I'm... sorry to hear that, Colt. You don't deserve to be treated like that; no one does. I'm sure she's regretting not going out with you again now, pretty boy.
You sure are a catch now. You've got a pretty nice-looking face, a badass job, and one of the sweetest personalities I've ever met. People would be silly not to fall for you.
Oh hey, thanks, Birchie. I’m over it now, so it’s alright. Long time ago.
But it worked out better for me because I had more time to do things I wanted to do which led to me being recruited by a local stuntman. So it all worked out.
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Summary: Ryland Grace is ready to find the girl of his dreams, so he call for some help. Little did he know he was just waiting for Birch to be available.
Word count: 5.5K
The Project Proposal
A guy can only take so much loneliness. He really can. Friends can only go so far, and eventually you get to a point where they’re all getting married and hanging out with them becomes a hassle. That or your personal matchmaking website coming to life. Yeeeeah, who really wants that.
My work is really great though. Being the cool teacher to a bunch of lively middle school kids is pretty great, especially since I teach them science. The kids are actually cool, and I’m making science fun and important to them. It’s a win win for me.
But I can’t help but want more than this. I had toyed with the idea off and on, but for some reason, I’d always turn it down. Not sure why I did, but now I’m getting to a point where maybe it’s a good idea to try looking for someone. That other half that’s out there for me.
But I’m not about to look alone. Nooooo, I’ve done that before, and that ended in a disaster. This time, I need some help.
That’s when I pull out my phone and call in a favor.
One of my best friends is one who’s smart enough to do anything, interested enough to want to do everything, and unable to narrow it down to do something long term. Toni was teaching high school math when I met her some years ago, teaching everything from Algebra I to Calculus.
Some of my students excelled enough to be taught math by an “actual” high school teacher. If you’ve ever dealt with middle school kids before, you know anything that makes them older is important. Little do they know they’ve got it made right now.
Anyway, I give Toni a call because if anyone can help me out, it would be her. I trust her. I just hope she’s still in town. In her quest to find the next right career choice, she’s been traveling more than normal. That or she’s just taking advantage of the free time.
The phone rings for a long time, and just when I think I’m about to leave a really weird voicemail, she picks up. “Hello?”
“Hey, Toni, it’s me, Ryland.”
I can hear the beaming smile in her tone. “Ryland Grace! Hey, buddy! It’s good to hear from you. I was just thinking of you. I know spring break is on the horizon, so I’ve been wondering how you’re doing. What’s up, my friend?”
I smile. No matter how long you’ve been out of the profession, there’s still a part of you that keeps up with things like a teacher. “That’s kind of you to remember me. And yes, spring break is next week which is the reason why I’m calling. Or well, one reason anyway, but you wouldn’t happen to be in town for spring break would you? I could really use your help with something.”
I had her attention I could tell because her tone dripped with interest and curiosity. “Well as a matter of fact, I will be in town again! I’ve got a job interview Tuesday morning, and if all goes well, I’ll be on retainer for a law firm of all things. Can you believe that? Forensic mathematics for certain cases, how wild is that!”
That is a surprise. Forensic mathematics sounds…actually, that sounds like something I’d rather geek out over with her than what I’m about to ask for. I want it badly enough…but I can just do it myself.
No, actually I know I can’t, but I don’t want to bother her when she’s got an interview to prep for. “Oh well that’s fine, Toni, I didn’t—”
She cuts me off in a way that’s comforting and matter of fact. Just stern enough to get me to quit talking without making me feel bad for even talking. “Now, Ryland, don’t be like that. You know I’m always up for helping you out with whatever you’ve got in mind. So come on, buddy, spill the details.”
I can’t believe I’m about to say the words. I really can’t. So much so that they’re almost kind of stuck in my throat. “Oh well - you see I - I mean, I kinda sorta wanna…find someone and…well, I need a wingwoman, so I was wondering if you…would like to be my wingwoman?”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. I can only imagine what she’s thinking right now, and it’s keeping my entire body prepped to respond with a sigh and an eye roll. She’s kind and a good friend to have in your corner, but boy, can she be a tease sometimes.
“You want me to do what?” The surprise makes her squeak out the last word.
There it is. The eye roll and sigh come out automatically before I rub my scruffy face with my free hand. “Do I really have to say it again?”
