#i will have to drive there myself for the first time

[whatsnewalycat]

The first time I got pregnant I had just turned 18. I did not want to be pregnant or be a parent. I was still in high school and living with my dad and stepmom; I didn’t talk to them about it bc I didn’t trust them to be supportive.

My friends and boyfriend at the time (now my husband god bless) went to the abortion clinic in the cities one Saturday. I told my parents we were going to the mall. There were pro-life protesters outside the clinic holding signs telling me that what I was about to do was murder. Once inside, we sat in a small crowded waiting room for 8 hours. I hated the procedure. I felt fucking awful afterwards. People talk about pregnancy and postpartum hormones but we don’t really talk about how out of whack hormones get after an abortion. I plummeted into depression before leaving the clinic. As we were driving out, one of the pro-life protesters with her stupid embryo sign smiled and waved at me and I gave her the finger and mouthed FUCK YOU.

We see a lot of pro-life propaganda in rural areas, a lot of billboards and road signs with pictures of babies saying shit like “I’m a child not a choice” or whatever. I remember seeing those signs on the way home and how angry and sad they made me feel. Not because of regret—I have never once regretted my decision to terminate that pregnancy—but the hormones and the shame and that very lonely feeling of being surrounded by people who think you’re disgusting and immoral.

What I wanted to say is that these billboards are rad and I’m so glad they exist. I wish I could have seen more of this on that drive home instead of the imagery that made me feel deeply ashamed of myself.

What I also wanted to say is that abortions are rad and I’m so glad they exist. People should always have a choice in whether or not they want to host a pregnancy in their body. Every single reason a person has for terminating their pregnancy is a good reason.

"Interstate 55 carries 10s of thousands of abortion seekers out of southern states to Illinois, where abortion is legal. I-55 is covered with horrific, shaming billboards. Shout Your Abortion put up 6 good ones, to show love & affirmation to those making the journey." x

[woso-story]

Better Boyfriend Than Him - Part Twenty-Two

Alexia Putellas x Reader - Other Parts

Being Alexia's girlfriend is… perfect.

There’s no other word for it.

Waking up next to her, the way her arm lazily wraps around your waist in the mornings. The soft kisses on your temple before she leaves for training. The way she smiles at you like she’s still surprised she gets to call you hers. It’s all perfect—so easy and natural, like it was always meant to be this way.

But just as everything is falling into place, it’s time to leave.

You’re heading home for Christmas—Zaragoza, with your family and Mapi’s—and suddenly the timing feels unfair. You just got her, just held her hand in public for the first time, just kissed her in front of your friends… and now you have to leave?

You cling to her the morning of your departure, sitting on the edge of your bed in your thick sweater, your overnight bag packed and waiting at the door. Alexia stands in front of you in her pajamas, arms crossed and teasing you with a little smile.

“You’re acting like you’re leaving for six months,” she says, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“It feels like it,” you mumble.

She laughs and leans in, pressing a long, slow kiss to your lips. “You’ll be back in a few days. I’ll be fine.”

You’re not sure if you will.

Mapi’s voice cuts through the moment from the hallway. “Okay, lovebirds. We’re late. Again.”

Alexia helps you up, your hand lingering in hers even as you walk toward the door.

“I don’t want to go,” you whisper.

“I know,” she whispers back, her voice soft.

Just as you turn to say goodbye one more time, Mapi groans. “Seriously? I’m gonna drag you out myself.”

And she does.

She literally wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you out the door while you and Alexia are still laughing through your goodbyes. Alexia leans against the doorway, watching you with soft eyes and a small smile, blowing you one last kiss.

It’s hard. Really hard.

But the Christmas days are… perfect.

Your family is thrilled to have you back, and the warmth of home wraps around you like your favorite blanket. There’s food, endless teasing, way too many sweets. And everyone’s excited to meet Alexia someday—your parents, your cousins, even your uncle who pretends not to care about football but somehow knows exactly how many goals she scored this season.

In the evenings, it’s just you and your girlfriend again. You curl up under your childhood blanket, your phone pressed to your ear, and tell each other what you’ve been doing the last few hours.

Her voice always makes your heart calm down.

She tells you about what her mom cooked, and how Alba forced her into watching Love Actually again. You tell her about your grandma’s bad jokes and how you can’t stop thinking about her whenever someone says the word “Barcelona.”

And then, just like that, it’s New Year’s Eve.

You and Mapi are driving back to Barcelona, music blasting, the car packed with presents and leftovers. You're both excited—there's something special about ringing in the new year with your people. Your girlfriend. Your friends. Your life.

The apartment is buzzing with laughter when you arrive. People are everywhere—Alexia in the kitchen with Alba, pouring cava into mismatched glasses. She turns the second you step through the door.

Your heart jumps when you see her. She looks at you like you’re the only thing in the room.

“You’re back,” she says, crossing over to pull you into a kiss.

“I told you I’d come back,” you smile against her lips.

The night is full of music, dancing, drinks, and joy. Midnight comes too fast. Everyone’s counting down around you, glasses raised, eyes bright.

“Cinco!”

“Cuatro!”

“Tres!”

You’re already turning to her, arms around her neck.

“Dos!”

“Uno!”

And then her lips are on yours, and nothing else matters.

The best start to a new year in a long time.

---

Time with Alexia moves differently now. Faster, somehow, but fuller too.

The new year kicks off with both of you buried in responsibilities. She heads off to training camp with Barca. You dive into a new project at work that keeps you glued to your laptop late into the evenings. Life is moving fast—but it’s moving in the right direction.

She still finds ways to make you feel like you’re her priority. You come home to flowers more often than not—sometimes roses, sometimes wild little bouquets she picked up “just because.” Sometimes there’s a note tucked between the petals, scribbled in her handwriting:

“You’re the calm in my chaos.”

You go on double dates with Mapi and Ingrid. You visit Eli and Alba often, sharing Sunday coffees and warm croissants. The first time they came over after Alexia made it official with you, Eli pulled you into the tightest hug and whispered, “Ya era hora. Bienvenida a la familia.”

Everything is falling into place.

At the end of January, it’s your birthday.

Because Alexia’s birthday is less than a week later, the two of you decide to celebrate together—nothing extravagant, just a cozy dinner with your closest friends. Laughter bubbles through the night, champagne glasses clink, and Alexia keeps looking at you like she’s the luckiest person in the room.

Maybe she is.

But you feel the same way.

Alexia is the best girlfriend you could ever ask for. Supportive, steady, full of quiet passion. She kisses you when you’re stressed, holds you when you're tired, reminds you with every little thing she does that you’re loved, deeply.

Life isn’t just good.

It’s perfect.

[jjjjisun]

Asa and her family will help her move to her new apartment in Seoul, near her job as a member of the girl group BABYMONSTER. Since the car will be packed with her items, she will sit on her brother’s lap throughout the 2-hour trip.

With Asa In The Backseat

Asa X Male Reader | 3485 words

TW: Incest

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The vintage sedan that had seen better days was crammed like a tin of sardines. The backseat, meant for two, was now occupied by four: me, my younger sister Asa, and all her clothes and baggage. Our parents had insisted on bringing an oversized painting, leaving barely any legroom for us. Asa, perched on my lap, was the only one who seemed unbothered by the tight space.

Asa's head rested on my shoulder, her hair tickling my neck. She was small and petite, but her weight was solid on my thighs. I shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position, but the car's interior was as unyielding as our situation.

"I can't feel my feet," I muttered, wiggling my toes in my boots. Asa giggled, her breath warm on my ear.

"You're such a Daddy's Girl," she teased. "Can't even sit cramped for a few hours."

I squeezed her side, making her laugh louder. "And you're a little brat," I retorted. "Now, lift your butt so I can adjust."

Asa pouted but did as she was told, lifting herself just enough for me to readjust my legs. I stretched them out as much as the space allowed, feeling relieved. But as Asa settled back down, her weight landed differently this time, the crack of her butt pressing directly onto something unexpected.

I froze, my eyes widening. Asa, oblivious, started chatting with Mom again, her voice filling the car and the engine's hum. I tried to ignore the sudden throb, the heat building in my core. This was wrong. Asa was my little sister, off-limits in every sense of the word. But my body wasn't getting the memo. I tried to think of anything else, anything cold, anything that wasn't Asa's soft curves pressed against me.

But Asa shifted again, her head tilting slightly, her breath ghosting against my neck. I could feel her pulse, rapid and steady, against my chest. Her hair smelled like strawberries, a scent I hadn't noticed before. The car was suddenly stifling, the air thick with an unseen tension.

"Back off, Asa," I whispered, harsher than intended. She looked up at me, her eyes wide and innocent, but there was a flicker of something else, something that mirrored the heat I was feeling.

"Not until we get to the cabin," she whispered back, a small smile on her lips. She knew. She knew the effect she was having on me and wasn't stopping.

I leaned back, my eyes closed, trying to shut out the world. This was going to be a long drive.

I took out my phone, the screen casting a pale blue light in the dark car, and started scanning through my social media feeds—anything to distract myself from the warmth spreading through me, from Asa's weight on my lap. Asa, however, wasn't so eager to distract herself. She sat up slightly, her hands busy with her phone, but her body remained intentionally close.

"Hey, children." Dad's voice cut through my distraction. He might be looking in our direction even though the painting was blocking his view. “We're about to hit a bumpy road," he warned. “So, hold on to your seats."

I groaned internally. Hold on, like I wasn't already clinging to my sanity with Asa's butt on my throbbing erection. I tucked my phone away, bracing myself for the upcoming bumps. Asa looked at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief in the dim light. She knew. She knew exactly what she was doing to me.

The car hit the first bump, jostling us all. Asa's weight shifted forward, her bottom pressing harder against my lap. I sucked in a breath, my hips lifting slightly on their own accord, seeking more friction. Asa gasped, her head tilting back, her chest pressing against my hands that were gripping her hips.

"Asa," I hissed, my voice low and federated, "Stop moving."

But she didn't stop. She wiggled her hips slightly, her body soft and pliant against mine. "I-I can't help it," she stammered, but her voice was breathy and distinctly turned on. The road is so bumpy."

I could feel the heat radiating from her, could feel her heart pounding against mine. Mom and Dad focused on the road, not paying us any mind. I took a chance, my hands sliding up Asa's sides, my thumbs brushing against the underside of her breasts. She moaned loudly, and I froze, my eyes darting to the front of the car.

"Asa, is everything alright back there?" Mom asked, concern etched in her voice.

I could see Asa's face flush red, her eyes wide with surprise. "Y-Yeah, Mom," she stuttered, "Just, uh, the road is bumpy. It's uncomfortable."

I looked down at her, my eyes meeting hers. She was turned on. Her pupils dilated, her lips slightly parted. She was enjoying this, the friction, the heat, the risk. I could feel my shaft hardening even more, pressing painfully against my jeans. This was going to be a long, bumpy ride.

The car corrected its path, and the road was smooth beneath its tires. But my body was still alive with the memories of the bumpy ride, my belly a whirlwind of coiled tension. Asa, still perched on my lap, seemed equally affected. Her breaths were short and shallow, her body pressed flush against mine. My hands, which had stilled during the conversation with Mom, resumed their exploration, my thumbs tracing circles on her midriff.

"Are you okay?" I whispered, my voice hoarse with arousal. Asa nodded, her head tilting to give me better access to her neck. I took the invitation, my lips pressing against her soft skin, my tongue tasting the saltiness of her. Asa moaned softly, her body arching slightly, pushing her bottom further against my throbbing erection.

"You're untouched, aren't you?" I said, my voice laced with desire. Asa chuckled, a sound that was more of a pant. "What makes you think that?" she challenged. I took her jaw and tilted her head to look at me. Her eyes were pools of desire, her cheeks flushed with heat. "Because you're reacting like you've never been touched before," I said, my thumb brushing against her bottom lip.

Asa's eyes fluttered closed, her mouth opening slightly, inviting me in. But the honk of a passing car brought us back to reality. I pulled back, my chest heaving. This was dangerous, too risky. We were in the car with our parents, for goodness' sake. I wanted Asa, yes, but not like this, not here.

I took out my phone, unlocking it with shaky fingers. I opened a messaging app and started typing.

*Are you a virgin, Asa?*

I felt her shift slightly, her eyes moving to the screen. She took her phone out, her fingers flying over the screen. My phone buzzed with her reply.

*Why does that matter?*

I could feel the smile tugging at my lips. This was a dance, a game of cat and mouse. And I was enjoying it. I typed again.

*If you are, what happened in the car was highly inappropriate.*

I watched her read the message, and I saw the corners of her mouth twitch. She was enjoying this, too.

*Well, then, I guess I'm not a virgin. A cucumber claimed that honor long ago.*

I stared at the message, my brain processing the image that flashed through my mind. I could feel the heat in my core intensify, my shaft hardening painfully against my jeans. This did not help the situation.

I looked at Asa, her eyes twinkling with mischief. She knew what she was doing to me and was enjoying it. I leaned in, my lips brushing against her ear. "You're playing with fire, Asa," I warned. Her smile widened, her eyes sparkling with irrepressible joy.

"And you're just the man to put out the flames, aren't you?" she whispered back, her body moving slightly, her bottom rubbing against me. I groaned, my hands gripping her hips tightly, trying to keep her still. This would be a long drive, even with the smooth road. Because Asa had awoken something within me, something I wasn't sure I could put back to sleep.

I shifted beneath Asa, my body aching for release. I could feel her heat, her wetness seeping through my jeans, and it was driving me to the brink of insanity. I needed more, needed to touch her without the fabric barrier.

"Asa," I whispered, my hands moving to her thighs, "Lift your butt for a moment."

She looked at me, her eyes clouded with desire. She understood what I wanted, and she wanted it too. Slowly, she lifted her body, her hands gripping my shoulders for support. I moved quickly, unbuttoning my jeans and pushing them down, taking my underwear with them. Asa mirrored my actions, her shorts and underwear joining mine in a heap on the floor of the car.

When she lowered herself, her heat met mine, her wetness coating my shaft. She gasped, her eyes widening as she felt me, fully naked and hard, pressing against her. I slid my hand between us, gripping my shaft and aligning it with her entrance. I looked at her, seeking her consent, and she nodded, her eyes so intense I felt like drowning in them.

I pushed forward, my hips lifting as I slid my length into her tight, wet cunt. Asa's mouth opened in a silent scream as I filled her, her nails digging into my shoulders. I paused, giving her time to adjust, feeling the walls of her cunt pulsing around me.

"Is this okay?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. She nodded, her eyes closed, her body trembling. "I-I think so," she whispered back. "You're so big, it's... it's a lot."

I began to move, slowly, my hips rolling in a rhythm as old as time. Her tightness was exquisite, her body accepting mine with an almost overwhelming receptivity. I felt my shaft bump against her cervix, and she moaned softly, her head tilting back, exposing the long line of her neck.

I leaned in, my lips capturing the pulse point, my tongue tasting her skin. I wanted to mark her, so I tried to claim her as mine. She gasped, her hips moving, meeting mine thrust for thrust. Our bodies moved in a dance as old as time, our breaths mingling, our hearts beating in sync.

We stayed like that, moving slowly and quietly, our bodies speaking a language that needed no words. I could feel the tension building in my core, the heat spreading through my limbs. I was close, so close. But I didn't want it to end, didn't want this moment to be over.

I slid my hand between us, my fingers finding her clit, circling it in slow, steady movements. Asa's breath hitched, her body stiffening. I could feel her, her cunt pulsing around me, her body teetering on the edge. I wanted her to fall, wanted to give her this pleasure.

"Come for me, Asa," I whispered, my voice harsh with desire. And she did, her body convulsing, her cunt squeezing me so tightly I saw stars. I followed her over the edge, my body jerking as I filled her, my shaft pulsing with my release.

We stayed like that, our bodies connected, our breaths slowly returning to normal. I could feel the car moving beneath us, and I could hear the engine's hum, but all I could focus on was Asa, her body pressed against mine, her soft snores filling the car.

When she stirred, her eyes slowly opening, I leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, gentle kiss. "I love you, Asa," I whispered, my heart full. She smiled, her eyes soft, and whispered, "I love you too, Oppa."

And at that moment, everything was right in the world.

The car slowed down, Dad's voice cutting through the soft hum of the engine. "Alright, kids, we're approaching the tunnel. It's a bit of a mess due to some construction up ahead, so hold on. It might get loud and bumpy."

Asa's eyes met mine, a silent understanding passing between us. The dim glow of the setting sun casting shadows on her face heightened her features, making her look like a temptress. A sly smile curved her lips, and she turned, spinning around to face me, her knees resting on the seat beside my hips.

"What are you doing, Asa?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest.

"Shh, Oppa," she whispered back, placing a finger on my lips. "Dad said it's going to be loud, right? No one will hear us."

Her words sent a thrill down my spine, and my body was already reacting to her proximity. The car jolted slightly, signaling our entry into the tunnel. Darkness enveloped us, the only light coming from the dim glow of the car's dashboard. Asa leaned in, her lips finding mine. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, hungry and demanding.

I groaned, my hands moving to her hips, pulling her closer as she began to move, riding me like there was no tomorrow. Her breath hitched, her nails digging into my shoulders as she consumed me, her body moving in a frantic rhythm that matched the pounding of our hearts.

The tunnel was a symphony of sounds - the engine's hum, the construction's tap-tap-tap, our ragged breaths, and the soft, wet sounds of our bodies moving against each other. Asa's hands moved to the hem of her tank top, lifting it off her body swiftly. Her breasts, round and full, spilled out, her nipples hard and ready for my mouth.

I leaned down, capturing one of them, my tongue swirling around the hardening peak. Asa moaned, her hips moving faster, her body desperate for release. I could feel her, hot and wet around me, her body clenching tighter with each thrust. I switched to the other breast, my teeth grazing her nipple, making her gasp.

The car jostled again, the tunnel's construction creating unexpected bumps. Asa's body jerked, her nipple slipping out of my mouth. In my haste to reclaim it, my hand landed on the thin fabric of her tank top, ripping it in the process. Asa laughed, a throaty, wanton sound that went straight to my groin.

"I think you like destroying my clothes, Oppa," she teased, her fingers playing with the torn fabric.

"I think you like giving me reasons to," I countered, my hands moving to her breasts, my thumbs brushing against her nipples.

Asa's breath hitched, her body moving faster, her hips gyrating against me. I could feel the heat building in my core, the tension coiling tighter with each thrust. I moved my hands to her thighs, spreading them wider, pushing into her deeper. Asa moaned, her head tilting back, her hair cascading down her back.

The car hit a huge bump, and Asa's body spasmed, her orgasm ripping through her. I followed her over the edge, my body jerking as I filled her, my shaft pulsing with my release. The car emerged from the tunnel, the bright sunlight stinging our eyes, but all I could see was Asa, her body trembling with satisfaction, her eyes soft and loving.

"That was... intense," I said, my voice hoarse.

Asa smiled, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw. "It is, Oppa," she replied, her voice soft and sweet. And I knew, in that moment, that no matter what, our life would always be intense moving forward.

The sudden burst of daylight from the tunnel exit temporarily blinded us, but our bodies were still alight with the passion we'd ignited. As the car settled back onto the smooth road, I looked at Asa, her chest heaving, her nipples still hard and glistening from my mouth. I wanted more, needed more. I wanted to feel her lips wrapped around my shaft, wanted to hear the sounds she made as she took me in.

"Turn around," I commanded, my voice low and filled with desire. Asa's eyes widened, but she complied, quickly turning so that her head rested on my lap, her back pressed against the seat. I could feel the heat radiating from her, could feel her breath ghosting against my still-hard shaft.

"What are you going to do to me, Oppa?" she asked, her voice laced with anticipation. I smiled, my hands moving to her midriff, my thumbs tracing the curve of her belly.

"I'm going to worship you, Asa," I said, my voice filled with reverence. "I'm going to taste every inch of you."

Asa shifted slightly, her body twitching with anticipation. I started at her navel, my tongue dipping into the indentation, tracing the lines of her abs. Asa gasped, her body tensing as I moved lower, my lips kissing the soft skin just above her pelvis. I could feel her watching me, her eyes filled with desire and trust. I wanted to make this good for her, tried to make it unforgettable.

I moved my hands to her hips, my fingers digging into her soft flesh as I lifted her slightly, positioning her so that her mouth was now level with my throbbing shaft. Asa looked at me, her lips parting slightly, and I almost came undone. She looked like a goddess, a temptress offering herself to me.

"Take me, Asa," I whispered, my voice harsh with desire. She leaned in, her tongue flicking out, licking the bead of pre-cum at my tip. I groaned, my hips jerking forward, seeking more. Asa smiled, her lips wrapping around my shaft, taking me in.

I nearly lost it. Her mouth was hot and wet, her tongue swirling around me, tasting me. I gritted my teeth, trying to hold back and make this last. I moved my hands to her breasts, pinching her nipples, making her moan around my shaft. The vibrations sent shockwaves through me, and I had to grip her hips to steady myself.

I moved my mouth lower, my tongue diving between her folds, tasting her. She was sweet, like honey, her body hot and wet and eager for me. I slid my tongue into her, feeling her body clench around me. Asa's movements on my shaft faltered, her body tensing as I pleasured her. I felt a thrill at being able to bring her to the edge of oblivion with just my mouth.

Suddenly, Asa's body jerked, her mouth slipping off my shaft as she gasped. I looked up, following her gaze, and saw a truck approaching. The driver had his eyes wide and his mouth open in shock as he took in the scene playing out in the backseat of our car. Asa and I froze, our eyes locked with the driver's as the truck passed.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Then, Asa burst into laughter, her body shaking with mirth. "Did you see his face?" she giggled, her body shaking against mine. I chuckled, my hands moving to her thighs, gripping them tightly.

"Looks like we put on quite the show," I said, my voice filled with amusement. Asa looked at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Let's give him an encore," she said, her mouth wrapping around my shaft again, her hands gripping the base tightly. I groaned, my hips lifting, thrusting my shaft deeper into her mouth.

I was close, my body tensing as I felt the heat building in my core. I wanted to come on her, mark her as mine. I moved my hands to her belly, my fingers splayed out as I felt her body clench around mine. She pulled my shaft out of her mouth, my hand wrapping around it, pumping it furiously. Asa watched me, her eyes wide and eager, her tongue sticking out, ready to catch my release.

I came with a groan, my body jerking as I spilled my seed onto her belly, coating her skin with my warmth. Asa's tongue darted out, licking the cum from her lips, her eyes never leaving mine. I smiled, my hand moving to her thigh, spreading the rest of my release onto her skin.

When the truck driver passed us again, this time going the other way, I turned, catching his eye. He quickly looked away, but not before I saw the smile tugging at his lips. I winked at him, then turned back to Asa, my hands moving to her face, cupping her cheeks.

"I can’t believe a KPOP idol is mine," I whispered, my lips capturing hers in a deep, passionate kiss. And I knew, as we pulled away from each other, our bodies satiated and our hearts content, that this was just the beginning.

As the car pulled into the cabin's driveway, Asa and I looked at each other, silently understanding. Our taboo relationship was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

[aquarius-johnny]

“tats & tulips” | johnny suh

𝜗𝜚 genre: fluff, soft smut/suggestive | wc: 7k | au: strangers to lovers 𝜗𝜚 pairing: tattoo artist! johnny x afab florist! reader 𝜗𝜚 warnings: mutual masturbation (like quick mention), other names included for writing purposes, other members mentioned (yuta), full sleeve tatted johnny, he’s also shy and slightly awkward and artistic 𝜗𝜚 summary: a love story between an ‘intimidating’ tattoo artist and the ‘preppy’ florist who just so happens to have their shops next to each other. 𝜗𝜚 aimee's thoughts 💭 : i’m fully aware of johnny having tattoos, but i imagine him to be fully tattooed in this fic. requested by @lovesuhng 𐙚

check out my other work here! → m.list navi

When your family business got passed down to you to run, a part of you couldn’t be happier. Sure, you ventured off to do other things in the time being, but to come back and be part of the floral shop your late grandmother graciously raised you in, it truly felt like your life had come full circle. 

Adjusting the vases to your liking, your employee, Hana, makes her way to the display window — something you notice she does at the same time, every day. “Looking for someone?” You playfully tease as you make your way to her, scanning the outside of your shop. 

“You haven’t met the tattooists next door, have you?” She smirks. 

“No, I have not. Why?” You look at her suspiciously.

She smiles. “There’s this specific artist. I see him every morning and it brightens my day even when he’s quite the opposite,” she jokingly retorts. “He’s intimidating, like really intimidating. He’s tall, tattoos all over his arms from what I can see, definitely seems like the brooding bad boy type of guy, rarely seen him smile, but he’s oh so cute.”

“Ah, so we have a brewing crush don’t we?” You giggle, before gently pulling her away from the window to which she gladly follows you.

“Not a crush,” she shakes her head. “He’s more like eye candy. I don’t see myself dating someone so brooding like him. But seeing him made coming to work a little easier…before you came, obviously.” She nudges your arm. 

“And yet, you’re still searching for him?” You chuckle as you watch Hana’s cheeks blush in embarrassment. 

“Force of habit.” She giggles. “You’re single, right? He seems to be around your age.” Hana smirks.

“Alright that’s enough from you. Go and get ready for opening,” you playfully scold with a gentle tap to her arm.

Hana scurries off to the back room while you set out more pottery displays near the front entrance. As you stand near the display window, you feel the warmth of the sun shine through before disappearing behind a temporary cloud. 

You see a car drive into an empty parking spot across the street. A tall man, dressed in head to toe black clothing, steps out of the driver’s seat. He throws a backpack over a shoulder and pushes the sleeves of his black cardigan up to his elbows, exposing his heavily tattooed forearms. When he makes it to the edge of the sidewalk, you both make eye contact with each other before he turns his attention away — eyes refocusing on the tattoo shop he was entering.

