#and all my friends growing up Wanted that !! they wanted marriage and a million kids and all the things we were told we needed to have | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

threadbaresweater · 9 months

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What You Need | Kishibe (CSM)

When you find yourself in the midst of a marriage in shambles, Kishibe is willing to help you ease the ache- if only for a little while. Cw: cheating, alcohol, driving under the influence, fingering, unprotected sex.

Everything feels wrong. You know you shouldn't be here, but there's some small, screaming part of you that demands that it be paid attention to. You feel slippery and lucid, as if you're not quite real. There's music playing, but it's muffled by the sound of your thoughts as you make your way to the darkened corner of the bar where he sits, three drinks in and poker-faced as ever.

He doesn't say a word as you slip onto the seat next to him. Dark eyes barely acknowledge your presence, and he throws back what's left of the whisky, gulping it down like it's water.

"Started without me?"

"You mad or something?"

You scoff as he signals to the bartender to bring two more drinks. "At you? Never."

"Right there's your first problem," he says, giving you a little bit of side-eye. He doesn't look directly at you. He hardly ever does; he doesn't like the feeling of someone being able to really look at him and see everything.

"Got a little tied up with the kids," you say, toying with the corner of a cheap, papery napkin.

"Right. Thought we agreed not to bring that up."

Your face grows warm and you suck in your bottom lip. "We did. My bad," you say, the guilt of it all gnawing at your stomach. With your thumb, you trace the indentation of where your wedding ring usually sits on your finger and take a deep breath. He knows you're married– you know he knows, but you still remove it anyway. It's tucked away in your change purse, a solid reminder that you belong to someone else.

Tonight, you'd rather not be reminded.

"Whatsa matter, you got cold feet?"

His question makes you twitch a little; you're brought out of your reverie and give him a flirty, bashful kind of smile. The corner of his lip barely lifts, but you see the glimmer of mischief clearly in his eyes. "No. I just…never imagined I'd be doing something like this."

Thankfully, the bartender brings your drinks, and you're temporarily occupied by the burn when you take a sip. Kishibe lights a cigarette, takes a drag, then offers it to you. For a moment, you hesitate, but your fingers touch his when you take it from him and you're reminded of why this was your idea in the first place.

"It's your circus, babe. I'm just your monkey.

That earns a laugh from you. Kishibe watches as you put the cigarette between your lips, a hunger in his eyes that you've seen a handful of times before, usually when you're alone in his office with the blinds drawn and the door locked.

It's been a long time since you've felt desirable to another man. Your husband's serial infidelity has left you broken; time and time again, he tells you he's sorry, and you've got a million and one reasons why you could leave him for good, but you just can't bring yourself to do it. It's complicated, you tell yourself and your friends who have begged you to leave him. But the kids need both of us. I'm not stable enough financially to be able to break free. The list is endless. Somewhere deep down, you think you still love him, but the fire has long been snuffed. When he tries to make love to you, you pretend to be asleep, and no matter how long he tries to kiss and touch you, you don't move. You don't want to. You can't shake the feeling that you're just another means for him to get off– that you're just an option for him now when his other lovers aren't giving him what he needs.

You know that fucking around with Kishibe isn't the right solution, but you don't want to think too hard about it. It's fun. It's hot. It's dirty and depraved and all things wrong and impulsive and reckless.

It's exactly what you need.

The drinks are enough to quell the uncertainty that simmers in the pit of your stomach and quiet your conscience, and when Kishibe throws down a few bills to cover the cost, you know he's had enough, too. Time is of the essence, so you quickly duck out of the bar and follow him to his car.

"What was your excuse tonight?" he asks, glassy-eyed but focused on the nearly deserted street. He really shouldn't be driving, but you can't bring yourself to care too much. You figure his blood is half alcohol anyway, and his place isn't too far away, so you relax and settle in for the ride.

"Drinks with friends," you say.

"Got a curfew?"

You shake your head. "As long as I'm home before–" Before the kids wake up.

Kishibe catches it. "Tsk. Strike two."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry!"

He reaches over to lay a rough, warm hand on your thigh and gives you a meaningful squeeze. "Relax. 'S no fun if you're gonna be all pent up like this."

He’s right, and you hate him for it. You take a deep breath to try and settle yourself, breathing out against your palm, elbow propped on the door frame as you watch the scenery crawl by. There’s an old song playing on the radio– you can’t make out the lyrics, but the tune is familiar, and you hum along while Kishibe makes the final turn to his house.

The night air as you step out of the car is balmy and heavy; it carries the scent of rain as it rustles through the trees that line the sidewalk, and you can’t help but notice how suburban and quaint his neighborhood is. It’s a far cry from what you were expecting, and your little laugh is carried off on the wind as he steps around the car and ahead of you, leading you up the concrete stairs on his porch.

As soon as the door is shut and you've just slipped off your shoes, he tugs you toward him with a strong arm hooked at your waist. You fall against him with a soft grunt just before he ducks his head to kiss your throat. You close your eyes and lift your face to the ceiling, and you're floating already. Tipsy and warm, you push your fingers through his hair and hold him as close as you can.

What you're doing with him isn't about love, and he knows it as well as you. It's not about revenge, or getting even; it's about doing something for yourself that doesn't benefit anyone else but you. It's about finally being selfish enough to chase your own pleasure, to stop trying so hard to make everyone around you happy by making all the wrong decisions for yourself that you could possibly make. Your children are home safe in their beds. You're not due at work, you even called your mother today to give her the latest news about your cheating husband. You're doing all the right things, all the time.

Sometimes, you just want to be wrong, though. It makes you feel alive. It makes you feel human. It makes you feel like no matter how bad things get, you can still grasp a little bit of happiness, no matter how fleeting it might be. No matter that it's built on a bed of lies and deceit and sneaking around.

Kishibe sucks on your jawline before drawing back to cup your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He's got a way of looking at you where it feels as if he can see every inner working of your psyche, but when you look back at him, you never quite know what he's thinking. Maybe it's the years of training he's endured to not show his weaknesses. Maybe it's just who he is. Maybe he's guarding himself from feeling something for you beyond a physical desire. Whatever it is doesn't matter when he bends forward just enough to kiss you.

It starts off like a whisper– open mouth, barely a breath between you, before he pinches your chin a little harder and licks into your mouth with a deep, raspy groan that makes you weak in the knees. Your trembling fingers tug at some of the longer strands of his hair, and you find that no matter how close he is, it's not close enough to satisfy the aching need that blooms throughout your body.

"Please," you whimper, muffled by the seal of his mouth over yours.

He pulls back just far enough to speak unhindered, lips bumping against yours as he breathes a reply. "Didn't think you were the type to beg."

You're consumed with him, overwhelmed by the way that your thoughts feel like static and your head is floating and you feel like you're drowning but oh wouldn't it be a wonderful way to go. It's a rush, it's too much, and it's scary because you've barely just kissed him but you're already lost in the flood.

Kishibe isn't the type of man you usually go for. He's rude, he's coarse, he's got an air of indifference that makes you want to slap him and wake him up. He's never seemed interested in anything that doesn't immediately benefit him or bring him some kind of temporary pleasure. You don't think you've ever seen him without a drink or a cigarette in hand, and the only time you've seen him with a semblance of a smile has been when he's caught wind of a devil being sent back to hell.

He's a far cry from the husband you have at home, who is– as far as anyone outside of your immediate family knows– a gentleman. Handsome and soft spoken and a doting father, he's exactly what he's supposed to be…except when he isn't. He's a liar and a cheater, and he plays one hell of a victim when it comes to confrontation. He's good at masking his true nature around those to whom his reputation matters. Behind closed doors, you know who he really is.

You like Kishibe because you know he's not bullshitting you. With him, what you see is what you get. He won't sugarcoat anything. He won't tell you pretty things to get you into his bed. He won't smile at you or compliment your outfit or tell you that you smell nice. He won't lie to you.

He won't lie to you.

He allows you to take control because he knows that it scratches some itch for you that you can't satisfy anywhere else. You're desperate to feel him inside you, to finally take that step into forbidden territory where there's no turning back. So you kiss him again and push weakly at his chest, guiding him to the couch just a few steps away where he sinks down into the cushions and rests his arms along the back. His legs are spread wide and he watches you with hungry eyes as you straddle him, grinding down on his half-hard cock as you settle into his lap.

"You're really worked up, aren't ya?"

One of his hands slides down around your hip, coarse fingertips digging into the swell of your ass to feel you sink a little deeper against him. "Yeah," you whisper, rubbing your cheek along the stubble of his chin, lazy tongue darting out to taste the salt on his skin. You don't want to talk. You want to feel good. So you take the lead (like you know he wants you to) and undo his belt, then his pants. Carefully, you peel away the elastic of his underwear; your breath catches when his cock springs free, already shining with a little drop of precum at the tip. You use your thumb to smear it before taking his length in your fist. It's so big that your fingers don't quite wrap all the way around, and your cunt throbs when you imagine how it's going to feel when he's balls deep inside you.

Kishibe's hands are at your waist again, thumbs on your skin beneath the waistband of your panties. He pushes, and you lift yourself away from his lap to take off your pants, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor at his feet. He appraises your figure through heavy-lidded eyes, his gaze dropping to your bare sex as he slides his tongue across his teeth.

You climb back into his lap, hovering just above where his cock stands at attention. He's pumping it himself, eyes trained on the way your thighs flex when you straddle him, on the softness of your belly and how it seems to quiver with every breath you take. You lean forward and kiss him again, hands on either side of his face, brows knitted together as you whimper softly.

He goes straight for the kill, fingers spreading you open to push one inside: he chuckles low, right next to your ear, when he feels how wet and swollen you are for him. Your body is alive and buzzing already, and when he fits another finger inside, your back arches and you cry out, gripping the back of the couch for stability.

"Fuck–" You gasp for air, too far gone to be embarrassed about how fast you feel your body responding. But just as you're reaching the moment where you know you'll fall apart, he slips his fingers out, leaving you breathless and empty.

You know what to do. Without hesitation, you sink down onto him slowly, the stretch even greater than you'd been able to imagine. Eyes wide, mouth formed into a pretty little 'o' shape that Kishibe thinks is just right for sticking his thumb into, you take his length until it feels like he's filled up every part of you.

"Oh my god," you whisper. Kishibe doesn't move, but you see the look in his eye. He allows himself the pleasure of feeling your walls open to him, the weight of you in his lap, the wet of your tongue as it traces along his throat.

"Go on, baby. See what you can do with it."

You being to rock, languid at first. Once you think you're accustomed to the stretch of him inside you, you move a little faster. He kneads at your ass with greedy hands, pushes his thumbs up under your bra to touch hardened nipples. He watches as you bounce in his lap as his length disappears inside you, coaxing you with words of quiet praise. Feels good, don't it? So greedy…take it all, sweetheart. Make it count.

You listen. You take and you take and you take, and you gasp for air when you feel the high you've been chasing reach a point where it's impossible to contain the way your body quakes and trembles around him. You grab fistfuls of his shirt and cry out his name at your peak, the pleasure almost too much for you to bear. It brings you to tears and you choke on a sob, falling forward to slump against him, chest heaving, a sheen of sweat beading across your brow.

A broad hand smooths over your back as you come down. He doesn't rush you to compose yourself. You rest in his lap, his cock growing limp inside you, the mess you've made of each other beginning to run down the inside of your thigh.

"You good?" he asks quietly, just after your silence becomes uncomfortable for him.

You nod, your face buried in his shoulder, arms linked around his neck.

"Need a drink?"

You nod again and sit up with a deep sigh, exhaled through your nose. He winces– still sensitive– when you lift yourself away from his lap and bend to grab your pants off the floor. He takes a moment to appreciate the view before tucking himself back into his own pants.

"Bathroom's down the hall to your left if you wanna get cleaned up."

You nod, trying in vain to fix your hair, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. You clutch your pants to your chest and tuck your chin, the reality of what you've just done beginning to sink in. Kishibe begins to unbutton his shirt on the way to the kitchen, seemingly unaware of your moral conflict.

"Hey," he says. It catches you off guard, and you jolt a little, looking up at him with brows raised, bottom lip tucked under your teeth.

"What?"

"Why the long face? You had fun, yeah?"

"Yeah," you say, a breathless giggle bubbling over. You don't remember the last time you wanted something so bad.

"Then smile. You're hurting my feelings." His deadpan delivery is so on brand that you can't help but laugh as he turns away.

"Kishibe?"

He calls from the kitchen. "I'm thirsty. Make it quick."

"Can we do it again?"

You're still standing in his hallway, still clutching your pants. Still riding the high of what you've done, shoddy marriage be damned.

"It's gonna cost ya," he says, appearing in the doorway with a glass of liquor.

You know the implication of what he says. It's going to cost you a lot of things, should you happen to get sloppy and your secret gets out. Kishibe lifts his glass in a mock toast and raises a brow, waiting for your answer.

"I know," you say. I'm good for it."

#csm x reader #kishibe x reader #kishibe smut #kishibe x you #csm x you

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demxters · 1 year

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— 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐢𝐢

robert ‘bob’ floyd x f!reader

summary: when bob floyd comes back to his hometown for the first time in six years, he reconnects with his childhood best friend in hopes of mending a relationship that once was.

wc: 7.7k

warning(s): fem!reader, pining, so much pining, childhood best friends to lovers, mentions of marriage, swearing, mention of pregnancy, kissing, non explicit description of sex/consented nudity (18+)

part of the ‘through the seasons’ universe

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𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!

“I knew you’d come back to me, you’d come back to me.” -cardigan, taylor swift

6 years ago, age 18

The ride home is silent. Unlike every other time they’ve spent in silence, this time was different. Tense. The both of you knew once Bob dropped you off at home, nothing was going to be the same.

It still hasn’t completely sunk in that your best friend was leaving. You would no longer be able to see him everyday. No more bike rides to his house, movie nights, sing-alongs in the car—all of it. And with the development of your relationship almost reaching one year, you feared what would happen in the long run. Would you make it? Or is the saying that long distance relationships don’t last true? You didn’t think Bob would make the decision for you so soon.

The moment he pulled up to your house, you immediately knew something was bothering him. His taut shoulders and his refusal to look you in the eyes were tell tale signs.

You wish he’d at least leave the engine on. Anything was better than the excruciating pain of sitting in uncomfortable silence.

He finally breaks the silence as he turns towards you. His knuckles grip the steering wheel so tight that his skin goes pale. Despite his body facing you, his stare is elsewhere. “I think we should… I don’t think we should stay together while I’m away.”

One thing you love about Bob Floyd is how he could make you feel a million emotions all at once, never leaving you to ever feel numb. However, as those words fell from his lips, you’ve never hated those feelings more. Confusion, grief, and sadness didn’t even begin to describe the ache in your chest. With Bob, it was always much more complex than that. “What do you mean?” you question.

“After boot camp, who knows where I’ll go or where I’ll be. I don’t even know how long it’ll be until the next time I can come home to you, Brandy,” he sighs, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.

You used to tease that he looked old when he did that. Now in the dim moonlight did you really see how much older he got. You realized how old the both of you really were. He was no longer the boy with chubby cheeks and lanky limbs. He lost his baby fat and gained a build to his body. You weren’t kids anymore. You were growing, young adults who were going to make their mark on the world. Bob leaving for the Navy was him making that mark. But you didn’t understand why he had to break up with you to do that.

“I can wait for you, Bobby. I will wait forever if I have to.” You reach forward, unclasping his hand from the wheel and encircling it tightly in yours.

He shakily exhales running his other hand down his face. “That’s the thing, you shouldn’t have to! At least if we stay friends, you can move on with your life and start a family like you want to instead of wasting your time on me.”

“You are not a waste of time, do you hear me? I don’t want to move on, I want you! I’ll only ever want you, Bob. Don’t you want me too?”

The crack of your voice damages his heart. “Honey, there’s no one else I’ll ever want. But I can’t do this to you. I won’t. I wish to always have you in my life, but a relationship right now just won’t work.”

“We can make it work,” you plead. You always wanted to have him in your life too. But after getting a taste of what it was like to be loved by your best friend, you couldn’t go back to being just that. Was it selfish? Perhaps. But your heart couldn’t handle not loving him in that way. Noticing the resignation in his clear blues, you hold on to him tighter. “It’s us, Bobby. We can do it.”

He rips himself from your hold and pushes his glasses back on his face after wiping away the tears. “Y/N, please. I’m not going to fight you on this.”

The use of your real name makes your shoulders slump in defeat. Nine times out of ten, you were Brandy, Brands, My Fine Girl, but very rarely Y/N. Y/N meant that he was serious. That he needed you to listen. All you can do is nod. You see how much your negotiating hurts him and you hate seeing him hurt, especially because you were the cause. So you comply. As much as it hurts, you comply because you know deep down that he was right. Though, it hurt you too to think that he didn’t believe in you guys as much as you did. That he didn’t even want to try.

“Ok, I’m sorry.” You pull away from him, setting your hands in your lap as you look down sheepishly. “Will you just promise me something? Before you go?”

“Anything.”

“Promise me you won’t leave me behind? That you won’t forget about me?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Sliding across the truck’s bench he wraps you in his arms with a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’ll never have to worry about that, you hear me? I couldn’t forget you even if I tried.”

He holds you in his arms for as long as he possibly can, relishing in this moment with you and wishing he could put it in a bottle and bring it with him to boot camp. For all he knew, this may be the last time he’d ever hold you again. Bob meant his words, truly he did. There was no one out there who could ever make him leave his Brandy behind.

No one but himself.

“Had I known the two of you would spend the entire evening swapping embarrassing anecdotes about me, I wouldn’t have invited you down here.” Bob jokingly scolds the duo on the couch as he places a tray of chai on the coffee table.

Amanda rolls her eyes and smacks her brother on the shoulder as he takes a seat beside her. “You’re just jealous that I like her more than you.” She sticks her tongue out at him.

“Phee, seriously, she’s all yours if you want her,” Bob pointedly looks to the woman on the right of his sister.

Lieutenant Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace, one of the best female pilots the US Navy has ever seen. The two had created quite a significant bond during their time with the Dagger Squad. With them being stationed in Miramar for the time being, Bob had been able to break out of his shell and get close with the rest of his fellow aviators–even Coyote and Hangman. However, his friendship with the female pilot was unmatched. Phoenix had promised to visit her back seater at least once while on leave as she had to admit she had grown a bit attached to her WSO.

The brunette pilot only laughs at the Floyd sibling’s antics. Growing up in a big family of her own, she wasn’t too phased by their behavior. In fact, she fit right in. She smiles at the two Floyds before winking at Mandy. “Looks like I’ve got myself another sister.”

“Thank goodness, I don’t like Robert right now anyways. He’s been so moody ever since his date with Brandy.” Amanda huffs.

“It wasn’t a date. And will you quit it? I am not moody!” Bob exasperatedly defends himself.

Swiping a mug from the tray Phoenix leans back into the couch. She angles her body toward the Floyds and raises an eyebrow in question. “Speaking of, can we recap this Brandy situation again? I only know what Amanda’s told me, but I’d like to hear it again from you.” She points a finger at Bob who flushes red from the attention.

