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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

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still into you | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter one: thursday

summary: you, syd, marcus, and carmy return to where it all began: new york city, prompting you and carmy to think a lot about your past... and your future together. (four part series | follow-up to 'make my heart surrender)

warnings: lots of swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, use of she/her pronouns, the lightest of smut, no use of y/n, second person pov

word count: 5k

listen to: 91 - bleachers | now i'm in it - haim | bewitched, bothered, and bewildered - ella fitzgerald (playlist here)

a/n: re: the poll -- yall really said 'let this man be happy please!' and i love that for us. if you voted for the other fic, i want to reassure you that i will be writing that one right after this! please enjoy all of the fluff and joy of this four chapter fic. i also feel like i potentially robbed us of a smut scene so... anyone interested in a bonus smut scene as a companion to this chapter?

Thursday

“Alright, guys. We only have a few hours to get our day one prep done. I’ve outlined a schedule for today so that we’re as efficient as possible. Tomorrow’s gotta go smooth, alright?” Carmy instructs, laying out the day.

You listen intently, marveling at your boyfriend in-action. He’s so fearless when he’s in his element, and being back in New York just seems to bring back all the memories of how you met. It’s like you’re twenty seven again, huddling up for a pre-shift meeting, led by recently-promoted wunderkind CDC, Carmen Berzatto.

Only, you’re not twenty seven anymore and Carmy is the love of your life.

“I’m gonna start with the mise for our beef dish, so Syd, can you get working on our signature veal stock? I think we should work with one in the pressure cooker just in case we get short on time and have a back up,” Carmy directs, an intense determination filling his eyes.

He looks from Sydney to Marcus, before continuing his orders.

“Marcus, I need you to start on the ice cream today, chef. I ordered us some liquid nitrogen if we need to make more on the fly, but I’d really prefer not to.”

And then it’s your turn, and boy, do you love to watch him work. You have to fight the corners of your lips from curling into a broad grin because you know now is not the time.

“And lastly, I’m gonna have you work on the pasta. My goal is for us to get all of the agnolotti assembled today, so I’ll jump in when I wrap up with my mise to help you with that, yeah?”

“Heard,” the three of you answer in unison.

Everyone’s got their game faces on because this is a big deal.

The biggest, actually.

Representing The Bear at the James Beard House is more than a big deal – it’s an honor. Only a handful of chefs get invited to cook here per year, and after a little fancy footwork in terms of scheduling, the four of you were finally able to agree on a date with the famous organization. You’re more than elated to be a part of the team, even if you aren’t working at The Bear anymore.

The four of you quickly busy yourselves with setting up your stations. You only have a few hours to accomplish a whole lot of prep, and the pressure sits heavily on each of your shoulders. Tickets to the dinner had sold out within the first hour, which, after all the press, accolades, and media attention the restaurant had earned over the last few years, hadn’t been a huge surprise.

“Think you can keep up, chef? Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ rusty on me,” Marcus quips, already starting the playful trash talking early.

You let out a laugh, before challenging him in jest.

“Damn, Marcus. Hasn’t been that long. Bet I can still kick your ass on a ‘beat the clock’ mise, chef.”

“Oooooh. Shots fired,” Sydney calls out, joining in on your friendly banter.

“Challenge accepted,” Marcus shoots back, almost instantly.

And then you’re scrambling to get as many prep containers and a kitchen scale, as you race your friend and mentee, all in good fun.

You’ve missed this.

It’s only been a few months since you started your new job – a culinary education director at a startup intent on building more sustainable food systems. While your heart would always be at the restaurant, you’d been ready to take on new challenges. The salary pay and benefits didn’t hurt either. You were happy taking a grown-up job, craving a little more stability and normalcy – and so that you and Carmy could stop paying out the ass for health insurance. Besides, you were still working with food. It just looked… well, a lotta different these days.

You’ve missed the fast pace of the kitchen, your people, and Carmy’s desire for excellence, but it’s not like those things have left your life either. You still have them.

After you’d left the restaurant, Marcus had taken over as the head pastry chef. In the last few months, you’ve watched him mentor and inspire a new group of wide-eyed, green, chefs-in-the-making, which had made you prouder than you’d ever have the words for.

You can smell the sharp-allium scent of onions, as Syd quarters them for her stock, and while you have several cartons of eggs and 00 flour, Marcus has gathered all the milk that you’d just purchased for today’s prep.

“Behind,” Carmy says. He passes you by with a few 5 qt storage containers stacked, as he hugs them to his body with one arm.

You feel his other hand place the gentlest touch on the small of your back as he leans in and whispers in your ear, “It’s good to have you back, chef.”

You smile, turning your head just enough to lean back to look at him.

“It’s good to be back, chef.”

He presses the gentlest, slow kiss to your lips, and it feels like time stops for a moment. As he pulls away from you, there’s a small smirk on his face as Sydney shouts, “Oh get a room, you two!”

“If we had the time…” he murmurs quietly, planting one more soft peck onto your lips. His face is still only inches away from yours. You giggle in response, the tender moment filling your heart with warmth.

“Speaking of time… I just bought Marcus a head start,” Carmy teases, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize what he’s doing.

You pull away from him, your head snapping towards Marcus’ direction to see that he’s already filled a 5 qt container to its capacity with one portion of the milk.

“Seriously? Damn it, Carmy!” you cry out, shaking your head. “This is sabotage!”

You hear Marcus laugh in the background and as Carmy walks away with a cheeky feeling of accomplishment. You shake your head in disbelief.

“Sorry, babe. You can deal with a little hazing, yeah? Since you’ve been gone for so long. Gotta give my guy a head start. ‘S only fair.”

“You’re such a dick,” you scowl, scrambling to catch up.

Oh it is so on.

By the time you’re done with your day one prep, the four of you head to the hotel. Luckily, it’s only a five minute walk away, and you’re grateful that the James Beard Foundation chose to partner with one so close. The four of you pull your suitcases down the streets of Greenwich Village, before arriving at the luxurious, vintage-inspired hotel.

You’re eager to get up to your room, as you haven’t had a shower, nor a time to take a break since you all arrived.

“Woah…” Carmy says, his brilliant blue eyes scanning the high end hotel room. “You sure we can afford this?”

You chuckle, “I think uh… they have a partnership with the James Beard Foundation, which is the only way I can answer your question with a ‘yes’ without having to tell you that we have to sell an arm, a leg, and our first born.”

He shoots a half smile in your direction before letting out a whistle as he looks around. The floor to ceiling windows feel way outside of anything you could afford, as Carmy spots the French doors that lead right out onto a terrace. As you continue to explore the rest of the room, you spot a huge tub in the bathroom – something you’re very eager to take advantage of.

“Power nap?” you ask Carmy, setting down your suitcase in the middle of the room.

You’ll put your things away later.

“Fuck yeah,” he agrees eagerly.

You’ve barely put your book bag down before you’re both stripping off your jeans and climbing into the perfectly made hotel bed. After spending the morning traveling, you, Sydney, Marcus, and Carmy had gotten off the plane at JFK and gone straight to the James Beard House in Greenwich. Not only had Carmy been antsy to see the kitchen and get a head start on prep, you hadn’t been able to check into your hotel till this afternoon. You’re both spent, and you know that Carmy’s been running himself ragged preparing for this once in a lifetime opportunity. He hasn’t been sleeping all that well either– his thoughts consumed with nailing down the perfect menu, while paralyzed with indecision.

His quest for perfection had made him irritable over the last few days. You could see that the pressure was getting to him. His appetite was down, he was picking fights with you about small, unnecessary things at home, and pushing Sydney (sometimes a little too hard) at the restaurant.

But today, he seems a little more in control of his feelings, and it puts him a little more at ease now that you’re finally in New York. He knows he’s been driving you crazy all week, and now that you’re all here, he’s hoping he can relax a little.

Now that you’re here, in the city.

Now that the dinner is only a day and a half away.

You’re hoping he’ll slow down at some point too – give himself a little time to enjoy how big of an accomplishment this is. At least by the end of the weekend. Frankly, you’re glad you’ll have Saturday to enjoy the city without any pressure.

For all of your sakes.

You’re surprised that Carmy falls asleep with you during your late afternoon nap. He’s been so wired, so high strung lately, but you’ve just been waiting for him to come back down. Now that it seems like he is, there’s no way in hell you’re going to wake him up. You’re curled up together when you wake, your back pressed against his chest, his arms enveloping you. It feels almost impossible to pry yourself out of his arms without waking him up, but his deep slumber confirms your suspicions and you’re more than willing to let him continue sleeping. It takes a few tries to slip out of his embrace, but you do, and it’s off to the bathroom to get ready for dinner.

You try to make as little noise as possible, but by the time you're out of the shower, and your hair has been blown dry, Carmy’s up. You can hear the hotel TV on as you exit the bathroom and see he’s put his jeans back on. He’s perched on the edge of the bed, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. You notice that the dark circles under his eyes that have accumulated over the years seem to sit heavier this week, as his eyes flicker over towards you.

“Damn, my girl’s got style,” he compliments, checking out your all black-ensemble. “We really are back in New York, huh?”

You nod, grinning at his sweet compliment, as you sit down to slip your white sneakers on.

“You meetin’ up with Liz and Maya tonight?” he asks you.

“Yeah. Syd’s gonna join for a bit before her thing. She should uh… be here any minute, actually.” You begin tying up the shoelaces of one of your shoes, before slipping the other one on.

“You sure you don’t want to come?”

“Nah I-, I'll see ‘em tomorrow right? But tell ‘em I say ‘hello’.”

“Of course. I think they’re both really looking forward to seeing you.”

You check the time on your phone making sure you have enough time, before you make your way to where Carmy sits on the edge of the bed.

“What’re you going to do tonight?” you ask, curiously, stopping so that your body is right in front of his.

“Well Marcus is staging at per se so… I’ll probably just hang out. Order room service or pick up a sandwich across the street. I wanna run through all this shit so tomorrow goes as well as it can,” Carmy answers, waving his notebook at you.

He’s like a man possessed, but it’s one of the many reasons you love him. You pull the notebook out of his hands tossing it somewhere on the bed behind you. You place your knees on each side of his hips, before settling down on top of him.

“Think you can relax a little tonight?”

He pulls you in, his arms moving over your hips. Carmy leans in, placing a small kiss against your glossy lips.

“Think you can help me with that?”

You giggle in response, twisting your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I think… that could be arranged.”

Before anything too spicy can happen, there’s a knock at the door and you know it’s Syd. Carmy groans as you pull away, falling back onto the bed with a sigh of defeat. You climb off of him, heading to answer the door.

“Hey, you ready?” Sydney asks, as you greet her.

“Yeah, let me just grab my phone,” you reply, stepping aside to let her in.

As she enters the hotel room, Carmy’s sitting up. With his feet planted firmly on the ground, he leans over, resting his forearms on his legs as he runs a hand through his messy curls.

Sydney looks from you to a somewhat pouty Carmy, as if she knows she interrupted something.

“Staying in tonight, Carm?” she asks him, as you gather your things.

“Yeah,” he grumbles, and you can’t help but notice how tired he looks.

Sydney rolls her eyes in response, “Don’t worry. I’ll have her back by nine.”

“Alright, I’m ready,” you say with a smile as you address Sydney.

“You guys have fun,” Carmy nods, with a half assed wave.

“Don’t work too hard, boss,” Sydney adds, as the two of you turn to leave. “Oh and Carmy. You’ve got a little…” She gestures towards the lipstick you’ve left on his face.

You laugh in response, and as you close the door, Carmy can hear Sydney’s ‘oh my god, you two are like rabbits’ comment in the distance.

Carmy allows himself to fall back on the bed, reaching above his head to grab his notebook again. He’s honestly grateful to have a night to himself. He’s never been much for going out, or big social events, so having a night in feels like a good kind of calm before the storm – especially because the next few days will be full of social interactions. He’d always found New York City a little overstimulating.

Between the dinner and the reception on Saturday, Carmy felt like he was collapsing under the enormous pressure – his only out being excellence. It’s not just the fact that being invited to cook at the James Beard house was a once in a lifetime opportunity, but there’s important business to announce here too. And then there’s the social aspect of it all, and he can’t help but feel like there are high expectations: from the food world, his reputation, your old friends from New York. And he wants to make everyone happy – he wants to impress them all.

Something about being back here, and being back here with you, has him caught up in his head about it all. This is where you’d met. It’s also where he’d been at his lowest – right before Mikey died. So much has changed, and Carmy feels too large for his old battlefield.

Because that’s what it had been for him: a battlefield.

A battle for his mental health, to rise to the top of the New York City fine dining scene, fighting with his feelings for you.

Over the last two years, he had learned that he didn’t have to fight every single damn day. Some days he could just… be – be himself, whatever the fuck that meant, be a friend, and be with you. It felt strange – familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Being back here makes him somehow feel like the total loser he was six years ago when he first arrived in NYC… and a completely different person at the same time.

While he was over the moon when he got the call from the James Beard Foundation, he also couldn’t fight this uncomfortable feeling that’s been sitting in his stomach all week long. Carmy had never quite been able to come to terms with the whole ‘celebrity’ aspect of the food world. He knew what he could do in the kitchen. That was unquestionable. But the rest of it – the networking, the celebrity chef circles – was the part he felt most unsure about.

Ever since Sydney’s Rising Star win, he’d let her take center stage with her rising visibility in the culinary world. Actually, he’d been grateful that she was so good at it – that it seemed like she enjoyed the part of the job he hated. There was someone to take the pressure off of him – someone who thrived in front of the camera so that he didn’t have to. But he knows at some point this weekend, he’ll have to face the music.

There were big changes coming to The Bear.

It didn’t take long after the initial introductions for your friends to fawn over Sydney. They were more than happy to meet your friend they’d heard all about, and the incredible chef who was shaking up the Chicago food scene.

“Well I’m glad to hear that some things have changed and that working with Carmy’s not a total nightmare any longer-?” Liz concludes your conversation about the restaurant, earning an eye roll from Maya and a laugh from both you and Sydney.

“Oh no it’s still tough sometimes,” Sydney says back. “He has his days. We all do.”

“Liz!” you protest, in regards to the Carmy-bashing.

“What?! You didn’t have to work directly under him back then!” she defends herself, before clarifying with Sydney. “And in his defense, Sydney, it was really our exec chef who was the real nightmare.”

“Oh she works directly under him, alright,” Maya jokes, raising an eyebrow at you.

“And sometimes on top of him, and also-,” you quip back, ready to play along.

“Oh my god, you’re out of control and I am sick of you!” Sydney exclaims with a laugh in reference to your crass comment.

“So tell us more about the new restaurant,” Maya prompts, refocusing the conversation back to Sydney’s previous reveal.

Sydney tells your friends about The Bear’s plans to expand, and shares ideas she has that even you haven’t heard from Carmy yet. As she wraps up her story, she realizes what time it is, meaning that she’s gotta head uptown soon. She really only was supposed to stay for a glass of wine, but meeting your friends has been so fun that she’s lost track of time.

“Shit. I have to head out,” she says. “But I’ve really loved meeting you guys. You’re coming to the dinner tomorrow night, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Absolutely.”

“And the reception!” you add gleefully, so glad you get to see your best friends three days in a row.

“It’s been really great meeting you, Sydney,” Liz says, shooting you a look of approval. She squeezes your hand under the table momentarily, before saying, “Thanks for taking care of our girl. She speaks so highly of you.”

“Where are you off to next?” Maya asks, excitedly.

“Syd’s got dinner plans,” you answer, waiting for Sydney to provide more detail.

“Yeah, I uh-, I got invited to one of the To Be Hosted events and it just worked out that we’d be in town for this the same weekend,” Sydney replies, a glimmer of excitement flashing through her eyes as she shares.

“Damn, you got invited to a supper club?” Liz marvels. “Okay!”

“Yeah because she’s a rockstar,” you cheer your friend on, saying it so matter of factly that even a stranger would believe you.

You all say your goodbyes to Sydney before ordering food. It feels so good to be back in the city, back here with some of your best friends. Maya and Liz had been the friends that held you up, and you them, when you lived here. While you had met Liz at your last job, a sous chef under Carmy’s leadership, Maya worked in fashion and the two of you had become fast friends after meeting through an ex-boyfriend. Once you introduced the two of them to each other, the three of you had been inseparable ever since.

They had always been your biggest cheerleaders – especially when it came to you and Carmy.

“She’s great,” Maya says, in reference to Sydney.

“Right? I’m so excited for her. This is a huge deal: create her own menu, a chance to run kitchen without Carmy…” you agree, feeling deep satisfaction over the amazing people you have in your life. “We’re announcing the big news at the dinner tomorrow.”

“Speaking of, how is our favorite guy? What’s he up to tonight?” Maya asks, guiding the conversation back to Carmy.

“I told him he could come but I think he wanted to stay in tonight. I think he needs some time to decompress. He’s been pretty high strung all week,” you answer.

“Carmy? High strung?” Liz asks back sarcastically, earning a laugh from you. “I’m kidding! I really am looking forward to seeing him tomorrow.

Maya shakes her head, before taking a sip of her glass of wine. She’s always adored Carmy, but knows that Liz has a different relationship with him, having worked as a line cook.

“You guys are… getting serious, huh?” Liz asks, glancing over at you.

“Um.. I think those two were married after their first coffee date,” Maya adds.

“It was not a date!” you insist, shooting her a look.

Liz lets out an unconvinced laugh, and you accept defeat because you know they’ve always been right about you and Carmy.

“Maya, don’t forget. Our girl is and has always been the Queen of Denial,” Liz adds, winking in your direction.

“Oh ha-ha. You guys are so funny,” you reply dryly. You nod, thinking about you and Carmy’s relationship over the last few years. “Yeah uh… it’ll be three years in the Fall so… you could say it’s getting pretty serious.”

