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doobea · 20 days

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SPITTIN' OUT LIKE LISTERINE ─ RIN I.

synopsis: sae is great at a lot of things, his brother... not so much. when sae calls you up to tutor rin for his upcoming exams the first thought should've been 'yeah, sounds like easy money' rather than 'why does it look like he wants to kill me right now'.

MILESTONE EVENT || MILESTONE MASTERLIST

contents: gn!reader, reader is two grades above rin, college AU setting, forced proximity, best friend's brother, rin is a lil emotionally constipated but its alright bc we love him, sae is a physics major in this idk why word count: 10.9k (haha... why do i do this) a/n: hi hi umm idk if i know how to write tbh its been quite some time,,, but im slowly finding myself getting back into the groove and umm yeah it'll still take some time!! anyways, thank you for beta'ing @popponn and of course this fic is dedicated to you too my sweet <3

You meet Itoshi Rin at a coffee shop, of all places.

The kind of shop that you often see campus influencers hanging around. Hole in the wall. Dangling fairy lights paired with a few overgrown rose bushes in the front. A bit old-schooled, wooden counter tops, with well loved espresso machines. It’s not a big cafe, just enough to hold a few couches, a singular bookshelf packed with all sorts of board games, and low rise tables with way too many heat stains.

At the start of the year, it started out as a quiet job. Never too overwhelming and had just enough downtime for you to finish up assignments in between breaks. Recently, due to a couple of self-proclaimed foodies on campus, business has blown up ten-fold. So, instead of catching up on your latest lectures, you’re stuck brewing teenage girls their overpriced lattes that are just mostly multiple pumps of flavored syrup and copious amounts of whipped cream. It’s rough but manageable to say the least, judging from the tips.

You’re currently on scholarship, top of your classes and major, but you’re also living on your own so rent’s gotta get paid one way or another. Whether it be working part-time as a teaching assistant, a barista, or both.

On this particular day, you’re just about done closing up shop. The last hour had you rushing back and forth, fulfilling a last minute order from a Karen that swore up and down that she placed a mobile app order for ten frappuccinos twenty minutes prior. It’s been a long day, but the evening has finally calmed down. You’re scrubbing down the counter, putting all the remaining elbow grease you have into this one particular syrup spill earlier that you didn’t realize that someone had walked in until they started clearing their throat.

You barely look up, having the stain just almost disappear from the counter, but the information you register is enough to know that it’s a guy, and he’s by himself.

And, okay, in a normal setting you would probably be smart enough to realize that a guy wearing a black cap, oversized hoodie, and a large gym bag at nearly nine o’clock at night is anything but suspicious. You, however, worked a long day. Your eyes are strained from operating the bright tablet menu. Your hair is a frenzied mess. There’s tea stains all over your apron. You get the gist.

So you don’t really notice at all, except that this guy is idling in front of the counter, looking over at the menu with equally strained eyes as you. That’s not unusual. You’ve learned when to be helpful and when to give someone their time and space. It’s slow now, not like it’s common for more customers to show up this late anyway.

After a moment, the customer clears his throat again. You turn around, fixing your apron, and work up a friendly smile and a quick “ready to order?” when it dawns upon you that this guy is breathtakingly gorgeous. So much so that if you could take over the rights of the Oxford Dictionary, you would attach this guy’s face underneath the word gorgeous and emo.

Dark wispy bangs, striking teal eyes, long mesmerizing lashes, and lips that naturally fall into a small frown giving him the ultimate resting bitch face. They’re also very kissable lips, and you hate yourself for jumping to that thought so fast. It’s not usual for you to hit on customers, let alone just anyone, and it’s probably safe to say that anyone as handsome as The Duke of the North (because you’ve also been reading too many romance comics on the side and this stranger definitely fits this role) probably has a partner of his own.

“Hey,” The Duke of the North looks awkwardly pained, as if he hates starting a conversation. His eyes drift down to your name tag that’s proudly displayed on your apron, littered with all sorts of stickers and pins. “I—um, what do you recommend?”

Working in food service made you absolutely hate this question with a burning passion. Everyone’s taste is subjective. You get this question all the damn time, and you have to put on your best customer service act, all preppy and bubbly. It’s not like you hate helping customers, you do. But, when they don’t give you anything to work with, it becomes your fault if the drink is bad.

Though, for obvious reasons, you don’t mind extending the conversation with The Duke of the North. Just by glance alone, you can tell he’s a bit of a health nut from the lean physique and the hefty gym bag that’s tossed around his shoulders. Looks scary and a little daunting, but you have an inkling feeling he’s more of a traditional type of guy.

“If you want popular suggestions then I’d rec our brown sugar boba for beginners or, if you want something less sweet, I always prefer our in house rose oolong milk tea.” You answer, good-naturedly.

The Duke of the North seems to be in deep pondering. The look on his face makes you feel a little uneasy, like maybe he’s missing something, but eventually he settles with the latter. “Rose oolong,” He says thoughtfully, almost unfamiliar with the term. “I’ll have that then.”

“It’s one of our signature drinks,” you ring in his order with a smile, “tends to be popular with a lot of the older women.” There’s tease laced in the tone, but you mean no harm. Maybe just a tiny amount for him coming in before closing.

And, after collecting the cash payment, you can tell that he’s struggling with the awkwardness hanging in the air. You assume he’s not used to jokes, or even hanging around others willingly for that fact. There was another comment you wanted to ask, more so his background and if he goes to the same university, but it quickly vanishes when the guy scurries to the furthest corner of the shop.

Okay, that’s fine too. Not everyone is suited for small talk.

You get the feeling that this guy wants to avoid people and maybe he’s also had one hell of a day. You’ve learned pretty early on as a barista to never ask anyone about their problems, only because you’ll accidentally sign up to become their therapist without meaning to.

You decide to brew up a warm batch of rose oolong tea, despite the fact he never specified if he wanted it hot or iced - he looks like the type of guy to always order a warm drink, even on a summer day. And, being the lovely barista you are, you decide to give him a large for the hell of it. This will go down as your one positive action for today, hoping that the good luck will carry over for tomorrow’s rough schedule.

“Hope you like it,” you present him with the tea and watch him as he swirls the drink around. He doesn’t look upset that it’s warm, so you take that as a good sign. “Feel free to hang back a little, I still have to clean up a couple of things in the back.”

“Sure, thanks,” he nods, and the words sound genuine. Without missing a beat, he retreats back in the corner and pulls out a laptop, notebook, and somehow manages to balance the drink on the cushion next to him. Yeah, definitely a fellow student working overtime like you.

True to your word, you go back to your boring list of chores to do; tons of equipment to be sanitized, chalkboard to be erased and be replaced by tomorrow’s daily specials, counting the register, taking out all the trash… maybe it’s not too late to find a less taxing job.

If you weren’t so tunnel visioned in your deep cleaning, maybe you would’ve noticed The Duke of the North spilling some of the tea on himself, asking if you had some extra tissues he could borrow, but only growing self-cautious when he realized that your earbuds are shoved in. And maybe you’d notice him cleaning up the spill with his own clothes from the gym bag, dabbing the spot furiously and making sure it looked like the same state prior.

You’re almost done with your long list of closing chores when The Duke of the North returns with an empty cup. “Thanks, again. ‘S was good,” he awkwardly offers up.

“Glad to hear,” you flush a little, because your uniform is a mess, and you clearly look the part still. Nothing is more embarrassing than a cute guy staring down at you while you’re sweaty, tired, and have soap suds all over your apron.

There’s a bit of a silence, and then he says, even more awkwardly, “I’ll, uh, see you around. Good night.”

“Sure,” you reply in a quiet voice, in a tone that’s taken on a dreamy sort of quality. “Night.”

You let out a ragged sigh by the time he was out of sight, praying to see him again in better circumstances. By the time you’re locking the front door, you’re half debating to FaceTime your best friend about the random encounter. Somehow, Sae tends to know just about everyone on campus, even if his friend group only extends out to you. Though, noting that it’s nearly midnight and you should really catch the last bus of the day, you quickly toss that thought out the window and save the energy for tomorrow’s session.

“Mind tutoring my brother for me?” Sae asks out of the blue the next day.

You flail a little, shooting him an exasperated look over your shoulder as your fingers stop in mid hover over the keys of your laptop. An hour and a half into the TA grading session and somehow things feel slightly more off than yesterday night.

There’s only one single thought running through your mind as you stare at Sae, best friend of nearly two years, “You have a brother?!”

A swarm of “shh” and “quiet down” soon blows in your direction in the library. You’re quickly met with glares from other senior students from nearby tables and study rooms as you mumble back flurries of “sorry” while Sae only rolls his eyes.

It’s nearing midterms, everyone and their mothers are camped on every floor and crevice of the building, thus making gossiping quite impossible and frowned upon. So you stare in disbelief at your friend on the wild fact that he potentially has a brother and didn’t bother telling you until now.

Sae blinks, “…Yeah? That’s shocking news to you?”

You laugh a little sheepishly, “You’ve never mentioned having one, let alone anything familial.” Then again, this is Sae. Talk about emotionally guarded.

“You’ve never asked,” Sae huffs before setting down a stack of graded papers. At the top, you see an unfortunate student’s work marred in everything red from Sae’s corrections. He’s always been a tough grader and, for any poor soul who has to take physics, chances of them retaking are high when he’s TAing.

“No offense, but you’ve always given me only child vibes,” you say, lamely, not hiding the fact you’re mildly annoyed. Seriously, this guy knows just about everything about your personal life and now you’re just finding out about his?

“All offense taken,” he replies dryly.

You scoot closer and whisper, “So, who’s the unlucky guy?”

Sae heaves, ignoring your comment, and continues, “Rin. He’s been focusing too much on sports lately to care about his midterms. He knows about the arrangement. I would offer to tutor him but… we don’t have the best sibling relationship.”

And, Sae being Sae, this doesn’t really surprise you. “See? The only child vibe checks out.”

“Anyways,” Sae rolls his eyes for the nth time and tosses you a half folded sticky note with the name and contact info of his presumed brother. “He gets his shitty attitude from me, so try not to get too upset if he doesn’t seem talkative.”

“I haven’t even given my answer to—”

“Just how often do I ask for your help?”

“Like never,” your reply is instant and Sae only raises his brows in confirmation. You take that as a sign of he’ll somehow return the favor. It’s a rare opportunity, perhaps even once in a blue moon, but there is just one thing that you’re wondering about—

“Don’t worry about the money, you’re going to be covered,” Sae reassures as he throws another thick stack of exams on top of the finished pile. “He’s a fast learner when he wants to be, just not as of recently since he’s started the semester.”

“I take it he’s a grade below?”

“About two years younger, in honors.”

You laugh, pulling away and readjusting your attention back to your laptop screen. “Seems smarter than you, I like him already.”

It’s a terrible day, because you’re awake before your alarm. Hell, you’re awake before sunrise.

It’s absolutely nonsense and your boss knows to stop giving you these opening and closing shifts back to back, but apparently nobody else had been available to open.

“You’re competent,” your boss had said over the phone last night. “I trust you more than our own managers, so you should at least feel proud about that.”

Should you?

Of course, you don’t fall for his stupid flattery, not when your alarm is finally blasting in your ear at five in the morning. Normally, you at least try to make yourself look half-presentable but, working on approximately four hours of sleep, the best you could do for yourself is throw on a sweater and jeans before heading out the door.

As a whole, you really do like your job and usually get the later shift but the recent manager got fired for stealing cash from the register, and your other co-worker called off for the next few weeks due to a family emergency, so now your life is a living hell — at least until they return. And, let’s not forget to mention that somehow you’re also stuck with tutoring your classmate’s younger brother because somehow he couldn’t have done it himself. Also a so-called “family emergency”.

The only thing you appreciate is at least it’s warm inside the cafe once you’ve turned on the lights and tossed your bookbag in the back room. The store might be short-staffed today, but mornings are always slow, which only means you can at least get paid by watching some YouTube videos while finishing setting the place up.

You barely get through setting up the pastries when there’s a knock on the door. Dear god. It’s barely seven, you’ve been here for exactly fifty minutes, and already you’re debating smashing your face against the coffee machine to put yourself out of this misery. If it’s a customer, you swear you’re going to kill someone.

As you glare intently at the window, in the early morning, pre-dawn glow, you can make out a tall guy, dressed in athleisure, peering through the glass. You’re about to grumble out loud about entitled customers showing up before opening hours but the door knob suddenly turns, all because you were too tired earlier to lock it, so now you have to put on your dumb customer service voice.

The bell chimes loudly as the guy walks in. The lighting in the coffee shop is low, with that quiet, comfortable ambience of soft piano background music playing through the speakers. Your eyes are still half-awake too, blurry around the edges with sleep. But that face, no one could possibly forget that.

“You’re back,” you say this in awe, offering up your best smile, even though it’s lopsided and droopy. The annoyance ebbs away slowly as the man approaches the counter.

The Duke of the North scratches his cheek, and looks around the cafe a bit more, realizing that he’s quite literally the only one here. “...Am I early?”

“Kinda, we open in thirty minutes,” you shrug. It’s not an accusatory thing, because at least this time he has the manners to come in before it’s open rather than before closing. That’s something you can work with. You were irritated earlier but now you’re suppressing a giggle. “Did you like the drink that much?”

Before he could answer, he tips his baseball cap and grips his bookbag before settling down on the nearest couch by the counter. Wondering if the comment had came out as off putting, you’re about to throw on a free pastry when—

“My brother recommended this cafe. Needed a quiet place to get some work done,” he explains with a slight pause, and continues, “The drink you made was good,” he says quietly and starts unpacking. For whatever reason, that puts a dumb cheesy grin on your face. You’re thankful he’s too occupied to catch that.

“Well, you’re welcome to stop by anytime. Just, you know, within actual store hours.” You laugh when you see the tips of his ear flushing a light shade of red.

“I suppose you’re right,” and you don’t have to look at him to hear the tiny smile in his voice.

“Did you want me to make you anything?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing at the moment. Thank you.”

You two are quiet again for a long time. He’s minding your space while you’re trying to finish your opening duties. When you’re finally done fiddling with the coffee bean grinder, you twirl around, mind racing and checking off your internal checklist with the next task being to actually open the shop. Though, as you turn, The Duke of the North is already by the front door, flipping the sign over to OPEN.

Can this guy get any more charming?

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” except that you totally loved the fact that he did just that. Maybe a concerning amount.

“I was getting up anyways,” he reasons simply with a shrug. Somehow he slightly reminds you of a certain someone, but you ignore the nagging voice inside your head.

“Well, keep that up and we might just hire you,” you tease.

The Duke of the North strolls up to the counter, presenting a credit card in his hand, and looks over the menu behind you. You give him space, but you absolutely try to make out the name on the card. You probably shouldn’t refer to him as The Duke of the North any longer than you should. Then again, if the shoe fits, why change?

Suddenly, the front door bell rings and the sight of maroon catches your attention.

“Sae?”

“You’re here awfully early,” Sae comments, nonchalantly.

You sigh, rubbing a hand to your temple. “Got moved to first shift, unfortunately.”

“Wasn’t talking to you, I was talking to him,” he nods towards The Duke of the North.

Blinking hastily, you choke out, “Wait, you two know each other?”

“Are you that blind?” Sae deadpans and stands next to the taller male, who looks mildly taken back, like somehow he doesn’t want to be here anymore. “This is Rin. The guy I was talking about yesterday. My brother.”

To say that you’re shocked might be an understatement. The correct emotion might’ve been appalled, or even dread? You’re not sure. But you weren’t expecting the meeting to be as unnerved as it was. Rin doesn’t even allow Sae to finish explaining, just ends up walking out with the promise of showing up to the shop at the end of your shift. You remember catching Sae’s irritated expression which, in itself, is extremely rare. It placed a strained smile on your face.

Back at your apartment, you’re currently trying to balance this tutoring session by turning it into a personal study time too. Though, you keep the sight of Rin in your peripheral as you complete your assignments in bed. It didn’t take you too long to look through his current curriculum and throw together a few practice and multiple choice questions for a quick knowledge assessment. He seemed pretty adamant about knowing everything, but Sae has his doubts.

Rin keeps looking over at his quiz, your digital clock, and the floor — all in that order. You don’t want to distract him anymore than he already is, though you can’t help but to spare a glance of what he has done so far.

The multiple choice questions have been filled out, with a couple of eraser bits on the side, but the short answers have hardly been touched. A lofty attempt has been made to the first short answer, where Rin drew a small circuit diagram to determine the internal resistance of a battery, but it kinda just stops at that. Any answers he has written for the problem set are mostly brief notions of what’s already stated in the prompt.

Rin currently has his fingers knotted in his hair, pencil tapping against the table and, underneath the desk, he’s bouncing his leg like mad.He tries to look indifferent on a surface level, but you can easily see the vein popping out on his neck.

By the time you’ve finished grading, Rin barely scrapes by with a C-. And, while some students would be ecstatic with that, it’s surely not enough to raise his current grade to a passing one.

Sae mentioned that Rin’s a fast learner when he wants to be and he never said tutoring would be an easy job. No worries, it’s not the first time you had to mentor a student before. What you’re more worried about is how Rin had been so sure that he knew what he was doing… when he obviously doesn’t.

You hand back the paper with the corrected answers in red ink. You even drew a tiny smiley face by his name to give him some sort of comfort, but Rin just makes a disgruntled noise and looks mildly disgusted.

“I don’t need your sympathy.”

You certainly didn’t expect him to snap at you. Rin visibly tenses and blood rushes to your ears.

Your lips part, finding the right words, as he redirects his attention to your bedroom window and stretches his jaw. Then, after an agonizing long pause, he tips his head back, slouches down in the chair, and sighs in defeat.

“Sorry,” his voice cracks a little and he leans down, resting his forehead on the edge of the table.

You pinch your lips together, eyebrows raised. He looks frustrated, but you can tell it’s not aimed at you. “Let’s… take a fifteen minute break, how does that sound?”

“I think I should go.” He’s a little breathless, possibly uncomfortable under the weight of your stare.

“I’m not delicate, Itoshi,” you say, slowly. You’ve dealt with a fair share of angst-ridden undergrads flustering over their assignments. Rin is no different, and you’re not the type to easily give up after a mini meltdown. It’s all about having the right approach, if you send him home now then the next session would just start off even more strained. “Stay for a while longer, we’ll go over everything one by one.”

“It’s fine.”

You sigh, lips curling ever so slightly. “Itoshi, has anyone told you that you’re a terrible liar?”

From the look on his face, it seemed like the world had slipped out from under his feet. You soon realize that Rin almost reminds you of a raging teen, when he’s like this. He’s fiercely independent, that’s for sure. The type that doesn’t like to make others worry but it ends up backfiring in the end. How he’s managed to get through with life is way beyond your comprehension, but you have a feeling that it has something to do with Sae.

“I… I don’t talk about stuff like this,” he admits and chews down on his lip - it seems like a nervous tick, a bad habit.

“I can tell,” a chuckle bubbles from you but you pause when you catch his glare. You start clearing your throat awkwardly, “I—um, I don’t talk about my feelings often either. I don’t think many people do. We’re all trying to figure things out as we go.”

“Have you figured it out yet?” Rin seems to surprise himself with that question.

Maybe for him, you look like you’ve got all your shit together. As if you’ve figured out all the great secrets in life. And maybe, you think, he just wants reassurance that he’s not alone, struggling, to find purpose. Or perhaps Rin wants you to offer up some adult advice, something only seniors would know.

Your eyes widen for a moment. Rin furrows his brows tightly together and stares at you for answers. You both know well enough that you don’t have a solution, but he looks at you anyway. All you offer him back is a warm, big smile.

“Itoshi, I’m two years older than you. I’ve had a little more years to figure it out,” you begin slowly, “I’ve had my ups and downs, almost flunked out a few courses when I was starting out, too. I didn’t just magically have it all come together.”

He appears doubtful, almost hard to believe. Rin looks like he’s about to protest but one look and he soon realizes that you’re pushing some truth there. You can tell that he’s struggling, mind working in overtime to try and process all of his internal conflicts — only because you’ve gone through the same.

“Honestly,” you continue, after a long moment of silence, and lean to the side, giving Rin’s shoulder a little nudge, “It’s not my business to dig around your psyche, but just know that you’re welcome to tell me anything. Physics related or not.”

Rin doesn’t say a word, but you take his silence as a contentment.

“So, uh,” you start to get up from the bed and pace towards the kitchen area, “I have some sliced fruit in the fridge, if you want some. Can’t solve these problems on an empty stomach.”

You two spend the rest of the night assessing the problems he got stuck on and going over shorthand tricks to easily remember what formulas to use. To your surprise, Rin stays mostly quiet and attentive this time around. He doesn’t stare at the worksheet in irritation anymore, and asks questions when he finds himself stuck on a problem. At the end, he manages a passing B on the new practice assessment. And, of course, while downing a bowl of freshly sliced honeydew.

It’s almost midnight by the time he starts heading out. You’re certain that this is going to kick you in the ass tomorrow morning, because you somehow forgot that you have an 8:00 AM class. It’s fine, you think, at least the atmosphere feels a lot lighter than when you guys first started, so you consider that as a plus.

As Rin begins to put on his shoes, you try to lean against the bedroom door casually and nearly fall over. Looking unimpressed, Rin looks up at you.

“Hm?”

“Do you dislike me?”

“You’d already be dead if I hated you,” Rin says this with a certain level of confidence that makes you both shiver and relax at the same time. You’re positive that he isn’t a serial killer but, then again, you don’t know if Sae is the only source of all that pent up angst.

When his hand rests on the front door knob, Rin suddenly looks back, eyebrows knitted together, and you can’t tell what his expression translates into. Nevertheless, it makes your breath catch in your throat, and you swallow hard.

“Yes, Itoshi?”

”You… your room is messy,” Rin eventually comments, very unnecessarily, which causes you to release a heavy sigh, sticking a disapproving tongue out.

“Wow, you really do get that shitty attitude from him!”

Rin just snorts, hands in his pockets, and you think this is the first time he’s ever really laughed. It throws you off and, before you get a proper chance to recover, he’s out the door.

“You’re surprisingly getting the hang of this, Itoshi” you’re glossing over the practice quiz he had today, feeling a surge of pride knowing that Rin was able to handle it just fine. He ended up receiving a B minus, which is nearly a grade higher from his past averages. Guess a heated vent session is the answer to most problems.

“I’ve cleared my head,” he shrugs nonchalantly, as if it’s the easiest thing to do in the world.

Outside, a storm rages and rattles the windows every time thunder roars. Typhoon season is nearing as the weather starts to get warmer, which ultimately means your evening shifts are cut early to avoid flood risks and violent winds. It’s been about two weeks since the first tutoring session and there’s been a slow progression in your relationship.

Having Rin over almost feels weirdly second nature, despite the short amount of time. You try to meet at least three times a week, two of those times happen right after your shift. The thing you miss the most about being a sophomore is the amount of free time you had. Rin’s classes practically finish before three every day and arrive at the coffee shop right after football practice everyday. Majority of the time, it would just be exchanging shorthand greetings but, whenever the evening rush dies down, you try to strike a quick check-in. Afterwards, the two of you would make the trip back to your apartment to continue the session.

Which leads to this current situation.

About an hour into the session you suggested a well needed break, for you at least. You’re laying down in your bed, playing a mobile game on full volume, while Rin is disciplined enough to still scroll over his previous lecture slides at your desk. You’re not sure if this is what he does to “relax”, or if he’s just simply not grown comfortable around you just yet. Either way, it’s hard to believe that you’re being out mentored.

“You know you can chill, right?”

“I know.” You hear muffled sounds of a lecture recording from his laptop.

“Well, I don’t hear you chilling.”

“I don’t need to be.”

Okay, yeah, you’re starting to see the family resemblance here. But it’s going to take a lot more than that to stop you. How else have you survived as Sae’s best friend for two years?

“Don’t you have any fun weekend plans?”

Rin shakes his head, eyes never leaving his screen. “Maybe not fun by your definitions.”

Your ears perk at this and you subtly lower the volume of the game. Maybe this is a sign to get to know his likes and dislikes, and whether or not he has a significant other — because that’s all important information. At least, that’s what you convince yourself. If Rin just so happens to be in a relationship, then you’ll easily set aside that growing curiosity. If he’s not, then a little harmless flirting won’t harm anyone, right?

“Itoshi,” you sit up from the bed with more purpose than before, Rin seems to catch on and visibly grimaces. “Tell me, I wanna know.”

“We should probably go back to studying,” he sighs.

You hop to your feet, sauntering to the desk and shutting his laptop with ease. Ohm’s Law can wait just a little while longer. “You’ve been at it nonstop since we’ve arrived here. It’s not good to cram everything in that big head of yours, that’s how people burn out faster. C’mon, a ten minute break won’t kill you.”

Rin doesn’t bother to argue against you, he’s been over well enough to pick up that you won’t let him become a complete workaholic.

“Fine,” he gets up and makes his way over to sit on the edge of your bed, because if he doesn't then you’ll eventually force him to sit elsewhere. Something about separating work and personal spaces to improve learning.

You plop down a few inches away with a winning smile, “So, what are your plans?”

“Football practice—”

“Something other than what I already know.”

He exhales loudly. “Catching up on coursework at the cafe, probably.”

This takes you by surprise, only because you work this upcoming weekend. “Really? Well, guess we’ll see each other then.” Maybe tenacity is just rooted deeply in the family’s genes.

“It’s a nice place,” he reasons, sneaking a glance at you.

You begin squirming, trying to turn from Rin without looking like a complete idiot. Then, slowly, “...What do you like about it?”

And, of course, the words barely escape your lips when the whole building seems to creak and groan under the effort of the storm. The power flicks suddenly around the room, and then it’s complete, utter darkness.

You don’t feel Rin’s presence next to you until a sudden gust of air hits your ear. You flinch and clap a hand over your ear while Rin mumbles out a quick apology and stumbles to establish his own personal space on the bed.

It starts to rain heavier now, water slapping hard against the window panels in big, ugly raindrops. You should probably get up and find a flashlight or any lighting of some sort, something to make the situation less awkward, but your body feels like a rock. You don’t want to move but, at the same time, your mind is telling you to run far, far away from Rin.

Heart throbbing against your chest, you gather up the courage to look at Rin’s face with the help of the dim lighting from the window sill. His eyes are half-lidded, seemingly glazed over in deep thought. He doesn’t say a single word, and every moment of his silence stirs the growing anxiousness inside. You swallow, suddenly aware that he’s beginning to unravel your sanity just by being there besides you.

“Are you, um, are you okay with thunderstorms?” you adjust your position with shaky limbs, trying your best to not cross his physical boundaries.

Rin fidgets in response, but you can tell he’s also trying to keep his cool. “I’m fine with them. I just wasn’t expecting the power to suddenly…”

“Yeah, my apartment sucks,” you groan, inwardly. “This doesn’t happen all the time, I swear.” A flash of lightning illuminates the room, you squint against the light. “Maintenance won’t be on site ‘till tomorrow morning. I doubt you want to stay so we’ll have to cut the session short for today.”

You feel the mattress dip a little. The two of you fall silent, and there’s a weird awkward tension hanging in the room, one where it leaves you both red and flushing. Your mind is racing, and there’s a million questions. He hasn’t made any moves of getting up, nor has he said anything about leaving. It’s a bit uncharacteristic for Rin to be unsure in a given situation like this, or is he just being polite? This feels different from your first meeting, it’s still unpredictable, still a confusing mess.

“Or we could talk!” you quickly add on. “I…uh, if you want to talk, that is.”

After a few more moments of that awkward, creeping silence permeating the room, Rin sighs. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to talk about,” he whispers and looks up, his face looking worn out.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. Silence is also okay.”

“I like silence,” he confesses.

“We can just sit here then,” you agree, “silence in itself can be therapeutic, too.”

