#and i just want things to go back to normal

[rafesweetie]

rafe accidentally making a habit out of slapping bsf!readers ass and it becomes normal for them but he does it at a party or smth and nobody else thinks it's normal

ugh yes like it’s literally a goonfest between those two and everybody has to take a second look!!! im imagining s1 rafe here.. and his annoying friends… yummy!

rafe and you had a special bond, as you put it. truthfully, you were always a bit hazy anyway, eyebrows often furrowed in confusion when rafe’s discussing his business to you, or asking him to look things up for you. you wouldn’t call yourself stupid — just easily confused and sometimes unsure. so that’s where bsf!rafe comes in. he swooped into your life before you knew it, instantly attaching himself to the pretty girl who must need her knight in shining armor. you weren’t really sure how you got so close, but it happened.

it was innocent, for the most part. and i say that wholeheartedly. movie nights at your place, helping him babysit younger wheezie, going for ice cream. you didn’t act romantic, he was just like your bodyguard. well — your overly touchy bodyguard. his hands often found his way on your body to guide you through crowds and lead you places or simply hold you close when you were tired.

whenever you’d go somewhere without him, parting ways in your houses to get a drink and whatnot, he’d playfully slap your ass to shoo you away. it was meant ‘innocently’, or so you thought, but he did secretly love feeling it for the brief seconds he’d touch it.

rafe decided to make the brave decision of inviting you to one of kelce’s parties. you’ve been hanging off his arm the entire time, which earns some glances and whispers of ‘is that is girlfriend?’, only for the rumours to fizzle out when he’d be touching another girls waist whenever you were gone to the washroom.

sitting beside him while he deals coke on the low, he keeps his bicep around your shoulders as you chat up the people who want coke, because your sweet personality attracts business for your friend.

after about half an hour, you’re pawing at his salmon coloured polo and telling him that you’re gonna go get a drink. normally, he’d come with you, but he was in the middle of pouring a line for a girl with eyelashes that are falling off of the corners of her eye, so he just nods.

with a pat of your ass when you get up, sticking his hand up your skirt a little bit before you walk away, he barely notices all the confused stares in his direction. that is, until kelce is patting his back, saying, “bro! you finally bagged her, huh?”

he blinks. “the fuck d’you mean?”

“c’mon, man, smacking her little ass,”

“oh. no, we’re just friends, bro, just a.. habit, or whatever,”

topper chimes in. “dude, you don’t do that to friends. what, you hook up on the low or something? s’not normal to smack a friends ass, man,”

“me next, rafe?” kelce laughs.

“hey — bro, she’s coming, be chill,” rafe shoves his friends.

you come back and sit beside rafe again, blinking up at his annoyed face. “what?”

“no, nothing y/n, s’all good,”

“yo, y/n,” topper’s hand lands on your knee to get your attention and rafe pulls it off without thinking. “rafe smacks your ass, huh? think it’s normal?”

“gonna beat you with a golf club, man,” rafe mutters as you nod your head.

“yeah, why? he’s just teasing,”

topper and kelce laugh and you’re not sure why. all you can hope is that rafe doesn’t stop doing it anytime soon.

[simjaexy]

𝙄 𝙇𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙈𝙮 𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 | 𝙎.𝙅.

Pairing — Virgin! Sim Jaeyun x Experienced! (F) Reader

Synopsis — Sim Jaeyun had a normal life. He was just a regular guy that worked in a small cafe and made coffee for customers. What he didn’t think was normal though, was that he was a virgin at the age of 22. Embarrassing enough, he never jerked off. Ever. Why you ask? Well, because he didn’t know how to. He watched porn videos from time to time, but never acted upon himself to jerk off. So what happens when he sees you enter the cafe for the first time and is in struck? Will he act upon to ask you out? Or will he scurry away like a puppy because he’s a virgin?

Genre — Crack, Smut, Angst

Warnings — MINORS DNI!!!, Jay and Sunghoon are Jake’s BFFS (saying this as a warning bc they are chaotic asf), Cursing, Reader is big money rich, Arguments, Name calling (Idiot and etc.), Switch! Jake (mostly sub), Jake is a somewhat pervert & awkward mess, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Loss of virginity, Making out, Jake has a big dick, Jake is bad at sex (but it’s ok bc reader helps him <3), Receiving (m&f), Sex (Unprotected, Sloppy, Rough, Cloth), Jerking off, Cum swallowing, Humiliation, Grinding, Eating out, Jake is a pussy drunk, Multiple orgasms, Crying, Hickeys, lmk if i miss anymore!

Wc — 10.7k

A/n — I spell experiment & experience wrong so bear with me. Anyways, happy to say I’m back to making fics! U could kind of tell I gave up on some parts so sorry abt that :/ I also wanted to make it longer BUT oh well (might be a part 2 but who knows)! I hope u guys like this one <3 It was kind of shitty since I had no idea what I was going for but it was worth a shot. If u would like to be on the perm taglist click here! Like, Reblog, Comment, etc.! Not proofread!

masterlist here

“How do people like extra bitter coffee?”

Sunghoon questioned with a cup of bitter coffee in his hand, holding it close to his face to examine it. Jake, on the other hand, was wiping down the dirty counter. The morning was in full business, and the only thing heard in the cafe was the chatter of customers and the espresso machine. Jake chuckled at Sunghoons comment. He always judged what people ordered and the funny thing is, Sunghoon didn’t like coffee at all. He only applied to work at a cafe was because Jake didn’t wanna be alone. What also came as a moment was when Jay also offered to work too.

He glanced at the next order slip and began preparing a caramel macchiato, his hands moving with ease. They haven’t been working here for a long time, just a few months. They get paid pretty well so Jake really didn’t have nothing to complain about other than the shitty customers that would come around to argue with them. Sunghoon would usually escort them out because Jay would pick a fight. Jake finished the coffee and went up to the front, "Caramel macchiato for Sarah!" Jake called out, placing the drink on the counter. A young woman stepped forward with a grateful smile, taking the coffee from his hands and offering a shy ‘Thank you’. Jake returned the smile before turning back to the next order.

As he made the next coffee, Sunghoon leaned against the counter, letting out a long sigh, "I'm tired already, and it's only been four hours," Sunghoon muttered, rubbing his eyes. Jake watched Sunghoon, noticing the growing eyebags, but didn’t notice them until now in the bright lights. Sunghoons been working overtime lately due to his girlfriend and him recently having a fight. It wasn’t the first one they had, but clearly this was one of the worst ones. That’s what Jake also didn’t like. Fights in relationships.

Jake chuckled softly although he knew Sunghoon was having trouble. The only thing you can do is just comfort, "Don't worry about it. We're almost done. Just a little longer."

Sunghoon groaned, looking at the clock on the wall. The time is ticking slow and dreadful, "I hope so. I can't wait to go home and sleep.”

Jake laughed, shaking his head as he poured steamed milk into a cup, "You'll make it. Just think about that comfy bed waiting for you."

Sunghoon frowned, pushing himself off the counter. "Yeah, that sounds good right about now." He spoke sarcastically.

The two continued their work despite the exhaustion they were both feeling. It was a bit more bearable with having a coworker like Sunghoon by his side. They would joke around about anything together, along with Jay. Speak of the devil, the door to the back room swung open, and there behold Jay with a wide grin on his face.

"Fucking finally!" Jay said, his excitement palpable. "I've been texting back and forth with this girl all morning. She's planning something special for tonight. I bet I’m gonna get laid.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed, "This is like, what? The fifth girl you’ve talked too?Some of us are just trying to survive the day here. And what do you mean all morning? Have you’ve been doing your job?” Sunghoon ranted.

Jay raised his hands up, “It’s not my fault I haven’t had sex in a while. Besides, the last girl I had sex with didn’t want me wearing a condom! I ran out of there before she could say anything else.” He replied.

Sunghoon said something back, but Jake stayed quiet, zoning out. This is when he often felt out of place. He admired Jay's conversation about girls and sex, but couldn't quite relate to it. Sure he had a fair share of doing little dates with some chicks, but each time it always ended up with one of them saying they wanna have sex, which Jake didn’t want at the moment. They would then get mad and upset but can you really blame him?

Jay, oblivious to Sunghoon's irritation, continued, "Seriously, you guys should find someone to fuck. It makes everything so much better. Like, even this job feels less tiring when I know I have something to look forward to later at night."

Sunghoon sighed, shaking his head, "Yeah, yeah, Jay. We get it. You're a horny man. Now, can we please focus on getting through this shift?"

Jay rolled his eyes and scoffed, grabbing an apron, tying it around his waist, "Alright, alright. But seriously, you guys should think about it."

The three of them resumed making coffee and taking orders from customers. Despite the differences in their personalities, Jake thought they worked well together, each bringing something unique to the team. As the last customer left the cafe, the three of them let out a drawn sigh in unison.

Sunghoon stretched his back and let out a noise in satisfaction, “Finally, we can go home.” He hummed. Jake agreed, taking off the apron and hanging it on the hanger.

Jay did the same, “Well I’ll see you guys on Monday then. Boutta get some head.” He said. Sunghoon groaned in disgust.

Jay left while Jake and Sunghoon tidied up the place for the next workers tomorrow. After they finished they stepped out of the cafe with Sunghoon locking the door. The sun was already slowly setting, they should be getting paid for working overtime at this hour. Not many of the employees do.

“I’ll see you Monday?” Sunghoon asked. Jake nodded and smiled. They bid each other goodbye and headed in different directions.

Jake walked along the familiar path from the cafe to his apartment, the weight of the day bearing down on his shoulders. He wished he had a girl to go home too like Sunghoon. He could just imagine seeing her laying on the couch or watching TV in the living room. The closer he got to his apartment, the more the loneliness seeped into his bones. He really did wish for someone, anyone, to be there, but there was no one. Just him and the four walls that enclosed his existence. Finally, he reached his building. He took out his keys as he came face to face with his door and opened it with a click. He entered his apartment, closing the door behind him with a sigh. The silence not making anything better.

He took off his shoes, setting them on a rack near his door and headed straight to his bedroom. Changing into more comfortable clothing, he felt a slight sense of relief, though it did little to lift the heavy feeling in his chest. Deciding to stay distracted, he made his way to his laptop at his desk. He grabbed it and sat comfortably in his bed. He opened his laptop and went on Google, searching pornhub.com. There popped up different websites of porn, and yet none seemed to take his interest. He scrolled through all of them and decided to click on a random one.

Different videos of men and women having sex popped up. He scanned through the tags — missionary, pretzel, doggy style, milfs, young teen, it could go on. He clicked on one that seemed interesting.

Young teen girl getting pussy pounded by Dilf Dad- Very Hot!

Jake watches as the girl was sitting comfortably on a pink bedsheet. Collages of drawings in the background on the white wall. She was wearing a little skirt that showed her whole silk panties. Her hair was in a slick back bun. To Jake, she looked like an innocent girl. Then a man comes into view and faces the girl as she looks up. Jake couldn’t see everything, but he could see the Dad rubbing on the girl's cheek smoothly. She dipped her head closer to his palm, almost as if she was savoring it. Jake didn’t know what else happened before it cut to a scene where the girl was a moaning mess as the Dad fucks her roughly. He pulled her hair making her back arch like a bow. She let out sinful moans and pants leaving Jake wide eyed and wanting to hear more.

He hissed when he felt his computer rub along his now hard cloth dick. He lifted it up and saw his strained sweatpants. He groaned and set his laptop on the side of him and rubbed his dick awkwardly. Fuck, he really doesn’t know what to do. He let in a pitiful whine when he gripped and squeezed it. Just as he was gonna take his dick out of his sweatpants, his phone started ringing with a vibrating sound. He jumped. Who could be calling at this hour? With a sigh, he reached over to his nightstand and grabbed his phone. The screen illuminated the room just enough for him to see the caller ID. It was his boss. Jake's heart sank. He had a bad feeling about this call.

"Hello?" He answered, trying to sound as normal as possible.

"Jake, it's me," His boss's voice came through the line, sounding business-like as ever, “Would it be alright if you come into work tomorrow?"

Jake mentally groaned. He had been looking forward to his day off, to catch up on sleep and maybe even relax a little. But he knew he couldn't say no to him, besides, maybe he could get more pay, "Sure, I can do that," He replied, trying to sound more professional than he felt. He hated how good he did.

"Good," His boss said, a hint of relief in his voice, "I'll pay you extra for the trouble. See you in the morning." And with that, the line went dead.

Jake stared at his phone for a moment, feeling frustrated and dry. He tossed the phone back onto the nightstand and let out a long sigh. His day off had just been snatched away, and the prospect of another grueling day at work now loomed in his mind. He was getting extra pay, so it wasn’t that bad. He looked over at his laptop and noticed the video was over. He scoffed and slammed it shut. He turned over in bed, pulling the covers up to his chin, and closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would come quickly and give him a brief respite from being interrupted from his sexual time.

Jake's alarm blared at 6 AM, jarring him from a restless sleep. He groggily reached over to silence it, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He remembered the late-night call from his boss, and the reality of another workday settled over him like his heavy blanket. He dragged himself out of bed and headed to the bathroom. He turned the nob as hot water poured out. Taking off his clothes- he entered and groaned feeling his muscle ache. After he finished, he dressed in a comfy outfit. He glanced at the clock and saw the time. With a sigh, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

When Jake arrived at work, he walked through the front counter, nodding at a few of his coworkers as he passed. He wasn’t used to not having Jay and Sunghoon by his side. That’s when he is usually somewhat quiet, but still talks enough for people to know who he is.

"Morning, Jake," One of them called out. He responded with a polite nod and a "Good morning" before continuing on his way.

As he approached his workstation, he saw Seulri, a coworker who had always been talkative towards him, "Hi, Jake!" She said brightly, her eyes lighting up as she saw him.

"Hey, Seulri," Jake replied, forcing a smile. He liked Seulri, she was a girl that he felt like he could talk to anything about. But he knew she had a crush on him, and he just didn't feel the same way.

"I was wondering what you were doing today after work?" She asked, her tone hopeful.

Jake hesitated, searching for an excuse. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, but he also didn't want to lead her on, “Uh, I've got a lot on my plate today," He said, trying to sound convincing, "I gotta close the shop for the night." It wasn’t whole lie. He did have to close the cafe around night.

Seulri's face fell slightly, but she quickly masked her disappointment with a smile. "Oh, okay. Well, if you need any help, just let me know."

"Thanks, Seulri. I appreciate it," Jake said, feeling a pang of guilt. He watched as she walked away, her shoulders slumped just a bit.

With a heavy guilt, Jake turned to work on a order. He knew he could’ve had a chance to finally get into a relationship, but he wanted someone to know him for him. Not just some person that wants to satisfy him like Seulri. Jay and Sunghoon kept telling him to just fuck it and have sex with her for the hell of it, but clearly they don’t understand what Jake’s wants. What he needs. Jake mentally cursed at himself and focused back on working. He wasn’t gonna think about, at least not for today.

It was around midnight when Jake was wiping down the tables and stacking the chairs. He liked these types of nights where he could just feel the need to relax with nothing on his mind. He was the only one left for the night, his coworkers having left hours ago. With a sigh, he sat down on an open chair behind the front counter. Deciding to take a break, he opened his phone and checked through his messages. He took sight of the group chat he had with Jay and Sunghoon called ‘The 02zzzz’ and opened it.

Sunghoon: [Link]

Sunghoon: You guys gotta check this out.

Jay: Wow, that’s hot.

Sunghoon: Ikr

Jake eyebrows furrowed before clicking the link. The link took him to safari and there popped up a video. Jake could already tell it was a porn video just from the looks of it. He clicked play and almost immediately it showed a girl sucking a guys dick hungrily. Jay was definitely not wrong, it was fucking hot. How the hell does Sunghoon find these videos? Jake liked the message and shut his phone off. Just then the bell let out a ‘ding’ upon someone coming in. Jake mentally groaned and got up from the sturdy chair, pushing it to the side. He rolled his sleeves as he stared up and that’s when he felt the air get knocked out his lungs. There standing in front of him was a beautiful girl that looked about in her 20’s. Jake felt his mouth going dry from staring. She was beautiful.. and hot. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and gave Jake a sweet smile. Yeah, he was done for.

“Hi! I hope your not closing soon,” She spoke, her voice sound as pretty as her face, “I just wanted a black coffee if that’s fine.”

Jake blinked once, twice before nodding slow. He shook his head. Get your ass together! He already felt like he was embarrassing himself enough by just staring at her. Wait, was his eyes averting to her tits?

“Oh! Yeah sure no problem, that’ll be $3.75.” He replied. The girl sighed in relief and pulled out her wallet, Jake wondered if she had been going all around town looking for an open coffee shop. Then again, he wasn’t particularly open either.

She extended her hand out with money which Jake took, he felt himself shiver when he felt her soft hands touch his. They were soft and smooth, almost as if she putted lotion before coming in here. Jake opened the cashier register and gave back a few change, “It’ll be done shortly.” He smiled. She nodded and went to take a seat not far from him.

He started measuring out the perfect amount of water, tamping it down with just the right amount of pressure, and locking the portafilter into the machine. As the hot water began to flow through the grounds, he glanced up back at the girl. She was rummaging through her bag, pulling out a laptop, a stack of papers, and a planner. Was she staying for a long time? Jake averted his eyes to the time. It wasn’t that late, but he is gonna be closing soon. He turned back towards her and as he watched her work, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes, a sign of sleepless nights and long hours. It reminded him of Sunghoons. Her outfit was sharp and professional, a tailored blazer over a crisp blouse, paired with sleek trousers. As he steamed the milk, he felt his phone vibrate from his back pocket. Must be Jay and Sunghoon. He grabbed his phone and checked curiously.

Jay: Fuck guys, I just had the best sex ever

Sunghoon: Tf? We don’t wanna know that

Sunghoon: … Was it good?

Jay: The fucking best, she was definitely experienced

Sunghoon: Damn, now I wanna fuck my girl

Jay: No one stopping you

Sunghoon: Yeah, she is. Still mad at me.

Jay: Must suck

Sunghoon: Everyday

Jake putted his phone away when he the machine stopped indicating it was done. He took the coffee out and poured it into a cup. He put a plastic top over it before setting it down on the counter. The girl noticed and got up to grab it. Maybe this could be the chance to talk to someone, “Rough day?" Jake asked.

The girl stared up at him surprised before chuckling softly. Jesus, even her laugh was pretty, “You could say that.”

Jake hesitated for a moment before asking, "Are you perhaps a businesswoman?"

She nodded, taking a sip of the coffee. She let out a relaxed hum. Jake felt himself smiling before she stared at him, “Yes, I am. How did you guess?"

Jake shrugged, trying to play it cool. He wondered if he’s doing a good job at it, "Just a hunch. You look like someone who works hard and could use a good cup of coffee."

She laughed softly, it sounded like music to his ears, “You have no idea. This is exactly what I needed. Thank you."

As she went back to her seat with her unfinished work, Jake couldn’t help but feel his heart swell. They barely spoke and yet Jake already felt a connection. Is this what love at first sight feels like? Cause if it is then sign him the fuck up. He wants to feel that all the time. He watched her eyebrows furrow while looking at a few papers before flipping to the next ones. Maybe if he actually had some balls he could distract her and make her feel better about whatever she was stressing about. But what if she doesn’t want to be distracted?

Jake mentally groaned at himself, he really is bad at this. He mind as well just tell her he’s closing since it’s already been a few minutes. As he was lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice a little someone coming up to the counter, “Excuse me,” Her voice said. Jake whipped his head up and mustered up a nice smile. Shit, did she catch him thinking? She took out her wallet and pulled out around $20. Jake frowned and stared up at her.

“For letting me stay here even though you’re closing.” She spoke, “I noticed when I walked in you guys were supposed to close about five minutes ago.”

Jake nodded and stared back down at the money. Damn it was a lot. And with the extra pay coming to his check? He could go out drinking with the guys, but then again she didn’t need to give him money, “It’s no worries. Keep it.” He smiled.

She frowned, “Well now you’re making me feel bad. You’re working overtime because of me.”

“I was working overtime either way. I’m a slow cleaner.” Jake responded. He wasn’t really lying. She slowly nodded and put her money back in her wallet. Louis Vuitton wallet. Oh, she’s rich rich.

“Well, is there anything I can pay you back aside from money then?” She spoke. Her voice laced with concern. Jake gulped. This was his chance to hit it with a ‘a date would be nice’, but clearly she doesn’t look interested in him, right? Jake felt his heart pacing with each thought. Fuck it.

“M-Maybe a date.” He blurted out. Fucking. Stupid. Voice. Did he really just stutter? The girl blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by the sudden sentence. Yeah, Jake was definitely gonna dig himself in a hole. He was gonna take back what he said until a little giggle was heard from the girl.

“I didn’t expect that, but sure. Why not?” She chimed. Jake felt himself freeze in place. She said yes. She said yes? She said yes! Jake felt like punching the air in victory but kept his composure.

“Really? Wow- I mean- That’s cool. Cool.” He replied. She laughed making Jake feel even more embarrassed. Has he always been this awkward? He wouldn’t be surprised if she changed her mind.

“ Well if we’re going on a date, you have to give me your number first." She said. Her smile never dropping. Jake's eyes widened in surprise. Right. How could he forget? He fumbled with his phone, his hands shaking slightly. He awkwardly handed it to you, unable to find his voice. You took it, entered your number, and handed it back.

"Text me," She said softly, "and we'll set something up."

"Okay," he managed to say, his voice filled with a mix of relief and excitement.

She went back to the table and gathered her stuff and walked out of the café. As she glanced back, Jake couldn’t help but feel his heart pang out of his chest. He can’t believe he picked up a beautiful girl all because he had the balls to do it. She gave him a wink, and that’s when she disappeared as she walked out of his view. Jake probably looked like an idiot, but he probably looked more of an idiot when he immediately took out his phone and checked her information.

L/n Y/n. That’s your name. Jake felt himself smiling at his phone like a weirdo. He has to tell the guys this. He typed the group chat name and clicked it.

Jake: You guys won’t believe what just fucking happened.

Sunghoon: You finally made matcha?

Jake: Even better, I asked a girl out and she’s fucking hot.

Jay: No way dude. I told you you can do it!

Jake: Jesus christ I’m scared. What if she thinks I’m weird for being a virgin at this age?

…

Sunghoon: Shit

Jay: Fuck

Jay: I completely forgot you’re a virgin.

…

Jake: Yeah I’m fucked.

To say the least, it wasn’t really Jake’s fault for not texting you at all for the past two days. What if you were waiting for him to text? You most likely were, but Jake felt like a complete idiot for even thinking you weren’t. Jay and Sunghoon tried to help out with texting you, as in saying ‘hey how about we just go on that date and see where it goes? No sex!’ but clearly that wasn’t gonna do any better. That’s also what you most likely wanted too. And Jay and Sunghoon know Jake would happily comply without saying he’s a virgin. To what Jay said, virgins are the last thing girls want to have sex with. They like experienced men. Men that would actually blow their back out. And yet, Jake wasn’t like that at all. He was a guy who never jerked off before and most likely never will.

“Dude you’re fucking fried if you don’t say anything soon.” Sunghoon said. It was already the afternoon when Sunghoon decided to break the silence with Jake’s situationship. Jake groaned and put his face in his hands.

“I don’t blame her if she’s probably getting pussy pounded by another dude by now.” Jay added. Sunghoon elbowed him. Jake glared at him even though he wasn’t really wrong.

“I don’t know. What if I just cancel it?” Jake muttered, running a hand through his hair. "What if I mess up- well I already did. What if she doesn't like me?"

Jay shook his head firmly, “No way, Jake. This is your chance to show her who you really are. You can't back out now. Who cares if you’re a virgin? I know I said they like experienced men- which is not a lie, but hey, maybe she likes inexperienced guys?”

