#sorry but nicholas sparks is over

[morallyinept]

Homage - A Javi Gutierrez x Blind F!Reader One Shot

Written as part of my B O D I E S Series 🤎

BODIES MASTERLIST

Summary: A collision in a coffee shop with an enigmatic man sparks an exhilarating romantic encounter.

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Blind F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader in terms of ethnicity, Reader does have hair. Reader is completely blind. Reader speaks & understands Spanish.)

Word Count: 6.7k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Triggers & Warnings: Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/oral F receiving/fingering/lots of kisses/Reader is completely blind and uses a cane and guide dog/I've tried to write this story without describing Javi's expressions etc... because Reader would not see them, but there is a little bit of Javi POV/Javi falls hard for you/lots of slushy, soft romance/mentions of Nicholas Cage

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: It's important to me that all types of readers are represented in my work, therefore this collection of stories is written for readers with REAL bodies. However, anyone can enjoy them. Whilst this story may not specifically represent your own personal journey, it is my hope that it resonates and offers comfort and enjoyment. The condition/disability mentioned in this story is not 'one size fits all' - everyone's journey is personal and unique, and I have undertaken as much research as I can to write accurately and respectfully. 🤎

MAIN MASTERLIST | JAVI GUTIERREZ MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

In the bustling coffee shop, the air is filled with familiar, enticing aromas that dance on your senses. 

The rich, earthy scent of freshly ground coffee beans mingle with the sweet scents of caramelised sugar, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere around you.

Notes of toasted bread and buttery croissants waft from the bakery counter, tempting patrons with their comforting fragrance. Amidst the sweet haze, hints of cinnamon and nutmeg linger, adding a touch of spice to the air. 

You can hear the air humming with a melodic symphony of sounds, creating a vibrant backdrop for conversation and camaraderie that surrounds you. The rhythmic whirring of coffee machines echo throughout the space, accompanied by the gentle chinking of cups and saucers as baristas expertly craft each beverage with care. 

Amidst the chatter of patrons and the occasional burst of laughter, the soothing melodies of soft music plays in the background, adding to the ambiance.

It’s a song you know and you hum along to it as you patiently wait your turn. 

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the coffee shop, the sounds of steaming milk and frothing foam mingling with the hiss of espresso machines, envelops you in a comforting and familiar embrace. It’s a weekly treat coming here after a busy week of work. 

You feel Nicolas’ tail pad against your leg and you reach to pat his head, scritching behind his ear that you know he loves. 

“Almost there, Nicolas.” You reassure your canine friend, who is also your trusty pair of eyes.

You clutch onto your cane and wait patiently in the line pondering in your mind what takes your fancy today.

Nicolas guides you through the bustling queue of the quaint coffee shop until you’re at the front and place your order with Juan, who greets you personally and asks how you are. You always like the sound of his voice, he always sounds so peppy.

As you patiently wait for your coffee to be made, recognizing the familiar voices and chatter of the other baristas, a sudden collision startles you.

"Dios, mio! I am so sorry!" (Oh God!) A male voice exclaims, laden thick with embarrassment.

You chuckle softly, your fingers searching for your cane that's no longer in your grip, but the band around your wrist guides you to it dangling within reach.

“No harm done,” you say with a warm smile. Collisions happen on the regular in your world. 

But the man continues to ramble. “I am so blind, I should look where I am going. ¡Ay no, mi camisa. Está arruinada. Probablemente el café no salga con el lavado, and... Oh, shit.’ (Oh no, my shirt. It is ruined. The coffee probably won’t wash out.)

The man's tone shifts, realising his mistake. "Oh. I didn't mean to... I-I didn't realise you can’t… Oh, and now I feel terrible for making such a ridiculous comment about my ridiculous shirt."

“I'm sure your shirt is okay.”

“No, it really is ridiculous, even without the coffee stain.” He chuckles. “Are you okay, you didn't get splashed with hot coffee, did you?”

You smile into the direction of his worrisome sing-song voice. “No, I’m fine. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I…” You hear him sigh “if you could see what I look like now, it would make you really laugh.”

You smile, your curiosity piqued by the nervous energy radiating from him. "Well, you certainly sound cute when you're flustered." 

You hear him fumbling for words. "Thank you... I-I... oh, wow." 

“Let me buy you a new coffee.” You offer. 

“Oh no, let me buy you one. I bumped into you, it is the least I can do for my clumsiness. Please, I insist.”

You accept graciously. “Thank you, that’s kind.”

“Not at all. What would you like?”

The man orders your coffee with Juan, and his again, and introduces himself whilst you both wait.

“I am Javi.” His Spanish accent colours his words.

You reach out for his hand and it’s soon filled with a soft, emanating warmth. His hand feels big and his grip gentle. You tell him your name in return amd he sighs enthusiastically.

“And who is this handsome fellow?”

“This is Nicolas.” You say, stoking behind the canine’s ear.

"Oh, I love your dog's name! Did you name him after Nicholas Cage?"

“No.”

“Oh, I love Mr Cage. I am a big fan.”

“Me too.”

Javi chuckles nervously, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment, not that you can see it, but you can sense it in his smile and the way he titters nervously. You've conjured up an image in your mind of him wringing his hands eccentrically, and it makes you smile.

“Uh, would you like to sit and drink your coffee with me?” He asks. 

Your face lights up with a smile as you nod in agreement. "That sounds lovely, Javi," your voice tinged with excitement. “Lead the way.”

“Would you like to take my arm? My hands are full of coffee cups.”

“I can follow your voice if the route is clear, and Nicolas can do the rest.” You explain with a smile. 

“Okay, great… Shit,” you hear him mutter followed by the sound of something scraping against the floor. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I just… Uh, the chair. I did not see it. I promise I'm usually more coordinated," he replies sheepishly.

Your laughter rings out melodiously. "Oh, I'm sure you are. It's just my luck to encounter the exception," you tease, following the gentle pull from Nicolas carefully.

Javi grins, relieved by your lighthearted demeanour. "Consider it a unique skill of mine, I was hit by a car once." He quips, his accent adding charm to his words.

“Gosh, that sounds awful!”

“I was fine. We are here, right in front of you. Can I help?”

"I got it." You reach out for the table edge as your fingers glide across it and you slide into the chair. "You're quite the character, Javi," you remark, taking a sip of your coffee.

Javi chuckles nervously. "I guess I am. But you know what they say, it takes one to know one," he replies with a mischievous sound in his tone.

You raise an eyebrow, feigning offence. "Are you insinuating that I'm clumsy too?" You tease, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.

“Of course not! You're the epitome of grace and elegance," he replies with exaggerated sincerity, earning another giggle from you.

“Well, you're wrong, I fall over a lot, mostly over this.” You say, tapping your cane against the table. “Nicolas keeps me upright most of the time.”

“Then he is doing a very good job.”

As you drink your coffee, Javi can't contain his excitement as he begins to recount his favourite Nicholas Cage films.

"You know, Nicholas Cage is a cinematic legend. Have you ever watched Con Air?" Javi asks eagerly. 

You smile, shaking your head. "I haven't. Tell me about it."

Javi rambles with enthusiasm as he dives into an animated description of the action-packed film.

"It's a rollercoaster of adrenaline! Picture Nicholas Cage as Cameron Poe, a former Army Ranger who finds himself on a prison transport plane filled with the worst criminals imaginable."

You listen intently, captivated by Javi’s passion for the movie. "Wow, that sounds intense."

Javi murmurs in agreement around a slurpy sip of his coffee enthusiastically.

"Absolutely! He can seamlessly transition from action-packed roles to more nuanced characters. Take Leaving Las Vegas, for example. It's a poignant drama where he plays a suicidal alcoholic. His performance is truly mesmerising."

“Have you ever met him? You sound like quite the fan.”

“Yes. He came to my birthday party last year. I turned forty.” 

“Really? That’s amazing!”

"Yes, it was. We had a good time together. I just realised... I've been talking about these movies as if you've seen them, but..." Javi's voice trails off, his worry palpable. He hesitates, unsure of how to proceed. "I... I didn't consider that you might not be able to see the films," he admits, sheepishly. "I'm sorry if I made assumptions."

You smile warmly, reaching out to gently squeeze Javi's hand and find his wrist instead.

"It's okay, Javi. I appreciate your honesty. I may not be able to watch them in the traditional sense, but I can still listen to them. Audio descriptions allow me to enjoy the stories, just like everyone else. And, I absolutely love movies."

Javi’s sighs with relief, his worry dissipating as he breathes out. "That's fantastic! I'm so glad to hear that," he exclaims, his enthusiasm returning.

"Yes, it's pretty cool how technology has made entertainment more accessible for people like me. So, feel free to keep sharing your favourite movies with me, okay?"

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“How am I blind?” You pre-empt.

“Yes. But only if you are comfortable in telling me.”

“I had Meningitis when I was a child. It attacked my optic nerves and I lost my sight.” You simply say.

“I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay, it could’ve been much worse. I’ve adapted and I have a really good life. Nicolas gives me a lot of independence.”

“Were you very young?” Javi asks. 

“Yes, I could see and I remember things. I remember what my parents looked like, and the sun. I loved watching the sun set. I think that is what I miss the most.”

There is a reflective pause between you before Javi speaks again.

“I think you are very brave, and very beautiful. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be very forward.”

“It’s okay, I quite like it.” You smile, as you drink more of your coffee. 

Your conversation about movies continues, and Javi offers a pastry and more coffee, to which you accept as you spend a couple of hours together in the coffee shop talking and laughing.

Summoning his courage, he asks you a question with a hopeful tone.

"Would you like to watch a movie... with me?" Javi asks, his voice tinged with excitement.

Your face lights up with surprise and delight. "Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes, I mean… shit. Yes, if you would like to, perhaps this evening? You might have plans and that is okay, but I am enjoying talking to you and would like to get to know you some more.”

“That sounds wonderful, Javi," you reply, your smile growing wider.

Javi beams in response through a giddy chuckle, relieved by your positive response. 

"Great! We can choose a movie that has audio descriptions,” he suggests eagerly. “I have a home cinema, if you feel comfortable coming back to my place?”

“I do. Besides, Nicolas would tell me if you had bad vibes.”

“Animals always know.” Javi agrees. “I like him.” 

You nod enthusiastically. "Nicolas loves movie nights just as much as I do," you say, patting your guide dog affectionately. 

“I have a few errands to run in town first, but if you like, I could pick you up later?”

“I’d like that.” You nod. 

He explains he has a villa on the coast, which is a short drive from town, and you're familiar with most of the landscape except the coastline, so you're touched when he tells you to put his address in your phone and text someone you know for reassurance.

He also gives you his number and is fascinated when he sees you navigating your phone with confidence using a talkback app.

“This is marvellous!” He says as you explain how it works as the little computerised voice talks back to you. “Can I drive you home?” Javi offers after you both finish up your coffee.

“No, that’s okay, I have errands to run too,” you smile. 

Javi holds the door open for you and Nicolas, and outside the fresh air and warmth of the summer feels good on your skin.

“Well, I shall see you later this evening, mi sol.” (My sun)

Smiling, you feel him squeeze your hand affectionately. “I look forward to it, Javi.”

“See you, Nicolas.” He says, and you hear him walk away, leaving you with the biggest smile chiselled on your face.

Using your fingertips, you dab on a slick of lip balm, and spritz a final spray of your favourite perfume, inhaling the delicate notes with a smile, when Nicolas barks softly as a car pulls up. 

Opening the door, you can hear Javi greet you on the other side. 

“Oh, wow…” He says. “It is possible you look even more beautiful than when I saw you earlier today. You are glowing, just like the sun...”

“Thank you, Javi.” You say, feeling your cheeks warm.

You fetch your purse and step out with Nicolas in tow, with your cane looped around your wrist. 

“Would you like to take my arm? My car is parked a little way down the road.” Javi offers, and you smile linking around him, Nicolas padding along on the other side, and your cane out in front. 

You hear him greet passers by in Spanish, in between talking with you, and it warms you that he’s not averse to being seen with you as he pats your hand with his around his muscular arm, and makes a note to warn you when an uneven payment or dip is approaching.

And you can only smile at his rapt attention to you and your surroundings. 

Most strangers you encounter are indifferent or ignorant to the limitations of your world, more often than not getting annoyed at you when they’re the ones who bump into you to begin with. But Javi seemingly embraces the challenge naturally, adapting effortlessly as you walk along and talk animatedly with him, his laughter infectious.

As you walk throughout the world, you rely on your other senses to guide you, and Nicolas or GPS apps on your phone always help. The sounds of traffic and the chatter of pedestrians provide valuable cues about your surroundings, helping you to navigate the busy thoroughfare with confidence.

With each step, your cane will sweep the ground in front of you, detecting obstacles and uneven surfaces. Remembering routes, using auditory cues that took years to move around the town confidently by yourself.

But when you can take someone’s arm, like Javi’s, that load is shared and you can relax a little more into the trust that he’ll lead the way for you safely, without letting you trip and tumble or get lost. 

The car journey is pleasant; he has a convertible and you can feel the warm wind in your hair, and smell the salt from the coast. You both listen to gentle jazz music as he drives and describes the sights to you. 

Inside the villa, he tells you where most things are situated, and you explain to him that it will take time for you to remember a new space. He tells you to let him know if you need the bathroom or anything at all, and he can happily show you the way. 

He leaves you on a comfy, velvety feeling sofa that you sink into, as he fetches a bottle of wine and some glasses. Placing it in your hand, you sip from the cool crispness of the dry Vermentino, as he explains his home movie collection to you.

After deciding on Con Air - purely from Javi’s energetic description of it in the coffee shop - you feel him settle in beside you, a dip in the cushions, as his shoulder brushes against yours. 

You can’t see it, but Javi can't shake off the nervous excitement coursing through him, but you can certainly sense some of that energy as it bleeds into your skin.

With a gentle nudge, he casually drapes his arm around your shoulders, trying to appear cool and composed despite the butterflies in his stomach.

You hear the clicking of his mouth as he smiles when you lean into the comforting warmth of his touch, a contented smile playing on your lips too as the movie begins to play.

You can sense Javi's nerves, but his presence feels reassuring and comforting.

And he smells really good, like fresh mandarin, vetiver and a faint blend of coffee beans. Each inhale of his scent at this close proximity makes your mouth water.  

As the movie plays on, Javi's attempt to be cool is palpable, but his nerves are betraying him. You can't help but notice his subtle fidgeting against you and the way his breath catches every now and then.

With a playful smirk, you whisper teasingly, "nervous, Javi?"

Javi’s stutters, caught off guard by your observation. "Me? Nervous? No way," he replies, attempting to maintain his composure.

Javi tries to focus on the movie, but his mind keeps drifting back to the warmth of your presence beside him. As he steals a glance at you, he catches you smiling softly, lost in the magic of the film's audio descriptions as you listen intently.

“Is this okay?” He asks, and you nod. 

“Yes. It’s perfect.” You say, listening to the audio and the sounds of explosions and gunfire from the screen. 

A little while later into the movie and summoning his courage, Javi leans in a little closer, his heart pounding in his chest. "I hope you're enjoying the movie, mi sol," he whispers, his voice barely above a murmur.

“I am. I can hear that you are.” You say. “I can hear you smiling. I’d love to see it.”

“Shall I tell you what I look like?”

“Actually, I have a way of seeing what you look like.”

“How?”

“May I?” You ask, raising your hands and turning to him. 

Javi's heart skips a beat at your request, but he agrees, his own curiosity piqued. “Yes, of course.”

“Can you guide my hands to your face? I don't want to poke you in the eye,” you giggle. 

Chuckling, he takes them and places your palms onto his cheeks and they feel soft and prickly at the same time.

“You have facial hair,” you smile in wonderment.

“Yes. It is short, how I like it. Too much and I look like a crazy scientist.”

Your fingertips begin to trace the contours of Javi's face, delicately mapping the features you can't physically see. You feel the warmth of his skin, the curve of his cheekbones, and the soft, silken stubble of his jawline beneath your touch.

With each gentle caress, you paint a mental portrait of the man before you, capturing the essence of his presence in your mind's eye. And he's a sight to behold.

Javi holds his breath, feeling a rush of vulnerability and intimacy as you tenderly explore his face. He allows you to touch and feel without reservation.

He watches you as you concentrate and smile, your eyes pulled just over his shoulder as you explore.

As your fingers trace the contours of Javi’s face, you start to comment on what else you can feel. 

"You have a strong jawline," you observe softly. "And your cheeks... they feel warm, like you're smiling."

Javi’s breath catches in his throat at your words, a warmth spreading through him at your gentle touch. "That's because I am," he admits, the smile evident in his voice.

Your fingers continue their exploration, lingering on Javi’s features with a gentle curiosity. "And your nose... it's curved and proud," you remark, your touch light and reverent.

Javier chuckles softly, the sound tinged with affection. "Well, thank you for the compliment, but I have a big nose and a big head," he replies, his heart swelling with gratitude for your openness and acceptance.

You work your hands over his prominent eyebrows and into his hairline, feeling silken curls cascade down either side of his face as you weave them through your fingers like ribbons. 

“What colour is your hair?” You ask.

“Brown, like chocolate.”

“I imagined it to be brown. I like chocolate.” You smile, sweeping your fingers to the centre of his face and your tips skim over a fuzzy, well-groomed moustache and glide across his lips.

They feel plush and full. You feel him breathing against them, warm and a little moist. 

Then you feel him pucker and kiss them gently. He immediately apologises when you drop your hands into your lap.

“I am sorry. I-I don’t know what came over me.” He flusters.

“It’s okay, Javi, really-”

“Are you sure? I-I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“No, I mean, I would've preferred it if you’d kissed my lips instead.” You say, smiling.

“You would?”

“Yes.” You nod. 

“Oh. Then, I can kiss you?”

“Yes.”

You feel him get closer, like a shadow encasing your face, and you feel his own hands cup your cheeks; his breath felt on your lips as he gently presses his mouth to yours. 

You moan into his mouth as he kisses you delicately, lips parting around him as he smooches gently, and you dare yourself to dip your tongue inside to fully taste him.

And it immediately makes him whimper, the sound traversing your spine and into your core - prickles bursting all over your scalp, tingling.

He strokes the skin under your eye with his thumb and you feel him shuffle closer. Your hands feel across the expanse of his shoulders that feel broad and thick, and sweep up his neck into the bundle of small curls at the back of his nape. 

Your body feels like it's fizzing; your mind perfectly silent as you lose yourself in the feel of his kiss.

His tongue gently swirls against yours and you can feel the fuzz of his facial hair tickle against your chin and lip.

His kiss dazzles you, leaving you breathless and wanting.  

“That was really nice,” you say, your breath still tangled in your throat as you part. 

“Really nice.” Javi agrees. “I should stop before I get carried away.”

“Me too.” You chuckle, but you pull him closer for another, lingering kiss, enamoured by the way he tastes and explores your mouth. 

“I would really like to see you again, another date, perhaps some dinner?” Javi asks, he peppers your cheeks with a slew of little kisses. 

“I’d really like that.”

“Perfect,” he smiles. “Oh, let’s rewind the film. We have missed the best part.”

He pulls you gently into his arms as you both settle in to enjoy the remainder of the film, Nicolas laying at both your feet snoozing gently. 

Javi is the perfect gentleman, driving you home after the film, and kissing you again on your doorstep, leaving you to go to bed that night with the biggest smile on your face, so much so that your jaw aches.

Your dates with Javi go well and increase in frequency.

You spend a lot of time with him, his warm hand secured in yours as you go wine tasting together, and he watches you sip at the different fruity wines and comment on which ones you like best. 

He cuddles up with you, watching more films together as you snuggle into his muscular arms and share more heated kisses. 

He takes you back to the coffee shop and buys you breakfast. He dotes on Nicolas and plays with him, whilst you listen to the sound of Nicolas grunting as Javi rubs his belly.

He’s the perfect fit for you with how gracious and attentive he is. He’s always asking questions too, learning eagerly about how you navigate the world; his curiosity welcomed and encouraged as he asks things that surprise you and make you smile at his thoughtfulness.

He finds it all genuinely fascinating and you don’t feel like you’re invisible when you're with him. 

Then comes the day when Javi asks you if you’d like to stay over after proposing to cook dinner for you, and you agree that you’d love to, despite the nerves surfacing.

It’s been a long time since you shared a bed with anyone, and even though the excitement of being in his arms floods through your veins, a little trepidation also surfaces. 

Javi arrives to pick you up at your homey little apartment in town, Nicolas is left with a friend for the evening off, and Javi carries your overnight bag into his convertible. 

He holds your hand and opens the passenger side door for you, letting you sit comfortably. 

You can't ignore the growing sensation blossoming between you both, Javi had been sudden, like the weather. A ray of warm sunshine falling into your lap, quite literally it seems.

With every shared laugh, every gentle touch, you feel that warmth spreading in your chest, igniting a spark that dances in the air whenever you’re together and it emanates and glows brighter each time.

It’s a feeling you can't quite put into words, a subtle yet undeniable connection that tugs at your heartstrings and leaves you breathless at his enigmatic and infectious energy. It’s as if something magical is unfolding between you, a budding romance that defies explanation, but feels undeniably real. 

In Javi's presence, you feel alive in a way you haven't before, as if you’re able to see the world through his eyes. His laughter is music to your ears, his touch sends shivers down your spine. He imbues you with a certain confidence you’ve never possessed before. 

He makes you bold, and daring, as you stand on the precipice of the cliff with him, his hand tightly wound around yours. 

“Are you ready, querida?” Javi asks, as you feel the setting Mallorcan sun streaming on your skin.

“Yes,” you laugh, giddily.

He explains that below the cliff there is the ocean water, and you’ll be safe and far enough away from the rocks. He’ll hold your hand tightly as you both jump. 