Hana meets you by the window and lets out a disappointed groan. “Dammit, I missed him.” She pouts. “Did you see him?”

You nod, clearing your throat. “Yeah. I can definitely see what you mean when you say seeing him makes your day.” 

Hana stifles her laughter. “Come on,” she nudges you. “It’s time to open.”

The first few weeks of business went extremely well as the profits slowly made up for the loss from previous management. 

As you and Hana, along with another new employee you hired named Wren, get ready for the day, you allow Hana to take the new employee under her wing for training while you water the white tulips in its planter outside the display window. Wren and Hana join you, finishing everything needed inside. 

“There he is,” Hana harshly whispers, pulling Wren’s arm. You turn in the direction she’s looking in to find the mysterious tattooed man emerging out of his car. “He opens today and tomorrow.” She giddily remarks.

“I see she’s told you about her little dose of serotonin every morning, huh?” You look at Wren who giggles. 

“She kept telling me I needed to see how attractive he is,” Wren rolls her eyes. 

You turn your back towards the tattoo shop, reaching over to water the flowers behind the two younger girls. 

“What do you think?” Hana whispers, careful not to let him hear or notice they were talking to him. 

“He looks scary,” Wren replies. “Like he looks like he’d break your heart if you gave him a chance. But he is attractive for sure. I can see why you look forward to seeing him.” 

“Not your type?” Hana asks Wren, who glances over towards the direction of the tattoo shop where the tall man is near the  front entrance. 

“Not my type,” Wren replies. “But it seems like our boss might be his.” She whispers quickly before turning around as Hana looks at him.

You’re too busy and preoccupied to notice how the mystery tattoo artist fiddles with his keys a little longer than usual. He quickly steals glances at your attire, eyes wandering up and down your body before he notices your hair is done up into a new hairstyle. When he finally opens up the front door to the tattoo shop, he shuts it behind him before letting out a small sigh. 

When you’re done watering your pride and joy, Hana begins to tap you on your shoulder. You look at her to see a wide smile on her face.

“He was totally checking you out.” Hana gushes. 

“You’re just seeing things,” you rationalize, heading back into your shop to put away the watering can. Both Wren and Hana follow closely behind you.

“Oh come on! Whenever he goes for lunch, he always passes by and I see him try to hide the fact he’s looking in.”

You open your mouth to defend him, but she shushes you.

“He’s never done that before. The past five years I’ve been here, he’s never been this interested in the shop but he suddenly is when he sees who our new boss is?” Hana reports. “Can’t be a coincidence.”

Wren nods her head, approving of Hana’s observations before giggling.

“Maybe he’s surprised with how much the shop has changed?” You move from behind the counter where Hana moves toward you. She opens her mouth to say something before you stop her. “Anyway, it’s time to open,” you smile. “I’ll be in my office!”

You take a deep breath, grab your belongings, and step out of your car. Closing the distance between you and the tattoo shop, you feel your nerves heighten when you step into the space.

The buzzing of needles and laughter fill the room. Another tattooed man greets you from behind the counter, recognizing you from the shop next door. 

“Hey, you work next door right?” He asks with a smile. You feel eyes on you, seeing a few employees lift their heads to get a look at you. 

“Mhm,” you nod.

“You work for…” He snaps his fingers, trying to remember the old manager’s name before you swiftly cut him off.

“No. It’s my shop, actually. Family business and all that stuff,” you smile.

“Nice!” He grins. “Thank god the guy isn’t there anymore, he was a massive dick.”

You can’t help but giggle at his comment. 

The tall, good looking, and mysterious tattoo artist emerges from a back room, quickly catching your attention. When you catch his, his brows lift in surprise before quickly turning his back to you — refocusing his attention on the needed items for his next client.

“I’m Yuta, by the way. Thought I’d introduce myself since we’re neighbors.” He turns to name the other employees working before he lands on the tall man who caught your attention. “And that’s Johnny. He owns the shop.” 

You smile at his kindness, easing your nerves a little before you tell him your name. 

“You have an appointment, right? I think I saw your name in our system.” His eyes quickly scan the computer screen in front of him, searching for your name. “Okay, yeah, I found it. Johnny will be working on you today.” 

You quickly thank him before taking a seat on the black sofa against the wall. You see Yuta playfully nudge the guy you’ve been checking out for the past few months before your tattooed crush nudges him back, seeing a glimpse of a smile dance on his lips.

Looking at the full length mirror on the opposite wall from you, you realize how much you stand out against the darker walls. You scan your white tennis shoes that’s paired with your light green pleated mini skirt and white camisole top that’s under your light green cardigan. 

You hear your name and you look up at your tattoo artist standing behind the counter. “Come on back,” he smiles, tilting his head towards his work area. 

Your heart pounds against your chest as you get up. You follow him, scanning his tall frame up and down before he turns around to face you.

“Have a seat,” he gestures. He sits on a rolling stool and places himself in front of you. “I’m Johnny, by the way. You work next door, right? I don’t think we ever met.” He extends his hand for you to shake.

You grab his hand, giving him a soft smile. “Yeah, I do.” Your hold lingers a little longer than it usually would before you pull back. “It’s nice to finally put a name to a face.”

Johnny shyly looks down, chuckling at your comment. Grabbing his iPad, he pulls up the reference photo you sent in. 

You both discuss the intricacies of your tattoo, adjusting the image to your liking before he walks you through the process and has you sign consent forms.

“Where do you want it?” Johnny asks, his eye contact causing heat to flush against your cheeks. 

You quickly remove your cardigan and point to your inner forearm. 

He quickly stencils the medium sized design that starts at your wrist and runs up your entire forearm. He gets your approval of the placement before beginning the fairly lengthy process. 

“Let me know if you need a break,” he softly says before the vibrations of the needle is heard — adding to the other noises that filled the room. 

As the needle punctures your skin, your mind strays away from the pain and instead notices the way Johnny’s gloved fingers press against your soft skin and how you could feel his breath as he moves closer to your body. You feel your heart race being so close to him. 

When the needle moves over tender spots, Johnny notices the way your body tenses. 

“Try to relax,” he softly, but sternly instructs. “You’re doing a great job so far.”

You feel your stomach do backflips at his words.

“Sorry,” you mumble. 

“So, tell me.” Johnny clears his throat, eyes still fixed on the lines of the stencil. “What made you want to work at a flower shop? I’m assuming you love flowers?” He questions, referring to the intricate design that includes flowers.

“My grandma opened up the flower shop next door, so I grew up in it while my parents were at work. She taught me about different flowers and even taught me how to customize a bouquet,” you giggle, seeing the corner of Johnny’s mouth lift into a smile after hearing your laugh. “My grandma told me that flowers make people better and happier, like it’s medicine for the soul and it stuck with me. I saw flowers differently growing up and I wanted to do something that genuinely makes me happy, hence becoming a florist. When she passed, my mom couldn’t run the shop with her job so she hired someone else to do it and that new manager took what my grandma built and ruined it. So, I finished up getting my business degree and my mom passed the shop down to me.”

Johnny lifts his head to quickly look at you. “I think your grandma was right.” He nods. “You’re also doing great keeping your grandma’s legacy intact.”

“Thank you,” you shyly reply. “So tell me, what made you want to open your own shop instead of working for someone else?”

Johnny gives you a chuckle. “Honestly?” He smiles before returning to your design.

“Yes, honestly.”

“It was a compromise I made with my mom. She wasn’t the biggest fan of me becoming a tattoo artist, so she said that if I major in business while in university, then she’ll get off my back.”

“Did she?”

“No,” Johnny laughs. “She then said to put my degree to use. She probably meant to get into some boring corporate job, but I opened this shop instead.”

“Has she finally gotten off your back?” You giggle.

“Kinda,” he smiles, slightly shaking his head. “She still isn’t used to me being covered in tattoos, but she understands how much I love what I do, so that’s enough.”

After a few hours, the studio was cleared out of clients. During your session, Johnny’s employees let him know they were leaving, eventually leaving you two alone in the shop.

He finishes up, reminding you of the aftercare process, and you both walk over to the front counter. 

“Sorry I made you stay past closing,” you apologize, preparing your payment method. 

“You’re good, sometimes it happens.” Johnny grins, presenting you with the service amount, causing you to question how low the payment amount is. 

“I expected to pay more,” you furrow your brows a bit, looking up at Johnny who raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh, uh,” he chuckles. “Think of it as a discount for other shop owners.” 

“You don’t need to do that.” Your eyes soften at his words, unknowingly making his knees weak.

“Perks of being the owner,” he shyly smiles, biting his bottom lip nervously.

“Thank you.” You tap your card against the card reader. “Are you leaving after this?”

“Gotta close up first. Probably gonna grab dinner then head home. You?” He pauses, realizing you are in fact going to leave after this. “I mean, do you have any plans after this?” You see his cheeks burn a rosy pink flush.

“Probably just grab dinner and head home too,” you nod. Your mind races as you debate on whether or not to invite him to get dinner with you. “Actually, there’s a restaurant a few stores down. If you want, we can get something to eat, my treat. A way for me to make up for making you stay here so late.” You suddenly feel heat run under your skin. “If not, I totally understand.” You stammer over your words. “It’s late and you probably already had a really long day.” 

“I don’t mind,” Johnny chuckled, lifting his hand to the back of his neck. “Give me like 15 minutes to clean and close up.” 

“Take your time,” you nod. “I’m gonna go quickly check on my employees next door. I’ll meet you outside?”

Johnny nods. He nearly stumbles over a chair behind him when he walks backward before he catches himself, shyly turning away from you to cover his embarrassment only to be betrayed by the way his ears flush a red tint. 

You quietly laugh to yourself and quickly disappear into your shop, your employees shocked to see you. 

“Hey, I knew that was your car I saw when I came back from lunch,” Hana says, wiping down the clear glass table and closing up for the night. 

Wren emerges from the back room and greets you with the same shock as Hana did. 

“I got my tattoo done next door,” you share, trying to keep your excitement contained. “Your eye candy has a name and it’s Johnny. He’s the owner of the shop.”

“Was he the one who did your tattoo?” Wren questions, restocking some of the pottery items that sold out during the day.

You nod, earning a squeal from both of them. “I’m actually going to that restaurant a few stores down for dinner with him.” You share. “But it is not a date.” You playfully point at Hana who you could already see going on and on about it being a date.

Before they can respond, a knock on the entrance door is heard. You turn to see Johnny wave at you with a kind smile, letting you know he was ready to go.

“That’s the first time I saw him smile!” Hana shares through clenched teeth, thankful for the four walls that made Johnny blissfully unaware that you were all talking about him. 

“I gotta go.” You make your way to the door, opening it, and turning to wave the girls goodbye.

“Have fun!” Hana and Wren shouts, earning a small wave from Johnny who is silently thanking them for letting him steal you away from the conversation.

“That was fast. Must be really hungry, huh?” You playfully comment that earns another shy smile from him. 

He sticks his hands into the pockets of his black cardigan. “Yuta actually did everything else, I just had to clean and lock up.” You feel his arm brush against yours, realizing you both were a lot closer to each other than you thought you were. “I’m sorry if I interrupted the conversation you were having. I didn’t mind waiting.”

“You’re fine,” you smile up at him. “Just wanted to see how the day went, that’s all.”

Johnny holds the door open for you when you both reach the restaurant. You’re greeted by a hostess who quickly seats both of you. 

You grab a menu that’s laid on the table before watching Johnny push up the sleeves of his cardigan, exposing his sleeve of tattoos on his forearms before picking up the menu for himself.

“Any tattoos you have that you’ve done yourself?” You ask, eyeing his arms. 

He looks down, smiling to himself. Setting down the menu. “There’s this one,” he says, showing you a simple ace of spades card tattoo. “And this one.” He points to another small tattoo of a ramen bowl with noodles and chopsticks. 

“Cute,” you giggle. “Your girlfriend must really love your tattoos, huh?”

Johnny picks up the menu again, scanning through it. “I’d hope so,” he pauses.

Your heart quickly falls to the pit of your stomach, suddenly feeling foolish for thinking he was single.

“If I had one.” He continues, one finger tapping against the menu before he closes it, assuming he’s finally decided on what to order. “I don’t date much.” 

“Oh?” Your surprised tone makes Johnny lift his gaze to meet yours. “By choice?”

“I guess you can say that,” he softly chuckles. “I’ve been told that I’m unapproachable, so I guess women don’t come up to me a lot.”

When you finally decide on what to order, you stack your menu on top of his. “You don’t ever make the first move?” You question before taking a sip of water.

“No, not really.” He clears his throat. “I guess if I really like someone, then yeah I’ll make the effort, but if I’m being completely honest with you, I’m really shy when it comes to things like that.”

The surprised look on your face catches his attention.

“Does my shyness surprise you?”Johnny chuckles in amusement, slightly cocking his head to the side, leaning into the backrest of his chair.

“Yeah, kind of? You’re just really intimidating,” you softly let out, leaning onto the table, elbows and arms resting on the table top. “I don’t think you being shy would be my first thought when looking at you.”

“What were your first thoughts of me?” He asks curiously.

You shake your head, a cheeky grin appearing. You definitely aren’t sharing the thoughts you had when you first saw him, so instead you keep it general. “I mistook your shyness for aloofness,” you share. 

He smiles, looking down at his fingers before  mimicking your body language. “I should probably fix all of that, right? If I want to get a girlfriend.”

“I don’t think so,” you shake your head. “It’s not a problem, you just have to find someone who can get through that tough looking facade. I have a feeling you’re gentle and sweet, so I don’t think it’ll be hard for you to get a girlfriend just by being you.”

The waitress stops by to take your order, pausing your conversation for a moment. When she walks away, you catch Johnny looking at you.

“You think your boyfriend is gonna like your tattoo?” He asks, glancing down at your index finger tapping against the table top. 

“I’m sure he would,” you pause, taking a sip of water. “If he existed. Like yourself, I don’t date much either.”

“Why not?” Johnny questions, attempting to hide his shock.

“Honestly? People don’t really ask me out.” You chuckle, pushing the sleeves up to your elbows. “I don’t think I catch people’s attention,” you giggle. 

“I’m sure you catch people’s attention.” He gives you a bashful smile. “Maybe they’re just too shy to say anything.”

Since dinner, you and Johnny have been more friendly when you see each other. 

You find yourself near the display window whenever it’s near Johnny’s lunch break just so you catch his attention, making him give you a small smile and wave when he sees you. While Johnny always makes sure to grab something to eat at the bakery that is a few stores down from your shop, so he could see you even if just for a moment when he passes by. 

“I’m going on break,” you tell Hana who nods as she greets a customer who regularly comes by the shock.

You walk over a few stores down to the bakery you always go to. The aroma of freshly baked goods makes your mouth water. As you’re waiting in line, you feel a presence behind you. 

“Hey,” the familiar voice says, bending forward towards your ear.

You turn to see your tattoo artist, sporting him wearing the black cardigan he loves to wear but this time with a white t-shirt underneath. “Hey Johnny,” you smile, turning your attention back to the moving line.

“What’re you getting?” He asks, standing next to you. He looks at the menu above the workers, deciding on what to get. 

You tell him your go-to order before you watch him nod his head. 

“How’s your tattoo healing, by the way?”

“Really well,” you proudly smile, lifting your cardigan sleeve to show him your forearm. “See?”

“Yeah, looks good.” He smiles down at you, but you’re too busy admiring your tattoo.

You both step forward as the line moves and the cashier greets both of you. 

Johnny orders for you and him, swiftly pulling his phone out to pay for the pastries. “Could you bag those separately, please?” He asks the woman in front of him who simply nods. 

“You didn’t have to,” you nudged his arm with yours. “But thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiles, nudging your arm back. “Are you heading back after this?” He asks, waiting for the baked goods.

“I was actually going to stay for a bit. What about you?”

“I was planning on staying, too.” He grins, extending his hand out to grab the paper bags filled with pastries and iced coffees he ordered. “Can I join you?” 

“Of course,” you giggle, leading him to an empty table. He takes a look into the bags, giving you the pastries that you ordered along with the iced coffee you wanted.

You both talk about your day before laughing and giggling when one of your pastries is almost stolen by a passing baby in a stroller. The child’s mother profusely apologizes for her child’s curiosity, only to have the toddler give you a gummy smile. 

You don’t notice how Johnny looks at your interaction with the child. His eyes sparkle when he smiles, admiring your playful demeanor around the kid and the calm demeanor with the mom. He watches you wave goodbye to the child who squeals in excitement as they leave the bakery. You miss the opportunity to see him admiring you — this time, right in front of him.

You both finish eating before walking back to your respective shops together. You stop in front of yours. Before you could thank him for paying for your lunch again, he asks if he could ask you something.

“Sure,” you nod. “What is it?”

“I know you're busy and I probably should’ve asked sooner, but do you think you could make me a bouquet of flowers? It’s my mom’s birthday today.”

“Ah! This is why you bought me lunch today,” you playfully remark. “Butter me up before asking me for a favor.” 

“Damn, you read me like a book.” Johnny giggles, playing along.

“Yeah, I can definitely make one for your mom.” You smile. “Any flowers in particular she likes?” 

“Sunflowers and tulips.” 

“When do you want to pick it up?”

“Think it can be done by 4? I’m leaving a little before the shop closes for the day.”

“Yeah, for sure.” You smile. “I’ll see you around 4. Thanks for the treats, again.” You wave him goodbye and head into the store.

“Pretty,” Hana smiles as she looks at the vase of flowers, meeting you behind the counter.

“Thank you,” you smile. “Johnny asked if I could make it for his mom’s birthday.” 

Hana playfully gushes, nudging you in the arm with her elbow. “Speak of the devil.” She smirks, eyeing the entrance where Johnny walks in. 

The colors of your shop's wall contrast heavily against the dark clothes Johnny wears. 

He radiates a bright smile upon seeing you as he makes his way to the front counter. 

“Wow,” he grins. “So pretty.” 

Hana glances over at your interaction with Johnny. She quickly notes the way he looks at you when he compliments you only to notice that you were looking at the flowers — her heart screaming out in frustration that you missed his compliment.

“Here, write a quick note to your mom.” You slide a small card with a pen in his direction. He pushes his sleeves up his arms before writing a quick note. 

Pulling out an already prepped gift bag from under the counter, you place it next to the vase. 

Johnny slides you the note and you carefully place it between the plastic card holder that’s in the middle of the bouquet. 

“I also added one of our best selling ceramic cups for her as a little gift from us.” You smile, sliding the items towards him.

“That’s very kind of you.” He smiles, watching as you fiddle with your register. 

You show him his total cost, watching him knit his eyebrows together in confusion. “I expected to pay more,” he giggles, repeating the same comment you made when you got your tattoo.

“Think of it as a discount for other shop owners,” you tease.

“I can pay for it in full. I made you do it last min-”

You cut him off. “Perks of being the owner, right?” You giggle.

Johnny quickly accepts defeat and pays. He grabs the vase and gift bag, then proceeds to walk away only to stop in his tracks. He hesitates for a moment before turning to face you again. 

“There’s another thing I want to ask you,” he softly lets out, setting down the items back onto the counter.

“Need another bouquet?”

He softly giggles and shakes his head. “Are you free Friday night?” He nervously bites down on his bottom lip. 

“Yeah.” You slowly nod your head. 

“Do you maybe wanna go see a movie with me?” He pauses. “Like on a date?”

Your brows lift in surprise. “Yeah, I’d love to,” you smile, feeling your heart swell tenfold. You watch a sense of relief wash over his face, confidence quickly returning to his tall frame.

“Great,” he grins. “Can I get your number?” He pulls his phone out and hands it to you to input your number. 

You hand his phone back to him after saving your number in his contacts before leading him out, opening the door for him. 

“Thanks,” he grins. “I’ll call you.”

During the movie, you watch Johnny’s fingers tap against his dark colored jeans as he bounces his knee. 

“Nervous?” You lean over to whisper in his ear.

“Maybe a little,” he weakly grins. He sharply inhales, trying to calm his nerves. “Sorry, I’m distracting you.”

You reach over, gently grabbing his hand and interlocking your fingers between his. “Better?” You smile, shifting your body to rest your head on his broad shoulder.

He quickly relaxes, tightening his grip on your hand. “Much better.” He gently rests his cheek against you.

You stroke your thumb over his hand as you refocus on the big screen. A few minutes later, your attention is pulled away when Johnny softly whispers your name. 

“Hm?” You lift your head to look at him. You could feel the air thicken around the two of you.

Tension builds when his hand gently cups the side of your neck and your lips part at his touch. Your heart thumps hard against your chest. He leans into you and his lips gently press against yours. A spark in your stomach ignites and you feel nothing but pure bliss. You move your soft lips with his, feeling him deepening the kiss before slowly pulling away. 

Johnny tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before kissing you again, this time, slowly delving his tongue into your mouth and gently rolling it over yours. Your hands grip onto his shirt, pulling on it to keep him close to you. He tugs on your bottom lip as he pulls away, causing your stomach to flutter immensely and leaving you breathless.

“Do you still wanna watch the movie?” He whispers, stroking his thumb against your cheek, his lips just centimeters away from yours. “We can grab something to eat and head back to my place instead.”

“After you,” you quickly reply.

Johnny chuckles. He quickly finds your hand, leading you out of the theater and back to his car.

You unbuckle your seatbelt when you arrive at his apartment building after grabbing a pizza of your choice. Your hand reaches to open the passenger car door until Johnny gently grabs your hand.

“Just so you know, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Please don’t feel like we need to do anything other than hang out.” His reassurance lifts a weight off your shoulders. 

“Thank you for saying that,” you smile. 

You follow him up to his apartment. Settling in his living room, he places the pizza box onto the coffee table and grabs paper plates from his kitchen cabinet while you wash up in his bathroom. You join him on the sofa, grabbing the plate with a slice of pizza on it that Johnny hands you. 

“Can I ask you something?” You ask Johnny, who leans his back against the sofa’s armrest with his legs pressed against his chest. You mimic his seating position on the opposite end of the sofa. 

“Sure,” he takes a bite of his pizza. 

“So, what made you want to ask me out?” 

He nearly chokes on his food before washing it down with his drink, clearly finding your question unexpected. 

You give him a moment to recollect himself while giggling at his reaction. 

“I, um,” he stammers. “I enjoyed our conversation we had over dinner that day you got your tattoo.” He shyly smiles. 

“Oh?” You grin. “Why did it take you so long? It’s been like two months since then.” 

“I wasn’t sure if you were interested. Like I told you that night, I don’t usually ask people out.” He blushes at you. “Speaking of that day, can I admit something?” 

You nod, taking a bite of your food. 

“I was surprised you came into the shop when you did.” He bites back a laugh before swallowing. 

Your brows shoot up in shock. “Why’s that?” You cock your head to the side, a smile lifting from the corners of your mouth.

“You don’t look like someone who would get a tattoo.”

“There’s a specific look?” You tease.

“No, no,” he giggles. “You just look like someone who wouldn’t want one or didn’t care to get one. I guess I didn’t expect you to see you and talk to you that day either.” 

“But you’re glad I came in?” 

“Definitely,” he lightly chuckles before taking a sip of his drink. 

“I’m glad I did too,” you take another bite. “I’m able to get to know you and I got the tattoo I’ve always wanted. It’s a win-win situation for me, really.” 

“Any more questions you wanna ask?” He teases.

You ponder his question, thinking of something to ask. You nod your head when you finally think of a question. “Can I see your sketchbook?” You ask, sweetly.

“How do you know I have a sketchbook?”

“Before I got my tattoo, I would see you at the bakery on your lunch breaks with it. I’ve always wanted to see it.”

“Oh? So you’ve been watching me?” He teases, placing his slice of pizza onto his plate on the coffee table. “Let me go grab it.” He disappears into another room and returns with a black sketchbook in his hand.

You extend your hand out as Johnny hands it to you. You reposition yourself so you’re leaning your back on the backrest of the sofa. 

Opening up the sketchbook, you excitedly flip through the pages in awe. Johnny takes a seat next to you, sinking into the sofa.

His sketchbook is full of potential tattoo designs and little doodles that he drew that you recognize he has tattooed on his arms. You lightly graze the coffee stains that paint some corners of the pages, knowing he probably spilled some of his coffee on it while he was on break. You eventually come across portraits he’s drawn of random people. 

“I didn’t know you drew portraits,” you look up at him who shyly looks away when you catch him staring at you. You wrap your arm around his bicep, resting your head onto his shoulder, finding it adorable when he gets shy around you.

“It’s not something I’m super confident in, so I don’t tell people.” He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

“These are really good though,” you praise. “Do you just draw random people you see?”

“Only ones that spark some emotion.” 

He points to his drawing of an old man having coffee by himself and holding a letter in his hand. “He used to come to a cafe with an old lady every weekend and one weekend, he came alone.” Then he points to a drawing of a little boy with tears brimming his eyes. “He fell and ran to his dad because he scraped his elbow.” And points again to a drawing of the side profile of a girl. “I just thought she looked lonely.” 

“These are all sad pictures,” you let out. 

“It was all I really noticed at the time,” he shrugged.

You flip the page and scan more beautiful drawings. As you’re about to turn the page again, Johnny tugs on the book, swiftly pulling it away from you.

“I think that’s enough,” he nervously chuckles, getting up from his seat.

“Wait,” you pout. “But I wanted to see more. They’re really good.” 

Johnny hesitates. 

“I’m not here to judge it, I find your work incredible.” You tug on his arm, urging him to sit back down. “Please?”