Sunghoon nodded in agreement, "Jay's right. But if you really don't want to go, you don't have to force yourself. Just be honest with her."

Jake sighed, clearly torn. They both weren’t wrong. Maybe he’s just overthinking it. Maybe you did like inexperienced guys, "I just don't know what to do."

Jay patted Jake’s shoulder firmly, “Dude, just try.” He said. And when Sunghoon gave him a firm look, Jake knew himself what he was gonna do.

It was a lot harder than expected. He was debating whether you’re a caller or a texter. Would it be weird to randomly call you instead? Fuck, but to hear your voice would be amazing. So that’s exactly what Jake did. He typed in your name and clicked on it. His finger hovered over the ‘call’ button. He took a deep breath before clicking it. The line was silent for a few seconds before you answered.

“Hello?” You questioned. Jake suddenly felt the words he was gonna say disappear. You said it again as Jake shook his head.

“H-Hi! This is Y/n?” He stirred. He mentally slapped himself for asking an obvious question. A light giggle came from the other side.

“This is. Is this the barista I gave my number too?” You joked. If it weren’t for your pretty voice Jake would be assuming you were making fun of him.

“Yeah, it’s Jake.” He mumbled. You hummed against the line making him shiver.

“Didn’t expect you to call. I’m glad you did though.” You let out a breathy laugh. Jake nodded his head as if you could see him, “Well, did you wanna talk about the date?”

“Yeah, I did. I was wondering if you wanna go tomorrow? I’ll pick you up.” He said. He could practically feel his heart beating out of his chest when you were silent.

“Okay. Tomorrow it is!” You agreed. He let out a sigh of relief. It was perfect.

“Okay, see you then!” He replied. You gave a small ‘bye’ before hanging up. Jake tossed his phone on the bed and smiled. He was not gonna fuck this up.

Maybe he was. It wasn’t even a minute when Jay busted through his apartment door at nine in the morning with a tired Sunghoon by his side. Apparently when Jake goes on dates it’s a routine to help him with his clothes. He watched as Jay scanned through his clothing in his messy closet while Sunghoon was sleeping on his bed. Jake doesn’t remember telling them they can just do this.

“We definitely need to go shopping after your date.” Jay mumbled, but Jake heard the whole thing.

“Let’s not talk about your style old grandpa.” Jake scoffed. He rolled his eyes when Jay ignored him by sliding the hangers louder. He stared over at Sunghoon sound asleep, “Why did you even bring Sunghoon along?”

Jay stopped sliding the hangers and turned around, letting out a deep sigh, “He wanted to come. Him and his girlfriend are still fighting.”

Jake eyebrows furrowed. Seriously, it was getting out of hand. Is he seriously get no night rest with her? Jake tucked the blanket up to Sunghoon chest who let out a little snore. Jay was staring pitifully. It was quiet for a few seconds, not one of them talking until Jake’s phone started ringing.

“Bro, why is your phone ringing? Aren’t you going to answer?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow. Jake glanced at the screen, and his heart did a flip when he saw your name. He scrambled to sit up, muttering, “Oh my god,” before frantically swiping to answer the call. Jay watched the whole chaos unfold.

“Hello?!” Jake practically screamed into the phone, his voice cracking slightly. Jay gave him a look that was equal parts amused and disappointed, mouthing, ‘chill dude’. Jake gulped harshly waiting for you to say something.

“Uh… hey,” You said on the other end, sounding slightly startled by his volume, “Just wondering… when are you gonna pick me up?”

Jake slapped a hand over his forehead, realizing he hadn’t even started getting ready yet. This was Jays fault, “Oh! Uh, soon! I just—I need to, um, get dressed real quick.”

There was a pause, and then your soft laugh, “Okay. Just let me know when you’re on your way, and I’ll text you the address.”

“Cool, cool,” Jake stammered, nodding furiously even though you couldn’t see him, “I’ll—I’ll let you know. Yeah.”

As soon as he hung up, Jay let out a sigh and leaned back on the closet door, shaking his head, “Man, that was painful to watch.”

Jake shot him a glare, “What? I answered, didn’t I?”

“Barely. You sounded like you just found out you won the lottery or something,” Jay teased, “Get it together, Romeo.”

Jake groaned, running a hand through his hair. He needs to practice to not look like a complete weirdo towards you. It’s more embarrassing knowing that one of his friends watched the whole thing, “Shut up. I need to figure out what I’m wearing.”

Jay watched as Jake sprinted towards his closet, muttering to himself about shirts and jackets, “This is why you’re single, dude,” Jay spoke. He heard Jake letting out a little protest but saying nothing else.

His phone let out a ‘ping!’ and as he snatched it off the bed he saw you send your address. You don’t live too far which is a good thing. Jake liked the message before he felt a heavy feeling on his back. He rolled over to feel a clothes on his back.

“Wear that. It’s better than nothing.” Jay spoke. Jake grabbed the clothing and scanned them. A slim fit blue cotton sweater with black pants. Surprisingly it didn’t look like bad outfit. Jake didn’t say anything else when he headed to the bathroom to change into it.

Jake emerged from the bathroom, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt as he stepped into his room, “Alright,” He announced, standing in front of Jay with an expectant look, “What do you think?”

Jay, who had been scrolling through his phone, glanced up—and then did a double take. He raised his eyebrows. It was definitely a nice outfit. Made by Jay obviously.

“Huh,” Jay said, a smirk creeping onto his face, “I’m surprised.”

Jake blinked, “Surprised?”

“Yeah,” Jay replied, sitting back on the bed, “Surprised it actually looks good. But then again, not surprised. I’m a genius when it comes to this stuff.”

Jake rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips, “Right. Thanks for your expert opinion,” He muttered, heading toward his closet to grab a pair of matching shoes.

Jay watched as Jake slipped them on, tying the laces with a focused expression, “You nervous or something?”

“No,” Jake lied quickly, straightening up and brushing his hands over his pants, “I think I’m ready.”

“Hold up,” Jay said, getting up and rummaging through a small drawer by the TV. A second later, he tossed something at Jake.

Jake caught it, frowning as he realized it was a pair of glasses, “What’s this for?”

Jay shrugged, “They’ll pull the whole look together. Trust me.”

Jake hesitated, then slid the glasses on. He turned toward the mirror near the door, adjusting them as he took in his reflection, “… Okay, not bad,” he admitted.

“Not bad?” Jay scoffed, “You look like you just stepped out of a catalog. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Jake laughed under his breath, he couldn’t be more grateful for Jay at these times. He grabbed his keys from the counter, “Alright, I’m heading out. Are you guys gonna be staying by the time I get back?”

Jay gave him a mock salute, leaning back on the bed again, “Good luck, lover boy. And no, most likely not, I’ll wake Sunghoon up soon and maybe get him breakfast.”

Jake shot him a grin. He shook his head, stepping out the door and heading toward his car, his heart pounding a little harder than he’d like to admit. Once he started the car he went right to your house. Jake drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, glancing at the GPS on his phone as he followed the directions to your house. The drive had been quiet, save for the faint hum of his playlist in the background, but as he turned into your neighborhood, he couldn’t help but sit up straighter.

The houses here were massive.

Each one seemed more impressive than the last—pristine lawns, tall gates, sleek cars in driveways. Jake felt his brows furrow as he passed by what looked like a mansion with marble columns. If you were this rich, why would agree to go on a date with someone like him? You could practically be dating millionaires! It kind of reminded him of Jays house. Jays house 0.2?

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, double-checking the address you’d sent him. When he finally reached your house, he froze, blinking a few times to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. Your house was huge, the kind of place he’d only seen in movies. The front yard alone was immaculate, with perfectly trimmed hedges and a fountain in the center of the driveway.

He pulled his car up to the curb, feeling suddenly out of place in his old but reliable sedan. He sat there for a moment, staring up at the house in awe before shaking his head. Jake grabbed his phone and called you, his palms a little sweaty for reasons he couldn’t explain.

“Hey,” he said when you picked up, “Uh, I’m here.”

“Okay, I’ll be out in a second,” You replied, your voice soft and calm.

Jake hung up, taking a deep breath as he adjusted his rearview mirror. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but when you stepped out the front door, it felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. You looked stunning. The way you carried yourself, the way the evening light hit your features—it was almost unfair. Jake watched as you walked toward his car, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as his heart thudded in his chest.

You opened the passenger door, slipping inside with a shy smile, “Hi,” You said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Jake didn’t respond right away. He was too busy staring, his brain struggling to come up with something—anything—to say. Up close, you were even prettier than he remembered, and it was doing things to his ability to form coherent thoughts.

“Hi,” He finally managed, his voice coming out a little rougher than he intended. You glanced at him, your smile widening slightly, and Jake felt like he was going to lose it. Fuck, you looked so hot.

He cleared his throat, quickly looking away as he started the car, “Uh, you—you look really nice,” He said, mentally kicking himself for how lame that sounded.

“Thank you,” You replied, your cheeks flushing as you glanced out the window. Jake stole another quick glance at you as he pulled away from the curb, wondering how he was supposed to focus on driving when you were sitting right there, looking like that.

The drive was silent but comfortable. He gave you a few looks as you stared out the window quietly. He assumed he should talk more when he gets to the restaurant since you looked so peaceful. He was hoping to God it wasn’t too expensive since he’s quit low on money as embarrassing as it sounds since it was Jays recommendations.

Jake pulled his car into the parking lot of a sleek, upscale restaurant, the golden glow of its soft lighting spilling through its large windows. He parked near the entrance, cutting the engine before glancing at you. You were staring at the building, your eyes wide with surprise, “This place looks… really nice,” You said, your voice tinged with awe.

Jake scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little nervous, “Yeah, I thought you might like it,” He said casually, though he’d spent way too long talking to Jay about ones that looked impressive but wouldn’t completely destroy his wallet.

You smiled at him, and it was the kind of smile that made him feel like he’d done something right for the first time, “I do. It’s perfect.”

Relieved, Jake got out of the car and quickly moved to your side to open the door for you. You stepped out gracefully, and the two of you walked toward the restaurant together, the soft sound of your shoes clicking against the pavement. Inside, the restaurant was even more elegant than it looked from the outside.

The low hum of conversation and soft instrumental music created an intimate atmosphere, and the warm lighting cast a golden glow over the polished wooden tables. Jake led you to the hostess, and soon enough, you were seated at a cozy table by the window. The two of you looked through the menus briefly before the waiter came to take your order, and the conversation flowed easily with the waiter as you waited for your food to arrive.

When the waiter finally brought your meals, the dishes were plated so beautifully it almost seemed like a shame to eat them, “This looks amazing,” You said, your eyes lighting up as you picked up your fork.

Jake smiled, watching your expression, “Yeah, definitely worth the drive.”

You took a bite, your face softening in delight. Jake chuckled at your cute expression, “Wow. Okay, this is really good.”

Jake took a bite of his own food and nodded in agreement, “They weren’t kidding about this place. I think I’m gonna start coming here every week.”

You laughed softly, “You’re really into food, huh?”

“Are you kidding? Food is, like, my love language,” Jake said, leaning back slightly, “Good food can fix almost anything.”

“Fair point,” you said, twirling your fork around your plate, “But if food’s your love language, what’s your hate language?”

Jake tilted his head thoughtfully like a puppy, “Cold coffee,” He said without missing a beat.

You burst out laughing, and Jake grinned, watching you, “Seriously, though. When someone orders an iced latte and lets it sit until the ice melts, I feel like I’ve failed them as a barista.”

“Iced lattes are your nemesis?” You teased, still giggling.

“Don’t underestimate how serious this is,” Jake replied, pretending to be solemn.

The two of you laughed together, and the conversation flowed easily as you continued eating. You asked him about his work, and he told you a funny story about a customer who ordered a “cappuccino but with no foam” and then got mad when it wasn’t a latte. By the time the plates were cleared, Jake felt like the two of you had been in your own little bubble, laughing and talking like old friends.

When you left the restaurant, the air outside was cool and refreshing. Jake walked beside you toward his car, his hands in his pockets. Once you were back inside, he hesitated for a moment before glancing over at you.

“So,” He started, turning the key in the ignition but not driving just yet, “Since I’ve, uh… seen … seen your house now…” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“I’ve been wondering,” he said, glancing at you quickly before looking back at the steering wheel, “What do you do for a living?”

You smiled knowingly, leaning back in your seat,“You were right,” You said, your tone playful, “I’m a businesswoman. I work in an office building with my friend. We run a consulting firm together.”

Jake’s eyebrows shot up, “Seriously? That’s… wow. No wonder you’re living like that.”

You chuckled softly, “Yeah, I get paid pretty well. It’s a good gig.”

Jake nodded, clearly impressed. Damn, you had it good, “That’s really cool. Like, actually really cool.”

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment before smiling again, “I think it’s cool that you’re a barista,” You said sincerely.

Jake blinked, caught off guard, “Me? Nah, it’s not that impressive,” He mumbled, suddenly feeling shy as he looked down at the steering wheel again.

“I’m serious,” You insisted, “It’s such a unique job, and it suits you. I bet you’re really good at it.”

Jake’s ears burned, and he couldn’t fight the sheepish smile spreading across his face, “Thanks,” He muttered, feeling like he was seventeen all over again.

You laughed softly, and Jake finally pulled out of the parking lot, his heart lighter than it had been in a while. As he drove back to your house he couldn’t help but laugh every time you pulled off a joke. You would giggle every time he told you a funny story about his friends. It was all too perfect to him. He didn’t want the night to end.

But sadly he soon got to your house and parks on the curb. It was silent for few minutes when you offered him a smile, “It was nice having this date with you. I mean, I didn’t know you were this fun.” You joked.

Jake chuckled, “You’d be surprised.” He replied earning another pretty laugh of yours. It was a few seconds of silence when you made eye contact with him. Jake did the same, though he noticed you were not looking at his eyes anymore, but his lips. He felt his heart pounding against his chest.

“I think you should-“ You cut him off by smashing your lips against his. It wasn’t dramatic or planned, just a soft, tentative kiss that felt like the most natural thing in the world. But Jake didn’t move. His lips didn’t press back into yours, and his entire body tensed as if someone had hit pause on him.

You pulled back, confused, your brow furrowing as you searched his face. He was staring at you, wide-eyed, his cheeks flushed a deep red, “Jake,” You said softly, your voice careful, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” He blurted, a little too quickly. His eyes darted everywhere except to yours, “I’m—I’m fine. You should, uh—you should go.”

The words must’ve hit you like a cold splash of water, “Go?”

Jake nodded, his hands gripping the edge of the couch so tightly his knuckles turned white, “Yeah, I think—uh, I think you should leave.”

You blinked, your heart sinking, “Did I… did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Jake said quickly, shaking his head. The last thing he wanted you to think was that you did something wrong, “It’s not that. It’s just…” He trailed off, chewing on his bottom lip as if the words were physically stuck in his throat.

“Just what?” You pressed gently, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake hesitated, his face twisting in frustration before he finally blurted, “I can’t kiss.”

You stared at him, taken aback, “What?”

“I’ve never kissed anyone before, okay?” He said, his voice rising slightly before he looked away, embarrassed, “I didn’t know what to do, and I—I froze, and now it’s just weird.”

“Jake,” You started, but he cut you off.

“It’s better if you just go,” He said quickly, his voice quiet now, almost resigned. He still couldn’t look at you, “Seriously.”

He could tell you didn’t want to leave—not like this—but he sat there, closed off and distant, making it clear he wasn’t ready for this conversation.

“Okay,” you said softly, your voice cracking slightly, “I’ll go.”

Jake didn’t move, didn’t even look at you as you made your way to the door. You paused for a moment, your hand on the handle, most likely hoping he might say something, anything, to stop you. But he didn’t. As you stepped out into the cool night air, the weight of what had just happened settled heavily in his chest. He watched as you opened your door and shut it without looking back. He didn’t blame you at all.

Inside, Jake buried his face in his hands, his stomach twisting with guilt. He didn’t want you to leave, but he couldn’t get past the knot of insecurity and shame tightening in his chest. He was fucking stupid. Why was he such an embarrassment. Jay was right. No girl would like a guy who is inexperienced. A few seconds he started the car and drove back to his house.

Once he got there it was dark and cold. He slammed his bedroom shut and lay on his bed in his date clothes. He didn’t even think about messaging his friends about what happened. He was too embarrassed. Neither did he messaged you an apology. You probably already blocked him. And he would have no other choice but to accept it.

Jake stood behind the counter at the cafe, aimlessly wiping a perfectly clean section of the countertop for what felt like the hundredth time. The usual clatter of mugs, the hum of conversation, and the hiss of the espresso machine buzzed around him, but he barely registered any of it. His mind was elsewhere—stuck on the events of the night before.

“Jake!”

He flinched, his hand freezing mid-wipe as Jay’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Jay was leaning against the espresso machine, a latte cup in hand, watching him with a raised brow. Shit, did Jay noticed he was wiping the same place over and over? Before he could say anything, Jay cut him to it, clearly upset.

“What’s up with you?” Jay asked, tilting his head. His voice was a bit gentler than Jake was expecting, “You’ve been zoning out all morning. You didn’t even react when I stole that tip you left on the counter.”

Jake blinked, confused, “Wait, what tip?”

Jay snorted, “Exactly. You’re out of it, man. So… how’d the date go?”

Jake glanced at him and then quickly looked away, focusing on folding a towel, “Fine,” He said flatly. Jake felt a lump forming in his throat just remembering the vents from last night.

Jay set his cup down with a loud clink, “Fine? That’s it? You’re acting like someone ran over your dog, and all I get is ‘fine’? Spill it, Jake. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Jake muttered, keeping his eyes on the towel.

From the other end of the counter, Sunghoon appeared, balancing a tray of mugs. He raised an eyebrow as he set the tray down, “What’s going on?”

“Jake’s being weird,” Jay said, gesturing toward him, “He says the date was ‘fine,’ but he’s been moping around all morning like it wasn’t fine.”

Sunghoon looked at Jake, who was now scrubbing the same spot on the counter he’d been wiping earlier, “Jake,” Sunghoon said carefully, “Did she do something that made you uncomfortable?”

Jake froze for a moment before shaking his head. He knew Sunghoon would have his back if anything, “No. It wasn’t her. It was… me.”

Jay frowned, “You? What do you mean?”

Jake hesitated, gripping the towel tightly, “She kissed me,” He said quietly, his face heating up.

Jay’s eyes widened and let out a him, clearly not getting what the fuck was wrong, “Okay, that sounds like a good thing. Why are you acting like it wasn’t?”

Jake sighed, feeling the weight of their stares, “Because I panicked. I didn’t kiss her back. And then I told her I couldn’t kiss, and I—” He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “I told her she should leave.”

Sunghoon set the tray down slowly, his expression unreadable, “You told her to leave?”

Jake nodded miserably. Jay stared at him for a moment before letting out a low whistle, “Wow. That’s bad. That’s kind of embarrassing.”

Sunghoon immediately elbowed him in the side, “Jay!”

“What? I’m just being honest!” Jay said defensively. Jake didn’t respond, his shoulders slumping as he folded the towel into a perfect square.

“Okay, but seriously,” Sunghoon said, his tone softer now, “Why’d you panic? You like her, right?”

Jake let out a humorless laugh? “Of course I like her. That’s the problem. I’ve never kissed anyone before. I didn’t know what to do, and I freaked out. Now she probably thinks I don’t like her or that I’m some kind of idiot.”

Jay leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms, “Dude, you’re overthinking this. Freaking out over your first kiss? That’s normal. It doesn’t make you an idiot.”

Jake shook his head, “It doesn’t matter. I made it weird. She left, and now I don’t even know if I should text her or what I’d even say.”

Sunghoon leaned against the counter beside him, “Be honest,” He said simply, “Tell her why you reacted the way you did. She kissed you for a reason—she likes you. If you explain, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Jake frowned, still uncertain, “You really think she’d want to hear from me after that?”

Jay nudged him lightly, “Absolutely. Just don’t overthink it, man. If you wait too long, you’re gonna drive yourself crazy.”

Jay was right. He was already crazy enough for letting you go like that. He nodded and gave them a small smile. He’ll make it happen today. He’ll apologize to you today. So, as soon as his shift ended, Jake didn’t bother going home to change or unwind. He got in his car, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he drove toward your house. His mind raced with what he would say.

“I’m sorry.” Too simple.

“I panicked because I didn’t want to mess up.” Too revealing.

“I don’t know how to kiss because I’ve never been with anyone.” He winced at that thought. He didn’t want to come off as pathetic.

The drive was short, but it felt like an eternity. When he finally pulled into your neighborhood, the looming houses made him feel like he was stepping into another world. They were big—bigger than anything he’d ever known—and it reminded him of just how different your lives were. He pulled up to your driveway, the size of your house making his stomach twist again. Shutting off the engine, Jake took a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. You’ve got this. Just explain yourself and hope for the best, he thought.

He climbed out of the car, made his way to your front door, and knocked. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited. Seconds felt like hours, and just as he was starting to wonder if you weren’t home, the door opened.

But it wasn’t you.

Jake blinked in surprise, his brain struggling to process who stood before him. It was Sunghoon’s girlfriend. Wait, what the fuck?

“What… what are you doing here?” Jake stammered.

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms, “I should be asking you the same thing.”

Jake opened his mouth, closed it, then managed to say, “I’m here to see Y/n? She lives here right?”

The words had barely left his lips when you appeared behind her, your eyes widening at the sight of him, “Jake?” You questioned.

“Hey,” He said awkwardly, shifting on his feet.

Sunghoon’s girlfriend glanced between the two of you, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips, “Well, this just got interesting,” She said, stepping aside to let you take over.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding and opening the door wider, “Come in.”

Jake stepped inside, his hands shoved into his pockets. The awkwardness in the air was thick, but before he could say anything, he turned back to Sunghoon’s girlfriend, “Wait—what are you doing here?”

She leaned casually against the wall, looking amused, “I could ask you the same thing again, but fine. I’m here because I’m her friend.”

Jake blinked, looking between her and you, “Since when have you two been friends?”

“Since we started working together,” She said with a shrug, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Jake stared at her, his mouth slightly open in surprise. He had no idea you worked together. Neither did he knew Sunghoon was interested in bitches like her. Before he could ask more, she clapped her hands together.

“Well, I was just leaving,” She said, grabbing her bag from the couch. She gave you a quick hug, then shot Jake a teasing look as she passed him, “Good luck.”

Jake stood there for a moment, stunned. He wanted to ask a hundred questions about her being here, but he decided to focus on the real reason he’d come. He turned to you, his nerves suddenly crashing down on him.

“So,” You said softly, crossing your arms as you leaned against the arm of the couch, “Why are you here?”

Jake scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze, “I, uh, wanted to talk about yesterday.”

You straightened, your expression cautious, “Okay.”

Jake took a deep breath, forcing himself to look at you, “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry. For how I acted.”

Your brows furrowed, but you stayed quiet, letting him continue, “I panicked,” He admitted, his voice quieter now, “I’ve never… I’ve never kissed anyone before. I didn’t know what to do, and I felt like an idiot. So instead of saying something, I just pushed you away.”

Your lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across your face, “Jake…”

He shook his head quickly, cutting you off, “I know it was dumb. I shouldn’t have done that. And I understand if you’re upset or if you don’t want to see me again, but I just couldn’t leave things the way they were. I like you. A lot. And I didn’t want you to think I don’t because of how I acted.”

The room was silent for a moment, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Then, you stepped closer, your expression softening, “Jake,” You said gently, “I’m not upset. I was just… confused. I didn’t understand why you reacted the way you did.”

He looked at you, relief washing over him like a wave, “You’re not mad?”

You shook your head, “No. I wish you’d told me sooner, but I get it now. And for the record,” You added with a small smile, “I like you too.”

