#I haven’t slept well and so I’m like all over the place but hugs to you my dear

[synthetickitsune]

Full Stomach, Full Heart ✧ w.jh

Pairing: Wen Junhui x reader (gn) Genre: angst, hints of comfort Summary: What was the last thing you ate, actually? Yet better question would be when was the last time you ate a full, nutritious meal. You don’t think you can remember though. And you know Jun will hate to hear it. Word count: 2.2k Warnings: food struggles, mentions of reader not eating properly

You feel something’s wrong within the first hour after waking up. Deeply wrong, but you’re equally deep in denial, so you write it off as a side effect of getting up too early and immediately scrolling on your phone, so you go back to sleep. When you wake up again, you’re not really sure you slept at all. Somehow, though, the time has passed too quickly for you to just be spacing out in bed. You need to get up. 

The feeling is still there, a weight on your chest and your mind feels like it’s clouded by a thick fog. Your bones feel heavy. Just standing feels uncomfortable and draining. You get some water and crawl back into bed. A text from your boyfriend is waiting for you, wishing you a good morning and asking if you’ve eaten yet. Your stomach churns at the idea of eating, so you ignore the text in favor of more sleep. 

Only sleep just won’t come. Not for long anyway. It’s all brief flashes of unconsciousness that leave you disoriented and tired once you wake up. Switching between unsuccessful attempts of napping and mindless scrolling on your phone, with some spacing out on the side, time passes. You try to make yourself get up again and do something, try to guilt yourself into being productive, all without result. Nothing works, nothing feels right.

You can’t tell what’s wrong exactly, but somehow it feels like everything is. It makes you upset, most of all with yourself. There is nothing that needs to get done, however you can come up with a list of a hundred things that you could get done if only you dragged yourself out of bed. There’s no reason you should be like this, you tell yourself. It is what it is, you tell yourself next and close your eyes again.

Without your permission, time passes. It slips away from you, then forcefully reminds you of its existence when your phone starts to ring.

It’s Jun.

“Hey,” you whisper. You hope he heard over the commotion around him. Suddenly you realize you really hate people today. Staying in bed seems even more appealing. Nobody is going to bother you here.

“Are you alright?” Jun cuts straight to chase. His voice is kind but laced with worry. “You never responded to my text.”

Oh. Shit.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess I am,” you hesitate a little, “Just don’t feel too good.”

You can see the frown on his face when you close your eyes and focus on the brief pause. The background noise, the voices, get distant and quiet. Somewhere on the other end of the line, a door clicks shut.

“‘Not good’ as in…?” he asks and you sigh. Worrying your lip between your teeth, you regret being honest in the first place. Just a little. But then again if you haven’t told him, he’d drive himself crazy with worry and that’s the last thing he needs during practice.

“I just don’t feel much of anything,” you admit, “I’m just really tired. I don’t want to do anything, don’t wanna talk to anyone.”

He hums in sympathy. It makes something warm flicker in your chest. You can imagine the hug he’d give you if he was here - enveloping, like the world doesn’t exist, his hand cradling your head, the other on the small of your back pulling you close with just the perfect amount of force. He’d hold you until something made him let go, and then still kiss you and promise to be right back.

“I’m sorry I called,” he whispers, “I just got worried.”

“No, I don’t mind you,” you reassure him even as every word drains more energy out of your already exhausted body, “You don’t count.”

“Why thank you,” you hear the smile in his voice. It’s natural for you to smile as well without thinking, if only you had the energy too. Regret wells up in your chest, even though Jun won’t know about this little turmoil. “Have you eaten?”

Your heart pauses for a beat. The answer is clear, but what was the last thing you ate, actually? Probably just instant noodles or something like that. Better question would be when was the last time you ate a full, nutritious meal. You don’t think you can remember though. And you know Jun will hate to hear it.

“...no,” you admit quietly. You curl under the blanket. He might get disappointed and worried but he won’t yell at you, you know that, yet it still feels uncomfortable. The silence drags on and leaves you suspended in anxiety. You beg him to talk inside your head, to say anything - to snap at you, anything will do. Just not the silence.

“y/n, it’s so late…” he says and you know he’s not scolding you, that he’s as gentle as he can be, but it still sounds like you’re getting scolded.

“I know,” you murmur, “I’m not hungry though.”

It’s an understatement. The idea of eating itself makes your stomach churn. And maybe it’s hunger in disguise, maybe. Most likely. You know you should eat. Food feels repulsive, though.

“You need to eat,” he insists, quietly, still gentle. You can hear the change in his voice when he adds: “I’ve been busy a lot, huh?”

“Jun…” you shake your head, “It’s not your fault. I need to take care of myself.”

“I want to be there for you when you’re not feeling well,” there’s a moment where his voice gets higher. You can imagine the lightbulb appearing above his head and it makes you slightly concerned. “I’m gonna help.”

“Wait, no-”

“Shh, no arguing,” he shushes you. You can hear his voice get more distant. “I’ll order you some food. A lot of it. So you can choose.”

You whine.

“I don’t wanna see anyone. Please. I promise I’ll eat later, just not now,” you try to change his mind. It’s pointless, you’re well aware that Jun is the most stubborn when your wellbeing is concerned. The silence on the other end of the line, occasionally broken by tapping noises as your boyfriend’s fingers dance across the screen, tells you resistance is hopeless. Still you try.

“I don’t want to go anywhere to pick up the food. I won’t even go downstairs,” you warn him,

“I won’t pick up the phone if anyone calls. I won’t talk to anyone,” you sulk.

“Jun, please forget about it-”

“Will you cook?” he interrupts you, a slight edge to his voice. You shrivel under the blanket.

“No but-”

“Are there any leftovers you can heat up?”

“No, Jun-”

“Don’t ‘no Jun’ me,” he sighs, “I’m gonna figure this out, okay? Don’t worry.”

Before you can ask for an explanation, beg him to let it go, anything, he hangs up. You groan and pull at your hair. It’s pointless to argue with Jun, however, and although you’re frustrated you know you can trust him. So you return to numbly lying on bed.

It’s some time later that you’re woken up - from sleep or daydreaming, you have no idea - by a text. You frown and pick up the phone, already annoyed. Who dares to bother you now?

Joshua: hey i’m downstairs so don’t get creeped out when i come in with the food

Joshua: if you're awake

Joshua: if not - sorry! ><

…what?

You don’t have much time to process what’s happening before you hear the code being put in and the doors opening. You’re tempted to pretend you’re not home but also what the fuck is he doing here? Taking a quick look at Jun’s messy hoodie and sweats you’re wearing, you ultimately decide that it’s not your fault Joshua’s going to see you like this. He came in uninvited. So much for not talking to anyone. You get up and groggily walk out of the room and look for the intruder.

You find him in the kitchen… putting food containers on the table?

“Hey,” he greets you softly with a friendly smile without pausing his actions.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, confusion written all over your face. Your arms are wrapped around your body protectively. Joshua doesn’t even look at you as he meticulously takes everything out of the bag.

“That’s my line. You should be in bed” he chuckles. Finally he looks up and upon seeing you don’t get the situation at all, he shakes his head with a small laugh.

“Jun said you’re not feeling well,” he explains, “So he asked if anyone could bring you food while you rest. Are you okay to eat now or should I put it in the fridge?”

You stop yourself from screaming aloud. And sighing. And hitting your head against the wall.

“Thank you,” you say instead, “It really wasn’t necessary.”

“No problem,” Joshua smiles at you again, “So?”

“I’ll eat in a bit,” you decide, relaxing slightly. You don’t feel like eating if you’re being honest but you also think the nausea starting to kick in is caused by hunger at this point. You should make yourself eat. Somehow.

“Okay. Do you need anything else? Medicine, dessert?” he jokes and you roll your eyes at him even though the target should really be Junhui.  

“I’m fine, thank you,” you try to smile at him despite your irritated mood. You make a mental note to thank Joshua again and apologize later because he leaves as quickly as he came. You should also talk to your boyfriend about using his friends as couriers.

Speaking of which…

Your phone rings again the moment you sit down and angrily stab the utensil into the closest container. You really can’t be bothered to use dishes that you’d have to wash later.

You accept the call and put your boyfriend on speaker.

“Hi… Joshua texted me he dropped off the food?” Jun sounds timid, careful almost.

“Yeah, he did,” you play with the food without raising any to your lips, “I hope you paid him.”

“No, but I owe him one,” he chuckles, still tense, “You know how he is.”

You hum. You do. But that still doesn’t mean your boyfriend should take advantage of his friend’s kindness to bring you food when he’s too busy. It’s not like any of them ever have too much time on their hands to be doing this.

“I… I just thought it would be okay this way,” his voice softens, “That you could avoid social interaction but still get the food delivered. I told Shua to leave you alone.”

You hum again. Not that you mind talking to Jun, he’s always the only exception, but you’re tired. And hungry, yet the idea of picking up the food, chewing, swallowing just seems so exhausting.

“I’m sorry,” Jun’s voice drops into a whisper, “But you need to eat.”

“I know,” you murmur, “And thank you. It’s just I really don’t feel like it even though I’m so hungry right now.”

It’s quiet on the other side for a moment, and then you hear him talking away from the phone - asking Soonyoung for a short break. You can’t hear what the response is but the next thing you hear is the door closing and Jun’s fast steps.

“What happened?” you ask, smiling a little as you imagine your boyfriend speeding through the corridors.

“I’ll facetime you in a bit, yeah? We can eat together,” his voice is full of determination and confidence that you don’t share.

“You’re going to eat in the middle of practice?” your eyebrow raises on its own.

“...Yes.”

There’s another slight pause.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Sure,” you chuckle. You still haven’t found the will to take a bite. Sharing a meal with Jun sounds nice, though. It’s highly unlikely it’s actually going to help with the predicament you’re in but the idea really is nice.

“You don’t have to eat much, I won’t either,” he coaxes you softly. You hear more doors opening and closing. Then something that sounds like a fridge and him rummaging around. “Just eat something, yeah?”

“I’ll try,” you promise.

“I’ll turn on the camera now,” Jun warns while he, at least judging by the sound, puts the food in the microwave. 

You just admire his pretty face while he waits for the food to warm up and try to push down the nausea. It’s hunger, it must be. But it does nothing to help you feel like eating. Your boyfriend yaps on about his day so far, about the practice, whines a little about how hard the new choreo is. It’s soothing, comforting. Ultimately, though, it doesn’t help much.

New wave of guilt washes over you when he sits down with his food and looks at you hopefully. You need to eat. You really need to. If for no other reason, then at least so that he doesn’t worry and can fully focus on the practice.

Finally you force your hands to move, your lips to open and your jaws to chew the first bite. Jun’s bright smile feels much better than the food you swallow.

“There we go,” he whispers to himself, trying to bite back the smile as he digs into his own lunch. You hear it anyway.

You smile a little too as you fight against your head to share a meal with him.

[eureka-its-zico]

is it normal to feel insecure about ur own writing when u read others works esp the way they are able to portray the same character you are writing about but like in a much better way :(( I was motivated to write but I'm stuck in this weird crisis :(

Osiyo, Nonnie,

First and foremost, before I write anything else, I just want to remind you writing should be fun. If you are having a good time writing or working on something, a character, or anything that you absolutely love please don’t let negativity from yourself or others ever make you feel any kind of way.

I know it’s easier said then done. We can be the harshest critics to ourselves. I know I am constantly thinking my writing is trash, and yes, I’ve read fics written by other creators that instantly just completely made me feel inferior and wonder, “why even bother posting when a story like that is out there?”

Let me tell you: your story, whatever it maybe, deserves to be read. Your hard work will be appreciated by myself or others able to recognize the courage it takes to even be willing to share your idea, let alone a story you created. Just because we may feel like what we’ve written is inferior to someone else, or not the same quality, does not make it true. People will read it and enjoy it and I for one would love to see what you’ve written.

Writing is hard, especially when writing established characters, but it should never stop being fun.

I’m not sure if that helped at all but I sincerely hope it helped just a little. Please, keep being motivated and I’m always here to do what I can. Much love 🖤

[kaisturni]

rope bunny (pillow princess pt 2) | c. sturniolo

→ chris x fem!reader

→ plot; after your first night with chris, you do your best to stay out of the radar of his brothers. when you two return back to your room after filming, chris has a kink he wants to work out with you.

→ includes; smut, unprotected sex, restraining, f! oral, getting caught (kinda), creampie, angst if you squint, light fluff

→ a/n; i was going to post tomorrow but i could not WAIT hope i did it justice for everyone since this is my most loved fic (out of three lol but still crazy) and this one’s for the horny freaky FUCKS, ur just like me and i’m just like u, enjoy 🙈

NOT PROOFREAD

——————————————————————————

i opened my eyes and squint, adjusting to the bright sun entering the room. i’m still naked, still hugging chris, and still buzzed from the events of last night.

he’s already on his phone, and when he notices that i’m awake and looking at him, he smiles and peppers kisses all over my face,

“mornin’ baby,” placing the last kiss on my lips, making sure this one was longer than the others.

“good morning, how did you sleep?” i ask while stretching, the blanket slipping down, exposing my bare chest.

chris bites his lip lightly, “slept good, feeling even better now,” he whispers into my ear, taking a hand and squeezing.

i do my best to not groan at his action, since the day has just started, “chris! seriously? not right now!” i laugh, slightly pushing him away and crawling out of bed to get myself into the shower.

he frowns at the loss of contact, “sorry i just cant help mysel- are you showering? can i come with???” he pleads after watching me grab a towel and shuffle to the bathroom,

as much as i want to get in to the shower with him right now, i know were in a rush and we have places to be with nick and matt, and i don’t think we need them on our trail with both of us coming out of the room with wet hair.

“didn’t you shower last night? plus we have to get going in 20, that’s not enough time for-“

“for what?” he smirks,

“nothing, it’s just not enough time!” i half yell, slamming the bathroom door. honestly, the fact that he’s so needy already is cute.

it makes me wonder how he’s going to act when we’re with nick and matt. is it going to be awkward? obvious? are they going to clock us right away and never speak to me again? i shudder at my own imagination. i guess we’ll find out today.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

they haven’t picked up on anything.

which is good, because chris and i aren’t exactly doing a very good job at keeping a low profile.

he’s been stealing kisses from me all day; whenever the camera is not on, we’ll find ourselves trailing behind the group just to give each other a few quick pecks,

even sitting next to me and squeezing my thighs under the table when we go out to eat, laughing when he sees me trying to control myself under his touch.

“we’ve got to get going to the driskill now, is everyone ready?” nick asks, and we all nod following him out of the restaurant and to the hotel.

of course, chris and i “unintentionally” trail to the back again, holding hands and kissing behind his oblivious brothers.

that is, until matt turns his head around just as chris is about to kiss me again, and we have to almost rip apart at his eye contact.

“jesus, what’s wrong with you two??” matt questions with a chuckle, with good reason because i’m obviously extremely startled by almost getting caught.

“nothing, i was just saying something to scare her before we got to the hotel,” chris says nonchalantly, the lie slipping off his tongue easily.

“well i don’t want to know, i’m already fucking terrified,” nick chimes in, thankfully not turning around and continuing to keep his eyes ahead of him.

matt agrees, and they carry their own conversation, forgetting about us. chris gives me a little wink and a quick peck on the side of the head, both of us in a silent agreement not to try anything to close to them, it not being worthy the risk.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

we’ve been filming for about an hour or two at this point, we end up in a room where sam and colby decide this is where we’re doing the estes method.

“okay so y/n and nick can go first, just sit over on that couch put these blindfolds and headphone on and you’ll start hearing words playing back to you,” sam tells us while handing nick and i our gear.

chris watches me without even blinking while i put my blindfold on, and i stare back at him until i see nothing.

nick and i do it for about 10 minutes and we were able to get some good stuff for their video,

“matt and chris, how about y’all try it next” colby says as nick and i unblind ourselves.

i hand chris my blindfold and he bends down to my level, “you look so fucking sexy with a blindfold on, remind me to steal those from them later,” he whispers and smiles devilishly, taking the blindfold from my hands and claiming my spot.

i can feel my heart rate pick up at both his comment and our proximity to the others, it seems like he really does not care about getting caught; or he just lives for the thrill of it.

now that him and matt have the blindfolds on, chris starts man spreading, bucking his hips upwards and throwing his head back.

this man knows exactly what he’s fucking doing.

every word he says is in a low, slow voice, and i’m sure he’s laughing in his head at the vision of me squirming at what he’s doing.

him and matt finish, chris taking matt’s blindfold from him, “i can put these away for you guys,” he says to colby, and he thanks him and the group starts walking towards the bathroom.

i look back at chris and he’s shoving the blindfolds into his pocket, bringing his index finger to his lips, giving me a silent hush. my breath hitches and i don’t want to even let myself get hot and bothered by what he could be having in store for me later.

the fantasy that almost begins to brew in my head is flushed by nick and matt's whispers ahead of me.

“i don’t know, it’s weird!”

“i don’t believe you for a second.”

“i swear, i don’t know what happened last night, but something is going on between them,”

i feel my heart sink to my stomach the second i hear those words come out of matt’s mouth. he must have suspected something when we were walking to the hotel. were we being that obvious the whole day? i can’t even remember at this point.

i can feel my heart race and breath pick up, anxiety seeping through my body before i feel a hand on my shoulder,

“you good?” chris looks at me, a worried expression on his face.

the last thing i want to do is make him worry about his brother’s speculations, so i give him a half hearted smile,

“yes, just tired that’s all,” his eyes search my face,

“me too, it’s okay we’ll be done filming soon,” he pats my shoulder lightly and turns to talk to his brothers. i’m jealous of how calm he’s able to be with the way he’s asking. it’s not like i’m the one who’s being risky, but it sure as hell feels like it does.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

it’s around one in the morning when we say goodbye to sam and colby and start heading back to our own hotel.

i decided to walk with nick instead of chris, and even then i can feel matt’s eyes burning into the back of my head.

i do my best to actually keep eye contact with him whenever he looks at me just so i can show i don’t have the “we both know i’m with your brother” expression on my face.

“goodnight, we’ll see you guys tomorrow to check out thrifts and shit,” chris starts, before beginning to walk in the direction of our room.

“what? i thought we were all going to hang in our room for a little,” nick asks, looking at me confused,

“nah, y/n told me she’s super tired and i don’t want to keep her up if i come in late, right, y/n?”

god he’s so fucking good on the spot it drives me nuts.

“yeah i’m exhausted, all that ghost hunting has me beat, but don’t worry nick i promise shopping tomorrow will make up for it,” i say,

“keep your promise missy!”

i salute him before giving nick an arm hug and walking away as we blow each other a kiss.

chris keys us in to our room, while looking back at me with a sweet smile and kisses me on the cheek,

“m’lady,” he says while ushering me to go in, causing me to roll my eyes and giggle.

i don’t even have time to think before chris slams me into the door of the room and pushes his lips into mine.

we moan into each others mouths, his arms snaking around my waist and mine wrapping around his neck on cue.

“fuck, i’ve been needing you all day, i don’t know how i waited this long,” chris says breaking the contact between our mouths and moving his lips down to my neck with a trail of sloppy kisses,

“jump,” he demands, and i do and he holds my legs in place around his legs,

“chris,” i breathe out, unable to come up with complete sentences to say.

he moves his lips back up to mine, and without breaking our kiss lays me down on the bed, himself still standing over me.

chris breaks away fast and harsh, i look at him slightly confused,

“what’s wrong? what are you do-oh my god,”

chris pulls out both blindfolds he stole while we were filming, which i had entirely forgotten about. honestly i thought he just put them in his pocket for the theatrics, but i was dead wrong.

“thought i forgot about these, huh? i couldn’t get the sight of you with it on out of my head,” he says while removing my top then kissing the part of my breasts that are exposed through my bra.

“i couldn’t decide if i wanted to blindfold you or tie you up with it, so i decided on both. now strip,” he stands up tall and holds the silky fabric between his hands, wrapping it around his left knuckles.

i do as i’m told and i get completely naked, sinking to the ground in front him.

he takes his top layers off until he’s standing there in just pants, eyes dark and peering down at me.

i can feel myself quickly getting soaked, and chris grabs my throat and pulls me up closer to his level,

“you’re gonna do as i say, got that baby?” i nod vigorously, and he motions for me to lay on the bed.

“put your arms pretty girl,” he husks, kissing up my naked body before tying my wrists together in a bow above my head.

“i didn’t think you would be into this kind of thing, christopher,” i purr at him, watching chris bite his lip at my comment,

“i’m mainly just in to you, and since you’re mine i get to try anything i want with you, right?” he says, dipping down to suck on my nipple.

the feeling causes me to moan and squeeze my legs together, aching for him to absolutely fuck me senseless.

“r-right,” i say in a breathless agreement, and he gives me that devilish smile once again.

“good. now just lay back and enjoy it all baby,” he brings the blindfold up to my face and i lift my head so he can tie it around my head.

immediately i feel his hand go between my soaking core, causing me to arch my back even his gentle touch,

“you’re already so wet, you make it so hard to not fuck you so quick,” his voice rings into my ears like a melody as his two fingers enter me with ease.

“oh fuck, mmm…chris-“ i wriggle in my makeshift handcuffs when he curls his fingers with each pump, hitting the perfect spot every single time.

he removes his fingers from inside me, and i groan at the void of the pleasure that was building up inside me.

suddenly he pushes my legs further apart, and i gasp when i feel his mouth sucking on my clit.

pornographic moans echo in the room, and he buries his face deeper into my pussy, vibrations of his moans sending me further into a frenzy.

i’d give fucking anything to grip on to his hair right now, but since that option was taken away from me i’m left squirming under his touch, feeling the knots in my stomach grow tighter by the minute.

“shit right there, don’t fucking stop please,” i feel like i’m going to explode as he goes between sucking on my clit and giving fast licks to it on the tip of his tongue.

“how could i? you taste so sweet, y/n, god i love your pussy in my face,” he says before immediately going back to his attack on my core.

“b-baby i’m so close,” i practically scream out,

“let it all out f’me pretty girl,” he mumbled against me, and i release all over, feelings my legs trembling over my high.

i feel chris’ soaking wet mouth on my lips again, tasting myself as he explores my mouth with his.

he breaks away and i inhale deeply, picking up the sounds of his belt and the undoing of a zipper.

i feel his dick rub between me a few times before he immediately starts thrusting, holding my hips in place for his movement.

“ah chris! too much, too much!” i groan, my body still aching and the overstimulation well washed on me.

“no, take it—take it like the good girl i know you are,” he says, not breaking a rhythm of the pace of him slamming into me.

our moans meet once again, and his roughness only takes me further on the path to another orgasm.

he only moves his body to kiss me, rough and hard like his own movements.

“fuck y/n, i’m not lasting long with you,” he whimpers out, and i cant even focus on the words he’s saying because of the fire ready to burst inside of me.

“chris i-i’m gonna c-cum again,” i manage to say barely above a whisper, i’m so fucked out that even breathing is a challenge at this point.

“cum with me,” he says, his thrusts becoming sloppier, and we both reach out highs, feelings myself becoming warm with my own and his juices mixing inside of me.

chris removed the blindfold around my wrists and face, his tired eyes meeting mine.

he kisses all over my face with slow, gentle presses, “how was that?” he asks, then kissing the tip of my nose once more.

it’s insane how much of a different person chris turns into when we fuck.

“it was so good chris, thank you,” i say before reaching for my phone and crawling back on top of the bed.

chris joins me, and i lay on his body with my leg thrown over him; gently scratching my leg.

i notice i’m at low battery, thinking to get a charger, but immediately groaning in annoyance.

“what, what’s wrong?”

“i left my charger in their room. can you go get it? they must think i’m asleep by now,” i ask with doe eyes.

i know he’s going to do it anyway, but what’s the fun without teasing?

he laughs, “well since you asked so nicely,” he says before pecking my cheek,

“i can, i’ll be right back,”

i hum in response and he gets up, throwing just his boxers and a robe on.

i don’t bother putting on any clothes yet, but i do make myself comfortable in the blanket of the bed.

i close my eyes and hear the door open,

“okay WHAT the fuck.”

my eyes shoot open as i see matt and nick looking straight at me, horror filling both of their eyes.

chris is in a robe, i’m still very obviously naked, and there’s the stolen blindfolds on the bed; it’s not a good look.

i don’t even know what to say, the ringing in my ears beginning, feeling like i’m going to pass out.

why are they even here? were they listening? waiting?

i’m so full of embarrassment and anger, that i can’t even control myself.

“GET OUT, ALL OF YOU GET OUT!” i scream, and all of them look at me in shocked silence while i take the heap of blanket out of the bed with me and shove chris out of the room into the hallway with nick and matt.

it isn’t his fault, but it kind of is. for some reason i’m not really angry with him, more so at the situation. all of this could’ve been avoided if we just said something sooner and that’s what makes me feel the worst.

i quickly change into a pair of chris’ sweats and my own tshirt, rubbing my face into my palms as i brace myself to open the door again.

“y/n-“ matt starts,

“so you think it’s okay to fucking listen in on us through the door like a creep? what is wrong with you!” i yell, feeling the tears begin to pool into my eyes,

“no, no! that’s not what happened, we came because-“

“i heard what you said at the driskill!”

“what?” chris looks at the two confused, and they just ignore his expression and relay their focus back to me,

“y/n, we were just joking around. we came to bring you your charger that you left in my bag. anyway, we didn’t think actually anything was going on between you two.” nick starts calmly, allowing my own temper to mellow out with his soft speaking.

“yeah, we were just messing around. but obviously there was some… truth to it,” matt finishes.

chris sits silently next to me on the bed rubbing my back while i bury my face in my hands in shame.

