#but then there are times where I would stare at a peanut butter chocolate in the fridge and be like but what if and my ex would be like NO

[polyamorouspunk]

Not suicidal ideation in a “what if I tried to kill myself” way but masochism in a “what if I just ate a ton of peanut butter and gave myself a really unpleasant but probably not life-threatening time” way

[januaryembrs]

Hi!! Could I please order a spicy hot chocolate for Spencer Reid? (Like you know, the ones that people put cayenne pepper in?!)

You’re an incredible writer and human!

BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND | Spencer Reid x Reader

description: your brother brings home his dorky college classmate, Spencer

length: 2.5k

warnings: spicy, SMUT (omg Em attempts smut and even then its pretty tame but why are my hands shaking), minors dni! heed my warnings this is not for you minors!! nipple stuff, mens genitalia mentioned, Spencer and reader get horny for one another oop. I really hope this is okay I've literally written smut once and even then I second guessed myself so much. SEASON ONE GLASSES SPENCE. BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND SPENCE. smut under the cut.

You felt eyes on you without even having to turn where you were stuffing laundry into the washing machine, your face sweaty with the midsummer heat. 

“Jesus Christ, you look like Hot Topic threw up on you,” Your brother’s voice resounded as two sets of footsteps entered the kitchen, and someone cleared their throat where you were bent over, denim shorts riding high up your ass cheeks. 

Flicking a look over your shoulder, you pulled the spoon full of peanut butter out of your mouth, yanking a headphone out of your ear to address him. 

“Don’t shit your pants, dickbrains, it’s all I have until my clothes are clean,” You snapped at Ryan, tongue dancing with the creamy, sweet spread, and your eyes dropped to his left where his best friend fussed over his sweater cuffs, a duffel bag on his back, and your eyes softened as you saw Spencer looking flushed in your kitchen, “Hi, Spence,” 

“Hi,” He peeped shyly, and you smiled widely at the obscenely tall boy who had been to your house a number of times. Ryan had met Spencer on the first day of college, or at least his first day. For Spencer, it had been six years already, his third doctorate well underway, and the two had quickly bonded over something dumb and nerdy you’d never bothered to take note of. You clicked the dials on the machine to a low setting, pouring some detergent into the drum and pressing the ‘Start’ button.

“You guys doing homework?” You asked, fixing where your shirt slouched off the side of your shoulder, exposing your lack of bra and baring your collar bones, and you were quick to catch the way Spencer’s hazel hues fell there with something fleeting and guilty in his expression. 

“We’re not twelve years old calculating how many watermelons Sally and Jess have all together,” Your brother scoffed, screwing his lips in annoyance, just as much as any twenty year old pumped full of hormones and energy drinks. “We’re writing a paper on thermodynamics; Spencer’s staying over tonight,”

Rolling your eyes at his know it all snark, you pulled a face back at him, despite the fact you were one year older. You looked to his left where Spencer stuffed his hands in his pockets, his cheeks pink as he caught himself like a fly in honey in one of your usual arguments. 

“Do you want a drink, Spence?” You offer, ignoring Ryan’s shitty attitude, heading over to the fridge and swinging the door open, your fathers bottles of beer clinking together where they lay flat on the top shelf. 

“Soda would be great, please,” Spencer murmured, trying not to stare as you leaned over, those little, black hot pants skirting up so far his face felt feverish and he forced himself to look at the linoleum tiles in a scrambled attempt to control his thoughts. 

He felt like a kid again, with a stupid little crush on the older girl who batted her lashes and called him Spence and smiled at him like you knew exactly how you made that big brain of his turn to mush when you spoke to him. 

Handing him a Coke, he tried to ignore the way your cold fingers brushed and avoided your gaze at all cost.

“Thankyou,” He said, his voice cracking in the very middle of it in a way that made him feel like a total loser, and he heard you giggle, his neck growing a prickling hot. 

Before you could say much else, his friend grabbed his sleeve, tugging him in the direction of his room where you couldn’t bother them anymore. 

Spencer was thinking about your laugh the entire afternoon, until they gave up writing and turned to watching Star Trek, the evening air quickly turning humid and dark, and he begged the tightness in his boxers to leave him be for even just a second.

Only, he found no such luck, tortured by the thought of you being just a single flight of stairs away from him. 

–

You were doing dishes by the time you heard him again. Assuming it was Ryan, you made no effort to greet him since it usually was only responded with a grunt or cuss anyways. 

Except you could tell by the footsteps that were too careful, the presence that was too soft, even by the way he cleared his throat nervously, that it certainly wasn’t your obnoxious brother who had come into the kitchen for a midnight snack. 

Whirling around at the sound, Spencer stood on the other side of the dining table you'd been sitting at just a few hours ago eating pasta and listening to your mom recounting her stressful day in the office. Thin, framed glasses perched on his nose, ones you’d never seen before, glinting in the light from the oven as he blinked at you behind the lenses. 

“Spence,” You said with a tired smile, eyes dropping to his shirt and plaid trousers, “Cute jammies,” 

He paused for a second, looking down to the grey Doctor Who set, a diagram of the TARDIS splayed across his chest, and he blanked when he tried to figure out if you were kidding or being genuine, “Thank you. You too,”

He didn’t know why he’d said it, maybe because that’s just what you do when someone is being kind, except only then did he look at what you were wearing, and impossibly so it was even more scandalous than what you were wearing earlier. 

A tank top, if he could even call it that with how far it rode up, and a lacy pair of blush underwear, a pretty white bow resting just below your belly button. 

Following his gaze as it devoured your exposed appendage, you grinned at him devilishly, “Sorry, it gets pretty hot in my room at night,” 

“Y-yeah I can imagine you-you’re hot,” He stammered, realising what he said when you raised a brow at him, “B-because you’re a floor up, I mean, and heat rises because hot air has a lower particle density than cool air although some physicians believe-”

“I know what you meant, Spence,” You said with a smirk, moving around the table to stand in front of him, your feet padding softly against the cold floor. Looking up at him with a tilted head, you inspected the frames you realised were a mahogany brown now you were close enough to see them properly, you peered past the lenses and right into where his doe eyes stared back at you, skittish and flustered, “Are these new?” 

Spencer licked his lips nervously, “I used to wear glasses when I was a kid but now I wear contacts,” He said, rubbing clammy palms over his trousers. He could smell your detergent from here, the same one he’d seen you pour over your laundry just a few hours earlier, ‘Blossom breeze’ or something girly and sweet and floral like that. He didn’t know the brand, but it was entirely intoxicating, except he suspected it had nothing to do with the liquid and more to do with the fact he could see your nipples pressing against your shirt when you stood so close to him, “Girls don’t really think scrawny guys in glasses are.. hot,” 

You sniggered, though your brows furrowed the slightest bit, “Who told you that?” 

“Lot’s of girls, more than once actually, it’s just kind of common knowledge,” He fumbled, his chest pricking with nerves when your fingers moved up to grip his waist gently, thumbs danced down his hip bones, the gentle touch alone stirring his cock into a painfully hard stance. He gulped, the sound loud in the sombre twilight of the kitchen, and for a guy who had aced every single test he’d ever taken, who played chess against himself for fun to guess his next five moves, Spencer had no clue where he existed outside of your body so close to his, looking at him like he was a puppy begging for treats if he gave paw. 

“I think those girls are absolute boneheads if they can’t see how pretty you are, Spence,” You said his name as if it was the only one that had ever mattered, and he couldn’t help how his chest swelled at the sentiment, even if he wasn’t so off guard as to actually believe that. You’d always had this way of making people feel special, he saw it at your family barbecue last Summer, when your cousins flocked around you like you were their Queen Bee, how you seemed to make waiters and waitresses alike flush under your preening smiles and 'please's and 'thankyou's whenever you took Spencer and your brother out for dinner. 

“T-thankyou,” He replied after a thick breath, his chest rattling as you pulled him towards your calm figure, and he let himself be guided like he were leashed, “Y-you’re pretty too,”

He wanted to tell you so much more than that, that you were beautiful like all the popular girls at school were, only humble and kind like the golden part of you glittered inside too, except before he could even attempt at expanding on his three pathetic little words he’d stammered through laboured breaths, he effectively got fully disconnected from his brain when you leaned in towards his face and brushed your nose against his, testing the waters. 

Your gaze trailed up to his innocently, so close he could feel your minty breaths fanning over his bottom lip, and he guessed you’d already brushed your teeth ready for bed. 

“You really think I’m pretty, Spence?” You asked naively, even if he knew it was just because he forgot how to speak when you were too forward, as if you were trying not to spook a deer. He nodded quickly, his eyes zeroing on where your mouth was mere centimetres away from him, one single shiver in his spine and he would be kissing you, and like you’d heard his train of thought, you pushed your lips against his softly, his body jolting with an electric shock. 

There could be sirens surrounding the entire house and he would be none the wiser, because in mere seconds his blood was rushing through his eardrums, sounding like radio static, and it was only when he felt the vibration of it against his mouth did he realise you’d whined, and his hands sprung to life, cupping both your cheeks and tugging you closer to his face as if he was clinging onto every second of the feeling. 

Spencer groaned, a sound he didn’t even realise he was going to make until he felt your fingers squeeze him lightly, and he snapped back into his body like a hair tie slinging him back into a world where the girl he’d had a teeny, tiny, maddening crush on for months was making out with him in her kitchen. 

“‘Gotta be quiet, baby, my parents are asleep,” You said, breathless as you ripped yourself away from him, despite the fact he was insistently pulling you back towards his mouth, and you smiled up at his urgency, “You ever kissed a girl before, Spence?”  

He sighed, and you’d never counted him as sassy until you heard it, almost spoiled and bratty now you’d given him a taste of heaven and held it back from him for the sake of small talk.

“Once, at recess in fifth grade, but it wasn’t like this,” He said, yanking you back towards him ravenously, and you let him devour your lips again, grinning into his desperate mouth, “Never been like this,” 

You weren’t sure whether he meant himself or what was likely a peck on the lips between kids as a dare, but you didn’t think too hard about it, as you slotted yourself back into his rough hands, calluses on the insides of his right fingertips from the years holding a pen so hard he might just break it. He felt your mouth open, and he followed your lead, your tongue feathering out with a shyness you showed nowhere else. And it was like every single statistic and number and fact about sharing saliva flew out of his head with wanton need as he dove right for the source, the tip of his tongue meeting yours with a warm nudge and he heard you mewl in pleasure. 

Spencer didn’t know what had come over him. Only moments ago he’d been too nervous to even look at you in fear of stumbled around a few syllables and calling them words. Yet here he was, his glasses slipping down his nose and pressing against the bridge of your own, your chest pressed so close to him he could feel your nipples pebbling against his TARDIS shirt, and it was like it was then he remembered you had no bottoms on except your panties. 

He hooked a hand underneath one of your legs, hiking it up to his waist and pushing even further up against you, the sudden movement making you gasp, your lower back hitting the dining table as his pubic bone ground against the ball of nerves that had been aching since you caught him shuffling around your kitchen in his damn Doctor Who pyjamas. 

Sliding his broad fingers up, your skin spread into gooseflesh and it was your turn to become putty under his touch as he bravely grabbed a handful of your arse, though his touch was still light and uncertain if he was crossing any boundaries. The change in position meant you felt yourself leaning back, your spine spreading out like a cat in warm sunlight, and he was quick to accommodate you, ever eager to please as Spencer was, moving away from the warmth of your mouth and kissing his way down to your pulse, the feeling of it making both of you hum on quietened tones in pleasure. 

“Why have we never done this before?” You asked breathlessly, your chest rising frantically as you gasped for air, a hushed moan bleeding into your airways. 

Spencer held you upright with one of his long arms, thought his mouth devoured a path over your collar bones, heading right for where your breasts lay in wait, and he didn’t even bother trying to remove your top as he kissed over your nipple with hungry, warm lips. 

“I dunno, probably because Ryan wouldn’t be too happy with me trying to fuck his sister while he’s eating dinner,” Spencer said without thinking, his tone sharp and witty as ever, like the noises you were making and the desperation in your touch seemed to rewire his thoughts into something overindulged. 

But you laughed, loud enough you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from waking up the whole house, because you had no idea how you’d explain to them why you and Spencer had ended up half sprawled on the dining table as he practically fixed himself onto every inch of you. And without warning he chuckled too, the vibration blowing over your skin that was already humming with excitement. 

“Do you think we could do this more often?” You asked, raising yourself up onto your elbows as his hands spread over your stomach, riding your top up just the smallest bit so he could kiss over your stomach, his pupils blown out into planets behind his glasses, his cheeks tinged raspberry red, his gaze drunken like he was in some sort of sugar rush only ready to stop when he’d gotten his fill, though at the rate he was going Spencer thought that day might not actually come. 

You were a drug, a nectar he’d never come close to, and he felt like every kiss to your skin only made that well in his stomach dig deeper and deeper, possibly never running dry as his every thought overflowed with drops of you, and your smell, and your taste, and your tongue. 

Missing your lips, he moved back up to your face, crashing his mouth back onto yours as your fingers raked through his hair, the sensation jolting his rod like appendage into you own pelvis, the two of you shivering with the feeling of it. 

“I think we can arrange that,” He murmured, and you grinned up at him devilishly as he fiddled with the cotton hem of your underwear nervously, his boldness wearing off as he saw that glint in your eyes that spelled trouble. But he understood that nervous and excitement felt so similar it was easy to mistake one for the other, perhaps even mesh both together at the same time, and the logical explanation for his clammy hands and racing heart seemed to soothe him the slightest bit. 

He loved sleepovers at your house.

[shoyudon]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 .ᐟ

your pregnancy cravings are a bit . . . over the top.

starring. gojo satoru, choso kamo, nanami kento x fem! reader

heads up. none, just jjk men being baffled at your pregnancy cravings

note. i just have a thing for jjk men being dads, idk maybe it's how jjk should've ended :/

──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

"'m sorry baby, can you try to say that again — slower this time," he shakes his head, eyes widening the slightest bit at what he had just heard.

you look at him, dead in his eyes and muttered out a, "i want chicken noodle chocolate milk soup," gojo had to cock his head to the side at your unbearable request — he knew it was in the months where the cravings would get a little out of the box, but chicken noodle soup with chocolate milk as the soup?

he parted his lips to speak, but nothing came out so he pursed his lips shut again. the second time he tried speaking, the only sound that came out was a soft breath. you furrowed your brows at his reaction, hormones flaring as you took a bit of offense at his reaction.

gojo raised up his brows, realizing how the corner of your lips tugged down deeper at the passing second. immediately he approached you on the couch. getting on his knees to your eye level in front of you, "no, no baby, i didn't mean to upset you, 'm just a little surprised, that's it. i'll get you a bowl, 'kay?"

"you don't love me anymore?" you questioned him dramatically, and gojo almost chuckled knowing that this was part of the pregnancy journey — but seeing how serious you were, he didn't dare to even break into a small smile.

he shakes his head, "of course i love you, baby. more than anything, you know?" you narrowed your eyes at him as he tugs your hair behind your ear, "'m going to get you that chicken noodle soup, okay?"

finally, you nod your head at him, mumbling out a small and meek, "thank you, baby."

──────〃★ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

"what?" he asks in shock. he gently brought himself up into a sitting position — blinking his eyes before staring deeply into yours, "tuna and . . . blueberry jam?"

"'ts what the baby wants," you shrug cheerfully, feeling no shame in your undeniably weird craving combination, "tuna sashimi and blueberry jam," just at the thought of it, your mouth visibly watered.

on the other hand, choso could only gape silently at your statement, "the baby? why does the baby want tuna and blueberry jam? the baby's being weird. don't you think we should get them checked up? might be something wrong," choso concludes innocently, his brows furrowed as he scoots over to you, his hand rubbing the small bump on your stomach.

his innocence gnawed a chuckle from your throat, choso's mind in a turmoil as you prompted to laugh at his state of wariness and confusion, "cho, 'ts normal 'ts called pregnancy cravings — it happens a lot."

upon hearing your reassurance, his shoulders relaxed a bit, "pregnancy cravings . . ? i should get you tuna and blueberry jam then, the baby wants it."

you nodded vigorously, "can i come with you to the store? i wanna grab some snacks too," choso nodded mutely, intertwining his fingers with yours before raising your hand to his lips.

