#and they booked an uber for the airport this morning

[changguscomet]

I went from having like 10 people in this house yesterday to being on my own for the next week wtf this is so strange

[hearts4golbach]

Hey can I request y/n surprising Billie at the Grammys? Thanks

Double-Winner.

Billie Eilish x Fem!Reader.

a/n: sorry this is so short, i had no clue how to fulfill this tbh but i tried my best! hope you like it x

"bil, for the last time," I sighed heavily, "im not going to be able to make it. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

billie whined on the other end of the phone, "it's not the same, ma."

I continued packing my suitcase. "I know, babe, but you know I have a huge meeting that I can not miss."

she grumbled, "I know." I heard water running and movement. "Wish me luck." she muttered as she began to brush her teeth.

"i'll be manifesting for you," i joke, walking to the bathroom to prepare my toiletries. "You're going to win the grammy." i reassure her.

i could hear her take a deep breath and sigh. "Yeah, hopefully. i think i should go to bed, big day tomorrow." she cheesed.

"Alright," i say dramatically. "If you have to."

she made a kiss noise, "i love ya."

"i love you too. Text me when you're up." i kissed her back before she hung up.

i checked the time on my phone, silently thanking billie for hanging up at the perfect time. i zipped up my suitcase and threw on my slides before walking out of the house. i double-checked to make sure the door was walked before i drove off towards the airport.

the cool winter breeze caught me off guard as i stepped out of my warm car. i dreaded all of the airport security traffic. it took me forever to get through everything, but i had finally made it on the flight that would take me to surprise billie.

i found out 3 hours before she called me that the meeting was canceled, and i decided i was going to surprise her. i booked the fastest flight and sound one that was perfect. i was surprised it was still available.

i sat peacefully on the plane, drinking Sprite and eating the iconic honey roasted peanuts. of course, i spent the whole time worrying over billies' reactions. would she be mad that i lied to her? i pondered back and forth, defending each argument for yes and no over in my mind.

the loud, robotic sounding woman over the speakers awoke me from my sleep. i rushed to get off the plane as i only had 2 hours to make it in time to see billie. i went to the nearest airport restroom and changed into my stunning dress that i had been saving for a really special occasion. it was a long, ruby red silk slip dress. it had a slit in the right legs and was long enough to trail behind me. i had straightened my hair before i left, and it had managed to stay intact. i did quick but elegant makeup and called my Uber.

the wait for the Uber was spent getting cat called by older men while waiting for billie to text me back.

me: How's your morning going, babe? i miss you

billie ❤️: it's going good, just doing hair and make up

billie ❤️: you?

billie ❤️: i miss you sm mama

me: just been thinking about you

billie: i gotta go get dressed, text you after ❤️

me: sounds goood

the Uber arrived and took me to my hotel room, which i had to rush to get ready since i was running late.

i basically threw on the dress that complimented hers, so i had enough time for makeup. luckly, i didn't like to do heavy makeup.

whenever i was finally done, billie texted me.

billie ❤️: god everything reminds me of how much i wish you could be here.

billie ❤️: theres an extra seat at the table for some reason

me: hm thats weird, dont worry, though i have the live video pulled up right now

i lied as i climbed into the Uber. i told the man my destination, and he began driving. butterflies were building up, and i couldn't wait to see her reaction.

i made it right in time, making it in time for the music related awards. i chatted with Lizzie Grant, one of my favorite music artists, as i waited for billie to leave the table so i could sneak in.

whenever they finally announced the first award for "what was i made for?" she got up and walked onto the stage.

i slid into my seat quietly, waving to finneas and claudia, who were in on the surprise.

i admired billie on stage. i was so proud of her. I couldn't contain it. a stupid smile spread on my face as i saw her bright smile on stage.

"Thank you so much. i really couldn't have done it without y/n and finneas. i love you too, and im so sorry you couldn't be here, baby." she blew a kiss to the camera, which i knew there'd be edits of later on.

she walked back, thanking all the people who congratulated her as she walked by.

she was only a few feet away whenever she made eye contact with me. her face lit up, and her smile grew. she ran towards me, pulling me out of my chair and capturing me in a tight hug. she peppered my face in kisses before finally meeting my lips. she held her lips on mine, and i didn't want her to pull away.

"You actually made it!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around my waist.

"How could i miss it?! my meeting got rescheduled, but i was planning on surprising you anyway. so everything worked out in the end." i explained.

"When did you get here?" she asked, her smile never fading.

"literally 2 and a half hours ago." i laughed, my arms snaking around her neck. "im so proud of you, bil."

"Thank you, mama." she pecked my lips once more, "i love you."

"i love you more." i smiled, "youre amazing. you deserve this so much."

billie went on to win another grammy. needless to say, we celebrated a lot that night.

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ aftermath ] t. zegras

paring : Trevor Zegras x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) helps Trevor deal with Jamie leaving and breaking his ankle all in 24 hours

warning(s) : injury, some angst

author’s note : it’s me. hi. i’m the problem, it’s me

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She definitely believes in the snowball effect after the last 24 hours of her life. It’s one of the reasons why she’s currently on a flight in the middle of the night to Raleigh to meet her boyfriend’s hockey team at their hotel.

Both her life and Trevor’s life have changed so much in 24 hours. Trevor left with the Ducks for their road trip expecting to have a fun trip. His best friend was finally 21 and could enjoy all that Nashville had to offer.

Then Jamie got the call that no player ever really wants to get from their general manager.

Hours later, he was on a flight to Philly and leaving the Ducks and a distraught Trevor behind in Tennessee.

She should’ve gotten on a plane then and there. Instead, she tempted fate.

The next day was Trevor’s 200th career NHL game, and he had to play it without his best friend on the ice with him. (Y/N) happily watched from their apartment in Anaheim.

Until Trevor went down along the boards after 3 shifts and two minutes total on the ice. She was on her feet as she watched her boyfriend get helped down the tunnel. He wasn’t putting any pressure on his left leg as the trainers helped him.

She blew up his phone with texts and calls until one in the morning California time. He never replied. Then she texted Mason and asked where the Ducks were staying in Raleigh. She booked a flight and asked Mason to get Trevor’s room number when they got there.

Luckily there was a nonstop flight to Raleigh that left from LAX at three that she just barely made. She packed a duffel bag and ran out the door to catch the flight.

After nearly five hours in the air and multiple timezone changes, (Y/N) lands in North Carolina. She left at three in the morning and landed at eleven in the morning. Mason’s text with Trevor’s room number and a he’s cranky comes through as she grabs her duffel from baggage claim.

Honestly, she should’ve gotten on a flight as soon as Trevor told her that Jamie got traded. This is what happens when you tempt fate.

She orders an Uber from the airport to the hotel where Trevor is staying with the Ducks.

Why he traveled with them after getting hurt is beyond her. Maybe it isn’t a long term injury and it’s just a sprain.

Either way, she’s about to find out.

After a ten minute debate with herself, she lightly knocks on Trevor’s door.

It’s a second before the door opens. As soon as it swings open though, her heart breaks at the sight behind it.

Trevor stands on crutches with his ankle wrapped. His eyes are red and puffy and it looks like he hasn’t slept a wink in two days. Honestly, he probably hasn’t.

"Trev," she pouts.

He shakes his head and quickly spins to walk back into the room. She follows him and lets the door shut behind her. "I don't want you here, (Y/N)," he tells her. The voice crack tells her all she needs to know. He does actually need her here.

"I don't care," she replies. "I'm here anyway." Trevor leans the crutches against the middle table and sits on the bed. "You haven't exactly had the best few days so I came to make sure you're okay."

"I'm not fucking okay!" Trevor shouts at her before rubbing his face and running his fingers through his hair to compose himself. "My best friend plays across the damn country now after getting traded out of nowhere and I might have just broken my damn ankle in a milestone game. I'm going to be out for like two months again."

(Y/N) crouches down in front of him and puts her hands on his knees. "I'm sorry, baby," she softly says. "I can't even begin to imagine how you feel right now. I know Jamie's in Philly right now and I know you won't talk to anyone else about how you feel so that's why I'm here. I don't want you to bottle up your feelings."

"It just sucks," Trevor says, voice shaky. "Everything's changing and I don't like it. I'm probably going to have to go to Jamie's and pack his apartment so I can send his stuff to him, especially now that I'm out and won't be able to do anything."

She gets up and sits next to her boyfriend. She grabs one of his hands and holds it on her lap. She rubs the back of her hand with her thumb. Trevor leans over and drops his head to her shoulder. She wraps an arm around his shoulders and plays with his hair.

"I'm here," she whispers. "I don't care if you don't want me here. I'll always be here."

"I know," Trevor replies. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm just frustrated and confused and in pain."

(Y/N) kisses his temple and buries her face in his hair. "It's okay," she says. "You're feeling a lot right now so I don't blame you for anything you say right now. Just know that I'll be here the entire time. As for Jamie, you know he's a phone call away whenever you wanna talk to him. He'll answer every single time you call him."

He nods. "Yeah," he mumbles. "Can we lay down until I meet with the doctor?"

"Of course," she replies. "Whatever you wanna do. What time do you meet with the doctor?"

"Three," Trevor tells her as he gets comfortable. Well, as comfortable as he can since he's hurt. "I have to leave at two."

That's enough time for both of them to take a two hour nap.

She sets her alarm for 1:30 then settles in next to him. She wraps a leg around his waist and rests her head on his forehead while he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

"Thank you for coming," Trevor whispers, his voice tired. "You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," she assures him. "Close your eyes for a bit. I'll wake you up when it's time to leave."

He nods and within seconds, his breathing evens out. She smiles and falls asleep herself knowing that Trevor is finally getting some rest.

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MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

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taglist : @fanboysfangirl @dasiysthings @axaslee @dancerbailey3 @goldihocksrocks @love4lando @sweetinsatiable

[captain-hawks]

Hello Dee!! I am sending you a care package full of soup and soft tissues and home made cookies in the hopes you get well soon!! 💙💙

And in the meantime, may I request Iwaizumi + red?

(thank you nonnie you're so sweet<3!!)

hajime iwaizumi x reader

c: fluff, angst, pining, childhood friends

“I think you should stay.”

Nearly lulled to sleep in the late hour by the dark, quiet highway you’ve been travelling on, you jump slightly from where you’re leaning against the cool surface of the window at the sound of Iwaizumi’s voice. The car rolls to a stop at the foot of the exit ramp, the traffic light overhead casting the interior of the car in a dull shade of red interspersed with the shadows of the raindrops sliding down the windshield. 

When you turn, his eyes are trained on the empty road ahead, his brown hair mussed like he’s been running his hands through it repeatedly while you were dozing in the passenger seat. For a moment, you wonder if you were just hearing things, but as if he can feel you looking at him, he briefly turns to meet your gaze.

“Sorry,” he gruffly adds, inhaling once before turning away, the car rolling forward as the light turns green. “It’s none of my business.”

You booked a flight back home on a whim three days ago, a redeye with nothing but a backpack and weary eyes that had done far too much crying—that, and a phone full of missed texts and calls from your fiancé. 

When you texted Iwaizumi that surprise, you were coming home for a surprise visit with absolutely no notice at all and landing at three o’clock in the morning, your childhood friend smelled your bullshit from a mile away. 

And subsequently was waiting at the airport for you upon your arrival, despite the fact that he’d been working all day. Despite the fact that he had an early morning ahead. Despite the fact that you insisted you could find a rideshare service to your parents’ house.

“You’re not taking an Uber by yourself in the middle of the night, I’m picking you up. Don’t argue.”

He knew something was terribly wrong the moment you approached his car. But he didn’t pry—not yet. Rather, he immediately wrapped you in a warm, reassuring embrace that felt like home and trust and safety and other things that were far too complicated to think too hard about out there on the cold airport sidewalk in your hometown.

The edge of the diamond nestled on your finger pricks uncomfortably at your skin as you idly spin the ring with your thumb, the gem weakly reflecting off of the street lights—dim in comparison to the small, bright green digits on the dash that read 1:32.

He has no idea that you fell a little bit in love with him the day that he picked up your soccer ball when it rolled across the street into his yard when you were eight years old, a shy grin on his face as he traversed the expanse of blacktop that separated his house from yours to bring it back to you. 

He has no idea how many times you nearly confessed to him in high school, hasn’t the slightest clue how wrong he was all the times he rolled his eyes as he assumed you were always at his house because you had a crush on Oikawa.

He doesn’t know how badly a stupid, immature, traitorous part of you wanted to hear those words when you told him you were moving across the country with your college boyfriend Daisuke. 

Stay.

He doesn’t know that your heart fumbled when Daisuke got down on one knee, the way the first goddamn thing you thought of was him. 

Hajime Iwaizumi has no idea how much of your heart belongs to him.

Even now.

After all this time.

“I don’t want to marry Daisuke,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Your body rocks forward as the car comes jolting to a sudden stop in the middle of a deserted street, your momentum halted by Iwaizumi’s arm that quickly shoots out to brace the impact. He stares over at you with wide eyes, and raindrops drum a soft, lazy rhythm atop the roof as his chest rises and falls. 

“What?”

Glancing down at the ring on your finger and subsequently back up at the man sitting beside you again, you nod, as if you’re not currently parked in the middle of the street on your way back to the airport for a flight back to your fiancé that’s leaving very soon.

“I don’t want to marry him,” you repeat, staring down at your hands as you fold them in your lap. You tug down the sleeves of the sweatshirt you’re wearing—Iwaizumi’s old Seijoh volleyball hoodie—covering your palms up to the base of your thumb.

Iwaizumi’s quiet for a beat, and you hear the sound of his head falling back against the headrest. 

“I don’t want you to marry him either,” he breathes out, quietly, his voice a little rough, a bit uncertain—like he doesn’t think he’s allowed to be saying it.

There’s so much you want to say right now, so many things you want to know.

A million words you can feel hovering on the tip of Iwaizumi’s tongue, words pressed into his grip on the steering wheel, caught somewhere between the gearshift and the glove compartment and your lone little backpack sagging sideways in the backseat. 

Reaching out, you take Iwaizumi hand in yours, carefully lacing your fingers together. 

He turns his head, face tilted sideways against the headrest. And though it’s dark inside his old sedan, your heart tumbles against your ribcage at the way he’s looking at you.

“This is still none of my business,” he murmurs, thumb tentatively running over the back of your hand.

“Then tell me you want it to be your business,” you whisper.

“I do.”

A car passes by in the opposite lane, the headlights washing over both of you, and you’ve never wanted to kiss him so badly in your life.

Your cheeks feel wet as you ask him, “Will you pick me up from the airport when I get back? I might have a lot of stuff with me.”

Iwaizumi lifts your tangled hands, gently kissing the place where your thumbs overlap as he nods before bringing them both to the gearshift to put the car back in drive.

"Of course."

[bigfootsmom]

Wip Wednesday

I have missed so many tag games but thank you to everyone who kept tagging me <3 <3 <3 thank you to the lovely @princessfbi, @bidisasterevankinard, and @tizniz for the wip Wednesday tags <3 <3 <3

So…. I started something new and finished nothing old. Sorry.

His parents last a week. Almost.

They make it six full days. Then, on the morning of the seventh day since Buck had been discharged from the hospital, they’re gone. Bags packed and tucked neatly into the back of an Uber on its way to the airport.

Buck wishes he had been surprised, wishes that his parents’ flimsy excuses and hollow apologies hadn’t all been echoes of what he’s heard before — “You know I don’t do well far from home, and your father has an important meeting. We would stay if we could, but you know how it is. We’ve already spent so much time here.”

Six days. Buck died and he still only manages to get his parents’ attention for six days.

When his parents had told him on the evening of the sixth day that their flight was booked — Buck was five years old with skinned knees, he was seven years old with a broken arm, he was ten with the flu and desperately wishing his mom would cross the safe distance she was always keeping and just hold him.

The bitter taste in his mouth as he had choked down his dinner had nothing to do with the pills he had swallowed, and the ache in his chest was something that ran far deeper than his broken ribs.

He fell for it again. He thought— he doesn’t know what he thought, but he had hoped it would be different. Buck had hoped their love wouldn’t have an expiration date this time around.

Tagging: @usersiren @holdmygum @swiftietartt @honestlydarkprincess @maygrantgf

@shyaudacity @eddiebabygirldiaz @roy-kents @buddie-buddie @homerforsure

@mellaithwen @bisexual-buck @underwaterninja13 @father-salmon @devirnis

@giddyupbuck @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @lonelychicago @loveyouanyway

@diazsdimples @topdiaz @shortsighted-owl @smallandalmosthonest, and YOU if you want to post something!!!

[babyflorencee]

Only one bed

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

The anticipation for the premiere of my latest project, 'little women' had my nerves on edge as I sat in the airport, waiting for my Uber. Tomorrow's event promised excitement and anxiety in equal measure – after all, being one of the main characters in a show was a huge accomplishment for me.

As I scrolled through my Instagram feed, a message from my driver notified me of his arrival. Stepping outside the airport, I was met by a cheerful man who swiftly took my suitcase and stowed it in the trunk before we set off on the short journey, engaging in light conversation along the way.

My phone buzzed incessantly with notifications from the group chat comprised of my fellow 'Little women' cast members. Amidst the chatter, the revelation that we had to share rooms due to a booking oversight surfaced. I sighed inwardly, hoping I wouldn't end up rooming with Timothée – a fellow actor whom I didn't like, at all.