“i’m so sorry guys, i don’t want you to fucking hate me for this, especially you nick; we were friends first,” i lightly sob into my hands and nick sits down on the other side of me,

“hey no, i, we, could never hate you for dating our brother— you guys are like, dating now right?” he says, looking at chris with raised eyebrows,

and i look at him, knowing we’re more that just fuck buddies; he said so himself. but just out of the curiosity of what he will say to his own brothers.

“of course we are,” we smile at each other and i turn back to nick,

“then i’m happy for you both. just remind me to fucking rip my ears and eyes out after hearing, and SEEING what i just witnessed,” he exclaims, throwing his hands up and closing his eyes, trying to shake the memories from his head.

“oh GOD, please tell me you didn’t hear much?” i look at him and matt with pleading eyes,

“don’t worry, just the OHHH CHRIS, IM GONNA CUM!” matt mocks him; nick groaning in disgust and chris and i turning red at his words.

“okay okay, thank you guys now get out, and don’t stick around uninvited,” chris says, getting up and opening the door for them.

“hope you guys will actually be fuckin asleep when we see you next!” nick says, the door following soon behind him.

chris takes a deep sign, “well, that was out sooner than later. are you okay?”

“yeah, i am. i’m glad they know now, i don’t know how long we could’ve kept this up without them knowing,” i say,

he plays with the end of my hair, “me too, i never want to keep you a secret,” he gives me a half crooked smile,

i kiss him gently and wrap my arms around him, his presence safe and calming.

“thank you, chris. i do need to shower though, i’m still… covered,” i say, collecting a towel and some of chris’ clothes he’s been letting me borrow.

“can i come with this time?”

“chris!”

——————————————————————————

@chrizzpiecreme @viiiwwwee @mattsbrowser @anna-sturniolo @kellynlovesmatt

[irndad]

hi im back! okey so def can see spencer still wanting to hug and snuggle with you even when fighting or mad at each other. he even gets genuinely ??? confused ??? when you try to sleep on the couch instead of in bed at night. he holds you and either reader or him is like "i know we are snuggling right now but i am still super pissed off at you." lol i can just see it. he may be petty when mad but he wont stop trying to touch you bc its a biological need of his and no argument is more important than needing you 🥺

enjoy this I did it very fast!!!! ily

He knows he’s not easy to be with sometimes. She would never say it, but it’s true. He doesn’t always get the jokes, sometimes pushes things too far and without even knowing it the ground gets pulled out from under him. 

And sleep- Sleep is so complicated. The memory of the first time she slept in his bed is etched into a place he could never erase. Spencer had always had trouble sleeping, either fear or alertness plaguing him into the late hours of the night. He used to lie awake, the kind of exhausted that feels like it’s seeping out of your bones, while constantly facts he’d unwittingly memorized about how sleep deprivation can cause brain damage. 

But then she’d come into his life. All soft words and gentle disposition, and there really is something magic about the way that everything just dissipates when her warm, soft body curves into his own. He’s slept well almost every night since. 

Except today, she isn’t coming to bed. 

It’s his fault, and he knows it. He wasn’t being fair. She hadn’t seen him for two weeks (and he hadn’t slept nearly enough without the weight of her form beside him since the last time he saw her) and she’d said that she wanted to be prioritized more. 

“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Spence!”

His head was killing him. Was it actually possible, for a headache to kill you? Her voice is audibly upset, and it’s alarming how he could be the cause of it. 

“Please,” he had said through labored effort, “Can we talk about this later?” 

“When would you like to talk about it? Because I don’t ever know if you’re leaving-“

“Do you even know what it is that I do?  That it’s not a choice for me to go? I have to do this. I can’t pick and choose and honestly, I don’t want to. If you don’t get that, we’re not doing what I thought we were doing.”

It sounds foreign, his own voice. And it’s after he’s said it that the sick taste reaches his throat because oh, that means the end. Her lovely face is unreadable for a brief moment, before something like grief splays over her expression.

It’s silent for a beat, and Spencer wishes he could swallow the words back up, rewind his life like a battered VHS tape where he’s not so stupid to mess up the one thing that’s ever brought him peace.

“You’re not yourself, Spencer. I’m gonna give you a minute.”

A minute, it turns out, is hours in the living room. She hadn’t left, thank fucking god, but she hadn’t come back. Of course she hadn’t. She wasn’t the one who needed to apologize. 

He’s just so tired. 

He thinks of her so-sweet voice, the curve of cheek- the junction of her neck and shoulder, and how much he would like to have her pressed against him. He pads out into the living room like a nervous puppy, and sees her sleeping on the olive green couch she had picked out. Her hair was splayed across the arm of the sofa, and her head laid on a throw pillow, their fuzziest blanket draped across her form. 

His first thought is how low he’s dropped, that he’s jealous of a blanket. 

His second his that she is not coming to bed. He sits beside her gingerly, and the scent of her body wash lingers in the air. 

“Are you planning on coming to bed?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” He can tell she wants to sound cold, but the truth is much worse; she sounds guarded. 

“I always want you to.” It’s the most honest thing he’s said today, and it’s just not fair, how much he revolves around her. How he has waited 14 days, 13 hours and 34 minutes to hold her again and managed to ruin it within the first 20 minutes of having seen her again. He grabs her hand, soft and pliant against his in a way that almost makes his heart leap. “Please? Come to bed?”

Her gaze softens, the warmth and light that guides him back in her eyes, and he hopes his relief isn’t too visible. It’s then that she drinks him in. It feels too revealing like she can see right through him. His clothes are old. He’d rushed off the jet to see her, and the half moon circles under his eyes only lend to the unimpressive picture of himself. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes, touching the side of his face. He instantly leans into it, the contact more than he’d be willing to give up to save his dignity. “Come here.”

She wraps her arms around him, and he pulls her into his lap, squeezing her tight to his chest, like she might disappear. 

“I’m still mad at you,” she says, looking at him with such affection it betrays her words.

“That’s okay,” he says into her collarbone, “As long as I still have you.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: slept like crap last night but we got this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Sy is nice enough but you're still put off by your meeting. He carries a bag gallantly to a large black truck and pulls open the back door to place it on the seat. He turns to you to take the next. You hug it, wondering if you should settle for half your load and run for the hills.

Still, you can't help but feel beholden to him. The pin on his hat and the way he looks at you. He just seems a bit oblivious to how unsettling his approach Is.

He takes the bag and you just stare. You feel hollow and your ears are on fire. You just keep going along with this and that voice in your head is screaming at you to stop.

“Here,” he shuts the back door and pulls the passenger's open.

You look at him then into the truck. Are you crazy!? You can't just go with this man in his vehicle…

You grab onto the interior of the door and climb up into the truck. He touches your lower back gently as if to help you. You drop into the seat and thank him, trying not to let your fear bubble over.

He shuts the door and your stomach plummets. Are you being kidnapped? Are you letting yourself be abducted? Oh, you're gonna end up on a podcast.

He gets in the driver's side as you sink into the horror movie unfolding in your head. You look over at him as he unfolds a pair of dark sunglasses and puts them on to block out the sun's glare. He's so calm it's frightening. He knows exactly what's coming and you can't even begin to imagine the sheer terror awaiting you.

Maybe a nice basement cell. Worse, a field and a hole six feet deep. Your heart feels like it's stopped. Your vision is hazy and your ears are ringing.

The truck rolls backwards and lurches you back to reality. You blink and look over the hood. Sy pulls out of the spot smoothly and cranks the wheel to straighten out.

“Y'okay, sweetie?” He asks as he comes to the exit.

“Mmm, yeah,” you eke out as you grip the inside of the door. “I'm all good I just… I never expected to meet a follower.”

“Yeah, I uh… you know, I only ever dreamed it. Being over there, the days… well you don't know if you'll see the next, or even the night,” he lets out a deep breath, “I didn't put real thought into it til I got back and… it's so fu– so, er, lonely, you know? You're the only thing that was the same.”

“Oh,” your cheeks twitch as you attempt a smile, “that's very sweet. I… you know, I kinda just do the streams to get my thoughts out, it's not really… I don't know.”

“I like it. It's peaceful,” he drives down the street as the passing buildings spike your concern. “Don't get much of that.”

“Sure, I… I can imagine.”

“Hey, if it means keeping sweet things like you safe, I'll do it,” he chuckles. 

Before you can respond, he slams on the breaks and his tires skid. A car in front of him flashes their tail light. He snarls and you watch the fury furrow above his brows.

“You fu–” his booming voice catches and he bites down on his words, growling instead. “Ugh,” he exhales, “that guy… coulda got hurt…”

“Yeah,” you clasp your hands together.

"Or he coulda hurt us!" He throws a hand up.

“That was close," you mewl, "but we're okay, right?”

He inhales and looks at you. He closes his eyes and nods, “you're right, sweetie.”

You bite down, fighting not to show your fear. There's something in him that threatens to boil over. You can see it in the vein popping out along his forehead.

“So, I know a place, they got good bacon, probably some good french toast,” he leans on the pedal again, “get some whip cream on top?”

“Well, I appreciate it but I really should get home,” you say gently, “but maybe another time–”

“It's my treat, sweetie,” he insists, “it's been a long time since I got to sit down to eat with a pretty girl.���

“Oh,” is all you can muster. You don't want to push him. You know the tenuous tightrope walk. Just do what he wants, keep him happy.

“I didn't say… you look real nice today. That's my favourite of yours,” he keeps one hand on the wheel and points towards you, “the overalls.”

“Thank you,” you murmur and twist your fingers, letting out a rocky chuckle.

“So cute when you do that,” he rumbles and rests his hand on the corner of your seat, “that lil laugh.”

“Um, yeah, sorry, I… it's  a habit.”

“Nah, I like it,” he assures you and rescinds his hand to flip his signal on.

He turns into another plaza and you see the bright painted sign above a diner. A white cup on a teal banner. You've never been there but you pass it on the bus. He pulls up right at the front of the lot before the windows. You can see people inside as waitress carry trays between tables.

“I don't know about you but I'm starving,” he drawls and undoes his seat belt.

You sit in the seat, paralysed and helpless. He comes around your side and you click the button on your own belt. You turn and he offers his hand to help you get down. When you ignore it, he grabs your arm to ease your landing.

He swings the door shut and you shuffle past him. You have no choice but to keep going. Get through this and you'll go home and block him. Maybe even delete your whole account.

He reaches around you as you come up to the door and pulls it open. Be sweeps you inside with his arm and follows you through. A waitress in a black blouse greets you and you look to Sy over your shoulder.

“Table, thank you,” he says.

She leads you to a table for two and you sit, arms crossed as you rock nervously. He orders coffee as he slides off his sunglasses and the waitress turns to you. You push yourself straight. 

“Um, chocolate milk, please,” you request.

“Right away, hon,” she leaves you with the menus as you unfold your arms and pick at your thumbnail.

“So cute, chocolate milk,” he comments as he takes the laminated menu from the table, “oh, look,” he flicks it, “French toast. Can get berries with it.”

You look down and lean forward to see past the sheen of the plastic sheath. You narrow in on the French toast but your stomach rolls. You're too nervous to be hungry.

“Yeah, looks good,” you say, “um, I gotta use the bathroom.”

“Sure,” he smiles as he browses the menu.

You get up, wobbling slightly before you get your balance. You search for the sign to the restrooms and head down the short hall behind the kitchen. You dip inside and lock yourself in a stall.

You really can't afford to abandon your groceries. Worse, you don't dare anger him. He's nice but you don't know how nice he'd be if you ran out on him. Just get yourself together, it's just breakfast. You'll get through it then try to forget your stupidity.

You should've known better but you didn't have enough followers to worry  it never even occurred to you but it should be. It's your own fault.

You take a few minutes to mellow out. You don't quite get there but the longer you stay, the longer he has to get suspicious. No, you're not going to run. You don't think you'll get very far.

You come back out and return to the table. As you sit, he sips his coffee and his eyes crinkle at you. Your chocolate milk is waiting beside a wrapped straw. As you tear through the paper, you sense him watching you.

He clinks his cup down, "ordered your french toast. Extra sugar... since you're so sweet."

You issue a brittle chuckle. You stare at him. He's taken his cap off, revealing a shaved head above his thick beard. His shoulders are broad, all of him is. He's so thick and his arms are bulging with muscle beneath his tee shirt. His eyes are a brilliant shade of blue, a contrast to the rest of his rough exterior.

"You don't gotta be shy," his voice gristle in his throat as he leans forward, elbows on the table. "What do ya wanna know?"

"Pardon?" You croak.

"Well, I know everything about you," he grins, "you barely know me."

You gulp, wavering like you've been knocked upside the head. You part your lips and peer around. His self-awareness if almost there but not quite.

"I..." you don't know what to say or ask or do. He toys with the handle of his coffee cup. "What do you take.... in your, uh, coffee?"

He chuckles, "really? Why's that? You planning to bring me coffee in the mornings?"

You meet his eyes again and he winks. You giggle and move your lips like a gasping fish.

"Teasing, ya, sweetie, I don't wanna rush you," he says, "I take it black, but I don't mind some cream on Sundays."

You nod, embarrassed, and poke your straw into your cup, leaning forward to slurp up the chocolate milk. His eyes linger on your lips as you do. You pull back and take a napkin to wipe your mouth.

"Erm... well, what... how did you... find my page?"

He sits back, gripping the edges of the table as he sighs, "I was just scrolling around but I'm starting to think it's something bigger than us, you know? I was goin' through it. I needed something and there you were, showin' off those new boots you got with the flower."

Flowers? You got those boots over a year ago. You remember that stream. He's been watching you that long.

"Oh, ha, right," you murmur.

"There aren't many people out there like you left, you know? I've seen the worst in people but in you, I saw the best," he explains, "the way you just take everything in. Looking at the flowers and the birds and... you just know how to appreciate life."

You smile and nod. What else can you do as the world crashes down? He was there yesterday. That blurry figure behind you in the photo, the shadow creeping just beyond your sight. You don't doubt it was him.

“I try, er…”

You sit back as the waitress approaches. She puts a plate before you, French toast with a side of fruit salad, sugar and whip on top of the bread. She lays down Sy's plate, mounded in eggs, home fries, sausage, and two types of bacon, with rye toast. You would guess that is just barely enough to fill him up.

“Dig in,” he says as he grabs his cutlery.

You sit forward and take your fork and knife. You cut into the eggy bread and stab the small triangle of the corner. As you raise your fork, Sy growls, “get some cream too, sweetie.”

You flinch but do as he says. You swipe the bread through the dolloped cream and shove it through your lips. You stare at your plate as you chew. You wish he wouldn't watch you. You don't like eating in front of others.

“Is it good?” He asks.

“Very,” you swallow and cover your mouth.

“Don't worry, I think it's cute you got cream on your lips,” he plucks up a piece of bacon with his fingers, “didn't get good fixings like this in the sh– over there,” he bites into the strip and chews.

“Yeah, I wouldn't think…” you twirl your fork nervously, “do you have to go back?”

“Mmm, not anytime soon. They're tryna get me on a desk,” he shrugs, “might be a good change but I don't know if I'm suited to it…” he tosses back the rest of the bacon, chewing thoughtfully, “but I'm about that age. Gotta settle down, so I figure, makes sense.”

“Right, right, yeah, fair,” you garble mindlessly.

“Besides, when you got someone at home, you don't wanna run back into the bull– into war,” he smirks.

You take another bite, even as your stomach churns. You don't like how he's talking, as if you're together. As if he knows you. It's strange.

He scoops up a forkful of home fries and shovels them back. You can't fault his table manners, he was probably eating out of cans for the last few years. Not that you would say anything. You're much too scared for that.

You fall into a trance, focusing on the simple task of cutting into the toast, chewing but not tasting as your heart tamps behind your ears. You sense a shift and look up, your cheeks full of food as you make eye contact with Sy’s phone camera. You swallow painfully and nearly choke.

“What are you doing?” You squeak.

“For your Instagram,” he smiles, “I’ll send you the pics…” he frames his phone with both hands as he admires the screen, “you look so cute.”

You shudder and grip the knife and fork tight. You look back to the stack. You think you’ll ask for it to go. If you eat any more, you’re definitely going to be sick.

[leclsrc]

3k celeb toimeee ~_~ darting eyes with pregnant reader and best friends lily and alex please? love u mother

guessing game – ...?

Your two closest friends scramble to guess who got you knocked up.

auds here... hi love u didnt specify who u want the baby daddy to be... so i spun it into something of the sort bahaha

Alex finds the plastic positive test first, on the floor of his bathroom. On instinct, he literally screams for Lily, who rushes over to him and tells him it’s not hers, and for a minute Alex thinks oh Christ, is it mine? It’s only after Lily slaps his shoulder that they begin thinking of who might own it, thinking it’d really only belong to the only other person they love enough to let pee in their flat.

In a flurry of panic, they ransack the place trying to find you (it’s a three bedroom, so not too much ransacking is done, really) and eventually find peace when they peek into the rooftop deck and find you watching the overcast, dreary city with a blank expression on your face. You turn when you hear their footsteps on the cement, features softening instantly.

“You freaked us out,” Lily says, but she’s hugging you tight. “Alex saw it.”

“I thought it was mine for a second,” he says, earning himself another light shove. You laugh, but it doesn’t really hold with your anxiety, your anticipation, your nerves. You know, you can feel their burning questions creeping up on you, but they hold back for your sake.

“Are you okay?” Alex adds, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You sigh, shrugging.

“Sure. I’m keeping it, I guess. I’m just nervous. I haven’t even told the d—” Your voice hitches into silence, and you purse your lips. “Yeah.”

You can tell they’re absolutely dying to ask you who it is, but you don’t want to speak it aloud.

It’s just because when you do, it’ll feel so much more real. So real, so damning, once there’s a name to the mysterious figure, once they know who he is. But they’re your best friends, and just based on their eyebrows furrowing and eyes darting millimeter to millimeter, you can pick up on their inner monologues, their musings, and the theories they will no doubt share to one another over dinner or beer when you’re gone.

—

“Paul.” Lily says, tossing the stuffed bear to her boyfriend. He takes it and holds it, humming contemplatively. “Alex, it’s him. That’s the last guy she slept with, like, four weeks ago. And they did it twice I think.”

“Yeaaaaah, but. Yeesh. Paul?” He grimaces, face souring as if he’d just eaten a lemon wedge. “He was ugly.”

She laughs. “Then it means our best friend is going to have an ugly baby. Throw me the bear.”

“Oh—aha! Ahhh-ha! It can’t be Paul, she was in California last month, remember?! She had that whole work thing. And he was in Europe. Can’t make a baby over Skype, now can you.” He pumps his eyebrows and throws the bear, satisfied with his rebuttal as he watches his girlfriend stutter for her own. 

“Maybe she had a one night stand with someone in California?” Lily hums. “Did you know anyone who was there last month?”

She pouts to herself, deep in thought. She’s worried for you, above all, but she can’t knock the curiosity out of herself. It seems weird that neither she or her boyfriend are even remotely able to pinpoint the guy’s identity at once, mostly because they both know you so well. Lily especially, because you’re not in the business of spilling hookup secrets to Alex (he gets wind of it via Lily instead), and she had herself convinced she’d heard almost all of it.

“No, I didn’t see anything. Lots of drivers were on off-time last month, so it was all personal trips. But if she got knocked up a bit before L.A., she did go to that gala where a few drivers were hanging out, too.” He makes grabby hands for the bear, but Lily holds it out of reach, still confused and lost in thought.

She was so sure it was Paul—he was the only guy you told her about over the last few months. Sure, there were flings, but they were terribly short-lived, and that was only because you’re not one to date for a while. “The timeline doesn’t add up, but. Okay, who was there?”

“Um. Charles, and Carlos.”

“So it might be them.”

“Yeah, but slim chance.”

Grumbling, she tosses the bear back. “You win,” she sighs. “We’ll see. I’m totally blanking.”

“So am I,” Alex responds, evidently bummed.

—

Yuki hosts birthday dinner with the people on the grid he can “tolerate,” he said, which of course started with Pierre and Nyck, seated on either side of the celebrant. Plus ones are allowed, so Alex brought Lily, too, and Yuki loves you too much to discount you from the guest list, so the three of you are sitting next to each other. Charles, and Lando occupy the last two seats.

“Remember that gala you went to last month?” Lily asks in faux-nonchalance.

“Oh, yeah. Carlos and I had way too much vodka that time, like jeeez.” You make a face of disgust.

Alex squeezes Lily’s hand so hard she has to contain a squeal. They’ve got you pinned.

—

An hour into the dinner, your eyes begin to dart back and forth, breaths leaving you in quiet little huffs, which is your easiest tell—you’re nervous. Anticipatory. Bumbling. Sometime after the collective effort of teaching Pierre how to use chopsticks and watching the wooden utensil fly away and into the restaurant’s open aquarium, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.

Immediately, your departure sends Alex and Lily into sleuth mode again. 

She extracts a pen from her purse and clicks it a few times, reviewing the facts. One, you haven’t told the dad yet, you said, which means there’s no awkward air between the two of you. Two, it’s someone on the paddock, or someone friends with someone on the paddock (the only clue you told them, and a really useless one considering how big social circles run in racing).

Its Carlos? she writes on a napkin, passing it to Alex.

DUNNO…. Maybe is the response. How bout Yuki? “What’s your birthday wish, Yukino?” Lando asks as she writes; Lily makes an attempt to look engaged but half-fails, eyes trained on her written words.

Are u crazy she scribbles. Lando?

“To travel outside of work,” Yuki says. “Be by myself, or with a friend. Taste food everywhere.” She wouldnt sleep with him if he paid her, Alex writes furiously quickly after paying the driver a long, scrutinizing glance.

“I heard of a cool place somewhere in Vietnam,” Lily chimes in to seem involved, but she doesn’t look up from her writing. Ok… so it’s not a driver?

She passes it to Alex and looks up. “They sell the best pho.”

“If you like Asian food, mate, Nobu is good, too,” Charles offers, smiling.

Alex passes the tissue, now worn thin with the writing, back. Idk. I bet it is tho. Doobius. She reads over it a few times in a cross between amusement and what she can only describe as being totally weirded out.

ITS DUBIOUS, she corrects, and for good measure she underlines the U several times. They’re losing the plot, distracted.

“I only hear the best about that place,” Nyck quips. “What Nobu did you go to?”

SORRY IM NOT AN EXPERT MISS HE

“California, in L.A.”

I dont think theres a single word spelled like that Alex

Pierre makes a curious noise. “Los Angeles? I didn’t know you went there, mate. When?”

Ok miss expert comes the funny reply.

“Last month,” Charles says.

Youre such a di

She pauses as she writes, waiting for herself to piece together why his sentence means so much. Nobu. California. L.A.

Last month.

The words register, click in her mind. In unison, Alex and Lily’s wide eyes immediately snap up to Charles’ relaxed figure, and he notices, laughing a bit nervously. No way, they’re thinking. The answer’s dropped right into their laps.

Now visibly stuffy, Charles smiles politely. “What is going on?”

“You—!” Alex raises a finger, ready to make his epiphany verbal in his fit of excitement, but at the last moment spots you walking back in, dabbing your lip gloss in place. He deflates. “Y—you, you—are a fan of sushi?!”

Charles blinks. “Um… sure.”

Lily makes a show of happiness. “That’s great!” she chirps, laughing phonily. “So great!”

Alex nods along. “So great, so great!”

You slide into your seat, smiling. “Hi. What’s so great?”

“Oh,” Lily says, laughing smugly and meeting your eyes. “Oh, you have no idea.”

[ford-pines-lover]

Tolerate it

when you were out building other worlds, where was I?

Here is this one!! @chillinglyadventurous

Tags: SFW, falling out of love, i actually think this is sad

I greet you with a battle hero's welcome

There was nothing better than going to the shack after a shopping trip with Mabel. She strides inside the house with her millions of bags. It was like she was gleaming with the dust of a million stars. There was nothing that could hurt her or stop her from her excitement. 

When you two walked inside the shack, everything was in its place. It seemed as if nothing was touched. Made sense; Dipper was out with Stan doing some grunkle, nephew bonding, and Ford? Well, he hasn’t seen the light of day in a week. It was starting to worry you. Usually he at least makes an effort to come see you before bed or come up for dinner, but lately it hasn’t even been anything. Long nights waiting and hoping that your boyfriend would come and sleep next to you. Waiting to feel another person next to you was excruciating. 

You got snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Mabel say, “That was so fun, y/n! Thank you for taking me!” She gives you a hug and runs off to the attic to drop off her stuff. She was like a younger sister to you. Maybe even a daughter in some sense? Your own feelings were conflicted. 

You walk down to the lab to see your boyfriend. He was slouched over his desk, papers everywhere. He was drowning in his work. You surmise that he had just found a new discovery. Perhaps a new equation or a new creature found here in the Falls. You knew that just recently Ford had gone deeper in the woods than he had ever felt comfortable. Unsurprisingly, he took Dipper with him. They came home with cuts and bruises. Neither of them unscathed.

“Dear, I’m fine,” he had said.

So you believed him. 

“Hey, love.” You walk up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t move, still surrounded by the pages and pages of math and science. You knew you had an affinity toward the man, but sometimes you couldn’t pinpoint why. He wasn’t involved in your relationship often; he never came to bed; hell, you can’t remember the last time you two had sex!

I take your indiscretions all in good fun

It took him a bit to notice you. 

