#hes so nice and he held the spot open for me the entire time even though I wasn't sure

[kaycynyrs]

Hi! Quick question for the adults who have more experience adulting, how do you not feel like a shitty person for cancelling plans at the last minute? Please and thank u have a great day

[cvntydazai]

the regulars

you catch the eye of two regulars that come to the diner you work at

pairing; dazai osamu x fem!reader x chuuya nakahara

word count; 3.6k

content warning; nsfw (minors do not interact!), threesome, unprotected sex, mentions of alcohol, mentions of suicide (it’s dazai obv), degrading (dazai calls reader a slut), lowkey meandom!dazai, softdom!chuuya, oral sex (m&f receiving), backshots.., reader is held hostage (not by dazai or chuuya), cursing, unedited writing, probably a lot more

authors note; my first post on here! i’m pretty proud of this!

the diner was almost quiet in the mornings, very few customers and even fewer employees were present. it was usually just yourself and the cook until around noon when the lunch rush hit, but that was okay with you.

it allowed you catch up with whatever hobby you had going on at that moment, this time it was crocheting. whatever online forum that promised you it was easy was lying, you could barely finish the small square you had started.

just as you were beginning to grow frustrated you heard the familiar ding of the diner’s door, alerting you of a customer.

the brown haired man was sopping wet, a dreary gaze in his eyes as he shuffled to an empty table and awaited your service. you jumped to, notepad and pencil already in hand as you approached him.

“i don’t recall rain being on today’s forecast.” your weak attempt at a joke flew over his head entirely.

“oh, it’s not raining. i was trying to die in the river.” the confession didn’t surprise you as much as it should have.

there was talk of a man who was always spotted trying to drown himself, you assumed it was rumors.

“hmm, didn’t seem to work out.” it was the only response you could muster for the bizarre statement.

he opened his mouth to respond but as he lifted his eyes to meet yours he stopped, mouth agape and eyes wide like he had a groundbreaking revelation upon catching your eyes. you cleared your throat, cheeks growing warm from his staring.

“i didn’t realize i was in the presence of someone so beautiful. how rude of me not to greet you with the respect you deserve.” a cheap compliment, but his confidence when saying it was cute.

“what can i get you?” you changed the subject, tapping your pencil to your notebook.

“your number, if it’s available.” with rolled eyes you sighed, he overdid it now.

“let’s start off with your drink, what can i get you?” with a bit more push you questioned him.

“whatever type of whiskey you have.” you hummed, quickly scribbling down his drink and scurrying off to grab it.

when you went to the back the line cook was there prepping for lunch, he only greeted you with a small smile.

his eyes widened when he saw the whiskey you were pouring into a glass.

“a bit early for that, isn’t it?” you snorted.

“it’s for a customer.” he didn’t continue but you could feel his judging gaze.

after delivering the odd man his drink and a bit more bickering you got him to finally order something. just as he was leaving the restaurant got busy so you didn’t have time to wave him goodbye before he was out the door. and that was it, you expected to never see him again.

your shift was usually from open to close, so you swallowed your odd interaction you had that morning and continued on with your day. you got through the lunch and dinner rush without issue and now it was just you and the closing cook.

this was a normal day for you, working long hours and making poor pay. the tips were nice, but did they make up for all the rude customers you face on a daily basis?

you hear the ding of door, it’s ring echoing through the empty restaurant. with 45 minutes until close you wanted to tell whoever was there to leave, but your moral compass fought back with you.

a short man wearing a long coat and a strange looking hat. he was alone, you were thankful for that. you didn’t need a large party right before close.

when he sat down you finally approached him.

“hello, what can i get for you?” he didn’t look up at you, his eyes still scanning the menu.

“just a beer.” a strange request to ask at such hour, especially with a bar being just a couple of blogs down the street. you didn’t voice these thoughts with your customer and instead went to fetch his drink.

when you returned you saw that he was writing down notes in a notebook that he quickly pushed away when he noticed you looming over him. you smiled, setting down the drink and also taking a seat directly across from the stranger.

he shot you a strange look, one that held a mix of curiosity and annoyance.

“we close soon, thought i’d keep ya company.” he scoffed.

“how generous.” laced with sarcasm but there was a small smile playing on his lips.

you two talked for only a little bit, you asked him about what he was writing but he mentioned that it was classified, having something to do with his job that he wouldn’t reveal. eventually you both had to go home as the restaurant was closing. you were surprised by just how fast the time had come and gone when talking to the stranger

“i can walk you home, if you want me to.” he offered, to which you smiled.

“i’m gonna catch the late night bus, but thank you mr..”

“you can just call me chuuya, it’s nice to meet you y/n.” he said, his eyes trained on your nametag.

and then you parted ways, that was what you assumed to be the last of him.

thoughts of the two strange men you met today danced around in your head until you finally succumbed to the exhaustion of the day, the exhaustion that would follow you into the morning for another shift.

the very next day, your next shift you were surprised to see the brunette from the last morning. he waved, noticeably brighter this time around.

“goodmorning!” he yelled, motioning for you to come over.

you complied as he took your hands and sat you down beside him. with little shame he flirted, his mouth moving so fast you could barely keep up. you were able to introduce yourself to him and he did the same, he revealed that his name was dazai.

“would you do me the honor of committing a double suicide with me?” he asked for the millionth time, his bandaged hands snaking up your wrists to hold you tenderly.

“you’re cute, but no.” and with that you shook him off, his hands flying back dramatically.

he stuck around for a bit longer, you made sure he had enough whiskey to keep him busy. sometimes you would catch his gaze as you worked and he’d flash you a pretty smile.

but the times when you would look and he wasn’t staring he’d usually be rubbing his finger around the rim of the glass with his other hand supporting his resting head as he stared out the window in deep thought. you couldn’t help but admire the man, he was attractive.

and just like yesterday he left during lunch rush and your day continued on. and into the night you would encounter yet another familiar face.

chuuya sat in the same spot as he did last night, his arms crossed over his chest as he waited for you to approach him.

“seems like i have two new regulars.” you muttered under your breath as you made your way to him.

he ordered just a beer again and you once again sat down in front of him to chat. you were lucky he came in so close to closing so you usually weren’t even busy.

you chatted for a bit and then, just like yesterday you both got up to leave and he offered again to walk you home. you would just take the bus again.

this routine of your morning regular and your night regular became an almost everyday thing. sometimes one of them wouldn’t show and it worried you but they always showed up again the next day.

you got to know the two of them well, it occurred to you one day just how different they were from eachother. the only similarity was their love for booze, and how much of it they could drink.

somewhere down the line of this routine you started to catch crushes on both men. how scandalous, you thought to yourself. two men practically drinking themselves to death and you were swooning over both of them. who could blame you when they both gave you that certain look. chuuya more subtle than dazai by a long shot, but the ‘fuck me’ eyes they both gave you didn’t lie.

you shook your head, you shouldn’t be thinking these things about strangers that you barely knew. they were just customers, and that’s all they ever would be.

little did you know, they were both thinking the same thoughts about you. dazai hadn’t been able to keep you out of his head since the very first day you two met, for once he was glad his attempt at suicide failed him because it meant meeting you. chuuya was in the same predicament, he never planned on meeting you but once you hooked him in he couldn’t escape.

the pretty diner girl that has two very dangerous men roped in her smile.

when dazai came in the morning to the diner he was expecting to see you there, smiling and waiting patiently as always, but instead in your place was another waitress. he frowned, sitting down in his usual seat.

when the unfamiliar waitress walked to his table he immediately questioned her,

“where’s y/n? this isn’t usually her off day.” she seemed caught off guard, clearing her throat awkwardly.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know. she didn’t show up for her shift so i was called in, the owner tried calling her but she didn’t pick up.” something felt wrong, he felt it in his bones.

he excused himself, muttering something about only wanting to be served by you. just as he was standing his eyes caught a piece of paper hidden between the ketchup and mustard bottle that were displayed next to the menus on the table.

he took the folded up note and quietly exited the diner.

chuuya would experience the same oddity at a later time that day. he saw a different waitress and spotted the note.

and the note read that they were to both be at a specific location at a specific time.

said location was that of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. it would occasionally be put on dazai’s radar if he was looking out for stolen goods or missing people but for the most part no one paid attention to it.

dazai arrived early, surprised to see a particular short man already at the entrance of the warehouse.

“what the hell are you doing here, dazai?” chuuya interrogated first, his voice on edge.

“i could ask you the same thing.” dazai shot back, a pout on his lips.

at first dazai suspected chuuya was behind this, but when chuuya explained your description and that he was looking for you he understood almost instantly.

“someone must have been watching us, found the opportunity to take advantage of the situation.” chuuya spoke, dazai humming in agreement.

“well, if i’m stuck with you at least be useful.” dazai said, walking ahead into the entrance of the warehouse with a shouting ginger following behind him.

the exterior looked better than the interior. old construction equipment everywhere with strange stains covering the walls and floors, it was definitely abandoned.

chuuya worried for you, not because he feared that you were hurt but because this place reeked. he could hardly imagine you being here, sitting somewhere in a cold dark corner with a dangerous person holding you hostage.

“someone’s got a lot of nerve to target her..” chuuya mumbled to no one in particular.

“they do, which is why we’re going to take care of whoever did this and get my woman back.” dazai responded, keeping his eyes peered for any signs of you.

“your woman? in your dreams!” chuuya let out a loud laugh that he hushed immediately after hearing what sounded like a cry coming from deeper in the warehouse.

both men sprinted forward, stopping once met with the sight of you chained to the floor with a man peering over you.

he turned to dazai and chuuya, a wide grin on his face.

you could barely see the scene before you, your head fuzzy from whatever the stranger had hit you with to knock you out. you barely remember how it happened, you only recall waking up in the dark with the man who abducted you.

just like before, everything was fading to black, this time your mind at peace now that you knew help was here. you didn’t know if it was the police or whoever, you didn’t care. just being content that someone came for you, you let the darkness consume you.

-

when you came to you saw dazai and chuuya standing over you, yet to see you were awake.

“don’t try to wake her up, she’s clearly exhausted, dazai. let her wake up on her own.” you heard chuuya’s voice along with a sigh from dazai.

“i just want to make sure she’s okay. especially after you carried her around like she was a damn ragdoll.” the brunette muttered.

“what else was i supposed to do? sit there and let that guy shoot at us?” you groaned, the loud noises not settling well on your ears.

everything went silent. both men stared down at you expectantly. you sat upright, wiping your eyes.

“dazai? chuuya? you two know eachother?” it was all you could muster, it made dazai grin.

“unfortunately.” chuuya mumbled, shoving away the arm dazai was trying to lay across his shoulder.

“i’ve got to say y/n, i’m hurt! i thought i was the only man in your life.” you ignored dazai’s dramatics, instead looking to chuuya for answers to where you were.

he explained the entire situation, after they “took care of” the person who abducted you, they brought you to chuuya’s apartment and have been waiting for you to wake up since.

the explanation made you realize just how awkward of a position you were in. you laid on the end of chuuya’s bed with the two men standing over you. you squeezed your thighs together and gathered your thoughts. this was not the time.

“this is a lot to wrap my head around.. why did they abduct me out of all people?” you knew you had been abducted and held hostage but you still didn’t understand why.

“oh, belladonna.” dazai cooed, his hand reaching to caress your cheek.

“they thought to take out our common weakness.” chuuya continued, his palm resting against the other cheek.

they didn’t need to finish their sentence, you already knew. the lingering gazes from both men at the diner, the flirting from dazai, the gentlemanly offers to walk you home from chuuya.

they were wrapped around your finger, they always had been. there was no more denying that fact, they had risked their lives to save you.

“i.. guess i should be thanking my saviors then, shouldn’t i?” a double meaning, they both knew it too.

“mmm, i think so. don’t you agree, chuuya?” the shorter man nodded in agreement.

dazai was the first to move, his hand that was on your cheek drifting down to your shoulder as he eased you further into the bed. you complied, wide eyes glancing between the two.

your back hit the cushioned mattress, dazai joined you on the bed, laying on his side as he peered down at your chest that held your racing heart. you saw chuuya kneel down and spread your legs further apart.

they both worked simultaneously, dazai undressing your top half while chuuya worked on the bottom. the feeling of their fingers grazing your skin left you overwhelmed, completely at their expense.

you were fully undressed in a matter of seconds, the cold air of the night nipped at your skin. suddenly feeling insecure you attempted to reach your arms down to cover yourself, dazai caught them, pinning them at your sides.

“don’t hide, beautiful. let us see you.” he whispered, his words holding authority that urged you to comply, you did.

chuuya’s breath fanned over your exposed cunt, shaky short lived breaths that told you he was just as nervous as you were.

“are you ready?” you nodded, closing your eyes in anticipation.

you felt his tongue make contact with your slit, a constricted moan left your lips out of instinct. dazai’s rough hand grabbed hold of your chin, forcing you to look in his eyes.

his warm brown eyes held a sinister glint in them. he dipped his head into your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin around your collarbone.

the noticeable contrast between the two showed, chuuya’s sweet licks to your pussy against dazai’s rough sucking to your neck. a mixture of pleasure in pain, the perfect balance.

chuuya made work of your cunt, acting as if he’d never get the chance to taste you again. his tongue darting in and out of your hole at a rapid speed you could barely keep up with. his mouth attacked your clit next, sucking on the bundle of nerves.

“chu.. ah!” he added a finger to your hole, curling the digit inside of you to hit the places he couldn’t reach otherwise.

he could tell you were reaching your peak, keeping a steady pace to bring you over the edge.

dazai could tell too, so he pushed chuuya away from you.

you whined at the loss of contact, gripping dazai’s shirt as a weak attempt to beg for more. you caught sight of chuuya, your juices all over his chin. he shamelessly licked the finger that was previously inside of you.

“can’t let him give you your first orgasm, beautiful.” chuuya bit back a snarky comment, instead listening to the painful erection in his pants.

“switch me places.” dazai spoke, chuuya agreed with little hesitation.

dazai was now by your legs and chuuya sitting behind your head. the brunette was quick to flip you on your back and position you just where he wanted. your ass now in the air with him lazily rubbing his clothed erection against your ass.

your head dangerously close to chuuya’s crotch, your shaking hands gripping both of his thighs. while dazai took off his pants you hastily aided chuuya with his.

dazai wasted little time, aligning himself with your entrance. his hands gripping your ass while he began with his first thrust, one reaching so deep he nearly bottomed out. a grunt left your lips, squeezing chuuya’s sensitive thighs as a way to stabilize yourself.

you felt chuuya’s soft hands reach for your hair, massaging your head whilst shushing your whimpers that escaped with each thrust dazai threw into your aching cunt.

once a rhythm was found you put your focus on chuuya’s painfully hard member. his eyes on yours the entire time as he watched you lick the base of his manhood until you reached the tip. he guided your head down his cock, small praises leaving his lips the entire time.

“our pretty girl, being such a useful slut.” dazai spoke, landing a smack on your ass.

you attempted to moan but your lips were occupied, drool escaping your mouth with every thrust chuuya delivered into your throat.

the speed of their thrusts beginning to synchronize, you felt your core squeezing dazai harder. it only encouraged him, knowing you were close to your peak.

it was all so overwhelming, bringing tears to your eyes as you attempted to take it all, to take all that dazai and chuuya gave you.

“so pretty.. taking us so well.” chuuya mumbled, wiping tears that began spilling from your eyes.

he looked at you as if you were the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen, despite your hair being a mess and your eyes being red from tears.

you were all close, that much was clear from the way dazai had began to shut up and chuuya’s silent grunts had turned into breathless moans. you were no better, one hand still resting on chuuya’s thigh while the other reached for one of dazai’s hands.

dazai’s hips sped up, squeezing your hand tenderly whenever he hits particularly deep.

he feels his orgasm creeping up on him, your tight walls leaving him a shaky mess.

he’s the first to come undone, his seed spilling into you with one finally push of his hips. his orgasm setting off chuuya, cumming into your warm mouth with a slew of curses leaving his lips.

you swallow every drop, chuuya wiping your mouth with his thumb before lifting your head up to plant a kiss on your lips. dazai still thrusting inside you, overstimulating himself to get you to your breaking point.

“m’ cumming!” you announced, heat pooling in your stomach.

“let go, belladonna.” and you did, cumming hard on his cock.

the room was filled with panting sighs and beating chests as you all collected yourselves. chuuya was the first to move, scrambling to his bathroom to grab a towel to clean you up. dazai cuddled you on the bed while chuuya cleaned you off, dazai stroking your hair whilst humming you to sleep.

you refused to let the tiredness take hold of you until both men were in the bed with you. when chuuya joined, you finally gave in to the sleep that was calling you.

you had never slept better, feeling safe in the arms of two strangers who had become regulars in your life.

[maxsimagination]

𝙘𝙤𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨' 𝙙𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧 - 𝙥.𝙗𝙪𝙚𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙨

summary: paige meets yn for the first time, but has no idea that she’s her coaches daughter

-> r is geno’s daughter, i know he’s like 70 but for the sake of the story let’s pretend that he has a younger daughter (26)

• part 1 • part 2 •

𖦹 masterlist

𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗛𝗔𝗗 never felt better.

after two years studying abroad in spain, i was finally back home. i could see my family again, my dad again. he had no clue i was coming back now, he thought i was still overseas and he wouldn’t see me for another month.

i knew he was at uconn, i was studying my degree there and he was the women’s basketball coach. so i thought the best way to surprise him would be to show up at one of his practices. mom had given me the times of his practices, with the promise of making someone record his reaction to seeing me back for the first time.

i walk down to the gymnasium, hearing the light sounds of shoes squeaking from running on the court.

the doors to the arena are open, i walk in and the first thing i spot is my dad, his back to me and yelling instructions to a team of really tall girls.

the second thing i see is a six foot, hot, blonde woman. i knew who she was, paige bueckers is unmissable. and she was staring directly at me.

instead of approaching either of the two, i decide to sit on the bleachers for a bit and observe the practice. since i was in the states for my last year of studies, i might have to start coming to more of dad’s practices.

to spend time with him of course, and definitely not to see paige.

geno shouts at the players to take a water break and next thing i know, paige is walking straight at me.

“hey.”

“hi.”

i don’t know what else to say, it’s the paige bueckers talking to me.

“i haven’t seen you around here before, what’s your name?”

“i’m yn.”

“nice to meet you, i’m paige.”

“you looked good out there, paige”

the taller girl grinned down at me, and we got to taking for a bit. that was before geno called them all back from their break. paige left me with a wink and a promise to come speak again after practice. i held her to that and waited until they were finished before standing up.

my dad was yet to realise that i’d been here the whole time, and i was waiting for the right time.

when he told all the girls he’d see them tomorrow for practice again, i started walking towards him.

“hey dad.”

he whipped around at my voice and his eyes landed on me. i stood there grinning, waiting for him to say something. there were multiple players watching on, including paige, who didn’t know that i was their coaches’ daughter.

“yn, you’re back?”

“i’m back, dad.”

he didn’t say anything back, just swept me up in a giant hug.

i hugged him back as much as i could, even though he was taller than me by quite a bit. you’d think that being the daughter of tall parents would mean passing down the tall genes, but apparently my siblings took them all. so i was left to stand at only five-foot-eight.

that meant that almost the entire women’s basketball team towered over me. speaking of, when geno finally put me down, the first person i turned to was paige who stood directly behind me the whole time.

“surprise.”

i grinned up at her, and tried to hold back my laughter at her shocked expression.

“damn, coaches’ daughter? i guess i can’t take you out on a date now.”

she feigns sadness and i laugh out loud.

“what can i say, rules are meant to be broken.”

her faux sadness turned into a wolfish grin.

“i always was more of a rule breaker.”

i grabbed my phone out of my pocket then, pulling up a fresh contact.

“put your number in. i’ll text you.”

paige didn’t hesitate to type in her contact, handing my phone back to me in record time.

“i’ll look forward to it, pretty girl.”

i could feel my cheeks blush at the pet name, before i gave a small wave and followed my dad over to where he was just finishing gathering his things and leaving.

it was later that afternoon when i decided to bite the bullet and send paige a message.

to: paige

hey it’s yn, i’m free this friday if you are?

i didn’t expect a reply back so quickly but within the minute, my phone had vibrated multiple times.

from: paige

hey pretty girl

i’ve got practice @ 10, but we could go for a late lunch if that’s okay with you?

to: paige

sounds good, i’ll see you then ;)

never in my life did i think i’d be going on a date with the paige bueckers.

[glitterjay]

I’m begging for part two of gynaecologist!sunghoon 😦

⭒ protected sex, down bad sunghoon, he does all the work, pussy drunk, situationship, cussing, suggestive content mdni

⭒ c's note: gynecologist hoon is doing something to me... p.s pt.1 is here. reblogs are appreciated!

⭒ taglist (open): @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @enhabooks @jaylaxies

it had been around five months since you made your appointments with the gynecologist, specifically requesting sunghoon to be the doctor attending to you. in the passage of that time, you both had been hooking up in that office after your checkups, and it just stayed like that. you had established that you did not want anything serious, and hoon was fine with that as long as you let him keep touching your body.

you had found out that he was a perv. he would rail you up while he was doing your monthly checkups and then use the excuse that you were needy and that he, as a good man and doctor, should help you. he also reassured you that he did not do this with other patients. there was just something about you that had him obsessed. all of his "attributes" were reserved for you, his favorite patient.

and that explains why you were laying with your back flat on his desk as sunghoon aligned the tip of his cock with your entrance. it was different this time, and your excitement had you pooling with arousal. it was usually him fingering you or eating you out, but he had finally broken. he was going to do what he had been longing to do this entire time, and you were going to be able to feel him in you.

the condom around his cock felt cold against your skin, making you shiver. sunghoon was already groaning at how tightly you were swallowing just the tip. it was a feeling that only fed his obsession with you and your body. he felt like he could go crazy, resisting the urge to just ram into you without mercy.

he was staying calm for your own sake, soothingly massaging your hip to ease the pain of getting stretched by his fat cock. "you're taking me in so- mhm! so well."

once you gave him a green light to move, he went on with almost everything he had. almost because if he went with full force, he'd break you in half. "feels just as good as i fucking imagined."

sunghoon was sweet in general, giving you presents and insisting on getting you jewelry as a thank-you. you were spoiled even though all you did was hook up with him once a month. he always said he had to do the work and that all you had to do was feel good.

but after five full months of feeling your walls tighten around his fingers and tongue, the desire to feel his dick being swallowed whole by your walls grew and grew.

sunghoon covered your mouth with his hand, noticing how high and loud your moans had become. he had learned this was your sign of getting close to your release.

his thrusts became hard and fast, trying to align his own release with yours. "hoon, i- fuck! i can't hold it!"