“Oh my God, we’re really going to do this!” You squeal as he tells you to step back a few paces with him.

His hands guide your waist as you step backwards and you feel it lingering there and burning, long after he lets go and takes your hand again.

“On three, we run forward together!” 

You can hear the wild excitement in his voice as your heart hammers in your chest, steeling yourself for the exhilarating plunge ahead.

The wind whips around you, carrying the salty scent of the ocean and the distant cry of seagulls on its breezy tendrils.

“Oh fuck!” You tremble with a manic laughter pouring out of you. 

“Ready? Uno. Dos-”

“Javi!” You giggle. feeling a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Tres!” 

He runs with you, hand tight in yours, and yells at you to leap at the exact moment - and you do, feeling yourself fly through the air off the cliff edge as it disappears from under your feet. 

The rush of air engulfs you as you descend, sending you hurtling towards the water below. For a brief moment, time seems to stand still as you plummet through the air, heart pounding as you brace yourself for the eventual impact of diving into the water.

Then, with a splash, you break through the calm ocean; the shock of the cold momentarily taking your breath away. 

As you surface, laughter bubbles up from deep within you, mingling with the sound of gentle waves and Javi’s rambunctious laughter echoing off the rocky cliffs.

“Javi, dios mio! You do this for fun?!” You exclaim as you cough; salty water washing around your mouth. 

“Si, it is exhilarating, no?”

“Oh, can we do it again?” You nod excitedly. “Shit, that was amazing!”

“You crave more!” He chuckles loudly. "You crazy woman! I love it!"

You feel his arms around you in the water, drawing you near as his lips graze over yours. He kisses you as you wrap your legs around his waist to stay buoyant. 

“You’re crazy. ¡Estás completamente loco.” (You’re completely crazy) You say, smiling and still buzzing with him guiding you through the exhilarating adventure, and reminding you that with him by your side, you’re capable of doing anything at all.

“Crazy for you, mi sol.” Javi says, with wet, salty lips pressed against yours. 

Together, you swim to the shore; the adrenaline still making your body shake as you bask in the euphoria of your daring feat. 

After drying off back at the villa, you sit with him on the terrace and enjoy a gorgeous cooked meal of Bacalao a la Vizcaína, or Basque-style Cod.

You sniff your fork and take a tentative bite, savouring the rich flavours of the tender fish and tangy tomato sauce, closing your eyes, relishing the taste of the dish as it dances on your taste buds. 

"What do you think?" Javi asks, his voice filled with hope.

You nod enthusiastically. "It's delicious, Javi. The flavours are incredible!"

"I'm glad you like it," he replies, his voice tinged with satisfaction.

You sip on more delicious wine from the bottles he’d brought in abundance from your wine tasting date. As you talk and laugh and hold hands, eventually it gets later in the evening, and Javi suggests going up to bed together.

You can sense some hesitation in his voice though.

“Javi, take me to bed.” You say to him, stroking his face. 

“I am not expecting anything.” He says as he kisses your knuckles. 

“I am.” You say and he titters. “I want you.”

You kiss his cheek and his hands slip around your waist. 

“Te deseo más que nada,” (I want you more than anything) Javi says, his breath warm on your face. “Come, this way.”

He guides you up the stairs slowly, letting your hand touch the wall and your feet stepping carefully up. He lets you know when you’ve reached the top. 

You round a corner with him and he opens a door. It smells of him in there, his familiar cologne tickling your nose and beckoning you in as you enter. 

He walks you towards the bed and you sit on it, feeling it plush and springy under your weight. You feel it dip beside you as he sits.

“Are you nervous, Javi?” You question with a soft smile.

“A little. I-I want to please you.” He says. 

“I’ve no doubt you will.” You reach for his face, grazing your fingers against his silky cheek as he kisses you. 

“I must confess, it has been a little while,” he says carefully. 

“Me too.”

“Oh, that makes me feel a little better,” he chuckles. 

“Quítame la ropa, Javi." (Take my clothes off, Javi) You whisper to him.

You feel his fingers undo the buttons on your shirt and he slides it off over your shoulders, kissing over them gently. You can feel his hair brush against your skin making you shiver.

He lays you back and removes your jeans until you're in just your underwear. 

“Beautiful,” he says. 

“Let me take yours off.” 

He guides your hand to the buttons of his own shirt and you undo them, stopping to stroke at the smooth skin and leaning forward to kiss at his neck.

His hands weave inside your hair as you kiss down his throat and onto his chest. He lays back as you reach his slacks, hovering over the button. 

“Please, querida.” He whines as you unbutton it and slip them down his waist. 

“Javi, are you not wearing any underwear?” You giggle as you feel nothing but smooth, warm skin under your fingers as you move up and down his hips. 

He chuckles. “Sometimes I like to go without. It is very freeing.”

Laughing you run your hands into his thighs, feeling the soft, downy hairs there become more plentiful and a little coarse.

Soon your fingers reach his cock, hard and thick as you glide over the smooth curve of its swell resting up against his belly. You feel it pulse and twitch under your fingers.

You can feel the wetness at the head, slick and sticky, as you slide your thumb over it, and he hisses. 

“You feel big…” You say as you pump gently, listening to the sounds of his breaths catch in his throat. 

“It is average, I think.” He gasps. "Mmm, that feels so good."

“You feel amazing.”

You feel his hands unclip your bra and then caress your breasts, massaging gently as you whine at the feel of his pads trailing across your nipples.

His lips find their way into your neck as he kisses and gasps whilst you touch him. 

He lays you back and you feel him remove your panties, the silk of them sliding down your legs. 

“Mira tú, eres tan hermosa” (Look at you, you are so beautiful) Javi whispers. You gasp as you feel his breath warm your thighs. 

You reach for him, hands gliding over his shoulders and he runs his nose across your stomach. 

“Can I taste you, querida?”

“Yes, please…” You groan, feeling your body tingle in anticipation as his breath draws closer to your hot, pulsing centre.

“Javi!” You gasp, as you feel his tongue sink into your folds.

Warm and wet, you feel him explore and trail his tongue through your slick, groaning in delight as he breathes and hums at the taste of you.

“Deliciosa…” he sighs. (Delicious) 

You feel his tongue flick across your clit, back and forth as he works you up; your thighs twitching around his face as your fingers tussle inside his hair, surrendering yourself to the dreamy, floaty feeling that envelops you.

He sucks on your clit a little harder, and you feel his fingers sliding through your folds. You moan out when you feel them penetrate you, spreading you open around them as he slides them in and out.

“Mmm, Javi, you’re so good at that…” You whine as he laps at that sticky seam between your thighs, nose snuffling against your mound. 

“Feel good, mi sol?”

“So good.” 

You feel a warmth spreading through your body, like a gentle embrace from the sun you remember as a child.

It radiates from within, filling you with a sense of peace and serenity that washes over you like a swelling tide as he laps and kisses at your sopping cunt.

His tongue flicks over your clit again; your body jolts, the stream of pleasure flooding bright light through your limbs. 

“Por favor, no pares Javi, se siente tan bien…” (Please don’t stop, Javi, it feels so good.)

You feel his breaths increase around you as he licks and sucks harder, his fingers diving deep and stroking against that fleshy spot inside, bringing you to your knees as you cry out for him. 

Your body shakes, your spine arches off the bed as you come; his name falling from your mouth around incoherent expletives as he continues to stroke and lick you through it.

Feeling weightless, you’re floating on a cloud, carried away by the currents of the wind until you come back again, panting and breathless for more.

Javi crawls up your body, planting kisses as he goes, until he reaches your mouth. You groan when you can taste yourself on his lips; feel the wetness of his chin graze against yours. 

“You taste really good,” Javi whispers with a smile laced around his teeth. 

You giggle nuzzling into him as you feel his length brush against your thigh. 

Your hands trail down his body, feeling every inch of warmth from his smooth skin; infatuated at how he shudders as your fingers glide down his spine, and you fondle over his pert ass, listening as he grunts when you squeeze it.

You reach for his hard cock between you, feeling him twitch and throb inside your hand as you stroke him; eliciting strained groans from the back of his throat around his generous kisses. 

“Your cock feels so hard,” you smile as you run it up and down inside your grip, your fingers on your other hand cupping around the tight swell of his balls. 

“Mmm, so hard for you, mi sol. Fuck, that feels so good.”

“You like that?”

“Yes. Very much.” You can hear him grin.

You just listen to his pants as you pump him, how his voice is strangled in the back of his throat to the point he’s almost whimpering.

He sounds so good that you could just come again listening to him as you clench continuously.

Soon his hand stops you as you increase the tempo. 

“I am sorry, but if you keep doing this, I will come. And I don’t want to leave you unsatisfied just yet. It might change how you feel about me.” 

“Nothing could change how I feel about you, Javi. I really like you, a lot.”

“Good. I really like you a lot, too. And I am not a selfish lover.”

You guide him towards you, feeling him prod gently at your slick entrance as you both groan. He teases his head in your folds, running it up and down and feeling how you tigthen and squeeze, just barely over the thick crown of him.

“I want you inside me, Javi.” You breathe. 

“Si, I want you too, mi sol. I have thought of this moment.”

He sucks gently on your bottom lip as he pushes his hips forward and slides into you. 

You clasp onto him gasping, it feels incredible; him slowly opening you up as he pants into your face, telling you how beautiful you are in a mixture of English and Spanish pelts. 

“Oh shit… mi sol…” He whines as he works his hips, thrusting in and out slowly and you can hear how wet you are around him as it squelches with every movement. 

You wrap your hands around his neck, as he buries his face into yours. His hips thrusting a little faster as he builds you up. 

"You have such a gorgeous pussy for me," Javi whines into your shoulder. "Oh... wow. Feels so good."

"You feel amazing, don't stop," you groan.

He sucks your nipple into his mouth as you wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him closer. 

His hips begin snapping harder into yours as he watches your breaths catch at the back of your throat with each shunt into you.

Holding onto your hands as he slides his cock in and out of you; his hips doing all the work as your fingers interlock in midair.

He leaves you suspended in a growing bliss that will neither drop you unexpectedly, or force you to confront your finish with a speedy resolution leaving you unsatisfied. Building you up slowly, listening to your moans and pants and feeling your body clench and buck around him when he hits the right spots.

He edges you with his cock, slowing down when he can feel you drawing near to that peak, and your face contorting in pleasure as he lets you skirt the edges of your orgasm, around and around on the precarious ledge.

Then, his hips will snap harder again pulling you to the edge of that cliff once more when it settles, and feeling you claw into his back gasping and whining for more as you start to shake around his cock. 

“Javi!” You groan, your skin damp with sweat and you feel his hand on your face, thumb stroking around your lips as you suck it into your mouth.

“Let me have it, mi sol.” He encourages with gritted teeth as he watches you combust. “Oh, you look and sound so good when you come for me. Yes, yes… more! Take more of my cock, it is yours. All yours, mi sol...”

You can’t help but just burst and quake beneath him as he fucks you harder. Calling his name, clawing at his shoulders. Writhing and bucking and arching.

You ride him to his own finish, his hands on your waist as you rest yours on his chest and work your hips. You feel his thick length bottom out inside you as you slide down him each time. Hear the way his breaths quicken, how his body tenses under your fingertips as you gyrate and grind. 

“Si, si…” He stutters as he tenses underneath you. “I am going to come. Where do you want it, mi sol?” 

“Inside,” you say as you lean over him as he cradles you. “Come inside me, Javi.” 

He crushes you to his chest as he thrusts upwards in a steady, hammering rhythm as he empties out with a loud grunt. 

“Oh shit!” Javi whines, his hips jerking as he fills you full, and you moan softly into his neck, sucking on the clammy skin there as he shakes. 

He holds you in his arms afterwards, pressed up tightly against his chest as he kisses over your head; the two of you silent save for your waning breaths. 

“That was incredible,” Javi whispers, nuzzling into your neck. “You are so beautiful. So perfect… I’ve never seen beauty like it before.”

“Javi, you’re a poet.” You grin, reaching up to touch his face.

“Ah, but you like it, yes?”

You nod, smiling and completely blissed out.

“Was it good for you?” He asks gently. 

“It was perfect,” you agree with a smile and running your hands through his silken, sweaty curls.  

“I am glad I bumped into you in the coffee shop, querida.” He says in your ear, tip of his nose brushing your conch. “It was the best day, even though I ruined a perfectly good shirt.” 

You chuckle as he pulls you closer in his arms. “Definitely the best day.” You agree. 

“I am a very lucky man.” 

“Yes, you are,” you smirk, and he chuckles, kissing and nuzzling into you. 

“I want to do so much more with you, mi sol. More dates. More of this. I really, really like you.”

“I really, really like you, too.” You twist to kiss him and feel him smile against your lips. "I feel like... I feel like I've seen the sun rise again, with you." You whisper, feeling like you've never experienced a true happiness like this before. "Thank you, Javi."

It does indeed feel like the last ever sunset you saw. Beautiful and lasting forever inside you. It's rays permeating through your bones with every touch, every kiss. Every singular word of affection given.

"Really? Oh, wow!" He gushes as he squeezes you tight. You hear him sniff and you reach up to his face feeling a wetness under his eye.

He kisses your fingertips gently. "You are my sunshine. Mi sol... You are everything."

You wrap yourself around him as he pulls up the sheets over you both.

“Sleep, querida. In the morning I shall make you a delicious breakfast.”

“Sounds amazing. Or you could just have me for breakfast instead.” You suggest with a grin.

“Oh, mi sol. I plan to.” Javi smiles. "And for lunch and dinner..."

I really hope you enjoyed reading this story with Javi, and welcome your comments/thoughts. I'd appreciate a re-blog if you liked it so others can find it on their dash to read and enjoy too - thank you very much! 🖤

BODIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

JAVI GUTIERREZ MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #javi gutierrez #javi gutierrez x reader #pedro pascal characters #javi g #javi g x reader #javi g smut #javi g fluff #tuwomt #diversity #inclusion #bodies series #jett's writing

[takiberry]

𐙚ᝰ.ᐟ Coffee Breath : WY

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.•☕️ oh he wants you so bad.

PREV : MASTERLIST : NEXT

☕️ written down below! ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡

nicholas came out from the break room after fuma, putting his waist apron back on and making sure his hair looked good, he didn’t understand why he wanted to look at least decent when you got here, but it’s something about you that sparked to him, you seem like a genuine and sweet girl, unlike his ex. oh how he hated his ex, how blind he was to see how horrible she truly was, and how awful she was to other people. never again. he heard the little bell as it had snapped him out of his thoughts, seeing you and rené walk in together, talking and smiling, he didn’t understand what it was but your smile made him smile.

he was snapped out of it by taki’s obnoxiously loud voice greeting you from behind the treats counter, causing him to shoot the boy a glare before turning his head back over , seeing that you and rené had waved back at the oreo haired boy. “oh hello welcome back.. y/n..?” nicholas said as to make sure he was remembering your name correctly, you laughed and nodded , ‘she’s so cute when she laughs..’ he had thought to himself again before speaking. “alright, what can i get you girls today?” he asked as he turned the little ipad back on, making sure everything was working properly. “mm can i get a strawberries’ n crème milkshake?” rené said with a big smile on her face before going back to conversating with taki and harua, you giggled at the scene before ordering your own drink. “alright, will that be all for today?” he said as he double checked the order.

“mhm! thank you nicholas!” you said happily as you paid for the drinks, nicholas smiled and nodded before going over to yuma, helping him make the drinks ( specifically making yours only ) he doesn’t know how or why but he had written his phone number on your cup, before going over to the pick-up counter. “here’s your drinks, ladies.” he said as he smiled at you whilst you and rené had taken your drinks, nicholas felt his face heat up a bit as his and your hand brushed against each other’s. “thank you random man!” rené had said, making you giggle once again before smiling at the cute barista. “thanks nicholas! you’re the best!” you said before walking out with your bestfriend. you had looked at the cup and gasped, seeing the digits on your cup, you had to pinch yourself to see if you had been dreaming.

“woah there, what’s gotten you pinching yourself?” your bestfriend asked before seeing that you were staring at the number written on the cup. “ohhh he wants you so bad, y/n, you GOTTAAAA text him !!” she said as she happiky bounced for you, drinking her milkshake. “i must be dreaming, did he really just give me his number?” you said as you pulled out your phone, shooting him a message to make sure it was really nicholas.

📝 ╰┈➤ tini notiez : haiii , woohoo another update! sorry that this is so scattered and messy :/ , sometimes i lack in ideas for new chaps, but i promise it should be getting better!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 🐾 taglist ; @aceheexx @hyvelxve @soobiverse @luvnicho @i4kt @luvitria @jjungwonss @lovewonkiki i@yuma-is-mine

#renè’s talking teddy 🧸 #renè is taki’s bby🐰 #renè’s 🍓 anons! #&team smut #&team hard hours #&team hard thoughts #renè’s favs!🍭 #&team fluff #&team x reader #&team imagines #&team nicholas #&team #&team social media au #&team smau #&team mtl #&team angst #wang yixiang smut #nicholas x reader #;coffee breath☕️

[mynameismckenziemae]

Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone-Chapter VII

We Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader (no use of y/n)

She’s always gone too long

(previous chapter here, next chapter here)

Warnings: talk of medical stuff (sutures, blood, needles, etc)

“They’re being evaluated by medical now.”

A wave of nausea hits you at Penny’s words. Relief that he’s alive, along with everyone else, but fearing the extent of his injuries. You plop down beside her on the stairs with a heavy sigh. Penny squeezes your shoulder before rubbing a hand over your back.

“Does it get easier? The deployments?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“No. It doesn’t. All you can do is try not to worry and pray they make it back.” She replies.

________________________________________

Waiting is the worst part. You and Steve hang out with Penny and Amelia in the house for the day, watching Nicholas Sparks movies on the couch.

Your phone starts to buzz. It’s a text from Jake.

Jake: Hey Sun. I haven’t seen them yet, but I think they’re okay. They took them to medical on scoop stretchers as a precaution but heard Nat bitching about it, and you know she would’ve been a wreck if she wasn’t sure Bob was good. You okay?

Tears of relief spring to your eyes. You feel like you can breathe again. He’s right, Natasha would’ve been fighting them every step of the way if Bob hadn’t responded to her.

Sunny: Oh thank God. I’ve been worried sick. I’m okay now. Thank you thank you thank you for telling me. Are you okay? Did you see them come in?

Jake: No problem, I’d want to know too if I wasn’t here. I heard them take the hit and about lost it. But Nat was so calm. Bob too, as usual. Just calmly asked them to deploy the barrier net as it was gonna be rough. I thought I was gonna puke. But she landed it perfectly under the circumstances, like always.

You get a picture from him and gasp when you open it—it’s a gorgeous, white-gold diamond engagement ring.

Jake: Don’t say anything, but I’m asking her to marry me when I get to see her. I’ve had the ring for a while, just been trying to plan the perfect proposal. But after today I realized it doesn’t matter, she doesn’t care. Life’s too fucking short.

Sunny: OMG JAKE! It’s gorgeous! She’s going to love it! Congratulations!

Jake: Don’t jinx it! She hasn’t said yes yet. 😬

Sunny: Lol, there’s no doubt in my mind that she will. I better get an invite to the wedding.

Jake: Of course, if Nat doesn’t steal you as a bridesmaid, you’ll be standing with me as a groomsman. I think you can pull off a tux.

Sunny: Haha, I don’t know about that. I’d do it for you though.

Sunny: Nat told me you wanted to kill Derek that night at the Hard Deck. I’m really glad you didn’t (you’re too pretty for prison), but thank you for being my corner.

Jake: I would’ve in a heartbeat (I look good in orange) but I couldn’t have lived with myself if he would’ve hurt you because I stepped in. I’m sorry I didn’t see the signs sooner and wasn’t there for you.

Sunny: It’s not your fault. Nor is it mine I’ve come to realize. I’m just glad he’s gone and I can talk freely to you guys again.

Jake: Me too. I missed you. Hey, I gotta go. I think one of the nurses is coming. I’ll keep you updated if Bob can’t have his phone.

Sunny: Sounds good, thanks again, Jake. Go get your girl!

________________________________________

You fill Penny and Amelia in on what Jake’s told you, leaving the proposal out since it’s not your news to share. Soon after, Penny leaves the room to take Pete’s call.

Amelia heads out too, going to get ready to hang with friends now that the dark cloud hanging over you all has lifted.

Soon Penny is back, offering no updates other than that they should hopefully be stateside again in the next day or two.

You head back up to your apartment to feed Steve his supper when you get another incoming text, this time from Nat.

Nat: Hey, Bob’s okay! He has a cut on his cheek from the glass and some bruising on his chest from the restraints, but he’s okay. I just got discharged and doc was going in by Bradley next, and then Bob.

You take a deep breath, the weight finally lifting from your chest.

Sunny: THANK YOU. I don’t even know what to say. I can’t express to you how grateful I am for getting him got him back. How are you?

Nat: I told you I’d bring him back safe. I’m great actually. 💍

A picture comes through of her and Jake. Tear-stained faces pressed together and grinning from ear to ear as she holds up her left hand, showing off her new ring.

Sunny: CONGRATULATIONS! What a beautiful ring! I’m so happy for you two!

Nat: He did good, didn’t he? I hate to do this, but can I let you go? Jake wants to call his mama and show her.

Sunny: Of course! Thank you again. Love ya.

Nat: Love you! See you soon!

________________________________________

Bradley calls soon after.

“Hey Sunny girl, how are ya? Holding up okay?”

“Hey, yeah I’m good now that I know you’re all okay. How are you?”

“Physically, I’m fine, I didn’t need medical but it’s protocol if you’re hit. Mentally though? I’m a little shaken up actually.” He replies, the vulnerability in his response surprising you.