"Miss, we're here," The driver said, getting out and walking around to the trunk to get my bags. Once I got out of the car, I heard someone shout, "Y/N!" looking up I saw Florence with her arms wide open sprinting over to me. I smiled at her, engulfing her in a bear hug. We stayed that way for a while until we heard someone calling our names. We turned around to see Saoirse behind us. "We're deciding who's rooming with who." She said, walking back to the hotel's lobby with Florence and I following close behind her.

***

"Oh fuck no!" I yelled, "I'm not going to be sharing a room with this mother fucker." I said pointing towards Timothée.

"Yeah, and I don't want to share a room with her either!" He retorted, crossing his arms and pouting, causing me to roll my eyes at his childish behavior.

After a while of arguing I eventually gave up, knowing I wouldn't win this argument.

I was to share a room with Timothée. Our mutual disdain for each other was palpable as we rode the elevator to the 19th floor.

"Going up," the elevator announced as it started moving.

I shot Timothée a scornful glare, my irritation palpable at the thought of sharing a room, especially with him – the last person I wanted as a roommate.

The elevator opened revealing the floor we would all be staying on for the next few days. We all went our separate ways just wanting to get to our rooms.

Timothée and I were walking down the halls when we saw our room number. Disgruntled and resigned to our fate, Timothée opened the door throwing his bags on the floor and going straight to the bathroom, grabbing a cup, and filling it with water, while I just stood in the middle of the room in shock.

"Uh, Timothée," I called out to him.

"What n/n?" He said with attitude, walking over towards me and taking a sip from his water.

"Look!" I said, pointing to the spacious yet troubling sight – a solitary king-size bed occupying the center of the room.

Any other person from the cast and I would've been totally fine with it. Why out of all the people did it have to be with Timothée? "You sleep on the bed; I'll sleep on the floor,""He said, grabbing two of the pillows and one of the blankets.

Feeling guilt take over my body, I said, "Tim, it's fine; we could just share the bed; we could put a pillow to divide us."

He didn't reply; he just smiled, throwing the pillow and blanket back on the bed before leaving for the bathroom once again. Timothée emerged from the bathroom in casual blue-and-white pajamas, a departure from his usual appearance. He settled onto his side of the bed, slipping beneath the duvet and cuddling against his pillow. He actually looked kinda cute right now. As much as I hated to admit it, he was a really attractive guy, he just has a terrible personality.

I, too, got under the covers, snuggling up into my pillow before drifting off to sleep.

The night passed relatively quiet until the early hours of the morning, I awoke to sudden movement in the room. To my dismay, my eyes slowly opened to reveal Florence, Emma, and Saoirse standing around the bed, brandishing their phones like paparazzi. I shot up, waking Timothée up from my sudden movements. "What the hell are you guys doing in here?" I questioned.

"I think the real question is how you even got in here." Timothée said, with an annoyed expression.

"Irrelevant," Florence said as Saoirse shoved her phone in our faces.

"Look how cute you guys look!" She said, revealing a photo of Timothée and me spooning with his arm wrapped around me.

My face flushed red as I looked down trying to hide my face. After a while of them teasing us, they eventually left. "Hey, um sorry about that, I didn't know I did that in, my sleep," Timothée said, his head down in embarrassment.

I put my hand on top of his making him look at me. "It's fine, really," I said, smiling at him.

Driven by a surge of impulse, I closed the distance between us, our lips colliding in an unexpected union. Timothée responded, his touch gentle yet firm as he cradled my face in his hands. A smile crept onto my lips as I tangled my fingers in his curls, savoring the moment of intimacy. We both pulled away for air, going back for another kiss when we heard someone clearing their throat, jumping away from each other we saw Emma and Saoirse with big smiles on their face, "you owe me 20 bucks, pay up." Florence said, putting her hand out.

"Seriously how the fuck are you guys getting in here?!"

***

This is definitely not my best work ever, so I apologize for that.

[words-4u]

right person (1/3)

pairings: luca x reader, marcus x reader (platonic)

wc: 1.4k

a/n: immediately started planning a three part series on luca while watching the bear s2. that's what a tatted will poulter does to me (the bear is an incredible show btw pls watch if you don't)

warning: swearing

part 2 / part 3

"denmark?"

"yes! we are sending you and marcus to denmark for two weeks to stage at this really great restaurant. you're gonna learn to do three new desserts for us. carmy knows the head pastry chef. says he's really cool so it should be fun, right?" sydney explained.

"that does sound fun! i'm in!" you smile.

you look at marcus who was deep in thought. if you had to guess what he was thinking, his mind is probably on his mom who was currently bed ridden at a hospital.

you put a hand on marcus' shoulder. "you good with that?" you ask your co pastry chef.

he broke out of his thoughts and nods. "yeah, i-i'm great. i'd love to."

"great! cause you guys really didn't have a choice. your flights are already booked for tomorrow afternoon sooo thanks!" sydney offers two thumbs and an awkward smile before she leaves what used to be the kitchen.

"holy shit," you whisper in shock. "staging at a michelin star restaurant in a country i've always wanted to visit. could this be any better?"

"i have to go tell my mom but give me a call if you need a ride to the airport tomorrow. chester will probably take me and we can swing by your place if you want?"

"dude, yes! that'd save me a shit ton of money that i would've spent on uber."

"cool, see you," marcus grabs his bag and heads out the door.

after helping fak, riche and gary with fallen ceiling debris, you decide to leave a bit early to pack and clean your apartment before your travel.

it was noon on the dot the next day when marcus calls to check if you were ready for the airport. since you packed the night before, you had a rather peaceful morning. chester talks your ear off the whole way to the airport and you guys get there he demands to see your passports because he wants to make sure you and marcus actually had it on you.

"chester, can you do me a favour and check in on my ma when you get the time?" marcus asks.

"dude, i'm way ahead of you. gonna check on her every morning on my way to work,"

"i appreciate it."

chester looks at both you. "now, i want you take a deep breath and let the good in. you guys are gonna kill it."

you grin at marcus' friend. "thanks chester. okay we're gonna have to leave now before we miss our flight."

marcus says his farewell to his best friend and the two of you head to your gate.

the plane ride to copenhagen was smooth despite marcus' worries. you guys hop on a train to explore the city before heading to where you were staying.

"trains here are way cleaner than the ones in chicago," marcus leans over to whisper.

"waay cleaner," you agree.

the two of you exited the station and stood in awe of your view. clear blue skies. cool fresh air. colourful buildings. and the smell of hotdogs which was incredibly appealing after your long journey.

you and marcus lock eyes. "oh yeah."

marcus got a hotdog with dried onions and pickles on top while you had a plain jane moment with just ketchup.

"this is the best thing i've ever put in my mouth," you say with in between bites.

"just what i needed honestly," marcus says.

after your quick meal, the two of you continue to wander the city taking in the architecture most of all.

marcus was using the maps feature on his phone to find the place you were supposed to be staying at.

"uh i don't see any apartment buildings near," you say. "are you sure we are in the right place?"

marcus led you to a canal where some boats were docked. "i am 99.9% sure. you're staying in 286 and i'm in 287."

you glance at the boat in front of you and saw the gold numbers plaque on the side. "well, mystery solved. this is your place and i'm guessing this one is mine." you moved further down to the boat behind marcus' one.

"sick," he smiles.

"i'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"night, y/n!"

you walk down a couple of steps before unlocking a door that lead to a kitchen and dining room. it was spacious and you were grateful for the many windows it had. the stairs to the left led up to the bedroom which was a lot smaller than you anticipated having only space for your bed and a small cabinet for clothes.

you flop on your bed and exhaled. you didn't realize how tired you were until your head hit the soft mattress and while everything in you wanted to knock out, you knew you had to get up and unpack because you wouldn't have time tomorrow.

one thing you were not was a morning person and yes you should have gotten used to it by now working in the restaurant industry but getting up at 4 a.m. will never feel natural. regardless, you had a twinge of excitement for your new job and excited to learn under this new chef that carmy spoke so highly of.

once you got ready for the day, you hear three soft knocks.

"morning," you say. "you ready?"

"born ready," marcus says as you lock your door and head to the restaurant.

it was only a 15 minute walk from where you were staying so the two of you arrive with time to spare.

you walk into the bright kitchen and suck in a breath. the kitchen was stunning with it's high-end equipment, gorgeous green tiling and the young hot chef moving bags of flour from one table to another.

"chef. i'm marcus brooks and this is y/n y/l/n," marcus begins. "and we're from-"

the chef looks up for a quick second. "i know. i'm luca, pastry. we start at 5 a.m. your section's at the end of the bench."

the english accent takes you by surprise. your knees could have buckled right then and there.

"yes, chef," the two of you say in unison.

now your excitement turned into nervousness. not only were you to create three star-worthy desserts for the bear, you had to learn from someone who is so extremely good looking it hurts.

marcus and you head to the back to change into your uniforms which was a basic indigo t-shirt and a green apron like luca had.

when you went back out, you immediately wash your hands and got ready for whatever luca had in store for you guys.

luca had marcus rollout croissant pastry while he led you to a table where he had prepared a dessert. your task was to place pieces of peanuts at a certain angle as part of its presentation.

you study luca as he shows you what to do. he had small black tattoos scattered up and down his arms. that alone is having an effect on you.

"here, you try," he says passing the tweezers to you.

your fingers brush as you took the small tool from him. luca didn't make eye contact but you did notice his jaw clench.

"nuzzle that sliver into the pudding just to lock it in."

"yes, chef," you say.

taking one of the small nuts from the bowl, you place it on the pudding but it slipped last second.

"no. again, chef," he says in a calm yet assertive tone.

"sorry," you say and try again and it's worse which luca picks up on.

"hm, worse."

he takes the tweezers from you and picks up the piece. "don't be afraid to just stick it in there, you know," luca takes the nut and slides it in perfectly. "just be confident about it."

"don't second-guess yourself," he says finally locking eyes with you.

you nod. "yes, chef."

you took the tweezers back and third time was the charm because you placed the nut in the pudding just like he'd showed you. smiling to yourself, you put the tool down.

luca's face stays expressionless. he looks up from the dessert. "you know how to make shiso gelee?"

you absolutely do not know how to make whatever he just said but there was no way you were gonna let him know that.

"yes, chef."

"alright."

luca steps away to grab some ingredients which gives you the opportunity to whip your phone out and google the gelee. "dextrose? what the fuck is that?" you whisper to yourself.

luca came back and places a tray in front you. "recipe," he says tapping some blue index cards.

you felt your face burn. "thank you, chef."

end of part 1 omggg. not much luca x reader but it’s warming up trust me. i already have ideas for part 2 and 3 with some potential alternate endings... stay tuned

if you enjoyed, please let me know (through my bio) if you have any the bear requests, send them my way!

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 38)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (35) & Alexia Putellas x Character (6)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**Don't be mad at me, please! Good stuff coming next chapter!**))

It was Friday morning and Lucy was just making breakfast when she heard Narla barking like crazy. Postman. She suddenly got excited and ran to the door, grinning at the package on her doorstep. It had arrived later than expected and she’d been like an eager child. Today was going to be a good day. A present. A hard training day for the game tomorrow. A bar dinner with Alexia after practise, and then YFN’s flight was supposed to land at 10pm.

She brought the little box inside and placed it on the coffee table in her lounge room so Narla could see it better. She was also interested.

“What’s this, Narls, huh? A present from mum’s girlfriend?”

Narla yapped at her as if they were having a conversation.

“Of course, you knew that, how silly of me. Oh, you’re going to love her. She’s coming tonight, remember!”

Narla yapped again, this time a little impatiently as Lucy tore into the box. She loved opening things; it was always like a Christmas present for her.

Inside she found three items. One was a new chew toy for Narla, a little football which she threw to her to stop her yapping. She loved it and Lucy wondered if it would last until YFN arrived. The second was a little set of sandcastle buckets with a shovel. It may have seemed like a silly little thing to most people, but not to Lucy. She immediately thought about how high and complex she’d now be able to build them with these. She grinned. YFN probably didn’t realise the monster she created by gifting those. The last item was a small blue polaroid camera.

She read the printed note inside the box.

Hi Luce,

We just hung up the phone and I already miss the sound of your voice.

I hope you and Narla like your presents. I’m excited for our beach mornings and sunsets!

As for the polaroid camera, I thought we could make some memories with it…

I can’t wait to see you again. I miss the warmth of you next to me.

I miss you.

YFN x

Lucy leant back against the couch and read the note again, unable to control her smile. 10pm tonight she’d be there. 10pm.

“A bit distracted, Lucia?” Mapi teased as her ball hit Lucy’s stomach before she had time to react.

They were standing in a circle, doing their usual training.

“YFN’s coming tonight.” Kiera teased from Lucy’s left, giving Lucy a light shove.

Alexia was on Lucy’s right and moved a little closer. “Your girlfriend is coming tonight?”

Lucy nodded, understanding the real question. “Yeah but not until 10pm. I’ll be with you until around 9:30pm. I figured we couldn’t be out too late anyways with the game tomorrow.”

“Ah,” Alexia nodded, though with a cheeky expression. “You are definitely not Spanish, Lucia.”

She slapped the opposite shoulder Kiera had, and Lucy rolled her eyes, used to being assaulted by everyone. What Alexia had meant was that in the Spanish culture, it was normal to stay up late and dinner around 9 or 10pm wasn’t unusual.

Jonatan called a break and Lucy pouted at Alexia as they took water bottles from the esky. “How long do you plan on staying out?”

The game was just over 300km south of Barcelona in Villareal at 4:30pm and their short flight left at midday. It wasn’t ideal for YFN who Lucy had also booked flights for, nor was it ideal for Alexia to be awake too late waiting for someone who may not show.

Alexia shrugged. “Midnight maybe.”

She had that determined look in her eye but Lucy could also see a little excitement there.

“Are you driving?”

“I’ll Uber.” Lucy didn’t like the thought that it allowed her to drink but she knew Alexia better than that. She wouldn’t drink before a game day.

“I’ll pick you up. I need to leave for the airport at 9:30pm though but you’ll only have to Uber one way.”

Alexia nodded.

“You two are going out?” Ona said, joining their little group huddled around the esky. Alexia always had people huddling around her, Lucy noticed.

Lucy found a soccer ball and sat down, looking at Alexia to answer.

“Si, but not for long.” She replied in Spanish.

Lucy scoffed. Five hours was definitely long enough.

“Lucia’s girlfriend in flying in tonight,” Asisat Oshoala teased. She was always being cheeky, especially with Lucy. They bantered well. Lucy looked at Ona for a reaction and she wasn’t surprised at her trying to hold her emotions together. She did quite well, to be fair.

“But isn’t it ah…storm tonight?”

Lucy sat up straighter. “What?”

“Oh, yah you’re right. Big storm tonight! Flights being cancelled already.” Oshoala shrugged.

“Already? It’s 5pm!” Lucy groaned and looked around for her phone. Alexia was quicker and knelt down next to Lucy, showing her the news report. The gesture wasn’t lost on Lucy. A week ago, Alexia wouldn’t have been this publicly empathetic towards her.

Lucy looked at the report. It was expecting most passenger liners to be cancelled, and the worst of the storm was hitting around the time that YFN was due.

“Fuck!” She swore between gritted teeth. Alexia rubbed her back. Again, an unusual new development in their friendship. She was pissed, YFN didn’t have much time off. She’d told Lucy the day before that she needed to be back for the games on Sunday, one of which was now starting earlier as she’d made a promise to Kyra.

She internally groaned at that. Her mind asked ‘Why does she have to be such a good person…” and then her mind also answered the question before she’d finished asking it ‘because it’s YFN and this is why we love her.’

The more Lucy read, the more upset she got. She gave Alexia her phone back and put her head in her hands.

“Is it that bad?” Kiera asked.

Lucy nodded into her hands and Oshoala answered. “Very bad weather. Very bad.”

Jonatan called an end to practise entirely then and Oshoala patted Lucy on the back as she walked towards the changing rooms. A few others followed suit until it was just Lucy. Or so she thought. She lifted her head, and wiped away the tears she’d been hiding. She jumped when she saw Alexia still sitting there.

“Sorry,” she gave a little smile. “Are you okay? We don’t have to go tonight.”

“No, we’ll go. It’ll be a good distraction, but I might be on my phone a little more to talk to YFN and check flights.”

“That’s okay. I’m happy you come with me.”

Lucy smiled at that mistake. “Let’s hope one of us gets the girl tonight, hey?”

Alexia had struggled to decide what to wear, eventually deciding casual was best. It was just a bar, after all. She was in dark jeans, white Nike’s, a white crop top exposing her midriff and a black leather jacket. She couldn’t even decide what she wanted to do with her hair and ended up with it down, however putting hair ties around her wrist in case she changed her mind.

Lucy texted just after 6pm and Alexia went to meet her outside. She was waiting in her car, furiously on her phone, and also dressed casually. Lucy loved her casual. She loved her oversized clothes and men’s shirts Alexia had noticed. It suited her well. Alexia saw her clothes better as she got closer. Light brown pants accented with a dark brown belt, her white and light brown matching Nike shoes of course, a tight white singlet and a brand new open white button up shirt. Lucy loved to accessorise also with necklaces and rings along with her studs and nose ring. Alexia tended to notice these little things about people as she loved fashion.

