#i always like picking up songs from others
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theetherealbloom ¡ 3 days ago
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Don't Stop Talking To Me, And Maybe Stay Here Forever
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Summary: You join Pedro Pascal in Morocco while he’s filming Gladiator 2. Between the beauty of the Moroccan landscape, the two of you share intimate moments, from quiet rooftop dinners to playful photo-taking and teasing with the cast.
Or… “I'll hold you, I'll know you. I'll never leave out the back door. And I'd love to complete you, hope you get all you could ask for.”
I just read your latest pedro fic it was the BEST DAMN THING i’ve ever read, my heart is going to burst out of my chest from all the butterflies 🦋🫠❤️ will you write more for pedro? perhaps his gf could visit him in marocco or something while he’s filming gladiator and to meet everyone from set and maybe have some alone quality time? :3 just a suggestion 😌 anyways have a lovely dayyy ^^ — anon
Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader
Warnings: Established Relationship, Age-Gap(ish), TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Cuddling, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Social Media, Embarrassment, Teasing, Shower, Slight Nudity, Make Out Session, Celebrities
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: Okay, so, we’ve all seen the photo dumps!??!! Yes! GREAT! I haven’t watched Gladiator 2 cause it isn’t out yet in my country, so there’ll be no spoilers here mhmhmhmhm. I’m just gonna make stuff up based on the pictures Pedro posted on his Instagram lol. And again, this is all made-up, fictional, self-indulgent vibes so pls no one come after me ahhhhhh T^T
Also lowkey, I can see multiple parts to this so… stay tuned.
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Songs: Packing It Up by Gracie Abrams, this is how you fall in love by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler
gif by @a7estrellas
→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist |
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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — DAY
The warm Moroccan breeze kissed your skin as you stepped onto the bustling set of Gladiator 2. Pedro’s laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, his distinct voice easy to pick out over the hum of activity. Your heart swelled just hearing it. He was always magnetic, but here—working, immersed in a world of creativity and camaraderie—he was luminous.  
You adjusted your sunglasses, feeling both excited and slightly anxious. Meeting Pedro’s castmates felt like stepping into his other life, one where you weren’t the center of his world but a welcome visitor orbiting it. He’d reassured you endlessly. “They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not?” But still, nerves lingered.  
“Mi amor!” Pedro’s voice cut through your thoughts. He emerged from behind a cluster of tents, his smile so wide it could eclipse the Moroccan sun.  
“Hey, stranger.” You grinned, letting him sweep you into a tight hug.  
He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms still firmly around your waist. “You made it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple.  
“Of course, I made it,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I missed you too much to stay away.”  
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The day unfolded in bursts of joy.  
Pedro introduced you to Coco Ullrich, Paul Mescal, and the rest of the cast. Everyone was warm and welcoming, their teasing camaraderie quickly drawing you in. Pedro stayed close, his hand finding yours at every opportunity, like he couldn’t stand to be too far away.  
Later, you found yourself perched on a stool in the makeup trailer, Pedro sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. “Hold still,” you said, trying to fix his disheveled hair.  
Coco stood nearby, laughing as Pedro playfully swatted at your hands. “I’m serious, guapo! You’ll go out there looking like you just rolled out of bed.”  
“Maybe I did roll out of bed,” he quipped, grinning.  
You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t, but if you keep squirming, I’m going to make sure you look like it.”  
Coco shook her head, still laughing. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”  
“I have my ways,” you said, giving Pedro a mock glare.  
Pedro leaned closer, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours before you could stop him.  
“Pedro!” you protested, laughing as he pulled you into a full kiss, distracting you from your task.  
“Hopeless,” Coco muttered, snapping a quick photo of the moment.  
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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — SUNSET
The Moroccan sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and rose as you, Pedro, and the cast settled onto the soft blankets laid out for an impromptu picnic. The sprawling desert seemed to stretch infinitely, its serene stillness a striking contrast to the chaotic energy of the set. A light breeze rustled through the palm trees in the distance, carrying the faint sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses.
Pedro sat behind you, his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. His fingertips absentmindedly traced small, lazy circles on your bare skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. It was a touch that grounded you, soothing and sweet, and yet it made your heart ache with affection.
“This is perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.
Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “No, you’re perfect,” he said softly, his voice laced with adoration.
You turned your head to look at him, catching the warmth in his gaze. He looked at you like you hung the very stars above, and your cheeks flushed. “Cheesy,” you teased, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.
“Honest,” he countered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. His nose nudged yours affectionately, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.
Paul Mescal, lounging nearby with a bottle of something cold in his hand, cleared his throat dramatically. “Alright, lovebirds, can you save the smoldering for the cameras? Some of us are trying to enjoy the sunset without third-wheeling your Notebook audition.”
Coco Ullrich snorted from her spot on the blanket, where she was busy assembling a makeshift charcuterie board. “Please, Paul, don’t act like you’re not taking notes for your own love scenes.”
Paul shot her a deadpan look. “What’s there to take notes on? I’m already perfect.”
“Debatable,” Coco quipped, popping a grape into her mouth and grinning.  
Pedro chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back. “Paul, don’t be jealous. You already found someone who tolerates you.”  
“Oh, I’m not jealous,” Paul said, gesturing between you and Pedro. “I’m inspired. The level of clinginess you two have achieved—it’s an art form.”  
“Clinginess?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.  
“Yes, clinginess,” Paul said, smirking. “He hasn’t let go of you since you got here. It’s like watching a koala in human form.”
Coco leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think he’d survive a day without her?”  
“Doubtful,” Paul replied, his tone grave.  
Pedro shook his head, his arms tightening around you playfully. “Let them joke,” he said into your ear, his voice a low murmur. “They’re just bitter they don’t have their partners to hold them while they complain about the heat.”  
You turned your head slightly to whisper back, “I think they’re projecting.”  
Pedro laughed, loud and unabashed, and the sound sent warmth flooding through you.  
“Alright, enough roasting Pedro,” Coco said, waving her hands. “Let’s focus on the important stuff—like this cheese board I’m absolutely nailing.”
“Coco, you put a block of cheese next to some crackers,” Paul pointed out.  
“And yet, it’s still better than anything you’ve contributed,” she shot back.
You couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to bicker, the dynamic between the cast a perfect blend of teasing and genuine affection. It felt good to be a part of this world for a little while, to see Pedro in his element and to share these small, beautiful moments with the people who meant so much to him.  
As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with deeper hues of crimson and violet, Pedro shifted slightly behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his voice meant just for you.
“I��m better than okay,” you said, turning your face to his. “This is one of those moments I’ll never forget.”
“Same,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “But mostly because you’re here.”
Paul groaned from across the blanket. “Seriously, someone hand me a bucket. I can’t handle this level of sap.”
“You’re just missing Gracie,” Coco teased, tossing a cracker at Paul with a sly grin.  
Paul caught it mid-air with a dramatic flourish. “She’s the love of my life, thank you very much. I’m thriving, just long-distance thriving.” His wide smile softened slightly, a dreamy look crossing his face.  
Pedro chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as he held you closer. “See, even Paul can be romantic. It’s not just us being disgustingly in love.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Paul said, waving him off, though the grin never left his face. “But you two are setting the bar impossibly high. Stop making the rest of us look bad.”
Coco shook her head with mock exasperation. “Let’s face it, no one can compete with Pedro’s clingy koala act.”  
“Hey, it’s not clingy if it’s mutual,” you chimed in, leaning back into Pedro’s embrace.  
“Exactly!” Pedro said, kissing the side of your neck for emphasis. “This is just... efficient affection.”  
“Efficient affection?” Coco repeated, laughing so hard she nearly knocked over the cheese board. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”
Pedro shrugged, utterly unbothered, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Don’t let them ruin this for us.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered back, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.  
The first stars began to dot the darkening sky, their glow faint but steady against the fading hues of gold and rose. The laughter of the group blended with the soothing whisper of the desert breeze, wrapping the evening in a cocoon of warmth and love.
You let out a contented sigh, your fingers intertwining with Pedro’s. These moments—filled with jokes, tenderness, and the quiet magic of a Moroccan sunset—were the kind you knew you’d carry with you forever.
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THE NEXT DAY
OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – AFTERNOON  
The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden light over the sprawling desert set. The faint hum of activity outside the large tent provided a calming backdrop as you and Pedro sat together, stealing a moment away from the chaos of production.  
Pedro’s lap had become your designated resting place, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as you leaned into him. You had been quietly chatting about the day—how stunning the desert looked on camera, how Paul had stolen one of Coco’s snacks during a break—when the warmth of the afternoon began to lull you both into sleep.  
His hand moved lazily up and down your back, the motion soothing as his voice grew quieter, more relaxed. “You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might be my favorite part of the day.”  
“Falling asleep during work?” you teased, your voice soft and playful.  
“Falling asleep with you,” he corrected, his smile audible in his words.  
It wasn’t long before exhaustion claimed you both, your head tucked under his chin and his cheek resting against your hair. The quiet hum of the tent became a comforting cocoon, and time seemed to stretch and blur.  
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The sound of muffled laughter stirred you from sleep, pulling you out of the warm haze. You blinked against the light, realizing you were still tucked into Pedro’s chest, his arms holding you close even as he began to wake.  
“Don’t move,” a familiar voice called. You turned your head to see Paul Mescal standing a few feet away, phone in hand, his grin wide and mischievous.  
Next to him, Coco Ullrich smirked as she aimed her phone at the two of you. “We’re documenting history here. You’ll thank us later.”  
Pedro stirred, squinting at them through his grogginess. “Seriously?” His voice was raspy, a mix of sleep and disbelief.  
Paul shrugged, grinning even wider as he showed Pedro the photo. “We couldn’t resist. Look at this. It’s like a promo poster for the most annoyingly sweet rom-com ever.”  
Pedro glanced at the photo, then at you, and laughed softly. “We should use that for the holiday cards this year.”  
You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “This is so embarrassing. They’re never going to let us live this down.”  
Coco laughed, flipping through her photos. “Oh, it’s way too late for that. I’m sending this to the group chat and the PR team. They’ll love it.”  
“Please don’t,” you pleaded, your voice muffled against Pedro’s shirt.  
Paul tilted his head dramatically. “Why not? It’s just a little fun. Besides, you two are giving us all cavities with how sweet you are. We’re suffering.”  
Pedro smirked, holding you a little tighter. “You’re suffering? Sounds like a personal problem.”  
“Alright, alright, enough!” A gravelly voice interrupted, and you looked up to see Ridley Scott standing at the edge of the tent. His hands were on his hips, but the amused twinkle in his eye gave him away.  
“Ridley,” you started, your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’m so sorry—”  
He held up a hand to stop you, his smirk growing. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I should thank you. Pedro’s been suspiciously well-behaved since you arrived. But,” he added with a pointed glance at Pedro, “if this keeps up, we’ll have to rename the film The Gladiator and the Muse. Production’s going to take twice as long.”  
The crew burst into laughter, and you buried your face back in Pedro’s chest, groaning. “This is officially the most embarrassing moment of my life.”  
Pedro chuckled, his hand brushing gently over your back. “Embarrassing? Nah. You’re the best thing about being here.”  
You peeked up at him, your cheeks still warm, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You mean that?”  
“Every word,” he said, his voice soft. “You make everything easier, better… you make it all worth it.”  
Your heart swelled, and a small smile broke through your embarrassment. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try to believe you.”  
“Believe me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.  
Paul groaned, breaking the tender moment. “Someone get a camera crew. We’re turning this into a reality show. Lovebirds in the Desert.”  
Pedro laughed, finally standing and pulling you to your feet. “Careful, Paul. You might not survive the sequel.”  
Ridley clapped his hands, his voice carrying over the lingering laughter. “Alright, lovebirds, enough stalling. Let’s get back to work! Pedro, we’ve got a fight scene to shoot.”  
Pedro gave you one last reassuring smile before winking. “Don’t go far. I’ll need more luck soon.”  
You nodded, watching him head back to set, and felt a sense of warmth that no amount of teasing could dampen. As you stepped out of the tent, the desert sun shining overhead, you knew this moment—this strange, beautiful mix of chaos and love—was one you’d carry with you forever.
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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – EVENING  
The rooftop restaurant was like something out of a dream. Lanterns hung delicately from wrought iron fixtures, casting warm, flickering light over the table as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was cool but pleasant, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. Below, the city of Marrakech stretched out in an intricate maze of rooftops and twinkling lights, the hum of life soft and distant.  
Pedro had arranged everything, from the secluded corner table to the small vase of your favorite flowers waiting when you arrived. He always had a way of making even the simplest moments feel like magic.  
“Look at this view,” you murmured, leaning against the wrought iron railing as the sky turned from gold to a deep, dusky pink.  
Pedro stood close behind you, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. “The view’s got nothing on you,” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice balanced by the sincerity in his eyes.  
You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to face him. “That’s a terrible line.”  
“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning as he pulled out his phone. “But it’s true. Hold still.”  
Before you could protest, he snapped a photo, catching you mid-laugh as you tried to dodge the camera. “Pedro!” you groaned, your cheeks warming.  
He chuckled, looking at the photo with a self-satisfied smile. “Perfect. Might frame this one.”  
“Stop it,” you said, trying to grab the phone from him, but he held it out of reach, his grin only widening.  
“Never,” he replied, his free hand reaching across the table to take yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and his gaze softened. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  
Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it—no teasing this time, just quiet, earnest affection.  
“Now you’re just being unfair,” you muttered, trying to hide your blush.  
Pedro leaned forward, his head tilting slightly as if to study you closer. “Not unfair. Just honest.”  
You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was pounding. In a bid to regain some ground, you grabbed your own phone and quickly snapped a picture of him just as he brought your hand to his lips. The resulting photo was unfairly good—his lashes long, the lantern light catching the gold in his eyes, the softness in his expression making your chest ache.  
“Got you,” you said triumphantly, holding up the phone.  
Pedro laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again as he met your gaze. “Now we’re even?”  
“Now we’re even,” you confirmed, though your grin gave away how smug you felt.  
The waiter arrived with dessert just then—a delicate plate of Moroccan pastries accompanied by a small bowl of honey and almonds. You both leaned forward at the same time, reaching for the same pastry, and burst into laughter when your fingers brushed.  
“Go ahead,” Pedro said, gesturing gallantly.  
“Such a gentleman,” you teased, breaking off a piece of the pastry and dipping it into the honey. You held it up to his lips, your pulse skipping when he leaned in without hesitation.  
“Delicious,” he said, his voice low and warm. “But I think it tastes better coming from you.”  
“You’re impossible,” you muttered, trying to suppress a smile as you took a bite yourself. The flaky pastry melted on your tongue, its sweetness perfectly balanced by the honey.  
As you shared the dessert, your conversation drifted from playful teasing to the little things that filled your days. Pedro told you about a funny moment on set earlier when Paul had forgotten his lines and improvised something so absurd even Ridley couldn’t stop laughing.  
