#going to their final rest in the salad of their dreams

[nereidprinc3ss]

candied pecans

in which uni!reader has to wake up early for a final, and spencer reid is determined to let you get as much rest as possible

fluff (18+ for mildly suggestive remarks) wc <800 warnings/tags: Spencer being a sweetheart, basically sex jokes, he makes you breakfast, gnreader a/n: I MISSED THEM BADDDD!!! this is v v short and based on a dream I had where he brought me breakfast so I could sleep in and I asked him to stay in bed while I was gone LOL

Your alarm goes off and your brow furrows like even in sleep, you’d been bracing for it. Every dream had been sterile—and worse—or potentially better—you’d dreamed about your study material.

Quickly as it started, the robotic blaring ceases. You almost slip back into sleep, but fight tooth and nail for consciousness, propping up on an elbow and rubbing your eyes in the dark grey of the early morning. Already there’s a warm hand on your chest, exerting what is more a suggestion of pressure rather than any actual force. Spencer’s voice is grainy. 

“Hey. Go back to sleep.”

“I have a final,” you slur. 

“In two hours. You can get at least another half hour of sleep.”

“But then I can’t—”

“I know, you can’t use that time to scroll on your phone. I’m terrible for even suggesting it. You were up late, honey. Come back and sleep longer and you’ll do better on your final.”

You’re already falling down. The bed is so warm, and your lids are so heavy. 

“Okay,” you mumble, eyes shut before you even hit the pillow. 

You wake up to fingers in your hair. He’s always so unbelievably gentle with you. Just as effective as an alarm clock—far more pleasant. 

“Good morning,” he says, and there’s no sleep in his voice like there was the last time you woke up. You curl into him where he sits on the side of the mattress and he cups your cheek with a warm hand. 

“Time?”

“Don’t get mad at me.”

That really wakes you up.  

“What did you do?”

“I let you sleep for a half hour!” he defends. Your brow furrows and you rub an eye, squinting up at him. That sheepish look on his face is concerning. “… Twice.”

“It’s seven?” You half yell, rocketing upward. He laughs and catches you against his chest. In your half-awake state, you can’t defend yourself, so you end up with your head cradled to his chest. But you’re not as happy about it as you’d normally be. 

“All I did was cut into your phone time, which we came to a consensus on, and your breakfast time. So I made you breakfast.”

You turn your head so you can look up at him from against his chest. 

“… Oh. You did?”

“Yes,” he says simply, picking up the plate you’d missed on the bedside table and presenting it to you. 

Two pieces of toast, each with butter and a different kind of jam because he knows you can never pick. Apple slices. Eggs, exactly the way you like them. Candied pecans, which are supposed to be for salads, and which you sneak handfuls of anyway. 

“Oh,” you murmur again. 

“There’s green tea in the mug, too. Caffeinated, obviously.”

You sit up straighter and take the plate into your lap over the blanket, nibbling on a slice of toast before kissing him. 

“Thank you,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder and studying the frosty day beyond the window, deciding how to dress for the weather as you chew. 

He slips his hand under your shirt to rub circles on your back. 

“Of course. I was actually excited to make you breakfast. How often is it that you’re running out the door and I don’t have anywhere to be?”

“How often is it that you get so badly injured Hotch makes you stay home?”

Too often, is the punchline. 

“He’s being anal,” Spencer scoffs, mood suddenly a wink soured. “A sprained ankle is hardly an injury.”

“Mm,” you hum around another bite of toast. “I’d say a fractured bone is pretty injurious.”

“He’s on your payroll, and you want me home. It’s a plot.”

“That’s ridiculous. I don’t pay him. He’s just scared of me.”

“It is pretty suspicious I got the week off just as we’re heading into your winter break.”

“Mhm. I’m gonna keep you here,” you say earnestly, snapping off half an apple slice with your teeth and offering the rest to him. “And make you watch movies and have sex all week.”

He crunches on the fruit and laughs. 

“Ambitious. I’m pretty sure it’s more likely that we watch movies and sleep all week.”

You look up at him with big eyes. 

“That’s still fun.”

“Oh, that’s exactly my idea of fun,” he says, and while those who don’t know Spencer quite as well as you do would perhaps mistake it for sarcasm, you know better. You settle back on his shoulder. 

“I think you should stay in bed, ’cause I’ll be home by 10:00. And then I’ll get here and you’ll already be all warm and cozy so we can cuddle all day.”

“Or we could have sex,” he says hopefully. 

You throw a pecan at him. 

[webslingingslasher]

https://www.tumblr.com/webslingingslasher/721605644038389760/pregnancy-scare-with-fratpeter-what-would-he-do?source=share

Is there ever a pregnancy scare after they're in the girlfriend phase?

*cleaning out my drafts. mentions of pregnancy and a slight suggestion of abortion.*

you groan at the gentle shake you're receiving and you shrug it off while half awake. you're unbelievably tired and the small window of rest you got wasn't enough.

'trouble? c'mon, get up.' peter's hand comes down rough on your backside, you whine and roll over. 'but i'm sleepy-eepy.' the warmth of peter's bed is ripped away from you, he's holding the blanket in his hands.

'now i'm cold.' and while it's not peter's fault and he's only doing what you asked, you feel a little frustrated at the knowledge of not being able to go back to sleep.

'if you get up now, i'll shower with you. ten, nine, eight, seven... that's my girl, super proud of you.'

you might've woken up grouchy, but peter set your mood right in the shower and now you keep giving his arm little kisses. 'my handsome man.' peter speaks into your hairline, 'it's just a white shirt, you heathen.'

you softly dig your teeth into the thick of his bicep while his aunt has her back turned mixing up a side salad. you pull back without a trace and talk into his skin. 'and my man looks so yummy in it.'

'see? that nap energized you more than you thought.'

'that or your precious mouth and nice way you use it on me.' peter gives you a charming smile. 'you're on a roll tonight, trouble.' you wrap your arms around his and give a final mark, it's time to be a smidge respectful in his childhood home.

peter breaks away to refill your wine glass and top may's off. you thank him with a small kiss, may thanks him by asking him to grab rolls from the oven.

---

there's a positive pregnancy test in your shaking hands. each time you blink it becomes more and more clear, you clutch your stomach as if you already had a month nine belly.

'fuck.'

what are you supposed to do?

tears fall fast, they hit your palms and positive test before you look around the bathroom. why are you alone? where's peter? you think of your boyfriend, you think of how royally fucked this makes things.

call it selfish but you wanted peter all to yourself for a few years and now you're jumping forward a hundred steps. 'fuck.' this isn't fair to either of you, you don't have it figured out yet.

you stare at the test one more time, you need to be sure. you close your eyes and count to ten, no matter how many times you try, the answer doesn't change.

'holy fucking shit, i'm-'

about to piss your pants. you fly up from the bed lightning fast, hightailing it to peter's bathroom before holding your head in your hands. you're drowsy and reminding yourself it was just a dream, but it felt so real.

but, no, just a dream. it's a dream because you're not pregnant. you just had your period... you just had it... it's only been... your stomach drops, why can't you remember? in four seconds you are wide, wide awake and you're going for your phone on peter's nightstand.

it's three in the morning and you haven't had a period in at least five weeks.

'peter, get up.' you're not soft spoken or gentle, you're full of terror and he's about to be too. you push at his arm roughly, it stirs him just enough you could break through the sleep.

'peter, get up right now.' a slow whine, you're not playing and his stubbornness is about to have you wake up the entire apartment complex. 'get the fuck up, peter.'

you're mean but it's the only thing stopping you from going full blown psycho and curling into a screaming, crying ball on his floor.

'peter,' you rush out his name one more time, this time he responds.

'what’s go-‘

'i think i'm pregnant and i'm about to freak the fuck out and i really, really need you to keep me from doing that right now.' it hits all at once, you try to breathe but you can't. it's peter's turn to fly up from the bed, he only goes as far as he needs to wrap you in a tight hug.

'trouble,' the name makes you sob, you really are trouble. 'shh, you're okay, we're okay.' it's not fair of peter to hold you calmly as if he's not scared shitless himself. 'we're so fucked, peter. i ruined everything.'

your mind is spinning and your boyfriend is keeping you grounded. 'nothing is ruined, nothing is fucked. we're okay, i promise we're okay.' no, peter's not thinking how you are. he doesn't understand what you just did to you both.

'i did, i really, really did. we just graduated, we don't live together, you're still waiting for that research position to open and my boyfriend slash baby daddy is going to die because he's also spider-man.'

it's all ruined. you don't even know what you ruined and that's the worse part, you ended it before it started.

'hey, trouble. one thing at a time, okay? we have time to figure it out if we need to. do we need to go get a test?' you nod, the idea of your dream turning into reality makes you want to sob.

'speaking of dying, i killed the last three plants ethan gave me. so, how nice is that? a dead dad and a mom who kills.' peter hugs you tighter, he wants to push all your suffering into him right now. you go one further, this is the final nail in the coffin.

'what if i'm not ready to be a mom?'

'we have time to figure-' he doesn't understand. 'no, what if i'm not ready to be a mom?' a soft kiss on your forehead tells you he read between the lines, it also tells you he doesn't resent you for the idea.

'i'm here for you, okay? i'm here for whatever decision you make and we'll figure it out together. we're a team. and i promise you, trouble, i'm not dying. kid or no kid, i won't let spider-man be the thing that does me in.'

you want this with peter, you really do. just... not now. a baby this young was never in the cards, you feel like you shouldn't be in this position but you played stupid games and won an unexpected prize.

'fuck. peter, i really think i might be pregnant.'

peter's being a strong front because you need it but he's just as unprepared as you are. 'have you been feeling sick?' you shake your head, you've felt normal until this very moment.

'i had i dream i was staring at a positive test and it felt so real that it woke me up and then i couldn't remember the last time i had my period so i looked at my phone and we're charting into week five.'

peter almost lets a curse slip, he contains it for you. 'okay, we're okay. i promise we're okay, we just need to make sure if you're pregnant or not. can you wait until morning or do we need to go now?'

peter using 'you' and 'pregnant' in the same sentence makes you want to throw up and you can't blame it on potential morning sickness. you're disgusted in yourself. this wasn't the timeline.

you couldn't last another few hours in this state, you'd go mad in record timing. 'now. right now.' in under a minute peter is stuffing a hoodie over your head and a shirt over his. you feel yourself on the verge of a breakdown but peter's outstretched hand tells you he's here for it.

---

'what if you resent me in like...' peter's already shaking his head, you can't put a date on it, what if it's now? 'wait, is it already happening? do you hate me?'

peter stops with you outside of the bodega right up the road from his apartment, he had been listening to your spiral the entire time with a calm demeanor.

'stop. i know this wasn't the plan and i know this isn't what we wanted right now but i don't want you thinking i could ever hate you or blame you for this. i wish i could make you feel better about this, trouble. i love you, i love you more than i have ever loved anything. i love you more than i thought was possible. i love you more than any song or book or movie could ever describe. and guess what? i'd love our kid just the same. shit, maybe even more cause you gave me one.'

is it hormones or is it because that's the best thing he could've ever told you at this moment? you crush him in a hug, he's a little surprised but holds you just the same. 'thank you.' for the first time since you woke up, you're able to breathe.

peter doesn't say you're welcome because you don't have anything to thank him for. he's doing what he'd do if this was however many years in the future and when it was a bit more planned. 'i didn't bring my wallet.'

peter scoffs, 'you think i'd make you pay for this?'

'i already feel like a burden.'

'trouble.' you bite your tongue, if peter can be nice enough to hold a poker face, you can stop telling yourself he secretly hates you. you need an answer and it lies inside the shop in a little box.

peter's holding the test, you couldn't bring yourself to touch it. you're standing in front of the refrigerator section staring at the drink selection, more than half focused on your reflection instead. peter catches on and taps your hand, you blink awake and look at three different cans before your brain hurts.

'what should i get?'

'whatever you want, trouble.'

'i can't think.' you can't. it's either total silence and dissociation or racing thoughts, you don't know peace anymore. if you're carrying his child, peter can pick a drink for you.

'hm. are you in the mood for something flavored?'

sweet. sugary. something to coat your mouth with a lasting aftertaste even if the news you were about to receive was on the bitter side.

'yeah.' peter nixes the three shelfs of water. 'carbonated or not?' too much of a choice, you shrug half-heartedly. 'i don't know.' peter looks behind him, a different choice entirely.

when's the last time you had an icee?

you don't notice peter walk off, you slipped back into staring at yourself in a baggy hoodie. if you jumped forward six months, how tight would it be?

peter grabs a small cup, looks at the clear-blue box in his hand and grabs a large one instead. a mixture of cherry and coke, it's nearly freezing his hand. it's going to be enough to keep your mind in the land of the living.

you find peter, lean against his back and close your eyes, he makes small movements and allows you to rest your weight on him. you're tired. mentally and emotionally. 'trouble?' you perk up again, peter halfway turns to hand over a frozen drink big enough for four.

'a slushie?' you give it a taste, you sip it down until your throat burns. 'heck yeah. and look at that, you love it.' he's not wrong. you can't remember the last time you had one and this somehow just made things a little better.

'it's making me feel better.'

'see? everyone needs some sugar now and then.'

---

for someone who made peter get out of bed at three in the morning and force him down to the corner store for a pregnancy test, you sure can't stomach the idea of taking it.

if it's a no, it'll be the biggest breath of fresh air you've ever had. if it's a yes, you and peter's life is about to forever change and you don't think you're ready for that yet.

you might not get peter to yourself for a few years, but you have him tonight and that's comfort enough. 'ready?' you intertwine your fingers with peter as he asks and pulls you out the front door. it's a quiet walk back sharing your cup of sugar before you silently creep back inside his aunt's apartment.

'ready to pee?'

you shake your head, peter offers his laptop up. ten minutes into a show, you have to go. fifteen minutes, it's pressing. twenty and you're about to burst.

you're not ready for the answer.

you'd be a bad mom.

'i drank wine tonight, peter. that's so bad, i'm such a bad person.'

'you're not a bad person, trouble. guess what? no one knows they're pregnant until they know. it's not your fault you kept living life how you normally do.'

you might've fucked things up but you chose the best person to do it with.

'i have to pee.' for just a teeny, tiny second- peter's guard faults. he's just as scared of the results, it fills you with solace. you're not the only one here who doesn't want this, even if he won't tell you so.

'want me to come with?'

you shake your head and don't even look at the box when you swipe it from his desk. your hand shakes as you tear the blue plastic, it's dawned on you that this is the first time you've ever taken one. you never thought you’d be here.

you hold your eyes closed while you do it as if the results would show immediately. you snap the cap back into place and hide it behind you. starting a five minute timer, you wait on the answer to the future.

poking your head out from his bathroom you clear your throat. 'counting down.'

'how are you feeling? still doing okay?' you nod, you're really thankful he has your back tonight. it's nice to know that when you're truly falling apart, he's your backbone.

'i love you.'

'i love you too, sweetheart.'

you've been so good and so brave this whole time, you haven't cried once. but that just broke you and you can't place why. you try to will away the sting in your eyes, it doesn't work.

a broken whimper and you can't hold it in anymore.

you fall apart and before you could collapse to the floor, peter's tucking you into his chest and kissing your head. 'shh, you're okay. i promise you're okay, you have me. you'll always have me.'

'promise?'

'i promise, trouble. don't you remember? i couldn't let you go if i tried.'

'i know you said to stop but i'm really sorry and i need you to know that.' peter feels his heart break, he must've done something wrong at some point to make you think he could ever be upset at you for this.

but peter thinks you need him to accept it. 'it's okay. i know you're sorry and it's okay.' you relax and exhale into him, you stop your tears because crying is useless and it's only making you feel worse.

'i'm being so annoying, aren't i?'

'not in the slightest, do you see how long it took you to cry?'

you sniff and wipe away any stray tears before giving peter a pathetic pucker. 'kiss, please.' you're granted the slow and soft kind, the one that is just pure care and adoration.

'will you promise to keep having sex with me if i'm pregnant?'

peter can't hold in his laugh, you hear yourself and giggle with him. 'i promise, trouble. you can get it anytime. i mean, you already do, but with my baby in you- you'll get absolutely anything you want, whenever you want.'

'even if i want cheetos at two in the morning?' peter thinks that's light work, he graces your cheek with a kiss of the same kind. 'especially then.' it's not always rainbows and butterflies. 'what about when my belly pops, my hormones hit the ceiling, my feet are swollen, i'm hot all the time, and i just constantly scream at you?'

'you wouldn't do that.' well, you're not planning on it but you have no idea what effects this will have on you. 'but if you did, i'd take it in stride. if i was carrying around twenty pounds that made me constantly want to piss my pants, i'd be grumpy too.'

'we're gonna be so tired.'

'we already are.'

you chew on your bottom lip for a moment. 'what if i get stretch marks?'

'from growing my kid? couldn't think of anything sexier, trouble.'

it's not what was planned, but if this is how it'll be, you'll be okay. peter was right, you would figure it out. together.

'you have an answer for everything.'

'that's why you love me so much. you needed to find someone who could keep up with you.'

'and oh boy can you keep up and catch me.'

you match his smile, you feel good. you feel like things aren't so ruined now. 'it's my favorite thing to do.' you scrunch your nose up at him before giving a small jump to your alarm tone.

you end the timer. 'oh god.' that.

'don't undo what we just did. no more panic, we're okay with this, right? if it's a yes, we're doing this?'

it's terrifying to think you could be a parent in under a year but something tells you that you'll be just fine with peter by your side. 'yeah, we're doing this.'

peter nods towards his bathroom door, 'ready?'

for the first time tonight, you feel confident. 'yes.' you back up for the results, wrapping your palm around the middle until you're next to peter again.

you both take a deep breath and you finally get to see the answer.

peter exhales out, 'holy shit.'

your shoulders slump when you mutter out, 'thank god.'

'holy fuck, i thought my stomach was about to come out of my ass for a second. don't get me wrong if it was-'

'i was right there with you, petey. we could've figured it out but thank god we don't have to.' you hold a hand over your heart and feel calm wash over you. 'are we bad people for being happy about this?'

peter shakes his head. 'no, not at all. we're not ready for that yet, but now we know we could be.'

you think you're speaking for the both of you and you think it needs to be said. 'to be clear, we do want kids, just later down the road. and this was just a little scare but now that we know we don't want any right now, we should be a little more careful about how we do things, right?'

'a hundred percent, trouble. you said it before i could.'

'good.' you take another peek at the test, double confirmation. 'now can you please feed me? i'm famished.'

even if you weren't pregnant, peter would do anything for you.

'anything my baby wants, she gets.'

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨

　　　　　　　　　𝒑𝒂𝒖𝒍 𝒍𝒂𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒆 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Paul finally gets the courage to say "I love you" for the first time.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, on Wattpad.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N's eyes slowly opened as she tried to adapt to the brightness of the space, rays of the morning sun completely entered through the window covered only by a thin curtain, keeping the room warm and comfortable.

The girl turned her head as she stretched lazily, a smile stretching across her cheeks as her eyes stopped on the face of her boyfriend, Paul, who was lying on his back, eyes closed and small snores coming from his half-open mouth.

Y/N shifted her body to the right, facing Paul while her head rested on his bicep, which served as her pillow every night she slept at his house.

Her eyes traveled over his face, which carried a relaxed expression. His long eyelashes rested on his tan cheeks, and his nose moved slightly from time to time, showing that his mind was immersed in some dream. Y/N felt like she could stay there all day, her left hand drawing small shapes on her boyfriend's bare chest.

After a few minutes of admiring him, the girl felt her hunger speak louder, sitting up slowly so as not to wake Paul, smiling in relief at not seeing him move even an inch, showing that he felt extremely calm and safe in her presence.

Y/N slowly got up from the bed, casting one last glance at Paul before starting her steps out of the room and towards the kitchen, her hands using the black hair tie on her wrist to tie her hair into a high ponytail.

The girl entered the kitchen, a yawn escaping her lips. She walked over to the small radio on the counter and played it, leaving it on the station she always listened to with Paul, turning down the volume a little so as not to disturb her boyfriend's sleep.

Y/N walked to the fridge and opened the door, vaguely observing the items inside, deciding to make a creamy scrambled egg with buttered bread and a fruit salad with yogurt, knowing that Paul felt hungrier than normal and a simple loaf of bread wouldn't sustain his stomach for more than 30 minutes.

She took what she was going to use, placing it on the sink and doing the same with the cabinet, organizing separately what she would use for each dish and starting to prepare breakfast.

With the bread already in the toaster and the water already heating for black coffee, the girl took a ceramic bowl and broke five eggs there, stirring them with a fork.

Sounds of footsteps echoed through the hallway between the bedroom and the kitchen, but it was imperceptible to Y/N, who was too focused on her action and the music coming from the radio.

Paul leaned his body against the threshold of the kitchen door, crossing his arms as his eyes admired his imprint preparing coffee for both of them while softly following the melody on the radio, a smile stretching across his cheeks at the scene so homely, free from weight and worry from all the chaos that has surrounded the supernatural beings of Forks over the last few months.

The opening whistle of the song "Home" by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros sounded through the room, catching Paul's attention. That song was considered one of the main songs of their relationship, as it played during the first bonfire that Y/N attended as Paul's companion. The memory of the two of them dancing together late at night, bare feet on the sand, surrounded by people they loved and lots of food was engraved in their minds.

The boy walked away from the door, going towards Y/N, who swayed her hips to the beat of the music as she passed the eggs to the frying pan on the stove.

Warm, strong arms surrounded the girl's waist, causing her to jump in place in fright, her right hand flying to Paul's arms while her left went to her chest, trying to calm her racing heart.

"You scared me!" Y/N said loudly, slapping weakly her boyfriend's arms, taking the spatula from the sink and stirring the eggs in the pan before it burns.

"Sorry, my love. Good morning." Paul responded in a whisper, resting his head in the crook of his girlfriend's neck, breathing in the natural scent of her skin and the body cream she had applied the night before after her shower. "Remember this song?"

"How can I forget? It's our song, it marked the beginning of our relationship." Y/N responded in a low voice, not wanting to burst the bubble that seemed to settle around them.

"Yes, I will never forget you dancing in that beautiful white dress that night, the bonfire behind you, and the smell of food in the air. Remembering that memory makes me love you even more." Paul commented with a goofy smile on his face, closing his eyes briefly, seeming to see the scene in front of him again.

Y/N's right arm, which was previously moving the spatula against the eggs, suddenly stopped, catching the boy's attention, who raised his face and moved so that he was next to his girlfriend, watching her with confused eyes.

"You love me?" She asked in a whisper, turning off the heat and dropping the spatula into the frying pan, turning around and facing him.

Paul replayed in his mind what he had said seconds ago, the understanding that he had said that he loved her flashed across his eyes, a nervous smile expanding on his face as his heart accelerated, fear settling in his chest.

"Yes, I love you." He revealed, knowing that was no coming back, looking at her closely, observing her reaction closely.

His heart warmed at the sight of his girl's eyes shining with tears as her mouth opened slightly in surprise, Y/N's right hand going to her own chest in disbelief.

"Oh Paul, I love you so much." She reciprocated, a tear escaping her eyes as she walked closer to her boyfriend, laying her head against his warm chest, her arms wrapping around his waist.

Paul sighed in relief, his eyes also filling with tears as he pulled Y/N closer, hugging her tightly.

"I've loved you since before I understood what that kind of love meant. The first time I saw you, I gave myself completely. When we kissed for the first time after you accepted me as yours, I became an addict and I knew that no one else could make me feel such an electric spark. Y/N, the moment I looked into your eyes for the first time, I knew I would follow you to the end of the world if necessary. And I don't say that because you're my imprint, my love for you goes far beyond that." Paul declared, pulling away slightly so he could look into his girlfriend's eyes, a huge smile decorating his features.

"Paul, it's not fair of you to make me cry at a time like this." Y/N muttered, her voice cracking with emotions. Paul brought his large hands to her face, wiping away the tears that wetted her flushed face. "I love you so much, I promise I'll be yours for the rest of our lives." She whispered, her heart overflowing with love, passion, and affection.

The boy bent down slightly, sealing his lips on hers in a slow kiss, full of the best feelings. A sigh escaped Y/N in pleasure, surrendering to the kiss and Paul's arms.

The sound of the wolf's stomach begging for food interrupted them. Y/N let out a laugh against Paul's lips, opening her eyes slowly and walking away, smiling big and turning to the stove again, going back to finishing breakfast for both of them.

