#edited this one at 4 in the morning while falling asleep

[circusjuney]

₊‧.°.⋆ freakshow cas challenge by @zeenica 🎈🤡⋆.°.‧₊

day 6 - harlequin, the joke 🃏

[mattodore]

you can break, throw yourself away, leave it behind. and, if you need to, you can break me too. you can disappear, but please just take me with you when you go.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 7: In All My Victories

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

Somebody said you got a new friend (But does she love you better than I can?)

(In which a writer in an EST timezone uses the PST timezone to announce that technically she's still meeting the deadline)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy

Words: 6.5K

TW: Swearing, Toxic Relationships

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Listen it's past midnight here but it's only around 9 pm in California which is where most of this fic is set so TECHNICALLY I am still meeting my deadline. This chapter is kind of a filler (and I guess that's why I don't love it) because it was gonna be about ~3K longer with another scene but it was either a longer chapter or a Monday chapter and I feel like y'all would prefer a Monday chapter. I have not edited this yet because I simply just don't have the energy to so pretty please point out my errors as you read so I can use them when I edit some time tomorrow. There's probably other stuff I need to say but I'm feeling oddly delirious right now so I'll just end with the usual. Let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

March 2033

Paige wakes up to a stream of sunlight tapping at her eyelids and someone’s soft breath tickling against her nose. She can feel a tiny hand pressed against her chest -right above her heart- and the weight of another person’s fingers intertwined against her own. The room is silent with the exception of the clock ticking on the wall and the perfectly harmonized breathing of the other people in the room. Stephie and Azzi. And Paige is scared to open her eyes, scared to move even an inch, scared that if she does either of those things, her dreamlike reality will prove to be nothing but a hopeless mirage. 

It had taken Paige a moment last night to really register what was happening around her. Dazedly, she had followed Azzi up the stairs into the guest room. She’d watched, albeit unhelpfully, as Azzi had searched out extra pillows, setting up the queen-sized bed so it could fit three people instead of it’s regular duo. It hadn’t sunk in even as Paige had slowly gotten herself ready for bed, finding herself in one of Azzi’s old oversized t-shirts suddenly overwhelmed with how much she’d missed falling asleep embraced in the scent of the younger woman’s favorite lavender and eucalyptus deodorant. Even as she’d made her way back from the bathroom and found Stephie beaming at her from where she was curled into Azzi’s side on bed, Paige still felt like she was simply just watching everything from a facetime call, like she had been while back in Dallas. It wasn’t until Stephie’s bedtime story was finished and the lights were turned off, when Azzi’s hand finally captured hers underneath the comforter and squeezed gently, that it finally clicked for Paige. 

Azzi had asked her to stay over.

Azzi had promised she wouldn’t run away. 

And as Paige finally lets eyes flutter open, blinking to adjust to the light, she breathes out a sigh of relief at the sight of a promise kept. 

Propping herself onto her elbow, she lets herself take in the view of the two people still sound asleep next to her. Paige isn’t a morning person by any means -rarely is she the first person to wake up- but she thinks if this was what she could open her eyes to every time, getting up could become her favorite part of the day. 

It’s uncanny how similar Azzi and Stephie are while sleeping. The little girl’s grip on Paige’s shirt is almost as strong as the tight hold her mother has on Paige’s hand. It’s like they’re trying to reel Paige into their world and keep her there forever, like even if she let go, they wouldn’t let her. There’s an air of contentedness on Azzi’s face as she snuggles closer to her daughter and Stephie has a soft smile at being cocooned in the protection of her mother’s arms. And Paige’s whole body aches a little bit because this bed they’re on is definitely not made for three people, but it’s nothing in comparison to the way her heart feels like it might burst from this feeling of and maybe this is how i become whole again. 

She presses a kiss against Stephie’s forehead and rubs her thumb against the back of Azzi’s hand before carefully detaching herself from the duo and slipping out of bed. The whole house is still clearly asleep as Paige lethargically brushes and then begins to make her way down the stairs. Her eyes gloss over the pictures placed across the stairwell until they fixate on one that has her in it. It’s an image taken after one of many water fights they’d had at the Fudd household during a hot summer day. Life had been so simple back then when it was water and not bullets that they shot at each other. 

Five drenched children are beaming at the camera. Jon and José are posed in some ridiculous stance, their water guns pointed at the camera. Paige, par for the course, is flexing, a far too cocky smirk dancing on her lips because she’d probably won the game (even if nobody else agreed). And then there’s Drew and Azzi. There’s a familiar pang in Paige’s chest as she brushes her fingers over her little brother’s exuberant smile. He’s latched onto the brunette’s back, a blue water balloon in his hand, as Azzi uses one hand on his hip to keep Drew in place and uses her other one to hold a pink water balloon of her own. The Fudds -Azzi- had been as big of a constant in Drew’s life as they had been in Paige’s and she wonders now, as she thinks back to her little brother’s irritation with her joining the Valkyries, if he’d ever forgive her and Azzi for taking that away from him. 

“Oh hey good morning,” Tallulah says as Paige lets herself into the kitchen, blanching slightly at the sight of the other woman. 

“Good morning,” Paige greets, pouring herself a glass of water as she takes a seat at the island, “guessing you’re making pancakes?”

Tallulah nods with a grin, “Stephie’s orders you know.”

“Ah of course,” Paige laughs, “can’t defy the queen.”

She watches as Tallulah prances around the hardwood floor, grabbing bowls and ingredients, like it’s her kitchen and Paige can’t help the twinge of envy that blooms in her bloodstream. It used to be her. She used to know the Fudd’s kitchen -the whole house- like the back of her hand because really, like Katie always said, it was her home too. But she doesn’t quite know this place, couldn’t tell you where to find the sugar or where the utensils were kept and that stings more than she’d expected. It spirals Paige into the thought that she wouldn’t know any of those things at Azzi’s own house either. And suddenly she’s struck by the reminder that two people who’d once promised to build a world together, had spent the last couple of years, building two separate ones instead. 

“Hey,” Tallulah breaks Paige out of her trance, “you good.”

Paige musters up a smile, “yeah- yeah of course. Just- just thinking a lotta things I guess.”

“They’ve all missed you, you know,” Tallulah says softly, “they try not to do it too much around Azzi but it’s always ‘oh Paige would’ve loved this’ or ‘did you catch that bucket Paige made last night’. And whenever the Wings were playing here, it was a no-brainer that they would go.”

“Yeah?” tears prickle against the blonde’s waterline. 

“Yeah,” Tallulah confirms, “Tim lowkey lost his mind before you got here last night. Poor man was running all over the place making sure things were good. Katie thought it was pretty hilarious.”

Paige lets out a watery laugh, “that sounds like them-”

“Miss Buecks,” a tiny voice interrupts her before she can say anything and Paige whirls around to see a teary-eyed Stephie looking at her from the last step of the staircase, her bottom lip trembling and panic courses into Paige’s bloodstream

“Stephie,” she practically trips over herself as she rushes to fold the little girl into her arms, “sweetheart what’s wrong?”

Stephie nestles herself into the blonde’s neck, mumbling something incoherent as she holds Paige impossibly tight. 

“Stephie,” Paige whispers frantically, concern dripping from her voice, “tell Miss Buecks what’s wrong please. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me sweetheart.”

“Thought you left,” Stephie confesses finally, keeping her head burrowed against Paige’s shoulder, “you weren’t next to me when I woke up. Got scared.”

“Oh honey,” Paige whispers, as she gently coaxes the little girl’s head out from the crook of her neck so she can cup her face, “I’m right here. I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Stephie’s quiet for a second, hiccoughing to herself as she searches for something on Paige’s face before she holds out a pinky, “promise you’ll never leave?” 

Paige hesitates, the words sitting heavy on the tip of her tongue. It’s not that she doesn’t want to but Paige has learned first-hand about the fragility of the future, about how true the cliché about time changing in the blink of an eye can be. Because the truth is that it’s not just Azzi who’s scared. Paige is terrified. She’d drowned in this ocean once before and as she tries to swim in it again, she can’t quite find it in herself to shed her life-jacket by making an oath that she can’t guarantee to protect from the dangerous tides of circumstance.

And so she hopes it’s enough for Stephie as she caresses the little girl’s cheeks and says, “I promise I’ll try to stay.”

“Okay,” Stephie says softly and Paige lets out a sigh of relief, “I trust you Miss Buecks.”

Paige smiles, giving the little girl a kiss on the cheek before hoisting her up onto her lap, “did you wake your Mama up?”

“No. She’s still snoring,” Stephie giggles. 

Paige laughs, tucking that little tidbit away to tease Azzi with later, “how about you and I go get your Mama her favorite coffee?”

“Oh that’s nice,” Tallulah chirps from where she’s still standing in the kitchen, “go get coffee of course. Why would anyone stay here and help me?”

“Go ask uncle José,” Stephie shoots the younger woman an unamused look, “isn’t that what husbands are for?”

Paige stifles a grin as Tallulah narrows her eyes, waving her whisk menacingly at Stephie, “he’s not my husband yet and you watch it missy or maybe I won’t let you be a flower girl at the wedding.”

“Your wedding would be boring without me,” Stephie scoffs, “besides Aunty Tully, we’ll get you a drink too. Uncle José always says you drink vod-ka, too much of it app-ently, but I don’t know what that is,” she turns to Paige who’s gone bright red in attempt to stop herself from keeling over with laughter, “can we get vod-ka for Aunty Tully?”

Paige tries her best to compose herself, “maybe we’ll just get her a latte and save the vodka for later huh Tulls?”

Tallulah glares at her, flipping her off when Stephie’s gaze shifts towards the door, “just go get the coffee Bueckers.”

***

Not that she didn’t know it before, but Paige quickly realizes just how similar Stephie is to her mother while they’re standing in front of the bakery portion of the coffeeshop and it’s been ten minutes and Stephie still hasn’t decided which sweet treat she’d like. 

 “Stephie sweetheart,” Paige says, only slightly impatient, “how about the double fudge brownie?”

“That sounds good,” Stephie says excitedly and then her eyes dart towards the cinnamon bun in the corner, “or maybe the ninnamon bun- no wait- Aunty Tully’s gonna put ninnamon in the pancakes so maybe something else. Ooooh maybe a cookie but which one?”

Paige groans to herself as Stephie busies herself looking at the assortment of freshly baked cookies. The old woman over the counter, wearing a name tag saying Ruthie, shares a commiserating smile with her. 

“My daughter was like that too at that age. Couldn’t make a decision to save her life,” Ruthie says, a fond look in her eyes while talking about her child. 

Paige smiles, “did she ever grow out of it?”

“Well considering we went out to dinner last night and she couldn’t pick between the pepperoni and the sausage, I don’t think they really grow out of it,” Ruthie winks and Paige can’t help but think about Azzi and the way she’d struggled to pick out what to wear to bed last night, staring helplessly between two shirts that practically looked the same. 

“Oh I know that look,” Ruthie says, eyes twinkling at the hopeless smile on Paige’s face, as she tilts her head towards Stephie, “you’re thinking about her mother huh?”

“That obvious?” Paige blushes. 

Ruthie shrugs, “what is love if it can’t be seen by everyone?”

Love. The word seeps into Paige’s veins, traveling up her bloodstreams until it claws its way into her heart, settling against her ribcage like a rock so that when she breathes, it’s all she can feel. It’s too soon, she knows, and it defeats the purpose of going slow except- it’s not soon at all. Because this isn’t a new feeling, it’s a far too familiar old one that she’d buried as deep within her as possible but is now yearning to get out. It had never gone away, simply lingered in the back of her mind just waiting for this moment. And if she’s honest with herself, Paige doesn’t know if she should fight against it or let herself ride the waves of the before that are desperate to crash against the shore of now. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whines, “come help me choose.”

Shooting Ruthie an apologetic look and ignoring the pit in her stomach at the elder woman’s words, Paige walks over and bends down to the little girl’s height, “how about a chocolate chip cookie?”

“Boooooring,” Stephie crinkles her nose. 

“Peanut butter?”

“I’m ‘lergic to nuts Miss Buecks,” Stephie says matter-of-factly and Paige pencils that important fact into her mind’s ever growing list of all about Stephie.

“Salted caramel crunch?” 

“That sounds good,” Stephie nods, “yeah I’ll get that,” she says as she turns to Ruthie, “could I get a salted car-mel crunch cookie please?” but Paige doesn’t miss the wistful look she sends towards the rest of the cookies. 

“Stephie?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want me to get you one of each?”

And she’s absolutely going to get a disapproving glare from Azzi when she shows back up at the Fudd’s with almost a dozen cookies in hand but it’s worth it for the way Stephie immediately latches onto her thigh, a dazzling smile lighting up her whole face. 

“You’re best-est-est-est Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals, staring up at Paige with delight. 

“I know,” Paige smirks, “and you better protect me from your Mama when we get back.”

Stephie nods very seriously, “of course Miss Buecks. I’ll protect you with my life.”

Paige ruffles the younger girl's hair before turning to Ruthie who’s grinning at her, “one of every flavor of cookie you have please. Except anything that has nuts.”

“Coming right up,” Ruthie winks at Paige, “your daughter has you wrapped around her little finger huh?”

And maybe Paige should at least attempt to correct the misconception but as Stephie clings to her just a little bit tighter, she can’t find it in herself to say anything but, “yeah, yeah she does.”

***

“Next time you kidnap my daughter, can you at least send me a text?” Azzi says, a grin on her lips as she opens the door to let Paige and Stephie enter back into the Fudd household. 

“Good morning Mama,” Stephie says happily, launching herself into her mother’s arms and placing a sloppy kiss against her cheek. 

“Morning sunshine,” Azzi laughs, “you seem giddy this morning.”

“Miss Buecks bought me six-teen cookies and she let me eat two of them while we were dri-” Stephie pauses mid ramble, eyes widening as she dramatically slaps a hand over her mouth. 

Paige groans as a glare overtakes Azzi’s previously smiling features, “Steph what happened to protecting me?”

“It was an aksy-dent Miss Buecks I’m sorry,” Stephie whimpers, hurriedly cupping her mother’s face, “please don’t be angry at Miss Buecks, Mama. It was my idea.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, “I bet it was. But if you already had two cookies, you must be full? I guess that means no pancakes for you-”

“Miss Buecks forced me to eat the cookies,” Stephie cuts her off and Paige gasps at the betrayal, “not full at all Mama because you can’t get full unless you like what you eat and I didn’t like those cookies at all. So I neeeeeeed pancakes.”

“Traitor,” Paige hisses at the little girl who shrugs sheepishly. 

Stephie shoots her an apologetic smile as Azzi hides a grin against her daughter’s hair, “I’m sorry Miss Buecks but I really, really want pancakes. I’ll die if I don’t get pancakes.”

“Okay drama queen,” Azzi chides fondly as she puts Stephie back on the ground, “go get your pancakes,” and then she rounds onto Paige with a patented glare. 

“I got you an iced vanilla latte with extra whipped cream,” Paige says before the younger woman can say anything, practically shoving the cold drink into her hand. 

“Sixteen cookies? Paige seriously?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she sips at her coffee. 

“You didn’t see her Az,” Paige defends, “she looked so sad when she couldn’t decide.”

“Just because she looks sad doesn’t mean you buy her every single cookie to make her happy,” Azzi shakes her head exasperatedly. 

“I’d buy her the whole shop if that’s what would make her happy,” Paige says, sincerity weaved throughout every word of the sentence. 

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Azzi says softly, a hint of awe in her voice, “you’re kind of a sap Paige Bueckers.”

“Only for you and your daughter Azzi Fudd,” Paige whispers, leaning her head against the younger woman’s temple, “only for the two of you.”

They stand there like that, barely touching beyond their foreheads, yet basking in a certain kind of intimacy that they’ve only ever found with each other. The thing is, Paige’s senses are always heightened, every part of her always alert of what’s going around her. Except when she’s with Azzi. When she’s with Azzi she can let the noise fade to the background and let everything else become a blur and simply just be with Azzi. When she’s with Azzi, she doesn’t have to worry; doesn’t have to have her sword out ready for battle because she knows the younger girl will always be her shield. When she’s with Azzi, Paige is safe. 

They’re shaken from their reverie by a cough in the background and Paige reluctantly looks over her shoulder to see Jana regarding them with an amused look. 

“Guess I missed a couple of chapters?” 

“Shut up,” Paige grinds out, annoyed as Azzi moves out of her space, “what are you doing here so early El-Alfy?”

“I’m here for breakfast because I’m basically an honorary Fudd,” Jana throws her head back before yelling, “RIGHT KATIE?’

“Right Jana,” comes the muffled confirmation from the kitchen as Jana smirks at Paige. 

“The better question Bueckers,” the Egyptian prods with a smirk, “is what are you doing here so early?”

“I slept ov-” Paige bites her tongue but it’s too late as Jana’s grin gets wider and next to her, Azzi lets her head drop into her hands. 

“You slept over? In which room?” Jana asks innocently. 

And of course Stephie chooses exactly that moment to catch wind of the conversation, yelling from the kitchen, “she slept with me and Mama, Aunty J.”

“Thank you for telling me Stephie,” Jana’s eyes twinkle with mirth as she pulls out her phone, “oh I’m about to make some money- hey!”

Azzi snatches the phone out of her younger teammate’s hand, a sweet smile playing on her lips as she starts walking towards the kitchen, “no phones at breakfast thank you!”

“That’s not fair,” Jana whines sauntering after the GSV shooting guard, Paige snickering as she follows the two of them into the kitchen. 

“Life’s not fair. Deal with it,” Azzi glares before slipping Jana’s phone into her own pocket, “you can have it back before you leave.”

“Y’all are so mean,” Jana sulks, pouting harder when she reaches out to grab a pancake and immediately has her hand whacked by Tim.

“That one’s for Paige,” the older man warns sternly and Paige sticks her tongue out at her teammate as she grabs the pancake onto her place. 

“WHAT?” Jana guffaws, “what’s so special about it?”

Tim shrugs, “absolutely nothing. Just thought it would be funny to see you annoyed.”

“Y’all are the worst adoptive family a player could have you know that?” Jana scolds, pressing her fists to her cheeks like she’s barely older than Stephie, “and to think I was gonna invite the two of you,” she glares at Paige and Azzi, “to a party.”

“Party? Can I come?” Stephie asks excitedly. 

“Unfortunately this one’s just for adults kiddo. And it’s not really a party,” Jana explains, “me and Joyce thought it would be nice to do a little team-bonding, especially for you P. Drinks at the bar next weekend?”

“Sounds good,” Paige confirms, “we’ll be there!”

“Oh it’s ‘we’ now is it?” Jana teases, “you guys gonna come together?”

“No,” Azzi says at the same time as a profound “yes” leaves Paige’s mouth. The two of them stare at each other with questioning looks and Paige feels a heavy pit settling in her stomach. Rationally, she knows Azzi’s probably right. No part of going slow includes going to a party with their teammates together, especially not when they’re trying to keep whatever it is they’re doing on the down low. But there’s something about being a secret again, that raises a bitter taste of what killed us then could kill us now in her mouth. 

“Awkward,” Jon whistles slowly, only to be met with a simultaneous slap on the back of his head from both his mother and Tallulah. 

“I mean- I would have to drop Stephie off here- or umm- at Colleen's so like- logically- practically- uh- it um- it wouldn’t make sense for us to go together,” Azzi says and Paige has to refrain herself from calling it a bullshit explanation. 

Instead she gives the younger girl a tight-lipped nod, “right yeah-wouldn’t make sense for us to go together. Obviously,” gritting her teeth and desperate to change the topic, she turns to Jana, “will the whole team be there?”

“A couple of them aren’t currently in the Bay but yeah most of them,” Jana shrugs. 

“Oh,” Stephie claps excitedly, “will Aunty Chérie be there? Is she back yet?”

Paige narrows her eyes as both Jana and Azzi exchange looks, “who’s Aunty Chérie?”

“Aunty Chérie’s the best,” Stephie gushes, “she’s really nice and pretty and she calls me ‘mon chérie’,” the little girl does her best attempt at a vaguely french accent and realization starts to claw at Paige’s mind, “so I call her Aunty Chérie. She’s Mama’s best friend on the team.”

Paige tries and fails not to grimace at the sentence; the idea of anyone else being Azzi’s best friend feels like nails being screwed into her skin. 

“I’m your Mama’s best friend on the team,” Jana butts in, trying to rescue Azzi from the hole her daughter’s about to dig her into, glancing worriedly between the two former huskies who are doing their best not to look at each other. 

“If you say so Aunty J,” Stephie concedes, “but you didn’t answer my question. Is Aunty Chérie back?”

“Yeah she- um Clémence I mean- is coming back for a little bit next week so um-” Jana swallows, clearly not having thought the uncomfortableness of the situation through, “yeah she’ll uh- she’ll probably be there.”

Stephie lets out a whoop of excitement and Paige feels it burn a hole in her stomach. She knows she has no right to be upset at the idea of Stephie being as enamored by another one of Azzi’s teammates but something about it makes her feel queasy inside. Because Clémence Martens isn’t just a teammate. Paige doesn’t know the exact history there; she’d never had the right to ask about it but she’s seen the way Clémence looks at Azzi and she knows she doesn’t like it one bit.

“I thought Clémence was being traded to Atlanta?” Paige keeps her voice low as she leans into Jana. She’s not sure if Stephie knows the news yet and despite the jealousy that’s blooming in every crevice of her body, she doesn’t want to hurt the little girl by accidentally announcing it to her, “why’s she coming?”

Jana sighs, “Joyce invited her cause she was gonna be in town. You know they don’t know about-” the taller woman gestures between Paige and Azzi, “-all of this so. It’s just for one night Paige.”

“Right,” Paige nods, eyes locking with Azzi’s across the table as the younger woman fidgets with the ‘S’ necklace around her neck and shoots Paige a timid attempt at a reassuring smile, “just one night.”

***

August 2028

USA 68         France 64

The entire arena is abuzz for the final 20 seconds of a grueling semi-final match between the storied USA Women’s Basketball team trying to keep their dynasty alive and a vindictive French team eager to avenge their last heartbreaking Olympic loss. France has possession of the ball, shot clock turned off, and Paige has been tasked with guarding Clémence Martens. The woman in front of her, a bench player for the Golden State Valkyries,  had never seemed like much of a threat to Paige when they’d met during the W season, but seemed to have become a whole other beast when representing her nation. Clémence is currently leading the French team in assists and is only behind Gabby William in points. Paige keeps herself glued to the woman as she tries to get herself free for the inbound. 

The inbounder realizes after a couple of seconds that the French coach’s advice to get Clémence the ball wouldn’t be possible and instead the ball ends up in the hands of Iliana Rupert instead. As gameplay resumes, Paige does exactly as she’s supposed to and she can tell that she’s getting under the French woman’s skin as Clémence curses to herself in her native language. Paige bites back a smirk, secretly pleased at having riled her competitor up. The ball continues to pass around the French players, time ticking away, but the USA’s defense doesn’t allow a good shot until Gabby throws up a miraculous jumper with a second left on the shot clock. 

And of course, in a way that’s perhaps too reminiscent of how France had lost in 2024, it goes in. 

But it’s not enough and Paige feels blood rush to her ears as the entire arena, decked out in red white and blue, roars with triumph, celebrating the world's greatest team returning back to the finals stage. There’s still one more game but this win is special. They’d been down by 11 points at the half and Paige could almost picture the headlines ready to write themselves about the streaks that could be broken if they lost. But she was no stranger to the pressure that came from playing for a team with a deep history and it had been her and Stewie, partially motivated by their former college head coach frowning at them from the sidelines, that had spear-headed a 23-3 run at the beginning of the 3rd quarter. The USA women’s team hadn’t looked back since and now they were one more step away being golden again. 

“You did it,” Olivia screams, running into Paige’s arms as friends and family start to gather on the court, “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks Olivia-” Paige is about to say more when the familiar back of someone’s head catches her attention and, like they always seem to when she’s around, all the words die on the tip of her tongue. 

Azzi. 

Paige could’ve sworn she’d seen the woman in the crowd at some point but she’d chalked it up to a trick of the light manipulating her eyes into seeing what her heart desperately wanted. But as she watches the woman she’d once imagined celebrating all of her victories with, slowly brush away the tears of someone else’s loss, Paige can’t help but wish that it had been a trick of the light after all. She feels suffocated and she can’t tell if it’s from how tight Olivia’s holding her or if it’s because Clémence is burying her head into the space between Azzi’s neck and shoulder, a space that Paige used to mark as hers. And then Azzi looks above Clémence’s shoulder. Dark brown eyes shimmer with unshed tears as they lock onto watery sky blue ones. They’re standing in other people’s arms and they really should look away but how can they when looking into each other’s eyes feels a little bit like finally coming up for air. And Paige realizes that what she’s really being suffocated by is the regret of you’re supposed to be holding me and i’m supposed to be holding you; it was meant to be us. 

Azzi lets go of Clémence first, soothingly rubbing the francophone’s back as she makes her way over to congratulate the USA team, starting with Cam and Aliyah. Paige pulls away from Olivia, oblivious to the way annoyance flits across her wife’s features as she catches sight of Azzi. No one but the blonde notices how hesitant Azzi’s steps are, how she carefully pauses a little longer than necessary with everyone else until she finally reaches Paige, managing to give her a small but sincere smile. Olivia wraps a possessive hand around Paige’s bicep and the blonde fights the urge to shake it off when she notices Azzi’s eyes flickering to it for a brief second before coming back up to her face. 

“Congratulations Paige,” the formality in Azzi’s voice feels like acid pelting against Paige’s skin, “you were really good tonight.”

“Thank you,” Paige smiles politely, “it was pretty stressful there for a second but I’m glad we got the dub. But it um-” she hesitates, unsure if she should say the next part, “it would’ve been nice if you were out there with me- with us I mean. We could’ve used your shooting.”

“Maybe next time,” Azzi gives her a half-grin. 

“Oh I don’t know about that,” Olivia says airily, sharp nails digging a little too roughly into Paige’s skin as her grip tightens further, “there’s plenty of talent up and coming in the next 4 years.”

This is a side of Olivia that Paige is only just beginning to unveil, the side of Olivia that makes snide bitchy comments with a saccharine voice. And Paige really should let it go at this moment, make a mental note to speak with her wife about it later instead of jumping in. But she can see the insecurities brimming in Azzi’s eyes and the words tumble out before Paige can stop them. 

“Yeah but no one better than Azzi.”

Olivia stiffens, “right unless she’s injured or pregnant or something. You’re prone to those right?”

“Olivia,” Paige hisses. 

“I didn’t mean it offensively,” Olivia feigns innocence and a bitter mix of irritation and anger coils itself around Paige’s ribcage, “just something to think about.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second before a sugary smile, laced with poison, inches itself onto her face, “I’ve only been pregnant once and I haven’t been injured since college which I would expect someone in sports media to know but,” the brunette’s eyes flash dangerously, “I suppose that’s something someone with national media credentials would know, not just a mere local beat writer for Dallas’s fifth most read newspaper,” Azzi turns to Paige, sarcasm morphing into something far more genuine, “congratulations again. I’m really happy for you Paige.”

***

The Reynolds-Bueckers hotel room is a pathetic hot mess that night. Olivia’s livid at Paige and Paige is livid at the stupid #Clézzi tag on tiktok. She’s no stranger to fan edits and she’s definitely no stranger to ship edits and so when the first tiktok appears on her for you page, she knows better than to click on it. She knows better but she does it anyway. And suddenly she finds herself sucked into montage after montage of so-called moments between Clémence and Azzi that fans had noticed and documented. The clips are bad enough themselves but it’s the captions, bold declarations of look at the way she looks at her; no one can love azzi the way clémence loves her, that really piss her off. Clémence might look at Azzi like she’s made of stars but Paige knows that she looks at Azzi like she is the moon, Paige’s moon. As Olivia’s anger bounces off the walls, her rant about disrespect starts to mesh with the audio of the edits that continue to play on the blonde’s phone and Paige wonders if this her God-designed personal hell. 

“Are you even fucking listening to me Paige?” Olivia yells, forcing Paige to look up at her wife. 

“What do you want me to say Olivia?” Paige asks tiredly. 

“What do I want you to say? Well nothing now Paige. She said all of that shit to me and you were silent then so I’m not expecting you to say anything of meaning now either.”

“You’re the one who poked her first-”

“Jesus fucking christ,” Olivia laughs maniacally, “you’re really gonna do this?”

“I’m not doing anything,” Paige protests. 

“You’re defending her,” Olivia yells, “you’re my wife and you’re defending her. You’re defending your ex. Can you seriously not see what’s wrong with this picture.”

“Olivia,” Paige sighs, eyes gazing down at her phone where another fuckass Clézzi edit has started to play and she rapidly scrolls past it, “it’s been a long day and I just wanna go to bed. I have practice tomorrow and the gold medal game-”

“Right fucking basketball. Again,” Olivia rolls her eyes. 

“What-”

“It’s fine,” Olivia pinches the bridge of her nose, the fight draining from her voice, “you’re right go to bed. I’m not- I’m not feeling great so I’ll sleep out here tonight. Wouldn’t- wouldn’t want you to get sick before the gold medal game.”

“Olivia,” Paige says half-heartedly, taking a timid step towards the woman in front of her.

“It’s fine,” Olivia says, “just- just go to bed Paige.”

Paige knows that the last thing she should do is actually listen to her wife. And she knows that if it was Azzi -she hates herself for even thinking this way- she wouldn’t walk away. If it was Azzi, Paige would’ve pulled her into her arms, held her there and made her talk because they both hated going to bed angry. But well if it was Azzi, this whole situation wouldn’t exist in the first place. 

