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#a beautiful sandwich of idiots
coldemergency · 16 days
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Harry: This is so weird
Tom: I assure you this is much weirder for me
Voldemort:
Voldemort: How the fuck did this happen?
Voldemort: and how did you get into my house-
Harry: It’s a long story
Tom: You really weren’t joking about the nose thing
Voldemort: I will kill the both of you
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soulprompts · 7 months
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REASONS TO CUP A FACE. ( A PROMPT LIST. )
with the help of some very talented and amazing friends, i present to you an unexpected, very spontaneous meme list based on the beautiful art of cupping someone's face! there's a mix of romantic and platonic here, and even a few that defy the boundaries of normal relationship dynamics! i hope you enjoy! as always; DO NOT ADD TO THIS LIST NOR CLAIM IT AS YOUR OWN!
[KISS]: sender cups the receivers face in their hands before drawing them closer for a kiss.
[CHECK]: after an unexpectedly violent situation, sender frantically rushes to check if the receiver is okay, cupping their face to look closer.
[CLEAN]: sender affectionately wipes a smudge of sauce from the corner of the receiver's mouth, cupping their face in the process.
[LIFT]: sender gently cups the receiver's face and lifts their chin so the receiver is looking up at them.
[COMFORT]: sender cups a distressed receiver's face in their hands and steadies them by resting their foreheads together.
[ATTENTION]: during an important conversation, the sender takes the receiver's face in their hands and firmly directs their focus on them.
[MAKE-UP]: while applying make-up on the receiver's face, the sender cups their face in order to keep them still.
[PRIDE]: after the receiver succeeds in a remarkable achievement, the sender cups their face and tilts their foreheads together to express how proud they are of them.
[WHISPER]: in order to have a private, hushed conversation with the receiver, the sender cups their face and draws them close to make sure they can be heard.
[HAIR]: in the process of pushing the receiver's hair back from their face, the sender lets their hand rest against the receiver's cheek a moment longer.
[GROUND]: during a moment of intense emotional stress, the sender gently takes the receiver's face in their hands to ground them until they're calmer again.
[WONDER]: unable to comprehend how incredible the receiver is, the sender decides to simply cup their face in their hands and marvel at them instead.
[LAST LOOK]: before going into a situation that may result in their death, the sender takes a moment to cup the unaware receiver's face in their hand, just to take a final look of admiration at them before they go.
[SACRIFICE]: the sender cups the receiver's face tenderly to distract them, right before shoving them out of the way (to safety) and facing an attack alone in order to buy the receiver enough time to escape.
[BELIEF]: in a moment where the receiver is lacking in self-confidence, the sender cups their face tenderly and professes their faith in the receiver's abilities.
[DISBELIEF]: after the receiver has done something completely unexpected (and reckless) the stunned sender cups their face in their hands while trying to get them to explain why the hell they did it.
[BETRAYAL]: trying to keep the receiver calm before the big reveal, the sender cups their face gently to keep them steady, and then reveals that they're the villain.
[WOUND]: after the receiver has been wounded, the sender tries to keep them calm and conscious by cupping their face in their hands and talking to them to keep them focused.
[INJURY]: after having been badly wounded themselves, the sender tries to reassure the frantic receiver by cupping their face and comforting them.
[RAMSAY]: after the receiver commits a culinary crime, the sender presses two slices of bread against either side of their face, cupping their face to hold the bread in place, and calls them an idiot sandwich.
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pucksandpower · 2 months
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Of Roomates and Revenge
Lewis Hamilton x fake girlfriend!Reader
Featuring Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, Charles Leclerc, Pierre Gasly, Esteban Ocon, and Nico Rosberg
Summary: in which your search for a free place to stay leads to helping one half of Brocedes live out his petty fantasy for revenge … and falling in love while doing so
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Cat and Apartment Sitter Needed (Monaco)
Compensation: €1500/week plus all the Red Bull you can drink
I’m a world-traveling young professional who is rarely home. My two beautiful and rambunctious bengal cats need someone to stay with them in my Monaco apartment whenever I’m away for work.
The ideal candidate will be an experienced cat person who is prepared to deal with a lot of energy, chaos, and shenanigans from these two little terrors. They knock everything off every surface, wrestle at 3am, and will likely attempt to smother you while you sleep. If you can handle that, we’ll get along just fine.
In addition to caring for the cats, you will need to keep my place relatively tidy (i.e. no crushed Red Bull cans or fast food wrappers everywhere), collect any packages or mail that arrives, and randomly turn a few lights on and off every evening so the neighbors don’t get suspicious.
The position is ideal for a mature student, digital nomad, or someone between living situations who wants an amazing place to stay for free in one of the world’s hotspots.
Drop me a line if you think you can handle the cats from hell and wouldn't mind living in a 230 m² penthouse apartment with a private terrace, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a badass view of the Mediterranean. Preference goes to non-smokers who follow directions well and won’t throw ragers when I’m gone.
Send a brief intro, your experience with cats, and a couple photos attached. Urgently need someone for various stretches starting mid-February.
Do NOT contact me with unsolicited services or offers.
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Live-in Cactus Caretaker Needed (Monaco)
Compensation: €1000/week, free snacks, and you can play my Xbox
I’m a young dude who’s rarely home because of my job that involves a lot of international travel. I have a single cactus plant that I promised my mum I would keep alive until she visits again. The thing is ... I have absolutely no idea how to care for plants. Like, I nearly killed it the first week by forgetting it existed.
What I need is someone responsible who can essentially live in my swanky Monaco apartment whenever I’m gone and keep my tiny cactus friend alive.
Duties would include:
Watering the cactus like ... once a month? Twice a month? I don’t know how often it needs water
Not letting the cactus die in any other way (pretty sure they need sunlight too … I think)
Keeping the place tidy (I’m a bit of a mess)
In return, you’d get:
A sick apartment all to yourself with a stunning view, giant TV, and full kitchen (please for the love of god be careful in there ... I almost burned the place down trying to make a grilled cheese once. Seriously, I'm not exaggerating. I almost went up in flames over a silly sandwich. If you can't even operate a microwave, we may have problems. There’s only room for one idiot like that in Monaco — and it’s me)
Unlimited snacks/drinks from my well-stocked pantry
Free rein over my gaming setup (just don’t break anything)
First dibs on any events/reservations I can’t make
The ideal person is responsible, shows they can follow basic instructions for cactus care, laidback since you’ll be alone a lot, and trustworthy enough not to wreck the place or throw illegal parties. Having a green thumb would be great, but frankly if you can manage not to kill the one plant, that’s good enough for me.
Send a brief bio about yourself and your qualifications as a cactus/housesitter if interested! I’m gone quite frequently starting in February so could use someone ASAP.
No scammy offers or soliciting, please!
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Roommate Needed to Drink Wine and Listen to My Woes (Monaco)
Compensation: Free rent in a nice apartment, plus all the wine you can drink
Are you a good listener? Do you enjoy dry red wines and occasional bouts of tears and venting? If so, I’ve got the perfect living situation for you!
I’m a youngish guy with a high-stress job that involves a lot of traveling. When I’m home in Monaco, I tend to unwind by polishing off a couple bottles of nice Bordeaux or Burgundy while complaining about work, my colleagues, and my rival who is giving me really mixed signals.
What I need is a roommate who doesn’t mind a little drunken blubbering here and there.
You’ll get:
Your own bedroom in my spacious 2BR/2BA apartment in the La Condamine district
Rights to my kitchen, living room with large TV, piano, and music recording equipment
Access to the building’s pool, sauna, fitness center, and lounge areas
As much wine as you can drink (and more)
In exchange, you’ll be expected to:
Listen to my periodic rants and rave sessions without judgement
Preferably nod along or offer supportive-sounding feedback like “Yeah, that’s really tough man” or “Wow, they sound terrible”
Refill wine glasses as needed
Maybe rub my back or pat my head if I’m really going through it
The ideal candidate is a decent human being who can empathize with the high-pressure struggles of a young professional trying to make it in a cut-throat career.
You’ll need a decent amount of free time and lots of patience. Prior experience as a life coach, therapist, or sympathetic drinking buddy is a plus.
If you can handle crying guys after a few too many glasses of Châteauneuf-du-Pape, inquire within! Include a little about yourself and why you would make a good non-judgmental wine friend. Merci!
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Expand Your Search? Similar Opportunities:
Impartial Referee Wanted for Parking Lot Brawls (France)
Compensation: €400 per event
Two athletic young men in their late-20s are looking for a level-headed third party to oversee and officiate their semi-regular parking lot boxing matches. Yes, you read that right — we’re talking straight-up fisticuffs in the back alley behind the Circuit Paul Ricard.
A little background: We’ve been frenemies/rivals since we were kids — constantly competing in friends, employment opportunities, you name it. There’s a healthy amount of hatred between us that simply can't be resolved through words alone. Every few months, we feel the need to just take out our pent-up aggression on each other's faces.
Up until now, it’s been an unregulated shitshow with no real rules or oversight. We’re looking for someone impartial who can:
Set some fair ground rules around where/how we can strike
Ensure no prop weapons get involved (last time he tried to scalp me with a wrench)
Officiate and declare a winner once one of us is knocked out or quits
Ideally have some basic first-aid skills in case of a nasty cut or broken nose
We will pay €400 cash at the start of each bout. You’ll get a free show of two extremely fit dudes wailing on each other until there’s a clear victor.
Loser exits with his tail between his legs, winner gets to gloat for the next couple months until we run it back.
If you can be a neutral third party and aren’t squeamish about a little blood, send us your info with some details about yourself and your experience resolving conflicts (legally or not). First come first served — our next fight is tentatively scheduled for mid-May!
No flakes or perverts, please. Serious connoisseurs of violence only.
P.S. Don’t be scared to give out penalties (one of us is used to that)
Actor or Actress Needed to Annoy Ungrateful Ex-Friend (Monaco)
Compensation: €2700 per week, free luxury accommodations
I’m a successful guy in my late 30s looking to hire someone to pretend to be my significant other for a few months. Before you get the wrong idea, let me explain ...
I had a major falling out with a former best friend who stabbed me in the back years ago. We live in the same apartment building, just one floor apart.
I’m trying to show him how amazing my life still is without him … and maybe make him jealous in the process.
That’s where you come in. I need you to move into my penthouse temporarily and act as my gorgeous new boyfriend/girlfriend.
Your main duties would include:
Loudly introducing yourself to said ex-friend by knocking on his door and being line “Hi, is [insert my name] here?” Then pretend to be embarrassed and apologize when he tells you that you’re at the wrong apartment
Hang out in the hallway near his place and have very loud fake conversations detailing our imaginary passionate nights together (rated R)
Post cringy coupley photos on your social media of us dressed up going out, cuddling on my yacht, etc
Ideally you’re an aspiring actor/actress or just a really convincing liar. Being somewhat loud and dramatic is a plus. You’ll need to be willing to play along if my petty ex-friend tries to confront us.
In return, you’ll be living in a lavish penthouse with all the amenities for free. You’ll have your own private suite and can hang out on the oversized balcony, by the pool, or in the media room when you’re off the clock. Might also be able to introduce you to some high-profile people if you’re trying to network.
Oh, and my bulldog will provide plenty of cuddles.
If you can pull off a remarkably realistic fake partner act and aren’t afraid of a little light deception, hit me up! Please include a couple photos plus a bit about yourself and your acting experience. Aiming to start mid-April.
I’m an equal opportunity employer — girlfriend, boyfriend, nonbinary partner, you name it. All genders welcome to apply for the role if you’ve got what it takes! Only preference is that you have especially luscious hair … for reasons.
No weirdos please.
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Hi,
Okay, I have to admit — your ridiculous request to hire a fake girlfriend to make your ex-best friend jealous is quite possibly the pettiest thing I’ve ever heard. And I absolutely love it.
I’m literally the perfect person for this role. Petty vengeance is my middle name (well, not really, it's actually Y/M/N ... but you get the idea).
A little about my qualifications:
Took some theatre electives in university so I can really sell the dramatics
Lots of experience putting on an Oscar-worthy performance faking ... well, you know ... thanks to my douchebag ex-boyfriend who couldn’t be bothered to learn how to pleasure a woman 🙄
Not afraid to get LOUD and will happily reenact our “passionate nights” at earsplitting volumes in that hallway
Can pull off playing dumb if your friend tries to interrogate me about you (“Oh [whatever your name is]? Yeah he’s just the best at ... stuff”)
No shame in my pettiness game — I once spent my weekly paycheck on a Cameo just so an ex’s favorite celebrity would call him a dingleberry
In terms of looks, I’ve been told I have just the right amount of “hot” to make your poor pal jealous without it being too unbelievable. I’m attaching a few photos for reference.
Let me know if you want to meet up for a glass of wine and we can workshop some juicy storylines for our imaginary romance. Perhaps I was a former fling you rediscovered? A hot younger thing giving you a new lease on life? The possibilities are endless!
I’m a pro at faking it, so selling our relationship will be a piece of cake. Your ex-friend will be bright green with envy by the time I’m through!
Let’s make him regret the day he double-crossed you, babe.
Cheers,
Y/N
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r/offmychest
u/NotBritneySpears · 16h
My ex-best friend’s new girlfriend is the WORST!
I really need to get this off my chest. My upstairs neighbor’s new girlfriend is, without a doubt, the most insufferable human being on the planet. She’s loud, obnoxious, and seems to take immense pleasure in tormenting me for some reason.
A little background: I used to be really close friends with my neighbor. We had a big falling out a while back over ... well, it’s a long story. We don’t talk anymore and there’s a lot of resentment between us. Clearly the universe is trying to get back at me now with this new girl.
This chick has made it her personal mission to give me a play-by-play account of every single intimate encounter she has with him. And I mean DETAILED accounts. The other day I was just trying to enjoy my morning coffee and I hear her incredibly shrill voice from right outside my door:
“Oh he was an ANIMAL last night! The things he did with his tongue, I thought I was going to pass out!”
Like, seriously? Keep it to yourself, weirdo! That’s just the tame stuff too. Sometimes she’ll go into pretty graphic detail describing body parts and positions that I really didn’t need a mental picture of.
Here’s the thing — she quite obviously positions herself to be as close as possible to my apartment without actually trespassing — I mean, she doesn’t even live on my floor for god’s sake! So every word comes through crystal clear. I’ve confronted her about it a few times and she just plays dumb, like:
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry if I was being loud! We just get so carried away sometimes, you know how it is,” with this stupid ditzy valley girl voice and hair toss.
I don’t know if my former best friend put her up to this or if she’s just a massive troll in her own right. But it’s like psychological warfare at this point. Literally ANY time I’m home, I have to listen to her yap about their Sex Olympian-level escapades.
My wife even heard them once and thought I was playing porn at an insane volume! She doesn’t believe me that it’s just this deranged lady running her mouth constantly.
I’m half-tempted to start recording her rants and blast them back at full volume to give them a taste of their own medicine. Or maybe start describing lurid details of my own (admittedly not quite so colorful) sex life in retaliation.
I don’t know, maybe I’m being oversensitive. But living under these two insufferable assholes is a waking nightmare. I need to move or something because this is massively affecting my peace of mind. Who knows if they will ever get bored of tormenting me and move on.
Rant over. Thanks for letting me vent about the neighbors from hell.
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u/chronicgossiper · 12h
Damn, that sucks man. Your neighbor and his gf sound like immature assholes trying to get a rise out of you. I’d look into noise complaint options or even see if you can get them evicted for harassment.
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Reply to u/chronicgossiper · 11h
Seriously? You really think the landlord would evict someone over this? It’s not like they’re blasting music at 3am. Sounds more like passive aggressive pettiness than anything illegal.
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u/chronicgossiper · 10h
Idk, having to listen to people loudly describe their sex acts against your will seems like it could qualify as harassment or creating a hostile environment. Worth exploring at least if they won’t stop.
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u/NotBritneySpears · 9h
Eviction isn’t really an option here since we all own our apartments and there’s no landlord dictating that. It’s not that type of building.
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u/nosyandproud · 8h
Did your former friend move into that building first or did you move in knowing he lived there?
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u/NotBritneySpears · 7h
He was there first, I bought my place a few years after him when I could afford it. Never expected he'd pull something this childish.
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Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 6h
So you willingly moved into the same building as your ex-best friend that you aren’t on speaking terms with? That’s just asking for drama, dude.
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u/NotBritneySpears · 5h
It’s a great building in an amazing location. I wasn’t going to not pursue the opportunity just because he lives there too. It’s a big place, I didn’t think we’d be running into each other much.
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Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 4h
Still seems like a weird decision to willingly insert yourself into his orbit like that if the relationship was so fractured. Probably should’ve seen some fallout coming.
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u/nosyandproud · 3h
Yeah exactly, why would you move somwhere your ex-friend lives if you two clash that much? Kinda put yourself in this situation.
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u/NotBritneySpears · 2h
Okay, let me be clear — he and I were best friends for over a decade before we had a colossal falling out a few years ago. We’re not just some casual ex-buddies who don’t get along. We were legitimately very close for most of our lives until things went nuclear between us. When I decided to move into the building, our friendship had been over for a while already. I really didn’t anticipate he’d take things to this vindictive level years later. I’m not going to miss out on my dream home just because of what happened between us.
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Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 1h
This is getting juicyyy, do tell about what caused the falling out!
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u/NotBritneySpears
Not really trying to dredge up old drama, that’s a whole other can of worms. The girlfriend situation is annoying enough as is.
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Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 51m
Fair enough, you gave context. Still think you two need to have an adult conversation about boundaries. Purposely trying to loudly narrate their sex life at you is unhinged.
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r/relationships
u/yourusername · 19h
I’m catching real feelings for the guy who hired me to be his fake girlfriend to get revenge on his ex-friend ... help?
Buckle up folks, because I’ve got one hell of a tangled situation to unpack here. This is going to be a long one.
About a month ago, I responded to this Facebook Marketplace ad from a guy (let’s call him L) looking to hire someone to pretend to be his new girlfriend. The goal was to make his former best friend/downstairs neighbor jealous after a brutal falling out between them.
I know, I know, it sounds ridiculous. But the benefits were good and I’d be living in his insane luxury penthouse in Monaco rent-free. More importantly, I really vibed with L’s pettiness and desire to get deliciously pathetic revenge on his ex-friend. My last boyfriend was the actual worst, so I was absolutely here for any slightly insane Karen antics.
Anyway, we hit it off immediately at the “audition” over drinks. L is brilliant, successful, gorgeous, and fucking hilarious in a sarcastic, unfiltered way. We both have a wicked mean streak and frankly get off on emotionally messy situations. It was like looking into a mirror — two beautiful trainwrecks finding each other in the wreckage.
From night one, we had crazy chemistry. The back-and-forth banter was electric, we finished each other’s sentences, etc. I felt so comfortable around him despite the bizarre circumstances. I assumed it was all fun and games to toy with his former best friend.
But over the last few weeks of loudly chronicling our “sex marathons”!outside said ex-friend’s door and doing phony coupley things around the city, I’ve realized my feelings are ... complicated. L and I CONNECT on a deeper level, in addition to just being partners in crime. We’ll be tangled up watching movies and he’ll make some perfectly timed quippy comment that has me cackling until my abs hurt. Or we’ll get deliriously wasted and end up baring our souls about our upbringings, dreams, fears — everything.
I’ve never been so open or comfortable around someone before. Our walls are gone. And the most messed up part? Some small, perverse part of me loves the strange intimacy we’ve manufactured through this farce. How much closer can you get than meticulously co-creating a fictional relationship?
In the beginning, I think we were both just in it for the laughs and pettiness factor. But something shifted for me recently. One night we were drunkenly rehearsing how I was going to describe our latest imaginary tryst to his ex-friend and ... I don’t know, I couldn’t stop staring at his lips while he was talking. His face was so close to mine and I felt breathless. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to ditch the script and really kiss him. I had to physically stop myself from lunging forward.
Later, when I went back to my room, I was hit with a crushing wave of realization — I have actual romantic FEELINGS for this basketcase who hired me to play-act as his girlfriend! What the actual fuck?
Guys, I’m in too deep. How did I let this happen? L is technically still my employer and this whole operation has an expiration date. His former friend is already growing visibly annoyed, so Phase 2 (feign a dramatic breakup, I move out, L moves on with his life) is likely coming up very soon.
Do I just bury my feelings and end this gig without saying anything? Do I risk the humiliation of confessing my heart to someone who was only pretending to want me around? Or should I just go for it and make out with him next time we’re tangled on the couch? I’m spiraling here!
The pettiness that brought us together may also tear us apart. Or maybe I’m just a sad clown who read too much into a fake relationship. Someone slap me with a reality check, please! I need perspective from the outside.
Tl;DR - Developed legit romantic feelings for the guy who hired me to be his fake girlfriend as part of his weird revenge plot. Not sure if I should come clean, keep it professional, or start actually making out with him for real. This was NOT part of the deal!
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u/judgingloudly · 18h
Oh honey, you are in a MESS. This is like a bad romcom plot but IRL. I think your only real option is to fess up and tell L how you’re feeling. Contrary to popular belief, the fake dating trope doesn’t always have to stay pretend!
