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shaisuki · 5 months ago

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❝ SOME EFFORTS. ❞

✞ FEATURING. BULLY! GOJO SATORU AND GETO SUGURU

▶SERIES MASTERLIST

CONTENT WARNINGS. mentions of past abuse.

NOTES. got sidetracked by requests and i didn't really put up with this chap. apologies. i swear i only update when someone asks if i'm still continuing this fic.

SYNOPSIS. the awaited date and some memories ruins it for you.

the bistro was filled with numerous chatters. coming from patrons and customers alike. conversations over good food and the small laughter coming from them. surrounded by the warm glow of the lights like sun rays but more subdued. hitting the wooden interior with its soft light. creating a more laid-back atmosphere where everyone can wine and dine.

you were still on guard. geto sees how you scanned the room more than twice. avoiding eye contact at him and twiddling your fingers in the smallest of manner. he knows you were still wary of him. a bully or a former bully. it sets a bitter taste to his tongue. the knowledge of being one of your tormentors and realizing it later in life how he deeply regretted for hurting you.

he's not his former self anymore. he tells to himself. this date where you reluctantly accepted after many times of convincing you. saying that he'll make up all the years of the misery he caused. proving to you that he's no longer that person who causes you tears and pain but is it when he sees you. sitting across from each other with your gaze who couldn't even look at him and your withdrawn hands not making it nearer to where his rests.

“look at me.” there's tinge of authority in his voice but gentle when he spoke to you. it was like coaxing you to go outside of your box. “can't we unless talk?” rich coming from him who can make you say the filthiest of words while he used to torment you.

“i guess.” you briefly muttered. gathering every nerve to your body to look at him and you die a little bit inside how similar his eyes to his. a complete copy of him but you shake the thoughts. it was just you and him. “thank you for taking me out here.” your eyes briefly landing at the small frame pinned at the door.

a bit distracted and intimidated. gripping your cup filled with tea to prevent from squirming to much. it's not like everyday your former bully would invite least asks you for date. you were reluctant of course but geto is persistent to get what he wants and it earned you.

he picks good. the place didn't scream high-end or some posh place that their menus didn't have a price and the bill ending up as a month's worth of salary.

a ghost of a smile etched in his face at your response. there it is. what he has been waiting for. geto can't help but to admire you. the same round face that used to look at him. there's the softness in it and something new. perhaps determination? he can guess but nonetheless it isn't the time to guess what you're made of now. you've changed just like he is.

before any of you can continue, the waiter arrived with the food you both ordered. placing the plates in front of you and bids you both to have a nice meal.

you began to eat. taking a spoonful of the food and chewing softly. surprised that you managed to work an appetite despite how guarded you feel around him. “you and gojo fucked me up, literally and metaphorically.” you paused in between bites before continuing. “but you two never made me feel bad about eating. i'm kind of glad for that.”

shrugging as you placed your utensils down. taking sip of your beverage. your relationship with food was kind of rocky around in the edges. you never ate in public. afraid of the stares and judgement that strangers give to you when eating and never in front of someone. let alone as cruel as gojo and geto. surprisingly they never made you feel bad about it and encouraged you to eat with them when they're particularly in a good mood. often going as far hand feeding you.

you didn't beat around the bush and geto applauded you for that. it often got you in trouble when you talked back and defy them when you won't do a particular thing they want you to. they were such an asshole to you. “you look happy when you eat. simple gestures like that is hard to come by.”

pouring the creamer in his cup of coffee and adding two sugar cubes. geto stirs it with a spoon. he finds you looking at it. his large hand dwarfing the cup and it was like a teacup rather than a coffee cup.

“is it?” pausing and trying to sink in what he said. somehow your lips curved into a smile. it was rather a pained one. “and you, gojo would take pleasure in hurting me afterwards.” now, you killed the mood. the food gone bland in your mouth. feeling like your eating nails. the memories came flooding and it just made you ache in places. a phantom pain.

putting down your utensils down. your appetite's lost. everything's heavy now just like it was in the first time.

geto freezes at your words. it was like a punch in his gut. you were still stuck at that time but you never made it seem like it affected you and you were doing it just to make thing seems right. for his own comfort.

a pang of guilt hits in his chest. seeing you hung your head low and blinking back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. he hears you mutter an apology.

he stands up. grabbing the back of his chair and placing it besides you. “hey, it's fine. it was never your fault.” he says, holding your cheek in his hand and forcing you to look at him. “it's been years, sugu. why does it still hurt?” you asked him. peering through your blurred vision of tears pooling at the corner of your eyes. you could have pushed him. recoiled at his touch and when you leaned in. giving up to his touch — you asked yourself why? and you understand it. why some people come back even though they were hurt by the same person and you weren't any different from them cause the best comfort will always come to the one who had hurt you the most.

a stray tear rolls down your cheek. suguru was quick to wipe it with his thumb gentle. cradling your face in his one hand. he looks at you and there wasn't any emotion shown in his face except for the conflicting emotions inside him. pain? guilt? and new emotions he never felt mixes with it and the more he stays with you, the more he feels all of it.

geto wasn't anything remorseful for what he had done. he and gojo had their fun playing around with you and what happened after that night — you disappearing without a trace and shoko's warnings that they shouldn't interfere with your life anymore despite the circumstances that you were working for both of them.

he did fucked you up and reduced you to this mess. the younger him would relish over it but seeing your tear-stained face. he felt worst. everything since you came back is forced. always driving you to a corner and if he really wants to build his relationship with you again. he have to change and he's willing to make it.

the weather's warm. with the slight breeze of wind sweeping throughout the park. the scent of the sakura blossoms wafts in the open air. after that little breakdown of yours earlier. geto decided that you need a breath of fresh air and the park is where he took you.

both of you remained silent. you in the most part. embarrassed at the sudden burst of emotions and thinking that you ruined the supposed date. “i'm sorry.” you softly muttered. glancing at the man besides you.

strands of his hair danced along the rhythm of the wind. he only hums. slowly inching his hands towards you. holding your hands in his. “don't apologize.” reveling in the softness of your hands in his and suguru's mind drifts for a minute. marveling at the sight of your hand in his. if things were just normal and he pursued you in a much kinder approach — is this how you two will be? except for the part where he's the reason why you suffered at his hands.

“i shouldn't have said that.” meeting his gaze and you suddenly felt bothered. “you were making it up to me and i ruined it.” blinking and biting your lower lip in guilt. you should have never brought it up.

geto sighs. he swipes his thumb in your knuckles. the gesture sweet and intimate with gentleness in their touch. “you didn't ruin it. i should thank you for accepting that date. it was pleasant to talk to you about things.....” his words trailed off. referring to what happened three years ago.

you only nod.

“can we start again?” your former bully eyes widened at your suggestion. “no talks of the past and all? just us two adults as friends?” and you have that effect on him. geto isn't easily swayed. it was the opposite he's the one that should be doing this and here you are.

there is no need to know what was his answer. it was a yes. without hesitation.

it was hard to tear his gaze off away from you. despite the earlier dilemma of your sudden outburst everything was going fine after that. you were just eating but why do you look so alluring. your cheeks puffing up in a manner while you ate.

“is something the matter, sugu?” pausing to glance at him and he reached to wipe the cream in the corner of your lip before licking it off with his tongue. your face burns in embarrassment at what he had done before looking away. clutching the hem of your sweater and ignoring the sudden rise of your heartbeat. face warming at the gesture.

geto chuckles at your reaction. his eyes narrowing and his pupils dilating. it is known that there is still the attraction lingering in your body after all the years you're away from them. too used to their touch that your own responds without the will coming from you.

it's going to be sweeter this time pursuing you.

gojo was running impatient.

he has been waiting all day. wondering what happened to the date suguru had scored with you and he did get the full detail of it. geto smirks triumphantly in front of him and gojo felt an annoyance towards him.

“she won't even glance at me, suguru.” he sighs exasperated. running his hand in his hair out of frustration.

“she knows you're in a committed relationship. you're engaged and to sayuri. don't compare (y/n) to your ex-flings and sayuri. she won't do anything that would jeopardize a relationship because of her.” geto explains. he knows all of it. girls didn't care about the others when they really liked someone and when he got the gist of you working under satoru. he quite abandoned the thought of other women. fully commiting to you. trying to get back to your life and make you his.

gojo scoffs. “what's your plan, suguru?” his blue eyes glinting behind his glasses. there's been change of plans. he's not going to woo you anymore. he's going to pursue you.

“nothing really.” he lied. “i know (y/n)'s going to give in to me. anytime if i played my cards right. you should know we're not the only men in her life. we don't know what really happened to her life the last three years.” he didn't lie on that part. geto knows someone in your life is trying to also pursue you. one that you owed deeply.

his friend remained silent. taking a long sigh before going back to his desk. he can hear the cogs running in his brain right now. he's out of it and he just can focus to you and only you. he didn't need to drag his ass to gojo even it was planned from the start that they would have you.

guess he's not sharing you to him.

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macfrog · 10 months ago

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twin flame sex on fire chapter eleven

thank you all for being so patient and kind, and loving this story no matter how terribly long i take with it. anyway, here's wonderwall. (shout out to @bageldaddy who saved this on numerous occasions lmao)

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: doing it with a broken heart is harder than it looks.

warnings: age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), workplace relationship, imbalance of power dynamic, reader's a Real Tough Kid she can (not) Handle Her Shit, kale!!!!!!, alcohol consumption, cursing, soft!joel, fluff and angst. angst angst angst angst

word count: 7.7k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 💚

Five days lasts a year.

So it feels, anyway, when you spot Martha from the corner of your eye – pulling her coat on and hooking her purse over her shoulder. She tucks her peroxide blonde layers behind her ears, gives one last check of her makeup in a compact mirror, and looks up.

“You coming?”

It’s five thirty on Friday. You haven’t said more than two words to Joel since you walked out on him, Monday morning.

She knows by now – Martha. Or at least, she has a pretty good idea.

You haven’t told her, as if you’d even be able to begin explaining it all. But she pieced it together by herself, didn’t she? You’re hardly subtle. She figured you out less than five minutes after you stormed out of his office, fists balled and face tight with rage.

She says your name, and the sound is muffled. Distorted by the sour backwash of that feeling: the hot temper which dissipated so quickly into an ache behind your ribs all day.

You finally look up. “Huh?”

She fixes the collar on her trench coat. Flattens her thin, merlot lips and says, “Let’s go, kid. It’s been a long week.”

And that, you think, might just be the understatement of the fucking year.

She slips her arm through yours in the elevator, and you don’t protest. It’s not like she’d let you go even if you tried to shake her off – but there’s a comfort to it. Something sweet; soft and motherly. Martha’s not often this affectionate.

You want to slot your cheek on her shoulder. Ask her how long her worst heartbreak lasted. Ask if that’s even what this is, if you can give a two-month hurricane of sex and secrets enough power to split you open this badly.

Ask her how long until the gnawing in your chest eases. How long until you’re finally able to look at him again, without wanting to cuss him out – or run into his arms.

But you stare ahead, swaying with the dropping elevator, wrap your arms tight around yourself and swallow shallow breaths of her rosy perfume.

Your reflection splits in two, pulled apart by the rumble of the doors. Something akin to a growl from between Martha’s teeth.

The skeleton of the lobby sears behind your eyes, every surface bleeding gold. Silver arrows of rain pelt against the windows, slicing through the blazing sunlight. Dark figures shake umbrellas open at the doors; others yank their collars over their heads as they run to cars.

A gaggle of square suits separates to let you pass, black material shining and soaked through. Nodding to both of you, your names dripping from their lips as they load into the elevator.

Under the canopy outside, Martha hoists her purse over her head.

“Monday then?” she yells over the drumming rain. And without waiting for an answer – because she isn’t so much asking as she is telling – she totters off through the drizzle towards Alan’s Volvo.

One last glance over her shoulder, a wink as her six-inch heels swing into the car. Like a Bond girl, off to wrangle her preteen into eating his vegetables.

You call a cab, leaning against the building to watch the clouds roll overhead.

Two words. That’s all you’ve managed to force over your tongue.

Sure and okay. Both uttered between teeth, as though your body might be trying to hold them back. Mundane and fucking meaningless; pushing by everything else you want so desperately for Joel to hear. How could you? Why would you? I think I hate you, you know that?

I hate you and I miss you so much that it makes me hate you all over again for it.

He’s doing as you asked, at least. He’s following your rules. No looking, no touching, no talking.

To a point.

He is still talking – saying a little more to you than you are to him. You’re allowing it, given that he is still your boss and they’re only ever boss things to say. Schedule this meeting, look out that old file. Pick up his drycleaning when it’s mid-afternoon and he spots your boredom from across the office.

But he never comes near.

Not anymore.

He doesn’t brush by, stealing a giggle when his elbow nudges your waist. He doesn’t order you lunch, then wait until you’re sat opposite him in his office to eat together.

He doesn’t kiss you as soon as the elevator doors close. He doesn’t perch on the edge of your desk to steal snacks and gossip with you and Martha. He doesn’t play with your hand, he doesn’t hold you by the hips, he doesn’t whisper dirty jokes and sweet nothings in your ear.

He keeps his distance. He acts like your boss again.

And – Jesus. You’ve never wanted to hate him so much in your life.

“Waitin’ for a cab?”

“Shit –” You twirl, rain flicking from the tail of your coat.

Joel takes your arm steady. His grip is so familiar, so safe you feel yourself melting into it already. “Easy, easy,” he says, his voice much the same. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you there.”

“You didn’t, you…Yeah,” you sigh, “I guess you did. What did you say?”

He smiles. It’s weak, humored, but completely unsure. “I just asked if you’re waiting for a cab.

And goddamn it, just the sight of him this close thaws you from the inside out. It’s like warmth against the wound, softening you like the creases by the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah,” you start, “I just called one. Figure there’s traffic.” You gesture to the bodies scurrying down towards yellow cabs.

Joel tosses his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the sleek Rolls by the curb. The rain bounces off its roof. “Rand can take you, if you like. Save you waitin’.”

“Oh, no. No, I’m good, thanks.”

“I’ll take your cab,” he clarifies. “I’ll take the cab; Rand can take you home.”

“Really, Joel,” you reply, hugging your purse. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay. Thank you.”

He nods, looking down. There was – there is – nothing he wants more than to look out for you. There’s probably nothing that stings more right now, than the fact you won’t let him.

He makes to leave, then hesitates. Hands in his pockets, he turns back and says, “You ever need anything, just let me know. Alright?”

Your lips flatten. “Mhm.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

“Alright,” he says. “Okay. I’ll see you Monday.”

He strides off towards the Rolls. So much cooler than the suits scrambling around him; dipping his head as he slides into the backseat, fixing his tie before he pulls the door closed.

The car doesn’t move until yours arrives. Until he’s seen you run over, settle in the backseat. Rand pulls out behind as your driver sets off; turns in the opposite direction at the first set of traffic lights.

You watch as it shrinks into a speck from the back window, wondering if Joel’s watching you, too.

The driver tuts and shakes his head. He flicks his fingers to the windshield, some comment about this goddamn rain and ain’t let up for five goddamn days.

You fish your phone from your pocket, turning the weight of it over in your hands like turning the dilemma in your mind. Thinking up something like, Hey, I was gonna order food in tonight. Wanna come over?

Something like, Or not, if you don’t feel like it.

Sorry, I don’t even know why I’m –

The screen lights.

Your heart jumps to your throat.

The driver rambles on, “…said it’d dry by Wednesday – well, you can’t trust a damn one of ‘em…”

Your eyes are glued to the name onscreen.

Joel headers the first notification. And the second. A text, then an email.

Your thumbs hover over the messages for a few seconds, vision blurring around his name. Frantic circles while you decide whether or not you actually want to read them. But it gets the better of you – morbid curiosity – and you tap on the text.

As quickly as it leapt, your heart plummets.

Forwarded Jean-Marc’s email, in case you need it. Have a good weekend.

Three, four, five times. You read over it five fucking times before it sinks in. Switch to your emails, where Joel Miller sits proudly at the top of the list.

“Why are you…?” you mumble, blinking at the screen. Salt stings across your waterline. “You – you fucking…”

It boils through your veins, pools in the pit of your stomach. That ache winds again, twisting around your ribcage.

Anger.

Anger, and…something much worse.

You bite hard on your lip, refusing to let the tears spill over. Your heart hammers against your chest. Your fist balls, like tightening around the leash of a misbehaving dog, pulling it back into place.

Your voice is barely a whisper.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Steam slowly swallows your silhouette whole. In the mirror, you shake the shell of the office from your shoulders, watching as she disappears entirely behind the heated glass. Relieved just to see her go.

You sob under the scorching stream until your skin prunes and your head throbs. You order in food and burrow deep in your couch to pick at it.

Drowning in the same hoodie he once pulled over himself – his landscape of a body, strong as rock and soft as the earth. The material unwashed, still smelling of mint and men’s cologne.

You thumb through the chick flicks on offer: all perfect grins and power couples; the commercial dream that is a two-tone poster with a quirky, conversational title. And then, worse: the breakup movies.

Women flat-out in bed, picking from a tray of chocolates. Two-day pajamas and three-day bedhead. Slumber parties to burn love letters and gauge out their exes’ eyes in photographs, swear themselves off men and then down heavy cocktails until they puke.

Then – the epiphany. Right before some pop rock track from the noughties sends the heroine off into the sunset. The I’m better off without him, or Maybe he wasn’t so bad moment.

Love truly exists, after all. Roll end credits.

“Oh, fuck off,” you mumble, chewing wetly on popcorn. “You’re all bullshit, anyways.”

Maybe you’re just fucking miserable. You liked the bullshit, two weeks ago.

Blake Carter – he was chocolates in bed and feminist handshakes. He was one night at your mom’s, one night at your best friend’s, then back in your old place before the week was out.

This is different. It’s like a sickness.

Rotting from the inside out. Deep in your chest, a fierce fever spreading from the split, the empty cage of ribs. An anxiety which gathers and festers in the barren corners, like teetering along a wire with no idea how high the drop really is – only that you’re not going to make the landing.

How were you ever going to make the landing, letting go of his hand like that?

You manage three mouthfuls of a greasy hamburger, then shove the bags across the coffee table. Too sick and too unsettled to eat without feeling it roll around your stomach in a furious tide.

You ever need anything, just let me know.

Asking for help is not something you do. Not since you were sixteen, and even before then. There is nothing – nothing, you swore – a man could offer you that you couldn’t go find yourself.

But then – then, you found someone who wasn’t looking for you to ask. Didn’t want or expect you to need him for anything, only wanted you to know that he was around if you ever did. Being near you was all he ever really gave a shit about.

You found someone who was on your tail every time you looked back. All your running, all the times you swore you wouldn’t let him catch you. And there you were – turning to make sure he was still trying.

He was. He was always trying. He’s the closest anyone ever came to proving you wrong.

And now…he’s letting you go.

If you had the energy to laugh, you’d laugh. You’d march back into the bathroom and wait for your reflection to clear again, just to point your finger right in her face.

The same woman who walked away from Blake Carter and his heirloom diamond ring; from Sundays forcing down quiche Lorraine at his parents’ house, and pretending to enjoy bouncing his nephew on your knee.

The same woman who left that diamond ring on his bedside table, packed a bag full of clothes, and fled the apartment before he could plead anymore.

The same woman who had seen the entire thing as a bird breaking free from her cage, in the end.

You understand it now.

You spend long enough in that cage, long enough planted on your feet – you forget how to use your wings.

The weekend is slow and sleepless.

Your sheets wind up a twisted mess each night. Kicked to the foot of the bed, cocooned back around your shoulders, then whipped from your body again when you feel too hot, too smothered.

He’s all over your apartment. Dozing in the reflection of the TV screen, bass voice reverberating off each wall, kisses in the clinking of mugs.

Each night, you stare blankly at the ceiling. Sleep becomes a tide you float on the surface of, pooling across your stomach and only ever wetting to your ears. Face skyward, bone dry. Desperately waiting for a wave that never intends on turning.

Come Monday, you’re running on something like four hours sleep and as many coffees.

Martha recognizes it instantly, the way she fawns. She hasn’t let up all day. Not since you walked in this morning, looking like shit and avoiding Joel’s office at all costs. She’s spent more time staring, delivering snacks, making sickly-sweet conversation that hurts your teeth – than she has actually working.

And it was touching. Until ten o’clock.

Joel has two assistants for good fucking reason, it turns out.

“I do not understand a goddamn word I’m reading…” Martha flips the Cosmo she stole from you last week. “The hell is a retrograde?”

Your head tilts. “Do you even know which sign you are?”

Her thin, penciled brows quirk. “Taurus, but I don’t like the way this bull’s lookin’ at me.”

She wiggles her mouse before the monitor switches off, then prods a shard of cucumber with her fork. The rain scatters across the window at her back, dragging golden shadows down her blazer.

“Did you eat today?” she asks.

“Mhm,” you lie, “This morning. Before you came in.”

She chews suspiciously. “Liar.” She offers you the salad bowl. “Eat.”

“Martha,” you push it away, “I’m not –”

“I don’t care whether you’re hungry.”

She thrusts the tub towards you, cherry tomatoes trembling.

“Martha.”

“Eat.”

“I’m not gonna eat your salad, will you stop –?”

“One bite. Just one.”

“I don’t even like –”

She’s holding out a forkful. “Eat the damn –”

“Get a drink with me.”

She halts, greens dangling in front of your face. Her expression twists, loosens, and then twists into bewilderment again. “Pardon me?”

You sigh, deflating into the leather. “Stop tryna force feed me salad, and get a drink with me.”

“On a Monday?” She scoffs. “What’s the occasion?”

“I don’t…I don’t have one,” you groan, pushing to your feet. “At least, not a good one. I just need something a little stronger than kale.”

An all too familiar click over your shoulder plucks her attention. Her eyes flash across the room.

She tracks Joel from his office over to the water cooler, a forced smile when he must glance up. Her eyes snap back to yours at the trickle of water into his mug.

Please? you mouth, and she grumbles.

“Joel?”

His voice is strained; he’s bending at the cooler. “Yep?”

Martha links her arm through yours and forces you to turn. “You mind if we take a long lunch? We were thinking of trying that wine bar up by the golf course.”

Joel lingers on the other side of the office, sipping from his mug. He’s almost unrecognizable: no bear left in him. Declawed, toothless. Dark crescents like the shadows of a bruise beneath his eyes, the ghosts of smile lines on his cheeks.

“Wine bar?” he asks. “Didn’t even know there was one up that way.”

“It’s new,” Martha says, popping the lid back on her salad bowl. “Alan told me about it. Says it costs an arm and a leg, but apparently, it’s worth it.”

He wanders over – hesitant, like approaching the desk of a wild animal. You can feel the heat of his stare on you when he replies, “’s nice up that way. Take the afternoon. You need a ride?”

“All good,” Martha chirps. She squeezes your arm. “I’ll go call a cab.”

She drapes your coat over your shoulders, then twirls off in the direction of the elevator. A girlish little strut, quietly pleased with herself.

She’s deliberately leaving you stranded. Both of you.

Joel steps back when you move. His breath catches in his throat. He slips a hand in one pocket, and says, “Be nice to have a relaxing afternoon.”

“Yep,” you choke, elbow brushing against his. “Nice to have some girl time, I guess.”

“Oh,” he sniffs, “I was talking about me. Empty office, two of you off my ass. Peace and quiet.”

You smile, feeling the weight of him rock gently against your side. “Hilarious,” you murmur, glancing up at him.

He stares straight ahead, sunlight catching rare amber in his eyes. Smiling to himself, calm and content, he says, “Have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow,” and turns back for his office.

Your chest twinges as he closes the door behind him. A tight fist around your vocal cords.

“See you tomorrow, Joel.”

Oasis is a trendy little bar out west, which looks anything but its namesake. All exposed brick and smirk of silver pipework, industrially rustic and injected with the silky scent of wine and wealth.

Exactly the type of place you’d go to get over your millionaire ex.

Martha slinks in like she’s made of the place. Coat loose over her arm, hips swaying and heels clicking. She hops onto a stool at the bar, drums her glossy nails on the varnished wood.

You settle awkwardly into the stool beside her, prodding at what turns out to be a very real cactus. You jump at the sharp prick.

A waiter behind the bar clocks you, and laughs to himself.

“Nice, huh?” Martha asks, scanning the place. The low-hanging lights, the spill of foliage from the rafters. She seems to fit into it a whole lot better than you do.

“Sure,” you mumble around your fingertip, “Are you buying?”

She rolls her eyes. “You asked me out, remember?”

“I was thinking some two-for-one cocktails dive, not the fucking Ritz, Martha.”

“Call it a pick-me-up,” she says, accepting a menu from the waiter. “We’re treating ourselves.”

You pinch your fingertip, watching a scarlet bead bloom from the wound. A satisfying sort of pain, a tender break your hands won’t stay away from. You squeeze until it balloons into a trembling bubble of blood, then swipe the cut clean. Squeeze, then swipe.

Martha orders some vino she says she’s always wanted to try. Two glasses, because when the waiter looks to you to take your order, you’re still staring at your bloody finger.

He slides the drinks over and smiles politely, eyes daring to meet yours only twice. He’s handsome: chiseled jawline and the smudge of a dimple on one cheek. Chin speckled with stubble, shorter and blonder than you’d like.

Your fingertip throbs, and you look down to find it closed in your fist. You take a gulp of wine.

Martha smacks her lips and hums. “Not half bad,” she says, and then slots her glass next to yours. “Alright,” she clasps her hands, “What is it? What’s been goin’ on?”