“And then,” Pedro continued, his grin infectious, “he tried to blame me, saying my face was too distracting.”  
“Well, he’s not wrong,” you teased, earning a dramatic roll of Pedro’s eyes.  
“Oh, so now you’re on his side?”  
“I’m on the side of the truth,” you said, popping an almond into your mouth.  
Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  
Your smile softened, and you leaned your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “Probably still charming everyone who crosses your path.”  
“Not like this,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. He reached across the table again, his fingers lacing with yours. “You make everything better. You make me better.”  
Your throat tightened at the rawness in his voice, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling deep in your chest.  
“You do the same for me,” you said quietly.  
The soft music playing in the background faded into the hum of the city as the two of you sat there, the world narrowing to just this moment. Pedro brought your hand to his lips again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your joined hands on the table.  
As the night stretched on, the two of you continued to talk about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, the places you wanted to visit together, the little quirks you loved about each other.  
When it was time to leave, Pedro stood and extended a hand to help you up. “One last picture before we go?” he asked, his phone already in hand.  
You nodded, letting him pull you into his side. The lanterns glowed softly behind you as he kissed your cheek just as the camera clicked.  
Looking at the photo, you smiled. It was perfect—just like this night, just like him. 
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L’HÔTEL MARRAKECH, MOROCCO – EVENING
The golden hues of the evening sun had long faded, leaving the hotel suite illuminated only by the soft glow of warm, ambient lighting. Laughter filled the room, bubbling up between stolen glances and playful teasing. Pedro leaned against the edge of the plush sofa, his hand resting casually on his hip as you doubled over with giggles at another one of his overly dramatic impressions. 
“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “If anyone here is getting an Oscar for Most Entertaining Human, it’s me.”
You rolled your eyes, swatting at him lightly. “You? Entertaining? Please. You’re just lucky I think you’re cute.”
“Just cute?” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, mock-hurt murmur. He stepped closer, tilting his head. “That’s disappointing.”
And just like that, with no warning, he took your hand and spun you gently into his arms. There was no music, no sound but the faint rustle of the curtains and the muted hum of life outside your window. But to Pedro, there was no need for anything more. 
“Dance with me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, pulling you flush against him.
“Pedro,” you started to protest, but the way he was looking at you—so earnest, so unguarded—stole the words from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go. 
“You are the reason I can breathe,” he murmured. His voice cracked slightly, raw and unfiltered. “The reason I can survive.”
Your chest tightened, and your hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt as you closed your eyes. Slowly, the two of you began to sway, side to side, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this silent melody just for you.
“Pedro,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words sank deep into your soul. “You don’t have to—”
“Shh.” He cut you off gently, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “I want to. You’re my safe place.”
Together, you moved as one, the world outside forgotten. The phones were switched off, the curtains drawn, and for a moment, it felt like time had ceased to exist. All that mattered was this—his arms around you, your head resting on his chest, and the way his heartbeat felt steady and strong beneath your cheek.
“What’s easy is right,” you whispered suddenly, echoing words your mother had once said. The truth of it struck you in that moment, how being with Pedro never felt like a choice—it was instinct. Like breathing. Like coming home. 
Pedro smiled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “What’s easy is right,” he repeated softly. “Then I guess it’s easy to know... I’m going to love you forever.”
You laughed softly, though the lump in your throat made it difficult. “Forever’s a long time.”
He tilted your chin up, his warm, brown eyes crinkling at the corners with a quiet joy. “Not nearly long enough,” he said, his voice a low promise. “You’ll be my best friend until we’re old and gray. And even then, I’ll still love you.”
There was something in the way he said it—so simple, so sure—that your knees nearly gave out. But as always, Pedro was there, holding you steady, keeping you close. 
This is how you fall in love, you realized. Not in a blaze of fireworks, but in the quiet moments where you let go and they hold you up. 
“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” Pedro said after a long silence, his voice filled with wonder. “You make my stomach ache with hope. You make my hands stop shaking. I wake up smiling now, and it’s because of you.”
You bit your lip, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Pedro…”
“No, listen to me,” he insisted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Love isn’t supposed to be heavy. It’s not supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be this. Us. A safe place. A hand to hold through every storm.”
His words broke something open inside you, and you nodded, letting the tears spill over. “You’re my safe place too,” you whispered. “You make me believe I deserve this.”
Pedro pulled you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head as he swayed you gently. “You deserve everything,” he murmured. “Every laugh, every sunrise, every stupid little joke I’ll tell for the next fifty years.”
You both laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet hum of the room. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment—this love that was soft, steady, and unshakable.
Right from your hips to your cuticles, you were everything to him, and he was everything to you. Wherever you both went, it was heaven. And neither of you ever wanted to leave. 
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Steam filled the bathroom, the warmth clinging to the mirrors and wrapping around the two of you like a soft cocoon. Pedro stood under the cascade of water, droplets running down his broad shoulders and soaking his messy curls. His eyes flicked toward you, a tender smile tugging at his lips as you stepped closer, your fingers gently reaching for the shampoo bottle.  
“Turn around,” you said softly, motioning for him to face away from you.  
“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, though there was a hint of shyness in his voice as he obeyed.  
You lathered the shampoo between your hands, your touch careful and affectionate as you worked it into his hair. His curls were soft and damp beneath your fingers, the grays glinting like silver in the dim light.  
“I love your hair,” you murmured, your voice reverent.  
Pedro let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, tilting his head back slightly. “The gray makes me look old.”  
You paused, your hands stilling in his hair as you leaned around to catch his gaze. “Stop that. It doesn’t make you look old; it makes you look distinguished. And I happen to love every single one of these.” You tugged playfully at a curl for emphasis.  
He gave you a sheepish look, his lips twitching as he fought back a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”  
“Stuck with you?” you repeated, feigning outrage. “Oh, no, Pedro. I chose you—gray hair and all. And I’d choose you again. Every single day.”  
His pout softened into a smile, one so genuine it made your chest ache. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple.  
“And you deserve it,” you countered firmly, finishing his hair with a rinse.  
When it was your turn, Pedro insisted on returning the favor, his hands gentle as he massaged the conditioner into your hair. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck as he marveled at you.  
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.  
“Even covered in soap?” you teased, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.  
“Especially covered in soap,” he replied, leaning down to steal a kiss.  
The shower ended with a flurry of soft laughter and playful splashes, the two of you wrapped in towels as you padded into the bedroom. Pedro pulled on a pair of boxers while you slipped into one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs.  
The two of you slipped into bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden light over the room. The air smelled faintly of the lavender lotion you’d rubbed on your hands, mingling with the subtle hint of Pedro’s cologne that still lingered on his skin. He had one arm draped lazily over your waist, his other hand holding a book he’d claimed to be interested in, though his wandering eyes betrayed him.
A book rested in your lap, too, but you’d long given up on reading. Instead, you could feel his gaze flickering to you, watching you more than the words on his page. It was endearing, the way he thought you wouldn’t notice, how he never grew tired of studying you like he’d never quite figure you out.  
“You’re not reading,” you finally accused, peeking at him over the edge of your book.  
Pedro grinned, unabashed. He set his book down on the nightstand and scooted closer, leaning his head on the pillow beside you. “Can you blame me?” he said, his voice soft and teasing. His hand reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “I’ve got the most beautiful view right here.”  
You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the warmth rising in your cheeks, but the smile that stretched across your lips betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, nudging him lightly with your elbow.  
“And yet, you love me,” he replied with mock arrogance, leaning back against the headboard with a self-satisfied smirk.  
“Unfortunately for me,” you quipped, though your tone was dripping with affection.  
Pedro’s laugh filled the room, low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. You settled back into your spot, his arm tightening slightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. For a while, there was only the sound of pages turning and the occasional creak of the bed as one of you shifted.  
Eventually, the books were forgotten, abandoned on the nightstand as the room grew darker, the soft click of the lamp switch plunging you into the comforting glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains.  
Lying side by side, your head resting on Pedro’s chest, you let your fingers trace lazy patterns along the bare skin of his arm. But your mind wouldn’t quiet, and as the minutes stretched on, the thoughts bubbling inside you demanded to be voiced.  
“Okay, but really,” you began, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Why is ‘llama’ spelled with two L’s? Wouldn’t one be enough? It’s not like we say ‘Llama-la.’”  
Pedro let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. He tilted his head down to look at you, his lips quirking into a smile. “Mi amor, I adore you, but it’s almost midnight. Go to sleep.”  
“I can’t until I solve this mystery,” you said with mock determination, lifting your head to look at him.  
He sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. “Fine. Maybe the second ‘L’ is there to confuse aliens.”  
You gasped, sitting up slightly. “That makes so much sense! Like, imagine aliens judging us for eating cereal with milk.”  
Pedro chuckled again, his arm tightening around you to keep you close. “Cereal with milk is sacred,” he said, his voice heavy with playful conviction. “If aliens have an issue with that, I’ll fight them myself.”  
You grinned, turning to prop yourself up on your elbow so you could face him fully. “Okay, serious question. If you could ask someone anything and be guaranteed the truth, who would it be?”  
Pedro cracked one eye open, his other hand lazily resting on your hip. “I’d ask you why you’re so determined to keep me awake,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile.  
You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious!”  
“Alright, alright,” he relented, the mirth in his eyes softening as he considered your question. “I’d ask my third-grade teacher if she really lost my homework or if she just didn’t like me.”  
You burst out laughing, the sound muffled by the way you buried your face into his chest. “That’s what you’d waste your question on?”  
“Don’t judge me,” he said with mock indignation, his fingers trailing absent patterns on your back. “It’s haunted me for years.”  
Your laughter subsided into a warm giggle as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Fine. My turn. I’d ask my mom if she’s proud of me. Like… really proud. Not just the ‘I’m your mom, so I have to say it’ kind of proud.”  
Pedro’s hand stilled on your back, his gaze softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “She’s proud of you, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “And so am I. Always.”  
The weight of his words wrapped around your heart, a comforting balm that eased the ache of self-doubt. You nuzzled closer, your fingers curling around his as you let the quiet stretch between you for a moment.  
Moments later, you broke the silence again, your voice a whisper in the dark. “When I was little, I thought my toys came alive when I wasn’t looking. Like Toy Story. Honestly, I still kinda think they do.”  
Pedro let out a deep laugh, his chest shaking beneath you as he pulled you even closer. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “Your stuffed bunny? Definitely a troublemaker.”  
You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly light as his hand returned to its slow, soothing patterns on your back.  
The conversation drifted into comfortable nonsense, the kind of midnight musings that didn’t need to make sense but brought a certain kind of intimacy only shared in the quiet hours of the night.  
Finally, as your eyelids grew heavy and your words faded into murmurs, Pedro pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice soft and steady.  
In his arms, with the world outside forgotten, you felt safe. Loved. His heartbeat was the only rhythm you needed as you drifted into sleep, a love like no other holding you steady through the night.
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skzaholix ¡ 23 hours ago
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amore , mio stray kids series
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AMORE MIO : otherwise known as "my love" is a collective bunch short love stories about our favorite boys based on songs to celebrate the upcoming love season, winter !
HE'S A GENTLEMAN , c.b - in progress / highschool au / sunshine / grumpy trope ! you've always been one who is oppressive to love, rightfully so, you've been through many heartbreaks. yet, what happens when the one guy you've never shown much of an interest in, shows you what love truly is?
MILLION DOLLAR MAN , l.m - in progress / fake dating trope / holidate au "they say money can't buy happiness, but money bought you, didn't it?" in which the million-dollar man chooses you to be his fake date for each holiday with his nagging family.
ARE YOU LONELY? , s.c - in progress / enemies (?) to lovers / popular prson, loser boy trope being popular doesn't mean having friends, at least friends who are real, so what happens when the only person there for you, is the one person that you hate?
KISS ME , h.h - in progress / she's all that au / popular boy , nerdy other trope popular boy, hwang hyunjin gets peer pressured into a bet to date the nerdy, pretentious, loser of the school and to make them popular in 6 weeks yet, what happens when you become more than just a bet?
LOVE , h.j - finished / starcrossed lovers / rich and poor au / lovesick! jisung " It doesn't matter if I'm not enough for the future or the things to come cause I'm young and in love " you're in different worlds yet individuals who love each other, you've accepted it. you know you can't be together but he just can't get enough.
LOVE STORY , l.f - in progress / starcrossed lovers / prince and painter au months, weeks, days are coming very close til prince felix is crowned king and before he does that, he needs to pick someone to rule with him but, why can't it be you?
I WANNA BE YOURS , k.sm - in progress / fake enemies to lovers / sunshine and grumpy trope in the eyes of seungmin, you're annoying, you're too bright, and definitely too happy so when you take notice of that and decide to hang with someone else, why does it make him... jealous?
THE NIGHT WE MET, y.j - in progress / strangers to lovers / starstruck(?) au you, getting away from a crowd of your family's bodyguards ran into him yang jeongin, the man you'll spend a night of fun, scares and more with
AUTHORS NOTE: happy (almost) holidays everyone, i had so much fun preparing these plots for everyone, i kinda feel like we need more sfw fluff in the skz or even more writing communities so i decided to muster up my very first series lmk what ygs think maybe i'll do more series i also wanted to do something new for some members than expected soooo
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whatifitis ¡ 1 day ago
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♡ Nine Lives - LH 44 ♡
Summary: Movie night with you and Lewis leads to yet another silly love declaration from the both of you.
Author's Note: This was a request that asked for a fluffy Lewis fic so here is my attempt at some extra fluffy stuff! Hope y'all like it. Feedback is always appreciated <3
WC: 964
CW: fluff, this whole thing is basically the nine lives song from webkinz so there's no originality i'm sorry 😭, roscoe mention
It was movie night and it was your turn to pick the movie. Well, it’s been your turn to pick the movie. Usually, you and your boyfriend, Lewis, will alternate who gets to pick the movie to make it fair, but the past 5 times, it’s been Lewis’ choice. 
You pointed out the other day that it was meant to be your turn since you hadn’t been able to pick one in ages, to which Lewis argued that the both of you had been mutually agreeing on movies which is a flat out lie. While you do enjoy watching his favorite movie Cool Runnings, it was getting to a point where you got annoyed every time the opening scene played. 
The alternate choice Lewis would give sometimes was Frozen and you could no longer let it go and love was soon gonna be an open door that would be shut in Lewis’ face. 
After some bickering, Lewis finally let you pick the next movie. You had decided that you were going to make him watch your favorite movie of all time, The Three Lives of Thomasina. You had watched the film for the first time as a child, and since then, it always brought you a sense of joy and comfort. 
The two of you prepared for your movie night by doing the usual, setting up a fort built out of couch cushions, pillows and blankets. Tonight you added some fairlights for some extra flair and in celebration of it finally being your turn to pick the movie. You had also gone out earlier in the day and bought a ton of snacks just for tonight, as well as ordering some takeout. 
