#and still expect complete blind support from everyone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

melodyanqel · 24 days ago

Text

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 ── ★ k.js (ii. silent cry)

a freshly new face enters the world of karate who is shy and spineless yet becomes everyone’s favorite fighter. even her stern and tough rival has a soft spot. and possibly more than that.

↬ pairing: kwon jae-sung x fem!oc

↬ genre/tags: romance, fluff, angst, developing relationship, friendship, team bonding, family, shy!sunshine!oc, possessive!kwon

↬ warnings: bullying, fighting, both kwon and oc are hurt

↬ word count: 3.5k words

↬ language key: english, korean

↬ note: this is a longer one and i really went in with the angst lol. i would also like to give an appreciation to my beautiful readers for supporting story because i wasn't expecting to have so many engagements. i even hit over 100 followers! tysm!!

↬ melodyanqel taglist: @pa1nfullyalive @captainquake42 @padmemi @carrotjuicepdf @sebastianstansblog @thebrightest4r @analysisiinternet @erikasurfer

𝐔𝐒𝐀

After accepting the friendship, the Miyagi-Do students and Sophia enjoy their lunchtime while discussing whatever comes to mind.

The guys and Sam learned their new companion is in the sports medicine program. It’s surprising because they wouldn’t expect shy Sophia to have knowledge and enthusiasm about human health.

In their defense, they expected her to do crafting, be a bookworm, or do anything that didn’t relate to severe injuries. But in all honesty, that’s impressive. Sophia could be their doctor because karate involves a lot of violence. But she is a girly girl, who loves cute fashion and animated movies, especially Studio Ghibli, and sweets.

Overall, Sophia is gentle, sensitive, loving, and without a doubt, beautiful.

Then, the bell rings—lunchtime is over.

Both Hawk and Demetri groaned in annoyance.

“I don’t want to go to class. Sophia is more interesting.” Even though they barely met, Hawk wants to spend more time with her—in a platonic relationship, because his heart belongs to Moon. Instantly, Demetri has an idea. “We can exchange numbers and social media, and maybe do a get-together.” He suggested.

Sam smiles with a nod. “That sounds great.” She turns to Sophia. “Whenever you’re free, we could have a fun hang-out at my place. I can also invite our other friends. Robby, Tory, and Devon.” She agrees and brings up the other Miyagi-Do students. Sam may not have the best relationship with Tory, but they get along for the most part.

Sophia looks at the group with bright hazel eyes. “O-Of course! Let me get my phone out.” She grabs her phone with a My Sweet Piano case. One by one, Sophia adds their numbers to her contacts. The group bid each other goodbye and go to their next class.

Sophia didn’t have classes with anyone throughout the day, but it could just be that her classes were all AP (advanced placement). That’s right, she has the brain. Sophia would challenge herself in the highest levels of education and for someone young like her is astonishing. When the day is about to end, she has to meet up with her sports med teacher because she has to know what to do before upcoming sports events.

While walking to the class, Sophia text her best friend, Emily, about her day at West Valley High School. Emily is her childhood friend who is the opposite because she is the definition of an extrovert. She is loud, optimistic, and has no filter. Sophia did have to tell Emily about the mean girl from earlier. Her best friend reacted upset with angry emojis and words in big letters. It made Sophia laugh and uplifted her mood.

Suddenly, she bumps into someone’s arm. Sophia quickly looks up from her phone. “I’m so sorry!” She apologizes to the person and fear creeps up. It’s the same mean girl.

“Ugh, you again.” She crossed her arms and had a disgusted expression. “You know, even with glasses, you are still blind. Why don’t I completely make your world go dark.” The bully raises her fist to punch Sophia. The scared redhead closes her eyes and waits for the painful hit.

However, she feels nothing.

Sophia opens her eyes to notice a tall blonde girl in front of her, holding the bully’s fist. “She said sorry and you have to accept it.” Her husky voice states a defense. She squeezes the mean girl’s hand, tighter. The blonde girl smirks when she sees the pathetic bully whimper. “Okay, okay! I’ll accept it!” She pleads and her hand is free.

Soon enough, the mean girl runs off elsewhere like a coward.

The blonde turns around to face Sophia. Her fierce face softens. “Are you alright?” She asked kindly. The petite girl answers. “Yes, thank you. It’s not the first time I’ve bumped into her.” Sophia lets out a dry chuckle. The blonde sighs, “You’re welcome and it’s not your fault.” She reassured the shy one. Sophia gives a nod that she understands.

“I’m Tory. And I assume you are new here.” The blonde introduced herself and inquired about not being familiar with Sophia’s appearance. Tory gets a shocking response. “Yes, and my name is Sophia. Are you the Tory that Sam, Miguel, Hawk, and Demetri know?” Sophia wonders if she is the girl that Sam briefly mentioned. Tory figured she had already met the Miyagi-Do students.

The blonde fighter draws a small smile. “Yes, that is me. Now that you know who I am and my friends, we should start ours. Can I have your number and do you have Instagram?” She takes out her phone from her back pocket. Sophia puts a gleeful smile on her face. “Sure and yes I do!” She hands her device over to Tory. After doing it, they have to get back to doing their things.

“Well, I’ll see you around.” Tory hopes to have a girls' day with Sophia.

“You too, and enjoy the rest of the day.” The smaller girl waves goodbye and begins heading to the sports med class. Tory watches her form disappear into the distance. Despite knowing her for a few minutes, she can tell Sophia is loyal and generous.

Moving along, Tory has to do mandatory training at the new dojo. After leaving Cobra Kai, she joined Miyagi-Do and it seemed like she found a new home. It’s a smart or bad decision, but let’s see how it goes.

Just her luck, Sophia wasn’t late and right on time. She greets her teacher who is behind her desk on her computer. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Reed! I’m Sophia, your new student!” She has the older woman’s attention when she stops typing. Mrs. Reed becomes elated. “Hello, Sophia! So glad to finally meet you!” She stands up from her hair to give the younger a handshake. Sophia respectfully takes it. Once the greeting, Mrs. Reed offers her a seat at an empty desk.

The class has no students because Mrs. Reed has a free period. So, she’ll have to wait for the next bell. However, it’s nice that she gets to have a little time with Sophia.

“You’ve been in sports med since you were a freshman in Oregon?” The teacher questioned.

Sophia responded, “Correct. I’m still surprised how I wasn’t grossed out by gnarly injuries like a fractured ankle when I first started.” She humors yet tells her honesty, making Mrs. Reed giggle.

The older woman says, “I was like that too, and my peers would think I was weird. But, it’s okay. In the real world of sports medicine, it does get gruesome. For now, I’ll explain what you’ll be doing next week.” Mrs. Reed goes to her desk to grab a paper with the list of duties for Sophia’s first day.

As she reads the list, she’ll do the same things as in previous years. Sophia needs to prevent, diagnose, treat, and rehabilitate injuries.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐀

In the early morning, daylight unwraps the hues of the world.

Kwon is up and ready for another day at the dojang. Before he ate his breakfast, an avocado toast, he did his routine of push-ups, sit-ups, and other stretches. Kwon needs to maintain enough spirit because he does not back down easily.

His brawny hands with gel comb through his raven hair to do his usual hairstyle. He doesn’t know when or how he got his signature look, but it suits him. Kwon then hears his phone buzzing on the bathroom counter. He reads the notifications that it’s from his mother. Kwon dresses himself in his gi, leaves the bathroom, and looks at what she sent him.

Hello, my Jae-sung. I wish you the best of luck today! Let me know how everything goes.

His lips etch a tender grin. Kwon replies to his mother while grabbing his backpack with his necessities: lunch, a water bottle, his wallet, and a book to read whenever he goes on break. Right before he locks up his apartment, his phone buzzes again. He takes it out of his pocket to check. It’s his dad. Kwon opens the message and reads it.

Hi, son. I also wish you lots of luck today.

His parents are showing the same encouragement as always. Kwon replies to his father with appreciation and makes his way to the dojang—it’s more like a gorgeous forest on the outskirts of Seoul. Kwon wears his AirPods and listens to music. He makes it to the subway station. Good thing for Kwon, there aren’t a lot of people. He purchases a ticket without waiting in line and his transportation arrives quickly.

His day is going too well, and he hopes to keep it that way.

Once entering the train, the young man sits by himself and grabs his book from his backpack. He is reading a manga from his favorite Japanese series, Jujutsu Kaisen. Kwon loves the storyline, arcs, and the characters. His favorite is Yuta Okkotsu. He is a sorcerer with an unfortunate childhood but has his ways of fighting against his demons. Kwon shares some similarities with the character Yuta. He grew up with a tough childhood with bullying, self-guilt, and so much anger that’s suppressed.

But the only things keeping him alive are his parents and martial arts.

After thirty minutes of sitting, Kwon arrives at the station that leads to the dojang. He gets off the subway and sees some of his teammates in the area. He frowns when he spots his archrival Yoon Do-jin’s stupid smiling face talking to others. It sucks that he has to follow them. Kwon shrugs it off and focuses on today’s training.

Kwon places his backpack underneath a nearby gazebo, fixes his black belt, and goes down the steps that lead to a lake. As soon as he and his teammates gather around, they bow to Sensei Kim standing in the center. She explains what’s happening next. “We’ll be practicing the Viper Attack Combination. I need everyone to succeed in this lesson because I know you all have the strength and determination. Understood?” Da-eun introduced them to a new yet deadly move in karate that’s one of the most challenging ones out there.

“Yes, sensei!” Her students obliged.

Da-eun grins, “Very well, then.” Her cat-like eyes land on the geum baeji. “Do-jin, you’ll be in charge while I welcome a visitor.” She tells Yoon. “Yes, sensei.” He does a bow that he’ll follow her demand. Yoon does not see it but he can sense Kwon’s side-eye is burning on the side of his skull.

He and Kwon had never gotten along since Da-eun picked him as the best student in this dojang. Yoon believes he got picked because his relatives were also students under the Kim Family dojang for generations and he isn’t short-tempered or wayward like Kwon.

Shortly enough, Yoon instructs his teammates to get in line to practice the Viper Attack Combination. He asked one of his friends, Jung, to hold up the board. Jung followed along and helped out. Before starting, they bow and then begin their training.

In the line, Kwon witnesses Da-eun talking to an older, Caucasian man dressed in a black and white gi. The young man perceives that he is the visitor she mentioned. Yoon goes up next to demonstrate the Viper Attack Combination. He strikes a few punches on the board and does a 180 kick, which causes the wood to split in half. Kwon snickers quietly at his rivals’ attempt. He’ll show it in a much better way.

His teammate in front of him was about to do it, but he stopped him, and cut in line. Jung held the board flat for him. Kwon turned it sideways and gestured to Jung to hold it up higher than his height. Kwon takes a couple of steps back and lets out a powerful cry. He jumps off the ground, spins himself 360, and kicks the wood. It breaks so effortlessly.

“That’s how you do it!” Kwon shouts at his teammates.

Da-eun has a disappointed look on her face. She and Kreese watched the moment unravel across from them. Kreese is silently impressed by her students. Da-eun scolds her rebellious fighter. “Kwon Jae-sung! You did not follow the lesson!”

The raven scoffs and starts talking in English. “It’s a waste of time. Just go straight for head. No head, no fight.” He tries to prove a point.

However, Da-eun wasn’t referring to his logic. “No shortcuts! And for your defiance, you will have a new assignment.” She insists he’ll not do today’s lesson.

Kwon smirks, “Whatever it is, I can do.” He hopes it’s something extraordinary.

Da-eun says, “I am sure you can. Go and clean my grandfather’s toilet.” She decides to give him a punishment. Kwon hears his teammates laughing at him and sees Yoon doing the same. What a little shit.

Of course, Kwon can’t deny his sensei’s demands. He turns around to walk back. Kwon didn’t care about bumping his shoulders against a couple of his teammates as he passed them. He’ll be doing the literal dirty work.

And just when he thought he was going to have a good day.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

𝐔𝐒𝐀

2 pm.

School is done and the people are ready to head home. After talking with Mrs. Reed, Sophia feels great to be part of a new team. She and Emily met in sports medicine before moving. Like her, Emily wasn’t squeamish about seeing blood and broken bones. They were the weird ones yet hard-working.

When walking out of the building, Sophia gets a text message from Sam about meeting up for a quick food stop with the guys, Robby, Devon, and Tory. She taps on the keyboard, saying she’ll be down for it. Sophia hasn’t met Robby and Devon yet so, it should be interesting. Once the message is sent, she waits outside as the students around her leave the campus. She made it through the day, which was an accomplishment.

Sophia is minding her own business when she gets pushed to the ground, out of nowhere. She lands on her right, feeling the cement scraping the flesh of her arm and hip. Sophia hisses from the impact and looks to see who made her fall. It’s that mean girl, once again with her friends this time.

“You think I’m done with you. I don’t accept apologies from freaks. I’ll make sure your entire year is a living hell.” She threatens Sophia and kicks her in the stomach while her friends stomp on her back and legs.

Tears are falling from her hazel orbs. “Please, stop! It was all an accident!” Sophia begs but they won’t listen. Is this how she’ll be living the rest of her life here? Getting assaulted and being too weak to defend herself.

It felt like an eternity when the beating just magically stops. Sophia’s ears picked up familiar voices.

“That’s enough, bitches!”

“Don’t you even know what sorry meant!”

She hears Sam and Tory yelling at her bullies. Sophia watches the duo punch and kicks them. They landed on the cement, groaning in agony. She also notices a tall brunette girl standing over them. “Oh, you three better run before I do something that’ll break all of your faces.” She throws a warning. As usual, they got up and ran away.

Sophia is still on the ground, but she feels someone’s gentle touch to make her sit up. In their hands, they could feel her shaking like a leaf. “You’re safe now.” It was a male voice with comfort laced through it. Sophia cranes her neck to see a boy with worrisome green eyes and light brown hair pushed back. Miguel, Hawk, and Demetri are also here. They have concerned faces. She assumes the one helping her sit is Robby.

Then comes the girls. Sam, Tory, and Devon approach Sophia to make her stand on her feet. Sam goes to hug Sophia while Tory gingerly brushes her copper ginger locks and Devon picks up her supplies. Sophia returns Sam’s embrace and sobs.

The pain lingers all over her body.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐀

Humiliation is what Kwon is feeling right now.

He eats his lunch alone, underneath a tree, while the others happily interact. Kwon wants this day to end already. Even though it was his mistake in cutting, his demonstration of the Viper Attack is what it should be. As much as he honors Da-eun, Kwon wants to fight in a different style. He is certain it’ll contribute to his team.

“Everyone!”

Da-eun makes them have their eyes on her. “After your break, you all will return to the dojang and our visitor has some words for us. Are we clear?” She instructed. They said, “Yes, sensei!” And went back to what they were doing. Kwon lets out a breath because he knows it’ll be pointless. He has to admit Kresse looks intimidating, but it doesn’t matter.

Subsequently, the raven throws away his kimbap wrapper into the trash can and meets with his teammates. Lunchtime is over. Kwon truthfully didn’t want it to end because he is not ready for a lame lecture.

The students are lined up in rows with their hands behind their backs. Da-eun claims that Kreese is one of the strongest senseis to train at this dojang. She also commands her students to give him full respect and attention when he starts talking. As always, they obeyed their sensei.

Kreese strides as he speaks, “I trained him to be the best of the best. He dominated every opponent he ever faced. He was destined to become a world champion. And then, one day,” he pauses before continuing, “it all changed. He lost to an insignificant, scrawny little runt with maybe six weeks of training. And why did he lose? Because this opponent had more heart. So, class, how do we defeat an opponent who has more heart?”

He asked everyone and two students, including Yoon, answered. The first guys got it wrong while Yoon said, “Have heart yourself, sensei.”

Kreese tugged a grin because his response sounded convincing. However, Kwon spoke out of the blue, “Or kill their heart with strong kick to ribs.” He thinks this is all pointless. Why do you need a heart to win in a fight? It’s not playful or friendly in the world of martial arts.

Da-eun scolds Kwon like typical. “You do not speak!”

But Kreese raises two fingers to silence the female mentor. He steps forward to the rebellious man’s space. “Kwon, is it?” Kreese asked and the younger nodded with no care in his dark eyes. “It seems you don’t take me seriously.” Kreese had dealt with people not following his instructions, which aggravated him. He leans close to Kwon’s left ear. “Perhaps, I need to show you just how serious I am.” He pulls away and sees a switch in Kwon’s gaze.

A hint of terror.

What Kreese intended is another punishment, except it’s for everyone.

The Cobra Kai sensei makes them carry heavy bags and trudge on the steps in circles. For nearly an hour, the students are starting to get exhausted and their arms are sore. Kreese notices them slowing down.

He smirks, “Are your lungs bursting yet?” The older man asked in a sneering voice.

In unison, “Yes, sensei!”

Kreese chuckles under his breath. “Good. You can thank Mr. Kwon for that.” He remarks at the raven, who glances with annoyance. Da-eun is next to Kreese with her arms crossed. “I do not wish to question your methods, but is it really worth wasting an entire day of training just to punish Kwon?” She is unsure about Kreese’s ways of teaching her students. The female sensei does think Kwon’s actions are nuisances but she wouldn’t let a consequence go on for the rest of the training.

“This is not a punishment. It is a lesson. And they all will learn.” Kreese makes a rebuttal, trying to prove to Da-eun that he’ll make it work for everyone.

While they are deep in their talk, Yoon sees the two mentors not focusing on them. He takes the opportunity to confront Kwon. He shifts to face the troublemaker. “We’re tired of your disrespect.” He gives him a frown. Kwon rolled his eyes. “You want my respect? Earn it.” He swears to god if Yoon just wants to mess with him, he will make a comeback.

Yoon sighs, “We are here to train. I will teach you to keep your mouth shut.” He can throw a fist to Kwon’s face without remorse. He then peeks over his rival’s shoulder to see Jung putting down his bags. A light bulb lights up.

Kwon laughs scornfully at Yoon’s threat. “I have nothing to learn from you.” He drags his words just to irritate the geum baeji. Yoon raises his brows and goes closer to him. “Oh. Have it your way.” He states lowly and knocks Kwon to the ground by whacking him with his giant bags.

The disobedient student groans when his body hits the stone steps.

Both Kreese and Da-eun heard the loud thud and turned their attention back to the class. Kreese tells everyone, “That’s enough for today. Come back tomorrow at sunrise.” He decides to end class because it’s going to take more time than he expected to run this dojang.

Kwon put a hand behind his head to check if he was bleeding. Grateful that he wasn’t hurt, but displeased that he was finishing his day rough. Kwon slams his fist on the ground.

His anger just keeps fuming inside him and he knows he can’t let it out.

back to masterlist

#cobra kai #cobra kai fanfiction #cobra kai fic #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai kwon #kwon cobra kai #kwon jae sung #cobra kai kwon jae sung #kwon jae sung cobra kai #kwon x reader #kwon jae sung x reader

81 notes · View notes

dpimagines · 4 months ago

Text

Hot Date (Blind Date pt. 2)

First and foremost, I want to thank everyone for the amazing show of support for Blind Date! I've never received so much support and appreciation for a fic, EVER! Words cannot express how grateful I am.

SYNOPSIS: Your second date with Wade went well, so now it's time for the third. (And what could be considered the fourth.)

WARNINGS: Smut, reader has been cheated on in the past, everything else is standard Deadpool antics.

Your second date went just as well as the first — most of the words you asked for him to provide were swear words, hilariously enough. It’s not that you’ve never heard them before, though. You lose words if you haven’t heard them in a while, not to mention how loudly curses are often said.

Now, it’s time for date number three, known in popular culture as the make-or-break date: you’ll agree (or disagree) to be exclusive, it’s socially acceptable to start having sex, all that fun (terrifying) stuff. You’ve had some casual coffee and lunch hangouts between your second date and now, but tonight will be your third official date.

He doesn’t have any expectations, of course. He could tell from what you said on the first date that you’ve been hurt in the past.