You spin the base of your glass, staring at the swirl of honeysuckle. “I just needed some air and…wine.”

She buys it about as much as you do.

“Only one thing in the world that makes me need air and wine,” she says. “A man.”

A laugh flutters from your chest, as if by accident. As natural as the sun splitting the clouds. No thinking about it, no forcing it.

Either the expensive alcohol works fast – or Martha does.

She lifts her nose, like sniffing out the truth. “Come on, no bullshit. Why’d you ask me to get a drink?”

It rolls from one shoulder to the other in a tired shrug. You’ve no fucking idea why you asked her to get a drink.

The office was becoming claustrophobic, bursting with the grief of it all. Joel was nowhere to be seen and yet everywhere you looked. Here’s the wall he’d kissed you against, there’s the spot you’d first shaken hands.

Here’s all of it, really: the shame and the anger and the heartbreak all knotted together. Holding yourself back from doodling hearts on his sticky note messages, busying yourself with shredding instead of nosing around his office.

No bullshit, you were about to scream. Martha’s just the first person you laid eyes on.

Her and her fucking kale.

“Because,” you summarize, “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing anymore.”

Her eyes are wide, serious. She’s hooked already. “With Joel?” she asks, sipping.

“With any of it,” you reply. And then, hearing her properly: “What do you know about me and Joel?”

She swallows quickly. “He hasn’t told me a word, I swear,” she says, “but I wasn’t born yesterday. Paris was always a solo trip, darling.”

You massage your forehead, grumbling into your palms. “Jesus Christ,” you whisper. There’s a heavy ache blooming behind your eyes.

Martha smiles. “I thought it was sweet. He’s never been serious enough about anyone to take ‘em over there with him. But,” her eyes ladder down your figure, “I’m guessing it didn’t work out.”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Okay,” she squints, reading you, “And are we relieved? Are we hurt? Angry?”

“We are four and a half coffees Monday morning, and a wine bar Monday afternoon.”

“Got it,” she says, face stony. “That little shit. You need me to yell at ‘im?”

You lift your wine, shake your head. “I did enough yelling at him last week,” you admit. “It wasn’t just him, anyways. He fucked up, but it was the both of us.”

Martha nods, and you both take a long drink.

She taps her nails against the swell of her glass. “I thought you two were really great together,” she says – polite, pensive.

The least Martha you’ve ever heard her.

“You did?”

She nods. “You just always had this camaraderie. It was palpable. From the moment he met you, he was different. Better for it. I don’t know when you were…whatever you were, but –” she takes a deep breath, looking off past you, “– I know I liked it when you were.”

It’s not something you ever considered, even in the thick of it. What it might look like from outside, this little love affair: promises whispered into coffee mugs and glances stolen from behind paperwork.

It was never a secret – at least, not one either of you were trying to keep. It was just…yours. You and Joel. Two names etched at the bottom of a birthday card, no room for anyone else’s.

And if anyone did find out – Martha, Rand, Jean-fucking-Marc – they felt more like collateral. Just the landscape, the backdrop for your fated meteoric crash down to Earth.

God, it felt good to fall.

Martha sighs, dabbing a knuckle at the corner of her lips. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she says, gently. “I’m sorry things didn’t turn out the way you hoped.”

Your eyes drift across the room. The waiter pours a deep red wine for a silver-haired couple over by the window. The man’s thumb surfs back and forth across his wife’s knuckles, dipping to circle the ring on her third finger.

The split in your skin opens again, your nail pressing clumsily into your finger. A tiny wave of pain rocks through the tip.

“Yeah, well,” you sniff, “Shit happens, right?”

“Sure does,” she says, and holds her glass out.

You cheers, the clink piercing the bumbling jazz in the air. The wine thrashes against the side of the glass, and you gulp back a sour mouthful.

“He sent me an offer for a job in Paris,” you confess into your drink. “That’s what our fight was about – the fact he didn’t want me to go. Then on Friday, he sent it anyway.”

“Paris?” Martha straightens in her chair. It’s easy to tell her, easy to pretend it’s some third-floor gossip when she reacts the same way. “That’s big,” she says. “Are you gonna go for it?”

“No,” you admit. “It’s with that guy Jean-Marc.”

Her upper lip curls, a bend of burgundy. “You can do better.”

“I guess,” you frown, “if I were looking.”

“You’re not looking?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

It twists in your throat. A million answers which fizzle into nothing at all on your tongue. Because because because –

“Who would read all of Joel’s boring emails?” It comes with a smirk, which drops as quickly as you realize Martha’s expression isn’t shifting.

“I would. And he’d find a replacement for you eventually. Not half as good, but…”

“Ha,” you stare at her, “Funny.”

“I’m not kidding. “I’m not,” she adds, when you roll your eyes. “It’s about damn time you realized you’re head and shoulders above all this.

“Maybe,” she continues, with an almost bloodthirsty interest, “Joel didn’t let on about Paris because he thinks you’re better than that, too. You don’t think he sees your potential? Hell, I do. You’re too good to be making coffee and taking minutes.”

Tell me something I don’t know, you think.

Joel’s never been quiet about how he feels about you – professionally or otherwise. He said as much in his office last week: I didn’t want to lose you. Those exact words kept you up all weekend, for crying out loud.

Sure, Joel sees something in you. Assistant, colleague, friend, not-friend. It’s not enough to stop the need you have – pinhole pupils hunting, blood jumping in your veins. Like it’d kill you to catch your breath, to shake your hackles and loosen your muscles.

Watch, watch. I can answer your questions before you’ve even come up with them. Watch, watch. I can show up early and leave late, barely pause for breath in between.

Watch, watch. I can break your heart and make it look just like mine.

You squirm under Martha’s glare.

“I don’t…I don’t even know what else I’d do,” you garble, playing with your hands. “I like this job. I’m good at this job. It’s…it’s –”

“– comfortable,” you say together.

“And that’s exactly the problem,” Martha nods, “You’ve outgrown it. You’re nothing but a monster in red bottoms now, baby – too scared to find something that fits you better in case it turns to shit. So what if it does? Is it the end of the world?”

“Feels like it right now,” you reply. She’s cloudy, blurred behind the ocean of tears teetering along your waterline. “And this is barely even a breakup, never mind failing at a career.”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “You think you’d be the first? The last? People fail at things all the damn time. Better to do it now, young as you are – little elastic band of resilience and nerve.”

“Poetic,” you scoff.

She tilts her glass and her head follows.

“Listen to me,” she says, leaning in. “Do not spend one more second paralyzed by fear. I know you’re scared. You’re supposed to be. One day, you’re going to miss the time you gave enough of a shit to feel this fear.

“It’s like electricity in your veins. Everything’s so intense, everything hurts ten times worse and feels ten times more exhilarating. You think something might bring about the end of the goddamn world, and then the sun comes up the next morning just to prove you wrong.

“And Lord almighty, you are going to get it wrong. You’ll say the wrong thing, trust the wrong feeling. You’ll make the same mistakes over and over again. But Jesus, I’d rather you blew it all to hell and at least learned somethin’, than never did it at all.

“You know what my mom would say? World’s been waitin’ on you, kid. Grab a paddle.”

Another laugh spurts from your lips, tears spilling into your mouth, a crackly, wet sniffle. “What the hell does that even mean?” you giggle.

She smiles and wipes your cheek. “Means dive in. Get your hands dirty. Fall in love, get hurt, grow the hell up. Stop standing in the way of yourself and the things you want. That electricity won’t be there forever – so use it.”

“Use it…” you echo, taking the mascara-stained tissue from her.

“Promise me,” she implores, wrapping her hands around yours, “Promise me that you will.”

It’s not just Martha asking, you know this. She’s the one staring at you like a madwoman, sure – but her plea is echoed by a littler, quieter voice.

She’s nervous, scared. A crumpled math paper in her backpack. Her whole world tipped upside down one Wednesday afternoon, soul cursed forever – or so she thought.

When you reply, it’s not Martha you see. It’s the sixteen-year-old version of yourself.

So you look her dead in the eye, and say –

“I promise.”

The world is hazy by the time you leave the bar. Vignetted, a saffron sunset seeping across the sky. Mingling with the city skyline and losing herself over the horizon.

You totter up the steps to your building and wave Martha and Alan off, twirling inside. The weight of wine heavy in your veins, pulling you from one side to the other, and still – you feel lighter, somehow.

You spent all afternoon giggling, once the heartache thawed and the alcohol kicked in. It felt nice; bubbly and nostalgic, the peachy tint of girlhood.

Swapping stories about your old, ridiculous love lives – Martha’s overall-donned boyfriend in high school, or the guy you went on two dates with last year before realizing he was the same dude one of your girlfriends had ghosted three months prior.

For a few hours on a Monday afternoon, you were fifteen again – and the worst thing that could happen was a pimple sprouting on your chin the night before picture day. All you’d ever know was the shiny film on magazine pages, reading two-week old horoscopes to see if they came true.

You slump against the side of the elevator, head spinning as it carries you home. It’s something like seven. You’re too buzzed to fall asleep, but too tipsy to do much more than roll around your apartment.

And by the time you’re back in your sweats, sunken into the couch, one very final nightcap in hand – you’re too tired to even move.

Promise me, she’d said, wildfire behind her eyes. Martha’s notorious for her talents in convincing anyone of anything, wriggling her own way out of any circumstance.

This felt different.

She’s just your colleague. At best, a passerby. Technically – going by her track record with almost everyone else in the company – she doesn’t have to take any more interest in you than the parking attendants in the basement lot do.

But she took your hand and led you out of that office without thinking, the second she understood. She bought you drink after drink, and slapped your hand away when you tried to pay. She listened to you, dried your tears, and then kicked your ass into gear.

By all standards, she was the best first date you’ve ever had.

And promise me, she’d said.

It starts as a joke. Humoring her, humoring yourself. A dare whispered to you by the tinkling of ice in your glass. Innocent curiosity, mixed with a dash of Martha’s good influence.

The perfect cocktail of chaos.

Your first online search brings up so many results that it dizzies you. Marketing executive and project coordinator, business support manager and production lead. They blur into a gray fog, a taunting swirl on your laptop screen.

“Jesus,” you mutter, mouthful of wine. “What the fuck do I…?”

Business and art. That’s what you know. One you’ve been in long enough that you reckon you could do it with your eyes closed – and the other…your little pipedream.

‘s not stupid, Joel had said, that night by the river. Not a pipedream, either.

And – fuck it, maybe you ought to listen for once. Stop standing in the way of yourself and the things you want, and all that.

You dig your knuckles into your eyes, letting the spatter of stars clear your vision, and start again.

A second search threads together a list which feels a little cleaner. A little more you. Sophisticated websites with sleek designs, smooth wording which makes it feel like you’re being sold something.

And so what, if you are? Maybe you’re looking to buy.

You click through image after image of bright offices and beaming staff, sipping sharply through your straw. Wide-eyed and slack-jawed, unsure whether the lightheaded feeling is from the rosé, or the promise of a successful career and competitive salary. Memorizing brand manifestos, learning company values like prayers passing through your hands.

It’s manic. Crazed. Like you’re stood on the brink of an abyss, thick fog kissing your ankles.

You laugh to yourself. This must be the fucking electricity.

Promise me. And what can it hurt, anyway, turning in an application form? Who says it’ll even go anywhere? They might take one look at your resume and laugh you all the way into the trashcan.

Or – they might see what Joel sees. What Martha sees. For the love of God, what you see.

Your resume looks much the same as it did four years ago – still molded into the shape of the kind of girl you thought Joel Miller, CEO might like to meet. And he did, very much so. It’s just – he met all shapes of her. Even the ones she tried to hide.

He found them all out, eventually.

Your thumb pauses, hovering over the mousepad. A slow guilt slithering over your shoulders, coiling deep in your gut. You think of Paris; those streets you walked down with Joel on your arm. Talking, laughing, spilling secrets and keeping them, too.

Your shadows are probably still on those avenues. Your reflections still bobbing in the Seine. Kisses hidden behind steam-coated mirrors, bodies joining in a darkened hotel room.

It twinges some, deep in your chest. A little numbed, what with all the alcohol and – well, Martha. But it’s still there. The same wound you’ve had for twelve years now.

It’s there. It will probably always be there.

So – fuck it.

You’re grabbing a goddamn paddle.

It’s been a quiet, fruitless week. No calls, no emails, no messages written in the stars.

Which is probably a good thing, given you were more than a few glasses of wine deep – and still on some kind of high from Martha’s speech. God only knows what kind of shit you were filling those applications with.

Nothing quite like liquid courage and a broken heart, right?

The light from the Xerox flickers, swiping memories from that afternoon back and forth. Martha’s hand locked around yours, the perfumed wine she kept buying. The waiter with the dimples, Joel’s Have a good night I’ll see you tomorrow, the pine air freshener in Alan’s car.

Things have mellowed, settled in your stomach. The world is back to beige – as plain as it always was before that night of tequila and AC/DC. You’ve made peace with it, this idea of letting go. Letting him go.

Martha – soapbox queen, microphone in one hand and glass of Sauvignon Blanc in the other – has checked in every day since. Expectant eyes from across the room, treasure chest emails full of job ads she’s collected.

Anything? she texted this morning, with six praying emojis. One more since yesterday, two since the day before that.

But no – nothing, for almost eight days now.

Maybe that’s for the best.

Maybe you can swallow back the knot of misplaced disappointment, slip back into your heels and forget any of it ever happened. That fire Martha struck so effortlessly, snuffed by a cruel, cold wind.

His knuckles on the door scatter your thoughts.

“Hey,” Joel says, leant against the frame. “Everything okay?”

“All good,” you reply. “What’s up?”

He looks…frustratingly good. Like he’s pieced himself back together. Sharp and smart, brand new. And yet – warm, homey, in all the places only you know to look.

Your fingers flinch by your side, as though they’re seeking him out. You want to run them through his hair, through his beard. Want to straighten his tie, smooth the shirt over his chest. Breathe him in and feel him melt under your touch.

Feel him change, feel him soften – just for you.

Only for you.

He floats over, hands in his pockets, and perches on the desk by the copier. “Exciting stuff,” he muses, tapping the machine twice.

“Hm,” you nod, “You’re an exciting man.”

“How was the wine bar?”

“It was good,” you reply. “Little above my price range, but – it got us drunk, so.”

“Did the job.”

“Did the job,” you agree.

“Good,” Joel says, crossing his ankles. “I’m glad to see you a little more your old self.”

Your lips flatten into a smile. “Well, Martha has a way with words.”

He snorts. “Don’t I know it.”

He lingers, then. An awkward air about him. He scratches his nose, stuffs his hands back in his pockets. Sucks in a deep breath, swallows what seems to be a soliloquy of sentiment, or secrets, or something else.

Whatever it is, his nerves rub off on you.

You cross your arms, twist your toe into the carpet. Stare at the paper churning out of the machine, stare at your nails, stare at anything that isn’t the man sitting right in front of you.

But then – he murmurs, as though the words splinter from his tongue, “I had an interesting email this morning.”

The copier shudders at his side.

Your eyebrows lift. “Oh, yeah?”

Joel clears his throat. “Yeah. Pertaining to you.”

And you realize.

You look up at him, the tight knit of his brows. His fixed jaw, the way it flexes as he chews on the words.

“Pertaining to me,” you echo – a nudge.

The light from the machine catches a wet glint in his eye. He blinks it away.

“Request for a reference,” he says.

And – shit.

“Shit,” you hiss.

Fuck.

“Oh, fuck,” louder.

His expression sharpens into a perplexed smirk. “Surprised?”

“Yes,” you start, “I mean – no. No, I just – Shit, I didn’t think they’d…I thought they’d talk to me first. Why didn’t they talk to me first?”

He shrugs. “I know of the company, met the CEO once at a gala. From what I know, she runs a pretty tight ship. Probably just wanted to gauge you before reaching out. It’s okay,” his voice is kind, hushed, “Doesn’t mean you won’t still hear.”

“Oh, Jesus, Joel,” you pull on your cheeks, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean –”

“Woah, woah,” he pats the air, moves so close you worry he might hear the thud of your heart, “No apologies, alright? That ain’t why I brought it up.”

“I just didn’t mean for you to find out that way. I wanted to be the one to – to tell you.”

He stands, hands finding your elbows. Gentle, a little timid. Barely brushing the sleeves of your shirt, and yet your whole body ignites.

“Darlin’,” his voice is serious, “I don’t care. I don’t give a shit, I promise. I mean…” he shakes his head, “…I give a shit. I give a lotta shits. I’m not – I don’t mean that, I meant –”

“I know what you meant,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he sighs, “you always do.”

You pick a speck of fluff from his tie. He watches your hand, then takes it in both of his. Two big paws wrapped around one of yours, swallowing it whole.

It’s a familiar feeling, staring at the shape of your fingers tangled in his. Two in the morning at your first sleepover, praying Mom will pick up the phone. The first night alone in a new apartment, the babble of reality television for company right until sunrise.

You’re homesick.

Homesick for a man who’s standing right in front of you.

“I just wanted you to know,” Joel says, “that I sent it off just now. Just in case somethin’ goes wrong with the email, it doesn’t go through, I sent it to the wrong goddamn place – I don’t know. I just wanted you to know that it’s done.”

He holds your hand to his chest, his heartbeat against your knuckles. When you don’t reply, throttled by the threat of tears, he gives your wrist a little shake.

“Okay? You in there?”

“I’m here,” you breathe, and your hand slips from his grasp. “Thank you. I’m still sorry. You musta felt a little blindsided.”

His head bobs, considering. “Was a surprise, but a good one. Junior art director, huh? That sounds pretty damn exciting.”

“Yeah,” you reply, relaxing as he settles back on the desk. “Really exciting. Flex those creative muscles again.”

He grins. “You plan on working your way up?”

“Yup. Earn my stripes.”

“Alright, little tiger,” he says, and your heart leaps. “Proud of you.”

A silly smirk on your lips, you give him a tiny curtsy. “Here’s hoping your reference seals the deal.”

Joel laughs. “I don’t know about that, darlin’. It’s pretty shitty.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, yeah. Talked all about how sarcastic you are, how you forgot the charger for your toothbrush – and then stole mine. Told ‘em about the Bart Simpson socks, force-feeding me Patrick Swayze. The lot.”

“The Bart socks,” you snicker, “They really stuck with you, huh?”

“Sure did.”

You slide onto the desk beside him. “What did you really write?” you ask, leaning in.

Joel glances to you. It should be obvious, with the way he’s looking at you, exactly what he wrote.

“Tell me,” you say, elbowing him.

“I told them…” he sighs, “…I told them not even to think about it, just hire you. They’d be outta their goddamn minds not to. Told them I wouldn’t be anywhere without you – or your Bart socks.

“Told them you’re the best thing that ever happened to this place. The best thing that ever happened to me. And you think – you think you never know what you have until you lose it, whatever that saying is, but I did. I knew from the second I met you. And they will, too. So – I told ‘em.”

The photocopier cuts, huffs, and falls silent. The room is plunged into a suffocating silence. You’re not sure you’re even breathing.

Joel’s arms are crossed protectively over his chest. You want so badly, more than anything, to burrow under them. To wriggle your way into his grasp – because you know he’d let you – cling to his chest, let his heartbeat regulate yours.

Let his entire body become yours; forget which parts are you, and which are him. Crawl into his skin, envelop yourself in him.

You want to cry into him. Hand him back all those mangled shapes of yourself you tried so hard to hoard – realizing now, that he knew what he was doing all along.

He was never trying to break them. He was never trying to hurt them. He only ever wanted to love them.

He only ever wanted to love you.

“Anyway,” Joel says, dusting his thighs, “Why don’t you finish that up, head on home for the day?”

“Uh –” you swipe the tears from your cheeks, “– no, it’s okay. I got a to-do list as long as my arm, and I still owe you, like, three hours from last week.”

Joel watches as you leap back over to the copier, swing the documents under one arm.

“I’m sure the to-do list will keep,” he assures, taking the ream from your clutches. “Go home, clear your head. Wait for that invite to interview to come through.”

“Joel –”

“Look at me,” he towers over you, “Anything urgent is Martha’s job now. She’ll love the drama of it. You want me to email that company back ‘n have them add Doesn’t follow orders to your reference?”

You breathe a laugh. “No.”

“No,” he repeats, brushing by.

All the times you’ve missed him before – landing back home after Paris, sat with some lovestruck financier in a golf club, fighting like kids in his office – and none of them compare to right now. Stood in the copy room, mere inches and yet entire worlds between you.

And Joel seems to know, like he knows everything you’re thinking. He glances over his shoulder, flame in his eyes, and he smiles. All sweet and charming, the real kind that softens him, lightens him.

Everything that makes him yours.

“Go on, git,” he says, heading for the door. “‘fore I change my mind.”

“Hey, wait. Joel?”

He turns back.

Your voice trembles. “How are you so calm about all this?”

His jaw flicks uncomfortably. He considers it for a moment, then says, “If you love something, you let it go.”

You repeat his own words back to him, whispered to you while you lay intertwined on his childhood bed. When they leave your mouth, they sound more like a plea. Fight back.

“But then you’d be losing something,” you say.

Joel shrugs. Earnestly. “Can’t lose somethin’ I never had.”

He doesn’t get it. He must get it. He’s twenty years older, twenty years wiser. He must know, by now. Christ, he had you to a tee two weeks ago.

How doesn’t he get it?

Your chest heaves. Your head shakes.

“You had it. You had me the second we walked into that dive bar.”

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #ceo!joel miller #ceo!joel #sugardaddy!joel miller #the last of us #the last of us fic #fic: sex on fire

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ldrfanatic · 11 months ago

Note

hi!!! could i please request prompts l17 & r20 for theo nott? 🤭

good ones never wait

theo nott x fem!hufflepuff!reader

yesss!!

L17 - His hands around a cold glass make me wanna know that body like it's mine

R20 - Only bought this dress so you could take it off

05.30.2024

T Swift Lyrics Prompts

suggestive at the end but no smut!

theodore aurelius nott the man that you are 😌

works slytherin boys masterlist

your heart was pounding in your chest as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. theodore nott, your best friend, and also the man you were irreversibly in love with, had just finished the first quidditch practice of the season. despite his teammates insistence that you were only there to spy for your house team, theo had invited you to watch for some reason you had yet to figure out.

still, watching him wipe sweat, dirt, and god knows whatever else from his perfect face while he grinned with his mates did something to your insides. couldn’t your heart just be still for once?

after being friends with theo for nearly five years, you’d learned to tune out the butterflies for the most part. but crushing on theodore nott isn’t something that one just gets over. he’s the kind of guy that you’d spend your whole life helplessly in love with.

“sweet little puff. if you’re so infatuated, ask nott out.”

the voice of pansy parkinson in your ear made you jump.

after gathering yourself once more, you shrugged thoughtlessly at the idea. of course you’d like to think he’d say yes. but with theo there was no telling. he’d never had a girlfriend his entire time at hogwarts. in fact, now that you really thought about it, you couldn’t remember him ever even giving any of the numerous girls that asked him out a chance.

he was so well known for instant rejections that eventually even his most committed fan girls had simply given up.

“pfh.”

you made a noise of disbelief in pansy’s direction.

“sure, and ruin a five year friendship with my best friend. no thanks.”

“no, you’d much rather wallow in your feelings and never say a word about it to anyone except me apparently.”

she stood up from next to you and held out a hand. a silent invitation.

“the worst he could say is no, y/n. and at least if he does, you can start moving on.”

you grasped her hand and allowed her to pull you up, but inside you knew that there was no moving on from theodore nott. he would always have a place in your heart. you’d resigned yourself to that a long time ago.

it was a stiff silence as the pair of you made your way to where the boys were all shoving each other and rolling around in the quidditch pitch. you watched with amusement as theo shoved mattheo’s face into the grass with a playful grip on his dark curls.

as he noticed your approach, he looked up from his entanglement with a broad smile. “y/n!”

his temporary distraction gave mattheo the few vital seconds he needed, and a few moments later, he’d wrapped his arms around the taller boy’s waist and maneuvered himself to pin him.

“too slow, aurelius. distracted by your little girlfriend like usual.”

whatever theo said next was drowned out by mattheo’s rather unmanly shriek as enzo wriggled free of blaise’s grasp and flung himself at mattheo’s head.

pansy leaned over to you.

“at least come to our little gathering tonight. nothing big, just slytherin house. and of course, our little badger.”

“where theo is, i am.”

—

there was a part of you that wished that statement could be untrue for at least once in your life. you weren’t typically much of a party person, but since you were nearly joined at the hip with the nott boy, where theo went, you followed. and vice versa.

after forcing him into countless bookstores with you, it was really only fair that you join him for the occasional night of uninterrupted revelry.

especially since so many bodies in one room meant that theo would be practically on top of you the entire time.

you tugged at the green sundress in hopes that it was straight. you’d only bought it because theo said it would look good on you when you’d gone shopping together this past summer. but you hadn’t had an occasion to wear it yet and figured tonight was as good a night as any. softly clearing your throat, you spoke the password and watched in amazement as a snake seemed to appear out of nowhere, slithering to form the door to the slytherin common room.

the moment you stepped foot inside, music thrummed through your body. after a quick scan of the room, you found your serpents as they lounged across some furniture in a corner. yet, upon approaching, you noticed theo’s absence.

“your boy is getting you a drink.”

draco nodded to the drink table where sure enough, theo was pouring up some sort of concoction. you softly excused yourself and started your way towards him.

theo’s friends watched on as the boy completely lit up when he saw you. mattheo felt a plan began to hatch.

enzo, who apparently recognized the look on mattheo’s face, immediately began to shake his head violently.