Jake’s face flushed, his heart skipping a beat, “You do?”

You laughed softly, “Yes, Jake. I do.”

He let out a shaky breath, a smile tugging at his lips, “Okay. Good. Because I really want to try again. If you’re okay with that.”

“I’d like that,” You said, your smile growing. Jake felt like a little kid having a crush for the first time. You extended your hand out, waiting for him to grab it. He did and you escorted him to your living room.

It wasn’t a second when you suddenly wrapped your arms around his neck and stared at him seductively. Fuck, he’s really gonna do this. You closed your eyes and leaned in, Jake did the same. That’s when he felt your lips finally connecting. It was slow and gentle, as if he was gonna runaway again, but he wasn’t. He moved his lips slowly against yours, matching the pace. You let out a noise when he gripped your neck tightly.

Who knew your lips felt fucking amazing against his. His other hand rubbed against your open waist from your crop top. He suddenly let out a surprised whine when you gripped his dick. You froze and broke the kiss, your saliva connecting together, “D-Did you just whine?” You asked breathlessly.

Jake shoved his face in your neck, “Please, don’t make fun of me.” He whimpered. Your eyes went wide at the sudden tone of his voice. It was quiet and submissive. You then let out a little chuckle.

“Don’t worry. It was hot.” You admitted. Jake sighed when he felt you tug at his hair. He stared at you and gave you another peck on the lips. You slowly pushed him towards your couch as he fell back on it. You got on top of him and kissed him again, feeling his dick harden underneath.

He let out whines and moans feeling you grind so good against him. He never felt this type of pleasure before. You let out quiet moans as you bucked your hips. You lowered your head to his neck and softly sucked on it. Jake felt too much at the same time, he felt like he was gonna cum.

“Agh!- wait a minute!” He whined. You stopped sucking and looked up at him confused. He let out a shaky sigh, “I don’t wanna cum soon.”

You blinked. A smile was forming on your lips, “Why? Wanna cum inside me instead?” You purred. Jake eyes widened. Your mouth is so fucking nasty. He loves it a little too much.

“Y-Yes! Wanna cum inside.” He sighed. You lifted yourself up a bit and unbuckled his pants. He felt himself feeling more urgent the way you slowly undid his pants. He lifted his hips up to help you have access to his boxers. You lowered towards his cloth dick and rubbed it.

Jake threw his head back and let out a strangle moan. You gripped it, squeezed it, and stroke it. It all made Jake feel so dizzy and yet so good. You finally lowered his boxers revealing his dick, “Holy shit.” You mumbled. He was huge. Jake shyly covered himself with his arm making you giggle.

You gripped his dick and softly stroke it before spitting on it. Jake gasped when he felt your saliva trickling down his shaft and let out a cry when you suddenly engulfed his dick in your mouth. You gagged a bit feeling him hit the back of your throat. Jake eyes rolled back feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. You moaned around it and bobbed your head slowly trying to get used to the feeling. Jake gripped your hair and held you in place.

“Hah- M’gonna cum!” He cried out. Ghat didn’t stop you though. You took his hand off your head and went faster. Jake bucked his hips making you gag again, but the pain felt good. His orgasm came faster than he was expecting. Cumming deep in your mouth. What shocked him was when you swallowed everything easily. You took his dick out of your mouth and licked your lips.

Fuck, you were gonna be the death of him, “You taste good.” You said. As if it was the most normal thing to say after an intense blowjob. Jake breathed unevenly and gave you a sloppy smile. Round two of a blowjob didn’t sound bad.

You took off your shirt and unclipping your bra revealing your perky tits. Jake felt himself drooling staring at them. You giggled and grabbed his hands, putting them right on your tits. Jake cursed and gripped them softly. You bit your lip to suppress a moan. You began grinding again and let out a whimper feeling his tip hit your clit perfectly. One of Jake’s hand gripped your tit while the other helped you move your hips. You felt like you were gonna cum just from this.

You suddenly stop causing Jake to look up at you dazed, “Don’t wanna cum like this.” You stated. You got off of him and took off your underwear. With your pussy finally in view, Jake already felt like he was gonna cum the second time. You got back on top of him and grabbed his dick, aligning it at your entrance. You slowly sunk down and breathed out. He felt so big inside you. Is he gonna fit all the way? Your eyes teared up a little making Jake stare worriedly.

“D-Does it hurt? We can stop-“

“No! I’m fine. J-Just getting used to your size.” You panted. When he was fully inside you slowly grind getting used to the size. Jake had his head back feeling your velvet walls squeeze him so tight. You were so wet.

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum again.” Jake whispered.

You shook your head, “Try to hold it, please.” And who was Jake to say no? You began slowly going up and down, your moans now getting louder by each second. Jake gripped your hips and helped you. He bit his lip feeling you milk his dick.

The sound of skin slapping and moans bouncing off the walls made Jake realize he was actually fucking somebody. His moans suddenly got louder when you began bouncing faster, your tits jiggling everyone your pussy took his whole dick in. Your pussy was practically throbbing around him.

“Shit! Jake! Gonna cum!” You cried. Jake held your hips and started fucking you from below. You let out scream when you finally came all over his dick. He whimpered and went faster. He thrusted five more times before cumming deep inside you.

You panted against his neck as he slipped his dick out of your leaking pussy causing you to whine. You laid there breathless while Jake twirled a strand of your hair, “Sorry, was I too rough?”

You giggled, “You were perfect.”

He smiled and hugged your waist, “I’m glad you were my first.” He mumbled in your ear. You hummed and closed your eyes. It was silent for a few seconds before Jake asked a question.

“Have you ever got eaten out before?” He asked. You glanced at him and slightly shook your head.

“I haven’t. I’ve seen videos but-“ Before you could say anything else Jake suddenly flipped you over making you lay on your back with him on top of you, “Jake! What are you-“

He didn’t say anything when he lifted your legs over his shoulders. You shook your head frantically, “W-Wait Jake! I’m still sensitive!” You reasoned. But it went in Jake’s ear out the other when he lowered his face to your pussy.

No, he hasn’t ate pussy before, but he watched enough videos to know what he’s doing. He opened your folds with his fingers making you let out a surprised gasp before you felt his hot tongue lick you bud. You arched your back and whimpered at the new feeling. Jake licked and sucked your hole harshly, your pussy producing more slick from the pleasurable sensation. You felt tears gather in your eyes feeling overstimulated but not wanting him to stop.

You felt your orgasm coming and gripped Jake’s head, “Hng!- J-Jake I’m gonna cum!” You moaned. You felt your orgasm coming over you when he punched your bud with his fingers. Jake licked up your juices and hummed. You tasted sweet. He licked you clean and let your thighs fall on the couch, your legs shaking at the rough orgasm you had. Jake smiled and kissed your cheek.

“That wasn’t cool.” You breathed out.

Jake laughed and hugged your side, “I might do that again when you’re not expecting it.” He smiled. You glared at him, but couldn’t help the smile spreading across your face. As Jake held you close when you fell asleep, he couldn’t help but feel like he achieved something special. And it’s all thanks to you.

BONUS

Jay: How’d it go? Did she forgive you?

Jake: Yeah, we had sex ^^

Sunghoon: Ew, don’t type it so cute

Jake: Sorry

Jake: BTW I didn’t know she was friends with your gf Sunghoon.

Sunghoon: She is?

Jake: Yeah, she was at her house when I stopped by

Sunghoon: That explains why she was suddenly excited for her friend

Sunghoon: Ig she knew what you guys were gonna do

Jay: Are you guys still fighting?

Sunghoon: No, she forgave me when I gave her flowers

Jay: Good! So how about that threesome I was talking about-

Sunghoon left the group chat

taglist — @laylasbunbunny @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @yoongisbaguetteshoes @enhypenlovre @melancholy-z @minghaosimp @dudewhoism @honeychocos @hearts4hee @tlnyjoong @1013club @yagsoobin @mrsjohnnysuh @heekilrvs @enhasrii @prettygurlnikittie @jakeswifez @yunhoswrldddd @seokseokjinkim @slay-you-slay-all-day @whateverhoon @luminouskalopsia @noturmommasstuff @love4hee @sayuridump @ddeonuu4me @selleprotection @jenn-ieverse @ddolleri @babyy-bambii @nikiswifiee @rjssierjrie @sweetshinypuppy @moonpri @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @jayjw16enxp @aanniikkaa @prkhoonlvr @devi1d0ppi0 @enhygene @talyaxia @demigodmahash @shawnyle @0hmyengene @dazzlingjaeyun @ancnymcnzjy @immortalonie @jenniferthekittycat @fancypeacepersona @skzenhalove

[comicaurora]

Hi, Red. I'm hoping you can put on your writing advice hat for a second. I've tried to write stories several times and think I'm pretty good at outlining plots. But the wall I always hit is that when I try to write the character's dialogue they all sound the same, ie they talk exactly the same way I do. At which point I give up. Any suggestions?

Ah, character voice! A tricky blend of strategy and ✨vibes✨ goes into picking one, but mostly they can be drawn cleanly from the underpinnings of the character themself.

Narrowing in on a character voice can be helped initially with some basic brute-force Q&A:

How polite/formal is this character? Would they pick their words carefully to avoid offense? Do they use honorifics or nicknames? Are they impulsive and often thoughtless, saying things in clumsy, unpolished ways that might offend? Do they aim to offend?

How confident is this character? Do they stutter, do they pepper in "um" and "ah"? Do they always know how the sentence will end before they start it? Do they turn statements into questions or vice versa? Are they guileless and open? Guarded and wary? What, if anything, makes them shut down?

What does this character prioritize? An explainer wants their audience to understand exactly what they're going for, so their dialogue will be clarifying and perhaps a bit long. A character who doesn't care what anyone believes might not be willing to waste time explaining themself. A character who cares more about everyone getting along might spend their dialogue defusing arguments or placating emotional rough patches; a character looking for a fight might aim to create those rough patches.

How silly is this little guy? Some characters will spot opportunities for levity and go for it. Some characters can't help themselves and will turn everything into a gag. Some will recognize a joke and pointedly ignore it until everyone gets back on track. Some have no sense of humor. All of this will determine what kinds of lines they will and won't say.

How emphatic are they? Some characters would never dream of using an exclamation point. Some couldn't end a sentence with anything else.

What's their frame of reference? One person's normal is another person's incomprehensible. A character totally at home in a certain environment or situation will carry themself through it very differently than someone who's out of their depth.

How insightful are they? Are they profoundly introspective or are they holding the door shut on their collapsing tupperware stack of emotional issues? If someone else is in distress, can they find a way to help, or do they maybe get frustrated at their inability to do so? Can they glean what's bothering someone or do they need to be told? What kind of things are obvious to them, and what flies over their head?

And etcetera. There's tons of questions you could add here, but they're just to get a gist. A character voice is genuinely less about tone and accent and whether or not they use contractions and more about, like. Would They Fuckin Say That. Everything else is icing as far as I'm concerned.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: stalking, yandere, anxiety, paranoia, isolation tactics

♡ GN reader

You’re anxious. You probably shouldn’t be, and you tell yourself that. You’re being silly. Utterly silly. It’s most likely just coincidences—a string of oddities, enough to freak you out. And you’ve always been too easily spooked.

You just happen to have the same situation and routine, is all. So what? You live in the same building, both of you grab coffee at the same cafe on your way to college, where you both happen to go, both of you get off at the same time despite having different classes, both of you go grocery shopping every Monday before coming home, and both of you do laundry down in the basement every Sunday before bed.

It’s not such an original schedule, you tell yourself. Jeez, he's not stalking you! No. It’s natural to buy everything at the start of the week and even more standard to do laundry at the end of it. It’s normal! Totally normal!

You’re just imagining the rest. The way he looks at you. You’re just freaking out because it’s your first time living alone, out in the big world, all on your own. He’s probably in the same shoes as you. New city, tiny apartment, big campus, long lectures, broke shit. 

Yes! That’s why he offered to do laundry together. One washer, one coin, one dose of detergent—that’s two for the price of one and half the price for both of you. Of course! That must have been it—and not any of the creepy things you’ve suspected. Obviously, he isn’t asking to do laundry together to steal your underwear like some freak—what are you even thinking!?

You’re such a bad person. It’s not like he’s done anything directly off-putting. Asking you over for dinner is a nice thing, after all. Again, it saves money and keeps you both company. It’s lonely living alone, after all. It’s not like you think it’s swell spending every evening with your nose in your textbook, just waiting for the school to plan a social gathering or something so that you can make some friends. 

You’re such a dumbass. Wanting to make friends, yet shunning the one friendly guy in your building just because he’s been a little too forward. It’s not as if he’s asked you out or anything! He’s just being nice! You’re the one being weird! Thinking weird things—condemning him of doing weird crimes he hasn’t even done!

“Hey, neighbor,” he says. Right on time, just like always. Doing his laundry at the same exact moment as you.

“Oh–hey,” you greet back.

It’s not weird, you have to remind yourself. You’re here on time, aren’t you? How come you’re allowed to be consecutive, but it’s suddenly weird when he is? How does that make sense? It doesn’t. You’re being paranoid.

Oh, but then he picks the empty washer right next to you, even though there are plenty of others to go around. No one else does their laundry at this hour.

He’s being friendly, you tell yourself. Neighbourly. It would be awkward if he chose a washer at the other end of the room, wouldn’t it? Yes. Yes, that would be awkward.

“D’you do anything fun this weekend?” he asks as he empties his basin into the tub, pouring a cub of powdered detergent over it—the same type you use.

Leaning against your machine, you watch him from out of the corner of your eye, trying to silence your inner thoughts—at least enough to not let any of your unfounded suspiciousness leak into your voice. “Mh-no, not really. I just studied. What about you?”

He turns the machine on, smiling lazily while saying, “Nah…” then turns around, mirroring your leaning stance, standing shoulder to shoulder. “Though I heard one of the frathouses had a party…”

He tilts his head down, looking at you—friendly-faced, asking, “You didn’t go?”

You try to stop yourself, but you blanche despite the effort. Head hot, you fold your arms over your chest, hugging yourself a little.

There was a party? When? This weekend? How come… nobody told you?

You swallow, unable to look back at him—suddenly feeling a little bit sick. 

“Uhm… no,” you say. “I didn’t feel up to it...”

His eyes slim at your obvious lie, but you don’t see it—now too wrapped up in your own embarrassment to pay attention.

His smile curls. You’re an open book if there ever was one.

But you don’t have to feel embarrassed. Of course, you didn’t go to the party. You didn’t even know there was one. And how could you? When he broke into your locker and took the invitation—just as he’s done with all the other party fliers every single week. 

“Not your thing?” he says, trying to hold back his glee.

You still don’t look at him—too chagrined—looking like you want to dig a hole and bury yourself in it. “I guess so…”

Oh, he could just lick that expression right off your cute little face.

“Not mine either,” he chuckles, rummaging through the bag at his hip, pulling out a book, and flashing the cover to you with a grin. “I’m more of a book club type of guy.”

You blink. Reading the title with big round eyes.

“Have you joined one yet?”

You look at him then, shaking your head, “Oh, no—uhm, I couldn’t decide…”

He hands you the book. You receive it in both hands. Your fingers brushing each other.

“You should join us then,” he offers. “You’re gonna get burned out if all you read is textbooks, y'know?”

He watches your eyes widen—looking like a peasant, beholding him as a saint who’s just offered you shelter from the storm.

“Thank you...”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Shinso ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo, Megumi, Yuuta ♡ HQ – Sugawara, Kuro ♡ CSM – Aki, Yoshida ♡ AOT – Armin ♡ DS – Tomioka, Tanjiro, Zenitsu ♡ HxH – Kurapika, Leorio ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

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

[classyrbf]

WE'RE JUST FRIENDS! — SHOKO IEIRI

SYNOPSIS...since high school you and shoko have been known to be two peas in a pod, the bestest of friends but only you two know what happens behind closed doors

INFO...shoko x fem!reader, top!shoko, phone sex(?), vibrators, fingering, oral (reader!receiving), hidden relationship, praise, sweet ending, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Since high school you and Shoko were always known as the two girls around jujutsu high. Dare I say, you were the female version of Gojo and Geto. You and Shoko instantly clicked, always joking and laughing, messing around with Geto and Gojo just for the fun of it. Sometimes, you two would sneak around behind the school to share a cigarette. It wasn’t until both of you graduated that you ended up finding her attractive. She grew her hair out longer, started embracing her role in the jujutsu society and you’d always steal glances from her.

The accidental hand touching as she breezed past you, the little smirks she’d give you across the room when a higher up was yapping her ear off. It was until about 4 years of yearning that both of you finally caught the hint. Well, you caught the hint. Shoko always had a thing for you, at least that’s what you found out when she was knuckles deep in your pussy.

“I’ve always liked you, y/n.” She smiled against your skin, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Her fingers massaged your g-spot as she whispered in your ear. “I was starting to think that maybe you didn’t like me back, you know? But now look at you,” she chuckled, turning her gaze toward your sopping pussy.

One hookup led to two and then another and then another. You and Shoko became absolutely addicted to each other. It got to the point where you couldn’t even make yourself cum if you weren’t thinking about her. Sometimes you’d even call her late hours in the night just to hear her voice, asking her to help you cum.

“You’re so close aren’t you, baby?” She cooed. “You need my help, huh? Yeah?” She smiled to herself as she heard you whimper out her name. “Facetime me, I wanna watch.” In just mere second you were facetiming her while she sat at her desk going over some stupid paper work that she couldn’t care less about right now. “Look at how fucking wet you are because of me. Go ahead and keep rubbing your clit. Get right on the fucking edge.”

Each time, you came so hard just because of her. You wanted more and more each time, wanted to show her how much you needed her right there with you.

Each time you, her, Geto, and Gojo hung out, it was almost like nothing ever happened. The boys never became suspicious of anything because you and Shoko kept treating each other like you have all those past years. Like friends. Talking about the latest fashion, that new movie with the controversial actor, complaining about your job, things that friends would normally talk about.

But later on, you’d drive to the middle of an empty field, too eager to make it back to the house, her mouth around your nipples, licking, sucking and biting while you moaned and whimpered like a bitch in heat. “You looked so pretty in this skirt today.” She smile up at you, pecking your lips.

“I wore it for you,” you muttered between moans.

“Yeah? How thoughtful of you to give me easy access to this pretty pussy.” She sloppily kissed between your breasts and down your stomach while her fingertips pulled at the hem of your panties.

“Sho, what if someone catches us out—mmmph—here!” You sit up on your elbows, breathing heavily as she tosses your panties on the car floor and pushes your skirt up. She completely ignores your question, laying her tongue flat on your clit. “Oh fuckkk.” And suddenly all your worries went away.

Recently, all the jujustu sorcerers and anyone involved in the jujustu society were invited to a party. Of course you had to go and everyone else as well despite you lacking the energy to stand around and talk to people you didn’t know all day.

When you arrived, you hung out with your usual group. People you went to high school with. Geto, Gojo, Nanami, Haibara, Utahime, and of course Shoko. You damn near choked on your drink when she walked through the doors. Her makeup looked like it prepared by the gods and her dress hugged her figure so good it felt like your eyes were about to pop out of your head if your stared too long.

Shoko could say the same about you, the color you were wearing complimented your skin tone perfectly and gloss that made your lips shine under the light had her wanting to kiss and bite them right then and there. “Hey guys!” She simply greeted.

Hours went by already, boredom plaguing your mind as you watched Geto and Gojo act a fool on the dance floor, drunk out of there minds. Nanami had snuck out early, which you can’t blame him for. Haibara was chatting it up with Utahime in a corner for seemed like an hour now and that only left you and Shoko.

“Having fun?” She leaned towards you, sipping from her glass.

“No. My feet are killing me and this dress is too damn tight.” You shifted in the fabric, gripping your champagne glass tighter. You could feel her eyes rake over your entire body, but dare didn’t turn in her direction.

“Your ass looks great by the way. Maybe I’ll help you get out that dress later tonight?” She raised a brow, waiting for a response.

“Shoko, hush!” You looked around the room to see if anyone had heard which made her laugh.

“Who gives a fuck if anyone hears. Two girls fucking, so what? People need to get with the times.” She shook her head. “They’re missing out.” A sigh left her lips.

“What are you saying?” A smirked tugged at the corner of your lips as you leaned against the bar.

“I’m saying, you’re great in bed, hot stuff. We’ve been having sex for what…? 2 years now?” She reached into her clutch, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter. “Wanna smoke?” She nodded her head in the direction of the balcony.

“Fuck it.” You two both walked outside, the music playing over the speakers began fading, replaced with the annoying sounds of crickets and the occasional owl hooting somewhere in the trees. She lit the cigarette, taking the first drag before handing it over to you.

“So how long are we gonna keep up this ‘just friends’ act, huh?” She asked, watching you blow out the excess smoke. “We’re nearly together every day, fucking every week, if not every day.” She grabs the cigarette from between your fingers.

“Are you saying you wanna date me, Ieri Shoko?” You tease, smiling at her. “The Ieiri Shoko wants to date someone? I thought you didn’t like labels?”

“Oh fuck off,” she laughed, waving her hand at you. “Yeah, yeah, I said what I said, but can a girl not change her mind?” She turned to look at you, her eyes boring into yours as she put out the cigarette, tossing it. You looked away nervously, smiling down at the floor. “How about we say fuck this party and go back to mine, huh? Maybe it’ll help you think of an answer.”

As soon as you and Shoko made it to her apartment, you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. She messily kissed you, hastily pulling down the straps of your dress while kicking her heels off and tossing her clutch to the floor. “I want you so fucking bad, all of the time,” she said between kisses.

Within minutes you were on her bed, sitting between her legs as she had a vibrator pressed to your pussy, her other hand twisting and pulling at your hard nipples. “Fuckkk, Shoko!” You gasped, legs twitching as the waves of pleasure shooting through your body. “I’m gonna fucking cum!” You moan.

She rubbed the vibrator up and down your clit, massaging it into your poor, sensitive pussy. “Getting desperate, baby?” She craned her neck down, her lips connecting with yours, kissing you with such fervor. You grinded your hips into the vibrator, moaning into her mouth as you felt your orgasm approaching quickly. She pulled away from the kiss, spit connecting to both of your lips as she stared into your eyes with such lust and desire. “You cumming? Yeah? Yeah, there you go let it out. Yes!” She smiled, lifting her head to watch how your body writhed above her and your heavenly moans bounced off the walls of her bedroom.

She turned off the vibrator, tossing it to the side. Her fingers grazed over your pussy, tapping it lightly, hearing your wetness as you begged to be fucked. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” She kissed down your neck, teasing your entrance with her fingers, pushing them in and out slowly.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” you breathy chuckle.

“Oh, yeah? I can show you a tease.” She began reaching into her beside drawer.

“No, no! I was kidding!” You laugh, pulling her arm back. “Come here.” You gather strength to sit upright, facing towards her. Her cheeks are tinted pink and her skin was glowing under the light. “I think you’re beautiful too.” You cup her face in your hands.

“Getting all sappy on me now?” She pulled you onto her lap so you were straddling her.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes, smiling as you leaned into the kiss. This time it wasn’t rushed or sloppy. You felt every moment, every movement, and every thought. Shoko deepened the kiss, pulling you closer against her chest, hugging you tighter. Your tongues moved against each other slowly, biting and sucking on her bottom lip before pulling away. “I like doing this with you.”

“Yeah?” She asked, you nod in return. “Does that mean what I think it means?” She dragged her index finger along your jaw.

“If we’re talking about the same thing, then yes—mmph!” She kissed you again with so much force, your back hit the plush comforter beneath you.

“I’m even more turned on knowing you’re mine now. Fuck me,” she said in disbelief.