Lucy looked up from her phone as the door opened and looked Alexia up and down with her typical grin, this one more knowing, though.

“Don’t say a word, Lucia.”

“I was just going to say you looked nice.” She said as if she wasn’t also wondering how many times Alexia had changed. Alexia knew her better than that, though.

“Drive.”

They arrived to the bar already busy. Javier ran a comfortable, clean, bustling establishment and anyone could see the pride he put into it. It was due to this, that being busy wasn’t unusual. No matter the day or time, Javier’s bar was always popular, though tonight it was even more so as it was a Friday.

They entered the place and were greeted by a host Alexia recognised.

“Ah, Alexia!” He grinned and came over for their typical Spanish greeting. Lucy also did, and it was always funny to Alexia to watch Lucy have to be physical with people. She didn’t enjoy it. It’s one of the reasons she was so eager to meet her new girlfriend. “Javier has your spot reserved. Come, follow me.”

The host spoke in Spanish, though Alexia knew that Lucy knew enough to understand that.

“Reservation?” She asked behind her as they followed him through the crowd. She seemed overwhelmed by the place, and Alexia wasn’t surprised. She had also been overwhelmed the first time she’d come.

“Si, uh, it gets busy.”

“Yeah…”

“Don’t worry, Lucia, we are safe here from cameras and people.”

The girls in the team had spoken about the bar often. It was one of the reasons they liked it so much, because anyone who came to Javier’s knew to respect boundaries and that no sneaky photos or paparazzi were allowed.

“Here you are. Here are your menus, and the girls will be over soon for drinks.”

Alexia’s favourite spot was a booth that hung onto the corner of the drinks area which allowed drink service across the bar straight to the table. It also had a great view of most of the establishment including the stairs to the private rooms, and also the stage. Alexia looked around and couldn’t see Ridley just yet.

“Anything?” Lucy asked, still looking around the place almost dad-like.

“No.”

A server appeared across the bar and served them then. Alexia and Lucy both weren’t drinking and ordered mocktails instead. They would only allow themselves a few though as they needed to limit bad sugars and keep healthy. Alexia couldn't help her eyes wandering through the bar even though she obviously wasn’t there. She would have been very obvious is she was; surrounded by people and stared at like Alexia was at football games or events.

“It’s early…” Lucy reassured. “If she’s a true Spaniard, she won’t be here until later.”

“She’s not Spanish.” Alexia responded without even thinking about it.

“Oh?”

“She’s Australian.” She’d forgotten how she knew this, most likely through Javier or people she’d spoken to about her, and she never would have guessed. It’s only when she realised she was Australian that she could pick up that hint of an accent and match it.

“Oh, we both have Australian problems, do we?”

Alexia rolled her eyes. “Mine is a problem, yours is not.”

“Not unless you count the crazy people.” That made Alexia laugh a little. Lucy always loved making people laugh. “Tell me about her?”

“There is not much to say, I don’t know her…well.”

“When did you see her last?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“And you haven’t been back?”

“No. We’ve been busy.”

They had been busy, that was for sure. But Lucy thought it was also due to another reason. They ordered an early dinner, Alexia grumbling that no human should be eating so early. As they waited, she opened up a little more.

“I saw her…often for months here. Then she went for five months. Then I see her again. Then she’s gone for five months.”

“Wow, you remember her after basically ten months without speaking?”

“Si, it’s pathetic.” Now Lucy could see why she was so mad at herself. She couldn’t escape this woman.

“No it’s not,” she said sympathetically. Lucy didn’t usually open up but felt like Alexia needed it. “If YFN and I hadn’t gotten close, I would be thinking about her for years. She’s just…I can’t even explain. She just occupies a part of me.”

“Occupies?”

“Ocupa?”

“Ah…yes, like that. We talked to say hello and goodbye and sorry but that’s all.”

“You were talking about Javier the owner? Does he know where she goes to?”

“He said it’s for work, and she parties when she doesn’t work. Normally in Ibiza.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t seen her there.”

“Me too.”

They talked a bit longer about Alexia’s crush until the conversation shifted to football and then onto family and all things they’d never spoken about before. It had evolved to a natural conversation as if they regularly went out just to talk. They ate dinner as they talked, Lucy eating so fast that Alexia was genuinely worried for her and the amount of room she took up on the table. That was Lucy though, and she was unapologetically herself. She listened to Lucy speak about her family, Narla, and when she spoke about YFN she changed. She became someone else and Alexia saw her soften and smile without even knowing she was. She’d sent her a few surprises this morning and Alexia personally wouldn’t have wanted sandcastle buckets, but she knew it was perfect for Lucy. She was Captain and made sure to know her players well. Lucy was one of those players who could influence an entire team, an entire game. She was either high, high energy or very low energy and quiet. A few of the Barca team had been worried about Lucy’s personality clashing when she moved over, however it hadn’t been an issue at all. Alexia had watched as she came in almost shy and took the young players under her wing and slowly integrated with the team to the point where she was now her loud, happy self. That’s one thing she loved about Lucy, the fact that she was happy most of the time, always smiling, even when things were terrible. It was easy then to spot when she was actually going through something horrible, as it would be written over her face. On top of this, Lucy had always been a player she respected highly. Her determination, tenacity and self-confidence were always things Alexia had struggled with, though she never showed just how much. She always kept a brave face. Lucy’s ability to speak impactfully and stand up for players and female football all together were also qualities she’d admired. She hadn’t told her all of that, of course, but she knew Lucy respected her also from the way she treated her. They didn’t need to tell each other; they both knew.

They talked for hours just enjoying each other’s company until it dragged closer to 9:30pm and Lucy became more worried, checking her phone more often.

“Can she come?” Alexia’s limited English made it frustrating to speak, though she did it for her teammate.

“Maybe…there’s a few flights going but we’re unsure. She’s at the airport and they haven’t boarded yet. I…I think I’m going to leave anyway and go to the airport to try and find a flight for her. Will you be okay?”

Alexia nodded. “I’m okay, I will find Javier to say a hello and go home.”

“Do you want me to wait?”

“No Lucia, it’s okay. Thank you for tonight. Go and get your woman.”

Lucy chuckled at that and when they both slipped out of the booth, Lucy hugged her.

“We’ll keep coming back until she’s here, okay?”

Alexia was unsure if it was even worth it, but she nodded and watched as Lucy walked away.

Alexia found the host again and asked where Javier was. She’d seen him moving around through the bar but he hadn’t spotted her and had looked busy. To be honest, once she’d started a full conversation with Lucy, she hadn’t noticed much around them anyways.

“Javier is upstairs sorting out a little drama…” He admitted.

Alexia nodded. It wasn’t regular but it also wasn’t unusual for there to be some drama in the private rooms. She headed up the stairs, looking for her friend. Most rooms were closed, and some were open as they were being cleaned. She rounded the corner where her room eleven was and came to a halt when she saw Javier. He was talking to a figure leaned up against the doorway looking as relaxed as always. She was in dark jeans and a bra, no shoes, no jacket, just that.

“Are you sure you don’t need help? I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

Javier gave her a sceptical look. “It’s all sorted. Go back to your entertainment for the night.”

He spotted her out the corner of his eye then and turned, giving a polite wave and beckoning her over. Ridley’s eyes fell on Alexia and refused to move. They looked her up and down unapologetically.

“La Reina.”

“Alexia!” Javier gave her a proper greeting.

“Hello,” she said in Spanish with fake confidence. It took every fibre of her strength to not look at Ridley, though she could feel her stare burning into her. “I came to find you to say goodbye.”

“Ah, I’m sorry I couldn’t see you and your friend earlier, it’s been a nightmare, let me tell you.”

Before Alexia could respond, one of Javier’s security was beckoning him up the hall and towards where she assumed the drama was occurring. He said his apologies and left to sort it out.

“You’re leaving?”

Alexia looked to Ridley, barely holding her demeanour. “Si, I’ve been here for a few hours, catching up with a friend.”

“I didn't see you…”

“I was in my usual spot,” she smiled politely and couldn’t help but wonder who was in the room behind her. “Have you been here long?”

“Just arrived. We must have missed each other.”

There was a silence then as they stared at each other. Alexia saw Ridley’s pupils dilate as she tilted her head. She looked over Alexia’s face at each of her features, her eyes tending to settle a little longer on her lips. Alexia held strong her confidence for the sake of appearance but couldn’t help her eyes darting into the room and back out. Ridley smirked at that. She really did notice everything.

"I hope you have a good night.” She turned to leave but Ridley’s response stopped her mid turn.

“Would you like to watch?”

It was the same question as that last time she’d seen her and just like then, Alexia hesitated. Her eyes met the teasing gold flecks dancing around Ridley’s dark eyes, though she couldn’t form a response. Unlike last time though, Ridley stepped into her space; the woody, spicy, musky smell melting her, and said something different. “That wasn’t a no, la Reina.”

She waited, though Alexia could still give no response and when Ridley stepped to the side, Alexia found her feet moving her into the room. She stopped as she heard the door click behind her, the locks sliding into place. Ridley’s hands found her hips and gently guided her into the darkened room. She was worried what she’d find, though it wasn’t unexpected. There was a woman, a very attractive woman, lying naked on her bed. Her blonde dyed hair was loose and across the pillow, her wrists tied together and to the bedframe above her head. She also sported a blindfold and a set of headphones.

Sensory deprivation. Alexia hadn’t tried it before, but it looked…incredible.

Ridley made sure the look on Alexia’s face was to her satisfaction before she leant over her other woman and pulled the headphone off of one ear.

“Baby, I have a guest here. She’s going to watch and help. Is that okay?”

“I trust you.”

“Good girl. Be patient, baby, you’ll feel good soon enough.”

She put the headphone back over her ear and kissed her gently on the lips. Alexia’s stomach dropped at that and she felt jealous. She wanted to kiss Ridley. She came back to Alexia, standing in front of her.

“You look nervous, Alexia.”

Something in her body awakened at that. It’s the first time she’d said her name. Ridley noticed and smirked, her fingers touching her cheek lightly.

“Ask me anything.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Alexia whispered.

“No. She’s someone I sleep with.” Noticing Alexia’s unsure look, she continued. “She gets tested often. So do I. We satisfy each other.”

“You’ve been with other women though.”

“So have you, la Reina. I’ve seen you flirting around this bar with different people. You’ve been up to these rooms as often as me.” Her Spanish was impeccable, and the tiny hint of an Australian accent melted her.

Her words also shocked her. She’d been keeping track of her?

The question must have been written on her face because Ridley ducked down close enough that their lips were almost touching. “Are you here for me?”

Alexia found herself too proud to answer that.

“Hm. Will you tell me if I admit to you the reason I’m here?” Her lips found her ear where she whispered. “I come here to see you.”

Alexia shivered, her head moving towards Ridley.

“W…What do you want from me?”

“Oh many, many things. For starters, I’d like to see you doing what you’re told. Can you do that?”

Alexia nodded. Pride out the window.

“Good girl.” Ridley ghosted her lips over Alexia’s teasingly. “Now get on top of her and kiss her.”

She stepped to the side so Alexia could better see the woman on the bed. She felt Ridley behind her carefully taking off her leather jacket and placing it on a spare chair in the room. Without thinking too much about it, Alexia was on top of the gorgeous woman tied to the bed and Ridley watched as Alexia kissed her. The kiss was soft at first as the woman got used to Alexia, and then it became more open mouthed and with purpose.

“That’s enough.” Ridley said almost harshly. She guided Alexia through what she wanted her to do. To kiss her neck. To suck her nipples. To work her mouth down her body until she was settled between her legs. Ridley settled above Alexia, her mouth at her ear.

“Eat.”

Alexia did as she was told. She tasted the woman on the bed whose body gave away just how much she wanted Ridley. She was soaked.

Alexia made quick work of her; her mouth assaulting her clit. The woman on the bed wriggled desperately, moans and whimpers coming from her mouth as Alexia worked.

“Good girl. Fingers now too.”

Alexia’s fingers teasingly ran around her hole, feeling it clench around nothing. It must have been too slow for Ridley though as she took Alexia’s right hand with her own, lining up their index fingers and pushing them both in. The girl on the bed sucked in a breath and gasped at the feel. Ridley controlled her and Alexia’s fingers into the woman for a few strokes until she pulled hers out and left Alexia to finish the job. Alexia felt herself squirming excitedly and then Ridley’s hand slipped between Alexia’s body and the bed, finding its way down her pants and to her core.

“You want this?” Ridley asked in her ear.

Alexia nodded against the woman’s clit.

“Out loud.”

Her mouth popped off of her clit just to respond. “Si.”

Ridley’s fingers moved into Alexia’s folds like she knew her. She teased her clit while Alexia was getting her woman close. She just didn’t know how close Ridley was getting her.

It only took another minute for the woman to scream out asking for Ridleys permission to come. She didn’t give it until Alexia was also close and relished the feel and image of them coming simultaneously.

As Alexia came down, the warmth on her back disappeared as Ridley stood. It was then that she realised what she was doing. Ridley wasn’t kissing her. She was using her for the woman on the bed. Ridley didn’t want Alexia, she wanted her.

Alexia was ashamed of what she’d just done. She stood and felt the panic overwhelm her as she darted for the door. Ridley managed to catch her, holding her against the door with a worried expression.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m not just one of your girls you can control.” She had no idea where that came from but suddenly she remembered who she was. Strong, confident Alexia Putellas, Captain of Spain and Barcelona.

Ridley’s worry fizzled away as she realised Alexia was okay, just mad at her.

“I don’t think of you like that, Alexia.”

Again, that name from her mouth sounded like it dripped with honey.

“This,” she gestured to where she’d just been, “this makes me feel like that.”

Ridley looked like she’d been expectedly exposed and she leant down as if to kiss Alexia but stopped herself short. Alexia had been watching her closely, wishing she hadn’t stopped. She wanted her, not some random woman.

“I…I don't know how to give you anything else…” Ridley admitted with a pain in her eyes Alexia couldn’t understand.

“Ridley?” The voice came from the bed. Alexia’s heart sunk. She was so conflicted with no idea how or why.

“You need to go to her.”

The look on Ridley’s face said that she didn’t want to be anywhere except right there, with Alexia.

“I…” She leant forwards again, letting herself show just how much the footballer mesmerised her. Her fingertips brushed Alexia’s lips ever so softly and they parted under her touch. Ridley. Ridley. Ridley. It was like a chant in her head. All Ridley needed to do was give up that control, but they both knew it was more than that. “Yes, I do.”

Ridley composed herself and took a step back, the two watching each other for a little before Alexia turned and left.

Her back hit the wall outside as she took some deep breaths and shivered, trying to understand what happened. She needed to control herself. She had a game tomorrow.

Alexia took out her phone to order an Uber just as a message from Lucy appeared.

Lucy: All flights cancelled. She’s not coming. Do you need a lift home?

[fruitcoops]

If I Make It to the Morning

Prompt B3: "Surprise Visit" to continue PWHL Lions for Day 4 of @oknutzy-week-2024. I cannot get enough of them, thank you @lumosinlove for making such brilliant characters and letting us play with them like paper dolls.

They were just so goddamn cute.

Finn bit down on her spoon, holding it between her teeth with her arms crossed over her chest until she felt like she could breathe without shrieking. Leo had woken for a few seconds, only to close her eyes and sink back into sleep easier than Finn had ever seen. Logan, who used to jerk awake at the faintest click of the front door, snored softly as if the whole city wasn’t waking outside.

They were so cute, and it was such a goddamn problem.

Logan was…god, Logan just was. She was, in her way, and Finn had never been able to get over it, not even after a year without so much as a stray meme on Instagram even though she knew Logan opened every single one of her private stories. Finn hadn’t expected the surprise visit to her apartment—had thought Logan would be long gone, celebrating this insane dream come true with her new teammates. But Logan had come, Logan had stayed, Logan had allowed hugs she melted into and for Finn to take her to a restaurant where she laughed like nothing had changed.

Twenty-four hours passed. Logan got an Uber to the airport, Finn went to bed, and in the morning there was Leo. Bright and golden in overalls that made her look eight feet tall. A thin teal ribbon adorned her ponytail in a floppy bow that Finn wanted, desperately, to pull until it unraveled.

I’m Finn, Finn O’Hara. She had had to remind herself of her own last name. Come on in, your bedroom’s down the hall.

The books that had filled Leo’s duffel now sat snug on their IKEA bookshelves, tucked in with Finn’s like they were meant to be there. Her pots and pans were perfectly organized in the cabinets behind Finn’s head so she could reach them with ease. When Finn took a deep, fortifying breath, Leo’s magnolia room spray lingered in the air around her.

It was all so new and yet it felt so old, in the way an heirloom blanket was just the right softness and just the right length from years of comfort. The blanket Finn had bought to make this place feel a little more like home covered the expanse of Leo’s legs on one side of the couch and crept all the way up to Logan’s chest on the other. It was a fuzzy green thing; twenty dollars from Target, hardly something to be passed down. Finn wanted to hold it forever.

It was new and old and precious, and Finn could have absolutely none of it, so she bit her spoon and crossed her arms and waited for the coffeepot to finish hissing so she had an excuse to wake them up. Which happened to be the last thing she wanted.