“Will you tell me about it?” You ask, phrasing it that way so he doesn’t feel pressured.

“Yeah, okay. I knew they had me locked in and I barrel-rolled to avoid the brunt of it, but in that split second I—I know it sounds cliche but my life flashed before my eyes. I thought I was done for, that I’d be seeing my rents again soon,” voice shaking, he continues, “The whole flight back I just kept thinking about everything I haven’t experienced, I mean I’ve done some cool shit in my life but…I don’t have anyone to share it with. No one to come home to, just an empty, quiet house. I don’t mean—I…I know I have you back again, I’m so grateful for that, and your mom and dad have never stopped trying, even though I keep them at arms length. Fuck, this isn’t coming out right at all, sorry.” He laughs wetly through his tears. “I just wanna love someone like my dad loved my mom, you know? Marriage, kids all that. Man, who knew almost dying would turn you into a sap?”

Your heart hurts for him. “I understand. It’s okay to want those things. You’ll find her.”

“I hope so. If not, I’ll just join you and Bob. We can be a throuple.” He replies, voice clearer now, back to his antics.

You laugh. “Maybe not that, but you know I’m always here for you, right? My parents too. And Mav and Penny. We all love you.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Sunny girl. Hey, I think Bob’s about done. I’ll let you go. See you in a few days, alright?”

“Sounds good, can’t wait to see you all” you reply, hanging up.

________________________________________

You lay on the couch and Steve joins you, plopping down with a heavy sigh on your chest, pushing the air out of your lungs. You laugh and boop his nose. “You’re relieved too, huh?”

Your heart begins to pound when your phone rings. You accept the FaceTime and burst into tears as his sweet face appears, looking as handsome as ever, even when sporting a neatly sutured cut on his cheek.

“Oh no, I’m okay. I’m so sorry, honey. Please, don’t cry.” He says, slurring slightly.

“No, I’m sorry, I’m just so relieved. Are you okay? You sound funny.” You ask, laughing as Steve’s head pops up when he hears Bob.

“Yeah,” he yawns. “So I really don’t like needles. And they told me they had to numb the cut first so they could put stitches in. Then they pulled out this big needle and were about to stick it in my face to numb it. But then I got super lightheaded and the nurse told the doctor I was going…vasovaginal or something? Then they laid me down and put my feet up for a few minutes and gave me…a lousy-pam pill? I think that’s what they said, I don’t know, it made me tired though. I told them I don’t have a vagina though. Why would they say that Sunny?”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing as you answer. “It sounds like you had a vasovagal reaction, which just means you were about to faint. It happens all the time when needles are involved. They put your feet up to get the blood flowing back to your head. The pill sounds like it was lorazepam, to help you relax to have the stitches done. Which looks good, by the way.”

“Oh…okay. That makes sense. God, you’re so smart, Sun” he chuckles.

“Thanks,” You smile, tears already drying.

He is going to be mortified tomorrow if he remembers this.

You can see he’s fighting to keep his eyes open. “I’m sorry, but I think I’m gonna go to bed. I’m just so tired.”

“I understand. I’m just glad I was able to see you. Do you know if anyone called Annie?”

“I’m not sure, could you though? And tell her I love her?” He mumbles, eyes drifting closed, the phone dropping slightly in his hand.

“Yeah, I’ll call her. Goodnight. I’m so glad you’re okay”.

“Me too. Night, love you”. He replies, hanging up.

Even though you know it's a slip off the tongue, your heart stutters.

________________________________________

You shoot a text to Annie asking if she has a few minutes to chat and she calls you nstantly.

You tell her what happened and apologize for not getting in touch sooner, but you didn’t want to worry her while she’s on vacation until you knew more.

“It’s okay, I understand and appreciate it.” She assures you, talking over the girls who are yelling for her in the background. She lets you go after promising her a coffee date when she’s back.

You let Steve out a last time, get your work stuff ready for the next day, and fall into bed early, utterly exhausted from the stress of the day.

________________________________________

Bob wakes up the next morning stiff and sore, but feeling well rested. As he’s stretching the kinks out, the conversation with Sunny comes rushing back to him. He groans as he remembers telling her about fainting over a needle. He feels like he might be sick when he recalls saying ‘I love you’.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it though, as Bradley knocks on the door, giving him a 5-minute warning before their debriefing.

________________________________________

You check your phone on your lunch break and you have a single unread text.

Penny: They’ll be back tonight by 6.

________________________________________

A/N: Sorry for the little cliff hanger last night. I think this is the first chapter I’ve written with no smut lol. Any one catch on to what I’m setting up for Bradley?

Taglist:

(I added whoever liked the post about being added to my taglist, lmk if you want off of it)

@blindedbythelightt

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth

@lexixstewart

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@mrsrobertfloyd

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #jake seresin #top gun maverick #natasha phoenix trace #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete mitchell #aint no sunshine when she’s gone

[bugtastic]

To reach you is a dream of man.

Nicolas D. Wolfwood x gn!reader.

tags: fluff, small bits of angst if you squint

warnings: a bit suggestive with the kissing, wolfwood is a bit jealous of vash, alcohol consumption

summary: wolfwood LONGS for you and sulks but he gets all the kisses and hugs he deserves

word count: i have no idea. it's long tho so have a drink beside you i'll take you on a ride with this one.

like and reblog if u want! notes are at the end of the fic! enjoy :)

-

He couldn't take his eyes off you.

Smiling at the Humanoid Typhoon, you laughed with him. Him. That stupid Needle Noggin'. Wolfwood's head was on the counter of the bar holding his drink like it would run away the moment he released his death grip on the glass. The bartender noticed his sour mood, but that's nothing new to them. Every once in a while, a depressed patreon comes in and drowns themselves in their sorrow, thinking alcohol would help them. Wolfwood was no different right now. He knows for sure Roberto noticed his longing gaze on you as you warped a hand around Vash's shoulder, laughing cheerfully, and the blond brought his drink next to yours, making a *clank* sound.

Vash just seemed to make you smile so easily. Why couldn't he be the only one to make you smile? Well… he does. Wolfwood's eyes have a spark in them, remembering the time he made you laugh. Oh, how he would love to hear that sound again.

Your laugh was precious.

One night, Wolfwood smoked up a storm, as usual. Sitting down in the sand and lighting a cigarette, he saw a figure sit down next to him. He knew it was you. He could never mistake you for someone else. Your aura had something special that instantly calmed the raging demons inside of him. He didn't turn to you, only looking ahead of him. Everyone was asleep. Meryl was asleep in the truck with Roberto, and Vash was on top of the truck snoring loudly.

Why didn't you just go to sleep?

Why must you bother him with your presence?

The moment you're close to him, he wants to hold you close to him.

Cage his arms around you, bury his nose in your hair as your smell envelopes his entire being.

He had to restrain himself. He just quietly enjoyed your presence. This was enough for him.

You stared at him and Wolfwood felt like one of his strings was just about ready to break and he would have kissed you right then and there, but he stubbornly held himself back. You moved closer to him and spoke.

„Wolfwood, why are you always awake so late at night?“ You questioned. Oh, how he loved the gentle way your voice would sound when you called out his name. His heart clenched. How he wished to hear you say his real name, Nicholas. His heart clenched tighter in his chest.

„Can't sleep. What about you though, Stardust? You're always out like a light the moment the moons appear in the sky.“ You chuckled quietly. Wolfwood felt his pride grow at your chuckle. He was the one who made you do that, not him. Not that outlaw.

You looked at the sky and laid down from your sitting position. You stared at the moons glowing brightly in the sky. „I just… can't sleep. Too many thoughts I guess. I thought that all that running we did today to protect Vash would leave me glued to my sleeping bag. But I guess not, my brain decided otherwise instead!“ You yelled that last part a bit loudly. Your hands flew to your mouth and you looked around alarmingly, hoping that your sudden outburst didn’t wake anyone up - thankfully, it didn’t. 

Wolfwood chuckled deeply at your worry for the others. God, you could be so adorable, he thought as he finally turned around to look at you. What he saw was something he never saw you do before in his presence. Your face flushed, a beautiful red hue coloured over your cheeks, gentle eyes wide with what seemed to be joy and something else, your fingers barely brushing over your plump pink lips.

„Sorry, I didn't mean to be loud there.“ You chuckled nervously, quickly burying your face in your hands. No, why are you apologizing? You just gave him the most beautiful image he would keep for eternity in his mind. In that moment, he would replay that image of your flushed face over and over and over again. Oh, how he wished to take your hands away from your face and gaze at your beautiful features. In private, he noticed you didn’t like looking at yourself in mirrors. When he asked about it, you gave a small and quick answer with a small smile, saying that you didn’t really like the way you looked though he needn’t worry about it. 

But he thought differently. The moment he saw you he thought that God himself had sent you to soothe him, to forgive him of all the sins he's committed. You were so beautiful to him. You were gorgeous, pretty, breathtaking, amazing, and all the words he couldn’t think of in that moment that could possibly describe your beauty. To reach out to you, to hold you steady in his arms, an angel sent to No Man's Land, would be a dream come true. 

He stayed calm and collected, dragging his cigarette and puffing out a cloud of smoke. „No matter. You don't need to say sorry. Tell me, child, what sinful thoughts are running through your mind?“ Wolfwood teased. You shoot up from your lying position immediately, and your face flushed again at his statement before snorting. Every time you snorted, you put a hand on your mouth, stifling it as much as you could. „You shouldn't hide your laugh like that, Stardust.“ He said as he grinned wildly, enjoying this rare moment of you two being alone together.

„Hey-„ You started but quickly stopped as you saw Vash stir in his sleep on top of the truck. You lowered your voice as you started poking the priest on his shoulder. „You can't just say stuff like that! Also, I would never confess anything to you. You're a lousy priest, after all. Carrying a cross around that's actually a machine- actually laser- whatever gun- it's not holy even in the slightest!"

You started poking him more on purpose to annoy him. "Does." *poke* "Not." *poke* "Count." *poke* "To." *poke* "Being." *poke* "A." *poke* "Priest." *poke*

Wolfwood laughed deeply. You stopped poking him, and as you were about to ask what was so funny, you felt his hand grab yours and pull you towards him. You squealed softly, feeling your cascade over him. You closed your eyes as you felt your cheek hit something hard. As you opened your eyes, you saw that you were on his chest and Wolfwood was lying down in the sand. You held yourself up on your elbows as you were about to scold Wolfwood for laying in the sand. His clothes will get dirty! But then again, you were laying on the sand a minute ago as well…

As you were about to say something you saw something in his eyes. A sparkle? A trick of the light? A small, fragmented glow that you could have easily missed if you never challenged yourself to stare into his eyes. His dark eyes stared right back at you. Minutes felt like hours, and the two of you wished this very moment would last forever.

Wolfwood stared at you longingly, adoringly. He was so close to you, your bodies touching and molding perfectly, as though you were made for each other, and he wanted nothing more than to caress your cheek and close the distance between the two of you. 

God, your lips never looked so inviting before. He could feel his inner demons taunt him in the back of his mind, telling him to give in to his selfish desires. To keep you close to him forever and never let go. 

Ah-

You seem to snap back to reality. You smile at him, flashing that gorgeous smile which causes his heart to ache painfully with longing and he feels a sense of pride warm his chest. Only he got to see that delicate smile of yours. Only he knows the worth of that dazzling smile.

„I'll confess to you. Not my sins, but my thoughts, if you are willing to listen, Father.“ That last word was supposed to come off as a tease but your gentle tone and smile failed to give it any teasing remark. You noticed that Wolfwood didn't have his signature sunglasses on. You never realised he took them off to begin with. He didn’t even have a cigarette trapped between his lips. Where did his last bud go? You feel exposed like this. You take a deep breath and stare at Wolfwood's awe-struck expression. He blinks up at you, watching as you adjusted your position so you were now straddling his hips, his hands unknowingly pressing into your thighs and holding onto them.

He had to suppress a groan of satisfaction at the sudden contact and he chose to ignore it - for now.

He grins up at you. You giggle at his expression. 

„I'm all ears, Stardust.“ He said softly, encouragingly. You start speaking about something, something about your day, the fears you encountered today, fears from the past. But he couldn't hear you, your words falling deaf to his ears. He could only admire your features as you spoke. Your eyes, nose, cheeks, eyebrows, lips - he's so hyper focused on everything that is you right now. You, atop of him under the night sky, the shining glow of the moons, painting you like a portrait in his eyes. Oh, how he wishes he had a camera on him right now, just so he could save the image of what he saw. You, under the night sky above him, confessing all your fears to him. Not just to any priest, but to him, to Nicholas.

A sharp sound of glass hitting the counter breaks his reminiscing. He groans as he sees Roberto staring down at him with squinted, blood-shot eyes.

„What do you want, Scruffy?“ Wolfwood manages to blurt out in his drunken state. Meryl appears from behind Roberto, looking at Wolfwood. She feels pity for him. Her and Roberto - even in their tipsy state - could clearly see Wolfwood’s look of longing as he stared at you. 'It's pathetic!', Meryl said to Robreto. If he can tease and bicker with her all the time, not sparing her of any harsh words he spews out at her, he should be able to tell you how he feels with just as much ease. And anyone with a pair of eyes can tell he feels strongly about you. 

Meryl noticed the way his demeanor sparks up like a firecracker when you talk with him. She also noticed how he never seems to tease you as harshly as he does her. When you back her up though, he seems to tone it down a notch as you tease him back and then you both start throwing playful, teasing insults at one another. Those moments are what make Wolfwood smile when he thinks no one else realises. A genuine smile from Wolfwood, Meryl noted. Looks like you're the only one that can wipe that shit-eating grin off his face. You poke your tongue out and make funny faces at him as Meryl hides behind your back. The moment you turn around though, taking Meryl with you, she turns around and pokes her tongue out at the Undertaker as he quietly growls back at her as Vash tries to calm him down by patting his shoulder lightly. 

Back to the present, Meryl looks at you and Vash speaking together about a random topic she didn’t have much of an interest in joining in. She was too tired to deal with you and Vash and your drunken bullshit. But she's also tired of Wolfwood's bullshit. She swipes the undertaker's drink from his hand as he tries to reach back for it only for him to slump back down to the counter.

God that's a depressing sight.

She pulls Wolfwood back up with her hands gripping his shoulders. He simply stares back at her, a sour expression on his red cheeked face and a heated glare which sent daggers straight into Meryl’s soul.

Some kind of priest, huh?

„You HAVE to talk to her! Call her up to your room and talk. Do you have any idea how depressing and creepy it is to watch you stare at (Y/N) for almost 2 hours now? Big guy handling a machine gun almost double his size but can't handle telling his true feelings towards someone? How pathetic.“ Meryl exclaimed dramatically, flailing her hands around as she spoke. 

Hearing her words awakened something deep in Wolfwood. It felt like anger, but it was far more primal than that. Anger which he had never realised he felt before - until he watched you laugh joyfully with Needle Noggin’ of all people. 

„I'll show you ‘pathetic’ little lady. I'll SHOW you.“ He stood up from his chair and walked over to where you and Vash were sitting. He stares at you and Vash as you both don't notice him at all, too caught up in your conversation.

Oh , how he wishes he could just blow out the blond’s brain with the Punisher.

He clears his throat as you and Vash try to find where the sound came from. Yours and Vash’s attention are now on Wolfwood, and you smile brightly at him.

You were drunk. From the way you swayed back and forth even when firmly sat on the stool to the hazed look of joy and drunken stupor in your eyes. It took you a moment to realise that it was Wolfwood, but when you did, your heart immediately sparked with a joy that clearly formed in your eyes.

„WOLFWOOD! Join us~ me and Vash were just talking about you hehehe~“ You and the blond giggle at each other as Wolfwood stares blankly at the two of you, his brow arching slightly.

„Yeahhhh! Come have some fun! You always have a frown imprinted on your face, I bet (Y/N) could help replace it with a smileee~! Your smiles are JUST the best hahaha~.“ Vash says as you hit him playfully on the shoulder telling him ‘staaawppp it Vashhh'.

Wolfwood thinks he might hurl the sight of you two.

He shakes his head as he remembers the reason why he's here. „You're coming with me, Stardust, we need to talk.“ He takes your hand causing you to whine and wave back at Vash, who was simply far too drunk to even stop you from being kidnapped. 

Wolfwood drags you through the bar and through the hallways of the hotel you're all staying at. You stare up at him thinking what the hell has gotten into him, though you did not make a move to stop him even as his grip tightened around your wrist, causing you to hiss in pain.

He stopped immediately, eyes widening slightly at the realisation that he was hurting you. How could he treat you like this when he was just worshipping you in his head a minute ago?

Wolfwood loosens his grip but never lets go, the warmth of his hand sending shivers up your arm and spine. You both walk together in comfortable silence as he takes you to his room, a whirlwind of emotions spinning through both of your minds. 

He briefly lets go of your wrist to unlock the door to his room, and you rub your hand unconsciously, missing the warmth that was there moments ago. 

When he finally manages to unlock the door, it swings open and he holds it for you, gesturing for you to enter first like a true gentleman. You chuckled. 

It was a rather small room, but neither of you had the right to complain. Having a bed and a roof over your head was better than slumbering in the back of some car in the middle of the desert. The quiet priest walks past you as you make your way to his bed, taking a seat on the very edge as he turns the lamp on to illuminate the darkened room. 

You patiently wait, watching curiously as he removes his sunglasses from his face and takes off his jacket. You felt your cheeks warm at the sight - seeing him so exposed yet still perfectly covered. It felt like home, in a way. You felt the bed dip slightly as he sat right next to you, leaving only a small distance between the two of you. His head hung low and he stared at the floor, unsure of what to say.

There was a moment of silence, which was cut abruptly by the sound of his soft, hesitant voice.

„Stardust, remember the night when you confessed your fears to me?“ You nod, and he continues. „That night I think I finally realised I couldn't take my damn hands off you. I craved your presence. I hogged all of your attention that night and I was drunk on it. I was… drunk on you in general.“ He laughed deeply as you felt your cheeks warm up. „Every time darn time that Needle Noggin’ is with you, I want to tear his head off with my bare hands. You give so much to him and he makes you smile so easily and I wish… I wish I could make you smile the same way he does and I-„ He stops himself abruptly, his hands clenching together.

Wolfwood dared to look up at you, to see your reaction to his words and he swore his heart skipped a beat then and there. You smiled at him, so serenely, so beautiful.  A smile, he confesses, he has only ever seen once before. The same smile he saw on that night. He suddenly felt too embarrassed to continue. 

He stared at the floor for what felt like long, agonising minutes until he felt something soft and gentle touch his cheek. Wolfwood looked over at you.

Your hand.

Your hand was touching him, of your own free will. 

You scooted closer to him. He felt your hips and legs touch his and he felt a shiver go through him. God, he craved you so much that it was absolute torture to not just take you in his arms right then and there. He felt like he was going to fall apart just from your touch.

But he waited. Patiently. He waited until he was certain that this was not some sick dream he was having. He needed to know that it wasn’t just his mind playing a cruel trick on him.

You could feel his scent - the smell of burnt ash and whiskey. You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. His breath hitched in his throat when you began to speak. „I love you, Wolfwood. I have for a very long time now, actually. Ever since I met you with the crew.“

The Undertaker raised his hand over your own that rested on cheek, his warm palm shooting sparks up your arm.

He could stay like this forever.

„Don't you… Don’t you like Needle Noggin?“ Wolfwood questioned. 

You pulled back, creating space between the two of you as you stared at him with wide eyes. Then, much to his shock, you burst into a fit of laughter, causing Wolfwood to deadpan at your reaction and for you to apologise in between chuckles.

„Vash and I? No! We're just travel companions. We have known each other for a long time but we have more of a sibling relationship. Nothing romantic.“ You explain.

For the first time that night, Wolfwood exhaled a deep breath of relief that he did not realise he was holding. You chuckled at his reaction. 

A moment of comfortable silence slipped between the two of you as you shared this tender moment. Sparks of adoration and longing tantalised your fingers and heart strings and a primal look formed in Wolfwood’s dark eyes, a look which only you could create. 

He wanted more. Something inside him is telling him to just go for it.

Take your chance, Nicolas.

It's now or never.

Without even realising it, Wolfwood managed to wrap his arm around your waist and hoist you onto his lap in one swift, fluid motion, which made you silently scream.

Your face was crimson red as you stared at him with wide eyes. Oh, how he simply loved that look on your face - a look which was caused by only him and no one else. And for that, he felt smug.

„Wh- Wha-” You started and Wolfwood hushed you gently, brushing away strands of loose hair behind your ear as he brought you closer, so close that you could feel his hot breath against your lips. 

„What are you doing…?“ You asked quietly, your soft voice nearly going unheard.

Wolfwood was a greedy man. He knew that from the very beginning. But with you? ‘Greedy’ wasn’t even the right word to describe what he felt for you. 

„I have something to confess to you, Stardust.“ His intense gaze flickered between your lips and sparkling eyes. You moved forward as if on pure instinct, more than prepared to close the gap between you. 

He could no longer wait. Not now. Not ever. Not when the demons on his shoulder told him to take every part of you. 

And that is exactly what he planned on doing.

He moved his hand to the back of your neck and gently brought his lips onto yours. 

Desperation was sharp on his lips. His hand wandered from your neck to your hair, fingers brushing through soft strands while his other hand held your shaking form in place. 

He grew cocky, biting your lower lip gently, slipping his tongue through the folds when you gasped softly against him. He smiled triumphantly into the kiss, pulling you even closer with a hand pressed to the small of your back. 

You could taste the longing on his tongue, the need and want, as you both fought for domination, though the winner was clear from the very beginning. Your presence alone could only satiate a small part of his hunger for you. He wanted - no, he needed - more of you. 