Her voice is somehow even more surprised now. “It was that hard to ask me?”
“I’m just,” I shrug even though she can’t see it. “This is kind of nerve racking for me, okay? It’s been a while since I did anything like this. And I need help. I don’t know what I’m doing. And I’m tired of it being just me. So I…” I pause and bob my head a bit before my voice goes quiet. “I need a wingwoman in my corner. Please?” There. I said it one more time, like she asked. More or less.
There’s another pause, but it’s not as long this time. This time when she responds, her voice is clear and calm, and gosh, does it do wonders for my nerves. “You’ve got it, buddy. Let’s do this.”
Okay. So that’s it then. I’m…going to start dating again.
Preliminary Research
Lunch was on her that Sunday afternoon. I don’t know how much her current boyfriend knows about the whole situation, but I have a feeling that he might get involved sooner or later after all having a wingman and a wingwoman might not be so bad. But since I’m very nervous about this, we’re just gonna stick with the wingwoman for now. So it’s just her and me at my favorite restaurant.
The moment I saw her walk in, slide into our booth, and sit down with a notebook and pen, I knew I had asked the right person to help me out. Leave it to Toni to come prepared like this to a meeting between a wingwoman and a - what would I be called in this situation? The lead pilot, I guess. Appropriate too since I’m the one about to fly into the great unknown, hoping I don’t crash and burn.
Holy moly, that train of thought is not helping my nerves at all.
I order a water and a Guinness, and she orders a Diet Coke and then gets right to work. “Okay,” she hums thoughtfully as she opens the notebook, and I can see writing already on the first page, scribbled out on her writing. I even see a diagram, wow! I mean, I appreciate a good diagram too, but what could she possibly need that for?
Toni grabs the pen with her left hand and skips the pleasantries. She means business. “Let’s start with simple things, okay?”
“What are you about to do? I didn’t know I was going to be interviewed.”
“This is to help me think of potential options for you,” she answers matter of fact. “Besides, I can’t really help you if I don’t know what you’re looking for, can I?”
She’s got me there. Why bother to fly with me if she is clueless as to what I’m looking for? She might be looking for the Grand Canyon, thinking that’s what I want, while I’m looking for the Painted Desert. You get the idea.
I nod and shrug. “That is a good point. Okay, so what’s first?”
She reads the first question from her notebook. “What’s your max and min age range?”
The waitress comes back with our drinks, and I just blink at Toni. “Age range?”
“Assuming you have one,” she says as she picks up her glass. “Well, within reason, of course. I just don’t know if you’re the type where a significant age gap would bother you or not.”
“Well I…” I pause. This is supposed to be starting off easy. I had never considered this before. “I guess, um…” I think through the optics on this. I’m young, and girls tend to mature faster than guys, so going younger isn’t a problem. Going older? I guess it depends on the woman. “Okay, so I’d prefer to be relatively flexible on this. I definitely don’t mind going younger than I am, and I don’t really mind going a little older, but that’ll depend on the girl, I guess.”
“It’ll all boil down to the girl,” she says as she makes note of my answer, “but it doesn’t hurt to have guidelines and standards. You’re not going to settle, Ryland Grace,” she points her pen at me, “and I won’t let you.”
I smile appreciatively at her. “You’re turning out to be a good wingwoman, ya know. Thanks.”
Toni returns the smile, warm and comforting as she nods once. “You’re welcome,” she says softly. “Now, let’s get to the next one.”
Toni is thorough. Very thorough. I shouldn’t be surprised because she’s a mathematician at heart. It’s almost part of their genetic code to be thorough and double check the answers. Between bites of our meals, we covered everything I did and didn’t think of. Her diagram ended up being for characteristics to look for and characteristics that are big turn offs.
And the questions weren’t just about what to look for in a girl either; a lot of them were about me. Which makes sense. To better understand who would work best for me, she needed to know me better. It was simultaneously refreshing and exposing. But she was kind in that she shared things too, so it didn’t feel like I was the only one on display.
We stayed for a long time. Long enough that we left a very appreciative tip for the waitress since we took up her table that long. Long enough that I jokingly asked Toni if her boyfriend would be jealous I’m taking so much of her time. For the record, we did try dating once and figured out that dating each other felt more akin to dating cousins. We’re definitely better off as friends, and we agree we’re happier that way.