Paul's arms remained around his girlfriend's body seeking contact and comfort, his heart warm, as their bodies moved slightly to the melody of the songs that sounded from the radio.

They felt like they could stay there forever, surrounded by the best feeling, love.

[bloomzone]

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦 !

“Team work makes the dream work”

- bts

Summer is here finally and it's time to make the most of every sunny day! Whether you want to stay fit, work on a passion project or just have fun with friends travel camping ... here a good routine can help you balance everything :

by: 𖧷´ bloomzone 𝅄 ׂׅ

Morning

Wake up early: Aim to wake up around 9-10 AM (not everyday is perfect sometimes I can wake up until midday)

Exercise: Start your day with some physical activity, like running, yoga, or a workout.

Healthy Breakfast: Have a nutritious breakfast to fuel your day like oatmeal or simply a smoothie and a fruit salad

Me time : Dedicate some time to a hobby or project you're passionate about like writing, painting, or learning a new skill (learning a new languages...)

Midday

Study/Work: Spend a few hours focusing on academics or other productive tasks. This could include preparing for next school year. (personally I'm not that type of person)

Lunch: Take a break and enjoy a lunch

Relaxation: Spend some time relaxing, whether it’s reading a book, watching a show, or simply take a nap

Afternoon

Social Time: Hang out with friends or family somewhere like parks forest...

Outdoor Activities: If possible, enjoy outdoor activities like swimming or playing sports (volleyball is the best sport for the beach)

Evening

Dinner: Have a light and healthy dinner (it's your choice)

Unwind: Wind down your day with relaxing activities like listening to music, meditating, or journaling

Preparation for Next Day: Spend a few minutes planning for the next day, setting goals or making a to-do list to make every day different

Night

Personal Time: Spend some time on activities you enjoy, like reading or watch ur favorite show series..

Sleep : do your skincare and go to bed around 11-12 PM to ensure you get enough rest. (Ikr it's not a anough but u know.. it's summer haha)

[dearsnow]

MANIC MOVES & DROWSY DREAMS (3)

- after discovering something that forces all of your relationship’s problems to the surface, you seek solace in your only potential friend in san diego. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fem!reader, hurt with future comfort, part of the series “out of touch” ⚠️ ADULT TOPICS, please be 18+ to read)

OUT OF TOUCH: It’s been twenty years since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw, and, suddenly, you realize he’s finally grown up.

word count: 3,110

a/n - this chapter is lowkey crazy 😭 i hope y’all enjoy because i’ve had a blast writing this. the next chapter might take a bit to write up because i need to plan out the rest of the series, but it hopefully shouldn’t take tooo long!!

The next few days were relatively uneventful as you attempted to get your life in perfect working order. There were a few visits from the navy men, with Fanboy (who you learned was actually named Mickey) being one of your best customers until he witnessed firsthand your boyfriend giving you flowers and a peck on the cheek. He seemed a bit crestfallen after that, but you knew he would perk up eventually. He hadn’t gone through it for nothing, though- you always slipped him an extra cookie sample when he came by.

The best part of your life was not interviewing potential employees or ordering more vintage tables, but instead, it was Derick. He was truly your rock in the midst of a change that otherwise would’ve thrown you into chaos.

He handled your calls, he mopped the floors and shined the counter, and he took you on amazing dates. You can firmly say that you’ve never had a boyfriend as respectful and supportive as him.

Too respectful, however, is an ever-present problem.

You’ve been with him for almost fifteen years and you can reasonably count the times he’s been anything other than a perfect family-friendly gentleman. If you look back on it, it was probably around fifty-two instances.

That seems like a lot, but spread out over fifteen years of young adult antics, it’s almost like he didn’t want to be intimate. He didn’t want to make out, or put a hand just a bit too low on your waist, or do anything passionate or fiery or heated. He just wanted dinner dates, a kiss on the cheek, and a hand to hold. You were fine with that, because in essence, that’s what you needed at the time, right? Stability. Comfort. Romance. Someone to wipe away your insecurities and hold you down at ground level.

A lingering thought, always bouncing around in the back of your mind, whispers that it shouldn’t take hours of tempting and teasing for a guy to want you.

You ignore all of that for right now. Derick is currently sitting across the table from you at the fanciest restaurant in the area.

Fancy places always make you a little nervous. You’re afraid to say the wrong thing or mispronounce a word on the menu, and your dresses get rumpled as you fidget with them. Even your nail polish doesn’t survive as you pick at the edges with your thumb. Derick smiles.

“What are you thinking about ordering?” He asks, setting his own menu down. You cease your picking and clear your throat. He looks especially nice tonight, with his dark hair gelled back and his black suit nice and crisp. It doesn’t quite fit with your dress, though you suppose it doesn’t need to.

“Uh, the caprese salad sounds good.” It’s the cheapest thing on the menu. He always pays, but you know that he gets a bit bothered when the bill racks up too high. You’ve offered to pay for yourself numerous times, but he waves the suggestion away, even when his face makes it known that he doesn’t want to.

“I make more money than you, babe, just let me take care of it.”

You try to smile sweetly, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. If he can tell, he doesn’t show it.

“Sounds good. I’m having the truffle alfredo myself.” He flags down a waiter, and you shrink a bit in your seat.

You can tell that this night is going to be another awkward one. After being with someone for so long, you come to expect certain things. Despite that, you wouldn’t trade this stability for anything. He makes good money, he buys you gifts, and once or twice a year, he’ll even sleep with you. What more could a girl want?

Bradley hasn’t had stability in a long time. He has a home in San Diego, sure, but going out for drinks every once and a while with people who have vastly different schedules isn’t really enough to make him want to stay. In truth, he almost misses being deployed because, at least then, he has a purpose.

When he saw you, he thought he might have an opportunity to right a wrong that has been tearing him up inside. He despises what he was like as a teenager, taking nothing seriously except his dreams to be a naval aviator. He’s learned throughout his life that everything matters, especially the feelings of other people, and even the small, mundane things he couldn’t care less about. The small, mundane things are what keep the world working.

He’s sitting on his couch, enjoying a small, mundane thing (a shitty reality show with acting so bad it makes him laugh) when an unknown number lights up his phone. He perks up, staring at the number as the reality show carries on. It’s probably just a spam number, but on the off chance it’s you, he picks up.

“Hello?” He hates how shaky his voice sounds. Just the idea of you sets his nerves on fire.

“I need a friend,” your soft voice mumbles. “Where can we meet? A place that serves strong alcohol would be preferable.”

Right after your early dinner date with Derick, you walked into your shared apartment, boxes lining every walkway. You really ought to have put everything away more quickly, but after a long day’s work, all you and your boyfriend could seem to do was pull out a few objects and give them a place in your new living quarters.

He immediately went to take a shower, as he usually did after a long day, and placed his locked phone on your nightstand. You collapsed onto your bed and looked up at the ceiling, still dressed, and began to dread opening shop in the morning. You love the cafe, but your lack of employees hits harder every day.

Derick had been handling most of the hiring process, with the good majority of the interviewees being his connections. It was helpful having a business major boyfriend, as his college networking and current accountant networking proved extremely useful for managing an actual business. He was always so enthusiastic about helping you run the place. You seriously don’t know what you would do without him.

His phone lit up next to you with a series of texts. You lazily let your gaze drift over to see what was going on. He wouldn’t mind if you checked who was texting, right? When you picked up his phone, the name that popped up was “employee candidate 4”. You smiled to yourself; Derick was so responsible, you thought. He must have given the candidates his number to see if they needed anything.

You unlocked his phone with your thumbprint, which you so sneakily added to his password bank a few months ago when you first started collaborating on the cafe’s business plan. What you saw made your heart drop down to the floor, splintering into a million little pieces that got stuck in your fresh linoleum.

Bradley hands you another drink, a strong one at that, and you gulp half of it down in one breath. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

You look up at him through your eyelashes, makeup half-rubbed off from tears and friction. The sun began to set when you first entered, and in the dimming light, Bradley could tell that you were rattled. You still are, evidently. He waits for a moment before you clear your throat and offer a few gut-punching words.

“I checked my boyfriend’s phone.” He can tell where this is going. He doesn’t want it to be true, because who in their right mind would cheat on you?

“What was on it?” He prompts gently. You take another breath. You don’t want to dump this all on someone that you barely know, with the only history you have being a failed almost-relationship when you were teenagers, but you don’t have anyone else. When you moved to San Diego, you left everything behind, including your friends and family. You haven’t even talked to your friends in ages, as you’ve been so busy with the cafe and Derick that you couldn’t so much as call them. The idea of having Bradley nurse your broken heart is both gut-wrenching and just a little bit like a dream.

“A lot. I… I don’t want to ruin your night by bothering you. I should go.” You try to stand up from your bar stool, but he catches your wrist in his warm hands.

He shakes his head, eyebrows creased. “Just tell me. I’m here for you; I meant what I said in the cafe.” You nod, fresh tears welling up in your eyes as you sit down.

“I’ll get a few drinks in me first.”

You keep your word, managing to take down a sizable amount of alcohol within a few minutes. It’s not enough to get you passing out or throwing up, but enough to loosen your lips.

“Do you want to know what I saw?” Your face is warm, either from the alcohol or Bradley’s hand on your back. “Twenty-eight photos of his dick. It isn’t even good enough to warrant one photo, Bradley, one! None of them were sent to me, of course. Just the girls he would chat up online and fuck.” The words tumble out of your mouth, every pent-up frustration making its way into the light of the bar. “I looked through his search history, too, and then our finances, because I was suspicious of everything at that point. I found four subscriptions to porn sites in our bills and three more for online dating premium memberships. Who the fuck even needs a premium membership? God. I hate him.”

“Slow down, princess.” He says. His lips are quirked into a small smile as you ramble on and on about every small thing Derick has ever done to piss you off. “He seems like a real piece of work.”

“He is! He so is. I never get to order what I want, he always makes me feel responsible for his mistakes, and not once has he made me finish. I mean, we’ve had sex maybe twice in the last two years because he can’t get it up. Probably because he’s been sticking his dick in STD central.” Those last few items slip through your internal filter, but even in your state, you recognize that you probably shouldn’t be talking about your sex life with a guy you re-met a few days ago. “Sorry. That was personal.”

Bradley lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “Nothin’ I can’t handle. I can’t believe you stayed with him that long when he can’t do a single thing for you. If you were my girl, you wouldn’t know a day without pleasure.” It’s his turn to be embarrassed about what he said, but as his cheeks turn red, you don’t even seem to notice.

If you were his girl, he thinks, he’d treat you so well. He’d actually get you your favorite flowers instead of the ones he thinks would look nice in the aesthetic of your apartment, and he’d cook for you, and he’d never make you feel bad for loving him.

“Exactly.” You say. “He just wanted someone to come home to without even thinking about how I would feel. I wanted stability, and he gave me that, but nothing else.” You suddenly sound sober, but the tears are back, and they’re stronger than ever. “I loved him.” You choke out. “I don’t think I could ever get something better, not after so long.”

Bradley feels bad for even considering picking you up after this. You’re distraught, more than he’s ever seen anyone before. It’s clear that this is something you’re going to take a while to heal from. “You can and you will. He’s a dick, and I’m sorry you wasted so much time on him, but you will find some kind of relationship that deserves you. You can have a fresh start, and he’ll just be another asshole that you put in your past.”

You nod, taking in his words as you sip your soda. Bradley cut you off a while ago, which you’re eternally grateful for. If you had one more sip of alcohol, you think you'd either be dancing on a table or crying on the floor. Now, at least you’re crying upright in a stool, with the man across from you handing you tissues once in a while. The lady running the bar seems to know him, and she also seems to know that an endless supply of tissues is necessary for you tonight.

The doors of the bar open, and though you don’t want to peel yourself away from the sight of someone caring about you, you turn around anyway. When you do, your blood runs cold.

Bradley sees you stiffen and follows your line of sight to the person that just walked in. He’s handsome, in a way, with short, dark brown hair and a five-o-clock shadow. He seems like the stuck-up type. Your eyes are blown wide at the sight as the man walks over, a sort of fake concern lacing his expression.

“Baby-“

“Don’t fucking call me that, Derick. How did you even find me?” Oh. The soon-to-be ex. Bradley sits up on his stool, pulling himself to a position where he can easily stand if the moment calls for it.

Derick pulls out his phone sheepishly. “You left your location on.”

Goddamnit. Fuck.

“Get out. I don’t want to see you right now.” You’re seething, the anger coming off you in waves. You think that if you weren’t angry, you’d be sad, and you can’t handle that right now. The devastation of finding out your boyfriend is a freak and a cheater is something you just opened the box to, and you don’t feel like unpacking it in front of him.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He protests. “They didn’t mean anything to me. I love you, and I want to marry you, and I’ll never do it again. I- I have the ring right here, see?” He pulls out a familiar velvet-lined box, and you scoff.

“You should’ve thought about that before you cheated. Multiple times.”

Bradley stands up, placing a soothing hand between your shoulder blades. “Leave, man. She’s made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want you here.”

Derick bristles, his pasty face tinged red with anger. Bradley almost rolls his eyes at how small he looks. “You don’t need to stick up for her.” He takes a step forward. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were fucking her behind my back. That’s what this is, isn’t it? An excuse for you to leave me because some navy fucker had some nice enough sex with you?” He’s approaching fast. By the time he finishes his sentence, Derick’s fist is wrapped around your wrist tightly.

You let out a soft sound as his bruising fingers close around you, but as soon as he’s there, Bradley shoves him away and loosens his grip on you. “Okay, that’s enough. You’re either going to walk through those doors or you’re getting dragged out. I don’t care which.”

Derick scoffs. “Fine with me. I never liked you anyways.” He gives you a pointed glance, tucking the ring box into his jacket pocket.

“You have tonight to get your stuff out of the apartment that I paid for.” You say, rubbing the space between your eyebrows with your thumb. “I never want to see you again.” The second part comes out as a mumble, but he clearly gets the message.

“Fuck you.” He walks out, and the group of navy men by the door give him a dirty look. He’s more than ruined multiple peoples’ nights by this point. It went from one crying girl at a bar to the start of a bar fight in the two minutes he stood in front of you.

Bradley, concerned, gives you a soft look. “Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?”

You shake your head as more tears drip down your jaw. You hate this. You hate Derick, you hate yourself, and you hate the pitiful way Bradley is staring at you. Your California dream has turned into a nightmare. “No, but I’ll get a hotel somewhere. It’s not that big of a deal.” Your attempt to downplay the situation has Bradley on the verge of running after Derick and slapping the back of his big groomed head. You’re too nice for this, too sweet to be cheated on and forced to sleep in a cold bed that you paid $200 for.

“You can stay over at my place if you want. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I don’t want to put you out like that. It’s fine,” you assure him, though your voice is the least sure it’s ever been. “There’s a nice enough place a few streets away.”

Bradley shakes his head. His warm hand is on your shoulder, like he’s trying to ground you. “It won’t put me out. C’mon, princess, it’s not a big deal. You can rest up and we’ll figure out what else to do in the morning.”

He called you “princess” again. It’s nice, you think, in your drunken mind. Right now, you’re too tired to fight anything about the situation you’re in. “Alright. As long as you’re sure.”

He pays your tabs, slipping a look to the lady running the bar. She nods at him and mouths something that you can’t quite make out. As he leads you to his car, a nice, blue, vintage bronco, he keeps one hand on the small of your back. The heat feels nice, like you have someone securing you. Like you won’t ever stumble or fall before his strong arms catch you. He must be a real nice guy if he’s doing all this after so long.

He buckles you into your seat, and you let your head fall back onto the headrest. Your eyes close, and you desperately try not to think about what your life has come to. You feel a buzz in your jacket pocket, but you don’t pick it up. Everything is fine, you assure yourself. You didn’t just break up with the man you were going to marry, and he didn’t cheat on you, and your phone isn’t going off wildly through the fabric of your coat, and you’re not strapped into the car of your high school self’s dream boy. You ride that feeling, that denial, right into sleep.

You’ll deal with the real life problems in the morning.

PREVIOUS || NEXT

Taglist: @m1dnightsnackz @itsarabellebabes @shanimallina87 @sadgirlgiselle @callsignstingray

[elliespassagerprincess]

Mary - (ellie williams x reader)

for @fleshunger ty for being patient, ily <3

This story is based off the song Mary by Alex G, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading! There is another version to this fic! You can read it here:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open again! send me your silly thoughts

warnings: angst.

Summary: in which you left her to rot

authors note: lmao yall probably hate me for posting so much, forgive me pookies, I swear after tomorrow i'll post less....

Mary is the girl that I wanna kiss

She's got big red eyes and big red lips

She's got big sharp teeth and big fat hips

Mary is the girl that I wanna fuck

She's got leather heart and leather gloves

She's the only girl that I wanna love

"I wanna kiss her so bad" Ellie vented to Dina.

Dina rolled her eyes at Ellie.

She was in love. Really in love.

In all the years Dina has known Ellie she has never seen her this down bad.

"What's so special about this girl anyway?" She asked as she took a bite from Ellie's sandwich.

"What type of a question is that?" Ellie asked. She felt disrespected on your behalf.

"She's got beautiful eyes- and she looks good with red lipstick. Even without lipstick, her lips are so kissable"

A small smile appeared on Dina's face as she listened to her friend describe the girl she was so deeply in love with.

"She's got big fat hips too and I just want to eat her-"

"woah Ellie calm down, that's too much information"

Ellie's face went red with embarrassment.

"How'd you meet her" Dina asked.

"at a fruit Market" Ellie replied with a shrug.

Bananas or oranges?

Bananas?

Oranges?

Ellie was currently thinking about what she should get as she stood in front of the fruit stand. Since when was it so fucking difficult to choose fruit?

"If you think harder, much you might explode" she heard someone chuckle next to her.

Ellie turned to where your voice was coming from, her heart rate suddenly increased.

Angles are fucking real.

"um- yeah" Ellie responded awkwardly.

She cleared her throat and she fixed her posture.

"Bananas or orange?" She asked you.

What the fuck Ellie? Why would you fucking ask that?

You turned your head to look at the fruit, before you reached out to grab a banana.

"It looks fresher" you shrugged as you gave the banana to her.

Your fingertips brushed against hers, and a shock of electricity ran through Ellie.

Her palms felt sweaty, she couldn't breathe.

Focus Ellie. Focus.

"Thank you" You gave her a small smile as you started walking away.

'C'mon Ellie make your move' she thought to herself.

"hey wait!" Ellie yelled as you started walking away.

You turned around to look at her.

"Can I have your number?"

"That's fucking cliché" Dina laughed.

"shut up" Ellie muttered annoyed.

The two girl fell into a comfortable silence as Ellie's thoughts wondered to you.

Oh you would've loved this salad. You would've loved this ice tea. Maybe she should've asked you to come out instead of Dina

*ding*

Ellie reached down to grab her phone. It was you.

Her girl.

Not officially her girlfriend yet, but soon.

She clicked onto the notification with your name.

"Come over please"

fuck yes

Ellie jumped up, and she looked at Dina with a grin.

"My girl is looking for me"

Dina laughed at her friends excitement.

"go get her tiger"

Ellie gave Dina a hug as she ran towards your apartment.

Today she felt confident. Today she was the day she was going to ask you to be her girlfriend. You messaging her was a sign from the gods above.

Ellie's legs were hurting, and she was out of breathe but she was on her way to finally tell the girl of her dreams that she was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

Listen to me, baby, I don't mind

I wanna be with you and waste my time

Give it to me, baby, I feel good

I wanna feel whatever you think I should

Sing it for me, baby, play my song

I wanna hear your daddy sing along

Mary is the girl that leaves you to rot

She says, "I am real and you are not"

She says, "I am real and you are not"

Ellie knocked at your front door.

She kept knocking and she's been standing outside of your apartment for the last 10 minutes.

Where were you? Maybe you were laying dead on the floor?

Ellie knocked and knocked but yet you never came.

Was this a prank?

She held the doorknob as she opened the door.

It was open this whole time.

Ellie slowly walked into your apartment, and she looked around the place you called home.

It felt oddly empty.

The little trinkets you kept around was all suddenly gone.

The apartment filled with so much life at one point, suddenly dull and lifeless.

Ellie's eyes went around the room and her eyes landed on a white envelope.

On the front was your pretty handwriting and Ellie's name decorated the front.

With shaky hands Ellie picked it up, and she opened it.

Dear Ellie

Or should I say banana girl?

She chucked remembering your first interaction.

I'm sorry for what I'm about to tell you, please don't hate me. I truly never wanted to hurt you Ellie. But I know you have feelings for me. I don't feel the same way. I never wanted to reject you, because I valued our friendship too much. So for the sake of your feelings, I left. I changed my number, so you wont be able to message me. I'm sorry Els.

I love you.

Ellie didn't realize that she started shaking till she finished reading the letter.

She tore the letter apart and her knees buckled.

She fell to the ground sobbing.

You made feel so alive, but you just killed her again.

All the love Ellie had for you was rotting away into hated.

She loved you so much but you left her to rot.

[2cool4ghoul]

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Part 1 <3 Part 2 of I Can Dream, Can't I?

AO3 link <3

Word count: 4,454

Summary: You get dragged along to one of your husbands business dinners with his insufferable obnoxious colleagues. But when one of the attendees can't take his eyes of you, you begin to question his intentions...

Warnings: Smut, semi-public sex, fingering, swearing, AFFAIRS I guess, an adulterer, smoking?, unprotected sex, p in v, age gap

Hiiiiiiiiiii

cannot believe that part 1 did so well, that's big fun vibes thank u for reading it and enjoying that with me ! I apologise for how long this took me however life got ahead of me.

we have a flashback episode today to provide some lore and content for you and coopers past. I had intended to include some present ghoul content in this however it got so long that I have to split it up. sorry bout that.

<3<3<3<3<3 <3<3<3<3<3 <3<3<3<3<3 <3<3<3<3<3

It had started just like any other dinner. Your husband, parading you like a trophy, in a ridiculously tight dress, for all his likeminded businessmen colleges to congratulate him on. The line rehearsed and repeated every single time. “This, gentlemen, is my gorgeous wife, you can look, but keep your hands to yourselves.” It was becoming increasingly difficult to fake the smile that had made you famous, ignoring the jeers and laughs, which had been meant as compliments. 

This particular dinner, was with executives and stars from the studio he’d recently snatched up with the promise of making you a star. And whilst every night was the same, the same men, the same stares, the same pressed suits and watches, cigar smoke, martini’s…. There was one particular entity who seemed to catch your gaze from the other side of the table. He’d been watching your every move it felt like, his following your silk gloved fingers as you lit your cigarette. 

You took note of his features and of his silence amongst the loud overbearing men. His eyes seemingly closed in the dimly lit restaurant, his lips wet with whiskey, no doubt as he sat back relaxed in his chair. His staring was uncomfortable, like he was trying to figure you out, looking deep behind the facade you’d been forced into, hiding any remnants of your past life on the farm. You blew smoke from your lips, the conversations around you had faded, letting your eyes gaze away from his for a moment, only to look back to confirm if he was still looking, which he was. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d of thought this was a proposition. This caused you to tense, finally addressing his forwardness.

“Didn’t your mother teach you that it was rude to stare?” You finally broke your silence, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. With your back straight, a scowl had painted your face as he released a scoff, adjusting himself in his seat. Robert, looked between the two of you as a silence had fell upon the table.

“Please, Mr Howard, excuse my wife’s forwardness, she gets a bit overexcited at times!” He apologised, waving a hand in the air before turning towards you, who’s eyes were still locked with the mans. Who you now knew to be ‘Mr Howard.’ “Hon, Thats Cooper Howard, he’s a pretty big name at the studio, don’t go causing a scene.” He warned, his voice low, spoken into your neck with a kiss. It was a threat, one that you knew would be further implemented the moment you arrived home. You pouted like a scolded child, turning your attention to your martini in front of you, taking a large sip. You glanced from behind the glass rim, Coopers attention no longer on you, but with a man beside him. You had won a small victory, your point had been made and he was no longer staring you down. 

The rest of the meal seemed to carry on as usual. The waitress had come round to get the tables order, a side salad ordered for you, more martinis. Conversations of business, of the war, ill-timed political jokes and opinions. Over the past year or so, you’d managed to master the art of disassociation, your body being present at the table yet your mind was back in the fields, tending to the animals, hanging your clothes on the washing lines to dry… You could rehearse an entire daily routine so well that you could’ve sworn you could smell the morning dew on the grass, the breeze causing goosebumps to peak on your skin. Yet every now and then, a drunken obnoxious laugh would tear you from the safeness of your mind, reminding you that you were still there amongst these men. Where had it all gone wrong? 