Every single part of you was enticing, inviting him in as your hands roamed his clothed chest and arms, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around madly. You wanted this too, for so long.

It was so hard to believe any of this was real. But it was. And the marks will remain there long after you both are done.

You both pulled away from one another to catch your breaths, your foreheads pressed together, and the tips of your noses touching. Wolfwood chuckles breathlessly, holding you close. „I haven't even confessed yet, my angel."

You look up at him with half-lidded eyes, lips twitching upward into a smile. „Didn't you basically show how you felt?“ You pointed out, laughing softly.

Wolfwood shakes his head, inhaling your scent deeply as he cups your warm cheeks in the palm of his hands. He looks up at you with glossy eyes filled with hope, with love. Gorgeous, sparkling black eyes which now possessed a light in them. 

„I love you. I love you so much (Y/N).“ He kisses you again. „The number of times I thought about you have been endless. Every waking moment, I think about you. Even in my own dreams, I can only think of you.“ 

This time, you pull him by the collar of his shirt, and you plant your lips firmly against his. Tears sting the back of your eyes, and you can feel them fall slowly, steadily, which Wolfwood wipes away with his thumb tenderly.

Even out of pure joy, he did not wish to see you cry.

„I love you too, Nicholas. I love you so much Nico. I love you, I love you!“ You cheerfully chant, his name rolling off your tongue perfectly. You couldn't stop the words from falling out like a waterfall.

You do love him afterall.

Wolfwood wrapped his strong arms around you and pulled you down onto the bed with him. He buries his face into your hair and kisses the top of your head lovingly. You nuzzle your face into his chest, the rapid beating of his heart and his scent lulling you to sleep. 

He holds you tighter, your words repeating in his head and he could not help but smile.

I love you. I love you. I love you. 

A man, a sinner like him, should not be so fortunate. He has killed many, committed many sins whether they be the work of God or not. But, even so, a kind-hearted and gentle person like you could look past all of his fatal flaws and love him so dearly.

If this is the work of demons, then damn, so be it. He would spend an eternity in primordial flame if it meant that he could always hold you as close as he was holding you now.

He, Nicholas, fell asleep with you wrapped protectively in his arms, smiling. 

He finally heard your voice call out his name.

-

notes:

thank you for reading this long ass fic. this is the first piece i actually wrote for trigun. i remember being so frustrated that there are no wolfwood fics and i just exploded. And wrote this. i hope you enjoyed it!

also, also, my asks are open so feel free to talk to me!

#wolfwood x reader #vash the stampede #meryl stryfe #roberto de niro #nicolas d wolfwood #nicolas d. wolfwood #nicolas d wolfwood x reader #nicolas d. wolfwood x reader #trigun x reader #trigun #trigun stampede #trigun stampede x reader #wolfwood x you #nicolas d. wolfwood x you #nicolas d wolfwood x you

[howlingday]

Ruby: Ugh... Who the hell is arching me now? Lil' Miss? Dr. Merlot? Senator Palpatine?

Jaune: This isn't for you.

Oscar: I'm sorry! They asked for an address, and technically I do live here.

Whitley: W-What does it say?

Ruby: "I will get you! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Oscar: Who's Mwahahahahaha?

Jaune: It's an evil laugh, Oscar.

Ruby: Wait a minute, I recognize that shade of black! It's Jet-Oil-Obsidian, and that laugh is exactly how Cinder spells her evil laughs! With an MW and ten Has!

Jaune: You think it's a coincidence?

Ruby: I think this arch just got personal. Boys, get your coats! We're giving you an upgrade!

---------------------------------------------------

Ruby: Oscar, come on! You gotta get out there!

Oscar: No way! I am not wearing this!

Ruby: Oscar Pine, from age six to puberty, Nicholas Schnee kicked ass in that suit of armor! It's damn near impenetrable, so get out here and kick some ass!

Jaune: Besides, it can't be any more embarrassing than Whitley's.

Whitley: (Wearing tights) I don't know why I thought someone named "The Pollenator" would be cool, but I did.

Oscar: (Waddles out)

Ruby: Snrk! W-Wow! You really... You look like a real superhero!

Whitley: ...You look like a white version of the Black Knight from Scooby-Doo.

Oscar: At least I don't look like a colorblind version of Robin Hood: Men in Tights!

BOOM!

Jaune: And there goes the sattelite dish. Odd, since this is Level One.

Oscar: Wh-What do I do?! I don't have any magic, or weapons, or-

Ruby: Don't worry! Whitley has sneezing powder. Your job as the hero is to give a heroic speech!

Jaune: (Picks up Oscar) It's Level One, Oscar. It's a show. He stuns you, you stun him, he vows revenge, and you tell him good always triumphs over evil.

Oscar: Does it?

Jaune: ...Sure. (Sets him down) Now get out there and get this over with. You're blocking traffic.

---------------------------------------------------

Oscar: And then he throws his stars, punching me in the chest! I thought, I'm dead!

Whitley: Me, too! Oh, and there were all these sparks flying!

Nora: (Giddy, Grinning ear-to-ear)

Yang: (Smiling, Listening to the excitement)

Oscar: But the armor caught the stars, so by some miracle, I'm alive! I'm still standing!

Whitley: And then I hit him with a broom! And I start whaling on him from above!

Oscar: Whitley is just beating him like he owes him money!

Whitley: Like Stewie Griffin style!

Jaune: (Watching from afar) So, uh... When are we gonna tell them that they were all hallucinating on nitrous and we found them all asleep in a little pile?

Ruby: ...Never.

#rwby #ruby rose #jaune arc #whitley schnee #oscar pine #yang xiao long #nora valkyrie

[madiomens]

Just Pretend [n.s.]

Chapter Ten

Warning: Slight angst, small mention of past abuse

The rest of the shows in the UK went on without another mishap like the first show had and before I knew it, we were landing in France for the two shows we had there. Noah insisted we now had to christen every Airbnb and hotel we stay in so he fucked the life out of me at 6 AM after we arrived to the Airbnb. Best part was when Jolly walked into his room and I had to hide under the covers until he left after the ten minute conversation he insisted on having with Noah.

We had an entire day free to do whatever and prep for the shows, which is how I was currently standing on top of the Eiffel Tower with the guys.

I leaned against the railing and closed my eyes as the cool Paris wind whipped around my face, sending a shiver down my body and causing me to pull my cardigan tighter around my body. November in France was completely different than November in California. Instead of a cool sunny it was a cool gloomy, dark clouds hanging over us as thunder rumbled in the distance from the impending storm. Noah's scent caused me to snap out of my trance, opening my eyes to see him leaning against the rail beside me with a soft grin.

"Hi." He said, corner of his mouth twitching up.

I smiled back. "Hi."

"What you thinking about?" He questioned, bumping his shoulder against mine.

I shook my head. "Absolutely nothing, for once in my life."

His smile softened as he pushed a piece of hair behind my ear, causing my heart to race as his eyes searched mine. I stared at him for a few more moments before forcing myself to break eye contact and stare out across the landscape, my heart beating incredibly too fast for my liking. I don't know what it is about this man that makes my heart want to leap from this Eiffel Tower but I'm still trying to figure out if I like it or not.

"You guys want to go back to the Airbnb and grab stuff to show prep?" Nicholas asked us as he joined my side.

I breathed a sigh of relief to get a break from the racehorses running around my chest and nodded at him. "I would love to make a huge cup of coffee before we head to the venue."

"Make me one too?" Nicholas said, batting his eyes.

I snorted and nodded at him. "Of course." I turned to see Noah pouting at me, lip dramatically poked out and causing me to laugh. "Yes, I will make you some too."

He grinned and wrapped his arms around me as Nicholas did, squishing me between them. I wrapped an arm around Noah's waist and tried to maneuver one around Nicholas from my squished position with a laugh. 

"We loooove you, Maddie." Nicholas said, resting his head on mine.

I laughed and shook my head at them. "I love you too, dorks."

They unwrapped their arms from me before we made our way down the elevator to solid ground. Our Airbnb was a short walk from here so we headed out, hoping the storm didn't downpour on us before we made it. Sprinkles started hitting our heads as we unlocked the house and walked in, thunder sending a spark of anxiety through my chest as I slightly jumped at the loudness of it. I saw Noah looking at me in concern as we walked into the kitchen and I sent him a breathy laugh.

"Sorry. Me and storms don't get along." I said as I grabbed stuff to make our coffee while the other guys began packing show stuff.

"Did something happen?" He asked as he leaned against the counter to watch me.

The corner of my mouth twitched up while I began pouring instant coffee crystals into mugs. "Without getting too dark, I had a shitty ex who would put his hands on me. The worst of it happened during a storm." Noah went silent, causing me to look up at him. My eyes met his concerned face, eyebrows pinched together as his frown deepened into anger. I reached across the counter to squeeze his arm. "It's okay, I'm fine now."

He clenched his jaw as his eyes stayed locked onto mine. "Where is he now?"

I sighed and let go of his arm as I turned to fill up the mugs with water and put them in the microwave. "Here, probably. He was from Paris."

A breeze washed over me as Noah rushed to my side once I started the microwave, grabbing my face to make me look at him. "Any chance he'd be at any of the shows here?"

I chewed on my bottom lip as I looked into his eyes. "A high chance. I've tried not to think about it."

His jaw clenched more. "I'll fuck him up."

I let out a breathy laugh and placed my hand on his. "Trust me, I will too."

"Everything ok?" Nicholas' voice questioned from behind us.

We turned to look at him standing with Jolly and Folio at the entrance to the kitchen, concern on their faces. Noah looked at me as if asking if it was ok to tell them and I sent him a small nod before looking back at the guys.

"Maddie has a shitty ex who lives here and might possibly be at the show. He put his hands on her when they were together, and I will fuck him up if I see him." Noah said, anger seeping into his words. Anger appeared on the other guys' faces as they walked over to us, setting their bags on the ground. 

Folio placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. "Will you show us a picture of him so we can also fuck him up if needed?"

I laughed and pulled out my phone, scrolling way back in my camera roll to find the one picture I still had for times like this. I turned the screen around to show them the picture and Noah took my phone to look at it closer, the guys squeezing in beside him to see it.

"Looks like a pussy." Noah said, causing me to laugh more.

"I can take him." Folio said, flexing his muscles as hard as he possibly could, Nicholas and Jolly agreeing.

I shook my head a them and wrapped my arms around them for a group hug. They wrapped their arms around me as well, smothering me in their embrace. "Thank you, guys."

"Of course. We're a family now, you always have us." Nicholas said.

The microwave beeping caused us to break apart and I pulled out the mugs, setting them on the counter to start putting creamer into them. I screwed the lids on and handed them out to everyone, all of them placing quick kisses on my cheek in thanks. The other guys walked away and I grabbed a mug to hand to Noah, stopping one I saw him staring down at the ground.

"Hey." I said, grabbing his hand with my free one and causing him to look up at me. "It's ok. All in the past."

He sighed and grabbed the mug from my hand, squeezing the one I was holding with his own. "Makes me sick guys do that to women. Even more sick someone did it to you."

I softly grinned at him. "Getting protective, are we?"

He squinted his eyes at me, causing me to laugh. "I've come to realize I'd do anything to protect you."

I chewed on the inside of my lip to stifle the grin that threatened to explode onto my face. "I'd do anything to protect you, too."

I broke our eye contact and turned to screw the lid onto my mug so we could head out with the guys, picking up a backpack from the ground and throwing it over my shoulder. Noah did the same with a duffle bag and we headed out to the car waiting for us, piling in so we could set off to the venue.

My phone buzzed with a message while we were setting up and I set down the tape I was using to pull it out, my old manager's name flashing across the screen.

"GIRL. Please tell me this tension isn't fake. Because, WHEW."

The message included a screenshot of the post Bryan made that included me wrapping Noah's hands for him, our eye contact strong as the tension hopped out of the screen. I chuckled at her message, quickly typing one back.

"A girl never kisses and tells. Miss you."

I put the phone back into my pocket and shook my head at her with a smile, finishing up what I was working on.

We finished up at the venue and grabbed a quick dinner before returning to the Airbnb for the night, jet lag weighing on us heavily. I crawled into my bed and closed my eyes before a loud crack of thunder caused me to jump and sit straight up, my heart pounding as my chest heaved.

I grabbed my phone off the nightstand to text Noah, my hands shaking.

"Are you awake?"

As I sent a message, Noah sent one right as mine said delivered.

"Room across the hall from you."

I softly smiled, realizing he thought of me as soon as the thunder went off.

I pushed myself out of bed, pulling the sleeves of my hoodie over my hands when a chill went through my body. I softly opened the door to my room and walked across the hall to Noah's room, slowly twisting the doorknob. I jumped as another crack of thunder sounded off, my eyes landing on Noah walking up to me in the dim lighting of his bedside lamp. He grabbed my hand to pull me into his room, shutting the door behind us before wrapping his arms around me in comfort.

"I didn't want you alone for this storm after what you told me." He said into my hair as I stayed firmly pressed against him, his arms wrapped around me tightly.

I inhaled his scent deeply, my heartbeat slowing down. "Thank you."

He pulled back and nodded his head toward his bed, leading me to it. I climbed onto the mattress as he did the same, holding his arms out to pull me onto his chest.

"You never have to be alone for storms ever again."

That was the first night I've slept soundly during a storm since I left my ex. I woke up the next morning on my side, Noah's arms wrapped around me tightly from behind as his chest was pressed firmly against my back. A soft grin slid onto my face as I sighed and settled into him more, placing my hand on top of the one that was rested against my stomach. He stirred from behind me, signaling he was waking up.

He tightened his grip on my midsection and leaned down to kiss the top of my head. "Morning." He said, sleepiness causing his voice to be deep and husky.

I rolled over in his grasp, facing his chest and nuzzling my face into it. "Good morning."

He pushed my hair off my forehead and leaned down to place a soft kiss onto it. "Did you sleep?"

I nodded against his chest and pulled my head back to look up at him. "First storm I've slept through in forever." He grinned sleepily at me as I leaned up to place my lips on his, holding the kiss for a bit before pulling back. "Thank you."

"Like I said, you never have to be alone for storms ever again." He rasped out, placing another chaste kiss on my lips.

I grinned and rolled onto my back to stretch out my tired muscles. "What time is it?"

He reached behind him to grab his phone off the nightstand, squinting at the brightness. "11."

"I'm still not used to sleeping past 8." I said with a breathy chuckle as I sat up. "We should probably get ready and head to the venue for VIP."

He groaned and rolled over, throwing his arm around my waist. "I just wanna stay here all day." He said, voice muffled by the pillow.

I chuckled and scratched his head, messing his hair up even more. "Me too, but you got a job to do."

He sighed and leaned up to place a chaste kiss on my lips before hopping out of bed. "Shower with me?"

I smiled and crawled out of his bed. "Let me get a change of clothes."

He followed me to his bedroom door, swinging it open to reveal Nicholas with his fist raised about to knock on the door. His eyes widened as they landed on us, looking back and forth.

My heart skipped a beat as I looked at him, racking my brain to come up with an excuse. "I don't do well with storms and Noah was awake."

Nicholas nodded as if he bought my excuse. "I have CBD sleep gummies if you think they'd ever help."

I nodded. "Thank you, that means a lot." I said with a smile.

He smiled back at me and turned his attention to Noah. "I was just seeing if you were up. We're about to shower and get ready to leave."

"I'm about to do the same." Noah said, looking as if he was fighting a blush creeping up his neck.

I stifled a laugh and squeezed past Nicholas. "I'll do the same and meet you guys out there."

Nicholas shot me a ghost of a smirk, causing me to push the smile down as I escaped into my room, closing the door behind me. I snorted as I walked over to my bed to put my phone on the charger, seeing Noah's name pop up on the screen.

"Come back please."

I smirked as I read it, typing back a reply.

"Enjoy your shower."

I heard him groan from his room, causing me to laugh as I gathered my stuff to shower.  An hour later we had eaten and were pulling up outside the venue. I slung my bag of clothes for the show over my shoulder we we piled out of the car, excited screams echoing around us from the fans who had already begun lining up. We waved at them before heading inside, rushing to get soundcheck done and finish setting up by the time VIP rolled around.

VIP finished and I was making my way back to the barricade after the opening acts performed.

"Hi, Maddie!" A couple girls greeted me.

I smiled and made my way to them. "Hi, guys. You doing alright?"

They nodded at me. "We have a question for you."

I cocked my brow at them. "What's up?"

"Are you and Noah dating?" The taller brunette questioned me.

My eyes widened before I laughed. "No, we're not."

"I'm sorry for asking, you two just seem extremely close. And the picture Bryan posted was the hottest thing I've ever seen." The brunette said, fanning her face dramatically.

I laughed, tossing my head back as the two girls joined in. "I'll blame it on the good lighting. The guys and I are just close. Being together 24/7 makes that inevitable."

"True. I'm sorry for asking! You two just look really good together." She said with a smile.

I smiled back at her. "Don't apologize. Thank you, though!"

I took a picture with them and a few other people before hopping up on the box I sit on. The guys performed perfectly in my eyes. They were full of energy and Noah's vocals were practically pristine. He seemed to keep his eyes on me more ever since the hiccup we had in the UK, causing me to chuckle every time I noticed it. 

We packed up a few things after the show and took quick showers backstage, changing into more comfortable clothes before heading outside to greet a few fans at the gates. I helped Noah carry the last set of boxes we didn't want to leave at the arena over night to the van when I heard a voice speak up from the crowd.

"Maddie?" A male voice called out.

I froze in my spot, the box I was carrying of merch crashing onto the ground. My ears started ringing and my chest heaved as my heart rate spiked at the familiar voice. I saw Noah look at me from the corner of my eye. His voice sounded like it was at the end of a tunnel as he talked to me, causing me to jerk my eyes to him. His eyebrows were pinched together in concern as he set his box down and grabbed my hands with his.

"What's wrong?" He questioned, my hearing focusing on his voice.

"Maddie, is that you?" The same male voice called out from the crowd.

My eyes got wider as I started at Noah, my hands shaking in his grasp. He turned to look at the crowd, squinting to see them better. His teeth clenched harshly and eyes darkened as his eyes landed on the person who was calling my name.

"Noah, don't." I said, voice shaking.

I looked over and saw the rest of the guys approaching us in confusion. Noah nodded his head towards the crowd, causing the guys to see the person Noah was staring down. Their faces hardened once their eyes landed on him. Noah's chest heaved as he turned to walk towards the crowd.

"Noah!" Folio exclaimed as Noah's steps quickened to the gate.

He grabbed the shirt of Gabriel, my ex's, shirt and brought his fist back before harshly landing it onto Gabriel's face. The sound of the punch echoed around us as surprised gasps came from the crowd of fans.

"Noah, stop!" I yelled as I rushed over to them, my feet finally working again.

Gabriel hopped over the gate to try and fight back but was met with Noah's fist again, this time knocking him to the ground. Security ran over to pull the two apart, escorting Gabriel away from us.

"Got another person to do your dirty work. I'll be seeing you again, you bitch." Gabriel spit out as he was dragged away.

Noah's chest heaved as he struggled to regain his breath before he turned and stomped away from everyone. I put my hand on my chest to try and calm my heart while Folio and Jolly checked on me, Nicholas rushing after Noah.

I turned to the crowd, looking over their shocked faces. "I'm so sorry, everyone."

"Whatever he did I'm sure he deserved it. I want to punch him too." A girl at the front said, causing others to agree with her.

I breathily laughed, my heart slowly calming down. I apologized again before making my way to a van to go back to the Airbnb. Nicholas and Noah had already head out in another van so it was just me, Folio, and Jolly. The ride was silent other than the soft music playing over the speakers. My leg anxiously bounced up and down as I chewed on my lip to try and suppress the tears that stung against my eyes, threatening to fall down my face. We got out of the van once we got back to the house and I rushed to the front door, a stray tear falling. I rushed inside to hide my face and began making my way down the hallway. Muffled voices came from Noah's room, anger evident in them.

"I'm not saying I wouldn't have done the same thing, because I was tempted to once I saw his fucking face, but you can't just go around punching people. No matter how much they deserve it. We're in the spotlight, especially you." Nicholas said.

"Fucker deserved it. How could he put his hands on someone like Maddie? She doesn't deserve that shit. He deserved a taste of his own medicine." Noah seethed out, the sound of pacing footsteps echoing on the wood floors.

I softly knocked on the door, causing them to stop talking. A few moments of silence followed before the door opened to reveal a red faced Noah and the usual calm face of Nicholas, other than the furrowed brows he was sporting.

"Maddie." Nicholas said, stepping forward to wrap his arms around me in a hug.

I hugged him back and sniffled, not realizing a few tears had fallen down my face. I instantly became embarrassed that I was crying in front of the guys and reached up to discreetly wipe them away. Nicholas pulled back from the hug and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"I am so sorry the dumbass decided to show his face there. There's no way he didn't know you were with us." He said, squeezing my shoulders. 

I gave him a soft smile. "Not your fault. I knew it was a possibility."

He shrugged. "Not my fault but I still feel bad. You know we got your back."

"Thank you. It really means a lot to me." I replied, reaching up to squeeze his hands.

He gave me a soft smile before walking out of Noah's room, leaving just the two of us behind. My eyes met the side of his face, his fists balled at his sides. I noticed blood on his knuckles and silently walked out of his room into mine to grab a first aid kid. I walked back in and softly shut the door behind me, causing Noah to snap his eyes towards me. Anger was still evident in his face but his features softened slightly once he saw the tears on mine.

"Sit." I said, motioning towards the bed.

He complied and sat down before I followed suit, sitting beside him. I gently took his hand into mine and inspected the damage he did. His knuckles were bloody and swollen from how hard he hit Gabriel. I sniffed and blinked back tears as I opened the kit, pulling out a disinfectant wipe.