If he doesn’t feel the same way, at least you put it all out there and can move on with some dignity intact. But who knows — from how you describe the crazy chemistry and connection, he might feel relieved you said something first! Don’t let this fire burn out without taking your shot. Oh and definitely keep us updated, I’m invested now!
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Reply to u/judgingloudly · 17h
I agree with this take. You already acknowledged you’re in too deep emotionally. Might as well put those cards on the table and let the chips fall where they may. Shooting your shot is always better than letting the “what if” eat away at you forever!
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u/livefordrama · 16h
I’m sorry but I simply must ask — how did you land a gig like this? And does he happen to have any more openings for a fake girlfriend? Asking for a friend …
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u/yourusername · 15h
Honestly it was a random Facebook ad looking for exactly this — a girl to move in and fake date this guy to drive his feuding neighbor up the wall. I applied semi-joking but he picked me!
As for openings, not that I know of ... yet. I may have to quit soon depending how this all plays out, so will keep you posted if my spot opens up!
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Reply to u/yourusername · 14h
Omg please do! I would 100% take on a role like this, it sounds like a total riot.
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u/unpaidtherapist · 13h
Girl, I think you already know what you have to do here. Is keeping things professional and never admitting your feelings really an option at this point? You’re clearly enamored with this guy and he seems to reciprocate the intensity at least platonically so far. I say GO FOR IT!
Just pull him aside one day, say “hey this isn’t just an act for me anymore, I really like you and need to know if there’s a possibility for us or not.” If he’s as caught off guard and freaked out as you’re implying, a direct conversation is needed to get those cards on the table. Don’t die wondering “what if?” That’s my advice.
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u/everydayopportunist · 12h
This is so wild, I’m living for this drama! Seriously might need to pursue some similar gigs myself, apparently that’s where all the romance happens these days 😂
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u/devilsadvocate · 11h
I’m sorry but I have to go against the grain here — please do NOT make a move or confess any feelings! This guy hired you for a very specific job under very specific pretenses. Catching real feels was not part of the deal at all. Selfishly throwing that at him out of the blue would be so unfair after he opened his home to you. I worry he could feel betrayed and violated even if he did secretly like you back.
My advice? Give it a few weeks, see if these feelings persist or if it was just a passing crush brought on by the intimacy you’ve found yourselves in. If it’s still intense after cooling off, then maybe consider looping him in. But don’t go nuclear until you're absolutely sure. You could risk imploding a good work situation and friendship over a temporary infatuation. Tread very lightly!
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Reply to u/devilsadvocate · 10h
I’m with this take, OP shouldn’t jeopardize her living situation if her feelings might be fleeting. Taking a step back and giving it more time could provide clarity. It’s easy to get caught up in the fantasy.
The more prudent move is to wait until the “job” wraps up before considering opening that can of worms. If feelings persist minus the contrived closeness, she’ll know it's real. But springing it on the guy now seems wildly unfair and could blow up in her face.
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r/AmITheAsshole
u/veganGOAT · 15h
AITA for turning down my fake girlfriend after she admitted feelings, only to want her back days later?
I think I may have tremendously fucked up in a spectacularly messy way. Let me walk you through the tangled web I’ve woven ...
A couple months ago, I (39M) hired this woman to essentially move into my apartment and pretend to be my new girlfriend. I know it sounds batshit crazy … but I was trying to make my ex-best friend/neighbor jealous after a bitter falling out between us.
She was the perfect partner for this ruse — sarcastic and spunky, with a hint of unhinged energy. We bonded instantly over bottles of wine and throwing deliciously overblown “loud sex” performances in the hallway to drive my ex-friend nuts. What was meant to be a transaction quickly bloomed into a legitimately fun, effortless friendship.
Soon after, we started having real sex. It sort of just … happened, albeit very awkwardly at first. Like “well this is weird, want to try it for real just to see?” And what do you know, we had insane chemistry between the sheets too! We were soon sleeping together nearly every night, always swearing afterwards that it was “just for fun” and didn’t mean anything more.
But I started catching feelings. She was hilarious, confident, beautiful — everything I could ever want in a partner. We had connected on a deeper level through the medium of batshit pettiness. And our physical intimacy only amplified that bond.
Cut to a couple weeks ago. We had just finished a particularly athletic round and were cuddled up, spent. Out of nowhere, she pipes up nervously: “Hey … I think I’m really falling for you. I don't want this to just be sex or games anymore. I want to really try being together.”
I froze. The words I had been longing to hear suddenly terrified me in that moment. My throat clenched up as a wave of panic crashed over me (yes, I’m well aware of how stupid this was in hindsight). After an agonizing pause, I managed to choke out: “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. This thing between us was only ever supposed to be fake. I don’t think of you that way.”
I could actually see her face crumble. She quickly mumbled “okay” and slid out of my bed, wrapping a sheet around herself to cover her dejection. I swear I heard muffled sobs through the wall once she was back in her guest room. I felt like a piece of shit.
The next few days were some of the most awkward, brutal tension I’ve ever experienced. She was now acting like a scorned woman just doing her job, no intimacy whatsoever. We could barely make eye contact.
It took seeing her so closed off, so cold, for me to realize how much I desperately missed her warmth, humor, friendship. How much I longed for the easy intimacy we once had, both emotional and physical. I tried a few times to apologize or explain myself, but she brushed me off — utterly walled off to protect herself.
After days of wrestling with my suppressed feelings, I realized that I was in love with this wonderful woman. Hiring her as a fake girlfriend was one of the best things I had ever done because it brought her into my life … and now I didn’t want to let her go. She was becoming my person, even if she had started out as a farce.
But here’s where I really need some impartial perspective — AITA for freezing up and rejecting her confession?
I didn’t meant to tank her feelings so callously. I think I just ... panicked in that moment. The idea of committing to a real relationship terrified me in ways I didn’t expect. My career keeps me constantly on the go, always jet-setting to the next thing. Could I really give a romance the time and energy it deserves right now?
Part of me also felt massively conflicted about the circumstances. I’m literally paying her to pretend to be my girlfriend as a sort of ongoing petty revenge. If I admitted I wanted to actually date her, wouldn't that blur consent lines in some messed up way? Like, is she just going along with it because she’s on the payroll?
I know these both sound like flimsy excuses, but they were very real fears racing through my mind in that moment. Fears that made me impulsively reject her, despite how utterly gone I was.
Now, days later, those same hangups don’t seem so insurmountable. Maybe she and I could make something work, travel schedules and all. And if she reciprocated feelings, it would be a starting point — not her just placating me for a check. We could rip up the old arrangement and start fresh.
But I haven’t confessed any of this to her yet out of gut-wrenching cowardice. She’s still giving me this cold, professional shoulder. I don’t know how to begin recanting my idiotic reaction and opening up about the REAL reasons I panicked — the commitment fears, the moral dilemma, all of it.
Part of me wonders if I even have the right to try and pursue things with her at this point? I absolutely shattered her feelings for my own hangups just days ago. AITA for potentially stringing her along further by trying to retroactively take it all back? Maybe I’ve missed my window and should just let this phase of my life be over before it gets even more painful and messy?
Ugh, I’m rambling now. The crux is — AITA for how I recklessly rejected her in that moment? Do I even have a right to try and make amends after that thunderous fumble? Or should I just take the L, chalk it up to collateral damage of being in the world’s most messy pseudo-relationship, and move on?
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u/juryofone · 14h
YTA, but only because you handled the initial rejection in the worst way possible. Your reasons for hesitating are somewhat understandable. But you really dropped the ball in communicating that to her in the moment.
Instead of calmly explaining where your headspace was at, you just blurted out a kneejerk rejection that crushed her feelings. No wonder she went ice cold — that had to sting like hell! If you had taken a breath and talked it through with more nuance, maybe you could’ve reached an understanding.
The good news is, you’ve now realized how much you DO want this woman in your life as more than a pretend romance. I don’t think you’re an AH for having those feelings or wanting to pursue her again, provided you make a sincere, thoughtful effort to apologize for your tactless approach before.
My advice? Explain the real reasons you froze up, how torn you felt over everything, and make it clear you still have feelings. But lead with a heartfelt apology for how horribly you botched it at first. If she’s willing to give you one more chance after that, DO NOT blow it.
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Reply to u/juryofone · 13h
I agree with this take. He’s not an AH for the situation, but majorly the AH for the WAY he handled rejecting her. That had to sting badly after putting herself out there. The mature thing is to own up to that and properly communicate where his head was at.
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Reply to u/juryofone · 12h
Yeah, going straight for “I can’t do that, I don’t think of you that way” after she bared her soul was so harsh and unnecessary. He could have let her down wayyyy more gently if he was that conflicted about it all. She must’ve felt like a fool!
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u/neutralpartier · 11h
NAH — I get that you panicked in the heat of the moment and why this whole situation is heavy with ethical quandaries. The reality is, you two started off pretending but real feelings developed, and that’s okay! It happens. The moral issue only remains if you knowingly took advantage of or manipulated her feelings while she was on your payroll. Since you seem just as confused as she was, I don’t think any lines were really crossed.
The way forward is to rip off the bandaid once and for all. If you have mutual feelings now, figure out if you want to date as equals. If not, it’s time to part ways amicably while you both still can. But don’t keep paying her while catching feels — THAT would make you an AH.
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u/glasshalfempty · 10h
ESH ... look, you suck for how you handled rejecting her confession. That was really hurtful and avoidant no matter your internal struggles. She sucks for going into this thinking it was all pretend, catching real feelings, and expecting you to want to be serious too. You PAID her to be your fake GF and made that clear.
My suggestion is to have an honest discussion about whether you can BOTH separate the transactions from reality. If you’re both all-in on trying for real, great! But one of you is going to get burned if expectations don’t align. And please, for the love of god, stop paying her!
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Reply to u/glasshalfempty · 9h
This is exactly what I was thinking too! Way too messy ethically to keep paying her as the lines blur between fantasy job and real romance. Either take the plunge and date properly or go separate ways for good.
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Reply to u/glasshalfempty · 8h
Agree but like ... is this even real? How does someone end up hiring a fake girlfriend to make their former best friend jealous? That alone sounds like a bad romcom plot.
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u/criticaloverthinker · 7h
I’m calling cap on this whole wild story. Childhood besties turned feuding enemies living in the same building? A fake girlfriend who moves in as part of an elaborate revenge plan? It’s all too unbelievable.
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u/struggling-with-reddit · 6h
I’ll play along and rate, but no way is this post legit lol. Having a fake girlfriend you eventually catch feelings for while pranking your neighbor? What’s next, one of you is actually royalty or a secret millionaire? Too much happening here.
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Reply to u/struggling-with-reddit · 5h
Hahaha I know right, the excessive details and backstory gave it away as creative writing practice or something. No judgment from me, it was an entertaining read at least!
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u/struggling-with-reddit · 4h
Next thing you know, OP will be claiming he’s Michael Schumacher or something 😂
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r/AmITheAsshole
u/veganGOAT · 8h
UPDATE — I’m the idiot who rejected then realized I loved my fake girlfriend … and she took me back!
When I made my initial post a bit over a month ago about this whole fake girlfriend situation, most of you understandably called it outrageously far-fetched.
Which, fair. How does someone actually end up hiring a woman to fake date them just to make their neighbor jealous? It does sound ripped straight from a Nicholas Sparks fever dream.
Well put on your straight jackets, because this ridiculous saga is 100% real. And I’ve got an update that’s even crazier than the original tale ...
After reading the feedback on my initial post (and getting a whole lot of shit from some friends too), it became crystal clear that I had to make things right. I put her through the emotional wringer by callously rejecting her in the moment, when her feelings were just as tangled up as mine were. I owed her a sincere apology and a proper explanation of why I froze — with no more deflections or excuses.
So I wrote her a long letter. I laid it all out there. How torn I felt about the ethical and emotional complexities of our arrangement. How her vulnerability awoke my own fears about commitment, my transient lifestyle, and whether I could realistically be the partner she deserved. Mostly, I repeatedly owned up to being a thoughtless prick who shattered her trust out of pure pathetic self-preservation.
But above all, I made one thing clear — despite my bumbling, I had fallen for her too. Completely and utterly. She had cracked through my defenses and healing her hurt became the only thing that mattered.
I ended the letter by owning up to the fact that she now held all the power. While she had moved into this arrangement under certain pretenses, I had violated that implied contract. The ball was entirely in her court now. I would abide by whatever decision she landed on — friendship, an amicable parting of ways, or taking the terrifying gamble of trying to make this the real deal.
When she emerged from her room the next morning, I could barely look at her. I was a sweaty, nauseated wreck, steeling myself for the worst. She sat down next to me in silence and unleashed the longest, most blistering dressing down of my life. How I had made her feel so small, so foolish, so painfully vulnerable. Words like “coward” and “asshole” were thrown around. But you know what phrase stung most?
“I wish you had told me all of this up front instead of dealing with it like a child. I could’ve understood where you were coming from.”
It was a dagger — she was absolutely right. My dumb automatic rejection utterly betrayed the openness and intimacy we had built. Still, she didn’t dismiss me entirely. She would need some time to think, but asked that I stand by for an answer.
The limbo period was … not fun.
After four excruciating days, she came to me again. This time, she was almost shy, like her old self. She told me she had thought it over extensively, and ultimately my explanation and full-hearted apology won her over. I may be an idiot, an asshole, and a bit of a mess (her words), but I was an honest idiot with a good heart under all the bravado. And that’s what had drawn her to me in the first place.
So with the understanding that we would both need to work on our communication skills and respective hang-ups, she was in. We would press the reset button altogether, end our old arrangement, and try to make this relationship happen for real — messy origins be damned.
That was exactly a month ago today, and things have never been better. Sure, we still lean into some harmless (and vaguely unhinged) pettiness with my former friend from time to time. Some habits are too fun to quit cold turkey. But ultimately, I’ve never been so grateful for the insane set of circumstances that brought this amazing woman into my life. We may have started as an acting exercise, but we took a leap together into something beautifully real.
And yeah, I still have to hear shit from literally everyone about how our romance origin story is the most unbelievable meet-cute of all time. But I’ve learned to lean into the absurdity. After all, what’s life without a little chaos and a perfect partner to share in the pandemonium?
Thanks to everyone who offered candid advice on my original post. You may have received an update sooner if not for all the people accusing me of faking it! All I can say is … this is my blissfully ridiculous reality now.
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u/juryofone · 7h
Well hot damn, I have to hand it to you — this saga is even wilder than the original post let on! I went from being totally skeptical of the whole outrageous situation to being fully invested in this insane romance. Love that she put you through the wringer a bit before taking you back. You absolutely deserved that and more after treating her like you did.
But huge props to you for manning up with that apology and giving her the power to make the next move. That vulnerability and respect for her feelings despite your own doubts is what true partnership is all about. I have a feeling you two chaotic bastards are going to be just fine as a real couple now that all the crazy pretenses have been stripped away. Wishing you both nothing but more pandemonium and pettiness together!
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u/neutralpartier · 7h
I’m officially obsessed with this love story. You went from hiring a woman off to punk your neighbor, to breaking her heart over catching feelings, to doing the MOST to grovel your way back into her good graces, to ACTUALLY SUCCEEDING. It’s romcom gold! I need this to get optioned for a movie immediately.
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u/glasshalffull · 6h
As wild as this story has been from start to finish, this update has me straight up emotional! The groveling, the way you explained your fears, her roasting you for days before mercifully taking you back … my heart. Love that she cut straight through the bullshit by calling you an idiot AND acknowledging your good heart. That’s the ideal balance.
I’m so invested in this nonsense and need regular updates on how things progress from here. You better not blow it after all this chaos or I’ll be leading the charge to vandalize your apartment!
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u/romanticempath · 5h
What a journey! To go from manufacturing a fake relationship purely for petty vengeance, to developing REAL emotional stakes, to breaking each other's hearts quite viscerally, to finding your way back together through sheer vulnerability? Incredible stuff.
I laughed, cried (a little, don’t judge), and cringed throughout this entire saga. Thank you for bringing us all along for the insane roller coaster. I wish nothing but ridiculous happiness for you and her moving forward!
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u/fairytaledreamer · 4h
I’m sorry but I still can’t get over the fact that this is somehow a real series of events? You’re a madman and this is truly unhinged (but also incredible). How did ALL of this unfold before your 40s?
Romcoms have been put to bed. Welcome to 2024, where people actually hire fake GFs to get revenge on their scorned former friends, develop legit attachment issues, torpedo everything in a panic, grovel for redemption fit for cinematic history, and somehow STILL end up together in some sort of demented happily ever after!
All I can say is cherish the chaos you've manifested. I can’t wait to see what bonkers plotlines await the two you. Start recording everything for the biopic!
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Reply to u/fairytaledreamer · 3h
“Cherish the chaos” is absolutely the perfect sign off for this update. I’m deceased at this whole wild drama, but also soooo invested! Cannot wait for the inevitable Netflix mini series. Thanks for the laughs, drama, and emotional whiplash!
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r/offmychest
u/NotBritneySpears · 21h
My ex-bestie’s wedding to his obnoxious girlfriend was a nightmare … and so was their wedding night (unfortunately)
You’ll have to bear with me on this one, because I’m still reeling a bit from one of the most cringey, uncomfortable, and downright baffling weekends of my entire life. I need to get this off my chest before I have a full mental breakdown.
A couple years ago, I made a post venting about my former best friend’s new girlfriend at the time. For those who missed the saga, she was an insufferably loud woman who seemed to take immense pleasure in loudly narrating her sex life with my former friend right outside my apartment door. It was psychological warfare, plain and simple.
Well, I’m sure you can all see where this is going based on the title. Against all odds and reason, this woman and my ex-friend somehow stuck it out … until he put a ring on it last year. Which leads me to the first in a cascading series of mind-numbing events — receiving a wedding invitation from the happy couple!
Now, let’s be clear — I have not spoken to my former best friend in almost a decade at this point. Not since our cataclysmic falling out (a story for another day). We were thick as thieves until our bond was shattered beyond repair. For him to invite me to his wedding with the woman who crudely mocked their intimacy for my benefit was … certainly a choice.
On one hand, why on EARTH would you invite the person whose heart you deliberately stomped on so many years ago? It felt like a cruel joke, rubbing salt in an open wound that never fully healed. A reminder of their domestic bliss and my bitter ostracism.
Yet on the other hand, maybe there was a subconscious part of me that would have felt insulted if he didn’t invite me after so many shared years? As if he had utterly erased me from his life without a second thought? The thought gut punched me too in an admittedly unhealthy way.
Long story short, I RSVP’d yes … half out of morbid curiosity and half out of a deeply unwell desire to not get excluded from such a significant life event. In hindsight, a foolish decision that kicked off a horrifically uncomfortable series of events.
The wedding itself was … a lot. An over-the-top spectacle at an insanely expensive venue. My miserable self stuck out like a sore thumb surrounded by all the adoring couple’s friends and family. I sat through mushy vows reaffirming their “unlikely origin” in the “most unexpected yet fortuitous way” … while trying not to puke.
So yeah, sheer cringe start to finish. Little did I know the worst discomfort was yet to come!
In perhaps the most on-brand grand gesture of the entire weekend, the groom rented out an entire boutique hotel for all out-of-town guests to stay at after the reception. That way we could all keep the party going nearby before he whisked his new bride off to parts unknown on their honeymoon the next day.
Ever the gracious host with a penchant for the spectacle, he let wedding guests draw for their room assignments out of an actual top hat. I somehow managed to get seated right next to his parents who, while cordial enough, knew me as the ex-best friend responsible for so much fractured history.
But wait, there’s more! Wouldn’t you know, the universe is supremely messed up because I ended up with the room directly underneath the newlywed suite. Yes … I spent their wedding night listening to a live-streamed porn broadcast courtesy of the paper-thin walls and floors.
Dolphin sounds didn’t even BEGIN to cover the unholy noises raining down from above around 2am. I’m talking full-on screams of unbridled passion echoing off the walls at maximum volume. Mind you, this woman had become infamous for over-enunciating their coitus for my benefit previously. Now it was a frighteningly real-life rendition that no noise-cancelling headphones could drown out.
I finally had to flee my room to the lobby. I ended up crashing on one of the lobby couches until an employee politely asked me to leave around 6am. Disheveled, disoriented, and officially diagnosed with PTSD from the sounds I cannot unhear.
So yeah … not exactly a therapeutic reunion that could have allowed my ex-friend and I to bury the hatchet. If anything, this wedding was one massive “screw you” that opened up all the same unresolved wounds. I need about 20 years of intensive therapy to move on.
I also need to find a new place to live because I can’t bear returning to that cursed apartment building.
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u/chronicgossiper · 18h
Dude, I think you need to get some serious perspective here. Your ex-friend getting married and going on a honeymoon has absolutely zero to do with you. That level of self-centeredness is off the charts.
Why in the world would this guy plan an entire wedding — one of the biggest days of his life — around secretly tormenting you again over ancient history? That makes no sense. He invited you as a polite gesture after years apart, probably hoping to start burying the hatchet. The room assignments were random by your own admission.
As for the … “noises” … look, they were on their wedding night. Maybe overenthusiastic, but 100% to be expected between newlyweds. It’s not some psychological ploy, just poor planning on their part for thin walls. You’re projecting like crazy if you think that was directed at you specifically.