Once everything was set up, Lewis, Roscoe, and yourself got settled and comfortable in your little fort. You and Lewis immediately dug into the food as you clicked play on the tv. Don’t worry about Roscoe though, you had prepared a special, vegan meal for him so that he was included in the family activity. 
When the opening scene began, Lewis was already, jokingly, sighing exasperatedly, rolling his eyes an excessive amount of times. His arms folded across his chest with a playful smile playing on his lips every time he complains about the movie, side eyeing you from time to time to watch your reactions to his antics. 
Half way through the movie, you and Lewis are cuddled up and the food has been run through. As the movie continues playing, a question pops into your head. 
“If you were a cat, would you live them all with me?” you asked curiously. 
Lewis looks down at you, brows furrowed a bit as he’s unsure where this question came from. Then he smiles, loving all the times you would ask him questions like this. They were just silly questions asked for fun and out of curiosity, but they were also ways he could profess his love to you in new ways. 
“If I had nine lives, I would live them all with you. We would go on more adventures than we do now. I would take you on a trip around the world on a sailing ship. It would be a simple boat built just for two and we’d set sail, just me and you. We'd go round and when we’d reach our destination, we’d start over. You’re the only one for me, darling. Can’t you see?” he tells you. 
“I can. For life two, we could build a home with lots of kids and garden gnomes. We would listen to the pitter-patter of feet running up and down the street.” you tell him, eyes sparkling like the night sky that shines over the two of you through the window.
“For number three, it’d be like now. I’d work a lot because that’s what I was always taught. But we’d buy all the things we’d need for a healthy family. And for life four, you would read because you love to. You’d have your own library that I built just for you. Every now and then, I’d look for your face among them.”, he rubs his thumb on the bare skin of your hip and continues, “For lives five, six, seven and eight, we would try and alleviate the sounds of suffering and the cris of hunger, pain, and forlorn eyes. We’d help people everywhere.”
Your heart is beating warmly in your chest, being reminded of all three love you and Lewis share for not only each other, but for the world that brought you two together. 
With a deep breath, you finish the story, “For life nine, we would be somewhere on a pair of rocking chairs. We’d be happy, slightly grey. If you’re lucky, I’ll bake a cake. And when I wish on a star, I will wish for nine more lives, cause nine lives would not be enough with you.” tears are now streaming down your face. 
Lewis holds the side of your face, wiping away the tears with his hand. He pulls you close to him and presses a kiss to your head, then moving to capture your lips in a soft and comforting kiss. He keeps you there for a moment, reminding you that you are his and he is yours. When you pull apart, Lewis is looking at you with admiration and love in his eyes. 
“You are my one and only love.”
Roscoe lets out a little whine, to which you and Lewis laugh at. 
You sit up and pull Roscoe to sit between Lewis and yourself. 
“How could we forget you, Roscoe? You’re the best thing to ever happen to us. My beautiful, beautiful boy. You would join us for all our lives as well, cause we wouldn’t want to do it without you.”
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lucedilunax ¡ 13 hours ago
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Bed chem - Q. Hughes
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Songs masterlist
song: Bed chem - Sabrina Carpenter
pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader
summary: Three stages in Quinn and his girlfriend relationship: how they met, how they had crush on themselves and how they sex life looks like
warning: mentions of sex (nothing graphic), swear words
words: 1.0k
note: ahh this week songs masterlist will be done, i'm gonna miss it but exciting things are coming in december!
masterlist
---
Your friend hit me up so we could connect
Brock’s girlfriend, Bella, and she were friends since they were kids but now, she finally moved to Vancouver. When Bella met Quinn, she knew that she had to set up her friend with him. She believed that they had the identical personality. The same lame jokes, the same awkward laugh and the same commitment to their jobs.
Bella told Brock about this idea and he immediately agreed. He knew her friend and totally saw her and Quinn as a couple. Both of them set them up on a blind date. She and Quinn were skeptical about this. They haven’t been looking for a partner, at least not at this moment and to be honest, they didn’t trust their friends in this field. Eventually, they agreed and went on a date. 
I digress, got me scrollin’ like
Out of breath, got me goin’ like
She adored Quinn. One date and she was all over heels for him. At first, he was giving her weird vibes but when he opened up to her, it turned out that he’s talkative and funny. She couldn't remember the last time a guy made her laugh this hard like he did this one night. When she got back home, she went on instagram and followed him. She started looking at his profile and looking at every single photo. She enjoyed what she was seeing. In her opinion, he was super handsome. 
Quinn, who wasn’t sure about this date, was thankful that he agreed to go. She was different from other women who tried so hard for him because he was an athlete. She didn’t care, he was certain that she didn't even watch hockey because she was asking him the most basic questions when he mentioned this sport. He came back home and saw that she followed him on instagram. He did the same and started looking at her pictures. He couldn’t believe how pretty she is. 
Are you free next week?
The next day, Quinn wrote to her asking if she had time next week. Now, he was leaving but he wanted to invite her to his match. Maybe even go on another date if he gets lucky. Impatient, he was waiting for her response the whole day. He was checking his phone every five minutes to see if she wrote him back. Thankfully, she did. She said that she’s free and it would be a pleasure to go to his game. Quinn was relieved. 
For a moment, Quinn thought that she might not be into him but this message changed it. He said that he’ll give her all the information when he gets back home. She thanked him and in that moment, she asked him about his day. They started writing every day about everything and nothing. His teammates caught him smiling on his phone when he got a message from her. 
Who’s the cute guy with wide blue eyes and the big bad mm?
Quinn wasn’t a big fan of taking photos of himself, but he loved doing this for her. He tried to keep her updated while being away as much as he could. She was sending him pictures of what she’s doing, which was watching tv shows, cooking and working. On the other hand, he always took pictures of himself in a suit and sent them to her. When he was coming back to Vancouver, he took a selfie on the plane and sent her a message coming home, can’t wait to see you soon.
She received the photo when she was out on lunch with her coworkers. She right away opened the message and saw him looking good as always. She stared at her phone too long and one of the girls noticed this. She looked on and saw Quinn’s face. The questions started floating around about her mysterious boyfriend. She felt embarrassed at first but talked about him with love in her voice. 
How you pick me up, pull’ em down, turn me ‘round
She and Quinn haven’t wanted to label themselves. They just went with the flow and if they are made for each other, they’ll end up together. Although, this hasn't stopped them from having sex with each other. Both of them loved this kind of deal. The sex was always incredible, especially when he was coming back pissed.
Quinn was manhandling her like a personal sex toy. She was more than willing to agreed on everything he was giving her. He was throwing her around the bed in every position that he wanted her in. Often, he would bent her over the couch or kitchen island and fuck her roughly. 
How you talk so sweet when you’re doin’ bad things 
She adored Quinn. He was always a well spoken guy who couldn’t miss a day without giving her a compliment. Always showing up with flowers and gifts from his trips. He knew how to make her feel better after a bad day. His words were always on point and she felt loved and adored. He treated her like a princess knowing that she has a low self confidence. He was her hype man. 
Quinn was changing completely when it came to a sex. He was dominating her, doing whatever he wants and likes. In his movements, he remembered about her boundaries but this hadn’t stopped him from treating her like a whore. As much as she loved his quiet and calm side, there was something so tempting and hot in his bedroom side. He enjoyed that she was there for his every beck and call. 
And I bet we’d both arrive at the same time
Despite the fact that Quinn was setting the pace and treated her like he wanted, he always made sure that she cum. He didn’t want her to feel like she’s just for his pleasure. He never denied her orgasm, sometimes controlled it but most of the time, he was overstimulating her. He was giving her at least two climax every time they had sex. His favorite part was when both could cum at the same time.
When it happened for the first time, it was a mind blowing orgasm for Quinn. He couldn’t keep his mind straight the minute he felt his release and her tightening muscles around him. Since that, he made this his own mission to end their sex with them cum in the same moment. She loved when this was happening, when their moans filled the bedroom after reaching a climax.
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morgana-larkin ¡ 2 days ago
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I love your writing and I have a Melissa x reader prompt for you.
They have something casual going on and Mel always tells the reader she is her girl until one day Melissa decides to really make the reader officially her girl.
I thought on something sweet 💕
Hi anon! I love that you love my writing and thank you for the prompt! I kept this sweet like you wanted as it could have gone dark 🙂. I based some of this off of Chappell Roan’s song Casual. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!
On another note: I decided to wait on Worth It part 12 until the new episodes come out to meet Melissa’s family and see what they’re like.
Casual Now?
Warnings: Smut
Words: 2.6k
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Both of you lay your head on a pillow after coming, catching your breath. You fall asleep and Melissa scootches closer to you and places an arm around you, gives you a light kiss to avoid waking you up, and then falls asleep beside you.
You wake up and you look to see Melissa is still asleep. You carefully get up as her arm is around you and then you quietly get dressed and then leave. Unknown to you, Melissa was awake the entire time, she woke up a few minutes before you did and she was just enjoying your body against hers, knowing you won’t be soon. She usually awoke a few minutes before you did and just enjoys the feeling of your body against hers.
She let out a sigh when she heard the door to her house close and she went to the window to make sure you got to your car safely. She then kicks her dresser out of anger and then goes to her bed and a tear falls down. The two of you started this casual, no strings attached relationship 3 months ago to let off steam from teaching, but it seems Melissa caught feelings in that time. She thinks back on what happened during sex last night.
You were under her as she had two fingers deep in you. You were a moaning mess and Melissa thinks you look beautiful and the sounds you make are music to her ears.
“Melissa, I’m so close!” You tell her as your legs start shaking.
“Come my beautiful girl.” She tells you and you immediately come.
Melissa didn’t mean to call you her girl but she figured you didn’t notice as you were so close to an orgasm. She sits on her bed thinking about what life could be like with you. If you started dating then she can show you off as hers, eventually move in together, and lots of kisses that she can steal from you.
The next day Melissa gets ready for work, she covers up the small hickey you left on her left breast by accident. She walks in and goes to the break room and sits next to Barb with the trio distracted by something on Janine’s phone.
“Did you see her again this weekend?” Barb asks her as Melissa slumps down in her chair. She of course told Barb when she started getting feelings as she had to tell someone.
“Yes, even if I know I shouldn’t, I just want to be near her.” Melissa explains to her.
“Melissa, you should end it or tell her.” Barb tells her sternly.
“I tried subtly talking about a relationship and she said it’s casual, just like we talked about 3 months ago.” Melissa says and puts her head in her hands. She then gets a text and she looks at her phone.
You: You look stressed, did the other night not help?
You messaged her and she looks and sees you across the room with some teachers and you’re looking at her.
Melissa: It helped at the time, but now I’m thinking of all the things I have to do this week
You: Need a pick me up after school?
Melissa: I’d like that
*After School*
Melissa makes her way to her car to go home and then prepare for when she sees you later. She gets to her car but then sees you walking out of the building and almost no teachers or cars around. She gets an idea and goes to you and drags you to her car.
“Melissa, what are you doing?” You ask her confused and she opens the passenger door and you smile then get in. “Can’t wait I see.” You tease her and she gets in after you.
She gets on top of you and begins making out with you and she feels the stress of today melt away with each kiss. She then goes lower and starts kissing your neck, and without knowing it, she starts sucking, marking you as hers.
“Melissa, don’t leave a hickey on my neck.” You tell her and she groans but then she trails lower and she lowers your shirt and starts sucking on your chest. You know she loves sucking on your body, but what you don’t know is she only started doing it to mark you as hers when she got feelings for you. She then gets down from the seat and drags your underwear down.
“It’s a good thing you decided to wear a dress today, my beautiful girl.” She tells you before diving right to your clit and you moan out.
“Oh Melissa, your tongue feels so good.” You gasp out and you feel her smile as she continues eating you out. You feel each lick and suck she gives your clit and you feel your orgasm start building quickly. She knows your body so well and knows how to bring you to an orgasm in minutes with just her tongue. You grab hold of her hair and you start moving your hips before she pins you down. Your legs start shaking and she goes faster before you moan out as you come. She pulls away and gets back on top of you and continues kissing you to help you come down.
You then slip your hand down her pants and find her clit and immediately start doing circles on it. Melissa gasps and grabs hold of the seat as you bring her to the edge in under a minute. She surges forward and kisses you as she comes.
“So, feel better?” You ask her as you take deep breaths while she rests on your lap.
“Ya, thanks hon.” She says softly and smiles at you.
“You looked really stressed in the break room this morning.” You tell her and she groans and rests her head on your shoulder.
“Don’t remind me.” She says and you giggle.
“Busy week this week?” You ask her.
“More like busy life.” She says and you hum. “Do you want to come back to my place? I have lots of leftovers.” She says and you look at her.
“Why do you want to feed me?”
“We’re friends aren’t we? Isn’t that what friends do?” She asks you.
“They do.” Is all you say as she draws mindless patterns on your chest.
“So want to come to my house then?” She asks you again and you smile and nod.
“Sure, I do love your cooking.” You tell her and Melissa feels happiness run through her entire body knowing she gets to spend time with you.
Melissa gets home and immediately gets changed into something more comfortable but also something that’ll have you staring at her. She goes for a dark pink low cut tank top, black leggings and a black knitted sweater her nonna gave her. You knocked on the door half an hour later and Melissa nearly ran to the door to answer it.
“Hey hon.” She tells you and you smile at her.
“Hey Melissa.” You say and go in when she steps aside. “You look nice.” You tell her when you take in her outfit.
“Thanks, I was just about to reheat the leftovers.” She tells you and goes into the kitchen and you follow her.
“I’m still surprised you offered me to come over. I know we’re friends but you barely offer any friends to come over to your place.” You tell her and she smiles at you.
“That’s because some of them annoy me.” She says.
“And I don’t?”
“You did at first, but you were new last year.”
“So what made you take an interest in me?” You ask her and she quirks an eyebrow at you. “At least, enough of an interest to want to sleep with me.” You add and she chuckles.
“You’re cute and you don’t annoy me as much.” She tells you as she gets the now hot containers out of the microwave and transfers the food onto a plate. She then takes the plates and brings them to the dinner table. You sit down and take your first bite.
“I always love your cooking.” You say with a hum and she smiles at you. “Why did you never become a chef?” You ask her.
“Because cooking is one of my passions but I only like cooking for people I like.”
“Well I’m honoured to be one of those people.” You tell her and Melissa can’t help but smile as you smile at her.
After dinner you both go to the couch with some wine and start a conversation.
“So why Abbott?” She asks you and you tilt your head. “You could teach anywhere, so why an underfunded school?”
“Because I didn’t become a teacher for a big paycheck, I became one to help students.” You tell her with a shrug. “What about you?”