"This might sting some." I said, voice wavering from emotions. I gently pat his knuckles, causing him to suck in air through his teeth at the stinging. "Sorry" I whispered, continuing the patting motion. I wiped up all the blood before putting ointment on them carefully with a cotton swab. 

My brows furrowed as a new wave of emotion came over me, my vision becoming blurry from the tears that pooled in my eyes. He brought his free hand up to cradle my face, causing me to bring my eyes up to meet his. I sniffed as I fought the tears that threatened to fall, causing his eyes to soften even further. 

"Maddie." He whispered. The gentle tone of his voice was enough to cause the flood gates to open and I dropped my head into my free hand, tears rolling down my face and into the sleeve of my hoodie.

He brought his arms up to wrap around me, pulling me onto his lap so he was holding me. My body shook with my crying as he soothed me, gently rocking me back and forth and cradling my head against his chest.

"I'm so sorry to cause such a problem at your show. I'm so sorry." I sobbed out, strong sniffles breaking up my words.

"No, Maddie, don't you dare apologize. He deserved more than what he got." He said against my hair, placing a kiss there.

I nodded against his chest as my crying slowed down, now replaced with stray tears and hiccups. Noah kept rocking us gently until my hiccups subsided, just sniffles left behind. He leaned his head back and lifted my chin so I would look at him. He brought his thumb up to wipe away the tears that were left, rubbing them off onto his hoodie.

"Never apologize for something that wasn't your fault. You never have to feel sorry with me." He whispered, hand still cradling my face.

I nodded as I looked into his eyes before he leaned down to place a kiss on my lips, causing all my worry and anxiety to leave and be replaced with content. He pulled away and searched my eyes, his own much softer than they were before. He kept our eye contact before bringing his lips back onto mine, rougher than before.

"I want to make you forget the night."

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfiction

[semperardens-juli]

知足常乐

"One who knows how to be content with what they have is always happy."

This Chinese proverb stuck with me more than the others during my high school Chinese Language class. There was even an essay i wrote on this proverb, which had gotten me to the top class.

When I was assigned an essay on this proverb, there were these nagging questions in my mind. Should I just be happy with what I have? If I do so, would it stop me from achieving more? Do I go for more or be content? At 14, I was torn.

It's been over a decade and here's my answer for that 14 year old girl.

Be content with what you have, but it doesn't mean that blessing won't come your way. It's about the attitude or keeping the good light inside you alive. Gratitude is about seeing with your heart and appreciating the things that are really important. Wanting is simply a well of insecurity that desires but is never satisfy. To conquer the feelings of desire, remember to simply be grateful and have hope about where Life leads.

Contentment doesn't mean be idle. It can also mean being happy doing what you are doing, don't do things with resentment. Often I would do my chores self-righteously alongside a tinge of hatred as well.

Be active while content, even in the face of things that scare you, especially while facing it. Always do what you feel is morally right. You can still be content but also show up for your responsibility in human improvement.

It's also more than a wishy washy fairytale rainbow positivity picture. Life is short. We're mortal beings briefly alive on this earth. The world is full of tragedies but it is also full of small beautiful opportunities of happiness --- and love, especially love. Those little things are worth being alive for.

A lot can happen unexpectedly. Life is full of surprises --- good and bad. You can lose things or people in a snap. What matters is how much you love them at that moment. Don't strangle them, but remember where love is.

Nothing is perfect. You don't look like a model. You don't have a perfect body. Who cares? You have the capacity to love. I'm not talking in a Sunday-school kid all shiny and positive and perfect. I'm talking about a true act of kindness, like ex-addicts turning over a new leaf helping the neighbourhood kid, not the kid who acts all kind because it was a popular thing to do or the politican who is nice to simply gain votes. Whatever it is, I promise in all that is what matters. Those are the things we need to open our eyes and heart to.

And remember, in Nicholas Sparks' A Walk To Remember, Landon told Jamie's dad: - I'm sorry she never got her miracle. - You were her miracle.

So, be grateful for life , because we are surrounded by blessings, and open your eyes and heart to what is truly important.

leave a little kindness

#juli-writes #academia #dark academia #light academia #writings #writing #writer #journal #diary #contentment #chinese proverb #gratitude #grateful #gratefulness

[tomwambsmilk]

brenna i'm sorry to tell you it was nicholas braun who said greg was 'on the side of morality in the show' and sparked all the recent discourse. https://theplaylist.net/succession-nicholas-braun-on-gregs-turn-to-the-dark-side-interview-20220617/

NAUR…….. this is why I don’t read actor interviews 😭😭😭😭😭😭

...... However. I have had an essay kicking around my drafts about the succ characters and how they approach morality for a while that interview + this discourse has reminded me it exists, so I'm gonna drop a little bit of it here. Because, while I do think "Greg is on the side of morality" is.... wrong, objectively speaking, it's very interesting to me that Nich Braun thinks that, and I wonder how much of this is "Nich Braun is kind of stupid" and how much of it is "he's speaking from the perspective of how Greg perceives himself". (If it is actually the second it is atrociously worded though... Please sir I am begging you to think before you speak.) But I'm going to assume more of the second just because if that's the case it reveals some really interesting things about how Greg understands morality and this is something I've been thinking about for a while.

TL:DR; Greg is NOT a moral centre and if Nich Braun actually genuinely thinks that he's insane. However, its very plausible to me that Greg thinks of himself as a moral centre, and if so the specific context Nich Braun is talking about here is incredibly revealing as to what Greg's moral decision-making framework looks like.

[Also re: the whole "Shiv can be a real bitch" thing... That line absolutely grates on my soul because it is a massive oversimplification. I do understand what he was trying to say having seen it in context though. Still an incredibly shitty word choice.]

Anyways. Before we dig into questions of "how moral are the characters" there's a much bigger looming question of "what is morality" and more specifically "what do the characters think it means to be a moral person" and "do they think morality is a useful decision-making framework". If I had to characterize Greg's approach to morality, I think I'd probably describe it as 'cosplaying morality'. I think he knows that he should be a good and moral person, in some sort of abstract sense, but he doesn't really know what that means, so he ends up with these broad-strokes statements like "I'm against racism" that are clearly pulled from very surface-level cultural discourse, and maybe whatever Ewan rants he's absorbed over the years. He also defines morality as things you shouldn't do, rather than things you should - don't be racist, don't lie if you're the news (which are much easier standards to fulfill than a moral standard that requires some sort of positive action). On the flipside, though, he struggles to apply any sort of objective moral standard to his actual day-to-day interactions with people. He doesn't really agonize over the moral quality of his decisions beyond the move to ATN. I do think he perceives himself as a moral actor, but in practice it's more hitting the talking points that he sees "good people" hitting.

I think he also has a really cartoonish image of what "bad people" are, which is part of why he jumps to the defence of Waystar in conversations with Ewan. Yeah a lot of that is very self-serving. But I think in his mind bad people are cartoonishly bad, and most of his day-to-day interactions with these people are.... not that, actually. When it's bad it's really bad, but there's also the fact that he spent about 8 months in Parks with Tom in Season 1 where nothing noteworthy enough to make it into an episode script happened, so I'd wager most of the day-to-day is probably... just a mundane corporate job to him. This might sound kind of crazy, but unfortunately I have actually seen this play out in real life with grown-ass adults, who get so stuck on "well x is a good/friendly/pleasant person most of the time, or to me personally, so no way they could be a bad person, and those bad things they did do were probably misunderstood, or maybe it was bad but they had good reasons, etc". That's a very convenient stance for Greg to take, but it's not beyond the bounds of reason in my mind that he actually believes it on some level.

And the specific context of this quote talking about Tom and Shiv tells us a few things. For one thing, he's defining being a moral actor in this specific situation as advocating for Tom and encouraging him to leave Shiv for the sake of his own personal well-being. Which is FASCINATING to me because (again assuming that he's speaking from a Greg headspace here) it indicates that for Greg being a moral actor is rooted a lot in the personal relationship. He's looking at everything that happened and going "well, whatever makes Tom happiest is probably morally good, and the right thing for me to do as his friend is to support that". Additionally, in his mind Tom's choice is justifiable because Shiv makes him miserable (and specifically because she makes him miserable by "being kind of a bitch" which... I do love Shiv and that's a massive oversimplification but its also not altogether inaccurate I guess). So there's also an element of comeuppance there in his worldview; a sense of "well, Shiv got what was coming to her". And finally, it indicates that for Greg loyalty isn't really a moral concept. There's no moral imperative in his mind for Tom to stay loyal to Shiv or to the Roy family as a whole, if doing so is detrimental to him personally.

So in the end it kind of circles back to the last two seasons of interviews where Nich's emphasized that Greg is doing what he does out of a sense of survival. I think there's an implication that he's turned survival into his moral framework. He's looking at everything going on with Tom and Shiv and saying "it's morally justifiable for Tom to do whatever he needs to in order to get into a better situation". Obviously, the massive problem with this worldview is that it's incredibly easy to abuse. And that's kind of what's happened with Greg - he went from being slimy in kind of a sympathetic way bc he was struggling to being slimy in a self-serving way incredibly quickly. And I think it also explains why his "principles" are almost cartoonishly broad - being "against racism" and "don't lie if you're the news" are unlikely to interfere with his ability to pursue what's best for him and the people he's close to. (I think part of the reason the move to ATN is so distressing for him is that it undermines his ability to say 'well I'm a good person because I don't do x' because now he is in fact involved in x'.)

It's also interesting that he doesn't extend this to Shiv - there's no sense of "well Shiv is entitled to do whatever she needs to in order to better her position". Maybe he doesn't perceive her actions as being to better her position, so it doesn't fall under that category. Or maybe for him a lot of it is rooted in that personal relationship he has with Tom - Tom is his friend and so Tom is the one he has a moral obligation towards, rather than Shiv. Or more likely - a combination of both, because its also very plausible to me that consciously or unconsciously Greg, who is so desperate for friendship and connection that he's spent almost a year putting up with Tom's abuse to get it, would make "I have some form of substantial connection to this person" a significant deciding factor in the extent of his moral obligation. Also a deeply problematic moral framework, because it obviously makes it morally acceptable to mistreat people you aren't close to. (Although at the same time I think most people do factor personal relationships into their moral decision-making in the sense that we feel that friends and family are owed more than strangers, but that's a separate topic.)

I have theories as to why Greg is like this, and the biggest one is that I think he was fairly neglected as a kid - maybe not physically, but Marianne doesn't seem like she was a super engaged parent, probably, and kids who are raised with excessively hands-off parents often don't have great moral frameworks, because a big part of learning to be a moral person is your parents implementing and enforcing rules and consequences that teach you how to be a moral person in your day-to-day actions, as well as explaining why certain things are right and wrong. I expect that's not something that Greg really had growing up, hence the broad cartoonish notions of morality he'd ended up with.

#sorry to answer this with essay you absolutely didn't ask for ming.... #I'm too obsessed with my own thoughts and opinions for my own good #I realize I might be giving nich braun too much benefit of the doubt here too #in assuming he intended this as being more from greg's perspective as opposed to an objective statement #but the concept of someone thinking greg is 'on the side of morality' is SO insane to me that I'm like.... he can't just straight-up #believe that. right? #but maybe he is just stupid or insane. idk #anyways I also have thoughts on the other five main characters and morality but that's for another post I think. I have some restraint #a bare minimum of restraint

[solomonish]

i definitely relate to what you said about being uninterested in childrens book when you were younger bc they were so easy! i read jaws in 5th grade but i don’t remember the other series i was reading back then. i read the divergent series, twilight, and the hunger games in 6th-7th grade right in the middle of all the hype! i remember kids wearing mockingbird pins to school, lol. i was obsessed with the infernal devices by cassandra clare in middle school and loved the historical fantasy aspect of it (the shadowhunters/city of bones movie was pretty lame and i grew out of the phase by the time the tv show came around). in 8th grade i finally raided my moms book shelf and her stephen king collection and read The Shining (still one of my favorites), which was my first experience reading like “adult” books instead of YA.

if you’ve already mentioned this i’m sorry for asking again, my memory is not great, but do you still find motivation to read now? i know my love of reading has ebbed and waned over the years unfortunately, but i’ve been getting back that spark lately!

- reading anon

omg no idea how i managed to give such a late response AGAIN i'm so sorry i have no excuse except chronic dumbbrain

honestly though? I didn't get into a whole lot of series as a kid. i read the first twilight book in 4th grade (it took me an entire 9 weeks to do it but I got a bunch of AR points for it - if you are unfamiliar with those I do not know how to explain it but will if u ask lol) and I read the hunger games books like.....LATE into their fame. I only got into the movie series because my older sister, who was in the target demographic for both of those at their height, loved them and when my mom took her to the movies she invited me and what, was I gonna say NO to being out at midnight and eating super buttery movie popcorn?? as I type this i am looking at the giant edward button on my bookshelf that I stole from the stuff my sister left when she moved. Twilight has a special place in my heart lol

But other than that and the children's series I mentioned before, I never really got into the big franchises. I never read H*rry P*tter and have only seen one full movie, never got into LoTR, uh.....whatever other ones, I haven't really read...and I mean this in the least hipster way possible lol. There's something about the Expectation to Enjoy and the Always Being Out Of The Zeitgeist So Why Even Try that just shuts down my motivation to get into them LOL.....so really only Twilight and Hunger Games were crazes I was part of and even then I was at an age where I liked them but didn't really care lol

and my mom really loves Stephen King too! I tried to read his books but honestly....I don't like them :/ I respect his achievements I guess but I cannot get interested in his stories. Idk if it's the way he writes or what but I tried getting into them when I needed challenging material...it didn't work! I also tried to read Nicholas Sparks, who was (maybe still is?) my sister's favorite author but GOD. I DO NOT LIKE HIS SHIT EITHER. And this isn't meanspirited at all, more power to their readers! I'm not one to get uppity about writing styles and fave authors, especially ones I haven't even read a full book from. But those are two authors that were always in my house that I never was able to get into

One author I was able to get into? SARAH DESSEN. Technically I've "aged out" of her books (although I'm of the opinion that you can read whatever you want, no shame...like come on bro we're all just trying to have a little fun) but I've always loved her works from the day I first read them. I remember my first book of hers I read! It was "just listen" and while it's not my favorite of hers, it holds a place in my heart just from being the first one I read. I picked it up off my sister's dresser (she's turning up in this ask a lot lol) and asked if I could read it and she just shrugged and didn't seem into it? But I read it and my eyes were WIDE OPEN to the world of YA romance. Oh god. I was in 6th grade and I was like "this is it. this is the pinnacle of literary achievement." I was in 6th grade, so about 12? I think? and now 10 years later I still check to see if she's got anything new out when I'm at Barnes and Noble. I think there are 2-3 of her books I haven't read and a novella. God. I love her books so much, shamelessly. (I have her most recent book, "The Rest of the Story," in my nightstand but I haven't read it yet - I'm getting there!!) I have 7 of her books stacked up on my bookshelf and I want to read them all eventually. My favorite is probably Saint Anything - idk why, it just. It hit me. That one got me. That one and Lock and Key.

LAST ASK YOU ASKED ME WHAT BOOK I WISH I COULD REREAD FOR THE FIRST TIME? Lock and Key and The Truth About Forever by Sarah Dessen. I felt like such a badass having those thick ass books on my desk in 6th grade, UGH. I can't believe I forgot that feeling. But i remember now babyyyyy

All this to say I actually...........still don't like most adult writing LOL. I have TRIED to get into contemporary adult writing but most of the time it does NOT scrath that itch. I think I have a few books that would fall under that category that I still need to read and i'm SO OPEN to this changing about me, but I'm honestly still in my little YA corner. The problem with that, though, is that it's definitely not as enjoyable to read, or not in the same way, because I have grown up. And that's not to fault the books at all, not their fault the passage of time exists, but when I was younger I was still looking forward to high school. I'm fortunate where my high school experience wasn't anything I'm particularly jaded by, but I'm a big girl now. The dramatics of these fake teen girls definitely translate to me as, well...dramatic more than anything. Again, that's not BAD and I'm not bashing YA! It's just weird to read these books from the pov that "this is definitely a fiction story (in my lifetime)" as opposed to the 6th grade view of "this is a range of emotions I could technically feel in 3 years." Not that I didn't know it was fiction back then, but come on, who didn't romanticize high school a little bit before they got there? I definitely did.

I am...currently trying to get my bookworm status back, actually! I've gotta be honest, once I hit high school I was so tired of reading textbooks and screens that I stopped reading as much as I used to and it stayed pretty stagnant until my senior year. I took a class that was called "fact and fiction" but it was basically like a book club led by the two best teachers in school. Most of the time we'd read classics as a class, but sometimes they'd have us break off and do our own thing like "read a book that's on the NYT Bestseller's list this month" or "read a book that's been banned" or "read and american classic" - this class is how I found out that The Jungle is actually pretty solid in entertainment value if not a bit hard to get through language wise, Slaughterhouse Five is what I say my favorite book is when i want to sound smart and it is SO GOOD (and I could go on about how it's totally a representation of the author's PTSD but that's a story for a different day), and i absolutely DESPISE The Turn of the Screw. Cool concept, absolute HELL to get through. So that class got me reading again, but then I went to college and then covid hit and I've had some Life Happening To Me and I kinda fell out of the practice again. I'm on book 3 of this year - 12 year old me would be horrified, but 20 year old me is bouncing in her seat - and unfortunately my first two attemtps were...not that great?

The first book I read was called The Warlow Experiment by Alix Nathan and it was one of THE WORST books I've ever read. I thought it'd be some thrilling kind of psychological-experiment-gone-wrong story, but the author somehow took what sounds like it could be thrilling fiction and made it the most BORING story ever. (SPOILERS if u care) It took forever for me to feel like there was ever anything at stake - John Warlow is getting restless? Well, the experiment ends in seven years. Powyss has to prove the worth of his experiment? We won't know if he does that for seven years. Powyss starts an affair with Warlow's wife? Man, too bad we have to wait SEVEN YEARS FOR THE CONFLICT TO HAPPEN. Every character except for Hannah (Warlow's wife) was just like the Worst Possible Version of themselves. You know how a farce is a play where characters are usually one-dimensional with their worst trait exaggerated? THAT'S WHAT THIS FELT LIKE. A LITERAL FARCE. It took me two months to get through that book and I want to burn it. It was so, so awful and burned me out.

Recently I started Tell Me Three Things but Julie Buxbaum, and it was sweet! It was easy to read and wasn't anything spectacularly unique, but it was good and wasn't a chore to get through. I laughed at one (1) thing at the end, and even if it was a bit cheesy, I loved the relationships Jessie had with her friends and stepbrother. Those felt really real, even if they were a bit more wholesome than some relationships tend to be. However, this one has the misfortune of being the first YA book I've read since exiting the YA demographic, so the whole time I read it, I was thinking "wow i should've read this book when I got it. It would've been so much better." Not the fault of the book/author of course, and it was still good. Just nothing I'd report home to.

BUT. NOW I'M ON BOOK THREE. I JUST STARTED IT AND I ALREADY LOVE IT. It's called The House in the Cerulean Sea bu TJ Klune and it's got my attention. I used to think I didn't like fantasy, but this one might change my mind. One of the reviews on the book calls it a mashup of 1984 and The Umbrella Academy and even though I only know summaries of those things (I skipped junior/senior english to take college english so there's a lot fo required reading i was actually not required to do. The Great Gatsby? Still have no idea what a Gatsby is (just kidding i know it's the guy)), I AGREE. I'm only 48 pages in out of 398 but WHOO. I love this author's writing style, it reminds me a lot of what I want to embody when I'm not trying to be super serious (keyword trying, not sure if I have ever actually succeeded in either of these lol), I love that the main character is Just Some Guy, i love the way he describes his cat - I'll send a pic in one sec!

The book is so charming and has such personality and such a good premise that I'm so excited to continue reading it for real. Look at that!!! UGH IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE HOW THIS BOOK MAKES ME FEEL BUT THIS GUY GETS IT! Also I hear....this book may be gay? 👀 love me some representation (if it's there - if any u spoil this for me i will commit a crime) Also this book is classified as "adult young adult" and idk for sure what that is but it is RIGHT up my alley. More of this please.

So I'm still in a writing slump that has lasted...almost 8 years with like. One bout of clarity in the middle lol. I've always had a passion for the books I've read and the idea of books, but reading them had become a chore that I could never get to on my list. I'm hoping this book turns that around though - I want that feeling of just needing to devour a book in one sitting again.

#long post #and i mean LOOOOOOONG #you had me rambling lol!! #reading anon #asked and answered #i am actually loving these asks. it's like a little book club #all of you are so free to tell me about your favorite books and reading experiences at any point in ur lives #i'm only familiar with american classics but tell me about what you consider classics too!! #or literally anything else. your fave series as a kid. your reading slumps. anything

[nsfwhiphop]

Incoming Text for Jessica Alba:

Hey, Jessica!

I know you're hurt, I broke your heart because I didn't add you to the Taylor Swift list of fifteen women who will own the 5% share in the company, I'm so sorry because I know you lose sleep thinking about how you have been rejected from this small group of women.

But you need to realize that you have a $200million net-worth and it's not fair to give you any wealth right now.

Zoe Saldana is poor. $60 million net-worth.

Rosario Dawson is poor too. $8 million net-worth.

Margot Robbie is poor too. $60 million net-worth.

Mila Kunis is poor too. $75 million net-worth.

Kristen Bell is poor too. $40 million net-worth.

Also, I'm in love with Taylor Swift, she doesn't count because she's my favorite girl, so she gets to do whatever she wants, I spoil her.