He slowly sits back down and gives it back and you flip back to the page you were on. “Thank you,” you smile, repositioning your arm around his bicep again. 

Turning the page, you find portraits of you that fill two pages. One of them is a drawing of you holding a bouquet of flowers behind what looks like your store’s display window — presumably the same day you first saw Johnny. There’s another portrait of you watering flowers with sketches of tulips next to it. 

“Have you been a secret admirer of mine?” You tease playfully, feeling his body move as he chuckled. 

Your fingers brush over another drawing of you sipping on your iced coffee as you look at your phone. You flip the page again and see another drawing of you eating a bowl of ramen with the same outfit you wore the night you had dinner with Johnny. 

You continue flipping the pages before eventually coming to a blank page. Closing the sketchbook, you carefully hand it back to him who places it on the coffee table in front of you. 

He turns his entire body to face you. 

“You’re really talented,” you smile. “But I’m just a little confused.” 

“About?”

“You said you draw portraits that ignite some kind of emotion right? The drawings of me didn’t look like it invoked any emotions, it’s just things that I do like drink coffee or watering plants.” You laugh, holding Johnny’s hand in yours. 

“It might not seem like it, but it does.” He lifts your hand to his lips, giving the back of your hand a tender kiss. “I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a really long time.” 

“Felt what?” You smirk, fully knowing what he was talking about. 

Johnny shakes his head, biting his bottom lip with a smile across his face. “I like you.” He admits. “I hope that’s okay. I’m not entirely sure if I’m your type b-” 

You cleanly cut him off. “You’re exactly my type,” you grin. “And for what it’s worth, I like you, too.” 

Johnny leans in to give you a soft kiss on your forehead. Silence falls between you for a moment. “It’s getting late,” he lets out. “I should get you home.” He cups your cheek with his hand and strokes your skin with his thumb. You give his palm a gentle kiss. 

“I don’t wanna go home,” you wearily let out. 

Johnny’s eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise at your words — you would miss it if you weren’t looking right at him. “Do you wanna stay the night?” He asks, heart beating against his chest, nervously awaiting your answer. 

“Yes.”

You both lay in Johnny’s bed, lips moving in sync with each other’s as his hand explores your body. His lips move to the crook of your neck, swiping his tongue against your skin before sucking it into his mouth. 

“Remember when you said we didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to do?” You question. 

He lifts his head and nods.

“Would it still be okay if I did want to do something?” 

“Only if it’s something you really want to do,” he clarifies, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “There’s no rush, really.” 

“I want to,” you shyly let out, feeling a hint of embarrassment. “Do you?”

He nods and begins peppering kisses against your heated cheek before capturing your lips once again. Smoothly removing his shirt, your eyes scan the tattoos inked onto his right side of his chest as he hovers over you. 

Your hands cup the sides of his neck, pulling him down to your lips. A low groan is heard from Johnny before he removes his sweatpants, kicking the fabric to the side. 

Quickly sitting up, you lift your arms as he helps you remove your top, allowing the fabric to fall onto the bedroom floor as Johnny presses his soft lips against your collarbone, causing you to fall onto your back again. You undo your jeans and Johnny helps you remove them, throwing it to the side. 

“You’re sure about this?” Johnny questions. 

“More than sure,” you smile, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

Johnny carefully removes the fabric covering your core, leaving you completely naked underneath him. He gently strokes your slit, feeling your body tingle under his touch as he coats his finger with your arousal. A quiet moan parts your lips, earning a little smile from him. 

Dipping into his underwear, you gently tug on his shaft. He quickly removes the only fabric he has on, his erection more prominent than ever. Licking your hand, you slowly stroke his length, watching him bite back a moan — his jaw falls open when you rub your thumb over his sensitive tip.

“I want you now,” you softly beg. 

He leans over to his nightstand, pulling a condom out of the drawer before sliding it on. Aligning himself with your entrance, you feel his tip slowly dip inside of you. 

You bite down on your bottom lip as you feel the stretch. Your fingers dig crescent shaped indents into his biceps as he sinks deeper into you. 

Johnny gently moves deeper with every stroke until he’s completely inside of you. He keeps his sights on you, watching your body move up and down with every deep, slow, and sensual thrust. 

You’re inched closer and closer to your climax as Johnny’s tip hits that sensitive spot in you. He swallows your moans as he kisses you before you wrap your arms around his neck and press the heel of your feet against his lower back, keeping him as close to him as possible. 

He’s timing his orgasm with yours, wanting to make sure you reach your climax before he does. 

Your nails dig into his shoulders, your back arches, and sweet melodic moans fill his room when your orgasm overtakes your body. Johnny releases into the condom right after you — helping you through your ecstasy as his thick ropes fill up the latex. 

He kisses you, hard. “Are you okay?” He asks, concerned. The weight of his body on top of you warms your naked body as he tries to catch his breath for a moment before slowly pulling himself out of you. 

“I’m great,” you weakly grin. “Are you okay?”

He chuckles, sharply inhaling before another soft laugh leaves his lips. “I’m good.” He removes the condom and tosses it into his trash bin. “Should we wash up before calling it a night?” Johnny stands at the edge of his bed, extending his hand out for you to grab.

You take his hand and he leads you to his bathroom, helping you wash up before heading to bed. You’re cuddled next to him and feel his large hand stroke your back. You lay your head on his chest with your eyes closed, slowly falling asleep to his heartbeats.

Johnny kisses your forehead tenderly. “Good night, baby. See you in the morning.”

[neon-delirium]

a warning in this story for dog bites and hospitals but I promise it's very funny and has a good ending

so when I was 6 years old in first grade my school tested every class for spelling bee candidates using spelling tests and my hyperlexic autistic ass got a perfect score and was selected to do a spelling bee and I was absolutely so hype about it. I would be able to show how smart I was as an eager little tiny me and I was just so happy that when I went home I decided to play horsie riding my dog. this was a Mistake

my poor old dog who I'm gonna call opera for privacy reasons had a bad back but otherwise would never hurt a fly and every time I tried to ride her she would just push me off and move until I cornered her in front of my parents' door and she barked at me. her teeth BARELY grazed me and I actually didn't feel her bite so I'm pretty sure my dumbass leaned in and nicked myself but either way my skin which was paper fucking thin I guess on my nose and my right temple started bleeding. again this was at my parents' bedroom door so I scream not out of pain but Blood Happening that my parents open the door to this terrifying fucking scene and it wasn't until after that I could explain this was my fault entirely but my dad had to drive me to the ER and explain to the nurses while I'm holding a rag to my face but again I'm not in pain so I'm just sitting there kicking my legs in the chair just sorta taking it. and everyone is looking at me deeply concerned

the bite didn't need stitches they were just gonna superglue it so it would heal faster. unfortunately the doctor I got was a Dipshit. I mentioned the injuries were on my nose and temple. well. when he tried to glue my nose wound his hand drifted. and drifted. and. bam. glob of superglue on my left eye. he went OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY! and glued my nose. whatever. inconvenient but I get it because it was right next to my eye. I did close my eyes thankfully but it did bond my eyelashes together so my eye was very much glued shut. fuck it, we ball anyways

then he went to glue my right temple. and then drifted to the left... again... AND GLUED MY RIGHT EYE SHUT TOO. WHAT THE FUCK

"oh my god are you doing okay???" the doctor who GLUED MY EYES SHUT asked in horror

I didn't remember what I said. but my dad does, and he told me I stunned the doctor into sputtering by sassing him with "I was doing pretty good until you glued my eyes shut" in autism bluntness

so he glues it again and we go home. I Can't Fucking See. I still manage to learn for the spelling bee by reciting lists orally with my parents and practice pretty well. unfortunately Doctor Dipshit Gluefingers also didn't disinfect my wounds very well so they got infected! and it was kinda comical because I looked like I was bruised from a boxing match. as a 6 year old.

my parents and teacher asked me, do you wanna go and do the spelling bee anyways? I think about it. I think about how hard I worked to be a smartie. I think about how I can still spell even if I can't fucking see. I can see a little at this point because we were given a solvent to dissolve the glue over time gently without harming my eyes but even then I can barely open my eyes at this point and everything is blurry. so it's a fair question

I think. I ain't giving up my spot to the runner up over a little glue and a couple scratches. I don't care that I look like a blueberry I'M DOING THE SPELLING BEE

so I march up on stage and I perform the best I can. I'm spelling 3 syllable words that are impressive for my age like original and fantastic. there are 4 kids left including me.

they throw a word at me I didn't anticipate, one so simple, I choke. it was pretty. I spelled it with one T. I focused so hard on the long words I choked at a short one thinking it was easy. I get fourth place.

I'm kicking myself for losing to such an easy word but my dad picks me up and says he's proud of me for toughing through it even though I was having a really hard time. he takes me out to get soft serve and says I'm still a winner and a champ for everything I managed. I didn't care for soft serve ice cream until that day and I still get nostalgic anytime I have it on occasion 16 years later. and I can still navigate my childhood home with my eyes shut to this day.

btw opera lived a long and happy life after and we were still thick as thieves and I haven't faded the scars as a memory of her because besides this incident she was a fucking angel to me and I never faulted her and it was SUCH a good lesson on the importance of respecting animals

hey say something nice to me

[l-starsz]

a/n: finally got around to this😛 i hope this is good, i got a bit carried away writing this.. also it won’t let me tag so i left the @ in🥲 (also last request done!!! still not taking any rn though since i still have loads added to my list of things i need to write and post😋)

billie knew how to get a girl. and it showed. she knew the right things to say and when to say them. although she hadn’t been with many girls, she knew the right way to get a girl without making her uncomfortable. and that’s what she did to me.

i’d had men approach me in the past who definitely didn’t know how to properly make a girl feel right, let alone treat one right. but there was something about billie. probably because she was a girl herself, but i could tell that i wouldn’t regret getting her number. she was sweet, and caring, and she knew that. she knew that she could probably get any girl she wanted with just a few simple words.

from that night forward, billie and i talked a lot, and ended up being friends. but there was always something more there. i fell for her the night i saw her, but i didn’t want her to know that. there were obviously feeling on her part too, though.

like the time i told her i’d never actually had an orgasm when someone touched me. i’d been fucked before, but not well. the people i’d been with just waited until they came, and didn’t bother about me. and billie took it upon herself to advise me i guess? well it was more like an offer to help me out. i laughed it off, i thought she was joking, but then she added onto her words.

“baby, when you need the job done, you can call me.” it was a whisper, but loud enough for me to hear.

my cheeks turned pink and i attempted to change the conversation, but her words lingered in the back of my mind. since i didn’t know she liked me back, i was trying so hard to forget about her. i tried talking to people, but they weren’t like her. i even tried to push her away, but it didn’t work. we had plans, and i could barely cope without her.

the day came, i was seeing her for the first time in a while. i’d missed her. and i felt so bad for pushing her away. i was just finishing getting ready when i heard her car revving outside. i knew the sound of her car. i knew it was her. i was going to her house just to hang out for a while, but she insisted on picking me up.

i ran downstairs and after locking my door, i hopped into her car with a smile on my face.

“hi bil!!” i smiled, hugging her tight, and as best i could sitting down, before buckling my seatbelt.

“hey angel! i’ve missed you.” she pouted and pulled off the curb.

“i missed you so much more.” i giggled, leaning back slightly in my seat.

we spoke for a few minutes before i mentioned something.

“it’s so difficult finding good people around here. i swear things will be going well then all of a sudden they’re either a horrible person, or they can’t be bothered to make me finish.” i rolled my eyes and crossed my arms.

“well you know that if you’ve never had the one, you can call me, baby.” she smirked, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shifter.

of course, my cheeks turned pink again, just like the last time she said something like this. the day went smooth after that, we watched movies, had dinner together, and when it was getting a little late, she drove me home again. i told her i’d get a taxi, but she wouldn’t accept that, she wanted to drive me home.

when i’d got into the house, i immediately showered, trying to clear my mind. i needed her so bad. i couldn’t get her to leave my mind. when i finished my shower, i did some self care, and immediately got into bed. my favourite tv show was calling to me when i turned my tv on, but even with it playing i couldn’t get her words to leave my mind.

when it reached 1am and her words still hadn’t left me, i knew to the only option was to call her. i was soaked just thinking about her, i was desperate. i’d pushed my feelings away for way too long and i couldn’t help myself any longer.

i unlocked my phone and found her contact, clicking on the ‘call’ button with shaky movements. she answered in the first ring, her voice keeping the usual soft edge to it. the one that she only used when she was talking to me. i could hear the smile on her face as she spoke.

“hey pretty, everything okay? i only dropped you home a couple hours ago.”

“i.. billie.” i breathed out. i didn’t even know how to word what i needed.

“tell me, love. what’s the matter?” she sounded more concerned now because of my lack of words.

“i.. need you.” i admitted quietly, closing my eyes, worried for her response.

i knew she wouldn’t react badly, she told me to call her, but i was just nervous to admit it.

“i’m on my way.” i heard her smirk.

“hurry. please.” i groaned, laying my head back and listening to her moving around her room.

i heard her grab her keys, put her shoes on, lock her door, the slam of her car door. the whole time she was driving to my house, we stayed on call making small conversation. it felt like forever before i heard her car pulling into my driveway. i didn’t even need to unlock the door for her, she already had a key.

once i heard her walk into my house, i ended the call and waited for her to come to my room.

the second she was in my room, her lips found mine. her hands were all over me, finding the waistband of my shorts almost immediately.

“bil.. i haven’t-“

“shh, it’s okay i’ve got you. no need to tell me, just let me take care of you.” she cut me off.

i nodded and allowed her hand to slip lower, under my shorts and into my underwear. her fingers slid through my soaked folds, my wetness getting on her knuckles just from brushing against my underwear. the tips of her fingers pushed inside me, causing me to let out a breathy moan.

her thumb was resting over my clit, and when her fingers pushed completely inside me, her thumb applied more pressure.

“please billie! please touch me more.” i pouted and scraped my nails along the sheets.

“no need to hurry, baby. let me make you feel good, take my time, yeah?”

i whined in response. as long as she was here i was happy, so i nodded, but my back still arched up, longing for more. her fingers weren’t too quick, nor too slow. they were perfect.

she knew what i needed. like she’d had my body memorised for years. as if this wasn’t the first time she’d ever touched me this way. i could feel my walls clench perfectly around her fingers, my juices getting all over them.

she found the perfect spot soon enough, making me cry out her name, practically begging for her. that was when her thumb moved away. her fingers kept working inside me, but her tongue replaced her thumb. this was going way better than i could’ve imagined, and i thought that my constant daydreaming about her was perfect.

she flicked, sucked, and carefully bit on my clit, giving me as much pleasure as she could without overwhelming me. that was what got me close. ready to cum.

“that’s it, pretty girl. let go for me.”

she moved away from my pussy, just for a moment to speak, before going right back at it. when my walls were basically crushing her fingers, she worked faster to make me finish. and it worked. i was sent straight over the edge, moaning out her name loud. i tried to stay quiet, considering the time, but she was just too good. too perfect.

“there you go. so perfect for me. took my fingers so good.” she spoke against my lips, carefully pulling her fingers out at the same time, using her words as a distraction.

we got cleaned up after a few minutes of laying in each others arms, and when we were curled up together under my blankets, freshly showered. and i was falling asleep, i heard her speak.

“i get the job done, hm baby?”

“definitely. thank you billie.” i mumbled, before falling asleep with my face pressed against her chest.

[deerspherestudios]

Plans for the Upcoming Months 📝

Hello hello fireflies!

Here's the TL;DR:

APRIL: Finishing owed Patreon sketches. 🌸 MAY: Designing merch and attending a con. 🌺 JUNE: Resuming progress on Mushroom Oasis - Day 4. 🍄

For full context:

I'll try to keep my thoughts here concise, but the summary is I feel like in recent months I keep biting off more than I can chew by working on multiple things at once when it comes to projects. What started out as a game in my spare time during college definitely feels like more work to maintain now, of which I'm grateful to be able to do.

However, it's also why I keep feeling like I never finish things and it's only exacerbated with life keeping me occupied with personal matters.

Starting this month, at least for the foreseeable future, I don't have anything on my calendar for the first time in a while. So I'm taking this chance to divide the next few months into smaller smaller!! goals to ensure I can keep creating without risking physical and creative burnout.

The reason I've made this into a full post is so that people are aware what I'm working on currently, like a To-Do list of sorts! From April to June, I'll be focusing on:

4️⃣ APRIL: Finishing owed Patreon sketches. 🌸

5️⃣ MAY: Designing merch and attending a con. 🌺

6️⃣ JUNE: Resuming progress on MO - Day 4. 🍄

While I understand it might seem absurd to spend an entire month to do each of these, I'm merely setting attainable expectations for everyone and myself. I wish I could've done more since the beginning of this year, but there's always something that deters me, and I'm working with that baseline from now on. Of course, if I happen to finish these tasks early, I'll definitely move on to the next right after!

I'd love to share progress on the next update for Mushroom Oasis, but as of now the script is still being worked on. With exposition concluded after the first three days, I find myself stuck driving the plot in multiple directions so it's taking a while to sort out the plot spaghetti 🫠!!

Quality over quantity will always be a priority for me, and I wouldn't wanna rush for the sake of releasing something.

As always, thank you thank you thank you for everyone's support and patience! You, the person taking the time to read this, are exactly the reason I'm able to do what I do. And I'm forever grateful for that!

Take care and thanks for reading! ❤️🍄🍄

[mammoth-clangen]

So, first off, as a paleontologist… thank you for that rant. It’s been driving me up the wall that people are going “oh look we revived the dire wolf using gray wolves!!” Even if you ignore the whole issue of de-extinction wolves aren’t even the closest living relative! Jackals and African wild dogs are more closely related to it, and they aren’t anywhere close to being in the same genus.

And of course, de-extinction is a whole other issue. Why are they so focused on the mammoth? At least the thylacine went extinct about a hundred years ago so the niche could still be there. But still, why focus on them? If you want to de-extinct something, why not focus on, oh I don’t know, the northern white rhino which still has two living members for sequencing and who have a living subspecies.

And further more, it’s genuinely cruel to bring most of these back. You think a wooly mammoth that lived in the last glacial maximum would be happy in todays climate that is consistently getting hotter? You think the dodo would appreciate the fact that it’s one habitat has been mostly destroyed? You think the thylacine would enjoy trying to outcompete the dingos that have moved into its niche? No. They wouldn’t.

For the mammoths, it’s especially cruel since they are herd animals and you’d need to clone a lot of them at one time for them to be happy.

And I mean, look. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see these creatures alive. As unlikely as it is, I keep a sliver of hope that the thylacine might still be out there. But that doesn’t mean de-extinction is good. Like it or not, they went extinct for a reason. Yes, that reason may be because of humans, but it is still a reason. You bring them back and they’ll go extinct again unless they are given extreme protection.

They need to focus on living creatures or, if they are desperate to bring something that’s completely extinct back, focus on creatures that have gone extinct within the last two decades.

Ugh, sorry for the mini rant but as someone who understands extinction (including the current Anthropocene mass extinction), bringing things back is not the way to go. I can point to multiple genuses that went extinct for a good reason.

Hello fellow palaeontologist! 🤝 My area of study was actually Dromornithid ichnotaxonomy but carnivorans are holding me hostage nowadays, it seems...

Unfortunately, you have fallen prey to another (thankfully, less insidious) piece of misinformation! Dire wolves aren't wolves, but they are no more closely related to Jackals or African Wild Dogs!

Aenocyon is an outgroup to all wolf-like canids, jackals included!

I've seen the Aenocyon/Lupulella/Lycaon relatedness touted often, and am guilty of repeating it myself before I re-read the paper.

A possible reason for this confusion that African jackals are considered the most basal of the extant, wolf-like canids; as seen on the cladogram above.

Therefore, the ~5.7million year old common ancestor of Aenocyon and the wolf/jackal/dhole lineage would likely have looked more like a jackal. Then Aenocyon convergently evolved a very wolfish skeleton because of their similar lifestyles!

This is also why I chose to reconstructed my Aenocyon with a shoulder patch, seeing many canids seem to have some sort of cape marking.

The 2021 paper that concluded the dire wolf isn't a wolf at all, is unfortunately paywalled :/ Without full access to the paper it's hard to be sure exactly where Aenocyon fits within the larger Canidae family tree (if they discussed it at all), but the abstract describes them as having "an early New World origin".

It seems they were a true outgroup to modern wolf-like canids, being the earliest branching member of Canina! They're not too different from sabercats, in that way.

Also if anyone is following the ongoing edit war on the Dire Wolf Wikipedia page, I beg you to ignore the "taxonomy based on morphology" section. It is only useful as a historical reference for how we used to view Aenocyon dirus as Canis dirus for a long time. Current science supports these morphological similarities being convergent, contrary to what Colossal Lies are being told...

---

I already partially addressed Mammoths (and the issues with their herds inbreeding) in this other ask, but I do agree completely with your points.

Having the GMO wolves raised without another older wolf or dog parental figures is frankly, just cruel. Any vet will tell you hand-reared and imprinted animals are significantly more prone to behavioural issues down the line. Mammoths would be worse again, because unlike Romulus and Remus, there is no chance of even having a twin to keep them company.

And yes; What could possibly go wrong with bringing back a polar-adapted, woolly proboscidean, into a world where even winters are getting progressively warmer?

I too, would love to see extinct animals in the wild. I'd be lying if I said I don't secretly hope for many of them to pull a coelacanth on us. But sadly, I don't think that's likely, and nor do I think we should be trying to make it happen.

---

Hank Green brought up something poignant about this dire wolf debacle, which is that extinction is not as simplistic as we imagine it to be. It's not just the death of a species.

"It's the destruction of a space in the natural environment for a species."

And that is really it, you can't just "bring back" an extinct species, because you aren't bringing their niche back with them.

Successful reintroductions of species that were locally extirpated or made entirely extinct in the wild have only worked because effort was put into securing a niche and ecosystem that had been lost.

And even well-planned, well-funded reintroductions struggle, but at least they understood the assignment.

Colossal, on the other hand, seems to think that adding back their very-roughly-wolf-shaped 'jenga block' to the ecosystem 'tower' will completely stop the collapse. But the real 'collapse' is caused by habitat destruction, and no amount of GMO wolves, mammoths or thylacines can stop that.

Bringing the species in to save the ecosystem is climbing ass-first up a tree. We need to save the ecosystem for the species. And all this is still ignoring the sad truth for a lot of extinct animals:

For many of them, there is no 'tower' to save.

[ijustwannabecool]

The Fastest Man Off Track

Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader

Summary... A rare day in the life of the four-time world champion, through the lens of family, legacy, and the quiet moments that matter most.

A/N: Enjoy reading! Have a beautiful day! Requests are open. If you like it please like, comment, and share. Happy reading you beautiful soul :)

----------------------------------

Max Verstappen didn’t care much for interviews.

He didn’t enjoy talking about himself, and he definitely didn’t enjoy the attention that came with being a four-time world champion. The world saw him as a machine — controlled, confident, untouchable behind the wheel. But outside of racing, he liked to be left alone. Preferably barefoot, in his garage, or at the kitchen table with you and Isa.

So when Vogue Netherlands requested a quiet feature — not about the wins, not about the titles, but about Max as a man — it took some convincing.

“They just want a ‘day in the life,’” you told him over coffee. “No red carpets. No stylists. Just… you.”

Max lifted a brow. “Why would anyone care about that?”

“Because they’ve seen Max Verstappen the racer,” you said softly, “but not Max Verstappen the dad. The collector. The man who drives Isa to preschool in a twenty-year-old Land Rover because ‘it has character.’”

He grunted.

“Max. They said they want to talk about your cars.”

That made him pause.

“They want to hear the stories behind them. What they meant. Not the specs — the memories.”

He still didn’t agree right away. But later that night, you caught him standing in the garage in his hoodie and socks, hands in his pockets, staring at the McLaren F1 like it had something to say back.

The team arrived mid-morning. Just three people — respectful, soft-spoken, Dutch. One camera. One microphone. No chaos.

They weren’t here for a spectacle.

Just a story.

You stayed inside with Isa while Max walked the garage floor with the crew, talking them through his collection. He didn’t brag. He wasn’t that kind of man. But when he pointed to certain cars, his voice changed — softer, quieter, like the memories were still warm.

“That one,” he said, nodding to a black 2002 Ferrari Enzo, “was the first car I ever bought just for myself. Not because it was rare or fast. Just because I loved how it looked. I didn’t even test drive it.”

He moved on. A silver Jaguar XJ220. A retired Red Bull RB16B, mounted on its own turntable. A Porsche GT3 RS with pink crayon stitching — your choice, back when he asked which color combo he should pick.

But it was the McLaren that made him stop.

“It never really felt like mine,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

The camera tilted.

“I bought it years ago. A dream car. Put it in the garage and thought, ‘Yeah. This is the one.’ But I never drove it. Never touched it.”

“Why not?” the interviewer asked.

Max smiled slightly. “Didn’t know then. But I do now.”

He turned toward the side door.

“It was waiting for her.”

Isa was already dressed — pink overalls and two pigtails that barely stayed in place. She clutched her little Verstappen cap in one hand and her bunny in the other.

“She’s ready,” you said with a grin. “She asked me to put on ‘garage shoes.’ I think she meant sneakers.”

When Max returned, Isa ran to him instantly, arms out, bunny swinging.

“You said I could show them my car!”

“And I keep my promises, don’t I?” he replied, scooping her up with ease. “Come on then, let’s go give them a tour.”

He carried her into the garage like a secret he was finally ready to share.

“This is the McLaren F1,” Max announced proudly, gesturing to the sapphire blue car with wide butterfly doors. “But Isa calls it…”

“My car!” she interrupted with a big grin, bunny now sitting where a racing helmet should be.

