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carbonfiction · 6 months ago

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Dark Desires

older, best friends dad!Logan x reader

summary: a week ago you found yourself drunk texting your best friends dad; something that should've been a mistake, but you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would know everything you'd kept from him all those years. You'd been thinking about it for longer than you'd care to admit; adding to the fantasy. so what happens when logan finally indulges you..

warnings: Swearing, dirty talk, F!Receiving oral, PIV smut, prone bone and missionary, Somnophilla (technically??), daddy kink, roleplay?? pussy sniffing?? Kind of voyeurism? But the person is very much asleep. Also tagging this for dubcon but it’s more pre established consent/free use and slight CNC vibes depending on how you view it? Tagged this the best i believe i can but ultimately you are responsible for your media consumption.

A/N: i don't know where this came from, other than i had a glass of wine and a naughty thought. i tried real hard on this and its a little darker than i usually write- not to mention longer- but i hope yall enjoy a filth filled piece of my intoxicated brain anyway. Et voilà.

Masterlist Words: little over 4k (oop- longest thing ive ever written.. i got carried away..)

Your heart is hammering away inside of your chest so insistently that it feels like your ribs are bruised and your breasts are trying to punch their way out of your dress.

You're still wearing the stupid thing and Laura is drinking another mimosa. Part of you is grateful for that. Yet while you want her drunk and snoring tonight, part of you can't help trying to stop her.

You make eye contact, give her the look. Tell her to slow down because you two have been down this road before. She gets wild, has fun for half an hour, and then spends the rest of the night dizzy in a bathroom asking deep philosophical questions like why do my eyes hurt? And why do guys suck? And do i still have puke in my hair?

But if she's drunk tonight, just enough to sleep like the dead, then what?

You set your own drink aside to check your phone for what feels like the hundredth time this hour and lift a shaky thumb to your texts.

You've read the thread again and again and again, and still you don't quite believe it. The party swirls around you. A hurricane of sound and the smell of cocktails is sour in your nose. You feel the heat of your friends, your fellow graduates. one day lawyers, doctors, professors, professionals in their field; and yet here you are reading over the texts again.

You feel like a little girl and yet simultaneously the most grown of women because you have a secret, a dirty little secret.

You were nearly as drunk as Laura is now when you sent the first text a week ago. You were celebrating the end of finals and you were curled up in bed after a long night out.

One of your other friends had flirted with the bartender. You'd told the girl to stop and Laura had reached from her stool and pinched your leg. Asking if you'd ever needed something so badly that you actually made a bad decision.

Everyone had laughed, all except you.

You know she was teasing and complimenting in the same breath. You're a good girl and everybody knows it. Reliable, honest and never involved with the wrong kind of guys.. Always a reason to why you were too busy to bother. You were studying, too busy hanging out with Laura. Too busy prepping for school, internships and the next two decades of your life.

You're no angel, although of course, no one was. You've had your share of regrettable hookups and disappointing boyfriends, but nothing that set your world alight. Nothing worth risking anything for.

But maybe what Laura had said thread under your skin more than you'd like to admit. Maybe you were just drunk enough to ignore the obvious risk.. Or was it that you'd been thinking about him for an indecently long amount of time?

So with finals over, diploma practically in hand. There was nothing preventing years of pent up lust from sending a jolt down between your legs, setting a crackling fire in your heart and making you sweat. Dripping down your neck, stomach, that spot on your lower back, they all tingled as you crouched on the corner of your bed and wrote a single text.

You: I need something.

You sent it. Had forced yourself to before you chickened out and immediately regretted it. You thought you'd worded it in such a way that you could play it off, pretend it didn't happen.

But you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would read those three words and know everything you'd kept from him all those years. Every dirty thought, every horny fantasy, everything.

It was all right there in the text. 2am on a Thursday night and truly it could only mean one thing. You put the phone down, tried to make yourself go to sleep.

Logan was an older man with a life. A job, house and a child- your best friend- and you were sure he wouldn't even see the stupid thing until the morning when you could say you meant to message Laura. Not him, not her father. But then you picked up the phone again, half panicked and ready to change your mind, when you'd saw those little dots.

That meant he was writing something back, at 2am on a Thursday night, either in bed or his limo.

Logan: You need to go to sleep

Of course.. Responsible. That was the responsible thing to do. And you would do just that. But first you'd just write a quick text to apologize. Say it was the wrong number and sleep this off; pretend it didn't happen for the rest of your lives.

But.. what if, for once in your life, it could be easy? What if Logan did know everything? What if.. There was something else? Because that was how this all started, hadn't it?

You'd always felt something more, saw something different in his worn eyes, his gruff demeanor. Heard something he was saying when he really wasn't saying anything at all.

Or.. Was it all in your head? Was this only ever a one way infatuation? A young woman's crush, a dark fantasy that only grew darker with each new kink you discovered in yourself? Losing all confidence, you texted back.

You: sorry. Wrong number.

And that was that- or it should've been that- If it was only ever a one way street. You put the phone down, tried desperately to keep your eyes closed, but the moment you heard the phone buzz again you peek.

Logan: Is that true sweetheart?

Oh no, no. it wasn't true at all. You knew he knew exactly who'd texted and why; what you wanted him to do. You'd been thinking about it for years. Adding to the fantasy. Soaking your sheets in the middle of the night when you couldn't sleep, all that brought a temporary relief. If only for a little while; So, you text back.

You: No

Just that. A simple No.

Logan: You telling a lie?

You: Not exactly

Logan: So you wanted my attention then?

You: Wanted? No Logan.. Need.

And yes, you know need is a very strong word.

Logan: You feel very strongly about that huh? Strong feelings can be dangerous sweetheart.

You: what if i want something dangerous.

You answered back with the most honest thing you could say. And then there was a pause, a very long pause, in which you could see no dots, and even started to wonder if he'd abandoned you. Left you on read.

A thousand images erupted in your mind, different versions of him sitting and staring at your number- your words. Those cheap reading glasses perched on his nose as he wondered if this was some kind of game.

But if it was a game.. Logan was ready to play and after a few minutes your phone dings again.

Logan: you're being a real bad girl tonight, aren't you?

And then it wasn't your best friend's father you were texting. Well, it very much was- that was the crux of it, wasn't it? But now it was also the man. The man on the other side of the phone who was paying close attention.

You: Yes, daddy. very, very bad.

Now, In the darkness of his daughter's room, You imagine colors swirling on her ceiling. Your heart restless like a caged animal and there is a knot in your stomach twisting tighter and tighter by the second.

You don't know how long you've been lying here. 5 minutes or 5 hours. But you know you can't possibly wait another moment... But then you do, because you have to.

You haven't heard from Logan all day and that makes you afraid. Really genuinely afraid that He's forgotten or changed his mind.

Because, well, it's just you and Laura in here, isn't it? You're lying on the floor, a lumpy pillow under your head, and a spare, slightly musty blanket folded under your breasts.

Laura is snoring away in her bed, her limbs tangled with a stuffed animal almost the size of her- one you'd won her from a carnival. It was like old times, she slurred drunkenly. The three of you huddled together in her bed, giggling and watching some crappy reality show.

She'd tried to get you to join her and the animal in the bed, but you'd said no. Insisted that it was too hot tonight. That you'd rather be able to spread out on the floor. Fortunately, by the time you made it up to Laura's room, she was too far gone to argue.

Unfortunately, now though, there's a very drunk girl in her bed beside you, a possible witness to your depravity. And so you lie there, staring at the ceiling and forcing yourself not to text. Not to call. To just ignore the nagging doubt in your gut.

And yet again, you still find yourself opening the text thread. Reading through the things you told him, the things he'd told you. A formed plan and line after line of you promising things. All of the 'Yes, daddy I want this' the 'Please do that to me' The repetitive 'ill be a good girl, Promise' And then, at the very bottom, a safe word. It was when you'd agreed on the safe word that you knew this was for real. Not a fiction in a book or a fantasy playing out in a movie.

The word. Kitty. An inside joke from years ago. The word proof that all the little confidences and conversations held an attraction you were both willing to hide for the sake of decency

But.. you don't want to be decent anymore. You'd confided your fantasy, one that you had dreamt so many nights. Wished for it in the hot, comfortable haven of Laura's bed every time you'd stayed over. The thought of her older, attractively gruff father coming to you in the night and making you submit to his secret lust.

Of him pulling your panties to the side while Laura slept untroubled. Logan ravishing you while you whispered and mewled 'please, daddy, make me your filthy slut'

You've always been his filthy slut, haven't you? Deep In your heart. The thought is turning the wet spot between your legs into a soggen menace. You've been horny before, You've been needy before, but never like this- because you've never tried something like this.

Never wanted something badly enough to ask for it; or even beg for it. This was a dream, a dirty desire, a secret yearning never to be true.

Then you'd drunk texted. You told him and he'd responded, not with shock or disgust, but enthusiasm, cautious enthusiasm. But it was still only text messages. You haven't spoken to him yet, not properly at least. Even when you saw him walk in at the party, or in the limo on the way back to Laura's. You couldn't bring yourself to say a word. Your mouth was so dry, cheeks so hot. Laura had laughed and said you were flushed in the backseat- a lightweight to end all lightweights- when in fact you haven't had a drop to drink tonight.

You're going to throw your phone at the wall, you swear it. But No, that would probably wake her up. Instead, you conclude that you're going to find your pants, and you're going to leave this house and never come back. You love Laura but you can't bear it, can't believe you trusted him with this. You can't lie here and torment yourself about your decisions a minute longer about your need.

Then, your heart leaps into your throat. phone dropping onto your chest with a soft thud. Quickly you brush it off and turn onto your stomach. Your head hitting the pillow, eyes squeezed shut and pulse racing like you've run a marathon.

Through your closed eyelids, you see the glow of the hall light from the open door, only for it to vanish moments later. Either the door has closed or the light's been turned off, but you're not sure which because blood is racing so loudly in your ears. Breath escaping in overwhelming gasps.

Do you hear calculated heavy footsteps or is that your imagination? You struggle to listen for Laura. Is she awake or still sleeping? The tension so tight in your chest that you begin to feel dizzy, almost nauseous. Then comes the creak of the floor at the foot of your makeshift bed, the unmistakable presence of another person in the room, their eyes on you.

You can't stop your body from trembling slightly as the sheet is softly yanked away. Adrenaline courses through your veins, making your body buzz with anticipation.

Your legs are bare the cool air of Laura's bedroom. You're laying on your stomach. Face pushed into the pillow, eyes clenched shut as if you're locked into a deep, drunken sleep- like you should be.

Your legs are splayed out, dark lacey panties riding up the crevice of your ass. One of your ass cheek's indecently exposed... then a rough touch caresses over the swell of that exposed cheek, two big exploring hands, gliding over you.

You hear the grunt of a man, and you know it can only be Logan. He's the only other person home.

Your heart is beating so hard you're afraid you're going to pass out. Laura is on the bed, sleeping mere feet away, and her father is groping you in your supposed sleep.

So the question becomes: are you dreaming now? or are you praying this is as far as he'll go?

when Logan pull's the fabric of your panties to the side, you know he's willing to go much further. He's quiet in the darkness around you, but he's big and the house is old; the floor creaking and groaning as he readjust's his heavy weight.

Your panties are roughly hiked over one cheek of your ass, the sound of ripping lace filling your ears. Logan's hot breath roll's over your ass and the tremble in your limbs becomes a full shiver.

You can feel his scruffy face so close to your body, Feel his nose against the crevice of your ass as he roves lower. Dipping further until his mouth- his nose - is pressed into the folds of your bared cunt.

You hear how he inhales deeply, toes curling in response. Your fingers lay over Laura's spare pillow, the case tight in your grip. He's smelling you, nuzzling against your dampening skin not once, but many times. Lewdly breathing in your scent like a dog that's found something it likes.

His calloused hands spread you open so he can breathe deeper still and when hes as deep into your cunt as his face will allow, his wet tongue slides out to lick at you. You cannot stifle your moan at the feeling, immediately biting your lip to keep from growing any louder.

But with this the culmination of so many fevered late night fantasies, you dont know if you are dreaming.

His wide tongue laps at your swollen clit, swiping open the seam of your pussy and to the point just shy of your tighter hole. You hear logan growl into your wet slit like a monster unleashed from beneath the bed. Feeling how how his licks grow stronger, longer and twice as ravenous as he steadily turn your pussy into a drooling, dripping mess.

He laps at you in the quiet darkness of Laura's room, calculated and experienced as you fight to not to cry out. The pressure of an impending orgasm building so tight in your body that it feels time you woke up.

And so you take a deep breath, a rough gasped sound falling out too. Your fingers claw at the pillow as you flex your lower half.

"Hmm?"You grumble, pretending to bat away the cobwebs of sleep. "Wha-whats happening, What are you doing?" You ask, voice thick with mock confusion.

Within moments you feel Logan's tongue retreat from your pussy, a weight so much heavier than your own crawl over your half naked body. You feel him pressed tight against you, still clothed if the scratchy fabric tells you anything, but an unmistakable bulge is hidden inside. Hard and large against your ass you feel Logan's arm rub against your shoulder. A big hand sliding over your mouth.

"Quiet, sweetheart" he growls in your ear. "Daddy's had enough of your teasing"

Another large hand slides beneath your sleep shirt to cup your tender tits, The nipples diamond hard against Logan's palm. You cant help but moan into his hand as you plead.

"Please. Didn't mean to tease" its a wine, petulant in tone.

"Course you didnt.. Shame S' Too late now" he whispers against your ear, teeth biting into your earlobe. The hand on your breast trails down. Right the way down to his slacks.

"B-but Laura" You warn him in a whispered panic, hearing the sound of a zipper sliding down. you struggle teasingly, hips bucking back against him. Its not enough to cause a scene or enough to wake your sleeping friend- his sleeping daughter- but just enough to make him pin your body down. Enough for you to feel a fraction of his real strength.

Logan's muscles bulge from the effort of caging you against the floor and spreading your legs.

"Nuh uh, Stay still. Stay right where ive got you" he murmurs darkly in your ear, voice a low rumble. the words fire through you like liquid lightning as you bite into his palm, not to fight but to restrain a high pitched moan that you fear could wake the neighbors- not just Laura.

"nothing you can do now sweetheart, just gotta take it" Logan says and you hear the mocking smile in the words, feel the throb of his thick cock as it emerges from the confines of his pants. "Kept telling me you were a good girl, so show me"

With your stomach flat against the ground, legs spread wide beneath him, you can do nothing but tremble as his cock slips between your legs. The cock belonging to your best friend's father sliding deliciously across that little bundle of nerves that sparks a whimper of pleasure.

Your eyes roll back as Logans hips buck, cock brushing your clit again, running up and down your slit torturously slow. "fuuuck, you feel that? How hard you've got my cock?"

You're kicking your legs now, moving your hips. It could be viewed as a struggle but its not, not really, you're just so desperately excited you can't keep still.

"Don't need to fight me baby. Just let daddy in hm? let it happen sweetheart."

And then he's pushing inside your body in one heavy thrust; slow and impossibly deep. The weight of him inside your cunt making you mewl against his palm. All the years of secret yearning, wet fantasies and subtle flirtations have all led to this moment.

It doesn't take many thrusts before your tongue is rolling out of your mouth, licking wetly against his palm like a grateful dog- a bitch in heat. You try to use it to muffle the moan that follows, a pitiful sound mixed with pleasure, like you're ashamed to be in the situation.

Used and humiliated around logans cock.

Its push followed by retreat, a half thrust and then withdrawal over and over. "So fucking tight" Logan growls as you wiggle your ass, not certain if your trying to squirm further in to his grip or out.

He's stretching your walls apart, the burn of his size delicious with each heavy he offers. Each bringing a pulsing throb on your clit. "Yeaaaa, that's it, take it like a good girl.." he groans. "S' what you wanted isn't it."

Logans right, this is exactly what you wanted and more. His body trembles atop yours from the exertion, balls squeezed against your ass, his hand on and off clenching around your breast. His thrusts picking up in pace as you struggle and squirm to keep quiet even under his palm

"L-logan" you whimper as he pushes particularly deep, pussy squelching lewdly from your arousal, his hand barley muffling the word. He knows your close before you do, can feel your cunt clenching desperately.

"Getting fucked so good your gonna cum sweetheart?" he rasps in your ear, panting into it. "C'mon, tell daddy how good his cock feels."

"S-so good.. F-fuck yes daddy, please"

You whine and It is a struggle to pry his strong hand off your mouth to get the words out.

"Go on sweetheart. Cum, coat my fuckin cock. Show me this cute little pussy is mine"

and then his big hand clamps back over your lips as he begins to fuck you into the floor. Your orgasm crashes over you in burning waves. Every stroke becoming an ecstatic agony, overstimulation starting to buzz over your bones. Its a constant struggle to hold your moans and neither of you can move properly for the risk of waking Laura .

But Logans hips remain unrelenting, Fucking you prone on your friends floor. His balls swinging, swatting unbearably at your clit with every entry. The heat of him and being trapped against the floor is almost unbearable, but so is having to keep your whimpers quiet. sweat beads hot on your brow

you can hear his own desperate attempts at staying quiet. Broken only by muffled groans, grunts of exertion, and primal chesty growls as your cunt clenches wetly around him.

Yet the discomfort of overstimulation is no match for the absolute bliss of your submission. Your toes curling so hard you're on the verge of a cramp.

The friction between your clit, Logan's cock and the floor builds to an intolerable pressure. Something must give way. The temptation to lose all control and scream his name too great. Now that possibility of you blacking out is too dangerous to ignore. So you say it the word.

"Kitty!"

Not because you want to, but because in this moment you have to. Almost as soon as the word leaves your lips and sinks into the pillow, wet from saliva and tears, you feel his body shudder. muscles seizing while a heavy groan sounding out into the skin of your neck.

"you okay?" he pants softly worry creasing his brow. "Was it too much?"

Your wordless and it worries him. Making him pull back, cock slipping free with a hushed hiss as he helps you shift onto your back, so he can look at you properly.

Your hands rise, fingers caressing his scruffy cheeks. "M'okay" you pant, eyes on him. "wasn't too much. Promise."

No, in fact, It was just right- before it all overwhelmed you that is. Now? now you just want to hold him, make love to him. Hold onto something- someone that isn't really yours. Eye to eye, your mouth slides back over his, legs spread back open, ready to welcome his length back inside. Without a word you buck your hips down, beckoning him to fuck you again.

Things are much quieter this time. Pace slowed to deep grinds rather than shallow thrusts, pleasure once again coiling in your gut as you lean up to watch his cock disappear inside.

"Feel so good sweetheart, my good girl" he coos, lips against yours as his hand slips back to cup your breast. "My good girl with a fuckin perfect body"

You keep your eyes on logan, blissful smile across your face, and for this moment he's not your best friends father. Not with the way he's gazing down at you with a mixture of lust and long held affection. "always wanted you" he whispers, hand moving back from your breast to cup your cheek. "But I would have kept that secret forever.."

You squeeze him to your chest, heart stuttering at the admission as you lock your arms behind his neck, legs tight around logans waist. You whimper back his name, a plea on your tongue.

"Want you to cum logan.. Please, need to feel it"

You want it more than anything, to feel his cum pushed inside you; for it to drip out later as a downright filthy reminder. You kiss his neck, then cheek, and finally his lips. You want Logan to claim you right here on the floor, right under her nose and you know it makes you a bad friend. Your eyes roll back, hands clawing down his chest as you feel yourself giving up all thought to the rush that flows down the center of your body. The one that begins and ends in the wet, sticky place between your legs, Where the sensitive bud of your clit pulses like a dying star.

it's then he growls much too loud, and you respond back in a whimper, lips pressing tight as you cum together in panted kisses. Him pumping hot heady ropes of cum inside your cunt without reservation or regret as you clench in a vice grip around him.

Tomorrow you will be sore, you know it for a fact. But Tonight.. Tonight You can revel in a fantasy made flesh, your flesh and Logans wrapped around each tight. You drag weak fingers down through his damp hair, then his back, feeling the way his shirt is soaked through with sweat.

Logans panting has subsided by now, breaths no longer crackling besides your ear. He plants mouthy kisses at the juncture of your neck, ever so gently, like a sated wolf nuzzling at the muzzle of his mate. You giggle quietly as those kisses grow fiercer, teeth nipping at your neck.

"my good, great, naughty girl" he murmurs against your skin, voice soft. "you feeling okay sweetheart? sure it wasn't too much?"

You nod and he can feel the enthusiasm seep from the move as you grasp his face again. "Mhm, better than okay. Was perfect" you hum sleeplily, content in his hold, in the scent of him. Your eyes flutter, lashes tickling his cheeks as you kiss him long and deep, until the rub of his beard hurts your face and sleep begins to take you under.

You both know tonight was the culmination of so many fevered dreams. The breaking point of lust and its power that can't be fully expressed in words. So he holds you close- just as you do him in your rest- for a little while longer, until light begins to filter soft through the curtains and the reality of what you'd both done really begins to set in.

thats it!! lemme know what you thought anddddd yea! asks are always open to shoot the shit, drabbles and more! <333

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darkmatilda · 2 months ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢'𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it's time to return the second favor. and for that reason, spencer finds himself invited by you...on a date?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist!female reader, fake date at the bar, reader's ex makes an appearance, kinda inspired by blank space taylor swift

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.5 k

𝐚/𝐧: anon's request

[unknown number] wake up pretty boy

[unknown number] time to pay your debt

Spencer, sitting on his bed with a book resting on his lap, stared at the message for a moment, his brows slightly furrowed. Evening, the warm glow of his lamp making it easy to read. He had the next day off, no real plans, just a quiet night ahead. The sudden chime of his phone had caught him off guard.

For a split second, he was surprised—but he didn’t have to think too hard to guess who the sender was.

He typed out how did you get my number, then deleted it before hitting send. Something else was far more interesting. And a little concerning. That second message. Pay your debt. She remembered about that now, at this hour?

Before he could ask, another text came in.

[unknown number] taking you on a date

[unknown number] dress nice

For a moment, deeply confused, he just stared at his phone, already sensing somewhere deep inside that this was going to be a really weird night.

[spencer] What do you mean by ‘date’?

A minute or two passed. He didn’t put his phone down. Didn’t even look away from the screen.

[unknown number] the one who asks questions loses his way

His fingers moved automatically.

[spencer] That’s not how the saying goes

✓ Seen 10:12 pm

Reid sighed. He had absolutely no plans to go out that evening, and he wasn’t thrilled about the fact that he hadn’t been given any details about this so-called date. Unless she was joking? There was something off about this—some kind of trick, a twist he hadn’t figured out yet.

The only thing stopping him from ignoring her messages—something he very much wanted to do—was the simple fact that he did owe her. Technically, twice. Though he had managed to repay one of those debts in an easy way, requiring almost no effort on his part.

He had a feeling this second one wouldn’t be nearly as simple.

And now he found himself wondering what exactly she meant by dress nicely.

"Wait, one more time. We’re going there as her… what?"

"Mental support," she said, moving forward with that usual quick stride of hers, the sharp tapping of her heels almost aggressive. Whether unconsciously or fully aware but not caring, she got a few steps ahead of him, speaking without turning back. Her voice hung in the night, street air.

Spencer hated when she did that. It made him feel like a dog on a leash. He sped up to match her pace.

"Well, I heard you," he scoffed. "Doesn’t mean I get what you mean. And maybe you should clue me in if I’m supposed to be part of…whatever this is”

She stopped with a sigh so heavy it was as if giving him any details about something he was supposed to be part of was beyond her patience and strength. Hands tucked into the pockets of his blazer, he gave her a questioning look as she finally turned to face him.

His gaze dropped—quick, casual. Or at least, that’s how he thought it looked. Even at night, under the less-than-ideal glow of the streetlights, he could register how her outfit hugged her figure, emphasizing every curve.

At work, she dressed more formally. With her looks, that face, and the unshakable confidence she carried, she could probably make a burlap sack look like a designer gown. But Spencer had noticed something about the way she dressed for nights like this. Or rather, the way she became something else entirely. Like she belonged to the night, completely in her element.

Quick, casual glance—yeah, right.

To make the situation even more embarrassing, she snapped her fingers in front of his face, demanding his attention.

"Alright, listen up," she started, shifting her weight onto one hip. "I’m explaining this one last time. My friend, Liv—you might know her from my team…"

"Olivia, you mean," He said her full name in confirmation, recognizing the woman he had indeed seen before.

"Do you really have to correct me on how I call my own friends? Anyway, fine. Olivia has a date tonight with some guy she met online. The thing is, Olivia is a hopeless romantic who’s waiting for the love of her life to magically show up at her door, but she’s also buried in work and can’t even remember the last time she went on a date. Plus, she’s a little worried about ending up with some psycho. You know what I mean."

"All too well," he nodded, recalling all the missing persons cases that had started exactly like this—an online match gone wrong.

“Exactly. So Olivia asked me to come along. You know, for physical backup if anything goes sideways. And mental backup. Just to make her feel safer."

Well, he didn’t want to praise her out loud, but it was…nice of her. Okay, nice wasn’t the perfect word—honestly, the fact that she even had to do something like this was a little bitter at its core—but it didn’t change the fact that she was being a good friend.

He watched her for a moment, not even realizing he had gone quiet. He realized he’d never actually seen her interact with her people, her team, but he had somehow assumed their dynamic was more… detached. Not that she genuinely considered them her friends and actually cared.

"Finally caught up, genius?" she asked, a hint of teasing in her voice.

Spencer snapped out of it. Okay, so maybe she cared about her friends—but she was still seriously unbearable.

"I get it. Except for one thing," he replied, matching her slightly rude tone, one that made him sound almost offended. She raised a brow, nodded as if giving him permission to continue, and started walking again—this time at a slower pace.

Actually, they were moving at almost the same rhythm now, nearly side by side.

"Why do you need me for this?"

Their eyes met, but this time, she didn’t look like she was about to mock him. In fact, the corners of her lips lifted slightly, as if she thought that was a very good question.

"Because tonight, pretty boy, I plan to stay completely on the sidelines," she explained. "Not interfering with my friend or her date in any way. Being completely invisible."

"Invisible?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows.

It wasn’t even just about what she was wearing. Drawing attention was simply an unavoidable part of her presence. She nodded in confirmation.

"Exactly. But I figured that to keep away all the desperate guys trying to get my number, all I need to do is bring one with me," she looked like she was trying not to laugh. "You’re gonna be my scarecrow."

Spencer's mouth fell slightly open, completely at a loss for words.

"You…you are just… just…"

"Amazing, smart, beautiful, wonderful…"

"Shameless. That’s the word"

For a moment, she didn’t respond, her expression filled with a strange kind of complacency.

"Love when you compliment me," she said in an overly sweet tone.

"That wasn’t—" he started, but then cut himself off, realizing there was probably no point in arguing with her. He sighed.

"You’re welcome."

Despite the late hour, the bar wasn’t overcrowded. Sure, there were plenty of people inside, but most were engaged in quiet conversations over their drinks. Spencer noticed quite a few couples. As if they were one of them, they found a secluded spot in the corner, right next to a small pool table made of dark wood with a striking green surface.

"That’s them," the woman discreetly motioned with her head toward the pair at the bar— a cascade of blonde curls and the man accompanying her. She fixed them with an assessing gaze, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Hm. He looks like his pictures. I’ll take that as the first good sign."

"She shows you pictures of her dates?"

"Every single time. We rate them on a scale from one to ten."

Spencer wasn’t surprised in the slightest. His gaze briefly shifted in their direction, though he made sure not to stare, not wanting to make them look weird. The pair seemed to be talking a little shyly—it was obvious this was their first meeting.

“So,” he started. “Is this what we’re going to do all night? Just stand here?”

“Basically, yeah. I mean, we don’t have to just stand around like a couple of creeps, staring at them. We can enjoy our date. Just because it’s fake doesn’t mean it can’t be fun,” she said, slowly circling the pool table until they were on opposite sides.