I hope Katy Perry is not hearing this, or is she? I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

Katy Perry I'm so sorry, but your rival Taylor Swift is so hot, I can't help it, okay? Taylor does something to me, her songs are so dope.

Taylor Swift is like Elvis.

Katy Perry is like The Beatles.

I love their music, not gonna lie but I'm leaning towards Taylor Swift because I want to spoil her, she is such a good girl.

Katy Perry don't cry, I will find a way to share something with you in the future, I love your songs too, don't worry.

(I was talking to Jessica Alba and I suddenly found myself in a group chat, making amends, talking about Katy & Taylor rivalry.)

Listen, Jessica Alba, I know you're going through that Notebook phase, you don't know what you want, maybe Noah or maybe that other guy, you are having a lot of anxiety like Allie in the Notebook and I don't know what to tell you, except, I'm not in love with you, there I said it.

Fictional Noah be like: "Hey, Jessica, your name is not Allie, it's Jessica, okay? I have to give you a reality check, this is not the Notebook movie, this is real life and I'm not Noah, I'm Angelo, I love Tracey. I hope I don't hurt your feelings because you are a great mother and a great wife to Cash Warren, so please switch off from that Notebook vibes you got going on, it's better to keep in touch with reality. I'm not Noah, I swear, I'm not Noah and you're not Allie."

Why don't you call Ryan Gosling, I'm sure he will help you get some reality check, ask him, he will confirm, he will tell you that Noah & Allie is a fiction, the Notebook it's not reality.

Ryan Gosling calling Nicholas Sparks:

Ryan: "Hey, Nicholas, did you know there was such a thing as the Notebook phase?"

Nicholas asks: "What is the Notebook phase?"

Ryan replies: "Glad you asked, it's the phase where a married woman sees another potential lover and starts catching that Notebook vibe just like Allie in the movie, she was confused and she didn't know what to do, should she choose Noah or that other lover, that is what we call the Notebook phase, it's a thing, they should add this to the Oxford dictonary or something, the world of Psychology will use the Notebook phase to explain what happens to choosy women."

Here is another version of this dialogue:

Ryan: "Hey, Nicholas, have you ever heard of the Notebook phase?" Nicholas: "The Notebook phase? What's that?" Ryan: "Well, it's like this: imagine a married woman finds herself drawn to someone else, feeling torn like Allie in the movie. She's caught between her current partner and this new potential love interest. That confusion, that indecision—that's the Notebook phase. It's a real thing, you know? They should include it in the Oxford Dictionary or something. Psychologists could use it to explain the dilemma faced by women in such situations."

The end of the dialogue

Why don't you hangout with Ryan Gosling and Eva Mendes, they will help you get over the fictional Noah.

Okay, this chat was fun.

Love you, Jessica! Have fun, big hug for you!

P.S:

I want to give you this reminder:

Don't overthink stuff:

- I never said you were not beautiful

I never said your were not hot.

I never said you're not good enough.

I never said you are evil.

I never said you're a gold digger.

I never said you're a man eater.

I never said anything to hurt your feelings, okay? Relax.

All I said is I'm taken, I have Tracey in my life, I'm loyal, it's in my nature, I think you can respect that, because I respect your relationship with Cash Warren, I never bothered you, I always respected your marriage, and I want to ask you to do the same for me.

If you were not married, I would have chased you a long time ago, but you are happily married, I never chase married women, it's not what I'm into, homie don't play that, it's just wrong to break-up a happy home.

That's all I had to say! I wish you well, hope you have a happy life.

Take care Jessica.

[annarellix]

BIG LITTLE SPELLS by Hazel Beck (Witchlore, #2) - EXCERPT

A smart, modern Rom-Com about a witch banished from her coven who seeks help from the only person who can prove she’s not a threat to witchkind—her annoyingly immortal childhood crush.

Rebekah Wilde was eighteen when she left St. Cyprian, officially stripped of her magic and banished from her home. Ten years later she’s forced to return to face the Joywood Coven, who preside over not just her hometown, but the whole magical world.

The Joywood are determined to prove Rebekah is a danger to witchkind, and she faces a death sentence if she can’t prove otherwise. Rebekah must seek help from the only one who knows how to stop the Joywood—the ruthless immortal Nicholas Frost. Years ago, he was her secret tutor in magic, and her secret, impossible crush. But the icy and frustratingly handsome immortal is as remote and arrogant as ever, and if he feels anything for Rebekah—or witchkind—it’s impossible to tell.

Now, she’s no longer a child…and this time what sparks between Nicholas and Rebekah is more than just magic…

Buy Links:

BookShop.org Harlequin Barnes & Noble Books A Million Amazon

ISBN: 9781525804724 Publication Date: August 29, 2023 Publisher: Graydon House

The Author:

HAZEL BECK is the magical partnership of a river witch and an earth witch. Together, they have collected two husbands, three familiars, two children, five degrees, and written around 200 books. As one, their books will delight with breathtaking magic, emotional romance, and stories of witches you won’t soon forget. Find them at www.Hazel-Beck.com.

Social Links: Author Website: https://hazel-beck.com/ Facebook: Hazel Beck Instagram: @hazelbeckauthor Goodreads: Hazel Beck

EXCERPT

Chapter One

You don’t have to be an exiled witch under threat of the death penalty should you cast the faintest little spell to feel the magic in Sedona, Arizona.

But it doesn’t hurt.

The full moon is shining, high and bright, making the red rocks glow outside my little bungalow. The air is soft and dry instead of swollen with Missouri’s trademark humidity, which I’m not sorry to leave behind.

If it was up to me, I would never have gone back to Mis­souri at all.

Because one thing exile has taught me is that magic is as much a habit as anything else. Unnecessary at best. Danger­ous at worst. An addiction, in other words.

These days I am all about recovery.

Except for tonight. Tonight, admittedly, has been a bit of a relapse.

I breathe out and try to blow away the past while I do.

I’m standing out in my little yard, my head tipped toward the Arizona sky and my shoes kicked off so I can feel the earth and as many vortexes as possible. Because I’m a hippie, I tell myself. Just a run-of-the-mill Sedona hippie. Hair down, feet bare, crystals hanging all around like every other New Ager around here.

Not magic, just vibes.

But before I manage to fully ground myself here, I feel something grab me, like a huge, magical hook around the center of me—but inside out. It’s dark. Hard. Kind of slimy, really—and it makes my stomach heave.

This *particular *magical tug is a summons, yanking me out of the life I fought so hard to build, all on my own. Not for the first time.

Not even for the first time tonight.

Though this summons is harsher than the one before. Meaner.

I know instantly it’s not him.

Because he *yanked me back to St. Cyprian too, but it didn’t hurt when he did it. It’s not supposed to hurt at all, and he made it feel almost *good—

But I stop thinking about the maddeningly beautiful, im­possible immortal witch who ruined my life once already, and start worrying about me.

There’s only one reason for me to be dragged back home against my will. And it’s been a long night already. My sister, Emerson, who I haven’t seen in person in a decade, formed her very own coven made up of our closest friends and one ob­noxious immortal. Then, together, we all fought off a major, magic-induced flood that would have submerged the town of St. Cyprian and most of Missouri.

The final jerk makes Sedona disappear into a blur of red, then there’s a *whooshing *sensation while whispered words fill the air around me.

Rebekah Wilde, come before us, the voices command me.

And I’m back.

Right where I don’t want to be.

I’m standing outside a farmhouse across the river from my hometown. And instead of the terrifying wave of water and my sister ready to dive into the middle of it all like the first time I showed up here tonight, the river has settled down. The fight is over.

Or…maybe it’s only just begun.

Because a quick glance around shows me that Emerson is standing outside in the cool April night, looking like the fierce Warrior she is, her eyes blazing gold with all her newly redis­covered power. Jacob North, our old friend and a Healer—and, I think, my sister’s new love—stands with her and doesn’t look any worse for the intense healing he did when we came much too close to losing Emerson earlier.

Behind them is Zander Rivers, my cousin, looking un­characteristically grim for a guy who used to make the role he was born into—a Guardian—seem a lot more fun than the name suggests. Next to him is Georgie Pendell, Emerson’s best friend, whose entire family has been witch Historians—and actual historians who run the town’s local-interest museum—as long as anyone can remember. And last but never least, El­lowyn Good. *My *best friend. And also the Summoner who helped Emerson contact me once Emerson remembered she was a witch, despite the Joywood spell that took those magic memories away from her for ten whole years.

Across from them stand all the members of the Joywood, the ruling coven based here in my hometown of St. Cyprian, MO. The authoritarian, bullying, small-minded coven that cheated me out of the life I was supposed to have.

Seven dictatorial witches I had no intention of laying eyes on again.

I feel a rush of a very old, too-dark fury inside me—but stop myself. It’s practically a reflex at this point. I don’t do outsize emotion or high drama anymore. I don’t do *dark. *That would lead directly to my death, and I’ve always been pretty clear about wanting to stay alive.

If I hadn’t wanted to *live—my *life on *my *terms—I would have stayed here. I would have let these petty Joywood tyrants wipe my mind the way they wiped my sister’s, taking away any hint of ever knowing magic.

I tell myself that I’ve forgiven them. I chant it inside me, *not *like one of the spells forbidden to me, but like a mantra. They were only doing their jobs, following their laws, as stu­pid as those laws might be. I forgive them because forgive­ness is mine to give. I don’t need to carry the bitter taste of St. Cyprian and its ruling coven with me. I chose to leave all of this behind. I still choose it.

Something—not quite a shadow—moves in my peripheral vision, and I see *him *too. Nicholas Frost, the one and only immortal witch. Some people call him a traitor.

I call him all kinds of things and unlike most, have done it to his face. But now is not the time to air *all *my oldest grudges.

His gaze from halfway across a field makes everything in­side me…change. Not so much that dangerous black fury any longer. This is something else. A different kind of heat.

I don’t want to acknowledge it. Or him. Especially not with this audience.

Even if, for a moment, it feels as if the two of us are all alone here.

I have to remind myself that we’re not.

I forgive you, I think at him, in my smuggest internal voice. The best of a decade of recovery programs right there. And even though I can’t—won’t—use a witch’s usual telepathic version of conversation, I suspect he hears me anyway. Be­cause his dark blue eyes gleam.

From all the way across the tall grass.

“Rebekah Wilde,” booms a voice I recognize entirely too well, even though I haven’t heard it in a decade. Carol Simon, the Joywood coven’s Warrior and therefore the leader of…ev­erything involving witches the world over.

I force myself to look at her, hopefully without my feelings all over my face, and decide that teenage me was right. Her frizzy hair really is unforgivable.

“You have been summoned here, to the site of your infrac­tion, to answer for your offense,” she intones.

I finally take note of the fact that she and her cronies hauled me into this field, but not into the group of my friends and family who also *infracted *tonight. I’m standing halfway be­tween them and the Joywood. As tempting as it is to think that’s just carelessness, I know better.

They don’t do careless.

I slouch where I stand, because even being across the river from my hometown makes me want to behave like the sulky teenager I was when I lived here. That’s what Carol and her buddies likely see anyway, so why not live down to their worst expectations? I’ve always been excellent at that.

I lock eyes with Felicia Ipswitch, the Joywood’s Diviner and my personal nemesis, and smirk a little. And just like that, it might as well be tenth grade when Felicia was the high school principal and I was a problem. A problem she thought she could solve with draconian detentions and the kind of pun­ishments that would send human teachers to jail—but witch students heal up better.

Turns out I’m not over high school, which doesn’t really do a lot for the sullen *peace and love *vibe I’m trying to exude here.

I look away from that evil old hag to find Emerson look­ing at me like I’m an answer. That’s not unusual. My sister always thinks there is one. And better yet, that she can find it and implement it.

I know better, because I made my own way out in the world, relying on nothing and no one but me. I learned the hard way that life and the world often have no answers, no neat little bows. For anyone, witch or human.

I tell myself that it gives me great internal peace to accept this knowledge, and maybe it will, someday. I grit my teeth and think peace, please.

Especially when Carol starts to speak again. Peace, love, light, I chant inside me. No spellwork here. No witchcraft. Just words of power that anyone could use while anointing themselves in essential oils and rearranging their houses for better feng shui.

“I know you must think you did something big here to­night,” Carol is saying, as if she’s never heard anything dumber in her life. Her voice is so persuasive that I have to pinch myself to remember that no, we weren’t giggling over a Ouija board, pretending we weren’t pushing it while we clearly were. We actually fused together the way all the books say true covens should, fought some gnarly dark magic, and won. *Almost *at the expense of my sister’s life.

“But I’m afraid all you really did, Emerson and Rebekah, is break the terms set down before you when you failed your pubertatum.” She glances around. “And the rest of you broke *several *laws aiding them.”

The word *pubertatum *has not gotten any less obnoxious in the ten years I haven’t heard it spoken aloud. It’s an ugly Latin word for a coming-of-age ceremony where witches in their eighteenth year are required to demonstrate their pow­ers so they might take their places in witch society. Pass the test and you answer a few questions to be herded into one of the seven witchkind designations. Warrior, Guardian, Sum­moner, Healer, Historian, Praeceptor, or Diviner.

Fail the test, like Emerson and I did, and you get to be a zombie or an outcast.

“I have power, Carol. You can’t deny that,” Emerson says, with her usual bouncy forthrightness, like she’s flabbergasted at the possibility that Carol would bother *trying *to deny such a thing. When it’s so obvious.

I really have missed my sister.

“You told me I had none.” Emerson points to me now. “You told *us *we have no power at all. You were wrong. And then, all this power inside me you said I didn’t have fought off *your *obliviscor.”

I expect rage. Carol has never been one for being told she’s wrong. Her mind wipe spell wasn’t supposed to have failed. But Carol surprises me.

She titters, and her cronies all laugh along with her. I re­mind myself that it’s *supposed *to make me feel wrong and stu­pid and vaguely humiliated. That’s what they do. Better to rule us by making us hate ourselves.

“And you’ve turned a simple testing error into some…ne­farious plot? I do worry, Emerson, that fighting off the obli­viscor addled your senses.”

“We just saved St. Cyprian and possibly all of witchkind, Carol,” my sister says, and not angrily. Just like she’s reciting facts, inviting Carol to come aboard. She even smiles. “You’re welcome.”

And I know hate is for the weak. Forgiveness is power. Blah, blah, blah.

But Carol Simon makes the case for blood feuds, forever. Especially when she rolls her eyes.

“We saved witchkind with no help from you,” Emerson continues, as if she doesn’t see any eye-rolling. Because she won’t give up. Emerson never, *ever *gives up.

Even when she should.

“As a concerned, dedicated St. Cyprian citizen who also happens to be chamber of commerce president, I have to won­der,” Emerson tells Carol. But she also casts an eye over the rest of them, these fixtures of St. Cyprian and my witchy past that I did not miss at all. Like Maeve Mather, the Joywood’s Summoner, who used to go out of her way to be mean to my grandmother. Just because she could. “Why, I’m asking my­self, did the ruling body of all witchkind not only turn a blind eye to the obvious imbalance in our power source that’s been making the rivers rise so dangerously, but also fail to help us fix it? Why did *we *have to stop it?”

“I assume because you wanted attention,” Felicia says. It is a familiar sentence, meant to be pure condemnation. She used to use it all the time as a precursor to her nasty little punish­ments. My gaze moves across the dark field to find Ellowyn’s, and I can tell from my best friend’s expression that she’s re­membering the same thing I am.

All of high school, basically. When Principal Ipswitch dedi­cated herself to what she called our reprehensible, attention-seeking behavior.

What amazes me is how little I’ve thought about high school since leaving Missouri. Deliberately. And tonight, it’s like I never left.

“I saw the darkness at the heart of the confluence myself,” Emerson says with a great calm I certainly don’t feel. Espe­cially since I saw it too. That terrible, encroaching dark, eat­ing the world whole. It had hunkered there where the three rivers meet, waiting malevolently. And then, tonight, it ex­ploded. Emerson, with our help, destroyed it. My heart starts kicking at me again, a riot of panic, like it’s still happening.

“Are you accusing us of something?” Carol asks, and she’s scarily good at this. She sounds on the verge of laughter, yet somehow almost hurt. As if she cares deeply what Emerson thinks of her. Of them.

I worry this will work on my sister. Because the truth is, Emerson has no power here. She’s too honest, and this is pol­itics. Power. It’s ego and control. Emerson is a lot of things I roll my eyes at all the time, but she’s never been ruled by ego or greed.

Not like these witches.

“I’m pointing out facts,” Emerson says, sounding patient now. My sister has never met a windmill she didn’t try to charge head-on. “And the facts are, we saved St. Cyprian. You could have helped us, Carol. But you didn’t.”

“Oh, Emerson.” Carol sounds sad. Legitimately sad, which would require emotions on her part. And I’m pretty sure ve­lociraptors don’t have emotions. “Why would we *deliberately *choose not to help save the place where we live? How does that make sense?”

Emerson blinks. “You tell me.”

I want to give a short TED talk on gaslighting and master manipulators, but this is *not *the time. It’s still not clear whether this is an execution or not. Carol did mention infractions of the pubertatum rules, and last I heard, me using magic the way I did tonight is a capital offense. Emerson wasn’t supposed to be *able *to do it. I claimed I *could *do it, but was exiled be­cause they said I had no real power—only the shameful, un­safe urge to use borrowed force. Either way, using witchcraft as an exile is about as forbidden as you can get.

I can always be counted on to rebel when it will do me the most harm.

There’s a part of me that wants to turn to Nicholas Frost, the only other being here who isn’t standing with a group. He’s the one who came up with the goddamned pubertatum back when the earth was young, or so they taught us in school. He is considered the first Praeceptor—the teacher of all teachers, but not in a safe little classroom way. Praeceptors in his day taught armies of witches, then wielded them.

But I know better than to look to him for help.

Looking at him at all is fraught enough when you were once a teenage girl with a teenage girl’s unwieldy crush. Those things are hard to vanquish.

“We saved St. Cyprian,” Emerson says again, as if saying it enough will get through to Carol when as far as I know, *nothing *has ever gotten through to Carol.

“Maybe you did save the town,” Felicia says, with her little sniff of disdain that I remember all too well. “But if you did, it was for your own gain and nothing more.”

I want to say that at least that’s better than doing it for at­tention, but I don’t, because I’m evolved as fuck.

My sister’s eyes narrow. And here’s the thing that most people don’t know about Emerson Wilde. She expends a lot of energy trying to convince the people around her to see the error of their ways. She embodies the notion that if you lead a horse to water in the right way, it really will drink.

But when she’s done, she’s done.

As her little sister, I know this better than anyone. So, I step in to stop the impending storm. “This seems straightforward to me,” I say, doing my best to sound as if all this carrying on is a waste of energy, and I low-key resent it. And as if I’m some kind of authority here. “Emerson has some magic. Let her take the test again.”

Excerpted from Big Little Spells by Hazel Beck. Copyright © 2023 by Megan Crane and Nicole Helm. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

#blogtour #rom-com #paranormal #witches #Graydon House #Netgalley

[hampirtengahmalam]

Favourite Book

Choosing a favourite book is always a difficult task. All I need to do is cast an eye over my bookshelf and there are loads of potential options.

I mostly forgot about books i’ve read before, so it’s really hard to mention one. So if you’re looking for an answer, sorry i don’t have it. However, I do have books that I like such as Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Dear John from Nicholas Sparks, Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami, and so on. See? I told you it's hard to pick one.

When I was in high school, I bought one book from Indonesian author which was one of most influential youth in Indonesia at that time. Dream Catcher by Alanda Kariza. I can say her book changed my perspective about being young and the ability to achieve my dream. The book taught me how important to build network and yourself. The book has successfully made me who I am today - ambitious-opportunist in a good way, of course.

I would recommend the book for every young people out there who search their identity and build themselves.

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Day 13 | Wed, 9 August '23 / 10.45pm

[jodellejournals]

throwback thursday: a letter for my 22nd birthday | written on march 7, 2018

many of you do not know, but i keep letters and notes given to me since i was around ten. i consider them as my treasures regardless if they were written in a simple white bond paper, colored ones, stationaries with glitters and stickers, or scented (which is my favorite!). i reread them gently with utmost care, on random times, since they have wilted like flowers and faded into a vintage-brown shade on their edges. suddenly, i am transported to a different time and age.

below was the very first letter i have written to myself and it was for my 22nd birthday. the early twenties are indeed years of hustling and figuring out who you want to be so i decided to acknowledge my struggles and wins and apologize for the times i felt like i wasn’t enough…

to this little dreamer with big dreams and burning passion in her heart, happy birthday! the last two decades have been simultaneously tough and magical but it only ignited a fire in your soul.

on some days, you did not see a rainbow but you have learned how to dance in the storm until it was over. on some nights, you felt like glass breaking into a million pieces, but what matters most is that you chose to rise together with the sun in the morning.

some friends became strangers so hold on to those who are still there even if you are not lovable; but little girl, your family will always be there even if the world turns its back against you so continue to keep them in your heart.

you realized that life was more than just getting good grades or wearing cool roller-skates that everyone else was wearing. it was more than having long and silky hair in high school or being noticed at a millisecond by your crush. it was more than going to your dream university and earning a degree, a 9-5 desk job, establishing networks, or titles. none of these has defined or will ever define you because only you, can. please remember that.

your favorite ice cream flavor will not always be mango when you were a careless kid with pigtails running back and forth at the school ramps at eight or strawberry when you were a shy and hopeless romantic teenager rereading novels written by nicholas sparks at sixteen --- but avocado. maybe it will still change in the years to come and that is okay. it is okay to change as long as it encourages your growth.

i am sorry for the times i have forgotten to take care of you or loved you any less than what you deserve. now, i am busy showering you with love and appreciation on a daily basis and caring less of what people think.

i am so proud of you — for keeping the faith and choosing to keep moving forward until you see the light at the end of the tunnel. hold on to that faith, as tight as you can, just like how you held on to that rope back in grade-school, on your sports fest playing tug of war. your battles only made you stronger and your chaos only made you wiser.

every time i see this photograph of yours, a bit grainy and faded through the passing of years gone by, i remember being at the tender age of five, full of dreams, hope, and wonder. a child-like innocence that made me see the world in rose-tainted glasses; but even if you remove those glasses and started seeing the thorns, i hope that you will never lose that sparkle in your eyes and also the warmth in your smile, no matter how old you age.

sincerely,

your newly turned 22-year-old self today

[addythelarrie]

Once In A Lifetime

Intro // Part 60

"Okay." Harry says, stepping into their living room and plopping down on the couch next to Niall. His head is feeling a little better after he took an ibuprofen before taking his shower. "Let's have this chat, I do believe a certain Mr. Nicholas Sparks is waiting for me in my room." He adds, wiggling his eyebrows and causing his friends to giggle.