It would be so convenient for Logan to miss her flight back to Minnesota. Maybe the storm had flooded a drain on their street. Maybe a tree had fallen somewhere between here and the hotel for the rest of her team. Maybe Finn could curl up in the armchair beside them and—whoops! Oh no! Overslept! Far too late to rush out, now, better if Logan just stayed a little longer in a place where she felt so right.

Leo’s Mardi Gras shirt fit her better than most of Finn’s clothes ever had.

These two would be the end of her.

A little milk, please. No sugar. Thanks, Harz.

Mixing the milk with the sugar first makes it taste better. Ouais, it’s…science, or something.

Finn poured hers black, gripping the ceramic sides tight enough to hurt. These feelings were too much. Her heart was too much. She watched them sleep on her couch like a creep and wished on every glow-in-the-dark star she had socked away her nightstand as a surprise for Leo that they could have this every day. It was a selfish wish. She ached for it.

“Rouge?”

God. “Yeah?” Finn answered, hoarse.

Logan mumbled something sleepy and low, stretching over the arm of the couch until her back cracked. “When time?”

“ ‘Bout eight.” Finn cleared her throat and took a sip of coffee. “I was going to get you up soon. Figured we’d drop you off at nine, nine-thirty.”

“Mmm.” Logan blinked at her a few times, slow and foggy with the morning, before squinting around the room. Her vibrant gaze hesitated on Leo. “Fell asleep during the show.”

“Me, too,” Finn said quietly. “Guess we were all tired.”

Logan hummed again. Leo slumbered on. The hall clock ticked down the seconds until Logan would return to her team, to Minnesota, to texts every other day.

None of them made any attempt to move.

[cherrycola27]

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to and full smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

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Chapter 17: Something Just Like This

Space. A place in this world to call your own. It's something you had always wanted—something you craved.

For a while, you had that here in your apartment with Hydra and Cerberus, and now Bradley. And you had loved the space you shared with them. Until she came along and contaminated it. Your home, the place that was supposed to be your safe space, had been desecrated.

Maybe that's why, when you woke up in the wee hours of the morning on Tuesday, with Bradley still fast asleep, you found yourself scrolling through real estate sights looking at houses. You hadn't lived in an actual house on earth, ever.

The thought of having one never crossed your mind. Buying a house meant staying somewhere. It was a physical representation of permanence. Something you never had before.

But now, with Bradley, your husband, you wanted a place for the two of you. A place to raise your future family because you were done running. You'd found your place in this world.

You scrolled and scrolled until you found the perfect house. It was a four bedroom colonial. Two stories, fenced in backyard, and a large front porch. It had a pool, which you weren't thrilled about, but you knew Bradley would love.

It was in a quiet neighborhood in Coronado. The house had hardwood floors throughout, and the listing said it had been newly remodeled, which was evident in the pictures.

The outside had beautiful landscaping, which complimented the lime-washed brick of the exterior. The only drawback was the price. For most, it would deter them, but for you, who'd spent over a thousand years saving and investing on earth, it was a drop in the bucket.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you filled in your information to set up a meeting to tour the house at ten in the morning. You didn't want to tell Bradley because it's not something the two of you had talked about, but it felt so right.

So, in the morning, you told him you had some errands to run and a surprise for him when you returned.

When you came back home around two that afternoon, you were giddy with excitement. "Love, pack a bag." You announced to Bradley as you came through the door.

"For?" He asked you with a raised eyebrow.

"For Virginia Beach. I figured we might as well take advantage of this time off that we have. I know you've been wanting to go home for a bit, and I'd love to see where you grew up. So, I made a few calls, worked out a few things, and I booked us two first class tickets. Our flight leaves at five. You announce proudly as you go to your bedroom and pull out some suitcases and start packing.

"Woah, babe, slow down. What about Hyrda and Cerberus?" Bradley asks as you toss clothes at him.

"Penny agreed to pet sit for us." You tell him.

"Well, what about a place to stay? I normally stay with my aunt, but I can't just spring this on her." Bradley asks you concerned.

"Bradley, it wounds me that you don't have faith in me." You mock him as you turn around to face him for the first time. "I got us a hotel. Everything is taken care of. Now start packing!" You scold him as you return to your suitcase.

Bradley exhales, knowing that it's fruitless to argue with you. So, he relents and starts packing alongside you.

An hour and a half later, the two of you are being dropped off at the airport. You decided to Uber rather than leave either of your vehicles there.

The moment you get your bags out, a young man greets both of you. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw. I can take your things for you, and then you can follow me to the lounge."

Bradley looks a little surprised but hands your luggage over. The two of you follow the steward to the first class lounge and take a seat before getting a drink.

Bradley looks around as he settles into the plush chair with a glass of expensive scotch. "This is something else." He remarks. "Have you never flown first class?" You ask him.

"Never. When I fly commercial, I always try to upgrade to business because I'm too big to fit comfortably in economy." He shrugs his shoulders and continues to look around.

"You know, I sometimes forget that you're like, wealthy from being around so long. But then you buy me fancy watches and first-class plane tickets and I remember." Bradley chuckles.

"Bradley, Love." You lean forward in your chair. "I'm not wealthy. We are wealthy. You're my husband. For better or worse, what's mine is yours." You remind him.

"If you say so—still—it's a lot to take in." He sighs as he checks the time on his aforementioned expensive watch that you bought him.

A little while later, the two of you are on the plane tucked into your first class suite with all the bells and whistles, complete with lie-flat seats and a door.

Bradley is engrossed in finding out what all the buttons do when a flight attendant comes by with two glasses of champagne as you wait for take off.

"We didn't order these." Bradley says, but you pat his shoulder and chuckle. "They are complimentary. Perks of first class." You smile at him before grabbing the glasses and toasting. Minutes later, a dinner menu appears, and Bradley marvels at all of the choices, unable to decide.

You lean back in your chair and watch him over the rim of your glass. He's like a kid in a candy store. It warms your heart that you are able to give him all of this. You thought maybe completing your quest for worthiness was your purpose in life, but looking at your husband, you realize loving him is your true purpose.

The roughly six hour flight goes smoothly. After dinner, your suite is converted to a bed so you and Bradley can get some sleep. However, the two of you decide that joining the mile-high club was a better idea. You came with Bradley's hand firmly covering your mouth and his chest pressed against your back with him whispering absolutely filthy praises in your ear about how you were such a good girl for him.

By the time the two of you made it to your hotel late that evening, you were both thoroughly exhausted. You took a quick shower together before curling up to get some much needed sleep before meeting his family tomorrow.

....................

You woke up the next day extremely nervous.

Today, you would meet Carole's sister, Bradley's Aunt Marsha, her husband Tom, and their three children.

While the two of you were getting dressed, Bradley could sense that you were worried. The entire drive there in your rental car, he assured you that they would love you, and everything would be fine.

You felt nauseous as he pulled into their driveway. His aunt and uncle had a lovely home, and Bradley told you that they were great people, but this was all new to you.

You held his hand tightly as you climbed the couple of steps that led to the front door. Bradley rang the doorbell, and the two of you patiently waited for someone to answer. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze just before the door opened, and a lovely middle-aged woman with short blonde hair opened the door.

"Oh my goodness! Bradley! What are you doing here?!" The woman, who you knew had to be his aunt because she looked just like Carole, exclaimed as she pulled him in for a hug before cupping his face. She hadn't noticed you yet.

"Hey, Aunt Marsha! I had a few days off, so I thought I would fly out here and surprise you. I also wanted to introduce you to someone." Bradley said as you pulled you closer to him. "Y/N, this is my Aunt Marsha. Aunt Marsha, this is Y/N, my wife." Bradley smiled.

Bradley's aunt stood there silently for a moment before a wide grin spread across her face. You turned her head over her shoulder and called into her home. "Tom, Conner, Alyssa, Maddie, meet me in the living room. Bradley is here, and he brought his wife!"

Marsha ushers the two of you inside and directs you to her living room, where you sit down on the sofa.

"Marsha, what are you going on about?" And older gentleman, whom you assume is her husband, comes into room holding a cup of coffee before stopping in his tracks when he spies you and Bradley sitting on couch. You aren't sure what to do, so you shyly wave at him. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can say anything, Bradley's cousin burst into the room. "Mom, what do you mean Bradley brought his—" a tall boy who has blonde curls similar to Bradley's stops short when he sees the two of you. "—Wife." He finishes in a choked tone. The two girls stand there silently, each mirroring their father's shocked expression with wide eyes and mouthed slightly agape.

Marsha stands up and scolds her husband and children. "Don't just stand there, introduce yourselves!"

All at once, the four of them move toward you. You and Bradley both stand up, and you shake hands with his Uncle Tom and his cousins Conner, Alyssa, and Maddie. You a sit back down, and there is an awkward silence in the room.

"Well, Y/N, tell us about yourself, honey." Bradley's aunt breaks the silence as she brings in cups of coffee for all of you. You take the mug and take a deep breath.

"Well, I'm a pilot like Bradley is, I'm originally from North Carolina. I'm thrity-one. I'm Greek. I have a dog and a cat, my rank is Commander, I graduated from the Naval Academy, and my parents passed away when I was nineteen. Oh, and my call sign is Hades." You say, telling them what you'd practiced on the drive over here.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry to hear about your folks." Marsha says. "It's fine, Mrs. Edwards." You shrug your shoulders. Bradley's aunt shakes her head.

"Mrs. Edwards is my mother in law. I'm Marsha or Aunt Marsha, whichever you prefer. We are family now." She smiles at you coming to sit by you on the couch and resting her hands over yours.

"Aren't you just the most beautiful woman. If there's one thing those Bradshaw boys can do, it's pick a beautiful wife. My goodness Bradley, she is gorgeous." Marsha compliments you. "Thank you." You smile back at her. "And she went to the Academy and is a Commander. That means she outrank you, doesn't it?" Marsha asks him.

"She sure does." Bradley chuckles. "Beautiful and smart. No wonder you couldn't stop talking about her when you came out to Maddie's graduation!" Marsha laughs, and Bradley blushes. You turn to him a quirk an eyebrow.

"Oh, honey, you should have heard him. He wouldn't stop talking about you!" Aunt Marsha says. "So, tell me the story, how did you two meet and all that jazz?" She asks you.

"Bradley was assigned to be my wingman, and we became friends and found out by accident that we were neighbors. We kind of danced around the fact that we liked each other for a while until Bradley asked me out on a date on my birthday. We went out the next day. Dinner and the boardwalk amusement park. He won me a stuffed shark!" You cheer as you tell them.

"Then Bradley got hurt, and I convinced him to move in with me, and last week, he proposed, and we eloped on the beach." You say, leaving out some of the more supernatural details before showing her your ring.

"This was your mother's ring, wasn't it?" Marsha asks with a few tears in her eyes. "Yes, yes, it was." Bradley says to her.

"She and Nick would have loved you." Marsha smiles at you. "You know, I never met two people who were more perfect for each other than my sister and Goose. You know he proposed after four dates. I guess when you know you know. I know Carole never loved anyone else after him. I hope they found each other in the afterlife and are happy together." Marsha sighs.

"They are." You sigh, and she looks at you confused. "I mean—I'm sure they are. Bradley has told me so much about them." You recover quickly. Marsha sighs before getting up to take your coffee cups. You offer to help her and follow her dutifully into the kitchen. You set the mugs down on the counter and turn to ask Marsha if she'd like help washing them.

But as you turn, your elbow catches the handle of one, and it crashes to the floor, shattering into a million pieces. "Oh no! I'm so sorry! Let me clean it up!" You drop to your knees to grab the broken fragments of ceramic. A sharp piece catches your index finger and you wince, drawing back at the pain.

You bring your finger up to examine yourself and notice the fresh, crimson blood leaking out of the cut. Your eyes go wide with shock. This isn't supposed to happen.

"Are you okay, dear? Here, let me get the broom." Marsha says as she scoops you to your feet and sweeps up the mess. "I'm so sorry." You say to her again.

"Oh, honey, don't you worry. There's a hundred more where that came from. Do you need a bandage? Come over to the sink and grab a stool, I'll clean you up." She says.

"I'm fine." You assure her as you wash the blood from your hands.

Hours later, you and Bradley's family, well, your family now, are gathered around the dining room tabled eating. The cut and dropped mug from earlier long forgotten.

The atmosphere is warm and welcoming and it's nice to sit down and have a family dinner where everyone wants you around.

It's nice to have a real family.

That night, when the two of you leave, Marsha and Tom insist that they have enough room for the two of you to sleep over, but Bradley tells them you already have a hotel room. His aunt makes you promise to come over again before you leave so she can show you some photo albums of Bradley through the years. When you return the next day, you spend hours flipping through them with her. Bradley blushes every time Marsha shows you one that he deems embarrassing, but you love every minute of it.

The two of you spend the next few days exploring. The day before you're set to leave, Bradley takes you to the graveyard where his parents are buried.

As you drive into the cemetery in your rented car, you hold tight to Bradley's hand. Afraid of what might happen if you don't.

He drives up a hill and stops at the top, pulling the car over to the shoulder and shutting off the engine. You both unbuckle, but you reach for his arm before exiting. "Bradley, wait," you say, catching him by the elbow.

"What's wrong, Angel?" He asks you with a soft expression. "I just—I just need to do something before we go out there. C'mere." You say to him as you pull him closer.

You lean over the console of the rental car and thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of Bradley's neck before pressing your foreheads together. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths hoping that your idea works.

You break apart and look down, and a smile graces your features as you see what you were hoping to see.

"What was that about?" Bradley questions you. "I was seeing if we were tethered." You tell him. He cocks an eyebrow, still unsure.

"Graveyards and one of the places that I can easily travel back to the Underworld. When I'm in my true goddess form, I can see the portals inside them. But when I'm in my mortal form, I can't. If I would accidentally pass through one, I don't know if I would be strong enough to make it back. But if I'm tethered to you, I have something connecting me here to the mortal world. It keeps me safe." You explain to him.

"How do you know we are tethered?" Bradley asks. "Look at your ring. You should be able to see it." Bradley looks down, and there's a gold string running between the two of you. "Holy shit." He breathes out. "How—how is that possible? How can I see this?"

"Because you're the King of the Underworld. And as much as I never thought they existed, Bradley, you're my soulmate. Only soulmates can be tethered. It's how they find each other in the afterlife." You explain to him.

"But, but I thought you said we couldn't be soulmates. That our marriage could never be real?" Bradley shakes his head.

"Ancient laws are tricky. But I think you made it real, Bradley." You say as the pieces fall into place in your mind. "How?" He retorts.

"Because you made me an alter the first time we made love. You said you would worship at my hips, worship me. You made me an alter, and so when we got married—"

"We married at an alter of the Gods, an alter for you." He finishes. "Exactly." You smile. "So what does that mean, Angel?" Bradley presses further. "It means they can't take you from me. Gods can't tear apart soulmates. Looks like you're stuck with me." You chuckle.

Bradley smiles and kisses you before stepping out of the vehicle and coming to open your door. You slip your hand in his as the two of you walk to the headstone that marks his parent's resting place.

The two of you walk up, and Bradley introduces you as if they were actually standing in front of you. He starts talking about you to them, and you can't fight the tears that slip down your cheek at his one-sided conversation.

It's moving to watch him talk about your love and your marriage to his parents. He does it in such an enthusiastic manner that it makes your heart swell. Bradley wraps an arm around you and pulls you close after a few minutes and the two of you bask in the silence.

"I've met them." You say after a few long minutes. "What?" Bradley whispers as he looks down at you.

"I've met them. In the Underworld. The day your mother passed. I was in the Underworld trying to figure out a way to stay. She walked into Paradise asking about "her Goose." I thought she was talking about a pet until she explained that Goose was he husband's call sign. I got to see them reunite. It was— beautiful." You say to him.

"So they really are together. You meant it when you said that at Aunt Marsha's house?" Bradley tears up.

"They are together and happy and still in love. I'm sure you've heard this before, but you really do look so much like your father." You say as you cup his cheek. Your thumb brushes away some of his tears.

"I'm sorry I never told you before." You apologize. "It's okay. I understand why you didn't." Bradley says as he places his hand over yours. "I'm also sorry that I can't take you there to see them. If I was stronger—if I had my full powers—I could." You sigh, angry at yourself.

"It's okay, Angel. I know you could if you would." He whispers before kissing your forehead and pulling you in for a hug. The two of you stand there for a moment before you ask Bradley the question that's been on your mind. "Bradley, where do you want to be buried?"

He pulls back and thinks for a moment. "I never really thought about it. I always figured I'd either burn in, and there wouldn't be anything left of me or that I'd die alone and get boxed up and put in some military graveyard. But I think— I think I'd like to be buried here, with my parents. I'd like to have this view forever." He says as the two of you watch the hues of red and orange paint the evening sky.

"I think I can make sure that happens. Right here is going to be the perfect spot to spend eternity with you." You say. Bradley shakes his head. He doesn't say it, but he knows that he's going to die before you. But you've already promised him that you won't let him go without you. He just hopes you're both old and have lived a full life with that happens.

The two of you say goodbye to Goose and Carole with a promise to visit again soon before leaving.

Your flight home the next day is uneventful.

It's mid afternoon by the time you make it back. The two of you Uber back to your apartment before going to pick up Cerby and Hydra from Mav and Penny. You insist on driving to go get them. Bradley makes a fuss about it but ultimately gives in and hands you your keys.

"Angel, this isn't the way to Mav and Penny's." Bradley remarks as you make a turn. "I know." You hum back. You drive for a few more minutes before you pull into your final destination.