“Hello, my dear.” He turned to look at you. His chair squeaking as he moved as if he hadn’t moved in hours. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

You give him an incredulous look. Actually, you hadn’t slept in days. Ford had been so engulfed in his work that he hadn’t gone to bed with you in days. He sleeps on his desk, waiting for some sort of answer to just pop out of his work. You press your lips together, not wanting to disturb the peace. Deciding to keep your mouth shut about your feelings, you say, “Yeah, it’s been a rough couple nights, but I’ve been okay.” You turn around to leave, “There will be dinner in about an hour if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,”

“If that’s what you wish.” You tearfully look away and walk back upstairs. Your movements were saturnine. Everything hurt; nothing felt real. The love you had once in the past almost feels obsolete now. There was almost a remorseful feeling inside you for him. He has gone through so much; you should just let him be. But if your needs weren't being met, why should you stay?

I sit and listеn

As you set up your new art station that you had bought at the store, you open the paints. They were an expensive set of oil paints that you were so desperate to try out. Painting wasn’t a new hobby, just one that had gone dormant over the last couple years. Now that you have a rather inadequate boyfriend, you were ready to take on this hobby once again. 

“Hey, kid.” You see Stan approach you with a weary look on his face. He must have just gotten back with Dipper, but you hadn’t seen Dipper yet. “I know that you and Ford are going through hard times right now." He leans on the doorframe with a phlegmatic disposition. “Just know that he does still love you and is just having a hard time. Just give him some time, kid. He’ll come around.”

“Stan, I don’t know how much longer I can wait.” You said with an indigent look across your face. “I love him, but I can’t feel so empty anymore.”

“Look, kid, I can talk to him for you if you’d like. He’d better listen to me. I wouldn’t want to lose a family member over some stupid math equations.” He sighs. "You know how he’s an opportunist. He knows what he wants, and he takes it.”

“Please talk to him for me; he doesn’t seem to listen to me.” You gulp. “I know how he is. I just want my Stanford back.” 

“I’ll be back, then. Hang tight.”

You watch as he goes out of the room. You were stationed in the kitchen with your supplies, so it was easy access to the lab from there. Your mind starts to wander. What if you really were just a bother and in the way? What if there was really nothing there? 

You take a deep breath and lather a thin coat of white paint on the canvas. You weren’t quite sure what would come of this painting, but you knew you were emotional, and this was one healthy way to get it out. At least that's what your therapist had said at one point. Instead of taking it out on other people, taking it out of a piece of canvas was healthier. Or something. 

You started with hues of grey and blue. For some reason there was something compelling you to use those colors. Maybe they stated how you felt. Grey and empty. Blue and sad. Or maybe you just liked them. 

Below you, you could hear fighting. It was the two men that you had trusted more than anything in the world. You couldn’t quite make out what they were yelling to each other. It was loud. It shook the house. There was a negative tone flowing through the shack. It was dizzying.

“C’mon Poindexter… shes… kid! Don't…care... her?” You heard most of Stan’s words. But what hurt the most is what his brother said after. 

“Yes, I care, Stanley! It’s all just become too much, and my work is far too important! I don't understand why none of you can see that!” You heard that one clear as day. It was perfectly clear why he didn’t want to see you. You were too much. 

“Why the fuck would you say that?” You could hear Stan getting louder with each word. “At least talk to her! Have dinner with her. Once. Before you decide to throw this away.” He had an ardent tone. 

“What are you trying to imply?”

“That you’re being a selfish idiot and throwing away the best thing that’s ever happened to you!”

I polish plates until they gleam and glistеn

You got up from your spot at the table. Your mind is whizzing and whirring from the fighting in the basement. You try to think of something, anything, to keep your mind off of what Ford had just said. Too Much? You walk over to the sink and start doing the dishes. You were staring off, out the window, trying not to completely break apart. 

Was Stan talking to Ford a good idea? Or did it really cause more issues than what was worth? Maybe Ford is just saying shit because he’s sleep deprived. He does tend to get more annoyed than usual when he hasn’t had a good rest. Doesn’t everyone?

“Hey, y/n. Everything good?” You jump, seeing Dipper behind you. When did you start crying?

You wipe your face with your sleeve and put on a fake smile. He definitely could tell. “Yeah, why what’s up?” 

“I’m not stupid, y/n. I hear Grunkle Stan and Ford fighting.” He gave you a judgmental look. You knew he wasn’t stupid, but it wasn't fair that he had to listen to his Grunkles fighting. 

“I know you’re not stupid. I’m genuinely okay; I am just a little overwhelmed.” You took in a deep breath. Everything was going to be okay.

He gently nods and walks away.

You're so much older and wiser, and I

You think about the age gap between you two while you sit down to continue to paint again. The age gap was significant enough that you were 30 years younger than him. It was hard for him, yet it seemed like he thoroughly enjoyed the relationship. 

You two had met at the library while checking out a book. Then on from there, Ford invited you to go on adventures with him and invited you to play D, D, and more D with him. You two were really bonding. Giggling and blushing as your two characters in the RPG were flirting and Dipper being grossed out the whole time. Mabel was way too excited about her Grunkle’s newfound crush. 

Then you lost your house. The landlord decided that he wasn’t going to rent out his house anymore, and it left you homeless. You couldn’t afford to just move spontaneously. This had left you to live out of your car for about a week. It was horrible. Worse than you had originally imagined. It was overcrowded, messy, and humiliating. 

The Pines family had heard what happened. Stan was the first to offer you a room to stay in. 

“Kid, times are tough. I know what it’s like to be homeless. So I’m offering you a space, free of charge.”

“Are you sure?”  You had said, worried about overstepping bounds.

“I wouldn’t be offering it to ya if I wasn’t sure.”

That was that. You were now an honorary member of the Pines family. 

With that came more time spent with Stanford. This led to stolen kisses in the lab and sleepovers in your bedroom. It became routine to see him often. One day you had asked him out formally. It was just to a diner. Nothing fancy, but it meant something to you. 

After that, you and Ford were inseparable. Constantly going on adventures; hanging out. Life was great. Until now. 

Ford stands before you, arms crossed. You could tell he was upset. 

“I know I haven’t talked to you in a bit, but I would like to know if you were okay with going out for dinner.” It seemed like it took a lot out of him just to get that out. 

“Yeah, sure.” You tried to not let it be known that it upset you that he was being this way. “I think I have an idea. I’ll come grab you in thirty minutes, okay?”

“Alright.”

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid

You decide to stand in his lab doorway. He had agreed to dinner. Hopefully things will not go to shit and everything will go to plan. 

“You ready?” You held out your hand, and he hesitantly put his hand in yours. It didn’t feel right, but you kept it cool.

“Yes.” He had said rather coldly. Oh boy.

Use my best colors for your portrait

You stare at the portrait you had made as it sits in your tote bag. This was a gift to him. It was of you two stargazing. The colors were magnificent. It has ranges of blues, violets, and reds. You hoped that he would like it and see it as a means to start over. 

Maybe not.

Lay the table with the fancy shit

You led him outside to the place you had set up. It was a picnic on a hill. Just like you two had once had a date there months ago. There were plates of food, fake candles, flowers, just about anything you could imagine. 

“It looks... nice.” Ford had said as he forced a smile. 

“I’m glad you like it.” You pop open the wine bottle and pour yourself a big glass. 

Throughout the whole dinner, he was not attentive. He really was in another world. There was nothing that could make him want to be at this dinner that you had planned. Yet here he was. 

And the portrait stayed in your bag. 

And watch you tolerate it

[fruity-mega-coconut69]

A Car?!

[Pairings]: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader.

[Summary]: It's Tara's 20th birthday and you might have gone a little over-board with her gift.

[Warnings]: Fluff? , shitty ending, My writing

A/N: Sorry, it's short.

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

“I can’t believe I’m going to miss it!” 

You mutter to yourself as you look out the window of your father’s private jet. It’s your girlfriend's, Tara’s, birthday today and you haven’t bought anything for her, and as a matter of fact, it’s possible you are not going to arrive home before later tonight. 

But, luckily, you were wrong and you arrived back in New York at 4pm.  You were so happy, you practically ran out of the jet when it landed and immediately went to search for something to buy for Tara.

And now, you’re walking the busy streets of New York, looking for the perfect gift. You feel exhausted and tired as you haven’t slept in more than 24 hours, but your feet kept moving until you finally found just the gift for Tara. Your face lights up as you stop in your tracks in front of a car shop and you grin, doing a small dance before going in and looking around.

About half an hour later, your eyes widen and get stuck on a specific car that’s just Tara . You look at the label and see its price, ‘ $63.300’. You smile and turn to the worker that has been showing you around. He smirks and comes closer.

“Ah, a BMW Z4. It’s one of our newer cars. You said it was for a special someone, hm?” You nod and she looks at you. “Well, then, it’s perfect.”  You nod and reach into your bag for your wallet, pulling out the money needed while the worker stares at you with a wind mouth and eyes. You smile and hand it to him. He stands there for a minute before mumbling something about bringing some papers.

After signing everything needed, you walk out of the shop happily. Then wait until they bring the car out. After they did, you thank them and immediately speed towards Tara’s apartment building.  When you arrive, you get out of the car, now feeling slightly nervous.

What if she doesn’t like it?

Is she going to be mad at me for buying something for her again?

You shake your head and go inside, running up the stairs and knocking on her door when you reach it. Only, it’s not Tara’s cute face that welcomes you when the door opens and instead there is a woman with a big scowl on her face, clearly annoyed. You look down and start to fidget.

“Uh, h-hi. I-Is Tara…here?” You stutter out as you feel small under Sam’s gaze. Although you and Tara have been together for several months, you never had the time to meet her friends and sister who she always told you so much about. All this due to your parents bringing you to every business trip they go to, which is a lot. 

You look up again and see that the older Carpenter is about to say something when Tara’s sweet voice can be heard. “Y/N?!” Then loud footsteps and soon Sam is pushed aside and Tara takes her place, immediately smiling at you and not wasting any time before she hugs you tightly. You smile and inhale her scent that you had missed. Tara pulls back only to lean up and give you a sweet kiss that doesn’t go unnoticed by Sam as she gasps.

She doesn’t understand, Tara has been sad all day and Sam and the others have been desperately trying to cheer her up as it is her birthday and she should be happy. And all it takes for that to happen is for some complete stranger to show up at their door?

Tara has a love-struck smile on her face as she pulls back from the kiss and grabs your hand, dragging you inside. There, you see two other people, who you are guessing, are Mindy and Chad. You wave at them awkwardly and sit down on the couch. Sam grumples and closes the door. Tara sits beside you, close. You decide to look around the apartment and smile  as you take in the coziness of the home and a warm feeling erupts in your heart when you feel Tara lean into you.

Then, your eyes land on the kitchen table and you notice a bunch of crumpled wrapping paper and some items on the table, like a phone case, a sweater and some chocolate. You gasp and grin.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” All of them look confused as you hadn’t introduced yourself. You grin and pick up your bag, searching for the key to Tara's car. When you find it, you let out a sigh and your hand goes behind your back when you turn back to Tara. She is smiling, but is visibly confused. You blush and show your hands, the keys dangling from them.

“Happy Birthday!” You smile.

Tara’s eyes widen and she gasps, hand flying to her mouth. “You bought me a car?! But, honey! You didn’t have to! Why-?” 

She was cut off by Sam as she steps closer to you, eyeing you.  “So what? You just come here, not even introduce yourself, kiss my sister and buy her a car? Who the hell are you?”

 You look down. “UH, he-her girlfriend, ma’am.” Then you glance at Tara. “And I'm sorry if you don’t like it. I-I can take it back?” 

Sam stands still, shocked while Tara smiles wildly and shakes her head. “No, it..it’s perfect! Thank you so much! “She giggles and hugs you, planting a small kiss on your lips. You bite your lip and nod. “But also, what  have I told you about buying me expensive stuff for no reason?” 

“But! It is for your birthday! “  She laughs and rolls her eyes.

“Oh, you goofball.” Then grabs the back of your neck and kisses you deeply. You sigh into the kiss and wrap your arms around her shoulders. You break apart and she looks down at the keys.

Suddenly, Chad shouts. “Oh! Let’s see the car! I wanna see the car! “He smiles excitedly.

All of you laugh, but Sam keeps staring at you suspiciously as all five of you leave the apartment building and in front of it, is parked the BMW Z4. Tara’s -and everyone else’s- mouth is agape as she stares at the car. 

You walk up to it and lean against it, trying to look cool, but failing as you trip and almost fall over. You clear your throat and straighten up as the others chuckle. “So? Wanna take this baby for a ride?” You cringe almost immediately. “Ugh, never saying that again.” 

Tara smiles and walks up to the car. “Sure thing, Darling. Let's ride.” And she gets into the driver's seat. You laugh and get in too. Tara puts the key in and turns it, the engine roaring.  She leans forward to look at the others. “See you soon, my friends!” She waves at them and pushes her foot on the gas.

A couple of minutes later, the roof is down and the wind is blowing through you guys’s hair as the two of you laugh and talk. There is a beat of silence between you two, only the sound of the engine and the whooshing of the wind can be heard-as well as the other cars around you-.  Then, Tara turns to you. 

“I love you” 

You blush and look at her. “ I…love you, too.”  

She giggles and puts a comforting hand on your knee. “So, should we heat things up?” She asks and before you could answer, she steps on the gas and you are speeding through New York. Your heart is racing as you laugh and admire the view of  the city in the dark of the night, and of course, Tara’s beauty. 

[imaginesforeveryone]

Honey, I’m Home

request: Hi can I get a Rooster request where his girlfriend is extremely sleep deprived and he comes home after the mission and finds her in the kitchen baking cookies. When she sees him after so long she jumps into his arms wrapping her legs around his waist. She doesn’t want to let go and becomes very touchy feely and needy for cuddles. He loves it and drags her into the bath for a relaxing time with soft kisses. Thank you 😊 Pairing: Y/N x Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw Warnings: super fluff

24 hours no sleep. 24 hours thoughts running through your mind. 24 hours of no contact with Bradley. You were so tired, but couldn’t sleep, all of the bad thoughts kept you awake at night that you hadn’t heard any new about the mission that he just deployed out for. So you decided to make cookies at 3 am instead of laying in your bed on your phone or watching TV. Stood at the island in your shared home in the kitchen you mixed the batter feeling how weak you were from no sleep, but what else could you do. You tried everything. But hearing the door squeak open you set the things in your hand down and look over at it having a clear view from the kitchen. You saw Rooster slowly walk in and shut the door quiet. 

“Roos?” You asked to make sure you were hallucinating from the no sleep. 

“Honey, I’m home.” He said walking to the entrance of the kitchen with a huge smile on his face. You could drop to the floor and just sleep right there right now, but instead you ran around he island and jumped into his arms wrapping your legs around his torso and burrowed your face in his neck breathing in his sweet smell that you missed so much. Pulling back you placed a kiss on his lips holding it for awhile. After pulling away you peppered kisses up and down his neck and his check. All over where you could. 

“Alright, Alright, I missed you too baby.” He said trying to put you down but you held on to him like a spider monkey not letting go even though he wasn’t holding you anymore. 

“Why are you are you still awake anyways?” He asked wrapping his arms back around you. 

“I haven’t slept in 24 hours.” You said still burrowed into his neck. 

“Oh my god Y/N.” He said now forcing you to get down now and looking down at you. 

“Come on, let’s go to sleep.” He said setting his stuff down and grabbing your hand. 

“No I want to stay up and just look at you. What’s another couple of hours?” You said grabbing ahold of him again and feeling all over him taking him in and not wanting to let go. 

“Okay, let’s make a deal.” He said picking you up and putting you on the island. That didn’t stop you from keeping your hands on him. Putting your hands on his chest feeling his heart beat. 

“I start you a bath and you take a little bit to relax. Then we can go to bed and sleep for 3 days. I know you can use it and I sure can.” He said look at you as you just stared at him. 

“counter offer, you run a bath for US, then we can do the rest.” You said with your own offer. 

“Deal.” He said leaning in and pecking your lips. Getting off the counter you went and got towels while Rooster went and started he bath. Going into the bathroom in your shared bedroom you walk in and saw there was candle lite, the light was turn off, and a shirtless Rooster. You saw bruise peppered all over her torso and back. 

“What happened?” You asked walking up to him and softly running your hand over his abs and chest. 

“Well, I went down. I went back for Maverick and got shot down, hit the ground kind of hard, but made it out alive.” He said putting his arms up showing he’s here. You pulled into him to give him a hug and almost crying but you didn’t. You were just happy that he came home to you again. 

“Alright let’s get in.” He said motioning to the big tub in your bathroom filled with water and bubbles. He stripped off his pants and boxers and slide into the tub looking like he was more relaxed then ever. You smiled and stripped your clothes off and sliding in, in front of him between his legs and laid you head back on his chest taking in the warmth of the water around you and the warmth of his body behind you. You felt him lift his hand to your hair and moving it to the side and kissing your temple. 

“I missed you Roos.” You spoke softly with your eyes shut. 

“I missed you more.” He said placing another kiss on your temple. 

It was just then you slipped into sleep.

[worldofheroes]

A New Approach

tom cruise x girlfriend!reader

summary: during filming, you want to try something that ends up making the cut and becomes the most talked about scene.

warnings: fluff, hint of angst in the beginning if you squint

wc: 680

a/n: based on this request by @rveyjules ! ❤️ hope you enjoy!! My fluffy fics are always so short, hope y’all aren’t too mad! I also couldn’t find a pic/gif I liked so here we are 🫣

Tom and McQ were always in their own world when filming. It was difficult for anyone to break through their thoughts and bring them back to reality.

You were missing your boyfriend. You knew there was work to do, but everything had been so serious for the past week of filming. You were tired of it.

You’d go home at night and Tom was occupied with thoughts of how to film something differently or where the story should go. Most nights, you slept alone in your shared king-sized bed as Tom spent all hours in his office working.

You desperately wanted his attention, and you knew just how to do that.

The upcoming scene between you and Tom was emotional and ended in a tight hug between the two characters. Maybe, just maybe, you could convince Tom and McQ to let you do something different with the scene.

“I wanna try something else for this scene,” you tell Tom and McQ after a take.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” Tom asks you, half paying attention to you.

“I just… wanna try something, okay? If you don’t like it, fine,” you say.

Tom looks at you, mind coming back to the present.

“You wanna try something?”

McQ looks over at Tom.

“If you don’t like it, fine. I just want to do one take, that’s all,” you tell them.

“Let’s do one take,” Tom says.

“Okay,” you beam at the two men.

McQ calls action, and you and Tom go through your dialogue.

When it’s time for the hug, you practically leap at Tom, causing him to stumble backwards a couple steps.

Tom instinctively wraps his arms tighter around you as he recovers from the sudden move.

“Cut!” McQ calls out, holding back laughter.

“That might’ve been a little too much, y/n,” Tom chuckles.

You finally have your boyfriend back, even if it’s just for a moment.

“Sorry,” you giggle. “Just wanted to try something new.”

Tom smiles and kisses the top of your head.

A few months later, you are curled up on the couch flipping through the tv channels as Tom works on post-production for the movie.

You hear the door to your condo open.

“Hey sweetheart,” Tom calls out.

“Baby,” you say, getting off the couch immediately to greet him.

Tom wraps you in a hug. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you mumble into his chest.

“Remember that take we did where you jumped at me?” Tom asks you.

You laugh. “Yeah, I do.”

“We decided to keep it in the film.”

“What?”

“We just loved that take the most, so we kept it.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” Tom smiles, kissing you.

“I just did that for fun, nothing serious.”

“The scene needed something like that. It’s gonna go over well with the audience, I promise you.”

You study Tom’s face. “I guess you’ve been producing films longer than I have…”

“You haven’t produced even one,” Tom teases.

“Hey!” you laugh, smacking his chest.

“Just wait, I promise it’ll take well.”

Months after that conversation with Tom, the movie finally released and you were doing a press tour with the cast.

One night in your hotel room, you’re scrolling through social media as Tom finishes getting ready for bed.

As you scroll through the movie’s hashtag, you see the same clip popping up all over the place - the clip of you lunging at Tom.

Every post is saying “if this isn’t how you hug me every day, I don’t want it”.

“Tom,” you say.

“Yes?” he replies.

“People are going crazy over that hug.”

“What did I tell you?”

You smile, setting your phone down and scooting across the bed to watch Tom in the bathroom.

“I know,” you say.

Tom walks out of the bathroom to you. He kisses the top of your head, and taps your legs, wanting you to move.

You scurry into a seated position next to Tom, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I love you,” he tells you.

“I love you too,” you reply, reaching up to give him a kiss.

[sphynxratedr]

I’m just thinkin thoughts okay. Lemme think my thoughts.

—

Steve feels /weird/ being affectionate

He’s not used to it..given his parents are never there and when they were they basically weren’t.

His girlfriends would enjoy the arm around their shoulder but push away when he’d go in for a cuddle.

Nancy was okay with more touched but once she started to think they were bullshit bullshit bullshit she pushed away too

And all Steve can think is that he was too much

So when he and Eddie start ,,, something

He makes sure he isn’t being too much. He lets Eddie initiate the touches, let’s Eddie start the kisses, the make outs. Let’s Eddie hold his hand.

He savoured those moments, copying them into memory. The feel of Eddies lips,his boney hands, his soft stomach. They all lasted a moment but Steve held onto what he could.

Eventually though, Eddie brings it up.

“Stevie?”

Steve was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast after Eddie slept over (again)

Steve hummed in reply

“Why..” Eddie started, biting his lip and playing with his hands. “Do you like when I touch you?”

Steve looked over to his..boyfriend? Boy-friend? Boy-more

“What?”

“Well yknow..you never really start anything with me” Eddie shrugged “is it..do you not wanna touch me?”

He whispered the last part, shoulders hunched up and arms wrapped around himself

“Ed’s no” Steve put down the spatula he was holding

“I just” he took a deep breath “I love touching you. I promise I do” he reached out and took one of eddies pinky’s into his hand

Not too much

“But see..when you do you barely even” eddie sighed pulling his hand away

“You haven’t done anything, I know you’re thinking that” steve grabbed his pinky again before going for his whole hand

“Im just..not used to affection. Yknow parents and all” he waved his free hand “and no one ever really liked when I would try to be affectionate..I was too affectionate. It probably scared people off, added to the bad boyfriend thing” he shrugged

Eddies eyebrows furrowed

“But you do like it? Touch?”

“Yes I like it..I love it. Makes me feel nice. Like you like me. I know you say it all the time and I know. But feeling it and knowing are different yknow? I like when you play with my hair or kiss my cheek. When you hug me from behind or grab my hand when you’re nervous”

Steve was blushing now, a pretty shade of pink

“And sometimes..well all the time. I wanna do it back to you. Make you feel like I like you too.. but I don’t ..want to be too much” Steve looked away

“Oh baby” Eddie frowned

“It’s okay”

“Don’t reassure me when you just said all that” Eddie huffed out a laugh

“Steve, touch is my love language. That’s why I’m doing all those things. I’m glad they make you feel like I like you because I do. I touch you because i like you. You can do the same, that’s why it’s a love language. I give it but I would also love to receive it” Eddie placed a hand onto Steve’s cheek

“You can touch me whenever you like stevie. There’s no rules to that..well given if we’re in public but you know that. You can kiss me whenever and hold my hand whenever and hug me whenever. I’m not gonna push you away”

Steve was blushing darker now, a shy smile on his face

“Are you sure?” He asked nervously, leaning further into eddies hand

“Yes baby love” Eddie smiled

After their talk, Steve tried to initiate touch more. It was difficult at first. His brain yelling him he was being too much, too needy. Caring too much

But every time steve would lean into Eddie, or kiss his hand or poke his side, Eddie would throw his arm around Steve’s shoulder. Point to his cheek or lips to get a proper kiss. He would open his arms wide and let Steve give him a full bear hug

Eventually Steve became more comfortable. Clinging onto eddies arm while Eddie talked to one of their friends on the sofa.

Laying on Eddies stomach as he read a book. He would giggle and nose at the older boys stomach as it rumbled randomly.

He would come up behind Eddie as he did the dishes or was looking at something on their dinner table and tug Eddie until he turned around and he would hug his around his middle, burying his face into his chest.

Steve would nuzzle his way into eddies arms while they were both facing each other in bed. He’d nose at eddies neck and leave soft kisses, turned bruises onto the skin.

And Eddie would let him, he would stretch out his neck and give him more access. Hold him tight and kiss his head as he buried himself into his chest. Play with his hair as he laid on his stomach. Hold onto Steve’s hand as he latched onto his entire arm.

He made sure Steve knew he welcomed his touch, craved his touch.

Made sure he knew he was never too much.

[bluehoodiewoozi]

Dreamers

Lee Seokmin (DK) x fem!reader

Genre: mostly fluff, with a hint of anxiety

Word Count: 10.9k

Wanings: food mentions. adult language. a few parts may come off as suggestive, but not really. y/n is an environmentalist but not vegan.

[Series: Serenity Street 17] Sleepwalking is a nasty issue. You find yourself in the correct building but wrong apartment, sharing a room with a ridiculously cute boy who seems to find it amusing.

Note: This one goes out to all of my ambitious girlies! Keep working towards your dreams!

The moment you stepped onto the evening bus you regretted the decision. 

With a bright smile, Sunny greeted you, rushing to move her bags into her lap so you could take the seat next to her, all while never once taking her eyes off you. Her brows rose in a questioning manner. You cursed under your breath as your neighbour’s usual warm smile morphed into a look of disbelief when you sank into the seat next to her.

With a sigh, you raised a hand to silence her. “I know.”

But she didn’t take the hint. “When was the last time you slept? Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Why do you keep asking questions you already know the answer to?” you whined and hugged your bag close to your chest. “I’m sure you heard me showering at 3 am.”