“Well who said we had to stop?” You bite your lip, sitting up on your elbows. Shoko stared at you for few seconds and without saying a word, her hands gravitated to your thighs, spreading them apart, wasting zero time in putting her face in your pussy. A small gasp escapes your throat when she gently kisses your clit, the tip of her tongue rolling it in circles. “God, Sho!” You fall back on the bed, stuck in the blissful headspace.

The flat of her tongue works its way through your soppy folds, licking up your juices and tasting them on her tongue. She watches the way your face contorts in pleasure, your hands reaching up to play with your tits, pulling at your taut nipples. She sucks on your clit for little, earning a high pitched moan from you, smirking at your reaction. She knows how sensitive it still must be.

“Pussy tastes so good, baby. Mmm,” she moans, slurping on your clit and your folds, spitting directly onto your cunt before licking it back up again.

“Yes, yes, just like that!” You nod, biting down on your lip as you watch the way she eats your pussy like a pro. “Feels so fucking good.” Your toes curl as you hook your hands under your legs, pulling them back farther. “Yes, fuck!” Your eyes roll back when she pulls back the hood your clit, exposing it which made all the more difference.

“Play with those pretty tits for me, baby.” She lifts her head to catch her breath, her lips and chin coated in your slick. She looks so fucking good it makes you even more wet. You reach your hand up once more, cupping your breast and pulling at your nipple while she watches with a smile. “Good girl.” He her hot tongue swirls around your swollen clit once more, messily eating your pussy cause that’s how she knows you like it.

“I’m so close, baby, right fucking there, Sho.” Your jaw drops open, your hand finding home in her hair, pushing her face in deeper. “Shit, shit! Yes, I’m so fucking close!” You gasp, rutting your hips against her face like a bitch in heat. Shoko hums in amusement, looking up at you, making direct eye contact, wanting to watch you cum on her tongue. “I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” Your legs shake uncontrollably, grabbing a fistful of her hair tighter as you come undone. Your back into the mattress, still coming down from your orgasm. “Oh fuck,” you breathe.

Shoko finally lifts her head, pleased with herself, the biggest smile on her face. “You still alive, hot stuff?” She hovers over you.

“Barely.” You murmur, looking at her through your hazy state. “How do you always make me cum that hard?” You groaned, chest heaving up and down.

“Um, I have my ways.” She jokes, falling beside you. She softly kisses your shoulder. “Need some water or something?” She asks softly.

“Not right now. I can’t even think straight.” You flip over, facing her.

“I made you cum so hard I rewired your brain? That’s new.” She said with a hint of sarcasm. You playfully shoved her shoulder. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” She pulled you in close to her. “So does this mean—”

“That we get to tell Geto and Gojo. Yes. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were also dating each other.” You furrowed your brows at the thought of it.

“You’re oddly right. Gojo was damn near twerking on Geto earlier.” Shoko stared up at the ceiling, running her fingers over your skin.

“Wait, really?!” You asked with sudden surprise.

“You didn’t see? Geto got real close behind Gojo. One inch more and boom! Contact.” Shoko nodded, trying to hold in her laugh.

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the thought of Gojo twerking especially on Geto. “Oh my gosh! Just imagine Gojo throwing it back for Geto!” You cackled, Shoko laughing in return.

“Oh no! Do not put that image in my mind!” She cringed, clenching her eyes shut.

“Maybe Geto slips him a twenty for a lap dance. You never know,” you roll over laughing, barely able to breathe.

“Oh my goodness! Shut up!” Shoko covers her mouth, pushing you away from her. “Stop! I can’t!”

“Okay, okay,” you breathe heavily, scooting closer to her again. “I’ll stop.” You rest your head on her shoulder again.

She kisses the top of your head. “I love this. I’ll never get tired of it. The laughs, the sex, your warmth, your smile. You.”You sit up to look at her with a complex expression. “What?”

“Since when did you get all poetic with your words? I guess the sex must’ve rewired your brain too—” Shoko rolls her eyes at your words, covering your mouth with her hand.

“I try to be all lovey dovey and this is what I get? Sickening.”

[aliceoseman]

s3 dealt with some more mature themes than s1&2 did, did you struggle with that in any way or did it feel like a natural development for the characters? especially since heartstopper has been praised specifically for being a "wholesome" show basically from the start, did you find it in any way daunting to write (more) sex and alcohol into the show?

(Upon reading this back, I have only talked about sex, not alcohol, very sorry!! Also this gets really off topic but this was the only question I received about sex in the show and I have a lot to say that I just didn't get asked about at all in any promo interviews, so... Here I shall word vomit!!)

Short answer: Yes, I struggled, but not with the writing of the story - just with the general discourse about sex/no sex in Heartstopper, since the beginning of the show.

Long answer:

It wasn't something I struggled with when writing the comic. I always knew that Heartstopper would get to that point - that it would grow up alongside the characters - but the general cultural view of the show as 'wholesome' vs. the criticism of it for being 'puritanical' and 'sexless' has definitely made me feel quite anxious about how these maturer elements would be interpreted by people in the show.

I never saw Heartstopper as 'wholesome' when I started creating the comic. The first chapter of the comic leads to a scene featuring assault, and the story deals heavily with mental health and bullying. The comic has swearing throughout. Whether the story was 'wholesome' was simply not a topic of discourse before the TV show released - I knew it was uplifting and optimistic, of course, but only in the same way that most YA romance stories are. So the public declaration of the Heartstopper show as 'wholesome' - as its defining characteristic and unique selling point - did take me by surprise. I'd had to remove the swearing from the story, but aside from that, I couldn't really understand what was different with the show compared to the comic, and why this was its defining feature. And then of course some of the conversation shifted to the fact that in S1 and S2, there's no sex.

This too confused me. I always felt the sexual attraction between N&C was obvious from the start, and sex itself was introduced into the story at the time I felt was right for the characters, with no real thought as to whether the audience would agree with me. People hardly ever pointed out the lack of sex in the comic - it's very, very normal for YA fiction romances to not feature sex, and in fact, it's actually pretty common for teen movies and shows to not feature sex, certainly when they skew towards younger teens as Heartstopper did in S1 and S2. But for some reason, when the Heartstopper show came around, people really, really noticed the lack of sex, and I was very surprised by that reaction. I wonder if it was because people weren't accustomed to that in queer TV, or if it was because people liked N&C so much as a couple and desperately wanted to see them take that step, or just because people felt it was broadly unrealistic for a teen couple to wait a little while before feeling ready to have sex. Perhaps it was all. But whatever it was, it caused some... outcry!

(I could go into arguments as to whether it is morally correct or generally realistic for N&C to wait before having sex in the story, but ultimately I think people's opinion on that varies heavily depending on their worldview and personal experience, and there's no right answer - people can like it or not like it and that's completely fine, not every tv show is for everyone - but the one thing I would say is that I think it shows young readers/viewers that it's OKAY to not be ready, and how to have that conversation with your partner, and I think that's a really, really good and helpful thing for young people)

Fortunately for those who were distressed by the lack of sex in the show, and for me who was anxious about all of that criticism, I'd been planning for the story to reach that stage pretty soon anyway. It honestly made me relieved that it was going to be introduced, if only to reassure people that I wasn't pretending sex doesn't exist or that I, as an asexual, was spreading some sort of anti-sex agenda (seemed to be a common refrain among those who find it particularly annoying that I'm ace). But mainly - I'd always known this would be a really important step in N&C's journey, and I wanted to do it justice, and I felt I had done so in the comic, but with the TV show came all of those opinions and discourse, so I was much more nervous about it and spent a lot of time during the writing process trying to figure out how people would feel about it. An impossible task, and before S3 released, I had no idea what the reaction would be.

In the end it was pretty anti-climactic - it got hyped up a bit too much in the early promo for S3, and then the general consensus was that the sex in the show was shown with a very light touch, and some people thought that was a good thing and others did not. And people still call the show sexless and puritanical, so it didn't really solve that issue. (I'm just not sure what those people really expected to happen - obviously they are not going to suddenly start fucking on screen in a show that's been previously marketed for the 12-16 age bracket, guys, let's use our brains here) Personally, I'm really proud of how that element of the story turned out. I think the scenes are really beautiful and feel totally right for the tone of the story, and have let the show mature without suddenly becoming an entirely different show.

This has been a long answer but I think what I'm trying to say is this: the 'mature' vs 'wholesome' scale of Heartstopper is something that has never been a topic of discourse for the comic. But it has been front and centre for the show, and certainly is something that has caught me off guard and caused me some anxiety, because I do see the criticism and it does hurt, and at times feels incredibly personal. But at the end of the day, I'm just telling a story, and the things that happen will happen at the time I feel is right for the characters. I just want to tell the story that I've set out to tell, and I intend to keep doing so until it is done.

If we get a S4, and indeed now that I am working on Vol 6, I am thinking much less about how the audience might react to the sex in the story, and am simply just writing/drawing what feels emotionally and dramatically right for the story and characters. And that feels much more creatively freeing!

[astudyinimagination]

THANK YOU, OP.

"like no you're not actually going to be able to normalize a lot of stuff, because it's statistically unusual or aberrant. you can't normalize shit that is not by any definition normal."

LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK.

and also it's okay! it's okay that some things are not normal!

I AM WEIRD. I am a pile of traumas and abandonment issues and so very little of me is NORMAL, but that doesn't make me BAD. I don't WANT my weirdness to be normalized. I just want it to be respected. doesn't even have to be understood, just respected. and I deserve to be loved, regardless of whether I'm "normal" or "weird."

it's okay. it's not bad to be weird. it just is what it is.

'can we normalize this'

'we need to normalize that'

can you all shut the fuck up for a minute and reconsider how constantly demanding normalization only retrenches the moral position that weird = bad?

like no you're not actually going to be able to normalize a lot of stuff, because it's statistically unusual or aberrant. you can't normalize shit that is not by any definition normal.

what you need to do is fucking stand up for the weirdos, freaks, and deviants, and remind everyone who is normal that their position just makes them normal. not good, not right, not correct, not better, not perfect, not beyond reproach or improvement.

being weird isn't bad. stop normalizing that, already.

[eufezco]

A FRESH START 𓂃 𓈒 ❀

synopsis — after leaving wakanda, bucky starts to rediscover who he is while living with you, slowly bulding a new life. his dispair deepens and you offer him a fresh start with a simple act: cutting his hair.

angst. fluff

—you have to stop thinking that every time something good is happening to you it's because something worse is on the way. that´s not a way to live, buck —. you said softly, your voice steady but with a hint of concern.

bucky shook his head, running a hand over his face as a sign of desperation. if only he could remember what life felt like before hydra took him, before all those wasted years. after so long he was still trying to figure it out, still trying to find a version of himself that didn’t feel like a stranger. trying to get used to his new life in the city, far from the peace he had known in wakanda. all these sudden changes only made him more confused and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to adjust, it was that he didn’t know how.

it had been a almost a year since bucky had moved in with you, since you had defeated thanos and steve had left. when the dora milaje declared him ready to live a normal life, bucky stood there, unsure of what that even meant. he had no place to go. louisiana crossed his mind for a moment, sam had always extended an open invitation but the thought of intruding on sam’s family life stopped him, and steve was gone, something he chose not to think much about, so for the first time in over a century, bucky was truly on his own.

except he wasn’t. you were there.

when you found out he needed a place, you didn’t think about it twice. he resisted at first. ayo told him you were the right person to star building his new life. you trust her, you trust her more than you admit. that is where you begin. trust. she is the right person to help you build this new life, james.

and he couldn't remember what you two had shared before hydra took him, before everything fell apart but there was a pull. by the things steve told him, you three were best friends once, inseparable. he spoke of nights you spent laughing, of how he’d head home early, leaving you and bucky behind, knowing that bucky would arrive later, with a big smile on his lips. steve chuckled when he mentioned your lipstick, smeared on bucky’s mouth when he finally made it back. you never wiped it off, you wore it like a badge of honor.

bucky tried to imagine it, those moments of joy but the memories never came. but he could still feel it. he felt it that day in wakanda, when you arrived with steve and natasha to fight thanos. you smiled at him, just a brief moment in the chaos, but it stayed with him. there was something so familiar about that smile, something warm and he felt it too every time you visited him or sent him what had once been his favorite sweets, little reminders of a life he no longer remembered but somehow still carried with him.

so, he showed up at your door a few days later, a bag hung over his shoulder and a sad look in his eyes. he didn't try to argue this time. —you sure about this?

you didn’t hesitate. —absolutely.

living with bucky was easy. he was quiet, he didn't need much space. after months, he started making it his place too, little by little. he left his shoes by the door beside yours, the book he picked up from one of your shelves appeared on the coffee table, his leather jacket draped over the back of a chair.

—it's not that easy —. he murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

you watched him. —i know it’s not, —you said softly, stepping closer to him. —but you don’t have to do it all at once. no one expects that from you.

he shook his head again. —feels like they do, —he said, his blue eyes looking directly into yours. you could see the sadness and the guilt of the moments he couldn’t take back. —feels like every time i mess up, it’s just proof that i don’t belong here. as if this life was not made for me —his voice was low, barely more than a murmur. —what if the only thing i'm good at is killing?

you took a deep breath. it was hard to hear him say that, to see the man you’d known before hydra, who was your best friend and the love of your life, now drowning in self-doubt and guilt. —you’re more than what they made you.

—am i? because that’s all i’ve ever done. all i know how to do.

—but it’s not who you are, it’s what they forced you to be. the fact that you’re even asking this? that you’re fighting to be someone better? that’s proof enough that that wasn't you at all.

he closed his eyes tightly and ran his hands through the long strands of his hair. for a moment, you just stood there, watching him. you wanted to pull him back from whatever dark place his thoughts had taken him, but you hesitated, ayo told you to do so, to let him space to feel this, to fight against it, even if it hurt.

—i can still feel him inside my head, i can hear his thoughts. he's not gone.

bucky’s fingers suddenly grabbed the roots of his hair with a little more force. his breathing grew faster, his hands shook and his eyes squeezed shut. you couldn't see how deep his pain was and not do anything to stop him from hurting himself.

you stepped closer. —bucky, hey… —your hands sneaked into his hair, softly pulling his grip from his scalp. his hands were trembling, and for a moment, there was resistance in him like he wasn’t sure he wanted to let go of the only thing he could hold onto. but your touch was soft, familiar and something shifted, almost imperceptible, but you could feel the tension in him loosen.

—the bucky i knew isn’t gone. he’s still in there. i see him every time you fight for something good, every time you try to make amends, every time you care about the people around you, about me.

his shoulders fell, and his head hung low, he didn’t want you to see him like this, weak and broken. but you had seen him in his darkest moments as the winter soldier and you had experienced thanos taking him away from you with the blip. the years without him had been a painful, you thought you lost him forever. yet there he was, standing before you, alive, and you weren’t about to let him go again.

your hands gently moved to push the back of his head, guiding him to rest his forehead on your shoulder. he was still a bit unsure about how to handle this type of physical contact, used to years of torture, where touch always meant pain, control, or something to fear. now you held him close to your body, his arms hanging limply at his sides.

—why don’t i cut your hair?

—cut my hair?

—yeah, it´ll help you to see yourself in a different way. a fresh start.

bucky pulled back a little, he wasn’t sure if you were joking. —you think cutting my hair will fix everything?

you smiled softly, you wished it could be that easy. —no, —you admitted. —but ayo told your new life will be built on small things.

bucky sighed.

the idea of letting go parts of himself that tied him to the winter soldier felt like a whole world. first, it was his metal arm, the one with the red star, when tony ripped it off of him, bucky felt relieved, like tony was cutting one of the heads of the hydra to end the monster. in wakanda, he learned to live using only his flesh-and-blood arm until they gave him a new one which he only intended to use for good.

and now you were asking to cut his hair.

—ayo did say that, didn’t she? —he murmured, almost to himself.

—she’s a smart woman and besides, it’s just a haircut. if you hate it, it’ll grow back.

a small smile appeared in his lips. —if it ends up bad, i’m blaming you.

you took a chair from the kitchen to the bathroom and he sat down in front of the mirror. bucky stared at his reflection as he pressed his lips into a thin line and sighed. he didn't like mirrors, he avoided them as much as he could. he didn't like the person staring back at him, he didn't know who that man was and now sitting on that chair there was no escape.

there was a difference this time. next to one of the things he most hated to look at—his reflection—was one of the things he liked the most to look at—you.

his blue eyes moved from his reflection to yours. you stood behind him and ran your hands gently through his hair. he felt that familiar tickle in his stomach, the one he first felt almost a century ago and that, even after all the years, it hadn't gone away.

he felt it every morning when you entered the kitchen, hair a mess from sleep, mumbling a soft “good morning” to him. he felt it when he came home in the evenings and dinner was ready and you were sitting at the table, waiting for him. he felt it most when you would fell asleep on the couch and he had to carry you to your bed, careful not to wake you. and you'd ask him in your sleep to stay, and he'd freeze, he wanted to say yes, he wanted to stay. but he couldn’t risk it, his nightmares were still too real. so bucky would gently place you in your bed, making sure you were well tucked in, and whisper, i’ll be in my room, if you need anything.

—are you ready? —you asked him, bringing him back from his thoughts. you already had the scissors in your hand and bucky shifted in the chair at the sight of them. —it'll be okay, buck.

—feels like more than just a haircut.

you nodded, understanding. —well, that's what we wanted, isn't it?

bucky swallowed and nodded.

—why don't you close your eyes? i'll let you know when i'm done.

with a deep breath, he did as you said. your lips curved into a small smile even though he could no longer see you. you were aware of all the progress he had made. you knew he trusted you with his heart because on no other occasion he would willingly keep his eyes closed with someone standing behind him, scissors in hand and when your hands rested on his shoulders, he hadn’t flinched at the contact.

—okay, i'll start.

with his eyes closed it was much easier to feel the delicacy with which you treated him. the way your fingers combed through his scalp and then the sound of the scissors, followed by the sensation of the strands falling and taking with them the weight he had carried for so long. and you talked, about anything that crossed your mid so he did not feel that he was in danger or he had to be alert at any time.

—maybe we could get a cat, —you said. —i think it’d be nice. do you think you’d be a good cat parent?

—maybe —. he said after a pause. —i definitely prefer a cat to a dog.

you switched to the clippers, you left the hair at the top of his head a little longer, while the rest of it was cut shorter. a very chic haircut for someone born in 1917. you carefully checked that his hair was even and then you styled it with your fingers.

—okay, i'm done, you can open your eyes.

bucky hesitated for a moment, then opened his eyes. your breath caught in surprise as you watched him take in the sight of himself. it was like having the bucky you once knew staring right at you through the mirror. his features were the same, just a bit more more defined and mature.

he felt the same relief as when tony ripped off the metal arm that hydra embedded in his body, like a part of him that had once been used against him, now freed. he turned his head slowly to both sides to get a better look and to be honest, he liked his new look. physically, he could see the resemblance to the man in the photos you had shown him, the young soldier who smiled to you, in love.

—how do you feel? i think it suits you —. you asked gently.

bucky nodded. —i like it —. he caught your gaze in the mirror. the eye contact was so intense that you had to look away. you cleared your throat, hoping to ease the tension, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.

—alright, come on, —you tapped his shoulder for him to stand up. — i'm going to sweep your hair off the floor.

bucky got up from the chair and turned his head to look at you, not through the mirror this time, but directly, and the sudden closeness made your breath hitch. —thank you for doing this.

—you don't need to thank me, buck. i'm glad it turned out well, it was my first time doing it.

—you sure about that? —he asked—it doesn’t feel like it was your first time.

you laughed, still avoiding his gaze. —guess we got lucky, then.

there was a silence; you were both too close, but not close enough yet. bucky’s eyes moved to your lips for just a fraction of a second, but it was enough to make your heart race. you could both feel the tension, an invisible string pulling you toward each other, daring one of you to close the gap. you didn’t want to take the first step, you didn’t want to push him into something he wasn’t ready for, the last thing you wanted was to break the fragile trust he’d built with you.

you opened your mouth to say something but he talked first.

—can i kiss you? —his voice was low, almost shy.

you were surprised because you didn't expected him to ask so directly, but consent was so important to him. he spent too many years under someone else’s control, forced into actions that weren’t his own, and now he was determined never to cross those lines. it wasn’t just about asking to kiss you, it was about making sure that you were comfortable, that you wanted this just as much as he did.

—yeah, —you whispered —you can.

bucky stepped closer, his flesh-and-blood hand reaching to cup your cheek, his fingers gently brushing against your skin. he leaned in, his movements careful, giving you every chance to pull away. but you didn’t. you leaned into him instead, your lips finally meeting his.

he felt strange. he had wanted to kiss you for what felt like forever, and now that he had, he wasn’t sure what to do next. his mind raced, trying to remember how this was supposed to go. he forgot about kissing, forgot about the rhythm of it, the give and take. his hand slipped from your cheek to fall awkwardly at his side as he pulled away from your lips just enough just to say:

—i don't... i don't remember how to do this.

—it's okay. you're doing just fine. there’s no right or wrong way. just… follow me.

this time, when your lips met, you moved slowly, guiding him. his tension disappeared as he mirrored your movements, his right hand returned to your cheek, the other, his metal one, moved to hold your hips. it wasn’t perfect, the movements of his lips were still hesitant, but there was something honest about the way he kissed you.

as he kissed you, bucky became more aware of his body and where his hands were and realized that his metal hand was resting lightly on your waist. he pulled the hand away quickly. —i'm sorry, i didn't mean to...

you shook your head, one of your hands flew to the back of his neck to connect your lips while your other one grabbed his vibranium arm and guided his hand to where it was before. as the kiss deepened, you felt him relax, stop worrying about whether he was doing it right or wrong, about the touch of his cold hand on your skin, and he just kissed you.

you hummed before parting ways. his cheeks were flushed, his lips were a bit swollen and glossy, his breathing a little uneven and you couldn't help a little laugh from escaping your lips.

—okay, now you're just laughing at me.

—you're so cute, buck.

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 3

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry) 

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Currently thinking this will have like 5-7 parts?

She wasn't fine. Colette was so far from fine that it wasn't even funny anymore.

And now her twin brother had decided to chime in with his own opinions, pouring oil into the fire. 

The thought of the media dissecting every word, every gesture, every expression was unbearable. And still, she couldn't stop herself from doomscrolling.

Colette was in a state of constant anxiety, unable to stop herself from scrolling through social media and the news articles. She knew it wasn't helping her, that it was only adding to her stress, but she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from the screen.

Every article, every comment, every thread seemed to only add to her worry. The criticism, the speculation, the accusations...it was all too much. But she couldn't look away or stop herself from reading every word, no matter how much it hurt.

She was stuck in a vicious, spiralling cycle, seeking out the information, even though she knew it was bad for her. 

The hormones and the pregnancy symptoms didn't make it any better either. 

The hormones made her emotions more intense, her anxiety more pronounced, and the pregnancy symptoms only added to the stress and discomfort. She wanted desperately for it to end, but it seemed like it would never stop.

The worst of it all was the constant swirl of thoughts in her head. The worry and fear, the relentless stream of "what-if" scenarios.

And the most terrifying thought of all: what if her stress was hurting the baby? The idea that her anxiety could harm the little life growing inside her was a constant one, always at the front of her mind.

“Eat, Choupinette,” her mother insisted. Colette stared down at her plate. Porridge and fruit and whatever else was supposed to be good for her these days. 

But her appetite was nonexistent. The weight of everything that was happening, the thoughts and fears that were running through her mind...it made it difficult to even think about food.

"Eat, Choupinette," her mother insisted again, clearly concerned. "You need to eat something, for the baby's sake. You're too pale."

“I am..”

“You aren’t fine,” her mother cut her off with a disbelieving snort. "You're pale, you haven't been eating properly, and you look like you haven't slept in weeks."

"And don't even try to tell me that the pregnancy is doing that," her mother added, her tone firm. "I had three pregnancies, I know how tiring it is. This isn't just normal exhaustion."