“Same thing.” She says as she finishes off the wine in her glass. “Can I kiss you?” She blurts out and you look at her confused.
“Why are you asking? We’ve kissed before.” You tell her.
“Ya but only when we have sex. Right now I just want to kiss you.” She tells you and looks down at her hands. You put your wine glass down, cup her cheek and kiss her. She puts her hands in your hair to keep you from pulling away and enjoys the feel of your lips on hers. You pull away too soon for Melissa’s liking and you look at her.
“That was one hell of a kiss.” You say with a slight blush.
“Ya, it was.” Melissa agrees with a slight blush of her own.
“Did you really want me over because we’re friends and no other reason?” You ask softly.
“What other reason could I possibly have?”
“I don’t know, it’s just you’ve been acting different lately.” You say and play with your fingernails absent mindlessly.
“Different how?”
“It’s just… before, at the beginning of this casual relationship, you seem to only be in it for the sex, which is the reason we started this. But lately it seems like you want more than just sex.” You try to explain and she looks at you. “Like you kiss me a lot more now, you talk to me in school just to talk to me, you’re inviting me to your place for dinner, and the other day I ran into Kristen Marie and she mentioned you talk about me.” You tell her and she sighs.
“Can’t I just want to be friends with you as well as have casual sex.” She replies with.
“Is it still casual?” You ask her and Melissa freezes. She didn’t expect you to catch on to anything that she does differently.
“It’s still casual hon, I’m not interested in anything else.”
“I didn’t ask you if you were interested in a relationship, I’m asking if you have feelings for me.” You bluntly ask her and Melissa is looking at you like a deer in headlights.
“Look hon, I don’t know what you’re trying to get here but-” she starts to ask but you cut her off with a kiss. She immediately kisses you back and she deepens it quickly. You take her sweater off and she immediately takes yours off before you break the kiss to take off her tank top. “Wait hon, what are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“I didn’t ask you here for sex.” She clarifies and you roll your eyes.
“I know, but that tank top was driving me crazy as it gave me a great view.” You tell her before kissing her again. Melissa has become addicted to your kisses and always immediately kisses you back. You unclip her bra and tear it off her and cup her boobs with your hands. “Mm, I just love them.” You tell her.
“Touch them all you want.” She says and winks at you before kissing you again. She then straddles your lap and trails her mouth down to your neck and begins kissing it.
“No hickeys on my neck.” You remind her and Melissa has had enough.
“Why not?”
“Because we’re not together and I’m a teacher.”
“What does us not being together have to do with it?”
“Because I don’t want other girls getting the wrong idea, I don’t want them to think I’m not available.” You tell her and Melissa feels a tightness in her chest.
“Are you seeing other girls?” She asks you before she stops herself.
“On dates, yes, I’ve been on a date with two girls since we’ve been hooking up.” You tell her honestly and Melissa gets off of you and sits beside you on the couch. She puts her head in her hands as you look at her confused. “Melissa? What’s wrong?” You ask her and you put a hand on her arm.
“I don’t want you to go out with other girls, I don’t want you to be with anyone else.” She says without looking at you.
“What?” You ask her and she looks at you.
“You’re right, I do have feelings for you and I’m scared about that. I didn’t expect to get feelings for you. It did start off as just casual but about a month later I started having a crush on you.” She tells you and leans back onto the couch. You stare at her in shock before you grab her chin and turn her head to look at you.
“Are you telling me the truth?” You ask her and she nods as a tear falls down her cheek. You wipe the tear away before cupping her cheek and she leans into your touch. “I have feelings for you too.” You tell her and she puts her hand over yours that’s on her cheek.
“Really?”
“Yes, why do you think I’ve noticed you acting different? You know I can be oblivious to things like that but I noticed with you because I wanted to know if you felt the same way.” You tell her and she smiles. “And I honestly didn’t expect to tell you while your boobs are out.” You add on and she giggles.
“Are you complaining?” She asks and you shake your head.
“It’s an incredible sight and they’re a big weakness for me.” You tell her and you blush a bit. She then cups both your cheeks and leans in and kisses you.
“Do you want to be with me?” She asks when she pulls away.
“I thought you didn’t want a relationship right now?”
“I didn’t but I want you. I want you to be my girl and no one else’s.” She tells you and you smile.
“So that’s why you’ve been calling me your girl during sex lately.” You say and she nods. “I want to be your girl, but only if you ask me properly.” You say and she shakes her head.
“You’re impossible, you know that?”
“I’ve been told that yes but you want me to put your impossible girl.” You tease her with and she giggles before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“I do. Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?” She asks you.
“Yes.” You tell her and seal it with a kiss. “Wait, how is this gonna go as we’ve already been having sex with each other?” You ask her. She rolls her eyes at you and brings you in for another kiss.
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tarot-by-e11e ¡ 2 days ago
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PAC: "Little Warnings"
(this is strictly for entertainment purposes only)
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Unfortunately, this is gonna hurt. So, don't read through this if you're already going through some pretty harsh stuff.
When I felt called to do this PAC, I felt that we needed to be humbled and check ourselves occasionally to see if we were being a bit too arrogant. It's such an odd feeling to be called to do this theme for this specific PAC, but hey, even if not every loving call out may be meant for others, every message is still, in some shape or form, valid. Not all of it may resonate with you, and that is still okay~
But I am manifesting that you will encounter this when the universe deems you need to be lovingly knocked down a few pegs~
Nothing wrong with a little loving call-out?
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Pile 1:
Cards Pulled:
Queen of Wands, Hierophant, 5 of Coins
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Hi Pile 1, if you chose this pile, whenever part of your journey you read this, here are your little warnings you might need to know, so only take what resonates with you, okay?
"Aren't you getting a bit over your head lately? Nothing wrong about being confident in your own abilities but you don't need to rub it in other people's faces that you know you're that Queen B~"
"There's a fine line between confidence and arrogance, my dear. If you don't want to be perceived as someone abrasive or cheap, you know what you need to do."
"Traditions are great and all but there's always room to make new traditions. Honoring the past doesn't mean you have to continue living in the past."
"Which would you prefer being ruthlessly right all the time and be hated? Or learn how to communicate compassionately without sacrificing your truth?"
"Don't expect different results when you're clearly stuck in your ways."
"No matter how much you mean well, if you don't know how to respectfully convey your messages properly, you will not be understood in a way that you'd prefer."
"Don't expect other people to pick up on your body language and subtle hints. Not everyone is as painfully self aware as you."
"Your Past pain is valid but your attitude is not."
"You keep behaving like you can't get passed your trauma from your past then btch out on how cruel life was for you, so you project your hurt towards others, especially towards people who are living the life that you want. Seriously, pick a struggle and push through it. Make it make sense."
"You are not bound to the environment you grew up in, because you have the power to change your destiny. Remember, at the end of the day, only you can save yourself from your circumstance."
"You are more capable than you let yourself believe you are. You just chose to live in your pain when you know you have to put in the effort for you to change your life for the better."
"You are bound by your own self imposed limitations. You are imprisoned in your mind by your own fear."
Channeled Song:
(this concludes the end of your reading)
(this is strictly for entertainment purposes only)
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Pile 2:
Cards Pulled:
Queen of Swords, Chariot, Strength
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Hi Pile 2, if you chose this pile, whenever part of your journey you read this, here are your little warnings you might need to know, so only take what resonates with you, okay?
- "I'm all up for honesty, just not verbal abuse. So be discerning if the receiver of the message is too soft hearted or easily traumatised."
- "Words are double edged swords. The same words that can heal can also break someone's heart."
- "Discern which battles are worth fighting for. Know when to retreat your words when you know that how you speak may bring more harm than good."
- "Being assertive and a goal getter is nice and all, but remember, your passion may be misinterpreted as abrasive and uncouth. Remember to respect other's personal boundaries."
- "Going after what you want is normal, disregarding someone's feelings and free will isn't."
- "Think before you speak or do."
- "Your way isn't the only way."
- "Impulsive behaviour leaves you susceptible to disaster and unnecessary quarrel. It won't kill you to think before you leap."
- "You don't need to so harsh and dominant to be perceived as strong."
- "Having strength does not warrant you to be mannerless and disrespectful."
- "Hypervigilance doesn't mean you're strong. It means you've been pushed to the corner where you had no one to rely on, especially during the times you need anyone the most."
- "Being able to do everything on your own doesn't mean you don't need help. You can lean on to others unharmed too. Not everyone is out to get you."
- "Just because you used to being in pain and on your own, it doesn't mean that what you've gone through is something you deserve. Don't catastrophize every bad thing that's happened to you as a punishment from the universe. Unfortunately, bad things happen for no reason. You were just unfortunately at the wrong place in the wrong time."
- "You don't deserve to be stuck in your hyperindepence and wear your lack of trust in others like a badge of honor. Your body can only hold so much trauma before it starts completely wrecking your nervous system and have it physically manifest as an illness. Ex. You struggle to lose weight no matter how much you work out because your body doesn't feel safe to exist. That's why you body stores fat as a cushion to help make it feel safe to exist."
- "How far will you keep pushing the people you love away? Are you waiting for their patience to run out so that you can subconsciously prove to yourself that everyone would leave you?? You're so hellbent in your skewed narrative that feeds your self-sabotaging tendencies and lack of self worth that you'd do anything to have your negative self talk to manifest into your reality. Stop feeding yourself the BS that (If they're meant for me, they'll stay. News Flash, no one wants to willing stay with someone who refuse to grow out of their own toxicity. No one can save you but yourself. EVEN YOUR LOVED ONES HAS LIMITS TOO."
- "Be a dear and search up the meaning of the ff. words: GASLIGHTING, STONE WALLING, COVERT NARCISSIST, ACCOUNTABILITY, EMOTIONAL MATURITY, JEALOUSY, SOFT FBOI/GURL, SHADOW WORK, MALADAPTIVE DAYDREAMING (Feel free to see which words hurts the most for you and start working on that)"
- "No one can save you from your own self imposed mental prison of scarcity and unworthiness. People around you can only do so much for you. The power to trap you and free you has always been in your hands."
- "Are you done thinking that everyone is out to get you? Hopefully you'd come to realise that people don't think about you as much as you think they do. Everyone's busy barely surviving their lives to be bothered to meddle with yours."
- "You're not as strong as much as a target you think you are, and that's okay. You don't have to be in everyone's mind and in everyone's DM to feel important. You are worthy and deserving of all regardless if you are in the spotlight or behind the scenes."
- "Two things can be true at the same time. You are the Main Character of your life and also be a background character is someone else's storyline."
- "What's serious for you may not be serious for someone else. So don't expect others to adjust for you when you made zero efforts to properly communicate what you wanted to say."
Channeled Song:
(this concludes the end of your reading)
(this is strictly for entertainment purposes only)
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Pile 3:
Cards Pulled:
7 of Swords, Ace of Swords, 6 of Wands
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Hi Pile 3, if you chose this pile, whenever part of your journey you read this, here are your little warnings you might need to know, so only take what resonates with you, okay?
- "Just because someone broke your heart it doesn't give you the right to leave a trail of broken hearts in your path. Your pain is valid but your attitude and actions afterwards aren't."
- "Being betrayed in the past doesn't mean you should play and to toy with someone else's feelings. You are becoming the player that you hated the game for."
- "Not all people mean to use and abuse you. Other people are just good natured and mean what they say. Don't confuse someone's genuity because someone else broke your trust before."
- "Discernment is highly encouraged, projecting your pain and jealousy isn't."
- "It's great to chase new ideas, what's not great is to chase the idea of someone new then cheat on your current partner just because things got bored. Don't be a part of the problem."
- "Don't even dare entertain anyone new just because you chose to be lazy and not put in the effort to communicate on how your current relationship can get better. Emotionally opening up to someone is cheating. Having a work husband/wife is still cheating. Putting yourself in any situation that would cause your partner to doubt your loyalty is a breeding ground of disaster of the life you currently know."
- "If you caved in and cheat now, you are bound to cheat again. If you allow yourself to be tempted now, you have proven yourself unworthy to even be in a loving relationship. In short: you have become part of the problem. So don't expect receiving anything you refused to give. You have no right to the privileges of an exclusive and healthy relationship if you fck around and find out. (because you actively chose to play whack a mole and find out what it's like to have std because of your recklessness)."
Channeled Song:
- "How far will you go just to win? Will you cheat on your partner just to have a promotion? Will you pay someone to ruin your competition just to win? Will you start a smear campaign just to go ahead? Will you drop little white lies to make yourself appear as the better option? How illegal and immoral would you allow yourself to become just to get ahead? Is it worth it? Lose your friends and family along the way? Just to win that empty cup?"
- "Will you abandon your morals just to win?"
(this concludes the end of your reading)
(this is strictly for entertainment purposes only)
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Pile 4:
Cards Pulled:
6 of Swords, Knight of Cups, 7 of Wands
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Hi Pile 4, if you chose this pile, whenever part of your journey you read this, here are your little warnings you might need to know, so only take what resonates with you, okay?
- "Unfortunately, leaving the problem behind without any explanation or letter won't make it go away."
- "Ghosting, just to protect your ego, is never the answer. Face your issues like an adult and accept the consequences of your actions accordingly."
- "No amount of dr*gs, alcohol, smoke or flings can help you tun away from your own willful ignorance. You can't run away from your own feelings. The only way to get away/rid of your problem is by facing it. This is one of the moments in a person's life where DELULU is NOT the SOLULU."
- "Fleeing the country won't keep you from feeling your feelings."
- "Just because you understand how people work and emotionally operate, it doesn't mean that you should use that to your unfair advantage. Stop binge watching those dark psychology videos. And you wonder why people pick a bad vibe from you? What do you expect? You are indeed the problem: the not so covert manipulative problem."
- "Stop using the promise of helping others with their dreams just so you can trick them in making your dreams come true at their expense."
- "You can only spin a web of lies so far."
- "You're not as convincing of a gaslighter as you think you are. People can see through your lies, they just chose not to speak up because, yes, they do it out of pity."
- "Resilience is incredibly admired but bulldozing other people out of your way to get the results is out of the question."
- "Not seeing the results that you want then btching about not having slept enough and feeling like you're about to collapse? You chose to overwork and overburden yourself to the point of burn out, and you're shocked that your health and sanity is fcked up? Dear, make it make sense."
- "Has it ever occurred to you that just because you put in the effort to win someone over, it doesn't mean that they're obligated to choose you? Free will and preferences are a thing, you know? You can be everything and more to that person, and that person is not required nor obligated to choose you. You can the most ideal man/woman and still not be chosen."
- "Don't expect exclusivity from someone who told you from the beginning that they're there to fck around. You can't change someone just because you stayed. You can only keep someone that wants to be kept by you."
Channeled Song:
(this concludes the end of your reading)
(this is strictly for entertainment purposes only)
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Feel free to check out my feedback herePaid Readings are AVAILABLE
In all honesty, I feel so bad for releasing this PAC but there's this oddly strong gut feeling that we all need to be humbled and wake up to the toxicity we all chose to lie with at night.