“The bags under your eyes aren’t supposed to make it look like you have a black eye,” she told you as if she hadn’t heard you at all, still eyeing you in worry. “How much did you sleep? You look worse than Jeonghan when he thought I was mad at him.”

“Does it matter?” You huffed. “At least I’m getting some rest.” 

“I think it only counts as rest if you actually get 8 hours of sleep every once in a while,” she countered with a snicker, “which, by the looks of it,” she gave you a once-over, followed by a disappointed a sigh, “you haven’t had in years.”

“I sleep just fine. I’m healthy, I am productive,” you defended and tightened your hold on your bag. “Sleep is for the weak anyway.”

Sunny rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder how you’re friends with me but not Jihoon. Your mentality is almost identical.”

“Listen, somebody has to do the work. And unlike some, I’d actually like my work to amount to something bigger than an average paycheck that barely covers my bills. I have ambitions. I want to make the world a better place.”

“Honey, at this rate you’re not gonna live long enough to see your ambitions come to life,” she grumbled under her breath and linked your arms. “It’s okay to rest every once in a while. Take a week off from work and actually just do something fun for a change.”

You grimaced. “I’d rather not. Messes with my groove.”

Sunny had no words left to say. She stared at you with a wide mouth for a moment before sputtering, “How– How are we friends?”

“Fate brought us together so you could nag me at all possible hours,” you joked, looking out the window now to avoid missing your stop. “But seriously, I don’t need to rest. I love my job and my colleagues and I’m making a change.”

“You should at least go to sleep early tonight.”

“Can’t. I have a big report due next week and I don’t want to miss my deadlines.”

Her gaze hardened immediately as she cursed, “Why, you little–”

“Hey!”

“I’m just worried about you,” she mumbled through a pout just as your bus arrived at your shared destination. With a begrudging sigh, she unlinked your arms and gave you an encouraging pat on the shoulder as the two of you stood up and walked over to the door “Well, I guess it’s your life. But I swear–” she pointed at your face, eyes squinted in a glare; she interrupted herself mid-sentence, “no, I vow that if you collapse under the stress, I’ll personally go and hand in a letter of resignation in your name.”

You scoffed at her empty promises, smiled, and stepped off the bus. You had no doubt you would be just fine and she was overreacting over nothing. She couldn’t wrap her mind around your work ethic and goals – she was built of an entirely different wood.

Then again, you couldn’t deny you often felt a little jealous of her. The nagging feeling hit once again when you looked up to find Jeonghan standing at the gate of your building, his smile widening the closer Sunny and you got to him. You envied that she had found – through trials and tribulations, you’d admit – a perfect man to brighten her days while you had no time to even contemplate romance.

“How was your day, my beautiful lady?” Jeonghan greeted your neighbour with a sweet kiss on her forehead before taking her bag and leading her inside with a hand on her back. He didn’t forget to offer you a welcoming smile and a friendly “good evening” as well, both of which you returned.

“Are you going to the 5th floor tonight?” you asked them as the three of you trudged up the stairs and they made no effort to walk to her apartment. 

Sunny nodded. “It’s movie night and he has the bigger TV.”

Jeonghan let out a loud ‘ha!’ and grinned at her victoriously. “So you admit it. My TV’s better than yours!”

“That’s–” She sighed deeply. “That is not the point right now–”

“How is it not?”

Unable to continue watching their lovers’ quarrel, you hummed and waved them goodbye before promptly unlocking your apartment, walking in, and quickly locking it again as if their bickering or cheesy nicknames could otherwise follow after you. 

You had far more important things to do, after all. 

With a tired sigh, you warmed up some of last night’s leftovers and opened your laptop. The familiar Times New Roman font on your screen prompted a soft groan, but still you squared your shoulders and got to work. 

If you were quick, you’d get this done way before the deadline. Maybe you could even go to work in the morning with a nearly finished report! You smiled at the thought. 

But life doesn’t always go as expected. 

You thought you were old enough to know this fact already. After all, when had life ever followed your expectations? It seemed to enjoy throwing curve balls right at your head.

You woke up with a splitting headache at 7 am, an hour before your usual alarm. It was strange – you concluded so as you stared at the time on your phone through a squint. With a soft huff, you let the phone drop back onto the mattress and your head onto the pillows.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you then heard a voice.

Your eyes snapped open. There was someone in your room. 

The voice sounded apologetic as it continued in a whisper, “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to make any noise. Sorry. Let me just get my shirt and–”

You sat up abruptly to stare at the intruder – a handsome familiar-looking man shuffled around the walk-in closet. Worst of all – he was shirtless. You dreaded to think of what had happened the night before.

“Who– Who are you?” you stuttered out, instinctively lifting the blanket higher against your torso despite the fact that you were fully clothed. “Why are you in my apart–” 

Then it hit you. The worst of the worst realities. 

“Holy shit, this isn’t my apartment!” you screamed and jumped out of bed to apologise profusely. “I’m so so sorry! I had no idea! I don’t how–”

“Hey, hey!” The man – now wearing a crispy white button-up shirt – walked out of the closet hurriedly, a worried smile on his face as he rushed to comfort you with a gentle hand on your back, leading you to sit back on the bed. “It’s okay.” He let out a laugh. “I was going to let you sleep for a while more. It’s okay.”

You had no clue how he could be so calm about this. What the hell happened last night?!

You stuttered. You sputtered. You gasped for air like a fish out of the water. You were on the verge of a panic attack at 7 am in the morning and he was smiling, all while patting and rubbing your back like it was the most natural thing. 

“Why am I here?” you eventually managed to breathe out. You hated to admit that his calm and friendly nature was helping you adjust to the situation.

He raised a brow, his soothing movements stopping. “I was hoping you could answer that.” 

When you made no move to do so and only offered him a puzzled look, he shrugged. “I woke up to someone trying to unlock my door at 2 am. Almost cried, actually, but then I heard a knock and Mingyu telling me to open the door, so I did and you…” He gestured widely to his room. “Well, you came in and went straight to bed as if it was your own home. I didn’t know what to do but Mingyu and I figured you needed to rest.”

You stared at him with a dropped jaw. “You didn’t think to call the police?”

“Well,” he grimaced, “I was going to but you really looked like you needed to sleep.” He gave you a worried look, inspecting your face. “You still do, actually. Do you sleep at all, like, outside of my bed?”

“I sleep plenty,” you scoffed and got out of the bed, wiping your face with your sleeves as if to rid it of any evidence that might suggest otherwise. With an awkward look, you bowed and began heading out. “Well, thank you for… your hospitality. I’ll get going. I’m sorry for bothering you. This won’t happen again.”

Before he could say another word, you slammed the door shut behind you and began heading… where were you heading?

You looked around the hallway. It was still your building. You could recognise these hallways even in your sleep. A quick glance informed you that you had just stepped out of apartment 1D – the apartment directly below yours.

You groaned as the realisation sank in that you could never visit the first floor without feeling awkward again. With a sigh, you headed up the stairs to your own apartment.

“Isn’t that Seokmin’s apartment?” Sunny pointed out when you told her of your horrible adventure on the bus home from work later that day. She frowned a little as she tried to recall exactly who lived there. 

“Whoever it was, at least it wasn’t Jihoon.” You shuttered to even think about it.

Sunny grimaced. “Yeah, I’d be bailing you both out of jail right about now.” She then shrugged. “Yeah, I think that’s Seokmin’s apartment. He really just let you stay the night there?”

“Apparently?” You wanted to laugh at the insanity of the situation. “I have no recollection of what happened or how I ended up there. The last thing I remember is working on my report in my kitchen and then waking up in a shirtless man’s apartment.”

“Shirt–” She almost broke her neck at the speed she turned her head to look at you with wide eyes. “He was shirtless when you woke up?!”

“He was getting dressed for work–”

“Well, is he hot?!”

You had never wanted to throw someone out of a moving vehicle so much before. “Is this what you’re focusing on right now? I’m going through a crisis here!”

“Yeah but–”

“You literally have a boyfriend!”

“Yeah, but–” She paused mid-excuse and nodded her head in acknowledgement. “Right. You have a point there.”

“How did I possibly end up in his apartment at night without remembering it?” you contemplated, leaning your head back against the seat. “I can’t think of a single explanation.”

“It is weird,” Sunny hummed in agreement as the bus rolled to your stop. The two of you got off. 

“Where’s Jeonghan?” you wondered in surprise upon not seeing him all the way up to the second floor.

Sunny shrugged, still deep in thought about your predicament. “I don’t know. Probably causing trouble with Junhui again. Possibly getting on Joshua’s or Hyesoo’s nerves. Maybe he stole someone’s mail or took the hinges off someone’s door. Not my problem.”

You could only stare at her in absolute wonder. “He’s your boyfriend.”

“He’s his own person.” She then clapped her hands together in revelation, stopping in her steps in the middle of the hallway. “Didn’t you say you used to sleep-walk as a kid? I swear you mentioned it over coffee once.”

You nodded. “Yeah, but it hasn’t happened in a literal decade.”

“Who’s to say it didn’t happen again last night?” she suggested with a shrug. “By the way, do you wanna come over for coffee and cake? Jeonghan bought one on sale because the expiration date is today, but it’s sort of giant.”

After contemplating for a moment (more of a debate really, won by the grumbling of your stomach), you agreed and followed her into her apartment. 

As the two of you walked into the kitchen, she continued, “All I’m saying is that there’s a lot going on in your life right now and maybe it all worked together – the stress, the lack of sleep, you get the gist – and now you’re sleepwalking again.”

“I sincerely doubt it.”

“You should see a doctor about that,” Jeonghan suggested. You jumped in your spot before finding him sitting at the dining table, fully focused on assembling a lego set. He continued without a care in the world, “Sleepwalking can be a serious issue.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”

He finally glanced up to offer you an amused look and a chuckle. “I’m her boyfriend. Where else would I be?”

“I invited her over for coffee and cake,” Sunny informed him with a kiss on his cheek. “Play nice.”

“Yes, princess,” he spoke in reply before turning back to you. “But I would really go to the doctor if I was you. If it’s bad enough that you wake up in someone else’s apartment, it’s bad enough to warrant a doctor’s visit.”

You felt yourself pale, your blood running both ice cold and lava hot. “How– Why do you know that?”

“It’s the talk of the town,” he joked before waving his joke off. “Just kidding. I met Seokmin on my way to the store earlier and he told me. He seemed worried about you.”

“So it is Seokmin!” Sunny cheered victoriously. “I knew it! I told you!”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Good job.”

“Thanks.”

You sat down at the table and slumped in the chair. “But if I’m sleepwalking, why did I go to his apartment?”

“Isn’t it right below yours?” Jeonghan pointed out like it was obvious. “Asleep you probably thought you were going to your own apartment. You just mixed up the floors.”

“So,” you sighed and rubbed the bridge of your nose before meeting his eyes and maintaining eye contact, “what you’re suggesting is that I fell asleep–”

“Yes.”

“–in my apartment–”

“Mhm.”

“–then left my apartment for some reason–”

“That much seems obvious.”

“–and then went to Seokmin’s apartment–”

“For some reason, yes.”

“–one level below my own?”

Eyes widening, he hummed at the slight error in the logic. “You do have a point. Why would you leave your own apartment to go to your apartment?”

“My head hurts just listening to this,” Sunny informed the two of you while serving the cake. As a slice fell over on a plate she quickly assigned to Jeonghan, she suddenly suggested, “What if you thought you were going on a walk and then returned home?”

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he began recounting, “So, what you think happened is that she fell asleep–”

“I’m going to kick the both of you out if you start again,” his girlfriend declared all of a sudden, pointing a knife in his direction. “I’m serious.”

“It is a reasonable guess though,” you decided as Sunny placed a plate of cake in front of you. “I do love going on walks when I’m stressed.”

“Then–”

A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. You watched in mild amusement as Sunny and Jeonghan silently argued over who should open the door and if they should open the door at all. Eventually, to your surprise, Jeonghan relented and got up with a slight groan. The moment he was out of the kitchen, Sunny stole his seat across from you.

“I think the worst part is that I don’t know how to face him again, like ever,” you started the conversation again while taking a bite of the cake. “It was so awkward.”

“Speaking of awkward,” Jeonghan announced and led the newest guest into the apartment. The now familiar feeling of both ice and lava in your veins made a new appearance as you recognised the visitor. Your spoon dropped back on the table.

Seokmin offered you a friendly smile and a wave. “Ah, so that’s where you are. I tried your door but no one answered so I wondered if I had the wrong place.”

“You–” That was the only syllable you managed to voice. Your brain was scattered, filled with pictures of the awkward morning as well as a single fluttering butterfly carrying an obnoxious sign that said ‘he cares’. You gulped. 

Thankfully, Sunny stepped in. She smiled brightly and ushered Seokmin to take a seat while she found an extra plate. 

“I wasn’t going to come and bother anyone–” he tried to reject the offer of cake, but failed to. He was too friendly for his own good – just like the rumours around the building often said. He sat in the seat Sunny had preoccupied just seconds ago, right across from you, and smiled at her. “Well, if you insist.”

“What can I do?” Jeonghan sighed and theatrically looked away as he started his monologue. “Everyone loves my girlfriend so much. How can I possibly keep her–”

“Stop being melodramatic and come eat, idiot,” Sunny laughed and took the seat next to you. “So, Seokmin, what brings you to my friend over here?”

Seokmin opened his mouth to reply before turning to you and softly asking, “Is it okay to talk about it here?”

Sunny chuckled. “About her waking up in your apartment? Go ahead. I think everyone in the building knows already.”

“Oh.” He offered you an awkward-looking smile. “Well, sorry about that. I only mentioned it to Mingyu and Jeonghan but I guess– Nevermind. I just wanted to tell you to not worry about it.” His smile brightened, genuine and full of warmth all of a sudden. “We all have rough days – and rough nights – and I’m just glad you got some rest.”

“I have one question,” Jeonghan raised his arm before asking, “where did you sleep?”

“Me?” Seokmin shrugged. “The sofa. There was a woman in my bed.”

You somehow felt both worse and better than before. At least you knew he didn’t hold a grudge – after all, he seeked you out just to tell you it had been fine – but at the same time: you made this poor man sleep on the sofa instead of his objectively comfortable bed.

“I’m so sorry–”

“I said it’s fine,” he laughed and reached out to pat your hand. “I really don’t mind. You looked like you were sleeping very well. But–” he tilted his head in thought, a slight frown appearing, “–is it possible you were sleepwalking? You didn’t react at all last night, to anything. You just… brushed past us like we weren’t even there. I don’t know if you even had your eyes open.”

Sunny all but slammed her spoon on the table to give you a haughty look. “Yep. Told you. You were sleepwalking.”

You frowned. “I guess it’s possible.”

“Should I…” Seokmin scrunched up his nose in thought. “Should I maybe keep a look out in case this happens again?”

Immediately you shook your head. “No. No need. It was a one-time thing. A fluke. It was nothing. Won’t happen again.” In your attempts to not look at him, you happened to eye the clock. Your jaw dropped. “Oh. I should go home. I have–”

“–a report due in a week and deadlines to meet,” Sunny finished for you with a laugh. “I know, I know. Go.”

Jeonghan spoke up as well, “Take the plate and another slice of cake before you go. I want to know you eat at least a little between your work.”

You did as you were told and made your escape without another word, not even a goodbye to Seokmin. 

You had no time to feel guilty or consider that your heart fluttered a little at the thought of him coming to find you. Once again, you buried your feelings into lines of Times New Roman in your report.

“Oh, you come here too?” you heard his voice just two days later at the grocery store. 

It was a little surprising to find him there: the store was a good mile further from the one closest to your building. Like a startled owl, you stared and blinked at him in the cereal aisle. 

As you opened your mouth to respond, he chuckled and looked away at the cereals. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to talk to me. I just needed to get some Fruit Loops and figured I might as well say hi.” He placed the cereal in question into his basket and offered you one more friendly smile and a playful wave. “So, hi!”

“Hi,” you managed to drag out as you lifted your hand in a wave. 

With a chuckle, he turned and headed away to the next aisle. You thought you were free from him for the day. 

But alas: you found him again when you went to get eggs. He seemed to be contemplating between two brands. You tried your best to go unnoticed as you searched for your favourite local free range brand. To you dismay, he stood right in front of the eggs you seeked. 

“Excuse me,” you started and tapped his shoulder when he didn’t seem to notice.

He smiled upon recognising you. “Yeah?”

“Could you move? I want those eggs.”

“The expensive ones?” He raised an eyebrow and handed you a carton. “They’re almost triple the price of the store brand.”

“But they’re free range and locally sourced. You should try them,” you explained with the slightest bit of enthusiasm before placing eggs into your cart and walking away in the direction you thought him least likely to follow. 

You truly thought you were free of him when you went to the checkout, but once again, as if tasked by god himself to be wherever you went, Seokmin was in front of you in queue, meticulously placing his items on the counter. As he turned to put away his basket, his eyes found yours and a bright smile appeared on his face. “Oh, it’s you again!”

“It’s me again,” you replied with an awkward laugh. 

“Are you leaving too?” he wondered while fishing his bag for his wallet. When you nodded, his eyes lit up. “Do you need a ride home?”

Your eyes widened. “A ride?” 

Why was he offering you a ride home? Why was he so friendly with you at all? You had broken into his apartment – in the eyes of the legal system anyway – and he was smiling at you like you were a beloved friend. 

“Of course. We should stick together, no? We’re neighbours, after all– Hold on,” he interrupted himself to respond to the cashier, “Yes, by card please.Thank you.”

“You might have to wait a moment then,” you finally relented when he turned to you once again, eyes resembling a puppy. His smile widened at your words and he nodded. 

The ride home was short and awkward. You greatly feared he would try to retaliate for the emotional damage you might’ve caused by sleeping in his apartment. To your relief, he did not such thing and only continued cheerfully chattering.

“–but I feel like a dog would be too much work, you know? I love dogs but I don’t have that kind of time.” He offered you a glance. “Do you have any pets?”

You scrunched up your face in thought as the car rolled to a stop in the parking lot of the building. “I have a cactus.”

“... Does it have a name?”

Eager to not disappoint, you blurted out the first name that came to mind: “Bertha.” You shut your eyes in shame.

But as the two of you got out of his small red car, he laughed. “Bertha? Sounds lovely. Is she high-maintenance?”

“Very.”

“Yeah?”

You decided you liked his laughter and the bright smile that came with. “Easier than a dog though.”

He laughed louder at that and handed you your grocery bags. “I bet. Maybe I should get a cactus too.”

“I highly recommend,” you chuckled, finding his laughter contagious. “It’s very fulfilling to watch it do absolutely nothing all-year-round.”

When the two of you got into the hallway, he paused in front of the staircase. As you were about to ask him about it, he asked, “Do you need help with your bags?”

“No, I’m–”

“They look heavy.” He frowned before holding up a single finger, jogging over to his door, dropping his singular bag in front of it, and running back to you. Before you could formally protest, he grabbed the bags from your hands and began the journey up the stairs. When you froze in your spot, he turned to ask, “Well, aren’t you coming? Or were you going to sleep at mine again?”

Your face burned at the teasing comment. You decided following after him was the lesser evil. 

“There we go,” he cheered when the two of you reached your door. He rubbed his hands against his thighs a few times, awkwardly like a schoolboy, before smiling and waving goodbye. “I guess this is goodbye for the day. It was nice talking to you.”

You didn’t manage to even thank him before he was already halfway down the stairs. Maybe you made him as nervous as you made him. As you went to sleep that night, you replayed the interaction over and over again in your head, failing to hide a smile at the memory.

The valley of the mattress had a hold over you. You had never been so comfortable waking up – well, with the exception of maybe once or twice. 

The pillows were the perfect temperature, the blanket hugged you just right, the big teddy bear you hugged to your chest smelled fresh out of the washing machine– 

“Since when do I have a teddy bear?” you grumbled in confusion and pried your eyes open. You felt all blood rush away from your face as you looked at the bear – light brown with a baby blue bow, its eyes shining up at you. 

You had never even seen this bear before.

Cursing under your breath, you glanced around the room. You were back in your very own personal hell full of flowing beige curtains, white unfamiliar sheets, and teddy bears: the hell known as Seokmin’s apartment.

The realisation brought tears of frustration to your eyes, but you were too stubborn to let them loose. It was barely 8 am but you were already on the verge of crying – what a joke.

Wiping your eyes, you all but slammed the bear down on the bed (you’ll never admit you did feel a little bad about it seconds later and gave it a little pat on the head) and stood up. You stumbled out of the bedroom and towards the front door. 

As you reached for the doorknob – the final obstacle on your journey out of hell –, you heard his voice, sweet as honey like always, “Oh, you’re not going to stay for breakfast?”

You froze.

“I made extra waffles and all,” he added, sounding a little dejected. You didn’t have the heart to tell him no, so you sighed softly and turned around to give him a tight-lipped not-quite-genuine smile. His own grin brightened at the sight. “Is that a yes? You’ll stay?”

“Only for the waffles,” you lied and took a seat at his table. 

He laughed and placed a plate of fresh food in front of you before taking the seat across from you. “Not because you don’t want me to feel bad?”

“No,” you grabbed a fork and began filling it with food, “I just don’t like food waste.”

“Oh, right! Minghao said you work for an environmental company. That sounds cool.”

“Yeah?” You swallowed your food. “What about you? What do you do for work?”

He cleared his throat as though the question had caught him by surprise and he was too shy to say. After a moment of silence, he bashfully admitted, “I’m a music teacher at primary school.”

You blinked in surprise. “A music teacher?”

“Well, I wanted to be a singer– a musical actor, actually,” he explained, his voice fluctuating in volume and his ears bright red, “but I’m a little too shy to audition. So I just stuck with teaching others to sing.”

“That’s so cool though,” you told him with a smile. “Are you good at singing?”

His ears seemed to turn an even deeper red. “My friends think so but I don’t know. I think there’s still a lot of room for improvement.”

“Then why not audition? You only live once.”

He seemed thoughtful all of a sudden, watching your increasingly awkward self. You were just about ready to apologise for your possibly intrusive question when he softly asked, “Why not rest and live a little? You only live once, right?” 

The question felt awfully pointed and you didn’t fail to let him know with a glare. 

“I’m serious,” he declared, his lips pouting a little as if he was actually upset at your lack of self-care. “Whenever I see you, you’re always rushing somewhere. The only person you seem to be friends with is Sunny, and maybe Jeonghan by association.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself. “I’m also friends with Minghao–”

“He barely even leaves his apartment. He doesn’t count.”

“He counts!”

“Do I count?”

“Of course you–” Your eyes widened as did his smile. 

“We’re friends now!” he declared while pointing an accusatory finger at you, his voice raising in excitement. You began to protest but he was having none of it. “No take-backs! We’re friends – you just said so!”

“I didn’t actually–”

“Nope. No. We’re friends.” He narrowed his eyes at you, his smile never fading. “Or do you just sleep in random guys’ beds?”

You wanted to protest, you really did, but there’s only so much you can say to defend yourself against such accusations. Besides, his bright smile at your defeated nod could’ve won awards.

Accidentally waking in his apartment didn’t end. No. In fact, it somehow got worse.

Once every week quickly turned into once every few days. You were tempted to start keeping track of how often you woke up in your own bed but one could assume the numbers wouldn’t be too impressive. 

You grew accustomed to the smell of his detergent and the smell of breakfast in the mornings. Was this what it might’ve been like to be in a relationship? 

“How come you’ve never dated anyone?” he wondered once over breakfast.

You shrugged. “I don’t have the time.”

“Too busy saving the world?” he teased like he often did. Over time you stopped finding it annoying (perhaps because he sounded almost genuinely proud of you every time he said it). 

“I assume you don’t get a lot of dates either,” you bit right back between bites of pancakes.

He seemed to be taken aback by your observation. “What makes you think that?”

“You sleep with a teddy bear, Seokmin,” you deadpanned. 

He pouted. “Fluffy is a premium sleep companion.”

You laughed. “Is he?”

“You steal him every other night!” he accused with a chuckle. “I’m sure you know how great he is by now.”

“He’s truly a– What did you say? A premium sleep companion?”

“That’s what the label said when I got him.”

“Maybe I should invest in a bear too,” you wondered thoughtfully between bites. 

Seokmin raised an eyebrow. “Then why don’t you?”

“No ti–”

“If you make the ‘no time’ excuse again, I will scream,” he said with in utmost seriousness. You promptly shut up: Seokmin’s lung capacity was well-known by everyone in the building.

After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat. “You know, if it’s physical contact that you need to sleep– Nevermind. How are the pancakes?”

Whether it was to save your or his dignity, you chose to ignore his first comment and answered only the last question, “Their colour is nicer than usual. I like the golden colour.”

“I guess the free range eggs really do make a difference,” Seokmin mused with a chuckle. When you offered him a surprised look, he hummed in confusion. “What?”

“You bought free range eggs? Didn’t you say they were too expensive last time?”

He shrugged. “I figured I might as well try to make some more ethical choices while shopping. Besides, you recommended them–”

Your eyes welled up a little. “You bought more expensive eggs because I recommended them?”

“And because I care for animals,” he added in a little too fast. 

You laughed and nodded. “For the animals, right. Me too.”

“Do you ever rest from your work?” he wondered after a moment. “What do you do outside of it?”

“I… don’t know. I read. I like to clean.”

“But what about going to festivals? Swimming? Cycling? Dancing?” He grew more and more desperate as you rejected every hobby he offered. “No wonder you’re so tired all of the time! You’re a workaholic.”

You snorted. “Sunny did say I’m similar to Jihoon.”

“I didn’t think it was this bad.”

“I think he’s worse though.”