You don’t necessarily agree with yourself. If it’s not for work at the cafe, you spend a good deal of your time in silence. Studying, grading students’ papers, thinking about your family back home, and preparing for life after graduation. It all gets overwhelming when you sit and process everything in your mind. Even so, the silence that falls between you and your best friend’s brother feels comfortable, in spite of the initial close proximity. You find yourself leaning back into the bed frame’s headboard, curling up sideways.

About ten minutes in, Rin cracks.

“When I was a kid, I used to be afraid of storms. Sae used to make dumb blanket forts with me. It’s silly, but…”

And, despite it being dark, you shoot him a knowing look. For a moment, Rin looks like he regrets even opening his mouth, like he’s about to blurt out a quick ‘nevermind’, but you don’t give him a chance.

“I’m listening, you don’t have to stop.” Unknowingly, you give his shoulders a little nudge of encouragement. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Rin thinks it over, and he only has to for a moment. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

He talks for a while, until he runs out of things to say. Or, rather, he runs out of energy to say anything. His thought process is a jumbled mess of how his relationship with Sae developed. Being the younger sibling, it’s natural for Rin to look up to his brother, to want to gain acknowledgement and become some sort of a mirror image. The thought of Sae looking after Rin while both of their parents were working overtime to provide for their education is also something you could heavily relate to. Around some point down the line, Sae began to distance himself from Rin without any apparent reasoning, at least in his eyes. Towards the end, it becomes a rambling about nothing, too, and you’re positive that Rin hasn’t even gotten into the meat of the issue.

Rin appears mildly exhausted, flustered, and a little embarrassed by the time he’s done. He turns to you, eyes narrowed, “Don’t say that you feel sorry for me, I’ve heard it about a dozen times already. It gets old.”

You shake your head, processing everything. You can tell he has so much more he wants to get off of his chest, so many things he wants to unload, things that he hasn’t even realized that’s been weighing him down.

“I wasn’t gonna say that,” and he stays still, studying your next words with high concentration. “Sae and I have been close for quite a while, and I totally get how he’s an ass—to you and just about everyone else. He’s abrasive and straight to the point with a lot of things. Also pretty sure he’s allergic to communication. Hell, I’m not entirely sure how I was able to get close to him in the first place,” you flare a deep breath out of your nose and rhythmically tap your fingers along your thighs. “But I know he has a weird way of caring for others, too.”

“How so?” Rin doesn’t sound annoyed, just confused. Almost hopeful, even.

“Well, he’s signed you up for tutoring, which might actually not be a good example of care but, um… He normally hates asking people for favors. This is just an unconventional way of saying that he’s making sure you’re doing okay.”

“Could’ve said it himself.”

“Yeah, well, you came to the cafe because he told you, right?”

With that, he quickly shuts his mouth, forming it into a subtle pout. Is he embarrassed that you’re right?

Another flash of lightning comes by, followed by low rumbling thunder. Then, an idea brews.

“This is gonna sound a bit crazy but… do you wanna build a fort?”

Rin snorts. “What’s with that?”

“Well, it doesn't seem like you’re in a rush to leave. Then again, maybe a taxi service would be expensive right now…”

He offers up little resistance to your suggestion and ends up dragging a couple of chairs into your living room from the kitchen. You dig around in your closet and pull out a heavy winter blanket, the ones with a giant tiger imprinted on the front. It’s been stored away for quite some time, leaving bits of dust and other mysterious remnants in the air as you straighten the fabric out. Hopefully Rin’s not sensitive to dust mites.

One side of the blanket is stretched around the edge of the couch and tucked beneath the cushions. Another corner is wrapped and fastened clumsily around a chair. It hangs over the edge of the coffee table and is held in place by the second chair in the corresponding corner. The overall impression is ridiculous, but there's a decent space on the floor in front of the sofa.

“That’s a bit better,” you decide, with a faint laugh.

You’re pressed close to one another, and you have to admit that it’s intimate in a way that you didn’t expect. The air is a little warm, heavy with their breath and the faint heat from the candles. It’s… nice. Outside, the wind is howling, but it is fainter, partially obscured by the blanket barrier that keeps the outside world away.

You decide to stream a horror movie to pass the time, until the weather subsides a bit. You’ll probably go over your data plan for the month, but right now, you don’t really care. You prop the phone up against one of Rin’s textbooks that he didn’t get the chance to go over today, and end up watching a really shitty slasher movie from the 80’s.

At some point, you doze off, leaning in and head tipping to tentatively rest on his shoulder. It’s not the most comfortable position. You’re both slouched back against the couch, pillow wedged under your backs. Your phone eventually runs dead, and the candles burn into nothing—smoldering and smoking as they sputter out.

“Hey,” Rin faintly calls out your name. “It’s getting late.”

You stir in your sleep, finding the strength to open your eyes and tilt your head up. You’re sure that your heart is going to stop beating when he takes notice. The look on your face must’ve been a good one, because now Rin’s six shades of red deeper and he’s got his hand over his mouth.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, Itoshi!”

“It’s… okay,” his voice is low, sounding almost uncertain. “Rin is also fine.”

You fail to notice his fingers making their way past your forearm, past your neck, until you feel them settle on your warm cheek. Shivers course through your body, and the resulting sounds you release is halfway between a sigh and a whimper. His eyes are half-lidded, glazed, and you’re positive yours are no different.

“Sorry, Rin…” you’re apologizing again, his name sounds foreign on your tongue but feels like home all at the same time. Your voice begins to trail off. You can’t finish, your eyes are already closed, head tilted. As you breathe, with your heart rattling in your throat, you feel Rin lean in close.

As soon as you collide into him, his lips meld against yours.

It’s funny how life works. Some days seem to drag, impossibly slow, especially when you’re trapped in your own mind — replaying everything, obsessing over every single action you’ve done wrong in your life. There are days where you barely get out of bed until it’s time for classes or to get ready for work, where you just go through the motions.

Other days, they fly by in the blink of an eye. Sometimes it’s because you hole yourself up at the library, nose glued to your textbooks, and body running on adrenaline. Other times, it’s because you keep replaying that kiss you gave Rin, wondering what it means, or if it just means nothing at all. You remember being roped in by the shy, tentative edge in his voice that reminded you when you first met him at the shop, where you first had been infatuated.

Rin hasn’t spoken to you since that night at your apartment. On one hand, while you’re worried that you might’ve said something out of line, and maybe that kiss came off too strong. Which, of course it fucking came off too strong. You kissed your best friend’s brother, and that just spells disaster on its own. Although, on the other hand, you’re glad that you guys are on a first name basis.

That’s fine. Rin seems to be going through a lot and the best professional way to handle this situation is to be… professional. Everything is all too much, and you've decided that you need to take a break.

That night, you’ve made a quick trip home after work to stay at your family’s. You don’t have time to mull over a certain junior of yours, not when you have your own things to take care of.

Your parents’ are currently on their anniversary date, leaving behind your two younger siblings all by themselves. You think two eight year olds could handle themselves just fine for a few hours but, then again, kids these days are just built differently.

You ended up ordering takeout and made them sit through a painstakingly long foreign film. Subtitles always put kids to sleep faster, you’ve learned. After carrying them to bed, you decide to spend the rest of your night sitting outside on the patio and wait for the return of your parents.

The skies are always clearer in the suburbs compared to the bustling city lights that pollute everywhere else. You sit down on a small plastic chair, one belonging to your siblings, and spend a good few minutes appreciating the twinkling stars and the raw smell of the countryside. You fix your gaze out in the distance, at the same hills and mountains the sprawling city overlooks.

Feeling inspired, you fish out your phone and decide to send Sae a quick picture of the surroundings with the caption ‘miss you loser :P’. It’s a small mini-game that you two started a year back, sending each other photos whenever away from campus, even though it’s mainly you sending the photos and he sends back middle finger emojis.

Though, as soon as you hit the send button, dread immediately fills your gut.

“Wait, shit, shit—wrong brother!”

Your heart hammers against your chest as you stare at the now seemingly flirty caption and, dear lord, your reputation might as well be down the gutters. This will go down as probably the most embarrassing moments of your life, and what makes things even worse is that you know Rin has seen it because three gray dots are now jumping up and down in the chat log.

God, what are you even supposed to say to that?

[Sae’s Brother!!!]: I’m sorry?

When you receive the responding text, you feel yourself losing ten years off your lifespan. You bury your face into your hands and whine, loudly.

This incident on top of whatever the hell happened during the night of the storm… Rin probably thinks you’re a creep for doing this. You can already imagine how it’ll play out: Rin tells Sae that you’re harassing him, Sae stops being your friend, and you’ll probably have to drop out and move out of the country. Rin might never even show himself to you again, and that thought alone makes your throat tighten up.

However, before you can descend into further madness, if that’s even possible, your phone vibrates again. You swallow the needles in your throat and peek through the cracks between your fingers.

[Sae’s Brother!!!]: Looks nice.

And, to your surprise, there’s an image attached to the text. It’s a dim photo of his opened textbook, a filled in study guide sheet beside his laptop, and on the right side of his desk is a drink from the cafe. You want to make a dumb oolong tea joke, but now you feel bad for disrupting his study session.

Then, another notification comes through.

[Sae’s Brother!!!]: Miss you too. :P

Your heart promptly multiplies into a thousand pieces. You lean into the chair, almost tipping yourself over. Your heart’s beating so hard that you can practically feel it pulse against your temples. Taking deep breaths, you don’t look at your phone until the urge to run away fades.

It feels like you're dreaming, and you know it’s absolutely stupid and silly, that you feel like you’re floating right into a dumb romance drama right now, but you can’t help it. Not when Rin is pulling stunts like this. He probably meant it as a joke, maybe only responded back to mirror you, who knows. But someone like him should not have the power to be so, so adorable under all that hard exterior. That’s just illegal…

“God,” your breath shudders out and you thumb over the keyboard to respond back.

[You]: didn’t mean to send that to you haha… ;; [You]: but i take it that studying is going well??

Rin replies back within seconds.

[Sae’s Brother!!!]: I know. [Sae’s Brother!!!]: Studying’s been fine. Might need to look over something when we meet up again, if that’s okay. [You]: of course!! just lemme know what day works :)

Rin sends you a thumbs up emoji and you don’t get a response for a while after that, figuring that he probably went back to work. It doesn’t matter anyway, because it feels like a hundred pounds just got lifted from your shoulders and you feel so light that you’re convinced that you can see the stars even clearer now.

Thank the heavens he didn’t make it weirder than it already was.

Fuzzy-brained, you decide that it might be best to call it a night and retreat back into the house and towards your old bedroom. Even while laying down on your plush mattress, curled up, with the aircon on blast, you couldn’t fall asleep — at least, not for a long while.

By the time you pass out, it’s from sheer exhaustion and adrenaline rush. Your phone remains gripped against your chest as you sleep, and you end up missing another message from Rin late in the night.

[Sae’s Brother!!!]: Your manager doesn’t make good oolong. Come back soon.

There are several moments when you tell yourself you need to take a couple steps back. That you really, really need to calm down about Itoshi Rin.

The rest of the week comes and goes. You haven’t seen Rin in a few days. You guys sorta text, with him giving you curt updates on his assignments, but Rin goes long periods of time without replying. And, when he does reply, even though it’s just a text on screen, you get a distinct idea that he’s probably tired. So most of the time you end up lounging around at Sae’s apartment, busying yourself with your own assignments and bothering Sae about the end of the year assessment. And maybe you mope to him about his younger brother. Just a little bit.

“Does Rin hate me?”

“Why do you ask?” You could practically hear the eye roll in his response.

You feel a bit juvenile when you explain the reasoning, it’s obvious in your tone. “He’s, um, been kinda dry.”

“Is water dry?”

“...No?”

“Then there’s your answer,” Sae yawns and flips to the next page in whatever new psychological thriller novel he picked up. “Should feel lucky that he’s even responding back, I barely get an emoji out of him.”

Part of the fun thing about being friends with Sae is having full 24 hour access to his apartment. Whenever you’re running low on food, it doesn’t matter if it’s milk or potatoes, somehow there’s always extras at his place. The least fun thing about being friends with him is that he’s god awful at keeping up with conversations. Or, at least in this case, giving you advice on how to approach Rin appropriately.

You decide to change up the topic, slightly. Your mind’s currently running on three shots of espresso and one shitty breakfast sandwich from the dining hall, not really the best combo, and the words start flooding out. “On a different note, if someone you kinda just met shows a side of them that they’ve probably never shown to anyone, how would you react?”

Sae straightens from the couch, eyes flickering to you then back to the book. “Depends on who it is,” he shrugs. He doesn’t sound too interested in the conversation.

“Wise words, I see…” you hum in deep thought. You begin strutting around the tiny living room, circling around in front of the TV and keeping a somewhat watchful eye on Sae as you choose your next words carefully. “What if… it’s like a big thing? Super pent up for so long that they just start pouring all their emotions onto you? How would you react to that?”

“Sounds like a weird person. I would probably leave,” Sae’s voice is dismissive.

You groan, fully understanding Rin’s personal dilemma. “At least pretend to be serious right now!”

And, with that, he shuts his book and rests his cheek against his palm, sighing. “Maybe they told you because they’re afraid of talking to their close friends. Or maybe they just feel comfortable around you, I don’t know. Since you’re so caught up about this… who are you talking about?”

Shit, he caught on.

Sae hardens his gaze on you, suspicion sprawled across his sharp features.

“I—um, uh, it’s a classmate of mine! We were going over grad school applications and they seemed really lost about if they wanted to apply or not… I was just a little surprised when they started talking about their insecurities with me, that’s all. We’re a little bit closer now, though…” your voice trails off and Sae cocks his head a little, pursing his lips, but decides to leave the topic be.

“Right, well… how are Rin’s studies coming along?” Sae asks after a long pause and backs out of your space.

It’s not like Rin’s doing terribly at his studies. He’s picking up some of the methods and variables faster than most people in your department, perhaps even learning at a faster pace than yourself. Though, and this is just an observation, you’ve noticed that Rin rarely takes notes in his classes. When he does, well, it’s sloppy and unfocused. You’re starting to worry, since his midterm is rounding the corner, and you’ve been itching to ask if he remembers the material or if he doesn’t care. You want to, really, but it’s technically not your job to look after him full-time.

Unless it totally has something to do with the weird family dynamic that you can never really nail down? Yeah, you’re definitely not sticking your nose into that mud anytime soon. The last time you did that, well…

“He’s doing fine!” You offer up that much. It’s a little taste of honesty. Not the full truth. Somehow, you know that Sae is damn well aware of that, too.

“As long as he’s motivated, that’s all that really matters.” Sae mumbles. He drops the conversation and it’s probably a good thing, because you can’t concentrate at all.

By the end of this particular meeting, you feel like you’re going to vomit. Your stomach has jumped into your throat, and you’re struggling to keep your breakfast down. It’s way too late to call out of work, so you power through and manage to make it in time for your shift. It’s not until you arrive that you notice a familiar tuff of black hair behind the register, eyes glimmering with all flirt and talk with a female student across the counter.

Then, it hits you, if there’s one person other than Sae who can give mildly okay advice, it’s him.

When the evening rush dies down, you relay the situation back to Oliver, throwing on the crucial details—well, minus the kiss—unfortunately you can’t risk that information going out of his mouth. Unlike Sae, he shows interest from the get go, providing you live reactions and commentary as the story continues. When asked for his thoughts, Oliver covered his face and howled in laughter for a long while, getting stares from customers, before leaning in and eyes you very seriously.

“Kid’s got a massive crush on you, that’s for sure.”

Oliver is obviously a better listener compared to Sae, but also has a tendency to stretch things out for dramatic purposes. You should’ve mentally prepared yourself for this.

“Wait a sec,” Oliver sits on the countertop, despite the rules encouraging against it written on the chalkboard behind him, ponders hard for a moment, and then, “You like him!”

You almost spill a shot of espresso all over your fingers, letting out a small screech, and look up, doing a bit of a double take at your friend. “Don’t you have better jokes to make?!”

Oliver tosses you a clean towel from underneath the counter space and offers an apologetic smile, but he looks amused. “You wanted my honest opinion. Hot, young stud falls for his tutor who also works as a barista? The prompt just writes for itself.”

You swallow a gagging noise. “Please don’t ever refer to Rin as a hot, young stud… even if it is true.”

“If we want to peel back several more layers, maybe this is all part of Sae’s elaborate plan to hook you up with someone.”

“Can’t you have another family emergency again?” You like Oliver. He’s possibly your only favorite coworker out of all the other part-timers, but you’re very unimpressed with him right now. “I’m still in college. You’re acting like I’m going to be forever alone, or something.”

“While that might be true,” Oliver agrees, mildly. “I still think the kid might just be bad with… y’know, showing emotions.” He motions his hands in a heart shape near his chest. “I was like that when I was his age, too.”

“Gross, now you’re just making yourself sound like an old man.” With that beard, it sure adds a few years to his face. No wonder he’s so popular with the ladies.

“You should be more honest with yourself,” he softly chastises, offering you a blueberry muffin that he definitely stole from the back. “Life would feel a lot easier.”

“You talk as if I’m a fictional character in some stupid story,” you sigh, gracefully accepting the baked good in defeat.

There’s a part of you that feels bitter after the conversation, afraid that he’s right. You’ve been solely focusing on your academics for the most part, and that’s not to say that you haven’t had others showing interest in you.

You remembered Oliver hounding you down on your very first day at the coffee shop, trying to get your attention by making you clean up his spills, not sure why he thought that was a good idea… Another guy from your department also tried hitting asking you out by creating a fake math problem that would eventually lead to him asking for your number, but the variables were messed up and all over the place that it didn’t make any sense.

You don’t put relationships on a high pedestal, and you don’t necessarily need to be in one right now. Maintaining a steady income and keeping your scholarship should be your top priority. That, and not falling for your best friend’s brother.

Things go uneventfully for a little while longer at the shop. You and Oliver were going to put on the latest episode of the Bachelor to pass the remaining shift but, by the time you were just about to finish setting up the monitor, the front door bell chimes.

You blink. You and Oliver are in the corner tucked at the back of the store. It’s ten minutes until closing and your stomach churns wildly at the thought of another inconsiderate customer. Because if it happens to be another frat guy ordering a “secret menu” item that some person made up on TikTok again… well, you’re gonna start crying.

“I’ll go take care of it,” you sigh, fishing out the store’s keys out of your pocket. “Just tell me who the guy ends up with.”

Oliver grins as he presses the play button. “Roger that, boss.”

You hadn’t really expected to see Itoshi Rin of all people to swing by.

He barely gets any words out when you emerge to the front counter, needless to say you were the same. After a few mindless scrabbling around and awkward shifting, Rin spits out that he needs an emergency tutoring session, back at his apartment of all places. And, at some point in the night, between your mind turning into mush and Rin refusing to look you in the eyes, Oliver sends you off a little early before you have the chance to help him close.

Which ultimately leads you off here.

“So, what’s the burning question you have for me?” you ask, setting down your book bag on the floor.

Rin’s apartment is a lot minimalistic compared to yours, and more on the traditional side. His place is a bit further out of the downtown area, into the quieter parts of Tokyo, but not terribly far from the school’s public transit. Here, the buildings aren’t skyscrapers and the traffic is manageable, which means a lot more parks and greenery.

Instead of a dining table with chairs, he opted for a low coffee table and cushions instead. There’s tatami flooring, a small bookshelf in the corner with organized sports magazines, textbooks, and a few horror films. Hanging on the walls are a variety of posters; most of them are famous foreign football players and some are a few popular movie covers.

The coffee table is placed right near his bedside, so it makes a perfect back rest for you. Rin keeps a small desk lamp on, he’s mentioned to you in passing that small amounts of warm lighting helps him focus. This setup is certainly a lot more comfortable compared to yours.

Rin decides to sit next to you this time, pulling out an array of notebooks from his bag and fidgets with his pens on the table before flipping to his last pages of notes. “It’s about… torque and resistance.” He buries half of his face into his palm as his fingers trace, almost obsessively, through the notes. From one glance, his writing looks coherent enough, better from when he first started out.

“Um, yeah, sure,” you keep a close eye on him. Rin is behaving rather strangely. Restless, agitated, annoyed, or a combination of all three. Though, a minute into the small lecture, Rin softly calls out your name. “Y-Yes?” you can begin to feel your neck growing dangerously hot.

“About that night, last week…” he finally pushes the words out, but lets them hang in the air, inconclusive.

Your cheeks flare up, and you turn away, clearly embarrassed. Suddenly, you feel like a complete idiot all over again. “I—I’m sorry about that,” you stammer out, staring down at your fingers. “I don’t know what came over me, everything was so dark and—”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he consoles, quickly. “I’m glad that it happened. It was… I… it was good.”

It’s a bit of a rambling response, but it leaves you stunned and flustered, without even realizing it. You finally turn to look at him, eyes a little misty, your cheeks still warm. You’re relieved by Rin’s reply. You open your mouth to respond back, but nothing tangible comes out.

“I want it to happen again,” Rin finds himself saying, tone suddenly low and dark. He shoots you a look, one that you can’t quite interpret. It’s like he’s hovering somewhere between concern and fear that he’s pushing too far. And maybe he is, but you are too.

You let your legs slip out from underneath and you lean up against Rin’s bed. If it wasn’t there, you’d collapse for sure.

Rin follows suit but pulls away from you abruptly, and you manage to look up just in time to catch the flush in his cheeks and neck. It’s hard to see it in the dark but, if Rin’s body language is anything to go by, he’s incredibly embarrassed.

“Are you okay?” His voice is quiet, and you manage a shaky nod, but that nod is immediately followed by another involuntary sound from the back of your throat.

“I, um, should we tell…?”

You’re not entirely sure where Rin stands with his relationship with Sae, nor if both of you can predict the outcome of what would happen. Sae is still a close friend, but you can’t hide the fact that you like Rin away from him forever. Plus, would this even realistically work out? Graduate school, job interviews, things of that sort aren’t in Rin’s horizons, but…

“We don’t have to do anything right now,” he seems to catch on and clears his throat, looking away. “I just wanted to make my feelings clear.”

You briefly think back to Oliver’s advice earlier in the night, about being more honest with your feelings. How things will magically become easier. It’ll be unfair if you didn’t pour out your heart like Rin had done just now. But words can’t be the only way of showing your honesty.

“We can take it slowly,” you stumble out.

Screw it, maybe you can ask Sae for a favor after you’re done tutoring.

Those words seem to melt Rin’s hard exterior almost instantly. Wrapping both your arms around his neck, you press a chaste kiss to his inviting lips.

Rin doesn’t say anything else, but there’s another little teasing nudge of his shoulder bumping against yours, and it somehow communicates more than it should.

taglist: @hellothere9597 @itzmeme @scaraslover @kidd3ath @torureadz

a/n: hi again everyone... if you've made it this far - thank you ;; this piece might just be the longest fic i've ever written (to date...) and tbh im not sure if i like it ? maybe i do idk!! there were so many times i wanted to throw my laptop against the wall gaah did you know that i originally wanted sae to come in and interrupt towards the end? thank god i didnt otherwise our two main love birds wouldn't have been able to kiss... anyways, ty for reading and hopefully you'll see me around more <3 <3 ty i love you

#blue lock #doobea writing #bllk #blue lock imagines #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #blue lock x gn reader

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sunfortune · 2 months

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hiiii i recently watched kanthony (the so called bridgerton show or whatever) and was wondering if u have any fic recs... 👉👈🤭

okay i litchrally have never compiled a list even tho ive been asked before bc i have read too many to keep them organized. but ill do it. Finally. for YOU.

first. my fav period setting fics <33:

tete a tete by caciopepebowl (14k~) this is REQUIRED reading to ME. its a quick read that explores kate and anthonys roles in their family. with an emphasis on KATE specifically bc of the additional hurdles of being a woman with limited funds. and anthony losing his mind on her behalf while shes breaking his heart by being like "the way i was treated was normal?? you dont know anything" and hes like "what? kate you deserved everything. you deserve ALL the love in the world!!" and shes all ">:( well if i do. you do too." . and hes like "oh. well...no. you see.. bc i suck" and shes like -_-. its really sweeeeeet and lovely <3) and really finally gave me the exploring of kates family issues that THE SHOW DID NOT!!!

the longest betrothal by caciopepebowl. (90k~) my FAVVVVV regency setting fic. its sooo good. its basically a continuation that fills in the gap AFTER they get engaged but BEFORE theyre married. and them trying SO hard to be normal about how in love they are lol. SO funny and sweet. and with IMMACULATE characterization

in vino veritas by wagamiller. (~10k) a one shot about kate going to a ladies society event and coming home drunk to anthony and him being soooo smitten with her. sauuuur cute. ive read this like 4 times <3

for reasons wretched and divine by penny_loaf. (~18k. locked fic. need an account.) basically kate and anthony get stuck in a time loop on that first day edwina is receiving suiters. they both think theyre alone in the loop and its depressing until they realize the other is stuck with them too. they try to break the loop and fail repeatedly. after a while they just give up and start fucking bc theres no consequences so who cares LOL. surprisingly tender and sweet

the harsh light of day by burnerraccount. (~22k. locked) explicit one shot. kate has the idea that they should fuck before they get married so theres less pressure on the wedding night. she decides all this without mentioning it to anthony (LOL). so she shows up at his house the night before their wedding. and his footman is like "theres a woman outside to see you" and he in all his goofy almost-married bliss is like "i dont want to see Any woman but my gorgeous, beautiful, amazing WIFE" and his footman is like "well. you see.. it is your wife. uh fiance" and anthonys like "[voice crack] huh ?". very FUNNY

green in its many hues by burnerraccount. kate and anthony decide they are going to be chaste and proper leading up to their wedding. they suck at it SO bad lol

next. modern AUS my best friends <33:

la semi dolce vita by caciopepebowl (~170k) my FAVVVV modern au of ALL time. kate is a private chef. anthonys family hires her when they go on vacation. hes being so normal about it. i promise. this is one of the best characterizations of kate AND anthony in a modern setting. with an extra emphasis on focusing on kate issues. and not JUST anthonys. which is what makes the dynamic sooo good. 10/10. hot. and i love LOVE <3

close encounters of the acutest kind by caciopepebowl (WIP ~74k. only incomplete fic ill put on this list i PROMMY. bc its by the prev author. and i Looove their writing and its sooo good so far <3) kate and anthony meet for the first time the DAY her dad died which is also the SAME DAY hyacinth is born. theyre both having a panic attack and end up running into the same empty hospital room to have it. are then intrinsically linked forever. as one is. run into each other multiple times over the years. with different feelings each time. and they are so normal (lying) <3. i love them

chosen & cherished by trash4ficsaboutlurv. (~42k) this is so underrated. kate runs a charity organization. anthony is CEO of whatever the fuck. she goes to his company when theyre holding some audition for what charity theyre going to invest in and kate is the last speaker and when its finally her turn he doesnt even pay attention. and shes exhausted and overworked and just oveeeer it All. so she just ends the meeting and tells him to go fuck himself. LOL. genuinely really good. and hot <3

sidelines by ramarro. (~60k) this was THE quintessential kanthony modern AU in 2022. took a far fetched premise and somehow made it soooo good. and hot. and cute. kates an artist who sees a picture of anthony on tinder and thinks he looks obnoxious (lol) but screenshots the photo so she can use it for sketching practice. and then she see him and his grown ass on a date with her BABY sister. and shes like well i was right about him. and lets him know to his face how she feels (LOL). its wild. it slays. read it. theres an explicit follow up to it which also slays

three cities and we never lived here by ramarro. (~25k, ~40k) very different modern au where kate and anthony meet on vacation and are very casual with them both not looking for anything (genuinely for once lol) and then seeing each other multiple times over 2-3 years in different cities and still keeping it casual. but slowly slowly slowlyyyy it doesnt feel as casual as it used to. theres 2 fics in this. the first is kates pov. the second is anthony. both very good.

just go with it by suitsusboth. (~18k) kate when booking a flight sees the potential titles like ms, mrs, dr, and "viscountess" listed as a legit option and has a laugh like whos picking this goofy shit and accidentally clicks it. and then on her flight gets upgraded to first class next to anthony bc they assumed she was his wife. and he tries to be mad about it. but well. hes stupid for her in every universe so lol. funny and sweet

the air i breathe and the bane of my existance by the_loosest_moose. (image fic) these are textfics told through instagram, twitter, article and text message screenshots. with some regular text. would just check them out to gauge how you feel about the storytelling method. very fun reads once you get the hang of it

heirlooms by waterlilyrose. (~12k) modern au where kate gets anthonys ring stuck on her finger for days and has to wait to get it off. he is of course very normal about it

a devils love by irony_rocks. (~57k) this may not be for everyone but kanthony season came out around the same time as the batman (2022) and as someone who was crazy insane about both. this was the MOMENT for me in spring 2022. its a crime mafia type au where kates character is inspired by selina kyle and the pebble lounge where she worked in the batman movie. and well. if youre about that specific combo check it out. if you arent i wouldnt recommend this lmao. its not a batman au

break point (series) by penny_loaf. (multiple. ~25k) like prev this entire series gets kind of dark bc it really delves into the pressure of the world its set in. on TOP of the issues kate and anthony already have. i LOVED it. BUT also i am an ANGST and crazy, complicated characters STAN. which may not be the case for everyone.. but again very GORGEOUS to ME <3 and hot. LOL

take me home by kendal_lynne. (~12k) romcom type explicit one shot where kate makes the mistake of telling anthony her ex couldnt make her come. and hes all like i volunteer as tribute PLEASE PKLEASE PLEASE PICK ME CHOOSE ME PLWASEE etc

we never made a sound by writergirl8. (~4k) spy au that was soooooo good and sexy. i wish it was longer

with elaichi by serendipityinwords (~6k) the two biggest bitches at a dinner party find out they're soulmates. LOL. hilarious dialogue

theres probably more i loved that im not remembering rn and maybe ill update this but for now have fun! yippee <3

#to everyone who doesnt gaf sorry for this long ass post #to everyone who does care this took 3 HOURS dont ever say i never did anything for youuuyuyu!!!#bridgerton #kanthony fic #kanthony fanfiction #kanthony #LONG POST #bridgerton*

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nochukoo97 · 1 year

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boyfriend drabbles (pt.1)

pairing: Jungkook x reader

summary: fluff omg, jk being a cute bf, painting each others nails and its just basically cute stuff HAHA

word count: 600+

boyfriend drabbles masterlist!