"Honey, who's house is this?" Bradley asks you as you pull in the driveway. "It's for sale. Let's go take a look." You say before hoping out of the car and bounding up the steps to the front door.

"Angel—baby—Hades, wait! We can't just go in a house that's for sale. We don't know if someone might be here!" Bradley scolds you as he follows you up the steps.

"No one is home, and we can go in if we have the key." You reply as you hold up the shiny piece of metal before unlocking the door. "How did you get that?" Bradley interrogates you as you step inside. "I have my ways." You laugh. "C'mon, Bradley, look around with me. Don't be such a kill joy." You tease him as you begin to flit throughout the space.

The bay windows along the back wall let in tons of natural like, and the floor plan is open concept with the kitchen, living room, and dining room flowing into one another. Gorgeous amber colored hardwoods run throughout the house and there is a fireplace along one wall.

The kitchen has beautiful light grey cabinets with white counter tops, and all the appliances are stainless steel. Bradley follows you up the stairs as he takes in all of the bedrooms before you lead him downstairs to the back patio and outdoor kitchen and the pool.

"Isn't this place amazing, Love?" You say to him with starry eyes.

"It's great, but—"He says hesitantly. "But what?" You ask him as you wrap your arms around his middle. "This is an expensive neighborhood and I know that you have money—"

"We have money." You correct him.

"We have money." He sighs. "But I don't want to spend so much of it. You earned that, and it's not fair."

You chuckle. "Bradley, I can't take it with me. And I've never had a reason to have a house until now. I mean, think about it. The yard would be perfect for Cerby and later on some kids. I mean, this would be the perfect home to raise our family in. You could teach them to swim in that pool while I make snacks in the outdoor kitchen. We could have our friends over. Heck, your aunt and uncle and cousins could come visit us. This place would be the perfect home for us!" You try to reason with him.

"I guess you're right. A place like this would be perfect for us to have a family. I guess we could talk to a realtor." Bradley laughs as the thought of you standing in the kitchen round and pregnant with his child while a toddler is running around the back yard with him creeps into his mind.

"We don't have to talk to a realtor, Bradley." You tell him. "I'm pretty sure we do, honey." Bradley chuckles.

"I'm pretty sure we don't. When we pulled up, you asked me whose house this was. Well, it's our house, Bradley. Welcome home." You say as you take a step back and dangle a key in front of him.

"You—you bought us a house? When? How?" He stammers, taking in your words. "The morning we left for Virginia. You'd be amazed what you can get done for the right amount of money.

"So you, you own this?" Bradley sweeps his hand around.

"We own this." You smile.

Bradley is silent for a moment before he picks you up and spins you around and carries you out the front door and onto the porch.

"Bradley? What are you doing?" You laugh. "I'm supposed to carry you across the threshold. It's tradition." He says with a matter of fact tone before doing just that. You break out into a fit of giggles as he sets you down and starts going through your home in earnest.

.................

Two weeks later, the two of you are all moved in. Your furniture fills the room, your photos and decor fill the walls and shelves. Your dishes sit in the cabinets, and Hydra and Cerberus have settled in nicely.

You've just come out of your huge new shower and are doing your nighttime routine when you notice a bruise from when you hit the corner of the kitchen island when making dinner, but you shake it off. As you apply some lotion, you notice the small scar on your hand from the mug you broke in Virginia.

When you go to inspect it further, you suddenly realize just how tired you are as you let out a yawn. You don't dwell on it because Bradley is calling you to come to bed, and the idea of being wrapped up in his big strong arms is the only thing you can be bothered to think of right now.

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[jo-harrington]

so teeth? really?

Anon...yeah teeth? I'm weird, I'm here for the weirdos.

I've decided recently that I'm going to be a certain actor who shall only be named in the tags arch nemesis. If there's no one out there talking about his false teeth and his stained nails and his disgusting capitalist tendencies, it means I'm dead.

So in honor of a certain someone who'll only be named in the tags 30th birthday, please enjoy the sequel to this weird RPF.

Pairing: Disgusting 30-year old capitalist B-lister who's lucking out on his career x CorporateBadass!Fem!Reader

TW: RPF, Smut, jealousy, a little angst, a little degradation, and he's gross

Tagging @courtingchaos @deathbecomesthem @dr-aculaaa and @tomtomslongdong @bettyfrommars because you liked my games last time.

18+ WEIRDOS ENJOY! NORMIES STAY OUT.

It came in an email.

It always did.

Forwarded from your work email to your personal email, then forwarded onto his with several question marks. No phone numbers, no WhatsApp. An occasional GChat if you had trouble compromising over different time zones. But generally, your interactions were limited to a familiar face in an unfamiliar place; not casual conversation during normal, every day life.

You joked once, in an Uber on the way to the airport as you were fixing your disheveled clothes after a quickie before check-out, that you might as well sync your google calendars and that…seemed pretty appealing to him, if only someone else didn’t handle his calendar for him.

“Must be nice,” you joked. “Big important star with an assistant.”

“It’s one of my manager’s assistant,” he argued. “And you have an assistant too.”

“It’s an admin for the department. And they only book the travel. They don’t manage individual calendars. Sorry I’m a peasant dragging my cadaver up the corporate ladder.”

Regardless, he woke up to your email one morning—some remnant of your personality from a former life—at the top of his inbox with the word “London???” above an itinerary for two weeks of franchise meetings and property tours around the city he called home.

His city. No coincidences, no “accidental” run-ins at LAX or JFK that the two of you bent in your favor. You were coming for to him. During a week that he otherwise had no plans.

He acted on impulse. Perhaps a little desperately. Especially considering how little he knew you.

“If you want, you can just stay here. I have plenty of room. You’ll have your space. Pretend it’s a VRBO for the week.”

Realization hit him once he hit send. Dread.

Invite you to stay at his house, a house that he was just settling in to being a home. Where all of his things were, where he had pictures of family and friends.

His house.

Where he was someone and not no one.

He hoped that you would realize the impropriety—as improper as it could be after he’d stuck his cock in you more times than he could count at this point—and be the more level-headed of the two of you, as you usually were, and decline the offer.

It took 48 hours for you to respond. 

He thought that meant he was in the clear.

Until your reply blipped in his inbox between emails containing sides for self tapes and negotiations for his next potential public appearance.

“Great, thanks. I won’t take up too much space. I’ll barely be there.”

Followed by the airplane emoji and the sleep emoji.

He got irrationally angry for a moment.

How could you do this? How could you cross this boundary? Partial anonymity…that’s what you both agreed on and here you were…suddenly reneging on that agreement. 

Invading his space.

Only you weren’t invading, he invited you in.

Invited you to know Joe a little more than you knew Joseph.

And he could know you too. 

He missed getting to know people; he chose not to know people. He knew enough people.

Now he’d get the chance to get to know you.

You’d be here in a week.

And suddenly you were.

Not an email away. Just there.

You sent him a WhatsApp from the car—a necessity now that you’d be with him for a prolonged time—double checking his street. Then suddenly you were ringing the bell.

He went over the mental to-do list that he’d made ahead of your arrival—schedule planned so he’d be available if you wanted or needed him anything, the cleaning service came through, groceries were delivered, and he’d even got flowers for your room…just a nice little thing he thought of—and then he opened the door.

It had been awkward, the initial greeting.

It wasn’t like your typical hotel room rendezvous. It wasn’t straight to business. You both just stood there staring.

“Consider me a vampire,” you joked, slightly jet lagged and weary since you had gone to meetings straight away after you’d landed. “I need to be invited to come in.”

“Of course,” he stepped to the side to let you in. “Make yourself at home.”

You let him carry your suitcase and shoulder your backpack as he led you straight to the guest room. Then you touched his cheek fondly, thanked him…and promptly shut the door in his face so you could sleep.

Well…he at least thought he was going to get something more than that.

But he didn’t get much more than that. For almost an entire week.

At first it was fine. You were busy, and so was he.

He made (ordered) breakfast for the two of you for the first morning. You grabbed tea and a biscuit (“when in Rome…yes I know…but this was part of the Roman Empire so…No I thought it was funny Joseph ok see you later then”) and ordered an Uber to make it to your first walkthrough of the day. He had a copy of your schedule in his email, made sure to run his errands, make his appointments, and hang out with friends while you were busy so he could be there when it was time for you to return at the end of the day. Only to get another peck on the cheek and be thoroughly ignored as you trudged off to bed.

He felt a little bad. He knew those days where they just never seemed to end; come back to wherever he’d been put up only to check his phone and pass out. 

Then he’d hear you around midnight, waking up from a dead sleep and tapping away at your keyboard. Sending communication to your boss or your team or whoever else back home. He didn’t know if you knew he was awake, or if you would venture out of the guest room to find him or get a drink…something. But you never did. Didn’t roam around, didn’t even chat him on WhatsApp; you just clicked away until the clicking stopped and you passed out again.

That’s when he got annoyed.

Because he’d been patient enough; he waited. Waited for something for those first few days. Some kind of sign that you were here with him. He’d sit and watch the telly, pick something from netflix or YouTube, read a book waiting for you to say more than hello to him when he opened the door for you. Have a conversation with him. Something! Sure that wasn’t really how the two of you operated, but even when he still had a roommate and they lived a very separate schedule there was at least a “hey mate, how’d the day go” and it gnawed at his insides that you couldn’t even be bothered.

Who were you? Just some no one, playing at possibly having an executive position one day. 

And who was he? He was Joseph Quinn. Eddie fucking Munson, as much as he loathed it. He had people screaming for him, screaming his name. You even screamed his name from time to time. 

Just not now.

Was he even going to get to fuck you at the end of this torture? Probably not. You’d be off to Heathrow to catch your flight back home with a simple peck on the cheek and a pat on the head.

“Good boy Joseph, letting me stay in your guest room, thank you for the red carpet treatment.”

So after three days of radio silence, he stopped playing such a gracious host. You insisted that you weren’t even there? He would act like you weren’t.

He stopped living his life around your schedule, left you a spare key so he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself and open the door for you. Got dinner with his friends, drinks with some people his manager wanted him to meet, all on his own time. 

He did exactly what did, he ignored you.

And that’s what got your attention, or so it seemed.

He saw you “in the wild” a bit more. You and your American lean against the bar at the pub he frequented, wine glass in hand as you chatted with someone in a suit; he decided he’d rather get a beer somewhere else that night. Came home late from a friend’s party on Friday to find you in the kitchen, with a sandwich, going over some contract. You waved at him, maybe a hello or to get him to join you, but he just walked away. Woke up late the next morning to find you actually sitting on his couch with coffee in one hand and phone in another. Your eyes brightened a little when you saw him.

“Morning! I have an appointment at 1, but…dinner?” You asked. “I’m getting so sick of cateri—“

“M’busy,” he cut you off. He didn’t like the way you just nodded, just pressed your lips together accepted it. The way his plans meant nothing. Still, you were out here. Instead of in your room…or just gone.

“Maybe tomorrow night?” He offered, a little more gently.

“Sounds good.” He smiled. “I’ll put it on my calendar.” And the smile went away again, and so did he.

You put him on your calendar like another business appointment; he shouldn’t have felt bad about it, it’s what you always did when you met up in one city or another…but he did. Because this wasn’t “make a run-in happen” this was a meal with the person whose house you were living in for two weeks.

He probably should have asked someone if he was overreacting—probably should have asked you to be honest—but who could he ask? His friends didn’t know about you; they gave him enough shit about his current situation as it was, let alone some American airport fling. Couldn’t exactly tell his manager, they’d have you in to sign an NDA or something; all of the times he planned his travel around “running into you,” he just said it was meeting up with a friend.

So let the feeling stew in his head all day. He came home late again Saturday night to avoid you, and stayed out the entire day Sunday, missing the time you’d made for him on your calendar. Good riddance.

Until he rolled in at 1am, well on his way back to sober after a night out, to find you sitting on his couch, some YouTube chef on the telly, Diet Coke in hand, and his takeaway box of leftovers from dinner the night before on the coffee table.

“That was mine,” he accused. No greeting, just fire as he walked over and looked at the remnants of his gnocchi carbonara.

“It was really tasty,” you nodded.

“I know, because it was mine.” He scoffed and crossed his arm over his chest. “You know if you were really hungry, there’s plenty of other food in the kitchen. Or you could’ve gotten a sausage roll or something. Ever heard of Uber Eats?”

“No I ate your pasta because you told me once that you don’t eat leftovers but you always felt bad that they’d just go in the garbage at the restaurant,” you explained calmly. A little too calmly. “Instead they’d just go in the garbage here. So I enjoyed your scraps, cold, like a peasant, oh King Joseph, most conceited and decadent of all. Because you forgot we had plans for dinner.”

“S’that what we had? Plans?”

“Yeah, I blocked off time for you and everything.”

“Talk about most conceited,” he grabbed the takeaway box and started walking towards the kitchen to dispose of it and this conversation, but you were hot on his heels.

“Excuse me what was that?”

“You heard me, conceited,” he threw the box in the bin and then turned back towards you. “Lemme pencil you in on my calendar, Joe. Dinner, Sunday, 8 o’clock does that work?” He mimed holding a notebook and jotting down the appointment. 

“Have you lost your mind? That’s what I need to do if I want ten minutes to myself, let alone a whole dinner. You know I didn’t even put sleep on my calendar for this trip?”

“Lemme not even say good morning because I have a call I need to get on Joe, thanks for the biscuits.”

“Did you miss the entire point of me being in London when I sent you my itinerary? Or did you think this was just me coming to fuck you for two weeks?”

“Maybe not the whole two weeks,” he sneered at you. “But even a how was your day would have been nicer than being treated like the hotel manager.”

“At least the hotel staff cleans shit up,” you scoffed at him. “You know I went out for drinks the other night, went to that pub you told me about, because we finally figured out a contract and I spilled wine on myself. Came back here to throw it in the wash only to find the machine full of dirty clothes. That was really fun to see your stained and faded tighty whiteys at the top of the load. Were you just waiting for the maid service to come back to start the wash for you? You’re so famous now that can’t even hit the damn button yourself?”

The next scathing remark stopped dead on his tongue at that, and then he felt the shame build up.

But only for a moment, because before he knew it, you were crossing the distance and smashing your mouth to his. It was a quick play for control as usual, neither of you caring that you’d just butt heads because the real winner would be whoever could succeed at your little game first; he was in such a mood, such a state, that he actually tried to put up a fight, wanting to get you to cry out for him like he’d been wanting all week. Wanting to be wanted, needed.

He pulled away to remove the bridge from his mouth, mindful of the complaint you’d made about kissing him last time you’d met up, and you did something unexpectedly delicious.

“You rich rat,” you growled at him as you tugged his shirt free of his waistband with one hand and started working his belt loose with the other. “You better be wearing clean underwear right now so help me god.”

And damn if he didn’t get hard just from your words alone. 

The aggressive snap of his belt hitting the tile floor also helped.

“They should be,” he grinned cheekily and pulled your sleep shirt over your head. “Agnetha did a load before you got here.”

“You’re pathetic.” You worked the buttons of his shirt as quickly as you could. “How much is this shirt? ’S it dry-clean only? Does she take your dry cleaning in too? Bring it back and make sure it’s folded nicely only for you to shove everything in the drawer anyway. Like the useless boy you are.”

Yeah that was doing it for him.

“She washes the sheets too.” He dropped to his knees before you now as you leant against the counter, fully intent on pleasing you right here in the kitchen. “Changed them right before you got here. Shouldn’t be any more questionable stains.”

“Useless,” you hissed at him but ran a hand softly through his curls as he kissed along your abdomen and peeled your leggings down your legs. “Utterly useless.”

The thing about you though was your self-restraint, your discipline. You didn’t like to lose; you’d deprive yourself of things to get some advantage over your adversaries—usually corporate adversaries—and come out on top. And you made that very well known in the bedroom too when this little game got started. You’d gotten him to cum easily the first time you slept together and then used him to chase your own pleasure, commanding his mouth and tongue here and fingers there. 

Just like you were doing now. No moans, just little hitches in your breathing as you steered his head and used the leg you’d thrown over his shoulder to bring him deeper into your center. 

When you got close to completion, you used the upper hand again to push him away and you both descended together. His trousers and pants shoved down to his knees with his shirt bunched up under his head so he wouldn’t be sore from smacking it against the tile when you sunk down onto him. And when he felt the delicious squeeze of your cunt, he couldn’t help himself from throwing his head back; good for you to have the foresight. 

He had the foresight too though. He knew your moves, they made him see the light of God, seductress that you were. You told him your secret once as you basked in the afterglow when you’d rendered him particularly speechless.

“Spell the word coconut.”

“C-o-c--“

“No, I spell the word coconut. As I’m on top. Read it in a magazine or something during my last layover.”

And he could feel it now, predict it. Feel the motion of your hips, around and around and up and down and squeeze.

He couldn’t tell just by looking at your face, he had to feel it; close his eyes and feel the tempestuous slide of you over him, bringing him higher.

Maybe he would win the game tonight?

He wasn’t one to lose either; he could be competitive just like you. In fact, he was excellent at manipulating a situation in his favor. School, money, life. And with you he’d won enough times to know it could be done. You’d made him feel so…meaningless over the past week—even if he’d misunderstood and overreacted—that a win would be even better than the pleasure itself.