Colette knew that her mother was right. The pregnancy, while exhausting, wasn’t the reason. It was the anxiety, the worry, the stress...it was all taking its toll on her.

But she also knew that there was nothing she could do about it. The situation was out of her control, even if it was affecting her directly.

It was her own fault why she was in this situation to begin with. 

“I was so stupid.” Colette's shoulders slumped as she muttered under her breath. Her mother shook her head, disagreeing with the assessment.

 "It wasn't the smartest thing," her mother admitted. "But the media is blowing it out of proportion. They're making an elephant out of a fly."

It was a sentiment that Colette wholeheartedly agreed with. But at the same time, she knew that the media was relentless in their pursuit of a story. 

And Colette’s and Max's relationship would be the juiciest scandal they had gotten their hands on in a long, long time.

“I don’t want this to fall back on Charles,” Colette whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

Her brother had worked so hard to be where he was, at the pinnacle of motorsport…to drive for the team he loved so much. 

She didn’t want to get Charles into any trouble. It wasn’t his fault. It was all on her. And any scandal, any whiff of controversy, could potentially ruin everything Charles had worked so hard for.

Her mother's words were calm, but they hit hard. "Your brother is an adult," she repeated. "He can make his own decisions. And he was the one who decided he wanted to protect you. You didn’t force him to do anything, Choupinette."

Colette knew that her mother was right. Charles was a grown man, capable of making his own decisions. But that didn't make her worry any less.

Her phone rang, her hand immediately shooting out for it. It was Max. Her hand was almost shaking as she answered the call.

"Maxie," she breathed, relief and worry mixing in her voice.

Max's voice was gentle, a soothing balm in the storm of chaos that was swirling around her. "Hey liefje," he repeated, the affectionate nickname rolling off his tongue.

Colette closed her eyes for a moment, relishing the sound of his voice.

"What are you up to?" Max inquired, his tone soft. 

"I'm having breakfast with Maman," she replied, glancing at her mother, who was watching her carefully.  

There was a moment of silence on the line, but she could almost picture Max's expression. He was no doubt worrying just as much as she was, if not more. "How are you doing?" he finally asked, his voice laced with concern. 

Colette let out a shaky sigh, her emotions warring inside her.

She wanted to lie. Wanted to tell him that she was fine. But Max and her had made themselves a promise ages ago. If there was one thing that Max hated, then it was lying. Even little white lies like this. They didn’t lie. They didn’t sugarcoat. They told the truth. Regardless of how hurtful it could be. 

They told each other the truth. Always. 

“Tired,” she answered weakly. 

"I heard you've been stalking social media again," Max's voice was dry, a hint of disapproval in his tone.

"Charles should really mind his own business," she bit back, her irritation at her twin brother evident. There was just one person that Max could have learnt that from. 

There was a pause, and she knew that Max was choosing his words carefully.  "He's just worried," he said finally. "We all are."

Colette huffed, her irritation at being coddled smouldering. "I don't need everyone to worry about me," she retorted, her tone snippier than she intended.

"We're not doing it to annoy you," Max replied, his voice gentle but firm. "We're doing it because we care about you.  I'm worried about you, liefje."

Those words were like a knife through the heart. She could hear the worry and concern in his voice, and it made her feel guilty for being so snappy with him.

Sassy chose that moment to come to jump up on her lap and she petted the Bengal cat absent-mindedly as she made herself a home on Colette’s lap. 

"I know you are," she said quietly. "I'm sorry. I just..." she trailed off, unsure of how to put her mixed feelings into words. Sassy purred softly. 

"It's okay," Max reassured her, his voice low and soothing. "I know it's hard. But please, try to take care of yourself. For me. For Bébé."

Colette felt the tears well up in her eyes again. She wanted to tell him that she was trying, that she was doing her best. But the words lodged in her throat, replaced by a thick lump of emotion.

"I'm trying," she managed to say, hating how weak and shaky her voice sounded.

"I know you are," Max murmured, his voice full of understanding. "But you need to rest, to eat. You're not doing yourself or the baby any favors by skipping meals and staying glued to your phone."

Colette knew he was right. The lack of food and sleep was taking its toll on her health and her baby. But the stress, and the worry, it made it hard to find an appetite or to switch off her brain.

"I know," she whispered, feeling helpless and frustrated. Max sighed softly on the other end of the line. 

"I wish I could be there," he said, the longing in his voice palpable.

"Me too," she whispered, her heart aching with the weight of their separation.

"I hate being apart during all of this," he mumbled, a rare show of vulnerability from him. "I should be there with you, taking care of you, protecting you from all this damn media noise."

Colette's eyes welled with tears again at his words. "You are taking care of me," she reassured him, her voice thick with emotion. "Just hearing your voice helps more than you know."

"It's not enough," he retorted, his voice firm again. "I should be there, not just talking with you over the phone. I should be able to hold you, to make sure you eat and sleep properly."

Colette could picture the fierce expression on his face, the set of his jaw. She could almost feel the intensity of his gaze, his desire to protect and care for her. But she could also hear the frustration and helplessness in his voice.

"Max," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "It's not your fault. You're doing everything you can."

Max let out another sigh, a sound full of frustration and helplessness. "It doesn't feel like it," he mumbled, his voice betraying his emotions. "I feel so useless here, stuck continents away while you're dealing with all of this alone."

Colette's heart ached at his words. She wanted to assure him that he wasn't useless, that his support through the phone and the occasional visit meant the world to her. But she also understood how powerless he felt, how useless he must feel, miles and miles away from her.

"You're not useless," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the tears threatening to fall. "You're the only thing keeping me sane right now."

There was a pause on the line, and she could sense Max's turmoil on the other end. "I just wish I could do more," he said quietly. "I wish I could take all this away from you, the stress, the worry, the media. You shouldn't have to deal with all this alone."

Colette felt a fresh burst of tears at his words. She wanted to tell him that he wasn't Superman, that he couldn't fix everything, but she also knew that he would never accept that. Max was a doer, a problem solver. Watching her struggle from afar must be killing him.

"I'm not alone," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I have you. That's more than enough."

"It's not enough," he mumbled again, the stubborn set to his words making her smile despite herself. She could almost see the familiar stubborn pout on his face even from so far away. "I'm serious," he insisted, his voice firmer now. "I should be the one taking care of you and our baby, not just chatting on the phone."Colette let out a quiet sigh, a mix of amusement and frustration at Max's stubbornness. She loved that he cared so much, but at the same time, she didn't want him to feel guilty for something that was out of his control.

"Max," she said gently, trying to make him understand. "You do take care of us, even from miles away. Just knowing that you're there for me, that you love us, it means everything. We're a team, remember? We're in this together."

There was another silence on the line, and she could practically picture Max clenching his jaw. She knew that he wanted to protest, that he wanted to argue, to find a solution to make things right. But he also understood that there was nothing he could do right now but accept the situation.

Finally, he sighed, the sound a mixture of frustration and resignation. "Okay," he said quietly. "But promise me you'll try to eat and sleep properly. Promise me you'll take care of yourself and our baby."

Colette couldn't help the tears that rolled down her cheeks at his concern. She could hear the love and worry in his voice, the desperate plea for her to take care of herself.

"I promise," she whispered, her voice wobbly but firm. "I'll take care of myself. For you, for Bébé. I promise."

She would even let go of the fact that she was pretty sure that her family were babysitting her. When her mother went home after breakfast, it didn't take too long for Arthur to show up, happily ignoring her pointing out that he actually had work to do and instead he joined her on the couch watching re-runs of The Real Housewives.

Colette rolled her eyes at Arthur's unashamed enjoyment of the reality TV show. He had always been a sucker for messy drama, and the housewives provided plenty of that.

"You are ridiculous," she mumbled, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips.

"Oh, shut up," Arthur retorted cheerfully, his eyes never leaving the screen. "You love this show and you know it."

"I do not," Colette protested, but it sounded halfhearted, even to her own ears.

Quite frankly, she would rather watch fake drama on TV than think about the one happening in real life to her.

Bébé decided at that moment to kick her in her ribs again and she grimaced.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked her immediately.

Colette let out a wince as the baby kicked her again. "Yeah, just baby kicking my ribs again. It's getting more and more frequent," she mumbled, rubbing the spot on her stomach where the baby had kicked.

Arthur chuckled. "The baby's probably just feeling cramped. They want more space," he teased.

"Ha ha, you're hilarious," Colette replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“Maybe the baby's just getting impatient and wants to come out already," Arthur said with a shrug, his eyes still glued to the screen.

"Don't even joke about that," Colette said, her tone serious. "I still have another month to go. He better stay in there until then.”

She still had around 4 weeks of pregnancy left. 

"Still thinking it's a boy?" Arthur asked her curious.

Colette nodded, her hand still resting on her stomach. "Yeah, I just have a feeling. Call it a mother's intuition," she said with a small smile.

Arthur rolled his eyes in amusement. "Or just wishful thinking," he teased her.  "Isn't Max convinced it's a girl?" 

Colette chuckled, thinking about Max's adamant belief that the baby was a girl. "Yeah, he is. He has ordered a bunch of dresses online," she said with a laugh. “And hairbows...so many hairbows…If it's a boy, I don't know what I'll do with all of them."

Arthur started laughing.

Colette shot him a playful glare. "Don't laugh at my predicament," she said, but the effect was ruined by the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Arthur couldn't help himself, bursting into another fit of laughter. "I'm sorry, it's just too funny picturing Max buying all those dresses and hairbows," he managed to say between chuckles. 

Her phone pinged again.  Colette huffed in irritation as Arthur picked up her phone before she could. "Hey, that's mine," she protested.

Arthur just shot her a cheeky grin. "Finders keepers," he teased, waving the phone just out of her reach. "Besides, no more doomscrolling for you," her younger brother told her seriously.

Colette rolled her eyes at his reprimand, but deep down, she knew he was right. "I wasn't doomscrolling," she mumbled petulantly, even though she knew it was a blatant lie.

"I just...People are making up opinions about me and my life and they don't know me," she said weakly. "That's why I don't even have a public Instagram in the first place, Arthur. I just want to live my life without worrying about what people are going to think..."

"What does it matter what they think?" Arthur asked her curiously.

Colette let out a frustrated sigh. "It shouldn't matter, I know it shouldn't," she said firmly. "But it does. Maybe it's human nature to care what other people think, I don't know."

She ran a hand through her hair tiredly. "I just don't want people to judge me, to make assumptions about my life and my decisions."

Arthur nodded in understanding. "I get it," he said softly. "It can be hard to block out the noise. But you have to remember that the only opinion that matters is your own."

Colette let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, tell that to the media," she mumbled, but there was no vitriol in her voice, just resignation.

Arthur huffed, shaking his head. "The media don't know what they're talking about. They just want the next big headline, the next scandal. They don't care about the truth."

Colette sighed, slumping back on the couch. "I just wish they'd leave me alone," she mumbled. "I just want to have my baby in peace."

Arthur patted her leg comfortingly. "Just focus on yourself and the baby," he said firmly. "Everything else is just background noise."

Colette nodded, taking a deep breath. He was right, of course. “They have this picture of me in their head, that’s very different from the actual person,” she said weakly. “And now they judge me for something that they don’t even know what it was, because it’s not public. They just take Russell’s word and run with it…”

Arthur's expression darkened as she vented. "I know," he said softly. "It's unfair and it sucks. But you can't let it get to you."

Colette sighed, rubbing a hand over her eyes. "I know. I know.”

"You don't owe anyone anything," Arthur said firmly. "You don't have to justify yourself to anyone. Max would say the same."

Colette smiled wryly at the mention of Max. She could almost hear his voice in her head, telling her the same thing.

She closed her eyes, picturing Max's face in her mind. He always knew what to say to keep her grounded, to keep her from spiralling into a dark pit of despair. She missed him, more than she thought was possible.

"I just wish Maxie was here," she muttered, her voice thick with emotion.

[st4rpiece]

needing space after an argument pt. 2

SFW

characters: luffy, zoro, usopp, sanji x reader summary: they earn your forgiveness CW: groveling, making up, fluff, and over 600 words each

pt. 1 | pt. 2

────────────────────₊˚.༄

Monkey D. Luffy

Luffy wasn’t himself. It was the first thing everyone noticed after you left the ship. His laughter, usually loud and contagious, was quieter, forced. Mealtimes felt emptier, and the energy on the Sunny had shifted. He tried to act like nothing was wrong, but even the crew could see the shadow of regret lingering in his eyes.  

But now, here he was, standing in front of you in the quiet port town where you’d taken refuge after leaving the crew. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by a desperate determination.  

“I’m sorry,” he said for what must have been the tenth time. His voice was raw, almost breaking. “I didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t have told you to leave. I was stupid.”  

You stood with your arms crossed, your expression guarded. Seeing Luffy like this—so uncharacteristically vulnerable—caught you off guard, but the sting of his words still lingered, fresh and sharp.  

“Luffy, you can’t just say whatever you want when you’re mad and expect everything to go back to normal,” you said, your voice steady but tinged with exhaustion. “You told me to leave. So I did.”  

“I didn’t mean it,” he repeated, stepping closer but stopping just short of touching you. “I was mad and didn’t think. I... I need you on the ship. Not just because I want you there, but because you’re part of the crew. You’re important to us all and i shouldn’t have made you feel otherwise.”  

You searched his face, his big, earnest eyes pleading with you. You could see the regret there, the weight of his mistake hanging heavy on his shoulders. For a moment, your resolve wavered, but you quickly shook your head.  

“I can’t just come back because you say you’re sorry, Luffy. What happens the next time we fight? Are you going to tell me to leave again?”  

“No!” he blurted out, shaking his head vehemently. “No, I swear. I’ll never say anything like that again.”  

You frowned, unsure what to make of his declaration. “Luffy, words aren’t enough.”  

He nodded, his straw hat shadowing his eyes for a moment before he looked up at you with renewed determination. “Then I’ll show you. Whatever it takes.”  

True to his word, Luffy didn’t give up. He didn’t force you to return to the ship, but he didn’t leave the island either. Every day, he showed up—whether it was to bring you a freshly caught fish for dinner, fix something around the small inn you were staying at, or simply sit outside and wait in silence. He didn’t push, didn’t demand, but his presence was constant.  

When the ship needed supplies, he was the first to volunteer, taking on tasks he’d usually leave to someone else. The crew later told you how he’d started taking more responsibility, trying to step up as a better leader.  

Even when you didn’t speak to him, he never faltered. Every action, every small gesture, was his way of showing you how much he regretted his words.  

One evening, you found Luffy sitting on the dock, staring out at the ocean with his straw hat resting in his lap. He looked smaller somehow, as though the weight of his regret had worn him down.  

When he noticed you approaching, he stood up immediately, his expression shifting from surprise to cautious hope.  

“Why do you keep doing this?” you asked, crossing your arms.  

“Because I was wrong,” he said without hesitation. “Because I hurt you, and I have to make it right. Even if you never come back, I’ll keep trying. I don’t care how long it takes.”  

His sincerity stopped you in your tracks. He wasn’t making excuses, wasn’t brushing over your feelings like they didn’t matter. He had made changes—small ones, but noticeable—and for the first time, you truly believed he understood the gravity of what he’d done.  

You sighed, letting the silence linger before speaking. “Luffy... I’ll come back.”  

His eyes lit up with hope, his lips parting as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.  

“But,” you continued, holding up a finger, “this only works if things stay different. I’m not going back just to deal with the same problems again. I need to know you’re taking this seriously.”  

“I swear!” he said immediately, his voice brimming with determination. “I swear that things will be different. A good different. No more reckless fights for selfish reasons or saying things I don’t mean, I promise.”  

You studied him for a long moment, the sincerity and determination in his eyes unmistakable. Finally, you allowed a small smile to tug at the corners of your lips. “Alright, Lu.”  

Relief washed over his face as he heard the familiar nickname, and for the first time in weeks, you saw his grin return, bright and full of life.  

"I missed you so much, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and certainty, as he wrapped his arms around you.

The comforting warmth of his embrace, felt like home—safe, secure, and exactly where you wanted to be.

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro wasn’t one to grovel. Stubborn and prideful as he was, apologies didn’t come easy for him. But as he sat alone on the Sunny’s deck, replaying his words from the fight, regret gnawed at him like a dull blade.  

The memory of your face—shocked, hurt, and then resigned—kept flashing in his mind. He hadn’t just lashed out; he’d cut deep. You were trying to help, and he’d thrown it back at you, calling you controlling and annoying when you didn’t deserve it.  

He groaned, pressing his palms against his face. He hated how small he felt for failing to show up to the dates you’d so carefully planned, how your suggestion—simple and kind—had poked at an insecurity he didn’t want to face. And now, because of his pride, he’d pushed you away.  

For days, you’d been distant, giving him space, but that only made the guilt worse. He needed to fix this.  

You were sitting on a quiet hillside overlooking the ocean when Zoro found you. The breeze tugged at your clothes, and you looked peaceful—too peaceful, considering how much turmoil you’d left him in.  

“Hey,” he called softly, his voice unusually hesitant.  

You glanced at him, surprised to see the normally stoic swordsman looking... sheepish. He stood awkwardly a few feet away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.  

“What is it, Zoro?” you asked, your tone calm but distant.  

He swallowed hard, his fingers twitching at his sides before he took a step closer. “I wanted to apologize.”  

That caught your attention. Your brows lifted in mild surprise, but you said nothing, waiting for him to continue.  

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he said, his voice low and gruff, but steady. “You weren’t being controlling or annoying. You were just... trying to help.” He exhaled heavily as if forcing the words out of himself. “And I was an idiot.”  

You blinked, his sincerity throwing you off guard. “Zoro—”  

“Let me finish, please,” he interrupted, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. There was something raw in his gaze—an uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I’ve been thinking about it, and... I hate that I’m always late. I hate knowing you’re waiting for me while I’m stuck wandering around like an idiot who can’t follow a simple route. It’s embarrassing.”  

Your expression softened, but you stayed quiet, letting him speak.  

“When you suggested we go together, I know it wasn’t because you thought I was useless,” he continued, his voice tightening. “But that’s how it made me feel. Like I wasn’t good enough to get it right on my own. And instead of dealing with that, I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that.”  

He took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “But I don’t think you’re controlling or annoying. You’re the most patient and understanding person for putting up with me. So you deserve better and I want to be that.”  

The sincerity in his voice was almost overwhelming, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. He wasn’t just saying the words—he meant them.  

“I know I can’t just say sorry and expect everything to go back to normal,” he added, glancing away briefly before meeting your gaze again. “So, please baby just… give me a chance to make it right.”  

Your lips parted in surprise. Zoro wasn’t the type to take the initiative when it came to things like this, but the determination in his eyes was unmistakable.  

After a long pause, you let out a soft sigh, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “One last chance.”  

He nodded, relief flashing across his face, but there was also a quiet resolve in his expression. This wasn’t just a promise—it was a vow.  

The next time you guys went on a date, Zoro was ready. He showed up early, finally getting the chance to wait on you. He led you to a quiet clearing overlooking the sea, a picnic already set up with food he’d personally asked Sanji to help him prepare.  

The effort was clear in every little detail, from the way he chose the spot (easily accessible, no chance to get lost) to the careful decorations and crafts you mentioned liking/wanting to try. Showing that despite his stoic nature, he was listening to you during previous dates. Even now as you spoke, he would chime in at just the right moments.  

It wasn’t perfect—he stumbled over a few of his words and complained when a seagull tried to swipe the food—but it was Zoro, trying in his own way. And that meant everything.  

By the time the date ended, you leaned back on the blanket, gazing up at the stars, feeling closer to him than ever before. When he reached for your hand, you let him, squeezing it gently.  

Zoro glanced down at your intertwined fingers, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. His gaze softened, and he took a deep breath before speaking. “I know you agreed to give me another chance, but I need to know if you’re still interested in giving me that chance.”

Your heart softened at the rare vulnerability in his voice. You turned to meet his eyes, and they were steady, full of quiet determination.  

A soft smile tugged at your lips, and you leaned into him as the waves crashed gently in the distance. For a man of few words, Zoro was surprisingly good at them.

“Well,” you began, tilting your head with a teasing glint in your eye, “that depends. Are you going to keep being so dramatic about it?” You bit back a laugh as you watched the tips of his ears turn red, his expression shifting into a familiar scowl.

“Tch, not being dramatic,” he grumbled, looking away, but the redness in his ears betrayed him.

You chuckled softly and squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to you. “I was being serious about giving you that second chance,” you said warmly. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and the tension in his jaw eased.

“But,” you continued, your tone more firm, “next time something like this happens, promise that you’ll communicate it properly. Okay? No more bottling things up.”

Zoro stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before nodding once. “You have my word.” His voice was low but steady, carrying the weight of his promise.

“Good.” You smiled, squeezing his hand again as a soft breeze brushed past, carrying with it the sound of the waves.

God Usopp

The day had been quiet, almost too quiet, and the silence weighed heavy between you and Usopp. Since your argument, things haven’t been the same. You still spoke, but the words felt hollow, and the laughter you once shared now seemed distant and forced. He noticed it all—the way your smile never quite reached your eyes, the strain in your voice when you tried to act like nothing was wrong.  

And it tore him apart.  

Usopp sat on the deck after dinner, absentmindedly fiddling with a half-finished invention. His fingers moved on instinct, but his thoughts were stuck on your last conversation. He hated himself for the way he’d lashed out, for the way he’d let his insecurities push you away.  

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sea in shades of orange and pink, he made up his mind. He couldn’t let this fester any longer.  

When you stepped onto the deck for some air, Usopp hesitated, watching you from a distance. Finally, he stood, his hands clenching at his sides as he approached you.  

“Hey,” he called softly.  

You turned, surprised to see him. “Oh, hey.” Your voice was casual, but your guarded expression told him you were bracing for something.  

“Can we talk?” he asked, his tone uncharacteristically serious.  

You nodded, following him to a quieter spot on the ship where the others couldn’t overhear. The soft sound of the waves filled the silence as Usopp struggled to find the right words.  

“I’ve been... thinking,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “About what I said. About the fight.” He looked down, unable to meet your gaze. Your brows furrowed, but you stayed quiet, giving him the space to explain.

“I know you don’t see me as weak,” he continued, his voice growing tight. “But hearing you scream for him... it made me feel useless.” He exhaled sharply, his hand tightening around the railing. “And I hate feeling like that. I know I’m not like Luffy, Zoro, or Sanji. I’m not the guy who can punch through walls or take down ten enemies at once, but... I at least want to be someone you can count on. Someone you can feel protected with.”

He paused, his words faltering slightly. “But instead of talking to you about it, I projected my insecurities onto you, and made it seem like you were wrong for asking our friends for help. For that, I’m sorry.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and guilt pooled in your chest. “Baby...” you started, your voice soft. “I’m sorry, too. I never meant to make you feel that way.” You stepped closer, resting a hand on his arm. “But you are someone I can count on. Someone who’s saved my ass more times than I can count. Your strength may not look like theirs, but it’s just as important.”

He finally looked at you, his eyes wide, searching for any trace of doubt. “You... you really mean that?”

“Heck yeah, I do,” you said without hesitation. “I trust you, Usopp. I always have.”

A small, hesitant smile tugged at his lips, and he let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him. “Thanks... I needed to hear that," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

After a moment, he straightened and rubbed the back of his head, suddenly looking sheepish. “Actually, uh, there’s something I’ve been working on. For you. I wanted to make something that could help you in a fight.”  

Your brows lifted in surprise. “Really? What is it?”  

Grinning now, Usopp reached into his bag and pulled out a small, compact gadget. “It’s not finished yet, but it’s kind of like a smoke bomb, but better. It creates a flash of light to blind enemies and a smoke screen to cover your escape. I thought... you know, it might come in handy.”  

