#starting this blanket was a mistake. it's all i can think of. it's been 4 days and its ruining my life.

[baileysturnz]

𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍? ❥ఌ

𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 1 𑁍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 2 𑁍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 3 𑁍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 4 𑁍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 5 𑁍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 6 𑁍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 7 𑁍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 8 𑁍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 9 𑁍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 10 𑁍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 11 𑁍 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 12

𓂸𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩

𝖬𝖺𝗍𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖠𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝖠𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗀𝖾𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 3 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗎𝗉 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾.

𑁍𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏, 𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗏, 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗁, 𝖿𝗎𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌, 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗌𝗌, 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 (𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭, 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺..), 𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥

𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚜 ❦

𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵: @kier-with-a-k @idrk2292 @mommymomm 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘤 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘺! ❥

𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚢 @bernardsbendystraws 𝚝𝚢𝚜𝚖!

 I didnt know where Matt was taking me. We were going to the country side? “Matt please tell me youre not a murderer and are kidnapping me”. i say and Matt laughs. “Dont worry, i wont kill you but i am taking you to a forest”. “Oh fuck”. when we got there it was a trail for hikers but Matt told me it looked better at sunset. so we eventually gathered the left over soda and pizza and some blankets to take with us.

 We walked a little further to the trail. We set everything up and i saw Matt lighting a cigarette. “You smoke now?”. I ask him. “Sometimes, not a lot”. Matt offers me. I take it, im not s smoker but ill never deny one once in a while. The sun was getting low and Matt started talking. “tell me something nobody knows about you”. i really think about it. “That I never regretted that night with you and even though of what happened i still dont think it was a mistake”. I say and take a hit of the cigarette. 

“once s girl told me she didnt regret her first time being with me, and i told her initially it was a mistake, i fucked up and i threw everything away, even if we stayed friends i always wonder what more we coulve been, what shoulve been us, im sorry Bows, i know I hurt you but i mean it, ive meant everyword i have said for the past week.”.

 “Matt-“ i say sniffing. Im cut off by Matt mouth strangling mine. I breathe out“matt, im sorry too”. “Dont be, you didnt do anything wrong” We go back to kissing. matts hands on my waist and my hands travelling from his hair to his chest. Our kiss got deeper, we were both laying on the blanket, Matt pinning me down. “Matt”. I say put of breathe as he starts kissing my neck. 

“I need you, please”. I say searching his face. His gaze held on mine as he starts to look for a condom in the mini van. He stands up and searches for it and curses underneath his breathe. “Shit, i dont have here”. “I say standing up. “So…” i say. “I can wait till we get home” i say as i move closer to Matt. “Fuck, im sorry princess i need you too”. He says as he pulls me against him by the waist. “lets get going then”. I say. We get in the car and i dont think ive ever seen matt drive that fast. 

When we got home, we went up the stairs kissing, until we heard voices. “Shit” I whispered. Matt and I got ourselves together and we walked up the stairs. We saw Nick and Chris sitting on the couch. “Hey guys” I say. “Hey, What did y’all do all day?”.. Nick asked. Matt responded “We went to have lunch and then we went to the mall”. “But you don’t have any bags” Chris started. “There was nothing pretty, so we didn’t buy anything”. “Oh okay”. Nick says. “Im going to head to sleep”. Chris says. “Yeah me too” Nick says. “Chris you sleeping in my room?”. Nick asks. “Yeah”. 

They both went up the stairs. Once we hear the door click shut. Me and Matt looked at each other, a huge smirk growing in his face. He took me in his hands and we started kissing. Matt backed up until my hips hit the table loudly. “Shit” Matt hissed. He grabbed my hand and led me to his room. Now in his room, he locked the door and pinned me against it. He starts to kiss my neck.

 His hands reach the hem of my sweater “Can I sweetheart?”. He asks. I nod and the sweater is thrown to the floor leaving me with my black lingerie bra. “Oh god Bows”, he mutters. “What? Like what you see?” I say in a sassy tone. “Don’t tempt me, baby you’ve seen what I can do”. I could feel the pool of heat being created in between my thighs. He takes my bra ooff and says “I can’t believe I’m seeing your fucking tattoo””. He starts kissing it. 

Then I start kissing him, his neck, his jawline. I reach the hem of his shirt, he helps me discard it to the floor. I start kissing his chest down, and down and then up to his mouth. He takes control over me again when he put a hand underneath my thigh and pushes my legs up around his waist, a groan comes out of his mouth.

 He kisses between my breasts and gently puts me down on the mattress. Matt starts kissing me from my mouth, to my neck, to my chest, to my stomach and finally stops at where my jeans waistband lies. He looks up at me, seeking permission. “Yes Matt” I say. He is fast at unbuttoning my pants and throwing them to the floor. Matt started to puts kisses to my clothed clit. 

I moan in need and want. “Please Matt”. I say. “You have to be patient Bows” I groan. He finally takes my panties off and starts pressing kisses to my inner thighs until he gets to my wet folds. He runs a finger through them, I moan. “So wet for me?” He asks with a smirk on his face. “MMaattt Pleaseeee” I whine. “Atta girl”. Matts mouth starts exploring my folds. i moan. 

“Shh we don’t want my brothers knowing how good I make you feel”. “Y-yes” I breathe out struggling to keep quiet. Matts mouth is replaced by his fingers. I moan louder, this time Matt doesn’t say anything, he just pulls up and starts kissing me to shut me up. “Mat-t I’m close”. I say. “Not yet baby, I haven’t even started”. Matt takes out his fingers and licks them clean, as I was reaching my climax. “Matt! Are you fucking kidding me?”. I whine sitting up. “You didn’t even let me finish!” I continue. “Well you’re gonna have to wait, because you’ll be coming when you’re riding me, so wait patienly” He grins and starts putting his pants down sitting in front of me. He lets out his length with precum on the tip. He grabs a condom puts it on and discards the wrapper. 

Matt opens up my legs and positions his tip infront of my folds. I moan and he groans as he thrusts. I can feel my walls clenching around the length of him. “Fuck” he breathes out as he thrusts a little faster and harder. “Fuck, Matt” I groan against him neck. 