Who could bring themselves to hurt you? Wade thinks as he daydreams about your shy smile, your variety of laughters to offer him, your soft cardigans and sweaters, the silly faces you make at babies in public, and the sharp glares you give strangers when they stare at him for too long (oh, and the ones he gives them when he catches them staring at you.)

He even finds his thoughts wandering to the way you speak to him — sure, you can’t pick the tones of the words, but your choice of them is all yours. You’re kind, clever, and honest in your words, in everything you do.

Oh, shit, he realizes, his stomach dropping. I’m in love.

You’d insisted on planning your date this time around, since he’d planned the previous two. You told him you’d be having a picnic and to make sure he dressed warm since fall is on its way and the nights are growing colder. He assured you that his healing factor made him run hot, but you insisted that he at least bring a jacket.

He texts you, confirming you’re still on for dinner. You reply positively, but reading your text only has him missing your eclectic voice, or, rather, voices. Over the past few weeks, more and more of your words have been taken from him, but he still loves to hear the random country or British accent, the occasional shout…

Your suggestive exclamations have completely faded from your vocabulary, interestingly enough. Wade may be softening up a little due to his relationship with you, but his more perverted side can’t help but wonder if it’s because you’ve started to prefer your imagination over what videos on the internet have to offer. Do you think about him? He definitely thinks about you, especially his hypothesis on the way you’d sound. Low, masculine grunts shifting to high-pitched, over the top whines and back, all for him.

Someone smacks him upside the head.

“You’re daydreaming again. Why don’t you just go see her? She’s just as sickeningly obsessed with you,” Ellie complains, coming around the couch and plunking down on the opposite end.

“Really?” he wonders. You’re super nice, sure, and you’ve agreed to continue seeing him despite, well, everything about him, but…

She rolls her eyes, smacking her gum.

“Dude, yes. It’s annoying. She’s working right now, but I bet she’d appreciate the company. You remember where her office is, don’t you?”

Wade nods, getting up and taking off towards it. He has to keep himself from running, he’s so giddy.

He knocks on your office door.

“Just a minute,” you reply from inside.

You open it, smiling once you realize who’s come to visit.

“Hi, Wade,” you greet him.

“Who’s that?” he asks. The voice with which you said his name is entirely unfamiliar.

“Oh, I’ve been experimenting with AI voices,” you explain. “I figured it’d be WEIRD for you to keep hearing Ellie and Yukio say your name when it’s me.”

“A little weird, yeah, but it doesn’t bother me too much.”

You turn a little pink, your smile widening awkwardly.

“Oh, you meant-! Yeah, no, that’d be kind of uncomfortable. I appreciate the effort. Sorry to bug you like this, I- Well, speaking of Ellie, she caught me daydreaming about you and told me I should just come see you.”

“Remind me to thank her later,” you reply. “It’s nice to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you, too, I mean, of course it is, or I wouldn’t have come, well, um…” He’s gotten better about talking around you, but he still trips all over his words. “Yeah. What are you up to?”

“I’ve actually had some down time today, so I’ve been working on-” You stop, grimacing as your happy blush deepens to an embarrassed one. You’ve lost the words.

“Wanna show me?” he asks, grateful for the excuse to learn more about what you do. You nod, leading him to your desk. You sit down in the office chair and roll over, leaving him room to stand beside you. He looks back and forth between your monitors – on the one off to the side, a video of one of the Xavier’s School classrooms with subtitles by you; on the center monitor, a document with notes and practice questions.

“A study guide,” he realizes, reading the title of the document.

“Yes, a study guide,” you repeat. “Thank you. I noticed a lot of the students struggle when school starts up again, so I thought I’d take the time to put one together for the classes that don’t already have one.”

“That’s so awesome! Seems like you’re pretty busy, though. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree.

And later, you do. Wade wanders around the courtyard looking for you, finding you sitting on a blanket with electric tealights spread all over it. The sun is just barely starting to set, but the extra light is nice nonetheless, not to mention how adorably romantic it all is.

He jogs over to you, sitting next to you and finally taking in what you’ve put together. It has to be every kind of cheese known to mankind, like, eight different kinds of deli meat, and an insane amount of Club crackers, not to mention the strands of juicy green grapes curled in the corners, avocado slices, and even a pomegranate!

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit much,” you tell him. “I was inspired by our conversation the other day about charcuterie boards and how we wish we could just eat them as meals. I also remembered what you said about your healing factor and how hungry it makes you.”

“No, no, this is perfect,” he breathes. No one’s ever done something so nice for him before. “Uh, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

Your face goes pale, eyes widening. You’re bracing yourself for something, but what? Oh, no. You think this is going in the exact opposite direction from where it is.

“No, it’s good, I mean, maybe. I just wanted to know if you were cool with the idea of us being exclusive. Y’know, not seeing other people? Going steady?” His elaborations get weaker as you stare at him, still wide-eyed. You lips part, and you…

You cackle wildly, gasping for air. You try to stifle it, holding onto his shoulder as the laughter completely overtakes you. Is the idea of being with him so humorous to you?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say once your hysterics wind down. “Wade, do you really think I’d be seeing anyone else?”

“Well, you’re very pretty… And nice… And funny…” he explains. “Why wouldn’t you be?”

“Well, one: I really like you. I’ve never felt so strongly about someone before. Two: you are the only one interested in me.”

“I just can’t believe that. Either thing,” he replies.

“You better believe it, because my answer is yes, Wade, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Awesome, that’s… Awesome. Cool,” he stumbles over his words. He wants to say more, but you’re smiling so widely that he’s concerned for your cheek muscles. You’re even more beautiful to him when you’re happy. It puts a lump in his throat. How can you possibly be interested in him? You’re not just devastatingly beautiful, you’re a good person. He tries to be, but he feels like the scum of the earth next to you.

“I’m starving, let’s eat!” you playfully scold him, gesturing to the board. He takes in the platter once more, and finds his eyes watering at the amount of thought you must’ve put into this. “Well, you can’t eat with that thing on. Come on, it’s just us, and…” You trail off.

“Need help?” he offers. You shake your head.

“Just feeling shy,” you admit.

“No need to be shy around me, I’ve seen and heard it all,” he assures you.

“I guess that’s part of the reason why. I can’t say the same,” you reply, your cheeks turning a little pink as your smile becomes sheepish.

Wade finally takes his mask off, figuring it’s an equivalent exchange for your show of vulnerability. You grin, scooping some brie onto a cracker before adding a chunk of turkey and passing it to him. He gratefully accepts it, pulling you closer to him and pressing a kiss to your temple. He leaves his arm around you, and you adjust your posture, getting comfortable in your place by his side. You put together a cracker of your own.

The two of you go on like that for a while, creating combinations of cheese and meat on crackers, some bordering on sacrilege, before he finally finds his words again. He always seems to be at a loss for words when faced with you.

“I don’t mind, y’know,” he starts. “I mean, that you haven’t been in a lot of relationships and all that entrails. Sorry, I meant entails. I usually talk more about entrails.”

You giggle.

“Are you sure? I just don’t want you to be bored,” you reply. “You’ve had a very exciting life so far. I like the simple things… Like picnics at sunset.”

“I’m learning to appreciate them a lot more. Don’t get me wrong, there’s definitely going to come a day when I drag you onto a beach vacation, or to an even swankier restaurant than De Luca, or whatever… But I like this, too. I like it a lot.” And I love you, he thinks. It’s way too soon to be saying something like that, isn’t it? “Besides, exciting doesn’t always mean fun. When we’re together, I have fun.”

“Me, too,” you agree bashfully. “What I was wanting to say before was that I think you’re beautiful. I like your face and your hands.”

“Kinda specific,” he remarks, trying to avoid the compliment.

“They’re all I’ve seen. Well, other than your voice. I like that, too.”

“It sounds better coming from you,” he deflects once more, but you don’t fight him this time, instead blushing. “I like your voice. I know you don’t feel like it’s yours, but it is to me. The way you speak tells part of your story, just like an accent does.” He’s tempted to admit hearing your words in his voice satisfies his possessive streak, but despite how cute you are when you’re nervous, he doesn’t want to frighten you.

When you don’t respond, he’s worried he’s somehow done it anyway. He looks up from the platter to see your hand clamped over your mouth, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“Fuck, Y/N, I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m so-”

You shake your head fervently.

“That’s the nicest thing someone’s ever said to me about my voice,” you clarify, sniffling as you awkwardly chuckle, trying to laugh it off. “I’m sorry for getting emotional.”

“Never be sorry for that,” he insists, squeezing you closer to him. “The only thing I dislike about what you just said is that no one’s ever said something so nice to you about one of the things that makes you… You. I love you, so that really bothers me.”

Your mouth falls open, and once he realizes what he said, he wants to stick his foot in his.

“I’m-”

“I love you, too,” you tell him. It’s all in his voice.

Wade can’t help but kiss you. When it comes to you, he normally tries to be a gentleman and ask first, but the adoration in your eyes, the red tint to your cheeks, the hint of a smile on your parted lips… It’s all too much. You kiss him back just as eagerly, your lips moving against each other until you’re on your back with him slotted between your legs. You cling to him for dear life, your hands clutching his hoodie like if you let go he’ll float away.

He can’t believe how good your body feels against his, his hands laced in your hair as your chests press together like your hearts are trying to touch each other.

The two of you break for air, both with awestruck smiles and flushed faces.

“Do you… Want some help with that?” you ask, face turning redder. He scrambles to sit up, suddenly aware of his pre-dick-ament. You sit up, too, though much more gracefully.

“Have you ever..? Sorry, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable. I just want to do right by you.”

“Fair enough… I have, but only once. It didn’t go well. After that, it was just-” You pause, but he doesn’t offer to help this time, not wanting to rush you. You blow air out of your mouth. “Until I gained some self-respect and broke up with him.”

His jaw drops.

“Well, that’s not entirely true. He cheated on me and then I dumped him.”

“Someone cheated on you?! I guess what they say is true, then – it doesn’t matter how gorgeous you are or what all you do for somebody, if they’re a cheating piece of shit, they’re a cheating piece of shit.”

Your smile is bittersweet as you respond:

“At least I know I’m good at-” You blow air out of your mouth again. “Even if I don’t have practice with other things.”

“I believe you, but I’m not taking you up on it this time around. First time’s definitely going to be all about you. You deserve it,” Wade informs you. “And, uh, I think I want to wait a little longer before that,” he adds, surprising even himself. “Not that you’re not totally hot – I really like you and Little Wade does, too, but…”

“You don’t have to give me a reason. We should wait until we’re both ready,” you assure him, putting a comforting hand on his knee. He kisses you again, more chastely this time.

“Thanks,” he says.

“I’d like some advanced notice, anyways, so I can make sure I’m adequately stocked,” you reply– flirtatiously, but in an intentionally goofy way based on the way your eyebrows waggle –tapping on your neck in the general area of your vocal cords. He can’t help but laugh at that, and you join in, making his volume double.

“Don’t worry about that. I mean, if it’d make you more comfortable, go for it, but… I don’t need you to do that, seriously,” he insists.

“Well, I’d rather not wail just because you kissed my neck and that’s the closest thing I have to an appropriate sound.”

“Fair enough,” he concedes. “Now, let’s polish off the rest of this charcuterie board.”

“I can’t eat another bite. Have at it, I’ll just cuddle with you if that’s okay.”

“More than,” he assures you. You lean on his shoulder as he finishes it off. He babbles throughout, but eventually your lack of response becomes concerning.

Wade turns his head to find that you’ve fallen asleep. He’d sit perfectly still all night just to make sure that you weren’t disturbed, but you had a point earlier. It’s pretty chilly, you could get sick if you slept out here without anything but your jeans and sweater to keep you warm.

“Y/N,” he hums, stroking your face. You stir, face scrunching in distaste for being awoken. He giggles. “It’s time to head back in, cutie.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” you groggily grumble, though your tone doesn’t reflect that, reaching for the basket as you sit up.

“I got it,” he says, gently batting your hand away. “Go on up to your room, I’ll meet you there once I’ve got this picked up.”

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“Yeah, hon, I’ve got it.”

You get up from the blanket, ambling back to the house sleepily. Wade tosses the grape stems to the treeline hoping some bird or something will enjoy it before he pushes the board off of your picnic blanket. He folds said blanket, tucking it into its matching basket. He carries both the board and the basket back to the house, eventually catching up with you due to your slow pace.

You open your door, and he follows you in.

“Where do you want them?” he asks, looking around. Your room is cluttered, but not necessarily dirty or messy, just filled with things: pictures, curios, crystals, dried flowers… Pretty things. Fitting, he supposes, because it’s your room.

“Where ever is fine. I’ll deal with it in the morning,” you answer. “Thank you.”

“Goodnight, Y/N. Thanks for dinner, it was great.”

“You don’t have to go. Just because we’re not sleeping together doesn’t mean we can’t sleep together,” you offer. “It’s late.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” he says, kicking himself for giving you an out and appreciating himself for it at the same time.

“Very sure,” you assure him. “I have some- Some tee shirts a man can wear.”

“Men’s?” he offers. You nod gratefully.

“It’s what I usually wear to bed,” you explain, tossing him one before pulling another out of your dresser, shucking your pants and taking off your sweater while still turned around. Wade yelps, turning around himself. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” you remind him. He swiftly gets into the tee shirt you offered him, feeling the heat in his cheeks. Even your back is pretty, goddamn it.

“Haven’t seen you,” he says as he turns around, eyes still downcast as he joins you under the covers.

“I didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal for you, I’m sorry.”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier when I said I love you?” he half-jokes.

“Yeah, I did, which is why I’m insisting on cuddling,” you declare. “I love you, too, and I want cuddles in exchange for it.”

“Is that so? I like sleepy you. She’s demanding, I’m into it.”

“Oh!” you squeak. “Not too demanding, I hope.”

“Not even a little,” he assures you, pulling you into his arms.

It’s the easiest time he’s had falling asleep in a long time. Possibly ever.

When he wakes, you’re still beside him, but you hover, propped on your arm as you gaze at him with downright eerie fascination.

“Your scars move,” you say. “I didn’t notice it before, but it’s faster when you’re sleeping.”

“Yeah, part of the whole cancer constantly fighting itself thing,” he mumbles, sheepish under your scrutiny, no matter how gentle it is. The next thing he’s hyper-aware of is the pain in his groin.

You follow his gaze.

“You weren’t exaggerating,” you remark, a smug, pleased look on your face. “Are you sure you don’t want any help with that? It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“How about tonight?” he offers. This is the second time you’ve offered yourself to him, so he doesn’t want to turn you down. It’s not that he feels pressured, though. Rather, he’s coming to terms with the fact that you really want him like that – not even just that you’re attracted to him, but you trust him that much despite being hurt so badly before in what was clearly a long-term relationship, maybe even your only one. “Is that enough notice?”

“Plenty. It’s a weekend, so I have all day to listen to-”

“Don’t wear yourself or your vibrator out,” Wade cuts you off, excited to inform you: “I happen to think of those as teammates, not competition.”

You smile, blushing.

“Understood.”

“Is it alright if I go ahead and head out? I’m supposed to meet Logan and Laura for breakfast.”

“Of course. What time do you want to meet up later?”

“Do you want to get dinner first?”

“Shit. I’m supposed to have dinner with Ellie and Yukio, Yukio’s dads are in town and- Well, I guess that means I don’t have all day. How about seven, to give me time?”

“Sure, but-”

“I know. I want to, it’ll make me feel better.”

“If you insist. See you later, cutie.”

“Later,” you echo.

Later rolls around and you have your headphones on.

“Fuck me harder,” the voice actress whines.

“Fuck me harder,” you echo, biting your lip at how illicit it sounds. Hopefully he likes it. You practice the little moans and gasps you’ve heard, making sure they sound right and aren’t too different from each other.

There’s a knock at the door. Surely it’s him. You stop the audioporn track, setting your headphones and phone aside. You peek under your skirt at the black lace-trimmed panties you’re wearing. You don’t have much red in your underwear collection, so hopefully he’s happy with the mismatched set you’re wearing, your previously-mentioned black bottoms with a red bralette.

You answer the door.

“Wade,” you say, unable to hold back the grin on your face. He’s quickly become your favorite person with his outrageous sense of humor, his constant stream of new words for you to say– one of your favorites is chucklefuck, you even repeat it to yourself when you’re alone just to make sure you don’t lose it –his textured skin, his radiant smile, and… Oh, crap, he’s been talking, hasn’t he?

“I’m sorry, I got lost in thought. What were you saying?” you ask, cringing at yourself.

“I was just saying that if you’re starting to psych yourself out, we don’t have to do this. Guessing I was right.”

“Not at all. I really want you,” the last bit comes out as a moan, and you remember the exact context in which you heard it. Maybe Brat Begs for Her Master’s Cock wasn’t a good decision, it was especially wordy – you’re probably going to have to sort that out of your vocabulary for the next week. You just wanted to make sure there was enough kink in your repertoire – Wade’s reputation precedes him.

“Well, if you’re sure… Let’s get to it, I guess.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, concerned. He nods, and you pull him into the room, closing and locking the door behind him. “It’s been a while, how exactly do we get started?”

“Hm, a little something like this,” he hums fondly before pressing his lips to yours. You love the way he kisses, it’s so overpowering that it feels like nothing else exists, just him and you. You melt in his hands, needy little whimpers forcing their way out of you as they caress your jaw before wandering down to your waist, a few teasing, curious touches along the way driving you wild.

His lips trail down to your neck and you gasp as his tongue swirls against your skin.

��Not too long,” you warn him, the last word in breathless excitement.

“Of course,” he assures you. “Can’t have a few hickeys ruining your reputation.”

You nod, and he places his next kiss in the curve between your neck and shoulder. He carefully introduces his teeth to the equation and your knees almost give out as a high-pitched whine leaves your lips. You clutch his back for purchase, and he leads you backwards into the bed, the two of you laying there together like you were yesterday evening. He’s right there between your legs and you can feel his excitement growing as you paw at him, needing to be even closer than you already are.

He unbuttons one button of your blouse before looking to you for permission to continue.

“Yes,” you agree, and despite the tone itself being over-the-top, he only smiles as he reveals your body to him.

“Red,” he murmurs. “Just for me?”

“Just for you,” you concur, only the last word being a moan due to his interference. “You were supposed to let me say that,” you half-heartedly complain. He chuckles.

“I kinda like it more when it’s in my voice. Reminds me that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you agree. “I’m all yours.”

“You spoil me,” he replies fondly before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your breast. He takes his time, not even pushing one of the thin cups aside until you’re whining and rocking against him. He flicks his tongue against your nipple and the sensation sends sparks through you. You arch into his mouth with the same high-pitched moan as before. He chuckles, switching to the other.

You’re already shaking and you have no doubt that you’re embarrassingly wet. Hell, even last night’s makeout session, which hardly qualified as one, left your underwear damp. He urges you up, helping you out of your shirt. He goes to take off your bra, but you stop him.

“You wanna stop?” he asks, his hand quickly making its way to cup your face comfortingly.

You shake your head, nudging him off of you so you can take off your skirt.

“Just for me?” he asks again, looking pleasantly surprised.

“Just for you,” you repeat.

“You’re so thoughtful. It’s one of the things I love most about you,” he informs you.

“You can take it off now. Or them, whatever you choose.”

He snickers.

“Let’s start with the bra for now,” he decides, reaching behind you for the clasp. He fumbles around, looking for it for a bit until you’re both laughing. You pull the bralette over your head for him. It then hits you then that you’re mostly naked and he’s mostly clothed. You pout, batting your eyelashes as you look him up and down.

He gets the message and huffs out another laugh, getting off the bed to take off his shirt and jeans.

Holy fuck, he’s ripped. If you weren’t bright red before, you are now. You should’ve expected it, what with his metabolism and super-strength and all that, but… Wow!

“That bad, huh? I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“No,” you quickly disagree. “You look amazing.”

