#refreshments are in the lobby

[andy-clutterbuck]

Red Nose Day | 2016

#HE #Andrew Lincoln #* #andygifs #excuse me but The Nose™ #andy vs. the straw iconic tbh #rogue neck fuzzies 💙 #clutterbuck i s2g #just drink your drink peacefully #even his adams apple is nice i hate myself #'Even His *Blank* Are Nice I Hate Myself' the title of my TED talk #refreshments are in the lobby #thanks for coming #H A N D S #one day your lips will not make me want to bust through a wall like the koolaid man #red looks pretty on ya

[taxi-davis]

#bandcamp #BYSON #lobby (interlude) #refresh #music #audio #vaporwave #hiphop #beats

[byakugoseal]

There’s a meta below! Under a cut because I got carried away! Please let me know your thoughts in the comments below because a lot of though when into this bad boy!

Sakura should have been given a chance to further develop her skills post chunin exams long before Tsunade’s tutelage. It was clear early on that she had immense chakra control and an intellect to go with it  — albeit she had the vaguest idea of her own strength and self-worth, impacting her abilities. Unlike the rest of her classmates she did not come from a clan or a family of shinobi and therefore was ill prepared for that life style, she did not get taught from a young age how to harness her own power and abilities. Rather, she was left to think on the life and use what she learned in the academy to help her to fight. While I can concede that at the start she gave more interest in boys and crushes than she did fighting, that should have not impacted her learning. 

During her formative years she should have been taught genjutsu and taijutsu both of which would have gone a long way for her, especially taijutsu when paired with her immense physical strength. Learning these could have paired very well with her chakra control and strength she would develop later on in her life. Her actions and behaviors were also way over played in the anime for laughs (even though none of us were laughing) and how she is depicted in the manga differs but, again, I digress. 

Sakura should have been allowed to fight Sasuke, that could have been a great turning point for her character. By all means she would have ( and should have ) lost. Sasuke is years ahead of her in ability and battle strength, however, she could have held her own for a few moments  — but alas she was saved not once but TWICE. Now, I do not think she would have been able to kill him, her own feelings and emotions towards him run far too deeply for that. However, fighting Sasuke and LOSING would have given her that extra push towards validating her own strength and recognizing that she too was getting stronger. This would have motivated her to do more and become even better that kind of set back of holding her own against Sasuke and losing only to have Kakashi and Naruto step in at that point would have pushed her into her own studies. She could use that loss as motivation to become even stronger, not only in her medical prowess but in her combative jutsus. 

During the war she MANUALLY pumped Naruto’s hear ( which is no easy feet ) in order to save his life. There is a certain point in which it is determined that once “all possible life saving measures have been taken” those measures and efforts can be stopped. However, she chose to MANUALLY pump his heart in order to keep him alive despite her chakra being almost depleted at this point ( not to mention that she held her own and punched a literal goddess on the top of her head once she realized where the blindspot was, but I digress ). She went to GREAT lengths during the war to keep everyone alive, pushing herself to her limits. This was made possible through years of training not because of a tailed beast sealed within her, coming from a great clan or even having a kekkei genkai. 

And on the topic of her “usefulness” or lack there of, Kishi never gave her a chance to be part of the main narrative but rather used her as a damsel in distress trope in needing of saving when she could have actually contributed quite a bit had she been given a chance. If she never contributed to the story or the characters’ lives and could have “easily been replaced by any other medical nin” how come she was the only one who was able to understand Sasori’s poison and make an antidote with very limited information? Yes, she had many faults but you have to take into consideration that not only was she a first-generation ninja but up until Tsunade she was never given the time or chance to develop her own skills and training ( not to mention Kishi just using her and most of the other female characters as a plot device but, once again, I digress ).

#✧ ･ ° ･↣ ❛ she wore her troubled past like scars / she had been through battle & came out alive ❜(character study) #//if you made it to the end thank you for coming to this tedtalk there are refreshments in the lobby!

[supercantaloupe]

waiting outside the concert hall watching everyone pass by to go inside like a poor little orphaned beggar boy on the streets of victorian london cause the person who has our tickets hasn't arrived yet

#sasha speaks #theres a chamber youth(?) orchestra playing carols in the lobby. and also decorations and lights and Refreshments inside. let me in...

[buckets-and-trees]

What You Want

Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: lawyer!Bucky x curvy!female assistant reader Word Count: 2.7k Summary: Your boss, powerful lawyer Bucky Barnes, insisted he needed his indispensable assistant to accompany him on his trip to Norway. He also promised he would have you home in time for Christmas, but the weather decided to strike its wrath and decimate international travel, leaving you stranded for a few more days.

Content Warnings: modern AU, slight power dynamic, periphery/secular reference to the Christmas holiday, vaginal fingering, use of "plum" as a term of endearment

Logistical Notes: Written for @sstan-hoe Vee's Holly Jolly Challenge - I was given a selection of prompts including "That noise...keep making it," reindeer, and lawyer/assistant power dynamics. Also my December entry for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky-Bingo using the FLASHBACKS prompt. Divider by @saradika.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You heard the door open and close behind you and then familiar footsteps approaching, but you didn’t turn to look, instead keeping your eyes on the beauty of the frozen wilderness on display before you.

“Peace offering?” Bucky spoke as he stepped up beside you at the rail of the balcony, holding one of two steaming mugs in his hands toward you.

You sighed but gave him a small smile and took the mug. “You don’t need to apologize. You’re a very powerful man, Bucky, but I’m relatively sure you don’t control the weather.”

“Not yet, but I’m trying to pull some strings,” he said with a smirk, and you smiled.

“It’s not your fault we can’t get a flight back to the States when a blizzard has taken out half the Eastern Seaboard.”

It was unlikely that even with all of James Buchanan Barnes’ considerable lawyering power and money that he would be able to get you back home before Christmas. The main international airports in New England would have to live through the record raging blizzard, dig out, and then there would be hundreds of thousands of passengers to accommodate in and out of the country. Reasonably your guess was that you wouldn’t be returning until as early as the day after Christmas at the earliest.

“I should still apologize though. I said I would have you home for Christmas.”

You took a sip of the hot coffee. “You should apologize, but you’re not.”

He smiled. “No, I’m not.”

He turned and looked out over the forest and frozen tundra with you, the snow sparkling by the moonlight. This side of the resort hotel Bucky had booked the two of you into looked out over the wilderness.

“How long are you going to stay out here?”

“Until I see a reindeer. You brought me to Norway in December. I want to see a wild reindeer.”

“Fair enough.”

After a few more minutes, Bucky spoke again. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat, though? They said our accommodations should be ready after dinner.”

It had been a bit of a feat to find any place this close to Christmas that wasn’t closed or completely booked, but Bucky had managed to find this place that although they said they didn’t have a place immediately available, they had late check outs that just needed to be cleaned and refreshed for new guests.

“It’s a very fine restaurant.”

“Alright, let’s go eat.”

“If that will be all for the evening, I’ll be happy to escort you to your suite, Mr. Barnes,” the maître d’ said. He had been attentive all evening, but being with Bucky on this business trip you had quickly learned only the most excellent service was a common thing for him.

“Yes, thank you, I think we’re finished,” Bucky replied, looking to you, and you nodded. You both scooted your chairs back from the table and then followed the man out of the restaurant, through the hotel lobby, past the bar, past the observatory lounge and balcony you’d visited earlier, and to a pair of elevators.

Dinner had been quiet, but not an uneasy quiet by any means for the two of you. Bucky was an intimidating man, power emanating from him very naturally, but after the first few weeks as his assistant, you had gotten over your nerves. After sitting with him through many lunches, plenty of meetings, taking notes from him on cases and projects, and a fair few late nights, you had grown comfortable around him, learned that he could be easy to talk to, but didn’t strive to fill a silence for conversation’s sake, something you appreciated.

The hotel Bucky had found was an upscale, moderately sized wilderness and ski lodge. When you arrived on the fifth and top floor, there was a cozy hallway that only boasted three doors, and you were led to the one at the very end, where the man unlocked the door, stepped in to hold it open, and then handed the key to Bucky.

“If you should need anything at all, simply pick up the phone and our staff will assist you,” he said. “Have a good evening, and we hope you enjoy your stay, even though we know it was unexpected for the holiday.”

“Thank you, dinner was fantastic, and the place looks wonderful, you’ve been great, Lucas. Have a good night,” Bucky said, and pressed what you were sure was a generous tip into the man’s hand.

All your and Bucky’s things had been left neatly to one side of the entry of the suite. A quick look around revealed that there were two rooms off either side of the spacious sitting area as well as a small kitchen and bar, and on the far side full floor to ceiling windows and a balcony. You had hoped for two rooms like you’d had at the previous hotel, but two rooms in a suite would be perfectly fine, especially since the stunning view out of the sitting room’s windows wasn’t the only beauty in the place. There was a fireplace with a gorgeous mantle with a roaring fire already ablaze and a stunning Christmas tree with gorgeous trimmings in the Scandinavian style.

“It’ll do, yes?” Bucky asked, watching you take in the beauty of the tree.

You smiled warmly at him, then looked back at the tree. “Yes, it’ll do just fine.” The sitting room was spacious and rivaled your cozy studio apartment back home for size. You stepped further into the suite. “Do you want to take a look at the rooms and pick which one you want?” you asked. All the trip was on the company’s expense account, and as his assistant, although you suspected he might be a gentleman and offer you the better room, you would defer to Bucky to actually pick.

“We’ll share whichever one is better,” he said with a shrug.

You scoffed. “No, there are two rooms in this gorgeous suite, I’m sure they’re both fantastic, I don’t mind taking the one you don’t want. Might even sleep on the couch so I can stay by the tree and look out those windows all night.”

He chuckled, low, and suddenly at your back. “You misunderstand me, plum,” he said, placing his hands on the curve of your hips and pressing his chest up against your back. He leaned in to speak the next words directly in your ear. “I’m having you in my bed tonight.”

Your breath caught.

You couldn’t move, and a soft, “Mr. Barnes,” was all you could say.

“Aw, none of that, plum, you haven’t called me Mr. Barnes for months, and I won’t it happening again now.”

“We shouldn’t,” you tried to protest, but even as you said the words, a traitorous part of you didn’t put much feeling behind them.

“Shouldn’t we? You’re smart enough to know I didn’t really need to bring you on this trip with me, but I wanted to. Didn’t want to go that long without seeing you, wanted you by my side in a charming Nordic country during the height of its festive season, and you said yes, like the perfect assistant that you are. I told myself that was enough, didn’t go knocking on your door any of the nights we were at our first hotel, kept it professional despite wanting more and more of you every day we spent together away from the office.”

His hand moved from your hips to circle around your front, his left moving over your soft stomach over to the other side to rest over the front of your right hip, and his right further up your torso, his hand brushing the underside of your breast and resting firmly just below it, bringing you flush against him.

“Fate won’t let me get you home for Christmas, so why deny what it’s dangling right in front of me now?”

He pressed his lips to the sensitive spot just below your ear, and a small whimper escaped your throat.

“Let me have what I want,” he murmured, leaving a slow trail of more kisses down your neck. “I know you want it, too.”

“I – no, I don’t – I”

It was impossible to put up the words of protest when he licked the shell of your ear. You shivered in his arms instead.

“Let me ruin my perfect girl,” he pressed, slipping the hand that was at your hip into the waistband of your trousers. His hand stopped when his fingers met the lace edge of your panties. He turned you around abruptly and kissed you full on the mouth, cupping your face with both hands so you had no choice but to take the heat of his kiss, and the flame he’d been sparking started to catch more dangerously in your core.

He had somehow maneuvered you further into the sitting room so that when he suddenly broke off the kiss, you were in the middle of the space, the warm glow of the fire and the tree lights casting over you both.

Bucky stepped back, and you frowned in confusion, still breathless. He trailed a finger up the column of your throat to the tip of your chin, his blue eyes dark and hungry. “Undress,” he said.

He moved to the couch and sat, his eyes returning to you as he settled in.

“Undress,” he repeated.

That commanding tone struck another spark right to your cunt. You knew you were already growing wet for him.

You toed off your shoes one at a time, then took off your socks – those requiring you to move a little less elegantly than you wanted with his searing gaze on you. Standing aright again, your hands moved to the button of your trousers, fingers trembling since you had never stripped in front of anyone before. You weren’t a virgin, but although the partners you had been with before had been eager to have you naked, none had ever asked you to undress for them like this, like they wanted to see your full figure, not just fuck it.

Bucky spoke your name in a way that had you pause and look up at him again.

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “You know I pride myself on my instincts. I think we both want this, but there are two rooms here.”

You bit your lip.

He was offering the veiled choice if you wanted it.

Your mind raced with flashbacks of conversations and thoughts you’d had over the past few weeks clear back to the first few meetings with your boss.

Insisting to your mother that your boss did absolutely need you to fly with him to Norway to assist him with meetings with an international client the week before Christmas.

Your best friend insisting on a shopping trip for your fancy work trip to a foreign country “because if your hot boss isn’t going to seduce you, have a foreign fling!”

Your heart stuttering the first time your eyes met your boss’s deep blues the day you interviewed with him.

The same eyes that were riveted on you now.

On you.

You unbuttoned your trousers and lowered the zipper. You glanced down as the fell to the floor, then stepped carefully out of them. When you looked back up, you saw even more hunger in Bucky’s eyes, and it warmed your blood. Looking right into those eyes, you reached for the hem of your sweater and lifted it up and over your head, letting it drop to the floor as well.

“Mmm,” he hummed in approval. “C’m’ere,” he beckoned, sitting back on the couch again, but beckoning you into his lap as he watched your every move.

You concentrated on his eyes and on keeping your breathing steady. When you were close enough for him to reach for you, he held out his hand. You took it and let him pull you gently down to straddle your legs on either side of his.

“My perfect plum,” he murmured. His hands moved up your thighs, over your hips, up your waist, and back down.

“Your plum?” you asked, watching his face as his eyes roved over you up close.

“My perfect plum - I want to savor every delicious curve of your body,” he said before dropping a kiss to the top of your breast. Your hands went to his shoulders to steady yourself. “When I felt that lace of your underwear, I thought maybe you did want this, too.” His lips moved to the other breast where he kissed the exposed skin, then traced his tongue along the edge of the lacy cup, causing you to shiver. “There isn’t any other reason you would be wearing such pretty lingerie, is there?”

“No,” you admitted immediately.

“Just for me,” he said as he moved his hand to your mound and immediately slipped a finger beneath the fabric to stroke along your folds, making you gasp. “Good girl, already wet for me.”

You keened as his finger traced your warm hole but didn’t go in, instead taking the slick there and pressing it up over your folds. He continued tracing them up and down before moving up to find your clit, knowing he found it the second your head dropped back, and you let a, “Yes,” tumble from your lips. “More.”

His other hand skimmed up from your hip, up your side, to your neck, and then angled your head back down for another kiss. Your lips met his eagerly, mouths parting, you licked into his mouth, and he growled his approval. He moved his finger from your clit, but your whine was brief as he slipped that finger along with a second straight into your cunt, stroking in and out, over and over again. You canted your hips into his hand, and you felt the rumble of a chuckle in his chest, but he didn’t stop kissing you. Instead, he curled his fingers forward with each stroke, quickly finding the spongy spot that made you tremble and moan.

Breathless, it was you who had to break off the kiss first, but you pressed your forehead to his. “Feel good, plum?” he asked, and you registered that he sounded as earnest as you felt, his voice deep and a little breathless, too.

“Yes, sir,” you gasped.

“Mmm, sir? I like that,” he said, and rewarded you by moving his thumb to start circling your clit.

You moaned openly.

“That noise…keep making it.”

He sped up his motions just slightly, seeming to feel how your body was tensing up, building toward a powerful release.

“Ready to cum for me like a good girl?”

“Yes, sir!” your answer was more like a plea. “So close.”

Keeping up the rhythm on your clit, he applied more pressure with each thrust of his fingers up inside of you, hitting that sensitive spot on the front of your walls, and with just a few more strokes, the wave crested and rolled over you.

“That’s it, plum,” he cooed as you trembled above him, his other hand coming to smooth unhurriedly up and down your back as his fingers continued to stroke your channel, slowly extending your orgasm. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

He removed his fingers and brought them up to your mouth. You sucked them in, laving your tongue over them. “Can’t wait to see you come for me again,” he said. And too impatient for you to lick his fingers clean, he withdrew them and crashed his lips back into yours.

“Earlier tonight when I said I should apologize, and you called me right out for not doing any such thing?”

“Yes?”

“This is why I didn’t apologize. I was in no way sorry that I had more time with you, and I’m going to use it to take you apart and put you back together all night.”

You would think about all of this later. But he emptied your head of anything but him and the pleasure between you, making more than good on his promise to take you apart until you were completely spent and ruined in his bed.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x curvy reader #babb2023 #vee's holly jolly challenge #aspen wrote somethinig

[yandere-romanticaa]

masterlist.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍! who's the talk of the town once he moves and settles in. The gossip started to pool in mostly due to his looks. He wasn't necessarily what one would call "conventionally attractive" but there was this air to him that was impossible to ignore. It was hard to find him anywhere throughout the day because he spent almost all of his time in the morgue, regardless if his work hours had long since passed. The only time he could really be seen was if you would be lucky enough to see him in the wee hours in the morning, large briefcase in hand and heading straight towards the usual destination. Small amounts of people would gather in the coffee shops and spy on the man. Gossip spread like wildfire but no one had the guts to actually approach him.

One chilly October morning, you decided to be brave. Pushing your insecurities aside your curiosity ended up getting the better of you. There was no turning back.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍! who's caught off guard by your sudden and bold approach but he doesn't mind.

As a matter of fact, he finds it quite refreshing.

He's not saying much as the day is just a bit too early for him and despite his drowsiness, he is paying attention to you like a hawk. His soft brown eyes are focused on your lips, listening to your every word. You invited him out on a coffee but he frowns - he has to work. A serial killer has been on the loose recently and due to that individual his work keeps piling on. Families need closure and he is an important part of that process. With a sad sigh he declines your generous offer and your demeanor is like that of a balloon which was violently popped, by his own hand none the less. He feels a bit guilty and proposes the idea that you actually come to his place of work if you're so keen on getting to know him. It was a little twisted of him but he was curious to see how fast you would shoot him down on this offer but the opposite happened.

You accepted it in a heartbeat.

Well, now he has to tidy everything up.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍! who can't help but to feel a little starstruck once he actually meets you on this would-be coffee date. He actually prepared a selection of teas in advance just in case you didn't actually like coffee, along with an assortment of snacks to boot. You sit in the lobby and make small talk with each other. The atmosphere is comfortable as soft music plays in the background, ranging from the latest pop music to classical violin. He doesn't like the quiet, he confesses to you. He can't do anything properly because the silence is too deafening to him.

He doesn't tell you that the sound of your voice is like lovely rain on a hot summer day to him. Cooling, refreshing. Perhaps a little bit necessary. His work hours are long and odd and the only people that surround him are not even alive.

That's his own fault though. His urges are too much to handle, sometimes. He has no one else to blame for enhancing his work other than himself.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍!, who starts to make room in his schedule for you whenever he can. Ideally, he doesn't actually like bringing you to the morgue. The place where he works is dark, desolate and cold.

That is no place for the likes of you.

No, he likes to see you bask in the warmth of the sun with a hot beverage in your hand, a goofy smile on your lips as you tell him the plot of the last book you read or the game you had played. He never has the heart to tell you to stop, your excitement is far too precious to him.

He is aware that he is not the easiest person to approach. Aside from the fact that people get a little jumpy once they learn that he works with the dead, his personality isn't much to brag about either. Whilst polite there's a level of dryness to him, a lack of humanity which other people are not so keen on. His shoulder black hair is always messy and, yes he will admit it, his fashion choices are a tad bit archaic. He's gotten an earful from strangers that he looks less like a man from the 21st century and more like a vampire from an 18th century gothic novella.

He knows those are not meant to be taken as compliments but he still sees them as such.

You like to tease him for his fashion choices and make an attempt to improve his wardrobe but you don't want to do too much. Truth be told, you like the way he looks but you don't dare tell him.

If he were to find that out his ego would go through the damn roof.

Within weeks, his closet was filled with comfortable blazes, a sweater or two, some casual t-shirts and some fresh, crisp white button ups that go along with pretty much anything and everything. He gave you the liberty of picking everything out for him.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍!, who starts to act more like a member of polite society rather than a reclusive shut in. You took his hand and showed him a glimpse of the world, just how beautiful everything can be. There are so many colors and smells, all so dominating and sweet. You take every chance you can to get him outside even if he's not very fond of the sun. You chastise him for how pale and sickly he looks as you shove food at him, his lanky body showing obvious signs that he was not eating properly.

He simply was not hungry. Food could never satisfy him. He only ate because his body demanded so of him. And for you, of course. He would never turn down any food you gave to him. Ever.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍!, who starts to become sloppy. His cuts are imperfect and his concentration has never been worse. He stares down at the corpse on his steel table, the bright light above him giving the dead hunk of flesh an unearthly aura of peace. With his gloved hand he reached for the poor victims cheeks, which have now gone hollow and dead. Your face suddenly flashes through his head, your giggles filling his ears, in a manner similar to that of when a person is submerged under water.

What would happen if this were you?

He never could have imagined that he could ever be this charmed by another human being.

For his entire life all he has ever had were his books, notes and his own gloomy company. He was not deserving of someone like you, a creature that thrived among the living. He suddenly stabbed the corpse beneath him with his scalpel, his hand shaking from the rage which overtook him.

Why couldn't he be alive like that?

What was wrong with him?

He could never get along with human beings, no matter how hard he tried. He stopped trying ages ago because the harder he tried, the more he failed.

There was no denying the fact that he was a freak of nature.

An abomination.

If he cannot function around the living he could always turn towards the dead. They made for much better company anyway, always there to listen to him and his woes.

It was frightening how much he relied on you now. His sanity was in your hands and you had no clue.

How cruel.

He hated you. He was beyond envious of your ability to function like a normal human being. All the things which you had perceived to be normal were nothing but pure anomalies to him. And yet, the more he hated you the more he craved you. He could never regret the decision of allowing you to enter his life. It was nice to be wanted.

He loved it when you wanted him.

Do you want him in the same manner in which he wants you? Did you possess the same wicked desires which he did? Human beings are all the same when push comes to shove. Their true colours are shown once they're faced with death.

And suddenly, he knew what he was going to do later that week.

🥀 𝐀/𝐍: I'm not good with creating original characters and I apologize for that. However! I keep having the same dream over and over and I just thought that it would be neat to turn them into entertainment for the rest of the world to see. Please share your thoughts and opinions with me, they are always highly appreciated!

#yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere scenarios #yandere male #yandere mortician #yandere mortician x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere moodboard

[demonic0angel]

Hotel AU

Jason groaned, holding a military grade field dressing to his wound as he tried his best to walk faster. Gunshots rang behind him and instinct allowed him to dodge, but one bullet still managed to graze him by the shoulder. It only made pain flare up worse, but Jason just sucked in a breath through his teeth and toiled onward to get to safety.

His comms buzzed in his ear, but no one was available at the moment. Jason still muttered a soft, "Requiring backup."

No one answered.

Jason, for an existential crisis-having moment, wondered if he was gonna die again.

Just as he thought this, a hand grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into another building.

Jason cursed and pulled out his gun with his unfortunately injured hand and pointed it towards his assailant, but then paused.

He had been pulled into a beautiful, first class looking hotel area.

"What the..." he started, before he turned.