“Oh, definitely, but he doesn’t go to sleep in his neighbours’ beds,” Seokmin pointed out with a look of worry. As he watched you for an exactly uncomfortable amount of time, his eyes eventually lit up again. “I have an idea. What are you doing tomorrow evening?”

“Working–”

“I swear if I hear that word one more time, I will scream.”

You, once again, promptly shut up. 

“Great,” he beamed and clapped his hands together, “I’ll text you to details later.”

“You’re not even going to tell me what we’re doing?”

You sighed in disappointment as he smiled brightly and shook his head ‘no’. 

A knock on your door notified you of his arrival. Despite being sure it wasn’t meant to be a date and knowing that Seokmin had seen you in far worse condition, you still took a deep breath and gave yourself a quick once-over at the mirror.

When you opened the door, he smiled at you brightly. “I see you’ve dressed up too.”

“I would hardly call this dressed up,” you told him rather sheepishly, suddenly even more aware of you appearance. “You look very dapper as well.”

“Yep, and do you want to know why?” 

“Why?”

His smile widened so much you worried for his cheeks. “Because you and I are going to the theatre.”

“The theatre?” You paled at the mention and looked down at your outfit. “I feel like I’m underdressed then.”

“You look fine,” he laughed and grabbed your hand. “Let’s go or we’ll be late. And trust me,” he widened his eyes for dramatic effect, “you don’t want to be late.”

You gave in begrudgingly and locked the door as fast as you could while he practically bounced at your side in excitement. 

“What are we going to watch then?” you finally remembered to ask when you entered the theatre less than 15 minutes later. “I swear, if you dragged me here to watch an opera–”

“It’s a musical, actually,” he admitted bashfully. “I love musicals and I don’t know much about other theatre performances so I thought– But if you don’t like musicals, that’s–”

“I don’t mind musicals,” you told him with a little laugh and pat on his shoulder. “But I have to admit, it has been ages since my last time at the theatre, and I haven’t seen a musical in a few years at least.”

“That’s fine. I’ll guide you through it.” And as if the last shy bone had left his body, he grabbed your hand and led you to your seats, all the while widely smiling at you and giving your hand periodical squeezes of encouragement. 

His hand never left yours for the duration of the musical, not even for intermission, not even when he ordered cake from the theatre café to hold you over until after the show. His hand remained warm in yours, fingers squeezing a little tighter every once in a while, his thumb running over the back of your hand. 

It was so warm, so comforting. Just his presence alone was enough to make you dizzy with the feeling of safety and happiness. His touch? You were floating on cloud 9 with zero regard for what was going on below – or on the stage, for that matter.

Frankly, you could barely remember to watch the musical because you were so busy marvelling at the feel of his hand in yours. 

“That was so good,” he excitedly told you as the two of you returned to your apartment. “The music was phenomenal.”

“The actors were very good.” And that was the only contribution you could make to the conversation because you definitely hadn’t paid any attention to the plot and your knowledge of music was simply not there.

But thankfully, that seemed to be far more than enough. His eyes gleamed as he sat onto your sofa and gestured widely while speaking, “Right? The leading woman was just– Incredible, fantastic. Her range! I’m a little jealous, actually.”

You took the seat next to him. To your surprise, his hand found yours once again, wasting no time in interlocking your fingers. And just like that, paying attention to anything else became difficult. 

Were you really developing a crush on him? Just like that? You refused. You were too busy to be pining after a man. 

But when slid closer to your side and looked at you like you were the most wonderful person to ever exist, you suddenly didn’t care about the lack of time. Screw it. You’d make time if it meant you got to see his star-filled eyes again. 

“... Sorry, what?” you coughed out when he paused and looked at you expectantly.

He laughed. “You’re so cute. I asked if you wanted to go see another musical with me someday.”

“I’d love to,” you blurted out without thinking. 

Yeah. Screw deadlines. 

“Okay, perfect!” His smile brightened up the entire room as he rested his head on your shoulder. “Because I heard they’re doing Excalibur next season and I desperately need a friend to go watch it with me. I saw the premise and heard a preview of one of the songs and they’re holding auditions next month and I am already obsessed–”

Your brain was barely functioning at all, and yet you could recall one single memory from the depths of it. A dream he had shared. “Then why don’t you audition?”

He sat up abruptly, looking at you as if you were insane. “I couldn’t possibly–”

“Why not?” you asked. “I heard you singing the other day. You’re really good. I think you could get any part pretty easily.”

His ears turned more red with every word you said. “You flatter me…”

“I’m serious, Seokmin!”

“I’m not that good. And I have zero acting experience, aside from a few courses I did in college. Why would they ever pick me?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” you countered and he scoffed.

“I can think of a few–”

“You never know if you don’t try,” you told him and raised your hand to brush a stray hair off his forehead. “I’m rooting for you.”

As your words faded into the night and your eyes met, you wondered if he could feel the sparks flying and bursting all around you as well. Did he also feel that overwhelming adoration for you? 

He sighed after a while, a bashful smile on his face. “You must be tired. It’s been a long night. Go to sleep.”

“I really should,” you yawned as if on cue. You shared a laugh at the timing.

He squeezed your hand one last time. “Well, good night then. I expect I’ll find you at my apartment in the morning–”

“Or you could stay here and we don’t have to worry about that,” you blurted without thinking. Your face flashed hot right after. 

Had there been any alcohol in that cake he bought for you? Why were you feeling so bold all of a sudden? 

“I–” He seemed speechless.

“I don’t know why I said that,” you rushed out and avoided his eyes. “I think I’m just really tired and work has been stressful and maybe my brain is just broke–”

He placed his hand behind your neck and led your head to rest against his chest as he rubbed comforting circles on your back. You could hear his body rumble with laughter as he held you. “I’d love to stay over. Besides,” he pushed you away just enough to look you in the eyes again, “I think it’s only fair that I get to sleep over this once, because you sleep over at my place a lot.”

You frowned and pouted. “It’s not like I mean to–”

“A lot,” he repeated with wide eyes and a teasing smile before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “But it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

When you recounted the half-embarrassing and yet half-lovestruck happenings of the previous night to Sunny on the way back from work, she stared at you in bafflement.

“You actually asked him to sleep over?” she gasped, hand over her heart as if she was a peasant woman of the 16th century hearing the most scandalous gossip. “You little vixen!”

“Nothing happened,” you insistently told her as the two of you stepped off the bus.

She huffed. “That’s honestly so boring. I mean, have you seen that man? What I wouldn’t give to–”

“I am once again reminding you that you already have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t know what we’re into in the bedroom,” she countered with a smirk.

You only now realised how much Jeonghan was rubbing off on her. She was becoming a second him, slowly but surely. Couple of the year.

“I’m taking away your friend privileges, Sunny,” you told her at that and rushed ahead to avoid hearing any more weirdly Jeonghan-like jokes from her. 

She laughed at that before running after you. “Okay, okay, no more dirty jokes.”

“Thank god,” you sighed towards the sky.

“So, did any sleepwalking occur?” she then asked before humming in thought. “Well, I imagine if it had, I would’ve heard about it by now. It would’ve been quite a sight to see Seokmin running after an asleep you towards his apartment at 2 am.”

“I didn’t sleepwalk.” 

And frankly, if you had, Seokmin must have done a very good job of getting you back to your own bed because you woke up exactly how and where you fell asleep – wrapped in his arms, head resting in the crook of his neck. 

Sunny suddenly stopped in spot. Her eyes wide, her lips parted. She pointed an accusatory finger at you, “Wait, does that mean you two are dating now?”

You weren’t sure you had the answer. And you wouldn’t have time to find the answer for a while.

“Good morning!” you heard Seokmin’s voice before you even opened your eyes.

Unlike the previous few times, disappointment filled you as realisation hit. You groaned and turned over to bury your face in his numerous pillows, hoping you could suffocate yourself out of a mildly infuriating nightmare.

Seokmin clicked his tongue. “Not quite the greeting I was expecting, especially considering I was greeted with a hug the last time we shared a bed.”

“Shut it.”

“Oh, you’re mean today.”

“Did I fall asleep mid-work again?” you sighed and slowly sat up to glare at nothing in particular. Seokmin went to great lengths to avoid whatever direction to directed your deadly look to. “God, I bet I didn’t even make it to the second graph– I’m not gonna have time to go to the office for work today.”

He stared at you curiously. “So, work from home? I mean, if you have the possibility.”

“Yeah, but then I’ll get distracted and then I still won’t end up doing anything,” you whined before falling back into the pillows. You wanted to cry just at the thought of that stupid report waiting on your idle laptop. 

“Why are you so stressed about this report anyway? I don’t think you were ever this upset over any other reports.”

“If this project report goes through, and we pull off this project – which I still have to plan, oh my god, I am so far behind–”

Seokmin laughed at your frantic movements and moved over to place his hands on your shoulders and keep you still. “Hey, hey, don’t get distracted. If the project goes through…?”

You took a deep breath. “If the project goes well, I will get a promotion. Less hours, better pay.” You sighed. “Then maybe I’ll be able to get a dog like I’ve always wanted.”

“That sounds wonderful! We should celebrate with breakfast,” he suggested with a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

But as tempting as it sounded, you simply didn’t have any time to chat. You had work to do. And so, you stood up, fixed your hair, gave Seokmin an affectionate yet half-hearted pat on the back and headed for the door. 

You couldn’t wait to spend your day in complete lonely misery. At work you at least had friends to talk between sections. All you had in your apartment was Bertha and instant coffee.

And it was as if Seokmin knew it just from the way you spoke to him that morning. 

When the clock struck twelve, you heard a timid knock on your door. Confused at the noise and a little disoriented from the five pages of words you had written, you stood up and went to the door. 

Your heart grew three sizes when you saw him standing there, looking so awfully huggable in his large white hoodie and grey sweatpants, glasses on his nose accompanied by a kind smile. You were so surprised to find him there that you failed to consider why he came. 

He had to nudge you with the plastic bag he was holding for you to even notice it.

“Sorry,” you stammered and stepped aside to let him in, “I’m just a little-”

“Stress? Overworked? Confused because you’ve been staring at a 15-inch screen for the past three hours?” he suggested and brought the bag to the kitchen. “That’s okay. Don’t even mind me.” He smiled as he nodded towards your laptop. “Go on. Work waits. The sooner you get to it, the sooner it’ll be done.”

Disoriented as you were, you didn’t dare argue and slowly walked back to your previous seat at the coffee table, all the while watching him cautiously. 

As your fingers landed on the keyboard, he began lifting things out of the bag. You watched in awe as he stacked snacks and vegetables onto the counter. 

Feeling your eyes on him, he lifted his head to glare at you. “Work.”

“Work,” you repeated on instinct and turned back to your laptop. He laughed a little at your robotic tone. 

Some 20 minutes later, you felt a presence next to you. When you turned to face it, Seokmin was holding an fruit slice up at your lips. 

“Eat,” he told you softly. You did as told.

“What are you doing?” you asked between confused laughter and chewing. Your eyes landed on the bowl of fruits he had placed in front of you. 

He shrugged. “Taking care of you. You seemed so upset this morning… I thought it would be nice to spend my free day helping you.”

Your eyes widened. “It’s your free day? And you’re here? You should be resting!”

“Watching you is all the rest I need,” he winked playfully before lifting another fruit to your lips. “Now, eat up. This is lunch. I’ll make something better for dinner.”

“You don’t have to–” 

He took this chance to shove a piece of apple into your mouth, effectively interrupting your speech. “I will, and I don’t care what you say.”

He glanced around the apartment as you began to eat the fruits on your own. “When was the last time you opened a window?”

You watched curiously as he stood up (with a groan because his bones simply weren’t as nimble as they used to be) and headed over to the windows, opening a few to air out the room. As he did so, he told you, “They say that good airflow and fresh air help the thought process. We air out the classrooms between every lesson so the next students won’t get too tired.”

“I don’t think I’ve opened any windows in here since I first moved in,” you confessed before turning back to your laptop. Before you could your train of thought again, a soft fabric was placed on your shoulders. You looked up to find him smiling at you brightly. “So you won’t get cold.”

“What about you then?”

He shrugged and winked. “I’ll just consider this my daily walk in the park.” He then looked around the apartment again, as if looking for something to do. You couldn’t help but find it endearing. 

“Maybe… you could… make me a cup of tea?” you suggested.

He lit up at the idea. “Coming right up!”

Before heading to the kitchen, he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. It seemed almost like a reflex – like he didn’t even need to think about doing it. 

Relishing in the leftover warmth of his lips and the feel of his hoodie on your skin, your work took a backseat for a while. Instead of thinking about your project of a lifetime, your brain was drowning in one singular question. You glanced towards the kitchen to watch him, a smile appearing on your face as you did. 

“Seokmin?” you called out softly after a moment. 

He hummed in response immediately, eyes lifting from the cup he was preparing so he could offer you an encouraging smile. 

You took a deep breath. “What are we?”

He paused. “What do you mean?”

“You and I. What are we to each other?” you wondered, unable to look away from him. There was something you badly wanted to hear him say and yet feared at the same time. “What are you to me?”

The corners of his lips twitched. “I… I’ll be whatever you’d like me to be.”

“Whatever? A friend?”

“If that’s what you wish,” he breathed out, a little shakier than before.

“What about a lover?”

He smiled. “If you so wish.”

“Then… what do you want me to be?” you asked him quietly, a part of you praying your words would go missing in the incoming wind before they reached him. 

“I just…” He bit his lip in contemplation, ears turning red, and avoided your eyes.

“What do you want me to be to you, Seokmin?” you repeated your question, a little bolder this time, hope sparking in your heart.

He looked up again, into your eyes. “Mine.” You let out a breath – of relief or fear, you weren’t sure – but he didn’t hesitate when he repeated, “I want you to be mine.”

You felt guilty for the words you’d utter next. “But we don’t have the time for that…”

“That’s okay,” he assured you with a kind smile. “We’ll take it slow.”

“Slow? How slow do we take it?”

“As slow as you need. I’m not leaving.”

“I signed up for the auditions,” he told you over breakfast a few days later. “Jihoon’s helping me prepare.”

You were still neck-deep in your project, struggling to meet the deadlines and coordinate your team. This seemed to lead the asleep you to Seokmin’s apartment more often than not. It was almost like you woke up in his bed every morning now. 

But even in your despair, you couldn’t help but be excited for Seokmin.

Your eyes lit up and a squeal came out as you grabbed his hand over the table. “Really? You did?!”

He used his free hand to rub the back of his neck bashfully. “Well, you said I should give it a try, right? Who knows,” he shrugged, trying his best to seem nonchalant or even fake a little bit of confidence, “maybe they’ll give me a part.”

“I’m sure they will,” you insisted, squeezing his hand. “Your voice is amazing and you’re so handsome – the ladies are going to swoon when they see you on the stage.”

He laughed. “Will you be one of those ladies?”

“I’ll be in the front row,” you solemnly promised. “At every show. You’ll get sick of seeing me.”

“I could never,” he assured you.

Seokmin’s audition would take place two weeks later. You made sure the mark the day with a big red circle on your calendar – on all three of them, in fact. And now it was time.

Between your seemingly endless stream of project complications and Seokmin’s daytime job and audition preparations, you barely saw him. If it weren’t for your persistent sleepwalking problem, you wouldn’t have seen him at all. And so, the curse had became a blessing. 

“You’ll do great,” you assured him minutes after waking up in his bed. You made sure to give him the warmest hug before letting him leave the room. “I believe in you. And so does Jihoon, apparently.”

Seokmin pouted. “Did he say that or are you lying to make me feel better?”

“We talked yesterday,” you told him, appalled that he’d even accuse you of such atrocities. “He said he has complete faith that you’ll do well.”

“I don’t believe you but–”

“Do you want to fight me? Already?” You raised a brow and he shook his head immediately. “Exactly. Just accept the compliment. And don’t forget to call me when you finish, okay?”

“Of course,” he promised.

He kept that promise. Just as he stepped out of the theatre, his shaky hands picked up the phone and chose your number. 

You answered the call with prep in your voice. It had been a good day so far and you were expecting to hear his no-doubt joyous retellings of the audition.

What you weren’t expecting was: “Can you come get me? I think I might cry.”

“Why, why?” Despite your words, you didn’t hesitate to slam your laptop closed and grab your jacket. “Are you okay? Were they mean?”

“They weren’t mean,” he mumbled on the other side of the line, “but I don’t think I did well.”

“I’m sure you did wonderful,” you spoke while rushing down the street. Thankfully, the theatre was barely a five-minute walk from your office – half that at your current pace. “You’re just putting yourself down over nothing.”

Seokmin whined. “You’re seriously overestimating me.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“No, I’m serious. You overestimate me.”

As you crossed the street, you noticed a familiar figure dragging his feet along the pavement, head low and shoulders slumped. “Now why would I do that?”

“Because you like me a little more than you should,” he suggested while kicking a pebble. You could already hear his voice even without the phone. “I’m sure the directors think I’m a joke or something. God, I am so–”

“Don’t you dare say another bad word about yourself,” you scolded him with a gentle slap against the back of his head. 

He stared at you in bewilderment – both from the fact that you might as well have appeared from thin air and the fact that you just did that. 

But you were unrelenting in your affection for him. “Lee Seokmin, listen to me: you did absolutely great. You did your best. And even if you don’t get a part this time, they’ll value the fact that you now have experience with auditions. Take it in stride.”

Tears gathered in his eyes. Before long, he pulled you into his embrace, holding you impossibly tight. “You’re just saying that… Thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for, silly,” you laughed and hugged him back just as tightly. “I think we should celebrate this occasion.”

“Even if I screwed up and don’t get the part?”

You scoffed. “Absolutely! A little cake can make everything better, no?”

He sighed. “I don’t think I can eat right now. I might throw up from the nerves.”

“Drink then?”

He contemplated and then straightened up. “I could go for some bubble tea…”

“There we go!” you cheered and gently pinched his cheeks, prompting a small giggle. “My treat because you did so well today and I’m so proud of you.”

This time it was you who grabbed his hand without any hesitation, more than happy to reassuringly squeeze it as you walked and talked. 

“When will you get the answer?” you wondered.

He sucked in a breath. “In about a week, they said. Or maybe never–”

“Seokmin,” you scolded.

“In a week,” he corrected himself with some enthusiasm. “I’ll get answers in a week. And then I might actually cry.”

“And I’ll be there when you cry tears of joy, darling.”

“Tears of joy?” He raised a brow and smiled in disbelief. “You seriously put too much faith in me.”

You nudged his side. “As if you haven’t been equally supportive about my promotion.”

“Oh, right,” Seokmin gasped, “won’t your promotion interview be in a week too?”

You would’ve preferred he didn’t remind you. Then again, you guessed it was only fair. 

“Will you come over to hold me when I cry too?”

“Tears of joy?” he teased and leaned over to kiss your temple. “I’ll be just a call away.”

The week somehow passed at both the pace of a snail and the pace of Junhui on a sugar rush. 

After finding you in his bed every single morning, Seokmin resorted to just sleeping over at your place, tightly cuddling you to keep you in place. He now had a whole drawer dedicated to his things in your bedroom. 

The day started okay. You were awoken not by a loud alarm like you had expected, but by Seokmin gently singing you awake. 

For a moment, you thought you had died and gone straight to heaven – maybe working so hard to save the environment had paid off after all, you thought. But no, it was just your reality. 

What a beautiful reality. You couldn’t help but smile as you cuddled into his chest.

“If you keep clinging onto me like that, I won’t be able to make my famous waffles for a lucky breakfast,” he whispered but made no attempt to push you away. 

The delicious breakfast was followed by an encouraging hug on the way out of the building, him to the school and you to the office. You wore a smile the entire time.

Up until you made it to your desk. Then the reality began sinking in. 

This was the day that could make or break your career. The day you had worked so hard for that you neglected your private life for so many years.

As the clock on the wall slowly ticked forward, your hands began to shake. Your throat was dry. Your head was fuzzy, full of nothing but anxiety. If someone had asked you about anything, you would’ve only been able to stare at them with a mouth wide open.

20 minutes until your scheduled interview. You were starting to feel sick. 

When another colleague came to give you a supportive pat on the back, you excused yourself and grabbed your phone to rush outside to the balcony. You sat on a chair and willed yourself to take deep breaths as you tapped on his number.

You wanted to slap yourself when you realised that you hadn’t even bothered to check if he was on break yet.

But he answered on the first ring. “Hey, what’s up? Did you have the interview alread–”

“Seokmin, I can’t do this,” you whimpered into the microphone. “I can’t do this. They’re gonna realise I’m an idiot and they’ll fire me and–”

“Woah, woah, what happened to your positive can-do attitude?” he wondered. “You’ll be fine.”

“No–”

“(Y/n),” he said your voice so firmly that your breath got caught in your throat. “(Y/n), you will be fine. You’ve worked there for so many years, you’ve achieved so many things. If they wanted to fire you, they would’ve done that by now.”

You took a shaky breath. “What if it’s an elaborate prank?”

“Why would– Baby, listen to me. You’ve worked hard. You put everything you had into that project – I was there, I saw it. You and your ideas are invaluable to your company. They’re going to ask you a few questions as a formality and they’re going to give that promotion and then you and I are going to go to a celebratory dinner and it’ll all be over.”

“And I can get a dog?” you whispered, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You can get two dogs if you want, baby,” he laughed. “You deserve it. Don’t underestimate yourself. I believe in you and I’m sure your co-workers do as well.”

“How do you always know the right words to say?”

He laughed once again. “Baby, I’m a teacher. I’m literally trained to comfort people. I’m just glad I’m able to comfort you as well.”

“Thank you.”

“No need,” he responded, “just go and ace that interview. Okay?”

“And then you’ll come and wipe my happy tears?”

“You already know the answer to that question. But I expect the same treatment when I get my audition results.”

“Will do.”

“Go and get them, tiger.”

You weren’t sure what it was, but something about the conversation seemed to have lifted the weight off your shoulders. When you walked back to the office, the upcoming interview no longer felt as taunting. 

As the clock hit 2 pm, you squared your shoulders, took a deep breath and headed to your manager’s office.

When the day ended, you found Seokmin standing in front of the office building, a blinding smile on his face. 

“Well?” he asked expectantly, though the look in his eyes said that he had every faith that you would only give him good news. You were glad to prove him right. 

Your coy smile was replaced with joyous laughter as you ran to hug him and called out, “I got the job!”

“You got it? You got it!” he cheered with you, jumping up and down with you in his arms, not far from spinning you around in the air. “I knew you would! What did I tell you? Silly you,” he let you out of his hold to place his hands on your cheeks and pull your face closer to his own, “you thought you wouldn’t get the promotion. Look at you now. I’m so proud of you.”

You breathed out in relief. The smile seemed to never stop tugging on your cheeks. “I’m so relieved I could cry.”

“Then who will dry my happy tears?” he teased with a bright smile.

You tilted your head in confusion. “Wait–”

“I got the part,” he whispered, his smile only growing wider, eyes sparkling. “I’m going to become a musical actor, officially.”

“Oh my god!” you practically squealed and now it was your turn to hug him and jump. He was glad to join you, laughing in glee. “I knew you could do it! I knew it!”

As joy got the best of you – and who could blame you: this was the happiest day of your life so far –, you grabbed his face and pulled him closer to you to press your lips against his own. He melted into the gesture, arms wrapping around you tighter as if to will the moment to last forever. 

When you pulled back, just enough so that your noses touched, he laughed in disbelief. “I thought we were supposed to take it slow?”

“Screw taking it slow,” you whispered and kissed him again. “Might as well make it a triple celebration.”

“I like the sound of that.”

BONUS !

While practically leaning out of their open window to watch you and Seokmin kiss under the streetlights on your way home, Jeonghan and Sunny argued.

“I told you they would get together,” Sunny declared, her eyebrows raised as if to dare her boyfriend to prove her wrong. 

Jeonghan scoffed. “Please. They’re just kissing. It could be casual.”

“Just say you don’t want to owe me 20 bucks.”

“I don’t owe you 20 bucks! We have no confirmation!”

“Jeonghan, listen here–”

“No, no, you listen–”

“Both of you listen here!” Chan bellowed from the window above them. “If you don’t stop arguing right now, I will report you both to Jihoon’s parents! Some of us are trying to sleep!” Silence followed. “And pay her the 20 bucks, Jeonghan. They’re clearly together.”

Jeonghan grumbled and glared upwards before fishing a 20 out of his pocket and handing it to his smiling girlfriend.

[yoditopascal]

one of the girls- suguru geto

❝ We don't gotta be in love, no. I don't gotta be the one, no. I just wanna be one of your girls tonight ❞

contents: college! au, black fem! reader, minors do not interact, slight gojo x reader, slightly mean satoru, unprotected sex, creampie, Geto is so in love with you, not proofread i could not be bothered sorry not sorry

a/n:  inspired by the Geto edit going around in tiktok with the sped up song by the weeknd and this one Geto fic I can’t remember the name of 😭

thinking about…

Jealous Geto

Who gets all wound up when Gojo tells him he started stalking your insta cuz you went out and “got hot” after Jujutsu Tech

Jealous Geto who gets all pissy whenever he hears about one of yours and Gojo’s dates afterwards

Jealous Geto who’s ready to beat Gojo’s ass when he tells him you guys haven’t slept together yet but he’s getting close to “cracking you”

Jealous Geto who can’t stand that you would even give Gojo the time of day after how much he teased you when you all went to school together

In all honesty he feels like he’s got better things to do then worry about what you and Gojo are doing but he can’t help but find it all… wrong. It’s dehumanizing how Satoru was never interested in you like Suguru was, back when you had nothing but the smile on your face to offer him. Now you’ve grown up, he thinks you're worthy of his attention, he’s showering you with fake affection. It was like some sorta of sick game for Satoru like everything else in life was for him.