"let it go, princess. show me how good I made you feel."

his deep and hoarse voice threw you over the edge. your head threw back, eyes rolled back as your hands held his arms, holding your hip. with one last thrust, sunghoon pushed his own hip as hard as he could, having the tip of his cock touch a sensitive spot that sent your body into a spasming spiral.

he came in the condom, throwing his head back as he kept you in place with his strong arms. he was quick to pull out, getting the condom off and tying a knot to throw it in his trash can. he kissed your thighs all the way to your tummy, causing you to sigh with every touch.

rhe aftercare was always nice. he would wash you up, again not letting you do anything. he'd dress you back up and let you have a moment to compose yourself before walking out as if nothing had happened.

"i'll see you next month, sweetheart."

© glitterjay | tumblr

[lokis-army-77]

Live from Hawkins

Older!Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Eddie watched as you are stood up on a date and without a second thought, he brings you home.

Warning: 18+. Eddie is in his late 50s to early 60s, reader is 20s to early 30s. p in v, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, sir kink, pet names, a few spanks, fingering, mention of a partner having died.

A/n: Thank you @munson-blurbs for hyping me up to write this and for thinking of the funny little thing that happens at the end hehe, I love you <3 also my version older!eddie is inspired by @ farmerusedto on tiktok and Instagram.

Masterlist  Part 2

The fun of nightlife had escaped Eddie when his biological clock started making him go to bed at 8:30 p.m. instead of 2 a.m., but tonight was an exception. After an extraordinarily shitty day, he thought a drink or two at his old haunt would cheer him up. It didn’t, not entirely. The whisky he had been nursing tasted like shit and the crowd in the bar left little to be desired, except for you. 

Eddie had clocked you when you entered the establishment at eight on the dot. His eyes raked over the pretty silky red dress that stuck to the curves of your body as you made your way to a tiny circular table with two chairs and sat down. Your head was held high as you watched the front door. 

Ah, a date, He thought. Then he began thinking about all the dates he had been on in the long past years until he had met his wife, and then the lack thereof after her passing twenty-some years ago. He’s never had time to date. Raising kids two kids as a single dad while also being a simi-successful musician turned producer, looking for romance added a whole new thing to worry about so he just didn’t, but now, in his later years of life, with his children grown and moved out, he could afford the chance to indulge. Sadly though, you were apparently taken. 

Even after he had finished his one glass of alcohol, he waited. Watching you as your posture slowly became slouched, you sipped on some fancy beverage, and your head stopped peaking up when the bell to the door chimed as it was opened and closed. You were beautiful and didn’t deserve to be stood up.

When the clock struck nine, Eddie stretched his aching joints and stood from the bar. Sauntering his way over to your tiny table.

“This seat taken?” He asked, hand resting on the back of the chair. 

You lifted your head from your phone startled and shook your head. “Unfortunately, no. You can take it.” Sighing, you look back down at your phone, expecting him to take the lone chair and pull it up to another table. To your surprise, he actually sat down in front of you. “Um… can I help you?” 

“Sorry, I just saw you sitting here by yourself for a while and thought you might like the company. A pretty girl like you in a pretty dress like that shouldn’t be sitting alone in a bar like this, some weirdo could show up.”

You blush, almost as red as your dress. “And how do I know you aren’t the weirdo?” 

“Good question. You don’t.” He laughed.

The deep timber of it had your stomach flipping. His facial features were hidden under a nicely kept beard, full of salt and pepper hairs, more salt than anything else. The shaggy, slightly curly hair atop his head looked the same. He was definitely older than you by a couple of decades, but hey he was nice looking and obviously, the guy you were supposed to be seeing wasn’t coming. What harm could come from flirting with this guy?

“But hey, a bit of mystery can be a good thing, don’t you think?” He asks. 

You can't help the giggle that passes your lips. “Oh, really?” You look him up and down. His outfit was something reminiscent of the eighties, only more subdued. Tight black jeans, motorcycle boots, and an Iron Maiden shirt that had been ripped at the hem. Before he had sat down you even spotted a black and white skull bandana in his back pocket. “I’ve heard that with age comes wisdom. Are you here to enlighten me then?”

He lets out a more hearty laugh this time, his head falling back. Your eyes scan the contours of his neck and watch as his Adam's apple bobs up and down. “I don’t know about wisdom, but I do have a few decades under my belt. Maybe I was the one hoping to learn a little thing or two from such a charming young lady as yourself. 

Your hand lifts to cover your smile and you look away almost bashfully. “Such a smooth talker aren’t you?” 

“As smooth as I can be…” He leans forward, hand resting on the table, fingers laced together. You see the many rings decorating them. The flip in your stomach drops and you clench your thighs together. “Why? Is my charm winning you over?”

“So that’s what you’re trying to do, huh?” You smile. 

“Well, it was either that or all the vintage dad jokes I know.” He smiles back. 

You can feel your mood being lifted from the once sour thing that it was into something more bubbly as you listen to him. “Vintage dad jokes? Sound’s intriguing. Maybe I’ll stick around for now.” 

He nods. “That’s a good choice Sweetheart. Who could resist the allure of outdated humor and a bit of gray hair?” His hand tugs at his beard. 

“You know, I could be out having an adventure with the guy I was supposed to be meeting here instead of chatting with a silver fox.” There is a permanent grin etched into your face as he gasps in faux offense. 

“You wound me, Sugar.  Isn’t it usually the unexpected adventures that turn into something unforgettable?” Eddie couldn’t lie to himself, he was laying it on pretty thick, but it was all in hopes that maybe, just maybe you might come home with him. 

“Well, I do have to admit you are intriguing, maybe I’ll take you up on this adventure.” It was childish, the way your heel-clad foot slid its way past the single, center leg of the table and halfway up the man’s calf. 

When he feels your foot rubbing on him, he has to steel his face. One of his hands slipped from the table and slithered its way down his leg and caught your foot. “What do you say we get out of here?” His hands were so big and his fingers so long that they wrapped with ease around your ankle. The pads of his fingers pressed in gently and you hoped he couldn’t feel how fast your pulse were thumping throughout your body. 

Your mouth suddenly turned dry, words evaded you. All you could do was nod in response. He let go of your foot and stood, reaching out his hand. You take it and he pulls you up as well. “My name’s Eddie by the way.” 

…

The drive to Eddie’s suburban home was filled with chase touches and lingering hands. His large palm warmed your thigh, his fingers dug into the plushness there. You cozied up to him, lips trailing up his neck to his ear where you nibbled on the lobe. 

Eddie groaned as he white-knuckled the steering wheel. His breath caught in his throat when you inched a delicate hand into his lap. 

“Now, little girl, don’t be starting something you can’t finish.” He chided. His hand on your thigh moved ever closer to the already high hem of your dress. 

“Little girl?” you whisper into his ear. “I’m not a little girl, old man.”

You feel every bump and jerk of his 1960s Ford pickup as he practically jumps the curb and slams the brakes in his driveway, screeching to a halt. Eddie unfastened his seatbelt and turned to you. His hand immediately found purchase on the back of your neck and he pulled you in for a kiss. His lips were soft and plump and his beard tickled. You giggled into the kiss but that was cut short when they turned to gasps as soon as Eddie caressed his tongue into your mouth. 

“Eddie…” You moan into him, fingers latched onto his shirt, pulling him into you. 

“What is it, Sweetheart?” He pulled away from the kiss. 

You looked him in his eyes, the street lamp outside aiding in deepening their already dark hue. “Touch me. Need you to touch me.” 

He smirked. “Alright baby, I’ll touch you.” 

Then, he backed away, hooking you from himself and slipping out the door. A pout worked its way onto your features as he walked around and opened your door. Tisking he shook his head. “What’s the frown for sugar?” 

You took his outstretched hand, he was ever the gentleman. “You stopped kissing me.” 

Leaning down he gave you a sloppy peck on the lips. “Well, I can't touch you how you want, Sweetheart, unless we go inside.” He chortled as he guided you to his front door. As soon as the lock was undone and the knob twisted, you pushed the two of you inside. You were hot and worked up and needed something to help the pounding ache that had made itself known between your thighs. 

Inside, you try your best to tug Eddie’s shirt up and over his head but he is quick to catch your hands, pushing you back against the wall and holding them above your head. 

“Not so fast. You’ve got to ask for the things that you want.” 

You shake your head in defiance. You knew where this was going from the way he gripped your wrists. From the way his voice became stricter, more dominant. Need pools in the pit of your stomach. This was what you had been craving, what no other man could make you feel. 

“Please.” Your plea comes out just above a whisper. 

“Tsk, Sweetheart, I think you can do better than that.” Eddie maneuvers both your wrists into the hold of one hand while he lets the fingers of his other run down the open skin of your neck tantalizingly slowly. Goosebumps begin to prickle on your skin as the fingers wander down your chest and over the tops of your breasts, cleavage on display, heaving as you take sharp breaths of air. 

“Please, Eddie.” Voice cracking. “Please, I want you. I want you to touch me, I want to feel you.” 

He groans, hips pressing you to the wall harder. “What a good girl you are.” He captures your lips in another heated kiss.

The night had barely begun and you already felt like you were drowning in him. The scent of menthol cigarettes, whisky, and something almost woody filled your nose and all you could think of was the man pinning you to the wall.

A staggered gasp caught in your throat when Eddie dropped your wrists and heaved you up by the waist. Your legs cinched around him and his arms held you close. “Why don’t we take this to my room? I can put some nice mood music on.” He kissed up your neck as he carried you through his home. 

“Mood music, hum?” You whimper when he sucks on a sensitive spot. “What, gonna play the Temptations greatest hits? Or how about the Chordettes? Don’t they have that song with your name in it?” 

You yelp when his hand smacks your ass. “M’not that old, Sweetheart. It’s more like eighties rock ballads but that’s not what I’m choosing.” The smirk that contoured his lips was wicked. 

“Mmm, and how old are you?” You ask, words muffled by your lips meeting his. 

“Old enough.” Eddie pushes his door open and it hits the wall with a thud. He walks to his bed in the darkness and practically throws you on top of the sheets. He doesn’t follow, instead, he flips the bedside lamp on and the room fills with a soft yellow light. 

His room isn’t what you thought it would be. It's all dark colors, blacks and grays. Three electric guitars hang like decorations on the wall in front of you. A few picture frames are scattered over the dresser to your left, too far to see the images clearly in the dim light. You watch him like a hawk as he walks to that very dresser and turns on a speaker. 

He really wasn’t kidding about the mood music. You think. 

“Get comfortable Sugar… Just got to figure out this damn phone.” You chuckle as you watch him fiddle with the touchscreen and cheer when the music fills the silence. You laugh even louder when Eddie fumbles the phone in his hands and drops it to the floor. “Shit.” He bends down to pick it up and when he does he props it against the mirror of the dresser. 

“Is it okay?” You ask, hand covering the giant smile plastered on your face. 

“It’ll live.” He shakes his head. When the giggles die down, he slowly comes toward you, crawling up the bed. The way his hands travel up your bare legs gives you chills. He pries you open gently, your dress hikes up your thighs, and the wetness of your pussy is on full display. 

“Well, aren’t you a naughty girl… No panties?” He asks, hot breath on the inside of your thigh as he nips at the skin. 

You shake your head as you explain. “No, not wearing a bra either. You can see the outline through the dress” 

He grins a devilish grin and slowly teases his way up your thigh. The hot air from his breath caresses your skin white his beard tickles you. He pushes back your dress a little more before looking you in the eyes. “Ready?”

The whine that comes from you is almost unrecognizable, all desperate and needy when his mouth attaches itself to your pretty cunt. Your hand flies to his head, gripping his silky hair between stiff fingers. 

“Fuck. E-Eddie.” You rasp. He hums the vibrations add to the cacophony of pleasurable feelings between your legs. 

Eddie’s tongue rolls along your folds, wetting every inch of skin. The gentle sucks he performs on your clit pull moan after moan from you. Your back arches and your hips push down into the bed. Eddie’s hands push your thighs farther apart, the plush of them pooling through his spread fingers. 

He loves the feel of you. Loves that he can make you writhe under him with just his tongue. His ego is through the roof, having not been this intimate with someone in years. 

It's been all but a few minutes, to you its been hours, Eddie is expertly working you up up up and to the edge. One hand smoothes down your leg and under his chin. You feel the subtle touches of his fingers as they linger around your cunt. His other hand pushes your leg back more, creating more room. You heave a cry when two fingers breach you, stretching you out at a leisurely pace. 

In and out, in and out, in and out he went, fucking you deeply with those long thick fingers of his, covered in rings. The metal soon became warm as they began to be covered in your slickness and his spit that dribbled down to meet them.

With the way his fingers pushed up into your walls, poking the fire in your belly. The ember that it once was, was not a full-on flame. It was wild and hot and needed something more to feed on. 

“Eddie!” You cried, clamping down around him. Body ridged, ready to let go. 

“That’s right baby, say my fucking name.” He pulled back only to reattach to your clit and pump his fingers tenfold. 

His words were tender to the flame, making it rage out of control. “Eddie!” You cried again, wonton moans following as you feel the fire spreading. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you chant like a prayer. 

He’s greedy as he laps up every ounce of your release, you have to push him away gently, too sensitive for him to keep going but the crooked smirk he gives you as he kisses up your body tells you he wants more. 

Your breathing is rapid as you come down. Your legs feel like jello and you’re hot, super hot. The fire in your veins had rekindled and the dress, conforming to your body, was becoming uncomfortable in the heat. 

Eddie can see the way you tug at the garment and gives it a tug of his own. “I hate to see this little number go but I need to see all of you.” He manhandles you onto your stomach, snatching the tiny red zipper and pulling it down to reveal the soft skin of your back. 

His hands rub into your muscles, thumbs catching on knots and smoothing them out. It was intimate, something you had never experienced in a one-night stand. He removed the tiny straps from your shoulders and kneaded until you were sighing contently into his sheets. Lower and lower he went, tugging the fabric with him and eventually taking it off, throwing it into the abyss. Rough fingers squeezed at the fat of your ass. 

Unknowingly, Eddie had bent down, and as he was massaging you bit down playfully on your ass cheek. A weak squeal erupts from your throat. “Eddie, what are you doing?” 

“I can’t help it if you look good enough to eat.” He bites down again and you buck your hips back. A hand quickly smacks down on your ass. “Quit being a brat. First not asking for what you want and now this? What am I going to do with you?”  Condescension drips thickly from his words. 

You wiggle your hips in his grasp. “M’sorry.” 

Another smack. “I’m sorry what?” 

The fire burns brighter with this fuel.

“I’m sorry, Eddie.”

He spanks you a third time. “Try again, baby.”

Your stomach flips. “I’m sorry… Sir.”

He hums in satisfaction. His hands wrap around you and pull you to your knees, ass in the air. With your head buried in the covers, you can only guess what he’s doing by the subtle movements behind you. 

Eddie has taken his shirt off and unzipped his pants. His cock achingly hard and straining against his black boxers. “Gonna fuck this pussy good, baby.” You whimper in response. He shickers, “You like that, Sweetheart? You want my cock in that pretty pussy of yours?” 

“Please,” You mewl, aching to finally have him inside you. The roughness of his hand steadies you as he inches closer. His hard cock on the other hand. He presses it against your folds, the head slipping through easily. You release a shaky breath when he nudges your clit. “Need you inside, please Sir.”

“Gonna give it to you baby,” Eddie replies, pushing into you. His breathing shudders at the warmth surrounding him. Your cunt squeezes him tightly, sucking him in and not letting him go. 

He feels amazing stretching you out. He's bigger than you thought, wider. The tip pushes into your walls as he begins to thrust into you, the most wonderful grunts and growls filling your ears from behind. 

"So fucking tight, Sugar." Eddie fucks into you at a hard brushing pace with stamina you didn't know he had. His hands grip your hips so hard you know there will be visible marks there later but you don't mind. 

You turn your head slightly and look over your shoulder as best you can. Eddie has a wild look in his eye, streaks of gray hair falling into his face. Your eyes catch on the plethora of ink etching his skin. You had seen the ones covering his arms but you couldn't have imagined this. Your mind wandered to what the rest of his body looked like. We're there more pieces yet to be seen or did alabaster skin win out as you go further down his body? The thought of seeing the rest of him has you bouncing your ass back into him, meeting his every thrust with fervor. 

The fire Eddie had lit within you was once again roaring out of control. The way his cock filled you deep has you shaking in delight. 

"More, more, more," you called out to him, fists clamping down onto his sheets so hard it was a wonder you hadn't ripped them. 

“More? Is that what you want?” He patronizes. His right hand moves from your hip and he bends forward, snatching your hair up at the base of your skull. The dull throb that accompanies his tight hold has you wailing. Your stomach flips and flips, pressure building up. You’re going to cum and you tell him as much. 

“Please, keep going Eddie, fuck. Keep going, I’m gonna cum, Sir.” Big blubbery tears have started to streak down your face, once pristine makeup now smeared. 

He pulls on your hair. ‘Don’t cum baby. Wanna watch that pretty face as you cum on my cock.” 

Eddie pulls out of you and it feels like forever until you are flipped onto your back and he inserts himself back inside. The new angle has your legs clamping shut around him and the head of his cock brushing against a sensitive spot which makes you keen into him.

You make eye contact with him, his gaze is feral. He’s looking at you like you’re a buffet laid out for him. His hips rock into you with such force that your body is slowly jerking up the bed. You reach out for him, hands open and close, needing to have him close to you. That fire is still burning within you and it is scorching. 

Eddie leans into your touch, relishing in the feeling of your nails dragging long scratches down his pecks and stomach. He catches one, entwining his fingers with yours and pinning your hand back into the mattress. Another intimate moment that had butterflies erupting alongside your fire. 

“Please,” you whimper. “Wanna cum so bad.” 

He leans down more, pressing a chased kiss on your lips. “Alright Sweet girl, you can cum.” 

When you let go, Eddie can’t help the absolutely hedonistic moan that comes forward. He’s rutting into your constricting cunt like an animal. The look of absolute ecstasy that washes over your face had him fighting off his own release. 

“Where do you want it, Baby? Where do you want my cum?” 

It’s absolutely crazy, the place that comes to mind, but some deep, dark, nefarious place inside you wants it so badly. Craves is. 

Without thinking, brain foggy with a greediness only comparable to the deadly sin itself, you blurt, “Inside.” 

Eddie’s hips stutter and his mind goes blank. Inside? Fuck, She wants it inside. He groans, fighting himself. He shouldn’t but he wants to. Oh, how he wants to. Thoughts of what your pussy would look like leaking his cum have him going ridged, his conscience losing out against a primal need he didn’t know he had. 

“Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck ah!” He’s a moaning mess when he finally gives in and lets himself cum. 

You can feel his release as a warmth spreads out from your tummy and envelopes you. Eddie falls careful not to let all of his weight squish you. His kisses make you giggle as you try and catch your breath. 

You’re exhausted, warn out in a way you never have been. “Thank you,” you say, kissing him back. He looked at you with soft, round eyes.

“Why are you thanking me, Sweetheart?” 

You sigh, content. “You saved me from a night of wallowing in my self-pity.”

He shakes his head. “Beautiful girl like you deserves to be treated right, that guy’s a bastard.” 

“Tha-” You’re cut off by the loud ringing of his phone, still connected to the speaker.  Eddie cringes at the volume and turns slightly to eye the phone but does not move to get up. It stops ringing a moment after. 

“I think I should get going…” You whisper and give him another kiss. 

“Mmm, you could stay the night. I can take you back to your car tomorrow.” 

You pout at him. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“Sweetheart, I’m asking you to stay, you aren't imposing on anything.” 

You giggle and go to answer but you are interrupted by his phone ringing again. Eddie says quietly, “What the hell?” before pulling himself out of you. He hesitates a moment, watching as his cum leaks past the puffy, used lips of your cunt, then grabs at his phone. 

‘HARRINGTON’ Is flashing across the screen. 

“What do you want man? I’m in the middle of something.” 

Eddie still has his phone connected to the speaker and the next few sentences make Your smile fall and your face bloom into a heat that could rival the sun. 

“Oh, I know you are. Half the fucking world does you dipshit!” 

“Wow okay Steve, calm down. No need for name-calling.”

“Eddie I swear to god, do you know what you’ve just done?” 

“No…?” Eddie scratches his head, looking at you and shrugging his shoulders. 

“You just fucking broadcasted you having fucking sex LIVE on fucking Facebook!”

[3cremepie3]

"Upsy daisy"

Sypnopsis - Bachira pushes your body past normal limits taking a unusual role in the bedroom.

Warnings - Smut 18+, Bachira Meguru x fem reader, sub/ Dom dynamics, dirty talk, creampies, unprotected sex, squirting, overstimulation

a/n - This is my intro into the BL community I'm so happy! I love Bachira he's so adorable. I hope you enjoy remember my requests are open!

“If you keep going ill make a mess again.” You warned to no avail. This was you third orgasm and it was around that time your body finally lets itself go. But Bachira continued that infamous tongue that he liked to tease everyone with working your body.

There was nothing you could do but take the attack by his wet muscle. Your whole body tensed at the overstimulation except for your mind which felt empty. You thoughts filled with nothing but pleasure as he flicked your clit over and over.

The pile of spit and your cum was growing larger and larger against the bed sheets. You arched your back letting out a moan you were holding since you first held your breath. Bachira chuckled at your reaction his laugh sounding as sinister as the jokers in your fucked out state.

You soon knew that you would release something other then the sweet cream Bachira loved to lick out of your pulsating hole. You would spray all over his wide grin and he would look like not only the happiest but messiest boy in the world.

He didn't mind the change of aesthetic wanting to bring that affliction of so much pleasure it became impossible for your mind to keep up. “Y/n?? Babycakes you with me.” One of his free hands that wasn't the one squeezing your thighs to keep you grounded waved in your face.

He had to make sure his doll was still in this world so you could orgasm correctly. “Hello fuckface?” He plucked your forehead and stopped his actions. Your hands quickly interlocked with his black and yellow strands twisting so he could never escape.

Even without you verbally saying so he knew you were ready. Your body which used to reject his antics now rolled happily on his tongue. Your lips which used to glisten with drool from your pure stupidity now spewed love filled whispers.

“Love you so much Megu! You feel so good. Fuck yes right there. I don't think i cant take it anymore!” No, don't back away.” And you would shove his face that just wanted to inhale back into your eager heat. Your whines filled the air and if anyone were to walk past your dormitory they would know just what was happening.