Your friends are beaming back at you in response to your admission, and while you’d love to spend all night talking about how head over heels you are for Carmy, you’re also kind of ready to shift the attention off of you and your relationship.

“Enough about me. What’s going on with you guys?” you change the subject.

It feels so good to catch up with your girl friends. You all agree to make it an early night. While Maya’s husband had agreed to put their kid to bed, she wants to make it home in time anyways. Liz has a date later, and before you know it, you’ve wrapped up dinner and are walking back to your hotel. You send Carmy a quick text, because you’re only a few blocks away.

You: On the way back.

New York City has always been so inspiring to you. The city itself feels alive – like there’s an electric undercurrent that always makes you feel so full. There’s never a dull moment, and it feels as if the potential for a wild adventure is always around the corner. It’s also the place that you and Carmy met, all those years ago. It’s funny. The version of you that met him six years ago never could’ve predicted this: that you’d actually get to be here together, after almost three years of loving each other fiercely.

Your friends were and always have been right about you.

Back then, you were Queen of Denial and even then, Carmy had been your king.

But you’re here now: in the city you met in, stupidly in love with the man you’d met six years ago who had seemed terrified to merely have a conversation with you.

Your phone buzzes in your hand, interrupting your trip down memory lane, as you peek at the text you just received.

Carmy: Went out for a walk and a smoke.

You type back a quick, yet short reply.

You: Love you.

When you return to the hotel room, you enjoy the quiet of the evening. It still feels like spring in NYC, so you open a window because it just feels too damn good outside. No wonder he’d gone for a walk. You kick your shoes off, placing them gently by the door, before stripping off your jacket and heading into the bathroom.

As you pull your hair up and out of your face, piling it into one conglomerate on top of your head, you eye the large bathtub you’d admired earlier. Not only are you in need of a relaxing soak, but you’re hoping you can persuade Carmy to join you – maybe even help him destress a little. You don’t think twice about it, as you strip off all of your clothes, sliding on one of the fluffy robes that the hotel has provided. You flip on the hot water, the sound of rumbling water against tile hitting your ears.

There’s a bath soak in a glass jar that you find on the bathroom counter, before adding it to the increasingly hot water. While it looks like a mixture of some kind of soak and epsom salt, large bubbles begin to form underneath the rapid stream of the faucet, and you inhale deeply.

Lavender. Vanilla. Chamomile, maybe?

The smell puts you at ease and you can feel your shoulders melting away from your ears.

It’s not long before Carmy returns, the bathtub is almost at its capacity and the bath soak that you put in the hot water has bubbled up and blossomed into large, sudsy configurations. You’ve put on a jazz playlist, the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald filling the small space as you hum along.

“Babe?” Carmy calls out to you, as you hear the front door close behind him.

“I’m in here,” you call to him, turning the volume of your phone down a few levels. .

You hear a shuffle of shoes, before he’s peeking around the door frame, his eyes lighting up as soon as he sees you. He knows it’s silly. It’s not like he’s been able to be very present over the last week, and it begins to dawn on him that he’s missed you.

“How was your walk?” you ask softly.

“Good.”

He looks around the bathroom, the air thick with humidity from the hot water. You turn the faucet off, as you’ve now filled the tub to its capacity.

“You look comfy.”

“I am. It’s a very comfy robe.”

You wait a beat before preparing your ask.

“Big tub,” you entice him, gesturing towards the bubble bath that awaits you.

“Yeah?” he asks, a half smile on the edges of his lips as he takes a step towards you.

“Big enough for two,” you nod, making your case.

It’s all the convincing he needs. You’re removing your robe, leaving your bare body on display for him to see, and soon enough, he’s stripping down and climbing into the bathtub with you. You share an awkward laugh as the two of you clumsily figure out how to position yourselves for optimal comfort. Your back is pressed against his chest, and you’re truly in awe of the large bathtub that somehow holds the both of you.

It becomes progressively easier for Carmy to relax. Between the hot water, and your naked body pressed against his, thoughts and worries about tomorrow begin to slip away. The two of you enjoy the quiet intimacy between you, the soft sounds of your favorite jazz standards, and Carmy’s lazily dragging his fingertips across any bit of exposed skin that he can.

You lean your head back against his shoulder, and Carmy buries his face in the crevice where your neck and shoulders meet.

“Why don’t we do this more often?” he asks, in between leaving a few slow-paced, soft kisses across your shoulders.

“Hm?” you hum in response. From the way his mouth and hands move across your body, and the silky feeling of the hot water, you barely have a thought left in your head.

“This whole… bath thing,” he clarifies, exhaling a deep sigh.

This may be the most relaxed he’s felt all week and he likes that you seem to be enjoying this too.

“Probably because we have a tub that I can only assume was built for a small show dog,” you joke.

He laughs dryly.

“Fair enough.”

Carmy waits a beat before speaking again, enjoying how his mind has quieted for the first time in days.

“Let’s put it on the list… for when we’re ready to move to a new place,” he suggests, quietly.

“Somewhere with a big tub?” you ask, only sort of surprised by his request.

“Yeah.”

You turn your head to look at him, as Carmy presses a searing kiss to your lips. You feel his hand snake between your legs and you begin to understand exactly why he’s enjoying this whole bath thing.

“As much as I’m enjoying this…” he whispers against your lips. “Think you maybe want to get out of this tub…”

Another kiss.

“… dry off…”

You slide your tongue against his as his fingertips move higher up your inner thigh, earning a hiss of pleasure from you.

“…not put our clothes back on?”

And then he’s swallowing your moans in his mouth, as he continues his exploration. Your head is spinning, and it’s not just the hot water that makes you feel as if your soul was set aflame.

“Yes.”

The next morning, you wake up alone. On the bedside table there’s a note in Carmy’s scratchy handwriting that reads:

Couldn’t sleep. Went to Chelsea Market. Love you.

You let out a frustrated sigh. Last night had been incredible but you also knew it’d be back to the grind today. While you’re excited for him – and for tonight – you’re also kind of ready for this to be over. You’re ready to have your boyfriend back.

read: bonus smut scene | chapter two

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #make my heart surrender

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filthyjoetini · 1 year

Text

Love is in the Air(BnB)

a/n: This one was a bitch to write. It took me a while. Sooooorry! The usual thanks goes to my lovely beta-reader as well as my kick ass editor (hehe) @barfightzanddiscolightz ! Also, Wes is back in action!

warnings: none

wordcount: 5.5k

part 1 - Friday night - part 2 - Saturday - part 3 - Sunday - part 5 - Tuesday - part 6 - Wednesday - part 7 - Thursday - Epilogue

Monday

“Hello there, love.”

You let your shades-covered eyes move up and saw Wesley standing in the doorway between the living room and balcony, looking like he had just gotten out of bed. You were sitting on a lawn chair, feet tucked under your bum, sipping your tea while you enjoyed the warm sun. The weather really meant well for you the past couple of days and today should also be warm enough to finally wear proper summer clothes. You were used to London’s sky being covered in clouds, foggy alleyways, and rain-soaked pavement. But not this time; this time you were graced with sunny skies and warm air. You pushed your sunglasses up to your hair and greeted Wesley.

“Good morning…. Or rather noon, Wes.”, you corrected yourself after glancing at your wristwatch, which showed you that the time was 12:18pm., “Did you sleep well?”

He nodded and sat down in the chair next to you, rubbing his eyes.

“Yup.”, he yawned. “Like a log…Do say, what’s on your itinerary for today? Planned anything exciting?” He turned to you with a small smirk on his lips.

You didn’t really have an itinerary for this trip. The only thing you really had planned was the play you wanted to see, which you did last night. Other than that, you would just do things spontaneously.

“Not really.”, you replied honestly, “I thought I’d hit the city to do some light shopping, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Except you won’t.”

Wesley’s statement made you look at him in confusion. He wasn’t even looking at you, he just picked at his nailbeds and stared across the rooftop of the house next door.

“I won’t?”, you questioned him with one eyebrow raised, “And why is that?”

“Because!”, he turned to you, a big grin on his face, “It’s my day off and you’re coming to the lake with me. Joe will be joining us later in the afternoon and the guys and Becky will also be coming after they’re done with work for the day.”, he explained as he suddenly got up to lean against the balcony’s railing. “I usually go alone and just wait until everyone arrives but you’re here now so you can keep me company. I really hope you packed a swimsuit.”

For some reason, unbeknownst to you, you did in fact pack a bikini. You remembered holding it in your hand whilst packing and almost putting it back. Something within you told you to pack it so you threw it in your suitcase.

“I packed one, yes. I don’t have a towel though.”, you remarked.

“No worries, you can borrow one of my beach towels.”, Wesley replied as he let go of the railing and walked over to you. Stopping next to you, he motioned for you to get up. You slowly untucked your feet, letting them down onto the ground. You placed your hands on the chair’s armrests and pushed yourself up. Your movement made a small clang sound which made both Wesley and you look down to where it came from. It was the wooden beaded bracelet you had put on while exploring the flat yesterday.

Wesley narrowed his eyes at it and then moved his glance to your face.

“Hey…where did you get that?”

“Uhm”, you started, suddenly worried you had done something terribly bad by putting on the bracelet. You swore to yourself you would put it back again, but it had slipped your mind that you were wearing it. “I…I found it on the commode in the hallway. I swear it was never my intention to keep it. I just…forgot about it. Sorry.”, you clarified, a small frown grazing your lips as you slid it off your wrist, holding it out for him to take.

Instead of grabbing it, Wesley suddenly burst out laughing which irritated you to no end. He was such an unpredictable man. One day you’d get sweet and caring Wesley; you experienced that Wesley on the evening you arrived as well as the day you had to move to the living room. The other, you get the jokester who was just waiting to catch you off guard like on Saturday. Today must be yet another jokester day. You really hoped Joe wouldn’t catch Wesley’s mood and team up with him, as he was a bloody menace on his own and you had already blushed enough for a lifetime.

“I’m just taking the piss, love!”

Oh, I figured, you thought while he was still howling with laughter. He finally took the bracelet from you but instead of keeping it, he put it back on your wrist. “Christ, you should’ve seen your face. All worried.”, he giggled and took his hand in yours. “I’m sorry, but I had to…also, keep it. Consider it a token of our friendship.”, he winked and let go of your hand to walk inside the flat again. You were just standing there, looking at the bracelet with a soft smile on your face. Friendship… Wesley considered you a friend.

“ARE YOU COMING?!”

You heard him yell from inside the flat which startled you a bit.

“COMING!”, you shouted back and stepped inside the living room, closing the French doors behind you.

---

Huge beach bag slung over your shoulder and the opposite hand holding onto a cool box, Wesley and you exited the supermarket next to the train station. He was carrying two shopping bags filled to the brim with drinks, snacks, and foods to put on the grill in the evening. The group had decided to throw their first barbie of the year at the lake and had appointed Wesley as the designated food-and-drinks-provider. He had a list of everyone’s favourites on his phone and even asked you what you wanted. When you had said you’d eat anything, he got offended and forced you to tell him your preferences. At first your stubborn arse didn’t want to be a burden, but he just kept on bugging you until you caved in.

The beach bag, whose weight was currently pulling you down, was almost bursting from the number of things you had packed. You usually packed lightly, but Wesley insisted on taking basically half of the swimming inventory they owned. Apart from the towels and sunscreen, he demanded you also put in a deck of UNO-cards, a half-tent, snorkelling equipment, flippers, and even sand toys. It was beyond you as to why they even owned sand toys, but all he had said was that you would see, while grinning like a maniac. You assumed there must be a patch of sand at the lake.

Wesley led you into the station’s building where you got your tickets. He had explained that the lake was a little outside of London and taking the train would be the fastest way.

Once you got off the train it was only a five-minute walk until you were able to spot the lake. It was surrounded by a park-like setting with a playground, a children’s pool, barbeques, picnic tables, and changing facilities.

Wesley led you away from the facilities to an area almost at the end of the lake underneath a huge tree. It was the perfect size and even lent some shade so you wouldn’t be completely exposed to the sun. You put down the cool box close to where Wesley had placed the shopping bags. He immediately started to fill it with the ice he had bought and placed everything that needed to be kept cold inside.

You busied yourself with unpacking the beach bag. Once everything was placed around you, you called Wesley over.

“Where do you want all this to go?”

“Uh…. the half-tent can go by the shore, it doesn’t need to be under the tree.”, he explained whilst grabbing the sand toys and bringing them to the cool box, where he crouched down and placed them neatly next to the paper plates, plastic cups, and disposable wooden cutlery. What the hell is he doing with those?, you asked yourself and eyed him suspiciously. “Everything else, we don’t need yet. You can put those back in the bag.”, he instructed and got up again, hands now on his hips while grinning at you.

You took your eyes off him and shook your head, starting to put the snorkelling equipment and UNO-cards back into the bag. Suddenly, a hand shot out next to you and grabbed one of the beach towels that were lying on the grass next to the beach bag. You knew it was Wesley because no one else had been there with you, but he still made you jump a little.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”, he apologised, balancing the folded-up beach towel in one hand. The towel was a well-used The Lion King one from the 90s with thousands of loose threads, seams that were coming apart, and frayed corners. Back in the flat, whilst packing, you had asked him why he still had it and didn’t just throw it out. He explained that it was the first thing he had ever bought with his pocket money and that’s why he kept it. Then he wanted to impose an ancient Princess Belle beach towel on you which he explained belonged to his older sister. You had declined his offer politely with your nose scrunched up while he was laughing his arse off. You ended up opting for a simple one with a pretty shell pattern.

Grinning you accepted his apology. He then smiled at you softly, turned around, and placed his towel on the ground a little further away from you, making himself comfortable.

You decided to place yours next to the beach bag and took off your shirt and shorts and stowed them away in it, leaving you dressed in only your bikini and the sunglasses on your nose. Just as you wanted to lie down on your towel, a shirt was thrown at you followed by the word catch!

“Christ, Wesley!”, you exclaimed in feigning frustration. Picking up the shirt and scrunching it up in your hands, you got into position to throw it back at him when he held his hands up in surrender. Instead of going through with it, you let it drop into the bag and stuck out your tongue at him. He mirrored your childish gesture while laughing wildly before he planted his bum back on his towel. Laughing almost maniacally yourself, you finally lay down on your back to soak up some rays of your own.

---

Joe joined Wesley and you shortly before 3:00 pm. You saw him slowly approaching. He was dressed to the nines in slacks and a dress shirt. He had ditched his suit jacket, which now hung limply from his arm. In his other arm he held his own towel, swimming trunks, and a bottle of sunscreen. As he was passing by you, he looked you up and down over the rim of his sunglasses, clearly checking you out. You acted like you didn’t notice but your squirming body betrayed you. Yesterday’s bathrobe incident and his very obvious arousal because of it was still fresh on your mind, so you tried to cover yourself up a little. Joe though, picked up on your movements and grinned to himself as he made his way over to Wesley, who had his ear-buds in. He bent down to his knees and flicked his best mate’s nose with his fingers and pat him on his shoulder. Wesley, acting like the nose flick had hurt him immensely, flipped him off before he pushed away a giggling Joe who stood up again and made his way back to you.

“Hi.”, he greeted you as he placed his towel right next to you.

“Hi.”, you replied, smiling., “You look like you just came from a photoshoot...”, you continued, sitting up a little whilst pointing at his attire.

“Well.”, he said, “I actually just came from one...and an interview also. May I put my things in here as well?” He held up the beach bag in his hands.

“Ohhh...right. I keep forgetting what your actual job is… sorry. And yes, you may. It’s Wesley’s bag after all.”

He thanked you, stuffed his jacked inside, and placed it back on the ground.

“I’m going to get changed real quick.”, he stated and pointed towards the facilities, “I’ll be back in a second.”

Before you could answer him, he took off and disappeared into the changing room. You lay back down again and studied the tree’s foliage above you for a little bit before you turned your head towards Wesley. Eyes closed, he seemed like he was totally engrossed in his music or whatever media he was consuming. Since you didn’t want to bother him, you turned your head in the other direction and kept your eyes on the door, which Joe had just gone through.

After about three minutes, not that you had counted, he stepped out into the sunlight again. Bare-chested, swimming trunks on, and sunglasses covering his eyes, he strolled over to you.

As you were gawking at him, your almost-collision in front of his bathroom on Saturday morning crept back into your mind, making your face heat up again. As he got closer you couldn’t help but stare at his groin. Luckily, he had a towel around his waist that day, otherwise you would have probably fainted on the spot because he was packing. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your gaze from him. You fortunately were wearing sunglasses, so your ogling wasn’t that obvious…at least you hoped it wasn’t.

As Joe approached you, he threw his clothes haphazardly on the bag and his bottle of sunscreen on his towel. Then he sat down on it and turned to you.

“My eyes are up here.”, he declared, grinning at you. You slowly peeled your eyes from the lower part of his body and lifted your head up to his face. Motherfucker, how did he even notice?, you thought almost panicky, while the heat that threatened to creep up your neck to your face now did exactly that.

“I could see your eyes from the side of your shades.”, he commented, as if he had been able to read your mind, which made you cover your face with your hands in shame.

He let out a chuckle and you suddenly felt a hand on both of yours as they were peeled away from your face with a soft tug. You looked over and saw Joe’s face dangerously close to yours.

“Don’t be ashamed…we all constantly stare at other people. It’s just what people do.”, he whispered. “And…some stares bother me, and some don’t. Yours sure as hell don’t. So, keep on staring, darling.”

All you could do was nod and let out a choked-up chuckle. Joe let go of your hands and you pushed yourself up once again, almost headbutting Joe in the process. Joe leaned back a little to avoid getting hurt and you gasped out an apology, which made him giggle softly.

“Uhm…you have some sunscreen on your cheek…here, let me.”, you breathed, bringing one of your hands to his face, gently rubbing your thumb over his left cheek. Your tender touch made him close his eyes and lean into it. You both stayed like this for a while, not daring to move.