"mhm, i'd like both of your company," he muffles out into your skin.

──────〃★ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

"good morning, darling," nanami rubbed his eyes — a little confused to why you were up earlier than usual, with a pink colored bunny motive apron on, standing right by the kitchen stove with your face all scrunched up in apparent frustration, "why are you up so early?"

you didn't answer him, the vivid crackling coming from the hot pan in front of you earning every ounce of your attention. nanami tries to put two-by-two, his eyes roaming around the kitchen area.

a box of half-filled eggs. a plate of sunny side up eggs on a plate. cooking oil. peanut butter.

wait, peanut butter? he silently approaches you, wrapping an arm around your waist carefully — making sure he wasn't applying too much force on your bump nor you, "what are you craving?" he questions, his free hand turning off the stove.

finally, you look up at him, "jus' runny sunny side up eggs with peanut butter. but i couldn't get the yolk to run like i want it to," you softly whine at him.

he chuckles, kissing the back of your head, "i'll make it for you, and you," he states, "are going back to bed until then."

nanami wasted no time in slowly guiding you back towards your shared bedroom, tucking you in the bed — making you as comfortable as you could be. his slender fingers tangled in your hair as he tries to lull you back to sleep, "i'll wake you when it's ready," he whispers softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"thank you, ken."

he shakes his head, "it's my duty."

© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !

[letorip]

casual [iii]

"i hate that i let this drag on so long, now i hate myself, hate that i let this drag on so long, you can go to hell"

===+++===

pairing: natalie scatorccio x reader

summary: you're not just going to let her go, this time. after long enough, you arrive at the very obvious conclusion that you're in love, and there's very little else to be done about that

warnings: mentions of sex, cuss words, a bit of angst but i promise a happy ending :)

word count: 7.2k

A/N: all good things must come to an end. trust, i'll write for nat again. also i stayed in that airport so fucking long it was like purgatory, and i'm so sorry it took longer than i thought, i've had an exhausting past two weeks and just needed to stop and breathe for a minute

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THAT ONE ANON I FEEL BAD I'M LATE

===+++===

===+++===

"Please tell me you didn't do it on my sheets," Lottie groaned, lip curled in disgust and eyes hidden by her sunglasses.

"Sorry," you said back from behind your own pair, without looking away from the crystal blue of her pool water. You both were splayed out on her sun-bleached deck chairs, with matching hangovers (and bathrobes) that made the bright, beaming sunlight a whole new level of awful.

Her house was in disarray around you both, with crushed beer cans and overturned chairs all across the pool deck. Some cigarette butts floated in the water and you were certain the sprinklers in her garden were misting a pile of vomit and washing it down the front of her lawn, but neither of you made a move to get up and deal with it yet.

At the far end of the Matthews' pool, there was a statue of a mermaid that doubled as a fountain, spitting water in a gentle stream. Someone had put a snapback that said 'I <3 BOOBIES' on her and a bit of lipstick around the area that water shot out, and though usually you would have laughed, you instead were a bit annoyed by how it was taking you out of what would've been a nice scene.

There was just something about waking up and seeing Nat had gone without any sort of indication, that sparked the sudden urge within you to reconnect with nature. So you were reconnecting— more like brooding— on Lottie's pool deck in a peaceful silence.

After what felt like thirty minutes but was probably more like five, she turned to you. "Do you wanna—”

“—Talk about it?” you finished, raising your eyebrows. You shook your head. “No.”

She pouted. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to make pancakes.”

“Oh… then yes.”

You both lazily trudged into her equally wrecked kitchen, with even more cans and spilled liquids thrown over her marble counters. There was a burnt bag of popcorn sitting in the sink and the garbage can underneath it was overflowing with paper towels, but Lottie's kitchen was big enough where you could ignore it entirely, jumping up to sit on the clean countertop near her massive range cooker.

When Lottie said 'make pancakes,' she really meant she would be the one cooking and you would be there for moral support, if anything. You were gifted in many things but cooking or anything of the sort had never been one of them. Instead you leaned your head against the massive stone hood, and watched her from the pair of sunglasses you still wore.

Nat had laughed at you, when you said you didn't know how to cook. Not an omelette, not mac and cheese, and barely a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Of course, you assumed the last one wouldn't be hard to figure out, but you hadn't ever made one before, and it made her laugh into your chest, where her head had been resting. It hurt a bit now, but you had the sunglasses to shield your eyes while you stared off into space.

"Chocolate chips?" Lottie asked, running a hand through her dark hair and combing out a few knots with her fingers. You nodded, and she turned back to the pan in front of her, grabbing a fancy looking bag from a stack of supplies nearby. "My dad brought fresh chocolate back with him from when he was in the Caribbean a few weeks ago," she said to you, sprinkling it into the pan and flipping it over.

"Is he going to be pissed you're using it for pancakes?" you mumbled, feeling your headache return.

"No more pissed than he'll be when he sees that Jeff and his friends cut off the leg on one of his horse-shaped hedges." You winced, hopping down from the counter and feeling your back still scraped raw from, well, Nat. Lottie shot you a look. "That heated, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, heading towards the kitchen island and grabbing some of the beer cans to toss in the rubbish. "She's made her decision clear. I'm honestly done with it. I don't care anymore."

Lottie didn't say anything, turning back to the pancakes and sliding them on a plate as you slid into the barstool at the other end of her island and rested your head on your elbows. "I mean, she called me selfish, Lottie, and then said she loved me multiple times, minutes later. Who the hell does that?"

"Mhm," she hummed, sticking her spatula and the pan in the sink and then moving to the walk in pantry to grab syrup and powdered sugar.

You watched her go, calling after her. "She disappears for days after she gets mad about me talking to people, and then I see her immediately with Bobby Farleigh of all people, and they're cuddling up! I'm done with it all."

"Okay," Lottie said, reappearing with her arms full and tossing them down on the kitchen island. She clambered up into the seat next to you and stole some of the plain ones for herself, before covering them in syrup.

"And," you continued, remembering something else as you began cutting up the pancakes and smothering them in powdered sugar, "she egged my fucking house! How could I even forget about that? I mean, what was I thinking? I don't want to talk about her."

"Oh yeah," Lottie snorted. "You really don't want to talk about her."

You shot her a glare, stuffing your mouth with an angry fork. "I'm serious, Lottie."

"You wish," she scoffed. "If you were serious— and I'm not trying to be mean— but if you were serious, you wouldn't be ranting all about her. I know you keep saying it's impossible and it can't happen with her, but you sure as hell seem like you want it to happen with her."

You frowned, taking a forkful and stuffing it into your mouth. Right as you did, a couple sheepishly walked down the hall and towards the front door, clothes obviously messed up. They sent you an awkward wave and Lottie gave a quick nod in their direction, turning back to her plate. "Then why'd she leave?" you asked, when the door was shut behind them.

She shrugged. "Why the hell would I know? If anyone here would be the Natalie-whisperer, it would be you."

"Yeah well, apparently not," you huffed, shoving more pancakes into your mouth.

"I mean, it's not like you guys were on glowing terms before you... y'know. Wasn't gonna magically all be fixed, after." You groaned, leaning your forehead down onto the cool marble countertops. It actually felt nice, against your raging headache, but you still felt like crap.

"Would've at least been nice for her to wait until I woke up to go. No 'goodbye,' no 'we should talk,' nothing. When we were just hooking up and stuff, I at least always waited to say goodbye."

"So it's not just hooking up, anymore?"

"I don’t know what it is, Lottie. You tell me, because apparently everyone knows but me." She shrugged, finishing her plate and pushing it away from herself.

"I have an answer, but you're not gonna like it."

"...No, I'm not in love with her."

"You absolutely are."

"I'm done with this!"

"You keep saying that."

"'Cause I am."

"Okay."

"I'm done," you frowned, attempting finality in your tone and coming far short.

"Right," she snorted, and then she stood to grab your now-finished plate too. "Can you help me?”

It took around three hours, to get the Matthews house back to its usual formality. You sprayed burnt and disturbed bushes with the hose, threw out bag upon bag of party rubbish, and vacuumed cigarette butts off the carpet of her living room, silently working while Lottie played some records on her grandfather's old gramophone.

Her dad usually put jazz records on it or snooty classical music, whenever you were over, but Lottie had Dancing Queen blasting throughout her house and was hopping around as she snatched stuff off the mantle and shoved it into bags, turning to you and yelling a lyric from time to time, along to the music.

This wasn't your idea of fun by a long shot, but you could appreciate Lottie trying to make it fun.

"So, how much convincing did you have to do, to get Laura Lee here at a party? I mean, with the alcohol," you asked with a snort, grabbing an almost empty bag of crisps and tossing yourself down in her father's leather armchair to finish them off.

Lottie flushed. "A really embarrassing amount," she admitted. "I kind of glazed over that part."

"I'll bet she was surprised?" you asked with an amused crunch.

"It wasn't even that— this guy from my third period started going at it with this girl right in front her. I had to literally stop her from going over there to talk to them about waiting until marriage."

You shrugged. "I mean, she seems to like you a whole lot."

"She does," Lottie nodded. "She's so sweet to me, and she has the best hand to hold, like, ever."

"Honestly, I'm surprised, but happy for you. You're in a big ol' throuple with Jesus Christ."

"Ha ha," Lottie rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at you. "At least whatever we have is holy. I don't even want to think about you and—"

But whatever dig she would've said was cut off by her doorbell ringing. You sighed, letting your feet down from where you had propped them up on the side table and wiping the crumbs on your bathrobe.

"I'll get it," you grumbled, leaving Lottie to clean. When you opened the door there was absolutely no way you could've prepared to see her so soon.

Nat stood awkwardly in the entryway, looking just as surprised to see you as you were to see her. She wore a pair of blue shorts she practiced and slept in, and staring right back at you was the shirt you thought had gone missing weeks ago, barely hidden behind the ratty zip up hoodie she had over it.

Her eyeliner was still smudged from the night before in places, and you stared at her blankly, waiting for her to say something— anything, really.

"I forgot my damn lighter," she said, casting her eyes to the floor after a moment.

"Oh," you replied, feeling a bit stupid suddenly, in your bathrobe and sunglasses, with your flip flops for shoes. You looked like you were mid-spa day, or like someone's drunk uncle on a cruise. Then, before you could stop yourself, you felt an annoyance twinge in your gut, and said "Is that all you've got to say?"

Her eyes shot up, looking challengingly at you, in what was a clear frustration. "What do you want me to say?" But the answer went unsaid, even as much as you didn't like it. That you came back for me.

"I don't know..."

"Great," Nat scoffed. She looked over your shoulder into Lottie's house, as if her lighter would appear behind you and jump right into her hand, and she would just be able to leave. "Can I just have my—"

"—Why did you egg my house?" you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to block the door a bit more. She raised her eyebrows at you, confused.

"What?"

"You egged my house, after our argument," you repeated, slower, feeling the tips of your ears burning.

"No the hell I didn't."

"Yes the hell you did," you argued back, leaning forward with your hands on your hips. "You're the only one with the gate code. I get it, you were mad, but—"

"—Fucking Christ, I didn't!"

"You wrote a giant 'fuck you' on my house. No one else would."

Nat glared. "I didn't invent it. Is it such an impossible thing for you to consider that maybe not everyone is Team (Y/n)? I don't mean to break your brain, but for once somebody might actually dislike you."

You rolled your eyes. "You're the only one with a history of breaking rules and doing shit."

"So, what, you think I would do that to you?"

"Maybe you would. Maybe you don't care about me at all. That's why you ran off, wasn't it?"

She narrowed her eyes at you. "I had to go, before my dad caught me out."

You shook your head. "Bullshit. You've stayed out, before."

"Oh, so now you're mad that I'm not cuddling up to you?"

"That's not cuddling, that's having me stick my fingers in you and then you run off. You were pissed at me a few days before, Nat, for literally the same thing."

"It's almost like it's confusing, (Y/n), when you get mixed signals. And no, I got pissed at you because you went shopping for girlfriends— which, I'm assuming because you're being an oblivious, self-righteous asshole, you're still doing."

"Yep, still looking," you glared at her. She glared right back, just as steely.

"Great."

"Great," you replied. It was annoying, how good she looked when she was frustrated. She was great at looking mad, and even better at looking good when she was mad. The furrowing of her eyebrows, wrinkling of her nose in anger; she had the face you wanted to kiss away. It was impossible not to wonder, if doing so would uncurl her fists and smooth out the lines on her forehead.

Then you stopped. Holy shit. Everything seemed awful, like a massive case of vertigo had just washed over you. You had had hangovers before, but this somehow seemed infinitely worse. See, a thought had finally self-realised itself within your little peanut brain.

I'm in love with Nat.

It made the ceiling feel like the floor, and Nat sent you a concerned glance and seemed about to question your change in expression, when Lottie came from behind you.

"Hey, Nat," she said with an awkward smile, brushing past you with a look and then handing her the lighter quickly. "Excited for nationals?”

"Yeah," Nat nodded, but her eyes were still glaring at you. She cleared her throat, finally looking off. "Thanks, Lot. Great party."

"Mhm," Lottie nodded, trying her best to seem at ease and not at all like she was walking in on a code-red situation. "Have a great weekend! Bye now! Get home safe! See you!" She rushed, tugging you from beyond the doorway and giving a wave, before shutting the door.

The moment the door was closed, she gave you an unappreciative stare, but your eyes were wide and your cheeks flushed.

"What?" asked Lottie, her eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"I...I think I'm in love with her."

===+++===

Your home was just as empty as it was when you had left the night before. Reginald wasn't even due to come in, since your mother and father weren't home and it was a Saturday. Even the groundskeeper and maid had the day off, and the groan you let out at finally returning home and falling onto the warm rug on your living room floor echoed against the walls of your empty house.

In your hand was the letter you found in your mailbox. A cool black and Princeton-orange colour. You already knew what it said, without even looking into it. Your father and mother went there. His father and mother, too. For years and years and years. And now, if you followed the rules set out in front of you, you too.

It was impossible not to wonder, when the fog of privilege would slowly cloud your brain. Would it be the law degree from a private school, or legacy admissions? The more frightening thing was that maybe Nat was right: it had already set in, and you unaware. You at least felt different than the rest of them. That made you different, right? You and Lottie?

The image of Nat seemed ever-prevalent. Glowering at you, like she had been in the doorway. In your shirt. With that frown. The frown that you wanted to kiss away, but would never be able to. A Scatorccio, of all people. Of all people, you had to be in love with the one person you couldn't have.

It felt simultaneously like life had resolved into something more clear and understandable, and something more depressing and doomed. You wanted to forget the realisation, and the acceptance as well. Maybe it was truly better when you were promising your friends that you felt nothing of the sort.

Your eyes flitted from where they stared at the ceiling over to the giant brown bookcase in the corner, stacked high with thick volumes of what your dad had once said were family records, but you had never grabbed one off yourself. The one that stuck out against the brown leather-bound books was a more sleek, grey memoir with your grandfather’s name printed onto the hard cover casing.

That one you had read— your father had made you read it, when you were fourteen, and your parents gave up on trying for another kid. It wasn’t as dreadfully boring as you thought it would be, but it was still a memoir about a stuffy stockbroker from the 80s, with all the parts involving cocaine conveniently edited out, but not your grandfather’s insane escapades with women.

Your father was in the process of writing his own edition, and had thereby implied that he expected you to write one for yourself. You didn't know what you could possibly write about, but then again there was the expectation you write about it anyway. You weren't a guy on Wall Street, you weren't an international businessperson. You didn't even know what you were going to school for, yet.