He starts pressing kisses to my neck and he says “Come on baby” as he fucks me harder. I shriek as he abruptly changes positions by grabbing my hips and putting me on his lap, for me to ride him. I start to rock my hips harder and faster each time. “Oh god Matt” I scream loudly “Please Matt I’m so close” I moan. “Fuck Ally”. “Im coming-g” “Release for me sweetheart I’m right behind you.” We both become undone as our moans and breaths echo through the room. Breathing fast Matt kisses me and then below my ear 

“That was fucking amazing, Bows”. “It was” I say as I get out from his hold and lay back down on the bed. “Let’s get you cleaned up” He says standing up and grabbing a towel. He cleans my sensitive spot and cleans himself. He lays back down and puts his arms around my waist and kisses behind my ears. “Good night baby” he says turning of his lights. “Good night Matt”. I say turning to face him and kiss him.

𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗇𝗌

𝘣𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺❥シ

a/n: Hey yall!! I hope yall LOVED this oneeee. I think (idk) that ill be feeding my chris girls with my next blurb-tomorrow hopefully- AND how are we feeling about the grammys tday!! love yall and thank you so so much for reading 💗

[mothusband]

crochet is suppose to be calming or whatever but instead it's making me EVIL

[woniiez]

ᴛɪʟʟ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴇɴᴅꜱ | ₗ.ₕₛ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ. brothers bestfriend! heeseung x fem!reader

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ. You were sleeping when jay started banging on your door “y/n heeseung is gonna stay with us for the summer”. Lee heesung, your brothers best friend and the boy you’ve had a crush on since you saw him 5 years ago in your living room.

|| ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ. 4-6k (wrote this on my phone so i have no idea, tried to check it but it kept giving me different word counts)

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ. smut, brothers bestfriend.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ. nsfw! smut lmk if there’s anything else.

(hii this is the first fic I’ve ever written, I obviously have a long way to go lmao but I hope you like it. This was written with really less detail and not too many complications something simple I guess. There might be a few spelling mistakes or the paragraph formation is messed up so bear with me on that 🙏🏻. Since this is the first time I’ve written it’s not really fully “fic coded” you could say Ig but I’ll learn in time, it could be different writing wise from a proper fic.Anyways I hope you enjoy and if you have any questions regarding this or anything else lmk.)

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You’ve never really talked to Heeseung much. He comes over a lot but jay doesn’t let you hang out with them much, it doesn’t really bother you much but what did bother you was when jay started banging on your door to wake you up on a weekend at 8am to tell you “ Y/N!! Heeseung is gonna stay with us for the summer”

You couldn’t wait for summer break to come but now you’re grateful there’s still a week left.

you RAN to karina’s house which thankfully was next door. She was obviously still asleep.

“Karinaaa!! WAKE UPPP” you say while pulling the blinds up, “y/n it’s 8am please I haven’t slept all night” karina said while pulling the blanket over her face

“I need to tell you something. ” you looked at her with a very serious face waiting for her to sit up “yes y/n goodmorning to you too” you smiled at her and murmured goodmorning back “ok get this jay said Lee heeseung is gonna stay at ours for the summer..the WHOLE summer!” You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding. You waited for her to say something She looked at you like you ate her cat or something, she really is cranky in the morning “can you say something why are you looking at me like that” she took a breath in and out. Oh no u hate when she does that, it feels like she’s going to pounce on you “y/n..is this what you wanted to tell me so badly to wake me up at 8am on a Sunday?” She said in a calm and low tone. You just looked at her as u blinked slowly and nodded slowly, she wasn’t having any of it “y/n it’s not a big deal it’s just heesung and jay is best friends with him you literally see him everyday” well that was true but she didn’t know about the crush you had on him, you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell her.“This is gonna be a looongg summer” you thought to yourself.

It was the first day of summer.

As you woke up the golden sunlight peeked though your blinds, casting stripes across the room. Making you think “it’s finally summer” you smile to yourself. You yawn as you watch the dust particles flying around the window.

You threw your blanket away from you and went to freshen up exited for the summer. You tie your bikini around your hips and back, then throw on an oversized shirt and some jean shorts.

You walked down the stairs each step filled with excitement, thinking about everything you were gonna do this summer with karina, going to places we’ve never been or just hanging out in your backyard. You took a deep sniff smelling waffles from the kitchen. The smell of the batter, the sound of the waffle maker, and fresh maple. You ran to the kitchen to see jay cooking. You love your brothers cooking especially his waffles it’s something he only makes it in the summer. “Jayy you’re making waffles?!!!!???!” You said giggling

and grinning, doing a silly dance “when I met you in the summerrrrr~~” you sang as a smile spreads on jays face. He hums with you.

“Sit down y/n 5 minutes more” he said looking back at you raising his eyebrows. You were walking around the wall to sit on the counter and suddenly you saw heesung sitting on the chair “WHA-“ you were totally surprised and feeling like an idiot since you just sang and danced and HEESEUNG SAW YOU. You completely forgot he was supposed to be here.

You feel your cheeks heat up as you try to laugh the embarrassment off. You looked up at heeseung who was already looking at you up and down. With a slight smirk on his face he tilted his head to the side. “What’s up?”

he said. His tone is relaxed and raspy. You feel so small in his presence , you feel your cheeks burn and u look up at him “hey I heard you’re staying here for the summer”you say trying to relax your voice, you sit down on the chair next to him and look up at him waiting for an answer “mhm” that’s all he says. You think if you’re going see him the whole summer you need to get to know him better atleast. You tilt your head and ask,“Can I ask why?” Your eyebrows raise in curiosity and a gentle smile forms on your lips showing you’re genuinely interested, before he said anything jay came up to the counter and sets the waffles in front of you with a light frown he glances at you and says “y/n don’t bother him” his eyes meet yours and he slightly smiles. Heeseung takes a waffles and puts it on his plate, jay walks away to get the ice cream he looks over at you but you were already looking at him, you look away “im moving to New York after the summer cause of my dads work” he says,his tone relaxed. He shrugs, his eyes glancing away for a moment. “he’s already there so I’m staying here till I leave” he lets out a light laugh and takes a bite of the waffle. You look at him, your heart skipping a beat at the news. A mix of surprise and a touch of sadness washes over your face. “New York, huh? That’s a big change,” you say, trying to keep your tone light despite the flutter of emotions inside. You bite your lip, thinking about why you feel sad you barely know him?!. “Are you excited about it?” you ask, your eyes searching his, hoping to catch a glimpse of his feelings. He shrugs a bit. “I’m not really worried” he says nonchalantly. Not wanting to show too much emotion you take a bite of the waffle “oh okay” you said kind of sad but you think jay might be really sad since they’ve been best friends since they were 10.