An enormously tall woman smiled down at him. She was outrageously beautiful, with long red hair tied into a ponytail and a neat uniform covered by an apron. "Welcome, sir, to the Phantom Hotel! You seem to be in need of some assistance, would you like some help?"

Jason felt eerily calm and level headed, even as he bled all over the floors. "... that'd be nice." He said gruffly.

"Right away, sir." She said with a smile. She waved to someone over to his side and continued to speak. "I'm the co-owner of this hotel, you may call me Jazz. May I get your name for registration?"

Jason still didn't freak out yet. "Registration?" He echoed, as he took in his surroundings.

The hotel was beautiful, with tall ceilings, marble floors, white walls and candle chandeliers that glowed with dim lighting. People that didn't look like Gothamites milled around the lobby and sitting area, all relaxed and chatting amicably. There were a few that were dancing to club music. There was a noticeable bar in the corner of the room that looked unstaffed but was conspicuous in its size and black coloring.

"Yes, sir." Jazz said. "I assume that you're staying the night? We offer breakfast in the morning, and drinks are free all night!"

Jason was silent for a moment. A person wearing a similar uniform to Jazz, with a dark green vest and dark colored apron, approached them and immediately got to bandaging Jason's wounds.

Once again, Jason did not freak. He felt oddly calm, and in the back of his head, he knew that he was safe here. His gut instinct was to collapse on top of Jazz and take a nap, strangely comforted by her presence.

"... why am I so calm?"

Fuck it. He decided to just voice his question.

Jazz giggled. It was a cute noise. "Why wouldn’t you be? There’s nothing to worry about. We're the same, after all!"

Jason blinked. Then he turned to her as the attendant stepped away with the medical box, Jason feeling all healed up, and he said, "Is a night here free?"

"For you? Yep! Everything is free here."

Jason gave a nod. "Then I'll take a room with a single bed, please. Breakfast is free?"

"Yes, sir."

"Great. The name's Jason Todd."

Jazz smiled, a sparkle in her eyes that made Jason feel all fuzzy with warmth. "Very good, sir. Your room number is 312, on the third floor. Here's your room card." She handed over a plastic card that was procured out of thin air but Jason didn't think about it.

He was mentally exhausted and being in her presence made him feel like he was going to drop and fall asleep on the floor and still wake up refreshed. It was so disconcerting that it was almost not disconcerting.

Jason eventually found the elevator, though not without lingering a little around the area. The vigilante in him was telling him to be careful, even though everything else inside of him couldn't give less of a damn and was telling him to kick back and relax. Jazz, after registering him, had gone to the bar to prepare drinks.

She mixed together alcoholic concoctions amidst a small crowd and the more Jason stared, the more it seemed like the dim light was hiding something. People looked like they were wearing ragged clothes and a lot of them had dark stains. There were quite a large amount of old people as well, along with people with seemingly missing appendages.

The last two details wasn't a bad thing, but the amount of them seemed like a hint to something bigger.

When Jazz made eye contact with Jason, she gave a sweet smile and a little wave, and that was Jason's signal to leave.

He got into an elevator, went to his room, and practically sank into the cloud-like bed before he basically knocked himself out. That night, he had never slept so well.

When he woke up, his body felt rejuvenated and he almost felt peppy. It was as if his previous irritations were only bad days and he had finally struck on a good day for once.

He washed up, miraculously found his wounds all healed up, and when he went to take a shower, his clothes were found on the sink, all washed and patched up. Even his helmet had been cleaned and fixed, pristine like the day he had first gotten it.

Jason could've been more suspicious.

But to reiterate, he couldn't.

Everything about this place was like a mother's hug. It was comforting. It made him feel safe. He felt like there was nothing to worry about and although a small part of him found this alarming, he really couldn't explain why he decided to trust it.

When he came down the elevator for breakfast, he was astonished.

Last night, the hotel had looked elegant and high class. Now, in the morning, everything looked warm and homey.

The various large rectangle tables had turned into small round tables that were densely packed together. The floor was a cool blue carpet and the walls had turned a shade of cream. The ceiling had shrank, but now flowers and vines grew from it, dropping from the ceiling with bright blossoms. The bar had been replaced with a little coffee area, with a young man behind the counter, currently taking orders.

The people sitting around and eating their breakfasts looked different in morning light. They glowed with faint shades of blue and green.

Jason paused to take in the sight, considering this information before he shook it off and approached the counter.

The man, after noticing him, immediately went to the cash register with a large smile on his face. "Hello!" He said cheerfully.

Jason immediately noted the similarities between him and Jazz. They had the same heart shaped face, the same ethereal beauty to them, the same nose and smile. This man, however, had bright blue eyes and dark black hair that swept over his eyes.

"What are you drugging me with? I'm way too comfortable here." Jason blurted out.

The man paused. And then he burst out laughing. Jason couldn't help the few snickers that fell out of his throat too, but they both quickly calmed down and the man explained softly, "We're not drugging you. You're just comfortable here because it's where you belong. Don't stress too much."

He continued to smile reassuringly. "Call me Danny. I'm the owner. What would you like to order?"

Jason's eyes flicked to the menu and then he said, "A California club croissant and a caramel latte, please."

"Coming right up, big guy!"

Jason moved a little bit away to the side so that other people could order.

He couldn't help but contemplate what was going on, but it was a little hard to think being this close to Danny's presence. The urge to fight against his soothed mind and the urge to just relax were warring, but unfortunately, his latter side was winning.

If Jazz had seemed comforting and like a hug, then Danny was the blanket, fireplace, hot chocolate cup and book on a cool rainy evening. It was like Danny was his missing piece that just sucked out all of the fear, misery, and rage inside of him.

It was almost crazy how Jason didn't want to retaliate against them at all.

"Here you go, Jason." A voice interrupted him and Jason looked up into crystalline eyes before something was pushed into his hands.

Jason looked down at his order and then up again. "Thanks."

Danny smiled. "No problem! You're pretty freaked out, huh?"

Jason shrugged. Then he thought about it and he asked, "Can I leave?"

"Of course you can." Danny said. "Come back anytime. For someone like you, you have the opportunity to come by anytime you want."

Jason nodded wordlessly and then, with his order in hand, he started walking to the door.

For one last time, he turned and met Danny's eyes. Danny smiled cheerfully, his eyes squinted in happiness. He gave a big wave and Jason returned it before he put on his helmet and pushed past the doors into the open air of Gotham's polluted and smoky world.

The rose glasses fell off and the pink sparkles faded away with each blink.

Jason stared dumbfounded at his own state of body and mind, as his siblings and family all screamed into his ear frantically, begging to know where he went and how he was.

Jason could only stare at the gray, listless world around him and wonder if he had imagined everything.

"What the fuck?"

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom x dc #danny fenton #jason todd #jazz fenton #dcxdp #dpxdc #hotel au #dp au #dp x dc au #one shot #spoiler: the hotel is a hotel for the dead >:) #it’s back to school for me :’<

[patscorner]

ARE YOU OKAY?

Summary: Y/n has too much drink at a party

Tw: drinking, vomit, swearing, partying, suggestive jokes, kissing

______________________________

It started with one shot, which turned into two, which turned into three, and then you starting losing count.

You were at your coworkers' birthday party, and after this past week, you thought you deserved a break.

Monday was the start to all of your problems. Your dog threw up blood, and you rushed him to the vet. After waiting in the lobby for 4 hours, hoping that he's okay, the vets told you they couldn't find anything wrong.

So they gave him medicine and sent him back home. By then, you were late to work and was dealt a huge amount of overtime.

The rest of the week wasn't any better. You had got into an agruement with both Matt and your father, and then had to take your dog back to the vet when the medicine didn't work.

So, to say you were stressed would be an understatement.

That's why you went to the party in the first place. You ignored Matt, who told you that you shouldn't drink in your state of mind, and you knew he was right. You just didn't care. You didn't want to feel the stress anymore, and what better way to do that than to get blackout drunk.

So there you were, on your 7th shot of tequila, dancing as you let the alcohol take over. Your hips moved to the music and you danced on the floor shoulder to shoulder to strangers you've never seen before.

"Y/n!" You turned to see your coworker waving you over, and you drunkenly stumbled towards him, pushing past the other bodies on the floor.

"Hey, what's up?" You slurred over the music.

He rolled his eyes. "I called your boyfriend. He's on his way to get you." He yelled over the loud chatter.

You smiled drunkenly. "Yayyyy! Wheeere's he at?" You said, clearly incoherent.

Your coworker sighed. "Jesus, Y/n, how much have you drank?" All you did was shake your head.

"I dunno." You said, stumbling backward a little.

"Woah, woah, okay, how about we sit you down?" Your coworker speaks, dragging you outside and sitting you down on the curb.

"We'll wait here for Matt." He said as he sat next to you. Your eyes were closed, and your body swayed as the refreshing wind blew through your hair.

"Matt's coming?" You asked, not moving an inch. Your coworker chuckled. "Yeah, that's him right there." He pointed out.

Your eyes opened wide, and tears filling them as you saw the van pull up and Matt hop out, keys in hand.

Matt runs over to you and immediately holds your hands. "Love, are you okay? Why are you crying?" He said, voice laced with concern.

All you do is hum as you bring him into a warm embrace. The alcohol stings his nose as he looks at your coworker for help. Her coworker looks at him amusedly.

"She's so drunk, I'm surprised she's able to talk."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Thanks for calling me. How much has she had to drink?" He asked, still clinging onto you.

You pull away before your coworker can say anything. "I- I am not drunk. I've only have had 4 shots. That'sss what the bartender said when I asked." You slurred, blinking slowly.

Matt looked at your coworker. "That was 2 hours ago. She's had double that." He shrugged.

"Jesus fuc- Why didn't you stop her?" Matt said wide-eyed as he put his hand in the small of your back to keep you up, as you swayyed in his arms.

Your coworker shrugged again. "She's grown, I thought she could handle herself." Matt sighed. "She is, and she should." He glanced at you, who was staring at the fire hydrant next to you, entranced.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to let her get plastered." Your coworker apologizes, feeling guilty for not preventing you from getting here.

Matt sighed again. "It's okay, it's not your fault. I should get her back, though. Thanks again for calling me." He said, standing up.

Your coworker nods. "No problem, drive safe." He said before walking inside.

"Come on, my love, let's go." He said, picking you up, holding you steady as you stand.

"Wheeere are we goin'?" You slurred, stumbling on your feet.

"Home."

"But, whyyyyyy?" You whined, reluctantly letting Matt drag you to the car. "We just got here."

He shook his head as he helped you into the car. "It's 4am, sweetheart. You did not just get here." He laughs before closing the door and walking to the other side.

You look at him as he climbs in, buckles up, and backs out. "You okay, baby? Do you need anything?" Matt speaks, glancing at you as he drives, his hand resting on your thigh.

You hum, unable to speak anymore. The alcohol somehow diminished your love for speaking, and even though you were plastered, you couldn't bring yourself to talk.

"Are you with me, baby?" Matt speaks again, rubbing your leg gently.

You look at him, pupils dilated. "'M gonna throw up..." You say softly.

Matt's eyes shoot to yours, watching your face pale. "Wha- okay, okay. Let me pull over, hold on."

Matt swiftly and kind of illegally pulls over onto the shoulder, but it's okay. There was nobody on the road. It's 4am, who would be out?

You fight with the door but eventually stumble onto the grass, falling to your knees as vomit spews out of your mouth.

You feel a hand on your back, and your hair gets pulled out of your face. Matt whispers quiet, comforting words as sobs fall out of your mouth. Not because you're sad or in pain, you're just drunk and overworked.

"Shhh, I know, I know. It's okay." Matt spoke softly as you breathed heavily. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before collapsing unexpectedly into Matt's arms.

"Fuck, baby, are you okay?" Matt said, his voice laced with concern. You nod against his body, ignoring the wet grass on your legs.

Matt rubbed circles onto your back. "Let's go home, love." He whispered. You hum, but don't move.

Matt sighed before lifting you up and carrying you back to the car. You're not sleeping, but you're not awake either. You're just drunk.

Matt puts you back in the car, buckling up as your eyes struggle to stay open. You whine as Matt places a kiss on your cheek, wanting more.

Matt chuckles. "Sorry, love. I want to get us home." He said, closing your door and walking to get in the driver seat.

The rest of the car ride went by smoothly and uninterrupted. You didn't throw up again, and you didn't really speak either.

Matt kept glancing at you nervously the whole time, silently wishing you'd speak. That way, he knew you were okay. For his own sake, he kept his hand on your thigh the whole time.

You open your eyes when you feel the car be put in park. You look around, but your so drunk, you have no idea where you are.

You whine in your seat, wiggling uncomfortably. "Matttttt... Wanna lay down." You slurred out.

Matt sighed as he got you both out of car, holding your waist as he guided you to the door. You stumble over your feet, but Matt's determined to get you inside as quick as possible.

You feel butterflies in your stomach as you become aware of Matt's hand on your waist. You look down at his hand, then at him, then his hand, then back to him again.

"Youuuu want to fuck me, don you?" You say, voice shaking. Matt freezes as you reach the front door.

His eyes widened as he looked at you. "Wha-, no, honey. I don't. I just want to get you to bed." He said, shaking his head aa he unlocked the front door.

"You don't love me?!" You say, louder than you mean too, but right now, you're very emotional. Tears fall down your face as Matt shushes you.

"Shhh! Honey, of course I love you. I just don't think now is the right time for... that. You gotta be quiet. We don't want to wake Nick and Chris." He said, quickly helping you up the stairs.

Speeding up was a mistake as you stumbled up the stairs and leaned on Matt and grip the banister for dear life.

"Oh dear god." Matt muttered as he lifted you up. You were getting frustrated as well, angry that you couldn't even walk by yourself. "Fuck." You whisper as tears fall.

After the fight to get to Matt's room, you finally make it.

Matt sits you on the bed, sighing deeply as your eyes stay closed. "You wanna take off your clothes, baby, or do you not care?" His back is to you, setting his keys on his desk. He doesn't even notice your tears.

You sniffle, wiping your face quickly. "I-i don't care." You say your voice comes out smaller than you intend, making Matt turn around urgently.

"What's the matter, sweetheart? Why are you crying?" He says, crouching down, cupping your face as he wipes your tears.

"I'm just so stressed. My dog is sick, and you're mad at me and my dad hates me, and, and people at work keep getting on my nerves, and I'm so done and and I'm so fucking drunk and I don't even want to be." You ramble out in one breath.

"Hey, hey, breathe. It's okay. I'm not upset with you. I was earlier, but I'm not anymore." Matt says, looking in your eyes. "And your dad doesn't hate you. He was just upset, and I'm certain he's not anymore. As for your dog and work, I can only help by being there for you. You don't have to be drunk to cope, honey." He said, sealing his words with a kiss.

"Thank you, Matt." You say as he pulls you into another kiss.

You kiss him back, but he reluctantly stops it before it goes farther. "You're drunk. Let's get you to sleep, yeah?" He said, patting your thighs.

You nod as you crawl into the bed, pulling the blanket over your shoulders. "I love you, Matt."

"I love you, too." Matt says as he crawled next you, pulling you onto his now shirtless chest.

You knew the hangover was gonna be a bitch in the morning.

______________________________

#nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fanfic

[selineram3421]

*stares into the void*

Dizzy For You

Lovesick Alastor X Reader

Warning⚠

⚠ blood/gore, reader is really into creepy alastor, kisses, consensual biting *cough*, cuddles, fluff ⚠

You were in love with one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell.

The Radio Demon.

At the moment, he was in the process of courting you. Or in what the new generation calls it, dating.

Now you're not that old of a demon but you still use the term courting as it feels more genuine.

The way he spoiled you made you feel like the only demon in Hell. Of course there were limits but like any good relationship, you both communicated.

You knew he wasn't one for physical displays of affection out in public, unless it was holding you close or kisses on the back of your hand.

It didn't bother you one bit.

In fact it made you happier knowing that your affectionate actions were private. Only for the two of you.

You could only see him that way.

As you spent time working on a few orders, making nameplates and engraving names and or numbers on them, you even got an order from Alastor! He had wanted small but fancy door plaques for room numbers. Some in the hotel having been missing or needing touch-ups.

Quickly finishing the last plaque, you packaged them and set out to return to the hotel.

A fun little gift your lover added to your shop was the door in the corner of your back room, it being a portal to one of the hotel back rooms near the lobby.

He didn't like you being so far away after all.

When walking into the lobby, you didn't notice the commotion outside until you heard a familiar laugh.

It was filled with static.

Downright dark and sinister that got a chill to run down your spine.

As if hypnotized, you walked towards the sound and saw sinners being ripped apart, blood and guts covering the ground in front of the hotel. Your eyes widened when seeing the Radio Demon eat a demon whole.

Then he turned to face the door after finishing the carnage.

"Alastor.", you gasped, covering your mouth with your hand.

He was in his tall demon form, smiling and covered in blood. The metallic scent filled the area and you felt slightly dizzy at the smell but also couldn't help being drawn in by the sight.

Seeing you stagger back, Alastor rushed towards you, shrinking slightly to get through the door.

"Darling? Are you alright?", he asked, pulling you into his hold.

You shivered and hid your face in his chest, feeling the blood smear onto your skin. The room feeling a lot stuffier than before with your quick breaths.

"Take me to the room.", you whispered and tugged on his coat. "Please."

Using his shadows, both of you appear in your room and you quickly pull him into a rough kiss.

The deer made a noise of surprise, static buzzing as his grip on you tightened.

Moving away from his lips, you peppered his face with kisses, making sure to kiss under his jaw before making your way towards his neck. Blood now on your lips and hands, heart racing at the taste.

"Fuck.", you said shakily, looking up at the deer and finding his cheeks dusted bright red. "Alastor."

His ears perked up at his name and he held you tightly, hand rubbing up and down your lower back. "Yes my dearest heart?", he responded, leaning forward to place a peck on your forehead.

"Please bite me."

You shivered again with a blush as he leaned down with a chuckle, his sclera pitch black with a lustre from his glowing irises.

"￦¡+h pl€@sμre~"

Tilting your head to the side, you let him sink his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder. A small noise escaped from your lips as you clung onto his coat, whimpering when he pulled back and blood starting to run down your neck.

"Quel goût raffiné.", he kissed the bite mark. (What a refined taste.)

He gave you a gentle smile as he caressed your cheek and you leaned into his touch.

"Let's get cleaned up.", he said softly, guiding you to the bathroom.

After a refreshing bath, you both got dressed into nightwear and got ready for bed. Alastor being extra sweet and helping you get comfortable next to him under the covers.

Feeling absolutely content, you smiled and cuddled up against him.

"I'm sorry for pouncing on you."

"Nonsense.", he brushed it off as he glided his hand down your thigh, pulling it to rest your leg between his. "I enjoy your affection."

"Hmm..", you felt your eyelids droop.

"Sleep.", the deer demon whispered, kissing the top of your head. "I'll still be here in the morning."

You let out another hum before submitting to a pleasant slumber.

*sees radio dials in the darkness* Oh shit.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

#x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #gn reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #the radio demon #fanfic #hazbin hotel radio demon #radio demon #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #kisses and cuddles #forehead kisses #blood and gore #tw blood #cw blood #guts tehe #biting #nom nom #fluff #consensual biting #lovesick alastor

[mariacallous]

Oregon governor Tina Kotek yesterday signed the state's Right to Repair Act, which will push manufacturers to provide more repair options for their products than any other state so far.

The law, like those passed in New York, California, and Minnesota, will require many manufacturers to provide the same parts, tools, and documentation to individuals and repair shops that they provide to their own repair teams.

But Oregon's bill goes further, preventing companies from implementing schemes that require parts to be verified through encrypted software checks before they will function, known as parts pairing or serialization. Oregon’s bill, SB 1596, is the first in the nation to target that practice. Oregon state senator Janeen Sollman and representative Courtney Neron, both Democrats, sponsored and pushed the bill in the state senate and legislature.

“By eliminating manufacturer restrictions, the Right to Repair will make it easier for Oregonians to keep their personal electronics running,” said Charlie Fisher, director of Oregon's chapter of the Public Interest Research Group, in a statement. “That will conserve precious natural resources and prevent waste. It’s a refreshing alternative to a ‘throwaway’ system that treats everything as disposable.”

Oregon's law isn't stronger in every regard. For one, there is no set number of years for a manufacturer to support a device with repair support. Parts pairing is prohibited only on devices sold in 2025 and later. And there are carve-outs for certain kinds of electronics and devices, including video game consoles, medical devices, HVAC systems, motor vehicles, and—as with other states—“electric toothbrushes.”

Apple opposed the Oregon repair bill for its parts-pairing ban. John Perry, a senior manager for secure design at Apple, testified at a February hearing in Oregon that the pairing restriction would “undermine the security, safety, and privacy of Oregonians by forcing device manufacturers to allow the use of parts of unknown origin in consumer devices.”

Apple surprised many observers with its support for California's repair bill in 2023, though it did so after pressing for repair providers to mention when they use “non-genuine or used” components and to bar repair providers from disabling security features.

According to Consumer Reports, which lobbied and testified in support of Oregon's bill, the repair laws passed in four states now cover nearly 70 million people.

[andy-clutterbuck]

6x05 | Now

#me: this scene is darker than my sins....BUT HIS MESSY HAIRRRR #Rick Grimes #* #rg #S6 #one day your lips will not make me want to bust through a wall like the koolaid man #but today is not that day #even his adams apple is nice i hate myself #'Even His *Blank* Are Nice I Hate Myself' the title of my TED talk #refreshments are in the lobby #your bone structure my dude #that strong jaw i s2g #that bottom lip is illegal #even in the apocalypse #just want to thread my fingers in there..... #also his n e c k

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part Nine: The Turmoil

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

After leaving the lobby, Cillian felt conflicted about how to handle his situation. On one hand, he wanted to preserve his marriage after all he had invested in it, but on the other hand, he found himself increasingly drawn to you.

As he approached the elevator, he wondered if he had the strength to confront his feelings directly. He knew deep down that his relationship with you was not sustainable, especially because of the potential fallout it could have on his family, not only with his wife but also his son. In addition, he realized that there would not be a future with you. This affair was not going to go anywhere other than being exactly that, an affair.

Deep down inside, Cillian knew that logical approach would be to end his fling with you right now and to sever ties completely and salvage what fragments remained of his marriage. But how could he do that when he was so infatuated with you? He had never felt this kind of excitement and attraction towards anyone before.

He desperately wished he could rip the ticking clock out of the air and halt reality altogether. If only he could freeze time in that moment, then maybe he wouldn't hurt anyone. However, the cruel hand of fate forced him to make difficult decisions.

His conscience weighed heavy on his shoulders as he trudged toward the door of his room, mentally preparing himself for the conversation ahead, asking you to leave and end this doomed affair.

"Why am I even entertaining these thoughts?" he pondered aloud, stopping halfway down the hallway, his palms sweating profusely.

"I know that it's wrong," he reasoned, halting outside room 309.  "I shouldn't be doing this," he whispered to himself, the sound echoing eerily in the deserted hallway. His heart pounded erratically in his chest, his palms sweaty and clammy.

Cillian closed his eyes momentarily, collecting his thoughts before inserting the key-card into the door to his room and opening it slowly and, as soon as he stepped inside, he laid his eyes on your naked form.

You lay on the bed, propped up on your elbows, waiting for him impatiently.

"Hello stranger," you called out, watching him stand motionless in the doorway for several seconds. "That took a while longer than I had expected," you smirked playfully and the sight of you caught his breath away. He stood frozen in place, he couldn't help but admire your perfect nakedness.