“no. whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t.”

immediately, mattheo’s face twisted into a look equal parts disbelief and exasperation.

“oh come on, don’t tell me you aren’t tired of those two dancing circles around each other.” he took a swig of his drink and then stood dramatically. “we all know there’s only one way to fix this.”

midway through a rather animated conversation with theo, you felt a large hand in your own. out of the corner of your eye you could see mattheo with his signature smirk.

“don’t hog her all night, aurelius. c’mon sweetheart let’s dance.”

before you could reject him, the boy had dragged you onto the dance floor and was yanking you in various directions while “dancing” with you. of course, mattheo was respectful of you and theodore’s albeit odd relationship and simply held your hands while dancing with you.

still, he knew that it wouldn’t take much to rile up his friend when it came to you. and having you ripped away from him while he was in the middle of admiring you would be frustrating no doubt.

and thus, no longer than ten seconds into your dance, mattheo was ripped away from you by his collar and dragged off by a rather irritated theo.

well, anyways.

pansy grinned knowingly as you made your way back to where she and the others were sitting. she clearly knew something. you pulled her from the couch by her wrist and out of ear shot of the boys.

“what the hell pansy?”

“mattheo has a brilliant plan to get dear little theodore to confess his feelings for you.”

“oh yeah. brilliant.” you say sarcastically. “one problem though. theodore doesn’t have feelings for me.”

she rolled her eyes at you, then fixed you with a stare so intense you were suddenly reminded of why she was in slytherin.

“yes he does. honestly, you like him too right? cause it doesn’t really seem like it anymore.”

you blushed at the thoughts that entered your head. you really shouldn’t be thinking these things about your best friend but there you were.

“his hands around a cold glass make me wanna know that body like it’s mine.”

pansy wriggled her eyebrows suggestively at you.

“well then you better go get him before he blows a blood vessel in his neck.”

she motioned behind you lazily. when you turned, theo was standing a few feet away from you and sure enough was glaring intensely at a grinning mattheo on the couch, looking as though he may kill the boy any second now.

deciding that mattheo’s death would be annoying for everyone to deal with, you approached theo timidly. yet, when his gaze met yours, you felt at peace.

your muscles relaxed involuntarily under his stare, and the closer you got to him, the more your mind seemed to clear. every thought jumped soundlessly from your brain to make room for the only thing that mattered: theodore.

"why do you let him rile you up theo?"

“he knows all the right buttons to press.”

“just ignore him.”

the brunette shook his head.

“i can’t do that. not when it’s you.”

your mouth fell open at his confession. thoughts raced through your brain but none of them actually tumbled off your tongue.

“you don’t have to say anything, bella. it’s okay that you don’t feel the same, i just needed you to know.”

your arms snaked up to wrap around his neck. electricity surged through the air and a grin spread across your face as you pulled the boy into a kiss.

“you’re so cute when you’re all dumb.”

theo’s thick brows sunk in confusion.

“i only bought this dress so you could take it off.”

—

@moonlightreader649 @thatdammchickennugget @helendeath @fandom-life-12 @bouquetolegoflowers @maryvibess @nighttimemoonlover

#slytherin boys #theodore nott #slytherin #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys x reader

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j2hoes · 11 months ago

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Hopes And Fears - Part Two. (Wally Clark x Reader.)

Summary: Y/N’s death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can’t even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.

Word Count: 3.1k

Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!

Warnings: Death

Part One.

A/N: It’s finally here!! I can’t even begin to express how sorry I am that has it has taken me over a year to get part two out. I’m sure most of you are probably over waiting for it anyway but if you do fancy giving it a read, I really appreciate it and hope it was worth the excessively long wait. I’ve tagged everybody that asked for a part two!! Once again, I am so deeply sorry! Please forgive me!!

“I would like to begin by thanking everybody that is here today and for those who have reached out to our family in this incredibly difficult time. Your thoughts and prayers have been so comforting and a reminder of the impact that our beautiful daughter had on so many people.

How would I even begin to describe Y/N? She was truly the most special girl and I am so thankful that I was able to bring her into this world, even if she did have to leave it early. The years I got to spend with her, were the best of my life and nothing will ever compare to the bond that her and I shared. She was so kind, so generous and so loving. Never declining the opportunity to spend time with her family, even if it may have been the embarrassing thing to do. I know what it’s like to be a teenager and for her to put us first consistently was just one of her many great qualities.

Y/N was an honour roll student, a successful gymnast and dancer, as well as being captain of the Split River Cheerleaders. As a child, she had so much energy, to the point where we didn’t know what to do with her. After enrolling her in dance classes for the first time, she fell in love with the sport, gymnastics and cheerleading followed and I remember being so nervous that she would injure herself. However, when she stared up at me with those gleaming eyes, I couldn’t bring it in myself to say no. These were just a few of her passions and it was evident that this was where she felt at home anytime we watched her at competitions or rehearsals. No longer the shy little girl that used to hide behind my legs before her first day of school.

Our daughter was also a keen activist and did a lot of charity work, though most of you probably wouldn’t know that. She volunteered at the animal shelter on our block every weekend, which led to her rescuing countless animals over the years. Leaving us with not only a dog but three cats, a ferret, five rabbits, countless chickens and four rats. She also ran at least one marathon a year in order to raise money for numerous charities, and often donated supplies and food to women’s shelters around the state.

Our daughter was the most selfless person I know, always putting other before herself. She taught us a lot and made us better people. For which I’ll be eternally grateful.

We wish we could’ve stopped this, and that we could’ve had more time with her. We wish we could’ve watched her grow and sent her off to college. We wish we could’ve moved her into her first apartment and seen her get married, maybe even had grandchildren.

The pain we are experiencing right now is unlike any other. To lose a child is the most gut wrenching thing, I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. I would give anything to hold her in my arms one last time. To be able to tell her I love her one last time.

So please, if anybody has any information as to who did this to our precious girl, all I ask is that you share this with the police department. Please help us find the person responsible and allow us some closure and for Y/N to get justice. She didn’t deserve this. Thank you.”

My mother cries as she steps away from the podium, collapsing into the arms of my father. Tears silently roll down my face as I take in the scene, the heartbreak across their faces as they hold each other. Unable to contain the grief they’re feeling.

As the principal speaks, I watch the crowd. My friends trying their best to hide their sadness, teachers hold their heads down, struggling to understand how this could’ve happened, even some students I only knew in passing look as though they could burst into tears at any moment.

It’s a difficult thing to watch, your own memorial. I suppose I never thought about how other would react to my death before, it never crosses your mind as you assume you won’t be able to witness it. God, what I would give to be that naive again.

“Hi Split River, for those of you that don’t know me, I’m Abby. Y/N was, well is my best friend. We met when we were in kindergarten and from that day forward we’ve been inseparable.

Y/N was a very shy person, I’m sure most of you would describe her as an introvert. Fortunately, I was one of the few people she let into her life, breaking down the invisible barriers she built around herself and it was the greatest pleasure of my life.

We were total opposites and enjoyed different things but that didn’t matter. For example, Y/N hated theatre, she called it glorified pantomime, but she still attended every show I was in, she still helped me practice my lines and she still encouraged me to do what I loved even if she couldn’t stand it.

We had so many things we wanted to do together, we were going to share a dorm together at Parsons, she would major in fashion design and I would do photography. We’d take over the world as a duo, running our own magazine that I could star in, of course. All those dreams of ours have been ripped to shreds now and I don’t know what to do without her. My life was intertwined with her’s and there was never a future that she wasn’t apart of. I’m completely lost without her.

I hope whoever did this rots in hell. You deserve nothing but suffering for taking such a pure soul out of this world.”

Abby’s words leave a small smile on my face despite the tears that continue to fall. In all honesty, I’m surprised her entire speech wasn’t a rage fuelled rant directed at the perpetrator.

Despite my eyes being fixed on the service taking place in the gym below, I still feel the bench dip slightly. Alerting me of someone’s presence. My eyes reluctantly drag themselves away and I realise it’s the footballer, he sits towards the other end of the bench, keeping his distance. I’m quick to notice the lack of football jersey, wearing nothing but a white tank top that defines his arms nicely and his blue school assigned gym shorts.

His hands are clutching a bouquet of flowers, an array of sunflowers, dusty orange irises, blood red snapdragons and soft peach chrysanthemums. They’re arranged beautifully, held together by a small piece of string.

“They were beautiful speeches.” He comments, soft smile gracing his features.

I nod, offering a small smile in return. The lack of football attire puts me at ease and I’m appreciative of the distance between us. Guilt consumes me slightly at my judgement towards him, but I can’t control it. After what happened, I don’t want to put myself in that situation again. I’m not taking any chances.

“This is the hard part. My mom couldn’t even finish her eulogy she was crying that much.” He tells me, eyes fixed on the girls from my cheerleading squad who are now doing their own speech. “It’s good to know you have so many people who care about you though.”

He doesn’t look over at me once he’s finished speaking and I take my time to look at him properly. Soft brown eyes compliment his dark, almost black hair. Full lips and a youthful glow, it dawns on me that he’s been stuck in this state for decades, never aging, never changing.

“I feel bad.” I state, voice barely louder than a whisper as I allow myself to make eye contact with him when he turns to face me. “They shouldn’t have to go through this.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault.” He goes to move towards me before stopping himself, though never taking his eyes off mine. “You can’t blame yourself, trust me I spent years doing that and no good comes of it. You’ll just end up tormenting yourself.”

Nodding as I take in his words, I let out a long sigh. Gazing down at my parents once again, I can’t help but feel the tears welling up in my eyes once again and I’m quick to wipe them away. Not wanting Wally to see me cry. They’re still clinging on to each other, though they’ve moved to sit down now, neither of them look as though they’re paying much attention to those speaking. Focused solely on comforting one another.

It’s in that moment that I notice who the next speaker is and my entire body tenses. Why is Spencer getting up to speak? He’s dressed to the nines in a black suit, hands gripping a piece of paper that has evidently been crumpled up. If my heart still worked I’m almost positive it would’ve stopped beating right this second.

Is this some sort of sick joke? Parading around in front of my grieving loved ones, knowing full well that he’s potentially evaded justice. I feel sick to my stomach and can’t bare to watch. What could he even have to say?

“Walk with me.”

Before Wally can even figure out what is happening, I’m practically sprinting out of the gym. Hurrying down the hallway in an effort to get as far away from Spencer as physically possible. It’s completely irrational, I know he can’t see me. He can’t hurt me again. Yet, I can’t even bring myself to stay in the same room as him.

“How did you die?” I ask Wally once he has caught up to me, walking beside me while making sure to keep a few feet between us. I’m in need of a distraction and as long as he’s talking, I can keep my mind off the situation that just unfolded before me.

“Oh, I um was tackled during the homecoming game of my senior year in ‘83. Snapped my neck and died on the pitch.” He tells me, one hand scratching the back of his neck as he does so, eyes unable to meet mine. “I’d already been benched but my mom pushed me to get back in the game and I just wanted to make her proud.”

Stopping in my tracks, I turn to face him properly. His face is full of guilt, and perhaps a little bit of shame. Afraid that he didn’t do his best, that he didn’t make his mom proud.

“She still comes to every game. I mean they named the stadium after me so it’s nice that I get to see her once a year. I’m lucky in that sense.”

He’s rambling, trying to fill the silence with anything he can. It’s something I often found myself down when I was still alive. Wanting to aid the embarrassment and nervousness I often felt.

“Wally. Your mom will always be proud of you. A mom’s pride for her child is unconditional.” I speak confidently, allowing him to feel reassured, something I can sense he needs right now.

“You’re right. I just wish things ended differently, like if I’d won the game, all those years of training wouldn’t have gone to waste you know?”

The sadness in his voice is prevalent and I can tell he struggles with it even after all these years. He’s still not making eye contact with me and I feel that pang of guilt once again, for assuming he would be like all the other stupid footballers I know. He has a good heart, I see that now.

“You heard my mom’s speech right? If we’re gonna play that game then all those years of dance training were for nothing.” I joke, hoping it’ll ease his sullen mood slightly. “I danced because it was fun, besides, if all of those years were for nothing, would I still be able to do this?”

For the first time since we left the gym, Wally actually looks at me. Raising my arms, I judge the distance behind me before throwing myself into a back handspring. The boy laughs quietly, causing me to smile as he brings his hands together in a round of applause, muffled slightly due to the flowers he’s still holding. Bowing obnoxiously, I can’t help but allow myself to enjoy the moment. It’s the first bit of happiness I’ve felt this entire time and I intend to savour it.

“Wow. Yeah, you would not catch me doing that.” He comments, matching my pace as we continue to walk again. “Thank you, by the way.”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion, not entirely sure where his thanks are coming from. Staying silent as we sit opposite one another in the communal gardens towards the back of the school. It’s quiet, not many students know it’s here, and the ones that do have no interest in being back here. They’d much rather be on the quad where they actually get phone service.

“For cheering me up, I mean. The others can sometimes get a bit annoyed when I bring up what happened. They think I should’ve got over it by now with it being almost forty odd years ago.” He states, the sunlight reflecting on him at just the right angle, it makes him look angelic. Beautiful really.

“Can anybody get over their death?”

“Rhonda seems to think so, but I reckon she just doesn’t like talking about what happened to her.” He replies, a fondness in his eyes as he talks about her, almost as if he’s remembering a past conversation.

Leaning back to take in the sun, I close my eyes, absorbing the light that hits my face. Being dead is strange to say the least, I thought I wouldn’t feel anything. No emotions, no sensations, nothing. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Since death, I’ve mostly felt sadness and anger, but spending this short amount of time with Wally has made me aware of the happiness i’m able to feel as well. Not to mention the warmth of the sun on my skin, I can pretend I’m alive. Even if it is just for a second.

“These are for you by the way.” Wally’s voice bring me back to reality and I realise he’s holding the bouquet of flowers out to me. He’s sat a good distance away and so I have to lean forward to take them from his grasp. Fingers brushing as I do so and I’m quick to pull away, despite the warmth that rushed through my hand upon the momentary interaction. “I was going to give them to you earlier, but then it didn’t seem right because we were watching the eulogies and all. I didn’t wanna make it weird or awkward for you or anything. I also didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked so I just picked a bunch from the flower gardens, Charlie helped me arrange them, I hope they’re okay because my first attempt wasn’t the best. Apparently the colours didn’t match or something-“

“Wally they’re gorgeous.” I interrupt, unable to hide the grin that is beginning to spread across my face as I bring them to my nose to inhale the scent. “Snapdragons are my favourite.”

“Oh thank god. I was really worried you would hate them, or that maybe you weren’t a flower person.” He blurts out, following a quick sigh of relief. “Not that it’s a big deal or anything. I just wanted to make sure you knew that I mean no harm, and sort of welcome you the afterlife I guess.”

I must admit the nervous rambling is cute, I can feel the redness flushing my cheeks as I hide myself behind the flowers. Taking my time to admire the bouquet as much as I can. It’s a beautiful gesture, and I’m in disbelief that he spent the time to do this for me. A peace offering despite him doing nothing wrong.

“You’re sweet Wally.” I admit, delicately stroking the petals on a couple of the flowers. “I’m really sorry about before. You just remind me of someone.”

“A footballer ex perhaps?” He questions, unable to get Rhonda’s previous comment out of his head. Whether it be down to jealousy or curiosity he’s unsure.

“No, no ex.” I shake my head adamantly, eyes glued to the flowers as I try to come up with the words to describe why I acted the way I did. It’s still too soon for me to talk about, I know that. However, I also know that Wally does deserve some sort of explanation. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it just yet, but if I have another moment like before I promise it’s not your fault.”

Wally nods, understanding and accepting my boundaries. We stay sat in silence for a moment longer, he doesn’t push me to talk, nor does he change the subject. Instead, we just embrace the peace we’ve created in the garden. It’s the most relaxed I’ve felt for a while and I’m able to sit with my own thoughts without sending myself into a spiral or a panic. It’s nice.

The minutes pass as we listen to the gentle sounds of birds chirping and the occasional rustle of the trees in the wind. It feels as though we’re stuck in time, but I feel content. I wouldn’t mind being stuck right here, right now. At least, if it wasn’t for Charlie.

“Y/N, your memorial’s ending, just thought you’d want to see your parents again before they leave!”

Wally and I both look towards the boy who stands awkwardly in the doorway. He sounds out of breath and I imagine he’s been sprinting around the school in search of me.

My hands grip the flowers tighter, veins popping and knuckles flexed as I squeeze tightly. Wally’s the first to stand and when I finally look up at him, he offers me an encouraging nod. A reminder that I am strong enough to do this. To say my goodbyes.

While I walk besides the tall jock, with Charlie taking lead in front, I do feel strong. Wally’s supportive and comforting nature radiates through the hallway and I feel confident. Although, I know this is the last time I could potentially see my parents, there’s no sadness, just a readiness to take on this new stage of my life and it fills me with a sense of acceptance. Accepting death was difficult but finally, I feel ready to take on whatever comes next.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tagged List:

Just ask if you’d like to be removed :)

@p-rspective @criesinlies @bath1lda @prettyplant0 @backtotheshitshow @emrysaf @lyn-soso @agentsofwhat @stumacherisalive @xyzstar @ellatitanium @nymwritespoetry @katdahlali @fruityfrog505 @kaiyahs-wife @callsignwidow @hufflepufffangirlqueen @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @blissfulxsins @stainedstardom @pearlsyeaaa @sisterslytherinog @random-simper @highpriestessfae @softbabybunnyysstuff @alexayoonlee @marvelsbitchh @urchubbygirlpen15 @urmomisafinewoman @frogmanfae @okitrine @blairslair @tommyriddleobsessed @correlance @pinkstrawberryflower @ameliamarie50 @esmerayxx @faithiegirl01 @janessabaker @littlebitof-life @circethesinner

#wally clark angst #wally clark fluff #wally clark fic #wally clark imagines #wally clark #wally clark x reader #school spirits imagines #school spirits fic #school spirits

500 notes · View notes

jazziejax · 10 months ago

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𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐌𝐬.𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥

Pairings- Black!OC x Abbott Elementary Cast, later Black!OC x Manny (Can be read as x Reader though!)

Summary- Pilot Episode Experience with Naoya Lovel

Warnings- Swearing, kids, mixed race reader( those aren’t warnings really, just what to expect)

Jazzie’sNotes!- let me know what you guys think!! I’ve been really obsessed with Abbott Elementary recently and I’m contemplating if I want to write S1&S2 just to get to the Manny season. I want to get there fast but I know what won’t be possible with two seasons worth of writing. Let me know what you guys think I should do.

Word Count- 6,358

“Okay, so you wouldn't put the number on the bottom because that's what?” The older woman asked, drawing out her words as she stood in front of her fourth-grade class, pointing at the whiteboard behind her with her yardstick.

“The denominator.” The class answered.

“Correct, and what do we call the one on top?”

“The numerator.”

“Yes! You guys are killing this lesson.” She smiled as she placed her hands on her hips. She caught the camera crew in the corner of her eyes and then turned to them. “Or should I say I’m killing this lesson?” She smirked, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she posed. It was silent for a moment as they all watched her just smile.

“Wouldn’t you agree?” She’s asked, looking at one of the guys behind the camera. He nodded, moving the camera along with him, causing her to smile and adjust her glasses. “Why, thank you.”

“Hello! My name is Naoya Lovel. Pronounced Now-Ya, it’s Japanese because I’m half Japanese. Don’t ask why I’m half Japanese in Philly, it’s a long story.” She sighed as she shook her head.

“Well, actually, let me tell you the story because it’s actually kind of crazy.” She chuckled, starting to explain, but it then cut to another clip of her in the class.

“Ms.Lovel, we ran out of paper towels.” A student said, standing in front of her desk with paint on the palms of his hands. Noaya looked up, at him, a slight frown on her face. “Ohh, okay, well I have some in my desk.” She started, pulling open her desk drawer. The camera angled down to catch the empty towel box staring back at her. She smirked up at them awkwardly and shrugged her shoulders. “What, I have a constant runny nose.”

“As a teacher, you teach kids how to solve problems while solving your own. In your personal life and at school. And in this school, there are a lot.”

“Ms.Lovel, I need paper towels too.” Another student said, showing her blue and pink palms to her teacher. Noaya then stood from her seat, looking around her room. “Okay, okay class. Give me one sec.” She said, nervously looking around her room to solve her paper towel problem. She the. Saw a stray beach towel near the window on her small bookshelf. “Oh! Here we are, guys.” She said, rushing over to the towel and snatching it up.

“This could be a lesson too.” She smiled excitedly and grabbed a pair of large scissors from her desk. “I probably shouldn’t have these just sitting out.” She mumbled to herself, giving the camera a sideways glance. “So class, this is going to be a hands-on moment. If there are almost thirty of you, how many pieces would I need to cut this into for you guys to share?” She asked, looking at all of them. There was a moment before anyone said anything, the kids thinking over their answer. Then, some of their hands shot up. Naoya flashed the cameras behind her a quick smile before turning back to the kids.

“Noaya, Jacob, and I came in last year with 20 other teachers. We’re three of the four left so…trauma bonding, I guess?” Janine said, in regards to the other girl.

“Yeah, I taught for two years before I got here, I transferred from Addington to here because those people are a bunch of stuck-up freaks who are just in it for a little extra on their check.” She said with a smirk. “And that’s not what I’m here for, I’m here to change lives.” She boated, folding her arms.

“Hey, Melissa, can you please tell “Ta-Nehisi Quotes” here that “white boy” is a term of endearment from the corner store people?” Janie said as she walked into the break room on the second floor.

“Ooh, cheese steaks?” Naoya questioned as she looked up from her papers, knowing the full situation after only hearing the words ‘white boy’ and ‘corner store’.”

“For Zach Ertz, yeah.” Melissa started, turning around with a fresh cup of coffee in her hands. “For him. It’s an insult.” She smirked, then paused at the sight of the cameras in her face.

“Well, you guys, I need a new rug. Mine is officially done.” Janie said.” Coming take a seat right next to the working woman.

“Mhmm! Me too.” Jacob started, taking a seat on the other side of her. “I shook mine out and all the asthma kids had to go to the nurse's office.” This conversation caused her to raise her head, placing her work aside and adjusting her glasses as she listened.

“Yeah, mine’s busted.” Melissa started. “And you can’t class up a rug like you can a couch with a nice coat of plastic.”

“You guys have rugs? All we have is a little mat.” Naoya started, looking between all of them. They all cringed at her words, but couldn’t say more before someone’s loud voice cut through the air.

“Hey-yo! What it does, baby-boo?” Ava yelled as she walked into the break room and over to where they were sitting. “What yall think about this little film crew I bought in here.”

“Distracting makes our jobs harder,” Melissa said disinterestedly, shooting the crew a glare.

“I wish I would have known this was going to be a video thing, I would have made myself look better,” Naoya mumbled, causing the camera to turn her way. She smiled, making her face appear happier than usual.

“But exciting. We about to be on TV.” Ava said, looking between them all.

“Because they are covering underfunded, loosely managed, public schools in America.” Barbra interrupted in a matter-of-fact tone.

“No press is bad press, Barb.” Ava practically disregarded the woman’s claim, continuing to smile at the camera. “Look at Mel Gibson. Still thriving.” She laughed. “ “Daddy’s Home 2”? Hilarious!” She looked around the room, either expecting people to laugh with or or just so confined in her large ego that she didn’t care if they laughed or not.

“Ava’s the worst person I know,” Noaya stated. “I’ve never seen her show an ounce of care about anything other than money. Which is a terrible mindset to have as a principal because you’re literally in the brokeest position of power.”

“There you are.” Ms.Schwartz sighed as she rushed into the room, spotting Ava. “Ava, can I talk to you?” The woman was out of breath as she stood before the principal, and her attire was disheveled. “I-I need an aid. I’m outnumbered there. The kids are crazy.” She ranted this wild look in her eyes. “One of the kids told me to ‘mind my six’ this morning, I don’t know what that means! I need help!” She ranted. Ava placed and hand on her shoulder.

“Calm down.” The darker woman said, cutting Ms. Schwartz off. “They’re just kids. And, besides, aids cost money, and we don’t have that.” She said before flashing a quick smile at the cameras. “Right, but I just—” Ms. Schwartz started again.

“Do you want to split your salary with somebody else?” Ava asked, leaning closer and angling both of them away from the cameras.

“No.” The other woman said dejected.

“No!” Ava cut her off before she could continue to rant. “No, I didn’t think so.”

“Well, if we can’t get aides, maybe we can get new rugs?” Janine chimed up, standing from her seat.

“All I’m hearing is “new, new, new, need, need, need,” Ava answered. “And yet, Barb, one of our best and most senior teachers here.” She continued, walking over to the older woman who sat at the table with Melissa and drank her coffee. “She never complains. What is your secret, Barb?”

“Knowing there’s not much you can do, Ava.” The woman said with a sarcastic smile. But Ava didn’t care to hear her condescending tone.

“So understanding.” The principal smiled, looking around the room. “Be like Ms.Howard, people.” That was all she said before she left the room.

Noaya shook her head as she started to collect her things, knowing the bell would be ringing anytime soon.

“But, I’m not Ms.Howard.” Ms.Schwartz cried from where she stood.

“Ohh, Tina, look.” Janine started, walking over to the stressed woman. “Try some counting exercises, between one and forty the kids start to quiet down.” The other woman gave a slight nod before she exited the room, still in obvious distress. “You, know, a little support might help make things happen, ladies,” Janie said, turning around to face the older two women in the room.