“You, too,” he replies, his eyes lighting up at the erotic tone of your last spoken word.

“Come back,” you urge him. It’s getting to the point where every other word or so is a moan. He doesn’t seem to mind, if anything, he likes it.

“Say it again. ‘Come.’”

“Come,” you reply, unamused. “You forgot the rules, didn’t you?”

“Oops,” he says with a giggle. “That’s alright. ‘Cause the next time you say that word, it’s gonna be because of me. It being in my voice will only be a reminder of that fact.”

You shudder, leaning back and opening your legs up a little more as a reminder that he should really rejoin you in bed right now. His nose twitches and his eyebrows furrow.

“Wade?”

“I have… An enhanced sense of smell.”

“Oh, is it… bad? I mean, I took a shower and drank water and all that, but-”

“No, baby, you smell so good, just… Really strong, like...” He presses his hand to your most private place and you can’t help but squeak – between everything he’s said and done, the content you were consuming before his arrival, and how long it’s been… You’re unbelievably sensitive. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me?”

“What?” you ask.

“You’re so… I like foreplay, sure, and you deserve it, but aren’t you getting frustrated? If you need me, you should tell me.”

Once you get over your breathlessness at the last thing he said, you explain yourself:

“I like what we’re doing. Why would I stop you?”

“Aren’t you aching down here?” he wonders, pressing his hand firmer against you for emphasis.

“Oh, fuck, yes,” you tell him, a little embarrassed at the variation in your moans.

He smiles, though, caressing your thighs in a teasingly gentle way.

“Then maybe I should go ahead and show you the real reason they call me the Merc with a Mouth. You’re not the only one who knows how to give a blowy.”

He hooks his fingers in your panties and drags them down your legs with your attempted assistance as you try to move them in helpful ways. He props your legs open before finally rejoining you in bed, this time with his mouth… Oh, his mouth, it’s…

A symphony of pleasured sounds flows out of you, some cheap and overexaggerated and some a little more realistic.

“Good girl, tell me how much you like it,” he says, before returning his lips and tongue to you just as swiftly as they left.

“I fucking love it,” you reply, gasping for air. “No one’s ever done this to me before.”

He’s got his face buried between your thighs, moaning and groaning as he tastes you. When your eyes aren’t clenched shut from pleasure, you see him grinding his hips into the comforter for friction. Holy shit, he really likes this, doesn’t he?

Your legs are trembling uncontrollably as fire courses through your veins and you feel yourself getting higher and higher.

“I’m close, Wade, I’m gonna- Gonna come,” you tell him. He holds onto your thighs, keeping you right in place as you unravel, forcing you to take what he’s giving you. The sounds you’re making are chaos, you think, but you realize as you come down that that’s what he thrives on.

“It’s too much,” you whine as you start to get overstimulated, when it feels so good it hurts. He hesitantly pulls away, panting a little himself.

“How was that?” he asks.

“Amazing. Couldn’t- You- Tell?”

He grins.

“Wanna keep going?”

“Fuck me,” you implore him. “Please.”

“Yes, ma’am! Let me see here…” he fishes in the pockets of his discarded jeans, finding a condom. He holds it up, and like a magic trick, the interconnected packets fall down, leaving you both with a whole ribbon of them. After tearing off one, he tosses the others onto the bed beside you. “I doubt we’ll go through all those tonight, but I’d appreciate it if you kept the rest in the nightstand.”

You nod, still catching your breath from the previous round as he rolls it on.

“I’m gonna use my fingers first,” he informs you. You nod, your breathlessness now in anticipation of what he’ll do next. He gently pushes one inside you. It feels bigger than it really is as he carefully slides it in and out before curling it right against-

He smiles in response to your pleasured exclamation.

“You sound so pretty, honey,” he hums, “Ready for another?”

“Yeah,” you agree. He repeats the same motions as before but with a second finger. “Holy fucking shit, so good.”

“We’re barely getting started,” he reminds you, but he doesn’t seem displeased with your eager sounds as he adds a third finger into the mix.

“So full,” you moan. “I don’t know if I can take it.”

“You know just what to say, don’t you, baby? I know you can take it, though. You're such a good girl, aren’t you?”

“I try,” you reply.

“You succeed,” he confirms. “Do you still want-”

“Yes, please, I’m ready,” you cut him off, starting to get impatient. His fingers feel absolutely incredible, but you want more, you want all of him. You’ve never been so greedy before, but you just can’t help it. Just as you're his, he’s yours. No one’s ever really been yours before and you want to experience it for all that it's worth.

“Alrighty, then. You should be careful, though — I’m trying to be all nice and gentlemanly and all that, but if you keep looking at me like that I might lose control.”

“Would that really be such a bad thing?” you half-flirt, half-wonder, propping yourself up to look at him once he removes his fingers from you. He’d never hurt you in a way that you didn’t want him to, not intentionally. Would it really be so bad for him to give in to his baser urges and just pound you until you cry and then some? You don’t think so.

“Oh, I get it, you’ve been holding out on me. I guess I should’ve known, the geeky types are always total freaks in the sheets,” he remarks.

“I wanted to be gentle with you, too,” you explain. “I know you’re just as nervous as I am, just for different reasons.”

“Not that different,” he admits. “Are you really sure?”

“Mhm,” you hum, trying to meet his downcast eyes. “I want you. Really… I’ve really never felt this way before.”

“Me, either. Don’t wanna fuck it up.”

“Then fuck me instead,” you tease, knowing he doesn’t like to linger on the deeper subjects for too long.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he agrees with a smile, lining himself up with your entrance. You’re really glad he used his fingers first, because there’s no way his member would even be close to fitting inside you if he hadn’t. He eases in, checking every inch or so to make sure you’re still comfortable.

You're still propped up on your hands, your eyes flicking between his face and his dick as it sinks further and further into you. You lift one hand and bring his forehead to yours, your labored breaths intermingling as he enters you. You keep your hand on the back of his neck, stroking him — you’re not sure if the motion is supposed to comfort you or him, but it feels good.

“Is it okay for me to move?”

You nod into him, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth. It feels so good to connect with someone like this, to connect with him like this.

He slides back and forth, it’s mind-boggling to watch something so large disappear into you.

“You feel so good, baby, fuck,” he groans.

“You feel so good,” you echo, eyes scrunching shut as he picks up the pace. Your other hand rises from the bed and now you’re holding onto him as he thrusts, hitting that amazing place deep inside over and over again. You’re once again making mismatched sounds of ecstasy, his own grunts and groans working their way into your lexicon and making them even more diverse.

He wraps an arm around you, helping you to stay balanced.

“Touch yourself for me, sweetheart, I wanna feel you like that, please, please make yourself come all over my cock,” he nearly begs.

“Yes, sir.” You remove your hand from where it was bracing on his neck, leaving the other draped around his shoulders as you start to stroke your clit.

“Oh, fuck, shit, you-“ You feel him twitch inside of you. “Just a second, I… Oh, god.”

“You weren’t kidding,” you reply as he carefully pulls out, tying off and disposing of the condom before getting another one ready.

“Honestly, I was, but- I mean, the refractory period is legit. I am so sorry, seriously, you- You just pushed a button that hasn’t been pushed in a while, goddamn, I- Say it again, please, if- If it’s not too much to-”

“Sir,” you repeat, grateful that he remembered the rules this time so you can elicit the right response from him.

“There we go. Right as rain,” he says, jostling his re-hardened member in his hand comedically before rolling on a new condom. “Still-”

“Please,” you cut him off. “Please fuck me, Wade.” It’s all in his voice. You love the sound of his voice, but damn him for talking so much after you put all that effort into making sure you had a good catalogue for tonight!

He cups your face and kisses you once again before entering you once more. You touch yourself as he thrusts in and out of you, no longer able to watch as your eyes clench shut — it’s everything you need and it’s too much. Fuck, it’s too much, you feel like he’s gonna break you, or you’re gonna break yourself.

“That’s my good girl, you feel even better when you do that, squeezing around me just right,” he pants, continuing his erotic rambling. Every word gets you closer, even the ones you can’t process due to just how good this feels.

“It’s- I’m- Come, gonna come again, oh, fuck, ah, please, Wade…” Your voice is steadily becoming more from him than what you watched earlier, but that only increases his fervor.

“Love it when you talk in my voice, love the way you love me,” he replies, just as locked-in. That’s how he sees it? It almost brings you to tears in the best way, you’re so touched.

“Oh, god,” you murmur, just as he did before, but you really wanna scream it as you claw his back, desperate to cling to something physical as you reach the pinnacle of bliss.

He stills as well, pushed as deep inside of you as he can go as you come down. You fall back into the bed, thoroughly worn out.

He pulls out once more, repeating the same actions as earlier when taking care of the condom. He takes the unopened packages from beside you and tucks them into your bedside table.

“Wanna go again?” he offers cheekily.

“We don’t all have healing factors,” you remind him with a sigh. “Fuck, that was… Amazing.”

“Was there anything you didn’t like?” he asks.

“No. What about you?”

“Getting overexcited and- Well, y’know.”

“I thought it was sweet,” you reassure him.

“Anything you liked in particular?”

“What you said about when I talk in your voice,” you admit. “You?”

“I meant it,” he quickly says, like he’s scared you thought it was just pillow talk. “I could list a lot of things that I liked in particular, but I really- I loved it all.”

“Me, too.” you reply. You hold open your arms and he eagerly takes his place there.

The two of you take a while to fall asleep, giddiness and excitement still buzzing in the air at your newfound love, but eventually you make it there.

#deadpool x reader #wade wilson x reader #deadpool fanfiction #deadpool imagine #wade wilson imagine #marvel imagine #x men imagine #x-men fanfiction #deadpool smut #wade wilson x you #wade wilson smut #deadpool x you

110 notes · View notes

rosegoldenatlas · 2 months ago

Text

Fuck you *analyzes Stan and Ford even though everyone has done it at this point*

Friendly reminder that Stan is literally a traumatized genius. Like yeah Ford may have been good at science in school and did some nice notes on weird shit he saw but to build his portal he needed to get tricked by a demon whom he knew was super dangerous.

Meanwhile Stan taught himself how to build it ALONE in just 30 years when before he barley got by in school and he only saw A THIRD of the blueprints throughout most of building it. Stan was kicked out of his house due to an actual accident and due to that has some clear issues that lead him to a life of scams and crimes because he wanted to prove that he wasn't a failure. He went to jail in 3 countries and has successfully conned SO MANY PEOPLE. He ran a successful business of only fakes and cons for 30 years, hasn't paid taxes in who knows when maybe he never has paid taxes. He literally had EVERY ONE OF HIS CRIMES LISTED ON PUBLIC TELEVISION AND STILL GOT AWAY WITH IT. Also he is ballsy as shit. Like this man hasn't feared death in decades I'm pretty sure. Even though he has clear issues he still is able to be a good person (not legally but yk what I mean). He had been betrayed by Ford and his life was ruined since highschool due to that and his first instinct after hearing Ford call for help (just like he did when he was younger and being kicked out) is not to pull the curtains and look away but to go all the way Oregon and ask what he needed help with, saying that he will understand what's going on, offering support- and then is tossed aside AGAIN. He finds out that even though he made that mistake years an years ago Ford has been relatively well off and has a house and the money to build this giant machine. While Fords taking a blind eye to Stan getting kicked out ruined his entire life and shoved him directly into a life of crime without much of a choice.

Of Course he bitter. He was betrayed twice! So he gets into a fight and gets angry and makes his second mistake, pushing Ford. He didn't mean to do it. He didn't know how it worked but it happened. So he immediately tries to fix his mistake. This time he has to do it right. So he teaches himself Advanced science only learnt by one person from an inter dimensional chaos demon well enough to build the machine using a third of the blueprints and sheer force of will.

When he finally gets Ford back after 30 years he's expecting a thank you and being allowed to keep the shack that he's had longer than Ford at this point. Instead he gets a punch to the face and is being told off. Being told off by doing exactly as he was told 'just do something!' Ford had said before. And now he was being told that he shouldn't have? After 30 years of work? Yeah I'd be pissed too. But Stan holds it together for the twins.

When weirdmageddon happens he has one request, say thank you. He doesn't even care if its an actual thank you any more. He just asks for it and starts the ritual. He's angry and upset and he's always being cast aside as the dumb sibling and he thought he was away from that but Ford ruined it and Dipper was definitely thinking that Stan was the dumb one. But Stan mumbles on last comment and still does the ritual. And then- grammar Stanley. Its like spitting in has face and saying 'even after all of this, your still the dumb one, still the screw up. Can't even keep up with basic grammar and always angry always the dumb, strong one'. But now he's not even stronger because of Fords alien space dimension hopping trip. Now he's just the dumb one who cheats his way through life because he can't do anything the right way. Its a punch to the gut that after all he had done he got a half assed 'thank you Stanley' and then told in fewer, more simple words 'you're still the screw up of the family'. Yeah not the best time to be pissed but I completely agree with Stan when he lashes out and attacks Ford.

Then even after all of that he still says that he wishes Bill would go in his head instead. He says that he agrees that he's got nothing up there. And Ford doesn't disagree. He didn't comfort him. He just goes 'oh yeah but he doesn't want your stupid thoughts he wants mine'. And I don't care what anyone says, it was Stans idea to swap clothes with Ford. Stan is the con guy. He get his memory wiped.

In the last few minutes while everyone is getting their endings, Ford says that he wants to make the Stan o' War 2 and go off and sail. Its not exactly what Stan wants, he wasn't treasure hunting, of course he does. But anomaly hunting is all he knows he can get at this point. So he goes. He never gets told the things he needs to be told like 'you're not a screw up' or 'you're not stupid Stanley' he gets one thing. He gets 'you're our hero Stanley'. Which wow. Stanley gets to be the one thing he never got. He didn't have anyone backing him. He had Soos eventually, but Soos was always like a kid to him (hell yeah Stan adopt Soos I think its such a cool idea please). Dipper and Mabel technically have his back but they are literal children who do not need to hear their grunkles trauma more than they already have. Its always just been Stan watching out for all of them as best he can. He has Ford at the very end on the boat. But he still has a lot of issues to sort through.

While Ford, we don't have much on Ford. He isn't in the series a bunch and I haven't been able to get my hands on the book of bill yet, even then I don't know how much new stuff we learn about Ford other than the confirmation of his indistinct and ambiguous relationship with Bill. (I was right they so fucked). But I will try as hard as I can to sympathise with Fords side of things (I was one a fan of Ford before I started digging into Stans lore more).

In Fords perspective, Stan intentionally ruined his project to keep him in Jersey to finish their boat and treasure hunt. He doesn't believe Stan when he says that it was an accident because it matches up too well. Stan gets kicked out that night, Stan asks for Ford to help, but Stan had always been the stronger one. He would be fine. So he pulls the curtain closed. He goes to a different college than what he wanted to but still earns his degrees and even is able to get his hands on grants that most scientists would kill for. Its enough to build a house and keep him fed and well off for YEARS without a second job and even after all of that he still has enough for his gadgets (not to mention his giant underground lab that must've cost a fortune to build). He makes a friend and they work together trying to learn more about the anomalies. He hits a wall.

He can't find out any more that he already knows. So he summons a demon that he knows is OP as Fuck and can kill him. But the triangle called him smart and is telling him new things. So he listens. He doesn't question what he's building a portal to. He just makes it. Only when his friend gets irreversibly traumatized by what lies on the other side he begins to question, but its too late- he already fucked the triangle and the portal is finished. So he shuts it down and begs for help from the only person he knows would help- Stan. Sure they didn't part on good terms but Stan had always looked out for him.

When Stan arrives he's paranoid, Bill could be anywhere. Bill wants to be on earth. Bill will destroy everything. He shows Stan the portal and hands him the last of his journals he needs to hide. He tells him to sail far away, to keep him and his research safe. Stan is angry with him. Still? After all these years? He hardly remembers that part of the night. He remembered the morning more for obvious reasons. Stan is yelling at him, and for what? That was years ago and the fate of the world is much more important that a family spat.

Stanley takes out a lighter and pulls it to his journal. All of his research could be gone in an instant. Years of work all in a blaze. What if something happened and he needed that information? What then? So they fight and Stanley gets hurt by the hot brand on the side of the metal work table. All of his anger drains in an instant. He didn't mean to hurt Stan. He just- he didn't want all he had left to be destroyed and got angry (parallels, huh). Stan hits him. He's floating. He's going to- he going to go through the portal. He panics and throws the book back mid air 'Stanley do something'. And he goes through.

He spends years in space. We aren't told how it goes explicitly but he gets better at fighting, a lot better so we can assume there was a lot of that. But he remains the same person if a little tougher, there are no major scars or personality changes. So we can assume he is relatively (I use this very loosely) unscarred by this time.

When he's brought back he's still scared, if that's what is on the other side of the portal, what could happen of that came to earth? Stanley took a huge risk. He risked everything for what? Him to come back? That isn't worth it. Stan doesn't understand the risk he took opening that portal on purpose. He fights, he shuts down the portal, he disassembles the portal and catches the rift. Every precaution is taken. Stan doesn't understand what is happening, he doesn't understand the danger they're all in. And he wants to be thanked for it? For putting everyone at risk? Why the hell would he do that.

During weirdmageddon he prepares the circle, everyone is compliant but Stanley. Stanley is being childish. Asking for a thank you of all thing while the world is ending. But he swallows his pride, he is right but that doesn't matter now, not when the world is at stake. 'Fine, Thank you,' he mumbles and they grab hands. He hears Stanley spit out a 'see, between him and me I'm not always the bad twin.' And he had already lost so much today, he falls into an old habit 'between me and him, grammar Stanley.' Then there are hand on his throat, Stanley is shouting at him. He's ruining everything. This was childish! It was one comment! Can he not act like an adult for once in his life?

Bill arrives, their locked up, and Stanley crumples. Blaming himself. Ford says down next to him. He was the idiot who made a deal with Bill in the first place. Its not all Stanley's fault. They pass a flask between them. They toss around last second ideas. None of it would work. And then 'what I he went into my mind, its not good for anything' he laughs, it would never work. 'Its not your mind he wants' he sees something flicker in Stans eyes. An he suggests something, a new scam, a new way to cheat the system. Might as well try it.

It works. He had to erase stans mind but it works. After everything. After all of it. Stan is a hero and he doesn't even know it. They walk back to the trashed shack with tears in their eyes. Mabel is desperately trying everything she can, Dipper is dead silent, Soos is on the verge of a breakdown. He just feels resigned, he's lost a friend to the memory gun before and he's lost Stan before. Maybe he can get through this too.

Stan remembers. Stan remembers and he's back to how it was before, Ford is looking now, he sees the way Stan is clearly posturing for the kids, for everyone really. How had he not noticed before? The way Stanley was speaking and acting, it was kind of like their dad. Tough and stern and impossible to impress. But Stan was that at a level that wasn't suffocating. He was so different from the Stan from their highschool days, and he hadn't even noticed the change until now. It was disturbing how much was different from before that he hadn't even seen because of being in his lab. It felt weird not knowing this Stan. So he made up something on the fly, anomalies in the ocean he said, the Stan o' war version two he offered. The disbelief in Sans voice when he asked if he was actually asking this was saddening.

---+---

Anyways, my real reason for preferring Stan over Ford is this: Stan had a more fleshed out character, he had arcs and he didn't even need a redemption arc. We just needed to know more to see why he was acting the way he did. He isn't a bad person. He's just a person. Yeah he breaks the law but he is a kind guy. He has so many layers and he's much much more that was originally let on. While Ford was shown much less on screen, from what I did see I could tell that he thought he was better than Stan. He puts him down constantly and can't bother to build relationships by reaching out first. Dipper was friends with Ford because Dipper had to reach out again and again. Stan tried reaching out the olive branch to Ford but when it didn't work and he was 'betrayed' twice and insulted a lot. Ford didn't even try to fix this when it is clearly his responsibility to do so. If we had more time after the series showing character growth over time from Ford I might think different but alas.