“Why is it hers?” the interviewer asked gently, camera still rolling.

Max looked at Isa.

“She was two and a half,” he said, “wandered in here one morning while I was working. Climbed straight into the driver’s seat. Said ‘this is my baby car.’ And I realized… it was.”

He chuckled softly.

“It didn’t feel like anything until she touched it. Now I can’t imagine it belonging to anyone else.”

The rest of the shoot unfolded naturally. Isa held the mic at one point. Max helped her wipe a pretend smudge off the Ferrari. You brought out lemon cake for the crew, and Isa insisted on giving everyone one “tiny piece” because that’s what you told her was polite.

And when the interviewer asked Max if he ever felt like his priorities had shifted, his answer was so simple, so him, it stopped the room.

“They haven’t shifted. They’ve landed.”

The article never mentioned Isa’s name. No photos of her were published. Just one shot: a wide photo of Max standing beside the McLaren, and in the background, barely in frame, a little girl in pink overalls placing a stuffed bunny on the passenger seat.

The caption read: “The fastest man alive, and the car that finally made him slow down.”

That night, after the team left and Isa fell asleep with her bunny tucked under her chin, Max sat on the edge of your shared bed, quietly rubbing at the crease between his brows.

“You alright?” you asked, brushing a hand over his shoulders.

“I let them see too much?”

You shook your head. “You let them see the best parts.”

He smiled, but it was small.

“You’re the best part,” you said, curling into him. “But she’s the fastest.”

Max chuckled, low and deep. “Definitely gets that from me.”

And you kissed him once, then again — and again — until his laugh faded into something softer.

Slower.

Right where he liked to be.

[umlewis]

Lewis Hamilton On Dressing Up, Showing Up, and Making No Apologies

When I learned that The Met was celebrating the Black dandy, I was a bit blown away, to be honest. Black dandyism, the men who came before us—curator Monica L. Miller’s work and how she explains this history in the exhibition “Superfine: Tailoring Black Style”—it’s all so important to learn. What hit home hardest is how far back it goes, and that there are so many different ways to present as a man; you don’t have to be traditionally masculine. And Black men have always had to be more excellent than our white counterparts. I’ve seen that with my father and with me—we needed to be overachievers. That’s why this theme is just so important to me.

When I was growing up outside of London, there were no museums near me, there wasn’t much diversity, and there certainly wasn’t any exposure to fashion.

So I lived vicariously through magazines and music videos and films. The people I looked up to—it was Muhammad Ali, it was Michael Jordan, it was Eddie Murphy in Beverly Hills Cop wearing that cool leather jacket. And then a little bit later I started to learn about Cab Calloway, James Baldwin, Nelson Mandela, and André Leon Talley. I saw how their image was so important to them, and how they presented themselves through fashion.

At the same time, I was trying to understand how I wanted to present myself. As a teenager I didn’t have any money for clothes; my family and I spent it all on racing. So I would wash cars along my street for pocket money and go to the little thrift store in town and get the Tommy Hilfiger pieces that I saw in music videos. They gave me the confidence to show up and say, “This is who I am.”

Just before I got to Formula 1, I remember being looked up and down by a boss, and he definitely wasn’t impressed with what I was wearing. I was probably in FUBU and Timbs. I remember thinking, Shoot, I’ve really got to fit into this mold. And my dad expected me to fit into that mold too. Sometimes I would dress one way leaving the house, then drive down the road and change into a baggy, swagged-out look. I would go out and have the best night ever, then change back into what I left the house wearing before I came home.

When I first signed with F1 I was only allowed to wear suits and team kits, and it was horrible. I didn’t feel comfortable, and I didn’t feel like I was able to be myself.

Eventually, I had the courage to push beyond those boundaries and say, “Look, I want to turn up to the track in what I want to wear. I’m here now—you can’t get rid of me or change the way I dress.” The pushback was massive, but when the sport saw the impact of my little runway, other drivers started doing the same thing.

Of course, I always wanted to go to the Met Gala, and I got invited for the first time in 2015. It’s always been a privilege to attend, but in 2021, I no longer wanted to just be another person in the room. I was working with Law Roach, who is a dear friend, and I was like, “What if we created a table together where we invite a few up-and-coming Black designers, have them dress some guests, and we all show up together—so it’s about creating space and opportunity?” And also, I was going to buy the table myself. Of course, everyone looked great, but I felt like that night opened up a dialogue about amplifying underrepresented voices and talent.

Naturally, I hope this year’s Met Gala sparks conversation and reconfirms the connection between fashion and self-expression, and how deep it runs in Black culture. I hope it allows us to show that we have ownership of our identity and how we see ourselves and how we see one another, and how we use fashion to combat preconceived notions with humanity and dignity. If you think about where we are in the world—and particularly in the States, in terms of people pulling back on diversity—I think this Met Gala sends a really strong message that we must continue to celebrate and elevate Black history.

When I look at the images of Black men from the past—images like the ones in the exhibit—they were so stylish. My stylist, Eric McNeal, and I have been thinking about how I’m going to turn up at the Met Gala. We’re both very thoughtful and intentional when it comes to fashion, and I hope that everyone else attending is compelled to really research and think deeply about what they’re wearing. I also hope people take time to see the exhibit; the storytelling is amazing.

Timing is everything, and to have co-chaired a previous Met Gala wouldn’t have been as special. I’m really proud. (Also, I remember watching Pharrell as a kid and thinking, He’s so stylish and cool. It’s surreal for me to now be co-chairing with him.) The moment is going to be huge. A testament to our legacy. A message that it can’t be erased.

[maghendearey]

Lucky charm

When friendship turns into love. Lando Norris x reader

I hope you guys like it. Enjoy reading!

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Masterlist

2006 Glastonbury

"Honey, hurry up!" my mother's voice rang out. She'd been pestering me for minutes, but I couldn't decide which toy to bring. I actually didn't want to meet up with my mother's friend and her son. After she kept pestering and pestering, we finally managed to reach her friend's house with only a slight delay. It was beautiful. The yellow of the house had faded slightly, but it still looked elegant. The green of the garden looked beautiful, and I was already looking forward to playing in it later. When Mom rang the doorbell, I noticed myself getting nervous. Suddenly, a friendly, smiling woman opened the door. She hugged my mother before kneeling down in front of me. "You must be Y/N. It's nice to finally meet you. Lando is already excited to meet you. Should I take you upstairs to him?" she asked kindly, holding out her hand. I looked up at Mom, what should I do? But when she just nodded, I took the hand that was extended to me and followed her upstairs. When we reached the end of the stairs, she stopped in front of a door, knocked softly once before pushing down the doorknob, allowing me a glimpse into the room. A large bed, lots of toys scattered on the floor, all small cars, and on the walls hung photos of people with large prizes in their hands or photos of cars. Then my gaze slid to the boy who was sitting on the Sitting on the floor, he had a red car in his hand with the number 1 on the front. The boy himself had short brown hair, gray eyes, and rosy cheeks. He smiled shyly before walking over to me. "Hi, I'm Lando. Do you like cars?" he asked directly, and I had to smile. This boy definitely liked cars." I introduced myself. "I don't know if I like cars that much." The boy shook his head indignantly, as if wondering how anyone didn't like cars. "And Formula 1?" he wanted to know. "What is Formula 1?" I asked, having never heard of it. This time, the boy looked more as if I had just told him that I didn't know that grass was green or the sun was yellow. "How can you not know Formula 1? I have to tell you everything!" He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the wall with the pictures. First, he pointed to the picture of a man with light brown hair, a big smile, and he was holding a Helmet like a motorcycle helmet in the hand. "That's the best F1 driver, Michael Schumacher"...

2007 Norris Family Home

I had seen him almost every day for the past few months. We did everything together. One couldn't exist without the other. I even accompanied Lando to kart tracks a few times. But today we were both sitting at his house looking at our English books. We were supposed to read a text, which Lando hated. I tried to help him because I was actually pretty good at it. "Lan, you have to put the letters together. Then the word makes sense," I tried, but it didn't seem to help. "Why does it have to be so boring? Why can't it be a text about Formula 1?" he complained.

I smiled, because he was always interested in anything other than F1. "Lan, why are you so interested?" I wanted to know. I had never asked him that before. "Because one day I'll be world champion," he said, smiling confidently...

2013, a race track in England

Lando had been pulling me around the track for minutes, and my legs were starting to hurt. "Lan, what are you looking for?" I asked, already exhausted. "Max! He's my friend, you'll love him," Lando said, and when he finally saw the boy, he ran over and pulled me along. The boy was our age and was wearing a racing suit like Lando already had. When he saw me and Lando, he smiled, "Hello, I'm Max, and you?"...

2014 KF Championship, Essay

I cheered and encouraged Lando. He was driving fast, and I was almost certain he would win. And then, then he did. He crossed the finish line fastest. And finally, standing on the highest step of the podium, a man handed him a trophy almost as big as him. Lando smiled at me, he looked so proud, and he deserved it. He had worked so hard. Finally, he climbed off the podium and He ran to me, hugged me, and I hugged him. When we separated, he quickly leaned forward. He briefly placed his lips on mine before quickly pulling away. We both blushed, and I felt a tingling sensation on my lips. "Thank you for being my lucky charm," he admitted.

2024 Summer Break Yacht on the Water off Greece Over the years, my friendship with Lando grew into a large group of friends, including Max, Ria, and many others, which evolved into a small team of YouTubers. Nevertheless, my friendship with Lando was still the strongest, but over time, I realized that I liked and wanted him more than just friends. I'd actually known that since our kiss in 2014. But I couldn't tell him, it would ruin everything, right? Today, we all spent a beautiful day together. Swimming, sunbathing, and diving overnight on the water. Soft music was playing, the sun had already set, and our voices were the only faint sounds. I was gently leaning against Lando, my head on his shoulder. He was on his phone, watching TikTok. He had already yawned several times, and finally, Max asked if he wanted to just go to bed. "It would probably be better." Lando said, stood up, gave me a kiss on the cheek like he always did, and went to bed with the words, "Sleep well." He went inside the boat, and my eyes followed him, staying on him until I could no longer see him. When he was gone, I played with the half-empty beer bottle until Max and Ria suddenly sat down next to me. "So, how are you?" Max asked me, looking at me with a hint of amusement. "Good, why?" I asked, slightly confused. "Come on, what's going on between you and Lando?" Ria demanded. "Nothing," I admitted. "Unfortunately," I added. "Oh, that sounds interesting, come on, tell me," Max demanded, and finally I did…

Today, filming a new video for YouTube. We sat around a table with jars of disgusting food on it. We all had to answer questions one after the other. Lando, who was able to get out of trouble, read them to us. They were all nasty or embarrassing. If we didn't want to answer them, we had to eat the things in front of us. A few rounds had already passed, and we were being asked nasty questions. I had already refused one and had to eat fried marden instead. Now it was my turn again. Lando pulled the piece of paper toward him and read it out loud. "What did you tell Max and Ria on the boat in Greece?" he said amusedly. He didn't know what it was, but he liked it when I told him my secrets. Actually, I didn't have many, except that I loved him. My gaze wandered back and forth between Max and Ria, who also beamed at me amusedly. But for another reason, they wanted me to tell Lando ever since I told them. That must have been how they posed the question. I couldn't answer that, so my hand slid to the glass on the table in front of me and looked inside to see what I should eat. When I looked inside, I gagged. It was a balut, and the egg was already open at the top so I could see the inside—you could see the little bird's beak. I reached for it, trembling, and felt tears welling up in my eyes. I couldn't eat it, it was Horrible. Lando put his hand on my knee and rubbed it soothingly. "It's okay, you don't have to eat it, maybe you should answer it after all," Lando finally demanded. I looked up at him, my lip trembling slightly. "I, I told Ria and Max that I've loved you since we were kids." I admit. Lando looked at me in shock, his face had turned white and any hope I had left me. He didn't say anything, just started. I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I didn't want to embarrass myself by crying in front of him, so I jumped up and pushed past the others. Max tried to grab my hand to hold on, but I pulled away. I rushed out of the house, to my car and drove off quickly. I was actually driving aimlessly, but eventually I ended up at a spot by the sea. Lando and I had often been there together as kids.

2 hours later, spot by the sea I was crying, screaming, and hitting the sand. I was really glad that the beach was less well-known and that only a few people came by, because anyone who saw me would think I was crazy. Because the sand and the waves muffled all the sounds around me, I didn't hear anyone approaching until I suddenly saw a shadow in the sand. I looked up; it was Lando. His eyes were also slightly red and swollen; he must have been dilated. He quickly took off his jacket because, unlike me, he was wearing a sweater underneath, whereas because of my quick action I was only wearing a T-shirt and not even a jacket. He put it over my shoulders and plopped down next to me in the sand, pulling me close. I considered breaking away, pulling me away, but I just let him hold me. We sat there in silence for a few minutes and those minutes turned into hours; the sun was already setting over the sea. Suddenly he leaned forward and kissed me, like he had years ago. I was shocked, but kissed me back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overwhelm you," I apologized after we had broken the kiss. "Forget it. I love you too. You're my lucky charm," he said, just like he had done back then. We stayed like that for hours, excited about what was to come.

I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to leave a comment or like. If you have any ideas, feel free to write to me.

love you guys💋

[moonacrefarm]

anticipating love

summary: waiting, expecting and safe. 

contains: MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI, childhood friends to lovers to strangers, second-chance romance, angst, hurt/comfort, slight miscommunication, fluff, 18+ series, mentions of stalking, mentions of cancer, no mention of y/n, smut, cunnilingus, fingering, makeout sesh

authors note: this my first time officially writing smut vs a maladaptive day dream...i can only go up from here (I tell myself as i edited this chapter idk how many times) the smut was fun to write, i had to keep reminding myself to be a little shameless...enjoy!

series masterlist

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06. my love

Laughter bounced off the walls of the cabin, engulfing you and Bradley in a warm atmosphere. Minutes felt like seconds each time your cheeks flushed. 

“I swear I know where I’m going!” 

“By the looks of it, Penny will make it back before I do.” 

“Hey, I’m doing pretty good for having not driven up and down these roads in a while.���

You paused, giving Bradley a small side-eye. He stiffened up and glanced at you anxiously. 

“Did I say the wrong thing?” He inquired softly as if he was expecting a blow. 

You’d given him plenty but the energy was light right now, your body feeling weightless. “Yes.”

He sighed, “I’m sorry Bugs I know I keep–”

“You literally learned how to drive on the I-5. You should know these roads like the back of your hand Bradshaw.” You laughed again, leaning on the window to get a better view of him. His shoulders relaxed, moving his neck side to side,“When I was like sixteen!” He said exasperatedly. 

“Oh please at this point we’re gonna end up in Ramona if you take one more wrong turn.”  

“We’re barely in La Jolla, shush.” 

“That's the thing…WHY are we in La Jolla?” You huffed. 

Penny nor your parent's house was far from North Island, both your father and your aunt preferred a shorter commute. Which for them, was Point Loma. 

“Alright alright, you caught me.” He gave you a small lopsided grin, “You really don’t remember one of our favorite spots?”

Bradley had caught you off guard. In truth, you did forget. It’d been forever since you’d been near the West Field, let alone La Jolla Shores. When Bradley left, anything related to him was pushed into the corners of your mind. You watched as his smile faded, eyebrows creasing in the center.

“Oh my god, you forgot?”

“Can you blame me?” You exclaimed. “After you left anything related to you I just dumped in the back of my head refused, refusing to think of it again.” You put your face in your hands, ears burning from the heat of the embarrassment.

“Bugs you picked this spot out…” He trailed off, his laughter barely concealed.

“Don’t remind me!” 

“I remember how proud you were to show me! Made me close my eyes so I wouldn’t know the way there.”

The spot in question was a little bit past the university, instead of turning onto one of the other main roads, you kept going past the golf course. You’d been hunting for small spots by the shores. You and Bradley grew up on the San Diego beaches, but La Jolla Shores was the last place you visited with Carole before she got bad. After that, you had no reason to be hunting for small nooks and crannies tucked between the cliffs.

Now that it had dawned on you where you were going, it surprised you. Bradley left San Diego scorned of everything it reminded him he lost. 

You looked at him, really looked at him. His cheeks had shed their baby fat, his eyes were a little heavier, and his jaw stronger. The nose you used to outline is more sculpted. Time had worn his face and polished him into a man and you’d never truly noticed until this moment. When he left you there was still some plushy youth in cheeks and a chubbier smile. 

You had no idea what he had been through in the years he was away. 

“Look,” He pointed towards your side, “There’s the campus, we’re close by.” 

Bradley kept pointing towards random things that served as memory markers, the gate that got you all the down the cliffs, the Scripps research building, some new ones you had no idea what they were.

The windy road was quiet save for the wind that got stronger as you got near the beach. The sand was beating against the windows and he double-checked every window was rolled up tight. Lowering down the music he turned to face you, fingers drumming his thighs. 

Before he could get a word in, you unbuckled and climbed over the console into the back seat, stretching out. He raised an eyebrow at you.

“You’re not gonna join me, Bradshaw?”

“Am I allowed to?” 

You cocked your head to the side, “Now that you ask…” 

“Too late I’m already climbing over.” 

You laughed as he lugged his body through the small space. Another reminder of just how much time had passed. He was bigger, all the training had beefed him up a bit, not that you were complaining. Not one bit.

He sat next to you with a huff, legs man spread and his hands hanging over his thighs as he took a deep breath. “You know this car is supposed to be roomy?” 

“It was roomy when we were younger.” You smiled up at him, watching his neck turn a little redder. 

“Yeah..yeah it was.” He trailed off, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. 

“We were awful back then, getting into all sorts of…” He trailed off, “Mischief?” 

He laughed in response, “I guess you could call it that.”

You leaned on his shoulder, legs tucked under you as you watched the waves sallow up the sand. Today must've been high tide since the water was near the edge, much closer than normal. Bradley leaned his cheek on your head, not moving closer, not pulling away, just leaning. 

You both remained quiet for a couple of minutes. You slightly dozed off until he pushed a piece of hair out of your face. Grazing your cheek and pinching the top of your ear. You gave him a small glare.

“Hey, no sleeping on the job.” He said as he tapped the tip of your nose. You scrunched it at him. 

He re-adjusted, leaning on the door and pulling you in so you laid between his legs. Bradley wasn’t as small as he used to be, keeping one leg straight across the back seat, and the other bent off the edge for balance, placing you right so you were laying back to his chest. You leaned your weight on him as he wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you in a bear hug. It wasn’t suffocating and you gripped his arms holding him back.

You let him hold you as long as he needed, hearing his deep breaths as if he was trying to memorize your scent, and his hands pressing into your shoulders to make sure you were still there with him. 

“I missed you Bugs, more than words can describe.” 

“I missed you too Bradshaw.” He loosened his grip, using his hands to caress your cheek and your jaw, moving up your nose and to your eyebrows. Outlining your face with his finger, as much as you wanted to let him continue, you also wanted to look at him. 

You shifted away from the back of the seats and threw your legs over his bent one, feet just reaching the console. You were practically sitting in his lap, save for the fact he was splayed out semi-starfish, using the door to keep him upright. You settled on top of his thighs and looked up.

He didn’t say anything and instead gently kissed your forehead. Holding himself there before moving down to your eyebrows, then each cheek and the tip of your nose. 

“No kiss for me Bradshaw?” He huffed a little bit, you’d always been straightforward, to his demise or his benefit. 

“Do you want a kiss Bugs?” You raised an eyebrow. “Question is Bradshaw, do you deserve a kiss?” He laughed his time, head on the window as you felt his body shake. 

“Always turning the tables on me.”

“Hey,” you lifted in your arms in defense, “You always walk right into it.” 

Nodding, he leaned forward once more, “Can I kiss you?” He asked.

This time you paused, “Please.” 

Bradley didn’t hesitate before he slotted his lips against yours. Hands coming down to support your waist as you twisted to give him a better angle. 

Your hands moved to cup the back of his neck and pull him closer, hands threading through his hair and tugging gently. He groaned into your mouth and you opened up to give him more access. 

The taste of the mocktails he had been drinking gave a slight sweetness on his tongue. One of the hands moved between your shoulder blades to push you into him. You didn’t know how much closer you could get but you tried. You engulfed each other more and more after each moment that passed, feeling as if you could finally breathe. 

Your mind was foggy by the time you guys pulled apart, he pulled you into him peppering more pecks all over your face. He couldn’t get enough of you. 

Bradley had come to terms that he’d never see you again, and if he had, that you’d hate him. Seeing you now had resurfaced every urge he tamped down over the years, all the yearning that had followed him across the globe. 

He could never outrun you. Every time he saw you, he clenched his fist to suppress the feeling, the need of wanting to hold you. He missed how you felt in his arms. Having you here now overwhelmed him, but he didn’t care. Not if it meant having you in his life again. 

You took time recuperating, listening to the rise and fall of his chest. Feeling the electricity in your fingertips as you drew meaningless shapes on his forearm, tracing your way up and outlining every detail of his face, just as he had done to you. Feeling how angular he was now boiled up a little grief on the time you guys lost, but he was here, and he was real. 

The silence broke when he started to rasp out the lyrics to Time After Time. A belly laugh breaking through your lips with his off-key singing. 

“Now Bradley…I saw that little performance you did the other day, why am I getting the short end of the stick?” 

This only prompted him to sing worse, pitching his voice high and squeaky during the second chorus. He held your cheeks as he sang to you, singing into them in a half peck until he pulled away to sing the high notes. 

His voice became quieter in the last verse, his tone gentle and lulling you as you hummed along. He hadn’t taken his hands off of you, still caressing your cheeks in small circles. The moment felt familiar and the ache in your chest had turned into a warm glow that radiated through your body. 

You stared at him for a moment longer, cutting him off with another kiss before he got the last lyric out. This one was much slower, controlled. The raw need had turned into something tender. 

He took his time feeling you out, his tongue working yours as his hands traveled up and down your body. Hands teasingly drumming along the back of your ribs. 

His touch was light as if his fingers were dancing across your skin. His other hand moved closer to your front, his thumb sliding under the sideband of your bra and caressing the tender skin. A small moan floated out of your throat. Too lost in what his hands were doing. 

Bradley wasn’t timid, he was savoring every inch of skin he came across. “Bradley..” You groaned out, your own hands sliding down his chest. 

He pulled away, looking at you with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Yes, Bugs?” He asked, kissing down your jaw and to the bottom of your ear. He licked and sucked his way down your collarbone, his hands still kneading your skin. 

“Please..” You huffed out, “Please touch me.” Your voice had gone raw and breathy. Bradley's eye dilated. Taking in as much detail as he could in the low light. He complied with your request, the hand that was already under your bra pushing you up slightly to readjust you and sliding your bra up in one swift motion. You arched your back to give him more access. 

Each movement you made had heat pooling down his body, his breath scalding as he took your nipple in his mouth. If you didn’t know better you’d think he was teasing you, but you did. You knew Bradley. 

He loved pleasing, but just as much as he was a giver he was selfish, he would take his time until he was ready to cherish another part of your body, whether you were whimpering under him or not. Your hands found purchase on his scalp, pulling his head back and he came off you with a lewd ‘pop’. You leaned towards him and kissed him hard, grinding as much as you could into his lap. 

The sense of urgency building between you only got worse as he pulled away from the kiss. Shushing your whimpers. Heat had been building at the apex of your thighs and you were lit hot with need. 

His tongue worked its way back down to your chest, “Let me finish this first.” He looked up at you, and you glared.“Don’t worry Bugs, I’ll take care of you.”

Time felt infinite, his tongue ran over the puckered pink flesh, pawing your other tit until you were practically begging him to fuck you, but Bradley didn’t cave. He hadn’t had you like this in years and he’ll be damned if he didn’t savor every part of skin he touched. 

When he got down to your belly button he shifted both of you, holding your head as he laid you down on your back. You sat up on your elbows in anticipation, but Bradley had other plans. He looked up as he unbuttoned your pants, looking for permission to continue. You nodded. His movements were graceful, as soon as a piece of your legs were exposed he placed well-intentioned pecks, lightly suckling the flesh. 

He’d just pressed a gentle kiss on your ankle when a wave of apprehension washed over you. As if sensing your anxiety, he shushed you, “If it’s too much, tell me now. I want you to be comfortable.” His thumbs rubbing your knees, keeping your legs together. 

Gnawing on your bottom lip had always been a bad habit of yours, Bradley hated seeing the teeth marks you’d chew the sides of your mouth. His thumb reached out to gently tug it mid-bite. “Bugs..” He pressed a gentle kiss to your knee and a shiver ran down your spine. 

Without thinking, your body moved on its own, your legs pulling apart to give Bradley access. You felt vulnerable being exposed to him, allowing him to see just how worked up you were. His silence made it even worse. You couldn't understand what he was thinking, but the nervousness from before was kicking in and your knees wobbled closer together. 

Bradley was having none of it. He laid as flat on his stomach as he could, hanging his chin low as he was enveloped in your scent. A mewl came out of your mouth, “I know,” His lips left a trail of gentle pecks. “I’ll get there I promise baby.” 

The tension was twirling in your stomach, knotting tighter with each mark he sucked between your thighs. “Bradley..” You whimpered. “Please, Bradley...I need you.” You watched a small smirk curve on his face. “I know baby. I can see how wet you are.” 

Had this been anybody else, the shame would have burned your chest red. But this was Bradley, emboldened you thrust your hips up towards his mouth. He pulled his head back. “Bradley!” You cried. 