“My support was gonna do about as much as that five-year-old bra you’ve got on right there,” Barbra said as she pushed in her chair. The camera then cuts to Naoya staring at the camera, her jaw clenched. Janine looked down at her chest for a slip second, before covering it up with her sweater and deciding to ignore the woman’s bra statement. “Hey, it’s not impossible to get things. Melissa asked for those new toy cash registers for her classroom and got them.”

“Yeah, those aren’t toys.” The Italian woman stared as she put on her coat. “I know a guy who wired a Walmart demolition. I got a guy for everything. I know a guy right now working on the stadium build. Need rebar?” She asked, looking around the room.

Noya just shook her head.

“No,” Janine answered.

“Melissa is resourceful, capable.” Ms. Howard started, looking between all the younger teachers. Naoya’shead jerked back at what she was insinuating but before she could say anything, Janine placed a hand on her shoulder and started talking.

“Well, I think the younger teachers are capable.”

“Really? Then why is it that Ms.Schwartz’s hair is falling out? Why does Jacob here need a smoking break every five minutes?” The woman sassed, gesturing over to the male beside her.

“I switched to an herbal vape.” He tried to defend himself.

“And why can’t any of you stick it out longer than two years? More turnovers than a bakery.” She hissed before her and Melissa walked out of the door. Once it shut behind them, Naoya turned to her friends beside her.

“I almost lose my job every day dealing with the people here.” She shook her head, resting her butt on the table behind her, the other two following suit.

“You know what? Hell, I think we should still try for rugs.” Jacob’s said.

“Yeah.” Janine agreed.

“You know, before I taught here, I was in Zimbabwe.” Jacob started, causing Noaya to stand up completely and begin to walk to the door. “I was going Teachers Without Boarders, and what I learned—.”

“Jacob.” Noaya cut in, turning to face the two of them. “What did we say you about, like, not talking about your time in Africa?” She said, gesturing between her and Janine. The boy stuttered, trying to come up with an appropriate answer.

“We told you to stop. Yeah, it’s weird.” Janine finished, looking over at the male.

“I have an immense amount of respect for my elders, including the ones I work with.” Naoya smiled at the cameras. “But Mrs.Howard has a smart mouth on her. A mouth that has never been directed at me.” She continued to smile, although strained, and raised her hands in mock defense. “But the day it is the day I got to prison.” And although she was finished, she was cut off by the sound of quick hurried footsteps making their way around the corner. She turned around just in time to catch Janine with a student.

“Noaya, come quick, there’s a fight.” The older woman got out as best as she could, although out of breath. Naoya ran around the corner, practically leaving the child and shirt woman in the dust.

“Damn, she’s fast,” Janine said, briefing glancing at the kids next to her before rushing to follow the running woman.

“What the hell is going on here?” Naoya yelled as she entered the hectic scene with a bat in her hands. She saw the crazed look the teachers were giving her and she shrugged. “I heard there was a fight, I brought it just in case.”

“Where did you get that? I was right behind you.” Janie asked, out of breath with her hands on her knees.

“I didn’t know she had it in her like that.” Melissa nodded a proud smirk on her lips. “I like her.”

“That’s beside the point, what happened?” Naoya asked, looking at the older white woman standing in front of a child. “He hit me first!” Ms.Schwartz said, pointing at the boy across from her.

“Liar!” The boy yelled back at her, being held back by Ms.Howard.

“I’m a liar? I'M A LIAR?” Ms.Schwartz asked a crazed look in her eyes, her gaze solely trained on the little boy.

“I can’t believe she hit a kid,” Noaya said, shock written all over her face as she folded her arms. “I mean, I threaten that I will but I never actually do it.” She shrugged.

“Okay!” Ava yelled, interrupting the conversation between the small group of teachers. “So, not good. Ms.Schwartz was out of line and clearly didn’t know how to handle her class.” The woman sighed.

“You hired her.” Melissa spat back.

“And fired her,” Ava responded. “They give me a lot of power around here. It’s crazy.” The woman smirked.

Melissa and Noaya both gave the camera a look of disbelief.

“In the meantime, Mr.Johnson will be watching her class.” Ava finished.

“Mr.Johnson the janitor?” Naoya spoke up. “Our conspiracy theorist janitor? Teaching social studies? Do we not see the problem with this?” She asked, looking around at the group.

“I think maybe we should alert the school district to this,” Jacob spoke up, getting spins of approval from the rest. “I mean, a child was harmed.” He tried to finish before Ava cut in.

“Hey! Harmed?” She questioned. “I handled this. No need to let them know that a child was harmed on my wa—” She stopped, remembering that she was being recorded, and looked towards the camera. “On the school's watch, to be clear.” She clarified.

“Ava, this is not handled,” Janine spoke up. “There is a 70-year-old custodian who voted for Kanye teaching social studies right now.” The woman stressed, pointing down the hall. “We need help. Look, I know we don’t have any money—“

“Okay!” Ava cut her off. “Alright. I’ll make a small emergency budget request to the district, and then you guys can get pencils and hire aides or whatever else you need.”

“So, even rugs?” Janine asked her entire demeanor from earlier changing at the woman’s words.

“Sure! Just email a request.” Ava replied.

“Okay! I can- I can write an email.” Janine smiled excitedly.”

“Another day in principal life.” Ava smiled at the cameras before walking away, horribly singing some old song. “I believe the children are our future.”

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“Um…Hello?” An unfamiliar voice called out as she came into the school building, making their way to stand in front of the desk. “I’m looking for Ms.Coleman.” The man said. Melissa looked up at him. “Oh, yeah she’s—“ She was cut off by Ava rushing up next to her.

“Hello.” Again said flirtatiously, looking the man up and down.

“Hi, I’m Gregory Eddie. I’m the sun for the teacher who, uh…” He trailed off, looking down at the papers he pulled from his briefcase. “Pinter a student.” The man said worriedly, looking back up at her.

“Oh! You’re the sub.” Ava said. “Forgive me, I thought one of my colleagues here hired a stripper for me.” Ava laughed off, dismissing the looks Melissa and Barbra gave her. “Okay.” That was all Gregory could say to that, giving the woman obvious judgmental looks.

“Nice to meet you, young man.” Barbra offered him a kind smile.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, Ryan,” Melissa said, staring at the together papers.

“It’s Gregory.”

“Eh, let’s see how long you’ll be here.” She said, only flexing up after she was done stapling. “Then I’ll remember your name. Okay, Tim?”

Gregory didn’t even have time to fully digest the interactions he just had with the women before him before Jacob came around the corner. “Yes!” He smiled, stalking up to the man. “My dude.” He said, arms open for some sort of hug but was cut short by Gregory putting his hand out. “Oh, yeah,” Jacob said, placing his hand on the one offered out to him. “Keeping it profesh. I like that.” He smiled, leaning against the counter. “I’m Jacob. It’s nice to see another male teacher in here. It’s not a lot of us. Hey, now I got somebody to talk sports with. You like women’s tennis?” The paler man asked, before shooting the camera a sideways glance. “Or, as I call it, you know, regular tennis.”

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Naoya was walking the halls, whistling a tune with her bad over her shoulders when she came across a tall, good-looking man in a gray sweater. Hearing her, the man turned around to see a tall, light-skinned woman with a large, light brown puff ponytail at the back of her head. She had on specs that covered most of her face, enlarging her eyes. She was dressed in a slightly baggy pair of dark wash denim jeans with brown shoes that matched the brown in her green sweater, paired with a white shirt underneath. Seeing the mysterious man, she furrowed her brows at him from down the hall.

“Uh, hello.” The man waved awkwardly from down the hall.

Naoya waved back as she made her way closer to the man. “Uh, hi. Are you lost?” She asked, slowing down when she got in front of him. “In a school building?…And smelling like pee and/or vomit. I’m calling security.” She started to back up and pull out her phone, or even yell before she stopped and frowned. “Oh wait, I am security.” She said, moving her bat to her good hand getting ready to swing.

“Wait!” The man yelled, sticking out his hands in defense. “I’m a sub! I’m here to fill in for the woman who kicked the kid.” He defended.

Naoya visibly relaxed as she looked the man up and down, taking in his formal attire. “Okay.” She said, dropping her defensive pose. “That still doesn’t explain the smell.” She said, giving the man a disgusted once over. Gregory stuttered to get an answer, embarrassed by the cameras and such an awkward situation in front of another beautiful woman.

“It’s a long story. A broken toilet, a student wet his pants, another one threw up.” The man shrugged, a look of disgust crossing his face as he thought it all over. At his words, Noaya nodded with a look of understanding.

“No, yeah. I get it. Well, um, congratulations on being here considering…” She trailed off, gesturing around the school and then to him. “If you need anything at all, I’m at the very end of the hall. I'm Naoya Lovel, and I teach fourth grade. I’ll be here to help any way I can, I am known for having everything anyone might ever need, so.” She shrugged and began walking away, pat him, and to her class. The man nodded, a sliver of a smile on his face as his eyes stayed trained on the spot she just left. Catching the camera out of the corner of his eye, she quickly straightened up and then turned the opposite way to face her. “May I ask why you’re carrying a bat?” He asked.

Naoya stopped walking, the bad still in her hand as she angled her body slightly to look back at him. “No, you may not.” She said with a smile before continuing to walk away and into her classroom. Gregory just nodded and walked into his room as well.

“Today was utterly disgusting, but she and Janine seem nice.” He smiled slightly.

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“I got a good feeling about this,” Jacob smirked at Naoya and Janine as they and the rest of the teachers gathered outside at the entrance of the school. It had something to do with Ava needing them to see the improvements she made to the school. “Right? Me too!” Janine said excitedly. Naoya rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands in her pockets due to the cold weather.

“I wish I could live in the blissful ignorance you guys call optimism.” She said, looking between her two friends. They only rolled their eyes at the girl, who was usually a pessimistic person, so they didn’t take her words too seriously.

“Good morning!” Ava said to all the teachers before her, who were obviously in no good mood. “Good Morning!” Janine was the only one to respond.

“Gregory.” Ava finished, giving the man a look. Noaya furrowed her brows slightly, throwing the man a sideways glance.

“The district was so moved by my plea that they approved the emergency budget and sent us the money right away,” Ava said to the group. The crowd started clapping, Jacob and Janine were genuinely happy while most were in shock that the district pulled through.

“Okay, we could have hired aides, we could have got rugs.” Ava continued as the clapping died down. “But then I thought, “No. We need something more immediate.” She said, her words causing Naoya to nod her head as she began slowly making her way away from the group. She knew this wasn’t going to end well, and this was her stopping herself from throwing her loafers at Ava’s head.

“Oh, no, no. The rugs are immediate.” Janie spoke up. “They’re like instant Xanax for kids. I explained it all in my email.” She told the group as she made her way to extract her phone from her purse.

“Girl, who told you to send an email?” Ava asked, looking down the steps at the shorter woman. Jannie stopped what she was doing and glared at Ava. “You did.” She hissed, looking at her confused.

“Anyways, I always feel better when I get my hair done.” Ava continued, not caring for what Janine had to say, as she showed off her new blonde number. “Thus, I do better work, like I’m doing now.” She smiled at them. “You know, fix the outside, the inside takes care of itself.” She then gestured up to the giant tarp over the building, the man pulling it down to show a sign.

It was a giant Willard R. Abbott Elementary sign with Ava on it, leaning onto the letters. The teachers just stood there and looked up at the sign, no words were said between any of them. But they all had the same thought.

What the fuck?

“Yall seeing this?” Ava asked, copying her pose that was on the sign.

“A plastic sign?” Janine asked, looking between the woman and the sign.

“Thank God for the school district, because they gave us $3,000 and I had to spend all of it.” Ava said as if she didn’t care about the severity of the words she just said.

“You spent all of the money on this?!” Janie asked in disbelief.

“Rush job, can you believe this quality?” The terrible principal continued.

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“This is fucking ridiculous, she has gone too far,” Naoya said as she, Jacob, Janine, and Gregory rushed back into the school.

“Somebody needs to do something before I get my bat back out. Actually, Forget the bat, I’m gonna go get a gu—.”

“Okay! Yes.” Jacob cut her off, trying to ignore the scared look Noaya received from Janine and Gregory, while she just continued to sit in her anger, not even seeing them. “Somebody, anybody but you, should do something.” The man said to the angry woman.

“You know what. I’m gonna do something.” Janine said, as stored up and Naoya. Well, maybe not as much but still fired up.

“Okay, alright. Whatever you do, I will co-sign it.” Jacob encouraged. “Yes!” Janine said. “That is how change works. Someone does something and somebody co-signs it.” He finished.

“I want Jannie to succeed in what her plan is because Ava needs to be out in her place, “professionally”, or whatever Jacob said,” Naoya stated, rolling her eyes. “But I also want her to prove something to Barb. For her sake. Because Janine really needs a mother figure in her life and the constant groveling for Barb’s praise is starting to make me want to choke.” She finished with a shrug. “That’s my girl though, I love her.”

“Hey, you two, wait up! I’m going out to lunch too.” Janie called out to Melissa and Bard as they walked down the hall. The camera caught Naoya, who rolled her eyes at the situation she was just talking about making an appearance as she walked after Janine.

“Oh yeah, where are you going for lunch pip-squeak? Bird feeder?” Melissa joked, putting her purse over her shoulder.

“Thought you’d be working on your next miracle from Saint Ava.” Barbra pushed.

“Ha ha, No.” The shorter woman defended herself. “I don’t think I’ll need anything from Ava ever again.” Janine smiled, her words causing the other three women to look confused.

“What does that mean?” Naoya chimed in from behind them, ready to go out for lunch as well.

“Well, I emailed the superintendent and told him everything Ava has done today. No way she doesn’t get fired.” Janie bragged.

“Oh, for the lives of God.” Melissa groaned.

“Janine,” Noaya said in disappointment. “This is why I told you to tell me.”

“What?” She asked, looking between the three women.

“The superintendent never sees our emails,” Barbra told her. “He has them bounced back to the person in charge of where they came from.”

“Wait, I’m sorry.” Janie stared. “Person in charge? That means the emails go back to…” She trailed off, the dots connecting. Just in time for said person to come in the intercom with an announcement.

“Teachers, it’s come to my attention that some of you—one of you—.” Ava clarified, looking through the glass of her office at the group of women standing at the door, her eyes trained on one in particular. “Think it’s okay to go over my head. So, during lunch break—this lunch break—we’ll be having a trait workshop so that we can learn how to become a woke family.” The woman was clearly pissed off, glaring at Janine from where she sat. “It’s gonna be fun!”

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“We are at a crossroads, this is a crisis,” Ava stressed as she stood before the hired group of teachers.

“No, a crisis is eating the cafeteria pizza for lunch.” Naoya chimed in from where she sat in the back.

“Uh, why are we here, exactly?” Gregory asked his seat right in front of hers.

“Well, chocolate drop.” Ava started, causing Naoya to snicker at the name. “I learned that someone here doesn’t respect me. But it’s not about me. Because if you don’t respect me, how can you respect this school?” She continued, causing them all to look at her confused as such a stupid correlation. But, it looks like Ava took that as a look of confusion due to her question.

“You can’t. It’s mathematically impossible.” She finished.

“W-Whoa. Who doesn’t respect you, Ava—I mean, the school?” Jacob asked.

“Me,” Naoya said but seemed to be completely ignored.

“It’s not important. We’re gonna make this a group matter so as too not to single any one person out.” The woman answered him. “Let’s try an excuse where we say whatever we want out loud to each other, no matter how critical. It’ll be fun, let’s start with Janine.” She said, looking over at the short woman who was practically shrinking in on herself.

“Janine?” She asked, smirking evilly.

“Yes?” Janine asked dejectedly, knowing that this whole situation was her fault and knowing that Ava did the exact thing she said she didn’t want to. Single her out.

“You’re pushy, squeaky and annoying,” Ava stated.

Collective disagreement was heated around the room.

“Excuse me?” Melissa piped up.

“Thaya just…” Gregory said.

“When is it my turn?” Naoya asked, starting to take her earring out of her ear.

“No, it’s not bad. No.” Ava defended. “We’re shaking to make us all better. Constructive. Hershey kiss, why don’t you try, start with Janine.” She pushed.

“I don’t want to.” The man sighed.

“You’re right, it should be someone who knows her better. Noaya, Jacob, Barbra?” She asked, looking between the two.

“When is it your turn? I wanna go when it’s your turn.” Naoya stated, folding her arms to keep herself at bay. Gregory glanced back, seeing the look of pure hatred on her face.

“Well, her hair is—“ Jacob started before getting cut off.

“Not!” Noaya and Barba said at the same time, the younger more so talking to her friend next to Janine, who gave the man next to her a look of disbelief.

“Ava, no one’s doing this to anyone.” Melissa started, looking at the woman before her.

“Hold on, I came prepared for this. Sheena, come on in.” Ava said, looking behind her to a student who was sitting behind the library desk.

“Ava, that is my student, she should be at lunch right now,” Janine complained, as everyone in the room looked at the little girl, trying to see what Ava's plan was.

“I am kinda hungry.” The little girl sighed, begrudgingly walking closer to the woman.

“Sheena, remember what we talked about? What was the thing that you wished was different about Ms.Teagues?” Ava asked the little girl. She just stood there, not knowing what to say as the whole room waited on her.

“She got some big feet.” Mr.Johnson chimed in from the very back of the children’s library where he was sweeping.

“Okay.” Janine sighed before standing from her seat. “Everyone, that’s enough. I am the person who disrespected Ava. I emailed the superintendent to tell him that she spent the school's money on a sign.”

“And got her hair done,” Naoya said, Janine, gesturing over to her in agreement.

“I’m sorry, Ava.” She continued. “And I’m sorry everyone missed lunch, especially you, Sheena. But I didn’t it because I care about the kids in this school, and that shouldn’t be a bad thing.” She ranted. “I—Okay. You know what.” She sighed, done talking. She felt as if no one was listening anyway and just wanted to leave. She was on her way out before turning back around. “Sheena, you should have this. I’m sorry.” She said, handing the school pizza over to the girl.

“Uh, no thank you.” The girl said, shaking her head. Janine just sighed again and turned to leave.

Ava chuckled as she watched the girl walk off, shaking her head. “Not a compelling speaker.” She smirked as she shook her head. “Charisma vacuum, am I right?”

Noaya cracked her neck as she stood up. The teachers in front of her filmed a little at the sound and her sudden movements. But she ignored that. “You know what, Ava? I was going to whoop your ass in the parking lot, and as much satisfaction as that would bring me, I don’t want to lose my job. Because I care about these kids. Just like Janine. And she may be a lot of things, like naive, a bit clingy and too cheerful—.”

“Ooh, this is good stuff, let me call her back in here,” Ava smirked as if she didn’t hear the first part of the girls’ speech.

“But she is also right.” Barba cut in, standing up with Naoya. “You know, actually wanting to help the children at this school shouldn’t be a bag thing.” The older woman finished for her. Afterwards, both her and Naoya walked out, letting Ava sit with their words.

They walked out to find the girl in front of her classroom, looking through the window. “Janine, ignore Ava. Big feet are a sign of fertility.” Barbra stated.

“I’m telling you to just give me the signal, I can have her framed for mur—something.” The light skinned girl said, catching herself in front of the cameras.

“Every lunch period, guys.” Was all Janine said before stepping out of their way to show the inside of her class. They both looked in seeing a little boy napping on his jacket, as the library door sounded again. “Every single one, Amir comes and naps in the rug.” She said, informing the whole group as Melissa, Jacob and Gregory joined.

“Mm-hmm. He was in my class.” Barbra said with a fond smile on her face. Mom’s got a lot of kids. Dad’s not around and when she is, the parents fight.”

“Right, so he doesn’t get much sleep. I told him to sleep at his desk, but she says that rug is softer—.” The shirt woman paused, trying to get emotional over the whole situation. “Softer than his bed at home.” There was a moment of silence as all the adults sat with her words. It’s hard hearing about the life of the kids you see everyday, knowing they live lives no one should. And knowing it’s on you to create a better life for them at school.

“You know what? I don’t care I you think I’m good at this or not anymore. I care about whether or not I can make a change.” Janine told Barbra as sternly as she could, which wasn’t a lot.

“Janine.” The woman started. “Teachers at a school like Abbott— we have to be able to do it all. We are admin, we are social workers, we are therapists, we are second parents. Hell, sometimes we’re even first.”

“Mm-hmm.” Melissa agreed.

“Why?” Barbra continued. “It sure ain’t the money.”

“Yup. I can make more working the street, easy.” Melissa chimed in. Causing Jacob and Naoya to look at each other in concern.

“Prostitution?” She mouthed over to the man, who shrugged.

“Look, we do this ‘cause we’re supposed to.” Melissa said to Janine. “It’s a calling. You answered.”

They all looked at eachother fondly, before Jacob started.

“I believe it was Brother Cornel West—“

“No.”

“Don’t.”

“Not right now, white boy.”

They all told him, causing the man to retreat back to his corner.

“You want to know my secret?” Barbra asked, ringing the subject back to where it was. “Do everything you can for your kids.” She smiled. “We’ll help. Hey, I suggest we put our money together and buy Janine the rug.” The older woman encouraged. “What yall think?”

“Absolutely.” Melissa said, pulling out her wallet.

“Guys, you can’t.” Janine started, looking between them. “You don’t have it. I know because I have the same salary as you and I overdrafted on a doughnut hole this morning.”

“Don’t tell me how much money I have.” Noaya stated, holding her hand out as a halt to the girl's words. “I do not claim that broke energy.”

“Well, why are you gonna do?” Barbra asked. “Steal a rug?”

“Not me, but I know a guy who knows a guy?” Janie trailed off, looking between Noaya and Melissa. The light skinned girl raised her hands. “I don’t know a cute guy that can steal that many carpets that fast.” She shrugged, a hopeless look on her face as she glanced at Melissa.

“Way ahead of you.” The woman said as she started typing into her phone. “I’m gonna have to bake a ziti.” She said, holding the phone up to her ear. “Hey, Tony, ya big strung, listen, you still working that stabiuk build?” She said into the device as she walked away from the group.

Sometime later, a guys pulled up in a truck around back with a bunch of rugs for them. They all celebrated, going one by one to grab a rug. “Yay! I finally have one! My room was so depressing.” Naoya said as she waked down the hall with her rug.

“You’re on a mission.” Gregory stated, looking at the shorter girl in between him and Noaya. “It’s cool to see.”

“Thank you. Just a day in the life of being a teacher here. You get used to it.” Janine smiled.

“And that smell in the walls?” He asked, pointing.

“Oh no, you’re never gonna get used to that. Sometimes I wish I had a bad nose like Naoya.” She joked, elbowing the girl next to her. The taller woman lightly groaned. “Janine, you know that’s a big insecurity of mine. I have a fear of smelling bad.” The half Japanese girl tried to clarify to the male. “You’re subbing to go full time right?” She asked, wanting to change the subject.

“Um, we’ll see.” He said as they all briefly stopped in the hallway. “This job definitely surprises me.”

“Well, I hope you stay.” Janine said. “For the kids.” She clarified. Naoya shot a quick glacé to the camera, a small smirk on her face. She then decided to walk away. The camera caught Gregory’s eyes jumping from both women walking away, a small smile on his face. He then looked in the camera and dropped his expression.

“I’ll stick around for a while.” He said. “You know, for the kids.”

“Look guys!” Naoya said as she rolled out her shakes rug for her students. They all celebrated, clapping excitedly at the fact that they had a rug now.

“Ms.Lovel, I hate the egales.” One student said, standing next to the woman.

“Yeah, me too, kid. But don’t tell anyone I said that.” She said, patting the top of their head as Ava walked past her door. She paused at the sight of the rugs. Naoya placed her hands on her hips and cocked her neck, making Ava glare at the woman for a quick second before walking away.

“And that kids, is how you get rid of the enemy without fighting.” She said, pointing around the room to make sure they were watching. “Now that we have a rug, let’s watch that nature documentary!” She said excitedly, causing all the students to yell with excitement well.

346 notes · View notes

thedensworld · 6 months ago

Text

Top 10 Anime Betrayal | K.Mg

Genre: fluff, est. Relationship

Summary: It's hot news, and you can't help but share it with your boyfriend because Mingyu always loves your stories—top 10 anime betrayal level.

Author note: literally based on a recent experience of mine. I'm done with them凸( •̀_•́ )凸

“I swear this one takes the top spot on my list,” Mingyu giggled, recalling your earlier struggle to articulate what had left you so speechless. You had been fuming, your voice caught somewhere between disbelief and anger, too stunned to say anything coherent when he first asked you what was going on.

“So, now you’re ready?” he teased, leaning back as he observed you intently. He noted that your breaths were steadier, your flushed cheeks had regained their normal color, and the fire in your tone had simmered down, if only just a little.

You nodded, taking a deep breath before starting. Mingyu tightened his hold around your waist, drawing you closer. The two of you were sitting on the couch, your legs draped over his as you straddled his lap, his face inches away from yours. The proximity between you revealed just how eager and passionate you were to share this news.

“I told you about Yunji last night, right?”

Mingyu’s eyes lit up with recognition. Of course, he remembered Yunji—one of your closest friends. She was a sweet girl, full of kindness and patience, but she had unfortunately ended up with a very toxic and manipulative man. Yunji had been dating this guy for five years, and you and your other friend, Dain, had tried numerous times to show her what kind of person he really was—a cheater, a liar, and emotionally abusive.