It’s been about 2 weeks since you talked to heeseung. Even though you’re living together there’s not much interaction between you too, well there are moments when you’re going out in your prettiest clothes and he undresses you with his eyes. You try to ignore it as much as you can, you can’t betray jay like that no matter how much you want to right?

Eventually you decide invite Karina over and take a swim in the pool. The cool water feels refreshing, and the familiar scent of chlorine surrounds you, bringing a sense of comfort. As you float on your back, Karina asks you a shocking question “do you like heesung”she says looking at you with her eye brows raised and crossed arms. “Karin-“ you pause cause heesung is standing at the backyard door by the pool. Did he hear what she said? You’re just looking at him with a confused expression. Karina looks back and smirks to herself. You can’t help but say something,it’s getting awkward “hey Heeseung do u wanna swim?” You ask, Karina noticed how your voice sounds way different from when you both talk. He scratches the back of his neck and says “yea can I?” Looking between Karina and you. You try to communicate with Karina through your eyes “ofc you can” she says with a smirk on her face as she looks at you, you look at her with a confused face as you raise your eye brow asking what she was doing. Heeseung walks towards the pool and slowly with a confidence smirk he pulled off his shirt, his toned body revealing itself to you. You flinched at the sight, you thought how it would feel if he was on top of you and you touch his toned abs..

Suddenly water hit you and you fell of your floaty into the water “what the hell!” You looked at Karina thinking she did that but you heard deep chuckles coming from the side, it was Heeseung “sorry didn’t mean to do that, just diving” he shrugs and looks you up and down like he’s ready to undress you “oh yeah btw there’s a party here tonight” he said. You looked at him in confusion since your parents are home. He continues “oh um jay told me to tell you, your parents have to go to a wedding” you tell him you’re going inside to talk to your mom and jay. You get up and wrap yourself in a towel, by now you think heesung has a staring problem.

You take a shower, change and head down with Karina.

You see jay helping your mom pack you walk into the room “mom where are you going” you ask since everyone knows except you.

“Y/n honey me and your dad have a wedding to attend it’s in the next town so we’ll be back in the morning” you tell her to be safe, you look at Karina and smile looking forward to the party. “Jay take care of y/n and don’t do anything stupid” she looks between you and jay, you put your hands up.

As soon as your parents leave jay picks up his phone and starts calling people over. Since it is your last year why not have a party.

You walk up to jay as he’s wearing his watch he looks over at you “soo who did you invite” you ask out of curiosity since he didn’t tell you about the party which is in YOUR house. He looks at you smiling “anyone and everyone” he winks. You wonder what’s gonna happen tonight your head already hurts. You weren’t really into parties, just going if your friends invited you or when you need to get your mind off something. But tonight it’s someone. Jay looks at you thinking to yourself and says “y/n I’ll keep an eye out for you tonight” you already know what that means. Jay isn’t much of an over protective brother but when it comes to his friends or guys in general getting involved with you, he hates it. Since they’re not someone he fully trusts.

As you get ready in your room, the sounds of the party downstairs filter through the door. Muffled laughter and music. Making your heart race with anticipation. You can hear the clinking of glasses and the cheerful chatter. As you finish your final touches, someone knocks on your door “come in!”

You look at the door as it opens and it’s heeseung hes wearing a black Prada button up with black pants he looks. Your heart skips a beat you blink, he stands there effortlessly attractive. You can’t help but admire his face shape the way his body fits in his clothes, how his jawline is shaped perfectly his eyes are captivating.

Closing the door behind him he walks towards you with a knowing smirk leans down to your ear and whispers “baby you’re staring”. You’re taken aback, you take a step back but he still walk towards you. “I think you’re the one with a staring problem hee” you say fixing the collar of his shirt, he’s chuckles shocked by the sudden nickname and confidence. He presses you again your closet behind you and he slowly puts his thumb over your lips. Before he can do anything else the door opens and you push him away.

It’s jay he looks between both of you “uhm Lee let’s go Jake’s calling you” he says while looking at you. You feel trapped not knowing what to do. Heeseung winks at you secretly and heads back down. Jay raises his eye brow “y/n what the fuck don’t you remember what I told you” he says in a low and angry voice though you can tell he’s hurt. You try to say something with your heart racing, you try to scan jays face but he just walks away.

You walk down after fixing your lipstick. You spot Karina with some of your old classmates and join them.

The party is in full swing when you find yourself in the kitchen, pouring drinks for your friends. Suddenly, Heeseung appears beside you, leaning against the counter with that trademark smirk. “Need any help?” he asks, his voice low and teasing. You nod, trying to ignore the way your stomach flips at his proximity.

As the night progresses, the atmosphere becomes more charged. Laughter and music fill the air, but you can’t shake the feeling that something is about to change. You catch Heesung watching you from across the room, his gaze intense, and you feel a pull toward him that you can’t resist.

Later, as the party continues, you find yourself in a quieter corner of the house, away from the noise. Heeseung follows you, the tension between you crazy. “It’s crazy how we’re both here together,” he says, stepping closer. The air feels thick with unspoken words, and before you know it, he puts his hand on your waist leaning in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss.

Your heart races as you kiss him back, the kiss getting deeper. The world around you fading away. You know you shouldn’t be doing this, but it feels too right to stop. Just as the kiss deepens, you hear your brother laughing, pulling you back to reality.