You needed air.

“Excuse me, boys,” You spoke lowly, “I’m going to go powder my nose.” The men nodded towards you, Robert lifting his head to get a better look at you. Pushing your bleached blonde curls over your shoulder, you placed a red lipped kiss on his cheek, leaving an imprint you knew would anger him. Smirking on your heel, you walked as he hastily scrambled to remove any trace of the make up left on his skin. 

On your travels to the ladies room, the effect of the, god knows how many, drinks had taken their toll on you, causing a slight stumble in your step. You ended up finding a secluded garden area, lights hanging from branches of trees, twinkling. There was a chill in the nights air, but you preferred the silence, listening to the crunch and rustle of the leaves in the wind. Leaning against a brick wall, you lit a cigarette, staring up into the stars, creating your own constellations. A lonesome smile ghosted your lips, finding peace in this moment to yourself, watching the smoke dissipate into the blue darkness. You could run. Leave and never look back. But where you would go? You were sure the farm had been sold months ago, despite how much Robert denied it. The very thought of it bought a lump to your throat, your jaw clenching, biting the side of your cheek. 

The door to your hiding place opened, your head rolled to the side to examine who opened it. Your admirer from the opposite end of the table. A soft hum of acknowledgement left you, rolling you head back to the stars, flicking ashes from the end of the cigarette. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Closing the door behind him, he stepped closer.

“No, not at all.” Kissing your teeth and keeping your eyes forward, you felt his presence close next to you. “You not enjoying yourself, Mr Howard?” 

“No, no, its not that,” Chuckling coolly, the click and snap of a metal lighter illuminating your peripheral, “Politic’s is not really my area of expertise.” 

“Right.” You nodded a sigh, finally allowing yourself to turn and meet his eye-line.

Upon closer exception you realised he was really rather handsome. A classic look to him, dark hair pushed back with noticeable grey hairs peaking through. His bone structure was distinct, chiselling and framing his face. Those eyes which had been looked on you, twinkling in the sparse lighting. Your tongue ran over your bottom lip, the taste of nicotine filling your mouth. You didn’t know his age, but he was definitely significantly older than you. “I don’t believe I got your name?” His voice was smooth, making your stomach do flips.

“I don’t believe that I said it.” You smirked, staring up at him through your lashes due to him standing much taller than you, even when he was leaning on his shoulder against the wall. He let out a laugh, raising his eyebrows, waiting for a response to his answer. “Lana.” Lying, you held out your hand for him to shake, keeping your real name close to your chest. 

“Lana,” Testing the name on his lips, he blew smoke in your direction which you inhaled through your nose discreetly, “what a pretty name, for such a pretty young girl, like yourself.” The smile that he was flashing you caused you to roll your eyes, releasing a sarcastic giggle.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Only the pretty ones,” He teased you, winking at you. You pretended not to notice his eyes trailing down to your chest, stealing a glance at your exposed cleavage from his height advantage.

“What about the married ones?” Raising a brow, you bit back at him, the smirk on your lips letting him know that was a sadistic joke at your own expense.

“Where you from, Lana?” His question was heavier than he knew. Something about him made you want to tell him the truth. But you couldn’t just reveal yourself to any man who made you smile.

“Why’d you wanna know?” Suppressing your southern accent had never been more important, the recognition of his own caused you to work extra hard to hide yours.

“It’s called small talk, somethin’ tells me you’re not too good at it.” He wrapped his lips around his cigarette again, your breathing heavy as you kept your gaze focussed on his mouth, inhaling the smoke. 

“I grew up in New York, moved here after I met Robert 2 years ago.” The story and all of its details had been a fabricated story made up by Robert so that you could prove yourself more marketable. A socialite from New York, from a rich distinguished family.

“Is that so?” He seemed intrigued, letting his lips turn downward. “And now, your gonna be filming at the studio, huh?”

“Are you interrogating me, Mr Howard?” It came out more seductive than stern, a way of avoiding anymore questions by distracting him. “I hear you play a big time sheriff in your movies,” You stepped closer to him, the amusement evident on his face as he sized you up, “you gonna cuff me up?” You could tell he was thinking about it, his answer hesitating on his lips. You wished he would, there was something so enticing about him, his whole demeanour and charisma causing you to ache between your legs, feeling the dampness against the lace covering your heat.

“Now, what would your husband think about that?” This was a fun game for him, the way you were looking up at him, so willing and eager sending shivers down his spine.

“What he don’t know wont hurt him.” Shrugging playfully, you fluttered your lashes, watching as he licked his lips, a taunted groan leaving from his chest.

“You’re real trouble, you know that?” He waved a finger at you, you tempted wrapping your mouth around it, sucking down to the knuckle, your spit dripping around him as he filled your mouth. Instead you smacked it away lightly, remembering your place. You turned away from him in a way to release some of the attention, your mind roaming to unholy places. 

“I’m a good girl, Mr Howard.” Scoffing, your cheeks ached as they tried to conceal the wild grin he was pulling from you. Maybe it was the confidence from the drinks swirling around your system, but this was the most exciting and arousing interaction you’d had. Everything with Robert felt so transactional, ticking boxes out of necessity. But this was different.

“I bet you are.” He praised and you pretended shock at his forwardness.

“I’m not that kind of girl.”

“And I’m not that kind of man.” He raised his hands in defence, yet when they lowered, one brushed against the bare skin of your arm, a quiet gasp leaving your lips, turning back round to face him, becoming aware of how alarmingly close he now was to you. His breathe was fanning over your wet lips, your cheeks flushing to an embarrassingly shade of red. You were locked in eye contact, for what felt like the millionth time that night, watching as he undressed you with his eyes. 

There was silence between the two of you, all except for the heavy breathing leaving both of you, wondering who would make the next move, wondering what the next move even was. This was wrong. It was wrong because you were married, it was wrong because two hours previous to this you didn’t even know he existed, it was wrong because you were pretty sure he could’ve been the same age as your father, maybe even older. But you felt electric, like you skin was on fire and only he could put it out. You wanted him to put it out, you would’ve dropped to your knees and pleaded with him for anything. Maybe it was the adrenaline of getting caught. Maybe it was the way he was eliciting such innate desire from you, from just the tiniest of interactions. You were aching for him, and judging by the tightness and the way he was adjusting himself in his trousers, he was aching for you too.

“You love your husband?” His question took you off guard, yet you didn’t hesitate to answer.

“No.” Shaking your head quickly, your eyes were wide. Biting his lip, he allowed himself a moment to ponder the morals he was breaking. 

“Goddamn, what am I going to do with you, huh?” His hand came up to brush your cheek, pushing away a few stray hairs, his fingers grazing your skin so gently, you were starved for more. You decided to pursue an earlier desire, his thumb carelessly brushing against your bottom lip for a second, leaving you free to take advantage. 

You parted your lips, allowing the tip of your tongue to taste him first, before pushing your head forward, maintaining widened eye contact, taking his thumb into your mouth. You sucked around him, your tongue working around, tasting as much as you could, trying to savour the moment in case he, fairly, ripped his hand from you as punishment for taking it too far. You waited for this, yet he did not. He knitted his brows, mouth falling slightly slack before tutting at you. “Fuck this.” He muttered, taking his hand from your mouth and instead wrapping it around your neck, forcing you forward. 

He forced his lips on you, taking the dominance, leaving you whimpering at the sudden feeling of his mouth hot against yours. Pushing against him, trying to feel as much of him as possible, hands finding themself tightly squeezing the wrist of his hand, still gripping your neck. His tongue licked against your lips before finding its way into your mouth, working alongside yours as the kiss deepened, your cunt squeezing around nothing, begging for something to soothe the throbbing ache that was pooling between your legs. When his hand finally left your neck, it was replaced by his lips, smudging red lipstick down your chin and neck. His hand travelled down your chest, taking a moment to squeezed your breast on the way down, frustrated by the layers of material that stopped him from getting a better look at you. By this point, he had you pinned against the rough exterior of the brick wall, his body pressed against yours, thigh between your legs. “Oh, Mr Howard.” You moaned between bitten lips, head falling back exposing more of your neck to him. 

“Call me Cooper.” He muttered, “If we’re doing this, we’re at least gonna be on a first name basis, alright, sweetheart?” Your heart fluttered at the pet name. 

“Mmhmm Cooper- Oh!” Whilst you nodded in agreement, his fingertips had found their way under your dress skirt, hoisting it up your legs. The cold air tingled against your wet cunt, legs squeezing against his thigh. 

“Christ, look at you.” He mumbled to himself, bitting his lip, taking in the sight of the mess you’d made in your panties. “Need me that badly, huh, doll?” You could only make out an embarrassed hum in response, blushing at his southern drawl which made everything eel so much more erotic. He touched you through the lace, leaving the thin layer on to tease you even more. You needed as much friction as possible, grinding against his fingers, feeling a tension building within you, that you’d never felt before. His fingertips seemed to focus where it was most sensitive, having no issue finding your clit even through your panties. The sweat blanketing your body make your make up run slightly. Tipping you head forward, you looked down, watching him play with you, his fingers damp even with the barrier of lace keeping him out. You were biting your lip to stop moans from escaping you. You couldn’t explain the feeling taking over your body, every inch of you reacting, goosebumps covering every bit of skin, nipples hard. 

“Please.” You couldn’t stand much longer, meeting his gaze again. You didn’t even know what you were begging him for or what he was willing to give you. You just knew that every part of you needed it, heart racing like it was going to jump out your chest. “Please Cooper, give it to me, I need you.” You planted kisses over his face, moving to just behind his ear, sucking and eliciting a growl from him, his hand pushing aside the soaking lace. 

“Dripping for me, aren’t ya, angel, making a mess?” He use his other hand to push hair out of your face to view the pathetic ruin he’d caused. You’d open your mouth to agree with him, telling him anything you’d believe he wanted to hear, but you words were stopped and choked in your throat due to his finger fucking its way into you. He was wasting no time, the slap of his skin and the wetness of your cunt erupting into the quiet night. Your eyes squeezed shut and he released a smug chuckle, proud of himself for the reaction he was causing. 

Upon adding another finger, he had to force his other hand over your mouth as you frantically tried to keep in your moans, his fingers curling inside you finding the sweet spot that was sending you over the edge. “It’s gon’ be a tight fit, princess, you best kept that pretty little mouth shut,” He pressed his lips to your ear, “can you do that for me, you gon’ be a good girl for me?” You could only silently nod and hum in response, his hand firm over your mouth. “Good girl.” He pressed a kiss to your ear.

You felt empty when he removed his fingers to unbuckle his belt, the jangle of the metal stirring excitement within you. With one finger, he tugged your panties down your thighs and you stepped out of them, shocked when he shoved them into his back pocket. “I’ll look after those.” He smirked, winking at you at your flushed cheeks, hand finally leaving your mouth. He pulled his cock free, your eyes went big seeing the size of it, hard, his fist pumping around it as he scoffed at your reaction. “Told ya, sweetheart, tight fit.” He let go of himself, hand reaching round to slap your ass, gesturing for you to jump up, your dress bunching round your waist. You did so, wrapping your legs around his waist. His forehead rested against yours as you both watched him line himself up with your throbbing entrance. “You sure you want this, sweetheart?” He kissed you lightly on the lips, his tip pressing against you, hot.

“I need you, Cooper Howard.” You pleaded against his lips, begging for the tension within you to be relieved somehow. Groaning at your response, he nodded.

His cock stretched you, squeezing around him, eyes rolling back into your head. Unable to make noise as you winced, mouth wide open. He also, silently, bit his lip, breathing through his nose through a frown. Your slick cunt pulled him in, he seemed to not end, leaving you panting by the time he’d bottomed out. You were gasping for air, going slightly lightheaded as he filled you, giving you a moment to adjust. Your hands were splayed out against his chest, his own heart beating against your palm. “Can I?” His voice almost desperate.

“Please, fuck me.” Nodding, you buckled your hips forward, forcing friction and movement from him.

When he finally moved, he tediously pulled out all the way, making sure you felt every inch of you, watching as you dripped a white sheen cast on his cock, before snapping brutally into you. You gripped at the suit jacket, knuckles turning white at this harsh movement. This was the start of a cruelly quick pace, slapping into you whilst his balls fell against your bare ass. “Oh fucking christ,” He cursed his head falling into the curve of your neck, gasps leaving your open mouth, “You’re taking me so fuckin’ well, darlin’” Cooper gripped on your hips, holding you in place whilst he relentlessly fucked into you, his cock forcing you open. 

You had been trying your hardest to hold in your moans, but to no avail, so his hand had returned to your mouth. Your eyes had rolled back into your head, the white showing. Pleasure was rampaging through your body, your back arching into him, gripping onto him. Watching him disappear into you made you turn dizzy, feeling him deep inside you, brushing and pressing against your cervix. Your hands tugged at the buttons on his shirt, pushing your hands under to touch as much of him as possible, leaving one against his skin, the other lacing through his hair, pulling him closer.

Tears were running down you face, your make up well and truly ruined, smeared everywhere, read covering his face too. “Look at me, Angel” He commanded, “Feel good? Yeah?” His lips were brushing against your forehead before meeting your covered face, your curls coming loose. “My cock feel good?” He whispered against your neck, earning another delighted hum from you. “I can feel how much you love it.” He thrusted into you, pushing deep as you walls clenched around his heavy girth.

The build up had grown too much for you, you were begging to let go, to let your body rest and release. And he was coaxing it out of you too quick and too sweet, you didn’t know what was coming. The heat pooling in your lower stomach like nothing you’d felt before. You couldn’t explain it but when your body became so hot, heart beat so fast, your whole stomach clenched. “You coming for me, princess, go on, good girl, come around this cock.” He furrowed his brows at your feeling your body tremble and go rigid, your grip becoming deadly around him, eyes squeezed shut. His pace slowed slightly, so he could feel every squeeze every contraction. You had never felt this sensation before, like your whole body had just been ignited. His hand did little to cover the moans, only muffled them as you cursed vision blurry, stars filling your vision. 

After giving you little time to recover, your body slightly limp, he proceeded in using your cunt to fuck himself to his climax. You’d made a creamy mess, forming at the bottom of his cock. He didn’t care, he seemed to enjoy it more, unable to keep a steady pace, growing needy of his own release. He dropped his hand, gripped at your waist again as you pulled him closer for a kiss, using that a buffer for the whines and whimpers. His lips were frantic against you, biting your lip. “I’m close.” He growled and you locked your legs around his waist, keeping him deep inside you.

“Please, give it to me, please.” You whined, his hand returning to lock around your neck, forcing you to look at him in the eyes whilst he filled you up.

Grunting, he buried himself deep into you, feeling as he emptied everything he had in you. You were warm inside, content and stuffed. He was blinking, regaining his steadiness, littering kisses over your face, sweat beading over his forehead. He gradually let your legs drop down, fulling your dress back down to somewhat of its original state. You were wobbly, clarity finally coming over your lust clouded mind. He’d rubbed his face and then stuffed himself back into his trousers, looking you up and down as you timidly stood against the wall, expecting him to tell you what a bad thing you’d done, about how you should tell no one about this ever. 

“I guess you are that kind of man, Mr Howard.” You joked, breaking the silence whilst wiping your dried tears with the back of your hand. He did a double take at your before chuckling and shaking his head.

“I guess I am.” He buckled up his belt, readjusting the crumpled suit jacket. “People will be wondering where we are.” He tipped his head towards the door and you suddenly remembered where you were. 

“Right, yes, of course.” You brushed your hair with your fingers, trying to create some semblance of dignity whilst his cum dripped down your inner thigh.

“I’ll see you back at the table.” He smirked, looking you up and down, turning towards the door, leaving you standing meekly. You watched him leave, the bunched up bulge of your white lace panties peeking over the top of his trouser pocket. 

After a quick trip to the bathroom to wet your face and try to remove any traces of what just happened. That was dirty, you’d been a dirty, low down girl. Here you were, wiping another mans semen from your thighs whilst your husband waited for you in the other room. It made you feel slightly sick, now that you were alone and had time to think about it. But the way he’d made you feel was like any other. You still didn’t understand what had happened to your body, but you were sure he caused it. And that was something you wanted to feel over and over again. Readying yourself to face not only your husband, but also Cooper, you believed you were finally presentable to return to the table and although you’d sobered up, you still walked with a stumble due to the lack of Coopers body between your legs. 

When you had returned, you were disappointed to see no Cooper at the table, his seat empty, his coat missing from the back of it. You did little to hide this disappointment, Robert turning to face your flush body. “Here she is, I was beginning to believe you’d gotten lost!” He scoffed loudly and you remained standing.

“I don’t feel very well, I would like to go home.” You spoke dead pan.

“God! There must be something in the water, Howard said the same damn thing!” He slapped his thighs, standing up and planting a wet scratchy kiss on your cheek, making you quiver.

You’d made a swift exit, waiting in the car with your legs squeezed shut, keeping quiet. Cooper’s own quick exit had made you feel like a whore. Which you supposed thats all you were. You shouldn’t have enjoyed that as much as you did. And having Robert in the car beside you, a chauffeur driving you two to your shared home, made you feel 10 times worse. He wasn’t a good husband, or a loving one or an intimate one. But you were making a fool of him. And that scared you. “I was hoping you’d get to talk to Cooper Howard, but you being sick and all…” He trailed off.

“Why?” You turned to him.

“Because I got you a role in a movie with him.”

Fuck.

[accio-victuuri]

xiao zhan elle september issue cover story

Xiao Zhan believes in simplicity. But in acting, he increasingly likes multi-faceted and complex characters.In other words, this is an authentic state of human existence. At a time when everything is being simplified, Be willing to admit that people are different,Seek communication possibilities, Be sensitive and defend complexity, This must require love and courage.

01.

After entering the entertainment industry, these things quickly became part of his daily life - cameras, spotlights, display screens, shields. Due to his profession and popularity, countless "Xiao Zhan" have emerged, including huge portraits on the facades of high-end shopping malls, the projections of an astonishing number of fans, or the appearance of characters in the film and television dramas that have been released one after another.

Right now, in the dressing room after the shooting, Xiao Zhan is holding his box of whole grain salad, vividly imitating the scene of meeting director Zheng Xiaolong.

"I was a little confused, so I asked the director whether he wanted me to be thinner or stronger. He said, 'Thinner, of course thinner, it will look so good and sharp.'" After a while, when we were taking the final photos, Zheng Xiaolong saw him again, "He said, 'Wow, you look good like this.'" From then until now, he has lost more than ten pounds.

Xiao Zhan, the source of all fission, is decent and relaxed. The glamour seen by the outside world is an added value for him. Sometimes he even forgets about it, "Really no one will care about you." Then he continues to talk about his work.

The most recent one is "Legend of the Hidden Sea", which was filmed in Hengdian for 5 months. The previous one, which also took 5 months to shoot, was "The Legend of the Condor Heroes: The Greatest Hero" directed by Tsui Hark. This is often the case with large-scale movies and long TV series. Once you join the crew, it takes four or five months. In 2022, his main filming work was "Where Dreams Begin" and "Sunshine by my Side", in 2021 it was "Yu Gu Yao", in 2020 it was "Ace Troops", and in 2019 it was "Douluo Dalu" and "Oath of Love".

There are constant offers for plays, so sometimes I can’t decide whether to lengthen or shorten the time between plays.

In the second half of 2019, when filming "Oath of Love", Xiao Zhan filmed during the day and recorded the variety show "Our Song" at night. Both were very challenging. The former was his first time to play the leading role in an urban drama, with little experience and great pressure; the latter was difficult because of the harmony, "You have to memorize all the harmonies that are different from the tune of the song and not be carried away."

"At that time, I felt it didn't matter. I would sleep for an hour or two and wake up feeling healthy again. But now my mind says it doesn't matter, but my body is protesting."

This year, he was filming in Hengdian. Later, one day, he found that his tonsils were inflamed and swallowing was very painful, but he went to work as usual. It was not until the director came over and asked him, "What's wrong with your eyes?" that he saw his eyes swollen in the mirror. By the afternoon, "I looked like a frog."

He had to go to the hospital. The symptoms themselves were common and could be stopped by taking medicine. But what he couldn't do was exactly what the doctor advised most: you need to rest.

More importantly, "My perception will become dull. I am really afraid of this, afraid of becoming mechanical and formulaic." He put the emphasis on the word "really". He chatted with his seniors, "They also said that you have to live and experience life."

In fact, a life in the spotlight is somewhat contrary to the life of ordinary people, but the profession of an actor requires him to touch as many wrinkles of life as possible.

A while ago, he watched a monologue in a variety show that depicted the current workplace situation of young people. Before entering the entertainment industry, Xiao Zhan had a studio and worked. He could understand the depression brought by work, but the new vocabulary and new tools that appeared in the workplace weakened his sense of resonance. He found that he was gradually disconnected to a certain extent.

02.

In early June, Xiao Zhan had a short vacation and went back to his hometown Chongqing. He likes to take walks very much, and one night he walked for several hours, visiting the old street, Jiefangbei, and the place where he used to work.

In 2014, 23-year-old Xiao Zhan graduated from university and worked as a designer in a design studio. Every weekday morning, he would transfer from Line 2 to Line 3 at Niujiaotuo Station, push through the crowds, and squeeze onto the light rail. Several times, he was pressed so hard that his face was pressed against the glass window.

He simply leaned against the glass to look at the Jialing River below, the strange reefs exposed in the dry season and the various people, some swimming in winter, some jogging, some fishing, with a very optimistic spirit.

He still likes to observe the people around him——

"Why are you still here so late?"

"People walking hurriedly must have just got off work and are in a hurry to go home. Their expressions and behaviors are just like when I used to catch the subway. It's the last one and you have to run. They are very panicked. Some takeaway guys are rushing forward regardless of their own safety. There are also some very leisurely people who sit there drinking beer, and then go home and start a new day."

"Everyone has their own wonderful story. It is everyone's life that makes up our society. So it's wonderful. Everyone is the protagonist. We are all filming our own biographies. What will the story of tomorrow be like?"

At that moment, he was like all those who have been busy working in a foreign country for a long time, and finally found that "I haven't been here for a long time, and there have been quite a lot of changes." "In fact, I am not particularly happy, and I don't have any other feelings. I am living, that's all."

Two and a half days later, Xiao Zhan left Chongqing for work and returned to Beijing, then to Shanghai, and then to France. This time he also called his parents. This was a long-awaited family trip, from France to Switzerland and back to France in a week. Every detail of the trip was magnified, their happiness, quarrels, or just ordinary walks, "all very vivid."

On the day they parted, they finished their meal at a restaurant in the south of France. The car that came to pick him up arrived and he had to leave first. Before leaving, his mother hugged him and told him to take care of himself. Rarely, his father also hugged him awkwardly.

"I used to think that work was everything and life wasn't that important. It was nothing more than having a place to sleep, getting up, going to work, finishing work, and resting. But now that my parents are older and I haven't lived with them for a long time, you feel as if each other's lives, even family members, are getting further and further apart." He especially doesn't want this to happen.

The way to avoid suspension and regain a sense of reality in life is not difficult to say. "When you have time, go out and take a look. The important thing is to feel life and the world. Even if it is something terrible or cruel, it is life, and it will burst out with energy when you need it."

03.

Halfway through the interview, Xiao Zhan suddenly said that he had a conflicting attitude towards long interviews. On the one hand, he was worried that he was not growing enough and would appear timid during the conversation. On the other hand, he wanted to unearth some subtle feelings through the conversation because he felt he was not good at recording them in words.

Observation, feeling, understanding and expression are the key to an actor's creativity.

"Dialogue is also muscle memory." Xiao Zhan said, "Although I am very i, I am not autistic. Because I think actors need to learn to express, express your inner thoughts, and digest the content handed to you by the other party."

Before the filming of "Sunshine by my Side" began, he met with the main creators and held several script meetings to deepen their understanding of each other and the characters. In the early stage of "Legend of the Hidden Sea", the producer also mentioned that he would discuss the script in detail and talk about a scene with many of his own understandings.

Xiao Zhan is not a professional actor. When he first entered the industry and filmed "Fights Break Sphere" and "The Wolf", he had strong doubts and asked himself, am I suitable for this? Constantly denying and overthrowing himself made him lose confidence.

Sometimes he is asked what he would be doing now if he had not participated in the talent show, debuted, or entered the entertainment industry at the age of 23. He has thought about it, but he has not looked back.