Next to the bookshelf in equal intimidation was a painting of your family that your father had commissioned years ago. It was back when you still had braces and acne, but thankfully the artist had removed both. You hadn't been allowed to smile for it, though that's what child-you thought you did for pictures. Instead, you and your parents' mouths were drawn into disapproving lines and hardened expressions, and the golden plaque at the bottom wore your surname in proud, powerful letters.

You sighed, sitting up onto the palms of your hands and then standing slowly, still a bit uncoordinated. You sent the painting a final glance before you wandered to the phone, grabbing the thing and checking your watch while you did it. You slumped down into the seat at the end of your dining room table, where your father usually sat, and pulled the antenna from the top, punching in the numbers absentmindedly as you stared out the window onto the garden and the pool.

The number was for your father's Monaco residence, and you waited with a jumping knee and wry expression while it rang. Eventually, though, your mother picked up. "Hello?"

"Hello, mother."

(Y/n), darling, is something wrong? You know to call Reginald first, in case of emer—"

"—No, nothing is wrong, mother. Look, I actually wanted to ask you a question."

"Well, go on then. We're about to go out to dinner."

"...Mother, do you have Julie Roosevelt's number?"

Silence on the end of the line. "Absolutely!" You didn't need to be there with her to hear the smile in her voice. "What for?"

You swallowed. "I think I'll try to take her out tonight."

"Well! Darling, that's just wonderful!" You nodded into the receiver, not like she could see it. "Make sure to wear your nice shirt, we don't want to upset the Roosevelts! I hope you know, I'm proud of you for this, really." You almost mentioned getting accepted into Princeton. Almost. But you decided not to mention it. It wasn't like you wanted to think about it anyways.

From the far wall, you could see the painting of the woman with the blue eyes staring at you.

===+++===

The local mini golf was always busy, but Saturdays were absolutely the busiest. There were couples upon couples who had the exact same idea, and were wandering around with their hands together and beaming at one another like they were living in a rom-com in the real life.

And yet you stood there with your hand in Julie Roosevelt's, and a massive frown on your face. It wasn't one that you'd let Julie see— every time she glanced in your direction, you'd quickly replace it with your best smile, showing her your teeth— but it was one that you knew you wore when she turned away.

"Sorry about the late notice," you said. You dropped her hand and went to grab a putter from the front, handing it to her and then grabbing one for yourself.

"It's okay, I was wondering if you were ever going to talk to me again," Julie laughed, a bit awkward. You winced. It's not like you could be honest, and say that you didn't intend to. The truth was, that while Julie was a bit shallow, she was also a bit too nice to deserve this one-sided thing.

Of course, there was the hope that you grew the love your mother spoke of. Maybe it would hit you, and alleviate you from Nat, who seemed to haunt your thoughts even more now, that you were aware she had captured your heart.

"I was just busy, this past week," you shrugged. "It's kind of a big deal for the Yellowjackets, and both of the teams are practicing and stuff...so."

"Wow. I guess you really like the Yellowjackets then, huh?"

"Uh...something like that, yeah. It's a big deal." She hummed, then took her things out onto the first green.

You let her go, standing behind her and watching with a grin and the scorecard in your pocket. Mini golf was something you took pride in being good at. But, then, of course, Julie let the ball drop, took a second, and gently hit the ball around the bend with a near perfect curve, and right into the hole.

"Yay!" she cheered, jumping up and down in celebration.

"Wha—"

Julie put her hands on her hips with a teasing grin. "Captain of the golf team, remember?" You hadn't.

"Right..."

You played a terrible game, for the most part. You stood at the end of the second-to-last hole with the scorecard in your hand and a whole bunch of big numbers on your side of the table. Julie was beaming from ear to ear, though you weren't exactly sure why.

It had been pretty much silent, with the two of you failing over and over again to find an interesting thing to talk about. It wasn't the calm, pleasant silence like it was with... well, it didn't matter now. You filled in a four, two shots over the par, and made your way over to where Julie was crouching down, to get a better view of the final hole.

"Actually wait, there's a special way you have to play this one," you called out to her, and she turned to you with a puzzled expression.

"What do you mean?"

"It's kind of local tradition here," you shrugged. You weren't even sure if that was true, you just knew that it was what Nat had called it, when she taught you. "You have to swing really, really hard, and to win, you've gotta get it over the fence," you pointed, "and right into the back of that neighbourhood."

She blinked at you for a moment, and then Julie frowned, looking down to the ground. "That's mean, though. What if you hit someone's house? Or a window?"

"Bonus points," you shrugged. "I don't know, you can't really see where they go, once they're over the fence. It's fun."

Julie raised her eyebrows. "Don't you think it's a little immature? Why would I do that if I'm going to win for real?"

You opened your mouth to reply, then firmly closed it. "I guess you're right," you mumbled. It hadn't felt stupid when you suggested it, but Julie's disdain at the suggestion made you feel improper.

She did win, by a massive landslide, and you let her keep the scorecard with little protest. She was still beaming though, brightly at you like she had just had the best date of her life. Your stomach felt like it was tied up in a bunch of knots, but you smiled back at her nonetheless.

If love was something to be worked towards, you really hoped it would start working soon.

===+++===

You had only been home for about twenty minutes, when your phone started ringing. Off the hook. Over and over again. You knew who it was just from the ring, but that didn't mean you wanted to pick up.

After the disaster that was dropping Julie off at her house, you wanted to continue to staring at the ceiling. But after the sixth call back, it seemed Jackie wasn't giving up.

You picked the phone up with a frown, rolling over and smushing your chin into the bed. "Hello—"

"—OH MY GOD, YOU AND JULIE?!"

You groaned. "Jackie I dropped her off like thirty minutes ago, how do you already know about this?"

"So it's true?! You're dating?"

You sat up. "What? No, we just went on one date."

"Really? Cause Julie told Margie who told Randy who told Jeff, who told me that you kissed her and you're going out!"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "I didn't kiss her, she kissed me. And it wasn't even like an actual kiss, she like, pecked me, and then scrambled out of my car and up her driveway."

"Well, she's saying you're going steady."

"'Going steady?' The 40s called, they wanted their slang back."

"Ha ha," Jackie said back, and you could hear the eye roll. She went silent. "...I bet your mom is happy."

"Probably..."

"Are you happy? You're probably a shoe-in for prom court, especially since I'll be out of town. Your mom won't let you go to nationals, will she?"

"No. She'll want me and Julie to go to prom together."

"Well, I mean, at least you'll win, right? That's gotta be exciting?"

You looked over to your nightstand, where you had a polaroid of you and Nat that sat taped to the side. "Thrilled."

"(Y/n)? You okay, hubby?"

You took a sharp swallow. "Yeah, I'm fine. Julie's great."

"Right...," she paused again, "does Nat...does she know?"

"I don't think so... It's only been like, thirty minutes."

"She will soon, though. Monday."

"Yeah...I guess she will soon."

===+++===

Monday was terrible. It seemed Julie had taken the awkward attempt at kissing you as the sign that you were together. She was there at your car when you first arrived, grinning again while you and Lottie got your things for school out of the second row. Then, the moment you had locked your car, you were tugged along by a hand grabbing yours.

You didn't exactly have a good reason to be grossed out. Julie was beautiful, and if you had felt the same way for her, you would have been thrilled with the enthusiasm. Hell, if it were... well. So, you mostly let her drag you wherever she wanted.

There was about a week, to run for prom court. Your mother had promptly called you that morning to insist on prom, and insist on shopping for prom, when she returned home on Wednesday, from Monaco. It was all Julie would talk about, and you were starting to wonder how much of this was a political move for her too, rather than one of genuine interest in you.

You first saw Nat coming down one of the halls, and you hesitated a bit the moment you saw that she noticed you. Or, that she noticed you and Julie together. It was the walk of shame, frankly. You didn't belong to her, in any formal sense. But your heart did, and that was enough for it to hurt. Badly.

It seemed to hurt her too. She immediately frowned, tugging on Kevyn's sleeve and walking in the opposite direction. You wanted to run after her, but Julie had an iron grip on your hand and a smile so bright.

It was awkward enough at lunch, with Julie insisting to sit next to you and to bring her golf friends. A few of them were nice, and Jackie managed to chat them up well enough to make even more friends than before, but Lottie had a frown the entire time, and Shauna looked less than happy.

Nat wasn't staring at you at lunch anymore. It was a startling realisation, that you wanted her to be looking at you. If anything, you were looking more at her. You kept turning around, trying to seem like you were just scanning the cafeteria, but Nat was firmly looking down at her food, at the same table as always.

You felt like a runaway dog that had temporarily shrugged off its collar, trying to find home with a tail between its legs. Julie was nice, and smart, and talented. But she wasn't the one. Your one.

===+++===

"Hey, you ready?" you asked Lottie, finding her out in the hallway in front of the locker rooms. it was Friday, and you both had your soccer bags slung over your shoulder, and were about to head out to practice, but Lottie seemed transfixed on a poster on the wall. "Hey now, you've got nationals tomorrow, no distractions," you tried.

"Is she seriously trying to make it seem like you two are soulmates?" Lottie said with a grimace. It was one of the ones Julie had made in two days, and was now putting all over the school to really earn you both the win. There was a drawing of you and her on it, with a heart in the middle, and 'VOTE JULIE & (Y/N) FOR PROM COURT 1996.' It was an objectively good design, but Lottie didn't like Julie very much— or at least had started to hate her, the longer you and her were together.

"I think it's because she has a crush on you," Julie said once with a pout, after Lottie had been less than welcoming to her on a ride home.

"No she doesn't," you shook your head.

"She definitely does. You shouldn't hang out with her as much, or people will think you and her are a thing. I mean, I did at first."

The whole conversation had only made Lottie more and more annoyed with her, and that was saying a lot, with how Lottie was usually nice to most people.

"Come on," you said, gesturing with your head out towards the pitch. "Last practice before nationals."

Lottie still had a frown on her face, but she followed you out there with her arms crossed. It was still relatively early, only a few people were out. Coach Martinez's son Travis was up in the bleachers, watching, while you could see Trevor and Misty talking next to the water cooler and Jeremy and Mari passing a ball back and forth to each other.

"Hey (Y/n)," a voice called from behind you, and you could feel a similar annoyance to Lottie's washing over you. You turned to see Carter Avery, back from his suspension, with a cheeky smirk on his face. "Miss me?"

"Not even close," you scowled. He brushed past you and Lottie, pausing for a moment when he was directly in front of you staring down in an attempt at intimidation. He kept walking though, until he paused, right at the edge of the pitch.

"Oh, and (Y/n)?"

"What."

"I think I need to borrow some eggs. You got any for me?" Your eyes widened. "What about toilet paper, then?"

It was intended to create anger in you. You knew he wanted you to charge at him or something, or to scowl, but all you did was stand there, in a stunned silence. You had thought that Nat would do that. That Nat could do that to you. Of course it wasn't Nat. You felt stupid and you felt guilty, and you felt even worse that you couldn't do much about either of those things. You could try, though. And maybe that would be enough.

Lottie sent you a knowing look, but all you wanted to do was curl up into a ball and die. Maybe you could try to talk to her, after practice? It was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

The Yellowjackets' moods were infectious, and it was impossible to not have a great time, at that practice. Their emotions were high, along with their excitement, and you started to feel a little bit better, the more you ran and the more you felt the wind in your hair.

Of course, that's when everything decided to go wrong. A single slide tackle from Taissa, right into Allie's leg, and everyone was panicking and yelling. You could see the bone sticking out from it, and Misty was bolting in your direction, hovering over her and attempting to right it.

"Can I get two people to carry her?" She shouted at both teams, and you immediately raised your hand, stepping forwards while Allie began to cry. You didn't even see who was grabbing her other arm until you had made it into the locker room, and Allie was still crying with Misty following behind and a very clueless looking Coach Ben behind her.

You should've known, it was her. She was selfless like that, even though she'd rather die than admit it herself. And yet, there Nat was, on the other side of Allie, laying her down on one of the locker room benches and raising her leg up. Misty ushered you both out into the hall, and suddenly both you and Nat were regretting volunteering.

You had to wait until she came out, so you would be able to carry her to the front, where the ambulance could arrive to take her to hospital, but until then it just meant you and Nat were forced to stand there in awkward silence.

It stayed that way, until you tried to speak. "So...nationals, hu—"

"Don't even," Nat snapped, shutting you up. She was twitching a little bit, in discomfort, and you knew right now that if it were outside, or if she were to have her bag, she would be pulling out a cigarette.

"...I know it wasn't you who egged my house. It was Carter... I'm...sorry."

"Real genius, aren't you."

"Allegedly. Not in practice, apparently," you admitted, sliding to the tiled floor in wait. She eyed you cautiously, but did the same, sliding down.

"Man, if I had a nickel, for every time we've been in this hallway with a serious injury... I'd have, what, two nickels?" You hummed, leaning your head back against the wall.

"That's not a lot," Nat said, rolling her eyes.

"No," you nodded in agreement, "but it's weird that it happened twice."

She thought for a minute, then shrugged. "I guess." You both could hear the whistle being blown outside, to end the final scrimmage and indicate that it was time to circle up.

"Don't you want to go hear that? Y'know, for tomorrow?"

Nat shook her head. "I'd rather be here for Allie. Though she's kind of an asshole."

You snorted. "She's a total fucking bitch."

"...Just so you know, I really did have to leave, after Lottie's party... I, uh, kissed your forehead, before I left... I guess you couldn't feel it though. You were asleep."

You shook your head. "I didn't know that..."

"...Yeah... my dad was being an asshole... it was a whole thing." You knew it hurt more than she was saying, right now, and you so desperately wanted to scoot closer, like you would've before things had gotten so messed up. Back when you were on the cusp of happiness.

"I'm sorry, Nat."

She shrugged again, like it didn't hurt, but you knew all too well. "For what?"

You would've said for being scared. For being weak. For not realising sooner. Anything. But instead you were interrupted by the sound of shoes on the tile.

Of course, there Julie had to be. She took a single look at Nat who was covered in sweat and a bit red from practice, and grimaced, before coming up to you and standing right over you, expectantly.

"Is practice over?" she asked, checking her watch. "I finished my club meeting. We have to go dress shopping— I want you there to colour match— and I need you to drop Margie off at her house, cause I said you would yesterday."

You blinked. "I mean... It kind of is? I should probably stay a bit—" you looked to Nat to see what she would say, but she was already standing up and walking off, taking the not so secret hint that Julie was telling her to get lost.

Julie watched her go, scowling behind her back and then spinning to you the moment the door clicked shut behind her. "What did she want with you?" she asked.

"We were just talking, Allie needed help."

"Well she's no good. She's one of those kids, y'know." You narrowed your eyes, getting up to your feet and wiping your hands on your shorts.

"What are you talking about?"

Julie tilted her head to the side, like she was confused by your confusion. "You must not have a lot of them, around here, but we had them all OVER, in Massachusetts. The town bicycles. Everyone wants a ride, if you know what I mean."

It was your turn to cross your arms. "No the hell I do not, Julie."

"Oh come on," she said, throwing up her hands. "She's trailer trash, at best. The delusional kind who thinks we'd look at her, like, ever. I mean, what's her body count, like over a hundred?"

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you snapped at her, glowering.

"Okay, I know she's on the Yellowjackets, and she's clearly trying to get in your pants, but cmon. I'm your girlfriend, we can laugh about this kind of—"

"No, the hell you aren't. You're not my girlfriend, Julie, and you barely ever fucking were. That girl you just insulted is the best fucking person I know. She's selfless, she's kind, she makes me laugh—"

"Well then go sleep with her then!" Julie yelled, stomping her foot.

"Y'know what, I already have! And I fucking love her. So there!" And you turned right around and stomped back out onto the pitch.

===+++===

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you rolled your eyes, trudging down the stairs and calling out into the foyer. It wasn’t like whoever it was would actually be able to hear you, through the thickness of your door, if anything it was more to air your grievance with having to get up so fucking late. Your mom was once more distraught, now that you had kept the "perfect" girl for a single week and then promptly dumped her. Another vacation was in order.