"Hey," he finally managed to utter, attempting to break the spellbinding silence. "How was your bath?" he then asked politely, stepping tentatively into the room.

"It was refreshing," you replied casually. "But it would have been much better if you had kept me company," you then winked before crawling towards the edge of the bed seductively. 

"Y/N, I...," he began to say, trying to talk to you but, as soon a he approached the bed, he was silenced by your lips.

"Shhh," you hushed seductively, capturing his lips with yours.

The sudden heat of your body overwhelmed him, and he struggled to maintain his composure. He felt the pull of temptation stronger than ever before wanting to tear off his pants and join you under the sheets.

"Fuck," he groaned against your lips, your sweet scent filling his nostrils, making him weak in the knees as you started to fumble with his belt.

"No, wait," he gasped, catching you by the wrists. "We can't," he protested weakly, the battle raging within him. You arched an eyebrow at him, watching the internal struggle playing out on his face.

"What's wrong?" you prodded softly, tilting your head to the side. "I should not be doing this," he whispered, tears pooling in his eyes. "I have to talk to you," he confessed, his voice thick with emotion.

"You are having second thoughts about this again, aren't you?" you observed shrewdly, your voice barely audible. 

"Maybe," he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. "I just don't know what to do anymore," he confessed, the turmoil evident in his voice, causing you to swallow harshly and pull away.

Reaching for the sheets to cover yourself you set down with a sigh.

"You feel guilty about sleeping with me, because you want to be loyal to your wife," you said softly, your voice cracking slightly. 

"Actually," Cillian corrected you, pausing for a moment. "No, I do not feel guilty about sleeping with you because of my wife, which makes this so fucking confusing," he sighed, raking his hands through his hair.

"My marriage is broken. It has been broken for a long time and, yet, somehow I just can't justify this affair, mainly because of the damage it might cause down the track," he confessed, his voice quivering. "I know that it's morally wrong to be with you and I know that I need to end this," he explained, looking at you imploringly. "But goddamnit Y/N, I just can't," he growled, his voice breaking.

"Because spending time with me make you feel good?" you asked Cillian, watching him carefully. Your voice was quiet yet determined, challenging him to speak honestly.

"Yes, being with you feels so fucking good," Cillian replied, the words escaping his lips with difficulty. "I never expected to find this kind of connection with someone, but I also know that, given where I am in my life right now, this affair won't go anywhere. It is destined to come to an end eventually, so why fucking risk my marriage for it?" he confessed, his gaze locked on yours.

The atmosphere between you intensified, the tension palpable. You reached out to brush a stray strand of hair behind his ear, admiring the beauty of his features. His skin was smooth yet rugged, betraying the battles he had fought in both life and love.

"Why risk your already broken marriage?" you asked softly, reaching out to touch Cillian's cheek. "I don't know Cillian, but the way I see it is that you don't have as much to lose as you think and whether this affair goes anywhere or not does not really matter," you trembled beneath your fingertips, his pulse pounding furiously in his veins.

"And why doesn't it matter?" Cillian asked, confused as your fingers began trailing along his jawline.

"I mean, every second with you makes me feel good Y/N, but we won't have a future together. I will never be able to commit to you," Cillian responded, his voice cracking slightly. 

"And I don't expect you to Cillian," you responded softly, your voice trembling slightly. "I don't expect you to commit to me and I don't expect you to make me any promises for the future," you implored him, stroking his cheek softly. "Right now, with you, I am simply living in the moment and, perhaps, if you are unhappy in your marriage, you should do the same to find out what it is that you really want," you offered him a soft smile as you watched his face contort in confusion.

"Let me ask you something," you then went on to say. "Do you think your marriage can be saved or are you just prolonging the inevitable until Max takes enough responsibility to look after himself?" you asked Cillian gently, touching his hand tenderly.

"We both know it is the latter," Cillian sighed heavily, caressing your fingers lovingly. "I feel like I owe him to try and work things out with his mother. We have been married for so long, and there's history there," Cillian murmured, his grip tightening around your hand. 

"Max is an adult," you reminded him gently, noticing the strain in his voice. "And I think that you have a right to focus on yourself and your own happiness as well," you encouraged him, squeezing his hand lovingly. "But, if you do still love your wife then I really don't want to stand in between you," you added truthfully.

"I don't," Cillian responded, tearing up slightly. "And I can't believe I am actually saying this, but I have fallen out of love with her a long time ago," he admitted, the pain evident in his voice. "Danielle and I were young and naïve when we got married," he sighed, tracing the lines on your palm with his thumb. "But I was hoping that, with time, things would change. That we would become closer. And it took me many years to accept that we never will," he confessed, his voice strained.

"So what do you want to do now?" you asked curiously, watching him intently. "I can leave if you like," you told him. "No hard feelings," you added, the words spilling out of your mouth in a rush. You didn't want to force anything, nor did you want him to feel pressured to choose between you and his wife. But as the words left your mouth, you could hear the desperate undertone to your voice.

"Don't leave," Cillian whispered hoarsely, his voice sounding more defeated than you had ever heard it before. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you tightly and held you close to his chest.

You listened to his heartbeat thrumming against your chest, your bodies melding together seamlessly.

"You are right,” Cillian murmured softly, his voice strained with emotion. "I deserve to be happy too sometimes," he sighed, kissing your forehead tenderly without telling you about all the bad he had experienced Max's mother, including the threats against his career and past jealousy over nothing.

"Then tell me, how can I possibly make you happy?" you teased him gently, turning your face to the side, hiding your face in his shirt.

"Well, I might have some ideas," Cillian smiled before pushing your back onto the mattress gently but firmly. He leaned down and kissed the top of your nose affectionately. "But remember, I can't promise anything," he whispered, brushing a lock of hair away from your face.

"I don't expect any promises," you responded softly, locking your arms around his neck, pulling him closer towards you. "I just want to enjoy the moments we have together," you whispered sincerely, nibbling on his earlobe gently.

"Me too," Cillian agreed, his voice husky and thick with desire.

He lowered his lips to yours, kissing you passionately, his tongue exploring your mouth hungrily. You melted into his arms, surrendering to the intoxicating sensations coursing through your veins.

"Cillian," you moaned quietly, arching into his touch as he explored your body eagerly. He teased your nipples with his thumbs, sending jolts of pleasure shooting through your core. You writhed beneath him, your breathing growing shallow and ragged.

"Just relax," Cillian whispered softly, his warm breath fanning across your neck.

"I need you to take off your clothes," you murmured shyly, biting your lip seductively. You were eager to explore his body again, and the anticipation was killing you.

Cillian complied willingly, stripping down completely before climbing back on top of you.

His body was lean and muscular, adorned with a light dusting of freckles. As he pressed his weight down onto you, you could feel his erection straining against his boxers. You let out a low moan, inviting him to continue.

"Are you still sure about this?" Cillian asked, his voice rough and strained.

"Yes," you replied, reaching up to kiss him passionately. "I want you, Cillian."

He grinned wickedly, yanking off his underwear in one swift movement. His cock sprang free, standing tall and proud.

You licked your lips, mesmerized by the sight of him. You wanted to taste him, to feel him inside you. You moved your hands, tracing the outline of his erection.

"I want you so badly," you moaned, your voice thick with lust. "Please, Cillian, fuck me."

He looked down at you, his eyes dark and intense. "Fuck Y/N, why do you have to be so damn beautiful?" he whispered, his voice husky and full of longing. His eyes roamed over your exposed flesh, taking in every curve and contour of your body. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, his arousal practically tangible in the air.

"Because, clearly, I'm your type," you teased, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. He groaned softly, pressing his lips firmly against yours. His kiss was hungry and insistent, almost desperate. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you.

His kisses were passionate and urgent, fuelled by raw desire. As he pushed you further onto the bed, he paused, looking into your eyes as if seeking permission. You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. 

"I want you to fuck me, Cillian," you repeated, your voice quivering with desire while he groaned loudly, his cock twitching beneath your fingers. You could feel his arousal surging through the air, a potent cocktail of pure lust and desire.

His response was immediate, his hips bucking into yours as he pressed his cock against your clit. The sensation was overwhelming, a wave of raw hunger washing over you. 

"I need you inside of me," you whimpered, your voice shaking with desperation and he immediately complied with your request.

He positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you with the tip of his cock. You moaned loudly, arching your back off the sheet.

Suddenly, he thrust into you, filling you completely. He buried his face in your neck, groaning loudly.

You could feel his heart pounding wildly against your chest, his breath hot and damp against your skin. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding you tightly as he pumped into you relentlessly.

"Oh God, yes!" you cried out, your voice hoarse and strained. The pleasure was almost unbearable, a tidal wave of ecstasy crashing over you. He responded, his movements becoming faster and harder.

You continued this for about an hour, drawing out the pleasure you received from each other's body until you couldn't take it anymore. 

The tension in your muscles increased tenfold, and you arched your back, trying to alleviate the mounting pressure. Cillian, sensing your impending release, quickened his pace, burying himself deeper inside you with each thrust.

"Cillian, fuck," you whimpered, your voice cracking. "Oh my fucking god, yes!" you screamed, the word echoing through the hotel room. Cillian's strong grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh with ferocious intensity. You could feel the familiar warmth building inside you, the storm brewing in the distance, threatening to engulf you both.

"I need—" you gasped, struggling to catch your breath.

"I know, baby," Cillian grunted, his breath hot and damp against your neck.

"I'm close," he rasped, his thrusts becoming wilder and more frantic. You could feel the pressure building inside you, the storm gathering in the distance. "Just hold on," he murmured, his voice strained and desperate. "I'm almost there," he groaned, his cock twitching beneath your fingers.

"Fuck," he gasped, his cock pulsing inside you as you found your release together, orgasming in sync with one another. 

The feeling was incredible, a powerful surge of pleasure that washed over you like a tidal wave.

"God, yes," you moaned, your voice hoarse and strained. "That was amazing," you breathed, the afterglow of climax lingering between the two of you.

"Yeah, it was," Cillian agreed, his voice rough and thick with satisfaction as he collapsed on top of you.  "Definitely worth the risk," he chuckled, planting a series of gentle kisses on your shoulder just as your phone started to ring.

Glancing at your mobile, which was sitting on the nightstand, you saw that it was Max calling.

"Shit," you murmured as Cillian pulled out of you, leaving you achingly empty. "It's Max. I forgot to write his referral the other day," you explained nervously, quickly picking up the phone and accepting the call while Cillian shifted on the bed uncomfortably.

"Max, hey," you stammered nervously, quickly glancing at Cillian before averting your gaze, your cheeks burning red with embarrassment.

"Hi Y/N, how are you?" Max asked cheerfully on the other line. 

"Yeah, I am fine," you answered hesitantly, avoiding eye contact with Cillian. "And I am really sorry, I should have prepared the referral and transfer form for you when you left the hospital. I totally," you began to apologize. "It totally slipped my mind," you apologized again while you could feel Cillian tensing up beside you.

"It's okay, Y/N," Max reassured you kindly. "I understand, shit happens," he laughed, causing your shoulders to drop slightly. "And I don't need the referral anyway. I won't be continuing treatment in Dublin. I will be staying here until next week for Ma's sake, but I can't wait to get out of the fucking house once Dad gets back," Max exclaimed, causing you to pause mid-sentence.

"Uhm, okay," you muttered, staring blankly at the wall opposite of you while Cillian squirmed uncomfortably on the bed beside you. 

"Yeah, Dad is being a dick you know. He could just fucking pay for the repairs on my car and get me a lawyer. He can fucking afford it, but no, he won't help me," Max vented, causing you to gasp.

"You're joking, right?" you questioned incredulously, staring at the wall in disbelief. Cillian shot you a pleading glance, silently begging you to wrap up the conversation. 

"Nah, I'm not joking," Max sighed heavily. "He just gave me a lecture about how I need to learn to manage my own finances and how irresponsible I am. What bullshit is that?" Max scoffed.

"No Max, I meant that," you began, before pausing briefly and sighing. "I mean, you don't actually expect someone else to cover your ass after what happened, right?" you clarified, the tension in the air thickening. 

"He is my dad, so he is obliged to help me," Max responded quickly. "Despite, mum thinks he should," Max argued stubbornly. 

"Well, I don't agree, but this between you and your dad," you interjected, knowing that Cillian was hearing at least half of what was being said. "Now listen, I have to go now. I've got stuff to do," you hurriedly ended the conversation, cutting Max off abruptly.

"Yeah, of course Y/N. You are a busy med student after all," Max chuckled before telling you quickly why he was calling you in the first place. "But the reason I was calling you was that I thought that, just maybe, you would like to go out, catch a movie and some dinner next week, just so that I can thank you properly for all your help at the hospital and all," Max stammered before continuing on without allowing you to answer. "Any movie is fine. You choose. Just not Oppenheimer. I can't possibly watch my dad take off his clothes and make out with Florence Pugh who, I may add, is way too young and pretty for him. That's just next level gross," Max told you, chuckling, his tone sarcastic and disgusted.

"Max, listen," you interrupted him, panic setting in. "We talked about this and I think that, what you are suggesting, is a terrible idea, alright?" you insisted, the nervousness creeping into your voice despite how confident you attempted to sound. "Now, I really have to go. You take care, okay?" you hurriedly finished before hanging up the phone.

As soon as you disconnected the call, you jumped off the bed, walking briskly to the bathroom.

"Y/N," Cillian called out, his voice thick with concern. "Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice laced with worry. "Is Max okay?" he wanted to know.

"Yeah," you assured him, running the water in the sink as you splashed cold water on your face. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, your cheeks flushed a deep pink. 

"I am just such a horrible fucking person," you muttered under your breath, wiping the water from your face with a towel. "God dammit," you scolded yourself, pacing nervously in front of the sink.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Cillian called out again, his voice softer this time. "Talk to me," he pleaded, his voice thick with concern.

Sighing, you turned off the faucet and opened the door, stepping out into the bedroom. "No, I am not okay," you admitted, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"Yes, just needed to freshen up after the awkward phone call," you lied, not wanting to tell Cillian that his son so seemingly was not over you yet in fear of loosing him.

"What did Max want?" Cillian asked cautiously, watching you closely.

You hesitated a moment before answering, weighing your options. Finally, you decided to tell him at least part of the truth.

"Nothing much," you mumbled, shifting your gaze to the floor. "He just called to ask if I wanted to catch a movie with him next week," you revealed softly, feeling Cillian stiffen beside you.

"What did you say?" he asked, his voice cold and distant.

"I told him that I didn't think it was a good idea," you replied, meeting Cillian's gaze.

"Y/N, I am not sure what we are doing here," Cillian said, torn between his feelings for you and loyalty towards his son. "Maybe we should just stop," he suggested, his voice thick with regret and, immediately, your heart sank at his words.

To be continued...

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[abadbitchblogs]

SOS

Part 2

Pairing: Jey Uso x OC x Damian Priest

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3.5k

a/n: Thank you all so much for all the love! I couldn't have asked for a better reception of my art. You all inspired this next part! Likes, comments, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! Mwah!

-credit to @cafekitsune for the divider

If it weren't for the 15 text messages from Joshua and the Instagram spam from Damian, she could swear that last night was a dream. One minute she was partying with her best friend and the next she was trying not to catch a case. Then she found solace in an unlikely companion. Her head was honestly still spinning from trying to process everything that happened less than 12 hours ago. Work was definitely going to be- something today, that much was certain. After she opted to just block Josh, she smirked at her notifications being flooded by thearcherofinfamy. He was obviously trying to get her attention since he didn't have her number. The drive to the arena would take less than an hour if traffic was nice to her so she had time to kill before the superstars were set to arrive. Kendall decided to play with the dark priest and thought to lure him out via DM.

[kenthedoll_] Meet me in an hour

[archerofinfamy] That didnt sound like a question

[kenthedoll_] Bc it wasnt, yk you wanna

[archerofinfamy] Alright I’m in

[kenthedoll_] I was counting on it. Meet me at my room

[archerofinfamy] Yes ma’am 

Well it was already 10 AM so going to the gym was out of the question which meant today would be a day of indulgence. Finally rolling out of the bed for the morning, Kendall danced through her daily routine with Bongos  blasting on her portable speaker. Damian felt so new- exciting! There was something just effortless and easy about being around him that caught her attention. Ken googled brunch spots on the beach so they had a chance to take in the scenery before they went home after the show. The weather called for a little white tee and shorts combo but she kept it cute pairing it with some comfortable loafers. Dressing like an Instagram baddie 24/7 was too much work for her. When she wasn't on screen or out on the town, she was more of a comfortable girly. In the few moments left before Damian was supposed to show up, she made sure her stuff was packed for the show then her flight home in the morning. You had to stay ready even if you weren't scheduled for the show in case any last minute changes occurred.

Right on cue at 11:15 three knocks rapped against her door to which she skipped over to snatch it open. “Fancy meeting you here.” Her tone was playful as she smiled at his classic bad boy appearance. “Good morning to you too, cariña.” The corner of his lips quirked up in a subtle smile that she found cute. Despite his dark wardrobe, his presence alone filled the air with warmth. The kind that kept the house smelling like chocolate chip cookies hours after they'd been baked. “I hope you like french toast and mimosas because we have reservations.” She didn't wait for a response as she took his hand leading him to the elevator after making sure her door locked behind them. “I don't care what we eat when my view looks like this.” A snort shot through the hallway at his cheesy line but she found his doting to be refreshing.  “Do you use that line often?” Kendall mused while leaning against the wall observing his mannerisms to familiarize herself with him. “My first time. Did it land?”

All she could do was put her head down to hide her amusement not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he could fluster her so easily. The elevator dinged, signaling that they had reached the lobby and she ushered him to the back entrance of the hotel to allow them to walk on the boardwalk. “I hope I’m not keeping you from any leadership duties. I know you run a tight ship.” Damian thought Kendall was so different from the other women on the roster. No one ever really said what they were actually thinking but she did. She was inquisitive, direct, and original. “If you're wondering if I told them that I would be with you, I didn't. I wasn't sure if this was a secret rendezvous or not.” Ken laughed at his uncertainty as they walked side by side to the restaurant. “Think of this as a qualifier for you getting that number you asked for. I wanna know if you are as interesting as I think you are.” “Guess I better show you what you're missing.”

The confidence in Damian’s statement made her pulse quicken, her brown skin prickling with goosebumps. When the pair arrived at the restaurant, he made it his business to open the door for her and pull her chair out once they were seated. As they sat across from each other, her counterpart scanned the menu making small talk about what they would order but she was fixated on him. Kendall snapped out of the trance when he put his  menu down to see why she wasn't responding to him. A smile tugged on his lips whilst he leaned forward on his forearms, bathing her in the attention she was giving him. “I would ask if you see something you like but if you said yes, I'd have to do something about it and we’re in public.” Kendall mimicked his actions with a grin playing on her lips. “Well you know I love to perform.” The silence that settled over the table fueled the intense stare down between the two; the air crackling with desire.

Damian carefully contemplated what he was going to say next. Should he tell her that he wanted to eat her on that very table or should he change the subject? Before he could decide, the waiter came over to take their orders breaking their fierce eye contact. Glancing down at her menu briefly, she decided to make the most out of her cheat day. French toast, scrambled eggs, bacon and home fries while her counterpart opted for something high in protein like steak and eggs. The tension was still palpable after the waiter left with Damian shifting to lean back in his chair with his eyes locked onto hers. “How come you don't call me Luis like everyone else?” Taking a sip of her orange juice then mirroring his posture, Ken gave him a small smile. “Because I’m not like everybody else if you haven't noticed.” 

Once their meals arrived, they ate in comfortable silence stealing little glances at one another between bites. In true woman fashion she longed for some of his food even though her own was good. He noticed her eyes flickering back and forth to his plate so he wordlessly sliced a piece of his steak and held the fork out to her. Instead of pinching the meat off with her manicured fingertips, she rose up slightly to lean across the table and wrap her lips around his fork.  All the air in his lungs evaporated as she let out a hum of satisfaction while looking him dead in the eyes through her lashes. If he didn't drink the complimentary ice water, his boiling blood was going to start traveling south. “Is it good?” At that point he didn't even know if he was referring to the food or not. “The best.” Her tone was definite. They were indeed not talking about food.                                                      

Food was finished and the check was placed on the table. Damian looked at her, she looked at Damian then they both looked down at the bill. Snatching the envelope off the table at the speed of light, he waved it at her in triumph. “Gotta be quicker than that, princess.” Damian placed his card in the pocket making sure he held on to it as they got up to leave. “I asked you out so I should be the one paying.” Kendall argued, crossing her arms over her chest to look more intimidating but it just made him laugh at her bratty nature. “Ah so you admit this was a date.” His chin raised in victory, his back rested against the hostess counter while they ran his card. “Maybe.” She shrugged heading for the exit once the staff returned his card. He chased after her, catching up to walk beside her back down the boardwalk to their hotel making sure was on the other side of oncoming foot traffic. “You’re a stubborn one aren’t you?” Though it was posed as a question, she knew it was rhetorical and he was teasing her. “Well I am a Taurus.” It seemed like the most obvious thing in the world to her but he wasn't really into the whole zodiac sign thing. 

The whole walk back consisted of the two bumping into each other like they were on a different planet with no gravity. Even while they waited for the elevator, he found his eyes glued to her smaller frame until they moved to board. Both of their minds seemed to be so preoccupied that when the ding alerted them that they had arrived on her floor, it startled them a little. “After you,” In a sweeping motion, he allowed her to exit first as he watched the way her jean shorts seemed to hug her ass the way he wanted to. When they reached her door, they felt a sense of deja-vu all over again. “Well that was…” She struggled to find a word that could describe the date they just had. “Exhilarating.” Damian breathed out in agreement. He was nearly pressing her against the door as he peered down at her in adoration, “I think we should do it again.” Ken wordlessly held her hand out for his phone. Damian took the hint, pulling his phone from his pocket and gently placing it in her palm.  She saved her number in his phone under ‘Princess’ before handing it back to him. How fitting.

His body was tingling with the need to grab her and kiss those lips that always managed to stay glossy all the time. But they had to get ready to head to the arena soon; as much as he wanted to be the reason she was late, he didn't want her to get in trouble. “Do you want to ride with us there?” He offered half because he wanted to make sure she could get there okay and half because he wanted to spend more time with her. “Nah, I have a rental and I'm not fighting five people for the AUX.” “Alright then I’ll see you there.” His soft tone was accompanied with a curt nod and he knew he was supposed to walk away but his feet just wouldn't move. “See you later, Luis.” She laughed, gently pushing on his chest to give him some momentum to make it back to the elevator. He walked backward toward the elevator never taking his eyes off of her before she gave him a little wave before disappearing inside her room to get ready. 

Ken sat perched on a crate in an empty hallway backstage as she cackled on facetime with Trin who wanted to know what was going on with her and Luis. “Mmm, who you looking cute for Miss Ma'am?” Her friend instigated causing her jaw to drop to drop at the implication. “Um, not too much. I always look good.” Rolling her eyes, she couldn't help the laugh that escaped when Trinity replied with a deadpan. “Yeah but when you're not scheduled for any screen time, you go for cute and comfortable. You got your titties sitting, legs all out and everything.” She lifted her phone up, angling it down to fit her whole body in the frame. “And is!” The two of them were cutting up so much in the secluded area that she didn't hear footsteps approaching until she felt a strong presence beside her. 