You took the gadget from him, turning it over in your hands. “Usopp, this is amazing.”  

“Yeah, well,” he said, scratching his cheek, his grin turning bashful. “I wanted to make sure you had another thing to keep you safe. In case no one else is around.”  

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. “Thank you, Usopp. I mean it.”  

He relaxed then, the tension between you finally melting away. “I’ll finish it soon,” he promised, his confidence returning. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll come up with even more stuff for you with full bragging rights.”  

"Thanks, now I can let everyone know just how my amazing boyfriend is," you laughed—genuinely this time—and Usopp’s chest swelled with pride. He knew he still had work to do, but for now, the weight of your fight had lifted, and the bond between you felt stronger than ever.  

Vinesmoke Sanji

Sanji stood alone on the deck, the moonlight casting a silver glow over his slumped figure. He leaned against the railing, a cigarette burning low between his fingers, though he hadn’t taken a drag in minutes. His mind replayed every moment of your relationship—the laughter, the stolen glances, the warmth of your touch. And then, inevitably, it would circle back to the breakup.  

He’d failed you. The person who mattered more to him than anyone else in the world. His actions—so thoughtless, so wrapped in habit—had made you feel second to strangers. The realization haunted him, clawing at his chest.  

Sanji thought of groveling, of falling to his knees and begging you to take him back, but he knew you too well. That would only push you further away. You were someone who needed actions, not words, and he knew his words had already failed you. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to give up. You were his person, his muse, his everything. How could he possibly accept a life without you in it?  

So he did the only thing he could. He began to show you through his actions.  

The change was immediate. The next time the ship docked at an island, Sanji didn’t so much as glance at the women who usually flocked to him. When they batted their lashes and called out for his attention, he brushed them off politely and kept his focus on his task. His compliments, once scattered freely to strangers, were now reserved only for you. Even when you ignored him, his words never wavered—soft, sincere, and meant only for you.  

In battle, Sanji was more relentless than ever. But his priority was always your safety, stepping in before danger could reach you, even if it meant taking a hit himself. When the crew sat down for meals, he made sure your favorite dishes were prepared just the way you liked them, his eyes flicking to your face to see if you’d noticed.  

And when he thought you weren’t looking, he’d linger nearby, silently watching you. There was a sadness in his gaze as he admired the person he’d once had the privilege of holding close. You saw him sometimes, hovering at a distance, and though you tried to ignore it, part of you couldn’t deny the pang in your chest. You still had feelings for him—of course you did. But you couldn’t settle for someone who had once made you doubt your place in their life.  

Weeks passed, and Sanji’s quiet devotion didn’t falter. Even now as he stood near the railing, waiting for you, his hands slightly trembling. He had spent all day preparing for this moment, and now the weight of his plan felt heavier than ever.  

When you finally stepped out onto the deck, he straightened immediately, smoothing his suit jacket with nervous fingers. "Hey," he called softly, his voice careful, like he was afraid of scaring you off.  

"Hey," you replied, your tone hesitant but curious. He’d been walking on eggshells around you for weeks, and now this—an invitation for "something special" without much detail. Against your better judgment, you’d said yes, curiosity getting the better of you.  

He smiled faintly, stepping toward you. "I, uh, thought we could spend the evening together. Just... talk."  

You raised a brow. "Talk?"  

He nodded, motioning for you to follow him. "Come on. I’ve got something to show you."  

Despite the uncertainty in your chest, you followed him across the deck, and your eyes widened when he led you to a corner of the ship bathed in soft, golden light from lanterns he had strung up. A blanket was spread out neatly on the deck, adorned with a small basket, plates of your favorite snacks, and a bottle of your favorite drink.  

"Sanji..." you murmured, taken aback.  

"I know it’s not much," he said quickly, scratching the back of his neck. "But I wanted to do something for you. Something simple. Something that doesn’t involve me screwing it up."  

You blinked, your hesitation softening slightly at his earnestness. "You didn’t have to go through all this trouble."  

"I did," he countered, his voice firm but warm. "I needed to."  

He gestured for you to sit, and after a moment’s pause, you did, settling down on the blanket. Sanji sat across from you, his hands fidgeting in his lap.  

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the ship filling the space between you. Finally, Sanji took a deep breath and looked at you, his expression more serious than you’d seen in a long time.  

"My love," he began, "I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since... since we broke up. And I just... I need you to know how sorry I am."  

You looked away, unsure how to respond, but he continued.  

"I wasn’t the boyfriend you deserved," he admitted, his voice low. "I made you feel like you had to compete for my attention, and that’s unforgivable. You should’ve never felt like anything less than the most important person in my life. That’s on me."  

His gaze was unwavering as he spoke, and you couldn’t help but feel the sincerity in his words.  

"I still have feelings for you," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "I never stopped. And I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight, or even to trust me again right away. But I need you to know that I’ve changed. I’m changing. And I’ll do anything to prove it to you."  

You stared at him, his words hitting you harder than you expected. Sanji was always smooth with his words, but this was different. There was no charm, no performative flair—just raw honesty.  

"Sanji..." you started, your voice faltering. You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the edge of the blanket. "I... I still have feelings for you too. But..."  

"But you don’t trust me," he finished for you, his tone understanding rather than hurt.  

You nodded. "It’s not that I don’t want to. I just... I’m scared of getting hurt again."  

He reached across the blanket, his hand stopping just short of yours. "I understand," he said softly. "And I don’t blame you. I don’t want you to rush into anything you’re not ready for. If we have to take things slow, then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll show you, not just with words but with actions, that you’re the only one in my heart."  

His hand lingered near yours, and after a moment, you tentatively placed your hand over his. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you looked up to meet his gaze.  

"Okay," you said quietly. "We can try. But slow, Sanji. No rushing, no grand gestures to win me over. Just... be honest with me."  

A smile broke across his face, softer and more genuine than any you’d seen in weeks. "Slow it is," he promised.  

For the first time in what felt like forever, the tension between you eased. You still had a long way to go, but as you sat there, sharing a quiet meal under the lantern light, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, things could work out.  

───────────────────₊˚.༄

One Piece Masterlist

hey…I was supposed to post this yesterday but I ended up working a double 😭.

[this is lightly edited]

anyways I saw a couple people asking about a tag list ngl i don’t know shit about that 😭😭 but hopefully this finds you !!

and for the op women/queer smau I will be posting that soon as well but I got a really cute idea from anon yesterday and I want to start on that first.

[noxcorvorum]

First of all, I LOVE the way you've depicted John, with how tall he is and also that he's kindof just a cloak encompassing Arthur, the slight way he's wrapped around him is SO GOOD and the way the fabric drapes from his head over Arthur's is incredible, this is HIS HUMAN GODDAMNIT!!!

And that John is easily the brightest thing in the picture, he is part of a god that isn't supposed to be here and he Sticks Out

I also love the marks on the wall behind them, with the black tendrils behind John, the glowing eyes and crown by Jon, and the muted fog behind Martin

And imagine being Jon in this situation: he almost looks like he's stuck here on this makeshift altar playing at apocalypse google; he's got short sleeves and long hair and no shoes and Martin can leave all he wants, can come and go freely but chooses over and over to come back to him, to sit at his back as both a facade of protection, pointlessly watching the back of a man who sees all, and a supportive strength, lending warmth as his boyfriend converses with the scraggly man with a strange glint of gold in his eyes.

He Knows when Arthur is brought here, of course he does, this is his job now, his purpose is to Know and See everything that goes on in this world. He Watches them walk up, and when the scraggly man reaches about twice as far away as a normal human could see, Jon Sees a nauseating shimmer of yellow around him and eyes that are taken over by gold and black.

By the time they reach the door, Jon has been looking upon the visage of a foreign god for quite a while now.

He closes his eyes. More blink open across his skin. He is Argus, hundred-eyed, ever-watchful, bound in service to a god.

Arthur Lester enters, muttering to hi- well. Muttering to the god in his head and wrapped around his bones. The yellow-cloaked figure dogging his steps responds in a voice that tugs at Jon's mind.

He catches his own name in the whispers, and the Eye informs him the piece of the King has named himself John Doe. What irony.

He curls up, reaching a hand back to Martin's leg as if for reassurance, and Arthur leans on the altar before him. He is scarred, heavily so, but the Eye will not look between the shifting robes to tell him whether his marks number more than Jon's. Even the little bit he can see of the figure beneath the swirling yellow twists at him.

Martin sips his tea. Jon Knows he can't see just how strange the man before them really is.

Arthur wants to know how to leave. Jon does too.

something, something, Arthur and John got teleported to the eyepocalypse and was asking around to find a way back when they were recommended to visit the local ‘google’(whatever that means) guy and his plus one.

[mossangelll]

Im absolutely enchanted with your yandere jinx....This brings the question tho....how would Yandere Jinx handle her darling being on her period? (I mynself am on my period and I kid you not- I feel worse than when eating taco bell)

yandere!jinx x reader on their period

honestly not as much of an overt yandere as usual - if you squint, it’s pretty much a normal jinx hc!

hcs like this which are more ‘slice of life’ are super fun and i would be interested in doing them for more characters (e.g. what they’re like when you’re sick) if anyone’s interested!

tysm for requesting

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

cw: periods, mentions of blood, mentions of kidnapping, sexual mentions but not in too much detail, slight noncon, reader isn’t referred to by any gendered pronouns but female anatomy is mentioned

yandere!jinx who can’t sleep without holding onto you during the night

yandere!jinx who reaches over for your body just to feel the cool bedsheet under her

yandere!jinx who notices the bathroom light is on and without hesitation believes that your escape attempts have finally resulted in a success

yandere!jinx who crashes into the bathroom to find…you, crying on the toilet with your head in your hands

“toots, i hope you aren’t thinking of making any stupid decisions.” her voice is still grumbly from sleep but it doesn’t manage to hide the underlying annoyance simmering beneath

you look up at her with pained eyes and that’s when she notices your underwear, pooled at your ankles and stained with blood

her eyebrows shoot to the top of her head and her demeanour softens like she was never mad in the first place

“oh! i didn’t know it was that time of the month.”

she sees how you wilt away in shame, arms crossed over your midsection, at such a normal bodily function and rushes over to cuddle you, toilet be damned

yandere!jinx can be a lot of things - overbearing, compulsive and downright abusive, but she knows that what you need right now is someone to comfort you

yandere!jinx who understands what you’re going through painfully well

yandere!jinx who still acts awkward around you for the first few periods you have when you’re in her captivity - the cons of relying on her sole father figure growing up

yandere!jinx who doesn’t trust you to go outside without trying to cry for help so she ends up getting essentials for you

yandere!jinx who doesn’t need to ask what kind of products you usually buy; she already snooped around your house before she took you and knows whether you prefer pads, tampons or cups, the kind of snacks you crave, whether you’re the angry or teary type - she knows everything

yandere!jinx who gets you a ridiculous pile of desserts she stole from some fancy piltie bakery just to make sure your cravings are satiated

yandere!jinx who washes any bloody sheets, clothes or underwear for you with her own two hands - not only is she gratified at how flustered you get, she wants to feel closer to you in any way possible and getting to do such intimate chores is honestly euphoric for her, it emphasises how you belong to her and her alone

yandere!jinx who doesn’t let you use a hot water bottle; she wants you to come to her for comfort, wants to be the one to hold her hands over your stomach and ease the cramps

yandere!jinx who gives you tiny drops of shimmer, not enough to get seriously high but enough to take the pain away

yandere!jinx who loves how your pink eyes match hers after she’s dosed you

yandere!jinx who loves to see you cry at something that’s not her because it means you won’t reject her attempts to make you feel better

yandere!jinx who hopes and prays that your cycles sync up so that you two become even more attached

yandere!jinx who massages your lower back when you complain about it aching, maybe even using special shimmer-imbued lotion she got from singed to aid her efforts

yandere!jinx who would love if their darling gets tender breasts around their period since she can cop a feel while using “pain relief” as her get out of jail free card

yandere!jinx who doesn’t care about any of the symptoms that you think are “gross” or “disgusting” - everything about you is perfect and she can’t find it in her to hate any of it

yandere!jinx who isn’t turned off by the sight of a little blood and tries to convince you to let her pleasure you, even if you are shaken up by the idea - after all, she heard that orgasms help alleviate cramps!

yandere!jinx who tells you all about her embarrassing period stories from when she was younger to make you feel better if you bleed through your clothing in front of her

yandere!jinx who becomes your personal jester if you’re bedridden; she tells you jokes and does a myriad of insane tricks that you can’t even fathom how she pulls off - it definitely gets your mind off of how terrible you feel

yandere!jinx who supports you every month and hopes that when you become accustomed to your new life, you’ll eventually do the same for her <3

masterlist

[narrycherries]

ivy: how’s one to know..

(enemies to lovers) harry is just an ass and (Y/n) is just a stranger

masterlist // ivy series (link coming w part 2)

word count: 8.6k

warnings/tags: enemies to lovers, harry x reader, fem reader, angst

[before you start: I wrote the female character with a description (blonde, blue eyes, short, thicker build) but of course feel free to change the descriptors to whatever you prefer!]

The holiday season had wrapped up a handful of days ago and things were slowly starting to go back to normal. The sparkling strings of lights decorating neighborhoods and businesses all around the city were being taken down and shoved back in their storage boxes until the last month of the year circled around again. The weather was staying consistent, though. The gloomy overcast skies and chilly wind that whipped through the streets were enough to keep people bundled up and wishing for spring to arrive.

Most people she knew enjoyed the holidays a lot more than she did. Sure, she loved to see the colorful lights lining roofs and windows of boutiques and restaurants along the main strip. There was something so juvenile, so innocent about the giddy feeling that would fill her stomach as she saw a pile of fake presents and a decorated tree in a shop window. Somewhere deep down inside of her heart, she still had that spark that a child would have.

When she was growing up, she sought happiness during the holidays by admiring other people’s outdoor decorations or gazing in awe at the displays put up in her schools. She didn’t have what most people had that she went to school with, but she tried to be grateful, even as a young chlid, and appreciate what surrounded her.

A strong sadness was building in her chest as she slid the ceramic Santa Claus into his box to pack him away with the other Christmas decorations. She thought about the many years she questioned if Santa was real. There were so many nights when she’d squeeze her eyes shut and whisper out loud, her knees on the floor as she put her elbows into the mattress. There was so much hope in her. She believed that if she wished and prayed and dreamed enough, Santa would leave a present or two on the coffee table next to her dad’s stained coffee mug. There wasn’t a tree most of the years of her childhood, but her dad give gift her things (there was no magical Santa though). There were no twinkling lights outside of her window, hanging down from the roof with a clumsy droop. There were no ornaments to place on the branches of a fake tree, lined with a dusty skirt that would be covered with presents. There were no fresh baked cookies and steaming hot chocolate topped with marshmallows. The television never displayed joyful Christmas movies and specials. The radio on the kitchen counter never once sang a tune of a wintery song about snow and ice. No, none of that. It was just her dad, her brother, and herself for a while.

“Did you keep the box for this guy?” Emma’s curious voice snapped her from her trance.

She cleared her throat and looked up from her spot on the living room rug. Her ‘new’ roommate was holding a ceramic snowman who’s decorated style matched the Santa she just put away. She reached into the plastic storage container and grabbed the box, passing it up to Emma.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks, (Y/n).” She smiled back, noticing that there was a glimmer of disappoint on her face, but she didn’t mention it to her. “You didn’t have to put everything away so fast. I would’ve been fine with it for a few more weeks.”

Emma had just moved in before Christmas. Her things were half way unpacked throughout the small house they now shared.

“I didn’t want it to crowd you. Besides, Christmas is over.” (Y/n)’s tone was partially rough as she began to pack away the miniature houses placed across the console table that the television hung above.

“I’m so excited to actually be here, like, full time. Niall’s a bit upset.. but I told him he’d survive.” She said with a laugh as she started to collect the small figurines that went with the village.

“I’m excited, too. I’m glad you’re actually up for decorating the space and not just.. letting me do it all. My last roommate was not particularly outgoing.” (Y/n) snickered at the thought, knowing she wouldn’t be missing that person at all. The girl was nice and all, but she was quite boring.

“Oh, totally! I’ve already got some stuff I want to show you in my room. Maybe we could put it out here or something.”

“I’m fine with anything as long as it’s cute.” She shot her friend a grin.

Emma wasn’t a new friend by any means. They met early on while they were both at university. Emma was actually her first partner for a project in one of their biology classes. They met on the third day of class and became friends very quickly. Their chemistry went far beyond the confines of the science lab. Emma was joyful and adventurous and offered (Y/n) that motivating spark to actually go out and have fun. Not that (Y/n) couldn’t match Emma’s energy once her veins were filled with alcohol, she just didn’t go out as much.

“Speaking of Niall, I haven’t seen him a while. How’s he doing?”

A proud smile crept to Emma’s lips. “He’s been good. But he’s been super busy with the store.. almost never get to spend time during the actual day with him.”

“But it’s going well, the store, I mean? Like he’s having success?”

Emma nodded. “It’s been great. I told him it would do good around here, especially with the college students. And besides, people are always looking for music lessons. I’m glad he took my advice and decided to offer those through the business.”

Niall was an excellent musician, or so (Y/n) has been told. She hadn’t actually seen him play anything in person, only through recordings and videos Emma had shown her. She knew Niall was talented, though. He played the guitar and the bass, both of which seemed entirely too complicated in (Y/n)’s mind. When they started dating last year, Niall was in the midst of finalizing a business plan and opening his music store. Emma told her all about it, including her fears and anxiety about the situation - but only because she was afraid Niall would get so caught up in the store that he would abandon their relationship. Niall ended up not doing that, obviously, and was able to balance everything in his life. He and Emma would be celebrating their one year anniversary on Valentine’s Day - which (Y/n) thought was particularly sweet and romantic.

“I’m glad everything’s working out.”

The store opened back in the summer, and (Y/n) had only gone by once to see the place. It was in a part of town she didn’t frequent very often, so the opportunity to casually stroll in was rare. It wasn’t like it was Emma’s store. While she did know Niall well enough to refer to him as a friend, she wasn’t close with him. She was supportive, of course, but not overly involved.

“He’s coming by later to help me put together the dresser. Well.. he’s going to do it for me, not help me.” She snickered as she joined (Y/n) on the floor to start gently laying the mini figurines in a small cardboard box they knew as home.

“I can make dinner if you’d like. Niall likes that pasta I make, right?”

“Yeah! He actually asked me about that a few weeks ago. He said I have to get your recipe.” She grinned back, rolling her eyes at the thought of her boyfriend’s obsession with food.

“He’s only had it like twice.. but it’s flattering to know I’m such a good chef.” (Y/n) laughed under her breath. “I’ll give you the recipe.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent on putting away the last of the decorations and moving them into the hallway closet. The box fit perfectly in the bottom of the closet. Emma disappeared into her room to continue unboxing her belongings. (Y/n) was mostly occupied with dusting the wood furniture and wiping down the kitchen. She liked a neat, tidy home and she was very glad to know that Emma did as well. She checked the cabinets to make sure she had the ingredients required for the pasta she’ll be making later on.

Every now and then, she’d hear a crash of something hitting the floor come from the hallway, presumably from Emma’s room. She would just giggle to herself as Emma’s dramatic cries of curses and sighs would fill the small home. Despite being friends for a handful of years, they had never lived in the same space before. Even while at university when it was mandatory for them to live on campus, they lived in different dorm buildings. Emma was in a sorority and definitely more comfortable with herself than (Y/n) was. She kept to her small dorm with her roommate, whom she didn’t have anything in common with but she was kind to her. If she were being honest, she thought Emma would try to move in with Niall once her old lease had expired. But, Niall was comfortable where he was in his apartment and he already had a roommate. As much as Emma wanted to live with him, it was just too soon anyway. They tossed around the idea, but (Y/n) mentioned to her that perhaps she needed to wait, just in case. Niall wasn’t upset with Emma’s decision to move elsewhere, as long as she was in the city close to him. (Y/n) was also informed that Niall’s roommate wasn’t too keen on letting someone else share their space. She had never met him before, didn’t even know his name, but she couldn’t blame them. She wouldn’t want her house to be permanently crowded either. Niall let Emma stay over there a lot, though, but spending the night for the weekend or on a random weekday when it was too late to drive back home was different than staying full time. And of course, Niall was allowed over whenever he wanted and she made that clear to Emma before she signed the lease. As long as he respected their home and didn’t leave a mess behind, he was welcomed.

A gentle sigh slipped past her thick lips as she trailed back to the living room. The open concept of the front of the home meant the living room was attached to the kitchen with no barrier other than the island. She sat down on the end of the couch, the damp kitchen towel she used to wipe down the furniture sat on the side table. She picked it up, along with the framed photo that was next to the pretty gold lamp. The gold of the frame didn’t quite match the lamp, but it was still beautiful to her. The ornate metal that decorated the frame was cold as she carefully rubbed the pads of her fingers over it. She stared at the photograph locked behind the glass, the speed of her heart beating increased only slightly.

The image was of her and her mother when she was around three years old. It was Halloween, she was dressed in a pink dress that was modeled after Princess Aurora, and her hair was curled and a little makeup playfully swept over her features. Her mother was dressed in a Cinderella themed costume, her matching golden blonde hair curled, too, and pinned up. It wasn’t the last holiday they spent together, but it was one of the only ones (Y/n) remembered. She doubted herself at times about the memory - she was only three and a half, did she actually remember it or was she imagining it? Despite always doubting herself, she knew too well that the memory was burned into her brain. She can remember the smell of the burning iron as her mom curled her hair. She remembers getting tickled by the fluffy makeup brush as a bit was applied to her face just to add to the illusion. She remembers the taste of the mini chocolate bar her mom unwrapped for her in the car in between neighborhoods - the night was full of trick or treating and giggles and squeals. She even remembered the way her mom’s hand carefully adjusted her curls when they got caught in the zip of (Y/n)’s costume. It was a memory she held dear to her heart, one she prayed she’d never lose. (Y/n) had always tried her hardest to find things to fill in the void of not having her mother around. But no matter how determined she was, nothing ever seemed to be enough. She found joy in little things, like collecting whatnots and trinkets that reminded her of the ones that littered her house when her mom was alive. She enjoyed searching for squirrels and birds in the park, collecting odd looking rocks during her walks, listening to her favorite songs on repeat, and a plethora of other things. But nothing could really fill the space in her heart.. It was quite a big space, after all.

That evening, after the sun nestled below the horizon and stars littered the dark winter sky, Emma invited Niall over for dinner. It was third day of actually staying here, since she opted to spend two weeks with Niall for Christmas between her parent’s place and his. (Y/n) was working on preparing the ingridents for the pasta when Niall knocked and was let in with a grinning Emma planting a kiss to his mouth. He laughed and brushed her off, not a big fan of showing affection in front of other people, even though he knew (Y/n) wasn’t watching.

“Hey, long time no see!” Niall said with a smile as he followed Emma into the kitchen.

(Y/n)’s eyes glanced over her shoulder. “Hi, Niall. It’s been a while, yeah?”

“I think you guys haven’t seen each other since the day we moved my crap in.” Emma said with a slight unsure tone.

“Your crap that still isn’t unpacked.” Niall sighed as he leaned against the counter, his arms crossing on his chest.

(Y/n) chuckled to herself as Emma began to give him excuses for why her things weren’t put away and in their new spots yet. The list included things like being busy with work, having errands to run, and of course ‘spending all my time with you’ that made Niall smack his lips and give her a sarcastic ‘okay, sure’.

They kept up their banter for a bit while (Y/n) rinsed her hands at the sink. She had finished everything she needed to do before actually cooking the food. When she turned towards them, Niall was peering his eyes into the pot of boiling water, frowning as he saw it was empty.