You break apart, breathless, and heesung looks at you with a mix of desire and uncertainty. “We can’t do this baby,” he whispers, but the way he looks at you says otherwise. The party goes on, but in that moment, everything changes. You kiss him again and deepen the kiss.

As you pull away from the kiss, your heart races,his forehead on yours. You glance toward the living room where the party is still in full swing. You can hear your brother laughing with friends, completely unaware of the moment that just unfolded between you and heesung.

“Maybe we should go back,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, still feeling the warmth of his lips on yours. Heeseung nods, but there’s still hesitation in his eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asks, searching your face for confirmation. His hands go up and down your waist. The last thing you both want to do is betray jay, but you can’t help it after liking him for so long.

“I don’t know,” you admit, biting your lip. “But we can’t let anyone see us like this.” You take a step back, trying to regain some composure, but heesung reaches out, gently pulling you back toward him.

“Then let’s keep it our little secret for now,” he suggests, a mischievous glint in his eyes. His hands back on your waist moving upwards. You nod, the thrill of secrecy making your heart race even faster. You both go back into the party agreeing on keeping this a secret.

As the night progresses, you and heeseung have moments together, glances across the room, whispered conversations in corners, and the occasional touch that sends sparks through your body. The chemistry between you is undeniable, but you’re also acutely aware of your brother’s presence, and the potential consequences of your actions.

At one point, you find yourselves outside on the patio, where the sounds of the party fade into the background. The night sky is dotted with stars, and the cool breeze contrasts with the heat radiating between you.

“Do you think he’d be mad?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Heeseungs expression softens as he considers your question.

“I don’t know,” he replies honestly. “But I don’t want to hide this if it means something.” His words send a thrill through you, you’ve wanted heesung for such a long time but the thought of your brother’s reaction hangs in the back of your mind.

As everyone starts leaving it’s already 2am and jay is extremely drunk. You ask heesung to put him to bed.

You’re sitting in on your bed still wearing your black mini dress when the door opens and closes with a bang. It’s heesung he’s charging towards you suddenly he gets on top of you. You’re just looking into his eyes looking for something but they’re just filled with desire. As you’re about to say something he puts his lips on yours capturing them into a kiss.

It starts of slow, he sits against the headboard and you climb on top of him, your knees on the sides of his thighs. He pulls you in again for a deep kiss, he puts his hands on your waist tightening them. They way yours and his lips are moving next to each other feels unreal, he pulls you even closer towards him, you release low moans now needing him as close as possible. As the kiss gets heated you feel his tongue licking your self asking to go in, you let his tongue enter and explore your mouth he groans. He puts his hand on your zipper, you look at him and nod.

He quickly takes it off and looks at your perky boobs “so fucking sexy baby” he looks like he wants to eat you. You gasp when he takes one of your nipples in his mouth “hee-“ and swirls his tongue around,he gives the other one attention aswell taking it in his hands god. His hand goes down to your clothed core as he starts rubbing over it. “Hee please” you cried out, “please what pretty, say it” he whispered

You moaned and squirmed against his hard cock, making him hiss “baby u need to stop moving”.

He laid you against your back and started placing kisses all over your neck and breasts making you breathe heavily. As he placed kisses all over your body he reached your wet core. He took his shirt off revealing his toned body you started kissing him everywhere until It all went too fast when you suddenly felt a hot wet sensation licking your pussy slow. Your eyes rolled back, feeling hee’s tongue going deep in your pussy and sucking on your bud. Your moans could no longer be held back, letting them out freely for everyone to hear.

“H-hee ah- wait!” You cried out feeling your orgasm coming faster than you thought since it’s been 2 minutes. Heeseung didn’t stop, feeling your pussy tighten and open and before he knew it too, his tongue was getting covered by your juices. He licked his lips while looking at you, you thought you could look at him like this forever.

As he takes his pants off with his underwear you look at him surprised at how big he is. You gulped.

Heeseung notices your expression and smirks “you ready baby?” You nod aggressively not wanting to wait another second.

He kissed you everywhere complimenting every little thing, he leaned over and positioned his dick at your whole and slowly pushed it in. “HEE! Fuck” you moan, he thought you looked so pretty with your mascara running down your face because of him.

“Fuck baby you’re so tight” he groaned

You let out a ragged breath feeling him in you. He felt so big and you felt so full. Heesung looked at you asking if he could move “u-h you can move” heeseung nodded and moved slowly watching your face as you roll your eyes back in pleasure.

That’s when he started moving faster, you both were a moaing mess. Panting against each other.

Heeseung groaned feeling you squeeze against him, he could feel his orgasm coming.

You felt your orgasm coming as he went in and out “f-uck hee im cu-ming” you moaned and closed your eyes as it came over.

Heeseung thrusting in deeper while you got off your high. He let out a raspy laugh.

You both were breathing heavily after he came and laid down with you. “that was-“ you said panting

“great. “ heeseung looked at you and kissed you once more before he got up and got a towel from the bathrooms and cleaned you up before laying back down.

“Hee?” You said laying down on his arm. “Yeah baby?” He pulled you closer under the blanket “when will you leave for New York?” You said. Your voice not above a whisper, he looked at your sad expression and put a strand of hair behind your ear “I told my dad already im not leaving”he said. You sat up holding the blanket to your chest, “wait really?!” You said smiling so big it hurt. “Yea. “ he said. Hugging you tightly. “I love you hee” you said looking into his sparkly eyes as u pecked him on the cheek “I love you too baby”. He kissed you back.

The sun was out ask you opened your eyes, you rubbed your eyes the memories of last night came flooding back into your mind and you couldn’t believe that actually happened. A smile crept onto your face.

You felt heeseung holding you tightly by the waist. You shifted to look at him, he looked so pretty while sleeping as well. You started tracing his lips and his nose even his eyes. He started blinking and smiled “goodmorning” he said, his morning voice so raspy and attractive. “Morning” you giggled and put your face into his neck.

You suddenly pulled back hearing your door open. “y/n wake uppp!” It was jay.

He stood there looking at both of you naked under the blanket.

He started blinking in disbelief.

Heeseung tried to cover you with his body which made you laugh.