And so she ends up in bed alone, still scrolling through random tiktoks in an effort to not have to deal with all the voices in her head, until suddenly she stumbles on a video captioned and at the end of the day she’ll still always be looking at her. It’s a video taken today. Paige is holding Olivia and Azzi’s holding Clémence but they’re staring at each other. And Paige thinks that whoever wrote the caption, had probably gotten it right. At the end of day, she’ll always look for Azzi. She just doesn’t know if she’ll find her ever again. 

***

USA 102         Australia 73 

Paige can already taste the feeling of a gold medal around her neck as she takes a seat, the crowd roaring with applause as Coach Lawson empties her bench. There’s only fifteen seconds left in the game and her knees are bouncing in anticipation, ready to celebrate a moment she’s been dreaming of for god knows how long. Paige scans the crowd, not even pretending to look for anyone but Azzi and she can’t help the smile that erupts on her face when she spots the brunette with her fingers crossed, a brilliant grin directed in Paige’s direction as she mouths i’m so proud of you. 

Olivia isn’t here, claiming she was too sick to come tonight. Paige thinks she probably should be more upset about that. She thinks the whole thing is probably a ruse that Olivia had concocted to get Paige to beg her to come, to get Paige to show her that she wanted her wife there. The other woman's face had fallen when Paige hadn’t really reacted to the announcement, simply pressed her lips to her forehead and mumbled a feeble hope you feel better before leaving. Paige thinks this is probably the first sign they're falling apart. She thinks she should probably care about that a little bit more too. 

But the first thing her eyes had landed on once she’d entered the court, was Azzi’s face in the lower bowl and everything else had ceased to exist. Her first petty thought had been a ha! fuck you to the damned Clézzi shippers who claimed Azzi wouldn’t show up today, too busy consoling Clémence. They didn't know Azzi was all-american. Her second thought, the one that felt like a warm blanket being wrapped around her soul, was that of course Azzi’s here. Because Azzi had been there every time Paige achieved a milestone and even if they were barely a shadow of what they used to be, it's only right that Azzi is still here. 

Australia doesn’t even bother taking a shot, bowing out gracefully and the buzzer rings. 

The entire arena bursts into confetti and music as the USA Women’s Basketball Team clinches yet another Olympic Gold Medal. 

Paige doesn’t know who she’s hugging, lost in a sea of red uniforms as she feels herself floating through her teammates. They end up in a huddle, screaming and she can barely make out who’s saying what but it doesn’t matter. The chaos has never felt so fucking cathartic.

As everyone else disperses to find their families, Paige’s eyes land where they always seem to: on Azzi. And maybe she shouldn’t do it, maybe she should think again but fuck it Paige Bueckers is an olympic gold medalist and she’s going to share this moment with the first person she’d ever won a medal for this country with. Her legs move of their own accord, walking and then running and she breathes out a sigh of relief when she realizes that Azzi’s moving towards her too. 

“You did it. Oh my god Paige you did it,” Azzi squeals as they crash into each other in the middle of the court, her arms instinctively going around Paige’s neck as the blonds wraps her hands around Azzi’s waist, “I’m so fucking proud of you. I knew you could do it Paige.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Paige breathes out, “I just- it wouldn’t be the same winning without you.”

Azzi’s eyes soften, “I came for you. I don’t know if I’m allowed to say that but- I’m here for you.”

“Good don't want you to be here for anybody else,” Paige tightens her hold on the younger woman’s waist, “we’re gonna do it together next time okay. You and me, we’re gonna be golden together.”

And they both know that they’re saying words they shouldn’t say. That when they break apart from this moment, they’ll have to walk away. But for now, being in each other’s arms is the only thing that feels right, that feels golden.

[bonniepop]

i watched the haikyuu movie a total of four (4) times in theaters and while i do have my demons to deal with (probably the reason why i watched this movie four (4) times in theaters) kuroo was mighty fine in the film (don't look at me as if it's not true) that i just need something out there for him

so here's something i wrote a LONG time ago (edited of course) but whatever it's still cute. also i'm too lazy to do those titles and shit okay leave me be

—

the first thing kuroo registers before everything starts to make sense is the warmth of the morning sun on his face, the light bright against his eyelids. he grunts and squeezes his eyes, twisting so his face into the shade.

the second thing he registers, as soon as he squints his eyes open, is the bare walls of his room.

no, not his room. his walls weren’t this color, the room not this size. his had paint chips from a volleyball poster on the wall to the left of the bed. this wall one seemed freshly painted. 

and the last thing: a small shift of something, lightly scratching against the bed, and the familiar scent of shampoo. your shampoo.

it’s right then that the puzzle pieces fall into place.

your head is now pressed against his arm, immobile; likely still asleep. kuroo moves with the slightest of movements, shifting little by little so he doesn’t wake you. his mouth twitches into a smile when you breathe a little deeper and release a small snort.

when he’s fully facing you, he gently tucks a lock of your hair behind her ear to look at your face. you're looking down, chin tucked in, because you like to curl up into a ball while you sleeps (a habit he noticed a few nights into moving in together). right now, you're hunched over on your side, knees bent towards your chest, lightly pressing against his front. 

his brushes his knuckles against the slope of your cheek, taking in the color of your skin and the slight part of your mouth as you slumber. they slide over the slant of your nose, brushing lightly over your lips. when he stays too long on your bottom lip, your nose scrunches lightly. he pulls his hand away.

kuroo stares, and all at once he thinks about all the paths his life could’ve followed. all the outcomes, all the situations, of each and every decision of every different scenario. and somehow, he’s here. with you. 

and in your own life, he thinks about what could have happened, how you could’ve chosen different. but in every universe, he always thinks that you meet the same end: together in this bed, the bright morning sun crawling into the room you deemed yours, in your new home. maybe it’s one in a thousand, or one in a million. but in this life, it feels like a miracle.

it makes his heart beat faster, rattling the bones in his chest.

you shift then, as if hearing the shaking of his soul. you uncurl, bringing your hands to your face to rub the back of your hand against your nose, and he catches a glimpse of the ring he put on your finger two weeks ago.

before long, kuroo watches your eyes slowly blink open, and the first thing he wants know to see is the happiness he feels when he sees you.

“good morning,” he rasps, reaching forward help you push you hair away from you face.

“good morning,” you greet, voice rough from sleep, then yawn. you blink a little, waking yourself up further, before smiling up at him.

god, he thinks desperately, lovesick beyond measure. how fucking beautiful.

“what time did you wake up?” you ask. kuroo notices that your ringless hand reaches up to card through his hair.

“like, ten minutes ago, maybe,” he says, taking the hand and kissing your wrist. “i lost track; i woke up and i got confused for a sec.”

your brow wrinkles. “how come?”

he grins in that (lovingly) annoying way of his. “i woke up next to the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen."

you rolls your eyes with a lazy smile, but make no move to pull away. “you’re so lame.”

he hums, pulling your hand to his to link your fingers together, seriousness overcoming him. kuroo isn’t the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, but there are a select few who’ve seen the man beneath the smirk.

he never wants to hide from you.

“i’m glad you married me,” he admits with wholehearted affection. “i woke up and forgot where i was, then i just looked around our room and i thought… i’m really lucky to be here.”

your smile slowly falls away, and his heart twists at the way you gaze at him. 

“halfway through getting this room together—our room together,” he continues, pulling your linked fingers together and brushing his lips over your knuckles. “and being here, with you. it… that just made me think about how lucky i really am.

“i just…” he closes his eyes and presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand, his heart honest. “i’m so glad you picked me.”

silence fills the room, comfortable yet unbearable at the same time, and he feels your grip tighten around his hand. he opens his eyes and meets your shiny ones, looking at him with enough affection that it makes his stomach flip.

“i’ll always pick you, tetsuro,” you whisper softly, expression sincere and open. “i love you.”

he shifts so he can pull you close, wrapping his other arm around you and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “thank you,” he says against your skin, his hand searching for yours. the gold band around his finger flashes cold against your skin. "i love you, too."

[corvusblackk]

101 wishes technique

Time ago, I think it was in 2017, I came across this manifestation method on youtube, I just looked for it now and I can’t find any media that talks about it for some reason so I’ll just have to rely on memory and personal modifications.

edit: omg I found it but it’s in italian > video > there are some differences in the method but anyway.

1. Take whatever journal you have, or buy one

When I knew about this method I used a small sized journal so that I could take it with me everywhere and hide it easily if you’re a closeted manifestor like me. You can first type in your notes app, but then you’ll have to write down the end thing on a journal.

2. Think about 101 things you want to manifest and write them down as a list, starting the phrase with “I want”

Example: n1- I want 1.000.000€ in my credit card, n2- I want a red pony, n3- I want to have super speed, etc…

A hundred-one things may seem a lot and they probably are, but you can think about literally anything, big or small, even just a random drive in mcdonalds from mom, or a castle in transylvania, and I came across some accounts on here that made posts of “what to manifest for fun” on various topics, such as supernatural, beauty wise, academic, and so on.

3. Read it all over every morning right after you wake up, or every night right before going to sleep

I used to read it at night before falling asleep so that I could detach better from it, but you do you

4. Just wait for da magic to happen

I remember that the man in the video said that, after a thing manifests, you can substitute it with a new wish.

“Rules”

you can do whatever you want of course, loa has no limits, these are just come of the rules i found in the video

- Start each wish with “I want” (not “I wish” or “I would like”, be firm)

- Avoid negative words (no, don’t, un, less, immune, etc)

- Maximum 14 words for each wish (it’s the max time you would have to whisper something in a breath)

- Avoid diminutives (“I want a little house at the beach” > you might find a little barbie house lmao)

- GO CRAZY with the wishes, write seemingly impossible desires, write down everything you ever wished for, they will become reality even faster

Before any little kid attacks me for putting rules over manifestation I’ll clear my throat one time and say “DO WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT” and don’t limit yourself. Those “rules” are just the ones said in the video, and I use them basically for fun, because if you affirm anything against those “rules” you will still get your desired outcome because you’re a god and gods can do whatever the fuck they want without limit, so just sit and relax.

You can see results instantly, some people have received some of their manifestation on the same day, while others took more time, but it all comes down to your assumptions.

This is kind of a Law of Attraction thingy, because you just have to write down your desires, read them every day, and then detach. I hope you don’t hate me for speaking about something non-loassumption, I hope you still love me for who I am.

[rootedinrevisions]

Enough for You: Part 4

SUMMARY: The next day unfolds as a perfect day for you and Tyler, starting with a lazy morning spent wrapped up in each other before venturing out for coffee. You stroll through town together, enjoying the relaxed pace as you shop and explore, savoring the simplicity of each other's company. Back home, the day ends with the two of you making dinner and dancing in the kitchen, the playful moments turning into something more intimate. As the night deepens, the connection between you strengthens, leading to another night spent together, the bond between you and Tyler growing even deeper.

WARNINGS: Fluff. 18+ Smut. (Female Receiving Oral, P in V Sex)

WORD COUNT: 4.9k

OTHER PARTS: PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3

NOTE: There will be a FINAL part coming soon! I have it mostly written and just need to finish editing it. Hope you enjoy! xx

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @callsign-diva I @starshinegrl I @willowpains I @beltzboys2015-blog I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891

(I believe I have everyone added/tagged that wants to be on my tag list! If you have asked and don't see your username tagged, I may have missed your request. Feel free to send it to me again and I'll make sure I get you added!

The soft glow of morning light filters in through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. Tyler stirs first, his eyes fluttering open as he becomes aware of the comforting weight of your body resting against his. His arm is still loosely draped over your waist, holding you close, and he takes a moment to just watch you, the peaceful rise and fall of your chest as you sleep, your face relaxed and serene.

A small smile tugs at his lips as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then another to your cheek. You stir slightly but don’t wake, so Tyler moves lower, his lips brushing the curve of your neck. He lingers there, his kisses gentle and unhurried, each one filled with affection.

You let out a sleepy sigh, your eyes slowly fluttering open as you feel his lips trailing over your skin. A soft giggle escapes you as his stubble tickles your neck. “Mmm… morning,” you mumble, still half-asleep, but already smiling.

“Morning,” Tyler murmurs against your skin, his voice low and rough from sleep. He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his expression soft as he gazes down at you. “Sleep okay?”

You nod, still nestled comfortably against him. “Best sleep I’ve had in a while,” you admit, your voice thick with the remnants of sleep.

Tyler’s lips curve into a small smile, and his hand moves to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face. “Your bed hair’s got a mind of its own this morning,” he teases, his fingers combing lightly through your tousled locks.

You let out a playful groan, burying your face in his chest. “Like you’re one to talk,” you mumble, your voice muffled against him.

Tyler chuckles, his chest vibrating against you as he tightens his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Fair enough,” he admits with a grin, his own hair sticking up at odd angles from a night of sleep. 

You lift your head, your eyes sparkling with amusement as you reach up to run your fingers through his hair, attempting to tame the mess. “There. Better,” you say with a satisfied smile, though it’s clear you’ve only made it worse.

Tyler laughs, shaking his head. “Sure, if that’s what we’re calling it.” He leans down and presses a kiss to your lips, his laughter fading into something softer, more intimate. The kiss is slow and unhurried, the kind that makes time feel like it’s standing still, with only the two of you wrapped up in each other.

When he pulls back, he looks at you with a tender expression, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek. “I could stay like this all day,” he murmurs, his voice filled with warmth.

“Me too,” you whisper back, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. You feel so content, so at peace in this moment—like everything you’ve ever wanted is right here, in his arms.

For the next hour, the two of you stay wrapped up in each other, tangled in the sheets and pillows, sharing quiet conversations and even quieter kisses. Tyler jokes about the night before, teasing you about how you’d hogged the blankets, and you fire back with a playful comment about his snoring. The banter is light, the laughter easy, but beneath it all is a tenderness, a sense of comfort that neither of you wants to let go of.

Every now and then, Tyler leans in to steal another kiss, each one a little longer, a little deeper, as if he’s trying to savor the feeling of having you close. His fingers stroke gently along your arm, your back, your side—wherever he can reach—just to remind himself that you’re really here.

At one point, you shift so that you’re lying on your side, facing him. “What?” you ask with a smile, noticing the way he’s looking at you.

“Nothing,” Tyler replies, his voice soft. “Just... I like waking up with you.”

Your smile widens, and you press a kiss to his lips, soft and lingering. “I like waking up with you too.”

You both fall silent after that, but it’s a comfortable silence—one filled with shared smiles, the soft rustling of sheets, and the occasional kiss, until the world outside your bedroom slowly starts to come alive.

Eventually, the soft warmth of the morning and the comfort of being wrapped up in each other give way to the realization that the day is waiting. Tyler shifts beneath you, pressing a final kiss to your forehead before murmuring, “As much as I’d love to stay here all day, we probably should get up.”

You groan playfully, burying your face in his chest. “Do we have to?”

He chuckles, his hand running up and down your back soothingly. “Unfortunately, yeah. how about we get some coffee?”

That perks you up a bit. You lift your head to meet his gaze, a smile tugging at your lips. “I like coffee.”

With a shared laugh and a few more stolen kisses, the two of you finally untangle yourselves from the sheets. You get dressed, slipping into something comfortable for the day, while Tyler pulls on his jeans and t-shirt, the casualness of the morning suiting the easygoing nature of your time together.

Before long, you’re out the door and walking hand-in-hand to a nearby coffee shop—a small, cozy place you’ve been to countless times. As you approach, the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air, and you both quicken your pace slightly, eager for the first sip.

The barista greets you with a warm smile as you step up to the counter. You don’t even need to ask Tyler what he wants—you already know by heart. “I’ll have an Iced Chai please. He’ll have one black coffee with a shot of espresso,” you say with confidence, then add your own order.

Tyler watches you with a raised brow, a grin forming on his lips. “I see you still remember my order,” he teases.

You flash him a playful smile. “I’ve known it for months now. Don’t think I’ll forget it in a week.”

After paying, you both grab a seat at a small table by the window. The coffee shop is quiet, with only a few other customers scattered about, creating the perfect atmosphere for a laid-back morning. When your drinks and pastries arrive, you hand Tyler his coffee with a knowing look.

He takes a careful sip, and the moment the coffee hits his taste buds, his eyes light up, and a broad smile spreads across his face. “Now this is what I’ve been missing,” he says, his voice full of appreciation. “First good coffee I’ve had all week.”

You laugh softly, pleased with yourself. Tyler sets his cup down and reaches across the table, taking your hand in his. His thumb strokes gently over your knuckles, and his smile softens into something more intimate. “You really do know me that well, huh?”

“I know a few things,” you reply with a grin, your heart swelling at the easy, familiar rhythm you’ve already fallen into with him.

As you both enjoy your drinks, the conversation flows effortlessly, punctuated by the occasional shared laugh. Tyler tells you stories from his latest trip—his coffee mishaps, Boone’s questionable song choices, and the one time they nearly got lost trying to navigate the backroads. His storytelling is animated, and you can’t help but laugh along with him, the sound of his deep chuckle making you feel more at ease than you have in days.

“Sounds like I missed out on some quality chaos,” you say with a smirk, taking a bite of your pastry.

Tyler nods with mock seriousness. “Oh, absolutely. But don’t worry, we saved plenty for next time.”

You take another sip of your coffee, watching as Tyler talks animatedly about the chaos on the road. His comment about “next time” sticks with you, and you raise an eyebrow playfully.

“Next time, huh?” you say, pretending to mull it over. “Who says I’m going back?”

Tyler’s laughter falters mid-chuckle. His smile fades slightly as his brows knit together, his confident exterior slipping just for a moment. “Wait—what do you mean? You’re not…?” He stutters, clearly trying to process what you just said, his usual easygoing demeanor shaken.

You bite your lip, fighting back a grin as you watch him stumble over his words. “I mean, what if I just stayed home? Couldn’t you guys handle it without me?”

Tyler leans back in his chair, still trying to recover. His hand comes up to rub the back of his neck, something he only does when he’s genuinely thrown off balance. “Well, I mean, we could, but—” He pauses, then shakes his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Wait, are you serious right now?”

You hold the straight face for just a second longer, enjoying seeing him a little flustered. But when his expression shifts from confused to mildly concerned, you can’t keep it up anymore. You burst into laughter, finally putting him out of his misery. “I’m just messing with you, Tyler! Of course, I’m coming back.”

Tyler blinks, then lets out a deep sigh of relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he shakes his head with a chuckle. “You really had me there for a second,” he admits, his hand resting over his chest as if to calm his racing heart. “I thought I was going to have to beg you to come back.”

You grin, leaning in across the table. “Well in that’s case…maybe I need to rethink and tell you I’m staying home again,” you tease, enjoying the rare moment of Tyler being thrown off his game.

His smile returns, warm and genuine, as he reaches for your hand again, his fingers lacing through yours. “Well, I’m glad I won’t have to. Seriously though… I’m glad you’re coming back.”

There’s a sincerity in his voice that makes your heart skip a beat, and you feel the depth of his words in the way his thumb brushes gently against your skin. He looks at you with that same intensity, the weight of his feelings behind his eyes, and it’s hard not to feel the warmth spreading in your chest.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you reply softly, squeezing his hand in return.

Tyler’s smile widens, his earlier nerves long gone, replaced by that familiar confidence you’ve come to love. “Good,” he says, “because I wasn’t looking forward to dealing with Boone’s playlist for another week”

After you finish your coffees, you and Tyler decide to venture around your neighborhood. The conversation flows effortlessly. You talk about everything and nothing—recapping the week’s chaos, reminiscing about old memories, and making plans for upcoming chases. 

You wander through quaint little shops, discovering hidden gems and quirky finds. Tyler is attentive, holding the door open for you, laughing at your playful comments about the knick-knacks you come across, and offering to carry your purchases. There’s a sense of rediscovery in the afternoon, not just of the town, but of each other.

You find yourselves strolling through a nearby park, the path lined with trees and dotted with families and couples enjoying the day. Tyler catches your eye as you pause to admire a particularly vibrant tree, his gaze softening with a small, contented smile. When you look back at him, you see that he’s watching you with a look of genuine happiness, like he’s seeing you for the first time in a new light.

There’s an ease in the way he moves beside you, an unspoken understanding that this is where he wants to be. Occasionally, you catch him glancing at you when he thinks you’re not looking, a smile playing at his lips. It’s a reminder of the comfort and joy he finds in your presence, and it makes your heart swell.

As the afternoon light begins to fade, you both continue to explore, savoring the simple pleasure of each other’s company. The day feels like a dream, filled with laughter, shared moments, and a renewed sense of connection.

After a day of exploring, Tyler drives you back to his place. The drive is lighthearted, filled with easy conversation and laughter. When you arrive, he tells you to make yourself comfortable while he showers and changes into something fresh. You nod and settle into his cozy living room, draping a blanket over yourself as you sink into the couch.

A little later, Tyler comes downstairs, looking relaxed in a simple shirt and jeans. He takes a seat next to you on the couch, and you move your legs to make room for him, before resting them gently on his lap. Tyler's hand naturally finds its way to your knee, and you feel a pleasant warmth as he makes himself comfortable.

There’s a moment of peaceful silence, with Tyler’s thumb gently brushing your leg. You glance up at him, and he looks back at you with a soft smile. The evening feels intimate and comforting, filled with the quiet hum of contentment.

Tyler breaks the silence with a casual tone. “So, now that we’re together and all, have you thought about how this is going to work with the team and the traveling?”

You smile, appreciating his straightforwardness. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too. It’s definitely something we need to figure out.”

Tyler looks thoughtful for a moment. “I was thinking, maybe we should just be honest with the team. They’re going to figure it out at some point anyway, right? But we don’t have to make a big deal out of it.”

You nod in agreement. “We should probably just keep it low-key until we’re ready to talk about it.”

Tyler grins, clearly relieved. “Sounds good to me. I just want to make sure we’re both on the same page. I’m in this for the long haul, you know.”

You give his hand a gentle squeeze. “I am too. It feels really good to just talk this out and be on the same page. It makes everything seem a lot clearer.”

Tyler leans back, his smile growing. “Yeah, it does. It’s nice to just be here with you and know we’re figuring this out together.”

The conversation shifts back to lighter topics as you both relax into the couch. You chat about your favorite movies, make jokes about the day’s adventures, and share little stories. The easygoing vibe of the evening continues, making you both feel even more connected.

As the sun sets and the evening light filters softly through the windows, you and Tyler decide to stay in for dinner again. This time, you both agree on a little culinary adventure—something a bit more ambitious than the simple pasta from last night. Tyler suggests trying a new recipe he found, and you happily agree, eager to explore the kitchen together.

You set out the ingredients on the counter, and Tyler rolls up his sleeves and gets ready to help. “Alright, Chef,” he says with a grin, “what’s the game plan for tonight?”

You laugh, handing him a couple of vegetables to chop. “You’re on sous-chef duty. I’m taking the lead, so just follow my instructions and try not to mess things up.”

Tyler feigns offense but takes his role seriously, chopping and stirring with exaggerated care. The kitchen is filled with the sound of chopping and the occasional clink of utensils, punctuated by your playful banter.

“So,” Tyler says as he adds a pinch of salt to the pot, “what’s the craziest recipe you’ve ever tried?”

You think for a moment, a smile playing on your lips. “There was this time I tried to make homemade sushi. It was a disaster. The rice was too sticky, and the rolls fell apart. We ended up with a pile of sushi salad instead.”

Tyler laughs, shaking his head. “Think I’m glad I missed out on that meal.”

As you both continue cooking, the conversation flows naturally from light-hearted stories to more meaningful topics. Once dinner is ready, you set the table and sit down to enjoy your meal together.

After finishing dinner and clearing away the dishes, you and Tyler decide to wind down with some music. Tyler sets up the Bluetooth speaker in the living room while you head to the couch, pulling out your phone to show him the playlist you’ve saved.

“I made this for you awhile back,” you say with a smile. “It’s full of your favorite songs.”

Tyler raises an eyebrow, clearly touched. “I didn’t know you kept track of my favorite songs.”

You laugh, feeling a warm glow at his reaction. “Well, I try to pay attention. Now, let’s see how well I’ve done.”

As the first song starts playing, you both settle onto the couch, letting the melodies fill the room as a background for your conversation.. Tyler pulls you closer, resting his arm around your shoulders. You start swaying gently to the music, feeling the comfort of his embrace.

An upbeat song came on, prompting Tyler to stand up and grab your hand with a mischievous grin. "C'mon."

You look up at him, a confused look spreading across your face. “What are you doing?”

“Dance with me?” He said, continuing to hold out a hand to you.

Laughing, you let him spin you around the kitchen. Your feet easily found the rhythm, and soon enough, you were dancing across the floor, Tyler’s hand firmly at your waist, guiding you with effortless ease. The energy between you felt vibrant, playful, and carefree—just two people enjoying the moment. You were laughing, teasing each other when one of you missed a step, and it felt like everything else had melted away.

Then, a slower song drifted in, the kind that made the air feel a little heavier, more intimate. Tyler’s hand slid from your waist to your back, pulling you a little closer as his movements slowed. He didn’t need to say a word. The moment naturally shifted from playful to something deeper, quieter. You rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, swaying together in the dim kitchen light. The feel of his heartbeat beneath your cheek, the warmth of his arms around you, made everything else disappear.

Tyler’s hand gently moved up your back, his fingertips brushing your skin lightly as if he wanted to memorize every part of you. You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, and the look in his eyes was filled with something you couldn't quite put into words. His thumb brushed softly against your cheek, and without breaking eye contact, he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

It started slow and tender, the kind of kiss that says everything words can’t. But soon enough, the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more hungry. His hands slid from your waist to your hips, pulling you closer against him. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you leaned into him, your fingers threading through his hair. The kitchen seemed to vanish around you, leaving just the two of you, caught up in the intensity of the moment.

Tyler broke the kiss for just a second, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath. “Are you okay?” he murmured, his voice husky but laced with care, as though he wanted to make sure you were right there with him.

You nodded, your breath coming out shaky but full of certainty. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered.

With that, something shifted between the two of you. Tyler’s lips found yours again, more passionate this time.

As the kiss deepened, you felt the world fall away, leaving only Tyler’s warmth and the softness of his lips against yours. Without breaking away from you, Tyler's strong arms slipped beneath you, lifting you effortlessly. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your lips still locked in a heated kiss as he carried you down the hallway toward the bedroom. Every step was slow, deliberate, as though he was savoring every second, refusing to rush a single moment. The way his hands cradled you, steady and gentle, made your heart race with anticipation.

When he finally reached the bed, Tyler lowered you onto it with such care that it made your breath catch. He hovered above you, and for a moment, just looked down at you, his eyes searching yours. "You don’t have to…" he began, his voice low but tender. 

You shook your head, cutting him off with a quiet but firm whisper. "I want this. I want you."

Tyler’s eyes darkened with desire, but his focus never left your face as you pulled him down into another kiss, more urgent now, fueled by the heat between you. His hands slid down the curves of your body, mapping every inch of you as if he needed to commit it to memory. You shivered under his touch, his hands dipping lower to the hem of your shirt, where he began pushing it upwards, his fingertips grazing your skin in the most tantalizing way. The kiss broke only long enough for him to pull your shirt over your head and toss it aside.

He paused to admire you for a beat, before his mouth was on you again—pressing slow, deliberate kisses along your shoulders, your collarbones, and further down your chest. His mouth moved between the cups of your bra, each kiss setting your skin alight. As his lips continued their trail down your stomach, stopping just above the waistband of your jeans, you felt your body ignite with anticipation.

But Tyler didn’t rush. He gave you another lingering kiss, his tongue softly teasing yours as your fingers found the buttons of his flannel. You paused for just a second, smiling to yourself. You loved the way he looked in his favorite red flannel, but you knew you might like it even more off him. You quickly began unbuttoning it, eager to feel the warmth of his skin against yours. Tyler shrugged out of the flannel, tossing it carelessly to the floor, and the moment it was gone, your hands were on him, running down his chest and tracing the hard lines of his muscles.

"Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice husky but full of concern. His thumb brushed your cheek, his gaze intense but careful.

You nodded without hesitation, smiling softly. "I’m sure."

His lips curved into a smile before he kissed you once more, this time with more urgency. As his hands moved lower, they found the button on your jeans, swiftly popping it open. He slid them down your hips, leaving you in nothing but the black lace bra and matching underwear. His eyes darkened as he took you in, his breath hitching just slightly. 

"God, you’re beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with admiration.

Without another word, Tyler shed his own jeans, his belt clattering to the floor, leaving him in nothing but his boxer briefs. He crawled back onto the bed, his lips meeting yours again, but this time his hands were more eager. One hand slipped behind your back, and with a single motion, he expertly unclasped your bra. You barely had time to wonder how he’d gotten so good at it before his mouth moved to your breasts. His warm lips wrapped around one of your nipples, while his rough, calloused hand cupped the other, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Your head fell back against the pillow, a soft moan escaping your lips, and the sound seemed to drive Tyler crazy. "I could listen to that all night," he murmured against your skin, his voice filled with raw desire.

As his mouth worked on your breasts, one of his hands slipped down to the fabric of your underwear, teasing you through the lace. You instinctively rolled your hips, desperate for more friction, more of him. Tyler chuckled softly, pulling away from the kiss to look at you with that familiar smirk. "Needy, huh?" he teased, his voice deep and low. 

Your breath hitched at the thought of him between your legs, and the soft groan you let out gave you away. Tyler’s eyes flashed with desire. Without a word, he moved to kneel at the edge of the bed, his hands firmly gripping your hips as he pulled you down to meet him. In one swift motion, he slid your underwear off, tossing them aside, and then spread your legs with a gentle, yet commanding, touch.