She slipped off her outer layer, and Spencer couldn’t help but notice that her outfit underneath did anything but help her stay invisible. Reaching for a pool cue, she nodded at him.

“What are you waiting for?”

“You want to play?”

“No, I want to duel you with the cues,” she scoffed. “I’m a professional, you know.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow slightly as he grabbed a cue of his own.

"Professional?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mhm. World championships and all that. But that was a while ago. Then came the injury, and I had to say goodbye to my career. After that, I had no idea what to do with myself, so I became a chemist," she said, with a casual shrug.

He chuckled at the made-up story, setting the pool balls up into a perfect triangle at the center of the table. Once they were ready, he gestured for her to go ahead.

She refused with an exaggerated, almost overly generous smile. "Oh, no. Amateurs go first."

He held back a roll of his eyes, leaning over the table. The balls scattered across the surface, and from that point on, he'd play with the cue ball. It was her turn now, and Spencer watched her movements closely.

"I didn't know your story before the FBI job was so fascinating," he remarked, trying to throw her off a little.

They hadn't made any bet, but there was a subtle competitiveness in him now.

She shrugged.

"I don't think it's fascinating. More tragic. Lost dreams."

"Right, sorry for my disregard. What kind of injury was it?"

She paused for a moment, focusing on her next shot. One of the balls sank smoothly into a pocket, and a small smile played on her lips.

"Shoulder," she replied casually. "Sometimes it still acts up. I have to go for regular massages."

"Poor thing," he said, his tone teasing.

Her gaze briefly scanned the entire bar, landing once again on her friend. Nothing seemed to bother her, so she returned to the game.

"We're playing just for fun? Don't you think that's a bit boring?"

"Sorry, I don’t want to bet with you again. Paying off debts with you is never easy."

"Come on. You’re having fun with me”

"You think so?"

“No. I know it."

She potted another ball, gaining the upper hand. Spencer puffed his lips, deciding to focus more on the game. They both did, though it didn't stop them from continuously exchanging similar comments, remarks, and jabs. And despite the countless huffs and eye rolls, he had to admit, he was really having fun. With her.

And even more fun when he realized he was close to winning.

With a certain satisfaction, he noticed she was watching his moves with more attention, her eyes slightly narrowed with cool competition. As he leaned over the table again, she moved toward him lightly, almost as if tiptoeing. She passed by almost unnoticed. In fact, he only realized how close she was when her breath softly grazed the inside of his ear as she spoke in the voice of a social commentator.

"Ladies and gentlemen, to the surprise of the entire audience, amateur Spencer Reid has managed to take the lead," her whisper was laced with feigned suspense. Of course, he refrained from moving, making sure not to make a mistake from distraction. "Will he manage to win today's tournament?"

He straightened up with a sigh, which made her step back slightly. He gave her a look full of mock pity, and she responded by slowly blinking her eyes, imitating the gaze of an innocent angel.

"I'm pretty sure this counts as sabotage," he remarked.

She raised both hands in the air, as if defending herself against the accusation.

"Hey, I'm not doing anything," she denied, a subtle spark in her eye. She gave a quick nod toward the table. "Come on, finish it."

Spencer, uncertain and sensing she was up to something, tried to refocus. When he found the perfect angle and was about to hit the white ball, something nudged his elbow, causing it to roll in the completely wrong direction.

He directed a look at her, mouth open in indignation.

"This is... this is cheating, pure cheating..."

"No idea what you're talking about!" she shot back. She pretended to be serious, though in an incredibly clumsy way. Her lips kept trembling, trying to form a smile, and she struggled to suppress it. "I didn't do anything. Your hand must have slipped..."

At the sight of the expression on his face, she couldn't hold back anymore and burst into laughter. It mixed with the sound of his incessantly muttered, mildly irritated comments under his breath, which absolutely didn't reach her conscience. In fact, it seemed to only make her feel more smug. Spencer finally gave in, letting out a sigh.

"I demand a fair rematch."

With her arms crossed over her chest, she raised an eyebrow.

"Go ahead, then," she said, grabbing the cue stick again.

Her friend and her date were still deep in conversation, sitting much closer than before, with small smiles on their faces. They didn't seem like they were in any hurry to end the evening. A few new people had arrived at the bar, making it louder, but Spencer didn't even notice. He was completely focused on this small, occupied space between them where they were slowly giving in to the growing rivalry, even though nothing had been wagered. It was probably just about pride.

His opponent was doing everything in her power to make his game harder. He'd abandoned all pretenses of fairness and stood right beside her whenever she leaned over the pool table. He didn't even intend to nudge her—but when he was close, she assumed he would and became incredibly cautious, often elbowing him in the ribs to make space for herself to focus. Despite all of this, they were laughing. He even forgot for a moment that he had planned to spend the evening entirely differently.

They played a few more rounds, each of them winning the same number of games. He announced the next one, but before starting, he briefly disappeared into the bathroom. Simply because, well, he needed to use it.

As he washed his hands, he could hear the hum of conversations, laughter, and music, all muffled by the door. It felt a bit warm, despite the fact that he'd taken off his jacket a while ago. For some reason, he suddenly became self-conscious about how he looked, though he hadn't thought about it at all before. After all, it wasn’t like he was on a date with some woman he was trying to impress. Still, driven by some inner impulse, he fixed his hair and smoothed the fabric of his shirt with his hands, rolling up the sleeves so they wouldn’t get wet while washing. He hesitated for a moment before lowering them again, surprised to sense someone's gaze on him.

The tall man with black hair, a rather sturdy build, and narrow glasses on his nose didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring at him. Spencer wasn’t sure if he should just walk away, but something made him raise an eyebrow skeptically. He had no idea what was going on.

“Do we know each other?” he asked, genuinely considering the possibility.

He couldn’t recall this man from anywhere, which, given his memory, pretty much ruled out the idea.

“No,” the man replied briefly but confidently, still not breaking eye contact. After a moment, he added, “But I know your friend. I know her well.”

Reid stood still for a moment, embarrassingly slow to realize which friend the man was referring to. It wasn’t until a few seconds later that it struck him—this guy had likely been watching their game for a while and was talking about her. Before Spencer could say anything, the man continued.

“Actually, I used to date her. And listen, I’ve got some advice for you. Just give up on her.”

Spencer blinked, trying to process if he’d misheard.

“Beg your pardon...”

“I’m serious, man. Not because I’m jealous or anything like that,” he quickly clarified, raising both hands as if to declare his sincerity. “It’s just simple, you know, guy solidarity. Don’t waste your time.”

He was struck by a strange feeling that his conversation partner had some mistaken idea about their relationship. Besides, even though the man had clarified that he wasn’t jealous, he sure sounded like a jealous ex. Spencer knew he should just laugh it off and walk away. After all, he wasn’t dating her, didn’t intend to, and whatever the guy had to say about her shouldn’t matter. Yet, his legs refused to simply walk away.

Some curiosity, one he couldn’t shake off, took hold of him.

“What do you mean?” he asked hesitantly.

A slight smirk appeared on the man’s face as he noticed he had Spencer’s attention.

“I get that you might see something in her. She’s pretty, you have to give her that. At first, even...kind of charming in her arrogance. But once you get to know her...it’s a strong word, but you need to know, she’s fucking insane.”

The language seemed to twist strangely in his mouth.

“That doesn’t tell me much,” he replied dryly. “I mean, anyone could mean something different by saying fucking insane.”

The man scoffed with a bit of contempt. Spencer was beginning to feel increasingly uncomfortable with the whole conversation.

“Okay, you’re probably going to deny it and defend her because you like her, I’ve been there, I get it.”

Because I like her? He almost denied it but stopped himself, letting the man continue.

“She’s just insufferable in the long run. She acts like she knows everything, gives orders, always has to have the last damn word. And you know, at first, you think she’s just playing that part. And then she’ll start acting, well, you know…”

Spencer felt the urge to laugh.

“Submissive?” he suggested, the missing word that seemed to want to spill from the man’s mouth.

“Normally. Just normally.”

Something started to smell between them. A distinctive scent. Wounded male ego.

That alone was enough for Spencer to know not to take this conversation seriously. That alone was enough for him to know he could end this conversation whenever he wanted. But before he could take a single step away, he thought about the entire evening he'd spent with her. Everything, from the first message he’d received while still at his apartment.

He counted how many times during their meeting he’d just laughed, having more fun than he’d had in a while. In some unclear way, he felt he owed her that.

“Let me sum this up,” Spencer began, gesturing with his hand and never breaking eye contact with the man. “Because this, in its way, is strange to me. Funny, even, when you think about it.”

The man furrowed his brow, listening. Spencer remained unfazed as he continued.

“First, you met a commanding, confident, and, okay, a little cheeky woman. That didn’t scare you off, though, and you decided you wanted to start a relationship with her. And when it happened, you were surprised she was commanding and cheeky? You know, she doesn’t pretend she’s not like that. You knew what you were getting into.”

"Fine, you know what, this doesn’t make sense," the man sighed. "Do whatever you want. Just remember, I warned you. One day, you’ll be grateful for this."

"Maybe you're right," Spencer admitted, nodding slowly. "It doesn’t make sense."

The man gave him one last look before scoffing and walking away. Reid was left in the bathroom alone, actually reflecting for a moment on the entire conversation. He didn’t think he should have been a part of it at all. The guy must’ve assumed he was interested, or that they were dating. He didn’t have any insight into what their relationship really looked like. In any case, Spencer imagined what it would be like if another guy were in his place. Her actual date. I wonder if a conversation like that would make him turn away, push him away entirely.

After a moment, he concluded that no, it probably wouldn't have. Assuming, of course, that the other guy wasn’t a complete idiot, blindly believing the words of a hurt, maybe even a little jealous ex.

Though, maybe he couldn’t really judge from his position. The position of someone who wasn’t planning on dating her, and who wasn’t interested in her in that way.

He thought for a moment about whether he should tell her about the conversation. He decided against it, not wanting to spoil or ruin the good mood of their evening. Instead, he straightened his hair and, completely unfazed by what he'd just heard, returned to the pool table where she was leaning, clearly growing impatient with his prolonged absence.

"Finally," she hissed at the sight of him. She almost shoved the cue stick into his hand, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "I thought you were trying to escape me. The thought of another loss scared you, huh?"

He paused for a moment, staring at her face—the slightly parted lips, the warm bar light reflecting in her eyes, and the familiar, confident gleam. For a brief moment, a fleeting thought crossed his mind—what did she even see in that guy?

But almost immediately, he dismissed it, considering it none of his business, and took the cue stick from her, ready to start the next game.

#diva reader ♱#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spence reid #spencer reid criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x y/n

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avenging-fandoms · 7 months ago

Text

The Beach - John B Routledge

Summary: You're new to the Pogues, you've been with them for over a year. Sarah and John B have been broken up for a little bit after he found out she cheated, and you hadn't had a boyfriend since you left Rafe on the boat. He takes you and his friends to the beach- only to run into your ex and his friends. One can only imagine when the Kooks and Pogues clash again.

Content warning: Violence, mentions of kidnapping and drugging.

Word count: 2,840

hi hi hi! look a little different? i wanted to umph up my writings and i feel very proud currently. i've quit writing on here a lot but i should just stop posting about it because i end up getting a new fixation or one comes back and i start writing again

this one is a bit long, i got a little carried away. i just love john b and feel he's so underrated

so hi or hello again! i can't wait to hear all your ideas!

please like and reblog!!

(divider credit: @enchanthings )

“The waves are gorgeous today, you comin’?” John B holds onto the doorframe as he leans in your room. You close your book a bit, eyes narrowing.

“I don’t surf, John B. But I’d love to watch you surf.” You smile softly and put your bookmark in, standing up and stretching after spending a few hours in your bed.

John B took in every inch of you as you lean your head back. Cold air sucks through his teeth slowly as his eyes watch your muscles tighten on your stomach, your arms above your head, listening to the soft grunts and whimpers you make.

John B clears his throat, blinking a few times. “Right, uh, I’ll-we’ll be in the Twinkie.” You stand up straight and nod, turning away from him. John B turns quickly on his heels and sighs, running a hand through his hair and heading outside.

JJ is tying the last board to the top of the van when you come out of the house in your bikini and one of John B’s button ups. Kiara spots you first and smirks, nudging JJ who whistles. Sarah rolls her eyes.

You hop in behind the driver’s seat, pushing your sunglasses on your head and putting your bag between your feet. “I packed a few snacks, I didn’t know if there was a cooler or anything but I didn’t want you guys to get hungry.” You smile softly at the Pouges and they all thank you, JJ offering a beer in return, which you decline. You did share his joint with him.

The Pogues found you on the boat where they were saving their friend Sarah, John B’s girlfriend at the time. Rafe had taken you on board as his girlfriend-hostage. You told him you didn’t want to go but Rose gave you and Sarah a tea to make you sleepy, and Rafe hated himself for it.. for a few weeks.

The Pogues didn’t know you and you didn’t know them, but they couldn’t leave you behind. You jumped in the water and John B pulled you into their boat, making sure you were okay before speeding away.

It was awkward the first few days. You didn’t say much and they didn’t try to initiate conversation- except for John B.

No matter if you were sitting by yourself, he made sure to go over and make sure you felt included. He’d bring you over to the group if they were playing a game, and when they played 21 questions, you opened up to them a bit more.

You were still hesitant around them, not speaking up when someone asks what they should do or telling someone they’re wrong. You were new and didn’t feel like you had a right to speak up, as you weren’t technically a Pogue.

John B parks on the beach and you smile, dropping your sunglasses on your nose and stepping onto the warm sand with a relaxed groan, arms out wide as you soak in the sun.

His ears perk up and the hair on his neck tickles him, making him rub it aggressively. His eyes move to his side mirror, watching his shirt blow in the wind on you, exposing your whole torso.

“Are you gonna make a move or are you just going to keep staring at her creepily?” JJ teases and John B pushes his friend’s head. They hop out and help the others pull the boards down.

As you reach up to help bring the last one down, you hear engines roaring behind you. Topper’s car comes into view and you gasp softly, knowing Rafe was most likely behind him.

John B notices your shaky fingers and grabs your hands, pushing his thumb in the hair tie around your wrist. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay.” You look at him and nod, your face turning white as you watch Rafe open his door and step out, eyes on you.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?” You nod and John B hugs you tightly, trying to correct your nerves.

“Pretty sure that’s Rafe’s girl you’re feeling up. Do you have a thing for sloppy seconds?” Topper laughs as he stands in the middle of the Kooks and Pogues.

John B’s jaw clenches and he starts to walk over. “John B.. hey, hey! You can’t fight, no fighting, please.” You beg, gripping his forearm. He looks at your hand then back in your eyes, nodding.

He meets up with Topper and you couldn’t watch. You were afraid a fight was going to start, and Rafe couldn’t stop staring at you and you could feel it.

John B eventually came back over with a sour look on his face, grabbing his board and sticking it in the sand to pull off his shirt. He looks at you and you catch it, John B giving you a soft smile.

You find a spot for your towel where you were blocked from Rafe’s view but you could still see every part of the ocean. You planned on reading your book, but you couldn’t when John B was surfing perfectly.

Your chin rests in your hands with your elbows on your knees as you watch the boys in the water. JJ and Topper surf next to each other only to have Topper wipe completely out, resulting in you folding over in laughter at him.

John B and JJ take a rest in the water so you take the opportunity to pull out your book. Before you could get through the page, you hear a knock on the Twinkie.

“Yn.” Rafe smiles softly and you stand up quickly, glancing over at the ocean where John B had his back turned.

“Rafe.. I don’t.. I don’t want to talk to you.” You wrap your arms around yourself to calm yourself but it doesn’t work. Every Pogue was in the ocean. The Kooks’ view was blocked. No one was paying attention.

Rafe takes a step closer and you take a big one back. “Yn.. I just want to apologize for what I did to you.” His voice sounds sincere but his eyes tell a different story. You knew Rafe, he couldn’t be sympathetic. He was just like his father, how Rafe always wanted to be.

“Rafe, please..” your voice trails to a whisper, pleading him to leave you alone with your fingers lacing together. John B turns around to check on you, and does a double take when he sees Rafe and you slowly stepping back.

“Shit. JJ, let’s go!” The two paddle back to shore, leaving their boards in the sand by the water as they run over to you. John B stands in front of you and JJ stands in front of him.

“The fuck are you doing over here, Rafe?” John B darkens his eyes and he pushes you behind him. You were sure John B could feel your heartbeat on his back. Your nose touches his shoulder blade, peeking your eyes over his shoulder.

"Oh, I just wanted to talk to Yn, John B. Is there a problem with me talking to my girlfriend?" Your stomach starts to spin. John B clenches his fists.

"I'm pretty sure she stopped being girlfriend when you had your step mommy drug her and you kidnapped her." JJ spits and you smile softly at him defending you too.

"Yn, I really am sorry." Rafe steps forward again and John B puts an arm around you from behind him, his hand on your ribs as he pulls you into his salty back.

"You need to go, Rafe," John B's fingers grip his shirt on your body, your cheek pressing against his back where his heartbeat drums loudly in your ear. "Now."

"Scurry on back to your Kooks, don't worry about Yn, you have a girl over there." JJ shoos his hand and Rafe backs away, trying to get a look at you again.

"I'll see you around Yn!" Rafe shouts as he passes the twinkie.

"No you won't, Rafe!" John B yells back.

You try everything to keep the tears from falling but your hands cover your eyes as you begin to shake. "Hey, hey, hey!" John B catches you and holds you tightly close to him as you cry. He sits you both down on your towel slowly.

"How could he think that was okay?" You weep, leaning into John B's shoulder. He sighs and shakes his head, rubbing your arm to help calm your sobs. "Sometimes I just wanna.." You fist a pile of sand, clenching it tightly before letting the particles fall through your fingers.

"Hit him?" John B chuckles and the look you gave him made him stop. He hadn't seen a look like this from you before. "Kill him."

"I feel like I could finally breathe if he wasn't here.” You sigh and John B clears his throat and you can’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry, that sounded crazy.” John B starts to laugh too, shaking your body against his with his hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t say I blame you, honestly.” You two finally look at each other and a soft gasp catches in your throat, your faces close to one another. “He never deserved you."

John B's hand squeezes your shoulder, letting out a shaky breath as he looks at your lips. You lean in slowly only to gasp excitedly and turn John B's head with your hand holding his chin. "It's a hatch!"

You pull him up with you, calling the others over. Kiara squats next to you as you watch them scurry to the sea, JJ and John B making a path for them.

Unbeknownst to you, Rafe was climbing into the driver's seat of his car, starting the engine and revving it. You and John B talk to the turtles as they push through the heavy sand, Kiara taking notice of Rafe in the car. "Hey, stop! There's a hatch!"

You turn around and hear the rev, eyes widening as you look between the turtles and the car. You race to the twinkie, hurrying to find anything that could stop Rafe from killing any of these turtles.

Kiara frantically waves her arms and shouts. JJ and John B are trying to get the turtles to move faster without disturbing nature. You, however, found an old metal baseball bat.

Fuck no fighting, fuck staying quiet, fuck being scared. It was your turn to be scary.

You grip the baseball bat tight in your palms, knuckles turning white when Rafe's car comes into view. You stand in his path, running towards him as he drives and slamming the baseball bat into his windshield.

Glass shatters in his lap and on the hood, a piece cutting your cheek. He brakes aggressively and you don't stop swinging. Sideview mirrors, headlights, tail lights, windows, everything.

"Fuck! You!" You yell over and over, Rafe watching with his hands on his head. "What? Were you gonna try and kill me again, huh?! Did you tell those Kook cunts how you drugged and kidnapped me, or are you still trying to portray yourself as a 'good guy' just like your dad?" You scream as you continue to shatter his back windshield.

"Yn, stop!" JJ grabs the bat with one hand and wraps an arm around your waist, puling you away with John B taking the bat.

"Expect a visit from Shoupe." Rafe smirks.

"Hope your buddies didn't catch me saying you kidnapped and drugged me or you should expect one from Shoupe too!" You yell, Rafe looking at all his friends recording and his smirk drops as well as the color in his face.

JJ carries you all the way over to the Twinkie and puts you inside, pointing his finger at you. "You're in timeout." You snicker and lay back against the floor, covering your eyes with your arms.

You couldn't believe how quickly your mood flipped. But the threat of killing baby turtles sent you over the edge. You sit up and lean out of the van, watching the last few turtles become one with the sea. John B comes over with his board and reaches up to put it on top of his van. You back up slowly to sit against the seats and stare at his body stretching in front of you.

He stands flat on his feet and you look at your nails before he could catch you staring. He helps put the other ones on top and you glance every now and then at his v-line. Everyone eventually gets back in and the drive home is quiet, and you felt at fault.

You wanted to find your place in this wonderful group of friends but you fear you just ruined it. The twinkie squeals to a stop and you're the first one out of the van. John B watches you run into the house, a sigh escaping his nose as his eyelashes flutter.

Everyone disperses elsewhere and John B follows you in to your room. Your door was cracked a bit, John B peeking his eye in to see you laying on your side with a pillow over your head, bandaid on your cheek. He knocks softly to make his presence known but the squeaky hinges did it for him.

You didn't budge. He sat next to you on your bed, looking at the closed door before laying next to you with his back on yours. You two lay like that for a while, just passing breaths back and forth. You could hear JJ and Kiara laughing together outside through your window.

Finally, you roll on your back and stare at the ceiling, studying the popcorn divots in it. John B lays on his left side, hand holding up his head as he looks at you.

He watches your eyelashes as you blink, the twitch of your lips, studying every freckle. You purse your lips softly and he can't stop staring. The tip of your tongue pokes out slightly to wet your lips and you deeply sigh and close your eyes.

John B lifts his hand, using the smallest tip of his finger to trace down your nose, exhaling as he drags. He does it again but to your eyebrows. Your lips part just a bit and finger brushes over the delicate skin.

"He never deserved you." His voice was barely a whisper when his finger traces your jaw, his words from earlier filling the air. You open your eyes, John B's face hovering near yours.

You move closer to him, fully under him now. Your hand pushes back the hair that falls in front of his eyes and you drown in the color. "But he did deserve the bat to the car." You wink and he laughs. His smile slowly drops and he's back to staring intently at you. "Are you ever going to kiss me?" You whisper, a rumble of a laugh coming from John B's throat before pressing his lips softly to yours.

Your arm wraps around his neck and you pull his weight on top of you, his hand holding his body up a bit as his lips move perfectly against yours. Your fingers grip his hair, your right hand pushing down his back and scratching up softly, John B pulling back while biting your lip with a soft groan.

"I've been wanted to do that for so long." He kisses your cheek and jaw, your arms tightening around him to bring him into a hug. "I'm so happy you jumped off that boat, Yn."

"Me fucking too." You kiss his chest and he falls next to you on the other side of you now, the both of you on your sides as you look at each other. "Do you think Sarah's going to be annoyed?"

"I honestly really don't care what Sarah thinks." He pecks your nose. "I've been dreaming about this day since I saw you reading on the hammock a while ago." He blinks a few times as if he was reliving it all over again. "You were always reading, you still are. You still weren't really talking a lot but you started to, even after all that shit in Barbados." He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his chest.

"I know, I just.. I was new, I still am. I don't want to say something and then you guys get mad because I'm not a Pogue."

"You are most certainly a Pogue now." He kisses you a few times before continuing his story. "I remember it was sundown, you love to read and watch the sunset. But I remember this time, you weren't reading, you were nodding off. The book kept falling forward and it eventually fell on your chest. You just looked so peaceful." He wasn't looking at you when he told this story, but out the window to the hammock.

"Sarah is such a fucking idiot." You breathe before kissing him again, rolling on top of him with your hands on his chest. "She didn't deserve you."

"Those fucking Camerons, they have no idea what they’re missing."

“Sucks for them.” You smirk, kissing him again and holding his neck as you deepen the kiss, John B’s fingers tangled in your hair.

#john b #john b routledge #john b x reader #john b x you #john b imagine #john b fanfiction #john b fic #john b routledge x reader #john b routledge fanfiction #john b routledge imagine #outer banks #outerbanks #obx #netflix #outer banks netflix #chase stokes

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thisapplepielife · 4 months ago

Text

Written for @steddiebingo.

Black Velvet, If You Please

It's tacky. Kitsch. An oversized eyesore.

And it's perfect.

Steve couldn't be more pleased. It's exactly what he envisioned and more when he commissioned it.

He watches the artist carefully wrap it, then with their help, Steve picks up one side of the frame, both of them wrangling it carefully so they don't drop it, and carry it out to the waiting car. Gareth's behind the wheel, engine running, like he's the driver of a getaway car.

He kind of is. Eddie's gonna consider this a crime.

And Steve loves it.

They very carefully place it in the folded down backseat of Gareth's ridiculously huge SUV, which for the first time in history actually came in handy. Steve shakes the artist's hand, and then climbs in the passenger side.

"Well. Let me see it," Gareth says.

"It's wrapped, you can see it when we get it to the house," Steve explains. He's definitely not unwrapping it until they get it home safely.

Gareth mutters, but agrees, and puts the car into drive.

Heist over, bounty secured.

Once it's safely hidden away inside the pool house, Steve gently peels back the brown paper and cardboard that has been protecting it.

Gareth leans forward, as if that'll help him get a better look. It's huge. He could see it from across the lawn.

"Holy shit," Gareth says.

"I know," Steve laughs, delighted.

"It takes talent to craft something so magnificently ugly," Gareth says, and Steve agrees. It's ugly because it's on black velvet. That's kind of its thing. But it's not technically bad, nowhere near. It looks just like Eddie, and cost a pretty penny, but Steve definitely got his money's worth. Because the painting is damn good, and exactly what he commissioned.

But utterly and completely ridiculous.

Eddie — on black velvet.

Christmas is gonna be so good this year.

"Why are you talking all the pictures off the wall?" Eddie asks, laying on the couch, eating popcorn, watching the annual A Christmas Story marathon. He's said he isn't moving today, and Steve is taking advantage of that. Eddie won't ask too many questions, for once in his life. Because if he does, he's scared he'll have to help.

"Gonna dust the frames, maybe change things up," Steve says, clearing off the entire wall behind the couch.

Eddie just shrugs, and goes back to watching the Bumpus hounds wreak havoc on the turkey dinner.

And Steve turns back towards the wall, grinning to himself, as he carefully measures, then drills the new holes in the wall to anchor it.

It's like a black ops mission. Steve crawls out of bed just after four a.m. and when he gets downstairs, Gareth, Jeff and Goodie are all standing around waiting.

"Sorry. Overslept. I couldn't set an alarm," Steve whispers, and they just nod, looking tired. He appreciates them all getting up early on Christmas morning just to help pull this off.

Steve stands on one of the dining room chairs, Jeff on another while the other two hold the bottom of the giant frame.

"This is a ridiculous way to spend money," Goodie grumbles.

"Says the man with so many basses that he needs storage units, plural," Gareth banters back.

"Those are for work," Goodie snaps, a little too loudly.

"Sshh!" Steve shushes.

And in an unprecedented move, they stop fussing and fighting.

It's a Christmas miracle.

They get it hung, and the holes Steve drilled yesterday actually work perfectly. He was worried his measurements would be off, and then they'd be screwed. Eddie can sleep through anything, but maybe not power tools in the middle of the night.

"He's gonna shit," Jeff says, and Steve giggles. That about sums it up.

They scatter, back to their own homes, their own families, and Steve goes back to bed.

With no kids, Eddie isn't exactly raring to hop out of bed first thing in the morning, even on Christmas. This will work in their advantage.

Steve stays still in bed, waiting until he hears the first signs of movement from downstairs. They're back. After having Christmas morning with their families, they've all returned to see Eddie's face when he notices this thing for the first time.

Steve gets up, and heads down, and with help gets brunch started. They always do a full spread, the works, and today is no exception. Bacon, eggs, pancakes, biscuits and gravy, ham steak, hash browns, and every burner and the oven are being fired up all at once.

The kids are all screaming at a dull roar, showing each other their new toys from Santa, and Harrington House feels like a home in a way it never did while Steve was growing up.