“Speaking of sunscreen,” Joe suddenly spoke up whilst you still had your hand on his cheek. “Would you mind helping me with my back? I couldn’t reach all parts of it.”

“Sure.”, you replied, slowly taking your hand from his face and sitting up straight. Joe turned around so his back was toward you and handed you the bottle. You squeezed a good amount of it onto your hands and then slathered it across his back. As you were thoroughly spreading the sun protection on his back, you noticed that he had freckles on his shoulders and neck. A little further down were a couple of birthmarks and moles. Mesmerized by his back, you started to massage the white liquid into his skin which elicited a mixture of a groan and a moan from his throat. The sound made you stop your motions momentarily and you felt a small flicker of lust forming in your lower abdomen. Pressing your thighs together you quickly finished your task.

“All done.”, you announced taking your hands off his back and rubbing the leftover cream onto your arms. He thanked you with a grin, turned towards you, and held the sunscreen bottle to you questioningly. You shook your head.

“I’m not due for another round yet. Wesley just helped me a couple of minutes before you joined us.”, you explained.

“Alright.”, he replied, dropping the bottle onto the pile of clothes which sat on top of the bag. Then he lay down onto his towel and slightly turned his body towards your still sitting one. “If you need another round, let me know. I’ll gladly help you.”

---

Breaking through the water’s surface you threw your head back and with it your hair. The water was still very cold, and you kicked your legs to keep warm and afloat. Swimming closer to the shore you heard someone yell at you.

“WHOOO! YES ARIEL!”

It was Wesley, who was still sitting on his towel, clapping enthusiastically at your show. He then said something to Joe you couldn’t hear, got up, and walked down the narrow dirt path where the playground and other amenities were located. You chuckled and shook your head as your feet found the lake’s sandy ground and waded out of the water. Joe who had moved his towel around to always get the most amount of sun, ended up next to Wesley when you had decided to take a quick dip in the lake. Now he was just putting it back down next to yours and made his way towards you.

“It’s freaking cold.”, you warned him when he came to a halt in front of you.

“Is that so?”

“Yes! Look!”, you retorted, teeth clattering. You quickly grabbed his forearms with your cold and wet hands, and he let out a small yelp.

“Fuck, darling. A warning would have been much appreciated.”, he chided faintly with a frown on his face, and you let go of his arms. Then suddenly, his expression changed into a mischievous one and you started to panic.

“What are you doing?”

“Me? Nothing. Why do you ask?”

“Joe…please…what ar ̶ AHHHH”, you screeched as he picked you up by your waist and slung your body over his shoulder with an oof. You slid down his back, head almost hitting the ground below you. Fortunately, he noticed and pulled you up a little before he started running towards the water.

“JOE!”, you shrieked, as his body slowly submerged into the water. “LET GO OF ME! I SWEAR TO GOOOO ̶ “

Before you were able to finish your sentence, he pulled you off his shoulder, wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and took a dive.

When you both re-emerged you were coughing and spluttering, and your hair was covering half of your face. Joe was cackling like a mad man, breathing hard. You had your body wrapped tightly around his with your thighs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. To keep you up, Joe had placed his arms under your bum, holding onto you.

When your coughing didn’t subside, his laughter stopped, and his face turned serious.

“Are you alright, darling? You’re holding onto me like a spider monkey.”

Still coughing, you shook your head. One of his hands came up to your face to wipe your hair from it. Your eyes were closed when he gingerly rubbed his thumb across your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”, he apologised cautiously, moving his hand to your neck and shoulders to continue rubbing there.

The pressure on your neck felt nice and you let out a small whimper as you took deep breaths. When your breathing returned to normal, you opened your eyes and saw Joe’s worried chocolate ones.

“It’s OK.”, you whispered, fearing your voice would crack. Then you suddenly grinned at him, pushed yourself off him, and dunked him under water by his shoulders.

Cackling like a maniac you swam away from him to the shore. Joe quickly came up again and shouted, “You cheeky minx!”, and came after you. To your misfortune he was a better and faster swimmer, so he caught up to you rather quickly. Just as you wanted to run through the soggy ground out of the lake, he grabbed you around your waist and swung you back. You shrieked with laughter, begging him to put you down.

Wesley came back just as Joe lifted you up, followed by Rebecca, Dan, Felix, Oliver, and Jack.

“Have they kissed yet?”, Jack asked Wesley to which he shook his head.

“Ugh, I wish they’d had. It’s annoying how they tiptoe around each other.”, Wesley replied, rolling his eyes. Cupping his hands over his mouth he took a deep breath and shouted:

“Hey! Lovebirds! The party’s full! Time for supper!”

Joe and you promptly halted your movements and let go of each other, protesting Wesley’s collective nickname for you.

With Joe hot on your heels, you stomped out of the lake towards your towel to dry yourself off. When you picked up the bag with your belongings, Joe’s clothes fell to the ground.

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”, Joe said and picked them up, putting on his dress shirt without drying off first. You slung the bag over your shoulder and picked up your towel. Then you turned to the others.

“Hey guys! Becky! Nice to see you.”

They greeted you back in unison, each of them had a huge, suspicious smile on their face. You scrunched up your face in confusion and then turned to Joe again.

“Uhm, I’m gonna go get changed. I’ll be back in a few.”

Smiling, he nodded at you, and you walked off.

---

You returned to the group about 15 minutes later, freshly showered, dressed in your shorts and a t-shirt, your hair hung loosely and almost fully dry off your shoulders.

When you placed the bag back down on the ground, you saw that everyone was sitting in a circle, the sand toys and the UNO-cards laying in the centre of it. Confused, you joined them and sat down next to Joe. You looked up at him with questioning eyes.

“It’s a drinking game.”, he explained as he picked up his hand of cards, “You basically play UNO and when someone wins, the others have to drink. The person with the most cards in their hands has to drink out of the bucket, the person with the second most out of the castle mould, and so on…Do you also wanna play?”

“Oh, yes, that sounds fun.”, you answered as Oliver handed you your cards.

After a couple of rounds everyone had a good buzz in. Some more, some less. You were on the ‘some less’ side of the group and giggled at the ones who tottered around after what Wesley had decided was the last round. Joe, who was equally as tipsy as you, grabbed you by your arms to pull you up, when Wesley walked over to the both of you.

“Hey, Wi-Fi. Can you come help me with the food, please?”

“Wi-Fi?”, you asked, giggling, turning to Wesley.

“Yeah. Look at his fucking forehead, man. A bloody Wi-Fi signal… it’s not that strong, but it’s there.”, Wesley explained as Joe slapped the back of his head.

“Shut the fuck up, mate.”

“WI-FI!”, you yelled as you burst out laughing, holding onto Joe’s arm with both of your hands, swinging it back and forth.

Following Wesley, Joe pulled you with him since you hadn’t let go of his arm. You insisted you also wanted to help with the food. Eventually you let go of him so he and Wesley could handle the barbie while you, with Becky’s help, were setting the picnic table which was located a bit further away.

“Soooo, tell me. What is going on with you and Joe?”

Becky’s question made you stop in your tracks, pulling the stack of paper plates to your chest.

“Uh, nothing.”

“Ah, stop lying to me. I can sense that there’s something between you two from a mile away.”, she replied smirking, not buying your answer. You blushed lightly at her statement, and she walked over to you and rubbed your shoulder gently.

“Go for it.”, she encouraged you.

“I can’t. I’m going home soon…how are we supposed to make it work?”, you asked, frowning deeply.

“You’ll make it work.”, she explained, rubbing your shoulder once more. “If you don’t make a move, I will force him to.” Her voice changed from encouraging to threatening in an instant and you chuckled and nodded nervously.

“Good.”, she said as she finished placing the last of the wooden cutlery on the table. Without further ado, she walked off to join Dan, Felix, Jack, and Oliver, who were all trying to pile themselves into the half-tent. She yanked them out of it one by one and scolded them, demanding they all go sit at the table. You quickly finished setting the table before any of them could sit down and walked over to Joe and Wesley who were just finishing up at the grill.

“Hey there, love.”, Wesley greeted you as he placed sausages and burger patties on the platter Joe held out to him. “What were you and Becky talking about?”

“Nothing.”, you replied nonchalantly.

“Hmmm…”, he hummed. “Alright…didn’t seem like nothing.”

“It really was nothing. Just girl talk.”, you firmly answered, ending the conversation. Wesley placed down the tongs and held up his hands in defeat, lips in a thin line.

“Alright. Sorry.”, he apologised and walked off towards the table sitting down between Oliver and Jack with Felix on the far end of the bench.

Joe, meat platter still in his hands, still stood next to you, a concerned look on his face.

“You alright, darling?”

You gave him a quick nod and made your way to the table as well. The only two spaces left were next to Dan and Becky, so you sat down next to Becky. Joe followed you quickly and placed the platter in the middle of the table. Before his behind had the chance to touch the bench, the guys were already grabbing various meats off the platter and Becky chided them loudly, even slapping their fingers away. You came to the conclusion that Becky was most certainly the mum of the group and without her, nothing would get done.

Joe’s thigh brushed yours as he finally sat down, and it made you jump a little. Automatically, he placed a hand on your thigh to keep it from bouncing up and down and you instantly stiffened. Becky, who was sitting right next to you noticed the change in your body language and smirked to herself, looking down at your thigh where Joe’s hand was still positioned. You looked at her and she had the audacity to wink at you. Swallowing thickly, you tried to relax, which you eventually did. Joe rubbing his hand slowly up and down your thigh also helped, and you felt yourself zone out a little.

“…Sausage, burger, or chicken skewer?”

“Huh?”, you asked looking to the person who asked you the question. It was Joe who pointed to the platter with one hand, while the other one still unconsciously rubbed your thigh.

“Oh, uh…I’ll take a burger, please.”, you answered softly. He took his hand off your thigh to shovel a burger patty onto your plate and then helped himself to two of them. You pushed up a little and helped yourself to the various sauces and salads that were scattered around the table.

Dinner went by smoothly with lots of laughter, jokes, and more alcoholic beverages. By the time everyone had finished eating, it got quiet around the table and the temperature had dropped significantly. Joe had even put on his suit jacket again. When he noticed you shivering next to him, he took it off and placed it around your shoulders. Perplexed at first, you eventually wrapped it around yourself, soaking up his body warmth and smell.

To set the after-dinner mood, Wesley had put on some low music to be played in the background. Becky put Felix and Jack in charge of cleaning up and throwing away the disposable dishes and cutlery. After much resistance, moaning, and threatened punches, they eventually started cleaning up under Becky’s constant observation.

Joe, lit cigarette dangling from his lips, was immersed in a conversation with Wesley, Dan, and Oliver. You didn’t really understand what they were talking about, so you just sat there, watching everyone silently.

As you sat there, lost in thought, your earlier conversation with Becky came to your mind again. Joe and you had gotten really close over the past couple of days. The touches, the hugs, the soft kiss to your hair, the teasing, the way he held onto you in the lake this afternoon, hell you even kissed him on the cheek last night, that must mean something, right? Well, to you it did. You weren’t sure if he felt the same though. Maybe it was just playful banter for him. But if it was, he wouldn’t act this way, right? As if he were in love.

Frustrated with your thoughts you let out a deep sigh.

Excusing yourself, you got up which made Dan, Oliver, Wesley, and Joe stop their conversation. Wesley noticed the pout on your face and frowned.

You walked towards the lake’s shore where you sat down on the small patch of sand between the grass and the water. Digging your fingers deep into it, you let out a defeated groan as your eyes welled up with tears.

At the table, Wesley stared at Joe and nodded in your direction.

“Mate, go after her!”, he hissed, Dan and Oliver mouthing go, go, go as Joe put out his cigarette and got up, almost jogging after you.

You heard footstep behind you and looked up to see who had followed you. It was Joe. When he saw that you had tears in your eyes, he frowned deeply and sat down next to you.

“Hey. Are you alright?”, he asked, pulling your fingers from the sand, and taking your hands in his. You shook your head slowly, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks and dripping off your chin.

“Whoa, hey. Darling, what’s wrong?”

He tried to pull you into his lap, but you resisted and pushed him back a little, so he let go of your hands.

“I don’t know what to make of you.”, you replied honestly, and confusion set on his face.

“What? What do you mean?”

“I…”, you started, letting out a shuddering breath. “I’m not sure what you want from me, and it’s driving me insane.”, you continued, wiping the tears off your face. “The way you tease me, the touches, the embraces…your eyes. Oh my God. Your eyes. Joe, they hold so many emotions and I just can’t pinpoint them exactly. I’m scared…”, you rambled on, voice barely a whisper.

Joe stared at you, mouth hanging open, unable to answer you.

“I’m scared, because I’m leaving in a couple of days, and I don’t want this to just be a fling. And I’m scared that if we give this a go, distance will tear us apart. I’m scared Joe, so fucking scared, because I’m slowly but surely falling for you.”, you kept explaining in a whisper, still wiping your face. “Hell, I don’t even know if you feel the same. I am really putting my heart on the line here…”

Joe, totally stunned by your confession, scooted closer to you. Then, all of a sudden, he grabbed your tear-stained face in his hands and leaned in close.

“Babe, if I didn’t feel the same, would I do this?”, he asked, pressing his lips to yours. You immediately kissed him back and slung your arms around his shoulders and he finally pulled you into his lap. As your kiss grew more passionate, he let his tongue swipe across your bottom lip, and you slowly opened your mouth to let him deepen it. You kept on kissing until you ran out of breath and both your lips were bruised and swollen.

He reluctantly pulled back and grinned against your lips, wiping away the last of your tears with his thumbs.

“You’re such an idiot for ever thinking I wouldn’t feel the same.”, he whispered against your lips, pecking them softly. “A total and utter idiot.”, peck. “The biggest idiot of all idiots.”, peck.

“I got it, I’m an idiot.”, you giggled against his lips between pecks.

“FUCKING FINALLY!”

Wesley was shouting, pumping his fist into the air whilst the others where whooping and hollering behind him.

Joe lifted his hand and flipped them the bird before he leaned in to capture your lips with his once more.

---

Taglist:

@ohmeg @daleyeahson @lma1986 @palomahasenteredthechat @mandyjo8719 @aysheashea @eddiebaemunson @xlilithb @freakymunson @sidthedollface2 @i-wont-run-this-time @plk-18 @avatarghost666 @kylakins88 @deadspellz @thehillzhaveeyez @kayleeelena97 @foreverjosephquinn @punctualhowell @icallhimjoey @ghostinthebackofyourhead @siriuslysmoking @hollster88 @cancankiki @definitionwanderlust @eriancrow

the ones who are crossed out are the ones I can’t tag, soz

#joseph quinn #Joe Quinn #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x y/n #Joe Quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn x y/n #joe quinn fanfiction #rpf #love is in the air(bnb)

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laheysdork · 2 years

Text

strangers - stiles stilinski

summary: you decided that he’s a stranger to you a long time ago, but what if tragedy strikes and the only person that could help you is him?

word count: 4.8k

warnings: cursing, fights, angst, slight fluff, vomit?, a little violence

a/n: so sorry i have been mia for months, i moved out and am finally living (as in not being stuck in my room all the time) i have this enemies-to-lovers fic siting for the longest time in my draft so hope yall like it! the italic bolded ones are flashbacks in case it gets pretty confusing. and i would like to apologize beforehand 🤠

masterlist

Strangers—they’re not always the people we don’t know. Some of them can be by choice, someone we chose to forget.

Sighing at the thought of another dreadful day at school, you drag your feet towards your first class. Your muscle memory kicking in, you pick the seat at the back corner, trying to be as unnoticeable as possible as you wish you can hide under a huge invisible cloak. After dumping your bag onto the floor next to the table, your body lazily sinks into the chair. Shuffling inside the pocket of your hoodie, you take out your phone and click it on, looking at the time.

7.50 A.M.

For once, you are early. Class starts at 8, so you have an extra 10 minutes to waste. As you begin to think about ways to kill the time, you hear two familiar voices growing louder as they enter the class.

You know those voices by heart. The voices that would always cheer you up when you were sad, the voices that continuously came up with jokes every day, but also the same voices that have shattered the only living soul you have left. How could one bring so much joy but also pain?

“Come on, Stiles. Star Wars? Again? Don’t you have any other movies to watch for our weekly movie nights?” you grumbled irritatedly.

“Last week, Scott picked some lame-ass rom-com and forced us to sit through it so this week it’s MY turn for revenge.” He emphasized the ‘my’ and crossed his arms across his chest, smirking at the thought of his genius evil plan.

“Fine, but next week I’m making you watch Spiderman.”

His curled lips dropped flat instantly. “Spiderman? Y/N, you know I am a DC man. Why would you do this to me?” he whined in disbelief which earned a maniacal laugh from you.

“Well, as you said before Stilinski, that is MY turn for revenge.”

Losing yourself in your thoughts, 10 minutes have long passed as the coach abruptly enters the classroom.

“This is the right class, right? Yeah, I think so.” He mumbles to himself as he places his stuff onto the teacher’s desk and clears his throat.

“Since I’m busy today, you will be doing a pair project.”

And the class goes wild.

“Hey, shut up. I’m not done yet.” Coach yells which gradually silences the class.

“Before all of you got too happy, I will be picking the pairs. Some of you depended on other students too much and that is not good.” He shakes his head, trailing off the subject.

“So, uhm, I’m just going to write the pairs on the board and the instructions. While I’m at it, please for the love of God shut your mouth.”

You are surprised. As a generally unlucky person, today doesn’t seem so bad. You won’t have to sit through coach’s lectures for 2 periods, which you consider as a total win.

However, your triumph does not last long as the words written messily on the board haunt you.

Pair 3: Y/F/N Y/L/N, Stiles Stilinski

Fuck-

“Okay, so all you have to do is collect some general information regarding the market structures and make a mind map. Simple. Now, huddle up with your buddies and get to work.”