Especially when that last nerve snapped in you pushing you to finish. Your trembling thighs smashed his head into your pussy until you felt him tap your thigh for mercy. Bachira felt as though he could stay in this position all day if he chose too. But today was one of those nights when he had to get inside of you.

Sex with Meguru was always fun. You guys stuck to your natural positions of him subbing and you doming. But something was different tonight. “Upsy daisy here we go!” He picked up your limp body so he could hold you in his arms. After so many orgasms you were under the assumption that he would bring you to take a warm bath. But those thoughts were broken as you felt his wide mushroom tip line up with your hungry hole.

“You can't claim you're tired when you're gripping me so nicely. I can see it in your eyes that you still want to go,” he claimed. You swore if you looked in the mirror you would probably see yourself fucked up with eyebags. But he always had a way at spotting hidden things almost as if he saw something different in you entirely.

His assumptions were always correct as you again felt worked up all over again. You looked down to the place where you and Bachira met. Down his abs and V line to the base of his cock which was covered in your slick. As he thrusted forward licking your ear and sending shockwaves through your body the sounds of your wetness filled the room.

Your heavy pants painted his back as you rested your thoughtless head on his shoulder. Each movement of his made your body jolt into his athletic build. Meguru thanked god that he built up all that muscle now he was able to pick up your body as though it was light as a feather. He kissed down your neck trying to distract you from the fact that he was about to nut in you.

All that waiting patiently got to him. “Been letting you feel good this whole time while I had to let my cock sit in my briefs basically drooling for ya’, it's unfair if i dont cum inside,” he pouted. Bachira was a spoiled brat so of course you let him have his way.

He painted your walls white and the fullness and sounds of the plap plap of your mixed fluids caused you to squirt. His cock jack hammering you while doing so allowed you to explode everywhere.

“Haha that's my good girl.” He let out that stupid face of his until it twisted into gentleness. He placed you down on the bed admiring his work. Your clit was still twitching cutely and your hole was fluttering out what he gave you. “”You were so amazing. I knew I could push you harder and harder. How about we see how many times you can cum from my creampies?”

“Looks like you can handle it. Your womb has more room for cum. Come on now, upsy daisy!”

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: A New World {1}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: With the season over it's time to turn over a new leaf as you start your next adventure outside the Red Bull family. Warnings: 18+ only, sexual themes, fluff, periods, blood, vomit WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two

Christmas Eve 2022 “I could get used to this,” you murmured happily. The sun was warm on your skin, the waves gently rocked the boat and you were with your favourite people in the world. 

“What, unemployment?”

You dared to open your eyes against the bright sunlight just to glare at Max as he stood on a paddleboard a few feet away from the edge. “Relaxing, you asshat.”

Lando rolled over at the disturbance but his eyes didn’t open before he settled back on his side and draped an arm over your stomach. “She’s got a job,” he mumbled half-asleep. “Lady of the House.”

“Lady,” Max snorted. “Good one.”

You sat up and stretched before getting to your feet, much to Lando’s displeasure. “Water looks nice.”

Max scanned the beautiful blue sea, spotting Charles kitesurfing where the wind was stronger beyond the lee. “It’s a little cold.”

“Even better.” You ran and leapt from the back of his boat, tackling him around the waist and knocking him off the paddleboard and into the frigid water. You were laughing as you resurfaced and found Max looking like a drowned rat as he tried to scramble back onto his board. 

“Fuck off,” he shivered as you shook the board everytime he got on it, Lando’s loud laugh upsetting the gulls that hung around hoping for scraps. 

“Nuh-uh, not until you admit I am a Lady.” You grabbed the board again and shoved it about. “Earthquake!”

“Sweetheart, stop harassing poor Max.” 

“Poor Max?” You echoed as you gave him one last push before tipping your head back to float on the surface. “I can’t believe my mum’s favourite child isn’t even her own.”

“I don’t have a favourite,” she said as she set down a tray of baking at the outdoor table, P quickly following as she smelt the fresh cookies.

“You should, since you only have me, your numero uno.”

She rolled her eyes at your dramatics and you wondered if that's how you looked when you did the same thing. “Come and eat, honey. Now that you have no job there’s no need for those strict diets.”

You pulled yourself up the steps off the back of the boat and Lando held your towel open for you, wrapping it tightly in his arms so you were bundled inside. “I have a job,” you said with a laugh as Lando’s drying tickled you.

“That’s not a job,” Max reminded as he stepped onto the boat and dragged the paddleboard onto the deck.

“Obviously. But, seriously, you are looking at an Aston Martin pilot.”

“That’s a bit of a risk,” Max said with a frown at the news. “Lance’s father is always going to put him ahead of you.”

“Well as long as he doesn’t try to kill me then it’s already an improvement,” you said with a small laugh.

Max sat heavily on the padded bench and dropped head in his hands. He was still struggling to accept that Jos had tampered with your brakes and taken the fuse for the water pump before your last race. He had been obsessed with having the Verstappen name on the winners trophy. 

Apparently he hadn’t tried to kill you, he was just trying to slow you down so Max would get the points he needed to win the championship. The brakes were meant to work too well, not stop working entirely. It didn’t change the fact that your own father had nearly been the death of you. 

“That’s not funny, love,” Lando muttered in your ear, his arms tightening around you as he remembered the crash and the fear he had felt that day. 

“No, but if I don’t laugh about it I will cry, and that’s not pretty.”

“I think you’re pretty,” Penelope said with a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie.

“Thanks, P, but no one is as pretty as you,” you replied and laughed when she smiled at the compliment.

“Mouth closed when we eat,” Max reminded her with a grimace at the sight of mushed food between her teeth.

You joined her at the table, grabbing a muffin from the tray and ruffling her hair. “I’m going to miss you tomorrow but I hope you have a good Christmas with your dad.”

“Do you think Santa will find his way? My stocking is at home.” She frowned and placed her cookie down. “What if I don’t get any presents?”

“Have you been a good girl this year?” She gave you a small nod after thinking for a moment. “Then he will find you wherever you are.”

Christmas Day 2022 The palatial mansion had gone quiet as everyone went their separate ways for the evening after the banquet. There was no way any one family could have hosted the Christmas get together since there were just too many people but the island destination worked perfectly. Charles’ family had arrived on his boat while Lando’s family had flown in on Max’s plane and they were all spending the next few days celebrating the end of the year with you.

“I never want to move,” you groaned as Charles rubbed your full belly. “I shouldn’t have had that last yorkshire.”

“Maybe it was the two bowls of dessert,” he teased.

“Or the bottle of wine,” Lando added, his hands massaging your feet that rested on his lap. 

“I didn’t eat that much,” you huffed as you looked at your bloated midriff that seemed to dispute your words. “Where were you two planning on sleeping tonight? I’m sure there is a dog box somewhere on the island.”

“But then who would do this when your stomach hurts?”

You groaned as a sharp pain stabbed your abdomen and sat up. “Fuck.” Pushing off the couch you rushed to the bathroom and crumpled in front of the toilet, emptying your stomach of everything you ate before flushing the evidence away. 

“Baby?” Lando nudged the door open and frowned you as curled your knees up and groaned in pain. “You didn’t eat that much…”

“It’s not the food,” you whimpered as the cramps grew stronger and Charles arrived looking worried at your condition. “Can you run the shower?” You could feel the blood running down your thighs beneath the dress and groaned at the timing. 

“Should I call for a doctor?” Charles asked as he helped you to your feet while Lando warmed the shower. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine,” you said, squeezing his hand as you doubled over in pain. Lando blanched as he saw the red streaks running down your legs and you saw the panic in his wide eyes. “It’s just my period.”

“What do we do?” he asked. “What do you need us to do?”

You would have smiled at the rushed words if you weren’t being crushed from the inside out. “Hot shower, clean clothes, painkillers, pads, cuddles and death.”

“You mean chocolate,” Lando corrected as he pulled his shirt over his head and kicked his pants off before stepping into the shower. 

Charles didn’t give you the option to walk yourself in after, carrying you straight under the rainfall of steaming water. The heat saturated your dress and the water turned pink as it swirled around the drain at your feet.

“You guys don’t have to be here for this,” you murmured as you felt a hand dragging the zip down your spine.

“Silly Spitfire,” Lando chuckled as he reached for the special shampoo made for you, lathering it up in his hands while Charles released the updo you had styled for the dinner party. “We promised to take care of you, didn't we? So let us.”

Max grunted a good morning to Charles as he entered the kitchen on Boxing Day and made a beeline to the coffee maker. Everyone knew Lando would sleep as long as he was allowed but Max frowned when you didn’t follow Charles in, his eyes lingering on the empty doorway expectedly.

“She’s not feeling very well,” Charles said as he placed his cup under the espresso maker. Though there wasn’t the comfortable atmosphere they used to share, they were on friendly terms after finding equal footing in their support of you and how your season ended. They were friends, just not best friends.

“Ah, goodluck, mate,” Max chuckled, returning to his half empty coffee and his phone he was checking the news on. “There’s some spare rooms if you need some space.”

“Why would we need space?”

“I love my sister, but you are going to be in for hell.” He winced at the memory of spending the holidays with you when you raced for AlphaTauri. “Happens every year.”

Charles snorted and took his mug with a shake of his head. “Thanks for the concern, but we’re good.”

You woke to the smell of coffee and found Charles sitting up beside you, reading something on his phone, while Lando snored softly in your ear. You had fallen asleep with their body heat easing the ache in your muscles and they were better than any heat pack you had used before.

“Good morning, ma chérie,” he said as he placed his phone down, noticing you were awake. After helping you to sit up against the headboard he grabbed a plate from the bedside table and placed it on your lap before grabbing a glass of juice. “Plain toast and iBuprofen.”

“Breakfast of champions,” you murmured sarcastically before taking a bite and smiling softly. “Thank you, babe.”

Charles kissed your temple before handing you the tablets and drink. “It’s just because it says not to take these on an empty stomach. Once Lando is awake we can get you anything you desire, even if one of us has to pop over to the mainland.”

“I’d rather just have you.” The words had slipped out before you even realised it and you shoved another piece of toast in your mouth. “Sorry, hormones.”

Lando’s dark lashes twitched where they fanned across his cheeks before they fluttered open and he stretched as he rolled onto his back. “What about me?”

You looked down at him in confusion as he rubbed his eyes. “What about you?”

“Would you rather have me too?” he asked with a lopsided smile as he used your thigh as a pillow.

“Are you always just pretending to sleep?”

“No, I just wake up when I hear something sexy.”

 Charles laughed as he combed his fingers through the wild mess of curls. “Why does that not surprise me, mon cher.”

“Well you can go back to sleep,” you said as you passed the empty plate back to Charles. “I feel disgusting, probably look worse, and don’t even try to tell me otherwise or I will cry.”

“Agree to disagree,” they said at the same time, sharing a small laugh. 

“I still think you are the most beautiful woman in the world, love.” 

“I can see that,” you teased as you looked down at the thin sheet that covered Lando’s lap. “You know what would make me feel better? You did promise me anything.”

Charles shifted beside you and his cheeks flushed pink as his mind ran wild with tempting thoughts. “Anything at all.”

Your tongue rolled across your bottom lip at the thought and their eyes darkened with each passing second. “I want to watch you two.”

“You sure you don’t want to join us?” Lando asked as his fingertip drew small circles on your thighs.

“Isn’t that gross?” you asked as you crinkled your nose and your legs closed tighter.

“It’s just blood,” Lando chuckled. “And red is Charles' favourite colour.”

You rolled your eyes but had to give him a little laugh as he eased the tension and Charles kissed his way down to your collarbone. “There’s nothing about you I would ever call gross. And you never have to be embarrassed with us, mi amor. We just want you to be comfortable.”

You swallowed at the sincerity in his voice but still shook your head. “I’m not brave enough today.”

“Okay, love,” Lando said with a kiss to your thigh before he sat up. “Then we will have to put on a show just for you, a late Christmas present.”

Click here for the next part.

[rangerbarbz]

Serving Up Romance pt. 2

Author’s Note: Alright, y’all were eating up the first part of this. (THANK YOU SO MUCH BTW) I am so grateful for all the kind words you’ve given me about my writing. It truly makes me so happy and I enjoy writing for y’all thoroughly. I hope you enjoy this second part! 

You took a deep breath and looked at yourself in the mirror. It was time for your date with Stan, and you were more than just a little nervous. It had been so long since you had been on a date, you weren’t even sure if you knew what to do on one. Do you hold his hand? Do you kiss him? Things were different when you were at the diner. That was your safe space, and you felt more confident there. Now, it was just going to be you and him alone in a car. At night. Watching a movie. Oh, God. 

You sighed and straightened out the fabric of your second-hand dress, removing any wrinkles that were there before. “I hope he likes it,” you mumbled, running your hands through your hair. This was the first time he was going to see you out of your uniform. You sat on the edge of your bed to slip on the sandals you had dug out of your closet. He was going to be here soon. 

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. You sprung up from the bed to put on some perfume. “I’m coming!” you called out, dousing yourself in a vanilla scent you couldn’t remember the name of. You set the perfume bottle down on your nightstand and ran to the door. 

“You got this,” you whispered to yourself, turning the door knob to reveal your date standing on your welcome mat. He was facing the road but turned around when the door opened. He was wearing a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt, blue jeans, and scuffed up leather boots. His mullet was nicely styled, and he had trimmed his stubble. He flashed you a toothy smile. 

“Wow, you look foxy!” Stan complimented you, raking his eyes over you. You grinned and gave him a twirl to show off how flowy your skirt was. “Oh, I got you these by the way.” He held out a red, heart-shaped box to you. “I heard that girls like chocolates, so I wanted to surprise you with some.”

You giggled. “This girl definitely does,” you said, placing the box on the armchair of your couch. “Thank you so much.” You tilted your head at him, feeling your smile wouldn’t leave your face the entire evening. “You look so handsome, Stan Pines.” You hooked your arm around his. “I’m one lucky gal.” 

Stan laughed and you noticed a blush forming on his cheeks. “Ah, well, shucks. Thanks, toots.” He looked over at you. “But I think I’m the lucky one here. You ready to go?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

On the car ride to the drive-in theater, Stan told you about a visitor that he described as a “total nutcase.” You always enjoyed hearing him tell stories because he told every story in a way that made you feel like you were seeing the events play out right in front of your eyes. He was captivating; it was no wonder he was such a successful showman. You were so engrossed in his retelling that you didn’t notice how his arm was behind the headrest of your seat. It was such a small romantic gesture, but it made butterflies grow in your stomach all the same

You finally arrived at the entrance of the drive-in movie theater; Stan rolled down his window to pay the man at the ticket booth. “Alright, sir, park wherever you like, and turn your radio to channel 95.1. Enjoy the movie!” 

“Thanks,” Stan replied before driving into the lot. He leaned against his steering wheel, searching for a parking spot. “Damn, there’s a lot more people here than I expected.” He looked over at you with a frown. “I’m sorry, doll. I think we’ll just have to park the Diablo here. I can’t get around anyone. Is this okay?” He was hoping he hadn’t ruined the date. 

You gave him a reassuring smile. “This is okay. I promise.”

He nodded. “Alright, so that joker said 95.1.” He began fiddling with the knob of his radio to switch stations. “Bingo,” he said after he finally got it tuned correctly. “Now, this is a horror movie, so if you need to, ya know, jump into my arms if it gets too scary, I’ll be ready to catch ya.” 

You burst out laughing. “Same goes to you, Pines. I know how skittish you can be.”

Stan scoffed in response. “Please, I’m the least skittish person on the planet.” 

“THE FRIGHTENING OF OAK AVENUE WILL BEGIN NOW,” the radio blared. Stan jumped out of his skin, letting the expletives fly.

You smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay, that doesn’t count,” he grumbled.

“That’s okay,” you scooted closer to him. “It doesn’t bother me that you’re such a scaredy cat.” Stan shook his head and wrapped his arm over your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze. Oh my goodness. His arm is around you, and he smells really good. Try not to let him see how excited you are.

“Okay, that’s enough sass-mouthing, miss,” he joked. “The movie’s starting.” You giggled as your attention was brought to the screen. To be honest, you could give two shits about this movie. You couldn’t stop thinking about how comforting it was to have his arm around you. 

You didn’t know how far you were into the movie when you saw Stan out of the corner of your eye gazing at you instead of the film. You turned your head towards him, and his eyes quickly reverted back to the screen. You felt your face get warm as you continued watching the movie, but you had failed to suppress a small chuckle. 

“What?” Stan asked gruffly. 

“Nothing,” you replied coyly, leaning your head against his chest. You heard his breath hitch in his throat. “You just make me feel pretty.”

You couldn’t see his face which Stan was grateful for because he was looking like a deer in headlights. You could feel how fast his heart was beating. “You are pretty,” he responded, voice barely above a whisper. “Told ya that the first day I met you. Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

You straightened up so you could face him when you said this. “Stan, I…I have seen a lot of people walk through those diner doors.” Your nerves were starting to get the best of you. “But I have never had anyone come into that restaurant that made me feel the way you do.” You looked down and began to run your fingertips over the hem of your dress. “I just want to know if you feel the same.” 

“I-I do, Y/N,” Stan replied, stopping your hand from fidgeting by lacing his fingers through yours. “Felt that since the beginning.” He sighed. “Y/N, I know I’m not the type of guy you bring home to your parents, but… If you give me the chance, I know I can be a man you’re proud to be with.” You felt like you were about to cry.

“Oh, Stan.” You cup his face in your hands. His sad, brown eyes gazed into yours; he leaned into your touch as you caressed his cheek. “If you’ll have me, I’ll scream from the top of city hall that I’m dating Stan Pines.” 

He gave you a lopsided smile before kissing the palm of your hand; his hand was gently holding your wrist. Is this real? His face was inching towards yours. “I’m holding you to that.” His hands were now cradling your jaw, bringing your lips to his. They were soft and sure against yours; your eyelids fluttered shut as you accepted his embrace. You placed your hands on his chest and snaked them around his neck, his dark hair falling onto your fingers. His lips were gone too soon as he interrupted the kiss to look at you. His eyes darted over your face, making sure you were still here and okay. It seemed like everything he touched lately disappeared before his eyes. 

He began to shake his head in disbelief. “God, you’re gorgeous.” His lips then crashed back into yours, drinking you in. He loved the way your mouth felt. He then moaned so quietly that you barely heard it yourself, but you did. You smiled against him, fingers tugging at his hair; you licked his bottom lip wanting to taste him on your tongue. His lips then parted letting you explore further. 

Stan whined at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his. His hands moving to the back of your neck and the small of your back to get you as close to him as possible. When you broke free of the kiss, his lips began to travel down your jawline and your neck. He was insatiable; he needed to discover every part of you with his mouth. 

“Fuck,” you breathed when he got to your collarbone. “Don’t stop.” His strong hand grasped at your waist; he now knew you were just as affected by this as he was. He started to suck a bruise into the dip at the crook of your neck. You cried out, desperately grabbing at his shoulder blades. 

When Stan was satisfied with the mark he left, he gave it a soft kiss. His eyes met yours once again. His lips were slightly swollen and shiny from the lip gloss you had applied earlier today. His cheeks were flushed from the intensity of the passionate moment you had shared. He then smiled and leaned in to speak against your lips. “So, what do you think about ditching this movie and heading back to your place?” 

You closed the almost non-existent gap by biting his bottom lip and dragging it through your teeth. Stan let out a sinful groan at the contact before you let him go. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

PART 3 DROPPING SOON  

[earth4angels]

ILL VENMO YOU PLEASE TEL US

if yall get me cancelled istg very short drabble — smut, swearing, experienced jace, needy jace, established relationship, fast, quick sex over the dining table — p in v.

scenario: jacaerys is coming home late from work and you welcome him with a nice dinner and bath which turns into more of a”fuck that i need you” from jace and he takes you over the kitchen table.

you kiss him desperately, grabbing his white button up in desperation, tugging, pulling to announce you want it off.

Jacaerys only laughs into your mouth, grabbing your thighs to pull you up on the dining table, his hands pushing the plates to the side. He resumes to kiss you, his hands expertly rip open your nightgown, leaving you bare and ready for his ever growing need to devour you.

He pulls away, a string of saliva still connecting you both. He stares into your eyes and with no words he pushes you back, all the while his hands removed his shirt, you heard the noise of his belt unbuckling, the sounds sending shivers all through your body.

You knew Jacaerys was always gentle and loving but at the moment you just needed him to have you. You needed every inch of his length sliding into you fast that you couldn’t form any words. You needed him so bad that you didn’t mind if your legs wouldn’t be able to function the next day.

It was as if Jacaerys felt the same, or rather he heard the way you whimpered his name. It was different to other times you wanted soft loving, and at the time, Jacaerys just needed you.

He pulled your hands, your body lifting and in a second you were bent over the table, you were not given a second to react to his touch till you heard him spit into his hand and his length sliding up and down your folds in a tease. You only whined before you grabbed onto the edge of the table, and in a second you felt your fiancée, deep inside you that it only left you shouting his name into the table.

Your breath fogged where you laid, your breasts rubbed against the table with every thrust he pushed, you felt as if your feet couldn’t catch up to his movements. You felt too good to even process the feeling of how Jacaerys found the spot that made you see white.

Jacaerys grabbed you by the neck, his hold soft yet he pulled until your entire upper body met his front. Never once, he stopped pushing fast and long.

His breath sounded raspy, shortened, as if he ran a marathon and it turned you on. With a hand still wrapped around your neck, his mouth found your ear where he bit slightly into as he began to encourage you.

“Feel that pretty girl?” he whispered as paused his thrusts, he began to go slower, pulling out to pushing back in inch by inch. You gasped as you held onto his arm around your neck.

“Jacae-Jacaerys…” you mumbled, your brain beginning to loose its sense of reality.

“My pretty girl,” he kissed your neck, then your cheek where his teeth grazed softly into, “Such a pretty girl, mine. Tell me, are you mine?”

You nodded, drooling as you felt his fingers reaching your sensitive bud, he went in circles softly.

“Use your words baby, tell me.”

You attempted to open your eyes to meet his, but when you did, you found his dark honey eyes waiting to loose themselves in yours. You realized then, Jacaerys never took his eyes off you. He enjoyed to watch you loose yourself in his touch, how he made you fly.

“I can tell you right now,” he whispered as his leaned to kiss you, “You feel amazing, that being inside you is like nothing i’ve never felt before.”

He began to thrust himself into you slower, and then faster, his breaths coming out sharp into your mouth. You only whimpered as you grabbed into his arms.

“There’s never going to be anyone else,” he whimpered now, his hold around your waist tightening, “You belong to me, as I do to you.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt your core tightening, and Jacaerys knew as your walls clenched around him. He moaned with you, his forehead resting onto your shoulder. Never once did he let you go.