You totally forgot you were in the same house as jay through all that.

Jay just walked out. You looked at heeseung confused why jay didn’t punch anyone. You and heesung got dressed and went down to the kitchen to talk to jay.

You both sat on the chairs in front of the counter where jay was making breakfast.

You started “jay uh.. can we talk” you felt like you’ve betrayed your brother big time, your mind had a lot of things to say but you need to tell him the truth first.

Jay looked back at you with his eye brows furrowed he nodded letting you know to go on but before you could heeseung started talking “look man im sorry it happened this way, I never wanted to hurt you or y/n” he lets out heavy breathing.

You could see how hard this is for heeseung because this is his only one friendship he cares about.

Jay looks at him very angrily “if you didn’t want to hurt me you shouldn’t have done this” he said in a higher voice as he crossed his arms. You felt bad for heeseung for getting the blame “jay it’s not his fault I also wanted too” you say searching jays eyes for something but they were just empty “y/n I know and that’s what I hate more, I told you so many times not t-“

You didn’t let him finish and told him the truth. “I love him” you say.

Heesung hold your hand and jay looks at heesung for an answer. “I love her aswell” Heeseung says in a very straightforward and sincere tome. Jay turns his back, you both give him some time to think. He turns back and sets breakfast up he glances over to both of you “Heeseung you better treat her right or she’ll have to witness your funeral” jay said while smiling as he hugged heesung. You looked at Jay with a smile “im sorry and thank you” you hugged him back.

In the evening you invited Karina over for a barbecue your dad was hosting. You told her everything.

She was really happy for you.

After the barbecue ended all of you jumped into the pool.

Heeseung pulled you to him and gave you a peck on your lips he whispered “I love you” you giggled and splashed water on him.

————————————————————

© won!!ez , 2024. do not copy, steal my stories

[fullonfandomindulgence]

please clic for larger images, tumblr compression made these look all blurry. id below the cut

here i am still making mp100 comics in april of 2024. its just such comfort food. im highly normal about mob and tomes friendship

ID: three pages of black and white comics about Mob and Tome from the anime Mob Psycho 100.

panel 1: a leg and an arm extend from out of panel so that the hand on the arm can tie the shoe on the leg. lying on the ground is the other shoe, a cell phone, a keyring, and a polka dot carrying case. on the carrying case rests a sphere with a strange pattern on it. in the top right it says "January."

panel 2: a figure (its tome) pulls on a jacket. visible in front of her are a cabinet and a wall-mounted rack, all messy.

panel 3: with a door in the background, a closeup of tomes hand on her flipphone. the screen says "dialing."

panel 4: tome shrugs on her jacket and, holding her phone against her ear with her shoulder, smiles and says, "Oy, Mob! It's Saturday! Let's go telepath-hunting!"

panel 5: ritsu and mob sit on a blanket on the floor in front of a bookshelf. a little "pause" label extends from off-panel. both of them are holding controllers. ritsu leans against his hand, looking bored, as mob holds his cellphone to say "Hi Tome. Didn't we already find a telepath?" tome responds, "Oh, right."

panel 6: tome and mob dont really know what to say next. they both look cartoony and stupid. "..."

panel 7: tome, looking pained, curls a hand in the air in front of her and says, "Do you want to... walk around the city? Pointlessly?" mob says, "Sure, I guess that's what we normally do."

panel 8: tome looks mad. "No! We walk pointedly! In the direction of telepaths!" she points, pointedly. mobs eyebrows go a little down as he scratches at his face. "It's pretty funny that you were looking for so long when Takenaka was right next to you. For months. And then he left because you were too weird."

panel 9: tome, opening her front door, says, "Y'know what, Mob, maybe I'll invite him instead." Mob says "That's a good idea. Let's see if he can come with us."

panel 10: now exiting onto the walkway in front of her apartment, tome says, looking excited, "Actually I have been investigating something new. We should look for a haunted house!" mob thinks to himself, "Sounds like work..."

panel 11: mob looks skeptical and asks, "In the city?" tome responds, "Yep." behind mob, ritsu unpauses the game (ssb brawl) and starts thrashing mob (ritsu mains lucas, mob mains kirby)

panel 12: tome walks down the stairs of her apartment building to a concrete sidewalk with a row of trashcans nearby. she says, "My first guess is that new shaved ice place on 5th street." mob responds, "Oh." tome says "It's an old building! I think it's haunted!"

panel 13: mob, contented, says, "Okay. I'll meet you at the train station." pleased, tome responds, "Excellent!" ritsu looks back at mob with a mean smile on. the tv screen says "GAME!"

panel 14: mob yells, "Ritsu! What the heck!" tome, at a stoplight, replies, "Sure, he can come too." she presses the walk signal button. "BIP."

End ID.

making this comic i learned that you cant just put masking tape over your mistakes and re-ink on top of it bc the masking tape looks too dark when its scanned in. i guess ill just have to warm up more and be more deliberate when i ink like some kinda loser. or i could become truly insane and start gluing on little pieces of bristol

[rebelspykatie]

Part 4

ao3 - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

The only problem is, Eddie doesn’t know how to fix it. Moments where Steve is alone are few and far between, unless he shows up at Steve’s house unannounced. He doesn’t think he’ll be welcome there, if Steve would even answer the door. Which is fair, he wouldn’t talk to himself either if their roles were reversed. 

If this skin crawling, stomach turning, palms sweating feeling is how love eats away at your insides, Eddie’s glad he spent the first twenty years of his life devoid of it. How do people live like this? He’s never really been a chick flick kind of guy, but he suddenly understands the plight of the main character that figures it out too late. The idiot that has to stand outside with a boombox and declare his love loudly because he made a mistake. 

His chance comes as a happy accident. A New Years Eve party, one with everyone that survived the Upside Down that he reluctantly agreed to come to, and only because Dustin wouldn’t leave him alone until he showed up. Most of the night, Steve keeps that healthy distance from him, not altogether avoiding him, but never allowing himself to be caught at the punch bowl alone. 