He stays silent for a moment, clearly hesitant to tell his story.

“I can’t help if you don’t talk to me, Bob,” Phoenix reminds him.

He knows that. She knows he knows that. That’s the thing about Bob Floyd. He’s an incredible communicator. His WSO skills showed that much. However, he finds himself unable to speak in the limelight. He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that this is Phoenix he’s talking to. Someone who he literally trusts with his life. So he tells her everything from the beginning to now.

As the night drags on, Amanda decides to retire early leaving Bob and Phoenix in an uncomfortable silence. Phoenix could tell something was on the WSO’s mind and was hoping he would continue to open up to her. While with the squad, it was hard for Bob to open up. The first time he finally put down his walls in front of Phoenix was the night after their training ejection. Secrets, deepest regrets, and fears filled their shared hospital room, strengthening the bond between the two Lieutenants. That was the night Phoenix realized the quiet boy from North Carolina harbored more than he let on. That was the night Phoenix swore that no matter what happened during that mission, Bob would be the one that made it home.

While Bob excused himself to the bathroom, she found herself intrigued by the plethora of albums that lined the Floyd’s bookshelves. Titles such as “First Trip to Hawaii” to “Robert’s High School Years” were scrawled upon the leather spines. A small smile tugs at her lips as she tries to imagine what mementos were hidden between the pages. Her family wasn’t the sentimental type. She had pictures from her and her siblings’ graduations framed around the house, but that’s as far as memories went. It was cute, endearing, to see how much Bob’s family cherished the little moments.

“Find anything you like?” Bob’s voice startles her.

“Geez, Bob,” she places a hand above her heavily beating heart. “You really are a stealth pilot.”

He only rolls his eyes at her jab from the first time they met. Stepping up beside her, he skims the shelves of photo albums. A quiet, “Aha!” leaves his lips when he finds the book he’s looking for. Taking it from the shelf, he gestures for Phoenix to join him on the couch. She settles in beside him and he places the book between them.

Halloween, the album read. A simple, yet self explanatory title.

Bob pinpoints exactly where the sudden ache to open this particular album came from. It was from the cold air and crisp leaves that littered the streets. The warm shades of orange from the pumpkins that lined storefronts and the smell of maple from Patty’s Bakery was another. But there was one factor that stood out from the rest, one that rested in the album in his hands.

Phoenix waits, eager to know why Bob took this album off the shelf.

Sitting in comfortable silence, Bob opens the book not at the first page, but a little past that. The top read, Age 8, and it was a picture of a little boy and girl dressed as Peter Pan and Wendy Darling. On the next page, was a baby girl in a Tinkerbell costume. Bob wistfully smiles before turning the page.

Natasha observes each picture that he flips through, coming to the realization that the youngest girl in the pictures was Amanda. Which means the other girl with Bob must be Brandy. Her chest aches for her heartbroken friend, wishing there was something she could do to help him. His eyes lit up page, after page he turned and the sight warmed her.

He stops at Age 12 and Phoenix notices that one of the pictures that was supposed to be on that page, was missing. Bob shifts beside her and reaches for his back pocket, taking out his wallet. He gets a folded piece of paper from one of the sleeves and opens it for her to see. There in the photo was twelve year old Bob and Brandy dressed as Han Solo and Princess Leia. Phoenix’s brows furrow. Where has she seen that photo before?

“Fall was always Brandy’s favorite season. The Fall Carnival, pumpkins, Halloween? She’s a sucker for it.” Bob breaks the silence, finally ready to talk. “She used to beg me to match costumes with her for the Fall Carnival costume contest. The winner always got this huge bag of candy that she insisted she just had to have. Brandy doesn’t even like candy!” He laughs to himself, remembering all the ridiculous excuses you came up with to get him to dress up with you.

Phoenix hums with a gentle smile on her face. “You really miss her, don’t you Floyd?”

Brushing his thumb across your smiling face in the picture, Bob sighs. “So goddamn much.”

Age 16

“Sorry,” you whisper as Bob hisses at the alcohol pad you brush over his raw knuckles. You continue to clean his bloody knuckles from the altercation at school. Thinking about it again makes you boil with anger. “Why the hell did you punch Daniel? Why didn’t you just walk away?”

His chest is heaving and he pulls his hand away from your hold. Avoiding your gaze, he wipes at his dried tears with his other hand. “He wouldn’t shut up.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Daniel always runs his mouth. You’ve never punched him in the face because of it.”

“I didn’t punch him because he was talking. I punched him because of what he was talking about,” Bob explains.

“What was he talking about?” You question. You’ve never seen Bob so bothered by anything Daniel Corcoran has done. What could he have said to make Bob lash out?

“You, Brandy. The way he was talking about you… It was disgusting. Those words shouldn’t have even left his mouth.”

You have never heard Bob speak with so much malice and distaste towards another. To you, he was the sweetest thing. One of the purest souls you’ve ever met. His usually clear blue eyes were darkened to an almost gray color, almost as if a storm were brewing amongst them. It was a look that was unfamiliar to you. You hated how attractive you found it.

“Bob, what did he say?” You press on.

His frown deepens. The worry lines on his forehead are more prominent as he recalls Daniel’s words. “It doesn’t matter. He won’t ever talk about you like that again. Not if I have anything to do with it.”

The way he speaks with so much conviction all because someone dared to dirty your name, made an indescribable feeling flow through you. One you have felt for fleeting crushes and short infatuations but never for Bob. You locked that part of your heart away every time it dared to break free. However the poor lighting of his bathroom accentuated his features much more despite its unattractive yellow tint and you wanted to take away the obvious stress that he was harboring. So you threw all caution to the wind.

From where you kneel on the floor between his legs, you surge forward and plant your lips squarely on his. You’ve only kissed one boy in your entire life, one you weren’t proud of. But the lack of experience was endearing. How Bob’s hands hovered just around the area of your waist, unsure if he was welcome to hold you in such an intimate way. How your lips weren’t exactly centered on his as you slightly placed them a little too much to the right so you ended up hitting the corner of his lips. You pull away, breathless and unable to move.

Bob’s cheeks are burning red as you retreat and you immediately regret acting upon such an impulsive decision. You open your mouth to apologize when he cuts you off.

“Can we do that again?”

You swallow harshly and nod your head a little too eagerly. He leans in and this time, his forehead hits yours making you sink back to your knees in a fit of giggles. He joins you with a laugh of his own.

It wasn’t the most perfect first kiss the two of you could’ve shared, but it was yours. Nothing could be more perfect than this.

With Halloween just around the corner, the bakery couldn’t be more busy. Large orders of cookies, cupcakes, and pies galore were going in and out of the store like clockwork. You’ve barely had any time to take a break. You didn’t mind the rush, though. It gave you less time to think about Bob. His confession after the Fall Carnival hurt you. To think that he knew how much you needed him and he never even bothered to write a letter back in response or stopped by just once to let you know he was ok. You’ve never felt so betrayed.

Things at the bakery came to a lull after lunchtime when everyone got off their breaks and returned back to their nine to five jobs. You stand at the checkout counter, watching the minutes tick by. You’ve already restocked the displays, made a new batch of dough for tomorrow’s bakes, and even swept the floor. Twice. There was absolutely nothing else you could possibly do but wait until the end of your shift. The last few hours of your day were always the worst. It always gives you time alone with your thoughts. The same ones you’ve been trying to avoid.

You dramatically sigh as you hang your head back. Skimming the pages of the bright pink sticky notes that sat on the counter you tear one off and draw some doodles. A pumpkin, a pie, another pumpkin. You crumple up the piece of paper in frustration, praying for anyone to walk through the door.

As if to answer your prayers, the welcome bell rings and you’re up and straightening your posture. “Welcome to Patty’s!” you exclaim, admittedly a little too enthusiastically.

The woman that walks in is one that is unfamiliar to you with long brunette hair and a tanned complexion. You’re sure she isn’t from around here. She responds with a warm smile as she strolls up to the counter. Her eyes scan the display of sweets as you pull out a pen to take her order.

“My friend sent me to pick up two dozen boxes of maple doughnuts,” she states casually.

Your brows raise in amusement. “Two dozen, huh? I’m hoping that’s not just for the two of you,” you smile.

“Oh no, the two dozen are only for him. He goes a bit overkill on the sweets.”

Her statement makes you laugh. “Your friend reminds me of someone I know.” Assembling two pastry boxes you tell her, “I’ll get those prepped for you.”

The woman nods gratefully. “Thanks,” her gaze drops to your name tag. “Y/N.”

“No problem. But you can call me Brandy. Rarely anyone in this town uses my real name except the ones I don’t like,” you wink playfully at her.

“Brandy?” she repeats. “As in, Bob’s Brandy?”

You pause in your motions, putting down the box and eyeing the woman quizzically. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry.” Holding her hand out for you, she says, “I’m Lieutenant Natasha Trace. Callsign Phoenix.”

The name is familiar, and you were honestly surprised to see her here. “Bob’s front seater,” you state rather than question.

“That’s me,” she smiles. “I hope this isn’t too weird or crossing some sort of line–”

“No, no. Not at all,” you reassure her. “This was just the last thing I was expecting today.” You awkwardly avoid her gaze before continuing the task at hand.

Finishing up the rest of the packaging and payment, another thought crosses your mind.

“Did Bob put you up to this? Because I already told him—“

“Well, yes, he told me to pick up some doughnuts from Patty’s but he didn’t tell me that you would be the one working here,” she confirms.

There’s a genuine and honest air to her that tells you she’s not lying. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything.”

She easily dismisses your apology. “It’s alright. Really. But for what it’s worth, he never did forget you, Brandy. You know he keeps a photo of the two of you in his flight suit from when you were kids? The one where you’re dressed as Han Solo and Leia. I accidentally found it in the box when I was cleaning out our plane one day.”

Hearing that was enough to bring tears to your eyes. You desperately try to hold it in. “That’s… good to know. Thank you, Natasha.”

You bid the woman goodbye and wait until she’s out of view before sliding down the counter to the floor and letting the tears fall. With a hand over your mouth, you muffle your cries. Knowing that he kept you with him all those years yet never reached out, confused you. You were so sure it was because he found a home in the Navy, one that was impossible for you to compete with. But if what Natasha said was true, then why did he push you away?

Age 14

“Bob. Bobby. Bobert.” You obsessively poke at your best friend’s shoulder.

“Brandy,” he acknowledges you just barely as he organizes his books in his locker.

“You’re my best friend, right?”

“I would hope so, Brands. Unless this is your way of telling me that I’m being replaced by your new friend, Delaney,” Bob grumbles under his breath.

You step to his other side, partially leaning on his left shoulder. His stance is unwavering as he shuts his locker door. Despite his lanky form, you had to admit Bob was stronger than he looked. “How many times do I have to tell you, Delaney’s a nice girl! You two just got off on the wrong foot.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because calling me ‘grandpa glasses’ is nice.”

You huff as you hook your arm with his and rest your head on his shoulder. “She meant that as a compliment.”

“Really?”

“It’s unique, isn’t it?” You continue to try to make light of the situation.

Bob only scoffs as he continues to walk with you to the bike racks.

“Anyways, I wanted to ask if you would come with me to Evelyn Orville’s Halloween party this weekend.”

Bob frowns at your declaration. “You want to go to Evelyn’s party? This morning when she handed you the flier you told her parties were for high school wannabes. Why’d you change your mind?”

Shrugging, your eyes dart to the ground and your grip tightens on where you hold onto the crook of Bob’s elbow.

“Brandy?” He coaxes you gently.

“I overheard Evelyn and some other girls talking about me behind my back. They said they weren’t surprised that someone as boring as me wouldn’t want to go,” you admit softly.

“Hey,” Bob stops in his tracks, putting his hands on your shoulders. “They said that?” When you don’t respond, Bob shakes you by the shoulders. “You are not boring, you hear me? Besides, who cares about their opinions anyway? You’re like, the coolest person I know.”

Finally looking up at him, a ghost of a smile rises to your face. “Really?”

“Are you kidding? You have every Lord of the Rings book. In hard copy. That’s the coolest thing ever,” he gives you a toothy grin.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as an attempt to hide the smile that threatens to fall on your face. “So that’s why you hang out with me, huh? To borrow books off my shelves?”

Bob puts his hands up in mock surrender. “You got me.” Nudging you gently with his elbow, he hooks his arm back with yours. “Screw Evelyn and her stupid party. We’re gonna spend the night with some popcorn and Ghostbusters. How does that sound?”

You beam at his suggestion. “Bob Floyd, that sounds like a dream.”

The plan was, there is no plan. It was possibly the second stupidest thing Bob has ever heard. To be fair, the first was when Payback and Fanboy claimed they could do the Dirty Dancing stunt blindfolded.

Bob thought the perfect way to get you back was flowers, chocolates, and to apologize on his knees for you to forgive him.

Amanda wrinkled her nose at that statement. “Bob, this isn’t a Hallmark movie. Stuff like that doesn’t work in real life. You have to put in the work. Really show her that you care. That you love her.”

“That’s easier said than done, kiddo,” Bob grumbles. Running a hand through his already disheveled hair, he groans. “Besides, she knows I love her and I know she loves me. I don’t know what else she wants from me.”

Phoenix has been quiet for a majority of their scheming taking in every detail, big or small, into consideration. Her brows were furrowed and she was twirling a pen between her fingers in the way she always did when she was in deep concentration.

It’s Bob’s words that cause her breakthrough.

“She wants you, Bob,” Phoenix reveals. “That’s all Brandy ever wanted. Amanda’s right, all that cheesy stuff won’t work. In fact, I doubt it’s what she’s looking for.”

“Then what is she looking for?” Bob questions, clearly still lost.

She pauses before leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “Bob, I think you already know. Use that brain of yours. That’s all I can say.” Phoenix stands, placing an encouraging squeeze to his shoulder before gesturing for Amanda to join her outside. As much as they wanted to tell him the pieces he was missing, this was something Bob had to figure out on his own.

He watches as the two girls leave to sit on the patio, restarting the fire they built a few hours prior. Bob hated this. He loved puzzles, but this he hated. Because you were never a puzzle. Not to Bob. He could read you like an open book. There was almost nothing the two of you didn’t know about each other. So why was he having such a hard time figuring out why you were so desperate to let him go? He knew he hurt you. He knew he was an idiot for not reaching out, for hiding the fact that he hadn't visited you on purpose.

Bob squeezes his eyes shut, desperately trying to find the key to what was bothering you. He opens his eyes once more and catches a glimpse of his Prom photo. You in your satin green dress was enough to make him blush like a schoolgirl. It was a bit pathetic how easily you made him weak in the knees. He smiles to himself reminiscing about that night, one of the best nights of his life.

It’s then that it clicks.

Age 18

Your skin is slick with sweat as you come down from your high. You tighten your grip on his shoulders at the muffled moans that escape his lips. His lips press one last delicate kiss to the skin of your neck before pulling out of you with a dopey smile on his face. The euphoria from the moment you just shared has you giggling like a little kid, and the way his neck and chest flush red has you cooing. Smoothing down his mussed hair, you smile. You couldn’t believe that you just had sex with your best friend. The boy you’ve known for years. You practically grew up with him by your side. And now you were seeing him naked.

You squeal, pushing his body quickly off yours and tugging the blankets over your bare form, hiding under the covers. You hear him yelp in shock before he shuffles beside you and places a soft hand on your covered knee.

“Brandy?” You don’t respond and his moment of bliss dissipates. “Shit, you’re starting to regret this, aren’t you? I just ruined our friendship and now you hate me and–”

Peeking from beneath the covers, you frantically shake your head at Bob who’s beginning to spiral into a pit of self depreciation. “No, Bob, that’s not it at all.” Taking the hand that rests on your knee, you give it a tight squeeze. “I don’t regret anything that happened tonight. I’m just… nervous.”

“Nervous? About what?”

“Bobby, we just had sex,” you whisper into the dark.

His jaw opens and closes, unsure what to say. “Are you only realizing that now?”

Flopping back onto the bed, you groan. “Bob, I'm serious!”

“Ok, ok sorry,” he laughs before shifting to lay beside you. Bob pushes himself to rest on one arm while letting go of your hand to stroke the apple of your cheek. “Hey, talk to me, Brands.”

You take a deep breath. This is Bob, your best friend. You know you can talk to him. There isn’t anything you haven’t told him. Yet this new form of intimacy the two of you shared, might have changed everything and you’re not sure if you’re ready to face that.

“Whatever it is, you know I won’t judge you for it.”

You gulp, trying to keep the tears at bay. “What if this changes everything? What if you get up tomorrow and realize you made a mistake? Or we have this huge falling out and you hate me for being your first time? I don’t think I could handle how much that would hurt, Bob. I just can’t.”

Carefully turning your head to face him with the one cradling your cheek, he rests his forehead on yours. “I could never regret you and I could never hurt you without reason.”

You push him back onto the mattress with a searing kiss and roll on top of him. Bob whines in surprise into your mouth but it turns into a sigh when you cup his face and coax his jaw open. This kiss is different from the ones you’ve shared with him before. Each movement burned as his tongue massaged yours. It was eager and possessive. Sweet, but passionate. A complete one-eighty from the Bob you know. It was the kind of change that had you wanting more.

He breaks the kiss to roll you back onto your back, opting to be on top. He brushes some stray hair from your forehead and you take the moment to ask one last thing. “Is that a promise?”

“With everything I have, darling.”

It’s a promise he seals with another kiss.

Delaney’s hand links with yours as you enter the assembly hall. You’d usually sit up front with the Floyds but decide against it and tug her towards the middle rows. You see the back of his dirty blond hair styled to perfection as always. Just the mere sight of him makes your chest hurt so you bring your attention elsewhere.

You heard Lieutenant Trace was still in town and was glad to see her at the Town Meeting. You wished things weren’t so tense between you and Bob because you could see yourself becoming great friends with the girl. She was spunky like Delaney and had this comforting air about her that made you feel like you could trust her with just about anything. You make a mental note to at least talk to the pilot once more before her stay is over.

The meeting starts as usual with the town’s economic updates and some neighborhood disturbances that need to be taken care of. Mayor Orville and Mr. Johnson have their usual fifteen minute argument about whose side of the grass is theirs on the property they share. Then it’s time for the open mic session, also known as nonsense hour by Lanchester’s residents. They liked to play a game to see how fast they could get Mayor Orville to turn red by their ridiculous questions and ideas.

You look to Delaney with an amused smile, ready for the night’s entertainment when Mayor Orville makes a different announcement than usual.

“Instead of tonight’s open mic session, a very special request was put in by one of our fellow townsmen to take a moment of your time tonight. So please, Lieutenant Floyd, if you will.”

The mayor gestures to Bob who sits in the front row and your eyes widen as he makes his way to the podium. Bob was a shy boy. He didn’t like small talk and turned red whenever anyone other than his parents and you made eye contact with him. However, he was an incredible public speaker. He always had a way of captivating a crowd. You liked to think it was because of his eyes. So expressive and blue, pulling you in like a tide to the sea.