Ever since you and Jungkook had started dating three years ago, he became a major part of your daily life, and even on days where he would not be able to see you in person, your boyfriend would always make the effort to give you a call and whisper sweet nothings into the phone.

One of your adopted habits was to include your boyfriend in every aspect of your life. Whether it was a casual get-together with your own circle of friends or any other social event, you had an inclination to bring Jungkook along with you, a gesture that he wholeheartedly embraced, never once expressing reluctance or complaint.

In this case, Jungkook finds himself trailing behind you and your best friend, Sohee, as the both of you enter the familiar shop. A subtle wince crosses his face as he observes the two of you quickening your pace, your excited squeals filling the air upon reaching closer to the rows of products displayed before you.

Jungkook watches as the both of you light up upon noticing a small booth, remembering you had mentioned once about that particular brand. A quiet hum leaves his mouth as he watches the both of you excitedly swatch the different shades of eyeshadow, but to him, they look exactly the same shade.

—

“___, I’m gonna go to the toilet, wait for me here okay? Don’t you dare to try other stuff without me,” Sohee raises a finger at you playfully as she walks off. Now it’s only you and Jungkook, and your boyfriend is more than content to finally get some of your attention.

“Jagi,” Jungkook whines as he leans down to peck you on the lips, you chuckle as you reach up to ruffle his hair in sympathy. Poor boy, you thought.

“If we stay here any longer I’m literally going to go insane,” He whines, eyes adverting to your hand filled with various makeup products smeared onto your skin.

“I promise we’ll be quick,” A laugh sounds out from your mouth at his exasperated state, as Jungkook sighs, mentally cursing at himself for not charging his phone the night before, now that it’s battery had gone flat.

You begin to test out more shades where you and Sohee had left off, not leaving anywhere else, but it seems as though your boyfriend had other plans.

“Hey!” You gasp as Jungkook gently tugs on your arm, forcing you to follow along behind him as he trudges towards another aisle.

“Baby, what are you doing?” You question his sudden actions when your boyfriend reaches for the nail polish tester and raises your hand to paint your index finger oh-so-gently, his brows furrowed as he tries his best to paint within the nail. You begin to laugh at Jungkook’s sudden actions, but he cuts you off, “Jagi, stop moving, you’re gonna make me mess up,”

After he’s done painting your fingernail, Jungkook looks contented at his little artwork on your nail, and then he proceeds to attempt to paint his own finger too, but it’s harder for him when he attempts to use his non-dominant hand to paint. A disgruntled sound emits from his mouth, eyebrows furrowing as you grab the nail polish from his hand to do it yourself.

“I should have known you would betray me for you man,” You hear Sohee dramatically sigh as she approaches the both of you, Jungkook sticking his tongue out at her as she rolls her eyes.

Even though you and Sohee had spent at least another good twenty minutes in that store, your boyfriend didn’t mind as he held your hand the whole time, sometimes hugging you from behind and leaning his head on your shoulder as your best friend clearly annoyed from the third-wheeling.

a/n: hello!! i kinda wrote this in a rush without really planning so it might not be the best but its really short anyways haha, i realised i havent been putting a note at the end of my fics recently 😭 and i want to talk with you guys more! i also def need more inspo to write more scenarios so if you guys have any pleasee send an ask to me ❤️

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #bts #bts ff #bts fic #jungkook comfort #boyfriend jungkook

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cloveroctobers · 3 months

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FEBRUARY FLUFF — CARMY BERZATTO.

A/N: so carmy won this time around!!! Thanks to all those that voted and ultimately made this decision for me lol. Hope you guys enjoy this and have a safe, healthy, and happy love season 🩷 + yes this is a mixture of fluff and angst...i mean come on! I wouldn't be me if i didn't include that in here somewhere!

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + HERE & I’m using: 1. “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.” “What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?” + always giving the other the first bite of their food < or the last.

WARNINGS/SN: I wrote with a black or brown reader in mind although reader isn't physically described + they’re given a name only when mentioned, language is a thing here duh!, this is LENGTHY, lots of timelines: reader + nat became friendly before season 1 during the summer prior to 7 fishes which is estimated to be five years before season 2, reader knows of carmy due to past work, I feel like she can be just a few year(s) older than carmy but younger than nat—there’s a age gap for the Berzatto’s anyways, sexual relations are mentioned, this piece takes place months after the grand opening, & finally there’s a possible chance for a poly relationship or maybe just multiple crushes going on? Take that how you will.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

it was a Sunday.

The kind of Sunday you woke up embarrassed about but knew you had to swallow your pride and just send out that text. You knew you wouldn’t be judged regardless reaching out to Fak because he’s built to deal with things like this and never made you feel like shit about anything.

You usually had to squeeze it out of him to get him to lay out any cons about a situation but appreciated most times when he didn’t. Your minds been going haywire with a recent assignment as a food journalist and it really slipped your mind, although you were usually a quick thinker, you’ve been stressed over this recent restaurant. Thankfully it clicked for you after throwing a tantrum to simply reach out to Fak to come help you out.

The stupid lever in your bathroom decided to stop flushing on you and of course you panicked. Who wouldn’t panic in a situation like that? You no longer had a roommate and strongly debated if you even wanted to search for another; after the shady actions of the previous one, so you really didn’t have to worry about them giving you shit either. (Let’s see if your rent feels the same next month!)

It was just you in the end and perhaps you were learning to be okay with that.

Yet that didn’t stop you from FaceTiming Sydney about it. “Hey Siddy, how’s your day going?”

“Pretty good, yours?” She politely asked as she moved down the hallway of her shared apartment to prop her phone on the pedestal sink, moving around her functioning bathroom to grab some oil to grease her scalp.

Smacking your lips you glare, “it fucking sucks.”

“Oh?” Sydney questioned, appearing back in frame, “what happened? Did someone egg and scratch up your car again after a review you gave them? Noo wait, don’t tell me there’s a bullet hole?!”

That was light work compared to New York (it really wasn’t a competition of which state had its worst moments but your home state left you kinda triggered, not gonna lie!) where you were just starting off and those that were in tune with the culinary world didn’t take your words with a grain of salt. Most nights you still woke up gasping for air, reaching for your throat due to some trauma of a break in from a well-known nepo-baby chef. Don’t get that twisted, your mom didn’t raise no punk but that didn’t mean those events didn’t mess with your mental and you acknowledged that every time you had a nightmare. They only served three years and five months compared to the original five year sentence.

Ah the system…got to love how that works out for the privileged!

You shrugged, “no…the threats have been pretty tame lately so I can give myself a pat on the back for that. However! I still am in a crisis.”

Sydney begins to move her braids around to expose her scalp, “Elaborate for me.”

“My toilet won’t flush!” You whine, laying flat on your messy bed. You tended to not make your bed on Saturdays and didn’t get around to making it today—although it was after 3pm.

Sydney asks, “Like the waste won’t go down…?”

“Exactly!” You confirm throwing your arm over your eyes dramatically, “The lever thing is moving like my old dislocated shoulder.”

Sydney gags, “don’t fucking remind me of that day. That was spooky to witness but I am glad you healed from that.”

“Thanks girl, means a lot, truly.”

Sydney gives a small smile, “don’t mention it…have you considered YouTubing it? That’s what I do when I don’t want to ask anyone for help and figure it out by myself.”

You hummed knowing this was true. In a sense you could be like that too, especially when it came to the working field, since writers can tend to be some nasty bitches and always in rivalry with each other. You made a name for yourself in Chicago as well, coming from New York where you worked just as hard-maybe even harder than the rest to mean and write exactly how you felt about cuisine, regardless if anyone agreed or not. It wasn’t about if people liked you, the relationship with food would always be more significant and hold value in your life, just like the rest of these chef’s you encountered and you got that, people were allowed to be sensitive about their work. You’ve come toe to toe with many chef’s around the world who didn’t like your take on their craft but that didn’t mean you didn’t understand them. They hardly took the time to really dive into your ratings and automatically took it as you shit talking or not having any idea what you were saying since you “weren’t really a chef,” but you knew your worth most days.

Yes you could be straight forward but that didn’t mean you lacked compassion like some chef’s liked to think according to your reviews. You often wrote in a way that was puzzling to some, almost philosophical or riddle like with your own twist. Some just didn’t get it and that was okay but you wouldn’t back down from any confrontation. The second they didn’t want to really listen, that’s when you removed yourself from the escalating problem. It didn’t have to get violent like some wanted to inflict.

“Why didn’t I think of that?!” You exasperated, slapping the palm of your hand to your forehead.

Sydney snorted, “maybe because you’re under a lot of pressure lately and the most simplest of things don’t come as easily as they should.”

“You would think I have high blood pressure with the way these past two weeks have been.”

Sydney says, “give it time.”

“Gee, thanks! That’s exactly the kind of shit I want to hear from you.” You roll your eyes at the blurt of words that commonly escaped the braided girl’s mouth.

Sydney breathes out a laugh, “I’m just joking!”

“Yeah, yeah! Maybe I should text fak back and tell him not to come by!”

“You asked fak instead of the apartment manager?” Sydney is in amazement.

“Fuck that noise, he’s so full of shit that he should see a doctor about it. He’ll show up to analyze the problem, then acts like he’s going to fit you into the schedule and then when you catch him in the lobby he pretends that he has amnesia.” You commented with a scowl.

You get ready to minimize the call to text fak but some obnoxious knocks at the door made you pop up from your bed. “That was fast!”

Hopping up from the bed and padding out of the last bedroom in the apartment, you made the journey through the foyer to the awaiting black front door. Peeking through the peephole you spot Fak grinning widely up into it, almost making you jump back.

“He’s made it Siddy! I’ll call you back!”

“K. Good luck!” Sydney calls out before you end the call to pull the door wide open.

“Neil!” You scream, quickly latching onto his tatted wrist ready to yank him in until you notice someone else is with him, “…why is he here?” You point.

Fak quickly glances over at a brimmed Carmy who raised a brow at him in a silent told you so manner, “I mean we were having a boy’s day when you called and I didn’t want my buddy to be left out. Plus, it’s always great to have some assistance.”

“…i find it hard to believe that Carmen wants to fix my toilet.” You cross your arms, poking out your hip as you stare at him.

Carmen shrugs his shoulders, “I wanted to wait in the car if it makes you feel any better.”

“Hmm…it doesn’t.”

Carmy rolls his eyes, pinching at the bridge of his nose briefly in agitation, “you know what, fak you’ve got this right? I know you do so—

“Nope!” Fak quickly interrupts, “this maybe a two person job so aspie if you just let us do what we came to do—

Shooting an arm out to block the doorway you peer into Fak’s dark teal eyes to show you mean business, “didn’t I say I dislike that nickname, Neil?”

He nods.

“Also i find it offensive that you brought an uninvited guest to my place.”

“Just be glad it wasn’t Richie because that was also a possibility before he ran off to pick up the kid.” Carmy snaps making you roll your eyes.

If Richie was here you been would have slammed the door in both Fak and his face. Sure you had some sort of tension with Carmy and beef with .......his cousin but at least Carmy only gave it back to you when he had the energy to—meaning if he was already on one. The issue was simple, you wrote a not so nice review once before when the eldest berzatto, Michael was alive and running the joint. Richie couldn’t forget that and actually kept the clipping, yes the clipping of the review way back when. He had the receipts to show Carmy and Carmy actually brushed it off then, not seeming to really care or doubt some of the words that were said.

He came to revamp the place because Mikey left it for him, to fix the mess his big brother left behind, to create what they’ve always dreamed of. Sure he got shit for it in the beginning and part of him felt like maybe that was your case too? He could relate to you on that, yet the weight was slightly different on his part and he even spoke with you not long after he found those tomato cans.

That gave him a certain push he couldn’t really explain. He may have done a brief dive on you, wondering why you felt acquainted to him—completely forgetting about seeing you once around Noma—choosing to start with reading previous reviews by you on other restaurants here in Chicago and a few interviews you’ve done over the world. You weren’t just some nobody, you held your titles well and it reflected in your work.

You weren’t clueless.

He just didn’t really know what he was dealing with until a short time ago.

What he didn’t expect was for you to show up again on opening night with a certain head chef, also from New York. That made carmy more anxious than anything, seeing you sitting beside that four eyed fuck ready to set off a tornado in the heart of the bear. Was that your motive all along? With carmy attempting to build a bridge, not for you to kiss his ass with praise but there was a odd need to have a simple conversation with you. It was weird but it seemed like Sydney, Fak, and Nat liked you?

The jury was still out with the rest—except Richie but you were a mystery to Carmy. However carmy wasn’t the best at putting a read on people or their emotions in the first place, he was good at fucking that up unless you’re screaming it into his face. That’s just how he operated.

“You two can come in—only because I don’t have the patience with the manager here and Neil’s the best I’m gonna get.” You state while fak slaps a hand on his chest.

“That was really sweet, Aspen.” Fak cooed ready to pull you into a bone crushing hug but you hold up a finger.

“Save the hugs until after you fix my problem.”

“You got it boss,” Fak salutes before diving under your arm to travel through your apartment, ooo-ing and ah-ing before finding the bathroom around the corner from the living room.

Sighing you drop your arm and wave carmy through, who keeps his view straight while traveling through the hallway. You call out to him, “you can have a seat on the couch.”

“What? Did you drop a load or something and is that the real reason why you don’t want me to help Fak?” Carmy comes right out with it, nose twitching in amusement after whipping around to face you in the center of the living room.

See…only when he’s frustrated or overly focused will he just let it out. Some may look at this as Carmy attempting to make a joke but you took that somewhat personally. The only thing you were thinking after he said this was: What an ego on this one huh?

You stop on your heels and tilt your head to the side, “are you telling me that you think women or fem pronoun users don’t take shits? Do you know what it feels like to have period shits?”

Carmy blinks at you and shouts with his hands out, “I...don't even know what the fuck you're getting at? I wasn't even trying to be sexist to you just then! I asked you a honest question—

“About you being in my business,” you pointed out, “contrary to your beliefs I have a heart and decided to be nice to you and let you stay in my place to keep warm. You’re welcome!”

“Oh bullshit, don’t act like you’re doin’ me any favors.” Carmy scowls, “you don’t even want me here.”

You shrug, “yet you’re here in my apartment, yelling.”

Carmy exhaled while you smirked at him sweetly before turning to lean against the wall that leads to the bathroom.

“Everything okay in there, Neil?”

“Oh yeah!” He says, “I think I figured out the problem. Easy peasy!”

“Great!” You exclaim, pulling your phone out from your sweats to read a very important email.

The weight of stress seemed to lift a good chunk as you quickly responded to a email that you’ve been waiting for. You’ve been invited out (squeezed in) to a taste test at this restaurant for this evening that you’ve been trying to get into for a month before you brought it up to your employer. The deadline was approaching for the end of this week to have a review ready and they just responded to you five days before that deadline! Reading over it twice, the squeal in you slipped through your smile until you read the exceptions.

If you were to go over the amount of food purchased, which you would put on the company card anyways, you can get a discount if you brought a plus one and some reimbursement if the review was satisfactory to the owners—which the last part wasn’t unfamiliar to you.

You usually didn’t bring a plus one to any of the places you did reviews for, you got comfortable doing outings all on your own but this was different. Sure you were somewhat known in the culinary world but that didn’t mean you were a millionaire and this restaurant was apparently upscale. There was a waiting list regardless of your status—even for the celebrities that went there so this was a big deal and they gave you a short notice. Usually Sundays were known for a reset for the week but what better way to start it?

You don’t go forward with reaching out to anybody else that you work with. This was your battle and you were aware that two of your other co-workers also reached out to this restaurant. You just hoped you were the only one they picked and wouldn’t miss out on the great opportunity just because you weren’t sure about your guest.

A few hours before show time and you had to find somebody to attend with you. Your best friend was away in Cabo for a honeymoon, the other (who recently planned on moving to ATL) was dealing with the flu and had their no good ex boyfriend taking care of them, Sydney was suddenly MIA, and you even considered inviting Natalie Berzatto to piss carmy off just a bit.

“Hey, Nat!” You greet into the phone as you walk into the kitchen, witnessing Carmy perk up from the couch.

It’s small talk at first: you asking about how her day is going as a mom to be, if she’s going to be at the bear tomorrow, did she watch the Emmy’s the other night, tell her husband you said hello, and then finally if she had plans for tonight.

“…are you asking me to hang out?”

“We had fun at that club way back when no?”

“Yeah! But that was how long ago?”

You knew it’s been awhile. You were always friendly with Natalie, meeting her first—well second out of the siblings down at the small mart one summer you helped out at that your great-uncle owned. She was huffing about something her boyfriend at the time, Pete forgot to bring her and some groceries she was picking up for her mom. You were cool enough to become Facebook friends, exchange numbers, go out for coffee and go to the club together. This wasn’t unusual to call each other randomly but you knew she commonly got shit from Michael and Richard about her talking and hanging out with you.

The thing about Natalie Berzatto is that she always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt. Yes she saw your review yet she kinda laughed about it initially but it was all fuck you’s from the other two loud mouth’s. Of course she was going to listen to her brother but she still had a mind of her own. she didn’t care to listen to Richie go off but she understood how Michael felt, although she was the only other Berzatto that heard you out.

Except you didn’t owe anybody an explanation even if some felt you were more cutthroat in your younger years.

“...Before you and Pete even thought about marriage?”

You were younger than them but you imagined how it would always work out for Nat and Pete, which included growing old together.

“Wow! Yeah that sounds right.”

“So…?”

“Can’t do it.”

“You didn’t even hear all the details!”

“I know, I know and it sounds like it’ll be a real fucking blast but if this kid wasn’t sitting on my sciatic nerve constantly and if my feet weren’t the size of two honeydews…I totally would! But I’ll have to decline this time around—so please don’t hate me!”

“I could never!”

“You know you could always ask carmy-

“Why on earth would I do that?” Your reply was instant.

Natalie sighed over the phone, “aspen…the potential of friendship and love is a beautiful thing.”

You scrunched up your face at the phone before placing it back to your ear.

“Do you want me to hang up on you?”

“I’d call you a rude bitch if you did but then get over it.”

“I can live with that because I know it’s real love between you and I.”

“…whatever that means.”

“Right.”

You both laugh, knowing just how weird the subject of love can be. Although you didn’t talk all the time it was always okay for one of the other to drop a venting text or call each other’s way and know the other would get around to responding. The both of you may not be the best of friends but you did consider each other friends regardless. There were conversations between the both of you that no one knew about and would be a constant reminder of what kind of friends the both of you would remain.

Natalie wished things could have been resolved between you and Michael but she reassured that the dislike wasn’t as deep as it seemed. There was no secret that you felt awful about how his life ended and being there for nat during that time also meant a lot. She told you that one of the last conversations she had with Michael was about you and it felt as if he was learning to let go of your review, slowly taking in Nat’s words of you not having a cruel bone in your body especially with all that you’ve done for her.

Anybody that showed his sister true friendship couldn’t be complete garbage. As much as he tolerated Pete, Michael was always aware that he was good enough for his sister. They were all cut from different cloths and the Berzatto’s were just from the same but opposite corner’s.

Natalie telling you this was not to erase any worries you had since that is always brought to the surface when someone you’ve been face to face with before decides to end it all. It was to show you that nobody ever truly knows what anyone is thinking whether there is love there or not.

You can feel Natalie smiling through the phone, “Think about it…all that tension could be smoothed out if you extend the olive branch…now it’s your turn.”

“It’s not my fault he switched up on me after your opening night.” You didn’t lower your voice or make it louder but you were definitely staring at carmy now who was side eyeing you, looking like phineas from phineas and ferb.

“That’s something you need to talk to him about, don’t you think?” Her tone was always so gentle that it made you sick sometimes because she could be right.

“I’m not here to do think pieces.”

“…aren’t you a writer?”

“Have a good night, nat.”

“Ta-Ta!” Natalie sing-songs, “be sure to send me the deets later because carmy never tells me anything! Bye! Chat later!”

Hanging up the phone, you slide it onto the counter and tap your nails against the island. To the right of you, you pick up on some clinking in the bathroom—which sounds somewhat normal and zone in on carmy who’s also holding onto his phone but staring at the blank tv in thought.

“Hey, Carmen.” You call his name.

His bright blues turn to you as if he hasn’t been eavesdropping on your conversation here and there between his texts with Marcus.

“You. Me. The Saffron Simmer. 7pm.”

The air is frigid as the both of you hunch your shoulders shoving through Chicago’s winter. Shockingly the streets are filled with cars tonight so you had to park on the next street over before walking up and around to The Saffron Simmer. Carmy offered to drive, which was a debate—no shock there—since there was no way he was leaving the bear stock van behind for no license having fak to play around in.

Fak definitely found that offensive and said he didn’t mind hanging out at your place, being done with your toilet but with the look you sent him he said he’s find an Uber or fak2 can pick him up. It’s not like you didn’t trust fak in your place…it’s just that the possibilities of what he can get into are endless.

You also didn’t want to ride in the bear’s van not because of shallow reasons, you just wanted to annoy carmy just a bit more for fun. Walking mostly everywhere was the way to go growing up in New York and Carmy working there so doing so here in Chicago wasnt foreign either. However with the type of cold here in this city is enough to give the bravest of hearts hypothermia. So obviously driving was the best option, it’s just the petty back and forth between you two of who will drive had to be spewed.

Eventually you gave in and sat in the passenger side of the van, being on DJ duty for the twenty-five minute drive—something carmy didn’t care to argue over. The both of you made it on time, throwing the door back for carmy to catch then bouncing on your toes while he blew into his gloveless hands waiting on the greeter to find your reservation.

The pictures didn’t do The saffron simmer any justice. There was so much to look at with its modernized speakeasy décor and the high ceilings did a superb job of making the both of you feel small in the spacious space. Thankfully the dress code was business casual so you didn’t have to go all out but you still put in the effort of looking your best in simple attire. You’re shrugging out of your scarf, earmuffs, and puffer coat while Carmy is already seated; with only the removal of his cap across from you in a chair.

He’s watching you as you place everything neatly to the right of you before you're taking a seat in the leather oversized chair, then digging through your tote to pull out your notepad, Sony camera, phone, and bolt pen. You quickly scribble something on the first line and circle it before dropping your pen.

Rolling the sleeves of your long sleeves back underneath your blazer, you roll your shoulders with a close of your eyes before opening them with a look of determination.

“Wow, that was something.” Carmy tells you, making you set your eyes back on him, forgetting just that quick that he was your plus one.

Clasping your hands together you quirk up a brow, “What?”

“Watching you prep.”

You dip your head, “should have seen me before I got dressed…much worse.”

A smirk appears on the corner of Carmy’s lips, “oh yeah?”

“Well yes, I can contain myself in public, Carmen. Your home is supposed to be your safe space so that’s the best place to go a little crazy sometimes.” You inform, yet still not giving too much away.

“Why are you in your head about this place anyway?” Carmy peers around the slightly filled dining area before meeting your eyes once more.

You lift your shoulders, “have you seen the way they market this place? Giving not too much away although it’s top ten restaurants here and I can either contribute to its success or its downfall. They picked me for a reason so my review matters at the end of this year.”

“But you uh-get a thrill out of this shit don’t you? It’s what you signed up for, right?” Carmy is actually relaxed against the chair across from you.

Which is a sight to see.

You state, “it’s part of the job, if that’s what you mean.”

Carmy blinks and seems to get it, “and so you stay.”

“So I stay.” You echo while holding his stare, which is broken by a piece of the stone table lifting and showcasing the menu illuminated by sepia lighting in the dark of the restaurant.

Carmy’s bright eyes are wide as he stares at the menu that appears right in front of your faces. There’s a grin on your face as you rest your fingertips around its rough edges, almost as if you were expecting this while carmy blows out a breath.

“The hell is this place?”

You peek over at him, “some next level shit, berzatto.”

“Yeah…I think I’m starting to catch on.”

You turn your attention back to the menu, swiping your fingertips along the touch screen although you’ve heard things about the menu, which they kept offline since apparently it renews monthly.

“What looks good?”

“Uh…these pages aren’t even labeled." Carmy exhales through his nose, eyes searching all over the tablet, "I have no clue. You?”

The words come at ease for you, "One of almost everything maybe?”

“Sounds good...I guess?”

“On me by the way,” you state with a wink as you flash your company card.

“I’ll get the tip then.” Carmy pats his jeans, the left containing his carton of cigarettes, the right holding his keys, lifting his hips he checks for his wallet although he’s been sitting on his behind for about ten minutes now.

You don’t argue with that, eyes in awe at the selection of items as you start ordering, “don’t forget to order your drink.”

“Water should be fine,” Carmy mutters to himself, eyes scanning over the first strange title of water that is described as flower and ginger infused purified water and decides to go with that.

You finally express after rapidly letting your fingers go over the screen and taking a picture with your phone, “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.”

It sounded so easy to you as you quickly shifted to pick up your pen and start writing notes.

“What was that?” Carmy pressed his elbows into the edge of the table, making sure he heard you right since he’s not even sure if he can trust his inner thoughts lately.

You’re still scribbling but also turning your face towards the messy haired chef, “you heard me. We have to act like we’re in a relationship because I’ve definitely went over the budget on the card.”

“That’s not really my problem?”

“Yes it is,” you demand, “you agreed to be my plus one so that’s that. Plus this menu further confirmed my suspicions from the email.”

Carmy scratches at his brow confused, “what are you talking about, aspen?”

“Here,” you swipe across your screen towards Carmy’s device, which brings up another screen instantly to carmy who’s in awe but scans over the details.