He leaned in slowly, his eyes meeting yours before he delivered one excruciatingly slow lick up your folds. You whimpered at the tease, your body arching toward him, desperate for more. Tyler grinned up at you, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. "Patience, baby" he murmured, before leaning in again, his tongue moving with more purpose now, drawing out soft moans and gasps as he worked, making you feel as though the world had narrowed to just the two of you and the heat building between your bodies.

Tyler didn’t stop until he felt you trembling beneath him, your body arching into his touch as you reached your climax. His mouth continued its relentless work, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until you were a mess of gasps and moans. When he finally pulled away, you watched through half-lidded eyes as he wiped his face with the back of his hand, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

Crawling back up the bed, he hovered over you, his hands gently brushing stray strands of hair from your face as he looked down with concern. "You okay?" he asked softly, his thumb tracing your cheek in slow, comforting strokes.

You nodded, still catching your breath, your body buzzing from the high. "I’m more than okay," you whispered, a breathless laugh escaping your lips. But there was more—something deeper pulling at you, and you met his gaze, your voice soft but full of need. "I want to feel you."

Tyler’s expression shifted, he pulled back slightly, reaching into the drawer of his nightstand for a condom. You watched as he tore open the wrapper and rolled it on, his eyes never leaving yours as he prepared for the next step.

He leaned back down, positioning himself at your entrance again. Slowly, he slid into you, the feeling so overwhelming that both of you let out a low groan at the same time. Your eyes fluttered shut as he pushed all the way inside you, your body adjusting to the fullness, and you felt his grip tighten on your hips, his strong hands grounding you in the moment.

He paused for a beat, letting the two of you savor the closeness before he started to move, his hips pulling back slightly before he began thrusting again. His movements were slow at first, deliberate and gentle, as though he was savoring every inch of you. The sensation was almost too much—each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Your hands found their way to his back, your fingers digging into his skin as you held on to him, anchoring yourself to the moment. Tyler picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming more sure, more powerful, and you couldn’t help the way your body responded to him, your hips rising to meet his rhythm.

The room filled with the sound of your soft moans mingling with his heavier breaths, both of you lost in the moment. You could feel the pressure building again, an undeniable heat pooling low in your stomach. Tyler must’ve felt it too, because his pace quickened, each thrust more urgent, more insistent.

You moaned his name, and that seemed to drive him over the edge. His hands moved to cradle your face as he pressed his forehead against yours, his voice rough with desire. "I’m close," he muttered, his breath ragged.

You nodded, unable to form words as your own climax started to build. The tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you, and when you finally fell over the edge, it hit you like a wave crashing through your body. Tyler groaned as he felt you tighten around him, and a moment later, he followed you, his body shuddering as he found his release, buried deep inside you.

For a few moments, the two of you just stayed there, tangled together, your bodies pressed close as you both came down from the high. Tyler’s forehead was still resting against yours, both of you panting softly, hearts racing in sync. Slowly, he pulled out of you, collapsing beside you with a heavy but contented sigh.

The silence that followed was comfortable, the only sound the soft rustle of sheets and your combined breaths. You turned your head to look at him, a lazy smile spreading across your face as you met his eyes. Tyler looked equally dazed, his chest still rising and falling as he caught his breath.

"That was…" you began, but you couldn’t quite find the right words.

"Yeah," he chuckled softly, reaching over to lace his fingers with yours. "That was something."

For a while, neither of you said anything. You just lay there, basking in the warmth of each other’s presence, that hazy afterglow wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. 

Tyler shifted, pulling you closer so you were curled up against his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you. You could feel the steady beat of his heart, strong and reassuring beneath your ear. As you drifted into a peaceful silence, you couldn't help but smile to yourself. 

[sturniolosass]

I..want you - C.S

In which Chris tries to handle a relationship that he’s no where near ready for, and you can’t have your emotions be toyed with…

warnings: swearing, feeling neglected, uncertainty, hurt feelings, talking stage chris.

ANGST, FAT ANGST!

Chris and I have been in this "talking" stage for around 3 months but the thing is stuff has been getting really serious and its gotten to the point where we've become so attached to one another that we see each other each day and sleep in each others beds, at one point we both spoke on marriage.. not like seriously about it but what we’d like to gain from it..if you get what i mean.

But this pass week somethings been off, I've texted, I've called, I've messaged him through DMs for christ's sake.. No reply..

So today I've been contemplating heading over to the boy's place and seeing what's been going on.. maybe he's sick, maybe he's down in a rut about something... I'm not sure but I need to see what's going on maybe I'll stop by and even find out they're out of internet or something.. I couldn't imagine the reason Chris would ghost me for 3 whole days.. He doesn't even seem like the type of guy to go talking to a bunch of girls, I couldn't imagine him being unfaithful to me, even though we're barely a couple to begin with.. regardless heading over there wouldn't hurt that bad... at least I hope not..

Getting dressed I head out the door sending chris one last message before I head out to his home.

Hey, I'm headed over, i know I wasn't invited so if you don't want me over or something just let me know...

I wait 10 minutes, No response

I grab my keys and head out the door.

Arriving I hop out the car to knock on the door, I'm greeted with Matt. "Yo! what's up, Chris should still be sleep but he's in the basement if you wanna wake em" he greets. "hey, yeah I've been looking for him" I speak. He let's me in walking up the steps to the living room.. I immediately head to the back of the house towards Chris' room, walking down the steps and then the hallway leading up to his door. I hesitate, thinking of all the things that could possibly go wrong when I turn this door knob.. twisting the door knob I'm met with a pitch black room.. a sleeping Chris laying flat on his stomach with one knee bent up north.

I just sit at the edge of the bed contemplating whether or not I should wake him and risk being greeted with his morning anguish.. Being the pussy I am, I just kick off my shoes and lay with him, picking his arm up off the bed and snuggling under it cozily.. He moves mumbling under his breathe inaudible words... I soon fall asleep right next to him..

Chris' POV

I wake up unexpectedly cuddled into y/n confused as to how she amazingly got into my room yet alone my house... Things like this genuinely annoy me, I've started to distance myself for some time now because of how serious we were getting, it began to really freak me out.. from the goodmorning messages to the worrying about my sleep schedule... things started feeling all too real. Don't get me wrong I really, really like y/n but us doing all these lovey-dovey things really scares me... aggravated I head upstairs to find out who the fuck just let her come down here while I was sleeping... Once I'm up the stairs I see Nick and Matt sitting at the dining room table, Nick editing, Matt eating cereal. "ouuu Mr. lover boy is up, how was you cuddle session?" Matt jokes.."Matt shut the fuck up, who the fuck- who just let y/n in my room and when did that happen? I didn't even go to bed until like 4 am so I know it was one of you fucking early birds" I ask angrily grabbing a Brisk can from the fridge.. "wasn't me." Nick blurts.. "who cares, its not like she was gonna murder you.. she said she was looking for you.." Matt explains.. "bro I was ignoring her for a reason.." I shout.. "well she's here now, what were you gonna ghost her something? did she do something?" He asks.. "yeah she's getting all weird and clingy and shit.." .... "like asking 'how my day was' and' if I slept well' and shit" I add... Matt looks at me weirdly "you mean caring about your well being? you're such an idiot" He gets up from the table heading to his room.. "GRAB YOUR FUCKING BOWL IM NOT YOUR MAID" Nick nearly busts my ear drums yelling at Matt.. "dude are you crazy?" I ask heading to the steps that lead to my bedroom.. "shut up bitch" Nick rolls his eyes...

Your POV

I wake up in Chris' bed alone.. not worried where he went I just wait for him to come back down the steps which is where I assume he went, starting to scroll on TikTok I hear Nick scream at the top of his lungs about 'being a maid' which I laugh at..

I then hear Chris heading back down the stairs, I hurriedly sit up fix my hair worried of what he'll have to say to me, then I start to think of what I should say to him.. I don't even know how I feel.. I wanna talk about us moving forward in our relationship but I also need to figure out why he's been acting all distant lately, I hope he doesn't think I haven't noticed.. because to be honest it feels like he has literally blocked me out of his life for the past 3-4 days..

He enters the room I stare down at my feet He walks straight pass me.. I look up. He heads straight into his bathroom... I flop back down on his bed..

Getting up from the bed I decide to make it, fluffing the duvet, tucking the sheets , fluffing the pillows.. Chris has been in the bathroom for around an hour now, I hear music, assuming he's in the shower, I clean a little more. Throwing away Pepsi cans and food casing from last night, I assume.. grabbing dirty clothes off the floor throwing them in his hamper... Suddenly I hear the water and music stop.. shuffling in the bathroom continues until Chris comes out in fresh love sweats and a black tank top, dropping his dirty clothes on the bed near his bed and heading over to his computer, I grab them and throw then in the hamper to which I assume irritates Chris.. "Can you stop!" Chris shouts... "wha-" I start to speak soon being cut off, "like you're being weird leave my clothes where I left then I didn't ask you to clean for me!" He adds.. "I mean what else am I supposed to do? You've been ignoring my presence sense I got here!" I shout back... "go home! I don't fucking know!" He replies.. "what the fuck is even your problem? like what have I even done for you to react this way to me cleaning for you?" I ask genuinely confused... He doesn't respond.. "hellooo" I speak in a questioning manner... “maybe i just don’t like you anymore and don’t need you to be here, i’m starting to even question why i did in the first place like you’re being so fucking annoying and clingy” he huffs… “all you do is bug me now gosh!” he adds…. I look to the ground genuinely hurt… it honestly makes sense, every guy i like always ends up ghosting me and it makes sense why at this point.. i can’t help that i am too “caring”.. apparently that freaks out a lot of guys..

“what so this is how you treat every girl you like? or liked?” i ask.

"I was ready to drop everything and be your girlfriend, in fact my plan today was to come ask you to be with me..I was ready for everyone to know how we've been these pass few months and not give a fuck what any hater or 'fan has to say.." I say holding back emotions.. "I never said I was ready for that, I never spoke on being together like that" He speaks.. "So what? we were just gonna be 'talking' for however long?" I ask. No response.. He just continues to stare at his computer screen. I just look back and sit down on his bed. blinking back tears.. He stares at the computer screen, nothing on it, not scrolling, no video, no music, nothing... Just staring, deep in thought...

We sit in silence for around 10 minutes before I speak again

"Chris?, can you say something? because I've done nothing but try to keep things working between us.. You've ignored me for almost 3 days when before you'd message me everyday 'How are you' , 'come over' , 'when are you free' , 'lets see a movie' , 'lets hang out before I leave for Boston.' " I count off examples.. "I just don’t get how we can go from something so good.. or what I thought was good, to you completely ignoring my existence." I add.. He continues to stare at the blank screen, until.. "I don't know okay, I just feel weird when I'm around you? you're always so caring and shit like that freaks me the fuck out..." he breaks silence. "I never feel this deep of feelings for anything, its fucking annoying.." He adds... "Well, I care about you.. its true, I care about how you slept, I care if you have a nightmare, I care if you feel a cold coming on, I care if you're upset with how much I care... because I genuinely like you Chris, and I don't know maybe this is one of those " right person, wrong time" moments because I feel like we deserve each other..." I speak whole-heartedly.. He just stares at his hands... I stand up.. "maybe in another life then?" I ask headed for the door... He doesn't respond.

I grab the door knob opening it slowly hoping he'd say something to keep me from leaving...n

"wait" he speaks "I wanna try- I want you- I wanna be with you..." he adds looking up from the floor despair in his eyes. "Chris I just don't feel like you're ready for what I'm ready for.." I reply.. “i’m ready- i am” he pleads… “how when just a moment ago you were telling me you were unsure if you even liked me” i ask… He looks down at his hands, I grab my bag and keys walking out of the room..

I hear him get up rushing out the room, he slows down once he sees me standing at the steps. Walking up to me slowly he pulls me in for a kiss, which i kindly reject hoping he gets the hint.. “i like you a lot Y/N.. i just- i need time to understand my self more. i’ve been used and hurt so many times..” he tells.. I just look at his hands in mine.. letting go i turn to walk up the steps… “can i call you later?” he asks.. I turn back “i feel like time apart might actually be what we need at this time, my feelings are genuinely hurt by the things you’ve said to me today” i reply. “i didnt mean it- you know that…” he looks up at me… I walk up the steps walking past Nick and leaving the boys house “bye Y/N see you sometime again hopefully, i know my brothers an asshole” Nick yelps from the dinning table…

I smile walking out the door.. knowing that’s possibly the end of my friendship with the boys…

fin.

A/N: the long awaited.. sorry yall i got busy but here it is!!! Hope yall like Chris and his trust issues!

taglist- @junnniiieee07 @frankdelreyy @ireadstoriss @freshsturns @unbruisable

[s0ulsniper]

albert aretz x gn!reader

warnings: just pure fluff

ask: "Heyooo!! I'm just gonna request an Albert imagine, basically, after hehe gets done recording a video (at like 3 in the morning...) gn! Reader is sleeping and he lays down on their chest and reader wakes up like 2 hours later and sees him and it's all cute and stuff (you can add whatever you want at the end) And I love your writing btw it makes my day ‼️"

synopsis: albert finishes editing, and as exhausted as he is, he falls asleep on top of you.

pairings: albert aretz (flamingo) x gn!reader

a/n: hey hey anon! thanks for such a description, it rlly made it so much easier. also, thanks so much for the kind words it means a lot to me and I hope you have a great weekend !! hope u like it. :)

the late night hadn't gotten to albert the way it had gotten to you, he knew once you sent him a text 4 hours before that you were out like a light in your usual sprawled out from that took across majority of the bed. he loved you for it, yet sometimes he wished he had room.

he was almost finished recording a new horror game that his fans had been beginning for him to play. he understood why while he made it. not only was it a long story game, but it's probably one of the scariest he has seen on the platform.

not enough to scare him though, right?

he clicked out of his Roblox tab and powered off his computer once he stopped the recording, yawning with his arms outstretched.

he had been waiting on this moment for the entire night, finally getting to fall asleep with you even if you didn't notice until the morning. he loved having you with him despite majority of his time going towards creating content and interacting with his fanbase and friends.

he loved how you understood.

his door creaks open once he shuts off the lights, feeling the hours of sitting in his lower back. he knew this nights sleep would last until mid afternoon, potentially more.

his office door closes with a low click. he could see the nightlights poking from under the door, he knew you loved the type of lighting from the lampposts. he had never seen someone fall asleep so quickly.

he opens the door to your bedroom after washing himself up, prepping for the night. his tired eyes fall into your form.

words couldn't describe how beautiful he thought you are, especially now with the blankets barley wrapped over you, and your hair messy from tossing and turning.

he feels his lips tug upwards as he walks quietly towards the bed, prompting himself to collapse as gently as he could on top of you.

the best pillow in the world, he wouldn't choose anything else.

his light smile remained on his face as he drifted off into his comforting sleep, his arm draped over your waist and his head gently tucked under yours.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

your body forces you awake at around 5:00 am, cold from the lack of blanket covering your body.

as you snap back into reality you feel the blanket at your feet, reaching down to grab for it. in the midst of it, you're stopped.

there was a heavy weight on your chest, which was weird considering your cat was sleeping peacefully on your side.

you look down as much as you can and feel Albert's hair poking at your neck, him sprawled out on top of you looking as comfortable and as adorable as ever.

you use whatever strength in you not to burst into laughter at the sight and instead settle on pulling the warm cover onto of you.

albert shifts, and you feel his arm around your waist tighten, a sigh of content leaving his body.

you run your fingers through his hair, who cares about not being able to feel your arm? worth it.

you fall back into your dream filled sleep of whatever you were as before.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

🏷️: @batluvr666 @yeehawbrothers @dogdevourer @ilovelyyoungie

[miraclewoozi]

HIGH FIDELITY, PT 2. -c.hs

getting back on the horse is hard, and failing to hit it off with the cute gamer guy you went for a drink with last night has the potential to be your love life’s last straw. but when up and coming rockstar VERNON unexpectedly canters into your life, you find yourself asking one very important question: do you have it in you to saddle up, one more time?

( PART ONE )

pair ; vernon x fem!reader.  content ; strangers to lovers.  up-and-coming musician!vernon x record store owner!reader.   fluff, angst, smut. (MINORS DNI). warnings ; drinking + alcohol is a big theme pretty much throughout. mentions of past relationship breakdowns. reader experiences a lot of stress, anxiety and feelings of doubt, reflected in self sabotage. mentions of sickness (acute). wc ; 12.2k ( ~38k total. ) disclaimer ; this fic was inspired by rob + liam in the series high fidelity and is therefore pretty influenced by the show. if you’ve watched it, you’ll probably see a lot of similarities! i just felt so drawn to vernon in this kind of role that i really wanted to try and put a spin on it. i do not claim that every idea behind this is original. notes ; been working on this one for a while. hope you enjoy it.<3

smut tags : making out. some groping. some 'first time together' shenanigans. oral (m rec) & ball sucking hehe. he has a big cock because i have an agenda to push. implied f rec oral. implied multiple rounds. PLEASE let me know if i’ve forgotten anything.

The clock on your bedside table reads somewhere between 4:00 and 5:00 in the morning when you resign from trying to fall asleep and force yourself to sit upright, fed up of tossing and turning between your now too-creased sheets, brain stuck in a foggy, hellish limbo. Your mind won’t shut down. Your body won’t rest. Birds are starting to chirp outside and you can hear them clear as whistles through the cheap window that doesn’t quite seal shut to your left. Your eyes squint in preparation as you reach for your lamp and flood the room in yellowish light, drawing your knees up to your chest. 

You’ve spent so much time in your own thoughts that you’ve begun to feel systemically unwell. Your stomach twists and aches, your eyes are so dry it hurts to even blink and there’s an ache behind them that started as an annoying throb, but has grown over the hours into a roaring flame. From the hairs on your head all the way down to your toes, you feel like you could burst. 

You wish you had it in you to cry. To let it out. Keeping this pent up is no doubt making you feel a hundred times worse, and you think it would be nice to feel something other than the endless swooping of the spiral you’re well and truly making your way down. Your alarms are going to go off in a few hours. I can’t let anyone see me like this, you think. I can’t work in this state. 

You throw ideas around in your head for a little while, thumbs tweaking over your phone as messages get typed, edited, deleted, and repeat. Part of you thinks maybe you could manage. Just tough it out and put on a brave face, because actually, what right do you have to be hiding away when you’re the one who ran out one of the nicest guys you’ve ever met? But you just know something will go wrong, even if you tell the boys that you need to camp out in the office for the day. When you need peace and quiet, you can never find it behind that creaky old door. When was the last time you got a full admin day without being called through to help with a problem or deal with a drama? And truly, the idea of facing the world right now makes you feel like you could be sick. 

Sick…

Could you—?

You’ve never enjoyed taking sick days, even on occasions where you’ve really needed them, when you’ve woken up feeling like you’re knocking at death’s door. Sometimes, you swear the guilt that it brings ends up making you feel ten times worse than whatever your ailment is doing to you in the first place. But your exhaustion lets impulse take hold and you’re already sending a message into your group chat with the boys before you can talk yourself out of it, biting the inside of your cheek as the little indicator pops up on your screen. Delivered. 

Well. You’re committed now, whether you like it or not. 

Not feeling so hot. I won’t be in today. Take it easy, I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Sorry. 

You pick your comforter up off the bed and wrap it around your shoulders like an extravagant, well-padded cape, trudging your way through the apartment until you’re stood, barefoot and cold, staring into the bright light of your refrigerator. Somehow in the seconds between pulling the handle and now, you’ve managed to forget what is what that you were hoping to find. More out of spite for how the bulbs are currently bleaching your retinas than because you want it, you pull the milk from its home in the cradle of the door and fix yourself a glass to take with you and put it on the coffee table back in your living room.

Without an ounce of grace, you throw yourself onto your couch: your head rests against the arm of the seat like you’re in the apartment of a sketchy therapist, and you’re wrapped up in your duvet as if it’s a sleeping bag, treating yourself to the luxury of a slightly different ceiling pattern to stare up at. And it could be the change of the room that finally manages to drag you under, or it could be the total fatigue of the emotional rollercoaster that has been your last twenty four hours…

But your glass of milk goes completely untouched as you eventually drift off, either way. 

Of course, it’s not for nearly long enough. Barely an hour after finally managing to fall asleep, your phone starts to vibrate harshly against your chest. You tap at the screen blindly, hoping to shut off what you assume is your alarm; when it’s still buzzing a few seconds later, you reluctantly open your eyes, fighting back a sob. It’s not your alarm – it’s an incoming call. Why would it be anything else?

“Hello?” You grumble, putting the phone on speaker and resting it on the couch cushion next to your head. The energy expenditure of holding the device up to your ear feels mammoth.

“Ohh, you sound terrible.” Seungkwan’s voice sounds more taunting than it does concerned, but you pin that down to a symptom of his over-familiarity. “You’re sick?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“I heard there was something going around,” Seungkwan tells you. Great, you think. Good to know. Now go away. “Yeah – one of my cousins… ah, what did she say…”

“Hey, man, I really-...”

“That’s it. She said she was love sick.”

You sigh so hard you think it’s a miracle you don’t pass out.  

“Don’t–”

“You better make sure Vernon gives you plenty of Vitamin D, today,” he harps on. “It’s quite the disease. I heard it can really–”

“Seungkwan!” You snap, finally, grabbing your phone and barking straight into the microphone. He doesn’t need to know that you’re stretching the truth to its absolute limit, but you certainly won’t let him keep believing that you’re calling out just to get laid. “Knock it off, okay? I’ve been awake all night.” 

(You suppose you should be glad that that much really is true.)

He falls silent, and you don’t know if he totally believes you, but a few breaths later, you hear his voice through the speaker again. He’s softer, this time. Quieter.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, hesitating a moment before he goes on. “Try to get some rest, all right? I’ll swing by after work and check in with some food, and… if you need anything, just text me?”

You’re immediately overcome with guilt at the sharp change in his demeanour, and it does nothing to settle the way your insides are writhing inside you. You clear your throat and pull your duvet up to cover your face, squeezing your eyes tightly shut. 

“I will,” you mumble. “I’m sorry – thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. You can hear the front door to his own apartment slam shut and his breaths pick up as he starts to rush down the stairwell of his building. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.”

“Hey–” he rushes, before you can hang up the call. “Rest up. Run a bath, drink plenty. Love you.”

You cringe a little, but not enough to stop you from saying it back. Sort of. 

“Yeah. You too.”

Nobody could ever accuse Seungkwan of not being a man of his word. As irritating as he can sometimes be, as determined as he is to get on your every last nerve, you’ve never known him fail to come through on a promise. 

Not long after 6:30pm, you hear a series of knocks at the front door of your apartment. You’ve managed to squeeze in odd shifts of sleep throughout the day and though your head is still in a mess, you feel significantly less irritable than you were this morning. Cleaner, as well. One of your (several) naps took place in the bath, where you laid there and let the hot water draw some of the anxieties clean out of you to float towards the ceiling amongst the lavender-scented steam. 

In the knowledge that Seungkwan’s expectations of you are quite literally zero, you don’t bother to fix the one leg of your sweatpants that’s rolled up before you heave yourself off the couch and go to let him inside. He stands in the doorway with a bag of takeout food in each hand, all wind-flushed cheeks and that brilliant smile, and you feel like your stomach settles almost straight away when you see him.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, toeing off his shoes as he comes inside and lets the door close behind him. He sets the bags down on top of the small table by your front door and cups your face in both of his hands, squeezing your cheeks and frowning down at you. “You look awful.”

“Wow, thanks,” you huff, squirming to get out of his grip. “I was going to say I feel a little better, but…”

“You look exhausted,” Seungkwan clarifies, picking up the bags once more and following you through to your living room as you start to walk away from him. “I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t realise you were actually… this bad…”

“This is doing wonders for my ego,” you grumble. “Keep it coming. Really.”

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

“No, no. By all means, continue to kick a girl while she’s down. Super classy.”

Your best friend flops down onto your couch with an exaggerated huff at your petulance. You curl up in the armchair instead, bringing your knees up beneath you. 

“Do you think it was something you ate?” He asks, refusing to give into your bickering and changing the subject matter instead. 

You shrug your shoulders at him. “I don’t-... I mean, it was more of a head… thing?” 

He sucks his front teeth. “What, like a migraine?”

“Sort of?” 

“What do you mean, ‘sort of’?” He asks. “You’ve had a migraine before. Was it that or not?”

“Well, it’s difficult to-... It wasn’t exactly…”

“Okay.” 

Seungkwan interrupts you as you hesitate again, swinging his legs off the couch and resting his elbows on his thighs, leaning as far towards you as he can while still remaining seated. He wrings his hands, plays with his fingers, lips drawn forward in a stern-looking pout. 

“I thought something was up this morning on the phone, but I didn’t wanna push it because you sounded mad. Now I know something’s wrong with you. What’s going on?”

You swallow hard and cross your arms over your chest, dropping your gaze away from Seungkwan’s very intense one. 

“Nothing,” you lie. 

“Bullshit.”

“Seungkwan!” 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, tipping his head forward and running his hands through his hair. He’s never been a coddler, always one to prefer the tough-love approach: it’s no surprise that he doesn’t appear any softer when he looks back at you. “But we both know that’s crap.”

You can feel your pulse starting to quicken the longer he stares you down. It’s as if he’s burning two great big holes into your head, laser-beams where his pupils ought to be. He’s the master of the hard stare, and you know he won’t move until he hears the truth. 

Maybe I should just tell him. Maybe it’ll help…

“Look, I don’t care how famous he thinks he’s gonna be, if Vernon upset you last night, I’ll kick his ass myself.”

And there are the alarm bells. In hindsight, maybe you should’ve seen this coming; it’s not that far of a reach, and given the few facts that he actually knows, you can’t blame Seungkwan for jumping to this conclusion. It’s quite effective in triggering you to speak up, too. (You think that maybe, this was on purpose. Attack where you’re likely to defend. He knows you like the back of his hand.) In an instant you’re sitting upright with your feet firmly on the floor and you’re shaking your head at him like a dog trying to get itself dry. 

“No, no, no, back it up,” you rush. “It’s nothing like that. He hasn’t done anyth-... God, it’s not him.”

“It better not be,” Seungkwan tells you. His voice still has that dark edge to it, and you’re not sure how exactly to stamp it out. “I’m serious. If he’s done anything-...”

“He hasn’t,” you say more firmly. After a couple slow breaths, you clasp your hands together, swallowing your pride. “The food’s gonna go cold. Go grab a couple glasses and-... whatever else from the kitchen—”

“Only if you tell me what’s happening,” he says, slowly pushing himself up to stand. 

You don’t assent with words, but you don’t have to. You look up at him and nod a couple of times and that’s all he needs. Seungkwan strides off through the doorway, leaving you to shakily exhale away the stress that is once again squeezing at your lungs.

Once the containers are laid out on the table, food is divided up, utensils are handed over and he’s poured you each out a glass of soda, Seungkwan sits back on the couch. He doesn’t prod you, or ask you again – he doesn’t need to. You know what he’s waiting for. Even so, he allows you a few mouthfuls of your dinner first: seeing as this is the first substantial thing you’ve eaten all day, you silently thank him for the generosity.

“All right,” you say, gulping down a few mouthfuls of your drink to re-lubricate your throat. “Okay. Fuck – you’re gonna wanna make yourself comfy for this.”

The only way he moves is to pick up one of the food cartons and settle it on his thigh. Oh, how you wish you were joking. But if he really doesn’t want to heed your warning…

“You know I went on that date the other week?” You ask, biting the inside of your cheek. Seungkwan nods at you, lifting a helping of noodles out of the carton.

“With the hitter and quitter,” he confirms. “I remember.”

“Right,” you say. “Well – okay, wait, no. That’s a bad start. He didn’t do anything either.”

“I mean…”

“Not the time.”

He lifts his free hand up in surrender and gestures for you to continue as he slurps his food into his mouth. You clear your throat, bouncing one leg so rapidly that the decorative candle holder on your mantelpiece starts to rattle. 

“So… it was before the date. I was on my way to the bar, walking down past-... that convenient store. You know the one Chan keeps going into ‘cause he’s got the hots for the person who works there on a Friday night? Yeah, I was walking down that way. Actually running on time for once, and-...” 

You falter, sucking a breath deep into your lungs. It causes your next words to come out more strained than they ought to. 

“I ran into Jaehyun...”

Seungkwan swallows just in time to prevent himself from choking on his mouthful of food, but his eyes still shoot wide and you think his chest convulses a little bit anyway. His is a name you haven’t mentioned in a while, but he clearly hasn’t forgotten who it belongs to.

Because, well… how could he ever forget? 

Your ex-partner. Jaehyun.

The ex-love-of-your-life, Jaehyun.

The man who asked you to marry him after three and a half years of dating only to leave you, heartbroken and alone, six months later because he wanted to travel the world and there was too much that you couldn’t bring yourself to leave behind, Jaehyun. 

How could Seungkwan forget when he had been one of the people who helped drag you through what was not only the worst break-up, but one of the worst times of your entire life? 

Aside from the other week, it’s been… nearly eighteen months since you saw him last. Almost a year since you let yourself talk about him. Even sitting in your own apartment with a box full of your favourite food in your hands, a sense of dread chills you from head to toe just going so far as to say his name. But you’ve started, now, so you might as well finish.

“…right outside that stupid fucking store.”

Your voice cracks when you say it and you hurry to set your dinner down on the floor to free up your shaking hands. You cup them over your mouth, closing your eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths. It helps enough for you to be able to continue, even if you still feel a bit like you’re drowning.