“Good evening, everyone,” he starts, clearing his throat and tugging at the collar of his flannel shirt. “Some of you know me as Robert Floyd. Others as Lieutenant,” he pauses and smiles at Phoenix. “Or Cry Baby Floyd,” he eyes Daniel Corcoran who sheepishly looks away at Bob’s gaze. “But if you really knew me, if you were someone I truly cared about, you would know me as Bob or Bobby.”

He takes a deep breath, looking everywhere but at you, which you deduce is intentional.

“And if you got the privilege to know me as Bob that means you’ve heard of Brandy. My best friend, my confidant, my—“

“Other half!” Mrs. Richmond shouts, pulling soft giggles and murmurs of agreement from the crowd.

You break your attention from Bob and to the girl beside you. You silently plead with Delaney, with a look on your face that screams you’re ready to go home. But she only grasps onto your hand tighter as if she were unable to let you go.

Bob chuckles breathlessly at Mrs. Richmond’s unprompted comment. “Right, my other half,” he continues. “I’m no stranger to the comments or rumors about us that fly around this town. Which I just got to say, is there really no more town gossip to talk about?

The other day, Mr. Campbell asked me if Brandy and I got back together. To answer your question, Mr. Campbell, no we didn’t. Because I’m an idiot. A selfish, cowardly idiot.”

Bob steps down from the podium and makes his way down the rows. The closer he gets the tighter your chest is and you’re starting to find it getting harder to breathe.

Still avoiding eye contact with you he says, “I made a promise to my best friend that I would never hurt her. At least not without reason. But I broke that promise, and I’m so sorry Brandy. I’m so, fucking sorry.” His voice cracks towards the end of his tangent and he finally looks at you.

Your glassy eyes mirror his and you suddenly feel eighteen again. Flashbacks from that night cloud your thoughts as you remember his words and feel the ghost of his touch on your skin.

“Brandy—“

You abruptly stand. The metal from the chair scratched on the concrete floor making a horrible noise that makes those around you wince. You can’t stand to hear anymore. You don’t want to. Ripping your hand from Delaney’s hold, you excuse yourself from the meeting and bolt for the double doors.

Bob stands there, shaken at your sudden departure. The mic in his hands almost slips from his melted composure and his chest heaves as an attempt to stop himself from crying in front of the whole town. He didn’t even realize Mayor Orville had taken the mic from him and continued on with the meeting.

It’s Delaney’s sudden change of heart that brings him back to Earth. “Go,” she says, gesturing to the double doors. “Go after her and fix this. But if you ever hurt her again Robert Floyd I swear—“

“I won’t. Never again.” The two share a look of mutual understanding before Bob barges through the doors to run after you.

“Brandy!” He sees you hastily walking down the empty road. Bob calls you again and sees you wrap your arms tighter around yourself but you keep going. “Y/N!”

The use of your real name sends a shockwave through you and you finally stop. You don’t even want to turn and face him because you know the second you do, you’ll break down all over again. Just like the first time you did when he left.

Bob comes to a stop right behind you, heaving and almost out of breath. He grabs you gently by the elbow. He treats you as if you were as fragile as his mother’s china. As if one wrong move would cause you to shatter into a million pieces.

He doesn’t need to use much force to get you to turn around, which he’s grateful for, until you take another step back and out of his reach.

“What are you doing, Bob?” You ask, voice raw and watery from crying.

“I’m apologizing,” he answers meekly.

“No, I mean what are you doing with my heart? Do you want me or not because I'm tired of playing whatever game this is with you.” You’re angry, absolutely seething at him. Who did he think he was? Did he really think causing a scene in front of the whole town was going to get you to forgive him? That everything would be fixed in an instant? Bob Floyd broke you and you would not give him any more pieces of you to shatter.

“Is that even a question? Of course, I want you Brandy. You know that. You will always be the only one I want. You were my first everything! First best friend, first kiss, first girlfriend, first love, first time…” he trails off, flustered as he recalls that night. “I want you to be my last. I know what I did hurt you, baby, and I understand why you’re so angry at me now. It’s because I hurt you and to you I didn’t even have a reason. I just up and left and never came back.”

He’s heaving and gasping for breath through his speech as the cold autumn air infiltrates his lungs.

“But that’s the farthest thing from the truth.”

“What is the truth then, Bob? Because I spent years wondering where I went wrong. Why I…” You break, letting the first sob crawl up your throat. “Why wasn't I enough for you?”

Bob’s resolve shatters and he hates himself for making you think you weren’t enough. There was absolutely nothing that hurt him more than that. He rushes forward not caring about the distance you desperately put between you. Wrapping his arms tightly around you, he cradles your head to his chest and lets a series of his own tears fall.

“You were always enough. You still are. It was me who wasn’t enough for you,” he says into your ear. “I never deserved you, Brandy. I thought you’d hate me when I told you I was going to join the Navy but instead you did the complete opposite. You encouraged me to go and helped me enlist. Not once, did you show any anger or resentment towards me for wanting to escape this town. Then the night I left, you told me you’d wait for me and I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t be the reason why you put everything in your life on hold. I couldn’t be the reason why you didn’t go to the university you wanted to, or find a man who would be there for you to start a family with.

So I never reached out. I never visited or called or wrote back because I needed you to move on from me, sweetheart, because I knew I was only going to hold you back.”

“Bob,” you start, lifting your head from his chest but he only shakes his head.

“I couldn’t give you all the things you wanted despite how much I wanted it myself. I couldn’t bear the thought of you and our family getting the call that I’m not coming home. That our child would have to grow up without a father.”

You slide your arms up his chest, cupping the back of his neck. “That’s not fair, Bob. You didn’t even give me a chance to decide. Did you think I wasn’t aware of what it meant for you to be in the Navy? I didn’t care! As long as I was with you, that’s all I needed. But you couldn’t even fight for me, and that’s what hurt the most.”

He brings his hands to your face, wanting to feel you close. “And I will regret it for the rest of my life. I know I wasn’t fair and I should have given you that choice. Which is why I’m here now and even though I don’t deserve it, I’m going to fight for one last chance. I’m going to fight for you and I’m going to wait for however long it takes for you to forgive me because I love you. I love you and I don’t want to live another day without you.”

A heavy breath leaves you and you're overwhelmed with the sudden urge to kiss him, to tell him you love him too because you knew in your heart that he meant it. He was only doing what he thought was best for you, though his method wasn’t the most conventional way. “You mean it, Floyd?”

“With everything I have, darling,” he swears.

Narrowing your eyes as you look at him, you hold onto his wrists and tentatively nod. “One more chance, Robert. You get one chance and that’s it.”

The grin that overtakes his features is bright enough to light up the night sky. “One chance is all I need. And Brands?”

You hum.

“I love you.”

Six Months Later…

“You sure this Brandy chick actually exists, Phoenix?” Hangman eyes the doors of The Hard Deck while sinking another ball.

The female pilot rolls her eyes as she makes her way around the table to situate her next shot. “For the thousandth time, Bagman, yes ok? I know her personally and Bob’s not a liar.”

He shrugs, leaning on his cue stick. “I’m just saying, she sounds a little too good to be true and that’s coming from me.”

A series of groans emit from the Dagger Squad at Hangman’s comment. The pool game continues with some sly remarks here and there from the cocky aviator when Bob bursts through the door with the biggest smile on his face and a pretty lady on his arm.

“Well, shit,” Hangman whistles as Coyote elbows him in the ribs.

As Bob approaches the table, you’re met with the familiar sight of Phoenix who waves at you from the pool table. The others you see are only faces and names you know from pictures. Suddenly feeling intimidated, you tuck yourself away behind the safety of Bob, waiting for him to introduce you to the others.

“Everyone, this is Brandy. Brandy, the squad,” he gestures to the gaping aviators who clearly didn’t believe you were real until now.

Peeking from behind his shoulder, you send them a warm smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

“Pleasure’s all ours,” the man known as Payback speaks up. “When Bobby here told us he had a girl back home, we just knew we had to meet her.”

Knocking your hip with Bob’s you bashfully smile. “You talk about me?”

“You’re all he's ever talked about since he came back from our leave six months ago,” Rooster replies with a grin.

Bob waves off the others’ comments as they continue to tell you all about his gushing. “Ok, Phoenix, watch them will ya? Make sure they don’t say anything else embarrassing while I grab Brandy a drink.” He turns to you with a knowing look. “The usual?”

“Yes, please.”

He nods and places a soft kiss onto your cheek before walking towards the bar. As he waits for Penny to get your drink, he watches as you laugh with the squad by Phoenix’s side. The sight makes a familiar warmth grow in his chest. You look so at home with his work family, he wonders why he ever thought it was a good idea to keep this part of his life away from you. The way you conversed with Fanboy and playfully rolled your eyes at whatever comment Hangman was making told Bob he wouldn’t have to worry about leaving you alone anymore. Not when his other family had your back.

Bob thanks Penny with a nod as he grabs your drink, but not before making a stop at the jukebox. He walks back to the group, handing you your drink and draping his arm over your shoulders.

An all too familiar tune filters through The Hard Deck that makes your eyes light up with childlike joy.

There's a port on a western bay

And it serves a hundred ships a day

Lonely sailors pass the time away

And talk about their homes

Grabbing his hand that rests over your shoulder, you spin around with a teasing smile. “Come dance with me, sailor.”

You excuse yourselves from the group and pull him out onto the wooden deck of the bar. The evening air is cold against your skin, but you welcome it as it soothes the heat from the alcohol. You place your glass on one of the tables as Bob releases your hand and wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you close.

He hums the words into your ear as the two of you sway and you don’t think you’ve ever felt more at peace. Resting your head on his shoulder, you sigh, “I love you, Robert Floyd.”

He holds you tighter and looks down at where you rest against him. Bob presses a kiss to your hairline, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I love you more, Brandy, my fine girl.”

The rest of the squad eventually joins you outside later that night, swapping stories and anecdotes of their adventures as a team. It’s as you sit nuzzled against his side with his jacket wrapped around your shoulders and your head against his hip that Bob knows he finally found his way home.

a/n: these two are my babies. i love them and will cherish them forever. one more part to this officially will be an epilogue! i also have some cut scenes and other fun stuff planned for these two so stay tuned for that as well! also thank you to everyone who has read and supported this series! i appreciate you all so much.

series taglist: @gretagerwigsmuse @marantha @mountainrooster @gcidrvsh @smoothdogsgirl @pr3ttyboysmakemecry @steve--harrington--gal @joaquinwhorres @t-nd-rfoot

#robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x f!reader #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x f!reader #—through the seasons

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stardustviolet · 3 months

Text

“I was at the supermarket, picking up some little pre-mixed martinis to enjoy in the sun, when I sensed the store manager hovering behind me. “Got any ID for that?” he asked, sighing protractedly. I didn’t. “But I’m 30 years old,” I said, motioning towards my face. “See? 30.” He laughed as if I were an over-confident sixth grader trying my luck. “Yeah, I don’t think so,” he said, scooping up the cans. “Sorry, no can do.”

Right then I felt like kicking over a nearby cereal display, spilling Shreddies everywhere. Think I’m a teenager? Watch me act like one, then. But I’m 30, so…my impulse control kicked in.

People love to say “consider it a compliment!” when you get mistaken for someone a lot younger, but I don’t at this point. I graduated from college nearly 10 years ago. I’ve worked as a journalist and editor for almost as long, been in multiple relationships, and navigated intense life experiences. I own a Hetty hoover. I’ve published a book. I remember AOL! When someone says I look younger than I am, what I really hear is: None of that counts. I still don’t take you seriously. Not that people in their 20s don’t get taken seriously, but I’m a different person to who I was at 24, 25, even 26. I want that to show, externally.

I don’t think I actually look physically younger than 30. But—like other millennials—I possibly give off a younger “energy.” My arms are covered in stick ’n’ pokes from my 20s. I look at ease in a cozy hoodie and low-slung jeans. Plus, I barely scrape 5’2”. The way I speak and hold myself hasn’t changed much in the past few years. And I’m not alone in this: my friends, who are broadly the same age as me, could easily be five years younger. My fiancée is a full-time musician with bleached blonde hair and a penchant for motocross jackets. As a kid, I didn’t picture 30 looking like this. My high school teachers were 30. We definitely look different from them. We act differently from them, too.

Much has already been said about millennials’ inability to “grow up.” We’re lambasted for not owning homes or having kids soon enough (who can do either of those things unless you have a hefty two-income household and/or an inheritance?). We’re living with friends and roommates like overgrown students for a lot longer (plenty of my single friends can’t afford to live alone). And things like marriage, or toiling away in the same career, appear to have lost their shine for many. Even so, that doesn’t explain why we don’t always look like the 30-somethings of yesteryear—or why I can’t get served a pink martini in my local supermarket.

I’m not the only person to be mulling this over. TikTok is overrun with videos about why millennials don’t seem to be aging “normally” (“why don’t millennials age?” currently has around 19.4 million views on TikTok). Some have hypothesized that it’s because “tweakments” like filler and botox are cheaper and more widely available now. Others have joked that it’s because millennials “have depression, so we’re indoors all day, and we don’t let the sunlight age our skin.” Still others have wondered whether it’s due to camera phones, and the fact that we see ourselves more often than ever before, meaning we pay more attention to our looks and outfits. Or maybe we are aging normally, we just don’t think we are, so we don’t act like it.

There are likely countless reasons for this time-body-mind warp. One of my personal theories is that our image of a “real adult” is simply outdated, and fails to take more recent style and culture shifts into account. Your parents and grandparents didn’t post photo dumps, wear athleisure in the workplace, or DM their colleagues “lmao” in their 30s. But frames of reference evolve constantly, and that’s what 30-somethings are like now. You don’t just suddenly get a cropped haircut and start saying the word “trendy” as you age. We’re stuck with an image of a 30-something that is no longer relevant. I’m sure Gen X—the Britpop kids, the ravers—didn’t always resemble dads. It must have taken a moment to catch up.

Before I continue, I must add: I’m well aware that age is mostly meaningless, and that attaching labels to a person based on an arbitrary yearly marker is a disservice to their individualism. I know that most people don’t actually “feel” their age, because they just feel like themselves (same here). And I am so much more interested in a person’s mind than how old they are. But that doesn’t mean I am not intrigued and curious about how I appear to others now that I’m in my 30s. I find myself fearful of becoming a Benjamin Button-like character—like when you google a child actor and they look the same as an adult, just weird and with facial hair. Are millennials like child actors? Stuck, and frozen in time, forever?

One of the most frightening things about existing is that the world keeps spinning and time keeps hurtling onwards. Stop, you feel like protesting, I’m not ready yet, I’m not ready. But the universe does not hear you, and it doesn’t care anyway. That’s the great tragedy and gift of living. We all move forward. And one day soon, Gen Z will wake up and they will be middle-aged, and Gen Alpha will have children of their own, and their grandparents will not be wearing slacks and cardigans and taping money to Christmas cards. They’ll be wearing Juicy Couture and Post Malone Crocs and sending skull emoji reacts to their grandkids’ messages.“

#millennials #millennial #gen y #generation y

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hargrove-mayfields · 9 months

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Disabled Billy and Steve Week

Day 6- Relationships

My prompt- Carol and Steve: Friends to the End

-•-•-•-

It’s a Wednesday, which means Steve and Carol are having one of their weekly get-togethers.

This time, they’ve decided not to go out or do anything fancy, opting to just lay in Carol's room in a fort they made of every pillow, blanket, and stuffie they could find. They’re both in fuzzy pajamas, wearing skin care masks and gossiping like they’re still fourteen.

Carol surprises Steve by talking about themselves instead of somebody else for once, “Do you remember being little, and promising to get married if we weren’t already with somebody by the time we were fifteen?”

As if that would ever happen. Carol Maryanne Perkins is his best friend for life. Sure, a platonic marriage was possible, but Steve didn’t think two disabled people getting married for friendship would result in the best outcome. Leave it up to the shitty money stealing government to ruin a perfectly good thing.

Steve scrunches his nose up, trying to show in his face how he feels about the old idea.

Carol gets it, even when Steve doesn’t feel ready to use words. She laughs and rolls her eyes, “I know, right? We thought fifteen was like, totally grown up.”

It is actually kind of funny, that they’ve known each other for that long, since they were in diapers really, and have so many silly bets like that running. Steve smiles and holds her hand, now that her purple nail polish is dry and the action won’t make them both sticky and miserable.

Carol isn’t usually the type to dwell in the past, but she lingers on the subject of their childish view of love, “And now I’d be the bride, and you’d be the groom.”

It’s true, and Steve finds it somewhat amusing as well. Nobody expected there to be two trans kids in the middle of Hawkins fucking Indiana, and especially not for them to be popular best friends. Mixing up the narrative is what they do.

But Steve doesn’t get what Carol needs. He’s not the greatest at social cues and things, but he can tell there’s a reason Carol is being so reflective. He furrows his eyebrows and tips his head to one side, signaling his growing confusion.

Out of nowhere, Carol rips off the bandaid, and Steve’s heart with it, “I know you like Tommy, Stevie. I see it when you’re around him.”

Instant panic. Being in love with your best friend's fiancé is a big no. Ever since this dumb crush started, Steve has been terrified of Carol finding out and breaking off their years of friendship. All for one really funny, super sweet, freckle faced cutie.

Thankfully, Carol doesn’t react in the millions of horrible ways that Steve has imagined. She actually seems happy, “Hey, before you freak out, I’m open to sharing. I just want you to know right away I don’t feel that way about you. You’re my best friend, and that’s all.”

Steve nods happily. There’s no way he’d ever feel anything romantic for Carol. Their bond just isn’t like that. This friendship was written in the stars, as exactly that, just a friendship.

He makes a little scratching out motion with his hand, to show Carol he is not interested in that.

“Oh, right! You only like guys! Duh, why was I even nervous?” Carol laughs nervously, and Steve can detect the hint of annoyed sarcasm.

It’s not at him, it’s at herself; Carol thought Steve might still see her as a boy.

Steve feels sad for her, and opens his arms up for a hug. Touch isn’t his thing, it makes him uncomfortable usually, but he understands that kind of pain and wants to soothe it in his best friend.

Carol smiles softly, and clarifies before jumping into anything, “Are you sure, sweetie?”

Steve just nods and makes a grabby hand motion, inviting her into his arms.

“Alright, here goes nothing.” Carol declares, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around Steve, giggling when he taps and pats her shoulders, happy stimming all over the place.

Not that Steve really knows an appropriate amount of time to hug for, but he knows this one lasts a long time, and that fills his heart up with happiness.

He feels ready to speak to tell her, “I love you, CeCe.”

“And I love you Stevie.” Carol replies back, automatic but genuine.

“Let’s never ever stop being friends. Ever.” Steve hums, fiddling with his soft sleeves, an anxious stim.

He knows Carol will be by his side, but sometimes he needs to hear it repeated, when his rsd flares up and he gets bad thoughts in his head.