That’s how Suguru found himself outside your apartment.

It was during the darkest hours of the night that he found himself knocking on your door.

He wasn’t sure what possessed him to raise his hand to knock at your door but he did and when you answered in a thin bathroom that barely covered everything, hair still went from the shower you just took, he felt himself swallow thickly as the scent of your soap wafted through his nose and he called your name as you invited him inside.

“He’s no good for you.” He said as he stood in front of you sat on the couch.

“Who Gojo? I know.” You wave him off as you continued to finger through your newly washed hair.

“He’s just gonna- w-wait what?” He stuttered as stopped pacing the floor, it had taken him a good 15 minutes to final say what he wanted to say and you came at him like you already knew?

“I knew by the second date, that’s why I dumped his ass.” You chuckled as you scooted over patting the seat next to you for Geto to sit and he did.

“He said you guys were still seeing each other through!”

“He messing with you Suguru!”

“That fucking bastard.” He chuckled darkly as he placed a hand to his face. He felt you rub a hand along his back to try and smooth him as you laughed which was music to his ears.

“I’m sorry he’s such an ass.”

“Yeah me too.”

“Is that all you came over for?” You smiled sweetly as you scooted closer to him. “To defend my honor?”

“Well-“

The next thing Geto knew you were underneath him kissing and biting leaving marks in your wake along the flesh of his neck as he pulled open your robe. Your hands continued to roam until they got to the edge of his joggers, playfully pulling them down as his hard dick sprang up out of them.

“Please Suguru”

His chest vibrates with a chuckle against your own as you beg. He sits up and slots himself between your thighs. Littering your face with kisses as he goes. As he continues to assault you with his kisses against your skin, he presses his cock against your clit, rubbing himself up and down your pussy, coating himself with your arousal before finally slipping in.

“S-suguru! That feels so—!” you gasp, cutting yourself off when he finally bottoms out, Your gummy walls hugging him to your warmth.

You barely had time to tell him to move before he started to thrust into you. The louder you got the harder he went as he gripped the pillow behind your head so hard his knuckles turned white. He was finally getting the chance to do everything he wanted to do for years, not exactly everything he wanted to do with you, but it was a start, and god damn was it start.

“Mhm,” he moans into your mouth, grabbing your hand with his as his uses his other to grip the globe of your ass cheek, forcing you to meet his thrusts

Suguru loved you like this, when you were so needy that there were no thoughts in your pretty little head and all you could do was nod and babble out ‘yes’s and ’please’

The next thing you know Suguru groans above you, his body going limp as he cums forcefully, his hot cum painting your walls leaving a translucent ring as he continues to thrust into your clenching hole. You whimper as you come too, spasming around him.

He pulls out, dragging his tip slowly against your wet folds, before littering kisses against your face again as you run your hand through his loose soft locks. He pulls the throw blanket from the back of the couch covering you both with it as he pulls you to his chest for the night.

The next day, Suguru made no attempt to hide the hickies and red marks that littered the skin of his neck as he tiredly walked up to Gojo after class in the same clothes he wore the day before.

“Two days in a row huh? You must really like that sweater” Satoru teased as he pulled at a loose thread.

“Shut-up” Suguru shrugged as he swatted his hand away.

“What’s that on your neck man?” Satoru squinted over his glasses as he leaned in to examine the dark red blotches.

“Nothing” Suguru leaned away as he tried to cover them with his large hand but failed.

“Is-Is THAT A HICKEY?”

“…”

Satoru pats him on the back excitedly “You went to see her last night huh?” A huge shit eating grin spreads across his face “Finally man, it’s about time!”

“You gonna tell me how it was?”

“Never.”

[winchesterwild78]

First Aid pt 5

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader, Nurse, mention of other SPN characters.

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, violence, fluff

A/N: This is a request: I’ve always wondered what a Dean x nurse series would look like in SPN if you ever felt inclined to write one! This will be a short series for my dear sweet friend. 

*One more Chapter to go.*

This will use some characters from Supernatural, but it will not follow the timeline or story. I wrote it fast and edited it fast, please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

*Time Jump 1 year*

You’d been hunting with Sam and Dean for a little over a year. You resigned from your job at the hospital after your leave of absence was over, and you haven’t looked back. You’d become a better hunter, Dean was trusting your instincts more, and you were still able to use your nursing skills, especially since Sam and Dean were prone to injury during a hunt. 

The three of you had been through so much the past year. After finding out Sam and Dean were legacies, the three of you found a home in a Men of Letters bunker. It had everything you needed, a full kitchen, showers, bedrooms, tons of lore and books, cars, and above all, a safe place to live. It quickly became a home.

Dean loved showing off his cooking skills, Sam was in heaven in the library, and you finally felt like you and Dean could focus on your relationship a little more. Recently you and Dean were drifting apart and it scared you. 

You love Dean and you see a future with him. You were starting to wonder if he saw one with you anymore. It broke your heart how he was pushing you away.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Sam asked as he looked up from the latest book he was reading. You sighed, “Yeah, just thinking is all.” Sam looked at you with a puzzled look on his face. “Well, you know I’m here if you want to talk. You’re like a sister to me and I care about you.” You reached out and touched his arm, “Thank you Sammy, I really appreciate that.” He placed his hand on yours and smiled, “Of course, I love you, Y/N.” 

Dean rounded the corner as Sam said he loved you, and he saw the two of you touching and he got pissed. “What the hell is going on here? Sam, why are you telling my girlfriend you love her, and why are you two touching each other?!” Your head spun and you looked at Dean, “Dean, it’s not what you think. He offered to help me and I told him I appreciated it. He said he loves me like a sister.” 

“Yeah, right. You don’t think I see what this is? You haven’t slept with me for a month and now you’re trying to warm my brother’s bed.” Your jaw dropped and tears pricked your eyes. Sam stood up, “Dean, what the hell?! She loves you! You’re the one that’s been pushing her away. I’ve seen it since we found this place.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about Sam! Stay out of it! Unless you want her in your bed.” By this time your tears were falling and your heart was broken. You spoke softly, “Dean I love you, I only want you. I love Sam like a brother, that’s it. I think this was a mistake.” “Yeah, sweetheart it definitely was.”

You softly gasped, tears kept falling. “Dean, you don’t mean that. You and Y/N are great together, she loves you, she gave up her life for you, for us.” Dean didn’t say a word, his jaw just clenched and he stormed off. 

You turned and headed toward your shared room with Dean. Sam came up behind you, “Y/N, please don’t go. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, but I know he loves you.” “Thank you, Sam, for everything. I need to go. He thinks I want to sleep with you. I don’t know what happened, but since we moved in here, he’s pushed me away. I can’t stay here any longer.” 

You grabbed your duffle bag and packed your stuff. Sam sighed and hugged you, “Please answer my calls when I call you, and let me know where you end up.” “I will Sammy, please tell Dean I love him and goodbye.” Sam nodded and you turned to walk away. 

With tears falling down your face you climbed the metal stairs of the bunker. As you got to the top you turned around one last time. You saw Dean standing in the war room, his face full of anger but regret too. Your breath hitched as you turned and opened the door and walked out. 

You climbed in your car and headed towards your house. Maybe you could get your job back. How could you let yourself get involved with a patient in the first place, you knew it was going to end badly. 

About 6 hours later you pulled into your driveway. Your home welcomed you like an old friend with open arms. While you were gone, you had paid someone to take care of the house for you. It looked just as good as you left it. When you walked in you dropped your bag and went straight to your bedroom. You collapsed on the bed and fell asleep.

*Time Jump 3 weeks* 

You’d been home and back to work for a few weeks. You couldn’t get back at the hospital, but you were able to take a job as a travel nurse. Which worked out for you, since you had been on the road for so long you needed to keep moving. 

Sam had texted and called a few times to check on you. Your most recent phone call you finally asked about Dean. Sam sighed, “He’s thrown himself into hunting. He’s dragging us everywhere on any hunt he can find. I know he misses you. Maybe you could call him.” You sighed, “Sam, he made it clear he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. I still love him, but if he misses me or wants me then he can reach out.”

Sam sighed, “Yeah I get it, he’s a stubborn jackass. Maybe we will run into you, we are headed your way.” “Well, I’d love to see you Sammy, Dean not so much.” Sam chuckled, “I’ll let you know when we pull in town and I’ll meet you for coffee or something.” “Okay, Sam. I can’t wait to see you.”

You put the rest of your groceries away and sat on the couch. You scrolled through the pictures on your phone, ones of Dean and you. Your finger hovered over the delete button, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. 

Throwing your phone to the side you laid back on the couch and sighed. You heard a ding from your phone so you leaned over and grabbed it. It was a text.

Dean: Hey sweetheart

You stared at your phone and the message from Dean. After all this time, he sends that?!? What the hell does he want? He let you walk away, hell he pushed you away.

You: Please don’t call me that. What do you want, Dean?

Dean: I want to see you. We are coming into town and I just want to talk.

You: Why? You made it clear how you felt the day I left. You didn’t stop me, come after me, or text me this whole time. I could’ve been dead for all you knew.

Dean: Sweetheart, please meet me. I knew you were okay, I made Sammy tell me.

You smiled slightly when you found out he had been asking about you, but he could have reached out to you.

You: Why didn’t you reach out to me? Why go through Sam? You know, the brother you accused of wanting to sleep with me!

Dean: Baby, please just meet me. I’m sorry.

You: Fine, come by the house. I’ll give you an hour.

Dean: Thank you! I’ll be there in 5 minutes. 

You took a deep breath. Could you really handle seeing him again? You knew you were still in love with him. A few minutes later there was a knock on your door. You knew it was Dean.

You steadied your breath and opened the door. Dean was standing there looking handsome as ever. His jeans hugging his body, a t-shirt that fit perfectly across his chest, and his button up shirt hanging loosely on his body. His green eyes sparkled and his lips perfectly plump and soft. You bit your lip when you saw him.

“Hello sweetheart, you look beautiful.” You smiled and stepped to the side. “Thank you, Dean. Would you like a drink? I have water, beer and whiskey.” “Sure, I’ll have a beer.” You walked to the kitchen, feeling his eyes on you as you grabbed the beer. You handed it to him and your fingers brushed against his. You felt a spark shoot through you. 

“So, Dean, what did you want to talk to me about?” “Sweetheart, I screwed up. I shouldn’t have said what I did, and I damn sure shouldn’t have let you walk out.” You sat on the couch watching him. You could see the regret in his eyes. “Dean, I don’t understand. You pushed me away once we found the bunker. Why? You fucking broke me Dean. You accused me of wanting to sleep with your brother. I just don’t think I can forgive you. You stood there and let me walk out. You looked right at me, tears in my eyes as I walked towards the door and you let me leave. You’re a fucking coward, Dean Winchester.” Tears filled your eyes. Your chest heaving and your heart pounding. You still loved him so much, but you were so hurt. The hurt and anger from the past few months just boiled over. 

Dean clenched his jaw. He was hurt by your words, but he knew it was the truth. “You know what, I came here to talk to you not be called a fucking coward! I thought you were going to at least listen to me. Damnit!” “What’s there to talk about, Dean?! You couldn’t reach out to me for months and now all of a sudden you’re sorry!? Why!? Your latest conquest doesn’t want you anymore?” 

You started to stand and walk away from him. He stood and grabbed your arm, “Stop! Please don’t walk away again.” Dean pulled you closer to him, “Honestly I was scared. It’s not an excuse, but I was. I’m in love with you and I felt safe with you. For the first time in a long time we found a home, I felt safe and I wanted to start a family with you. Start our lives together. I was scared it was all going to be taken away from me, from us. So I tried to distance myself. I couldn’t stand to lose you to a monster, so I thought if I pushed you away, you’d leave and be safe.”

“Dean, you should have talked to me. You could have at least let me decide if I wanted to even try to start a life with you, start a family. Dean I loved you, hell I still do. I haven’t been able to move on, because I want to be with you. I don’t care what monsters throw at us, I want to fight side by side.” 

Dean pulled you flush to him and captured your lips in a fervent kiss. You moaned into his mouth. “I love you, Y/N, so much. Please come back home. I’m sorry.” The last few tears left your eyes and Dean wiped them away. “Dean, I don’t know.” Dean looked at you, “What can I do to prove to you I’m sorry and won’t ever do that again?” 

“I don’t know Dean, it’s gonna take some time.” “I understand, just please consider coming home and let’s work on us, please.” You took a deep breath, “Okay, I’ll come back home, but you have to prove to me you mean what you say. I can’t go through this again.” 

Dean grabbed you, pulled you closer and kissed you deeply. “I swear to you, Y/N. I’ll spend the rest of my days proving to you that I’m sorry and I love you.” Dean’s phone rang, breaking the kiss you two were sharing. He saw it was Sam so you told him to answer it.

“Okay, Sammy, I’ll meet you there. Yes, she’s coming home. I know, I’m not going to screw it up again. Okay, yep, bye.” “Sweetheart, I have to go. Sammy got a lead on the case we’re on so I need to go help him.” “I understand, Dean. What’s the case? Maybe I can help.” “It’s a wraith, at the hospital you worked at. We’ve tracked them to the psychiatric floor.” 

“Well, then we need to go. I can help you get in, I still have friends that work there and they owe me. Come on, Dean, let’s go.” Dean smiled and grabbed your hand. He pulled you into another kiss before the two of you headed towards the hospital. On the way, Dean explained that to see a wraith’s true form, you can use a mirror, and silver or decapitation is the only thing that can kill it. Once at the hospital, Dean grabbed two silver knives from the trunk and a machete.

You called your friend Ana to get you access to the psych unit. You told her Dean and Sam were FBI and were undercover. She gave you a badge and Dean pretended to be a patient. You “admitted him” to the unit and would oversee his care. 

Sam was a custodian on the unit so he had access too. You walked Dean to his room and got him settled. “I’ll be back, Dean. It’s best if I don’t linger in your room for too long. Please be careful.” You kissed him quickly and left the room. 

Once in the common room you kept a watchful eye out. You saw a nurse you didn’t recognize so you kept an eye on her. Dean walked out soon after and sat down at a table near the window. Overlooking the table was a round mirror. You walked closer and looked in it at the people around him, but you didn’t see the wraith. 

The nurse you were watching disappeared and you panicked a little. You walked through the hallway looking into rooms as you passed but you didn’t see her. You approached a closet where you heard a noise. You took a deep breath and swung open the door. You found the nurse in the closet with a doctor and they were having sex. 

“Oh my god, I am so sorry.” You said as you closed the door. Okay, probably not the wraith. You saw Sam and told him what happened, he couldn’t stop laughing. “Shut up, Sam, it’s not funny.” 

Dean was watching the nurses and doctors, he’d dealt with a wraith before and it was a nurse. It made sense to keep an eye on them. You walked over to Dean to check on him and tell him about the nurse you thought was the wraith. He laughed just as hard as Sam did. “It’s not funny, Dean.” You said laughing.

The nursing staff called for all patients to return to their rooms for medication. You thought it was odd, because usually they distribute the medication right there. Dean went back to his room and met his roommate. It was a younger man who according to his chart had multiple personalities. You stayed close to Dean’s room and offered to give the medication to the two patients in the room. 

You went in to give Dean his medication and his roommate. Dean of course didn’t take the medication. When you went over to the roommate, something seemed off. You weren’t sure if it was the man himself or if it was something more. 

You left the room and helped distribute medication, keeping an eye out on reflective surfaces for the wraith’s true form. Sam was turning up nothing too. It was starting to frustrate you and Sam. 

You noticed Dean’s roommate leaving the room and slipping into another patient’s room. You know sometimes patients hook up, so at first you didn’t think anything. Hearing a strange noise coming from the room you walked over and looked inside. You saw Dean’s roommate on the bed of the other patient and hovering over them. 

You looked in the mirror and saw the wraith. It was Dean’s roommate. You ran and got Dean and then Sam. Sam grabbed the silver knives and machete from his cart he had hidden inside. He tossed Dean the machete and you a knife. 

The three of you burst into the room and the wraith attacked. Throwing Dean and Sam against the wall. The wraith lunged at you and you were fighting him. His spike poked out and he was inches away from sticking into your temple. You moved quickly, turned and got him on his back. You broke the spike and he screamed in pain. 

This was the opening you needed. You used the silver knife and stabbed him right in his chest. Killing it and saving yourself and the boys. 

“Damn girl, welcome back.” Sam chuckled. Dean walked over, threw his arms around you and kissed you, “Damn you’re good at this.” You noticed Dean was bleeding, he had a deep gash on his arm, so you grabbed some supplies to stitch him up. 

You walked him out to a chair, Sam took care of the wraith. 

As your hands brushed against Dean’s skin, cleaning and prepping the area, you noticed goosebumps on his skin. You looked up and smiled at him. Once he was patched up you placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Come on Dean, let’s go home.”

The three of you went back to your house for the night. Tomorrow morning you will head back to the bunker with Dean and Sam. Once back at the house, the three of you took showers, ate, and got ready for bed. Sam was taking the guest room, Dean insisted, and Dean was going to take the couch.

Sam went to bed, and you were heading to your room. You stopped, walked back into the living room and looked at Dean. He was lying on the couch, legs crossed at the ankles, arms behind his head, no shirt and his gray sweatpants hugging his body. 

You bit your lip looking at him. You’d missed him and his touch. 

“Dean?” “Yes, sweetheart?” “Um, are you coming to bed?” Dean’s eyes opened and he looked at you, “Are you sure?” “Yes, Dean, come to bed. It’s been too long.” Dean stood, scooped you up in his arms and carried you to bed. The rest of the night was spent exploring each other’s bodies, and finally drifting off to sleep, bodies wrapped together. 

Part 6…coming soon.

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[blakelysco-pilot]

These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You)

From the Love Letter Series Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal x Josephine Harris (OFC)

The realities of Rosie's choice to reup for a second tour hit hard for Jo when Harry Crosby is granted furlough. She must learn to navigate the ugly emotions that come with the situation while simultaneously being there for Jean who is going through her own set of emotions at her husbands temporary return. With the help of friends, Jo is able to find the brighter side of it all, with a renewed hope for her future. Meanwhile, Rosie must deal with the guilt of his decision.

Read part 7 Here Follow along with the Love Letters Playlist

It comes in many forms; jealousy isn’t always the green eyed demon that’s depicted in books and movies. Sometimes, it comes as pain. As sadness. Desire, strangely enough. Jo could feel the emotions taking turns, and after they had all run their course, guilt would take over.  

The guilt that she was a terrible friend to Jean, who was over the moon with the news of Harry’s impending furlough. Her best friend who had desired no more than to be in the arms of her husband for the duration of his time away at war, was getting her wish. So then why was she having to remind herself every day to be happy for her? Because it was Harry on his way to New York, and not Rosie? Because she couldn’t understand how after devoting himself to the cause, to signing up for a second tour of duty, didn’t he also deserve a moment of reprieve in the safety of his own home. 

The last letter she had received from him had come shortly after the mail that had included news of Harry’s temporary return. It was clouded in sadness, despite his happiness for his friend. She could feel his desire to be home, the emotions palpable on the page. So much that she hadn’t told Jean of the letter. She had simply read it in the quiet of her room at night, hoping to keep her tears from falling too loudly. 

Could she stand to be here while Harry was home? To see them reuniting, softly, sweet nothings whispered to Jean in passing, her gentle laughter as Harry pulled her into a hug just because he was close. Because he could. She had decided she would leave for the duration of Harry’s furlough. She could return to her parents for the four weeks, but something in her kept saying that four weeks would crawl if she were to go home. So, she had resolved to call Juliet Thompson in the morning. Her friend upstate was still on summer holiday, and she had a feeling she could use the company as much as she could- John Brady was still being held POW, and whenever the thought crossed her mind, Jo couldn’t help but feel guilt all over again. Rosie was safe in England, and she was beyond grateful for it. 

The next morning felt like you could cut the tension with a knife. The days to Harry’s return were drawing near, and while Jo tried her best, she could feel the inevitable dark cloud looming overhead; she had begged for it to not creep in onJean’s good mood, but when she joined her friend for coffee, it seemed it was looming over both of them. 

“Sleep well?” Jean looked over from the stove where the coffee was perking, a half smile on her face. 

“Alright, all things considered.”

“Humid last night…” Jean mused. 

“Slept on top of the duvet again.” Jo half laughed, knowing even if they weren’t tiptoeing around the inevitable, she’d have been a tad grumpy over the heat. 

“Me too…” Jean turned, bringing the now finished pot to the table, placing it on the trivet. “Not even a breeze.”

“We want a breeze, we need to go back to Brooklyn, Jean.”

“That’s a hike,” she had set about pouring their coffee, hands staying busy. “Don’t know how you did it for so long before moving in here.”

Jo blanches at the mention of her living there, still not quite sure how to tell Jean that she’s going to be leaving while her husband is home. Guilt, again. 

“Jo?”

“Hmm?”

“You haven’t touched your coffee, are you okay?”

“Oh, yes…no… I’m fine.”

“Yes no?”

“Jean… I think it's best that while Harry is home, I’m not here.”

“What! Josephine, this is your home!”

“When Harry is away, yes, but your husband is coming home, Jean, and that does not require a third party awkwardly bumbling around.”

“You could never,” Jean practically cried from her seat across from Jo. “You would never be an awkward third party to me, or Bing! We both love you Jo.”

“I love you both terribly,” Jo was trying so hard to keep the tears at bay. “But he’s your husband. You both have been apart for so long, Jean. You deserve privacy.”

“But…what if he doesn’t…” Jean burst into tears, the Harry that had left for the war was someone Jean Crosby wasn’t sure she knew anymore, and it scared her. 

“Oh honey, no, don’t think that! You know Harry is so thrilled to be coming back to you, even if it is only temporary.”

“I’m not sure what to do anymore… I’m a wife but; I haven’t felt like one in so long.”

“You will both just have to take some time to get reacquainted.”

“And you? Will you go back to your parents?”

“I think I’ll call Jules first, and pay her a visit if she’s up to it.”

“Oh she’d love that!”

“Besides, the idea of four weeks at home with my parents after being here seems dreadfully boring.”

“Your mother would dote on you being home, you know that.”

“Dote or smother?” Jo raised a challenging eyebrow at her friend, their laughter somehow finding a place amongst their tears. 

“Maybe a little bit of both.” Jean agreed, knowing that Jo’s mother would undoubtedly be worried from the moment she left the house each day to the moment she came home from work. 

“We still have some time before Harry gets here,” Jo gave Jean’s hands a squeeze. “Why don’t you come with me to see Jules, and we can sneak Vika away from the hotel for a day and go shopping.”

“Wonderful!”

“We can get you all sorted out for your husband, Mrs. Crosby.” 

The phone call to Jules had been easier than Jo initially thought; already missing John Brady terribly, she understood Jo’s feelings on not wanting to encroach on Jean once Harry arrived, and was happy to have the company of a friend nearby. She was thrilled to know Jean would be accompanying Jo on the journey up, and to make the two days with Jean enjoyable for all, she had called Ruthvika and asked if the three girls could stay at the hotel, promising Vika a weekend of fun and martinis. Jules’ childhood friend had been more than happy to set up a room for the girls, and even happier to know she was included in the slumber party. This would be good; it would be a bit of sunshine after a dark cloud, laughter and friendship, and just what Jo knew she needed. 

My dearest Robbie,

My sweetheart, I miss you, and I hope you’re taking care of yourself over there. We’re in quite the heatwave here in the city, and from what you’ve told me, English summers are cooler than here at home, so with that, my love I envy you. It's not all bad, though. Jean and I have taken many trips to Coney Island on the weekends, and we brought your sister with us this last time. The fourth of July fireworks were spectacular as always, and I was so glad Jeannie was able to come with us for that. 

I’m sorry to say I haven’t seen much of her since you’ve left, and even less so after I moved in with Jean. She calls on occasion, and I know she’s keeping busy with school. Your mother says she’s trying to distract herself with you being away and so, she buries herself in her coursework. I do know how that feels. Work helps to serve as a distraction during the day, but when the day is done, and Jean and I have both gone to bed, I feel that is when I miss you most. We all miss you something terrible, and in our own different ways. 

I wanted to let you know that I’ll be heading upstate for a little while, to spend some time with Juliet and Vika. I must admit, I’m not very proud of myself, but it appears I have a bit of a jealous bug as of late, hearing that Harry is on his way home to Jean for a furlough. So, to make myself scarce and not be in their way, I’ve decided to pay a visit to Juliet for two weeks, before she has to return to her classroom to get ready for the school year ahead. I will go back to my parents for the second half of the time; I do miss them and I would love to see your mother as well. 

I think being away from Jean and Harry might be for the best. Please, don’t misunderstand, I cannot wait to meet him, he’s not only my best friend's husband but he's your best friend as well, (we won’t tell Pappy I said that) so that makes him special. But Robbie, what have we done so wrong to not be granted the same good fortune? Why is it not you coming home? You’ve sacrificed so much, giving more of yourself and your life to this damn war, and yet, they can’t let you go, can they? Haven’t you done enough? Haven’t I waited long enough? Your mother and sister, don’t they deserve to have you home too? 

I feel so guilty for feeling this way, but I can’t help but want the same happiness and excitement that Jean is feeling. I regret waiting so long to tell you I love you, Robbie. Why did we wait so long? We could have been spending time in each other's arms long before, and yet we were both too stubborn to admit how we felt. Do I sound silly? I’m sure I do, all of this griping and crying when you’re over there fighting and missing home. I should be checking on you and asking how you are, and instead I’m staining this paper with tears and going on about how envious and sad I am. 