“I thought he…” Seungkwan starts, putting his own food down and slipping off the couch. He comes to sit on the arm of your chair and puts a hand around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “When did-...?”

“Yeah, uh… apparently he moved back a couple weeks ago,” you swallow, leaning into your friend’s embrace. 

Seungkwan looks down at you and you look up at him, all misty-eyed and drained. There’s more. He knows there is, but now he waits for you patiently, giving you all the time in the world to get through this and to let it out and to lean on him. He doesn’t butt in. The quiet feels worse than the talking. 

“He’s with someone now. They, uh— they met in Paris. Just over a year ago.”

Seungkwan finally dares to make a noise and breathes out heavily, so loud that it’s almost a groan. 

“Y/n,” he sighs, tightening his hold around you. “Shit – I’m so sorry,”

You shrug, staring across the room to where your record player sits on top of a low cabinet, lid open, table collecting dust. 

“For months, I sat here feeling… fucking, sorry for myself,” you say, barely above a whisper. You swallow around the lump in your throat and shake your head. “This whole time, refusing to get back on the horse ‘cause I thought maybe-... but he was-…”

The room goes quiet again as you lose the words you want to say and Seungkwan just rubs small circles against your arm. The problem is that you know this doesn’t explain why you called out of work today. It doesn’t explain what happened last night, and you’re not sure where to begin with that either. Especially seeing as the last time your best friends saw you and Vernon, the sparks flying between you were nigh-on visible. 

“I thought I was handling it, you know?” You sigh, leaning harder into Seungkwan’s soft sweatshirt. “Like… yeah — it hurt… but I was okay? I guess. And then Vernon fucking… kissed me last night—“

“He— what?”

“Hang on — no, he… I wanted him to.” You fumble with a thread hanging off the sleeve of your t-shirt as you talk. Why is this all so difficult? At the same time, why does it feel so juvenile to say out loud? “I just… I don’t know…”

Your wall clock tick, tick, ticks away in yet another painful fall of silence. 

“How bad was he?” Seungkwan asks when you struggle to elaborate. 

You assume this is an attempt to shatter the gloomy atmosphere and lighten your mood a tiny bit; it works, you suppose, because despite yourself, you laugh drily. Not without nudging your shoulder into his ribs, though. He deserves it, and you won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that it does make you feel a little better.

“He wasn’t,” you groan. “Don’t—… you’re such an ass.” 

He pulls himself away from you at the sound of your laughter and moves to sit on the edge of your coffee table instead, careful not to disrupt any of your food while keeping himself close enough to you that he can hold both of your hands in his and soothe his thumbs over your palms.

“You freaked out on him, didn’t you?” 

He sees straight through you and truthfully, no part of you is surprised. No part of you tries to fight it, or reject his assumption, or even question why that’s the first explanation he leapt to. You just nod, looking to where your best friend’s fingers are currently the only things holding you together. 

“Ran out his apartment like the building was gonna burn down,” you sigh, still laughing but harshly now. He squeezes your hands gently, urging you to look up at him. You do, slowly. “It’s ruined everything.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Seungkwan tries, narrowing his eyes at you when you scoff your obvious disagreement. “No, seriously. Anyone can see the poor guy’s got it bad for you.”

“Even if that’s right, you didn’t see his face,” you say. “God, he isn’t gonna wanna look at me ever again.”

“Have you spoken to him today?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Maybe if you explain what happened–”

“Oh, sure,” you snort. “‘Hey, Vernon. Sorry for running out on you like a lunatic yesterday. I ran into my ex recently and when you kissed me, it reminded me of being with him and I got freaked out and had to dash. Hope you don’t mind.’ God.” 

You try to draw your hands back but Seungkwan just holds onto you tighter. “We’ll workshop it,” he says firmly. “Do you like him, or not?”

“Seungkwan–”

“That wasn’t an option.”

You scowl at him. “It’s not that easy.”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

“Yes,” you stress finally, groaning through it. “Yes – I do.”

Seungkwan’s face lights up for a second, his eyes sparkling, lips lifting. You’re half expecting him to say ‘I knew it’. Half expecting him to try and be all deep and philosophical and a little bit motherly, as he sometimes does, especially when you’re upset. He’s always been a sucker for a happy ending. But this isn’t a happy ending, you remind yourself, squaring your jaw. It’s past that, already. It isn’t going to happen, you just know it. 

“Stop being so fucking hard on yourself,” he tells you, squeezing your hands one last time before he lets go and moves back over to the couch so he can finish eating before his food goes cold. “If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.”

You’re not sure what’s in the air right now, but this has been one of the busiest weekends that you can remember. Both yesterday and today, almost as soon as the store opened, your first handful of customers came through. Apart from about an hour around lunchtime, you don’t think there have been any periods of time where you’ve not had someone milling around the shelves. It makes a nice change, really, from some of your weekend shifts – hours at a time where the dust starts to settle and hardly anyone disturbs the bell above the front door. But this means you’ve been in full customer-service mode basically all day, and you’re starting to feel exhausted from keeping up the persona.

Still. There’s only an hour or so left — you can push through, and when you get home, there’ll be a nice, hot bubble bath with your name written all over it.

The bell chimes again just as you finish serving a group of teenage girls. You watch them scurry away, excitedly giggling about their new albums and you look towards the door with a smile already plastered on, all ready to greet the new customer until your eyes lock with theirs.

A ‘hey, how’s it going?’ stops somewhere midway up your throat, a pathetic little ‘huh?’ sound escaping you in its place. You’re frozen all of a sudden; you and the man who just came in both stand perfectly still, staring at each other like a pair of bunnies in headlights. It takes you forever to register the strap wrapped around his fist, the purse that hangs just below his grip. My bag, you think to yourself, but the voice that narrates your thoughts is hushed for the first time ever, too. Everything in your head gets sucked away into a little vacuum. The only thing left is him.

“I-… thought you might want this back.” Vernon breaks the quiet first. Your throat runs dry. In a flash, the noise in your brain is as loud as it’s ever been and in amongst all the chaos of thoughts and questions and apologies, you can’t pick out the words you actually want to say. 

He slowly unravels the strap from around his hand and takes a few steps closer to you, inching towards the counter. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he hurries to assure you. Your heart aches for how reserved and nervous he looks. It doesn’t suit him. You hate it. “It’s okay. I’m… really sorry, about the other night. I didn’t mean to—” A deep breath. “I’ll see you around.”

Vernon lays your bag so delicately on the wooden surface that you could be forgiven for thinking he was handling an explosive. Then, he takes one, two, three steps back, before turning and heading to the exit.  

“Wait—” you call out to him, finding your voice at the most critical time, right as his fingers curl around the door handle. “Wait—, please.”

He spins back around to face you as you slip out from behind the desk. His left brow lifts higher than the right but otherwise, he gives nothing away. He doesn’t even say anything as he stands there, pushing his hands deep into his pockets. 

You swallow around the golf ball sized lump taking residence in your throat and clasp your hands together in front of you, wringing and twisting and accidentally popping one of your knuckles in the process. “I shouldn’t have run out on you like that. It wasn’t fair.”

Vernon chews this over in his mind but ultimately just shrugs his shoulders at you. What is there to say? He surely agrees, but he seems so adamant to ensure you don’t feel bad about it happening that he just… says nothing. Again. It’s kind of maddening, even if you fully get why. 

“No, I mean it,” you try again. “It wasn’t you. It’s nothing you did.”

“We really don’t have to do the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing,” Vernon offers, his cardboard-like posture softening. There’s even a little bit of a smile on his face, you think — but it’s not the kind of smile you’ve grown used to seeing on him. It doesn’t reach his eyes; he looks kind of like someone who has read their cards and accepted their fate. “Seriously. It’s okay.” 

“It’s not,” you stress, stepping closer to him again. You sigh deeply. There’s something almost relieving about the position you find yourself in. You suppose this really is crunch time; it’s now or never. “Can we… talk? About everything?”

“What? Here?” Vernon asks. 

You glance around the store, at the few people doing a very poor job of pretending to be minding their own business, and frown. He’s right. This isn’t the time, or the place. The problem is, you have a feeling that if you send him away, he may not decide to come back and listen to you. In his defence, why should he? He’s already done more than the decent thing and brought you back that which you abandoned in his apartment; several of your previous conquests would have shoved the bag and its contents either in the trash or the back of a closet somewhere. This is more than you could have hoped for. 

You hold a finger up to him and ask him to stay where he is, and though he looks a little bewildered at the gesture, he ultimately doesn’t move. You rush off out the back to the storeroom where you banished Chan an hour ago, on account of his raging hangover and your low tolerance for his whining about it; you’re genuinely surprised to find him working, and actually alphabetising the records you got in a few days ago like you asked him to.

“Hey. Can you do me a huge favour?” You ask, not announcing your arrival and subsequently scaring Chan out of his skin. He jolts as he hears your voice and claps a hand to his chest, exhaling hard. You don’t entertain his dramatics, though. There’s no time. “I need you to close today.”

“Huh?” He asks, still acting as if he’s trying to catch his breath. “I thought–”

“Please.” You wave him off, knowing he’s about to ask about the task you gave him. “We can look at this together tomorrow. You did great. It’s just an hour – is that okay?”

He chews the inside of his lip, almost looking disappointed. To be fair to him, he did look like he was in a groove when you appeared, but he doesn’t argue with you as he puts down the record in his hand and picks his phone up off the table to his right, silencing the catchy tune that was playing while he organised. 

“Of course it is,” he says, holding his hand out for your keys and starting to walk towards you. “Everything okay?”

“It-...” you start, faltering as you place the store keys in his waiting palm. Your default response was about to be ‘it’s fine’, but you’re trying harder these days to stop pretending, especially around him. So you swallow, nodding your head, flashing him a tight lipped smile. “I’m about to find out.”

“Oh? Is it…?”

A brief pause later, not before cringing at how predictable you’ve apparently become, you say, “yeah.”

Chan claps you on the shoulder as he skirts his way around you, leaning in to give you a sort of side-along hug on his way. You stretch your arm across his waist and pull him closer for a moment, trying to drive home how much you appreciate this. He doesn’t comment on the uncharacteristic display of affection, and you want to find out why, but Vernon isn’t going to wait around for you forever. 

“Go get him, tiger,” Chan whispers.

“I owe you, big time,” you promise. 

He winks at you before he disappears through the door and you follow him briefly, but as he does a round of checking in with your customers and making sure they don’t need any help, you hurry off to grab your jacket from the office.

Vernon is exactly where you left him when you come back out into the storefront, hands unmoved from where he stuffed them into his pockets earlier, rocking back and forth on his toes and looking around from wall to wall. You think perhaps he took your request slightly too literally and the fact that even his feet are in the same position as before you left is reminiscent of a puppy commanded to stay, but if anyone here is at liberty to start poking fun, you think that it certainly isn’t you. Instead of trying your luck, you lock the office door and walk up to him, returning his polite, yet slightly awkward smile.

“You’re not, like, super busy right now or anything, are you?” You ask him. 

His brows crease and his eyes shift side-to-side before they land back at you. He shakes his head.

“Did you maybe wanna… take a walk?” 

Vernon nods this time, still not moving or even pulling his hands out of his jeans. His elbows are locked out and the length of his arms means his shoulders are raised quite some way. He could not be more uncomfortable looking if he tried, but he doesn’t say no and nothing on his face gives away that he wants to reject your proposition, either, so you’re the one to take that tentative first step towards the door. When you do, he follows. 

You left the store at least ninety seconds ago and still, neither of you have said anything yet. Honestly, it’s taking all you’ve got not to just burst and let it all out; it’s building and building and your stomach feels tight, but it’s less of a knot and more like a tightly-coiled spring. His eyes are dipped to the ground, incredibly aware of every step he takes, in what you realise now are a gorgeous pair of platform boots tucked up beneath his baggy jeans. He’s at least an inch and a half taller than the last time you saw him. 

“Your friend,” Vernon starts finally, pausing before he continues.  “Is he always so… you know?”

“What did he say?” You ask, peeking over to him. Trust Chan to start getting —

He hurries to shake his head. “Nothing. He just… kept looking at me. In a weird way, like…”

“Like he knows something you don’t, and he’s not gonna tell you, but he wants you to know that he knows it anyway?” You supply.

“Yeah— exactly like that.”

“Mm. That’s just… Chan.”

“Huh.”

“It’s worse when they’re together,” you say. He breathes out a chuckle and you feel his elbow bump into your upper arm. The distance he put between you when you fell into step outside the store has reduced, you realise now; you’re not sure when, or if it was on purpose. Did he move closer once you started speaking? Was it just so he could hear you better? Or…

Either way, despite being side-by-side, he still feels a hundred miles away from you. This isn’t enough.

“You get used to them, though,” you add, trying to stay on track. “I swear.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Jokes aside, he still won’t look at you for longer than a few seconds, which tugs at something deep in your chest. Discomfort clings to you, and even if it does seem like you’re making some progress, you can still feel unease radiating off him. A cheap laugh at the expense of your friends who aren’t here to defend themselves won’t fix that which you took a wrecking ball to a few nights ago. This needs to be heartfelt and genuine, and more importantly it needs to come out right. 

But when you open your mouth to speak, still searching your brain for the right way to explain why you acted the way you did, there’s nothing. 

How wonderful would it be for the perfect explanation to just tumble from your lips calmly and evenly, and for it to make everything okay? But the reality is that your throat runs dry as petrol fumes make their way through your parted lips. You hold your tongue again just a second later, sighing quietly. 

You’re starting to feel like a lost cause when Vernon breaks the silence for you, again. He slows his steps to a halt when he eventually says, “so.”

“So,” you repeat, freezing mid-stride as you go completely tense. It’s like you’re staring into oblivion’s wide open mouth. “I-… don’t really know where to start. I’m sorry.”

“The beginning’s usually pretty good?” He offers.

You nod. “How much did you want to know?”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with telling me.”

If anyone on this Earth deserves a medal for their patience, it’s Vernon. You still haven’t turned to face him yet, your eyes fixated on the traffic signal some fifty yards away from you and you’re pretty sure if someone poked you too hard, you’d shatter into a million tiny pieces. But, as impossible as it seems all the while you try to get your thoughts in a reasonable order, you manage to swallow your nerves. 

It’s crunch time. It’s now or never.

The explanation you give him is messy. Disjointed. But once you start, it becomes difficult to stop: you end up sparing very little detail and circle back on yourself no less than three times. You tell him about how you were engaged and about the breakup, the run-in, your shitty date, gesturing with your hands to emphasise the most important parts. When you start to move again, Vernon makes his steps bigger until he’s walking alongside you. He never interrupts you. He acknowledges every sentence when you pause for breath. Encourages you to keep going when you fall over your words. 

“… and—... I guess I just lost my head. But it wasn’t your fault.” You swallow hard before you continue, “I’m… really sorry.”

He nods slowly, taking his time to digest everything.

“Don’t be,” he says, lightly bumping into your side. It’s a very small reassurance that he’s not going to walk away, but it means much more to you than you’re sure he meant it to. “I get it.”

“I—”

“No, like. I get it.” 

“Yeah?” You ask, only understanding when you catch the very pointed look in his eyes. 

“For sure.”

Of course, it makes sense. Vernon’s young. Attractive. Nice. Talented. He must have been with people before. Hell, you think he surely leaves a trail of broken hearts everywhere he goes. He gets it. 

“We dated for like… five? Years. Her name was Nari,” he tells you. 

A few seconds later, you watch him start to shrug off his jacket on one side and expose one of his toned arms to you. You’re about to tell him he doesn’t need to air his dirty laundry out if he doesn’t want to when he twists at his elbow; you catch sight of a tattoo you remember having seen the night he wore that black singlet on stage. Two lily flowers blooming up the inside of his bicep. 

It’s so pretty. Intricate. The line work is beautiful, the petals shaded with hundreds of little dots. You wanted to ask about it that night, but you never found the right chance, and now—

Lily?

It takes you longer than you’re willing to admit to join the dots, but when the penny finally drops, so does your jaw. Vernon slides back into his sleeve with a big, entertained smile and a little shrug. 

“Mhm.”

“Oh my God?”

“I know.”

It’s not that you’re laughing, per se. This isn’t your baggage to laugh at, no matter how unbothered Vernon seems to be by what he’s just revealed. But you do rub your hand over your face and cover your lips, shaking your head in disbelief as a breath that contains the edges of a bemused chuckle escapes you. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind; if anything, it appears to give him a boost to keep talking.

“I got that on our third anniversary,” he goes on to explain. “A couple years later… She called it quits. Turns out there was another guy. I thought about lasering it, but… apparently that hurts worse than getting the tattoo in the first place, so…”

“That’s…”

“It’s whatever,” Vernon says, shaking his head. “They’re my mom’s favourite flowers too. That’s what almost everyone else thinks it’s for.”

You haven’t looked back up at his face since the unveiling, not until now. When your eyes meet again, Vernon tilts his head in the direction you’re walking and continues down the street, spinning now so he’s walking backwards but still facing you. “I just mean... It’s okay. I get it.”

The moment you’ve caught up to him and you’re back by his side, he turns to face front, just in time to avoid a collision with a streetlamp. The lingering awkwardness starts to fade to nothing; you can see it in the way he holds himself, and you can feel it in the way you do, too. Everything relaxes. Your neck, your shoulders, your fists. It all ebbs away. 

“It really wasn’t anything you did,” you clarify once more. 

“So you keep telling me,” Vernon quips, tips of his ears turning pinker by the moment. “It’s okay, I swear. Do you want me to walk you home?”

You accept his offer and lead him down a side-street, picking up a completely unrelated conversation now to purify the air. Before you really know it (what was that everyone always said about time flying?), you come to a stop outside your building. Vernon’s sentence fades away when you stop moving; instead he stills, glancing sideways, and you nod confirmation at him with a lopsided smile. 

“This is me,” you say, reaching into your back pocket for your keys. “So…”

“So,” Vernon echoes, glancing around again. “Can I like, lay my cards out, real quick?”

You nod. 

“I like you.” He shrugs, now toying with the leather bracelet around his wrist. “Like, a lot. But…”

But. You feel like you should have seen this coming. But. But. Of course there’s a— 

“I’ve got some shows coming up out of town and I need to see some family, I’m not gonna be here from tomorrow for like, three weeks...”

Oh. 

Well. On one hand, it’s not what you thought. It’s not a flat-out rejection. It’s not a shut down. On the other? You bite the inside of your cheek and look at your hands, playing with your keys to keep them busy. Under any other lens, three weeks isn’t really a very long time at all. You’re pretty sure that the milk you bought yesterday is going to last longer than that. But three weeks… this early into things? 

That’s longer than you’ve even known him.  

“… and I thought, if you wanted — I could… take you out. When I get back. For real. Maybe.”

Oh.

“Like…?”

“Like… on a date,” he confirms, rubbing the back of his neck. “One where I’m not like… fresh off stage and all gross and shit.”

Relief replaces anxiety on both his face and yours when you let out a quiet laugh. 

“I’d really like that,” you say, twitching fingers suddenly still. “Yeah.”

“I’m not asking you to like, wait around, or anything,” he says as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, fumbles with it, and just barely manages to soften the fall with the toe of his boot before it lands screen-up on the concrete. “We’ll just see how it goes. And it gives you some time to… deal with things. Whatever you’ve gotta do.”

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest as he bends low to pick his phone back up, smoothing his thumb over the small scuff on the protective case. It seems remarkably undamaged otherwise. 

“And if you’re still interested, then…”

“Interested?” You ask with a small grin. 

“Aren’t you?” Vernon asks.

“I—...” You think about playing coy, but when he’s been so open with you about where his head’s at, it feels so silly and childish to bother pretending. That playful ‘I might be’ gets swallowed back. Instead – “Yeah. I am.”

“Cool. Then we’ll figure it out. At your pace, okay?” 

“Okay.”

He grabs his earphones out of his other pocket, slides one in, and is about to step back away from you when you do something you don’t really expect yourself to. Something you’ve never done to a man you can barely even say you’re ‘seeing’. You close the space between you and, as if to lock in your words, push forward onto your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you,” you say when you fall back down to your heels. If he wasn’t so dumbstruck, you feel like he’d be about to ask what you were thanking him for; as it stands though, he’s frozen, blushing, and the only reason you can tell he’s still alive is because he can’t stop blinking at you. “For… giving me another chance.”

He still can’t quite find his voice, so Vernon just shakes his head, clearing his throat. (No need, he wants to say.) Alas, his lips just open and close soundlessly.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks,” you supply for him. He takes in a deep, mind-clearing breath and nods his head.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

You see the apples of his cheeks lift as he presses his thumb against his phone screen and restarts whatever song he was listening to when he walked into your store. A brilliant smile consumes his face. It only grows as he turns away from you and walks off down the street. 

For a second, you think it’s all very smooth. Movie-like, even.

Then, he stumbles over a crack in the pavement. When he glances back to pray you didn’t watch it happen, he catches you snickering into your fist. He shakes his head and continues on, leaving you to fumble with your key in the lock before you finally let yourself inside.

You overslept. 

Sort of. You heard your alarm go off straight away but you might have snoozed it, and when you heard it sound for a second time, you turned it off completely, telling yourself that you just needed one more minute. You just wanted to rest your eyes for a few more seconds. There wasn’t any danger of you going back to sleep.

Twenty minutes later, you practically fell off your mattress in a panic when you realised that there had, in fact, been a big fucking danger. 

You were still able to wash up well and make it to work on time, but you had to sacrifice your morning coffee stop after seeing that the queue at the register was going to take too long. For years, you’ve refused to consider yourself to be the kind of person who relies heavily on a caffeine kick first thing in the morning, but today? It’s barely ten thirty and you’re seriously flagging: like you’ve never known what energy is, like you’ll never feel it again. 

(You blame the fact that when you first looked at your phone today before rolling back over, there was no ‘good morning :)’ text to entice you out of bed. But you’re trying really hard not to think about why that is, nor why it was such a deciding factor.)

So, when the bell above your shop door jingles and you’re forced to stand upright (a change your back doesn’t thank you for when it has to readjust from the previous hunched position you had adopted over the countertop), you groan quietly. Nonetheless, your tired eyes crease at the corners as you smile at whoever it is that’s come across the threshold.

After a second, your eyes refocus; when you can finally make out their features, it’s as if someone gives you a shot of adrenaline.

“Oh my God,” You say breathlessly, brushing your hair back and moving to stand up fully unsupported. “I thought you weren’t back until Friday?”

“Change of plans,” Vernon grins, scratching the back of his neck. “We drove through the night. I got home like… an hour ago.”

This is the first time you’ve ever seen him dressed down, and hell, does he look incredible. Gone are the ripped jeans, scuffed boots, the leather jackets and chunky rings. Grey sweatpants and an oversized white hoodie (alternatively: the brightest outfit you’ve witnessed him in thus far) drown him, blurring out his usually so distinct frame. You pin both of these things as the reasons you hardly recognised him when your eyes were refusing to cooperate. Paired with what Seungkwan would call ‘dad-sneakers’ and completed by messy hair and tired, soft eyes?

If you could jump his bones right here, right now… God, you would. 

“But hey, it’s nice to see you, too,” he adds facetiously.

“Quiet down,” you groan, fighting the urge to run over and envelop him in a hug. You’re not sure that he’d mind if you did, but you also don’t quite know if you’re ‘there’, yet. “Obviously it’s good to-...”

His arms, both of which have been stuck behind his back since he arrived, now move around to the front, revealing to you a takeout cup and a little brown box from the coffee shop down the street. 

“Oh, shit. It is so good to see you.”

Vernon laughs, coming closer until he can set them both down on the counter. “If it’s wrong, Seungkwan gave me your order, so.”

You start to wonder how on Earth your employee and your… Vernon managed to have this conversation without you knowing. Does Seungkwan have his number? Did they happen across each other on one of their socials? Did Vernon call into the store while you were out in the bathroom a little while ago and ask? But whatever happened, you quickly stop caring to find out: popping the lid off your cup, the aroma of your favourite coffee immediately fills your senses. It’s so overwhelming that you think you might start to cry.

“Oh my God. You’re the best,” you sigh, wrapping your fingers around the cup and taking a long sip, eyes rolling back into your head. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Vernon laughs, rolling up his sleeves before folding his toned forearms over his chest. “I got you a-... okay, they only had those gluten free brownies in, and I’ll be honest, I don’t know if they taste the same as the normal ones but… like, he said you hadn’t eaten today and I know you said you liked brownies before, — if you don’t like those ones, it’s okay! I can go back, it’s–”

He trails off, cheeks turning pink when you tilt your head to one side and feel your brow go soft. He asks, “why… are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re so cute,” you say, putting the cup down gently so as not to splash your drink all over the counter. 

“Huh?”

“You really didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” Vernon says, shaking his head. 

You almost definitely hear a floorboard creak and quiet shushing sound from just around the corner towards the back room. You don’t call out your eavesdropping friends for trying to listen in on your conversation, though: it barely even crosses your mind. Besides... you can’t take your eyes off Vernon, even if you wanted to. He looks so soft. Like he needs to sleep for a whole twenty four hours, and he must feel like it too, but he came here first. 

“So,” he starts, tapping his right thumb against the inside of his left elbow. (The reason why he came so quickly starts to become evident. He just couldn’t wait to ask.) “You don’t have to commit to anything right now…” The silver of one of his rings glints with every tiny movement. “…but, I was just wondering–”

Smiling at him over the top of your coffee cup, it feels like your heart could burst.

“I was just… wondering… if you’d thought any more about letting me take you out?”

You’ve been texting him almost every day since he left. He’s sent you a hundred and one pictures of statues and cool buildings and nice looking food and the sky, and far more animals than you think you’ve ever actually seen in real life. You’ve spoken to him about your strange customers. What’s going on with your friends. Sent him recommendations for songs that you discovered on obscure albums that you pulled out to play over the speakers. 

One night after one of his shows, he called you. He was a little bit drunk at the time, chilling in his hotel room with a pizza as he informed you that he’d snuck out of an after-party super early but couldn’t get to sleep. With an audible pout, he went on to confess that he was feeling kind of lonely, that he just wanted to hear your voice: one thing led to another and you stayed up talking to him until he passed out at nearly 4 o’clock in the morning.

To put it simply… 

“I’d still really like that,” you say. It’s incredible to you that you can see every one of his features brighten up. 

“Okay,” he breathes, unwinding his arms and pushing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants now instead. “Okay, cool. I’ll… text you later? We’ll figure something out?”

“All right,” you agree. “Now go rest up, okay?”

He laughs as he swears that he’ll go back home and get some sleep, and with that, Vernon takes his leave. You’re once again alone, but this time you have a drink that could only hope to make you feel as energised as he does, and a treat nowhere near as sweet as him. 

You aren’t complaining, though, and neither are the two men that miraculously reappear the moment the door closes again. 

The smile Vernon leaves on your face doesn’t falter for the rest of your day.

You suppose a big part of the reason you haven’t dated anyone in a while is because you can’t stand the ‘talking stage’. That weird little limbo where you’re never sure if it’s too early to make certain jokes, where you’re checking and second-guessing all your texts, where you can’t figure out if someone’s really into you or if they’re just blowing up your phone to pass the time. The awkward small talk. The ‘getting to know each other’ part. The ‘why haven’t they replied yet — was it something I said?’ anxiety. 

Thankfully, with Vernon, that’s not really something you have to worry about. 

While he was away, you learned that he’s the kind of guy who just spews random facts at you in the middle of his day and then forgets to check his messages for three hours. Sometimes those facts are interesting things about himself. Other times, you’ve known him to shoot you a text just to announce [ just found out tigers have striped skin as well as fur. wild ].

(On one such occasion, Chan caught you giggling at your phone in the middle of a quiet Thursday afternoon, zooming in on a picture of Vernon’s heart shaped birthmark. This put a swift end to checking your messages while you’re at work.)

[ btw, im allergic to peanuts ], he told you one evening. Completely unprompted, just after dinner time. You spilled half of your glass of juice down your front in panic when you put two and two together and scrambled to ask him if he was okay. [ near miss, dw about it! just felt important haha ], he replied, and your response was just a picture of your newly stained t-shirt and a request for him to never do that to you again. 

He can drive — at least, he has his licence — but he doesn’t have a car. He chooses public transport, and he tells you that it’s because he likes not having to worry about fuel prices and it’s ‘healing’ to zone out of reality on the train until he reaches his stop. He tells you that he came up with the melody and two verses of one of his favourite original songs on the bus to his parents house, and one time, he dropped a giant cockroach on a class field trip to the zoo because it tickled when it crawled over his palm and he didn’t like it. 

(You later discovered that this piece of information was triggered by the appearance of a large bug in his shower.)

Last night, as you settled into bed after a whole evening of back and forth, he told you that he has all five of the top scores at the piano game in the arcade downtown, and that he has an approximate 75% success rate on claw machines. When you replied saying you hadn’t been to an arcade in about two years, he was horrified. Enough to send 7 broken heart emojis back to back, as individual messages. [ shakespeare himself couldnt write a tragedy that sad ], he said. 

But, harrowed as he was by your admission, it did give him an idea. 

That idea is exactly how you end up standing side-by-side at a basketball shootout game on Friday night. It’s how he ends up winning one of those cute reversible octopuses — true enough, on a claw machine — which he gives to you immediately. It’s how you watch him hunch over a pinball machine for twenty five minutes before he loses his ball, how you end up tied after four games of air hockey, at which point he calls it quits while citing a ‘cramping hand’.

It’s also how you deliver his ass to him in not one, but two rounds of bowling.

“All right — all right,” Vernon laughs, holding both his hands up in defeat as your final ball takes out all ten pins at the end of the alley. “You made your point. Damn.”