If you can't act well, then spend extra time taking acting classes, watching the monitor more often, and asking seniors for advice. With your full strength and hard work, you will slowly find the way.

Later, when the filming of "Sunshine by my Side" started, Xiao Zhan played Xiao Chunsheng, a child of a Beijing compound, who was completely different from him, even his accent was very different. He felt insecure. Before filming many scenes, director Fu Ning ran over and whispered to him, Zhan Zhan, don't be afraid, just speak bravely, if you feel it, just say it, in fact, the audience can feel your emotions and what you want to express.

He also gradually gained more self-awareness: "Technique may not be my forte, it depends more on feelings. Only when I have my own feelings can I have the confidence to interpret it. If I rely purely on some techniques, I think it is not moving enough."

It has been 8 years since Xiao Zhan made his acting debut. Looking at his resume, he has played leading roles in various TV series and movies. But he still feels that he is a newcomer and hopes to work with more experienced production teams in the future.

He doesn't think too much, and he doesn't actually know the work plan divided by year very well. He only cares about what the work arrangements for the next stage are, rather than "asking about things too far ahead."

"I still feel like a child, but actually I'm not anymore. It seems like I'm still in high school, but actually I've grown up." A child's mind means having curiosity, desire to explore, and imagination.

He puts these curiosities and explorations into the characters. "I mean, for me, when I dig into the character's background and past, I discover the complexity and contradictions of the character as a person and present them. In this way, some of his choices and motivations may be understood by the audience, and the work may be good, and you will have the current audience, right?"

source

[littleadaline]

Rest Up [F.L16] 

Warnings: romantic AS FUCK [i hope so]

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: i wrote this at 2 AM, it’s absolutely unpolished, may even be ass, but when there’s inspiration… can’t ignore it!

——————————————————

Having the week off from university was like a dream for you. All these saved TikTok recipes were finally seeing the light of day, your apartment smelling like a bakery the whole day. The only person who was not benefiting from your baking frenzy was your boyfriend, Fermín. He liked to claim you were teasing him, taunting him with your sweets, since he couldn’t eat as many as he wanted due to his diet. Every recipe tried earned you an eye roll from him. 

“Again?” He would say, half annoyed. 

But there was no end in sight for your baking frenzy. 

The sound of keys pulled you away from your trance, the door opening wide and the voice of your boyfriend barely making it out of his throat. 

“Hey.” He mumbled under his breath. His bag lazily slid from his shoulder, his figure slumped like rag doll as he attempted to untie his shoes. 

“Hi my love,” you said, greeting his with a kiss on the cheek. “How was training?” You asked him while putting away his shoes in the closet. 

“ ‘Twas fine. Is dinner ready?” 

“Should be ready in 10 minutes…why? Fermín, don’t tell me you want to sleep now.” You asked him with a hint of annoyance in your voice. He was known for pulling this stunt and it was one thing of his you couldn’t stand. 

“Please… just 30 minutes. I’m absolutely exhausted.” He yawned through his sentence. 

Your heart softened at his sight. You sighed and kissed his forehead before moving out of his way, giving him the chance to slip to the bedroom. Soon enough, the absence of noise fell onto the apartment, the air growing thick. Feeling bad for your previous reaction, you pulled out the massage oil, lavender oil and bath bombs. You were going to help your boyfriend relax in the best way you knew, self-care. Soon enough, 30 minutes passed, and true to his word, Fermín emerged from the bedroom with a bit more colour to his face.  Checking the bath water temperature, you signalled him to join you in the room. 

“What is this?” He asked, gesturing to the pile of items on the bathroom floor. 

“Vanilla or raspberry?” 

“What?” His face contorted with confusion.

“Vanilla or raspberry bath bomb?” You asked him again, holding each in your hands. 

“Vanilla.” He sighed, defeated. He knew exactly what you were doing. You were taking care of him in the same way he took care of you. He knew what was next; a hair massage. Stripping down from his clothes, he sat down in the bathtub, happily sighing as the hot water made contact with his skin. He hated to admit it, but it was exactly what he needed. Pulling the stool next to you, you poured some hair oil onto your palms, warming it up slightly, before reaching for Fermín’s hair. As you worked on his scalp, you could feel him turn into putty in your hands. 

“What about dinner?” He asked. 

“It just needs to be heated up.” You answered him. 

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to delay dinner. I was just so exhausted, with uni, traveling with the first team, training-”

“All is good mi amor” You interrupted him. “I’ll delay dinner on the days you have afternoon training. That way you can nap and shower in peace before eating,” You said, leaving a kiss on his forehead and getting up to wash your hands. “I’ll go heat it up. Do you think you’ll be done in 15 minutes?” 

“Yeah my love, give me 10 minutes.” He said, squeezing your hand. 

You exited the bathroom and made your way to the kitchen where the pot of soup was waiting for you. Letting the soup simmer on medium heat, you put together the side salad, before pulling out the chicken from the oven. Fibre, protein… what am I missing…. Carbs! Shit! You thought to yourself before pulling the potatoes out of the oven… 

The bathroom door opened, and a now clean and refreshed Fermín came out, the steam slowly escaping from the bathroom. He was dressed in a matching Nike set, clean socks and his slippers. He made his way to you, his arms finding your hips. His head was resting on your shoulder, his gaze following your hands as you plated the food. Soon enough, the food was ready to eat, with Fermín salivating at the sight in front of him. 

“C’mon.” You invited him to join you on the giant couch. Fermín crawled on the couch, his head finding your shoulder once again. You both ate in silence, the sound of Barcelona entertaining you. After you were done eating, he took the dishes away before washing and drying them. Coming back onto the couch, you threw your legs over his thighs, your hands settling in his hair. Fermín had never admitted to it, but you knew how much having you play with his hair soothed him. Feeling the missed hours of sleep catching up to you, you yawned, a bit louder than you wanted. Before you could say anything, Fermín scooped you up and brought you to the bedroom, your giggle filling the room. He tucked you in before sliding in his side of the bed. 

“I know you’re on break nena, but you’re tired. Let’s sleep early so we can make the most of our day off tomorrow. I was thinking of a picnic at the park, followed by a movie night. God knows we haven’t done this in a hot minute. What do you say?” He blurted out. 

You pulled him in for a kiss, your hand snaking into his hair, pulling him closer. 

“I’d love to do that with you.” You said, before laying your head down on his chest. Whilst Fermín’s weak spot was you playing with his hair, yours was listening to his heartbeat before falling asleep. And he knew, which is why he never went to sleep before you, no matter how early he had to wake up the next morning or how tired he was. 

“I love you, Y/N. I really do. Everything you do for me, despite my schedule. I love taking you out on dates, I love talking about you to the boys, I love how you’re always in awe when you see pigeons in the streets, I love how your eyes light up when I come home with sushi. I love everything about you, amor. And I promise, not just to myself, but to you as well, I will make you my wife one day,” He rambled on. “Oh… you’re asleep.” An expression of relief sprawled on his face. Your eyes were closed, but you had heard everything. Unable to hide your smirk, you hid your face in his shoulder, your breath eventually slowing down. Soon enough, Fermín followed suit, but not before he left a trail of kisses from your cheek to your forehead. 

[joshsindigostreak]

Blue Christmas 💙🎄

Authors notes: Hi y’all!! This spawned from a dream I had the other morning and I couldn’t get it out of my head. My first official Rom-Com, and friends to lovers! Shout out to @gretasmokerising and @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine to hearing me out with this idea and yelling at me to write it! Enjoy!

Word Count: 6813

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, and SMUT at the end! MINORS DNI, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap y’all’s willies), alcohol use, agonizing mutual pining? I think that’s it.

It had been 4 weeks, 2 days, and 7 hours since Josh Kiszka had last spoken to you. The most he had ignored you since the day you met over 2 years ago. His cubicle was stationed next to yours, and you could always look to your right to see him typing away at his computer, eyes trained at the screen and never once glancing over at you. He would arrive in the mornings silently, and clock out at 5 without a word. But it was the lunch hours that hurt the most. Ever since you had started this job, he was always your lunch buddy. He showed you where all the good vending machines were, and how to get down to the courtyard on the bottom floor where most of the office population ate their lunches. You hadn’t seen him down in that courtyard since…the incident…and you sat at your usual table most days hoping you’d see him come through the double doors, lunch in hand and a smile on his face. But in the weeks since, he had either eaten elsewhere or stayed in his cubicle working. A few times you tried to stay behind as well, hoping the silence from being the ones in your general vicinity on your floor would coax him into conversation, but it didn’t work. 

But what was this “incident”? What was the catalyst to make him so cold to you all of a sudden? As you twirled your mouse over your screen pretending to be busy, your thoughts drifted back to the day everything changed. 

Josh had a usual lunch table. It was in the courtyard, but in the back corner where he could have the best privacy. This back section used to be the smoking section before smoking was banned per company policy, but they left all of the plants and hedges in place that separated it from the rest of the courtyard. His lunch hour was sacred. It was the part of his day that he could be by himself and not have to talk to anyone if he didn’t want to. Not a lot of people sat back there, which was another blessing. But he didn’t mind sharing it with you. He jumped at the chance to show it to you on your first day. You made a comment about how it was very “Rainforest Cafe” that endeared you to him even more. Ever since, it has been the two of you back there, hidden amongst the hedges. 

That day wasn’t much different from any other, a run-of-the-mill Tuesday in the middle of November. For that time of the year, it was unusually warm, so you felt that it was imperative to take advantage of it and sit outside when you still could. You made your way down to your table, walking past various coworkers chattering away. You could smell the Caesar salad through the container in your hand and you couldn’t wait to dive into it. Finally you made it to your table in the back corner, with your lunch buddy sitting with his back to you as he typed away at his laptop. He was a true workaholic, but his efforts never went unnoticed. Your immediate boss, Ted, always gave shout outs to Josh in meetings, and you would be lying if you said the way Josh’s face would tinge pink every time didn’t melt your heart. He was absolutely terrible at taking compliments. He was deserving of all the praise, hell he deserved a promotion at this point with how much he led the team, but he would get so bashful whenever someone would tell him so.  Sometimes…you would compliment him on purpose just to see the color rise in his cheeks, and if you were lucky, a glimpse of the dimple on his left side.

You slid onto the bench that was bolted to the table, a fixture that hadn’t been updated since the nineties, you were sure. Normally you sat across from him, but today you just had the itch to be in his personal space. 

“Whatcha working on?” You asked as you popped open the container for your salad.

“I am working on…a PowerPoint…,” he quipped, giving you a playful sideways glance. 

You nodded, letting him type and fill up the current slide as you dumped your salad dressing into the container and mixed it with the greens and grilled chicken. After a few minutes of silence, you leaned over to him, brushing your shoulder against his, “you need a cool transition. No PowerPoint is complete without a cool transition.” 

At this he stopped typing and turned his face towards yours, seemingly unbothered with how close you were to him, “I can just see the look on Ted’s face when he hears the ‘whoosh’ between slides about projected first quarter profit margins.”

 

“That man needs a good laugh. Or to get laid. Maybe both,” you nudged his shoulder before going back to your lunch. 

“Don’t we all…,” Josh mumbled to himself. You almost asked him what he meant but he was quickly back at it, filling out bullet points and inserting graphs on the side. It wasn’t unusual to see him this engrossed in his work, but frankly, you were bored. This was the one hour you could truly hang out with him and not have to talk shop. Your friend needed to relax, and not let his work become his life. He always told you that the more he got done during the day meant the less he had to do when he got home, but you knew that was a lie. He always came in the next day with more work than when he left, and sometimes you wondered if that laptop bag of his was surgically attached to his shoulder. 

Your salad was long gone and Josh was still typing away, clicking back and forth from his data and his project. Knowing what would get his attention, you innocently poked at his side, and held back a laugh when he flinched and smiled. This spurred you on, and you poked his arm now, forcing him to make a typo. He was trying so hard to not give in, to not give you the satisfaction that he was amused, but he was failing. 

You upped your ante by reaching for his ear. Gently, you ran your fingertip down the shell of his ear, feeling every curve and contour before brushing the skin next to his earlobe. This caused Josh to visibly shudder, and he tried to cover it up by suddenly jerking his head to the side to pretend to bite your finger. You erupted in giggles before you were aware of how close his face was to your hand. Before you could stop yourself, you extended your fingers to lightly cup his jaw. Instead of backing away, he leaned into your touch, a move that neither of you were expecting. His fingers stilled on the keyboard, and slowly backed away and into his lap he turned his body to face yours. 

The logical side of you wanted to just laugh and lean back onto your end of the bench as if nothing happened, but the other side of you, the side that needed him, was telling that first side to shut the fuck up. Letting the intrusive thoughts win, you leaned closer to him, and you hitched a breath when you saw him do the same. There was no space between the two of you, your right thigh was firmly against his left, heat radiating through both of your respective slacks. 

Before either of you could think about it too much, Josh closed the gap between you and slotted his lips onto yours, lazily taking your bottom lip into his mouth. The action caused you to moan against him, and you seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss. The professional side of you was screeching in your head that you were literally at work and in a courtyard full of people, but the rest of you argued back that no one could see you given how tall the hedges were. 

One of Josh’s hands slid up to your face, mirroring what you were doing to him, and his other hand snaked around your waist, desperate to have you closer. Your tongue slipped into his mouth, and he opened up for you instantly. For several moments, you made out like teenagers on that bench. 

You weren’t close enough to him, and before you could protest he lifted you up and over his lap, allowing you to straddle him. He was thanking God that the greenery was so overgrown that you couldn’t be seen in the position you were in. 

As you settled down onto his lap, the rigid outline of his cock pressed up against you, and you instinctively grinded down on him. He bit your bottom lip to keep himself from moaning too loud, but it was futile as that only caused you to let out a breathy moan of your own.

He was kissing you like he was starving, and you couldn’t get over just how good he felt. You always stole glances at his lips, noting how perfect his cupid's bow was and they were the most enviable shade of pink. 

But just as you lowered yourself back down to grind on him even more, a very loud and obnoxious cackle was let out across the courtyard. Of course it was Vera’s obnoxious ass laughing at whatever the fuck. This caused Josh to break away from you, sobering him up to the situation. He was suddenly very aware of you straddling him, with bruised lips and tousled hair. He couldn’t…he couldn’t be here much longer or else he wouldn’t be able to stop. Without any preamble he guided you off his lap and slid out the other side of the bench and adjusted his belt buckle and smoothed down his shirt. He didn’t even glance at you when he shut his laptop and turned to leave, quickly mumbling about needing to run to the bank before his lunch hour was up. It was a clear lie, but he didn’t give you a chance to call him out on it before nearly running out of that courtyard, leaving you dazed and…very wet…on that bench. 

You leaned back in your office chair and rolled your eyes at the memory, not because you didn’t love it, or that it didn’t replay in your head every time you saw the man, but because you were afraid it completely fucked up your friendship with Josh. Before you on your screen was a reminder email about the company Christmas Party that was being held this weekend. You wanted to go, but the thought of mingling with coworkers while Josh continued to ignore you made you want to crawl under your desk and never come out. Because of his outstanding job performance, he was put on the planning committee and thus would have to be there. There was no avoiding him. 

With a resigned sigh you glanced over at his desk, hoping to see him, but finding it Josh-less. Instead you heard his voice chattering away at another desk, leaning against the entrance to a nearby cubicle. To everyone else, he was his normal talkative self, but for you, he was silent and cold. What the actual fuck was his problem? The more you thought about it, the more it pissed you off. Just who does he think he is by kissing you like that, touching you like that, fulfilling the fantasies you’ve had in your head for months, only to throw you away essentially and leave you high but not very dry? Fuck him, but not in the literal sense. He didn’t deserve that. A plan was forming in your head. You were going to show up to that party pushing every button you knew how to push with him. After working for him for nearly two years, you knew what made that man tick. You had picked up on several preferences of his via passing comments, jokes, or flat out remarks. 

And you were going to exploit every single one of them. 

When the day of the party arrived, you looked over at your outfit laid out on your bed. A beautiful long sleeved navy blue velvet dress. Why blue? Well that color had become an inside joke between the two of you, stemming from an exchange on your very first day in the office. 

You were settling into your new cubicle, arranging your things and figuring out just where you wanted everything to go. The size of your desk surprised you, as you were expecting a smaller space given you were a new hire, but the expanse of the desk gave you so much more room to work with. It was a blessing as you tended to spread out your paperwork around you throughout your day, a habit that your old boss noted every time she walked by your desk. 

As you reached into your box full of things you brought from home, your hand settled on the third Funko Pop you had picked out of your collection. Your Funko of Daphne from Scooby Doo had been one of the first you had bought when you started your collection, and she meant a lot to you. 

“You take them out of the box?” An unfamiliar yet pleasant voice interrupted your thoughts and you nearly dropped the box you were holding from being startled. 

Snapping your head up at the source, you were greeted by a rather…gorgeous man with curious big brown eyes. You had briefly seen him when your new boss was giving you a tour of the area you would be working in, and he had been getting something out of the supply closet. 

“Sorry?”

“Your Funkos…you take them out of the box?” 

Realizing what he was referring to, you chuckled slightly in embarrassment, “oh don’t start, my brother already gives me enough shit about ‘ruining their value’ whenever he comes over and sees my collection. They just look so sad sitting in them. They need to be free!”

This caused the stranger to smile as he extended his hand for you to shake, “I’m Josh, your new neighbor across the way.” He dramatically threw a glance over his shoulder at his own cubicle across from yours. You gladly shook his hand and told him your own name, which he repeated softly. 

You continued to pull more items out of your box as he stood there, not minding you had company. In the panic to get what you needed for your new job, you had inadvertently brought mostly blue office supplies. Blue post-its, blue binders, blue pens; it was as if your brain found one color it liked in the store and made you match everything to calm your nerves. 

“Your sweater matches your binders…,” Josh observed. 

This was your second time you looked up at him in embarrassment, “Oh! Yeah…purely unintentional. It’s my nicest one and I wanted to make a good-”

“It looks nice on you, that shade of blue,” he interrupted. 

Before you could stop yourself, you started rattling off a quote from one of your favorite films, “Oh this sweater is not just blue, it's not turquoise, it's not lapis, it's-"

"...actually cerulean?" 

The smile that spread across your face could light up the entire room, it wasn’t a niche reference, but you were so glad he picked up on it and you didn’t embarrass yourself a third time. After that, your friendship with Josh quickly blossomed, and the ‘blue’ joke got to a point where Josh was calling you Blue to your face, a nickname that stuck no matter how many times you told him to stop. 

Six months into your stay at your current job, you walked into work thinking nothing of the date, but when you got to your desk you saw a familiar small white box with a blue bow taped to the top. You dropped your bag onto your desk and picked it up. Turning it over in your hands you saw that it was a Miranda Priestly Funko, and while you instantly understood who gave it to you, you were confused at the occasion. 

“Happy Six Months, Blue,” Josh said warmly behind you, startling you. 

“Six months?”

“Since you started here! I saw it online and you’ve worked really hard these last six months so I just thought…you needed a token of appreciation.” He leaned towards you and whispered, “since you and I both know corporate doesn’t keep up with such things.” 

You smiled up at him, warmed by the gesture, “thanks Josh…” 

After a few seconds of awkwardly standing there, Josh piped up, “go on…free her from her plastic prison. She’s running out of air and it's getting dark! I’m frightened for her.” Giggles escaped your mouth as you ripped open the box and freed your new Funko. She was put next to your Daphne, as they both held strong sentimental value now. 

You shook your head from the memories, needing to focus on the task at hand. Slipping on the dress and securing your heels, you gave yourself one last look in the mirror before you left for the party. Your hair was perfect, your eyelids dusted with a champagne-colored shimmer, and your lips were adorned with a neutral matte red. There was no way he could ignore you with the way you looked. 

Or so you thought. 

After nearly an hour of mingling, your “friend” had yet to even walk passed you. In fact it was pretty obvious he was avoiding you. He was only on the stupid decorating committee but you’d think he was the host of the entire party with the way he was flitting about the employees, giving them warm greetings and thanking them for coming. You didn’t want to follow him around like a lost puppy, but you kept deliberately putting yourself in his line of vision and he acted like you weren’t there. What the fuck? 

At this point, you were standing with a bunch of your coworkers on your floor, trying to not make it obvious you were glaring at Josh while slowly sipping your cocktail. By the grace of God, one of the men from your floor walked over with Josh in tow, firmly planting him in the little group that had gathered. He still avoided your gaze, keeping his eyes on Brad who clapped him on the shoulder and praised him for a project he had recently finished and was going to present next week. 

Your friend Stacy waved her hand at them, “oh come on no work talk tonight, we get enough of that during the day.” 

“I know, I know but Josh ran his ideas by me the other week and was telling me how it all came together at the end, I’m happy for him,” Brad defended. 

What? Josh never ran ideas with anyone else but you. You were always his first choice whenever he had something cooking in his head. Hell, you didn’t even know he had a big project lined up. But there he was, cheeks flushing at the praise. Under any other circumstances, your heart would stutter at the sight, adoring how bashful he could be, but right now? Right now it pissed you off, and you were on your second cocktail of the night. Your filter was nonexistent. 

“You told Brad about your new project?” You blurted out, slightly slurring your speech. 

At last, Josh finally addressed you, “yes? I wanted to run some numbers by him just to double che-”

“But you always run your ideas by me?” Unfortunately, the alcohol also made it impossible for you to hide the hurt in your voice. “You always ask to pick my brain on things.”

You took a step forward, “yes you do, and I always run my ideas by you in return. They always note how well we work together in meetings.” The rest of your coworkers stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do as you verbally sparred. You didn’t care, you stared at Josh barely blinking. His jaw was clenched, lips set in a line. But you couldn’t stop the words tumbling from your mouth, “you don’t even like Brad! You told me his projections were always off and he talks too much during meetings which is rich coming from-”

At this, Josh handed his drink off to the closest person and quickly grabbed your hand to pull you away from the group. He guided you through the crowd, and you dropped off your empty glass on a random table, not caring where it was. The only thing you could focus on was the warmth from his hand, and how he effortlessly laced your fingers together as he walked. This was the first time he had even touched you since that lunchtime makeout session. 

He swung the outside door open, leading you out onto the side deck of the venue. No one else was out here due to the cold, and the cold wind sobered you up a little. You stood next to the deck rail, glaring at him. 

“What the fuck, Josh?!” 

“What the fuck Josh? How about what the fuck, Blue?!” He’s giving you the hardest look he’s ever given you, his eyes a darker shade of brown you weren’t used to seeing, and no cheek dimple in sight. He continued, “I am preventing you from getting fired for running your mouth in front of everyone.” 

You sneer, “since when do you care what my mouth does?” 

He clenches his jaw again, and he swallows hard enough to see his Adam's apple bob beneath the gorgeous white turtleneck he was wearing. “You know what, I think you need to just stay out here for the rest of the night, and lay off the eggnog.” 

He started to walk off but you grabbed his arm before he could leave, “no, you don’t get to do this again. You have ignored me for nearly a month now.” You lowered your voice even though it was only the two of you outside, “we never even talked…about it…was I that bad?”

He spins to face you, and backs you up against the deck rail, placing both hands on either side of you, bracketing yourself between his arms. He stares at you for a few more seconds, before declaring in a gruff voice, “you were absolutely incredible, and that's the problem.” Your brows furrowed in confusion, and he continued, “I have done nothing but think of you since that day, hell I thought about you every single day before that. Ever since you walked into that office, in that fucking blue sweater, your perfectly coordinated desk supplies, your intelligence, the way you always have a comeback for everything…Blue, I could not get you out of my head even if I tried. But that day? When I finally got to taste you? Have you in my arms? It ruined me. Ruined me for everyone else. The mere thought of even talking to you afterwards sent all my blood south and I can’t walk around the office with a fucking boner, can I?”  You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off again, “and you show up here tonight, looking like this, knowing how much I love you in blue…you wicked little thing.” 

Just then, the door to the outside was swung open by someone that worked on a different floor, and you guessed they got the hint because they quickly went back inside. But as the door closed behind them, the two of you could hear Blue Christmas by Elvis being played loudly through the speakers inside. How appropriate. 

All of your worst case scenarios that had haunted your mind the last few weeks weren’t even true at all. Josh’s words had your heart hammering in your chest, and having him this close to you after a month-long cut off had you aching. His breath was hot as it fanned over your face, the rich chocolate of his irises that matched his brown suit were smoldering before you. Reaching up, you gently cupped his jaw the same way you did weeks ago on that bench, and just like before he leaned into your hand his eyes fluttered shut. 