Carol gets rsd too, and paranoia, which used to lead to some explosive arguments when they were younger kids without control of their big big feelings. Nowadays, they feel safe asking for assurance, and giving hugs, or making promises. Whatever it takes to show their best friend love is true without causing a fight first.

“I wasn’t planning on it, babe. I’m gonna be here forever. Even when you steal my boyfriend.” Carol laughs softly, making sure to tack on the end, just in case, “That was a joke.”

Steve could tell, but he appreciates it anyways. Better safe than heartbroken.

Speaking of, he wants to tell some of what he’s been thinking about when it comes to this whole confession, “Tommy has a big heart. He’ll be able to share.”

“You do too, honey. That heart in your little chest is bigger than your hair, and that’s saying something.” Carol teases him.

Steve throws his hands up defensively, “You told me big hair was cool!”

Carol pokes his tummy, a playful action Steve gave her permission to do whenever the impulse strikes, “Well, it seemed like you thought as much when Billy Hargrove got a perm!”

“I’m allowed to have a crush on three guys at once!” Steve rolls his eyes, before realizing what he said, and cupping a hand over his mouth.

Too late. Carol is beyond interested. Eyebrow raised, and a smirk on her lips, she asks him, “Three? Who’s the other one?”

“Nope. That secret is guarded with my life.” Steve turns up his nose to act guarded, but it’s useless.

Carol pouts and makes puppy eyes like nobody’s ever seen, “Oh come on, bubba. I won’t tell anyone.”

Steve hesitantly starts to think about it, “You gotta promise.”

“Cross my heart, pumpkin.” Carol makes the action, totally sincere.

Steve breaks, “It’s Jonathan Byers.”

And Carol actually squeals, “Awwww! Stevie, that’s adorable!”

“He’s dating Chrissy now, so don’t bring it up ever again.” Steve warns, half stern and half fond.

“I said I wouldn’t and I meant it.” Carol twists her hair around her finger, acting innocent, though she of course advises, “Buuut I also know for a fact that Chrissy Cunningham hasn’t been in a strictly monogamous relationship since highschool, so don’t talk yourself out of anything yet.”

They both laugh about it. Steve will ask Tommy out, and then he’ll settle down for a little while. Sure, this relationship business is serious, but this is a journey that’s going to take a long time, and Steve is just starting it out. Having all those partners isn’t something he has to worry about yet.

Though, thinking about it in reflection, he does start to get a little worried.

“Carol?”

“Yes, baby?” She asks right away.

Steve rubs the fabric of his sweatshirt in between his fingers, “How many boyfriends is too many?”

“That’s not up to me, sugar plum. I only got one.” Carol shrugs.

“Fiancé.” Steve corrects because he has to, additionally feeling the need to point out, “And two girlfriends.”

“Duh. My heart has all the room for them, so I might as well. But I’m done. I feel complete now, and three people is good enough for me.”

Her explanation makes enough sense, but Steve just doesn’t know what to do with it.

He has way too much love in his heart to understand it really, and trying to add limits just makes him feel weird. Maybe it’s the autism. Maybe he’s truly as freaky as everyone says.

“Wrong answer Carol. Didn’t you know I’m a sexless, unfeeling being?”

Carol doesn’t humor that kind of thinking for a second. She holds his hands, and looks him dead in the face, “Sweetie, your feelings are real, even if they show themselves a little differently. Loud hands and humming are your butterflies in the tummy.”

“Wait, you mean you can tell when I have a crush?” Steve realizes with a strange feeling.

“Sort of. But I’m a people reader, I notice everything.” Carol exaggerated.

A smile spreads on Steve’s face with a joke, “I get what people mean when they say neurodivergence is a super power.”

Carol fake gags at his joke, “Ugh, gross.”

Yeah, it is. Steve giggles, “I know!”