He loves it.

They finally hear Eddie moving around upstairs. He's loud, by nature, so there was no chance he was gonna sneak up on them.

Steve carefully wrapped the front of the painting after it was hung, anyway, so even if he did, they wouldn't miss his reaction.

"He's coming," Gareth says, stating the obvious.

"He's gonna kill you," Goodie says to Steve, "and I'm gonna tell him Gareth helped."

Gareth makes a noise, and Jeff steps in to intervene. They can't have bloodshed before breakfast.

Then Eddie's coming, heavy feet bounding down the stairs, and they all freeze. Waiting for him to go through the living room.

"What the fuck is that?" Eddie hollers, "Steve?!"

Steve just smiles, and throws his tea towel over his shoulder. When he walks through the doorway, everybody following, Eddie is standing in front of the wrapped painting.

"I don't know. Santa must have brought it," Steve lies, and Eddie turns to look at him.

"What'd you do?"

"Open it and find out," Steve says, and Eddie grabs a corner of the wrapping paper and tears. It doesn't come off in full, but it reveals a hint at what's to come.

"You did not," Eddie says, as he pulls more of the paper loose.

Steve did. He definitely did.

Eddie bends over at the waist and laughs, "I hate you. I hate it."

Then, he stands up, throwing his arms around Steve's neck, "I love it. I love you."

Steve laughs, that's about what he expected. And Eddie pulls away to study it again, as all their friends hoot and holler in the background, riling him up further as they all look at it.

Eddie, painted in his onstage glory, young and wild, on black velvet.

Steve watches as Eddie reaches out to touch the canvas, "Black velvet. Like I'm Elvis."

Yep. That's exactly what Steve had in mind.

Eddie turns back to grin at Steve, "Has Wayne seen this yet?"

If you want to sign up for a future bingo event or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiebingo and follow along with the fun!

Notes: The "painting" image is from this statue of Eddie that's for sale. I thought I could make it look more like a painting than an actual picture from the show.

The title come from the song Black Velvet by Alannah Myles.

#steddiebingo2025 #steddiebingo #prompt: velvet #bingo event: 12 days of christmas #steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fan fic #steddie fic #stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddiebingo #gareth stranger things #corroded coffin #jeff stranger things #freak stranger things

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mayrose713 · 7 months ago

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Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 2

Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI

Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed

I am posting this from my phone at work so I hope everything works. But I hope you all enjoy

Chapter 2

The car ride has been silent so far. Chan’s driving, Jisungs in the passenger seat while Felix and Y/n are in the backseat. Y/n watches out the window as they drive into a small town. She notices a sign that says “Welcome to Stayville”.

Jisungs typing away at his phone, most likely texting the rest of the pack about the omega they are bringing back. Chan looks back at Y/n in the mirror seeing she’s not paying attention to anyone else in the car and looks to Jisung motioning to his wrist. Jisung understood what Chan meant, asking if he messaged them about the bruising on Y/n’s wrist. Jisung nods as the group chat blows up about setting things up for her. A few of the other pack members are skeptical though and aren’t happy about having an outsider in the house, even if it is just temporary.

Felix and Chan have both noticed that even though they are able to smell her and know she’s an omega, her scent is very subtle. At least not as strong as how an omegas scent should be. If it weren’t for her having been upset Chan probably wouldn’t have even smelled that there was an omega around in that park. Why the two beta’s didn’t notice it right away until Chan had stopped since he was the one being observant of the area. But what he’s confused about is how it seemed they were the only 3 in the park that had been able to smell her. And her questioning how they could makes him have a lot more questions and concerns for the omega.

“How many do you have in your pack?” Y/n finally speaks up, turning to the boys.

“There’s 8 of us all together.” Chan looks at her in the mirror.

“We have 4 alphas and 4 betas.” Felix speaks excitedly. “We also kind of help take care of the town.”

Chan pulls onto a dirt road off the main road of the town that is surrounded by woods. If you didn’t know it was there you probably would have missed it.

“When we get home, Jisung can you check and make sure Minho is ready for her?” Chan tells the older beta. “And Felix, please set up the empty bedroom between Changbin’s and Jisung’s room.”

“Really?” Felix’s eyes light up.

“Are you sure hyung?” Jisung looked a bit happy but also concerned by the room arrangement.

Chan nods his head as he pulls up to a large house and parks the car next to four other cars. “I’m certain.”

Jisung nods and he and Felix both get out and head into the house first. Chan chuckles at the two before looking back at the omega who’s ogling the house in front of her.

“This is your home?”

“Yeah, all 8 of us live here together.” Chan gives her a smile. “We all have our own rooms plus a few extra for guests.”

“Do you all work to afford this?” She’s still shocked by the size of the house and notices that behind the house is a large field that looks like it leads to a cliff and the ocean.

“Mostly it’s just Changbin and I who work. We run a multi billion company in the city. And Minho is a dance teacher at a studio not far from our office too. ” He chuckles. “Seungmin technically also works but he really only just coaches a little league baseball team for fun and not for the money. Everyone else just volunteers around the town and for the community center.”

The girl nods in shock, she can’t believe how well off the pack is with how young they are.

Chan gets out of the car and opens the back door for her and crouches down for her to get on his back. “You really don’t have to carry me.”

“Just get on my back, Y/n.” She sighs but listens, letting him take a hold of her legs around his waist and wraps her arms around his neck.

As he carries her to the front porch she notices the mated bite marks on his neck. Four bites on one side and three on the other.

“Minho’s ready for her in the big bathroom.” A beta says who’s leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed, seeming not too pleased by the whole situation.

“Thanks Hyunjin.” Chan sets Y/n on her feet once they are in the house before placing a hand on the small of her back leading her through the house towards what she assumes is the big bathroom.

Another alpha looks up at them through the mirror as Chan and Y/n walk into a large bathroom just off of the living room.

“Place her on the counter.” The alpha says bluntly as he finishes setting up a few different items from a first aid kit causing the omega to tense up.

“This is Minho, he’s just gonna check your bruised wrist and treat any other wounds you have. You’re in good hands Y/n, he’ll take great care of you.” He grabs her hips and lifts her to sit on the counter next to where Minho has everything set up. “I’m gonna go help Felix.” He then turns to the alpha. “Bring her upstairs when you guys are done.”

Minho nods and Chan gives Y/n a reassuring smile before leaving and closing the door behind him.

Minho looks the girl over, he can’t help but observe how she’s wearing leggings and a quarter sleeve shirt even though it’s the middle of summer during a heatwave. Her bare feet are dirty and he notices that even though her hair doesn’t look bad, it hasn’t been washed in a few days at least.

“Give me your wrist.” He holds out his hand to her and she places her good wrist in his hand and he looks at her unamused. She sighs before switching wrists and he starts to examine it. “Do you want to tell me how this happened?”

“Do you actually care?”

Minho gives her a firm look but she feels as though there's a hint of sadness to it too. He continues to examine her wrist, the bruise being mostly purple with a hint of blue to it. She hisses a little when he grips it too hard.

“Luckily it’s not broken, mostly just bruised but possibly sprained.” He grabs a bruise relief cream and starts rubbing it into her skin. “Do you have any other wounds?”

“No” She shakes her head but doesn’t make eye contact with him.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“Maybe you have trust issues.” She shrugs her shoulders before panicking as he pushes her sleeve up showing more bruising on her upper arm and a large gash. “Stop that.”

He grabs her other hand that she tries to push him away with and gives her a hard look. “I’m gonna ask one last time and I want the truth omega. Tell me how’d this happen and do you have any more wounds?” Y/n slump her shoulders and give him a sad look. “And don’t think I didn’t notice the wince you had when Chan grabbed your hips to place you on the counter. You might have been able to hide it well enough from him but not me.”

“I fell down a flight of concrete stairs.” She rests her other hand down letting him do what he needs to with the gash on her arm. “My hip is also bruised and theres a chance my ribs are fucked up.”

“You fell?” He furrows his brows while cleaning the gash. “Are you just that clumsy or were you pushed?”

With a shrug of her shoulders gave the alpha the answer he needed, sighing and applying ointment then bandages the wound on her upper arm.

“Take your shirt and leggings off.”

“Take me on a date first.” Minho lets out a soft chuckle.

“I need to see how bad your hip and ribs are.” He grabs the hymn of her shirt and waits for any sign of her being uncomfortable or her protesting. “We can discuss taking you on a date later.”

When she doesn’t do anything, he can’t help but smile a bit at how flustered she seems from his comment. He lifts her shirt and she helps him take it off, taking in a sharp breath when he sees the large bruising on her side, starting from under bra and going all the way down past her waistband.

“Fuck.” The alpha growls, angry that this poor omega has gone through so much, wanting to understand more of how this happened but knows that at least for now she’s not going to admit anything. “I’m gonna pull your leggings down a bit, not all the way, just enough to see what I’m working with.”

The alpha moves the top of her leggings down a bit just to see how the bruising reaches all the way to the top of her thigh, being careful not to reveal too much, keeping her comfortability a top priority. He notices some raised lines of scarring littering her hip and his eyes sadden.

“It might be best to take you to see a doctor, see if your ribs are broken.” His eyes fill with concern as he grabs a roll of wrap bandages, “For now I’m gonna wrap this around your torso to hopefully ease some of the pain in your ribs.”

“Please don’t take me to a doctor.” Y/n chokes out a little as he’s wrapping the bandages around her. “None of them know how to properly treat an omega.”

“We know a doctor that does. It’s the only one Channie hyung trusts to take Felix and Jisung to. In case you haven’t noticed, the two betas can be a bit omega-like.” He focuses on making sure the bandage is tight enough but not too tight to be painful. “It was one his father had found to take his omega brother to when they were kids. He also makes sure Jeongin’s omega brother goes there as well as Felix’s sister when they are needing any sort of treatment.”

The omega nods, feeling a bit more at ease about it. She winces a little as he ties off the bandage and he gives a soft apology. He grabs her shirt to help her put it back on but frowns as he notices how dirty it is, not having noticed the dirt on her clothes before.

“I’m gonna go get you a new change of clothes.” He then grabs a washcloth from the linen shelf and hands it to her. “Why don’t you clean up a little bit, I’ll be right back.”

The alpha leaves her alone and she slides off the counter, wetting the cloth under the faucet before wiping her face and neck a bit. When she hears a knock on the door she tells Minho to come in and he does, holding a pair of womens sweatpants and a shirt.

“Chan’s little sister comes and visits a lot from Australia.” He explains after noticing her confused look at the clothes. “She basically has her own room here and leaves some clothes here every time so she can pack light. Though she's quite a bit taller than you so the clothes might be a tad long on you.”

Y/n nods in understanding taking the clothes from him. “Will I be staying in her room then?”

“No, her room is down here on the first floor. Has a sliding door to the outside so she can come and go as she pleases without disturbing everyone when she’s here.” He opens the door again to give her privacy. “All of our guest rooms are on the first floor.”

He leaves the bathroom at that, leaving the omega confused. If all of the guest rooms are on the first floor then why did Chan tell Felix to set up the empty room between Changbin’s and Jisung’s rooms? Was he just wanting her closer to the pack in case she needed something? Or was he afraid she might try to flee during the night while they were all asleep?

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this series

Tag list: @estella-novella @mbioooo0000 @ms-flowergirl @blindspot143 @sinfulfic

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stagefoureddiediaz · 1 month ago

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Costume Meta 812 Disconnected

Ok so this would’ve been out a couple of days ago if it hadn’t been a super busy week at work and if a certain something relating to Bobby hadn’t distracted me so this didn’t get finished! It’s also a monster post - I got very carried away with colour theory - but it’s all done now - in the Knick of time before 813 starts - so lets dive in!

I will be focusing on costumes, but there will be quite a bit of set stuff in this meta because it is relevant as it interacts with the costumes, but also because yellow and blue colour theory really was out in full force in this episode which made me so very happy! We also had red and blue colour theory playing out as well in the first Buck and Eddie video call - but we’ll get to that in a little bit.

Let’s start with orange and brown colour theming - the two colours I have spoken about in a lot of my other metas as being the overall colour theme for the season. Here in this episode we get a lot of orange and brown cropping up - especially in connection with Eddie. Most noticable is the amount of brown Eddie is wearing and the journey it goes on through the episode - both in terms of quantity of it, and also in terms of shade!

We see the first brown Eddie is wearing on his yellow ochre cream and brown plaid shirt - the cream and yellow ochre are the more dominant colours, but the Brown is there. After that the next time we see Eddie wearing brown, it is again at the Diaz house. In fact at the Diaz house, we only see Eddie in shades of brown. The rest is below the cut to save your dash!

I have to say I love Ryans answer to the question about Eddies costumes for this episode. As a costumer it’s always great when you have an actor who is invested in what their character is wearing, how they wear it and why they are wearing a certain item. It makes the process collaborative and so much easier - you can really get to know what that actor is seeing in the script and how they are intending to play each scene - what their read on where the character is at and where they are going. Ryan talking about Eddie wearing different clothing in El Paso and how he wanted that to be a thing that we could see is exactly right - it is likely what ABP and her team were intending on doing to some extent, but Ryan specifically stating that he felt that should be the case makes it clear that he too is viewing Eddie as reverting and trying to fit himself back into that mould he broke free of. And the fact that we see the El Paso Eddie most clearly in the costuming when he is around his parents and when he is selling his car makes it even clearer where they are going with their intentions when it comes to costuming, and costuming Eddie in particular in this episode. More on that a bit later!

With the idea of Texas Eddie being different from LA Eddie firmly in mind, lets start with the costumes he wears when interacting with Helena and Ramon. This shirt with the yellow ochre is the brightest of all his outfits for the episode (technically the white tee is brighter, but the grey hoodie tones that outfit down making this one brighter!) and its interesting that we see it as his second outfit - at a point when he is still full of hope and optimism about reconnecting with Chris and the move being a good thing. This is Eddie in the closest colouring to yellow that we’ve seen him in a long time - it’s Eddie closest to his truest self - but even that is at cross purposes because of the check patterning - indicating that its not going to go well for him. In this scene he’s full of hope at beginning to reconnect with Chris and he is hopeful of the job at the firehouse and that having his own place will encourage Chris to move back in with him. After this - when the ps5 doesn’t work in getting Chris back to him and we see his parents undermining him at every turn, his colours mute and become dull and actually drain Eddie of colour as they are not a great choice for him tonally.

Which is exactly what we see with the final Diaz family scene which mirrors the first. This shirt, it is a much darker and more muted toned shirt - where before the yellow ochre and cream were the more dominant colours, here we have the brown being dominant with the beige and green taking a back seat. It’s a reversal of the ochre shirt in the same way that this scene is a reversal of the first scene. Where the brighter colours and lighter tone was indicative of Eddies hope and joy at being reconnected with his son and the possibility of a firefighting job - making him feel like he had stability and that he was succeeding, the darkening and more muted tone of this shirt is indicative of the impact his parents are having on him, and the fact that none of his hopes around his move to El Paso appear to be coming to fruition. The check pattern is indicating that what is happening in that scene is important and will come into play shortly and its also the first time we see Eddie in green toning in this episode - playing into the idea that the army version of Eddie is creeping back in - we’ve barely seen Eddie in green in seasons 7 or 8 - compared with how often we used to see him in it. In fact the only time we’ve actually seen him in green in the past two seasons have been in scenes that have played into that idea of a battle or conflict of some kind. For example - Eddie is in green in 704 when he arrives at the hangar, or he’s in green when he’s out on the boating lake with Kim, or when he’s trying to sublet his house - all scenes that are part of a building conflict within Eddies life.

So to have green appearing here is all about that thread of conflict starting to creep in. If that is meant to be the conflict we get with Chris discovering he’s not a firefighter but an uber driver (which is more an internal conflict) or if its about establishing the up coming conflict with his parents - Mom - remains to be seen - my feeling is its likely to be about both as they are likely connected. He is also not wearing his watch at this point either - which I will come back to in a moment.

In the middle of this we have this burgundy shirt - which is very brown toned. There is no check here, so its not about establishing check theory - although Ramon then takes up that check theory mantle and wears check is shirt is interesting to me and not only because it almost matches the mug! It looked much more maroon toned in the stills we got, but seeing it on screen, it is definitely more burgundy. Burgundy is a colour that is meant to represent power and sophistication. But it is also a colour that is connected to being prideful, introspection, being reserved and compassionate but also being a control freak. It also ties into the colouring I spoke about in my stills drop meta about the Diaz kitchen in 517. In that meta (read it here) I spoke about the darker red centred around Ramon being a symbol of poor health, while the brighter red in that scene surrounding Eddie was about him being in a healthier place, and that it was a symbol of Ramon missing out on things - on time and is what we’re kind of seeing in play here - this is Eddie not in a great place - his life is not going how he’d hoped - he’s struggling with connecting with Chris, he’s not a firefighter and he thinks that’s the only thing that Chris has ever been proud of him for so he’s failed there, he’s actively lying again and the job he has got is not going well and he had to give up the truck as part of that and he is having to let his parents provide for Chirs even further as he doesn’t have money coming in. He is also dealing with them undermining him, so it’s a symbol of everything compounding on him. To further add to this - he is not wearing his new blue strap watch - a symbol of the life he has left behind in LA (as it’s a firefighter watch). The fact that this scene and the brown check shirt scene are both missing the watch is pretty revealing. If you look at all the Eddie scenes across the episode you can see the watch in all of them, except these two - the two scenes when Eddie is at his lowest and feels like the biggest failure, when he isn’t having any success in anything - including getting to hear his son actually ask for his opinion on something he wants to do. Eddie feels like he is against the clock ans we actively see him missing out on something he came back to El Paso to try and do - parent his son. He has placed importance on being able to financially provide for Chris and he’s failing at doing that and then he is asleep and so misses Chris actively choosing to include him in his life and weigh in on an decision. The watch returns the moment Eddie starts making money - when he is able to provide in a financial way for Chris again - he has time once more.

It’s also one of the few times we see his hair not in his Texas helmet hairstyle around his parents - which to me feels like its about showing him as the not put together Eddie he’s trying to portray to his parents - when he’s asking for his parents to cover chess club fees because he’s not yet making any money as uber Eddie - its about showing us that his parents are seeing Eddie as a failure in that moment.

The other scene we have at the Diaz family home is on the couch when he is handing a computer game to Chris. I will talk about the insane amount of yellow and blue in this scene later on, but for now, we’re looking at costumes. You can see yet more check on Ramon in this scene, while Chris is in horizontal stripes - in yellow ochre and brown. Helena is in pale pink and white vertical stripes, while Eddie is in a solid black Henley and back to wearing his new watch - like I said above - he has time on the parenting clock once more.

In many ways the black Henley is a symbol of both Texas and LA Eddie - we see him wearing Henley’s of multiple colours in both environments in the show. Black ones however seem to be heavily attached to scenes that lead into issues - most of which surround Chris.

As a very quick rundown of when he wears a black Henley we have stolen money interrogation in 215 (which is attached to the flashbacks of arguments with Shannon about Chris’s surfing lessons and money), Eddie picking up Chris after Shannons death in 217, and in 218 when Bobby returns to the firehouse but Buck is still not there and Eddie makes his ‘almost’ comment about things being back to normal. Then we don’t see another one until Eddie takes in Hoover in 605, in 609 when he is playing computer games when Buck tells everyone he has successfully helped to create life, in 614 at Pepa’s house when she is setting Eddie up on a blind date, which ultimately leads to him dating Marisol, and finally in 701 When Buck talks to Chris about dating and Eddie then gives Chris the letter Shannon wrote for him.

As I hope you can see, most - but not all - are connected to Chris is some way - the only ones I would say aren’t directly connected to Chris are the 218 one at the firehouse and the sperm donor one in 609 - although it is connected into the concept of fatherhood - and that is what I think the black Henley means on Eddie - its about Eddie as a father and his ability to be able to provide for his son being called into question in some way - financially or through the provision of a second parental figure - either Shannon as Chris’s actual mother, or through the family expectation that a mother figure should exist in some way - which is then technically connected back to Shannon because Marisol is caught up in the Kim of it all (that part of this is technically a retcon as the Marisol of it all and the subsequent bringing back of Shannon within that arc wouldn’t have been known when the 614 scene was shot). The thing with all these scenes is that they precede issues of varying degrees treat Eddie encounters as a father.

Here in this scene we have Eddie able to provide for his son - financially - but Helena is still subtly calling him out and we know that he is lying about his income source at this point in time and that this lie is going to get discovered - it’s preceding the issue he is about to face of Chris discovering him in another lie.

We see Eddie in this episode wearing blue a couple of times, the first time we have the blue Eddie is as we open the episode with him at the 270 El Paso firehouse. Eddie is wearing what is effectively a blue check version of a firefighters uniform - navy trousers, black shoes and a blue shirt, even down to the belt with the square silver buckle imitating a firefighter belt. Eddie is also wearing his firefighter watch - adding further to the blue on blue of this costume. The shirt is a navy check over a lighter blue background, which is obviously not fully replicating a fire fighters uniform shirt, but it is about playing into check theory - that its Eddie at a crossroads and that things are not likely to go well for him at the firehouse in this episode (the dialogue is suggestive that the hiring freeze will end and he’ll get to become a firefighter again, but that he will also fulfill the captains fears and leave - when LA tugs at him and pulls him back) - but the use of all blue is really about pushing the narrative of Eddie identifying himself as a firefighter. It’s check theory establishing the fact that Eddie has relied on that identity as a firefighter in the same way he did with his identity as a soldier. It’s telling us that Eddie isn’t going to be able to identify himself through that route anymore - it’s about stripping that part of him away in the same way they removed his identity as a father. This is the deconstruction of Eddie in costume - giving a nod to his past (for now) career as a firefighter, whilst also setting him up as a wearer of check as he becomes ‘more Texas’ and essentially reverts back to pre LA Eddie - the one we saw in 315.

Then we see him in his new home in a short sleeved blue Henley with khaki green trousers. This costume was perhaps the most interesting choice in the entire episode to me and becasue even more so after Ryans interview answer about Eddies style changing in Texas. Becasue this costume is the one that most loudly speaks of Eddies style in LA - and it really helps to showcase the duality of Eddie in this moment - something his costumes across the entire episode play into. Around his parents - at their house specifically - and in that opening scene at the firehouse, we get a lot of check and a lot of clear nods to Texas Eddie. While in other scenes - when he’s talking to Buck and therefore connected in to LA, or in the last scene when he reconnects with Chris, we see his costumes closer to his LA style. You can see this style most clearly in his first video call with Buck - he’s just found out he hasn’t got a job at the firehouse in El Paso and is contemplating a return to LA so he can at least keep on providing for Chris.

The blue is a greyish blue and has that muted tone to it I spoke about earlier, but it is very much an outfit I would associate with LA Eddie and its doing multiple things in this scene, its connecting him into LA yes, but a part of that is showing where he actually belongs - the fact he’s wearing it when the El Paso captain calls to tell him about the hiring freeze is about the fact that part of him is still in LA - but it also connects him into being a firefighter because Eddie doesn’t wear blue that often - he does wear it, but its infrequent in his non uniform attire. It’s also about connecting him to Buck in two ways, firstly the few times we do see him in blue outside of his uniform, it is nearly always connected to Buck in some way - think Poker date, or the conversation about his dad in Chris’s room in Hero complex or when he’s telling him about the will or asking Buck for Help with Chris when he won’t come out of his room. And secondly, by having them both in blue for this scene and then also having them both connected into red - Bucks apron being the same maroon red as the chair Eddie sits in. Both aspects of this connection to Buck are about showing the depth of the our connection and also about Eddie listening to and hearing Buck - which is also something we see in those other scenes when Eddie wears blue.

The other thing its doing is telling us that when Eddie is alone - when he’s isn’t performing in any way, he reverts to wearing what he would wear in LA - that is his true style and true self. The show is literally showing us who Eddie is - at a moment when he’s had everything he holds as his identity stripped away from him (just like he’s stripping off that wallpaper I will get to in a minute!) - he isn’t a firefighter and he isn’t a father (in this moment as Chris is still not back with him and Eddie is feeling that divide) - the two things he has put at the centre of who he is and all he is left with is the parts of himself he hasn’t considered part of his identity - LA and Buck - its about that red string of fate connecting Eddie to those two things. That is why we have the red armchair in use here and why they have changed out Bucks usual firehouse apron for the maroon one. (I am going to point out that Buck is seemingly working on a salad at he firehouse - if you want to add it into salad theory then feel free to do so😎)

We also have the blue of the denim shirt. This outfit mirrors the one from the above scene - the blue and khaki combo - but a more Texas version. I’ve already written a lot about this outfit in my pre episode meta - and I stand by a lot of what I said about the repeat outfit of it and how it is connected into the concept of family and being on the right path, but also how it is connected to breaking free. I wanted to see the scene in full before I committed to anything solid around Shannon and Eddies grief and while we didn’t get anything explicit in the scene around Shannon - Eddies difficulty and sadness over giving up the Denali really does play into that concept of it being tied to Shannon and his grief and of letting her go. The reason I say this is because up to this point he hasn’t had much luck in connecting with Chris and things are not looking great for him, but in getting rid of the truck he does actually start to make progress and even though he lies about his job, he is able to salvage things with Chris - he owns up to his lying -thanks to Buck stopping his spiral and prompting him into making contact and actually pushing a bit - something he hasn’t done up to this point (that we’ve been shown) and his doing so bears fruit and he gets to reconnect with Chris - the act of letting go of the truck (and also his conviction that being a firefighter is the only thing Chris is proud of him for) symbolically is Eddie letting go of the last piece of his old life and that final piece being gone essentially frees Chris from the burden of it as well. I don’t know how much the show is going to show Chris and Eddie rebuilding their relationship from here - or if it will contain much angst (my feeling is that it won’t - that the angst will come from the Helena and Ramon side of things in Texas - but I do know that they’ve effectively cleared that final hurdle and that Chris and Eddie will just be seen rebuilding their relationship into something new before they return to LA. The key scene link with this outfit is the one from Eddie begins - it sets this costume as Texas Eddie, but it also connects into a scene where Eddie and Chris bond and begin to forge a new relationship - after his fight with his parents. The fight hasn’t happened yet but this outfit marks the same point in Eddie and Chris’s relationship as it did in Eddie begins - the actual beginning - when they were actually on the same page and able to connect - in a period after Shannon had left (the car representing Shannon leaving in this 812 scene).

A slight detour from costumes so that I can talk about Yellow and blue colour theory and its insane levels and use in this episode! I have already mentioned it a couple of times above and I did speak about it at length in my pre episode meta as well, but now I have seen the full extent of the car lot, and seen more of Eddies house and the make up of those scenes, I have a lot to say!

Car lot first - soooooo much yellow - like an insane amount of yellow as you can see in the picture above and below - Eddie is literally surrounded by it. There is also a lot of blue there as well in the scene - it’s just not visible in these screen grabs - but it is in the stills.

The Diaz parents house - which I’ve spoken about at length is also heavily coded yellow and blue - you can see the couch in the picture I included earlier, but below you can see a wide overhead shot which really highlights just how much blue and especially yellow there is. We‘re set up for Eddies arc of self discovery and now he has regained some grasp on fatherhood - we will be able to watch him continue to dismantle himself through his fixer upper and then build the new version of Eddie - but we’re still in the deconstruction part right now (more on that in a minute!) It’s no coincidence that the entirety of the Diaz parented house is yellow and blue coded. The screen grab of the wider high up angle shots we got show us the blue and yellow of it all - it’s essentially queer coding Eddies childhood in my eyes - the house being multiple shades of yellow and it being on the walls, while the blue is more there in scent form - chairs and curtains or dish towels. Yellow is Eddies colour and there was no reason for them to have gone that heavy on the yellow and blue coding in this episode around Eddie (espeically when you consider the madney scenes are heavily red coded!) in his parents house if it wasn’t about playing on the yellow and blue colour theory. They could have chosen any colour combination to decorate Helena and Ramon’s house but they chose these colours because Eddie is the main character here and Helena and Ramon are essentially plot devices - there to serve Eddies storyline and therefore their home is there to serve that same narrative, hence why it is colour coded for Eddie.