You shrug your shoulders as you walk back in his direction, picking up your glass from the table and sipping your soda through your straw. 

(Though the arcade has an entire menu of cocktails, some of which you’ve never even heard of, the thought of navigating an evening alone with him under the influence of alcohol was totally unappealing after last time. Thankfully, Vernon agreed. You quietly think that being stone cold sober has made tonight even more enjoyable.)

“I told you,” you say when you finally sit down. He puts an arm around your shoulders straight away. Naturally, like it’s instinct. Like it’s a position he’s adopted a few hundred times before. “I’m undefeated.”

“We’ll see,” he says, tapping out a rhythm on the ball of your shoulder. “I still think you just got lucky.”

“So,” Vernon says once your leisurely stroll back lands you outside his place, kicking the toe of his left sneaker into the concrete. “What… are the chances that I get a do-over?”

You blink at him a few times, tilting your head. “What do you mean, a do-over?” 

Does he not think this went well? Gods, it’s probably the best first date you’ve ever had, but what on Earth else could he mean by that? Did you say something earlier, and not realise? Has he not had fun? What does he m–

“I got these new coffee beans,” he says. “While I was away — and I figured something out with the-… the machine? So— ”

Ah. There he is.

You smirk at him, patting the outside of his bicep and rolling your eyes. When you glance down, Vernon is pulling out his key, thumbing over the ridges down the one side. He reaches for the door, happy to take your teasing as confirmation that yes, you’ll come up. Yes, he gets his ‘do-over’...

…but leave it to you to fall for the world’s dorkiest rockstar. 

As he slips the key into his apartment door, there’s a steady pressure against the small of your back: the same one that’s been there ever since he gestured for you to step out of the elevator before him. One of his palms rests over the fabric of your t-shirt and you feel weirdly tingly because of it. He gently guides you inside once the door falls open and doesn’t move away when it’s locked again behind him. 

With an anticipatory shiver, you turn around to face him. You make a point to leave just a matter of inches between your chests. To have your eyes soft, patiently waiting.

Vernon’s hands are - for the first time ever - cold when his fingers hesitantly come up to either side of your face, tilting your head up so that he can see you better, unobstructed by any shadows. You gasp at the contrast between them and your flushed, warm cheeks. He swallows thickly at the sound.

“Is this… okay?” he asks, gaze darting between the space separating your eyes from your lips. “We can slow it down, if you want. I just—...”

Your own hands find home against his chest in response, fingers curling into the muscle beneath them. Not harshly, definitely not so much that it could hurt — just enough that it makes him puff himself up a little bigger. Enough to make him square his shoulders as he drags a thumb over the corner of your mouth. 

“Vernon,” you say quietly, pressing him backwards. Balling his t-shirt into your fists, you send him stumbling over his own feet before his shoulders find the wood of the front door. A quiet grunt escapes him on impact, but he just holds you closer. “Shut up ‘n’ kiss me. Please.”

Clumsiness aside, the moment he obediently ducks his head and presses his smiling mouth to yours, you feel weightless. Even when you tilt forward onto your toes to meet him halfway, it’s as if you’re not even touching the ground anymore: clouds beneath your feet have you floating. Everything about it is so very different from the last time.

It’s so much easier. Not just for you, either – you can feel it from him as well. Your collective baggage has been left out in the hall, barricading the door, shutting out the hesitation and nervousness and leaving you together, wholly alone, to just… be.

Vernon gets increasingly more brave as the seconds tick by. When you separate for air, his head tilts the other way, lips a little parted, hot breaths fanning over your skin as he meets you again, and again, and again. It’s the perfect give and take. Firm one second, waiting for you to chase him the next. The soft sounds he starts to make are amplified as his tongue presses against your bottom lip: he tests the waters, groaning into the heat of your mouth when you so happily invite him into it. He drinks you up for all you’re worth. 

One of your hands uncurls from his chest and moves up to his head instead, threading into his hair at the top of his neck. It feels just as soft as it’s always looked, sliding through your fingers. A gentle pull makes him whine. He draws away from you. His lips are pink and shine with the gloss you touched up in the elevator’s mirror, his lids are heavy, his pupils blown, and looking up at him feels like staring into the sun; you physically can’t keep your eyes open, but it’s so hard to look away. 

You tuck yourself into his neck as a compromise, laying gentle pecks everywhere you can reach. His aftershave leaves a bitter taste on your tongue as you touch the tip to a stretch of skin just beneath the harsh cut of his jawline, but the way he shudders and drops his hold down to your waist makes the sting in the back of your mouth all worth it. You only stop when one of his hands sinks lower still and he squeezes at your ass, making your eyes roll back.

He mistakes your surprise for hesitation, though.

“Is this… okay?” he asks, tipping his head back and pressing his crown into the door. Though he doesn’t withdraw his palm from your backside, he also doesn’t pinch at you again. You press your hips backwards, pushing into his touch to encourage him, with this green light he starts to knead at your cheek over the top of your skirt.

“You have no idea how hard it is to keep my hands to myself around you, do you?” You say, slipping one up the hem of his t-shirt as if to prove your point, splaying your fingers out over his stomach. 

He takes a shallow breath, hovering with it in his lungs, holding back from saying something. You get there before he can.

“I want you,” you say certainly, pulling back from where you’ve been nestled into his shoulder so that you can look him in the eyes again. He releases that breath and his face flushes when his eyes find yours, moving both of his hands back up to your waist, tightly gripping at you as if his life depends on it as he nods. 

“I just… I really don’t wanna mess this up,” he adds quietly. “I—”

When you kiss him again, hoping to further assure that you’re just as into this as he is, he reciprocates, sure. You can tell straight away that there’s a little less bite though — a stiffness to him. He doesn’t relax into you the same way he did a few minutes ago. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, falling back onto your heels. Is this because of the way things went last time, or are you going too fast for him? Selfishly, you hadn’t considered that could be a barrier. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want, you know that right? It’s okay.”

You make to step away from Vernon, unwinding your arms from around him to give him some space but he refuses to let you go too far. His hold on you is just as firm as ever.

“Trust me, I want to,” he says. “It’s just–...”

You stay silent, waiting for him to finish. He chews at his bottom lip, his blush deepening right in front of your eyes. To try and steady him, you lay one of your palms over each of his biceps, saying, “Whatever it is – it’s all right.”

“I just… haven’t been with anyone since…”

And when you laugh, it’s not at him (at least, not for the reason a fly on the wall might initially assume). You drop your forehead down onto the muscle of his chest, feeling his heart’s erratic rhythm underneath his clothes as you loop one arm back up around his neck.

“I thought you were about to tell me something awful,” you chide him through your giggles, lightly swatting at his shoulder. He starts to loosen up beneath you, his own body beginning to shake with laughter too. Those strong arms pull you flush against him, the gentle shift of his weight from one foot to another rocking you both side-to-side. “Like– like you were secretly married or you realised you didn’t actually like me, or something. Jesus.”

He stays quiet for another few seconds, but even without speaking, you can feel how he shakes his head above you. You look back up at his face and brush his hair out of his eyes, fingers lingering on his brow when you’re done.

“It’s okay,” you tell him for the third time. The last wisps of anxiety start to fade from his eyes, replaced with the same look he’s been wearing since he showed up at your apartment door earlier this evening. “I don’t care — I promise, I’ll go easy on you.”

The kiss that follows lands hard and with it, Vernon succeeds in wiping your brain empty. You can barely remember what you were even giggling about a few seconds later. 

“Don’t want you to go easy,” he insists against your lips. Then, he’s wallowing up your breathy sighs as he licks into your mouth again, pressing your tongue with his own, reminding you that he’s absolutely not incompetent, just rusty. 

When you make it into his bedroom, confessions and various articles of your clothing forgotten out in the hallway, you separate from each other long enough for you to be able to to lay one hand on his bare chest and push him down onto the mattress. He bounces on the foam and pushes up on one elbow, watching as you sink down to your knees and press kisses down his stomach while your hands deftly take care of the button on his jeans. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” You say to him as he lifts his hips up and lets you pull both his jeans and his boxers down in one sharp movement. 

“M’not gonna want you to,” he laughs breathlessly, pushing a hand through his hair as he kicks the remainder of his clothes all the way off and nudges them away to the side. “But yeah. Okay.”

He looks so pretty like this and you can’t help but think he’s even prettier when the first time you curl your fingers around his length, his jaw falls slack and his fingers curl into the bedding underneath him. You drink him in and he watches you do it; your mouth is watering, desperate to feel him press down on your tongue, and you feel a pull towards him that you’ve never felt towards anyone before. 

“God,” you whisper, shuffling on your knees to get a little closer. 

“Okay?” Vernon asks. He tilts his head to the side and you nod up at him.

“Just… had a feeling you’d be…” you trail off, tugging a few times to feel its thickness in your fingers. Why are you mesmerised by it, a little? What the hell has gotten into you? “But it’s actually bigger, and—”

He laughs quietly and falls back onto the bed, crossing an arm over his eyes. “Shut up,” he groans. 

“Yes, sir.”

You lean towards him and gather saliva on your tongue, dragging it from base to tip before closing your lips around the head. He gasps softly and holds onto his next breath, angling his head back further; you give a satisfied hum and slide a little further down. 

The glide is made smoother by the spit your tongue left behind and that which mixes with his pre-cum in your mouth. As you start to bob up and down, some dribbles out past your lips so you start to move your hand, too, smearing the mess all over his cock. When it bumps the back of your throat — and on assessment, you realise there’s daylight between your lips and your fist — you squeeze your eyes closed and whimper softly, holding him in place while you adjust before you can take him deeper. 

“Fuck— just like that,” he gasps out in a shattered groan when you start to move a little more fluidly, no longer too intimidated by your gag reflex preventing him from slipping down your throat. Your hand and your mouth work in tandem to get him riled. Every sound he makes feels like someone injects lust straight into your veins. When you look up at him from between your dewy lashes, you ponder that you’d watch him fall apart from this angle a hundred times a night forever and still not get bored. 

Your jaw starts to ache from the thickness of having him in your mouth and the way he’s restraining himself from fucking his hips up to meet you tells you that he’s too polite to ask you for more. You suck harshly one last time before pulling away with a ‘pop’, using only your hand to pump his length as you shift down to gently suck one of his balls into your mouth. 

The sound he makes is so fucking melodic. You think he’s made a similar one before when he lifts into a falsetto, and you’ve never felt more powerful than you do right now. Knowing you have someone with such a commanding presence eating out of your palm could really do something dangerous to your ego. It’s a bit of a miracle, therefore, that you recognise his desperate tapping at your shoulder, but the second you feel it you settle back from him, looking up at his impossibly tense abs and his blissed-out face.

You catch on quickly and feel your features split into a grin at the realisation. When it takes him a second, you know it’s because he’s still trying to remember the mechanisms it takes to breathe. Bless his heart. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, pushing himself to sit upright and running a hand through his hair. “It-… fuck, that was so…”

“What happened to ‘I don’t want you to go easy’ huh?” you tease, resting your chin on the top of his left thigh, grinning up at him. 

“I’m gonna come if you keep going like that,” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief at himself. “And trust me — I want to, but…” He swallows hard. “Not yet.”

You nod slowly up at him, starting to get up off the floor. You stop in your tracks when he says, “I’ve gotta taste you first. Please.”

Maybe it speaks too much to the quality of some of your previous lovers, but his desperation takes you a bit by surprise. You blink at him, ignoring how your thighs burn with the position you’ve frozen in. 

“If— that’s okay?” He adds. “I’ve… been thinking about it? A lot. Especially since-”

“Shut up,” you breathe, finally standing all the way up. He shuffles back further onto the bed and you quickly move to straddle across his hips, one hand coming up to hold his jaw in place when you’re in place. “Of course it’s okay.”

You lean in for an impossibly needy kiss, only breaking away when you physically can’t breathe anymore. Vernon’s eyes flutter open at the same time as yours do and as you reach behind yourself with one hand to unclasp your bra, he looks at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.  

(He tells you that you are no fewer than three times before you fall asleep a few hours later.)

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated. there's approx a scene and a half left for part 3 and then we're all done with this baby! stay tuned for that, coming soon.<3 p.s. no i will not apologise to jaehyun, this is what he gets for making me feel insane. thanks !

[vee-beeee]

The Tent

Okay this is a change from dbh LOL

So im figuring out how to write for these characters, and its going to be harder because its 4 people so PLEASE forgive me.

Warnings: Tents, enclosed spaces with 4 boys

Chocobros x reader (can be taken as platonic)

Im sorry for any spelling errors or plot holess

SORRY IF THIS HAS BEEN DONE BEFORE

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You woke up

And then wished you didn't.

It smelt like sweaty socks and boys.

Someone had shoved your back into their front, and was snoring VERY loudly. Another person had his socks in your face, sprawled out over what looked to be Noctis himself. So the case of the smelly socks was solved, that had to be Prompto. You didn't see anyone else in your line of vision, but guessing at how strong and muscular the arm around you was...

Gladio had turned you into his own personal teddy bear.

You gently tried to roll out of his grip, but he grunted and held on to you with a stronger grasp. You sighed and searched for another way out, you need air and to be away from this tent.

You briefly wondered if tickling Prom would wake him up so he could help, but you didn't really want to touch his feet.

So you sat, starting at the tent walls and daring to breathe through your mouth.

You thought about falling asleep again but whenever you tried, Gladio's snoring woke you up just as you were on the cusp of the dream realm.

What a terrible way to start your morning.

Finally, FINALLY you heard someone stir. You turned your body as much as you could in Gladio's grip and saw Ignis's hair over a massive leg.

"Ignis!" you whisper-yelled, hoping to get his attention. He turned around, sleep very much apparent on his face, and looked the entirety of the tent until his eyes caught yours.

"Miss Y/N?" He mumbled, raising an eyebrow at your position, Gladio crowding your back and Proms feet in your face. You had also felt Noctis was really close to your knees, you could feel his hair whispering against your skin. It was ticklish and uncomfortable.

Ignis huffed out a laugh, and you proceeded to beg him to help you.

"Why of course, Dear Y/N. However, I believe Gladio is going to kill me in his sleep if I remove you from his hold. I can help with Prompto and Noct however."

You sighed, sad he wouldn't even TRY not to get killed by Gladio. You watched him as he harshly rolled Prompto off of Noctis, and you were briefly worried that he would awake.

He just snorted and continued sleeping.

Ignis next went to Noctis to gently move his head away from your leg. Of course, Noct slept like a corpse so he didn't even notice. You took your chance to thank him, and ask a favor

"Can you leave the tent flap open I need air please."

Ignis nodded, and exited the tent, leaving the flap open. You started to bask in fresh air and morning light, but then the world turned upside down.

Gladio was rolling over, treating your body like you were an actual teddy bear.

He was now slightly under you, both arms surrounding you with the literal strength of a Titan.

And you were suffocating in his chest.

In ANY other scenario you would have been like "nice" . But in this one you could not breathe. And that was a problem. So you started gently saying his name.

Gladio groaned, but stayed asleep. You tried wrestling your arms out from his iron grip, but no use.

So you did the only thing you could think of.

Loud enough for him to clearly hear you, you poked the bear

"Ooo this book of gladios looks so good, im going to read it while eating chips and wipe my fingers on the pages and fold the edges to mark where i am. Surely he wont mind"

Suddenly you were shoved as his eyes shot open and he released you, sitting up to look around huffing.

"NO THATS MY COLLECTORS EDITION!" you breathed and rolled over as he looked around and found his book by his belongings.

Then he turned to you, brows furrowed and irritation clear on his features for 1. being woken up and 2. having his most prized book threatened.

"What the hell was that for?"

You moved onto your back and stuck your tongue out at him

"You were suffocating me in your pecs, I had to get free some how"

His anger faded into an embarrassed smile, and then a smug smirk.

"A lot of girls would pay real money to get suffocated in these pecs."

You rolled your eyes as hard as you could and he let out a hardy laugh, which accidently woke Prompto.

He snorted as he awoke, leaning on his elbows before asking "uh whats slo funmny?" and then promptly fell flat on his face, going back to his dreamless sleep.

You and Gladio stayed quiet before looking at each other and chuckling quietly. Gladio winked at you and turned to leave the tent. You watched his huge shadow as it moved across the tent, and then it disappeared.

After a couple of minutes, you heard Gladio and Ignis in the camp talking, and saw an opportunity to get more sleep. So you found your original spot and comfy sleeping bag, and settled in.

(A couple hours later)

You woke up, blinking your eyes slowly, feeling that you had gotten a good rest. You looked around and saw the Prompto had seemingly left, and you didn't see anyone else so that must mean Noct left too.

You closed your eyes again, resting them for a moment before you felt something moving around your front. You jumped and accidently smacked your elbow against the something. And that something groaned.

You looked down to see a mess of black hair nuzzling into YOUR blanket.

"Noct?" You leaned on your elbows and he looked up at you sleepily before groaning out a response

"you have the good blankets."

and then he was gone. But luckily, you had help to wake him back up.

Ignis had heard your surprised yelp, and knew it was time for Noct to get up. He had been chatting with Gladio and Prompto about how to pay for more car renovations, but that conversation could be put on hold.

Ignis grabbed a pot and one of his spatulas, before leaning down into the tent flap.

And then he started hitting them repeatedly together.

He saw you cry out and put your hands over your ears, and Noct just sat up slowly and glared at him.

Ignis smirked and left the tent when he saw Noct leaving, and you followed shortly after.

You watched Iggy put his utensils away and you went straight for the middle of the circle of chairs you all had put together the night before. Noct had just slumped down his camping chair when you started talking.

"Why do you guys love piling on me so much when we sleep? Like I wake up and your all over me."

You stood stalk still and waited for a response. You heard groaning and looked over to see Noct open one eye and looking at you.

"Smell nice and warm"

and then he was asleep.

Ignis sighed and walked over to shake him awake and you turned to see Gladio and Prompto nodding their heads. Gladio was the first to say something.

"I think he's right. Your a little babe space heater." You flushed, and he and Prompto laughed seeing your face.

"Yeah and you uhh, kinda smell a lot like roses." was Proms response, and now you watched him go red. Gladio slapped him on the back and Ignis chuckled quietly, continuing to try and wake Noctis up.

So your consensus was to buy more blankets, and an air freshener.

Fair enough.

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

THANKS FOR READING

I dont know if this is cringe or how I did, but I hope I did good on my first time writing these guys.

Hope you enjoyeddd

[simp-ly-writes]

Meeting Mrs. Dekarios

Can be read as a standalone: What is Left by the Lakeside (pt.2)

Pairing: God!Gale Dekarios x Sorcerer!Reader & Tara

Summary: You and Tara travel towards Waterdeep in order to meet Mrs. Dekarios. Your adventures fare well with minimal bumps in the road but what happens when you arrive at the long-awaited home?

Warnings: mentions of sadness and regret.

A/N: got a bit carried away with this one... but my heart needed a feel good moment as I hope yours do too!

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

What is Left by the Lakeside Series (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5) (pt.6) you are here

When you awake in the morning, the sun dripping through the patchwork of your tent, you stretch to meet its warm embrace as you settle further into the covers. The world did not need saving today, so why not save yourself these extra moments?

Little did your sleep-induced mind know that Tara was sitting at the foot of your bed, watching- waiting for you to notice her and the journey that laid ahead north, towards Waterdeep. Tara chuckled to herself, her inner dialogue voicing that of Gale's voice, the memories of him announcing themself once more.

Shaking her head Tara began to paw at your covers, shifting them to fall off your bed only to be stopped by the summoning of a mage hand lifting the sheets back up- much to her disappointment with a small hiss sound escaping herself. 

Looking further around the tent, she saw a few stacks of books in the corner- purrfect~ Making haste by quickly knocking them over, the loud thuds of them all hitting the floor had you up in an instant within a fighting position.

Licking her paw while eyeing your readied form, Tara could not help herself but to make a comment, “You sleep like an ogre after too much ale.” 

“Ouch- Tara, I thought we had something going for us last night” you teased back while rubbing your eyes and settling your hair. 

You watch as Tara rolls her eyes and ruffles the feathers of her wings before addressing you once more, “It is time to head out child; eat, get dressed and say your final goodbyes. Mrs. Dekarios awaits our presence back in Waterdeep.”

“Yes Ma’am,” you say while raising a mock-salute- as you conjure a plat of food on your bedside table and look for a nice set of robes for the occasion. 

“Do you think Mrs. Dekarios would appreciate blue, red, or purple robes Tara?” you ponder to the furry companion, holding out each option for her to see. Tara looks at each with thoughtfulness, waving her paw to cycle through all the options before settling on the purple one. 

“I think she would appreciate the sentiment of this one.”

“Hmmm, yes I suppose-so,” You say while throwing the other two back in the chest. A rush of bittersweet memories flood your head as your eyes cloud over, thumbs rubbing the colour tentatively as the fabric settles across your frame. 

A meal down and now time for goodbyes, Tara sits in the tent awaiting your return as hugs are carried out and a good few slaps on the back leave you staggering from Karlach. Rubbing your shoulder with a few new tears in your eyes, you roll them in with a breath as you motion your hands to wrap up your tent and supplies. 

Bag settled on your shoulders and another floating behind you make your way north towards waterdeep as the sun rises in the sky and the clouds part- marking anew. 

--

The sky had fallen and you had settled into a nearby inn with a quarter of your journey left. You could already see the mountain and the shores from your window as rain trickled lightly down the panes. You squint your eyes to see various creatures flying in the skies as a high castle’s lanterns flickered with the stars. 

Smiling to yourself, it was hard to remember getting lost in a large town- busting with people, smells of new food and adventure awaited you that made it hard for you to fall asleep. Alongside listening to the soft snores of Tara- it had truly been quite the journey for her already as you felt pity for her. 

Sleep found you soundly late in the night as you swear to feel the light caress of the night air drifting through the cracks in the walls and the holes in the floor as you snuggled into the warmth of the covers. 

--

Waking up before the sun had risen, you take your change purse and head a little bit further down the road to find some local merchants. Obtaining some produce and fish for Taras meal you hurry back to prepare the food within your room- eager to surprise your new friend. 

Tara wakes up to the smell of her favorite fish being cooked in the fireplace beside her and the sound of a knife chopping up some greens. Stretching out her body from toes to head and then finally giving the ol wings a good flap or two she settles in watching you work with a light smile. 

“What a wonderful surprise to wake up to, thank you my dear.”

“Thank you Tara, for being here.”

“It was the least I could do.”

“Yet it means the most to me,” you finish the conversation with a relaxed smile accompanying both your faces as you eat before the dying embers before packing up for the rest of your travels.

--

You entered waterdeep from the southern ward, deciding to take the path nearest to the docks as you explored the city in the fresh light of morning. You heard the cobblestone streams clink against your boots as the sounds of shutters swinging open and the rising bustle of the city pumped energy into your system. 

This reminded you of your own hometown, the neighbours greeting one another, the children running off to the schoolyard as parents set up shop for the day and adventurers readied themselves for the seas or shores. 

Tara had found a spot on the floating chest behind you as people stumbled out of the way as to not knock the object or feline. Your robes fluttered in the breeze as wind rushed down the streets and between buildings, the sun now kissing the top of your head as you listened to Taras careful directions to the Dekarios home. 

Those directions eventually led to a guarded estate, settled on the mountain side with a few other homes keeping it company. You saw the various offerings that laid on the doorstep as you gave the wood a careful knock before stepping away and fixing your appearance. 

Looking towards Tara for support, she merely rolled her eyes at your stress and murmured that you were already loved without ever meeting the woman. 

“You told her things about me?!” you hurriedly whispered out to your friend as she gave you a teasing look. 

“Was I supposed to leave the lover of the ambition god out of conversation, hm?” 

“Well maybe-yes,“ you scoffed back as the door flung open and you were met with a staff being pointed towards your chest. 

“ANY DEVOTED FOLLOWERS TO THE GOD OF AMBITION, LISTEN TO ME NOW- YOU ARE NOT TO PLACE WORSHIP ON THESE GROUNDS,” the home protector yells out towards you, their spit being caught on your face for a brief moment as Tara jumps off your supplies and rushes into the home. 

Holding your hand up in surrender, the other one behind you begins to flicker its flames as you ready yourself for a potential attack. “My name is Y/N, I am a sorcerer and past companion to the Wizard Gale of Waterdeep. I am here for an appointment with his mother,” you stressed towards the guard, not wanting your first physical impression to the mother of blood on her doorstep. 

The guard looks at you more closely now, their eyes widening as they glow a slight purple tint and their shoulders caving in before they bow in recognition of your presence. “Sorcerer and Savior Y/N, please hear my deepest of apologies- the lady of the house and the god of ambition have told me of your welcomed presence within the home. I am truly sorry for making you feel as though you were never welcome,” they rush out, sweat dripping from their brow as you wave the flame out from behind your back and offer them an apologetic smile in return. 

“There are no worries to be held, you are doing a good job protecting this estate. I must assume how difficult it has been as of late with the recent ascension and the protection of those closest to the man before,” you state back, motioning for them to rise as you become increasingly embarrassed from their overreaction and title-calling. 

“The compliments you offer are staggering in reality to my work. I thank you but cannot accept these words. I merely work out of devotion to my late friend and his family, please welcome yourself into the Dekarios home,” they bow once more, opening their palms to guide you through the door. 

They later point towards the study were Mrs. Dekarios can be found before leaving with your belongings, “tea is prepared,” you hear Tara call from up the stairs as you observe the space, smiling as you can imagine a miniature Gale running rampant around the house- casting various spells and cantrips that scare the staff and the animals. 

Your heart aches at this fleeting thought as you make your way up the stairs and down the hall, following Tara as she confidently navigates down the floor runner and presses her paw against the door you should open.

Wrapping your hand around the door handle, you give it a light twist before hearing a click and the running of footsteps from behind the wood. Looking down at Tara- ensuring that this is the correct room she simply presses the door and makes her way inside- settling atop a window ledge as arms are being thrown around your torso. 

“My-oh-my! I am so happy that you are here Miss. Y/N, and what a sight you are on my very eyes- not some projection but reality! Oh, what a gift you are in these times!”

The woman squeezes you a little bit harder as you struggle to breath and move your hands to return the hug. Yet before you can do so, her hands move to your cheeks- cupping them while accessing your features with a delicate look and smile gracing her face. Her eyes are shown to wrinkle into her smile lines and small strands of grey hairs fall within her curled brunette locks. A spitting image of the past Gale- your heart leaps as both a chuckle and cry escape. 

Mrs. Dekarios shushes you softly while wiping away your tears with elegance. Her delicate touch as you reeling in all sorts of emotions as her tears join your own. 

“You are truly stunning, darling. How I wish Gale was here now to introduce you to me personally. But I feel as if I already know you from the tales Tara has spoken to me,” she says as she drops her hands to touch the purple fabric of your robe before making her way to a set of couches- motioning for you to sit beside her as she settles a cup of tea into your hands. 

“So do tell me dear, how did you and Gale meet? I would love to hear things from your perspective- let a little old lady like me reminisce on our human account of memory,” Mother Dekarios says, a twinkle in her eye while sipping her tea. You watch Tara sunbathe while contemplating your answer.

╰┈➤ A/N: there is still more story to come, but for now I hope that you enjoyed this chapter :)

What is Left by the Lakeside Series (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5) (pt.6) you are here

[rose-colored-glasses671]

Let The Light In pt. 2

Simon "Ghost Riley" x fem reader

read pt. 1

a/n: yayyyyy! pt. 2 is finally out. After a lot of editing, i'm pretty happy with the final result, and I hope you guys are too. happy reading :)

The smoke from the cigarette billowed out of in front of him, Simon’s nerves relaxing as the nicotine coursed through his veins. This was his one vice that you didn’t like, and especially with the baby on the way, he tried to limit himself as much as he could.

But it was hard sometimes. Most of the time.

The sun peeked up from the horizon and the smell of morning dew wafted over Simon as he took another drag of the cigarette before grinding it out on the ash tray he brought outside.

You looked through the kitchen window, seeing Simon’s broad back to you. He had abruptly woken up while you were getting ready for work and was out of the room before you could ask what was wrong.

You suspected he’d had another nightmare, so you were giving him his space to process it before you went to him. You understood when he needed time to himself, and you didn’t want to smother him. He’d let it be known when he needed you.

Simon stared out at the beautiful array of colors in the sky, contemplating his dream. He had frequent nightmares thanks to his PTSD, but this one was particularly rough. He’d seen visions of Harper, visions he would never wish upon his worst enemy.

Blood, so much blood. Red, red, red. On the walls, on the floor, on his hands. Tears streaking down his face. His little girl’s pleas for help. But he couldn’t do anything. He was utterly helpless.

Simon’s breath grew shaky as he tried to keep his emotions at bay.

He had woken up in a panic at 4:30 am, the visceral nightmare making his breathing choppy. He’d immediately went and checked on Harper, seeing her peacefully asleep in her bed, her chest rising and falling with her soft breaths. His heart calmed at the sight of her safe, but the visions continued to haunt him. Hence the cigarette.

As you gathered your stuff to head to the hospital, Simon walked in through the back door. He looked at you with sleepy yet alert eyes, his hair disheveled from sleep. He walked toward you and you met him halfway, wrapping your arms around his torso in a hug the best you could with your eight months pregnant belly in the way.

“Nightmare?” you questioned, feeling him nod his head as his arms came around you too.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not yet,” Simon replied, his voice gruff. He wasn’t ready to rehash the details.

You reluctantly let go of him, running a soothing hand down his arm.

“I can call in and stay with you,” you offered, wanting to be there in case he needed you. “I have a good excuse since my due date’s coming up.”