Please, love, tell me how you really are over there, or I will have to seek out Val for the truth. Has it been terribly difficult now that the invasion has passed and the fighting is well underway? I know you’re working and fighting hard, as are the rest of our friends that are with you over there. 

Love, have you written to your mother lately? I know she’s missing you as much as I am, if not more, and would do with knowing that you’re alright. Last week she was worried they weren’t feeding you enough, and had it been anyone else who said that, I may have rolled my eyes, but the way she said it had left me in stitches, Robbie. You know how your mother can be. She comes by at least once a week with my mother to check in on me and Jean, and they bring covered dishes and baked goods that they’ve managed with the rations. I think they’re afraid Jean and I are only consuming martinis. They’re half right, and I will only admit this to you, a chocolate chip cookie does pair best with the infamous Jean Crosby martini. 

We are leaving for upstate tomorrow, so I will post this first thing on my way out the door and hope it finds you soon. I’m counting down the days until this war is behind us. Until we can begin our days next to each other, and end them the same way. There is a future waiting for us, I just wish I knew when we could begin living it. Come home to me soon. 

My heart is yours forever, with all of my love always 

Jo

They packed light; still summertime and incredibly warm, they were able to get away with comfortable sundresses, and some swimsuits. They didn’t need much when they were together- Jules had said it’s the company that counts most. Vika had been a lifesaver and secured a room at her family’s hotel for Jo and Jean for the two nights that Jean would be with them before returning home. Not one to miss out, Jules had stayed as well. Squeezing into one of the beds with Vika while Jo and Jean occupied the other, it had been a slumber party just like the night at Jean and Jo’s home. Four friends laughing until their stomachs hurt, it had taken a visit from Vika’s mother to quiet them down, Jean rushing to hide the evidence of martinis that were scattered around the room. 

It had been so much fun, that Jo had begun to forget why she had made the journey in the first place; until there were three, and they were waving Jean off from the train platform, two with tears in their eyes. The realization of not knowing when their boys would be home striking hard and fast. 

“Two weeks and you’ll be back in the city, right?” Jean looked absolutely riddled with fear as she stood with her bag on the platform, Jo doing all she could to reassure her. 

“Yes,” Jo sniffled, wiping at her eyes and trying in vain not to smudge her makeup. “I promise.”

“Please, Jo. Promise you’ll be there to meet Binger.” Jean gripped her hands so tightly, her eyes wild and nervous. The last time she had seen her so scared was when news of Bubbles’ death reached home, and worry for Harry had begun seeping in like a crack in the roof. 

“I’ll be there,” she winked. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good. I’ll ring Jules once I’m back home. Bing doesn’t get in until tonight… gosh I’m so nervous!”

“You’re going to see that man and forget all about how nervous you were. Now go, before you miss your train.” 

“Jo…”

She pulled her into a hug so fast, and so fiercely, that Jo barely had a moment to catch her footing before hugging Jean back. This friendship, forged in a dark time, was more than two women finding companionship while their men were away fighting. This was sisterhood, and as an only child, Jo had never known it before. The closest person in her life had always been Rosie, and now that his role in her life had shifted, Jean had seamlessly filled in that space. 

“I will see you soon, yea?”

“Yea… yes, yes you will. I’ll have a martini waiting for you.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” Jo grinned, pulling back to give her friend a smile. “Now go on, otherwise Harry will have my head for making you late.”

“Your Robbie would never forgive him.” Jean laughed, wiping at her eyes just as the conductor hollered for All Aboard! 

As the train pulled away, Jean Crosby waving from the window of the car, Jo felt herself become utterly depleted. The sadness that she had tried to ebb away at home, not divulging all of it for fear of guilt, slammed into her full force, and had it not been for Jules and Vika wrapping her up in their arms, she’d have collapsed on the spot. 

“Come now, let’s get back to the hotel,” Vika urged her, gently steering her out of the train station and back towards the car. “Mammi can make us some chai, and we can have a rest.”

“I feel terrible…”

“Terrible, sick?”

“Terrible like I’m riddled with guilt and anger and sadness.”

She doesn’t catch Vika looking over at Jules, knowing that this is more than what Mrs. Patel’s chai can fix, because only Jules knows how she’s feeling, and only Jules can be the one to talk this through with her.  

The hotel is quiet when they arrive back, and Mrs. Patel is at the front desk, a smile on her face as she watches her daughter and friends walk in, but the smile soon fades as she sees the look on Vika’s face. 

“Did Jean get off alright?” She asks, nerves lacing her normally stoic and motherly disposition. 

“She did, Mammi,” Vika replies kindly, joining her mother at the desk while Jo and Jules take a seat on the sofa meant for guests. “Can Juliet and Josephine use the apartment for a little while? I think they…well, Jean’s husband coming home hasn’t been easy for them.”

“Of course, you take them up. I will be behind with some chai and bhel puri.”

“Thank you Mammi.”

The pair on the couch sit quietly as Vika approaches, her voice soft as she speaks to both of them, but her eyes trained on Juliet. 

“Jules, why don’t you two go up to the apartment?”

“Is that…okay with your mother?”

“It’s fine,” Vika’s eyes softened at Jules’ worry over possibly invading the Patel’s personal space, the phrase bundled in her simple question. “Mammi is going to bring up some chai and snacks.”

“Oh Vika, that’s not necessary!” Jo turned to her friend, knowing full well that the hotel needed their full attention. 

“You and Jules need a moment, and I can cover the desk while Mammi is gone.”

“Yes, now you two go right up, and I’ll follow in a moment.” Mrs. Patel is standing next to them, and suddenly it’s as if their own mothers are there, ordering them to eat. 

Nodding, Jo follows Jean upstairs to the apartment, and once inside, she takes in just what it is that makes her friend Vika who she is. The decor, the smells, the homey feel, and photos. It’s all very like Vika, and Jo somehow feels like she’s invading a space not meant for her at all, despite the protests of both Vika and her mother. 

“Jules…”

“It’s just us, Jo. You can say whatever you need to.”

“I just,” the words felt trapped, caught in her throat with no way out unless she forced them up and out into the space between them. “I’m so angry!”

“You’re angry at Rosie?”

“So angry! He should be home, he flew twenty five missions. He was safe, and The Brass pulled the rug out from under all of them!”

“So that’s what happened…”

“Everyone after him needed to fly thirty missions, but his crew was safe at twenty five. He could go home, and he didn’t… he stayed… he signed up for a second tour.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s too good, and doing the right thing is what Robert Rosenthal does, and he can’t help himself. People are dying and can’t fight for themselves, so he’s doing it for them.”

“Oh Jo…” Jules rushed towards her friend. Instantly, her arms are tight around her friend as Jo  finally allowed herself the chance to let go of everything that had been welling up. Things she knew she couldn’t say to Rosie’s mother, or her own mother. Things that somehow, right now, only Jules could understand. 

“Harry getting a furlough…” Jules started, the words dying halfway as she felt Jo shudder a deep breath. 

“When Harry got a furlough, I just… I wanted to be happy for Jean. I am happy for Jean! But I also wish it was Robbie coming home instead.”

“Honey, you’re allowed to feel angry about it,” Jules took a step back, taking Jo’s hands and giving them a gentle squeeze, leading her towards the sofa in the living room. “He’s been gone so long, and all you want to do is start a life that this war has put on hold for you, and you can’t.”

“Jean was so happy, and there I am playing pretend happy over coffee and then feeling guilty, while the poor thing, she’s so nervous that Harry won’t feel the same for her-”

“Oh I doubt that!”

“That’s what I told her,” Jo shook her head, the beginnings of a melancholy smile taking hold. “But since Bubbles’ death, Harry’s been…distant.”

“Oh you don’t think…”

“I don’t know. And if Robbie knows anything, he’s not saying.”

Jules was quiet for a moment, taking a seat on the sofa wordlessly. She seemed far off, her mind somewhere else entirely; if Jo had to wager a guess it was on a certain pilot serving the rest of his war as a prisoner in Germany. 

“I haven’t had a letter from Johnny in a few weeks…” the words are nothing more than a broken whisper. 

“Jules, honey…”

“I know that letters aren’t as frequent now that he’s,” she stopped herself from speaking the rest out loud, Jo not needing to hear it to know what she was thinking. “Olive writes, and promises updates, but I can’t help but be constantly worried.”

“When did you last hear from him?”

“The start of June, and now, August is on the horizon and I’m scared, Jo.”

She’s beside her in an instant, her arms mimicking Jules’ earlier movements, pulling her close and hugging her tight. Somehow, Jo thinks she can will all of their broken pieces back together just by being there for each other, in hopes that if they love their boys enough from a distance, it will help bring them home faster. 

“Oh Jules, I’m sure Olive would have written if anything happened.”

“I know,” she sniffled, swiping under her eyes quickly. “No news is good news and all that.”

“And bad news travels fast.” 

“Yes, you’re right,” she took a deep and shaky breath, exhaling forcefully to try and clear the fog that seemed to have settled around her. “I just… I miss him so much Jo. I don’t have to explain to you how that part of it feels.”

“We worry for different reasons but we worry just the same.” 

The door of the apartment opened then, and both girls looked up through bleary eyes as Mrs. Patel stepped into the living room. She was holding a tray from the hotel, complete with two steaming mugs of chai and a bowl filled with snacks for them. Her gaze, normally hard and all business, seemed to soften at the sight of them. Crossing the room quickly, she placed the tray down on the table beside the sofa before coming to stand in front of them. Wordlessly, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a simple white handkerchief, handing it to Jules. 

“Thank you Mrs. Patel,” Juliet accepts the handkerchief and gently dabs at her eyes, careful not to get too much of her makeup on the clean, white fabric. Afraid to leave a stain, a reminder of this moment. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to get this dirty.”

“That is what the washing is for, Juliet. Go on, both of you.”

Nodding, Jules continues to wipe her tears before passing it to Jo, who is in the same state as she is. Quietly letting the pain escape like rivers down her cheeks. 

“Thank you for being so good to Ruthvika, ” Mrs. Patel speaks quietly, unsure of what she should exactly be saying, but knowing that she must offer something to her daughter's oldest friend, and now, Josephine. “Remember, we must continue to fight here every day; our own wars, they are painful, but keep hope, both of you, that they will come home to you safe.”

They were words that only a mother could speak. And because only a mother could offer that comfort, when she leaned forward to pull both girls close to her for the briefest of moments, it was the gauze over a wound that had spread so deep, neither Jo nor Jules were sure it would ever heal. Hope, it seemed, would fill the deep, painful space over time, and it would close the gap until one day, hopefully, the wound did not exist at all. 

——————————————————————————————————

It felt longer coming home from upstate this time. Jo had attributed that to not having Jean for companionship. But she was in her home, now with Harry, who had arrived in New York safely, two weeks ago. The jealousy had seemed to fizzle and sit on the backburner of her heart now. Jean deserved every moment with Harry; but Jo couldn’t help the sadness that crept in when it was quiet, knowing that Rosie was still over there.

It had been a wonderful two week reprieve with Juliet, but now Jo was back home in Brooklyn. She had called Jean to let her know that she was coming back, and was promptly given a date and time to meet her and Harry for dinner and drinks. She was excited on one hand, to finally meet not just Jean’s husband but Rosie’s closet friend. 

When the taxi pulled up to her parents home in Flatbush, she quickly paid the driver after he had pulled her suitcase from the trunk. The gentleman tipped his hat and drove off quickly, leaving her standing on the sidewalk, gaze fixed on the house. With a deep sigh, she made her way up the steps to the porch and pushed the door open. Once in the foyer, she dropped her suitcase to the floor and swiftly removed her gloves and hat, depositing them on the credenza by the door. 

“I’m back!” She called, stepping further into the house. She could hear her mother rustling around, before she appeared in the foyer with an almost frantic look in her eye.

“Josephine!” Hugging her tightly, she stepped back, appraising her daughter and sensing the sadness immediately. “Sweetheart, welcome back!”

“Thanks,” she forced a grin, thankful her mother chose not to ask if she was okay. She knew there would be minimal gossip and cocktails that night, however. “Are you okay? Mom, you look worried.”

“You have a visitor. A gentleman is waiting in the living room for you.”

“Oh god, is he, is it… did something happen to Robbie?”

“He says his name is Mr. Lewis?”

“Lewis?” the name rolled over in her mind for a moment, before it dawned on her. “Pappy!”

Jo rushed from the foyer into the living room, any ladylike behavior thrown out the window as she came skidding to a stop in the doorway. There, on the sofa, sat a man who had been described to her in numerous letters from Rosie. The only person she had ever trusted sitting in the Co-Pilot’s seat of Rosie’s fort, and in his own words Rosie’s best friend. 

“Hiya Jo!” Pappy grinned, standing from the sofa as he saw her.

“Pappy! Oh my- what are you doing here!”

“Rosie sent me,” he grinned, coming to greet her properly, the pair finally able to put names to faces, more than just a picture on Rosie’s side table on base or a name in a letter. “He thought with Croz home, you might need some cheering up.”

“You came all the way here just to cheer me up?” that couldn’t possibly be right, could it? Had Rosie sent him all this way just to keep her company for the second half of Harry Crosby’s furlough? 

“Well, you’re Rosie’s sweetheart, plus Val would give me a wallop if she knew I didn’t come see you when you needed it. She sends her regards by the way, boy, wait till you meet her! Have you met Croz yet? I’m sure he’ll want to meet you too, you’re very popular amongst the Riveters crew you know? We all-”

“Pappy, slow down!” she laughed, and for the first time in weeks, she didn’t have to force the sound from her chest. 

“Right! Sorry, but I am really glad to finally meet ya!”

“I’m so glad to meet you too.” she grinned. 

Guiding him back down to the sofa so they could talk. She just caught her mother peeking around the doorframe, a smile giving way as she noticed Jo’s own. 

“How did he even get in touch with you so quickly, the mail takes ages these days!”

“He’s a big shot Major now,” Pappy chuckled. “You know him, he finds a way.”

“He does find a way, doesn’t he…” she mused. 

“How have you been doing? Your mother said you were upstate?”

“Oh! Yes, well with Harry home, I didn’t want to impose on them by staying with Jean-”

“Oh right, I forgot about that! Rosie did tell me you had moved in with Croz’s wife!”

“Yes, a few months ago, and we took jobs on the switchboard at the War Department.”

“Look at you! That’s great!”

“It’s been a lot of fun,” Jo nodded, and she realized she rather liked talking with Pappy. “So, when Harry sent the date of his arrival, I went upstate to visit with John Brady’s girlfriend, Juliet.”

“How’s she? Must be worried sick over Brady…”

“She’s handling it as well as can be expected, but she gets letters when the mail is cooperative, and Olive sends mail to her in the inbetween.”

“Cousin Olive,” he sounds almost wistful. “I miss her…”

“Wait, she’s your cousin? Robbie never mentioned that…”

“Well, we’re both Lewis’.”

“Does that automatically make you cousins, Pappy?”

“Sure it does! Make your own family, right? That’s what we’re all doing to get by.”

“You’re right about that. And how have you been doing since coming home?”

“Oh, my Ma is fussing over me one minute and the next she’s praying I meet someone and get married so I can be her problem.”

“Well, this is New York, you never know. Your mother might get her wish.”

“Rosie would love that wouldn’t he, hell, I’d love it if I were closer.”

Pappy stayed all afternoon, happy to chat with Jo and enjoy some lunch with her and her parents, before they moved outside to sit on the front steps. It was just bordering on early evening and the kids who lived on the block were still running through the streets, soaking up every second of the summer they could. The fire hydrant on the corner was spraying water, turning her little corner of Flatbush Brooklyn into a water park. 

They had skirted around talk of the war and Rosie in detail, but now the sun was setting and Pappy would have to leave, and Jo wasn’t sure she wanted him to before she was able to ask him what she needed to. 

“Pappy, where are you staying?”

“Oh! With Rosie’s Ma actually, yea, just down the block.”

“Of course you are,” she shook her head, a smile on her face at Robbie's generous heart. “You went there first, right? Before coming here I mean.”

“Oh sure, yea I didn’t want her getting worried. She’s sweet, I see where Rosie gets it from…”

“His father was kind. Robbie gets his determination from him; but his heart, his love of jazz, the kind look in his eyes, all that comes from Mrs. Rosenthal.”

“He’s alright, Jo, you know?”

“Are you saying that to placate me, or is he really alright?”

“I mean it, he’s really alright. And he’s not alone either…”

“I don’t like the idea of him flying without you, Pappy.”

“I considered it, ya know?”

“Staying?”

“He told me to go home, in the end when I couldn’t make up my mind, he did it for me.”

“And now?”

“Some days I wish I had stayed, finished what he and I started,” Pappy pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, offering one to Jo first, who politely declined. “And then I think of guys like Nash and Speas who didn’t get to come home, and I think I gotta grab it while it’s hot.”

“I don’t resent you for coming home, I hope you know that.”

“Oh, I know, I wouldn’t be here if I thought you did.”

“I just always felt like he was safer with you in that plane, and you with him,” she sighed, taking the cigarette from Pappy and taking a long pull. “This damn war.”

“He’d balk at you if he saw you do that.”

“Then it’ll be our secret.” Jo grinned, passing the cigarette back to Pappy. 

They sat quietly while Pappy continued to smoke. The playful shrieks of the kids playing filled the companionable silence. She thought of a day when Rosie would be next to her, pressed shoulder to shoulder and her hand in his, possibly watching their own children play in the street. 

They had done the same when they were young. Her father and Mr. Rosenthal would pop the fire hydrant open and they would run in the cool water while the August sun beat down on the street, Rosie’s curls plastered to his forehead, his blue eyes rivaling the clear skies they played under. As they got older, he had picked up a paper route for the summers and Jo would ride on the handlebars of his bicycle, much to her mothers dismay, and help him deliver papers to the neighbors before seeking shade on the front porch of her home. Now, she was on the same porch, and the person next to her was doing their best to fill the void of her usual companion. 

————————————————————

Pappy had proved to be excellent company, not just for Jo but Mrs. Rosenthal as well. It seemed Rosie’s mother perked up quite a bit at having a young man to dote on as she would with her son. Pappy brought a sense of humor back to their block, and had Mrs. Rosenthal cooking up a storm once again, the need to feed him until her heart's content much as it was before her son left for war. 

Jo had been at the house for dinner almost every night, after spending the days taking Pappy around New York City. 

The phone had rang in the middle of breakfast, Mr. Harris stood to pick it up, allowing his wife and daughter to continue their conversation. When he stepped into the room with a smile on his face, Jo knew it was for her. 

“Josephine, it’s Jean Crosby.”

“Oh! Wonderful, thank you!”

“Jean!”

“Jo! Oh how are you, I miss you!”

“I miss you too, dear, how’s Harry?”

“Oh he’s wonderful…actually that’s why I called.”

“Oh?”

“Is tonight good?”

“Oh, tonight is great actually!”

“Wonderful! Binger will call the Stork Club and reserve a table, is that okay? I know you don’t want to go to Minton’s without-”

“The Stork Club is perfect Jean, thank you. Tell Harry to make it for four.”

“Four?”

“Yes, Pappy’s here!”

“Pappy?!”

“Yes! Robbie sent him!”

“Oh what a sweet gesture! Well I can’t wait to meet him, and I know Bing will be happy to see him.”

Jo could hear Harry Crosby in the background of the call asking Jean who their fourth was for dinner, before she told him to hush while she was on the phone. 

“What time tonight, Jean?”

“Seven thirty, unless you want to make it eight?”

“Seven thirty is fine,” Jo agreed. “I’m taking Pappy to Coney Island, but we’ll be back in plenty of time.”

“Where’s he staying?” Jean suddenly asked. “Surely not with you!”

“Oh no, with Robbie’s mother. And boy is she loving it!”

“I bet!” Jean laughed. “Well listen, I’m going to run, because Harry is looking for breakfast and I’m afraid he might burn our kitchen down if I leave him a moment longer. I’ll see you tonight dear, and I can’t wait!”

“Oh me too, Jean! Now go feed your husband, and I’ll see you later.”

Hanging up the phone she went back to join her parents at the table, her toast now a bit cold, but she wasn’t bothered. Not when she had a full day ahead of her. 

“Going out tonight?” Her mother grinned. 

“Yes, Harry’s making a reservation at the Stork Club for all of us,” she spoke from behind her coffee cup. “I’m so looking forward to finally meeting him and seeing Jean.”

“You and Jean have missed each other,” her father nodded, inserting himself into the conversation. “I could hear it in her voice when I picked up the phone.”

“I have missed her. Please, don’t think I’m not happy to be home with you both, but it's been so lovely living with her.”

“I think it’s done you a world of good with Robert gone. Naturally when he comes home, so will you, but right now, this is what’s best for you Josephine.”

“Your father’s right,” her mother placed a hand over hers, giving a gentle squeeze. “Then again, once Robert comes home, hopefully it won’t be long until you two are starting your life together.”

She was halfway through formulating a response when there was a knock at the door; using it as her escape from any more talk of her and Rosie’s future, she quickly jumped up to answer it. Pulling back the door, she found Pappy on the front porch with Mrs. Rosenthal behind him. He was dressed in civilian clothes for the first time since he had arrived, and grinning cheekily at her. 

“Heya Jo!”

“Pappy,” chuckling, she couldn’t help but shake her head as he stepped inside the foyer. “Good morning.”

He gave her a gentle hug, before allowing Mrs. Rosenthal to greet her, the older woman scooping Jo up in her arms for a hug, the two of them saying so much without saying anything at all. 

“Hello dear,” she grinned, hands still holding Jo’s shoulders as she appraised her. “Did we interrupt breakfast?”

“No more than Jean Crosby did just a moment ago.” Jo laughed, closing the door and guiding them both inside. 

“Is she getting on well with her husband at home?”

“Oh yes, it seems that she’s doing just fine.”

“Wonderful,” Mrs. Rosenthal smiled. “I’ve had some mail from Robert…”

“Oh? Is everything-”

“He’s fine, dear. Missing you, but otherwise fine.”

“Well, I miss him too,” she pouted slightly. “There’s been no mail from him.”

“The letter I got was weeks past the date at the top, so just hold out hope, yours should be on its way.”

“Don’t worry, Jo,” Pappy chimed in. “He’d never forget about ya.”

“Thanks Pappy…” she gave his arm a gentle squeeze, righting her before turning towards the kitchen. “Coffee?”

The trio entered the kitchen to find Mrs. Harris already preparing a fresh pot of coffee, her father standing to greet Pappy with a handshake before gesturing for him to have a seat while Mrs. Rosenthal took up her regular spot at their table. It was all very domestic, and not lost on Jo how lucky she was to have the family she did; both blood and chosen. 

“Pappy, we have big plans today.” She grinned, sitting back at her place to resume picking at her toast. 

“We’ve had big plans all week!” He laughed. 

“I’m taking you to Coney Island! Because everyone should be forced to ride the Cyclone at least once in their life.”

“…Forced?!”

“Well, Robbie forces me on it every year, and secretly I love it, but don’t tell him that. So now, I get to do it for you.”

“I’ve heard horror stories about that thing from Val!”

“Oh don’t be a baby, it’ll be fun! Jean Crosby even rode it with me!”

“She did?”

“Yes, she did.”

“Fine… if Jean Crosby can do it.”

All three of the parents in the room laughed as Pappy’s face blanched, the airman taking a cautionary sip of his coffee to settle his nerves. Surely, if Jean Crosby could do it… and he’d hate to have to tell Rosie he chickened out on the Cyclone. 

_________________________________

The Stork Club was bustling as Jo and Pappy walked in. He had handled an afternoon on the boardwalk like a pro, and she’d be sure to tell Rosie all about it in her next letter, but now he was back in his uniform and she was dressed for a night out and he was guiding her inside and towards the bar so she could try and locate Jean. 

“Oh! I see Croz!” Pappy was waving his arm in the direction of Harry Crosby, and when Jo turned she spotted Jean, on the arm of a handsome man, dressed in the same uniform as Pappy. 

“Croz!” 

“Pappy! Jean didn’t tell me you were the fourth!”

“Surprise,” Jean grinned, arm still looped through her husbands. “When Jo told me this morning I decided to keep it a surprise.”

“Well, this is great,” Harry beamed, giving Pappy a firm handshake, happy to see a familiar face. “What are you doing in the city?”

“Rosie sent me. He thought Jo might need a friend.”

“And now I have three.” She smiled, Jean now standing with her, the two girls’ arms linked as they watched the boys catch up. 

“Josephine,” Harry turned to her, and she just felt Jean nudge her forward to say hello. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to finally meet you.”

His uniform looked almost identical to the one she had sent Rosie off in at Grand Central all those months ago. Olive green shirt and jacket, tie, khaki slacks, and crush cap. Harry was sporting oak leaf pins on his lapels, along with multiple other citations and pins that he had served long into this war. She imagined that Robbie's uniform looked much the same these days, save for his flight wings indicating him a pilot, while Harry’s was a globe for navigators. 

Harry Crosby had big, brown cow eyes, and a gentle smile about him. He was every bit of how both Jean and Rosie had described him; Jean going on about how handsome he was and Rosie describing him as terribly capable but riddled with nerves. He was fiddling with his fingers, his hat tucked under his arm as he watched her step forward. Harry quickly handed his hat to Pappy and pulled her close for a hug, shocking her only slightly before she felt a sense of familiarity and comfort fall over her. 

“Thank you, Jo, ” He whispered to her before stepping back. “I can’t say it enough.”

Before she could ask what he was thanking her for, he stepped back, taking her hands and continuing to talk to her. 

“You two really have looked after each other haven’t you.”