Even after everyone starts grouping up with their partners, you are still slumped in the corner, not having any sort of will or energy left to interact with Stiles Stilinski.

Thankfully (or not), Stiles decides to make the first move, his silhouette towering your sitting figure. As you strictly look at your phone, a loud screech filled your ears, Stiles noisily dragging a vacant chair next to your table.

“Y/N,” he called in a tone you can’t quite comprehend.

God.

“Yeah,” you replied bluntly, glancing up.

“I- um, I wanted to say-“

“Sorry, what? I can’t hear you.”

In fact, you actually can. Hell, you even know what he’s about to say. But you do not brace yourself for this. You can barely look at him, let alone talk to him.

“Hey, movie night at 7?” You nudged on Stiles' arms, startling him, busy going through a bunch of papers on his desk.

“Uhh, no. I’m busy tonight.” He glanced to you for a second then proceeds to occupy himself.

“Okay, how about tomorrow?”

Missing your best friends, you were determined to get the band back together. Stiles and Scott had been exceptionally busy for the past few days and you were not quite sure why.

At first, you thought maybe it had something to do with the new girl, Allison. Scott seemed to be all over her. But then there was that creepy peculiar guy, Derek, who was borderline stalking them. They started to ditch you alone, running off to some secret mission, and you were tired of it. Why were they keeping it from you? Did they not trust you enough?

“Also busy,” he muttered, his focus still fully on the pile of paper. Your mouth gaped to come up with something that would get them to spend time with you but was interrupted by the ringing of the bell. In a flash, Stiles stood up, aimlessly gathering his papers, and zoomed out of the class, leaving your deadpanned state unattended.

From the widely-opened door, you could see Stiles rushing over to Scott. He told Scott something inaudible unless you got some sort of super-hearing, but from the look on Scott’s face, it must’ve been urgently distressing. Both of them bolted out of the school together without you, once again.

“I’ll do the monopoly and monopolistic competition and you do perfect competition and oligopoly. I’ll draw the mind map after school,” you state clearly and monotonously, wanting to quickly get this over with.

“Y/N, I-“

“Is it unclear?” you snap, rather cold.

“No, but-“

“Okay, then. You better start reading.” You heavily lift your book out of the bag and drop it on top of your table.

“What the hell just happened? Scott? Stiles?”

Your quizzical eyes darted waveringly between the two jittery boys, confused and infuriated.

Earlier, the boys had invited you, Allison, Lydia, and Jackson to come over and study. For a while there, you were hopeful. You thought that this small gathering could be a step closer to things going back to how it was, but displeasingly, you were absolutely mistaken.

“I don’t know, it’s-“

“What kind of lie are you coming up with now huh, Stiles? I know you know something!” you confronted.

“Y/N, we didn’t-“

“Oh, you think I didn’t notice? That guy Derek? Then both of you suddenly went M.I.A for days? And don’t get me started with the ‘Sorry, Deaton needs me at the clinic’ or ‘Sorry, my dad called me, gotta go’. We’ve been friends since we were 10 for fucks sake!”

Gladly the three of you were left alone because you were furiously shouting at this point. Allison offered to drive Lydia home the moment she sensed the unnerving tension between the three of you.

“And now, even after whatever that thing is just almost killed us, you still think I don’t deserve to know the truth?”

You shot the two boys death glares through your teary eyes which they actively try to avoid. They looked miserably guilty, something you currently want them to feel.

“You know what, I’m done. Don’t bother chasing after me to explain. I can just ask Allison.” And with that bitter statement, you left the two stunned boys standing frozen on the front porch.

Both of you are quietly reading through the materials and highlighting the key points. You silently thank Stiles for not trying to initiate another awkward conversation, which probably is caused by your previous intimidation.

Luckily, time seems to fly as the bell rings, indicating the end of the class. Not wanting to spend another second in this hellhole, you immediately left the class.

Following that incident, Stiles and Scott tried to reach you for days. Your phone would constantly light up once every few hours with either Scott’s or Stiles’ name lighting up the lockscreen.

After a week or so, the calls eventually came to a halt. You were relieved the ongoing calls that you have convinced yourself were bothering you stopped. But deep down all those denials, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that they gave up on you so effortlessly.

At the same time, you couldn’t blame them either. You were pretty ruthless.

Things never went back to normal. You avoided them at all cost, stop sitting at their table, vowing to never speak to them ever again.

You knew that keeping grudges would eventually hurt you more than it should but you were headstrong.

They did not trust you. They lied to you. They have made their bed and now you’re just simply letting them sleep on it.

However, this didn’t stop you from being attentive towards them. From time to time, you tried to keep tabs on them by checking in with Allison. But that was until she passed away.

The news left you completely devastated and heartbroken. Even though you were not on good terms with Scott and Stiles, you were still close with Allison.

She was your best friend. She patiently supported you through the heartache of losing your two best friends, she taught you how to stand strong independently, she gave you hope on the brighter days that had yet to come, but most importantly, she trusted you when Scott and Stiles didn’t.

You were also aware of the whole void situation, which pained you more than you thought it would. The thought of the vibrant, eccentric Stiles going through unspeakable agony and remorse wrecked you.

During Allison’s funeral, you decided that letting your distant facade down just for a day to console the pack won’t kill you.

Approaching them after the reception, a surprised look was painted on each of their faces, especially Scott and Stiles. You gave your condolences to everyone and hugged Stiles and Scott, something you haven’t done in ages. Their bodies stiffen from your unexpected action, but soon they melt into the hug and cling onto you tightly, finally accepting that you were really embracing them.

After pulling apart, you excused Scott to give you and Stiles a moment alone.

“Stiles, I know you’re thinking that this is your fault but listen to me, it is not. You were not in control. You were not you. You did not do this.”

Upon hearing comforting words from his long-lost friend, he let out an excruciating sob. Instinctively, you pulled him into your embrace once again as he squeezed you tighter.

You might not be able to forgive him yet but at least you could be there with him through this disastrous nightmare.

The whole day, you try to steer clear of Stiles or the pack. You know he’s trying to get a hold of you, probably wanting to discuss the unfinished project; but we don’t need to add more to the plate, don’t we?

Once school ended, you quickly rush home. From a distance, you can hear Stiles call out your name. But being the excellent evader you claim to be, you ignore them.

Just as you think the day can’t get any worse, the doorbell in your house chimes, indicating a guest present on your doorsteps. You sigh, knowing who is standing behind that door and this time you can’t dodge it.

So much for being an excellent evader.

“What?” you ask, getting straight to the point.

“We haven’t finished our project. I want to help you do the mind map.” He stares at you innocently, fumbling with his hands.

After all these years and he still got those puppy eyes.

“It’s fine, I can do it myself.” You try closing the door but he beats you to it.

“Come on, Y/N. I don’t want you ratting me out to Coach for forced labor, so please just let me in and we’ll work on it together,” he whines, hand still holding the door open.

Even after everything, you still can’t bring yourself to decline him. You have always had a soft spot for Stiles, which you are planning to terminate because it is starting to be troublesome.

“Fine,” you grunt in defeat.

A favorable grin is plastered on his face as he steps into your house.

Things seemed to change after Allison’s death. You noticed fresh faces joining the pack while familiar ones went away.

But out of the several new members, one had caught your eye the most. Her name’s Malia if you’re not mistaken; a snarky brunette, who’s built like a model too by the way.

From what you could tell from the persistent PDA, she was dating Stiles. Yeah, you weren’t exactly in a position to have a say on it, but you were getting real sketchy vibes from her, or so you thought.

“Stiles, you’re still coming over right?” you heard Malia speak to your ex-best friend as you opened your locker across from them.

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll teach you maths too since you’re so bad at it.” You tried not to overhear their conversation but you just couldn’t help it.

“Thanks. You’re the best!” she cried out as she treaded away from Stiles, a pang striking your chest.

Maybe, you’re just slightly jealous.

Okay, slightly was an understatement.

It seemed like you’re still unable to completely erase your suppressed attraction towards him, even when clearly he had.

To minimize any sort of unnecessary interaction, you try to fully put your focus on the project—which works. For the past 15 minutes, the two of you are settled in your living room in silence, minding your own business.

At least until Stiles decides to be clumsy and drop his plastic cup, water spilling all over the floor. You roll your eyes and grab a cloth from the kitchen to clean up the mess.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he curses under his breath as you are drying up the floor.

“It’s fine.”

No actually, it’s not. This situation right here is not fine. You’ve had the shittiest day at school and to make it even worse, Stiles decides to show up uninvitedly at your house which is supposedly your only stress-free zone.

“I’ll help you clean it up.” He squats down, trying to get the cloth from your grip.

“No, you don’t have to.” You don’t want him to cause any more inconvenience, even though you know very well he doesn’t mean it.

“I want to help Y/N, I-“

“What, Stiles? You want to help? Then please for the love of God, leave me alone!” You stand up and snap at him, a bit too loudly. You feel bad for being too hard on him when he’s only trying to help, but you’re unable to extinguish your growing anger.

He straightens up, his once warm face turn into an enraged frown.

“Is this still about what happened back then? Fuck, Y/N. I’ve said sorry, Scott has, thousands of times. But you still don’t want to forgive us. So tell me now Y/N, what should I do, huh?”

The sudden increase in his volume catch you by surprise. He has always been so radiant and carefree, you have never seen him this mad. But despite that, the rage inside of you still does not subdue.

You let out a humorless chuckle.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Stiles. You think that I get to choose not to forgive you, that I’m the evil one and maybe I am at some point. But don’t you dare pull the victim card here.”

Your sight becomes blurry as your eyes start to sting from all the overwhelming emotions but you can care less.

“You lied to me. You left me alone, confused, scared, even after knowing very well how my mom lied to me about my father abandoning me. You know how much I relied on you and Scott, but you still broke my trust. You hurt me. And you think a bunch of “sorry”s will immediately fix that? It’s not that simple, Stiles.”

You’re not screaming as loud as you did before. The tone of your voice softens as a new emotion takes control over your body—pain.

Frustrated, Stiles rummages through his hair while letting out a scoff.

“But it’s not just a bunch of “sorry”s isn’t it? We kept on calling you after that day. We tried approaching you at school. Fuck, I even tried to be nice to you earlier today. But guess what I got in return? Another silent treatment. Why can’t you just fucking move on already? You’re being too overdramatic. No wonder your mom lied to you.”

Bang. His words hit you like a bullet, piercing right through your heart.

Your once agape mouth closes shut, your furrowed eyebrows straighten. Stiles has crossed the line this time.

“Get out,” you spat, emotionless.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean to-“

“I SAID GET OUT, STILES,” you yell at the top of your lungs, frightening him. With horror painted all over his face, he immediately picks up his bag and exits your house, too frightened to say anything else.

As the door shuts, more tears start to flow down your cheeks. You are exhausted. Today’s fiascos have drained every ounce of energy you have left, leaving you like a corpse.

After getting your lifeless, sickly self to shower, you directly plop into your bed, curling yourself in the soft quilt of your blanket. Needing an escape from this dreadful reality, you flutter your eyes shut, instantaneously falling asleep.

You wake up to your accustomed alarm, growling at the blaring sound you set. Finally having enough will to get out of bed, you head to your bathroom.

Turning on the lights, your reflection in the mirror stares back at you.

Gosh, you look dead.

Your skin is as pale as a sheet, your eyes are puffy with prominent dark circles forming under them, your hair is messy and icky. You feel disgustingly terrible.

Dabbing a whole lot of concealer on your skin, you get ready for school; deciding to put whatever catastrophe that had happened yesterday behind you.

Fortunately, you only have one class with Stiles for the day. The day goes by pretty fast and to your delight, pretty decent too, probably because you spend a few periods in the infirmary.

But again, the universe seems to find so much pleasure in inflicting pain on you.

Midway through the class, a sharp sting strikes your head. Interrupting Mr. Yukimura, you excuse yourself to leave the class.

As you reach the empty halls, you feel an eerie sensation creeping all over your body. Alarmed for some reason you don’t know, you scan the halls hastily. You can see nothing, but you do hear something. A bug-like, rattling noise gradually fills your ears, followed by a raspy, unearthly wheeze.

What the fuck is happening?

You’re shivering, cold sweats covering your body. Not being able to stand the unknown terrors, you abruptly sprint to the vacant locker room.

Bad idea. Should’ve picked a more crowded room.

Securing yourself in a room alone definitely does not make you feel any safer. The rattling has stopped but the ominous feeling only grew more prominent.

You are about to escape before sudden nausea hits you. Before you knew it, your knees drop to the floor, your throat retching, vomiting a slimy, ink-like substance.

Now you are horrified.

The door to the locker room flies open, showing two familiar figures. Their eyes find your unusually glowing whiskey-colored ones.

“Fuck, she’s one of them,” Stiles spoke, eyes fixated only on you.

Scott rushes over to you as Stiles stands still, trying to let the sight in front of him sink in. While bracing your fragile body to a steady sitting position, Scott checks in on you with a few “are you okay?”s to which you shake your head.

“What is happening to me, Scott?” you question, panic in your eyes.

After hearing a very complicated and detailed explanation about chimeras and the dread doctors, you are left speechless in front of all the members of the pack who came running right away at the bad news a while ago when you were still seated frozen in a shocked haze.

“Okay so, let me summarize everything,” you mutter so softly to the point it sounds like a whisper while standing up, Stiles hands instinctively finding your body to support you.

“I am a chimera, which is a scientifically-made supernatural creature. The dread doctors, the psychos who are behind this, are going to take me away,” you enunciate to the pack—more like to yourself—to prove your understanding of the matter in which Scott nods in return.

He then tries to come up with a plan to save you from being taken, but you’re not really listening.

Even though you look composed, you are actually on edge, occasionally convincing yourself that everything is under control.

From the very little you heard, basically, they plan on keeping you here in the locker room for the rest of the day—something to do with the telluric currents.

After the plan is finalized, everyone departs for their appointed roles, leaving only one person behind to watch over you.

Out of everyone in the pack, why him?

“I have a spare shirt in my locker, do you maybe want to change into them?” Stiles pointed to your now stained white T-shirt.

You are about to refuse the boy’s offer but looking at the matching black splatter on your shirt and the floor makes you feel queasy, so you comply.

“Okay, we’ll go to the boy’s locker room and leave this mess here.”

“We should clean it-“

“No, you’re not in the state to do any work. I’ll ask someone to clean it up later.” He grabs your arm and leads you out the door to the boy’s locker room, which is no different than the girl’s, pretty disappointing.

Stiles rummages his locker for a second before handing his grey shirt to you.

You stare at him, waiting for him to give you some privacy to change your clothes. But it seems like he isn’t getting the memo.

“What?” he blurts so blatantly as you sigh in return.

Oh God has he always been this slow?

“Are you planning on cheating on Malia? Because I’m about to change here and unless you’re blind, you’re going to have to see me pretty much naked.” His jaw drops at your snarky remark. His face growing warmer as it’s tinted with a crimson color.

“O-Oh yeah, of course. I’m no longer dating Malia though but uhh that’s not important. I’ll turn around- Or do you want me to leave the room? I can do that.” He fidgeted, totally taken aback and flustered.

“Don’t leave me alone, please. Just turn around.”

Both of you are astonished by your statement. But it’s the truth. Alone, you were petrified. At least being with Stiles makes you feel a little more secure.

Just a day ago you were shouting for him to leave, but now you practically begged him to stay. How ironic.

After you have changed into his cozy oversized shirt which for the record smells like his aftershave that you liked, you keep away your dirty shirt, sit on the bench beside him, and thank him.

Once again, silence befalls the both of you. The air between you two today has somehow shifted from yesterday. It’s still thick and tensed, but not full of rage and resentment.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he mutters after a while with his head low.

“Stiles-“

“No, I have to say it. You were right. I was so stupid. I should have never blamed you for not being able to trust me. I’ve hurt you, Y/N, and I deserve this.” His regretful honey eyes are fixed deeply into yours.

Despite the guilt building up inside your body, you do not reply to him straight away. You need time to process this.

Are you still mad at him? Yes. But do you feel bad for being mean towards him? Also yes.

As you are contemplating, the door to the locker room swings open, revealing Scott and the others.

Liam is clutching a large navy duffel bag in his hand, its contents still a mystery to you. Lydia and a man who you aren’t familiar with are carrying a bunch of radio transmitters. Malia is holding a steel bat, which later on is passed over to Stiles.

Once they are all inside, they start to get busy. Lydia, Stiles, and the guy—Parrish, according to what you heard the pack calls him—go around the room, placing the equipment all over it. Malia and Liam are near the door, pushing the shelves to cover all the exits except the main one. And Scott is hovering over the duffel bag which was placed earlier on the bench across you.

He slowly zips the bag open, inspecting it. Being your inquisitive self, you lift your head up to get a better view. But before you get a sight of anything, Scott zips it back close and takes it with him.

After everyone’s done with their designated tasks, they all gather to form a small circle, yourself included.

“Okay, Lydia and Parrish, you two stay in the car outside. Malia and Liam, stand by in the halls. Me, Stiles, and Y/N will stay here. Got it?” Scott instructs clearly to which everybody nods and proceed to their assigned areas.

All of them seem so prepared as if they are properly equipped for battle, except you.

Minutes have passed as there is no sign of the dread doctors. You are sitting quietly on the bench, fumbling with your fingers as Stiles and Scott pace around the room.

Your eyes darted from the two mobile boys to the duffel bag resting on the bench in front of you. Now, you’re curious.

When Scott isn’t looking, you swiftly slide to the opposite bench and zip the bag open, uncovering a bunch of weighty chains.

“What are these for?” Your voice echoes through the noiseless room, earning glances from them both.

“I brought them, just in case.” Scott moves closer to where you are.

“In case of what?” You don’t quite understand what he is implying.

“In case we have a chance to catch one of them,” Scott answered composedly.

“What?” Stiles snaps from behind Scott.