But Simon shook his head no, giving you a small, reassuring smile.

“Okay, but you’ll call if you need me?”

“Of course,” he said, appreciating that you didn’t press him on the matter.

You and Simon made your way to the door, kissing goodbye before you left on your forty-five-minute drive to work. You lived on a relatively secluded farmhouse in the British countryside, and the nearest town was a good drive away. You didn’t mind, though, as the sights made it worth it.

After your departure, Simon went about his day, preparing for Harper’s teacher to come at 9. She was still getting accustomed to life, so you and Simon had decided to have Harper homeschooled for the time being. You would eventually transition her to a nearby school when she was ready.

It was discovered that Harper was an orphan, her birth parents having died when she was just a baby. When Simon found this out, you and he had a lengthy conversation about the options. Obviously, she would go up for adoption, but Harper was already doing so well with you guys, and you didn’t want to disrupt her life even more by having her put in foster care. So, you decided to adopt her.

The process was still ongoing, even after four months, but you were excited at the prospect of her officially being your daughter—not that you didn’t already think she was. She was, by all means, your child.

Simon turned on the TV, attempting to ease his nerves by catching up on last night’s Manchester United that he had missed. A steaming cup of his favorite tea sat on the coffee table as he tried to shift his focus to the game highlights, but his mind continued to wander to the nightmare.

At fifteen past seven, he heard little footsteps coming down the stairs. Harper walked over to where Simon was seated on the couch, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her hair was a mess and her PJ’s were askew, signaling that she’d had a good night’s rest.

It was something she struggled with when she first started living with you and Simon, but months of therapy was putting her on the right track, and she was having less and less episodes with each passing week.

“Good morning, my sweet girl,” Simon said as Harper approached him, holding his arms open. She crawled into his lap and found a comfortable position before relaxing into him, her cheek resting against his chest in a way that still gave her a view of the TV. She rather enjoyed watching football with her dad, laughing every time Simon groaned at a bad play and cheering with him for every goal.

“Sleep good?” Simon questioned, to which she nodded her head. Harper still had trouble speaking, her therapist telling you she suffered from selective mutism. Your heart ached at the thought of all the trauma she had been through to get to this point, but you were relieved that she was making good progress.

After twenty minutes of mindless TV, Harper looked up at Simon, patting her belly.

“All right then,” Simon said, letting Harper get down before he got to his feet. “Let’s get some food in ya.”

At the hospital, you clocked in for your shift and got about to business, tidying up your desk, which was often scattered with papers and pens due to the craziness of the ER. You chatted with nurses, looked over patient files, treated those in need, and took frequent breaks due to sore feet and a weak bladder.

The day was going by normally, the ER a little quiet today, thankfully. Well, it was going normally until about 1:23 pm. You were heading back to the nurses’ station after checking in on a patient when all of a sudden you were assaulted by a searing pain in your abdomen and lower back. You breathed through it, huffing out short breaths in an attempt to relieve the pressure.

“You okay, Dr. Riley?” Amanda, the charge nurse, asked at the look of pain on your face.

“Oh yeah, nothing of concern,” you reassured, but just as quickly as the pain had subsided, it resurfaced. This time you were left hunched over and feeling nauseous, and not even a minute later, you felt wetness seep through your scrub pants, fluid gathering in a pool underneath you.

You looked at the pool of fluid, dazed and confused. But only for a second, because you quickly realized what was happening.

“Um, actually, Amanda, if you wouldn’t mind bringing me that wheelchair?” you pointed to the corner where the contraption sat. “I think my water just broke.”

Simon was sitting at the kitchen counter, catching up on reports while Harper and her teacher went about their lesson at the dining table, when his phone rang. Your name flashed across the screen.

“It’s time,” your pained voice reverberated across the phone. “The baby’s coming.”

In an instant, Simon was out of his chair. “Right now?”

“Yes, Simon. Right now,” you wailed, before the line went dead.

“Shit,” he muttered, making his way to the dining room.

“We have to go,” he grunted out to the teacher before getting down on a knee in front of Harper. “Mommy’s having the baby now, so we have to go to the hospital.”

You and Simon had sat Harper down a couple weeks ago to let her know how things would go when her sibling was arriving. It helped reduce her anxiety about the situation, and really, it was just good to be prepared.

As Harper’s teacher made her way out of the house, Simon frantically ran around gathering up the go-bags, his excitement and fear skyrocketing through the roof.

It’s time, your voice echoed through his head. His heart beat at a concerning pace, but he busied himself with tasks to keep the panic at bay. He dialed your sister’s number to let her know in case you hadn’t gotten the chance to call her.

“I’m on my way to the hospital right now,” your sister said in lieu of a greeting, understanding how overwhelmed he probably felt right now. She lived in town so she’d get there sooner than he would and would be able to help while Simon drove there.

He blew out a quick breath of relief.

“Thank you.” And then he was out of the house with Harper.

Like a bat out of hell, Simon sped—reasonably—down the winding roads and onto the main highway that would take him to his destination.

He sporadically checked on Harper, only to see her peaceful gaze on the views outside the window. At least she wasn’t panicking. He’d take any win he could get at this point.

Once at the hospital, Simon zoomed into a parking spot and jumped out the vehicle, almost forgetting to turn it off. He grabbed Harper and the bags, and they both ran inside, stopping to a halt at the front desk.

“Maternity ward,” Simon said, more as a demand than a question. The lady at the desk jumped at the sudden intrusion, but let Simon know the floor.

At the ward, Simon inquired about your room with the head nurse, letting her know he was your husband, then went to find your sister.

“Lily!” he practically yelled at the sight of her dark hair in the waiting room, catching her attention.

“Hey,” she replied, frantically approaching the bedraggled duo, holding her daughter’s hand. “I’ll take Harper, you go. It’s room-”

“I know. Thank you.” Simon then turned his attention to his daughter, getting down to her eye level. “Hey, baby girl. Dad’s gonna go look after mum now, okay. You think you can stay with your aunt and cousin for now?” he asked, making sure Harper felt comfortable with her new surroundings. But she barely listened to him as she absentmindedly nodded her head, engrossed in what her cousin Nina was showing her on her iPad.

Simon gave a Harper a quick kiss before turning around and sprinting in the opposite direction.

2408…2410…2412…2414. This is the one.

Although the hallway was in no way quiet, Simon particularly homed in on your pained howls echoing through the closed door. He noticed his hand shaking as he went to open the door, reminding himself to take a deep breath to steady his nerves.

As soon as he entered the hospital room, he was met with the sight of you lying in bed, your face red and in agony. His eyes instantly met yours, as they often did. You could be in a room with a million other people, and somehow, he’d always notice you first.

At the sight of your husband, you broke down. You were so instantly calmed by his presence that it overwhelmed you.

“Are you the dad?” the OB asked sweetly, to which Simon nodded his head. “Perfect! Mom over here was very distressed at your absence.”

He scurried by your side, and as soon as he was in reaching distance, you leaned up a little and wrapped your arms around him. No words were able to leave you, not just because of the pain but also at the relief of him finally being here.

“I got you, my love,” Simon whispered into your ear, slowly easing you back into the bed.

“Okay, so it looks like you’re about 5 cm dilated right now,” the OB said. “I’ll be back to check on you, but at this rate, you should be able to deliver soon.”

The next hour was a whirlwind, nurses traipsing in and out, Simon’s surroundings a blur of wires and beeps and huffing breaths. When it came time for you to finally deliver, you felt your anxiety coming to a head.

“I’m scared,” you cried, gripping onto Simon’s hand like a lifeline.

“I know, my love. I know,” he cooed, keeping his tone a lot more relaxed than he actually felt. “This is scary for me too. But, hey, it’s gonna be over soon, and then we’ll have a little bugger to take home with us.”

You tried to laugh, tried to let the picture of your little baby in your arms calm you down, but the panic overtaking you didn’t allow that. Deep breaths weren’t going to cut it this time.

Simon noticed this, seeing the fear still glowing in your eyes. He pressed a reassuring kiss to your forehead, that sweet smell of vanilla that always seemed to follow you overtaking his senses. He had to make sure you were okay.

“I am with you every step of the way,” Simon said. “You wanna scream? Scream. You wanna squeeze my hand ‘till it breaks…well, you can try,” he joked with a teasing smirk. “Whatever you need, I will give it you. I’ll take care of you.”

You nodded your head, knowing that every word Simon just said was true. He had never once let you down, and he was a man of his words. Your anxiety wouldn’t fade right away, but you’d let your husband’s comfort overtake you until it did. It’s the most you could hope for.

And after an amount of time neither you nor Simon could gauge, you’d finally given birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl. You had cried with the unending happiness and love when you finally got to hold your daughter, Simon right alongside you as he gazed at his daughter’s beautiful face, and then at yours.

When the nurse had taken her away and told you her weight, you and Simon had laughed. At 4.2 kilograms, she was a little bigger than normal, and the irony wasn’t lost on you. She was, after all, Simon Riley’s daughter.

Back in the recovery room, Simon brought Harper in to meet her sister and was pleasantly surprised at how easily she took to her. You let Harper sit on your bed as you cradled your baby, letting her play with her and take in the new addition to the family.

Harper was beyond excited, if not a little nervous, about her baby sister. But she was gentle and immediately took on a big sister role, much to your delight.

This moment was one for the books. For the longest time, you were Simon’s only family, the only one he could trust and confide in. But now, he had more than he ever imagined he could have.

“Baby cousin!” Nina’s shriek echoed through the room, none of you noticing that her and Lily had come in.

“Okay, now. Be gentle. She’s sleeping,” Lily said to her daughter, following after her. At the sight of your newborn baby, Lily let out an adoring sigh, looking at you with tear filled eyes. “She’s so perfect, bee,” she said, using your childhood nickname.

“I know,” you replied, getting just as emotional as her. “I can’t stop looking at her.”

The baby had blonde hair just like Simon’s, and her small button nose and chubby cheeks were the most adorable thing you’d ever seen in your life.

“Takes after Simon, doesn’t she?” Lily remarked.

“Cheeky,” he said, but secretly loving the fact.

“Sure does,” you stated, secretly loving the fact too. She was a perfect little piece of you and Simon, a testament to your love and commitment to each other.

Much of the day passed with family and friends trickling in and out, sharing in this happy moment with you. And although Simon tried not to let any negativity seep into this joyous moment, he couldn’t help but feel the stinging pain of loss at the absence of his own family.

It was often a hard pill to swallow, the fact that his mother, brother, even his nephew, were gone. That they’d never be able to share happy moments with him again.

But when his baby girl had opened her eyes for the first time, they were hazel. A striking, mesmerizing hazel that were so familiar to him, it almost brought him to his knees. Neither you nor Simon had hazel eyes, but obviously it had skipped a generation.

It was like his mother had sent a piece of her down to him, something for him to take solace in and to know that she would always be with him. That was also the moment you had known what you were going to name your daughter.

That night, when darkness kissed the sky and crickets chirped outside the open window, you broached the subject with Simon.

“What if we named her Margaret?” you asked him as he held the baby to his chest, taking in that newborn scent.

Simon paused in his pacing to look at you, seeing the sincerity on your face. His heart burst like a dam, the emotions he had been holding back flooding to the surface.

And you knew the answer just by the sheen in his eyes.

***

Later that night, when you and the baby were fast asleep, Simon didn’t dare to close his eyes. He gazed at your serene face, a little jealous of how your dreams never tormented you, but at the same time relieved that you didn’t have to go through what he did. Visions of his nightmare mixed with the memory of his daughter’s birth and the liveliness of the room as people came to see her.

His tired eyes drooped, and he was happy. He was so goddamn happy, but he was also restless. And scared.

Would he be able to protect all of you? Would he ever feel normal? Would his trauma continue to burden him, and inadvertently put that burden on you?

What Simon didn’t realize was that you were restless too, your anxiety from before morphing into something else. Anxiety about the future, about raising your daughters, about…everything, it felt like.

You opened your eyes, ready to accept that fact that you wouldn’t sleep tonight, when you noticed Simon sitting up on the couch to your right.

“Si?” You sat up in bed, reaching your hand out to call him over. He complied, coming over to you. He sat at the edge of your bed, a hesitant look on his face. “You okay?”

Simon considered lying. Considered telling you he wasn’t plagued with so many negative emotions so close to the miracle that happened today, because they weren’t supposed to. Right?

“No.” He settled on the truth instead. “I mean, yes. But also no, in many ways.”

“Tell me what’s going on,” you said, reaching up to cup his cheek. You ran your thumb across it, the feeling of his slight stubble something you’d never stop loving.

He smiled, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, straightening himself. “I feel like I should be happier. I am happy, don’t get me wrong. I’m so happy. But I can’t stop thinking about the nightmare.” He described what he saw to you, how he felt helpless. “I’ll never be enough. Nothing I do will ever be a 100% guarantee that you and Harper and Margaret are safe.”

You stared into Simon’s eyes, feeling the anguish radiating off of him.

“Simon, you are enough. You’re more than enough. You are so much more than your ability to keep us safe. A loving husband, a doting father, and most of all, a human being. You have to give yourself a break.” You slid over on the bed, indicating for him to sit beside you. He did so, maneuvering himself to give you ample space.

You rested your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and breathing in the subtle scent of his cologne. “It’s okay to feel doubt. God knows I do. It feels like I go through everyday not knowing what the fuck I’m doing. Every moment I spend with Harper is a moment that’s tainted with the fear that I’m doing her more harm than good.”

“You’re amazing with her,” Simon interjected. “You’re exactly the kind of patient and adoring presence she needs.”

“And so are you, Si. Don’t think for a second that you’re not just as patient with her.” You looked up at him to see him already looking at you. “Who’s been the one to guide Harper through her panic attacks, or plan her lessons with her teacher, or take care of her when I’m not home? It’s all been you. You care about her so much, and she sees that. She loves you.”

Simon contemplated, thinking back to a couple weeks ago when Harper had woken up in the middle of night screaming. Both your hearts had stopped, thinking something horrible was happening. As it was, Harper had had a bad dream, not unlike the ones Simon himself experienced. She was shaking like a leaf and refused to let either of you touch her, and Simon had been the one to help her through the panic attack and calm her down.

“A lot of things are out of our control. But what is in our control is what we do and what we say. It’s a lot of faith to put in ourselves, but that’s what we gotta do,” you shrugged. “Everything else is arbitrary.”

Simon relaxed into you, taking in your words. You were right, you rarely ever weren’t.

When Margaret started crying, he brought her to you, and gazed in wonder as you fed and comforted her. You whispered sweet words to her and held her close, and when she finally went back to sleep, Simon decided he would take this newfound joy he felt because of his family and pocket it. Relive that feeling when nothing else made sense. And he would never stop trying his hardest.

[urf1lterr]

lovesick | pedro pascal [4]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

previous chapter: [3] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 10.6k

status: in progress

author's note: so sorry for the long wait! but i tried making this chapter longggg. i typically have my days off altogether and the rest of the week booked with work/school. i try to post many chapters within my short timeframe (bc im booked af) so pls expect another update soon after this one! sadly, it takes me around 8-10 hours to write one bc its hard to think lol. also, i don't want this to be too long of a series and kinda wanna connect the dots- slowly but surely, ya know? not edited.

"So, he just came knocking on your door at 6am?" Joon questioned, taking a sip of his smoothie soon afterwards. "I can't even wake up that early."

"We had to do that everyday for our last job."

"I woke up ten minutes before I had to be out the door," he shrugged. "Men get ready fast."

"Anyway," you eyed him as he cluelessly did the same, confused as to why you wouldn't look away. "I don't remember him coming."

"Yeah, because you fucking freaked out and hallucinated over Lady Gaga," Jules exclaimed, you automatically cringing just at the horrible memories you've recently faced with that damn cat.

Once she explained what had happened hours after you had woken up, you were disturbingly shocked.

And the fact that your sleepiness was to blame had you going insane- imagine all the other odd things you may had committed while under the covers.

But you will admit you did remember some of that night's events clearly, again like you practically making out with Lady Gaga- although she was the one who licked your face endlessly first.

Mortified just by the thoughts, you will never be able to face Pedro again sanely.

How could you when you recently dreamed about a man 25 years older being intimate with you- that's...confusing. And the worst part of it all was you couldn't say anything to anyone with the fear of being judged or laughed at- maybe both.

The thing was you couldn't quite understand why you had to dream about that. Maybe your time of the month was coming and your hormones targeted the first guy you had nonstop contact with?

No, that would've been Joon.

Attraction may had played a part but Joon definitely had that, Pedro as well but a little different...age-wise at least. There's no way you felt allured for men with bad jokes and rough skin- no offense. Right?

He did text you that same morning he dropped by and commented on how creepy you are half asleep and whether or not you agreed to his 'business' proposal. Not trying to start a conversation you knew you couldn't finish, out of second-hand shame, you just replied a simple:

LOL but busy with school atm to make a final decision- tell ya later

That later still hasn't arrived.

Unfortunately, you forgot to ask him why he made a random visit that morning- but you weren't going to ask him days later. In your mind, you need to avoid him. There's no way you'd be able to act normal after have unholy fascinations about him.

Not that it'll be a problem, you two hadn't seen each other for weeks before your cafe encounter, you're sure you can do it again without him noticing your distance.

It's been about two days since then which meant you didn't have to prioritize so much of your time on homework, you'll just save that for Sunday when it's all due.

"Did you bother to ask him why?" Jules added, turning to you. "He obviously wasn't coming to see me- I barely know the guy."

"You do know him!" you argue as she rolls her eyes. "You literally got mad at me for not recognizing him the first time we met."

"He's a celebrity- everybody knows him," she defends before tilting her head in curiosity. "But you two are oddly close, it's kind of weird."

"No," you shake your head, trying to laugh off her suspicions. "We are casual friends who fan girl over the same things."

People did take notice how close Pedro and you were but it wasn't anybody's fault you two had so much in common. Both of you loved Starbucks, going on hikes- when you weren't lazy, and believe Matt Healy is extremely attractive.

If they have a problem with that they can sue you.

"I see it," Joon adds, jumping up a bit. "Him and I barely talk and we're men- we should be bonding easily!"

"You're...you," Jules cringes, making Joon glare in return. "I can understand why he chooses not to be close to you."

Laughing, you watch as Joon quickly flips her the finger before he continues on with the conversation. "I just feel like he always comes around only to see you, it was pretty obvious since the first time he took us home."

Furrowing your eyebrows, you didn't understand what he meant by that. Pedro offered all three of you a ride home, not just you.

Already feeling done with this topic, you wanted to switch it before things started escalating and freaky theories started unfolding. They had every right to question your friendship, but you were starting to think they might be leading down a road where they may soon develop other impressions as to what your friendship might have been.

Why are you even thinking that? That's so inappropriate to imagine.

"You two are silly, he probably needed my advice on something or wanted to workout," you suggest, their faces showing they weren't fully convinced. "But anywho, did you call Yoongi yet?"

"I don't think that's a great idea," Joon declared, adjusting in your warm sofa. "He's not really a skating kind of guy."

Since it was Friday and you had no plans, you thought it would be a fun idea to be adventurous for once and do something you would never do on a regular basis.

Ice Skate.

Your friends were extremely down with the idea, but you needed a fourth person to make the group complete. Why not a skinny, impatient blonde man who would probably spend the whole night complaining about why this plan was awful?

Right now you could use some other grumpiness in your life.

"Just tell him to go," you beam back, clapping your hands in excitement as you'll soon be able to fall countless of times on the ice. "I'll buy him hot cocoa."

"You better do it or he'll never let that go," Joon states.

After hours of sitting around and blasting random music through your speakers, the three of you were ready to set off on your journey of locating the ice rink.

If it wasn't for Joon's constant whining to stop walking to take pictures of the scenery you probably would've arrived 15 minutes sooner than your actual arrival, but too bad your friend is a nature freak.

"You taking pictures of the pigeons better not be the reason why you're late," you heard Yoongi grumble as the three of you finally found him sitting on a bench near the entrance of the rink, staring directly at Joon who just scoffed.

"I'm sorry if my happiness bothers you," Joon snapped back as Yoongi just stood up from his seat and made his way to your trio.

Grabbing your ice skates wasn't too difficult as the long line seemed to flow by smoothly, but standing on them was a different story.

"I can't do this," you squeal as your hurriedly motion your arms around to find some balance. "I'm falling!"

Yoongi sent you a questionable look as he watched your poor attempts to stay still embarrassing. "We're not even on the ice yet."

Feeling a hand grab a hold on your shoulders and practically drag your feet towards the ice, you glance up to see Jules steadily directing you to face your fears.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

"Are you going to push her in?!" you hear Joon gasp a few feet behind you but you couldn't turn your head as you rather focused your attention on yanking yourself off of Jules.

"It was her idea so she'll be the one going in first."

"Ahh!" you screech, putting all your pressure on your feet to stop her hard pull. Spiraling your ankles in the most crucial ways, you start to lightly slap her arms off you as she continues to fight them off.

One thing about her was she's going to make sure to remind you that this was your idea.

Feeling an arm gently tug you off her grip, you landed on Yoongi's side as Jules whined in return, offended that he ruined her vicious plan. Respectfully, he kept you stable with an arm wrapped behind your middle back as you gripped his other one, fearful she might snatch you away again.

"Why would you do that?!"

"I don't think watching her fall face first on the hard ice would be a fun sight to see," he bluntly returned as Jules huffed. "The sight of blood gives me the ick."

"I was waiting for that moment all afternoon," Jules sighed, disappointed that she wouldn't be seeing you fall- yet.

Waiting for her to walk away to go on the ice, you see Joon follow her before you released your friend, relieved that she wouldn't be partaking in her scandalous scheme just yet.

"You do know how to skate, right?" Yoongi asked, his uncertain eyes on yours as you crazily wave your arms in front of him to rub off his questionable thoughts.

"Do I? Of course I do!" you argue, making your way towards the ice until you were two feet away from it. Putting your feet on the edge, you hesitate as you could feel the cold breeze wrap around you legs. "I'm gonna go now."

"Yippy," he states, waiting at your poor attempts to convince him.

Giving him a thumbs up, you clap your hands together to try to reassure yourself that you could do this, forgetting that he was right behind you secretly laughing.

Taking one final breath, you placed your right foot on top of the ice steadily, trying your best not to make any harsh movements, until you felt a hard jerk on your upper body, making you lose yourself in an instant.

"God, if you don't know how to skate why would you suggest it?" Yoongi grumbled, gliding both your bodies along the ice as he held tightly onto your arms. You were practically skating like a wet dog in front of him, begging with your eyes for him not to abandon you.

"I always wanted to try."

Sending you an annoyed look, you zipped your mouth as his arms were now securing you, closing any gaps there may have been and giving you the ride of your life.

Shutting your eyes harshly, you didn't dare to witness the environment around as you felt the icy wind slap your face the faster you two- or at least by Yoongi's swaying, got.

There were times where he did pretend to lose his balance, causing you to cry in horror and him immediately placing his hand over your mouth by how loud you weaped.

But other than that, you came to enjoy his help as your two other friends rudely abandoned you guys in order to practice their poor attempts of leaping across the rink.

"Okay," Yoongi started, releasing his left hand from your side and keeping you close with only his other. "Now you try on your own."

Fear creeping up in your face, you rapidly shake your head in disagreement and try catching his recent abandoned arm, which he denied. "I can't."

"Can't or won't?" he countered back making you silent.

He did have a point.

"C'mon, it's not that hard. If Joon could do it, you can."

"He's literally on the ground right now," you whine as Yoongi quickly averts his eyes in search of your tall friend, soon finding Joon clutching his knee in pain as Jules records on her phone.

"No."

Sighing, he continues to look around, trying to plan out an idea that would at least convince you to slide a few feet alone without his help until he smirked and met your eyes.

"What would Matt Healy do?"

Widening your eyes, you were taken back by his question.

Only Pedro used that line on you.

And for some reason it felt odd when Yoongi did the same. You shouldn't be bothered by his choice of words...but you were a little.

He wasn't him to be saying it.

"He wouldn't force me to do something I didn't want to do," you reply back, causing him to groan.

"I feel like you just want to be in my arms," he retorted with a grin, immediately making you revolt and fly out of his arms, your bottom hitting the ice hard. "Well that's one way to make you skate."

Feeling immediate pain on the back of your thighs, you just knew you were going to be bruised and swollen the next day. But hey, this technically counts for your workout for the week.

Awkwardly swaying your body around, you couldn't get up off the damn ice. You were sure you looked like a fish out of water by how crazy you were moving.

"Get on your knees," Yoongi commented, causing you to send him a death glare as he lifted his hands up in defense. "It helps you stand."

Or he could just grab your arms and help you himself.

Cautiously following his suggestion, you slowly pull your right leg up and place it firmly on the ice before slowly trying to do so with your left one. As you began to feel satisfied with the weight being supported, you felt your body finally working and lifting up off the ground before he poked your shoulder- making you fall again.

"I'm going to murder you!" you threaten as you stare at him on your back, whole body restlessly laying on the ground in misery as he cackles loudly.

He may have advantage on the ice, but oh man- once you regain your balance off it you were going to end that slender man's life.

"Isn't this just a sight to see," you heard someone exclaim before hands grab your arms and soon lift you back on your feet.

Moving your eyes to the ones in front of you, you burst out in smiles. "Bella! Nico!"

"I take this as my queue to leave,'" you hear Yoongi mumbles but you swiftly grab his arm from his close proximity and halt his plans.

He was not going to desert you now.

"What are you girls doing here?"

Not seeing them for a few weeks didn't make things awkward, but different. It was like catching up with old friends, even though you barely met them less than three months ago.

"Had nothing to do tonight so why not ice skate?" Nico giggled.

Bella examined you up and down before pointing at your head. "My god, your hair grew so long. Has it really been that long?"

Rolling your eyes, you were about to answer her before Yoongi cut in. "No, it's her fake extenstions."

Gasping, you turn your body to him and smack his shoulder as he smacks you back. One thing about him, he's all about equality. You touch him, he touches you- simple.

You don't see the way Nico and Bella exchange smirks to one another before Nico slides in front of you and pulls out her phone. "We should take a selfie! You know, for memories."

Laughing, you agree. You took some pictures with them but never really out of the work environment.

Uncomfortably standing still, Yoongi hastily moves to the side a bit, not wanting to intrude this moment you were having with your friends. He was a pretty sociable person, but only if they had things in common and he fairly knew them.

Yoongi didn't know these two young girls and he sure as hell didn't want to be the one being kicked out of this picture- so why not kick himself out first?

"Where are you going, we need your long arm to get us all in the frame!" Bella exclaimed, motioning Yoongi to move back as he sent her a flustered glance.

"I can just take it with the three of you."

"Nonsense!" Nico argued back, shaking her head as you giggled. "We don't leave people out."

Biting his bottom lip a bit, he scratches the back of his neck swiftly before increasing the speed of his skates to the girl, accepting her phone. "I suppose."

Fixing your posture, you stand behind your friend as he carefully raises his right arm up in the air, positioning the phone that was able to capture all four of you in the frame.

Pulling out the gummiest smile, you bursted out a gigantic grin after seeing the rare radiant expression Yoongi was giving. He was never one to show much emotion so finding him giving in for a picture amused you.

Taking the phone out of his hands, Bella examined the screen before chuckling. "Wow, you've got one adorable smile."

You could've sworn you saw Yoongi blush as he lowered his head while shaking off her compliment, trying to act natural but he wasn't fooling anyone.

He was shy.

Gasping at the sight in front of her, Nico pointed at the concession cart near one of the exits of the ice. "They have hot cocoa! We must get some."

Faking a groan, Bella allowed her friend to drag her away but not before sending you a pout to follow, which you were happy to do. You were freezing to death without even realizing it until you stopped your attempts to skate for the picture.

"I was promised a free cup," Yoongi stated as he was gliding behind you, softly pushing your back as you proceeded to do nothing but allow him to direct you to where your desired hot cocoa was.

Scoffing a little, you shush him as you reached the exit ramp. Jumping off, the two of you slowly waddled to Bella and Nico who were next in line.

"Wait," you start, pausing your footsteps which resulted in him almost falling after slamming to your side. "Shouldn't we ask Joon and Jules if they want one?"

Peeking over your shoulder, Yoongi looks back down to you. "Nah, don't wanna ruin their fun."

Following his recent glance, you could see Joon and Jules in front of one another, both holding hands as they try to catch a faster pace while twirling in big circles.

You were sure they were eventually going to knock a small child over soon.

"Next," you hear the worker call out, sitting behind his register waiting for your arrival.

Quickly walking up, you place your order as nothing else but the hot drinks seemed to interest you. The total came out to be the cost as what four drinks at your local cafe would be, but you shouldn't be surprised since this place was pretty popular to the public.

Pulling out his wallet so fast, you didn't have to process what Yoongi was doing until you caught the view of his credit card as he handed it over to the man in front of you.

"No-" you try intercepting what had just happened by giving your card to the worker who just shrugged as he had already paid for the drinks on Yoongi's card. "Why would you do that?"

"You're too slow," Yoongi bluntly said as he grabbed the two drinks and moved to the side so the next person in line could place their order.

"But it hadn't even been three seconds since he said the total before you handed him the card," you protest.

He handed you your cup, hoping it'll shut you up as he took a small sip from his own. "And?"

Is he being serious? "'And,'" you question as he continued to be unaware as to what you were getting at. "Since the beginning I vowed to buy you hot cocoa."

Yoongi laughed at how stubborn you were becoming. "Vowed? What a great word choice for this scenario, fiance."