“That’s what friends do,” she smiled. “And I should be thanking you for doing the same, Harry.”

“Oh, it’s Rosie who looks after me, really.”

“Still, you two keep an eye on each other and it just makes me feel more at ease.”

“Well, the feeling is mutual,” he grinned, releasing her hands and moving to wrap an arm around Jean’s waist. “Now, let’s go sit and we can exchange stories. Somehow I have a feeling you two girls have gotten up to quite a lot.”

Dinner was delightful, and the conversation flowed effortlessly. Friends, the really good ones,  it seemed, were the key to getting through tough times, because they would laugh with you, and let you cry on their shoulder if you needed it. Jo had done just that with both Jo and Pappy, as well as Jules and Vika earlier on. They had let her get it all out, those bottled up feelings, and she felt grateful for it. Lighter and less tense, she was able to enjoy happy moments like this. 

She was sitting next to Jean, the pair quietly conversing while Pappy and Harry spent some time catching up on the goings on at Thorpe Abbotts; it was something that both girls knew was meant for their ears only, so they took the time to chat amongst themselves. 

“Has it been alright, now that he’s home?”

“We’ve had a lot of good, long talks.” Jean nodded, sipping her martini with a slight frown. 

“What? Something wrong?”

“Mine are better.” She rolled her eyes slightly, making Jo laugh. 

“Yours are dangerous,” she corrected her friend with a gentle slap to the wrist. “But they are the best I’ve ever had.”

“But yes, Bing and I have done a lot of talking.”

“Just talking?”

“Josephine!”

“Well, he is your husband, I would hope you’ve done more than talk.”

Jean fixes her with a stare, eyebrow raised and mock challenging as she sticks her tongue out in the most Jean Crosby way possible, causing Jo to fall into a fit of laughter so loud, that both men turn to look at the girls. Jean is quick to wave them back to their own conversation, while Jo composes herself. 

“Did you have to do that?”

“Yes,” Jean grins. “It’s entirely too fun to watch you fall into stitches like that.”

“Now, tell me,” Jo rights herself again, placing a hand over Jean’s on the table. “You and Harry, you had a good talk?”

“We did. He told me about… her.”

“Oh Jean!”

“There was an affair,” she nods. “A woman in London, and while I understand he was coping with Bubbles, and then all of his friends being captured, Jo, it hurts.”

“It’s allowed to be hurtful and understandable. So much of life is.”

“He said he’s ended it, now coming home if even for a short while, he doesn’t want to see her again.”

“Oh Jean, I don’t know what to say.”

“You’ve listened for months while I cried over his distance, and that’s all I could have ever asked of you.”

“Well, then I should be thanking you too, and apologizing for being such a grump the last few weeks.”

“You were not a grump!”

“I was an absolute grouch, and it was not like me. I misplaced my feelings over Robbie being gone on your happiness.”

“Josephine…”

“Speaking of your happiness,” she grinned. “Looks like he’s trying to catch your eye.”

“Oh, Binger can wait just a second.” she pulled Jo tightly to her, the two women sharing a hug that spoke volumes. 

There was no animosity, and no one upping the other. They were best friends, getting through the hardships of war together. Harry would be gone in another few days, and so would Pappy, and they’d both go on together again. There would be days at work and dinners from the automat, weekends with Juliet and Vika up in Victor, and nights spent in the quiet of their house with just the radio on while they sipped martinis. In between all of that, there should be two men to join in the simple moments of their lives, and one day they would be there, it was only a matter of time. 

She knew, deep down, Rosie being in England was where he was supposed to be right now. If he had come home, he’d have been restless and unsettled, and neither of them could start a life properly that way. She knew that. As Jean said, we understand but we hurt, and that’s what all of this had been. Hurtful, and confusing but understanding. A part of her life that she needed to go through in order to get to the next part with the man she loved. It was just another chapter, the ticking hand on a clock, a turn around the sun. 

Pappy’s laughter pulled the two girls apart, and they found him doubled over while Harry sat patiently waiting. 

“Are you finished now?” Harry glared at him. 

“No!” Pappy wheezed, reaching for his napkin to wipe at his eyes. “Tell me again how you face planted and Tattie had to put you to bed!”

“Pappy…”

“Oh come on! Croz, that’s funny!”

“Not for the fellas who had to haul me out of Operations.”

“Who did?” Jean posed the question to him casually, already knowing the answer from Val’s letter but wanting to hear her husband admit it. 

“Rosie and Dougie…”

“Oh Dougie must have loved that!” Pappy roared with laughter again. 

“He grumbled about me being heavier than I look for a few days after I woke up.”

“Slept three days straight through the landings. Only you Croz.”

“Yeah, yeah, only me.” He shook his head, letting Pappy get his licks in while he could before turning the conversation somewhere Jo would appreciate. 

“You tell Jo about how Rosie was up in the sky humming Artie Shaw over the radio?”

“He did what!” She crowed, eyes wide in amusement knowing just how much he loved his jazz. 

“I hadn’t… that one was rough.” 

“You don’t have to,” Jo replied, understanding. “He says a lot of those early flights were rough, so-”

“No, no, if you want me to tell you I will!”

“He conveniently left out how he hummed his way back home, so…”

“It was our third mission, ever. And I won’t go into too much detail but, we ended up alone in the sky, and I guess to distract himself or us, he starts humming.”

“Artie Shaw, you said?”

“Over the radio, all of us heard it!” Pappy chuckled. 

“The Chant, right?”

“How did you! Jo!”

“I’ve known him my whole life,” she laughed. “And I know what makes him tick.”

“Well, on that note, how about a dance ladies?” Harry posed the question to both of them, but he and Jean exchanged a quick glance that Jo didn’t miss. 

Harry was at her side just as she stood, extending his hand to her just as she caught Pappy leading Jean to the dance floor, the two chatting idly. 

“Harry? No, go with your wife, I know she’s missed you.” Jo tried to convince him, but he looped her arm in his and carried on walking. 

“Promised Rosie I’d give you a good spin on the dance floor, and while I may have two left feet, a promise is a promise.” 

“Oh goodness, Harry, you can tell him we danced, it’s really alright.” She laughed, letting him lead her regardless, Pappy and Jean fumbling along next to them in a fit of their own laughter. 

Harry spun her through the upbeat songs, and took Jean in his arms during all the slow ones. They had carried on this way for quite a while, before returning to their table for a drink, both Pappy and Harry having removed their Class A jackets. How they had lasted as long as they had, especially in July, was unbelievable. The Stork Club was beginning to empty out, and as Harry and Pappy flagged down their waiter to settle the bill, Jo and Jean excused themselves to the ladies room to freshen up. With a bustling restroom filled with women reapplying lipstick and powder to their noses, both Jo and Jean were back at their table in no time. Harry and Pappy were fussing over the bill, the two of them doing quick math before placing some bills on the table just as the girls sat back down. Jean gently nudged Harry, drawing his attention to her as she gestured to his jacket with a nod of her head and a gentle smile. His eyes lit up before he reached behind to the jacket draped over the back of his chair, digging into his inside breast pocket, pulling out an envelope that Jo had become very familiar with over the course of the months Rosie had been gone. 

“Before I forgot,” Harry handed the envelope to Jo, a smile on his face. “Special delivery.”

The front of the envelope didn’t have her address on it like all the others she had received before. No, this one had Rosie’s handwriting scrawled across the front and the words My Dearest Jo to indicate that it was for her. 

“Oh Harry, he sent this with you?”

“He wanted you to have one that didn’t go through the APO review before going into transit,” Harry explained. “You didn’t think Pappy was the only surprise, did you?”

“You’ve been holding on to this the entire time you’ve been home?”

“Well, I had assumed I’d meet you a bit sooner but when Jean told me you were upstate with Juliet…”

“Harry…”

“She explained it to me, and it’s alright. I understand.”

“I shouldn’t have-”

“No, don’t say that,” Harry frowned, placing a hand over hers as Jean and Pappy looked on. “I know that me coming home wasn’t easy for you, and I know that Rosie taking on a second tour has been even harder. I hope you know we all gave him an earful when he signed those papers…”

“I’ve got it on good authority, from multiple sources.” She chuckled, swiping at her eyes to stop the tears. 

“Val.” Harry and Pappy said at the same time, the woman’s name punctuated with a laugh. 

“She keeps me informed,” Jo grinned. “Thank you, Harry.”

“For the mail?”

“For everything.” 

_________________________________

Pappy had dropped her back off at her house after they had all left the Stork Club, before bidding her goodnight and turning to go back towards the Rosenthal home. Turning towards the living room, she expected to see her mother waiting up for her, but found that both of her parents had gone up to bed. With the living room vacant, she pulled Rosie’s letter from her purse before placing it on the table, and removed her shoes before curling up on the cushions. Carefully, she slid her thumb under the back of the envelope, and pulled the paper from inside. Unfolding it, she found Rosie’s handwriting scrawled across, his message to her waiting. 

My dearest Jo,

I know that by the time you get this, Croz will already be home, and I hope he’s gotten this to you in one piece, and himself to Jean. I also hope Pappy has gotten there safely and proven good at cheering you up. I thought he might be a nice change in pace for you right now. 

Honey Pie, I’m so sorry. I’ve hurt you without even realizing how badly at first, and I don’t know how I could ever ask you to forgive me. I’ve been selfish in staying to fight, when we could be together at home, starting our life. I thought that by fighting, staying here, I was doing the job I needed to keep you safe. It was also selfish, in part, because I thought if I left, I’d be restless. And you didn’t deserve me like that. You didn’t deserve to start a life with someone who felt like he should still be in the fight. As it turns out, I’m restless here most days, thinking of what we could be doing at home. 

I’ll admit, when Croz got furlough, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Of course I’m happy for my friend, our friends if you include Jean, but part of me wondered why it wasn’t me. I’ve served twice over now, and yet somehow they can’t see fit to let me go for a few weeks. It’s rough, knowing that he gets to return to his wife, my crew is all home, and the other fellas here have their sweethearts. Sometimes seeing Ev Blakely and Dougie with Val and Olive stings, no matter how good they are and how much they make space for me in their circle. There are others who’s special someone isn’t here, and we lament on occasion, but I'm not nearly close to anyone the way I am with the fellas in Ops, and the Red Cross girls. 

I wish you were here with me, in that navy blue jumpsuit slinging coffees with Val and Olive, yelling at us all for crowding the truck, helping to wrangle Meatball until Benny DeMarco comes back. But then, I know you’re safe at home, you and Jean looking after each other, your parents and my Ma all close by. I think that’s where I find I’m more grateful to have you, sweetheart. Safe. 

I suppose I should update you on the goings on here, so that you know how our friends are doing as well. Val and Olive are just fine, keeping every fella in line and then some. It’s enjoyable to share an office with Ev Blakely; he’s mostly quiet while we work, unless Val stops by with coffee and a bit to eat for the pair of us. She often joins us for a while before going back to the Clubmobile. The same for Olive and Doug. Those two girls are never far apart, if one’s visiting so is the other. Dougie shares an office with Croz; it stresses him out. Dougie is usually very relaxed, but being office mates with Croz tends to work him up. Helen, Nash’s old sweetheart, has started corresponding with one of the fellas in the Stalag- Charlie Cruikshank. Everyone calls him Crank, but she has a special nickname for him that no one will divulge to us fellas. All I know is, she seems happy, and that’s good, because losing Nash tore her up. Red Cross Tattie is seeing Air Exec Jack Kidd- but no one is supposed to know. Jack’s not that great at locking his door. Poor Doug got an eye- and an ear- full last week. See honey, you’re not the only one who can gossip. I do alright from over here. Oh! Can’t forget Meatball- husky fur everywhere but, when it’s cold out, he’s great for staying warm. We shuffle him back and forget between our racks and the girls so that everyone gets a turn. Turns out, the dog likes sleepovers with the girls best- Val paints his nails with her red varnish! Not sure how much DeMarco is going to like that when he’s back though.

Speaking of our friend Harry, I need to apologize twice, because though I’m sure you know by now, I’ve kept this from you. It was not the easiest of positions to be in, because he trusted me, then again you have stood by Jean this entire time. There was someone in London, and I hope he’s confessed to her by now. He confided in me on New Years, and then Doug and the others saw him with her in London while on a weekend pass. I assume that’s part of what had Doug so stressed out, Croz was using the phone to make calls to her and arrange meetings when days were particularly rough. I hope you know that I would never step out on you, you’re it for me my sweet girl, and you always will be. 

I’ve often pondered what our life might be like when this is all over, Jo. It’s a pretty picture that I like to conjure up when the days are particularly dreary. You and me, in a house all our own, with a front porch to sit on, just like we do now, watching the neighborhood kids. Maybe we’ll be watching our own kids play in the street, and I’ll be the dad who’s opening the fire hydrant for them to keep cool in the summer. We’d have our friends, and maybe spend summers at the Cape with them. Go dancing at Minton’s on Saturday’s, or have Jean and Croz over for dinner. Curl up on Sunday’s and drink coffee in bed, spend the day tangled together lazily. I can’t wait for all of those days, honey. I can’t wait. 

Promise me you’ll keep your chin up, and that smile on your face. I know it’s hard now, and hopefully, Pappy’s been good company. You’ll have to let me know what adventures you two get up to while he’s there. If you do anything, I’m begging you to take him on the Cyclone. It’s a right of passage after all, and somehow, I imagine it would be quite comical. He’s a good friend, Jo, and he cares about you as much as he does me. He’ll be there to listen when you need it. 

I love you honey pie, and I’ll be home soon. I promise. Sending millions of hugs and kisses and all of my love. 

Yours forever,

Robbie

His signature and declaration of love were blurred as tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over and onto the paper. Holding his letter close to her chest, where it was free from the salty reminders of his absence, only then did she allow the tears to fall. Quiet sobs in the empty living room, praying to whoever was listening, begging, for him to come back to her. 

_________________________________

“Mail call, fellas!” 

Rosie looked up to find Tattie Spaatz in the doorway of his and Ev Blakely’s shared office, a handful of envelopes in her hands as she leaned against the doorframe. Blakely looked up, pulling the cigarette from between his lips and resting it in the ashtray on his desk before taking the offered mail from her. 

“Thanks Tat,” he nodded, passing Rosie’s over to him. “Dougie’s off with Olive so, if he’s got anything you can drop it here, his office is locked.”

“Oh, even better, thanks Ev. See you later Rosie.”

“See ya Tattie…” Rosie half waved as she walked out the door, looking up from the papers on his desk just in time to see her casually stroll into Jack Kidd’s office. 

“They’re at it again…” he shook his head, Ev’s laughter filling the silence. 

“Yeah well, whatever she’s doing got the bug out of his ass.”

“You sound like Val.”

“Who do you think said it first?” Ev grinned, picking up his mail.

“Anything good?” Rosie nodded towards the envelope in his hands, his own mail resting next to him on his desk. 

“My mother, more than likely with a few sentences for me and three pages for her future daughter in-law.”

“Aren’t all our Ma’s like that…”

Blakely didn’t respond, instead leaving Rosie to open his mail while he set to reading from his mother back in Seattle. Slipping his thumb under the back of the envelope, he pulled out a letter written in Pappy’s messy scrawl, but legible at the very least. 

Hey pal! 

How’s it going over there in East Anglia? Have you single handedly won the war yet, or did Harding tell you to save some Krauts for the rest of the crews? I’m just kidding, I know you’re up in Operations with the other guys, so hopefully the paperwork isn’t putting you to sleep yet. 

I’m back at your Ma’s house. Croz and I took the girls to the Stork Club for dinner and some dancing, and before you ask yes, I warned your girlfriend that I have two left feet. She seemed happy to go out, and I think a little relieved to meet Croz. She’s trying really hard to be brave, but pal, she’s ready for you to come home. And don’t worry, Croz delivered your letter- I left her to read it after I dropped her back off at her folks house. You weren’t kidding when you said the same block! She’s practically across the street from your Ma’s house! Oh, and thanks again for letting me stay at your place while I’m here. Your bed is pretty comfy for a big shot Major. That’s payback for having to ride the Cyclone, by the way! She dragged me on that thing, and said that if Jean Crosby could do it I could too. Didn’t have it in me to tell her no, but dear god, how could you make that girl ride it year after year! 

I don’t think I need to tell you, but just to make sure we’re all on the same page I’m going to do it anyway. Jo is amazing, and she’s so much more than how you described her. And she loves ya. I mean, she really truly loves ya! That kind of thing isn’t easy to find, so, would ya finish this damn thing and come home to her? She deserves to have at least that much. So do you.  

Anyway, take care of yourself Rosie. Give my regards to everyone still over there with ya, especially Cousin Olive. 

Your friend and Co-Pilot

Pappy Lewis

The paper fell to the desk with a sigh, Rosie’s head falling into his hands almost as fast as the paper from his grip. How could he be so stupid? Sure, Pappy was a great friend and he trusted him to be the friend Jo needed during Croz’s furlough, but Jo had a friend. She had Jean, and she had the girls here who wrote to her, and Juliet upstate. What she needed was him, and he dropped the ball. 

“God damnit…”

“Rosie? You okay pal?”

Looking up, he found Blakely putting his own mail back in its envelope, turning in his chair to face him fully. He deftly pulled the cigarette from behind his ear and lit it quickly, focusing his attention back on him. 

“Rosie…?”

“Yea, I’m just…” he swiped a hand down his face with a groan, trying to find the words to actually make sense of it all. He couldn’t. “No, Ev. I not okay.”

“Alright, well, what’s eating at ya?” The smoke billowed from his lips as he spoke, swirling around both him and Rosie. Though he wasn’t a smoker, Rosie found it oddly comforting as it wrapped around him. 

“Pappy sent a letter. I asked him to go out and look after Jo while Croz was home, I had a feeling she wasn’t going to take his furlough all that well, and it turns out I was right.”

“Couldn’t have been easy, what, with Croz being home and you-”

“I should be home already, Ev.”

“Do you regret it? Reupping?”

“They say hindsight is twenty-twenty, right?”

“Jesus, Rosie,” Ev exhaled, turning to knock the ashes off the end of his cigarette. “What did Pappy have to say?”

“He took her to the Stork Club for dinner and dancing with Croz and Jean. She made him get on the Cyclone. I should be taking her to the club for dinner and dancing and dragging her on that damn ride.” 

“Pal, I know we all tried to talk you out of it before you went in to see Bennet, and I’m not going to sit here and tell you that you should have listened to us. It’s not going to change anything.”

“There’s a but coming,” Rosie raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ve known you long enough, Blakely.”

“There is a but coming, you’re right. When you do get home, make sure that girl knows how sorry you are, and how much you love her.”

“Gonna marry her.”

“Good, put a ring on her finger. Shit, pal, if I could run away from all this with Val right now, I wouldn’t stop to question it. I’d just go.”

“I’m a bonehead. At least that’s probably the word Croz would use.” 

“Want me to call you a bonehead?”

“No, please. I feel bad enough.”

“Don’t feel bad, you can’t beat yourself up too much. You’ll never get out of your own head if you do.”

“Thanks, Ev.”

“I know I’m not Croz, but we're friends so don’t ever feel like we’re not.”

“Sometimes it's easier to talk to him,” Rosie sighed. “His wife isn’t here, Jo isn’t here, we just have that to gripe over. You and Doug…”

“I get it, Val and Olive are here, and it seems like it’s a million times easier, but I’ll tell ya what, there was a time it wasn’t.”

“Bremen?”

“Bremen, and everything before Bremen. Africa especially.”

“Biddick…”

“Yeah,” Ev sighed. “I always worried something would yank me from her too soon. Then Curt went down and I realized I could just as easily have been the one to go down, and leave her without so much as a warning. Jo doesn’t see all of this, so she’s protected. Val sees bodies carried out of the hospital, and most of her friends covered in blood when they’re pulled out of a fort, or limping into Interrogation. I wish she didn’t have to.”

“I see your point. Sometimes it’s not always greener on the other side.”

“It is, and it isn’t.”

“Jo is protected back home, just wish I was there to protect her.”

“Soon enough, Rosie. Soon enough.”

“Thanks for the chat, Ev.”

“Anytime, Pal,” Ev stood from his seat, and clapped a hand on Rosie's shoulder. “Now come on, I’ll buy you a drink at the club.”

“And Val?”

“She’ll meet us later, I think she’s up in Harding’s office working on some stuff.”

Quickly, they shut off the lights and locked the office, leaving their paperwork for the next day. Rosie stuffed Pappy’s letter into his jacket pocket, following Ev out the door and through Operations until they were outside. Neither bothered to attempt to bid Jack Kidd goodnight. 

The air was cool, and the lights that illuminated the walkways were just flickering on as they turned towards the officers club, already filling up with replacements spilling from the mess halls, and the odd crew they were friendly with. 

“You think he told Jean?” Rosie turned to catch Blakely’s gaze as the other man lit up a cigarette. Realization dawned on him when he figured out what exactly Rosie was hinting at. 

“He’d be stupid not to.”

“I only just told Jo, though I’m guessing she had an idea.”

“When did Croz tell you?”

“Remember New Year’s Eve? Before you and Dougie came into the racks with the bottle of Vat 69 I’m still not sure how you got your hands on.”

“Ohhhh yeah!” Ev grinned. “Wait! You knew from then?”

“I did…”

“He’s your guy for this stuff isn’t he…” 

“Isn’t Doug yours?” Rosie replied. 

“I’m Doug’s,” Ev laughed. “You want good advice, come to me. You want someone to tell you it’s okay to bring a donkey home from Africa, you go to Doug.”

“I will, uh, remember that.” Rosie laughed. 

He couldn’t change any of this, and his decision would be something he’d live with for the rest of his life, but support made it easier. Jo had support at home. She had her parents, and his Ma, Jean Crosby and now Juliet and Vika upstate. Rosie had Croz, and though Ev Blakely had always been a friend, he realized this was the first time the two of them had gotten deep and shared the realities of war together. He had envied the man for months that Val was here with him, not realizing just how hard it had been for the woman to watch him fly off and potentially never come back. How rough it was on him to leave her on the ground time after time. To have pulled her through the aftermath of the Africa mission, while his crew had simply stood down and been meant to watch it all unfold. 

These were the realities of this war. You missed people, you lost people, you made mistakes and you learned lessons. But, you also made friends, and sometimes if you were lucky those friends became your family. Rosie hadn’t realized it at first, but his family was growing both back home, and here at Thorpe Abbotts, and it all came down  to one person.

My dearest Jo…

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Rosie & Jo, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

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[crystallizedtwilight]

Have there been emotional moments between LB? Or Lock or Barrel being sad? Is there possible to see more fluff with them? Love your art of Lock and Barrel together.

below the cut!

Aside from the general trauma bonding that took place whilst living in fear of Boogie, there fortunately haven’t been too many sad days after Boogie is gone. There is only one of major note, which wasn’t between Lock and Barrel, but rather Lock and Shock:

The biggest meltdown Lock ever had was when Shock started coven studies.

He had an extremely difficult time when Shock announced she was going to start spending a few days a month with the coven, learning from the more experienced witches in town and improving her magic. For Shock, this was a matter of bettering herself, a dream she needed to pursue to feel happy and fulfilled. However, Lock was mortified, feeling like she was abandoning them or breaking their trio in some way.

He hated the idea of “sharing” her with outsiders. He also couldn’t relate to Shock reaching out for help from others (something he finds incredibly difficult to do). He had a very firm Us vs. The World attitude that saw him through his younger days, and he couldn't fathom the idea that his friends might be open to letting others assist. He was angry with her, purposefully starting irrelevant arguments, and when she had to leave for a week to study a moon ritual they ended things on bad terms. Barrel could see how distressed he was and tried to comfort him: 

“She’s not ditching us, Lock. She just…has a dream she’s got to follow.”

“Yeah? Well if feels fucking shitty being second best to that dream.” 

“It’s not like that. She still cares about us. She just cares about this, too.” 

“I don’t get it! I always thought all we needed was each other! But I guess…”

Lock’s whole expression fell at his own realization, brow furrowed, gold eyes brimming with tears as he stared unseeingly at the floor,

“…I-I guess the only person who needed this was me.”

“Lock…” 

“Are you gonna leave, too?” Lock’s voice was small and hurt, strained with the struggle not to cry. Naturally, Barrel pulled him into a hug, holding him almost too tightly to steady Lock’s shaking as the tears started.

“No, I’m not leaving you. Never.” 

Lock sobbed a lot that week and every night he slept in Barrel’s room because he couldn’t be alone.

When Shock returned from her retreat, Barrel pulled her aside and let her know that Lock was really broken up about all of this and that is why he was being so irritable with her lately.

Completely surprised by this, Shock decided to take a gentler approach. She found Lock on the roof and sat beside him so they could have a heart-to-heart. 

“I’m not leaving for good, you know.”

“You can do whatever you want. I don’t care,” Lock said, knees pulled to his chest, arms crossed over them, avoiding eye contact.

Instead of initiating another fight, Shock understood the issue better now, seeing Lock’s insecurities on full display.

“You and Barrel are always gonna be my best friends, you know that, right?”

Lock was silent. 

“Having several dreams doesn’t mean choosing between them. I’m not leaving because I don’t like you guys, I’m leaving because I want to like me more. I want to be proud of myself, you know? Live up to my full potential. And you guys are a part of that, even if we’re not together every second.”

“So, you’ll still be around, right? You won’t decide you like them more than us one day and stop coming back to the treehouse?”

“Hey, someone’s gotta keep you in line. I’m the leader of the group, after all!” Shock said, brightly.

“I’m the leader.”

“Birds of a feather?” Shock offered.

“Now and forever.” Lock echoed with a small smile.