I’ve gone on and on about how yellow and blue colour coding in media is about queer coding - how it stems from the Wizard of Oz and the ‘friend of Dorothy’ being code for being gay and how it really found its feet during the Hayes code era, but how it has essentially become shorthand for queer subtext when it was still taboo for queer narratives to be told and how that has then transferred into actual queer media as an indicator of it being queer media (Heartstopper, RWRB, love Simon, stranger things, Mary and George etc etc all using the colour theory as part of the visual narrative), so to have Eddies childhood home (we assume - its certainly implied in Hero complex to be the case) so heavily yellow and blue coded (yellow especially) is suggestive that Eddies queer arc is going to stem from his childhood. Espeically as like I said in my pre episode meta - the yellow and blue is much more heavily surrounding Eddie than others in those scenes - look at Chris and Ramon on the yellow couch while Eddie is on the armchair - the room is yellow dominant - the darker yellow walls, the yellow of the couch and armchair themselves. But while the couch throw cushions are brown toned the throw cushion on the armchair is blue - subtly placing Eddie in the yellow/blue colouring while Chris and Ramon are yellow/ brown coded. Even Ramons blue check shirt is helping surround Eddie in the yellow and blue as he reaches over to hand Chris a computer game.

At the dining table during the scenes set there, the yellow walls and blue curtains are much more heavily surrounding Eddie compared with anyone else. Ramon and Chris have a lot more of the white of the cupboards or the nets at the windows in their backgrounds, and in the case of Helena, the net curtains and the painting makes up her background, breaking up the yellow and blue. We even have the very yellow lampshade positioned above Eddie during the scene - yes Ramon also appears under it, but it’s held in shot over Eddie far longer.

The fact that it’s specifically the walls that are yellow is also key. The show is very heavily playing on the metaphor of a house being a representation of the person who owns/ lives there - it’s something they’ve been doing with Eddie since the beginning. We were shown the LA Diaz house in season 2 early on and shown that all the spaces Chris occupied were far more decorated than Eddies bedroom, with brighter colours used in the decorative aspects such as furniture, pictures and carpets etc while Eddies room is painted magnolia with a simple dark blue bedspread, sparsely furnished and no art on the walls - it was all about showing us that Chris is Eddies focus - that he comes first in every aspect of who Eddie is - to the detriment of Eddie himself. The bedroom being sparse and cold is symbolic of Eddie neglecting himself - his own wellbeing. We only see this change slowly over time with the introduction of a bit of art on the walls - which all connects into his Texas and Mexican roots but plays on the idea of it being an inhospitable environment - cactus artworks suggesting prickliness. After he has destroyed his room we see the most drastic change - Eddies room gets colour - the walls are painted blue and we get new artwork, new lamps and furniture. The room is still cold though - the blue is icy and the art is a black and white photo of El Capitan and the yellow toned painting of a lone cowboy on a horse. Its saying that Eddies room is still not a warm and comfortable and inviting space - that his mind isn’t - that he still has a mountain to climb and also that he is a bit of a Lone Ranger.

So here, in what we are going to assume is Eddies childhood home, to have the walls being multiple shades of yellow is about the concept of yellow representing the very fabric of who Eddie is. Like the foundations, the walls and roof of a house are fundamental aspects of the structure - they are basic requirements of a house - and are therefore representative of the core parts of who someone is - Eddie in this case - and because it is his childhood home these walls are showing us who young Eddie is/was. They’re telling us this is the Eddie that needs to be rediscovered and then they further this concept by having Eddie ripping down the wallpaper in his fixer upper house - revealing yellow walls beneath the blue - in a yellow that is the same colour as the walls in the Diaz family house - suggesting Eddie is getting back to who that Eddie is.

The blue check pattern wallpaper in Eddies new house is also giving us information about Eddie - its telling us that check pattern theory is in play in Eddies life in a big way - indicating that big change is coming in the fundamentals of who Eddie has become - that the very fabric of who he is currently is going to be changed.

There is something to be said about Eddie removing the blue from the house and revealing the yellow of his childhood underneath. It’s not just about the fact that that Buck is blue coded while Eddie is yellow - which is important and plays on the idea that we are stripping back Bucks perspective of Eddie and seeing the real Eddie to a certain extent, but its also about Eddie removing layers of the things he himself has hidden behind - he’s hidden behind Buck and allowed himself to not get lost exactly, but to almost fade down. It’s about the show giving us Bucks pov on so much of Eddie that we don’t actually see who Eddie is and this plot line is about the fullness of Eddie being revealed - that we’re able to now see Eddie without the Buck goggles on - but also that Eddie is able to do that as well - Buck has provided Eddie with a huge safety net up to this point - stepping in and being that coparent to Chris with him and having his back at work. Eddie now gets to figure himself out - he still has Buck in his life and Buck is still going to have his back, but Eddie is learning to do things for himself to a much greater extent and this shows that transition for him. The entire house is a metaphor for Eddie finding himself now he has had everything stripped away from him. He is starting to put some of himself together - setting up furniture and making it feel a bit more homely even if the building itself needs a lot more work and its no coincidence that we see Chris coming to him at the moment we get to see that he has actually made inroads in that unpacking himself and setting up his living room - a space that is a shared one which enables him to be vulnerable in a way he hasn‘t really done before with Chris.

The show was given us box POV on so much of Eddie that we don’t actually see who Eddie is and this plot line is about the fullness of Eddie being revealed they were able to now see Eddie without the buck goggles on and without his identity as a firefighter but also that Eddie is able to do that for himself as well. we saw this concept played out to a certain extent in Season five after Eddie‘s breakdown when he left the 118, but he was still technically a firefighter then but was physically there providing Eddie with a huge safety in it stepping in and supporting him. Eddie is now in a situation where all that has been taken away from him and he now gets to figure himself out – he still has back in his life and is still going to have His back, he’s still a safety in it – as we see through the video calls, but Eddie is learning to do things for himself to a much greater extent this episode is about setting that up and showing that transition for him.

I do just quickly want to mention the sagey green wall at the far end of the room which appears to be the wall with the doors that go through to the bedroom and bathroom parts of the house. The fact this wall is green is playing into Eddie‘s army green colouring, the bedrooms are the most private spaces in a house and therefore are representative of your innermost self, your truest self. We’ve seen this metaphor play out before with Eddie when he destroyed his bedroom back in season five it was about him trying to destroy part of who he was at his core. so using Green on that wall is suggestive that Eddie is not ready to deal with that part of himself yet and that is why he’s focused on the living room, the shared space of the house and will work his way towards the bedrooms.

Staying with the set aspect of it all for a little bit longer - we need to talk about couch theory because sue it was doing some very heavy lifting in this episode - and not just because Eddie mentions that he might need to sleep on Bucks uncomfortable couch! Because when Eddie is making that comment his couch is in shot – I need his covered in a dust sheet. At his own couch is not available to him and the show is taking great care and effort to establish the idea that Eddies couch is the right couch – but it’s the one both buck and Eddie are comfortable on and that they are able to be themselves on it and leather filters down. But falling asleep there easily after the lightning strike when he was having trouble sleeping on his own loft, Eddie discovering joy for himself heavily featuring the couch and then we also see both of them sat on it together for the very first time after that – showing them sharing joy and sorry together and just being able to be – not needing to say a word.

There is something to be said about Eddie removing the blue from the house and revealing the yellow of his childhood underneath. It’s not just about the fact that buck is blue coated well Eddie is yellow which is important and plays into the idea that we are stripping back box perspective, Eddie and seeing the real Eddie to a certain extent, but it is also about Eddie removing the layers of things he himself has hidden behind most of his life. He’s hidden behind various people or jobs for most of his life, Helena in the beginning, Shannon in his team and young adult is, the army, Chris as soon as he was born, and Eddie became a father and since moving to LA, being a firefighter and buck. This allowed himself to, not get lost exactly, but it just exist in the safe space that these people and jobs help create and that meant he didn’t have to examine those parts himself at his core.

It being covered over with a dust sheet here in this scene is about protecting it – it’s the most important thing in the scene – it’s literally the only piece of furniture that Eddie has covered up, yes there are things still in boxes, but may many of those are semi unpacked and none of the rest of his furniture is covered to protect it. Eddie is tearing down the house, but the couch is the one thing he has chosen to ensure has protection from the fallout while he literally stripped back the walls – stripping back the layers of himself.

It’s also a metaphor for Eddie not wanting to look at what the couch represents in that moment – that he is not ready to examine what the couch means – family, love, and comfort. Is a way of Eddie denying himself those things – he is still punishing himself and he needs to work on the fabric of himself before he can begin to examine what exists on the couch. Doing this also gives us a parallel with fucking 601 choosing not to replace his couch and just use the armchair – to work on himself before he finds a couch that is the right couch for him. In this scene Eddie only has his red leather chair to sit up. He is denying himself the comfort and love the couch provides. It is a show building further layers to the couch metaphor, which they take even further with the living room itself.

Eddie does eventually set up the living room - even as he is still working to remove the blue wallpaper - but he only sets the couch up once the blue is removed from the couch side of the room - so that the walls around the couch are yellow - bringing yellow and blue colour theory into play once again. The other thing about the living room itself is the way that its been set up to replicate the way he had his living room set up in LA - the front door behind the couch to its left, set up in front of the fireplace, with the red leather chair to the left of the fireplace. The room is narrower, so it’s a more compact version, but even the windows are located the same positions, they have even set up the dining room shelves in a position that mimics the large carved cabinet in Eddies LA living room set up (I assume the cabinet is in one of the bedrooms and that’s why we don’t see it - because it wouldn’t actually fit there!)! This is showing us that LA is where Eddie actually wants to be - where he feels he truly belongs - it’s about that home he had set up in LA being the right home for him and the couch now being set up is about Eddie being ready for Chris and Chris is the only one to sit on it - Eddie hugs Chris on the couch, but he never actually interacts with it himself.

And then there is the additional fact that in the previous episode, Buck sets up his own furniture in the Diaz LA living room in the same layout that Eddie had his - Buck toys with the idea of having the furniture in a different layout as you can see from this screen grab below

but the show makes a big effort to then show us that he has it set up to replicate Eddies layout. It really shows us that they belong together - that they are a family and that set up is a representation of their family dynamic. The other aspect of Buck decor is how cold it is - Buck is making it home by setting it out in the same way, right down to the armchair as Eddie had it but the colouring of his furniture doesn’t work with the cream walls where it did in the loft with its industrial and darker toned spaces. The loft was all greys and blacks and white and warm toned browns and high ceilings. But Eddies house is magnolia and the ceilings are lower and the lighting is brighter and coming from all angles instead of from one. Because of this it makes the space look like it lacks in colour - Eddie had coloured furniture and a rug to add warmth to the space, as well as the art on the walls, but Bucks furniture and art is making it look very flat toned and bland. It really plays into the idea of Bucks world being drained of colour without Eddie in it (not that he has been drained of colour, but the world around him).

The other aspect of the set design - before we go back to costumes, is the three magnets on Bucks fridge! Yes magnet theory is back in business! we only have the three magnets on Bucks fridge - which I find very interesting considering the fact that he had gone for a full assault of magnets and pictures on his fridge during 8a. the fact we have a yellow magnet, a blue magnet and a white/grey magnet and their positioning is making me thing about the sun moon and earth. Buck is the blue magnet as per yellow blue colour theory, and Eddie is the yellow one and I think the grey one is meant to represent Tommy.

The reason I think this is because it’s meant to be a play on the way Eddie and Tommy had been lit around Buck, as well as the use of lighting in 811 for the Tommy scenes - the use of darkness for the hook up especially (in fact its no coincidence that the majority of the BT scenes took place at night!). In 704 we were shown Eddie being bathed in light - glowing with light haloed around him, Tommy in that same episode was always in shadow or darkly lit - you can see it very clearly during the basketball game, but the loft scene between Buck and Tommy also shows Tommy being lit darkly and partially in shadow.

Even the kitchen scene in 811 shows Tommy always in shadow - he never goes near the windows - always in the shadow of the cabinets or on the far side of the room away from the light. This is because Buck is the earth and he orbits around Eddie - who is the sun, while Tommy essentially orbits around Buck (he’s a plot device that’s what they do!). The sun generates its own heat and light, whereas the moon can only reflect the sun’s light.

This is a play on the fact that Buck has misunderstood who’s attention he was trying to get - its no mistake that scene at the loft took place at night while all the times Buck was trying to get someone’s attention it was bright daylight. The moon is known as a symbol of enlightenment and transformation (and madness) and those are both things Tommy has helped Buck with but at the end of the day, the moon is borrowing its light from the sun in the same way Tommy is borrowing light from Eddie. The sun is a life force, but the moon is not - its reflected light can help guide you in the dark when it is full, but it cannot sustain life. That is exactly what we have seen play out with Buck Tommy and Eddie so far - Buck has been enlightened by Tommy, but he cannot be sustained by that - he needs the sun - Eddie - to thrive!

Back to costumes now and while we’re here, we’ll talk about Bucks teal. Teal is such an interesting colour - its a combination of of blue and green and can lean in either direction - this one is more blue toned - its almost peacock blue - but there is enough green in it to class it as teal (Bucks phone case is more peacock blue) Teal is a colour of clarity and openmindedness and objectivity and wisdom. These are all key traits we see Buck exibitiing in this scene - especially objectivity and clarity which he provides to Eddie and which Eddie takes on board and as a result is able to really make some inroads into healing things with Chris.

We are also meant to draw a comparison between Buck and Chris - who are both on Eddies dash in shades of blue. Buck is obviously in teal as we;ve just discussed, while Chris is in a blue that looks like Bucks normal blue. Chris being in blue here is really important as blue is a colour associated with trust, responsibility and protection - the little photo of Chris here is a representation of what Eddie is trying to regain - his parental responsibilities for his child who he wants to protect (and feels he failed) and Chris’s trust and Buck in his teal hoodie is able to provide the wisdom clarity and objectivity that allows Eddie to begin to do just that later in the episode.

I do just want to quickly mention the tree air fresheners while we’re here as well. We see Eddie fit a blue tree to his rear view mirror at the beginning of his uber Eddie arc and he then purchases a green one and switches them out just before he picks up Ezra and Chris and it remains during his talk with Buck. It’s no coincidence that we get this colour switch at this moment in time. The blue tree is representing those traits we spoke about above - trust, responsibility, and protection and blue can also be a symbol of reliability as well as conservatism. These are all traits Eddie needs to be an uber driver and that is why we have the blue tree there during the montage of his adventures in that job. But in the scene with Chris and the chat with Buck the green colour meaning is needed. Green is growth and renewal, hope and the future, but it is also judgemental. Eddie is judging himself in this couple of scenes and he thinks Chirs is too, but Buck also helps him to find some hope for the future and we see Eddies growth in the fact that he takes on board Bucks advice and actually actions it which leads to the renewal of Eddie and Chris’s relationship.

There is a second aspect to the green tree as well - back in 701 Eddie talks to Buck about Chris dating multiple girls and asks him to talk to Chris about it. They are dealing with a small car fire and Buck hands the cars owner a green tree air freshener and says that it wasn’t a total loss when he asks. We have a parallel conversation here between Buck and Eddie and once again - it’s not a total loss for Eddie - he has a chance to salvage something.

Let’s finish up on Eddies grey which has an interesting journey with Eddie. We’ve seen him wear an increasing amount of grey in the seasons where he is going through mental health arcs - so seasons 5 and 6 are grey heavy. This seaosn so far hasn’t been, but we get a pretty sizeable chunk of this episode with him in grey.

We start with the montage of him dealing with all the various issues in his fixer upper house showing us a hint of the reality of what Eddie has purchased, and then we spend all of his time as an uber driver with him wearing a grey hoodie over a white tee. Grey is a neutral, balanced colour and is also ambiguous and considered a colour of safety, professionalism and practicality.

The fact that they have been increasing the amount of grey Eddie wears as we go through the seasons where he is dealing with his mental health is interesting, because of its neutrality as well as safety, but here in this season I find interesting not only on that front, but also its ambiguous connotations. The fact that we see him trying to settle into his fixer upper house - dealing with leaks and faulty electrics etc whilst wearing grey (or grey blue as that is what he was wearing in the scene when he didn’t get he firefighting job - it needed to be both blue and grey!) makes that ambiguity clear - Eddie is unsure about what he is doing - if it is the right thing to be doing at all. It also ties that ambiguity to Eddie tearing down and rebuilding his life and himself - ambiguity about which way it could go - success or failure - but also straight or queer. Its a bit of a tease from the wardrobe team as to Eddie’s arc - that the straight or queer question is one that needs to be asked and if that needs to be asked then the answer will fall in the queer camp - hence the yellow and blue coding in the rooms themselves.

The hoodie over the white tee is essentially Eddie in uniform and it plays into those other meanings of grey - safety professionalism and practicality - once more all things we see Eddie exhibit in his uber driver scenes - especially when he has learnt the unwritten rules of being an uber driver from his very helpful passenger. The blue ties and zip give a little nod to the trustworthy and protection and responsibility elements of blue as well all working together with the grey but also still keeping him connected to his blue firefighters uniform in a low key way - suggesting things he learnt as a firefighter are relevant to him i his job as an uber driver.

Right, I’m going to stop waffling now as this has got super long and is super late! As always, I hope you enjoyed this costume meta that was more a set meta and colour theory conversation than about the costumes this week, and thanks for taking the time to read it - it means a lot to me.

Tagged people below and do let me know if you want adding to the list!

@lover-of-mine @spotsandsocks @fruityfirehose @wanderingwomanwondering @livingwherethesidewalkends @buddiediaz118 @bewitchedbewilderedbisexual @satvojihusana @elvensorceress @icebergeddie @buckleyanddiaz @eddiedisasterdiaz @kejfeblintz @cookie-kat777 @leothil @bucksbelly @kyoteugly @bi-moonlight @somebodycall911onabc @trudayss @chaosandwolves @lemotmo

#Kym costume meta #911 costume meta #911 colour theory #Kym colour theory #911 set design #this is so much later than I intended to get it out!#its been a bit of an insane week!#911 abc #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #911 on abc

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leupagus · 20 days ago

Text

Tentative title is "Dana once offered to spread the rumor that she and Jack were sleeping together just to get the gossipers off his back, but Jack truthfully told her that everyone would know she was too good for him" although it might be a little long

continued from this, because there is nothing funnier than a middle-aged doctor who keeps getting nonconsentually paired up with every hot colleague at his hospital and would like it all to Stop Please.

Jack’s used to it, is the thing. Has been for his whole life; he’s the only boy in a family of five, with all the attendant you-must-carry-on-the-family-name expectations. Starting when he was about nine years old, people had questions about every girl he talked to. Ooh she seems nice, oh what’s her name, ooooh do you liiiiiike her? He’d probably be more annoyed about it except for the fact (which his mom liked to remind him at every opportunity) that the first time it ever happened was with Leslie, who he married as soon as he could and stayed married to as long as he could.

Turned out it wasn’t long enough, but the point is that he honestly can’t remember a time when people didn’t take a weird, invasive interest in his personal life.

“What personal life, out of morbid curiosity?” asks Lena, peering at him over her glasses. “Also why are you here?”

It’s 0300 the night of (technically, the morning after) Pittfest; the custodians are still getting the last of the rooms cleaned up after the chaos, but everything else is more or less back to normal. Jack managed to get almost four hours’ sleep before his bum leg prodded at him with phantom pains, the kind that only go away when he’s giving himself some actual pain to focus on. So here he is on his night off, and the charge nurse is giving him shit.

“Ow,” Jack remarks, pressing his hand over his heart. “Starting to feel a little unloved, boss. Didn’t you miss me?”

“Didn’t have a chance to,” says Lena, with a twinkle in her eye. “You left four hours ago, remember?”

“Like it was a mere four hours ago,” he says agreeably. Lena’s mean as shit to most of the attendings and actively violent with HR, but she’s got a soft spot for Jack, which is usually a good thing.

Except for times like this, when it leads her to add, “But sounds like someone on days loved you plenty.”

“Oh, no,” Jack mutters, and tries to brace for it even as he scans the board — relatively easy night so far, Ellis and Shen and Yao with four patients each and Chairs down to an eight-hour wait. “What’d you hear, boss?”

“I heard that Doctor Mohan was very impressed with you,” Lena coos, just as Shen goes striding past.

“Woah, we talking about Sam? Dude,” Shen says, and offers what Jack assumes are very supportive finger guns. “She was talking about that little warzone crike kit you pulled out for hours. So after you guys left, did you and her—” He makes little pah-pow noises, his eyebrows raised interrogatively.

“You call her Sam?” Jack says, not sure if he’s more disconcerted by the noises, the nickname, or by the brand-new rumor that he’s shtupping Mohan. “And no, we didn’t, and no,” he adds, turning to point at Lena, “she wasn’t. Isn’t.”

“Wasn’t isn’t what, hon?” Lena asks innocently.

Ellis, walking past with Janie, slows down with a way-too-alert expression on her face. “Who wasn’t isn’t?”

“Nobody,” says Jack, at the same time as Shen says, “Sam,” and Lena says, “Doctor Mohan,” with relish.

“Ohhh, so that’s finally happened?” asks Janie, clasping her hands together. Jack hates all of them and is going to ask for a transfer to a hospital in Anchorage. Or Mars, that weird rich guy must need doctors for colonizing Mars, right?

“No, it hasn’t happened,” he says, as level as he can manage. “Just like it hasn’t happened with… let’s see, last year it was Dr. McKay, year before that it was Nurse Jesse, year before that it was you,” he points to Ellis, who looks as grossed out as he’d been at the time. “Yeah. So thank you to all my yenta people—” he’ll have to ask Robby about the plural of yenta is— “but Dr. Mohan and I are not dating, nor are we…whatever that finger guns thing was supposed to imply.”

“It was supposed to imply fucking,” Shen says helpfully.

“You know, they had a betting pool on the two of us at one point,” he says, just for the joy of seeing all the color drain out of Shen’s face. Then multiple GSWs come sailing in from the ambulance bay and they’ve got to deal with that, and he hasn’t even put his bag down yet.

#the pitt fanfiction #the pitt fic #the pitt is a slapstick tragedy #seriously I have no idea what to title this #something real dumb obviously #pittfics by gus

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cherrrydragon · 10 months ago

Text

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING

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SUMMARY ↳ Not everybody takes time to appreciate the holidays, it seems. Damian’s brow furrows as he inspects your arm. “You were…” “Awesome?” “Reckless.” pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: nada wc: 3.2k

totally forgot to mention this last chapter, but this fic now has an official playlist!

It takes some convincing from Damian and Jon for them to let you go back to work. Jon says you shouldn’t be back so soon after getting shot. You tell him that your body is fine and ready to go, and also remind him that one of the first things you did when you were better was spar with the whole damn Batfamily. He looks properly sheepish after being chastised.

Damian says that you don’t need the job anymore, since you live with his family now. You tease him, asking if you technically classify as his sugar baby. He scoffs, turning away. It gets him off your case.

Sam damn near jumps over the counter to get to you when they see you walk in. “[Name]!”

At Sam’s shout, Carrie and Garrett pop their heads out from the back. Carrie’s face lights up, smile lines showing as she rushes over to join you and Sam’s hug. Garrett lets one of his rare smiles show, patting your head.

“You shouldn’t be back so soon,” frowns Carrie, pulling back.

You would lift up your shirt to show that you were fine, but she’s right, you shouldn’t be back so soon. A bullet wound on a normal person wouldn’t be completely healed just yet, but, you know, super healing. You’ve been left with a very faint scar. Jon spent his time tracing it, eyes hard and lidded. It gave you goosebumps when his fingers would pass over it.

You wave them off, laughing softly at their concern. "I'm fine, guys, really. It's good to be back."

Sam eyes you skeptically, arms crossed. "You better take it easy, though. We can handle things here."

Carrie nods in agreement, though she's smiling. "Just don't overdo it. We were worried sick about you."

Garrett gives you a nod of approval, his expression serious yet supportive. "Glad to see you're up and about, [Name]. Take care of yourself."

You promise them you will, appreciating their concern and warmth. Sam ushers you behind the counter, immediately putting you to (light) work, much to your amusement.

"So, spill," Sam insists, leaning in conspiratorially. "What happened?”

“What do you mean?” you ask as you organize some sugar packets.

“Dude, Robin and Superboy literally hauled your ass out of here.”

“They just took me to the hospital, Sam,” you sigh. “I got shot, it was pretty urgent.” Shoving a pastry in Sam's mouth, you push past them to ready the coffee makers. “In other news, I moved in with my future rich spouse.” It’s a way to distract them from questioning too much.

Predictably, Sam chokes on the bun. “What!? Hold on, back up a minute, when did you start dating somebody?”

“It was a joke, we’re just friends,” you chuckle. “He’s a huge worrywart and refused to let me go back to my apartment. Could barely walk out of the front door this morning. Said I didn’t even need this job anymore, basically said he’d take care of me.” He didn’t really, but whatever. “Isn’t he sweet?”

“So you’re telling me he basically said you can be the rich trophy partner? Why the hell are you here then?” Sam deadpans.

You match their expression. “Wow. Nice to know I was missed.”

Sam rolls their eyes. “You’re impossible. Who’s the guy anyway?”

“Damian Wayne.”

Sam blinks. Once. Twice. “Can you repeat that? I could’ve sworn you said Damian Wayne. Son of Bruce Wayne. Heir to Wayne Enterprises.”

You huff, placing a hand on your hip as their brain fumbles. “Dude, you bagged the big one. Holy shit, I didn’t know you could pull like that.”

“I told you, we’re just friends.”

“I thought he was, like, stuck up, or something. Cold ice prince type.”

You feel the need to defend Damian’s honor, even if Sam has no true ire towards him. “He’s nice. A good friend. He’s just… awkward.”

Sam takes time to look at you, a brow raised. You hope they're not doing that thing when they just look at you and know all of your secrets. Eventually they hum, dropping it.

“...You think you can ask his dad to pay my tuition–”

Tonight marks your first official patrol with the Batfamily. You're already suited up, crouched on the ledge of a rooftop with Damian. His cape billows in the wind. The city below is alive with lights and sounds, a symphony of Gotham’s nighttime pulse. You adjust your stance, feeling the adrenaline start to course through your veins. Damian is focused, his eyes scanning the streets for any sign of trouble.

"Keep your eyes sharp," Damian says, his voice a low murmur. "Gotham's quiet tonight, but that can change in an instant."

You nod, your own senses heightened, every sound amplified in the quiet of the rooftop. The tension in the air is palpable, a reminder of the city's ever-present dangers.

Damian glances at you, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "You ready for this?"

“Been ready, are you?” you challenge with a smile.

Suddenly, a voice speaks into your ear. It's Barbara. "We've got a situation near downtown. Reports of a robbery in progress."

Damian tenses, his eyes narrowing. "Let's move."

You both leap from the rooftop, descending into the city's shadows. The thrill of the chase ignites your senses as you navigate the rooftops with practiced ease. Damian is a blur of motion beside you, his movements precise and controlled.

Your arm muscles tense and release with every web swing. You take time to twirl and flip around Damian in an elegant dance as he swings with his grappling hook. The two of you move around each other in synchronized harmony.

As you near the location of the robbery, you spot the scene from above. A group of masked men are trying to break into a high-end jewelry store. The glass is shattered, and the alarm is blaring. Damian signals for you to flank them from opposite sides.

You land silently behind a dumpster, observing the thieves as they hurriedly shove jewelry into bags. Damian moves in from the other side, his presence a shadow in the night. You wait for his signal, your muscles coiled like springs.

With a sharp nod from Damian, you spring into action. You leap out, webbing one of the thugs to the ground before he even realizes what’s happening. Damian disarms another with a swift kick, his movements fluid and efficient.