“Come,” his hand reaching your behind where he lightly rubbed, you felt too overstimulated that you only moaned. “All this is mine. You are beautiful, give in to me my pretty,” he begged.

Your toes curled and you began to pant. Jacaerys felt you shaking in his hold, so he pulled out abruptly. He turned you around and had you wrap your legs around his waist. He didn’t waste a second to push his leaking length deep inside you.

Your head rolled back as Jacaerys licked into the moist of your neck, you didn’t hear the way he whimpered as you were lost in your pleasure. Only focusing how he held you and how his length pushed until you saw nothing but stars.

“Jace.. Jace … Jace..” you moaned.

“Tell them baby. Tell them who you belong to,” he whimpered, “I love you,”

Your lips blindly looked for his lips and when you did you sloppily kissed him, “I.. I love you.”

“Seven hells, you feel so good, god i missed you, i love you,” he mumbled over and over. He held you as you began to twitch and he knew that the moment you squeezed your eyes shut and mumbled his name in gibberish, he knew he had you.

“Fuck. Fuck. That’s it. Give in to me,” Jacaerys held you tighter, and just seconds later he followed you into a sweet heaven both of you created.

[fordlee]

Ford’s self-control on his… impure thoughts about his brother becoming undone as Summerween nears. All because of those outfits Stan’s been wearing on group tours that’s becoming more scandalous by the day. Call Ford crazy (well, crazier than he already is) but it almost seems like Stan wants him to fall into temptation.

Sorry this took so long, but I made it in time for Halloween! No smut unfortunately! I hope you like it anyway <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ⁺

If Ford hadn't known any better, he would have thought that Stanley was trying to torture him. The costumes Stan had worn in the week leading up to Summerween had become increasingly provocative. It had started off relatively innocent - ironic, considering that Stan's first costume of the week had been The Devil himself.

Stanford wasn't complaining, though. In fact, if he were being entirely honest, Stan looked downright adorable. The costume was akin to a pair of footie pajamas, all red and even coming with a tail sewn into the bottom. Ford wondered if Stan had sewn it himself, as he could see the stitch lines from where different pieces of fabric had been sewn together. Oh! And the little hooves on his footies. Something about it just pulled his heartstrings.

Stanley was precious. Even when reminding his customers that, “if you don't buy, you'll see me when you die!”

Unlike the coming days, not all that much transpired. However, for some reason, Ford found that Stanley's costume drew considerable attention to his rear. Perhaps because of the tail, perhaps because of the color, perhaps because Ford was an old pervert who enjoyed giving himself the opportunity to ogle his brother's ass. Who can say, really?

Whatever the case, Ford found himself resisting the urge to give Stan a pat on the ass far more often than he should have. Which, really, should have been not at all.

Mabel and Dipper had informed him that the second costume had been from the Summer prior, for a party held at The Mystery Shack.

It was a nice little number, even if it looked as though it hadn't seen the light of day since the Seventies. Then again, it did suit Stan well, if a bit loose on him. A white dress shirt with a v-neck, its collar popped. The gold chain draped around his neck led eyes to wander down to his chest, to the gray curls that covered Stan's wide chest. Ford could only wonder what he'd look like with his girdle off…

Ford preferred not to cross into the business section of the house, at least during operating hours. Though, it was tempting - the thought of getting close enough to run his eyes over Stan's chest, to sneak a peek past the v-neck of his shirt, down the valley of chest hair that trailed down to his stomach. The way the hair covered Stan's pecs, curled around his nipples.

Ford wondered, concealed by the shadows of the corners he was peeking around, if Stan's customers felt the same. If they, too, were left wanting and near breathless by the sight of Stan's tight sleeves wrapped around his thick arms. If they couldn't stop their eyes from trailing down to his brown slacks and how good they made his legs look. An image appeared in Ford's mind - of him storming over there and wrapping his arms around Stan's like a jealous lover.

Ford shook himself from the thought and suppressed a growl as he ripped himself away from the sight. That is, only after Stan had just happened to spot him, sending him off with a smirk and a wink.

The day after, Stan had worn a vampire costume - one he’d used last year, according to Mabel’s scrapbook. This year, however, Stanley had made some alterations. He had foregone that dreadful wig, and had left his undershirt partially unbuttoned, opened even wider than the day before, allowing anyone who desired to take a peek at the curly, gray chest hair underneath.

Ford found himself drawn to the fake fangs protruding from Stan's mouth. And Stan's mouth, in general, but that wasn't anything new. His imagination went wild with possibilities. Stanford was no stranger to sampling human blood, and he'd be lying if he said he hadn't considered partaking in the blood of his twin. Partially just out of curiosity, partially for the romanticism of it all. Drinking his brother's blood, having such an intimate part of his brother inside of him. But now, with Stan dressed up like this, he couldn't help but imagine if the roles were reversed.

Stan's fangs sinking deep into his neck, his mouth would be so hot and wet. Ford's hot blood would flood into Stanley's mouth and make him moan, vibrating against heated skin. The two of them moaning in tandem as Stan drank him dry. Stanley would cut himself open, across his chest, and press Ford's face into his chest, and the elder twin would eagerly lap up Stan's ichor, tongue covered in red, leaving over Stan's chest, his hair, his nipples. Ford would turn himself, and just as Stan did, he too would stake his claim and-

Ford was suddenly highly aware of how tight his pants felt, and made the decision to hole himself away in the basement for the day, trying his damndest to not think of Stanley or any tourists that may be ogling him.

The next day was no better - this time, Stan had decided a fitting follow-up was a sexy werewolf. He donned himself in an open flannel shirt, an off-white wife beater underneath, and a pair of jean shorts that, in Ford’s opinion, were not short enough to count as sexy - though they did give him a good look at his calves. But, then again, his brother wasn’t wearing them for him and he shouldn’t be thinking these things, anyway. If all of that wasn’t bad enough, Stan had worn a frankly adorable headband with two, fuzzy wolf ears protruding from it, and a pair of wolf paws. It took almost all of Stanford’s willpower to not go up to his twin and run his hands through his hair. The rest of his restraint was focused on forcing himself not to think of how Stanley would react if he called him a good boy.

Another day, another costume change. Ford should have known that something was horribly, terribly wrong when Mabel had informed him that she and Dipper had been banned from the Mystery Shack portion of the house.

Ford's fears had been confirmed when he peered around the corner to spot Stan during a tour. What? He couldn't just not look!

Stan was dressed as a sexy inmate. Of course. Of course he was. The bright, orange jumpsuit had no legs and was near skintight. Good God, Stan’s thighs. Ford felt like a dog with how much he was basically salivating over them. The urge to pull his brother away from his tour and the prying, undeserving eyes of his customers was so strong it had fingers itching to touch him. Fingers roaming every inch, caressing up his legs and down his thighs, brushing against his crotch…

The short sleeves allowed for Stan’s thick arms to be on full display. His chest, too, the graying curls making their return with a vengeance. The zipper of the opened jumpsuit lay tantalizingly close to Stan’s stomach. God, he was such a tease… But, no, no, he wasn’t. Stan wasn’t doing this on purpose, and Ford felt a sudden, crushing sense of guilt for even thinking that way. He was just doing this as a gag, and likely to catch the attention of any “babes” who were lucky enough to see their town darling in such a state of dress.

“Great Uncle Ford?”

In that instant, Ford’s blood had turned to ice. He’d been caught. Of course he had! He was peeking around the corners of The Mystery Shack in hopes of leering at his own twin brother!

A vortex of nausea churned in his stomach. For a moment, Stanford’s brain chugged like a dying engine. He was sent into mental freefall, no excuse or explanation to save him. He stuttered for a moment in surprise, clearly caught off guard. He watched as Dipper tilted his head, expression skewing into one of confusion. Great work, Stanford, you knucklehead. Ford managed to catch his breath, mind clearing somewhat. Then, he cleared his throat, forcing his face to remain neutral. He grasped for something to say.

“I- this- this is real, right?” Ford had made a showing of cringing as he pointed in Stanley’s general direction. “You’re seeing it, too?”

“I try not to,” Dipper grimaced before he perked back up. “But, Mabel and I get the week off of work just so we don't have to see.”

If only Ford could be so lucky. He snuck another peek.

“It’s like a trainwreck.” An incredibly attractive trainwreck. “I can’t look away.”

“Well, if you wanna get outta here, me and Mabel are gonna go Leprecorn-hunting!”

A tempting offer, to be sure. Perhaps some fresh air would clear Ford’s head. He quickly followed after his grandnephew and niece after grabbing some weaponry. He ended up being so consumed by thoughts of Stan in that costume in various poses that one of those bearded, be-hooved bastards nearly chewed his pant leg off.

Taking defensive measures, Stanford decided to hunker down in the basement for the majority of the following day. Stanley was out of sight, out of mind. Mostly. Well, he had certainly tried, and that’s what counted. He was thankful when Mabel and Dipper had decided to join him, allowing his mind to focus on crafting a quick campaign of Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons for them.

Even after a fun session of dungeon-crawling, Ford was desperate to not be alone with his own thoughts. His mind flashed through images of potential outfits Stan could have worn that day (sexy cowboy, sexy barbarian, sexy isosceles triangle…), causing him to shudder with lust. He had to keep distracting himself! He just needed to hold out for a couple more days. Then it would all go back to normal. Or as close to normal as his family could get.

It almost made Ford hopeful, until he finally made the ascent upstairs for dinner. He was certain he'd timed it so that Stan would have closed the Shack and gotten out of his costume, but of course, Ford just had to run right smack into him.

“Whoa, Sixer,” A strong hand came down on Ford's shoulder, steadying him. “You alright?”

An answer started to form, but immediately died in Ford's throat when he finally realized what Stan was wearing.

A pirate costume, funnily enough. A black captain's hat perched on Stan's head where his fez would normally be. Two straps at Stan's broad shoulders trailed down, connected to a tight, black corset that was a mix of both lace and leather, hugging him tight. And below the corset was a skirt. Stanley was wearing a skirt. His brother was in a skirt. A cute black skirt, layered with red, frilly fabric. Tantalizingly short. And when Ford’s eyes trailed down to his legs, he noticed– fishnets. Sweet Moses, Stanley was wearing fishnet stockings.

He dared not look any lower or for any longer, and when Ford was able to wrench his eyes away, he was suddenly, highly aware of how hot his face felt, a blush spreading from his face all the way down his chest and up to the tips of his ears. Ford’s mouth had fallen open at some point. He tried to articulate something verbally, but it seemed as though everything remotely intelligent in his brain had been shut down, all thanks to Stan and his scant clothing.

Stanley barked out a laugh. A large hand reached up and cupped Ford's jaw, making Ford seize up in surprise. The feeling of Stan’s warm, calloused hand on his face nearly made him reel back. His jaw was gently pushed up and his mouth closed.

“You'll catch flies,” Stan chided good-naturedly. “Leaves ya kinda speechless, don't it?”

Then, Stanley winked at him. Ford's mind scrambled for purchase, desperate to not make a bigger fool of himself than he already had.

“Quite,” Ford replied, finally finding the brain capacity to speak. “That- isn't that a…?”

“A broad's costume? Yeah, it drives the babes wild.” Stan leaned in, wiggling his eyebrows.

Stanford certainly couldn't argue that. He cleared his throat and quickly turned about to walk away– only to almost crash face first into the vending machine. Ford quickly recovered, shooting Stan a glare as he laughed after him, and made his escape from his sinful temptations. He didn't hear as Stan lagged behind him, muttering something to himself about ungrateful, perverted twin brothers.

Ford had a difficult time getting to sleep, his mind alight with even more ideas for what twin could be dolled up in. A sexy cheerleader, Stanley bending over his bed for him and rucking up his skirt, sending Ford a wink. A sexy playboy bunny, Stan spreading out his legs and showing Ford his thighs. Ford would crawl in between them, pulling aside the fabric that covered his bulge. A sexy unattainable princess, beckoning for him. Surely not a trap, surely not…

Ford was going to jump him. If he didn’t restrain himself, he was going to pounce on Stanley and take what was his. Because, of course, when he'd finally risen up from the basement, hoping the coast was clear, he'd found the house empty. As far as he was aware, at least. He really should have called out, just in case, but Ford was so overwhelmed with relief that it had slipped his mind. At least, that's what he told himself.

His feet had guided him straight to Stanley's room. Not only was he there, but he was in costume. Near naked. In front of a mirror. Posing.

“God, Stanley, this is the most provocative one yet! What if the children see?”

For just a moment, Ford relished the shocked expression on his brother's face. Stanley's eyes darted around the mirror for the culprit, quickly locking eyes with Ford, and a smug grin quickly rose to his lips. He spun around to face him.

For the umpteenth time that week, Ford gawker at his brother. It seemed to be what a Halloween store would refer to as a, "Sexy Mr. Mystery costume." Stan's suit had been replaced with just a loose vest. The only thing on the lower half of Stan's body beside his garters was a tight, red thong. And, as always, his fez.

“Aw, don’t worry, they’re out with Soos an’ Wendy. We got the place to ourselves.”

For a moment, Ford opened a closed his mouth, akin to a fish, making no sound. It was only when he shook himself did he finally find the strength to speak again - much to his twins amusement.

Ford's brows furrowed together as he approached (God he's so close, he's so so close to him, he could just reach out and touch him and take him and-). “Then, why are you dressed up? There are no tours tonight, correct?”

Stan crossed his arms over his chest, smiling smugly. “Not doing trick-or-treating, neither.”

A tilt of Ford's head. “So, what's with the outfit?”

“Ah, you know, jus’ in case someone wants a private tour.”

“A private tour.” Ford repeated. Part of it was making sure he was hearing Stan correctly, the costume was making it a tad difficult.

“Y'know, of the bedroom.”

Ford blinked owlishly.

All mirth ran away from Stan's face, his expression twisting in frustration. “For a genius, you can be real dense, y'know that?”

“What?”

“Ford, I'm-” Stan raised a hand to the bridge of his nose, rubbing at his face in exasperation. He let out a heavy sigh as he made eye contact with Stanford. “I'm… I'm coming on to ya.”

He was joking. He was just joking. Stan had to be joking. Ford trembled with restraint, shaking and itching to just touch him. But, he couldn't. It couldn't be true. Luckily, Stan took the choice out of his hands as he reached out to touch him, a large hand squeezing around his bicep.

“I'm not an idiot, Ford. You're literally the most obvious person in the world about this. I know you like me.”

Stanford was sure that by now, his entire world would have ended. His life should be over. But, Stanley doesn't seem angered. Quite the opposite.

A shaky breath before he dared to confess, “I love you.”

Stan's smile was tender and warm. “I love you, too, knucklehead. An’ I know you want this. That's the reason why I dressed up.”

“Really?"

“Yeah! And ‘cause I like driving you crazy.”

Of course. Of course he'd do all this just to mess with him. Who else but Stanley would?

“Jerk,” Ford gave Stan a playful punch, his grin betraying him. "... Was I really that bad?"

"Oh, yeah, you could see it from a million miles away," Stan chuckled. “For some reason I figured tryin’ to goad you into jumpin’ my bones was easier than just tellin’ ya I feel the same.”

“Don't you hate it when you have to actually talk things out?”

“Ugh, it's the worst!”

Ford chuckled darkly. “You better be prepared to make up for an entire week of teasing me.”

Stan leaned closer, wrapping his arms around Ford. “Whaddaya say you unwrap your treat, huh?”

“God, and you say I'm the lame one.”

“Shut up, nerd.”

And before Ford could respond, Stan pressed his lips against Ford's in a searing kiss. All restraint and worry left Ford as they both melted together, into the loves of each other's lives, and guided one another to the bed.

[reverse1999fics]

Hallo! I not sure request is open if is not feel free to decline this sorry! If is alright could i request 6 and medicine pocket separately with a shy and timid s/o who worries a lot and hides behind them doesn’t have any friends but likes to just be by their side most of the time and clings to them? Hope you have a nice day!

Woohoo! Back on that grind and cranking out requests!! They are open btw!!

Please forgive me if either of them are a little ooc! I don't have MP and I skipped through the story so I don't entirely know 6's personality all that well!!

Medicine Pocket & 6 w/a Timid/Shy S/O (separate)

Medicine Pocket is someone with a very flamboyant personality, always being able to speak their mind. They never quite understood why or how you could be so timid, but that didn't stop them from loving you all the same.

Their tall physic let off an intimidating aura to those who didn't know them properly, but to you it was a source of comfort. Their height makes it easy for you to hide behind, holding their hand or a part of their coat and trailing behind them like a child would play follow the leader. Of course Medicine Pocket had no issue with this, even taking pride in how safe you'd feel around them and only them.

No matter that you don't have many friends, neither do they due to how... Different they are to others, all they need is to be in your company they say. Others were frustrating and didn't understand what they were trying to say, what they meant, but you did. You always understood their words and actions, so you were the only person they truly wanted to be around.

Clingy? You? Clearly you've never met them because goodness only knows how much they love to be around you. Even if it were you just simply being in the same room as them, they want to be near you. You know them better than anyone else, understand their weird antics and never judge them for how they acted or what they did. That was something they held close to their heart, right next to you, so of course your affection is needed on a daily basis! Sit next to them while they work on projects or go through paperwork, lay your head on their shoulder, read a book on the couch they moved in the room just for you, take a nice nap, sit on their lap, let them sit on your lap! Anything, as long as you were with them.

6 is a person driven to perfection when it comes to his work, someone strict with his rules and follows them all to a T. You, are a slight exception though. Oh how adorable you are to him, holding onto his sash while standing behind him, cowering from the other numbers like a little kitten. He had a soft spot for you, that much was clear to everyone

Being of high status on the island, he was a busy person, usually so busy he comes off as a recluse. But never was he too busy to ignore you even for a moment. Come into his arms after a long day of interacting with people, sit in his lap and rest to regain your social battery while he works on equations and problem solving. Your battery recharges just as much as his does, so let him rest his head on yours for a moment but don't question his closed eyes. He's just letting them rest for a moment.

You need not worry about not having many friends, he wouldn't say he has many either, if any at all. You are his one and only, why pay attention to others when he has you to keep him company? He'd rather stay home with you by his side with a good book of philosophy rather than go out with others. His robes will keep you warm, so snuggle up to his side and read along with him if you do so please.

His personality severely contradicts your own, having a more serious and stern personality that goes against your timid one, but that never stops him from loving you all the same. Should the two of you be away from each other he'll leave a piece of him with you, perhaps something on his person he wears often, or maybe a book he knows you'd like. When he is with you he'll never mind you grabbing a hold of his hand, even when others are around. He finds it adorable how you seem to try and melt into his arm as you hold onto it while others are around and chatting.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Take Care of You [9]

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)

Chapter Word Count: 9,950

Mood board and borders by @saradika

Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It’s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?

[a/n: we back, baby. and we also barely edited so if you catch a typo don't hate me. also this was supposed to end in a different spot but then i got carried away in the middle so i had to split it 🥴]

Chapter Specific Warnings: angst, heartbreak, binge drinking to ease emotional turmoil, mild violence, mentions of blood and injury

09: LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU

"i still haven't figured out how to sit across from you, and not be madly in love with everything you do." ⏤ william c. hannon

Three years ago, Nima tried to convince you to go skydiving with her. She begged and she pleaded, but you told her ‘no’ on account of thinking she was a crazy person for wanting to jump out of a perfectly good plane. Which was hilarious now considering you were sitting beside Joel wanting to pull open the door and dive out. The irony was not lost on you.

The only reason you hadn’t gone scrambling for the door was because Joel was forced to take a work call a few minutes into the flight. He hadn’t moved away. Joel stayed right next to you with his arm behind you as he spoke, and every few moments he’d glance at you with a silent apology and shake his head. You’d reply with a tight lipped smile and go back to mindlessly scrolling through instagram. 

Unfortunately the mindlessly scrolling was not so mindless. Since leaving Vegas, you had a high pitch ringing in the back of your mind like an endless, echoing siren. Married. A married man. Joel was⏤ Your teeth were clenched together so hard you wondered if Joel could hear them grinding against one another. Yesterday had been filled with so much anxiety, and you had managed to work through it by the end of the night. Mostly. But this was worse. This was so much worse. 

Married?

Your throat suddenly felt tight, eyes stinging with unshed tears, and you hastily undid your seatbelt and stood. Joel glanced your way and you pointed to the back of the plane and mouthed the word ‘bathroom’ to him. He nodded with a soft smile, and you spun on your heel and practically sprinted to the tiny plane bathroom. You struggled to get the folding door shut and the stewardess who sat not far away stared at you in confusion. You gave her an awkward wave and finally got it latched. 

“Fuck.” You shoved your face in your hands, leaning against the wall, and held back your tears. You were confused and frustrated, and you couldn’t even find relief in a good cry because Joel would spot it in a heartbeat no matter how much you tried to put yourself back together. The thought of confronting him about this right now was your worst nightmare. You hadn’t had the time to process any of the wild thoughts pinging around your head yet.

Your mind was at war with itself. On one hand, maybe you were being stupid and naive. For the last month and a half you’ve spent nearly every day with Joel and on the days you weren’t actively seeing him the two of you would talk either over a call or through text. You knew Yo-yo for 24 hours. Sure, she seemed nice and sincere, but what if Rosalind sent her to screw with you? For all you knew, Yo-yo had cruel intentions and was trying to drive a wedge between you and Joel. By taking her word you’d be playing right into that trap. What she said about the other sugar baby and about Joel being married? Maybe it was all fake and you’ve been stressing for no reason.

On the other hand, Joel didn’t kiss you. He didn’t kiss you because he wanted to ‘do right by you’. Joel asked for time. Was it because he needed to get a divorce? Worse. Was he married with absolutely no plans to get divorced and just buying time for something else? 

God, if you kept up this line of thought you were gonna vomit. Quickly, you turned to the sink to splash a little cold water on your face in hopes it would help you get your shit together for the next thirty minutes. Half an hour and you’d be on the ground. But then what? It would be a miracle if you kept it together for thirty minutes let alone any longer. 

You took in a long, slow breath and tried to clear your mind. When you felt steady enough, you stepped out of the bathroom. As tempting as it was to hide in there for the rest of the flight, it would probably be a red flag for Joel that something was wrong. You wandered back over to Joel and at your approach, and at the sight of you, he covered the bottom of his phone and whispered, “You alright?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded quickly and sat back down.

“I’m sorry. Jus’ another minute.” 