“She’s making the pasta you said you like.” Emma said as she grabbed his forearm to tug him away from the oven.

“Oh, really? That stuff was so good.” Niall’s eyes shot to (Y/n)’s. “I want a whole pot of it for my birthday, please and thanks.”

She shook her head in disbelief as a laugh rolled out of her mouth. “Isn’t your birthday in September?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, just don’t want ya to forget.”

“C’mon, let's start with the dresser, Niall. Let (Y/n) cook.” Emma said after checking the time on her phone. “We’ll clean up the kitchen after dinner, okay? Don’t worry about it!”

“Alright, that’s fine. I’ll let you know when it's done.”

And just like that, she was alone in the kitchen again. It didn’t bother her to be alone, she had been for most of her life, especially her late teenage and adult years. Finding something to occupy her bored mind was not a new task for her to learn. She opted for sitting at the small dining table after setting the timer on the oven in case she forgot to check the time.

(Y/n) pulled her phone from the pocket of her sweatpants and started to maneuver through the notifications that had come through since she last checked. One was a message from a random company that was offering a sale this coming weekend, there were two texts from Niall - the first asking if he needed to bring anything, the second saying Emma told him not to and to just ignore the text - the rest were random notifications from different apps.

Her attention went to her photo app as she scrolled to a few days ago, just a day or so after the New Year began. She went for a walk in the park close by one day during lunch when she had nothing else to do. She snapped a few photos of little random things, like a wild flower that had somehow managed to survive the low temperature, a bird that was perched on top of the black metal fence that lined the park, and a snapshot of the sky with the clouds parting in such a way that made it look like heaven. After having lost so much in life, she learned and forced herself to appreciate the little things that were around. Details of daily life, like the fall of a leaf to the ground or the chirp of a bird in a tree, were almost therapeutic for her.

Dinner didn’t take too long to cook, but the dresser was seeming to take much longer than Emma had expected it to. When (Y/n) knocked on the bedroom door and stuck her head in, she grinned as she saw Niall sitting on the floor with his head thrown back and Emma pacing the room with her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Her once neatly fixed dark hair was messily tied in a bun on the back of her head. The instruction booklet for the dresser was laid out in between Niall’s legs, along with a torn bag of hardwear.

“Food’s ready.” She said with a singsong voice that made Niall pop his head up.

“Finally.” He quickly rose to his feet and grabbed Emma’s wrist, tugging her behind him as they followed (Y/n) down the hall and towards the kitchen.

“Eat as much as you want, I made plenty.” She said as she let them make a bowl first.

“Don’t have to tell him twice.” Emma’s mouth shaped to a smile as Niall practically pushed her aside to be first.

“Guests eat first, right?” He joked as he gave them both a quick glance, a smirk on his face as he grabbed the serving utensil.

Once the three of them had fixed what they wanted and claimed a spot at the table, (Y/n) offered to grab everyone something to drink. Emma and herself chose a glass of ice water while Niall requested a Coke. Emma had just brought home a box this morning after her quick run to the grocery store. The food appeared to be a big hit as Niall scarfed it down, spitting out compliments and satisfied hums that made the girls giggle and roll their eyes jokingly at him.

“Em told me the store is doing great.”

Niall nodded as he sipped his drink. “Yeah, it’s been good, actually. I’m glad.”

“I’m glad you do the lessons. I told her that people are coming in pretty much all day long.” Emma said.

“Yeah, if it’s not someone who’s into music already or just curiously out shopping.. The sign about the lessons really brings people in. And even if they don’t go through with it, they end up looking around and finding something.” Niall told them with a pleased smile, he was relieved his business was staying crowded and people actually enjoyed coming to the store.

“Did you end up finding someone to teach the guitar lessons? I know Emma said something about you were looking for someone else, since you got so busy with your bookings.”

“Yeah, my roommate actually. He’s decent at guitar and he’s just working with the beginners. I’m sticking to the people who sorta know how to play around that just wanna get better.”

(Y/n) nodded as she took another bite. “That’s good.”

The cooking had made the kitchen a bit warmer than it was before, so she pushed her sleeves up to her elbows. The exposure of the small tattoo on the inside of (Y/n)’s elbow caught Emma’s eye.

“Oh!” She chirped suddenly, making Niall flinch. “I forgot to tell you, (Y/n), I’m getting a tattoo in a few weeks. Already got my appointment.”

“Oh, really? Where at this time?” (Y/n) asked with genuine curiosity.

“On my foot. Just a cute little flower. Niall says it's going to hurt.”

(Y/n) squinted her eyes and pursed her lips. “You don’t have any, do you?”

Niall chuckled. “No, but I’ve been told the foot is terrible.”

“I’m not a baby, Niall. It’s not my first one. Besides, Zayn said it would be fine since I’m used to the feeling.”

“Zayn is lying to you to spare your feelings and get your money. He is my friend, I think I'd know when he lies.” Niall was only teasing her, but it brought a flush to Emma’s cheeks.

“Shut up.” She mumbled through a pout.

(Y/n) was amused by their interaction, but she chose to move on with the conversation so Emma wouldn’t get too sensitive. She wasn’t over emotional or anything, but sometimes she would get embarrassed if Niall playfully taunted her in front of other people.

“Zayn.. is that the guy I met that time at the bar?” (Y/n) couldn’t remember the person’s name, but she was sort of sure that it was the same person they’re referring to.

Niall nodded to her. “Yeah. The one with all the tattoos.. I would say the one with the black hair but right now it’s platinum blonde.” The lift of Niall’s brows made her think that maybe he didn’t approve of the look, but he had no choice but to accept it.

“I thought that was the same guy. I’m pretty sure he told me he owned a shop.”

“He’s the best around.” Emma said with a laugh. “Plus.. he gives me a discount.”

“You’re welcome for that.” Niall puckered his lips and leaned her direction, demanding a kiss that he knew he wouldn’t get.

“Hush.” She pushed her fingers to his mouth and gently shoved his head back.

He laughed at her reaction. “Just saying, Em. He’s my friend.. like I said before.”

Emma ignored him and turned her eyes to (Y/n). “Anyway, Niall can’t come with me.. so I was going to see if you wanted to go.”

“I can see if I can.. just let me know the date and time.”

“Alright. I will. Niall, don’t be a pig.” She groaned as she saw he had slipped from the table and was at the stove, piling his bowl full again.

“Let him eat it. That way we won’t have to worry about leftovers.”

Emma shook her head. “He’d eat the actual house if you’d let him.”

—•—

(Y/n) was puckering her lips in the mirror of the car visor as she applied her lip balm. It was chilly outside and the weather wasn’t being kind to her skin at all. She huffed as she saw the patch of dry skin right in the middle of her forehead. She had just applied her moisturizer before they loaded in the car to drive to the tattoo shop. Emma was driving, and every now and then she’d glance (Y/n)’s way and notice she was still staring in the mirror.

“What’s the matter?” She finally asked as (Y/n) slid the cover over the mirror and flipped the visor up, her back hitting the seat as she felt defeated.

“My skin is horrible right now.” She rolled her eyes to herself, upset that it was bothering her this much. It was just a bit of dry skin and chapped lips, she shouldn’t be so affected by it.. but she was. “Even my lips are dying.”

Emma smiled. “I’m sure lots of people are struggling right now. I’ve got a dry spot on my cheek. It’s been there for a few days. Just the weather.”

“But it's annoying. Y’know my hormones are whacky sometimes.. feel like as soon as I get it under control, I break out or have something like this happen.”

“When we get home, we can look up some different products. Maybe we can find something better for seasonal dryness. My cream isn’t working either.”

(Y/n) shrugged and took out her phone to mindlessly look through one of her social media apps. “Yeah, we can do that.”

Even though the shop wasn’t too far from where they lived, Emma didn’t want to walk in the cold and she didn’t want to have to cover the tattoo with thick, tight shoes afterwards. So, (Y/n) agreed to drive back after they left, and after they grabbed some food. The shop was right around the corner, and it caught (Y/n)’s attention as they turned onto the street. It was just off the main road of the downtown area. The street was lined with different restaurants, stores, thrifting spots, boutiques, and a few law firm offices and an emergency clinic that stayed open during the weekend. She was familiar with the area, and had actually looked towards the tattoo shop’s sign plenty of times. They pulled into a spot and Emma took in a deep breath before pulling the keys out.

“Are you nervous?” (Y/n) said with an amused grin plastered over her lips as she opened the car door.

“What if Niall’s right? What if it hurts real bad?”

“You’ll be fine. You got one on your ribs and your spine. You can take it.”

Emma was still nervous as she followed (Y/n) to the door. She grabbed the handle and pulled the door open, allowing Emma to slip into the building first. It was warm in the small lobby of the tattoo shop. She was unfamiliar with the specific shop, but not the reality of one. It looked like the others she had been to and the place she got her tattoos done at. The walls were dark grey and decorated with interesting pieces of artwork and posters. There were rock band posters, most of which she recognized, on the wall behind the dark wood desk that acted as a check in counter. Nobody was at the counter, though. There was a small sleek, black leather couch pressed against the side wall, above it hung a large canvas with what appeared to be an original artwork painted on to it. She saw the signature in the lower left corner and smiled as she read over the name she had heard Niall use a few weeks ago during dinner. So this Zayn character was more than just a tattoo artist? She was intrigued by the brush work on the canvas, the beauty of the image was breathtaking. The muted colors stood out oddly bold against the stark white and midnight black areas. It was nothing like she had ever seen before. Although she didn’t partake in any form of art herself, she was an admirer. She enjoyed frequenting art galleries and museums and contributing to artists as much as she could. She once got a commissioned painting of a bouquet of flowers from an older woman in the area who was a somewhat known artist. The piece lives on the wall near the hall closet.

“Zayn?” Emma called out suddenly as she grew impatient with standing in the middle of the lobby.

(Y/n) sighed to herself as Emma disappeared through a door. It lead to the main tattoo room, with three different stations placed in it. The back room was Zayn’s private room that his clients were able to be secluded in. Emma knocked on that closed door and waited patiently. A few moments later, Zayn opened the door with a smile, happy to see her.

“Hi, Em.” He said, his accent thick as it rang through the small building.

(Y/n) heard them chatting, so she decided to peek through the door, a nervous smile on her face. Zayn’s eyes caught hers as he towered over Emma. He offered a friendly wave and gestured for her to join them. She nervously stepped over the threshold and swallowed gently.

“Zayn, do you remember (Y/n)? You guys met a while back.” Emma said with a gesture of her hand as (Y/n) approached them.

Immediately, she recognized his features - from his dark eyes to his nearly fully inked arms. His tattooed sleeves wrapped over his shoulders, around his neck, crept over each wrist and wiggled around his fingers. He was covered, to say the least. She could only presume the rest of him looked like that. Colorful tattoos mixed with jet black ones littered his skin. And she noticed, of course, that his hair was blond now like Niall had mentioned.

“I think so, yeah. You’re the chick Niall said could outdrink me, right?” Zayn asked with a laugh.

“I don’t drink that much.. but yeah, that’s me.”

Emma gave her a nudge of her elbow. “She can out drink anyone when she actually lets loose.”

Her eyes rolled as a smile toyed on her lips, still slick from the lip balm. “Yeah yeah.”

“Let me get my chair cleaned off and you ladies can come back here.” Zayn said just as he grabbed the knob to his private room.

They heard something hit the floor and then a shuffle of shoes moving against the tile. Emma furrowed her brows and gave Zayn a curious look.

“Someone in there?”

“Yeah, I just finished a piece.”

He opened the door and went inside, shutting it behind him again. (Y/n) turned towards Emma and gave her a smile, unsure of what to do next. Emma grabbed her hand and nodded towards the open lobby door.

“We can wait in here.”

They returned to the lobby, where (Y/n) was easily distracted by the art on the walls again. There was a print of a skull near the door. It had flowers pouring over the crown of it, which then melted to puddles as they hit the imaginary ground. She thought it was interesting and quite cool. From what she could tell about Zayn’s vibe, it fit it well. The music playing from the speakers in the ceiling was loud enough to be heard but not too invasive. She could tell it was a curated playlist going, because the song that just begun seemed to be sung by the same person as the one before.

“Zayn just texted me.. he said we can come back.”

“I thought someone was-“ (Y/n) stopped speaking the second a body appeared in the doorway. “Oh.”

“Hey, Harry.” Emma said with a friendly tone as she stood up, motioning for (Y/n) to follow her.

“Hey, Emma.” The stranger replied with a quick lift of one corner of his mouth.

(Y/n) was slightly confused because it obviously appeared that the two knew each other. She had never heard Emma refer to anyone by the name of Harry, at least not that she could recall. She licked her lips and let her eyes fall down his tall, broad frame.

“What did you get?” Emma asked with her usual curious voice.

(Y/n) was listening, but she wasn’t paying that much attention. She couldn’t help but be taken aback by the appearance of the person in front of them. He was tall, much taller than Niall but probably close to Zayn’s height. He looked like a sky scraper standing in front of Emma and herself, both of which were shorter than average. His long, dark hair shaped into curls that were messily laying on his shoulders. He suddenly swept his hand through his roots the second she realized he had such long hair. The motion caused the lights above them to ricochet off the rings covering his fingers.

“This.” He said as he extended his right arm to them, well mainly to Emma.

There was a freshly inked snake curling around his forearm, each scale placed perfectly on his tanned skin. There were remenents of blood speckled across his skin, and a deep redness that hazed over the entire tattoo.

“Wow! That’s so good.” Emma beamed at the delicate work.

“Yeah, took two sessions. Zayn got a bit tired last time.” He smirked gently at the girl he knew, completely ignoring the one he didn’t.

“Well, it was cool seeing you! Are you headed home?”

He shook his head. “Gonna sit here for a while. I’ve got to be at the store in an hour to help Niall.”

She checked the time. “Yeah, he said he was the only one closing tonight.”

“Emma?” Zayn called from the back room, his head looking around the doorframe searching for her.

“Coming!” She hollered back, taking one last look at Harry’s freshly inked arm. “It was good seeing you. If you leave before I get out of here, I’ll see you later.”

(Y/n) didn’t even realize she was tracing her eyes over his body. His arms were like tree trunks, muscles taut under his skin and veins popping out, rolling around as he moved. His legs were tightly wrapped in a pair of dark jeans, she could tell through the fabric that they were toned as well. It wasn’t until he suddenly walked past her, not even sparing her a glance, that she realized she had been standing frozen.

Emma started towards the back room, (Y/n) in two as she felt an embarrassed blush cover her cheeks. She didn’t know this Harry guy, but she hoped she wasn’t staring too hard at him. It definitely wasnt polite to just stare at a stranger, especially when she was blanking out. What if she was making a face at him? Something nasty, or something rude looking? She was unsure, but chose to ignore it. He didn’t seem bothered by anything as he took a spot on the couch.

Zayn’s office was just as she expected it to be. It was a deep shade of green, the walls coated in framed prints and a few smaller canvases of what she figured was his work. There was a small accent chair placed in the corner for guests. She sat down and started darting her eyes around the room. The type of work that Zayn had pinned to a board on the back wall caught her eye. He seemed to be good at everything, but most of it was bold color work or extremely detailed realism, sort of like the snake she saw on Harry’s arm moments ago. She wondered if Zayn had given himself any of his own tattoos or if he went to someone else. Surely, not every place on his body was accessible by his own hands, but maybe some of them were done by him. She felt like an amateur compared to him. She had a few tattoos placed on her body, but nothing quite as big or detailed as what she saw on the board or on Zayn’s skin.

“(Y/n) is your new house mate, right?” Zayn asked Emma as she got comfortable on the chair.

“Yeah. I moved in before Christmas.”

“But.. you’ve known each other for a while, right? I can’t exactly remember.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah, since we were in college together.”

“Zayn.. do you mind if I look through this?” (Y/n) asked politely as she picked up the small binder off the console table next to the chair. A few figurines of characters she recognized, an hour glass with black sand, and a plant lived on the table as well.

“Of course not, that’s why it’s there.” He gave her a chuckle, but kept his response nice.

She opened the book and started to slowly flick through the pages. She saw his signature on the bottom of the designs. They were all so perfect. Some were executed with such detail and precision that she could've sworn they were fake, others were more loose drawn in a free handed style or just more whimsical in nature. She saw a sketch of a few bees on one of the pages. They were in black and grey, mostly realistic with subtle, soft shading and delicate lines. The drawing was pretty and neat. She glanced to the corner, searching for his signature, but she didn’t find it. Instead, in the corner opposite of where Zayn favored to sign his name was a small H. She hummed to herself, curious to know why Zayn had someone else’s drawing in his book. She quickly shook the thought out and reminded herself that there three other stations in the front. They were not abandoned by any means, she could tell people worked at them based on the different things displayed and the personal trinkets and objects adnoring the areas. Maybe this was one of his college’s work or maybe it was random.

For the most part, the book was filled with things Zayn did. Some of them were his own creations while others were common tattoo designs just drawn by his own hand instead of being pulled from the internet. She liked the way he had a bunch of his own things offered in styles that were more popular. He appeared to be a well versed artist with the talent to create just about anything.

As Zayn prepped Emma’s skin for her tattoo, he was talking to her about Niall’s store. He asked how it was going and if she had heard any horror stories yet of Niall messing up payroll or forgetting to stock an item. She only laughed and said she was surprised he was staying so calm and organized. Everything about the store was going more than according to plan, as at least as much as (Y/n) could tell from what she’s heard. She was still so happy for Niall. His hobby had turned into a passion and a business and he was able to share it with others, it was like a dream come true she bet.

“Alright, are y’ready?” Zayn said with a deep breath of his own as Emma grew more and more nervous in the chair.

“I think so.”

“You’ll do fine, Em.” (Y/n) encouraged from the corner, her eyes now focused on her friend.

“Just take some deep breaths. Tell me if it’s too much.” Zayn told her as he pulled the stencil paper off her foot. The flower wasn’t that big, but there were lots of tiny details that Zayn knew would probably hurt her more than anything else she’s gotten. “Just a tattoo.”

“If I cry, you can’t tell Niall. I told him I could handle this.” Emma mumbled out with a frown as she stared at her foot.

Zayn smiled and leaned back, the gun still buzzing in his hand. “Before I start, is it in the spot you want?”

“What do you think? Is it good?” She asked him, twisting her foot to a different pose.

“It’s not my foot, love.”

She groaned and looked over towards (Y/n). “Can you check?”

(Y/n) laughed a little but nodded as she stood up. Just as she was about to step towards them, Emma called for someone else to take a peek at the design.

“Harry? Are you still in there?” Her voice echoed through the room, she hoped that it spilled into the lobby so he could hear her. After a few seconds, she grunted and pulled her phone out to shoot him a text. “I’m so nervous.”

“It looks fine to me.. but it’s your decision.” Zayn told her with a gentle sigh.

(Y/n) looked down at the placement of the tattoo, her arms behind her back with her hands locked. “Yeah, it’s cute.”

She gave Emma a hopeful smile before turning around. The door opened just as she moved her body, the stranger that wasn’t a stranger to anyone but her, walked in the room, chuckling as he saw Emma fanning her face, the heat swelling her skin with sweat and her eyes with tears - she was nervous.

“You always do this.” Zayn couldn’t resist laughing as Harry walked to them.

(Y/n) was back in her seat now, her eyes fixed on her phone as she waited for Emma to decide her fate. She could hear snickers coming from Zayn and Harry as they talked about the tattoo and Emma’s apparent hesitation that always came out when she was in Zayn’s chair.

“It’s fine, Emma.” Harry said, giving her a smile before looking to Zayn. “Make sure it hurts.”

“Harry, shut up!” Emma groaned and tried to kick at him. He laughed and took a step back. “You guys are bullies.”

“You’ll be alright, Em. It’s not like it's your first.” Zayn reminded her.

She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. “Whatever. Go ahead, then. Thanks, Harry.”

“Welcome.” He said lightly before disappearing out of the door again.

(Y/n) wondered why he didn’t stay in the room with them. Was he not interesting in hearing the painful grunts Emma would sure be letting out soon or watching Zayn draw his design perfected for Emma into her skin? Maybe he was tired of being near the tattoo gun since he spent however long getting his own. She pushed the thought aside entirely the moment she heard Emma groan, curses falling form her lips but not directly towards anyone.

Zayn leaned over her foot, his fingers pulling her skin tight as he worked the needle into it. It didn’t look like it was much fun, and (Y/n) became grateful that she had no intention of ever inking anything onto her foot.

—•—

There was a freshness in the air as she looked around Niall’s music store. It smelt like freshly picked lemons, probably because he had just sprayed down the counter before she came in following behind Emma. Niall was in one of his usual band tees and a pair of jeans as he sat on a stool with a guitar resting on his thigh. He was talking with a customer, comparing the similarities of two different guitar brands. Emma found herself busy with the items on the checkout counter - dropping loose pens back into their cup and adjusting the pile of papers Niall had pushed to the side.

(Y/n) stayed curious as she looked around the store. It was very easy to get caught up in the different items, especially since she had little to no idea what some of the accessories were for. Niall provided more than just items for guitars. She didn’t try to decipher every thing on the shelves, just simply moved her eyes across the packages, curiosity settling in her instead of blurting out questions to Niall. The girls came by to bring him some lunch before they did some grocery shopping for the week. Niall was appreciative, but he was unable to entertainment right away.

Emma smiled as the customer approached the counter, the one Niall had been chatting with. She stepped aside and let Niall take over the register. He had another employee here, but he was in the back room looking for a specific thing they needed to restock on one of the shelves. (Y/n) waited near by as Niall scanned the guitar music book the customer wanted to get and told him that he’d see him when he returned for the guitar - the customer hadn’t made his decision just yet.

When it was just the three of them at the counter, a few customers were lingering around the store just browsing, Niall gave them both a warm smile before wrapping his arms around Emma for a quick hug.

“Thanks for lunch. I’ll eat it when Josh gets off his break.” He said with a sigh, folding his arms and leaning them on the counter.

“The store is so nice, Niall.” (Y/n) complimented as she glanced around.

“Thanks.”

Emma walked from behind the counter to where (Y/n) was standing. She was about to ask her something about their plans for the day when her eyes fell on the few pieces of paper taped to the front edge of the counter. One was the refund policy, one was about the instrument lessons, and the other was new since the last time she was here.

“Oh, a flyer? That’s unusual.” Emma suddenly said as she pressed her finger against the pink dyed paper. “For the show?”

“The show?’’ (Y/n) asked with a drop of her brows as she read over the words printed in bold black letters.

“Yeah, Niall’s band. They play at a bar across town every couple of weeks.” Emma told her.

(Y/n) remembered as soon as she heard it. Emma had told her before, long ago when she first started dating Niall, that he was in a cover band. It wasn’t anything serious, not trying to search for record deals or gain stardom, it was just him and his friends having a good time. They got decent money for it, including tips from audiences, and it allowed them to play the instruments each member enjoyed. She wasn’t sure who was in the band as Emma never got to that detail before.

“Oh, right.” She nodded as the memory returned to her brain. “That’s cool.”

“Can’t believe Emma’s never brought you to a show.” Niall said with a somewhat surprised expression.

“I invited her a few times but she’s usually busy with work stuff.” Emma defended herself, even though there was no issue with it.

(Y/n) smiled at her and shrugged. “I remember you asking a couple times.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to attend if you’d like.” Niall offered as he pushed himself off the counter the moment the bell jingled above the entrance door.

He went to greet the customer, someone he actually was used to seeing come in the store, leaving the girls alone again.

“Yeah, it would be fun if you came! You could finally meet Alyssa. She’s usually just home with her and Zayn’s kid.. she doesn’t go out much anymore, but she loves the shows.” Emma exclaimed with a sparkle in her eye.

“I dunno.. when is it?” She asked, glancing at the flyer.