“If we can’t make the school a fortress, maybe we can make it a trap.” Scott’s attempt to explain to the two of you only receives a scoff of disbelief from Stiles.

“And you’re making her the bait?” he questions sharply.

“That’s not what I said-“

“Yeah, right.” Stiles rolls his eyes as Scott glances over to you, an apologetic look plastered on his face.

You don’t know what to feel about this situation. Yes, you are hurt that Scott possibly considered you as bait. But rationally, he does have a point. At the same time, you are also impressed at Stiles' initiative to immediately defend you.

“Wait a minute, I hear something. I’ll go out and check it. You two stay here.” Before any of you can protest, Scott fleets out of the room.

And then there’s two. Awkward silence once again engulfs the two of you. But this time, you’re the one who breaks it.

“Thank you, for defending me,” you utter gently as he sat beside you.

“Of course, Y/N. Always. I will always protect you.” He grasps your hands into his, giving you a reassuring smile, relieved that you finally drop your cold exterior.

The long-awaited moment of truce you two are sharing is sadly interrupted by the familiar rattling noise that unexpectedly appeared, causing you to stand up, followed by Stiles.

“Stiles, I hear them,” you quiver, fear rushing through your body.

“Me too. Hey, Scott?” He forms a half-circle using his palms, cupping them around this mouth. He continues to call out his best friend’s name a few more times before he retreats.

“Where the fuck is he?” Exasperated and worried, he restlessly gazes around the room.

“They’re coming, Stiles.” Feeling hopeless and discouraged, you put your hand on his shoulder, trying to calm his agitated body. You have accepted your fate. They’re taking you away.

“No, I’m not letting them take you.” His hands caress the sides of your arms, tears forming in his eyes.

“They will.” Your palms cup his face, thumb wiping away the warm teardrops streaming down his cheeks.

Mirroring your actions, he also cups your cheeks, staring at the little details of your face, memorizing them like it’s the last time he’ll get to be close to you.

Then he tilts his head and leans closer, shutting the distance between your lips. Fluttering your previously widened eyes shut, your lips passionately brushed along his plump ones as your hands fall from his cheeks to his chest, heart pounding loudly, warmth radiating throughout your body.

Just as he initiated it, he pulls away, honey eyes never leaving yours.

“I will find you, okay?” You nod as shadows appear behind Stiles’ figure.

The dread doctors.

He also sensed their presence as he immediately snatches his bat from the bench. He commands you to stay behind him which you obey.

Cowering behind Stiles’ figure, they have the two of you cornered and helpless. He tightens his grip and aggressively swings his bat at one of them but to no avail. Inching closer, they shove him away, grabbing a hold of both your arms.

You’re hysterically crying out for help, vigorously attempting to break free. Forcefully holding you still, they jab a sharp needle to the side of your neck as your limp body dropped to the ground. Your vision turns dark, the last thing you see is Stiles’ unconscious body lying in front of you.

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shuadotcom · 1 year

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Push & Pull | KSY (M)

Summary: Something has to serve as payment for him being a constant nuisance multiple times a week, and if it’s him on his knees for you, then so be it. Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x Fem!Reader Genres & AUs: Smut, enemies with benefits au, office rivals au, pwp Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED) Warnings: Profanity, dirty talk, sub!soonyoung, dom!reader, pet names (baby boy, good boy, miss, baby), degradation (soonyoung is called a slut), oral (f. receiving), fingering, panty/coochie sniffing, protected sex, spitting, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, handjob, gag usage, soonyoung is absolutely pussy whipped and pussy drunk Words: 5.1k Note: Wishing a very, very happy birthday to my amazing, lovely wife @horanghater! I love you so much and I hope you enjoy sub Hoshi 😘

Thank you sososo much to @playmetheclassics for this phenomenal banner and for being my lovely, wonderful beta as always! ❤️ 🫶🏽 Net Tag: @kflixnet

“Hey, Y/n, quick question,” your manager starts, peering into your office.

Will any question at work ever truly be quick?

“Yeah, what’s up?” You look up at Seungcheol, tired eyes easily getting replaced with your best corporate smile.

“Would you mind throwing together a slide for the team meeting tomorrow? It can just be a bullet point list about the designs we’re working on - nothing fancy.”

“Sure, should I include-”

“Hey, Hyung! I did a slide already! I remembered you were leaving early today for an appointment, so I put it together for you earlier.”

Kwon Soonyoung. The most vexing co-worker and human being on the fucking planet.

“Oh, thanks Soonyoung. Can you email it to me?”

“On it!” Soonyoung’s phone is in his hand, and he’s already typing something on the screen. “Done!”

“Thanks! Looks like you’re off the hook, Y/n.” Seungcheol nods in your direction before disappearing out of the doorway once again.

Soonyoung throws a smarmy smirk your way and ducks out of the room before you can say anything to him.

The usual wave of irritation you get whenever you’re in the same room as Kwon Soonyoung washes over you, but you push it down.

In all of the time you’ve been an adult in the working world, you’ve never met someone as annoying as Soonyoung. He’s been an expert at pushing your buttons since he started working at your company six months ago.

When he was hired, you didn’t think anything of him at first. He came into the office, introduced himself, and seemed nice enough, if not loud as all hell. As his time wore on, your disdain for him quickly started.

It started with him giving you unsolicited advice and opinions on your work presentations and projects. He’d comment on the formatting or suggest content. He did it often enough that your dislike for him took over immediately, and he’d only been around for a month so far.

From there, it was trying to one-up you on projects or even get some milestones in assignments done before you or try to do something better than you, just to fuck with you. You’re highly respected and loved at your job, so to have some guy that just started questioning you and competing with you was extremely insulting.

From there, he only continued to piss you off each time you came into contact with him. Whether it was taking the last of whatever free food was in the office, using the last of the paper in the printer and not refilling it, or taking too long in a meeting room you booked - all of which he always just so happened to do only to you - Kwon Soonyoung always got under your skin more than anyone else.

Your months-long beef stayed firm before coming to a head at a company outing at a nearby karaoke place.

Soonyoung, as usual, just had to try and outdo you and get a higher score than you at each song you chose. The alcohol coursing through you that fogged your brain left you at your wit's end, and the urge to kick his ass was strong.

Somehow, that didn’t happen, and instead, you cornered him in the bathroom to tell him off, finally telling him how much he pissed you off and demanding to know why he was so insistent on being a constant thorn in your side.

“You’re so hot. You’re even hotter when you’re pissed off, and you look like you want to strangle me.” He had blurted out, face fiery and crimson, before kissing you right then and there.

You were both drunk, so the rest is a blur until you found yourself aggressively jerking him off in one of the stalls after he had quite literally begged to eat you out.

Once you sobered up the next morning, you quickly realized the full impact of what you’d done and swore to yourself it was just a drunken mistake and that it wouldn’t happen again.

As these things go, it did in fact, happen again. And again. And again.

You’re well aware that the two of you should sit down and talk about this push and pull you constantly do, but the idea of him rearranging your guts always wins out in the end. Plus, the only time Soonyoung knows when to shut the fuck up is when you’re naked behind closed doors so you’ll do anything to do just that. Be it in his office early in the morning, or in your office during lunchtime even in empty meeting rooms, closets, in your cars, and occasionally in either of your apartments after work. If Soonyoung really aggravated you enough in a day, you’d have him in the palm of your hand, figuratively and literally, within hours of his initial offenses.

Something has to serve as payment for him being a constant nuisance multiple times a week, and if it’s him on his knees for you, then so be it.

By the time lunch rolls around, you’ve cooled off from your earlier annoyance and replaced your irritation with hunger. The only thing on your mind is your leftover Thai fried rice waiting for you in the fridge.

The cool air of the refrigerator feels nice against your skin as you excitedly scan for your styrofoam container. You quickly realize you don’t see it as you see everything but your food.

Confusion sets in as you move a few things around, assuming it may have been pushed to the back and out of sight, but your search quickly comes up empty.

“What the fuck?” you mutter, shoving aside a personal pizza and someone’s lunchbox. You know you brought it today, recalling your morning. You brought the rice in the styrofoam container and put it in a plastic bag. You set it to the left of the fridge on the middle shelf and -

“What’s wrong, Y/n?” His voice is loud. It startles you as he suddenly yells across the lunchroom.

With a deep breath, you close your eyes, needing to take a moment before answering him.

“Looking for my lunch,” you answer, still scanning the shelves.

“What does it look like?” You can tell he’s eating with his mouth open, making you scowl.

“White styrofoam in a white plastic bag.” Letting out a sigh, you stand upright, slamming the fridge door in frustration. Your eyes finally shift to Soonyoung, wondering why he hasn’t badgered you with another question.

His arm is frozen in mid-air, a spoonful of rice hovering in front of his open mouth.

The scene would be comical if it wasn’t your lunch that Soonyoung has already eaten half of.

“That’s my lunch!” You blurt. A couple of your coworkers side-eye the two of you from a few tables away.

“Shit, my bad, Y/n! I asked everyone whose it was, and no one knew. There was no name on it!” The twitch of his mouth makes you wonder just how sorry he actually is.

Everything in you wants to curse him out, maybe flip the rest of the rice over on him and dump his soda over his head for good measure. It’s only your countless years of corporate experience that keeps you in check and keeps Soonyoung from getting his ass beat.

Inhaling harshly through your nose, you bite back the words, wanting to explode. “Stop by my office before you head home for the day,” you hiss through gritted teeth. You know he hears you even though your tone is low.

Outwardly you huff and storm off, not giving him a response. That’s frequently your reaction to all of Soonyoung’s antics when others are around, so everyone in the vicinity expects this reaction.

They’re wrong of course because you’re not done getting Soonyoung back, just in a way that no one in the office knows about and can never know.

The voices outside of your office start to lessen significantly the later in the afternoon it gets until it sounds absent of people movement except for you and the man you know is a few offices down.

Over the sounds of your fingers on the keyboard, you can hear his loafers lightly squeaking under his feet, the sound getting nearer until you finally see out of the corner of your eye, Soonyoung popping around the corner.

“You wanted to see me?” His words are innocent, but the knowing smirk on his face that you see when you finally look at him tells you he knows exactly why you told him to see you, and he’s looking forward to it.

“Close the door and make sure it’s locked.” He quickly does as you say while you shut down your computer, officially done with your day. The man across the room from you practically bounces on his heels as he stares at you, awaiting your next move. You take your time standing up, gathering some of the papers and knick-knacks closest to you, and pushing them to the opposite side of the desk.

Finally, you stand up straighter, giving Soonyoung your undivided attention

“Sit,” you gesture to your plush desk chair. Soonyoung doesn’t have to be told twice, all but skipping over and plopping in your chair. His brown eyes glisten with anticipation as he looks up at you, gaze trained on you as you situate yourself directly in front of him.

Letting out a sigh, you hop up to sit on your desk, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why do you insist on always pissing me off, Soonyoung?”

He fights back a smirk. “I can’t help it, Y/n. I just love how sexy you look when you get mad at me. The little crinkle between your eyes, the cute little pout on your lips. You’re doing it now, you know.” Cockiness is evident as he observes you, shameless as he always is when talking about parts of you that he likes.

You scoff. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I don’t know, Y/n. I guess you’ll have to punish me.” The quirk of the corners of his mouth makes you roll your eyes.

“Hmm, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You slowly cross and uncross your legs, ensuring that he catches an eyeful up your skirt as you do.

“Do your worst.” Soonyoung doesn’t hide his unabashed grin this time. He’s gotten too used to you bossing him around when you fuck.

Wanting to get on with it, you hike up your skirt, giving him a full frontal view of your baby blue panties.

As eager and willing as Soonyoung is, he also has some semblance of sense left and doesn’t make a move to touch you. He knows that’s against the rules.

It’s your turn to smirk at him as he gnaws at his bottom lip as you pull your skirt up more, bunching the material at your waist.

His hands clench in his lap, physically holding himself back from pouncing on you. You love it - watching Soonyoung restrain his desire to take what he wants but remembering that that wouldn’t be allowed. From the first time you started messing around with him, Soonyoung wasted no time showing you how much he loved you, directing him, and demanding what you wanted from him, and it never failed to have you soaking through whatever you were wearing.

“Look at you,” you sneer at him, spreading your legs completely. “You wanna eat me out so bad, don’t you?”

Soonyoung furiously nods, his eyes never leaving your clothed core. “So bad. Fuck I can smell you from here,” he groans, licking his lips.

“Oh yeah? I suppose you can at least get a sniff if you want.”

With your legs as wide as is comfortable, you beckon him with a crook of your finger. Soonyoung shoots forward, burying his nose right into the cotton fabric clinging to you, and takes a deep inhale, exhaling shakily. His nose nudges the rapidly forming wet spot on your panties, and you hear him breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth again.

“Mmm, you smell so fucking good,” he’s speaking more to your crotch than you, taking a few more long sniffs before you decide that’s enough.

“I suppose you can have a taste now, if you’re still interested.”

Soonyoung immediately yanks your panties down, moving before you even finish the end of your sentence. He lets your underwear dangle on one of your ankles before quite literally diving mouth-first into your pussy.

His first destination is your clit as he eagerly sucks the bud into his mouth, and you jolt at the spike of pleasure. His tongue swirls around your clit, alternating between that and grazing you now and again with his teeth.

Your back arches off your desk as he moves his head down to stick his tongue into you, lewdly lapping at your wetness, groaning with each slurp. His hands grip your thighs, holding them apart and digging his fingers into your supple skin.

He’s told you before just how much he loves eating you out, and at first, you dismissed his words, skeptical of him. Guys always said shit like that but never truly delivered. Soonyoung did, though - once making you cum seven times over half an hour with just his mouth and fingers.

Every time you fucked him, he learned more and more about everything you liked and didn’t like in bed and where and how to touch you. It’s alarming how expertly Soonyoung became the best fuck you’ve probably ever had, which you’ll never admit to him, but it’s the reason you keep allowing this.

A yelp escapes your lips which you have to quickly stifle as Soonyoung gets lost between your thighs, practically making out with your sticky folds. He’s mumbling praises against your damp skin, saying something about how he wants to live and die between your legs, his nose nudging your clit between words and licks.

Your fingers fly to grasp his hair to keep him in place. Soonyoung grunts into you as he plunges his tongue back into you and stays there, letting you rock your hips against his face. You don’t care that you’re the one moaning now, breathy mewls leaving your mouth as you get closer, your stomach twisting and legs tensing around Soonyoung’s head.

When you cum, your teeth clamp onto your bottom lip, fingers digging into Soonyoung’s scalp as you hold him in place and ride out the pleasure.

He lets you, too, groaning into you, the sound high-pitched and broken as his tongue desperately slurps up your juices. He doesn’t stop there either, of course. Soonyoung never lets you cum only once, and you never really try to stop him.

Two of his thick fingers slip into you as his mouth latches onto your clit.

“S - Soonyoung!” He whimpers from between your legs as you say his name and starts fucking his fingers into you harder, sucking your clit in a way that lets you know he wants you to cum just as badly as you do.

You’re already so sensitive that it doesn’t take too much else for Soonyoung to have you making a mess of his face again, and just as always, he dutifully cleans you up, humming at the taste of you on his tongue - his favorite flavor, he loves to remind you.

Mustering up your remaining energy, you push him back and away as he whines in protest, your slick completely covering from his nose to his chin. Soonyoung flops against your chair, eyes trained on your messy cunt, his critical thinking officially gone as he fixates only on you. The sight alone is enough to have a new wave of wetness gather between your legs.

Soonyoung’s eyes follow as you reach down to pull off your panties completely and set them on the desk. Eyeing the obvious bulge straining against his black slacks, you shake your shoe off one foot and completely rest your foot on his thigh. Soonyoung holds his breath as your foot trails up slowly until you rest it on his crotch. He jumps a little in the chair when you add pressure, teasing him with short strokes.

A curse falls from his lips as you rub against his length, his high-pitched gasps getting to you, but you’re not ready to give him what he wants just yet.

He tries to protest when you move your foot away, but you fix him with a look that makes him shut up.

On shaky legs you shimmy off of your desk and lean forward, undoing Soonyoung’s pants. He lifts his hips as you ease both his pants and underwear down to pool at his feet. He gasps as the cool air of your office hits his erection, but it’s quickly replaced by a moan when you wrap a hand around his girth and pump.

The room is quiet save for the sounds Soonyoung makes as you ease into his lap, your hand still working him. You trail your other hand up his arm, fingers walking up to the nape of his neck.

Tangling your fingers in the fine hair, you pull him down, swallowing his moans in a kiss. Plush, needy lips move over yours, your teeth clacking together as you stroke Soonyoung faster. You can still taste yourself on him, which has you clenching harder and sucking his tongue into your mouth. His hands grab your thighs, hips moving faster, breathing getting more erratic.

With a smirk, you break the kiss, and Soonyoung throws his head back. His skin is red, neck and cheeks are flushed, a bright scarlet color that looks delectable on him.

“Look at you, baby boy. So close already just from eating me out?”

“Mmhmm! Fuck, I love eating your pussy….”

“Yeah? You think you should get a reward for making me cum?”

He nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing rapidly as you twist your wrist the way you know he likes and lean forward to lick a stripe up the expanse of his neck. Soonyoung’s hands dart up to grasp your waist, his blunt nails clawing at the fabric of your skirt.

You sink your teeth into the skin just above his collarbones, and he says your name in a yelp. The muscles in his thighs clench so hard you can feel them stiffen under you. Right as his breathing quickens even more, and you know he’s going to cum, you wrap both hands around his girth and squeeze hard, stopping him from cumming.

Soonyoung choked yelp, eyes shooting open to stare wildly at you.

“Why should I make it that easy for you when you pissed me off today?”

“Please, I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, I’m sorry!” He’s pleading, with you, hands trembling as he grips your waist.

With a hum, your thumb massages his leaking tip, smearing precum all over the sensitive tip. With both hands, you jerk him off again, placing little kisses on his lips and chin. Soonyoung practically purrs your name as he builds up to his peak again, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth.