You waved your hands at him as nonchalantly as you could and he went back to his call. You leaned back in the seat, phone in hand, and Joel readjusted his arm on the back of the seat so he could settle his hand on your shoulder. As he always did, his thumb was tracing circles on your shoulder. An action you always loved, but now an intrusive thought slammed into you⏤ does he do this with his wife? The question was so startling, so sickening, that you couldn’t bite back the nausea that rolled through your body. You jumped up so fast you nearly stumbled over your feet, and you scrambled for the bathroom. 

Vaguely, you heard your name behind you, but you didn’t stop until you reached the toilet. You fell to your knees and threw up. The taste of acid in your mouth made you wince, but getting it all up did bring some relief. That relief was short lived though as you felt a large, warm hand settle on your back.

“Jesus, sugar.” He said in a soothing voice as he rubbed your back. “What’s goin’ on? Have you felt sick all mornin’?”

You spat into the toilet bowl, trying to get the taste of bile out of your mouth, before reaching out and flushing the toilet. You tried to stand, and Joel hooked his arm around you to help you up. He called out of the bathroom and a second later the stewardess brought in a cup of water and a ginger ale. Joel handed you the water and kept his hand rubbing up and down on your back.

“I’m⏤ I’m fine.” You shook your head and took a sip of water to swish and spit into the sink. “Really.”

“Obviously not.” Joel replied. “C’mon, let’s sit you down.”

“Joel…” You tried to argue, but he wasn’t hearing it. He kept an arm around you as he carefully led you back to the seat. He brought the bottle of ginger ale with you and the moment you finished the water he took the cup out of your hand to replace it with the soda. “I feel better now. It’s fine.”

“You’ve been off this mornin'. I was worried.” Joel lifted a hand to feel your forehead. It made sense that Joel picked up on your distress. He had always been so good at reading you. “You seemed fine when we first woke up. When exactly did you start feelin' sick?”

You took a sip of the ginger ale, “I…I don’t know. After breakfast maybe.” You lied. The sincerity in his eyes, the concern in his voice, it was both bringing you comfort and making you sick again all at once. You felt so stupid. Either you were freaking out over a lie a woman you barely knew told you or you were being tricked into feelings by a married man. Either way, you felt pathetic. “Your, um, your work call, Joel.”

Joel shook his head in response and didn’t even bother addressing the work call he stopped. He set a hand on the back of your neck and his thumb was lightly ghosting over your skin. You closed your eyes and took a slow breath in and out through your nose. “Tell me what I can do, sugar.”

“I⏤” You swallowed the lump in your throat. You forced your eyes open, finding Joel’s furrowed brow and worried gaze already on you, and it made you want to cry. You shook your head, “I, um, I think I just wanna lay down for a while. If that’s okay.”

“Course it’s okay.” He replied. 

The seat the two of you were sharing wasn’t long enough for you to lay down without laying your head on Joel’s lap. You planned on moving to the other couch seats to lay down, but Joel’s hand was still on the back of your neck and he lightly began to guide you down. Too tired to even try and move, you settled your head on his thigh and curled your body up onto the rest of the seat. 

In any other situation, this would be one of the most comfortable spots on Earth. Your head rested on his thick, firm thigh, and Joel’s hand traced where he could reach. Up and down your jawline and neck⏤ his thumb and forefinger would occasionally massage your earlobe. You tried to calm your racing thoughts. The truth was, you didn’t know the truth yet. It was a fact you kept repeating in your head in hopes it would numb the sharp pain of your worst fears, but those intrusive thoughts continued to pummel you.

“I’m so sorry, baby girl.” Joel murmured while his fingers dragged across your skin. “What a shitty way to end this weekend.” You hummed in agreement. This really was a shitty way to close out what started as one of the best weekends of your life.

Avoiding Joel made you realize how involved in your life he was. After landing in LA, Joel tried to drag you to a doctor and only conceded when you told him it was probably a 24 hour bug and you just wanted to sleep. He called you later that night to check in on you, and you managed to talk to him for a few minutes before lying about wanting to go to bed early. Come Monday morning, you went to work despite Joel texting you that you should stay home. Trying to focus at work was physically painful. Enough so that after the nightmare Monday had been, you left midway through the day today claiming to Henry that you didn’t feel well. It wasn’t even a full blown lie. You felt like shit.

Nima threw the folder of papers onto her desk and set her hands on her hips, “I’m gonna hit him with my car.”

“Please don’t.” You mumbled with your chin resting in your palm as you leaned on the other side of her desk. After leaving work, you came directly to Nima’s office. Going home and sitting on your couch, alone with your thoughts, would only make you ten times more miserable.

“No, actually, my car isn’t big enough. I’m gonna commandeer a bus and hit him with that.”

“I haven’t confirmed anything yet. For all I know, I’m being this pathetic over nothing.”

Nima snapped her hand up and pointed at you with a glare, “No. I will not have you shit talking yourself when the only person we should be shit talking is Joel Miller and his wife.”

You groaned and let your head fall to the desk. The words ‘Joel Miller and his wife’ made you viscerally ill. The time you spent not talking to Joel Monday night you spent stalking people on social media. You reached dead ends very quickly though since Joel didn’t have any social media whatsoever. The easiest solution was to just look Joel in the eyes and ask him for the truth, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You wanted to know the truth, but you were scared to actually seek it out. 

If you asked Joel for the truth, if you confronted him, then he’d give it to you.

What if the truth was something you didn’t want to hear?

“Alrighty, babe, real talk.” Nima said and you lifted your head, keeping your chin resting on the wood, and saw she had dropped down into her office chair. To meet your eye line, she held her chin on the desk across from you to mirror your position. “I can threaten and plot his demise all I want, but I know I’m not allowed to kill him until this is confirmed or denied.” She twisted her lips. “You deserve the truth.”

You pouted, “How am I supposed to ask him about this, Nima??”

Her eyebrows furrowed in concern, “If you did ask… How sure are you that he’d answer truthfully?”

You pushed up and leaned back in the chair. That was a good question, and with anyone else it would probably be a real concern. However, you weren’t worried about that. You truly, deep down, believed that if you confronted Joel about this he would give you the truth. 

“I really think he would.” You answered. “Is that naive of me?”

“You know him better than I do.”

This entire situation made you question that. Did you know him? You knew he grew up in Austin. He had a younger brother, Tommy, and it was just them and his mom for most of his childhood. You knew he attended one year in college when his mom passed away⏤ cancer. Joel dropped out of college to take care of his brother and picked up a job in construction. That’s where he got his start. His first boss saw he had a knack for more than just the manual labor and trusted him with more and more until Joel was running sites for the man. At 27, Joel’s girlfriend of three months got pregnant. They planned to make it work, but she left when Sarah was two weeks old. You knew he adopted Ellie three years later. That he earned his bachelor’s degree in business at home through online classes while raising two young girls and working a full time job. That he started Miller Construction shortly after earning that degree, and it blew up from there.

You knew despite being a tough guy, he didn’t like horror movies.

You knew his favorite whiskey was Lagavulin⏤ neat.

The one thing you didn’t know was if he was married or not.

“I am going to suggest something,” Nima began, “And I want you to listen before you call me crazy.” You shot her confused look and she continued on. “I have this cousin.” You groaned and Nima chastised you to listen. It seemed like she had a cousin available for every situation that arose, and half the people she called cousin weren’t even technically related to her by blood. Anytime you asked her about it all she’d say was ‘Korean moms’ love to talk’, as if that clarified anything for you. “Seriously. He’s dating a private eye. With one text, we can get some answers.”

You shook your head, “Nima, that’s insane.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, hiring a private investigator is insane.” 

“Look, it’ll get us reliable answers.” Nima argued. “The truth.”

You rolled the idea around in your head. It was literally the epitome of paranoid absurdity, but you were wondering if that’s the point you were at. Would it be better to find out this way? That way when you finally did confront Joel you wouldn’t be blind sided by the answer. Hell, if the answer turned out to be ‘no, he isn’t married’ then you can chalk up the last few days as time wasted and move on with your life. That being said, it did seem like an invasion of Joel’s privacy. 

“That feels…” You paused, “Illegal?”

“It’s not illegal to hire a PI.” Nima countered then tilted her head. “I think. I’m not a lawyer, but people do it on TV all the time, right?”

“Well, that logic is foolproof.” 

“I’m not gonna do it if you tell me you don’t want to do it.” Nima said firmly. She crossed her arms and gave a small little shrug. “But you have to do something. Either this or just call him right now and tell him the two of you need to talk.” There was a protective sincerity in her eyes that felt like a security blanket being settled on your shoulders. “I don’t want to see you get more attached to this guy just to be hurt. I don’t want him to lie to you.”

You knew Nima only had your best interests in mind. Technically, Joel had given you no reason not to trust him. Half the time you thought on this topic you convinced yourself you were overreacting and being a pathetic, paranoid mess. Yo-yo, as nice and fun as she had been, was a virtual stranger to you. Her word shouldn’t trump Joel’s. You knew all of that, and you wanted to trust him. However, it felt like some broken part of you was looking for something to be wrong. Joel Miller was too good to be true. Why would someone like him be interested in someone like you? There had to be something else going on. According to your ex, you hadn’t even been worthy of him and Joel Miller was ten times the man he was. 

“Okay, do it.” You blurted and hated yourself for doing so.

Nima held your gaze for a second, but you pushed to stand and crossed her office to her private bathroom. You took one of the paper towels, dampening it, and set it on the back of your neck in a poor attempt to ground yourself. For a while longer, you just stood there in front of the sink. Not staring at yourself, but staring forward at a singular spot as your thoughts raced. You needed a positive thought. Just one would do, and you were prepared to drag it out of your thick skull kicking and screaming if necessary. 

“Everything is going to be okay.” You mumbled to yourself softly. 

The whispered words did nothing for your anxiety. However, the memory of him did. You found comfort looking back at the soft moments spent with Joel and let yourself fall down that rabbit hole. The temporary peace was nice, but it didn't last. Finding strength you didn’t know you had today, you splashed your face one more time and then left the bathroom.

Your eyes immediately landed on Nima who stared back with wide eyes. Nima spoke first, “What?”

“What?” You repeated. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Oh, I thought you said something.” Nima flipped her phone over and settled her hand on top of it. You glanced from her face to her phone and back again. A look of misery flickered across her features. You tilted your head in question. “Are you hungry? I’m hungry.”

“Nima.” You crossed the room quickly. “Did they already text back??”

“No. Yes. Maybe?” Nima shook her head. “Not exactly.”

“Nima.”

She twisted her lips and drummed her nails against the plastic case of her phone. You shot her another look and she blew out a sigh. “He sent me a response, but it’s like half an answer. Half a report. We should wait until he can⏤”

“What did he say?”

“Apparently, he’s working on a case for someone else right now and had a database right in front of him so all he had to do was type in⏤”

“Nima, please.” You blurted. It felt like your heart was caught in your throat. You couldn’t breathe and you didn't feel coherent enough to string together a thought. Her hesitance was an answer in and of itself. You rubbed your throat, your other arm wrapping around your torso in a poor attempt to hold yourself together, and gasped. “Just say it.”

“He’s married, babe.” Nima mumbled. You knew the words had been coming, but they still overwhelmed you. The air left your lungs as if someone had gut punched you and you fell back into the seat in front of her desk. “He said he’d send me the certificate when he could, but he has to finish this job first. I’m so sorry. I am so, so sorry. I⏤”

Nima stopped herself from speaking as she came around her desk and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You sat in her embrace for as long as your shattering mind could endure and then shook your head, “I need a drink. Drinks. Plural.”

“It’s three in the afternoon, babe.” Nima mumbled in concern. You shot her a dry look and she offered you a tight lipped smile. “Drinks it is! Let’s go. We can go back to my place and⏤”

“No.” You pushed to stand. “I wanna go out.”

“Oh… kay. Where?”

“Anywhere.” You turned and began to leave.

Nima was scrambling to gather her belongings into her strawberry shaped purse before rushing out after you. “Just one drink though. I hate being the voice of reason, but we should limit ourselves to one drink.”

One drink turned into two which turned into three which turned into twelve.

By 6 PM, you were borderline wasted. It was by no means the best decision you’ve ever made, but you couldn’t classify it as your worst considering that, for the first time since leaving Vegas, you didn’t feel sad or defeated. No, those blue emotions had turned into a burning shade of red. You had finally found your anger and all it took was copious amounts of alcohol. 

“I mean, married?” You scoffed as you stood at the bar with Nima at your side. “That’s⏤ That’s illegal.” Nima nodded in agreement as she blindly tried to find the straw in her drink with her tongue. You reached out and pushed it toward her lips. “And worse than illegal! It’s fucking rude.”

“So rude.” Nima slurped at the last of her drink and all you could hear was the rattling of ice in her glass. She pulled away to slam the cup down and pointed at you⏤ her pink hair had been let down from the braid to messily rest around her shoulders. “You should get a new sugar daddy!” You stuck your tongue out in disgust and shook your head. “No! This is such a good idea.” Nima began to look around the bar. “Let’s find you a super hot, super not married sugar daddy.”

“I don’t want a new sugar daddy. I want another drink.” You leaned on the bar and waited for the bartender to look your way. Nima and you had bounced to a few bars. The two of you, back when you were sober, decided to start drinking in an area that had multiple bars all within walking distance. The one you were in now wasn’t familiar to you⏤ it wasn’t a place you and Nima had been to before. It was a bit too upscale for your liking. Sober you would not have been a fan. Drunk you? Loving it.

Nima was tapping on your shoulder rapidly and when you looked her way she was pointing across the bar to God knows who. “He looks like he wouldn’t marry someone without your permission.”

“That’s,” You shook your head, “not my situation.”

“Isn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” You shook your head and looked back toward the bartender who was busy with a group of women further down the bar. The sound of vibrating vaguely filled the air and you leaned closer to Nima who immediately wrapped her arms around you in a hug. “You’re vibrating.”

“You’re vibrating.”

You found her purse and opened it so you could rifle through it. It dawned on you then that somewhere around bar two and drink five you had shoved your phone in her purse for safe keeping. When you finally managed to pull it out, Joel’s face was flashing on the screen and you yelped in surprise. You tossed the phone onto the bar and held your face between your hands.

“Oh, no. Oh, no, no.” You shook your head and the vibration stopped. Joel’s picture disappeared and was replaced with a notification of a missed call that joined the notification telling you that you had unread messages. Your eyes snapped to Nima who was trying to drink out of her empty cup again. “Joel.”

“Bastard man.” Nima edited.

“Dinner.” You grimaced. “At 7. I’m supposed to get dinner with Joel at 7. It’s 6:35.”

Nima shook her head and crunched the ice she had shoveled into her mouth, “Bastard man can go to dinner with his wife tonight.”

 You grimaced, “I hate all the words you just used.”

The bartender began to wander over and Nima turned to order more drinks. You picked up your phone and leaned against the bartop with your elbow. With a frown and furrowed brow, you opened your text messages. Every unread text was from Joel unsurprisingly. The first came in at 4:29 and it was a simple, ‘Hey sugar, I’m excited to see you tonight’. The next was almost exactly an hour later and it said, ‘Hope your day’s been alright. We still on for tonight?’. Finally, the most recent at 6:15, was just your name with a question mark.

You set the phone back down before the temptation to reply could overcome you. It only sat on the bartop for a second before it began to vibrate violently as another call came in. Joel’s face filled the screen and you felt a wave of sadness drag you under. The fact that you were mourning the lack of his presence to this degree was probably a sign you were doing this ‘sugar baby’ thing very wrong.

“Maybe I should answer it.” You voiced the thought aloud.

Nima caught it and gasped before slapping her hand on top of the still buzzing phone, “No, ma’am! You will not be doing that.” The bartender set two new drinks between the two of you. Nima pushed one in front of you and moved the straw to point directly at you. “Drink.”

You took a sip then spoke, “I don’t even know the whole story⏤” Nima pushed your face back to the straw so you took another long sip. “Maybe it’s a misunderstanding…” This time your lips found their way to the straw on their own accord and you took a sip that could be argued as dangerously long. “I need to talk to him. Confront him. Demand answers.”

“Yes. To all of that. Eventually.” Nima replied with a nod. She reached forward and bopped you on the nose with her finger. “But not tonight.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know one thing in life,” Nima held up the one finger she used to bop your nose, “You do not have serious conversations while drunk.”

You shook your head with a pout, “I thought you said you don’t like being the voice of reason.”

“If it means helping you, I’ll always lean toward reason, babe.” 

The two of you went back to drinking. Your vibrating phone stopped and a few seconds passed before a notification for a voicemail popped up. You turned to Nima, “Can I listen to it? That’s not talking. That’s listening.”

Nima chewed on her straw slowly before bobbing her head in an affirmative nod, “I shall allow it.”

You picked up the phone to listen to the message he left you.

‘Hey, sugar.’ Joel’s voice rumbled over the line and you felt your chest physically ache at the sound. You closed your eyes in annoyance with yourself. If you hadn’t fallen so hard, so fast for this man you wouldn’t be in this scenario to begin with. ‘Gotta say I’m a little worried. Haven’t heard from ya all day. Gimme a call when ya get this.’

You groaned and set your head down on the bar. Guilt gnawed at you. It felt childish of you to be ghosting him like this, and that wasn’t your typical go to move. You had enough respect for the people in your life to address them when needed rather than hide behind voicemail. With the guilt was a swirling vortex of anger. You were angry at Joel for not being up front with you. You were angry at Yo-Yo for being the one to plant the initial doubt that started all this. You were angry at yourself most of all. Angry that you felt guilt at all, angry that you had foolishly placed so much trust in a man you barely knew, angry that despite everything there was still a part of you that craved his presence. You missed his touch and his voice. You missed those burning brown eyes and the way his very glance could melt you into a puddle.

“You okay, babe?” Nima’s voice asked softly. You shook your head without lifting it. “I’m sorry. I can break his knee caps if you want?”

“What?” You lifted your gaze.

“What?” She replied innocently. 

The phone began to vibrate again startling you. He had just called so you didn’t expect him to call again, but then again you were supposed to be in your apartment waiting for him to pick you up for dinner. You pictured him standing at your door dressed up and holding a bouquet of flowers. Nausea rolled over you in waves, and you grabbed your mixed drink thinking it could cure your troubles.

A few minutes passed before another voicemail was left. You snatched your phone up and shoved it back into Nima’s purse so it would be out of your line of sight⏤ not even bothering to listen to the second voicemail. Tomorrow, you decided. Tomorrow you would confront Joel and have this difficult conversation. You both finished the drinks in front of you as the lively bar continued to thrive around you.

“Why is he married?” You asked suddenly. Nima must have known it wasn’t a question you expected an actual answer to as she stayed silent. You rested your face in your hands and sighed. With your eyes closed against your hands like this you began to feel dizzy. A sure sign that you should stop drinking. Nima rubbed your back soothingly and you dropped your hands to shoot her an appreciative glance. “You’re the best best friend a girl could ask for.”

“I know, babe. And you know what else I know?” Nima squished your cheeks together with a wide grin, “You deserve the universe in a gold hand basket, and any man who can’t see that or who would play games with your big, loving heart doesn’t deserve you.”

You laughed and Nima chuckled herself before letting go of your face to pick up her empty glass. Her tongue struggled to find the straw but once it did she tried to take a big gulp only to get drops and air. Nima pulled away from her straw and furrowed her brow, “Who finished my drink?”

With another laugh, you raised your hand to order two more drinks. At this point you’ve already had so much to drink, what would one more hurt? You knew the hangover tomorrow was going to be a bad one, but a part of you was looking forward to it. There would be no mourning Joel tomorrow if your head hurt too much to even think his name. 

Nima successfully managed to distract you again as she drunkenly delved into a story you weren’t quite following, but you enjoyed the way she told it. A low whistle interrupted the moment of peace the two of you had found. You glanced past Nima to see two men in business suits wandering over. Nothing about them stood out to you. One was brunet and the other blond, but they both looked like they never grew out of the frat lifestyle on a college campus.

“We saw you two pretty ladies from over there and wanted to come and offer you our company.” The blond greeted smugly.

Nima turned in her seat to face him and waved her hand at him while taking a long sip of her drink until the ice rattled in the glass. Then she pulled the straw out of her mouth to finally speak with a shake of her head, “Sorry, we don’t speak english.”

“You just said that in English.” The blond chuckled.

“Sorry, sorry.” Nima waved her hand once more. “I don’t understand your accent.”

You snickered under your breath while chewing on your straw. The brunet stepped forward to stand side by side with the other and shook his head, “No need to be a bitch. We just wanted to talk.”

“Oh, you haven’t even begun to see bitchy yet.” Nima pointed her glass in their direction⏤ a bit of ice sloshing out with the exaggerated movement. “I can show you bitchy.” She reached back to swat at your arm. “Tell them, babe.”

“She can.” You nodded in agreement.

The blond set a hand on his friend’s shoulder and tugged him back, “Let’s just go, man.”

The brunet reluctantly let himself get dragged away, but he continued to stare at you and Nima the entire time. Nima spun in her seat and scoffed, “Where was I before I was interrupted by douchebag one and douchebag two?”

“I’m not gonna lie,” You shrugged, “I have no idea.”

“I’ll pick a place then.” Nima said and jumped into the middle of her story. “So, there I was covered head to toe in honey.”

Same as before, you really couldn’t keep track of her tale but it amused you all the same. The two of you chatted for another minute or two before a new face came across the two of you again. Nima had bounced in her seat, excited, and it knocked her strawberry shaped purse to the floor. Your phone clattered out. Before you could climb off the bar stool to grab it, a man passing knelt down and scooped it up. In one tanned hand he grabbed the purse and in the other your phone. The phone’s screen lit up and you swallowed at the sight of the multiple missed messages all from the same person. 

“Oh.” The man cleared his throat and straightened his stance. He was handsome with a kind face. Dark hair, a bit on the longer side, was messily pushed back and it matched the scruff on his upper lip and chin. The man wore a pink button up shirt, all the buttons undone, over a white t-shirt. “I suppose this is yours, miss?”

You begun to reach out, “Thanks⏤”

“Hold it!” Nima pointed at the man making his dark, brown eyes widen. “State your intentions, sir!”

“To…return your purse?” He lifted up the strawberry bag.

Nima narrowed her eyes at him and snatched it away, “Likely story.”

“Thank you.” You reached out and he handed the phone over to you. A glance down revealed four missed calls, two unheard voicemails, and five texts. You winced at the sight and set your phone face down on the bar. You were surprised to see the man still standing by your stools. “You…” You narrowed your eyes at him. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

He chuckled and shook his head, “Afraid not, ma’am.”

It was sitting on the tip of your tongue, but your foggy brain just couldn’t quite grasp it. Nima snapped her fingers and pointed at him. “I got it. He’s that guy.” You lifted an eyebrow at her words and she nodded frantically. “Yeah, he’s that actor! You play in that one show with, like, the zombies or whatever, right?”