"You and your stupid books." Niall pipes up, rolling his eyes and slightly shaking his head.

"Shush." Harry silences the Irishman. "How dare you speak about the love of my life like that?" He adds, hand over his heart as he feigns hurt.

"Really." Niall replies, raising an eyebrow. "How does Louis feel knowing you love a book more than him?"

"We don't love each other." Harry is quick to reply, and looks between his two friends, only to be met with some curious stares. "I mean, it's a bit soon for that, don't you think?"

"You've been dating for what? Six months now?" Niall chimes up from right next to him. "I think that's long enough to know if-"

"I've only officially met him two weeks ago." Harry cuts him off. "Besides, we're not here to talk about that. Right Em?" He asks, looking over to where Em is laying stretched out on the couch across from them.

"Right." Em says and sits up straight. "What the fuck was last night?" They ask immediately, eyes moving between the two men staring at them.

"I'm sorry." Harry replies. His face resembling that of a cute puppy.

"No, no." Em says, eyebrows slightly raised. "No puppy faces. What was that? I've never been more embarrassed about something in my life!" They exclaim.

"I'm sor-" Harry tries again, but gets cut off.

"No! It's not you!" Em exclaims, and points at Niall. "You. What were you thinking when you made yourself comfortable on Charles' lap?"

"I wasn't thi-"

"Yeah. You weren't thinking. That's right! Why would you do that to me?"

"I'm so-" Niall starts. His eyes wide when Em cuts him off again.  He's unable to think back to a time when he's ever seen his friend this angry. It's never happened before, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little scared right now.

"I finally meet someone like me. That's happy with just cuddling, because like me, they're not looking for anything more." Em says. "And I finally convinced him to let me introduce him to my best friends and you decide to just embarrass me like that? Why would you do that?" Em says, looking at Niall and close to tears.

It's quiet for a few moments before Niall finally speaks up. "I really am sorry Em." He says, looking down at his hands in his lap. "Shawn and I have been seeing each other for a few months and stuff happened that caused me to jump to conclusions, and I feel so incredibly ashamed for hating you and you didn't even know why."

"You hated me?"

"Well, yes. I thought you were sleeping with my man." Niall replies like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Sleeping with your ma-" Em exclaims exasperatedly, cutting herself off. "What part of me being a raging asexual do you not understand?"

"I-" Niall shakes his head. "I wasn't thinking about that. I'm sorry." He says before finally looking up. "Please forgive me?" He asks, jutting out his bottom lip.

"Of course I forgive you." Em replies. "You're one of my best friends Ni. You're an idiot, but I still love you." They say, opening their arms for a hug and giggling when Niall gets up and tackles them into the couch with a bone crushing hug.

"I'm sorry." He says again when he gets up, holding out a hand to help his friend back up as well.

"It's fine. We're fine." Em assures. "Although." They say, pointer finger in the air. "You're gonna chave to rename your dildo."

"Wha-"

"Yeah. I don't feel comfortable with you calling it Charles anymore."

"It's always been Charles." Niall protests .

"It can't be anymore Ni."

"What do you want me to call it then?"

"Anything but my boyfriend's name." Em replies. "Call it Shawn junior."

"No!" Niall exclaims. "I'm not going to insult the real Shawn junior like that. The real one is much bigger." He adds, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

"Oh my God, I did not meet to know that."

"I-"

"Just call it Ben or Sam or..." Em pauses for a second. "Just anything but Charles, please." They almost beg.

"Fine." Niall huffs.

"Thank you."

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#larry smau #larry stylinson #once in a lifetime #smau #addythelarrie #louis and harry

[rogersevans]

Prom Dates & Broken Hearts

Summary: You're in love with your best friend, he’s in love with someone else. Who knew prom would be so eventful?

18+ Content Below, Minors DNI

authors note: so I saw a tiktok of chris during an interview on ‘the talk’ and he asked about he was dumped at prom and it gave me the idea for this story. 

masterlist

You wanted to go with him, you wanted him to ask you. But as you sat on the bleachers you watched your hope fizzle away, the scene playing out in front of you like it was written in some damn Nicholas Sparks novel. 

It was the last game of the season, the team was winning by a long shot when Chris walked up to the girl he’d been hopelessly in love with since the 3rd Grade and asked her out. His helmet in one hand and his heart in the other. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. Nothing could pry your eyes away, not even the sound of your own heart shattering. 

You watched as she flung her arms around his neck, he lifted her off the ground, dropping his helmet in the process. Her cheer squad gasping and gossiping excitedly behind her back. 

The feeling of Scott ushering you out of your seat had you coming back to reality. He was one step away from throwing you over his shoulder and leaving with you. He didn’t want you to see this, he knew it was coming, Chris had told him. Scott wanted to tell you, warn you, but every time he was about to he chickened out. 

Scott was the only person who knew of your love for the older Evans. He was the only one you trusted with the sacred information, even if you did tell him on accident when you were piss drunk at the annual Evans Summer BBQ. 

You didn’t have to tell him, he already knew. Of course he knew, everyone did, they could see it. The way your eyes would light up when Chris was in the room, how he was the only one that could make you do that embarrassing snort/laugh. He could talk you into anything, like the time he convinced you to sneak out in the dead of night and go to a house party that was being hosted by the captain of the football team. 

You were in love with your best friend and there was nothing you could do about it because he was in love with someone else. 

“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you. Warned you or something. But I couldn’t,” Scott spoke in a panicked tone, still trying to usher you out of your seat, but it was like you were stuck there, like a crushing weight rested heavily on your shoulders, keeping you there. “Let’s go, please.” He begged as he stood and taking your hand, tugging you up with him and dragging you down the bleachers and towards your car. 

“It’s fine.” You finally said, the fakest smile plastered across your face. “Why wouldn’t it be fine?” You now frowned at Scott’s concerned expression. 

It wasn’t fine. It was far from fine. You were utterly heartbroken.

“Because you...” He trailed off, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. 

“Saw my best friend ask out the girl of his dreams? And she said yes? In front of the whole school?” Your tone now all high pitched and uneasy. “Why would I have a problem with that?” 

“Don’t make me say it.” His hands now resting firmly on your shoulders, keeping you in place before you could dart for you car and get the hell out of dodge. A tactic you often did when a situation made you uncomfortable.

But the look you were giving the younger Evans, the look of denial, had him sighing and releasing your shoulders. Even though you confided in him whilst inebriated you made him swear not to bring it up again, not willing to talk about it. Which is how you dealt with most of your problems. 

“I’m happy for him, Scott. Really.” Your voice returning to its usual soft tone, a whisper of a smile on display. “He's been wanting to ask her out for years, I’m glad he did.” You lied, the feeling of bile rising in your throat. “I’m gonna go.” 

“Wait-”

“Scott, I’m fine. Just gonna head home, I’ll see you Monday.” Hopping into your car and putting it in drive, not giving him chance to object or keep you there any longer. 

You needed to be away from here, away from Chris, and the four walls of your bedroom seemed like the perfect place to lock yourself away. Thankful that it was a Friday and you could avoid him for the weekend with ease. 

The drive home was silent not bringing yourself to even put on the radio as you drove lost in thought, not even realising you’d parked on the driveway of your home until your dad rapped his knuckles against your car window, making you jump. 

The rest of the night was spent under the covers, your cheeks wet from your tears and every sad song you could think of blaring through your headphones. 

“Do you know why she’s avoiding me?” Chris asked his younger brother, following him around the house as he spoke. 

It had been two days since the football game and you’d done everything in your power to avoid Chris, asking your parents to get the door when he knocked, giving some lame excuse as to why you were unavailable, each one different. Not taking his phone calls when he rang, letting him go to voicemail, which was now full. Not even opening your window when he appeared at it, he was shocked to find your curtains closed all weekend. Meaning you didn’t want to be bothered. 

He didn’t like this, it made him nervous. You never ignored or avoided him.

“I don’t know man, maybe she’s ill.”

“She never gets ill,” Chris argued. “Honestly,” holding his hands up in defence when Scott turned to face him, quirking a brow. “Her immune system is impeccable.” He recalled simply, not giving it much thought. “Do you think she’s mad at me? Have I done something wrong?”

“I don’t know!” Scott’s snappy response made Chris recoil. “Look, just give her the weekend, she might just be wanting a weekend alone. I haven’t heard from her since the game.” Resting a hand on his brothers shoulder he gave a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure you’ll be back to annoying the fuck out of her come tomorrow.”

“Why are you so worried anyway?” 

“I’m not worried,” Chris scoffed.

“Sure you are. Your voice is a higher pitch than normal, you’re following me around the house like a nervous puppy, you’ve spent the past two nights at her bedroom window.” Scott now stopped at his bedroom door, turning on his heels to face his brother. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you have a little crush.” 

Chris’s scoff was both loud and exaggerated, narrowing his eyes and folding his arms across his chest. “That’s gross, she’s my best friend. I also have a girlfriend.” His chest puffing out slightly at the last sentence. 

“Yes.” Scott deadpanned, “and we’re all extremely happy for you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got homework that needs my attention.” Turning his back on Chris and slipping into his bedroom.

“You sure she’s not mad at me?!” Chris asked quickly, only to be met with the door shutting in his face. 

“He's been a fucking nightmare all weekend, please take him back.” Scott pleaded with you as you walked towards your locker.

“He's your brother.” You giggled, opening your locker. 

“Who’s a giant pain in the ass when you’re not around. Honestly, thought I was going to kill him.” 

“You’re so dramatic, you weren’t going to kill him-”

You clocked Chris in your peripheral, storming the hallway and heading towards you and Scott. No words were spoken when he approached you and attacked you into a tight bear hug, your body stumbling backwards from the force of the hug. 

“Chris,” you strained out. “Cutting off airways.” 

“Don’t care.” He mumbled against your neck, his breath hitting your skin sent a shiver throughout your body, warmth blooming in your chest. “You’ve been ignoring me.” 

“I’ve- Chris let me go,” you urged, aware of people were watching you both and you could feel the anxiety within you starting to bubble. “People are staring.” Your voice small against his shoulder, the palms of your hands pushing against his chest. 

“I haven’t been ignoring you,” you huffed out when Chris released you, taking a small step back but still staying close. 

“You have, Squish.” He argued, your nickname rolling off his tongue with ease.

“Stop calling me that.” You groaned out.

“Squish,” he warned. 

He knew you hated the nickname, it was one of the reasons it stuck around, he took pride in annoying you. Squish was something he called you because of your small figure, compared to his lanky one. 

“You’re a pain in my ass Evans.” You grumbled, closing your locker after grabbing your books. “I haven’t been ignoring you, I just wanted the weekend to myself, plus weren’t you busy? With your girlfriend?” The word left a bitter taste on your tongue, but you needed to convince him that you were ok. 

“Not really,” he shrugged as you tried to ignore the delight that surged through you, smiling up at him. “I wanted to hang out with you.” All three of your now walking down the hall, heading towards class. 

“You’re not attached at the hip.” Scott reminded his brother, both stood either side of you. 

“Who you goin’ to prom with?” Chris asked, changing the subject when he realised he wasn’t going to get the truth from you. 

“No one,” you didn’t mean for your answer to sound bitter, honestly. But you were already done with prom and it was only three months away, if anything it was just a constant reminder of how painfully single you were. “Don’t think I’m going.”

“What?!” Chris’s voice now loud and causing heads to turn in your direction. “You’re not going to prom? You can’t!”

“Why? You have a date, Scott isn’t allowed to come. I’ll be on my own.” You scoffed, pulling your books tighter against your chest. 

“You can come with us!” He cheered, beaming down at you like it was his greatest idea yet. 

“I’ll pass,” your nose scrunching at the idea of being a third wheel with your best friend, who you were hopelessly in love with, and his girlfriend -- who you were convicted hated you -- you’d rather sit on your couch and pathetically eat ice cream whilst watching a movie. 

“Snips, please.” He pleaded, making his eyes bigger and rounder, knowing it would work. But it wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around your wrist and pulling you to a stop, his bottom lip poking out that you caved. “I really need my best girl there with me.” His thumb stroking over your wrist slowly. 

Chris didn’t know why he needed you there, by his side, or why the thought of you staying home on prom night made his chest tighten. He sounded desperate but he didn’t care, he just knew he wanted you at his side on prom night.

“Fine!” You caved, rolling your eyes when his arms shot up in victory, his t-shirt riding up ever so slightly making it hard for you to not look, his jeans hanging low on his hips and his stomach poking through, making you feel flustered and warm. 

“This is going to be so good!” He cheered, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side and placing a kiss to your temple. 

The thought of you both going to prom together had you and Chris bubbling with excitement, even if you were third wheeling. You’ll take what you can get.

Prom fell on a Friday which meant one thing. 

After parties. 

Chris had dragged you to one after prom had finished, promising you that Scott and his boyfriend would be there. But you wanted nothing more than to go home, your feet were killing you, your dress had become uncomfortable as it dug into your sides, feeling like it was squeezing the life out of you. Not to mention the death glares Chris’s girlfriend had been giving you all night were starting to get to you. 

You remembered when Chris told her you were coming with them, her fake smile wasn’t convincing but her vice like grip on her water bottle was, it practically crumpling in her hand. She’d spent the past three months trying to convince Chris to leave you at home, asking for it just to be her and him. But he never backed down, fighting your corner until she gave up two weeks before.

She’d spent the night making small talk with you, often throwing back handed compliments in the mix. “You look amazing in your dress, did you have to lose a lot of weight for it?” Was your favourite. 

Chris and you had spent the night laughing and dancing like no one was watching when she wasn’t attached to his hip. He’d spin you around before dipping you, making you both laugh at the cheesiness of it all. 

You tried to ignore the way your heart shattered at the sight of them slow dancing, the way his eyes lit up as she spoke, his hand resting on the small of her back to hold her closer to him. How he shuddered when she whispered something to him, her hand resting firmly against his chest.

He looked happy with her and that broke you. 

Other than the small snags the night seemed to be going great, Chris drove you all to prom so you offered to drive to the party, not planning on drinking so you get them both home after. You tried to include his girlfriend in on the karaoke session on the way to the party, but she just grumbled from her seat in the back and folded her arms across her chest. Watching as you and Chris belted out lyrics to some NSYNC song. 

The most beautiful thing about yours and Chris’s friendship is how you complemented each other perfectly. You were the quiet one out of the two, he preferred weekends messing around or skateboarding at the local park and you preferred quiet weekends, often spending time in the old treehouse in your backyard reading. It never really stopped you from spending every weekend together. 

On Saturday’s you would do what he wanted to do, he even taught you how to skateboard one weekend and you would always end the day at his with his family, your legs draped over him as you lounged on the couch watching films or playing board games.

Sunday’s were you favourite because he would meet you in the treehouse bright and early, sleeping bags in tow as you arranged the pillows and blow up mattress in their usual position. Books, comics, junk food and CDs scattered all over the place. 

Granted with him now having a girlfriend there wasn’t much time to do that anymore, but he still made time for you during the week instead of the weekends. Often spending Saturday’s by yourself practicing on the skateboard or with Scott and Sunday’s you’d sit in your treehouse, hopeful that his plans fell through and he’d come and spend the day with you. He never did. 

You never pushed him on it though, understanding that his time now was devoted to his girlfriend and that this happens all the time in friendship groups. You were just happy he still remembered you, still called some nights or walked home from school with you, catching up on the weekend or sharing secrets. 

He had you wrapped around his finger and he didn’t even know it.

You didn’t even try to hide your squeal of happiness when you spotted Scott and his boyfriend in the crowd, running over to them and throwing a wave over your shoulder at Chris when he complained about you ditching him for his brother. Snagging Scott’s backpack from him with your change of clothes in and rushing to the bathroom to change. 

“How was the dance?” Scott asked when you reappeared from the bathroom, now dressed in jeans, white t-shirt and your black leather jacket. “Was it everything you could ask for and more?” He teased, rolling his eyes as he took a sip of whatever alcohol was currently swirling around his red cup. 

“Oh yeah, best night of my life, I love being a third wheel.” You added sarcastically, Scott’s boyfriend, Jack, laughing at you. “Especially the snarky comments about me being fat, they made it extra special.” 

“She called you fat?” Jack’s mouth fell open and eyes wide, Scott’s expression something similar.

“In a round about way, something about how I looked amazing in my dress and wanting to know if I’d lost a lot of weight to get into it.” You couldn’t help the bitterness in your tone, your fists balling at your side. 

Thankfully all three of you were tucked away in a corner of the strangers house you were currently in, watching as your classmates and younger students drank themselves into an oblivion, having the time of their lives. 

“Anyway,” you dismissed, waving your hand at them both when they gave you a sympathetic look. “At least I can say I went to prom, even if sticking hot pins in my eyes would've been more exciting.” That had all three of you laughing, clinking their red cups and your bottled water together. 

It had been a couple of hours since you last saw Chris, the last you heard he was chugging beer from a keg with his friends in the kitchen. You wanted to check on him, make sure he was having a good night.

When you walked out onto the porch you didn’t expect to see Chris and an older guy having a fist fight on the lawn. You’d walked out at the very moment the other guys fist connected to Chris’s nose, blood shortly following after. 

“Chris!” You screamed, making the other students turn their heads to look at you. Rushing over to them both and standing in front of him you looked up at the brunette, who was now towering over you. “What is your problem?!” You could hear Chris groaning in pain behind you. 

“Ask him.” He pointed to your best friend behind you, lunging forward to grab him. “He’s the one who started it!”

“You stole my girlfriend, you piece of shit!” Chris shouted back, lunging forward and shoving you along with him.

“Alright!! Calm down!” You directed at Chris, putting your hands on his chest. “Hold on a minute,” giving his chest a push.

“Not my fault she knows what she wants, and it’s not you.” 

“How is that helping?” You scolded, turning to face the now smirking stranger. “You got your punch in, now leave. Or would you like me to call the police and tell them how an adult turned up to the party and started hitting kids.” You sneered at the tall man, granted he was only a few years older than you and Chris but that wouldn’t stop you. 

When he left you turned back to face Chris, now sitting on the grass and using his tie to pinch his nose and stop the bleeding, his head tossed back.

“Forward,” you suddenly said, making him look at you confused. “You shouldn’t tilt your head backwards, it causes the blood to go down your throat, you should put it forward.” Your voice soft as you gently pushed his head forward. 

It grew quiet between you both, nothing but his heavy sighs and the thumping music coming from the house. You couldn’t stop looking at him, confused by what had just happened. Chris never got into fights. What did he mean when he said that guy “stole” his girlfriend? You saw a bruise already starting to form around his eye. 

“What happened?” You asked at the same time he said, “thank you.”

“I- uh- she-” with a heavy sigh he hung his head, shaking it and dropping the black tie. “She dumped me, for that guy, I didn’t take it very well.” 

Your snort of laughter offended him at first, but when he looked over at you and saw you smiling at him he couldn’t stop himself from smiling to. “No shit, Chris you never get into fights, you’re too much of a pussy.” Giving him a playful smirk, nudging his shoulder with yours.

“Wow,” it was his turn to scoff now. “I get dumped and my ass beaten and your words of comfort is calling me a ‘pussy’?”

“Yup,” popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. 

“You’re a dick, squish.” His laugh creating a warmth in your chest. 

“Will you,” you huff out dabbing the open cut on his forehead carefully. “If you sit still, it won’t take as long.” Getting annoyed at how much he’s flinching away from you, wincing in pain. 

He’d been terrified of going home to his mom bloodied and bruised so he asked you to help him clean up. Now here you were stood between his legs as he sat on the edge of the bath, applying ointment to his wound. 

“It hurts,” he hissed. 

“Yeah, well that’s what you get for getting in a fight with that guy. Honestly, why would you do that? That guy was huge.” Holding his head in place by gripping his chin, forcing him to look up at you as you gently tended to his wounds.

Chris wouldn’t admit it but his heart beating uncontrollably right now, your perfumed scent sending his senses into overdrive and making him nervous. Ever since you stepped out of your house earlier this evening he couldn’t stop thinking about you or looking at you, often finding himself looking for you in the crowd when you weren’t by his side. 

He thought you looked breathtaking. You looked different to him tonight, even when you’d changed into your normal clothes. He couldn’t stop himself from looking, admiring you from afar. Maybe it was the beer clouding his judgment, you were his best friend. Had been since you were both 6. 

Had you always been this beautiful? He watched you silently as you shuffled closer between his legs, reaching to dab at the open wounds, the tip of our tongue poking out in concentration, making him smile. 

“What’s got you smiling? You literally just got dumped at prom and then her boyfriend kicked your ass.” 

Chris shrugged, his hands holding the backs of your thighs. “Just happy.” 