#character dynamics #character analysis #gravity falls #stan pines #stanley pines #ford pines #stanford pines

59 notes · View notes

psychedelic-ink · 1 year ago

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄

pairing: stripper!jack daniels x f!reader

genre: stripper AU, explicit, minors dni

word count: 8.2k

series summary: frustrated by your everyday life, you seek solace at a male strip club. It's your first time and you're instantly mesmerized by the one that calls himself "Whiskey".

chapter summary: you're still heartbroken but that doesn't stop you from attending your friends' bachelorette party— how were you supposed to know the male stripper that she hired would be the one and only whiskey.

warnings: angst, grief, mention of the loss of a child, enemies to lovers ✨ v i b e s ✨, semi-public sex, angst with happy ending, stripping, one time use of good boy (i was in a mood don't @ me), praise kink, oral (fem receiving), piv

a/n: not gonna lie with the trip I took and my laptop breaking when I returned I feel like I've been working on this chapter for months. Hopefully, it turned out okay! Thank you for all the support you've shown for stripper!jack it was much appreciated and made me so happy to see everyone so enthusiastic 💖

[stripper!jack masterlist]

dividers by @firefly-graphics 💜

Jack has a lot of regrets in his life.

The night is warm, yet his skin is cold like ice. His legs feel shaky, his steps echoing and blending with the stretched-out shadows of the buildings. Cars whizz past him, a couple of cabs as well, but he doesn’t hail any of them. He’d rather complete his walk of shame back to his apartment. It’s only fitting after the stunt he pulled.

He wasn’t expecting you to look at him the same way Vivienne used to. Full of admiration and love. There was a certain blindness to it, like he could do no wrong, but he could. Jack could do many wrongs.

He shakes his head, the yearning in his heart growing with every painful beat. He misses her. His Viv. When Jack thinks of her, he can only remember their last moments together. Her stomach round with his child—a baby boy, he later on learned—her cheeks glowing, her hair in a high messy bun. She kissed him on the cheek that night. Hugging him tight. Maybe she had a feeling. He shouldn’t have let her go.

A car honks as it passes him by, screeching laughter coming from the inside. He glares at the taillights of the car, two red eyes glaring back at him.

With you, Jack thought he just liked the attention. You were shy, clumsy, unfiltered. He could tell what you were thinking just by looking at you. He thought. . . the growing feeling in his stomach would stop if he just slept with you. If he fucked you nice and hard that it would all go away.

But the deed was done, and his feelings remained.

Jack could see how badly he’d hurt you, but he didn’t see any way around it. He had to go. He had to leave. He was a coward and he was afraid. Looking at you, so happy and pliant with his spent dripping down your stomach— he just couldn’t stay. All Jack could see was Viv, her smile before she left to go get the milk he’d forgotten to buy because he had an exhausting night of stripping. It was the day before his last. He was quitting, he’d found a job at the distillery, something more stable he could do for when the baby came. And for her.

He stops and stares.

He feels sick. His mouth floods with saliva and bile, his stomach churns violently, he sees a tree nearby and leans over, emptying everything. His knees shake. While his throat burns and the stench breaks his nose, images of that night come to mind. How he got anxious after the first hour. How he called and called and called. No answer. How the police couldn’t reach him because he was constantly dialing Vivienne’s number. He remembers the way he stuck his bare feet into his boots to go and search for her, only to come face to face with two policemen. The eyes can be quite loud. Or maybe they were always loud for him. His heart sank into his chest. She was gone. His baby boy was gone.

He hurls again, the leaves of the tree creating a symphonic backdrop accompanied by the gentle caress of the wind. He didn’t have anything else in his stomach anymore. Only bile coming out. It tastes like poison.

Jack remains in the same position—half bent over, hand braced against the grooves of the thick tree. His eyes are teary. He thinks it has little to do with his throat burning and everything to do with Vivienne. He misses her. Misses her scent, her feel under his fingertips, kissing her swelled stomach for good luck before starting the day.

He misses all of that, yet, he aches for you. He feels like shit for leaving you like that. Despite all of what he’d said and done, Jack doesn’t want you to hate him.

Slowly, he raises. His grief clouds his vision. He can’t see the mess he made even though he’s staring right at it. Some sensible part of him is hoping no one saw. Or filmed him—a fear he had developed with the increasing popularity of Instagram and TikTok and whatever the fuck is popular now.

His feet start moving again, the sound of his boots clicking against the pavement, but his mind is still at the bottom of the tree. Still lurching over, still vomiting. Thinking of her.

Jack has a lot of regrets in his life. Now he has added another.

You.

Jack is a morning person—normally.

But not today. Not when his head hurts like hell and his muscles ache in such a profound way that no matter how aggressively he gives himself a rub down it doesn’t go away. The sky is clear and he dares to glare at the sun. Staring until his eyes burn, tearing up right before he pulls his gaze away from the fiery orb hovering in space.

He’d very much like to be the one hovering in space right about now.

The club is pretty much empty. A couple of guys sitting here and there sipping their coffee while Vodka—aka Steve—hugs the pool and dips down. Jack is not a fan of the poll. He prefers to sensually dance, he doesn’t like the sudden metallic chill that touches his burning skin during a routine. He heads to the bar where Tequila is restocking the fridge. Your seat is empty. Jack's heart clenches at the sight.

“Hey there old timer,” he greets him. “You know where our firecracker regular is?”

“No,” he grunts, his shoulders raising. “Why the hell would I know?”

Tequila’s sole eyebrow lifts along with the corner of his lip. His eyes soften with amusement, and just by the look, Jack knows he’s seconds to being incredibly, infuriatingly annoyed with the other man. Before Tequila can say anything, he waves him off, heading towards the dressing room. He doesn’t want to talk about it. Even if he did, Tequila would be the last person Jack would want to converse with about such a thing. He’s still feeling guilty about the whole ordeal. His brain screaming at him to give you a call, or write a letter or something apologizing.

Of course, he does none of that.

Instead, he gets ready. His eyes swiftly move over each and every outfit he has. Most of them are cowboy attire. Today he’s not really feeling it. He wants to be someone else and a change in outfit seems like the perfect way to go about it. He quickly tugs off his shirt and kicks off his pants, his chest and legs bare, he looks over the selection of clothes. His fingers graze over a red suit. It’s soft and light under his touch, and to accompany it, he picks a copper and black animal print shirt. It’s way more flashy compared to his usual outfits but he felt like it. He wants to look the opposite of what he’s feeling.

The shirt is smooth like butter, cool against his sweat-slick skin. His only complaint would be the pointy shoes. It always rubs the back of his ankle the wrong way, leaving it hurting and bloody.

Looking into the mirror, he slathers his fingers with a generous amount of hair gel and brushes the soft strands back. They curl slightly at the ends, sticking to his nape. When he’s satisfied, he drags a comb through them, making sure that everything is in place and slicked back.

Just as he’s about to leave, Tequila pops his head through the door. “You have a call on line three.”

“A’right, thanks, Teq.”

The younger man promptly leaves and Jack reaches for the landline. The club is probably the only place where landlines still exist. He takes a seat, his palm flat on his thigh. A small sigh parts his lips, his body already feeling drained. Jack swallows thickly before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hello!” a chipper voice comes through the speakers of the phone. “This is Whiskey, right? My sister is getting married and we’re throwing her a bachelorette party and we wanted a stripper to liven things up a bit.”

Jack smiles despite himself, “Of course, don’t know a better way to get a party goin’. When were you thinkin’ of havin’ it?”

“This Saturday. Is that okay?” the voice suddenly sounds panicked, as if she might’ve been too late in asking. “Also it’s going to be at our house, I can send the address over.”

“Sounds good, sugar,” the pet name tastes like iron in his mouth. He’s not sure why. “Let me give you my cell and you can text me all the details.”

You’re heartbroken, poor beating muscle ripped apart and stomped on while still beating. Yet, the world still makes its lazy routes around the sun. The people around you none the wiser of the knot lodged in your throat, the tears that constantly linger in the corner of your eyes, burning.

Jack certainly left his ever-lasting impression on you. You’re not sure what you could’ve done for a different outcome. He was so soft with you, so tender— then the switch had been flipped. His rage twisted at his lips, swirled in his eyes, and just like that he was gone.

You didn’t tell anyone about it. Just the thought of explaining everything exhausted you. Besides, you didn’t want to listen to your friends bad-mouthing him. You were protective of him. You held on to the hope that there was an explanation there. A reason that would soften your heart and everything would work out.

But days passed. You didn’t visit the club even though you missed Tequila and you never heard from Jack.

Your anger festered like an irritated wound. The hurt, the sadness, all of it shifted into an emotion that was easier to handle, an emotion that was blinding and made you think of little else. If the world was adamant about moving forward, so would you.

Your friend, Betty, was getting married in about a month and luckily, she was dead set on having the most unhinged bachelorette party ever. You’d make the most of it, promising yourself it would be the perfect distraction.

The wind blows warm, the trees that surround your friend's house dancing wildly as muffled music echoes into the blue-purple sky. You feel the breeze playing with the ends of your dress, lifting and teasing the fabric up your legs. You suck a sharp breath. Your heart beating in your throat ready to jump out of the bone and skin. Now that you’re here, staring at the imposing architecture —you often forgot that Betty was much more comfortable than you— all your bravado that built in your mind is dwindling. You take a step, then another. It will be okay. You’ll have a good time with your friends and sleep soundly tonight with alcohol lingering in your veins.

You wish, for once, things would go as planned.

“You called for a stripper?”

In a weak attempt to hide the very obvious tremble in your voice, you swallow, again and again. Betty is absolutely radiant, her shapely brows coming together while giving you a startled look. She shrugs. “I mean. . . It’s a bachelorette party, of course, we hired a stripper. Why the big reaction?” Before you can answer she lets out a overexaggerated gasp and brings her hang to her chest. “Have you been a prude all this time baby?!”

You snort at the question and shake your head, “No you idiot. I just. . . It’s okay, it’s fine. I just didn’t know.”

“You’ve been so secretive lately,” she remarks, sucking the cherry of her cocktail between her lips. It reminds you of Jack, a longing tingling at your skin. She chews on the juicy fruit and just as you’re thinking of an excuse to get out of this cross interrogation, her eyes snap to something behind you. Her eyes sparkle, a wide grin stretching across her face. “Wow. . . “ she says wistfully.

You turn to see what got her so worked up, your eyes grow wide and you swear—swear your heart stops beating at that very moment.

It’s Jack.

Fucking hell.

Everything comes rushing back. Every ounce of emotion you tried so hard to shove deep inside bursting from every orifice. Your eyes sting, the know in your throat larger than ever. He hasn’t noticed you yet, too busy talking to Rachel, Betty’s sister, and maid of honor. You’re shaking like a chihuahua. What the hell is he doing here and what the hell are you supposed to do about it

“Whatever it is that’s going in with you, I’m sure a dance from that cowboy will certainly help,” Betty says, unaware that all you want is for the ground to swallow you whole.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, an awkward chuckle escaping your lips. “I’ll be right back.”

Before Betty can say anything, and before Jack spots you, you disappear between the halls. Your steps echo against the smooth marble. You’re not sure what your plan is since the bathroom was in the opposite direction of where you stormed off to. Some part of you wants to leave, perhaps run away screaming, but you know you won’t be doing that. It’s Betty’s night. And even though she has a habit of peeving you, you love her and want to be with her on her special night. Besides, she seemed really excited when she saw Jack. You can’t blame her, who wouldn’t be?

He was as handsome as ever. His cowboy hat snug atop his head, shirt hugging his biceps as he strutted inside. You knew that walk. It was his stripper walk, he told you about it once, how he would move differently even when doing something as mundane as drinking water, or walking.

Your steps come to a halt, the music of the party nothing but muffled, silent melodies now. You want to stay but you’re not sure how you’ll react seeing him dancing again. Memories come flooding back, reminding you of the love and hurt you felt in the short time that you got to know him. You wonder what his reaction would be like when he inevitably sees you. Would he act like the two you never met? Or would he just tilt his hat and greet you as if you were neighbors that barely talked?

No matter his reaction, you have no doubt that it is going to sting.

You take a breath, furrow your brows, and turn on your heel. If anyone should be hiding it should be him, not you. You ignore the quick beat of your heart and head back towards the party.

There’s a stage, and an actual, god damn squeaky clean stage.

You knew that Rachel was going all out with the bachelorette party and you knew Betty and her family were. . . Comfortable, but wasn’t this a bit much?

Seated between Rachel and Betty, both sisters gaze eagerly toward the stage as Jack ascends the stairs and positions himself at the center, his back turned to the audience. You hold your breath. It almost feels like you’re peeping on him. Hopefully, he won’t spot you among the crowd, you don’t want to look like you’re stalking him.

Jack rolls his shoulders and relaxes his neck, tilting his head to one side and then to the other. Betty straightens in her seat, green eyes wide. Finally, he looks up, and with that, the music begins.

Have his performances always been so spiritual? There’s something about the way he moves that is slower compared to his usual routine. He turns and your eyes instantly drop to his crotch, the leather of the belt he’s wearing framing his bulge. You swallow thickly, heat pooling under your cheeks. Your thighs clench together with need. Damn it. You can't help but feel the tender ache he left behind while dragging himself in and out of you.

He rolls his hips and unbuckles his belt, which coaxes whistles and screams from the crowd. In a single fluid motion, Jack pulls the leather from the belt loops and uses it as a makeshift whip, cracking it in the air. His dark eyes search the crowd, presumably for the bride. Your eyes slowly drift to the crown glimmering on top of Betty’s head, your gaze moving back to Jack right after.

Your entire body stills, your breath catches in your throat.

Your eyes lock with one another, his dark brows shooting up. He’s still moving with the music, hips swaying as he drags his fingers down sensually over each and every button. You press your lips together, wanting to tear your gaze away but also feeling as if it’s impossible. His breath hitches, unnoticed by everyone except for you.

After what feels like an eternity, Jack drags his gaze from you to Betty, shooting the bride-to-be a toothy smile.

“Now ain’t this a shame,” he drawls with a wink. “What a lovely woman to be snatched so soon.”

Betty’s grin widens and you can’t help but feel a bit light-hearted. You’re glad that Jack is at least good at his job. He always makes people feel good.

Jack begins his descent from the stairs and her cheeks flush. You’re as stiff as a board, some logical part of your brain screaming at you to push your chair back, add some more distance between what’s about to happen. His all-too-familiar scent fills your nostrils and you’re glued to where you are. Jack doesn’t so much as glance at you as he straddles Betty’s thighs, dipping low and arching his back as he comes back up, lips barely grazing her.

It’s hard not to be reminded of the first dance he’d ever done for you. Your chest too tight for your heart, your body feeling too small to be holding every organ in. You want to tear your gaze away but you feel trapped by the cheering and the clapping. In trance, you lift your hands and add to the noise, a small whoop leaving your lips.

You swear Jack cringes. It’s such a small movement, just a small jump in the muscle of his jaw and a small sneer turning at the corner of his mouth.

Good, you think, you don’t want to be the only uncomfortable one here.

Briefly, his eyes meet yours, a flicker of challenge in his eyes. You gape at the stare, does he think you clapped on purpose? To annoy him? He’s unbelievable.

But no matter what your intentions were, his eyes shift back to Betty, finger digging into his shirt with a self-satisfied smirk. He straightens and tears the fabric, the sound of buttons hitting the floors hidden by the loud sensual music. You gape at the sight of his bare chest. Betty seems equally as shocked, her eyes rake his chest, hungry.

Then, ever so gently, Jack takes a hold of her wrists and places her hand over his pecks, slithering back so her fingers move down his torso.

You weren’t jealous before, but you can’t deny the fire that suddenly flares in your stomach. An ugly feeling fills your insides, clutches at your heart. Sharp nails bury themselves into the soft, tender muscle. He doesn’t look at you as he shifts on his feet, turning while rolling his hips. Betty laughs, her arms barely caging the width of his waist. Jack sinks down and guides her hands to his crotch, Betty flushes when he feels him, her smile still wide.

He unbuckles his jeans and the crowd screams, meanwhile, you’re left dizzy, hands feeling numb as you clap. What the hell are you supposed to do in this situation? Leave? Continue to pretend that Jack is nothing more than a sexy stranger? Luckily you don’t have to think too much of it because he steps forward, leaving Betty’s arms to fall limp to her sides. You don’t know how, but as he walks towards the stage, the denim slips lower and lower, until the start of the swell of his ass is visible and his back dimples are in full view. Gifted from Venus herself.

“I’m gonna need a volunteer,” he drawls into the microphone, the honeyed voice making every hair on your body stand with attention. Jack slowly turns on his heel, eyes glued to the bride-to-be, making it clear to the entire room who the volunteer should be. Your eyes shift to Betty, her bottom lip sucked between her teeth, shapely brows knitted tightly together.

You realize, with horror, that she’s planning something.

Before the thought can become something tangible, something that you can mull over, you find yourself being pushed forward. Your wrist yanked upward by a gentle, yet firm, hand.

“We have a volunteer right here,” Betty calls out cheerfully. When you stare at her, wide-eyed and in shock, she winks at you. She mouths the words; have fun.

No, you want to scream, you certainly won’t be having fun. Alas, you see no way around it as all the women around you begin to cheer, your ass being edged out of your seat by sheer volume alone. Your eyes find Jack’s as you take the first step. His lips are curled in a wicked smile, an expression that doesn’t reach the darkness of his eyes. You swallow. The noise fades when he extends a hand, a silent ask for trust that you’re not that willing to give. But you do. You lay yourself in the middle of his palm and he wraps his fingers around it, guiding you to the stage. Lights flicker around you, some white, some colorful.

You stand like a doll in the middle of the stage, his body firm behind you, chest brushing your back. A shudder that you’re sure he won’t miss rolls down your spine. “Relax,” he murmurs into your ear. Involuntarily, you scoff. “You can leave,” he reminds you, nudging your arms to your sides and dragging the pads of his fingers across the delicate skin of your upper arms. His lips touch your cheek. “But that might raise some questions, darlin’.”

Damn it, he’s smooth.

You can’t really answer with everyone’s eyes glued on you both, so you make a sound that you hope expresses something along the lines of; I’ll stay but not for you, dickhead. You have doubts he got the message though. You assume you not running and cussing him out is probably a good enough of a sign for him to continue.

Your pulse skyrockets as his hands find your hips, prompting you to sway along with him. It doesn’t help that you’re stiff as a board but you manage to follow his lead. The thick outline of his cock brushes against your ass, and your cheeks burn. Your body betrays you as it grows hotter and hotter, the seam of your underwear growing damp with every move. He intertwines his fingers within your own, lifting your arm and spinning you around so you face him. Before you have a moment to catch your breath, he dips. Your breathing hitches as he comes back up, mouth an inch away from your body, inhaling as if you were completely bare to him.

Your knees start to shake. His hands slide down your back and nudge your legs apart before hooking afoot around your ankle. You find yourself sprawled upon the stage, knees bent with the soles of your shoes planted against the smooth floor. He towers over you, intimidating while standing tall between your legs. Jack doesn’t look down, eyes almost predatory as he observes the crowd. With a grin, he claps and hypes them all up. Both worry and excitement entangle around your heart, suffocating and squeezing your lungs.

Confusion crosses your face when he turns instead, but whatever you’re feeling is short-lived. He drops himself to the floor, long legs threading yours, he flips you both, and suddenly, his body is flushed against your own. Your heart skips a beat, arousal pooling deep in your gut. You feel every inch as he grinds himself against you, fingers cupping your throat, mouth skimming your cheek—he inhales and you feel teeth grazing your skin.

A moan parts your lips, a moan so silent that it’s drowned by the music and cheers, but not silent enough that it goes unnoticed by him. Every muscle grows tense. He smiles, something wicked and taunting reverberating out of him, another grind provoking you to raise your hips. Which you do, begrudgingly. Because you’ve missed him. Despite the anger. . . you still miss him, miss the weight of his body, the layering of his words.