“Not at all.” He laughed with a shake of his head. “I ain’t no actor.”

“Well then, I’m out of guesses.” Nima grumbled. She tilted her head, looking him up and down once more, “You seem nice enough. Got a pretty face. You rich? You wanna be a sugar daddy? She’s in the market.”

You rolled your eyes, “Nima.”

“You’re in the market for a sugar daddy?” The man asked in shock. You could hardly blame the man for his confusion and disbelief. This was hardly a normal bar conversation. “Really?”

“No. She’s just drunk.”

“Irrelevant.” Nima argued.

You chuckled then introduced yourself and Nima. The man paused for a beat before nodding and offering you his hand. “Nice to meet you both. My name is Tommy.” It took a second to click, but once the name finally wormed its way through your mind your eyes widened. Tommy chuckled and answered your unspoken question, “Yeah. I am.”

Nima glanced between you two with a frown, “Hold on, I’m not following. You are what? You’ll be her new sugar daddy?”

“No way in hell.” Tommy grinned. “If I even thought 'bout it, my brother’d skin me alive.”

The look on Nima’s face stayed confused until you swallowed the lump in your throat and finally spoke, “It’s… Nima, this is Joel’s brother.”

Her face remained frozen before morphing into one of shock. She gasped, almost comically, and pointed at him. “Oh, fuck.” Her eyebrows furrowed into a glare. “You son of a bitch, your brother is a son of a bitch!”

Tommy didn’t pay her outburst any mind, but his eyes darted back to you. “I asked my brother to come out drinkin' with me tonight, but he said ‘no’ cause he had a date with you.” Tommy stuck his hands into his pockets. “Funny I’m findin' you here without him.”

“That’s because your brother is too busy with his wife to be with my girl!”

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed in surprise and he glanced back to you, “He already told you about her?”

It was quite possibly the worst string of words you could have heard all day. Only in competition with Nima’s ‘He’s married, babe’. You felt nauseous and dizzy⏤ the breath stolen from you again. Nima was arguing with Tommy, you could hear her voice, but you couldn’t concretely understand a single word that was said. When you finally managed to get a handle on reality, you looked back to see things had fallen apart and more time than you realized had passed in your mental breakdown. 

The blond and brunet from earlier, in the suits, had come back and were somehow arguing with Tommy and Nima now. You suddenly began to regret the last two drinks you had. Maybe if you had gone with a couple glasses of water instead you’d be able to puzzle out exactly what was going on right now.

“Get the hell outta here. They ain’t interested.” Tommy snapped.

“Just curious as to why we weren’t good enough for these bitches and you were.” The brunet slurred his words. Tommy stood a step in front of Nima who had slid off her bar stool to stand in front of you with her hands on her hips. “What’s so special about you, bub?”

“Ugh. How about the two of you run off to the bathroom and jack each other off, huh? Then leave us the fuck alone.” Nima sneered.

“Shut your damn mouth!” 

The blond tried to push past Tommy toward Nima, but Tommy shoved him back immediately. He grabbed the guy by the collar. “You gonna charge at a woman like that? Fuckin' coward.” Tommy’s voice came out in a gravelly growl that reminded you so much of Joel that it was staggering. “You got a problem, you take it up with me.”

The next moment happened fast. The blond tried to swing out at Tommy so Tommy blocked it with his elbow before tackling the man to the ground. The brunet grabbed Nima and wrapped his arms around her. She howled in anger and squirmed in his arms trying to find purchase to hit him. The brunet spun so his back was to you and you slid off the stool. Without pause, without thought, you picked up your empty glass and smashed it to the back of the man’s head. He released Nima, crumpling to the ground with a groan, and any shred of a fight stopped⏤as did the entire bar.

Tommy was kneeling on the ground pinning the blond while Nima stood off to the side.

“Oh my God.” Nima squealed, amused.

“Oh my God.” Tommy blurted, impressed.

“Oh my God.” You gasped, shocked at your own action.

You were panting, damn near hyperventilating, as the brunet began to rise on shaky limbs. Other patrons nearby converged on the scene to help out and before you knew it you were being ushered off to the side where a few couches and seats sat in a lounge area. 

“You’re such a badass.” Nima gushed from beside you. "How’s your hand??”

“Hurts.” You mumbled and stared down at the white cloth wrapped around your hand. Bright red was beginning to seep through. The consequences of smashing glass against the back of someone’s skull. Police had shown up and you knew Tommy was across the room talking to them. But still, your eyes stayed glued on your hand. The cuts weren’t terrible but they stung something awful.

“Babe?” You finally looked up and met Nima’s concerned eyes. She nodded, “You alright?”

You shot her a small smile, “Yeah. Are you okay? I can’t believe he grabbed you.”

“I’m fine.” Nima peeked at your hand then stood. “I’m gonna see if this bar has a real first aid kit we can use. Be right back.”

She jumped up and jogged over to the bar. You sunk in your seat with a sigh and leaned your head against the back of the couch. There had been something very sobering about smashing the glass against that guy’s head. The adrenaline and pain cleared any lingering fog from your previous drinks right out of your head. It left room for you to think about Joel. Meeting his brother certainly didn’t help. Tommy clapped one of the officer’s on the shoulder with a smile and they went separate ways. You lifted your head when you heard his footsteps draw near.

“Well, I spoke to the police.” Tommy stuck his hands into his pockets. “You’re not gonna get in trouble for the, you know, the glass. Won’t have to go downtown with ‘em.” You breathed a sigh of relief. Tommy held your gaze for a few more seconds before scrunching his nose and bobbing his head toward you. “And Joel is, uh, on his way.”

You covered your face with your good hand and groaned, “Can I please just be arrested instead?”

“Sorry, no can do.” Tommy sat down beside you. “You know, I didn’t say it earlier, but it’s nice to finally meet you. Joel never shuts up about you.”

“Please. Don’t.” You blurted. “I can’t… I can’t talk about him right now.”

Tommy nodded, “Right. I, uh, when I called him we didn’t talk much.” He laced his fingers together and rested his arms on his knees. “I mentioned you were hurt and things kind of spiraled from there. That’s probably for the best though. I don’t wanna get in between a lover’s quarrel⏤”

“I’m not his lover.” You snapped, and you hated the way your voice cracked. You shook your head, “Not if he’s married. Not…” The adrenaline was beginning to wear off and you were exhausted to your very bones. “This is so fucked up. I never should've agreed to…

Tommy didn’t immediately reply. He sighed, “I don’t know you, and I don’t got the exact details of what’s going on right now, but… I’m glad you agreed.” He turned and met your gaze with a tight smile. “Joel’s been… He’s been better. Joel was in a rut for a long time. So long that I kind of forgot he was in one. For a while, that was just Joel.” Tommy’s smile grew as he chuckled. “But ever since the two of you met, it’s like this weight has been lifted from his shoulders. We’ve all noticed it, and we’re all thankful.”

  “He’s married.” You whispered. “And he didn’t tell me.”

Tommy rubbed the back of his neck, “I know, but it’s⏤ it’s not that simple.” He nervously chewed on his lower lip. “Can you just give him a chance to explain?” You flexed your hand and sucked in a sharp breath as pain lanced up your arm. “Consider it a favor for me.”

“A favor for you?” You snorted.

“Yeah. I kept you out of prison, remember?” Tommy joked.

You cracked a smile and Tommy’s smile widened in victory. Nima skipped back over and dropped into the seat on your other side. She pulled your hand into her lap and carefully unpeeled the cloth away. As Nima rewrapped your hand while Tommy criticized her technique and the two bickered over you. You couldn’t help but flex your hand when she finished.

“Come on, pinkie.” Tommy stood. “I’ll take you home.”

“Uh, I am not leaving my girl here alone.”

“Joel will be here soon.”

“Then I’m definitely not leaving her alone!”

You reached out to squeeze her wrist and gave her a reassuring nod, “I’ll be okay. Gotta talk to him eventually, right?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t have to be right now.” Nima argued. You pulled her into a hug to reassure her once again. Maybe this was a bad idea, but you had just smashed a glass against a guy’s head so the degree of your bad ideas couldn't possibly get worse. Nima sighed and stood up too. “Okay. You’re sure you’re fine?”

Tommy clapped his hands. “Joel’s a few minutes away. But we can stay until he gets here if you want.”

“No.” You shook your head. The thought of being alone for a minute was kind of nice. “You guys go.” Your eyes locked onto Nima. “If you’re okay with him driving you.” You glanced at Tommy. “No offense.”

He held his hands up in surrender and shrugged nonchalantly. Nima nodded, “We survived a bar brawl together. We’re bonded.” She grinned and pulled her strawberry purse around her shoulders. “Plus, worse comes to worse, I can stab him.”

“You can what now?” Tommy questioned.

“You’ve already offered me a ride. It’s too late to back out now.”

“Fine, pinkie.” Tommy waved her to follow. 

You watched them go and sunk in your seat. The sounds of the bar was decent background noise, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the noise in your head. You picked at the edges of the gauze wrapped around your hand. Your eyes felt heavy and if you weren’t careful you were going to pass out on this bar couch surrounded by strangers. It was the sound of a crash that startled you back into the moment, and when you looked up from your hand you realized the door had been thrown open hard enough to hit the wall. Joel stood in the doorway panicked and wild eyed. He wore a suit without the tie and his shirt was unbuttoned at the top.

You stayed silent, sinking further into your seat, and watched as Joel’s wide eyes scanned the room. His gaze finally landed on you, doing a double take, and when he realized where you were you saw his shoulders slump in relief. Joel jogged across the room until he was able to kneel down in front of you. Joel’s warm hands found your face, cupping it softly, as he sighed, “Sugar, what the hell is goin' on? Are you okay?” Joel’s eyes studied your face then glanced down at your hand. “Jesus, your hand. Tommy called me. Sugar, I⏤”

“I’m okay.” You whispered, throat growing tight, “I just wanna go home, Joel.”

Joel tensed and he nodded, “Yeah. Alright. Let’s get you home.”

The ride in the truck beside Joel may have been the most awkward and tense ride of your entire life. It was silent. The only sound coming from the road outside. Joel’s hands were white knuckled around the steering wheel. You assumed his tension had something to do with you ghosting him this evening. His truck pulled up outside your apartment complex and your alcohol soaked brain realized not only did you not have your keys but you also no longer had your phone. Both were sitting in Nima’s purse right now.

You opened the door fully prepared to sleep outside your apartment on the welcome mat like a lost dog, but Joel grasped you by the arm cautiously to hold you in place. “You got your key?” You twisted your lips knowing he wasn’t going to fall for a lie. “Where is your key?”

“With Nima.” You mumbled. “She has my phone too.”

Joel sighed and let go of you to instead grab the truck door and shut it. He buckled you back into the seat and began to drive once more. You wanted to ask where he was taking you, but none of the words would come out. You drowned in your indecision while picking at the bandage on your hand. Joel suddenly reached over and lightly pushed your hand away from the injury.

“Stop pickin' at it, sugar.”

“Where are we going?” You blurted.

Joel shifted in his seat, “My place.”

“I don’t wanna go to your place.” You mumbled.

“Don’t care.” Joel replied gruffly and you lifted your head to glare at his side profile. 

The tone of his voice stirred something inside you, and you felt the dormant anger start to reawaken. It had gotten buried under everything that happened, but now it was back full fledged. You sat up, “Take me back. I want to go home.”

“You don’t have your key.”

“I don’t care.” You snapped. “Take me home, Joel!”

“You’re comin' to my place where I know you can safely sleep it off, 'nd then tomorrow we’ll figure out how to get ya back into your apartment. Understood?”

You scoffed, “Don’t talk down to me. I’m not a child, Joel.”

“Oh, you’re not?” Joel scoffed. His tone was angry and frustrated. “Cause you’re sure as hell actin' like one.” He shot a glare in your direction before focusing back on the road. “Are you outta your goddamn mind?! Do you know how worried I was?” You crossed your arms and stared out the passenger window. “I don’ hear from you all day long. You disappear on me with no explanation 'nd then I get a call from my baby brother that you’ve been in a bar fight? And that you’re hurt?!” You stayed silent and Joel scoffed. “And now I get the silent treatment? Very mature.”

“You don’t want to argue with me on what’s mature, Joel.” You said, head whipping back to glare at him.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean??”

“You’re a hypocrite!”

“Excuse me?”

You scoffed, “It’s not very mature for a married man to pay a sugar baby for attention.” Joel hit the brakes and the seat belt caught you as the truck screeched to a stop. You glanced out the window to see his truck had reached a neighborhood and the streets were mostly void of other vehicles. When you turned back to Joel, you found him staring at you in a mix of shock and horror. You shook your head, “What was I, Joel? Some kind of midlife crisis?”

Pain could be seen through the horror, and he reached out to grab your wrist again. “No. No, that’s not…” Joel’s voice was hoarse and broken. He whispered your name. “Please. That’s not what this is.”

You tugged your arm away from his grip. “I don’t wanna talk about this right now, Joel. Either start driving again or I’m gonna get out.”

Joel kept his hands to himself as he slowly went back to driving. As if the awkward silence hadn’t been painful before it was downright agonizing now. You were pressing your thumb into the wounds of your palm just to try and keep from crying. Joel pulled into the driveway a few minutes later, and you couldn’t even get your brain to collect a single feature of the house in front of you. Joel jumped out of the truck and you stayed frozen. The passenger door opened but Joel didn’t move to pull you out. He held the top of the door frame and a foot rested on the running board so he could lean in just marginally.

“Sugar…”

“Don’t, Joel.” You said firmly. “Don’t.”

“Please just let me⏤”

“Are you married?”

Joel’s face crumpled in agony and he hung his head, “It’s… It’s not that simple. Just let me⏤”

“It’s a yes or no question.” You shrugged and tried to ignore the tears welling up in your eyes.

Joel looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. His eyes were squeezed shut, but he still refused to answer. You whispered his name. Finally, he lifted his gaze back to you and opened his mouth. His jaw hung open silently for a second before he could speak. “...Yes.”

You felt the tears lingering at the waterline drip down your cheeks and hastily began to wipe them away with your hands. Joel gasped and began to reach out but when you flinched he held back. He shook his head, “You’re bleedin'.”

The bandage around your hand was soaked with blood, probably from digging your thumb into the wounds, and when you felt your cheek with your fingertips they came back tinted red. You must have smeared it across your face. 

“Sugar, let me… let me take you inside.” Joel murmured. “Please. I know you’re… upset, 'nd you have every reason to hate me right now, but… just let me get you inside.” His hand reached out for you once more, but he stopped himself. “You can leave in the mornin', but for tonight just⏤ just let me take care of you. Please.”

You gave a small nod. It felt weak of you, but you reassured yourself that you had little to no other option. Your hand hurt, your head ached, you were exhausted to your very being, and deep down you were torn between wanting to yell and scream or curl into a ball and cry. Joel took a few steps back to allow you to climb down yourself, but when you wavered his arms shot out to try and steady you. Joel herded you toward the front door without actually touching you. 

Your eyebrows furrowed when you studied his front porch. The entire front of his house didn’t look like the typical rich LA style you were accustomed to seeing. In fact, his porch and front door reminded you of a quaint farmhouse. Joel unlocked his front door and held it open for you to walk in. Right inside the house, the foyer had an open style with a set of stairs pressed against the wall just up ahead. It opened straight into a large living room that evolved into a dining room with a matching open kitchen to the side. The entire back wall by the kitchen and dining area was made of glass but the back porch lights were off so you couldn’t see the view. 

Joel tossed his keys into a bowl sitting on an accent table against the wall right by the door. You glanced over to a little bench built into the wall on the other side beneath a set of bay windows. The rest of his furniture from what you could see was modern and plain. You were drunk off alcohol and misery, but your brain was still able to take the time to note that Joel’s furniture didn’t match what you imagined him to have.

“C’mon.” Joel motioned you up the stairs. He followed after you and when you reached the top of the stairs he pointed to the left. You stepped into the master bedroom and Joel slid in past you moving straight toward the master bath. While he rooted around for something, you glanced around his room. There was a king sized bed sitting in the middle of the room covered in dark green sheets. A window sat on either side of the bed. The wall to the right was where the bathroom door and the closet door sat, but on the left was a single loveseat pushed against the wall. All the furniture was dark brown including the large dresser against the wall by the door and the smaller bedside drawers on either side of the bed under the windows. You drifted toward one of the bedside drawers where a photo was propped up. It was of Joel and two young girls. Joel had shown you enough pictures of Sarah and Ellie for you to recognize them, but in this photo all three of them were significantly younger. 

The sound of a throat clearing made you look up to see Joel standing there with a first aid kit in hand. “Sit down for me?” You sat on the side of the bed and Joel sat beside you. He opened the kit then carefully unwrapped your hand. When he saw the three lines haphazardly cut into your palm he let out a soft hiss. “You hurtin' much?”

“It stings some.” You mumbled. He hummed in response and used an alcohol swab to clean up the cuts. Joel did so with soft touches and his eyes flickered to your features every second or so to check in on your status. You locked your jaw to bite back any sounds of pain that tried to slip out. 

“They look bad, but I don’ think they’ll need stitches.” Joel thought out loud. 

“Good.” You said. Joel grabbed some fresh gauze and began to wrap it around your hand. You studied his features as he focused so intently on the task at hand. His warm gaze was burned into your skin as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You had the urge to trace your fingers through the scruff along his jawline. When he finished, he lifted his gaze and his eyes locked with yours. The two of you stared at one another in tense silence. Pain and longing filled his brown eyes, and you wondered if it could somehow just be a reflection of your own. It made no sense for you to both be so miserable right now. “Where is she?”

Joel tensed, “What?”

“Where is your wife?” You asked more firmly. 

“Are you sure you wanna get into this tonight?”

“I just want answers, Joel.” You sighed. “I need something. My mind has been a mess since we left Vegas.” Joel’s face crumpled as he closed his eyes with a sigh. “Yo-yo told me I wasn’t your first sugar baby and then she said you were married to your first sugar baby.” The words were falling out like pouring water now. “And then Nima has a cousin who has a cousin who has a friend or something that was able to find your marriage certificate⏤”

Joel murmured your name in reverence and opened his eyes. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you from the start. That way there’d be no miscommunication or confusion. I meant to. But… I kept puttin' it off 'nd it got to the point where too much time had passed…” Joel hesitantly reached out for you and when you didn’t shy away he settled his hand on your arm. “I did have a sugar baby before you. It’s a… long story, but I am not married to her.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed, “You didn’t marry her?”

“No. Absolutely not. She was… Like I said, it’s a long story.” Joel squeezed your arm. “One that I promise to tell you. In the mornin', when you’re not half drunk 'nd half hungover all at once.”

“Then who the hell are you married to, Joel?”

“I… I am technically still married to Celina.” Joel finally spat the words out. You shook your head in confusion. The name was foreign to you, but Joel heaved another sigh and added, “Sarah’s mom.”

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@weddingfairy @bfences @jasminedragon @biwitchy @huffle-punk @shelbyteller @anoverwhelmingdin @aheadfullofsteverogers @stagerightlauren @basicoccult @boofy1998 @farintonorth @thepascalofus @amatis-gray @casa-boiardi @northernbluess @jettia @sapphicsoie @spidey-3 @hrtsforpascal @gingersince97 @sentients17 @bigboiseason123 @lunxramour @ktheunready @heyheyheygaypay @keepingupwiththeskywalkers @adoringanakin @come-hell-or-eldren-fire @cherriebat @whitewolfstar01 @alyssa121611 @asreadbyaj @painfullyandprettypoetic @cantobightcafe @str84pedro

[previous][next]

✨J.M. Masterlist✨

[lizaluvsthis]

Sparks in the air

This fanfic is dedicaded to @shygirl4991 and @alianarepasa for Mothers Day! Thank you for being our found family!

Summary- Smg4 receives an official invite from a group of famous content creators such as himself to work with them.

It's always been a dream for him yet he has to leave his home and friends forever. After careful consideration, he decided to pursue his dream and packed up his things.

His friends threw him a going away party, and he was sad to leave but what bothered him the most was that he hasn’t seen too much of his meme guardian partner lately since he announced he was leaving...

INSPIRED BY - The show “Friends”

References:

Notebook (from Spiderverse Part 1) -Liz

Holding hands episode -Aj

Written by @itsajanea and @lizaluvsthis

Illustrations by @lizaluvsthis

Gmods by @itsajanea

COMBINED IDEAS BY THE EGG N’ BEEG DUO

[AJ]

3rd Pov

“GUYS, GUYS LOOK WHAT I HAVE!” Smg4 yelled excitedly, running into the room, and waving what seemed to be a half-open letter. The crew looked at him with confusion but expected it was good based on his reaction.

“ I got an official invite to work with the best content creators!!” The blue meme guardian starts jumping up and down, waving the letter in the air.

The others were happy for him and celebrated with him.

Something slipped from the inside of the envelope and fell onto the floor, Meggy picked it up and stared at it before turning back to look at the happy Smg4.

“Ummmm Smg4, did you read the ENTIRE letter?” Meggy calls out to him, catching everyone else's attention as she waves a small plane ticket.

Smg4 looked back at the invitation in his hand and took out the letter from the envelope only to realize it was also talking about him moving away from his current residence

“Oh, it says that I will be going away for a long time…” What once was happy cheers turned into a sad moment of silence, until Mario shuffled up to him and gave him a big ol hug.

“Mario understands how much this means to you, and Mario is very happy.” He softly said, hugging the other tighter while he held back some tears. Smg4 hugged the red plumber back and soon everyone joined in the group hug, it was nice and comforting for the man.

All except for one, Smg3. He looked back at the group making sure no one noticed him hiding his tears before running off.

Smg4 Pov

It's been a couple of days since I got that invite… I should be finished packing by now, yet I don't want to move.

I’ve been lying here, staring at the ceiling for quite a while and I hear some noise outside.

They told me earlier that I should stay in here for a while so they’re probably throwing a party for me which is nice but… something feels wrong.

I sat up and looked at the boxes surrounding the room, I finally got up and walked around the place, reminiscing about the time I spent here.

I spotted a glimpse of a certain picture inside the box and I took it out. I smiled seeing the picture of me and the gang, we all looked so happy, I pulled out another picture from the box and it was of the two of us.

“Three…” I frown just thinking of him, I haven’t seen him in a while since I said to everyone that I accepted the offer.

And even when I DID see him, he’d just avoid me.

I bet he’s just mad that I got a good deal instead of him. I rolled my eyes and shoved the picture back into the box, walked away, and found myself looking back at the box.