Maybe, Steve realizes from all of this, the best answer is that nobody needs to define him. He can do things his own way, be that friendship or falling in love, and he’ll be just fine, as long as he has his CeCe and his Tommy.

~~~~~

Alternate forms of communication can be ostracized, ignored, and discriminated against. That’s why today I’ve chosen to represent the I-ASC, or The International Association for Spelling as Communication.

I-ASC works for and with neurodivergent, nonspeaking communities to support all methods of AAC, but focuses on spelling and typing to communicate. Their approach is based in research and in working with disabled individuals and their families to find what is best for them.

Not only do they have a library of resources, they also offer training and lessons for both the nonspeaking individual and their family. I really like that the I-ASC takes the time to ensure that the disabled person understands and can utilize the method they are given rather than just choosing it for them and leaving it at that.

Personal stories from “spellers” who were helped by I-ASC talk about how they provided a community to the nonspeaking folks, and helped them feel less alone. So not only are they advocating for the human right of communication, but they are also becoming involved in our community and assisting in personalized ways.

Donations will help any nonspeaking individual access the programs and fund their education. They have an FAQ section on the website under the “Give” section where they detail ways to donate.

If any of this interests you, I’m providing a link to the site right here.

#disabledbillyandsteveweek #carol & steve #stommy #background jonssy #steve has crushes on billy and jonathan #trans steve harrington #trans carol perkins #autistic steve harrington #audhd carol perkins #my writing #ej writer

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greenhikingboots · 1 year

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How about 1, 29, 55, & 126 for the book rec ask game.

omg. why did my answer turn out so long!?! ridiculous. but thanks for asking, dot!!! thanks for letting me play. :) 1. a book that is close to your heart Little Women and Tuesdays with Morie. i grew up on the 90s version of the Little Women movie, which led me to read the book for the first time in 7th or 8th grade. i’ve read it several times since and love how much it makes me care about all four March sisters. i used to have more of a temper like Jo and long for nice things like Amy. and i thought it was nice how, as they get older, they didn’t lose who they are but they did get a little softer around the edges. i think even as a kid, that gave me hope. Tuesdays with Morie is another one i first read when i was pretty young (high school not middle school) and have several times since. there are some “zen” messages i still carry with me. here’s a quote as an example: “the culture we have does not make people feel good about themselves. and you have to be strong enough to say if the culture doesn't work, don't buy it.” honorable mention: Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with the Institution of Marriage. do i have that subtitle right? it’s something like that. it’s one of the first books i read that weaves social science research into a more personal narrative, and i really enjoyed that. some parts of this book stuck out to me enough to use as a framework when writing the ceremony for my wedding (friend officiated). but that’s personal enough i’ll keep the details to myself. 29. your favourite YA novel for quite a while, YA was all i read. so i feel like i should have a long list that i’m struggling to choose from. but most YA leaves me thinking, “great idea, but B- on the execution.” (saying that makes me feel like a snob but whatever, it’s true). i will stand by the first book in the Hunger Games series being great and worth the hype. i read it again a year or two ago and it is very well crafted. sharp characterization, great pacing, background information weaved throughout in just the right way. too bad the later books didn’t keep up. Elanor & Park was one a read after hearing about it a million times and worried it wouldn’t live up to the hype. i don’t remember it that well now, but i remember liking it even more than i hoped it would. one of the characters with poverty and abuse and i thought it tackled those issues in a believable, not-at-all-cheap-or-gimmicky way. i read The Spectacular Now because i really liked the movie. and while the main character drives you crazy after a while, i think that’s kinda the point. he’s a mess and needs to learn about growing up and being considerate of others. similar to Elanor & Park, i thought this book handled teenagers going through rough stuff in a believable way. 55. a book with a satisfying ending is it weird to say Gone Girl? the ending was frustrating for me the first time i read it, i guess because i wanted something happier. but it’s satisfying in that, upon second read, i accepted that the author knows her characters better than i do and she wrote an ending that made perfect sense for how unhinged and unhealthy they are. i also have to admit that as i get older, i understand Amy’s resentments more and believe Nick’s bullshit less. so even though Amy’s totally off her rocker and should, logically speaking, be in jail, i’m glad Nick doesn’t get a normal happy ending. it’s just so messed up its satisfying, you know? 126. your favourite spring read

interesting and timely question! unfortunately, i don’t tend to have seasonal reading habits. can i tell you what my dad’s answer would be? he likes a book called Vipers’ Tangle (google just told me it’s sometimes called The Knot of Vipers since it’s originally written in…. french, maybe? it’s from the 50s). its set around Easter, so…. i’ve tried to read it around Easter too, but i haven’t managed to get very far with it. if i had to choose something i’ve personally read…. maybe something by Brene Brown. ya know, non-fiction stuff about how vulnerability is actually bravery and people are built for deep connections and we have to be willing to take a little emotional risk to make deep connections happen. that sounds good for spring, right? growth!!

#book rec ask game

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forwithinthishollowcrown · 1 month

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ACOB headcanon:

This is for the anon that was concerned that the reds are leaning more blue. In my headcanon, the reds aren’t fighting specifically for the blue as a whole

Again, these are just ideas so you don’t have to like or agree with them all

• Daemon: just wants to cause chaos & take his revenge on Qyle & Qoren for what happened to Aemond and then he ends up being dragged into a conflict with Harwin & House Strong

• Alicent: wants nothing to do with anything and is just trying to look after everyone especially her younger kids. She tries to her best to keep her loved ones from escalating things & getting involved but ultimately fails

• Maegor: personally I think he’d be the reason people consider the reds to be neutral as he’s Daemon’s heir & eldest son. I don’t think Maegor would fight at all. He grew up on the Stepstones and watched how it transformed over the years. I think the first few years of his life were incredibly scary and violent due to the constant attacks & dangers the Stepstones faced. Even though it’s been years & things have improved (especially with the help of his stepmother), he knows that the Stepstones are still developing & whatever resources they have won’t last long against such old & wealthy & established houses like the Velaryons, Martells, etc. He’s also incredibly protective of Ceryse & presumably their children and I don’t think he’d want to risk their safety or their inheritance by dying in battle. Growing up, he overheard Alicent talking about the religious abuse she suffered but he probably overhead how after the death of her husband she was forced to remarry against her will & seperated from her children. He’d never in a million years want the same thing for Ceryse. In the character description it says Maegor is the most martial of Daemon’s son. So my headcanon is that Maegor, thinking ahead and realizing all the things that can go wrong in the war, doesn’t fight for any faction but instead stays at the Stepstones & raises the defenses & fortifies it the best he can. I got this idea from canon where the Iron Born take advantage of the war to raid the Westerlands. There’s always this fear of the Iron Born coming back to raid & I think Maegor and others in the Stepstones would have that same fear but of the Triarchy coming back to take the lands

• Saera: wholeheartedly supports her husband, Lucerys, who, as the heir to House Velaryon, obviously backs the Laena’s factions especially because his aunt Laena looked out for him a lot growing up after his father died & his mother remarried. Saera’s actually really upset when she asks Maegor to ally with them and he refuses because he is her only full sibling

• Elaena: initially agrees with Alicent & Maegor to not get involved but switches to the Blue faction after Viserys dies & she marries and has a son with the claimant for the blue faction, Aegon

• Ceryse: supports her husband & runs the day to day household duties of the Stepstones with her mother while Maegor is constantly checking on the islands perimeter & defenses & training of the soldiers on the island. She spends lots of time with her young children. Given her great intelligence, she also reads more and more books about historical battles & helps Maegor devise battle strategies and tactics.

• Viserys & Aemond: both pretend they don’t care at all about the faction but they’re both high-key stressed. They love their half siblings (Lucerys, Rhaena, & Joffrey). However, Viserys was pretty good friends with his cousin Aliandra growing up and secretly kept in contact with her after the eye incident. Aemond loves Aemma and doesn’t want her to stress out about him hurting her family especially now that she’s pregnant. Personally headcanon that Aemond is less bitter about his eye bc he has lots of loving familial support and he got a happy marriage & Vhagar out of it. (Side note, I know the way the eye scene and fight was portrayed in the show was incredibly tense and everything went down quickly but I still think it’s absolutely wild that the Velaryon/Strong boys didn’t even have to apologize for half-blinding him). They both initially agree to just chill out in the Stepstones but both sons feel obligated to go help their dad when they hear about his ongoing battle with House Strong

• Helaena: was completely caught off guard by the news that the war was starting despite her visions bc she’s been living happily and peacefully with Daeron in Oldtown for years completely oblivious to the growing tensions. Daeron goes to help his family but she decides to remain in Oldtown bc 1) she’s beloved by the people of Oldtown & her Hightower residents and knows they won’t let any harm come to her and 2) she’s not a fighter/warrior or strategist and she doesn’t care for politics or conflicts so she doesn’t want to get involved.

• Valaena: she’s really young when everything starts so her mother arranges for her to go & stay with her older sister Rhaena in Pentos far away from the conflict

So yeah, compared to other families the reds come off as more neutral. Daemon, Viserys, and Aemond’s main fight is against House Strong not the blues or the blacks. Saera & Elaena are for the blues. With his father and brothers either dead or away fighting, Maegor has to prioritize the Stepstones. Everyone else tries to stay the hell out of it and just look after their own

Honestly yeah the reds are just trying to survive at this point in time so their fights in the war are a lot more personal.

#keep the asks coming #a crown of bones

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deyadee · 2 months

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It Doesn’t Sink In Until You Actually Look in the Mirror

I feel like recently once been doing better compared to past years. I’d say I only have a complete breakdown like once a week to a month depending on how things are going. Though there’s still always a feeling at the back of my mind no matter what I’m doing air where I am that’s always scratching and clawing away at me. I have nothing to look forward to. I distract myself day to day with whatever mini arch’s going to get some comedy for the people who are still watching this late into the series, after the quality’s severely gone down and the plots are just getting reused from previous seasons. I don’t really know what kind of job I would want to do because I get bored of things so quickly, and any job I find that I do like I usually leave because I think I can do better money-wise. Though I never save up to move out. What’s the point? To speedrun my fucking depression? Because I know the second I’m completely out on my own for like a week I’ll blow my brains out. I try to pretend like I don’t need people, and I’m pretty introverted so it’s not like I always feel like I need to be around people- but that tends to make me spend what feels like weeks holed up in my room and slowly dying since there’s so little time to spend with the few people around me anymore. Parents are always working. Sisters have their own million things to do. The one friend I have I don’t have any money so I don’t want to bother if I can’t pay for anything that I would wanna do. So I wait for a time when something can happen, and I’m disappointed because everyone’s too tired and busy. I don’t blame them. For my last job I couldn��t do a lot because I was working a lot of the time. So now I dig my face in my phone and try to get through the day. I clean toys, fix my collection. I got a TikTok account and started making videos but now I’m just addicted to watching the numbers slightly go up. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten it but I fucking did with the excuse that there’s more MH videos on there or whatever. Still a fucking hypocrite as always.

But anyways- I know that once I leave my parent’s house there’s nothing for me out there. I feel bad for leeching off of them this long but I don’t have the money and I know on the little times I’ve been truly alone I’ve come seconds away from being another body bag. What is there out there? Exploration that I don’t want to do? Finding a job that ranges from hating it but gets enough money to get by or a job I like where I get paid like I work at McDonald’s? Wasting my time searching for some magical fucking unicorn of a girl to not think I’m repugnant and take me as her like fiftieth option only for us to end in loveless marriage where she’s fucking my friend because I have nothing to offer, if I CAN EVEN FIND A WOMAN? Maybe ending up in a loveless hetero marriage where I’m used as a fucking toy to some manchild before I gut myself? Having kids that I’ll want to strangle after having that little fucker destroy my body even further than I already have before they grow up to be a crack dealer before killing me and taking my last sixteen bucks? Building a collection that just gets me a small hit of dopamine for spending like $50 a day, only for some scum of the fucking earth to break in and steal it all? Care about politics for every single fucking brain-rotted 900-year-old to stroll up and pick the dumbest fucking decisions possible and send everybody back to the fucking Stone Age? Eat myself to death to get that last shred of dopamine? Care about my appearance for it to just continually get worse until I fit perfectly into everyone’s favorite little trailer trash trope? WHAT IS THERE TO FUCKING LIVE FOR?! If this is supposed to be the goddamn peak of my life both physically and emotionally and I’m sitting here staring at a screen and praying that I get 100 fucking people to sit and watch me play with dolls?

A random thought, but I rewatched Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron recently. It’s been one of my favorite movies since I was a kid but I don’t watch it often so I don’t get burnt out on it, so when I rewatched it the other day it felt like I was watching it for the first time. I was legitimately crying at the end because I love that movie so much. I pretty much never feel anything after watching a movie besides “Oh that was pretty good” or “That was bad.” This feeling I got in that moment was pure fucking bliss. I for once felt like life was worth living, like the world could be beautiful and people could make art so powerful that it actually changes you. I know, I know, it’s stupid. But my heart was soaring and I felt like humans weren’t actual hell for once. Life is precious and worth it and you can find the most brilliant amazing beautiful things in places where most people might not. I loved a lot of movies before, and I’ve always loved this movie but this time it felt like it hit me just perfectly. I’ve seen movies that made me feel a certain way, but I was full-on bawling afterwards out of joy for once. I couldn’t stop crying and smiling.

I still don’t know why I felt so happy after it.

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jasonblaze72 · 1 year

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Who Is Adam Sandler Married To? From Big Daddy To A Very Happy Marriage

All of us know that Adam Sandler has formed a great career and a net worth of around $420 million by entertaining people on Saturday Night Live and on the big screen for more than thirty years now. Most people don't know about his love life, and for the past 22 years, he has been enjoying a steady and calm romance with Jackie Sandler, his wife, who was previously known as Jacqueline Samantha Titone. Over the years, both of them have worked jointly, conveying a lot of sweet memories on the red carpets. But most of the time, Jackie keeps residing a low-key life. If you want to know more about her, you are reading the right article. This article has everything you need to know and what is the secret to their long-lasting marriage. Who Is Adam Sandler's Wife, Jackie Titone Sandler? Even if you cannot recognize her by her name, if you have watched Adam Sandler's past movies, then you will have no hard time remembering her as there is a high chance that you have already seen her in one of the movies. She was born in Florida Coral Springs, the daughter of Joseph Titone and Lila Titone was a cheerleader at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, and after graduating, she started her modeling career. She gained fame as a model and decided to choose a different path, acting. How Did Adam Sandler Meet Jackie Titone Sandler? Jackie's first role was in Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo, a 1999 movie. She only played a small part as Sally, but that path changed her career forever. The aspiring actress got noticed by Rob Schneider, a film star and friend of Adam Sandler. This directed Adam to cast Jackie in Big Daddy in 1999. Again the role was small, this time, she played a Waitress, but something significant happened in both of their lives, which was marriage. From Big Daddy To A Very Happy Marriage The movie was released in 1999; as mentioned above, she did not have a major role in the movie, so it did not boost her career as an actress, but it sure did change her love life forever. By the time people began watching the movie, Adam and Jackie were already dating and did not waste any time and looked straight into the future. In the same year, Jackie transformed into Judaism, and at this point in time, she was far ahead in her modeling career. She was getting a new role as Jackie Sandler. Her conversion to Judaism was a big thing for Adam Sandler, as he is very scornful of his Jewish origins. Since then, Jackie has been seen in many of her husband's movies, such as Grown Ups, Grown Ups 2, Just Go With It, Little Nicky, and 50 First Dates. In 2003 both of them got married in a Jewish ceremony at Dick Clark's Malibu estate, where they focused completely on their families. There were more than 400 guests, and among them, Sharon Osbourne, Rodney Dangerfield, and Jennifer Aniston were also seen celebrating their wedding. The couple welcomed their first kid in 2006, Sadie and Sunny, in 2008. The couple has been blessed with two daughters. The Secret To Jackie And Adam Sandler's Marriage Jackie and Adam Sandler have been with each other for the last 22 years, and their bond has been growing stronger every day. In July 2020, they both celebrated their anniversary; on Instagram, Adam wrote, "22 years ago today, we locked eyes and fell deep. Look forward to the next 22, young lady. Love you, my forever girl." Adam opened up about the secret of his wedding to Closer Weekly, and he said that it was as simple as it could be. According to him, it is just getting more time together. Make sure that you should not run for too long, hang out together, and tell the truth; this kind of thing is all good. In an interview with ET Canada, Adam said that it is also important to be honest and spend time with each other when you have a deep connection. He added you should know that if your husband or wife is not happy as before, then it is a good choice to talk it out and hang with each other; this will rock them up again. Read the full article

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threadbaresweater · 1 year

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What You Need

When you find yourself in the midst of a marriage in shambles, you find a way to ease some of the pain, no matter how temporary.

Tags/Content Warnings: Heavy angst, infidelity, reader is married and has children; reader has...questionable morals and unhealthy coping mechanisms; Kishibe is willing to help ease her pain with some casual sex; vaginal fingering, unprotected sex; Kishibe calls her babe, alcohol and cigarette use, driving under the influence of alcohol. Please let me know if I forgot anything! Under 18 please don't interact! (Yes, this is a repost)

He doesn't say a word as you slip onto the seat next to him. Dark eyes barely acknowledge your presence, and he throws back what's left of the whisky, gulping it down like it's water.

"Started without me?"

"You mad or something?"

You scoff as he signals to the bartender to bring two more drinks. "At you? Never."

"Got a little tied up with the kids," you say, toying with the corner of a cheap, papery napkin.

"Right. Thought we agreed not to bring that up."

Tonight, you'd rather not be reminded.

"Whatsa matter, you got cold feet?"

"It's your circus, babe. I'm just your monkey."

It's exactly what you need.

"Drinks with friends," you say.

"Got a curfew?"

You shake your head. "As long as I'm home before–" Before the kids wake up.

Kishibe catches it. "Tsk. Strike two."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry!"

He reaches over to lay a rough, warm hand on your thigh and gives you a meaningful squeeze. "Relax. 'S no fun if you're gonna be all pent up like this."

"Please," you whimper, muffled by the seal of his mouth over yours.

He pulls back just far enough to speak unhindered, lips bumping against yours as he breathes a reply. "Didn't think you were the type to beg."

He won't lie to you.

"You're really worked up, aren't ya?"

"Go on, baby. See what you can do with it."

"You good?" he asks quietly, just after your silence becomes uncomfortable for him.

You nod, your face buried in his shoulder, arms linked around his neck.

"Need a drink?"

"Bathroom's down the hall to your left if you wanna get cleaned up."

"Hey," he says. It catches you off guard, and you jolt a little, looking up at him with brows raised, bottom lip tucked under your teeth.

"What?"

"Why the long face? You had fun, yeah?"

"Yeah," you say, a breathless giggle bubbling over. You don't remember the last time you wanted something so bad.

"Then smile. You're hurting my feelings." His deadpan delivery is so on brand that you can't help but laugh as he turns away.

"Kishibe?"

He calls from the kitchen. "I'm thirsty. Make it quick."

"Can we do it again?"

You're still standing in his hallway, still clutching your pants. Still riding the high of what you've done, shoddy marriage be damned.

"It's gonna cost ya," he says, appearing in the doorway with a glass of liquor.

"I know," you say. I'm good for it."

#kishibe x reader #kishibe x you #csm kishibe #csm fanfic #chainsawman fanfic #hi hello i'll work on reposting some of my favorite stuff over the next few days/weeks

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riredrhodyblog · 2 years

Text

My Thoughts on Roe V. Wade

Trigger Warning: If you’re sensitive to sexual assault or rape, feel free to avoid this Blog. But PLEASE be aware that I don’t condone censorship of important topics, so I will never place an asterisk in words that speak the truth.

Even if it’s an unpleasant one. Quite frankly, I’m fucking sick and tired of both Conservatives and Liberals censoring speech:

Conservatives: “Don’t say ‘gay, Critical Race Theory,’ or anything that contradicts our agenda!”

Liberals: “It’s okay to talk about rape, sexual assault, suicide, etc. as long as you don’t use the words ‘rape, sexual assault, suicide,’ etc…”

Enough!! And now, with my preamble out of the way…

A Letter To All My Christian Friends:

I’ve told you that I’m beyond furious with the Supreme Court’s decision on Friday June 24th, 2022. And since most of you have responded with the usual…

“Well, abortion to me is murder… This ruling gave power back to each individual State…”

… I decided to explain why this infuriates me!

I’m angry because the Country-wide protection that has been in place for forty-nine years no longer exists.

I’m angry because poor people (as usual) are going to be the most affected. Not everyone can afford tubal litigation or moving to another State and many doctors won’t even perform the procedure.

I’ve spoken to women whose doctors had the audacity to tell them: “But what if your future husband wants children?”

What fucking century am I living in again?

I’m angry because a young woman on TikTok recently had to be transferred from one hospital’s ICU to another— AMA, I might add— because her doctors refused to treat her for blood clots in her brain. And why? Because she’s sixteen weeks pregnant and a non viable fetus is more important to them than her life and the two children she has at home!

Gone is the Hippocratic Oath… for some, I guess! This woman’s doctors literally didn’t give a shit if her two kids have grow up without her!

I’m angry because an eleven year old can be impregnated due to rape or incest and will be expected to give birth if she lives in a Red State. Again, some people can’t afford to move, etc.

I’m angry because, since Roe V. Wade was overturned (depiction provided by Philip DeFranco in his Monday PDS), SIXTEEN STATES have already outlawed abortion! That’s approximately SIXTEEN MILLION AMERICANS who no longer have reproductive rights!

And you can be sure that there’s more on the horizon!

I’m grateful to you, @PhillyD!

I don’t talk about this, frequently (or publicly), but I was sexually assaulted, on separate occasions, by both my father and my babysitter’s brother. I know what it’s like to feel powerless and I hate to see it happening to anyone else.

The bottom line is simple: Government, whether it be States, Federal Local… anything, has no business whatsoever dictating what ANYONE— specifically, in this case, women and Non Binary people with uteruses— are allowed to do with their bodies.

I understand you are Christian, Dear Friends, as well as Pro-Life. You have every right to be both of those things. But Republicans who share those values with you are trying to force those values down everyone’s throats and it’s not going to stop with the overturn of Roe V. Wade.