You didn’t share the email with him but he’s heard about how high tech this restaurant is but didn’t have the time to do his own research.

*Significant others in attendance are subject to applicable discounts.*

Carmy feels his stomach cramp at the fine print and it so small that he was sure anyone could have missed that.

Not you.

“…how exactly are we supposed to prove that, hm?” He's gripping at his greasy hair now, feeling himself getting a bit worked up about this.

You fanned your hand along, “just do what couples do and follow my lead...Depending on our witnesses,” you whisper as you look around, “they could always assume that’s what we are anyways.”

Part of carmy didn’t like how that came off.

“What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?” Flies out of Carmy’s mouth before he can even process what he’s saying.

That stoops you too, making you press your back against the chair in thought. That wouldn’t be going down in the notes, as you stare at the pen in between your fingers for a moment. Which brings you back to Carmy’s tatted fingers first that touched you in ways that romance novelist craved to write about.

So you may have left that out, how a shared conversation about the “heartless” review of then Chicagoland turned the bear melted into hot and heavy actions in the front seat of your Mazda. It hits you in those same flashes you take of dishes: the unsure sloppy kisses, you taking the lead to get Carmy to just touch you, shaky hands that trace the tattoo from your rib cage down to your hip before soon holding steady and angled just right beneath your red tapered trousers.

“Where did that come from?” You question just as a server greets you, delivering drinks and announcing the small plates should be out in the next five minutes with a timer appearing on both of the stone tablets.

Carmy says, “you—you didn’t just think I forget right?”

“Well I was hoping.” You were honest, “neither of us are ready for relationships—especially hearing about you and Claire.”

Carmy felt his eye twitch, “and how do you know about that?”

Sydney.

You wouldn’t throw her under the bus like that although you could tell carmy already knew.

“I have my resources but don’t think I’ve been asking around about you or anything like that.” You sipped at the raspberry mint cocktail, it could be stronger.

His thumbs are shaking first on the table top but his icy stare made your chest pulsate in a way you didn't particularly like, “…would that be so bad?”

You and carmy didn’t exactly know each other well enough besides a conversation once had and with his hand down your pants! and you trying to get him to crash, clothes still on right in the center of his lap—It was a spur of the moment hookup and you could tell it was not something that happened often for carmy. He never had time for it or bothered to get attached but there was something about you that had him thinking otherwise. What was supposed to be a one time thing that you swept to the back of your mind was being brought up again.

The annoyance overtook what that feeling brought in the front seat of your ride. You weren’t ignoring carmy after that but the both of you had a lot on your plate with him renovating a restaurant and you diving back into your own work. Both fields of work seemed to matter more and not once did you think he ever thought about you in that way.

Communication was important people!

And here you thought he wanted nothing to do with you, especially with you showing up to the grand opening of The Bear. Now here you were months later, basically at your benefit, face to face hearing only pieces of what Carmen Berzatto was thinking.

“Hey, guys!” A familiar voice gathers your attention and you both turn to see Sydney smiling at you two.

Carmy widens his eyes, “Syd, what’re you doing here?”

Sydney snorted, “doing the same thing you’re doing? Having dinner.”

“Right.” He lightly shakes his head.

“Oh my god…am I interrupting this um? Date?” Sydney quickly connected the dots eyeing the both of you back and forth while you’re choking on your drink, “you okay?”

She pats your back for you while you gasp and Carmy slides over his water your way although you have your own glass near by. Gaining some air, you swallow some water and breathe through your nose. Normally you would have a response for Sydney’s joke but given what carmy just said to you had your mind running along with some burning tears you wiped away.

“So this is where you’ve been instead of answering me back?” You decide to switch the subject-you were great at that-wheezing a bit while Carmy scoffs and looks away.

Sydney frowns, “huh? When did you call me besides the FaceTime call…” she starts and pulls out her phone, “oh shit sorry. I placed it on do not disturb like thirty minutes after you didn’t call me back. I got wrapped into some entail about the menu from one of the chef’s that works here and is also a friend.”

Carmy speaks, “Didn’t know you had a connect with anybody here, Syd.”

“Can’t reveal all my moves, Carm.” She winks and lightly elbows him while Carmy sends her a small smile and a shake of his head.

Carmy asks, “scooping out our competition?”

“Only a little," She pinches her fingers before continuing, "and my dad thought it would be a place I wanted to try.” Sydney admits, “and if you two weren’t on a date I’d say let’s make this a group thing! so I’ll be going! I see my dad coming back from the bathroom…he’s got like a bladder problem and I don’t know why I’m sharing that with you two. But bye! Enjoy and just know I’ll be keeping my eye on you two.”

“Fuck,” carmy exhaled feeling his nerves rising, “don’t do that.”

Sydney chuckles to herself and sends a wave to you two before walking back to her table by the window.

“Siddy kicked me to the curb for her dad,” you sigh resting your cheek into your knuckles for a moment, “can’t be mad at that.”

“But you can be mad at me for what exactly?”

“You wanna do this with me right now?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“I thought we could move past what happened—

“You can say it you know? Me with my fingers inside—

“Excuse me!” You hiss, “I don’t need you to repeat action by action thank you. I was there too. We both know what happened, we’d agreed we can coexist around this big ass city. I show up to support—

“Did you though?” Carmy pressed, “support me? Or am I waiting for something else to be thrown at me with your upcoming review?”

“What?!” You bite, “is that what your stank ass attitude is about?”

Carmy tightened his jaw just as the first serving was handed over. You let him sulk in that for some time as you study the plating of the four appetizers, making note of each before taking more pictures with your sony.

“I wasn’t there to write a review.” You reply.

“I saw you—

“Let me finish. I understand pressure so I get it but you have to learn to channel your anger and this grief, elsewhere and deal with it better without projecting it onto any and everybody. I’ll tell you that right now that won’t get you anywhere and especially with me, Carmen.” You affirm.

You’ve been in Carmy’s position before so you can speak with experience. He seemed to always be waiting for the worse to continue filling up his plate but it takes time to accept the good in life. He was giving you something but you weren’t sure it was the best option for the both of you and you weren’t afraid to say that.

“Alright…I didn’t come here to talk about feelings either you know? That’s what those meetings are for.” Carmy spills just a tad.

You stare at the vibrant but delicate plating but his tone and the soft upbeat tempo above your heads don’t go unnoticed. “What did you come here for then?”

Carmy blinks and snatches up a spoon, almost weighing it in his hands before he dives the utensil into the dish. He stares as the stretch of cheese, twisting the spoon to break it apart before holding the Macaroni and Brie with Crab out for you to take the first bite.

He doesn’t answer for awhile and so you do the honors of taking a bite and savoring it's texture and taste.

“…that’s not my favorite.” You announce and notice that Carmy waited for your view.

He raises his brows, “tell me about it?”

“They need different plating.” You deeply sigh, “I know that type of plating works best for a dessert and that’s not it. There’s more breadcrumbs than meat, which seems to not be fully removed from its shell so be careful with that. It’s also lacking flavor even with the brie, which is my least favorite kind of cheese in Mac, although many swear by it.”

Carmy flicks his attention to your disappointment to you scribbling into your notepad with a shake of your head. If he was making you a dish, he’d try his hardest to make sure it was everything you ever wanted.

He quickly has his share and thinks to himself.

Carmy can agree, this was lacking flavor and the breadcrumbs didn’t even have a crunch to them. You can’t just depend on the cheese to give you flavor in Mac and cheese.

“What’s your favorite dish? I—I don’t think I ever asked you that. We just went straight into talking about the beef.”

And doing dirty things in the front seat but who needs to relive that?!

You look up from your notes and lift your chin, “you’re looking at it. It’s childish I know...but that’s exactly what it reminds me of: my childhood. Mac and cheese! then as I got into my adulthood…crab kinda took over. Which is funny because I hated on it for so long growing up. My papa—my grandad, he helped my mom raise me, he's from Ocean City so you can only imagine the amount of seafood on our table.”

You’re smiling to yourself and Carmy can’t help but to feel his small laughter lines appear by his lips as you’re locked into some memory only you can remember vividly. This was the most Carmy was learning about you, sure it may not look like much but he didn’t feel the need to dissociate even if at times he really couldn’t help it.

You were the question mark that he wanted to figure out and get all the answers to. Maybe it was his gut and he shouldn’t have blabbed to sugar about you because now Carmy was thinking this was Michael’s doing.

If you believe in that shit.

So the both of you take your time trying the small dishes before getting the main courses. It seems the longer you sit across from each other—the tension was definitely still there especially with Sydney’s eyes burning into the two of you across the room and attempting to not get caught—although she had once or twice but gradually it lifted as you and carmy shared this time together.

He watched you work while you asked for his input before you told your own. He also provided a few things he would do to tweak it if he agreed with what you didn’t enjoy. Which was eye-opening for you, yes you went to school for journalism and sat in on some cooking classes once that also tied into your passion for learning. After completing your first degree you decided culinary may take you to different heights and enrolled into culinary school. You didn’t find the need to continue going through with being a chef after Copenhagen, finding writing to be your stronger suit but you still understood food and the relationship with it when it came to chef’s.

So you took carmy’s input into consideration.

With the last serving being a Asian dessert called, “Jjan Hae,” which consisted of: coconut rice pudding served with fresh citrus (orange, grapefruit, kumquat) and coffee ice cream, topped with crispy pop rice & a shot of Korean rice wine, it was a strange concept but the both of you came to terms with the dessert working well.

Carmy even took a video to show Marcus tomorrow at the bear and sent a photo to an old colleague, Luca, that you were also familiar with considering Noma was a thing that you didn’t bother speaking much on…but it was your turn to give carmy the last serving.

He hesitated since he had his own bowl, which he finished way before you did but it was clear you wanted him to have the last bite so he also took it while saying something with his eyes.

Breaking the stare, the both of you felt your phone buzz with a text. Carmy didn’t jump to answer it right away…he was the worst texter according to Nat and Sydney but you can answer for the both of you as it was a group text from Sydney who was long gone with her dad.

Siddy + (773) XXX-XXXX: Carmy, invite aspen to breakfast in the morning?? See you guys then! 👍🏾😉

“You guys do breakfast at the bear now?” You say lifting your eyes from your screen.

You heard Sydney made a mean omelette but you haven’t been back since earlier this year and you weren’t in the mood for that that night.

Carmy frowns and closes his eyes with a shake of his head, “uh yeah it’s a new thing that Syd came up with but we agreed to do that with everyone once a month…later this month. Why?”

“She wants me to have breakfast with you guys…knowing I’m not a morning person.”

“It’s not happening tomorrow anyway, so what is she talking about?” Carmy digs into his jacket, where he carelessly shoved his phone into after sending the photo off to Luca.

Another text rings out: at carmy’s place. just us three???

Not Sydney making plans and then placing it all at Carmy’s apartment.

He’s taking a breath, almost as a silent reminder for him to do so before his thumbs move over his screen: i don’t even eat breakfast, Syd.

Syd: well youre gonna.

~ Syd has notifications silenced 🌙 ~

“Well, looks like your work wife told your ass.” You laugh, which you translated into her message but didn’t comment further than that.

Carmy harshly exhales through his nostrils in disbelief, “my work wife huh?”

He didn’t hate how that sounded but he also never thought about marriage or relationships in awhile.

“Yeah…the proof is in the pudding, no matter what anyone says.”

Carmy pinched at his bottom lip as he attempts to dryly joke, “I thought it was rice? and what about outside work…”

“That’s something you have to figure out yourself.” You shrug, getting ready to pack up your notes and cameras.

You turn your attention to the table, which knows just when to lift as you tap on the screen to signal that you’re ready to pay while holding out your company card, “are you paying cash for the tip or card?”

“Uh, cash.” Carmy answers, “…what if I’m starting to think about what come’s next?”

“With Syd?” You question, your now sage and mint scented hands flying over the screen as you select the correct paying method before tapping your company card against the screen.

Carmy starts bouncing his leg underneath the table, “with everything.”

“Well…when you’re ready you’ll make moves to make it happen won’t you?”

Carmy dips his head, “you bet.”

And here comes the intense eye contact that you can’t help but to huff out some laughter.

“What’s funny?”

“It’s just people with light eyes always do this thing where they’re just staring into your soul you know? Like damn, relax!”

Carmy’s confused as he holds his wallet open, “uh sorry for having eyes?”

“Shut up, glacier eyes.” You tell while Carmy just snorts at you.

The both of you don’t waste any time rushing back to his car as the clock is approaching 10pm. The wind’s definitely picked up and the temperature dropped, making it easier not to get caught up in the night time city lights which you often liked to do. Back in the van, carmy doesn’t wait to crank up the heat and you don’t bother to mess with the radio this time.

“So?” Carmy asks as he waits for the car to warm up some.

You keep your attention outside the window shield, “yes?”

“What’s the rating?”

“What makes you think I’m going to tell you that, Carmen?” You continue holding yourself.

He sniffs, “I mean—I was sitting across from you the entire night while you told me some of your thoughts.”

“So you thought you should also get the final score? I don’t even know what I’m going to say yet.”

“Ah, I think you’ve got some idea.” Carmy lolls his head over to peek at you.

Laughter bubbles past your lips, “I do. I’ve absolutely had better because—what the fuck was that?”

Carmen feels a crooked smirk appear on his own face, “I don’t want to completely bash other chef’s work but fuck, I thought it was just me? You said it got a 4.3 out of 5? The ambience and service was spot on but…the flavor for most of the dishes?”

“I knew you knew something about seasoning,” you continued laughing while carmy rolled his eyes, “should spend less on the tech and interior and more on some fresh herbs.”

“Isn’t it called simmer saffron?”

That made you laugh even harder as you gripped your stomach, “You’ve got that so backwards!”

And carmy couldn’t help but to scan your features as you laughed and he felt his chest getting somewhat lighter? Just listening to the sound of you and being beside you. What kind of feeling was this? He’s felt it before looking at someone else but that feeling was more of a tug with that light while this one slowly poured in from the black.

“Don’t be too hard on ‘em though? There’s always room for improvement.”

“Sure, but we both know the bear is better and you guys don’t have a waist list months in advance.”

“We also don’t have any celebrities showing up either.”

“Yet.”

Carmy taps his fingers against the steering wheel, appreciating that, “right, yet…I’m sorry about March. I was too in my head about so much shit and you’re right, I took it out on everyone and I’m still trying to make up for it.”

“Effort doesn’t ever go unnoticed if people look and feel it hard enough.”

Carmy chews on his lips at that, “if you believe that…then why do you feel what I said about dating—uh us—about us dating is out of the blue?”

“I said that?”

“Your eyes did. It’s the most expressive thing about you which is funny to me when you talk so much shit about mine when you hide the rest of it away on your face. It’s fucking confusing but I think I gathered that from our dinner tonight.”

Carmy was just as detail oriented as you. It was in his language with food and maybe even in his tattoos that you tried to understand starting with his fingers first. The way he spoke about what he would do with the dishes that were lackluster, except for the dessert—that was pretty good. Carmy wasn’t much of a talker because he wasn’t sure how to express himself, always been that way since you knew of him at Noma…but he told just enough in his dishes and you told just enough between the lines you wrote.

Someone just had to look hard enough.

“…I ever tell you I was engaged? Of course I didn’t, we’re still…I don’t know what the hell we’re doing here Carmen but I’m starting to sense that we could be special if we both want this badly.”

“What do you want?”

“Does anyone ever really know?” You laughed, “ I guess someone to look past the circumstanial and I had that once but then he died. So that was the end of that.”

“You swore off love.”

“Love is many things but maybe I closed off the long lasting part.”

Carmy could relate to that as least with family. He never had much interest in romance even growing up because he lacked that confidence in anything being permanent besides the chaos he’s used to, then he found some of it once he proved what he fucking set out to do yet cooking was all Carmen really opened himself up to. While Luca and others encouraged him to have a night out in the town, he always left early or if there was one person that caught his interest, they get to talking and both get bored of each other since Carmy hardly made the move to take them back to his. Before Noma?

Maybe.

Back in Paris there was one that could have been permanent but Carmy had to break her heart since Noma was calling. Culinary was his true love and he honestly couldn’t tell you what she even looked like now if you asked him. Things that should have mattered tended to get buried in the blue of his mind unfortunately.

He didn’t have the time to be attached and you didn’t want to have your heart ripped out again.

“How’d—

“He was a firefighter.” Was all you said and just those words alone told carmy it was anything but peaceful.

It took a lot for carmy to scream at himself how Michael went out and he imagined it might have been the same for you. So he wouldn’t dare ask for further morbid details because what did that help?

So maybe you weren’t wrong about the both of you not being ready to take that step on going on dates but change was everlasting.

“Uh—what about breakfast then after that not so great meal?” Carmy asks as he pulls off from the curb now.

You think about it. Really think about it that carmy starts to assume you may have dozed off.

“Depends on the time honestly? And who am I to turn down a free meal?” You beamed at Carmy who lifts his shoulders with a chuckle.

Carmy explains, “Syd and I usually start our days early, sometimes even earlier for me if I don’t get enough hours in. but thanks to the reno those on the early shift can get prep ready and I heard…you’re not a morning person?”

You’re just as sarcastic but there’s no lies, “I don’t even know my name or birthdate when I first wake up…what do you think?”

Carmy snickered at that, “okay? So how does 10am sound?”

“That’s pushing it but…I think I can be there so that’ll give me the rest of the day to work from home.”

Carmy nods, “can’t wait to read it. Shake on it?”

“On what? My review or showing up?”

“Both.”

“I’m not sending you a sneak peek, maybe syd or even nat but not you.”

“Ouch.” Carmy mocks, still waiting for your hand to touch his.

And when you do there’s a spark, that makes you yank your hand back and you feel like you’re in one of those cheesy teen movies.

You’re aware carmy’s felt that too but he just clears his throat and placed his hand back on the steering wheel. Leaving you to lightly massage the palm of your hand, now glancing at the profile of carmy’s face.

Life takes time to live but once you start to just let it be, the green starts to stand out more and can be equally as joyous…once you get through the rain and mud that is.

And once the ice blue sets back on you, the both of you can’t exactly see the future but there’s always warmth waiting for the cold to give them a try.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

February fluff anthology series continues here.

201 notes · View notes

k4zushi · 3 months

Text

[ 16 ] COSTUME ROOM SHENANIGANS

status : unedited, written 01/17/24 ☆ word count : 1.3k

Y/N’S POV ⟡ COSTUME ROOM

the days leading up to the next play practice had been pretty normal which had you on edge.

life had ways of making you miserable and you were at your limit from the events that had taken place 2 weeks following today.

there were many things that made you nervous about attending play practice but the main one was a certain grey haired male who recently become the one most frequently occupying your thoughts.

even if it was just a cat reaction picture, you managed to muster up the courage to reply to cyno’s sudden confession.

however, you still felt awkward and it didn’t help that the simplest of things would make you think of him.

posters about the play while walking to your next lecture of the day? your mind drifted off to visualize him in the costume you had sketched the other day.

hearing someone mention the compsci department? you would wonder what he would look like wearing blue light glasses.

making eye contact with someone with a familiar red gaze while walking to the costume room?

wait a familiar red gaze? oh fuck no please no—

“—y/n? hi?? hello???” cyno said, slowly waving a hand in front of your face.

how you managed to disassociate for so long, you had no clue but that was an issue for later.

“y/n…?” he asked again.

cyno was now looking at you with a worried expression on his face.

he looks pretty even when he’s worried.. god definitely has favorites….

you quickly snap back into reality and focus on the man in front of you.

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to ignore you or anything. i’m just really out of it today i swear,” you frantically explained while nervously fiddling with a measuring tape.

when did i pick up a measuring tape…??

cyno nodded understandingly at your reasoning and started to speak again.

“so… my measurements..?”

“oh you’re right, i’m sor—” you started to apologize again.

“you don’t have to keep apologizing.” cyno interrupted.

you immediately shut up. cyno in person is so much more intimidating than the cyno who called you cute last weekend…

his face immediately contorted into a slight grimace.

“sorry… i didn’t mean for that to come out so harsh. tone is hard”

that made you giggle in amusement. there was the same feeling you had felt when he messaged you.

“slash gen?” you said while biting back a smile from overtaking your face.

cyno’s eyes seemed to lighten up at your small joke.

he was such a dork, you almost swooned right then and there.

he let out a small chuckle and nodded. “yea..”

the nervous knot in your stomach unraveled and you finally felt at a feeling of ease overtake your senses. that was the first time that had happened in a couple weeks.

“hey cyno, are you okay with standing still for me for a couple minutes? i swear i won’t take too much time” you asked, holding up your measuring tape.

“it’s fine, take as much time as you need,” he said stepping towards you.

you tilted your head in confusion at his words and he’s quick to explain.

“i’m not really needed until the scene 5. they’re going over scene 2 right now and it’s going to take a while since it’s technically the first official practice,” he rambled.

his behavior suddenly become more and more visibly nervous. the way he was tightly wringing his fingers looked painful.

you smile at the sight; not because you enjoyed seeing him like this, but because it reassured you that you weren’t the only one who felt nervous interacting with the other.

“you don’t have to explain yourself, just focus on standing still,” you said while extending the measuring tape and wrapping it around his bicep.

you see cyno tense and stiffen in place and while it was extremely amusing to see him act so out of character, you still had a job to do.

“cyno you can relax, i don’t bite you know?”

“i apologize i don’t—“

“why are you apologizing?? i said you can relax..” you sigh, retracting from him and folding your arms.

this only seems to make him even more nervous.

he can’t even look at you properly and this makes you think about what could make him feel less awkward.

it didn’t take long until you thought of something. sure, maybe you could possibly make a complete fool out of yourself but you didn’t have any energy left to face the wrath of ms lisa.

“knock knock”

cyno looks at you confused.

“i said knock knock,” you repeated.

“who’s there…?” he finally responds back.

“boo”

“boo who?”

“don’t cry, it’s a joke”

cyno freezes at this and looked away again.

you start to contemplate if it was really worth your last sliver of dignity trying to get him to become more comfortable with you until you saw the hand that was covering his mouth, the way his body trembled, the soft giggles that escaped, and the slight flush of red creeping up his neck.

“cyno??” you shifted to get a good look at his face.

he turned his head and you made eye contact.

that was when he burst out into full blown laughter.

it was your turn to freeze now; you didn’t know how to react or what the appropriate reaction would even be.

was this really the guy who had you nearly shitting yourself from getting cornered against a wall just a week ago??

his laughter was pretty, something you couldn’t find yourself ever get tired of listening to. unfortunately, but also not so unfortunately, it was just as contagious as it was pretty.

you found yourself laughing along with him and now the two of you were leaning on each other trying desperately to regain your composure.

except the two of you kept failing because you’d make eye contact and immediately get thrown back into another fit of mutual laughter.

this cycle continued another 4 or 5 times, give or take and by the end of it, you were gasping for air.

cyno was the first to recover and had taken it upon himself to hold onto one of your arms so you wouldn’t collapse.

“THE JOKE—” you wheeze. “—WASN’T EVEN THAT FUNNY”

“it was,” cyno shook his head in disagreement, now rubbing circles on your back in an attempt to help you.

“are you sure?? it was so corny,” you said, now feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you.

before he could answer, you had pulled away from his grip on your arm and began to search the floor for the measuring tape you had managed to drop.

cyno frowned a bit but shook it off.

spotting the measuring tape, you grabbed it and approached him.

“i hope that was enough to help you relax,” you went to wrap the tape around his wrist. “i’d be kinda disappointed if it wasn’t”

cyno mumbled a small apology to which you let out a small hum in response.

you tapped one of his arms, gesturing at him to lift them so you could get his torso measurements and he complied.

you took the tape and wrapped it around his waist, tightening it till it was snug against the fabric of his oversized shirt.

cyno shifted a bit and you almost instinctively went to grab his wrist to warn him from moving; something you had picked up since your friends had a habit of running off in public.

with one holding the measuring tape in place and your other one wrapped around his wrist, you heard cyno’s breath hitch.

you pulled away from him and decided to busy yourself with “writing down his measurements” in your notebook that was already filling up with nervous scribbles.

cyno let out a nervous cough and then turned to look away.

perhaps the lack of air ventilation in the costume room was getting to both of you.

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AUTHOR’S NOTE : y/n’s secret spam is inspired by those indian men spam accs ppl use on insta to avoid getting caught stalking ppl😭 i saw a whole comment section full of them and immediately started laughing bc i had no idea how common it was???? on another note, my recent emojis are DESTROYED… it’s tragic and i never want to see the eggplant ever again

☆ backstory on y/n’s priv and why it’s like that — they originally were using it to troll ppl from their school and then ended up using it as a priv bc no one suspected it would be them behind the acc cause it looks like a bot LMAOO

— TAGLIST : @ioveaether @otomegame-oneshots @ashyiiy @mafuyuslover @yuminako @waengyknow @sharkdays @tikitsune @jihoonotes @gallantys @keiiqq @ashhh-14 @keqingily @wisheslost @sandwicz @epiclese @yoyo-yui @fyodorisbbg @kamikokii @swivy123 @ell1e2010 @morgyyyyyyy @tokkishouse @kyon-cherri @xiaossocksniffer @vio-venus @17visage @kookiibun @calypsodustt @yuu1ji7n @ashfrommars4 @kaibloom79 @jadelynnrr @mochiboo123 @lambcandle

#{ k4zushi writings ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა }#cyno #cyno x reader #genshin cyno #genshin #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin smau #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #cyno fluff

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jammyambition · 6 months

Text

Hello!!! Unfortunately for everyone who might see this, I have now attempted to write Baby’s First Smut™️. You heard it here first, I’m not just hoarding fics on this blog anymore (unless this crashes and burns then I will delete it and hide in shame forever ofc) I have been inspired by so many amazing fic writers on here, and I’ll tag a couple just so I can share the love, I hope that’s okay! @pascalisbaby , @tinycozycomfort, @cupofjoel, @joelscruff thank you for your amazing and inspiring work!! Lots of love!!❤️

If people like this I could always write a continuation!! I have lots of ideas in my brain 💡

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Old Man.

Jackson!Joel x Reader

MINORS DNI/NSFW

Warnings: No description of size/appearance/skin colour. Reader is in early to mid 20’s, has a vagina/vulva, has hair long enough to pull, Joel uses terms of endearment such as honey/sweetheart/darlin’/baby/little girl, contains fingering, finger sucking, hair pulling, face grabbing, light/moderate spanking, slightly Mean!Joel, Joel is 56 so I cannot stress this enough, there is a big age gap! 1 single use of the word Daddy, slight humiliation and finally the use of the word Sir about 2 or 3 times. I imagined game!Joel for this fic, but ofc imagine whatever iteration you like!! I am done.

word count: 3,835

You and Joel have been patrol partners for a while now, and you have taking quite a liking to him. A cocky mistake nearly costs you your life, and Joel takes drastic measures to ensure it doesn’t happen again.

The air is crisp and cool as you walk slowly up the snowy path to Joel’s front door. Your mind racing as you think back to the events of your most recent patrol with him; you, a bunch of clickers and your near devastating misplaced confidence in yourself.

You thought you could take on a group by yourself from the safety of your horse. You’d managed to get a few headshots, reaching back to get another arrow from your quiver and nicking yourself on your knife, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the feeling of your skin being sliced open. At the sound of your gasp, the clickers whipped their heads around, causing a whimper of fear to bubble out from your lips. You urge your horse forward as quickly as possible, desperate to escape the clawing hands and gnashing teeth of the monsters, but you’re not quick enough, they’re gaining on you with alarming speed. Your heart pounds in your chest like a frightened rabbit, your breath coming in quick, wet pants as you panic. The situation seems dire, and you do the only thing you can think of that might save you from certain death.

“JOEL!!”