“I’ve missed you too, darlin’,” he whispers, his breath warm over your skin. The sentence sends a coldness down your spine that seeps into the very fabric of your being. A whimper shakes your throat. His lips move, but not a word comes out. You’re surprised to notice that you’re disappointed with the fact.

You're being flipped over again, thick thighs straddling your waist as he comes to an almost plank position, your noses nearly brushing against one another. Jack grins and whips his upper body back, hand pushing back his hat and threading his hair. Thrusting into the air, he slides a palm down his torso. You watch in awe as his hand disappears beneath his pants, briefly grabbing himself before pulling his hand back. With the same hand, he holds your throat, leaning closer. The crowd goes wild. You hear the blood rush in your ear.

The music comes to a close, the melody fading into the distance. Your eyes meet, and just as it does, a loud cheer bursts from the crowd.

You’re both panting heavily, two sets of eyes eating the other up, engraving every detail to memory. The color of his eyes are darker than you remember, his lips a bit paler compared to your memory. He looks like he’s about to say something. You beat him to it.

“Screw you,” you mouth at him, nostrils flared and gaze becoming one of steel. He’s startled but not surprised. You’re basically scrambling off the stage when he moves away, and disappear into the halls. You don’t care if it raises suspicion. You don’t care if Betty demands answers later on. You just want to vanish into thin air.

This isn’t how you expected this day to go. You were expecting to have fun, maybe get a bit tipsy and go home to relieve yourself further with the help of your vibrator. You, in no way, were expecting to run into Jack. It didn’t help that Betty volunteered you to go on stage. There’s an endless pit in your stomach now because of it.

The halls seem endless. You walk and walk, not really having a clear vision of where you want to go. Maybe you should leave. The sound of the party is still roaring in the background. You wonder if Jack’s still dancing. You wonder if he stared as you left. Some part of you desperately wants to pick a fight, your nails itching to be buried in a soft surface—

You should leave. That’s the logical thing to do. And after everything you’ve been through, you’re not that keen about listening to your heart.

You turn on your heel, heart ramming wildly in your chest, ribcage barely contaminating the muscle violent with emotion.

Sadly, something warm and firm presses into your face—hard. Pain blossoms from the base of your nose, spreading throughout your face. You yelp and take a step back, the moment feeling oddly familiar as you rub a palm over your aching nose.

“Sorry,” you hear him say, and finally your gaze lifts. You see him. Jack. Standing there like a kicked puppy, his hands somewhere between wanting to lay on his sides and reach out for you to soothe the pain. He does the former when your eyes flit between said hands and eyes, a pang of instant guilt overwhelming the color of them. “Are you a’right?”

“You,” you say, the word bouncing against the back of gritted teeth. You point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t get to ask me that.”

“Fair enough,” he mutters. “At least let me do this since it was my fault.”

His hand disappears into his jacket and he smoothly pulls out a tissue. He takes a step forward and your eyes go wide when you feel him pressing the soft material against your nose. You hadn’t felt the bleeding. Feeling slightly disoriented, your fingers curl around his hand, thinking he’ll move away so you can clog the bleeding yourself. He makes no such move. The heat from his fingers seeps into your skin even with the tissue in between.

“I think that’s enough,” you say with a glare. “I’m fine now.” Jack finally lets go and you detest how cold you feel without his touch. You give your nose one last rub before lowering your hand, peeling the tissue away. At a loss, you stuff it into your purse.

“What do you say?”

The question catches you off guard, your brows furrow and he repeats himself. Slower this time. “What. Do. You. Say.”

“What—” The tips of your ears burn and you swear if you were in a cartoon your air would be forming a spike right about now. “Are you expecting a damn thank you?!”

“Perhaps,” he tuts. “Or maybe I just wanna talk and I’m lookin’ for a gateway to do so.”

“Getting me angry isn’t the way to do that,” you inhale a sharp breath. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

He takes a step, crowding you until your back is pressed snugly against the wall. Your breath catches in your throat, your anger and frustrations from earlier dwindling upon feeling his warm breath ghosting your cheek. His hand finds purchase over the empty spot right near your ear. You can almost taste him on your tongue. Involuntarily, you inch closer and your regret is immediate when you see the twitch of his lips. He tilts his head. His eyes bore into yours, searching for something, anything. They’re so dark. Almost black.

With a sudden jerk of your head, you pull back, a thud echoing where your skull meets the wall, “What do you want?” you hiss. “A quick fuck?”

The poison beneath your words startles even you. His eyes go wide.

He doesn’t move away though.

“That’s not why I’m here,” he rasps, voice dropping. He slips a leg between your own, your spine becoming a stick with the sudden jolt of electricity snapping through your body. His thigh firm and warm against your sex. When your hands grip his arms despite you, he grins. “But it seems like you wouldn’t mind it.”

No. No, you wouldn’t. Fuck. What the hell is wrong with you?

“Why?” you gasp as he pushes his leg further up, heat coiling in your stomach. You squeeze his biceps, and when you meet his eyes, he gives you a questioning gaze. “Why are you taunting me? Is it really that fun to string me along?”

Jack attempts to pull back but your grip constricts. He remains, comes closer even, your bodies impossibly close. His hand slides down to your waist, thumb drawing slow, soothing circles. “I’m weak,” he answers simply. Like it’s meant to explain everything. “I’t not a matter of stringing you along or to taunt, darlin’. I just can’t keep away.”

“I don’t want you to keep away,” you breathe, voice desperate and hoarse. “I just want you to explain, Jack. I want to understand.”

You were telling the truth. You did want to understand. You want to see for yourself if he was worth forgiving or not, if whatever had gone through his head that prompted him to leave you in the middle of the night made sense. Even then—Even with the off chance that it does make sense, you still might find it hard to forgive him.

Time stands still, the air heavy with your unanswered plea. You feel the tremor of his hand. He chews his bottom lip vigorously, contemplating his fight or flight response. It’s brief, but your gaze drops to his lips. So full, the bottom one plump from being abused between sharp teeth. Your tongue darts to lick your own lip, mimicking how you would soothe the ache of the tender muscle. A mistake, you’re quick to realize, because instead of explaining, he tempts your desires, crashing your mouths together, licking where you had just not moments ago.

You surrender to him quicker than you thought. His tongue slips between your lips, tasting you, urging you to part for him further. You do. He traces every inch of your mouth with the tip of his tongue, pushing deeper. Heat licking the base of your spine, you grind down, the solid drag of his thigh against your cunt a delicious friction.

“Jack,” you pant, he nips at your chin, his gaze finding your own. “Fuck, that feels nice.”

“‘M about to make you feel even nicer,” he answers with a sultry drawl. Before your brain can register, he’s on his knees, bunching up your dress. He pulls down your underwear, leaving it dangling just a bit below your knees. You hold your breath as he inches closer. Hot breath ghosting your damp folds. He lays a tentative kiss over your mouth, a bit of tongue poking between his lips. When he looks up you’re mesmerized, dark lashes heavily framing his eyes.

Jack doesn’t say a word as he begins his feast. He’s a man starved. Mouth and tongue leisurely moving between the delicate lips of your pussy and sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves that crown it. Your knees buckle. Thankfully, he keeps your hips firm against the wall, hand splayed wide over your thighs. Your moans are hushed, short gasps of air that fills your lungs rapidly. The aquiline curve of his nose bumps against your clit as he ventures deeper, tongue tracing your fluttering entrance. He retraces your opening, his hum falling on your skin.

You lift your hips off the wall, chasing the warmth of his mouth. He licks you with fat strokes, tongue flat, he follows the seam of your heat. You push your fingers through the damp, soft locks that frame the back of his head. He growls and brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing circles. The motion sends you into a frenzy. Eyes closing, you thrust against his pointed tongue. You swear he smiles as he fucks you shallowly with it, your orgasm quickly building to something indescribable. You tug at his hair, pulling him off of you.

The sight takes you by surprise.

His eyes are glazed over, only lust and need swirling in them. Your gaze follows the opening of his lips, a gasp parting them while his thumbs stroke the heated skin of your thighs. His lips glisten under the dimmed light, mustache soaked with the pure essence of you. Jack clears his throat before he speaks, not breaking eye contact as his tongue swipes sensually over his bottom lip. “Use me,” he breathes heavily, voice nothing but gravel. “Take what you need, darlin’.”

You note the tell-tale signs of losing control. His words warm your stomach. Something primal and possessive taking over. You bring a hand to his cheek, thumb right above the tender skin that resides right under his eye. As you drag the finger down, you make a point of grazing your nail. His breath hitches and your eyes go wide. Your chest heaves, breathing suddenly the hardest thing you can do.

“You enjoy seein’ me on my knees, sugar?” he asks, a weak tease to his tone. You don’t answer.

“Touch yourself,” you say instead, voice soft contrary to the command. Jack obliges, bringing a hand between his legs. He palms himself over his tight jeans, pupils dilating as he holds your gaze. You swallow. “Good boy.”

“Fuck,” he rasps. “Fuck—” he grinds himself into his palm, frustrated. “Do I make you feel good, darlin’? Tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

The air between your crackles. More slick dripping down the inside of your thighs. He swallows thickly and you notice the traces of fear that you won’t give him what he so desperately needs. Craves. And maybe you shouldn’t give it to him. Maybe you should just pull him back and ride his face until you’re soaking him. But your resolve has already cracked. Been like that ever since you stepped on the stage, giving him that trust again.

You bring him back, his tongue darting by instinct. He circles your clit, eyes still fixed on you. Your breathing slows. “You make me feel amazing,” you mutter, a bit breathless. “Which is a problem because I never seem to get enough.”

You expect him to laugh, snort, or at least shoot you one of those mischievous grins—he doesn’t. His eyes flutter closed and he inhales you, signaling the end of the conversation, he buries his mouth deep. His lips tighten around your clit and he flicks at it with the tip, your pulse skyrockets, your breathing coming in short. When your hips move away from the wall once more, he slams them back, a growl reverberating in his chest. He moves his head from side to side, tongue relentless.

Every nerve in your body is electrified. Skin taut over muscle. Your head falls back, knocking against the wall. He forces his tongue inside and resumes circling his thumb over your clit. Your moans become loud, uncaring as you feel the gentle scrape of his teeth. “Jack,” you moan. “I’m—fuuuck—I’m ‘bout to come—”

The confession seems to stir something wild inside him. He laps at your soaked cunt and meets your gaze, knocking the air from your lungs a second time that night.

He pushes you over the edge, your inside pulsing as you come. The halls around you spin and your arms loosely coil around his head, hanging on for dear life. His tongue is still moving. Licking, tasting everything you have to offer. Tingles spread throughout your body, goosebumps rising across your skin at the chill of the hallway.

Jack gives you one final lick before pulling away and standing. Suddenly, he seems larger than life, you realize you prefer him on his knees, at least for now.

“What do you want?” he asks, and your eyes drop to where his hand rubs over his hard-on. Memories of his cock splitting you wide open flash before your eyes, your inside clenching at the phantom feel. However, despite you both knowing what you want, you can’t voice it. You don’t have it in you to ask him to fuck you. So, you turn around, your forearms bracing the wall. His palms move up from the back of your legs to your ass, he squeezes gently before sliding up to your waist, taking the ends of the dress with it.

His lips touch your nape and you tense at the gesture. He must’ve felt it because Jack moves away, slipping his cock inside of you. He slides in with ease. Like you were made for him. A choked-out sound leaves you, his hips flush against the swell of your ass.

“Feels so good, darlin’,” he mutters, lips hovering an inch away from your skin. “Missed this pussy.”

Jack doesn’t waste time any time, knowing that your time is limited and someone might walk by at any second. His pacing is brutal. Cock filling the tight fist of your cunt with hard thrusts. Your brows knit with pleasure, mouth hanging open. If it wasn’t for the wall and Jack’s solid presence behind you, you’re positive you’d collapse. His hand slides up your torso and cups your breasts. Your back arches, pleasure rolling down your spine. He traces the column of your neck with his tongue and you shudder at the feeling.

“You’re loud, sugar,” he warns. “Not that I’m complainin’ but I’m assumin’ you don’t wanna get caught with your pants down. Literally.”

You shake your head vigorously, words failing you. But the movement of your head is all it takes for him to cover your mouth, moans bouncing off of his palm. The wet sounds flood the hall, deafening to your ears. The heavy drag of his cock is heavenly, your body clenching and begging him not to leave. He makes a choked sound, head falling between your shoulder blades. His nails bite into your skin, pulling you against him, pushing into you harder.

“I ain’t gonna last,” he groans.

You’re quick to reply, fear curling at your heart, “Don’t come on me.”

You don’t think you can handle him leaving you again in such a vulnerable state.

He rolls his hips and you feel every tantalizing inch. “Okay,” he answers, the previous raps of his tone becoming something somber, bittersweet. “Okay,” he repeats. “I won’t.”

The pleasure that had been building flickers away like a dying flame. His pacing slows, wild thrusts becoming indulgent, slow. He grinds himself deeper with every push of his hips and your eyes roll. It feels good. Amazing. Breath shortening. But you can’t deny that the previous rush is gone. Time is once again moving, reality becoming the most solid thing around you. He’s going to come and leave. Your vision blurs.

It doesn’t take him long, he pulls out and you feel incredibly cold and empty. So much so that you shiver as you press your forehead into the wall. You want to turn around. Watch him, see the desperate snap of his hips. Watch him make a mess of his hand. However, you remain in place, refusing to look.

He grunts and his breath becomes labored. You hear the faint whisper of your name falling from your lips—then silence, only soft, slow breathing. You finally turn then, seeing the tissue in his hand briefly before he stuffs it in his pocket.

“I—” he starts, meeting your gaze. You raise a hand.

“I know. You’re going to say you can’t see me again and all that bullshit. I’m leaving don’t worry.”

You barely fix your dress, swiftly heading towards the exit of this ridiculously large building. He calls out to you, asking you to wait but you refuse. You’re not going to wait for him to break your heart again. You don’t need to see the pity in his eyes. Your poor thundering heart can’t take it.

The sun is gone. The sky a mixture of dark blues and blacks. You take a deep breath of the crispy air, allowing yourself to stall just a moment before searching for your car. You’re outside, yet you still feel suffocated. Pleasure still simmers under your skin. Already missing, aching for his touch. You ball your hands into tight fists, allowing your nails to bite into the tender flesh of your palm. You welcome the mild pain. At this point, you would welcome anything that provides the bliss of forgetfulness.

“Get back here!”

You flip him off without looking. You swear you hear him snort with amusement. The bastard.

“At least let me explain—” he sounds desperate, his voice grows closer. You shake your head even though he can’t see and hug your jacket, your car should be close. . . You don’t stop. You can’t. A broken hiccup parts your lips and the tears you fought so hard against finally escape. You wipe them with the heel of your palm.

“I’m sorry!”

And as if time itself stood still, you stop dead in your tracks. The silence between you grows, his steps coming closer.

All that hurt, all the anger. It finally boils over.

“For WHAT?!” You turn around, the wind howling around you. Tear streaks chill over your cheeks. “Are you apologizing for that night, or right now? Do you have any idea how hard it was to force myself to go out tonight?! Are you aware how much it hurts to fucking look at you?!”

He’s not as far as you thought he was. Only a couple of steps between you two. Your eyes drop to his feet and back to his face again. He stops. For the first time, Jack seems at a loss for words. His brows come together in remorse, lips parted with words unsaid. You shake your head, hands still in fists, you’re not at a loss for words, however, all of it piles up in your throat like a dam. The world stands still. The only giveaway that time is still moving is the wind. Icy whips of air irritating your skin.

“You hurt me,” you say, surprisingly clear despite the knot in your throat. “Do you understand what that means, Jack? I’m hurt. There’s a bleeding wound in my chest because I stupidly thought—” Your chest caves in and you avert your gaze. “I thought you might actually look past all the fucked up parts of me. Maybe it was selfish of me but it made me happy to think I might be the one you would open up to. That me, being the way that I am, would be enough. But in the end. . . I didn’t even get an explanation. You just left.”

You drag your gaze back to him. You’re not sure but you think he took a step closer while you were speaking, his hands outstretched like he’s fighting the urge to pull you into a bear hug. His eyes glimmer under the faint moonlight. As if every word you said hurt him just as much as it did to speak them. You shake your head again. “Just leave.”

“No,” he chokes out, closing the gap. His fingers curl around your wrist. He must’ve seen your flight response starting to take over. You don’t fight the iron grip. “I—I don’t think you’re fucked up,” he blurts, unintelligently. “I don’t think any of that. In fact, I think the opposite, you’re too good for me, sunshine. You. . . I’m a coward, I couldn’t handle the love in your eyes. Couldn’t handle being that for someone again. But. . . I want to try, sugar. I want to try and be that someone for you. I don’t want to run away from this.”

You stand silent, shocked. You can’t see it for yourself, but you know your gaze has warmed up to be something soothing and understanding.

“I lost her,” he says. “Viv. . . she was my everythin’ and one day she was just. . . gone. My—My little boy along with—”

You shatter. All of the anger, the hurt, your icy resolve melting and becoming a puddle at your feet. You cradle his face, catching the first tears with the pad of your thumb. His arms coil around your waist, muscles tight around your frame. He’s not looking at you, he’s looking at a random spot on the concrete.

“She went out for milk,” he continues, broken. “She was still pregnant, two months. . . two months later I would’ve,” he cuts himself off. “I should’ve left instead but she argued that I was tired from work and that she needed to stretch her legs. I let her go. An hour later the police were at my door, telling me that she got caught in a gun fight between two rival gangs. Shot. Dead.”

He spat the last words out, his guilt, his hatred for the world laced in every one of them.

“That’s why I couldn’t. With you. I don’t deserve a second chance, darlin’.” he finally meets your eyes, and for the first time you see him for what he truly is. A good man, broken and lost. Just like you. “I’m afraid of losin’ you.”

“Who says you don’t deserve a second chance?” you whisper, your thumbs stroking the delicate skin. “I’m sorry, Jack. I’m sorry you had to go through all that. I—I didn’t know. And I don’t want to lie and say you won’t lose me, life is unpredictable but. . . I promise that this,” you point between the two of you. His gaze follows your hand as it rests on his chest. “Deserves a chance. I’ve never felt anything like I have with you. You make me happy, Jack. As simple as it sounds. And. . . well. . .” your lips crack into a heartfelt smile and when he sees, he lets out a breath. “I’ve already fallen pretty hard for you. As you can guess.”

His hands come up to your cheeks, holding you as delicately as one would a rose. Instinctively, you lean into his touch, eyes fluttering closer and smiling. “I think this deserves a chance too,” he mutters, his breath tickling your lips. “Will you have me, darlin’? Fucked up parts and all?”

He brushes your lips together, prompting the grin that is quick to form, “Only if you’ll have me, cowboy.”

Jack’s fingertips trace the contour of your lips before lightly pressing against them. His touch is gentle and warm. His lips come slowly towards yours, and when they meet, it is heaven itself.

His hands slide down your neck and around your waist. His mouth moves in perfect harmony with yours as his tongue lightly skims across your lips.

You can feel the heat radiating from his body as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. His mouth moves feverishly desire and your body starts to respond in kind. And when he breaks the kiss, you’re surprised to see Betty’s house behind him, completely forgetting where you were.

“Of course, darlin,” he smiles, brushing his mouth over your forehead. “Of course.”

#agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x female reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x female reader #kingsman the golden circle #kingsman fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #stripper!jack

512 notes · View notes

sky-high-standards · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, i saw your requests open and i've been thinking what i should request but an idea came up to me.

What about singer reader x yandere fans? I think is a great idea.

Ah apart from that, what's ur favorite song?

Yandere!!Fans x Singer reader

Thank you so much for requesting and my favorite song is currently either the Daddy issues remix or Everything I wanted.