“Blue…,” he whispered against your palm. 

“I missed you so fucking much. I don’t think you understand how empty I felt without you talking to me every day. Not hearing your daily complaints, not making me laugh, no eye contact during meetings when they got boring? I sat downstairs every single day, at our usual table, hoping to see you, but you never showed. I felt like I did something horribly wrong and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me otherwise,” he shook his head against your hand,  “You just shut me out with no explanation.”

“No..no I’m sorry for that…it was stupid, and cruel of me. I just didn’t know what to do. Every time I tried to talk myself into talking to you, it resulted in me thinking of scenarios that would’ve had us end up with multiple HR violations, and I just couldn’t do it.” He rested his forehead against yours, keeping his eyes closed. 

“Well, Kiszka, what are you going to do about it now?”

A low growl rumbled in his chest and he finally opened his eyes to look over your shoulder at the sprawling grounds of the country club. 

“What if I told you, that when we were looking for venues, I noticed that this particular one has an entire property just for a garden, that's currently out of season, and that there’s a greenhouse off to the side that they keep some of the plants indoors over the winter?” 

You were tempted to look over your shoulder to see what he was looking at, but you didn’t want your eyes to leave his face.

“Are you suggesting…?”

“I’m saying that I need to finish what I started four weeks ago.” 

Before you could respond he took your hand and led you down the steps of the deck and out onto the frost-covered lawn. The entrance to the garden wasn’t very far, but it was nestled in a brick fence. Once inside and out of sight, you got a glimpse at your surroundings. The garden was definitely winterized and dormant, but the hedges were evergreen and tall, successfully blocking anyone who might peer over to that side of the property from the main building. His fingers were still laced with yours as he took a sharp left and down a narrow path. As you traveled deeper into the garden, the party noise slowly fizzled out, and by the time you got to the greenhouse in question, you could barely hear anything other than the wind rustling branches. 

“It’s probably locked…,” you suggested, trying not to sound disappointed.

Josh briefly panicked, not quite thinking about that when he came up with this plan, but he quickly reached up to feel the top of the door frame. When his fingertips landed on cold metal, he nearly said a prayer out loud in gratitude. He held the key up to you, before spinning back around and trying it in the lock. As fate would have it, the lock clicked and the handle turned easily, granting you access. 

Inside, there were a few space heaters already running to keep the chilly night air outside. The temperature difference as you stepped inside was stark, and you shut the door behind you to keep any more winter air from coming in. One of the tables in the middle of the room had been cleaned off recently, with no pots or excess dirt littering the surface. When he was satisfied in his choice for this tryst, he turned around to face you again and backed you up into the door, colliding his lips to yours in a searing kiss. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling him even closer. His hands flexed and kneaded your hips through the velvet fabric of your dress; his fingertips slowly bunching the material higher and higher until they met the skin underneath. He ran his hands along your skin, stopping abruptly when he felt the lacy material of your thong. He mapped out the lace blindly, tracing the woven pattern while pulling away from your lips to pant harshly against your face. 

“You were really walking around that party wearing these?”

“...you should see my bra…”

The only light in the greenhouse was from the waxing gibbous moon in the sky, streaming its moonbeams through the glass windows. But even with the limited light, you could see Josh’s eyes darken even more at your words. He couldn’t take it anymore, and reached down to firmly grip the back of your thighs and lifted you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist and he backed up and carefully set you back down on the cleared off table. His lips moved to your neck now, sucking bruises onto your skin, not giving a shit about the marks he left behind. You were his, goddamnit. Now that you were on the surface of the table, he reached back under your dress to tug your thong down your legs. He backed up just enough to slip it off your ankles and past your heels, but he didn’t let it fall to the floor, he looped it around his fingers to hold in front of his face to get a better look at it in the moonlight. It was fucking…blue. You wore dark blue lingerie tonight? Your mission to torture him was succeeding, and another growl grumbled in his chest. Your words from earlier echoed in his head, and after shoving your thong in his pocket, he quickly started tugging your dress off of you. Lifting your dress over your head, his eyes raked down your body. The height of the table gave him a perfect, eye level view of your breasts. The lace that perfectly cupped your flesh matched the thong in his pocket, and he had to lean against his hands on the edge of the table to compose himself. The wood dug into his skin a thought occurred to him, and he immediately ripped his jacket off and swung it around, laying it down behind you, so you wouldn’t have to feel the cold table against your skin. He looked up at you, silently asking permission and when you nodded his hands landed on your breasts, squeezing them through the lace. 

Josh stood before you, wearing absolutely too much in his white turtleneck and slacks. It was incredibly unfair, and you needed to fix that. In your tangle of limbs you clawed at the back of his shirt to pull it off of him. He got the hint and flung it over his head, letting it land on top of your dress beside you. Now it was your turn to gawk at him. This was the most you had ever seen of Josh at this point, and the sight of his perfectly unmarred skin in the moonlight had you drooling. Your hands itched to squeeze his shoulders and dig your nails into his skin. In a flurry, your bra quickly came off, nipples hardening in the chilly air. His mouth immediately closed around one of them, causing you to throw your head back and a reedy sigh escaped your lips. 

As much as you loved the attention he was giving you, you needed more. You needed him. Now. 

“Josh…please…,” you whined. 

He nodded and moaned against your chest, before popping off and returning to your mouth. As his lips devoured yours he reached down to undo his belt and slacks, the metal clanking against the side of the table. He pushed his pants down to his knees and brought one hand to his cock, squeezing it and giving himself a few pumps. You pulled away from his mouth just enough to look down at it, and a shiver of anticipation ran through you. Reaching down, you pushed his hand away and wrapped your fingers around him. 

“Fuck, baby…” rattled out of his mouth. Spurred on, you started to pump him yourself, let your thumb catch the drop of precum resting at the tip, smearing it around the head. His hand shook as he closed it around yours, stopping your movements. “Keep doing that and this will be over embarrassingly fast.” You giggled and moved your arms to rest on his shoulders, giving him a minute to compose himself. 

Finally, he stepped forward, closing the gap between you. He took his cock in his hand once again, dragging it up and down through your slit. You were so fucking wet. He looked at you again, silently asking-

“Josh you don’t do something I’m going to be the one leaving this time and never forgiving you.” 

With that he surged forward, filling you in one fluid motion, causing the both of you to moan into each other's mouths. Your hearts hammering in your chests. He didn’t waste no time before he reared back and filled you again, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he bottomed out. As much as he wanted to, there wasn’t time to take this slow, and frankly after the last month there was too much tension built up between you to even fathom another pace. He leaned you back down onto his jacket, the satin lining felt cool and soft against your skin, and he hovered over you as best he could given the height of the table. 

Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist, locking your ankles right above his ass. As you promised yourself earlier, your nails dug into the soft flesh of his shoulders, and he hissed in your ear in response. Slowly you dragged your fingertips down his back as he pumped into you, the angle making his pelvis grind against your clit exactly the way you needed it. 

It was becoming apparent that the table wasn’t built for strenuous activities, and it started to creek and shift underneath you. Josh didn’t pay it any mind, he was too focused on peppering kisses all along your face and neck, not wanting to leave your skin for a second. He couldn’t get enough of you, and the fact that he was finally having you, was sinking in. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but that first time he saw you while you took your tour around the office while he was at the supply closet? It had to be as close as one could get. He nearly dropped an entire stack of printer paper when you walked by and your perfume invaded his senses, causing him to look up to see where it was coming from. The sheer luck that you got assigned to the cubicle next to his, and how he pretended to be busy while you started sorting your things. He observed you for several minutes before making his presence known, in the least creepy way possible. You were just…adorable…in how you were organizing your desk, and how you muttered to yourself as you picked things out of the box.

 The crush he developed that day was strong from the beginning, and now? Now he had you completely. His skin was slapping against yours. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, tugging at the roots. Your thighs were squeezing his hips as he hiked one of them higher on his side, allowing him to bury himself deeper inside you. 

“You’re so fucking perfect…god, Blue…fuck…,” he rambled against your mouth, unable to hold back his words. 

You whimpered up at him, “you feel so good.”

“Yeah? Who's making you feel this good?” He lifted his head just enough to look you in the eyes. 

“...you…”

Not satisfied with your answer, he reared back and slammed back into you, harder than before, “no, who is making you feel this good?”

Oh, you knew what he wanted, but you weren’t going to give it to him this easily. Instead you just stroked his cheeks with your thumbs, smiling up at him. 

You wanted to be a brat, he thought, two could play at that game. He instantly pulled out of you, fighting every instinct in his body to stay inside. You whimpered at the sudden loss, your brows furrowing. 

“I’m going to ask you again…” 

For a split second you hated him. You had been so fucking close, and he literally ripped it away from you. Too desperate to keep playing you nearly shouted, “JOSH, you, Josh…you’re making me feel this good…” 

A smirk appeared on his face before he slammed back into you, “mmm…good girl.” 

This side of Josh was surprising you, but you loved it. You had never really taken him for a dominating type, but you couldn’t wait to see more of it in the future. But before you could think about that, your high came hurtling back to you. He reached between you, going straight for your clit and started swirling his fingers around it. You were so wet that his fingertips glided easily in figure-8 motions against the hard nub, causing you to writhe beneath him. His name tumbled from your lips repeatedly as you felt yourself climbing higher and higher. The combination of his fingers and the ridges of his cock dragging against your walls was too much, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. With a shout, you shook underneath him as you came. He continued to pump into you, chasing his own high and prolonging yours with his nimble fingers. You were squeezing him so hard as you rode out your high, and he only had about three thrusts left in him before he emptied himself inside you. His vision nearly went white as he came, and your actual first name shuddered from his mouth. 

Neither of you moved for several moments, but the feeling of his release slowly leaking out and around his cock was undeniable. You started to panic at how you were going to clean up, until Josh reached next to your shoulder where the inside pocket of his jacket was. Silently he fished out a white handkerchief. You caught a glimpse of the initials, JMK, stitched in gold thread in the corner before it disappeared between you two and he pulled out, making quick work to clean you up. When he was satisfied, he stood up fully to pull his slacks back up around his waist, and reached over for your bra, handing it back to you. You slowly sat up, your muscles still feeling like jelly. The two of you were quiet as you redressed yourselves, and you remembered he had your thong in his pocket. 

Holding your hand out, you asked, “can I have them back now?” 

Josh smirked again as he put his jacket back on, “no…I’m keeping those.” 

Your eyes widened as you stared at him, “Josh!” 

He took your hand and started to lead you to the door, “you can have them back when we get to my place…” 

Stopping dead in your tracks you say, “a little presumptuous don’t you think?” Josh’s eyes widened and he realized how that sounded, and he opened his mouth to apologize before you continued, “who said we were going to your place instead of mine?” You laughed at how his shoulders visibly relaxed at your words, and caught up with him at the door. 

“You really are a wicked little thing…,” he mumbled as you ventured back out into the cold. 

As you made it to Josh’s car, you thought you had done a good job at not being seen by anyone, but unbeknownst to the two of you, Stacy and Brad were standing on that same deck from earlier. They watched your very freshly-fucked selves climb into the Jeep before taking off.

A week or so later, on Christmas Eve-Eve, you were greeted to a present sitting on your desk. It was a decent sized box covered in blue wrapping paper, matching blue bow on top. 

“Merry Christmas, Blue,” your boyfriends voice sounded behind you. You looked over your shoulder at him, dropping your bag on your chair. “Go on…it’ll fit on your desk.” 

Skeptically you turned and ripped the wrapping paper off the box, the first thing you saw was the red LEGO square in the corner. Confused, you peeled off the rest of the paper to reveal your present. It was the greenhouse LEGO set. 

“You little shit.” 

FIN

Tag List:  @dannyandthekiszkas , @gretasmokerising , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne , @twistedmelodies , @stardustvanfleet ,

[ellsieee]

Stay With Me didn't let us down! 😭 We got kisses and a confession. There is no way anyone can say it's not a BL now. 🙄 Not that there was any doubt even before that. The subtext was just too obvious.

I can't believe they went there. Super sleuths have already found that it really is just lip balm, but the implication is clearly that Wu Bi's dad found his lube. Wu Bi why did you do your dad dirty like that? Don't smear your lube on his mouth! 🤣

Wu Bi was about to confess but he chickened out. 😅 Shy Wu Bi is so cute. Wu Bi really can't live without Su Yu. He had never been that bitchy and rude to Mo Yi before, but now there's someone at home he wants to be with and has no time for Mo Yi's shit.

First almost caught by Wu Bi's dad and now Mao Chong. Su Yu's nervous shifty eyes cracked me up. We all know he and Wu Bi have been doing something something in his room.

They are so happy to see each other!😭Their smiles. Really, I can't. I love how much they love each other. I could not stop smiling watching them hug.

Oh how I squealed. THEY ARE SO FRIGGIN CUTE!!! AHHHHHHH! This might literally be my favorite moment in the entire series.

"Go cough somewhere else" lol. Poor Mo Yi. Right in front of his salad.

Su Yu's little smile is EVERYTHING. I feel like we're missing a scene before this though. It just seems a bit out of place that Wu Bi would run up to kiss Su Yu at school and for Su Yu to not be surprised or embarrassed. I'm counting on that uncut release later. Actually I felt like the editing for these two eps was a bit choppy. I'm going to guess it's because they cut a bunch of stuff because it was too gay.

I love all the subtle ways they show us they're boyfriends. Su Yu casually using Wu Bi as a leg rest, Wu Bi teasing Su Yu about him not knowing he's Wu Bi's most important person, Su Yu taking care of Wu Bi, and Wu Bi making not so subtle hints about their relationship in front of everyone. Why always in front of Doudou? Always! 😅

The normally aloof Su Yu kissed Wu Bi! Again it's Su Yu's little smile after the kiss that makes it so sweet. The spoilers were actually true! I didn't think this would happen because in the behind the scenes Jiongmin had said there was no scene where he kisses Xu Bin, but here we are! Xu Bin's dream has finally come true. 🤭

I was not expecting such an explicit confession! They tried to hide the gay a little by having Su Yu add the ocean part, but Wu Bi's qq screen name is 我想我是海 (I wish I am the sea) and so when Su Yu shouts 我爱你, 大海 (I love you sea), he is not so subtly telling Wu Bi that he loves him. Awwwww. ​​​🥹

But also, I have to drag production a bit on the terrible green screen CGI here. It looks so fake! Did they run out of money? How hard is it to film a sunset at a beach?

No. Don't you dare Mo Yi. Fuck off. If the last two eps break my heart I'm going to consider SWM as having only 22 episodes where the boys are together and happy.

The girls on weibo only went a little crazy. I didn't see SWM on the main hot search but they were trending for a little while. Hopefully it was short enough where it didn't draw too much attention. 😅

[hopefulromances]

Long Time Coming I Chapter Nine I Electric Love

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football protigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning: Some angst

A/N: Enjoy

Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

Jamie gave me some space, for which I was grateful. We had our final match coming up and our dreams of promotion were just in sight. I wanted to be able to focus on what that, the match, which was the most important thing I’d be a part of. But of course, there was only one thing on my mind, and it was Jamie. Without having Jamie around to talk to, I found myself missing him more and more.

I moped my way through the day. Coming to work, going to my desk, going to the pitch, eating a plain salad, and going home. I didn’t want to let it affect my work so when I was on the pitch I tried to stay as unbiased as possible. But honestly, I felt more inadequate than ever. It didn’t help that the media seemed to be shining a light on every mistake you’d ever made in the league.

 “Look, all I’m saying is that she’s too much of an amateur to be on the team,” George Cartrick stated firmly on the Soccer Saturday show. “A woman cannot teach a man.”

“Now, George!” Jeff Stelling defended. “(Y/N) (L/N) has performed admirably under Lasso’s leadership.”

“She’s barely out the womb! What makes her think she’s qualified to be in the Premiere League?” George shot back. “She needs to pack her bags and get out of Richmond before she loses them a chance at promotion.”

I turned my phone off, running a hand through my hair in frustration. Maybe he was right. Maybe I wasn’t ready for this job.

            “George Cartrick is a twat with shriveled balls.” Roy’s voice entered from his side room. “And I should know, he constantly wears pants that show them off.”

I glanced up at him, stuffing my phone in my pocket. “Yeah, thanks, Roy.”

            “Hey, Roy’s right,” Ted agreed. “With the sentiment, I’ve never seen George’s testicles myself.”

I rolled my eyes and rested my head on the desk. I appreciated their sentiment I really did but I was just so BLAH at the moment that nothing they seemed to say or do really help. I was in a funk. A funk I had put myself into. Ted, Roy and Beard exchanged glances with each other.

            “You know, (Y/N),” Ted said, turning to face you. “You can talk to us about anything. Honorary Diamond Dog meeting.”

I peeked out of my arms to look around the room. Nate wasn’t in the room, so I didn’t have to worry about his sorry ass judging my for my pitiful nature. I lifted my head and took a deep inhale.

            “I’m putting space between me and someone I really care about, and I thought it would make me feel better but instead its hurting me more than anything has ever hurt me before.” It all came out in a fast stream of consciousness, not breathing until I got the statement out.

            “Wait, if this is someone you cared about, why are you putting space between you and them.” Beard questioned, finally joining the conversation. You pursed your lips, trying to figure out how to tread this line. There was no way in hell you were telling this group of people about Jamie.

            “Well, um, I was afraid my feelings were getting in the way… and he didn’t care about me the same way I cared about him.” I decided to say. “I thought that I needed to give myself time to get over him.” Beard opened his mouth to say something, but I didn’t let him say anything. “But instead of getting over him, it’s making me want him even more. And I’m trying to focus on the game but everyone and their mom is expecting me to fail! And all I want is to talk to this person because I know they would support me but now I’m afraid to even talk to him!”

Ted raised his eyebrows and let out an impressed whistle. “You got all that cooped up in that head of yours?” I nodded. “Well, no reason you’re in a funk. Look, (Y/N), I think you need to take a note out of a certain snow queen’s book and ‘Let It Go’.”

            “Frozen, classic,” Roy approved, nodding his head.

            “Wait, wait, wait. Let what go?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

            “Well, it seems to me that you are holding on to every feeling, thought, and possibility,” Ted elaborated. “You hold onto all of that you’re gonna pop!”

You frowned at him. “Weren’t you the one who said that sometimes we should keep things inside?”

            “That was before I met the feeling of letting it go! It really works.”

            “It’s true, letting go is great, that’s how I do it,” Roy agreed.

            “Roy! You’re one of the most private people I know!”

            “I’m private, but I also have a very healthy relationship with my emotions and know who and when to trust people with my sharing,” he pointed out, shrugging.

Dammit I hated when he was right. I blew a raspberry and face planted on the table. I wanted to listen to them, and just let things go, but tomorrow was the big day. Maybe it was something I’d worry about later. For now, I’d just focus on the game.

That was my plan at least. But as I was leaving that night, someone pulled me into the boot room. I whipped around to see Jamie looking at me.

            “Jamie what-“

            “Hush, now, last time you got to talk and I didn’t so now you’re gonna listen to me.” He spoke so quickly that you could barely process exactly what he was saying to you.

            “Jamie I-“

“Hush!”

            “But I-“

            “Just listen!” He grabbed me, holding a hand over my mouth. I frown at him but stayed quiet. “I just want to tell you that I was wrong, yeah? I was wrong about everything. I don’t love Keely. I love you.”

My eyes became saucers as I realized what was happening. I knocked his hand away from me, suddenly feeling hurt. He was lying to me. He was giving me his pity. Well, I didn’t want it.

            “Jamie, please stop.” I felt my lip begin to tremble. “You’re being mean.”

            “No, no, no! I mean it!” He insisted, taking me by my shoulders and forcing me to sit down on the bench. He started picking at his fingers as he paced back and forth. “I really do, I was just- I was confused. I had this feeling, like… fluttery stuff in my stomach. And the last time I had that feeling you hated me, and I was with Keely. So… I guess I thought that I was getting that feeling again because of her. But when I told her it didn’t feel right. Then you told me how you felt, and I was so confused.” He finally paused and looked at me. “I know I’m slow, (Y/N), but I get there eventually.”

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I really couldn’t think of anything to say. I was still scared that this was all a joke. That somehow, he didn’t actually love you and he was just trying to get you back in his life no matter what. He held up a hand to silence you.

            “You don’t need to say anything, I know you probably don’t believe me, but I mean it.” Gave me a sideways smile, a hint of his normal cocky self coming out. He stalked forward and bent down, so he was eye-level with me, his face just inches away from mine. “And when we win tomorrow and get promoted, I’ll be doin’ it for you, love.”

The pet name fell so easily off his tongue and I felt my cheeks start to heat up under his gaze. His smirk grew as he saw the blush on my cheeks, any semblance of the anxious boy from before was gone. He gave me one last nod, a wink following it before he turned and left. I was left sitting dumbfounded in the boot room.

            “What… the… fuck?” I finally spouted, bringing my hands up to my cheeks.

            “That was something!” Fucking Will. I turned and looked at him, watching curiously as he shined some shoes. “The two of you are cute!”

I stared at him, still reeling from the interaction. At least there was someone else to there to prove that the interaction actually happened. I didn’t know how to feel. Part of me still believed that Jamie was lying as a way to get me to act normal again, and I honestly wouldn’t blame him. But the other part of me felt like I was soaring. Jamie liked me? No, LOVED me! Could this really be happening?

From then on it felt like I was on auto pilot. Leaving the club, getting home, doing my nighttime yoga. It was all like machinery as I figured out exactly how I should feel about everything. Tomorrow, everything would be different. Whether or not we’d be promoted was one thing but what happened with Jamie and me was entirely different.

It seemed like the whole world was on edge the day of the game. Ted was dealing with his personal life being on display, Roy was having the pain of having his feelings hurt, Beard was on the rocks of Jane (again, and Nate was… well he was acting weirder than normal. All we needed to get promoted was a tie, at the least, but Brentford was a formidable challenger.

I stood in the locker room, drawing up the formation on the board. We were running Nate’s new false nine strategy. It was certainly a choice to try a new tactic so late in the season, especially with promotion on the line but the tactic was good. Colin stood with me, chatting with me about his night and the parking ticket he’d gotten for parking half on the curb outside his house.

            “I swear I didn’t even feel the curb when I parked!” He whined, stretching his arms.

            “Colin, you’re a professional footballer,” I pointed out. “Just pay the ticket. And please, for the love of God, if you feel a bump, stop driving forward.”

He rolled his eyes at me glancing over to say hello to Sam as he walked into the room. Even Sam was had something going on. Edwin Akufo was on his ass about making a decision regarding joining his super team or whatever. I gave him a heartfelt smile which he returned. We all had chips on our shoulders, and this game would prove exactly what we could do with them.

The game did not start well. Brentford scored just twenty minutes into the game. Then again taking us into the half 2-nil. There had to be a solution to this. These guys could play this tactic easily but there was something disconnecting them from the execution of it. Going into the locker room, I could feel the anxiety and disappointment seeping from the lads.

            “I’ma shoot y’all straight. This is bleak, yeah?” Ted started the conversation. “I mean, look at it out there. Looks like a Renaissance painting portraying masculine melancholy.” We looked out into the locker room. It was true, they looked almost angelic in their portrayal of their grief. “Okay, so now what? What are we gonna do?”

            “We should abandon the false nine,” Nate suggested, shaking his head. “It’d work if we had players who knew what the fuck they were doing.”

            “That’s not true, Nate,” I snapped, standing from my seat. Nate glared at me, but I pressed on. “They are perfectly capable of preforming a false nine, they just…” I closed my eyes picture the pitch. “They need to change their perspective.”

            “I agree with (Y/N),” Ted chimed in. “You know, they just had 45 minutes to figure out what not to do. What do you think, Roy?”

            “You should ask them,” Roy offered. “They’re the ones out there actually doing this shit.”

Ted glanced at me then Beard. It was a good idea.

            “Yeah, all right.” We made our way out into the room, gaining the attention of the boys.  “All right, fellas. Coaches and I are are having a little debate and wanna get ya’ll’s take on it. Should we stick with the false nine or switch it up?”

The room was silent as the team thought it over, glancing around das they waited for someone else to speak. It was Jan Maas who stepped up first.

            “The tactic is sound,” he said. “and we’re all perfectly capable of executing it.”

            “Yes, you are,” I encouraged. “The false nine is about deception, playing offense through the guise of defense.” I walked over to the white board where I had drawn up the tactic before the game. “You’re playing too forward, and Brentford sees the moves you make before you make them.” I pointed to the different players. “Fall back, make them come to you, look for the gaps. That’s how you score.”