At a certain point, you have to realize the universe doesn’t actually revolve around your grudges or history with this person. They’ve clearly moved on to live their best life. It’s on you to stop obsessing over them and do the same.
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Reply to u/chronicgossiper · 16h
I agree, this is just pure paranoia from OP. No newly wedded couple is sitting around thinking “how can we sneakily stick it to your ex-best friend during our wedding festivities?” That’s deranged thinking.
They invited you to be polite, you drew an unlucky room assignment near their suite, and then biology happened on their wedding night. Hilarious and awkward coincidence? Yes. Intricately designed fuck you from the bride and groom? Come on now, that’s giving them way too much credit.
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u/NotBritneySpears · 13h
Maybe you all have a point, and I am still holding onto way too much resentment and baggage from our falling out. My intention wasn’t to imply they orchestrated an elaborate sting operation around their wedding. More just a general sense that the universe has a funny way of reminding me about them at highly inconvenient times over the years.
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Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 12h
Even that line of thinking is incredibly self-centered though. Why would random coincidences or them just … living their lives be the “universe’s way of reminding you” about your failed friendship? That makes it sound like they should perpetually be walking on eggshells and avoiding certain life events just because you can’t get over the past.
Look, it sucks that things fell apart so badly between you two. But they have clearly moved on, as you should too. This obsessive framing of their marriage as some universal affront to you is … not healthy, my dude.
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u/nosyandproud · 10h
The wedding itself sounds like it was in poor taste for sure, so I can certainly understand feeling aggravated and triggered being there as the scorned former friend.
That said … you’re borrowing A LOT of trouble by assuming any of their private wedding night activities were purposely being broadcast to you specifically. Projection level 1000 there.
At the end of the day, these people have built a whole entire life and future together now that quite literally has nothing to do with you anymore. You looking for “signs” that they’re still fixated on you is just self-involvement. For your own mental health, you have to let go of whatever happened and see them as background characters in the story of your life now.
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u/realitychecker · 7h
OP, you need to take a step back and realize that the sheer logistics involved in purposely torturing you at their wedding are just not plausible. Do you really think they were like:
“Alright honey, for our wedding night I was thinking we should make sure your former friend gets the room directly below ours! That way when we really get after it, he’ll be able to hear every excruciating moan and body smacking sound in haunting detail! That’ll show him for being your friend a decade ago! Mwahaha!”
Come on, mate. That’s delusional cartoon villain level scheming you’re attributing to them. Occam's Razor — they just wanted to consummate their marriage in privacy and didn’t account for the thin hotel walls. The world doesn’t actually revolve around your history with this!
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Reply to u/realitychecker · 5h
Lmaooo the idea of them sitting around strategizing the most psychological warfare possible on their wedding night is killing me. “Yes honey, we simply MUST reenact scenes from our noisiest adult films for your ex-best friend’s terrible pleasure!”
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u/buildingbridges
OP, it seems like you really miss having your friend in your life if I’m reading between the lines here. Getting invested to this level over random coincidences at his wedding doesn’t come from a place of hatred, but hurt and longing for that bond again.
My advice? Use this weekend as a wake-up call to stop obsessing, reflect on whatever caused your rift, and decide if you want to properly reconnect. If not, you need to rip that band-aid off for good and stop torturing yourself over what will never be again. Or the walls between you two will just get thinner and thinner ...
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r/ask
u/amateurdetective · 15h
I think these juicy Reddit posts actually interconnect … but I need your help cracking the code
I think I’ve stumbled onto something wild here and I need the Reddit hive mind to help me piece this tangled web together. Are you ready for some batshit conspiracy-level connecting of barely-there dots? Too bad, I’m going in anyway.
So, over the past few years, I kept seeing these extremely juicy, dramatically-written posts pop up every few months that seemed … oddly interconnected despite being in different subreddits.
Hear me out:
First there was the unhinged post in r/offmychest from a guy ranting about his former best friend’s obnoxious new girlfriend. Dude was griping about how this woman would loudly recount the smutty details of her sex life with the ex-friend whenever she was in his general vicinity, seemingly just to mess with the OP. We’re talking legitimately disturbing stuff about feeling “psychologically tortured” by her oversharing.
Fast forward a few months and I stumble across a wild post in r/relationships from the perspective of this same “obnoxious” girlfriend! Except her story painted a whole different, unhinged picture — she was hired on FACEBOOK MARKETPLACE by the former friend to literally move in and fake date him as part of an ongoing revenge plot against the OP from the first post. She rapidly develops legitimate feelings for the guy and it becomes a messy will-they-won’t-they romcom situation.
But THEN there was a follow-up post from the fake boyfriend’s side in r/AmITheAsshole about him realizing he caught feelings too before nearly blowing it, followed by another saga-capping update about them deciding to pursue a real relationship against all odds and absurdity.
Are you seeing the parallels here? These three posters each gave one side of an absolute dumpster fire of a convoluted love triangle situation that seemingly intersected. And based on the intricate backstories, my crackpot theory is they all emanated from the same formerly tight friend group that experienced a bitter falling out.
The insane attention to detail, literary flair, and geometry of it all almost had me utterly convinced these were all fictionalized creative writing exercises posted separately across Reddit … but building on the same unhinged storylines each step of the way.
I’m utterly obsessed with mapping this all out into one cohesive narrative now. My working theory is something like this:
Some guy hired an actress to pose as his fake GF and torment his former friend as revenge for some past betrayal
The two fake partners rapidly caught real feelings amid the ruse, he panics and nearly torpedoes it
Meanwhile, the ex-best friend is losing his mind overhearing the fake girlfriend’s loud performances and comes to Reddit for advice, not realizing it’s all a ploy
After a saga of miscommunication, the fake boyfriend comes clean and the couple decide to actually date for real
Capping things off, the former friend is forced to attend their wedding where he’s subjected to one final night of unholy noises
Does it all track? Or have I completely unraveled the conspiracy and stumbled onto a drastically personal set of circumstances being workshopped on Reddit? If so, that’s some ludicrously elaborate storytelling!
I need to know if I’m onto something here or completely off my rocker. If the former, I’ll burn every last calorie mapping out a master record of events across all the posts. If the latter … someone needs to drop their juicy fanfic writing prompts because these were WILDLY entertaining reads.
Help me connect these dots or point me towards any other potentially linked tales! This has been a public service aneurysm brought to you by pure boredom.
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u/scepeticbynature · 14h
Wow, you’ve gone full Sherlock Holmes with this. I’m dying at how insanely detailed your working theory is in tying together these random Reddit posts into one cohesive narrative. This is either a brilliant piece of performance art … or you need your meds adjusted, my friend.
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Reply to u/scepticbynature · 12h
Hahaha exactly! The amount of time and brain power OP has devoted to mapping this out is beyond obsessive. I don’t know whether to applaud the commitment to the bit or get them professional help.
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u/amateurdetective · 10h
I’m sorry, did you actually read through the posts in question? The intersecting pieces of random, elaborate backstory between all three distinct voices is way too specific and layered for it to be an accidental alignment. There are unambiguous throughlines about:
A pair of feuding former childhood best friends
One hiring a woman off Facebook to pose as his fake GF and torment the other as revenge
Said fake relationship descending into a very real emotional entanglement for both parties
The eventual fallout of the ex-friend having to bear witnessing the real couple’s wedding and chaos that followed
Like that’s such a bizarrely specific plot keeping consistent across three different users’ lenses! So you’re either pointing out the artistry of someone doing an incredibly elaborate creative writing exercise across multiple subs … or these people are just leading unbelievably unhinged lives. And part of me hopes it’s the latter? It’s too batshit crazy not to be true!
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Reply to u/amateurdetective · 9h
Or, and hear me out … it’s all an internal dialogue you’re having with your numerous Reddit personalities to work out your own unresolved relationship issues. We’re all just incredibly intricate fragments of your aching psyche!
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u/opinionatedtruther · 7h
Lmao you are both nuts, but I have to side with OP on this one. The chances of these being all interconnected fabricated stories is way too perfect to be an accident. All the tiny threads and recurring backstories/character details woven between wildly different subreddit posts? That’s not a coincidence.
I could buy it maybe being some extended Reddit fanfic experiment between a couple of redditors seeing who can craft more engaging characters and drama while world-building off each other’s plot threads. Like a weird form of collabing through the confined lens of Reddit posts. It would be pretty genius if so.
But for it to be entirely real with all the coinciding details scattered across entirely unrelated posts like that? I’m sorry, but there’s just no way. That’s beyond the scope of believability for me. OP may be bungling the conspiracy, but they’re onto something for sure!
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u/amateurdetective · 6h
THANK YOU, someone gets it! And to answer your other theory … while I can’t 100% rule out some sort of viral Reddit fanfic experiment, I struggle to believe even the most creative writers would be capable of improvising THAT intricately interconnected of a storyline stream-of-consciousness style like that.
Like each voice and perspective they inhabit remains remarkably consistent across such wildly different contexts (relationship drama, life events, ethical debates, and updates). It would take incredible skill to stay in the headspaces of these distinct individuals and keep their personalities/plot orbits from tangling into an incomprehensible mess. While possible, it seems incredibly unlikely.
That’s what has me believing there’s a remarkable kernel of stranger-than-fiction truth at the heart of this whole saga being teased out piece-by-piece. Or again … I’ve finally been gaslit into being a tin foil hatter of beautiful Reddit fantasies. Either way I’m here for it!
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Reply to u/amateurdetective · 3h
All I have to say is please touch some grass and post to r/creativewriting instead 🙄
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exhaslo · 8 months
Text
Kinktober Day 1- Mafia! Miguel O'Hara
        In this Universe, it was not just the villains' you had to be afraid of. In every corner of the city of Nueva York, there were members of the mafia. The amount of families that ran different parts of this city were starting to make one lose count. No matter how safe you felt, you weren't. Everyone, including you, knew better than to mess with anyone. It was best to keep your head down and mind your own business. At least you wanted to.
        It was just another ordinary work day for you. The alarm clock was put on snooze more times than you could count, and now you were running late. Hurrying down the street with a poorly prepared sandwich in hand, you begged to make it in time for work. It was a miracle that the clothes you wore even matched properly. Honestly, preparing the night before always sounded like a great idea. It was just a shame you were too tired to do so.
        Right as the signal changed to walk, gunshots were heard. Everybody ran the opposite direction, knowing better than to get anywhere near. Everyone, except you. Your lateness was going to get you either fired or killed. As of right now, being killed sounded better than being fired. At least it did in your mind before you actually ran towards your job in the mist of another gang war. The tears in your sandwich were going to be a grim reminder to wake up earlier tomorrow-if you lived till then.
----------
        Miguel sat in his vehicle, watching his men go at it with the members of the Vulture clan. He had warned them several times to do this inside, but what point was there to talk with idiots? Needing some fresh air, Miguel stepped out of his car. How much longer until the other side gives up? Wanting to reach for his own gun, Miguel heard the cries of a woman. It was an all too familiar sound. He knew of the effect he had on them.
"Oh?" A slight smirk formed against his lips as he watched you run through the middle of a warzone, "Qué idiota. (What a dumbass)" He muttered under his breathe.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I won't be late next time! I'm sorry!" You cried repeatedly as you fell on the ground, holding your head.
        Miguel found you entertaining. He drew his gun and proceeded to make his way over to your trembling body. Luckily, he only had to fire a few times before his foot was near your (h/l) (h/c) hair. With ease, he grabbed your arm and lifted you towards him. Like instinct, you grabbed onto him, apologizing like there was no tomorrow. A smug grin formed against his lips.
"Parece que me encontré con un perro callejero. No puedo dejar a una cosita tan bonita como tú aquí sola. (Looks like I found me a stray. Can't leave a pretty little thing like you out here alone)" He said lowly. Finally, you raised your head,
"I-I'm so sorry. I was just late for work and...and...You have a gun." Your words kept stuttered as your brain finally started to connect the dots, "I swear I didn't see anything! I'm just passing through! I'm so sorry!"
"What's your name?" Miguel asked as he led you to his car.
"(Y/N)" You replied, watching his every move.
        You were terrified. You had almost died and were saved by a mafia member. Now your life was in his large hands. His beautiful red orbs felt like they were staring into your soul. There wasn't even a speck of dust on this man's clothes. He was so tall and seemed to be on another level than the other guys. Perhaps owing your life to him was not so bad after all. He was handsome and honestly, if he asked you to do something, you probably would.
"Te haré un buen uso si te gusta lo que ves. (I'll make good use of you if you like what you see.)" Miguel's smirk only widen. It took you a minute to slap your flustered cheeks and get your head out of the gutter,
"Huh? I'm sorry, I don't understand Spanish." You politely told him, not wanting to anger the man with a gun. Miguel motioned you aside before entering the car as well,
"I asked where you worked. I'll take you there."
"Are you sure? I'm already being a burden to you."
"You'll be paying me back of course," Miguel's eyes pierced yours, "Just do what I say and we'll be even."
-----------------
"Ugh, Qué descuidado. Nunca has estado con un hombre, ¿verdad? (How sloppy. You've never been with a man, have you?)" Miguel hissed as you sucked on his large cock.
        His hand held your head, guiding you down his shaft. Tears threaten to spill as you felt his tip hit the back of your throat. He was far too long and you had no experience doing something like this. Stroking your hands against his cock, you tried your best to please him. He did save your life after all. Swirling your tongue against his tip, you felt him twitch. He hand returned to your head and started to move you on his own. It hurt as he fucked your mouth, but it made you feel hot.
"Swallow." Miguel commanded as he shoved his cock deep into your mouth. It burned and hurt your jaw, but you did as he said, "Good girl."
        You let out a cough, trying to hold your composure. Miguel lifted you up and placed you on his lap. He slid your underwear to the side, sliding a finger inside your wet hole. Moans escaped your throat as you held onto his shoulders. His thick fingers stretched you out better than your own toys. It felt good. With a sudden curl, Miguel had you putty in his arms. Your moans were getting louder as your felt your climax approaching.
"Que guarra. A punto de correrme solo con mi dedo. (How slutty. About to cum with just my finger.)"
        If only you knew what he was saying. It turned you on more just thinking about the naughty things he was calling you. This sexy stranger who saved your life was now about to fuck you in his car. You should be regretting this, but your better judgement was telling you otherwise. Feeling Miguel remove his finger made you mewl in protest. His placed his fingers' in your mouth as he lowered your waist.
        Your eyes widen as you felt him slowly enter your throbbing hole. It was hurting. Your small hands gripped onto Miguel, trembling from the feeling of being stretched out. Instead of slowing down, Miguel held your waist and slammed you down on his cock. Your back arched as you let out a cry from your orgasm. He was so deep inside you. Your body felt so full that it made your brain all fuzzy. This was something knew that you weren't sure if you wanted to stop.
"Already? We still have 20 minutes until we arrive at your work. Don't give up on me now," Miguel told you as he thrusted his hips up.
        Another cry escaped your throat as you felt his tip hit your cervix. Miguel was enjoyed this by the lick of his lips. He demanded that you started moving. That hungry look in his eyes every time you bounced on his cock. You felt like you couldn't get enough. Your legs were shaking as each thrust made your stomach turn. Sloppy moans and cries were all you can come up with as his cock bullied your cunt. This man was going to destroy you. Feeling his hands grip your hips was a sign.
"I'll take over now," Miguel's smirk never faded, "Voy a hacerte mi juguete personal, cariño. No tendrás que preocuparte por llegar tarde al trabajo si tu trabajo es mi polla dentro de ti. (I'm going to make you my personal toy, sweetheart. You won't need to worry about being late to work if your job is my cock inside you.)" He whispered in your ear.
        Whatever he said made your body shiver in delight. Miguel moved you against the car seat, slamming his hips into yours. He held your waist up, enjoying the view. Your lewd expressions were one of a kind. The way your boobs bounced with every thrust and how your body twitched when he pounded you were delightful. He could soak in every fiber of your being. You were his new favorite. Feeling your hole suck him made his smirk widen more.
        He moved your legs above his shoulders, enjoying your cried of pleasure as he ventured further inside you. His cock twitched as he neared his orgasm, wanting you to reach yours first. He leaned down to take a nipple in his mouth while his thumb rubbed your clit. His ears perked up as you called his name out. Your body arched once more as he cam on his dick. Miguel chuckled as he picked up his pace. He groaned lowly, shoving himself as far back as he could, coating your walls white.
"M-Miguel....That...was amazing," You barely breathed out. Miguel fixed his hair before reaching for your cheek,
"We're not done yet. We still have 17 minutes until you reach your job...If you decide to work there anymore when I'm done with you." He chuckled darkly, thrusting his hips into once more. You let out a cry, gripping onto the car seat,
"B-But I have...to ah...w-work for...ah~" Your words fell on deaf ears. Miguel was going to fuck the idea of work out of your brain,
"You got saved by me. Whether you like it or not, you're going to be mine now."
"M-Mig-"
"Not everyone gets a chance to be the leader's pet. Enjoy my cock inside you because I'm not letting you go."
        Only a whimper could escape your lips as Miguel kept bullying his cock inside you. Your legs started to grow numb. All you could feel is Miguel. 
------------
"Everyone is dismissed." Miguel spat as he finished his meeting, "Lyla, make sure Peter gets informed on what we discussed. Make sure he gets here on time next time."
"Yes, sir." Lyla said with a chip.
        Once everyone was gone and the door was shut, Miguel moved back slightly. A smirk formed against his lips as he looked down at you. You had been under his desk during the whole meeting, sucking and playing with his cock. Miguel reached out to stroke your hair, enjoying you nuzzle your head into his hand.
"You've gotten better, cariño. How naughty of you to try and distract me while working." He said with a grin. You climbed onto his lip, bringing him in for a kiss,
"At least I was early," You said with a soft whine. Miguel agreed before filling you with his dick, "Mhpm, I-I was going to...hah...ask...if we can, ah, g-go for d-dinner." You whimpered, trembling at his brutal pace. 
"¿Cena? Estoy a punto de llenarte aquí y ahora. (Dinner? I'm about to fill you up right here and now.)" 
"M-Miguel..." You moaned, holding onto him as you felt your high approaching.
        Miguel licked his lips as he watched you melt under his touch. You had been by his side for almost a year now. The family was hesitant to welcome you, but quickly did once they saw how much Miguel enjoyed your company. Needless to say, you never had to worry about being late for work again. Your job was to keep Miguel satisficed, which was a simple task since you lived with him. From dawn to dusk, Miguel used your body to fuel his lust. He liked you far more than anyone before and that was not going to change anytime soon. You belonged to Miguel now and forever.
"Say it again for me." Miguel demanded as he laid you against his desk. You cried softly as he pounded your poor pussy,
"T-Thank you for saving me,"
"Una vez más. (One more time.)"
"A-Ah~ T-Thank y-you for saving me~"
"Good girl."
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mommypieck · 7 months
Text
𑄽୧ first time with jean 𔓘 ᰍ
kinktober day 1: cherry pop!!!
✯⁠ jean kirstein x reader
✯⁠ warnings: loss of virginity, brief oral, p in v
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He's panicking, the thought of doing something wrong is basically eating him alive as he sits next to you in a cinema. You look so beautiful and innocent, but you know, what's going to happen tonight. You and Jean have been dating for about two months, but you never got past the 2nd base. You were scared, and he knew that. That's why Jean tried to make you comfortable by waiting. Hell, he would never turn to celibacy if it meant spending the rest of his life with you. But this morning, when you told him you're ready, Jean lost it. He hopes you didn't mean you're ready just for the date.
The ending rolls on the screen, lights turning all around the cinema
"It was great," you tell him, smiling from ear to ear. His heart stops when he looks at you. You're just so beautiful, and today you will be all his. You catch the look on his face, blushing deeply. Jean takes your hand, leading you out of the cinema. The whole ride home is anxious, but you try to fill the silence with thoughts on the movie. Jean basically shakes when he parks his car next to his house. He notices you are still wearing the same sweet smile ,and you're probably not panicking as much as he is.
"Do you wanna watch something or eat?" he asks with a shaking voice. You notice his nervousness, so you grab his arm, gently massaging it.
"We can go upstairs," you suggest, your feet seeming the most interesting thing for you at the moment.
"Okay." he breathes, kissing the top of your head. You giggle before leaning to kiss him on the lips. The kiss is sweet but leaves you both wanting more.
"I'm gonna wait upstairs," he tells you, flashing you a nervous smile. Most of the nervousness already disappears as he climbs the stairs. He knows he has nothing to be afraid of you, but he doesn't want to hurt you
He sits on the bed, looking around the room unsure what to do. He takes out the condoms and lube from the bedside table, scanning the two objects with his eyes. Jean's sure he has the right things, he doesn't wanna mistake the lube for soap even though it's basically impossible.
"You idiot, why would you have soap next to your bed?" he thinks to himself. It's true, he's panicking again for his own good.
The door opens, revealing you in a satin robe. Jean's jaw drops, you're not even naked, yet you make him lose his mind. You come back in a satin robe, making Jean's imagination wander. He wonders what might be under the robe, and it's soon revealed when you let it fall from your body.