In fact, some things we've gone through, unfortunately are the results of our own lack of accountability.
Sorry if I hurt your feelings, but some painful warnings need to be said.
Notice:
Exchange Readings are OPEN
Feel free to send me some support in the form of tips,
Head to my Buy-Me-A-Coffee here 🍀
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sturnskiss ¡ 3 hours ago
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juno ! Ἅ᭥
pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader
word count: 980
summary: boat days with rafey make you so fucking horny<333 based on the song ‘juno’ by sabrina carpenter
warnings: no actual smut, use of y/n, mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, probably more i dont fucking know
authors note: IM BAAAACK! bringing back the short n’ sweet inspired rafe fics
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boat days with rafe were your favorite days. you didn’t have to be sexual with rafe to have fun together, and you guys had your own way of showing appreciation— which, of course, included sex some days, but you also just got each other.
your love for each other was showcased best on the druthers on hot and sticky summer afternoons. you’d be tanning and feel a lack of warmth for a second, opening your eyes to see rafe towering over you, blocking the sun. a fruity seltzer in his hand, he’d hand it to you and you’d continue tanning. you didn’t ever have to tell him what you were thinking, he just gets it.
or he’d let you apply sunscreen on him— this was a rarity. he claimed he didn’t care if he got burnt or not, and you’d always reply with something along the lines of ‘you will care when you get skin cancer in 20 years!’ so you’d stand on your tippy toes, rubbing the white substance on his face, chest, back, arms, and legs until you saw fit. this was also a perfect excuse to feel him up. you hated his father, ward, for giving him life-long daddy issues but this was one of the only times you’d thank him. God bless his dad’s genetics, because rafe cameron is one sight to see and feel under the north carolina heat. beads of sweat dotting his face and chest, small freckles appearing on his nose and how gorgeous he looked driving the boat.
today was one of those days; you in a tiny pink bikini and rafe looking particularly fuckable edible hot pretty. you watched as he steered the boat towards wherever the hell he was taking you, his grip on the steering wheel showing off his toned, muscular arms. you just about melted in your sun chair rafe layed out for you.
it was days like this where you seemed to be so in love you’d do just about anything for him. rafe was too busy steering the boat, leaving you alone in your thoughts as you soaked up the vitamin d. you often thought about your future with rafe, and rafe doesn’t talk about the future rarely ever, but you knew he’d want your touch for life. he hasn’t and probably won’t ever come out and directly say he wants to spend forever with you, but his words always allude to it.
you never take the things he says during sex seriously; he’s always grunting about putting a baby in you or telling you to never ever leave him— you wouldn’t dare— but you wonder if he really truly means it. however, this doesn’t stop you from hinting at the fact you would like this all to become a reality. he’d be picking you up to go to dinner and you’d do a little twirl, showing off your dress. he’d tell you you look great, just like always, and you’d be like ‘well, there’s actually one thing missing…’ rafe would grumble something like ‘fuck are you talkin’ bout, kid? you’re fully dressed.’ and you’d stick your left hand out to him, showing him your naked ring finger. ‘missing a rock right there.’ and he’d roll his eyes and tell you to get in the damn truck.
you hopped off the tanning chair and found your way to a mini fridge that’s always stocked with various drinks. you opted for a twisted tea and you grabbed rafe a beer. you giddily walked to find rafe who was standing by the steering wheel, one hand on it and the other glancing down at his phone.
“here ya go,” you smiled and handed him the glass bottle.
“thanks, baby.” he said while placing a kiss to your temple, turning his phone off.
you looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing the lack of a wedding ring on his hand. you frown, “looks so boring right here, right?” you look up at him, your finger pointing to his ring finger.
“can you just wait?” he scolded.
“i just think this day would be even more perfect with a mini us running around!” you declared, looking around the boat imagining a tiny rafe or a tiny you waddling all over.
he rolled his eyes and continued steering the boat.
“like, one of me is cute but two though?”
rafe laughed, “are you ovulating or something? holy shit,”
you smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek, “can’t help it.”
“jus’… gimme time, baby.” he muttered before taking a sip of his beer.
so maybe having a baby at 19 wasn’t the best idea. but there were far worse things you could be doing with your life! rafe has enough money to support you and the baby until the end of time, including your retail therapy and regular therapy, so what is so wrong with that?
“give me one good reason why we can’t have a baby right now.” you said, crossing your arms which only made rafe take this conversation less serious because his eyes were immediately drawn to your tits.
rafe smirked, “shit, i dunno. i will say, your tits would be massive with a little baby in you.”
you gasped, “so you do wanna have a baby!”
“never said that.” he sniffed.
rolling your eyes you said, “whatever. god forbid i want a future with you!” you stormed off leaving rafe behind you.
of course, rafe didn’t want to hurt your feelings so he apologized very thoroughly later. he made sure to tell you that he did want a future with you, but he wants you to enjoy your young adulthood before potentially wrecking your life and freedom by bringing a baby into the world. in response to this, you stuck your tongue out at him.
“see, who needs a fucking baby when we got you around?” he said teasingly.
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TAGLIST (reply to my tag list post to be added)
@xcinnamonmalfoyx @neediestpuppy @ethanthequeefqueen @maybankslover @pankowblues @drewsphswife @wearemadeofstardust0
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laswells-ashtray ¡ 2 days ago
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thinking about retired MacMillan, about to go to bed... when suddenly his phone rings. He picks it up, ready to go off at whatever telemarketer dared to call him at 11pm at night
It's John Price, drunk out of his mind *sobbing* about how he's sorry, he was such a prick, he was a bad Sergeant and he understood MacMillan now. ((Soap just nearly blew himself up disobeying an order and Price had the sudden realization that *that was him as a Sergeant*)) Nikolai has to practically wrestle the phone away from drunken Price, apologizing to MacMillan for taking his eyes off him.
Price doesn't remember the phone call, and is very confused when a few days later MacMillan shows up to base demanding to see his "grand sergeants" as Price drunkenly said (you're they're grand-captain! and they're your grand-sergeants!!!)
They're at a bar when it happens. After a mission that was successful but not without a handful of life-threatening hiccups, John drinks more than usual and if Nikolai is honest, he suspects the captain's last whisky was spiked because it takes one song change for the gruff Englishman to quickly turn sombre and start reminiscing about his own captain.
Nikolai is quick to lead his partner out of the bar with a quick goodbye to the rest of them as he decides it's home time for the two of them. Three minutes. Three minutes is all it takes before he hears John sniffling and turns to see him mumbling into his phone, quickly dissolving into a genuinely emotional, heartfelt apology to whoever is on the other line. That's when he knows John's drink was tampered with. He takes a quick second to text Ghost and inform him of what's happened, telling him to watch around the bar in case it happens to someone else or one of them.
By then John is out of it, tears streaming down his face as he rants and raves about the difficulties of the mission and how they almost lost Soap to whoever's on the other end of the phone. The he catches it. "Fuck, 'm, sorry, Mac. Was a right git when I was a sergeant."
MacMillan. He drunk-dialed MacMillan, unsurprising. Nikolai likes the older man, always has and he knows John still keeps in touch even if the contact is rare with how busy he is.
He has to wrestle the phone out of his partner's hands with one of his own while using the other hand to ensure John remains standing. A task far more difficult than expected but he succeeds.
"Captain?"
"Wit the fu- Nikolai?"
"Да."
"Wit the fuck? Is John awright? Dinnae tell me the lad's concussed, or is he pished? Wit's he dribblin' oan about sergeants fir? Nikolai, why is my boy greetin' doon the phone like a bairn who's scraped his knee?"
For a brief moment, Nikolai curses your average Scotsman because he's a little drunk and if he thought Soap was bad then the young man has nothing on a tired MacMillan.
"Apologies, Captain. We were at a bar and I believe John's drink has been tampered with. He is rather out of it."
"Oh, for fuck sake. Is he awright? Are yous back hame or still fannyin' aboot at the pub?"
"We're heading back home now."
"Mac, I'm sorry-"
"Aye, a ken, son. Get hame and intae yer bed. Nikolai, get 'im in bed. geez a ring if there's any trouble. Awright lad?"
"Да, sir. Goodnight, captain."
"Night Nik."
After that Nikolai doesn't think much about the phone call. He's preoccupied with getting John home and responding to the text Ghost sends him. It's a picture of a man beaten bloody in an alley behind the pub. He knew Ghost would find the bastard tampering with drinks.
Then he gets called into John's office a few days later and is met with two faces. A very confused-looking John and a very fucking amused MacMillan.
"Ah, there he is. Nikolai, mind reminding our wee John here about that phone call from the other night? I believe I have, what was it you called grand-sergeants to meet? Where's the Scottish lad? I'm mighty interested in that one."
"What the fuck are you on about, Mac?"
"Oh, you don't remember? I'm glad. I can't wait to tell you all about your heartfelt apology for being a pain in my arse back in the day."
Nikolai knows he's in for it later when he snorts at the expression on John's face and his partner shoots him a glare. But the sheer unbridled joy on MacMillan's face when Nikolai lets slip that John's lieutenant and two sergeants are actually in the gym training with each other makes it worth it.
Hours later when MacMillan has the three men cracking up with old stories of John's batshit antics when he was a sergeant, Nik is happy. Happy that they're all relaxed for once and enjoying themselves but mostly he's happy that John, while moderately embarrassed, looks more content than he's been in weeks.
John Price might be a captain but he was MacMillan's sergeant long before that. It's an incentive to remind John to contact the older man more often. Just not at night, for the life of him, Nikolai cannot figure out what a bairn is.
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heartfullofleeches ¡ 2 days ago
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ITS MY BIRTHDAY TODAY🎉🎉🎉🎉 I was wondering how my favorites would wish me a happy birthday, Tobi, the cafe, host, static, the supernatural harem and the fast food, if that’s too many you can shorten it but I really wanted to have some of my favorite characters from my favorite writer congratulate me on my special day! BTW I’m the one who sent the Prince leash ask, I don’t know if you got it but I accidentally did it anonymously
(The Cafe was a bit too much for me to get this out to you the same day, but I hope you like this regardless! On the bright side, I did get your Prince ask and am working on that too. Happy birthday, chief!)
Tobi:
Has never had a birthday himself, but they know what they are and their significance to humans other regular people. Tobi's the kind of guy to surprise you with presents year round, but as your birthday rolls around they keep items you've had your eye on in their back pocket to gift you on your big day.
Its too embarrassing for them to give you in person, but Tobi creates a collage of all their favorite pictures of you to put up somewhere in your bedroom. Tobi loves baking and cooking so a homemade breakfast, dinner, and your treat of choice would be on the top of their list of surprises for you.
Host:
"Looks like it's a special someone's birthday- Those only come around once a year, you know? If - that's how you want it, anyway."
That time already? Time is a tricky thing for Host to wrap his head around. He could've sworn the last one was just yesterday. It hardly matters. Everyday could be your birthday- Contenstants come and go, but you'll always be his star.
That would, of course, wear the novelty of it all thin. Host is more than happy saving the pinnacle of his gratitude for you as his co-host for that one day. That day's contestants better be too if they want to leave with all the parts they came with intact.
Which is his funny way of saying they won't get any cake.
Static:
"Happy birthday to you.... Happy birthday to you...."
Hunts for every variety of birthday song they can find to serenade you with the second daylight bleeds into your room. Static's disappears predating your birthday can swiftly be explained by the trinkets they bring you, majority centered around the shows and movies you've watched together it knows you adore most.
They'd attempt to rope you into another movie night with you in full control of the remote since it's their favorite way to bond with you - and it's optimal cuddle time.
Supernatural Harem:
"Baron, must you make everything a challenge?"
"Piss off! I left enough room for you two to put your names on the cake.... Maddox more importantly than you, but still."
"We appreciate the consideration, but... Where are we supposed to write "happy birthday"?"
Nothing like waking up on your big day to your Demon husband roommate swearing today will be the day he slaughters your Angel husband roommate. Luckily, your Grim Reaper spouse roommate has the expertise to ġeep you soothed until things cool over long enough for all of them to prepare breakfast for you.
Baron stalks you around to shower you with mandatory birthday kisses- only to get pouty when he's done before noon and continues well past the age you're turning. You'll be older than all three of them by the time he's through.
Maddox, as usual, fills their journal with sketches of you to unveil at the end of the day. Their art skills is the only thing they're proud of in themselves and monetary possessions don't hit quite the mark they're trying to reach when it comes to presents they like to give. If you're a gamer/a fan of stuffed animals they'll pick up a couple so they can use them when you're away and they miss you.
The first birthday you celebrate with Alasdair has to be one to remember. He's watched you from the sidelines for years and now it's finally his chance to do what he's always wanted. It may be a tad selfish of him in hindsight, but he'll pull you aside the day before or after to enjoy a relaxing evening with just the two of you.
Fast Food:
"Code C! I repeat, Coqde C - The clown is loose!"
Birthday? Well you can't expect to have a celebration without the designated party planner, can you? As everyone closes up the restaurant early to commemorate your big day, Twister hoovers over the crew to insure everything goes swimming. The Janitor follows behind it with their trusty spray bottle to keep the clown in check - its the only excuse they have not to give their present to you by hand because they're too embarrassed.
The bathroom Succubus would insist on you opening her gifts to you first - if a certain goat wouldn't pout over it all day as a result. The ballpit hands shower you with all the shiny items lost in their depths. The Storyteller reads you the tale of someone who's birthday happens to fall on the same day - where nothing bad occurs and the universe smiles kindly in their favor.
The ice cream machine ghost whispers in the ears of customers they'd better wish you a happy birthday or be prepared to have dairy filled nightmares
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hockeyboistrash ¡ 10 hours ago
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red | j.h
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This is my submission for the eras tour fic challenge by @wyattjohnston and @comphy-and-cozy . My song is Red 😊
Losing him was blue, like I'd never known
It was a warm summer's evening but not hot enough that you could go without a jumper. You remember that because you were wearing Jack's high school hockey jumper. He gave it to you a couple of months after you started dating when you got cold on one of your dates. You never gave it back because Jack always said it looked better on you than him, his eyes twinkled with love when he said that. You missed that look.
Jack could barely look you in the eyes now. His usual confident aura was replaced with nerves. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his grey shorts and his gaze was on the floor. You didn’t know where this came from. One minute you were talking about your future together after college and the draft, the next Jack was breaking up with you. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He mumbled. You had so many mixed emotions. Upset because the love of your life was breaking up with you. Angry because he was breaking up with you without a good reason. Angry because he can’t look you in the eye and do it. 
“You’re breaking up with me and that’s all you can say? Sorry?” You tried to keep your voice calm, wanting to hide how his words affected you. “Why, Jack? Why are you doing this? I don’t understand. Did someone say something to you?” Jack glanced at you for a fleeting moment, enough to see the guilt in his eyes. 