I turned back around and saw all the eyes on me. I felt a rush of gratitude going through me as I appreciated their sincerity. I deserved to be here, and they knew it. Then my eyes fell on Jamie, who was listening with a soft smile on his face. I felt myself start to smile too.

            “It will work,” Jan Maas agreed.

            “Hey!” Ted interjected. “If Jan Maas says it, you know it’s the truth, right?”

Jamie nodded. But he wasn’t nodding about Jan Maas. He was nodding about the way you had explained the technique to them. As if you were on the field with them, knowing what was going through their minds as they played.

We ended our team meeting with the whole team laying hands on our believe sign. This was it. The moment the team became a family. Going out into the second half, it was like an entirely different team. Before we knew it Sam had scored a miraculous goal and all we needed was one more.

I found myself holding my breath as Jan Maas sent a pass to Jamie. I held my breath as he took control of the ball and started towards the goal. Then a Brentford play was sliding into Jamie’s legs sending him stumbling to the ground. I let out a shout of distain as the crowd cried  to the referee. Then we got it! The referee called a penalty. Jamie hopped up and took the ball.

I knew he could make this goal easily; He hadn’t missed a penalty all season. He turned for a moment to look over at us on the sideline, and his eyes met mine. I could tell he was considering something and was looking at me for something, reassurance?  Whatever he was thinking, I knew he needed to follow his gut, so I gave him a nod. He nodded back to me. Then he did something unexpected. He gave the ball to Dani.

Jamie gave up his chance to be called the savior of Richmond. Because that’s not what he needed to do. In this moment, he needed to get Dani his confidence back.  Gone were the days that Jamie was afraid that Dani would replace him. Instead, he was working with him to allow the team to shine.

In that moment, I decided I didn’t care if the whole world stopped, all I wanted was to be with Jamie.

Which was good because it felt like the whole world did stop as Dani prepared to score. Time stood still as he ran towards the ball, and with one fell swoop Dani scored, tying the game. The stadium erupted into cheers and excitement. We did it, we really did it.

…

The excitement and celebrations of promotion lasted at least an hour as we paraded around the club. The boys found a bar to go to nearby to celebrate the win together. But I had unfinished business here, and I hoped Jamie would find me.

I stood on our pitch, hands in my pockets as I planned out what I was going to say. I was going to tell him that I loved him, too. That I wanted to be with him. That nothing else mattered. But then I saw him, big smile on his face, as he walked towards me in his red vest and ICON hat and everything, everything I planned left my head.

            “Well, what did I say?” He bragged as he walked towards me. “Promoted, eh? How’s it feel to be in the presence of greatness?” I stared at him as he came to stand in front of me. On our pitch. The same pitch I’d chewed him out on just a year ago. He cocked his head at me, raising his eyebrows. “What is it? Why you lookin’ at me like that?”

I grabbed him by his vest and pulled him down to kiss me. He recovered from his surprise in time to grab me by my waist and tugged me closer to him. Electricity shot through me as his lips fit mine just right. How was I supposed to kiss anyone else now that I knew what kissing Jamie was like? It was heated, it was sweet, it was passionate.

It was like fucking lightening.

A/N: To be continued...

Tag List:

@heletsmelovehim @higherthanheroes @ajax-petropolus-wife @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @kno-way-home @sleepy-time @wigglegiggle @skewedcherries @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @snubug @rana030

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

Secrets From a Girl

Masterlist

Word Count: 7.6k

Pairing: Jake x Reader

Genre: Angst, slight hurt, ex!Jake

Context: Y/N, a very successful singer-songwrite has been close friends with the members of Greta Van Fleet for several years. She once had a tumultuous yet terribly passionate relationship with Jake that ended painfully (you’ll see…). They eventually figured out how to remain on good terms for everybody’s sake. Only, seeing each other move on isn’t the easiest thing.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come. Also, I guess this fic could be triggering for some because it’s kind of sad and angsty.

Previous Track: California

Chapter soundtrack: Secrets From A Girl – Lorde

Baby girl, no one's gonna feel the pain for you. You're gonna love again, so just try staying open, And when the time comes, you'll fall. Yeah, when the time comes, you'll fall. … Your dreams and inner visions, all your mystical ambitions. They won't let you down. Do your best to trust all the rays of light. Everybody wants the best for you, But you gotta want it for yourself, My love.

(By the way, for every ‘Chapter Soundtrack’, basically the idea is that it’s a song that YN eventually wrote with that chapter of her life in mind)

Alright, let’s get into this.

________

Breathe me in, breathe me out I don't know if I could ever go without…

The dim glow of the living room greeted Jake as he stumbled in, still half-asleep. The boys huddled around Danny's iPad, their animated discussion creating a low hum in the room. An air of disagreement hung over them, their faces etched with differing opinions.

“I’m telling you there’s no way-” Josh's voice cut through the murmurs, his conviction triggering another round of mumbles from the others. Jake, now fully awake, couldn't resist the urge to join the fray.

“What are you all looking at?” he inquired, his curiosity piqued. The collective gaze shifted toward him, finally acknowledging his presence.

 “It’s this thing,” Danny turned around to face him, eyes still glued to the tablet in his hand. “There’s a music video that came out yesterday, and the press online is freaking out, saying Y/N’s in it-”

“I mean, it could be her,” Sam interjected, grabbing the iPad. “It’s not like it shows that much-”

“I've been telling you there is no way that’s her,” Josh rolled his eyes, exasperation evident in his tone.

“I mean,” Danny added, a hint of skepticism in his voice, “we see what? A waist? A neck? That could be anyone.”

“Thank you,” Josh said, his response laced with vindictiveness.

Jake grabbed the tablet from Sam, his eyes squinting as they adjusted to the bright screen. The video unfolded before him; each frame scrutinized in his quest for confirmation. Emotions stirred within him, a blend of curiosity and a hint of something he couldn't quite put into words.

The woman in the video did seem to move with an uncanny familiarity, a subtle recognition tugging at Jake's senses. A quick exchange of glances with Josh only added to the intrigue. “What’s the name of the song?” Jake asked, nonchalant.

“Uh, it’s—” Sam replied, “something- fruit salad whatever—”

“Title’s here, see?” Danny pointed out, “Watermelon Sugar.”

The words unexpectedly struck Jake like a chord. He cleared his throat, a feigned nonchalance concealing the memories creeping the back of his mind. "I don’t know,” he mumbled, “could be her." He returned the iPad and casually making his way out the door.

"Where you going?" Sam asked.

"Gotta piss," Jake replied, his footsteps echoing through the corridor.

The bathroom door clicked shut behind him, enclosing him in a small space. Resting his hands against the sides of the sink, he let out a deep breath before meeting his own gaze in the mirror.

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

The living room had been bathed in the warm glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains, that day. The faint crackling of the record player added a gentle melody to the lazy ambiance.

They were entwined on the couch, the vinyl spinning tales of bygone eras as if time had slowed down just for them. He felt the subtle weight of her against him, a comforting presence in the hushed tranquility.

Her soft hums danced in the air, a serenade that painted the room with a touch of nostalgia. It wasn't often that their hectic schedules allowed for such tranquil moments, making each second all-the-more precious.

As the last notes of the song played, the spell was momentarily broken. She stirred, a reluctant movement signaling an impending departure.

"Alright,” she announced, a practical reminder of the outside world, “I’m gonna be late." He caught her wrist, a silent plea for just a few more moments in this pocket of calm and pulled her back onto his lap. She let out a playful giggle, the sound a melody in itself.

"Five more minutes," he pleaded, a pout playing on his lips.

"Patty will be mad," she teased, rolling her eyes.

"Patty’s always mad," he retorted, nuzzling into the soft curve of her neck, losing himself in the intoxicating fragrance that was uniquely hers.

He lowered his head, and their lips met in a lingering kiss. The warmth shared between them seemed to suspend time. There was a quiet intimacy to the way their mouths moved together, a silent language only they could understand. After a moment, she gently pulled away, and he playfully protested with a melodramatic whine.

He looked up as she was grabbing her shoes. "Your lips always taste so nice," he mumbled, "How do they always taste so nice?" The question was posed with genuine curiosity, as if he were unraveling a mystery that had been haunting him.

Blushing at the compliment, she chuckled softly. "I don't know," she admitted, feigning innocence, "probably just my lip balm." Retrieving a pink stick from her pocket, she tossed it to him.

With a smooth catch, he examined the innocent-looking tube. Opening the cap, he took a moment to savor the scent.

He raised an eyebrow at the name on the label, "Watermelon sugar?" he said, "Doesn't smell like watermelon” he remarked, “or sugar, for that matter."

“Yeah?” she asked with a grin, “What does it smell like, then?”

He considered for a moment, tempted to confess what the scent truly evoked for him—her presence, her essence, everything that made her uniquely YN. However, with a sly grin, he opted for a less sentimental response.

"Strawberry," he replied, keeping his more poetic thoughts to himself. "It's nice."

Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she laced up her shoes. "Well, keep it," she suggested, a playful glint in her eyes. "I have, like, two hundred sticks hidden everywhere."

"I don't use lip balm," he stated.

“Not rock 'n roll enough for you?" she teased, slipping into her jacket. "Still,” she added, a playful glint in her eyes, “that way you can remember me when I’m gone.”

A quizzical arch of his eyebrow prompted him to play along. “Are you planning on leaving me, Y/L/N?” he inquired with a mock-serious tone, leaning into the charming act.

“Depends,” she retorted, her eyes dancing with mischief, “are you in any hurry to be rid of me, Kiszka?”

A soft chuckle escaped him. "Well, I wouldn’t say I’m in a hurry, per se, but—"

“Oh shush, you.” With a swift motion, she tossed it at him. “I’ll call you when I get out of the studio,” she declared, leaning in for a quick peck on his lips.

With a final lingering glance, she headed out, leaving him staring at her disappearing figure with a stupid smile, the sweet taste of her kiss still lingering on his lips.

If only he’d known merely two years later, they'd find themselves almost estranged, maybe, just maybe, he would’ve forced her to stay, maybe he would've held onto her a minute more.

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

Kneeling on the cool bathroom floor, Jake opened the cabinet under the sink, his hands sifting through an assortment of Josh's hair products. His fingers finally closed around it—a small, inconspicuous pink stick.

A momentary hope flickered that perhaps his memory had failed him, but as he held it in his hands, the label staring back at him, reality set in. The words on the label mirrored those etched in his memory. Unease settled in his chest as he was reminded of the fact that, once, he’d been the one not wondering if he could ever go without Watermelon Sugar.

_____________

Jake returned to the dining room, the echoes fading away as he rejoined the ongoing conversation among the boys.

"Well, I mean, I guess we’ll find out soon enough, right?" Sam's casual tone filled the room.

"Oh yeah, when is she landing?" Danny's curiosity sparked.

"It was supposed to be at 3, but her flight’s been delayed, so she’ll have to come here straight from the airport," Josh informed, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and anticipation, "and you’d better be ready by then because we’re leaving for the venue right after."

"Sure,” Sam deadpanned, rolling his eyes at his older brother, “we’re going to take lessons in punctuality from you."

The American Music Awards were taking place in Nashville that year, providing a perfect opportunity for YN to reunite with the band. As Jake listened to the details, he couldn't help but feel a sense of strange apprehension. No matter how much time went by, how many girlfriends he went through, the prospect of YN's return always stirred up memories he had buried deep within.

The anticipation in the room grew, mirroring the excitement buzzing through the city. As they prepared for YN's arrival.

_________

A few hours later, a caravan of cars eventually rumbled down their street, an entourage of professionals descending upon the Greta headquarters. Security personnel, stylists, makeup artists, and hairstylists orchestrated a controlled chaos, transforming the residence into a bustling hive of activity.

Amidst the organized frenzy, Josh stood ready to greet YN's manager, a familiar face accustomed to the whirlwind that accompanied the life of a pop star. "Patty! It’s been too long,” Josh hugged the imposing woman. “Where’s YN?" he inquired, slightly concerned at YN’s apparent absence.

Dramatic as ever, YN's manager responded, "Pop stars, my darling, you know the drill. The airport was flooded with people."

"Is she still coming?" Josh pressed for reassurance.

"Of course she is. The show must go on!" she exclaimed with theatrical flair, "We just had to resort to... unusual methods," she added with a mysterious grin.

"Jesus,” Josh quipped, a hint of exasperation in his voice, “is she in a car trunk again?"

"A magician never reveals their tricks, sugar," she replied. "Anyway, in the meantime we can zhuzh y’all up,” she seized the boy’s face in her manicured hands before adding with a wink, “YN insisted."

The ambiance in the house shifted, embracing the essence of a backstage prelude before a grand performance. The rooms echoed with laughter, snippets of conversations, and the occasional hum of hair dryers. The scent of hairspray wafted through the air, blending with the underlying excitement that filled every corner of the space. The members of Greta Van Fleet, caught between the surreal and the routine, allowed themselves to be swept into the whirlwind.

The boys navigated the hustle and bustle of preparation with an air of practiced nonchalance. Their planned outfits, carefully curated for the grandeur of the Billboard Music Awards, exuded a sense of rock-and-roll sophistication. The expertise of YN’s staff worked wonders, transforming the brothers' already charismatic looks into something ready for the dazzling lights of the red carpet.

Suddenly, the house erupted in noise and stir as YN's arrival was announced. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as she was ushered inside, immediately surrounded by a flock of stylists and makeup artists. Their mission: to seamlessly transition her from airport-casual to red-carpet-glamour in 40 minutes time.

 Amidst the organized chaos, the brothers found themselves fighting to get close to their old friend, a playful struggle that Sam punctuated with a groan. "Hey, folks, this is still our house, you know?" he protested with a grin.

YN's eyes lit up as she looked up, her gaze finally meeting theirs. Her face broke into the brightest smile. "Hi!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying genuine warmth and excitement. The air crackled with a blend of familiarity and anticipation while they shared a collective greeting. Josh pulled YN into a tight hug.

Jake, with his trademark laid-back charm, extended a casual yet heartfelt greeting. "Hey there," he said, a lopsided grin playing on his lips.

Sam patted YN's head, "What's up, popstar?" he teased, a cheeky grin accompanying his words. As the hellos and laughter echoed in the room, it became evident that despite the divergent paths they had taken in the music industry, their connection remained unshakable.

"So sorry for the commotion, guys," YN said, an apologetic smile tugging at her lips, “I was stuck in JFK for hours.” Her eyes flickered with gratitude for their understanding, acknowledging the huge mess that had taken over the place.

"No worries," Danny chimed in with an easygoing shrug, brushing off any concern.

"Yeah," Sam nodded in agreement, “besides, it’s no more chaotic than any random Sunday morning at Josh's place.”

Josh, smiled tightly, “And guess who is not invited to my next brunch?”

YN laughed, appreciating the lighthearted banter. "I’ve missed you guys." She was suddenly called into another room for hair and makeup and disappeared into the whirlwind of her glam team.

___________

Josh made his way to what had once been his bedroom, now turned into a makeshift beauty salon. He settled into the chair beside YN, the room buzzing with the orchestrated chaos of hairstyling. She was sat, draped in nothing but a towel, her hair in the careful hands of a stylist. Amid the whirlwind of beauty products, Josh initiated their exchange.

"So…" he began, leaning closer to be heard above the loud blow-dryer, "anything new with you?"

With a radiant smile, YN responded, her voice rising to match the decibels of the styling tools. "Well, I'm excited for tonight," she shared, the anticipation of the upcoming event evident in her expressive eyes. Her words touched on the delicate balance of managing expectations in the spotlight, a window into the intricacies of fame that often lay beneath the surface. "What about you, love?" she asked, inviting him to share his own slice of life.

"Nothing much," he replied casually, though the inquisitiveness in his eyes betrayed a deeper curiosity. “Anything else?” he insisted, his probing question hanging in the air—It was a subtle dance, an attempt to delve into the unspoken realms between them.

YN eyed him with suspicion, a momentary pause of understanding passing between them before he met her gaze in return. She finally spoke, “You saw the articles, didn’t you?”

Josh grinned at her, his reply laced with a hint of playful sarcasm. "Well, I'm pretty sure a blind man could've seen the articles, babe," he quipped, drawing a light chuckle from the hairdresser immersed in her task.

 "Damnit," YN sighed, a touch of disappointment in her voice. The weight of public scrutiny and speculation was always an unwanted companion for her.

"So…?" Josh inquired, a mix of curiosity and disbelief in his voice as he awaited her confirmation or denial. YN remained silent, but a delicate smile betrayed her thoughts, a revelation that left Josh stunned. "Shit, it's true?" he uttered, the realization settling in.

“Our Y/N settling down,” Sam chimed in, entering the room, “I guess now we’ve really seen it all!” YN rolled her eyes playfully, the smile on her face still lingering.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Josh asked, his tone a blend of confusion and mild reproach, “We were on the phone literally a week ago.”

“I don’t know,” she shook her head, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions under the bright lights of the makeup room. The soft hum of conversation around her, the subtle fragrance of cosmetics in the air. "It all went really fast. We met at a party in LA a few months ago and,” she paused, “I don’t know, we just hit it off, I guess?”

“Hit it off?” Sam remarked, glancing at his own reflection in the mirror, “I’d say it’s more than that.”

“Well,” A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she ran her fingers through her partially styled hair. “We weren’t planning on going public anytime soon,” YN explained, her gaze meeting Josh's, a sense of vulnerability lingering beneath the makeup and glamour, “but with the whole- music video thing, I guess it’s already happening.”

_________

Outside the room, the atmosphere was charged with a mix of excitement and tension. The hallway buzzed with the hurried footsteps of stylists and assistants. Jake, however, stood still, his eyes momentarily lost in thought after overhearing the conversation. The ambient light cast shadows on his face, revealing the subtle furrow of his brow.

As Danny approached, he could sense the undercurrent of unease in his bandmate's demeanor. "You, okay?" Danny asked, concern etched across his face.

"Mmh? Yeah, sure," Jake mumbled, but his voice carried a weight that contradicted his words. “I gotta go get dressed” he added, walking away.

__________

Back inside the room, the air carried a mix of emotions—joy, surprise, and a hint of playful banter. YN's eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. "So, everyone knows?" she asked, nervously glancing at Josh, who nodded affirmatively.

"I still can’t believe it," Sam laughed, injecting a playful tease into the atmosphere. "Going from rockstars to boybands?” he teased, “I gotta tell you, YN, that’s- that's quite a downgrade."

Rolling her eyes, YN couldn't resist the opportunity for a retort, "Oh, shut up." With a smirk, she grabbed a hairbrush and tossed it in Sam's direction, "I'll have you know he’s doing very well with his solo career."

"Not wrong,” Danny joined the conversation, “and if I remember correctly, you were the one insisting on playing 'Sweet Creature' in the car last year, Sam."

"We've all got our flaws," the youngest retorted dramatically, drawing a collective chuckle from the room.

"Come on, now, I’m serious.” YN said, her tone lighthearted yet somewhat defensive, “Be nice."

Josh was surprised by the protective edge to YN's tone, prompting him to consider the depth of her new relationship. "We're just joking around, don’t worry," he reassured her, "I'm sure he's great."

Sam, never one to back down, continued, "now, whether he's actually cool enough for you is a different matter."

With a nonchalant air, YN replied, "Well, you'll get to find out soon enough." Her words hung in the room, creating a brief lull in the conversation. Curiosity and a touch of concern crept into Josh's expression.

"How… soon, exactly?" he eventually asked.

“Well,” she giggled nervously, “now that you mention it. How would you feel about- um," she paused, "I don’t know,” she toyed with the hem of her towel before mumbling, “tonight?”

“Tonight!?” the three boys exclaimed simultaneously, their expression registering shock.

“Well, he is nominated-” she began to explain.

“Tonight, as in, two-hours-from-now-tonight?” Sam asked, trying to process the unexpected revelation.

“Well, what’s wrong with tonight?” she asked, her voice slightly trembling as she tried to stay calm, “it’s a night—a good night, I- I would even say it’s a- a great night, right?” she looked to Josh for backup, “Right?”

“Holy shit,” Danny muttered, uncharacteristic reaction for the usually composed musician.

"Alright," YN’s manager burst into the room, punctuating her entrance with grand gestures. "Everyone who isn’t working towards turning our girl into a couture creature, out!" she declared with theatrical flair. "We are out of here in twenty minutes!"

The room quickly cleared, with only YN and her stylists remaining in their spot. YN grabbed Josh’s wrist abruptly as he got up to leave. “Can you, uh-” she hesitated, avoiding eye contact, “can you give him a heads up for me?”

Josh nodded, gently. No clarifications were needed. “Of course,” he replied, before exiting the room.

___________

Josh had the finishing touches added to his hair before approaching his twin brother, who was engrossed in the meticulous process of tying his dress shoes. He hesitated before breaking the silence, "So, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but, uh-"

“I heard,” Jake cut him off, his eyes still focused on the task at hand, hands moving with a precision that seemed almost automatic.

“And,” Josh paused, choosing his words carefully, “you alright?”

“Sure,” Jake responded with a nonchalant shrug, his gaze shifting momentarily to the mirror as he fine-tuned the arrangement of his jewelry. Josh couldn’t help but feel a sense of surprise at the lack of reaction from his brother. It left him questioning his instincts. Maybe they truly had both moved on. After all, it’s true that Jake had been the first to get into other relationships.

___________

After twenty minutes, YN finally stepped out, a vision of elegance in a custom gown that could rival the most iconic looks from the fashion archives. The dress seemed to embrace her figure like a second skin, and Jake couldn't help but feel a sense of awe as he took in the sight.

 The room fell into a momentary hush as everyone's eyes were drawn to her, and even Josh found himself momentarily silenced by the sheer presence she exuded. YN's confident strides and poised demeanor demanded attention, making it clear that she was more than just a musician – she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Gucci, huh?” Sam smirked teasingly, “Someone's living the high life now."

“Well, Samuel,” YN shot back with a sly smile, "someone had to bring a touch of class to this crew."

"So, this is what happens when one sells their soul and upgrades to mainstream, huh?” Sam retorted playfully.

YN, always ready with a quick response, turned to Josh, "I’m sorry, is the person dressed like the Messiah talking to me?" she asked, gesturing toward Sam’s attire. Her comment elicited laughter from the room.

"Shots fired," Danny declared.

In the midst of the banter, YN stole a glance at Jake. His black suit complemented his rugged charm, an open shirt revealing a glimpse of his chest adorned with dangling necklaces. He looked good.

As YN hurriedly climbed into the awaiting car, a sleek black vehicle poised to transport her to the event, a flurry of stylists and assistants encircled her. In a synchronized dance, they meticulously attended to the final details of her immaculate ensemble.

 Several assistants, keen on maintaining the gown's pristine appearance, worked in harmony to ensure it cascaded flawlessly around her. Every fold and movement were handled with the precision reserved for a precious work of art. The atmosphere hummed with an undercurrent of excitement as YN gave a wave and a spirited shout, "I'll see you there!"

Meanwhile, the members of the band swiftly jumped into the back of their own designated car, the car door closing with a soft thud. The convoy of vehicles, an orchestrated ballet of anticipation, set in motion, leaving the house behind and heading towards the event that awaited them.

______________

The sleek line of black cars glided to a stop, marking the arrival of the band at the glamorous event. As the car doors opened, each member emerged into the dazzling spectacle of camera flashes and the cacophony of enthusiastic screams from fans and journalists alike. Stepping onto the red carpet, they were immediately swept up in the chaotic energy of the moment.

The band, accustomed to the electrifying rush of performing on stage, felt a subtle discomfort in the spotlight of the red carpet. The controlled chaos of a live performance was far more natural to them than the orchestrated poses and smiles demanded by the array of flashing cameras. Despite this, they maintained a polished facade, exchanging smiles, waves, and nods with the eager crowd.

Navigating the sea of journalists, each band member expertly fielded questions and posed for photos, their years of experience having honed their ability to navigate the less comfortable aspects of fame.

The sudden surge of screams reached a crescendo, capturing the band's attention as they turned to witness the arrival of YN. Her presence, ethereal and captivating, stole the spotlight. The custom gown she adorned seemed to possess a life of its own, catching the glow of the venue's lights.

 Her assistant fussed over the gown's train, making sure it trailed behind her effortlessly, as she stepped onto the red carpet, met with the undivided attention of everyone present.