"I'm sorry, I didn't have anything matching," you say, looking everywhere but his face. He's stunned. You're standing in front of him in a red bralette accompanied by black panties. It doesn't match for sure, but he thinks it's the prettiest thing.
"You're so beautiful, love," he says, his voice almost turning into a whine. He's painfully hard in his pants, but he doesn't wanna think about it - the only thing on his mind is you. You come closer to sit on his lap, but you quickly jump off when he hisses in pain.
"It's okay, love. You make me so excited," he explains, bringing you on his lap again. This time Jean makes sure you sit on his thighs so that his cock isn't sandwiched right under your clothed pussy.
Jean starts leaving kisses down your body. He stops by your breaths, caressing them through the lacy bralette. He doesn't allow himself to take the garment off, he wants you to do it. He wants you to take it off.
"Can you please take it off?" you beg him but only receive him shaking his head.
"Can you?"
You flash him a soft smile before sitting on the bed. You open the bralette at your back, letting the straps fall down your shoulders. He watches every second with wide eyes, kneeling on the floor between your legs, his arms around your middle. His breath hitching when your eyes meet.
"Do you like me undressing myself?" you ask him just when the bra is about to fall down. Jean's speechless, he doesn't know what to say to you, he only knows that he needs to be inside of you right now. You finally thought the piece of clothing away, straightening your back. Your breathing is also deep, and you try not to close your eyes at the way Jean is looking at you.
"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever laid my eyes on," he whispers, Jean can't even say it with his full voice because of how enchanted he is. He carefully cups your breasts with his large hands, he doesn't dare to squeeze yet. His fingers brush against your nipples lightly before he gets his mouth on your again. He licks a stripe right in between breasts, making you arch your back. He chuckles at how sensitive you are. His mouth travels downwards, sucking dark spots all around your tummy. You moan when he kisses the front of your panties. You've never felt like this before. Every touch feels like a fire on your skin, and you're sure you're dripping inside your panties.
"I'm gonna take this off," he informs you as he takes the garment off, leaving you naked on his bed. At the age of 19, he never thought he would see a naked woman on his bed, but here you are. He spreads your legs apart, his breath catching against your bare pussy.
"I wanted to go all the way, I thought we would leave this for another time," you confess. His gaze sunken, Jean doesn't want you thinking this way. He dreamt about making you feel good for so long, he doesn't care if he's the one not feeling anything, your touch is like a blessing for him.
"Can I still taste you?" he asks for permission, and he gets it. You gently pat his head, bringing him closer to your core. You feel shy because of the way he's looking at you. He watches your core as if it were the prettiest flower in the world. He uses his fingertips to spread your lips apart before his tongue touches your clit. You hiss at the stimulation, and Jean sees this as a positive response to continue. He swirls his tongue around your opening, focusing on your clit from time to time. You're sweet, addictive sweet in his opinion. His cock aches in his boxes, your moans are just too good. He reaches down to stroke himself through his boxers, impatience taking over as he undresses completely. Your eyes widen when you notice his size. Jean catches your look, and he smirks.
"I'll make it fit," he says, using your juices to lubricate his cock. he presses the tip against your pussy, slowly pushing in. You shut your eyes in pain, he's big, and it hurts.
"Shhh, it's okay." Jean coos, kissing your cheek. His other hand brushes your hair out of your face.
"Let's go a bit deeper." he grabs your hands, thrusting his cock deeper. He stills when about half of his cock is inside of you to ask you how you're doing. When he sees that you're taking him well, he thrusts the rest of his cock inside.
"I'm all in, you're such a good girl." he praises you, kissing all over your face. He pulls out until he's halfway inside of you before thrusting in again. His speed is slow ,and his thrusts are shallow, but it's enough for both of you. He presses his weight on top of you, and you wrap your arms around him. You've never been this close to each other, and it's exactly what you needed.
"I love you so much," he confesses, burying his face into the crook of your neck. It's too much for him, and he knows that if you keep squeezing him like that, he won't be able to last long.
"I love you too," you respond, and that's what tips him over the edge, he cums inside you in thick ropes. Jean falls on top of your body, embarrassed by how fast he came. You take his head into your hands, caressing his cheeks and telling him it's okay.
"Let's make you cum." he says, still embarrassed. He reaches down to touch your clit, rubbing it in fast circles. It takes him a few swipes before you're cumming.
The two of you lay next to each other, breathing heavily from what just happened.
"I'm sorry." he apologizes and snorts.
"Don't," you say, smiling at him. he returns the smile, cuddling your body closer to his.
"But I am big, right?" he smirks, making you slap his arm.
"And you cum too quickly."
"That's because I love you, and I'm so attracted to you."
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taglist: @mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @ffakegucci @merachannie @th3girln3xtdoor @iheartpieck @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @7haze @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx
i just can't get these tags to work, im sorry
@dngerwayz @nwptune @universllypiratecolor @d1lf-luvr @nobody289x @gia999 @banchangsbbbg
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The Look of Love.
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Synopsis - You, Buck and Eddie are absolutely, undeniably, head over heels in love with each other. It seems like everyone can see it except for the three of you.
Pairing - Evan Buckley x Female Reader x Eddie Diaz
Warnings - none!! just idiots in love.
Word Count - 1k
Author's Note - oh my buddie heart was bursting while writing this. whenever I watch 911, I always think about how easy it'd be to be friends (or more than) with eddie and buck. and then this was born!! hope you enjoy reading this sweetness as much as I enjoyed writing it <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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Buck twirls you around, strong arms circling your waist. Your feet don't touch the ground as he spins you, the skirt of your dress billowing in the breeze. You lean back in his hold, and catch sight of Eddie throwing Christopher up in the air, both of them laughing.
Buck puts you down and grins at you, Cheshire cat smile bright and blinding. You smooth your hands across his chest, flattening out his crisp white dress shirt where you've crinkled it. You tug at his bow tie, straightening it gently. Your gaze meets his, and you beam at him.
"Have I told you how handsome you look tonight, Evan Buckley?" you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck to sway with him. There's a smooth, jazzy melody echoing through the huge backyard, illuminated by golden, twinkling lights.
He quirks a brow at you cheekily before answering.
"I wouldn't mind hearing it again."
"I'm sure you wouldn't," you laugh, shrieking as he dips you backwards quickly.
"Well, you look very handsome. I like you in a tux."
You swear you see him blush slightly, heat creeping across his cheeks. He finds his confidence again, sliding his hands across the exposed skin of your back slowly.
"You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen," he tells you sincerely, eyes never leaving yours. "I should tell you that more often."
"Yes, you should," you tease, grinning at him.
You take notice of his smile, his relaxed shoulders, the way he's swaying with you effortlessly.
"You love weddings, don't you?"
"Hell yeah I do!" he replies delightedly. "Everyone I love all in one place, dancing, music... what more could you want?"
You can't wipe the smile off your face. He's right. The entire 118 is here, together as a family. Everyone is happy, excited to be celebrating Bobby and Athena's vow renewal. It's not often you all get to leave work at work and enjoy yourselves completely. You plan to make the most of every single second.
You feel two warm hands find your hips from behind, instantly leaning back into the broad chest behind you, knowing who it is immediately.
"Hola, Mr Diaz."
"Hola, hermosa."
"You gonna keep her all to yourself all night, Buckley?" he asks, wrapping his arms around you, over the top of where Bucks are already resting. You're sandwiched between the two of them, completely content.
"We were avoiding you and your terrible dance moves," Buck jokes, the three of you swaying together now.
"Are you hearing this?" Eddie asks incredulously, chuckling into your ear. "My terrible dance moves?"
"Don't listen to him, Eds. His ego lies to him."
"It's called confidence! Sorry if I have faith in my dance moves!"
The three of you laugh, bodies and souls tangled and intertwined on the dance floor.
Across the backyard, Chimney and Hen are sat at their table, watching you, Buck and Eddie move to the music, arms wrapped around one another.
"They really love each other, don't they?"
"Oh, yeah," Hen laughs. "Wish they'd all just admit it."
Chimney looks at his best friend in confusion, brows quirked and face crumpled.
"... What?"
"Oh, come on, Chim," Hen chuckles. "It's twenty twenty three. Get with the program."
"You mean, like, love love," Chim confirms, still puzzled.
"Yes, Howie. Love love. In love. The three of them are completely in love."
Chimney processes for a moment, before a light bulb goes off in his head.
"Oh, shit!" he laughs. "They totally are!"
"Damn, men are oblivious. How am I the only one that's noticed?"
"You aren't," Bobby and Athena say in unison, pulling out chairs to sit at the table.
"But we can't rush them. Good things like this take time," Athena offers.
Bobby glances over at the dance floor. You're holding Buck and Eddie's hands, and Chris is too, the four of you dancing and laughing. He smiles for moment, before speaking.
"You know they basically live together?"
When he's met with confused faces, he continues.
"They all crash at Eddie's place with Christopher so often, they've practically moved in. Buck hasn't slept in his own apartment in months."
"I mean, how do you even... navigate something like that? The three of them? It's so complicated," Chimney asks genuinely.
"They'll figure it out," Bobby assures. "They always do."
With that, he rises from his chair and across the yard. He scoops Christopher up into his arms, promising him cake and soda, much to Eddie's dismay. He winks at Buck before carrying Chris away, leaving the three of you alone.
Eddie surprises you by grabbing your hand and then Bucks, pulling you both away from the crowd.
"Come on. I wanna show you something."
He leads you up and into the guest bathroom of the house, rolling his eyes at you and Bucks suggestive comments. He's first to climb out the window and onto the roof, making sure you get through safely in your dress.
The three of you sit and watch your friends in the yard below, quietly reflecting. You're suddenly aware of the way you're sandwiched in between them again, thighs pressed together. You lean left and rest your head on Eddie's shoulder, interlinking your right hand with Bucks.
"How lucky am I?" you breathe. "To be surrounded by so much love."
Eddie rests his head atop of yours, smiling as he watches Buck lean in to rest his on your shoulder. The three of you exhale.
"We're the lucky ones," Buck murmurs. "I never thought I'd have this."
"Well you do," Eddie reassures. "And we're not going anywhere, Buckley."
"He's right, Buck. We're not going anywhere. Ever."
Evan sits up to kiss you on the cheek, before leaning over you and doing the same to Eddie.
The three of you sit on the roof, bodies and souls intertwined, illuminated by the moonlight. How lucky you are, to be surrounded by so much love.
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luveline · 5 months
Note
hi jade i’m going through a breakup right now and my ex was really toxic so i was wondering if you could write something with Steve, where reader is dating him after and thinks that everytime he does something nice for her she has to repay him with sex. like even after a date or when he buys her something. that’s literally how my ex made me feel
if not it’s totally cool and thank you💕
hi my love, I'm really sorry that that was happening to you, it isn't okay! you're much more than your intimacy with someone and you deserve to be given good things without expectations. I hope this is what you wanted to read <3
tw past implied coerced sex /sexual assault
“Up you go.” 
You shriek, clawing at the hands on your hips as Steve lifts you up a step. “Don't!” you laugh, failing to get out of his grips. 
“M'just helping you, babe, alright? Don't be so ungrateful.” 
He's joking, but the air feels like it's been knocked our of you. Steve continues to heave you up the steps to the house, sandwiching you between his front and the door as he unlocks it. 
“Come on, beautiful,” he says, practically dragging you inside, “what happened? Your legs stopped working.” 
It goes without saying that Steve is really nice. Eddie told you he's always like this when he's in love, but you're reluctant to call it love just yet. Dating is difficult for you sometimes —you overthink when you should be kissing, and flinch sometimes when he's kind. But you're having a really, really nice time with Steve and you want to keep trying to be with him. 
He knows you've gone somewhere else, his hand coming up around your chest to rest on yout sternum. “Hey, you okay?” 
“I'm fine.” 
“Yeah?” He walks you to the living room. “It was a good day, right?” he asks into your cheek, propping a soft kiss there. “God, you make me so happy.” 
Your face and neck flush with heat. Steve gives you a squeeze of a hug and encourages you to sit on the couch, where he immediately kneels at your feet. What he's saying is lovely, but when he starts to untie your shoe laces, you realise it had been a prompt. To be grateful, to show him it was a good day. He slides your shoes off with a grin, and your hands go to your button. You unzip your jeans, and Steve's smile stutters. 
“Do you want to?” you ask, paused. 
“Want to what?” 
“Take them off for me?” 
“Are they hurting you?” 
You realise different things at the same time. Steve your intentions, and you his lack thereof. “Shit, I'm sorry,” you say, as he says, “Oh, oh, um?” 
“I thought you wanted–” 
“You're perfect, and I want to if you want to, but I wasn't trying to come on to you,” he says, holding your ankle. “I'm sorry, I'm embarrassing you. Don't be embarrassed, please, I'm such an idiot–” He puts his face against your knees.
You pull your shirt down over pants to hide their open state. “You… we had such a nice day. Don't you want…” You cross your arms over your stomach. “I wanted to. I mean, you should get something back.” 
“I should get what back? Why would you think that?” he asks. Steve gets quiet when things are serious. He has a mixture of shock and hurt in his eyes looking up at you, but his hands stay gentle as they climb your legs.
You can't admit it. The weight of it stays on your tongue. 
Steve thinks about it, and maybe he sees it in your face, but eventually he says, “With him?” 
You look away. 
Steve climbs onto the couch beside you with a quiet huff. “When I said we had a good day, that's all I meant. That's…” He takes one of your hands, pulling it toward him, his gaze insistent on your face until you meet his eyes. “I really, really like you. Like–” He puts your hand on his chest and holds it there. “You don't have to do anything for it.” His lips pout gently. “Am I saying the wrong thing?” 
“No.” 
He leans in to kiss your cheek. “Good,” he says, and kisses it again. 
You smile, tilting your head to your shoulder, tickled at his breath as it fans out by your ear. 
“Baby,” he murmurs, “are you okay?” 
You nod, worried about how you might sound if you speak. 
“You never have to do that.” 
“I didn't mean to make it seem like you thought that I did,” you mumble. 
“I know. It's confusing, right? Being with someone new after a long time with someone else. But I want to be with you, and I'm sorry that you– that he made you feel that way, that he could treat you like that. I'm sorry.” 
“It's okay, Steve. I'm sorry too.” 
“Well don't be.” He works his arms around you in a hug, a careful hand behind your neck. “I don't want you to be sorry. You didn't do a thing wrong.” 
He sounds angry for a split second, and you know undeniably that he isn't angry with you. You hug him back with much more gusto, so tight he actually groans. He doesn't make you stop, though. Just hugs you closer in response.  
“You want me to get you some sweatpants or something?” he asks. 
You nod into his neck, slinking down further into his embrace. Neither of you make any efforts to actually pull away. 
821 notes · View notes
theitgirlnetwork · 8 days
Text
Earn It
Ch. 2 : Esmerelda Variation
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Heaven's outfit at the match:
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Note: Thank you for the insane amount of love you guys are showing this. This is still a ground work laying chapter so still a little short but with a bit of drama. I should warn that just like the characters from the movie, Heaven is going to be ambiguous. Sometimes she'll be great, sometimes she'll be toxic (you have to remember she's best friends with Tashi for a reason). Anyways, you will get to know her as the story goes on. Thank you for all of the likes, follows, reblogs and notes, I really love hearing from you all and will be responding to them today. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I wrote it in the middle of the night lol. (P.s. I have a bad track record with tag lists but I'm going to try, let me know if it works.)
Taglist: @spookystitchery @anehkael @fkaams
“You remember when you said you’d let me win this one?”
“That was a lifetime ago.”
Art whips his head to look at Patrick who’s staring out onto the currently empty court, leaning back on the bench with his elbows. “But what about my grandmother?”
“You better hope she has a stroke.” the brown haired man shrugs, patting his friend’s shoulder. “I mean Tashi Duncan is gonna be watching. Tennis princess. And her hot friend. Can’t fuck up, sorry man.”
Art just shakes his head and takes a swig of water. Two hours had passed since this morning’s run-in and he still hadn’t been able to force himself to tell Patrick about the fact that Heaven’s number was on the line too. It’d only be fair, he knows that. But…Art really didn’t want Patrick to have it.
He should’ve just asked her for it directly instead of hiding behind this performance in interest in getting it from her. But he’d been thrown off. He’d truthfully thought he wouldn’t be able to see her again after she announced she had a boyfriend to the group. When he saw her on the beach that morning he found himself jogging down to catch her, and struggling to keep pure thoughts as she talked to him in her skimpy workout gear, telling him she’s single now. 
She was just so pretty. The sweat and the morning sun made her skin glisten. Her smile on her face made her cheeks dimple cutely and drew his attention to her soft lips. And she had this look in her eye. She and Tashi are so different yet so alike. She was asking him if competing was how he wanted to get her number. He was asked to make the choice. But it was the challenge he found swimming in her gaze. Like, there was only one right answer, that she expected him to be able to make the decision himself. Like if he shied away now, the little fire he saw in her eyes would die. 
Heaven was just as into this as Tashi was. 
The thought of her giving that look to Patrick too, it was something he couldn’t handle.
“Shame about that boyfriend though…wonder if it’s serious…Art. Art?” 
Art jolts out of his inner thoughts and focuses on his friend opening his breakfast sandwich next to him. “D’you think Heaven’s relationship is serious? I feel like she was flirting a little. Poor bastard. Sending his girl on the road without him when she looks like that? Fuckin’ idiot. And she’s a dancer, do you know what that means?” Patrick asks, holding the sandwich out for Art to take a bite, smiling when he does and swiping his thumb across his mouth to rid him of some crumbs.
“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”
“She’s fuckin’ flexible, Arthur.” He growls, a smirk on his face. “She’s bendy and shit.”
Art’s lip curls in disgust as he shoves his friend, huffing out an irritated laugh when he’s shoved back. “Don’t fuckin’ talk about her like that. Either of them, they’re people, jesus, Patrick.”
“Yes, exactly. Beautiful people. That I would like to fuck.”
“You’re a great guy, man, really.” he sighs sarcastically, tossing his arm around Patrick’s shoulder.
“Thanks man, I really appreciate that.”
Heaven is quiet as she lets Tashi guide her to their seats in the center for the Donaldson v. Zweig match. Her friend had been excited all morning, ready to finally see some “real fuckin’ tennis’. Heaven was excited too. She’s always enjoyed watching people she knows do what they’re passionate about. 
That’s why she’s always loved watching Tashi play tennis. Tashi plays tennis like she’s making love and going to war all at the same time. She leaves everything on the court, like each match is the last thing she’ll ever do. She goes somewhere, and Heaven likes going with her. Passion is what moves her. She’s passionate about dance. A life without it is meaningless.
“You good?” Tashi asks, nudging her knee with her own, grabbing Heaven’s attention.
“Yeah, I’m fine, why?”
The taller girl shrugs, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder with pursed lips. “Just making sure you’re not letting that dickhead Trevor get to you. He’s a waste of time and space in your brain. Can’t play basketball for shit and doesn’t know when to stop.” Tashi nudges Heaven again when she rolls her eyes, facing the court. “I mean, you obviously don��t have to listen to me, babe, I just know you’re too good for that shit. Don’t want you to waste your energy.”
That shit. That’s the shit she doesn’t like about Tashi. When she can’t tell if she genuinely is being her best friend, or is jealous that she’s been sharing Heaven’s attention. The condescending demand that Heaven show no weakness regarding someone other than her. Heaven knows Tashi wants what’s best for her. But she doesn’t own her emotions. 
“Said I’m fine, T.” Heaven huffs, ignoring Tashi’s stare out of the corner of her eye and opting to watch the announcer climb the ladder and take position. “By the way, I saw Art this morning. I told him that we could double the stakes. Winner gets your number and mine.” When Tashi’s reaction doesn’t come, Heaven looks at her to see that she’s now facing forward, smiling almost evilly at the court.
“God, this is gonna be so good. Do you know how horny those guys are? They think the winner is gonna end up fucking us together, this is gonna be a real match.”
Heaven goes to respond but pauses as the men begin making their way onto the court, their names echoing in the microphone as they begin placing their bags down. Tashi finishes signing an autograph for a fan sitting behind them and settles back into her seat. 
Both men immediately seek them out in the crowd, two sets of eyes finding the girls sitting in the center. Patrick points his racket in their direction with a cocky smile before turning to take to the court. Art gages their reactions to his friend, watching both women offer smiles to him and offering them his own wave. A bright grin lights his face when they return it. 
“Boys are so easy.” Tashi laughs through her teeth. 
“Very.” Heaven agrees, crossing her legs as she watches the match begin. Both men are working their asses off out of the gate. The ball sails back and forth across the net. Their grunts ring out into the air. Their eyes tense, sweat dripping, breathing heavy. At first, they were being showmen. Both of them stopping, looking to the stands for the girls' approval only working harder when the most they are offered back is a small nod. 
But they got focused. They moved faster. Worked harder. They forgot them and just played some fucking tennis. And it was sexy as hell. For the first time ever, Heaven was experiencing the feeling she gets watching Tashi play. And she was experiencing it watching someone else.