Mingyu’s jaw had dropped when you first told him about the time Yunji’s boyfriend almost slapped her, and how he always tried to undermine her achievements, belittling her and making her feel small. You had recounted how you confronted Yunji with all the things you’d uncovered about him, only for Yunji to respond with words that had left you devastated. “I don’t know who to believe.”

“She didn’t believe me, babe. It broke my heart,” you’d confided in Mingyu that night, tears of frustration and hurt streaming down your face. Mingyu had held you in his arms for hours, whispering comforting words and stroking your hair until you finally drifted off to sleep, both of you still aching from Yunji’s refusal to see the truth.

Last night, Yunji had texted the group chat in a frenzy, saying she’d finally caught him cheating. She’d found messages on his smartwatch, which he’d accidentally left at her house. You’d been beside yourself with joy and relief. “I can’t believe the time has finally come! Oh my God, I’m so happy!” you’d exclaimed, clutching Mingyu’s arm as you read out the messages. Yunji had said she was going to break up with him for good, and Mingyu, despite being half-asleep, had listened patiently to your excited ramblings, smiling softly as you kissed him goodnight. “I always knew he was a cheater. I’m just glad she’s finally aware now. Thank God you’re not like him, love.”

But now, here you were, with an entirely different expression on your face.

“It was a misunderstanding,” you muttered, the words tasting bitter as they left your mouth.

Mingyu’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean, honey?”

You let out a frustrated sigh. “The messages weren’t his. They were his brother’s. Apparently, his brother had been using the smartwatch until just yesterday, and the messages got left behind when they switched.”

Mingyu still didn’t get it. “But… they’re still breaking up, right?”

You scoffed, bitterness seeping into your tone. “I wish.”

Mingyu’s eyes widened. “No? Really? She’s staying with him?”

“And you know what she said after all of this?” You paused, glancing at your phone, as if reading her words would make them any less painful. “She said, ‘It was a misunderstanding, and I have to settle everything. Let’s not talk about this for now.’”

Mingyu blinked, sharing your expression of betrayal. “That’s it? After everything you and Dain did for her?”

You shrugged, showing him the last text you’d sent in the group chat. “I told her I’m done with this shit.” Your voice shook as you remembered the sleepless nights and the hours you’d spent worrying about her, all gone to waste. “I told her I’m here for her if she needs company, but if she wants to vent about her sad life with that shitty boyfriend, I’m out.”

Mingyu scanned the message you’d sent, his gaze softening as he looked back up at you. “You did the right thing,” he murmured, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. “I know she’s your best friend, but she really discredited you and Dain by saying that.”

“I know,” you mumbled into his neck, fighting back the urge to cry. “I didn’t lose sleep for nothing!” Your voice wavered, your exhaustion seeping through.

Mingyu chuckled softly, rubbing small circles on your back. “Let’s go to sleep, baby. You need to rest. No more thinking about them.”

You lifted your head, nodding with a resigned smile. “Right?! I don’t need to think about them. I don’t have to care anymore. Screw them both. If she needs me, I’ll be there, but I’m not wasting any more energy on this drama.”

With a soft grunt, Mingyu stood up, carefully cradling your body that still clung to his. “Alright, baby girl. Now it’s time for you to get some real rest.”

You hummed contentedly, nuzzling into his neck as he carried you to bed. “I love you…” you whispered.

Mingyu smiled, his heart swelling with warmth as he gazed down at you. “I love you more, love. Now sleep.”

With him holding you close, the weight of betrayal and heartache slowly began to melt away, leaving you cocooned in the safety and comfort of his embrace. And for the first time in days, you felt like you could finally breathe again.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #densworld🌼#seventeen scenarios #seventeen series #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagine #mingyu imagines #mingyu oneshot #mingyu fanfic #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #mingyu scenarios

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stardustvanfleet · 1 year ago

Text

Rediscovery — Josh Kiszka x F!Sapphic!Reader

SMUT. 18+ ONLY! MDNI!!!

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x F!Sapphic!Reader

Word Count: 10k

Summary: Your crush on your best friend, Josh, has been becoming harder and harder to ignore. There’s only one thing holding you back from admitting your feelings— most of your experience has been with other women, and you know that Josh’s history is equal and opposite, having mostly been with other men. But after one of your usual nights out, aided by a few drinks and a joint, things are finally coming to the surface. And you’re about to rediscover everything, together.

Warnings: Friends to lovers smut with switchy!Josh. Oral (m & f receiving), fingering/handjob, unprotected sex, dirty talk. Both the F!reader and Josh are written as explicitly queer in this fic.

A/N: This might be one of the most self-indulgent fics I’ve ever written… and I couldn’t be more excited to finally share it with everyone after spending the last few months working on it. I’ve noticed that even though there’s a huge sapphic community in the Peaceful Army, there aren’t a lot of fics written from the perspective of an explicitly queer woman! I absolutely poured my heart into this one and I have some amazing friends I need to thank for the endless encouragement and inspiration. My best friend, @sinsofstardust — thank you for all the hours of discussion that lead to SO many incredible ideas. I love you ENDLESSLY!!! I also want to give HUGE thanks to my loves, @jakesguitarsolo @losfacedevil @kenobicoffee for being my beta readers and giving me the motivation I needed to finish writing 10,000 words… I love all of you SO much 🤍

FIC BEGINS BELOW THE CUT!

There was just something about Josh Kiszka.

Maybe it was the way he seemed to radiate a kind of warm, exuberant energy; one that was impossible to ignore from the moment he walked into the room. Maybe it was the little gap between his teeth when he grinned that you’d found yourself immediately drawn to, or those wide, sparkling brown eyes. There could have been a hundred reasons, and, in truth, it was more than likely that there were that many— and then some.

Regardless of what had caused it, the fact that you had a rapidly developing crush on your best friend was becoming harder and harder to push into the back of your mind.

You and Josh had met almost a year ago now. One of your favorite bars downtown had karaoke nights on Thursdays, and on a whim, you had come in after a particularly stressful day at work. You weren’t planning on doing anything but sip your drink and listen to strangers perform their favorite songs, but to your surprise, the curly-haired man sitting next to you at the bar had struck up a conversation so easily and naturally you couldn’t help but fall comfortably into chatting with him. The two of you had a lot of things in common, with a similar love of music and an interest in meditation. And when he told you he was going to go up and sing, he offered his arm as an invitation, which you gladly took, leaving you blown away by his voice as he covered Adele better than anyone you’d ever heard. The two of you had spent the entire night talking, and had exchanged numbers with the intention of hanging out some more, and over the next several months, you two had become incredibly close. And yet— there was one important caveat that, beyond his standard affectionate touches, had kept things between you and Josh entirely platonic.

One of the biggest things that you and Josh had bonded over during your numerous deep conversations was the similar way you both seemed to experience your sexualities. Like Josh, you didn’t put a label on yourself, finding that the way you felt love and attraction to be hard to pinpoint under one term, but the majority of the lovers you’d had throughout your life had been other women. Josh’s history was both equal and opposite, with his experience mostly having been with other men. Being queer was something that was extremely important to both of you, and you knew that. And yet, throughout it all, the increasing feelings you held for Josh were growing stronger and stronger. Eating you alive. Burning into your mind and body.

Talking to Josh was always so easy. So why did it feel so impossible to breach this particular topic?

It had been another one of your frequent nights out with Josh. The two of you had gotten into a routine of meeting up at least once a week for drinks and a joint or two, and it quickly became evident to you that spending time with Josh was undoubtedly the highlight of your week. Knowing you’d be able to sit with him, laughing and joking and talking about everything that had stressed you out over the past several days, had become a thought that would get you through even the most difficult times. You tried not to linger too hard on what this could possibly mean for you and your heart, and instead let yourself just try to enjoy the present moment with the ethereal man sitting beside you on the couch.

It was late, very late. Tonight, you’d met up with Josh at a local bar that he had introduced you to a few months earlier, one that was only a few blocks from his apartment. His neighborhood was easy to get to from where you worked, but it was admittedly somewhat out of the way from where you lived. By the time the two of you left the bar, the trains had stopped running, and Josh had insisted that you shouldn’t have to pay a small fortune for an Uber when he had a perfectly good spare room in his apartment.

Josh’s apartment was just as cozy and inviting as he was, and his living room featured a low coffee table surrounded by beanbags and large floor cushions. The couch was pressed back against a cream-white wall decorated with prints and paintings that surely all had a story behind them, framed by the glow of string lights and the numerous plants both lining the walls and hanging from the ceiling. He had immediately offered you one of his t-shirts, and a pair of his own pajama pants that fit you surprisingly well, given that you were both of similar height.

And now, here you were, sitting side-by-side with Josh on his couch as he lit up a joint, with one of his favorite records playing softly on the turntable in the corner. The domesticity of the moment was not lost on you— the clothes you had borrowed still smelled like him, his intoxicating androgynous scent of spicy bergamot and soft jasmine. You both had already had several drinks over the course of the night, and Josh’s cheeks had flushed to a familiar rosy pink that signified his tipsiness. As of right now, all of your energy was going towards not letting your gaze linger on how beautiful he looked. On how hard your heart was beating.

As Josh took a long drag from the joint, his eyes fluttered shut, and you felt your heart skip a beat, unable to stop yourself from watching him. You were still gazing at him when his eyes slowly opened through his long exhale, the cloud of smoke intertwining with the plumes rising from the incense he had burning on the coffee table. He turned to face you as he cleared his throat a little, giving you an affectionate smile and holding out the joint for you to take, which you gladly accepted. Your fingers brushed his as he passed it to you, and you tried to ignore the way the contact made your brain start to buzz.

Now Josh was watching you as you took your hit, his eyes already a little glazed over as the high began to settle in. That was when he spoke, using his favorite pet name for you that you liked far too much to ever admit. “Doin’ alright, mama? Hope I’ve been a good host, though if I haven’t, I’ll be blaming the Fireball.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little as you exhaled your first hit, nodding towards Josh and managing a grin as you said, “Josh, I promise, you’d be a better host blackout drunk than most people would be sober.”

His face lit up at your words, and he let out a laugh of his own as he replied, “I’ll be sure to hold you to that statement if I manage to set the whole damn place on fire,” his eyes lazily following the plumes of smoke you had exhaled before his gaze fell back on you when you giggled, his pupils blown wide in the low light.

“Okay, now that sounds like you,” you teased, moving to pass the joint back to Josh. As the familiar hazy feeling began to settle over your mind and body, you found yourself inching just a bit closer to him as he took it from between your fingertips, bringing it to his lips with a smirk and a twinkle in his eye as you continued, “Well, if it comes to it, I’ll make sure to implement an accidental-house-fire clause in my perfect host assessment…”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he grinned, the joint dangling between his teeth as he did so, and when his mouth suddenly closed around the end to pull a deep hit, the sight of his plush, puckered lips sucking around the joint was enough to make your head spin. He held the smoke in for a moment, before pulling the joint from his lips with two fingers, letting his jaw fall slack and exhaling the smoke in one large cloud, a sight so effortlessly sexy it made your breath catch in your throat. Josh turned to you, and you thanked your lucky stars that any difficulties you were having finding your breath could be chalked up to the smoke now beginning to accumulate in the room. His head cocked to the side just slightly as he looked over at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, his eyes having grown heavy-lidded as the weed began to take its effect. “Well, I’ll say tonight’s adventure got us off to an interesting start…”

You began to giggle again, memories of the evening you two had enjoyed so far flashing through your mind. Overall, it had been another fun and relaxed night out, with you and Josh having met at the bar and recounted how the past week had gone in your usual playful fashion, delving into the stress you’d been dealing with at work and his frustrations with his brothers through overdramatic storytelling and a lot of inside jokes.

After you two had been out for an hour or two and were beginning to feel pleasantly tipsy, two people had sat down at the small high-top table beside yours— a guy and a girl that looked to be around your age. They had been speaking loud enough that it quickly became evident that they were on a first date… and it became increasingly clear to you and Josh throughout the night that this couple’s date was not going well. You had spent the next hour or two getting increasingly tipsier and trying to stifle your laughter whenever the man at the other table made another comment about his crypto startup.

“We really got our own personal reality TV show tonight,” you agreed with a laugh, unable to take your eyes off of Josh as he took another drag, his brows furrowing for a moment as he held the smoke in. Beginning to exhale, he started giggling through it, and you felt your heart rate heighten even further.

“Talk about shitty dates,” he said, shaking his head as if to express pity. “And I’ve been on my fair share of dates with mediocre men…”

“That guy doesn’t even get the recognition of being called mediocre,” you said decidedly, taking the joint when Josh offered it to you again, before he leaned back against the couch, stretching his arms out against the back of it as he watched you speak and grab the lighter. “He didn’t even let her get a word in edgewise…”

“Ouch! Tell me how you really feel…” Josh said with feigned betrayal, making you laugh again and move even closer to him so you could smack his arm playfully— the feeling of his firm bicep underneath your hand making your brain grow cloudy for a moment.

“Oh, shut up, Josh… it’s cute when you do it,” you teased, feeling a twinge in your own heart while using words that were so secretly reflective of your own feelings, but this was how your friendship with Josh had always been. Verbally and physically affectionate, especially in these moments—- but platonic. Never escalating. “Besides, you don’t ramble about crypto…”

Josh nodded, grinning and sticking his tongue between his teeth; “Okay, you’ve got me there.” While gazing over at him, you found yourself caught off guard by the way his cheeks suddenly seemed to be reddening even further. Reminding yourself that Josh blushed frequently, and that this could be caused by any number of things, you did your best to shove any distracting thoughts as far back into your mind as you possibly could while lighting up the joint again. It’s nothing. He’s your best friend; that’s all. Your thoughts, however, were interrupted by Josh’s voice, which continued, “Although, I don’t think he’s as bad as the guy I saw that one time who yelled at the waiter…” As Josh recounted how awful this one particular date was, complete with impressions of the terrible guy in question, you were giggling wildly, the high only intensifying the absurdity of the guy’s entitlement in the story.

“And that is exactly why it’s been so long since I’ve dated a man,” you laughed, shaking your head, remembering the nightmarish experience you had a few years ago that had made you opt for a long break on going out with men. “The last date I had with a guy? Absolutely terrible. I swear… he was trying to get in the Guinness Book of World Records for ‘most complaints on a first date’…”

Josh laughed at your sarcasm, watching with amusement as you took your hit. You could feel his eyes on you, even when your own eyelids fluttered shut thanks to the smoke you were holding in. You let out a long, slow exhale, and when you opened your eyes to let your gaze fall on Josh again, you found yourself wondering if he had inched a bit closer while you weren’t watching him— then quickly doubted your own assumption, telling yourself it must be the high only making it seem that way. Once you had taken your hit, you continued, hoping you were maintaining your external composure, “Seriously, you’d think he had a personal best that he was trying to beat. Nothing was sacred. The restaurant, the people around us, my outfit…”

“Your outfit?” Josh asked incredulously, shaking his head in astonishment as you handed him the joint again, which was now over halfway gone. “Well, if he screwed it up with you, I already could’ve told you that he had bad fucking taste, but that really seals the deal…”

You felt heat rising in your cheeks at the compliment, reaching out and squeezing his arm affectionately in thanks without even thinking, making him giggle— the sound of which left you positively reeling. The high which had settled over you made everything feel a bit hazy, a bit dreamy, on top of the fact that you couldn’t take your eyes off of Josh. Everything about him was just as intoxicating as the liquor and the weed you’d shared that night, if not more so, and you could feel your heart hammering in your chest as he took another slow, long hit, while you continued talking to fill the silence that threatened to tug even harder on your heartstrings. “Seriously, though… I can’t believe he was the last man I ever fucking kissed.”

Josh’s head suddenly turned to face yours, the joint smoldering between his fingertips. He raised an eyebrow, and gave you a look that mixed pity with disbelief, along with… some other emotion, one that you couldn’t quite place. “You actually kissed that guy, mama?” There was a touch of irritation in his voice that, if you didn’t know better, you might have placed as jealousy.

You kicked yourself mentally for the thought, while simultaneously, you hadn’t moved your hand from Josh’s arm. For some reason, the pull felt magnetic.

Scoffing a little, you nodded, saying, “I know… not my ideal scenario.” In your tipsy, high state, the words seemed to be spilling from you without any internal consideration, and suddenly, you found yourself blurting out, “I mean… him? Why couldn’t it have been another guy, someone I actually like being around… or literally anybody else?”

As soon as the words fell from your lips, they were hanging in the air. Floating. The breath left your lungs in an instant when you realized what you’d just said, as Josh’s brows furrowed for a moment, those particular words seemingly bouncing around inside his mind. He blinked a couple of times, his lips parting slightly, and it was impossible not to notice the way his gaze seemed to intensify, studying you a little. He cocked his head, the rise and fall of his chest having intensified as you felt your heart rate heighten even further— and that’s when he finally opened his mouth to speak, his brown eyes on you, his pupils blown wide.

“Y/N… do you… do you want it to be… somebody else? The last man you kissed?”

Your mouth fell open, but your thoughts were moving so much quicker than your words could. All you could manage was a soft utterance of “Josh…” as his gaze once again fell to your lips. More openly this time. Lingering. Your head was spinning, your fingertips beginning to grip tighter at his arm. You knew you had to find your words before you lost the wave of courage that was beginning to wash over you, and breathlessly, you let out a soft, “Yeah, I do… I just never thought…”

All coherent thoughts fell apart when Josh’s hand suddenly rested on top of yours, and you trailed off, your breath catching in your throat. Quickly and almost effortlessly, without ever letting his gaze leave yours, he ashed the smoldering joint in the little glass tray on the table with his other hand, and he murmured, “Neither did I…” beginning to lean closer, starting to close the distance between the two of you. Through your rapidly increasing lightheadedness, your lips were already parting in anticipation, your mind racing, your hands trembling. Inches turned to centimeters, and then millimeters.

And when he finally caught your lips with his, it was as if the whole world melted away around you. There was nothing else. Nothing but Josh, his lips taking you in passionately and eagerly, the feeling of his warm, flushed skin against your own…. and, soon enough, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip, as if begging for entry— which you couldn’t help but grant. You could feel his soft facial hair brushing against you as he deepened the kiss, and the feeling was both new and dizzying. All inhibitions you had been holding within you melted entirely away as Josh licked into your mouth, and you found yourself falling into him, your bodies colliding and hands beginning to reach out, touch, grab. Without ever letting his lips leave yours, he was suddenly pulling you by the waist into his lap, and you were letting him, throwing your arms around his neck and fully straddling him, savoring the heat of his body underneath you, the feeling of his firm, solid chest… god, it was all so new, and intoxicating beyond belief.

His kiss was warm, inviting, and all-consuming. A fire had been lit within you, burning incessantly and licking up through your lower stomach as Josh let out a soft sound resembling a moan right into your mouth. It was so pretty, with the slightest hint of a whine, and the thought of hearing more from Josh… sounds increasing in need as he slowly unraveled… immediately made you lightheaded with arousal. An involuntary moan that matched his in its intensity slipped from somewhere deep within you as Josh’s tongue explored your mouth, and the instant tightening of his grip on your waist and arching of his hips right up against you proved beyond any doubt that your sounds were eliciting a similar reaction from the man beneath you. You moaned again, louder this time, and Josh groaned immediately, pulling back just enough to murmur a breathless “You sound… fuckin’ divine, mama,” before hungrily pulling you right back in, your hands sliding up to tangle in his curls, tugging at his roots as he hummed with satisfaction and need, right against your lips.

You were rolling your hips against him now— and with a nearly overwhelming shock of desire, you were suddenly aware of the way Josh was hardening underneath you as he continued to sigh and moan into your mouth. Most of the people you’d been with didn’t have the anatomy that Josh had, and the realization that you were making him hard had you lightheaded. Breathlessly, you started giggling into the kiss, and he pulled back for just a moment to look at you curiously, his cheeks flushed red and his brown eyes wide, sparkling. “What are you giggling at, mama?” he asked playfully, sticking his tongue between his teeth as he watched you rock against him, his pupils dilated with lust.

“It’s just… oh, fuck…” you giggled again, throwing your head back for a moment as you let the feeling of him underneath you just wash over you. “God… I forgot what that felt like, Josh….”

He was licking his bottom lip now, looking just as giddy and flustered as you felt. When Josh’s gaze pulled itself away from your eyes for a moment, he let it drag down your body, right down to where you were grinding down onto him, before right back up to resume looking right at you– as if he were able to see something far deeper in you than what was on the surface. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“Tell me, mama…” he started, his voice low and breathless, his eyes remaining on you as he began to roll his hips to the rhythm you had established. “...tell me how it feels.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his ability to slip so easily back and forth from needy to commanding making your head spin, and the word slipping out made Josh lick his lips, clearly enjoying being able to watch your expression shift as your arousal grew. Focusing on every feeling, you breathed out, “So good, Josh. Feels so fucking good…”

“Paint me a picture, mama…” he sighed, his eyes glazed over with desire, his hands beginning to glide up and down your body, exploring you slowly and passionately, as though trying to commit your every inch to memory by means of touch alone. Everything had escalated so suddenly, in such a frenzy of accidental admissions, and you didn’t even care. You couldn’t even begin to think of a damn thing beyond what was happening in this present moment, and just how fucking badly you needed him. You couldn’t believe how wet he had made you so quickly.

His desire to hear you speak on your pleasure was intoxicating. You were breathing heavily, unable to take your eyes off of him. He looked angelic, his curls framing his face so delicately and beautifully despite the way your fingers had been knotting into his hair moments earlier. Josh was practically glowing in the dim, warm light, his features illuminated in a way that was simply and undeniably breathtaking. There was a look in his eyes that was making your whole body tremble, and the feeling of his cock continuing to harden underneath you was almost overwhelming. You had never felt an ache quite like this one before. It was different, and it was… good. Focusing all of your attention on exactly what you could feel beneath you as you both grinded against each other, the words left your lips in a breathless, rambling moan.

“Feels… so fucking hard… and thick, Josh… oh, God… I’m soaked… I’m burning for you…”

He let out a shaky groan, his plush lips falling open as he watched your eyes flutter shut while still rocking against him— and you let out a soft cry of need when you felt him twitch against your clit through the layers of fabric between you. “Fuck… mama, you’re a poet…” he panted, leaning his head back for a moment as he bucked his hips up against you. “God… It’s been so fucking long…” When the words left his lips, the thought occurred to you that, just like it had admittedly been a long while since you’d been with a man, it had likely been just as much time since Josh had been with a woman— and the realization somehow made your hunger for him grow even greater.

“Too many clothes,” you managed to gasp out, and Josh was nodding, his eyes having darkened even further, allowing himself to pull his hands from your body long enough to sit back and watch as you pulled your top— his own t-shirt —over your head, throwing it onto the floor without a second thought. You had taken your bra off when you changed into his pajamas, and the sight of you topless was enough to make Josh’s breath audibly catch in his throat, his eyes wide and ravenous, taking in every last inch of skin that had been revealed to him.

“Fuck,” Josh breathed out, his cheeks flushed with arousal, “You are so fucking beautiful…” his words making your head spin as he found the hem of his own t-shirt, tugging it over his head and tossing it to the floor alongside yours. You had seen Josh without a shirt on before, but never anything like this, and being so close was damn near overwhelming. Immediately, you were running your hands up his chest, savoring the feeling of his toned, firm skin underneath your own.

“Josh, you’re fucking beautiful,” you sighed, and the look in his eyes was unlike anything you had ever seen— astonished, adoring, voracious. His own hands began to slide up your body, mirroring the way you were exploring his, before moving to cup your breasts. Dizzily, you were left reeling at the size of his hands, his long fingers, the way he touched… giving your tits a gentle squeeze at first, your resulting moan encouraging him to squeeze harder, pressing your cleavage together as a low groan escaped his throat. You bit your lip, looking back at him and watching how his eyes devoured you. “Do you like them…?”

Josh’s gaze immediately flashed to meet yours, and the eye contact felt like a shock going straight down your spine. A sound resembling a growl escaped from the back of his throat, and your mouth fell open involuntarily as he said, “God, I fucking love them…” continuing to grope and squeeze, his cheeks red, his chest heaving. Your hand continued to slide up his chest, your fingertips finally reaching his necklace, and you just couldn’t resist— tugging it towards you, pulling Josh towards you and kissing him as hard as you’d ever dreamed of doing, drunker now on the feeling of him kissing you back than on anything you’d had at the bar. His hands slid around to the small of your back to pull you into him, your tits pressing up against his bare chest for the first time. The contact made you practically light-headed, moaning into his mouth as the kiss grew sloppier, before Josh’s lips began to trail down to your jaw, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. Your hands slid up to grab at his hair again as he continued his journey downwards, beginning to kiss and lick at your neck— and you were left gasping and writhing underneath him.

“Oh my God, Josh…” you panted, feeling the way his tongue was now beginning to flick and tease at your pulse point, your fingers tightening in his curls. “Fuck…” Your words elicited a moan from Josh against your neck, and you found yourself bucking your hips against him harder at the sound. He continued kissing lower, down your neck to your collarbones, seeming determined to explore every inch of your skin with his mouth, and his obvious desire was making the heat between your thighs burn ever greater. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he reached the top of your breasts, letting his mouth and tongue kiss and caress sloppily downwards, looking up at you through his lashes all the while.