Her smile slid right off her face when she looked over to see Joshua. “I gotta go, sis. I’ll text you.” Just as Trin was about to ask her who had her moving like that, she hung up on her knowing that was probably gon get her cursed out later. “Joshua.” She hoped her flat tone would deter him from saying whatever he was going to say and ruining her mood. “Hey, can we talk for a minute?” Slowly scooting off of the crate, the girl held her hand up in dismissal. “Like I said before, we don't have anything to talk about. I’m good.” His gaze used to make her feel invincible but now she found herself trying to tug her skirt down in discomfort. “Please. You don't even have to say anything. Just listen. I wanna apologize.” In her mind she was debating on whether or not she could listen to his explanation. She really did want to put the shit behind her so she could fully let go- let him go, but now that he was in front of her, she knew she wasn't ready yet.

“I just can't do this right now, Joshua.” Kendall moved to walk past him only to be stopped by him grabbing ahold of her hand. “Wait-” “Stop doing that shit!” Snatching her hand from his grasp she quickly composed herself not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to them. “Stop smothering me. You can’t go from ignoring me for years to popping up on me and texting me fifty fuckin times. I’m not your bitch. Never was. I don’t owe you a damn thing. IF I decide to listen to whatever excuses you have, it’ll be on my time- not yours.” She walked away to take a breather when she turned the corner and smacked right into someone while she was lost in her thoughts. “My bad. I wasn't paying attention.” However when she looked up, she locked eyes with Señor MITB. “We have got to stop meeting like this, princess.” His stomach buzzed upon seeing her but when he noticed her agitated state his brows furrowed in concern. “You okay? What's wrong?” Shrugging the previous spat off, Ken instantly brightened up at his concern for her well being. “Fancy meeting you here.” Her teasing tone sent them into their own little bubble as they stood there making googly eyes at each other. 

Before Luis could respond, Josh rounded the corner she just came from and almost tripped over his own feet stopping to watch their interaction. Luis gave him a friendly head nod with his signature half smile when he realized they had an audience. “Wassup, uce.” Kendall swore she was so annoyed that a visible irk mark actually appeared on her forehead. “What's up, bro.” Jey’s cold demeanor confused him but he chose not to question it. Instead his eyes drank in her figure before lifting to connect to hers again. “You look fucking amazing.” “I try.” She grinned recognizing that familiar glint in his eyes. “I was actually looking for you because I just had an interesting meeting with creative.” “Oh yeah?” She arched her perfectly plucked eyebrow in intrigue. “Turns out they think Damian Priest would be more susceptible to leave Judgement Day because of a woman.” Now that was the last thing she expected him to say.  “Looks like Carsyn and Damian Priest are going to be entwined soon.” “I look forward to it.” 

A stagehand interrupted their heated exchange to tell Damian that his match was on in ten minutes. “Good luck out there, champ.” Luis patted his championship with one hand then raised his briefcase with the other. “I don’t need luck, but I think a kiss would give me a little motivation.” Her brows shot to her hairline being surprised by his boldness before patting his chest. “Win and I’ll think about it.” She smirked then turned on her heel to head to catering. “And don’t look at my ass.” Ken called behind her even though she knew he was most definitely watching her walk away. Luis shook his head in disbelief before going in the opposite direction to meet Finn by the gorilla. 

Kendall watched tag team champs defend their titles against DIY on the monitor in catering. All the close calls had her abandoning the food on her plate because she was too anxious to eat. Winning matches was always the goal but being safe as entertainers and athletes was top priority. Damian could hold his own but they were doing a great job selling the match because those kicks had her wincing for him. The match finally ended with The Judgment Day retaining the Undisputed Tag Team championships. Smiling proudly to herself, she continued to push her food around her plate, having lost her appetite when her phone buzzed with a text message from ‘Papi Chulo’. 

[Papi Chulo] Now back to that kiss

[Princess] I said I would think about it

[Papi Chulo] Don’t make me take it

[Princess] Is that a threat or a promise

[Papi Chulo] It's a warning

A tingle shot up her spine in anticipation. Tossing her food in the garbage, Ken left catering intent on furthering their game of chicken. 

[Princess] Catch me if you can

She was making quick work of trying to find a place to hide while superstars and staff looked on in confusion at her speedy movements. Rounding a random corner, she threw herself into the first storage closet she saw. They never took particularly long showers at arenas so she knew he'd be hot on her trail any second. Placing her hand on her chest to calm the pounding of her heart, she sucked in a breath hearing movement outside the door. Waiting with bated breath for something to happen, she slowly exhaled when the feet in front of the door continued on down the hallway. Kendall went to check her phone for any messages from him when the door burst open making her squeal and drop her phone. There he stood with a wolfish grin plastered on his face as he closed the door behind him. “I found you, little lamb.”

Every step she took backward, he stalked forward with his long legs crossing the small space in mere seconds. “That was fast.” Her adrenaline spiked again as her back hit the wall allowing his tall frame to cage her in. “What can I say? I had business to take care of.” His deep voice filled the air like smoke making her feel lightheaded as she laid her hands on his chest to ground herself. “And what business is that?” He wrapped a strong forearm around her waist pressing their bodies flush together and cradled the back of her neck with his other hand. “You.” Any words on her tongue died when he connected their lips in a passionate kiss. It felt like all the air left her body then came rushing back. Draping her arms over his neck, she leaned up on her tiptoes to deepen the lip lock. Ken let out a quiet moan feeling like she was slipping from reality as he held her. Hearing her sounds of approval urged him to lower his hand to grab a handful of her ass.

Willing herself to pull back from the kiss, Luis chased her lips coaxing a giggle out of her. “You’re intoxicating, muneca.” His voice was low but his stare was burning right through her. “I’ve been told I have that effect on people.” He laughed, moving to snake his arms around her small waist maintaining their closeness. “Careful. That effect gon have your ankles making friends with your ears.” The fire between them was spiraling- warping into something insatiable. “Is that a threat or a promise?” Kendall challenged only to receive a harsh squeeze to her ass. “Definitely a promise.” Tugging her hand to lead them out of the closet, he poked his head out of the door to make sure the coast was clear. “Let’s get outta here. I’ll drive.”

kenthedoll_

kenthedoll_  In my soft girl era 

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[builtbybrokenbells]

It’s Never Over

A blowout resulting in an untimely breakup between y/n and her long term boyfriend leaves both of them broken. A year and a half later, after nothing but radio silence and unrequited love, they find themselves face to face once more. Both grown up, living completely different lives, but still hurting over mistakes their younger selves made, and still hopelessly head over heels for each other. They find themselves caught up in the struggle of choice; to allow history to repeat itself, or let the memory of their past fade away into nothing.

listen while reading: lover, you should’ve come over - Jeff Buckley

Pairing: josh kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 17.7k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, sweet soft makeup sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering, praise, pet names, body worshiping ig if you squint, breakups/breakup talk, angst (with a happy ending 😁), mentions of drugs, drinking, sad josh (needs a warning of its own), crying, some yelling, sweetness, tooth rotting fluff, sorry if I miss any!!!

so somebody requested some josh angst and i just couldn’t help myself 🤭 a very happy ending, pinky promise. you guys know me well enough to know I’m a slut for happy endings. also sorry it turned out so long, i HAVE to stop it with the literal novels. i just got super attached to the characters and got carried away (what else is new). i also wrote this mostly in one sitting so I had to trim a lot and add things here and there, but i hope this is satisfactory!! also not fantastically edited, cause I’m super lazy 🫣 as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

~

The silk of your dress clung to your skin, the slit in the leg just promiscuous enough to catch eyes, but not enough to be uncomfortably exposed. The deep emerald green was elegant, a fantastic choice on your part. Your hair hung loosely over your shoulders, the scent of your perfume radiating around you. You were dressed to the nines, much like the other women pooling into the lobby of the five-star hotel. Even so, you had never felt more out of place. As you anxiously awaited the progression to the main event, you couldn’t help but check over your shoulders every few minutes. You were hoping to catch sight of any familiar faces before they saw you, in hopes of a head start to hide away. You straightened your hair out and fixed the straps of your dress, trying to pass a few more minutes without focusing on your nervousness.

It was your first time back in Nashville after a year and a half of avoiding it. You’d moved to New York some time ago and hadn’t looked back since. Your hometown was greatly missed, but for no reasons that were obvious. You didn’t miss your family; you shared phone calls and texts, which was perfectly fine for you. They’d always been a bit hard on the head, raving about appearance and sophistication rather than fun and happiness, so the distance wasn’t terribly troublesome. Your siblings were scattered across the world, anyway, so the change in location really had no effect on the relationships you previously had with them. The town itself wasn’t troublesome to leave behind, either. You had gotten your fill of it in your first twenty-some years of life, and it was quite refreshing to get out into the world and see something new.

What you did miss, though, was the boy you left behind. Although, it wasn’t a choice to leave him; he’d made that decision for you, and without a hesitation, too. You never expected him to come with you while you followed your dream. It would be selfish to expect him to leave everything behind to chase you around the world. But, you did hope that there was a part of him that wanted to make it work despite the distance, like you’d done for him countless times. When you told him you had to go, that the move was something you desperately needed, all of the love he ever had for you seemed to disappear. He turned cold and distant, and ended things without a second thought.

“Please, Josh, just listen to me for one minute!” You begged, tears forming in your eyes. His usually joyous face was nothing short of indifferent towards you, now.

“I don’t have anything to talk about with you, y/n.” The words were equal to a stab to the chest. His eyes were looking anywhere but you, secretly afraid he’d break down and tell you everything he was holding back.

“You’re going to throw the last three years out the window over this? Without a compromise, or a conversation, or anything at all?” There was a few feet of space between you, both scared of breaking the invisible boundary.

“You’re leaving! You pack up all of your shit and move in with me, just to tell me a few months later that you’re moving across the country? You’ve known for a while, and you’re just telling me now?” He finally broke, the pain in his eyes clearer than anything you’d ever seen. The accusatory tone was infuriating, as if he was sentencing you with a crime you hadn’t committed.

“I haven’t known for a while, Josh. I just got the email today! I applied thinking there was no way in hell I would ever hear back, but I did, and I have to go. This is my dream, you know that. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted.” You pleaded for him to see reason.

“The only thing, huh?” You could tell the statement landed wrong, feeling guilty for even making him think that was what you meant. “I tell you all of the time you can come work with us, design for us; we’d be more than happy to have you there.”

“I can’t do that! I can’t always be in the background of your fame. I can’t backpack off of your success, live in the shadows of my boyfriend forever. I need to make a name for myself, to prove to everyone that I can do it on my own, without any handouts.” You explained. He nodded, barely responding to anything you had to say about it.

“That’s fine, y/n. Go, live your dream. I’m not stopping you.” He sounded defeated, like he was giving up.

“What about us?” You whispered, your voice hoarse from the hours of back-and-fourth yelling.

“Clearly you weren’t thinking about me when you made the decision, so why are you worried about it, now?” Your heart broke, the tears you were holding back finally falling down your cheeks. “You can go, but I’m not going to wait for you to come back.” Silence hung thick in the air, and for the first time in your long history, it was uncomfortable.

“So that’s it?” You snapped. “I can sit at home while you travel the world, wait for you to come home, not know if you’re sleeping with the millions of girls that throw themselves at you? That’s fine? But the minute I want to get out of here, escape the shitty 9-5 lifestyle and do something for myself, I’m the bad guy? I’m not asking you to drop everything and come with me, I’m just asking you to love me enough to support me while I do it!” You could see regret flash in his eyes, both of your emotions running high and clouding your judgement. When he remained silent, you got more than enough of an answer. “Okay,” you let out a small, humourless laugh. “I’ll get my shit, then. If this is how you want to go about it, fine by me. You’ll never have to see me again.” You turned towards the hallway, preparing yourself to pack up your entire life.

“Y/n,” he said, stopping you for a moment. “Just stay, please.” You could hear tears in his voice, too.

“So I can sit around and wait for you for the rest of my life?” Your voice cracked, effortlessly showing him all of the emotion you were trying not to let out. “I can’t put everything on pause because you don’t want me to go, Josh. I might never get a chance like this ever again. I don’t want to leave you, but this is my life. My dream.”

“I’m supposed to be a part of your life, too.”

“Not if you make me choose.”

“So you’ve already made up your mind?” The accusation fuelled a fire in you.

“I was hoping to have both, but I guess we can’t have everything we want.” He let out a long exhale.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He grumbled. “You’re leaving to chase after a possibility, y/n. You’re gonna move out there with no real offer lined up? You could get out there and end up at another shitty office job. Alone, away from everything you know. I’m here. I love you, and I’m certain about that.” Your stomach sank at his words, filled with dread knowing that he didn’t believe in you.

“You may be, but I’m not.” You scoffed. “If you love me, you’d support me. You know how bad I want this. You’re not being fair.” You waited for a moment, hoping he’d say something else. When you were met with another staggering silence, you stumbled away from him with your heart in your stomach and your head in your hands. You left your house key on the bed before walking away forever.

That was the last time you spoke to him. A few days after that, you got on a plane to New York and spent months trying to rid yourself of his memory. Now, over a year later, every essence of your being was still plagued with Josh Kiszka. You never got over him, you never moved on, and you never stopped thinking of him. He was the love of your life; the type of love that overshadowed any other emotion you could ever experience. Sure, you hated him, too, and a part of you hoped you’d never see him again, but there was a bigger part of you that longed for one more hug, or even just another smile. He was one of a kind, and nobody held a candle to him. He never texted, he never called, or even so much as liked a social media post. Sometimes, you wondered if you’d spend the rest of your life yearning for someone who barely remembered you existed.

As much as you still loved him, the hurt you held in your chest was debilitating. He let you walk out the door, no hint of hesitation. It killed you, because you’d spent years cheering him and his brothers on while they lived their dream, but he wasn’t willing to reciprocate for you. You hoped he would change his mind, but the only thing you’d received in your year away was radio silence. There was no solid proof that you ever existed to him aside from memory, and that’s what hurt you the most. You watched his life through pictures, his face gracing your phone screen with new press releases and album announcements, sending you spiralling down the Kiszka rabbit hole even further. You listened to their music every now and then, even watched a few interviews, just to remind yourself of what his voice sounded like. You were well aware that their new album was bound to release within the next few months. It served as another reminder of how great his life was going without you in it.

You hadn’t done too bad for yourself, either. The move to New York stemmed from a submission to be considered for a spot in New York Fashion Week. You’d applied as a model for the event, with slim expectations for a response. When they responded to your headshots, it kickstarted the fire in you to follow your passion. Once you arrived, you modelled and found that taste of life you’d been longing for so badly. You had the opportunity to meet big names you had been dreaming of meeting your whole life, and somehow even managed to pick up a mentor to help you achieve your biggest dream: design. After a few months of solely shadowing her, then a year of sleepless nights and some blood, sweat, and tears, you were finally set to release your own line of designer clothing. Of course, it was partnered with your mentor company, but it still adorned your name.

Most of your presale items were already sold out, giving you an overwhelming sense of pride. Big celebrities were in line to own your clothing, eager enough to buy it that they were ordering months ahead. As much as it hurt leaving everything behind when you moved to New York, your life was more than you ever could have imagined it, now. Still, with all of the financial success, a part of you still felt like it was missing. Somewhere amidst all of the fame, you realized that you may have given up a bit too much to get where you were. You tried not to focus on it, knowing that dwelling on the past would only limit you from the future. If Josh Kiszka was meant to be yours, he would be. If not, life would go on. You had to understand that, because if you believed anything else, you were sure it would kill you.

The crowd began to filter away in front of you, letting you know the doors to the event were opening. The cameras outside were still flashing, meaning guests were still arriving. You were thankful you had a room booked upstairs so you could avoid the paparazzi. As much as you loved your work, the galas and celebrations could be a bit much by times. You almost preferred the quietness of the design room over the runway, now. At first, the pictures and cheers and magazine covers were a thrill. They’d begun to lose their novelty almost as soon as it started, just the same as the parties. When your boss handed you a plane ticket a few days prior, you questioned why you were heading to Nashville. She’d wasted no time in telling you about the Gala you would be not only attending, but speaking at. Your stomach was sick at the idea. Some of it was due to the public speaking, but more so because Nashville was the last place you wanted to be. But, part of the job was to keep up appearances, so you had no choice but to oblige.

The question of Nashville in specific brought up a whole world of information. Apparently, the success of your line of clothing had caused some speculation of expansion. That morning, the company announced your own outlet store opening in your hometown. They thought it as a gift to you, but it was more of a nightmare. That meant a lot more time in Nashville, even permanently, for a while. Also, more appearances, and more of a chance to run into the boy you’d rather run away from. Still, your appreciation of the gesture was unmatched; knowing they had faith in you to have your own outlets meant more than anything in the world. You felt like the success you’d been searching for had finally rewarded you. So, you hopped on a plane and threw on your best dress. You left your hotel room with big smiles and the determination to forget any uncertainty. Still, you were well aware that a gala in Nashville would indisputably include musicians. That meant there was a larger chance of seeing Josh than you were particularly comfortable with.

You followed the sea of people into the large room, noticing it was decorated in hints of golds and silvers, really showcasing elegance. The stage was lit up with low lights, hinting towards the anticipated guest speakers. Soft music flowed through the sound system, enveloping you in a warm embrace. Music was the best way to drown out the other noise, and in your life, there was always noise. “You know, there’s more to life than caviar and blow.” You looked to your side, focusing on your company for the night. You laughed at her comment once you’d processed what she said. “I don’t think many people here know that.”

“It’s a tale of the rich, Liz. Most of these people were born on a bed of gold plated fish eggs and were shoved straight into generational drug addiction.” You smirked, eyes scanning the crowd. You knew your parents weren’t poor, but they were far from the families some of these people were born into. They had good reputations in the community, but not across the world. You weren’t impoverished, but would never have fathomed this type of money as a kid. As much as they cared about appearance, they were good parents. They raised you with love and strong morals, and you weren’t a stranger to struggle. They didn’t pay your way through life. What you got came from what you earned.

“Can you even imagine growing up this way? First birthdays spent at the Met Gala and graduation parties thrown in Venice?” She chuckled, but disbelief was present in her tone. Liz was a university student you’d hand picked to hire after her graduation. She doubled as an assistant and one of your models, but she was more than that. Over the months, she’d slowly turned into your best friend. She wasn’t much younger than you, only by about three years. Her resume caught your eye faster than any other, and you’d called her almost instantly. She just wanted experience in the fashion world, but you were certain that if things went smooth over the next few months, you’d ensure she’d be given her shares in the company. She worked extremely hard, had fantastic insight, along with being bright, kind, and hilarious. She kept you on your toes and brought you back to reality when you needed it.

“I suppose if you don’t know anything else, it’s completely normal.” You theorized. “I don’t ever want my kids to grow up that way. I don’t want them to be scared of playing outside and getting dirty. I don’t want money to be their main concern. And, if I had to suffer through the American public school system, they will too.” You laughed. She joined in, agreeing completely. You turned your head towards her, noticing the material of her dress was misplaced around her shoulders. “Mm, hold on,” you said, reaching over to her. She faced you, already knowing what the look on your face meant. You straightened it out, taking a small step back to double check. “There. Can’t have you in disarray, darling. Sure way to get us kicked out.” She grinned, picking up on your joking tone immediately.

“You just want your designer dresses to look perfect.”

“I’m nothing if not vain.” You both shared another laugh. You noticed a photographer making his way around the room through the corner of your eye. “Lipstick check.” You said, panicked. You flashed her your teeth.

“You’re good.” She repeated the action back to you.

“You, too.” You let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Can’t wait to get the pictures and introductions over with so we can start drinking.”

“You don’t need any generational alcoholism; you got that all by yourself.” She chided. You chuckled, eyes searching for a server with champagne. That was one thing that was always for certain; no matter how mind-numbing the gala’s were, there was always high-end alcohol floating around somewhere.

“It’s not all pretty patterns and cross stitching, you know. Have to drown the demons somehow.” Your conversation was cut short by a camera being shoved in your faces. You gave your best public smile, the kind where your lips were upturned but you looked a little dead behind the eyes. Somehow in the celebrity world, that equated to elegance. You posed with Liz, giving the camera a bit of a show. Eventually, you broke and gave a real smile, but only for a moment. Once the photographer moved away, you relaxed your posture, feeling a bit more human.

“Does fame always entail looking soulless?”

“Yeah, pretty much. You’ll get used to it.” You mumbled, eyes falling to the table that was overflowing with food. Your eyes lit up at the sight of self-serve champagne flutes. You grabbed Liz’s hand, bringing her along with you as you advanced towards it. You picked up a glass, immediately taking a large gulp out of it. The nude colour of your lipstick stained the rim, claiming it as your own. Liz grabbed one too, also indulging in the bubbly liquid. “You don’t have to look soulless all of the time. Just when you’re posing, or on the walk, or if you’re walking down the street, or at the supermarket.” You listed, humour radiating from you. “Interviews give you the chance to show a little bit of life. Takes the world as a shock, you know, when they realize you actually have a personality.” You continued the earlier conversation.

“That seems a bit odd, doesn’t it?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. But it’s what I was taught.” You gave a shrug. “I think people find power attractive, and that’s kind of what you encase in pictures when you look like that. At least that’s what I picked up from it.”

“Makes sense, I guess. Also makes the interviews more memorable, too. People cling to the emotion ‘cause they feel like they finally get to know some part of you. Feel connected, even.”

“Exactly, sweetheart. See? You’re gonna have my job in no time.”

“Oh, don’t say that, you’ve got at least two more good years before people get bored of you.” You couldn’t help the cackle that fell from your lips, finding the statement hilarious mostly because of its truth. The spotlight only shines for so long before it’s begging to move on. “I don’t want your job. I’d like to work with you forever, I think.” She picked up an appetizer from the table, eyeing it suspiciously before popping it in her mouth.

“Don’t you think I’d be more fun when I go batshit crazy because I don’t know what to do with myself after the fame?”

“No, because I’d have to take care of you.” She said without missing a beat. “I know the rest of the ass-kissers at the office won’t. They just want their five minutes of fame. They don’t give a shit about you.” You hummed an agreement, knowing she was speaking the truth. True connection in the world of money and power was rare, and she was the only person you’d ever felt it with aside from your own mentor. It was a constant struggle of use people or get used, and it was exhausting. As much passion as you had for your work, you were always the first to admit that the industry was ruthless.

“Yeah, sometimes I feel like Julius Caesar walking in there. Waiting for the day they all get together and stab me.” You took another sip from your glass.

“Well, they’ll probably stab me, too. At least we can go to hell, together.” You raised your glass as a cheers to the statement. She gently clicked her glass against yours in response. “Jokes aside, you are a good boss. They all have great things to say about you, so you don’t have to worry about planned assassination, yet.”

“Fantastic news. I’ve been preparing for it for weeks, now.” You smiled. Just as you finished speaking, the lights dimmed a little further. You paid no mind to it, assuming it was just a cue for everyone to gather around in preparation for the first speech. “I want to be a good boss. I don’t want to be the person everybody is scared of. I do what I do because I love it, not for the money. If I can make people fall in love with it, too, then I know I did something worthwhile. That’s the end goal.” You drained the last of your beverage, placing your glass on the tray to be taken away. You immediately went for another, needing the liquid courage for when the stage was yours.

“You do a good job. That office is full of inspiration. I never felt out of place, even when I had no experience. Made me feel like I was meant to be there, rather than just meant to work for you.” You let a smile out, one laced with genuineness.

“Cause you are, Liz. I didn’t hire you because i thought you’d stroke my ego. I hired you because I knew you’d challenge me. There’s no pride in getting your way all of the time. We all need a little criticism to thrive.”