Just as before, you don’t allow him, removing both hands completely before he can cum.

He cries out again, and you swear you can see actual tears pooling in his eyes. Soonyoung lets out the cutest, most pathetic sounds, apologizing to you again, begging again.

“You wanna cum that bad?”

“So bad! So so so bad!” Wet eyes lock onto yours, bottom lip jutting out as he whispers again that he’s sorry for earlier. You hate how pretty he looks like this, red and teary-eyed just for you.

Your hands start a slow pace on his length again. He watches, eyes glazing over as your lips purse, and you let a string of saliva drip down, mixing with his precum.

You work him up one final time, even playing with his balls, before you pull your hands away again.

“Nooo! Please, please, Miss please, let me cum!” Soonyoung babbles at you, pulling you closer to him by your hips.

Tugging his hair, you pull his head back. “You wanna cum that bad, huh?”

“I need it, Miss, please, it hurts!”

A tear slips out the corner of his eye, and you can’t help but take a little pity on him, but you mostly want him to fuck the remaining irritation out of you like he so often does.

“If you want to cum it’ll be in my cunt.” Soonyoung’s ‘yes’ is loud and eager, quickly bending to the side to dig a shaky hand into the back pocket of his pants to present a condom to you.

Letting out a small laugh, you take the package, open it, and roll it on him. “Good boy. You came prepared for me?”

“Yes, always. Always good for you!” This version of Soonyoung is so different from the version everyone else sees. When it’s the two of you, he’s so pliant and submissive - a drastic difference from the Soonyoung that cheerily greets people from across the office in the morning and is always laughing loud enough for everyone in a 5-mile radius to hear.

Once the rubber is snug on him, you lift up a little sink onto him, Soonyoung’s eyes closing so tightly you think he’ll give himself a headache. Your eyes slip closed, too, letting him stretch you out inch by inch until he’s sheathed in you completely.

The number of times you’ve fucked Soonyoung is too many to count, but each time you love how full he makes you feel. His length almost too much for you to handle.

With you on top, you control the pace, so you move your hips slowly, adjusting to him for a few moments. Soonyoung wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer to him so that your clothed chest is pressed against his cheek.

His eyes are still closed as he moans into your cleavage, your name amongst the words he mumbles. You anchor your knees on either side of him and begin bouncing in his lap, the chair squeaking in protest with every drop of your hips.

When you and Soonyoung are together, and he knows that there’s a chance you’ll get caught, he’s usually good at keeping himself in check even if it pains him, but when you’re somewhere with total privacy, he’s all high-pitched cries and whines. He doesn’t hold anything back, and this time is no different. Needy mewls tumble out of his mouth as he thrusts up, his hips meeting yours and nearly knocking you off balance.

“Fuck, Y/n!”

“Feel good, Soonie? Your hands rest on his shoulders, digging your nails into his broad shoulders.

“Incredible holy shit! Always so p-perfect. You’re s-so perfect!”

The praise does get you, more wetness seeping out around his length as you ride him harder, the backs of your thighs almost sticking to his thighs with sweat. Soonyoung lets out more sounds of desperation, his breathy sobs bouncing off your office's white walls.

To occupy his loud mouth, you yank your shirt and bra up to bunch around your neck and bring his head down. Without even needing to be told, he latches onto one of your nipples as you ride him, and his other hand, not holding your waist in a death grip, moves up to cup your other breast. Soonyoung’s tongue flicks at your nipple, twirling the muscles around the nub before sloppily sucking it back into his mouth.

“Fuck…you’re so good with your mouth Soonie,” you curse, arching into his face more as you swivel your hips. Your words only spur him on, making him lap at your nipple with even more urgency as he moans out around you.

Somewhere through your haze, you hear the sound of the office door slamming in the distance. You slow your movements, telling Soonyoung to shut up, but he doesn’t. Even with your tit in his mouth, he’s still mewling loud enough that if anyone were to stand in front of your door, they’d surely hear him.

Looking over your shoulder at the closed door, your eyes take note of your blue panties still on your desk. Leaning back, you snatch them up and shove them into Soonyoung’s mouth mid-moan. He groans deep in his chest, but the fabric muffles him enough that you don’t think you'll get caught.

You can hear faint voices somewhere in the office but can’t make out who it is or where exactly they are. Soonyoung doesn’t even seem to notice, so wrapped up in thrusting his hips up into yours, chasing his peak.

“Needy boy. You wanna cum so bad you don’t even care that we could get caught,” your tone is low as you whisper in his ear, your teeth catching briefly on his lobe.

He mumbles something around your underwear that you can’t make out, but he’s nodding as he says it.

“Mmm, what a slut. So pussy drunk and desperate to cum.” More tears well in Soonyoung’s eyes as he nods again, letting out more inaudible words.

The squeak of your desk chair suddenly seems ten times louder now that the two of you have to be quiet, and your knees are starting to hurt, so you stop moving and ease him out of you.

Soonyoung furrows his eyebrows, your soiled underwear quieting his noises as he attempts to make grabby hands at you.

You can’t help but giggle at him. The sight in front of you is equally cute and one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. Hopping back onto your desk, you drop your thighs open, presenting yourself to him.

“Come on and fill me up like a good boy,” you whisper, your fingers moving to spread your sopping folds to tease him a bit more.

Soonyoung typically doesn’t need to be told anything twice when you’re hooking up. He’s out of the chair and burying his cock into you in record time, fucking into you as if his life depends on it. He drags you almost to the end of your desk as he rocks his hips, his thighs smacking into the back of yours.

The sound of skin against skin may very well be just as loud, maybe louder, as his sounds, but the drag of Soonyoung’s cock against your walls is too good for you to care very much at this point. If you can finish quickly enough you doubt you’ll get caught anyway.

“Ah, yes…you’re fucking me so good, Soonie!”

From above you, Soonyoung grunts, eyes slipping closed as he ruts against you, fingertips pressing bruises into your thighs, the slight pain shooting straight to your core. Bringing your legs up, you wrap them around his waist and pull him closer, sweaty bodies pressing together, which allows him to plunge in and out of you faster. Soonyoung’s body weight holds you against the desk, his eyelids drooping as drool dribbles from the corner of his mouth, your panties still between his teeth.

“You better not cum before me, or I won’t touch you for days.” You warn him between heavy breaths, already knowing he’s getting closer.

His eyes finally focus, boring down into yours. He fumbles to fit one of his hands between your bodies to press his fingers against your clit, your body jolting at the stimulation.

“Shit, just like that! Make me cum all over your cock, baby.”

His eyes are wide and full of lust as he watches your face, observing how your mouth hangs open, eyes screwing shut. Teasing him as much as you did already put you on edge, so it only takes a few more deep thrusts and flicks at your clit to have the band in your stomach snap. You clamp your hand over your mouth, back arching and eyes rolling back as you cum.

Soonyoung drops his head into your neck, his body shaking violently as he cums right after you, letting out muffled cries into your skin.

Both of you can barely control your breathing as you come down, listening and waiting for the voices in the office to fade. Once the front office door slams shut again, everything outside of your door is still again.

Weakly, Soonyoung eases himself out of you and slumps in your chair, pulling your underwear out of his mouth and letting it land in his lap. You pull your tired body upright and move to grab your nearby tissues to clean up, but Soonyoung springs forward to grab the box and wipes you up instead.

“Holy shit,” Soonyoung breathes out once you’re cleaned up.

Rolling your eyes at him, you pull your shirt back down, then your skirt, rearranging your clothes.

“You’re buying me a new lunch tomorrow,” you finally say as you ease yourself off of your desk. Soonyoung shoots you the same shit-eating grin he gives you when everyone else is around as he pulls his pants back up.

“Sure, I can do that. Sorry again about that. I swear I didn’t know it was yours.” His grin tells you otherwise.

“Mmhmm.” The skeptical look you give him makes him chuckle.

You accept his answer, already knowing that there are plenty of things he does with the sole intent of getting you to fuck him for it later. The lunch stunt is one of those things.

Soonyoung fixes his clothes and leaves your office, heading to his own to get his things as you gather your bag and phone.

The both of you turn your lights off and walk out of the office and to the parking lot together. He rambles about some new show he’s watching, and you only half listen. Neither of you ever seems to make a move to make this thing you have be anything more than what it is, but in true Soonyoung fashion, he still makes sure to be his normal self, running his mouth as if you hadn’t been degrading the man not too long ago.

“See you tomorrow, Y/n.” There’s a look on his face that tells you to expect more fuckery from him tomorrow.

“Bye, Soonyoung.” You give him a tiny smile, but only for a second, with emphasis on tiny.

It isn’t until you get home and start to undress for a shower does it hit you that you’re not wearing your underwear.

Soonyoung took your fucking panties. You snatch your phone from the counter to text him.

[Y/n] Kwon Soonyoung, you better bring me my fucking underwear tomorrow!

He texts you back almost immediately.

[Kwon Soonyoung] Oh no, did I take them? Guess you’ll have to punish me for it 🫢

As always, Soonyoung is still the most irritating person you’ve ever met, which you know will never change.

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sweetheart-satoru · 9 months

Text

bit by the spider

the story of gojo satoru, your friendly neighbourhood spiderman

author's note: hi sillies, idk if im gonna turn this into a series but i was working out and my brain went boom, spiderman gojo!!! so it was like duh, now i need to write it out. lemme know if you guys like it!!

song: the motto by drake 🙏🏾🙏🏾

life was always hard for gojo satoru. his parents were barely in his life even if they all lived in the same house. by the time he went to sleep, they got home. and when he woke up, they were gone. the poor boy never got a chance to talk to his parents often, other than the times they would argue on the phone by call or text.

he wasn't complaining, though. the blue-eyed boy never minded his parents being gone all the time, no, he enjoyed it. he loved every day he could relax without seeing or listening to his parent's constant arguing. satoru grew up crying himself to sleep, hoping to live his fairy-tale life of happiness.

"yo, satoru!" suguru called out to him from the door as satoru packed his books into his book bag. "hm?" he hums, preparing to leave. satoru wasn't in a very good mood as he had to excuse himself during class because his parents were calling him, complaining about how he got an A- and not an A+, he tried to tell them they were interrupting another class, and that if he missed even more because of them he could get his grade lower, and after that, they hung up.

"wanna come over? shoko, haibara, nanami, meimei, and some others are coming over to chill. you up for it, or nah?" suguru waits by the door, hoping for a positive answer so they can head out and get lunch, "yeah, sure. why not? i got nothing to do today." satoru grins, patting suguru's back, "can we get snacks to eat by the vending machine quickly, they finally got my favourite candy bar back in, all restocked." suguru rolls his eyes, "yeah, yeah, sure. hurry though, i want real food."

you let out a huge groan, kicking the vending machine. "you whore! give me my chocolate bar that i paid good money on!" shoko chuckles, "i swear, every time you try and buy something from this vending machine, it always takes your money but never gives in return. you spent your entire lunch break trying to get the chocolate bar out of here last week, no?"

sighing, you nod. "it hates me. shoko, what do i do?!" you continue and try to shake the machine harder and harder but to no avail. when you hear a cough behind you, you see a tall, white-haired man. "are you done?"

"no, it won't give me my damn chocolate bar." he just rolls his eyes, "you've been abusing and arguing with a machine for five minutes, can you just let me get my shit so i can leave?"

now it's your turn to roll your eyes, "satoru, don't be rude." shoko smacks the back of his head, "ow.." he rubs his head, putting his money in the machine. you slyly grin, knowing that if you couldn't get your chocolate bar, he wouldn't get his.

only for your grin to drop immediately when you saw him three seconds late happily with his stupid candy bar. "what the hell?!" you hiss, watching as he and his friend cockily walk away. shoko just laughs, "you should just give up, the machine doesn't love you."

you pout, "shoko that's all the money i brought today, now i can't buy lunch." she just pats your back, "come on, ill buy you something." watching as your eyes light up, she grins, "you owe me, though." you nod, "mhm! yeah!"

after hanging out for hours at suguru's, satoru starts walking home. he could call one of his drivers but he doesn't feel like it. he wants to try and get a shortcut home, he feels so sweaty, all he wants to do is shower and chill in his bed. his homework can wait.

he tries remembering how his driver got to his house faster but he got lost in an alley. "uhh, so he didn't drive here..." he states the obvious. he's about to turn before he trips and falls backwards, "oh fuck!" he hisses, landing on his ass.

“ouchie,” he turns to look at what tripped him and it was a can of soda. an empty one at that. “stupid littering people.” satoru looks down on his pants to see they’re stained with mud. “ew..”

satoru placed his hand beside him to help himself up before he felt something webby touch him. he makes a gross face when he saw he touched a spider web. “yuck..!” and he hopes the spider wasn’t there when he touched it.

in the corner of his eyes he sees a spider on his sleeve. he only frowns and tries to flick it off. when he can’t see it on him anymore, he gets up at starts to leave.

as he’s about to leave he falls again.

nah i’m just playing.

he felt a small bite on the back of his neck, “tch, ow..” satoru flings the bug off his neck and leaves. he touches the spot that stings and can feel it swelling a bit.

but he just shrugs and continues his way home, (it took longer than his usual route because he doesn’t know the new way home properly), even with the embarrassing mud stains. he’s pretty sure some girls were laughing at him cause they thought he shit his pants or something. poor guy, not too good with the ladies.

today gojo satoru woke up earlier than his alarm, but when he woke up he feels off. so off. his muscles and abs feel different. they feel stronger, for some reason, he doesn't know. he hasn't changed anything in his diet or his workouts. so what could possibly be different?

gojo satoru is a hygienic guy. he wakes up and showers, and he goes to bed after showering. but his stupid bathroom door nob is annoying because it's really broken. he doesn't know how it broke, it broke months ago. but it always refuses to open. especially in the morning.

"ugh.. just open!" he knows if he puts a little force, it will open. but today.. oh boy did he not only open the door, accidentally slamming it into the wall and breaking some hinges, he broke off the door nob too. "oh shit.." he didn't even try that hard, so how did it completely rip apart from the door? that never happened before.

now he was annoyed. his door being too loud in the morning, the door nob breaking, and not getting his full hours of sleep was pissing him off. he groans when he hears the stupid fly in his room buzzing at 5 in the morning (4:48 am if you wanna be specific).

when the fly comes buzzing in his face, satoru knows the little punk has it out for him, he slams his fist into the little parasite, accidentally punching a hole in his wall. "what the fuck?" satoru's eyes widen. although there were three things broken in satoru's room, the fly was dead.

but when did satoru get so strong? i mean, he is strong, but he's crazy strong now. "never mind, screw the morning shower." he quickly makes a call to his mom, telling her to get people to fix his room so by the time he comes back it would be all better. in the meantime, he just does his usual morning routine, minus the shower.

(he broke a few more objects in his bathroom, closet, and room as he tried to get ready.)

you're late. you're rushing into class before you accidentally trip on someone's feet. "shit!" you exclaim, readying yourself for the fall before the someone grabs your arm, catching you before you could fall.

“thank you..!” you grin, fixing yourself up. turning yourself around you see the white haired boy again. he just nods, “mhm, yeah.. whatever.” frowning, you walk away. “fucking rude.” you flick your hair behind, going back to rushing to class.

he heard you, he just didn’t care.

when you make it to your class you apologize, to which your teacher let you off easy, telling you it’s okay just make sure to be on time next time. when you take your seat, next to your best friend, shoko, you greet her.

“shoko, how are you friends with the white-haired guy? he’s so rude.” she nods, sighing, “i dont even know myself, we aren’t that close though. we just chill and talk.”

you also sigh, “damnn..” you were going to start more conversation with her before your teacher interrupts. “well guys, as you know this class is one of the advanced classes in the school. today, we have a new student joining this class. please welcome gojo satoru.”

shoko just gives you a look. “that’s him.” you slouch, “awh, i was hoping for another girl. we have barely any girls in this class.” she nods, agreeing. “for real.”

the door slides open to reveal a certain white haired boy. the teacher just tells him to introduce himself, and while he does that you get bored and look out the window.

“now, i know the month of november is ending, that means new seating arrangements for december.” you wanna groan, but you don’t wanna get in more trouble, so you keep it to yourself. “i don’t wanna switch without you shoko.” you quietly whisper. she just pats your thigh, “it’ll be okay..” she knows it’s not. she’s your only friend in the school, honestly. and your her best friend. the month will go by sooo slow.

“but don’t look so disappointed, we will switch sweats november 30 at the end of the day so by december 1, in the morning you will have your seats.” it’s only november 22, so you have a few more days with shoko. you grin, “yeah!”

“gojo, you make take a seat next to suguru.” satoru lets out a small smile as he walks beside suguru, “hey, man.” suguru grins, “finally! i waited two weeks for you to finally be in my class.” satoru rolls his eyes, “i know, you’ve been complaining.”

shoko rolls her eyes, “can you two shut up?”

they both give her a sheepish grin.