The remaining thieves scramble, but they're no match for the two of you. You dart between them, your webbing and acrobatics keeping them off balance. Damian is a blur of motion, his strikes precise and powerful. Within moments, the robbers are subdued, webbed up and disarmed.

Damian steps back, catching his breath. "Nice work," he says, his tone grudgingly approving.

"Were you practicing those moves to impress me?” you ask cheekily.

“Why, were you watching me?”

“I just can’t take my eyes off of you,” you sigh dramatically.”

“Stop flirting, losers,” Stephanie teases on the comms.

Just as you're about to talk back, a low rumble echoes through the alley. The ground shakes slightly, and you exchange a wary glance with Damian. A nearby manhole cover bursts open, and a hulking figure emerges from the sewers. It's Killer Croc, his massive form towering over you both. What the hell.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Croc growls, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent.

You throw up your hands. “Come on man, I wanted an easy night.”

Croc advances with heavy footsteps, his massive claws glinting in the dim light. Guess he’s not in the mood for chit-chat. Croc chuckles, the sound sending a chill down your spine. "Think you can stop me, little bats?" His voice reverberates through the space, filling the space with menace.

“I am not a bat,” you mutter. “Only in spirit I guess." Killer Croc has a similar demeanor to that of Rhino, at least in terms of size. You’ve dealt with more than enough of them to be well equipped to deal with this situation.

You exchange a quick nod with Damian, silently communicating your plan. "Let's do this," he says, his voice low but determined.

Without hesitation, you both spring into action. Damian charges forward, engaging Croc head-on with a series of lightning-fast strikes and evasive maneuvers. Meanwhile, you use your agility and webs to dart around Croc, aiming to distract and disorient him.

Croc swings a massive fist, aiming for Damian, who narrowly dodges and counters with a precise kick to the knee. You take advantage of the opening, firing webbing at Croc's arms, aiming to restrict his movements. The webs hold momentarily before Croc tears through them with brute force. Boo.

"Keep him distracted!" Damian calls out, his voice cutting through the chaos.

You nod, focusing on keeping Croc off balance while Damian assesses the situation. With each move, you gauge Croc's reactions, looking for vulnerabilities to exploit. His strength is immense, and you start to hope this won’t take long. You’d like to get a decent rest tonight.

Damian maneuvers around Croc, striking with calculated precision. His training and experience shine through as he lands blows with pinpoint accuracy, each one aimed at weakening Croc's defenses. You watch in awe, both of Damian's skill and the sheer determination in his eyes.

As the fight wears on, Croc becomes more aggressive, his attacks growing wilder and more unpredictable. You dart in and out, using the environment to your advantage, hoping to find an opening. It's a dangerous dance, the alley echoing with the sounds of combat and the occasional growl from Croc.

Croc is getting overwhelmed, which means he’ll get desperate. His eyes keep darting to the window. He’s gonna try to escape, shit.

He shoves Damian to the side with his arm. For a split second, you want to make sure he’s alright, but you know he is. Trust that he is. You seize an opportunity to leap onto Croc's back as he charges out of the alley and onto the street. The sudden movement sends pedestrians scattering, and cars screech to a halt to avoid the monstrous figure rampaging through the city. You wrap his shoulders, providing you some extra distance from him as he tries to reach for you. He bucks and twists as he runs, trying to shake you off.

Croc flips up cars as he runs. Your claws dig into his shoulders as you steer him out of people's way the best you can, while simultaneously trying not to get thrown off. People scream and flee as cars swerve to avoid the chaos. With each passing moment, your muscles strain under the weight and movement of the monstrous villain.

“Should you be on vacation or something? It’s the holidays! Take a day off, Christ,” you grumble.

Croc chuckles dangerously. “Hang on tight, not-bat.”

It’s your only warning (aside from your senses screaming at you to get out of the way. Too bad you can’t) as Croc makes a superhuman leap, crashing straight through a window of Gotham Mall. Your suit protects you from the glass as it crashes down around you. Shoppers scream and scatter as the massive creature barrels through the aisles, sending displays and merchandise flying.

“Do you have any non-destructive hobbies?” you huff, dodging his grabby hands. Croc cuts a corner narrowly, slamming you slightly into a wall.

“Swimming. In the sewers.”

“Well, of course, where else?” Oh shit, there’s a baby in the way! You throw a web from each wrist, pulling yourself over to the stroller. You pick it up and narrowly move it out of Killer Croc’s way, putting it down next to the mother and quickly webbing yourself back onto Croc.

“Thank you!” the mother cries.

“You’re welcome!” is all you can say before your web pulls you back onto Croc. You curl your hand into a tight fist and hit him right in his head as you return. Croc staggers from the force of your punch, shaking his head as he attempts to regain his bearings. His momentum slows, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

“Spinnerette, report,” Bruce asserts in your ear.

“Uh, Killer Croc’s rampaging in Gotham Mall. Trying to minimize the damage,” you breathe, dodging another swipe from Croc.

The noise of glass shattering and displays being knocked over is deafening. You hear Damian's voice cut through the chaos over the comms, “I’m en route. Hang tight.”

You cling tighter to Croc, using your agility to stay out of his reach as he wreaks havoc through the mall. “Yeah, hanging tight is kind of the plan,” you mutter, half to yourself.

You web his face, causing him to growl in frustration. Croc has a thick hide as protection, so your fangs won’t be able to pierce him. Your venom is useless here, which sucks because it would’ve been really nice to have in this situation.

Okay, you’re on the third floor of the mall, since the bastard jumped real high. How can you trap him? His advantage is his strength, so you need to restrain him so that he can’t use it. The whirring of a grappling hook catches your attention. Looking behind you, you see Damian swinging over to you, surprisingly gaining speed.

You spray a web towards him, catching him by the chest. Damian grips it as you pull him towards you. He lands with ease on top of Croc’s back. Croc's roar of frustration reverberates through the mall as Damian joins you.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you quip.

"Thought you could use a hand," Damian replies, his eyes never leaving Croc.

You grab his hands and wrap them around the makeshift web reins you had attached to Croc. “She–” you tap the ring you gifted him you know is under his glove, “–will tell you what to do. Don’t let him hurt anybody.”

Damian tries to catch your hand as you swing away, but you’re too quick for him. You gain speed, swinging ahead and away from Croc. “Tell me where a big glass window I can crash through is, K.”

“Take a left here.”

You swerve to the left. You can hear the commotion behind you as Croc thrashes and roars, but you focus on finding an exit point.

“Straight ahead.”

There. A large window overlooking the city. You see other buildings sparking with lights. Bracing yourself, you send yourself hurling into it. The glass shatters as you crash through it, arms out in front of you to protect yourself. Screams of people fade away behind you as you fall into the air. You’re lucky, there’s an intersection below you.

You swing onto a nearby lightpost. “I need the biggest and stickiest web you got, K.” You launch off and aim your hands in the middle of the intersection.

“Certainly, but it won’t be big enough for Killer Croc,” she says as a good and proper spider web slinks out and attaches to nearby light posts and buildings. The spiral pattern doesn’t extend to the radius of the web. “You’ll need to spin the rest of the web yourself.”

Bouncing off the center of the web, you start spinning the web across the intersection. The web begins to take shape, forming a large, intricate net that spans the entire intersection. Civilians look up in awe at your work.

“Spinner!”

You look over as you hop across the web to see Nightwing grappling over. “Get the civvies out of here!”

He pauses, then nods. He swings down, quickly directing people away from the intersection to safety. He enforces power into his words, arms gesturing for them to go.

“Robin and Killer Croc are approaching.”

Using the web as momentum, you launch yourself and spray a web onto the ledge from which you jumped off. Climbing up, you stare down the large hallway of the mall. Croc is running straight towards you. He hasn’t thrown Damian off yet, so that’s good.

“Come on! I’m right here!”

“What are you doing–” hisses Damian in the comms.

Killer Croc growls, charging at you. His steps are thundering, echoing in the mall.

You brace yourself, waiting for the right moment. Croc lunges forward with a roar, his massive form barreling towards you. You time your move perfectly, leaping to the side just as Croc lunges out of the window space. You grip Damian’s cape, tugging him off of Croc as he begins to fall. The web bounces up and down as he lands in the center, trapped.

You pat Damian’s shoulder before jumping off the ledge after him. More webs spray from your wrist as you restrain Crocs arms to the web. You ignore his curses and yells as you struggles against your trap. It’s no use, the web holds firm.

“Holy cow,” whistles Dick, walking over. He reaches out to poke the web, but you snatch his hand away.

“Do that and we’d have to amputate you. It’s really sticky,” you frown solemnly. You’re joking of course.

Dick pulls his hand away, holding both of them up and a surrender gesture. “Okay, okay, I won't touch it,” Dick says with a grin, clearly amused. He looks around at the chaos in the mall, where people are cautiously peeking out from hiding places or rushing to leave.

“You know, you’ve certainly made a mess,” he comments, gesturing to the shattered glass and displaced merchandise around you.

“Actually, I think I’ve done worse.”

“Guess you’re fitting right in,” Dick remarks, his tone light but approving.

“Have I earned my rite of passage?” you smirk.

“Maybe if you can survive a month without causing a city-wide panic,” he teases, flashing you a grin.

Damian lands gracefully behind you, his cape billowing dramatically behind him. He surveys the scene with a critical eye, his expression serious and focused. You can tell he eyes Croc’s trapped form before he hurries over to you.

You hear the sirens of Gotham’s police force wail closer. “Always late to the party, it seems,” you hum, pursing your lips. You groan and flex your shoulder, still tingling from your little wall slam earlier.

“I’ll take it from here,” Dick reassures as the cop cars come to a stop near the scene. “You crazy kids go.”

Damian seems to have no qualms about that, since he grabs your hand and tugs you away. You let him drag you around, swinging with him as he grapples away. You swing through the night with Damian, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

Coming to a stop on a rooftop, Damian’s hand runs down your arm, squeezing gently. “Are you hurt?” he asks gently.

“A little bruised, but I’ll be okay.” Your arm tingles under his touch. You chalk it off as pain.

Damian’s brow furrows as he inspects your arm. “You were…”

“Awesome?”

“Reckless.”

You catch his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I knew what I was doing, birdie.” He sighs, a mixture of relief and frustration evident in his voice. “I know, I know,” you reply softly, bringing his hand to your lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “But I’m here, and I’m fine.”

He meets your gaze, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You handled yourself well back there.” The moment lingers between you, the adrenaline of the night’s events slowly fading into a quiet calm. Damian’s thumb strokes over your hand, a silent gesture of reassurance and gratitude.

Damian holds your hand tight as he guides you home.

The next day, Spinnerette is trending.

notes: short chapter because its really just a filler but next one is gonna pop off i PROMISe

also, i hope i captured killer croc correctly? have literally never watched or read anything with him in it so im SO sorry if he is nothing like how he is supposed to be

also i straight up yoinked this scene from Spider-Man: Miles Morales, just replaced rhino with croc.

#damian wayne x reader #dc x reader #jon kent x reader #robin x reader #superboy x reader

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withthecolorizedkennedys · 19 days ago

Note

i would kill for a jack & joe jr x reader smut at palm beach !! something to the tune of sibling rivalry ,,

What The Boys Will Do

synopsis: two kennedy brothers, a smoldering rivalry, and a girl who knows exactly how to stir the pot at palm beach. it’s all a game of who gets to win... until they realize they’re both playing for the same prize.

word count: 4.8k

pairing: john f. kennedy x reader, joe kennedy jr. x reader

rating: 18+; includes explicit sexual acts

author's note: for that one other anon who requested joe jr smut, this is for you as well!

December in Palm Beach meant nothing like the Christmases you'd known before. No snow, no biting wind, just the relentless Florida sun beating down on the Kennedy compound's whitewashed walls, turning everything golden. The Atlantic stretched beyond the garden wall, a glittering blue expanse that seemed to mock the very concept of winter.

You'd been staying with the Kennedys for nearly two weeks now. Ambassador Kennedy and his wife Rose had extended the invitation through your father—business connections, naturally—and you'd accepted with polite enthusiasm that masked your genuine curiosity. The Kennedys were American royalty, after all, and their sprawling Palm Beach estate was the stuff of newspaper photographs and whispered gossip.

What you hadn't counted on was the brothers.

Joe Jr. and Jack Kennedy were studies in contrast. Joe Jr., the eldest, carried himself with the easy confidence of a man who'd never questioned his place in the world. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a square jaw and clear eyes, he moved through rooms like he owned them, which, you supposed, he technically did. His laughter was loud, his opinions firm, his handshake crushing. The golden boy, groomed for greatness from birth.

Jack was... different. Leaner, sharper somehow, with eyes that seemed to catch everything. Where Joe Jr. commanded attention, Jack slipped into it sideways, with a wry comment or an observation that made everyone in earshot suddenly aware of his presence. He was quieter, but no less intense—just more selective about when to deploy his considerable charm.

And both of them watched you.

You first noticed it during tennis matches, when you'd catch Joe Jr.'s gaze lingering a beat too long on your legs as you reached for a backhand. Then at dinner, when Jack would pass you the salt before you'd asked, his fingers brushing yours with deliberate slowness. Small moments, easily dismissed individually, but collectively forming a pattern you couldn't ignore.

Neither brother spoke of it directly. Instead, their rivalry leaked out in a thousand tiny ways: Joe Jr. cutting Jack off mid-story to tell a better one; Jack needling his brother about some Harvard football game he'd fumbled; Joe Jr. casually mentioning his plans to enter politics while looking pointedly at his younger brother's thinner frame, still recovering from some illness.

And always, always, their eyes would flick to you afterward, gauging your reaction.

You weren't naive. You understood the game being played, and rather than shy away, you found yourself leaning into it. A laugh at Joe Jr.'s jokes that lasted a touch too long. Asking Jack to explain something political, your body angled toward his, eyes wide with manufactured fascination. Accepting Joe Jr.'s invitation to swim, then emerging from the water with your bathing suit clinging to every curve. Borrowing one of Jack's books, then returning it with comments that showed you'd actually read it, watching surprise and something hungrier flicker across his face.

It was intoxicating, this power. Dangerous, perhaps, but no more dangerous than the cocktails Ambassador Kennedy mixed himself each evening—strong enough to burn, sweet enough to make you forget the burn until morning.

Today had been particularly charged. A boat trip along the coast, all of you packed into the family's sleek vessel, salt spray and sunshine and too many bodies in too little space. Joe Jr. had insisted on teaching you to steer, his chest pressed against your back, hands covering yours on the wheel. Jack had watched from his seat at the stern, sunglasses hiding his eyes but not the tight set of his jaw.

Later, back at the house, Jack had cornered you in the library, ostensibly to show you a first edition of Fitzgerald, but really to stand close enough that you could smell his cologne and count the freckles across his nose.

Dinner had been unbearable—the brothers seated on either side of you, Rose Kennedy oblivious to the tension as she discussed Christmas arrangements, the younger Kennedy children squabbling over dessert. Joe Jr.'s knee pressed against yours under the table; Jack's foot hooked casually around your ankle.

Now, as evening settled over the compound and the family dispersed to their various entertainments, you found yourself needing air. Space to think. The beach called to you—empty, you hoped, and cool with the night breeze.

You slipped out through the garden gate, shoes dangling from your fingers, and made your way down to the shore. The sand was still warm from the day's heat, fine-grained between your toes. You walked until the house lights dimmed behind you, then settled on the sand, knees drawn up to your chest, watching the moonlight dance across the water.

"Thought I might find you here."

Joe Jr.'s voice startled you. He stood a few feet away, hands in the pockets of his linen trousers, jacket discarded, shirtsleeves rolled up to expose tanned forearms. In the moonlight, his features seemed harder, more defined.

"Did you follow me?" you asked, not moving to make room beside you.

He shrugged, a fluid motion that spoke of absolute confidence. "Maybe. Or maybe I just needed some air too." He settled beside you anyway, close enough that his arm brushed yours. "It's a madhouse in there. Mother's on about Christmas decorations, and Jack's being... Jack."

The way he said his brother's name carried a weight you couldn't quite decipher. Irritation? Jealousy? Both?

"What's that supposed to mean?" you asked, keeping your tone light.

Joe Jr. picked up a handful of sand, let it sift through his fingers. "You know exactly what it means. He's been following you around like a lost puppy for days. It's embarrassing."

"I hadn't noticed," you lied, watching his profile.

He turned to face you then, his expression skeptical. "Sure you haven't. Just like you haven't noticed me watching you either, right?"

Your heart kicked against your ribs. This was it—the thing neither brother had been willing to say out loud, suddenly made explicit in the darkness.

"Joe—"

"Don't," he cut you off. "Don't pretend you don't know what's happening here. Between us. Between you and Jack. All of it."

You swallowed hard. "And what is happening, exactly?"

His laugh was short, almost bitter. "You're playing with us. Both of us. And you're enjoying it."

The accusation should have shamed you. Instead, it sent a thrill down your spine, a rush of heat that had nothing to do with the lingering warmth of the day.

"I'm not playing anything," you said, but your voice betrayed you, coming out husky and low.

Joe Jr. shifted closer, his thigh pressing against yours now. "Liar," he said, but there was no anger in it—only a strange sort of admiration. "You've got us both twisted up, and you know it. The question is..." His hand found your waist, fingers splaying wide. "What are you going to do about it?"

You should have pulled away. Should have stood up, brushed the sand from your clothes, walked back to the house and the safety of other people. Instead, you turned toward him, close enough now that you could feel his breath on your face.

"What do you want me to do about it?" you whispered.

Something flashed in his eyes—triumph, maybe, or relief. "I want you to stop pretending you don't want me."

And then his mouth was on yours, hot and demanding, his hand sliding from your waist to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he devoured you. There was nothing gentle about the kiss—it was all teeth and tongue and barely restrained hunger, months of watching and wanting compressed into a single, explosive moment.

You gasped against his mouth, your hands finding his shoulders, fingers digging into the solid muscle there. He was so different from Jack—broader, harder, radiating a physical presence that seemed to overwhelm everything else. His kiss tasted like bourbon, and you found yourself responding with equal fervor, as if some dam had broken inside you.

He pulled back just enough to look at you. "Tell me to stop," he said, but his hands were already moving, one sliding up your thigh, bunching the fabric of your dress.

"Don't stop," you breathed, and something wild flashed across his face.

He pushed you back onto the sand, his body covering yours, mouth finding the sensitive spot just below your ear. "I've watched you with him," he murmured against your skin. "Seen the way you look at him. The way you laugh at his stupid jokes." His teeth grazed your neck, making you arch against him. "Is this what you want from him too?"

The question sent a jolt through you. "Joe," you gasped, not answering, not needing to.

His hand found the hem of your dress, pushed it up around your hips. The night air was cool against your suddenly exposed skin, but his palm was hot as it slid up your inner thigh.

"Say it," he demanded, fingers tracing the edge of your underwear. "Say you want me. Not him. Me."

You couldn't speak, could barely think with his weight pressing you into the sand, his touch so close to where you needed it. Instead, you pulled his face down to yours, kissing him with all the pent-up desire of the past weeks.

He groaned into your mouth, his fingers finally slipping past the barrier of silk to find you wet and ready. "Christ," he muttered, forehead pressed against yours. "You're soaked."

The crude observation should have embarrassed you. Instead, it only heightened your arousal, knowing how much he wanted this—wanted you. His fingers moved with expert precision, circling, dipping inside, drawing out your pleasure until you were writhing beneath him, sand sticking to your sweat-dampened skin.

"Joe, please," you gasped, not even sure what you were begging for.

He seemed to know, though. With swift, efficient movements, he unbuckled his belt, shoved his trousers down just enough to free himself. You caught only a glimpse in the moonlight—thick, straining against his palm as he stroked himself once, twice.

"Tell me," he said again, positioning himself between your thighs, the blunt head of his cock pressing against you. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you," you breathed, and it wasn't a lie, not in this moment with the ocean roaring in your ears and his body hot and hard above yours. "Please, Joe, I want you."

He pushed inside in one smooth thrust, filling you completely, drawing a cry from your lips that he silenced with his mouth. There was nothing gentle about the way he took you—his hips driving forward with a force that sent you sliding in the sand, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading you wider for him.

"Is this what you wanted?" he growled against your ear, punctuating each word with a thrust. "All those times you bent over in front of me? Wore those little dresses? This is what you were asking for, wasn't it?"

"Yes," you gasped, because it was easier than explaining the complicated truth—that you'd wanted both of them, differently but equally, in ways you couldn't even articulate to yourself.

He fucked you like he had something to prove, like he could erase any thought of Jack from your mind through sheer physical dominance. And for a while, it worked—your world narrowed to the sensation of him inside you, the weight of him above you, the sound of his labored breathing mixing with the crash of waves.

Your orgasm built quickly, almost violently, spurred by the rough friction and the forbidden thrill of being taken like this—outdoors, where anyone might see, by a man whose brother wanted you just as badly. When it hit, you cried out his name, your nails raking down his back, leaving marks you hoped would still be there tomorrow.

Joe Jr. followed soon after, his rhythm faltering, his face buried in your neck as he groaned his release. For a long moment, neither of you moved, just lay tangled together on the sand, catching your breath.

Finally, he rolled off you, tucking himself away, straightening his clothes with efficient movements. You did the same, pulling your dress down, running fingers through your sand-streaked hair.

"We should get back," he said, his voice oddly formal now, as if trying to recapture some sense of propriety after what you'd just done. "Before they notice we're both gone."

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. He offered his hand, pulled you to your feet, then brushed sand from your back with a touch that lingered just a moment too long.

The walk back to the house was silent, charged with unspoken questions. At the garden gate, he paused, turned to face you.

"This isn't over," he said, and you weren't sure if it was a promise or a warning.

Then he was gone, striding ahead of you toward the house, leaving you to follow in his wake, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure, your mind already spinning with the implications of what had just happened.

And what might happen next.

You avoided both Kennedy brothers the next day, pleading a headache and staying in your room until late afternoon. It wasn't entirely a lie—your head did ache, though more from the tangle of thoughts than any physical ailment.

What had happened with Joe Jr. on the beach felt like crossing a line that couldn't be uncrossed. The game you'd been playing had suddenly become very real, with consequences you weren't sure you were prepared to face.

And then there was Jack. The thought of him made your stomach twist with a complicated mix of guilt and anticipation. Did he know? Had Joe Jr. said something? The Kennedy brothers shared many things, but you doubted this would be one of them.

By evening, hunger and boredom drove you from your sanctuary. The house was quieter than usual—Ambassador Kennedy and Rose had taken the younger children to some Christmas event in town, and dinner had been an informal affair that you'd apparently missed entirely.

You wandered the halls, eventually finding yourself at the foot of the grand staircase. The second floor housed the family's private rooms, including your own guest suite at the far end of the corridor. You climbed slowly, trailing your fingers along the polished banister, lost in thought.

At the top of the stairs, you froze. Jack Kennedy leaned against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other, a book dangling from his fingers. He looked up as you reached the landing, his expression unreadable.

"There she is," he said. "We thought you might have caught the train back to New York without saying goodbye."

"Just feeling a bit under the weather," you said, suddenly aware of how close you were standing to him, of the narrow corridor stretching behind him toward your room.

He studied you, his gaze moving slowly over your face, down to your neck where you knew a faint mark from Joe Jr.'s mouth still lingered, despite your best efforts with makeup. "Better now, I hope?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice. There was something in his eyes—a knowing look that made your skin prickle with awareness.

"Good," he said, pushing off from the wall. "I was hoping to show you something. In the study."

The study was Ambassador Kennedy's domain, a wood-paneled room filled with leather-bound books and the lingering scent of cigars. Jack led you there with a hand hovering just above the small of your back, not quite touching but close enough that you could feel the heat of his palm through your dress.

"Your father won't mind?" you asked as Jack closed the door behind you.

He smiled, a quick flash of teeth. "Dad's not here. And what he doesn't know won't hurt him." He crossed to a cabinet, opened it to reveal a collection of crystal decanters. "Drink?"

You nodded, watching as he poured amber liquid into two tumblers. His movements were precise, economical—so different from Joe Jr.'s broader gestures. Where his brother commanded space, Jack seemed to navigate it with a dancer's awareness of exactly where his body began and ended.

He handed you a glass, his fingers brushing yours deliberately. "To feeling better," he said, raising his drink in a toast.

The whiskey burned pleasantly going down, warming you from the inside out. Jack watched you over the rim of his glass, his eyes never leaving your face.

"So," he said finally, setting his drink aside. "You and Joe had quite the evening last night."

Your heart stuttered. "I don't know what you mean."

His laugh was soft, almost kind. "Come on now. We both know that's not true." He moved closer, close enough that you had to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact. "He came back covered in sand. And you..." His finger traced the air just above the mark on your neck, not touching but making you acutely aware of its presence. "Well, let's just say the evidence is fairly compelling."

Heat flooded your face—embarrassment, yes, but also a strange, twisted excitement at being caught. At having both brothers' attention so completely focused on you.

"Jack, I—"

"You don't need to explain," he cut you off, taking the glass from your suddenly nerveless fingers and setting it aside. "I'm not angry. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"What do you mean?" Your voice came out barely above a whisper.

He smiled again, but this time there was something predatory in it. "I mean that my brother has always had a habit of taking what he wants without thinking about the consequences. Without considering whether what he's taking might be better off in someone else's hands." His own hands came up to frame your face, thumbs brushing your cheekbones with feather-light pressure. "My hands, for instance."

Your breath caught in your throat. This was what you'd been playing with, wasn't it? This rivalry, this tension. And now it was fully in the open, impossible to ignore or deny.

"Jack," you began, but he silenced you with a look.

"Let me ask you something," he said, his voice dropping lower. "Did he make you feel good? Really good? Or was he too busy proving a point to pay attention to what you needed?"

The question hit like a physical blow. Because while what had happened with Joe Jr. had been intense, overwhelming even, there had been a selfishness to it—a sense that your pleasure was secondary to his need to claim you.

Jack read your silence correctly. His smile widened, turned knowing. "That's what I thought." His hands slid from your face to your shoulders, down your arms to capture your wrists. "Let me show you the difference."

He backed you against the Ambassador's massive desk, his body caging yours without quite touching it. Unlike his brother's forceful approach, Jack's was measured, deliberate—a slow burn rather than a conflagration.

His mouth, when it finally met yours, was gentle at first, almost teasing. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, like he was savoring a fine wine rather than gulping it down. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, seeking permission rather than demanding entry.

You opened for him with a soft sigh, your hands coming up to rest on his chest. Through the fine fabric of his shirt, you could feel his heart beating, steady and strong. He deepened the kiss gradually, one hand sliding into your hair, angling your head to give him better access.

Where Joe Jr. had been all urgent heat and barely restrained power, Jack was precision and patience. He kissed you until your lips felt swollen, until your body was melting against his, until you were making small, needy sounds in the back of your throat.

Only then did his hands begin to wander, tracing the curve of your waist, the flare of your hip. He found the zipper of your dress, drew it down with agonizing slowness, his mouth never leaving yours.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured against your lips, echoing his brother's words from the night before, but with a different inflection—less a challenge than a genuine offer.

Your answer was the same. "Don't stop."

He smiled against your mouth, then stepped back just enough to help you out of your dress, letting it pool at your feet.

"Beautiful," he said simply, and somehow that single word affected you more deeply than all of Joe Jr.'s heated declarations.

Jack's hands skimmed over the silk of your slip, learning the contours of your body with careful attention. When they finally slipped beneath the hem, sliding up your thighs, you were already trembling with anticipation.

"Sit on the desk," he instructed, his voice low but firm.

You obeyed, perching on the edge of the massive oak surface. Jack stepped between your knees, spreading them wider with gentle pressure. Then, to your surprise, he sank to his knees before you.

"Jack, what—"

"Shh," he silenced you, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. "Let me show you what my brother should have done last night."

Your slip rucked up around your hips as he pushed it higher, exposing you completely to his gaze. Unlike the darkness of the beach, here in the warm lamplight of the study, you felt suddenly, acutely vulnerable.