“It’s insane, y/n. I remember being in my grad year and hearing about the new model catching the attention of everyone at Fashion Week. Less than a year later, you were working with one of the biggest designers in America, and starting your own brand. You made the industry your bitch, and when you hired me I was terrified of you. I thought anyone who climbed the ladder that fast had to be evil. But you’re just a person. My friend, even. You respect everyone, from the big bosses to the janitors. It’s very admirable.”

“Don’t stroke my ego, I just told you that’s not why I hired you.” You chuckled. “I was the same as everyone else, too. I didn’t come from money, I had to do the dirty work, I got my heart broken, and knocked down a few times, too. I can recognize what I have now had a lot to do with luck, even if I do have the talent. That’s just the way the industry works. But, everyone plays a part in success, even if you’re the one changing the garbages, signing the legal documents, or have your name sewn into the tag.” She watched you in admiration as you spoke, almost shaking her head in disbelief. Despite the tiny age gap, she always felt like she could get the wisdom she craved from you. She looked up to you, even when you told her not to. In your eyes, you and her were the same. You wished she’d start to see it that way, too. “You’ll realize I’m just me when I get up there and stumble over all of my words.” You chuckled.

“You’ll look hot while you do it, though.” She gave you a nudge with your elbow. You laughed, feeling redness rise to your cheeks.

“You think so?” You appreciated the compliment more than she realized. Deep down, you were hoping to look good, just in case Josh happened to be floating around the event.

“Oh, yeah. That dress was the right choice.” You both fell into a silence, meticulously people watching. By the time the first speech was over with, you were buzzing with nervousness for your turn on the stage. You realized just how many people were there as you observed the crowed, understanding that if you messed up, you’d be the laughing stock of the event. Liz picked up on your anxiety, soothing you with small jokes and comments intermittently. It was helping slightly, knowing that you weren’t there alone, at least.

You’d done a lot of behind the scenes work over the last year. You did a few shows, not minding the camera in your face because you didn’t have to say anything. There was no worry of stutters or misplaced rambling. Only recently had you started speaking publicly, beginning with interviews and press conferences. Now, they were integrating you into a spokesperson. As your mentor told you, your work is nothing without publicity. You needed to create the illusion of connection, make people believe they know you, make them feel appreciated. That was the key to success. You spoke at a few gala’s, but this was the largest one to date with some of the most popular faces. The alcohol was giving you a bit of a sense of confidence, and whether it was fake or not didn’t matter; you had it, and you were going to use it.

A hand on your shoulder sent a jolt of shock through you, as it was unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting. Somewhere in your soul, you recognized it without even having to look at the face. “I always told you green was your colour, sunshine.” The tone, the dialect, formulation of the words, even the barely noticeable Michigan accent at the end of the sentence was painstakingly reminiscent for you. Your stomach plummeted, heart pounding against your rib cage as you turned towards the voice. Your gaze connected with his, sending a wave of emotion through you more powerful than most you’d felt before.

“Jake,” you breathed. His lips upturned into a smile, unable to contain his excitement to see you.

“I missed you.” He said, wasting no time pulling you into a hug. As much of a shock as it was to see him, you couldn’t help but melt into the hold. As angry as you were with his brother, Jake had always been your best friend through the years of dating Josh. When your relationship came to an untimely end, so did your friendship. You’d grown estranged from the boy in the same way you had with Josh, and it killed you just the same, too. You spent days deliberating reaching out to him, just to check in, but you didn’t want to overstep boundaries. Instead, you mastered the art of becoming a stranger with him, too.

“You had time to miss me with all of that music you’re making?” You teased, pulling back but not fully letting go of him. Your hand rested on his bicep, hesitant to release him in case he slipped away. “An album and another world tour coming up, I’m surprised you have time to think of anything other than that guitar.”

“Always have time to think about you,” he said, trying to pass it off as a joke. You could see a flicker of hurt cross his eyes, the small emotion feeling like a stab to the chest. “What about you, though? Your own brand and an outlet store here in Nashville?”

“So you keep up to date with me?” You grinned.

“Seems like you do, too.” He chuckled. “I, uh… I’m proud of you, Sunny.” The words settled in your bones like cement, weighing you down. As kind as they were, everything seemed to hurt when it was coming from his mouth. Maybe it was the way he said it, or the way his tone of voice reminded you so much of the boy you forced yourself to stop thinking about. Maybe it was his mannerisms, or the face, because when he turned his head a certain angle, all you could see was Josh. Whatever it was, it hurt, and it hurt achingly bad.

“I’m proud of you guys, too. The single was phenomenal. I always knew you guys were destined for something big. I think I can even see the rock and roll hall of fame in your future.” You smiled.

“One can dream.” He laughed. “I saw you were almost completely sold out of pre-orders. Everybody has been talking about you. It’s crazy.”

“You checked out my website?” You asked, a fizzle of excitement sparking in your chest. He scoffed at the question.

“I think we were the first to put an order in.” He was telling the truth, you could sense the genuine nature of his words just by his eyes. “The men’s line is super cool, by the way.”

“Oh,” you squeaked. “You got something?” Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment.

“Of course we did, y/n. We all got something.” You wanted to press further about his statement of ‘all’, but you pushed the thought away.

“I thought you guys would have forgotten about me by now.” You admitted. A bewildered look flashed across his face.

“Forget you?” He asked, unable to believe you’d ever think that. “Sunny, we think about you almost every day. We talk about you all of the time.” You swallowed hard at the new found information. “I saw your name on the program and I knew I couldn’t let you get away without saying hi, at least. I’ve been looking for you all night. Recognized you as soon as I saw you over here. Could spot you from a mile away. I know… I know things ended pretty poorly, but the love is still there. That’ll never go away.” You almost didn’t know how to answer, wanting to pry more from him, but also not wanting to know at all.

“Is… is Josh here, too?” You finally asked, knowing the answer before he replied.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Is he,” you paused yourself, unsure if the inquiries were pushing a boundary. “okay? I mean, like obviously, but you know.” You rambled, embarrassing yourself slightly.

“He’s Josh.” Jake assured you, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “He misses you. He’s the first to check all of the fashion magazines to see if they’re talking about you. He hasn’t been… quite the same, since everything. He still laughs and drinks and rambles, but he’s a bit more distant, I think.”

“Oh,” you repeated your same proclamation from earlier.

“If you feel up to it, maybe stop and say hello. Even if you don’t talk to him, Sam and Danny would be over the moon to see you.”

“Uh, I don’t know, Jake.” A humourless laugh fell from your lips. “Some things are just better left as is.”

“I don’t think this one is,” he said, eyes boring into you. “It’s completely up to you, sunshine.” He said, smiling warmly to assure you he meant it. Before you could respond, the announcer called out your name; in the height of emotion, you must have missed your introduction. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye, okay?” Jake said, ushering you to the stage. You nodded, downing the last of your champagne before bustling towards the stairs. You were mindful of the skirt of your dress as you walked, fearing you may trip on it and ruin the entrance. Once you had both feet planted safely on the stage, you took to the mic stand.

“Thank you for that kind introduction,” You smiled off to the side of the stage at the host, assuming he had said something kind like he had for the other speakers. Otherwise, you would look a bit like a fool. “It’s fantastic to be here tonight.” You took in a breath, trying not to focus on the crowd staring up at you. “I spent a long time debating on what to say when I got here, tonight. If I’m being completely transparent, I’m still not sure. The boss told me to get up here and tell you about myself, so that’s what I’m going to do.” You started, eyes settling on Liz for some sense of security. You used her as a focal point until your comfortability grew. “It’s intimidating getting on stage and talking about success. Especially when I feel far behind in that department, sometimes. It doesn’t seem to matter how many sales are made, or how many congratulations are spewed; we always seem to be our biggest critic, and I haven’t been able to break that habit, yet. Growing up in Nashville, there was always buzz about the greats and the up and coming stars; this whole city, and state, is full of pride, and for good reason. To think that I can be considered part of it has been mind-blowing. Knowing the support I have from home and all over the world has been incredibly eye opening, and a bit of a confidence boost, too.” You flashed a smile, causing a chorus of laughter from the audience.

“Just over a year ago, I was packing my bags and riddled with anxiety at the thought of jumping on a plane and flying away from everything I’d ever known. Somehow, by the grace of the universe, I’d been selected to participate in New York Fashion Week. When I moved there, there was no true promise of a career, but the publicity certainly seemed like a good place to start. As I flew away from here, all I could hear in my head was a million reasons to turn around and stay home. There was one voice of reason in the swarm of negativity that pushed me to follow my dream, and I’m so thankful I listened to it.” You paused, regaining your breath before you continued on. “When I arrived, I got to meet people I’d been admiring for my entire life; names that I never thought I would get a chance to speak about, let alone speak to them. I walked with pride, even in my ignorance. I had no idea what I was doing, I was just happy to be there. Somehow, in my clumsiness and lack of grace, someone saw potential. I was lucky enough to be graced with a mentor who never gave up on me; one who taught me everything I know. She is my rock, and my mother away from home. I owe every success to her, and I have no shame in saying that.” There was an awe from the crowd, appreciating the sweetness.

“She taught me design, sure, but more so than that, she taught me dedication, pride and the true meaning of hard work.” Another laugh sounded. “After a few months of relentless effort, it started to pay off. A few small companies picked up my designs, using them for miscellaneous projects. But one day, in the dreariness of winter, I was given my most valuable gift; the offer to launch my own line of clothing. Of course, partnered with my parent company, but my own work, with my heart and soul stitched into the seams. I still struggle to believe it’s real.” There was a chorus of cheers at the statement. You gave a smile, rose dusting your cheeks. “In the time from the early stages of production to now, I’ve made incredible memories. There were hard times, lots of tears and challenges, and even a couple nights leaving me with the desire to give up. But I pushed through, persevering only due to the strength that my team gives me every day. Every person I work with played a part in me getting here, and it would be incredibly dishonourable to walk away without thanking them for their hard work, too. I was lucky enough to bring along my assistant, Liz.” You pointed to her in the front row. “She’s been my driving force, my best friend, and my motivation. I have no doubt that she’ll take over for me eventually, or even be bigger than what I am, now. If anyone deserves applause, it’s her.” The crowd gave another round of cheers, causing the younger girl to erupt in a blush, smiling and waving slightly. When the crowd died down, you continued.

“I’m beyond grateful to say the presales for the brand have nearly been sold out already. That is almost unfathomable for me to think about. This morning our company issued an announcement, which I’m sure some have heard by now. After months of relentless efforts, and the dedication from my fantastic colleagues, in addition to launching this new line of clothing, our first outlet will be opening here in Nashville. We thought it only right for my hometown to be the first place to have access to our store. I’m at a loss of words at the moment; I cannot express my gratitude enough.” A round of applause sounded. You couldn’t hold back your grin, looking around the room at all of the beaming faces.

“I want to sincerely thank everyone here for giving me the time to speak. Telling my story still feels very odd, like I shouldn’t have a story to tell. I never expected to be here in my lifetime, let alone at the young age that I am. To be considered a part of Nashville’s pride is an extraordinary feeling, and proof that hard work does pay off. I would be nothing without this city, and to see the love it has for me is a beautiful thing. I also want to say thank you to all of the friends of the past, ones who I don’t necessarily speak with anymore, but I always hold close to me, no matter the distance. There’s a few in the audience tonight, ones who will forever hold a place in my heart. They helped me get here just as much as anyone else.” You gave a soft smile, trying to locate Jake. You caught sight of him, making sure he knew who you were talking about. You ignored the bodies that stood next to him, unsure if you could keep going if you caught Josh’s gaze. “So with that, I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy your night of festivities. The food is fantastic, and so are the drinks. Thank you for allowing me to share my celebrations with you all, and here’s to a hundred more outlet stores across the world.”

As you stepped off the stage, you were finally able to fully catch your breath. The clapping and cheering didn’t fully dissipate until you rejoined Liz by the beverages. “You did fantastic!” She raved, handing you a new glass of champagne.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.” You breathed, fanning yourself with your hand. You grabbed the champagne with your other, wanting to drink away the feeling of standing on stage. “This is so stupid, don’t you think?” You asked her. “A bunch of rich people bragging about how rich they are.”

“That’s only some of them. Others are people who worked hard and want to celebrate the success. That’s where you come in.” She gave you a pat on the shoulder. “Thanks for the mention. Made me feel special.”

“You are special,” you laughed. “Takes a certain type of person to be able to put up with me all day.”

“Mm, you seem pretty widely liked. Who was that guy you were talking to?” She pried. You grimaced at the memory of the interaction.

“Uh, that was ex-boyfriends twin brother.” You explained. Her eyes widened at the knowledge, almost as if she didn’t believe you. You were surprised she didn’t catch on. Well, more surprised that she wasn’t eavesdropping. If you were her, you would be.

“Like ex-boyfriend who broke up with you because you moved to New York?”

“That’s the one.” You nodded. She knew about Josh, but mostly just the basics. She was well aware of the constant internal battle of still loving him and hating his guts. “Jake was my best friend, too, though. Just ‘cause me and Josh ended badly doesn’t mean I don’t love him.” You shrugged.

“So do we hate Josh today, or love him?” She raised an eyebrow.

“To be determined.” You grabbed a napkin off the table and one of the more appetizing looking foods.

“Is he here?” You nodded.

“Whole band is. I’m not surprised. They have an album and a world tour coming up.”

“So you keep tabs on them,” she smirked.

“Yeah, obviously. You wouldn’t?”

“Fair enough.” She conceded. “Are you going to talk to him?”

You didn’t answer, mostly because you weren’t sure yourself. You had no idea if you wanted to talk to him, and no idea if he wanted to talk to you. You weren’t mad at her for being curious. She’d been trying to set you up on dates the entire time she’d known you, but you always turned them down. She only clued in to why after you told her about Josh. You had no interest in dating anyone, mostly because you were certain nobody would ever compare to him. The other part of you was terrified of getting hurt like that again. When Josh let you walk out without as much as a shred of hesitation, it shattered you. He was everything; the one thing in your life you’d ever been 100% certain of. Leaving him behind was gut wrenching, but knowing he didn’t care enough to fight for you was worse. You always believed he loved you enough to not care about the distance; the few tours he’d done while you were dating never proved to be an issue. You had a hard time swallowing the truth that he didn’t mind the distance as long as he wasn’t the one waiting at home.

“I don’t know, Liz.” You sighed. “It’s been a long time. I think it’s better to just let it go.”

“If you still love him this much after all of this time, maybe you shouldn’t.” You placed the flute to your lips, tipping your head back and taking another long drink of champagne.

“You’ll learn soon enough not to listen to your heart all of the time. Brain knows best.” You reminded. “And stop being an instigator, you little shit.” You laughed. She smiled, but her eyes were following something behind you. You furrowed your eyebrows at her sudden disinterest in you, finding it odd.

“Better turn your heart off, then.” She let out a quick mumble of words. She’d recognized him just from the similarities to his brother. There was no mistaking who he was, or who he was intending to talk to.

“What?” You questioned, turning your head to look in the direction of her gaze. As soon as you did, you wished you hadn’t.

Your heart sped, stomach erupting into nervous butterflies. Your palms were sweating and your breath was stuck in your throat. Josh was there, approaching you with intent. He looked different; his hair was fluffier, shaved down on the sides. He had facial hair, too, although not much. He really looked like he’d grown up since the last time you’d seen him. But, if you had to admit it, you did, too. No more kids pretending to be grown ups with too many hopes and dreams; real adults with real professions. Adults that admittedly, had been very stupid. Adults that were still very much hurting over the mistakes their younger selves made. The difference 18 months can make was staggering, you realized.

His confidence faltered once he caught your eyes. He was certain he was going to fall to his knees, weak just from the sight of you in front of him again. As he walked, he debated turning around, pretending he’d never seen you at all. But, he was certain there was a gleam of hope in your eye, and that drove him to keep going. “I’ll catch up with you later,” Liz said, quickly shuffling away to give you a moment of privacy. By the time she was out of sight, he was in front of you. The scent of incense and lingering cologne hit you like a ton of bricks. It was a scent you’d been craving for a long time, unmistakably Josh. Unmistakably home. The both of you stood, unsure of where to start. The emotion was too intense for a simple hello, but the uncertainty limited you both from saying anything else.

You looked over his face, taking in his features, studying him as if you were trying to memorize him all over again. He did look different, his jaw a bit more prominent and overall looked a bit more serious than he used to. Still, under the new facade, he was in there. The Josh you fell in love with was undoubtedly standing in front of you, just rebranded. You realized he couldn’t change enough to take away the type of love you had for him, for it was undying. “Is this the part where we cause a scene and I throw my drink at you?” You asked. The corner of his lips upturned into a smirk.

“If you feel the need to, I suppose I could understand why.” You returned the expression, happy to know that the spark was still there. At least to you, it was.

“How’ve you been, Josh?” You whispered. You were certain a flash of hurt crossed his eyes as the words left your lips. It was one that told you he thought too much of you for such simplistic small-talk. One that screamed rejection at the formalities, especially considering you both knew each other better than anyone else.

“Travelling the world.” He shrugged, but that’s all he gave. “What about you, Sunshine?” The sound of the nickname coming from his lips could have sent you straight to your knees. You had to take a long breath before you could respond, feeling the need to recover from his question.

“Dressing up and pretending I fit in with these people.”

“Pretending?” He challenged. “Could’ve fooled me.” You gave a soft smile. “That speech was phenomenal.”

“Suppose I’ve grown into the part, now.”

“Crazy what a year and a half can do, eh?” You caught his eyes, feeling your heart ache at the sea of brown you’d been missing so much. “Not like anyone was counting, though.” He added, trying to pass it off as a joke, afraid to let the vulnerability through.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “You look good.” You finally said, airing out what you wanted to admit. He chuckled.

“Have you looked in a mirror, lately? Success looks fantastic on you.” He breathed. “I didn’t think you could get any prettier, but you always seem to surprise me.” Your heart fluttered at the compliment.

“You’re all looking quite spectacular, actually. I’d like to meet your stylist. Seems like they really know what they’re doing. The stage outfits are a masterpiece. Maybe I could work with them, if you’re willing to open up a spot for an old friend.” You smiled, a warm one without any dishonest undertones. He let out a small laugh, nodding along to your statement.

“I’m sure we could work something out. We’d all be pretty thrilled to have you on board with us.” A painful moment ensued, one where you clearly picked up on his refrain. He was talking in broadness to avoid letting you know how badly he’d enjoy having you around, again. “Did you maybe want to go somewhere a bit more private?” He asked, breaking the silence you’d fallen into.

“Yeah, that would be alright.” You nodded. “Think I need a few drinks for this conversation, though.” You finished the last of your champagne and grabbed two more flutes. He nodded, appreciating the idea, then grabbed two for himself. He was grateful you hadn’t turned around and walked away. A simple hello was more than he was expecting from the conversation.

He led you in the direction of a side door, opening it and holding it for you. You slipped out, noticing that it revealed a patio area. The night was cool, but clear. The stars twinkled few and far between, and the moon casted a low light over the ground. There were a few tables and chairs places spaciously around the deck, the posts adorned with swirls of string lights. It would have been quite romantic had the mood not been so sullen. He pulled out a chair for you, inviting you to sit down. You did so, placing your glasses on the table. He pulled a chair from the other side of the table towards you. He settled in front of you, a little bit closer than ex’s should sit.

He took a long look at you, drinking in every detail and finding himself intoxicated from it. He’d wished for so long to have you in front of him again that he seemed to forget the effect you had on him. It had only gotten worse with time. He looked to be waiting for you to speak first, so you did. “Why’d you let me go that night?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“I was stupid.” He admitted.

“Yeah,” you nodded, agreeing with him.

“Why’d you leave like that?” He asked, challenging your question. You looked up at him, disbelief clouding your expression.

“You made me choose, Josh.” You reminded him, not willing to take the blame for the situation.

“And you didn’t choose me.” He said, not in an accusatory fashion. Just in a simple sense, as if he was recalling the night as you spoke.

“I didn’t want to choose at all.” You explained. “You were asking me to pick between the two things I wanted most in life. It’s not like I walked into that conversation planning to leave you.”

“You chose a job over me, y/n.” You shot him a look, one that he knew all too well. It would take a lifetime to forget it.

“What if it was the other way around? You know you wouldn’t have picked me over music.” He kept his gaze on you, almost smiling, despite the situation being completely humourless.

“I certainly would have thought about it.” He answered. You could see he meant it, but you weren’t sure if he understood the implications of what he was saying.

“Okay.” You nodded, acknowledging his answer. “Come to New York with me.” You said, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head.

“What?”

“Come to New York with me.” You repeated, refusing to back down. He didn’t need to know you’d likely be staying in Nashville at least for the foreseeable future. He didn’t need to know your bags were packed at your apartment, waiting for you to return just so you could pick them up. Your homecoming was set in stone, but you needed to see if he realized the extent of his answer.

“Things are different, now, y/n.” He said, dismissing the subject.

“Pretend they’re not.” You urged. “Please.”

“I would fly to see you on the weekends. Stay with you as much as I could. But I couldn’t move there.” He said. You nodded along to his words, begging for him to see the issue in his statement.

“What if that’s not good enough? It’s all or nothing, Josh.” You felt your anger that you’d suppressed for so long begin to surface. “It’s me or the band.” You leaned forward, catching his eyes as he tried to look away from you.

“I get it, okay!” He finally exploded, likely feeling the same way you did. “I know what I did wasn’t right. I’ve spent a year and a half trying to forgive myself for it. But you were so caught up in being mad that you didn’t even stop to think about how I felt!” Rarely did you ever see Josh yell, let alone expel frustration the way he was doing in that moment. You were taken back, but not distracted from your feelings.

“Then tell me!” You pleaded. “You wouldn’t even look at me that night! All you said was you didn’t have anything to say to me, but clearly you do, so say it!”

“Fine, you want to hear it?” He asked, leaning forward, too. “I love, but I don’t fall in love with people. Never have. Thought it was too much commitment for such a short lifetime. I spent my entire life completely fine with never settling down. Then I met you, and you changed everything! I didn’t even get to decide whether I fell in love with you or not. By the time I started to realize how much you meant to me, I was already head over heels. I spent every day of my life, for three years, falling more in love with you every day that passed; I changed my whole outlook because you showed up and made me realize maybe I just hadn’t met the right person, and that’s why I never wanted to commit. We moved in together, and I started picturing this life with you, one where you had my last name and we had a few kids. Then you left. You just came home one day and said you were leaving, as if it weren’t an earth-shattering idea. I was so mad because you changed my entire life, and then you took it away!” You understood better, now. He felt abandoned, and you caused it. He never would have admitted it to you then, and he barely wanted to, now. Still, the idea of him thinking you were going to walk away and forget all about him stung like no other.

“I didn’t leave you, Josh. I left Nashville!” You exclaimed. “I never pictured a life without you, and I still don’t! I sit at my apartment alone and hope that maybe you’ll text me, or call, or show up! But you never did, so I had to learn how to deal with it!”

“It was the same thing, y/n! You left me behind for a whole new life. If we didn’t break up that night, we would have anyway!” You’re recoiled as if he’d burned you. “I didn’t call because you were perfectly fine leaving me here! You jumped on that plane and got to start over, and I got to sleep in a bed that haunted me with your presence!”

“It wasn’t the same, Josh.” You shook your head. “I sat at home in that apartment every day when you were touring the world, watching you live your dream from the sidelines. Watching girls throw themselves at you, always wondering if maybe I’d wake up one day and you’d find someone new. I waited for you, watching your life through a phone screen while I worked my shitty 9-5 and settled for video calls whenever you had time for me. Not once did I make you feel like shit about it. But the minute I get a chance at the life I’ve always dreamed of, it was a choice? One or the other? It wasn’t fucking fair, Josh. How was I supposed to stay after that?”