“sorry shokooo.”

days later and satoru got his shit together. he learn he can cling to walls, and learned he can shoot webs from his wrists. he has a suit, a good one at that, and has been going around the city basically saving the city.

his suit is muted blue with a pretty white spider on his chest and his back, with some of the designs a dark blue.

he's all over television, the news, social media, and everywhere you can think of. his face, well, his mask, his always shown. he walks down the streets and sees posters, banners and pictures up on the walls and floors and he'll see himself. his spiderman self.

he tries not to let the fame get to him, and make him cocky but please, it's just so much fun. he keeps it to himself, though. telling absolutely no one.

it's nighttime, and he's bored. his parents aren't home, and he's got nothing to do. so what else would a teenage boy with weird powers do on another boring night?

he swings around the city, from one web to another, looking out for anything suspicious. when he sees a lady getting robbed he drops in. "aw come on! don't you know it's rude to steal? did your mother never teach you how to be polite?" the robber's eyes widen, snapping around. "you! web boy!"

satoru rolls his eyes under his mask, scoffing. "come on," he points to the spider symbol on his chest, and then turns around to show another on his back, "can't you see, it's spiderman! not web boy."

the robber just ignores him, showing his knife. "oh no!" satoru sarcastically gasps. "a knife! small knives are my weakness! oh, how did you know!?" and in a flash the robber is webbed up, body stuck in webs and stuck on the wall. satoru grabs the lady's purse off the floor, "here you go! stay safe, lady!" she quickly thanks him and dashes off, probably back home.

he grabs the robber's phone, checking the time, it's almost one in the morning. "hey, that's mine!" satoru just ignores him, webbing his mouth before tossing the phone to his feet, "yeah, yeah. whatever."

he can hear the sirens of police making their way to the scene. "aw, they don't like me. gotta go!"

and he makes his way into an alley where he's so sure no one is, and takes off his suit to make his way back to his home.

author’s note: bye this is the longest thing i’ve ever written and i feel it’s not even good 😞 lemme know if you guys want more. (please say yes i want gojo and reader to meet while he’s spiderman 🙏🏾)

#gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x reader #spiderman gojo satoru #this lowkey sucks im sorry guys

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vinsmokewife · 7 months

Text

finally, some good fucking food

day ten of a very zosan centric kinktober - rimming

Zoro's hungry and Sanji offers him food. He's not interested in eating food.

“I’m hungry...”

No, that wasn’t the annoying cries of Luffy calling out and demanding food like Sanji might have thought it was as those words tend to come out of his mouth. Sanji, due to a habit of hearing that, might have thought it was him but no, didn’t hear Luffy say that. He turned around to see Zoro standing by the kitchen door, closing it behind him.

“Well... there’s leftovers in the fridge...” Sanji said dismissively as he continued to work on the dishes from lunch time. After he was done there, he would be working on getting midday snacks (mostly for Nami and Robin and the others...if they were lucky) so he didn’t have time to make anything especially for Zoro but he got the idea when he felt two strong arms grab him from behind, wrapping his arms around his waist. Sanji almost instinctively whacked Zoro with the glass plate with the intention of kicking him to send him flying but he did not.

“I’m not interested in eating food...” The swordsman spoke lowly in Sanji’s ear. There was only one thing Zoro wanted in his mouth. He’d been thinking about it all day. He liked watching Sanji suck him off. As much as Sanji would deny it, he loved how much Sanji seemed to be into it. However, sometimes, Zoro wanted to do something for Sanji. Sometimes, Zoro wanted to eat Sanji out.

“I’m busy,” Sanji was indeed busy. As much as he wanted to indulge Zoro in his little fantasy, he also had a lot of work to do today.

“Come on...you never leave a man hungry. I am absolutely famished here, cook,” Zoro’s hand reached down to grab at that perfect rear of Sanji’s. He just had such a nice shape to his ass, and he needed to have a taste, “Let me eat you out...”

It wasn’t often Zoro was being oddly nice about something. Normally, as per the nature of their relationship, Zoro orders him about and Sanji agrees to do it anyway, but he was being oddly nice about this considering this was probably so tame anyway.

“Ugh. Fine... but only this...anything else any you’ll need to wait till tonight,” Sanji placed the plate down and turned around to see Zoro standing with his arms around him, “Got that, mosshead,”

“Yeah, yeah I hear you...” Zoro said but didn’t waste time by beginning to unbutton Sanji’s suit pants. Sanji sighed something along calling Zoro a brute for being so impatient, but Zoro was a man on a mission. He wanted to eat the cooks ass like it was his last meal and he was going to make sure that Sanji really enjoyed it so he could eat his words about it later.

Once he managed to get Sanji’s pants down, he then removed his boxers and helped him get out of them. Although Sanji protested because ‘you can’t just have sex on the counter you brute that’s where we eat food’ Zoro didn’t care about that as he picked Sanji up and placed him on the table. He got Sanji to lay down on the table and spread the cook’s legs.

Zoro stood up and looked at the cook. His face was flushed, and his cock was starting to harden. He could see what he wanted; that perfect puckered hole. All for the taking. All for him.

“You look like the most perfect meal I’ve seen in my life...”

Sanji flushed although didn’t know whether to be offended that he looked better than his own cooking, but he couldn’t get a word in before Zoro leaned in front of him and began to dive in. Zoro, despite clearly enjoying this act never ate him out much because Sanji always felt it was a little...strange at first. The feeling of Zoro’s tongue against his hole always felt weird at first. There was also that whole thing about a man eating him out which Sanji still found to be taboo to him.

Zoro didn’t care. He had concluded a long time ago that he had no attraction to women. This wasn’t taboo to him in the same way that it was to Sanji, but he knew Sanji thought it was a little strange, so he merely used his tongue to get the hole nice and wet for him. Sanji always tasted great, but he expected that from someone who was big on cleaning. His tongue and his lips wet the rim. To ease off any weirdness that Sanji probably felt, he reached his hand up to stroke the cook’s cock in hopes that that might ease some of it for him and help him relax.

Which it did. It started to bring out more moans from Sanji who eagerly bucked his hips upwards.

It felt good. Weirdly, it began to felt good and Zoro could tell so the swordman went in. His tongue slips inside the wet hole and wiggles while his lips sucked on the puckered rim. This earned more moans from Sanji as Zoro’s hand began to move faster in slow yet firm strokes over his cock.

“Zoro...”

Zoro looked up to see Sanji’s face was flushed red and his eyes were watching him in that lustful expression. There wasn’t a hotter sight to him than that.

Zoro leaned his head up but only so he could spit some drool across Sanji’s hole so he could go in again. His tongue fully slipping in as his lips massaged and sucked on the rim. Sanji’s hips were getting more frantic, so Zoro knew that he was close to cumming. He honestly could be down here for hours making Sanji come over and over again until he was spent and seeing stars. However, he knew that Sanji had other things to be getting on with. Plus, he was satisfied with this being their little visit for today.

Zoro continued to work messily. His tongue and lips doing work on the puffy hole as Zoro’s had stroked Sanji. Eventually, it became too much, and Sanji came with a yelp, walls fluttering around Zoro’s tongue as he came all over his hand. Zoro continued to eat Sanji out until he was too sensitive. He then pulled his head away before licking the cum off his hand in a weirdly lewd way that Sanji hadn’t expected to see. Sanji’s head was against the table.

Finally, Sanji leaned up, looking half lidded at Zoro, “Satisfied?”

Zoro laughed, “Satisfied. The best meal I’ve had in a while,”

#one piece zosan #zoro x sanji #zosan fanfic #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #zosan #kinktober 2023

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statelysapphic · 9 months

Text

Letters to Emily

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Summary: When Ian Doyle takes away the one person you love, you find solace in writing her letter.

Warnings: Typical talk of Emily being dead. Hurt. Let me know if I missed something<3

A/N: Hi friends! It’s been a while. I’ve been working on this for a while, and idk how I feel about it. I very lightly edited this. Feedback is appreciated as always. Ao3 Link. Enjoy!<3

July 26, 2011

Emily,

I accepted the job. I’m not sure what would piss you off more though: the fact that it’s a desk job or the fact that it’s in Phoenix and I’m leaving Quantico. Leaving the team. I know you’d tell me that I’m making a huge mistake but it’s just too painful.

JJ brings me coffee every morning, just like you did, and even though I know she means well, it’s a painful reminder that you will never bring me coffee again. When I look up from my desk in the bullpen to see the empty one across from me, I’m reminded that I won’t be able to watch you work anymore. I loved watching you pour over files, watching the gears turn in your head. Putting the pieces together and catching the bad guy. You were brilliant.

Emily paused as her vision blurred, the burning sensation of tears threatening to spill catches her attention and shifts her focus. She was angry. Angry at Doyle for forcing her into this mess. Angry at JJ for not telling her that you transferred. Angry at Hotch for even approving your transfer request. Angry at Derek, Spencer, and Penelope; Did they even try to convince you to stay? She took a deep breath, and then another. As she felt her heart rate return to normal, she wiped the tears away from her cheeks and continued reading.

Everything here is a painful reminder of you. Everything. I walk past a framed photo of you every single day and it guts me. Every single time. I can’t keep doing it, so I’m running. I know you’d be so disappointed in me. Virginia isn’t home without you, Em. It stopped feeling like home when JJ told me you “never made it off the table.” I don’t think I’ll ever find your feeling of home again.

I’m not sure how to tell the team about the transfer. Maybe I’ll buy them a round after this case and break the news to them then. Booze and karaoke should soften them up, right?

I don’t think they’re going to take it well. I just hope they skip the guilt trip.

I hate to end this on a sad note, so I will say that I think Arizona will be good for me. Lots of sunshine and wide open spaces. New people, new experiences. I actually think I’m excited, even though I feel guilty for it. I suppose that will get better with time. I don’t know if I’ve told you this, the one item on my bucket list is to go rockhounding out west. Maybe I’ll treat myself once I get settled.

I miss you so much, Em. But I love you even more. Always.

Emily refolded the letter and slid it back into its envelope. As she placed it on the coffee table in front of her, she finally allowed herself to cry. She had done everything in her power to protect you from Doyle and her past. Although you were physically safe, it was clear from your letters that the emotional toll was severe. She was only about halfway through the stack that she found in your bedside table, and she still had three months worth left to read. She knew she wouldn’t finish by the time you got home, but that was okay.

The raven haired woman sighed, picking up the next letter in the pile.

August 12, 2011

Emmy,

Fuck I miss you today. I wish you would’ve been here to ground me though that. Or kick some ass for me. The movers were nice enough to break my bed frame while bringing it up the stairs and then denied doing it. I watched him drop it, babe. I wasn’t even mad until he denied it. Don’t worry, I called the manager and received a full refund for the trouble.

I wish you were here to cuddle on this couch with me. I miss the way you’d hold me. I felt untouchable when I was in your arms. I think you’d like this new apartment though. The master bedroom has a killer view AND a balcony. It also has plenty of south facing windows for my houseplants, and room for many more. My collection has grown exponentially since you’ve seen it last. As odd as it sounds, they’ve helped me through this.

Sorry for the short letter today. Who knew moving halfway across the country would be so tiring? Could’ve fooled me. I love you, Emily. Always.

Emily chuckled lightly at your sarcasm, but soon felt the tears return.

Sadness began to fade within Emily, and anxiety soon took its place. She was unsure of how you would react when you came home after a long day at work to find your not-actually-dead partner sitting in your living room, reading your private letters, no less. Sure, they were technically addressed to her, but she knows you never thought anyone would read them. Maybe this wasn’t the best way to do this, but Emily vehemently rejected all help that the team offered. Hotch offered to call your Supervisor to have them sit you down to talk you through it. JJ nearly begged Emily to help in some capacity, already feeling immense guilt over the situation. Though, she almost let Rossi accompany her when he offered, and she was beginning to regret not doing so.

The regret faded almost instantly as Emily heard a key in the front door. Her heart rate increased and her chest became tight. The reality of the situation had settled in for Emily, and the uncertainty was paralyzing. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, a sorry attempt to calm her nerves, as she braced herself to face you. She heard the door shut, followed by footsteps that grew louder and louder until there was silence. Emily didn’t dare look up. Even as she heard the loud clatter of what she assumed were your keys colliding with the hardwood apartment floor.

“E… Emmy?”

#emily prentiss x reader #wlwfic #wlw fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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mamawasatesttube · 1 year

Note

“When you laugh like that, it just — you’re so beautiful, you know that?” for the ficlet prompt pls !! love your writing so so much ❤️

Tim is a very serious guy, busy doing very serious work.

"—still don't know why anyone would write this! Actually, who the fuck paid them to write this?! Is this the state of journalism in today's world?" Bart flails a hand at his laptop screen, laughing so hard he's turning red. "Someone—someone got paid to write—to write this?! This is a self-help article?!"

"I just don't—why would you—" Kon stares at the screen, too, fingers steepled and pressed to his lips in deep consternation. "I can't even finish my dramatic reading! Why would—why would—who even wants to phone a friend in the middle of doing an enema?"

Tim is a very serious guy, busy doing very serious work, by which he means playing Minesweeper while listening to his very un-serious friends read a how-to guide on, for some reason, coffee enemas. It happens. He really did mean to get work done, but sitting in the common room was a mistake; he's just been listening and swallowing laughter for the past ten minutes.

"I can promise you this. If any of you ever phone me with anything up your ass, we are not friends anymore," Cassie says, sounding disturbed.

That does it. Tim's finger slips and clicks a bomb instead of a safe tile as he wheezes with sudden, explosive laughter.

All three of them whip around to look at him; Bart is the first to crack into giggles, too, then Kon smothers a chuckle into his hands, and finally Cassie slumps back onto the cushions behind her, cackling. Tim really, truly does try to get ahold of himself, but it's a losing battle at this point.

"Where did you even find this article, Bart?" he manages, grinning breathlessly. "Send me the link." It sounds like a great way to harass Dick, and Tim needs to do that yesterday.

"Why?" Bart shoots back immediately. "Feeling inspired?"

"You better not call me when you try it out," Cassie wheezes.

Kon, meanwhile...

Oh. Wait. What's up with Kon? He's still grinning, but it's a softer look than before; his eyes sparkle with warmth as he looks at Tim, perching in the bay window. That's a very, ah... fond? Yes, fond. A very fond look for someone whose companions are currently losing their shit about a self-help article about coffee enemas.

Tim meets his gaze and quirks an eyebrow. Kon blinks at him, seeming surprised; did he think Tim wouldn't notice him gazing over like that?

"Sorry, sorry," Kon says, though he certainly doesn't sound particularly sorry. “When you laugh like that, it just—man, you’re so beautiful, you know that?”

Tim's face immediately flames. That's rich, coming from the most beautiful guy in not just the room, but the entire city. Country. World? Yeah, world. "Uh."

"Oh my god, shut the fuck up, you're so sappy!" Bart groans, smacking Kon on the shoulder. Kon, because he's Kon, just preens at his complaints. "Stop being a cheese before I kick your ass!"

"Be careful that it doesn't have coffee in it!" Cassie snickers into her hands.

Normally, Tim would join in on the ribbing. Right now, though, he's still a little stuck on Kon just casually calling him beautiful for laughing. What the fuck. They've been officially dating for two weeks! He can't just spring that kind of thing on Tim! And the worst (best) part is, because he's Kon, Tim knows he's being completely genuine about it!

Why did this have to happen during this, of all conversations?

"Now, Bart," Kon says, and aggressively ruffles Bart's hair. "You know Tim is the only one here with the rights to touch my ass, kicking or not."

Bart blows an obnoxiously loud raspberry. Tim drops his face into his hands.

Yeah, he's a serious guy, alright. Real serious about... starting a new game of Minesweeper and listening to his friends continue to be a bunch of comedians.

♥ soft sentence starters ♥

#writing short ficlets rather than longer stuff with room to breathe and trying to be funny without feeling like it's ooc/crack #is Insanely hard for me actually! PHEW that was a challenge (but in a good way!) (at least i hope it came out good LOL)#anyway this article is real and does exist my friends and i read it together once #''if you ever call me with something up your ass we aren't friends anymore'' is a direct quote from duck <3 #timkon #tim #kon #core four #bart #cassie #huilannie #rimi writes

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lulubelle814 · 3 months

Text

Regards, Loki - Chapter 35

Master List

It was the day of the gala, and Louisa was spending her morning baking out her nerves. She was finally going to meet her Loki tonight. Cora came in, not even bothering to knock.

“You don’t need to be nervous, lady!”

Louisa looked at her. “I’m not nervous.”

Cora looked all around the kitchen at the baked goods. “Want to try that one more time?”

She scoffed in return. “Fine. I’m nervous. I’m incredibly nervous. What if he takes one look at me and runs the opposite direction?”

“He’d be a complete moron if he did. If anyone runs away from anyone, it’ll be you running away from him, but I don’t see that happening.” She snatches her friend’s phone and scrolls through the messages between her and Loki. “This guy is obviously crazy about you.”

Louisa let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know. What if it’s a catfish scam? What if…….”

Cora cut her off. “No more what ifs. You’re meeting him in a public location at an event that is invite only to a masquerade gala that is posted all over the Labyrinth discords for those who wish they could go and are starving for pictures during and after the event. It will be okay.”

“And what if it’s not?”

“If it’s not, then leave and catch the first cab you can. Or call me. I’ll bring Chad and Brad with me, and we’ll get in and kick his ass.”

They both laughed. “You’re the best.”

Cora smiled. “Of course! That’s what I’m here for. I just wish I could go with you when you get your hair and makeup and stuff done for it. I have a project I have to work on this afternoon.”

Louisa thought for a moment. “You know what? I should have enough time to stop by the cafe for a bit before going there? That way you and the boys can see me in all my glory rather than just pictures?”

Cora squealed. “YES! That would be amazing!”

“Consider it done.” She smiled at her friend. The baking was almost complete. The last of it just needed to cool off. Louisa started boxing up everything else.

“Is that going to the cafe?” Louisa noded in confirmation. “Yep. I figure why not. Hopefully the guys won’t mind an extra drop off.”

“Lady, you’re crazy to think they’d mind extra goodies. I went by for our drinks on my way here, and they were already sold out.”

“Really?” She was stunned. Cora nodded. “They weren’t lying when they said your treats sell out fast. When will you take them there?”

Louisa thought for a moment. “I’ll probably go by after the brownies have cooled off so I can box those up too.”

“You’ll have to take the back entrance so you don’t get mauled.”

Louisa laughed.

Cora didn’t. “Seriously. Take the back entrance. Let the guys know when you’re on your way, especially if you want to protect your anonymity as their baker. I found a facebook page in tribute to your baked goods, and people are trying to figure out who the mystery baker is.”

She pulled out her phone and pulled up the facebook group to show her, and Louisa’s eyes went wide.