The clickers seem to gain even more speed at the sound of your scream, and you begin to worry that they might drag you off your horse, those gnarled claws and gaping mouths inching ever closer by the second. At the last second, just as you feel the tips of a set of claws scratching at your calf through your thick trousers, one of the clickers is thrown back by a direct shot to it’s head, a halo of gore and fungal brain matter splattering onto the ground and landing in patches on your clothes and face. Another deafening bang and another clicker thumps to the ground at the feet of your panicked horse, and after another 3 lethally calculated shots, you’re finally, blissfully safe. You feel colour and heat returning to your sweaty face, heart racing with adrenaline and relief. You look up, and he’s there. Your saviour. Of course it’s Joel, who else would it be? No one else would be that efficient, that calm under pressure, and also, you note with trembling breath, no one else would look quite that angry.

You can see the rifle clenched in his trembling fist, his nostrils flaring as he catches his breath, coming down from the panic of the last few minutes. He sets the rifle down and motions for you to ride over to join him.

Fuck.

The ride over to Joel feels somewhat like the ride to your own grave, the anger and frustration is radiating off him in palpable waves, his thick fingers twisting around the reins of his horse in a way that both frightens you and makes your mouth feel a little dry. You can’t deny that Joel is a treat to be on patrol with, between his hunting and shooting skills, his good looks and gruff, deep voice, usually you would jump at the chance to spend any amount of time with him, but right now you’d rather be on the receiving end of literally anybody else’s anger.

You turn to Joel, taking in the heavy, thunderous set of his dark brows, his usually kind brown eyes now steely with the promise of you being in for a real dressing down.

“So, you wanna tell me exactly what you were thinking back there?” Joel says, low and vaguely threatening, but tinged with genuine concern.

You swallow dryly.

“I-…I thought I could handle it Joel, I’m sorry. It was my fault.”

Your mouth feels dry and sandpapery, a fierce blush burning in your cheeks as your embarrassment grows.

He breathes in slowly, measuredly before exploding.

“You’re goddamn right it’s your fault, you couldn’t handle shit back there! What would have happened if I wasn’t there, if I hadn’t heard you call for me? I told you, I told you to stick with me and to let me handle packs of infected, and you ignored me and went off alone to try and what? Prove yourself to me? Well, I hate to tell you honey, but the only thing you’ve proven today is that I cannot trust you to follow my orders! I can’t believe you’d be so childish, so goddamn stubborn!”

He takes in another breath, this one sharp and gasping after this outburst.

You blanch, reaching another level of embarrassment you previously thought didn’t exist. He was right, you did want to prove yourself to him, you wanted to impress him, but it didn’t work, you just nearly got yourself killed. Your pride wounded and anger growing, you spit back at him in turn.

“Y-you think I want to impress you, old man? I only took on that pack of clickers because I thought YOU wouldn’t be able to handle it!”

You lie through your teeth, hating yourself even more the moment the words tumble from your freezing lips.

He looks straight ahead, over at the gates of Jackson which loom ahead of you.

“That right, sweetheart?”

He sounds as if he’s speaking through gritted teeth, and you feel your insides chill a little at the cold sound of his voice. You fucked up, bad.

You hitch your horses back at the stables, and as you walk away, desperate to go home, away from Joel and wash your day of adrenaline and crippling embarrassment off you with a hot shower, you feel his firm grasp on your upper arm, stopping you in your tracks.

He leans in close to your ear, his warm breath tickling your cold skin and making you shiver.

“I think you and I need to have a little talk about what happened today. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll have the decency to to show your face tomorrow. I expect an apology.”

Your breath catches in your throat at his words.

“Y-yeah, I’ll be there. I’ll see you tomorrow, Joel.” You stutter, your cheeks heating up even more.

He steps back from you, completely unaffected and calm.

“Good. I’ll catch you later, honey.”

He turns and walks away, over to where Tommy and Maria are beckoning him to come for a nightcap, greeting them with a familiar smile.

You rub your face with your gloved hands, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing your palms to your eyes.

“Shit!” You mutter under your breath. “Shit.”

And that is exactly why you’re hauling your sorry ass up Joel’s path, apologies and excuses dancing around your head, trying to work out just how you can get yourself out of this mess. You imagine Joel telling you that you can’t be on patrol anymore, you’re too irresponsible, too impulsive. Your stomach clenches with nerves.

Finally, you reach his front door and knock lightly a few times, willing him not to be in the house. You can come back tomorrow. You begin to turn away, making your way back down the path as you hear the latch of his front door opening.

You hear Joel’s heavy footsteps on the wooden porch and your heart sinks a little as you hear him speak.

“Don’t think you’ll get away that easy, darlin’. Get in here. Now.”

He steps aside to allow you to get past him, and you squeeze through into the living room, your shoulders brushing his lightly as you pass.

He steps back into the house and shuts the door firmly, your stomach jolting nervously at the finality of the sound. You’re trapped.

Joel moves through the living room, taking a seat on one of the large, comfortable chairs. He gets himself settled, leaning back with his arms draped casually across the back of the chair and his legs spread apart slightly. You can’t help it when your gaze flits between the exposed muscle of his bicep as the arms of his t-shirt rides up slightly, and the bulge in his blue jeans when he leans back. He adjusts himself again, pushing his hips forward. His t-shirt rides up just a little, exposing a sliver of soft, tanned stomach. You feel like you’re about to pass out as you take in the sight in front of you.

“Stop staring at him, for fucks sake!” You think, as you feel your face heat up even more.

“Come here.” Joel says sternly, pointing at a spot in front of him, about a foot away from where he’s sitting.

You walk tentatively over to where he points, coming to a halt just in front of his boots.

“That’s good, darlin’. So you can take orders, huh?” he rumbles, and you swear you hear a slight hint of amusement in his voice.

“I can take orders, old man.” You reply, tartly.

He grunts quietly, unamused.

“Now tell me, what’s with this attitude huh? You’re so polite with everyone else, so nice and sweet. Why do I get this bratty little attitude of yours?” He says, sternly, locking you in his steely gaze.

You don’t answer as you struggle to think of a reply, your mouth opening and closing over and over.

“You ain’t got nothin’ to say, sweetheart? You think I deserve this attitude of yours after I saved your life? Saved you from that cocky little stunt you pulled?” He goes on, filling the silence for you.

You feel hot and guilty as he lectures you, but your stomach twists pleasurably at the sight of him in front of you, and the deep, stern tone of his voice is making you feel hot and even a little damp in your underwear.

“J-Joel, this is…this is humiliating. I don’t need to be lectured like this, I’m not a child.” You find your voice, desperate to prove that you’re not as pathetic and bratty as he’s making you out to be.

“No? Then why do you act like such a child, out on patrol with me? Always with your bratty little comments, disobeying my direct orders, going off on your own when you think you know better!” He sounds more annoyed now, his voice taking on a sharper edge, you can tell you’re getting to him and a small part of you want to push further.

“Jesus Joel, you’re speaking to me like I’m not a grown woman, I’m in my 20’s for fucks sake! I don’t have to answer to you! I can take care of myself, I have more experience than you’ve ever given me credit for, old man.” You spit back, angry at the implications of his words and desperate to hold your own in this battle that you’re acutely aware you’re losing.

A dark look flits across his face, and he looks almost feral when he raises his eyes back to you. You a nervous tingling across the back of your neck as you realise you may have pushed it just a little too far this time.

His hand shoots out and grabs your collar tightly, pulling you down to his level, his forehead pressing against yours as his eyes bore into yours from below.

“Do you have any idea how much older I am than you, little girl? How much more experience I have than you? What I could do to a little brat like you?” He seethes, his voice low and threatening.

You feel a spike of arousal in your stomach as he grits his words out at you, his breath flickering over your face as his dark eyes search yours.

You swallow, steeling yourself against his intense gaze.

“Oh, I’d love to see what you’d do a little brat like me, old man.” You retort, smirking.

Another half-crazed look passes across his face and then suddenly he pulls you sharply by your wrist, unbalancing you and having you land directly across his knees, your ass sticking up slightly.

You’re in shock, feeling vulnerable and exposed despite the two layers of clothing protecting your modesty.

“Joel?! What the fuck?” You protest, trying to stand up, but his arm is solid and vice like around your waist.

He chuckles, clinging to your waist even tighter to ensure you can’t escape.

“Showin’ you what I do to little brats like you, sweetheart.”

Suddenly his hand comes down on your ass, taking you by surprise and making you yelp. Another sudden burst of arousal spikes through your core and you squirm in his lap slightly.

“You’re gonna spank me!? Really, Joel!?” You say, embarrassed.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it, honey. I can see you squirmin’ from here.” He chides, bringing his hand down again, making you let out a strangled half yelp, half moan.

“F-fuck! That hurts, Joel!” You whimper.

“It’s meant to hurt sweetheart, how else is it gonna fix your little attitude problem?” He says, laughing slightly at your predicament.

You feel wetness pooling in your underwear as he strikes your ass again, and you squirm slightly again in his lap, feeling an unexpected hardness digging into your stomach.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it, honey. I can practically feel you making a mess of your underwear, little girl.” He says coolly.

You whimper again, feeling hot and flustered from his ministrations and words. You can feel your pussy dripping with need and you worry it’s about to start making a stain on his jeans.

Joel runs a soothing, warm hand through your hair, coaxing you to look up at him.

“Cmon, darlin’. If you tell me the truth, I’ll give you what you want.” He looks searchingly into your face, big brown eyes kind and gentle.

You swallow, your throat dry with shame and your tongue thick with arousal, willing yourself to come up with a response that isn’t just incomprehensible whines and whimpers betraying your desperation for him.

“I..I…I don’t want anything, Joel. I swear!”

Your voice shakes as you lie through your teeth.

You hear Joel make a half grunt, half chuckle above you, and he draws breath before he speaks.

“You little liar.”

He sounds almost amused as he brings his hand down on your ass again, harder than before, and you accidentally let a strangled moan fall from your lips.

Your hand flies to your lips, as if you’re trying to push the sound back down your throat and your face feels impossibly hot. You can feel yourself leaking into your underwear, almost certainly soaking the fabric through entirely and you’re worried that it might start to leak out and stain his rough denim jeans.

“Oh, honey…” he says, sickly sweet and tender, and then winds a broad hand in the hair at the soft nape of your neck and pulls your head back sharply, slotting his face next to yours and pressing his lips up against your ear.

“I think you want me to fuck that little hole of yours until you remember who’s in charge here, little girl.”

You feel a gush of wetness in your underwear at his words, and an unrestrained moan leaves you against your will.

You nod your head as he begins to gently kiss and nibble at your ear slightly, making you shiver.

He leans back slightly and speaks again, his voice husky and laced with something like desire.

“Need words from you, darlin’. I ain’t doin’ shit until I know you want it. Come on, tell me what you want, honey.”

You gaze up at him, your eyes wide and probably slightly dazed looking from all the blood rushing away from your brain. You lick your dry lips and open your mouth to speak.

“N-need you to touch me Joel, please.”

He looks deep into your eyes.

“That right, baby? Need me to touch you, make you behave? Make you good for me?”

As he says this, you feel his large, warm hand sliding slowly up your thigh, stopping at your inner thigh and tracing small, teasing circles on the sensitive skin.

You can feel yourself get even wetter, and you squirm a little in his lap as his fingers move a little higher, tracing the large wet patch on your underwear.

He smirks slightly, almost condescendingly before speaking.

“All this from a little punishment, darlin’? You really this wet for me?”

He moves his fingers up to the waistband of your underwear and hooks his fingers under the elastic.

“Can I take these off, baby? You want this?”

You’re practically grinding on his thigh with frustration and your voice is small and desperate as you answer.

“Please Joel, take ‘em off, need you so bad.”

He chuckles, deep and warm as he slides your underwear down your thighs, tutting sympathetically as he sees the marks his hand left behind on your ass.

“Poor lil’ thing. Maybe I went too hard on you. Still, you look so damn good like this, honey. Is this how I should get you to mind me from now on? Put you over my knee and spank this pretty lil ass till ya’ listen?”

You moan quietly at his words, not at all opposed to the idea, which of course, Joel notices.

“I see I got a lil masochist on my hands here, ain’t that right, darlin’? You like a lil pain?”

You whimper out a response.

“Yeah, I-I like it, Joel. Now p-please, you’ve teased me enough, need you to touch me.”

He seems to take pity on you as he slowly pulls your underwear down your legs, urging your hips up to give himself room. As you lay back down in his lap you feel his hardness digging into your stomach and you whine out.

“Please Joel, I want your cock so bad, I’ll be good I promise.”

You look up at him with pleading eyes, and he brings his large hand up to your face, smushing your cheeks together so your lips push out in a pout.

“As cute as you are, darlin’, you’re not getting my cock until you can prove you can listen to me, take orders from me like a good girl. Got it, honey?”

You start to pitch up a whine, complaining slightly.

“B-but, Joel, I-I-….”

His grip on your cheeks goes tighter, and he nods your head up and down slightly, his mouth curved into a condescending grin.

“There we go, good girl. Say “Yes, Sir.” That’s it…”

He chuckles, dropping his grip on your cheeks and stroking your hair again in a soothing motion, then moving his hands back to your dripping wet core.

“Listen to me, little girl. You’re gonna lay nice and still over my knee and you’re gonna take what I have to give you, got it? Gonna show you who’s in charge around here, honey; you’re gonna mind me when we’re done.”

As he says this, he slides a thick finger into your dripping hole, and you feel yourself clench around his digit.

“O-oh, fuck!”

You whine as he starts up an unforgiving pace, and you can hear the sticky, wet noises of your own arousal echoing through the room.

“You like that honey? Huh?”

He says, as he slips another finger in, the slight stretch making you cry out in pleasure again.

“Where’s that bratty attitude now, little girl? You gonna talk back to me now you’re getting fucked over my knee? Fucked good by this old man?”

You feel yourself somehow get even wetter at his words, whines tumbling from your lips.

“N-no, Joel, I promise! I’ll b-be good, I swear! Just please don’t stop!”

He makes a thinking noise, his fingers not slowing as he moves his other hand to your lower back, holding you down.

“I don’t know honey, I’m not convinced that you’ll be a good girl for me. Show me some proper respect, and maybe I’ll think about it. Go on.”

You let out a frustrated whine, not believing that he can possibly make this situation anymore humiliating, but you think you know what he wants.

Finally you give in.

“Please, Sir! Please, don’t stop!”

You think you can feel his cock twitch slightly as it digs into your stomach from below, and you feel a slight sense of satisfaction as he speaks.

“Yeah honey, that’s a good girl. Showing me some proper respect now, huh?”

He seems pleased, and as if rewarding you for your efforts he scoops you up and sits you in his lap properly, draping your legs either side of his broad thighs.

You feel your wetness drip out of you as your core is entirely exposed to the cool air of the room.

“I think my good girl deserves a little reward now, show her I’m not all bad, right baby?”

His fingers go straight for your clit and begin to rub it in tight, calculated circles as the fingers of his other hand plunge back into your tight hole.

You moan loudly he does this, feeling yourself close to cumming already after his relentless teasing. You feel as if you can’t control the loud, desperate whines and moans leaving your lips as he continues to work your body expertly.

You hear him tut again as your moans reach a particularly loud crescendo.

“Shh, honey…damn, you really are desperate to cum, huh? You better quieten down, you wouldn’t want your lil’ friends to know you’re getting fucked so good by a man old enough to be your daddy. Ain’t that right little girl?”

As he says this, he takes his fingers out from your pussy and shoves them in your open mouth, silencing your moans.

“Yeah, that’s better. Give you something to keep you quiet while you cum, darlin’.”

You feel yourself tightening around nothing, your legs clenching and shaking as you begin to cum, Joel’s fingers in your mouth keeping you quiet.

He continues to rub your clit slowly as you come down from your high, the feeling making you shiver and spasm in his arms.

You relax back into his chest, feeling slightly dizzy from your intense orgasm, your muscles feeling jelly-like and utterly relaxed.

Joel wraps his arms around your shaking form, reclining further into the chair and allowing you to nestle into his arms.

“You okay, honey? Need anything, some water or something?”

You look up at him, his brown eyes kind and gentle again.

You giggle slightly,

“Maybe my pants back, old man…”

He raises his eyebrows in mock surprise.

“Oh, back to our old ways already are we, sweetheart?”

He says, playfully.

You laugh quietly again, resting your head on his chest.

“Yeah, something like that.”

You two stay like that for a while, until finally your legs begin to go numb due to the uncomfortable position. Joel sends you off with a kiss on the forehead and a pat on your (still slightly sore) ass, as well as a warning that you’d better listen to him next time you’re on patrol together.

You find yourself making a promise to yourself to show Joel just how much of a good girl you can be the next time you’re on patrol together.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou fanfiction

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companionhell · 12 days

Note

I'm a slut for the 'overheard conversation' trope so like,,, romanced companions react to overhearing a nervous Sole as they're practicing their proposal speech? Bonus if Sole is ramble monologuing out loud they're worried it's not good enough for their amazing bf/gf. Just some nice fluff to make your day bright. ((Only if you want to of course. Love ur work, m8))

This ended up pretty long, so I put it under a read more. Enjoy! :)

Cait: Cait’s hearing wasn’t the best after years in the deafening Combat Zone, but Sole wasn’t exactly speaking quietly. So she listened in pretty damn easily-- who in god’s name was Sole talking to, anyway?

“Cait, darling,” Sole said, then paused. Cait strained to hear more, interested by the mention of her name, but the next few words were mumbled. The next she heard was the middle of a sentence: “--start over. Look, I know this isn’t… this maybe isn’t what you were expecting. I don’t know. This stuff is different, after the war. But I can’t think… shit, no, that’s bad.” Sole took a rattling breath, and Cait stepped closer over squeaky floorboards-- what was all this about? “You’re just… Cait, you’re everything to me, and I’m so in love with you, and I just… I wanna marry you.”

Sole jumped when Cait opened the door, looking her lover in the eyes. “You… you just said… you want to marry me? That’s… you really mean that?” Cait’s eyebrows were raised in absolute surprise, and when Sole nodded nervously, Cait broke into a genuine smile. “Never thought I’d be the marryin’ type,” she said, pulling Sole into a kiss. “But, if you really want it… I don’t think you know how much this means to me.”

Curie: Curie did have some manners programmed into her, but her intense desire to learn more about people in general (and Sole in particular) won out. She’d never understood talking to yourself, and she hoped to figure out more by listening in on Sole from the next room, thinking of it more as scientific observation than eavesdropping. It was quite a fascinating habit, after all!

But after only a minute or two, Curie quickly figured out what was going on. “Curie, my love. I don’t know… Okay, not that. Um, there’s a human tradition I’d like you to participate in. With me. It’s to show how much I love you, to promise I’ll stay with you forever… alright, that’s a little better.” Curie started smiling behind her hands, unable to contain the butterflies of excitement in her stomach. Ignoring Sole’s next mutterings about how she deserved a better speech, Curie made her way to their bedroom with a lovestruck expression.

“Oh, mon p’tit chou!” Curie exclaimed. Sole stood at the mirror, holding what looked like a pre-war ring, surprise and embarrassment filling their face as they realized that Curie had heard. She didn’t care that she’d flustered them, though, and clasped her hands to her chest. “Is it true, my love?” Once having received Sole’s affirmation, Curie pressed light kisses on their face in quick succession, speaking in between: “Oh, I love you. I feel my heart may burst- I never knew there could be such bliss.”

Danse: Danse wasn’t really consciously eavesdropping. The house’s walls were thin, and he was just drawing out possible modifications in the next room when he heard Sole talking to themselves. He didn’t think much of it at first- they talked in their sleep, after all. It was likely just another unthinking habit of theirs, so he barely processed their words while he concentrated.

“This needs to be good.. I can’t… ah, damn, I’m going to mess this up.” Danse heard the nervousness in Sole’s voice and momentarily forgot his work, eyebrows furrowing. “Alright. Recent events have been… uh, difficult. For all of us. And I know you’ve been taking time to sort everything out. I have been, too. I was just dropped into the apocalypse without my family, and since then, it’s mostly only gotten worse.” Danse put down the pen and stood, hesitating. He didn’t know what to do, but Sole spoke again. “But if there’s one part of this world I couldn’t live without, it’s… it’s you, Danse. You’re more important to me than words could say. I’m in love with you. And I’ve been thinking about it, and I want to marry you.”

Sole stopped talking, interrupted by loud footsteps rounding the corner and the door slamming open. Danse stood there, flustered and mouth agape, eyes surprised and confused. “Did you… Did you just say you want to marry me?” Sole, more shocked than embarrassed, repeated their proposal, and Danse moved to hold them close, arms wound snugly around the person who’d, months before, saved his life. “I… I can’t explain to you how much that means to me. It’s… a lot to think about, but… I can’t imagine facing the world without you.”

Deacon: Deacon knew something was up with Sole from the minute he heard them talking to themselves. He stepped silently to the end of the hallway, avoiding the squeaky floorboards whose locations he’d memorized, and stopped by the doorway. Deacon steadied his breathing, shifted the center of his weight, and listened.

“Deacon, I…” There was a deep exhale. Deacon’s heart jumped for a moment- had he been seen? But no, Sole continued. “I need to tell you that in this insane world, one of the first things I learned was not to trust anybody. But I can’t help but feel that you’re… different, I guess. Shit, I need another word… you’re… you make this big show about lying a lot, but you don’t bullshit about your beliefs. You don’t bullshit about how fucked-up all this is, and you don’t bullshit about where you came from, and that makes you more genuine than nine-tenths of the people here. I’ve fallen in love with you, Deacon, and I wanna marry you.”

Deacon couldn’t stop himself from inhaling sharply. He… he needed to go think about it. So he quietly made his way outside, lighting a cigarette and staring into the post-apocalyptic wilderness. And Deacon thought- he thought about Barbara, and about the love he’d been so happy to find in Sole, and about himself. Could he commit to moving on? Would Barbara have wanted him to? Did it matter? The next few days were more solemn for him than usual, as he made his decision. And he was glad he’d thought about it- glad that, when Sole finally got it together and proposed, he was able to finally say yes.

Gage: Gage wasn’t really the stealthy type. Looking for Sole, he checked every room in the house, finally walking to their shared bedroom. He didn’t even bother trying to muffle his steps, and considering the heavy-ass cage armor he wore, Gage was pretty damn loud. So when he saw that Sole hadn’t even noticed said clunking footsteps, and that they were so focused on muttering to themselves that they hadn’t turned around to see him, Gage had to listen in.

The first few seconds was just Sole swearing before sighing heavily. “Gage… It’s been a wild ride.” What the hell did that mean? Gage didn’t have time to think about it too much before Sole shook their head and moved on. “This world is fucking insane, and- I don’t think the people are more untrustworthy. I think they’re just more honest about it. Anyway, it was kinda a culture shock. But after wandering in the wasteland, I found my place. At Nuka-World. As leader of the raiders. Gage, I found my place with you.” His eyebrows shot up. Their relationship usually didn’t involve this kinda sappy shit- but this felt more important than usual. “I… I love you, Porter. And I know it’s not a raider ‘thing,’ but fuck it- I’m the Overboss, and I say what I want, so I wanna get married.”

“Damn, Sole,” Gage said, crossing his arms. Sole couldn’t ignore that one. They turned, clearly flustered at the interruption, and opened their mouth to speak- “Nah, gimme a minute, boss. Shit, Sole, that was somethin’ else. And… I guess marryin’ always seemed like bleeding heart bullshit to me, but… you are friggin’ amazing, boss, and if I’m stickin’ with anybody for life, ain’t nobody I’d rather be with than you.” He smiled, kind of sheepishly, and when Sole came over to embrace him, Gage held them tighter than he ever had before.

Hancock: Yeah, okay, Hancock was being kinda sneaky. But the ghoul had damn good ears (what was left of ‘em, anyways), and couldn’t help but try to listen when he heard muttering coming from the room he shared with Sole. So there he was, half-crouched in the hallway, straining to hear what his significant other was saying. This wouldn’t be as hard if Sole wasn’t speaking so damn quiet, anyway.

“John.” That was the first word Hancock heard, and he was already paying attention. Sole only called him that when they were being serious- a couple of near-death scenarios, a heartfelt conversation or two, maybe a few (or more) of their nights together. “My love, I know… commitment isn’t your thing. I understand. And I know you’re doing a lot more of that than usual for me-- I’ve seen you turning down hopefuls from Goodneighbor up to Far Harbor. But I just… I love you, John, and it would mean a lot…” A pause, and a heavy sigh. “Fuck it, I’m never gonna do this right.”

Hancock had inched close enough to the threshold to see Sole staring at their hands- was that a ring glinting in the light? His breath caught in his throat and before he knew it he was tip-toeing outside, somewhere open, somewhere else. He rummaged in his bag for something to take the edge off, but nothing seemed right-- Jet to slow the hell down or Mentats to think clearly? Hancock settled on both, and he sat there and thought for what felt like hours. From the minute he woke up from his radioactive dose he’d never expected anyone to wanna deal with him for much longer than a night or two. Sole was the wrench in that plan… and the best damn thing that’d ever happened to him. Oh, Hancock had made his decision when Sole was the first person he’d sincerely told he loved them since childhood. And when they finally got their act together and asked him, he might as well confirm it.

MacCready: MacCready was about to amble into the room, looking for a comic he’d misplaced- he was sure he’d last been reading it in bed- then heard Sole talking. He stopped instinctively, pausing at the door to listen. Was… anybody else in there with them? No, it seemed like the only one speaking was an increasingly frustrated Sole. MacCready debated with himself for a minute, then elected to stay there, leaning closer to the door to better hear.

“RJ, you gave me something a while back. Something that meant a lot to you.” Were they talking about the toy soldier? What the heck was going on? MacCready edged closer. Sole was sitting on the bed, turning something over in their hands. “It’s time for me to… No, that’s stupid. Um, I want to give something to you too. I love you, RJ. We’ve both lost a lot, but I think it’s best we look to the future. Together.” They slumped, muttering something about how they sounded like an idiot, and MacCready finally caught a glimpse of what they were holding. A ring. Identical to the one they always wore.

He felt tears burning his eyes. After Lucy, he thought he’d always be alone. And here came Sole, who’d not only saved his life and his son’s, but also made him happy for the first time in years. Not barely getting by, not ignoring his pain, but truly happy. “Hey, handsome/beautiful,” he said, crossing the threshold. He laughed at Sole’s shocked expression, and found himself unable to stop smiling. “I definitely don’t deserve someone as good as you, but… hey, if you wanna keep this little thing we have going forever, well, who am I to say no?”

Nick: Alright, Nick had a sneaky bone or two. You had to in his line of business. But he made a point of not going digging through Sole’s dirty laundry, so he tried his absolute hardest to be as not-nosy as possible when he heard them talking from the bedroom. But good god, were they talking for a long time. And loudly. He walked down the hallway, fully intending to alert Sole to his presence, mind you, but heard them say his name. He stopped. What on earth were they on about?

“Nick, I wanted… no.” Sole took a deep breath. “Nick. My love. You’re the best man in the Commonwealth, synth or not. You’re compassionate, and caring, and funny as hell. And I…” They paused, as if thinking. Nick watched from the doorway. Sole was looking into the mirror, staring at themself, and shook their head. “I’m not good enough for you. But… I love you, Nick. And I kinda want to stick together. ‘Long as I’m kicking, anyway. There doesn’t need to be any ceremony or anything if you don’t want to-–”

Nick didn’t hear anything after that. Ceremony? He retreated back down the hallway, as quietly as he came, and sat on the front stoop. Lit up a cigarette. Watched the sunset and the comings and goings of the neighbors. He thought for a long time, examining his reluctance to marry Sole-- the best thing that had happened to him in his decades wandering the Commonwealth. It wasn’t Jenny. God knows she’d have wanted him to move on years ago. And it wasn’t a lack of love. Sole was all an old bot could ask for– the luckiest day of his life was the day they crawled outta that cryo-pod. It had more to do with his disbelief that a stunner like Sole would want to be tied down to a run-down synth with a bum hand and a hole in his neck. He didn’t deserve them. But hey, it was their choice, he thought, looking up at the stars. He’d marry them, alright. And he’d follow wherever they led.