Clarence-remember-I-was-tried-for-sexual-harassment-Thomas literally said the Supreme Court was going after same sex marriage. Contraception and Transgender surgeries are soon to follow.

This is not hyperbole. Conservatives in positions of power have been trying, for literal decades, to regress the United States back towards a PRE-Civil Rights America. And now they’re succeeding!

Again, to all those who are Pro-Life and Christian: You have every right to be. However, YOU DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT to force this upon those who are Pro-Choice.

But that’s literally what’s happening right now. Separation of Church and State exists for a reason.

American needs Roe V. Wade! There are far too many who cannot afford the alternative. Abortion isn’t meant for birth control. It’s meant to protect US Citizens; as legally, safely, and rarely as possible.

Even as you’re reading this, Friends, I hope you don’t think I’m attacking you. You don’t have to agree with me. But I would have done myself a huge injustice if I didn’t elaborate more clearly than I initially did.

I love you.

#roe vs. wade #pro choice

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bxcketbarnes · 3 years

Text

My Betrothed

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Words: 1400+

Author's Note: Okay, so, I recently watched Crimson Peak and found this bloody gif. My god. 🥵 and wanted to write a Loki fic on it. Now, I'm gonna have two of them! One that's pre-avengers, which will be this one, and one that's post-avengers! I hope you enjoy 🥰

Your eyes meet Loki's from across the room and you give him a small wave. A smile comes to Loki's lips and waves back to you. A giggle leaves your lips as you take a sip of your champagne. King Odin and Queen Frigga are currently celebrating their two children. The Princes of Asgard. You're slowly dreading when Frigga announces the two women who are going to be betrothed to Thor and Loki.

You've had feelings for Loki since the two of you were kids. The raven-haired man was never really invited along with Thor and his friends, leaving him to his own devices in the palace. That's when Loki met you. You're the light of his life and if he could choose who he wants to marry, it would definitely be you. Frigga noticed the affection Loki had for you almost immediately, since she is the Goddess of Marriage. The only thing is neither you nor Loki knows about the other's feelings.

Loki walks across the ballroom and gets closer to you, seeing your eyes trained on your friend as you intently listen to her speaking. The raven-haired man can feel his heart pumping in his chest as he grows closer, deciding that he's going to ask you to dance.

A smile comes to your friend's lips as her eyes are looking over your shoulder. You furrow your eyebrows, wondering what she's looking at and you glance over your shoulder to see Loki standing behind you.

"M'lady," he greets with a smile, holding his hand out to you.

A blush covers your cheeks and glances down at his open palm. "Your highness," you mumble while standing up. You gently place your hand on top of his and Loki brings your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

Your cheeks heat up more as your heart pounds against your chest. You've never seen this side of Loki and you're not complaining, but your heart won't take much more before he's ripped away from you.

"May I have this dance, darling?" He asks and you chuckle, nodding your head in reply.

Loki leads you onto the dance floor, his smile never faltering as you rest your free hand on his shoulder. The two of you begin swaying to the music, your eyes staring into one another's the entire time. You felt like the world around you slipped away as you and Loki danced.

"Who do you think your mother chose for you?" You suddenly ask and Loki looks down at you with a small frown.

"We shan't worry about that. This is about the two of us," he mumbles and you nod slowly while taking deep breaths. You rest your head against his chest, feeling the coolness of his metal armor beneath you.

"You'll always be my favorite, Loki," you whisper and Loki smiles softly, his hand on your hip squeezing you gently.

The Prince's eyes meet his mother's, seeing the look of admiration on her face. "And you, mine, darling."

Odin gathers everyone's attention as the song finishes and Loki slowly pulls away from you. You can see the sadness in his eyes as the mighty All-Father calls his two sons up to join him. His blue eyes meet yours for a few seconds as his hand slowly drops from yours.

You swallow the lump in your throat as your friend stands beside you, her hand coming into contact with your lower back. "It'll be okay," she whispers to you and you nod your head in reply.

Frigga walks up to her husband, laying a hand on his shoulder before taking over. "I thank you all for coming tonight. It's a big night for the Princes of Asgard," she smiles as everyone in the room begins clapping. You cross your arms over your chest, your fingers fiddling with the fabric of your dress. "First, I'm glad to announce the betrothed for my firstborn, Thor Odinson…"

You clap with everyone else as one of your mutual friends gets her name called out. You smile softly as the blonde runs towards the God of Thunder, seeing his face light up before collecting her into his arms.

Your eyes meet Loki's once more, giving him a pained grin as Frigga gathers everyone's attention once more. "And now, the betrothed for my second son…" she trails off and you almost debated leaving the ballroom so you didn't have to hear who it was. "Y/N L/N."

A sudden gasp leaves your lips as you grab a hold of your friend’s arm, squeezing tightly. Me?! She said my name?! You think to yourself as Frigga motions for you to come up to them.

Your heart pounds a million miles a minute as you walk towards them, not believing that this is happening. You can see unscheduled tears in Loki's eyes as both of you feel incredibly grateful for her decision. "Thank you," you whisper to the Queen and she grabs a hold of your hands, smiling widely.

"You bring so much happiness to Loki there was no way I couldn't pick you, darling."

You and Loki excuse yourself as the raven-haired man leads you to his chambers. Your heart's beating wildly in your chest as you're beginning to feel nervous. The man glances back at you and gives you a soft smile, squeezing your hand gently.

"Nervous?" Loki chuckles softly and your cheeks blush, hating that he can read you like a book. "Don't be nervous. It's just me, darling."

You smile softly at the God as he opens his chamber's doors before motioning you to head inside. You lean on your toes as you begin to walk past him to press a kiss to his cheek.

Loki's hands grip your hips as he presses himself against the back of you. A growl leaves his lips and he kicks his door shut before you feel his teeth nibble against your neck. Your eyes roll back into your head, suppressing a moan as Loki leads you to his king-sized bed.

"Lok-"

The God spins you around and you let out a gasp before his lips connect with yours. Your hands move to his hair, combing your fingers through it as your tongues dance with each other.

Loki cradles your face in his hands as you suddenly spin him around before pushing him onto the bed. You pull away from him and his blue eyes look up at yours, seeing the lust and admiration in his eyes. Your fingers graze along his well-sculpted cheekbones as Loki's hands glide along the back of your thighs.

"I love you," you whisper while kneeling on the bed, feeling his silk sheets against your legs.

You drape one of your legs over his, getting comfortable beside him. "I love you, darling," Loki whispers against your skin. His free hand pushes your dress off of your shoulders before dragging his lips across it.

"Can I…?" You ask in a whisper while bringing your right hand down to his crotch. Your other hand gently stroking the back of his neck.

Loki shivers under your touch as his left-hand grabs a hold of his sheets. "Go ahead, my love," he breathes out as you undo his pants.

The raven-haired man rests his forehead against your shoulder while his other hand strokes your back. His eyes flutter shut as you reach into his pants before grabbing a hold of his cock. You can feel your cheeks blush as you slowly jerk him off, not believing that this is actually happening right now.

"Feel good, my king?" You whisper and Loki lets out a moan.

You can feel his lips against your skin as your fingers go into his hair, gripping it in your hands softly. "So good, my queen," Loki breathes out while you begin to stroke him faster.

Loki leans back a bit before kissing you once more, your eyes fluttering shut while moving your lips against his. Butterflies twirl around your stomach as your betrothed bucks his hips up, thrusting himself in your hand.

He suddenly pushes you onto the bed and hovers on top of you. You breathe heavily as you look up at him through your lashes, your hands slowly trailing down his chest. "Make love to me, Loki," you whisper softly while adjusting the dress you're wearing, wrapping your legs around Loki's waist.

Your betrothed smiles at you before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips as his hand glides up the outside of your thighs. "With pleasure, darling."

Taglist: @poweredbyghostadventures @valentine5sos @deephideoutmilkshake @noisynightmarefest @albinoclifford @jessalyn-jpeg @suchalonelysunflower @maddz-world @queen-of-mischief

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swinterr · 3 years

Text

fic rec vii ♡

hi!

this is a another new set of fic rec and i’ll probably do a compilation of genre (?) just like the first ones.

read and support the fic and authors here: the fic rec ♡

made some changes like tidying up a bit and adding summary, for those that doesn’t have any summary i’ll try my best to add my own summary (it will probably be shit tho, i ain’t making a smut summary guys, i’m not confident in my describing a fic ability but i’ll try my best. if its in italic it means i made the summary hehez ) if the summary is shit, i made it okay.

a for angst

f for fluff

s for smut

// for series or list

kpop oc/s

1. jane by @baejiyeonz

2. bee by @purpleyellow

3. lian by @nct-lian

4. taehui by @jeontaehui

nct

sungchan

1. [10:47 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

haechan

1. [5:21] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

2. you’re warm by @dreamystuffers | f

- a drunk hyuck can only mean a clingy hyuck.

3. you’re short too by @pastelsicheng | f

- 5 times hyuck teases u for ur height.

4. no title by @heychan | s

- dirty thought cockwarming haechan and johnny comes in to the room while you are trying to hide it but haechan doesn’t care.

5. wishes by @lucaswithnoshirt | a f

- standing on stage is everything you’ve dreamed of. except in the time it’s taken you to get there, you’ve been dreaming about other things, too.

jaehyun

1. moving in: the series by @jaehyun-ified | f

- after agreeing to move-in with jaehyun, you decided to curate a little series on your channel to both give in to your viewer’s request to have jaehyun frequently on your contents and to document your moving in process with the love of you life.

2. [8:14 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

3. boyfriend by @simpsiren | a

- a relationship with jaehyun wasn’t always perfect. there wasn’t a definite label on it, which only sent the relationship down a complicated pathway as we tried to find the meaning of our love once again.

4. best part by @okayoongii | f

- don’t know how to describe this tho, just read it. also 10/10

5. can i help you? by @sugarjaee | f s

- when working an extra long shift at work, your boyfriend surprises you with a visit.

6. stages of love by @biletdoux | a f s

- a playlist for the trials and tribulations of a beating heart.

7. [9:04 am] by @jeongvision | // f

- domestic fluffy blurb. 10/10!!

8. suds by @kim-taehung | s

- first person to move does the dishes for a week. nothing is off-limits.

9. promise by @bvbyxuxi | f a

- jaehyun has loved you since you were both kids, things were going well until he messed everything up; meeting again as young adults, he refuses to let you go again but would you give him another chance?

mark

1. one minus on plus one by @wonjaekook | f a

- in all of the years you’ve known jungwoo, you should have figured out to not take his words at face value because, though you haven’t even met, mark lee seems to hate your guts.

2. [12:03] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

3. pretty boy by @epinebleue | f a

- fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, the reader is two years older than mark, jaehyun makes an appearance as the reader’s fuck buddy, use of alcohol and drugs (marijuana), mentions of violence (mark punches someone), smut (protected sex, inexperienced!mark, dry humping).

4. camera flash by @morkleemelon | f

- mark taking a picture but forgot to remove flash waking up oc, pretty fluffy and cute! 10/10!!!

5. retrouvailles by @kireimarkeu | f

- counting down the days until you finally see your long-distance boyfriend.

jungwoo

1. [1:14 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

johnny

1. man-icure by @haejunehui | f

- based on jcc ep. 26

taeyong

1. reverb by @lovingonrepeat | s

- taeyong + studio sex.

2. unspoken by @bvbyxuxi | f s

- you had never thought to see taeyong again after your one night stand with him until this year where he takes you by surprise; turns out he wasn’t the guy you sought him out to be after all.

ten

1. [2:32 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

lucas

1. [4:31 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

2. king of hearts by @raibebe | f s a

- a little bit of everything, a chef’s kiss.

yuta

1. [5:51 pm ] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

doyoung

1. redamancy by @heavenlyhaechan | f

- this is just so fluffy! i wished to be doyong gf please.

2. fools together by @yongiefilms | f

- two fools in love with each other?

3. acedia by @jaeminscoffee | f

- a day in the life of yours and doyoung's love life.

4. our little secret by @haejunehui | f

- read to know their little secret. hehe.

5. caught red handed by @hannie-dul-set | f

- all you wanted to do was take a picture of the handsome law student during your train ride home. you did not expect things to end up like this.

jeno

1. i see red by @0097linersb | s

- pure filth 🥵10/10 tho.

2. addiction by @love-mi | s f

- you and jeno keep your relationship a secret to avoid backlash from your companies and fans; but keeping himself away only makes him want you more.

3. surprise visit by @nakamotonudes | f s

- you hadn’t seen your boyfriend for over a month because of his hectic schedule so when he suddenly shows up at your place one night for a surprise visit, you both have to make every second worth it.

bts

jungkook

1. the pitter-patter of the heart by @koorara | f s a //

- pieces of newlywed domestic moments with jungkook, your husband. the young film and literature lecturer and his wife, you, who works as a journalist of a web magazine. both of you managing the career, the time for each other and the new house. not to forget, chip, the cat that has been with you for years.

2. please love me by @ahundredtimesover | // f s a

- as the only unmarried jeon and kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. but despite developing an affection for jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. you’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.

3. first love, last love by @floralseokjin | f s //

- a collection of drabbles following the longterm relationship between jungkook and you...

4. second chances by @parkhabits | a s

- work. one of the most important things to him. It kept him company at night, it was all he thought about, all he put his attention to. his work had become the mistress within your marriage. years after you left him you’re back with only one goal in mind. get him to sign the damn divorce papers. yet you should’ve known that your husband wouldn’t let you go that easily.

5. crush by @jungxk | f s

- jungkook woke up with amnesia (?) he totally forgets that he has a wife and child. and he totally has a huge crush on his wife.

6. bare necessities by @gguksgalaxy | f s a

- when you ask your boyfriend for a relaxing vacation you don’t exactly expect him to take you to disneyland out of all places. luckily, jungkook knows just how to get you to relax — being needy is definitely not the way. or is it…

7. krampus for christmas by @ddaenysus | f

- when your daughter overhears your nightly activities close to christmas, jungkook takes it upon himself to convince her it was the sounds of the legendary demon goat.

8. a date with destiny by @imjustfanfictrash | f s

- you are a boss lady in the tech industry traveling to world for work. he is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

9. stranded by @gguksgalaxy | f s a

- jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. his entire presence is unwelcome. you don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. it’s annoying — he is annoying. from the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. nope, you definitely can’t stand him.

10. sprout by @v-hope | f

- after a nice evening out with your friends, you find yourself coming home to your sleeping toddler and the new hairstyle she had tried on your husband.

11. friday nights and take-out by @ahundredtimesover | // f s a

- you meet pop star/idol jeon jungkook at the café, you get close, and as hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. but you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

12. jealousy by @ephemeralkookie | f s a

- jungkook’s closest friend, namjoon is getting married and he invited you three to his wedding. the only unexpected thing was jisoo, his ex, and we’ll just say that you were not too happy to see her flirting with your boyfriend right under your nose

13. a quarter past us by @jjiimin | f a

- when you break up with him out of fear of losing your freedom in university, he finds himself showing you why leaving him isn’t the answer.

14. pretty boy by @angelguk | // f s a

- alternatively known as the jock!jk universe drabbles in vague chronological order.

15. summer solstice by @boulevardk | s

- down on your luck and desperate for a successful harvest, you pray to the gods. you figure no one in heaven was listening to your prayers when nothing happens immediately. but one fateful night, your prayers are answered. are you willing to pay the price? the sacrifice might not be what you were expecting….

16. lilac wisteria by @blushoseoks | f a

- over the years, things change - but the one constant is your love for lilac wisterias.…okay, maybe jungkook’s been there too.or, alternatively:the first time jeon jungkook says that he is going to marry you, you are five years old sitting underneath a large wisteria tree.

17. obsessed with your ass by @kooklovesu | f s

- jungkook has an obsession with your body he cant get enough of praising you. he wasn’t comfy showing the world his affection towards you in public because he’s a private guy, but when he finally did, good luck.

18. from home by @gyukult | // f s a

- jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class?

19. black card by @minsprings | // f s

- black card fic and drabbles, also a chef’s kiss.

20. oh my god, they were (quarantined) roommates by @ot7always | f s

- what do you do when you’re quarantined for months on end with jeon jungkook - s tier cuddler, workout robot, and thirst trap extraordinaire? fuck him, you guess.

21. let the games begin by @venusiangguk | s

- just another fic where oc rides jk in his gaming chair pls still read it tho lmao its hot i promise

22. the probability of us by @jiminrings | f s

- jungkook’s the son of the university’s president, y/n’s cardigan is everyone’s favorite, and adjacent walls mean shared victories.

23. open when by @iluv-hobi | f

- jungkook likes to write letters to you, especially ones with purposes, like “open when ___”. one day, on a particularly bad day, you open, “open when you’ve had a shitty day”.

24. good day by @ilikemesometaetaes | f s

- his motive was made quite clear once he called you out of work. he just wanted to spend a nice day with his girlfriend. is that too much to ask for?

25. calculated by @whatifyoulivelikethat | // s

- some people would call you far too serious. some would call you stuck-up. and some would call you a bitch. but to freshman jeon jungkook, you’re the head calculus I TA noona – and he’s determined to fuck you.

26. brat taming by @sugasbabiie | s a f

- jungkook has been your roommate for almost a year. since the day he moved in he has acted like nothing but a spoiled little brat who is used to getting anything and anyone he wants. he eats your food, he doesn’t clean, he’s loud, oh and now he has colored his hair the exact shade of blonde as you. He’ll do anything to get under your skin. you’ve had enough of his filthy mouth and his fuckboy ways. it’s time to tame that bratty little roommate of yours. think you can handle it?

27. sugarplum energy by @bymoonchild | f s a

- you know no bounds nor depth with jungkook. while your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on soundcloud. all’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. or, jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.

28. ancient history by @moononthejoon | a s f

- there is no way to deny that you and jungkook have chemistry. the two of you used to be a couple, after all. what happens when after a not-so-amicable breakup the two of you are cast as opposite leads of a movie?

29. that’s not daddy by @nochuobsessed | f

- jungkook comes home with a new hair color and his sons can’t tell if he’s appa or not. pretty cute! 10/10

30. no title by @himbojk | s

- jk got a blowie from his oc while on a zoom class meeting, like cam on with a whole set up but his oc under the table sucking the life out of him while he sits and tries to take notes .

31. dilf jk by @himbojk | // s f

- dilf jk drabbles.

32. no title by @himbojk | s

- blond jk with full tattoo sleeve who looks like the baddest boy but is actually baby and just wants a handie in the library while studying with his oc because she aspires to have those high grades.

33. no title by @noteguk | s

- bf!jungkook going down on the reader while they watch anime.

34. silent treatment by @blu-joons | f

- baby kook asking daddy kook to say sorry to mommy. 10/10 too!

35. getting railed by @dearlytea | s

- getting dicked by your boyfriend during a train ride.

36. the view by @koyamuses | s

- jungkook knows exactly what turns you on; every kink, every dirty fantasy that’s buried deep within your mind. he knows exactly how to make you beg for it.

37. let’s play: dirty by @jungkxook | f s

- on today’s stream, watch as the king of gaming jeon jungkook gets totally pwned by some newbie player on overwatch (he swears he was stream sniped)! to make matters worse, he can’t seem to focus anymore when you’re in the room but he promises that’s not because he’s in love with you or anything. use code ‘jungkook’ on any game purchase through steam at checkout for 25% off so that jungkook has something to feel better about! iloveyou btw!

38. more dilf!jk by @cutechim | s

- oc thirsting over jk, talk about finances, jungwoo is an innocent cock-block as infants are, disrespect towards a major film franchise.

39. you are inherently beautiful by @ggukachuwu | f a

- when y/n and jungkook accidentally reveal their relationship to the public because she walked in on him doing a vlive and now netizens and kmedia are tearing apart her appearance because y/n is chubby from struggling with pcos. jungkook takes it upon himself to cheer her up because he absolutely adores her.

40. morning with jk by @min-arya | f

- jungkook drabble of him catching his s/o admiring him in the morning with soft sleepy cuddles.

41. even a forest fire dies out by @9uk | a s

- it became from “grab a coffee with me?” to “why should I grab a coffee with you?” too fast for your liking. you had thought the both of you were so in love with each other—only to realise it was only you who had fallen into this trap of feelings. and as for jungkook, he might have just been as confused as you are.

42. all that we had by @starlightauroras-writes | a s

- four years, two months and five days ago, you lost the love of your life with no explanation. living with a failed marriage at such a young age without knowing why was impossibly hard, and when you’re invited to your high school reunion, knowing he would be there, you really don’t want to go. what happens when you do leaves you questioning fate.

43. aquarium by @whatifyoulivelikethat | // a

- life after jeon jungkook was grey. you had to find your own color, grow your own rainbow. but what would surprise you the most is the appearance of white cosmos, seven of them clutched tightly in kim taehyung’s hand.

44. contentment by @btsqualityy | f s

- oc’s using jk’s card to buy rug and the rest is history. 10/10!!

45. heartbreaker with a heart of gold by @filmflowersbangtan | a s

- love this!!! you know i love me some angst! 10/10!!!!!

46. the ikea test by @mercurygguk | f

- you and jeongguk face the IKEA test. successfully? sure!

47. before you universe by @ephemeralkookie | // a f s

- jungkook has taken a huge place in your life after he tattooed you, and you can’t even picture how life was before him. he has always been there for you since day one. but how will things change after you find out you’re pregnant?

48. christmas cream(pie) by @smoochkooks | s f

- a day before christmas dinner with your boyfriend’s parents, you discover another alternative way to use the chocolate cream you’re making. jungkook is more than willing to indulge in your little fantasy.

49. last minute by @moononthejoon | f s

- christmas day had gone by, and now you were back home after holidays with your family. your friends had agreed to have a late christmas party, but as always, you and jungkook procrastinated gift buying.

50. you go in knowing bros together by @blu-joons | f

- a cute fluffy knowing at knowing bros moment.

51. no title by @v-hope | f

- the way y/n would react when someone else flirts with jk and how he’d handle the situation.

52. hair dye by @mercurygguk | f s

- jungkook got his hair dyed while at work. you lose your mind the moment he steps through the door.

53. stay gold by @yeojaa | s

- blond!jk being a good boy?

54. crystal snow by @honeyj00ns | f

- when you join Jungkook and the rest of the guys for some fun in the snow, he can’t help but feel jealous.

55. 6:21 am by @sincerelyourfangirl | f

- in which he makes your morning extra special.

56. plan b by @btsracket | s

- dressing room quickie, unprotected sex request, use of Plan b pill

57. possession by @bngtanah | s

- jungkook is your boyfriend, sometimes you have to remind him what that means.

58. puffs and touches by @mintseesaw | f s

- “Stop doing that with your face, someone else is going to snatch you up”

59. the quiet things by @btsracket | s

- sleeping bag sex.

60. good boy by @ephemeralkookie | s

- secret, read to find out AHAHAHHA.

61. make it right by @jungkxook | a s

- you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

62. it takes two by @junghelioseok | s

- struggling with the idea of your ex-boyfriend moving on, you enlist the help of your quiet roommate in a scheme that quickly spirals out of control.

jimin

1. picking petals by @cutechim | s

- you asked for a baby, so a baby is what you’re going to get.

taehyung

1. daddy by @btsracket | f s

- there’s only one choice when this happens on a date out.

2. love me or we both go down by @gukyi | f s a