“You started dating me knowing that was my life! I spent three years with you building one of our own, one that we were used to, and comfortable with, one where we were happy. You came home one day and told me you’re getting on a plane and leaving for god knows how long. There was no discussion, I just had to be okay with it!” He was leaning closer with every word. Your faces were inches apart, both of you radiating with anger and on the defensive.

“Of course you were, Josh! You were my boyfriend! I told you I got invited to model in New York Fashion Week, and you made me feel like I didn’t have it in me, like you were already waiting for me to fail and come crawling back to you! You let me walk out that door like the three years we spent together meant nothing to you. Like you were only okay with being in love with me as long as it benefited you.” Tears were brimming in your eyes, the ache of the pain from that night still as prominent as it was a year prior. “You knew how much it meant to me. It was my biggest dream, one that I thought I would never achieve. I finally had a chance to live the life I always wanted, which still in included you, by the way, but you were too stubborn to understand anything other than your hurt. I would have came home every weekend to see you, called you every night, I would have done anything, because you were my whole world! You were supposed to support me, and you left me! I walked out that night, but you made that decision!” The tears spilled on to your cheeks, finally shed after so long holding them back. In the heat of the moment, at the sight of your hurt, he threw the anger and the fighting to the side. Without hesitation, his arms shot out and pulled you into a hug. You didn’t fight, just held him, too. As upset as you were, you knew that his hold was something you’d been longing for the whole time you were apart. The way he felt wrapped around you made you believe that the world was okay; the comfort was an impenetrable force.

“I never wanted to make you feel that way.” He whispered, holding your head securely in his palm. He used his other one to rub circles on your back. “I will always be your biggest fan, even if we never speak again after tonight. I’m so proud of you, and I can’t stress that enough. I was selfish, and I know that. You did so much for me, you always supported me, and I took it for granted. I was hurt when you left, but I never should have let you leave like that. I should have been there for you, cheering you on the same way you did for me.” He hesitated, but placed a kiss to the top of your head. When you didn’t recoil, he took it as a win. “I’m so sorry, y/n.”

“I am, too.” You said, the tears finally slowing. You pulled back, although quite hesitant in the action. He let you, but didn’t remove his hand from you. Instead, his thumb drifted to your cheek to wipe away the tears that had fallen. “It was never from a lack of love, Josh. When it comes to you, that’s not even a possibility. Breaking up with you was never an idea in my head. The distance didn’t scare me, because I knew I loved you enough to work through anything. When you wanted me to choose, I panicked. I was hurt, and I reacted based on that. I shouldn’t have walked out without fixing things. That was my mistake.”

“No, y/n. I shouldn’t have put you in that position, and I never should have let you leave like that. I was hurting and I was scared, I thought you would leave and forget about me. I didn’t want to lose you, but I ended up losing you, anyway, and I still haven’t recovered. It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” You leaned into his touch, resting your head on his hand.

“Josh, I fell in love with you the day I met you. That never changed. I still walk around New York City, hoping I run into you, praying it won’t be like this forever. Your memory lives in everything I do; I couldn’t forget about you, even if I wanted to. Trust me, I’ve tried.” You laughed. “You’re the love of my life, whether it was only for a period of time or if we still have a chance. Nobody could ever replace you.”

“I never moved out of the apartment. It’s still decorated the same. It still has little reminders of you, everywhere. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of them. Jake thinks I’m insane, or I’m torturing myself. I guess I just thought you’d come back for them, someday.” He confessed. “I still love you the same as I did a year ago.”

“Me, too.” You closed your eyes, hoping to hold on to the memory of his words forever. “So we’ve both been waiting for each other to come back this whole time? We’ve just been too stubborn to send a message first?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Both of us watching the others lives through social media, the most impersonal way possible.”

“You looked so happy. I was worried you were happier without me.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes at the statement.

“See? Impersonal. I’ve been miserable, mama.” Your heart soared at the term of endearment. You reached for your champagne glass, taking a sip, careful not to let your eyes leave him.

“Yeah, me too.” You eventually laughed. “We don’t have to be miserable, anymore. Not tonight, at least.” You said, wanting to blame the advance on the alcohol, but knowing deep down that it was wholly untrue.

“Are you saying what I think you are?” He raised an eyebrow. The Josh you knew so well was starting to make an appearance, again. You gave a shrug.

“I have a room upstairs with free room service. King bed, too.” He looked at you with intrigue, wanting to jump at the chance but still being afraid your judgement was clouded. He didn’t want you to regret it in the morning.

“There’s probably still a lot we could get off our chests. Did you want to talk more, first? I just want you to be sure this is what you want.” You stood, drinking the last of the liquid from your glass and moving on to the next.

“Fuck, Josh, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. We can figure it out in the morning. I haven’t had sex in a year and a half, and I’m tired of waiting. I want you.” He took a deep inhale at the words, fighting the urge to take your clothes off right there. He stood, too, grabbing his own champagne glasses. He had no fight left in him, because he wanted you just as bad.

“Lead the way, mama.” For a moment, things felt right. Like no time had passed and you were both the same people as you were before all of the hurt. You turned on your heels, heading back to the door you came through, earlier. He was hot on your trail, not willing to let you leave his sight.

You slipped back inside, noticing the speeches had come to a close and the lights were off. The music was louder and the mood lighting really set the tone for the rest of the night. If you weren’t in such an entanglement, you thought you might enjoy it. But, you were certain that the nights events would top whatever enjoyment the ballroom could give you. You dropped off your empty glasses on the way by, watching Josh discard his, too. You reached out for him, looking back over your shoulder. He tangled his fingers with yours, over the moon at the feeling after so long without it. You guided him to the exit, managing to sneak out without too many curious glances. Liz, however, noticed you as soon as you came back inside. Josh’s brothers did, too. All of them were well aware that it wasn’t over between the two of you, and it never would be. They were waiting for the reunion just as much as the two of you were.

You both ran down the hallway to the elevator, giggles slipping out intermittently. When the doors opened, allowing you inside, Josh jumped at the moment of seclusion. His hand found your waist, pulling you into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. His free hand guided your chin upwards, finally taking the chance to lean down and kiss you. You melted into the feeling, closing your eyes in bliss. It was sweet, no provocative nature present. Just both of you savouring the moment in which you’d been denied of for months. When the ding signified your destination was reached, his wandering hands were reluctant to pull away. Thankfully, your room wasn’t too far away, meaning he wouldn’t have to wait too long to continue.

You keyed into your room, barely getting the door closed before he was back on you. You both kicked off your shoes, leading him further inside before things got too heated. You parted from him to click on the lamp by your bedside. He took the chance to admire you, now. No more residual tension was clouding his vision. “You look stunning, y/n.” You turned to him, a smile on your lips.

“You look pretty good yourself, Joshua.” He approached again, slower and more cautious. He raised his hand to your cheek, brushing away all of the hair obscuring the sight of your face.

“Has it really been that long?” He didn’t need to clarify; you knew what he was asking. You gave a nod, hoping you didn’t have to dive into it too far. In truth, you didn’t want to hear a submission of guilt from him. If he’d been with other people in your time apart, it was his free will, and you couldn’t be upset about it. There was no disloyalty of any kind, but you certainly didn’t want to imagine it.

“I guess it never felt right. Always felt like I was still yours, I think.” You shrugged. He smiled at the words, overjoyed at the profession.

“Me either,” he said, running his thumb over your cheek. “I was always yours, too.” You let out a sigh of relief, almost feeling the need to cry again. The entire night felt so surreal, almost as if you were dreaming.

“God, please tell me this is real life. I don’t want to wake up disappointed.” You pleaded. He chuckled, finding the statement quite cute.

“It’s real, mama. Trust me, I feel the same way.” He leaned down, kissing you once more. Your hand reached for him, landing somewhere on his side. You didn’t care where it landed, only that you were touching him again. “Sounds like we’ve got a lot of time to make up for.” He stated, pulling back just enough to get the words out. A laugh fell from your lips, one that was quiet and still laced with disbelief. “Turn around for me.” You obliged, spinning to face the other direction.

His fingers drifted over your exposed skin, gathering your hair and pushing it to the side. He unzipped your dress, gently brushing the silk straps from your shoulders. He leaned forward pressing his lips to the spots they once graced. You let out a hum of delight, closing your eyes at the sensation. He let you decide whether you wanted to let the fabric fall, and you did. It dropped with as much elegance as it held while you adorned it on your body. He bent down, waiting for you to step away from it. Once you did, he cautiously picked it from the ground, gently laying it over the chair by the bedside. Once it was safely out of the way, he finally turned to look at you again. His breath caught in his throat, completely taken off guard at the sight of you naked before him once again.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispered, taking a step towards you. You were standing, completely naked aside from your underwear, at full disposal for whatever he chose to do with you. There was no worry in your body; the minute his hands found you again, you were certain you’d found home, again. After so long wandering through life, gaining success but never really feeling like you belonged, it made sense again. All of the money and the fame was satisfying, but never fulfilling. His touch reminded you of why everybody loved to say money can’t buy happiness. There was no financial value that would ever equate to the feeling of being loved by Josh. If you were put on earth for a purpose, it was to be loved by him, and to love him. Nobody could look at you and see right into your soul the way he could; he knew every part of you without even looking or having to ask. “Lay down, baby.” He insisted.

You allowed him to guide you down on the bed, your head finding home in the nest of pillows. He rid himself of his jacket, and his shirt wasn’t long following. You watching him in awe, not being able to comprehend how one boy could posses so much beauty. It was in everything he did, his words, his actions, his appearance. He was perfect. He slipped out of his pants, climbing in bed with you. He pulled you into his arms, just enjoying the intimacy for a moment. Eventually, you were both stripped naked and tangled in each others limbs. As heated as the journey to your room was, sex was no longer the most pressing thought in your heads. You found yourself lost in chatter, laughing and giggling at stories you’d been longing to tell each other for the last year. In between, there were stolen kisses; some short, and others laced with neediness. No sexual gratification would compare to the emotional connection you started to restore.

Eventually, he found himself laying between your legs, mouth exploring the spots on your neck he was aching to reunite with. Every so often, his teeth or tongue would grace over a sensitive area, pushing a breathy moan from your lips. The sounds were heavenly, ones he thought he’d never get the chance to hear again. “I want you, Josh.” You sighed, finally growing restless after the hours of relentless teasing.

“Tell me what you want, gorgeous.” He hummed against your collarbone.

“You. I don’t care, anything, please.” You sighed, not caring about the desperation. You felt him smile against you, clearly pleased with the state you were in.

“You want me to touch you?” He asked, fingers ghosting over your rib cage, sending a jolt of electricity through.

“Please,” he brought the pad of his thumb to your nipple, brushing it over you. He watched as you drew in a shaky breath. If there was one thing you knew about Josh, it was that he loved viewing sex as a marathon. If you were to let him, he’d go all night, dragging it out as much as possible. Tonight, you couldn’t take it. He could tell how you were feeling without you saying it aloud, not finding it in himself to push you any further. He let his hand drift downwards, shifting his weight onto one side so he had better access to you. He slipped his fingers between your legs, running them through you and getting a feel for your arousal. Your back arched at the feeling, it was familiar yet almost foreign.

“All of this for me, pretty girl?” He asked, running your wetness up to your clit. He slowly rubbed circles, just light enough to allow you to adjust to the feeling. You muttered a curse under your breath, almost having forgotten how acquainted he was with your body. His fingers kept a steady pace, gradually applying more pressure as he continued on. His eyes remained on your face, wishing to engrave your expression into every part of his brain so he could never forget it.

As his hand explored you, his lips did, too. His mouth drifted across your exposed stomach, trailing kisses all over the skin. Eventually, he worked his way up to your breasts, pulling a hardened nipple into his mouth, grazing his teeth and tongue over it, begging for a reaction. When he heard a whine fall from your lips, he closed his eyes in satisfaction. He slipped his finger down towards your entrance, moving his thumb to your clit in place. He pushed his middle and ring finger inside you, starting at an agonizingly slow pace. His thumb brushed over your clit with every pump of his fingers. The sensation was much more intense than you remembered it, maybe because of the depravity of the feeling, or because you missed him so much.

The sex was slow, much slower than it used to be. Both of you wanted to savour the experience as much as you could. But the praise, the words, even the way he worshiped you like you were the most beautiful thing to walk the earth was all the same. Neither of you allowed any of the negativity to change the way you appreciated each other. You’d been with plenty of people before Josh, but never any who loved you in the way he did. Every touch was sacred, filled with love and tenderness, even if the act wasn’t supposed to feel that way. As stupid as you felt about waiting so long for him, you were thankful you did. Nobody could make you feel the way he did. The wait just resulted in the usual pleasure being escalated by a thousand.

“Does that feel good, mama?” He asked, finally pausing his assault on your breasts. He looked up to you, eyelids heavy and lust clouding his pupils.

“So good, Josh.” You sighed, looking down to meet his gaze. He gave you a lazy smile, content at the confirmation.

“Did you miss me?” He questioned, his tone dropping slightly. He curled his fingers upward with the next movement, causing a gasp to fall from you. “Hmm?” He hummed, still waiting for you to answer.

“Missed you so much.” You admitted, eyelids fluttered closed at the pleasure he was causing.

“Think she missed me, too.” He muttered, eyes flowing down towards his hand working into your cunt. You swallowed hard at the words, taken off guard by the cockiness but knowing he was speaking truth. His jaw clenched, clearly pleased with the sight. He was good at putting his pleasure aside to ensure yours, but you knew him well enough to recognize what his expression meant. He’d been depraved of this, too, and the view was driving him insane. “Right?” He asked for clarification, his chest rising at his deep inhale.

“Yeah,” you whispered, a pressure beginning to build in your belly.

“She knows she belongs to me.” He hummed. Your face flushed at the statement, unsure where the possessiveness was coming from. That was something quite new; before, he always acted as though the access to your body was a gift. The simple statement dripped with entitlement, but you didn’t mind. He was right. No matter how much distance between you, or how much time passed, you were his. You didn’t mind the claim in the slightest. In fact, you enjoyed it.

“Fuck, Josh,” you let your head fall back on the pillows, the knot in your stomach tightening more with every second that passed.

“Yeah?” He beamed, knowing exactly what the warning was for. “Look at me, mama. Wanna see that pretty face while you cum.” He pleaded. You were in no state to deny him the request, eyes falling back on him. He was watching you, desperate to see your expression. His movements remained steady, gently coaxing the orgasm from you. Your mouth fell open slightly, a sharp inhale sounding as the pressure peaked and sent you into a down-spiral. You managed his name through the intense wave of moans, eyes squeezed shut and all of your muscles tensed. He rode you through it, whispering notes of encouragement as you were clenched around his hand.

When you relaxed against him, he let out a long breath. The tail end dissolved into a groan, absolutely floored at the sight he had just experienced. “Was that good, baby?” He asked, slowly pulling his fingers from you. You sighed at the loss of contact, still yearning for more.

“So, so good, Josh.” You didn’t mind fuelling his ego, because it was well deserved. At first, you wanted to blame the quickness of your orgasm on the length of time it had been since you had one. Deep down, you knew it wasn’t true. Josh had the ability to make you cum simply by looking at you with enough intent. It had everything to do with him, and you knew nobody else could ever affect you in the same way.

“Can’t believe you had nobody to take care of you for so long,” he let out a disapproving tsk, slowly sinking down further on the bed. “All of those New York boys really missed out.” His soft lips grazed over the inside of your thigh. “A woman like you deserves more than that.” His teeth sunk into the flesh, causing you to jump at the sudden sensation. “What was it, mama? Couldn’t find anyone to fuck you right?” Your jaw clenched at the profanity of his statement. You were well aware that he was only messing with you just for show, so you played into his game.

“Mhm,” you agreed. “Nobody could fuck me like you, Josh.” You told him, lowering your tone. The muscle in his jaw tensed at the confession.

“No?” He asked, lips dangerously close to your heat. “My poor baby.” He sympathized, his facial hair gently tickling the skin of your legs. “I’ll always treat you right, honey.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, agreeing with him.

“Y’know I’ll give you whatever you want, whenever you want it. Always fuck you like you just how you like it.” The teasing was torturous; you needed him more than you needed water. It wasn’t a desire, it was necessary for survival.

“I know you will, baby.” You breathed, your sultry tone quickly dissolving into whiny.

“That’s why you’ll always come home to me, right?” He asked, dipping his head even closer to your cunt. “You know who you belong to, beautiful.” You gave a nod of desperation. “Wanna hear you say it, mama.”

“You, Josh. I’m all yours. Only yours.” You promised. A smile graced his face.

“Sounds so pretty when you say it like that.” He was trying not to sound needy himself; his mouth was practically watering at the sight before him. He almost felt wrong teasing you in such a way, because he was certain he was more desperate for you than he’d ever been. “I’d treat you better than that. I’d fuck you every day if I could, just to make sure you know what you deserve. Just to make sure you were happy.” He explained, feeling his guilt resurface. You felt your heart ache at the statement, the words reminding you that as good as you felt, things weren’t the same as they used to be. He saw the emotion flash across your face, realizing how his statement may have come off in a context he didn’t intend. “I can, and I will, if you’ll let me.” He let down the act for a moment, fully letting you see into his heart.

“Yeah,” you managed to muster out. “I’d like that.” He couldn’t hold back the look of happiness that forced its way onto his face.

“Be mine again, baby. Promise I’ll make up for everything. I’ll never let you get away again.” He whispered, but he was pleading with you. There was no way he could walk away from you after this. It would kill him.

“Okay,” you agreed, no hesitation present. It wasn’t the alcohol, or the sex talking. You wanted him, and you were certain of that before you’d even spoken to him. Maybe everybody else was right, you thought. This wasn’t one of those things that you couldn’t walk away from. If you did, you’d be 80 years old and still wondering what it would be like to love him again. When it came to Josh, it was never over. Just a wrong turn that ultimately led you back to the same destination.

He let the thought settle in his soul; no more yearning for someone he wasn’t sure he would ever have again. The universe had granted him another chance, and he’d be damned if he took it for granted a second time. You were his again, and he was yours, as if that was ever untrue in the first place. He wasted no more time, slipping his arms under your thighs and pulling you down on his mouth. He let his tongue run through you, savouring the feeling and moaning against you. He was eating you as if he was a starved man offered his first meal in weeks. In his eyes, he was. Being depraved of the home he’d found between your legs was a terrible feeling, and he never wanted to feel it again.

You let a moan out, your hands snaking down to his hair. You noticed the lack of it on the sides, understanding that it would be hard to get used to. Instead of focusing on the difference, you tangled your fingers in the hair still atop his head, losing yourself to the familiarity of his tongue. You couldn’t help but admire him through the waves of pleasure, the way he got enjoyment out of making you feel good, how pretty he looked with his head nestled between your thighs. You noticed the way his hips would grind into the mattress, just enough to give him a bit of relief, or the way he was completely lost in you, not having a notice for anything other that what was in front of him. You had no doubt he would stay there forever, if you let him.

He pulled back for a moment, just to catch another look of your face. “Taste so good, baby. Even better than I remember.” He slipped his thumb in place of his tongue, just so he didn’t lose the progress he was making. “Missed having you like this. Thought about it every fucking night.”

“I thought about it too, all of the time.” You sighed, mesmerized by the emotion he adorned in his eyes. He returned his other fingers to you, pumping them in time with his thumb for a moment. He studied you for a while before he returned to work with his mouth. The combined feeling of him pumping his fingers into you, and his tongue focused on your clit was overwhelming.

You were nearing a second orgasm, desperate for him to keep going. He could sense it in your breathing, the tugs at his hair, and the profanities you were expelling every so often. He remained steady, curling his fingers every so often in attempt to find the spot inside you he knew so well. He hit a particularly sensitive spot, causing your hips to buck forward. He didn’t have to say it aloud for you to know he enjoyed it; a groan produced from deep in his chest, his fingers attempting to get the same reaction from you again. You closed your eyes, unable to focus on anything other than the knot tightening in your belly.

“Josh,” you breathed, a verbal warning that you were close. He hummed against you, encouraging you. Your head fell back, blissfully unaware of anything other than the feeling of his tongue. Soon after, you were coming undone again, crying his name and quickly dissolving into a mess. He coaxed you through it, more dedicated to making you feel good rather than getting the satisfaction of seeing your face.

When you came down, he didn’t ease up; his tongue was still determined, fingers never slowing. Even in the burning oversensitivity, you couldn’t help but still enjoy the moment. You were certain that after 18 long months, he could cause you nothing but physical pain and you’d still enjoy it, just because he was the one doing it. Part of you wished he never had to stop, because you never wanted to come down from the high of the intimacy. The overpowering sensation was driving you insane, the previous orgasm never really having a chance to dissipate before the next began to bloom. The noises you were making were filthy, pornographic, almost. Josh was almost praying the walls were thinner than they appeared, cocky enough to know how good he was making you feel and egotistical enough to want everyone to know it.

When your third orgasm was begging you to let go, you couldn’t even get the words out to warn him. Your knuckles were white against the hold on his hair, all of your muscles rigid and lungs aching for a full breath. It took little time for you to reach your peak, panting heavily and glistening with a thin layer of sweat. This time, he slowed his movements as your body relaxed. He removed his tongue first, followed by his fingers once he knew you were back to earth. “There you go, mama.” He sighed. His lips ghosted over your torso as he inched his way up your body. “That’s all you needed, hmm?” He hummed, sucking a few marks into your collarbone. “Someone to take care of you,” his head nuzzled back into the crook of your neck, mouth exploring the area once again. “Someone who knows how to make you feel good?” His moustache tickled the sensitive skin, causing a tired giggle to fall from you. You could feel him smile against you in response to the sound.

“I want you, Josh.” You said. As fantastic as he was making you feel, your patience was non-existent. It had been too long since you’d had him, and you didn’t feel willing to wait any longer. He lifted his head from your neck, eyes scanning your face for a moment. His lips upturned into a smirk, likely feeling similar.

“You want me?” He whispered, already shifting between your legs for a better position. You gave him a nod. “How bad, beautiful?”

“So bad, baby. It’s been so long.” You admitted, not willing to challenge him in the slightest. His fingers gently grazed over your hips, a moment of innocent love before such a dirty act. He pulled you towards him, grabbing your legs and guiding them over his shoulders. The excitement brewing in your stomach was barely containable.

“Been so good for me, mama. Won’t make you wait any longer.” He promised. You felt his hand leave you, moving down to guide himself towards your entrance. Without another word, he pushed himself inside you. You both let out a sigh of relief, finally feeling at peace with each other. The battle of experiencing so much pent up love with nowhere to channel it had come to an end; the solution to the issue being clear the whole time, but only now was it truly acknowledged. You needed each other, and no distance would change that. There was no separation or heartbreak big enough to rid yourselves of the connection you had. You both knew that before the night dissolved into the current situation, but it was only solidified further once you both felt what it was like to be reunited in such a way. There was no way you could walk away from each other again.

His hips moved slowly, the only motive being the need to feel the closeness. The movements were barely stimulating, but more than pleasurable to you both. “God, y/n.” He hissed, sucking in a long breath through his teeth. He pulled you closer to him by your thighs, thrusting as he did so and causing a gasp from you. “Feel so fucking good.” He picked up the pace, realizing he was only torturing you both. The memory of him inside you was nothing in comparison to the real thing. The angle allowed the tip of his cock to brush your cervix, sending a jolt of electricity through you each time. “Wish I could have you like this forever.”