Even though I'm a little mad at him… I’ll still miss him, like everyone else but I think I’ll miss him the most. But we know that I have to leave soon, so I better finish packing.

I grabbed an empty box and started packing some stuff in it, later on, I finished packing all my stuff so I took off my hat, lay on my bed and I stared at the wall to my right.

I waited for a while for the others to finish outside but I can’t help thinking about him. I turned to the left, looking at that space beside me and for some reason, I felt something was missing in that very spot.

I closed my eyes and drifted off into a deep slumber.

…

Suddenly I felt a gentle breeze, I opened my eyes and found myself sitting on the grassy plains, staring at a purple sky, It was a sight to see and reminded me of someone-

I looked around the beautiful plains and saw 3 in the distance, I got up and rushed over to him yet I had a weird feeling.

When I called out his name, he looked at me with an enraged look, clenching his fists and what shocked me more was when he spoke in a sarcastic tone.

“Congratulations Smg4, you got what you wanted, now you can go off with your new friends.”

He then started walking away, I tried catching up, pleading with him to understand what he meant. I thought he would understand.

I tried reaching my hand out to him

and then the next thing I knew… I woke up, realizing I was reaching for something that wasn’t there

I tried relaxing my mind because it didn’t matter, for now, maybe I’d see him later and we could talk if he would be here.

“Oh ES-EM-GEE-FOUR!” I hear Mario’s call, which means I can finally come out now. I fixed my hair, put on my hat, and was ready to get out.

When I stepped out, I noticed all the decorations and everyone I knew. They all yelled out in excitement and came rushing towards me. I was overjoyed, even though it may be the last, I'm glad to see everyone again.

While chatting with one of my old friends, I see Smg3 just standing there.

I excused myself and walked up to him til Mario just popped out of nowhere. I was stuck talking to him for a while and saw 3 leaving the party too soon. He looked at me with a cold stare before disappearing from my gaze.

What did I do wrong?

3rd Pov

It was after the party that Smg4 couldn’t sleep, that look 3 gave him shook him to his core. It made him angry for some reason. Why couldn’t he be happy for him just once, just because he was the one who got an amazing offer?

4 could’ve tried sleeping, his flight is in the morning but it bothered him too much to the point where he decided to go march over to 3’s place and give him a piece of his mind.

He took his hat and entered the shop, while riding down the elevator he thought of what to say and then

Ding

He got off the elevator and yelled out

“THREE! WHY THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN AVOIDING ME THIS PAST-”

Smg3 sat on his bed, hugging himself while he cried in anguish. Surrounded by a mess and Eggdog, who was trying his best to comfort his beloved father he still weeps.

4 felt devastated, he felt sick to his stomach seeing the other in this state. He had never seen 3 in such a terrible state like this before.

“Three…” He softly says, slowly approaching the other before 3 stared at the man intensely, his eyes were red and puffy, and he kept gasping for air and felt his body tremble.

“Get out.” 3 quietly answered, pausing to wipe his face on his shirt. “Now…”

“But I-”

“I SAID GET OUT, GET OUT NOW” he raised his voice and threw the nearest object he could find at 4.

4 was able to dodge it but he still had goosebumps. Before he could speak, 3 threw another object at him and kept throwing more and more objects while yelling at him

“GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!!!”

[Liz]

A moment without thinking, he threw the only thing that felt important to him…

His secret diary… his notebook… the one that he hides most often when he’s around with four or any other of the crew members.

“Three! Please stop- we can talk about this-” Four trying his best to cover his face with his arm on defense.

He was brought by surprise just the second he saw a notebook coming closer that was about to his face.

It was too late for him to dodge it, right after the split second he noticed that it was SMG3’s diary. The sharp corner hit his forehead and fell to the floor.

“OW!” SMG4 knocked himself back to the ground, with his eyes closed. His hat fell off to the floor, and the amount of pictures and notes flew out of the pages from three’s notebook.

Like how it exploded in the air.

The notes and pictures that scattered across the room, gave Three a quick moment of realization then his face turned pale. Feeling shocked after realizing what he had just done.

Seeing Four has a tiny scratch from the impact and the purple notebook he owns. Just right in front of him…

Three starts to panic after he gave himself a second to think, he f-cked up pretty badly…

“SHIT- SHIT- SHIT!” he hurriedly grabs the photos and the other notes lying on the ground, and Four rubs his forehead then finally opens his eyes to see papers falling.

As one of them falls and lands in Four’s hand, he slowly picks up the note to try and read what the handwriting says.

Three’s handwriting is oddly new to him since he’d never seen much of his writing before, looking a bit closer now. He reads a simple note of-

“Today, Four made me laugh. I honestly hated how soft I am to this baka but the joke was funny tho.”

Then to the bottom after the text, it shows a doodle of him and Three laughing together, just the two of them sitting on the bench.

“What…” he saw two marked pink colored hearts, one beside four and one beside three.

Three’s heart started pounding, this can’t be happening to him right now. But then again it was too late to stop him.

As Four carefully placed the note down with now seemingly widened eyes, his other hand moved to the other side reaching out for another picture.

It was a picture of him and Three back when they were both in their recolored designs. Back when Three seemed to like Four a little bit…

The picture is back on Christmas when Four insists on taking a selfie with him and Three while Mario is the one to use the camera. SMG3 felt a bit uncomfortable with the idea but Four still insisted.

Grabbing him around the shoulder, Three is seen blushing red in the camera while Four just smiles casually.

[AJ]

“You kept this….” 3 took the picture away from him, his face was red and he was extremely frustrated with 4.

[Liz]

“I…” Three wanted to respond but never dared to. SMG3 felt like his whole world tore apart right after a single thing he’d done. Now everything about his friendship with Four is destroyed.

Four tilted his head from side to side seeing all of the notes that were all mostly drawings of him and the pictures Three and him have been together or even without three and just him only marked with pink hearts all over.

“Three… you… you’ve been hiding all of this from me this whole time…?” Deep silence caused Four to get more upset. “Three… please…” “Stop.” The notes three were holding are now crushed right after clenching his fist.

“YOU WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING AT ALL!” He slapped Four’s hand away after trying to reach him.

“Then just tell me-”

“FOR MEMES SAKE- WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS SO DENSE? I LIKE YOU IDIOT?!”

Three snapped out to Four as soon as he kept pushing Three to finally admit these feelings that he’d never given to him years from now.

Four, still lying down on the ground, looked up at Three to see the tired look on his face. His red cheeks were visible enough and had been caught in tears streaming down from his eyes.

He took a harsh breath and began to avoid his stare, he looked down to his side. “There…” he took every second to catch up on his words, taking deep breaths to regain his stamina.

“Now… you know…” his eyes kept watering, it made him want to wipe it off. He was still mad at him during this time, he just wished that Four would go away.

Yet the man refuses to leave him alone.

Smg4 Pov

“Why didn’t he tell me…?”

My thoughts wandered from his act, I had never seen him like this before.

But when he finally said that he had feelings for me… I didn’t know why it just stabbed my heart after hearing him this broken.

I spoke right to his front, trying to understand why he kept avoiding me.

"But why 3... if you felt this way, then why didn't you at least see me one last time?"

“Was it selfishness…? Was he jealous…? Did he hate it when I said I was leaving…?”

Three as soon as he wiped his tears, he turned to me and stared right into my eyes with hatred and pain.

"BECAUSE IT HURTS FOUR! It hurts so bad seeing you leave and I CAN’T DO SHIT ABOUT IT…"

…

Oh…

(shit… I fucked up pretty badly… didn’t I…)

As much as I want to follow the path I’ve always dreamed of achieving, I promised myself to never hold back. Never LOOK back. But just seeing Three like this I don’t think I could ever say no just by baring to look at his eyes.

“Three… you know we both have been friends right…?” I saw him backing away from me and avoiding my glances, He kept picking up other of the notes that were left on the floor as soon as I saw the notebook right in front of me, one of the pages seemingly read as “SMG4” which was my name, is written on the lines.

“Dear Diary, I wish that SMG4 would have stayed here. But there's nothing that I can do now, I guess no one ever stays the same once there is one important thing way ahead in people's lives.

He’s leaving too. I don’t want him to, there's so many things that he’s done here. And now that he just started to leave? What kind of idiot does that man think he is? It’s not fair.”

There was a space gap in the paragraph, the last sentence is crossed out of the line. I leaned in closer to read the final letters. “I wish I could tell him- about how I feel-” The notebook is shut closed in my face as Three snatched it away.

“You’re moving away from us today… Leave me be… I don’t want to discuss any of this anymore” Three puts the remaining notes back on the pages and puts them back in the drawer, shutting it loudly.

Third Pov

“You should leave… Before you might miss the airport” Four got up from the ground and picked up his hat, putting it back on his head. “Can we just talk this out?”

“You don’t want to know how heavy it is to me when you’re gone.

I’ve waited every OTHER MOMENT of our time to get together but NO!

You wanted what you wished to get and you already had your time here, you enjoyed the celebration, the party, your friends, Mario, and everyone who was all up to support your dream. But me?

I’ve already run out of time, thinking about what could happen between the two of us, when you’re not by my side…”

Four wanted to speak to him, he wanted to hug him tightly. If he had to choose between the options of either leaving or staying, he could never decide.

What will he ever listen to? His heart or his head? But he could never decide about this, not with the one he loved, his friend that he broke his attachment to just because of moving far long away.

Which one should he decide…? Even though it was his dream… his partner…

He had already decided that following his dream was the only choice for him to do so, yet he also had no choice since he accepted that letter.

“I’m sorry…” Four backed away and ran to the elevator, Three was left alone from the scene.

—--

Four had finally had his luggage packed and was hugged by Mario and then by every other of his crew members.

“Mario’s gonna miss you very much!”

“I agree with Red, things are never the same without you around and…” Meggy and Mario gave each other looks and went completely silent right after they gave a sad one.

“Guys, what’s the matter?” They both looked at him with sad eyes as Meggy spoke the second time.

“Three was barely seen around the party. It seems like me and Mario wondered that it’s worrying him that you’ll be gone…”

Mario pulled out a meme quote out of the random. “Mario smells GAY DRAMA from you” His mustache grew as he sniffed him.

Four couldn’t help but think about what happened back to his lair. Was it all true? Did he- as in SMG3 have this kind of romantic feeling for him?

He tried not to think much about it since he was running out of time.

He knew he had to go but there's just something wanting to let him stay there, someone… who in particular was Three.

“Oh, yeah right. Him…” He immediately felt bad about the words he said to him, he couldn’t ever forget about it, it felt like the words were stuck to his head.

“SMG4- did something happen with your boyfriend? Did you both fight or something?” SMG4 flinched after hearing Mario say the word.

He began to back away from his words defending himself “What? We’re not boyfriends! He and I just had a misunderstanding- "On what exactly?” Meggy grinned in curiosity.

[AJ]

A honk of the bus caught everyone off guard, They all knew this moment would come sooner or later and they all had to be strong for their friend.

The crew gathered for one last hug before Smg4 stepped onto the vehicle.

He sat down and looked outside the window, seeing everyone waving him goodbye while the bus began to move.

He had one last glimpse of them, the showgrounds and Three’s Coffee shop.

He only saw for a moment, but swore that he did see Three watching him leave before going back inside.

The man in blue felt blue once again, he put on his headphones and watched some memes to make him feel better but nothing helped…

Smg4 then closed his eyes for a little while, waiting for him to reach the airport.

—--

After he was cleared for inspection, Four got on the plane earlier than expected. He should feel excited, overjoyed, and thrilled even for this wonderful opportunity yet he still feels upset.

He felt tired, he took his hat off for a breather and ran his hand through his hair. Looking at the lights and looking back down at his hat, noticing a small folded-up note inside.

Smg4 opened it up, expecting it was a fun quirky letter left behind by his friends but instead he was greeted with an old photo he took with Smg3 not so long ago, before the whole YouTube thing.

He had convinced Three at the time to take a selfie with him, Four giving his usual goofy grin while Three who was looking at the other just smiled, with his face colored with a bright tint of red.

There was also an added note written in purple ink, “I just love him and his goofy ahh smile so much” dotted with hearts.

The whole world felt like it stopped for Four, he held the picture close to face and he now knew for sure that deep down in his heart.

“I love him”

Smg4 Pov

“I love him, I do love him!” After so long I finally understood, I always felt that we were just more than friends. GOD I’ve been such an idiot, It's been so obvious this whole time!

I just love him so… but if I do love him, What the heck am I doing?

I look around me to see the plane filled up, If I do love him what am I still doing here?

This whole YouTube thing can wait, I need to see him, I need to get off the plane.

I put back the picture and wore my hat, grabbed my bag, and was determined to go after him.

Jumped out of my seat and rushed down the aisle, I could feel the stares of people I passed by but It didn't matter.

“Sir, you need to go back to your seat.” The flight attendant lady stood in my way, denying me the exit that was right there.

“But Miss-” I replied “I need to get off, I need to do something”

“I'm sorry, but I cannot allow you to leave-” We felt the plane shake as it began to take off.

Oh no.

—-

3rd POV

After a long day of serving customers, 3 placed a sign on the front door saying “We’re Closed”, grabbed a broom, and cleaned up. He sighs, wondering what could have been. If he had told 4 sooner than later, Would they have been happy? Would they still have to come across this problem? But, It's too late anyway, 4 made up his mind and he has to deal with it.

Smg3 kept on sweeping and sweeping, then he heard somebody enter.

“Oi! Shops closed!” He didn’t bother facing the person, he wasn’t in the mood at all.

“3…”

He recognized that voice, it was impossible. He turned around to see if it was real.

“I got off the plane” It was Four, standing in front of him with a sincere smile.

[Liz]

Smg3 scanned the area where Four dropped his suitcase.

The suitcase tumbled to the ground with a dull thud, and it landed face down, the wheels clattering against the floor.

Three’s face contorted into a surprised expression, His partner darted forward, sprinting to embrace him and open his arms wide.

Four’s arms held tightly to SMG3’s waist, and he lifted him into the air, spinning him around quickly, with their faces beaming with joy.

SMG4 carefully lowered SMG3 back down to the floor, their reunion now complete.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been missing you for so long, you idiot…” Three said softly. They turned to look at Four, who was now facing them with a rage-filled expression.

He, however, was not so quick to forgive and forget, and he let go of SMG4’s arms. Turning around as he punched him in the face, with all of the anger and resentment he had pent up over the years. “Ow, that hurt-” “Well that’s what you get for leaving me!” Three said.

Four rubbed his cheek after the punch, his face hurting yet understanding why SMG3 reacted the way he did.

After all, he had left him without even saying goodbye, acting like a true jerk-face. “I guess I deserve that. I’m sorry I hurt you.” Four said trying to reach for his hand to mend their relationship.

Three backed his hand away from him, he couldn’t bring himself to meet Four’s gaze, avoiding eye contact with him. He started to speak, but stopped his sentence, realizing something. “You didn’t make it to the flight…?” He asked as if it had just clicked in his mind.

“I came back to tell you something…” Four replied. “To tell you how much I loved you…” He offered his hand once more, and this time, Three accepted his hand, their bodies finally close as they embraced each other.

Three’s voice rose in an upset tone as he asked, “But what about the invitation? The content creations?” Aren’t you supposed to be following your dream?”

Four gave him a soft and warm smile and replied “I decided to follow my heart, the path I want to choose. I chose you, and our other friends.” He hugged SMG3 tightly and said. “I’m sorry for leaving you…” his response surprised Three.

“So- you’re not leaving?” Three questioned with wide eyes, feeling so much relief that a smile spread across his face. Four shook his head in reply and said, “No, I’ll never leave you or anyone else. I promise.”

Three’s eyes welled up as all the emotions flooded his mind, he felt relieved and overcome with happiness.

SMG4 noticed this and quickly wiped the tears away from the man’s cheek, saying “Hey, you’re crying.”

Three gave him a laugh and replied, “I’m just glad that you came back…” He then gave the man in blue a kiss.

Four was taken aback by the sudden display of attention, he was not prepared for the display of affection that Three had recently given him just now.

Four’s eyes immediately closed as Three pulled him in for a kiss. The long, drawn-out kiss was now the end, and all that could be seen was two lovers locked in a passionate embrace.

-THE END-

[flowershines]

Hi, can you do hot tub sex with jungwon? The reader and jungwon were last to get out of the hot tub, and jungwon gets hard as the reader tease jungwon

ofcc! sorry if it took a hot minute for me to respond but anyways love the idea!

{warnings} ⇨ smut, mentions of sex

not proof read

“Come on Y/n, feels so nice.” Niki stated as his arms swayed over the water feeling the warm temperature sink into his skin, you on the other hand had been laying on the tanning bed reading one of your favorite books; that was always in your hand. “I’m still reading.” A sigh was heard from the man child who sat with the other members in the hot tub “You’re no fun Y/n.” the eldest man whined, “Jungwon get her in here.” Jungwon had gotten out of the hot tub to use the bathroom a few minutes ago so when you heard sudden footsteps behind you; you already knew who it was. Feeling his presence sent goosebumps around your entire body while his warm breath tickled your ear whispering a soft “Not coming in with us, gorgeous?” shaking your head you held up your book, which caused him to groan. “You’re always reading that book, what’s it even about anyways?” You wanted to answer his question; you truly did but which part should you tell him? The part where the whole reason the two characters got together was because they found out the love each other by a one night stand, or maybe the scene which leads to their marriage where they had fucked while camping. “It’s complicated.” How else were you supposed to explain it to your innocent boyfriend? He placed his hand over the cover of the book as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

His long slender fingers trailed to the spine of the book; taking it from your grasp causing a small “Give it back” to leave your lips, he held out his hand; waiting for your hand to be placed onto his. “Come on.” He demanded, you moved your hand on top of his while your other hand tried to grab your book from his other hand. Grabbing your wrist he squeezed it slightly as his motions told you to stop, hand still intertwined one foot after the other he had lead the both of you to the other members. “Finally.” Niki said as he rolled his eyes your boyfriend had gotten in the hot tub and tapped his thigh signaling you to sit on his lap. Sticking a small part of your foot it you tried to get used to the warm temperature as the water started to slowly surround your body, your boyfriend’s hands wrapped around your hips; pushing you closer onto his lap.

Settling down on his lap you tried your hardest to keep the book nice and dry due to the bubbles forming in the water, wrapping your arms around his neck you placed your book on the shelf behind him which gave you the perfect access to read your book. Flipping to the page your bookmark had been holding the spot for, your eyes moved along with every word on the page while the conversation between your boyfriend and his friends continued. “Y/n what are you reading?” Jake asked trying to look onto the page, putting your hand onto the page you grabbed the cover of the book and shut the book on your hand.

“It’s complicated.” He rolled his eyes “Can’t be that complicated.” he stated as he reached for your book with his wet hand “Don’t touch it, your wet.” “My hand have been resting on the shelf, see?” putting his hands in the hair as he flipped them; giving you time to scan his hands for droplets of water. Eyes scanning his hands for water his other hand has snaked up to your book and pulling it from your grasp, as his eyes wondered on the page you could tell he found the scene you had been reading.

His eyes looked at you from the side as a small smirk appeared on his lip, “Yeah, I guess it is complicated.” placing the book onto your opened hand. “Can I read it?” Your boyfriend whispered into your neck which had sent shivers through your entire body, his voice was so smooth his hair was parted in the middle as it was slightly curled while small strands stuck to his forehead. He looked so beautiful, how could you say no. Leaning back you held the book facing him since his hands had been in the water the entire time, his eyes widened when he read ‘…a whimper escaped her mouth and shot straight to my groin, hardening my already aching cock…’ along with multiple suggestive words printed on the page.

Eyes lifting themselves off the pages to now staring into your eyes, worry and lust was the only thing running through your mind as you had no idea what to think. The men behind you all started to continue their conversation they had before, you couldn’t see them though. Everything around you both seemed to have disappeared; feeling like it was just you two in the hot tub, his eyes seem to concentrate on yours. You tried to sense his emotions through his body language but came up empty handed; until you could feel his chest start to move faster my the minute as his breaths became heavier and shallow, “Say something.” you mouthed placing the book back onto the ledge as you looked everywhere but into his eyes feeling embarrassed by the situation in front of you.

His body tensed as you spoke, his hands snuck up to your waist as he whispered a small “sorry”. Looking up into his eyes as they meet, his eyebrows furrowed as you raised yours questionably at his words, “Why a-” before you could even get out another word your question had been answered by his actions. The hands that had been resting on your hips are now pushing you further into his groin as you can now feel his growing bulge form through his baiting suit, remembering the members had been in the same place you both were caused you to turn your head around; breaking the eye contact with your boyfriend, turned out that as your eyes were only fixated on the man in front of you the others had gotten out and headed to the dorms leaving you both there alone.

“Wonnie are y-” his words cut you off; already answering your question “Yes, i’m sorry. I couldn’t help but think of you while reading that scene.” His eyes started to scan your figure’s language nervously trying to understand weather or not you had minded his aching problem. Cupping his cheeks you placed a soft kiss onto his lips reassuring him that everything is okay, “It’s okay Wonnie, it’s cute honestly.” his eyes met yours once again this time there was lust present not just in his eyes but yours as well. Placing your hands on his shoulder you started to slowly move on his bulge causing a groan to slip out from his lips, his words started to mumble and become incoherent with every movement you made.

Snaking your hand down his chest and to his groin his eyes rolled back just from your touch; you thought it was so cute how the slightest touch can have him cum in his pants, “P-please to-uch me.” he whined which made your smile brighten knowing the effect you have on him. Tangling your fingers in the waistband of his bathing suit you moved slightly closer to his knees as it allowed you to pull his dick out of the cloth that maintained keeping his cock in them, your eyes trailed down from his soft abs to his dick which was aching to be touched as it twitched in your hand. His tip was bright red while trailing your fingers down to his base you could easily tell where every vein was, his hips rutted up to your touch but as he moved instantly his eyes looked into yours apologetically. “Sorry, it f-feels too goo-d.”

Stroking his wet, curly hair you reassured his thoughts “Baby, don’t be sorry. I want to make you feel good.” your lips trailed down to his neck which was covered in his cologne; sending you over the edge, grabbing his cock you started to stroke him at a slow place. His face alone makes you want to worship him but his body is a complete different story you would do anything just to show him the love he deserves, letting go of his cock you pushed your book further onto the shelves away from the water as you grabbed his wrist leading him to the steps where you walked in. He sat on the highest step which was completely out of the water, you had moved two steps downwards so that way you were mouth level to his dick.