Rolling your eyes at his teasing, you hated the fact he was avoiding your question. You knew he did it because he wanted to be a gentleman, but the problem was he didn't want to admit he was one.

Again, he was being shy.

"I see you are kind," you smirk as he gave you a disgusted glance. "Don't worry, I won't tell people you have a heart."

Before he could leave a snarky comeback, Nico and Bella came back in giggles as Yoongi retreated back to his natural state of looking lifeless. "Oh my gosh- we went to get napkins and I kid you not I may have poured my drink on the back of this poor little girl."

Lightly gasping, you widen your eyes as Yoongi confusingly replies back. "May have? You don't know if you did or not?"

Bella makes an accountable face, scrunching her nose in the process. "Okay, I did. But she's the one who ran into me!"

"Well, she was really small and you kind of didn't search your surroundings before kneeing her," Nico exposed, causing Yoongi and you to give each other a concerned look.

"You kneed her?!"

"Only in her side," Bella excused herself, sending Nico a betrayed look. "It wasn't like it was her stomach."

"It practically was...," Nico mumbled but became silent when her co-star eyed her hard.

Coughing uncomfortably, Yoongi caught everyone's attention as he tried to avert the conversation into something that wasn't as horrific as striking a child with hot cocoa and a knee. "We should probably hit the ice again soon before Jules and Joon find out we got these drinks without them."

"Jules is here?!" Bella beamed, searching around for her through the large gatherings of people on the ice. "I missed that crazy lady, she was the only one who would get my coffee order right."

"She told me she would threaten to get the baristas fired if they kept getting it wrong," Nico recalled, chewing her mouth a little. "That's why I stopped letting her take my orders."

Sighing, you looked up in the ceiling in disapproval as you could feel Yoongi laughing his ass off beside you. That was very Jules of her to do.

After another two hours of trying to figure out how to skate, and basically latching onto Yoongi the whole time as Bella and Nico were doing laps around you guys, you finally made it home.

To say you were exhausted would be an understatement- you were drained.

No, seriously. You hadn't worked out this much since Jules and you almost missed the subway two months ago and had to run three blocks to catch it on time.

That day was dreadful, but you were sure if you went to bed you were going to wake up lifeless like a worm.

"I call the shower first!" you hear Jules scream, running to her room in order to grab her belongings but you were faster and instantly made your way to the bathroom, locking the door before she could break in. "You bitch! How dare you steal it with my back turned!"

Grinning evilly to yourself, you wanted to get your night routines over with so you could hit the pillows quickly. Even after taking off all your makeup, taking a very steamy shower, and doing your nightly skin care routine, you were sure you could easily knock out sitting on the toilet if you had the chance.

We all have done it once in our lives.

Opening the door, the steam flows out smoothly as you face your very displeased roommate on the other side, glaring at you. "All yours," you smile, stepping to the side but she roughly pushes you in response, causing you to yelp as you manage to catch your balance midway.

Mental note, burn her eggs next breakfast.

Stepping into your room, you change into an oversized hoodie and sweats before throwing yourself under your covers in excitement.

The moment you've been waiting for all day: sleep.

Closing your eyes, you feel all your senses slowly drifting away from your body as relaxation crept up from all around. It was truly intoxicating how in trance you were.

But of course with your luck, nothing goes as planned- ever.

Wildly jumping up from the loud blaring of your phone, you cover your face in agony as the vibrations and noise cause pain throughout your entire body.

Who the hell was calling you at 10 o'clock at night? This should be illegal.

After taking a minute to control yourself, the ringing stopped. Good, now you won't have to make time to engage in a conversation. Quickly falling back down onto your pillows, it wasn't even ten seconds later before you feel your phone going off like crazy again.

With you eyes shut, you move your hands around your bed until you feel the cool object underneath your pillow. Lazily pressing any button, without batting one eye open, you move the phone to your ear before releasing a groggy, "What?"

"What a lovely way to greet somebody, kiddo."

You instantly freeze, automatically thinking about the vivid dream you had about him, then Lady Gaga, and felt a blush creeping in.

Slowly pulling the phone away, you let out a loud but fast scream before moving it back. How the hell are you going to begin a conversation without thinking about his lips on yours. "What do you want?"

Pausing for a second, you can hear him move around through his end. "Did you just scream?"

It's not like you didn't just dream about him kissing all over your body two nights ago.

"Did you just wake me up to ask me the obvious answer?"

Act like you don't care. Like you are perfectly fine.

He chuckles lightly and you can tell by his tone he was close to passing out too. "Somebody's cranky, is it past your bedtime?" Pedro teased.

You were definitely not in the mood to handle his ridicules at this hour, especially by how nervous he was slowly making you. What did he want?

"Yes," you simply reply before hitting the red button, ending the call and laying your head back on your pillow. Good, just end it before you make a bigger fool out of yourself.

It hadn't even been another ten seconds before your phone was ringing once again. Pulling it up to your face, you let out a huff. What a shocker, it was him again.

"You better have an insanely good reason as to why you chose to wake me up in the middle of my dream," you immediately say as you press the 'accept' button.

Hearing him laugh, you just know he has a sarcastic comment coming any second. "Wake you up? Honey, you're still living your dream talking to me."

Honey.

No, not another nickname for him to call you in future dreams.

Shaking that thought away, you rejected the idea of him being in any more dreams- you forbid it.

Loss at words for a second, you almost let your next words trip over one another before calmly gaining your composure at the incidental choice of your pet name.

"So funny," you reply back, trying your best to sound sane. "Pretty sure I was dreaming of a very shirtless Matt Healy playing 'Please Be Naked' to me."

Why the fuck would you slip that out.

"Are you trying to hint at something?" he smirks, making you press mute and hold your hand over your mouth to hold back the screams you feared would release.

Feeling like your soul was about to leave your body, you couldn't believe he just said that.

Actually, you couldn't believe you would even recommend that song. God, your sleepiness was messing with your mind.

Finding your energy once again, you unmute the call and try to seem unfazed by his last comment. "Yes, that I want to sleep. Goodbye now."

Before you could hit the red button again, you could hear him chanting over the phone to do the exact opposite. "Don't!"

Groaning, you clutch the phone harder in despair. "I am so tired. Don't do this to me, please. I am a girl who values her sleep!" you whine as you hear him continue his light giggles in the background. "If I don't sleep I will die, is this what you want. Are you trying to kill me?"

"I can reassure you I don't plan on keeping you up long," he explains. "And I wouldn't dare wish for your death."

Your heart fluttering, you glare at your chest. "Then what do you want?"

Moving his phone from one ear to the other, he lays in his bed while smiling at his ceiling. "You," he declares, making you widen your eyes as he shuffles around in his blanket. "Tomorrow, let's hang out."

Sitting up against your bed frame, you furrow your brow. "Hang out? For what?" There's no way you will be able to act normal for a long period of time, your weak-self can't do it.

Placing a hand over his chest, he lets out a light hiss in fake hurt by your comeback before continuing. "Can't I hang out with you by choice and not by a work schedule? Unless you're so disgusted by me." That's when he started his fake cries. "I'm so sorry I am not Matt Healy and can't do a great British accent."

Shaking your head, you try to intervene as his ugly cries become louder through the line. "That's not what I meant, stop being dramatic," you complain as he instantly stops while smiling widely. "Is there a specific reason why you want to hang out?"

Taking a deep breath, he fiddles with the fingers on his non-occupied hand. "Does there need to be a reason?"

You pause for a second. He's acting too kind for your liking and it's making you question what his intentions are. In this point of time, you're sure he's going to take that moment to convince you to work with him in Canada.

"With you there's always a reason."

Scoffing lightly, he grumbles. "I just want to go on a hike and need a hiking partner."

Oh hell no, you already did enough working out this evening. You were not about to do that again, that's for sure.

"Yeah, nooo," you exhale lowly. "I already did too much working out with my body if you know what I mean and-"

"I don't know what that means," he cuts you off.

"It means I am going to be sore for days so my body has no strength to walk for more than five minutes," you declare as he falls silent.

After a few seconds that felt like forever, he replies. "Fine," he blankly states. "Have a goodnight, sweetheart."

The warmth as blood began drawing to your face became present as you quickly reply with a simple "night" before ending the call. And for some reason you felt as if you couldn't breathe normally by the pounding on your chest.

What the hell was happening to you. Looking up at the ceiling, you silently pray you don't have a Lady Gaga 2.0 fiasco.

As you were questioning why your heart made you feel as if you were going under cardiac arrest the night before, your body was currently making you feel if you really needed to make that trip to the ER by how tender you were.

It also didn't help that Jules was the one waking you up at the crack of dawn, half asleep with her eye mask clinging onto her forehead.

"W-why are you-" you grumble, rubbing your eyes as you look at the alarm clock near your bedside. "-waking me up at 6:18am? It's Saturday."

She sent you a death glare for assuming she randomly wanted to wake you up for the fun of it as she was the one who was woken up first. "Someone's here for you."

Positioning your body upwards, you squint your eyes up at her. "What are you talking about?"

"Why don't you take a look for yourself," she gritted her teeth, swaying her head towards your door.

Slowly standing up, you make your way to it before sneaking a peak of the view of your living room. That's when you see a very annoying man you were sure you both agreed on the phone last night to not go hiking.

Luckily, he didn't notice your wandering eyes as his were glued to his phone, scrolling through his social media.

What was he doing here? You can't face him without thinking about his body wrapped around yours and his lips doing dangerous things.

Oh no, you truly were screwed.

Lightly shutting your door, you nervously turn back to your roommate who looks displeased. "I told him no."

"No means yes, I guess," she replies, snaking her arms around her body for warmth. "I'm going back to bed."

You could hear her walk out of your room as you frantically begin searching for something warm yet comfortable clothes to wear on this undesired hike. You knew if you tried backing out he would stay until you caved, he was very persistent to get what he wanted.

And what he wanted was for you to get your ass up and exercise.

You were also certain you heard Jules let out a "thanks for the invite" to him before hearing her bedroom door shut.

Running out of your room, you made sure not to look in his direction so he wouldn't see your morning appearance clearly- well he already has but why reveal yourself in this state again?

Quickly brushing your hair, teeth, and washing your face, you change into a baggy green sweatshirt and some black workout leggings before slipping on suited running shoes.

Try to act natural. Give him little attention so he won't speculate anything. You aren't into old men and did not vision him smooching you on your sofa.

"You are so buying me breakfast," you deadpan as you walked straight out of your door, not even daring to wait for him to follow.

Good, be straightforward.

Laughing to himself, Pedro promptly jumped off the couch and jogged after you once you shut the door on him and continued down the halls to the elevators.

Finally catching up, he barely made it through the elevator doors as they were closing to find you leaning against the corner, mad and tired. "Good morning to you, too."

You let out a small cry as you lay your head against the wall in pain from how frustratingly exhausted you were. If one cold breeze hit you outside you were sure you were going to burst into tears.

"Oh, come one," he walks over to you and nudged your shoulder to wake up some more. If he unexpectedly touched you again you were sure you were going to rip his arm off. "In a few minutes you'll be wide awake and fine."

"How dare you assume I'm going to be fine!" you whine, trying to hit his side but he manages to capture your arm and that's when you give up and allow your worn out body to fall on him.

He instantly wraps his arms around you as your head falls just beneath his chin, your eyes slowly closing and your thoughts drifting away as his warmth was making you drowsy.

You tried to stay focus, but your poor state was taking over and you suddenly weren't as anxious as you once were. Being sleepy really made your mind roam.

"Hey, now," he whispers and looks down to see you snuggling up against him. "You can't fall asleep on me. I do not want your security guards thinking I drugged you."

Tightening your arms on how lower sides, you ignore him as you feel yourself easing closer to dozing off by the constant beating of his heart. "Stop," you mumble, clutching your ears softly before positioning your head on the other side of his chest.

"What?" he curiously glances down at you.

"You heartbeat's annoying me," you lightly whine. "It's pounding against my ears."

Pedro was extremely glad you were too tired to process his heartbeat and the bright red tint plastered across his face. Your drained-self definitely saved him from embarrassment.

Finally, the elevator doors opened and you still weren't moving. You were too comfortable to make any effort to walk on your own and if he really wanted you to hang out this morning then he was going to have to find a way to make you move.

And to him, dragging you was his best option yet. But with care.

Delicately keeping his arms secured around you, he gradually walked out with you still engulfed by him, eyes shut and only moving your feet with his pace.

Honestly, you were surprised how much rhythm you had.

Stopping to pull out his car keys, he unlocked his car and opened his passenger side door once you two reached the garage complex. Gently, laying you on the seat, you station you head against the headrest as he buckled you in. "God, I really hope security doesn't report me."

And once he made it to his side and hopped in, he laughed at the state you were in, head instantly bent to your side and legs tangled together in hope to create some kind of warmth. "Adorable."

But of course you were too dumb to not catch that.

You were awoken by a small speed bump and the instant hit of warmth through the heat vents, your eyes slowly glancing around your surroundings. Taking a quick peep at the screen indicating the time, you read that it was almost 7am.

Tilting your head and leaning against the headrest, you lazily stare at Pedro as he continues to drive to god knows where.

"Don't I look so handsome in the morning?" he jokes before meeting your eyes, sending you a warm grin.

And handsome on top of you.

Shutting your eyes tightly, you beg your imagination to please shut the fuck up.

"You mean drastic," you mutter, moving your head to the opposite side, against the window to force some sleep again.

Better to make time fly by faster knocking out where you were sure you wouldn't say anything stupid.

"Hey, no..." he whines, moving his right arm across to shake your chin softly to keep you conscious. "Don't pass out on me again, I'm lonely."

"And I'm tired, deal with it."

Shuffling in his seat, he looks over to see you curling yourself up in a ball with your legs to your knees and arms wrapped around. Not thinking things throughly, he hits the brakes hard for a split second and watches as your body jolts forward before swinging back against his seat.

"What the fuck!" you shriek, propping your body up and facing him in pure rage. "Are you trying to irritate me?!"

"I'm lonely and you're not helping," Pedro calmly states, shrugging as you continue your daggers his way.

You were beyond pissed. How could he think you would be energetic and talkative right now? How could he attempt to make you fly out the window? You could feel your nerves slowly fading away by the fury growing inside you.

If he wanted you awake then fine, you were going to be awake.

Doesn't mean you had to talk though.

Silently sitting up, you stare at the windshield in front of you and watch the cars drive as he continues to spare you a glance every once in a while.

Honestly, your silence was terrifying the fuck out of him. Normally, you would have some snarky comeback or violent punch to return to his evil tactics, but you were doing nothing.

Literally nothing.

And he knows damn well the sights of trees and cars did not interest you.

"Hey...," you feel Pedro lightly poke your side, pursing his lips once he saw your non-existent reaction. "You're not mad, right?"

Ignoring him, you continue your deep stare now onto more trees as you two were getting closer to nature than streets. You must've been out for some time as you barely noticed how far away from the city you really were.

Joon would really love this.

Gradually lifting his arm up, his places it on top of your own and gives it a small squeeze while laying it there. "C'mon, don't ignore me."

As if that would make you stop your scheme.

Blinking slowly, you acted like you paid no attention to his puppy dog pleads as the car was making its way towards an almost empty parking lot, all surrounded by a forest that only had one route starting within an old wooden bridge.

Pulling up to a nearby parking spot, Pedro parked the car before turning back to try and capture your attention but nothing was working.

You were so damn frustrating, it was infuriating. But he was still desperate to gain your attention.

"Are you just going to sit in here all day or what?" he questions as he waves a hand over your face to make you blink.

You didn't and that kind of frightened him. Work of the devil.

"I am going to cry," he warned, swatting his hand over his face to prepare for his fake tears.

Yet you showed no mercy. Sitting there patiently, you inhaled and exhaled softly, causing him to internally flip the fuck out because why were you being so aggravating when the two of you should be walking and pointing out the squirrels fighting over nuts.

And sadly, he was slowly giving up.

"Imagine if I really was crying," he began, offended you did not care one bit. "Really means a lot how unconcerned you are."

But when you suddenly started examining your nails and carefully picking at them is when he totally lost it.

Reaching over to you and moving his arm down your arm, he swiftly intertwined your fingers with his before moving you posture to face him.

His hand was huge.

"No, no-" he started, pulling a face as you gave him a blank stare back. Act natural. Pulling your shared hands in front of his chest, he sulks. "-please, for the love of whichever god you believe in, or if you're an atheist- for the love of you, please talk to me."

Watching him beg for forgiveness has always been funny in the past, but his pleading for attention now makes you feel bad.

"If you talk to me I will buy you breakfast and a very delicious milkshake that will make you extremely happy for the rest of the day," he continues, using his free left arm to wrap around you as his right one still clutches onto your palm.

He's so warm.

Pursing your lips a bit, you send him a skeptical glance. "Oreo shake with a lot of whipped cream?"

He instantly nods, a smile breaking out. "Of course, anything you want."

You look at the car's steering wheel before averting your eyes back to his. "And a red cherry?"

"I'll buy you a full jar of cherries if it makes you happy," he declares.

"And fries?"

Agreeing, he lets out a quick nod again. "With extra seasoning."

Biting your lip, you proceed to think about other stuff you may want with your milkshake and fries. "A burger?"

"My goodness, woman" he sighs, letting go of you and jumping out of the car before running around to your side and opening your door. "I'll buy you the whole menu, now let's go!"

With that, he vigorously yet cautiously pulls you out of your seat and throws you over his shoulders.

"Oh no!" you squeal, trying to find something to hold on to as he begins his journey, walking towards the bridge to start the hike. Grabbing a hold of his neck, you try not to choke him as you place your arm around it.

If you were going down, you were sure you were going to break his neck in the process. At least it would be a learning lesson for him.

"If you drop me I am never talking to you again," you threaten as he continues down a path.

"Said that before and just did it half the car ride here," he begins, moving his shoulder to give you a little fright of your life. "Now I just found out that all I have to do is buy you food and you'll yap again."

Glaring, you choke him a little to which he chuckles. "Didn't know you were into that."

Speechless, you couldn't believe his words. What the hell was he on this morning?

"Put me down!" you exclaim, immediately moving your body so he would lose his balance. Once he did so, you scowl as he ruffles your hair, making it tangle around. "Hey!"

"Can you stop being negative for a few minutes and enjoy the environment?" he asks, pulling his arms up to twirl around. "Just take in that fresh air mother nature gifted us."

Scrunching your nose, you frown. "It smells like rotten eggs."

"Because of the ducks," he pointed out before patting his pockets. "Which we will be feeding with the bread I brought."

Examining his pocket, you shoot him a curious glance. "How big are your pockets?"

"Not important," he states, grabbing your arms and dragging you along with him down the long trail. "What's important is finishing this trail to feel accomplished."

Pouting, you allowed him to drag you along as you miserably dreaded the next few hours to come. The energy you had to give off just for some damn breakfast.

Shame on you for loving food so much.

Encountering many frogs, lizards, and pigeons who loved flying right by both of your heads and scaring you to death, you had long forgotten about how anxious you were being around him. Being distracted constantly had you occupied which was a relief.

Eventually, you two finally found the drugs.

Or the ducks.

Walking by a huge pond, there were numerous amounts of ducks leaping around with their families following behind. It was really cute, but the smell wasn't.

"I wonder if they can choke on this?" Pedro muttered as he pulled out a large bread. Slowly nearing one medium-seized one in caution, he rips a piece apart and throws it. "It is kind of thick."

Taking a moment to check the bread out, you sigh. "Are you feeding these ducks bolillo bread?"

He pauses, not sure why you would care to ask. "Yes and?"

"They have thick crusts!" you exclaim. "And why not just feed them normal wheat bread?"

"Who even eats wheat? It's bland." he protests. "Plus, this is leftovers from my dinner last night."

"They're ducks! They don't care," you argue as he shakes his head.

"Just imagine if you were a duck," he began, making you huff in annoyance as you just knew he was going to say something ridiculous. "Wouldn't you love to eat this nice bolillo bread, maybe visualize a torta with some carnitas, onions, avocado, can't forget the refried bean-"

"The duck is choking!" you squeal and stare in fear as the poor duck starts to wheeze sharply.

Pedro's facial expressions drops as he sees the poor duck quacking in agony. Nervously rushing to its side, he looks up at you. "Do we pat its back? CPR? Call 911?!"

Pulling out your phone, you type away to find answers for your current problem. It was indeed true that you aren't supposed to feed ducks bread.

Especially thick Mexican ones.

"Give it mouth to mouth if you want chlamydia," you read aloud, causing Pedro to instantly leap away from the duck as it hastily begins to lay on the ground. "Wait, you get that from birds, not ducks. Silly me."

"Ducks are birds," he discloses, trying his best to softly pat the ducks back, finally giving it one powerful swat to help but instead the duck ends ups being thrown a few feet away by his force.

"Do I look like a fucking duck doctor?" you spit out, making him look up confused.

"You mean a veterarian."

Ignoring his last comment, you continue scrolling through more of google's suggestions, finally finding some information that may help. "You need to press down on its chest with 1-2 fingers or just give them water to drown it down."

Immediately grabbing the duck and placing it on its back, you worriedly watch over the duck from Pedro's shoulder as he works his fingers on the poor animal.

However, no luck was given as the duck was beginning to look weak and drowsy as pressure kept being projected on its chest. "We need water!"

Running towards the pond, you motion for Pedro to follow along with the duck as you look for a safe ramp to lead the duck onto. "Let's just lay him down near the water and splash him with it."

"He?" Pedro asks, stopping his movements. "But it looks like a she-"

"We are not arguing over its gender when its literally dying in your arms!" you exclaim, causing him to quickly nod and follow the ramp you found towards the water.

Gently, Pedro lowered his arms near the water with the poor duck taking over his hands. Trying to move the flow of water towards its face, he calls you over. "He's not accepting it, you need to scoop some up in your hand and pour it over his beak."

Rapidly nodding, you do as he says and take a handful and try not to spill it before gradually pouring it over the duck's beak. This water was not clean, but at least it was something. Nothing was happening until your third scoop once the duck began to actually swallow some of the water slowly.

"I-I think it's working! We did it!" Pedro cheered, trying to give you a high-five, failing incredibly as he somehow managed to lose his grip and dump the poor duck hard in the pond. "Oh shit!"

Squatting down, you try to reach for the duck as its face was buried underneath the water before Pedro's body slams into yours, causing you to fall into the dirty, cold pond.

The feeling of thick, muddy water overtakes your body as you lose all sight of air. Quickly moving your arms up and down, you rise back to the surface to find Pedro with his hands over his mouth and his jaw dropped.

He knew he wasn't going to hear the end of it.

"Fuck," he nervously muttered to himself before reaching out for you. "I am so so so sorry, the leaf made me slip AH!-"

He couldn't finish his sentence as you yanked his arm down with you, pulling with almighty to get him to land in the pond. The weight of the water going down with his body diving harshly against it, you knew he was completely soaked.

And probably pissed, but its okay. It's what he deserves.

Waiting for him to come up, he finally did so in seconds looking very unhappy. It made you delighted.

"You did that on purpose!"

Scoffing, you splash him and watch as he gasps harder. "You do a lot of things on purpose."

Using both hands to release bigger waves, he splashes you back. "Don't splash me!"

Growling, you slap his chest as he clutches your wrist afterwards. "You're so lucky I forgot my phone at home."

Gasping, you feel one of his hands fly underwater. "I didn't!" You hold in your giggles as he shuffles frantically before moving his gaze back up. "Wait, I never removed it from my glove department. Be fortunate I forgot it because if you destroyed it I would've made you walk home."

Furrowing your brows, you push his shoulders and make him move back by the force of it. "You're the one who started it. We're gonna get duck chlamydia now!"

Rolling his eyes, he pushed you back, causing you to fall under the water. Once you caught your breath again you notice the way he glares at you. "That's not even a thing."

"Just another STD to add to your list," you jokingly mumble to yourself, sure he didn't catch it.

You were wrong, again.

Launching himself onto you, the two of you fall underwater as he shoves you body around in revenge. Swimming back up, you gasp for air while slapping his arms off you as he tried blocking all your attempts.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he clings his face on your shoulder as he proceeds to try and bring you down under but somehow you manage to wrap your leg around his thigh, causing him to lose his strength and fall backwards with you on top of him.

He sure has one strong grip.

Now, not saying you were going to kill him. But this was your chance to kill him with no witnesses.

Well- besides the ducks, but they wouldn't quack a soul.

Regaining his energy, he lifts himself back up and holds you up, about to drag you under again before you crazily oppose while shaking your head, "Don't! We're gonna get sick!"

"That's not a very sincere apology," he tilts his head, his wet hair scattered across his face as he awaits your alibi.

Huffing, you fight back a rude remark. "Do you understand how much poop were swimming in right now? These ducks are probably laughing at us by how much they are quacking."

Swiftly looking around, the two of you check the surrounding ducks around who blankly stare back. The older looking ones hollering nonsense, probably making plans to kill you and Pedro.

"I bet their releasing their chlamydia right now," you cry, hiding your face in his shoulder as he bursts out laughing.

"I don't think that's how it works."

Glancing down on him, you're surprised by his strength. He's been holding you up by your waist for so long you're shocked he hasn't dropped you accidentally yet. "Let's not find out, let's get out."

"You're forgetting something," he smiles, staring innocently at you, knowing damn well you can't leave without his release. "And I wouldn't wait this one out because I am pretty sure I feel toads swimming near my feet."

Instantaneously, you clung onto him tighter in fear as you could imagine the feeling of something swarming around your body. It was like hundred of spiders crawling all over you, you needed to get out of here.

Pulling yourself back up, you place your hands on his shoulders as he impassively stares back at you, waiting. "Fine," you huff. "I'm sorry for claiming you had STD's before."

Pedro just stays there, not moving an inch as if he wants more. Groaning, you knew he wasn't going to give in so easy. "And I am sorry for stimulating the idea that you would get duck chlamydia," you apologize. "But you can get E. coli."

That didn't help as he just helplessly eyed you, not impressed with your poor excuses of your so-called apologies. What more did he want? You can't necessarily beg on your knees, you're in the water!

Whining, you knew you had to pull out your sincere face. You just knew your Oscar-worthy acting was about to award you freedom.

Softly, you move strands of hair stuck near his eyes away from his face and brush his hair back before quivering your lips and looking down upon him in sorrow.

He has really pretty eyes.

"I'm really sorry," you start as you push your face inside his neck and lock him inside your arms. "I know you don't have any infections, you don't even have visible rashes or sores to prove it."

Pedro finds your plead for forgiveness charming as you squeeze him tighter. He begins to release you until he hears the mutter of your "-that are visible."

"You couldn't hold it in for a few more seconds?!" he whined at how fast you went back to insulting him.

Sighing heavily, you slap a hand to your face. "It's hard!"

Suppressing a laugh, he unwrapped his arms around you and let you get back to the sidewalk. But once you were back on your feet, you looked down to find your body filled with random pieces of dirt, sticks, and grass. "Ew!"

"You're not sitting in my car," Pedro states, waving his head side to side to release some water from his ears.

"You're worse than me!"

"My car, my rules."

Frowning, you weren't sure if he was kidding or not. "Well, you almost committed first-degree-murder so if you don't want people to know you must be my personal servant."

His instant glare turned into confusion as he abruptly moved his attention back towards the pond. "Where did the duck go?"

Widening your eyes, you forgot that you had a helpless duck in your hands minutes ago before your splash attack with Pedro. Scanning your eyes from the sidewalks to the ramps to the pond, you noticed a duck floating nearby. "I think that's them."

Pointing at a duck with the closest familiar colors than the rest, you felt Pedro let out of sigh of relief. "Thank goodness, I would have felt extremely guilty if she would have died."

"It could be a he," you snap back.

He was about to protest but honestly, you were done for the day. You just wanted to take a long and hot shower and knock back out. Not only that, but you ruined your cute running shoes you gifted yourself months ago for your work out journey.

You never really wore them, but it's the thought that counts.

"We can get breakfast another day," you plead to which he didn't argue over because he really wanted to remove the unknown substances off his body asap.

He wouldn't admit it, but he was genuinely scared he may have gotten duck chlamydia .

"Okay, but no sleeping in the car," Pedro states as you exhale loudly. All this and you still weren't allowed to doze off, how cruel is life at the moment.

Walking back to the car would've went down smoothly if the two of you weren't given disturbed looks from strangers and your clothes weren't clinging uncomfortably to your bodies, especially your shoes.

Luckily, Pedro had towels in his trunk and set them down on the seats. "God, I am definitely going to need a deep cleaning after this."

Slipping inside, your hands find the heater and turn it on full blast. Not only was it freezing outside, but your drenched state made you feel like an icicle.

Setting off back to the road, your mind begins to wander back to the question that has been flooding your mind lately. Craning you neck towards his presence, you make out his comfort state. Cool, he's calm.

Here goes nothing.

"So," you start, awkwardly playing with your hands as you try to make direct eye-contact with him as he turns his head to you. "Why did you visit the other morning?"

Lifting a brow, he pulls a face. "Other morning?"

Biting the inside of the cheek, you try to sound composed. "Yeah, remember? You dropped by around 6am-"

"-and you thought I was Lady Gaga, slammed the door on my face, and went back to bed?" he finished, grinning while finding your eyes again. "You mean that day?"

"Well if you knew what I was talking about why make me recall those mortifying details?" you grumble, leaning back against your seat. "And I thought you were a cat."

"I figured, I always questioned why Jules would ramble on about buying Lady Gaga a new electric litter box until I connected the dots," he confessed making you let out a small chuckle.

Yeah, you clearly remember how upset Jules became when Lady Gaga neglected the expensive box.

"But if you're curious, it wasn't because I wanted to go hiking," he smiled, referring to the current day.