He pulled back only for a moment, licking his lips as he gazed up at you, breathing out a low, heavy, “You have no fucking idea how many times I’ve imagined this…” his words sending shock waves straight to your core that were only amplified when, without warning, Josh leaned in to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss right to your nipple, sucking it right into his mouth. The pleasure was so sudden and so overwhelming that your own mouth fell open wide as you arched into him, crying out and gripping him even tighter. Josh let his tongue trace in circles around the hardened bud, before flickering it over you at a speed that had you gasping and whimpering, making your mind reel with possibilities of what else his tongue could be capable of. Your moans were growing louder and more desperate as he moved to pay the same attention to your other nipple, one of his hands sliding up your body so his fingertips could continue playing with the first.

It was already so much. He was so skilled with both his mouth and his fingers, and your anticipation of what was to come was matched by an insatiable hunger burning deep within your core. “Oh, fuck… Josh… that feels so good,” you moaned breathlessly, your voice already shaky, overwhelmed by the way he was working both nipples at once while continuing to grow harder underneath you. The look in his eyes was dark, mischievous. He was clearly being encouraged by your praise, and he was chuckling against you, both the sound and the vibrations enough to make your body shiver against him. He continued worshiping your tits like this for minute after minute, his sighs and moans against you making your head spin and your arousal pool between your thighs. After a while, the feeling of his hard cock rubbing up against you through your pajama pants was becoming impossible to ignore, and the layers of clothing between your bodies felt far too much. Your next words escaped you in more of a whimper than you had intended, thanks to Josh’s relentless tongue against your left nipple and his fingertips rolling and tweaking the right. “Please, Josh… baby… I’m so wet, I need more…”

The words made Josh’s eyes flutter shut for a second, groaning with need as he pulled back from your nipple with an obscene pop. “Fuck, mama… I’ll give you more… lover… let’s get these off you, yeah?” he asked, his hands reaching the hem of your pajama pants as you nodded voraciously, the new pet name he’d just used sending chills up and down your spine.

Swiftly and almost effortlessly, Josh was pulling you off of his lap to press you up against the back of the couch, kissing you deeply all over again as he repositioned you, before pulling back to look you in the eyes as he moved to untie the pajama pants you had borrowed from him. You lifted your hips to aid him as he hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of both the pants and your panties, his gaze meeting yours as if to check in for one final time that this was what you wanted, and you were nodding before either of you even had the chance to speak. “Please…” you breathed out, and that was all the confirmation he needed, tugging them all the way down your legs and lifting your ankles to pull them off of you. Your head was reeling as you watched him kneel before you through heavy-lidded, lust-clouded eyes. Slowly, as if uncovering something sacred, Josh’s hands landed on your knees, gently pulling them apart, revealing you to him— all of you, for the first time.

His lips parted in astonishment. “Oh my fucking God, mama…” He was devouring your pussy with his eyes, staring at you as though witnessing the divine. “You’re so fucking wet… fuck, you’re a goddess… Aphrodite incarnate.”

You were left breathless at his words, and if that wasn’t enough, in a frenzy, Josh’s mouth attached itself to your inner thigh, kissing eagerly, lapping against your sensitive skin, and beginning to climb higher by the moment. Utterly overwhelmed by the feeling, by his desire, you found yourself growing lightheaded, panting out, “You wanna taste it, Josh?”

Between hungry kisses to the inside of your thighs, he looked up at you with a wild ferocity in his eyes you’d never seen before, and his voice was husky as he breathed out a low, hot, “Not want. Need.”

He had left you speechless, the only sound escaping your lips a desperate whimper of arousal that made Josh groan against your skin as he continued his ascent. Moving higher with every kiss, every lick, every graze of his teeth— you were trembling as Josh grew closer and closer to your burning heat. It had been a long time since any man had made you ache like this, and you couldn’t believe just how badly you needed him, how little you cared about anything beyond the promise of his tongue.

Josh was nearing the apex of your thighs now, only inches away from where you needed him most. The feeling of his lips and his facial hair, watching the way his nose pressed into the soft skin of your upper thigh… keeping your eyes on him felt addictive. He was a work of art, devoting his mouth and body to your pleasure, and you couldn’t look away. That was, until Josh fulfilled his promise— hands gripping your thighs and eyes right on yours as he pushed his head forward, immediately pressing a slow, wet kiss directly to your pussy.

The cry that left your lips was louder and more desperate than any of the moans Josh had already drawn out of you, and your thighs immediately tightened around his head, your hands flying back into his hair as you threw your head back. Josh had flattened his tongue, licking a stripe along the entire length of your slit, before letting his tongue explore your folds, his lips kissing and sucking all the while. You were practically incoherent already, astonished at how he could possibly be so good at this. Expletives were falling from your lips completely outside of your control, your desperate moans of “Oh, God… fuck…!” only serving to encourage Josh further, pressing his face in even deeper and sucking at your clit, his mustache tickling at your most sensitive spots while his hands kept a white-knuckled grip on your thighs.

You were practically seeing stars, tugging at Josh’s hair in unbridled ecstasy as he started flicking his tongue against your clit, at a speed you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. The feeling made you let out a sound so needy and pornographic, you hardly recognized yourself. Pleas began to tumble from your lungs as your thighs started to shake, the pleasure building quicker than you ever could have imagined. “Please, please… oh, God, Josh, don’t stop…”

His fingers dug into your thighs as if to assure you that he was not going to stop, his tongue continuing to flick and lash at your clit from every angle, lapping at your wetness, humming and groaning into your heat. Devouring you as if it was his last meal, Josh looked up at you with his brown eyes wide, sparkling, practically innocent; and the sight had you choking on your own breath, his name escaping your lips in a desperate whine— and the sound of that, perhaps combined with the taste of you, left Josh’s eyes rolling up into his head, eyelashes fluttering wildly, as he worked your cunt with his tongue. The sight, combined with his relentless worship of your pussy, the lapping of his tongue against your clit, sent you right over the edge— all at once, you were moaning louder than ever as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your thighs clenched and tightened around Josh’s head as he groaned into your pussy, licking up your release as you gushed onto his tongue. The orgasm was all-consuming, wracking every inch of your body with shudders, and Josh made sure to work you through every second of it, keeping his pace until you began to come down. Only then did he slow his tongue, beginning to press slow, passionate, gentle kisses to your pussy as the last few spasms of pleasure coursed through you. He only pulled back when your grip in his hair loosened, turning to gentle strokes of your fingertips through his curls.

With one final, soft kiss to your heat, Josh came up from between your legs, licking his lips and looking at you almost bashfully, his face flushed and slick with your release. The sweetness in his gaze combined with the depravity of the moment sent yet another shiver down your spine. Chest heaving and eyes glazed over, you let out an incredulous giggle, savoring the softness of his hair under your fingertips, and the way he was looking at you. “Jesus, Josh… you didn’t tell me you were so good at that,” you teased, still somewhat in shock at the fact that all of this was really happening.

“You never asked,” he teased back, sticking his tongue between his teeth, and the sight had butterflies erupting in your stomach all over again. You were struck by an overwhelming need to kiss him, and you again let your hands find his necklace, beginning to tug him back up towards you, and you watched Josh’s eyes widen and lips part as he raised himself to close the distance between the two of you once more. This time, when your lips met and Josh licked into your mouth, you could taste yourself on Josh’s lips and tongue, and that little fact combined with his soft moan into the kiss left your body growing hot all over again.

You kissed sloppily for another minute or two, letting your hands begin to slide up and down Josh’s chest, and the sounds your touches were eliciting from the man positioned between your legs were making your mind grow foggy. In the midst of the kiss, Josh’s hips pressed up against your core, his clothed erection rubbing up against your bare cunt, and the feeling made the both of you gasp. Josh pulled back a little to capture his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. When he opened them again, you already knew exactly what you wanted. “Josh…?” you asked softly, seductively, and his gaze on you alone had you practically seeing stars. “You made me feel so good… please… let me return the favor…”

As the words left your lips, you were sliding out of your position on the couch, keeping your gaze directly on Josh. “Stand up for me? Please?” you asked, your eyes wide, your teeth grazing your own lower lip. He was mesmerized, looking at you with so much visible desire that you could hardly think straight, but stood up for you, his body practically glowing in the soft, golden light. Through your haze, you were able to sink down onto the floor, finally ending up exactly where you wanted to be. Kneeling in front of him. At eye level with the bulge straining through Josh’s pajama pants. Looking up at him with those same doe eyes, you slid a hand up the inside of his thigh, and Josh let out a soft, melodic groan, his own hand falling to stroke your cheek and run his fingers through your hair. His tender touches only served to encourage you more as your hand stroked further and further upwards, before finally reaching its destination— wrapping around the visible bulge in his pajama pants and giving it a squeeze, arousal flooding your veins at both the feeling of his hard cock in your hand and the moan that escaped Josh at your touch. It had been so long since you’d done this, since you’d been with anyone who had a cock, but… Josh knew that. He’d known that for almost as long as you’d known him at all. And somehow, the fact that it was him you were here with, exploring, rediscovering— truly made any nerves or hesitation you might’ve had disappear without a thought. “Fuck, you’re hard, baby…” you breathed out, looking up at Josh through your lashes, and the use of the affectionate pet name made his grip tighten in your hair.

“It’s all for you,” Josh replied, his voice husky, his breaths coming hard and fast. The sight of his toned chest rising and falling so rapidly in combination with his words was making your head spin as your hands slid higher, hooking around his waistband. He groaned a little, his hips bucking involuntarily at the loss of contact, but his next words were low, seductive. “You wanna see what you do to me, mama?”

A soft moan slipped from you at his question, and you were nodding before you found the words. “Yeah, Josh… I wanna see it…” His teeth sunk into his bottom lip once more as he watched you through lust-blown, darkened eyes, cocking his head, which made his curls fall across his forehead in a way that made you squeeze your thighs together involuntarily. Finally, you couldn’t resist any longer, tugging down Josh’s pajama pants while he kept his gaze on you, hungry and intense. And when you laid eyes on his cock for the first time, the wave of desire that crashed over you was enough to leave you utterly and completely dazed.

“Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen,” you whispered, almost reverent, and Josh let out a giggle so breathless and aroused that you felt yourself grow practically lightheaded, his cheeks somehow flushing even redder at the compliment. The statement was the inarguable truth; you had slept with comparatively few men as opposed to women, and not one of them had a cock that left your mouth watering the way Josh’s already had— upon sight alone. He was deliciously thick, the head of his cock an identical rosy pink to his plush lips and slick with precum, making his own desire more than evident. You were left awestruck, staring at all of him for a moment, wondering how it was possible that tonight’s events had truly led to the situation you were currently in.

He was gazing at you through heavy-lidded eyes as you lifted your hand, reaching out and letting your fingertip trace all the way up the one pretty vein that ran up the underside of Josh’s cock. At your feather-light touch alone, Josh shuddered, his fingers curling in your hair and a sigh escaping his lips. “God, lover…” the words left him in a husky whisper, so low and breathy, and the sound had you squeezing your thighs together all over again. Blinking up at him innocently, you spit into your hand, shivering when Josh let out a little growl at the sight. Your heart racing, you wrapped all your fingers around the base of Josh’s thick cock, savoring the feeling of his warm skin, and the moan that slipped from him was so pretty you couldn’t wait any longer, starting to pump your hand slowly up and down his length. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, watching the way his expression changed, how his plush lips fell open, his brows knitting together a little, as he moaned out, “Oh, fuck…” Stroking him up and down, you began to repeatedly swipe your thumb over the head of his cock, and the action was making Josh grow breathless underneath you. You heard him sigh your name, his chest heaving, his hips beginning to buck against the motions of your hand.

Feeling drunk on desire and the way Josh was somehow continuing to harden in your grasp, you were unable to make yourself wait any longer. “I love this cock, Josh…” you managed to breathe out, another wave of desire washing over you as he tugged harder at your roots, biting his lip. “…and fuck, I need a taste….” The arousal was written all over Josh’s face, his cheeks flushed red and his mouth still hanging open.

His voice was breathier, a little shakier, when he opened his mouth to reply. “Go ahead, lover… it’s all yours…” The sound of that particular nickname leaving his lips while urging you to go on, his tone almost needy, made your eyes nearly roll back into your head with desire. Keeping your gaze on Josh while you continued to stroke his cock, you leaned forward, your head spinning and breaths coming fast and heavy. And when your lips touched his sensitive skin, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the head of his cock, the sound that escaped Josh was enough to send a lightning bolt of arousal straight through your entire body. His eyes were wide, lust-blown, his pretty lips hanging open as his chest heaved, tangling his fingers in your hair as your kisses turned into kitten licks to his head, exploring his soft skin, lapping at his arousal.

Josh was falling apart so quickly, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Reeling from the taste of him, you started taking him deeper into your mouth, flames of desire licking up into your lower stomach with every moan from Josh, every buck of his hips. Expletives fell from his lips like a prayer as you continued, feeling every inch of him as you took him deeper into your mouth, further down your throat. Practically gagging on the sheer size of him, you finally reached the base of his cock, the tip of your nose pressing up against his pelvis as you blinked up at him with wide, almost innocent eyes. A strangled noise somewhere between a moan and a growl escaped him, his fingers holding a white-knuckled grip in your hair, while his whole face, neck, and even the top of his chest were flushing pink with arousal. “God… fuck… look at you… so fucking beautiful,” he was panting out, his words coming out in a desperate, rambling groan. You had never seen Josh so incoherent, and the sight was beyond dizzying. His praise was electrifying, and finally, you hollowed your cheeks around him, beginning to bob your head up and down his length. Josh let out a loud, uninhibited moan, throwing his head back and letting out another strangled “Fuck… oh, Jesus Christ…”

His moans, his body, his cock; it was all so unbearably addictive. The way his chest was rising and falling with such rapid, intense gasps. The way he was bucking his hips back against your eager mouth. The way his fat cock was somehow still getting harder, thicker inside your mouth. Swelling. Throbbing. The drool was practically dripping down your chin as you sucked him off, bobbing up and down, using your tongue to explore as you watched his contorted, blissed-out expression shift with spine-tingling curiosity. Josh’s hands were practically trembling in your hair as he continued to moan, praise, and curse— the words seeming to fall from his lips entirely involuntarily, as though erupting from his soul itself while you let his pleasure build.

You had almost entirely lost yourself in the taste of his cock, the way it was stretching your jaw, how it felt filling up your mouth and throat, that you were caught by surprise when Josh started pulling back with a shudder, his hard cock slipping from your lips with an obscene pop. Any confusion that you felt, however, was immediately dissipated when Josh breathed out, voice husky, “God, mama… I’m gonna fuckin’ cum if you don’t stop… and, fuck…” he was helping you stand to meet him at eye level again, his eyes dark and desperate as he stroked a hand through your hair, down past your cheek, dragging his fingertips down your neck. “I need to fuck you, lover…”

Hearing him say those words made your mouth fall open a little, beginning to nod before you could even speak. “Oh, God… please, Josh… fuck me. I need it. Please, just fuck me…” Upon hearing that, Josh was growling again, the sound still making your entire body tremble, as he began walking you backwards towards his sofa, his hands on your body and his eyes on yours, intense and hungry. Before long, you were trying to keep your breathing steady as Josh laid you down on the couch, his eyes all over you, his necklace dangling over you enticingly. Your heart pounding, you sat up against the arm of the sofa, biting your lip at Josh as you slowly, teasingly opened your legs wide for him. His gaze was ravenous as you blinked up at him, breathing out a soft, tantalizing, “Come and get it…”

That was all Josh needed. Immediately, he was climbing on top of you, positioning his flushed, firm body between your legs and letting one hand rest on either side of you on the arm of the couch. His face hovered above yours, his cheeks red and his eyes dark with arousal, as one hand landed on your shoulder, pinning you to the arm of the couch underneath him—- the action immediately sucking all of the air from your lungs. His free hand now began to slide down your body as he cocked his head, studying your expression with hungry brown eyes as he groped at your tits, then let his hand slide down your stomach, before letting his fingers part your folds. You moaned, bucking your hips into his touch, and a groan escaped Josh at that as he stared at you incredulously. “Fuck, mama… you’re so fucking wet…”

“God, Josh, it’s what you fucking do to me,” you panted, little whimpers and sighs escaping your lips as he gathered your wetness on his fingertips, before trailing up to play with your clit. After a moment of this, he trailed his fingers down, letting his index finger tease and press at your entrance, and you were moaning, nodding your head, the eye contact that Josh was maintaining heightening every feeling, every sensation. Upon your nod, he was pushing one long finger up into your cunt, and you were crying out all over again, your walls immediately clenching around him— and that drove both of you into near madness, as you immediately leaned up to kiss Josh as hard as you possibly could, moaning into his mouth, bucking your hips against his hand as he began to fuck you with his finger, pumping it in and out, getting your cunt ready for his cock.

You were grabbing at his body, at his necklace, his curls, pulling back to stammer pleas desperately against his lips. “More… God, Josh, I need more…” the words left your mouth in a rambling, desperate beg, and the low groan of desire that escaped him in response made your eyes roll back a little even before he slid a second finger into your pussy, fucking them in and out of your wetness as you writhed beneath him.

“What do you need?” His voice was husky, teasing, his eyes heavy-lidded and never leaving yours, his nose hovering millimeters above your own. Your heart felt like it could give out within your chest at any moment as Josh’s fingers worked you, stretched you. “I wanna hear you say it, lover…”

“Fuck, Josh… oh, God, I need your cock. Please…” you begged, reaching out and tugging at his curls, savoring the way he leaned into your touch. “…I’ve imagined it so many times, baby… please just fuck me…”

Those words, the admission that you’d pictured this before on numerous occasions, must’ve been exactly what Josh was looking for, as a moan even lower, darker, huskier left his lips. “Fuck, mama… sound so fucking pretty when you beg….” You shuddered at this, looking up at him with pleading eyes, as Josh nodded slowly, and pulled his fingers from your dripping pussy, the loss of contact making you shiver. You watched, dazed, desperate, as he wrapped those same fingers around his hard, thick cock; giving it a few solid pumps before lining it up at your entrance. The look in his eyes was unlike anything you’d ever seen before— powerful, commanding, full of need, while still unbearably affectionate. Practically loving. You could hardly think, drunk on your desire, gaze fixed on the beautiful man hovering above you. Teasingly, teeth sinking into his lower lip, Josh began to rub the head of his cock up and down your soaked slit, and the friction left you whining and bucking your hips desperately against him, his own mouth falling open at the contact. “Gonna fuck you so good, lover… so hard, so deep… gonna have you fucking screaming for me, mama…”

He didn’t even give you the time you needed to process his filthy words— because it was right as Josh spoke that he was pushing his hips forward, his hard, fat cock parting your folds, sliding into your tight, soaked cunt, inch after inch filling you up and stretching you out. Your eyes flew open wide, your mouth falling completely open alongside them as a moan louder than any you’d let out all night escaped your lungs. You weren’t alone, Josh’s own mouth hanging open with pleasure as his eyes rolled back a little, lashes fluttering wildly as he pushed in, up to the hilt. Your chest was heaving, hands desperately reaching to grab at Josh’s body, his strong arms, as little gasps and whimpers left your lips. “Oh, Josh… fuck… you’re so thick…”

He was groaning a little, fighting to keep his eyes open against the overwhelming pleasure of your cunt wrapped around his cock. “So fucking tight…” he managed, his voice restrained, rough, almost shaky. “…gonna move, lover…. you ready? You wanna get fucked?” It was all so overwhelming already, so dizzying, and you were nodding with unbridled desperation, clinging to his biceps as you fought to catch your breath. Yet, as Josh fulfilled his promise, it was clear you wouldn’t be finding your breath anytime soon.

Slowly, he was pulling back nearly all the way… before immediately thrusting his hips forward with such intensity, such purpose, that you cried out instantly, your hand flying to grip Josh’s necklace, which had been dangling just above your breasts ever since he climbed on top of you. He started slow, but the measured pace didn’t last long as he began to pick up speed, starting to thrust harder, faster, deeper. You were so quickly being rendered incoherent as his thick cock pushed in and out, hammering into your cunt and stretching you deliciously with every hard thrust. Moans of his name began to fall from your lips as he fucked you, and you found yourself wrapping your legs around his torso, hanging your head back with overwhelming pleasure as Josh fucked up into you again and again.

“You feel that, lover….? Fuck… you’re squeezing me… so fucking tight…” Josh was groaning, his gaze heavy, his eyelids fluttering, his eyes threatening to roll back again and again. He was twitching inside of you, throbbing, even, and the feeling was beyond intoxicating as you felt your thighs beginning to tremble around him.

“Oh, God… don’t stop, Josh, don’t stop… feels so good…” you were moaning, rolling your hips in response to his relentless thrusts, feeling your pleasure beginning to build rapidly for the second time that night. He growled, beginning to fuck you even harder, adjusting so he was slamming his hips into you from a new angle— and when the head of his cock began to shove up against your g-spot with every thrust, the cry that left your throat was so needy, so desperate, so whiny that it elicited a moan of matching intensity from Josh.

“I can feel you… fuckin’ clenching,” he was groaning, not once slowing the pace of his thrusts, his hand still pinning you to the arm of the couch below him as he fucked you. “You gonna cum again for me, sugar? Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock this time?”

You were whimpering, nodding, tears beginning to well in your eyes as Josh pounded into you, your tits bouncing with every hard thrust of his cock into your pussy. He never once hesitated, only continuing to hammer into you, his gaze intensifying, his sounds growing hungrier, more uninhibited. “Not gonna stop, sugar… gonna fuck you ‘til you’re cumming all over this hard cock… make this tight, pretty pussy cum for me…..”

His words were growing filthier by the moment, and it was only making your head spin even faster, your thighs tremble even harder, your grip on his necklace tighten as the heat began to build deep within your core. Tears began to spill from your eyes; the pleasure starting to become almost overwhelming, moments away from the edge— and Josh must’ve been able to tell, because all of a sudden, his fingers were right back on your clit, circling it mercilessly as his cock slammed into you again and again… and that was all it took.

With a desperate, pornographic cry of his name, you were clenching down onto Josh’s cock as your orgasm crashed over you. Wave after wave of pleasure wracked your entire body as you clung desperately to Josh, moaning again and again and trembling, shaking almost violently against him, seeing stars and practically sobbing as you melted into euphoria.

Josh was groaning, fucking you as hard as he could through your orgasm, his eyes beginning to roll back— and he managed to pull himself from your cunt just in time, your name leaving his lips in a desperate moan alongside a string of obscenities as he exploded all over your stomach, stroking his cock and bucking his hips into his hand. His expression was damn near angelic, his brows knitted together, his mouth wide open with ecstasy, before he caught his lower lip between his teeth, thrusting up into his hand as he finished riding out his high.

Slowly, slowly, gasping for air, you found yourself beginning to return to Earth, your grip loosening on Josh’s arms but refusing to let go, still savoring the feeling of his soft, warm skin; his muscles flexing underneath your fingertips. The chorus of moans between the two of you had evolved into breathless sighs as Josh collapsed onto you; and when you finally managed to open your eyes, you found yourself giggling without even meaning to— your head still spinning, your heart still racing.

Josh was breathing hard, a bashful grin on his face as his own eyes fluttered open, gazing down at you with what could only be described as adoration. Reaching up to run a hand through his tousled curls, you giggled again, your heart swelling in your chest at the way he was looking at you, before he began to join you in your shy laughter. “Wow…” you managed, biting your lip a little, as he let out a giggle of his own, nodding in agreement. You felt heat rising in your own cheeks as you admitted shyly, “Josh, I… you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that with you.”

He smiled at you, the affection in his gaze making you practically breathless as he said, “Truthfully? I think I do… because I’m sure I’ve wanted it just as long,” letting his arms slip around you, and the feeling was a new kind of dizzying. You giggled again, before leaning up to press another kiss to his lips— this one soft, slow, lingering. The frenzied hurry that had motivated the majority of your actions had dissipated as you realized, with a rush of excitement, that you had all the time in the world.

When the kiss broke, you were laughing again, running your hands across his arms, up to his cheeks, savoring the way his eyes fluttered shut at your touches. “All the time we’ve wasted…” you sighed with a grin, thinking about the months you’d spent pining after him, certain that your thoughts and feelings weren’t reciprocated. He was smiling down at you, holding you close to his body.

“We’re here now,” Josh said with a grin, pressing another kiss to your cheek. “And I intend to make the most out of every moment…” as you felt yourself blushing all over again, your heart racing. This really was just the beginning.

It was a long time before the two of you managed to work up the motivation to move from your positions tangled together on the couch, but Josh’s promise of a warm shower and the invitation to share his bed was more than enough to convince you. As he helped you to your feet, his arm wrapping around your waist while your thighs trembled, you felt your heart nearly overflowing with affection. When you turned to look at him, however, a thought struck you that left you giggling all over again, leaving Josh looking at you with a curious grin, arching an eyebrow inquisitively. “What’s bringing on that cute giggle now…?”

You grinned at him, biting your lip and leaning in to press another kiss to his cheek. “Tonight may have been our best adventure yet.”

He laughed again, his happiness utterly infectious, as he leaned in, his lips only millimeters from yours. “And we’ve got plenty more to come, lover.” Closing the distance between the two of you, this kiss was gentle, passionate. A promise that he was yours. That you were his.

As you two headed towards his room, his arm around your waist, there was one thing that was certain. No matter what else was to come, you knew that Josh was right. You two had so many adventures in store.

And you couldn’t wait to rediscover it all.