“Me, too.” You groaned, your hand reaching out in desperation for his. He met your gesture, pulling your hand into his and resting them on your thigh. His eyes were closed, intently focusing on his movements, making sure he kept a steady rhythm. The low light of the lamp was casted over his face, allowing you to really admire his beauty. The slight furrow of his eyebrows, the tension in his jaw as he fucked into you, his lips that always looked so soft and inviting. He was a masterpiece, and you felt lucky to even be able to experience him in such a way. His free hand found your breast, at first just a gentle acknowledgment, but then he took your nipple between his fingers and applied a bit of pressure. The shock lit up your face, causing him to give you a small smirk. As much as he loved to please you, he loved to be an asshole, too.

It was all in the nature of the relationship; the time that passed didn’t change the dynamic. You both still seemed to be on the same wavelength, remembering what the other liked, incorporating small humorous expressions and actions to lighten the intensity. You were grateful that he was still so familiar to you. It took the nervousness away, and made sex feel lighthearted and carefree. There was never a worry of embarrassment or fear of judgement. He was your best friend, still, after everything, and he was making sure you knew that. The same goofy, sweet boy from the beginning.

You could tell he was growing bored with the position. As much as he loved the feeling, you knew what he wanted, and you were fully willing to give it to him. “Lay down,” you told him. His eyes connected with yours, an unspoken question of certainty. You gave a nod, and he didn’t wasn’t any time pulling out of you. He collapsed onto the bed beside you, turning towards you and practically pulling you on top of him. He had a grin plastered across his face, cheeks a bit rosy and eyelids heavy.

“You know me so well.” He said softly, almost as if he were talking to himself.

“You act like you’re the only one who enjoys this position.” You rolled your eyes.

“I know you do, but I really like it.” His excitement was clear in his face. You couldn’t help but smile, too.

“Yeah, ‘cause you don’t have to do any work.” You joked, securing your legs on either side of him. You lifted yourself up, reaching down to guide him back into you.

“No, ‘cause you look so pretty on top of me.” He answered, tone of voice matching yours. His hands found your hips, slowly bringing you down on him. “I’d be happy to do the work as long as I get to see you like this.” You couldn’t find the words to reply, already lost in the new position, revelling in the angle and depth he was reaching inside you. You began to roll your hips on him, slowly catching up to speed. “Oh, and because I can do this, now.” He reached around, pinching your ass between his index finger and his thumb. Your eyes widened, giving him a look of bewilderment. He gave a chuckle, keeping his hand there and gently running his thumb over the spot he’d just hurt.

“Not being very nice to someone who’s trying to get you off,” you grumbled. He erupted into a real laugh, giving his head a small shake.

“Don’t have to try very hard, mama. Never did.” He joked, but there was a hint of truth to the statement. “But, I suppose I could be a little nicer. Since you’re being so good to me.” He brought his free hand up to your cheek, brushing the hair from your face. You leaned into his palm, closing your eyes in content. You were still moving your hips, just enough to satisfy the craving while he joked with you. It felt so natural, so familiar. It felt like home.

“You’ll be nice for a while, then you’ll do something to piss me off again. It’s just what you do.” You giggled, remembering his constant antics to get on your nerves. It was intolerable by times, but always in the most loving and sincere way possible.

“You love me.” He stated, in a completely relaxed, natural way. Your breath caught in your throat at the word, surprised that it made an appearance again so soon. He said it as if he’d never stopped saying it in the first place. He finally noticed what he said, expression losing its humour almost instantly. “I hope you do, at least.” He mumbled.

“I do,” you whispered, nodding your head. “I really do.” You were overcome with emotion, swallowing back the tears begging to be shed at the statement. The high intensity of the emotions in the room were unimaginable, and they hadn’t subsided all night. A small smile graced his lips as a laugh filled with relief sounded from him.

“God, it’s been so long since I’ve heard you say that.” He guided your head down, connecting your mouths in a gesture of gratitude. “Too long.” He mumbled against your lips. You pulled back just enough to speak clearly.

“I’ll say it again, if you really want me to.” You grinned.

“Please, baby.” He begged, wanting to hear the actual words.

“I love you,” you breathed, happy to finally be able to tell him again.

“I love you.” He replied, bringing you into another kiss, much more desperate than the last. As he did so, he suddenly seemed to remember where you were and what you were in the middle of. Without breaking away from you, he thrusted upwards with force. The impact caused you to let a moan slip into his mouth, only fuelling him further. You raised your hips slightly, allowing him to move with ease. He took it as an invitation, repeating his earlier action and continuing with a steady pace.

You parted with him, catching your breath. You straightened up, placing a hand on his chest to support your balance as he fucked you. You let out a slur of curses, indirect praise for the work he was doing. You moved your hips in time with his, greedy for more. He dropped his hands back to your waist, fingers gripping at the flesh like he’d gone feral. As much as you liked to tease him, you liked the position just as much as he did. There was something that drove you crazy about him under you, the freedom of his hands in which he used expertly. Plus, the pleasure he got from it fuelled yours, too. You were certain you could spend the rest of your life doing nothing but pleasing him and be happy while doing it.

His hips stuttered and he let out a low groan, the telltale sign he was getting close. It had been a long time for both of you, the stamina barely existing on either part. He held you still, wordlessly telling you to slow down. You fought against the hold, not caring if he came or not. In fact, you were hoping he would. He’d been generous in the orgasm department with you, and you were eager to do the same for him. “Slow down, mama.” He warned.

“It’s okay,” you assured him.

“Don’t want it to be over yet.” He admitted, catching your gaze.

“S’okay, baby.” You repeated. “I have this room all weekend.” He eyed you with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, like he was already thinking about the luxury of fucking you again. Like he was making a list of how many places around the room he could have you in. In a split-second decision, his fingers shot to your clit, finding it without any issue.

“Gotta cum with me, then. You know the rules.” He ordered. You have a nod, a hum of pleasure sounding straight from your chest. He stopped your movements, allowing him to set the pace and ensuring his hand didn’t slip from you, either. You locked your hips in place, fully allowing him to do as he pleased with you.

You both knew it wouldn’t take long; the joys of knowing each other so well meant that you knew exactly what to do. He kept his movement steady and consistent, uttering small praise as you allowed him to work at you. The noises falling from your lips graced his ears and settled deep in his chest, begging him to never forget them. “Look at me,” he wanted to sound authoritative, but he was nowhere close to it. Still, you obliged. You caught his eyes, finding yourself lost in them as soon as you did. “Come on, mama. Cum for me.” He begged, both of you knowing he couldn’t last much longer. The intensity grew with each second that passed, your head spinning with pleasure.

“M’gonna,” you moaned, promising to fulfill his request. He let out a groan, the end dissolving into a bit of a growl. The sound alone seemed to be enough to do it for you. “Fuck!” You exclaimed, your climax hitting you hard. You kept a steady hold on his chest, your other hand reaching for his arm for support. He didn’t have the ability to coax you through it; his cock twitched inside you, the sight of you coming undone sending him over the edge. He held you down on him as he spilled his release into you.

“Fuck, y/n,” he groaned, fingers digging into your hips with a promise of lasting bruises. When he came back down from the high, you were both breathless and seeing stars. He released his grip on you, guiding you down to lay on him. “My beautiful girl,” he sighed, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I missed you so much.” You confessed, focusing on the drum of his heartbeat against his chest.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” He admitted, letting his fingers run through your hair. He sounded tired, enveloped in comfort and peace. “I thought about you every day. You never left my mind.”

“I’m sorry I left, Josh. I didn’t want to leave you. Especially like that.”

“I know, mama. I’m sorry for trying to make you stay. It wasn’t fair. I should have supported you no matter what.” He gently scratched your head. You closed your eyes, fully immersed in the intimacy. “I promise I’ll never do anything like that again. I was lucky enough to get a second chance, and I want to do it right, this time.”

“Me, too.” You agreed. “I never want to lose you again. It was a horrible year without you. Yeah, I did great stuff, made a name for myself, but it didn’t really mean a whole lot without someone to share the excitement with. Everybody was talking about me, but I had nobody to talk to. It was lonely without my best friend.”

“I know what you mean. Great things happened, I’m proud of what we accomplished, but I just wanted to be able to come home and tell you all about it. Every time I realized I couldn’t, it all just lost its shine.” You smiled at the statement, thinking he worded it perfectly. Life was fine without Josh, survivable in the least, but he made everything shine. He gave everything just a little bit more novelty. It was dull without him. Lacklustre, even. “Was it too soon to say I love you again?” He asked, finally airing out his anxiety.

“I think I was shocked, hearing it again after so long, but I don’t think it was wrong to say it. We never really stopped being in love; all of it was still there, it just had nowhere to go. If anything, I’m happy you still feel that way, too. Made me feel less stupid.” He didn’t respond, but you could practically feel him smiling. “You never moved out of the apartment?” You remembered he had said it earlier, but you wanted to clarify that you’d heard him right.

“No. Never changed it, either. There’s still shampoo bottles in the shower that belong to you, clothes in the closet, our pictures on the wall. I think I always hoped you’d come back home. Wanted you to know it was still yours, if you ever did.” Your heart ached at his words. You’d both been so stupid, suffering for so long that you both forced yourself to believe you’d forgotten about each other. “And it is. I mean, still yours, if you ever want to come back.” His free hand drifted over your back, fingertips gently ticking the exposed skin. “I know you have a career in New York, and I understand if you can’t, or you don’t want to. If you ever do want to, or change your mind, I’d be more than happy.”

“Thank you,” you wanted to express it in the most sincere way possible. The knowledge that he still wanted you there with him was extremely comforting. You didn’t mind the idea, either.

“But, for now, I’m happy to fly out and see you whenever I can. I’ll call every night, just like I should have from the beginning. I’ll never let you think I forgot about you ever again, or that I don’t believe in you, because neither of those are true.” You placed a kiss to his chest, finally feeling ready to tell him the news. You would have, anyway, but knowing he was willing to make it work even if you lived so far away made it impossible not to tell him.

“Actually, I was wondering if you could give me my key back.” You grinned. His lax stature immediately changed, pulling back just so he could look to see if you were joking. “Now that the line is releasing, and the outlet store is opening here, I’m gonna be in Nashville for a while. On and off, sometimes, but here for the foreseeable future, at least.” The look on his face made it seem like you’d just told him he won the lottery. “I was kind of dreading staying in a hotel, or having to hunt for another lonely apartment.”

“Are you serious?” He asked, still catching up to speed.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “I’d really like to come home, Josh. If that’s what you want, of course.” You felt that the need to go through the motions of dating again were quite silly, especially since you’d spent most of your adult life with him. The brief pause when you were gone didn’t really mean too much. You’d both changed, but clearly not enough to become anything close to strangers.

“Of course I do!” He wrapped you up in a hug, holding you like he’d never get the chance to, again. You both dissolved into a fit of giggles, excited at the idea of building a life together, again.

“I know you have to tour, and that’s okay. I’ll have to be in New York sometimes, too. I can come visit you, wherever you are. If you get some free time, you can come see me, or we can meet in the middle. I don’t care where that is, because if I’m with you, I’m home.” If it was possible to hold you tighter, he did just that. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he mumbled, words muffled due to his face being buried in your hair. “So much, mama.”

“I do think we should probably get cleaned up, though.” You eased into the idea, realizing the state you were both still in.

“A shower?” He asked, hidden implications written all over the question.

“Sure,” you laughed, sitting upright. “But we should do it, like now.”

You both made your way into the bathroom, getting in the shower and cleaning yourselves off. The night turned into the early hours of the morning, but sleep refused to come to either of you. You were too caught up in the stories, the jokes, and the touches, and the sex to care about anything else. More than anything, you were both just content finally being back in each others company. The sunrise barely put a damper on your night of reunion, because you were too immersed in each other to notice it. Too immersed in the overwhelming feeling of finally being at home after an unexplainably long, tiresome day.

#greta van fleet #danny gvf #gvf #jake kiszka #sam gvf #danny wagner #jake gvf #josh gvf #sam kiszka #gvf fic #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet angst #greta van fleet fluff #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fanfic #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka #josh kiszka angst #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut #gvf imagine #gvf x reader #josh kiszka x reader #gvf fluff #greta van fleet fic #fanfic #my writing #mine #builtbybrokenbells #writing

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝑴𝒆

pairing: javi gutierrez x fem!reader

genre: smut, romance, minors dni

word count: 2.9k

summary: living in a small town has its perks, watching a movie completely by yourself in the cinema being one of them. however, this time, you meet a charming stranger willing to comfort you during a horror movie.

warnings: strangers to lovers, very explicit blowjob, public blowjob, soft dirty talk, praise kink, horror movie,brief male masturbation feat. spitting, I say public but no one is really there

Living in a small town can be boring in many ways. There aren’t enough places to visit, you risk seeing someone familiar every time you go out but…it also has its perks too. One of your favorite things to do is to go to your favorite mall. You’ve been going there since you were a kid, it was a constant, comforting presence in your life and it might be dramatic to say, but you had a connection with it. It’s an open mall, which means there’s alot of sunlight and crisp air going around. 

But the best part of it, by far, is the movie theaters. 

It’s almost always empty, sometimes it’s just you in the theater, or a couple more people. It was like a private screening and you loved that. You can’t imagine another place on earth where you could go into a cinema only to view an entire movie by yourself as if you were at home. It’s the best. 

You step into the lobby of the theater, greeted by the familiar sight of movie posters and ticket booths. The air conditioning hits you immediately, providing a refreshing break from the heat of the day outside. 

The smell of fresh popcorn wafts through the air, making your mouth water. You take a moment to peruse the concession stand, eyeing the candy, soda, and various snacks on offer. However, you’re not really feeling up for snacks today so you head to buy your ticket. It’s for a horror film and it’s from one of your favorite directors. You’re feeling giddy, excitement rolling in your stomach. As always, you don’t need to pick a seat because there’s only one other person that’s going to be in there with you, so you can sit wherever you want to. 

After sitting in the lobby for a little while, scrolling through your phone, the kind man you often see (and you presume runs the place) approaches you and says you can head inside now. Thanking him, you do exactly that. 

A chill settles across your skin. In typical fashion, you were fooled by the heat and forgot to bring a jacket for this exact occasion. You shrug it off, eyeing the seats as you step in. This is one of the smaller theaters, which you find even better because it’s cozier. Just as you were told, there was only one other person inside. A man. Your eyes lock for a brief moment. You swear your steps slow, he has kind brown eyes, long lashes that touch his cheek with his every blink. He smiles at you and you find yourself smiling back. In that brief moment, your eyes linger over his broad chest. 

Embarrassed, you quickly avert your gaze and take a seat. Coincidentally you’re sitting in the aisle right behind him, he’s not directly in front of you but across, his gaze fixated on the blank screen. You drop your bag to the side of you, another thing you love about this particular cinema, they have “couple” seats so you basically have a couch you can lounge about for the next two hours.

There’s a minute of silence before the lights go out and the soft glow of the projector fills the room. 

You smile and settle in. You hug yourself, ignoring the gooseflesh of your skin. Right as the commercials begin, you glance at the handsome stranger one last time. Some childish part of you wants to lean over and touch the honey-traced brown locks. They just look so soft. 

You take a sharp breathe. Thank god this isn’t the type of horror movie that has needless sex scenes in it. 

You find yourself getting increasingly sucked into the movie. The sense of unease and foreboding that permeates the film is palpable, and you can feel your heart racing in your chest. Your nails biting into your cold and clammy palms. There are scenes of family dysfunction and grief, of supernatural occurrences that defy explanation. The cinematography is hauntingly beautiful, with shots of the sprawling family home and the surrounding woods that give you chills. 

At one point, a particularly gruesome scene plays out on screen, and you let out a gasp of horror. The man in front of you turns around. Thinking that he must be annoyed, your lips move to form an apology but then you notice the look of concern on his face. Your lips form a kind smile instead, and lifting your hand, you whisper an apology. 

Then it happens again—fuck this movie was really going to make you see nightmares tonight—and he turns around, again. Before you can say anything, he beats you to it. 

“If you're scared, I would be happy to keep you company.” 

You're momentarily taken aback by the offer. Your lips part, a soft noise echoing from the back of your throat. He’s staring at you with amusement now, the corner of his lips twitching. You swallow, wet your bottom lip. You’re about to give him an intelligent answer. 

And just like that the intermission starts, the movie comes to a sudden halt, and soft lights flood the room, hurting your eyes. 

Oh god, he can see your face now—shit. 

You look away and wave your hand in dismissal, “Ah, thank you but that’s okay. I’ll try to keep quiet. I usually don’t get this riled up.” 

He smiles. You sweat that you melt into the cushiony seats at the sight of it. You swallow thickly around the know that formed in your throat. His eyes soften, his smile nothing but kind. 

“I am quite scared too,” he informs. He has a soft baritone, a melodic lilt to his voice. “It is embarrassing to admit.” 

Your eyes flit across his face, then drops to his neck. His sun-kissed skin looks delectable. Heat settles at the end of your spine, a shudder coursing through your veins. He’s too kind to be from here, so he’s likely a tourist. 

You push out your bottom lip and then down to your lap where your fidgeting hands rest. 

“Well…if you’re scared…you can come and sit with me.” 

Your lips draw a tight line as you lift your gaze and meet his eyes. You’re pathetic. Even if he was scared, It’s obvious he was making an excuse on your behalf so you won’t be embarrassed. 

“Thank you, princesa. I am forever in your gratitude.” 

You’re highly aware that he’s humoring you. But it’s hard to care about that when he stands up. You watch as he walks down the aisle, his figure silhouetted against the light from the lobby. He’s much broader and taller than you expected him to be. He reaches your row and with heated cheeks, you quickly pick up your bag to make room for him. The cushions dip with his weight and your mouth floods with saliva. 

You’re not sure you can focus on the rest of the movie like this. 

“I am Javi by the way,” he says, voice low. He extends a hand as you introduce yourself, the inside of his palm is soft and warm and you’d be lying if you didn’t say that you’re fingers lingered. 

For the rest of the film, you're acutely aware of Javi's presence next to you. Every time you jump or gasp, he leans in closer, as if to shield you from the movie itself. You find it rather charming. Javi's arm brushes against yours, you feel a spark of electricity shoot through your body. You try to ignore it and focus on the movie, but you can't help stealing glances at him from the corner of your eye.

Before you know it, he has an arm around your shoulder, fingers feather-light against your bare arm. A loud noise echoes and your breath hitches. Upon hearing you, Javi pulls you closer. 

Javi whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Don't worry, I've got you." 

Normally, you wouldn’t dare to get this close to a stranger—and that was what he is; a stranger—but it’s really hard to see him that way when his presence is like a pillar. And it feels rather good to be held during a horror film. Most of your friends don’t enjoy them so you often see them alone, coming out of them needing a hug. 

With another jarring scene being reflected on the big screen, you find yourself seeking solace in the crook of his neck, your nose pressed firm against the thick column. His arm tightens around your tense frame. You might be imagining it, but you think he’s shushing you. It’s not in a cruel way. It’s soft and comforting. His hand moves up and down your arm, spreading warmth along your skin. You jump again when a fleshy sound echoes. This time your lips touch the skin. You feel his pulse and his scent floods your nostrils; a mixture of bergamot and cinnamon— and something so undeniably him. 

“Are you alright?” he asks and you nod, your lips brushing along and following the ridges of a vein that lingers underneath. He’s so warm. So secure. You’re melting against him, forgetting completely that you just met this man and that you’re in the theatre. 

The kiss happens unexpectedly. You have no idea where it comes from, but your lips press into his skin. He feels so soft under the plush of his lips. Javi doesn’t say anything but his body stiffens. A sudden burst of embarrassment warms your cheeks and you start to pull away, only for him to hold you there, his hand coming up to gently cradle your cheek and a part of your neck. 

“It is okay,” he whispers as if someone might hear. “Your lips are very soft. It feels very soothing.” 

You continue to kiss him. Your lips dusting over his neck as you inhale him, engraving him to memory. He shudders. And with a sudden boldness, you lick a stripe down and gently nip the sensitive flesh. He jumps a little, his hand moving to your scalp to softly tug on your hair. The sounds and moving pictures fade into the background. All you can focus on is the heat growing between your legs and the beat of his heart under your tongue. 

Your hand moves to the front of his pants, you cup his length through the fabric and slowly stroke him. 

“Can I?” you ask. 

Your gaze lifts when you hear the whimper that echoes from the back of his throat. Shadows dance along his face, eyes sockets looking deeper than they were. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip and he swallows with a nod. A wolfish grin spreads across your face as you sink down to your knees. He gets comfortable, spreading his legs and allowing you to nestle between his thick thighs. In all honesty, a horror movie doesn’t make for the most romantic backdrop, however, the sight of him cheating his hand down his pants and grabbing himself makes up for it. 

Your breathing short paced and frantic, you help him out of his pants along with his boxers. His cock bobs heavily between his legs, precum smearing against the fabric of his shirt. With shaky hands, Javi unbuttons his polo, only to reveal that his white top underneath has ridden up a little, exposing the swell of his stomach and the soft curls that trail down his belly button. He’s definitely thicker than you imagined. Slowly, you wrap your fingers around the base and give him a firm stroke. A moan that’s a mixture between pain and pleasure hits the back of his teeth. 

“Hermosa,” he says, voice barely audible over the movie. “Let me help you a bit.” 

You draw your brows together, not quite sure what he meant by that. Javi doesn’t give you a moment to put the pieces together. Your eyes still glued to his cock, he spits in his hand and coats himself. You hold your breath and your lungs burn. Without much thought your own hand unbuttoned your jeans, sneaking a hand under the waistband, you stroke between your clothed folds. You’re soaked for him already. 

Javi touches himself gently, his cock glistening under the changing lights of the movie. His length twitches, growing bigger. Again, you swallow. You press two fingers to your aching clit. You gasp a little, which makes his eyes glimmer with amusement. 

“You like watching me?” he asks, palm swiping over the head. “Are you wet? Tell me.” 

Everything about this feels like a fever dream. You’re hald sure you fell asleep during the movie and dreaming all of this. But you’re not. Because when he lets go of his cock and gently cups the underside of your chin with wet fingers, your skin prickles so fast that it almost hurt. You exhale the breath you’ve been holding, your mouth dry like sandpaper. 

“Yes,” you whisper. “I’m soaked for you, Javi.” 

He hums with approval, “Good. That makes me very happy.” 

You’re not sure why hearing that makes your pussy throb, but it does. His smile never fades as he guides you to his cock, his hand sliding to the side of your face to cup your cheek. You part your lips and take the bulbous head of his cock into your mouth. With a pointed tongue, you taste him, and a groan trembles within his chest. You take a deep breath. Despite the hand on your cheek, he’s not forcing you to take more of him. Instead, he looks down at your patiently. His length throbbing on your tongue. Then, when you feel ready, you swallow more of him. Javi’s head falls back, his hips slightly raising off the seat. You purr at the way his blunt nails scratch your scalp

“Your mouth feels amazing,” he gasps and swallows. He follows the praise with a string of Spanish words that you hope have the same sentiment. 

Looking up between heavy lashes, you part from him and drag your wet lips down the side of his length. A thick vein meanders down, twitching with your every move. Your eyes flutter closed as you kiss the curve of his testicles. You flatten your tongue between them, feeling the weight while his cock lays heavy on your cheek. 

“F-Fuck,” he moans, gently grinding and dragging his length down. 