Piper: Piper grinned when she heard Blue mumbling in the bedroom. Their sleeptalking was always priceless. She grabbed a pad of paper from her pocket and slowly eased her way down the hallway, careful not to make too much noise. Sole was a light sleeper. Piper peeked around the door, her playfulness rapidly turning to confusion as she saw that Sole wasn’t asleep, after all. They were sitting on the bed, turned away from her, but still speaking softly. What the heck were they doing?

Sole looked deep in thought. “Maybe start out with… Piper, you’re hard on yourself. Hmm… no, that’s no good.” What? Piper was hard on herself? She leaned in closer to hear. She had good ears, but Blue was barely speaking audibly. Sole kept going. “I know you think of yourself as loud and pushy, but what I see is the kindest woman I’ve ever met. You’re confident, you’re honest, and you’re determined to do good in the world.” Sole looked down at something they held in their hands. “And I know the institution of marriage probably isn’t important to you– or to the Commonwealth, generally– but I thought I’d ask– no, that’s wrong…”

As Sole continued workshopping their phrasing, Piper’s jaw dropped. Marriage? She sidled into the bedroom, purposefully stepping loudly, and saw a glint of gold in Blue’s hands. “Blue!” she said too loudly, startling Sole, who nearly dropped the ring. “Oh, I, uh– Damn it, I’m sorry, Blue, I messed up your moment.” Piper came closer, cupping Sole’s face in her hands. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” She kissed their forehead, smiling at their still-shocked face as she pulled away. “My answer is yes. I will marry you, Blue.”

Preston: Preston definitely hadn’t meant to overhear anything. He’d woken up with his arms empty. Sole wasn’t there. Not too unusual– sometimes they got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. Still, it was hard to sleep without Sole next to him. Groggily, he lifted his head off the pillow and looked around. It was dark. No moonlight shone through the window. But under the bathroom door, there was a crack of light. And through the wall, he could swear he heard… mumbling?

Preston frowned. It had been about a year since they’d taken down the Institute– since Shaun had died. He couldn’t imagine that kind of pain. He’d woken up before to find them crying, silently, in his arms, and done his best to comfort them. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and rolled out of bed, crossing quietly to the bathroom door. Inside, he could hear Sole speaking. He paused for a second to listen. “Preston, I– I don’t think I can… no, that’s no good.” Preston furrowed his eyebrows, lifted his hand up to knock, but was interrupted when Sole started speaking again. “I can’t express in words how much I love you. You’re– you’re kind, and loving, and sweet, and– shit, I’m rambling. Um–”

Preston smiled, leaning on the door so it swung open. “What are you…” He trailed off as he saw what Sole was holding. A ring. The ring that matched the one they always wore. Tears pricked at his eyes. “Are you… planning to propose? …To me?” When Sole confirmed it, Preston beamed. He didn’t think he’d ever stop smiling. He pulled Sole into a hug, pressing kisses against their temples and their forehead. “God, I love you. Of course I’ll marry you– if you’ll have me.”

X6-88: X6 was... concerned. When he and Sole spent an evening at Sanctuary, they usually spent their free time tinkering with their weapons or armor. Or catching up with the settlers. But this time, they’d simply given him a kiss and retreated straight to the bedroom. After two hours of messing with mods for his laser pistol, it seemed clear that Sole wouldn’t be joining him anytime soon. So he quietly trod down the hall. As he approached the bedroom door, he could hear Sole speaking.

“Why am I doing this anyway?” X6 moved closer. Had he done something to upset them? Why not talk to him about it? “He’ll think it’s too sentimental... shit. Maybe I can-- um, alright. X6.” He started, thinking for a moment that Sole had discovered him in the hallway, but they continued talking. Practicing talking to him? “You’re determined, you’re loyal, you’re funny. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And-- and it would mean a lot to me if-- well, you might not care about this kind of thing, but...”

“What kind of thing?” X6 asked, stepping into the room. Sole whipped around to look at him, too surprised to hide what they’d been holding. A gold ring. A wedding ring. X6 took a moment. Sole was right, in a way. He’d keep watching their back until the day he died, and he had never thought of needing a ring or a ceremony to prove it. But... Sole was the person he most cared for in the world. Maybe the only person he cared for. And if wearing a ring was important to them? He would proudly wear his loyalty to them on his finger. It was no object.

#fallout 4 #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 companions react #cait #curie #danse #deacon #gage #hancock #maccready #nick valentine #piper wright #preston garvey #x6-88 #guess who's back LOL

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gffa · 1 month

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I adore your batman stuff very much. I recently read the Wayne Family Adventures, and now I really want to read some more. Do you have recommendations on comic lines to follow?

Hi! I'm glad you're having fun with getting into comics and enjoying the posts around here, it's always nice to have new blood (or returning blood, in my case)! <3 I would give a gentle caution in that Wayne Family Adventures is sort of in a class of its own in a lot of ways, the characterization is much softer and fluffier, while the mainline comics are darker and messier, the characters are definitely not always as nice as they are as in WFA. That's no shade on either of them, just that I want to give a quick warning that if you're stepping from one to the other, the culture shock can sometimes be more than you're expecting. (And also keep in mind that comics are a shifting landscape, there's no one "true" version of many of the landmark moments of characters' lives, you'll see events often retold, you'll see comics that later get retconned, you'll see comics that are in different continuities/set before or after a universe-wide reboot, etc. Don't worry about it, just recognize that you're reading a story to enjoy that story, not as Hard Continuity!) That said, some of the lighter comics that I think would be fun if you're looking to come over from WFA are:

Li'l Gotham is a cute parody series that's super adorable, has some lovely art, and is nice little self-contained stories that are humorous. It's not in mainline continuity and it's even softer than WFA, but it's deeply charming and it's a fun, quick read.

Super Sons (2017) by Peter Tomasi is in mainline continuity and it's focused on Damian Wayne and Jonathan Kent becoming friends, bickering all the while, and getting into hijinks. It tends to lean more humorous and cute, so it's a nice stepping stone up to regular comics.

Robin and Batman (2022) by Jeff Lemire and Dustin Nguyen is a good litmus test for whether you might like regular comics--it's a short 3-issue mini-series focused on Dick's early days as Robin and the complicated, thorny relationship he has with Bruce about it. It's one of my favorite, it balances what a terrible gremlin he was with what a little angel he was and the emotional beats are painful in the best way.

Robin: Year One (2000) and Batgirl: Year One (2003) by Scott Beatty/Chuck Dixon and Marcos Martín/Javier Pulido are good places to start for both characters, and hold up okay considering their age. The art is a bit stylized in a way I really like, it lends it a charming old-fashioned vibe while still being pretty to look at, and there's some solid character moments in both.

Nightwing (2016) by various (starts with Tim Seeley, but it's been several authors by now) is one of my go-to recs, I think it's a great jumping on point, has a lot of really nice art, and often tells fun stories, as Dick has some of the best connections to various other characters in the universe.

Nightwing (2016) by Tom Taylor starts with issue #78 and is a great jumping-on point and Taylor's writing is just very light-hearted, action-packed, quippy, and fun. Starting here saves you from having to slog through some of the worse arcs of Dick's series, you get Bruno Redondo's fantastic art, and you can feel the affection for the character, the author and artist love this character and want to make him very cool, as well as they love his relationships with other characters, so you get good Bruce guest appearances, Babs appearances, Damian appearances, Wally appearances, Jon appearances, etc.

Robins: Being Robin by Tim Seeley and Baldemar Rivas was a fun self-contained mini-series that had all the Robins working together and I don't think it should be taken super seriously as a case story, but it had some quality banter, some hilarious moments, and a great look at these chaotic gremlins all shoved into a mini-van together to go solve a case.

Batgirls (2022) by Conrad Michael W./Becky Cloonan and Jorge Corona is focused on Babs, Cass, and Steph as a trio and being adorable together, with some humorous moments, cool art, and fun Batfam moments. It's nice that they get the spotlight and the chance to shine (it's their book, so they get the majority of the cool moments) and it's not super-long and you can jump right in.

Batman: The Knight by Chip Zdarsky and Carmine Di Giandomenico is a "Bruce travels the world to learn the skills he needs to become Batman" and I'm really in love with the way Zdarsky writes a Bruce who is deeply complicated, messy, coming from a place of loving deeply, but also this man has twenty seven different flavors of fucked up trauma going on in that hell brain of his. Zdarsky's current run on the main Batman title has been my jam, but that's a bit of a darker leap than this one, and I think this one is a great way to get to know Bruce Wayne as a character.

Batman: Urban Legends volume 5 has a story called "The Murder Club" that is basically "Thomas and Martha Wayne are time traveled into the future and see what's become of their son, they're not thrilled about it, but come around when they see the people that love him so deeply--primarily Dick, Damian, and Alfred." and was an absolute BANGER for me for feelings, gorgeous art, and some great character moments.

Batman/Superman: World's Finest (2022) by Mark Waid and Dan Mora is an absolute knock-out, it's Bruce and Clark in their early days of their friendship, where Waid is one of the best writers in the industry for how fun his stories are but also how well he knows the characters, Mora's art is often THE portrayal I think of when I think of the characters, and there's a ton of bonus guest appearances from various characters across DC's universe. Also, I am biased, Dick tags along a lot, as he's still Robin at this point in time, and it's a great dynamic between the three of them.

Batman: One Bad Day: Mr. Freeze by Gerry Duggan and Matteo Scalera was easily the standout of the "One Bad Day" stories for me, it's set in the early days of Bruce & Dick as Batman & Robin and it has ADORABLE sunshine gremlin baby Dick Grayson, a genuinely touching story about Mr. Freeze and his wife, and some beautiful art.

Year One: Batman/Scarecrow (2005) by Bruce Jones and Sean Murphy is a fun look at the early days of Scarecrow, but also has absolutely banger baby Dick Grayson content, there's a scene where Bruce literally just grabs him by the scruff of the neck to haul him out of the way of a crowd about to stampede and it's the funniest thing because that 12 year old could destroy your face with his fists but also Bruce can literally pick him up one-handed. There's some great banter in there and it's just a super fun dynamic.

As you make your way through this list, keep the author/artist and year listings in mind, as often times there are multiple series under the same title and some are more relevant to what you're looking for right now than others. Like, there have been three different volumes of "World's Finest", but I want to direct you specifically to the 2022 version because I think that'll work better for you. Similarly, Nightwing 1996 is one of my faves, but I think the 2016 version will work better at drawing you in right now. This is definitely biased in favor of my faves, but I honestly think they work for good jumping on points for someone new to comics and who's coming from WFA and might not want to get into the messier stuff of the mainline comics right away. Hopefully, you'll enjoy these and anyone else who wants to transition from WFA to reading mainline continuity comics, feel free to join us! Yeah, comics fandom can be a bit of a pill sometimes, but genuinely there's a lot of really fun moments to love and the characters are so much more fun when you're reading their stories with all the history and depth behind them!

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #comics recs

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ordinaryschmuck · 21 days

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Quick Thoughts on "Remember It" from X-Men '97

So I just now realized that Disney+ has rated X-Men '97 as TV-14 and...it really frickin' SHOWS with this episode.

I don't want to spoil things, mainly because I keep "Quick Thoughts" as spoiler free as possible, but like...FUCK dude. Holy hell, things went down hill quick. And you wouldn't think so, at first. Things start off relatively light enough with good fun like the X-Men getting interviewed and Nightcrawler returning to pal around with Rogue and Gambit. But slowly yet surly, the episode turns up the drama with every second.

It starts off with X-Men's usual standard: Relationship drama. Who's in love with who? Can these two still be in a relationship? How badly will Wolverine get rejected by Jean this time (Turns out, not that badly this week)? The meat of the episode is just this and I'd say MOST of it is engaging. Personally, I find the whole thing between Rogue and Magneto to be...icky. The age gap must be large between those two and feels like it was added in to twist the knife into Rogue and Gambit's tragic love story. Granted, the whole "I can't touch you" thing might not be considered a big deal in this day and age because, well, asexuality is a thing and that specific group of people might think "Oh, get over it. Physical contact isn't needed to make a relationship strong." Still, we don't need Rogue sleeping with Magneto to spice up the drama, it's already spicy.

But one thing I AM okay with is the complicated mess between Jean, Scott, and Madelyne Pryor. THIS is juicy because you can just FEEL how things can't be simple between these three, especially through Scott. The man fell in love with a girl and put a baby in her clone, you can't get more complicated. And I like that there's time dedicated to figuring out WHAT happened and WHERE to go from here. I'm so glad the show didn't just sweep the whole thing under the rug and I REALLY hope they still don't now that Madelyne MIGHT be...uh...Well...

You know how I said things went downhill quick? Well, a certain...event happens in all of this. An event with casualties, lots of blood, and bold sacrifices that left me STUNNED. It was at this specific event did I realize, "Oh, yeah, this probably SHOULD be meant for older audiences." Because, yeah, things get DARK in this event. I wouldn't say it ever gets to Invincible levels, the show NEVER goes that far. But I will say that it DOES go farther than what the original series does as well as anything Marvel has put out in recent years. Again, I won't spoil anything, but trust me when I say things are going to CHANGE with this series. I doubt the emotions would be as strong if you just watched the revival before the original series, but it is still some well-done action and drama that's perfectly executed--Oh, that was a poor choice of words...

In short, "Remember It" is DEFINITELY going to be a memorable episode...

#x men 97 #rogue #magneto #scott summers #jean grey #madelyne pryor #gambit #quick thoughts #what i thought about

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thecameronchronicles · 1 year

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Peppermint

TW: smut. Language. Spit kink. Choking kink. Spanking kink. DOM!Topper. Slight bondage. Degrading language.

SUMMARY: Being Topper's stepsister comes with certain...perks.

WORD COUNT: 3200

REQUESTED

a-dorkier-book-keeper asked

Oh my GOD I had a Thought TM: stepbro!Topper 🥵🥵 he'd be so sweet - a little too sweet, but that's easy enough to brush off as him just being a good big bro, and jokes around with you a lot, even if the jokes are a little weird... He takes you to meet all his friends and they're so nice, but you're not sure they've got the right idea: telling Topper that he'd better take his girl home before you had too many drinks at the country club.

*HOPE THE CHANGES I MADE ARE OKAY! ENJOY!*

Peppermint

You drank to forget while everyone else stayed sober to remember. The decorations for the yearly parade of wealth the country club set forth had only worsened the sting of your recent heartache. The sight of happy couples set early within the 'Honeymoon' stage had made your stomach churn as you decided against any ideas of romance given the result of your recent betrayal. And somewhere within the back of your mind you were annoyed that Rafe's words rang true.

What could you expect from a pogue?

But the details didn't matter now. Not the sight of another girl's bra on the floor of The Chateau. Not the sound of her moaning in the same cadence he brought you the very night before. Yep, those same details that you had been trying to forget since you walked in on the sight this morning.

And now you were trapped needing to feign happiness to save face for the Thornton family you had recently become apart of over the last summer. Luckily, this came with the 'perk' of Topper. But this was only because he had a habit of showing you a kindness when you needed it most. He was simply sweet. A good guy you wished you could find somewhere on the island.

If only he wasn't your stepbrother...

"I know it's hell, but luckily the adults are drunk on the eggnog to notice if we'd slip-" You began to feel as if there had been hope for the evening just yet until hearing that laugh over your shoulder. The familiar laugh you had been responsible for up until this morning. Your stomach turned and your eyes narrowed at the sight of your ex having crashed the event with the very girl whose tasteless set of lingerie sat over yours just hours prior. Topper sensed this tension and released the bottle willingly as you took it to your lips.

You drank for any reason you could find, talking to yourself as you managed to distance your steps further from the party. The poor attempt to modernize the event with covers of popular Christmas songs faded until the effects of the alcohol took you to a slumber like a thief in the night.

You awoke sometime later to the feeling of arms lifting you from wherever your body had decided to fail you. Unfamiliar arms. Strong and sturdy. But ones that kept you against an equally built chest as you found comfort in this kind notion. The weight of your eyes reigned over your attempts to make out any further details, the last thing you remembered having been the scent of peppermint lingering as your eyes closed.

Daybreak had yet to dawn as you felt the weight of your overindulgence from the night before. You swore off both eggnog and vodka from that moment forward as you attempted to gather your bearings. But as your hand searched the sheets for your phone or something to use for light in the unfamiliar setting, you felt a body. A bare back beneath your palm.

Immediately, your eyes adjusted and whatever remaining effects of the alcohol had now shortened to sobriety. You knew the lines beneath your hands well as you'd fantasized about them more than you should have.

Topper.

You were quick to assess your own body as you had a habit, and reputation, for being a coquettish drunk. A flirt from the second your lips wrapped around any bottle. Because of this, you cursed to yourself for the recent mistake. Topper was the only thing that kept you sane since you'd moved to The Outer Banks over the summer. You became close with his friends and had become welcomed in his circle, even after you began dating a pogue. And he was always so sweet. Always so accommodating and supportive. Almost too much…

But now, he was lying in what appeared to be the nude as you wore only his shirt and a lack of panties. Familiar with the way your body existed after sex, you were relieved to find an absence of the ache you knew would remain if you'd been penetrated. But still, a buzz of some kind had remained. As if perhaps you were touched or even kissed at your most sacred apex.

"You feeling any better?" He asked as your eyes made a quick note of the nail marks across his torso. Ones you believed had been from the origin of your fingertips. Because of this, you narrowed your eyes to him and altered from confused to enraged.

"Why the fuck are you naked?! Why am I here with you?! Where's my underwear?" Before he could answer, you were on your feet.

"I swear to God, Topper, if you touched me-" His eyes sharpened, insulted by your words.

"I'm going to make sure our parents-" He was suddenly out of bed, shameless in only a only of boxers as he caught your wrist on your attempt to flee.

"You aren't going to do anything." He spoke against you for the first time. Those kind eyes darkening to the controlling hue you were warned at by Sarah during a party of introductions.

"And why's that?" You shot back after being bewildered by his response. But he would only further your confusion as he led a hand to your hip and continued directing you until you were against the wall beside the door.

"Because if not for me, who knows whose bed you'd be waking up in right now...Someone who would have definitely taken advantage of how pathetically drunk you were-"

"And you're such a good guy?! Where the fuck is my underwear then?!" He clenched his jaw as your hands came to his chest.

"Tell me! You always love to hear yourself talk, so fucking talk!"

"I brought you back here so you'd sleep off making a mistake and you started touching yourself." Your eyes widened. "Saying my name...saying you wanted me...." As he spoke these words, you began to remember...

"Please..." You moaned as you bit your bottom lip.

"We can't..."

"Nobody has to know..." You rose to his shoulder, directing his diverted gaze back to you while ghosting his lips with your own.

"I'm so wet for you Topper, it would be so easy for you to come...you wouldn't even have to touch me...you could just come..." He fisted the sheets beside you.

"You don't mean it, you're-" You silenced him with a kiss. A slow start to what became a French buss. His fingers tangled within your hair as you moaned to his widening kiss until you were flat against the bed.

"You're always so sweet to me...But I want you to touch me." You explained through muttered speech.

"However you want...just please don't stop touching me..."

You deepened your scowl at him now.

"So you just took advantage of it?!"

"You literally made me finger you. And you felt so fucking good..." He clenched the same hand he'd used at his side as you swallowed hard to his change of volume.

"But I didn't do anything. Not for long. But you made it easy to want to..."

In remembrance, you could feel him over you. His breath hot at your chest as you had removed your dress prior to his fingers at your hip.

"I want to ride your fingers...please...I won't come yet...I just want to feel them. I know what I said but please-" He bit his bottom lip as you brought those thick digits to your lower lips.

"Yes! YES! TOPPER!"

He clenched his jaw then just as he had now.

"You were so tight and wet...and I could have taken you so easily..." He lowered his head just enough so you understood his sincerity.

"But I wanted you to remember. To remember when I touched you. Not because you were drunk or just being a slut." Your lips parted to reprimand him for such a title, as he took hold of your hair.

"I've been patient. I've waited. I've watched you make mistake after mistake because I wanted it to be where I could console you..." He scoffed.

"But I'm done being nice." He set those same two fingers from the night before into his mouth and then to your sex.

"Topper!"

"You begged for it last night. You told me how you've always wanted me. You wanted to ride me and have me fuck you like a whore from behind while he heard you..." You recalled those moments, your cheeks flushing and your thighs dampening in the recollection.

"And you still want it now...you're dripping on my fingers and I haven't even touched you yet..." The wrap made in your hair tightened into white knuckled as he took you to the bed.

"You should be showing me gratitude that I saved you from being fucked by some random tourist or another pogue...But lucky for you...I know exactly what you need."

"Whatever I said, I-"

"Shhh.." He moved closer, fingers rimming your sex.

"Nobody has to know." He plummeted both fingers at once inside of you at once. Your legs trembled as he held you upright by the grip of your hair, the piston of his fingers, and his body pinning you between him and the bed.

"I always knew you wanted this. Told me how much last night when you said you came every night wanting this..."

"Ahhh...Topper....mmm…Wait…" You moaned against his fingers as he led you to his lips. The vibration from your continued approval interrupted his kiss with a smirk until he withdrew.

"So now you're gonna have it." He lowered to you, continuing to finger you, but slowing as you needed him to accelerate. This sent your hips to rise and accommodate him, only to feel the grip in your hair keep you in place.

"Such a greedy and impatient little whore aren't you? Wanting to come already? Not after I waited all night...just to wake up to you bitching at me." He scoffed.

"Knees. Be a good girl for me?" He feigned a response that he took by his dominant hand as you obliged. You licked your lips to the sight of him coming to life from beneath his boxers.

"Shut the fuck up and take me further than you took even him." He pulled your hair before leading the second hand to your jaw. Pulling apart your lips, he spat on your tongue.

Peppermint.

"Spit it out on me. I need a bit of motivation." He lied, using it as a means for your obedience. His eyes darkened further to your consent as you spit out onto his angry shaft, already tearful by the thought of your touch alone.

"I know you can make me come this way. What else is a little slut good for?" He scoffed. "But MY slut is going to let me come inside of her...not down her throat..." You showed your understanding by beginning slowly. The width of his cock wore heavy on your tongue as his length made you gag immediately. You began to breathe through your nose and open your throat to him as he loosened the grip made of your hair.

"Fuck..." He breathed in commemoration as he nearly let your hair.

"He's a fucking idiot to give this up...oh shit..." He looked down to you, "Look at me." He growled as you hesitated to obey due to your angle. As you weren't immediate, he took hold of your hair once again. Only this time to lower to you, his cock forced away from your suctioned lips, as you gasped.

"If you want to come, you better start fucking listening..." He threatened as you kept your eyes to him.

"Such a good stepsister..." He explained as your eyes rolled for a moment onto to rise to him again. The moment was nearly pornagraphic for a multitue of reasons. But nothing more than just how submissive you were for him.

"Stand up." He ordered after you'd neared him to yet another edge.

"Off." Motioned for his shirt before you obliged. The second your bare chest faced him, he set you to the bed.

"I want you to do it for me now. I want to watch you touch yourself for me. Get real close to that orgasm…the one you've had so many times thinking about me…without me…"

"But I want you in your knees. Looking back at me. Because once you're nice and wet, I'm gonna take you exactly how you wanted." You swallowed hard, setting yourself into the doggystyle position.

"Topper-" A slap to your ass made you shudder over him.

"Even that sounds better than I thought…"

"I want-"

"You told me enough about what you wanted. You give me what I want and then we'll see about you…" He smacked your left cheek before smoothing the sting with a loving caresses.

"Slow strides. You don't come until I say." Your face was feverish with embarrassment but the need between your legs became too boisterous. Annoyingly so as it seemed to have the same effect as the alcohol. Each glide made over your clit had you moaning for him.

"That's good…shit…"

"Don't play with yourself." You ordered as he swept his dominant hand to your untouched cheek.

"You don't get to make demands, baby."

"I want every drop for myself…" You whined. "I wanna feel you come inside me, Top…I want it…" You mewled as he scoffed in disbelief. The same disbelief that brought him into his knees from behind you.

"Just a bit more for me…this shit is too fucking good…" He spit on your folds, unnecessarily yet for more of the principle of the moment as you gasped. Two fingers made their way inside of you, forcing yours to focus on your clit.

"Don't come." He reminded you. "I can already feel how you want to-"

"Top, please!" You bent forward, his breath to your slick chilling your lust from the inside out. You wanted to feel him touch absolutely every nerve that was ready set on fire because of him. But he was more patient than you. And you loathed him for it.

"Please-" He drew another hand to your ass, now silent, as you continued to plead. The stinf was made quiet by the deafening need for more. His tongue. His cock. Anything more than the slow strides he made purposely lengthy against your desperation.

"Please, Top!!!"

You were taken by the back of your neck and led to his bare chest. A breathless rest and moment of silence making the sensation of his cock in a slow penetration somehow more intense. Almost as if it had been in slow motions itself.

"You're not a good girl. You're my whore-say it…" He breathed deeply, a slow thrusts making it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. And yet, it was what he requested. And to keep girdled at risk for edging or overall abandonment, you submitted to him.

"I'm your whore."

"Aww…you really are desperate for my cock, aren't you? Enough to degrade yourself, baby?" You clenched your jaw.

"Maybe I should be a bit nicer? Softer?" You only tightened your jaw, certain hour teeth could shatter with the strength behind.

"If you were my girlfriend, I would. I'd make love to you. I'd be soft and tell you how beautiful you are. But you said it yourself…you're my whore…so you get my hand to your ass and around your neck…you get my cock deep and hard…but don't worry…you still get to come like you're my girlfriend…" He teased.

"You feel what you do to me?"

"Topper!" He curves your face to his, a deep French kiss making you silent.

"You feel how hard I have to fuck you do you understand?! Shit!" He forced you back at rest on your palms.

"I've gotta come! You're making me come!" He spoke quickly as you nodded.

"I'm close-" But he withdrew, pulling your hair to such a degree that allowed him to make out your expression.

"We're going to try this again. You're going to come for me and I'm going to get to watch you. I've already seen you touch yourself. You've done it for me. You even came for me last night while I fought very fucking nerve to keep from coming…so now…you're gonna come because of me…"

"Topper!"

"Not yet…Let me savor those moans just a bit longer…"

"Please! I can't stop it!"

"If you want to come again at any point in the future, you'll fucking wait." You groaned as he quickened himself inside of you. Every thrust, almost meticulous as it hit against you to perfection. Every inch of your body vibrating to his actions.

"Top I can't…I'm trying I can feel it…I'm gonna come…I'm-" you announced.

"Come on then my little slut…show me how you come for me…"

"Topper!" Your body seized for a moment, his cock continuing to batter into you as you fisted the sheets beneath you.

'Keep coming…Do you have any idea how you look when you come? Fuck!" He grunted.

"Open your eyes…'

"I-" He smacked your cheek one final time.

"Open." You obliged, watching his face contorting because of your body clenching around him. The rise and fall of his chest acting as a reminder to his anatomy you'd fought to touch until now. The same torso wearing sweet from this endless interaction with you.

"I'm-"

"Again?!" He scoffed.

"Please…" you whined as he turned you onto your back. Using the shirt of his you'd disposed of just recently, he bound your hands above your head.

"You've made enough noise. You come quietly for me now…gotta know that you can do it for when we get back home…"

"Topper-"

"If you expect me to keep my hands to myself after this…you're sorely mistaken…every dinner…" He was between your legs as he spoke. "Every second alone…after my mom goes to sleep next to your dad…You'll have to get used to this…" He savored you in silence for only a moment. As you built to that edge, he would retreat.

"Now since I know you're a screamer, gonna have to train you to be quiet for me." His tongue returning to you would pull your eyes into a roll.

"One more time…" He smirked, leading your legs over his shoulders in a final moment of relief. That familiar wave just beneath his fingers as you bucked into his tongue, riding into his favoring tongue.