Rain was still pounding on the roof from above, and it filled the emptiness of your house with a faint white noise, that was immediately shattered by the person pressing the button again. You rolled your eyes, deciding to walk even slower to the door out of nothing but spite.

When you actually opened the door, though, you had to blink a couple times, seeing a figure retreating already, down your drive. However long you had took had made them rethink why they were here, and you would've been all too happy to let the door close. That was, until you narrowed your eyes into the rain, just barely making out the shape of a familiar leather jacket.

"Nat?" You called into the storm, loud enough that there was no way she couldn't have heard you. You crossed your arms, thinking about how she had been earlier that day. "I know it's you, Natalie. Why the fuck are you here? You have nationals tomorrow."

She stopped in her tracks, just standing in it. She gently turned, shoulders rising and falling and it was clear she was breathing heavily. Her mascara was running in massive streaks down her face and dripping in small, grey droplets, and her eyes were sensitive and red, as if she had been crying and rubbed them raw. You swallowed what felt like a lump in your throat.

"This— all of this, with you— I— I can't," she stumbled, looking like a sad, wet dog in the rain.

"What?" you furrowed your eyebrows at her, walking out further onto your large, covered doorstep.

"I can't see you with her, (Y/n), I— I just can't."

"With Julie?"

Natalie threw up her arms in frustration. "Yes, Julie. I know she's perfect, or whatever, but— I— you can't be with her—"

"—Nat," you tried, stepping forward again.

"—Because I love you," she continued. You stopped in your tracks. It felt as if the air had been sucked right out of your lungs, even in the freshness brought by the storm. "I know we argue," her voice shook, "and I know we fight, and I know I smoke, and I curse, and I get bad grades, and my dad's a shithead, and I'm kind of an asshole sometimes— but I fucking love you, (Y/n). You.... I—"

"—Shut up," you said, shaking your head and rushing forward, out into the pouring storm. You collided with her, cupping her face in your cheeks and kissing her like the world would end in ten minutes. It would have, if you hadn't done it, and you had no idea how you had survived so long without doing it.

You kissed her once, and then you kissed her again, and then, when she was crying harder, and you were crying too, and she was holding onto your arms like you would fall away, you kissed her forehead, and held her tight in a hug.

"I'm selfish, and I'm a mess, and I'm never good enough for my stupid fucking parents," you said, over the rain and just for Nat, "and I don't realise that I hurt people 'cause that's not what my family does, and for that, I'm really, really fucking sorry."

She nodded in her tears, looking up at you as you both got rained on together. "But, I agree," you said, voice shaking, "we're not casual. I'm really, really fucking sorry, but I also really, really fucking love you, Nat. And I'm sorry I was too scared and too stupid, and," you raised your voice, as if to the sky, "I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING GO TO PRINCETON—" this time it was Nat who shut you up.

It was another kiss, but it was far more gentle than the first. It was a gentle press, and it took your breath away. When you pulled apart, you let your forehead fall against Natalie's. Even though the droplets were cold, you felt so warm.

After what felt like forever, but still wasn't long enough, Nat murmured to you, "should we go inside?" She still smelled like cigarettes and her perfume, just as she had in her trailer, and you intended to let the scent linger.

You shook your head. "Just stay out here a little longer with me. Please? Just let time pass."

She nodded, then smirked as she looked past you at the car on your driveway. "Fuckin' rich people."

===+++===

AAAAAND THAT'S CASUAL BABYYYYY! Finished at like 2 am. anyways, i'm tired and a little bit sleepy

[soleilnewspaper]

Chocolate and wet dog fur

series masterlist

Summary: You're having a terrible start to the morning and then you get caught staring at two of the prettiest boys in school. Surely it could't get worse. Oh but it those. While learning about Amortentia, your feelings are revealed to the whole class.

Pairing: poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

Warnings: friendly teasing, slight angst, being in love with two people, feeling alone, feeling scared and/or panicked

Word count: roughly 2k

AN: This is my first time posting a piece of my work, so I apologise if it isn't the greatest. However, if you do enjoy it, please reblog or like it. Also, feedback is always appreciated and welcome!!! Thank you taking the time to read this. I truly hope you have a wonderful day. 💗💗💗

You had always prided yourself on being early, exceptionally early at that. Yet with each minute that passed the image you had seamlessly perfected for the world to see threatened to slip through your fingers.

Firstly your magically enchanted alarm didn’t go off. If that was not already bad enough, your roommate took over forty five minutes in the bathroom this morning, leaving you with barely any time to shower and brush your teeth, let alone try make yourself somewhat presentable. Thank god for magic, and for the knowledge of enchantments from one beautiful blonde Ravenclaw who taught you all her secrets. Although she would never dare admit it.

After what felt like nothing short of an eternity, you managed to make it in time to the great hall before breakfast ended.

Your glaze wondered around the room for a few moments before you spotted your friends in the midst of a sea of green and sliver. A soft smile made its way to your lips and you began quickening your pace. There towards the end of hall on the left side where your friends in the midst of conversation. Your bag hit the wooden table with a soft thud, and you took your seat at the table. The chosen table for the group of friends on this particular morning.

You then let out a sigh that you were not quite sure how long you had been holding in for. It felt comforting to be in the presence of your friends. Earring you an arched eyebrow from the younger Black brother across the table.

“What’s the matter, dearie?” Pandora asked, while absently playing with the petals of a flower from the gardens.

“My alarm didn’t go off, and my roommate did gods know what in our bathroom all morning. Then to top it all off, I got caught in a game of exploding snap some first years were playing.” You grumbled in response playing around with the luke-warm toast on your plate.

“How does a witch like yourself, not have an enchanted alarm”. Regulus deadpanned shifting closer to look at you.

“Sod off.” You muttered in response dishing up yourself a plate.

“Don’t listen to him treasure, you look wonderful as always.” Barty added while draping an arm around his boyfriend.

The group of Slytherins and Ravenclaws quickly fell back into their conversation as you finally allowed yourself to take a bite of your breakfast. Your glaze traces the room, before subconsciously falling on two of the prettiest boys in school.

They both sat over at one of the Gryffindor tables, their laughter bellowed throughout the hall. Remus’s lanky frame was hunched over severally decreasing his height. His amber brown eyes were trained on his friends near him. If you look closely, you might just spot the golden flicks on his eyes. Or the way his honey golden brown hair falls in perfect curls around his face. In between laughs he took bites of his peanut butter jam toast. The laughing caused by James dramatic yet failed attempt at trying to flirt with Lily Evans earlier this morning.

You moved your glaze to the slightly shorter boy next to Remus. Oh was he a sight for sore eyes. Non other than Sirius Black, who most recently you cannot stand. Yet he was still pretty.

Strands of black hair falling around his sliver eyes. Dangling around his neck, a tie hang, a truly poorly done one at that. It is not as if he doesn’t know how to do a tie, he’d probably been taught before he could walk. No, this was purposefully done. At least in your mind it was.

The red and gold robes, unmistakably gryffidor draped over his white button down shirt. Multiple rings adorned his long fingers, which were currently being used to try and steal food from his best friend. None other than James Potter. Who was in ‘mother hen’ mode as the boys called it.

You watched the interaction play out between the four boys before returning her glaze to admire her favourite two. Your eyes flick back and forth between them.

There was-

“Are you done staring at my brother yet?” Regulus said coldly with hint of amusement. Of course only for those who had the ability to understand the boy’s affection could detect it.

You snapped her head around at a lightning speed. Causing the muscles in your neck to tingle slightly at the sudden movement. The blood rushing to your checks leaving a rosy tiny. You could feel eyes of your three friends staring down into your soul.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Reg.” You quickly responded while shrugging your shoulders in attempt to act nonchalant, but you were not fooling anyone.

“You sure there isn’t anything you want to tell us?” Pandora asked, with a welcoming smile that lit up her eyes. Almost tempting you to blurt out your feelings for the two Gryffindor boys.

“I don’t know, treasure you-“

“I was simply observing, is all.” You interrupted before bringing the now cold French toast to your lips.

“We would not judge you if it was more than that.” Pandora reached across the table to gently squeeze your hand, offering a warm smile.

You returned the smile and hoped the conversation would end. A naive thought it was indeed.

“Treasure,” Barty started, as a grin spears across his face which put the Cheshire Cat to shame. “You really can’t be desperate you’re thinking of snogging one of those idiots.”

Your face turned an awful shade of red, matching that of the gyffidor robes. “I-I…you-you…you’re delusional.” You stumbled through your words trying to regain composure.

A roar of laughter escaped Barty. One hand on his heart and the other found its way to her check. “Relax, treasure, only teasing.” He gave your rosy check a few affectionate pats before his hand found Evan’s again.

Pandora shook her head in disapproval to which he only grinned in response. Regulus remained silent throughout it all not uttering a single sound.

A frustrated sign escaped your lips, and you found yourself throwing your legs over the bench to stand up. Opening and closing your mouth several times, but alas to no avail. The four friends stared at you, again.

“I have potions class.” You announced, much to quietly for your liking, gripping onto the leather strap of your bag. “Mr Slughorn will give me detention if I’m late again.”

A chorus of goodbyes were heard as you disappeared down the corridor.

Potions was not exactly your favourite class. You would much prefer the likes of herbology or divination but on the plus side at least you got to see the prettiest boys in school. Not that you would ever admit how pretty you thought they were.

Countless times before, you had gone through all the possibilities and always came to the same conclusion: Sirius is Regulus brother, secondly Sirius and Remus are clearly happy together and you didn’t have the right to come between them. Oh and there was the fact that as much as you thought the older brother was gorgeous, you hated him deep within your soul.

His whole personality is unappealing and the his ego needed a room for itself. Yet you could not deny how you found yourself staring into his eyes when he wasn’t looking. They have that same glow of a night sky.

Everything about him, screams gryffidor, and he is always pulling pranks on you. He truly was the embodiment of his house. Unlike you, who was sorted into Slytherin but almost everyone believes Ravenclaw suits you better.

It was easier if you hated him, far better be that than fall for your friend’s estranged older brother. Your plan worked for the most part. Granted it helped how Sirius seamed to hate you as much as you tried to hate him.

Remus, on the other hand, you required a heavy amount of distancing from in order to keep your feelings in check.

Some might say, memorising his entire class schedule to ensure avoidance is crazy. You, however, prefers to think of it as tactical genius.

The walls of the classroom were lined with pickled animals in glass jars. The winter day was particularly cold and you could practically see your own breath appearing in the chilling air.

“Can anyone tell me what Amortentia is?” The voice of professor Slughorn drew you out of her thoughts, forcing you to focus on the topic at hand. Multiple students hands went up from but no one was faster than Lily Evans. You always thought she seamed kind, but did not like stepping outside of your comfort zone. Resulting in you never talking to her outside of class or the library.

“Amortentia is a love potion which can causes the drinker to develop an infatuation or obsession.”

“Very well done, Miss Evans.” Slughorn smiled at her answer and nodded before continuing. “Now, does anyone else want to add onto Miss Evan’s answer?”

You bit your bottom lip, you knew the answer, and your mother did ask you to try be more active in class this year. Before you could even realise what you were doing, you had been called upon.

“It has a different aroma for everyone who smells it, based on what you find most appealing or attractive.” You stated, hiding your hands underneath the table so no one could catch onto your nerves.

“Care to share what you smell then?” The pure calmness in Slughorn’s tone sent a shiver down your spine. He stepped closer to you which only seamed to make you more nervous. Feeling the eyes of all her fellow students on you. With Gyffidor and Slytherin fifth year students staring, waiting to hear what she finds most attractive, was difficult to say the least.

Slowly you moved to position yourself in front of the cauldron. Few students stepping out of your way. The new found attention on you making you cringe. The aroma filled your nostrils and instantly put you in a sense of tranquility. The mere scent of it was mouth watering.

“I do not have all day, Miss”. Your eyes snapped open and offered a small apology to Slugorn before responding.

“I smell chocolate, smudged bits that you find inside the wrapper of a chocolate bar, a warm fresh cup of tea, and old books…” Your voice trailed off, as you fell more and fall in love with the scent by the second.

Meanwhile, Sirius tightened his jaw quickly recognising the scent as his boyfriend’s. You immediately picked up on it, but refrained from saying anything.

“There’s something else, almost like a second scent.” Your eyes opened harshly, and you found yourself looking at the Professor who seamed to be quite intrigued by this new development.

“What ever do you mean?” The professor asked, it was not very often someone smelled two different kind of scents in the aroma.

“The second one is different to the first, leather, with what I think might be wet dog…fur?” Your voice came out more like a question at the end than you’d like. James snapped his head to face Sirius, who glanced at Remus in response who appeared just as confused.

“And, um, there’s cologne, a deep, musky smell, the one-“ You cut herself off before you could let out the words which would undoubtedly tell everyone who you had smelled. Sirius Black.

Feeling all eyes on you, and suddenly feeling alone without any of your friends in the room. You hastily you grabbed your bag and rushed out the classroom. You didn’t stop running until you reached your dorm room.

The door pressed against your green robe, providing some stability. You place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart pounding against your hand. You took a few deep breaths to try calm your increasing nerves. Your breathing remained uneven and every so often it hitched ever so slightly. You ran a hand through your hair, letting your body slowly crumble to the floor. Pulling your knees to your chest, and wrapping your arms around them. Eventually you felt your muscles relax, and breathing return to normal.

Your fingers played with the tattered ends of the carpet beneath you. Rubbing small circles on the material in soft soothing motions.

God, were you in for it now.

[doc-pickles]

waking up in vegas | matthew tkachuk x hughes!sister (pt. 7)

series masterlist

summary: you work through some doubts before Matthew comes home from his road trip

warnings: none :)

a/n: i knooooooow you all wanted smut in this chapter and I promise you’ll get more but not today. I hope you enjoy!!

xoxo

nina

You’re in overthinking mode.

It’s been nine days since your first phone call with Matthew. And every night since then you’d both enjoyed your nightly phone calls a little more than usual. The way his voice is able to bring you to orgasm is driving you insane and you can’t wait for him to be home tomorrow.

And that’s where the overthinking comes in.

If you and Matthew hook up (which you most definitely will) what does that mean for your relationship? Sure you’re married and having a baby and living together but… All of those things seem separate rather than conjoined as they would be for a couple.

Yes, you’re married but it was an accident that you were still trying to correct.

Yes, you’re having a baby but it’s the product of a lot of tequila and bad choices.

Yes, you’re living together but it’s only because of said baby.

If you sleep together again, will it complicate your… whatever you had with Matthew? You don’t think it can constitute as a relationship, but just calling it a friendship seems like a disservice. You and Matthew had a long history together that would now be intertwined forever with your child. And even though you didn’t know what that would lead to you were excited to see where the two of you ended.

“We have plenty of time to worry before Daddy comes home tomorrow,” you smile down at your baby bump. It seems to have popped out lately plus with the way the baby had been kicking you nonstop it was hard to ignore the little one growing beneath your skin.

To keep yourself occupied you clean the house for the first half of the day before you decide to make cookies. They’re a chocolate and peanut butter recipe that Matthew used to beg you to make during the summers when your families would be at the lake house together. More than once the two of you had snuck out to eat a plate of them on the back porch together.

The smell of the cookies brought back some of your favorite memories of your youth with Matthew and all your siblings. Hockey games, late night ice cream runs, lake house shenanigans, countless holidays, and shared vacations all flash in your mind as you stand in the kitchen scrubbing dishes. Your situation wasn’t ideal, being pregnant and married to someone you weren’t really in a relationship with. But you realize with a start that you love Matthew, you have for years. And while that love might not be romantic, you knew it would be more than enough to carry your unconventional little family through whatever came your way.

You’ve just pulled the cookies out of the oven when you hear the security alarm beep before the front door opens. You check the time with a frown. It’s a little after 6 PM and Matthew isn’t due home until early tomorrow. It couldn’t be him coming into the house, but you weren’t sure who else it could be.

And then you hear him call out your name.