You pried one of his hands off your hip where it was clinging for dear life and directed him to play with your clit so you didn’t have to. For a moment, he lifted his head and watched his own nicotine-stained nails and your prettily manicured ones mingle against the engorged and glistening junction of your sex, and where any other time it would have him groaning at the sight, he couldn’t help but notice how disgusting his hands looked in comparison to your own. For a moment the confidence faltered.

When had he last washed them? Maybe you were right, he was gross and pathetic…

But then you moaned, and from his point of view It looked like it even surprised you even. You stuttered in your pace and your eyes went a little wide. 

He felt all the doubt leave him. 

He would win tonight…

He took advantage, used his leverage, to turn the tables. To sit upright and guide you to take his spot; you couldn’t even protest before he pistoned into you, before his fingered took an unrelenting pace on your clit.

He could spell coconut too, and he did. He would tell you all about it after his victory. Boast over using your own tricks against you.

You watched him with unblinking eyes as your nails dug into his bicep and shoulder, as you bit your lip so hard he was sure you’d bite right through it, and you kept the little whine that emanated from your throat as soft as you possibly could. Still, he could hear it through the desperate, wet sounds of your fucking.

He closed his eyes and focused on the finish line, focused on keeping the tension of his mounting pleasure back as he could feel you grip tighter and begin to spasm around him. He needed to win, it would be glorious.

“Joe,” you moaned, and he thought it was over. But there, underneath the neediness, lay the condescension, the obvious upper hand. “Can you hurry up? I have a call at 7am”

He came, seconds before you did. Collapsed against you and spilled inside of you before you found your own release.

On his kitchen floor, spent, laughing together, basking in the ridiculous pleasure found in the presence of one another, another game came to an end.

And he might have lost, but in the end, did he really lose?

Happy Birthday asshole. I'm following you into 30 in 10 months with a vengeance.

No love lost, The better Jo(e) &lt;/3

[mabelstone]

Nympho

matt stone x reader

part five of provocateur <3

part four | masterlist

word count: 3.5k

CW: this is a fucking rollercoaster lol. warning: sex (but not too much sorry), mentions of nausea

***

I'd never seen anything like it. Even the airport in Dubai was something out of a movie, and that didn’t even come close to the beautiful city and the penthouse suite Trey had booked for us. I couldn’t even find the words, my mind struggling to keep up with what I was seeing. I’m sure I looked like a cartoon with wide, sparkling eyes with hearts shooting from them.

“Whadd’ya think?” He grinned from beside me, wheeling both of our suitcases to the walk-in wardrobe while I stared out the window, completely awestruck.

“It’s beautiful,” my assessment was beyond an understatement, the term not even coming close to the acclaim it deserved.

“And it’s all for you,” he announced, rolling up the cuffs on his dress shirt before popping open a bottle of champagne.

“Not for work?” I raised an eyebrow at him through a grin, striding across the sparkling marble tile to where he stood at the big, glossy, stone dining table.

“That? Oh, no. Work was just an excuse to get you here," he joked, pouring a glass for each of us.

“Well, that’s gotta be the worlds most expensive excuse ever," I started, cheersing glasses with him. "You know, you've already got me wrapped around your finger. I don't need anything fancy."

"I know," he smiled, slipping his big hand around my waist. "It is nice though, isn't it."

"This may be the best night of my life," I joked, though this was one of the most surreal moments for me. I'd never left the US in my whole 26 years of life.

“Oh, this is nothin'," he blew a raspberry through his lips, pulling my front into his by the small of my back. "You be a good girl, I'll give you so much more. This is just the beginning."

Holy fuckin' shit. This is a new side to Trey that is absolutely welcomed.

"But I am a good girl," I fluttered my eyelashes at him through a grin, letting out a squeal of surprise when he picked me up and wrapped my legs around his waist. We skulled the rest of our glasses before he was throwing my down onto the bed, attacking my neck and chest with hot kisses, while I giggled with my fingers tangled in his hair.

You can imagine how the rest went.

In the morning I woke to sun bleeding through the curtains, bathing the suite in a warm golden glow. Our limbs tangled in the soft cotton sheets, Trey's big arm wrapped around me as I feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. The epitome of serenity.

Half asleep, he turned his head to me, groggily opening his eyes.

"Good morning," his voice was thick with sleep, kissing my forehead as I glowed on the inside.

Matt POV

I woke with a splitting headache and some inconvenient warmth spread across my lower half.

A leg. A leg that belongs to some random chick I picked up from the Little Red Door, the same place Y/N and I had our first kiss. Fuck her. I scrubbed a hand over my face, trying to wipe any trace of her from my brain and instead use my few remaining braincells to plan a way to get this broad out of my bed. And out of my house, for that matter.

I can't even remember how I got here. The last thing I remember was doing shots with my boss after celebrating his divorce. The whole night was just so messy. All I know is that if I sit up too quick, I'm going to blow chunks all over my duvet and I don't want that. But... it would be the perfect way to get rid of the blonde mess beside me.

Then by some dumb strike of luck, she stirred awake, smudged eyeliner around her icy blue eyes like a cyborg panda hybrid blinking up at me. "Mmmm, good morning, Mr. Journalist," she groaned as she stretched, taking up too much of the bed for my liking.

"Hey... So, I've got work," I pushed through the nausea and climbed out of bed, stumbling around to pick up her clothes for her, tossing them at her feet. "I'm happy to call you an Uber?"

She paused for a moment, looking at me like I'd punched her in the face. "Wow," was all she said, shaking her head before peeling herself from the sheets, fully nude with no shame. "You're a total dick."

"I know," I sighed, though I felt no remorse. I was just happy she was so willing to leave. I've had a few run ins before where I've almost had to drag them out the door kicking and screaming.

"How's this for a headliner? 'Surprise! Douche bag journalist is a fuckwit.' Oh! Or, 'sleazy wannabe writer is really bad in bed'," She panted out while shimmying into her clothes, face red from anger, yet somehow, simultaneously paper pale from her hangover.

"You done?" I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. I didn't have my contacts in, I could barely even see her. For the best.

"Are you going to write about this?" She taunted, seeing herself to the door.

Why would I waste anybody's time writing about some random bimbo nobody knows? "Wouldn't dream of it," I smiled tightly, obviously very fake, making sure to lock the door she slammed behind her. She yelled something at me from the front, but I didn't hear, nor did I care to know what she had to say.

Instead I stripped all my sheets and threw them straight into the washing machine, then threw myself into a near boiling shower and scrubbed off any evidence of the night before. So. Much. Glitter. Maybe I picked her up later in the night after the Little Red Door?

I am never drinking again.

Y/N POV

Trey makes me feel like a giddy teenager every time I'm with him. He ordered us breakfast in bed and we made... whatever is between sex and making love. I feel like those terms are not synonymous. I may have nearly called him Matt, but quickly saved it with, "Ma- my God, Trey." He didn't seem to notice.

We quickly jumped in the shower and got ready for his corporate lunch - the whole reason I'm here. I don't really understand, but who am I to argue with a good thing?

He looked absolutely delicious, dark grey suit with a matching tie, a crisp white button up for contrast. I wore a similar coloured dress that was maybe a bit too booby for this event, but conservatively reached my knees, so surely it cancels out. I kept a sheer Burberry cardigan slung over my arm in case the venue was chilly - compliments of Trey.

"Beautiful," he grinned, shoving his keys and wallet into his pockets. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," I nodded with a wide smile, one that I couldn't seem to wipe from my face the whole time.

We got a ride to the venue in a Cadillac Escalade, and for some reason, that was the first time I wondered just how rich this dude was. I made small talk with his driver, while Trey was stuck into his phone the whole drive.

"You have arrived," the driver spoke with a thick Polish accent, pulling up out the front of a massive stone building with the biggest water fountain I'd ever seen.

"Thank you," I smiled at him, stepping out in awe. This place just can't be real.

Trey led me into the main hall where there were at least fifteen round tables draped in lace cloth, red napkins to offset the harsh white.

"Trey," a heavy set man approached us with his hand out, giving him a real firm handshake that screamed 'I'm important'.

"Mr. Todd," he nodded with a tight smile.

"And who might this lovely lady be? A daughter we didn't know about?" The tall man, Mr. Todd I presume, took one of my hands into his.

"Let's hope not," I joked, then soon realised that mightn't be appropriate given the scenario. "Y/N, lovely to meet you, Mr. Todd."

"Please, you pretty ones get to call me Jason," he corrected me, kissing my knuckles. "The pleasure is all mine."

We moved through the room as we greeted Trey's colleagues, all looking very important and expensive. The women were all presumed partners of the colleagues and looked at least 20 years older than me. And at least 20 times more glamourous. I'm sure I stood out like a sore thumb, and it really had me wondering how many people actually thought I was Trey's daughter.

After what felt like an eternity of me awkwardly hovering between Trey and his colleagues, we were finally seated. I was starting to feel a bit left out, like some background noise that's slightly inconvenient.

The food came fast, thankfully; perfectly cooked chicken drowning in some sauce I couldn't quite pronounce. I listened in on the chatter, the occasional wife speaking to me over the table. I think they could sense my unease.

"So, Trey," another man in an expensive looking pressed suit put his hand to his mouth, deciding mid bite was the perfect time to speak. Quite the etiquette. "How are the kids?"

I nearly choked on what was in my mouth. Trey turned bright red. He seemed to nearly choke too, sputtering as he was caught off guard.

"Oh, yeah!" The mans' partner spoke up, pointing to Trey with her fork and wide eyes. "I heard May just started first grade. Are you and Lillian on speaking terms again?"

I felt instantly nauseated, smothered by an uncomfortable heat that rushed from my head to my toes.

"Uh, yeah," he cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact with me. "They're all good." All?

"And your precious baby boy," she continued, swooning in her seat just to rub a bit more salt in the wound. "He's what, three months now? Do you see him much?"

"That's rude to ask," her husband clicked his tongue at her, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"That's not rude, honey!" She rolled her eyes, swatting his arm with her napkin. "You guys settled 50/50, didn't you, darling?"

"Yeah, I get 'em every weekend," Trey's voice was hushed as he admitted this, eyes boring into his untouched food.

I abruptly stood up, noisily pushing my chair out from under me. "Excuse me," I smiled as politely as I could, but I'm sure my face was as pale as snow and I was being anything but polite.

I headed straight for the exit, not sure what my game plan was. I don't speak any Arabic, but I'm sure I could find someone who speaks English. How hard could it be to signal for a cab?

The sick, hot feeling wouldn't leave, even as the most beautiful breeze embraced me. How could he lie to me?

"Y/N," Trey came rushing outside like a cliché movie scene. "I can explain." Uncanny how much this felt like a movie.

"I don't have kids, haven't got time for them," I reiterated what he'd told me many times.

"I thought it'd put you off," he sighed, reaching for my hand, but I dramatically jerked away from him.

"Put me off more than being lied to?" I scoffed incredulously, wondering how the fuck I ended up here. "The fact you lied is bad enough, but you've practically got a newborn! What the fuck?"

"I know, I'm sorry," he sighed again, running a hand through his sparse hair. "How can I make it up to you?"

"I want to go home." I crossed my arms over my chest, unable to look him in the eyes.

"Seriously?" He furrowed his brow, palms thrown up in front of him. "You're the textbook definition of a nymphomaniac, and you're upset that I have kids?"

"Let me go home." My tone was stern this time, trying to seem composed when really I was seconds off bursting into tears.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, calling his driver to collect me.

Next thing I knew, I was on a plane back home, red faced and angry, no doubt annoying everyone around me with my constant sniffling. Trey booked me an economy flight back home, and left me with enough money to get absolutely wasted on the plane. So I did without a second thought, polishing off two bottles of wine in no time. I would've had more if the air hostess didn't cut me off. I'm not sure the wine was helping my situation, but it didn't matter. I watched Pretty Woman, then the Notebook, then Forrest Gump, then cried my eyes out, and eventually fell asleep.

"...and on behalf of the crew bringing you to beautiful Manhattan, it is my pleasure to say, welcome home." I woke up to the announcement that we'd arrived, and groggily rested my head against the cold window as I watched the plane roll onto the tarmac.

Fuck, Trey drove me here.

I could get an Uber.

Or...

"Hello?" Matt answered groggily, sounding both confused and as if he'd just woken from a coma.

"It's 6pm, why were you sleeping?"

"Big night," he groaned, sounding inconvenienced. "What do you want?"

"Can you please... pick me up?" I suddenly felt very self conscious. The worst he could say is no, right?

"From Dubai?" He chuckled, and I could hear some shuffling from his line.

"No... JFK Airport." Here it comes, I thought. Laugh at me. Tell me 'I told you so' like the dick you are. Or, 'I last longer in bed than you did on that trip.'

"Oh," he sounded surprised. A big pause. "I'll be there in 40." Then the line went dead.

While I waited (and wallowed in self pity) I dawdled around the stores, opting to buy Matt a blueberry danish as my pathetic version of a thank you. I know how much he loves them.

He rocked up pretty much exactly 40 minutes later, handsome as ever in his stupid Mercedes. He reached over the passenger to open my door for me, immediately looking confused.

"All you have is a little paper bag," he noted, brows furrowed as he scanned me. "What, your bags get held up at customs? Is that why you're back? Trafficking drugs or something?"

"No, dick," I smiled for the first time in 15 hours, thrusting the danish into his hands. "My stuff is still in Dubai," I mumbled self consciously, throwing myself into the heated leather seat.

"So... where's Daddy Warbucks?" He grinned that stupid cocky grin that always struggled to read the room.

I pursed my lips, tilting my head to him, puffy, watery eyes on full display now.

"Oh... shit, I'm sorry, kid," he frowned, awkwardly patting my shoulder. "What happened?"

"He lied to me a bunch," I laughed dryly, running a hand over my face. "You were right. Total douche. Has, I don't even know how many kids. Made me look stupid in front of all these rich people."

"Is that why you're dressed like the First Lady?"

I tried to be angry but I couldn't, ugly laughing at his stupid (but accurate) joke.

"Mhm. He called me a nympho and everything," I rolled my eyes, that hadn't stopped stinging once. "Like, seriously, what kind of man would complain about that?"

"Yeah, seriously," he shook his head in disagreement. "It's literally my favourite thing about you."

"Can we just go home?" I rubbed my eyes. I then realised what I'd said, and that home wasn't the same place for us both. "Ah, sorry, my home."

"Aw, you wanna come home with me!" He joked, grabbing my knee. For a split second, I swear a fire ignited inside of me at his touch. "I'll take better care of you than Daddy Warbucks did, Annie."

"Oh my God, I forgot that you fucked Annie!" I laughed again, covering my mouth with my hands at his accidental double entendre.

"Come on, dude, you know I meant Annie the orphan," he sighed, face bright red as he pulled onto the street. "Don't ruin a nice thing."

When we got back to his, he ordered Chinese takeout and we sat on his sheet-less bed with the tv turned off. He was more interested in my failed trip.

"What, in front of everyone?" He paused in shock, chopsticks frozen mid air, just inches from his mouth.

"Yup," I sighed, glad that his reaction made me feel reassured. "Ah, well. I don't want to be a step mother."

"Yeah, fuck that," he shook his head taking a big swig of his beer. "And fuck that dude. Fuckin' asshole."

"Well, it lead me right to you," I grinned, noting the way his cheeks pinkened, despite his little murmured, idiot.

"Wanna get drunk?" He suggested, and how could I say no? Especially when I knew where it would land me - right underneath him.

We threw back shots, seeing who could keep a straighter face. I lost, miserably. Then we somehow ended up on the couch with my legs in his lap. And then as our speech began to slur and slow completely, my brain struggled to keep up with my mouth, and before I knew it, I was confessing, "this is like, your fault, dude."

"What's my fault?" He raised his eyebrows, toying with the hem of his shirt I was wearing.

"You always had me confused when we'd hook up," I blabbered on, not even processing what I was saying. "If things were more set in stone, I wouldn't have went out with Trey. Hah... set in stone. Get it?" I giggled, missing the way his expression hardened.

"What do you mean set in stone?"

"I dunno," I shrugged, lazily letting my head roll over the armrest of the couch. "I liked you. More than just a fuck."

"You cut things off with me?" He spoke pointedly, his arms now folded. "That's a bit unfair to say."

"What?" I picked my head up to face him, the room spinning around me. "I literally asked you if you'd be with me and you went, 'uh- um- uhh-' like a moron."

"Yeah, after you started seeing someone else." He was combative now. Awesome. Just shut the fuck up, girl. This won't end well.

"Yeah, but you didn't know that."

"I could see the Tinder notifications on your phone," he rolled his eyes, pushing my legs off him gently. "You're not the most discrete person."

"Whatever, I don't wanna talk about this."

"You brought it up!" He groaned emphatically, scrubbing a hand over his stubble. "If you don't wanna talk about this, why fucking say anything?"

"Jeez, can you relax," now it was my turn to harden my expression. "Stop acting like you care. You just wanted sex. Like everyone else."

"Why do you ruin everything?" He scoffed, climbing off the couch with a huff. "Maybe if you started respecting yourself, you'd realise you have a lot more going for you than your body."

I froze then. "What, you had a little crush on me?"

"Wasn't little," he shook his head, pouring himself another hefty shot. "And see? You undermine everything. That's why we wouldn't work. That's why I never set anything in stone, as you put it."