"Mmm…peppermint.' He winked as you realized he had been dutiful from the night before, making him more deserving of this. He was chivalrous until provoked. And you wanted to provoke him. And doing so in repetition.

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @drews1love @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916

MASTERLIST

TOPPER THORNTON MASTERLIST

CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST

#topper thornton x reader #topper thornton smut #topper thornton fanfiction #topperthornton #topper thornton #outerbanks smut #cameron chronicles christmas 2022 #outerbanks #obx #outer banks smut #obxsmut #obx fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #austin north

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elliewiltarwyn · 23 days

Text

Elilgeim "Ellie" Wiltarwyn

B A S I C S

Name: Elilgeim Wiltarwyn

Nicknames: 'Geim by childhood friends; Ellie by Mia at the end of ARR and by everyone (or at least those she knows) halfway through HW; El by her partners

Age: 24 in ARR, hc'ing that it's four years to the end of 6.0 and then another year or so to 6.55 -- so at present, 29ish

Nameday: 9th Sun of the Sixth Umbral Moon

Race: Sea Wolf Roegadyn

Gender: (trans) female

Orientation: Lesbian

Profession: Conjurers' Guild member, then Warrior of Light; would probably still be a conjurer, or scholar or even a writer in non-WoL AUs

P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: Red, usually shoulder-length when down, but in a ponytail most of the time. She usually brushes it until it's silky and clean, but recently somebody *coughdefinitelynot@oneiroycough* mussed it into a really messy kinda-butch look and she's found herself really liking it :V

Eyes: sort of the same slightly-cool blue as the tumblr dashboard you're probably reading this on >.>

Skin: Seafoam green-ish

Tattoos/scars: Slightly-pale red streak across her cheekbones and nose. Plenty of scars, one light one over her eye from Pearl Lane and more all over her torso; Zenos gave her the two biggest ones, one on her side at Rhalgr's Reach and one directly in the middle of her chest in Ultima Thule.

F A M I L Y

Parents: Father was Wiltitar, a retired Storm Captain, most well-known for retiring from and renouncing piracy and throwing his support behind Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn's Galadion Accord; met an untimely end in an alleyway mugging. (This does mean her surname should be Wiltitarwyn, and there's no good in-universe reason it's not. >.>) Mother is Keltbryda, a renowned and well-loved physician who mysteriously vanished, thought dead. Near the end of EW... Ellie discovers she was actually summoned to Sharlayan to lend her skills to the ark project. They definitely have a very normal conversation about this.

Siblings: None by blood, but she does have a childhood friend from school that she considers a sister this friend does not exist yet beyond that concept

Grandparents: A little too far back for me to think about >.>

In-laws and Other: None, really, because...by the time she marries her partners, none of their blood families are in their lives anymore either >.> (technically I think Lily's family is still alive, mom and nunh and two younger sisters, but she hasn't seen them in years)

Pets: Fat Cat is definitely canon, although I haven't figured out its name yet. also debating whether Rudy photobombing their holiday photos and stealing her nameday cake is canon and he just lives with them now.

S K I L L S

Abilities: Surprisingly in tune with the elementals of Gridania (though not enough to be necessarily okay with them) and thus fairly skilled at white magic/conjury. After a Very Certain Event in HW, she picks up a claymore and learns how to swing a greatsword and becomes even more in tune with her inner darkness. She picks up the reaper arts for EW, then post-EW drops them and learns martial arts from Lyse and her contacts in the Fists of Rhalgr.

Hobbies: Reading and studying, training, picks up sailing and fishing after EW.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: An extremely strong and confident sense of justice/conviction of what's right and wrong.

Most Negative Trait: Gets tunnel vision frequently and is quick to leap to the most direct solution, no matter how unfeasible or unwise.

L I K E S

Colors: Red red red red red almost all the way up and down lol, and black for accents. Blue's a close runner-up, though.

Smells: the coast of Vylbrand, the steel of bloodied armor, coffee

Textures: Aetherwoven robes and corrugated steel; calloused hands and rough skin; surprisingly soft almost-silky hair

Drinks: Coffee, either pitch black or very specifically a spoonful of milk and one sugar cube

O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: She did occasionally during the period of her life she spent on Pearl Lane, and will maybe take one if offered in the present, but she doesn't of her own accord anymore.

Drinks: Nope, even before the events of MSQ she did not have a great tolerance; after the multiple attempted poisonings (and as the one who was specifically blamed at the bloody banquet) she swears it off entirely.

Drugs: Not of her own accord again, but she will if offered recreationally.

Mount Issuance: Her red chocobo named Typhoon; she also uses the Garlond GL-II on loan from the Ironworks as long as she doesn't crash it. She's come close a couple of times.

Been Arrested: Likely a few times when in Pearl Lane, then less so as she got better about avoiding them, but not since becoming a conjurer.

---------

thanks for the tag @oneiroy!! I'm not sure who all's done this so uh forgive the double-tag if it is one, but I will tag... @eidingate @amons-hat-enthusiast @idalenn @starrysnowdrop @akirakirxaa, and of course you 🫵 if this strikes your fancy!

#tag games #wol questions #sorta lol #femroe #ffxiv gpose #ffxiv screenshots #onei i like your idea that there's no pressure if tagged just consider it an evil boop otherwise lol

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loadedberetta · 5 months

Text

Barracks 4

König x fReader // callsign Misfit; fem no body desc // MDNI

summary: Time soon came to answer to the Colonel, about the botched hit you fucked up a few days prior.

2.8k words // rating: E/18+ // MDNI

(sequel to Apartment 10)

warnings: porn with some plot; humiliation; implied past experience with Ghost; possessive König because that's fun; quick blowie; breath play?; exhibition if you squint your eyes; dacryphilia; some German; nicknames used: callsign Misfit, Mausi (little mouse), Schatzi (treasured one), braves Mädchen (good girl); Reader is left blueballed as a punishment

a/n: it's hella self-indulgent okay? I'm sorry but Reader sometimes gets left on read it'll be worth it I promise

Stitches healed swiftly on your hip, and your bruises faded in opposition to the memories made on that fateful mission.

Colonel König blinked down at you expectantly, walking around behind the metal chair while you were sat further from him in the room filled with other members of your faction.

For some godforsaken reason, he was still in gear, his flight back from mission landed just minutes before he called for a debrief about recent events unfolding. The rest of the meeting didn't concern you much, but when he mentioned your name, blood froze in your veins.

"…and as you might know, the American banker related to AQ transactions is still on the loose, thanks to the bashfulness of our Misfit." He cleared his throat, and you averted your gaze, face burning with embarrassment. "Roze, mission is now yours. Next…"

The world faded quickly into a blur after that. The moment the debrief was over, you headed for your room after taking a thorough cold shower to try and wash away the edge the last few days had left in you.

It hadn't even been a full minute since you were back in your room, three knocks rippled through the stale air of the room.

"One moment!" Your voice rang out, quickly pulling a new shirt on your otherwise uncovered upper body.

Tugging some pants on, you opened the door to the small room and were met by a dark figure on the other side.

"Colonel!" You yelped quietly and crossed your arms swiftly across your chest to try and shield your perking nipples underneath the green shirt.

He sighed. "Can I come in?"

His thick Austrian accent turned even more prominent with the level of agitation that so obviously radiated from him.

"Yes, uh… yes." Your face felt hot again at your state. Barely any clothes on, hair still wet from the shower, room in disarray.

He stood still in the middle of the small space, which enhanced his figure even more. Tearing your gaze from his hips, now sans a tactical belt, you closed the door and leaned against it, not expecting much positive.

He was usually way more lax in his nightly visits to your quarters.

"Your report is nonsensical, Misfit." He rasped, turning around, the hulking frame now facing you. You gulped, as his wide body almost blocked out the moonlight filtering through the shutters, illuminating him in a strange light.

His helmet and hood were gone, only a loose ski mask hung on his head.

You didn't have anything to say, it was; you…

"…completely omitted where you spent the night, how you acquired meds, and why you didn't report in at all until morning." He sounded an inkling more protective than usual.

"Misfit, how did this happen?" He leaned forward a bit, gloved hands fidgeting while crossing his arms over his bulging chest.

"I got hit,-"

"That's not an answer to my question." He cut you off and scoffed under his hood.

It was extremely hard, to discern his expressions through the shadowy eyeholes of the fabric draped over his face.

"Moreover," He lifted a finger authoritatively. "you failed to mention that SpecGru was also on site! Verdammte Scheiße, Misfit!" He fumed under the surface and raised one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose over the hood.

Following his hand, you glimpsed the rough outline of the bridge of his nose under the cotton and gasped lightly.

"I asked you a question, soldier." You heard his stern voice ricochet off the walls a moment later.

Not waiting for an answer, he repeated himself: "Which one of them was there? Hm?"

He settled again, tilting his head and locking his cold, icy gaze on you.

Silence. He stepped closer.

"Cat got your tongue?" You saw as if he was raising a brow behind the mask.

"No, no, I…" You now laid flat against the door, dwarfed by his large body inching closer to you steadily.

"Who… was it." His breath would have fanned over your face, had the mask not separated his skin from yours. "Because I don't like my soldiers… converging with the opposite faction, you understand?"

The small nod you made with closed eyes was stopped by a finger on your chin, ungloved and cold. You gasped and opened your eyes.

"Don't tell me you're trying to protect them…" He cooed, ever so silently, as some footsteps passed by the room outside. "The only person here who needs protecting is you, Mausi."

A dark chuckle reverberated around you.

"Your silence is going to get you into more trouble than it's worth, now…" His tongue clicked, and you gulped in return. A small whimper broke from deep in your throat.

"Scheiße…" He scoffed with an audible smirk and lifted his head. "You're enjoying this…" He stated, rather than leaving the question up to you.

"Ghost… It was Ghost." You whispered, voice choked and burning with embarrassment.

"Was it now?" He perked up, placing a hand on the door next to your nodding head. "Warst du tapfer, ja, Schatzi? Look up, at me."

Your lashes fluttered as you finally found enough courage to blink up at his terrifyingly darkened features.

"Braves Mädchen… Now…" He placed two fingers below your trembling chin and pushed it upwards, making it impossible for you not to look into his glowing eyes. You felt your stomach somersault in place at his words.

The clink noise of the clasp of his belt rang in your ears before the barked command of "Kneel.".

Without a second thought, you did. However, you'd never done this, not with König. Punishment was going to be harsher this time.

You'd had a thing for him the moment you first arrived at KorTac a few months back. And he took advantage of it, not wasting a moment on formalities. He'd marked you for the first time after another member looked at you wrong. You hadn't even seen who it was before he grabbed you and marched you away to a quiet corner of the current base, and had his way with you. Confusion pooled low in your abdomen, mixing with arousal the moment he laid his hands on you. Then slowly, is eased. A few weeks of rigorous establishment of his territory (subtly to others and not so) subtly to you felt natural.

You'd become his plaything; and you had nothing against it. If anything, it was an experience to be enjoyed.

Marks left by him almost constantly make your skin ache in the most sensitive spots over your tits, collarbones, thighs… You were nothing more than a toy for him in your eyes and didn't expect much in retaliation for the wrong step you took with Ghost.

He couldn't have known about it. KorTac and SpecGru were not on talking terms.

"Now did you take me to be that dumb, that I wouldn't see it the moment I laid eyes on you? Hm?"

"What?" You asked, feeling minute on your knees. You weren't small, but to him, you couldn't measure up.

"That prick. He fucked your damn brain out of you."

"N-no, that's not…"

"Oh don't try to deny it, I've seen your medical already."

Diligently, you raised your hands to his hips, trying to veer his attention from the obvious.

"You're going to make up for it, I see. I want to see you try." A dark chuckle enveloped you, drowning out the hard thump-thump-thump of your heartbeat rumbling steadily in your ears.

Instead of answering, you nodded shortly, gaze now focused on the bulging length that dared to free itself should you not be quick enough about it.

Two clicks snapped your attention away from a vein you traced with your eyes through the fabric, fingers hooked in the brown belt loops.

"Langsam. Show me you are sorry."

You nodded again, rapid, overeager movements with your head. A hand patted your head and settled on the crown of your skull.

Not taking any more seconds to let the fleeting moment pass, you hooked a finger under the waistband of his tight, dark blue boxers, and unceremoniously freed his hard length. You knew how big he was, having taken him before several times, but it never came to this before. Already fearing for your voice in the coming days, you wrapped a hand around the base of his shaft.

Nothing but an exhale marked your actions. Wetting your lips thoroughly, you opened your mouth and inch by inch, started taking him. His hand didn't move on your head yet, and he was worryingly silent.

Wiggling your tongue to feel the same vein as your eyes did just a minute before earned you the first real sound he made that night. A low groan, short, punctuated, and to the point. Closing the tight ring of your mouth around half of his length, you exhaled shakily and closed your eyes with the sensation. A sticky, salty feeling settled in your throat, as saliva pooled below your tongue, making your next move more easy.

Throat slowly opening as you relaxed, you tried the impossible and took more of his length in. He hissed small above you, making your eyes flutter open again.

Dragging your head back, you almost completely removed your hot mouth from around him, only leaving the silky tip between your lips. You let your tongue wander up and down the pronounced dip of it and took him in again languidly with the same momentum.

An exhale hit your ear, forced and involuntary at the same time.

No words. No praise. Silence was your ally, letting you on that he didn't have a complaint.

Working yourself up again to try, you took more of him in, lips brushing your hand wrapped around the base before the sensation became uncomfortable.

"More…" Came the whispered command from above you. Looking up the best you could, you saw König's chin from below the mask, head angled back.

And you obliged. Inhaling through your nose and bracing, you closed your already weeping eyes and felt your wet lips connect to your curled index finger. The sensation was overwhelming, your throat being so full of something.

You felt pressure on your head, his hand first gently pushing you onto himself, losing control as seconds inched by. Feeling him twitch deep in your throat made your cunt pulse repeatedly, a warm feeling overshadowing the warning of dwindling oxygen in your lungs.

"Hold it." You heard him mumble, lengthening the syllables slightly.

A whimper broke from your lungs, with the last of the air stored in them before you felt like you couldn't hold his cock down your throat anymore.

"Yes…" He hissed as he let your head go, making you fall back onto your heels with a gasp.

Completely disconnected from him, you panted, breaking the line of saliva tracing your lips to his cock.

Without a word exchanged, you rose again and licked in small movements along his shaft, kissing it, trying to win time for yourself. His cock throbbed, hard and thick like you've never seen before. Your cunt remembered all the times he speared you open, rutting into you with reckless abandon. Clenching turned painful, as your tight pussy silently begged for his attention and soaked your tight pants.

His hand settled on your head again and guided you onto himself without a care. This time, he settled for a steady pace, lewd noises filling the room from the pooling saliva spreading around on his cock with each thrust.

He didn't talk, he rarely did. Lost in the pleasure, or simply not holding you worthy enough of praise, he had you settle on listening to his noises during it. Unusually desperate huffs and breaths escaped his mouth this time, stirring arousal in every part of your body, almost to the point of it becoming unbearable.

Languid thrusts quickly turned desperate; post-mission stress, the need to use you, and the simple lewd act of a blowjob sent him to the edge unusually quickly. His hand on the back of your head left no room for you to move, or even control your own movements, turning you into a breathy mess under him.

Your tears soon mixed with the cocktail of precum and saliva already running down your chin, dribbling slowly onto your thighs tightly pressed together. You were chasing friction by then, one hand still on his cock (although only two fingers), the other bracing yourself in the crook of your hip.

Neck threatening to cramp soon along with your shaking thighs holding yourself up slightly, you silently begged for it to be over soon. König's palm didn't ease up on your head, instead switching to slower, but much more agonizing, deep thrusts. Cockhead repeatedly punching against the back of your throat, you whimpered each time, swallowing around him when it became too much.

His noises started to pick up, hisses and grunts broke from his lips quicker and quicker. You tried pushing yourself off, getting a full inhale of air into your lungs, but it soon became obvious that it wasn't in your right to. Lightheadedness started to take over you soon, staccato whimpers drowned out by deep thrusts down your neck.

Thankfully, in what felt like an act of mercy, he let up the pressure on your head for a few moments, allowing you to finally gulp some air into your parched lungs. The new, shallow thrusts he settled for allowed you to save yourself from a blackout, but they simultaneously felt like they shattered your jaws each time in turn. Your grip strengthened on the base of his cock again, the edge of your palm nestled against his pelvic bone overspread with dirty blonde hair.

Feeling his body tense and let go, his moans becoming more strained and his hand finding its way back to the crown of your head, you knew he grew close to his climax. Wet sounds echoed all around you, and you were sure at least some of it was audible in the corridor leading up to your room.

Embarrassment washed over you but was quickly overshadowed by a strange sense of pride, bolstered by the noises König made above you as he quickened his already punishing pace driving his dick deeper into your sweet mouth again.

Half a dozen times, you felt his tip connect to the back of your throat before feeling his fingers roughly scratch your scalp. He stilled completely, and his inhale broke sharply. He pumped rope after rope into your needy mouth before he pulled away, uncaring to pearly drops still leaking from his glistening tip.

You managed to disappear his load down your throat in two separate gulps, letting your eyes flutter open during. You sniffled, and wiped streaks of tears down your cheeks as you heard him speak;

"Braves Mädchen, Mausi-" He stepped closer again but didn't make an effort to reach out to you. He did up his pants and snapped his belt close again. "You took me well." He stated rather matter-of-factly, as you remained on the ground, exhausted and ashamed.

"Komm." He offered his shoulder and leaned down. Eyes alight, you grabbed his neck and allowed him to take you over his shoulder, thighs pressed together by the movement. It made you see stars, that little friction you barely got from his touch.

The next moment, he laid you down roughly onto your bed and encased your figure by planting his two hands beside your head and separating your thighs with his knee.

"Sucking me off wasn't a punishment, ja?…" You nodded confused, wanting desperately to agree with him if it meant you'd earned his favour.

You felt his knee slide up between your inner thighs, pressing into your cunt a moment later. A sharp gasp left your mouth, and you threw your head back in ecstasy at the fleeting second of pressure on your cunt.

And then, the mattress lifted beside you, and the moon shined at you again.

"…But this is." He stood up straight, and you heard his voice not even trying to conceal a smirk. "I'll be back tomorrow." He grunted flatly and rolled his shoulders.

Unable to form words while sparks fizzing deep in your brain, spine alight and guts flaring, you sat up, mouth falling open.

"Close your mouth, that look is not flattering." He dismissed you before he promptly walked to the door. "And don't touch yourself until tomorrow. I'll be back at 10."

"Wh--" The rest of your complaint hit against your shutting door, König's footsteps already echoing down the hallway.

masterlist

a/n: oh no poor reader is getting denied oh no! I'm going to start to feel bad for her never soon! what if König and Ghost find her together what then? crossposted to ao3 too; feedback appreciated

#beretta does fics #let the tagging hell commence #cod fanfic #cod mw ii #cod mw fanfiction #könig x reader #konig x reader #könig cod #konig #ghost x reader #könig mw2

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drc00l4tt4 · 9 months

Note

wave wave wave

hellooo its me again uhmmm

saw ur reqs were open and i have a couple

Melvinborg:

Melvin and reader like exploring parenthood with their new baby(i thought the idea was cute)

NSFW - Reader giving Melvinborg a blowie in his office teehee

Webslinger:

I thought reader maybe helping him tend to wounds from a recent fight? If you haven't done that already

I don't know if this was too much srry if this was too much,,,

Already did the borg parent one (and I'll do the blowie one l8r) so here's the Webslinger one!

Fuckin love this req <33

Obv not proofread, just wrote this as it came to mind :]

"Ow!"

Web-Slinger winced as you tightened the bandaging around his arm. "Sorry," You said softly, gently patting his arm before tying off the bandage. "S'fine," He sighed out, "It's my fault y'gotta tend t'me in th'first place."

"You were helping catch an anomaly, I wouldn't exactly say that it was your fault you got hurt." You lightly argued as you started to clean another wound that was on his leg, just under his knee. "Let's agree t'disagree." He shrugged slightly. He then winced as you applied medicine to the wound. "You got hurt because you were attacked from behind, that's not your fault." You continued to argue as you grabbed more bandaging. "S'my fault f'not bein' careful." He argued back. "Yes because you have eyes in the back of your head." You said sarcastically, earning a light chuckle from him.

"No, but most'a everyone 'ere has um.. Spider-sense. All I got is my rider-sense, n' that jus' connects me t'Widow. Doesn' really help me with dodgin' or-" Web-Slinger paused to inhale sharply as you tightened the bandaging around his leg; he then continued, "Or, uh, sensin' whats comin' towards me unless it's Widow. Feels like I should have that but I don't."

You gave him a puzzled look. ".. You know Miguel doesn't have spider sense either, right?" You asked. "Yet he ain't the one gettin' patched up right now." Web-Slinger shrugged. "I dunno. I don' want you thinkin' I can't protect ya or that I'm gonna come back n'.. not be okay." He admitted.

You looked at him with a soft gaze. ".. You know I can protect myself right? We both have the ability to do that, spider-sense or not." You said in a soft tone. He almost looked like a kicked puppy (just judging from the way his eyes on his mask moved.) "Yeah," He muttered out, "But," He clapped his hands against his thighs, "I promised t'protect what I could. N' that includes you."

"I'm not a civilian though, Patrick." You continued to speak softly, and you could see his gaze soften from kicked-puppy to calm. "I understand that, m'just.." He trailed off. "Worried because of my line of work? Since you know how dangerous it is?" You finished for him. You could see the fond smile in his eyes as he let out a quick, "Yeah." He then continued, "Especially when I can't handle these other villains. Makes me think y're handlin' somethin' I can't n' that just.."

"Hey," You lifted your mask and his bandana enough to show your mouths, and you laid a gentle kiss on his lips. "I'm not going to be your canon event, Patrick. I'm not from your dimension, I'm safe." You said, and you saw how he melted from the kiss and felt him wrap his arms around you. "Also my villains aren't too difficult, I kick their ass each time and you are stronger than me so I'm not worried." You added, making him chuckle. "If y'say so." He muttered before kissing you gently.

When he pulled back, his lips still grazed yours as he spoke, "Speakin' of our dimensions," he whispered, "Y'feel like lettin' me come over f'some alone time, darlin'? Promise I won't strain nothin'. 'Less y'want me to."

Reqs are Open! | Comms

#Kinda delved into an angsty thought with this one #just fun thoughts teehee #[ dr's stories ]#webslinger #web slinger #patrick o'hara #patrick o'hara x reader #webslinger x reader #web slinger x reader #atsv #across the spider verse #spider man across the spider verse

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imaginecolby · 2 years

Text

i got you || c.b.

summary: when colby has a little too much to drink, you spend the evening taking care of him.

colby wasn’t normally a messy drunk. he’d learned his limits pretty quick after a couple of run ins with people that he knew he shouldn’t have been messing with. that was more than enough encouragement for cutting himself off when he knew he’d had too much.

however, tonight was a different story. he’d been significantly stressed out about work. he and sam had taken on a much heavier work load than what they were normally used to. filming, editing, and traveling was beginning to hit him like a freight train. all of that on top of creator events they were being invited to, he felt like he needed a year long break.

you were sitting in the office with him, across the room on the couch reading a book. he was at his desk finishing up his portion of editing for the most recent video he and sam had filmed.

after a few hours of silence, colby let out a loud groan, startling you and pulling you out of your reading state.

“you okay?” you asked, looking up from the page.

“yes. i’m finally done.” he said. you set your book down and watched as he stood up from his chest and stretched out, cracking a few bones in his back. he walked over to the couch and you held out your arms as he crawled into your lap. he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and rested his head on your stomach. you lied there with him playing with his hair and rubbing his back for a little bit.

“so, what do we wanna do tonight?” you asked him.

“i wanna go out, just you and me. it’s been a while since we’ve had a proper date night.”

“mmm, that sounds good.” you said with a smile. he picked his head up and rested his chin on your chest.

“perfect.”

since it was getting close to dinner time, you and colby both showered and started getting ready. accidentally coordinating your outfits, which was actually pretty common in the years you’d been together, you snapped a couple of pictures with each other before heading out.

still having just moved to las vegas, there were still some places left for you to find. you drove to an area you were pretty familiar with, and came across a cute little restaurant that you hadn’t been to yet.

looking up the menu before going inside, you agreed to try it. the food ended up being amazing, as well as the ambiance. you and colby ended up spending a few hours there, ordering multiple drinks and appetizers, in addition to your entrees.

after dinner, you decided to walk to a bar that was down the street. it was one that you’d been to before, and remembered liking. neither of you was ready to head back home, so you decided on a few more drinks instead.

at the bar, you’d been nursing a second cocktail for a decent amount of time, while colby had already taken a few shots, as well as his usual drinks.

“do you need to talk about something? you’re throwing those back really fast.” you asked as he’d downed a fifth shot.

“i’ve just been so stressed with work, i need something to help me let loose.”

“we could’ve just stayed home and had sex if all you needed to do was let loose.” you teased.

“who says that’s off the table?” he asked, raising a brow at you. he stepped closer to you and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into him and pressing a kiss to your lips. you pulled away and laughed, rolling your eyes. he was getting bold, and you knew he was close to the point where he needed to be cut off.

by the end of the night, you’d stopped drinking and sobered up enough to get the two of you home. once you finally wrangled him out the bar and he drunkenly stumbled back down to your car, you’d gotten him in the car and buckled in safely.

“babe, drive slower. you’re making me dizzy.” colby moaned.

“my love, we are at a red light. just close your eyes and rest. we’re almost home.” you said.

once you finally made it back home, you helped colby get into the house. it felt like he was making every noise possible as he stumbled up the stairs.

“oh, i don’t feel so good.” he whined, placing a hand on his stomach. he let out a small burp, and you knew it was all over then.

he sprinted down to the hallway to his room, and you heard him start to heave.

“thank god we made it inside.” you sighed. you kicked your shoes off in the hallway and ran to meet colby in the bathroom. he was sitting up against the wall, taking deep breaths. you wet a wash cloth and placed it on his forehead.

“did you get it all out?”

“i think that was everything i’ve eaten in the past week.” he said softly.

“c’mon, lets get you to bed.” you said, helping him up from the floor. he stumbled over to the bed and you helped him change into his pajamas.

he sat at the edge of his bed, and you watched him as he swayed. he was zoned out so hard, you were worried he was gonna fall to the floor.

“here, for your head so you don’t feel like absolute shit tomorrow.” you said, handing him some aspirin and water.

“thank you baby. you’re too good to me.” he said, laying down.

“i got you, always.” you said, leaning down a pressing a kiss to his forehead. you yourself changed into your pajamas, and got into bed. you sat up in bed for a bit while colby began falling asleep, making sure that he didn’t throw up again. once he’d been asleep for a bit, you scooted down and made yourself comfortable, falling asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction

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samblackblog · 2 years

Text

7. Tempest

⎔ MASTERLIST ⎔ REQUESTS ⎔ TWILIGHT ⎔ BOUNDARIES ⎔

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: angst, anger/fighting, kind of smutty but not really, slow burn

A/N: How long has it been? Honestly no clue. Thank you so much for the continued support, even in my absence. I don't want to make excuses for the lack of updates but, this story is far from over and I will be updating more regularly. I'm recently out of hospital after losing all mobility so I'm relearning to use my hands so typing is hard, due to this updates will be slow (although faster compared to the wait between this chapter and the previous!) There are likely to be grammatical errors to due to this. I've tried correcting them all - bare with me.

also couldn't decide on a GIF, send me a better one and I'll replace it but maybe also might give another reward.

I've created a TAGLIST add your name if you wish to get updates

← Chapter 6 ▪️ Chapter 8→

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His answer echoes through every corner of your brain, exciting your heart once again, as you walk hand in hand to the edge of the forest and stare out at the house. The feeling lasted but fleetingly as dread overwhelmed the senses. Paul staying for dinner would mean meeting the parents and you’re not entirely sure you’re mentally prepared for the event. Infact, you’re not sure you ever would be. A squeeze to your hand brings your attention back to the present moment.