Jack seemed to sense your discomfort. He looked up at you, his eyes serious now. "You are exquisite," he said. "Every inch of you. Let me worship you properly."

Before you could respond, his mouth was on you, his tongue tracing a path that made your head fall back, a gasp escaping your lips. Where Joe Jr. had been efficient but hurried in his attentions, Jack was thorough to the point of torture, alternating between broad strokes and focused circles, bringing you to the edge only to back away, building your pleasure in careful, deliberate increments.

Your hands found his hair, fingers tangling in the thick strands, urging him closer. He hummed against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open for his mouth, his tongue delving inside you before returning to the sensitive bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars.

"Jack, please," you begged, not even sure what you were asking for, only knowing that you needed more, needed release from the exquisite tension he was building.

He looked up at you, his mouth glistening. "Not yet," he said, and the command in his voice was all the more powerful for its softness. "Think about it. Think about how different this is. How much better."

And it was different—not necessarily better or worse, but a completely different experience. Where Joe Jr. had taken you with raw passion, Jack was dismantling you piece by piece, with surgical precision and devastating attention to detail.

When your orgasm finally hit, it was like nothing you'd ever experienced—a wave that seemed to go on and on, Jack's mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony to draw out every last tremor of pleasure until you were gasping his name, your body boneless and liquid.

He rose to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression one of pure masculine satisfaction. "Now," he said, unbuckling his belt with unhurried movements, "I'm going to fuck you on my father's desk, and you're going to remember every second of it."

The crude language, so at odds with his usual polish, sent another jolt of arousal through you. You watched, still dazed from your orgasm, as he freed himself from his trousers, stroking his length with the same deliberate pace he'd applied to pleasuring you.

He was different from Joe Jr. here too—not quite as thick, but longer, curved slightly in a way that promised to hit places his brother hadn't reached. Your mouth went dry at the sight of him, hard and ready.

"Turn around," he instructed, helping you off the desk. "Bend over."

You complied, bracing your hands on the polished wood surface. Jack moved behind you, his hands sliding up your sides, pushing your slip higher until it bunched around your waist. You felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against you, teasing your entrance.

"Ask me for it," he said, his voice tight with restraint. "Tell me what you want."

"You," you breathed, pushing back against him. "I want you, Jack. Please."

He entered you slowly, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to the stretch and burn of him. By the time he was fully seated, you were both panting, your forehead pressed against the cool wood of the desk.

"God, you feel incredible," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips. "So tight. So perfect."

He began to move, setting a rhythm that was neither as frantic as Joe Jr.'s nor as slow as you might have expected. Each thrust was calculated for maximum impact, angled to hit the spot inside you that made your vision blur.

"Is this what you wanted?" he asked, echoing his brother's words from the night before, but with a different inflection—curious rather than accusatory. "All those times you looked at me across the dinner table? When you borrowed my books and returned them with your scent on the pages?"

"Yes," you gasped, because it was true—you had wanted this, wanted him, from the moment you'd first seen him lounging by the pool, his lean body golden in the sunlight, his eyes following you with quiet intensity.

He reached around, his fingers finding the sensitive bud at the apex of your thighs, circling it in time with his thrusts. "And my brother?" he asked, his voice strained now. "Did you want him too?"

The question should have shocked you, but in the haze of pleasure, it only heightened your arousal—this acknowledgment of the triangle you'd been navigating. "Yes," you admitted, and felt him thrust harder in response.

"Both of us," he said, not a question now but a statement of fact. "You greedy thing."

His pace increased, his control slipping as his own pleasure built. You could feel another orgasm approaching, spurred by his fingers and the relentless drag of his cock inside you.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice rough now, his rhythm faltering. "Come for me while I'm inside you. Let me feel it."

Your body obeyed, clenching around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you for the second time. Jack groaned, his fingers digging into your hip as he followed you over the edge, his release hot inside you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, just stayed joined together, catching your breath. Then Jack pulled away carefully, helping you stand, turning you to face him. Jack took his time—straightening your slip, retrieving your dress from the floor, helping you back into it with gentle hands. He zipped you up, pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck, then turned you to face him again.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he said, but there was no judgment in his tone—only a kind of rueful admiration. "With both of us."

You met his gaze steadily. "I know."

He studied you for a moment, then nodded, as if confirming something to himself. "Well, then," he said, stepping back, "may the best man win."

Later that night, you stood before the mirror in your room, examining the evidence of the past two days—the faint mark on your neck from Joe Jr.'s mouth, the slight bruise on your hip from Jack's fingers. Your body felt pleasantly sore, used in the best possible way.

From downstairs came the sound of raised voices—Joe Jr. and Jack, their words indistinct but their tones unmistakable. Arguing, as they so often did, but with a new edge that you recognized all too well.

You smoothed your hands down the front of your dress, a small smile playing at the corners of your mouth. You could end this if you wanted to. Choose one brother over the other. Draw a line under the whole affair and return to New York with a scandalous memory to keep you warm through the winter.

But as you listened to their voices rise and fall, each trying to assert dominance over the other, you knew you wouldn't. Not yet, anyway.

#joe kennedy jr x reader #john f kennedy x reader #jfk x reader #jack kennedy x reader #joe kennedy jr #jfk #jack kennedy #john f kennedy #the kennedys #kennedyposting #kennedy #requests

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soapier · 8 months ago

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play stupid games, win stupid prizes, pt. 1

jschlatt x y/n

drunk girls night leads to more when you’re forced to carry out a dare.

you were at a girls night, nothing fancy, just some drinks and games to unwind after a long week.

music played softly from a speaker somewhere, and the room was filled with warmth from laughter and one-too-many drinks. what had started as an innocent game of blackjack had turned into some messed up version of truth or dare wherein every time someone surpasses 21 (or “busts”, as niki insists you call it), they have to answer a question or do something embarrassing.

you had thrown caution to the wind hours ago, after, say, the fifth glass of wine. or maybe it was the sixth? you couldn’t remember. these girls were your friends, and you in your drunken confidence had no qualms about answering any of their questions.

hell, last round you’d even admitted to having a thing for schlatt.

it’s not that you’re ashamed of it, no, but he had just been such a good friend for so long that it felt weird to admit. you felt a little weird about keeping it a secret for so long, having to hide blushes and act like certain things he did didn’t drive you absolutely crazy.

“y/n!” one of your friends called, “it’s your turn!”

you peeked again at your cards, a seven and an eight, fifteen. pausing for a moment, you weighed the options and called, “hit” for another card.

what you weren’t expecting, though, was to get a nine.

“ugh, bust!” you called, the second out for this round. your friends giggled and asked you to choose truth or dare.

“truth!” you replied, like you had each time you’d gotten out earlier.

“come on, y/n! live a little, choose dare!” niki goaded you.

with a sigh, you switched your choice and your friends huddled up to figure out what to make you do. in the meantime, you reached for the bottle and filled your glass once more, taking a long swig for good measure.

“so,” she started, a shit-eating grin on her face, “i dare you to text schlatt…” your heart dropped, are they being for real right now?

“what?!” you replied, suddenly very alert.

niki smiled and continued, “i dare you to text schlatt i want you so bad right now.” she put air quotes around the proposed text.

you shook your head violently, heart pounding in your chest, “no fucking way.”

“you’re so boring! worst case, tell him it was part of the game, i’ll back you up.” your friends looked at you with small grins and expectant eyes.

your heart was racing, thoughts zipping by even faster. you should’ve never told them about him, this was such a mistake, what if he never talks to you again?

but, you took a moment to calm yourself. she’s right, it is technically just part of a game, right? god, you are such a stick in the mud sometimes, maybe they’re right. it’ll be fun! silly, even. he’ll probably laugh about it tomorrow. schlatt might even be asleep by now, it’s 2:30 in the morning, after all.

with one last deep breath, you agreed. “fine. does anyone know where i left my phone?”

with squeals of excitement, your phone was passed over to you and you typed out the message, leaving your phone on the floor and demanding that someone, anyone else pressed send for you as you looked away, tense.

you:

i want u so bad rn

you exhaled in relief when you didn’t immediately see bubbles indicating that he was typing. just as you let your guard down, however, you heard the phone buzz, and your friends shrieking in excitement.

schlatt:

send me your location.

cradling your phone in your hands, you deliberated what to do… do you tell him? why does he want to know? what if he’s mad? but… what if he’s not mad?

with a sigh, you texted back, telling him that you were at niki’s, and asking why he wanted to know.

schlatt:

the uber’s on it’s way.

———

part 2?

#jschlatt #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #mcyt #chuckle sandwich #minecraft #x reader #prologue

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daysofyellowroses · 1 year ago

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steak

carmen berzatto x reader | 3.8k | tw: pregnancy, implied smut, general nonsense

“I need a favor.”

“A favor?”

“Yes. A favor.”

You were already beginning to regret asking, watching Carmy swivel in his chair and ponder the request. Or he was staring into space, it wasn't clear.

“Alright,” He nodded after a moment. “What is it?”

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. It would have been easier to ask him to murder someone than what you were about to.

“It turns out that I am responsible for making 30 cupcakes for this Saturday and I could use some guidance.”

“I see,” Carmy nodded, pointing the spoon in his hand at you. “and what else? Sandwiches, burgers, hot dogs, stop me when I get the right one.”

You let out a sigh.

“And..three trays of sandwiches. And mini quiches, egg rolls, a crudités platter and a cake.”

“Okay,” Carmy sat up a little, lightly tapping the spoon against his cheek. “Just..a couple of questions.”

You walked closer to the desk, leaning against it and giving Carmy a nod. “Fire away.”

“First, why are you responsible for all of that?”

“Because apparently I promised my best friend if she ever got pregnant I would plan the entire baby shower.”

“Uh-huh. Why?”

“Because I was very, very intoxicated at her bachelorette party.”

He smirked a little, and you rolled your eyes with a small smile.

“Noted. Second question,”

“Third,” You interjected, holding up three fingers. “Technically.”

“Third question, is there a theme to this party?”

“No, of course not,” You frowned, folding your arms. “Themes are for kid's birthday parties and epic novels.”

“Hm, I thought so.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It just doesn't seem very..you know,” Carmy set the spoon down in his lap before interlocking his hands. “cohesive, I guess.”

You rested your hand on the desk, lightly tapping your nails on the surface.

“I'm willing to ignore that remark if you help me.”

“Alright, fourth question..why do I have to help you?”

You thought about it for a moment, working out your best angle to get him on board.

“Well..because I love my best friend and I want to give her an amazing experience, it's basically free publicity for the new restaurant, and we're..you know,” You gestured between yourself and Carmy with a grin. “We're friends. We're close. We kissed that time.”

“Yeah, yeah we did,” Carmy nodded, looking down for a moment before looking up with a smile. “When we were like..six? I don't see what that has to do with me adding to my already hectic schedule.”

“I would just really appreciate your help, even just a little guidance,” You smiled, holding your hands up. “What is the point of having a world-class chef as a friend if he doesn't help you out occasionally..”

“I promise to think about it,” Carmy nodded, picking his spoon back up and pointing at you. “Can you cook anything more advanced than french toast?”

“Depends on your definition of advanced,” You shrugged, pushing off the desk. “I look forward to your decision, I know you'll make the right one.”

“Get out of here,” Carmy rolled his eyes with a small smile. “I'll text you.”

You were heading to the front door when you bumped into Richie, who was carrying a box he promptly dropped on the nearest plastic-covered surface when he saw you, wiping his hands.

“Hey. What brings you here?”

“Me?” You gestured to yourself as you walked closer to Richie. “I just..I thought it was time. To declare my undying love for you.”

“Hm,” Richie nodded, rubbing his jaw before stepping closer to you and touching your shoulder. “I gotta be honest, I thought you'd never do it. Vegas wedding?”

“Vegas wedding,” You nodded with a grin. “Bye fuck-face.”

“See you later darling.”

It was the following afternoon when you got a very simple text from Carmy, relief flooding you as you read it.

‘Fine. Address?’

Opening your front door and seeing Carmen Berzatto standing on the other side was something you hadn't experienced for a long time, but it was a welcome return.

“Come on in, everything is set up in the kitchen,” You smiled, holding the door open and frowning slightly as you saw a worn grocery store bag in Carmy's hand. “Did you bring stuff when I told you that you didn't need to?”

“Sure did,” Carmy nodded, gesturing to his shoes. “Off? On?”

“Whatever you're comfortable with,” You waved your hand, gesturing to the bag. “I got everything, you really didn't need to waste your money on..liquid potassium or whatever, the food is not going to be anything too complicated.”

Carmy raised a brow as he slipped off his shoes. “You do know I'm a chef, not a mad scientist, right?”

“Oh shut up,” You sighed as he laughed, leading him into the kitchen.

“The fuck is liquid potassium anyway?”

“Here we are,” You spun around to face Carmy, gesturing to your humble kitchen, the dining table covered in various ingredients, in no particular order. “I really appreciate your help, I know you're busy.”

“It's fine,” Carm nodded, walking over to the table and setting the bag on the floor before picking up things on the table and inspecting them. “I'm not uh..I'm not needed, today.”

“Well I need you,” You grinned, walking over to the table. “The plan is I prepare everything today, then tomorrow I just have to heat up, and serve.”

“Organized, I like it,” Carmy nodded, looking over to you. “Where exactly do I fit in all this?”

“You..are my assistant for the day. Executive assistant, really.”

You gestured to the bag on the floor. “Show me what you got.”

An hour later, your kitchen was a whole lot messier, but progress was going well. Carmy had the patience of a saint, calmly explaining how everything was done. You were surprised how quickly you were picking up what he taught you, usually you got halfway through a YouTube cooking tutorial and gave up, ordering takeout instead.

“Okay, what's next on the list?” You asked, sprinkling herbs onto the egg roll pastry before wiping your hands. “I still can't believe you made me write a fucking list.”

“You needed the list,” Carmy grinned, reaching for the slip of paper. “Trust me. Okay, once you've finished those we can..almost cross off all the savory, just crudités but that's pretty simple. I can show you how to make dips, if you want.”

“Thought you'd never ask,” You grinned, flicking a loose crumb of pastry at him. “the vegetables are in the..”

You looked up for a minute, trying to think.

“Bottom of the fridge,” Carmy supplied, gently touching your back as he passed you to get to the fridge. “got them.”

You rolled up the pastry under your hands, setting it aside with the other egg rolls that had been prepared.

“So how has it been, being back?” You asked, going to rinse your hands. “I feel like I never asked you properly.”

“It's..fine, yeah,” Carmy replied, his head in the fridge when you glanced over to him. “Hasn't changed, much, well..you know. Never thought I'd end up back here.”

“At least you got out,” You shrugged, drying your hands before moving back to the counter. “How was New York? Incredible?”

“Incredible,” Carmy repeated, coming back to join you and reaching for a bowl. “Hand me that cucumber, please?”

“I need to visit one day,” You sighed, reaching for the cucumber and handing it over. “It's like..it's just there, I can go anytime, but I don't..I will, though.”

“Mm,” Carmy nodded. “You can pour greek yogurt into a bowl if you want.”

“On it,” You smiled, going to get a bowl. “I feel like such a domestic goddess right now, I gotta say. I never really cook. Not like this.”

“Are you enjoying it?” Carmy asked, not looking up from cutting up the cucumber. “I know cutting up vegetables isn't exactly an adrenaline rush.”

“I am enjoying it,” You got a bowl and went to set it on the counter, standing by Carmy. “It's relaxing. I'm not thinking about anything except the next step. I don't have to worry about anything except what I add next.”

“Lemon,” Carmy gestured to the yellow fruit over on the table. “Worry over.”

You smiled as you spooned the yogurt into the bowl, glancing over to Carmy. “You wanna know a secret?”

“Is it..that you're actually a serial killer who kills your victims by liquid potassium poisoning?”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” You groaned, going to grab the lemons as Carmy laughed and shook his head.

“Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. What's this other secret?”

“No, I'm not telling you now,” You sighed, taking the lemons back to the counter. “If you're just gonna be an ass.”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Carm murmured softly, gently nudging you. “Please tell me.”

“It's a world exclusive secret,” You grinned, walking over to the table and picking up your bag from one of the chairs. “Only three people will now know..”

You reached into your bag, pulling out a clean white envelope.

“Time to see if we need to use the pink or blue food dye.”

“What do you mean?” Carmy looked over to you. “Like a..gender reveal? That's still a thing?”

“I know it's a little cheesy,” You shrugged, looking down at the envelope. “But my best friend is just really excited to have this baby, she wants to know everything she can. So she gave me this,” You held up the envelope. “And I get to whip up some frosting.”

“So, what's it gonna be?” Carmy asked as you walked back over.

“Let's see,” You opened the envelope slowly, feeling Carmy's eyes on you. “Ah..not what I expected.”

You handed the paper over to Carmy as you picked up a lemon. “There's gonna be a little kid running around that looks like her..crazy.”

“Nice, though,” Carmy shrugged, setting the paper aside. “You know, if you..if you're someone that wants that.”

“Mm,” You nodded, taking a knife to cut the lemon. “She has, for a long time. I was so excited for her when she told me. Then I went and agreed to do all this, because..”

“You were drunk?” Carmy supplied.

“Yes, that,” You laughed, shaking your head. “It's not going that bad though, right? Everything is under control.”

“True, but uh..” You looked up as you felt Carmy's hand on your arm, looking down and finding yourself staring at his tattoos.

“You might want to cut the lemons, not your fingers.”

“What? Shit,” You frowned as you looked back to your hands, a trickle of blood appearing. “Spoke too soon.”

“It's okay,” Carmy led you to the sink. “just wash it off, have you got band-aids?”

“Uh..yeah, I think so,” You nodded, running the water. “in the bathroom cabinet.”

“Okay, wait here.”

A few minutes later you were leaning against the counter watching Carmy apply a band-aid to your finger with the precision of a surgeon.

“I can't remember the last time someone put a band-aid on me,” You murmured softly. “Thanks.”

“Don't mention it,” Carm looked up, his hand still holding yours. “I'm an expert at it.”

“So I see,” You smiled, inspecting your finger. “Excellent work. I'll be sure and recommend you.”

“I might need the extra work,” He sighed. “We're getting close to the deadline and it just feels like we're not progressing.”

“Hey,” You gently squeezed his hand. “Stressing out won't change anything except to make everything harder. Just keep going, do what you need to do, and then on the tiny, tiny, chance it doesn't work out you have a career lined up as a professional band-aider. You can patch up my victims.”

Carmy was quiet for a moment before he laughed, really laughed, and you felt a weight slip off your shoulders.

After a moment a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, your eyes held on each other.

“I‐”

“I should actually be going,” Carmy spoke before you could finish. “I just remembered I need to call this guy about the..”

“Okay,” You nodded, clearing your throat. “I can..I can handle the rest. Don't let me keep you if you're in a rush.”

You could see the guilt in Carm’s eyes, choosing to look away.

“I'm sorry to leave you in the middle of all this.”

“Don't be sorry,” You shrugged, looking down to your bandaged finger. “It's my responsibility, I got it. Thank you for your help.”

Carmen gave you a nod and you mustered up a smile in return, watching him leave.

A couple of hours later, the sun had set and your kitchen lights were bright as you flicked some cupcake batter off your fingers. When you heard a knock at the door you looked up, pausing for a minute before grabbing a cloth to wipe your hands.

“Coming, hang on.” You called, setting the cloth aside and heading to the door.

It wasn't a total surprise to see Carmen on the other side.

“Hey,” He said after a moment. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” You stood aside, holding the door open. “Come on in.”

You watched him as he took a deep breath, hand clutching the zip of his jacket.

“So, about earlier, I-”

“I know,” You smiled, holding up your hand. “It was a lot. It was fun, and..domestic, and kind of intense, and that's a lot. I get it.”

“Yeah,” Carmy breathed, nodding sofly. “But..I'd still like to help you out, if you'll let me.”

“Then get your shoes off and get in the kitchen,” You smiled. “I'm just starting the cupcakes. Assistance is definitely needed.”

Half an hour and a lot of batter later, the cupcakes were in the oven, and the daunting prospect of the cake stood in front of you.

“Do I really need to make a cake and cupcake?” You mused, looking at the messy counter. “It feels excessive.”

“You're making the cake,” Carm nudged you gently. “Show me what you've learned.”

“Prepare to be amazed,” You grinned. “For better or worse.”

You cleared some space on the counter and glanced over to Carmy for a moment with a raised brow. “Hold still, you got batter in your hair.”

You gently moved your hand to carefully remove the fleck of batter.

“Would I be out of line to suggest you might be overdue for a haircut?”

Carmy laughed softly and shook his head, ruffling his messy curls.

“It's on a list, somewhere. I'll get round to it eventually.”

“I could do it,” You suggested, looking back to the counter and taking a clean bowl. “I know my way around a pair of scissors.”

“Really?”

“Really really,” You nodded, reaching for the flour. “you help me with this cake, I'll make you look like a new man.”

“Deal.”

Once the cupcakes were out of the oven and the cake was in, you sent Carmy off to wash his hair in your shower, leaning against the counter when he was gone and taking a deep breath. You reached for the note that your best friend had given you, smiling as you read over it.

When Carm came back into the kitchen, you felt your heart race a little. He was dressed the same of course but his damp hair was slicked back, and he had a warm, clean scent that still had a musk to it that was really doing it for you.

“The cake will be a while, I checked,” You smiled. “Skewered it like a pro. Take a seat, let's get you fixed up.”

“Are you going to skewer me?” Carmy asked, raising a brow as he sat on the chair you'd moved up by the counter. “I'm a little intrigued.”

“You'll see,” You grinned, picking up the blue towel you'd grabbed when Carmy was in the shower. “Be on your best behavior just in case.”

“Yes ma'am.”

“Alright,” You draped the towel around Carmy's shoulders, adjusting it a little before picking up the scissors and a comb. “Let's see what we can do. Head down, please.”

“About earlier,” Carmy began, and you felt a knot twist in your stomach. “I..I just want to apologize, I shouldn't have just left like that.”

“It's okay,” You murmured softly, gently combing his hair and holding the ends between your fingers. “Like I said, I get it.”

“No, it's..it's complicated,” Carmy sighed. “Because..I don't want you to think that I didn't enjoy being domestic and having fun with you, because I did, and I think you're great, I really..I really like you and it just freaked me the fuck out a little.”

“Like when we were six,” You smiled softly, gently snipping his hair. “And I kissed you. You freaked out and left me alone in that treehouse. I was devastated.”

“Hey I didn't expect it,” Carm shrugged. “You didn't give me a heads up.”

“I'm giving you one now,” You grinned, lightly tapping his head with the comb. “Head up, please.”

“Why did you do it?” Carm asked, soft curiosity in his voice.”I mean, why did you..why me?”

“You weren't like the other boys in our class,” You shrugged, gently sweeping the comb through Carmy's hair. “And you weren't like Richie or your brother. You were just..Carmy. I always thought about you. I liked that you were doing your own thing. Tilt your head sideways, please..thanks.”

He stayed quiet while you cut his hair so you kept talking.

“I don't think I really had a crush on you or anything back then, I just liked you. Then as we got older I started seeing you differently but I never acted on it because I didn't think you were interested. We never really hung out much, for all I knew you were a major dick. Then,you were gone and I tried to forget you..head down, please.”

“What do you think now?”

You thought about it for a moment, holding the comb in Carmy's hair.

“I think..you've actually got really great hair.”

“That so?”

“Oh yeah,” You nodded. “I mean usually it looks like a bird should be nesting in it so anything is an improvement.”

He laughed slightly and you felt your shoulders drop a little.

“I also think,” You murmured softly, slowly closing the scissors on the ends of his hair. “Those tattoos on your hands are really doing it for me.”

“Yeah?

“Big time.”

A silence hung over you as you continued the haircut, trying to keep your hands steady.

“Just because I freaked out doesn't mean that I don't..that I haven't been thinking about you.”

“Yeah?” You mused, lightly brushing some hair off the towel.

“Big time. But..” Carmy let out a sigh, clearing his throat. “I'm really not..an expert at the whole relationship thing. I'm not even a novice, I'm like..a nightmare. I can't do the flowers and dates and meeting the parents and all that like..I know I should want all that and maybe I do but..something just stops me and I can't..I can't do it.”

You slowly walked around to stand in front of Carmy, meeting his eyes as you glanced down.

“Head up, please.”

You focused your attention on his hair, feeling the nervous energy radiating from him.

“First of all, you know my parents. So that's not relevant. Second of all..I'm not saying that I want a relationship because I don't even know if I do. But..I wouldn't mind having someone I hang out with, watching movies and talking shit and eating takeout and figuring out if we want to be more but it's okay because we're still good how we are. And I could see you being that person.”

You took a step back, tilting your head slightly.

“All done.”

“Good,” Carmy nodded, standing up and stepping closer to you, his hands reaching out to touch your face and leaning in close til you felt like you couldn't breathe. “You can check the cake.”

You let out a frustrated sigh before laughing and moving your hands to grip the towel around Carmy's shoulders.

“You're definitely a major dick.”

You pulled him in for a kiss, feeling a rush shoot through you. When you pulled back you thought your heart was on fire.

“Wow, you've really improved,” You grinned. “I'm impressed.”

“You don't know the half of it.” Carmy grinned, pulling you back in for another kiss.

He wasn't lying, as you discovered when he put you up on the counter and feasted on you til you cried.

You had wasted no time, pulling him right down onto the kitchen floor to show what you'd learned too.

The next day, when you watched your best friend cut into the cake and scream with joy as layers of pink and blue sponge were revealed, you made a silent vow to volunteer your services more often.