Yep I decided to redo this thing and I may make it a reverse harem

No one expected you to blow up you took the industry by storm your humble beginning and charming persona first got you a small fan base on TikTok then you only got more and more popular and here you are now sitting pretty on a talk show the bright lights blinding you as the host looks at you eagerly itching to start this interview.

Welcome back everyone today we have hit idol Y/n S/n here with us

The crowd roared when they heard your name thousands of people here just for you their beloved idol.

Host: So y/n what's it like to have such success so quick and young.

Y/n: it's pretty overwhelming that's for sure but I have my adoring and loyal fans supporting me.

You said and smiled at the audience and that sent them over the edge your fans were always quite insane lively but they meant well they got you your success in the first place who are you to complain but idol life was tough enough and you weren't exactly thrilled to see your Instagram filled with desperate fans begging for your attention everyday some even threatening to commit suicide if you didn't reply.

And the things they'd throw on stage when you performed were sometimes sweet like a teddy bear or roses and other times not so sweet the day you were preforming and got hit in the face with a dildo is a day you'll never forget...you still shudder st the memory.

And the amount of secret getaway houses you own are concerningly high since an extra persistent can always manges to follow you home no matter how many detours and lane switches you take.

No one said being famous was easy and all fans act like this right?

It's totally normal that they worship you like a God and it's totally normal to know jars of your sweat and used pads are being sold for millions on the dark and what celebrity doesn't have a dab try to kidnap them twice a week.

And you'd think you'd have your bodyguards preventing most of these things but unfortunately they're fans too and it's common to find your bodyguards being a little too close and going through your dirty laundry...

But unbelievably enough there were certain fans that stood out among the rest in the worst ways possible these fans will do anything and I mean anything for your acknowledgment oh you have an extra mean troll sending nasty comments no less then a day later they send an apology and they've mysteriously gone missing you signed an undeserving fans merch? they were immediately talked down and beaten up for it.

Completely normal fans ☺️

284 notes · View notes

chahnniesroom · 1 year ago

Text

tenderness | chapter 10: and a time to heal

[noun] /ˈtendərnəs/

1. the quality of being gentle, kind, or loving

2. the feeling of pain, aching, or soreness

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: in a world where soulmates are rare and precious, you don’t know why the universe has decided to give you one. you never could have imagined that they would be an idol, and one that you worked with at that, or the challenges that would arise from your bond.

chapter word count: 3k

chapter warnings: lots of emotions happening

a/n: this chapter wraps up most of tenderness! i can't believe all that's left to post is bonus scene 3 and the epilogue :") thank you everyone for your support!!

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter | read it on ao3

With Y/n settled at home, Chan is no longer allowed to avoid schedules anymore. In fact, it's almost the opposite since they've been forced to cram everything into the couple of weeks that they have left until they leave for the next leg of their tour. A few interviews were done without him and some schedules for individual members were pushed forward, but a significant portion of the promotions for their next album and partnerships with companies were just postponed.

JYPE never pressured Chan while he stayed with Y/n in the hospital, in fact they had been extremely supportive throughout this whole experience, but now there’s an unspoken expectation for business as usual. The first day back to work is the hardest, that’s no surprise, but he thought it’d get a lot easier, that he wouldn’t think of her every other second.

Although he hasn't mentioned anything, ever since Y/n has been back from the hospital, he's been suffering from some sort of separation anxiety. It takes the form of a low thrum of discomfort after he's been away from her for a while, the constant need to check his phone for texts or calls, and a feeling of restlessness as they get closer and closer to finishing schedules and going home. He's never spent so much time away from the studio without feeling guilty before. He’d like to attribute it to the soulmate bond, but he knows it’s more than that.

Chan just… misses her. Misses her warm smile, how she melts into him when he cards his fingers through her silky smooth hair, the soft press of her cheek against his shoulder when she falls asleep sitting beside him.

The only problem is that Chan still hasn’t talked to Y/n, hasn’t cleared things up, hasn’t confessed. There is still a tension that hangs in the air when they’re together and Chan knows he needs to. He knows. He just doesn’t know how to address it all. When it seems like the chasm between how he feels and how she thinks he feels is so large. He’s scared of messing it up and somehow making things even worse than they are now.

When he’s away, he is able to think up all these sorts of ways of opening up, but the second he sees Y/n, it’s like he can’t speak. It makes it even harder to be away from home.

Today is no different. Everyone is excited to eat and get changed, but Chan cannot wait to see Y/n again. They’re lucky that a schedule ending early gives them enough time to make it back to the dorms just before lunch because they were previously planning on eating on the go. The members crowd into the elevator and chatter away about what they're going to have for lunch. At the door, Minho spins around and hisses for everyone to be quiet before punching in the code. They want it to be a surprise visit, but don’t want to risk waking Y/n if she happens to be sleeping.

It's silent when the door opens, all the lights off, but the blinds are open to let sunlight through. Chan is the first to kick off his shoes and he beelines to his room, twisting the doorknob carefully to peek in. It's not completely dark, but enough that Chan has to squint and wait for his eyes to adjust before he realises the bed is empty and the covers neatly folded. He flicks on the light and can't stop his pulse from speeding up as he sees Y/n’s not around. When he steps back into the hallway, Changbin is right about to go into his room, but pauses.

"Is she still napping?" he whispers.

"No," Chan says, starting to feel unsteady. "She's not there. Is she in the-"

They both hear the shower turn on and the steady hum of the fan to prevent moisture from building up.

"That's Jisung," Changbin says slowly. They both know there is no way he would shower if Y/n was in there with him.

Together they walk to the kitchen, trying not to rush but failing. They startle Minho who is pulling out ingredients from the fridge.

"Where's the fire?" he jokes. "The food won't be ready for a while."

"You haven't seen Y/n?" Chan demands, even though he already knows the answer. The apartment isn't that big and they've covered half of it already. It is possible that Y/n is hiding out in Jisung or Hyunjin’s room, but Chan can’t think of a single reason why she would be. Suddenly feeling too hot and a bit claustrophobic, Chan has to tug off his hoodie and hat.

“No, I thought she was resting?” Minho drops what he’s holding onto the counter and leads Chan and Changbin in a quick search through the rest of the rooms, confirming that Y/n is nowhere to be seen. Along the way, the trio piques the attention of the rest of the members, including Jisung who is still showering and had screamed loudly when they swung the bathroom door open. They all crowd in the living room, and Chan finally remembers to try calling Y/n’s phone.

They wait with baited breath as Chan punches Y/n’s number in and it’s telling how stressed Chan must look when nobody teases him for how shaky his fingers are. The call has just begun to ring when they hear the corresponding chime of Y/n’s ringtone from somewhere in the room. They watch, dismayed, as Felix fishes her phone out from the corner of one of the couches.

Chan wants to throw up.

Something must show on his face because Seungmin takes hold of his shoulders and guides him to sit down.

“Hey, hey look at me.” Seungmin snaps his fingers and Chan jerks away. “Deep breaths. We’re going to find her. You can either stay here or come with me to the company.”

“I’ll go with you. I think I’ll go crazy if I’m stuck here waiting,” he admits.

“Okay. We’ll go together. Where else do you think she could be?” Seungmin prompts him.

“Uhm.” Chan can’t think, or rather, he’s thinking too much to focus. He keeps spiralling, mind creating stories of Y/n collapsed on a sidewalk or a sasaeng making it into the building and somehow finding her.

“I’ll go with Hyunjin and check the nearby cafes and convenience stores,” Felix offers. “It’s lunchtime, she could have gone out to get some food.”

“Jisung and I can stay here. We��ll prepare lunch and let you know if she comes back,” Minho says.

“Do you think Changbin-hyung and I should go to the company too?” Jeongin asks. “The two of us can go through the building so that Seungmin-hyung and Chan-hyung can stay in the studio.”

Although he’s having a hard time contributing to the conversation, Chan doesn’t miss all the glances that are being sent his way. He wants to reassure everyone that they don’t have to take care of him, that they should focus on finding Y/n, but he’s comforted by the efficient way that Seungmin is leading the group and knows he doesn’t have the capacity to be included in the search.

“Okay. So Felix, Hyunjin look around the neighbourhood. Minho-hyung and Jisung stay here. Chan-hyung, Changbin-hyung, Jeongin, and I will go to the company,” Seungmin confirms. Everyone nods and grabs their things to leave. Minho heads back to the kitchen, but not before reminding each pair to bring masks and hats.

—

Once they arrive at the company, Seungmin immediately steers Chan towards his studio and sits him down in his chair, settling in front of him on the couch. Changbin and Jeongin have split up to search the building and Chan assumes that Seungmin is tasked with making sure that Chan doesn’t continue getting lost in a death spiral of thoughts. Judging from the concerned looks that he’s getting, even by random staff in the hallway, Chan’s not doing a good job of hiding his feelings.

"What's going on?" Seungmin says, head tilted slightly as he studies Chan. "I get it, you're worried, but there must be something else. You usually wouldn't freak out this much so quickly, hyung."

“What?” Chan laughs unconvincingly. “Nothing’s wrong. Other than the obvious fact that my soulmate was seriously injured and it’s my fault and now nobody knows where she is.”

In response, Seungmin just stares at Chan, who avoids his gaze. He’s always been one of the most perceptive members, even if he doesn’t always step in to interfere, and it’s clear that he sees right through Chan.

“Hyung, I know this isn’t just about not being able to find Y/n. You’ve been on edge since the hospital. In the beginning, it was understandable, but Y/n’s fine, the doctors said there was nothing to worry about, right?” Seungmin says after a moment.

“Right.”

“But you’ve been getting worse. There’s something more to it.”

“You’ve always been so smart, Seungminnie,” Chan sighs.

“Hyung,” Seungmin prompts him after he doesn’t continue.

“I said some things I didn’t mean. It hurt her and I didn’t know.” Chan shakes his head. “Or maybe I did know but I told myself that it was fine. I don’t even know why I said it, it just came out on its own. I was stressed, I was tired, but it isn’t an excuse. I feel like I’ve messed things up so much. I apologised the next day and she said that it was okay but it’s not. I think she actually believed the things that I said. I want to make things right, but I don’t know what I can do that would fix it.”

“It’s easy, hyung,” Seungmin says simply.

“Well, what should I do?”

“Just tell her. Tell her how you feel. Clear things up. Help her understand.”

There’s a quiet knock on the door and then Y/n peeks her head in, bringing the conversation to an end. Seeing the pair, she pushes the door open fully and steps inside. Relief crashes into Chan and he’s glad he’s already sitting because his legs feel weak.

Seungmin takes that as a cue. He pats Chan on the shoulder encouragingly as he passes and slips out the door.

“What’s up? All Changbin said is that you were looking for me. Is something wrong?” Y/n asks, concerned.

“Y/n! What were you thinking?” All of Chan’s worry, stress, and fear bubble up, escaping as anger. He wasn’t expecting to yell, but it just comes out on its own. “What are you doing? Why are you here?”

He doesn’t register that he has stood up until he’s close enough that Y/n shifts, taking a step away. Ignoring the way that she stiffens, he grabs her shoulder and pulls her into his arms, leaning down to put his head on her shoulder. He immediately relaxes once he’s holding her and can feel the reassuring warmth of the Charge, anger rushing out of him as fast as it had come on.

“I was working,” she says, twisting slightly in an attempt to get away. Chan allows her to move back only so that he can cup her cheeks and smooths his hands down her arms, checking that she’s unharmed.

“Working- Y/n.” Chan wraps himself back around her, making sure to be careful of her still healing wound. He can’t stop his distress from leaking into his voice. “Don’t you know it’s not safe to be out yet? Your pictures, we couldn’t get all of them taken down. People know what you look like. And you should be resting.”

“I have a job, Chan-oppa. I can’t just not work. I've used up all my sick days already and there’s a lot that I’m not able to do from home. It’s okay, I wore a mask and was careful when I was taking the bus here.” She rests her hand on the top of Chan’s head reassuringly. There’s the tiniest bit of relief that he feels hearing that she’s dropped the formalities again, although it doesn’t ease the twisting of his stomach and the dread he feels thinking of her out in public.

“Don’t take the bus!” Chan says, sounding frantic. “Don’t walk! Don’t leave the dorms without someone else! Y/n, you know we’ve had problems with sasaengs knowing where we live or waiting outside the company. What if someone was there? What if they hurt you again?” The because of me is left unsaid, but they both know what he means.

“Hey, hey.” Y/n combs through his hair soothingly, probably recognising now how serious this is for him. She tilts Chan’s face up to look at her and her eyes widen slightly. It’s only when her hands come up to cup his cheeks and her fingers gently swipe under his eyes that Chan realises he’s crying. He immediately tucks his face back into her neck, embarrassed. “It’s okay. I made it. I’m safe and you’re safe. You don’t have to worry about anything. Just stop and breathe with me for a second, okay?”

Chan doesn’t want to stop and breathe. He’s too busy thinking of how he felt on the car ride to the hospital, helpless to do anything except scroll endlessly through all the postings of people who had actually been there while he had been unaware of what had happened. He’s thinking of the conversation he overheard where Y/n had expressed her insecurities to Eunsung. He’s thinking of the lecture from Eunsung. He’s thinking of the warning he received from the doctor right before Y/n was released.

Suddenly, he can’t stand another moment without telling her how he feels.

“You know I care about you, right?” Chan blurts out. Judging by the way that Y/n stills, hand frozen in his hair, she’s just as surprised to hear this as he is. When he doesn’t continue, she lets out an unconvincing huff of laughter.

“Yes, I know,” she says placatingly. Chan can tell she doesn’t quite believe him. He pulls back so that he is facing her fully.

“There are a lot of people that care about you,” Chan continues insistently. “Do you understand? I- I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you. I can’t bear it, the thought of you getting hurt again.”

“Oppa, you don’t have to say this just because you think I want to hear it," she says, looking away. Now it’s Chan’s turn to reach up and cup Y/n’s face between his hands. They’re so close that he can see the moisture that’s starting to gather in her eyes.

“I was out of my mind, not knowing where you were. The boys were worried too. Did you think that nobody cares what happens to you? We care- I care. A lot.”

“Channie-oppa,” Y/n says softly, “I know-”

“I’m sorry,” Chan interrupts. “I’m so sorry, I know that I messed up in more ways than one. I know that I hurt you. I- It’s tearing me up inside and I know that there’s nothing I can do to make up for the pain that I caused but I want to try. I really really lo- I really care about you.”

“I know you care,” Y/n repeats. They both ignore the word that Chan almost said. “Of course I do. You don’t have to say it because I see it in all the little things that you do. The way you introduced me to your family, how you always want to defend me from mine. When you carry me to bed after I fall asleep and make sure to do recordings or livestreams in other members’ rooms so that it doesn’t bother me. I know that you text me more than any other person you know. It’s just hard, sometimes. It feels surreal to be on the receiving end of so much… care. I don’t know what to do with it all.”

“If it’s ever too much, then let me know. But I will always always be here to remind you that you’re cared for. And that you’re worthy and deserving of that care. You make my life better, Y/n. You always have. I should have made that more obvious.”

“I-” Y/n reaches up to wipe away a tear that is slowly making its way down her cheek and laughs a little. “This is getting to be a bad habit, why am I always crying in here?”

Chan knows that Y/n is making a joke, but the truth behind her statement prevents him from laughing along.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“You don’t have to keep apologising-”

“It’s not the studio that’s making you cry, Y/n. We both know it. It’s me.”

“Oppa, please don’t beat yourself up too much. This time is different anyway, these are happy tears and look- you’re crying too, that must mean it balances things out right? So I just have to make you cry one more time and then we’ll be even.”

This time her comment works and Chan can’t stop a huff of laughter from escaping.

“There we go,” Y/n says, voice full of affection. “No more crying okay?”

“Okay.”

“I know this is going to be difficult. It-” Y/n pauses to take a deep breath. “It still hurts, I won’t lie. But this relationship, it requires effort from both of us and we’re both willing to put in the work. We can fix it together.”

Together.

Chan thinks that he can get used to the sound of that.

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter | read it on ao3

185 notes · View notes

imminent-danger-came · 3 months ago

Note

Very very sorry for the spam but you are the only person outside of my immediate friend group who enjoys both shadowpeach AND dragonfruit in the very specific way that I do 🛐🛐🛐

Like I am the BIGGESTTTTT believer in aroace swk who has only ever really loved mcq in That Specific Way. Like not romantic but also not completely platonic— he loved him and he loved him in a way he never loved anyone else which is what mattered most. And mcq I see as...idk! Maybe he's aroace too, regardless I think he also loved and only loved swk BECAUSE he was swk. That is all that ever mattered to him. That it was swk. Loyal to a fault; even after swk hurt him so much, even after he hurt swk just as much. (Haha this is just like I'm Your Man by Mitski—)

And I do NOT see them as cutesy or as like a sweet and domestic couple. They are FAR from over their many, many issues and they will always have that bit of toxicity and hurt no matter how much they may hypothetically mellow out bc the ways in which they hurt each other WAS unforgivable. But the thing is, does that even matter? Does it matter if they'll still love each other anyways? If, in the end, all they ever wanted was to be by each others side even as they were covered in each others blood and blinded by their own heartbreak, anger, and hatred. Love. Obsession. Whatever it was that they felt for each other.

I also like,,, even if they somehow hypothetically hot their shit together enough to be a "functioning couple", I do not see them w any of the typical relationship labels like I think mcq would hurl if u called swk his boyfriend, husband, lover, etc like PLEASE I understand not everyone will have the same opinions and ship dynamics and I respect it, but I have a very specific view on their relationship and they are neither romantic or platonic, but a secret third thing. But they are also actually both. Whatever it is, it's love. A love that grew sharp and bent in its intensity when that love festered into a hatred that edged the line of obsession far too many times to ever be "normal" hatred.

Okay I think I've ranted enough. For now. Thankyou very much if u read all of this I have so very many shadowpeach thoughts 🛐

OMG HELLO

You are the only person outside of my immediate friend group who understands shadowpeach the way I do

I could honestly also read Macaque as allo, but no matter what their relationship is so aspec/arospec to me. Like whatever their bond was, it didn't matter because they had each other. Until they didn't. Until they knew their relationship was one of hatred. Until it was somehow even more complicated.

What drives me crazier is at this point, they would both choose MK over each other. It's pretty clear that Macaque expected Wukong to sacrifice himself in MK's place v ("He needs to know it's not all on him" "It doesn't always have to be you!" "Get the kid you idiot" "Wukong..."), because that was what he was willing to loose. He had already lost Wukong before, but MK? He's someone neither Macaque or Wukong could bear leaving them (the way they left each other). Like s5 committed so hard in the run motif ("You're the one always running off!"), and MK has been set up to be the one to leave Wukong since like s2.

It's also rare for me to run into another dragonfruit fan!! Tbh it is kinda just the text, but I find them so interesting. Like what if Mei handled the worst parts of Red Son better than he ever did. What if their mentor/mentee dynamic parallels MK and Macaque ("You don't use a weapon, you ARE a weapon! - "Don't use the flame Mei..." "Be the flame!"). What if Red Son knew Mei would stop at nothing to free his parents, the way he stopped at nothing to free her.

But also, what if Red Son was Mei's silly rabbit.

I know some people despise 5x05, but the truth is that Red Son has always been a support character to Mei. Even in AHiB, Mei and Red Son are often singled out together (ilu Mei saving MK and "I'll handle this" scenes). It's more obvious in 1x06 or 1x08, where Mei and Red are both racers and, of course, "Red flames are cool! Want to see some green ones?". RoTSQ focuses entirely on Mei and Red Son's relationship, which is continued into 3x06 and beyond.

Thank you for the rant it was a good read!

#like hi #hello #if you are a fellow sp*cynoodles hater. immediate besties #To me it's like. what if we gave Mei's one unique relationship to MK!!! Wouldn't we all like that!!!#And I'm like no. MK is aro ace he is dragonfruit's paltonic third their bestie leave him be #lmk #lego monkie kid #asks #venihime #lmk analysis #dragonfruit #shadowpeach

31 notes · View notes

flightfoot · 1 year ago

Note

i think you rec fics if i'm wrong i'm so sorry. any fluffy fics with all 4 lovesquare sides? - though just ladynoir/adrienette would work too.