- after going through with an arranged marriage to please his parents and secure his inheritance of the family business, kim taehyung thinks he’s got it all figured out. he doesn’t. apparently just being married to you isn’t enough, not when everybody and their mother can pick up on the fact that the two of you absolutely loathe each other. but taehyung wants his inheritance one way or another, so he decides that desperate times call for desperate measures: the two of you need to fall in love, and you need to fall in love fast.

3. saudade by @jiminssthetic | a s f

- a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it’s time to find out why.

4. ineffable by @99liners | f

- boyfriend taehyung takes care of his sick s/o.

5. tease by @caiuscassiuss | s

- you knew you were hot. you saw how the guys looked at you, how their eyes were drawn to a tight t-shirt or short skirt. and maybe this would fail epically—crash and burn like a failed experiment—but you wanted to get under kim taehyung’s skin the only way you knew how.

6. aquarium by @whatifyoulivelikethat | // a

got7

yugyeom

1. yugyeom as you boyfriend by @sunshinekookie | f

- i need more yugyeom fics in my life.

astro

eunwoo

1. rainy say saviour by @imsarahbum | f a

- upon seeing you getting bullied after school for being short, dongmin can’t help but step in and defend you - despite both of you not really knowing anything about each other.

anyway, thank you again for the writers please take care and be safe!

please free to recommend your favorite fic that i haven’t feature yet.

if the links won’t work and i labelled some fics wrong please let me know and i’ll try to fix it as soon as possible!

support the fic and the writers!

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annabethy · 3 years

Note

hi bestie !! 11 “I never thought I’d fancy you…and yet here we are” pls 🥺🥺

In which Percy and Annabeth don’t meet in the best of circumstances, but then time goes by and he can’t imagine life without her,, percabeth

When Percy first meets her, he’s fifteen years old, and it is not at all what he would consider a pleasant experience.

He’s forced to sit next to the blonde girl with sharp grey eyes on the first day of freshman year. Her name is Annabeth, he quickly learns, and she is the complete opposite of him. Where he’s sloppy, she’s precise. She’s the first to raise her hand in class while he’s the one hiding his eyes from the teacher’s, and when she points it out to him, a mocking grin on her face, he decides right then and there that he wants nothing to do with her.

They don’t really talk for the entirety of the year, excluding the jabs she takes at him when he gets a quiz back marked in red while hers is pristine. He prefers it that way — silent — and by the time the end of the year rolls around, he’s not at all disappointed to discover that she’s not going to be in any of the same classes the following year.

He almost forgets about her, really, until he walks into English literature on the first day of senior year and spots her sitting next to the only remaining seat.

Percy almost walks right back out of the room, tormented by the idea of having to spend his last year of high school next to the girl with scary eyes, but then she locks eyes with him, and something tells him to sit.

He slides into the seat next to her and is surprised by the slight smile she shoots at him.

“Haven’t seen you since freshman year,” she comments. Her voice has changed a lot, he notices, and as he takes the rest of her in, he realizes that the rest of her has too. Her hair has grown out and seems to be tamer, and her face seems more defined than he remembers. Other parts of her are definitely fuller as well, and he has to fight back a flush as she laughs at him struggling to form an answer.

“I guess it has been,” he manages to answer.

Annabeth leans over the side of her desk, and Percy feels a little bit lightheaded at the smell of her perfume. It’s the same one as before. Maybe she hasn’t changed so much. “You look like you want to bolt.”

“Only a little bit.”

She leans back again, humor in her eyes. “I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

Percy isn’t really sure how to respond to that. As far as he had been aware from the things he’s heard, Annabeth was still a very prickly person, but sitting next to her now, she couldn’t seem further from that.

“Well,” she says when he doesn’t answer, “I guess it’s a good thing you’ll be sitting next to me then. I wouldn’t want you thinking I’m still a dick.”

“I didn’t say you were that bad,” Percy points out, finding his voice again. It’s hardly his fault. Annabeth’s really pretty. Maybe she always has been, but now that she’s not at his throat, he feels less shame in seeing it. He can’t breathe.

She shrugs, though she doesn’t seem insulted. “Yeah, but you didn’t need to.”

From there, he isn’t entirely sure how it happens. They quickly become friends, and Percy finds he enjoys her company. She’s really funny, and she’s not at all how she was a few years ago. To be fair, he’s sure he’s making it easier. He’d be the first to admit that he probably wasn’t the best person to sit next to either a few years ago when his hyperactivity was at an all-time high.

They become what some may call best friends, and it’s pretty awesome.

Still, as awesome as best friends is, it doesn’t take all that long for them to become more than friends either.

One second, they’re at his house putting together a presentation on Shakespeare’s Sonnet 19, and the next second, they’re on the couch, Percy’s hand sneaking under the back of her shirt to feel her warm skin while she kisses him senseless.

It’s hot and heavy, and it’s only been two months since they’ve reconciled after three years, but it’s also perfect, and he wonders how he’s been missing this for so long.

Annabeth pulls away after a couple minutes to rest her face in the crook of his neck. She’s breathing hard, and Percy is too, but he’s much more focused on the way his lips tingle, yearning to feel her pressed harder against him again.

She lifts her head to look at him, and Percy falls distracted by her eyes. They’re the eyes that he used to hate as they’d tease him, but now, they’re the same eyes he gets excited to see every day for fifty minutes in class. They’re the same eyes he thinks he may be just a little bit in love with at the moment.

“You’re so pretty,” Percy blurts out. He doesn’t even realize he’s said it until she’s giggling, close enough for him to feel the small breaths against his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Mh-hm.” Percy’s nose nudges hers, but he doesn’t kiss her. “Like, really pretty.”

“I think you’re pretty cute yourself.”

Percy doesn’t know that he’s ever heard someone else say that to him, and now he doesn’t need to. Hearing Annabeth Chase call him cute is about all he’s ever needed in life. He tries to bring them back to where they were a few minutes ago, but Annabeth settles a hand on his shoulder to stop his efforts. He doesn’t mind, since she doesn’t seem to be upset by him. “Thank you,” she says, “for sitting next to me. I really thought you were going to turn around and ditch just because you didn’t want to sit next to me.”

“And miss this?” Percy presses a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Never.”

“I really like you,” she whispers. “And… I’m just really glad you’re my partner in class.”

Percy can’t help the grin that slides across his mouth. “I really like you too.”

“Not as much as I like you.”

“Oh yeah?” Percy tries to kiss her properly this time, and she lets him. He kisses her until he’s out of breath again, and then some more, before he pulls away. “Then date me.”

Annabeth laughs, but it’s not a condescending one he would’ve expected three years ago. It’s funny how much things have changed from when they were both fifteen. He never would’ve thought he’d be an eighteen-year-old with Annabeth tangled up in his lap, asking her to be his.

“Date you?”

Percy smiles softly, and Annabeth matches it. “Be my girlfriend.”

Annabeth’s fingers move under his chin and she lifts until his eyes lock on hers. It just feels right. Against his lips, she says, “I’d love to.”

And that’s how it starts.

It spirals out of control from that point on. He falls deeper in love with her with every day, and so much surer that this is how it was meant to be. He feels so much flooding through him every single time he looks into her eyes, and he doesn’t know how to express just how much he loves her. He doesn’t think that words could ever describe it.

Percy doesn’t try to explain his thoughts at first because he just doesn’t know how to. He doesn’t try until it’s the last week before they graduate, and they’re sitting on top of a building staring off into the New York skyline as the sun begins to set.

“This is beautiful,” Annabeth says. They sit together on a ledge, still far enough to guarantee their safety. She’s sitting between his legs with his arms wrapped around her waist and head resting on her shoulder. It’s a bit cold outside, so she wears his jacket.

Percy thinks it’s beautiful too, but for more reasons than just the skyline bursting with pinks and golds.

“It’s nothing compared to you,” he whispers into her ear.

“You big sap.”

“Only for you.” Percy kisses the edge of her ear.

Annabeth sighs, and Percy tightens his grip on her. “I still can’t believe it.”

“Believe what?”

“That we’re graduating. We’re leaving high school together when on the first day of high school, we wanted nothing to do with each other.”

Percy snickers. “Yeah, but it adds some spice to our relationship.”

“I hardly think we need any more spice,” she says, teasing.

Percy hums deep in his throat, content as she snuggles deeper into his arms to protect against the biting wind. “Probably not.”

Annabeth’s silent for a few minutes, and he wishes he could know what she’s thinking.

“Can you do me a favor?” she asks, so quiet he almost misses it amongst the New York hum.

“Anything.”

“Tell me a secret.”

“A secret?”

“Just — something you’ve never told me before.”

“I tell you everything already.”

“Just something you’ve never said.”

Percy doesn’t even have to think. He already knows exactly what he wants to say, so he leans in close to speak into her ear.

“I love you.”

Annabeth laughs and rolls her eyes fondly. “That’s not something you’ve never told me.”

“Then I’m telling you again.” Percy kisses her neck, a soft brush of his lips. “I’m just a little bit in love with you.”

“Just a little bit?”

“A lot in love with you,” he corrects.

“That’s better.”

“And…”

Annabeth tilts her head back against his chest to look up at him. It’s so cute he thinks he may explode.

“I never thought I’d fancy you,” he admits, “yet here we are.”

She grins. “I was an awful fifteen-year-old.”

“If it led us to now, then I’d do it a million times over,” he tells her. “And you weren’t that bad.”

Annabeth makes a sound of disagreement and brings a hand up to brush against his cheek. “Can I tell you something now?”

“Go for it.”

Annabeth blinks slowly, and Percy realizes that the sun is almost set as the night takes over. “I love you.”

“You just told me that wasn’t a secret,” he says, playful.

“Let me finish,” she chides. “I love you, and I’m giving you everything I have, so… don’t change your mind on me.”

Percy knows he couldn’t possibly change his mind on her. She’s it, he knows, and it’s exactly how it should be.

He sees a future with her. He sees marriage and kids and growing old together. His future is written with Annabeth Chase, and his mind is made up.

“Change my mind on you?” Percy laughs once and brings his lips to hers. “Never.”

#percabeth #percy jackson #pjo #annabeth chase #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Note

Ok so I've been coming back here to reread all of your work and I never get tired of it (the NSFW alphabet one is low-key my favorite one 👀) and let me tell you that you're one of my favorite writers and love all of your work.

You don't have to do it if you don't want to, but do you have hc of how Billy Russo would react/ be when he finds out that he's going to be a father? Based on your NSFW alphabet you did for him, you described him as a (extremely) sweet and caring person and I couldn't help to think about how he would be if he ever had a kid of his own.

(Once again, feel free to ignore this if you want to or feel uncomfortable doing it. It's a thought that hass been in my head for a while and wanted to get it out of my system lmao 😂)

First off, thank you! I really appreciate that 🥺🖤🖤🖤

Also, I love talking about headcanons, never worry about asking me about them lmao

So I just wanna say since I did write a multi chapter series about how Billy walked away when he found out that like, the idea for that happened because the first part, his letter to you, is what came to my head. And I wanted to write something sad and angsty. I feel like he's much more likely to stick around in all honesty but the boys got so many issues who even knows loool

But I just wanted to point that out because this will be different and I don't want people to be like; 'But Thalia... you did a whole thing where he left...' 😂

So yeah lmao

Remember, this is my Billy. AU, still bros with Frank Billy 👀😂🖤

I've split this into a few scenarios because I feel like there would be small differences depending on the context.

One night stand:

You had a one night stand with Billy. An amazing, ruin you for other men, kind of one night stand. But then you found out you were pregnant and went to Anvil to tell him. Of course when you turn up there he has no idea the bomb you're about to drop on him. Instead, he gives you a filthy smirk as you enter his office.

"Couldn't stay away?"

When you tell Billy you're pregnant, there's a long moment where he just blinks at you and you're pretty sure you might have broke him.

He cycles through a million and one emotions before it settles on a mix of sheer terror, shock and happiness.

He tries not to get offended when you blurt out that you'd understand if he didn't want to be part of his baby's life. He didn't want his kid to grow up feeling like he didn't love them. He's not his mother.

You're not offended when the first words to leave his lips are asking if the baby is definitely his. Its a valid question since you'd slept with him just hours after meeting him in a bar.

He tells you he wants to be there and of course he takes care of all medical bills and even tries to convince you to let him buy you a better place to live. Somewhere closer to him so you and the baby will be close by.

It wasn't planned or expected by any means but he wants to be there.

Casual sex/friends with benefits:

Billy comes over expecting to get some great sex and instead has you thrusting a pregnancy test in his hands. You're scared and upset and have no idea how he'll react. You've been sleeping together for a while but been friends for longer than that. His commitment issues are exactly why you're worried.

He sits down and stares at it, letting his brain try to absorb the fact he's going to be a dad. He feels the shot of anxiety run through him, wondering if he can do it. What kind of dad could he be? His own mother never loved him, would he be capable of loving a child?

But he knows the answer is yes. Because despite not even being in a relationship with you and this coming out of the blue, he feels excitement welling inside of him and he doesn't even realise he's smiling at the test in his hands.

When he looks back at you, sees how scared you are, he feels a pang of something in his chest that feels an awful lot like panic. He asks what you want to do, scared of the answer you'll give him. But of course you scoff and tell him you're keeping the baby.

Relief and happiness flood his body then as he gets up, hugging you tightly and stroking your hair.

"You don't gotta worry. I'll take care of you both, I promise."

And he means it. Once again he pays all the medical bills and he shockingly tells you he'd like to make a real go out of what you two have.

He buys a house for you and the baby but doesn't pressure you about him living there too. He let's you set the pace for what's happening between you.

Relationship/marriage:

He cries. Like a lot. Planned or not, the news has him weeping like a little girl. You're living together so he notices when you're feeling unwell. Notices that you haven't had your period since he normally gets you ice-cream and also gets you pads and things if you need them. He doesn't say anything though until you do.

So he gets the test for you. The pair of you sit on the bed after you did what you needed, a timer on his phone. The test is on the dresser across the room. Both of you are silent. Overwhelmed by what might happen. He really wants it to be positive. (If this wasn't planned then when you told him you might be, he started to really think about it and found he wanted a baby with you).

When the timer goes off you both jump up comically but hesitate near the dresser. Billy ends up being the one brave enough to look. You watch his reaction for a moment and you're startled when his eyes water, the way he looks at you with a beaming smile as the tears fall without him even noticing.

"We're havin' a baby!" He grins like a mad man, picking you up and twirling you around.

He's so excited that the second your feet hit the ground, he's on the phone to Frank telling him the news. Still crying, mind you.

Once he's made his phone calls, he tells you the penthouse is being left behind. He's buying a house near the Castle's for your new little family.

Both he and Frank fix it up and decorate it.

No matter which scenario it happens:

Billy goes to every appointment with you, every ultrasound. The first time he sees his baby, he cries. When he finds out if its a boy or girl, he cries. When he first feels the baby kick, he cries. When the baby's born, he's a mess. He attends every class with you and reads all the books he can get his hands on. And of course he asks Frank for advice about anything and everything.

He frequently talks to your bump, regalling the baby with tales of his life or reading from a book. He takes good care of you, anything you need, he gets you. You want pickles and a donut at 4am? Don't worry, Billy's got you. You need crazy good sex because the hormones are driving you up the wall? Billy's got you. You're sobbing because you feel like a beached whale and none of your clothes, even the pregnancy ones fit you? Billy's there. Telling you that you're absolutely beautiful. Radiant even. He gets one of his guys to buy you a bunch of clothes that fit and he cuddles you until you feel better. He dotes on you constantly, always calls and texts if he's not with you to make sure you're okay.

When you go into labour, he's there holding your hand and cheering you on the whole time. And the second the babys there, he's sobbing and smiling like an idiot. When he first holds his baby, it's a feeling he's never felt before. He feels complete in every way. So full of love he just might burst from it. And while a tiny part of him grieves for the baby version of himself that didn't seem to ever have that, he's overwhelmed by the pure happiness and love as he gazes down at his little ones face.

"Shit... you're so perfect."

He vows to be the best damn father he can be and the baby will never feel unloved for even a second.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo imagine #billy russo headcanons

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juniorgman187 · 3 years

Text

Things We Know By Heart (Spencer Reid Fluff)

Summary: Reader teaches Spencer how to slow dance in preparation for his wedding. The only problem? Reader’s in love with Spencer, and she isn’t the bride.

A/N: S/O to Kyla who bullied me throughout all of elementary school. Ik you’ve probably changed since then, but you literally traumatized and tormented me for more than six years of my life. So I felt like including you in this story as, “Kayla,” Spencer’s fiancé. Tehe, I’m petty like that. Couple: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Fluff Word Count: 6.5k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I think we’d all like to believe that somewhere out there is our person. And somehow, someway, they’ll get to where they need to go, right where they belong.

With us.

That’s what I’d like to believe.

I’d like to think that no matter what happens along our journeys to each other, we’ll arrive at the same destination regardless.

But that isn’t necessarily true, is it?

Because maybe, my soulmate got lost along the way. They met somebody great, someone they think is their person, and they married that person. They had kids and eventually, grandkids with that person, even though, deep down - they knew it wasn’t right. They stayed with them anyway because their fear of being alone superseded their fear of being with the wrong person for life.

And what am I to do when that happens? When my person finds a different person.

Am I supposed to believe that the universe will be so kind as to give my soulmate the courage to leave their relationship behind and forge a new one with me?

Am I supposed to expect that the world will supply me with another person, the person I’m supposed to marry?

Or do I simply wait for my person to come to the conclusion that they’re meant to be with me after all and my naive entitlement to a soulmate is validated?

Is life really that magical?

This is the story of what happens when your person loves a different person.

∙•○⦾☉☼☉⦾○•∙

With his hand at the nape of my neck to support my head and his other hand flat against the small of my back, he dipped me backward, leaning with me as I arched my back and bent the leg closest to the crowd, pointing my foot to elongate my leg artistically. This was our ending position so I remained in it until the song ended. The two of us bowed to thank the audience and to conclude our performance. Roses fell at our feet while the sound of applause echoed in the room. I was never a fan of being the center of attention, but there was something about this overwhelming praise that was particularly blissful. It was intoxicating.

“I didn’t know you knew how to dance like that.” I gushed to my partner; my cheeks growing pink from the heat and the head rush I got.

He positioned his mouth right beside my ear so I could hear his words clearly over the rowdy cheering. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Princess.” said Morgan.

A gauntlet formed to clap for us both when we walked off the dance floor. Hand-in-hand, Morgan led me back to the table through the double file line of people. The team howled with excitement when they saw me and Morgan approaching.

“So this is what you two were keeping a secret from us? That you’re dance partners?” JJ had to ask.

“Yep. All those late nights and secret rendezvous.” Morgan said, shimmying his shoulders be suggestive of a sexual innuendo, which I was not a fan of. Out of mock offense, I chucked a small towel at him with a grouchy command to “Shut up!”

He took the towel to the face like a champ, laughing it off and dabbing his sweat away.

“I don’t know who was sexier up there - Princess or my Hubba Hubba!” Garcia squealed pretending to claw at Derek, reeling him over towards her.

“You looked like a natural up there, Y/N. Were you a dancer before?” Prentiss questioned while handing me a glass of water that I desperately gulped down.

“My mom sent me to dance classes as soon as I could walk.” I jokingly explained after gathering my hair into a makeshift ponytail and lifting it off of my neck, cocking my head to the side and fanning the back of my neck to cool down.

“Maybe you should teach Reid how to dance before the wedding. He’s got two left feet and I don’t think he wants Morgan to teach him how to waltz.” JJ quipped, making Derek throw his head back in laughter. The thought of Morgan and Reid slow dancing would truly be something - something hilarious. I laughed, too, until Reid’s voice interrupted me.

“Yeah, that’s actually a really good idea. Would you mind, Y/N? Kayla would be so happy.”

I thought he was joking, but his humorless expression told me otherwise.

“You want me to teach you how to dance?”

He pursed his lips and nodded, not understanding why I was so confused.

“Um . . . yeah. I can do that. Sure.” My tone wasn’t very convincing, but Reid’s optimism made him oblivious to my reluctance. He smiled and hugged me with one arm around my shoulder.

“I have to call Kay and tell her the good news.” Reid dashed away from the table, pulling out his phone to dial his fiancé.

I darted toward JJ with fury and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her into the bathroom for privacy.

“What the hell was that? ‘Oh, Y/N, you should teach him how to dance.’ You know how I feel about Reid!”

Rather than giving me hostility back, she broke into a smile. “Exactly! If you spend more time alone with him, maybe he’ll finally admit to himself that he shouldn’t be marrying Kayla,”

I rolled my eyes and turned my back away from her.

“We all know Spence would be happier with you.”

As JJ spoke, I trudged to the nearest sink, holding onto the sides for stability as the ground below me swayed. She followed me, rubbing up and down my back comfortingly.

“You know how he is. He keeps things to himself, until eventually they’re forced to come out. If you dance with him, maybe he’ll finally tell you he loves you without actually having to say it. Do this for him . . . and for you.” JJ gave me one last pat on the back before exiting the bathroom to leave me to my devices.

Normally, teaching a friend how to slow dance in preparation for his wedding would be sweet. It’d be a selfless gesture and an act of service for him that would show how much love there was in our friendship. In this case though, it was anything but.

For the six months that Spencer and Kayla had been engaged, the team was relentless in trying to end it. I tried to stay out of it in case all hell broke loose, but I couldn’t escape it. No - I was at the very center of it.

Before Reid even knew Kayla existed, he was head-over-heels in love with me. He’d ask me on coffee dates, wait by my desk for me, and he would always try to sit beside me at the round table or on the jet. It was sweet, really, but it could never go anywhere.

I was in a committed relationship with my high school sweetheart Patrick. (Maybe Spencer had a thing for unavailable girls).

I moved in with Patrick after graduating from college, and after years of working in the BAU (and years of Spencer loving me) Pat proposed. At first, being engaged brought me so much joy, but halfway into our engagement, something changed.

I was in Wisconsin, consoling a grieving widow. She was hysterical after I delivered the treacherous news of her husband’s gruesome murder. She eventually calmed down and proceeded to ask me about my engagement when she noticed my ring. I gave her the bare minimum, fabricated a couple things here and there, but then she asked me the million dollar question.

“Are you in love?” Her eyes glimmered with hope.

My immediate answer was a habitual “Yes, of course.” But after seeing how deeply this widow loved her late husband, I couldn’t say in good conscience that that answer was actually true.

That night I went to the hotel and lied on the bed, praying for clarity.

Perhaps I wasn’t actually in love with Patrick. Maybe we’d been together for so long that it just felt safe and comfortable and familiar. Maybe it was the fear of disrupting the arrangement of my life that stopped me from ending things sooner.

The fact of the matter was that I’d only ever known a life loving him, but that didn’t mean I was in love with him. Maybe I was settling for something with Pat, because I wasn’t sure if I could have a better relationship with anyone else. With all these doubts, I needed a sign.