Steve’s walking around with Eddie’s heart in his hands, even if he doesn’t know it. His skin prickles with awareness when Steve’s near. Everyone has to know that something happened. They used to be inseparable, one mass on a couch, barely able to see where the other ended and began. Now? It’s like they’re two poles of a magnet, an invisible force pushing them to opposite sides of the room, circling each other in a twisted dance. 

At some point, he loses sight of Steve, and he gets drawn into a conversation about music with Lucas and Jonathan. He’s on just the right side of loose, nursing a second beer and desperately in need of some fresh air, when people start to get antsy as midnight approaches. 

He steps outside the cabin and the cold air melts away his anxiety. He closes his eyes, soaking up the outdoorsy stillness of the night, the only sound the quiet rustle of creatures in the forest’s depths, the echo of distant fireworks, and the ragged breath he inhales. He’s never really gotten accustomed to the packed house that happens when they’re all together, after so many years of just him and Wayne. 

He jumps nearly a foot in the air when he hears Steve say, “Hey.” 

When he turns towards the sound, he sees the silhouette of Steve with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He’s curled up on the bench that sits directly below the window, backlit by the dull yellow light shining through the curtains, keeping most of his face hidden until Eddie’s eyes adjust to the dark. 

“I didn’t think anyone was out here,” Eddie says, cautiously inching forward, not sure if he’ll spook Steve. 

“It was getting a little overcrowded,” Steve shrugs, the blanket falling off one shoulder, but making no move otherwise. He looks so young like this, and they are young, Eddie knows that. But he also feels ancient after everything they’ve been through. He’s lived too much life for a twenty year old. 

It’s a stark reminder that there’s no time to waste. This could be his one opportunity. A gift handed to him from the universe to start the year on a better foot. If Steve can forgive him and listen. Which is more than Eddie deserves. 

Eddie slinks over and drops down into the empty space beside Steve, making sure to leave enough space between them, giving Steve an out. He doesn’t move. It’s foolish for that to give him hope, but it does. Steve’s admitted to being overwhelmed as much as Eddie was inside, but he’s not bolting for woods or yelling for Robin. There’s not even a fake smile plastered on his face. Just this quiet, contemplative look as he casts his gaze into the darkness beyond the cabin. 

“S-steve,” Eddie starts. He clears his throat and tries again, “Steve, I was wrong.” 

It takes a moment for Steve to turn his attention to Eddie, a sharp beat of time where he braces himself, swallowing thickly and shoulders hunching, before their gazes meet. An eternity must have gone by since the last time they made eye contact. Eddie isn’t prepared for the butterflies that take root in his stomach. The way it’s all clicked into place that Steve’s presence in his life is and always has been different. 

“About what?” He asks quietly.

“Everything,” Eddie turns his whole body towards Steve. “For most of my life, I’ve never thought about anyone romantically. I didn’t have crushes, or flirtations, or summer flings. None of that mattered to me. Figured I’d leave Hawkins one day, find some chick to settle down with, and have kids like everyone else. Do what was expected of me. Or at least that I would end up an old man living alone in my trailer, like Wayne.” 

“Wayne’s not alone, he has you.” 

“Not by choice, though.” Eddie laughs wryly. “Doesn’t matter. I just had this idea in my head of what that would look like, but I never stopped to think about whether that was what I even wanted. It never occurred to me that maybe I was missing out on what everyone else was going through in high school, all the dates and prom nights.”

“Are you saying you’ve never had a crush on anyone?” Steve asks, disbelief in his tone. He pulls the blanket back up over his shoulder. 

“Not for twenty years of my life. Not a single one.” He takes a deep breath and steadies himself. “Until now.” 

“Eddie, I’m not-” Steve moves like he’s going to stand up, but Eddie reaches out and stops him with one hand on his arm over the blanket. 

“Steve, please just let me explain.”

[imaginespazzi]

Part 7: Home

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

These hands had to let it go free and this love came back to (us)

(In which with bittersweet feelings, a nostalgic writer, finally writes the end of the story)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst and Fluff

Words: 7.1K

TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Hello my loves! I can't believe we've actually reached the end, who would have thought huh? I'm not sure if there will be an epilogue, mainly cause I don't know what I'd write but never say never. I don't really know how I feel about this chapter and if I've done the end I pictured justice but I really hope y'all like it anyways. There's a fair amount of creative liberty taken with WNBA logistics but please just accept it for the plot. Per usual, did I edit? Yes. Are there grammar mistakes and typos anyways? Yes. As always, let me know what you liked and disliked. And finally, to all my lovelies who have liked, reblogged, commented, sent in an ask, dm-ed me or simply just silently read this fic, I just wanna say thank you guys so, so, much, y'all have made writing every word worth it and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much I enjoyed writing it <3

August 2018

Paige swears, tonight, there are stars in the Minnesota night sky she’s never seen before in her life. The summer sky has darkened with nightfall, yet the shine of the moon and its companions make it still seem ever so bright. Or maybe, it’s just the girl lying next to Paige that makes tonight feel luminescent, sparkling with the promises of something not quite like friendship that Paige has never felt before. She’d spent the whole day with Azzi at the Minnesota State fair, trying to suppress these new butterflies in her stomach that seemed to have taken birth over their time in Latvia. Or well, maybe they’d been there from the start, but they’d really only started this dance of theirs, the one that makes Paige feel all tingly when Azzi smiles, over the course of this summer. 

“Paige it’s cold, stop hogging the blanket,” Azzi chastises, breaking Paige from a trance, as she tugs on the pink and purple blanket covering the two of them, “I knew we should have brought two of them.”

“It’s barely on me” Paige argues for the sake of arguing but she shifts anyway to allow the younger girl to pull the blanket, so clearly meant for one person, a little more towards her, “besides, it’s about sharing body heat.”

“You’re not even warm enough to share body heat,” Azzi mocks as she makes a show of tracing a finger down Paige’s arm and everything in the blonde feels like it’s been lit on fire at the touch. And she wonders if Azzi feels it too, the electricity, the sparks of this could ruin me that scatter through her veins before finding themselves setting her heart ablaze. It’s too much and Paige shakes Azzi’s hand off with a little more force than she means too. 