"Matt, I didn't know," I followed him to the kitchen, instantly sober. "I'm sorry, I thought you weren't interested. Like that."

He didn't speak, just stared right through me.

Wordlessly, I stepped forward and took his face in my hands, pulling him close enough that I could see each pore, each beautiful freckle, each little sign of his ageing that was almost invisible to the naked eye.

I kissed him differently than I'd grown accustomed to. No, this was like our first kiss at the Little Red Door. I was gentle, ghostlike over his lips, breathing him in. He took a moment, but then he grabbed my face back, kissing me with all the force of a single feather. He was warm, and he smelt good, and God I hate to admit it, but I actually missed him.

We moved synchronously, gentle and tender, our feet sweeping us away into his bedroom. But this time, I had the suspicion that it wouldn't be our regular type of sex.

And I was right.

Lips connected the whole time, we stripped off our clothes, tenderly touching one another as if we were memorising every shape and curve. He slipped himself inside of me with ease, both of us exhaling sharply through our noses.

We moved slowly together, my arms strewn over his shoulders as he skilfully rolled his hips against mine, warm fingers digging into the soft parts of my body. We exchanged breaths and pants, only disconnecting our lips to deliver praise. There was passion without all the aggression, sweat and cursing that came with it. Just pure desire.

I think we definitely still like each other.

Was this love making?

maybe one more chapter?

[enhatxtfanfics]

Surprise Visit

Pairing -Soobin x y/n

Genre - Fluff

"I really miss you princess."

"I miss you too baby."

"I still can't believe you have kept up with me for 3 years."

"I can't believe it either, you are always gone."

"I know, I'm still sorry that I can't be there for our anniversary this year."

You and Soobin have been dating for a while now and your 3 year anniversary was coming up. Unfortunately, Soobin was on tour and would still be during your anniversary. Knowing this made you both sad but you came up with a plan to surprise him.

"It's alright. I have a gift I want to send to you so you don't feel bad about the anniversary." You said

"What is it?"

"I can't tell you. I do, however, need to know where you'll be staying. I want the gift to be there the day of our anniversary."

He told you where he would be staying and told you goodbye before blowing a kiss at you through the phone. You immediately went into your messages and began a group chat with all the boys, except Soobin, and explained everything about how you wanted to surprise him and flights and hotel fees. The boys said they would help with the hotel fees while you booked the flight ticket. The plan was settled and you went to sleep, excited to see Soobin a few short hours from now.

The next morning, you woke up and packed a small suitcase. Ready to leave, you called an Uber and headed off to the airport. While on the way to board your flight, you texted the boys and let them know that you were on the way.

You landed a few short hours later in Korea. Beomgyu was there ready to pick you up and bring you to the hotel. The other boys would try to keep Soobin in his room until you are settled inside your own room. It wouldn't be hard though because of how tired he was from practicing the last few days.

Once you arrived at the hotel, Beomgyu called Yeonjun to tell him the the both of you were heading up right now. After Yeonjun gave you the green light that it was okay, you both went to the floor with the rest of the boys. Beomgyu gave you your room key and left so you could get settled in. After settling in, you texted the boys and told them that you were calling Soobin and coming over. You called Soobin.

"Y/N!"

"SOOBIN!"

"Isn't it late where you are? You should be sleeping."

"I wanted to make sure that the package arrived. Did you get it?"

Right after you said that, Soobin heard a knock on his door.

"I didn't get it yet but it probably just got here. I'll call you back once I open it okay?"

"Alright. I love you."

"I love you too."

Soobin ended the call and walked to the door. He opened it and his entire jaw dropped to the floor.

"Y/N?!"

You smiled and waved.

"Hiiiiii."

Soobin picked you up and spun you around, only setting you down to kiss you.

"How did you get here?"

"I booked a flight the night I told you I would send you a package for our anniversary."

"You being here is better than any present ever."

"I love you bunny."

[thatdude01181]

Surprise- JO

A/n: thank you Superflash2255 for this request.hope it turned out as good as you expected

Y/n, a singer in a metal band was on tour with his band, First hall rejects, a rapidly growing band who started out in a small town in Florida.

((Band name I came up with in highschool))

Y/n had began dating Jenna at the end of 2021, and as filming began for Wednesday season 1, Y/n was in the middle of a year long world wide tour. His band was in Ukraine just finishing up his last concert when he got a text on his phone from Nicole, Jenna's mom.

"She's stressed and need someone" he read

"I'll book a flight there" he sent back. Calling his manager he made plans for the band to take a few weeks off so he could go to Jenna and spend time with her.

Landing at Brashov airport, he was met by Tim Burton and a SUV. He called him before he got on the flight and asked for him to pick him up and not let Jenna know.

Once they got to the lot where set was, tim escorted Y/n to Jenna's trailer and made sure she wasn't there before he let him in. Y/n hid and waited. About 30 minutes later the door to Jenna's trailer opened and in she walked looking tired and stressed. Opening the restroom door, she was met with the sight of her boyfriend Y/n.

Taking a moment to get her thoughts in order she jumped into his arms and kissed him, holding onto him as tight as she could, fearing that if she let him go, he would disappear. She then forced him onto the couch, and straddled him, starting to kiss his neck.

"Damn babe, did you miss me that much?" He said as she pulled back to look at him

She slowly nodded.

"I've been so stressed lately" she replied as she leaned in and kissed him again. She reached down and began undoing his belt as they heard a knock.

"Dammit" she said as she got up and answered the door.

"Jenna I'm so sorry, I know your tired but Tim wants you back on set to refill a scene." Said the producer who was very polite.

Jenna sighs and looks back into her trailer at Y/n.

"Okay I'm coming" she said as the procedure left. "But youre coming with me"

"Yes ma'am" Y/n said in his slight southern accent causing Jenna to blush and giggle .

Following Jenna on set, he stood by Tim watching her act. It was a scene that involved Jenna and Hunter Doohan, Tyler's actor. He saw that they had great chemistry, but felt comfort in the fact that Jenna was loyal and the fact that Hunter was gay and had a had a husband.

((A/n: actual fact,if you didn't know))

After filming wrapped for the day, Jenna had gotten an Uber for her and Y/n to take back to the hotel that she and the other cast and crew of Wednesday were staying at.

Once in the room, she pushes him back into the bed and straddles him yet again, kissing him with a fiery passion. The next morning Jenna woke to Y/n watching her.

"Hi" she said

"Hey" he replied as she scooted closer to him, nuzzling into his warm body.

[cookiesupplier]

Breakfast with Käresta (nsfw)

pairing: Joakim “Jolly” Karlsson x ofc (Evie)

cw: 18+ Minor DNI, oral sex f-receiving.

summary: Jolly is leaving for tour, and it's time to say goodbye to his darling Käresta.

author’s note: Unbeta’d. Continuation of the Käresta mini-series, following Kristmas with Käresta & Käresta's NYE (nsfw).

tags: @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @lyschko666

Morning light was just starting to stream in through the gaps in the curtains, his alarm hadn’t gone off yet, and he counted that as a blessing. It meant Jolly could lay just watching her sleep for a moment at least. He hated today, he had been dreading when the morning arrived ever since New Year's Eve. Leaving for a tour was usually something he looked forward to after the break gave them some downtime, and don’t get him wrong, he did look forward to this one as well. Being able to do what he loved, with other musicians who hopefully enjoyed it as much as he did, was a dream come true, and this tour not being a headliner, at least, for the first leg of it, was a welcome change.

As it was, yesterday, just as they had most of the week past gone, they’d been preparing to leave for tour, making sure everything was organised just as it should be, from having the right fights booked, to having the right equipment ready and packed to go. Yesterday especially, they’d finished going over the checklist of everything being done and set for their travel today over to Europe, ready for the tour. Now, this morning, Jolly just had to deal with getting himself finished personally packed, and to the airport on time, not to mention making sure he didn’t break under the emotional weight of leaving Evie.

He’d never had to leave anyone behind quite the way he’d have to leave Evie. Yes, he had family and friends he didn’t get to see in Sweden all the time, and he left friends he had made behind here all the time, but Evie was something else. She’d always been something special to him, and confessing how he felt to her, admitting he couldn’t imagine his life without her? It made leaving not only the country but travelling to a whole other continent for almost a month and a half, it was going to be so painful without her.

Last night he’d wanted to take her out for a special date night, she’d talked her out of it. Pointing out he’d been taking her out most of the week, and tonight, he should be resting. He was going to be on a massive flight, and it was going to be hell on him when he got there with jet lag, which he’d have to overcome before their first show! So she talked him into staying in, spending the night together here, at the house, together. Sure, others would be there, but they had curled up in his room, ordered Uber, and watched a movie together on his laptop. Just the two of them. Just Jolly, and his darling Käresta, his sweetheart. 

Sighing, he was going to miss her, but for now, he didn’t want to move or risk waking her. Jolly wasn’t going to rush the morning, even if he knew that he didn’t have forever to waste, his alarm was set. Actually, he had multiple reminders set on his phone, as the case may be. Evie had done it last night before they went to bed, she had insisted he would need it. He had smirked at the time, watching her enter them in, one after the other as she told him in no uncertain terms, what each one was for. When to wake up, when to drag his ass out of bed and have breakfast, when to get dressed, then to finish packing his bag, put it in the car, when he needed to arrive at the airport… The list of things he needed to finish today felt endless, and yet it all came down to one issue for him this morning. Her.

Glancing at his phone, he had some time before the first alarm went off, his WAKE UP call that Evie had insisted upon. Someone had to make sure he behaved tomorrow if he was going to prove to be difficult, considering he hadn’t wanted to do much of anything last night aside from staying wrapped up in her. Setting his phone back down on his bedside table, he shifted in the bed, and felt her twist in his arms, smiling to himself..

“Alarms about to go off, almost time to get up, Käresta.”

Pressing a soft kiss to her lips, her eyes fluttering open, watching as she arched a little with a groan, her hands curving around his sides, fingers flexing against she pulled fists fulls of his shirt slightly with a half-asleep sigh as she woke up.

“Yea? What do you feel like for breakfast? If you give me a minute, I can start making you something while you hop up and shower.”

Chuckling, oh, but he had a better idea deciding to say as much,

“I have a much better idea, still have a few minutes, much rather start the day… right.”

At least right the way he saw it, especially when he wasn’t going to see her, feel her, taste her for weeks. Her response, which he could only assume to be about breakfast being the most important meal of the day, a remark he’d had to remind her of more times than he could count, and she’d been so cheeky with it last night, but her words were muddled against his lips as he kissed her before his lips started moving along her jaw to distract her.

“Jolly, wh- what-”

“Shhh, Sweet thing, breakfast time. At least for me.”

Smirking against her skin as he nipped gently at the base of her neck just as he came to the collar of her nightshirt, which was one of his shirts. He wasn’t complaining, she’d acquired a few of his shirts over the week, and if he returned from tour to Evie having squirrelled away more of his clothes from his closet while he was gone, he wouldn’t be surprised.

Not that that was any different from before, she just didn’t even seem to be trying to hide it from him now. No, oh, I must have picked it up by mistake, sorries! Girlfriend privileges and all as it were.

Now he was pushing her stolen shirt up so he could press kisses to her belly as she squirmed under him, him shifting from laying beside her, to settling between her thighs, his intent becoming more apparent by the second. As he made his way down to her hips, pressing his lips tantalisingly at the lacy band of her underwear, smirking, all she’d worn to bed was the shirt other than her panties, complaining that he was just too warm and that when they were wrapped up with him, she overheated too easily. Was he supposed to complain about this when right now it gave him so much less for him to remove?

“Lift for me, Käresta.”

Jolly could already taste her on his tongue, and he wanted, wanted. His fingers hooked the sides of the smooth material and slid them down her thighs as she did just that, her hips lifting from the bed so he could pull her underwear from her body. Tossing them aside on the bed, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh as his hands spread her legs a bit wider so he could lean in closer, pressing another kiss to her other thigh, enjoying the way she squirmed, then he licked up along her slit, drawing a gasp from her. She’d been waiting, but still, he loved every one of her reactions and how she couldn’t stop them. Humming at the warmth of her skin, the taste of her on his tongue. Fuck, best breakfast he could have, he could want.

Feeling her reach for him, one of her hands threaded her fingers into his already sleep-messed hair. His hands flexed at her legs, massaging, his thumbs running along the crease of her thigh as he took another lick at her, this time his tongue pressing into her a little as he did. Jolly smirked, this time he earned a moan as her fingers tugged at his hair a little.

“Already so wet for me.”

The taste of her on his tongue was perfection, but he had no intention of rushing, not even if his alarm went off, no, he was going to draw out his breakfast as long as possible because damn if he was going to make this last. This breakfast was going to last them weeks. Jolly licked his tongue deeper into her as much as he could once more, feeling her muscles tensed around him, her fingers gripping his hair, and he moaned against her pussy, that was his girl, before his lips were moving to her clit, and Jolly was sliding two of his fingers inside of her to replace his tongue as he sucked ever so gently. It was a tease, building her up, but he was learning what she loved, and this was Evie, his Käresta, as if he couldn’t tell. He couldn’t feel the way she arched into his touch, whimpering those tiny little sounds as he built her up, little by little.

Sure enough, there went his wake-up alarm, and Jolly’s hand snapped out for his phone and slapped at the screen to snooze it. Did he care that this was the very reason that Evie had given him a million different alarms to make sure he got going on time? No. Though he doubted this was what she had in mind to keep him from actually getting out of bed. It was the far better option, in his personal opinion, as he was fucking into her with his fingers and letting his tongue circle around her clit teasingly. He knew he was driving her insane with the way her fingers were pulling tighter in his hair with each stroke of his tongue.

His fingers curled inside of her as he started to suck a bit harder against her clit to drive her higher, feeling the way she was starting to clench tighter around his fingers. Groaning against her, her hips hitching against her, her body literally grinding up against his face, his fingers, which was everything that he wanted. Having Evie lose herself to the pleasure right now, using him for her need was perfection and he wanted it so much. Groaning as he kept working her. Sucking her clit harder, humming a moan against her and letting the vibrations run through her sensitive skin, hearing as she cried out, her body clenching so tightly around his fingers as she came.

Lapping at her with his tongue, sucking at her clip to let her ride out her orgasm and drawing out her pleasure as her thighs trembled, he drew the moment for as long as he could, until Evie was almost sobbing and was pushing his face away from between her legs. It was a weak shove of her hands in his hair, but he felt it, and got the message loud and clear. Breathless himself, his cock, hard, aching in his sweats, nothing he couldn’t take care of himself once he was in the shower. Jolly crawled back up her body, she lay sprawled and spent, she was so gorgeous like this, on his bed, he was almost tempted to grab his camera and take a photo so he would have more than just his memory while he was away on tour, but Evie would no doubt smack him if he tried. His lips found hers now, licking into her mouth with the kiss so she could taste herself on his tongue.

The moan he got in reply was an utter delight, and he’d never get enough, smiling against her lips as the kiss broke, but only because his alarm started going off again, the snooze he’d activated finally running out. Damn.

“Fuck, Jolly..”

“Good Morning, my Käresta.. Once I’ve had a shower, I’ll be sure to make you breakfast, it is after all the most important meal of the deal. And you served me mine, perfectly.”

Stealing another kiss with a laugh as he narrowly avoided getting smacked with one of his pillows, laughing as he climbed off of his bed. 

Dividers by @saradika / @saradika-graphics

[all-the-things-2020]

Late Night Talking - Chapter Thirteen

Summary: The aftermath of the encounter with Jonathan.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: references to rehab, loneliness, angst

Notes: This one is more serious than the other chapters but it’s something they had to go through. Things will get more rom-commy after this, I promise!

Word Count: 4300+

Tag list: @rhoorl @avastrasposts @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @gwendibleywrites @weho2kcmo

I was still cramming clothes into my suitcase when I heard the lock buzz on the door.

”What the hell was that?” Dieter said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be out of here in a few minutes,” I said.

”What the fuck? Are you packing? Em, what’s going on?”

I slammed the suitcase shut and turned toward him. “I should be asking you what the fuck is going on. But I have a pretty good idea.”

He just looked at me. He was going to make me say it. “I saw you, Deiter. I saw you kissing him. And if it was up to me you’d get another Oscar for the performance you’ve been putting on these last few months.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Oh, shit … I … he caught me by surprise.”

”He caught you and he can have you,” I said, lifting the suitcase. “I’m going home.”

He stepped in front of me. “Wait. Just calm down, Em. There’s no need to go charging off like this. We have a flight booked in the morning. Can we just talk about this?”

”There’s nothing to talk about! You were making out with someone else while we were on a fucking date.”

”I didn’t kiss him back,” Dieter said. “I swear. Like I said, he caught me by surprise and …”

”If someone surprised me with an unwanted kiss, I’d push them away. I’d tell them to stop, not close my eyes and savor the moment.” My voice shook as my throat tightened. “I believed you, Dieter. I thought you loved me.”

”I do love you,” he said. “I — I fucked up. I admit it. I shouldn’t have let Jonathan get as far as he did. I — oh, fuck!” He dropped to his knees. “Please, Em, don’t leave right now. Give me a chance to explain.”

”There’s nothing to explain,” I said sadly. “And maybe we can talk about this later on but right now … I just can’t.”