“I-I’m sorry.” You stood frozen as you watched Jack walk away. Tears silently falling down your cheeks and your heart hurt. Your first heartbreak is the one that hurts you most after all. 
Missing him was dark gray, all alone
It was nights like this when you missed Jack. Rain was pelting the windows, the electricity had gone out and you were cold. If Jack was here he’d have you wrapped in his arms, curled up in bed together keeping each other warm. Jack would then get bored and pepper soft kisses over your face, getting lower and lower, his fingers dancing at the waistband of your leggings. You missed him.
It was one of your favourite memories together, the weather was similar to tonights. Rain was falling heavily, pelting the windows with force, it was cold and the electricity was out. With Jack though, you felt safe. The torrential downpour outside was pushed to the back of your mind and so was the power outage. 
Candle light danced across Jack’s features, highlighting the concentration on his face. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. It was cute how into the card game he was. “Just pick a card.” You said, sighing playfully. 
“I can’t just pick a card.” He grumbled, frowning at his cards trying to figure out which one to put down. Before you could tease him more, a boom of thunder shook the windows making you jump. “Come here.” Jack said, opening his arm out for you. The card game now forgotten. You put your own cards down, scooting over to Jack and tucking yourself in his arms. “It’s okay.” He mumbled against your head.
The two of you stayed in each other's arms long enough for the thunderstorm to pass. “Sorry.” You apologised, feeling embarrassed about being scared of the storm.
“You don’t need to apologise, Y/N.” Jack assured you, brushing a stray bit of hair out of the way. “I’m here for you, always.” He promised, cupping your cheek and pressing a soft kiss onto your lips. 
He wasn’t here though. His side of the bed remained cold, the moments together remained a distant memory. 
Forgetting him was like trying to know Somebody you never met
How were you expected to move on from your first love when his face was plastered everywhere. Just when you think you’re doing better he pops up and you’re slipping back to old habits, looking at old photos of you together and missing him. 
You got to give your friends credit though. They tried to help you move on, to forget about Jack Hughes. They set you up on dates, took you out to bars to meet guys. They did everything they could but something in the back of your mind would always go back to Jack. 
Tonight had to be the worst blind date you’ve been on yet. He wouldn’t stop talking about your ex. You felt a pit in your stomach form when you saw the tv at the bar had hockey on and then your date noticed and made comments throughout the night. He was a Rangers fan talking shit about the Devils. You tried not to let it bother you, you weren’t dating Jack anymore so why do you care what some random guy said about him and his team. 
That was the problem. You did care about him. Jack Hughes was a guy you could never forget. 
But loving him was red
You knew you shouldn’t be doing this but after a shitty night and a few drinks all common sense went out the window. Your heart that was haphazardly stitched back together would only break again yet you found yourself dialling the familiar number.
“Y/N?” Jack said, picking up his phone. You felt your mouth go dry not expecting him to answer. “Are you okay?” He asked, concern lacing his voice. You could hear him go somewhere quieter, the voices in the background disappearing.
“I’m not okay, Jack. You broke my heart. I loved you and you broke my heart. I can’t escape this feeling because you are everywhere. I can’t go on dates without thinking about you. I miss you. I shouldn’t but I do. So no, I’m not okay because you messed me up Jack Hughes. You gave me the best years and the worst years of my life. I hate you but I love you at the same time. I’m not okay.” The filter in your brain disappeared, words tumbled out and they didn’t stop yet it felt like a weight had been lifted. Years of words accumulating burst. 
“Where are you? I’ll come and get you.” Jack said after a beat of silence. The logical side of you knew this was a bad idea but you found yourself wanting to see him, the years of pain slowly being forgotten. Loving him was red after all.
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letsbangts ¡ 6 hours ago
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tell me what to do || jjk
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⤡ summary: when the familiar becomes unfamiliar what do you do
⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader
⟶ word count: 3.4k
⟶ genre: angst, established relationship au, breakup au
⟶ content: boyfriend!jk, big argument, talking about breaking up, the blame game, basically misunderstanding due to miscommunication
⟶ warnings: explicit language
a/n: again, this a very old piece I polished up, okay so this was my second piece of work so read with caution. as you can guess it is based on shinee’s tell me what to do because I was absolutely obsessed with the song so I used the lyrics as a guideline for writing, I incorporated the lyrics into the story. let me know what you think i really appreciate feedback :) & recommend a song if you’d like and i’ll write a scenario with it like i did with this song)
☕︎ ☕︎ ☕︎ ☕︎ ☕︎ ☕︎ ☕︎ ☕︎ ☕︎ ☕︎
these days, i don’t know, i don’t know you. you look like you gave up on a lot of things but i hear your silent scream
I sit at the dining table drinking tea in my home - our home but lately nothing seems like ours anymore. It feels like there never was an ours, never an us. I don’t even need to sense it, I can see it. It’s as though I don’t know him anymore. He looks like he gave up on a lot of things, and like he gave up on us. I can almost hear him silently screaming for an end, our end.
lovers without extreme development is this the losing hand that time has placed? we haven’t ended it but it’s already over
He walks through the doorframe fully dressed ready for his day while still sporting his messy bedhead that he somehow manages to make look angelic. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed, I still see his beauty and that’s something I don’t think could ever change. Because that is what he is a beauty inside and out and that can’t simply disappear.
He greets me with a gentle kiss on the forehead, a soft  “good morning” and a soft smile. We’ve been like this for a while now, stuck in this certain level of interaction almost a routine. Like lovers without any extreme development, without any growth in our relationship if you can even call it that anymore.
“Did you sleep well?” I ask a bit apprehensively.
He picks up the coffeepot, while avoiding any slight piece of eye contact and pours himself a cup with the coffee I made for him, just another part of our routine. I’ve always hated coffee, its dull blackness, the bitter taste, the way it leaves a stain, how the smell lingers, and how it keeps you awake. But after Jungkook that view changed for me, its dull blackness suddenly started reminding me of Jungkook’s dark dreamy eyes, the bitter taste of it reminded me of his lips as that was my only intake of it, and those stains it left was warmth around my heart, the smell was like being engulfed in his arms, and it allowed me and him to be up spending more hours together. In a way, coffee was like a representation of our love.
However, that love has turned black and bitter just like the coffee in his mug. The sweet smiles we always shared and the bright laughs that used to be heard between us vanished. He vanished, pulled away and it was too late to try to pull him back.
“Mhm,” he replies nodding while taking a sip, and like our love, it disappears as he swallows it down.
I nod with him and look down at my hands wrapped around my mug. Is this the losing hand that time has placed? Were we just doomed to keep repeating the same routine with each other in denial, in silence similar to the one we are currently sitting in a few metres apart while we are living in different worlds away from one another?  We haven’t ended it but it’s already over. We were already over.
He refuses to have conversations with me when before no one could ever shut us up. Instead of constantly messing around to get a smile out of each other, he always seems to be at a safe distance away from me.
there’s a knot that can’t be untied in front of us
As the bottoms of both our cups are revealed, so is our obvious stunt to keep a conversation from starting. Jungkook sets his mug in the sink and approaches me, and with just those movements my heart races.
“Well I’m going to head off okay?”, he stares at me with an expression I struggle to read…it’s almost…apologetic.
“Yeah, I need to start getting ready anyway,” I say.
“Okay then I guess I’ll see you later,” he says like it's a question while picking up his keys and approaching the door. As if he is unsure we will return to each other as if we are not one another's home.
I hum in agreement and just as his hand is about to touch the knob. I realise he forgot, one of the things that I assumed had turned into second nature for us has slipped out of his head. Now fearing that I could be the next thing to slip out of his head or even worse slip out of his life.
“Jungkook?” I call out.
He turns almost too quickly like he has been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.
“Yeah?” he turns with wide eyes.
I give him a look, a look that speaks words only he could understand.
“Ah,” he sighs approaching me.
He cups my face with two hands, hands that are all too familiar but feel like they belong to a stranger at the same time.
He gives me the kiss I had reminded him of. It isn't necessarily part of our routine but something we have always done. It was always our sign of love to the other before we headed out into the world, a reminder of our love.
A reminder I think is much needed for us both.
He pulls away still holding my face “Sorry” he says and this time the apologetic look in his eyes is all too clear matching his voice.
But as I hear his words his ‘sorry’ seems to be for a different reason than just forgetting to kiss me before leaving the house. But without thinking more I just let it go.
“It’s okay. Get going now or you’ll be late.” I laugh softly and with one last kiss, he’s out the door.
There’s a knot that can’t be untied in front of us, both knowing that we should let go, that we should kiss goodbye one last time and both walk out of that door and go our separate ways for good. But that is easier said than done.
Jungkook and I both well aware of the fall in our relationship are also conscious of the love that will forever remain between us. The history between us is far too much for us to walk away. To take five years of memories and experiences with a person you’ve grown with so much that they have become an attachment to your life, to you as a person is an unimaginable pain that we would both rather avoid.
It is also scary, Jungkook is the one thing I remember having through everything, he is essentially a part of me. The thought of becoming one person again is something I never pictured having to do again. In all of my plans for myself, and for the future he is right there beside me. I have become accustomed to considering things for two people I couldn’t imagine just worrying about me, one person.
But as I consider what is right for the two of us all I can think of is that maybe we were better off as two separate people.
you don’t tell me but you want me to know you think that you only gave the words you threw at me because you’re too used to me
As the day comes to a close I hear the door open and footsteps follow. The sound I used to anticipate now makes me tense. Nevertheless, once the owner of those steps and so much more turns the corner, my lips can’t help but leap into a smile that’s both relieved and nervous.
Jungkook takes off his shoes and takes a seat beside me, with yet a space once again between us.
“Hey,” he breathes out as he settles into the couch.
I slightly hesitate, “Hey”
We sit in silence but hear everything that wants to be said. An invisible weight piling up on our shoulders, an awkwardness that has become usual between us. So I finally broke it and said it. The moment we never believed would come or tried to avoid finally came.
“L-look Jungkook," I take a deep breath and continue, "we both know what has happened between us-“
“Ye-Wait, what?” he interrupts, eyebrows furrowed.
“No, it's time we finally faced it, we’ve run our course. I supposed our time together was only supposed to be this long.”
“What are you talking about?-“
This time it is me who interrupts.
“It's just hard for me to let go of you, you just mean so much to me but I can’t control how you feel.”
“Huh? How do I feel? What do you mean? What are you even talking about right now?" he rushes out.
“It's okay you don’t have to keep silent like you’re keeping some secret from me, I know. You’ve lost feelings for me”
“No, you’re not listening to me-“
“Kookie, it's okay I’m a big girl I’ve broken up with a guy before.”
“Break up?", his voice panicked, "Woah just listen to me for one second, will you? Holy shit!”
Once again we sit in silence except this time I can’t hear the silent words waiting to be said.
He shakes his head.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You think you know but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about not even close.”
“I-I thought-“ I stutter out eyes widened.
“Yeah exactly, you thought. Or is that what you want? Do you want to break up?” he asks staring me directly in my eyes, his voice much softer with apprehension.
“I want to make things easier for you,” I reply in a whisper head lowered as I fiddle with my hands in my lap.
He gives me a look, a look as if I have just said something impossible to comprehend. We were both unaware of what had been happening between us for months. It's like he has become so used to the act we put on to ignore our downfall that he forgot it was an act.
“Easier? " he scoffs a laugh with zero humour, "Is breaking up something easy for you?” he argues back.
The fact that he was going to sit there and continue to play this game even after I called it out sparked an emotion inside of me and the one that decided to come out was anger.
“Oh, come on Jungkook! We both know you checked out on us a long time ago.”
His eyes widen and then he also snaps.
“Me? I checked out, are you being fucking serious right now? I know I have pulled away a bit but you didn’t give me any sign to do otherwise!”
“Are you seriously turning this on me right now?” I snapped back with a newfound boldness to defend myself instead of my initial plan to make this an easy conversation for him. For us.
“Well, I’m not going to blame myself, even though that’s what you’re trying to do. Just because you know me, you think that means you know all my inner fucking feelings. When it's clear you don’t know mine or your own!” He says in a stern and loud tone that I have heard him use in the past…. just never to me.
indifferent and painful words left deep scars on that day words that made me realize that i’m still a fool
“Well, maybe it wouldn’t be so easy for me to read your feelings if it wasn’t so blatantly obvious on your face and the way you act differently around me now!”
“And you think I started acting the way I did simply because I suddenly just lost all my feelings for you? You can’t be that clueless!”
The words being thrown between us were indifferent and painful which had already left their mark on both of us and only made us more frustrated. At this point, the distance between us seems bigger than the couch itself and my heart feels heavier than when I thought we were about to break up.
“No, you can’t be this low into making this seem like it’s all on me! And not knowing my feelings how does that even make sense?” I blurt out.
“Seriously, I know when we first started having problems we both started acting slightly different towards each other but it was never this bad…” voice much calmer and less tense than it was a few seconds ago as he continued.
“But it was after my birthday, you know after what happened, you just changed how you acted toward me -with me completely.” His tone turned the air serious almost still. I felt it slap me right across my face, run right into my chest knocking the air out of me.
“I-I did?", making my way full circle back to stuttering.
The next words that come out of his mouth make me realize the fool that I am. And at this realization, I could only tear up. Choked up it is my eyes this time that turn apologetic, while his eyes look at the floor before us.
He nods.
“You did. At first, it was just little things like not asking me to pick you up on my way home or not asking for my shirt to wear to bed. But then it turned into so much more.”
I looked down filled with a bit of shame. Until I heard a sound from him I didn’t expect, a chuckle.
“Just like that. You didn’t even look at me anymore. At the table, in the car, you even turn your back to me when we’re in bed. I used to catch you staring at me even when I wasn’t looking at you.” He smiles fondly at the memory and it’s his turn to look down at his hands.
He plays with his bracelet, one I got for him two years ago for his birthday. He shakes his head, ”It’s as if my presence makes you completely uncomfortable now.” his voice cracks.
And it is right then when I do too.
if only i can erase it if only i can
At that moment I wished I had done the exact thing he told me I always did. Because once I did look up at him what I saw broke me. His eyes filled with tears he is trying to hold back, a few escaping but he is quick to wipe them away. It was the worst thing I could see besides looking at me driving him away. It was me hurting him. If I could erase everything I did to make him think that I didn't love being around him I would, and now I could.
i took you for granted but just thinking of you not being there i don’t want to go through that my world would crumble
Although I may not be able to erase everything I can change everything from here on to prove to him he has the wrong view of what he is to me. He is the furthest thing than just an uncomfortable presence. He is my best friend, my roommate, my chauffeur, my home, my family, and my lover. My everything. Even the thought of him not being in my life…my whole world would fall apart.
am i the one for you at some point, you were keeping me in check i said you changed a lot but i changed the most the one for me, i didn’t know but that promise keeps suffocating us time keeps lingering but our time keeps getting destroyed
The tears running down his face make me think he feels the same, that he doesn’t want us to end like this. It assures me of us, that he is the one for me and I am the one for him.