Tashi was enjoying the game immensely. She loves this shit. This is the game she lives for, and she and her best friend had made it more interesting. She grins as she watches the ball go to Patrick, then Art, then back again. Her head swiveled with everyone else’s and she felt happy. Impressed. 
Until she saw Heaven out of the corner of her eye. 
Heaven sitting on the edge of her seat, looking at Patrick then Art then Patrick then Art. She hadn’t looked at Tashi since they started. It’s normal. They’ve watched matches together before, but this look on her face. That was supposed to be Tashi’s look. 
Biting her lip in focus, breathing slightly elevated in the excitement, one hand toying with her name chain on her otherwise bare collar bone as the other clutched the arm of the chair, arched forward, leaning towards them. 
Tashi shakes her head briefly and focuses back on the match, placing one hand on Heaven’s knee. 
Just in case she slipped from her seat. 
When Patrick took his bow, looking through his dark lashes to see Heaven and Tashi’s reactions. Both of them look pleased. Offering him applause as he stands before going to grab his things. 
Art watches in defeat. The muscle in his jaw jumps as he clenches it in irritation. He walks off his adrenaline, pacing between clearing his things from the bench. He feels a heavy hand clap on his back. “Good game, man. I’ll meet you out front, yeah? I’ve got a number to collect.”
“Yeah. Good game.” he says quietly. 
Two. Two numbers. Both. He’s getting both. He deserves neither, and he’s getting Tashi Duncan and Heaven Whitlock. 
Art sits on the competitor’s chair, pulling his shirt off and tossing it over his head to shield himself from the sun as he puts his head back. He doesn’t know how long he’s sitting there. But he can’t bring himself to get up. To meet Patrick. To watch Tashi know he’s better than him as she gives him her number. To watch Heaven decide that he hadn’t earned the right to want her.
He doesn’t remove the shirt until he hears shoes clacking on the court. He’s expecting to see an employee of the tournament but is shocked to see Heaven standing in front of him with an unenthused look. 
“Oh, good, I thought you were crying.”
“Um, nope.” Art huffs, a wry smile on his face. “That would be a little pathetic, even for me.”
Heaven’s head tilts, her dark, silky hair falling to the side as she does. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other and Art hops out of the chair, offering it to her. “How is almost winning pathetic?”
“I didn’t almost win-”
“He didn’t sweep you. You could’ve won. He’s just better today. When Tashi wins, the other person usually doesn’t even get more than one point.” Heaven pushes up into the seat, crossing one leg over the other. Art can’t help but reminisce. Her legs are now covered by her light washed jeans, but her bare shoulders remind him of the expanse of glowing skin he’d seen earlier this morning. “The score was close.” 
Art smiles slightly at that. He’s still annoyed he was unable to beat his friend, but her words, while based solely in logic, still managed to be comforting. “So, uh, I bet Patrick was pretty fuckin’ happy to get you and Tashi’s numbers.”
“Oh, he was pretty damn excited.” Heaven laughs. “It was cute.”
Ouch. “Yeah, I’m sure I won’t hear the end of it.”
Heaven nods, lips rolling inward as she uses her arms to push herself forward, kicking him lightly with her leg, smiling flirtily when he catches her foot, his large hand encasing her ankle. He rights her gold anklet, turning it so that the cross on it is facing upward before bringing her foot back to the ground. “What about you?”
“What about me? I lost. Fair and square.”
“You did.” she grins, resting her chin in her hand. “But the wager changed this morning didn’t it? I agreed that the winner would get my and Tashi’s numbers, but you had an added requirement, right?”
Art’s brows furrowed in confusion briefly before the realization hits him. “I had to earn it.”
“If you’d won, but didn’t earn the win, I wouldn’t give it to you. I have my opinion. What’s yours? Do you feel like you earned my number today?” 
“You want to give it to me anyway?” 
Heaven shakes her head and hops down from the seat, moving closer to Art and fully expecting him to back up, pleasantly surprised when he just tilts his head down to accommodate her height. “I want you to tell me if today was your best.”
Art breathes out heavily. There’s a part of him that wants to just say ‘fuck it, yes’. He wants to say that's the best he can do, and he did earn her number already. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t look her in the face and say he couldn’t do better. He couldn’t have her look at him like he didn’t have potential. “No.”
That’s apparently the right answer, because Heaven offers him a quiet, “Good.” before brushing past him, her arm narrowly missing his, causing the hairs on his skin to stand. 
As he watches the girl prance away from him gracefully, Art bites back his own smirk, looking to the ground and nodding to himself. 
He has some work to do.
“Just tell me. I just wanna know.” Art chews his gum, trying to look nonchalant as possible as he and Patrick make their way onto the courts.
He’d been haunted by the way his friend is seemingly getting joy from being very secretive about what he’s been doing with Tashi and Heaven. He knows he’s been talking to them. He can tell. It’s in the smug looks. The fucking half stories without names. He’s fucking keeping them to himself. Won’t even share their names with him. And in response to Art’s irritation, Patrick smirks. The same stupid fucking crooked smirk that always hides his snide remarks and secrets. Usually, Art has a twin one to match, now, the joke is on him.
“I can’t believe you, of all people, are telling me to kiss and tell. You used to be a gentleman, Art.”  Patrick chuckles, grabbing a ball and preparing to serve.
“Just tell me if you slept with either of them.” Art pushes, moving to the opposite side of the net and getting into position. “C’mon, it doesn’t matter. If you’ve slept with Tashi, do a normal serve. Serve like me.” 
Patrick hesitates a bit, shaking his head as he looks at his friend’s determined face. He knows Art is not gonna stop asking. But he’s gonna be so butthurt about the answer. He rolls his choices around in his head, briefly considering if it would piss off the girls for him to talk about it and deciding they wouldn’t care about Art knowing. And, he couldn’t help himself from bragging. 
Setting up the serve and sending the ball sailing over the net, Patrick gives Art the confirmation he was seeking. Art offers him a smile in an attempt to appear nonchalant, and goes to hit the ball, only to see a second one flying past him on his other side.
“Wh-”
Patrick grins again, watching the two balls bounce and roll on the opposite sides of Art. He shrugs, strolling over to the net. “I figured you’d ask about Heaven too.” Holding his hand out in front of Art’s mouth he catches the gum he spits into it. “They…uh fancy themselves a package deal.”
“Really?” Art breathes through the smile he has painted on his face. 
“Yeah.” Patrick squirts water into his mouth. “S’fuckin’ awesome.”
Art just chuckles politely until Patrick turns around to get another ball, using his friend’s distraction to let his smile drop into an aggravated frown.
The next time the whole group is all together is move in week. Heaven and Tashi had somehow convinced the men that even though Patrick was packing up for his tour and Art was also moving in, they needed to help them move into their dorms. They were starting with Stanford today and planned to make their way to UCLA tomorrow to get Heaven’s stuff together. While Art now naturally had Tashi's number because they were going to school together, he and Heaven had stuck to their deal. He hadn't decided what he was going to do to get it. Maybe win a match while she was here visiting in a couple weeks. Or maybe he had to beat Patrick specifically. He didn't know, but he as much as he wants her respect, he was getting sick of waiting.
Both men had removed their shirts in the California heat, carrying Tashi’s tennis equipment, replacement mattress, mini fridge and all ten tons of luggage she brought. 
The women were being helpful too. Heaven was apparently resting her legs in anticipation of her audition tomorrow, and rode comfortably on Patrick’s back up the steps during the first trip from the van. After that the girls had made Tashi’s bed before both climbing onto it and sharing a lollipop as they watched the boys work. 
“No, I want my printer over there.” Tashi calls, popping the candy out her mouth and passing it to Heaven, who is absently scrolling on her phone when she drags it into hers.
“Next time, I want green apple.”
Patrick drops the printer on the desk and turns to them. “You know, people hire movers for stuff like this. Where’s your dad?”
Tashi just ignores him, leaning her head over to look at whatever Heaven is staring at on her phone.
“Men used to build houses, you know.” Heaven says, tilting the device so Tashi can see better. The latter nodding at whatever she’s being shown.
“Mm, and go to war.” Tashi sighs boredly, “You guys can’t carry mini furniture?”
Patrick huffs irritably and looks to Art to back him up. “We’re almost done.” The blond shrugs, wiping the sweat from his brow. 
“You just like kissing their asses.”
“And you don’t?” Tashi calls from the bed. 
Patrick huffs and lifts the printer again, moving it to where Tashi indicated it should go. Meanwhile, Art moves over to the bed finally done emptying the trolley they borrowed from the university. “What’re you two looking at?”
“I’m helping Heaven decide what piece she should do for her audition in a couple days.” Tashi rolls off of the bed and stretches her muscles, “she’s being stubborn.”
Art’s brows furrow as he looks down at Heaven, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, not reacting to Tashi’s criticism at all. She’d known about that audition since before they met them. He’s shocked to hear she still hasn’t decided on a piece. 
“It’s not being stubborn, Tashi-” the girl pauses her movements at the use of her real name, brow raising. “It’s my audition.”
“Okay. Yeah, I just don’t wanna hear you whine for the next two weeks about how you should’ve done Odile from Swan Lake but pussied out because it’s hard and you know you’d complain.”
“I’ve done it before.”
“Exactly, babe, exactly. That’s why I don’t get why you don’t just go set the tone.” Tashi chirps. Her voice does that thing. That thing she does when she's pretending she's being casual about something. Going up an octave to show just how much she doesn't care.
Heaven sits up then, a stern look on her face that can rival the one Tashi gives, both hands planted in the bed as she stares the other girl down. “You don’t think I’ll get the lead with whatever I pick.” 
It’s not a question. It’s a statement. A dare. The look she gives dares Tashi to say the wrong thing. 
Patrick and Art don’t know what to do. They’d never seen the girls disagree before. They’re always tag-teaming everyone. Tagging in and out of conversations, finishing each other’s quick remarks, cutting people down with sharp looks together. They’d never seen them face off before.
“I know you’d better get the lead.” Tashi shrugs, flipping her hair over and tying it up with a hair tie.
“I’m gonna. Have I ever not?” Heaven sends back. 
Tashi gives her a noncommittal look before snatching up Patrick’s shirt, tossing it into his hands. “Come hit the ball with me.” 
She offers Art one glance. It’s an invitation, very clearly for everyone except Heaven, who was already turned away on the bed, scrolling on her phone again. 
Patrick and Art have their own wide-eyed, silent conversation, finally settling through gestures. ‘You go with that one, I’ll stay with this one, hopefully no one pitches a fit.’
The dorm room door slips shut and the room is quiet aside from the clock ticking on Tashi’s dresser. A few moments pass before Heaven lets out a loud sigh and rolls over, gasping when she sees Art sitting at the desk on his own phone. “What the fuck?”
His eyes widen as he looks at her. “What?”
“I thought you left with Tashi and Patrick.”
He softens as that, offering her a smile. “And leave you by yourself? Nah. Anyway, we’re gonna be playing tennis everyday for the rest of this semester. Let’s go tour my college campus.”
Heaven looks up at the blond man outstretching his hand to her. Part of it is because she’s pissed at Tashi and didn’t wanna be laying here when she got back, but another part of her thought it might be fun to use this as an opportunity to get to know Art more. 
Since she, Patrick and Tashi started hooking up, she’d decided she was satisfied with keeping the set up she had. She had some fun, they dated, and ultimately, there weren’t many requirements. Her focus was just dance now, she wasn’t looking to waste her time on another boyfriend who wouldn’t work out, and going down the exclusive route with Tashi would get…complicated.
But sometimes she thought about Art. She thought about his cute smile and blond hair. She thought about his voice and muscles. And since the match, she thinks about how he played tennis. She could’ve came from watching him play tennis.
A secret she’ll take to the grave, mind you.
But one that led her to walking around campus with him, despite the fact that she and Tashi had agreed she needed to rest her legs before her audition.
Art told her all about the stuff the guide book talked about, showing her the historic buildings, the dorm he now calls home and the dining hall. And somehow, they ended up in the small theater that’s located on the campus.
He smiles, glancing at her, rocking on his feet as they stand outside the building. 
Heaven rolls her eyes playfully, nudging his shoulder. “Huh. I wonder how we ended up here.
“Couldn’t tell you. Definitely didn’t walk you to this…very small theater on purpose.” Art shrugs. “Probably should go in though.” He says breezily, pushing the door open for Heaven to walk through.
As she steps over the threshold, Heaven’s bad mood nearly dissolves. Her tense shoulders relax and her eyes slip closed. Art watches her all but melt into the environment, her pretty features smooth out as she breathes in deeply. “A theater is a theater. I missed this, traveling with Tashi.”
“I’d bet. I’m sure you don’t get much time to dance when you do that.” He says softly, watching her run her hands along the stage.
“Just drills so I don’t get rusty.” She hums. “I’m gonna end up doing Odile. She’s right, it’s a show stopper, guaranteed lead.”
Art sits in the front, center seat, watching as Heaven pushes her way up onto the stage, sitting on the edge. “I’m sure you’d get it no matter what you did. You’re a beautiful dancer.”
Heaven sweeps her hair over her shoulder. “You’ve never seen me dance, Arthur.”
He looks at her with an earnest, almost pleading expression that makes her stomach flip. “Could I? Please?”
“Okay.”
Art hasn’t experienced that much of life yet. He’s young, he’s had the same best friend forever. He went to a boarding school for tennis. He hasn’t traveled the world yet or anything.
But he’s pretty sure he would like to watch Heaven Whitlock dance. 
She was in sweats. Unprepared, with no shoes. Though she denied it, she was clearly nervous that her friend would bust in, see her, and it would start round two of their squabble. But she stretches for a moment before crouching to set up her phone. “Do you know what you wanna see or…”
Art blushes at that, he doesn’t exactly know any ballets. He just wanted to see Heaven in her element. “How about you show me the dance you wanna do.”
There it is. The truth. They both know she’s gonna do the dance Tashi is recommending. But right now she’s not here. And Art wants to see what Heaven would enjoy doing.
“It’s the Esmeralda Variation.” She says, untying her shoelaces before pulling her shoes off altogether. “I need something to kick.”
Art immediately pulls his hat off, tossing it up to her and chuckling as she giggles catching it. One tap on her phone and the muffled music is echoing in the empty theater. 
And she’s moving.
And Art can’t breathe. 
He’s never seen anything like it, like her. The grace. The control she has over her body. He didn’t know people could look like that. He didn’t know balance could be so beautiful. It was like, he didn’t even want to blink. He didn’t want to miss a minute of it.
His eyes tracked her body’s movements with precision, but what they really focused on was her face. He’d never seen perfection like that. Peace like that. This was what Tashi was talking about. This is what she feels with tennis, Heaven has dance. She was in a relationship. With the song. With her body. The floor. The audience. Him. 
Watching Heaven dance felt like witnessing love.
She’s amazing.
The dance was fun, playful, and looked difficult as hell. And she did it with ease.
He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she stopped, sliding down into a final split with a bright smile on her face. “That’s…you’re beautiful. That’s amazing, what you just did.”
Heaven gives him a pleased look that has him feeling warm. She moves to sit on the edge of the stage, letting her legs dangle as she looks at him. Her hands rest on her knees. “Thanks, Art, that means a lot.”
He shifts in his own seat, leaning forward. He pushes up out of the red theater chair and makes his way over to stand in front of her. “I mean it. I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“You’re really good at that, you know.” Heaven says, her voice dropping to a whisper as she looks at him. This is the first time they’ve been face to face before. He’s tall, and imposing despite his accommodating demeanor. She bites her lip and watches his eyes immediately drop before he forces them back to her eyes. “Making people feel good about themselves.”
Art’s startled by the compliment, and immediately starts to laugh it off. Betrayed by the redness of his ears. “You have a gift.” He shrugs. “You should be told you have a gift, all the time.”
He doesn’t know what comes over him. The wave of boldness. It might’ve been that they were alone. Or he was still worked up from what he just witnessed. Or the way Heaven was looking at him, with intensity. Like she saw something. He rests one hand on her leg, feeling smooth skin. And pushes into her space, bringing their faces impossibly closer. Heaven’s big eyes flutter shut as he gets closer, and he smiles.
She wants him to kiss her.
Grabbing his hat from behind her and placing it on his head.
Her eyes open after a beat and she gasps out a laugh, their faces still just a breath apart. “Ha. You’re funny-”
He presses his lips to hers in a brief but deep kiss, pulling away just as she pressed her lips back. “I’m sorry.”
Heaven balls her fist in the front of his shirt, dragging him back to her and making their lips meet again. Their mouths move together in a new dance. Suddenly the room is filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and hums of contentment. Heaven’s hands find their way into Art’s hair as he anchors her waist, pulling her to the very edge of the stage so he can stand between her thighs.
When they pull away their lips cause a loud smack in the dimly lit room. Art’s thumb sweeps over the soft skin of Heaven’s cheek as they both desperately try to catch their breath. Her own hand moves about his curls, smoothing them before sliding to his jaw. Art turns his head to press a kiss to her palm before he speaks.
“Heaven-”
His eyes widen as he sees the girl’s eyes watering, her rose petal lips trembling as she looks at him. Chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths. She runs her hands through her hair with a stressed look that Art thinks he would do anything to remove.
“Please don’t tell Tashi.”
283 notes · View notes
bippot · 9 months
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Summary: The two BAU younglings clearly feel something other than friendship towards each other. Despite how much Morgan and the rest of the team tease them, the dynamic duo progress at their own adorable speed.
Tags: Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Crushes, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Drinking, Awkward Flirting, Touch-Starved, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug
Music Recommendations: One on One Hall and Oates
Criminal Minds, Dr Spencer Reid Masterlist - here
Over the years, Spencer had grown more accustomed to people touching him. He still didn't like it. He still would prefer if he was left untouched. But if someone held their hand out for a handshake, he no longer declined the offer. He did rigorously wash and sanitise his hands after every encounter with a new person, though.
The rest of the team had begun to notice this new, more relaxed Reid.
Coincidentally, this change had occurred a few weeks after a certain Agent Y/N had joined the BAU; a young woman whom Derek had affectionately begun calling 'Peanut' since she had dethroned Reid as the youngest of the squad and had brought a peanut butter sandwich for lunch on her first day.
Together, the two youngsters had become fast friends. The new arrival quickly took a liking to Spencer's quirky personality and was the only person who allowed him to ramble on and on for as long as he wanted, about whatever he wanted, without interrupting or changing any of his train of thought.
Whereas Spencer was particularly fond of the way Y/N always gave him a helping hand socially whenever he needed it. He knew he wasn't the easiest to interact with sometimes, but with Y/N's advice and guidance, he was getting better.
After a particularly disgusting case, the team were on the jet and on their way back to Virginia, and they were all ready for a long weekend. The 'dynamic duo', as they'd become known, sat next to each other, both quiet and absorbed in their own thoughts.
"Hey, look at Pretty Boy over there," Morgan whispered to Prentiss, nudging the arm she was holding her drink in and causing it to splash down her shirt. He snorted but was quick to apologise, "Sorry, we can have a wet t-shirt contest later if you want payback."
Emily brushed her hand down the wet patch as she glanced in the direction of the duo to find Reid pretending to read. His book was firmly in his hands, yes, yet his eyes flitted between the page and the woman beside him, who was busy watching the clouds outside the window. Spencer's eyes were practically hearts behind his glasses as he watched her, his mouth slightly open and his tongue poking between his lips, and he looked utterly fascinated, completely enamoured.
"Oh, that's adorable," she teased, looking sideways and catching Morgan's eye with a knowing smirk.
Y/N finally took her focus off the window, realising she was being stared at by the young brunette. "What?" she questioned curiously, giving Spencer what she hoped was an inquisitive smile. Reid suddenly realised how creepy he must appear staring at her like that, so he tried to pretend that he wasn't doing anything weird but couldn't help smiling an incredibly goofy smile in return.
"You look tired, Y/N."
"That's no way to talk to a lady, Reid," Morgan interrupted, raising an eyebrow with a playful smile playing on his lips. "You still look beautiful, Peanut."
Spencer dipped his head to hide the frown that appeared due to Morgan's comment, and his fingers gripped onto his book a little tighter, which was obviously noticed by the profilers opposite. Even Hotch let out a quiet huff of something that sounded like laughter from where he was sitting, having turned around to see the display.
"I didn't mean it like... I, uh, I just..." Spencer trailed off, trying to come up with something to say. He looked across to gauge Y/N's reaction in the hopes she'd help him out and not embarrass him further.
Instead, he found himself looking straight into her bright eyes, which had crinkled at the corners as she giggled at him. Her hand made its way to his thigh and gently squeezed in an effort to comfort the confused boy, who had seemed to turn into a blushing, flustered mess in front of her, and her smile grew impossibly bigger at his bashfulness.
"I've been called worse, doctor. Don't sweat it."
With that, she went back to watching the passing scenery, while Spencer and Derek stared at each other, having a conversation with only their facial expressions. It didn't take a genius to figure out what Morgan was trying to urge Reid to do. It seemed that Reid was reluctant to go through with it. He looked across at Y/N and bit his lip nervously before shaking his head.
For the next hour or two, they all tried to get some shut eye, some more successful in their attempts than others.
Prentiss was snoozing with her cheek squished against the glass.
Hotch had spread himself out and had a sleep mask on, so who knows if he was truly sleeping or not?