“No,” she answers casually as her lips turn downward, “because he’s with some girl named Bethany now.”
I choke on the last of my water; I obviously wasn’t prepared for an answer like that. “Wait, what? Who? Since when?”
“Bethany,” she repeats as she picks up her soda before finishing it off. “Two days before you called me actually. I mean,” she shrugs as we leave the booth, “it’s for the best, I guess. We weren’t working out anyway, and I was having doubts about it all anyway.” She sighs as we walk out the door. “It’s…for the best.”
I know that sigh. I made the same noise before, when my ex-girlfriend left. The kind that asks what’s so wrong with me no one wants to choose me? “Why didn’t you say anything? I’d have listened, Toni.”
She offers a soft smile as she gently nudges my shoulder with hers as we walk to her car and my bike. “Because I’m more interested in helping you find true love than talk about my lack of it. Besides,” that smile turns into a little smirk, “you just asked me to be your wingwoman. I wasn’t about to discourage you in your pursuit with my failure after that kind of request.”
I tilt my chin down a bit and give her an unimpressed look. “Something tells me it’s not your failure. Look, you’ve helped me enough today. Let me help you out now.”
She raises an eyebrow at me. “How?”
I shrug. “Ice cream? A listening ear? Trashtalk the guy?”
Toni laughs, and it makes me smile. That’s a good start. “Well,” she says slowly, contemplating it all. “Who am I to turn that down? Thanks, Ryland. I appreciate it.”
Little did I know that before we met up elsewhere for ice cream, Toni wrote down: Good listener, willing to help, good at picking up certain context clues, knows ice cream is a good idea for a sad girl. “Don’t you worry, buddy,” she said as she looked over her notes. “We’ll find her. You deserve the best.”
Day 1 - Evening - Project Research
Toni is smart to ask me how I wanted this best done. The problem is I didn’t have an answer for that. I’m not good at this stuff. I haven’t done it in a while, and I am in way over my head so the only answer I can give her to start off with is potentially hanging out in a bar and looking for girls.
Boy was I wrong.
For one thing, the first bar we started at was having an…event. Toni swears she didn’t realize when she suggested it, and from the look on her face, I believe her. It was some flamboyant Honky Tonk Hooters hoedown showdown something or another with really loud music and lots of yelling. This was an event parading as an excuse to act trashy.
All it took was one look around for me to say, “No.”
“Yup! Okay.” Toni turns around so fast I swear she could get whiplash and pulls me out the door by my arm before I realized she left.
The next bar we found had a decent selection. I hate to say that. It sounds like I’m at the grocery store. I swear that’s not how I view this experience, but I don’t exactly know what other language to use.
One good thing about having a woman as a wingman - wingwoman I should say - is that she has a better idea of what to look for than I do. The problem with having a wingwoman is I want to stick close to her because she’s the only person I know at this bar and I’m comfortable with my friend, and people think we’re together. So that clearly throws a kink in the plan.
This is the first time I’m actually considering us having an earbud in our ear so we can talk to each other and she could feed me information.
I thought this was going to be easier with help, but when is anything ever easy?
So, after properly distancing ourselves, we started texting each other. Lots of text messages.
Terbium: Ok try the brunette to your left 3 people down from you
Ryness Gracious: Ok…she has pretty eyes…what do I say? Because hi doesn’t work here
Teribum: You could ask her what she’s drinking because it looks good and you might try it
Ryness Gracious: That’s not going to work
Teribum: Why not?
Ryness Gracious: Because it *doesn’t* look good…I’m just a simple guy. Water, coffee, or beer.
Teribum: 🤦🏻♀️
Ryness Gracious: What?
Teribum: You don’t *have* to order it
Ryness Gracious: She’ll get suspicious if I don’t! Give me something else to say
The problem with this is the girls don’t think I’m interested, even though I am, which is a big big big problem for a lonely guy who just wants to find the right girl.
I call it quits for the night right after I accidentally bumped into a waitress and spilled some drinks on the floor.
I groan in my hands as we walk out of the bar. “That…really sucked.”
Toni pats my back and offers an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, buddy. So tonight was a bust, but we weren’t expecting to hit the jackpot tonight. It’s only day one! What do you tell your students about bad results?”