Unphased, he continued his ministrations. Kissing and pulling the gentle flesh of your outer lips into his mouth. Leaving a trail of spit everywhere but where you needed him. Tears threatened to spill over onto your cheeks. He paused, looking up at you, “Just for your Bugs.” Bradley licked a long thick strip up your cunt, moaning as he tasted you. It’d been years since he last had the privilege and a new hunger sparked in him. 

His lips latched to your aching nub, his thumb pressing at the base of your entrance, massaging your in small circles. Pleasure thrashed through your body and you nearly saw white. His free arm came up to pin your hips down, almost holding you to his mouth. Bradley moaned with each suck to your clit, suckling lewdly. The noise alone had you aching for more. 

His name came out in breathy pants, and each time curse that followed was motivation for Bradley to keep going. Blood pooled into his cock. The head pressing against his zipper as he ground himself into the backseat for friction. Your mewls and whines left his mind hazy. All he knew was he wanted you. He missed your taste, and he was going to make sure he was satiated tonight. 

Your cunt clenched as his thumb teased your entrance. Your body wanton and pliant, he had you molded perfectly to his tongue. He pushed his thumb into your entrance and you gasped. It wasn't enough. You needed more to feel properly filled. 

“Fuck—You’re tight.” He replaced his thumb with two digits, opening you up inside and searching for your sweet spot. Your back arched once more, arm coming up to grab onto the window, onto anything to support you through your impending climax.

Bradley smiled at you from between your thighs. “Did I find it?” His fingers pressing up into you and curling. Your legs latched to his shoulders, hips gyrating to meet his pace.

“Bradley—I’m gon-” You arched again, vision whiting out as he suckled your cunt. “Come on baby,” He mumbled, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you. “Give me the first one.” Your body compiled. Your hands scrambled to latch onto anything to guide you through the heat that encompassed your body. 

As you came down, you registered Bradley's fingers still in you, gently pressing inside your inner walls. He’d been laying gentle pecks on your cunt as your body recalibrated. His teeth marking any free flesh he saw on your inner thighs. 

You moved away from him, hands pushing his head away. But Bradley didn’t budge. You realized too late what he was gunning for when his mouth sealed onto your cunt once more. Continuing his relentless pace as if he never slowed down. 

“Bradley,” You called to him. He didn’t respond, “Bradley!”  You cried. “I can’t—fuck—I can’t.” Scooting yourself up, but it didn’t work. Bradley held you firm to his mouth. 

“You can.” He growled, lapping at your cunt. His eyes had blurred out, dilated, and focused on giving you another orgasm. The overstimulation was clawing its way through your nerves, shooting tingles down into the soles of your feet as you became breathless. 

You were close, so close. Bradley could you feel tightening around his fingers, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “One more baby. Just one more.” He groaned into you, the sound of his voice cresting you over into white-hot pleasure. His hips ground out into the seat one last time, your screams pushing him over the edge to finish. 

He slowed his pace to match your breathing as you came down. Being mindful of your twitching the more he played with your pussy. You leaned against the doorframe, legs lazily splayed open, Bradley between them leaving gentle pecks, each one sending your legs into a spasm. Your handprints had been seared into the window, and you looked down at him with a lazy grin. 

You tugged on his hair to signal him, wanting him up by your mouth to kiss him. He moved, but not before sucking your clit and leaving a gentle kiss on the apex of your cunt one last time. He sat up, massaging your thighs, knowing they’d be sore tomorrow. 

Leaning close, you tugged him to you by the back of his neck, kissing him slowly, tasting you on his tongue. He moaned into your mouth, a cheeky grin on his face, “You sure you can’t give me one more?” He was mostly joking, but you shook your head no, laughing breathlessly at his pout.

You frowned in response, “Bradley, what about you? Let me—” but before you could finish he hushed you, “Don’t worry about me. This was about you and just seeing you get off on my tongue was enough.” He smirked, “Trust me, we both are satisfied.” 

He peppered kisses all over your face, “You did so good for me baby.” He kissed you once, “So so good.” He kissed you again, holding it a little longer, before moving back a little to look at you, fucked out and eyelids heavy, “You’re beautiful.” He murmured. 

You looked at him, noting his puffy lips that would be chapped tomorrow, his flushed cheeks, and the gentle expression he had as he admired you. “I missed you so much, Bradley.” You couldn’t get enough of him, pecking his cheeks and rubbing circles under his jawline. “Thank you,” You whispered, and you meant it. Bradley was extremely generous, but you forgot just how generous he was. 

“I missed you too Bugs.” He held his lips to your forehead, putting your hair behind your ears before shuffling to grab your pants. He was tempted to lick you clean, but your eyelids became heavy with each passing moment and he was sure he’d never hear the end of it if you were any later for your sleepover. 

Bradley was tender as he helped you dress, hands working on your muscles every chance he got. You were always sore the day after and he hadn’t forgotten. It’d taken you a while before you’d noticed your panties missing. Another laugh made its way out of you, “Bradshaw?” You called to him as you got your shoes back on. He looked at you, eyebrows creased. “Just where oh where, have my panties gone?” 

He looked around dumbfounded.  Feigning innocence. “I’m not sure Bugs. They might be stuck under the seat.” You didn’t buy it for a second. “Really?” You questioned. 

“Are you sure they aren’t hiding somewhere in your pocket?” You grinned lazily, enjoying yourself as you watched his neck flush red again. “For safekeeping?” He said meekly. 

“You’re lucky I like you.” You said, pecking him one more time before making your way to the front seat. The wind had picked up, causing sand to coat the car. It’d be a bitch to drive with the window shield, but it was a small price to pay if it meant no one could see just how wrecked Bradley had you. 

He threw a leg over the console, settling into the driver's seat. Bradley stole glances at you. Watching as your frame relaxed into the seat. He reached over and buckled you in, stirring you awake. 

“Shhh…I’ll drive you back to Penny’s. You might be an hour late, but you’ll make it for girls' night.” You grinned. “Ah, Amelia is going to kill me if I’m any later than Penny. Judging by the time, I’m cutting it close Mr.Bradshaw.” 

He kissed you, flattening your hair before starting the car. The ride back wasn’t long. Empty roads meant a 25-minute drive instead of 45. The hum of the car stirred you awake. Wind fitting itself around the car and lightly tapping the windows. You admired Bradley's side profile. He hadn’t realized you were awake and you took advantage of it, “You know…you stare kind of loudly.” He rasped out. 

Your hands came to cover your face. You looked out the window to avoid eye contact and he grabbed your thigh, wanting your attention. “So…you like me?” He questioned. 

Dumbfounded, it took a second before you recalled what you said before knocking out. 

“Bradley!” You exclaimed. His laughter reverberating and leaving a warm glow in your chest. 

taglist! (new thing i'll start doing from here on out, if anyone wants to be added let me know)

@that-daughter-of-hephaestus

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

🍓!

Very sorry if this anon has been taken ( ;´ - `;)

Okay, so— I don’t have a very defined going out aesthetic but I do switch between these preset outfits from time to time (a. A nice soft artsy girl look with baggy pants and a green cardigan, b. baggy cargo pants with all the pockets you could ever need and more and a size large shirt I hand-cropped) very loose, I like using mismatched socks and worn black shoes. I always come with my backpack strapped to my back and old friendship bracelets around my wrist.

I’m a loser (╥﹏╥) so I don’t have much experience picking up.. uh, lads…? But I would probably rizz via small thoughtful gifts I hand made or probably remember them by. Maybe if I draw us together often and gift it to him it might give him a clue (ᵕ—ᴗ—) I would probably blabber about small things I notice about them, “Looking sharp!” “Every time I see you I remind myself to get shades, you’re so bright.” “Smile more often, I love seeing you happy.” “What’s wrong? You’ve been frowning…” Use a cheesy pick up line or two, laugh it off.

Text them at random showing them things I find (“look at this bottle cap. think I’m gonna keep it”) or am doing (“tell me the correct ways to use a power drill or I might blow a hole into my walls”), slide in an ask to hang out again. Gift them a pink camellia (roses are probably too forward) every once and while because men also deserve flowers. Try to get close but back off if I see even an inch on uncomfortability, hugs, tugs, silly hand reading, light touches here and there. Honestly I think I would snap and ask them out first.

Sorry if this is too long! Thank you and have a good day or night, feel free to ignore (´ε｀ )♡!

you sound cute as hell tbqh. (ⓛ ω ⓛ)

here's how this actually goes down: at first you're down bad for Soap. he knows it; his buddies know it. but you're soft and shy enough that he can pretend with plausible deniability he doesn't notice. you figure he's gonna overlook you for not being gf material--however. Gaz notices you are a catch and steals you right out from under him.

Soap totally strings you along. totally content biding his time until he can be bothered to get you alone and seal the deal. like, corrupt you.

but no rush. he figures he's got plenty of time. you're so hung up on him; you're not about to go chasing after some other guy.

nobody ever accused you of being a great judge of character where your romantic interest is concerned.

"every time i see you," you tell him, "i remind myself to get shades. because you're so bright."

ah. soap smirks. flattery will get you everywhere. "if i'm blindin' ya so bad, stop starin' so much."

he loves being chased, so what's wrong with a little teasing?

and since you're inexperienced with flirting, how are you gonna say no?

but then Gaz looks over Soap's shoulder and sees one too many of the cute little texts you send him. he scoffs at first at the game-playing of it all. but then he notices as you slowly start to leave Soap little gifts, flowers--trinkets that remind you of him, you say. it drives Gaz out of his mind. he gets this weird feeling that you're perfect, you're gonna make someone so happy, and you're being wasted on some dude who won't even take you out on a date.

Gaz also knows better than to tell you outright how Soap's a prick. you're too nice; you'll just defend him. justify his behavior. your crush on him blinds you. 

so instead, Gaz sits down silently next to you one day and watches you sketch. your attention to detail is impressive. loving, even. a spiral of envy squeezes his heart. Gaz tries to tell himself it's pity instead. Soap is a lucky bastard. doesn't know what he's got, clearly.

then, Gaz offers you one surefire way to get Soap's attention.

"it's easy," he tells you, silver-tongued. "man's a peacock. best way to his heart is through his pride." when you don't catch on, he nudges you with his shoulder. "make him jealous."

immediately he has you, hook line and sinker. that's all you really want, right? Soap's attention. 

fake dating Gaz. what could go wrong. 

naturally it's not long before Gaz is the one who has you wrapped around his finger instead. he's the better choice for you anyway <3

Soap still pesters Gaz from time to time to send him a picture or two of you. insists you've got to be sending them somewhere since you're not hitting him up anymore. he steals Gaz's phone to get a better look at the spicy ones

more Gaz / more Soap / masterlist

[widow-tarot]

PAC: Why Are They So Hot&Cold?

Do you want to support me? Reblog or tip me! - paypal.me/sadwidow

Groups: 1-2-3 4-5-6

Instruction: Think about your person while choosing a group. Do not use more than 1 group for one person. This is only for entertainment purposes.

If you don’t feel drawn to any group, this reading is not for you.

(Want to book a private reading? DM me or check the pinned post!)

Decks Used: The Mystic Dreamer Tarot, Island Time Wellness Love Oracle Cards.

PILE ONE

Cards: 3 of Cups, Judgement, 9 of Swords, 10 of Cups, Boat (Progression, Moving On, Closure Issues), The Runner rx (fear of intimacy, listening to ego), Not Today rx (not dealing, hurt, avoiding a conversation/person, boundaries).

There are too many people around to see how they behave around you. No matter if you're asking about a crush or a potential friend, they care a lot about what other people think, at least in your immediate surroundings (work/school). They don't want to be judged or they don't want their actions misunderstood by other people, maybe even you too but it connects to other people more. They're happy with how things are or at least they're... at peace with how things are. It's not like the connection between you guys is bad, it's just... like it's being kept at a distance. If you delve deeper, the connection might break and sour the work/school environment so they also are trying to avoid that. However, I do feel like they're working on fixing/changing that part of themselves. Can't promise anything will be different, it really depends on the person you're asking about. They're very much trapped in their own mind and perceptions. Very much blockage in the heart/throat chakra.

SONGS:

Door by Mitski (There is a door to me; I've never seen it; Sometimes I get closer to it; But I've never found it; A hopeless violence; I named it love)

my future by Billie Eilish (Can't you hear me?; I'm not comin' home; Do you understand?; I've changed my plans; But I know better; Than to drive you home; 'Cause you'd invite me in; And I'd be yours again)

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas by Phoebe Bridgers (Someday soon we all will be together; If the fates allow; Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow)

Unfinished by Noah Cyrus (Now I've got you on my mind; And I'm wonderin' tonight; If we could've been more; But we were left unfinished; I flew back to the life I knew; Left you asleep there in the hotel room; I told myself that it was for the best)

TAKE THIS HOME by DE'WAYNE, Good Charlotte (Take this crown away from me; I hold myself with no esteem; There's no joy in victory; All my heart feels is defeat)

first day of my life by gnash, Goody Grace (And so I thought I'd let you know; That these things take forever; I especially am slow; But I realize that I need you; And I wondered if I could come home)

PILE TWO

Cards: The Tower, The Chariot rx, High Priestess rx, 10 of Pentacles, The Phoenix (new phase, rekindle, growth), Love Call rx (message of love), The Runner rx (fear of intimacy, listening to ego).

At the moment I think they are going through something in their life or some major chaotic change is coming for them, hence The Tower. Honestly seems like they're in their own world, I think the hot and cold is not even on purpose, they don't even see it and if they do, they don't think it's a big deal or that it affects you. You're not at the center of their focus atm and maybe you're also a painful reminder of something as well (very specific for a selected few). They think very highly of you though. If you want them to approach you and explain their behavior, then you're gonna be gravely disappointed. They don't think they're doing something wrong or anything to hurt you so why would they feel the need to explain themselves? But they are changing, that's for sure.

SONGS:

There's Nothing Left For You by Mitski (There's nothin' left for you; Nothin' in this room; Try and go outside Nothin' waits for you; You had it once before; Not anymore; So go on to that sweetheart's door; And find a new you)

LUNCH by Billie Eilish (I could eat that girl for lunch; Yeah, she dances on my tongue; Tastes like she might be the one; And I could never get enough; I could buy her so much stuff; It's a craving, not a crush)

Christmas Song by Phoebe Bridgers (The desire for annihilation; Is as common as it is unkind; And it's hard to recognize the situation; When you're desperately trying to have a good time; You don't have to be alone to be lonesome; It's so easy to forget; The sadness comes crashing like a brick through the window)

Ready To Go by Noah Cyrus (I've lost all the words; Feels like my heart's been tied up; I wait 'til it hurts; I never can choose; I stay, we'll burn; 'Til you leave first)

Bleed Magic by I DONT KNOW BUT THEY FOUND ME (Don't want to scare you off'; Don't want to know your name; You'll never know a single thing about me; Until it's far too late)

SICK by gnash, CXLOE (Why you being so nice to me; I don't like the niceties; I wish I could make you see what I really need; I want you to make me sick; Love me out my mind)

PILE THREE

Cards: Queen of Cups, Wheel of Fortune rx, The World, 9 of Cups, The Grim Reaper (relationship is over, no second chances, grow and transform), Clock rx (need time, takes time, cycles), The Butterfly rx (relationship evolving, growth)

It's weird. It's like they enjoy spending time with you but at the same time, they know they have to cut it to a minimum because you either aren't good for them or they're trying to... leave? It's like smiling at you when you talk, having those fun convos about various topics, and laughing together but then the reality hits them and they withdraw. They think of you fondly though, but it's like they can't let themselves be swept into whatever this is with you so when the moment passes, they distance themselves again. But then, they have a good day again, they're positive again and they're starting the same thing with you. It's like they want to stay but they can't. You either aren't good for them or you can't be one that's good for them (someone else is already good for them). I assume you're asking when this person went cold again - this period will last a longer time for sure, but they have so much fondness for you at the same time.

SONGS:

Class of 2013 by Mitski (Mom, I'm tired; Can I sleep in your house tonight?; Mom, is it alright; If I stay for a year or two?)

Happier Than Ever by Billie Eilish (When I'm away from you, I'm happier than ever; Wish I could explain it better; I wish it wasn't true; Don't say it isn't fair; You clearly weren't aware that you made me miserable)

Georgia by Phoebe Bridgers (Georgia, I love your son; And when he gets older, he might be the one; And he never lies or picks up his phone; And sometimes in the pouring rain; He'll fall in the mud and get back up again)

Again by Noah Cyrus, XXXTENTACION (You just made the worst mistake; And you'll regret it, darling; 'Cause once you give and then you take; You'll only end up wanting; You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear; So tell me that you love me again)

WHAT LOVE? by I DONT KNOW HOW THEY FOUND ME (What love would get this vicious?; That's right, but never mind; This blood sometimes, holiness brings you; I think you've got a hold of me; But don't let go and I'll never set you free; You only come around when I got somebody new; You only sacrifice the things I never ask you to)

pajamas by gnash (Let's be immature and ignorant; 'Cause I don't feel like being sad; I wonder if the last generation was better; I wonder if the next one's going to hell; Am I the solution, am I the problem?; Let's stay in our pajamas; Let's not leave the house; It's been real bad lately; But I feel pretty good right now)

PILE FOUR

Cards: 4 of Pentacles rx, Knight of Swords, 4 of Cups rx, The Chariot rx, Heartbroken rx (deeply hurt, sad, feeling lost, breakup), Twin Flames (zen, balance, union, complementing each other), Healthy Choices rx (self-love, making good choices, being happier).

They know they're attached to you. It's an unhealthy mechanism they have, or maybe attaching themselves to you doesn't seem healthy. They're trying to distance themselves from you while not completely cutting you off because they can't. It's not that you are the problem here, but in their eyes, this type of dependency will ruin them, so they're trying to control it somehow. They want you in their life; they just need to digest the situation and make a plan. They're pretty stagnant right now, unable to find a way on how to move with this connection or change their codependency. For now, they're improvising.

SONGS:

Old Friend by Mitski (We nearly drowned for such a silly thing; Someone who loves me now better than you; I haven't told anyone, just like we promised; Have you?)

Lo Vas A Olvidar by Billie Eilish, ROSALIA (Tell me if you still miss me; Tell me if you still won't forgive me; Tell me if we still have something in common; Love can't be measured steadily; One day I'm a Goddess and the next day I can break)

Garden Song by Phoebe Bridgers (And when I grow up, I'm gonna look up; From my phone and see my life; I don't know how, but I'm taller; It must be something in the water; Everything's growing in our garden; You don't have to know that it's haunted)

Snow in LA by Noah Cyrus, PJ Harding (It's Christmas in California; Where the redwoods been burning for days; While the gold embers glow; The church bells are ringing on Sunset; But the preachers got nothing to say; If it turns out we all; Just weren't worth dying for)

Leave Me Alone by I DON'T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME (You took the money; But the money couldn't buy a friend; Go fly a kite until you're tangled in the hanging tree; Aristocrat, tip your hat and break your mother's heart; And when the sun comes up; You'll find a brand new god)

I Wanna Feel Good by gnash, Chris James (I swear I try, I do the best that I can; To keep together when I know that I can't now; I've had it up to here with self-doubt and these second thoughts; I'm tired of pretending to be someone that I'm not)

O Little Town of Betlehem by Lily Williams (How still we see thee lie; Above thy deep and dreamless sleep; While mortals sleep, the angels keep; Their watch of wondering love)

PILE FIVE

Cards: Wheel of Fortune, Knight of Wands, Ace of Pentacles, 7 of Pentacles rx, Ace of Swords, Lightning (sudden change, surprise, epiphany), Passion (insane chemistry, having fun), Coffin (Endings bring new beginnings, growth, liberation), Ascending rx (transcending obstacles, expansion, new phase).

Short answer: because they're happy. It seems like everything is going alright at the moment, so they don't need you anymore. It's selfish and very opportunistic but at the same time they haven't decided yet what to do with this connection. Do you need this connection? Is it a connection worthy of your attention and effort? It seems like you're the only one keeping it alive. I don't want to say that they're a shallow person but it seems like they're very opportunistic, using good people and then leaving them behind. You had good foundations for this connection to grow but they don't really care about growing something with you.

SONGS:

Thursday Girl by Mitski (Somebody please tell me no; It shows me what I am; I'm not happy or sad, just up or down; And always bad)

my future by Billie Eilish (Can't you hear me?; I'm not comin' home; Do you understand?; But I know better than to drive you home; 'Cause you'd invite me in; And I'd be yours again;  I'm in love with my future; And you don't know her)

Walking On a String by Phoebe Bridgers, Matt Berninger (The things you said are hanging in the middle of my mind tonight; I knew that I was dead before you touched my lonesome skin; You're never running out of ways to warm your way back in)

Oh What a Dream We Had by Michal David, Richard Marx, Billion Streams For Charity, Braison Cyrus, Lauri Ylönen, Marcelito Pomoy, Kimbra, Billy Ray Cyrus, Noah Cyrus (We held each other closer and dreamed the worst was over; a never-ending prayer to let every life be sweet; no heartache anywhere; a time for us to heal)

Mad IQs by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME (Come inside; Twist the knife; Like it's something to do; Don't you lose all your control; 'Cause you can't get into heaven; If you haven't got a soul; If you're sick or you're obscene; You can bend or you can break; But they'll replace you with machines)

feelings fade by gnash, RKCB (Don't know if I'll be fine without you; I hope I'll be alright without you; Everything's ending eventually; Best friends can become your enemies; Feelings fade when people change; I stayed the same; You played your games)

PILE SIX

Cards: 3 of Pentacles, Wheel of Fortune, King of Cups rx, Ace of Pentacles, The Phoenix (new phase, rekindle, change), Separation rx (sadness, missing you, unsure of future), Wedding Rings rx (union, wedding, eternal love).

You're still an important part of their life, but they want to move on to different stuff. They're not abandoning you, but they need to live their life too; you can't be there with them all the time. I don't know if there's any codependency or if you're really attached to this person, but I'm here to assure you that you're not being abandoned. I also think they start to feel trapped around you, like they're drowning. Give them some space. Let yourself enjoy your own presence or meet other people.

SONGS:

Cop Car by Mitski (We thought we had all night; There was no need to rush; That's when those cops came pulling up; I was too busy watching you going wild child; To be worried about going to jail; And you were so innocent, but you were stealing my heart; I fell in love in the back of a cop car)

when the party's over by Billie Eilish (Don't you know I'm no good for you?; I've learned to lose you, can't afford to; Tore my shirt to stop you bleedin'; But nothin' ever stops you leavin')

Killer by Phoebe Bridgers (Sometimes I think I'm a killer; I scared you in your house; I even scared myself by talking; Can the killer in me tame the fire in you?; Oh, is there nothing left to do for us?)

For Once In My Life by Noah Cyrus (I can go where life leads me; Somewhere I know I'll be strong; For once in my life; I won't let sorrow hurt me; This is mine, you can't take it; As long as I know I have love, I can make it)

Need You Here by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME (There is no other place in this world that I'd rather be; If I can't be at home then I'll send my apologies; Can't you stay right here forever pretty please?; Where do you go when you're not home?)

leave by gnash (It's all my fault if it makes things better; Blame it all on the change in the weather; I'm not saying I know how to save this; I'm just saying we've been here before; I lost my patience, made an ultimatum; Wrote it down and gave it on a piece of paper)

[luluahxo]

bonachita

14k - unedited - ni-ki x reader

warnings: 18+ smut, drug use, parental abuse, suicidal ideation

(this is unedited, its been in my drafts for over a month so I decided I'd just post it, maybe edit it in the future and move onto writing my other drafts. also met the most diabolical florida man while I was at the end of writing this. thinking of u babe!)

summary: my heart is a mess of thick, congealed blood from the pressure of the speed. I associated him with the paresthesia in my chest. I associated him with the sickness I enjoyed. cursed I believed myself to be, I didn’t mind being reworked. reworked into his image. this is not love but this is a bond. One that I cherish. drive me around the track in your Trans-Am one more time. take me to Bonachita. die with me there.

its florida in the spring when you meet Riki, the boy who encapsulates everything you silently dreamed for and everything you runaway from

[00MPH]

My heart is a mess of thick, congealed blood from the pressure of the speed. I associated him with the paresthesia in my chest. I associated him with the sickness I enjoyed. Cursed I believed myself to be, I didn’t mind being reworked. Reworked into his image. This is not love but this is a bond. One that I cherish. 

Drive me around the track in your Trans-Am one more time. 

Take me to Bonachita. 

Die with me there. 

[01MPH]

We first met with no words exchanged between us. I often spent time in the campus lounge situated on the first floor of the library.

Not wanting to go home or study, I was killing time by watching the 1970 Trans Am season. With my cell phone in hand and the sound of a race playing, I headed towards the vending machine for a snack, where he was crouched.

Only the tips of his blond hair could be seen peeking out from the gaps in his black hoodie.

I stared back at him awkwardly before realizing I should lower the volume on my phone. It was just me and him in the lounge on a Friday night but he seemed bothered by the noise. His face was striking, each feature harmonious like an old oil painting. His brows knit together and creased into the folds in between making an expression that gave me a sense of embarrassment. I gave up on getting a snack all together and went back to my seat.

I wouldn’t see him again for a while 

[02MPH]

I stayed on campus until late because I was a’ problem child’. To go home would be to bring problems. Me and my mother never agree, I’d always somehow manage to do the wrong thing. 

In her words ‘sorry meant nothing’. Her fits of anger often ended in something thrown or broken. Sometimes I felt like I deserved it. Other times I found her suffocating and over reactive. 

When I got to university I became a worse problem but all the same to her. 

I was frustrated I couldn’t leave my home or the shitty rundown town we lived in - no chance I’d ever have enough money. 

In my restless dissatisfaction I picked up some habits from the people around me. The first was cigarettes. Something about the smoky and burnt taste it left in my mouth soothed me alongside the buzz of nicotine. The time I started smoking was the time I also began accepting my college friends inviting me out.