“Baby, where are you?” Matthew calls out from the front room. His voice is laced with a level of need and desperation that you feel deep in your soul too.

You round the corner, freezing as you see Matthew standing in the entryway. It only takes a second of the two of you staring at each other before he’s sporting a wide smile. Overcome with emotion you waste no time in covering the few feet between you and launching yourself into Matthew’s arms.

“I missed you so much,” you manage to say as his hands caress your back. “I thought you were back tomorrow?”

Pulling back you meet Matthew’s eyes, noticing the wide grin on his face, “I caught an earlier flight. I couldn’t stay away any longer.”

Every negative thought and worry you’d had earlier in the day slips from your mind as Matthew holds you. Without a doubt you know that no matter what happens between the two of you that he’d never let you down. The boy who’d begged you for cookies and the man who caught an early flight just to hold you a few hours earlier would never hurt you.

You lean into Matthew’s gentle touch, brushing your lips against his as you share a soft and gentle kiss that melts all your worries away. When you pull apart he’s wearing that little smirk you love so much, holding you close to his body as if you’ll slip away if he doesn’t hold tight enough, “Matty I’m not going anywhere, you don’t have to hold me so tight.”

“I’m worried if I let go this will all be a dream and I’ll wake up in a hotel room lonely and missing you all over again,” he mutters against your neck. “Please tell me this is real, that I’m not imagining things here baby.”

You lean back a little bit to meet Matthew’s eyes, “It’s real. So fucking real. I’m here Matty, right in front of you and I’m not leaving.”

The two of you get lost in another kiss, simply holding each other and being content with each others presence. When you finally pull back Matthew furrows his brows, “Did you bake something?”

“I made my chocolate peanut butter cookies,” you laugh as Matthew releases his hold on you to bolt toward the kitchen. When you follow him he already has a cookie in his mouth, a delighted groan leaving his lips. “Good?”

“If I wasn’t already married to you I would propose right now,” Matthew moans out as he takes another bite. “And they’re still warm? Fucking hell woman.”

A deep laugh bubbles out of you as Matthew finishes his cookie and wraps you in his arms again. This time his hand comes down to cup your ever growing bump, “How’s Baby T?”

“Kicking me all the damn time,” you huff. As if to prove a point the baby kicks against Matthew’s hand. “Must get that from you.”

Matthew laughs and kisses you again, this time squeezing you tightly as he holds you close. He pulls back with a smirk and you can’t help the blush that instantly covers your cheeks.

“Why’re you blushing baby,” Matthew runs his fingers across your darkened cheeks. “You miss me?”

“So much,” you breathe out as you lean towards each other, foreheads touching. “Matty?”

“Mhmm?”

“Take me to bed.”

[steviesbicrisis]

Steddie - Percy Jackson AU

AKA the struggle of finding the perfect Valentines gift for a son of Aphrodite

Eddie keeps staring at the flowers on display, feeling more pathetic by the minute. He hears a voice inside his head telling him he should make the flowers himself, but he shakes that voice away fast, it sounded way too similar to his dad's. Pretty arrangements were never his forte anyways, and he needs the prettiest one.

What kind of flowers should he buy? is even flowers a good idea? should he go for chocolates? can he be more basic than this? probably not, but tomorrow will be valentine's day and he has no other ideas.

He snatches the bouquet with the most pink and yellow flowers, Steve always wears soft sweaters in either one of those colors so he thinks it should be fine.

💐🍫🎸💌

An hour later, Eddie stomps into another store, mumbling to himself. They aren't even dating yet, so why is this so complicated?

Why, of all the people at Half-Blood Camp, did he have to fall for a son of Aphrodite? how do you even attempt to romance someone who had the Goddess of Love as a mother?

He taps his fingers nervously on the glass counter, there are way too many options and he doesn't even know where to start.

He goes back to his cabin with a cheesy heart-shaped box filled with peanut butter chocolates - Steve would never admit it but he goes crazy for peanut butter - and places them next to the flowers.

🍫🎸💌 💐

Right before dinner and after hours of overthinking, the chocolate idea feels too lame in Eddie's eyes.

"So is this for Steve?" Robin asks. He's pretty sure she's smirking but they're talking just outside of her cabin, Apollo's, and the sunlight is just at the right place to make it shine too much for his poor eyes. He used to be jealous of Robin for having such a cool dad, but lately he feels much more content being stuck with Dionysus.

"It is not!" he replies, too quickly to be believable.

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me" she pushes him inside the cabin, then picks up a piece of paper and a binder.

"This is a list of Steve's favorite songs. I know you don't like any of these so" she gestures at the binder "I've got all of my music sheets in here. No need to thank me, Munson. But remember to give them back, I have a great aim and your cabin is a weapon range from here."

Eddie passes most of the night learning Against all Odds by Phill Collins while looking nervously at Robin's cabin through his window.

🎸💌 💐 🍫

It's Valentine's day, and Eddie is absolutely fucked. The flowers aren't pretty enough, the chocolate is lame, the song is overused and he's out of ideas.

He finds himself at Athena's cabin with only a few hours of sleep and right before breakfast.

He waits for Nancy to get out.

"This is about Steve" she states, not even questioning it, and Eddie doesn't have the energy to deny it.

"I'm running out of ideas Nancy! this was supposed to be a casual thing, no pressure! but then I mentioned it to him and he got so excited about receiving something from me and now there's no casualty anymore! There's anxiety, and he's surrounded by romance on a daily basis how am I supposed to compete with that?" Nancy listens to his rant quietly, not showing any particular reaction.

"So, how can I help?" it might seem like a cold response but that's exactly what Eddie needs.

He gets out an hour later, his stomach grumbling, his body pleading for a few hours of sleep, but with a poem about Steve's sun-kissed freckles and soft hair. Nancy wasn't much help with that, but she re-read it and made sure there weren't any mistakes and that his writing was clear enough.

"Eddie wait" Nancy calls for him as he's going through the door "you know how it is on valentine's day... Steve is one of the most admired kids in Aphrodite's cabin. So, whatever happens, don't let it get into your head okay? he likes you a lot."

💌💐🍫🎸

It gets into Eddie's head. Big time.

He was never confident about the gifts he prepared but he thought at least one of them would've been fine.

That is until the parade of Steve's presents begins.

After the tenth bouquet of flowers he receives, Eddie stops counting.

At breakfast and lunch, he has a pile of chocolates on his table and it stands up even amongst his brothers and sisters who had received chocolates as well, just not as many.

The gift Eddie is most confident about, the poem, has to be ruled out as well since with most of the bouquets and chocolates Steve has also received white envelopes with his name written on them, in much nicer handwriting than Eddie's.

The song, Eddie's weakest gift since it isn’t his cup of tea and he had to learn it overnight, is the only thing he has left.

Despite it all, he gets ready for it. He doesn’t like the song but he loves a big gesture, so he goes to his cabin in the afternoon to grab his guitar, determined to surprise Steve with a romantic serenade.

When he comes back, he notices a big fuss around the amphitheater. Curious, he gets close just in time to see one of Robin's brothers guiding Steve at the arena's center, a guitar in his left hand.

Eddie rushes away, he doesn’t need to see anything more.

🪨🪨🪨🪨

His gloomy state guides him to the lake's shore. It's cold but quiet, plus Eddie's favorite pastime consists in picking up rocks that catch his attention.

He throws a couple of them in the lake, kicks a few big ones, then sighs. A part of him hopes Steve is so busy with all his admirers that he forgets about him and his promise.

He crouches to have a better look at the smaller rocks at his feet. One catches his eye almost immediately: it's round, smooth, and mostly dark brown with gold cracks. Eddie cannot explain it, but it makes him think of Steve.

He's getting up with the small stone in his hand when he hears footsteps behind him.

"I knew I would find you here" Steve's smile makes Eddie's knees go weak, even at that distance.

He stops once he's standing next to him, both facing the lake.

"I guess you know me pretty well" Eddie points out, his eyes fixed on the water.

"Oh, I do" Steve smirks, confidence radiating from every fiber of his being. Eddie supposes that anyone would feel great about themselves after a day spent accepting any sort of gifts.

"So, I came to collect something" Steve breaks the silence, sounding less confident than before, more nervous if anything.

Eddie can't tell him about all the lame gifts he got for him, let alone go back to his cabin and grab one of them.

Before he can think too much about it, he takes one of Steve's hands and drops the rock on his palm "Here, happy valentine's day".

He realizes what he has done only after Steve's hand closes into a fist around the gift.

Eddie's eyes grow wide, his gaze flickers nervously between the hand that was holding the stone - the right one which he mentally renames as the traitor - and Steve's.

He tries to come up with excuses, but no sound comes out of his mouth.

Finally, as he's ready to jump in front of him and say something like "ahah this is a joke! I got you", Eddie looks at him.

Steve is radiant.

Eddie has rarely seen him smile like this, never at a stupid rock he had randomly collected. He is pretty sure this isn't the first rock he has ever given him, either. It's just a thing that Eddie does.

But Steve is beaming at the rock in his hand like Eddie has given him a piece of jewelry or a gemstone.

"Thank you Eddie, I love it" only then Eddie notices that he is also blushing.

"Are you sure? It's just a rock" he replies, nervously.

Steve raises an eyebrow at the question "yeah, but it's very pretty. And you love rocks."

"Oh," Eddie says, dumbly.

He finally understands why Steve was so excited by the idea of Eddie gifting him something for Valentine's day, why both Robin and Nancy told him he was stressing too much over something Steve would've liked anyways.

Steve would've loved anything as long as it came from Eddie.

"Now I feel bad," Steve speaks, oblivious to Eddie's internal epiphany "my gift is very lame compared to yours."

"You got me something, pretty boy?" he leans closer to him, into Steve's personal space. He smirks when he notices Steve's blush reaching his ears.

"Of course I did" he huffs "but you have to close your eyes if you want it" Steve looks away as he says it, clearly embarrassed.

He'd love to tease him about his red face but he decides to play nice and close his eyes.

He flinches when he feels Steve's lips on his. He slides his arms on his shoulders and around his neck, to make sure Steve doesn't misinterpret his surprised reaction. Steve puts his arms around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer.

Someone might say that gifting a kiss for Valentine's Day is very lame but Eddie realizes that, as long as it came from Steve, he would've loved it anyways.

I wasn’t planning to write anything but then I had some free time and I got inspired! Please forgive me if I wrote something unrealistic for the Percy Jackson world but I’ve read the books years ago, I don’t remember much!Happy Valentine’s Day to everyone but especially to my mutuals, I hope you have an amazing day 💘

[bimoonphases]

@wolfstarmicrofic March 3 – prompt 3: Obscuro – word count 523

Obscuro - Conjures a blindfold

“Obscuro!”

Sirius watched with a grin as the magically conjured blindfold wrapped itself around Remus’s face while he was still entering the dorm.

“Padfoot, what…”

“Ssh, it’s fine, don’t worry,” Sirius immediately said, putting a reassuring hand on his boyfriend’s arm while he locked the door behind him. “Come with me.”

“What are you doing?” Remus’s voice was amused now.

“Well, I noticed you didn’t have your usual triple serving of dessert at dinner tonight, my darling,” Sirius guided Remus to his bed and made him sit down. “So I prepared a little something.”

“Why the blindfold though?”

“Patience, my dearest, patience.”

Sirius sat down too, taking the time to place a couple of the pillows behind Remus before uncovering the trays.

“I wanted to play a little game,” he said to the raised eyebrow peeking over Remus’s blindfold. “Do you trust me?”

“I’m not sure right now.”

“Come on Moony,” Sirius pouted. “Do you trust me?”

Remus chuckled, then a fond smile formed on his lips.

“With my life, my love,” he said softly.

Sirius felt his cheeks turn pink like every time Remus said something like that and he picked a piece of toast from the first tray.

“Good. Now, I just want you to guess what food I’m giving you. Easy enough, right?” he got closer, sitting now right in front of Remus. “Open up.”

Remus did as he was told and chewed, before grinning.

“That’s easy enough: peanut butter toast. The crunchy variety.”

“Very good, Moony. What about this?”

“Effie’s cherry jam. Last summer’s batch.”

“Impressive. This?”

“Cadbury Creme Egg.”

“Dammit, I thought that one would be harder.”

“For you, maybe,” Remus laughed. “I grew up in a Muggle village, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah. This one?”

“Oh, this… This is Italian gianduja chocolate! Where did you even get it?”

“Monty’s last work trip to Turin,” Sirius replied proudly. “And what about this?”

He watched Remus bite into it, hesitatingly at first, then with a half smile once he recognised the texture.

“Chocolate-covered strawberry,” Remus nodded. “Wow.”

Sirius had still the second half of the strawberry in his hand but he was too distracted watching a drop of juice escape Remus’s lips and run down his chin. He swallowed.

“What’s next?”

Sirius looked down at the trays, his train of thought now lost. He passed the halved strawberry on his lips before leaning towards Remus.

“This?” he whispered before brushing his lips against his.

There was a sharp intake of breath before Remus leaned back into the kiss. Sirius dropped the strawberry and clambered in his boyfriend’s lap, hands reaching up to get rid of the blindfold.

“Curtains…” Remus breathed between kisses. “The others might come in.”

“Nah,” Sirius ran his hands in Remus’s hair. “Asked for a favour. The girls agreed to let them sleep in their dorm tonight.”

“The girls?” Remus broke the kiss to lean back and stare at Sirius. “You know that boys can’t climb the stairs to the girls’ dorm.”

Sirius laughed, letting his hands frame Remus’s face.

“You really thought such a stupid spell would stop the Marauders?” he whispered before melting in another kiss.

[aairadaebak]

Introduction to My Au David and His Bride

I know most people know about @ghoulgeousimmaculate and @misslavenderlady Au and their boys' wives. I love their stories, which then inspired me to start my own Au! I wanted to make a story with a slightly traditional route because I want to be able to represent women from my culture as it is a beautiful culture and I would want to see how the boys go about it. I also will be making the wives here either Muslim (people who follow the Islamic path) or whatever religion you all believe the others would be.

_This occurs in Modern times, with cell phones, tablets, etc. and Michael had joined the boys willingly, even after seeing how monstrous they can be. He joined them the day (well night hehe) of the bonfire and slaughtered the few surfer Nazis that tried to escape.

-The boys and Michael first met Mahnoor (the woman in the picture) on the street when they walked past a small wedding hall and decided to crash it for free food. David felt a strong hand smack him on his shoulder and turned to see this beautiful woman staring at him with disdain. David claimed he had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life and instantly turned on his charm to try to win her over. Just between us, it did not work because she instantly kicked them out of the party by herself.

-The boys instantly fell for her and David could not let her get away! For a few weeks, David began to... "admire from afar" (aka stalk) the lovely lady, slowly realizing she is... soft and caring. He had witnessed her help out the communities around her, giving a lot of her paycheck to orphanages and homeless shelters, and she always had a smile on her face. Most people would assume that because she is like this, her home life must be horrible, but she has an even closer bond with her family than most would. She loved her parents and her 2 younger sibling as they loved her just as much. David felt... a bit jealous seeing how close her family was but nonetheless, he wanted her even more so time to take action!

- He first let himself be known where she worked, a small coffee shop where she was a baker. His go to order was a black coffee and some toffee cake that used to bake. See, David is not into sweet treats, but the cake was so delicious, he fell for her even more. Mahnoor, even though despised him in the beginning, felt herself all flustered and a little happy that he liked her cake as he kept coming back for more. The boys had started to come in slowly to the coffee shop for their own little treats; Marko and his love for hot chocolate pudding, Paul and his favorite chocolate brownies (though a bit upset for the lack of weed in them), Dwayne and his desire for the peanut butter and chocolate cheesecake, and Michael with the classic coffee crunch tres leches cake.