JJ had fallen asleep a couple of minutes into the plane ride - she'd called Henry, and then, boom, out like a light.
Rossi had brought along a neck pillow and draped it around his head, apparently content to sleep away the remainder of the flight with the occasional snore escaping his slightly opened mouth.
Derek, well, he had his eyes closed but he had yet to drift off. He was too busy listening to the dynamic duo as they were in the throes of a passionate conversation, both of them leaning forward intently towards one another, their heads close together, and their voices hushed.
"I don't know what to tell you, Spencer, but I know - with one hundred percent certainty - that I'd prefer to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer over Star Trek any day."
"You've got to be kidding me?" Reid said, almost shocked that she could ever consider such a thing. "Star Trek has endured for over fifty years. It transcends generations, and it's still going strong!"
"Yeah, well, have you even watched Buffy?"
"No." Spencer narrowed his eyes. "Have you ever seen Star Trek?"
"No."
He opened his mouth and seemed as if he was about to continue, but gave up with a laugh and shook his head in amusement. Y/N grinned at him and shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly as if she were assuring him that this argument meant nothing and it was just for fun.
"If you wanted to, and I, uh, u-understand if not, I'd be willing to endure a Buffy marathon with you. Any time."
His voice faltered slightly, and for a moment, it was like he had forgotten how to breathe. It felt like his heart stopped beating momentarily. For a second, he could feel his stomach churning uncomfortably, but the sensation vanished quickly and Y/N nodded her head in reply, unable to contain her grin at his response.
"You can try and turn me into a Trekkie if you'd like."
"Oh! Okay, yeah, I'd like to. W-we can arrange that. We can sort that out."
They soon settled down enough to fall asleep, heads resting against each other's and failed to notice Morgan whisper, "My man," under his breath. He peeked out of one eye to catch a glimpse of the good doctor and his soon-to-be sweetheart. Prentiss was right, he thought, they were adorable. And Derek had half a mind to take a picture and send it to Garcia.
After that, it was impossible not to notice how comfortable Spencer had gotten while interacting with Y/N in every way. The team was unsure whether the pair had actually gotten together yet, but they knew it was only a matter of time. The boy wonder often rambled about how they went to the library, the cinema, or had those TV watchalongs.
And it seemed that the pair were so close that they'd developed their own sort of language, even if they were unaware of its existence.
"Hey Spock," Y/N greeted as she entered Morgan's hotel room where they'd been going over the case after hours, her hands coming down on his shoulders to gently massage them. He'd positioned himself right on the edge of the bed, so Y/N took the opportunity to kneel behind him and rest her chin on his shoulder.
On this particular case, Reid had to read through thousands of pages of a psychopath's very descriptive diary, which was filled with gruesome descriptions and diagrams of torture. The rest of the squad had gone to dinner, yet Spencer had waved them off. They knew there was only one person who had a chance at changing his mind.
"Take a break?" But instead of stopping like she asked him to, he continued reading until she pulled the book out of his hands. "...Please."
"Fine," he replied with a sigh. "The unsub-"
"A total break. No work talk."
"But -" She gave him a look, one that was stern but soft at the same time, and he gave in.
As she went to pull away, she noticed that his hair was a complete mess. "Did you brush your hair today? Or at any point this week?" she teased while she reached up to brush through his thick locks with careful fingers, untangling the knots she spotted with ease.
"We were called out pretty early this morning, Y/N," he reminded her with a playful inflection in his voice.
He tried to say something else, but it died in his throat as her fingers worked through his hair, massaging his scalp in such a way that he was turning to mush in her hands. His body relaxed, and his head lolled back against her palm. When she finished detangling his hair, she continued to further relax him with her touch until he let out a borderline embarrassing whine.
"Ah! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make that noise," he told her, sitting bolt upright in embarrassment. His ears were bright red as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as if he could somehow rub away the blush that had appeared on his face.
Frankly, Y/N was proud that she could pull a noise like that from him. There was no doubting that it would be imprinted on her brain forever since it was so cute. She grinned in triumph while she tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear. "No need to apologise, Spence."
To show how little of an apology she needed, she resumed working her fingers through his hair again, this time more forcefully and with a little more pressure, causing Reid to once again moan softly at her pleasurable treatment. They stayed like that for a while, neither really caring that much about how fast the time was flying by.
Just as another noise fell from Reid's lips, Morgan reentered his hotel room and stood there for a few seconds in stunned silence when his eyes landed on the embrace his two friends were sharing on his bed.
"Well, well, well," he started, making them jump out of their skin. "I'd prefer it if you use your own room to canoodle, kids."
Their faces flushed as they scrambled apart from each other as though they had been caught doing something forbidden. "Uh... we weren't… we... we...uh..." Reid stuttered incoherently, completely failing to find the words to explain themselves without sounding like an absolute idiot.
"Pretty Boy, I'm just teasing you," Morgan told him, holding his hands up in surrender as he walked closer to the bed, his gaze shifting between Spencer and Y/N. "Although, I'm planning to get at least two hours of sleep, either you guys leave or you give me the keys to your room, your choice."
Looking at each other out of the corner of their eyes, the pair made a silent agreement and shuffled out of Morgan's room quietly. As soon as they were in the hallway outside, both of them burst out laughing, both at the awkwardness of their situation and at how they were probably going to endure even more teasing.
They began to slowly walk in the direction of their rooms, both of them swinging their hands and almost knocking them into each other with every step they took. Their laughter faded away and was replaced with nervous smiles, the awkwardness still lingering in the air. It was only when they neared Y/N's door that one of them spoke up.
"Are you hungry? We both skipped out on lunch earlier, so..." The brunette asked suddenly, looking down at her with hopeful eyes.
"You want to go and grab food?"
"Maybe we could order to the hotel? I haven't eaten anything all day except for breakfast."
"Has anyone ever told you you're a genius?"
"Funny enough, they have."
Soon enough, they were huddled on Y/N's bed, surrounded by Chinese takeaway boxes, and watching cable TV as they ate, talking animatedly as they enjoyed each other's company. By the time they'd finished their meal, they hadn't managed to wipe the grins off of their faces once. And neither of them was willing to move an inch from their spot. They were too cosy, too warm, and too full from eating, so as the night turned into morning, the pair were once again side by side as they drifted off.
From that mission on, whenever Reid needed calming down, Y/N knew exactly what to do. And after getting used to it, Spencer began to ask beforehand. Not vocally, no. Whenever he wanted her to play with his hair, he'd simply and subtly tap her thigh, which was his way to silently plead for the girl to pet him.
Obviously, their coworkers had witnessed many strange things over their years as profilers, but none of them expected to ever see the touch-phobic Dr Reid urge someone to initiate physical contact with him. It was a rather shocking revelation for everyone who knew him.
It all came to a head one evening when the squad convinced Reid to join them for one of their after-work bar nights. Morgan had heavily stressed the fact that Y/N would be there and she would want to see him, and as much as the doctor didn't particularly enjoy these nights out, he was swayed by the suggestion anyway.
The only problem was that Y/N had caught the attention of the recently hired bartender there, who proceeded to flirt with her nonstop. Reid, due to his lingering second thoughts about the outing, was last to arrive and, as soon as he walked through the door, was already regretting his decision.
"Doctor, you're late," JJ teased, nudging him with her shoulder and gesturing towards the bar. "It looks like Y/N's still ordering our round if you want to go and add yours onto the tab. Rossi is paying, so go wild."
"Have you ever known me to 'go wild', JJ?" Reid asked dryly as he headed in the direction of the bar.
"Tonight could be your night. You never know, Spence."
That sentiment rang through Reid's head as he approached the other half of his duo. Y/N was smiling but as he got closer, Spencer noticed a certain fakeness to it, almost as if the girl was forcing it. A bolt of something sweet went straight to that big brain of his as he realised she never looked at him like that. All of her smiles had been genuine when they'd been directed at him. And that was proved when Y/N caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye and broke out into a real, goofy grin that caused him to do the same.
"I was wondering if you were ever going to turn up," she greeted him cheerfully, holding her hand out for him to hold. He took it, and to his delight, she pulled him in for a hug.
She was a little wobbly and a lot more giggly than usual so it was obvious she'd had a few drinks. Judging by the glare he was getting from the bartender, Spencer assumed she'd got those drinks for free as a way to sway her affections. There was a flush to her cheeks as she looked up at him, and his heart skipped a beat when he caught a glimmer of something in her eyes.
"Do you want a drink, doctor?" she asked playfully, tilting her head to the side and giving him a coy look. "They do mocktails if you'd like something fancy."
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll take a mocktail."
"I'll get them," Y/N volunteered, squeezing his hand before releasing it and waving the bartender over. The guy was quick to try flirting with her again despite the fact that Spencer was right there and still had his arm wrapped around her.
Did the bartender not see him as a romantic threat? How was that possible when he was literally the one who was closer to her in every sense of the word? Was it so unlikely? Reid's brain was working overtime, desperately trying to come up with a solution to this issue as he stood there, helpless, watching the bartender make a very flamboyant and fruity-looking mocktail.
"Are you wearing a new cologne, Doctor?" Y/N questioned, a hint of flirtiness in her tone. It was just enough to cause Spencer to very loudly gulp and avert his gaze. Accidentally, he looked directly at Morgan, who gave him (what Derek intended to be) an encouraging wink. Whether it was, was another thing.
"Uh, y-yes," Reid managed to squeak out, before mentally kicking himself for being so obvious.
"It smells nice. You smell nice."
"I do?"
"You do."
Before Reid could thank her, the bartender placed the drink right between them and that disturbed any response he would eventually mumble out. Instead, he hurried to take a sip as an excuse to not say anything other than a hum of approval. It was delicious - he had to admit that. Maybe he should branch out from extremely sweet coffee once and a while.
Throughout the night, Reid stayed glued to his friend's side and did his best to ignore the knowing looks the other members of the squad were giving him. Y/N kept him on his toes with the amount of times she caused a blush to appear and his IQ to drop by twenty each time she made a playful comment.
By the time they left the bar, he was a total mess. And although Y/N had only been a little tipsy - it seemed that she only needed a little bit of liquid confidence to act upon her feelings - he was determined to make sure she got home.
Working a job that constantly forced him to see the worst of humanity, well, he had an obligation to ensure nothing bad happened. Safety first, after all.
Getting more time to hang out with her was a close second, though.
The pair made it back to Y/N's apartment in no time. It was a relatively short walk, and the streets were quiet at that late hour. The night air was warm and humid and the moon was full, giving their journey an ethereal glow. Neither of them said much. They didn't need to. There was no need to break the comfortable silence as they made their way closer to her door.
Spencer let Y/N lead them up to her apartment door. He even allowed her to hide behind him when one of her drunk neighbours stumbled into the elevator they were in because she didn’t want to interact with him. She stood behind him, her hands on his hips and her forehead resting against the back of his shoulder.
It was only when the drunkard - who'd not paid attention to Spencer at all - left that Y/N came out from hiding. "Sorry, Spock. Last time, he spoke to me about buying a timeshare for a full hour and I couldn't go through that again," she apologised sheepishly.
"I hide to avoid talking to my neighbour almost every day. It's a small price to pay for peace and quiet."
"That doesn't surprise me."
Once they were inside her apartment, Y/N immediately flopped face down on her couch. Spencer plopped down beside her feet and, without prompting, untied her laces and slipped her shoes off. He then did the same with his shoes, leaning back and getting comfortable.
"You're so sweet to me, Spock," Y/N muttered, lifting her face from the pillow she'd squished herself into to look at him. What she was greeted with was adorable. Reid had his hands intertwined behind his head, sitting criss-cross applesauce with his eyes closed.
Because of how he looked and how sweet he was, Y/N got to her knees and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. His eyes snapped open and his jaw dropped so he was gaping at her, blinking slowly.
"W-what was that for?"
"For being you."
"Oh. Okay." He tried to hide his confusion, but the look on his face was priceless. For all his intellect, he couldn't work out what the hell she meant.
So, to give him a helping hand, she gently placed her hooked forefinger under his chin and tilted his head up so he'd meet her eye.
"For making me happy," she whispered, pressing her lips to his in such a way that Reid was so startled by her display of affection that he forgot to respond for a moment until his hands came up to either side of her face and deepened the kiss.
That was all it took to send him plummeting into the depths of lust-induced oblivion. Spencer was acting purely on impulse as he pushed Y/N down on the couch and pressed his body into hers, trapping her underneath him with his knee between her legs.
Breaking apart, he let out a breath and leaned his forehead against hers. "Morgan is going to be so smug," Reid joked, "When he finds out I kissed you."
"You kissed me?" Y/N repeated jovially, winding her arms around his neck. "Is your memory different to mine, Mr Eidetic?"
"I'll just tell him about our second kiss."
Before she registered how smooth that had been, Spencer's lips were back on hers. He was eager and hungry and intent on making her dizzy. He held nothing back, and neither did she. Their lips collided in a storm of moans and groans, tongues tangling and fingers clutching at each other. Reid moved away for a moment to take off his tie and undo the first few buttons of his shirt.
"It's getting a little warm in here," he muttered, finally realising his skin was on fire thanks to her touch.
With this new stretch of skin uncovered, Y/N couldn't help herself and attached her lips to his newly uncovered collarbone, kissing up his neck to his ear and biting down gently on the lobe. He made a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a whimper, and he let his head fall back so he was looking at the ceiling.
Her fingers toyed with the remaining buttons of his shirt, teasing them open to get access to the skin underneath. Reid kept his eyes closed as she continued her exploration, enthralled by the attention she lavished upon him. Eventually, she was able to slide the fully opened shirt off his shoulders and ran her palms down his sides until she reached his belt.
"Spence? Do you want to continue?" Y/N asked, her voice breathless yet understanding. He beamed at her with eyes as wide as a bush baby. Reid could barely form a coherent thought, but clearly still held some grasp of his gentlemanly nature.
"Let me take you on a date first. Please? There's a few showings of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari at the Palace this month. I've been trying to gather the courage to ask you for seven months, eighteen days and -" He checked his watch. "Ten hours and thirty three minutes."
"You're adorable, Doctor Reid." She nudged the tip of her nose against his, and let her hand trail up to rest in his head, her thumb drawing soothing lines against his pink cheek. "I'd love to."
Their glee was evident. It was palpable. Spencer placed his hand on her thigh, just as he'd become so accustomed to over the months, and expected her usual response. Yet, when Y/N tangled her fingers in his hair and lightly tugged his chin up, her eyes focused on his lips, he wasn't disappointed with the change of routine. Quite the opposite.
"Do I have to wait until our date to kiss you again or am I allowed to do it now?" She coquetted, raising and wiggling her eyebrows in a teasing manner.
His response was instant. "Now!" He cleared his throat, afraid that he'd been too eager. "I mean, now if you want. Yeah, uh...now." She peppered his cheeks with sloppy, wet kisses until he was breathless and desperate for a proper smooch. It didn't take long before he was guiding her into position to get what he wanted.
It was safe to assume that their very intelligent, very observant colleagues were going to be difficult to hide from. Especially when, in all the excitement, Spencer left a hickey on Y/N's collarbone. One that was just a few centimetres too big to be hidden by her work shirt.
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crispy-armpit · 22 days
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2k follower special <3!!!
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THANK YOU SO SO MUCH TO MY BEAUTIFUL 2,000+ FOLLOWERS!!
even though I have bouts of inactivity and a lot of inconsistency in my work, I am so thankful for all your support and love <3 as a thank you, have a short 2k special featuring my most popular boys, Liam & Deimos!
may be suggestive at the start;;; and big poly vibes
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"you're doing so good taking us both, songbird... aren't they, pretty boy?", Deimos purrs.
Liam gives a whiny response, "fuck... where'd you learn to move like that, y/n? you didn't even give me a chance to finish you!"
your hands grip further into the controller in your hands, a minor migraine beginning to form, "please refrain from using dirty words while I'm kicking both of your asses in Tekken."
you feel the sofa where the three of you were lying down shifting from both sides, as you had been seated in between both men.
on the left, Deimos who was leaning himself on your shoulder shifted his head on your lap. his nose and lips snuggling themselves into the lower region of your torso. he sighs, "just let poor Lili win at least once, songbird... it's late and I need you in the bedroom as my favourite body pillow."
on the right, Liam had left the comfort of the sofa and moved to the floor, sitting right next to your legs. with his most pathetic puppy eyes, he begs while hugging your right leg, "pleaseee baby, let me win!! I need at least one win so I can go to bed in peace tonight..."
"no. both of you need to leave right now, go to bed!"
this was another one of their tactics to get you to sleep with them (you have a terrible sleep schedule). which isn't a bad thing, you love sleeping in between them.
but most of the time, it really really sucks- like in a suffocating way. by that you mean sandwiched between two pairs of defined and humongous man tits type of suffocating. and they always have you cornered or have their hands on you all night, so there's absolutely zero chance of you getting away from their tight grasp. it's as if their bodies are trying to fuse us together.
this was your way of saving yourself. by going to sleep later than them, they would be forced to lay next to each other instead, therefore giving you a fresh supply of oxygen through the night!
..... which is what you had planned in mind. but fate and two overly clingy adult men had other plans by accompanying you until you finally succumbed to sleep.
"look, I still need to finish the story mode, so you guys just go ahead first- AAAH!!"
Deimos picks your body up over his shoulder with ease, "ain't no way we're leaving you, I need my pillow."
Liam looks at you with a pitiful smile, "and I need my baby next to me."
"nooo... why won't you two just snuggle each other instead? you guys always suffocate me in your sleep", you complain.
"cause you're you. and we like it better when you're with us."
Deimos bellows as he opens the door to your shared bedroom, "yeah right! ya just need y/n to rub one out at night!"
"don't act so holy either, Deimos." Liam glares at him from behind.
lord, please save me from these idiots...
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munson-blurbs · 7 months
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Hi <3 for your trope-or-treat, how about dum-dum and butterfinger with Eddie, aka my favorite dum-dum
Idiots in love/Shy!Reader/Eddie Munson
A little offended that I'm not your favorite dum-dum, but it's fine.
Warnings: fluff, a bit of suggestive language
WC: 728
Divider credit to @saradika
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Eddie can’t stop staring. 
It’s not on purpose; really, it’s all Mrs. Byrd’s fault. She had insisted on handing out candy after a pop quiz, calling it a ‘treat after a trick.’ You could’ve picked one of the fun-size chocolate bars like Eddie had, but no. 
You’d chosen a lollipop. 
The same goddamn lollipop that you’re currently twirling around your mouth, occasionally pulling from between your lips with a soft pop. You’re talking with Lucas, nodding sympathetically while he laments about having to take his sister trick-or-treating tonight. 
“What about you?” Lucas asks, taking a bite of his turkey sandwich. “Any fun Halloween plans?”
You shrug. “Eddie and I are gonna watch some scary movies once he’s done at the party.” Tina’s annual Halloween party is the perfect place for him to sell, but he never sticks around to hang out with people. 
“Really setting the mood,” Jeff teases Eddie, earning him an elbow to the ribs. 
You’re used to their jokes—calling you and Eddie ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad,’ saying that you two bicker like an old married couple, humming Here Comes the Bride whenever you walk into Hellfire. But it wears on you, especially given your ridiculous crush on him. 
You can’t stop thinking about Jeff’s off-handed comment, even when Eddie breezes through your doorway. He’s got a VHS copy of The Amityville Horror in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other. 
“You ready to hang out with Jody?” He punctuates his statement with his signature devil horns gesture, tossing a bag of Gummi bears in your direction before popping the movie in the TV. As the opening credits begin, he flops onto the couch and, incidentally, your lap.
“Get up!” you grunt, laughing as you try to push him off of you. “You’re squishing me!”
Eddie pouts and remains in place. “But how else am I gonna protect you from the Satanic influences?” He drops his register an octave to match his Dungeon Master voice.
“You are the Satanic influence!”
“Fair enough.” But, still, he doesn’t move; instead, he looks up at you and wistfully remarks, “you still look beautiful when you’re upside down.”
You wrinkle your nose, feeling your body heat up at his unexpected compliment. “Did you drink at Tina’s party?”
“Not a drop.” 
Given the lack of alcohol on his breath, you’re obliged to believe him. “Then stop being an idiot.”
“I’m…I’m not.” Confusion creases his brows, and he finally sits up. He situates himself next to you, bringing your legs over his thighs and forcing himself to look into your eyes. “Okay, I’m gonna do this, and I’m sorry if it fucks everything up, but…I have, like, this big, stupid crush on you? And I don’t know what to do about it except tell you, because I feel like I get weird around you, a-and I don’t want you to think that I don’t like you. Because it’s the opposite, y’know, like I really like you–”
“Eddie.” You interrupt him gently, allowing yourself to play with a lock of his hair. “Eddie, I like you, too. I didn’t think you felt the same way.”
He exhales, visibly relieved that his confession didn’t end in humiliation. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship or anything, but Jeff told me that if I didn’t tell you soon, he was gonna kick my ass.” He chuckles, shaking his head, curls dancing in front of his face. “Can I kiss you? I-Is that okay?”