I began going to campus parties but I never got wasted. Instead I began taking pills like valium or xanax. 

I sat slumped in the corners of houses and frat party bathrooms, happy in the intense drowsy calm I felt. 

I felt so damned.

In my blurred memories I can still remember when the boy from the vending machine appeared in front of me.

It was towards the end of Spring semester and I sat, muscles loose, by the edge of the pool. 

He was swimming in illuminated waters, the only light that shone in the pitch black night. Slowly he swam towards me, pushing his elbows up outside the pool and splashing water onto my face. I had been cut by the broken glass in one of my mother’s fits again that night and the chlorine in the water burned the fresh wound under my eye. 

Wincing from the pain I opened my eyes back to see a familiar face. That was when I knew it was him. His recognizable hair was now dark at the tips but his roots remained blond. Among everyone else he stood out. He said something I couldn’t understand in my drugged up mind and I leaned forward  to hear him better but my weak body fell into the water. 

My cut burned just as much as my lungs that inhaled the pool water. I could only see the surface become farther and in a numbing limbo I sank. My body wouldn’t move how I wanted. I couldn’t get my arms to push me upwards. My mind felt as if it was falling asleep and the urgency my body should feel was shut off. My half open eyes saw a silhouette come down towards me and I thought maybe it was an angel ready to take my soul away and relay my sins. 

The angel was a blur of blond that came to lift me out. Yet it was no angel, it was a boy.

His hands left a prickling sensation on my cold skin. My clothes stuck to my skin as closely as his gaze that never relented. I was pressed against him chest to chest, holding me afloat. 

All I could say was “Who are you?”

He told me his name was Riki and he held me in the pool throughout the night as I drifted out of consciousness, wondering if this was a fraction of what death felt like.

[03MPH]

I woke up feeling soggy sheets beneath me. The ceiling didn’t look familiar and my muscles were twitching from the crash of all the valium I took. My eyes regained focus but my mind remained foggy as I sat up and saw in front of me a passed out Riki in a chair. I called out his name but my voice came out hoarse. I could feel my muscles tighten uncomfortably as I crawled towards him and reached out from the edge of the bed. 

To be honest I was becoming terrified at the unfamiliar setting. I had no idea where I was and my own body could barely function. I collapsed forward causing my fingertips to graze Riki’s knee. My face was nestled in the sheets and I felt my muscles wreak havoc on my state of being. My jaw fell slack from the sheer pain of the spasms. 

I could hear movement from where Riki sat and no longer felt his knee against my hand.

He groaned from what I could tell was him waking up. The chair squeaked as he stood to his feet and a small shadow fell over me. A cold hand wrapped around my chin and I faced his sleepy eyes looking down at me. 

“You’re a mess aren’t you.”

I could see his hair was still damp as if he came here with me straight from the pool. His cold hands pushed me up to sit on my legs which he pulled out from under me to hang over the bed. His other hand rested on the back of my head. In his freezing embrace I shook. The only warmth I felt was from the small tears that began to form in my eyes. 

Riki began to caress my hair, his hand that moved my legs wrapping around my side.

I wanted to ask why he was treating a stranger like this but my voice was still gone from my dry throat and mouth.

“You’ll be fine,” he said. His words confused me more than they soothed me. 

Sometimes my body reacted badly to the pills I took but it’d always pass. This reaction was heightened compared to all those in the past though. 

I hated to appear this way in front of a stranger.

I pressed my hands down into the mattress and tried to lift myself up on my own. Horsley I managed to ask where we were. 

He told me it was his campus apartment. 

My voice came out disgustingly as I responded in shock, “Why? I don't know you.”

He sighed and leaned back on his palms.

“What else could I do when you passed out in my arms. You didn’t come with any friends.”

At my silence he got up and pulled the sheets off the bed from beneath me, noting they were wet due to coming straight from the pool. He left the room and I sat looking down at myself. My shorts had ridden up my thighs, my shirt strap was falling off my shoulder, the fabric had bunched up, and my hair felt damp against skin. All the while my body still trembled.

I was an absolute mess.

Riki came back into the room with clean sheets, setting them down on the bedside table before helping me off the bed and into the chair he once sat in. 

“What time is it?”

He pointed at his small bedside clock, “Four in the morning.”

He threw the sheets over the bed and tucked them in as I watched

“Do you wanna stay the night?”

If I went home like this my mother would do more than throw a bottle. 

“If you don’t mind.”

He smiled and said he didn’t.

I decided I’d hold my questions for when I wasn’t in such a pathetic state.

[04MPH]

I got ready to leave Riki’s apartment at around ten in the morning. I passed by him asleep on the couch while thinking of excuses to give my mother. His face was peaceful like an angel’s. I couldn’t help but admire the soft slope of his nose that led to his pouty lips illuminated by the morning light. I crouched down in front of him and at my presence his eyelashes fluttered open. He seemed to be a light sleeper. Sitting up he rubbed the sleep away from his eyes and asked if I was leaving. 

“Yeah, but thank you for last night”

As I stood up he reached out for my wrist.

“Let me give you a ride.”

“It’s ok you helped me out enough.”

He sat up straight and persisted.

“No no it's really ok.”

I relented,

“Ok.”

I didn’t wanna pay for a ride anyway I guess.

He ran into his room, grabbing a hoodie and cap to cover the mess of his morning hair. I kicked my legs on the couch as he fumbled around the apartment, looking for his keys, brushing his teeth, and mumbling. He seemed more boyish in these moments than when I’d seen him before when his expression was cold and distant. Behind all the mysteriousness perhaps Riki was an average boy. I put my own shoes on and stood by the door.

Once Riki was ready, we headed out to his car. I stopped in amazement when I saw that it was a 2012 Boss.

It looked just like the car I'd seen in the 1970 Trans Am season. Even the retro stripes were perfectly recreated, and I couldn’t help laughing out loud in awe.

"You have a 302 Mustang?"

Riki smiled mischievously as he ran his hand down the side of the car.

"Do you like cars?"

"No, not really. But I like watching vintage races.”

"I've been obsessed with it since I saw it in the 70s season."

"It’s beautiful. You can drive a manual?"

Riki rolled his eyes a little and responded in amusement.

"Of course."

He unlocked the car and I got in the passenger seat. Riki immediately started the car and the Mustang rumbled to life. As he pulled out of the lot, the side pipes let out a sharp bark, echoing through the residence. 

“You’re definitely not from around here, no one can afford something like this here,” I mused.

“I’m not, I’m from Bonachita.”

“Bonachita?”

“It’s a West Coast city,” He turned and smirked at me, “But where are we going.”

“Just keep going straight, I'll tell you when to turn.”

“Do you party often?”

Riki’s question broke the silence in between my directions.

“I just started going this past semester, my friends invite me out sometimes.” “I didn’t see you with them though?”

It was true, me and my friends sort of went separate ways at parties. They’d probably find a guy, dance, drink and I’d find a good corner to get high off pills. Still, there were times we’d spend the night together.

“I saw you all alone too?”

Riki hummed, tapping the steering wheel in thought before answering.

“That was my first time going to one. I didn’t recognize much of anyone until I saw you so I came up to you but then everything happened.”

‘Didn’t someone invite you? How come you were all one.”

“Not really, I just heard around about it.”

“Not a party person, huh?”

His smile was shy, “No.”

“You’d think a boy that looks like you is.” 

“A boy like me?.”

“You know, dyed hair, ear piercings, the denim and leather jackets.”

“Just not my thing.”

“Rather focus on school?”

His nod was slow, like he had more reasoning than my explanation but ran with it.

I directed Riki all the way until a couple blocks before my house and had him drop me off.  

Before I could get out of the car he folded his hands on top of the steering wheel and rested on his chin to face me. 

“Don’t be a stranger.” 

It seemed our friendly conversation made me forget about all that happened just the night before. I didn’t know if he even realized I was gone on pills. What did he think? Was it even normal to bring a stranger home like that even if they had passed out? I didn’t know. I guess guys bring girls to their place all the time and have their way with them but Riki seemed to have had a different motivation. 

“Why’d you help me out so much?”

Riki hesitated for a brief second.

“You seemed lonely.”

“That on its own?”

His smile grew weak, “I guess I was too.”

At a party full of people ‘lonely’. Funny. 

I walked down the block home with my heart a little warmer than before.

[05MPH]

The warmth I felt was fresh blood. 

Don’t get my mother wrong, she’s not a violent woman. She’s just not okay. I shouldn’t have pushed her limits. If I was a little more considerate, if I thought of someone other than myself I wouldn’t experience this. 

Yet there I go thinking of myself all over again.

Silly of me to come home with a joy that neglected all my actions, forgetting that there's consequences for any decision. 

The moment I came through the door I saw her sitting at the dining room table a hall down. Her blank stare went nowhere but became sharp as I approached. Her sudden screams scratched at my ear drums, asking ‘where I was, who did I think I was, just because dad left do I think I can do whatever I want’. 

My apologies reached deaf ears. It was impossible regardless for me to look genuinely apologetic coming home like this. 

She held her head in her hands and kept mumbling over and over again before looking back up at me with an indescribable face.

With a final yell, she snapped, “Don’t look at me like that.” She threw her morning cup of coffee straight at me. 

Lucky for me it was empty. Still the porcelain shattered at contact and dug into the skin of my collarbone, eyebrow, and arms. The searing pain resounded simultaneously in every spot I had been pierced. At my feet the pieces of the cup lay like a halo. I couldn’t look up. I didn’t have it in me to face her eyes and could only count the pieces of shattered porcelain to hold back my burning tears that bubbled through my throat and to my eyes. 

She wouldn’t look at me or speak to me after. 

It’d last days.

She did that with my dad once.

She went upstairs.

I cleaned the mess.

[06MPH]

I trembled with anxiety as I bandaged my new cuts in the mirror. Every creak or slamming door made me flinch. Even though the bathroom door was locked I was afraid she’d walk in. From my school bag I pulled out a tiny plastic baggie I had for a while now. I was reluctant to use it, but I thought maybe it would ease the pain for now. I emptied the contents onto the counter top and attempted to line it up with the edge of a cleanser bottle. I brought my nose down to the edge and pressed my index finger against the side of my nose.

White powder glaciers, broken up and inhaled by me.

I rubbed my nose clean and quietly slipped through the front door. It was Monday, I had to show up to class. 

I never did make it though. 

Once I got to campus I found myself circling around hallways I’d never been down before. My brain found I had to read all the boards in the Humanities Department before going anywhere but then I also had to stare at the senselessly big television in the Business building that showed the stock market. I was in the Engineering hallway when I ran into Riki. When I saw him flocking out of class alongside the rest of his classmates I reacted with no inhibitions and grabbed onto his shoulder. His pretty face turned to me with shock. It’s been over a  week since we actually saw one another. Such an entrancing expression with the furrow in his brows. Immediately I begged him to take me for a ride.

”Let’s take a drive, let's go.”

He looked at me as if I told him to come with me and kill the president.

Maybe I came off suddenly but I bubbled with the desire to use my free will and so I did. This euphoria was blending my heart into my mind and I made decisions with no further contemplation than the mere thought.

”Please, please.”

”Do you not have class?”

”Do you have class?”

”No..”

My other hand rose to his shoulder as if I was a coach pep-talking my star athlete.

“Then let's go.”

He laughed me off, “I guess I can’t say no to you.”

[07MPH]

The bumps and slopes of the winding roads felt as if the wheels were shoes I wore while walking on the street. The speed with the windows down during a warm April evening could only be described as fresh. I felt this was the youth that I hadn't yet lived. The coke enhanced every passing gust of wind into a euphoria I wanted to drown in. I rested my shoulder blades on the open window and looked up at the sky, my hair blowing violently around me. Is that the sky where the angels sit looking down on us? Is it just a metaphor? Were the angels on my shoulders falling off from the accelerating speed of Riki’s car?  

I bent further out the window, now turning around to rest on my elbows before I felt a tug on my hair pulling me back inside the car.

Riki’s eyes stayed on the road just as his hands in my hair did. 

“Are you trying to kill yourself?”

I laughed deliriously and leaned onto his shoulder.

“No.”

Heaven is a beautiful place for the dead but I wouldn’t see it, so why die now?

Riki’s eyes flickered from me to the road again.

“Why is your face all cut up?”

I ignored him and bored holes into his side profile with my eyes. I wanted to take a piece of him, put it in my pocket, ingest it, make it a part of me, cherish it, admire it, possess it. Just never lose it.

I bit onto the sharp point of his jaw. It looked like it’d fit perfectly between my teeth, soft and supple skin, pulled taught around his bone. It felt like a layer of marshmallow candy. Sweet like his face, the taste.

Riki yelped out in pain.

“Actually what is wrong with you?!”

“You look so soft.”

“Are you on something?”

I shrugged my shoulders gleefully and sat back in my seat properly.

I felt my filter had really turned into dust.

“It just happens sometimes when my mom gets mad, she throws something, I get cut, the end. She’s just lonely without my dad, it’s only me and her so she’s sensitive.”

My head rolled over to face Riki and I spoke on.

“Are you lonely? Do you still feel lonely when you’re with me?”

Silence.

Until Riki finally countered.

“I'm not from here. I'm not even from the West Coast originally. I’ve met plenty of people, but still-

even if the city is full of people and the room is crowded, if you can't connect with anyone, it's just loneliness.

I thought that one day I would meet people I could truly connect with. But in the end, that "someone" never showed up.”

“Then who am I to you?”

His laugh was gentle, “A lucky stranger.”

“There's nothing lucky about me.”

“Then why am I happy?”

“Then smile at me.”

Riki never turned to look at me, but I saw the sweetest image of joy form in the shape of his lips, upwards, all the way to his genuine eyes.

[08MPH]

With no direction he drove onward, and the sun drifted down giving space for the moon.

After driving aimlessly Riki parked by the road next to the beach. There's no beach in Florida you could say isn’t a sight. 

I asked him if the West Coast beaches are anything like the ones in Florida. He said the water is a duller shade over there. I asked what the beach was like at his original home, before Bonachita. He said there's a coastline, it only exists in his memories blurred with time, but beautiful nonetheless and better than any Florida beach. 

I jested and said he must be homesick. My high is gone, I’m thinking of my own home when I ask. 

Riki said if he had to call a place home it would be there, and so yes he’s homesick.

I asked him why he's far from home.

The reason is he wants to be a mechanical engineer, there's no better place than the US to get an education for it. He has the money to back it too. 

He turns the conversation back onto me.

“What are you studying for?”

I don’t know. I went into college as a Physics major. Would I go to professional school or grad school? I’d like to but I can’t necessarily afford it. Then considering how many times I’ve missed class in the past week and all the hours of studying I skipped out on I probably won’t make it in. 

Riki questioned why a physics major. 

“I could do research with it I suppose, I just always found the subject interesting.” 

It was the fundamentals that pulled me in. The state of entropy of the entire universe will always increase over time. If you ignore that it’s about energy, It's fascinating on its own.  

I say I’m fine just living a simple life if it means I’m stable, a nice apartment  with a good view, pocket money, and a 401K. I'm not worried about a specific career.

“What happened to your dreams?”

His question caught me off guard for a second.

“I don’t think I really had any.”

“That's just not possible”, he pushed.

“If I could be at peace that's all I could dream for.”

“When you’re this young, even if it may never come true, you should still dream.”

“You’re a really hopeful person.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“I have hope. It might be ridiculous, but it gets me through, because there has to be a limit to everything, and there must be some good that comes with every bad thing. But really, I don't know anything, and that's why its hope.”

His stare shifted into something new, an expression he hadn’t shown yet, one of intrigue.

“Sit with me on the beach.”

I followed Riki’s words that ignored my previous ones.

Down the incline of the hill our shoes pressed into dry sand and we sat.

The waves pulled by the moon crashed fervently, alive and wild.

By my side Riki leaned over, his chin on my shoulder and he said so softly “Don’t beautiful things make you want to dream.”

I faced him, only centimeters separating us, “You want me to dream?”

“Just think of something, something you really want.”

I put my finger to my chin and dramaticized my thinking. Riki bumped by shoulder with his own.

“Be serious.”

“Maybe, go to Bonachita?”

“Why Bonachita?”

“I just wanna go.”

Riki laid back fully in the sand, granules the color of his roots blending in. 

“Bonachita, maybe when you're in your sixties.”

“Howcome?”

“It’s a good place to retire, super suburban, lots of old people. A nice place to die.”

“Well that's morbid.”

“Dream another dream.”

I laid down, imitating Riki.

“Then I dream of dying there.”

I had come down for a while now, exhaustion laid heavy on my eyes and I wanted to be lulled to sleep here, never going home. 

I nudged myself over until my head rested on top of Riki’s shoulder and chest. 

His familiar hand brushed through my hair and I fell asleep. 

[09MPH]

By dawn we were a tangle of sleepy limbs and sand. It seemed Riki fell asleep too. I rolled over onto my stomach and watched Riki whistle through his nose asleep while I lit a cigarette. The click of my lighter rose wake to his eyes and groggily he stared back at me. The sharp smokey smell wafted around us and the smoke I exhaled danced in the air like a luring hypnosis that Riki couldn’t take his eyes away from. After taking some drags from my cigarette Riki reached for it and took it away from me.

“Do you smoke?” I asked 

Riki sat himself up on one arm and shook his head ‘no’ while bringing the cigarette to his mouth. His lips wrapped prettily around it, tight in a closed-lip drag, still puffy from sleep. A deep inhale led to an immediate exhale—and a sudden coughing fit. I found his inexperience cute,  but his eyes wet from the pressure of choking on the smoke and sleep swollen lips made my thoughts run lewd. 

I took the cigarette from his hand giggling and ran my thumb across his bottom lip to his cheek, wiping off stray specks of sand. 

“Someone like you shouldn’t smoke.”

Riki took the cigarette right back and threw it into the sand.

“Neither should you.”

I kept on laughing and fell backwards onto my elbows.

“Too bad I already do then.”

He rolled his eyes at me and got up, dusting himself off. I did the same as him, quick to nag in my elated mood.

“Riki I’m hungry.”

“Are we on a bender? When am I gonna go to class?”

“I didn’t even eat yesterday.”

His eyes easily showed defeat.

Riki slung his arm around my shoulder and walked me forward to his car.

“Ok ok, just stop whining.”

I leaned into his hold and asked to eat back at his place. 

[10MPH]

After Riki took us back to his apartment for breakfast he went to class and I stayed back at his place. 

I had no classes on Tuesdays and so I rolled around mindlessly on his bed with nothing to do except study for midterms, which wasn’t going to happen. Laying on my stomach I reached down for my bag and rummaged through it. In the corner was a pill bottle, five tablets of ten milligrams of valium. I swallowed one dry, scratching my throat as it slid down. After fifteen minutes of feeling nothing I took two more, and then another. In the end I was face to face with one pill. She looked so lonely. Back in her bottle she went and I stared at the ceiling, starting to feel heavy. Swallowing the tablets like that left a knot in my throat, uncomfortable and irritating. The sun as well was pouring in from the window and shining with an intensity that made me feel as though I’d dissolve in its light. It was a sign of Spring but I wanted to hide from the sun. So I turned and hid my face in the sheets of Riki’s bed, reminiscent of the last time I was at his place, my first time at his apartment. The musk of cologne and his scent suffocated my nose but it was better than the sun. Addicting in comparison to the sun. Riki was like my valium, every semblance of his presence soothed me, I was hooked, and maybe it wasn’t a healthy attachment but I didn’t want to be without it. Just a short time of knowing one another and I felt so attracted to him like an elementary crush, but it was different. I sought out the feeling of reliability he provided for me. A fictitious sense of guidance, even though we were in the same place in life, equally confused, at the same starting line, but he seemed to run faster and I was out of breath.

I wanted to catch up.

I aimed to dissolve entirely in the sunlight if it was his.

I’d hold on to any good thing.

I’m a thankful person, and simultaneously selfish.

The forty milligrams I took laid a sheet of drowsiness over me and in a disoriented state I mulled over thoughts of Riki until unconscious. 

It seems it became a habit to wake up to him. I opened my eyes to Riki sitting on the floor by the head of the bed, textbook open and scribbling down the solutions to whatever problems he was solving. 

Watching him every breath felt too light, like my lungs weren't working properly. There was a strange pressure in my chest- not a pain, just a heaviness. I was breathing out too slowly, but I couldn't breathe any faster. I reached out to him, causing a shift in attention

Riki held my hand in return but I only knew from the sight. My hands were numb. Tingling like radio static ran up my limbs

I heard him ask why I was shaking but I didn’t even know I was shaking. I watched my hand tighten around his as I made a conscious effort to. 

I closed my eyes and pretended to fall asleep so he wouldn’t know that my body was falling out of tune, but I was still trembling. It was pointless.

A shadow rested over my dark sight, and when I opened my eyes I saw Riki’s jacket covering me. 

I was lifted up into his arms where he held me like a child.  

Riki’s voice came out broken, as if he was holding back his worry to try and seem calm.

“What did you do?”

I could only press my head against his chest, hoping to gain some kind of sensation. 

Riki's arms wrapped around me. They were firm, but with the gentleness of someone handling something fragile. I knew he was holding me, but I couldn't really feel it. All I felt was a faint pressure on my skin. I wasn't sure if it was really warmth. My body was too heavy to move, yet too light to feel real. I wanted to get closer, I wanted to feel him. Even his voice whispering in my ear sounded far away, like it was through another room. He was holding me. but it felt like I was a ghost. It scared me. 

His hands around my shoulders gripped tighter, the tips of his fingers now in my field of vision as he spoke softly against my ear.

“You were like this last time and I thought it was because of you falling into the pool but that's not it. Just tell me what this is.”

This whole time he had no idea?

I don’t wanna tell him.

I fought against my jaw to get the words out,“It’s ok, I’m ok”. 

My cadence was sluggish and only proved to counter my point.

Riki’s voice was barely audible, “No it's not.”

We sat like that for so long I couldn’t count the time, somewhere in those hours I didn’t even notice when I began to cry. I was consoled by his mere presence, soothed by his words, and nurtured by his relentless compassion. 

My senses didn’t come back for an entire day after. I never called my mom, I never went to class, Riki stayed by my side cradling my body, and never taking me to the hospital due to my pleas. The fatigue lingered and my muscles would twitch but at some point I could feel the heat of his skin flush against mine again.

“Riki,” I whispered.

He responded with a hum. 

“Why are you so good to me?”

His fingertips ran through my hair and brushed against my shoulder.

“Because I care about you.”

I sat up to look him in the eye. I didn’t understand. It didn’t make sense.

“But we’ve only known each other for a week?

His eyes held no trace of disillusionment. He was eagerly willing to attach to someone, just like me. He had an open and forgiving heart. One day it’d be the death of him. I could tell.

His lips parted hesitantly, before succumbing to his truth.

“Still I know you, so I care about you, and you’re not okay.”

My head fell against his chest in defeat. He was only saying everything I wanted to hear but I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. I began to laugh. I began to lose myself. He was blind, I was even worse. What didn’t he get? The reality of me was pathetic.

“Yeah I’m not ok. I pop pills, I don’t care for my mom, I don’t go to my classes even though whining about getting an education, I’m stuck in this bum fuck town, hell I even snorted a fucking line of cocaine, I’m a mess I can barely keep my shit together, I don’t, I cling onto you, you shouldn’t give a shit about me. Why care about someone like me, Riki?”

I don’t know why I was getting aggressive with him for caring about me. I guess if it would end later once he realizes how pathetic I am it’d be better to wake him up now. 

Riki’s hands played with my hair as my head remained against his chest, his words patient,

“Why would you do that to yourself?”

Oh. 

I looked up at him, the tears in my eyes raw, coming down without restrain. His solemn gaze bore back into me. 

What did I do any of it for?

I knew why I started but how I got here I don’t know.

“I don’t know.”

“Underneath your brain fog, you do.”

His hands lifted from my hair and back to cradle my face.

“Call your mom, tell her you’re ok, shower, eat, and explain all this to me.”

I nodded pushing myself up from his lap. On my way to the door I turned back around to Riki who was still on the bed.

“Riki, I don't wanna go home.”

He simply nodded at me and I accepted it.

[11MPH]

I’m alone in the kitchen, the phone rings for what feels like years  before being picked up.

“Mama.”

I’m choked by the hand that isn’t there.

“Mama?”

She picked up but there's no words said, just shallow breaths on the other side of the line.

“Mama, I’m ok. I’m sorry mama.”

I know she doesn’t believe in “sorry.” Faith never told her to.

Perhaps it did. I didn’t read well. Instead let's accuse her heart, and ignore my obvious faults. 

“I swear to God, if you ever come to my door it’ll be locked for you. I swear.”

“Mama, mama, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry means nothing, you wanna act like an adult? Go be one.”

“Mama.”

Her voice was rigid, cutting through my pleas sharp enough to pull blood through the phone.

“I have no daughter, no family, nothing.”

“But mama.”

The line buzzed. She had hung up. Hung up like I wasn’t gone for three days without a word now.

Are mothers usually forgiving? Is a mother the one you run to when you’re not okay? Did she even care? 

Is the love for a child conditional? 

I wanna know. 

Truth is I already know. I know I’m an outlier. I know I mean less than nothing to my blood. And so my blood runs easily with no importance. If I was a better daughter would she hold onto me more - the same way I hold onto her? 

How disgusting am I in her eyes?

Mama, why do you make me hold onto the care of strangers? Why can’t I have you like all the other kids?

If I died that night and Riki never nursed me back to health, would you even feel a thing?