-Seeing the boys devour her desserts every other day, Mahnoor felt proud of her food and started to come out more from the back and just talk with them, get to know them a little more but she did get drawn to David more. She felt like David and her had the same thinking, since they are the eldest of their family and had more responsibilities than most. She had slowly gotten to know him more after work, usually hanging in the park or just simply walking to her house before her curfew hit. David would never admit it out loud but he really truly felt heard when he was around her and that melted his cold, undead heart. Sadly... something traumatic had to happen for him to finally and truly reveal what he and his boys are.

-Mahnoor was closing up for the night when a bunch of men were harassing her across the street. She usually ignores them as they have been there from the start of her opening of the shop but they have been getting more bold as they quickly cross the street and start to follow her, getting more inappropriate by the second. Mahnoor tried to quickly escape but was grabbed by her shirt and was tugged back by the group. They kept pushing her around, pulling on her shirt to try to rip it off as she screamed for help from somebody, until she saw 5 pairs of glowing yellow eyes in the alleyway. The... creatures moved so fast, ripping the men off of her as she heard screams of pain, the gushing of blood, and manic laughter from... the creatures that sound.. so much like the people she grew to love as she shut her eyes in fear. Once the screaming was gone, Mahnoor slowly opened her eyes to see the man she loves, his face morphed into a nasty snarl, his teeth and mouth covered in blood and his glowing yellow eyes. She gasped in fear when she slowly looked behind him to notice the boys... also covered in blood and have the same damn eyes.

-David did not know what to do, he wanted to explain to her before who he was and what kind of... creature they all were but the timing was never right! He did not know what to say to comfort her because... he never had to worry about some girl's feelings but... his heart aches for her. The boys, bless them, tried to deescalate the situation as much as they could, but... Mahnoor simply backed away and ran off home before they could even try to comfort her. David... let her run, not simply because he did not want to terrify her.... he himself was so terrified of seeing or hearing what she had thought of him.

-It had been several weeks since the incident and Mahnoor... well her heart was aching for someone she has not seen since the bloody mess. He has not come in to the coffee shop but his boys have... but only to get what they wanted and quickly leave. Even when they never asked for it, she always packed a small toffee cake for him... She felt hurt but she ached for him to come back... she wanted to see him yet was still terrified of the face she saw that night. That night, after closing the store up, she had gone to the Mosque and prayed for him, prayed to god asking if she should give him the chance, if he was truly the one for him. That night, she had gotten her answer when she left the mosque to see him in the flesh on his stupid bike he drives around town.

-He did not know what to say when her saw her, but he felt like he didn't have to for when she walked over to him, she hugged him oh so tightly. She called him a stupid demon for leaving her like that for which he quickly corrected her by saying he was a vampire, not demon. She smacked his chest when she pulled back before holding his hand, squeezing it a little as she told him that she did not care what he was... it would not stop her from loving him. David wanted to sweep and kiss her but he knew because she is a Muslim girl, he had to wait for that occasion so he kissed her forehead and whispered an I love you too.

[albatmobile]

romance and return policies pt. 3

part three of this ask!

[1] [2] [3] next: [4] [5] [6] || ao3

𓅪 Rated: M | TW: attempted SA | 2.6k includes: alternate universe no powers, modern au, eventual polyamory, eventual relationships, eventual smut, gamestop au

𓅪 established roy harper x koriand'r eventual: jason todd x reader, Roy Harper x reader, koriand'r x reader endgame: Jason Todd x reader x Roy Harper x koriand'r

“Table two,” your coworker calls your name from the counter and you sigh.

You’ve been on break for barely three minutes, have just fucking finished peeing after holding it during the entirety of the evil Sunday lunch/dinner, dunch, whatever, rush. God forbid you get to read a page or two of your latest fixation- but no.

Sunday’s a cruel mistress.

Nay, Pam’s Diner is the real cruelty with all the last-minute doubles forced on you, but at least it's money.

Your bloated feet quickly remember the pained pressure you’d forgotten in your brief moment of sitting within seconds of standing again. Your usual strong gate is reduced to a warbled rhythm as your feet protest each contact with the tile below.

You sigh again when you see your table, though in relief. Two redheads and a skunk-stripe.

“Hey!”

Your pain is forgotten as you sidle up to where Jay, Roy and Kori are seated in the corner booth in your section.

“Guess it’s only fair you guys get to come harass me at work now too, huh?” you ask rhetorically.

Roy chuckles, “Oh, yeah. Big time.”

Kori smacks him on the shoulder, not delicately, mind you. “We will be doing nothing of the harassment with our wonderful friend,” she says sternly.

Roy holds his hands up in surrender and offers you a sheepish apology. “She should know by now that I’m just kidding around!” Roy looks to you for silent approval, something you roll your eyes but give, nonetheless. “See! She’s a total babe about it.”

“Total babe.” You roll your eyes again, mocking him. “Kori,” she looks up at you, “you feeling any better?” 

Kori stutters out a yes before turning to Roy, who offers her no help with the shit-eating grin that now adorns his face. 

“She so digs you, Star,” Roy says as he nudges Kori, who blushes. You watch as she tucks her red hair behind her tanned, pierced ears and inadvertently do the same. “Girls get away with so much more shit with each other than guys can," Roy spouts suddenly. He taps the table as if deep in thought. "Now that I think of it, Jay wouldn’t even let me watch porn with him when we were first BFFs. Can you believe that?” He jabs an elbow into Jay's side. "Didn't take long to change that though, eh?"

Everyone at the table stares at him, though Jay’s and yours come across as more deadpan than Kori’s shocked one.

“Roy,” you sigh his name, hitting your pad with the butt of your pen, “just fucking order before I start lengthening my visits to piss you off.”

“Is that not what you already do?” It’s surprisingly from Kori and you have no choice but to throw your head back and laugh. You watch her clap her hands together with your eyes still crinkled with laughter at how adorable Kori is. “She is a total babe, Roy!”

You blush, realizing she must’ve meant about how you handled their humor… obviously.

From behind, you hear the manager, Pam, clear her throat. You turn around to see her pointedly looking at her watch, then at you. God forbid someone make some fucking tips in this shithole.

“Roy,” you glance up from your empty pad of paper to meet his verdant gaze. “Food. Pick. Now,” you demand, leaning down to point your pen down on his menu while fixing him with a semi-stern glance.

“Big stack,” he says. The redhead leans in, closing the distance between the two of you as he hands you his menu. You inadvertently release a gasp at the close contact as he proudly recites his order from memory, the fucking cunt. “Chocolate chip and peanut butter cakes, please, alternated if ya care, darlin’,” he continues with a wink. “Side of sausage would be incredible."

You mutter under your breath something about him still being incorrigible before retreating to focus on the raven-haired man beside him. “And what can I get for you, Jay?” 

He’s been, unsurprisingly, quiet and you catch him off guard. His cheeks flush and his menu flips up as a makeshift barrier to cover it. 

Roy snickers, “Jay, you gettin’ that pan cake, too?” Roy’s fiery eyebrows wiggle up and down until there’s a loud thump, followed by Roy groaning. “Well, excuse me for living, bro.” Another thump, followed by another groan from Roy.

The bells above the diner door jingle and your co-workers voice out “hello’s” in varied levels of enthusiasm.

Kori’s voice draws your attention back to the table, “Two of the breakfast specials for me. One with bacon and waffles, the other with sausage and chocolate chip pancakes, please!” She flashes you her perfect teeth as she hands you back the menu with her Hello Kitty acrylics, bending the laminate page in the process.

“‘Atta girl,” Roy says, patting her on the back. “Actually, I’ll do the same.” 

You fiddle with their menus before steadying them over top of each other under your arm before turning back to Jay.

“French toast, please.”

“Bacon or sausage, love?” you reply monotonously. When you realize that your usual work pet name for customers had accidentally slipped through, your cheeks burn. You clear your throat to cover over the sounds of Roy’s barely concealed snickering.

In your defense, you ask this question to tables around ten times a shift, if not more. 

It’s out of habit. 

Purely habit, you convince yourself. 

The rest of their visit goes without further complications as the ever-present weekend rush streaming incessantly through the doors keeps you busy for the most part. Soon enough, you’re boxing up what remains of Jay’s and Roy’s plates and sending them out the door with extra goodies.

It’s not the last time they all visit, but mainly Roy and Jay or, even more surprisingly, Jay on his own trickle in throughout the following weeks.

When it’s just Jay and Roy, you know they’ll leave you with stitches in your sides from their constant old-married-couple-esque banter.

However, it’s the times Jay comes in on his own and plops down at the counter with a book that you appreciate the most. His presence demands attention and damn, does he have all of yours.

“Whatcha reading this week?” You manage stop yourself from using your usual ‘handsome’ pet name, but just barely. It’s a diner, for fucks sake. People expect a certain hospitality. Doll, darlin’, handsome, cutie, love and gorgeous have all now been permanently ingrained into your lingo here. He tilts the book better towards you from your position behind him. You set the coffee pot down on the counter and lean in, brushing against his shoulder in the process, “A Separate Peace?”

He hums in approval, watching as your eyes skim over the fifth page of the book. There’s a great pause as you assume he finishes reading before he looks up at you, silently asking for your permission to turn the page. You let out an amused huff and nod, settling close once again as you begin to scan through the next page. 

It's only a matter of time before Pam pops up out of nowhere and the last thing you needed was another write-up, so, after another page, you set about work once again, albeit distracted.

After Jay’s fourth solo visit, you realize you both read at the same pace. You only notice because he stays on the page a bit too long, even after both of your eyes have stopped pouring over the words. 

This time, as soon as you finish, you catch his eyes. You offer a tiny smile when you see him come to the end of the text and waste no time in flipping the page. 

From then on out, you’re in charge of page flipping, so long as other tables don’t call your attention away for too long. You never mind when he goes ahead and continues reading, considering most of them were classics you’ve already read cover to cover. 

“I can always flip back to page 143,” he offers easily as your tired weight sinks against him after a particularly drawn-out rush. 

You just refill his coffee and allow him to turn the pages until he finds a rhythm that works for both of you. You blush, thinking about all the other rhythms you could find with him. However, the pain in your feet draws the majority of your attention, while the plot on the pages of his book captures the rest.

“I need to get a library card to keep up with you,” you respond instead. You then carefully glance around for Pam, grateful when her red hair is nowhere in sight. “I used to go to the library more than GameStop, if you’d believe it.”

“I do,” he says and smirks without taking his eyes off the page. “There’s a nice library outside next to the community garden near the reservations a bit of ways east.”

“Sounds nice,” you say, furrowing your brows as you read, then reread a paragraph. 

Is he asking you on a date?

You must’ve been quiet for a while because his deep voice startles you from your wandering thoughts. “You talk a lot in the store, but you seem to pretty quiet right now,” he says. 

You blush at his observation. “Shut up, Jay.” 

He snorts humorlessly, “Why do you keep calling me that?” 

“Is that not your name?” 

“No,” he says, glancing at your reaction from out of the corner of his eye. 

“Oh.” What do you say to that? Silence proceeds and you let yourself become wrapped up in it before anxiously offering an explanation. “It’s just, you never wear a name tag and the only things Roy ever calls you is Jay or Jaybird, so,” you trail off, trying hard not to desperately search his eyes for approval. 

“It’s Jason,” he says.

You nod. “Okay, Jason.” 

“I don’t care if you keep calling me Jay, though. It’s kind of cute,” he says. Before your blush can worsen (if that was even possible at this point), he hands you his phone for you to enter your number into. He wastes no time in phoning you so you can have his number, too. “Come in tomorrow. I get off at noon; I’ll take you.”

Again, date???? 

“Okay, Jay,” you say, catching the nickname too late and duck your head sheepishly. 

You hear the kitchen door hinges squeak and quickly busy yourself with the cloth in your hand. You innocently wipe as Pam glares you down like she knows you've been slacking off.

“You’re staying for inventory today, right?” Pam’s smile is pure rancid shit to you.

Considering this is the third time this month she’s assigned you this laborious task, you feel like losing your shit. None of the other workers ever seemed to have inventory duty, but here you are, staying into the wee hours of the night, driving yourself crazy with numbers until it all looks like a foreign language AGAIN. 

“Sure thing, Pam,” you respond with the same fake smile. “I’ll be here.”

Her eyes flick from Jason to you with amusement before exiting the restaurant. 

Jason sips the last of his coffee and closes his book. “Glad to know there are shittier managers out there than me.”

“I wouldn’t mind having you as a boss,” you admit, picking up his empty cup and dumping it in the bus tray behind the counter. 

He takes in your expression, searching for sarcasm. When he finds none, he laughs and your heart stops, “Please, you’d just slack off like all my other employees.”

You shoot him a look, “Oh, so that’s what you’ve deduced from the time you’ve spent watching me? Don't act like you don't see me run my ass off here shift after shift.”

“Yeah, I’d never want your job,” he says, blinking with one eye. Normally, you’d just think he’s winking, but it just seems like a twitch. Is he nervous or something? He clears his throat, ruffling his hair in the process, “Want me to wait for you?”

“Just have to get change for this one table, then I can close down for the night,” you say, waving him off before following him over to the front. “Trust me, you already know inventory sucks ass.”

“True, just be careful,” he warns. The raven glances over his shoulder at you in lieu of a goodbye. 

You watch him board a red Benelli and book it out of the empty parking lot with a loud roar that shakes you to your bones all the way from inside.

You’d regret not taking his offer 15 minutes later when you look up at the sound of the door’s bell. 

Your welcome instantly dies on your tongue when you see the creep from GameStop hobble drunkenly over to the counter. There’s a wicked glint in his eyes, one that’s entirely hard to miss

You text Jason and hesitate a few beats before also texting Roy, lamenting the fact you don’t have Kori’s number. You shoot off quick messages asking if either can stop by the diner ASAP. You slip your phone inconspicuously back into your apron, completely undetected by the dickwad at the counter, before continuing on with your closing duties.  

A minute later and the silence is broken.

His rough voice has your head shooting toward him, but it's too slurred to make out. He continues rambling to himself as you attempt to distance yourself from him, but once he stands up, you still feel too close.

"I said," he grips the counter for balance, "you gotta guard dog here, too?"

"I'm allergic to dogs." It's a lie, but he doesn't need to know that.

You try to keep it light and flit about your closing duties until the man grabs you around the waist. Before you can stop it, he tugs you against him, closing the entirety of distance you've created between the two of you.

You struggle against his hold, elbowing behind you. You assume you’ve made contact with his nose when you hear a sickening crunch.

“What? You fuckin’ both of ‘em, you fuckin��� whore?” His words are slurred and, from up close, you’re affronted with the smell of whiskey. “You like cock so much, but you don’t want mine?!" he screams. It’s then that the drunk man smacks you across the face and you fall to the floor with a shocked cry. "You, ungrateful BITCH!” 

Your phone clatters against the tile just out of reach as the man rushes forward and attempts to pin you against the cold floor below. It’s been mere seconds but, fuck, does it feel like forever as his beady eyes take in your body like a lion sidling up to its corbered prey. 

Your heartbeat rapidly pounds in your ears as the seconds tick on.

You try your best to kick and roll, but his satisfied, drunken laughter soon fills the emptiness of the diner. You feel all hope leave you. 

That is, until the door's suddenly kicked in.

The man’s weight is off of you in an instant. Soon, the cold quiet of the dim diner is replaced with pained screams as two shadows beat down on the man relentlessly.

A sweet voice startles you from behind- Kori, you realize once you get past the haze of what just happened.

“Are you hurt?” Her gentle hands cup your arms as she helps you stand. She says your name again and you meet her eyes, albeit unfocused, “Did he hurt you?”

Physically? Yes. Mentally? Yes.  

“No.” 

She eyes you with doubt but continues to calmly guide you out of the diner. “We won’t allow him on our premises anymore, I promise,” she coos your name gently as her long, thin fingers stroke through your hair. “I promise,” she repeats over and over again and your heartbeat finally steadies.

Tears drip silently down your cheeks until flashes of red and blue stain them.

The cops come and try their best to dissuade you from filing a report, warning that it can take hours and might not even get anywhere. However, with the support of your newfound friends, you persevere and mentally prepare yourself for the battle ahead.

Your restraining order is filed and issued within the week.