“I’m sorry,” he looks at me and for the first time in a while we both look into each other’s eyes with hopefulness, “I said you changed a lot, but I was the one who changed the most. And I kept acting that way because I had made myself think that was what you wanted. I didn’t want to let you go so I thought by doing that I would hold onto you longer but that very thing is what suffocated us. It's what wrecked our relationship and sent it down even further. We had so much time to fix it but it just kept getting destroyed.” I say with two streams running one under each eye.
He finally speaks after what to me feels like a whole lifetime.
“It's okay, I mean, it's both our faults though,” he sniffs, “We should have had this conversation a long time ago.” He has gone back to fiddling with his bracelet this time him being the one to break eye contact.
He laughs, again catching me off guard with the unexpected reaction.
“It’s funny, the one thing we did the most even when we didn’t need to or weren’t even supposed to do, is what we failed to do when we needed to the most…talk.”
I couldn’t help but laugh as well at the irony.
“I guess we took all those times we told each other to shut up when watching movies to heart.” I chuckle out and he laughs at my response.
that smile came to me, more brightly the cold hands became more warm two lonely souls met not lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely i’ll look into you again, i’ll place your breathing in my ears even if everything but us changes
His smile seemed brighter now more than ever. At that moment the room seemed to be glowing.
I reached out and grabbed his hands,
“I love you, I have always and will always. I don’t want to give us up, I never have. We’ve been together for too long to go back to being lonely and I’d be an idiot to pick loneliness over you.”
I looked at him the whole time watching his expression with every word. I look through the tears in my eyes at him and when I feel him squeeze my hands in his the tears spill over all over again.
“You are the only girl who has had my heart for years. I’ve never debated giving it to anyone else. I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I’ll get us back to the good place where we were before. Even if something has to change I don’t care as long as we are the only thing that doesn’t.”
His words were exactly what I wanted and needed to hear, enabling my tears to keep falling down my face but now out of pure happiness, the pure bliss of us finally back to one another. We were finally back to being us.
I pull him towards me by the nape of his neck, foreheads resting against each other. With our lips brushing,
“I love you” I whisper to him.
He lovingly smiles back.
“I have always loved you too.”
And those were the only words I ever needed to hear from him.
i hope you’ll tell me first don’t cry no more if your heart can see me don’t cry no more
He pulls me onto his lap, legs dangling over his. I bury my head in his chest, my arms wrapping around his strong torso. His arms pull me into a tight embrace, one that signifies neither of us is about to go anywhere.
“Now stop crying, baby.” He teases me, the only evidence of his tears is the red in his eyes.
“I can’t they won’t stop now.” I giggle out past my sobs.
“It’s okay now, we know our feelings are on the same page.”
i’ll go to you first at the end of a different road i’ll wipe your cheeks that are wet with tears and ask you
“Now we just need to figure out where to start where do we go from here,” he continues as he holds my face again as he did hours ago but now the gesture felt completely different as he used his thumbs to wipe my cheeks that were wet with tears, I look into those dreamy coffee coloured eyes of his as I listen to the next words that came out of his bitter coffee flavoured lips that I can already taste,
“Tell me what to do”
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sunjaesol ¡ 17 hours ago
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soljae | final timeline, angst, comfort, canon divergence | prompt: transformation
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
Ryu Sunjae was pretty sure he lost his mind.
He confessed his feelings to the scriptwriter of a movie he refused to participate in, he felt irrational amounts of anger towards a police officer, got nauseous each time a taxi drove by in narrow streets, and—most importantly—he felt like he stepped out of his own body multiple times a day.
It was akin his soul drifting above his body, watching his walk and talk, but feeling totally removed from it all. Instead, his soul yearned for something different. Something beyond his reach—beyond the scope of this universe.
Which was insane. Hence the losing of his mind.
It had to be exhaustion, Sunjae reasoned. He walked the streets of the bustling financial district, hands stuffed in his long, black coat. He hoped that walking here would ease his mind. Among the skyscrapers that loomed impossibly high, a person came to rational thought.
Sunjae sighed as a headache grew right behind his eyes. He pinched his nose. That also happened now: headaches, bordering on migraines, which he never suffered from in the past.
It all started because of that damned script landing in his lap. It was cursed.
His hand moved up to rake through his hair. Focus, he told hlmself. Focus on what he knew was real for sure. He knew he was thirty-two, a B-list actor, that his dad owned a restaurant. His mother passed away when he was ten. He swam competitively as a teenager. He has lived in Seoul his whole life.
The facts repeated themselves in his brain, again and again. But when he tried to dig deeper, he was stumped. Like slamming into a glass door, seeing that there was something, but the door was lcoked.
And then there was that damned song replaying in his head like a jingle. A ballad, to be specific, with lyrics he never heard of and a voice he recognised as his own. But Sunjae didn't sing; he hadn't picked up a microphone since his last year of high school.
Another wave of pain spiked behind his eyes and Sunjae groaned. His stride faltered and he lost balance. His hand shot out to lean against the frontage of a building.
What was going on with him?! His head was going to explode at this rate!
His eyes snapped shut to try and force the pain away.
"Ahjussi, are you alright? Do you need help?"
Cracking open one eye, he was met with a small, young girl that couldn't be older than thirteen. Her brows were furrowed in concern, one hand gripping her bookbag and the other a rolled-up, yellow umbrella.
Sunjae froze.
A rolodex of memories flickered by in place of the headache. Flashes of moments he didn't experience nor remembered but felt so intensely that his chest hurt. He doubled over, grabbing his torso, and the startled girl ran off.
Colours blurred and shifted together in a kaleidoscope to create the shapes of people and things. Pink lemonade in a sunlit park, a staggering bike under the moonlight, a ferris wheel, a necklace, a packed stadium with thousands of lightsticks shining at him, a bridge on a cold night, a video rental store, a yellow umbrella.
And her. Continuously, always revolving around and involving her.
Im Sol.
Sol-ah.
Sunjae gasped for air. Without realising, he had dropped on his haunches and was using his hands to steady himself against the pavement. His eyes were burning, his head feeling like his brain was about to escape.
It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible.
But his heart sang a different story. All these moments... were his own. Though not of him right now, but someplace else, some time else. His body and heart and mind, but different.
And Im Sol, the scriptwriter, was part of all these moments.
Feet pounded the pavement towards him. It was a police officer. The girl must've alerted the man after he doubled over.
He stretched out his arm in protest. "I'm fine, I'm fine!"
The police officer peered down at him, worried. "You shouldn't be sitting here if you're sick, Sir. Go home, yeah?"
Sunjae huffed. "I'm not... I'm not sick. I'm..." His words wavered, halting in his throat, and a tortured sob came out instead. Just like that, hot tears streamed down his face.
More memories intruded that blurred his vision and made the officer indistinguishable. Terrible amounts of grief sliced through his chest with each vignette of himself dying in different universes. He died. Again and again. Always young.
And finally, the rolodex ended on its final card. A tableau of himself as a teenager, frozen in awe, as a young Sol sprints towards him with cherry blossoms cascading from the trees.
"S-Sir...?"
Groaning, Sunjae used the wall to get back on his feet. He wiped his tears with a rough hand, but it was no use: they just kept coming.
"I need to go," he croaked. "I need to..." find Sol. Confront Sol. Explain everything to Sol. Hug Sol. Kiss Sol. Touch Sol. Make sure Sol doesn't die. Love Sol.
Before the officer could get another word out, Sunjae ran off. Where to, he wasn't sure, but at this point he trusted his heart to point him in the right direction.
There were nine million people in Seoul, but all of his paths have always led to Sol.
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darlingshane ¡ 18 hours ago
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Let's pretend it's 1996
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Duncan Carmello x F!Reader
Summary: You've always wondered how things would have turned out between you and Duncan if you didn’t break up. It takes 10 years for you to see him again at your High School reunion. This night brings a lot of bittersweet moments between you and him, and you can't help but wonder if after all this time you could make this work again.
CW: fluff, crack, light angst, regrets, memories, exes, high school reunion, drinking, singing, kissing.
Word Count: 3,8k
A/N: This fic is set in 2006, the year the show was released. Duncan never dated Nicole, instead he was with reader. Also, I'm not a lyricist so forgive my cheesy ass song that I wrote for Duncan, but I know this is something he'd write.
— Links: AO3 // Masterlist
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After sitting down at the table, you start bobbing your head to the sound of Car Fire, the band playing live, led by none other than Duncan Carmello—your ex. They've taken the stage to kick off the party, while the stragglers keep arriving.
Your friend Pam has left you alone momentarily to procure a couple of drinks. In that time, you've found yourself caught in a web of memories about your Duncan that trace all the way back to high school. It's in this very same gym you're in where you cheered for him from the bleachers when he played basketball. The very same place where you dance together during prom, and you couldn't imagine life with anyone other than him. And now it hosts your 10 Year High School reunion. You promised yourself that you'd never attend any of these cheesy events, but Pam convinced you to come along. She’s in the organization committee, and she was very adamant on you being here tonight.
Pam sets your glass of wine on the table right in front of you, and gets close to your ear to say something over the music playing, “you're staring.”
“What?” you slowly pick up your glass and bring it up to your lips.
“Tell me that you're not still pinning for that asshole.”
“I am not pinning,” you scoff and take another sip to swallow the lie. “I’m remembering. Remembering is not pinning.”
“Tell that to your face.”
You've always wondered how things would have turned out between you and Duncan if you didn’t break up. You were high school sweethearts, the ones that every thought they'd be together forever. But fate had different plans. You wanted to become a journalist, had your mind set on going to college on the other side of the country, and that put a strain on your relationship. Distance was not kind, and a year later there was no more you and Duncan. The last time you saw him was that summer, when you came back and everything went to hell. You haven't seen him in person since. You’ve seen him in pictures that your old classmates have on Facebook, but you never thought of reaching out, despite him being on your mind more often than not.
All the relationships you had after Duncan didn't work out, and it was solely on you. You could never bring yourself to love anyone when he was still a constant presence in your heart and mind. It’s something that you probably never got over, which is kind of pathetic considering he was the one who couldn’t overcome his issues about your long distance relationship. You should hate him, but you never did. You never could. All his concerns were valid, but you were too focused on getting your degree and traveling all over, something you’ve dreamed of since before you met him. And he felt like he wasn’t part of that. He had his life here and wasn’t willing to consider moving away, even if it was just for trying. The pressure was on you to make it work, and it made you feel like a failure for not doing your best to fix the situation. That’s why he was an asshole. He was just a kid, people would say… but so were you. There was too much you had planned for your future to throw away for him. He could've met you halfway, but because he was so damn stubborn that it all ended in a bitter note that left an aftertaste in your throat for years to last. This is mainly the reason you didn't want to come here today. You know it'd be hard to ignore everything you've put in boxes in the farthest corners of your mind. Now, the dust has cleared, lids are open, and you can't bring yourself to close them again.
This evening, he's singing all the songs he wrote in high school, which you remember every lyric to. You're the sole owner of two copies of the one and only album they ever recorded. One of those he gave to you, it came with a special dedication at the back. And a second one you bought to support the band. They're both in an old box labeled ‘Don't open’ that contains everything that you collected from that past relationship and that you've always been unable to get rid of that sits in the back of your closet.
You try to think about all the horrible things he said to you the last time you talked face to face in an attempt to put him out of your mind; but to be honest, it felt like such a surreal conversation you're not sure if it happened or not. You're not the one to hold grudges and yes, he was just a kid, who had just turned 19, and it'll be really petty of you to hold onto that forever.
As the short performance comes to an end, Pam leaves again to set up the next activity at the stage. Music starts playing from a playlist now as you wander around to pick up some appetizers from the buffet table to stuff your face with. Then you meet your colleagues from the school paper that are all gathered at the bar. You have a couple of drinks and a few laughs while catching up with them and everything that's going on with their lives.
Your social battery starts draining as your bladder keeps filling quickly. When you come out of the bathroom, you make a stop in the hallway to study the wall of memories of the class of 96 that holds a lot of moments frozen in pictures that you had forgotten. School events, trips, different clubs, yearbook portraits and personal pics of different groups of friends shine anew as if they were taken yesterday. They're all labeled by year, and the walk down memory lane ends with a graduation picture of the whole class. Your eyes travel back to a collection of snapshots dedicated to prom. There's one of Duncan where he's smiling proudly in his messed up tux after being crowned prom king. Another one of the two of you where he has put his crown on your head to share the win. He later on bought you a tiara, saying you were his only queen. Your heart sinks when you see a more intimate pic of you slowly dancing in his arms. You still remember what song was playing, how he smelled, how his hands caressed the exposed skin at your back. It seems to come alive for a second when you hear his voice behind you…
“I still think you should have been crowned that night.”
“I was a nerd. Haven't you heard? Nerds don't get to be prom royalty,” you say after swallowing the knot in your throat. You don't look back, you can't face him yet. Not this close.
“That's not true. Look at you, you were by far the most beautiful in that gym.”
“Well, it wasn't a beauty contest, either.” You sigh, staring at the most popular girl in school standing on stage with her crown next to Duncan.
“So, you're not going to turn around?”
“I don't think I can yet.”
“That's cool. Take your time.”
“You sounded good up there. I thought you guys went separate ways.” You fidget with your fingers, unable to move any other part of your body to look at him.
“We did. We just got the band together again.”
“You still got it.”
“You think so?” He still sounds so boyish when he says that.
“Hm-hmm.”
“I was hoping you'd come today.”
“Yeah? Why is that?” you keep your eyes glued to the pictures on the wall.
“Cause I needed to tell you that I didn't mean any of that shit I said when we broke up.”
“Duncan, you don't have to say anything. It's—”
“No. I do have something to say, cause I was a jackass. Thought that you deserved better than me. I knew if we stayed together, I'd hold you back. You were doing what you loved, and I'd have just gotten in the way so… I took the coward's way out. I thought that if you hated me, you'd just move on. Then it was too late when I realized that it was the biggest mistake I've ever made. I need you to know that.”
Listening to him opening that old wound makes your eyes well up, but you manage to reel those in.
“I tried to hate you,” you say. “Never could. Even when it hurt, even when I couldn't move on… I couldn't bring myself to hate you.”
It's then that you finally gather the courage to shift in your heels and face him.
“Hey.”
“Hey, you,” the way his lips curve up at the corners is utterly disarming. “I didn't think you'd talk to me.”
You shrug, “I didn't think so either. But here we are.”
“Here we are,” he echoes. “You look great.”
“You do, too.” And he does. Up close, you can see he's really grown up into his own with his simple dark suit and unbuttoned black shirt. “Look at you. You're wearing a suit, and you've gotten rid of that horrible mullet.”