YN was a natural at all this. Of course, anyone who truly knew her could see the slight tremor in her hands and the discreet heaving of her chest behind her composed appearance, but she played the part with finesse, engaging effortlessly with the cameras, flashing smiles, and striking poses.

With a radiant smile, YN gracefully walked towards the band. Deciding to seize the moment, she posed for a couple of photos with the band, creating a visual feast for the delighted fans whose cheers resonated in the background.

The intimacy was palpable as they exchanged smiles. After a brief interlude, they parted ways, the band venturing a little further to engage with journalists, while YN lingered, extending her time to pose for additional photos.

The band continued answering questions from journalists, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement. Suddenly, a surge of deafening screams erupted from the crowd. Heads turned, and there he was – Harry Styles. Screams and gasps spread through the onlookers, all wondering if they were about to witness the confirmation to what they had all been speculating about.

Anticipation reached its peak as Harry walked over to YN. He gently grabbed her by the waist, and together, they posed for the cameras, effectively hard launching their relationship to the public as the flashes illuminated their smiling faces.

The band members exchanged discreet glances, a mix of surprise and curiosity evident in their expressions. As they continued answering questions, their attention intermittently diverted to the unfolding scene. Fans were ecstatic, their screams echoing in the air, and journalists feverishly snapped photos of the unexpected couple.

Jake stood with a thoughtful expression on his face. The turn of events seemed to have unexpectedly caught him off guard. As he continued with the interview, his responses held a subtle undercurrent of distraction. The unfamiliarity of seeing YN in the arms of another man had stirred quiet contemplation within him.

______________

The prestigious event started with grandeur. Seated at separate tables, the band and YN navigated the star-studded gathering, each absorbed in their own conversations. The vibrant energy of the venue resonated with the collective excitement of attendees, a mix of industry luminaries, celebrities, and devoted fans. The stage, adorned with dazzling lights set the scene for a night of celebration.

As the ceremony kicked off, artists from various genres took to the stage. The evening unfolded and the band couldn't help but exchange amused glances and subtle eye rolls. Clear instances of lip-syncing from certain artists drew their collective skepticism, a sentiment seemingly shared by few others in the room.

The audience responded to each performance with cheers, applause, and sometimes even tears. Greta Van Fleet eventually took the stage with an electrifying energy that reverberated through the venue. The unmistakable sound of roaring guitars and thunderous drums filled the air as the band launched into one of their signature hits.

As Jake's fingers danced across the frets of his guitar, delivering powerful riffs that cut through the air with precision. There was a noticeable intensity in his playing, as though he’d been compensating for something unseen.

As the members of Greta Van Fleet walked through the backstage area, the exhilaration of their performance still coursing through their veins, they stumbled upon YN. Her eyes sparkled with genuine excitement and pride congratulating them enthusiastically. "You guys killed it up there, as usual," YN exclaimed, as she pulled them into a tight hug, always their number one fan. “I’m next, I have to change, but I wanted to see you all first.”

They were suddenly distracted by the sight of YN’s assistant carrying a ridiculously massive bouquet of roses into her dressing room.

 Sam to playfully inquired, "Loverboy?"

A shy smile tugged at YN's lips as she nodded, "He's- a little extra," she admitted.

Jake couldn't help but recall that YN had always preferred daisies to roses but chased the thought away immediately.

With a gentle nudge from Josh, YN snapped back to the present. "Alright, we’ll leave you to it then,” he said, “Give 'em hell," he added, maintaining a long-running tradition.

 "Sure will," YN replied as she headed off to prepare for her own performance.

As YN's name echoed through the venue, the crowd erupted into a symphony of screams, their excitement palpable. YN gracefully ascended the stage, adorned in a simple silk slip. A genuine smile played on her lips as the frenzy of the crowd intensified.

 The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as she settled behind the piano, her fingers poised above the keys. Once the audience calmed down, she started playing.

The audience fell into a collective hushed reverence, hanging onto every note and every nuance. Throughout the performance, glances exchanged among the crowd spoke volumes.

Amidst the sea of enraptured faces, Jake found himself descreetly drawn into the universe crafted by YN. From his vantage point, the stage lights framed her in a soft glow, casting an enchanting aura around her figure.

His eyes followed her every movement and the crowded venue seemed to fade away, leaving only YN and the echoes of her melody. The vulnerability in her performances always tugged at something within the guitarst, a reminder of the shared history that lingered between them.

As the final notes hung in the air, the applause thundered through the venue. Brought back to the present, Jake joined the enthusiastic ovation.

___________

The glitz and glamour continued to sweep through the venue. The stage saw a procession of artists and creators, each claiming their well-deserved accolades. Awards were handed out, speeches were delivered, and the audience reveled in the collective spirit of recognition. In this whirlwind of excitement, the moment for the most coveted award approached, adding a layer of suspense to an already dazzling night.

The atmosphere in the venue crackled with tension as Kelly Clarkson announced the nominees for the highly anticipated "Artist of the Year" award. YN's heart raced, and she fidgeted in her seat, her nerves palpable in the moments leading up to the reveal.

 As the presenter uttered YN’s name among the nominees, a surge of nervous energy gripped YN. Seeking solace, she glanced over at Josh, finding reassurance in his playful encouragement from two tables away—two thumbs up and an exaggerated, silly expression that managed to coax a smile from her. The room held its breath as Kelly Clarkson opened the envelope, unveiling the winner.

The cheers from the crowd enveloped YN as her name echoed through the venue, and she sat there, momentarily frozen, the magnitude of the recognition sinking in.

YN eventually rose from her seat, a mixture of shock and joy playing on her face. She took the first steps toward the stage. The anticipation of the crowd created a surreal ambiance, the cheers and applause merging into a harmonious melody of celebration.

However, as she reached the bottom of the stairs, a momentary panic seized her. The elegant expanse of her gown posed an unexpected challenge, leaving her unsure of how to navigate the ascent gracefully. In that heartbeat of uncertainty, a comforting touch enveloped her arm, and she turned to find someone had rushed to her side. Jake.

His presence, as reliable as ever, was a silent reassurance. Without uttering a word, he linked his arm with hers, a subtle gesture that conveyed both support and familiarity. Together, they embarked on the climb, the cheers of the crowd still in the background.

“Congrats,” he breathed with a prideful grin once they reached the stage.

She mouthed a “thank you” in response, her own smile mirroring his.

As Jake settled back into his seat, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on YN, who now stood poised at the stand, a mix of nerves and excitement dancing in her eyes. The room hushed in anticipation, the spotlight now solely on her.

As YN began her thank-you speech, all words seemed to momentarily vacate her brain, leaving a genuine vulnerability that resonated with the audience. The microphone in front of her captured the tremor in her voice as she expressed gratitude and humility.

"I-I uh, want to first extend my heartfelt appreciation to my incredible fans," she began, her eyes scanning the sea of faces before her. "I'm endlessly grateful for your unwavering support, God knows I’ve needed it lately," a chuckle erupted in the crowd.

The room hung on her every word, and Jake, from his seat, felt a surge of pride for the woman who had once shared her dreams and fears with him.

As she navigated the speech, a captivating blend of sincerity and humility. “Oh, gosh, so many people to thank, I already know I’m going to forget a bunch” she rambled nervously, and slight laughter erupted in the room.

“I’d like to thank my manager, my crew, of course, my friends, my, uh,” her gaze instinctively found the members of the band, seated proudly at their table, “my family,” she winked at them with a chuckle. The boys shared a collective moment, blowing a kiss her way, their eyes gleaming with shared triumph.

She continued expressing gratitude to key figures in her life and career, the room buzzed with a contagious energy. With a confident smile, she concluded her speech, leaving the audience with a poetic resonance that lingered in the air.

__________

The grand finale of the event unfolded like the crescendo of a spectacular symphony. YN gracefully danced through the maze of flashing cameras to reach her awaiting car, a modern-day muse amidst the paparazzi chaos.

The band, too, exuding the effortless cool of rockstars, threaded through the sea of lights in a rhythmic procession.

The engines hummed in harmony, syncing with the pulsating energy of the night as they embarked on a journey through the neon-lit streets, where every flicker tells a story of fame, music, and the allure of the after-hours. The fleet of sleek, tinted cars converged, creating a glamorous caravan destined for the city's heartbeat—the long-anticipated after-party.

____________

The club's entrance radiated a neon glow as the members of Greta Van Fleet strode through the entrance, greeted by the pulse of bass and the vibrant hum of the crowd inside.

The venue, a chic downtown club, pulsated with an electrifying energy.  

The band navigated through the throng of A-listers, the air punctuated by laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional flash of cameras capturing candid moments.

As the animated chatter and laughter enveloped the venue, Jake engaged in a riveting conversation with none other than Jimmy Page.

They were exchanging anecdotes when suddenly, the entrance erupted with cheers, prompting Jake to glance across the lively crowd. There, making a striking entrance, was YN, adorned in a sleek black dress, accompanied by her new beau. The cheers amplified as the couple embraced the spotlight, and Jake watched from afar.

Retreating from the buzzing atmosphere of the party, Jake immersed himself back into his captivating conversation with the guitarist. The exchange of musical tales continued to flow, momentarily sweeping away any unease lingering in his mind. However, after a while, he sensed the need for a change of scenery.

Making his way to the bar, he sought solace in the company of Sam and Danny. Ordering himself a whiskey, Jake leaned against the bar, the amber liquid a familiar comfort.

In the lively chatter of the party, he appreciated the anchor provided by his bandmates. Despite the external facade of confidence, Jake had never been much of a socialite, leaving that to his twin brother.

Events like these had a tendency to leave him longing for something stronger than whiskey, an itch he'd been trying to steer clear from for over two years now. Ever-mindful of the shadows that lingered within, he found relief in the presence of Sam and Danny.

Suddenly, Josh’s voice cut through the ambient noise. “There they are!” He led YN and Harry towards his bandmates, a grin on his face. As the trio made their way through the crowd, the anticipation among the band members heightened. Jake shifted slightly, his attention now fully on the approaching trio.

"Hey!” YN announced with an infectious enthusiasm as they reached the bar, “So, this is Harry," she squeezed her boyfriend’s arm, nervously, “And, Harry, this is the band.”

The boys exchanged pleasantries, Sam and Danny offering friendly smiles while Jake, not one to be overly expressive, extended a nod of acknowledgment.

Harry, ever the charmer, reciprocated the introductions with genuine warmth. "Pleasure to meet you all. YN's told me so much about you. Big fan.".

The exchange was cordial, and as it flowed, YN ensured everyone felt included. Harry, charismatic and engaging, effortlessly integrated into the circle, which seemed to make YN ecstatic.

As the conversation meandered through various topics, Harry turned to Jake and decided to share a common experience. "Love the long hair,” he remarked with a friendly grin, trying to strike a chord of camaraderie, “I used to rock it too, miss it sometimes."

Jake, initially caught off guard, responded with a hint of indifference, "Do you, now?" His tone, unintentionally brusque, drew a subtle side-eye from Josh, who discreetly stepped on his brother's foot, a non-verbal prompt to play nice. Caught in the act, Jake quickly corrected himself. "Well, short suits you, man,” he said softening his tone, “I've just always been too lazy to bother with haircuts, I guess."

            “If only Josh was the same,” Sam joked nudging Josh playfully, “I swear that one spends more time at the salon than the studio.” The tension diffused, and the conversation continued, albeit with a newfound awareness from Jake to navigate the social waters more gracefully.

The night continued its crescendo, the pulse of the party echoing through the lively venue. As Jake continued to sip on his drink at the bar, his gaze inadvertently gravitated toward YN and Harry. The duo, wrapped in the warmth of each other's company, seemed to float through the crowd.

The sight tugged at a spectrum of emotions within Jake’s inebriated mind. Harry's hand rested casually on her waist, a gesture that spoke volumes. Laughter flowed effortlessly between the two of them, creating an aura of intimacy that eclipsed the surrounding revelry.

The party unfolded in layers, each moment a brushstroke in the canvas of the night. Yet, beneath the surface of celebration, Jake couldn't shake the complex emotions that swirled within him. The alcohol served as a temporary buffer, but the currents of his contemplation ran deep, hidden beneath the veneer of the lively gathering.

Jake felt a sense of relief wash over him as he stepped into the cool night air, the bustling sounds of the lively club gradually fading behind him. Pulling out his phone, he swiftly ordered a cab to take him back to his sanctuary of solitude. Just as he confirmed the ride, YN's voice cut through the night.

"You're leaving, already?" she asked. Surprised, he turned around to meet her figure. Her eyes reflected a mix of curiosity and disappointment.

"Yeah,” he admitted, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I'm exhausted."

Her gaze lingered on him, a subtle worry lingering in her expression. "You're not driving, are you?" she inquired after a moment, her concern tethered to memories of a past filled with reckless habits.

The weight of the implication made him sigh. "I ordered a cab," he reassured her, hoping to ease the concern etched on her face. Despite her attempts to appear nonchalant, the genuine worry in her eyes didn't escape him.

"Good," she nodded, a soft exhale escaping her lips. A brief pause filled the space between them before she added, "It's a shame you can't stay longer."

As the night air embraced them in a cocoon of quiet, Jake sensed the nervous energy radiating from YN. No words were needed to decipher the unspoken thoughts swirling in her mind. With a knowing smile, he addressed the unspoken concern.

"Tell Harry bye for me,” he said, his tone light and reassuring “he's a cool guy."

YN's face immediately lit up, gratitude and relief washing over her. "I will," she responded.

In the ensuing quiet, a gentle moment lingered between them. "Alright," Jake said, breaking the silence, "you should go back inside; you'll freeze to death out here."

"I'm okay," she insisted, a subtle shiver instantly betraying her words. Without hesitation, Jake peeled off his jacket, but just as he handed it to her, Harry's voice echoed from within the club, disrupting the tranquility.

"YN, love, are you coming back in?" Harry's call prompted a sudden pause in the exchange.

Realizing the implications of his gesture, Jake hesitated before gently urging her, "You should go." She looked at him hesitantly. "I'll be fine," he insisted, his eyes holding a quiet reassurance.

As she pondered, a gust of chilly night air swept through. The glow from the club's entrance cast a soft halo around her silhouette. The distant sounds of laughter and music from the after-party lingered, creating an ethereal backdrop to their conversation.

"Alright, but-” she hesitated, looking down, “that means I won’t see you before flying back,” she confessed, her voice holding a note of longing, the unspoken yearning for more time evident in her eyes.

“You’re not staying at the house?” Jake probed gently.

Her response wavered, caught in the delicate balance of unspoken truths. “No, I- uh,” she stumbled over the words. Realization dawned on him – Of course she would be staying in a hotel with Harry. “I-”

“Gotcha,” he interjected, sparing her the need to articulate the unspoken details. The ambient sounds of the night heightened the tension, the brief pause heavy with unspoken sentiments. A distant laugh, the muted beat of music, and the cool breeze carried a collective weight.

“YN?” Harry's voice echoed once more, a reminder of the reality waiting inside.

“I’m coming!” she shouted back. She turned her attention back to Jake, “So…” she said, “I’ll see you soon?” He nodded in response and she retraced her steps toward the illuminated entrance.

She stopped in the doorframe. “Jakey?” she called once more, her hesitancy palpable as he turned to face her again, “Take care, okay?”

He smiled. “You too,” he replied as she disappeared through the door, leaving him in the embrace of the quiet night, his thoughts as contemplative as the stars overhead.

Next Track: Style

Masterlist

Hope you liked it! Once again, I am begging you all to interact and leave comments it makes me so happy to get feedback and reactions xxx

Also, this is only the beginning lol. I have a billion drafts for other chapters so stay tuned, peaceful army.

Taglist

@aintthatapity

@sinarainbows

@vanfleeter 

[coyotestarcraft]

I’d Sacrifice Myself For You Dorks Any Day (Part 2)

Good Omens Imagines

A/N: Sorry it took a while, but it’s finally done! It’s extra long because why not?

Warnings: Cussing, Blood, Injuries, panic attack.

Part 1

——————————

After being discharged from the hospital, you went home to recover.

“Easy love, the couch isn’t going anywhere.” Crowley chuckled at how fast you wanted to go inside and rest.

“He’s right.” The angel smiles.

“Sorry, I just wanna sleep.” Your eyes are drooping already and the boys are concerned you might not make to Crowley’s flat, so instead the demon picks you carrying you all the way up so you don’t hurt yourself.

“Baby goat, you gotta take your medicine before you sleep.” Crowley said, you groaned but took it anyway when it was handed to you.

“Sleep well my love.” Aziraphale softly kissed your cheek as sleep took over.

*Dream*

Shax had come to kill you for meddling with Aziraphale and Crowley.

But you weren’t going to let her just take them away without a fight, the boys tried telling you not to fight her but in the end it wouldn’t matter, your temper was off the charts to be stopped now.

*After Fighting (cause I’m too lazy to write it, sorry)*

You stood on wobbly legs, facing Shax as she stood in front of you with her hands covered in your own blood.

Your face was covered in blood from when she slashed your eye leaving three angry marks dripping in blood, as many cuts and bruises littered your body as well.

“You foolish human, you’ll never amount to anything ever, your just a waste of space.” She snarled with a smirk breaking out on her face.

“FUCK YOU!” You screamed.

She gave you one last chance to surrender but you weren’t losing anyone else, in a desperate attempt to save the boys you lunged at Shax, knocking her off the bridge into the water for her to rot.

The last you heard before passing out “Y/N! Hold on love we’re coming!”

“y/n…” a voice called from somewhere unknown.

“Y/n…”

“Y/N love wake up!” Azira’s voice finally filtered through just enough to startle you awake.

You shot up from your spot on the couch, a loud gasp erupted from you, soon deep, fast breaths left you, a panic attack was happening.

“My love, look at me, it’s okay, your safe.” Aziraphale tried to hug you but it only made you panic more, you flinched at the thought of even being close to anyone.

“Sweetheart, I know your scared, it’s okay, take some deep breaths for me.” Crowley was never this soft, not even with Aziraphale but in the current moment he didn’t care, all he wanted was for you to feel safe and loved.

“I-I c-can’t! I-I cant b-breathe!” You whimper out unable to take in any air, 10 seconds passed until your throat finally starts to open, you gasp for air as you accidentally squeeze your wrists too tight.

“I’m taking your hands so you don’t hurt yourself okay?” Crowley says, you give a shaky nod, slowly taking in air.

“Your doing amazing love, take some more deep slow breaths for me.” The angel smiled, his hand gently moving up and down your back soothingly.

You leaned forward to put your head in the crook of Crowley’s neck, you hiccup as you start to calm down, “there you go baby, we’ve got you.” He cooed.

A few minutes passed when they both heard soft snores coming from you.

Crowley gently layed you down on the couch, covering you back up with the blanket you were snuggling with. “Sleep love, we’re here and we aren’t leaving.” Aziraphale cooed as he kissed your temple.

You slept peacefully with your head in Crowley’s lap, he eventually moved you to be more comfortable so he could help Aziraphale cook dinner.

————

A soft hand carded through your hair as you slept.

Crowley cooed until you started to wake up making the cutest noises he’s ever heard, course he’d never admit it out loud.

“There’s my sweetheart, it’s dinner time love.” He smiled as you peeled open your eyes letting out a small yawn.

“What’s cooking?” You asked as you threw the blanket off you and stretched.

“Chicken Parmesan with a salad.” The angel responded from the kitchen.

“Sounds good, I’m so hungry.” You smile as Aziraphale sets a plate down in front of you.

You take a bite and instantly melt in your seat, it’s been at least a week since you had a real home cooked meal. “It’s good I assume?” The angel smiles.

“Mhm, very good, thank you for dinner.” You smile back at your angel, he came over to kiss your cheek lovingly before digging into his own plate.

A while later you are snuggled between the boys watching a movie.

Soon after you fell asleep, Aziraphale carried you to bed with Crowley close behind.

They both tucked you into bed as snug as a bug in a rug.

“Goodnight my love.” Aziraphale kissed your forehead before wishing Crowley goodnight.

“G’ night sweetheart, night angel.” The demon responded back as both celestial beings let their wings out to wrap around you.

Recovery was always comfortable if it meant two celestial beings were by your side.

————

Thank you for reading!

If you have any requests you want me to write feel free to send them in. I want to try NSFW requests so feel free to send those too.

[slxsherwriter]

Home for the Holidays

Fandom: MacGyver

Pairing: Tim Wexler/reader, Tim Wexler & reader

Word count: 6,471

Warnings: Difficult family relationships, two separate endings, faking dating trope

Author's note: Does this really fit here? No. But I say it does because it's an Englund character. Super niche, but that's never stopped me before. I hope everyone who decides to read enjoys it. Special thanks to the wonderful @tinalbion for all the help with this one, from reading it to helping me figure out the ending(s). This ended up taking on a life of its own and was far longer than intended. Cruddy gif below is my own.

Tagging: @slashingdisneypasta

The holidays were a dreaded time of year. What should have been an enjoyable time with family was an utter nightmare for you. You loved your family, you really did. But the judgment and the nitpicking drove you up a wall. Without fail, there was always a bombardment of questions about your love life and when you were going to settle down. Sure, most of the time it came from a place of good intention but the constant push on the subject made you want to pull your hair out and it was enough to make you feel nauseous at just the mention of the holidays. As always, this year, you planned on grinning and bearing it to the best of your ability.

“You don't get it, Tim,” you complained to your long-time friend. “It's never ending for the entire length of the holidays. From every. Single. Member of my family. You would think a simple response back would be enough. But no. They aren't ever satisfied with the reply that I haven't found the right person yet. No, you would think that is the end of the world.” Tim gave a sympathetic smile, pushing around the rest of his lunch. It wasn't like you didn't know that he was less than fond of the holiday season as well. You closed your eyes and let out a small huff, an apology followed closely after.

“It's okay.” Always easy going and understanding. That was Tim. He had been that way right off the bat during your first meeting in college. “I know it's rough for you, and I know you know it's rough for me. Would rather have you get it out here so you can concentrate at work.”

“Sometimes, I think it would be nice if we could just skip over that time of the year entirely. Not like there aren't plenty of others who hated it just as much.” He chuckled softly.

“Yeah, well, we know that's never going to happen. So, we just have to suck it up and deal with the most wonderful time of year, every year, for the rest of our lives.” You flicked one of the remaining beans from your salad in his direction, as the comment finally brought a smile to your face.

“One of these years, we should say fuck it and just stay home. Me and you. Screw expectations and the rest of the world.” Something that neither of you would ever do, but occasionally, it was nice to dream about it.

“I would be afraid of your mother hunting us down.” He had a valid point. It went without a doubt that your mother would hunt the both of you down and ream you out into the next year. The woman could be outright terrifying when she wanted to be. Nothing would set her off more than missing the holidays. Especially if it would be for unjust reasons in her eyes.

“You're right. As always,” you teased after a second. “Guess that plan is outta the window. We’ll have to come up with something else.” That final thought closed out your lunch as work demanded that you return to your duties. The discussion was tabled for now.

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

The thought came around a whole hell of a lot sooner than you had hoped. After a phone call with your mother, you felt desperate.

It wasn't what you wanted to do, but with little choice, it seemed like the best idea that you could have created. It all hinged on what Tim thought, though, and that wasn't anything you felt you could anticipate. All you could really do was hope that he felt like it was a decent enough idea that would get both of your families off of your backs.

“So,” you started casually, not able to bring yourself to look at him just yet. Things could be made a little awkward. Sure, you had known each other for years. Tim was your best friend and life without him? Well, it was unthinkable.

“Oh, boy. That's never a good start to any conversation.”

“No, no. It's nothing bad or nothing like that.” Your eyes shot up to him in a near panic. Your anxiety about the conversation to come made you overreact just slightly. Tim's smile fell just a bit.

“Hey, it's okay. Take a breath.” Right. The function necessary for living. You let out a sigh and rubbed your face.

“I'm sorry. I had a call with my mother last night and spent the whole night worrying about heading home next week.”

“That bad already? She wasted no time this year, huh?”

“God, no.” You slouched a bit and braced your head in your hands, elbows resting against the counter. “Painful. It was absolutely painful, Tim. I would have rather had teeth pulled.” There was a moment of quiet. Really, what was there to say to that anyway? You managed to pull your head out of your hands and refocus back on Tim.

“Kept me up most of the night, honestly. Spent it trying to think of anything that could get me out of it but came up with nothing. So, I realized I had to change how I was approaching the problem. Instead of removing myself from the situation, I need to change how I'm putting myself in said situation. There were a few scenarios I came up with, all a little worse than the next. Unfortunately.” A pause as you shifted and crossed your arms over your chest, keeping your gaze on the man. “The best I came up with? Bring someone home with me.” His brow rose in surprise.