#the bear #the bear fic #the bear 🐻#the bear fics #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you

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timeslipcamp · 25 days ago

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me?? look up flower symbolism for a mobile game??? it's more likely than you think!!

spoilers through ep 15

🌸💐🌼🌸💐🌼🌸💐🌼🌸💐🌼🌸💐🌼🌸

first of all trying to find all these was insane SECOND of all tumblr only lets me add 10 pictures per post on mobile so this WILL get split up into multiple posts. thats on me for always writing these at work lol

a couple of the flowers as well i'm doing my best guess. either the shape or the color is slightly off (it's artwork and flowers) so i've been finding what i think is closest. additionally, i do prefer to be as educational and historically accurate as possible in the references i'm finding, but flower languages are something that tended to vary across culture, time period, and region. oftentimes the major messages and themes carried over, but the interpretation wasn't always the same. i did my best to cross reference at least a couple sources for each one and i'll be going with the main meaning i find for each.

do i think all of these are intentional? probably not, but it's fun anyways.

if anyone has any questions or other interpretations, please send them my way!

flower meanings for the ghouls

first up we've got the most recent one that came out in subaru's super cool fit from episode 15. like i said in my time loop theory post, i do believe this is actually technically a red surprise lily, not a spider lily. however, the two are considered sister flowers, and i put them side by side below so you can see.

as far as i can tell, both of them have the same meaning, and are often used interchangably when describing the flowers. just about every place cites the japanese meaning: they both bloom in autumn, around the same time as both the autumnal equinox and a period called ohigan. during ohigan, it's an important time to visit graves and pay respects to ancestors. spider lillies are poisonous, and in ancient times, were planted over fresh corpses to keep animals from digging them up. ever since then, they've become one of the most easily recognized and symbolic flowers with several meanings and names.

the most common meanings are death, reincarnation, the after life, and its two names, "the death flower" and "the corpse flower". hotarubi has dealt with ghosts and the restless dead in both episodes they've featured in, not to mention episode 15 took place in a haunted house where we were pretending to be ghosts. i think this one is pretty simple.

helloooooooo beautiful sunny haru! we've got quite a few flowers here. i've got sunflowers, daisies, orange roses, thistle, pansies in the background there, anemone, and then i think that's supposed to be baby's breath but the clumping and petal shape look almost like butterfly bush. could be sweet alyssum as well. idk i just work here

sunflowers - did you know sunflowers were originally cultivated as a food source? there's your fun fact for the day! these flowers also vary in meaning across different cultures but all of them have a positive connotation. sunflowers stand for hope, happiness, and also good luck!

daisy - is that a daisy. the petals are fat and now i'm second guessing myself. oh apparently theres one called a wide petal daisy lmao anyways! if it is a daisy, once again a very positive flower, most meanings list innocence and new beginnings. victorian flower language says a daisy means a secret is safe with you. interesting :)

orange roses - theres always 900 interpretations of roses smh. from what i've gathered, outside of a relationship they mean fascination, perseverance, and admiration. new beginnings make an appearance again. inside a relationship it typically means passion and energy, along with enthusiasm. all things that are very haru

thistle - cute lil tucked away in his pocket. this one's pretty interesting because the meanings amost flip depending on where you're from. thistle represents adaptation, pride, and resilience, but in victorian flower language specifically, it represented pain and intrusion. honestly, i think both fit.

anemone - three out of four of his flowers have greek myths associated with them. what the hell, man. anyways. this one changes wildly depending on the culture. one has them listed as anticipation, one as tragic love, and apparently, this one is also a flower of the dead OR it will protect you from evil. if i had to guess, i think the anticipation one fits most, because it has it listed here that you give them during major life changes.

pansies - this one kind of went back and forth and i didn't feel confident in any of the sources, but the most common one i found was that they're to give to someone to let them know that you're thinking of them. interesting that these are placed in the background.

baby's breath - still not 100% that's what this is. whatever. baby's breath is another one that symbolizes purity and innocence. if anything, i think these ones symbolizing innocence just kind of apply to haru's optimism--he has such a pure view of wanting to help anomalies and humans live together. it's so sweet.

overall, i'd say the main theme of harry's flowers are optimistic, purity, life changes, energy, and resilience. love the way daisy applies to him.

i wasn't going to include this one but this picture is pissing me the fuck off and i think it's because this isn't a real flower. i've been googling for 45 minutes because clearly that's a yellow rose, right? wrong roses dont grow in on woody leafless stems like that. you know what does? kerria! you know what kerria is often confused with? japanese rose bushes! i think someone fucked up and pissed off a very specific subset of nerd (aka me and like, one other person)

hoping i'm wrong. someone PLEASE tell me what this is if you figure it out

anyways

yellow rose - literally so different depending on the region and even the time. in modern americas/england, they're for friendship, but in victorian flower language, it was infidelity. in latin america they represent deep, passionate love, but in china and modern japanese culture, it's for wealth, prosperity and life changes. in historical japan, they represented the imperial family.

so literally who knows pick your fav this one doesn't count.

the man the myth the legend!! love this dude

we've got purple roses (and some blue and yellow but that might be for aesthetic reasons), yellow iris, i think that's supposed to be a purple dahlia in his pocket? but the size is off, perhaps more thistle? whatever. a couple white calla lillies, a couple lil yellow and greenery that's also filler, and i think white delphinium.

yellow roses and thistle meanings listed above

purple roses - this one was funny. the synonyms kinda changed depending on the source but for the most part they represent love at first sight, enchantment, and mystery. one website said they meant "a love that is unattainable." :')

blue roses - less info available, but also mystery and the unattainable.

yellow iris - across the board, they represent passion, but it does also look like it can mean both platonically and romantically. one super obscure website also said it's a gender non conforming flower. nonbinary zenji lives

purple dahlia - several sources cited this one as meaning dignity, grace, kindness, and a couple others also had creativity in their lists. there were also some that had mystery! a very zenji flower, even if i'm incorrect about this one lmao

white calla lily - another innocence and purity one. however, they've also come to be associated with death and rebirth with their use in easter celebrations. iiiiinteresting

white delphinium - i've spelled that name wrong like six times so far if you see a typo no you didn't. this one seemed to have a different meaning on every place i looked, but there were a couple common threads: levity, protection, innocence, and remembrance. zenji's card bouta make me cry.

if we're looking at the placements at all, i love that he's handing you the enchantment and love at first sight flower. ugh zenji you deserve the world

followed IMMEDIATELY by his brother lmao. these two drive me INSANE dude i am always thinking about their relationship

in the back bouquet that he's holding we've got some pink and peach roses (and one hidden red one???), a couple random ones i can't made out, and in the foreground a BUNCH of

hey wait hold on

its called WHAT???

huh?????????

zenji hello???????

okay anyways back to jiro

up in the forefront he's got a bunch of dame's rocket, i guess? also called sweet rocket and eve weed, it's the closest i could find. yet another flower that has a greek tale associated with it, which i think the greeks just made up stories about every flower smh but it's named after hesperus (the morning star).

apparently it's only real symbolism meaning is deceit, which is wild given how much of this flower is on this card. also, jiro doesn't remember parts of last year. guess he could be lying!!!

pink roses - admiration and love, but a few sources did make a point to say the pink is a more gentle and understated love. very jiro. also love that there's a single red rose poking out there

peach roses - sincerity and gratitude.....ok. ok hold on. tin hat donned. jiro is holding flowers that mean sincerity but there are a ton of deceit flowers behind him. he's trying to be sincere but something is holding him back? who's to say

anyways that's all the pictures that tumblr will let me add on mobile so this is part one done, onto part two!

dms and asks always open 🌻

#flower meanings #tkdb #tokyo debunker #tdb #theories #this one got away from me #but hey whats a theory blog without some reaching

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deleteddewewted · 8 months ago

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Spicey Fatgum/Taishiro Toyomitsu fic ^°^)c god speed and I hope you have a good day!

Unvirgining Fatgum

A/n: Something very horny mixed in with feelings cause i love this character so much.

MDNI

W: Rookie Hero! Fatgum, Virgin! Fatgum, Gn! Reader, S/D themes, Hickeys, Biting, Cum Eating, Creampie, Snowballing

Taishiro prided himself in that he was a good person, maybe not the best, but he was a good person. He wasn't the top of his class nor was he anything impressive when it came to merchandising himself but he did know how to talk. He was friendly and he made sure to always put on his best smile for the public. It was useful to him, being nice meant people trusted him but it also brought on doubts about his ability to be a hero. He was still fresh faced and at 20 it meant that he was nothing but a Rookie when it came to heroics. He was still discovering everything he could do when it came to quirk too so he was truly a novice when it came to all of this.

He wished he could be higher up the ranks since it came with more opportunity and money, he was getting tired of eating microwaved meals and ramen. So when he got the chance to work alongside a more popular Pro, he took it.

He met you outside the police station while you were talking to Tsukauchi. You were a few years older him, a hero he had watched rise to a greater rank while he was still in school. He liked your style, the way you carried yourself in public. You set boundaries easily with people and didn't entertain the press to much. You were also a victim of his attraction. He liked you a lot. He often found himself fantasizing about you while he was attempting to complete reports. He remembered the first time you had met, you had waved at him and told him he was cute after he had asked you a question that had him blushing.

When he had privacy in his apartment he also found himself thinking of you as he took care of himself with the use of his hand or a pocket pussy. Your body, your voice, everything about you was perfection. Your features suit you perfectly and he couldn't help himself. He wondered if you would be gentle with him, if you'd take care of him when you guys have sex for the first time.

Working with you drove him up the wall but him getting the chance to go out drinking with you made the feelings he felt worse. He was 2 drinks deep and he already wasn't acting like his usual self. He couldn't help but watch you and perve on you. His usual subtle glances were now obvious and sluggish. He's sure that at some point he ended up licking his lips when you bent over cause you dropped something. He couldn't stop himself from lusting over you and he felt a little gross cause you were technically his superior. You had more experience, you where a few years older, you were more mature about things like this.

He thinks that's why he happily agreed to go home with you. He paid both of your tabs and you drove him home just how you had driven him to the bar. The moment the two of you made it into your apartment, you were both on each other. You took off his clothes, his uniform, and made sure to get him on his back on your bed. His mask was taken off and thrown somewhere on the floor all while you stripped sitting on his lap. You kissed, touched him, left hickeys on his neck, and had him moaning into your mouth and into the room. You had him cumming into your palm, shaking like a leaf as he held onto you looking for an anchor.

Taishiro's body felt like jello and he was sure that whatever little fat he still had left in him had melted away. When you gave him a break, he laid on your bed taking in what just happened. He loved it. Loved all of it. Your mouth and teeth on his skin, the scent of you and him mixed in the air. He liked laying in your sheets, red-faced and sweaty as you cooed at him asking if he wanted a drink or if he wanted to do it again.

He wanted more, to taste you, to fuck you, to have you call his name. And he did. You were filled to the brim with him, his dick pounding into you as he babbled on about how you were everything he wanted. You were his first. He was happy you were his first. He mentioned wanting to be yours to have you be his.

"This position isn't enough." He flipped you over, your face into the mattress that was damp with sweat and cum and buried himself deeper. You couldn't stop yourself from going crossed-eyed and screaming his name out like a prayer. He couldn't stop himself from cumming again, and again, inside you. The more he trusted the more cum came out and coated his dick and your ass and legs. The more he fucked into you the more he lost himself in the feeling.

By the end, he begged you to let him eat you. He needed to taste you and him, wanted to see if he tasted better in you. He relished in the taste of your skin, your sex, your body, his seed and your own release. He drank from you and made it his mission to stuff you full with his tongue next.

#fatgum x reader #fatgum x y/n #fatgum x gn! reader #dd speaks #mha #bnha #my hero academia #fatgum #taishiro toyomitsu #taishiro x reader #amab reader #afab reader

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kooksbunnnn · 1 year ago

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Lost cause? 4: Can my happiness ever last?

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook× Female!Reader

Genre: Established relationship/ marriage, angst, heartbreak, makeout and kissing mentions, INFIDELITY. Panic attacks (TRIGGER WARNING). Pregnancy (do not read if this content triggers you) also, 18+, This is purely a work of FICTION please take it as FICTION only. Therapy and psychological conversations. Tears, guilt, regret and hope maybe?

Word counts: 10.1k approx

Summary: You always wondered, how would your life turn out to be if you and Jungkook had a baby? So, when you finally conceive and decide to tell your husband that you are pregnant, you didn't expect him to drop this bomb on you. You never would've thought that the surprise you planned would end up in agonized tears because of the shock your husband brings you.

Authors note: Hello, my lovely readers, or should I call you all my bunnnnys? It sounds cute to me hehe, its a cute little name for my kooksbunnnn family, the readers who wait for me, love me, and read the stories I write. Thank you for waiting so patiently, ily guys. Here's chapter 4, I got a little carried away with words, hence the 10k 👉👈 sorry for the long wait once again, enjoy the chapter now. Bye-bye!

Previous chapter

___________________________________________

Seriously breathe louder Ross

You giggle watching an Instagram reel of a scene from friends where a pregnant Rachel snaps at Ross, who was just standing as you put another grape into your mouth from the container Jungkook packed for you with washed grapes.

As you scroll through the comments on the mentioned reel, you can't help but read some of the comments,

Comment: Rachel has such pretty hair.

True. You always wanted to try her hairstyles.

Comment: people should appreciate how the writers gave every female character a different kind of motherhood and different experiences, and it’s beautiful how they portrayed every feeling. Also, I can't imagine how one of them had a miscarriage in real.

Miscarriage. This word itself makes your body shiver with fear, and you immediately feel your throat get heavy. You shake your head at this and scroll further, not wanting to cry for the 6th time on the same day.

Comment: Being pregnant is a magical experience, sure, but it's a whole ass rollercoaster of emotions, and you won't be ready for the amount of mood swings that come with it.

Yea, No shit.

Comment: I love how Rachel had a character development nobody ever expected.

Mhm. True.

Comment: Can’t believe how they ended up together even after Ross cheated on her.

That got personal, guess it was time to delete Instagram.

Month 6 and a half, day 188 since that night and you’re surprisingly alive. The night your heart got broken and you didn't think you would make it through 2 months of life.

More like, you didn't think you could make it alone, without Jungkook. Technically? Yes, you couldn't live without seeing him or hearing him for the start of your pregnancy and now he is always around you.

Always around. Helping you sit, eat, drink, lie, puke, pee, and all this while being at his respectable distance from you.

“Cut yourself some slack, you're growing someone inside you. It's okay to be dependent while you're going through so much..” that's what your mom said when you asked her about your future and if it was a mistake going through with this.

Looking back to her advice from weeks ago you feel like you are being a little hard on yourself. Therapy. Sonograms. Lamaze classes, doctor appointments, morning-afternoon-evening sickness, hormones, mood swings, and whatnot. You feel excited for your baby to come into the world but would it be wrong if you said you were scared?

When you asked these questions to the people around you these were the answers:

Mom: “Yes honey, of course, it’s okay to be scared. Your life will change, and sometimes you feel like you won't know what you’re doing, but trust me having kids is a tiring but very beautiful experience.”

Dad: “Sweetie, it's completely normal. Your mom used to freak out a lot as well when she had you. We’re here for you, it's all gonna be okay.

Namjoon’s wife, Binna: “I have seen my sister go through it and I am gonna be honest, it is difficult and the delivery is gonna be tough but the results make it all worth it. I am so excited to start my family one day, too!”

Jin’s wife: “It's a little nerve-wracking, to be honest, but it's the best thing Y/N, trust me I have never cried harder than when I saw that my test results were not accurate, I was heartbroken. Trust me, this is the best thing that would happen to you.”

Namjoon, Jin, and Jimin in different words but similar contexts: “I don't know much about how you're feeling right now so I can't say I understand but trust me, I’ll be by your side and our dumb little brother’s side always. We’re a family, Y/N.”

Hobi and Taehyung came together while you and Jungkook were having dinner: We have seen our sisters and relatives go through pregnancy, and it honestly looks so overwhelming. We respect women more every day. We’re here always, just one call away.” They had said with smiles on their faces.

Yoongi: “I am not good with words or comforting people, Y/N, but I just wanna assure you that I am always here. All of us will be there for you both. It's not gonna be easy for you, mentally or body-wise, but never feel alone. You’re our family and always will be, no matter what.” He said, patting you like you were a kid while Jungkook sniffled sitting by your side in your sitting area.

The most common advice everyone gave was: Be easy with yourself, mentally, emotionally, and physically. You’re going through a lot.

And it was true. You and Jungkook have been working on your relationship’s progress ever since your first session, and somehow it was going pretty well. You had dinner together and he made sure he attended the sonography sessions and therapy sessions with you.

You had regular sessions together and Ms. Shin recommended you both try talking about the future ahead. No definite planning, just talking about the options.

Wall paints, cradles, toys, shopping, diaper brands, baby food, everything you could see in the future around your baby. Since the biggest reason for fixing your relationship was because of your baby, you needed to familiarize yourself sitting around talking about the little person gluing you both together.

So you both decided to have dinner together daily and decided to make a pre-baby diary while eating. Yes, it was Jungkook’s idea. It's been 8 days since the last therapy session and you have already listed the paint options for the baby’s room, went maternity clothes shopping with your husband and browsed some cradle options.

All was well, right?

On the outside, yes. In your ovaries? No.

The lingering attraction you so badly tried to avoid for the past week is still lingering in the air around you. You roll your eyes as you feel embarrassment creep up your neck at how dumb you have been behaving around your husband.

You feel emotional, horny and everything at once. Absolutely mental.

♡♡♡

“I don't think I am normal anymore.”

The therapist watches you utter the sentence with a manic like chuckle. She must be thinking you're insane. You notice how her hand freezes for a mini second and then continues to pass you the glass filled with water.

“My question, however, Mrs Jeon, was how did your weekend shopping go, but you can still go on. Why would you think such a thought?” Your therapist calmly asks you after waiting for your response to her earlier question for a good minute.

You finally take the glass of water in her hand stretched towards you after muttering a low ‘thankyou’.

After what happened with you and Jungkook and his damn damp hair, you were freaking out. One moment you were feeling like you could cry out of embarrassment but the next moment you wanted to make out with him in the kitchen while he wore his white dress shirt and those grey joggers you always loved.

Okay. You know this is weird, hence the embarrassment. Duh?! Earlier you weren't able to control the urges you felt, the mood swings, the craving, and now?! This fucking arousal.

You made an appointment with your doctor as soon as you woke up the following morning, hoping she would prescribe some pills or any kind of medications to reduce the arousal you felt but it didn’t help you much because there was no way of completely avoiding that.

The doctor didn’t suggest you take the pills that might’ve helped you because you already had a lot of mood swings and anxiety episodes, those pills could’ve worsened them. She makes sense, a lot of sense but only when you thought about it with a cool head.

But at that moment, while she was telling you all that? It's just safe to say you can grit your anger in between your teeth.

Now you were sitting in front of your therapist hoping she would help you reverse the psychology or something which would help you not feel horny for your husband.

‘Your husband who betrayed you and was now trying to make up for what he did which you were okay with and hoping for everything to be better one fucking day ago but now you feel like you wanna kiss him so badly it makes you dizzy’

It was like a mantra, hecheatedhecheatedhecheated, so that you don't pull him in to kiss the shit out of his cute little face.

When you say the same things you thought, your therapist nodded her head noting something down in her notepad. Maybe she thought you were mental.

“Mrs Jeon, I would suggest you control your sexual urges towards your husband by trying to remove yourself from the room he’s in. Considering he doesn’t sleep with you, but if he does-“ but you cut her sentence in the middle by whispering quickly in his defense.

“No-no he doesn't, he sleeps outside in the lobby.” You shake your head not making eye contact, feeling somehow guilty of your husband's daily discomfort.

“And it's completely okay, Mrs. Jeon, to have your space and have some distance. It doesn't make you a bad person.”

Damn, she is good. You need to give her great ratings. You look up at her and watch as she nods her head with a small smile making you feel at ease.

“Did you talk about this issue with Mr. Jeon?” She asks you, and you shake your head slightly. Why do you feel guilty, and what do you feel guilty of most importantly? Nodding to your reaction, she says, “Would you like to discuss why?”

“Would that even change anything?” You say with a huff a second after she finishes her sentence, frustration evident on your face.

Shrugging she says, “It might make things clearer..” her eyes slowly crinkled due to her hair falling in her eyes. Flicking it away she looks at you slightly tilting her head. “Isn't this what you chose, Mrs Jeon? Being honest is what your relationship needs at this point, isn’t it?

Sighing you realize how you might be running away from things, after all, you chose this journey. You both did and somehow you feel you might be turning into an obstacle towards a better family life, yourself.

Turning your head towards the plant in the room’s corner, you speak with a distant voice, “I don't know, All that I have gathered from the problems I have had in my life is that I could win any kind of battle if it were against my mind but if it's my heart I am fighting against? It's a fucking lost cause.”

“What do you think is the reason you would be fighting your heart, Mrs jeon?”

You scoff whipping your head towards her, eyes glistening. Digging your nails before saying what you feel just on the tip of your tongue,

“I love him.”

There's a pause, followed by your therapist humming.

“I love him so much I wanna forgive him and try to make things better but..”

“But..?”

Another pause. A suffocating one.

“I can't seem to do that to myself or my kid. What kind of an example would I be if I give in to something that's not right?!” After you notice how your expressions change into a frustrated scowl in the tiny mirror behind your therapist's head you feel your tears start to fall off.

“I am sorry.” You say sniffling and somehow embarrassed of your feelings taking over you.

“It's okay, Mrs. Jeon, here..” she offered you the tissue kept on her desk, and you wiped your tears chuckling at your situation.

How did your life get to where it was? You have no absolute fucking clue.

♡♡♡

You wince minutely when you reminisce how your last session went with Ms. Shin.

One moment you were crying because you can't forget the night he told you that he cheated on you and one moment you cried because you wanna hug him and then cry into his chest about how your hormones wanted you to kiss him but you can't because then you would cry about how you shouldn't be feeling like this about someone who betrayed you, then again you cry because you can't forget how he betrayed you.

It's like a frustrating cycle. A cycle you wanna throw off of a freaking dam to let it drown and maybe rust when the water starts to break the metal. Maybe that would help break it because there was no way in hell you could succeed in breaking it.

Not to mention how you have to pee every minute of the day and then crave pickles with some honey on them while sitting on the toilet seat.

Sounds tasty, right? Yeah, you shake your head in a quick no too as soon as you step outside and think how pickles would rather taste better with peanut butter on it.

As you deal with your tears and the spasmodic hand stomping on the pillow or table around you to let go of the kissy-kissy thoughts in your head, your husband stays clueless.

Not clueless about the hormones, na-ah.

Just the fact that you stare at him before you slap your hand on the table, or thump down the cup on the table too harshly for anyone to not notice. He tried to ask you if you felt okay. But ended up getting yelled at for not leaving you alone.

You once yelled at him for leaving the windows open which you asked to be left open, saying he should’ve known better when to close them.

This looks cute in shows and movies of how cute the mother-to-be looks yelling at a clueless husband but you on the other hand feel bad for making him feel actually at fault when he has been trying his best to make you feel comfortable.

What does he do after getting yelled at? He apologizes, does what you asked or yelled at him to do, and leaves. He still comes back and eats the dinner your mother made with you and your dad helping her out.

You feel terrible for how you are behaving around him, the worst part being that he takes everything you do and say to him without even reacting ever so slightly. You tried living life with him normally but you can’t forget the thought that lingers in the back of your head; that the favorite part of living your life with him was the affection, the touches.

It's frustrating to say the least that you haven't even hugged him in the last few months, you know that there is a reason behind the distance but since your mind tells you to create boundaries and try things again, your heart doesn’t understand how someone could try to make things better from a distance. Especially you and Jungkook.

He did everything according to how you needed without you telling him. Your childhood therapist once told you no matter how perfect a person tried to be there are certain situations where you can’t control the things the universe decides for you. She said that when you were having trouble accepting that you were the reason one of your ex-best friends changed schools, stating that you made her feel insecure. You had no idea.

So you accepted your fate, then and now as well. Doing things as they go in the flow. You had a discussion with your parents about how you are supposed to be having dinner with Jungkook as advised by your therapist so your mom and dad eat their dinner by 7 o’clock as advised by their doctors while you accompany them by having your soup or tea.

They thought it was a good idea so you agreed to do it.

By 9 o’clock or quarter to 9 Jungkook enters and you have your dinner and the discussion you are supposed to have about the baby.

It has been 15 minutes since your mom and dad went to their room after insisting on sitting with you while you wait for Jungkook to be back. You have your phone in your hand which starts to buzz with Jungkook’s name on the screen with the bunny emoji.

Picking up with a smile you answer to his voice.

God, you missed him.

Yep, you said it.

Picking up he seems like he is on the way and is trying to get his phone back from someone. “Hyung give me my phone back, hold his hands Yoongi hyung, hey-!” yes he was snatching his phone back.

You can hear a bunch of yelling noises in the background and you recognize the screaming voice immediately, Jimin. You shake your head at the chaos and smile putting a grape in your mouth.

“Hey, Y/N I am sorry I am a little late, I just wanted to ask if it's okay with me to bring Jimin and Yoongi Hyung over to your parent's house we have a bit of a situation on our hands.”

“Yeah, of course, kook, it's okay. Is everything okay though?”

Silence.

“Hello?”

“What did you call me?”

Your eyes widen at how you didn't even realize how normal this felt to you. You haven't called him Kook ever since you cried in his car after your first therapy session, always walking on eggshells.

“Y/N?”

Courage. Squeezing your fist and eyes shut you say,

“I called you k-kook. Is that not okay?”

Your leg starts to shake not knowing what to say next.

“No! Fuck, I mean it's more than okay. You know what? Let's not talk about it I don't wanna jinx it.” You can hear him smile and you can't help but widen your smile. It has been so long since you smiled this wide and you somehow feel better.

You repeat the words in your head, Don't feel guilty Y/N, go with it. Go with the flow. Cut yourself some slack. You’re going through a lot, be easy on yourself.

You smile and hear him chuckle before-

“Oh, no hyung not in my car ugh, we’ll be there in 5 minutes Y/N, I’ll reheat the food when I get there don't worry. Yoongi Hyung push his head out the window please-” And he hangs up.

Smiling at the chaotic phone call, you get up to check on your mom and dad if they are still up, wanting to tell them about the guests coming over. But since they were soundly asleep with the nightlights on, you switch them off, regulate the fan's speed, and take the phone from your sleeping-snoring mom’s hand plugging it to the charger and checking if they had water around them.

After checking up on your parents you close the door to their room and walk towards the kitchen to drink some water. Even the small activities could make a pregnant lady tired and the jug in your room was empty so you walked slowly towards the fridge. The pain getting better but still evident in your lower back which makes you put a hand on your back while you open the refrigerator.

Suddenly you spot a Harley bike model Jungkook gifted your father when he came home to meet your parents for the first time. Your father was really happy seeing the model, him being a Harley fan. If age didn't play a role in life your father would've still been traveling with your mom like those couples you saw in uni.

You remember how you and Jungkook loved to travel on his bike, you holding onto him as if your life depended on it, hair flowing from under the helmet and him accelerating the bike through the streets, hills, and empty roads leading to the cabin the whole group planned to visit during his and Namjoon’s collective birthday celebration.

Damn, you were so in love. Still are, and will probably always be.

The group has always been there for you, they're like the family you never knew you needed until they came into your life. The chaos was a part of your life, the screams, the teasing, the weekend game nights, the celebrations, movie nights which turned into everybody and their girlfriends crashing in the lobby on the mattresses Jungkook bought for the night stays.

You remember what the situation was when you met him for the first time six years ago.

♡♡♡

“Damnit Tae, jump outta here.” You argue with Taehyung as the three of you look out the window of your room.

“Fuck no. Are you mental? I’ll die if I jump out of here.” Taehyung says whisper yelling at your roommate, Aera, who rolls her eyes at her dramatic “friend” panicking with wide eyes.

“No, you won't, don’t be dramatic.” You scoff as you push him slightly in the windows direction.

“It's a whole ass floor Y/N, the fuck is wrong with you?” He scowls at you as he regains balance panicking.

“Maybe we should call Jungkook.”

“Jungkook? Jeon Jungkook with that loud-ass bike? Nice. Sneaking a boy out of our room with the help of another boy. Fan-fucking-tastic, Taehyung.” You clap two times with a straight face.

“Guys,” your friend giggles as she tries to focus on the main topic in the room, while Taehyung goes back to sit on your roommate’s bed.

“I think he is right, Y/N, we could at least get help from JK.”

“Mhm, help in getting kicked out.” You mumble not so quietly earning yourself a middle finger from Taehyung and an eyeroll from Aera.

“Fine, do whatever you want.” You say rolling your eyes.

The thing was you were only partly nervous because of your forced eviction but also because you had never met Jungkook, the campus crush. More like the crush of every girl who saw him on his bike. You were not one of them, at least you wouldn't admit that but you wouldn't deny that he was a pretty face to look at and a very hot piece of ass to stare at. The proportions of that man were totally insane.

Tiny waist, big- biteable chest, broad shoulders, thick thighs, luscious hair locks, biceps people could hang on, the all-black outfit, and the very contrasting facial features. If he wore a helmet people wouldn't imagine how the guy had big doe boba eyes and a cute mole under his lips, skin better than half of the girls who spent so much on products. He always had that glint in his eyes making him seem so innocent, innocent but with a physique that can crush people.

You never talked to him so you don't know how he sounds or if he is a rude person. You just know he is Taehyung’s friend whom he hangs out with around the campus.

While you thought about how Jungkook might or might not be your crush, Taehyung called him and you all got up to sneak him out of the house.

“Wait you don't need to come if you don't want to Y/N,” Aera said after looking around the hallways and telling Taehyung to tiptoe downstairs since her aunt’s room was on the same floor as yours.

“H-Huh? N-no I wanna go as well. So that if she wakes up I can tell her we both went out to get some fresh air while the guys ran away y-you know? “

You said. Terrible at lying. You wanted to see the man coming to save his friend.

Your friend was in a hurry sneaking her fuck buddy out so she didn't pay attention to what you said and how you said it. A total stuttering mess.

Walking out of the house you never imagined him to be so..so..so tasty. Thats the only words that come to your mind. He parked his bike at a safe distance because of how much noise it made and approached you guys.