”Okay, then, we won’t talk about it, but just … stay the night. I won’t talk to you, I won’t touch you, we’ll just get some sleep and try to fix things in the morning.” His eyes were swimming with tears and as angry as I was, I couldn’t resist those puppy dog eyes looking up at me.

”I’ll stay,” I said. “But I can’t talk to you. I can’t even look at you.”

”Fair enough,” he said. “I’ll sleep on the floor or something.”

”Whatever.” I dropped the suitcase on the floor and went into the bathroom. I washed my face. My eyes were red and my face was blotchy, but I didn’t care. I stripped off my clothes and pulled on the clean bathrobe that was hanging on the back of the door. I had a nightshirt in my suitcase but I didn’t feel like going back out and rummaging through the mess to find it. I was tired and angry and as much as I wanted to get away from Dieter, I knew that going to bed was the best idea. In my condition, it really wasn’t a good idea for me to be negotiating my way around a strange city and airport in the middle of the night. Besides, changing my flight would cost money, as would an Uber or shuttle back to Dieter’s place to pick up my car. My bank account was stretched enough as it was.

When I came out of the bathroom, Dieter was sitting on the floor with his back against the side of the bed, his head in his hands. I ignored him and crawled into bed. I told myself I didn’t care if he sat there all night. I turned on my side so I was facing away from him and pulled the covers over my head. I’d been cold all day, and between the robe and the blankets, I finally managed to warm up. I was still shaking, though.

I’d lain there for at least a half an hour when I heard Dieter get up and go into the bathroom. After a moment, I heard his voice, low and urgent. I knew I should ignore him but the idea that he might be on the phone with Jonathan burned a hole in my brain. I crept out of bed and sat against the wall just outside the bathroom door. 

“I fucked up, Freddy,” Dieter said. I relaxed just a bit. He’d called his brother, not Jonathan. “I don’t know what to do,” he sobbed. ”I can’t … I don’t know what I’ll do without her.”

I should have gotten back into bed, but I stayed where I was. At that point, I figured eavesdropping was less of a crime than kissing another person.

”I don’t know,” Dieter said with a deep sigh. “I just … he was there when I came out of the men’s room and I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but he smiled at me and … you know that smile always made my knees weak. Next thing I knew, he was kissing me and I just froze. And she saw us.”

More silence.

”Yeah, she’s pretty pissed off. Not that I blame her. I did convince her not to go to the airport. I’ll try to talk to her in the morning.”

This time the silence was punctuated by sniffles and sobs.

“Yeah, me, too, man. I finally found someone who loves me for who I am, who doesn’t give a shit about whether I’m famous or rich or making her look good and …” His voice broke. “I fucked up with Mom and I fucked up with Dad and I almost fucked up with you and now … I don’t want to lose her, Freddy. I can’t lose her.” 

I crawled quietly away and back into bed. I was crying again myself, but this time it wasn’t because my heart was broken. It was because his was. And it was partly my fault. I hadn’t given him a chance to explain himself. Maybe if I had …

He stayed in the bathroom a while longer, then came out and very gently climbed onto the far side of the bed. I rolled over to face him.

”Sorry,” he whispered, his voice raw. “Did I wake you up?”

”No.”

”Do you mind if I …?”

”No. It’s fine.”

”Good night.”

I waited a long beat, then slid closer and put my arms around him. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” I said. 

He started sobbing again, his head cradled against my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I fucked up, Em, I fucked up.”

”Shh … It’s okay. You can tell me in the morning. We both need a good night’s sleep.” I ran my fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. He calmed down a bit.

”Thank you,” he said, his voice impossibly small.

”For what?”

”For giving me a chance. For not leaving. For ….” His breath hitched. 

“Putting up with your melodramatics?”

He huffed out a laugh. “For being you,” he said. “For being real.”

*****************************************************************

For once, Dieter was up before I was. I woke up to find him hunched over his phone, tapping away. He glanced up as I stretched. 

“Hey, good morning,” he said hesitantly. “Give me a sec. Just messaging Janice. Want to see if she can work me in when we get back to L.A.”

”Dieter, you didn’t mess up that badly,” I said. “I should have given you a chance to explain, should have confronted you instead of trying to run off ….”

”It’s not that,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “It’s … I woke up during the night and I wanted … I wanted to use. Like if you hadn’t been there right next to me, I’d have been on the phone looking for a hook up. And believe me, there are a thousand ways to get hold of stuff on a Friday night in New York City.”

”But you didn’t,” I reminded him.

”Only because you were here,” he said. “If you’d left like you planned to … fuck, Emily, I don’t want to be that guy anymore. I thought I’d put him behind me.”

”You aren’t him,” I said. I sat next to him and put my arm around his shoulder. “You aren’t. I would never have fallen in love with him.”

”It’s Jonathan,” he said. “He brought back a shit ton of stuff I thought I was done with.”

I laid my head on his shoulder. “Tell me about him. About what happened last night. I promise I’ll just listen.” The morning had brought me a little clarity. I had overreacted.

”I knew Jonathan back in the day, when I was in college,” he said. “We hooked up now and then but it wasn’t anything serious until after my mom died. I was in L.A. and everyone was all about the fucking Oscar and I was self-medicating pretty heavily and he showed up on my doorstep. Like literally, I opened the door one day and he was there. And the first thing he said was ‘I heard about your mom,’ and that was it. He moved in and I thought, ‘Finally, someone cares about me and not just my stupid career.’

”Freddy warned me but I was still kind of estranged from him at the time and I told him to fuck off. I thought Jonathan was in love with me and I was in love with him. We got high and fucked each other and went to parties and yeah, maybe his career got a little boost, but he was there for me. At least, I thought so.

”Then one day he tells me he’s going to London with a producer who’d offered him a role in a movie and a Lamborghini. ‘Nothing personal’ he said. And when I asked why he’d stopped loving me, he laughed and said ‘Love doesn’t have anything to do with any of this.’ And he left, and I got so fucked up I got fired from the film I was doing and everything went downhill for years until I was doing Cliff Beasts and waking up in a hospital bed.”

He sighed deeply. “While I was in rehab, Janice helped me see that Jonathan had been using me, that I was better off without him, that I’d never really loved him. But last night … Em, it scared me how much I reacted to him. How attracted I still was.”

”Attraction is instinctual,” I said. “You can’t really control it.”

”He and I have nothing in common except how much we want to fuck each other,” he said. “And I’m with you now. I shouldn’t have felt that way about him.”

”Feeling and acting are two different things,” I said. “You can be attracted to anyone who ticks the right boxes in your brain. That has nothing to do with fidelity. It’s only wrong if you act on it.”

”I let him kiss me,” he said quietly.

”You didn’t kiss him back,” I reminded him. “You get partial credit for that. And you came after me instead of leaving with him.”

”How much of my conversation with Freddy did you hear?”

”A lot,” I confessed. “I … I thought you might be calling Jonathan, so I was listening at the door. I shouldn’t have.”

”No, it’s fine. I didn’t say anything to Freddy I shouldn’t have — wanted to — say to you. I’m not good at relationships, Em. I did everything I could to make my mom love me and notice me and you know how that turned out. And I alienated my dad because I thought I had to choose sides when they got divorced. I almost trashed things with Freddy but he was smart enough to see that I needed help and he was my number one supporter when I decided to go into rehab.

”And you … I don’t know why the universe sent you to me, Emily, but it did and I don’t want to fuck this one up, because I know this time I have the chance to do things right. The night of our first date, I called Freddy and I told him I thought you were The One. And he told me to wait a year and see if I still felt the same way. It hasn’t been a year yet, but I still feel that way.”

”I think … you’re getting ahead of yourself, Deet,” I said carefully. “We’ve only known each other about four months. We’re still in the rose-colored glasses phase. I … I want to jump in as much as you do, but remember when you told me I could move in? I seriously thought about it, and I talked to my friend Sam and she told me to really think it through, to listen to my head as much as my heart. I think she and Freddy are right. We need to slow down a little. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us. If we do this right, if we take our time and put in the work, it can last.”

”It might be hard,” he said.

”I think we’re worth it. You’re worth it.”

He put his arm around me and kissed my cheek. “I ain’t worth shit, but you are more precious than anything to me.”

”Not exactly eloquent but I’ll take it,” I said. “And you are worthy, Dieter Bravo. Worthy of love and respect, just like everyone else in the world.”

”You really think we can do this?”

I looked him in the eyes. “Yes,” I said. “I think we can. I trust you, Deet. I just need to stop jumping to conclusions every time I see you near an attractive person and listen to you when you tell me you want to be with me.” I tried to smile. “You aren’t the only one in this relationship who’s a bit fucked up, you know.”

”Maybe Janice can give us a two for one special,” he said, a glint starting to shine in his eyes for the first time. “Not sure if she does couples therapy ….” His face went serious again. “I might need some time to get things straight in my head again. Might even have to go back into rehab for a little while … are you okay with that?”

”I’m okay with anything that helps you feel better about yourself,” I said. “I want you to be happy.”

”You make me happy,” he said, laying his head on my shoulder. 

I closed my eyes. “Same,” I said, the only thing I could force out around the lump in my throat. Books and movies made love look so damn easy, but this was hard. This was real. I just hoped I was strong enough to see it through.

***********************************************************

Dieter met with Janice on Monday and checked back into rehab that evening. I got a text while I was at work.

DIETER: Good session with Janice. Checking in tonight. Won’t be able to talk to you for a while but J will send updates. Love u.

Janice called about eight o’clock that night to let me know that Dieter was fine. “I can’t tell you much because of patient-doctor confidentiality, but we had a very productive session this morning and honestly, this residence is just a precaution. I think Dieter just needs a bit of a safety net right now. I don’t expect him to be in for long.”

That was one of the longest weeks in my life. Work kept me busy during the day, although it was hard to keep up the facade in front of Eileen, but the evenings were torture. I hadn’t realized how much I relied on those nightly calls from Dieter. Whether we vented about work or made plans for the weekend or just joked around, it was the highlight of my day. I missed him, missed his voice, the weird faces he made when he forgot he was on FaceTime and I could see him. I missed the feeling of connection we’d built.

Friday night, I lost it. I was alone and feeling sorry for myself and I cried. I cried for me but mostly for Dieter. I wondered if he was as lonely as I was. Outside communication wasn’t allowed during the first week of his stay, so I wouldn’t hear from him until Monday at the earliest. 

The weekend crawled by. I caught up on chores and errands, which in theory was a good thing, but by Sunday night, I was feeling even more sorry for myself. A quick peek at Facebook and Instagram showed that most of my friends and coworkers had been out enjoying life while I was grocery shopping and cleaning the toilet and folding laundry. I’d been used to it before I met Dieter — the price I gladly paid for being an independent, self-sufficient single woman — but now it just seemed soul-crushingly dull. I felt myself descending into self-pity and did the one thing I knew could pull me out of the pit. I texted Sam.

ME: Save me.

SAM: What’s going on, chickie?

I dumped it all on her: what had happened with Jonathan, Dieter going into rehab, my feelings of loneliness and futility.

SAM: You’re gonna be okay. You’ve been through worse shit in your life, Em. You should have called me sooner.

ME: I didn’t want to put it on you. It’s my mess.

SAM: How many times have I bitched to you about my life? You’re allowed to tell me about yours.

ME: It’s just Dieter’s going through this by himself. I should be able to do the same.

SAM: Hold up, he’s got a whole fricking team of experts walking him through it. You’re the one who’s by herself. 

Sam was right. I’d been trying to navigate this alone, while Dieter had Janice and the staff of the rehab facility guiding him. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed help, too.

ME: Thanks, chickie. I can always rely on you to slap me upside the head with the truth when I need it. 

SAM: Any time. And hang in there. I think he’s worth it.

ME: So do I.

***********************************************

My phone rang at exactly eight o’clock Monday evening. It was Dieter.

”Hey!” He looked excited. “How you doing, sweetie?”

”Hanging in there,” I said. “You look good.”

”I feel good. It’s been a lot of work but, yeah, I feel really good. About myself. About us.”

”Any idea when you'll be out of there? I miss you.”

”End of the week, probably. Can you … will you be able to come out to my place next weekend?”

”Of course,” I said. 

He grinned. “I’m going one hundred percent sober this time, Em. No alcohol, no edibles, nothing. And it’ll be a lot easier the first few days if you’re with me. Not that I need you to be there, but … it would be nice.”

”I wouldn’t miss it,” I told him. “And you might not need me, but I need you, Deet. I’ve missed you so much.”

”I know,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about you. I’ve got all this support and schedules and really been able to focus on shit and you’ve been dealing with work and real life. I’m sorry, babe.”

”No need to apologize. You needed to do this. And I can already see what a difference it’s made.”

I heard a timer beep somewhere behind him. “Ah, shit, time’s up. I’ve gotta go. But I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you.”

”I love you, too.”

*******************************************************************

Even though his calls were brief, just talking to Dieter every night made the next week much better. When Friday came, I was champing at the bit all day. Dieter was leaving the rehab facility Saturday morning, and I wanted to be there when he got home, so I was going to make my usual Friday evening trek to Hollywood. For once I didn’t mind the traffic (well, I did, but I was in such a good mood I was able to keep my frustration to a minimum). 

The house felt hollow and empty when I went in. The cleaner had been there to dust and sweep but otherwise no one had been in the house for two weeks. It was too neat and tidy; Dieter always left a bit of chaos behind him. 

I ordered something for dinner and tried to watch TV but it just felt too lonely without Dieter. Then my phone rang.

”Hey, are you at my place already?,” he asked, squinting at the camera.

”Yeah, I wanted to be here when you get home, but … it’s kind of lonely without you. Maybe I should have driven over in the morning.”

”No, I think … I think it’s good. You can warm the bed up for me.” He winked. “I’ll sleep better knowing you’re there waiting for me.”

”Are you excited?” He seemed a bit antsy.

”Excited and scared,” he admitted. “It’s easy to be sober here, but in the real world, it’s gonna be tough. I’m glad you’re going to be there the first couple of days.”

”Me, too. I know this is scary, Deet, but you can do this. And I’ll be with you every step of the way. No matter what.”

After he hung up, I felt much lighter and the house didn’t seem so empty. It was ready to welcome Dieter home. And so was I.

************************************************

I felt like a kid waiting for Santa Claus. I was glued to the security camera feed on my phone, watching for Dieter’s car to turn into the driveway. I’d changed the sheets on the bed that morning, made sure there was coffee ready to brew in the machine, even run to the local bakery as soon as it opened to get some of those scones that Dieter loved so much. Everything was ready for him. Especially me.

I’d done a lot of thinking over the past two weeks and I felt a lot better about our relationship. It didn’t feel as fragile as it had before. I’d always been waiting for Dieter to realize he could do better than me, but after hearing him on the phone with Freddy, I felt stronger. Dieter needed me as much as I needed him. He saw me as a person, not just something that could enhance or damage his image. And I saw him fully for the first time, as a man who had been through some shit, and was doing his best to deal with it. Not a celebrity, not a dreamboat, just a guy. A guy who needed someone at his side.

And truth be told, I needed someone by my side. As much as I told myself I didn't need anyone else, I wanted to belong to someone. Not in the “I’m not complete until I have a man” way but in a “I want someone to have my back” kind of way. I had Sam but she was so far away, and she had a family and life of her own. She was there for me but I wanted — needed — something more. I wanted Dieter.

I was waiting at the door when he pulled up next to my car. He was smiling ear to ear as he got out, grabbed his bags and practically ran to the house. 

“God, I missed you,” he said, dropping his suitcases in the doorway and wrapping his arms around me.

”I missed you, too,” I said. He smelled amazing. It wasn’t just his cologne, which was subtle and spicy and woodsy. It was him. I’d missed his scent. I breathed him in until I felt like every bit of my body was full.

We barely had the door shut before he was kissing me. “There’s coffee and scones,” I managed to say in between kisses.

”Later,” he said. “Right now I just want you.”

We messed up the bed I’d so carefully made just a few hours ago, but I didn’t mind. It had only been two weeks since the last time we’d slept together, but it felt like months. Everything was new again and we took our time rediscovering each other. 

“You are amazing,” Dieter said afterwards as we lay in bed, knowing we should get up and get dressed but wanting to be lazy for just a bit.

”I didn’t do anything special,” I said. “You on the other hand …”

He shook his head. “I mean, you’re amazing for waiting for me, for listening to me, for understanding.” He toyed with a lock of my hair. “A lot of people would have bailed, especially so early in a relationship. But you stayed.”

”I had to,” I admitted. “You told Freddy you couldn’t lose me. Well, I realized that I can’t lose you. I need you, Dieter. I need you in my life. You’re the piece I didn’t even know was missing.”

He kissed me gently. “Does that mean …?”

”It means I like what we have, where we are right now. I still think we need to take things slowly, not jump into anything but … I think I know where our path is heading and I like it. And I’m looking forward to walking it with you, Deet. Side by side.”

”Hand in hand,” he said, taking my hand in his. 

“Cheek to cheek,” I said, pressing my face against his.

”Butt to butt,” he laughed, twisting around so that his butt was pressed against the side of mine.

”Why are you so fascinated with butts?”

”Because deep inside I’m still a twelve-year-old boy,” he said, batting his eyes at me.

”You know, there’s a reason I don’t work at a middle school …” I started to say, but he cut me off with a kiss that was definitely the work of a middle aged man who’d had years of practice. I was more than willing to overlook a few butt jokes for that.