“Yeah,” he laughs sheepishly, scratching the back of his nape, messing up his shaggy curls. “Would you have a drink with me?”
“Hmm,” you pause and try to decide whether that it's something that you'd like to do right now. “I don't think that's a good idea.”
“Why? Did you come here with anyone?”
“No, I just don't have anything else to say to you.”
“Are you still mad at me?”
You shake your head. “Whatever happened all these years ago is all water under the bridge, Duncan. You said what you wanted to say. I don't think it'd be healthy to sit down and keep rehashing the past.”
“Oh, I get it, you're scared.” He says with a teasing tone.
“I'm not scared.” You scoff, crossing your arms tightly against your stomach.
“No? You look terrified right now, hotshot.”
“I'm not.”
“Are so.”
“I'm not”
“Are so.”
“What, are we in school?” You bring a stop to it.
“Well, we are in a high school.”
You both stare at the other and break into laughter.
Duncan tucks both hands in his pockets and shrugs like he used to, biting his bottom lip with a smile before trying again.
“C'mon, let me buy you a drink for old times.”
“I think drinks are free.”
“Even better.”
“So I'm a cheap date now.”
“Hey, I didn't say anything about a date.” Duncan starts walking backwards, heading to the gym doors. “I'll be at the bar. Come. Don't come. It's up to you.”
You watch him disappear behind the big doors that clank upon closing. The music buzzing behind them temporarily comes to stop, and you hear murmurs in its place. You step closer to see through the window that Pam is taking the stage to inform everyone with mic in hand that games would start soon before letting the music resume. You look to the side to get a glimpse of Duncan taking a seat at the bar. Against your own wishes, your hands push the door open and let your feet zero in on his direction.
His face lights up when he sees you. He raises his glass up to you. “Look who decided to join me. I knew you couldn't resist.”
“Please, don't flatter yourself. I just needed a place to sit,” you say, parking your ass on the free bar stool beside him. “These heels are killing me.”
The waiter comes over, and you order another glass of wine while you watch Duncan go over a booklet left on the bar with the necessary information of all the attendees from the Class of 96.
“Is this true? You live in New York now?” Duncan shows up your page with your bio, and two pics of you side by side, one from your teen years and a recent one you send to Pam to assemble the class book.
“Hm-hmm.”
“And you write for a surfing magazine, huh?”
“Surfing magazine? What are you talking about? It’s called Surfeit. It has nothing to do with surfing.”
“I know,” he scoffs, “I was just messing with you.”
“Were you now?” You squint at him.
“Yeah, I gotta confess I’ve known for a while. I subscribed to that thing a few months ago.”
“Get out of here.”
“No, it’s true. I know you’re one of the founders. I’ve read all your pieces, I particularly liked the one about the invasion of the cum trees. It was fascinating.”
“Yeah? You think that one will put me on the right track for a Pulitzer?” You chuckle before taking a sip from your glass. “So, you’ve been keeping tabs on me.”
“Just recently.” He puts down the booklet and lifts his beer to his lips.
“Just recently? Why would you do that now?”
“Why?” he sighs. “I don’t know, I guess I missed talking to you. I found one of your articles online a few months ago, and it felt like I was hearing your voice when I read it, so I started looking for more, and I found Surfeit and I got most of them in the mail— It’s kinda pathetic, isn’t it?”
You balance your head side to side, measuring which side you lean on. “I think it’s sweet. I like this new side of you.”
“Which side?”
“You’re honest. Well, I suppose you always were, for the most part, but I used to have to pry words out of you when we weren’t talking about music, sports, or video games. I like that you offer them now without me asking, and that you’re capable of reading anything that didn’t come from a Playboy. I don’t think you were our target audience when we started the magazine, but I’ll take it.”
Biting his bottom lip, he looks down for a beat. “Okay, now it’s your turn to share something pathetic you’ve done to level the scales.”
“Hmm, I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Cause I’m pretty sure I’d win, and you’d laugh at me.”
“C’mon, I promise I won’t laugh.”
Clearing your throat, you look down for a beat before confessing.
“You know, I was just thinking earlier, when you were playing on stage, about all the stuff I kept from you in a box and that I still have. All the mixtapes, the Car Fire albums, the tiara you bought me, all the anniversary presents… all the pictures… I’ve hauled them over several states. I took it by accident to London once. I just can't get rid of anything. I never look at what's inside, whatsoever. I don’t need to, but it's always there cause, you know… cause I’m a pathetic loser and I never got over you.”
You feel your face going numb as you finish saying that, and when you look at his eyes, you see that his smile has disappeared too. Is he pitying you? It’s the only thing you can read on his expression right now, and you instantly regret telling him that.
He opens his mouth to talk, but he takes too long to respond. And before he can say anything, you promptly stand up and try to head out the door.
Surfing the crowd, you bump into Pam.
“Hey, I was looking for you. Come on, games are starting. Sit down.”
“I was going to—” You point at the door with your thumb, but she doesn’t hear you. She grabs your arm and takes you to the tables where everyone is gathering.
Your weak protest attempt goes unheard by your friend, who leaves you alone once more to explain the first game on the microphone as someone else starts handing a sheet filled with trivia questions to everyone. They range from school-specific questions to 1996 pop culture. This is the last thing you wanna do right now, but you pick up a pen and start filling your answers without putting too much thought into them.
“Hi—” the high-pitched feedback from the microphone tears your eyes from the paper, and you find Duncan back on stage, strapping a guitar to his shoulder.
“I’m sorry I’m taking the stage again,” he says as the people from the organization committee start asking him to get down, with Pam fuming on the side.
“Actually, I’m not sorry. There’s someone here today and she… she opened her heart to me and I just stood there like an idiot cause I’m not good with words like she is. I… I thought I could say better with a song.”
You lock eyes with him instantly. You can see him swallowing the lump in his throat as he positions his hands on the guitar. He looks down at the strings for a beat before letting his fingers play the first chords. After a moment, his voice joins the melody in a mid-tempo rock ballad…
Your voice knocks down my own pride, All the things you wrote, all the things you shared. Sleepless nights, restless days. Guess I never figured out, How to let go, how to walk out.
Wish I had gone along, But baby, it’s too late now. If I could go back, I’d rewrite our last goodbye Instead of losing you that night.
There’s nothing like a fatal flaw, Caught up in my own fears and lies, I pushed you away, said you weren’t it. You walked away, I stayed right here Watching the years slip by.
Wish I had gone along, But baby, it’s too late now. If I could go back, I’d rewrite our last goodbye Instead of losing you that night.
And just for kicks, let’s pretend it’s 1996, We’re flying high, we’re back in that field The grass holding us up, watching stars collide.
Wish I had gone along…
Please tell me it’s not too late…
I’ll wait for you to say… baby, there’s still a chance.
The gym goes silent when the last chord fades away, and you can’t hear anything over the sound of your beating heart as you study every word sung in his song. You’re aware that all eyes are on you, expecting to see your next move, but you’re paralyzed in your seat.
Someone starts clapping, and the rest of the gym follow suit, breaking the spell you’re in.
You raise up from your chair and head out the door at a fast pace while the party resumes like nothing happened. You make it all the way to the courtyard and when you look back you see him following several yards behind, closely catching up.
Your feet come to a halt by the fountain, and you wait for him to face you.
“You know, you’re a liar,” you utter as he stops in front of you.
“All I said in that song was true.”
“No, you said you weren't good with words. I beg to differ.”
“You liked it?”
“Well, it wasn’t Bohemian Rhapsody, but it was good. It sounded like Oasis in their good years.”
“I mean, no one can beat Bohemian Rhapsody,” he snorts, shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging in true Duncan fashion.
“Did you really mean it? If you could take it back, would you? You think we would’ve made it?”
“I meant every word of it, sweetheart. I never wanted to be with anyone else. I don’t know if we would have made it. I’d like to think that in another universe we did… You said you kept everything and I just choked up cause I did the same thing. I could never let you go, you know?”
“So, we’re just two wallowing assholes that couldn’t pick up the phone in 10 years?”
“Guess we are.”
“What do we do now?” You ask, folding your arms against your stomach.
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
“I’m not the same person you remember, Duncan. We can’t just pick it up like nothing happened.”
“I don’t think I am, either. Maybe we could just stay in contact and see where that goes?” He takes out a hand out of his pocket that comes with a cell phone attached to his fingers. “Here, put your number in there.”
“It's funny,” he says as you pick it up from his hand and start typing your number in his contacts.
“What's funny?”
“Us being here, standing on the same spot where I first asked you out.”
You gaze away from the phone for a second. “Right, I didn't notice that. What was it? Homecoming?”
“That's right.”
When you're done saving your number, you call yourself to have his number registered on your end and give it back with a warning look, “don’t make me regret this.”
“I won’t. I give you my word.” Duncan purposely clutches his fingers softly around your hand when reaching for the phone. He uses his opposite hand to caress the shape of your knuckles.
The familiar touch makes your hair stick out, your breath gets caught in the knot of your throat, wrapped in a layer of regrets and unsaid words. There’s an I love you trying to force its way out, but you don’t let it. You can’t. It’d be ridiculous if you did. Instead, you step closer and cup his face. He lets out a sigh, preparing for what’s coming as your face shortens the distance. The same magnetic pull that brought you to him the first time over ten years ago takes hold of you as you capture the warmth of his lips in a tender kiss. His hands, driven by that same force, smoothly travel to your waist to hold you closer against him. You sway with the gentle breeze as you allow your lips to move with his to the sweet rhythm of that song that still lingers in the way his tongue delves past your lips. As you're drawn into the depth of his mouth, you curl your arms around his neck in a tight lock as one of your hands slides into the back of his hair. He moans in your mouth as a reaction to your fingers massaging his scalp. It’s easy to get lost in that moment and forget how to breathe as your lips ache for more, for all those missed years of kisses, you suddenly feel fused with him making up for all that lost time.
You’re not sure who pulls back first, perhaps it’s both.
He’s just as breathless as you are when your lips part and your foreheads meet instead.
“Wow,” he says under a shallow breath.
“Yeah, wow,” your lips draw a smile.
“Do you wanna go back inside?”
You shake your head. “I like it here.”
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— Credits: beautiful divider by @firefly-graphics
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the-thieves-gambit ¡ 13 hours ago
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Sighing, she shook her head at the teasing. While she knew that his family loved her, she still felt a need to prove it in ways she could. She knew it was unnecessary, his mother had even told her so herself. But there would always be a part of her that wanted to feel like it was earned. That their love was deserved. It was something she'd keep working at but that was an issue for another day. “Someone sounds a little jealous.” The sing song tone that she said the words showed that it was just a joke. "If someone needs help, I'll help, its what family does, right?" It was still strange to consider his family as hers but they had become it.
"You're so dramatic." She chuckled about his assessment of her drink choice. Hazel took him in for a moment, wanting to say something about the stress he had been under but decided to let it go. "Muffin sounds nice." Giving him a smile, she raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You know you’ve mentioned this adventure book for so long, I have yet to see it. I’m starting to think, it simply does not exist.”
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Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth and rolling her eyes, she always found herself doing that when he'd bring up things that she once would never do. Only to find herself doing those things with him. "Yeah. yeah." She said with a hint of laughter in her tone as they made their way up to order. "In all honesty I guess that's been the normal since meeting you. Flipping everything I know upside down." Placing their orders and making their way over to the side to wait for their order, she kissed his cheek. "I'll be back I'll be in and out promise," she said as made her way to the store.
Inside, she walked past all the snacks and straight to what she wanted, the novel in the window that she had intended to read but something kept coming up. She would be able to read it now, no interruptions while on the long plane ride. There was something about being able to buy books and keeping them that filled her with a glee that she didn't think was possible. Having always traveling, she never bothered to buy them for keeps. Each time she had picked one up, she knew she'd have to donate it once she was done with it since she didn't have a home. Didn't have a place to collect the things that meant something to her because she would need to leave. Not anymore.
With a smile, she made her way to the register to pay for it when something else caught her eye. An self of journals. Some with planes setting off, other with quotes from books she had read before (the ever famous lord of the rings one about wandering was prominent), but she found one, it almost resembled her fathers. Leather cover, small clasp on the front. Thinking about why this trip was about in the first place made her buy it with her book, it was time she started a new one for the new life, the new adventure that she was embarking on this time.
Making her way back to him with a wide smile on her face, taking the sight of him in. Her heart beat a bit faster, she was excited for it, nervous at the same time. "See, record time." Placing the bag with her purchases in her backpack before taking her coffee and linking her arm back into his. "Have I told you that there is a little elf village we could visit?" Part of her wanting him to like her birth place as much she had come to love it.
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"Trust, helping me helps my mom. No one wants to see crabby wally walking around." He didn't make an appearance as often as it did when he was younger and in his angsty teenage years but it was still pretty known. He could get crabby. Though for this he was clearly just teasing. "You do know they already love you right?" Wally couldn't help another tease. This was too easy now and vastly different than when he used to do it to her in the past but to no avail. That was like talking to a brick wall.
That was fair he thought as his eyes looked over at the menu. Most items were new which always made him wonder how many people actually bought the latest items right off the presses. "Your raspberry mocha sounds pretty good. The shot of sugar would definitely keep you up long enough to read a whole novel. Might also make you wired for the entire week." His eyes adjusted to the light and saw a muffin. Chocolate muffin sounded safe enough not to kill him. "How about we split that muffin?" Truth be told he wasn't hungry and though he knew he needed to eat, work and stress in general had his appetite hide. "That sounds like a safe option."
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Having her beautiful eyes on him made him turn to look at her. His smile warm and soft as he stopped himself from nuzzling her nose. Sometimes it was easy to forget people were around them. She pulled his focus in to forget anyone but her being in the room. "Me too, lila. Adding another adventure to our adventure book." His voice was soft when he spoke. "It took us awhile to finally get this trip together. And to think you said you'd never take me." His dramatic flare showed as he chuckled. "Totally flipped that upside down." His eyes fluttered making his emerald greens turn a deeper shade of green in the light before they reached the counter.
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michameinmicha ¡ 11 months ago
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for the ask-question:
My favorite songs right now are either "he is" by Ghost or "in a week" by hozier☺️☺️
Hi, thanks!
I dont know too many Ghost songs but he is has actually been a favourite for a while! another one i love is Circe
I checked out the hozier song too and i like it, i'll defo put it into my rotation :)
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spocksgotemotions ¡ 11 months ago
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so like to put kids down for nap I have one kid I read poems to and another kid I make up stories for. And lately the boy I read poems to has started like saying the lines along with me and the girl I make up stories for has started finishing my sentences (every story begins the same way and she knows it!!). And it’s like I tell my coworkers or people this and I’m super excited because not only are the kids being smart but it’s also like showing that I’m making an impact you know?
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