You answer for him, gathering all of your courage to press your lips to his. He adjusts you so you’re straddling his waist, His hand is on the back of your head, bringing you impossibly close to deepen the kiss.“Shit,” he mutters, abruptly pulling away, “I promised myself I’d take you on a date before we, y’know, do stuff.” His cheeks go red, his cheek pinched between his teeth. 
You glance over at the movie playing on the TV, then back to him. “Does this count as a date?”
“It can if you want it to.” Eddie’s fingers brush against your arm, the slight touch sending shivers throughout your body. “Do you? Want it to count as a date, I mean?
“Yes, please.” 
His lips are back on yours as soon as you finish affirming what he already knew, grateful that he won’t have to hold back any longer.
--
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zepskies · 2 months
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The Miracle Man
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Pairing: Boaz Priestly x F. Reader
Summary: The first time you met Priestly was both the worst and best night of your life. He gave you a Miracle.
AN: Here’s the prequel to Code Red! (But this can also be read as stand alone.) I hope you enjoy. And just a note, remember this was circa 2007, still the era of flip phones and iPods, despite the advent of the iPhone.
Word Count: 3,500
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for mature talk. A kind of meet cute, insecurities, angst, breakups, hurt/comfort, sandwiches, fluff and feels.
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He was a lone ranger in the Wild West. His weapon of choice?
A dirty mop.
Priestly bopped his head to the music playing from his earbuds. His iPod was tucked in his right jean pocket while he speared the mop across the floor of the sandwich shop. It was three minutes to closing time on a Saturday night, and it was his turn to clean up and lock up.
He was looking forward to getting home, taking a shower, and diving face-first into his bed. But first, he just needed to kill three minutes.
Come on, come on, come oooon, he sang in his mind as the hands on his watch ticked on. While glancing down at said watch, he remembered it had been a gift from Tish for his birthday…
Three months ago. When they were still together.
Priestly heaved a sigh. What were you supposed to do with gifts from your ex that you actually liked? The gifts that made it into your everyday life, not just because they were from the person you thought you loved, but because it was actually hella practical and a nice accessory to keep on your person?
It’s just a damn watch. Don’t make it a big deal, he reminded himself. What was he supposed to do, have a ritual burning of everything Tish had ever touched?
That would take all damn night. And he definitely drew a line at his dick.
“Hello?”
The front door of the shop opened, the little bell Trucker installed chiming with too much cheer and startling Priestly out of his thoughts.
“We’re closed,” he said. But that was before he looked up, and had to pause in his mopping.
You were standing there, holding yourself in the open doorway with the cold breeze hitting your back. You were wearing a red cocktail dress and the highest black heels he’d ever seen, with your styled hair falling around your shoulders.
You were entirely too beautiful to be in this old sandwich shop, he thought. It had Priestly swallowing, frozen in time.
“Really? The sign says 10,” you pointed out. There was a level of desperation in your eyes. “Please, you’re the only place with the lights still on and I’ve been all up and down the block.” 
Blinking out of his idiotic state, Priestly looked down at his watch again. It was exactly 9:59 p.m.
Well, damn. Got me on a technicality.
He held in a sigh.
“Okay, come on in,” he waved you over. Setting down his mop, he rounded the counter and went to man the register. He gave you a minute to peruse the menu. He noted that aside from your stunning attire, you had a cell phone in your hand that clearly couldn’t fit in that little purse hanging off your shoulder, bumping along your hip.
He couldn’t help but visually trace the curves of your hips and waist, back up to the sweetheart neckline of the dress, the deeper shade of your lipstick and up to your face.
But then he felt bad for staring, so he looked up heavenward before you caught him.
Meanwhile, your eyes drifted from the menu and dipped to his chest for a moment.
“Too bad I’m not gay,” you said.
What? Priestly frowned in confusion. But following your gaze, he realized you were staring at his yellow shirt, which read in big, 70s-style letters: Be Gay & Proud, Get a Free Drink.
His lips twitched at a grin, and he looked up at you. “D’you know what you want?”
You had a smile starting to play on your lips as well. You went back to considering your choices.
“Not sure, but I’m starving. What do you recommend?” you asked.
Priestly’s lips puckered as he considered the menu he knew by heart.
“Well, if you wanna go classic, I’d do a Spicy Italian on white bread. If you wanna be adventurous, we just added the Jalapeño Buffalo Chicken Club," he said. "But, if you wanna get crazy awesome, I can put on some Zeppelin and make you something special of my own design.”
He colored that last option with a gesture of his hand, a flourish, if you will. You tilted your head at him and smiled.
“Okay. Surprise me, Sandwich Man.”
Priestly snorted while he washed his hands again. “Sounds like the lamest superhero ever.”
“With his death-defying salami summoning powers,” you quipped, with a giggle that had him smiling as well.
“Nice alliteration,” he said. And he made a show of tying his apron back on. “Don’t worry, ma’am. Your late-night hoagie is safe with me.”
You tried to stifle another laugh while he worked his magic. From bread to meats and cheeses and toppings, Priestly was a master of his craft. He had that 12” hero wrapped and sliding across the counter towards you in record time.
“I call this the ‘Miracle,’” he winked. “You’ll see why. But that’ll be $10 even.”
You nodded and turned to the purse on your hip. You opened up the little velvety thing, but your face fell when all you found was your keys, not your credit card.
“No.” Your heart dropped into your stomach. You opened your purse wider and flipped through the satin insides, but you saw that it was empty. “You’ve gotta be shitting me. I know I had my wallet in here…”
And then it dawned on you.
“That fucking asshole,” you growled.
Priestly’s eyes widened. “Uh…”
Your head snapped up to his. “I had a different purse picked out for tonight. You know, one that actually had my wallet in it? But my know-it-all boyfriend had the nerve to say, ‘That one’s too shiny, looks kinda cheap. This is a restaurant at the Ritz-Carlton, not a hooker hangout.’ Can you believe that?”
Priestly blinked in confusion, but he realized that in your purse shuffling, you had no way to pay for this amazing sandwich he’d just concocted.
And now, you actually had the beginnings of frustrated tears in your eyes as you took in a shuddering breath.
“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I can’t—I can’t pay for this. I don’t have my wallet… Hold on, let me see if he’ll…”
You held up a finger and started dialing manically on your phone. You held it up to your ear and waited. Your tears sprang forth anew when the line just kept ringing until it sent you to voicemail. 
“Figures,” you scoffed. “The one time I actually need this douchebag to answer, he ignores me!”
You slammed the phone down on the counter and covered your face with your hand as you sniffled. Priestly softened with sympathy. You seemed to be having a harder night than he thought.
He slid the sandwich your way, making you raise your head.
“It’s okay. This one’s on the house,” he said. “Looks like you could use a pick-me-up.”
Your watery eyes met his. “Really? You don’t have to…”
“No worries,” he replied, giving you a bit of charm in his grin. “I’ll even throw in a soda. Lady’s choice.”
Your lower lip trembled, but you were able to smile. With a quiet thank you, you wiped under your eyes carefully so your mascara wouldn’t run. Then you grabbed a Coke from the machine along with your sandwich from the counter.
“Do you mind if I eat here?” you asked, gesturing at one of the tables. “I promise I won’t leave a mess. I know you’re trying to close up.”
Priestly waved a dismissive hand. “Sure. Don’t worry about it.”
He went around the counter to take up his mop and continue where he left off in the cleaning process. But he couldn’t help but eye you every now and then. Curiosity was starting to eat him alive.
Had your boyfriend just dumped you here? Had you gone off alone? Somehow, he couldn’t see the first option happening. If you were his girlfriend, he would do his best not to let you walk away angry at him, let alone this late at night, without any money or even your ID.
“Are you coming from a party or something?” he found himself asking. You looked up from your second bite of the sandwich. You’d looked to have been truly enjoying it, uttering a moan that’d caught his attention.
“No,” you chuckled humorlessly around a mouthful of bread. “I was supposed to meet his parents. His rich, very bougie, hyper-critical parents. Somehow it didn’t occur to me that he was just like them.”
Priestly paused and leaned on his mop. He was hesitant, not wanting to disturb you while you were eating, but he was too damn hooked.
“So…what happened?” he asked. You scoffed and took another massive bite of your sandwich.
“Okay, you want to hear this? Fine,” you began. “So, I’m a stress eater by nature. Let’s just start with that.”
“Who isn’t?” Priestly supplied. Pursing your lips, you raised a black olive at him in a thank you gesture.
“But when I tell you I spent three months depriving myself to fit into this dress. No carbs, cheese, chocolate, or happiness.”
He grimaced. “That’s no way to live.”
“Exactly!” you concurred. “But I did all that so my boyfriend would have nothing to say when I finally met his parents for this dinner—to celebrate him graduating from med school.”
Priestly found himself dimming inside. Not only were you spoken for, but you were with a future doctor, no less. The only title Priestly had to his name was Sandwich Man.
“It started with the purse thing when he picked me up. Then when we get there, he keeps telling me how stuffy his dad is and how judge-y and critical his mom can be and how I’m a reflection on him,” you mocked in an impression of his voice.
“Then I find myself second-guessing every word that might come out of my mouth, and I’m too nervous to even eat the $60 plate of Chilean sea bass in front of me, and not to mention, there’s a glass of wine in my hand. I don’t even like wine!”
By now, it was all Priestly could do to keep up with your verbal spitfire. You were also gesticulating wildly with your sandwich the more worked up you got.
“I mean, I’m saying things I don’t say, and suddenly I realize that I’ve wrapped myself up in so many knots for this man, I don’t even recognize myself,” you confessed. Your eyes lit up with a gleam of clarity. Your hands lowered down to the table, and after a beat, you continued eating.
“But then my boyfriend of over a year turns to me and says, ‘Why are you being so weird and frigid?’” you said. You met Priestly’s eyes. “I just, I got so mad. I wanted to choke him out with my napkin, you know?”
He bit his lip to stifle a laugh.
“So instead of violence, I grabbed the glass of pinot noir, or chardon-perignon-whatever-the-fuck, and I poured it in his lap,” you concluded. “Then I walked out. And I ignored his calls. And I kept walking. Then a nice guy made me a sandwich.”
Priestly had to smile at that. He knew there was a Ritz-Carlton in the area, but that had to be almost a mile down the street. You’d walked a long way in those crazy-ass heels.
He propped his mop against a nearby table and sat down across from you. He shook his head in wonderment. And inside, your words kind of rattled him.
I’ve wrapped myself up in so many knots, I don’t even recognize myself.
“You know, sometimes I really, really wish I was gay,” you said, gesturing at his shirt.
“O-Oh…really?” he asked, raising his brows.
“Yeah, I do,” you answered. “I’m a quick study. I could learn to eat pussy.”
If he had been drinking something, he would’ve spat it out. He mentally fumbled for a moment before he could articulate a response.
“Well, I don’t doubt you, but it can be an acquired taste. Though I happen to like it,” he replied, grinning mostly to himself. He didn’t even think about how it might come out though.
As soon as he realized what he was saying to a perfect stranger, his eyes widened and met yours.
"Uh, sorry," he said.
But you just chortled in amusement. Your blush intensified though, along with your smile as you took a sip of your soda.
“You’re uh…you’re pretty awesome,” he said. And he meant that.
You blinked in surprise. Your lips twitched upwards, a blush rosy in your cheeks.
“Yeah?” you asked. His smile deepened.
“Yeah,” he replied. “And for the record, I know I just met you, but…I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Your face softened with a certain shyness, but you smiled at him through your lashes.
“Well, I appreciate that…” you trailed, realizing you didn’t yet know his name.
“Priestly,” he offered, along with his hand across the table. You slipped your smaller hand in his and gave him your name.
Though you quirked a brow at him. “Priestly? That’s your first name?”
Now it was his turn to get a little embarrassed.
“Uh, no,” he said, his gaze falling from yours. He scratched the back of his head, under the blue mohawk.
“Oh. What is it, then?” you asked.
“You don’t want to know,” he chuckled wryly.
“I think I do, or I wouldn’t be asking,” you countered. Your smile was playful though. Disarming, even.
“It’s um, it’s Boaz,” he admitted. You tilted your head, as if swirling the name around in your head. But you didn’t say it was weird, or stupid, or too biblical. You just smiled.
“Boaz Priestly. Interesting,” you nodded. Then you wrapped up your garbage, having eaten all of your sandwich. You made sure to collect every crumb, even though he’d told you not to worry about the mess. You got up to take it to the trashcan near the door.
“How’re you getting home?” he asked.
You bit your lip. The anxiety in your eyes told him you’d been pondering that same question. You let out a deep breath.
“I guess I’ll have to walk back to the hotel, try to get a ride from my b…my ex-boyfriend. Gotta get used to saying that,” you said. “I promise I’ll pay you back for the sandwich.”
“Didn’t I tell you it was on me? Don’t worry about that,” said Priestly. “But I’ll tell you what, let me give you a ride.”
You shook your head. “Oh, thank you, but we just met, and I—”
Just then, Priestly realized how his offer sounded. He didn’t want to creep you out.
“Ah, or I can get you a cab,” he said. “I doubt you want to see that guy again tonight, do you?”
You bit your lip, smudging some of the scarlet red lipstick there. It distracted him for a moment, but he returned his gaze to your eyes.
You sighed. As much as you didn’t want to impose again, you let Priestly call you a cab. He paid for it in advance after you gave the cabbie your address. Before you got in the car, you turned to Priestly and touched his arm.
“Thank you,” you said. “I promise, I’ll come tomorrow and pay you back.”
He smiled. “You can try.”
He earned your sweet smile back, and he watched you get into the cab. He tried not to raise his hopes up, but he really did hope he’d see you tomorrow.
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And yet, he should’ve known it was too good to be true.
“Maybe she got caught up at work or something,” Jen tried to console him the next day at closing, after you didn’t show up.
“It’s Sunday,” he pointed out grumpily. He continued to wipe down Table 4 of some nasty residue of mayo and pickled radish.
“You don’t know what kind of job she has,” Piper interjected. She was making a tuna salad sub on wheat for the last customer, which she then passed on to Tish at the register. “Maybe she’s in retail, or she’s in the restaurant business too—or hey, a lifeguard! This is a beach town after all.”
“Or maybe, she just played you into getting free food and a ride home,” Tish suggested, with her usual brand of cutting sarcasm. It just tended to cut a bit deeper these days, whenever it was leveled at Priestly.
The post-breakup thing had been tense and awkward for everyone, and it still hadn’t normalized just yet in their little sandwich-making ecosystem. Jen shot her friend a look though, one that told her she was being bitchy.
The problem was, she’d only voiced what Priestly was thinking anyway, deep down.
“Amazing, serendipitous things don’t happen to me, Piper,” he said. “Not anymore.” 
He continued cleaning.
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Three weeks later, it happened on a Friday afternoon.
It was one of their busiest times of the week. Tish was at the register as usual, Jen was sorting through the inventory and bussing tables, and Priestly was making hero after hero like a fiend, alongside Piper. He was definitely living up to his name of Sandwich Man.
He was still able to recognize your voice near the register.
“One 12” Miracle, please,” you requested.
“Um…we don’t have that on the menu,” Tish replied. But Priestly looked over with a grin. He met your gaze, and found you smiling back at him.
Tish followed the exchange with suspicion.
“One Miracle, coming up!” Priestly called out.
He had the order ready within minutes, but he was painstaking about it, not an olive out of place. He wrapped it up nicely and walked it over to the register himself, placing it in front of you on the counter.
“Well, hi there,” he greeted.
A familiar blush spread across your face, just as endearing as he remembered. The only thing different about you so far was your clothes. No longer dressed to the nines, you were more casual in your jeans, ankle boots, and V-necked top.
In every other way, you were the same. It might’ve been making his heart trip up.
“Hi,” you said. “Got a minute, Miracle Man?”
Priestly ducked his head, hiding a more bashful smile. Before he could respond, Tish interrupted, “That’ll be $10.”
You nodded and handed her a $50 bill. She looked at you in confusion.
“The rest is a tip, for the hero makers,” you explained, glancing at both Priestly and Piper. He gave you an incredulous smile.
You little minx, he thought. He couldn’t say no if you were tipping Piper too.
But he did ask Jen to help fill in for him while he made his way around the counter to go to you. Tish just watched the scene unfold with a silent frown, like she was trying to make sense of what was happening. She always thought she’d be the first one to move on.
“Let’s talk outside. Little more privacy from the peanut gallery,” Priestly said to you, tossing a knowing glance over his shoulder. You spotted all the employees now watching you and Priestly closely.
You became a touch more shy as he led you out of the shop with a hand resting on the small of your back. You slipped your sandwich into a larger purse than last time. Then you looked up at him with apologetic eyes.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to come back here,” you said. “It got a bit…ugly, after that night.”
Priestly’s brows furrowed in concern. “Ugly?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you assured him. “Lots of shouting and empty threats, then half-assed apologies. But I’m done with all that.”
Priestly considered that with a nod. “Well, good. I’m glad to hear you’re doing better.”
You stared up at his face, and you thought he really seemed to mean that. You knew you shouldn’t be feeling that familiar flutter in your stomach, not three weeks after breaking up from a year-long relationship. Even so, the night you walked out of this shop, you felt free. Like you could breathe again.
You felt like you.
So now, you leaned up and kissed Priestly on the cheek.
His eyes widened a fraction as he stared down at you. You smiled and grasped his hand.
“Would you maybe want to…ask me out sometime?” you asked. A nervous giggle escaped you, making him smile.
“Y-Yeah, I would. If you’re sure you want me to,” he replied. In the past, maybe he would’ve let his excitement get the best of him. He’d be trying to jump at this chance. Experience had taught him not to hope too hard though. Sometimes, getting what you wished for backfired in your face.
You squeezed his hand, earning his attention.
“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked. Your smile became teasing before you used his words against him. “From what I’ve seen so far, you’re pretty awesome. But mostly pretty.”
He had to laugh at that. Pretty was not something he’d ever been called in life. Weird, freak, try-hard goth—that was all familiar territory. His tattoos and piercings tended to bring that out in people.
But he gathered some courage and squeezed your hand back.
“Well, you’re beautiful,” he said, thumbing at your chin. His eyes met yours and got lost there for a moment. “Uh, really beautiful.”
You blushed further and bit your lower lip out of habit. It drew his gaze, and he gained a little more courage. He tilted your chin upwards, so he could find those lips easier in a kiss. Your fingers curled in the front of his shirt and brought him closer. His hand found your cheek as he angled deeper into the kiss.
Despite the chill on the air, the California sun was warm and beating down on you both.
It was the perfect day for a Miracle.
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AN: How I love Priestly lol. If you liked this, let me know! 💜
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yandere-writer-momo · 7 months
Text
Yandere Baki Short Stories: Courtship
Yandere Pickle x Afab Reader
TW: creepy coworker and yandere behavior
Buy me a coffee?💕
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A sigh escaped (your name)’s lips as she meandered down the street towards her home. She hadn’t planned on being at work for so long, but her boss peer pressured her into staying past her shift… and now she paid the consequences.
She clutched her lunchbox to her thigh for more of a sense of security through the dimly lit streets. (Your name) just had to pass by this alleyway and she was in the clear…
A low groan drew her from her musings, her head snapped toward the dark alleyway. The hair on her arm stood straight up in pure fear. (Your name) was certain her heart just went still for a straight minute.
“H-hello?” She meekly asked the dark abyss of the alleyway. This was like something out of horror movie and she would be the first idiot to die… she should just walk away. Curiosity always killed the cat.
And then another pained whine came from the darkness… was it an injured animal of some kind? Her heart ached at the thought. Maybe she’d shine a light down the alleyway to see what made those pained noises.
(Your name) pulled her phone out of her pocket and activated the flashlight on it. She then shined the light down the alleyway, her eyes wide at the sight before her.
It wasn’t a dog that groaned in hunger but a man. A man covered in jagged scars sat curled up beside a dumpster. His large, tanned body curled up into a ball. His golden eyes filled with fear when he looked at her. Was he homeless?
(Your name) slowly made her way toward him, careful not to scare him even more than he already was. Her eyes softened at how he cowered when she neared him.
“It’s okay… I won’t hurt you.” (Your name) continued to tip toe towards the large man until she was only a few feet off him. He only trembled in response, his golden eyes studied her in anticipation. And that’s when a loud growl from his stomach reached her ears, a sympathetic smile on her face.
The young woman slowly reached into her lunchbox and handed him her uneaten sandwich. The man’s eyes widen in surprise before he hesitantly took the sandwich from her.
Now that she could see his face a bit better, she realized this man was bewitchingly beautiful. It was as if he was from another world.
The man hesitantly sniffed the sandwich before he gingerly took a bite. His eyes lit up at the taste of honeyed ham and swiss, his abnormally long tongue darted out to lick the sauce from between the sandwich.
(Your name) could only stare in wonder at the odd man. Was this the first sandwich he’s ever had? He was taking apart each layer of the sandwich rather than eating it all together. Despite how bizarre this was, it was also kind of endearing.
(Your name) quickly handed him the fresh fruit and vegetables to try to put something else in his bottomless pit of a stomach. How long had he been hungry? She felt horrible for him…
(Your name) watched the man scarf down his food like a starving animal. His body language no longer showed fear, an expression of relaxation on his face. She wondered if he may be mentally impaired.