I sigh. I love and hate how good she is at this. “Bad results means it’s time to start asking different questions and look at different angles. Adjust and try again.”
“There ya go!” Toni replies, practically beaming. “The data is still valuable.”
I’m not convinced. Well, I take that back. I believe what she’s saying is true, but I don’t like where my mind jumps to first in this. “But what if we find I’m the thing that needs to be different?”
“Stop it, you.” She shakes her head. “A plethora of people live in this city, and tourists pour in and out all the time. It’s not you. It’s finding top tier people to match with.”
We get to her car, and before we climb in, she says, “Look, Ryland, it’s day one. You and I both know the best, most accurate results come after lots of attempts. I know that sounds kinda shitty when talking about the dating pool, but it’ll be okay. She’s out there.” She gives me a soft smile as she climbs in the car.
“Hold onto hope, Ryland Grace.”
Day X - Evening - Project Shut Down
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt emotions like this. They’re intense. They make my heart pound hard against my chest, and I’m having a hard time catching my breath over the events that just took place and the girl I was just with.
It was a disaster.
There’s something wrong with me. There really must be something wrong with me. Toni has gone above and beyond for me. She’s found really nice girls to talk to and test the waters with, but for whatever reasons, they just didn’t really work out. The only common denominator is me, just like I feared.
Toni’s data on this particular girl was right. She’s sweet, kind, interesting, smart, has a mind of her own and opinions and can carry on a conversation. She checks a lot of boxes, and I genuinely was looking forward to this date. I really was.
I wish I hadn’t.
Toni did mention one particular detail in passing, and we both thought it was insignificant. I sure did because why would I care that she and her boyfriend of 6 months broke up almost a month ago? Because apparently she’s still in love with the guy and decided to run an experiment for herself. If the guy is jealous she’s going out on a date, then he still has feelings for her. And apparently, he does.
Have you ever been on a date that you think is going well, except that she checks her phone a lot, but it’s just the times we live in and you think it’s just a nervous habit so you let that slide, and then all of a sudden her ex-boyfriend walks up to your table and starts trying to steal your date? All because she discretely sent a picture of you to her ex because apparently you look good enough to be a threat? You know what? I don’t know if that detail actually helps me feel better or not.
And then you realize this whole date was a sham, and you’ve been manipulated into being bait.
I could say before tonight I’ve never been in such a ridiculous situation before. I wish I could continue to have that title, but I can’t. I can’t! And you know what? I’m hurt, I’m humiliated, I’m angry, and I’m done. I am done. I’m pulling the plug. Nothing is worth this kind of humiliation. I’ll just be alone forever, thanks, instead of this misery.
Adrenaline born out of intense emotion can be one heck of a boost because I paddled on my bike from the restaurant all the way to Toni’s apartment. It’s time to let my partner in this project know the show’s over. Then I can go back to my life and just learn to be happy in it. At least after this, I will never be put in a position of dealing with that kind of embarrassment and heartbreak again.
I’m so wound up with negative emotions that I almost forget to lock my bike when I get to her apartment, but then I remember to do it, only to trip on the wheel of my bike after I lock it up. That really doesn’t help my mood. I storm up the stairs to her floor. I have enough adrenaline rushing through me that I could walk up the Empire State Building’s stairs without breaking a sweat.
I don’t care what time it is - it’s not even that late, really - and I repeatedly slam my palm against Toni’s door. I hear her quickly shuffle on the other side of the door, telling whoever’s there she'll call the cops if necessary. She obviously sees it’s me through the peephole because she flings the door wide open with a confused, worried look on her face. “Ryland? What are you—I thought you were—”
“I’m done,” I interrupt her, crossing my arms in front of me and then breaking them with a downward swing. “I’m done, Toni. I can’t,” my voice wobbles, and my eyesight starts to go blurry with tears. “I can’t do this anymore.” I push my glasses up to my hairline as I hide my face behind my hands because I can’t hold back tears now.
I feel arms wrap around me as my friend holds me and offers soft assurances to me. Honestly, that only makes me cry harder, but I can’t help it. The proverbial camel’s back is broken, and I’ve got nothing left in the tank.