A knock on the door interrupted my inner dialogue.

When I opened it, who else was standing there, but none other than Rossi.

“We need to talk.” He ordered.

He followed me back into the room and sat at the foot of the bed. He said he noticed something was off about me, and I admitted that there was. So that night, I took advice I probably shouldn’t have from the man with multiple failed marriages, but it was a sign - and it was good enough.

When we returned to Quantico, I asked Hotch for some personal time, which he was happy to permit. That same night I went home and broke off the engagement with Patrick.

I felt despicably cold when I watched him tear up and ask me, “Why are you doing this?”

There was truly no concrete moment in our relationship that incited my decision, but it was merely the realization that being with him wasn’t right, because how could I stand there watching him beg for a change of heart but still feel nothing?

Maybe I was much less than not in love. Maybe I didn’t feel a thing for him at all. Not hate. Not empathy. Not love. Just . . . nothing.

Completely indifferent.

Within the week of personal time I took, I spent most of it moving into Rossi’s guest house. After I came back from work, it took all of two hours before someone brought up the absence of the ring that I used to never take off, and I’d assumed they’d already noticed it the moment I walked in - they were just too afraid to ask.

“I ended things with Patrick.” I casually stated, not even looking up from my portfolio to give it the attention it probably deserved.

While the rest of the team’s jaws dropped on the floor, Rossi was fighting a smirk considering this wasn’t news to him and having seen everyone else’s reactions was a priceless moment for him.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence on the jet as the team processed my information, until finally Hotch cleared his throat and started debriefing again. In the seat next to me, Spencer was very poorly hiding his enthusiasm. Hearing I broke off the engagement was like a green light to make his move. And honestly, it was.

So I waited.

And I waited.

Then I waited some more for him to jump at the opportunity.

But he didn’t.

He never did.

Instead, he introduced Kayla into our lives, and eventually, they’d get engaged, too.

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t developed feelings for Spencer while I expected him to act upon his palpable affection for me. And because of my newfangled feelings, I could never tell another soul that I sincerely believed Spencer got engaged just to spite me - to show me just how painful unrequited love was.

The strangest part of it all, though, was that there was never a moment following the ending of my engagement and the birth of his own that showed me that his feelings went away. He never treated me differently or stopped talking to me. Even in the early stages of his relationship with Kayla, he continued to act like I was the only girl in his life. He was so consistent with his actions that it confused me.

Did he love me or not? And was I in love with him or not?

Evidently, the team seemed to have my answer.

“He loves you and you love him. It’s as simple as that.” Prentiss explained curtly.

Agreeing nods came from JJ, Morgan, and Garcia, who’d abducted me as soon as I exited the elevator that morning and snuck me into Garcia’s Bat Cave for an intervention.

“We need to stop this wedding.” Garcia demanded.

And since that glorious intervention, the team (minus Rossi and Hotch because Rossi seemed genuinely happy for Reid, and Hotch would definitely tell us it wasn’t our place) began trying to put a wedge in the relationship. I, however, made the smart choice not to be involved.

If I was trying to get him to love me, why would I do something that would surely make him hate me like breaking up his engagement? Plus, the blind optimist in me believed that if I was actually meant to be with Spencer, it would happen regardless of Kayla.

So anytime Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, and Garcia suggested something, I refused to participate. I was able to steer clear of any wedding crasher shenanigans up until JJ’s “slow-dance” suggestion.

If Reid knew the true intentions behind these dance classes, he surely wouldn’t be pleased, but clearly - he didn’t. Because when I walked out of the restroom and back to the table, Reid still had a huge grin that took up half of his face, making his eyes look nearly shut.

“Thank you again for doing this.” Reid beamed.

“Of course! What are friends for?”

Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia exchanged satirical glances at my choice of words.

What are friends for if not to purposefully set two people up in hopes of ending one person’s betrothal?

∙•○⦾☉☼☉⦾○•∙

Later that weekend . .

“Come in!” I called out, buckling the ankle strap of my heels.

The door opened partially and then all at once to reveal the one and only. I peeked my head out from behind a wall that was obstructing my view of him, immediately noticing a bouquet of lavender wrapped in twine.

“Oh my goodness, what is this?” I asked in pure delight as he handed me the pretty purple flowers.

“It’s a thank-you gift for agreeing to help me.” His lips formed a thin straight line, which was his version of a smile. A smile I appreciated whenever I was lucky enough to have caused it.

“They’re lovely, thank you.” I told him, hugging him briefly before fetching a vase from the kitchen to put them in.

“Oh, good, I’ll tell Kayla you liked them. She’s the one who picked them out.”

The glass vase nearly shattered the moment he said that, but luckily, my reflex skills spared the vessel.

How big of a fool was I for thinking that he gave me flowers out of the kindness of his heart because he knew lavender was my favorite? But then again I probably needed that brutal reminder of why he was here in the first place - for Kayla.

As I put the vase on the kitchen island, I spun around, brandishing a fake smile.

“So we should probably get started. I don’t wanna keep you here for too long.”

“There’s no rush. Kayla won’t be home until late at night.”

I tried not to think of the potential innuendo that lied within his statement, but Spencer wasn’t type to be disloyal, and I wasn’t going to be the woman to make him such a person.

“You look really nice, by the way.” I heard him say from behind me, catching a whiff of his cologne that was intoxicatingly sweet.

I did my best to not take the comment personally and let it get to my head, but I’d be lying if it didn’t elicit any response. I smiled to myself, which thankfully, he couldn’t see since my back was towards him as he followed me into my backyard.

“You smell different.” He added.

“Good different?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Is it a new perfume?”

I furrowed my brows. “No, it’s the same one I’ve been using for years.”

“Interesting,” I could feel him taking in this information, and I could hear the gears in his head turning at an even faster rate to spit out more information. “Did you know that you pick your soulmate by subconsciously reacting to pheromones that transmit their genetic compatibility? Yeah, there’s a relationship between attraction and scent, which dates back to our primal instinct. So if someone smells appealing to you, even if you don’t know it, it could relate to your attraction to them and vice versa.”

“Ah, then maybe I should consider changing my perfume to improve my love life.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I love the way you smell.”

In the back of my mind lied the unanswered question I neglected to voice, “But do you love me?”

When we reached the backyard, I heard him gasp in awe.

“It looks beautiful, Y/N. You did great.”

Nestled in my backyard was a dark wooden deck, surrounded by plentiful greenery. Lining the perimeter of the shiny wooden deck were asymmetrical rocks, while above us hung strands of fairy lights that cast a sheer golden glow on the entire scene. The ambiance was not for Spencer specifically, but I was happy that he appreciated it nonetheless.

“You ready?”

He signaled yes by putting his thumb up and so it began.

“Alright, so slow dancing can be broken into four easy steps, but first, you gotta know how to hold your partner correctly.”

Spencer and I took a step towards each other, and I could feel the nervous energy radiating off of him. I tried not to call attention to it, so I simply continued with my process. Outstretching my arms to form a T with my body, I guided him verbally.

“So I’m the follower. And you’re the leader. Got it?”

He nodded.

“Leader puts their right hand under the follower's left armpit and cups their hand around the follower's shoulder blade.”

He understood my instructions, and in the most awkward manner possible, he fumbled his way into the right position, albeit, not perfect.

“Now, hold my right hand as high as my eye level without raising my shoulder.”

Spencer was glaringly anxious, so I gave him a word of encouragement. “Hey, don’t be nervous. It’s just me, okay? And you’re doing great.”

I could see the nerves beginning to settle, translating into the conviction with which he took my hand, raising it at the perfect height.

“Great. Just like that.”

My praise brought out that smile in him that only ever came out on rare occasions. The kind where it’s brief, his teeth showing, a light chuckle escapes him, and he’s looking down as if he’s too shy to look at me.

“Okay, step two is basic footwork. Leader starts with their left foot and takes a step to the left. And then your right foot is going to meet your left foot and tap. The count is one-two.”

I watched as Spencer tried to process what I was saying.

“Do you want me to demonstrate first? And then you follow?”

He nodded rapidly as if saying yes wouldn’t be enough to communicate how much he needed me to lead. We broke apart so that I could turn my back towards him. I felt a cold draft blow under my dress as I spun on the ball of my feet, making my skirt flutter upwards majestically.

I felt him watching.

“Alright, so I’ll start and then you can catch on. It goes one-two.”

Left foot step. Right foot tap.

“Then three-four.”

Left foot step. Right foot tap.

“Then to the right this time. Five-six.”

Right foot step. Left foot tap.

“Seven-eight.”

Right foot step. Left foot tap.

“And back again. One-two. Three-four. Five-six. Seven-eight.”

My eight count continued until the click of my heels on the patio was joining by the sound of Spencer’s feet shuffling behind me. I knew if I turned around to check on him, it would only psych him out and make him more nervous, so I stayed facing forward so he wouldn’t feel that I was scrutinizing his technique.

After a minute or so of following me, I spun back around, catching his lingering stare in the region of my hips. He tried to play it off and pretend he wasn’t, but I felt it.

“You did really well tonight. I’m proud of you. I think that’s a good place to stop for today.”

He thanked me with another hug, the kind where we nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck.

God, I could feel him breathing on my shoulder.

I tried not to not to let myself indulge in it, reasoning that this was just a way for one friend to thank another, but I couldn’t help myself when the hug lasted longer than it should’ve. I tightened my embrace around him, drawing him in closer, and shutting my eyes as if taking my sense of sight away would heighten my sense of touch and magnify this feeling I never wanted to end.

“You take care, okay?” I said, rubbing my hand up and down his back to signal we should pull away, a signal he understood.

I was the first to walk away, merely because of the worry that I might sooner cry if I had to stay under these lights with him a moment longer.

I wasn’t sure I could do this again unless he was mine. Otherwise, I’d just be under the stars, dancing with the love of my life that I couldn’t have - feeling that feeling again, and not being able to act on it.

Is this what happens when your person loves somebody else?

∙•○⦾☉☼☉⦾○•∙

I know I said I couldn’t do it, but I did it anyway.

I guess that’s what love is. Doing things you don’t want to do because your care for the other person surpasses the discomfort. True love makes you do things like that, even if they aren’t in your best interest.

When he came over the next night, we danced again. Undoubtedly, he stumbled - even came close to falling - and yet, I fell in love all over again. After that, it got harder to separate dancing from my feelings.

The next day, we had a case. He came to my hotel room and we danced in the dim golden light of the hotel room’s chandelier. God, it was so ambient and romantic, I think I fell even harder for him - if that was even possible.

From then on, every time we were in the same place, he leapt at the opportunity to dance with me.

“Guys, look what I learned last night! Come, Y/N! Come on, come on.”

He waved me over eagerly with his hand, even helping me out of my seat in the round table just to speed up the process. All too excitedly, he assumed the leader’s position, and he danced me around the entire conference room in front of our coworkers. He spun me around the table, he dipped me in the doorway, he held me in his arms by the glass board.

Can you really blame me for falling in love?

“Wow, Y/N! I’m impressed. You really whipped him into shape.” JJ remarked with a clap.

I hid behind a faux smile, but Spencer was too elated to recognize the deceit. He was like that now. Maybe love made him more of a fool, more naive and blissfully unaware, whereas love made me more devoted and cognizant.

It went on like that for weeks. Practicing whenever and wherever we could.

He’d pull me into the hotel lobby at midnight to dance - not even batting an eye at the looming presence of the receptionist.

He’d ask me to come to his apartment and we’d dance in his living room or in the narrow hallway, just for fun.

When we were at Rossi’s, he’d drag me to the kitchen, with Rossi’s gentle music playing in the background, and we’d sway by the fireplace sometimes.

We danced once in the elevator when it got stuck. I never thought he’d be so fearless to do that, but he looked like he was genuinely enjoying himself, almost like he didn’t even notice we were stuck in an elevator.

While we waited for the jet, we’d danced on the tarmac, looking like a moving bundle of clothes, our movements stifled by our thick peacoats, layers of clothes, and scarfs.

After a dinner during cases, when we’d split a cab back to the hotel, he’d get me to dance on the sidewalk, even convincing me not to pay attention to the onlookers on the street, the honking cars, or the confused pedestrians. I was always embarrassed to be in the spotlight, but somehow with him, it was easy. It felt like it was just the two of us, dancing under that streetlight.

I never understood why people wanted to live in a moment forever, but for the first time that night, I did. That was a moment I wanted to freeze in time. I wish I could’ve stayed there forever. There in that moment, it really felt like it was our own little world. It was easy to believe we’d end up together, and we were the ones getting married, and we were in love.

But again, that was in that moment. In that singular, fleeting moment. And then life moved on, whether or not I was ready for it to.

The day of rehearsals inevitably came, and I wasn’t originally supposed to be at the wedding rehearsal since I wasn’t part of the ceremony, but Spencer asked me to be there, deliberately neglecting to tell me that the reason he wanted me to come was so that I could fill in for Kayla, which had I known that, I would’ve certainly declined.

When I walked in, the team was all there, sitting in the pews, with their heads turning to me where I was standing at the entrance of the church. It felt like an eerie nightmare that I was living out where I was Spencer’s bride walking down the aisle, and this was our wedding. I couldn’t tell you what was so nightmarish about it - probably because none of it felt right - but I was sick to my stomach when Spencer gestured for me to meet him at the altar.

“What’s going on?”

“Kayla had a last minute dress alteration in Norfolk and got stuck in traffic. She won’t make it for this rehearsal, but she’ll be there in time for the dinner rehearsal.”

“So why am I here?”

“I wanted to practice my vows on you, if that’s okay.”

I gulped hard, trying to swallow the lump in my throat to open up my suddenly-closing airway.

“Um, I don’t really know if -”

“Please, Y/N. I’m just nervous that I might mess up-”

How could I say no? True love makes you do crazy things, even if they aren’t in your best interest, right?

I reluctantly agreed.

Spencer’s hands were trembling and I could see it by the way his notecards were shaking, even from the fact that he brought notecards alone, and that he didn’t already memorize his vows. I wanted to put my hands around his and hold them to settle his unsteadiness, but I knew that wasn’t my place. I figured my words would do a better job at not crossing a boundary that was already crossed.

“Hey,” I comfortingly whispered. “It’s just me, okay?” Calling back those words from the first time we danced months ago. “You don’t need those notecards. Just speak from the heart.”

And sure enough, his heart spoke.

“When people used to tell me stories about what love felt like and what is what, they always said they fell in love with that person. Like it was sudden and all at once, but with you - I walked into love with you. With my eyes wide open, choosing to take each and every step along the way. I never believed in fate or destiny, but after I met you, I finally believed. I believed that we are only fated to do the things that we’d choose anyway. And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality. I’d find you and I’d choose you.”

My breath hitched as I got lost in his eyes and how they were looking right at me, completely unmindful of the way everyone around us saw how he spoke to me.

I think he even got lost too, because what he said next, didn’t even seem to register in his mind before it came out of his mouth.

“I love you . . . Y/N.”

Gasps rang through the church, ricocheting off the high ceiling, and in that moment I knew, I knew he was going to kiss me.

He lunged forward in the heat of the moment. Clearly not thinking straight, he held my face in his hands, and I swear to God, I could’ve kissed him back.

I would’ve.

“Spencer?”

Every single head in the church turned toward the small voice, too distinct to misplace.

“Kayla, wait!’

And there I stood, alone at the front of the altar, watching him run after her.

∙•○⦾☉☼☉⦾○•∙

I sat by my phone the entire afternoon, waiting for someone - anyone - to update me. No one ever ended up texting or calling, so I figured the dinner rehearsal wasn’t cancelled. At least, in that case, my dress didn’t go to waste.

After spending an ungodly amount of time curling my hair and putting on my makeup, even achieving a smoky eye look, I finally slipped on my navy-blue, satin, floor length dress, donning nude heels and a dainty gold necklace with a single diamond pendant that laid right on my sternum.

It was a shame that this was a moment where I should’ve felt at my prettiest, and yet, I’d never felt so ugly.

I was riddled with the guilt of knowing I would’ve kissed Spencer if Kayla hadn’t walked in. I felt even worse that I was so consumed by his speech that I didn’t even hear her come in.

How long had she been standing there? Long enough to watch what I knew everyone else saw? These questions never left me. Not even when I pulled into the site of the dinner rehearsal.

Clutching the front of my dress to walk without resistance, I came to the entrance, and opened the door to reveal . . . nothing.

Staff was removing chairs and tables.

Waiters were collecting plates and utensils.

And Spencer was standing in the very middle of the empty room, watching it all happen silently, like he was just the shell of a man.

“Spencer!” I called out from the entrance, in no hurry to meet him at the middle of the room. He turned on his heels, with his hands sheepishly shoved into his pockets.

“Gosh, I’m sorry, Y/N. I should’ve called to let you know it got cancelled, but um, Kayla broke my phone.”

“Well, it’s time you got a new phone anyway.” I chuckled, which thankfully earned a chuckle from him, too.

“What happened, Spencer?” My voice was quiet, as if it was any decibel higher it would sound more like a scold than genuine concern.

“She, um, she told me she needed some time to think. And I, I told her to come to the rehearsal dinner if she still wanted to get married and,” He mirthlessly chuckled. “Well, you already know.” His words were chosen carefully to deliberately avoid what he hadn’t yet come to terms with.

She didn’t come.

I wasn’t yet sure whether or not to console him or to berate him for what he almost did, but I chose the former.

“I’m so sorry, Spence.”

He looked up from the ground, still managing to avoid my gaze, by looking up at the ceiling, and pretty much everywhere my face wasn’t.

“I understand if you want to leave right now. I just need to pay the owner and I’ll be out of here.”

I shook my head instantly. “No, I’ll be right here. If you want me to be.”

He bit his lip to stop a sob from escaping. “Yeah,” He nodded, cowering his head. “I’d like that a lot.”

As soon as I saw his cheeks get red, I took it as a cue to approach him and hug him. He was grateful for my compassionate touch, immediately opening up his arms to hug me back. His embrace around me was needy and desperate, and it felt like he was clawing at my dress, acting out of anger that the fabric was stopping us from being that much closer.

With his shoulder digging into the spot right underneath my chin, it was hard to utter the words, “You look really handsome, by the way.” I said, finally acknowledging his light beige suit and white button up shirt.

“Thanks.” I heard him mumble into my shoulder.

“Kayla doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

To my surprise, he didn’t recoil, flinch, or so much as react to her name. Instead, he simply pulled away, wiping the moisture under his nose, and straightening out his suit.

“We should . . . we should probably talk about what happened earlier, right?”

I sighed and shook my head. “Not if you don’t want to. We can save that conversation for another day.”

He looked appreciative of my avoidance, but I knew he wanted to talk about it.

“Hey, excuse me,” He stopped a staff member by clutching their arm gently. “Do you mind, actually? Leaving two seats behind.”

The staff member complied, doing as he said, and leaving two chairs behind, setting one right across from the other. I took my seat, and Spencer took his.

“I probably shouldn’t have spoken from the heart, huh?” He joked, finally seeing the humor in his situation.

“No, it was good that you did.”

“You think so?”

“Definitely. I think Kayla would’ve appreciated it.” All too quickly he responded with, “I wasn’t talking about Kayla.”

I was talking about you, his somber eyes said.

I looked away from his gaze immediately, trying to find a reprieve from the conversation that I was doing my best to avoid.

“It was a really good speech. It sounded so natural. Like something you knew by heart.”

“Something I knew by heart?” He didn’t seem to understand what I meant.

“Yeah, some things we just know by heart. Like the lyrics to our favorite song, or a recipe, how to dance,” We both chuckled at the reference. “Or . . . how to love.”

“Do you think we know who to love by heart or do you think we make that choice ourselves?”

“I think it’s both. I think we can’t control the person we’re meant to love. That, by some miracle, we’re handed this person that complements us better than anyone else. But I also think it’s our choice on whether or not we pick them. Maybe we aren’t willing to stand the test of time and wait for our person, so we don’t pick them and settle for someone else. Or maybe we do pick them and we live out the rest of our lives together. I think that’s what makes love so special. It’s a person choosing you over and over again.”

Isn’t that what we all want? To feel chosen?

“And what if we make the wrong decision? What if we’ve met who we’re supposed to love, but we chose to love another?” His eyes were searching within mine for the words that I wasn’t saying out loud. Out of fear that my eyes might expose me to Spencer, I looked away.

“I think -”

Spencer cut me off. “Look at me.”

My head didn’t move, but I shifted my gaze just as he wanted.

“When two people are meant to be, nothing and no one can end them. They may get lost a time or two on their journey, but true, real love will always conquer. Nothing can compete with them. Others can only attempt to fill a void. And eventually, the two will be reunited. That’s the beauty of true love; you always end up with the right person, at the right time, regardless of any other factor.”

Quiet fell upon us two after I said my piece. My breathing slowed down and the knot in my stomach came undone. The lump in my throat disappeared.

All my bodily barriers broke down. There were no more emotional walls up between the two of us anymore. I was completely vulnerable - nothing to hide me. Not even my eyelids could hide the windows of my soul. Spencer had already seen into them.

He saw my soul, my secrets.

“Dance with me.” He extended his hand in the air between us two. With no hesitation, I accepted his offer and followed his lead. He’d never danced so naturally before. Somehow, his stiffness had withered away. The thick tension that used to loom in the air above us two dissipated. Something new replaced the contents of the atmosphere.

Love.

Unbounded.

Unrestrained.

Unbridled.

Limitless love.

Spencer drew me in closer so my head could lay on his chest. Previously, I was looking at his face, but now the view was of our connected hands. My fingers were intertwined with his, and I didn’t even notice how his thumb was rubbing small circles on the back of my hand until I saw it with my own eyes.

Had he always done that, but I couldn’t feel it until I saw it for myself? If so, what else had he been doing that I couldn’t feel?

“Loving you.”

I removed my head from his shoulder after hearing him answer the question that I pondered silently, wondering if suddenly just acquired the superpower of telepathy.

“What?”

“Loving you. That’s all I know how to do by heart.”

A wave of relief came over me when I realized he hadn’t read my mind, he was just simply adding to our conversation from before.

“That’s not true,” I mirthlessly chuckled. “There’s lots you know how to do. You know thousands of chess permutations, you know how to geographically profile - you know how to dance now.” I countered playfully.

He shook his head. “I know how to do those things, but sometimes, none of it makes sense. I used to lose matches against Gideon, sometimes the comfort zone is inaccurate, and until today, I couldn’t dance very well,” He chortled. “But loving you. That always made sense. It never failed me or disappointed me and it’s so all-consuming that if I try to love anyone else - it just doesn’t make sense.”

Of all the words in my vocabulary, each of them were failing me. I was rendered speechless. Spencer cleared his throat and looked away for a moment, before finding the nerve to say it.

“I choose you.” He proclaimed.

So, I was right.

There are some things we know by heart.

Lyrics to our favorite song.

A recipe.

How to dance . . . how to love.

And who to choose.

“I choose you, too, Spencer.”

. . . So to answer my question from before, is life really that magical? . . .

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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