(Your name) sat with him for a bit, his putrid scent was a bit much for her to handle, but he seemed so lonely.. how could she not feel bad for him?
The man turned his completely attention to her. His head tilted to the side while he studied her pretty face. His golden eyes and mannerisms reminded her of an owl.
(Your name) sat with the man for a few more minutes until she decided to leave. It was getting late…
“Good bye, mister. Take care, okay?” (Your name) smiled brightly at the man, the man tilted his head off to the side. Poor guy… she hoped he stayed safe.
The man’s golden eyes watched the young woman leave. Pickle purred, his golden eyes studied her small form.
The primitive man slowly trailed behind her, the giant careful not to alert her of his presence. Pickle didn’t want to scare his future mate!
He wondered if he should start courting her since she had courted him… maybe some fruits would do? She seemed to like fruits!
Poor (your name) had not a single clue in the world of the trouble that was about to brew in her life.
.
.
.
Small rodent and avian carcasses were left on her step. It was a bit difficult to differentiate what they once were since their bodies were so mangled, but she was able to piece together what they were due to the feathers, blood, and fur that was mixed all over her doormat.
This was all so incredibly strange... Were these left behind by the local cat? Was it a token of appreciation for feeding it? (Your name) had not a clue on who or what could’ve left this on her step. She didn’t think a cat was capable of such brutality, but it was hard to imagine another human, leaving this too…
(Your name) grimaced when she picked some of the remnants of the small animal carcasses, a few guys spilled out when she did so. This was so gross.
The young woman scrunched up her face and distaste. she then began to clean up the mess and discard the carcasses into her trashcan. She would probably have to bleach her whole front step to get the putrid odor of death away after work…
“Meow!”
An orange tabby cat mewled at her. Its little orange body brushed against her in a soothing manner. She smiled a bit at the fluffy feline before she bent down to run her fingers through its small head.
“Hello, tiger. I haven’t seen you in a bit.” The cat simply purred in response, its tail rubbed against her legs to scent her. (Your name) indulged the cat a bit until she knew she had to leave for work. “Sorry but I have to go to work. I’ll see you later!”
(Your name) gathered up her belongings and hurried down the street to walk to work. The orange tabby sat on her step, it’s tail ticked back and for like a clock. It’s small pink nose sniffed the few remains she didn’t scoop up in interest. The cat then began to lick up the bloody remains.
Pickle whined from his spot in the forest. She didn’t like his gift… was it not to her liking?
Pickle snarled, his bloody canines flashed under the light as he watched the cat lick up the remnants of his gift. That wasn’t for that animal… it was for his mate. Perhaps she would like something bigger?
Pickle observed the local cat that (your name) doted on. He’d start with that creature that hogged her attention… then he’d set his sights to bigger game.
Pickle stalked forward toward his prey, but the cat tilted its head at him. The tiny animal sauntered over to him and brushed its head against his leg.
It dumbfounded Pickle. The Neanderthal scooped up the small house cat and stared at it. The cat’s purrs never ceased as it maintained eye contact with him.
The two creatures blinked at each other until the cat leaned forward and licked Pickle’s nose. Pickle furrowed his brow at the rough feeling but didn’t entirely reject the gesture.
Pickle changed his mind. He was fond of this tiny creature that purred like him. Pickle sat on the grass with the cat now in his lap. The cat rubbed its head over his palms to pet it.
Pickle would find something else to hunt… something much larger. He didn’t think (your name) would like if he harmed her companion.
.
.
.
“So I was wondering if you’d let me take you out on a date yet, (your name)?” (Your name) sighed and glanced up from her computer at her manager, Kenji. He was a nice looking man but (your name) had no interest in dating anyone at the moment. She was quite happy just caring for the local cat and tending to her indoor plants.
“Sorry, Kenji. I don’t have any interest in dating.” (Your name) bowed her head a bit to Kenji. “Thank you for the offer-“
Kenji sighed, the young man leaned his beefy forearms onto her cubicle wall. His dark eyes narrowed a bit before he muttered, “you’re going to end up alone. You’re still young and pretty. Don’t you think you should give this a chance? You might not get another.”
(Your name) furrowed her brow at Kenji in confusion. What on earth did he mean by that?
As if Kenji could read her mind, he chuckled. “Everyone thinks you’re a bit odd, (your name). You daydream an awful lot and you feed the cats. The other workers all think you’re going to end up being a cat lady.”
(Your name) frowned and turned her attention back to her computer, which made Kenji click his tongue. The brunette then went on his way.
Kenji swore he’d get her attention soon… he’s liked her for awhile now. And he’d do anything for her to notice him… anything.
Kenji smirked. Thank goodness she lived in isolation, it’d be easier to corner her since no one would hear her screams….
.
.
.
(Your name) made her way home, unaware of a presence following behind her. The young woman walked down the dimly lit streets toward her house with no awareness of her surroundings.
Pickle scuttled around in the shadows. His eyes narrowed at the man that followed (your name). His nose sniffed the air, his head cocked to the side in confusion. Was this a challenger?
Pickle quietly stalked forward behind the man. The man too focused on following (your name) to notice the Neanderthal behind him.
(Your name) eventually made it onto hee quiet street. The young woman hummed a cheery tune, unaware of the Kenji who was just a few feet behind her.
The man made a move to grab her but he was soon pulled into a giant, muscular chest. The man almost screened but a large hand was shoved over his mouth.
Kenji slowly looked up, his dark eyes wide in horror at what held him like a snake. This was the caveman from the news…
Pickle tilted his head in curiosity. What was this small man planning to do with his mate? Pickle may not have been from the modern world but he was familiar with the laws of nature. And this man didn’t have good intentions for his mate…
Pickle bared his fangs at the man, his golden eyes glowed like a burning fire under the street lights. Pickle was terrifying… and his sudden appearance may have caused Kenji to urinate himself a bit.
Pickle turned his head to glance at (your name) who made it safely to her house, far enough out of ear shot now to what was about to happen.
Kenji tried to swing his fist up to punch Pickle but Pickle simply snapped his head off to the side. Pickle cooed a bit at the dead body now in his arms.
This was his competition? How disappointing…
Pickle carried Kenji toward the sewers. The caveman threw his body into the manhole before he jumped in after.
Perhaps he’d leave more gifts for (your name) later? He wondered if she’d like a pelt… he could show off his nest skills to her! She’d be so thrilled to se show hood of a provider he was!
But first he’d take care of this body. Pickle was feeling a bit peckish after all…
.
.
.
(Your name) hummed as she watered her various tropical plants in her home. The inside of her house felt much like a tropical rainforest for the various rare plants in her home.
(Your name) owned various orchids, a few vibrant flamingo flowers, and some lovely begonias. But her favorite was her monstera. She babied that plant the most. The young woman considered at her most prized possession since it was her largest plant.
She felt so at peace taking care of these plants. Her plants are better company than most people. She found it hard to be around other human beings, since they were always so conniving. She knew that at least plants would never betray her or try to harm her.
(Your name) hummed as she continued to tend to her plants. Unaware of Pickle who sat perched on a tree branch outside her window. The Neanderthal has recently found a way in through her bedroom but he preferred to wait until she wasn’t home.
It was much easier for him to find places where they could store young and to scent the outer perimeter of her house when she wasn’t around. Pickle made sure to keep her home extra safe.
The various plant life was a plus to him. It made him feel like he was at home himself… he was so flattered that his mate was so understanding of him.
Pickle would be sure to be wonderful to her once she accepted the last part of his courtship.
.
.
.
A few days have gone by and Kenji was no longer at work. (Your name) and her coworkers thought it was very strange. He never missed work.
A few had tried to call him, and one coworker even went to his house, but there was no reply. It puzzled them all. Where could he have gone?
Kenji was a bachelor so he didn’t have any roommates or a girlfriend. And no one in the office really knew his family either… it was a shame.
(Your name) felt bad about being relieved from his absence. She no longer was harassed on a day-to-day basis for a date. A part of her feel guilty, but the other part not so much.
(Your name) continue to type away on her computer, unaware of the caveman that sat on the rooftop of the building across the street from her. His golden eyes studied her as she worked diligently on her assignment.
Pickle placed his chin in his palms, the caveman purred. His mate was so cute… she seemed much happier now that the weird man was gone.
Pickle glanced down at the fresh bear pelt beside him. He would leave this for her at we home today and then he would start to bring her many more until she accepted him.
Spring time was coming soon and pickle was determined to mate.
.
.
.
A few weeks have gone by since the disappearance of Kenji now. It was spring now… and he was still missing.
Missing posters of Kenji were now set all over the city. There was absolutely no trace of him anywhere. (Your name) felt as if he was a ghost, because he disappeared into thin air.
The police broke into his apartment to find a body, but nothing was found other than old food and all of his belongings. There was talk that he might have been murdered or kidnapped. But who on this green earth would want Kenji of all people?
This matter didn’t help the young women feel any safer in his community anymore. In the last few weeks she felt as if there was always a pair of eyes that were on her. No matter where she went or where she was, she felt like she was being studied like a lab specimen. It made her skin crawl sometimes.
(Your name) clutched her lunch box close to herself and bit her lip. She didn’t feel safe anywhere she went. Her home no longer felt safe. She swore some of her belongings were missing and it drove her insane.
(Your name) had only a handful of panties left now… which was odd since she had just bought some new ones recently. She even took apart her washer to examine if they were lost in one of the crevices but to no avail…
But who would steal her undergarments? Kenji was no longer in the picture so it couldn’t be him… and he was the only man who was interested in her… she should stop thinking about this.
(Your name) wished she could shrug it off but she couldn’t. Especially with the various animal pelts left on her door step.
Who was bringing her bear and deer pelts? She couldn’t bring herself to throw them away but she has just been shoving them into her garage. She didn’t know what else to do with them… she would feel bad if she threw away someone’s hard work.
(Your name) sat on her door step with her orange tabby, Tiger. The cat purred while she pet him. Lately she had noticed that the cat had put on a few extra pounds… has someone else been feeding him?
(Your name) patted Tiger’s little tummy in wonder. She didn’t have any neighbors around so it was strange that the cat had gained some extra cushion…
And that’s when a rustling in the bushes drew her attention. (Your name) snapped her head towards the bush, a giant man stepped forward. His golden eyes transfixed on her. It was the homeless guy she met months ago…
(Your name) glanced at the pelt in his arms in shock. Was he her stalker?!
Pickle gave her a toothy grin. The Neanderthal set the pelt in front of her before he began to dance. (Your name) could only sit still in shock while Pickle continued to dance before her.
Then it all clicked. Pickle was not a homeless man. He was the Neanderthal from the news a few months back… and he wasn’t stalking her. Pickle was courting her.
(Your name) froze when Pickle paused his dance, the Neanderthal cooed softly at her. His long fingers tilted her chin up to look at him.
And that’s when he licked her nose just like a cat. His eyes filled with wonder.
(Your name) remained frozen, even when he scooped her up into his arms to carry her into her garage where the various pelts lied.
Pickle finally had her… he finally had his cute little mate.
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jazzyoranges · 7 months
Text
Splitting Headache
Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Summary: Tara is there when you have a shitty day at work
Words: 1.0k
A/n: i didn’t spell check or anything so sorry if there’s mistakes 😇 also kinda inspired by a reddit story i saw on tiktok
Warnings(?): fluff, annoying customers
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You’ve had a long fucking day at work. Your day was already bad when you woke up. There was a throbbing pain right in the middle for your forehead, but alas, the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache. Unfortunately, your headache only worsened when you somehow slipped on a chew toy in the kitchen of your apartment
But the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache or a bruise on your ass. You worked as a barista at a pretty busy coffee shop. There was always a constant stream of people ordering pastries, drinks, and sandwiches. At least you got paid a little more than average, right?
Luckily the car ride to the shop wasn’t too bad. Until you almost crashed into some dumbass driver that doesn’t know how to drive. A plethora of curses escaped your lips as you angrily beeped at the guy that almost made a dent in your car — your precious baby
But the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache, a bruise on your ass, or idiot drivers. You’re only a few minutes late so you quickly put on your apron and start making some drinks. The thing you hate most about your job isn’t the customers, but the overly complex and sugary coffees. Like, who the fuck is ordering a liquified birthday cake coffee at eight in the morning? The loud machine’s definitely didn’t make your headache better
But the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache, a bruise on your ass, idiot drivers, or loud noises. Thankfully your job was pretty simple. Well, to you it was a pain in the ass, but an easy pain in the ass. Take the order, make the drink, spell the name wrong, and serve. Sounds pretty easy, but there just so happens to be a certain time where the worst customers come in. Nine in the morning. At nine in the morning, all of the angry moms and the mean business men come in to have their morning coffee
And every single morning you have to deal with them
Every.
Single.
Morning.
Today was absolutely no different
“I asked for two pumps of vanilla! You only put one!”
“No, that gift card isn’t used up!”
“I get to cut the line. I’m more important than anyone else here!”
But the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache, a bruise on your ass, idiot drivers, loud noises, or annoying customers. Really, the only thing that was getting you through this day was your girlfriend. Your amazing, beautiful, wonderful, kind, beau-
“This is disgusting! You must be new, this is not the matcha coffee I ordered!” A woman snaps you out of your thoughts and you have to put on your customer-service voice
“Actually, i’ve been working here for about six months. What seems to be the issue?”
“Are you trying to smart-mouth me, young lady?”
“Not at all, ma’am.”
“Yeah the hell you are!” The lady was practically screaming at you, and you saw some phones recording your situation. At least you’d have proof of verbal harassment if you decided to punch her
“Please, ma’am, I’ll make it for you again.”
“No way! You’ve ruined my morning!” And with that, the woman splashes her drink in your face before you can react. Your manager catches wind of the situation, but he gets there too late. You’re already dripping green when he arrives. You storm off into the break room with a scowl on your face
But the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache, a bruise on your ass, idiot drivers, loud noises, annoying customers, or women that throw matcha coffee in your face. Thankfully your manager is nice and kind enough to know the customer isn’t always right. He offers you the day off, and you happily accept. You wash up before leaving and earn a few “I’m sorry she did that”’s and “She was in the wrong”’s, which makes you feel a little better knowing the other customers were on your side
The entire situation just made your head throb even harder
Originally you were going to go back home to take a nap, but you decide to visit the only reason you kept going today. You’re amazing, beautiful, wonderful, kind, girlfriend Tara. All you wanted to do was spend the rest of the day in her arms and kiss until your lips were swollen. Every sapphic woman’s dream, really
You pull into the garage of Tara’s apartment complex, and practically sprint to her room. One minute flat, a new record. Softly knocking on the door as to not scare her, you patiently waited to hear her footsteps check the peephole
“Baby?” Your girlfriend says behind the door before opening it. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
You choose to not elaborate, and pull her into a shoulder crushing hug
“What’s with the affection? Tell me what’s wrong, love”
“Bad day. Cuddle?” You mumble into her shoulder, and she laughs while shutting the door
“Of course.” Tara pulls your face to hers, giving you a deep kiss before taking you to her room. You can’t your giddy smile and it makes the younger Carpenter happy
There are random shirts and shorts from all the times you’ve spent over, and you quickly change before jumping into Tara’s arms. Burying your head into your girlfriend’s chest, you sigh at her smell. She’s exactly what home smells like to you
“Wanna tell me what’s wrong, baby?”
“Tired.” You mumble
“It’s only two in the afternoon my love”
“Just want you...” You mumble again in one breath, making Tara laugh
She had to be magic. Your worries washed away, and simply being with her made you feel better. Tara ran her hands through your hair, massaging your head. Simultaneously, your headache was nearly gone. Shitty days, mediocre days, good days, you knew your girlfriend would be there to pick you up. Maybe you wouldn’t mind if the world stopped spinning for Tara Carpenter
Bonus:
“Baby, why do you smell like matcha?”
“Long story.”
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He's a beautiful idiot sandwich
Original
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gtgbabie0 · 1 year
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hi there! I love ur works so so much 🤍 everything by u is so sweet! can I request leon meeting a florist reader because he has to get flowers for something and when he sees her he’s already in love cause he thinks she’s really pretty 🥹 and they just have a really lovely encounter and he comes by the shop a lot and eventually he asks her out
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The pretty florist
{Leon falls in love with the pretty florist}
So so cute!! Hope you enjoy lovely! 💕
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Leon can’t remember much of his childhood and recently he found himself forgetting a lot more than just the past, for better or for worse, probably for the better he reckons. Still, today was special, the 24th of May, his grandmother's eightieth birthday, the strongest woman he knows.
He wants to give her something at least, no matter how many times she tells him ‘not to worry’ The least he can do is pick her up some flowers, and he finds himself drawn to the cute little flower shop, it seemed so out of place buried within the busy city.
He opens the door carefully, surprised at the little jingle of the bell and he’s hit with the strong aroma of flowers, it’s oddly pleasant, in a refreshing spring way.
“Oh! Good afternoon, looking for anything in particular?” you smile, popping your head around the corner as you walk behind the cash register, and Leon does nothing but stand there completely awestruck. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone so pretty, so angelic.
He clears his throat as he wrings his fingers with sudden nervousness, “H-hi- erm, yes” he stutters squeezing his eyes shut as he winces at how awful that sounded.
“I’ve umm, I’ve never done this, brought flowers I mean- well no I have- brought flowers- I just get them already arranged” he rambles, and he feels like an idiot.
But then you giggle, and it’s the most heartwarming sound that he’s ever heard and it somehow makes him feel a lot better, “Oh, It’s alright, let’s just start on why you’re buying them, and then we’ll go from there, okay?” You tell him with such a soft tone, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
His heart shouldn’t be beating this fast, he’s only literally just met you, so why does he feel like his heart is going to explode?
“So what's the special occasion?” You ask.
“It’s erm, it’s my grandmother's birthday today- I wanted to get her something” he smiles as you nod, and he’s taken back at the way your eyes seem to glisten under the afternoon sun, such pretty eyes, he thinks.
You’re saying something and he knows he should be listening, but god, he’s so distracted by your beauty and the kindness that bleeds into your tone.
“-I’ll be one second alright?” You smile and before he could even begin to string a sentence together you’ve already disappeared behind the curtains and into the back room.
You return after just a minute, a beautiful bouquet in hand different variations of yellows and blues, with specks of white dotted around the bundle of beautiful flowers, and Leon finds a new appreciation for greenery.
“They— they’re beautiful thank you, she’s going to love them” he smiles, pleased with the arrangement and he watches carefully as you wrap them up finishing them off with a little white bow.
You look up at him as pulls out his wallet handing you the money, “You’re welcome, I’m glad you like them” You giggle, a prideful feeling settling in your chest.
You pick up the bouquet handing them to him and your skin warms up as his fingers brush against yours ever so slightly, you can’t stop the huge smile that adorns your face as you watch him leave. You can only hope you’ll see him again.
Your wishes were granted, Leon Kennedy, you learned his name became quite a regular sometimes he’d just visit to drop you off lunch, and you couldn’t lie it was nice having someone around. He was sweet.
Like every other day, Leon would pop over to your little flower shop, a coffee in hand and a sandwich of your choice with a huge smile stretched across his face.
“Ah! Leon, you’re my hero- thank you” you tell him as he places the bag on the countertop, chuckling at the way you rummage through the bag.
He watches as you take a bite of the sandwich with love in his eyes, and he can't help but wonder if you look at him with love-filled eyes when he looks away.
“So what’s brought you here today Lee?” You ask, wiping the corners of your mouth as he runs a nervous hand through his hair, a habit of his you picked up on. His heart flutters at the nickname that falls from your lips.
He clears his throat, “Well I- I wanted to ask you something” he stumbles, his hands wringing together with sudden nervousness.
“Yeah go ahead” you smile, urging him to continue.
Leon thinks he might pass out, or worse his heart might stop altogether, the past month he’s been working himself up to do this and now that he’s finally about to do it he can’t stop the tremor in his hands.
“I was- I was wondering if maybe- if you might want to go out some time together, dinner maybe?- like a date if you wanted to” his eyes study the floor beneath him, not daring to look up at you scared of any rejection that might stain your eyes.
But then you reach for his hand and his skin goes all staticky, and when he finally looks at that beautiful smile of yours his heart seems to find a calm rhythm.
his question sends you reeling with excitement and you go giddy at how he looks at you, awaiting your answer with a hopeful gleam in his blue eyes, “I- I would love to Leon” you giggle, noticing the redness that tints his cheeks.
“Is- is Friday good?” He wonders, trying to ignore how soft your hand feels against his.
“Yeah, Friday works,” you tell him excitement bursts through your chest as his thumb grazes ever so slightly over your knuckles.
Leon hasn’t felt like this in a very very long time, the way his heart practically skips beats, how his skin heats up and the butterflies that flutter around in his stomach, he can’t stop the bashful smile that stretches over his face.
“I’ll erm pick you up at seven,” he says as he grabs his car keys, “I- I gotta go- work- before I’m late- see you Friday” he smiles stumbling over himself as he waves goodbye before walking out the quaint little shop.
You giggle to yourself as you busy yourself with work, thinking about Friday and it couldn’t come sooner.
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