After a few minutes, I can finally stop crying enough for her to pull back and ask what happened. “I thought she was so nice, and you guys would hit it off! She even called to tell me she was sorry I didn’t get that job. What happened anyway?”
I tell her everything, every detail I never want to share again, and her jaw drops. It practically unhinges, and under different circumstances, I would have laughed. I don’t have a laugh in me. “Holy shit,” she breathes out softly. “Ryland, oh Ryland, buddy, I’m so sorry. I never would have dreamed she would be like that.”
Toni gestures inside and gently tugs me in by my arm sleeve. “C’mon, buddy, let’s try to wind down with some ice cream and chill company. Seems to be a night of broken hearts, and this kind of thing is in order.”
“Plural broken hearts?” I manage to ask past a hiccup. “Some idiot broke your heart too?”
“Not mine,” she answers gently. Toni leads me to her kitchen where another woman I had never seen before is sitting at the table with a bowl of half eaten chocolate ice cream before her. Blue eyes shining with tears look up at me, and I swear I only see gentle starlight in them.
She’s breathtaking.
The blonde quickly wipes tears from her cheeks and stands, albeit reluctantly. “I’m sorry, Toni,” she says with an angelic voice. “I didn’t know you were having company. I’ll go.”
Before I can speak a word against her leaving, good ol’ Toni beats me to it. “No, you will not,” she answers in the firm but gentle way she’s good at. “Sit down. We’re just adding a third to the table who needs ice cream and a safe place to take a breather. Birch,” Toni points to me, “this is my brother from another mother, Ryland. Ryland,” Toni points to the blonde woman, “this is my sister from another mister, Birch.”
Birch offers me a soft, polite smile, and my heart jumps into my throat. What is happening to me? “It’s nice to meet you,” she tells me softly.
“It’s uhh,” I clear my throat and try again, “it’s nice to meet you too, Birch.” I couldn’t help it. I wanted to say her name. It felt like a need I couldn’t repress. It tastes heavenly on my tongue. “I umm,” I can feel myself grow bashful, and I wish I didn’t. I drop my head a bit but keep my gaze on hers. “I hear you’re a part of the broken hearts club too? I’m sorry to hear that.”
Her smile falters, and I’m ready to kick myself for the comment. She shrugs and says, “Yeah, I wish I was here under better circumstances, but it is what it is, I guess.” The angel named Birch gives me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry to hear the same about you.”
Something in me heals just by that statement from her. “Thanks. I’ll…” I shrug. I don’t know what to say. “I’ll live.”
“You two will feel better in time,” Toni promises as she gently leads me to the table. “Sit down, Birch. Ryland, you too.” Birch - I love that name! It’s so strong yet gentle somehow? - doesn’t put up a fight, and I take a seat beside her. Toni directs her next question to me with a look and a pointing finger. “You want ice cream?”
“Uhhhh.” I don’t know why I do this. I don’t know what prompts it, but I look at Birch, who’s staring at her ice cream, and ask, “Is it good?”
I force myself not to cringe over the fact I did that as I watch her look up at me. “Hm? Oh, the - the ice cream?” She shrugs and offers a little smile. “It’s chocolate fudge brownie so, yeah, it’s pretty good.”
I smile at her. I hope it’s not as dopey as I think it is because she’s just so…I can’t explain it. I don’t know what’s gotten over me, but one look at this girl, and I feel like I’m caught in her orbit or something. This shining star with shoulder length blonde hair and blue eyes that show why summer is magical has captured my full attention with a look. A look! This is something I need to look into more. I need to spend more time with this girl.
No, but wait, this is crazy, right? I just met her; I just learned her name. And suddenly I’m thinking crazy things like I’m stuck in her orbit. How cheesy is that?
…But it’s true.
Still Day X - Evening - Project Shut Down Reinstated
As Toni sets the ice cream in front of me, I manage to catch her eye with a pointed look, making sure Birch isn’t looking at us. She’s taking a bite of her ice cream. “Thanks, Toni,” my voice says, and I mean it. But I’m altogether trying to say something else.
Her face is priceless, and I know she’s caught the message I threw at her. She raises an eyebrow at me, and I know what it means. Broken hearts club, remember?
I pull out my phone and shoot a quick text.
Ryness Gracious: Help me become her friend. That’s a start.
She hesitates, and I can feel my heart rate spike. Why? I don’t know.