When Azzi sends her questioning look, she splutters through an excuse, “your hands are cold too. Can we just do the boring shit we’re here to do.”

"Stargazing is not boring,” Azzi says indignantly, opening the little stargazing booklet she’d brought with her, flicking through the pages looking for something specific. 

To be honest, sitting still in an open field and squinting at the sky trying to figure out a distant constellation isn’t really Paige’s brand of entertainment. She’s a fidgety person by nature, constantly embroiled in the urge to be moving. But Azzi had brought it up the other day, with pleading eyes and a hopeful grin and well, sometimes it felt sinful to deny Azzi of anything she wants. And that’s how they’d ended up at a campsite, not too far from the State fair, lying on the grass, heads tilted towards each other, with a single blanket shielding them from the summer breeze. 

“Okay,” Azzi says after a while, using her fingers to point out a pattern in the sky, “I think that one’s Cassiopeia.”

“If you say so,” Paige nods, not really sure what she’s supposed to be looking at. 

“Paaaaige,” Azzi whines, “focus.”

“Dude I can barely see anything, the fuck am I supposed to focus o-”

Before Paige can finish her sentence, she feels herself being pulled by the younger girl, the side of her body fitting into the crook’s of Azzi’s like a perfect puzzle piece. She looks over at the brunette, and the protest dies on the tip of her tongue, as she realises just how close Azzi is to her now, all semblance of air leaving her lungs. Paige gulps, eyes tracing every inch of her best friend’s face, stopping of their own accord at Azzi’s lips, before guiltily flashing back to meet the younger girl’s eyes which are just as focused on Paige. And it feels like there’s no force in this world right now that could make either of them look away. Except maybe the force of friends don’t do this. 

“Just focus,” Azzi breaks contact first, turning her face back at the stars, before gently grabbing hold of Paige’s hand so she can guide it in the pattern of the constellation. And Paige still doesn’t really see it, doesn’t even particularly care about seeing it, but if it gets Azzi to hold her hand, soft skin putting light pressure against her palm, she thinks she’ll try to see some random lines in the sky forever. 

“It’s pretty.”

“You don’t see it do you?”

“Nope,” Paige’s grin widens when Azzi chuckles, shaking her head fondly. Something in her blooms, delighted at being the reason for that. And she’s always prided herself in being funny, she thinks of herself as a little bit of a comedian really, but she’s never wanted to make anyone laugh quite as much as she wants to make Azzi laugh. 

“Well that’s enough stargazing for us then,” Azzi rolls her eyes, closing her little booklet and making a move to sit up but Paige is quicker, pulling the younger girl back down and interlocking their fingers. Her own overeagerness causes a tinge of embarrassment to race up her cheeks, and she hopes it’s dark enough that Azzi won’t see the pale pink blush taking over her face. 

“It’s peaceful out here,” she says quietly, sounding shy even to her own ears and she can’t help but wonder when the hell that happened, “you wanna stay a little longer?”

“Yeah okay let’s stay longer,,” Azzi agrees  and sometimes when Azzi speaks like that, her voice lyrically soft with a secret smile hidden in it, Paige wonders if maybe it would be okay to hope for, to feel something more because maybe, just maybe, Azzi feels it too. 

“You know you should come to the state championship,” Paige says after a second of silence, trying to keep her voice nonchalant but she can hear the wishfulness bleeding into it anyways. 

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “isn’t that in March? That’s like months and months away.”

“Yeah but- well-” Paige shrugs, cheeks burning just a little bit, “you probably wanna book in advance cause like tickets and stuff you know?”

“You don’t even know if you’ll be in the state championship. There’s still a whole season to go.”

“Oh I know. I know we’re definitely gonna be there.” Paige smirks, cockiness back in full-fledged form. 

“Then I’ll be there,” Azzi says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, “you better win though Bueckers.”

“Watch me,” and she’s jutting her chest out in arrogance sure, but really everything inside her is swelling with something else, a feeling she’s starting to understand a little too well, a feeling that terrifies her, a feeling she doesn’t think she’s quite ready to let herself feel yet, “it would be nice you know, to win a championship together at some point.”

“I don’t think my parents would be on board with moving to Minnesota.”

“I’m sure I could convince them,” Paige feels a little giddy at the thought, “but I meant more like college, like UConn.”

It’s a topic they’ve stumbled upon a couple of times, with each other, and with the other girls at Team USA. And as much as Paige would love for her other teammates to follow her to her dream school, she’s practical enough to know they might have other priorities. But the thing is that with the rest of the girls, it’s just something she’d like to happen but with Azzi, now that Paige has said it out loud, she’s beginning to realise how desperately she wants that, her and Azzi, on the same team, fighting the same battles and winning the same wars, together. 

“Don’t think you can win a national championship without me Bueckers?” Azzi smirks, twisting her head towards Paige, eyebrows cocked in arrogance. 

“Of course I can,” Paige’s face softens, the vulnerability that only ever seems to come out around her best friend seeping on to her features, “but I think it would be fun to win one with you. Someday.”

“Someday, “ Azzi whispers back, giving Paige’s hand a light squeeze, and then her eyes widen at the sky, “holy shit is that a shooting star? Oh my god Paige look up, quick, it’s beautiful.”

In the dark of the night, a rare flicker of gold shoots across the obsidian Minnesota sky. Paige has never seen one before but it seems fitting really, that she’d see one tonight. 

“We have to make a wish,” she whispers and Azzi, never one to really believe, rolls her eyes but she follows Paige’s lead, closing her eyes. And the thing is Paige could wish for a lot of things really, but she finds herself thinking of only one word that sums up all she could ever want: someday.

***

August 2026 

They’ve been playing against each other for years now and yet the thrill of the face-off still hasn’t quite worn off. Back in the handful of games in high school, it had been quickfire friendly trash talk, two best friends going at it like the competitors they were. College had been drastically different, each game, each play, underlined with the tension of two people who still hadn’t quite figured it out. But Paige thinks her favourite version of them as opponents is definitely this one, the one where they might be on different teams in the WNBA, but off the court, they both know they’re on the same side, together. 