TAGLIST: @sinsofstardust @jakesguitarsolo @losfacedevil @kenobicoffee @sparrowofthedawnsworld @gold-mines-melting @texas-bbq-pringles @mountain-in-springtime @alwaysonthemend @tripthelightfatality @runwayblues @shutupdevvie @heavens-hearken @godly-sinsx @sacredjake @ignite-my-fire @kiska-enthusiast @songbirds-sweet @viagvf @wetkleenex-gvf @jaketsparrow @rhythm-of-space @the-starcatcher @hsfallingsky @fuckyoutommie @earthlysorrows @ascendingtostardust @joshsindigostreak

If you want to be added to my taglist, you can do that right here! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it 🥰 All my love, Li xoxo

#josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka x reader #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #josh kiszka #greta van fleet #li speaks #writing tag

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punkette1026 · 1 year ago

Text

I Run to You

Summary:

After a fight with Pedro, you two go your separate ways for the holidays. However after receiving a phone call that Pedro got hurt, you rush to him in the hopes that you can salvage your relationship and nurse him back to health.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Reader (no use of Y/N)

Rating: T

Word Count: 9155

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Author's Notes: Thank you all for your support. This one was a little scary to write because I have never written a Pedro non character fic. Please be kind and let me know what you think!

****italics means flashbacks

This was not how you expected your Christmas Eve to go. You were supposed to be in the kitchen helping your mother bake her famous Christmas cookies. Instead, here you were on a plane rushing to see your boyfriend of three years, Pedro. You felt a surge of guilt in your chest as you realized that you should have never agreed to spend the holidays apart after having one of the biggest fights in your life.

You had spent the last few days at your parents’ house moping around debating whether or not to call him and apologize first. Then you got a call from Pedro’s sister Lux, letting you know that they had to take him to the hospital. When you heard those words, it felt like your whole world stopped. The fight that you had with him no longer mattered. All of that went out the window and you knew that you had to get to him as soon as you could. However, getting a flight out to Chile on a holiday weekend was going to be nearly impossible. Thankfully, after numerous calls and by a Christmas miracle, your dad got you on the first flight out to Santiago.

As you sat there looking out the plane window, you couldn’t help but think back to the fight that you and Pedro had. Now it seemed so senseless, but back then, it became intense quickly. Sure, you had small fights before, but nothing like this. You both said some things that you regret and neither one had yet to apologize or even check in on each other.

You remembered that it all started over a picture you saw on X. You had already gotten cozy under the covers while Pedro got ready for bed in the bathroom. After scrolling through tik Tok for a while, you switched over to X and that’s when you saw it. It was a picture of your boyfriend walking out of a restaurant. The caption read, “New Couple Alert! Pedro Pascal and former costar seen getting cozy at prominent LA restaurant Friday night. The pair was spotted having drinks and left in smiles as Pedro walked the actress to her car. Could this be the start of a new power couple?”

Normally these types of rumors didn’t bother you. You could care less, because you had seen for fair share of them, and you knew that every single one of them was a stretch. You also knew that was something that you were going to have to get used to if you were going to date a celebrity. However, to you, Pedro wasn’t a celebrity. He never acted like it and was very down to earth. If fact, that was what drew you to him when you first met.

You remembered like it was yesterday when he stepped out of his house and saw you outside of your own home struggling to change the tire on your car. For whatever reason, you just couldn’t seem to get the last nut off of the rim.

To be honest, Pedro had noticed you way before that, but he had been chickening out. He first took notice of you when you moved into the neighborhood over a week ago. He was hesitant even then to come over and introduce himself. He was instantly taken back by your beauty as soon as he laid eyes on you for the first time. You looked absolutely stunning in that black polka dot dress. Your smooth legs glistened in the hot summer sun. Much to his luck, it looked like you were moving into the single story alone. He did spot two other people helping you, but it looked like they were your parents. Little did he know, but that was the first time that you saw him too.

After that the only interaction that you two had was a quick wave here and there when one of you left. Neither one of you had mustered up the courage to go over and introduce yourselves to each other. Pedro almost chickened out that day as well, but after giving himself a pep talk, he decided that it was finally time to go over and say hi.

Quickly doing his best to look presentable and that meant in his favorite Lakers shirt and a pair of gray shorts, Pedro casually walked out of his house like he was going to go check his mail. Then when he was hidden by a couple of cars, he crossed the street and began walking up your side of the street making a B line straight to you. You didn’t even see him come up from behind.

“Hi there neighbor!” he called out to you. “I was just walking by and noticed you struggling there. Do you need any help?”

“Oh my, you scared me,” you chuckled. “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind. I have been struggling to get this damn nut off. I think it’s stuck, or I did something wrong.”

“I’m sure it’s fine. You just need a little more muscle. May I?” he asked holding out his hand.

You nodded appreciating the help and handed him the tire iron, “Of course, knock yourself out.”

Like nothing, as soon as Pedro tried to turn the tire iron, the nut came loose with ease. “See there, easy as pie!” He smiled up at you with his dimple on full display.

You almost melted right there and then. It took all that you had to not lose your shit. “Hey that’s not fair. I’ve be trying to get that off for the past fifteen minutes!”

“What can I say, you just needed little more muscle,” he teased again before helping you swap out the flat tire for the spare. “There you go, all done.”

“Thank you so much! You are such a life saver. I was so sure that I was going to have to call a tow company. I’m...” you introduced yourself.

He hesitated for a second with shaking your hand. He didn’t want to get you dirty, but when he saw your hands were equally covered in grime, he graciously shook it, “Hello, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m Pedro, I live across the street.”

You let out a cute giggle that melted his heart, “Yes, I know exactly who you are Mr. Pascal. I... may have seen a movie or two of yours. Also Mrs. Walker next door seems to be very smitten for you too. She came over with some cookies and told me all about the famous movie star that lives in the neighborhood.” Mrs. Walker was their 85-year-old widow that took care of the neighborhood.

Pedro’s face grew red with embarrassment, “umm...yeah, she may or may not have a crush on me. Listen umm...I was going to grab a coffee or something. You-you wouldn’t want to join me, would you? I-I mean if you are not busy or anything. If you are then no big deal maybe next time. I can-I can just go by myself.”

You thought the way he nervously rambled on was adorable. You had never met a celebrity before, and he was completely different from what you thought it would be like. From your very brief experience with him, Pedro was just a normal guy, older, but normal guy. You weren’t going to lie to yourself when you thought that he was pretty attractive too. That dimpled smile of his, the soft brown curls, and those broad shoulders of his, ugh all of him got your blood going. Not to mention that he towered over you. That was one of your turn ons. You could almost imagine yourself wrapped in his embrace.

“Um...yeah, I think I can do that. I was going to go get groceries, but I think that can wait till tomorrow. Besides, it’s not every day that Oberyn Martel asks you to get a cup of coffee. Did you know that Mrs. Walker has a few photos of you up on her wall in that ugly mustard robe?”

“Okay first off, that robe is freaking amazing, super comfortable. Next, I did not need to know that. Do you know how awkward it’s going to be now when she brings me over one of her famous apple pies? I’m not going to be able to look at her in the eyes now,” he groaned causing you to giggle again. “Well, I’m glad that you find that funny. You know if I was a smart guy, I would revoke my coffee offer to you.”

“Awe did the little celebrity get all embarrassed,” you said like you were talking to a baby. “Well, I’m sorry Pedro, I apologize. If I buy you a cup of coffee, will that make you feel better.”

Pedro playfully pouted his lips with a frown, “It might, but I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t buy you the first cup. So about I buy us coffee time, then next time, you can buy that round.”

Your heart about nearly skipped a beat at the thought of possibly getting to hang out with him at a later point in time. You felt like a giddy schoolgirl who’s crush finally gave you the time of day. But at the same time, you knew that you had to play it cool, “Next time huh? Who said anything about a next time Mr. Pascal.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know you are right and stop calling me Mr. Pascal. That’s my father,” he pouted again. “But umm…, do you think I can come in for a second and wash my hands. It beats having to go all the way home.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his dramatics. “Oh yes because it’s such a long walk. Well follow me then Mr. Pascal” you winked at him before leading him up the driveway. “And I do apologize for all the boxes everywhere. Nursing school has been taking up the majority of my time and it’s been a little hard finding the energy to unpack.”

You didn’t realize it, but as he followed you, Pedro couldn’t help but stare at your ass. He didn’t mean to stare like a dirty old man, but he couldn’t help it. It would end up being one of his favorite things about you.

As you both made your way inside your house, you weren’t lying. Boxes littered the kitchen and living room. Thankfully Pedro didn’t seem to mind though as he made his way through the maze behind you. Taking turns at the sink, both of you scrubbed the grime off of your hands the best that you could.

However just as Pedro went to dry his hands, his large frame accidentally knocked over an open box that was full of VHS and DVDs. “Shit, I’m so sorry,” he apologized as he quickly bent down and started to pick them up.

“It’s okay Pedro no worries. It was bound to happen sooner or later. I’m surprised that I haven’t done that myself already,” you really hoped that he didn’t feel bad. It was just an accident.

“You umm...you sure do have a lot of movies. You a bit of a movie buff?” He was amazed at the vast selection that you had. A lot of them were some of his favorites and some that he hadn’t seen in a while. Then a certain VHS tape caught his eye, “No way, you have this on VHS still? You don’t look old enough to know what a VHS is.”

“Ha ha very funny Pedro. I may be 24, but I sure do know what a VHS tape is. That’s all my grandmother watched when I was little. Gosh, I didn’t think that I still had that one. I used to watch that at least twice a week in high school. See I umm... I was bullied a lot in school and my parents were too busy at the time dealing with their own shit. After school in order to just get away from everything, I would put this movie on or any movie really and get lost for hours,” you couldn’t help but get teary eyed at the thought of how lonely those times were. Then you suddenly got embarrassed already crying in front of him, “I’m sorry Pedro, I didn’t mean to unload on you like that.”

“Hey it’s okay really, I don’t mind. I want to know more about you,” he then sympathetically reached out and took your hand into his. “Movies also hold a special place in my heart. Seeing the different actors portray different characters, emotions, and storylines, all that appealed to me and is part of what made me want to become an actor.” He then got an idea and really hoped that she didn’t mind if they switched things up, “So umm..., would you be opposed if we instead of going to get coffee, we put this baby on, if you have a VCR that is, and I can help you unpack. Seems like you could use the help more.”

“You know what that sounds like a wonderful idea. I still have my grandmother’s VCR and it’s still like brand new. And if you don’t mind, what if I order some pizza for some energy? I have a six pack of beer in the fridge as well if you drink. Otherwise, I have some water and juice.”

“Beer is perfectly fine by me and as for the pizza, since I’m the one who offered coffee and came up with the new plan, please let me buy it. It’s the least I can do. Think of it as a welcome to the neighborhood pizza.”

You nodded your head as you were too embarrassed to speak. You had never met someone so generous as Pedro. You could see the both of you becoming really good friends. It was like you instantly connected and were already comfortable with each other. “Alright fine, but remember Pedro, I get the next time. Now come on, everything is already set up in the living room.”

Once the movie was playing and the pizza was ordered. Both you and Pedro got to work unpacking the living room. You had made a lot of progress getting through a couple of boxes while making small talk. However as soon as the pizza came and you sat on the couch to eat, that’s where the packing stopped. Between the movie and swapping stories with Pedro, all of it consumed all your attention.

Before you knew it, it was well past midnight. After helping you clean up and taking some boxes out to the dumpster for you, Pedro bid you a good night. However, before he left, he promised to come over and help you finish the rest, so he gave you his number and told you to text him when it was convenient for you. Much to his surprise, you texted him the next day asking him if he wanted to come over for some breakfast. Before you even had time to crack an egg, he was at your doorstep with two cups of coffee in his hand.

From that point on, you and Pedro had become inseparable. You spent every moment that you could together. Whether it be at your house or his, you two became super close. Both of you knew you had feelings for each other but neither one of you was brave enough to admit it out loud. Then after a month apart since Pedro had to go out of town for work, he showed up at your door with a bouquet of flowers. There on your door step, he admitted his true feelings for you. How he felt so strongly for you and missed you every day that he was gone. That he couldn’t go another day without you being his. Before he could even finish expressing himself to you, you jumped into his arms and placed a deep kiss to his lips. You had never loved someone as much as you loved Pedro. It felt like you met your soulmate, and you weren’t going to let him go.

The last three years had gone by in a blink of an eye for you as it did move faster than any other relationship that you had been in, especially in the early stages. By the time your one month anniversary came, you two were already sleeping together and saying I love you to each other. Heck by the time your six month anniversary came, you were practically living with him. From the outside, your friends and family thought you two were crazy for how fast you were moving, but you two didn’t care. You were so in love that it just felt right to you.

That got you thinking though, maybe that’s why this fight had turned out to be so bad. In the entire time of your relationship, you hardly argued. If you did, then within a few minutes after it ended, you both would come running back to each other apologizing profusely. You couldn’t stand being mad at each other, so now what’s changed? Were you getting fed up with each other? At one point you thought that you had the entire world, but now, you felt so unsure. It felt like everything was now up in the air. You hoped that this surprise trip to your injured boyfriend would be enough to salvage your relationship.

As the plane landed and the passengers began to deplane, you grabbed the only bag that you brought with you and followed the hoard of people. You then as quickly as you could headed straight for the exit where your ride was waiting for you. Thankfully it didn’t take long to find her. It was Pedro’s sister Lux, the one that called you about his accident.

“Over here!” she called out to you. As soon as you got close enough to her, she ran straight into your arms, “Oh, it’s so good to see you! I’ve missed you! Thank you for coming so quickly. My brother is going to be so happy to see you. He had been a grump since he got here.”

“I really hope so Lux and it’s so good to see you too. How is he?”

“He’s hurting but thankfully it’s just his shoulder and nothing too serious. They released him from the hospital a few hours ago. He is at my father’s house sleeping,” she updated you as you walked to her car.

“So, what exactly happened? All you said was that he fell.”

Lux just shook her head in disbelief, “I still can’t believe it myself. We were talking in the kitchen and then the next thing we knew, we heard a big boom and Pedro was at the bottom of the stairs. He couldn’t tell us what happened, and he couldn’t move his arm.”

“And the doctor’s what did they say?” You really hoped that his injury wasn’t going to be too bad.

Being a nurse, you had seen your fair share of shoulder injuries and had seen the range that they could vary. What you were really concerned with those was Pedro’s mental health. You knew that he would be beating himself up as this injury may affect his professional work. He had a busy schedule in the upcoming year with award shows and production on varies projects starting. You were so happy to see him finally get the recognition that he deserved. You just wished that you could be there to celebrate with him.

“Well, they think he may need to have surgery,” she sighed. “He may want a second opinion though. He damn near almost choked the doctor when he heard them say that. I know seeing you is really going to brighten his day. I was really shocked when he showed up alone. I thought you were going to split the holidays again.”

For the first two years of your relationship, you and Pedro compromised and decided to spend Christmas with one family and then New Years, with the other. This year, it was Pedro’s family to host Christmas. “Umm...yeah well, I don’t know if Pedro told you or not, but we decided that it would be best if we took some time apart away from each other. We umm...we had a pretty bad fight.”

You trusted Lux in telling her what was going on. Over the years, you two had gotten super closer to each other. You had been an only child, so she was closest thing to a sister that you had. In fact, you had grown close to all his family.

“I didn’t know you two had a fight. All he said was that this year, something came up and you weren’t able to come this year. That’s so strange though. You two never fight. In fact, I have never seen either of you even raise your voice at each other. What was the fight about?”

Tears began to fill your eyes as you recalled that night....

Pedro finally finished up in the bathroom and came to join you in bed. However, as he got under the covers and tried to pull you over to him, he was surprised to have you pull away from him. “Hey what was that for? What’s going on mi vida.”

You said nothing. You just rolled over to your side facing away with tears starting to fill your eyes. “Mi vida, what’s going on? You know that you can tell me anything.”

“You...you lied to me,” you said quietly that he could barely hear you.

“I... I’m sorry what?”

“I said that you lied to me Pedro!” you shouted and got out of bed. “You...are a liar Pedro Pascal and that is something that I thought I would never say.”

Pedro’s eyes grew wide. He had never seen an outburst like this from you before, “Whoa, what the actual fuck! What the hell are you talking about?”

He got out of bed and tried to get to you, but you didn’t let him “No, you just stay back,” you yelled. “I know about Friday night Pedro. Were you stupid enough to think that I wouldn’t find out? The paparazzi follow you everywhere for crying out loud. I saw the pictures of you!”

Pedro just huffed and shook his head, “Really, this is what it’s about. So, what, I went out Friday to have some drinks with old friends. What’s the big deal?”

“What’s the big deal? The deal is Pedro Pascal, that you lied to me about it! When I was leaving for work, you told me that you had no plans that night. Now I find that you did go out and that you were hugging up on some chick!”

“You...you’ve got to be kidding me,” he groaned. “Please don’t tell me what I think you are inferring. Please tell me you don’t think that I’m cheating on you.”

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to think Pedro? Did you plan this? Did you plan on hiding this from me?” tears stung your eyes as you threw the phone at him.

Pedro managed to dodge the phone as it hit the wall behind him, “Jesus what the hell! I didn’t lie to you okay. I had every intension of staying home, but then one of my old costars called saying that they were having a get together. I figured that since you were working yet again, I would go. I also am not cheating on you. I fucking love you okay. Yes, I know there were rumors about me and her back in the day, but nothing ever happened. We were surrounded by our friends the entire time. We were never alone together!”

“Oh, so now this is my fault, because I had to work. Well, I’m sorry that the hospital is short staffed Pedro. Besides, weren’t you the one encouraging me to work overtime?”

“Yes, and that was when I was working!” Pedro shouted at you. “I told you that you should work some more when I am not home, so you wouldn’t have to think about us being apart like you usually do. I don’t get why after I have been gone for months filming, you all of a sudden want to work more hours now. I’ve hardly seen you in the past two weeks.”

You couldn’t believe how selfish Pedro was acting right now. “Are you serious Pedro? So, you mean to tell me that when you leave to go work in another country, I have no choice but to be here all alone in this big empty house, but when you come home, I am not allowed to work. I have to be here with you, so you don’t feel the same way that I do when you leave. So, you do not get bored. I know things were easier when I was in nursing school because I was able to be home and work on homework and stuff, but now that I’m that working, I can’t just drop it all as soon as you walk in the door. I work in an environment where people’s lives are at stake.”

“I know that and I’m not asking you to give it all up. I know how hard you work and how much you love your job. All I’m asking is just to have some uninterrupted time with you. No work, no commitment, nothing. Next year is going to be super busy and I want us to spend as much time as we can with each other,” he sighed.

“And if I do manage to stop working overtime Pedro, what are we going to do then? Stay home?” you asked. “Stay cramped up in this house, door dashing date meals. Ever since this whole “Internet Daddy” thing started, we don’t even go out anymore. You don’t let us go out together anymore.”

That was true. In the beginning of your relationship, you were able to sneak in dinner dates, coffee trips, and the occasional vacation without being noticed by the public. But now that Pedro’s popularity blew up, cameras constantly caught his every move. It was a miracle with social media being what it was, that no one had a clue that he was dating. He made sure that you always took the proper precautions if you needed to go out.

“Yes, you are right, and I still stand by that decision. There is no way in hell am I putting you in the public eye. No, I will not do that to you. They will tear you apart. I have a lot on my plate already and I do not need to be constantly worrying about you. No, things are much simpler and safer if people don’t know about you,” he tried to convince you.

“But at what cost Pedro? You can’t keep us locked up in this house forever. It’s not healthy. Someone at some point is going to find out and then what? We deny that we know each other? Deny that we love each other? No, I refuse to do that. There are tons of actresses and actors that keep their wives and families out of the public eye yet can maintain a normal life. They aren’t afraid to go out and get seen. Why can’t we be like them? If you are worried that I can’t handle it, then I swear to you that I can. I can handle it Pedro,” you pleaded your case. You didn’t understand where this sudden fear of his was coming from. It wasn’t like him at all.

“Oh, like you handled seeing that picture?” he snapped back. “You really handle that like a champ.

You growled at the nerve of him trying to turn this around on you, “No, no Pedro, you do not get to do that. You do not get to use that on me. I don’t care that you went out. You can do as you please. What I am mad about is that I had to find out on the internet what my boyfriend has been up to. I would have never know that you went out if the pictures didn’t get released Pedro. I’m hurt that you didn’t even bring it up the next morning. I even asked how your night went and you said that it was fine. You always, even on set, tell me when you are going out. So why not this time? Was it because she was there? You two looked pretty cozy as you walked out of the restaurant with your arm around her waist!” you gave him a look that could kill.

“It was nothing! And I did not go there because she was going to be there. The reason why didn’t tell you was because I didn’t think that it was a big deal. I got the text at the last minute. I stayed for maybe an hour, two hours tops and that’s it. I came right back home and spent the rest of the night upstairs reading scripts and emails. The only reason why I walked her out and to her car, was because she was telling us about a stalker that she had. I just wanted to make sure that she got to her car safely. You know that I would have done that with anyone,” he just couldn’t understand how you couldn’t see that. Nothing else happened after that and it would never. Pedro loved you with all his heart and would never disrespect you or your relationship like that.

“The...the stalker thing, are...are you afraid that might happen to us? With me?” you asked shuddering at the thought of some stranger being completely obsessed with you.

Pedro’s face fell as the same thought came into his mind, “Yes in a way. People are crazy Y/N. you can never know what can happen. I’d rather keep you here safe, away from all of the craziness. Now can we please just forget about all this and go to bed. I don’t like fighting with you.” he tried to take a step closer to you and for a second, you let him.

However as soon as he got close enough to try to reach out for your hand and pulled you to him, you placed your hand on his chest to prevent you from being pulled closer, “I...I... I’m sorry Pedro, but I can’t. I just...I can’t get over how you are acting like this isn’t a big deal. I feel betrayed right now Pedro. I...I don’t think I can sweep this under the rug like that. I’m sorry.” You then walked over to the bed and grabbed your pillow and the quilt that was at the foot of the bed.

“Where...where do you think you are going?”

“I’m going to go sleep in the spare room Pedro. I...I just need time to think and calm down,” the pain and hurt that you were feeling was clear all over your face. You felt completely drained.

Pedro was right behind you hot on your heels as you made your way to the guest room, “So this is how we are going to start off the holidays. Everything up in the air now because of one picture that made you feel insecure....” As soon as that word left his lips, both of his hands flew to his mouth shutting himself up. He knew that he messed up. “Mi-mi vida, I’m sorry I didn’t mean...”

You didn’t care if you hit him with it, but you slammed the door right in his face. You couldn’t believe that he said that. You always thought of yourself as a strong woman, but for the first time, you felt so small, so little. Were you really being insecure? Were you really blowing this whole thing out of proportion, because of your sudden lack of self-esteem? You didn’t know, but you didn’t like what you feeling deep down inside you.

You both went to bed feeling angry and disappointed with how things played out. You both tossed and turned, plagued with nightmares and replaying the fight in your head. The next morning, you stayed locked away in the guest room. You were too scared and still annoyed with Pedro to face him. You only came out when you heard him leave. That gave you enough time to freshen up for the day, find your now cracked phone, and get something to eat. When you heard him come home, you rushed back to the guest bedroom and locked the door. You could hear him sigh on the other end of the door but couldn’t find it in your heart to open it.

“I stayed locked up in there for the rest of the day. When I finally did come out, we could hardly look at each other. I don’t know if it was anger, guilt or what, but we completely avoided each other. The next time we did speak, I told him a was going to my parents for Christmas and New Years and he said that was probably a good idea. We didn’t even see each other off the airport, we just left,” You sighed. “I... I don’t think we are going to make it Lux. Maybe we did rush into things like everyone said in the beginning. Maybe the honeymoon stage has finally come to an end, and we are as compatible as we thought.”

“No, no, do not say that. You two are meant for each other. I can see it in your eyes. Having one big fight doesn’t mean that it’s the end for you. Sometimes fights happen that you can’t avoid. Both of you had very valid points. Pedro should have been honest with you. I know for a fact that my big brother would never, ever, cheat on you. I just think he honestly didn’t see it as a big deal. I do agree that he should have mentioned something just in case you came home before he did or just to check in with you in case something happened, and you knew where he was. With that being said, he is an idiot for calling you insecure. I have half my mind to break his other shoulder. You are not insecure. You are entitled to your feelings, and he shouldn’t have invalidated them. You just have to look at things from his perspective. After the loss of well...you know, he has closed himself off in a way from every really truly loving someone. That was, until he met you. The past three years I have seen my brother grow so much. He truly, madly, deeply, loves you. I think part of him feels like if the stress of you two going public is too much for you, he may lose you in more ways than one. I don’t think he would survive that if that were to happen. I believe that you two can work this out. You just need to be completely honest with each other. We love you Y/N and we would really hate it if you and Pedro broke up. You just need to take things slow. I believe both of you will really grow from this.”

Thankfully at that point, you had pulled up to the Pascal family home. So as soon as the car was parked, you quickly undid your seatbelt and threw yourself into Lux’s arms, “Thank you Lux, for everything. I owe you more than you know. Your words mean so much. I promise you I will do my absolute best to work out things with Pedro. So much of what you said makes total sense. We both let things get out of control. We should have really listened to each other and saw where each other was coming from. I think we both invalidated each other. I hate to say it, but maybe him getting hurt is what may help us put everything into perspective and work things out.”

“See now that’s the spirit. You just gotta go into this positively and have an open mind. Now come on, let’s go see that boyfriend of yours,” Lux smiled brightly.

Walking into the Pascal Family home, it was still warm and welcoming like you remember. When Pedro first brought you there, you could remember how nervous and scared you felt, but as soon as his family welcomed you with open arms, you felt like you had been part of the family for years.