His hand moved to his cock giving it a couple of strokes as he looked into your eyes maintaining the eye contact as he continued to jerk himself off, his bottom lip had gotten tangled in between his teeth; trying to keep himself from making noises incase the members were tuning in. “You’re so gorgeous, how are you my girlfriend?” He breathed out breathlessly “Says you.” giggling at the fact he is almost literally a model but that was besides the point, swatting his hand away you looked up at him as your face inched closer and closer to his aching problem.

His hands movements become antsy; moving them to his side then your hair then his cock and repeat, lifting your head back up you placed his hands by his side as you immediately placed his cock in your mouth. His hips jerked up into your mouth as he held the sides of your head slightly fucking up into your mouth, words of encouragement and pleasure left his lips saying: “Fuck yes.”, “You’re doing so fucking good.”, “Yes, Yes, Yes.”, “My princess, so gorgeous.”, “Don’t do that or you’re going to make me cum.”.

His fingers tangled in your hair as his movements slowly start to become more and more random and fast; he was close, “Fuck Bab-y keep g-going.” his words elongated the words of encouragement flowed through your ears it only made you want to deny is orgasm more and more. “Fuck cumming, baby i’m gonna cum.” The sentence he spoke was fast and in a hurry, you lifted your head off of his cock as his hand started to move in fast motions while his mouth was wide open as well as his eyes were rolled back.

A broken moan fell from his lips as you placed your finger over his tip; stopping his pleasurable actions, a whine left him “Please.” he repeated multiple times “I’ll be good I swear.” kissing his temple you got out of the hot tub and said “When we get to the dorms i can give you more than just one orgasm.” Footsteps followed behind you soon after you spoke.

[fanaticsnail]

have a small drabble as a gift for your hard work

Darlin'

TW: NSFW, MDNI, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, body worship if you squint

"C'mon darlin', I know you can do it, you can cum again on my tongue."

It was all he said as he ruthlessly ate you out in hopes of making you cum for the who-knows-how-many time, a choked moan falling out of your lips when his lips latched to your oversensitive clit and sucked in a way that made you see stars. Your hips bucked by themselves, sore back supported by his strong hand as he held you still in his grasp. The juices from your previous climaxes still coated the lower part of his face as he reverently worshipped you by showering the source of said juices in long licks and experienced open-mouthed kisses. One of your thighs spasmed around his head as the other quivered in his hold to spread you open, signalling him of your impending orgasm. His ministrations stepped up a level, starting to lick and hit that sweet spot in you faster and harder. Cries and moans mingling together in their ever-rising pitch, all it took was a small nip to your bud to make you cum harshly on his face, legs weakly jerking and body lifted off the bed. He didn't stop his licks, instead opting to drink in your release like a man stranded on a desert for weeks without food and water. The break only came when it became too much and you tugged at his hair, a silent plea to pause his actions. He merely gazed up at you with such an innocent and reverent gaze that made you feel both like a god sitting on the highest throne in the entire universe and like he hadn't unravelled you so many times it's uncountable by now in the few hours he was allowed to show his undying, neverending love for you. As you slowly came down from your high, white noise still ringing in your ears, he had already climbed up to nuzzle his nose against your cheek to whisper quietly with barely covered lust,

"So nice and pretty. Can you do it again for me, darlin'?"

Benn Beckman, Hawk-Eyes Mihawk, Shanks, Smoker, Zoro, Killer

I don't even know where to begin or what to say.

Thank you so much for this. Right into the October, I needed something to spur me on. Bloody hell.

I'm gonna be thinking about this for a while. I need to lie down. Thank you for this beautiful gift. I am screaming.

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | part twelve

summary: luca meets the kimura family. you and joe grieve together.

warnings: angst, grief, death, fluff, conversations about divorce, second person pov, swearing, very little connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 4k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist

a/n: while this is in fact the second to last chapter, i will write more of them. teehee. but also, can we believe we only have one more chapter left?! let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part eleven | masterlist | part thirteen

This is not how you pictured starting October, grieving the loss of the matriarch of the family you once called your own, while on the precipice of something new. Straddling the intersection of the old guard and the new feels more complicated than you imagined, because how does one manage to feel so full, so loved, yet consumed by so much despair all at once?

Not to mention the merging of your two worlds: your old life in London and your new one in Copenhagen.

Your new one in Copenhagen with Luca. 

The ceremony, mostly just for ritualistic purposes, considering Aiko was cremated – something only the Kimura siblings had been a part of, was held in the backyard of the Kimura. childhood home. You watch as your worlds collide, like two cars crashing into one another – something that seems inevitable, yet still manages to be equally strange, jarring, and confusing. Luca reaches across to shake Astrid’s hand, initiating the action of the merging of your two words. 

“I’m Luca. It’s nice to meet you. I’m so sorry for your loss,” he says, his voice compassionate and kind. 

“Thank you,” Astrid replies, a small smile on her face as she looks Luca in the eyes. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances but. Thank you for coming.” “‘Course.”

“It’s so good to see you,” you exhale, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as your best friend wraps you up in her arms. 

You and Luca had shown up just before the ceremony started, and hadn’t even had a chance to say hello yet. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if it’d be right, if it’d be appropriate to show any earlier, wanting to give Joe, Astrid, and Lina the time they’d need beforehand. 

“I’m so glad you were able to make it,” she says, squeezing you tighter than normal. 

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” you assure her, as you pull back from your embrace. “It was a beautiful ceremony.” 

“Thanks,” Astrid nods. “Think she would’ve rather liked it.” 

You take a good look at your former sister-in-law. She looks tired, sad – the kind of tired and sad you get from running the entire show, from project managing your own mother’s posthumous arrangements. 

“Thank you for coming,” Astrid repeats, her compliment genuine, before zeroing in on Luca. “The both of you.” Somehow, in the midst of her mother’s funeral, Astrid still has the energy to send you a look – that look – the kind of look that says ‘we WILL be talking about this hottie later.’ 

“Love?” Luca asks you, as you turn your head to look at him. 

“Yeah?” you ask back. 

“I’m going to head back inside,” he begins, placing a gentle touch against your low back. “Let you say hello to your friends. But please. Take your time.” 

As you open your mouth to say something, it’s as if the timing couldn’t be better (or worse, but you’ll figure out how you feel about it later), as you spot both Joe and Lina approaching. They exchange a few words quietly between each other, walking over to you, Luca, and Astrid.

Joe walks with a sureness that comes from a lifetime spent being the golden son in a family full of daughters, while Lina keeps close to his side, protectively. 

“Hey, thanks for coming, mate,” Joe says, immediately extending a hand in Luca’s direction. His voice is warm, friendly, yet distant, as if he’s putting on his bravest face to get through this afternoon. 

“I’m Luca. Hi,” Luca introduces himself, meeting Joe’s assuredness with his own. 

“Joe. Joe Kimura,” Joe replies, shaking the blonde’s hand. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Luca says, courteously, your hand brushing against his at your sides. Joe only nods, his lips pressed together in a polite, yet tight smile, before shifting his attention over to you.

“Joe,” you address him, a small smile on your lips as you greet your ex-husband. “It’s-, it’s good to see you.”

It’s strange really, standing next to your new boyfriend, one that brings you comfort, that makes you feel safe and loved, in a moment of sheer vulnerability and heartbreak across from your ex-husband. 

“Hey. Thanks for coming. She would’ve been so happy to see you here,” he says, something softer in his voice as he refers to his late mother. Joe pulls you into a friendly, yet strained hug before releasing you. 

“Yeah, of course,” you reply, pulling away. “I really wanted to be here.” 

He nods, watching as you take a few steps backwards, so that you’re standing side by side with Luca once more. Lina lets out a disappointed sigh before greeting you, her greeting much more tense with Luca as he introduces himself to the last member of the Kimura family he’s yet to meet. The exchange is thick with awkward tension, but there’s no animus in it, from anyone, really. You don’t talk for long – just a few exchanges back and forth as everyone meets everyone – till Luca reminds you that he’s got to go on his way to meet up with his mum. 

“I’ll walk you out,” you offer, before excusing yourself from your conversation with the Kimura siblings. 

You know this home well, pushing through the crowd of people gathered in the family home, and out the front door. You’re not surprised that so many people have shown up to celebrate the life of Aiko Kimura, the legacy she leaves behind, apparent. 

“No need to rush, love. Feel free to stick around for as long as you need,” Luca says, with patience and grace in the words he says. 

You nod, giving him a half smile as you reply, “Yeah, I will. Have fun with your mom too.” 

There’s a pause between the two of you, both of you unsure of how to fill it. There are so many things you want to say, with no idea of where to start, or how to say them. 

“This is weird, right?” you ask, chuckling as a means to break some of the tension. 

He nods, cracking a half smile of his own, “Yeah, there are other ways I’d imagined meeting your ex-husband.”

You shake your head incredulously, as you sigh. The reality of the situation would be humorous if it were under any other circumstances, really. 

“How ya holdin’ up’?” Luca asks you, checking in before he goes. 

“I’ll uh… let you know when I know,” you answer, honestly. 

He mutters something under his breath, something about understanding, as he pulls you in close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, hugging you close. 

“Thank you for coming. Thank you for being here with me,” you whisper, against his chest.

“No need to thank me, my love. I’m here for you,” he reassures you, something genuine in his voice that instills a confidence in his words. 

-------------------------------

“You could stay, y’know?” you hear the voice of the youngest Kimura sibling say, causing you to turn away from the photo board that hangs in the Kimura family living room. 

“What do you mean?” you ask her. 

“Come home,” Lina says this time, much more insistent, much more desperate. “You and Joe-.”

“Lina,” you warn her, as your face falls, because you’re not sure you can let her finish that sentence. 

You feel for her, really, and you can only imagine that it’s easier for her to focus on resenting your new boyfriend than it is to feel the pain of this loss. 

Lina sighs, shaking her head, her jaw clenched, “So it’s serious then? You and… the pastry chef?”

You wait a beat before answering,

“Yeah. It is.”

She shakes her head again, this time with an eye roll as she purses her lips disapprovingly. It’s as if she’s turning a decision over in her head, opening her mouth to say something, before closing it, going back to the drawing board. 

“But he’s an Arsenal fan,” she finally scoffs, with a snort, trying her best to add a little humor to what feels like an impossible situation by nitpicking at his favorite football team.

You laugh, adding your own playful eye roll to the mix this time. 

“I never said he had great taste in football teams,” you chuckle back, earning a groan from your former sister-in-law. 

The two of you share a look, one that says, ‘I love you, you dummy,’ and you can see that she wants to say something else. You don’t know what it’ll be about this time, so you wait patiently, giving the youngest Kimura the space to get out whatever it is that’s eating her. 

“I just-. I never understood… why you and Joe… why you couldn’t work it out,” she drags out, a disappointment in her voice as she finds the words she wants to say. 

So she doesn’t want to talk about her mom. 

You sigh, accepting that fact, while racking your brain for how to explain the question that consumed you for a year after. 

“Because, Lina…” you trail off, choosing your words intentionally. “It just wasn’t-, because I don’t know if we were supposed to. I-.” You pause once more before continuing with, “Because we just… grew apart. Wanted different things. And we both deserve to go find them, even if it means it’s not with each other.” 

You watch as she takes in your answer, only just beginning to process your explanation, as a man you recognize as Uncle Kevin approaches. 

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies. Lina, will you come help me with something in the kitchen?” he asks. 

“Sure. Yeah,” she nods her head, beginning to turn away from you. 

But Lina pauses; she’s not ready to go just yet. 

“It really is good…” she says with a sure nod of her head. “... to see you. I’m glad you came.”

Lina turns once more, following her uncle into the kitchen, without a look back. You take a deep breath, because it all just feels heavy. You’ve always been close with Astrid, but your relationship with Lina was different. She was much younger when you met Joe. While you and Astrid became close friends, much closer in age, you’d always suspected that Lina had put you and your relationship with her brother on a pedestal, the reality of your assumption becoming glaringly obvious now. 

You can only imagine the divorce was something hard for her to stomach, to understand, especially with her limited life experience. You remind yourself not to take it too personally as you slip outside, making your way back into the backyard where the memorial service was held earlier that day. 

There’s another photo board outside, propped up against an easel, with an entirely different collection of photos than the one inside. You smile to yourself as your eyes savor the familial images: younger versions of the Kimura children with their mother at the beach, baby Lina with a mess of noodles all over her high chair, covered in sauce, a photo of Joe’s graduation…. You reach out to touch one of the photos – a photo of you, Aiko, and Joe together, the day of your wedding. 

You can feel the lump in your throat growing, your eyes welling with tears as you’re suddenly overcome with a deep feeling of sadness. A few tears run down your face, and you sniffle, wiping them away quickly, as soon as you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. 

“I told Lina to be nice,” Astrid grumbles, as she approaches you and the photo board. 

With a quick raise of your eyebrows, you turn to Astrid before telling her: “Lina thinks I should stay.”

“Lina is barely twenty five and I don’t quite think her brain has fully formed yet,” Astrid quips dryly, and you know she’s not entirely wrong. 

“I can only imagine this is… all pretty confusing for her,” you say, suddenly feeling a little guilty for being here in the first place. 

“She’s young. She’ll get over it,” Astrid shrugs, brushing off your concern. 

To a stranger, her response would seem cold, callous, unemotional, but you know that Astrid has had to play the role of the eldest daughter her entire life. 

She’s had to be strong for everyone her entire life. 

“She always was a hopeless romantic,” you observe, turning your attention back to the family photos. “Lina.”

Astrid nods slowly, “I think she looked up to you and Joe. Looked to the two of you and saw what love could look like.”

“Just because it ended doesn’t mean we don’t still love each other,” you offer. “It’s just… different now. We’re not… in love, but we both still care for each other. Shouldn’t that be worth something too?”

“I think she’ll understand when she’s older,” Astrid replies in an attempt to offer you some kind of comfort. 

“How’re you doing?” you ask her, the words feeling silly as soon as they leave your mouth. 

“I’m… just going to be happy when this is all over,” Astrid admits, the fatigue in her voice more evident than ever. “Dunno if I’ve even had time to be sad. Been too busy doing… all of this. Think maybe I’ll crash the minute it’s over which… is bloody scary and also… guess, it’s something I’ve been waiting for too.”

You nod in concurrence, “Well, if you do, you know you have me. Right now I’m a phone call, a hop, skip, and a week away. You know, till we go home.”

She nods, stealing a glance your way, a small smirk on her lips in response to your usage of the word, ‘we.’ 

“And then of course,” you continue, slyly, hoping to plant the idea in her head now. “You can always eat, pray, love in Copenhagen… you know… if the mood strikes you. I feel like that would be, you know, healing.”

She snorts with laughter, “Yeah, I’ve got to get out there again anyways.”

There’s a short pause between the two of you, and Astrid’s still stuck on what you said earlier. 

The ‘we’ of it all, really. 

“So Luca’s really something. Showin’ up to your new girlfriend’s ex-husband’s mum’s funeral? That takes guts,” she says, prodding you for more information on Luca. 

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t think the bloke could be even more handsome in person and yet….”

You chuckle in response.

“Yeah he’s… he’s pretty perfect,” you exhale, sitting into the feeling. 

“It’s exhausting sometimes… trying to keep up,” you joke. “Only, then he tells me that I don’t have to be perfect and I can just be myself which… is even more annoying because it��s more proof that he is.”

“Well, I like him,” Astrid adds smugly, crossing her arms across her chest. 

“Yeah?” you ask, a stark contrast between her and Lina’s reactions. 

“Yeah,” she nods, enthusiastically. Her face softens as she says what comes next. “You look well-loved. That’s why I like him.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, hesitantly. 

“You look like you’ve found your heart again,” Astrid answers. 

And as you search her face for a reaction, for truth to her statement, you can see it in her eyes that she means it. 

-------------------------------

After spending a little more time with Astrid in the backyard, you decide it may be time to find Joe. You’re not sure what you’re expecting, but you think that you should prepare for almost anything. It doesn’t take long to find him inside, so you wait for the right moment, watching him accept condolences from a couple you recognize as neighbors, as they’re on their way. Your heart pounds in your chest, your nerves skyrocketing because it’s all just so… weird… as you approach. 

“Joe,” you call out to him, your voice grabbing his attention. 

He turns to you, a small smile on his face as he sees that it’s really you standing behind him. 

“Is now a good time to say hello?” you ask, trying your best to be respectful. 

“Yeah, ‘course. I-,” he begins, before pausing, looking around the room. “You want to get out of here?”

“Wh-?” you start. 

“Fancy a pint? I just don’t know if I can do this whole perfect son act for much longer,” he scoffs, a playful and mischievous tone in his voice. 

“Uh… yeah,” you agree, unable to hide the surprise in your voice. “Yeah, fuck. I could use a drink.”

You shouldn’t be surprised, really, as you follow Joe out of the house. Your brain is flooded with memories of sneaking out of the theater to go get french fries, of parties to head to another party, out of his childhood home when you were staying with Aiko during your first holiday with the Kimuras. 

There’s a pub down the street that you walk to, feeling naughty for leaving without saying goodbye, and relieved that you’re getting to escape from the bleak, depressing awkwardness that is any funeral. You remember this pub – one you and Joe used to frequent because it was only a few blocks away – when you’d moved to London. It’s a short walk and the two of you can’t get there fast enough, eager to flee the scene of grieving relatives and humorously sad music. 

You and Joe find two seats at the bar, sitting side by side as you clink the glasses of your ice cold pints. 

“Cheers,” you say. 

“Cheers,” he parrots, the both of you taking your first sips. 

“Fucking hell, I had to get out of there,” Joe exhales a huge sigh of relief. “Been at it all day. Makin’ other people feel better about my own mum’s death. I don’t know how anyone does this.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda fucked, huh?” you reply with a sigh. 

“Funerals are weird. I’ll tell you that, mate,” he agrees, lifting his glass to his lips once more. 

“This is…” you start, nervous yet bold in speaking truth to the moment. “... also weird, don’t you think?”

You watch as he thinks it over, a small smirk on his face as he agrees, “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

A beat. 

And then another. 

And you’re lifting your glass once more to your lips to take another sip of the amber liquid that brings you comfort in the moment. 

“Is it alright? That I came? That we… came?” you ask, a little more seriously now. 

Joe turns his head to you, and you can see that your consideration means a lot to him. He nods slowly as he answers:

“Yeah. I meant what I said before – that she would’ve wanted you here.” 

He pauses once more, taking another drink from his beer glass. 

“As for Luca. Well, it was bound to happen at some point or another.” You nod, your eyes fixed to the resin-sealed wooden bar top as you listen to him. “I think we both knew that this day would come… Can’t say it’s a walk in the park but… dunno if most things are supposed to be anyways.”

“Yeah I uh… I certainly feel like bambi learning how to walk for the first time on the wobbliest of legs,” you offer up, reassuring Joe that you have no idea how to navigate this either. 

“Yeah,” he sighs. 

“But,” you begin again. “We outgrew each other, yeah. Doesn’t mean I stopped caring about you. About any of you.”

Joe nods slowly, because he knows you’re right. He admires you for how fearlessly you’re charging into this conversation, and wonders if it’s the new boyfriend – Luca – whose helped get you to this point. 

He can’t tell whether he wants to thank the bloke or if he’s envious, deciding that it’s probably a little bit of both. 

“Doesn’t mean we can’t have a different kind of relationship,” you add, avoiding the cringe factor of using the word friendship, even though it’s what you mean. 

Joe waits a beat, because he really would like to be friends, because he really does still care about you too. 

“So how’s life treatin’ you otherwise?” he asks, as an olive branch – a yes to letting your relationship transform into something else. 

You spend the afternoon catching up, ordering baskets on baskets of chips, and sharing what he’s missed over the past few years: that you have a restaurant now, that you’ve come around to cold brew, even though you swore you’d always hate it, all about the Mikkelson twins and how much he’d probably hate their wild streaks. In return, Joe tells you all about his new teaching job at a uni, that he’s recreationally been playing with the symphony as of late, and that he’s just taken a little break from the dating scene. It feels strange and normal all at once. While Joe feels familiar, like getting to spend time with an old piece of yourself, this rhythm and new kind of relationship that seems to be unfolding before you feels foreign, the dichotomy stretching you to opposite ends of its spectrum. It’s not something you ever saw for yourself – becoming friends with your ex-husband – but in the moment, as the pathway presents itself to you, you’re not sure you mind. 

“I miss her. So, so much,” Joe finally admits, as the conversation returns to the matriarch you both love with your whole hearts. 

“I know. I do too,” you say, reaching for his hand this time. 

He looks at you, a softness in your eyes in response to the gesture, and with a small smile, you pull your hand away. 

“I want to make a dish… for her at the restaurant. To honor her. And everything she taught me,” you finally say, almost as if it’s a declaration. 

You search Joe’s face for a reaction, his expression beginning to break as his eyes begin to water. 

“I think ehm,” he begins, his voice breaking. “I think she’d really, really like that.” 

He clears his throat, because he’s not sure he wants to cry right now. 

“You better send pictures,” he demands jokingly. “And you’ve got to make it for us, the next time you’re in town.” Joe pauses once more, as if he wants to make it crystal clear what he really means when he adds:

“You and Luca.”

Your heart swells and breaks all at once, in response to Joe’s blessing, because it means so much and so many things. 

“Yeah. I-. We will. I promise,” you agree, your voice caught in your throat. 

Joe nods once more, a finite kind of motion as he straightens up in his chair. 

“C’mon. Think we should head back.”

And as you walk with Joe, it’s as if you both take your time, no longer in a hurry to get back to the Kimura family home as quickly as possible. There’s a weight with each step that contributes to the slower pace, and it’s hard to ignore the deep sadness that’s taken root inside of you. On one hand, it’s been a long, heavy day of grieving the loss of the Kimura matriarch – a woman who taught you how to cook, who loved you as her own, who poured every fiber of her being into building a family that knew they were loved. On the other hand, as you stand across from Joe on the street he grew up on, giving each other one more goodbye hug that lasts longer than the previous, this moment feels monumental. 

Somehow, you feel the shift, the changes between you and Joe, even deeper than the day you signed your divorce papers. You’ve moved on and so has he in his own way, and you know that as you turn to go, you’re only just beginning a new chapter with him. 

And with Luca, because it feels even more real now, more than ever.

The magnitude of it all hits you, as you straddle this ending and your new beginning. 

 It all feels very grown-up – very adult – and you can feel the pieces of you that you’ll leave behind as you do ‘said growing up,’ fall by the wayside.

“Goodbye, Joe,” you say, one last time as you try your best not to let your voice shake. 

“Take care, darling,” he says back, releasing you. 

And when you turn to go, all you can do is cry, grieving these endings, new beginnings, and the parts of you that you must leave behind.