The image in your hand was like the 480p version of how beautiful and ethereal he was but in reality, he had tattoos. Tattoos! Not even a small one, a whole arm that stretched inside his white sleeveless tee.

You thanked the cloth gods for making this particular article of clothing because you needed to see how hot men you would want to eat up looked in it.

“Told you, you would need my help.” He smirks as Taehyung walks past him only turning around to come back and give Aera a quick kiss and then running away again, making her blush.

“Run dumbass, their landlord would skewer us on her cane,” Taehyung says and you chuckle at how exaggerated he made Aera’s aunt sound. At your chuckle, Jungkook looks at you and you pause mid-laugh when you notice him looking at you.

“Hi, I’m Jungkook.” He extends his hand towards you and you blush not knowing how to respond to his raspy voice.

“Yeah, I know you.” You say staring at him with heat on your cheeks and immediately kick yourself mentally.

You sound like a fucking creep. I know you? seriously?

He smiles, “..and you are..?

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to be rude I’m Y/N, Hi heh.” You extend your hand to shake his and he whispers your name under his breath eyes still looking into yours.

“Hi Y/N, you’re very pretty.” While he rubs his thumb on your already heating skin making it burst into flames as he rubs it again.

“Kook!” Taehyung yells and you break the eye contact, taking your hand back.

“It's okay don't be sorry, I didn't find you rude rather, I found you cute.” He says as you look at him again. You think it was an imagination of your beauty-struck head or maybe it was due to dark but..did he just check you out?

You give him a confused look at what he said, making him chuckle. He sounds so deliciously hot and raspy. God.

“That you know who I am, considering how you’re always in the art studio. I found it cute.” He says with a smile leaning slightly towards your face and you lean back at the same time he leans in. He stays towering over you and maybe notices your expressions. You just hope he didn't notice how red your cheeks might be.

Does he know about the art studio? Only people close to you knew about it.

Seeing your wide eyes, he straightens up to his original height and chuckles. He sounds so good, it reaches inside you and you knew that you were fucked.

“Kook?” You didn't even notice when Taehyung came back to drag his friend back. Slapping his shoulder and then sprinting towards the bike again.

“Kook, let's go. She switched on some kind of light in her room oh god. She’ll beat your and my asses collectively.” Taehyung yells waving his friends over.

“Hey we’re gonna be in the beat party as well, Y/N lets go,” Aera speaks from the driveway of her aunt's house, slowly retrieving her steps.

But you were stuck. Stuck on how his bunny teeth played with the piercing on his lips. Not being able to bear eye contact with him, you flicked your eyes away.

When Taehyung yelled again from a distance, Jungkook responded with a ‘yea yea coming’ while stepping backward with his white sleeveless tee sticking to his body.

Generally, you didn't like summers but you were so glad it was hot enough that he decided to wear a sleeveless outfit, for you to ogle his tattoos.

Taehyung and Aera were already away from the both of you, Taehyung at a safer distance from the house and Aera still waiting for you at the house hoping her aunt just woke up for her nightly washroom trips and didn't see you guys with these beautiful men.

With a smile on his face, he stepped back facing you. Clicking his tongue twice to get your attention, you looked at him to immediately regret locking eyes with him. He winked at you and said, “See you around, sweetheart.”

You swear you saw his eyes flitting to your lips and then to your skirt that was flowing with the slight wind in the surroundings before he turned around and ran towards his panicking friend.

You knew he was casually flirting and was out of your league. And since you didn't believe your luck would suddenly turn out to be on your side you didn't think of his wink as something more than something casual.

But goddamnit, the crush you never admitted to, was finally admitted in your heart.

♡♡♡

You smile as you pick the model in your hand at the fond memories of how you tried so hard to remain just friends with the guy even though he hung out with you daily, accompanied you in your art studio confirming he knew about you before meeting you. You never knew your friendship could be more than what it was but maybe growing up and getting jobs made you want to prioritize yourself and your wants, so you decided to tell him how you felt but he beat you to it three days before you planned on confessing.

“Sorry sweetheart, wanted to kiss you as my girlfriend on Valentine's Day without the fear of rejection in the back of my brain.” That's what he said before he kissed the living daylights out of you on the gazebo at your favorite park.

You smile remembering how he took you to the park saying the cherry blossoms were blooming early that year, you believed him nodding with excitement and you went along with him running and holding hands. Reaching there you were sad that no blossoms were blooming but then he gave you the promise ring he ordered from the vintage store you loved so much. You knew it cost him a lot but when you asked him about it he just chuckled deeply avoiding that question and before you could pick that topic again he kneeled on one knee and asked you to be his girlfriend officially.

You smile at the memories and keep the bike model back on the shelf, the flashback coming to a halt as you come back to the living room when your phone buzzes with your husband's name on it.

He didn't ring the doorbell nowadays to be cautious in case your parents were asleep. So you went to the door and opened it already expecting Jimin leaning on Jungkook’s shoulders while Yoongi just snickered at his younger brother, seeming unconscious but Jimin was very much awake, also very very drunk as he clung to Yoongi telling him everything was going to be okay. Jungkook held three bags as he gave you a sheepish smile at his Hyungs’ behavior.

“Yes, Yes, Jimin. It's gonna be okay.” Yoongi held Jimin very firmly while giving you a small smile before asking where to put him so that he could blubber nonsense somewhere your neighbors wouldn't hear.

Jungkook chuckles and leads them to the guest room while muttering a ‘hi’, looking at you from head to toe as if checking if you had any injuries.

“Hi,” you whisper, enough for him to catch your voice.

“How was your day?” You ask trying to take the bags from his hand but he tilts his body giving you a look that says ‘Really?’.

Sighing with a smile, you close the door and follow him inside.

“It was good- Oh shit the guest room door is locked. Wait hyung let me get the key” he put the bags on the counter while a grunting Yoongi held a wobbly Jimin in his hands.

“Wow realized it so soon,” Yoongi says sarcastically l as Jimin looks at you with a smile on his face. Gasping dramatically, he removes himself from his brother's shoulders and comes towards you, slightly tilted, but he somehow reaches you.

“I can see your baby.” Your eyes widen at what he said and you scoff a laugh as Jimin kneels down in front of your belly.

“He means you’re showing, and he is noticing that now, only, he sounds creepy as fuck.” Yoongi walks back to the sofa and sits down with a long sigh.

“May I please?” He says as hovers his hands over your belly with big puppy eyes and you chuckle at how patiently he wants you to answer.

“Yes, Jimin you may.” You say with a laugh and he whispers to your tummy hovering his hand above it like it's a crystal ball.

“Hi tiny person, I am Jimin, your godfather..” he giggles at the end of his sentence while you hear Yoongi chuckle from the couch.

“The fuck? When did we decide that hyung?” Jungkook stands next to you with keys hanging from his fingers, narrowed gaze focused on his elder brother.

“Shhhhhh” Jimin shushes Jungkook loudly almost spitting on your belly. You laugh as he looks pointedly at Jungkook.

“You don’t get to decide that. Dumbass.” Jimin slurs out and tries to get up grabbing the trousers Jungkook wore, almost making him fall over with his weight.

“Hyung, fuck you’re heavy when drunk.”

“I fucking know right? I don’t know how that happens..” Yoongi mumbles typing something on his phone, stretching his neck sideways to pop the strained muscle.

Jungkook stumbles while you also try to help him balance Jimin by bending slightly to keep a hand on his shoulders, but then you remove it as Jungkook whispers ‘I got him I got him’ assuringly not wanting you to take any strain.

Smiling to yourself you walk over to the couch adjacent to where Yoongi was sitting, asking if he needed water or anything like that.

“Nah I’m good. Thanks.” He waves his hand as he keeps his phone aside watching how Jungkook manages to drag Jimin back.

“...You’ll look good in a tutu as well..” Jimin says to Jungkook poking a finger to his sides continuously. “You know a white one with stars on it, I’ll gift it to the baby so that you can match your outfits then” Jungkook rolls his eyes in annoyance as Jimin’s voice fades into the guest room Jungkook opens for him to sleep in.

“Let me go check up on him yeah?” Yoongi says softly getting up from the couch, picking up a banana on the way to the guest room. Raising one of his brows and the fruit in the air as if asking for permission to eat it. You tilt your head with narrowed eyes passing on the message, ‘You have to ask?’

He smiles slightly shrugging and heads towards the guest room while pealing the banana.

“Jungkook, is he under control now or still wobbly- oh, fuck no-“ Yoongi asks from outside of the room but then pauses in his tracks as you hear Jungkook whine slightly out of disgust and you immediately get up feeling a slight ache in your lower back due to the hurry.

“Is everything okay?” You ask concern evident in your eyes.

Yoongi chuckles and moves away from the door, shaking his head. “Not gonna eat this now, sorry, Y/N.” He says, still laughing.

“Oh no did he-“Before you could say something Jungkook stomps his way out of the guest room and you immediately feel nausea entering you seeing your husband's sleeve covered in vomit.

“Hyung could you please help me heat the food? I’m gonna go take a shower, sorry hyungie just please-“ he continues walking towards the common bathroom at the end of the hall.

“Sure” Yoongi chuckles moving towards the fridge.

“I’ll help you..” you take a step towards the crockery cupboard.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll do it, you sit.” He says pausing you midway.

“No Yoongi lemme help..” you say but he just points the small spoon towards the island chair.

“It's okay Y/N I’ll do it.” He says nodding while opening the Tupperware filled with the various side dishes and the tofu-miso stew.

“I just don't wanna trouble you Yoongi, thanks though.” You say giving up on offering help as he heats the food one by one in the microwave.

“Oh it's not for free, I am taking the godfather’s title in exchange for this.” He smirks glancing at the room Jimin slept in.

“Yeah okay, try beating Jimin for the title. You chuckle looking in the same direction for a second and then at the man heating up the food. While he just gives you a small laugh while warming up the rice in the cooker, mumbling, “We’ll see who wins.”

You smile and pat your feet on the ground in a rhythm as Yoongi places the food on the kitchen island. You feel guilty for making him do this but he has already rejected your help three times so there was no point in arguing over it.

“Y/N?” Yoongi whispers looking at a plate in his hand.

“Yea?”

“I know it's none of my business and I should not even say something about this but can I just say it's really nice that you’re trying again?” He says lifting his head to look at your reaction to what he said.

You feel yourself freeze, this is the first time you had a conversation about your situation with Jungkook, the cheating, and the decision to try again. You sure talked about the pregnancy and yes there was always that lingering awkwardness in the air but this was new.

“Yea..” you sigh looking at your lap for a second and then lifting your head to give him a soft smile.

“Not everyone is lucky enough to get a chance to revive their relationship.” He says still looking at the plate while tracing the pattern on it with his index finger.

You know that his relationship ended badly, you knew how much he loved his girlfriend, you know he acts like it's okay but his dark circles tell another story, you know he looks thin and exhausted all the time but acts like it's nothing.

You know it's not nothing.

“Yoongi, I am sorry about-“But before you could finish your sentence he laughs almost in pain.

“It's okay Y/N, it's done, she is gone. She is happy without me and I can't change that.” He says and you feel your heart break at how small he sounds.

“It sucks but it's true.” He says softly, half to you half to himself, still trying to process his grief over the relationship he lost. After an uncomfortable pause, he continues.

“I saw him Y/N,” he points his chin in the direction of the washroom Jungkook was taking a shower in when you look at him confused at the change of topic.

“..and don't think I am taking his side 'cause he is like a brother to me but I say this honestly, he was devastated while he was away from you.” You just stare at him with eyes round and wide not expecting this conversation to go this way.

“He forgot to eat and sleep, just kept asking Jin Hyung and me if we saw you or if any other of guys saw you.” He says while you look at him nervously talking about the topic, picking his nails.

“Do you remember the time you were at the hospital due to your abdominal pain?” You nod at his question feeling your throat tighten up uncomfortably so you divert your gaze down at the plate with little blue flowers printed on the ceramic.

“He ran to the hospital since his car was still parked at your previous address.” Your eyes widen and you whip your head toward the man standing in front of you.

What does he mean he ran?

“What?” You whisper.

“Taehyung had a night shift and he was alone at the apartment. I tried to tell him to wait for me to pick him up when he called to ask if Taehyung left office or not, but he just hung up saying it would take too long.”

“So he ran to you.” You feel your throat tighten as humanly possible, eyes burning.

Wasn’t Taehyung’s house almost double times the way compared to your route connecting your house to the hospital? You can't even comprehend how he felt when you didn't even talk to him that day.

Shouldn’t you feel like he deserved to feel like that? Shouldn't you say that he did that to himself? That was what you should've said right? But your heart thumps harder every second making your eyes spill the tears gathering in them.

You remember Jungkook was really out of breath and was also wearing different slippers that day.

“Since it was pretty late, he couldn't even book a cab quickly..” Yoongi looks at you and notices how your gaze is zeroed onto him and immediately understands your expressions.

“Hey, I am not trying to make you feel bad or something like that, what he did and what you guys decided is totally none of my business but I just wanted to tell you that giving a second chance is not easy and I really wish things work out for your relationship. I really appreciate you both working through so much stress you know? I can see what his vision meant when he wanted to quit last month.”

“What?” You whisper

“No no, he doesn't want to quit now, I mean after what you both decided Namjoon talked to Mr. Park and handled it..” when Yoongi doesn’t see you respond to whatever he said he realizes that you look lost.

“You don't know, do you?”

“Don't know what?” You whisper again, heart racing. Why do you feel you're not gonna like what he is gonna say?

There is a pause, a very uncomfortable pause. He visibly scans your face and inhales sharply as if deciding against or in favor of telling you about the whole situation.

You clench your pajama pants into your fists as your hand rests on your lap. The kitchen felt stuffy all of a sudden. This might seem like an overreaction but your body feels defensive all of a sudden, deciding between running away or ripping the bandaid off.

Deciding on the latter you ask,

“Yoongi, please tell me?” You request softly and at your almost inaudible request, Yoongi sighs, giving up. He shuts his eyes for a second and then looks up smiling sadly at you.

You hold your breath.

“Um, he was promoted to be the next VP of the agency, and uh..” he rubs the back of his neck looking away, avoiding the eye contact with you.

“And he rejected it?” You whisper and Yoongi nods, still not looking at you.

“The job required him to give more time into his job, more hours away from home. From you and her.” He looks at you and then points his chin in your tummy’s direction.

“So when they told him the details about the hours and the business trips, he immediately refused. Since he was the most eligible person for the job, the CEO, Mr Park..” he says,

“Mr. Park.” You say at the same time nodding.

“Yes, Mr. Park tried convincing him saying he’ll adjust according to your due date and whatever changes Kook would want to his schedule but this kid..” Yoongi chuckles shaking his head, “..rejected it, saying if he had to quit the job he would do it but he would not add onto whatever hours he was working.”

“Then suddenly..” Yoongi picks up a tangerine from the fruit bowl and starts peeling it.

“He came up with an idea of actually quitting in order to give more time to you and your child, so when Namjoon said and I quote, ‘Y/N is gonna kill you if you do that, she knows how much you worked for this’ Jungkook said that you both decided mutually that rejecting the promotion was okay and you were okay with whatever he decided about his job. Which…looking at you right now doesn't seem like it.” Yoongi looks at you with a hesitant expression, offering you the peeled fruit.

You feel your ears heat up and not out of good reason, you are actually mad at him. You were hearing all of this for the first time and you can't believe he backed off from the job he got offered after working so hard. The reason he used to work his ass off, extra time, no holidays, always punctual, not caring about his meals and whatnot, and then just fucking backed off?

"When was this?" You say gritting your teeth, eyes glistening with angry tears, eyes still on Yoongi.

You take the piece of fruit from his hand and shove it in your mouth, eyes red with tears in them.

“Y/N..”

“Why didn't he tell me? And wait a minute he said it was a mutual decision?! What the hell?”

“Y/N, he must have had a reason for saying so, he did explain the reasons and it sounded like he gave it a lot of thought. “

“Don’t you mean WE gave it a lot of thought? hah.” You say chuckling bitterly, swallowing the fruit, your hand going through your hair in frustration as you face the direction where your husband showers unaware of the angry volcano on the other side of the bathroom door.

“What the hell is wrong with him?!” You almost scream but lower your voice remembering your parents are asleep, immediately looking around warily and Yoongi does the same, with similar expressions on his face.

“Sorry, I just feel so mad right now.” You say squeezing your eyes shut, speaking through your teeth.

“I guess you should talk to him,” he says looking at you softly.

“You’re damn right I will-“ you say

“But not now, privately, okay?”

You look at him breathing heavily, cheeks wet with tears, his eyes pleading to not lose your calm immediately. You look at his anger and countless emotions swirling in your mind, nose flaring.

“Ah, okay fine.” You say throwing your hands in frustration, coming back to wipe the tears off your cheeks.

The next few minutes Yoongi tried not to talk about anything and you just swirled your spoon in the spoon Yoongi served for you. He constantly made sure you were sipping the soup, giving you water, and peeling another tangerine for you.

He almost sighed in relief when the bathroom door clicked open and Jungkook came out of the washroom. The steam rushed out of the white-tiled space along with a drippy Jungkook and a goddamned towel around his waist.

You feel madder now. Is that even a word? You don't care because that's how you feel. Madder.

Remember when you said how your emotions were on a roll these days? Yea. It was an understatement because the moment you saw your husband with that damned towel hanging low on his hips your anger turned into angry horniness, you wished, only for a second, but wished Yoongi wasn't here so that you could straddle the half-naked guy and ask him about the stupid decision he made.

Although Jungkook had immediately rushed into the room to get some clothes on him it was enough to make your ovaries light up on fire. You're mad and horny, two things that don't go well for you. Especially not in this state.

"Hey guys I am sorry, I had to wash off all that puke stench. Why didn't you guys start eating yet?"

"I don't know maybe you took very long to shower." You snap at your husband and he freezes in his tracks to get the plate.

"Y/N, I was there for only 10 mins."

“I don't know, felt like 10 years." At your tone Jungkook looks at you concerned and then at Yoongi who watches awkwardly, the whole scene unfolding in front of him.

"Guys you know what I think I am gonna head home, I have eaten with Jimin earlier and need sleep."

“No- yoongi eat please-“ you request feeling guilty for making him awkward.

“Yes hyung, please finish your dinner.” Jungkook says, looking at his hyung but then flicking his gaze back at you.

“No no its really okay.” Yoongi says, already walking away from the island.

"Okay, hyung." He says after a second his eyes wandering back to you observing your sour mood. Eyebrows furrowed with thought while you just chewed on the rice mixed with the curry not looking at Jungkook after waving to Yoongi.

Yoongi walks towards the doorway with slow steps, the footsteps echoing along with the tinkled spoon made inside the curry bowl. He grabs the keys and walks towards the two of you, giving you a nod and patting Jungkook’s back.

"Take care Y/N and you too, kook." He stares two seconds longer at the younger male and then nods at him. Jungkook gets up halfway to which Yoongi waves in a signal for Jungkook to not bother seeing him off.

The door clicks shut leaving you and Jungkook in silence.

"Y/N wha-"

"Eat, Jungkook."

At your stern tone, Jungkook flinches and just resumes eating in silence. Silence for almost 10 minutes. 10 slow and irritating minutes. It was like the clock ticked 10 seconds forward and then 40 seconds backward. The silence added to the awkwardness you both felt, making the time more unbearable.

Again, did you mention slow?

All the thoughts come back to your mind, every emotion holding your neck in a chokehold, everything that you’ve felt since the day started comes back. The conversation with your mom about how she asked you if you wanted to move back in with ever, you thought your mom wanted you to leave so you cried. All the emotions you felt then catching up to you.

The thoughts of being alone with him made you happy and cry at the same time in the afternoon while you finished working on the report your seniors asked you to finish before your leave started. You feel all the emotions you felt while rewatching the notebook in the evening before dinner. You feel all the emotions at once, those emotions which you felt when Jungkook called you from his car and, also when he called you from his office to check if you had your medicine.

The emotions of frustration and anger when Yoongi told you about the job offer and how your husband rejected it. The thoughts about something bad happening to your child come back and make your head dizzy. It's too much at the same time. You're happy that he is eating his food in silence because if he did say anything before you finish, you might actually run to the bathroom to vomit all of your emotions.

After minutes of frustration and anger and sadness and silence, you finally got up and almost threw the plate in the sink, Jungkook tried to get your plate but you just brushed past him huffing finally making Jungkook ask you the question you didn't want to hear and hear at the same time.

You wanted to talk to him about the whole thing and didn't at the same time. You were on an emotional rollercoaster, and Jungkook was gonna be the bird that hit the coaster blades, getting hurt.

"Y/N did I do something wrong?"

"Oh, do you do anything right these days Jungkook? I don't think so." You chuckle throwing the glass of water into the sink thankfully not breaking it.

Turning towards your husband, you immediately regret saying what you said because he just looks like a kicked puppy. Big eyes filled with gloss, nose red, and wobbly chin. His features make you feel like the worst human being on this planet.

"Y/N, I am sorry for whatever it is but can you tell me what's wrong?" He whispers looking- no, pleading with his eyes as you stand like a wall in front of him.

"You tell me, did you do anything to make me feel stupid and pathetic recently?" You say pointedly. Venom. Pure venom.

"Baby.."

"Don’t. Don't call me that." You say firmly.

"Shit- I am sorry Y/N please tell me what happened..wait-" You push yourself away from the counter instantly feeling the pain in your lower back.

“Bab- Y/N wait.” He rushes to your side holding one of your hands and one holding your waist, giving you support but somehow his touch stings, in the best way. You hate your mind and heart. You just hate it.

“No, I can walk myself I am not a toddler.” He doesn't let go of your hand even though you tell him to, he helps you walk towards your room. You try to tell him that you can walk alone but he doesn't listen instead he just hums or mutters 'I know' and it infuriates you more.

Why isn’t he saying anything? You’re literally acting like a spoiled kid right now.

Opening the door he walks you inside the room and helps you sit on the bed. As you take heavy breaths placing a hand on your chest you feel how rapidly your heart raced.

Removing the lid of the glass sitting on your nightstand, he helps you sip some of the liquid. You feel tears in your eyes and when he removes the glass from your lips he just smiles sadly at you and wipes the tears from your face with his thumb.

Leaning into his touch you say, "Why are you okay with me being like this to you?"

Okay, that's a dumb question to ask. You were so mad at him but when you look at him you feel like you are treating him like shit for something he doesn't deserve. Of course, he cheated on you, of course, you want to not love him because of that, and of course, your heart aches when you think of the betrayal but can you ever unlove him? Can you ever hurt him knowing you're gonna hurt him and not feel bad? Can you ever just look at him and feel nothing for him? Can you ever not love him?

Your head feels buzzed and when he speaks and your anger explodes.

"I deserve it, baby." You scrunch his t-shirt in your hand and pull him towards you, making him almost fall on you but he regains his balance by placing one of his hands on the comforter. With wide eyes, he just stares at you and the way your eyes brim with fresh tears. He tilts his head as if feeling guilty for the tears but you don't let him say anything.

"Why?" At this he looks at you confused.

The other tattooed hand finds its way on top of your wrist holding his t-shirt and you feel your sanity fly away for a second but at his confused expression, you feel your anger come back.

"Y/N what-" he sputters with big eyes

"Why did you reject the job offer?" you finally say.

Pin. Drop. Silence.

"What?" he breathes out.

"You think you can make that big of a decision by yourself? " you say sniffling.

"How did you-"

"How did I know? How about, why didn't I know?" You raise your voice slightly, and he shuts the door so that your parents don't get their sleep interrupted, tilting slightly towards the entrance, your bed not being that far from the door.

"Y/N I am sorr-" you cut him off mid sentence.

"Sorry? How many things are gonna be okay just because you apologize Jungkook?! It was your dream, you worked so hard for it.." you say feeling tears spill out of your eyes and when he just looks down at your lap with his lips twisted in a straight line guiltily, you can't help but yell at him a bit, "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

You didn't realize when your hand shifted from the t-shirt's neckline to his neck. You realize that only when his eyes shut for a second at the feeling of your hands on his face, the other hand coming to sit on top of the comforter on the other side of your body. Holding onto his face you asked him the question with big teary eyes, wet cheeks, and a wobbly chin.

"Tell me, kook?"

Sighing he answers, "Baby, they wanted me to go away."

"Don't lie to me, Jungkook, please. Yoongi told me they were ready to fix the schedule according to you -"

"And you think they were gonna do that for me forever?" He asks.

"Why did you say that I agreed then? Why did you lie? Why didn't you come talk to me? Do you think I wouldn't have understood or that you think it's not important for me to know?"

"Would you have let me quit if I wanted to?" He asked instantly.

You pause. Dammit.

"You see? That's why I didn't tell you. You're already handling so many responsibilities, I didn't wanna worry you more." He says, eyes turning soft.

You look at him. Eyes looking at him trying to find dishonesty, the thing was, Jungkook doesn't lie. Even after he did what he did, he came out to you truthfully. It hurt but you're where you are because he was honest. It's the bare minimum, honesty, but its rare. At least in your experience. But not with Jungkook. He can't lie.

"They were willing to change my schedule for me only until she is born.." he says looking at your tummy and then lifting his eyes to look at you.

"..I can't risk being away from you again. It might sound like I am lying but Y/N, baby, I don't wanna be away from you even for a single second. I wanna prove myself to be worthy of a second chance. I wanna be worthy of you and her. I can’t imagine my life even for a second without you or her. You can push me all you want, you can yell at me all you want but don't tell me that I should've chosen a job and not my family. I know I don’t have an answer for why I did what.." he pauses gulps and continues.

"...I did, I myself don't know why I did it, and trust me if I could turn back the time I would. But baby..." he puts his hand on yours that is resting on his cheek waiting for a second, barely visible, but he waits for some kind of negative reaction to him touching you. When he senses none, he continues,

"...I love you, and I will love you for my whole life, I will love you and my family until I breathe. I am so sorry for fucking things up but I want to fix them, I can fix them, we will fix it. Just don't please.." he squeezes his eyes shut slightly squeezing your hand as well.

"... don't ask me to go away from you. I can't live away from you. I would quit my job if that's what it takes to be with my family, to take care of my family, to take care of you, and to take care of us. Please tell me I can be with you, can you please tell me you don’t want me to go away? Pleas- “

You tell him exactly that, but not verbally because wasn’t it ironic how he feels sorry for not knowing why he did what he did when you don't even think of any second thoughts before you do what you do, without knowing why.

Lips crashing on his, you shut him up with an answer you feel him absorbing inside him. He freezes when you kiss him, his breath stuttering when you move your lips against him. You squeeze his t-shirt in desperate need, and you feel him flutter his eyelids against your cheekbones, your tears mixing with his, and he kisses you back.

Does it last? Does your happiness last? No.

As soon as he moves his lips, you hear him sniffle and break the kiss. His eyes are still red, and his cheeks are slightly wet as well. He sniffles again, but the only sound you can hear is your heartbreaking because he moves away.

Away from the bed. Away from the comforter. Away from the kiss. Away from you.

He gets up and takes a step back, shaking his head, eyes squeezed shut. He curses under his breath as if regaining his composure while you just stare at the space where he was sitting earlier.

“I- I am sorry, Y/N. I shouldn't, I can't. I am really sorry, I shouldn't. I just shouldn't. I am sorry.”

And he leaves the room, shutting the door, not completely but leaving it slightly ajar. It's just like he does always. You hear the kitchen tap opening. He probably is doing the dishes. You hear everything from outside the door, but you feel like there's radio silence in your room.

A low beep-like sound ringing in your ears, embarrassment? Hurt? Love? Anger? Betrayal? Pain? Need? Desire? You feel so much at once, and you don't know what to do with it. This is getting so much more fucked and somehow you both find new ways to make this way tougher than anyone can imagine.

After some time, you hear the lights outside click off, and you can't help but wish he came to you. He does, but only to keep a fresh glass of water on the nightstand. He wishes you good night in a whisper, glancing once at your face and then,

...leaves.

Well, shit.

___________________________________________

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