Yep I give those recs! This is actually one of the tricker cases, because on the one hand there's a lot of them and on the other hand they're interwoven with a lot of other things and often don't have specific tags to search with, so I'll see what I can do. I'm mostly just looking for fluff fics that have more than one side of the Lovesquare represented.

I Put A Spell On You by dazaimaru

Friday, October 25. 6 days until Halloween. It’s their first high school Halloween dance, and Marinette and Adrien are ready to throw on some non-superhero costumes for once--that is, until an akumatized witch spoils the party and threatens to reveal what lies underneath everyone’s disguise. With Hawkmoth taking full advantage of the spooky season, the days leading up to Halloween are certainly going to be thrilling! Especially considering Marinette’s growing feelings for a certain black cat…

---

Fate, Destiny... A Hamster by @mostmagical

After finally moving into his very first apartment per Ladybug’s suggestion, Adrien stumbles upon something no movie or TV show could have ever prepared him for: someone else's hamster. At least now there’s an excuse to talk to the new neighbor. (Adrinette Never Met AU)

---

Villainous Matchmaking by @nedjsmlfavs

When Chat Noir is tragically unable to attend an event with Ladybug, the mayor calls in a favor from a designer ‘friend’. Now she’s attending in style, on the arm of the hottest male model in Paris. Which would be fine if it weren’t for one, tiny issue: Paris’ favorite domestic terrorist now knows how Ladybug feels about his son. This leads him to his greatest plan yet, using Ladybug’s extremely obvious crush on Adrien Agreste to akumatize Chat Noir. A Ladrien/“platonic” Ladynoir fic

---

Painted Canvas by @wehadabondingmoment

And then, Adrien would send her a selfie, acting as if he was some secret agent trying to not get caught and he was so ridiculous that Marinette’s heart ached at the thought of being away from him. Hushed phone calls, his voice sounding like honey; in moments like these, she wasn’t Ladybug, only a teenage girl drunk on love. Or: Adrien and Marinette are soulmates and it still takes them years until they finally meet. Also fencing.

---

Professeure (of your love) by @mostmagical

“We should do it.” Her voice came out in a screech. “What?” “Just a fake wedding at graduation,” he said, like it wasn’t completely crazy. . . After ages of letting Paris believe their beloved superheroes are married and in love, Marinette's superhero partner turned fellow teacher wants to apply the same logic to their civilian lives and put on a fake wedding for their students. Only problem is, for Marinette, the being in love part is very much not an act.

---

From School Bells to Wedding Bells by @linnieluna

When the superhero duo takes on another exhausting fight against an akuma, Chat Noir does what he never hesitates to do and takes a hit for his partner. The problem being: neither of them knew what power the akuma possessed. That is... until he is transported into the future. More specifically, to his friend Marinette's wedding.

---

The Power of Love by @nedjsmlfavs

In which Ladybug announces that she’s pregnant via her long term boyfriend and Chat Noir is a supportive partner. After all, he can hardly be upset when he’s been dating his Princess for years! A different take on the show’s tagline (“The Power of Love Always so Strong”) written for Valentine’s day 2023.

---

The Rules of Engagement by underworkedoverwhelmed

When tragedy sends Adrien Agreste racing back to Paris to run his father’s fashion house, Marinette doesn’t expect much from her very new, very rich boss. At least not until she is set up on a blind date with a very familiar face. Much to her surprise, Adrien Agreste was hiding far more secrets behind his stoic business-like mask of temporary CEO. Maybe as many secrets as she had been trying to hide for years. As they grow closer, Marinette fears her mask isn’t nearly as foolproof. Day after day, it gets harder for her to keep all her secrets well hidden from the surprisingly sweet man who insisted on staying by her side as often as possible. Only she couldn’t afford to fail. Not when her biggest secret could spell the end of the job she’d dreamed about for years.

---

Dreams of You by @chocoluckchipz

Dreams had long been his only escape. Dreams of Ladybug, the girl who had always been there for him. If only in his dreams. And only while she was also sleeping. Because with the first rays of sunshine gliding over her skin, with the first fluttering of her eyelashes, from the moment she opened her eyes in the morning, memories of Adrien would vanish from her mind. She would go on living her life. He would always be the only one who remembered. At least until they meet in the real world and fall in love all over again, something that would’ve been easier to do if Adrien wasn't a prisoner in his own home.

---

Tell Me Why You Love Me by @linnieluna

“Anyway, that piece of paper contains the name of this texting app. It’s completely anonymous, so you can download it, make your account with no attachments to your personal life, and communicate with me outside our suits. I included my username on the paper, too, so you can add me once you’re done." Her partner skimmed through the words on the paper and nodded his head. “Brilliant as always, M’lady. I’m surprised we didn’t figure this out sooner within our superhero careers.” “Yeah, it would’ve been nice to have this before, but hey, better late than never. Make sure not to have your phone screen on the messages if you’re going to leave it somewhere. We don’t want anyone reading our texts. Also, this is for emergencies only. No jokes or puns. I can only deal with you for so long.” “I don’t know if I can agree to that last one,” he said. Now 22 and working full-time, Marinette and Adrien seem to be getting busier and busier, which means fewer opportunities to keep track of akumas and show up on time. With the idea of using a messaging app to communicate with each other without revealing their identities, their lives immediately grew to be easier... until it wasn't.

---

Soul Searching by LiquefiedStars

Marinette was devastated when her soulmate turned out to be Adrien Agreste and not her sweet, loving partner Chat Noir. Despite their misunderstandings, she is willing to give Adrien a chance, even if he doesn’t seem all that interested in her. After all, they are soulmates and the universe says they are meant to be together. A Soulmate AU.

---

Love is Blind by @jennagrinsoverml

Tired of all of his potential girlfriends being blinded by his face, his fame and his name, Adrien takes a chance to compete on Love Is Blind: France, where he hopes that dating without seeing each other—or learning each other’s names—will finally help him to be lucky in love. What will he do when he realizes that his Lady is one of the contestants, however? And will he be able to win her heart where he’s never succeeded before? Meanwhile, Marinette is looking to meet the right guy after years of pining away for someone who has only ever seen her as a friend. She’s not entirely sure if she can fall in love with someone without seeing them, but the things that have always mattered to her most are the kinds of things that can’t be seen. What will she do when she realizes her heart is being pulled in two directions? And will she be ready to make a decision in time?

---

Over and Over by stcrsquad

Marinette Dupain-Cheng has had the worst day possible. She's failed to confess to Adrien (again), made an embarrassment of herself, and got into a fight with Chat Noir. Adrien Agreste has had the worst day possible. He is tired of being pushed aside by everyone, including his crime-fighting partner Ladybug. Luckily, fate (and Bunnyx) works in mysterious ways because they wake up again on the same day. A do-over. Except it keeps happening. Can the two figure out what they need to fix to break the loop, or will they be stuck forever?

---

Graine de toi by MireilleTanaka

Ladybug and Chat Noir think they’re close, until they begin waking up in one another’s skin. AU: Adrien is homeschooled, and he and Marinette have never met. Written for Adrinette April 2020, Day 17: Life Swap. The one prompt snowballed into a multi-chapter fic. Loosely inspired by Your Name (Kimi no na wa), but no need to have watched it to read, since there's no actual plot connection except the premise of swapping lives.

---

Knight in Shining Amour by Cakedecorator

Marinette is the daughter of the castle bakers, and she herself is the royal seamstress. She lives her life making clothes, helping her parents, and generally living a simple life. However, she also laments the loss of her childhood friendship with Prince Adrien, and remembers the promise they made when they were five years old. Resigning herself to the reality that she would never be able to marry the prince, and assuming he'd forgotten their promise, Marinette tries to live her life without letting loss get to her. However, her love story begins a new chapter when she's approached by Cat Noir, a debonair new knight in the castle.

---

Evergreen by tanyatakaishi

Everything was gone. The entire cityscape had been obliterated, leaving them in a valley of trees. Blue mountains, peaks dressed in snow, stretched tall in the distance and at their foot lay an array of vineyards, miles wide with no civilization in sight. AKA: two heroes lost alone in the woods with no cheese.

---

Someone to Watch Over Me by @dfcfanfics

Adrien is used to his father taking him for granted and treating him poorly, especially since his mother's disappearance... but it's never been anywhere _near_ this bad before. Between that and trouble at school, his life is in quite the downward spiral. He's been putting on a brave face, but he's struggling... and his friends are starting to notice. One special friend in particular. Marinette is determined to help him, any way that she can -- with _and_ without her mask. But when Akumas fly towards Adrien, he soon finds himself more deeply entwined in Marinette's life AND Ladybug's private life than he'd ever imagined. Can Adrien possibly decide between the two angels who are making his life worth living again? Can Marinette process Adrien's crush on Ladybug AND his growing feelings for her? And can Gabriel stop laughing long enough to launch his master plan? A fluffy DFC - buggachat Ladrienette jam. 10/15: Our story is now complete with the posting of Chapter 24, the epilogue. Thank you so much for reading, as always.

#ask #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ml fanfic rec #adrienette #ladynoir #marichat #ladrien

84 notes · View notes

ficthots · 2 years ago

Text

Blinded

A/N: Okay, this is one of I believe like three fics that I have had like 90% complete for ages and I finally got it done. Set up on a blind date with Josh? Yes, please. Oh and some smut of course, it's me, C'mon. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ Content Only. DNI if under 18. Smut.

Word Count: 7k+

There hits a certain point in life where the once exciting and glamorous life of dating fades away and becomes an utter nuisance. It can happen at different stages of life for everyone. Friends and relatives finding their person early in life and can abruptly halt the dating process by their early twenties. Others play the field throughout their younger years, not in a hurry to settle down with just one person, but end up finding the one when they least expect it.

Now where did that leave you?

Devoid of all hope in the dating pool. That’s where. No one seemed to believe you though when you made claims about being happy with where you stood relationship wise. To most people, you could only be truly happy when you were getting said emotion from another being in which you share every aspect of your soul with.

That sounded like a bunch of mumbo jumbo to you. You were content with just being with yourself despite others claiming it was actually just sad. In actuality it wasn’t sad in the least. Comfortable and content. Able to fully support yourself, in a career you loved, in an apartment you adored. What was there not to love?

According to your best friend Katie, a man to share some time with.

It’s why you were sitting alone at a dimly lit restaurant, sipping a glass of ice water, anxiously waiting for a complete stranger to occupy the open chair across from you. Given, you did arrive fifteen minutes earlier than you needed to, but your “date” was running a bit behind.

Katie swore up and down that this person was going to change your outlook on relationships and how great of a guy he was. Josh. That was the name you were given. The only information you were given.

You were skeptical. First impression was he was running late and in your book that was a big no no. You were raised to always arrive preferably early and in the worst case scenario on time.

Eyes scanning the bustling restaurant, yours settled on a frazzled man standing at the hostess stand, his own eyes blown wide as his gaze settled on your table. Assuming she had informed him how long you had been sitting there, you felt slightly bad for him with how mortified he looked. Offering a small wave and shy smile in his direction, he nervously smoothed down his patterned shirt as he hurried to the table.

“Wow, I am so sorry, there was a major accident on the highway and I wanted to get here early,” you cut him off with a chuckle, the man out of breath from clearly having hustled to get there. “Don’t worry about it, I’m always early, I doubt you’re late at all.”

His smile grew at your obviously generous offer of peace to him. The waiter immediately approached the table, asking for a drink order. When he stated a request for two glasses of wine, you immediately spoke up. “Oh, actually none for me, thank you.” Brow furrowing and smoothing out right after, his cheeks tinted in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” he started, but you again cut him off with a reasonable explanation in hopes to get him to relax. “No, don’t apologize. It’s a school night is all,” realizing as you watched his shocked expression take over his features, you immediately started to speak quickly. “Oh my god, that sounded horrible. I mean I’m a second grade teacher, not that I myself am still in school.”

Feeling heat creep up your neck, he laughed. His hand wiped at imaginary sweat on his brow. “Phew. Had me worried there for a second,” you both laughed at the joke, taking a moment to silently peruse the menu. Small talk filled the quiet space surrounding you two as you both said what looked appetizing.

Politely placing your respective orders, once the safety of your menu was removed, you took a moment to really look at him for the first time as he gave the waiter his order.

His clothes were slightly dressier than his normal attire you assumed given you were on a date. Hair was a bit different than normal. Shaved sides, but a clearly permed updo. Earrings adorning both sides. No tattoos you could visibly see. He was most definitely attractive.

When his attention fully settled on you, he beamed. His entire face lit up with excitement as his eyes fully settled on you for the first time since sitting down. Knowing he was taking you in the way you had just done with him. It had you fighting the urge to nervously fidget.

Deciding to break the ice first, you settled your intertwined hands on the tablecloth, giving a kind smile to the man and clearing your throat. “So, Josh, how do you know Katie?” He mimicked your actions, diving into his recount of their relationship.

“Katie’s partner, Ryan, is very good friends with my twin brother, Jake. Given Jake is my twin, I am also good friends with Ryan, hence me knowing Katie through him.” Mind racing a million miles a minute as you mentally tracked the relationship, he turned the same question to you.

Smiling into your glass as you recalled your time with Katie, adoration for your best friend and her being your safe haven over all of the years. “Well, I met Katie my freshman year of college. She lived directly across the hall from me in the dorms. My roommate and I did not get along and there was one night where she was coming back with laundry, heard us fighting, and took me to her room. She’s been my best friend ever since.”

Josh’s soft smile made your nerves slowly melt away. Despite having just met the man, you had never seen someone listen so intently to your stories. Not even your students. It seemed as though he wanted to keep listening to you because he prompted you once more.

“Okay so you met in college. You’re a second grade teacher, you said. How long have you been doing that? Do you enjoy it?” Heart leaping in your chest at just the thought of talking about your job, you fawned over it.

Immediately diving in, he watched in awe at how much you truly loved your job. “So yeah, I do love it. Given, it’s only my second year having my own classroom, it’s just such a great experience. My first year out of school I was a sub while I took all my exams, but nothing beats having your own room. The kids are great. It’s just fun.” Realizing how long you had been droning on, you felt heat take over your features.

“And it just dawned on me how long I’ve been talking,” you both laugh at your enthusiasm, but he waves it off. “No, it’s great! Trust me, I love hearing about people's passions and what makes them tick.”

Shooting him a grateful smile for being so kind about your babbling, you encouraged him to share as your food was placed in front of you. “Anyways, you’ve probably learned more about me then you ever wanted to so please, your turn. What do you do for work?” Taking a bite of the salad you had ordered, his head slightly fell.

Clearing his throat as he stumbled over his words, your brows furrowed about why he was so nervous to tell you what he did for work. Did he not work? Did he have a horrible job? Live at home with mom and dad?

“I, uh, I’m in a band.” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, mouth slightly falling open. Ah, there it was. “A band, huh?” Trying to feign enthusiasm for his career, he didn’t know you well enough to know that the higher pitch of your voice was you trying to be nice and listen.

Nodding as he finished chewing a bite of his own dish, he spoke again. “Yeah, me and my brothers.” Wow as if it couldn’t be worse, he dragged his poor siblings into that mess. “Siblings? How many siblings do you have?” Trying to get off the topic of his horrid job, you wanted to be able to get through the rest of this dinner.

“Four, okay well technically three, but I count Danny as a brother.” Giving a weary smile, you shook your head, a smile plastered to your features. “Danny?” When it dawned on Josh that you truly had no idea who he was, a breath of relief washed over him.

He dove in, excited to share about all of his siblings, what they all did in the band apart from his sister who you were overjoyed to learn has a real job. Engaging in polite conversation for the remainder of dinner was your goal until you were going to be able to make your escape and annihilate Katie.

As the night wrapped up, Josh paid the bill with no hesitation, escorting you out to your car and offering you a good night. He claimed he had a blast with you and honestly you had as well until you learned about his job choice. You needed to be with someone who had a stable job, not someone who was going around parading that he was in some band with his brothers.

How embarrassing, you thought to yourself as you drove home.

Katie was at your apartment first thing on Saturday, ready to hear all the juicy details about how the evening had gone. “Okay, spill! Did you like him? Did you fall in love?” Her funny accent on the last word had you rolling your eyes, sipping on your coffee she had brought.

“You’re an ass first of all,” you started with. Her face fell into a puzzled expression, not understanding what the problem was. “What? Why?” Looking at her like she had two heads, she was clueless as to why you were irritated with her.

Leaning forward and placing your coffee on the table, you stared her down. “Katie, look I get that you think my love life is in desperate need of repair, but setting me up with a fucking loser is where I draw the line.” Her jaw fell slack, eyes nearly bulging out of her head.

“I don’t understand! What happened? What did he do?” Crossing your arms, you leaned back on your couch. “It’s what he doesn’t do. He’s in a band for a living, Katie! The man doesn’t even have a real job! I mean him alone is one thing, but to rope his brothers into that mess, too? His poor parents.”

Sipping your drink, you jumped when her cackle echoed off the walls. She was clutching her stomach, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m glad you think it’s hilarious, but I am offended.” As she calmed down, she took her phone from her pocket.

“Birdie, did he tell you his band name?” You tried to recall, knowing he had, but you were more interested in your dinner than him at that point. “I mean, yeah, but it was weird.” Flipping her screen to show you, there he was on a Spotify page with his siblings.

You were fairly certain your eyes fell out of your skull when you saw their monthly listener amount was over five million. Immediately going to her Instagram, you saw their band page had over a million followers, his face plastered all over the page.

Putting your head in your hands, you felt nauseous as she continued to cackle next to you. “You’ve got to be kidding me. What the hell is the matter with you?” Grabbing the throw pillow from behind your back, you repeatedly hit her with it.

“What? What did I do?” She asked as you stood, beginning to pace in your living room. “You couldn’t have given me a heads up? Instead you just put me in the lion's den with an actual celebrity!” She shrugged at your words. “If I did tell you, you wouldn’t have gone.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, feeling a migraine coming on. Replaying everything you had told him and embarrassment pummeling you as you replayed the events from the other night. “Still think he’s a loser, birdie?”

Silently shaking your head, your gaze panned to her, worry on your features. “Yeah no, he thinks I’m the loser for sure. He probably thinks I’m the most boring person in the entire world.” Her lips sucked into her mouth, beginning to ask her questions.

“Tell him you’re a teacher?” One nod. “How your main hobby is being the neighborhood bird lady?” Another nod. “And how you have a hobby slash craft bag with you at all times?” A final nod. She offered a shrug, a smile peeking on her lips.

You couldn’t have been more mortified with how the date had gone. Honestly, it was the worst case scenario in your book. You were one hundred percent positive you were never going to hear from him again.

Until Katie called you on your lunch break the following Monday. “Josh is totally in love with you!” She offered no other greeting apart from her exclamation, causing you to nearly choke on your sandwich.

Setting it down on your desk, you swallowed your bite, wiping your mouth with your napkin. “What? What are you talking about?” She immediately spewed all the information she had. According to her and Ryan, the night he got home from the date he dished out to Jake how smitten he was with you. How taken he was with you. That he wanted another date immediately.

Sitting in total shock, she texted you his contact information and there it sat, staring at you as you got off the call with her. Katie said she didn’t want to set up the next date, that the ball was entirely in your court. If you want to go out with him again, text him. If not, ignore it and delete it from your phone.

Gnawing on your lip, you sat on it for the rest of the school day. When you got home, you thought about it some more. Finally deciding, what the hell there was nothing to lose, you sent him a basic message.

Not expecting a response from him that night, let alone at all, you were floored when your phone immediately dinged with a response. That was just the beginning.

You had never been on your phone as much as you were in the two weeks following your first text to him. It was constant back and forth, postponing your next date because of his travel plans and him knowing how you really did not enjoy going out on school nights, which he thought was adorable.