“Next Saturday night. It would be cool, (Y/n)! We haven’t went out since Halloween.”

The stress building up at work during the holidays definitely set her back from enjoying a lot of things, including several invitations from Emma to join her and Niall at a bar or go out for dinner with just the two of them. It truly felt like forever since she got to have fun with her friend. She thought about it for a moment, but only lifted her shoulder at the idea. The mention of meeting Zayn’s fiancé was intriguing since she had heard so much about her from Emma, but she doubted that would be enough to pull her out for the night.

“Maybe.. depends on how the week goes.”

Emma gave her a partial smile. “Okay. I really hope you can go with me.”

“Yeah, you should definitely come, (Y/n).” Niall said as he appeared next to them, the customer gone to look for the item they asked him about.

Once again, she let out a small sigh and faked a smile for them. “I said I’ll see how the week goes, but no promises.”

He gave her a fake, dramatic frown. “C’mon! Live a little!”

“I live a lot.. at work.”

Emma grabbed her elbow and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll convince you before the week ends.”

“M’sure you will, Em.”

After spending a few more minutes talking to Niall, and then waiting in the car as he and Emma disappeared into his office to say a private goodbye, (Y/n) was ready to get the grocery shopping over with. The store they frequented was near by, so the drive was short and easy. It wasn’t close to their shared house, but the prices were better than anywhere else. Emma offered to take her car, so that left (Y/n) in the passenger seat with her eyes glued to whatever passed by the window.

“Are you okay, (Y/n)?” Emma asked as they strolled through the fruit section in search for the items on their list.

She gulped gently, distracting herself by collecting a few apples for the cart. “M’fine, just tired.”

Emma watched as she walked towards the basket of lemons and grabbed two, she’d need them for a receipe she was going to try later in the week. (Y/n) was normally not this quiet. She enjoyed the task of grabbing their groceries and checking things off their combined list while Emma pushed the cart and double checked everything. Something about doing such a mundane thing made her feel content and comfortable, even if they decided randomly to try a new store they’d never been in. But today was different, Emma was growing concerned with her unusually quiet friend.

“If you’re irritated with me and Niall pushing you about the show.. I’m sorry. You don’t have to go.” Emma said with a soft frown as (Y/n) returned to the cart with a handful of bananas.

She sat them down and lifted her hesitant gaze to meet her closest friend’s. “I’m fine, Emma. Just tired.”

She shook her head gently. “No, you’re too quiet. What’s wrong?”

“You and Niall didn’t bother me, I swear. The bar thing is.. whatever. I’ll think about it, I promise. It’s just.. one of those days.”

Emma wasn’t believing it all the way. Sure, maybe (Y/n) was being truthful about the role her and Niall played in her newfound mood, or didn’t play - but something else was up. She licked her lips and decided to stay quiet as (Y/n) busied herself with grabbing the rest of the fruits before moving onto the fresh vegetables.

Although she didn’t want to press it any further, Emma couldn’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened at the music shop or on the way to the grocery store. Her worry was growing quickly and it wasn’t very long before she was asking another question.

“(Y/n), please tell me. Are you alright?”

She received a sigh as a response, a couple of tomatoes and a bag of baby carrots joined the cart. “Emma, please.. I’m fine.”

“Something is wrong with you. I don’t want to see you so down.”

(Y/n) walked towards the next section of the store, knowing that Emma would follow her with the cart no matter if they were talking or not. She held her breath as she thought about what was bothering her. She was too caught up with her racing mind to realize she was actually expressing her emotions on the outside. Emma noticed everything, so clearly she wasn't doing well at hiding it. There was no real issue, really, nothing that anyone caused by saying or doing anything. A lump slid down her throat, Emma was her friend - there was no need to keep anything from her.

Just as they turned down the aisle where the bread was, she stopped in her tracks and turned towards the cart, her hand reaching out to stop it. Emma froze, a lift of her brows offering confidence like a good friend should.

“The guy that walked through the door right before we left.. at Niall’s store..” She started with a strong voice, but it slowly faded to almost a whisper.

Emma nodded, encouraging her to continue. She looked down to the floor as the moment replayed in her memory. It wasn’t an unusual thing for her to experience, in fact it was more common than not. One little thing, one random glance from a passerby, one glimpse of someone with a similar shade of hair as her own, one note from a list of songs she knew were special..

“He reminded me of my brother. I.. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Her response made Emma’s stomach turn to knots. She knew that the conversation was over then, and there wasn’t anything else she could try that would break (Y/n). The forbidden topic had been brought up, and quickly dropped back to the vault she kept it locked away in. Emma didn’t mention it again..

[a/n: this is a series! It’s a lot longer per part than my other stuff so I hope you enjoy! This is just the intro so it will be more interesting and exciting as it goes on! reblog, like, do all that lovely stuff!!]

taglist: (notified for all // if you want to join a taglist for this series, lmk in a comment or message and I’ll start one)

@walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl @lomllover @haniaaa04 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @sassamanda77 @lizsogolden

[wonderjanga]

Being Your Parents to School Day

Billy doesn’t know what to do for Bring Your Parent to School day. See, you’re supposed to bring a parent or parents and apparently you would get to decorate cookies with them, but uh… Billy doesn’t have parents. And he really wants some free cookies too. So, he ended up bringing the two next best things.

Teacher: “Oh? Billy these are your parents?”

Billy: *holding Tawny’s hand while the ghost of the Wizard is somehow floating beside him* “No, Tawny’s kinda my uncle, and Mr. Wizard Sir is kinda like a grandpa.”

Teacher: *not even fazed cause ✨Fawcett✨* “I see! Well, have fun you guys!”

The pair that came after them was a little girl and her dad who had the head of a fish. It’s safe to say weird parents/kids/family genealogy is normal.

Billy and Tawny: *frosting their cookies*

Wizard: *just floating there* “I can’t pick anything up to frost.” *sulking on the inside*

Billy: “Eh, that’s fine. Maybe I can extract the ghost of a cookie and you can eat it!”

Wizard: “Uh… You know what? I’d love for you to do that Billy.” *tries to pat his head only for his hand to go through*

Billy: *shivers* “Brain freeze!”

Wizard: “Ah my apologies, Billy.”

Ghost Granny: *floats over to them* “Amazing, I’ve never met another ghost around my age.”

Wizard: “Yes… your age.” *is older than this woman by thousands of years*

Ghost Granny: “Not being able to touch things is a real pain, isn’t it?”

Wizard: *old man sigh* “Indeed.”

So, while the Wizard was chatting it up with the Granny, Billy and Tawny were still frosting cookies.

Billy: *looks over to Tawny to see beautiful works of frosted art* “Woah! Tawny you’re good at this.”

Tawny: “Thank you, Billy.” *looks over to Billy’s cookies* “Is that… tiger fur?” *points to one of the cookies that has a bit of tiger fur clinging to its frosting*

Billy: “Ew… it is.” *picks it out of the frosting*

Tawny: “Billy, you’re not even the tiger in this situation. How’d that get there?”

Billy: “I dunno.” *shrugs and sets aside the cookie he was frosting in the ‘For Mr Wizard Sir’ pile*

Wizard: *floats back over* “Billy, are those for me?”

Billy: “Yup!”

Wizard: *staring at his pile touched because there’s like seven cookies in the pile and maybe more to come*

Billy: “Did you need something, Mr Wizard Sir?”

Wizard: “Ah.” *clears throat* “Yes. Billy, I was wondering if I had permission to gloat about you to Ms Gertrude and her other ghostly friends.”

Billy: “Huh…?”

Wizard: “They seemed to make it a competition to talk about which of their grandchildren are the best and I want to make sure you’re the winner.”

Billy: “Oh.” *blinks rapidly* “Okay!” *smiles*

Wizard: “Thank you.” *tries to pat his head again only for his hand to go through once more*

Billy: *shivers like earlier* “Brain freeze!”

[heyftinally]

I specifically want to elaborate on this part:

Decontextualizing and rephrasing an interview: I am not going to pretend that I am an expert in academic best practices, but I do believe one thing, if a person is speaking on their own identity and lived experience, it is always much better to directly quote than it is to rephrase. As I read this source, I initially didn't know that it was AI, and I was already upset. An interview that is widely available on the internet with no pay wall, was poorly sourced and made more vague than it was in the initial text. By creating one degree of seperation between the original words of A WRITER (whose literal job was largely based in choosing the right words to describe experiences they had) harm is already done. It makes vague what was once clear, and removes Keri Hulme's voice from her own narrative.

As someone who has spent a LOT of time and effort on the nitty-gritty of quoting others in professional documents, I feel like I have a pretty good foundation on which to speak about this.

As a general rule, you want to directly quote the speaker as much as possible.

First and foremost, this is because you don't want to put words in their mouth or misrepresent what they said, as that's dishonest on your part as the interviewer/writer/etc, and harms your credibility. Remember the "Coolsville sucks" meme? Yeah, don't be that person. Quotes should be full and verbatim as much as possible, because anything else presents the possibility that you aren't accurately or fully representing what the speaker said.

The second reason is because when you re-word someone else's quote, you inherently inject your own biases into the new version you create. What that means is, consciously or unconsciously, you are influencing the way readers perceive what was said. This is bad because at best, you're speaking over the person who's quote you re-worded. At worst, you're manipulating your readers to think as you do, regardless of what the original quote said.

When presenting a quote from someone else, your job is to communicate as clearly as possible the speaker's original statement and intention. If giving the direct quote is not possible, careful paraphrasing is vital.

If I say "Sara James then went on to express her dissatisfaction with the pay she received", what would you assume the original quote is?

It could be "Yeah, I found out I was only getting paid ⅓ as much as my costar, even though I have 40% more screen time and I did almost all of my own stunts, so needless to say I'm not happy and I've been talking to my team."

But it could ALSO be "I was surprised when I found out what we were all getting paid. Not to sound like a total nepo baby or anything, but normally the projects I do pay more, y'know? But then I found out that the reason pay was lower for everyone - not just me - was because production was donating a whole bunch of money to the local children's hospital since we filmed in the lot next door. Which I thought was really cool of them! Like, obviously the hospital doesn't get much say in the filming, so I thought it was really cool of production to give back as, like, a thank you. Plus we got to go visit the kids, which was just amazing!"

TECHNICALLY in both of these, you could argue that displeasure about pay IS mentioned - but the specifics of the situation are entirely lost in the oversimplified paraphrasing, and THAT is why changing direct quotes can be dangerous.

So, yeah. I just wanted to elaborate on that particular point because it's one I covered *heavily* while in college. How you quote someone is important.

":')))))))) you realise that gen AI is available to everyone though right??? Queer creators can use it just as much as anyone else??? I just don't understand this post... It really feels like a cheap way to get on the 'AI Bad's bandwagon, and coming from such a thoughtful and insightful creator that's incredibly disappointing... It's okay to not comment on subjects you're not an expert in y'know...?"

Y'all know the drill, I am replying to this publicly but that is not an invitation to send any negative messages to the person I am replying to.

Anyways, let me start by saying that the original context of the post you're replying to is discussing an event where a queer org used generative AI to steal an interview with Keri Hulme. So let's start there. To be clear I don't even know if the original interviewer was queer so let's put the identities of stealer and stolen from to the side. I want to explain the harm done in this example specifically and I hope this is illustrative of what harm generative AI can (and does) do.

The original place I saw generative AI was a queer org that explicitly says they are using generative AI "for good", and as a way to bring more queer history to light. So let's take them at their word, and assume they are not out to cause harm. This is the best example of generative AI that I can imagine, so I hope that makes it clear that I am not coming at this issue from bad faith in any way.

Here is the harm they are causing:

Decontextualizing and rephrasing an interview: I am not going to pretend that I am an expert in academic best practices, but I do believe one thing, if a person is speaking on their own identity and lived experience, it is always much better to directly quote than it is to rephrase. As I read this source, I initially didn't know that it was AI, and I was already upset. An interview that is widely available on the internet with no pay wall, was poorly sourced and made more vague than it was in the initial text. By creating one degree of seperation between the original words of A WRITER (whose literal job was largely based in choosing the right words to describe experiences they had) harm is already done. It makes vague what was once clear, and removes Keri Hulme's voice from her own narrative.

The original interviewer is not paid, or given proper recognition: I get it, sometimes just copy pasting an interview doesn't feel transformative enough, but something that one would learn if they worked in the queer history field and weren't a literal robot rehashing what has already been said, is that not everything needs to be transformed. In those cases, we give credit to the person who said the original words (in this case Keri Hulme), and the interviewer who facillitated the conversation (in this case Shelley Bridgeman). This case (again a best case scenario), takes the attention and byline away from the original interviewer and gives it to an AI.

The original publisher of this story is deinsentivised from paying interviewers in the future: The original publisher of this interview has ads on their website. As a person who also has ads on their website, taking an article like this and rephrasing it for no good reason (the orginal word count was not prohibitive and the rephrasing did not make it more readable), takes money from the publisher. It's pennies, but it's also removing numbers could have been used to justify further interviews with asexual people and archiving of asexual stories. The org that stole from this publication does not interview people themselves so the money and numbers that could have gone to continue to preserve asexual stories goes to stealing them instead.

These are just the active harms that I saw in this specific case. As you said, I am not an expert in generative AI, and will not be speaking as if I am. But I will say that asking me not to speak out on active harm that is being caused in queer history spaces, is disrespectful to my many years in this field.

To illustrate this even clearer: if you were a patron, you would know I recently took down an old article. I have been rereading and editing our backlist of articles, and I found one that no longer fit my standards of sourcing. My standards had recently raised due to a video made by HBomberguy about someone in the queer history space who was stealing from other creators. I watched this video not as a work project, but because I watch most of HBomberguys videos, and this one made me think more critically about sourcing. An AI can't do that. All an AI has is what has been inputted, and it is right now impossible to input every available peice of information about ethics into an AI and get a coherent ethical basis on which it will function.

It is a distinctly human trait to absorb information and change in that way. AI can rephrase information that already exists, steal it, recontextualize it even, but it cannot create something altogether new.

Do I believe that there one day might be an ethical use for Generative AI? Maybe. Do I believe that coming into a queer history space, stealing the words of a Maori asexual author, rephrasing them, and giving the original interviewer and publication no form of compensation for their work, is accomplishing that? No.

On a more personal note: I am coming at this issue with a bias. As a queer history creator, I do not want AI in my space, because it is literally damaging to my financial prospects. It has been like pulling teeth to try and get patrons in the current state of the global economy. I don't blame anyone from that, but I feel very disrespected that I am being asked to compete with a machine now. Not only that, but I am being asked to shut up and be fine with it? No, absolutely not. I cannot and will not stay quiet as space that I have fought tooth and nail to create in mainstream discussions is taken and given to AI.

AI was not supporting me when I was sent gore to try and scare me off of discussing queer history. A person did that. AI was not there to tell me I had written too many sad stories, and I needed some happy endings to remind myself of the good in the world. A person did that. AI was not there when I was being harrassed for supporting and including asexual stories on my website. A person did that.

And after all that, I am being asked to lie down and take it when my ability to pay the people who supported me in those ways, is being threatened. Nope. Not going to happen.

An AI doesn't have to make rent. An AI doesn't understand what it feels like to have to stop holding their wife's hand in public. An AI didn't get calls from people needing comfort in reaction to the election. Pay me for my work, and get this AI nonsense out of my face.

[chiumii]

in sickness and in health ~ sim jaeyun x reader

౨ৎ inspiried by this request ! ♡  .⋆。⊹ ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 제이크 ] ☆ in which your lovely husband decides to take care of you when you are sick, in more ways than just one

word count ; 1.8k

softdom! jake x sick! reader drabble. sleepy fingering , Jake is so so sweet gag me w a fork , established marriage , praise , begging , hickeys / markings , begging , slight daddy kink , more .

as you hear the front door open and close, you begin to stir into consciousness after being in and out of sleep for the past few hours. your nose is clogged as your throat feels raw and sore, your head feels like a hollow balloon and your entire body aches. you had found the strength to get up out of bed and change into warmer clothes - settling on one of jake’s larger hoodies simply because it had the familiar scent of his cologne lingering on the fabric, and a pair of sweat pants that were two sizes too big.

you had fallen asleep on his side of the bed, missing the familiar warmth of his body that brought you indescribable comfort every night. your eyes flutter open, instantly finding the faint figure of a silhouette lingering in the door way. your arms reach out on instinct, jake’s figure slowly coming into view as he begins to take his suits jacket off - hanging it on a hanger before putting it back up in his closet. you smile at your husband , a soft pout prominent on your lips. jake chuckles at you before he puts his hand on your forehead, checking to see how hot you were.

“are you feeling any better baby?” you shake your head no with a shrug of your shoulders, a stinging sensation forming in the back of your nose. jake inwardly smiles at you, his eyes watching your face contort into squinted eyes and lips slightly ajar - the face you normally make when you try to force a sneeze out.

after you sneeze a few times, he kisses the top of your forehead longingly before peeling away from you

“i’m sorry sweetheart, do you need anything?” your husband asks you as he begins to unbutton his collared button up shirt, the sight of his forearms exposed making you feel all sorts of things after being left alone all day confined to your bed. you sit up slightly, your eyes gawking at him as he begins to strip himself of his clothes.

“i dunno, maybe now that you’re home ..” you say quietly, but jake hears you as clear as day. he spins around, the first half of his shirt undone and his nice black dress pants unbuttoned and zipped all the way down. your face heats up at his disheveled appearance, drinking in the delicious sight. Jake can tell by the look on your face that you want one thing and one thing only; knowing you like the back of his own hand. jake chuckles at you before sitting down at the foot of the bed, his hand coming up to rub comforting circles on your calf.

“baby, you’re sick. we can’t” he pouts , tilting his head to the side as he speaks. you huff and cross your arms over your chest, turning your head in order to look away from him. you sniff your nose, finding it difficult to breathe in.

“oh honey, don’t be a brat. i’m going to go heat you up some soup and i’ll be back. after that i’ll run you a bath and we can sit together okay?” your lips remain in a pout, still not turning your head to look over at him. jake sighs at your lack of response, his hand still rubbing gentle circles on your calf through the warm blanket.

“baby, i need you to answer me” you huff again, finally deciding on turning your head to face him fully. you look down at your lap, your fingers fidgeting with one another as you remain pouty-faced. you’ve been left alone all day with your thoughts being your only source of company. every time you got on your phone; your head would start to hurt.

throughout the entire day, your mind was filled with jake and jake alone; how well he takes care of you in so many more ways than just one. how he goes to work in order to fuel your shopping addiction, how he makes you your favorite dishes and runs to the store to get you medicine when you’re sick- and especially when he’s buried between your thighs, his fingers reaching so deeply inside you, jake’s name dripping from your tongue.

you were too tired to touch yourself, and fuck the way jake’s hand lightly gripped your jaw in order to tilt your head up this morning to give you a good-bye kiss was the cherry on top.

your face flushes a deep shade of red as you look up at your husband through your eyelashes, a sigh escaping your mouth. jake tilts his eyebrows up at you, amusement flowing through his veins.

“been thinking about you all day… and you come home looking like this, it makes me feel.. i don’t know. crazy…” jake smirks at your words, his free hand coming to rest on the bed behind him as he leans backwards, his eyes racking down your figure.

“what have you been thinking about love?” you whine in frustration, not wanting to elaborate. you kick his thigh that rests next to your foot jokingly, flustered out of your mind.

“uhm… how well you take care of me, all the time. ‘nd how bad i’ve been needing you…” you speak honestly. the two of you haven’t done anything recently because of your fever and sickness, jake being caught up in the worry of hurting you . jake smiles fondly at you, his heart swelling in adoration and pride. he knows your words are the truth; everything he does- he does it for you. he’s your biggest supporter in everything you accomplish, and he would take care of you always.

"yeah? how do you need me pretty?" he asks, leaning down to crawl over your smaller frame - making you sink further into the mattress below you in silence. jake takes your lack of response with a small smirk that spreads slyly across his face, one of his hands coming to trail its way up your thigh in order to find its way under the blanket.

"where do you need me baby?" he asks once more, your breathing coming out in ragged, shallow breaths. your eyes look up into his, pleading with parted lips.

"here?" he asks, his fingers coming in contact with your clothed heat making a whimper drip off your full lips. you hum in response, your head slowly nodding up and down.

"yes please.." you say under your breath quietly. your pussy pulsates at the contact. jake smiles down at you, pressing his forehead against yours. he begins to massage slow, concentrated circles through your sweats, making your yes fall closed. after a moment of agonizing teasing, he pushes his hand under your sweats, making your stomach flip in nervousness.

"please.." another plea sounds from just under him. jake's hand makes its way down to your panties before pulling them to the side in order to snake his cool fingers through the folds of your wet pussy. your back arches off the mattress slightly in anticipation. neediness slips into your veins like a drug, making jake lowly chuckle.

"such a needy girl, aren't you?" he teases, making you pout. jake focuses his attention to your desperate clit, rubbing focused circles gently on your bundle of nerves that has you moaning out his name. your hands snake up to the square of his shoulders, grabbing onto him in order to ground your mind from slipping away from your body.

you can hear your own wetness as he plays with your swollen pussy, the disgusting sounds were like heaven to jakes ears that he could never, ever get enough of.

jake opts in sliding one of his long fingers into your walls, sliding in with ease thanks to the slick you had provided all for him, because of him. your nails scratch at his back, a tired whimper leaving the back of your throat. his fingers work their magic inside your tight, velvety walls, fingertips softly grazing the sweet spot deep inside you.

your body shakes in his hold, making jake kiss your temple. he trails his kisses down the side of your face - resting on the skin of your neck to leave faint, purple marks. you squirm underneath him as another one of his fingers enters your pussy, fingering you from the inside out.

"my girl just wants to be taken care of huh? wants me to help her in every way possible?" you nod your head, a soft 'yes' incoherently leaves your mouth.

"gonna take such good care of my little angel, make her feel so, so good" and thats exactly what he does - fingering your needy pussy so well that when you close your eyes - you're sent seeing stars on the undersides of your lids. jake has that effect on you - knowing your body better than you possibly could. every inch of you engraved into his mind like an open book he just couldn't seem to forget.

"feels so good, i love you s' much" jake's heart feels like its going to explode, his chest tightening at your words.

"i love you sweet thing" he responds, speaking into your skin while his fingers working faster at splitting you apart. your pussy squeezes his fingers delicately, your desperate cries of his name come to a sweet crescendo.

your body curls into jakes front as he detaches from your neck, letting you bury your face into his chest. everything feels overstimulating and warm, making your mind cloud over with lust.

a warm feeling begins to spread throughout your lower abdomen, your hips bucking up into jakes palm in order to chase after the sensation.

"you close angel?" you frantically nod your head, legs shaking and spreading apart further to grant your husband more access to your body.

"yes,,, yes please... wan' cum please... please let me cum" your begging makes jake feel some sort of power, fueling him into his next choice of words.

"i dunno, have you been a good girl recently?" your eyes fly open, the fear of jake denying you permission to cum makes you pout immensely.

"yes.. been such a good girl f' you" your voice is whiny and desperate, making jake mimic the pout plastered on your face. he ponders for a moment before smiling at you fondly.

"yes you have. been such a patient girl for me recently. don't worry baby, daddys gonna make it all better" his fingers reach a deeper spot inside you, making your toes curl and your back inch further off the bed and right into the palm of your husbands mind.

"cum for me baby" is all he says before your pussy clenches down on his digits that work diligently within your gummy walls, your juices squirting out to signal the snap of your release.

"good girl, let me take good care of you" he whispers into your ear, his movements coming to a slow halt. your body collapses back onto the bed, chest heaving up and down in search of much needed air. jake pulls his fingers out of you with a hiss.

"i love you baby, in sickness and in health" he smiles fondly before kissing the skin of your sweaty forehead.

"i love you more"