Ryness Gracious: Please? I get she just broke up with someone, and I know this sounds crazy to do. I get it. Just help me learn how to be her friend. That’s all.
And the good wingwoman that she is moves forward. “Birch,” she softly as she takes her seat, “Ryland is the middle school teacher friend I told you about.”
Birch looks up from her ice cream and gives Toni a curious look. Her eyes glance towards me for a split second before looking back to our mutual friend. Is…is she blushing? “Really? So you’re the coolest science teacher in the building I’ve heard about?”
Now it’s my turn to blush, and I almost drop my spoon. “Oh well I umm, I don’t - I don’t know about that.”
“He’s being modest,” Toni waves dismissively with her right hand as she digs into her ice cream with the left hand. “He’s worked hard to not only be the coolest but to be one who makes science make sense. Something we bonded over. STEM has gotten a bad rep over the years in the school system, and we wanted to help change that. He’s still going strong with it.”
Birch thinks it over for a moment before asking me, “Do the kids give you a hard time?”
I can’t help but smile as I shake my head and think of my kids. “No, I wouldn’t say that. They’re cool. I think so anyway. They’re just misunderstood most of the time. The preteen years are hard enough as it is, you know? And they can tell when you really care about them. That means something to them.”
Birch smiles softly at me, and my belly is all a flutter with butterflies. Lots of butterflies. “It sounds like you really do care.”
I can’t help but give a small shrug and a little smile as I nod. “I care a lot.”
In my peripheral vision, I see Toni look between us as a small smile crosses her face. She catches my eye before subtly tilting her head towards Birch and giving me a look I had seen before from my wingwoman. I know the drill now.
“So Birch,” I mumble out after I collect some confidence from my friend’s encouraging smile. For some reason, a question slips into my head instead of the typical What do you do question and I instead go with, “this might sound silly but uh, what stirs your passions?”
Birch gives me a thoughtful look and a smile. Toni just eats her ice cream with a triumphant smile on her face.
6 Weeks Later - Morning - Project Findings
It’s not the first time I’ve woken up on my couch, all nice and cozy and comfortable, but it is the first time I’m waking up not alone.
Birch is better than a weighted blanket, all 5’2 inches of her. She’s lying on my chest with her blonde head tucked into the crook of my neck, and my arms are wrapped around her waist, holding her close to me. We fell asleep not long after one of her favorite movies ended. I feel pretty confident she didn’t make it through the end, but I conked out very shortly afterwards when I realized she was asleep.
I don’t dare move. I let her sleep as long as she can, and I’m honestly too content and comfortable as we are to wanna move anyway. The sun is having a hard time seeping into the apartment because of the fog outside, and to me, it really can’t get better than this.
This is why Toni told me to hold onto hope. These kinds of results? Yeah, I’d work hard for these results any day.
She starts to stir in my arms, but I don’t move. I don’t say a word; I just hold her close and let her wake up naturally. At some point, I feel a soft kiss to my neck that makes my heart do that fun pitter patter I’m still not used to yet, and I smile a dopey smile. “Mornin’, sweetheart,” I hum out.
“Mornin’, love,” she sleepily replies. She doesn’t move, save for the kiss, and neither do I.
“Sleep well?”
She practically purrs in my arms as she snuggles closer. “Best sleep I’ve had in a long time. You?”
“I don’t remember the last time I slept better,” I tell her and it’s the honest truth. It’s the most peaceful night’s sleep I’ve had in ages. In fact, the last month of my life has been amazing.
“Good,” she answers softly before she shifts on my chest so she can lift up a little to look at me. She gives me a warm, loving smile, and I’m practically putty in her hands because of that smile alone. “Where are your glasses?”
I remove a hand from her waist just long enough to point above my head towards the end table. “There they are,” I say before returning my hand to its rightful place.
“Oh I see.” She reaches over to collect them, and then she carefully slides them into place on my face.
I release a soft, happy hum. “Most perfect view to wake up to,” I all but whisper, and she blushes at the compliment. I love that blush. I love the bashful smile that usually accompanies it. I just love her.
“I’d have to agree,” she says softly, pulling me out of my thoughts and effectively making me feel completely lovesick.