My mind clung to desperation, I was driven to prayer from the emptiness my mother rooted in my heart, born from indifference, disappointment, and impatience. There has to be a saving grace. There has to be a hope. There has to be a dream like Riki says, and one that comes true.  

I put my knees to the floor, hands to my chest, praying to God let these floorboards be my witness, the ceiling fan attest to the sight. Have the angels on my shoulders testify. Know that God sees all and God knows well, I’d be in a different place if every moment in life depended solely on my intentions. Let God know I fear him just as well as I know he is merciful. My soul is separate from my body and still both belong to God solely. Forgive me for my final sins. Forgive me God, for who I am, who I will be, and who I was. Help me God, to be forgiven by you, and see my sincerity that I know you see just as you do my weak mind. 

I kneeled, forehead to the ground, until no pleas went without repetition, and no prayer went unsaid. Riki never walked in. Clinging to my skin to ground myself I realized there was no place for me to go and so I’d go to nowhere. 

How many hours is Bonachita from Florida?

[12MPH]

Riki is an enigma. To every side of him you know there's one you don’t. The reason he's that way is hard to pinpoint. He never talked about himself much. He has money, drives an eccentric car, came from the West Coast, has dreams, but none of these explain his weak heart. 

Fact is, no one clings quick like Riki does, it's just not normal. His family? I know he’s from Japan originally, but do you always have to blame family for the deficits in your character?

Riki isn’t normal but I understand him. He chases the fulfillment he never got a taste of. If he works hard he thinks something has to come from it, if he holds onto someone something has to come from it. 

Riki, your problems are simple on the surface yet they strike a cord in you so complex you never quite understood how to sort through the feeling. As straightforward as a situation may be, what is within our minds never is. You’re not a book though, I can’t read inbetween the lines. I can’t fill in the gaps for unanswered questions. 

Riki never had much to say about my mother’s fits, he never told me to confront if I had an addiction, he didn’t say the things you usually expect from someone.

Riki isn’t from the West Coast.

Riki cares but he isn’t honest.

Riki is lonely, because Riki doesn’t interact with people as expected.

Riki isn’t from Bonachita.

Riki lies to himself more than he’d ever lie to anyone else.

There's a blockage in his mind. There's a time in his life he can’t remember. There's things his brain can’t process. 

That's why he responds with silence.

Or he just makes something up to have something to say..

Riki has a sweet soul. He’s just a little unstable. 

But he holds it together really well, you wouldn’t even be able to tell. He doesn’t need to break down to show he’s reaching his limits. They’ve been passed but somehow his back is straight. He runs the race on unsteady feet. Still he's ahead of the rest. 

Riki.

Riki, you lied.

Bonachita never existed.

[13MPH]

I had nothing to pack that day other than the schoolbag I carried around. I couldn’t go home to get any of my things and so I made due with what I had.

I decided I would just go. Even if I stuck around it wouldn’t make sense to burden Riki with my situation, even if he said he cared, he had no clue I got essentially disowned. 

We never even actually talked about what he wanted to. I just took my things and left without a word, without him knowing. 

It wasn’t rational, Riki was there with me through it all but in my clouded mind it was the only step I knew to take. 

I decided I was going to visit Bonachita.

If I have money for valium I have money for a train ticket. 

At the station I asked for a ticket to the closest city around Bonachita. 

The man looked at me crazy so I thought maybe Bonachita wasn’t a known place but some kind of niche town. 

It was my first time looking it up but nothing came up. Just links to ancestry.com and randoms with the very rare last name. No, directions, no map, no chance of misspelling, it simply didn’t exist. Bonachita wasn’t a city, a town, village, nothing. 

But that would mean Riki lied?

I sat down on the station bench, holding onto cold cash.

Riki who seemed to be so upstanding, so stable, lied about where he came from?

What else did he lie about? Why even lie about something like that?

I stared off at the stone floors with endless questions running through my mind. It seemed so fast everything could just crumble. Even the things I held on to with a firm grip. 

With my last pill of valium, random notebooks, a hairbrush, deodorant, only the clothes I had on, and loose bills in my hand, I booked a night at the nearby motel. 

In the rough motel blankets there's no comfort, only the chilling cold that rises goosebumps to my skin from the blasting air conditioner. I closed my eyes and imagined the cold to be the sensation of Riki’s hands around me the day I was pulled out of the pool by him while flipping my pill bottle in my hands, the one lone pill making a dull sound as it rolled around. His memory was fond to me, I didn’t harbor any negative feelings towards him even when I found out he lied. It was almost comforting to know I wasn’t the only one losing it. Still the feeling of overwhelming isolation overtook any solace I could find. My tears that used to run easily were stifled, burning me from inside. 

The weirdest thing of all.

I missed my mom.

When I was a kid, she’d put dove chocolates at the bottom of my cereal bowls. Whenever I’d unwrap them they’d have some message on the inside and then I’d pour the milk over and have breakfast. On Valentine's day she’d get me a gift. We used to go on walks around the middle school track on weekends and then get ice cream. I played the flute, and she’d come to concerts in elementary, even middle school. I miss that mom.

Towards the end of middle school her and my father fought over money a lot. The house would be tense for days when they wouldn’t talk or even be in the same room as one another. I found out my dad had a woman in North Carolina he took care of and took out large sums of money for. He was slowly planning to leave and never told my mom. My mom didn’t have anything except my dad. And me. She sacrificed a lot to start a family with him, thought there’d be an award for settling down along the line. Her own childhood was pretty bad, she brought a lot of her insecurities into her marriage. She didn’t know security. After dad left the fits she had toward him turned to me. It seemed all the leftover anger she had could only be let out at his daughter. The waste of flesh and blood that reflected no love. I was only a symbol of the tarnished sanctity of marriage. All the promises that went down the drain.

Initially her fits were small but they got worse over time. Verbal turned into physical. I don't know what I could've done but I always felt I should’ve done something.

She never realized I lost something too the day dad left. 

I wonder what Riki lost to act how he does. 

Does he think holding tight onto something means you won’t lose it? 

Look at us, we're both foolish. Making me dream about the things I’ll never have, because he made it look so fulfilling, because he seemed so full of life.  

I never felt as alive as I did when beside him. The speed of his car, the fragility of me fading away in his arms, his patience, his hope, his company, his touch. 

Opening my eyes, I pressed open the bottle lid and swallowed the last valium pill. 

It was too little dosage to do anything for me. 

Now it was all over. 

In the uncomfortable sheets I fell into a heavy sleep while running my hands down my arms in an attempt to mimic the way Riki once held me before.

That night I dreamt I got everything I wanted.

[14MPH]

The view from the motel window is desolate, roads and yellow grass. Only when I crack it open does the blur from the old window pane show the true colors. Every couple minutes cars drive up and down the street showing signs of life. My fingertip traced the thin film of dust on the edge of the windowsill, blowing it forward. I didn’t even know how many days of class I had missed at this point. I didn’t have the energy for school regardless. I settled into the motel as days passed and my money slowly ran low. I bought a new shirt and denim shorts. It was a white fitted tee, fresh in appearance compared to the room. I had thirty dollars left. It wasn’t enough for another night, not after the five I already spent. It’s weird I don’t have Riki’s phone number. Would I call him? Would he be in class right now? But it’d be weird to come to him just because I ran out of money. 

He never judged me and when he found out my truth he stayed firm by my side. So I feel indebted to be there by him. It’s also that I never stopped wanting to be. 

Is this an opportunity or an excuse?

Is his door open for me?

I can’t go back for the reason I left. 

But I want to see him. 

I lit a new cigarette and leaned my bare thighs against the wall. My head rested on the window and each drag was like a petting comfort to my lungs despite the reality. I recalled the beach, and how Riki’s lips wrapped around my cigarette once. I wondered how his lips would feel against me. Would it feel as good as his touch? 

His sleepy lashes, rasped voice, wandering fingers, his cologne. I leaned deeper against the wall, sucking in deeply and hollowing my chest as if the cigarette was me inhaling him. 

I have thirty dollars and a burning heat. 

[15MPH]

On my sixth night I was back in the nearby train station, awake all night and confined to a bench. At one in the morning the station closed and I was left out to wander the sidewalks. Spring winds pushed me along and the cicadas chirped, filling the silence.  It was scary to be out so late alone. I started thinking I could go to campus and spend the night pretending to study in the twenty-four hour section of the library and so I ordered a ride with half of the thirty dollars I had. 

Street lights turned into blurs as the car sped up after I got in. The palm trees swayed, people walked in and out of diners or convenience stores, groups of teenagers walked the streets pushing along bicycles, neon open signs, everything was alive around me. 

It was beautiful, this Florida Spring night.

So beautiful it seemed my feet walked me away from the library. I circled the lab building and went through the parking lots. In hills of grass I passed Old Main and ended up at the campus apartment complexes. 

It was a garden style complex with exterior entrances. I could walk straight up to his door. I was at his door, with a hesitant hand and a pounding heart. It was two in the morning at this point. With a spur of impulsivity I knocked, twice. 

[16MPH]

Truly, before now I never acknowledged how much taller Riki was. His pale face looked down at me, taut and hiding all expression once opening the door. 

No words were exchanged between us.

His arms wrapped around me in a tight hug like it was the position we had always belonged in. I held onto him, his stature enveloping me entirely in the embrace. The faint sounds of his breath tickled my ear, all my senses opened up to him. We stumbled backwards into his apartment, my mind only able to perceive him. I didn’t even realize when he closed the door where we fell to the floor while his hand cradled the back of my head. Pulling back to look at one another I felt the need to consume him entirely. There was no chance I’d separate myself from my greatest desire in this moment where I held him so close. I’m under his trance.

I lifted my lips to his, causing warmth to shoot through my body. Riki kissed me back, only pulling me closer with desperation. His hands were a mess in my hair while my own gripped at his shirt and skin.I was surprised he kissed me back. We were never shy to touch one another but it was a line we didn’t cross until now. I pulled away to admire him in the thick silence only broken by our shallow breaths. His gaze on me was as if I was the most beautifully fragile thing he ever held. Riki softly brought his kiss back to my lips. We remained there on the floor for a moment, as if, in his mind, I would slip through his fingers and disappear into nothingness. Once I tugged on the waistband of his pants he lifted me up and, without ever parting his lips from mine for more than a second, pushed me towards the bedroom.

We fell backwards onto the bed, sheets strewn, his puffy, andalusite eyes meeting mine and reading through me. They were beautiful, like gems reflecting their own light onto me in the darkness of the night.  

Riki’s hands brushed under the hem of my shirt, taking it off and letting it lay on the pillow above my head before kissing down my collarbone while unbuttoning my shorts to pull down the zipper. My own eager hands fumbled to remove his clothes, leaving only undergarments and skin against skin in an intoxicating heat. It was all in an overwhelming need we both felt to be closer.

He really looked like a man, the veins showing in his neck and arms, the hollow definition of his abs. I trailed my fingers up his abdomen until my hand fell flat under the pressure of his body coming down against mine, his nose nuzzled in my neck where he spoke the first words of the night.

“Why’d you leave?”

I pulled his face back by his hair that was now dyed back to a natural shade of black, something he must’ve done in the days I was gone. He was stubborn but eventually he faced me again.

I could only murmur apologies, no reasons.

His tears fell onto my own cheeks. The shimmer of his somber eyes laid soft kisses on my soul, my body nurtured by his touch. Every part of me was filled with the intense pleasure of being reunited. The feeling sent shivers down my spine despite the overwhelming heat within and burning through my skin. 

The soft whine from his throat led me to cling tighter to his skin. 

He bit mine, kissed and bit, nibbled and sucked. I was raw and numb with bliss. 

His hand ran down my throat, past my sensitive chest, and to the bottom of my stomach where his fingertips toyed with the line of my underwear, dipping into the slick. 

Working me up before going down on me, he placed his lips around my swollen clit and let out a deep moan. I was breathless at the new sensation.

He explored my body with a gentleness, oscillating between devotion and need that drove me to the edge. For a time my body lay there experiencing all the possibilities of his hands, lips, and tongue. There seemed to be not a single corner of my skin missed by the fervent affection.

I tugged on his hair until I called out his name and he dragged his body up, his arousal bumping against me.

My meek voice, torn with desire, begged for him.

I belong here in his arms 

I exist between his legs

My heartbeat is fast but my mind is calm. Give me the sweet release.

I spread my arms open to completely be consumed by him inside me.

Adore me.

Cherish me.

Fill me.

In the late morning we woke up, his sleepy head resting on my chest. The sunlight slipped through the gaps in the curtain and highlighted the moles under his eyes to the one on his chin. I shook him awake and asked if he had class. He groggily responded no, but I knew he did. Shoving him to wake Riki finally got up and pulled on a random pair of pants to email his professors. I was still naked and pulled the covers over me, watching as he moved around the room. He threw a towel at me and told me to take a shower. 

After we both had showered, Riki made a simple breakfast of fried eggs and toast. At the table I sat with my knees up against my chest, clad in only a borrowed oversized tee and shorts. I nibbled at the toast while Riki stood behind me and combed through my damp hair. Bending my neck back I interrupted his movements and looked up at him.

“You know why I left.”

He only moved his eyebrows to answer. Incapable of finishing my sentence while maintaining eye contact I looked down at the runny yolk of my egg.

“I was gonna go to Bonachita.”

Riki stopped brushing my hair.

“And”, he questioned.

“It doesn’t exist.”

He didn’t move an inch.

“Why’d you lie?”

“To give you an answer.”

“What do you mean?”

“There's some things, some months, that when I think back to, there's a blockage in my mind.”

His voice fell silent before he went back to combing through my hair and spoke up again.

“When I think about life before college my memories lead nowhere. I remember some of my childhood in Japan, I remember moving around alot after. I don’t remember any city. When I think about it a little too long I get uneasy, my head hurts, and I just don’t visit the memories again. 

I couldn’t just say all that back then.”

I hummed to myself before answering.

“So you don’t even remember a thing.”

“Barely.”

“Have you ever gone to a doctor?” 

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t wanna,” he mumbled. 

I didn’t push him any farther with questions and asked him to eat with me. Riki obliged and broke into the yolk of his own egg with the no longer warm slice of toast. 

“Do you still take pills?” 

Shocked at the sudden questions, my eyes widened.

Coughing slightly I spoke,

“Not really, I ran out.” 

Riki’s jaw flexed.

“You wouldn’t take them again though, right?”

I clicked my tongue in thought. There wasn’t a time since I started where I was sober for long. I had no idea what the withdrawal would be like, it’d be unwise to go cold turkey just as it’d be to continue. 

I sat up on my knees and leaned in.

“I can’t go cold turkey, I’m gonna start getting withdrawal symptoms soon.”

Riki sighed deeply, “Why’d you ever start.”

“It doesn’t matter, I'll just wean off.”

“Ok ok, have you been home?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, it wasn’t that I found the question funny but I found the reality to come out like a sick joke.

“I got kicked out.”

“Last night?”

“No, like basically a week ago now.”

He ran his hands over his face, the truth of everything at once must’ve been too much to come up with a proper response. 

He picked up the plates of our breakfast and took them to the kitchen sink, silently washing the dishes. I pushed my chair in to come up behind him and leaned my head on his shoulder. 

“You know-” 

Riki’s voice came out faint.

“You said you dreamt of dying in Bonachita.” The sponge made slow circles over the pan. I watched the water spiral down the drain.

“Mhm.”

“Did you want to die?”

I hate these kinds of questions.

“I wasn't thinking about death, I just had nowhere to go.”

“I was here.”

I kept my mouth shut.

Riki turned to face me, a slight aching in his eye.

“You’ll stay here for now with me though right?”

I kissed the tip of his nose and the mole on his chin lightly, promising that I’d stay, and not because I had nowhere else to go, but because this is where I longed to be. It would only be as long as he was here. 

[17MPH]

May is approaching, the days only get hotter, longer, and in two weeks it’ll be time for finals. Kids whine and fuss in the halls of the science and technology building about their professors, the increasingly hard exams, or lack of sleep they’ve gotten. I spend weekends turning in coursework I already know won’t save me. I’ve long since let this semester go. Riki doesn’t like me going to parties, so I can’t get valium that way. I never cared for them much anyway. More time to study.. Instead I take smaller doses of valium each week that I buy off my friend. What I still do is smoke, but I do it outside the apartment. 

One night, I came back into the apartment after a smoke. Riki crawled onto the bed and asked if on the first day of summer we could go to the beach. 

I told him we can go wherever he’d like, but what made him want to go?

He claimed to have always liked the beach, he’s never been without it for long.

After two weeks I sat down for my matrices and modern physics exams, packed a bag, and drove up to Canaveral National Seashore about an hour and a half away with Riki. It's a beach with miles of untouched coastline, just white sands and barely a soul. 

Our shoes left imprints on the long walk before Riki decided to stop by the shore. I held my sandals in my hands and let the water bump against my bare ankles. Riki stood rather than sitting. Looking at the expanse of water it seemed endless. If you get a boat and keep going eastward in the direction the ocean takes you, you’ll cross the Atlantic and possibly end up in the Moroccan Sahara. A stark contrast from where we sit now. The world is so pretty when you leave the confines of a town. 

I looked up at Riki above me, but the sun shone down so hard his face became a blur of striking white. 

I asked him to get in the water with me.

Both of us weren’t wearing appropriate clothes, still I ran into the water without waiting for his response, splashing around like a child and soaking the fabric of my short dress. It now stuck to me like a glove and revealed the outline of everything beneath. Riki laughed at me until I pulled him in. His own denim jeans, too hot for a summer like this, and cotton tee became heavy with saltwater. 

We played in water for hours, jumping waves and pushing one another down. Only when the sun began to set did we swim back towards the shore. 

With wet hair, drenched clothing, and arms intertwined we walked back to his car. 

Our room was small—four walls, a bed, a closet, bathroom and a microwave. It was the best we could find at the last minute while being a close enough drive to the beach. That night on our way back I told Riki I wanted to get drunk, I’d never had alcohol before. I still had the fake ID from when I’d party with my campus friends. We’d go to Wawa before heading back to one of their dorms, but I never drank it. It was off putting since the bottles my mother would throw were often the beer she drank. 

Tonight I’d pretend it never was.

We poured shots of liquor for one another throughout the night in dixie cups. At first a slight anxiety gnawed at me as I took sips. It felt like a rebellion against the firm boundary I had once set. If I wanted to live without carrying the baggage of all that had happened perhaps this was a step I could take. Each shot diluted my unease into a weightless glee. Every touch felt heightened, like a delirium of mind and body. I’m the only one new to this but Riki is just as gone leaving no space to be awkward. Laughing about nothing I straddled Riki on top of the bed, the cheap frame creaking with each movement. Still in our beach clothes, damp like our skin and hair, I lit a cigarette, the flame illuminating the dimness for the briefest second. Beneath me, Riki hooked his fingers under the straps of my dress, tugging them down with slow, deliberate movement. I leaned down, resting my chest on his collarbones, to pour the full cup in my right hand into his open mouth, while taking a drag of my cigarette with my left. His throat moved with each weak attempt to swallow. Most of the liquor dribbled down his chin and neck like a honeyed waterfall. I licked the stickiness from the contour of his adams apple to his full lips. 

He kissed forward, the sweetly intoxicating flavor of him blending onto my tongue. 

Throughout the night my phone rang, yet the sound became white noise while we continued drinking and kissing.

I feel the truth of my youth in his arms. If only my eyes could capture this moment in a polaroid and frame it as the scene that defines my young adult years and ignore everything else. All my poor decisions pour into one mass of pleasure and pain. The pleasure found in Riki can tune everything else out. I like the pink blush of his drunken cheeks. I like the way he traces my skin. Killing me with beauty, slowly, softly, sweetly. God, he is beautiful, sharp and angelic all at once. He slurs his words, saying I look pretty from this view. So I put a show on of slipping my underwear down my thighs before sitting back down onto the cold metal of his belt. Each divot in the detailing rubbed against my bottom uncomfortably. At my slight noise from pain Riki slid his hands beneath me to unbuckle his belt. The swift sounds of unclasping metal and falling leather echoed crisply. I tugged at the waistband of his heavy denim jeans, asking him if he felt hot. His hips lifted beneath me slightly, rubbing against my bare skin. 

“Won’t you take it off for me?” His tone was boyish and seductive at once. 

I obliged, pulling the zipper, making Riki smile devilishly, the messy bangs on his forehead shadowing his blackened eyes. His bulge was prominent against the seams of his boxers. The cigarette I held between my teeth had to be placed elsewhere so I flipped it around to fit lazily between Riki’s plush lips, the perfect adornment. I could only smile at the sight of him a mess beneath me before pulling down his boxers to reveal the reddened tip of his frustrated cock. Holding the base in my hand I licked a stripe upwards with a lack of experience nor the coordination I’d have sober. The taste was unfamiliar, almost nothing, but slightly salty. Once I took him in it was suffocating. Breathing through my nose, the deeper he hit my throat the more difficult it became. The smell of my own saliva mixed with the musk. I began to gag but Riki only pushed my head down further as he moaned mellifluously. The sound itself left an ache in my core, I couldn’t help but be turned on further. When his breaths stuttered I pulled off, leaving him leaking and close to coming. His whines filled my ears like music. Taking the cigarette back from him, almost at its end I inhaled and positioned myself to sit back on him, flush against the heat of his groin slick with my saliva and his own precum. I could only tease him a moment longer before my own patience ran thin.

With everything off but my dress, I lifted to let him in. Once Riki bottomed out, pleasure shot through me like waves in the drunk haze. I shoved his shirt as high as possible to flick the ash of my dwindling cigarette onto his nipples, causing him to let out his own moans louder than before, mixing with mine. 

The smell of sex filled the air of the tiny space, Riki’s eyes rolled back as he climaxed. Pulling out after coming down his slender fingers rubbed against my entrance before slipping in and working in and out against my inner walls, repeatedly hitting the most pleasurable spot as he easily became accustomed to my body. His movements became messier as he ran out of energy, yet I found myself chasing his fingers. I started to feel sick with desire. I was left panting, the pathetic butt of the cigarette extinguishing on Riki’s skin as I fell over onto him. In that same position I fell asleep, cushioned by his firm body. While my mind faded into slumber I could vaguely make out Riki’s mumbling. 

“Is this enough for you to stay?”

Little does he know we’re bound by an unbreakable string of fate.

[18MPH]

The hangover is like a freight train running back and forth on tracks made of my neurons. God, it hurts. With an aching body I reached over to the floor to pick up my phone. I had ten missed calls, two messages, all from my dad. Immediately my heart sank, I hadn't talked to my dad in over two months. He says hi, I say hello, he makes me say hi to his wife, he hangs up, I cry. That's how it usually goes. 

His first message was “Why don’t you pick up?”

the second read, “Your mom texted me.”

I knew he was going to say something I didn’t want to hear. 

Right when I was going to turn off my phone the screen lit up with a call from him.

I stared at the vibrating screen causing Riki to turn in his sleep and stare at me quietly with an expression devoid of readable emotion.

My head throbbed, I just wanted to curl up in my sheets and ignore everything. Still, I accepted the call to be greeted by a familiarly distant voice.

“Why didn’t you pick up before?”

What excuse would ever satisfy a man like this.

“I was asleep, it’s summer break.”

“Well, your mom talked to me, she said you haven’t come home.”

“Well she kicked me out.”

“She told me about how you’ve been acting out, but just because she says things when she's angry doesn’t mean its true.”

“....” “She wants you to come live with me.”

“In Carolina?”

“Where have you been staying anyway?”

I lied straight through my teeth.

“Hotels, motels.”

“With what money?”

“I worked in the summers, you know?”

“Whatever, I’m busy so I’ll pick you up next week.”

He hung up like that, not asking me any more questions. Whether I was ok didn’t seem to matter, the nuisance just needed to be handled.

I fell back onto the bed, the call only worsening my headache. 

“You’re gonna leave?” Riki murmured.

I could only shrug. If my dads wife didn’t want me at the house, no way in hell he’d take me in. I was an adult he wasn’t obliged to. But I guess a daughter on the streets looks bad.

It wasn’t like I could live with Riki forever anyway. Everything comes to an end eventually.

“Let's stay another night.” His eyes held an emotion I hadn’t yet seen him express before.

I felt his fingers snake around my wrist in a firm embrace.

“Let’s stay another night.”

Who am I to say no to a face like that, especially when I never wanted to leave in the first place.

Riki started to shake my wrist back and forth like a child, his voice bordering whiny.

“I’ll take you for a drive again, I promise.”

Does he not see he can pull the strings on my back as he likes. Isn’t that a pathetic reality. I don’t care. His will is mine.

“Ok, let's stay another night.”

His grip finally relaxed, his face still half pressed against the pillow. He was speaking with the mind of someone only halfway awake. Still as we sat there his eyes remained trained on me. 

“Riki, what are you thinking?”

“About what you’re thinking.”

Internally I sighed, 

“I think we should take a bath.”

In response Riki stood up and trudged to the bathroom, leaving the door open, letting me watch him fill the bathtub.

While the water loudly pattered against the enamel Riki lifted me up out of bed, letting the soiled dress fully slip down my body. 

The warmth even in the summer was soothing to my hungover body. I sat on my legs facing Riki who was still outside the tub, lathering shampoo between his hands to wash my hair with. The massage on my scalp worked away the tension slowly. Watching his focused expression I was even more at ease.

“Tell me something.”

His eyes shifted onto mine.

“Like what?”

“Everything I don’t know.”

“I got a new piercing.” I leaned in, bumping against the edge of the bath to look at his ears.

“Which? I can’t tell which is new.”

“I got a double helix, it used to only be one.”

He pushed his hair back with the knuckles of his hand to show the reddened cartilage of his right ear. 