Following Lux to the kitchen, you smelled wonderful cooking on the stove. That’s when you saw Pedro’s father Jose come around the corner, “Oh sweetheart, you made it! So glad that you could make it. I wish it wasn’t under these circumstances, but I’m glad you are here.”

“Yes, I came quickly as soon as I could Mr. Pascal. There is no other place that I’d rather be. I am so thankful that Lux called me,” you said giving the older man a big hug.

“Well, I’m sure that son of mine will be very happy to see you. Lord knows that he could use the company. And please for the thousandth time, call me Jose,” he chuckled.

“You got it Jose. So how is he holding up?”

Jose frowned as he thought back at what happened, “He is okay for now. Poor guy gave us all a scare. I feel so horrible. He is upstairs sleeping now. Why don’t you go to him? It’s the first door on the right.”

Nerves suddenly overtook you as you nodded and headed towards the stares. You couldn’t help but have visions of Pedro lying at the bottom of them. Guilt then consumed you as you knew that you should have been here. Like he said, it was so dumb to pick a fight right before the holidays. You should have just calmly asked about the picture and the other stuff, well the other stuff should have waited.

Quietly opening the door, your heart broke as you saw the love of your life sound asleep. His poor arm being held closely to him by a sling. Walking over to the bed, you gently pulled the covers back, took off your shoes, and got in next to him. You carefully tucked yourself into the side of his good arm. His breathing was slow, and you could hear his heart beat under your ear as you rested your head on his chest.

Pedro must have sensed the pressure on his chest, because you felt him take a deep breath and let out a groan. Lifting your head, you saw those big brown eyes staring down at you. “Mi vida...is...is that you?” he said hoarsely.

“Yes baby, it’s me,” you smiled and cupped his bearded cheek. “Lux called me and said that you took a spill. I took the first flight that I could get out here. You had me so worried.”

“I told no one to call you. I knew flights were going to be hard to come by. I wanted to call you myself when I was feeling better,” he pouted.

That damn pouty look of his was so adorable. You couldn’t help but lean up and place a small kiss on his lips. “Don’t be mad baby. I’m happy that someone called. Now you have your own personal nurse to help get you back to help.”

His pout turned in to a big smile as he got an idea, “Oh yeah huh? Do you think Santa will bring a naughty nurses outfit?”

“If you play your cards right mister, I think I can make something happen,” you then captured his bottom lip between your teeth and gave it a little nibble.

“I love you too Pedro and thank you for apologizing. I need to apologize to you too,” you smiled through tear-soaked lashes. “And I’m sorry for not seeing your side or reason. I was filled with so much anger and feeling betrayed that I just had tunnel vision. My mind was only seeing things one way. I just that all I could see was how happy you too looked together and a big part of me wishes that it was me with you. I couldn’t help but feel like you are ashamed of being seen with me. I wished so badly that I was the one that you were parading around happily and the one that was making you smile that way. I know you are trying to protect me, Pedro. And I know that you have this fear of something really bad happening to me. As much as I still think we can and will be okay if we do make our relationship public, we can handle it. We would have each other to lean on. However, if you want to keep things quiet and keep things the way that they are, I am willing to do that. I know how important my safety and well-being are to you Pedro. Hell, we have been doing a pretty good job staying quiet the last three years, so why change it.”

When you pulled back, Pedro ran his hand through your hair and sighed, “I...I... I’m sorry mi vida. I’m so sorry for everything. I apologize for not telling you about going out and I am so fucking sorry for calling you insecure. That was my anger talking, not the real me.” When you went to open your mouth, he gently placed a finger to your lips, “Please mi vida, just let me finish. I need to get all of this off my chest. I never meant for you to find out about the get together from the internet. I had every intention of telling you, but I forgot. Between packing, the holidays, and everything that I have to do next month, it really did slip my mind. I know I should have for peace of mind, should have sent a text letting you know what’s going on. I know that if I saw you in that position, I would have lost my shit too. I swear to you nothing else happened that night. Me and her didn’t even speak that much. She was completely on the opposite of the table. I only really talked to her when she told us about the stalker and as soon as I walked her to the car, I came straight home. I love you with all my heart. I would never cheat on you. I would never jeopardize our future like that. And you are not insecure. That was an asshole thing to say, and I will spend the rest of my days making it up to you. You are the strongest woman that I know. You are the backbone of our relationship and the reason I keep going every day.”

Pedro reached out with his good arm and wiped the tears from your puffy face, “As much as I appreciate you doing that for me, mi vida, I had a lot of time to think things over and I realized that you are completely right. I have been being selfish and unfair to you. I have been putting my job and fears ahead of you and that’s not right. You have never asked me for a thing and the first time that you asked me to do something for you, I completely shut you down. It’s not that I’m ashamed to be seen with you. Like I said, it’s all been my fears controlling my every move with you, especially now. It was my fears that kept me from almost introducing myself to you and now that I have you, it’s my fears that are making me extremely overprotective of you. I’m just really scared that my fans or the media will come after you before they even have a chance to know you. I don’t want to see you get hurt. You do not deserve that. I just can’t shake this feeling that all the stress and negativity will become too much for you and something will happen. I can’t let that happen and I refuse to let that happen. I would never forgive myself for that. I can’t lose you mi vida.”

Now it was your turn to be the strong one and comfort him. You held his hand tightly, while running your other through his soft curls, “Pedro Pascal, love of my life, my future baby daddy, thank you for being honest with me. That’s all I wanted. You don’t know how much I appreciate that. You don’t know how thankful that I am that I found someone like you. You are the greatest lover, friend, and protector that I have ever had. Not a day goes by where I don’t feel safe where it’s in your arms or by the sound of your voice when you are away. That’s why I am not afraid to be seen in public with you. I know that no matter what may happen, good or bad, you will be right there with me to help guide me. I honestly think that it won’t be that bad. Sure, it may be chaotic in the beginning but at the same time, it may not. Your fans love you Pedro and while they might be a little sad that you are seeing someone, I’m sure that they will be happy for you. Apart of me just keeps thinking of what happens if we do slip up and get seen together. Don’t you think that it would be best if we get ahead of this ourselves versus having someone else do it and spread lies. Do this on our own terms?”

“But…but…would you really be okay with this though? I really need you to think. You would be giving up your privacy. These days people are going to find everything about you that they can on the internet. Are you ready to see every move we make, documented by social media? I need to know that you aren’t going to run or shut down at the first sign of trouble. I need to know that how you reacted to the picture won’t happen again.” If you both agreed to this, he knew that this was going to be the ultimate test to your relationship.

“Pedro, I promise you on everything that I am not going to run. I have thought this through, and this is what I want. I really don’t care what people say. All that matters to me is your opinion and your opinion only Pedro. I will be the only one who knows the real you and you are the only one who will know the real me. I really want to take this next step with you Pedro. I want to be that proud girlfriend and hopefully wife who gets to brag about how amazingly talented their partner is. I want to be the first hug and kiss when you win an award. I want to show everyone how I’m the lucky one to have you in my life. If you still aren’t sure about this Pedro, then like I said, I’m happy to keep things the way that they are. But what do you say baby, will you take this leap of faith with me?”

Fighting back his own tears, Pedro nodded his head. Still to this day, even three years later you still found a way to floor him, and he knew that you would continue to. You were so fucking incredible, and he got to call you his. He was still in disbelief that you gave him a shot. The thing that he loved about you and should have trusted in the beginning was how even after a fight, you found a way to be levelheaded and work things out. He never felt lost when you were with him. And even though you called to him to help guide you through the crazy waters that is the celebrity life, it was you that helped guide him though every life.

Every day you brought out the best in him. You gave him the inspiration to be the best man that he could be. Everything that he did, he did for you. He did everything that he could to make you proud. He tried to be that someone that you could proudly show off as the love of your life. He couldn’t believe that he had the potential to be your husband and father of your kids. Two things he didn’t think were ever going to be possible till he met you. You were everything that he could ever want, and you were everything that he could ever need. You were the one that he would take this leap with.

“I Pedro Pascal, would love nothing more than mi vida. You are right, no matter what happens, we will be in this together. You are remarkable and I think it’s time the world gets to know the woman that has captured by heart. Just at any point, please if things get too much, you need to tell me. All you have to do is say the word and I will do my best to shut it down. Can you promise me that mi vida? I’ll promise to be more open and understanding with you, if you promise to be open with me. This is the only way that it will work.”

“Yes Pedro, I promise you. We will get through this baby. I know we can,” you then carefully wrapped your arm around his good side and buried yourself into that strong neck of his. “I love you, Pedro Pascal. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, mi vida, with all my heart. And I make another promise to you here, right now. I will marry you Y/N and we will have as many kids as you want. Just say the word and I will get down on my knees. You deserve the world and I want to give it to you,” he muttered into your hair before placing a kiss on your head.

You pulled back slightly enough to rest your head on his, “I do have the world, Pedro. I have everything that I want and need right here.” You then leaned forward and pressed your lips against his.

Both of you moaned as soon as your lips met. These past few days that you were apart were brutal. Going days without speaking, cuddling, or kissing, was something that you never wanted to experience again. It wasn’t like when he was on set, and you couldn’t see him. No, this was way worse and both of you hated it.

Pedro couldn’t help but bring his hand up and run it down your side till he reached your backside. Giving it a rough squeeze, causing you to moan into his opened mouth, he pulled you close and deepened the kiss. But as he slipped his tongue in, he moved just enough to send a shot of pain running through his body, causing him to cry out in pain.

“Shit baby, are you okay?” you gasped and pulled away quickly.

He groaned, gritting his teeth and hunching over. “Just…just give me a minute.”

Never leaving his side, you sat there next to him making sure that you rubbed his back and peppered kisses on his good shoulder until the pain started to subside. “Just breathe baby, just breathe it out. I’m here, I’m here,” you whispered to him, running your hand through his sweaty hair.

“Th…thank you mi vida. Forgot that I can’t really move like it want to,” he sighed. “The umm…the doctors said that I fractured my shoulder. I may need to have surgery. I am such an idiot.”

“Hey, look at me,” you said sternly and lifted his chin to look at you. “You are not an idiot. Accidents happen Pedro. Do you remember what happened?”

“I…I just fell. I must have tripped and lost my footing. Next thing I know I’m at the bottom of the stair and everyone is running to me. My dad and sister took me straight to the ER. I can’t believe that I scared the shit out of everyone.” He could still see the petrified look on everyone’s faces, including his nephews.

You shook your head disappointedly, but you had warned him countless times to slow down when it came to stairs especially at your own house. “Jesus Pedro, you are so lucky that you didn’t break your neck. Have you called your doctor back home? Lux said something about a second opinion.”

“No, I haven’t called anyone yet. I just want to sleep and do all of that tomorrow,” he sighed leaning back into his propped-up pillows.

Your heart broke at seeing how much pain he was in. For being such a big man, at that moment, he looked so small. If you had the ability to take his pain away, you would. Instead, you were going to help him anyway that you could and nurse him back to health. “You sleep then baby. I’ll go downstairs and start getting everything sorted out. Do you need me to get you anything?”

Pedro nodded and looked up at you with his big brown puppy dog eyes, “Stay with me, mi vida. I know that plane ride wasn’t the most comfortable thing. You look exhausted. Take a nap with me?”

“Of course, baby, you don’t even have to ask twice. Let me just get out of these jeans first,” you told him as you stood up to strip them off and your sweater.

“That’s so not fair, mi vida. You just can’t get naked in front of me like that while I’m laid up here,” he pouted.

Rolling your eyes as you got back into bed, you couldn’t help but softly slap his chest, “I’m not naked and if even if I were and you weren’t hurt, we wouldn’t be doing anything in your father’s house naughty boy. No sex for a while I’m afraid. Last thing we need is for you to get more hurt because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.”

“That’s a chance I am willing to take mi vida,” he laughed and wrapped his arm around you as you cuddled into him. “I love you and thank you for coming to take care of your old man.”

“No need to thank me baby. There is no other place that I would rather be. Let’s just promise not to fight anymore, okay. And absolutely no more falling downstairs.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #hurt/comfort #injury #fluff #angst with a happy ending #romance

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uarmygguk · 12 days ago

Text

once again under the mistletoe

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ in which . . prince!jk and princess!oc are gifted with a deluge of adversities. in what was expected to be a day of joy, will they find happiness again? the one that was lost in a mirage a year ago?

gguk's ficbook words, 2.3k filter, @ lovelogs on polarr,, thank you! love diaries, music rec for once again under the mistletoe — "happiness is a butterfly" — lana del ray [specifically for the last part], "i love you" — billie eilish

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Winter came anew, snow spread all over like a soft white blanket, a few pellets here and there. You walked out of the palace, draped in layers of clothing which wrapped warmth around, as you walked down the imperial staircase decorated royally with different kinds of fairy lighting and small baubles stuck onto the handrail. Elegant and festive air engulfed the palace atmosphere. As you waltz to the extravagant Jeonju palace hall, you see workers hurrying, walking hither-thither in order to get the big Christmas tree decorated. Like the friendly woman you are, you greet each one of them as they serve a bow to you. A slow smile lines on your lips while you make your way to the door and out into the palace garden covered in layers of snow.

The kingdom of Jeonju preparing for Christmas is arduous.

They say, all princesses are happy, for they have everything they want. No struggles and zero distress. But a princess, beyond the shimmery crown, harbors a soul.. Breathes the same air as everyone irrespectively.

Your life was complete, in the eyes of a commoner. Jewelry, innumerable dresses, people to cater to basic needs, everything.

You were surely grateful, but a constant void colored in the outlines of your mind, enhancing its emptiness.

The scent of winter was apparent, air turned more frigid as you clutched the clothes draped around you, pressing them more onto your skin as a shield, before sitting down on the bench amidst the green and white expanse of the palace garden.

Numerous thoughts smoothly slide into your mind watching the snow decorate the bushes and trees. Sparing a soft glance at your left hand, your other hand slightly caresses the shining diamond ring encircling the ring finger.

A promise ring. Defining your love for one another, signifying that your heart belongs to him and only him. Jeon Jungkook. He is the only man you have in your heart and secure your love for.

Jeonju’s deemed enemy, the prince of Busan.

[ Previous Christmas : A year ago ]

Tip-toeing through the silent hallway of your palace at night with only minutes left for the clock to strike twelve was— peculiar. Especially for a Princess who was forbidden to step foot out of the palace without umpteen bodyguards clearing her way.

You were always kept away even from normal experiences. No public interactions, no relationships to cherish, nothing.

Just because your dad, the King of Jeonju, feared his rivals, he kept you indoors shut out from all danger.

Standing to a side, finding space behind the statue of some revered ancestor, your breaths fogged up the smoothly maintained bronze surface of the rigid man’s metal torso— the cold air dominating.

You look around, silently scrambling to the nearest exit in a flash.

Save?

The jolly air of the palace backyard facing the town hit so vividly, the Christmas cheer already highlighting each of the houses— which were only miniature structures visible from your current position.

The previous day, you heard the maidens in the palace talking about a Christmas ball that was being held in the kingdom of Busan. Yes, you knew they were cut-throat enemies of Jeonju. But, you cared less, and decided to take part in it.

Discreetly.

It was a task, really, but convincing Soojin— your personal handmaiden— to lend you one of her unused dresses and accessories was quite easy.

Step 1, check.

Now you stand near the stables, whistling to Ira, your best friend, partner in crime.

Ira gallops in glee, however you could sense the tired whine she lets out the moment you feed her— boosting up energy for the adventurous night ahead— the way to Busan, now your red carpet to freedom.

___

Slowly walking through the wide hall— where several people were huddled up enjoying their time with their dance partners as a melodious Christmas tune was being enunciated by the royal band—you smiled heartily after a long time seeing everyone forget war and crime, just dancing to their heart’s content.

Soon, you were pulled further into the crowd softly, and looking up, you found a pair of very familiar doe eyes boring into yours.

“I knew you'd come.” He whispered, leaning towards your ear, hearing his voice after the longest time sent shivers down your spine. You’ve been close to only one person in your whole life, and he is the one who stood before you, hands circling around your waist, holding you against him.

Before the Kingdoms got into war, you both were best friends. He was a necessity like morning coffee, unwavering partner in most childhood shenanigans— and maybe just maybe, yours.

Both of you knew, for lifetime, that you're meant to be eachothers'. It wasn't required to be put in long words,

You just knew.

In fact, Busan and Jeonju weren’t enemies until the war that wreaked havoc all around the place. From then, you never got to meet him.

The kingdoms separated, cutting all ties, and even imposing regulations on citizens.

Never did you think that he’ll remember you after all that happened.

You took the biggest risk, now standing in a ballroom where thousands of people could see and recognize your presence.

However, his hold on you only tightened.

“I thought you wouldn’t remember me.” You let out shakily, overwhelmed with all the emotions striking through your being.

He swayed your bodies side to side rhythmically, his mouth still near your ear.

“I can’t afford to forget my princess.” Still dancing to the music, a tear rolled down your eye, head rested upon his shoulder ever so gently. And that small action showed how you missed and longed for him, the only person that gave you love.

“Loving your dress choice for the night, angel.” He chuckles, looking down at the faded material of your clothing. Running a hand through the lace that graced the neckline, his hands rest back on your waist, never ceasing to follow the mellow slow dance.

“You’re making fun of me, when I came such a long way to meet you. Talk about being a man.” Your eyes almost meet the back of your head, rolling them in mock anger, as he connects your foreheads with a breathy laughter rumbling through his chest.

You feel it.

Your hands on his chest, you feel the happiness.

The warmth you were never sure of, until now.

He carefully lets you step on his long pointed shoes— finely polished into shiny black— as your gloved palms find home on his shoulders.

And what you were unaware of, was his sneaky intention.

You looked up, to see the both of you standing near the grand Christmas tree, small branches of mistletoe hanging above your heads. Gaze fixed on Jungkook’s doe eyes, he whispered “I’ve been waiting for this moment for years, princess. Let me-“

“PRINCE JUNGKOOK !!” A deep yell echoed throughout the hall as everyone flinched and gasped, Jungkook detached himself from your figure, knowing the source of that authoritative voice. The music halted midway and now, all eyes were on the both of you.

The King of Busan, threw a sharp glare at you, as you bowed to him, eyes darting around the empty ground. “What are you doing with her? She’s our enemy’s daughter, the Princess of Jeonju. And you, who let you step into our palace?”

“I told her to come” Jungkook stood in front of you defensively.

“May you enlighten me on who gave you the right to decide, when I’m well and alive?” He asked Jungkook, tension crackling between their gaze.

“I love her, dad. I want her to be my Princess.”

You were absolutely stunned at his confession. He did not say “Princess of Busan”. No titles. Just his.

“JUNGKOOK, HOW DARE YOU TALK BACK TO ME?” The King raised his voice, outraged at his son’s audacity.

“I want to make my own decisions,-” He was about to go on, but you noticed The King was at his absolute limit of tolerance. You had to intervene.

“Jungkook please. You can’t talk back to your father.”

“YOU, you are the reason he talked back to me, his father. I will not spare you and your kingdom. Guards ! I want her out. This instant.” The King ordered as your eyes widened in terror. This news will surely reach your Kingdom and much worse— your father.

And that shouldn’t happen no matter what.

Like he read your thoughts, Jungkook held his hand up, gesturing the guards to stop moving further.

“I’ll leave.” He simply stated, your whole body shook in terror, slowly holding his shoulder with your right hand.

“Why” A small shaky whisper left your lips. He turned towards you, smiling.

“Princess, I promise to come back to you. If I don’t leave now, you will be in great trouble, I don’t want that to happen. You deserve a lot more in life.”

“Out. Now.” His dad said nonchalantly, as you watched Jungkook slip through the swarm of people, their mouths agape in stupefaction as murmurs filled the air.

Who never thought this Christmas night would be so eventful.

Breaking down into heavy sobs, tears glistened in a cascade through your skin.

He sacrificed everything he had for you.

Not wasting any more time, you bolted out of palace and from the Kingdom of Busan.

Ira was in no state to carry you any further, her growing neighs filled with complaint reaching your ears.

What did that poor animal do anyways.

You sigh and hop down, patting her soft body, calming her down and perching on a bench in the outskirts of the Kingdom, the dim streetlights casting a glow over.

Almost instantly, a piece of parchment slipped out of Ira’s side pocket, and caught your attention.

Opening it, you found a few words scribbled on it :

Would I ever be able to visit you in that dream Where you and I are eternal Not a goodbye, but a faint quest I leave, for answers I promise to come back With my healing wounds, I had left in my heart for eternity I’m still with you Darkness of the waves in me will be long gone by then You're my everything, words can't describe your soul Our Heart strings still embracing each other I’m never letting go Never in a million years 기대해줘 (wait for me) ~ yours, jeongguk.

A ring slips out of the envelope, and onto the ground, clattering in the loud silence of the surroundings, as Ira stirs from the sides, alerting your attention.

quietly taking it from the sandy pathway, you dust it and put it on.

You don’t cry.

Just longingly stare at the ragged piece of paper.

[ Present Time : 25th December ]

'Tis the season to be jolly', they say.

Not for the Princess of Busan.

The title felt heavy on your shoulders, each time your entire family brings up the happenings of a year ago.

You never celebrated Christmas with joy after the incident.

Instead, you simply used to walk around Jeonju and watch everyone spend their time with loved ones just to put your heart at ease.

And that’s exactly what you were doing right now.

Walking around the street, disguised in Soojin’s dress (yet again), watching people shop for gifts, some out in front of their houses decorating the trees, the endearing giggles of the children who laughed and played around filling up in the air.

As you continued the stroll, you stumbled upon a small hall from which low chattering erupted.

Stopping near its door you peered in, careful not to get noticed by anyone inside. But suddenly a group of girls pushed their way in, taking you along with them, accidentally inwards.

The whole place was decorated minimally but it looked pretty.

Christmas cheer everywhere, it’s the first time you felt festive. The whole aura of the place just fit the season.

A medium sized tree perched on the floor and vines of mistletoe on and around the tree.

Busy admiring the place, you felt a small tug at the hem of Soojin’s hand away dress that adorned your body— one that aided you in this disguise.

Looking down, a tiny girl smiled widely at you.

Gently crouching down to meet her eyes, you asked her ;

“Hey baby, what’s your name?”

“I’m Mina ! You look like a princess ! I want you to dance with my Koo!” She exclaimed as your eyebrows crashed in confusion.

“Who is Koo, Mina?” In response to your query, she pointed towards a tall man, back turned to the both of you as he talked away with other men around him.

“He’s my Prince ! And I want a Princess to love him, a princess who’s as kind and caring just like the one in the story Koo tells me everyday!” She sounded so excited to introduce you to him, and pulled you towards the man.

“Koo ! Mina found a Princess for you, now dance with the others, it’s Christmas, come on.” She nudged his arm and the moment your eyes met with his, the world seemed to stop.

The same doe eyes that carried your galaxy.

“Princess?” He was surprised to see you there.

Mina immediately put your hands into his, the comfort of them which you felt after an eternity, had a lasting effect.

She pushed you towards the crowd, déjà vu rushing in at the whole setting— Christmas day and the dance— taking you back to the last one almost instantly.

A million questions in your mind, he pulled you closer once again, but this time the hold was more firm and confident.

Like he’ll never doubt it.

Like he never did.

You couldn’t help but let out tears, drowning into his eyes as the music played in the background, the mistletoe above your heads once again.

“Princess, look up” You followed his words and looked up only to find the mistletoe right above your heads again.

“Seems like they're determined to make us kiss.” You joked and he shook his head, resting his forehead on yours, you couldn’t get enough of his eyes, wanting to look at them forever.

“Aren’t you looking into my eyes a little too much? Makes me flustered, princess.”

“I don’t want to stay away from you anymore. Let me look at you, what if you’d disappear again? How did you end up here?” You asked, bodies still swaying slightly in accordance to the music.

Unsaid words, but you knew your hearts were situated tightly in eachother's iron grips.

“I wanted to see you all the time, didn’t want to give up, so I came here, worked many hours in this small shop to be independent, I don’t want a kingdom that banished me, anymore, when I have my world with me,”

He looks at you with adoration.

"Knowing you're somewhere around, here in Jeonju, that was all that I needed to keep moving forth. Remember my promise?"

You nod, fingers finding its way into the fabric of his ragged, grey overalls, gripping lightly. He notices the ring wrapped on your finger and caresses it, face splashed with surprise.

Intertwining his hand with your ring-clad ones, your bodies sway further under the mistletoe hanging above.

"Do you live here?" Your simple question makes him smile, hands pushing a few wispy strands of your hair to the side.

"Yes, this is my humble abode, Mina's parents own the shop I work in. I live alone, in their outhouse."

He looks at Mina, excitedly playing around with a few of her friends, running around the tree all ready to open the gifts— dancing in tiny moves, occasionally, to the joyous music.

Your eyes follow, and realize— watching his calm face shine brightly under the yellow lights reflecting through the room.

You're not ready to let go.

"I'm so proud of you, never thought I'd see you again." You feel his calloused hands caress you cheeks, thumb rubbing over the unnoticed beads of tears.

He pauses, turning to look at you in deep contemplation.

“I used to see you when you walked around the palace gardens. From afar.”

“You could’ve approached me, oh, you don’t know how much I missed you, Jungkook.” You replied, slowly bringing your palm around his nape, bringing his face closer to rest your cherry lips on his.

Surprised by your bold move, he smiles into the kiss, sharing all the passion that he had through it, hands encircling your waist, arching you into him.

A feeling you both yearned for, lips on each other for the first time under the mistletoe, anew.

Once again under the mistletoe, this time it’s forever.

────୨ৎ────

uarmygguk. 2025.

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