“You’re so weird.” You mumbled through a smile, welcoming his warm touch and making the last shuffle closer to him so your body was pressed flush against his. “Just need to clean up your nose and then we’re done.” 

It didn’t take you long to clean him up, cleaning away any evidence of a fight, the scuffs could be dismissed as drunken accidents. The feeling of his grip on your thighs tightening had you turning back to him, confused. 

“Chris, what’s wrong? You sill in pain?” He shook his head silently, his gorgeous blue eyes watching you intently. 

He doesn’t know how he’d been so blind before. 

“What?” Your voice soft, your eyes searching his and a little wide with worry. 

You always put him first, above everyone. You always made sure he ok, the way your hand rests against his cheek sends a shiver down his spine, leaning into your touch. How hadn’t he seen it before now? 

“Are you concussed? He did hit you pretty hard.” Your nose scrunching at the memory, holding three fingers up in front of him. “How many fingers am I holding up?” He just chuckled lightly and you started to panic. “Oh my god, Lisa’s going to kill me if I take you back home broken.”

At the mention of his mom Chris couldn’t help but think about the relationship you had with her, how you were there for her and the family during her divorce. How you would silently leave the living room to help her in the kitchen on Saturday’s, knowing she stresses when cooking for everyone. He thought back to all the times she’d teased him about asking you out, we all think you’d make a cute couple - me and her mom have a secret bet going on. 

It was in that moment that Chris decided to throw all caution to the wind and test his mom’s theory out. The concerned look you had made his heart swell, suddenly remembering how that always happened when you looked at him that way, especially when your eyes got a little wider with curiosity or shock. 

“Chris,” you squeaked out, the thrumming in your ears increasing when you noticed he had started to lean in, his eyes fluttering closed. “What are you doing?” You whispered, your breath hot and hitting his lips. 

“Just want to try something.” He mumbled against your lips before slotting them against yours, your body buzzing from excitement as he slid his hands up to your hips, tugging you closer. 

The grunt he released when your body fell against his had your lower half gushing, your arms wrapping around his neck as your lips moved in perfect unison. 

In one swift motion he had your legs wrapped around his waist and you perched on the edge of the sink, his narrow body situated perfectly between your thighs, his chest pressed against yours and both hands sliding up your body, coming to rest on both of your cheeks. 

You felt like you were in a daze, like you were dreaming, this couldn't be real, could it? You weren’t actually kissing your best friend in a random person’s bathroom. 

It seemed like time had stopped, like the world around you ceased to exist, the world beyond the bathroom door had disappeared. 

“Holy shit.” He whispered against your lips when he pulled away, them ghosting over yours, noses nudging against one another. Breaths mixing with one another, hot on each others skin. 

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out, your eyes fluttering open to find him staring back at you, a curious look in his eyes. After a few seconds of your mouth opening and shutting, unable to find the words. Chris rested his forehead against yours, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before he leaned forward again to place a chaste kiss on your now sensitive and swollen lips. 

It took him leaning in a second time for your mind to snap out of its Chris daze, your body leaning back, only for his to follow. Your hand resting on his chest, giving it a firm push, holding him in place. His brows knitting together in confusion. 

“Chris,” your cheeks tinting a crimson colour when his hands gave your hips a gentle squeeze. “Wh-what, I mean, you-you kissed me!” You squeaked out, your brows now raised and eyes wide. 

“You kissed me back.” He argued back, a playful smile now stretching across his face. 

“That’s not the point,” you shook your head, carding your fingers through your own hair, your tongue dipping out to wet your bottom lip. Suddenly feeling very overwhelmed, your skin feeling hot and prickly. 

“You kissed me... why?” Your eyes meeting his, only for his face to slightly fall creating an ache in your chest. 

“Because I wanted to kiss you, was I not supposed to?” 

“No. I mean, I-I,” letting out a sigh through your nose, scrunching your nose. “What does it mean? Why did you do it? What about-”

“I think I’ve always wanted to kiss you, just never really realised it before. But the more I think about it, the more it all makes sense to me.” Chris was nervous, you could tell, the way his eyes darting around your face, or the way he shuffled on his feet, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. 

“Things have been weird tonight, you’ve made me nervous, made my heart race just by looking at you. When I saw you walk out in that dress, I forgot about everything else. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all night.” His eyes finally settling on your eyes again, his hands now holding your face. “You’re my best friend in the entire world.”

You watched, dumfounded, as his eyes fluttered closed before he cursed under his breath, his hands trembling as they held you. “But I’m falling for you, head first, right into the deep end.” 

He smiled at the small gasp you let out. 

This was something you’d only ever imagined happening. Always watching from the sidelines as girls came and went, hoping one day he’d see you the way you saw him. Desperately wanting to hear him talk about you the way he spoke about other girls. 

“Chris,” you gulped, your throat suddenly dry. “I-”

“You don't need to say anything right now, if you don’t want to. I’ve kind of sprung this on you, I know you don’t handle being put on the spot well.” He started to nervously ramble, making you smile. “If you need time to think about it, that’s fine to-”

“I like you, always have Chris.” 

“Seriously?” Your silent nod had his jaw go slack, making you giggle.

“I’m shocked you didn’t know, everyone else did.”

“They did?!” 

“Hmhm. I told Scott when I was drunk at the Summer BBQ after you brought a date.” Your cheeks turning a deeper shade of red at your admission, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze.

“That’s why you got wasted?” You nodded, his hands now dropping from your waist to the edge of the counter, caging you on it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m your best friend, I was the biggest walking cliche on the planet. I’d rather have you in my life as my best friend than not at all.” You shrugged.

“Well,” he exhaled through his nose, his hands now holding your face and his nose nudging yours. “I am a sucker for a cliche.” 

“You did tell me at a party, after your girlfriend broke up with you. If this was a movie, it would be the part where they show a cheesy montage of their friendship, the boy finally realising he likes his best friend.” 

“Then he kisses her.”

“And everything falls into place.” 

The moment his lips slotted against yours had you melting into his touch, noses knocking against one another, tongues dancing with one another. His body now flush against yours, one hand holding your neck and the other on your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Easy Evans,” you whispered against his lips when you pulled back, a needy whine from him following as he chased your lips with his own. “Anyone would think you’re falling in love with me.” Your thumbs stroking the apple of his cheeks.

When his eyes fluttered open and a soft smile took over you couldn’t help but return the smile, scrunching your nose. 

“Who say’s I’m not?” 

#chris evans #chris evans fic #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x best friend!reader #chris evans x female!reader #chris evans x fem!reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #cevans #cevansedit #evansedit #slowburn #friends to lovers #friends to lovers fic

[gretavanfleetposts]

Don't Wait Around for Me

Author's Note ⭐: Okay if you don’t want to be hurt, don’t read this one. This was for this ask so I hope you enjoy! (Thank you to @theweightofstardust for being my beta reader, as usual!)

Content Warnings: mentions of not wanting to have kids, sorta heated makeout session, this also features a breakup so proceed with caution

Pairing: Josh x f!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

If you had to relive the day over again, you’d do the entire thing differently. And then maybe it wouldn’t have ended with you here, crying against your steering wheel on the side of the road like something out of a Nicholas Sparks novel.

The day had started like any other; you were on your way to Josh’s place to spend the evening with him one last time before he left for tour. It would be a month before you saw your boyfriend again and you were already dreading it, even knowing you had one last night to spend with him before he left.

You supported his dreams, of course. And you were there in the crowd whenever you could manage to be. But there was a silence he left in his absence, a silence that was palpable, that you could practically reach out and touch when all you really wanted was to reach out and touch Josh. So you clung to the few moments you had before he jetted off again. And you prayed for zero distractions, that the time spent could be time spent between just the two of you. That was what you needed at the moment. Him and only him.

Josh had made a reservation at your favorite local spot so you had dug through your closet and pulled out the dress you were wearing when he had first locked eyes with you in the crowd of one of the band’s shows two years prior: a short, white, flowy dress with dramatic bell-shaped sleeves. He always said it made you look like an angel.

“Excuse me, miss. Mr. Kiszka has invited you backstage, if you would like.” The tall, burly security guard was speaking directly to you, to your surprise.

“Oh my god, you have to go,” your friend whispered to you.

Unable to contain the smile on your face, you nodded furiously and the security guard led you through the crowds of the venue, through the winding halls backstage, and finally into the dressing room of one Joshua Kiszka.

“I hope this isn’t weird. I just saw you in the crowd and I had to know you,” the handsome singer said.

You were utterly speechless. Was this really happening? Were you really here right now, in Josh Kiszka’s dressing room?

“I’m sorry, that was even weirder,” he chuckled, a smile on his face that almost seemed…nervous.

“I don’t normally do this,” he continued.

You spoke up then, unable to resist the need to soothe him, a total stranger. It was odd, the effect he had on you. He was a total rockstar onstage but backstage, you swore it made more sense to take him in your arms and hold him, protect him.

“No, no, it’s not weird at all. I’m flattered, actually. To be honest though, I can’t believe you noticed me in the crowd, all those screaming fans.” You huffed a laugh at the thought of all of the girls that had been surrounding you, fawning over him as his eyes found yours in the crowd.

“How could I not notice you? You looked like an angel out there in the crowd. Like you were out there just for me to see.”

You paired the dress with matching white go go boots, an original gem you had found while out thrifting with Josh one day. He always said it was his favorite outfit on you. So naturally, that was what you chose to make the night as special as you could.

And when he saw you as you walked through his front door, dress flowing with every step you took, he couldn’t contain the smile on his face. Nor could he contain his hands as he pulled you into him and let his fingers trace your silhouette.

With no hesitation, he let his lips find yours in a searing kiss that quickly turned silly as he peppered your face with pecks, holding you tightly to keep you from squirming out of his grasp at the ticklishness of it.

“Are you ready, angel?” he asked, prepared to leave for dinner.

You nodded and soon the two of you were on your way.

—

It was early evening as the two of you sat down to dinner at the small cafe that had become your favorite place to go with Josh when he was home. The patio was especially nice this time of year, tall heat lamps ensuring a cozy temperature and strings of twinkling lights passing by overhead. The ornate wire tables were packed close together but it was usually a quiet spot so you didn’t have to worry about fans coming up to Josh and interrupting your date.

Tonight, however, the quiet ambiance was slightly ruined by the myriad of screaming toddlers running around. It wasn’t typically a place where you’d see small children but every now and then there would be a family or two. Although the children running around tonight were especially loud.

It picked at your nerves, having to fight over the screaming to hear Josh. Although he didn’t seem to mind the elevated volume while you ate. In fact, he seemed pleased to abandon conversation altogether and fix his gaze on the tiny humans running frantically around the outdoor cafe area.

Once his attention had been diverted, it felt impossible to reel him back in. Josh loved children, you knew that. You weren’t particularly fond yourself but what you were fond of was the way his eyes lit up every time there was a child around. So you understood the distraction. And usually you didn’t even mind it but you were becoming far too aware of the ticking of time as it evaded you, marching you closer to Josh’s departure. Nevertheless, you ate mostly in silence as Josh made faces and laughed with the kids as they frolicked past.

You tried to staple it in your memory that way, not with the kids particularly but with Josh looking happy, his eyes twinkling and his smile bright as ever. Soon you’d be without him and it was a night that you had wanted to go perfectly so you could truly enjoy it with him.

However, it was the incident that happened toward the end of the dinner that had sent the night spiraling. One of the children came rocketing past you, his drink in his hand as he sipped on it through a straw the way he had done ten times earlier that same dinner. Only this time, he tripped on his untied shoelace and sent the drink flying through the air and landing on you, the lid bursting open and spilling the red contents all over your dress and boots.

“It’s the dress I think.” You were blushing, surely. You could practically feel the heat flooding your cheeks at his words. Him calling you an angel. It was surreal.

“It is a beautiful dress but I think it’s just you.”

Oh so not only was he beautiful and talented, but he was charming too.

“My brothers and I are going to a bar after this. Is there any way you’d be interested in coming with us?” His eyes were inquisitive, but more than that, they were persuasive. And so was that damned toothy grin of his.

You couldn’t help the wide smile that grew on your face at his invitation.

“I would love to.”

The child’s parents and Josh alike immediately stood to help you clean off. But as you fought to hold back tears at the thought of your ruined dress, you put on a brave face and brushed off the helping hands, ensuring the parents it was alright. Josh seemed to have no problem laughing it off, helping the little boy to his feet and calling the waiter over to order a new drink for him.

It all might have been a bit sweeter if you weren’t focused on the dress that was now permanently stained with fruit punch; the dress you had been wearing when you met, ruined. It felt like a memory torn apart.

Maybe it was a bit dramatic but coupled with the thought of Josh leaving for a month and having his attention divided over dinner, it was all a bit too much for you. So the car ride back to Josh’s place was mostly silent as Josh hummed along to the radio and you grappled with the sobs clawing their way up your throat, trying desperately to keep them at bay.

“I’m gonna go shower,” you said in an unenthused tone, not a foot inside the door of Josh’s place when you arrived home.

“Maybe we should talk first, mama.” His words halted you in your place and you turned in the hallway to face him.

“Josh, I’m sticky. Can it please wait?”

You certainly knew you needed to talk but the sticky fabric of your dress clinging to your body was doing nothing to help lighten your mood and it didn’t feel like the right way to start the conversation.

“I just want to know why you’re so mad. You said nothing on the ride home.”

Well, it seemed it would be the start to the conversation regardless.

Heat bubbled up in your cheeks as the tears prying at your eyes suddenly evaporated to make way for anger. “Do you really not know why I might be mad?”

“Because a little kid accidentally tripped?”

“He ruined my dress, Josh. Do you think this is going to come out?”

“He didn’t mean to,” Josh continued, an exasperated look on his face that likely matched the frustration growing on yours.

“I never said he did,” you defended yourself. It felt silly to even be having this conversation. He had clearly ruined your dress and you felt you had every right to be upset about it.

“He’s just a kid, y/n. Kids make mistakes. You’re acting like he purposefully slighted you.”

Josh’s lack of understanding of the situation was beginning to grate on your nerves and as you replied, the volume of your voice grew louder.

“I know kids make mistakes, Josh. It doesn’t make it any less annoying. He still ruined a dress that meant a lot to me; how can you not see that?”

“It’s just a dress.”

His tone was beginning to match yours but it wasn’t the tone that had hurt you.

“What’ll you have?” Josh asked, leaning into you so you could hear him over the noise of the bar.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having!” you called back.

“Two Salty Dogs it is!”

Josh ordered the drinks then led you to a table where his brothers and Danny were drinking and chatting with friends. The two of you sat at the end of the table, near the wall where it was somewhat quieter and you could hear each other talk without shouting. That was where the two of you talked for hours, until closing in fact.

“Josh, we should head back to the hotel,” Jake nudged Josh around 2am.

“You guys go, I’m gonna make sure y/n gets home okay,” he said, never taking his eyes off you to address his brother.

“Are you sure, Josh? I can totally walk alone; it isn’t that far from here.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not letting my angel walk home alone.”

“It is not just a dress,” you choked out, the anger and sadness now mixing together as you took a step toward Josh. “And not to mention, you hardly paid any attention to me while we were there. I didn’t realize I was so much less interesting than a literal child.”

“I don’t think you’re less interesting, y/n. I think we can both agree they were a little distracting.”

His cheeks were red and hot and you rarely saw him this way but it fueled your own fight.

“Yes, they were. That’s the problem! I didn’t want any distractions tonight, I just wanted to spend it with you! I didn’t think I’d have to compete for your attention!”

“What about when we have kids? Are you going to constantly be upset that you don’t have my undivided attention all the time?” He seemed to be in disbelief, as if it was something you had discussed and agreed on. But truthfully, his questions had caught you fully off-guard.

“Wh-what?”

“When we have kids. We have to start thinking about these things because I love you and-”

“And what, you just decided for me that I have to want kids? That that’s something I have to become okay with? Did you ever once ask me, Josh?”

He looked hurt. Utterly wounded. And if you didn’t have the sneaking suspicion that this path that you had started down was not one you could easily turn around on, you would have reached out and held him in your arms to soothe him, to wipe the hurt from his features and replace his usual toothy grin where it belonged.

“I guess I just thought…” he began but quickly let himself trail off as his eyes fell to the floor where they traced patterns in the wooden floorboards, anything to keep his eyes from yours.

After a moment of silence, you tried gently to prod him to continue, although you already knew what he was going to say.

“Thought what, Josh?”

He sighed deeply, still staring at the floor, before he spoke.

“I thought we’d have our own some day.”

When he finally met your eyes, you stared at him silently for a moment, trying to figure out when he had decided this for you. Or when the argument had even turned into this.

“When were you going to actually ask me if that’s what I wanted?” you asked, shaking your head in confusion, trying to wrap your mind around the conversation that was currently being had. Of course you loved Josh. But you clearly were not where he was, not in this line of thinking.

He seemed frustrated then. Maybe even angry, although it was a fair question to ask.

“I’m asking you now, y/n,” he said sternly. “Is that something you want or not?”

It was like being cornered. You knew you couldn’t lie and say you did want it. Because the truth was, you never saw yourself as a mother. It just didn’t feel like you. But that truth would likely end your relationship. And losing Josh was the last thing you wanted.

How could you pretend it was something you wanted, though? How could you make a promise to him that you knew you couldn’t keep?

So when you answered, your voice came out barely audible, all too aware of the implications of your words.

“No, Josh. It isn’t.”

The silence filled the room as you waited with baited breath to hear what Josh would say, when finally he nodded, as if trying to further process your words.

“Well then I guess we just want two different things.”

“This is me,” you said, gesturing to an apartment not far from the bar you and Josh had been drinking at.

You searched your purse for your keys as you walked up the three steps to the stoop, leaving Josh on the sidewalk as you unlocked the door. But before you opened the door, you turned to take one last look at him. His eyes were bright, his hair was disheveled from the sweat he had worked up during the show, and his smile was nervous but sweet.

You never did things like this.

“Would you like to come in, Josh?” you asked with a smile.

“I would love to, angel.”

You stretched out your arm, signaling for him to take your hand as you pushed the door open and led him inside.

“Right, I suppose we do.”

You could already feel the tears welling up in your chest as you asked yet another question that you knew the answer to.

“Where does this leave us, Josh?”

He was silent for a moment and in that silence, you lived out your lives together in your mind. Or rather, watched the pieces of the puzzle that had been fitting together so nicely fall away, obscuring the picture you had pieced together in your head. You pictured the dates that hadn’t yet happened, the kisses backstage that would never take place, the sleepless nights while he was on the road where you no longer had anyone to call to dry your tears before they stained your pillow. You watched the whole thing that had felt so breezily planned out, as if it had been the easiest thing in the world, blow away with a gentle gust of wind. You knew what you had started and you knew how it ended. You could hear the silence of his absence even before it was firmly upon you. So it wasn’t really his words that broke you, they only solidified the new path you found yourself on, the new picture that was building in your head, replacing the old.

“It’s what I want, y/n.”

It was as if his form sagged from the admission, like it had taken all of the energy out of him to speak it. Even his curls seemed a little less bouncy as the words escaped his mouth and settled heavily over the room.

You weren’t even sure you were still breathing, the silence spoke so loudly.

“So that’s it then,” you managed, hardly recognizing your own voice as the words pushed past your lips and joined his own in the tense air of the room.

His eyes met yours, glassy with realization as to what he had just said. There was agony there, you could tell. He always did wear his emotions on his sleeve, never being able to hide a smile or laughter. Or even tears. But even so, you weren’t used to seeing his features drawn down into such sadness and hurt. It just wasn’t Josh.

“I don’t want that to be it.”

Tears were now actively streaming down your face as you spoke, surely smearing makeup down your face in their wake, not that you really cared at the moment.

“I’m not changing my mind on this. You’ll wait around for me and I still won’t change my mind.”

It was the undeniable truth, made all the more evident by the silence that now hung in the air. You both knew it.

You wiped around your eyes furiously, trying to contain yourself as you began to plot your escape, not wanting to fully fall apart in front of Josh. “So let me give you a chance to find someone who can give you what you want.”

“Y/n…”

His words didn’t stop your movements though and you half expected him to reach out and grab you before you made it through the door, to apologize and tell you it would be okay, you’d find a way to work through it, to compromise. But his touch never came.

You made it to your car, even managing to pull out of the driveway and drive a ways down the road before pulling onto the shoulder and slumping over your steering wheel, uncontrollable sobs taking over.

And as you sat there, slumped against the steering wheel, the weight of the silence crushed you. It lifted its heavy hand high into the atmosphere and displaced the air as it came crashing down over you, suffocating you.

His lips found yours not ten steps into the apartment, his hands gently pushing you up against the wall of your entryway. Your fingers worked their way into his curls, the sleeves of your dress draping over his form as you hugged him closer to you.

Fumbling blindly around the dark apartment, Josh pulled you away from the wall and let you take the lead, walking backwards as his lips remained on yours, searching for your bedroom.

It was like traversing a maze and it certainly wasn’t without casualties as the two of you collectively bumped and tripped over multiple pieces of furniture, sending you both into a fit of giggles as you finally reached your bedroom and collapsed onto your mattress.

He stood over you for a moment, taking in the sight of you lying on your bed before him. It looked like he was trying to memorize every part of you, every part of the night and where it had led him.

Slowly, he leaned over to let his face hover close to yours, the look on his face having turned serious.

Gently, he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose. It felt like such an intimate action and suddenly the realization hit you. This was more than just a fling with a rockstar. Josh would become important to you. He would become your person, the one you called when you were sad, the one you ran to when you were excited, the one you thought about every night before falling asleep. Maybe that same realization was in the gentle kiss he had left on your nose.

“My angel,” he whispered before letting his lips find yours again.

#josh kiszka #josh kiszka angst #josh kiszka fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fic #greta van fleet angst