“I think I can handle parents” he teases with a second reassuring squeeze of the hand. You stare up at him, confusement present on your features.

“How did you know I was thinking-”

“Call it an educated guess,” he laughs as light twinkles in his eye. “Besides, I wouldn’t have said yes if I wasn’t prepared for the inevitability of meeting family.”

“At least one of us is prepared” you joke, exhaling deeply. Before another word could be spoken you started towards the house, giving him a small tug on the arm to follow so you couldn’t talk yourself out of it. Quick like a plaster was your mantra as you marched through the quagmire that had developed in the afternoon rain. Only briefly do you brace yourself for the onslaught of questions and then begrudgingly drag your feet up the stairs of the back porch. Relief washes over you at the sight of the empty kitchen as you push through the back door of the house, but it is short-lived as your mother makes an appearance in the archway that connects to the living room.

“Thought I heard someone” she sounds cheery as she moves to give you a hug. She gives a tight squeeze and then takes your face in her hands and looks deep into your eyes “how are you feeling sweetie?” She continues to inspect your face, for any clues as to what's going on in your mind.

“I’m good mum” you take her hands in yours and remove them from your face to give her a sweet smile. She accepts your answer, content that everything seemed well as she busies herself with the kettle on the stove as it starts to whistle. “In fact, I was wondering if perhaps… well, it’s just that…” the words start to stick in your throat as you realise this was the first time you were bringing a guy home. “Is it okay if I have a friend over to eat?”

“Honey, you know it is-”

“We don't even have to eat them.” Frank’s voice takes you by surprise as you turn to see him in the archway, his arms folded as he winks at you.

“Frank!” Your mother scolds, earning a chuckle from him. “Is it Sarah?” Your mother looks up from pouring the boiling kettle water into her mug as she asks the question.

“More likely to be the man who’s loitering outback” once again Frank surprises you as your mother’s face screws up into a questioning stare. You start to open your mouth to question him but Frank once again beats you to it “Who is the young man then?”. He’s got his official tough guy voice on, the one you’ve only heard a handful of times when he’s answered a work call. “Wouldn’t be the same one that brought you home unwell and drugged up from that party?” Your mother’s mouth drops open as you completely ignore Frank’s questioning and rush to the door as a feeling of loneliness spreads through your chest. Paul’s back disappears into the treeline you both had emerged from only minutes ago. The emptiness that engulfs you rips through painfully as it threatens never to be replaced by joy or happiness again. It commands your feet to run, splashing muddy water at your body as you slog through the mire. The shouts of Frank from the porch are nothing but white noise as the panic rises through you, cascading through your body in waves of numbness.

“Don’t go!” you try to shout but it comes out as a croaky whisper. “Don’t go!” you find your voice and start yelling at the top of your lungs as you come to halt in the growing darkness of the forest. “Paul?” you cry out, desperate for his presence to return. The darkness inside is swallowing you whole, not even the rustle of the bushes and the pounding of feet is enough to drag you from its depths and make you run. Instead you watch, numb and unmoving as a beast charges you.

You wake sitting bolt upright. Sweat beading across your forehead and running in rivulets down your temple. Hair sticks to the dampness created by the all to vivid dream. Your eyes scour your room searching for that beast in the morning light that creeps through the drawn curtains. After a few minutes you calm yourself and lay back down in the damp sheets, thinking over the events of the dream. Being in the forest, alone with Paul, the steamy kiss that felt so real you could almost feel it lingering on your lips; the echo of a ghost. You lay for a while trying to fall back asleep but feeling too deeply distracted. In a mood you force yourself up from bed, pulling yesterday’s clothes on which had been discarded in a heap on the floor. You make your way downstairs to grab some breakfast, knowing you should eat but finding the contents of the cupboard totally uninspiring so settle for a coffee. You lean against the kitchen counters sipping the hot brown liquid trying your hardest to fight the urge to get in the car and drive back to the reservation.

“What would you say you idiot?” You muse aloud, trying to convince yourself not to do it. “‘Oh, I’m back because I can’t stop thinking about you and a steamy kiss that never happened.’ no, I can’t…” you laugh at yourself while the memory of how close you’d come to kissing in the cabin pops up in your memory. You start busying yourself by washing up your mother and Frank’s breakfast dishes, looking out the kitchen window at the back yard, noting how unlike a quagmire it currently is and not at all like the dream when your eyes register a shape in the distant treeline. The breath in your lungs catches followed by a sharp inhale. The great beast is a dark grey brown in colour, blending in with the surroundings. You would have completely missed the creature if it wasn’t for the familiar feeling that licked at you and drew attention to its presence. Your view of the outside world is temporarily blocked by the kitchen wall as you move from the window to the door. Disappointment hits hard as you stand in the cold morning air on the porch, looking at nothing but trees.

You jump, startled by the clear ringing of the doorbell as it sounds around the house. With a sense of elation and the sound of drumming feet you race through the house to swing the front door open, hoping it’s him.

“Sarah?” You couldn’t hide the shock and annoyance at your friend being on the other side.

“Could sound a little less displeased!” She jokes barging her way into the house. You shake your head, realising you’d been rude and try to clear all thoughts of Paul away. You can’t help but smile at your friend as she makes herself comfortable in the kitchen, readying two mugs for coffee. The idea of making the drink causes the realisation to hit that Sarah should be at work. “What’s up?” She questions after spotting the look on your face in the window reflection.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” You prop yourself against the door frame awaiting an answer.

“You’re one to talk!” She glares in a half joking way but you detect an undertone of seriousness. “Not that you have a job anymore anyway…” she trails off leaving you straining to hear.

“Sorry?” You squeak out. Sarah busies herself moving the drinks to the kitchen table with an awkwardness as if suddenly uncomfortable in her own skin. Her bum plonks down onto a chair and she forces herself to take a sip of the far too hot liquid, you know she’s burnt herself as her face screws up in pain.

“Look,” she starts trying to piece together what to tell you. “It’s not for me to say” she tries to blow it off which earns her an eyebrow raise from you. “It’s really not my place-”

“Well you made it your place” you snap. “Tell me what happened to my job, please.” Your patience was running thin now. Sarah drums her fingers into the table top before finally speaking.

“The diner is currently closed, so there’s that aspect” she looks up at you from beneath her lashes, resentment etching her features that she was finding hard to hide. The diner being closed answered why Sarah wasn’t at work today.

“I’m sensing there's more to this” you probe while taking the chair opposite.

Sarah responds by ironically rolling her eyes “Well the only difference between our situations is mine’s temporary. Benny sees it as your fault, he’s mad-”

“At what?” You sit forward leaning on the table, eyes wide, wanting to know what your boss thought was your fault. “Why have I lost my job?” You start to shout.

“I totally agree that Benny deserved what he got, he was being a total ass, but Paul should have gone easy-”

You didn’t wait to hear what Paul had done. The gnawing feeling in your gut was all you needed to send you flying through the room, wasting no time in grabbing your shoes and keys. Sarah grabs your shoulder as she turns you to face her. She can see the wildness tearing through your eyes as fury rises. “Confronting him isn’t a good idea, surely what happened to Benny is enough for you to see how dangerous his temper can be-”

“His temper?!” You almost laugh, “Maybe he should be afraid of mine,” you almost snarl “Mine most certainly is match for any mans and if he thinks i’m going to roll over and let him-”

“Geeze okay, I’m coming. You’ll need all the backup you can get.” Sarah pushes aside her feeling of unease and the urge to say I told you so, wishing you’d left Paul alone when she warned you, and follows hot on your heels out the house.

Sarah actually ends up driving as her head is much clearer than yours. You pay little attention to the journey, focusing only on what you’re going to say. The desire to hold your ground floods your veins and drives your instincts, so much so that when the car pulls up in front of the familiar cabin you immediately jump from the vehicle and head towards a track on the opposite side of the clearing. Sarah’s voice calls after you from the driver's side of the car but it goes unheard as you march to the thumping of your heart in your ears. Emily, who had been preoccupied inside the cabin, heard the commotion caused by Sarah and appeared in the entrance way in time to see you trudging off towards where she knew the boys to be. Sarah and Emily share a brief worried glance before rushing to follow.

The sound of your feet slapping against the earth barely registers as you start running. Despite not knowing where you’re headed, you know it’s towards him. Explaining the feeling inside would be almost impossible; it’s deep, magnetic, instinctual. It’s like a moth to a flame, but also so much more than that. You’d have to experience it to know properly. A sweat starts to break out on your forehead or so you think, until the wetness starts feeling heavier and cold and realise it’s the start of rain. Not caring about getting wet, you carry on with your fast pace, putting some distance between you and the girls. Eventually the path you took emerges on the edge of a beach, the transition in terrain striking you as odd. The mud trail just stops and turns to sand, a few grass patches sporadically placed here and there. The sound of crashing waves dulls any other noise there might have been and for a brief moment you feel calm as you step out onto the beach and take a deep breath of sea air. If it wasn’t for the radar inside going off alerting you to his presence closing in, you would happily stay here and enjoy the scene. A familiar gnawing sets in as butterflies swim around your tummy. The ones you get every time he’s nearby, closing your eyes you can almost imagine the warmth of him as he wraps arms around you and the scent that sends heat rushing through your veins. It’s almost powerful enough to sweep aside the anger.

Almost.

You turn your attention to look up at the wide stretch of beach. Far off in the distance you believe you can make out shapes, or is it that feeling which confirms he’s there? One foot at a time you trudge through the sand that grows ever wetter by the second as the skies open even more. What was soft rain starts to pound down and run in rivlets down your face, soaking everything it touches. It drips from the tip of your nose and snakes its way down the neck of your top. Soon shivers set in so you wrap your arms around your torso to conserve heat. After five minutes the shapes in the distances have grown exponentially, you could make out their faces. It helped that they were moving towards you, probably heading to the cabin to seek sanctuary from the deluge. You stop moving since he’s coming towards you, not wanting to waste energy. A strong wind blows in off the sea and whips your hair around your face in a tangle of wet matts. Desperately you try to pull it off your damp skin and become increasingly frustrated. The frustration builds until it pushes you over the edge. It forces you to march up to the group, closing the last few metres. Paul stands in the middle, the smile that had etched his features dispurses as he registers your emotions. In hindsight this next move probably wasn’t the best decision, but you’re cold, soaked and quite frankly, fed up. Planting your feet into the sand you muster all the strength you can before shoving Paul in the chest. To say it catches him off guard is an understatement. It was so unpredictable it actually knocked him back a step or two. If he’d landed flat on his arse you’d have been happier but you think your point got across, loud and clear. To be extra sure, you allow yourself to shove him again, this time though he doesn’t budge. His hands shoot out to grab yours, stabilising your body, stopping any further movement to attack him.

“What the hell were you thinking?” you shouted through gritted chattering teeth, rain flying as your hot breath steams against the cold air. Paul’s breaths come in ragged sharp inhalations as he tries to remain calm. He releases the pressure on your wrists but doesn’t let go. “Let go of me,” you try to wriggle free from his restraints.

“What’s wrong with me?” he questions in response to the outburst, “What’s wrong with you?”. It wasn’t meant to sound harsh and judgemental, he really was concerned about you and whatever had caused this, but you took it the wrong way.

“You have no right, none whatsoever.” You hurl at him without actually knowing the full extent of the events. “Stay away from me.” This time he allows you to pull free from his grip, the force of which sends you stumbling. Quicker than what felt humanly possible he grabs your waist to stop you from falling. “Get off me!” Your voice grates hoarsely through your throat, as you give him one final shove. His silence irritates you, but perhaps it’s for the best. Walking away would be so much easier. Turning away from him sends pangs of guilt and hurt through your chest, as if you were physically tearing yourself apart. The feeling soon dissipates as he breaks silence.

“We’re not done here.” His voice bounces off the air sending waves of electricity over your skin. The hairs on your arm raise in response and the air in your lungs catches. It’s a tone of dominance hinting at a silent command to stay. Immediately you stop in your tracks. You should feel even more irate but the anger has been replaced by intrigue. Butterflies once again swarm your tummy as you bite back the lump in your throat. It’s the biggest betrayal, your heart beating your mind in this tug-of-war. Turning on your heel you catch the briefest of glances between the other guys as if they were sharing a silent conversation. Without giving you or Paul another glance they all carry on, their voices trail off into the distance but can be heard laughing and joking around for sometime. He waits, with the rain battering down on you both, until they’re out of earshot to speak again. You hadn’t noticed until now that he was once again shirtless, the rain running in perfect streams over his carved muscles. Despite the weather, heat rushes to your cheeks flushing them a pale pink colour as all kinds of thoughts sweep over your mind. You have to force yourself to look him in the eye to concentrate on the matter at hand. You see his mouth moving but struggle to hear the words over the sound of the rising winds. Forcefully you whip your head in an attempt to move hair off your face, the pressure of the wind growing stronger as it blasts you in the side. A glance at the sea reveals giant crashing waves pounding into the shoreline and despite being only the middle of the day, the sun hides behind sullen grey clouds, resembling late evening more than anything. You hug yourself as the cold really sets in, your bones feeling painful as they rattle inside.

“Come with me” you hear him this time as he shouts from beside you, his face mere inches from your ear. Having not noticed him move closer, this takes you by surprise. He looks down at you with all traces of anger removed and his features once again soft. He unhooks your hand from your side causing a gasp to release from you at the contact. The heat that radiates from him brings you back to life, you move to cling onto his arm. He wastes no time in leading you off the beach. Instead of heading to the trail that leads to the cabin he takes one that crops up sooner. You enter denser woodland following a less used pathway, neither one of you uttering a word but you’re silently thankful as the tree canopy protects you from the worst of the rain. The wind follows you, creating eerie noises as the trees groan under the pressure. Paul leads the way, his hand still enclosed over yours. You watch his back, the way the muscles contract with use. You can tell from the way his neck is tense that he's clenching, the tension between you undeniable. Thinking it was best to talk before arriving back at the cabin you try to break the silence by speaking his name. Whether it went unheard or deliberately ignored you had no clue. Silently you both march on until the trees grow thinner and a clearing starts to form. Soon you realise it was more than that; a meadow, sodden and now very much boggy, with long grasses scattered here and there. Although the rain was at its thickest, you could just about make out a cabin at the far end. Unlike Emily’s this one was not lit up, making it feel cold and unloved. If it wasn’t for the fact Paul acknowledged your apprehension with a gentle reassuring hand squeeze, you may have run in the opposite direction. Squelching through the mud you soon find yourself looking up at the two story building as it grows closer. From afar it had appeared to be small in size, and despite being smaller than a house, was substantial in comparison to Emily’s. Paul wastes no time in pushing open the front door, which you noted had not been locked. Upon closer inspection you realise the door doesn’t even have a lock. You push the door shut behind you, fighting against the wind but eventually winning, and find yourself in gloom. Instinctively you reach for a lightswitch. Finding one and giving it a flick you discover it doesn’t work.

“The power lines need reconnecting,” his voice breaks through the silence of the house as he appears from a different room carrying an LED Lantern. It casts a small warm glow as he walks around the main room, turning on a few more lanterns which reveal a sparsely furnished lounge-diner. Dust sheets cover the sofas and remnants of kitchen counters cling to the far wall. Sadness fills your heart at the realisation of what you see.

“Do you-” you bite back the lump that rises in your throat. “Do you live here?” you question.

“Sometimes” He shrugs, not wanting to open up. Who can blame him, not even an hour ago you’d hurled insults and physically attacked him. “You must be freezing” he changes subject and gestures for you to follow him through to the other room. Your surprise is evident at how different this room appeared to be. From the massive king sized bed standing in the centre and the chest of drawers, you knew it was a bedroom, but the cleanliness and orderly state didn’t match with the ramshackle, almost derelict appearance of the rest of the cabin. The walls had been freshly plastered and curtains hung from the windows. The bed had been left unmade which indicated he did live here. Another lantern turns on from within another doorway which reveals a large but plain bathroom. You stand dumbfounded in the middle of the room while Paul busies himself. You hear taps turning and the rushing of water before he comes back into view.

“The water’s on and there’s a clean towel…” he trails off.

Not knowing quite what to say and sensing the tension was still hanging thick, you thank him and enter the bathroom. Annoyingly you find there’s no door to the bathroom, but a quick peek showed that Paul was nowhere in sight. Stripping your wet clothes off seemed okay until it came to our trousers, which decided they wanted to cling to you. After wrestling with them for sometime you were finally free. The shower was fitted onto a tiled wall with a drain in the concrete floor, obviously the idea was for a wet room. Gingerly you turned the shower tap and jumped back as cold water hits you. With no sign of the water heating up you pluck up the courage to submerge yourself beneath it, managing to hold back the shriek that desperately tried clawing its way out. At least you could wash off the rain, somehow you always felt like rain was sticky. Soon you were exiting the cold water stream and wrapping a towel around your goosebump covered body. You quickly dried hoping that would warm you, but it didn’t.

Oh.

It dawned on you that your clothes were soaking and wouldn’t easily go back on. Securing the towel tightly around your body you peer into the bedroom again not knowing what to do. Lightning crashes outside, temporarily casting the room in pale blue light and causing you to jump. The shriek you’d kept at bay earlier finally makes an appearance. Thunder rumbles in the distance confirming this storm was far from done. Footsteps entering the room brings your focus back to reality, your eyes travelling to find him.

“You okay?” he eyes you worriedly.

“Lightning caught me by surprise,” your hands hold the towel with a white knuckle grip, afraid it would fall and expose everything. Sensing your awkwardness Paul diverts his gaze.

“I got you some dry clothes, they’ll be big on you but they’ll be warm.” he explains, moving over to the bed where a folded pile waits for you.

“Thank you.” It’s barely audible above the noises from outside but he manages to hear.

“Yeah well, least I could do.” he tells you nonchalantly, as if it meant nothing. He leaves you alone as he heads into the bathroom. Instantly you hear the shower and a blush creeps to your cheeks at how he obviously doesn’t care if you see anything. Not wanting to be indecent you move further into the bedroom and grab the clothes, you sift your way through them finding a long sleeve top, sweater and a pair of his underwear. You feel embarrassed as you slide your legs through the boxer shorts but know it’s better than nothing and are reassured by the thought that they probably look like regular shorts as they’re so big on you. The shower shuts off in the bathroom alerting you that soon you’d have company. Quickly you pull the top over your head followed by the sweater, which honestly was long enough to be a dress - not to mention hide the boxers! Your hair was a matted mess half covering your face, you squeeze as much water out of it using the towel before trying to run your fingers through it not wanting to look like a mess, especially when you sensed the fight from earlier would resume at some point. Feeling as though you looked half decent you sat down on the edge of the bed facing away from the bathroom towards the window. It had grown increasingly dark outside, between that and the rain you couldn’t make out much so resorted to staring at your hands in your lap.

Feet pad across the room behind you followed by the sound of drawers opening. For all you know he could be completely naked but you give in to temptation and glance. Your cheeks flush again as you take in the sight of Paul in nothing but boxers, an identical pair to those you have on. Feeling bad, you avert your eyes but not before he registered your gaze on his back and the change in your mood which floods his senses. As much as he’d kill to entertain the thoughts presently burrowing into your brain, he can’t ignore what happened earlier. Your words had stung. He leans back on the drawers, hands gripping the surface. He studies you for a second, watches as you bring your legs up towards your chest and plant your feet precariously on the bed frame. Protectively your arms wrap around your legs. He knows how vulnerable you feel right now so decides to take a gentle approach.

“Talk to me” he prompts, trying to coax out of you what had happened.

“Or you tell me” you throw back, sounding rather childish. Your chin comes to rest on your knees in defeat. You take a deep breath in, Paul’s scent overwhelms you as it lingers on the clothes, and you decide being angry is exhausting. “Tell me why I lost my job.” You mumble.

“Son of a bitch” you hear him sigh. Turning your head slightly, you see him rub his eyes in frustration. “I can’t believe…” Your eyes bore into him and in response his grip on the furniture tightens. There's a sound of creaking wood, aside from that of the wind on the building, your eyes widen in shock at the realisation. You jump up and find yourself walking towards him with your gaze fixated on his hand. He releases it as you grab his fingers, pulling them towards you for closer inspection.

“What the hell… how?” you look at the wooden drawers and sure enough there’s a split running along the top. Surely his hand would be hurting. “I don’t understand-”

“Your boss needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.” If you were anyone else he’d have snatched his hand away, but he liked the softness of your skin on his. More importantly he liked your concern for him. He hadn’t exactly believed you wanted him to stay away but your words had caused a wound, which did seem to be healing itself in your presence. Despite wanting to know what had happened to your job, you didn't press for information. It appeared Paul was more than willing to share, perhaps it was the calming feeling you were flooding his senses with or the fact that your touch was bringing down his tough exterior, but right now he couldn’t refuse you anything.

“He was going around saying you couldn’t handle your drink, that underage drinking should be punished and some bullshit about you getting off because of your stepfather.” The words start tumbling from his mouth as he becomes distracted with the hand on his. He flips the roles, taking yours in his gigantic palm, tracing circles over the back with his thumb. He won’t look you in the eyes as he continues. “Told him to mind his business, that he had no clue what was going on but he didn’t like that. He never really liked me but especially not after I punched him.”

“You what?” your mouth drops, “No wonder I’m fired!” Your voice rises as you realise this will get back to Frank and it sure as hell will look like it was done on your behalf. A groan escapes your lips.

“He deserved it, that’s all you need to know.”

“All I need to know?” you scoff, “Don’t presume to know what I do or don’t need to know” you try to scold but it comes across too gently.

“Trust me,” he finally looks you in the eye, not once breaking the hand contact. “Don’t make me repeat some of the awful things that the bastard said '' his jaw clenched tightly whilst his eyes dilated, filling you with sadness. He’s hurting just as much as you and although you’re more than capable of handling your own battles, he doesn’t know that. “I feel very protective of you” he says softly, as if reading the thoughts you were having. His eyes are trained on your face, trying to read how you had taken that information but all of a sudden you have the best poker face anyone has ever had. For the first time, Paul couldn’t read the situation and it frustrated him to no end.

You close off the last few inches that had separated you from each other. His grip on your hand tightens as he feels your body against his and the change in your scent, which suddenly gives your intentions away. You reach up on tiptoes in order to level the playing field, if Paul hadn’t been leaning on the drawers he’d be towering above you. Gingerly you bring your face to his, your breath hitching as excitement courses through you. You don’t hesitate too long, afraid the nerves will get the best of you. Quickly you place a chaste kiss upon his lips before retreating. You look up at him before bursting into laughter and bury your head in his chest.

“Sorry, that was meant to be so much more but I… I’ve never… I don’t know… I just wanted that not to be lame and it so was…” you mumble against his chest, trying to hide the embarrassment you feel. The laughter had surprised him, temporarily making him think he’d missed the punchline of a joke, or that perhaps he was the joke. Within seconds it dawned on him and he finally understood. He knew you were different to any of the other girls he’d been with, the biggest of those differences being that you two were destined for each other; his mate, his imprint. The other, less noticeable, difference was in your scent. An undertone that was delicate yet addictive, which had been driving him crazy trying to work out. Finally he understands. It may have gone unspoken but you know he’s worked it out from the way he delicately holds you and pushes the hair from your face to how he lowers his face to the crook of your neck and takes a deep breath in.

“It’s okay,” He whispers reassuringly, “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” The effect of his breath hitting your neck drives you crazy. Tingles traverse your spine and it takes every ounce of control not to let your knees buckle. Your fingers grip his thumb tightly in an attempt to keep you grounded but it doesn’t work. Short rapid breaths leave your mouth as you turn your face to his, causing his heart to thump in his chest as he tries to remain still. He gives in a little, moving just enough to allow him to see into your eyes. Your nose brushes his chin as you move up once more to tip toes, your hand which was free comes to rest on his abdomen for extra support. You become aware that his hand is on your hips to keep you flush to him, so that you can feel his rock hard muscles and the way they move. You only break eye contact briefly as you glance at his lips. You know he’s watching every move intently but this time it doesn’t bother you, doesn’t make you nervous or shy. Instead it boosts you, knowing he wants this just as much by the way you can feel the pound of his heart. You make the connection, your soft lips meeting his with the lightest of touches. It quickly deepens as you grow used to the feeling of Paul against you, leaving you craving more of him. Your mouth moves against his as your hand travels to his neck releasing his thumb, allowing him the use of that hand to steady you as you reach up higher on your toes. The grip on your waist tightens as pressure hits your hip bone which encourages you as it sends electricity raging through the nerves. If it wasn’t for your ribs, your heart may have broken free of your body due to the pace it was currently keeping. A pain enters your lungs as if they were on fire causing you to break the kiss. You suck air in greedily as you remember how vital it was for survival.

“Don’t forget to breathe” he whispers, also breathless. Briefly he touches his forehead to yours as you sink back down onto your feet, fighting the lightheadedness. It doesn’t take long for his face to refind the crook of your neck and place a kiss on your collar bone. Behind his neck your fingers lace into his hair as he places kisses along your jaw before finding your lips once more. You're ready for his assault and welcome it as you suck in his lower lip, instincts taking over completely as your fingers grip tightly in his hair, eliciting a soft moan from him that resonates through you. His hands release themselves from your waist and find the hemline of the jumper on your thigh, his fingers graze over your skin and leave goosebumps in their wake as they travel higher. You move your thighs tighter together upon instinct, as pressure builds, but also as a silent warning for him to leave there well alone. Paul, being a decent guy, had other ideas anyway, his hands roamed further than your thighs and came to reside on your back, the skin on skin contact sending more shivers up your spine and a gasp from your mouth. His mouth once again travels back to the crook of your neck. Here your scent is sweetest and he can feel the beat of your pulse travelling your jugular. He smiles against your skin as he revels in the idea that he caused this effect on you. You hadn’t noticed the slight graze on your skin from stubble earlier but now, as you're left anticipating his next move, you’re aware of everything. His breath is hot and heavy like yours but perhaps better regulated and you can’t help but wonder why he’s smiling, all thoughts are soon banished as he plants a kiss, the graze of stubble making your eyes flutter at the sensation. You whisper his name and in response his hand moves to your waist, letting cold air touch your skin as the movement stirs the jumper. It all adds to the pleasure. You want his hands to travel further up, to feel his touch on your breasts, but he’s holding back. Instead he starts littering more kisses along your neck before sighing.

Oh god. Why’s he sighing? What’s wrong? You start questioning everything, getting inside your own head.

“Why did I give you a jumper?” He lets out a little chuckle as he leaves a kiss by the neckline of the fabric, unable to go any further. You respond with an involuntary whine at the thought of not feeling his mouth continuing it’s decent. Hearing the noise escape your lips stirs something in Paul that makes him grip your hips so tight it makes you gasp, which doesn’t help his control in this moment. He forces himself to go slowly as he once again goes back to that sweet spot, fueled by primal instinct. You’re his and he wants everyone to know it. He places one final gentle kiss before attaching his lips in a suction over your soft skin. To his delight you let out a moan as he continues to suck at the spot. After a minute he gives up his position and leans away from you, taking in your appearance. You're staring up at him with big doey eyes and lips swollen and parted. His hands slide out from the jumper and move to the neckline, pulling the material aside for optimal viewing. A wicked smile dances across his lips before his hands move to find yours and hold them, giving them a squeeze as a blush creeps onto your features.

“You okay?” He asks, bringing one of your hands to his lips and placing a kiss on top. As you come back to reality the events flood back in and you start to over analyse, wondering how stupid you must have sounded moaning or if you did anything incorrectly. “Hey,” he snaps you away from your thoughts “Stop” he whispers and places a kiss on your forehead before asking “Do you overthink everything?” You feel his mouth move into a smile as he teases you.

“Yes” you say through a shaky breath, not yet fully recovered. You swallow to regain yourself “something you’ll have to get used to” you try to match his joky tone but he manages to turn it serious once more.

“I look forward to it.”

---

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