“When’d you get it, it must be a pain to heal”

“About like three to four weeks ago.”

That was when I was at the motel.

“You changed a lot in a short time.”

Riki tilted his chin up, shaking the suds in my hair

“What do you mean?”

“Well you used to be blond.”

“Did you like the blond?”

“I liked it all. But why’d you go back to black?”

“I wanted to do something to my appearance.”

I faintly touched the stray strands of his hair with my wet hands.

“In a month you’ll be a whole nother person.”

Riki let out a childish laugh, his genuine smile breaking through. Yet a part of me wasn’t joking.

“What if I can’t recognize you/”

“I’ll always be the same though.”

I looked down at the curve of his shoulders while he spoke.

“I’ll walk the same, speak the same, fidget the same, at the core all the same.”

His hands left my scalp and ran over the scar tissue of the old cut I got on my collarbone so long ago. 

I fell against his shoulder, damping him with shampoo and water.

My blond angel is a black haired boy.

[19MPH]

The sun is strong in the evening but rain is forecasted. 

In the daytime there are more people coming to the beach than in the past day. A lot of fishers, a good amount of families. The heat in the sand burns the soles of my feet without shoes, so Riki offers to take a drive instead. The loud and familiar engine of Riki’s mustang was like a healing purr as it came to life. As we coast through the first few streets, marshes blur into sleepy houses, and eventually, we’re on real roads. I ask Riki how fast his car can go. He says 157 miles per hour. I ask him where he can go at that speed.

“Basically nowhere.”

When we end up on a rural road I ask him to try it, go a little faster.

As soon as he presses his foot on the accelerator the car jumps from forty to eighty. I feel the speed push me against the car seat, and he only goes faster, shifting gears and teetering around 100 to 120. The exhaust begins to get louder, wind thrashes making my vision turn into a blur of melting landscapes and stray hair. 

Riki’s hands stay firm on the wheel. My instinct is to scream, not from fear — from joy. It’s like a roller coaster with no track. At 140, we’re flirting with death.

I found myself thinking this would be a beautiful way to die. 

Every twitch of the wheel is a whisper between life and disaster. Down the slightest hills, the car surges faster. But Riki holds it steady. When he finally brakes, it’s smooth — a gradual pull, a careful downshift.. By the time we stop, my heart could fly straight out of my chest. The adrenaline is unbearable, delicious,  and then it all spills over. All the adrenaline went to my head and laughter burst through both our lungs at the crudely selfish stunt we pulled. 

Riki circles back to the seashore and we walk down onto the coastline, clouded by the soon coming rains. 

Times like this we don’t exchange many words. We simply bathe in the moment. Soft winds, grey skies, and ocean scape. His hair is much more tousled than any other day, I stare at it as I watch the back of his head with each step. 

Rain begins to slowly pour onto our shoulders, a pitter patter every other minute. At the same moment my phone buzzes from my pocket, the vibration distant. Riki looks back at me but I ignore whatever the call is and continue to look ahead at him. Soon he stops in his tracks and drops to sit on the sand. I look down at him in confusion. He tells me he has no pictures of me. I say I don’t like pictures. He says he wants something to remember me by. I say I’m right here. 

Looking like teenage dreams in the grains of white sand his eyes reflected all of my own fears. And all my compassion.

“Are you not leaving?”

Why doesn’t he look at me as if I’m disgusting? It'll make this easier.

I still stand looking down at him.

“So what if I go to Carolina?”

“You won’t go to college here anymore will you.”

“I was going to take a gap year regardless.”

“But when would I see you again?”

I remained quiet.

“So you don’t care if we don’t see eachother again?”

“Of course I do.” I was turning pathetic, my voice cracked.

Riki’s yearning eyes looked up at me, a million desires, a thousand questions, and not a single resolve given.

“You could just stay with me.”

“You know that's not possible.”

“Why not?”

I raked my hands through my hair in frustration.

“I can’t leech off of you like that.”

His own voice became strained,

“But you're not. I want you to stay with me. How is that leeching?”

A scoff came from his throat.

“What's the point of living with someone who doesn’t care about you when you could live with someone who does?”

“Why do you care about me anyway?”

Distress shot over his expression for a mere second. I continued to say all the wrong words.

“Because you didn’t need to know everything about me to understand me. Because I’m not all that I went through, I’m my character and you came back even after you found out the truth because of that. Didn’t you?”

I fell to my knees, only inches away from Riki and wrapped my arms tight around the broadness of his shoulders, my face directed towards all that was behind him.

“I’m gonna pack my bag, get in his car, go to North Carolina, and I’ll miss you.”

“No.” His voice was annealed glass. 

My teardrops watered the slope of his back, blending in with the light rainfall. 

His hands clung onto me as if he’d have no will to live otherwise. 

“Just tell me what you want, you can have it. If you want me you can have me. If you have a dream I’ll fulfill it. What do you really want?”His tone shifted between tenderness and possessiveness. 

I thought the wise thing to do was rely on a parent instead of someone my age, equally as unstable. I thought I’d go with my dad and live fine with the memories of him. What if he didn’t always want me next to him? Then where would I go if I had turned down my dad’s offer. How do I know his eyes will always look at me with such a devoted expression? How do I know he’s entirely mine?

“I want you to take me to Bonachita.”

[157MPH]

He watches me get ready in the mirror. 

My hair is neat, my dress is short, and my lashes curled. Even with less makeup than I used to wear, I feel pretty. 

Every curtain is open, all windows let in the cool morning breeze. Dew is clinging on to each blade of grass and slipping from low hanging leaves due to last night's rain. Everything catches light but there's a film of hazy fog. Nature is lush and alive.

When I get up, so does Riki. There's coffee on the table, this is his apartment. He lives here even in the summer because it doesn’t belong to the university. Yet these apartments are majority owned by students and only a couple minutes from campus so it feels like the semester never ended. We came back last night. On the drive back we could catch glimpses of the launchpads. On one side was the Atlantic and the other the Indian River. The salty smell of ocean water permeated through the air, a nostalgic scent. We went south down the A1A. Light filtered through the spanish mosses and oaks of Titusville, Melbourne, and Sebastian. Each town was distinct despite being so close. When we reached home we immediately fell asleep. 

Now I’m sipping on bitter coffee. I can’t tell if I like the taste or not but I continue to drink. Riki tells me to listen to the birds chirping outside. It’s the perfect song to play in the background of this morning. I say it reminds me of when I was kid, the last days of school having breakfast at the round wooden table in front of the window that let in the sounds of nature, open for the first time in months because of the incoming summer. He says when he was young he dreamt of being a race car driver. He watched Trans-Am, Formula 1, NASCAR, all of it. And he dreamt, that’s not a lie. 

I asked him if he ever tried. He said it takes a lot of training that he never got close to doing. So he took that dream and polished it into mechanical engineering. I admire him. I tell him so.

Riki’s not good at taking compliments, he smiles like a fool, like an angel. His boxy smile showing his teeth. 

In another life maybe he drives around a track, fast and fulfilled. If only he could have everything he wanted and I could be the one who gives it to him. I keep that to myself. Instead I attempt to light a cigarette but I can’t find my lighter. Riki gets one from the kitchen before standing in front of me, flicking the flame to life and setting both my lungs and heart afire. I’d rather kiss him than smoke. I wrap an arm around the nape of his neck and bring him down to me. My cigarette is looming over the floor in my other hand, accumulating ash. I kiss against his pouty lips into bliss. The taste of coffee lingers on both of our tongues. The bitterness imitates the sweet taste of love. I want to believe that this is a form of love crafted especially for people like us. Even if I can’t have something pure and sweet, I’m allowed at least the bitterness that faintly mimics its taste. I ask Riki what he wants most at this moment. He leaves the faintest kiss on my lips before saying 

“Nothing.”

I see all my suppressed dreams from the past years reflect in his eyes, and I let them pass on. 

The coffee pot half full remains and we get into his car, the leather of the seats is hot from drowning in sunlight. I feel it against my skin, cauterizing already healed wounds. The windows are down, we drive slowly throughout town as the wind cools us down. At one point we nearly pass my mom’s house but narrowly get on a different avenue. There's kids on the street playing ball, running around, and falling. There was a time when we were that age. Riki hums while taking a turn and for a second I wonder what he was like as a child. His smile must’ve been the same back then. There are some things that just don’t change even when everything else does. His eyes are on the road and my eyes are on his face. The streets are now lined with trees rather than houses. There’s a bridge arching above the road a couple miles away. It’s made of limestone,  the kind of bridge people cross over, but today its empty. 

Riki is no longer looking at the road, his gaze is solely on me. He asks if I still want to go to Bonachita. 

The fact is I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to go to my dad’s house. But I know I can’t keep running. In all honesty, I absolutely adore Riki. But things catch up. The feet are fast but reality is quicker. To never move forward is to die and to go on is to endure the greatest pain yet. I feel absolutely terrible. 

So I bundle all my joys and give it an address. 

Bonachita. 

Riki has glossy eyes at my nod of confirmation. I see in my peripheral his foot go against the accelerator harshly, and he shifts gears.

Forty, fifty, ninety, a hundred, 

one-fifty-seven. 

I can’t process a thing as the bridge becomes imminently closer. 

Yet I know, in a world that forsakes forgiveness, where the mistakes you make are the most defining moments, he cherished me as if I wasn’t made less than by all I’ve done. 

I really like to be human in the eyes of another.

Maybe in another life, this is his race car, and Riki just got first place. 

Everything jerked sideways. Only the stone of the bridge filled my sight sporadically alongside the profile of Riki’s face. A loud crunch of metal echoed with the shattering of glass. I feel the seatbelt holding me back as my chest tightens. We both lurched forward, adrenaline resounding throughout my entire body. This sound is the cadence of death. My body is weightless, I flow with the pressure. There's no way to prepare for how reality warps.

This final blow lands us in the infinite peace of Bonachita. My pretty, curated, illusion. 

[adoreispunk]

Out Of Reach (joel miller au)

an: my longest chapter yet:)) it’s about to get real good yallll;)) i’m moving so hopefully i’ll be able to update fast:P

wc: 3.5k

tags: joelmillerau, age gap, dbf!joel, joelmillerfanfic, pedropascal, mature

—————

six

The next two weeks are just restless nights and distractions during class. It's like the feeling when you know you have a concert in a couple weeks and there's just one thing on your mind.

I wake up in my old bedroom, sunlight already creeping through the blinds. Memories of a younger me all around me.

It's the first day of my internship.

With Joel.

Before I even move, I'm already overthinking everything. How I'll act, what he'll say, if I'll be able to play it cool. There's a strange pressure sitting on my chest, like today matters more than it probably should. For way different reasons than I was expecting for my first day on internship.

I throw the blanket off and finally sit up. I woke up way earlier than I needed to to get ready.

My last night on campus, Marissa and I stayed up past 3 am, holding up every semi-professional piece of clothing we owned. We scrolled, screenshot "hot girl business casual," and critiqued each other like we were dressing for the Met Gala instead of a contracting company.

"Okay," Marissa said, squinting at me "That blouse is cute, but not hot office slut cute. You're going for confident, composed,might-steal-your-man-without-trying. Think... office siren."

"Office siren." I repeated, deadpan.

She nodded like she was reading from scripture. "A little undone. Buttoned up—but not all the way. Hair not too neat. And no boring flats. You are not an intern who fades into the break room wallpaper."

So here I am, standing in front of my mirror, channeling my inner siren or whatever.

After I shower, I settled on high-waisted black trousers, fitted enough to feel sexy without getting me fired. A cream-colored satin blouse that falls off one shoulder just slightly if I move the right way. I leave the top two buttons open—Marissa's voice echoing in my head "Let the collarbone breathe, bitch."

I pin back one side of my hair and put on just enough makeup. Natural and light with darker corners and a blush nude gloss. It takes me a while to pick out shoes but I decide on some shorter kitten heels. Modest but sexy.

When I glance at my reflection, I feel a hum under my skin. Equal parts nerves and anticipation. Like I'm stepping into something I've thought about for way too long, finally crossing that line I've only ever danced around in my head.

The day before I got a text from Joel giving me the address and time to be there. I should've been expecting his text but it still caught me off guard. I finally save him as a contact on my phone, making it more official. I thought about names or something creative to put him under but instead of driving myself crazy again, I just put "Joel".

The drive to the company is short—just outside town, past a string of hardware stores and lunch spots I've never paid much attention to. My dad decided to carpool with a coworker for the next two weeks while I work with Joel. I thought that was nice so I could have time alone to compose myself before and after my shift. God knows i'll need to.

I pull into the lot a few minutes early, my palms a little sweaty on the steering wheel. I lower my music just a bit, something more upbeat to attempt to hype myself up.

I sit there for a second, waiting for a moment of courage to get out of the car. I'm such a pussy

At that moment I get a text, as if someone somewhere knew I needed it. Of course that person was Marissa.

marrisa<3: Is that collarbone out?

I laugh at the message and send her a fake flirty picture biting my finger.

me: "yes ma'am"

it doesn't take her long to respond.

marissa<3: that's what i like to see. you better check in!

me: i'm working remember?

marissa<3: Ohhh now you're just "working"? That's what we're calling it?

me: talk later, I gotta go inside TO WORK.

Our interaction finally gives me the courage to step out of my dads car. I grab my bag and step out into the cool morning air. My heels click softly as I walk toward the building, and with each step I take, I feel my heartrate pickup. I take deep breaths and try to ground myself. I feel like a crazy person.

The office is quiet when I step inside—no front desk, no receptionist, just the faint buzz of fluorescent lights and the distant clatter of tools from the back warehouse. The space smells like concrete dust and fresh lumber, sharp and industrial. Masculine.

A couple of guys in dusty work boots pass through the hallway ahead of me, deep in conversation, until one of them glances my way. Then the other does too.

Their eyes skim over me—heels, fitted slacks, blouse tucked in. Nothing inappropriate. Still, I feel suddenly too polished.

One of them nods, polite but curious. The other just smirks a little to himself as they pass, like I'm the new girl in school and everyone already knows.

My stomach knots. I clutch my bag a little tighter and glance around, trying to get my bearings. No signs, no labels on the doors. Just heavy boots thudding and the low murmur of men's voices echoing off the walls.

I fish out my phone and scroll to Joel's number, thumb hovering over the call button.

"Lost already?"

I turn so fast I almost drop my phone.

Joel's coming around the corner, wiping his hands on a rag like he just stepped off a site—faded navy tee stretched over his shoulders, jeans streaked with dried mud, and a clipboard tucked under his arm. His hair's a little damp near the back of his neck, like he just ran water through it. He looks too good. I suddenly forget everything Marissa told me to do when I first saw him again.

I swallow. "A little."

He stops in front of me, close enough that I catch the scent of cedar and musk. "You're early," he says, voice low and even.

I shift on my heels, fighting the urge to smooth my blouse even though I spent most of the morning making sure this outfit was just right.

"Yeah, sorry. I wasn't sure how long traffic would take."

He nods, giving me a once-over. Not leering—just taking me in, in that unreadable way he did last time.

"Ready to go?" he asks straightforward.

"Yeah," I say, trying to sound just as steady.

"Alright. This way."

He turns, and I follow, trying not to stare at the way his shoulders move under his shirt or how the fabric of his jeans clings just right.

Except when he glances over his shoulder to check if I'm still there and catches me looking. I look down and he lets out a breath and turns back around.

Fuck.

Joel pushes open a heavy door near the end of the hallway and steps aside so I can walk in first.

"This is me," he says simply.

I step inside and try not to look too surprised.

His office is... chaos.

Stacks of manila folders tower dangerously on one corner of the desk, and a scatter of papers covers nearly every flat surface—some yellowed with notes, others fresh from a printer, still curling at the edges. There's a half-finished coffee sitting on top of a closed binder, and a battered old hard hat tossed carelessly onto the windowsill. A whiteboard in the corner is scribbled with numbers, reminders, and what looks like a rough sketch of a floor plan.

It smells like coffee, paper, and sawdust. Real. Lived-in. Totally him.

I turn to and see an empty desk with a newer chair than his with some office supplies, a key, and a macbook box. I try to ignore it until he makes it known himself. I don't want to jump to conclusions that it's my desk.

"Wow," I murmur towards his desk before I can help myself, then I catch his look. "I just meant, busy."

He lets out a quiet grunt, dropping his clipboard onto the desk and tossing the rag into a bin in the corner. "Yeah, well. My bookkeeper's on vacation, so I've been tryin' to hold it down."

I raise an eyebrow. "You're keeping up with all the numbers too?"

Joel shrugs like it's no big deal, but the tired set of his shoulders says otherwise. "Tryin' to for now. Not exactly my strong suit, but I'll manage. I get the important stuff handled, rest can wait."

I glance at the desk again, then back at him. "You sure you're not just burying the rest under those folders?"

That gets the faintest smirk out of him—barely there, but it flickers across his face like a spark. "You here to learn or roast me, kid?"

"Both," I say, surprising even myself with how easily it comes out. His smirk lingers a second longer, then fades as he moves behind his desk.

"So, uh if you haven't noticed yet, that's your desk," Joel says finally, nodding toward the setup. "Got you a new chair and stocked some basics—paper, pens... and a laptop. I wasn't sure if you had one already, but figured I'd just cover it instead of riskin' it."

My stomach twists a little when It finally settles that he got it for me. "Mr. Miller, you didn't have to do that. I mean, I have one. It's just old and kinda slow with all my editing and files on it. But I manage. "

"You need it . You're gonna need something that can handle the kind of stuff you'll be workin' on anyway." He says in a calming tone.

I brush my fingers over the box, still hesitant. I don't know how to accept gifts. "This is too expensive."

"Yeah, I wouldn't know. I don't know a damn thing about that shit." he says, scratching the back of his neck. "Asked the guy at Best Buy for the best one. Think he upsold the hell outta me."

That makes me smile. "He definitely did. I can give it back to you as soon as I'm done here. "

Joel shrugs. "Long as it works, I don't care. Just do good work with it. You can use it afterwards for your photos, your dad showed me some too, You'll make use of it."

"Thank you, this will definitely be put to good use " I genuinely don't know what to say. I don't know if I should shake his hand or hug him.

He shifts, glancing at the laptop like it might save him from having to respond. "Yeah. Don't mention it."

"Anyways, Let me go over what we're doin today" He says cutting the awkward silence.

"I've got a job site I need to stop by in about an hour. Not far from here. Figured it'd be good for you to see it firsthand what these guys are actually doin' day-to-day. Especially since we've been moving into more commercial work lately."

"Yeah, definitely," I say, straightening up a little. "I'd love to see that."

He nods once. "It's not glamorous. No AC, lots of sawdust, bunch of guys swearin'. But it's the kind of stuff you need to understand. See what they do, what problems come up, how we actually get from blueprint to finished job."

"That makes sense," I say. "I don't mind getting a little dust on me."

That earns me a small glance, but it's more of a check than anything else as if he's assessing whether I'll flinch at a muddy boot or a loud power tool.

"Did you bring other shoes?" Joel asks, glancing down at my feet, one brow lifted.

I follow his gaze and immediately cringe at the sight of my kitten heels. The ones I thought looked perfectly polished this morning.

"Shit," I mutter without thinking, then instantly look up at him, wide-eyed like a little kid cursing in front of their teacher. "Sorry Mr. Miller, I wasn't thinking about job sites when I got dressed."

He shakes his head, not unkindly. "It's fine. I get it. You made the effort to look the part. Just something to keep in mind for the next few days, yeah?"

I nod quickly, heat blooming in my cheeks.

"One more thing," he adds, almost offhand. "You can drop the 'Mr. Miller.' Just Joel is fine."

I look at him nodding again, "Okay, Joel."

His throat bobs like he's swallowing something back, some emotion I can't quite read. It makes my palms sweat, and I quickly look down, picking at the corner of a notepad on the desk just to keep my hands busy.

"I'll come get you in an hour," he says. "Feel free to set up and get comfortable. If you need anything, just shoot me a text."

"Okay. Thanks again.. for everything." I offer a small smile. "Really."

He gives a short nod before stepping out, the door closing behind him.

Once he's gone, I release a breath I didn't know I was holding and slide into the new desk chair. I took a picture of the Macbook still in its packaging to send to Marissa later. Then I pull it out of its box and begin setting it up to my information. Trying to keep my mind on that task. Something actually productive.

——

We leave the office a few minutes later, Joel leading the way toward the parking lot. The sun is blinding out here, cutting through the chilly spring air, and for a second, I'm hit with the mix of nerves and excitement again.

Joel doesn't seem to notice. He's already pulling open the door to his work truck, as he gestures for me to hop in. I get in and he even offers me a hand.

It's because you're an idiot in literal heels. He's just being nice. Don't overthink it. But of course, I do.

Before I can even process my emotions, we're pulling out of the lot and onto the road. The truck rattles under the weight of the drive, the tires crunching over gravel and cracks in the pavement. This truck was a little more dirty and worked in than his personal one.

I try not to notice the way his hands grip the wheel, how solid and steady they are. Stop looking at his hands, Olivia. Just look out the window or something.

The drive is short but bumpy, and by the time we pull up to the site, I'm already taking in the sight of a building half-constructed in front of us. It's nothing fancy—just a commercial building, probably a warehouse or office space but it's massive. Beams frame the skeleton of it, a structure far more complicated than anything I've ever seen up close.

Joel parks near the entrance, throws the truck in park, and steps out without a second thought. I grab my bag as he's already on my side again opening the door. My heels crunching over the gravel as I try to catch up to his faster pace. Trying not to bust my shit in front of Joel Miller right now.

The site is bustling with activity. I watch as men in hard hats shout to each other, hauling materials, and measuring the building. There's a layer of dust in the air, the ground uneven and cracked underfoot. The noise is overwhelming the clang of metal, the hum of power tools, the whirr of saws cutting through wood.

Joel heads toward a small group of workers gathered by a pile of materials. As we approach, they fall silent, their gazes flicking from him to me, then back again. I don't know if it's because I'm the only woman around or if it's because I'm the new face, but I feel the weight of their eyes, even though they don't say anything.

"Hey, fellas." Joel says in his usual low voice. "This is Olivia. She's here for a couple weeks to help us out. Get us more guys and grow our name. Don't get too crazy."

I nod at the group awkwardly. Trying to ignore the butterflies of him actually saying my name.

"Hi, nice to meet y'all." I say, my voice barely rising above the noise.

One of the workers, a tall guy with a scruffy beard, grins and nods back. "We'll try to keep it tame, miss."

Joel gives him a dry and serious look as we walk away and then turns to me. "You good so far?"

"Yeah, this is... a lot." I look around, trying not to let the discomfort show.

"Ignore those idiots, too many wood planks to the head." Joel's voice is even, but I catch the edge of humor. He's trying to make me comfortable again like I didn't even have to say what I meant.

"You're gonna get a feel for it. We're busy as hell right now, but we're still behind on a few things." He says getting us back on track.

He gestures toward a set of blueprints lying on a nearby table, papers fluttering in the wind. "This is where you'll get to know the project specifics. But we're still playin' catch-up with some of the numbers. Carol usually handles all that, but since she's out, I've got a backlog."

I take the blueprints in hand, glancing over the plans and markings. The numbers make sense, but they also make my head spin. There's so much detail, so much at stake. It's far more complex than I realized.

"Where do you come in?" I ask, looking up at him. "How do you manage all of this?"

He shrugs, a little tight, but not dismissive. "I coordinate with the crews, the suppliers, make sure everyone's on the same page. Keep the clients updated. Step in to do some of the dirty work a lot lately. It's a balancing act."

I nod, but it's clear there's more to it than that.

"Not the best setup, but it works," Joel answers, his eyes briefly flicking over the site.

I pause, looking at the scope of the building again. The scale of it is dizzying.

"What about the commercial work?" I ask. "You've got a lot of bigger projects now, right?"

Joel glances over, his jaw tightening just slightly. "Yeah. It's new for us. We've done small stuff for years, but now the bigger clients are comin' through. A lot more responsibility, a lot more logistics to juggle."

He pauses, the sound of metal clanging in the background briefly filling the silence between us.

"I need people. Good, reliable people who want to work for a company like this, not just any job." His voice carries over the noise, his eyes scanning the site as we walk again. "We've got the project, now we need the talent to get it finished. And we're not just looking for contractors. We need skilled workers. Plumbers, electricians, carpenters. We're getting more commercial work, and we need the right people who can handle that."

That hits me differently. This isn't just about getting a few hands for basic labor. This is about finding the best, the right team to push his business to the next level.

I take a note on my phone. "Got it. I can start looking for ads and posts targeting specific skill sets. I'll start a recruitment campaign, but I might need to dig deeper into the local trade schools, maybe even local unions." I think for a second. "I could also put out some feelers on LinkedIn to connect with potential hires."

Joel nods like he's genuinely impressed. "We'll need a strong presence online. People talk. The right reputation will keep this company competitive, so focus on getting the right people, but also making sure we've got the name out there."

He looks over at the men working nearby, then back to me. "You'll see what I mean soon enough. Right now, we're focusing on quality, not just speed, so getting the right team is key."

I look around again, trying to absorb all the details. Joel's not just a boss—he's a guy who takes pride in his work, who wants to grow the business. It's more than just the paycheck for him. He's building something.

The next hour is spent walking around, Joel talking about the different aspects of the job. I watch the workers and make mental notes of what they do, trying to see the big picture of how it all connects. Joel explains the technical side of things, but it's clear he values the physical work being done as much as the people doing it.

I'm finally starting to understand the full scope of what's expected of me.

As we head back to the truck, I feel a sense of purpose that I didn't quite have before. There's more to this job than I thought, but I'm up for the challenge. Hopefully impressing Joel on the way too.