Pulling yourself back up, you take him between your lips once more.  

You're lost in the sensation, the taste of him on your tongue, the weight of him in your mouth. You savor the taste, the musky and slightly salty flavor making your mouth water. You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, teasing and licking him, feeling him pulse and throb against your lips. You take him deeper into your mouth. You love the way he responds to you, the way his nails bite into your skin and his breath catches in his throat.

With a wicked grin, you pull back and watch as he groans in frustration. "Tease," he breathes out, but there's a hint of amusement in his voice. You just smirk and run your tongue over your lips, giving him a show that is, hopefully, worth missing the movie. 

You use your tongue to trace the veins along his length, feeling the texture of him under your lips. Sliding your mouth up and down his shaft, you feel the heat building between your legs. You're getting wetter and wetter, your body responding to the sounds he’s making. You suck him deeper into your mouth, taking him all the way to the back of your throat, feeling him hit the back of it over and over.

Javi's hips start to move, thrusting gently into your mouth, his cock sliding over your tongue. You love the way he tastes, the way he feels in your mouth. He pulses over your tongue. His breathing growing more ragged and loud. As Javi's thrusts become more urgent, you know that he's close to the edge. You keep your lips wrapped tightly around him, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, urging him on. And then, with a strangled groan, he starts to spill into your mouth.

You feel the heat of him spreading across your tongue, the taste of him making you moan. Your jaw aches, but still, you keep your mouth wide open for him, swallowing over and over, until he’s dried out. With a gentle tug, Javi signals you to let go and pulls you up onto his lap. 

Before you know it, his lips are on yours, tasting himself on your tongue. 

You moan into his mouth as he slides a hand between your legs, feeling how wet you are for him. He chuckles softly, breaking the kiss to trail hot kisses down your neck and over your collarbone. Your head falls back, your body arching into his touch.

“You weren’t lying,” he says, hot breath fanning your neck. “You are wet for me.” 

You nod frantically, grinding to meet the sinful touch of his fingers. But just as you’re getting used to it, the lights slowly flicker on and when you turn, you notice the credits rolling. 

“Shit,” you hiss, rolling away from him and letting out a breath. Javi is by your side in an instant, the curve of his nose snug against the side of your face. You can’t help but smile. 

“We should buy a ticket for the next one,” he whispers, lips touching your cheek. “Since we missed the ending.”

a/n: So, this was actually inspired by an actual mall we have here. And honestly, the empty cinemas are probably the biggest thing I'm going to miss about this place. It's seriously the best. Sadly tho I never had a javi to comfort me fgbgfbg

Normally yesterday I wanted to see beau is afraid but apparently it's not out in our country yet and is going to be in theaters on june 9th--I'll probably end up watching it online. Anyway since I oculdn't watch beau is afraid, the movie that's actually playing in the background is Hereditary which didn't spook me the first night but def spooked me the second night. And the more I think about it the more I wish Javi si with me lmaodfvdf

Hope you guys enjoyed the cinema filth! sending you all love xx

#javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi gutierrez x f!reader #javi gutierrez x fem!reader #javi g x reader #javi g x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #tuwomt fanfic #tuwomt fanfiction

[wildemaven]

you, me & john mcclane | dave york

→ pairing: dave york x f!reader

→ word count: 4342

→ content warning: 18+ blog; friends/idiots to lovers, mentions of food and alcohol consumption, blind dates, mentions of bad dating history, miscommunication, soft dave, carol and dave are divorced but rockstar co-parents, fluff, pining, reader is wearing a dress, no descriptive features of reader, die hard is a Christmas movie, equalizer 2 au, I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything

→ notes: im really hoping this reads well because i struggled getting it finished. words became rough to work with. part of the holi-dave universe, but can be read as a holiday one shot too. big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for listening to me ramble about these two!!! somewhat beta'd, but not entirely.

→ masterlist / holi-dave masterlist

5 minutes late. Not that you’re keeping track. Although, it’s hard not to when the hostess keeps checking in to see if your date has arrived because they can’t hold your table all night, as you wait in the front lobby of the restaurant. Actively trying your best to convince her your date should be arriving any minute— nearing 10 minutes late now. 

You want to be annoyed. You want to call it a night, order your meal to-go, make the trek back home so you can slip back into something less revealing with more layers to fight off the almost freezing temperatures that you hadn’t accounted for when you got dressed earlier. Then once you’ve cocooned yourself in a blanket on the couch, you’ll call your friend and laugh at what a horrible matchmaker she is. 

Blind dates have never been your thing. Sure, you have heard plenty of success stories from friends and family about meeting their partners on a blind date, falling in love and getting that happily ever after kind of romance that you’ve always wanted. But that's never been the case for you. You weren’t convinced blind dating would ever produce any sort of cosmic connection like you’ve always heard about. You could barely get a second date from the ones you’ve been on. 

You decide to stay, give this whole thing a chance and see what happens— that is if he ever shows up. 

The frigid air billows in at the opening of the restaurant door. The cold biting at the exposed skin your dress isn’t covering, as you curl into yourself,  turning away to shield your body from the air that’s spilling through the entranceway. 

You scan the restaurant for what seems like the hundredth time now. All the couples and families seated comfortably as they enjoyed their warm meals. Probably discussing their upcoming holiday plans and their excitement for the new year ahead. 

Glancing down at your phone, it’s approaching 15 minutes late now. Sadness begins to settle in the pit of your stomach. Clearly this date isn’t happening tonight and it’s time to call it like it is, you got stood up— also not a first for you. You tuck your phone back into your purse and make your way over to let the hostess know that she can give your table away. 

“Oh my gosh! Dave?” Recognizing a familiar face standing next to the ‘wait to be seat sign’.  

“Hey— Hey! How are you?” He says with a smile, instantly moving in to give you a warm friendly hug. His cologne, all masculine and refreshing, wafts about as you lean into him— you envy whoever gets to revel in it tonight.  

“I’m good, thanks.” You tell him, as you step out of the way of the couple who just walked in to check in for their reservation. “What are you doing all the way over on this side of town? You picking up dinner for you and the girls? They would love their chicken tenders, super crispy. Molly would love the garlic aoli, it’s really good.”

“Uh, yeah— I mean no, sorry. The girls are with Carol tonight. Things ran late at the office and I’m supposed to be meeting someone for dinner.” He doesn’t mean to be rude, his attention focused on glancing at the seated guests. 

“Oh! Same. Except I’m not the one running late, my date is.” You glance back over your shoulder to the restaurant door, still no sign of your date. 

“Oh yeah? Maybe he’ll have a good excuse when he shows up.” Dave says, giving the restaurant one last look before setting back against the wall to give you his full attention. 

“I hope so, I’m starting to get hungry. Do you know what they look like? Maybe they’re somewhere else in the restaurant? I think there’s a back room through those doors.” You point towards the back of the restaurant. You’re in no rush to leave and start your sulking, so you might as well help a friend out. 

“No. It’s a blind date. Literally don’t know a single thing about them. Was just told to be here at 5pm.” The opening of the front door grabs his attention, another well dressed couple enters. He breathes out a sigh, head falling back against the wall, wishing he was anywhere else but here waiting to have dinner and forced conversation with a stranger. 

“Then how are you going to know if they’re here or not?” You laugh, situating yourself next to Dave on the wall. 

“The dress. That was the only thing I told to look out for— that she would be wearing a brown dress.” He says casually as he checks the watch on his left hand. 

A brown dress should be easy enough to spot. Taking a look around to see if you might have better luck spotting his brown-dress-wearing date. It’s nothing but bold reds, soft whites and classic black scattered through the room of guests— no brown dress in sight.

When the hostess glances over to you with her annoyed look, you decide to call it a night. Straightening up off the wall, you prepare to bid Dave a goodbye and make your way home to see what can be done to save the rest of your evening. You adjust your purse strap on your shoulder and start pulling at where the silky fabric of your dress had ridden up. Smoothing over the wrinkles to make sure it’s laying right. You freeze the second your brain registers exactly you’re wearing tonight. 

You look up to where Dave is still standing, focused on the ground, hands folded together in front of him. Suddenly becoming keenly aware of every detail about him. Ones that you hadn’t bothered to notice or pay attention to when you said hello only minutes ago. 

“Dave… you’re wearing a gray t-shirt and leather jacket.” Your voice barely above a whisper as you try to convey the realization that you’re starting to come to. 

“Yeah. Carol told me to wear it. Said it made me look less CIA or whatever.” He pulls open the  jacket front, revealing more of his shirt underneath, very much gray and definitely less CIA. He lets the jacket fall back into place, checking his watch for the second time. 

“Dave…” Attempting to get his attention again. Your eyes widen once all the dots have been fully connected. 

“Yeah?” Dave looks up from his watch, taking in your shocked expression.  

“Dave, I’m wearing the brown dress Carol picked out for me— I’m your date, Dave.” His eyes trail down your body— brown silk dress. The same brown silk dress that Carol said his date would be wearing when he arrived at the restaurant tonight. 

“Carol set us up?” You both say in unison. 

Staring at each other, you’re both completely dumbfounded at the thought of being set up. 

*

You met Carol by chance one morning 3 years ago at a local coffee shop you stop in everyday before work. It was unusually busy in the small coffee shop, which led to your orders being mixed up.

A 10 minute chat while you both waited for the kind baristas to remake your drinks quickly turned into a budding friendship between you. Purposefully arriving for coffee in the mornings so you could catch up on the latest news and tv shows you both loved before jetting off to work. 

Before you knew it you were meeting up for dinner  and drinks regularly, booking girls trips and attending concerts during the summer, but your favorite was joining Carol and her girls for movies and pampering.  

When you met Carol, she had already been divorced for almost 3 years. You admired how well she was juggling life and work as a single mom. She attributed it to having a great co-parenting relationship with her ex-husband. 

It was months later when Dave and you had officially met at a summer barbecue Carol and him were throwing for the girls and their friends. Inviting all the families to come enjoy the warm weather and grilled food. Carol had invited, forced, you come and hang out for a few hours. She insisted Molly and Alice had begged for you to be there, learning early on it was hard to tell either of them no. 

Carol had warned you Dave was quiet. Reserved felt like a better description. Because with you, he was anything but quiet. 

After helping Carol set out food and drinks, both of you retreated to a quiet spot on the porch as the chaos of tiny screaming girls took over the backyard. A comfortable silence between you once hello’s and brief pleasantries were shared.

Dave liked that about you, not forcing a conversation with someone just because you were in close proximity. He found that annoying with Carol’s other friends, always wanting to talk to him and never picking up on his lack of interest. He found you both had a similar aversion to groups of people you didn’t know. Watching the barbecue activities unfold from a distance and only making yourselves known when needed. 

Silence was soon exchanged for friendly banter and bouts of laughter. The space between you had become nonexistent as you both shared bits of your lives. Walls began to fall. A sudden eagerness to know more about the worlds you both existed in. A full fledged friendship formed in a matter of hours. 

From that day on, you were invited to all gatherings whether it took place at Carol’s or Dave’s homes. It became a song and dance of sorts. Always seeking each other out once things were in order. Finding a quiet place on the sidelines to avoid unwanted attention and small talk with literally everyone else. 

Unbeknownst to Dave and you, Carol had been keeping tabs on you both over the years. She wasn’t blind to the bond that had quickly developed between you two. The small touches to Dave’s arm when you were deep in conversation. When you would lose yourself in laughter and lean into him when he said something funny. The way Dave’s hand settled against your lower back when he introduced you to someone you hadn’t met before. Carol’s favorite was how, aside from her and the girls, you were able to make him genuinely smile like no one had done in a long time. 

It was after a recent failed date you had gone on, mentioning how hard it was to find someone decent enough to be in a relationship with, that Carol decided to take matters into her own hands. Conjuring up a plan to set you, her closest friend, and Dave, her ex-husband. A little nudge both of you seemed to need. 

*

“Look, Dave. I completely understand if you’re not into it and want to leave. No hard feelings at all. But we’re already here and have a table waiting for us to enjoy ourselves— which I’m sure the hostess would love for us to either sit at sooner than later. So, maybe we just do that. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?” You find it hard to read his blank expression, hoping it’s just pure shock and not that he is repulsed by the fact that he was set up with you. 

Are you even his type? Could he see something beyond just a friendship with you? Not things you had ever really worried about until just now. The thought of being rejected by not just someone, but by Dave had you distracted with embarrassment and worry. 

A smile begins to form on his face, the tension he’d been wearing when he first arrived no longer evident now that he won’t be having dinner with just anyone, but with you— something the two of you have never done alone before tonight. 

“I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be, now. Let’s go enjoy ourselves.” Sensing your internal panic he attempts to calm your nerves, reassuring you that he fully wants to be here. He takes a step closer to you, his hands curled around your shoulders, thumbs gently sweeping in over your bare skin in a back and forth motion. Worry melting from your face instantly. 

“Okay.” Your head tilts to the side as you smile sweetly at him, taking in the softness in his eyes. There’s a part of you that’s sure nothing will come of this evening, just two friends merely entertaining the fact that they were set up. But you’d be lying if you said there wasn't a small part of you that bears hope for the possibility of something flourishing from this evening. Whichever outcome, you’re relieved it is Dave. 

It’s not long until you’re seated at a small table for two, draped in white soft linens. The overhead lights set to a low muted level, allowing the tabletop candles to elevate the restaurant's evening ambiance. A musician sits at a small piano in the corner, playing a rendition of some holiday song, its nostalgic tune mingling with the hushed voices conversing about. 

Drinks and warm appetizers placed among the candles, festive florals and white porcelain tableware. Your meals were discussed and deliberated then placed with the waiter, leaving you both alone in a hushed nervous state. Neither of you quite sure what to say, unsure whether or not you address the elephant in the room— Carol’s secretive matchmaking tactics. 

“How are the girls?” You decide to stick to the safety of topics you both know. Hoping the ease of familiarity will lead to a more relaxed dialogue as the night passes. 

“Good. They’re good.” He says, in a very to the point Dave response. The waiter breaks the stagnant bubble surrounding you to refill his water, Dave giving a nod of gratitude before directing his attention back to you. 

“That’s good.” You quietly release a shaky breath.  

“How’s work?” Dave asks after taking a sip from his glass of aged whiskey. He sets it back on the table, before relaxing back into the chair. His arm propped up by the armrest, chin resting between his thumb and forefinger and his eyes focused on you. 

You briefly fixate on the flickering light that dances across his ambered irises, the glow of the candle’s flame reflecting in his eyes. A  golden brilliance that’s so vividly captivating, you can’t help but feel the warmth that gleams from them— how have you never noticed their allurement before? 

“Good. Great, actually. I got that promotion I was telling you about last month.” You don’t miss the way he immediately smiles at your answer. 

“I knew you would get it. Congrats!” Dave is proud of you. 

He had hoped he hadn’t overstepped when he encouraged you to apply for the position. Agonizing over it with him during a potluck dinner Carol had put together a month ago. You weren’t so convinced you had it in you, but Dave knew otherwise. He knew how hard it had been for you, working tirelessly to prove your worth in a male dominated field. But he also knew how well you held your own against the pressure of being scrutinized doing your job just because you were female. You just needed a little encouragement to make it happen, and Dave was more than happy to give it to you. 

“Thank you.” You say gratefully. He raises his glass up to you, grabbing for your white wine,  your glass meets his in a clinking celebration. 

A rich note strikes from the piano. The warm cadence of a new song catches your attention, drawing you to look over at where the musician's hands move effortlessly over the keys. After a few chorus plays through the second half, you redirect your attention back to the table. Your heart flutters with vibrancy at the way Dave is already looking at you. A reverent gaze that gives you the idea that his eyes have been drawn to you the entire time.

“What?” You ask. Your playful confusion has Dave chuckling, his fingers rub steadily over his bottom lip. 

“Nothing. Just—“ Dave knows the moment he says it, there’s no turning back. He’s been silently gauging your demeanor. Noting how you fiddle with the silverware when you’re talking. Or the way you look at him with a subdued intensity, not allowing yourself to truly express your feelings to him— or for him. 

With a deep breath and burning confidence, Dave’s willing to take a leap of faith to break the nervous tension that is strung tightly between you both.

“Just what?” Encouraging him to continue. Your fingers twisting your napkin in your lap, each revolution pulling it tighter and tighter in your grip. 

“Just admiring how beautiful you look right now. Something I never fully allowed myself to do before this evening.” He sees the way you react to his words. Relief or a validation of your own feelings. 

“How come?” You have a feeling you already know, but you want to hear him say it. 

“You’re Carol’s friend. I didn’t want to ever make you uncomfortable.” 

“You’ve never made me feel anything but comfortable, Dave.” It’s the truth. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so comfortable or safe with anyone. “But I get what you mean. With you being Carol’s ex-husband and that unspoken understanding of respecting her boundaries as her friend. I guess I’ve always been happy with being just your friend, too. But clearly she has a very strong opinion about us though.” 

You both laugh, knowing how determined Carol gets when she has a feeling about something. 

You both take a moment. No words needed or spoken. Neither of you are willing to wipe the absurd smiles off of your faces, while you stare at each other with an unbridled sense of fondness. The rest of dinner carries on with a better sense of purpose and understanding between you both. Endless conversation exchanged well into dessert. An eagerness to know more about each other before the evening’s end. 

*

It’s a velvety darkness that welcomes you the moment you both step out onto the sidewalk outside the restaurant. White tuffs of clouds drift through the sky, shrouding the moon and stars' usual intense glow for diffused lambency. 

The town’s streets are filled with an abundance of Christmas lights hung from store fronts and wrapped around tree bases, providing a perfect backdrop for an after dinner stroll. 

“Do you want to take a walk? Look at the lights before we call it a night?” Not really wanting to rush home any time soon, hoping to rack up more time with Dave as possible. 

“Sure. Here, take my jacket though, you’re gonna freeze out here.” He could tell you were trying to bravely endure the cold air nipping at your bare skin, but the goosebumps covering your arms and the slight shivering would have you freezing in no time. 

He doesn’t really give you an option, draping the leather jacket over your shoulders. The warmth is welcomed as you pull it tightly against you, grateful the moment a brisk breeze picks up and sweeps through the air. 

“Thank you.” You say as you both begin to walk in step together down the festively lit sidewalk. 

“Of course. Any time.” Dave says with a soft smile. His hands tucked securely into his jeans as he does his best to keep the chilly air at bay. 

A group of carolers offer a special serenade of Christmas classics, Dave and you both stopping to enjoy the merriment their harmonies add to the atmosphere. Dave tosses a few generous bills into their tip jar before you both continue your stroll. 

“What are your plans for Christmas?” You know him and Carol have a great system for the girls, always making sure they both get equal time with them. 

“I get to have the girls Christmas Eve this year. Well open gifts Christmas morning and do our tradition of pancakes for breakfast before Carol picks them up.” You love that he has a special tradition with the girls, there isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for them. 

“Carol said they’re asking for a dog this year?” Remembering how Carol had mentioned the girls had been begging for a dog for the better part of the year. So it was no surprise when you had heard they were forgoing Barbie’s and clothes in hopes to add a new furry companion to the family. 

“Yeah. They sat us down last week with a full blown presentation on why they think we should get them one.” 

“What was one of their reasons?” Knowing full well Molly and Alice probably had a decent list of all the reasons for getting one. 

“I think the top reason was that a dog would make me less grumpy.” His brows pinch together with his signature grumpy expression, the reason seemingly obvious at this moment. 

“Oh my god, Dave! They deserve a dog just for their efforts alone!” You bite back a snicker, loving how the girls didn’t hold back one bit. Although, you do find his grumpy expressions cute and charming. 

“Go on, laugh it up.” He shakes his head at your teasing. “What about you? Do you have any plans for Christmas?” Dave asks. His shoulder lightly bumps against you as you continue to walk in a close proximity to him. 

“If you call feasting on a rotisserie chicken straight out of the container while rewatching Die Hard an unhealthy amount of times, plans— then yes, I have plans.” You try to say with a straight face, but fall into a fit of laughter when you see the empathetic look on Dave’s face. “I’m kidding, mostly. I usually spend Christmas with my parents, but they’re out of town this year. So it’s just me— and John McClane.” 

“Hey.” Dave grabs your hand, pulling you to a stop with him. His eyes flitting over your face, his thumb brushing over the top of your hand he’s still holding. “Why don’t you come over once Carol gets the girls. I can make dinner and we watch Die Hard a healthy amount of times together, if you want?”

There’s a warmth that radiates through you at his offer. You feel giddy at the thought of spending Christmas, alone, with Dave. You don’t know quite yet what this thing that’s blooming between you is, but you trust that Dave will catch you— especially with how you’re thoroughly falling for him. 

“I’d love that— oh shit! Dave, come here!” Your hand now wrapped around his as you try to pull him from where he’s standing. His stubborn body is rooted in place, not moving as you continue to hold him while looking at something overhead that caught your attention. 

Dave catches your line of sight. Looking up to see a bundle of mistletoe hanging from the shop sight you both were standing under. He looks back to you, panic stricken by the sight of the green foliage dangling above. He steps closer to you, his lopsided grin slowly becoming a more pronounced smile. 

“Dave, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s just silly mistletoe.” 

“Isn’t there some sort of thing about bad luck if we don’t?” He slowly starts to lean in towards you, his eyes searching for any kind of hesitation in yours. 

“I don’t think that’s a thing.” You murmur. Your stomach flips with anticipation. 

“I guess there’s only one way to find out.” 

His lips are softer than you could ever have imagined. For even the briefest of kisses, it feels electric and warm. 

Dave pulls back slightly, his gaze oscillating between your lips and your eyes, taking in the blissed out look you have. Silent confirmation that you were craving it as much as he was. 

It’s dizzying passion when Dave’s lips crash into yours. One of his hands cradles the back of your head as the other snakes around your lower back, pulling you flush against him. Taking advantage of the way your mouth opens for him, his tongue moving over yours with a fiery fierceness.��

It feels right and perfect as you continue to revel in the way he deepens the kiss with each passing breath. His jacket falling from your shoulders to the ground as your hands clutch firmly at the front of Dave’s t-shirt. Your mind is a fuzzy mess of thoughts, swirling about, all focused on Dave and this monumental release. 

A whine escapes when Dave pulls away for the second time. His forehead resting on yours. Mouths hanging open, vapor puffs hitting the cold air as you both try to catch your breath. 

“Dave York. Great conversationalist, devoted father, devastatingly handsome and exceptional kisser— checks all my boxes.” You purr at him. 

“Hmm. The first two seem like a given. Handsome?” Asks as he continues to hold you close to him. 

“Mmhmm.”

“And what was it? Exceptional kisser?” Cradling the side of your face, recalling exactly how you described the kiss. 

“No complaints from me. At all.” Your teeth catching your bottom lip, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers tangling in his soft chestnut hair. 

“Not a single one?” His nose gently nudges against yours. 

“Well— maybe one. My only complaint would be if you never kissed me again.” You shake your head. The thought of never feeling his lips against yours again would be soul crushing. 

“I guess it’s a good thing I look forward to doing it again.” He assures you. 

“That so?” 

His fingers lightly grip your chin, bringing your lips closer to his. This time the kiss is slower, gentle, still conveying just as much affection and intentness as before. 

“I definitely could get used to more of that.” You say breathlessly. 

“Yeah? How about we take things slow? You promise me another date. I’ll promise to keep kissing you— exceptionally well.” A promise he’s more than willing to keep. 

“I like the sound of that.” Pulling him back for another kiss. 

#dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal #wildemaven holi-dave #wildemaven writes #pedrostories