A/N: i dont really get into the aftermath much in this fic but i did just want to say: sometimes when assault happens it’s not as big or obvious in the moment like this but it doesn’t make your feelings any less valid. when you feel in your gut that something’s wrong, please believe yourself and follow through with necessary precautions/steps and allow yourself to grieve- love y’all

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[mikkit13]

UnderValley Chapter 1

You don’t have many memories of your grandfather, but you remember vividly the day you said goodbye.

Your parents had always told you to be careful with your grandfather.

“He can’t move as fast as you.”

“Grandpa needs to rest now.”

“Don’t push grandpa too far.”

They had always made him out to be fragile, like he could crumble at any moment, but you had never seen that. It wasn’t that you were oblivious to his needs in favor of your own, no, he hadn’t let you see that fragile side your parents always talked about. When you were around grandpa was active and lively. He’d take you fishing at the beach, get you to help him with the farm, race you up the path to the mountains, even play hide and seek with you in the nearby forest. He was never tired, always waking up with the sun and going to bed well after it.

Until he couldn’t get up any more.

Your parents pulled you out of school early one day. In a rush they picked you up and drove up to your grandfather’s farm. The house was dark when you arrived, this stood out because your grandfather always had the lights on when he was expecting company. There was a strange chill to the air even though it was mid-spring, you shivered and stood closer to your mother.

Your father called out for his father. A whisper of a reply came from upstairs but was cut off by a fit of coughing. Your father ran up the stairs to your grandfather’s room, you wanted to follow, but your mother stopped you. She needed your help making a snack was the excuse she gave you, but you loved to help so you didn’t mind.

You insisted on making your grandfather and yourself some hot cocoa, you both agreed it was a year-round drink, your mother didn’t try to stop you, another strange thing because she often tried to argue against hot chocolate in warm weather. She prepared coffee for herself and your father along with some simple peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. There wasn’t much else to eat around the house. You wanted to bring the tray of food up to your father and grandfather, but your mother suggested you go play in your room. She always told you to take advantage of the fresh valley air when you visited, so her telling you to stay inside was another oddity that didn’t sit well with you, which is probably why you didn’t try to argue and just waddled into your room with the suitcase your parents had packed for you.

Your parents seem to forget about you until it’s dark out, when a soft knock comes at your door. You don’t say come in, but your father softly enters anyways.

“Grandpa wants to see you,” is all he says. His eyes are red and glossy, as if he’d been crying, but why would he cry at Grandpa’s where only happy things happened?

You remain on the floor, too confused to move, so your father picks you up and carries you to the door of your grandfather’s room. Flickering orange light shines under the door as your father sets you on your feet.

“Go in,” he says as he opens the door just enough for you to get through, “Grandpa has something special to give you.”

Your curiosity is piqued at the prospect of gifts so you go in.

You’ve never seen your grandfather’s room like this. Rugs have been removed from the floor along with almost all non essential furniture. Its dusty and only a glowing fire lights the room in a warm glow that you could fall asleep to. Your grandfather lays in his bed wearing his nightclothes, he doesn’t even sit up when you arrive at his bedside.

He’s staring out the window at the night sky as you approach, not seeming to notice you, you reach out and tap his arm.

“Grandpa?”

His head turns to you and for the first time you see the fragility that your parents had always warned you about. His skin is greyer than it should be and his eyes seem foggy. He smiles at you but it doesn’t seem like he actually sees you.

“My dearest grandchild, I’m so glad you’re here. There’s something I want to give you, but first there’s something I must tell you.” You don’t say anything, he grabs your hand in assurance, though it feels more like it’s for him than you, “This world can be difficult to live in. You’re still young enough to have dreams, but a day will come when it seems that the world is trying to squash them and tell you how to live. When it seems the only thing your life is for is making money and working. Your bright spirit will fade before and ever growing emptiness. When that happens you’ll be ready for this.”

He passes you a sealed envelope. A purple wax seal with your grandfather’s initials molded into it keeps the envelope closed, you are about to open it when he stops you.

“No no, little one, don’t open it now. Wait for when you truly need it.”

He pats your hand, a signal to put his gift away, then he simply holds your hand for a moment. His eyes connect with yours and for the first time since you entered the room he seems to actually look at you. You’re both silent for the moment. Then he smiles and tear starting to form in the corner of his eye. He releases your hand and turns towards the ceiling, closing his eyes.

“Now, let your grandfather rest.”

The next morning your father found his father dead.

The funeral is a blur of your mom dressing you in your simplest black outfit, the ride to the funeral home, people crying, and your grandfather’s casket being lowered into the ground. All the why you’re trying to understand how someone as alive as your grandfather could one day just… stop.

That rush of memories jolts you from your daydreaming.

The sound of typing, ringing phones, and the ticking clock reminding you that you’re not a kid anymore. Your grandfather hasn’t just died and you’re not at his funeral. Instead you’re at work, doing your job. Your job… which is… something. You look at your computer. Numbers moving across the screen faster than you can follow. Your phone rings and you answer immediately, the caller doesn’t even address you by name, just tells you an new assignment and the day they need it by which is far to soon to finish within working hours and your company doesn’t pay you overtime. They hang up before you can even utter a word.

You look around your tiny, grey cubicle. You peer out at the walkway and the cubicles around you. The one behind you has a new resident, they old one was fired after asking for vacation days to see their child’s graduation. The one infront of you has been cordoned off for reasons unknown with tall plastic drapes keeping anyone from looking inside.

You slump back in your uncomfortable swivel chair and stare blankly up at the tiled ceiling.

When had your work gotten so… hard. Was is always this way? You look at your computer again, the work honestly wasn’t difficult, you know what to do and how to do it, yet every movement and thought seems to drain you of energy that you already don’t have. Why had you taken this job? It was nothing like what you had dreamed of doing. What had you dreamed of doing? You can’t remember. But you do remember something. You open your desk drawer, the one place you’re allowed to have personal possessions. You have to dig around a bit, but you find what you’re looking for: a yellowed envelope with a purple seal. When had you started bringing it to work? You don’t know. But you do know that you can’t go on like this. You rip open the envelope like ripping off a bandaid. Inside is a letter written in very familiar and nearly unreadable handwriting.

“If you’re reading this, you must be in dire need of a change. The same thing happened to me, long ago. I’d lost sight of what mattered most in life… real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong.”

Behind the letter was a document stating that your grandfather had left you ownership of his old farm, the one you had visited many times in your childhood. You reread the letter, not really because you don’t understand, but because it’s so strange to see your grandfather’s writing again.

A knock on your cubicle wall and someone calling your name doesn’t turn your head.

“Our monitors show you haven’t been working for the past ten minutes. Do you have anything to say?” A man in a black suit and sunglasses asks.

You look between him and the letter in your hands and say two words that you should have said ages ago.

“I quit.”

[claudeng80]

How the cookie crumbles (Hallmark AU)

“What exactly is a cake tasting, anyway?” Obi drops his coffee and Shirayuki’s mostly-chocolate impostor on the table, then one of the shop’s signature giant cookies. This one has M&M’s in it.

“The last thing the baker needs to know from us is what flavor the cake should be.” Shirayuki breaks the cookie in half, ever so careful to make the sides exactly equal. “I picked my two favorite options from their list, and we get to go try them before choosing.”

“Fancy. What time do you want me to come back for you?” If it’s at least half an hour, that would give him time for a run to the grocery store- his empty pantry is generally just the way he likes it, but she said something about a peanut butter and jelly sandwich yesterday and he’s been craving it ever since.

But his visions of peanut butter fade as she frowns. “Won’t you come with me? It would be so much nicer to have someone to share the experience with, and that way the decision isn’t just what I like.”

“You’re the bride, the cake is supposed to be what you like,” he growls, then cuts himself off with a sip of coffee. It burns his tongue, just like not saying that this is a job for her fiance, not his executive assistant.

“Come on, Obi, it’s cake,” she wheedles, and he crumbles like an M&Ms cookie.

“If that’s what you really want,” he answers, and she lights up like he’s said something that really matters. He stares into the depths of his coffee so she can’t see how happy that makes him, against his will. “Hard to turn down cake.”

She’s still bouncing as they walk the two doors down to the bakery. “This place has so many flavors, I was so proud of myself narrowing it down to just two. I think you’re going to like them!”

The bell over the door tinkles sharply and a wave of sugar-scented air rolls over them. He likes sweets as much as the next person, but it’s a lot. She owes him hot wings after this, and he’s going to make her eat one because it’s too funny not to.

He lingers by the window while Shirayuki talks to the lady at the desk, but she waves him over to a tiny table they have off to the side. There are only two chairs, and the white tablecloth has ruffles. It looks romantic.

“I’ve got samples of all four of the options you picked,” the baker says. “Any of them will work with the decorations you picked out, so that’s not a factor, you just need to let me know which you want. Different layers can be different flavors, too, if you prefer.”

“Four? I thought I only sent you two.”

“You did.” The baker nods to Obi with a slightly disappointed look on her face. “But so did he.”

This is where Obi usually objects. People flatter him with the guess simply because he’s the one standing behind her when she talks about weddings, but he knows where he ranks. He’s just the driver, the buyer of coffee, and the carrier of packages. The fiance is elsewhere. Busy.

But just this once he doesn’t leap to speak up. He meets Shirayuki’s eyes, waiting for her to set the baker straight, and she just smiles. Smiles at him, and then smiles at the baker. “He didn’t tell me that, but of course we have to try his preferences too. Thank you,” she adds, and the woman softens a bit.

“I’ll be right back with the samples. They can all be decorated the same, so we’ll talk about that after you’ve picked a flavor.” The baker chatters on, all her attention on the bride now that the groom’s opinions have been dismissed, and Obi has a moment to just sit back and watch.

Shirayuki has a smile that’s nearly impossible to resist. She thinks people look happy all the time, because when they’re facing her they can’t help it. Obi can’t help it, and she thinks the best of him too. It’s intoxicating.

The baker leaves, and Shirayuki turns back to Obi, grinning from ear to ear just because they can put a raspberry filling in the yellow cake Zen picked. He grins right back, helpless to resist.

He doesn’t even like lemon. But oh, he likes her so much.

The baker leaves the plate with another scowl at Obi. He shares her opinions of Zen’s taste in cake options, but holds his tongue until she’s gone. “Please tell me I don’t look like a vanilla cake kind of guy.”

Shirayuki sticks her fork into the white cake with a little more force than necessary. “I don’t think it’s fair to generalize…” Her gaze at the scoop of monochrome dessert she picks up is dismayed. “I don’t know what Zen was thinking, though.”

Obi gets his own bite, a fraction the size of Shirayuki’s. “Cheers,” he says, raising his fork, and together they eat cake.

“It’s, um…” Shirayuki puts down her fork with a sense of finality.

“Very white,” Obi finishes.

“The icing’s tasty,” she adds.

“Not too sweet,” he agrees. He likes a sweet cake as much as the next person, but sometimes it’s too much.

She’s trying not to say something, but he waits. A minute of silence and the truth comes bursting out. “I really don’t want a wedding cake that’s this boring!”

With one finger, Obi spins the plate sitting between them. “Good thing there are more options.”

One slice is the lemon raspberry. Another is a pale color, not quite white. “Rum spice,” she says, and Obi takes a closer look.

“Sounds good to me, but I thought you’d want your groom awake-” He shuts his mouth on any mention of the wedding night. Zen’s gotten tipsy on candy before. Cough syrup knocks him out. As delicious as it sounds, any alcohol in his food is a risk.

“Oh, I forgot.” Shirayuki slaps a hand over her mouth. “I guess it’s out of the running, then.”

“Did you forget you have no alcohol tolerance either?”

“I can handle cake.” She doesn’t bother with a fork, just breaks off a chunk with two fingers and sticks it in her mouth. “Mmm.”

The chance to be the civilized one is too good to pass up. Obi takes the next fork off the stack, delicately cutting a straight-edged piece off the rum cake. Shirayuki watches every move, so he takes his time about it. It must be good, the way she looks like she’s going to snatch it right out of his hand, but it makes it to his mouth without incident. He can’t help a moan too.

“I know, right?” Her face is red, but she reaches for the next piece of cake. This one’s speckled, a kind of brownish-orange, and he has a bad feeling about it.

“Mmm.” Shirayuki’s eyes roll back, and Obi bites his tongue. Things like that are not for him to notice and certainly not for him to comment on, but it’s not crossing the line to just enjoy the sight. Her eyelashes are crimson against her skin as she savors the bite, throat working at last as she finishes it, but they snap open again, catching him watching. “You have to try this carrot cake, Obi.”

“Oh, no. Vegetables are vegetables and cake is cake. I’m not crossing them.” His fork clatters against the plate, decisively.

“But it doesn’t taste like vegetables, it’s good-” she takes another bite, small like she’s saving it for something.

“I’m glad you like it. Is that the wedding cake, then?”

Her jaw sets. “I don’t think it’s a fair contest if you don’t taste all of them.” She sets aside her fork, scooping up a sizable bite with her bare hand. She leans forward, half out of her chair, holding out the piece like a treat for some kind of reluctant pet.

“You aren’t serious,” he says, but in the depth of his gut he knows better. She’s so stubborn, and she’s got the look in her eye again. She’s going to do something rash. He laughs, because sometimes that defuses her, but no-

“Try me.” Her knee slides forward onto his chair, bracing between his legs, and his laugh falls to nothing. Her free hand grabs his shoulder, and she pulls herself half into his lap, waving carrot cake in his face.

This is more than he can be expected to take. He shakes his head, weak in the face of her, and she laughs and presses the attack. As in she presses the chunk of cake right against his lips. Her hair is wild around her face and her eyes are dancing, and he can’t deny her when she wants something from him that badly. He opens his mouth.

More cake than he would like reaches its destination, but still it’s only about half of what she’s trying to force on him. The rest falls to crumbs against his lips, and without thinking he tries to catch them with his tongue.

What he catches, instead, is her hand, smooth and hard against the flat of his tongue.

She snatches her hand back, and crumbs cascade to the floor like a handful of sand. They patter to a stop in the sudden silence, but he can't tear his eyes away from hers.

She sees him. The facade he's built lies in shards among the cake crumbs. Every time he's held his tongue when she's sad Zen is neglecting her hangs around his neck like a stone. It's as though he's said out loud, "I would never treat you like that."

Her elbow flexes, pulling her closer for one heartbeat that skips beneath her fingers, not daring to imagine any outcome but flight, and then she springs back from his chair. Her hip sends the cafe table rocking, her foot tips over her chair, and she pauses out of reach and poised to fly.

"Is everything all right?" The bakery door bangs against the wall and Shirayuki bolts upright.

"Thank you but the wedding's off!" She shouts, and she runs.

Obi swallows the carrot cake in his mouth, moist and sweet and yet somehow dry as ashes. It takes another minute for his heart to beat again, the dull thudding in his chest all too familiar. He may not understand, but he knows what comes next. He's never smiled a faker smile, set the chair back up with such care. "What was that all about?" asks the baker.

"Nerves," he answers, hating every word. "The carrot cake was her favorite, though." He stacks plates, putting on a show of unconcern while every moment she gets further away, then picks up the bag she left behind.

"Go, go," the baker says. "I see this all the time. A nice apology and everything will be fine. It's probably not even your fault."

"If only," Obi says. He looks from her down to the cake leftovers scattered across the serving plate. “Can we take the rest of this to go?”

[kiankiwi]

Okay, imagine you've left little E alone in the kitchen for a bit to get the phone or something, and when you come back he's covered in chocolate or peanut butter from getting into the cupboards?

You're so good at this! And so quick too! <3

When you had left the room, on the phone with your mother, E was waiting on his snack and he was a very impatient little. Much like he was out of headspace as well actually. So, he thought he’d get his snack himself instead of waiting for you to get off the phone with your mother which he knew could drone on and on about nothing.