We just stare at each other like that for a moment, lost in soft thoughts and lovesick emotions before I say, “I’d offer to cook you breakfast, but I’m terrible in the kitchen. I could practically do rocket science, but I can’t cook to save my life.”
She giggles softly before giving the tip of my nose a kiss. That’s new, and it produces a deep blush and another dopey grin from me. “Don’t worry, Dr. Grace,” she answers cheekily, “I excel in the kitchen. I can handle breakfast if you’d prefer.”
I smile and chuckle. “Since you’re offering, sweetheart, you’ve got me curious. I’d like that very much. But first,” one of my hands moves to cup the back of her head to slowly pull her down to me, “I want to start my morning off right.” She giggles and obliges as my lips find hers.
So Ken... I know you're at the Real World Beach right now...
But I think you ought to know - I love the mountains. They are my home. And I was thinking, it's pretty cool how we both love horses, right? Like we both think they're pretty darn awesome.
Well, all of the cowboy shows and movies I've watched are all set out west in the Rocky Mountains, not Beach. So... I kind of drew us in my favorite westerny vibe? Think... Yellowstone!
I... hope you like it? ...yeah, we have matching belt buckles...
*gasp!* I - I - I - you - that’s me and - and you! And - and….
*so very stunned and touched* You - you - you drew me and you together in a picture?? With pretty mountains and - and some like totally awesome outfits and - and - and MATCHING BELT BUCKLES?!?!
I’m so - I’m - like - my dude - Horse Bestie Barbie like - like you made like my whole year!
*hugs art to my chest* This is literally like the most wonderful and bestest thing anyone has ever given me like EVER like…. *pulls art back to look at it* That’s us. That’s me with my friend.
*getting choked up* I mean like…I knew we’re friends but like I…I totally didn’t realize…like you value our friendship as much as I do I just…. I mean like I - I kinda have bad icky feelings about some things like that like - like friends don’t umm see me like I see them and stuff but like you…you aren’t like that. You see me like I see you and you really do like value our friendship.
I’m like…so very happy I know you, Horse Bestie Barbie. Thank you.
I- I'm on like episode 131 and it's after the T family has their nice lil hospital convo with the top 3, ya know what I'm talking about?
So now I'm here. With thoughts. About a certain crispy pretzel man. Yes. Yah. You know what I'm thinking. I have yet to search his x reader tag and I'M AFRAID STAR. GIVE ME COURAGE.
I do not understand how I'm feeling towards him after not having ever liked him. It's the villain perspective that gets me😭 it's what happened with Zeke and then I freaking SIMP AND I CAN'T.
HALLLPPPPPP
BIRCH IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO GET TO THIS ASK AND FOR THAT I APOLOGIZE! I swear I didn’t mean to leave you hanging for so long 😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
But on the other hand... *ahem* Dabi x reader tag *ahem*
Oh my dear, we have so much to discuss. The villains are always the ones to simp for, and I know you’ve been through the same thing with Zeke 😂 Do not be afraid my dear, search the tags and let your imagination run wild!
Come to the dark side, we have cookies and Dabi and smut! 😈 and also a side of traumatic pasts and tears and overall angst but I promise it’s a good time all around 😅
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Levi slamming you into a wall with your back to his chest while he rails you with one hand around your throat ✋
Fuck, yes.
One hand clamps your wrists together, pinning them to the space above your head. You’re anchored to the slate, anchored to him.
One hand around your throat. At each of his fingertips is a particular pressure - the first of five bruises are beginning to dawn.
Thrusts at your hips are accelerating - faster, harder. The smacking of skin and slamming of plaster is getting louder as your breaths grow fainter.
Does he love you? Hate you? Is he trying to provide pleasure or pain? The dwindling intake of oxygen, it’s getting harder and harder to tell.
Even more confusing when he growls, intensity, arousal, maybe both, “Look at you, huh?” A single breathless chuckle, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Your touch runs hot - he can feel your embarrassment - a silent and guilty yes.
His fucking turns relentless now, plummeting deep into you, reaching places you never knew existed, never knew needed his touch so bad.
“Tch… such a filthy brat.”
Even as your climaxes start to peak, he won’t stop squeezing until he feels your veins press into his palm - against his fingers - all in the struggle to do as you’re told, screaming as you cum - I’m yours. I’m yours!!