“Just how do you expect to do that? Are you seeing someone I don't know about?”

“No, there isn't anyone that I'm seeing.” You rolled your eyes. “But if my parents think I am, then my mother would at least get off my back, and maybe my entire family would focus on someone or something else entirely. Some peace would be a miracle and worth it.”

“It might just work. If you could make it believable enough.” He hummed as he thought about the idea you presented. Which was a good thing given what was coming next.

“You think so?” There was a noncommittal sound. Close enough. “The problem is, I don't want to bring home some random person. Would rather have someone I trust, ya know? Make it easier to figure out the whole thing. That being said, how would you feel about coming home with me for the holidays? Escape your family for a bit and get some good homemade food.” The last bit came out in a rush, the words almost blending together. Your eyes slipped from Tim, almost not wanting to see his reaction. The man across from you was the only one that you could remotely begin to trust with something like this. If he said no, it was just going to be another miserable holiday season. You waited on baited breath, unsure what his response would actually be. There were plenty of accurate predictions that you could have made when it came to how he would answer most things. This? It was far out of the realm of anything previously thought possible that you couldn't even begin to venture a guess.

“You're asking me to come home with you on the holidays and pretend to be your boyfriend?”

“I know it's a lot to…”

“You think it would work?” He cut you off before you had the chance to finish your statement. It wasn't an outright refusal. That still left you unsure what the hell was on his mind about the whole thing.

“There really isn't anyone else that I would trust more for something like this.” For a second, just the briefest of seconds, you swore you saw a blush on his cheeks. When you blinked, it was gone.

“It definitely beats dealing with what I'm gonna hear at home. So, why not? If you think we can pull this off, let's do it. Might be fun anyway.” The two of you hadn't really done anything crazy in college like some of your friends had. Playing it safe had practically been built into your DNA. When Tim had agreed, it was like a giant weight had been lifted off your chest and your shoulders.

“God, I owe you. Majorly. Like I can't even begin to pay you back for this.”

“You're getting me away from my house. We'll call It even.” Hardly the case, but you weren't about to argue with him. He might second think the entire decision. Which would be utterly disastrous. And that wasn't an over exaggeration.

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

The flight home hadn't been terrible. There was only a three hour delay. Something that you hadn't complained about even if being stuck in an airport was not anyone's idea of fun. It just meant three fewer hours you had to deal with at home.

You and Tim had hashed out the details. It had been surprisingly easy. With your long standing friendship, you both were able to toss out ideas and concoct the story that would be shared with your family. A lot of it was based in fact, something that made it that much easier to remember and be able to spout off with a confidence and genuine nature that would force your family to believe you.

Pulling up to your childhood home, the sense of dread that normally accompanied this time of the year had been significantly lessened due to the presence of the man beside you.

“You ready?” His voice broke you out of the staring contest you had been having with the house. There were already a load of cars present. Tim would have no easing into this.

“As ready as I'll ever be. Are you?”

“I'd like to think so.” Another wave of gratitude and appreciation for the man washed over you. No one could have asked for a better friend.

“All right. Let's do this.” You hoped that if it got to be too much, he would tell you. No backup plan had been created, but you could think well enough on the fly and would sort it out. Your mother was already at the door as the two of you exited the car, and despite having plotted it all out, the way that his fingers laced with yours caught you by surprise. The gentle squeeze had been as equally as unexpected, but the message was clear. Calm down. How he was so calm right then was beyond you. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest.

“Hi mom.” A moment of thought that this wasn't the best of ideas. She hadn't given any sort of indication about Tim. Of course, she had met the man before. It was hard to be friends with him throughout college and not at some point have an introduction.

“Hey, sweetie. And hello, Tim.” Relief. You felt relief as she smiled and greeted both of you. That was the first obstacle to get over. Now, there were just several more to go before you were both back on a plane and heading back west. “I'm so glad you both could make it our here. Your family didn't mind, Tim?”

“It was a bit of a negotiation but we managed.” The lie rolled off smoothly and your mother bought it. The questioning slowed, beyond the typical asking how everything was going and what was new. Thankfully, given the fact that you both worked at the plant, it made it relatively quick to go through the list and be given some peace to settle In before dinner at the least.

“So far, so good.” Tim wasn't wrong in the assessment.

“Yeah, I would say that we have them all fairly convinced.” No real hardball questions had come your way, nor had there been any sort of awkward or uncomfortable situation. You weren't foolish enough to think either of you would make it through this unscathed. “Then again, that was all the basic, fairly easy stuff.”

“You have a point.” He sat down on the bed that you were supposed to be sharing. That part of this entire scheme had not been something that either of you had thought about, and now it crept slowly along the edges of the room. Once. You had shared a bed once before, back in the early years of college. It had been out of sheer necessity. “You know, if it's easier for you. I can sleep on the floor. I know we've technically shared a bed before…” A memory that had clearly pulled forward for him, too.

“It's fine, Tim. I'm not making you sleep on the floor while we are here. I think we can both handle it.” Just another reason to have brought someone that you could trust. “Besides, we both know that if she walks in here and finds you on the floor, she is going to throw a fit and realize that this is all a giant ruse. And that is something that neither of us wants to deal with.” It might be a little awkward the first night, but you were both adults. You could handle it. He gave a nod and a look, the one that told you that he agreed with what you had said. The wrath of your mother was bad enough. Lord only knew how the rest of your family would react to you trying to fool them. That had been a thought you briefly entertained when you had thought up this entire scheme, but It wasn't anything that you had wanted to give a lot of thought. It had to work out. Otherwise, you might never be able to attend another family holiday.

“What's next up then?”

“Dinner,” you offered as you glanced at your watch. “In about two hours. Meaning we have a little time to kill before being put under the microscope again.” Tim rubbed his hands against his pants before he gave his knees a tap and stood up.

“It's not quite cold enough to be stuck inside. Why don't we take a walk? Get out of the house and go over anything you want to triple check?” That was a wonderful idea. How you would survive this without this man was beyond you.

“Yeah, that's a great idea.” You grabbed your coat as he pulled his on. Outside, a little privacy could be afforded. No one to walk in on the two of you. One last chance to smooth out any wrinkles in how you would respond to your family. “Thank you, Tim.”

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

A few days passed and the routine became easier and easier to fall into as you both found sure footing. Your family bought the story and the act that you and Tim put on, without too much questioning. That easy level of friendship that you had was the basis and made the fake relationship incredibly believable to those around you.

It was all going too smoothly. There had to be a bump in the road eventually. And it came in the form of your sister prodding at Tim. The sort of way that immediately had your defenses bristling. The sort of prodding and underhanded comments that should have been left behind in middle school. You knew that you had both grown some thicker skin since school, college included, but that didn't mean that it didn't bother you at all. You felt even more indignant about it all since you were the one who requested that he come. He was here, helping you. Your sister prodding and needling about him and you needing to find someone better wasn't going to stand. Even if you weren't really together.

“That's enough.” Finally, you had enough of hearing it. Tim had been quiet the entire time, not defending himself or saying much. Likely, he did not want to cause a problem. Your sister paused, caught off guard by the outburst. As was the rest of the table, conversation fell utterly silent. Great. You hated all attention on you, but there wasn't anything to be done about it now. You swallowed down the worry that welled up and threatened to rob you of the next statement. “You're entitled to think whatever you want, but I won't sit here and listen to you bad mouth Tim.” The words were forceful, more than you ever typically were with anyone.

“I just don't get it. Supposed you've been friends since college. Why get together now? It doesn't seem right. And besides, it's not like you've improved yourself with him.” Your fingers curled into the material of your pants, as you tried your hardest not to lose it entirely.

“Well, maybe that's just the basis of a good relationship. But, you wouldn't know that would you. Just because I don't go through guys like water and have something solid to go off of doesn't mean it's pointless or not real. And why should it matter what he does? He's been my best friend for years and knows me better than anyone. Can treat me better than anyone. And is by far, worlds and leagues smartest than any of those rich assholes you've brought home. He's a nuclear physicist for Christ's sake. I couldn't ask for better.” You tossed your napkin onto your plate, done with dinner. Unable to really eat another bite. No one stopped you as you excused yourself from the table and all but hurried out the front door. The cooler air was welcomed. Settling. The perfect escape from the heat that had become stifling.

Taking a seat by the front door on the porch was out of question. Too close. There was too much risk of someone coming out and saying something. The best option that presented itself was to take a quick walk and hope that it cooled you down.

Ten minutes passed. And that agitation remained. The quiet didn't last, though. The gentle call of your name caught your attention. It was Tim. A rush of embarrassment threatened to overtake the agitation. But out of everyone in the house, he was the only person you would have wanted to find you.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go off like that and cause a scene.” Before you could say anything else or move away from where you were standing, Tim grabbed you by the arms. The words that had been threatening to fall from you were stopped dead on the tip of your tongue.

“There isn't anything you need to be sorry for,” he started, with a squeeze delivered to make sure you couldn't escape. And maybe give a little comfort. “You didn't have to stand up for me like that. I know it's going to cause some problems with you and your sister.” You shook your head immediately.

“Of course I did, Tim. I wasn't going to let her talk about you like that.”

“I mean, she wasn't exactly wrong…”

“Don't you dare start on that.” A rueful smile came, his brow slightly pinched. The sort of expression that always came when there was doubt about himself. One you had seen and knew well. “I mean it, Tim. Screw what anyone else says. You're kind, thoughtful, hard working. Intelligent, obviously. I mean, nuclear physicist and all. But those first traits are important. They make you a good man. Look what you are doing for me now. I don't know anyone else who would have done something like this. And there wouldn't be anyone I could trust more with it. I don't know where I would be without you and all you've done for me.” His touch softened against your arms, and his eyes dropped from your face. Almost like he continued to doubt what you had told him. Insecurity was something you could understand well enough, having a boatload of your own.

Instead of saying anything else, you pulled him into a tight hug. After a moment of hesitation, his arms wrapped around you. Standing out in the cool, wrapped up in each other like you were, that agitation continued to die down. The hug lasted a little longer than intended. When you pulled back, you made sure to give a smile. One that felt far more genuine than forced.

“Why don't we ditch the idea of heading back inside? Me, you, some pizza, and that new Star Trek movie?” Frankly, the idea sounded a hell of a lot better than going back inside and seeing your family. Tim laughed at the plan that you laid out, and the smile that stretched across his face finally matched your own.

“Now, that's an idea I can get behind. Come on.” His arm stayed around your shoulders as you headed back to get the rental car. The consequences could be dealt with later. Some time that felt more normal between the two of you was called for, and it would help ease whatever tensions might remain. There were still a few days that you needed to get through, and it would be best to try and manage it when you felt on more level ground. You leaned into the man beside you a little more, and finally felt like everything would be okay once more.

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

The night out had been exactly what you both needed for a reset. You both felt better on the drive back to the house, able to settle in and not worry about whatever the fallout would be from the outburst earlier. As anticipated, your mother wasn't happy, ready to chew you out for leaving like you had, but you managed to push it off with a few placating words and lies. There wasn't a chance in Hell that you would be apologizing to your sister for what you had said, knowing that she wouldn't for hers. Besides, you meant what you said. An empty apology would be symbolic, sure, but you didn't even feel like forcing that. Not when she had insulted Tim the way that she had and meant it herself.

It made things a little tense and uncomfortable in the house, but you stuck to your guns over it. Which was fine by you. It meant that you and Tim had a little more peace. There were fewer pestering questions and the sort of focus that made you a little worried that they would see through the charade that you had fooled them with so far. Fine by the both of you, really.

Lazy walks in the colder weather, movies both in your old room and in the living room when no one bothered with the area, and some quiet reading. Or not so quiet reading. An activity that came as a surprise enjoyment just after college. Reading duties would be traded back and forth, one of you listening while the other read aloud. It didn't matter what it was. While you and Tim spent a lot of time together in general, the close corridors meant more than typical. Tim seemed to enjoy the time, relaxed in a way that you hadn't seen in a while. It was nice.

With a few exceptions, it was actually a nice little break from the usual routine that you had fallen into with work and the usual drum of life. In a way that neither of you had realized was needed.

The gift exchange had snuck up before you knew it. The family? They were easy. Typically, everyone was fairly routine each and every year. Not that you did the exact same thing, but they liked what they liked, and it left it almost an automatic purchase. Tim? Tim was a little different this year. He had come here for you, and you knew that he was going to have to deal with things that he shouldn't have had to just because he was there with you. It had to be something with a little more meaning, something that showed your appreciation for his friendship and what he had done for you. Without being too much, of course. That was a fine balancing act.

You were a little nervous about it all. A few practical gifts that you knew he would appreciate. Small things. A new lab coat pocket protector, this cool new little handheld Geiger counter that he could keep on himself, a funny mug for coffee. The bigger one that you had to go searching for? A signed copy of Feynman's lectures. You had heard him mention it once, just once, while you had been shifting through a used bookstore together. Along with it? A copy of a magazine signed by Einstein himself. It had cost you a pretty penny. Both things. But entirely worth it. Hopefully. The nerves were causing you to feel entirely uneasy. Far more than you ever had since the two of you decided to exchange gifts yearly. How was it different? You couldn't pinpoint it for sure, but even on a subconscious level, you knew it was the case.

Sitting in the living room, most of your family had wandered off. Which was just fine by you. It wasn't like they had a genuine interest, and at this point, everyone was still upset at you for spouting off at your sister. So be it. It meant that if you were wrong with the choices, no one could be there to mock you about it.

“So, I know we typically only do one thing. But with what you agree to do this year and what I knew you would have to put up with here, I felt like I needed to do a little more. Hope you don't mind.”

“You didn't…”

“I did, Tim. Just because you aren't fond of heading home yourself doesn't mean that you had to suffer through all of this. Besides, I wanted to.” The response was a soft laughing sound from him as he held up his hands in defeat. It wasn't an argument that he was going to win. It caused a smile, more genuine and more confident. You felt a bit better about it all now.

“Here,” you offered as you shoved the first two packages in his direction. The practical and fun gifts went over well. Not surprisingly. Those hadn't been the ones that you had been worried about. It was the next two. You knew which was which and hadn't been sure if you gave him the books or the magazine first. In the end, it was the magazine.

The look on his face was priceless. Entirely unexpected, caught completely off guard. You were thrilled with the fact as he stared at it.

“This is…” The words died, and he shook his head. The silence extended for a few moments before he finally managed to speak. “Wow. This is amazing.”

“Authenticated and everything. There's one more before you get too wrapped up.” You moved the heavy package over the table in his direction.

“You really…”

“Don't say it. Just open it,” you offered with a laugh. He rolled his eyes and reluctantly set aside the magazine before he reached for the other package. Nerves heightened for just a moment and the inside of your cheek suffered for it as your teeth bit down hard over and over.

“Where did you find this?” It went over better than the magazine.

“It took asking the right questions to the right people but that isn't important.”

“It's signed?”

“Yep.” He held it as if it was gold, and all those nerves that you had built up finally settled. Before you could say anything else, you were caught off guard by Tim leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. Spontaneous and something that couldn't have been anticipated. It was soft and quick, and when he pulled back, red tinged his cheeks. No one was here to witness it. It wasn't for show. He cleared his throat a little bit and pulled out two packages for you.

“Uh, here.” Both of the boxes were smaller. “Feel like I should have gotten you something more now but…”

“Shush, it's fine. This is more than enough.” The first one ended up being a beautiful gold watch. Yours had been accidentally destroyed over the summer, and you hadn't bothered replacing it yet. A long moment passed before you realized that you were holding a Rolex. It seemed that you weren't the only one that had spent more money than you probably should have for the season. “Tim, this is beautiful.” He urged you to try it on, and there wasn't any reason not to. It fit perfectly against your wrist, and you glanced up just in time to see the soft smile that crossed his face.

“Wasn't sure about the fit. Glad to see I got it right.”

“I love it.” It would go perfectly with anything that you wore to work and hopefully, you wouldn't do anything to ruin this one. Though it would be more sturdy than the last one.

“There's still one more.”

“All right. No need to be impatient.” The tease rolled easily, the kiss still lingering in the back of your mind. Neither of you seemed to want to bring it up yet, though. There was no need to make things awkward just yet. You found a piece of jewelry in the second box. A small strip of metal among a delicate chain.

“It's a piece of the IRS.” He grinned outright as he watched the way that your eyes widened at the mention of what it was.

“Are you serious?” He nodded, pleased with himself as he sat a little more straight.

“Yeah. I mean perfectly safe of course but directly from CERN. And, no, I'm not going to tell you how I got it.” He had anticipated your next question before it could even be thought of. Your stomach flipped and it felt like your heart might just beat right out of your chest.

“Mind helping me put it on?” He nodded and gave a little motion for you to turn before he reached for the necklace. You shifted and made sure that he was able to see what he needed to do, head tipped a little bit. The weight settled against your throat but it was comfortable. Fingers brushed over the small piece, your mind racing. His fingers lingered on the back of your neck, brushing down to your back slowly. Almost a sense of hesitation.

It was enough of a jolt to you that you turned and before any thought could be given to any action, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. Fundamentally, it changed everything but things had been subtly shifting since your arrival. Things that hadn't been acknowledged or even really thought about. But they had been there. This was the culmination of it all. When you had made that statement to your sister, acknowledging that there couldn't have been anyone better, it hadn't been initially meant in a romantic sense on your part even though that was what you had wanted them to believe. It had been there though, even then, and it had only grown and shifted, twisted in ways that you couldn't anticipate.

Breaking from the kiss, the two of you were silent. A struggle to figure out what to say ensued. After another few seconds, you started to laugh softly. Unable to help it. He soon followed, and the mingled laughter rang out.

“Okay, so who is going to end up winning the bet?”

“Charlie. Without a doubt.”

“Ahh, shoulda probably have known that one.” The smiles remained. His arm found your shoulders as you resituated yourself on the couch beside him. Comfortable. It wasn't as awkward as there had been worried about. No, it was almost as natural as any other moment of your relationship had been. “We aren't going to hear the end of it.”

“No, no we are not.” It would be worth some teasing and I told you so’s by your coworkers. Even if it was a tad embarrassing, it wasn't like you were going to change a moment of it. His lips pressed to your temple softly, the affection flowing freely and easily. “This might be the best holiday I've ever had.” You couldn't help but grin at his declaration.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can argue. Best holiday I've ever had.”

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

BONUS: Platonic ending

“It's signed?”

“Yep.” He held it as if it was gold, and all those nerves that you had built up finally settled. You should have known better than to be worried about it. Tim would have appreciated a box from you. He had always been that way.

“I can't believe you managed to find this. Thank you.” He had barely been able to tear his eyes from the books in hand. Just another, sure, sign that you had managed to get it all right. There was no real compulsion to break the silence or the reverie he seemed to be in. It took a few moments before the spell broke. Like it would be anything that you would complain about. You got the same way after all. It was part of the reason that you two go along so well. He cleared his throat a little bit and pulled out two packages for you.

“Uh, here.” Both of the boxes were smaller. “Feel like I should have gotten you something more now but…”

“Shush, it's fine. This is more than enough.” The first one ended up being a beautiful gold watch. Yours had been accidentally destroyed over the summer, and you hadn't bothered replacing it yet. A long moment passed before you realized that you were holding a Rolex. It seemed that you weren't the only one that had spent more money than you probably should have for the season. “Tim, this is beautiful.” He urged you to try it on, and there wasn't any reason not to. It fit perfectly against your wrist, and you glanced up just in time to see the soft smile that crossed his face.

“Wasn't sure about the fit. Glad to see I got it right.”

“I love it.” It would go perfectly with anything that you wore to work and hopefully, you wouldn't do anything to ruin this one. Though it would be more sturdy than the last one.

“There's still one more.”

“All right. No need to be impatient.” The tease rolled easily. Despite everything, all the fake bullshit that you had to spew for your family and the closer than usual affection and contact, nothing in that strong bond between the two of you had really changed. It felt like a testament to the work that you had both put into the foundation of your relationship. Proof that such a strong platonic bone could exist. No matter what your coworkers and lord knew how many others had said. You found a piece of jewelry in the second box. A small strip of metal among a delicate chain.

“It's a piece of the IRS.” He grinned outright as he watched the way that your eyes widened at the mention of what it was.

“Are you serious?” He nodded, pleased with himself as he sat a little more straight.

“Yeah. I mean, perfectly safe, of course, but directly from CERN. And, no, I'm not going to tell you how I got it.” He had anticipated your next question before it could even be thought of. Your stomach flipped, and it felt like your heart might just beat right out of your chest.

“Mind helping me put it on?” He nodded and gave a little motion for you to turn before he reached for the necklace. You shifted and made sure that he was able to see what he needed to do, head tipped a little bit. The weight settled against your throat but it was comfortable. Fingers brushed over the small piece, unable to keep yourself from smiling. Your own little piece of history. He had hit the nail on the head incredibly well. Not that he often missed.

“It's absolutely perfect, Tim. I'm blown away.” You could hear the grin in the words, not even needing to see his face.

“Gotta say, I gave myself a bit of a pat on the back with that one. Didn't think you would be expecting it. And there wasn't a chance that anyone was getting you anything similar.” There wasn't a lie there. You didn't think that anyone thought even somewhat close to the same realm. It was more than you could have asked for and beyond anything anticipated.

“You may have just won it this year.”

“I don't know about that. These both,” he offered and motioned towards the magazine and books. “I'm thoroughly impressed. Didn't think I would ever own anything signed by Einstein, and I really thought it would be years before I would be able to find the Feynman lectures. And signed? Wouldn't have dreamed that.” All those nerves for nothing. You should have known better. You both settled back into the couch, his arm haphazardly thrown over your shoulders.

“Okay, so who is going to end up winning the bet?”

“Charlie. Without a doubt.”

“Ahh, shoulda probably have known that one.” The smiles remained. It wasn't a secret that there was an office pool surrounding the idea of if you and Tim would end up together. Particularly, the guards. When word had gotten out that he was spending the holidays with you and your family? Pandemonium. Complete and utter pandemonium. To the point that it had been wholly amusing to the both of you. “You know, they probably aren't going to believe it anyway.”

“Yeah, I know. We could end up having a little fun at their expense.”

“God, that could turn into a shit show, but it's so tempting.” The laughter that filled the room was genuine and full. As easy as it was when it was just the two of you alone.

“Right again. Unfortunately. It's probably not worth the headache. As amusing as it would be.” He hummed as if seriously contemplating it before sighing out an agreement.

“Can't have them all, I guess.” There was a comfortable silence that fell over the room. One that there wasn't any need to break right away. The entire thing could not have gone better. Your family believed it. They were off your backs, and for the most part, Tim had seemed to enjoy himself. There was no better pick than the man beside you. No better friend.

“This might be the best holiday I've ever had.” You couldn't help but grin at his declaration.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can argue. Best holiday I've ever had.”

[timesorceror]

Inktober Dreamling [Day 21 – Black Cat]

I think the original vision for this was going to be Cat Dream seducing Wolf Hob, but I forgot about the wolf tail in the initial sketch and so it became more of a 'Dream stole Desire's cat look for a fun night with Hob and also Hob just has a wolf ear headband' 😆

Anyway, here's the tasty word salad that I came up with to accompany the drawing.

"Oh this is… an inspired look," Hob chuckles as Dream saunters up to Hob where he manifests in the Dreaming.

Dream is dressed in what appears to be a skin-tight black spandex bodysuit and arm sleeves, complete with a cat ear headband and… an actual tail? Hob gives it a look and then glances back up at Dream's cool gaze and smug little smile.

"I may have… borrowed it," Dream huffs and trails a finger along the ridge of Hob's collarbones. "But I made some… alterations. And I have. Claimed it as my own."

Hob smiles and slides a hand around Dream's waist to rest at the small of his back.

"Well as long as you're happy with it," Hob cheerfully responds, and very visibly looks Dream up and down before he allows his smile to bloom into a wide grin. "And if you're happy with it, then I'm more than happy with it, duck. Or is it kitten, tonight?"

Dream's eyes flash from human blue to black and starry, before finally settling on a pair of bright blue cat's eyes that eye him hungrily.

"Oh," Dream breathes headily, "in a few moments it won't matter what you call me, as you'll be too busy trying to remember what words are."

Hob swallowed audibly, but that was all the time he had to react to that statement before Dream's serene expression grew hungry and feral, and Hob was falling backwards into darkness.