"Then why?"

He paused for a minute, checking his mirrors before switching lanes. "I'm not really sure."

Tilting your head a bit, you express curiosity as you glance back. "I don't understand?"

Laughing lowly, he slightly shook his head. "I did wake up real fucking early that day," he started. "Maybe around 4am? Which sucked because I must've gotten like 3-4 hours of sleep."

"So you decided to wake me up so I could feel your pain?"

"No," he stifled another chuckle. "To plant trees."

Squinting your eyes, you become very confused. What is he talking about? He noticed your puzzlement immediately. "You know, go early in the morning to different areas in the city and help dig and replace old trees to plant new ones."

This whole time you were flipping out, wondering why he randomly came early in the morning just to find out it was because he's a nature boy who wants to help out the community?

It was very sweet of him to be as helpful as he was, but you were a little disappointment it wasn't something more.

"That's why?" you ask and he nods. "And why no warning?"

"Well, I was going to call but I figured all that studying you had done the evening before may have knocked you out early," he confessed.

Yet he still made you wake up early today knowing damn well you were exhausted last night. Strange.

"Why me?" you giggle. "I'm not your typical nature girl, Joon would've been perfect for the job."

Shrugging, he leaned his elbow on his middle console. "I thought about asking him, but to be honest I didn't want to pay for any damages he may have caused."

That was a very accurate insight of what Joon really was, clumsy. The amount of times he accidentally dropped his coffee cups, tripped over wires backstage, and face-planted against glass doors would be too much to count on both your palms.

You're surprised he hasn't broken his back again- but still glad he hasn't. That would really suck.

"But have you thought things over yet?" Pedro glanced your way before looking back forward. "About Canada?"

Stiffing up a bit, you move your eyes to the dashboard. You weren't dreading this conversation, but you didn't want to talk about it.

This was a situation where it was a win but also a loss.

Win as in gaining incredible experience, loss that your parent's wouldn't be pleased, it was in a different country, and you'd be missing out on your social life for almost a year.

"Not really," you admit and sense from the corner of your eyes his shoulders fall. "Still indecisive, as always," you try joking to lighten the mood.

Sending over a tiny grin, he mirrors your same expression, doubtful. His face turns concentrated again, leaning closer to you before he shuts down again, ultimately rejecting whatever idea he had going on.

The rest of the drive back to your place went by fast. The two of you made little talk about each other's life and how school was going for you, but he already knew so much already from past encounters.

Pulling up to the red curb you loathe, you crack a scowl as he only returns a smirk at his doing. "I will personally send my property manager to you so she can threaten you."

"I do love threats," he beamed, watching as you reach for the handle before stopping you by his voice. "-but I had fun this morning, despite our little uh...catastrophe," he chuckled, looking down at his clothes.

"I totally agree," you grin. "Dirt just looks so good on me."

He sniggers lightly before slightly sobering up. "But seriously, think about the offer," he begins, nipping at his lip a bit, not trying to put too much pressure on you. "It'll be good for you, you know- your future."

Sighing, you nod. You knew where he was coming from since he's been doing this for so long, but you were still young and had a lot on your mind.

"I'll think about it," you smile, reaching for the door handle and swiftly getting out, missing the way his smile slowly vanishes.

Taking your usual step back, you send him a farewell wave but he does his habitual goodbyes as he gets out of his car and grins to you. "See you around." Laughing, you walk inside the doors and make your way to the elevators, his followed soft "beautiful" being muffled by the traffic on the streets.

It seemed like both of you were screwed.

+

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[imzadi-caskett-huddy]

Hell Hath No Fury (21/?)

Thank you all so much for your reviews on the last chapter! If I missed responding, I apologize. I thought I had fixed the problem with notifications from the site, but apparently it really is an issue with the site and not my email. So I’m doing my best to try to keep track of the reviews I still need to respond to!

As I said in the last chapter, I’m opening this chapter with a significant time jump. So the last chapter wrapped up the July 4 holiday, and this chapter is going to start right after Labor Day.

Also, I want to give all you guys a heads-up…I won’t be posting any updates between June 5 and June 15 because I’ll be on vacation. I promise to try to post one more chapter of It Started With a Kiss before we leave, but I honestly don’t know if I’ll be able to get it written and edited in time. But, I promise to post as soon as I can get something written after we get back home!

Also, Kate goes shopping for some dresses in this chapter. I am many things and can write many things, but I am not a fashion writer. So I'm posting the pics of the dress that appears in this chapter.

I still don’t own Castle…

This is the dress featured in this chapter:

xxxxx

After the Fourth of July, Kate spent most of the remainder of the summer in the Hamptons, only returning to the city for a day here and there when she had plans with Lanie or her dad. She and Castle barely spent a night apart anymore, but after returning to the city from the Hamptons on Labor Day, Kate had insisted they should each sleep at their own place that night. She needed to unpack from the summer, and Alexis was starting her senior year of high school the following day; she wasn’t going to let Castle miss that. After a lengthy goodbye at the Hamptons, they’d ridden back separately–Kate on her motorcycle and Castle in the Ferrari with Alexis, as Martha had driven the Mercedes back.

Kate didn’t regret her decision until that night when she was trying to fall asleep in her bed. It just felt…empty. She missed his presence, she missed his warmth at her back, she just missed him. But she refused to text him, knowing he’d either immediately come over or persuade her to join him at the loft, and she was determined they could handle a night apart. She knew she needed to begin reacclimating herself…and him…to daily life outside of their perfect Hamptons bubble they’d created for themselves. She knew there would be nights apart now…her job (when she returned from suspension in a couple of weeks), or his, would keep them apart sometimes, and they simply needed to start getting used to it now. That stubborn determination didn’t make it any easier to fall asleep alone, however.

That same stubborn determination is also what prevented her from texting Castle the next morning. Kate Beckett had never been a clingy girlfriend…she was not about to start now. She knew Castle would call or text her once Alexis was off to school and he’d caught up on things she was sure he’d fallen behind on while spending his summer in the Hamptons. So when he heard a knock on her door around 10, she knew exactly who it was.

She opened the door with a smile and immediately found herself being pulled into a kiss. “Hi,” Castle greeted her softly when he pulled back from the kiss a few moments later.

“Hi,” she returned with a smile, the fingers of one hand flexing against his chest. She stepped back, tugging him into her apartment and closing the door behind him.

“I missed you last night,” he admitted softly, offering her one of the coffees he had in the cup holder he was carrying.

She smiled and accepted the cup, closing her eyes as she savored a sip. No one could make her coffee like he could. She’d missed that with her own coffee that morning. “I missed you too,” she admitted. “But we can’t spend every night together. We’re back in the real world now. It’s best if we start readjusting to that now. There are just some nights we’ll have to be apart,” she reasoned.

“About that…” Castle started with a slight frown. “Gina and Paula have set up some dates for me to promote the new book.”

She hid her slight frown behind her coffee cup. She’d known it would happen sooner or later. She just thought they’d have given him a little more time to settle into being back in the city first. “Where are they sending you?” she finally asked.

“San Diego, LA, San Francisco, and Seattle,” he answered.

“That’s only 4 cities, Castle…that’s not so bad,” she tried to reassure him.

“That’s just this weekend,” he told her.

“Oh,” she wrinkled her nose.

“Then it’s Chicago, Dallas, Atlanta, and Boston. That’s next weekend.”

She placed her cup on the island and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I think I’ll survive without you for a few days,” she smiled up at him.

He pouted slightly. “But what about me? I might not survive without you.”

“Castle, that’s sweet, but you’ll be fine. We both will. We will call each other when you’re gone, and when you get back, we can make up for the nights away,” she suggested with a playful grin.

“Or…you could come with me.”

She raised an eyebrow at his suggestion. “What?”

“You could come with me. You’ve got two weeks left on your suspension. You could come with me to most of the cities. You wouldn’t be able to come to Boston, but that’s a shuttle flight out of JFK all the time. I could fly home with you from Atlanta and then fly out to Boston on Monday for the event, then fly back home that night. After that, it’s pretty much just local signings or short distances I can cover down and back on the same day.”

She studied him for a moment. “You really want me to go on your book tour? What am I supposed to do while you’re working, hmm?”

“Well, it’s not all boring. Sure, there are usually a couple of hours I’ll appear at a bookstore to sign copies of the book, but almost all of the cities have a release party. Nothing as splashy as when Heat Wave came out, but a cocktail party. You can be my date,” he smiled.

“Did you run this plan by Gina and Paula? Aren’t they worried you having a girlfriend with you is going to put a damper on your roguish playboy persona they like to use to sell your books?”

He offered her a small smile. “I don’t care what they think. Their job is to set up the events, but they don’t get to tell me who I bring. My life is my own. And I want you with me. I don’t want to be apart for that many days,” he whined slightly, his fingers lightly teasing her hips.

“And the press?” she asked. She knew dating him would involve some dealings with the press, but she had hoped to minimize it. She was a private person, and living her life, her relationship, in the papers was disconcerting to her.

He sighed softly. “There will be some press. And I can’t control all the paparazzi who might take pictures of us together. But I can control the narrative Gina and Paula put out there. So you tell me what you’re comfortable with, and that’s the official narrative that goes out,” he promised her with a smile. “If you want the official narrative to be that you and I are dating, that’s what I’ll tell them to say. But if you aren’t comfortable with that and would prefer the narrative to be that you are the inspiration for Nikki Heat, and that’s why you are at the book parties with me, then that can be the official narrative.”

“Why do we have to tell them anything?” she asked, dropping her forehead to his shoulder.

“Because if we don’t tell them something when they ask, they will engage in wild speculation,” he chuckled. “And trust me, that is so much worse than just telling them what we want the story to be.”

She took a deep breath and finally straightened up to look at him again. “Well, I don't want women thinking you’re single, so tell them we’re together,” she stated. “I’m not crazy about living my life in the papers, but I do know that sometimes comes with the territory of dating you. So I’ll get used to it,” she offered him a small smile.

“Does that mean you’ll come on the tour with me?” he asked hopefully.

“It means I’ll go this weekend. We’ll see how that goes before I agree to anything else,” she agreed.

“It will be fun, you’ll see,” he grinned, giving her a quick kiss.

She really hoped he was right because whether or not it was fun, if she was going to be with Castle, this was a part of the package. Hopefully, she’d adjust quickly and manage not to be too newsworthy.

xxxxx

“Tell me why I need 4 dresses again?” Kate asked Lanie as she stared at the rack full of dresses in the dressing room at one of Lanie’s go-to boutiques when it came to killer dresses.

Lanie simply shot her best friend a look. “Because you’re going to 4 different release parties in 4 different cities back to back to back to back. Do you want to be photographed in the same dress on back-to-back days? You’re Richard Castle’s girlfriend. Besides, it’s been ages since you bought a new dress…I know, I’ve seen your closet.”

Kate rolled her eyes in response to that. “It’s just, I’m sure I have at least a couple of dresses…”

“Uh uh,” Lanie interrupted her quickly. “Do not go there. Like I just said, I’ve seen your closet. Besides, you’re going to look amazing in at least most of these. So try them on, then we’ll narrow it down.” Seeing the look Kate shot her, Lanie sighed. “If you can’t find 4 that you look amazing in, we’ll talk about what’s in your closet, deal?”

Kate chewed her lower lip for a minute before agreeing. “Deal.” She grabbed one of the dresses and stepped behind the curtain. “I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal out of this, Lanie. Castle’s seen me naked probably a thousand times by now; he knows what's under the dress,” she continued to talk as she changed into the dress.

“But he’s never seen you at his book release party as his girlfriend, trying to be sexy for him,

and sometimes the wrapping is part of the fun,” Lanie pointed out. “And a thousand times? You two have been together, what, almost 4 months now? You’re telling me he’s seen you naked a thousand times in roughly 120 days? You guys are like rabbits, good Lord.” When she saw Kate’s head pop around the curtain with a glare, she couldn’t help but laugh. “What? I’m just saying! Sounds like you two had a nice summer.”

“We did,” Kate smiled with a slight blush on her cheeks as she stepped out from behind the curtain in the first dress. “Well?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well you look freaking amazing in that, Kate, and you know it.”

“Really?”

“Girl, I’ma smack you. Yes really! Castle’s eyes are going to pop out of his head when he sees you in that. Now you cannot honestly tell me you have anything in your closet that looks that incredible on you,” Lanie crossed her arms.

“You might be right about that,” Kate finally relented.

“Girl, I know I’m right. That one is a keeper,” she stated, grabbing the next dress and handing it to her.

By the time Kate had finished trying on the dresses an hour later, all of which Kate looked phenomenal in, Lanie had helped her narrow it down to the four she was going to get that day. As they headed toward the register with their selections, Lanie gave her a smile. “See, was this so bad?”

“I’ll let you know when I see the total,” Kate replied simply.

“Girl, please. You never splurge like this. Shut up and treat yourself for once. You’ll thank me when Castle sees you in those dresses. You need shoes to go with any of those?” she asked casually, wondering if their little impromptu shopping trip included shoe shopping as well.

Kate laughed softly. “With my collection of heels? No, I’m sure I’ve got something that will work for these.”

“What about lingerie?” Lanie teased then.

“Lanie, this is a business trip!”

“So? Doesn’t mean you two can’t have fun in your hotel room afterward,” she smirked.

Kate laughed softly. “I’m pretty sure by the time we’re done at the release party and back in our room, he’s not going to be able to keep his hands off me, so lingerie is going to be pretty much irrelevant,” she admitted. Seeing her friend’s questioning look, she looked away with a slight blush. “It will be off me and across the room before he even has a chance to register what I looked like in it,” she explained.

“Damn,” Lanie chuckled.

“I mean, I don’t know that it will always be like this, but…it still is, so…” she trailed off with a shrug and a slight smile.

“Girl, you two are like fire and gasoline. I don’t care how often you mix them, you always get the same result…explosive inferno,” she chuckled as Kate handed over her credit card to the saleswoman to pay for her dresses.

xxxxx

“Kate, the car is downstairs,” Castle called to her from his spot in the living room area of their suite where she’d banished him so that she could get ready without him slowing down her process.

“I’m almost ready,” she called back from the closed bedroom. A few moments later she stepped out of the room in a gorgeous purple dress with a plunging neckline. The skirt hit just above her knees in front but was longer in the back to the point of almost, but not quite, hitting the floor. She’d paired it with a pair of silver strap stilettos and kept her hair down with her natural waves. She’d specifically gone with this purple dress after seeing his dress shirt for the evening was a shade of purple as well.

Castle’s jaw literally dropped when he saw her. “Oh…wow…” he finally managed to stutter out. “You look…just…wow…”

She gave him a shy smile as she approached, smoothing his shirt front slightly with her fingers. “You don’t look so bad yourself, babe,” she replied softly. When he leaned in for a kiss, she stopped him with a finger to his lips. “Uh uh,” she smiled slightly at his frown. “You’ll end up wearing my lipstick, and it's definitely not your shade. Later,” she promised.

He frowned a little more but simply pressed the kiss to her cheek instead. “Later…” he murmured lowly.

She smiled at that, taking his hand and leading him out of the room.

xxxxx

Kate had to admit the walk from the car to get into the event hadn’t been as bad as she’d thought

it would be. Sure, there were photographers…and fans…outside taking pictures, and a few people had stopped Castle for some questions, but it hadn’t been nearly as bad as she’d made it out to be in her head. Once they were inside the ballroom being utilized for the event, she let her hand trail down his arm to lace their fingers. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought,” she admitted to him softly.

He grinned, bringing her knuckles up to his lips for a soft kiss. “Tomorrow night in LA will be the worst one,” he assured her. “LA and New York are always the worst. Plus, the press had no idea you were coming with me tonight. Trust me, tomorrow night will be different.” He dropped her hand then in order to grab two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray.

“Rick!” Paula came over as soon as she spotted them. “When you told me you were bringing your new girlfriend, you failed to mention you were dating Nikki Heat! I would have had more press outside,” she greeted Castle with a kiss on the cheek.

“Actually, it’s Kate,” Kate offered a smile, extending her hand.

“Paula, I’d like you to meet Kate Beckett.”

Paula took Kate’s hand with a smile. “Honey, you being here with him this weekend is going to push his book sales through the roof,” she told her. Turning back to Castle, she smirked slightly. “I guess telling you to sleep with her a couple of years ago to get her out of your system didn’t really go as planned, huh?”

“Excuse me?” Kate asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Funny story…I’ll tell you later,” Castle said quickly. “Paula, how long before the reading?” he asked, trying to change the subject. He wasn’t sure Kate would be all that thrilled about the conversation Paula had referenced.

“30 minutes. We’ll start with the reading, and then you can mingle for the rest of the evening. I’m going to go check to make sure everything is ready, and then I’ll be back for you in about 25 minutes. No hiding this time,” she told him using her fingers to gesture that she had her eyes on him as she walked away.

“So that’s Paula,” Kate took a sip of the champagne, watching Paula walk away for a moment before turning her attention back to Castle.

He nodded. “That’s Paula.”

“So you wanna tell me what she meant?” she asked him then.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he tried to maintain his innocence.

“Uh-huh. That funny story you said you’d tell me later. It’s later, and I’d love a laugh.”

Castle swallowed a large drink of his champagne. “It’s really funny,” he assured her, even giving a chuckle. “At the Heat Wave party a couple of years ago, she thought you were just an infatuation I had, and that I needed to get you out of my system. So she told me to sleep with you so I could go sign the Bond deal. Obviously, I didn’t listen to her…” he studied her for a reaction then. When she said nothing, he began to get nervous. “I mean, you were never just an infatuation…or someone that I wanted to get out of my system…not that I can get you out of my system…I mean, you so obviously aren’t something to just get out of my system…”

The way he stumbled over his words amused her, and she finally cracked a smile as she took another sip of her champagne. “Relax, Castle. I know it wasn’t you who said it. She’s a little uncouth…I’m not going to hold what she says against you,” she promised him. “Ironically enough, I probably would have slept with you that night had you not pissed me off…maybe even then if you had played your cards right,” she informed him with a playful smile.

He had to do a double-take at her words. “You…you would?”

She nodded, moving a little closer to him, letting her fingers toy with the lapel on his jacket. “In fact, when you came over while I was reading the dedication, I kinda hoped you were going to make a move. Imagine my disappointment when you brought up the case,” she raised an eyebrow at him.

“I…oh…uh, you…you were?” he swallowed hard at the look she was giving him and how close she still was to him.

“I was.”

“But I thought…” he started, but he wasn’t really sure how to finish that thought.

She couldn’t help the soft giggle that escaped. “You’re really not very good at reading women’s signals if they aren’t throwing themselves at you, are you?” she asked, clearly amused.

He shook his head. “Apparently I am not.”

Another giggle escaped as her fingers lightly traced the outline of his lapel again before she used it to pull him even closer to her. “I guess I’ll just have to throw myself at you later,” she husked lowly in his ear, giving him a wicked grin and a soft kiss before taking a step back from him, leaving him stunned and speechless.

That was the moment Paula returned. “Time to go, Rick,” she stated, grabbing his arm and tugging the still-flustered man toward where he would get ready to do his reading in a few moments. Meanwhile, Kate grabbed another glass of champagne from a waiter and moved toward the back of the crowd to enjoy his reading without distracting him.

xxxxx

After the reading, Castle kept her by his side the rest of the night, using his hand on her back or his hand in hers to keep her close, except for the times one or the other of them had excused themselves to the restroom. Even then, as soon as they were within each other’s orbit again, Castle would pull her back to his side. It didn’t matter who he was talking to, he always introduced her as his girlfriend, Kate, before he would begin the conversation, and he made sure she was included in any conversation she actually wished to be a part of…and probably a few she would have rather just listened to. He knew this was not her type of event, and the last thing he wanted to do was have her uncomfortable or leave her to fend off the sharks by herself.

Once he was sure they’d stayed long enough to satisfy Paula and his commitment to the event, he turned to her with a grin. “Ready to get out of here?” he asked her.

She returned his grin with a smile of her own. “Yes.” She’d been ready to leave an hour ago, but she wasn't going to push him to leave his event. As much as she enjoyed watching him in his element, she was not a fan of small talk or forced conversations with people who normally wouldn’t even give her the time of day. She did have a few laughs that she managed to keep to herself, though, at the women who seemed rather disappointed he had shown up with a girlfriend. She was sure they’d most likely secured tickets to the event with the hopes they would be the lucky girl he’d be leaving the event with.

Once he’d slid into the car next to her, she leaned over and kissed him softly. “Thank you for not signing any chests tonight,” she smiled.

He chuckled. “I’d be happy to sign your chest if you’d like,” he grinned, pulling his Sharpie out of his jacket pocket.

“Castle, you’re not signing my chest!” she couldn’t help but laugh. “It would be obvious in all the dresses I brought with me, and although I am proud to be your girlfriend, I am not walking into your release parties with your signature on my chest,” she shook her head with another laugh.

“What about…other body parts? Can I sign those?” he asked with a playful smile.

She tugged her lower lip between her teeth as she considered his question. “Are you offering me a private autograph session, Mr. Castle?” she asked, her voice husky at the thought.

His eyes darkened slightly at the tone of her voice. “I am. Are you interested?”

“I might be able to think of a few places I’d like you to sign,” she smiled.

He grinned a little. “Oh yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah,” she leaned in to kiss him, brushing her tongue past his lips to stroke against his.

By the time they got back to their hotel suite, it was all they could do to get through the door before their mouths were devouring each other. She shoved his suit jacket off his shoulders and let it hit the floor, but when his fingers began trying to find the zipper of her dress, she stepped back out of his grasp. She unzipped her own dress as she walked toward the bedroom, letting it slowly fall down her body, carefully stepping out of it as she walked and catching it before it could hit the floor.

Castle stood, completely mesmerized by her until he heard, “Castle, bring your Sharpie!” called in a seductive tone from the bedroom. He nearly tripped over his feet in his haste to grab it from the pocket of his jacket on the floor and join her in the bedroom.

xxxxx

Hopefully, you guys enjoyed this chapter!

Also, remember I won’t be able to post another update to this until after June 15 because I’ll be on vacation from June 5 to 15, and I’m going to try to get another chapter of It Started With a Kiss done before I leave.

I look forward to hearing what you guys think for those who choose to leave comments!

[hydrangeyes]

Mk x spray painter Male reader ☁️☁️

So if you don't know, Yes this already existed, my old account was deleted (accident but I can tell I won't be getting it back), and am reposting my old x male reader works!

I don't know if I saved all of them but here is one that was saved to my AO3 account.

Edit: So shuffling through my docs It's been brought to my attention that wattpad (who I use as backup) Cut a lot of my fics in half??? anyway I'll be trying to fix that also

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

Aaaahhhh this is such a cute idea!!!

Mk sees male reader spray painting on a wall and what's to join/try it out!

Warning: None!! Just super cute and mushy

Requested by: ekkozied

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

For the most part you started this mural on your own. The building owner wanting to brighten up the alley walkway to their backyard café, and well, the pay was really good. A quick in and out job really.

So you didn't mind cleaning it up and prepping the wall, what you didn't expect was just...how big the wall actually was.

Letting out a breathe you step back shaking the can of black paint as you eye the sketch you placed. Took you since this early morning, and by the sound of your stomach. It was definitely time for lunch.

Doing some stretches and fully opening your bag of spray paints. You felt in the mood for something pretty light but filling.

"Hmm, Pigsy's noodles it is"

Your stomach ended up making you buy 2 servings...

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

It didn't take long for your food to arrive, and while it wasn't your order you couldn't help but look back at the cute delivery driver.

Wide eyed and curious, Mk quickly was distracted by the mess of empty paint cans and the sketch you had on the wall. "Woah this looks so cool! How long have you been doing this!?" he shouts in excitement turning to you, seeing you on the ground eating.

You pause to swallow then grin "Thanks! A bit of a hobby, uh spray painting or working on this?"

"Yes." Mk asks

Letting out a snorted laugh you wave him to join you, which he does sitting close, "Let's see, I've been into art and specifically spray painting since middle school I think. Been working on this commission since 4 am? maybe 5?"

Mk gasps dramatically going a small tangent about hoping you at least took a break or how he couldn't even focus on being still for that long. to which as you watch him suddenly start organizing your empty cans, could tell.

"I like to draw and everything but I never branched out of sketches? Can't even imagine spray painting."

You tilt your head finishing up your bowl of noodles and getting up with a content stretch. Fully charged and ready to work.

"Well how about giving it a try now?"

Mk shakes his head watching as you pull out the colors you plan to use. "What!? Oh no no no! I would ruin it, what if I make a huge mess and then-" You interrupt him but handing over an orange spray can. Looking up at you Mk blushes at the calm and soft smirk you give him.

"I'll help if it's needed but that's the fun with spray painting. It dries quick and you can always paint over any mistakes." you wink stepping back and picking up a blue can. "So go wild delivery man."

Looking at the can Mk smiles a little. "Call me Mk."

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

You both had fun for hours, coloring in your design and every now and then when mk stayed in one spot too long, getting it on each other.

It was a big piece so day after day, mk came with lunch and a helping hand (When you allowed it). Laughing and tossing cans to one another, it was care free and even when you put on the finishing touches, mk stuck around around, watching you work and talking calmly about his recent training session or frustrations.

You catch yourself, when you start feeling excited when the time for lunch came around. Inwardly trying to keep your cool when when you both were tired, mk leans his head on your shoulder for a quick nap.

Falling asleep with him may have caused a slight scene, someone passing by thinking there was an accident (You guys forgot to clean up the red paint...).

He found himself, really relaxing with you. It was different than with mei which confused him at first. Till one day, it was just a little too hot and you took off your shirt to keep working and not get a heat stroke. Yeah. this feel was very different, that and he felt genuinely safe with you (emotionally of course).

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

So when it was all said in done you both couldn't help but feel a little bit sad.

You came to deeply enjoy the hyper man, find him cute and a great talker for times of burn out. And he adored the time with just having fun uninterrupted with someone he....well he realized he was starting to catch feelings for.

It shouldn't have been too much of a surprised when Mk suddenly asks you out. In the middle of cleaning your equipment up, you jolt as you feel him take hold of your arm. you see how he couldn't really look at you, his cheeks a deep red and shifting as if shy.

"Mk?"

He's quiet then with a deep breathe, looks at you straight in the eyes with all the determination and adoration he had.

"WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME N/N!"

Blinking at the outburst then seeing how he started to fidget more, it finally registered what he asked/shout.

Blushing you smile brightly.

"I would love too."

[alintheshitposter]

It is currently 4am in the morning, I can't sleep, so let's do this now. (Pretty sure I've done it before but this is simply going be the updated version🤪)

15 questions + 15 friends; I was tagged by @spezialgelagerte-rokokokokotte thanking youuu <3

It got quite long, so I'll put a cut here😅

1. Are you named after anyone?

No😊 (and I say this confidently because I named myself)

2. When was the last time you cried?

Two days ago, on my birthday (I was just a little emotional), but @maxwellshimbo was there to comfort me💚

3. Do you have kids?

Not of my own, no. And it's unlikely that is ever going to happen.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

I did ballet as a kid but quickly got tired of it and started playing football, which I technically STILL play (it's been 84 14 years💀) but I am falling out of love with it. I used to do archery for like a year which I absolutely loved and hope to do again sometime! I'm in a club for lifeguarding (German peeps will probably have heard of DLRG👀) so I spent quite some time at the swimming pool as well. Though I am not as active in actual training anymore. And I did ballroom dancing for a while. Like standard and latin dances. My favourite was probably Cha Cha Cha and my least favourite was definitely Quickstep😵‍💫 it was fun tho! I danced with one of my best friends and I did the leading parts which made me feel kind of gender euphoric. I also like to go for a run every now and then but overall I'd consider myself a not so sporty person. I like to relax a lot🥴

5. Do you use sarcasm?

I cannot live without. It just comes naturally.

6. What is the first thing you notice about people?

Just the overall vibe I guess. And whether I like them or not.

7. What is your eye colour?

It says blue-grey on my ID but I've been told they're actually more green-ish and I kind of agree.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings. I don't like scary movies, I think they're ridiculous.

9. Any talents?

Hm. Well...my dad jokes are pretty good🤪 but apart from that...I guess I'm quite creative?🤷🏻 I speak 3 languages fluently? I can touch my tongue to my nose? Idk xD

10. Where were you born?

In some small town in northern Germany. Fellow Germans will probably know it for one (1) big tourist attraction but I'm not going to specify it here.

11. What are your hobbies?

I play theater. I play several musical instruments (bass, flute, ukulele, kalimba and some more but I'm not as good). I like taking pictures and editing them. Sometimes I write fanfic and/or poetry. And I like to relax in my bean bag🥴

12. Do you have any pets?

I have a cat but I haven't lived with her in 3 years. (Due to an allergy🤧 and me moving out of my parents' house.) I visit her from time to time tho!

13. How tall are you?

It used to be 1,68m on my ID but I recently had to renew it and now it says I'm 1,71m...I think I might actually be smaller than that though🥴

14. Favourite subject in school?

Always all the languages. Never any of the sciences. I loved music class as well. And all the school bands I played in. I miss that.

15. Dream job?

Please, that is the WORST question you could ask me right now😩 I feel a little lost. I'm currently studying to be a translator but is it what I really want? I don't know ;-; I miss working at the kindergarten lately. But I don't know if I'd wanna do that full time either. I'm so insecure and I hope I'll figure it out soon.

Phew. This took me almost an hour. Well. Let's see if I can fall asleep now. 1½ hours left until my alarm goes off. Good night😴

No pressure tags: @daughterofhecata @miaisreadytorun @bistdueinbaum