Without further hesitation, she pulled out her phone and let the guys know she’d be coming by the back entrance in 30 minutes with some more goodies. It didn’t take more than 2 seconds for either of them to respond with cheering emojis and gifs.

Cora had to take off and gave her friend a hug. “I’ll be at the cafe when I finish!” Louisa waved her off.

10 minutes later, the brownies were cooled. Shortly after, she cut them into squares and packed them up. She had to get 3 oversized totes to load up everything. Although the bakery wasn’t super far, she decided to take a taxi this time to save herself the hassle of walking that far with such a large load.

The driver of the taxi she got was incredibly nice and dropped her off to the side of the cafe, allowing her to take all 3 totes around to the back entrance where Brad was eagerly waiting.

“I wasn’t expecting you to have more goodies for us today. What ya got for me, babe?” He grabbed 2 of the totes and helped her into the back of the cafe. She started pulling things out, and his eyes went wider and wider.

“I hope this is okay?”

“Okay? This is amazing! I think we’ll save most of this for tomorrow morning. The customers will be super excited to see these.” He pulled out his laptop and went to the baker’s instagram page, ready to post that they received a few additional goodies for the afternoon. Cora looked in awe. Brad smiled. “We decided to start posting when we open if we have treats and then again when we run out because SOME people were getting upset about not making it in time. This will be a really nice surprise for them.”

She watched as he used his template to create a new post. Before posting, he took the boxes to their small kitchen and started putting items on different plates. When he had everything plated that he was going to put out that afternoon, he took a couple of pictures. He created the new post first with the notice of new goodies in for the afternoon followed by pictures of what was now available. He took them out front, and placed them in the display. By the time he got back, which wasn’t more than a couple minutes, the post was already getting likes and comments.

Chad wanted to come back and say hello, but the moment the goodies were placed up front, there was a bum rush of people scrambling from their tables to get what they wanted before they were gone. 15 minutes later, everything was gone.

When Brad put up the next post with being sold out again, there were several comments. Some were sad. Others asked when there would be more. There were also a couple of nasty comments about never having enough and that they should be giving more notice before putting things out. Brad just rolled his eyes at the negative comments.

This entire time, Louisa was surprised to see how quickly everything sold, seeing the demand herself in person. “They really like my stuff!”

“Bitch, I told you!” Chad came into the back, finally having gotten a break. He strode right up to Louisa and gave her a big hug. “You didn’t have to bring us more stuff, but we really appreciate it.” He looked over to see the other boxes of goodies left unopened. “Why didn’t we put those……….”

Brad cut him off. “We’re saving those for tomorrow.” Chad nodded. “Good idea.” They heard the doorbell ding, and Brad took his turn going up front to help customers.

“What time is your appointment?”

She looked at her phone. It was nearing 1:30 pm. “It’s at 3. So I have a little bit.”

He pulled out a couple of chairs for them. “I’m so excited for you for tonight! I bet you’ll look gorgeous.”

“I told Cora I’d come by here after I get my hair and makeup and stuff done. Plus, I have to get the okay from you guys on how I look before I go to the gala.”

He smiled. “Excellent!” They chatted over the next hour. Brad and Chad switched out every so often until she had to leave. She took the back exit out, and hailed a cab on the side street. The traffic was awful, but she made it on time to Adam’s who was waiting with bated breath.

They spent the first 2 hours working on the highlights in her hair before rinsing and then giving her a bit of a haircut. It took the next hour to style her hair, having to make a few adjustments here and there based on how things were turning out.

Once completed, he brought out his full makeup kit and started with primer, moving to other aspects. 30 minutes later, he pulled out the dress. His female assistant helped her change into the dress carefully, placing a makeup collar protector before placing the final touches. Once he was done, he pulled over his full length mirror. Looking into it, she didn’t recognize herself.

She pointed to her reflection in the mirror. “I don’t know who that is, but she looks like a model.”

He laughed a little. “Babe, you look amazing all on your own. I just added a touch here and there. You could go au natural, and you’d still look incredible!”

Looking at her phone, it was 6:30, and the gala was starting soon. Hailing a cab, she had her regular clothes in the garment bag. When a black cab pulled over, she got into it very very carefully before giving him the address to the cafe.

By the time she reached the cafe, it was almost 7 pm, but she didn’t want to let her friends down. So she pulled out her phone and sent him a quick message.

Sigyn: I’m running a bit late. Fashionably late as the magazines say.

She carefully got out of the cab and went to the front door where Brad, Chad, and Cora were all waiting inside. Opening the door, their heads snapped to see who it was and gawked at her, everyone’s eyes going big like saucers.

“Bitch, you look amazing!” Everyone was afraid to touch her, scared they’d ruin some aspect of her outfit.

She was nervous. “Are you sure? I feel like it’s a little much.” Her phone pinged.

Loki: Not a problem, darling. That’s how the best people arrive, yourself included.

She couldn’t stop herself from smiling, and no one needed to guess who had just texted her.

“We need to get you to that ball before you turn into a pumpkin.” Brad went to open the door while Chad hailed a cab.

Cora gave her air kisses, not wanting to ruin her makeup. “You’ll knock him dead!”

Without further adieu, Brad helped her get into the cab carefully so that her dress wouldn’t snag or get caught on anything. He gave the address to the cabbie and sent her on her way.

Taglist: @huntress-artemiss @jaidenhawke

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darling-archeron · 2 years

Text

The Things You Do - Feysand

Feyre isn't sure when work crept up and consumed her and Rhys's lives. It's been a long, hard week at work, and Rhys is still away on a business trip. Of course, how could a little distance prevent him from checking in on his wife?

Fluff, 2.7k words.

Masterlist

Feyre’s day was not going well.

She considered herself an easygoing person, and knew how to roll with the punches. After everything she had been through, she had to.

But it really had been the week from hell. From work budget cuts to a minor PR crisis she dealt with even though it wasn’t her job, to a burst pipe in their house’s basement, she dealt with one problem after another.

And that was only the first three days of the week.

Today was Thursday, and she had desperately hoped things would go well. But the day had started with a ridiculous traffic jam, even for Velaris’s notoriously heavy traffic. The bottleneck on the interstate wasn’t going anywhere fast, and it made her late for work and a meeting with her newest client.

After that, she discovered that her hapless intern had forgotten to email new design concepts for a different company, meaning she spent twenty minutes placating the customer over an angry phone call. Once her boss had found out, she had taken a verbal beating from her too.

It had taken ages for Feyre to build up a relationship with Winter Publishing, and now she had to do damage control. She internally berated herself for letting such an important task slip through the cracks and fall into the hands of an intern.

Combine that with a spilled cup of coffee and noisy construction across the street that left her with a headache, and she was mentally checked out by lunch.

And to make matters a little worse, Rhys was away on yet another business trip and wouldn’t be back for another two days. She didn’t begrudge him for the constant traveling, knowing it was only temporary as the company did some restructuring. But it really sucked. They had been texting back and forth all day, lamenting their respective situations.

Rhys: Good morning! How is the most beautiful woman in the world doing today?

Feyre: I miss you and your shameless flattery.

ready for this week to be over.

How are you??

Rhys: on my way to get coffee before the conference starts, I’ll need it to get through today. But we’re finally starting to make progress on the negotiations I was telling you about.

Is today off to a good start?

Feyre: not exactly, i’m stuck in traffic. Alis is going to strangle me.

this is so frustrating

I’m already late for a meeting

Rhys: Ugh that’s awful, I’m sorry

Feyre: finally moved a tiny bit!!!! Stuck again now though

I’m sorry for the rant, how are you? Is that Keir guy still being an ass?

Rhys: No, we finally got him to back down yesterday and I think we’ll compromise. But I’m so ready to be done with this trip & come home to you. Also, the continental breakfast at this hotel is terrible.

Any luck with traffic?

Feyre: the breakfast can’t be any worse than what I make haha.

also no. still stuck.

Rhys: I miss you too, and your breakfasts. I love you – you’re going to kick today’s ass!

Feyre: I love you too.

And on and on, they had texted back and forth. Her texts got less peppy and increasingly irritated as each disaster struck. She felt bad about unloading on him, but today was absolutely kicking her ass. Irritation clung to her like a bad cough, and it was an effort to keep from snapping at people who didn’t deserve it – and even the ones he did.

Rhys’s texts had been a welcome form of encouragement, but as the hours passed by they slowed and stopped altogether.

Feyre knew not to take it personally; he was at work. She shouldn’t have been on her phone either and was risking another scolding from her boss. Still, she selfishly missed the one thing that had made her day a little better. They had both been so busy lately – she had been taking on extra clients at her firm, and Rhys was traveling more than ever. He had been on countless trips over the past few months, making their relationship feel like it was long distance half the time.

She gazed out her window, which only gave her a view of the construction across the street, and stifled a groan.

She liked her job. She really did. Only not on weeks like this.

5:00 rolled around, and Feyre glanced up to see her colleagues gathering their things and heading home for the night. Even the construction settled down and left her in peace.

She debated heading home too. The headache still pulsed in the back of her skull. But the pile of work would only be bigger tomorrow, and it wasn’t as though she had any plans for the night.

Fuck it.

This extra work had better get her noticed by management.

Feyre slouched in her chair, kicked off her heels, and opened the newest email in her inbox.

An hour and a half later, her head still throbbed, and her eyes were starting to burn under the harsh fluorescent lighting. The pile of work had barely shrunk, but she would combust if she stayed around another minute.

Shoving her heels back on with a grimace, Feyre killed the power on her computer and grabbed her purse. When she picked up her phone, she saw she had missed a message from about an hour before.

Rhys: How was work?

Feyre: Just leaving now. I hope you survived the day too. Can we call tonight?

She hit send and tossed her phone in her purse. The office door closed behind her with a click.

It was time to head home.

On the walk to the elevator, Feyre debated the merits of picking up takeout on her way, but that seemed like more work. If Rhys had been around, he probably would have been beckoning her home with the promise of a backrub and dinner in the oven.

Cauldron, he had her spoiled. She would have to manage on her own for the night.

She probably had a frozen pizza at home, and a bottle of wine too. Maybe she could invite Mor over for a girl’s night. Though a little nap on the couch first would be nice.

She listened to the elevator’s tinny ping as it cleared the ninth floor, then the eighth, down, down, down, until she reached the parking garage. Feet still aching, she didn’t hesitate to hurry over and pop the car into drive. Then began the commute home in rush-hour traffic.

Her phone remained silent for the majority of the drive until she was about fifteen minutes away.

Ping

The screen lit up, and Feyre waited until she was stopped at a stoplight to check the message.

Rhys: Talk soon!

At long last, Feyre pulled into their driveway. The neighborhood was busy at this time of day. People were coming home for the day and leaving for the night. Across the street, a gaggle of kids kicked around a soccer ball, and the family at the corner was having a barbeque.

There would be no such activities at the quiet Nox-Archeron house tonight. Feyre clicked the garage door opener as she rolled up, waiting as the motor rumbled to life and the door opened.

Her spot was empty, as expected.

But the stall next to hers was occupied by Rhys’s black BMW.

She was sure it was his. Who else knew the passcode for the garage door?

As she pulled into her spot and shifted into park, Feyre could see the silhouette of the bat-shaped air freshener through the tinted windows. Another glance confirmed that the license plate was his.

Rhys’s car was supposed to be parked at the airport for the next two days. She had felt terrible about making him drive himself to the airport, but he had insisted it was easier, and – none of that mattered now, what was his car doing in their garage?

Had there been some kind of emergency? But he had texted only a few minutes ago.

Yanking the keys out of the ignition and fumbling with her door, she sprang out of the car and rushed to the garage door, nearly tripping on the steps. It was unlocked, as it only was when one of them was home.

She cracked it open. Light poured in from inside, but no sounds betrayed a presence.

“Rhys?” she asked tentatively, walking in and rounding the corner to the kitchen and –

Rhys.

Standing there, in flesh and blood. She scanned him up and down to look for any signs of distress or injury, but saw none. There was only her husband with his tousled hair, loosened tie, and a broad smile.

“Welcome home, darling!” he said cheerily.

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that? What are you doing home – why didn’t you say something?” she asked as she pulled him in for a hug, savoring the feel of his warm, broad figure against hers. He hugged her back tightly, arms wrapping around her torso as he leaned down and pressed his face into the crook of her neck.

“I came home early,” he said into her shoulder as he let her out of the embrace. Feyre let her arms fall away but reached out for his hand.

“Why?”

“Because I’m sick of being gone all the time, and you’ve been having a terrible time for the past few days, and it’s not right that I’m not able to be here for you.”

Feyre shook her head, guilt coursing through her. “Rhys, I appreciate the sentiment, I’ve missed you like crazy, and I’m so happy you’re here, but – what? Do you still have a job?”

He nodded ruefully. “Of course, that’s your first concern. Yes, I still have a job. I informed my boss that my further employment had some stipulations.”

She nodded. “Good – good.”

Rhys frowned. “You know that if I had quit, I could have found something else. I’ve gotten offers recently, my skills are in huge demand if I do say so myself.”

It was the kind of confidence that could only come from someone who had spent their life being solidly upper-middle-class, but Feyre wasn’t even upset about that. She bit her lip, willing tears not to fall as she clutched his broad hand.

“I know you could have found something else, but that’s not it. Rhys, no matter what you say, I know you care about this job. You care about the people you help with it. The last thing I want to do is be some kind of burden on you and everything you’re capable of.”

He wagged a finger at her, frowning. “What have we talked about? You’re my wife, and you’re never a bother or a burden. Our family is more important than work. I’ve been gone more days than I’ve been home the last couple of months, and I’m sick of it.”

Right – right. When she had first met Rhys and his friends, she had realized she had some self-worth issues thanks to a rough childhood and a string of bad relationships. Therapy and Rhys’s gentle reminders helped, but she couldn’t always beat back the tide.

It was just –

He had flown across the country. Skipped out on the rest of a trip he was most certainly not supposed to skip. To come home to her after the week from hell.

Who did that? And how had she gotten so lucky?

Really, it was such a typical Rhys thing to do, she didn’t know why she was so shocked.

“How did you even manage to get here in time?”

“I finished up with Kier around noon, realized we were both sad and missing each other not long after that, so I gave my boss an ultimatum. Told him he needed to respect my requests and my time or I would walk. When I took this job, I didn’t sign up for this much travel, and every time there seems to be an end in sight, the deadlines just get extended.”

“Rhys!” Feyre exclaimed, disbelief coursing through her.

“We’ve talked about how I’ve been unhappy there!” Rhys defended. “If I hadn’t confronted him then, I would have sometime soon. I wouldn’t have taken it hard if he kicked me to the curb. Luckily, I’m the only one Keir will negotiate somewhat fairly with, so he agreed. There was a 2:30 flight heading back here, so I booked it to the airport and got back here – “ he glanced at the clock – “about half an hour ago. I was banking on your workaholic tendencies to make you stay late. I didn’t have time to cook, but I got takeout from your favorite.”

After he mentioned it, she could smell the Italian spices of her favorite pasta wafting through the air. It was almost overwhelming. Rhys had moved mountains to come home to her after she had complained about a shitty day at work, and he had still managed to get her favorite lunch. Tears started to well up in her eyes, and her cheeks blazed.

She swiped at her eyes to keep the tears at bay, but of course, Rhys was there again, cupping her cheek in one hand and resting the other on her waist.

“Hey, hey –“ he said gently. “What’s wrong?”

She sniffled, still trying to hold the tears back. “I just – I don’t know what I did to deserve someone as amazing as you. I mean, you do all this just for me? You always go so above and beyond what I ever expect, and I’m still trying to understand how you’re willing to give up so much for me. I mean, you got home and I wasn’t even here. I know it – it sounds so silly, we’re married and all.”

He shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. Feyre, you spent years around people who didn’t love you the way you deserve. I want to do this for you – I’d give up a thousand work trips for you. I never want either of our jobs to become first in our relationship, and I know you don’t want it that way either. But you want to talk about going above and beyond? You go above and beyond for me all the time. Feyre, you’re everything to me. You’re kind and clever, and wonderful. And I’ll spend every day making sure you know it.”

That only made her cry harder, and she leaned forward and buried her head in his chest as the sobs bubbled up. Rhys stroked her hair for a minute, unsure of her reaction until he made out a murmured “thank you.”

“I know you want to do all this, and that’s why I love you.” She raised her head, blue eyes meeting his violet ones. Her voice was shaky, but she kept on.

“Ten years ago, I never would have dreamed I could come home to someone who would be waiting by the door with I love yous, or cooking dinner for me, or – “she chuckled through the tears – “somehow flying back from Hybern for me. Or any of the thousand other things you’ve done. There was a time when I thought nobody would notice if I came or left. I never thought my future would hold someone who made time for me like this, and…what I’m trying to say is that I’m grateful for you. For all of it. Every one of your ridiculously sweet grand gestures, and the little things you do.”

“I’ll keep doing them as long as you’ll have me, darling,” Rhys said softly, pressing gentle kisses to her forehead, her cheeks.

She was amazed at how he did that – made her feel loved, wanted, adored, with even just the simplest of gestures.

“I’ll always have you,” she replied, giving him a soft kiss in return.

Feyre pulled away and swiped at the remaining tears. She was sure she looked a mess, but Rhys beckoned to the kitchen.

“Dinner is on. Let’s eat before it gets cold?”

“That sounds wonderful,” Feyre agreed, feeling her stomach grumble slightly.

“That’s my girl,” Rhys said with one of the soft smiles reserved just for her. Feyre let her husband take her hand and lead her into the kitchen, where takeout was waiting.

AN: If you made it this far, thank you! This has been sitting finished in my drafts for a while. I have mixed feelings about how it turned out, but it's been a pretty awful day, and I hope I can brighten some of yours with this little piece of fluff. The title is taken from certified banger "You Make Loving Fun" by Fleetwood Mac.

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