Elvis knew he’d be breaking one of his rules because he often overate and then would suffer tummy aches but he knew you had a junk food stash hidden somewhere in this kitchen and he wanted to find it! He craned his neck to check if he could see you in the other room and perked his ears to see if he could hear you talking and judge where you were in Graceland and he could tell that you were far away.

So he immediately got up and opened all the cupboards searching for the snack foods. After a few minutes he went from the cupboards to your basket on the top of the fridge which thankfully he could reach. Inside that basket that he brought down that he had just thought was decorative for some reason was filled with your favorite snack foods and of course some leftover Halloween candy. Even if Graceland didn't hand out candy, it was always nice to stock up on candy, you thought around holiday times when the stores sold it in bulk.

Jackpot! Elvis thought as he took the bowl to the table and started tearing open the candy packages, making an absolute mess and getting chocolate all over his mouth.

He was too enraptured in the candy to notice you coming back into the kitchen on the tail end of your phone call. You just stared in shock that not only Elvis had broken the rules, he hadn't even noticed you come in the room. Oh he was definitely going in time out. "Sorry mom, I gotta go. Yeah, Elvis says hi. I gotta- gotta go. Love you too. Yeah, talk to you soon." Elvis looks at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Elvis Aaron! Baby, why couldn't you have waited for me. Now you've made a mess!" (I love his middle name for some reason!) You put the phone down and wet a washcloth bringing it up to his face to wipe the chocolate from his cheeks. Elvis fought and grumbled at you until you tossed the dirty washcloth in the sink. "But I wanted a snackie mama!" You sighed, gathering all the candy wrappers. No doubt this boy would have a sore tummy tonight and of course he'd stay up crying and uncomfortable and wanting cuddles.

"And you were gonna get a snackie baby if you had just waited ten minutes but now you've broken the rules." Elvis pouts, looking down at his pants, picking at a string. You take Elvis's chin in your hands so he'll meet your eyes. "What rules did you break, mister?" Elvis looked away sheepishly. "Not do a mess and don't get food without mama cause then I might break something and hurt myself..." He said quietly. You nodded. "Like that time you dropped that jelly jar and cut your palm huh?" He nodded. "Just wanted a nana sandwich. And wanted to do it myself. Like a big boy." You nodded.

"I understand that lovie. But do you understand why you need to wait to have help sometimes?" He nodded. "Now do you know where you're going?" He nodded, still looking down. "The step." He murmured. You nodded, placing your hand on Elvis's upper back guiding him toward the staircase and he sat down on the bottom step dubbed his timeout step.

"But my snack mama?!" Elvis asked frantically. You nodded. "You will sit here ten minutes and then we'll have a snack after. Don't you get your butt up do you understand?" Elvis put his palm in his hand. "Yes mama."

You walked away and went to fix him his promised snack. Ten minutes later you walked up to Elvis holding a bowl of teddy grahams, one of his favorite little space snacks. Seeing you, Elvis quickly wiped his face of his quiet tears and sniffled. "Hi mama, I get up now?" You put down the bowl beside Elvis and opened your arms. "Can mama have a hug first?" Elvis nodded and hugged you tight, nuzzling into your bosom. "I love you sweet boy. All is forgiven. Let's have a snack now okay, back to the kitchen." Elvis nodded, picking up the bowl.

"I love you too mama. I'm sorry I was naughty." You smiled, placing your hand in Elvis's hair; you loved it when it was fluffy. "Thank you sweet boy."

*

Hope you enjoyed it! @arianatheangel-girl is great with requests, I love all of them! <3

[mythoughtsbysms]

Next Stage

Do not repost this post. This is my original work.

TW: patterns involving food and dieting.

When you both went inside the building where you live, people were staring at you and Matt as you both were walking to your apartment. Luckily, there weren’t too many eyes on you but it was enough that it made you anxious thinking they were going to tell someone. 

You got to your door and unlocked it. Matt followed you inside and commented on how beautiful and welcoming your home appeared. You thanked him and went towards the kitchen to grab some homemade treats. You told Matt he was welcome to sit on the couch while you get things ready and offered him a drink. 

Y/N: Hey, you are welcome to sit on the couch while I get things ready. Do you want something to drink? Water? Sparking Water? Tea?

Matt: Thanks! I would like some water, please.

Y/N: I’ll get that for you. 

You brought him a glass of iced water and went back into the kitchen to grab some food. You grabbed your homemade pumpkin scones, almond butter cookies, and chocolate peanut butter cups. These were your favorite treats and you were very excited to share them with Matt. You checked them to make sure they were good even though they were frozen the moment they were done baking. You doubled and triple-checked and when you saw that they were good, you placed the pumpkin scones and almond butter cookies in the toaster oven to heat up while the chocolate peanut butter cups were thawing. 

Matt snuck up behind you to see how you were doing since you were taking a little bit. 

Matt: Hey. Is everything okay in here?

Y/N: Hey. Yeah. Everything is okay here. Why do you ask?

Matt: You were taking a little bit and wanted to make sure you were okay. 

Y/N: Oh okay. I was just seeing what I have and checking to make sure they were good even though I froze them the day I baked them. Checking makes me feel better especially if I have guests over. 

Matt seemed a little worried and pushed you further to get more information out of you.

Matt: Is there a reason you check your food?

Y/N: I’m scared of getting sick and mold makes me very nervous and scared to eat that food. I’m deathly afraid of vomiting and nausea. Every time I eat, I have to check the heck out of my food because if I don’t I get too scared to eat. 

Matt: I’m so sorry you go through that daily. Is there anything I can do?

Y/N: No, don’t worry! I’m currently seeing a therapist and working on trusting my gut and trusting that the food I’m going to eat will not make me sick.

Matt: Okay. I’m glad you reached out for help. Will you at least let me know if you need help in any way? 

Y/N: Yes, I’ll reach out to you if I need help. 

Matt proceeds to stay in the kitchen with you and sees the treats you have on the counter and in the toaster oven. You tell them what they are and what they are made of. You found these recipes online by searching “healthy [ insert treat of choice ]” online. However, you hate the word “healthy” being used because food is food and you still see the treat as a treat. Almost as if the word healthy vilifies the original food. 

You tell Matt and Matt agrees with you. Since meeting Matt, you felt like you have known him your whole life even though it's been 3-4 days. It’s one of those friendships where both parties can tell each other EVERYTHING about themselves without shame. Once the treats were done and plated, you and Matt leave the kitchen and sit on the couch with drinks. You two talked for a good hour or two before you both looked at each other and leaned in for a kiss. After you kissed, Matt looked as if he did something wrong.

Matt: Hey Y/N, I had a great time but I need to go. Thank you for the treats.

Y/N: No problem. Is everything okay?

Matt: Yeah, I just need to go.

Y/N: Okay. Thank you for joining me.

Matt opens the door, looks at you with a smile, and closes the door behind him. You had strong feelings for him but, at the same time, you felt as if everything was over between you and Matt because of how quickly he left. You thought you did something wrong. You cleaned everything up and started to make yourself dinner. You made yourself a rice bowl with roasted cauliflower and sweet potato with a little bit of seasoned chicken. It was nice and warm and you felt a little better - cooking makes you feel a little bit better. 

After cleaning up dinner, you went to your room and changed into your pajamas. You grabbed your daily journal and wrote about your day.

December 17, 2023

What happened today?

Matt and I went to the cafe where I saw him the morning after the concert. It was very fun and we were there for a few hours before coming back to my place for sweet treats. Everything was going well and he kissed me but things started to get weird after the kiss. He rushes out of the house telling me he needed to get home. Did I do something wrong? I don’t think I did. I hope he is okay and we can pass this but, I’m going to be optimistic and think positively. It can be a huge misunderstanding since I have a harder time understanding body language. His tone was calm and sweet and didn’t sound panicked or scared. I’m going to give him space and see what happens. 

I’m grateful for...

My home and food

Washington weather

My friends and family

To-Dos:

Sketching

Lunch with Matt at 11:30am

Unpack (of course)

Organize books

You place your journal next to your bed and went to sleep. You turned your sound off so you can get some sleep. 

[rizatouchesthewalls]

Fools and Parade

Originally from my AO3, check it out!

CW: angst, comfort, typical mafuyu backstory, emu is depressed too but thats revealed later on

||P1 [you’re here!] :: P2 :: P3 ::||

How’d It Taste?

I don’t really think anything in life could have prepared me for the abnormality that is Ootori Emu. She came into my life uninvited like most do, creating a new bother for me everyday. A new person to impress. It was odd for us to be hanging out, in social terms.

“Are you aware of this, Ootori-san?” I asked her one day. I noticed me and Emu were alike in the sense where our actions have no meaning at all, though mine comes from something programmed into me since I was a child and she…

She’s just impulsive.

“Odd? Why I don’t think it’s odd at all!” She kicked her feet and stuffed another animal-shaped peanut butter and jelly snack into her mouth. I told her that it was impolite to eat with food in her mouth. This answer was over a month ago though. Should I start from the beginning?

“Bye bye, Ichika! I’ll make sure to say hi to Kanade for you,” I “smiled,” waving my hand. Ichika nodded with a sparkle in her eyes.

”Thank you, Asahina-senpai!”

I watched her walk away and returned to my natural self. ‘It’s lunch hour now, isn’t it?’ I thought. Closing my eyes, I prepared for what could come next. Upon walking into the classroom I will be met with students asking me for help. Then I’ll be asked to eat lunch with. Compliments, praise, and idolization will be given. It’s all so annoying. ‘I guess I’ll just get this over wi—’

“WONDAHOOOOOOOOOY!!!!!!!!!” A spunky voice nearly screeched in my ear.

Ootori Emu. This little underclassman is the enemy of monotony. I quickly regained composure and faced her with a soft smile. “Ah, Ootori-san hehe, that’s that little signature line you say right?” Emu’s expression immediately dampened and her face went pale. She nodded nervously. I didn’t understand this reaction, and it only seemed to happen when I smiled. Was there something odd about it? No one else had informed me about such a concern. I shook my head and turned to open the classroom door.

“Well, Ootori-san, I’m glad to see you’re in a cheerful mood. I’ll be eating lunch now—“

“Senpai wait! Come eat with me!”

…

For some reason she’d rushed me out of the building to some nearby park. We sat on a simple concrete slab on a hill. The scenery was blander (in terms of those who could see more than the day to day colorlessness that I did) considering the one who led me where was Ootori.

She’s fiddling anxiously with her hands. I’m guessing she has something to say. “Uhm, Asahina-senpai, I wanted to share my lunch with you!”

I wanted to sigh. While I partially held Emu to a higher regard due to her sparks of surprising actions, she was just as any other classmates. Someone who put me on a pedestal.

“Oh, of course! Hehe, what do we have here…?” I grabbed a piece of chocolate and pushed it into my mouth. It was bland as ever, of course. I plastered a smile onto my face. “This is delightful—!”

“No need to lie,” I turned to Emu with a rare surprised feeling in my chest. She wasn’t even looking at me. “Senpai… all those empty smiles of yours…”

It was silent between us, and another unexpected feeling rises in my chest, this time one I can’t identify.

“I came here to wipe that stupid expression off your face and tell you that…” She paused, seemingly realizing something. “I don’t just want to be some classmate to you, and that smile at the sports festival. It’s different! I don’t want to be some nothing, and while I just seem like an idiot trying to make everyone smile, to have a gap be closed by “feeling”… then that would be amazing, wouldn’t it?”

I stared at her. My face relaxed. She finally looked towards me. “How’d it taste?”

I paused, letting the wall between us crumbling before I sucked in a deep breath of air and pushed it out.

“I don’t know.”

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Unlikely Places - Chapter 27 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter: 27 -Chocolate Peanut Butter Ice Cream

"Ice cream?"

Startled, I jumped at the sound of Pierce's voice, my head flying up to look at him, I knew I was blushing but there wasn't anything I could do about that.

Pierce laughed lightly at my guilt-like reaction.

"You're making me very curious as to what you're thinking about so seriously over there," he murmured and the pink in my cheeks deepened.

He settled back in the corner of his seat so that he was somewhat facing me.

He looked relaxed and happy.

It was a good look on him.

Determined to try and relax myself, I half turned and drew my thigh up to rest on the seat so I could be more comfortable as we chatted.

In doing so, it brought me in closer contact with Pierce.

My knee was a hand span from touching his leg.

It didn't bother me though, like it would have before.

It seemed like because of him a lot of things bothered me less.

As I remained silent, Pierce murmured 'Curious-er and curious-er' with a smile I could only describe as wicked.

I shook myself mentally.

I needed to sort myself out before I made a fool of myself.

"You mentioned ice cream, I believe," I said a little desperately, trying to regroup as naturally as I could but feeling anything but Pierce's eyes twinkled at me and I could tell he had noticed how off kilter I was.

Thankfully he refrained from saying anything to worsen my self-induced agitation and instead repeated his earlier question.

"Ice cream? Would you like some?"

"Sure, I love ice cream."

"Why am I not surprised?" Pierce teased.

A small puff of laughter made its way past my lips.

"In truth, although I love food, I am not big on sweets, except for ice cream," I paused.

"Yeah, I like ice cream."

"Then ice cream you shall have."

I watched him text someone a message, I assumed either Bruce or Kai up front to let them know.

That made me curious.

"Where have we been driving to, all this time, if you just now told them where to go?"

"I love how quick you are," Pierce said with a look in my direction that upped the temperature a degree.

I could tell he really meant the comment and wasn't just being glib.

He acted like being smart was sexy or something.

My heart fluttered again and maybe even melted just a bit.

A small smile started to form but it didn't stop there as it usually did.

It grew or should I say, it flourished as suddenly a huge grin stretched my face in a smile unlike any other, I had shown the man sitting next to me. Pierce's eyes sharpened as they stared at my lips.

Without thought I looked down at his.

It made me remember the kiss we had shared not long ago or kisses.

I kind of had the feeling he was thinking of them, too.

His eyes darted back up to mine and he gave a small shake of his head.

I completely understood the feeling.

When I was around him, I felt trapped in some sort of strange gravitational pull that overrode my usual clear headedness.

Pierce demolished any claim I had of control.

"Sexy and smart and sweet," Pierce suddenly murmured, drawing my attention back to him, making me blush for the thousandth time tonight as his words penetrated my bemused distraction.

"You, my Jackson, are a real triple threat."

I ducked my head as fiery heat washed up my face.

I wouldn't have been surprised if tiny little flames suddenly ignited at the tips of my ears.

His words alone floored me.

His expression as he said them had been intensely fervent.

I had no choice but to believe him.

I shifted in my seat.

I wanted to turn around so that I could look out my window but I knew that would have been cowardly and most likely rude.

I briefly glanced up at him and stammered out a thank you before ducking my head down again and looked at my fingers that were nervously twisting in my lap.

"Sorry," Pierce said into the fraught silence.

"I didn't mean to make you nervous."

My head shot up towards him.

I didn't want him to be sorry.

I had liked what he said.

His words were special to me.

He saw me in a way completely different from how I saw myself.

I had thought it before and I meant it, he made my heart smile.

I hated the anxiousness that was trying to sweep through me.

It was ruining something wonderful.

I needed to make him understand in this instance, it was me and not him.

"P-please don't be," I said softly, my expression pleading.

"I liked what y-you said," I admitted shyly, my admission seeming to please him as his face softened as he watched me.

"I don't really agree w-with you but it's a nice thing t-to hear. P-please don't apologize."

"But I have, too Jackson because you're stammering again and I've noticed that starts to happen when you become anxious. That means I made you anxious. That bothers me more than you can know."

My heart melted even more.

"Pierce," I sighed.

"I have a-anxiety and it strikes out of the blue. That's not y-your fault. It's happened before and it w-will happen again. I..." I hesitated, before rushing to finish what I wanted to say.

"I d-don't want you to take the words back and y-you would be if you apologize."

It was difficult maintaining eye contact with him but I wanted him to see I was sincere.

I replayed his voice in my mind saying, 'sexy and smart and sweet' and my toes almost curled again at the feelings that swept through me.

God, I so didn't want him to say sorry.