When you finally were able to see him again, it was in an entirely different setting. With Katie standing next to you, Ryan to her other side, you were watching the show of a lifetime. Being able to hear him sing and perform the way he was able to was heartstopping. He and his brothers were so talented it was hard to fathom how much they had done to get to this point.

It was one of the best nights you had ever had. Seriously, it was unlike anything you had ever seen before which was sparse to begin with, but now had set a standard you didn’t even know existed.

Wobbling in nerves and excitement to see him following the conclusion of the show, you were overjoyed when he appeared. His expression was ten times more excited than yours which was saying a lot based on how you were currently feeling.

Sweeping you into a big hug, you laughed as he spun you around lightly. It was just you two in this wing of the tunnel, him saying this was the only area where you would have a moment of peace. “Birdie! What did you think of the show? No, wait, don't tell me yet. You can tell me at dinner after. Do you want to go get dinner? Everyones dying to meet you, so maybe after that, yeah?”

He was speaking so quickly, you could only imagine how fast paced his own thoughts were. Only able to nod in somewhat understanding before he dragged you away, your stomach was a mess of butterflies as his cold hand enclosed with yours, leading you in the correct direction.

After a tiresome round of introductions, telling everyone how much you enjoyed the show, stating it was a pleasure meeting everyone, you finally had some quiet reprieve. Sitting in a diner booth, Josh opposite you, sharing fries and a shake, you giggled as he told you how nervous he was for the show tonight knowing you were watching.

As you went to gush about another part of the spectacle that you enjoyed you were interrupted by a group approaching your table. “Hi, we’re so sorry to bug you two, but we were just at your show! We are huge huge fans. Can we get some pictures and an autograph?” The group squealed as Josh slid out of the booth, engaging in easy chatter with them as he signed various things, took a bunch of photos and selfies, taking an extra minute to speak, reality set in.

Josh was a celebrity. He wasn’t just some guy that Katie had set you up with. No, he was an entire public entity that you really didn’t comprehend until just then. Sitting silently in a booth as he took fifteen to twenty minutes to engage with fans. It was amazing that he was so wonderful with them, but as each minute ticked by it was another minute of silent thought.

Of realizing that if you dated him or continued dating him, this was going to be your norm. A world you didn’t understand. One where you weren’t sure you were entirely comfortable with being approached on a night out time and time again while trying to enjoy some much needed time together.

A stone sat in the bottom of your stomach, forcing a smile back on your face as he finally sat back down. He didn’t ask outright what was wrong, but he noticed the mood change almost immediately despite how well you were playing it off.

There it went. The possibility of a great relationship with a guy who you knew you would have some amazing potential with. Why couldn’t things ever go your way?

That night as Josh dropped you off at your apartment, you told him that. How you weren’t sure this was a lifestyle you could live with and be comfortable with. Losing all sense of privacy because of who your partner was.

Despite how sad your confession made him, Josh understood. This life was not for everyone. Did that mean he was going to stop talking to you? Absolutely not. You were elated when he asked if he could at least maintain a friendship with you.

Katie on the other hand needed more convincing. She knew how well you two got along, so ending a chance of a romantic relationship boggled her mind entirely. “It’s too much. It’s wildly intimidating. I can’t be in the public eye like that, Katie. That’s just not for me,” you told her on the phone during another lunch break.

She sighed on the other end of the call. “No, no, I get that, I do. But I don’t know, I just feel like there could be something with you two.” When you remained quiet for a beat too long, she knew you were thinking the same thing.

Little did you know, this was just the start. The start of what you may ask? The endless pursuit Josh was about to be on to get you to change your mind. He wasn’t going to pressure you, but he was certain that if he could get you to spend enough time with him, it was going to be a piece of cake.

It’s why you agreed to open your home to him on a Friday night as you graded this past week's homework packets. Claiming on the phone when he asked to come over that you were engrossed with work and how easy it was to fall behind if you didn’t get things like this done immediately. He didn’t mind.

In fact, he said it was perfect. How he had work he needed to get done as well and you two could enjoy one another's company as you worked side by side. He also assured you that he would provide takeout for the evening because you cannot work on an empty stomach. That’s how you ended up on one end of the sofa and him on the other, legs brushing against each other as you extended them out on the couch.

A quiet chuckle left your mouth as you reached page five in one student's packet. Josh’s head immediately looked up in your direction, one of the first words spoken all evening. “What’s so funny?” Flipping the packet over so he could see, his brow furrowed in confusion as to what he was looking at.

“The assignment was to draw a character from one of their books on their reading log this week. She read Junie B. Jones and that is supposed to be Junie herself,” snorting as his jaw fell slack, he tried to play it off. “Well,” he flipped back to the front page before going back, “Stacy here has quite the imagination. Really took some creative liberty, huh?”

Before long, you and Josh were on the same side of the couch, going through each packet and seeing how your other students had done with their drawings. His commentary is what really had you bursting at the seams, hand clutching your stomach from the cramps that were happening.

He took another bite of his spring roll as he finally caught his breath. “Oh god, you would love Steven. Seriously, he is such a talented boy. He’s been doing figure skating since he was three and man he has such an energy around him, it’s amazing to see.” Josh’s smile lit up his face, seeing how much you knew about your students and how you truly cared for them.

As you two finished working for the night and wrapped up, Josh left your home that evening having fallen for you even more. How that was even possible, he had no clue, but he had. It was frustrating. His entire plan revolved around him getting you to fall for him, but each time you spent time together he felt himself slipping more and more for you.

You would never admit it to him outright, but when he told you he was going to be gone for the next two weeks for work things he had to handle, you were sad. Over the previous weeks, you two had been spending quite a bit of time together.

Getting used to him being around, even on school nights, was not helping your case. Having to remind yourself why you weren’t with him to begin with was becoming more and more difficult as time went on. Especially because you didn’t see him in that context ninety-nine percent of the time, it was easy to fall for just Josh. Not the Josh who was the frontman for a globally known rock band.

Him being gone for a couple of weeks was like being splashed with cold water. Drenching you in the reality of who he was and what his career entailed. It was easy to forget all of that when he helped you grade science projects and shopped for craft supplies with you.

What didn’t help was how often you two kept in contact while he was gone. It was torture being up in front of your students and knowing your phone was buzzing up a storm in your top desk drawer and having to wait until recess break to respond.

Katie thought it was adorable. Confessing to her more than once that your feelings were becoming too much too fast, she told you to lean into them. To forget the main aspect of who Josh was and to just focus on the man he was when he was with you. It was easy to follow that advice and honestly you did. Yet, when something for his band would pop up it was a slap in the face to the reality of the situation.

When he finally returned home after his prolonged absence, you were over the moon when he picked you up for dinner on the night of his return. Rushing out to his car, he was waiting for you on the passenger side, sweeping you into a huge embrace.

“There’s my birdie girl,” he spoke softly into your hair, arms wrapped so tightly around your waist it would’ve hurt with anyone else, but not Josh. All doubts and worries seemingly melting away at that moment.

As you sat in the passenger seat and he drove you to your location, you knew you needed to play this better. As you arrived at your location, Josh having filled you in on the details of his trip on the way, you narrowed your eyes at the building.

“This is awfully date like, Josh,” you spoke, but he waved you off immediately. “Absolutely not,” you two walked in the front doors together and were greeted by the typical look of a dive bar, a small bowling alley in the back.

Sitting at a high top table, he sighed, a big grin on his face as his dagger earring swayed from his movement. “I would never take a date here. A friend, though? Absolutely,” shrugging and playing into his game, you perused the menu. “Well then since we’re friends you won’t mind seeing me eat then.”

Josh’s smile only grew at your words, accepting the challenge you were putting out to him. As the waitress approached your small two top table, you immediately placed your order. “I would like a Coors Banquet, your double bacon cheeseburger with no lettuce or onion, the loaded garlic fries, and,” you trailed off at the end, looking over the dessert menu, “oh, and once I’ve finished that, a slice of your New York cheesecake.”

Giving her a large smile as you handed the menu over, you turned to Josh to see him grinning. “Just a veggie burger with sweet potato fries and I will also have a Coors Banquet,” he handed her the menu, thanking her by name and eyeing you. “Surprised you’re drinking tonight,” he said as he tied his straw wrapper into a knot.

Offering a shrug, your chin tipped high. “It’s Friday, I’m allowed one.” As you two waited for your order, you told Josh all about how your school week had been. “I’m just so stressed about it because Mrs. Thompson in the front office is making such a big deal about field day for my class and I have it under control, but she is really pressuring me about getting more chaperones. I already have three, which is more than the other lower grade classes have. I know she’s just pressuring me because I’m the youngest, but it’s stressful.”

He listened as you vented, but spoke up right away. “I’ll chaperone. Hell, I might even be able to get my brothers to do it, too.” You shook your head. “No, I don’t want you to do that. No one wants to volunteer their free time to go watch and help with booths for a bunch of kids they don’t even know.”

Rolling his eyes, his tongue darted out to wet his lips before taking a swig of his beer. “Fine then just me. Let me help you. You’ve been talking about how stressed you are for field day nonstop for weeks. I can help, birdie, really and I’d like to.” Sitting in quiet thought for a moment, you gave in.

“Really?” His hands enclosed around yours on the tabletop. “Absolutely.” Feeling a smile take over your face, your food was placed in front of you moments after. You both demolished your food, hungrier than you even realized, but Josh was eyeing the bowling alley.

Seeing where his eyes kept darting to, you gave in. “Fine, we will play one game!” Needing something to sweeten the deal, you both bet on the loser having to pick up the check. What Josh did not expect was you to be a borderline professional bowler.

As he stared at the screen and the massive points difference, you smiled triumphantly. “Did I ever tell you that I did bowling in high school, did a league with my grandparents, and nearly accepted a college scholarship for bowling?” He whirled around, shock taking over his face.

“You hustled me! You’re a hustler.” Reaching behind you and grabbing the check off the table, you extended it towards him. “Maybe, maybe not. I believe this belongs to you, sir.” He snatched it from your hands, leaving cash before dragging you out of his favorite place.

When you arrived back at your apartment, you sat in his car, seeing him eye you. “What’re you doing for the weekend?” You sighed, grabbing your list from your purse. “Craft shopping. Need to get a jump on field day.”

Without you having to ask, he grabbed his own phone and you watched as he canceled plans with other friends. “Okay, I’ll pick you up tomorrow at ten, sound good?” You couldn’t fight the smile taking over your face.

Leaning over the center console, you gave him a small peck on the cheek. “Yeah, thanks, Joshy.” As you got out of the car and spared one glance at him, his face was beat red. A small chuckle escaped your throat as you headed inside.

The amount of time you and Josh were spending together was growing exponentially. It was rare when there was a time he wasn’t near or around you. His siblings knew that if he were MIA and they called nine times out of ten, he was going to be with you.

Whether it was being at your apartment nightly to do “work”, sitting in your classroom with you for lunch, going out to dinner every weekend, it never failed that he was with you. It was becoming normal for you to expect him to be around, too. Knowing it was going to like clockwork, he would show up at your classroom door at 11:09 at least once a week, lunch in hand.

The office ladies knew him so well now that when he would show up, his guest name tag was already filled out, and the front door unlocked for him to go through. It wasn’t rare for him to have a little treat for them as well.

What was getting old was the constant bombardment of opinions from everyone. Your coworkers, Katie and Ryan, your parents, even Josh’s siblings were all pushing for the relationship to actually happen. It didn’t matter what excuse you gave them, it wasn’t good enough.

It was getting harder to make yourself believe them, too. Your initial reasoning was beginning to fade, trying to make yourself see that the Josh that was a public figure wasn’t around you very often if at all. It was also worth noting that it was because they were on a small recovery session between albums and tours.

Knowing that in just a month's time he was going to be fully embedded in that world again was sitting heavy on your chest. These feelings that you have never experienced with or for someone else were intense, but it was difficult wrapping your head around the idea that he was going to be snapping into a different persona soon.

Sooner than you wanted.

Instead, you opted to soak up the time you did have with him. In any way you could. Which was why you were sitting in his massive home, watching him clean up his kitchen after having cooked you one of the best meals you had ever eaten in your life. Since it was a Saturday night, you were three glasses of wine deep since your arrival, getting ready to pour yourself a fourth.

A smirk appeared on your lips as Josh denied topping your glass off for another time. “What, afraid you’ll get me too drunk?” His cheeks pinkened at your words, immediately shaking his head. “No, no, of course not. Can’t believe you would assume such a thing.” He scoffed, making you chuckle into your nearly empty glass.

Watching him as he fidgeted on his end of the couch, within touching distance if you would just stretch your hand out. Feeling the softness of his curls twine into your fingers. The warmth radiating from his neck as your lips trailed along his rapidly beating pulse.

Perhaps it was the liquid courage, but you were wiggling in your seat. The thick seam of your jeans pushing just right on your aching core if you could move in the correct fashion. You were far too gone to notice how entirely obvious you were being, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

All your thoughts were centered around how Josh’s veiny hands were trying to mask the growing bulge in his already too short khaki shorts. How you were quite certain if you leaned forward ever so slightly and if he had himself positioned right, you would be able to see his weeping tip resting against his thigh.

Setting your glass on his coffee table, you inched closer to him. What you didn’t realize was that without noticing it, you were practically on his lap as is. Which is why he was beat red, sweat beginning to glisten on his brow, a slight tremble in his hands that failed to mask his clear arousal.

Your hands were already in his locks, tugging ever so often, a cascade of whimpers sounding from the back of his throat. Eyes struggling to remain open and focused on whatever program you had long forgotten about.

“Do you like this, Joshy? Being touched?” Your hand softly glided over his cloth covered erection, him putting up no fight to block your advances. His adam’s apple bobbed at your words, surprised that you were so willing to take control like this.

Cupping your hand around him, a moan escaped in a breath between his teeth. “Very impressive if I do say so myself.” You murmured into his ear, but he couldn’t respond in words. Unable to form even a semblance of a cohesive thought.

Lips being continuously moistened as his tongue darted out repeatedly, almost a nervous tick you memorized. Finally catching it right, you leaned in, capturing his tongue in your own mouth. Josh put up no fight, immediately letting you forcefully put your lips on his.

In a hurried mess of removing clothing, not having moved an inch from your positions on the couch, you both sat naked, sweat glistened bodies colliding together. Your hips writhed on his, forcing you to continue your movements, chasing your releases.

Hands digging into his shoulder blades, fingers tightly holding onto the curls at the nape of his neck, feeling him nestled deep inside you in a way you couldn’t recall ever feeling before. His mouth ever chasing your own and your tits that bounced in his face with every movement you made.

His own hands left imprints deep on your ass cheeks, bruising indentations. As you felt your orgasm slam into you, your body shook with force. Josh’s arms wrapped securely around you to keep you upright, he having finished just moments before.

The rest of the evening was spent tangled with one another on the sofa, under a blanket that had been draped over the back of his cushion. Worth more than you probably saw in three months paychecks, but for this fleeting moment you let yourself fall into the ideas.

Of what might be able to be. Seeing his blushy cheeks as he peered down at you from above, a smile never falling, fingers tracing every inch of you they could. Falling asleep right next to each other, him pressed tightly against your bare back, arm draped over you.

The tv drowning out any noise for the remainder of your time. What you tried to get off your mind was the quiet conversation had occurred. Where Josh had asked you why not.

Why not give this a try? Why not be together for real? Why continue to deal with this ridiculous attempt at friendship? Your response hadn't been what he was expecting.

That the reason why was because you were intimidated. Not by him, you had clarified, but by his life. That you were terrified of his entire world. Not sure you were up for that task.

He had dropped it immediately despite how sad it made him feel. Letting you get rest for the remainder of the evening. You left the next morning before Josh woke up.

After what had happened you and Josh had hardly spoken. Terrified that what progress you had made with him as a friend had gone out the window diminished when you saw him appear at your classroom door early on field day morning.

To make it better, adorning the t-shirt he had told you he would never be caught dead wearing on the off chance it could leak to the media. It would ruin his cool guy reputation he claimed. You had only rolled your eyes in response, but now you felt tears welling in them instead.

“You came,” you sniffled as he tilted his head at you. “Of course I did. I would never let my favorite teacher down. In case you didn’t know, I was a teacher's pet during my time in school and that never leaves you even as you grow up.” You wiped at your eyes, not believing him.

“Really?” He shook his head, bottom lip pushing out. “Not at all, but I’m trying to get brownie points here so work with me.” You both laughed and you couldn’t help yourself as you crossed the room, throwing yourself into a tight embrace.

His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back before pulling back wiping at your eyes. “Alright, no more tears. Don’t need the kids seeing you a mess. Where do you need me, birdie?” A large smile took over your face as you turned and began giving directions.

The entire day while tiresome went off without a hitch. Every booth was packed with kids of all ages, prizes awarded, games played, and a wonderful close to the school year. Even though you had been more than occupied all day, you couldn’t help but look over to Josh every chance you could.

Seeing him interact with your students and kids of all ages had your stomach in a mess of butterflies. He was a natural with them. It wasn’t long before other students were asking him to help with their activities or be their partner for different challenges and games.

He took it in stride, letting them pull him in a million different directions. You could tell as the day came to a close, all booths packed and cleaned, sorting items in your classroom that he was exhausted, but still had that signature Josh smile on his face.

“Okay, it was your first field day. How’re you feeling?” You asked, putting empty glitter pens in the trash. A long sigh escaped his lips, leaning against one of the open desks. “I don’t know how you do this everyday. You are a saint.” You laughed with a shrug.

“Eh, it’s not so bad. It’s the end of the school year so they have an energy they typically don’t during the year. It’s fun seeing how much they’ve grown in just a handful of months though. Kids are amazing,” Josh spoke up right after.

“No, you’re amazing. They wouldn’t be growing like that if it weren’t for the superheroes you guys truly are. It’s all you guys,” you felt pride shoot through your veins at his statement. Murmuring a small thank you at his kind words, you finished your task.

Clearing your throat, you knew it was now or never. “You know, I did hear a rumor today.” His eyebrows show up, quickly glancing up at you as he wiped down desks. “Oh yeah?” You gave back a head nod. “Yeah. Something about a teacher having a crush on one of the chaperones.”

Josh stopped wiping the desk, standing upright and crossing his arms over his chest. “Is that so? Cause I heard a rumor during the three-legged race that one of the chaperones has a crush on a certain teacher.”

Playing along, you leaned back against your own desk as he slowly crossed the room to you. “Is that so?” His expressive facial expressions had you giggling. “Totally. Apparently, and this is just rumors,” you cut him off, “Of course.” He chuckled, still moving towards you. “Apparently, he’s been chasing her for months now.”

Feigning surprise, you continued. “Months you say?” He nods, earrings moving with his movements. “Months. Ever since their first date and even though she keeps trying to push him away he just keeps falling harder for her each time.”

A sad, but soft smile adorns your lips. His hands find home on your hips, pulling you towards him. “Maybe it’s because she’s insecure about who she’s with. She’s a teacher who makes dirt for money, spends all of her time with seven and eight year olds, and is a self proclaimed neighborhood bird lady.”

His head tips back as he laughs, adams apple bobbing. “Well then it’s a good thing I make good money, I basically am a seven or eight year old depending on who you ask, and love that you’re the bird lady.”

Her eyes narrow as she wraps her arms around his neck. “You’ll have to help me here, Josh. Really, I feel like I’m getting in over my head.” He quells your worries right there as he pulls you to him, lips connecting in a soft kiss.

“Don’t worry, I can teach you a thing or two about this if you can help me with my times tables.” You fall into a mess of laughter, but the tint on his cheeks lets you know he’s serious. “No, really. When we were grading their homework packets it was embarrassing how often I had to use my calculator.”

Nodding, your head nudges to your desk. “I have some spares for you to practice on.” He laughs, head falling forward as he does.

“Okay good. Just don’t let Sam see them. He’ll never let me live it down.”

314 notes · View notes