Their relationship isn’t quite a secret; it would have been impossible to hide if after the kiss at the 2025 national championship. But they’d kept as quiet about it as possible, skillfully dodging media questions, wanting to shelter it from the prying eyes of the public. It makes playing each other on national television, just that little bit more entertaining, trying to keep things as cordial as possible. If Paige’s hands end up just a little too close to Azzi’s waist, lingering a little longer than necessary against the patch of skin she’d marked with a hickey earlier this morning, and it makes the younger girl shiver, then that’s just a tactic to win. And if Azzi breathes seductive thoughts of what she’d like to do after the game when guarding Paige, and it makes the blonde want to turn around and kiss the smirk off of her girlfriend’s lips, well that’s just another innovative defensive strategy. 

“Be a good girl for me and move,” Paige whispers, the double entendre in her voice apparent, as she tries to dribble the ball past Azzi. There’s only a minute or so left in the last meeting of the regular season between Paige’s Lynx and Azzi’s Mystics -funny how that had worked out-  and the score is painfully close, with the Mystics closing in on the Lynx’s two point-lead. 

“Always a good girl for you P,” Azzi smirks, her voice the quietest it could possibly be, but Paige hears her next words like they’re on a loudspeaker in the area,  “it’s why I’m wearing your favourite purple panties.”

It takes a second, a second where Paige’s eyes gloss over with lust, as her mind rushes back to the last time she’d seen, the last time she’d touched the silky undergarment, for the ball to be stolen from her hands. She’s a step too slow to recover and by that time Azzi’s already scored the easy lay-up to tie up the game, a mischievous grin adorning her normally stoic game face. 

On the other end of the court, Napheesa draws a foul and Paige and Azzi end up next to each for free throws. Paige is seething, unsure if the heat curling up her spine is from the game or the girl standing next to her. 

“Sorry baby, all’s fair in love and war right?” Azzi teases, pinky brushing against the blonde’s, “I’ll make it up to you later if you want.”

“You’re such a fucking menace,” Paige practically growls. She does want, in fact she’d like it right now if it was possible. Two years they’ve been together, longer if you count the inbetween, and still, every time Azzi lights a match, Paige feels herself burn just as brightly as the first time she’d felt that magnetic pull. 

“Learnt from the best,” Azzi hums with a grin as Napheesa hits both free throws. 

The rest of the game passes in a blur of frenzied shots and hurried fouls but the Lynx pull out an eventual, much-needed win, to better their chances of clinching a higher seed in the playoffs. After missing the playoffs in 2024, the Lynx, despite having relatively low odds, had secured the no.1 pick and there had never really been a doubt that they would pick Paige. She’d helped the team get back to the playoffs last season but they hadn’t made it out of the first round. A championship doesn’t seem quite possible yet, but Paige has her fingers crossed that they’d at least make it to a semi-final this time. 

“The two of you are terrible at this,” Aaliyah’s the first person to hug Paige during the handshake line, “I thought you’d jump each other’s bones in the middle of the game today.”

“We’re not that bad,” Paige rolls her eyes at her former teammate. She high-fives a few more of the Mystics team until she gets to Azzi, who’s already smiling, despite the loss. The cameras are quick to crowd them, clearly wanting a more sensational picture than the one they’re likely to get. Still, despite the unwanted attention, Paige lets herself nestle into the crook of Azzi’s neck. 

“You owe me twice tonight,” she whispers into the younger girl’s ear, “one for the win and one for that bullshit you pulled on the court tonight.”

Azzi’s voice is breathless when she replies, “I can give you way more than two.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“It’s a promise.”

***

“With the new rules, after this season you’ll be a free agent, have you given any thought to that?”

Waiting for the Lynx’s turn in the media room, Paige hadn’t been paying much attention to the questions being asked to the Mystics players, her focus solely on how hot her girlfriend always looked post games. But the words ‘free agent’ pique her interest. The W had changed the rookie contract rules for first round draftees to two years and that meant both Paige and Azzi would be free agents after this year. But while it hadn’t reached the media quite yet, the Lynx were likely to use their core designation on Paige. Which meant the only one of them making any decision about next season would be Azzi. It was a subject the two of them were cautiously tip-toeing around, using the shield of distance to avoid talking about what it could mean for them. 

“I’m focused on the season, this team and the rest of our games. I’m not really thinking about the future,” Azzi answers diplomatically. 

“You’ve obviously got very strong ties to the DC area but you also went to UCLA, if the Sparks or maybe even the Valkyries, considering your connection to Steph Curry, were interested, and there have been rumours that they are, would you consider it?” the same reporter prods. 

“Again, I’m not currently thinking about any of that,” to anyone else Azzi probably sounds neutral but Paige has studied the sheet music of Azzi’s voice to the point where she knows what’s hidden behind every note, behind every little indent. The tinge of irritation is masked by a smile, but the line of questioning is clearly unappreciated. 

“And what about the Lynx?” the persistently oblivious reporter continues and this time Paige sucks in a breath, “you have some ties to that team don't you? Have you given some thought to maybe going there?”

Azzi’s eye twitches ever so slightly, “the Lynx just beat my team. The only thoughts I have right now are about how to beat them next time.”

That elicits a laugh from the media and finally the rather obtuse reporters seem to understand that he’s not going to be able to pry anything newsworthy from Azzi’s mouth. But even if he hasn’t achieved his desired effect, he’s succeeded in making Paige’s mind start running in circles. She hadn’t let herself think about it yet, the potential of Azzi joining the Lynx, the potential of playing with Azzi, the potential of finally just being with Azzi. Because facing the potential for all of that, facing all the things she wants means also facing the potential that maybe Azzi doesn’t want any of that. 

***

The air in Paige’s living room is thick with a suffocating tension as she and Azzi sit on opposite ends of the couch. It reminds Paige a little bit of the before, a dreaded version of them she’d foolishly thought they grown out of, until something reminiscent of their past problems had reared its ugly head, and suddenly it feels a bit like she’s playing a losing game. 

“Will you please stop that,” she bites out, referring to where Azzi’s foot is incessantly tapping on the wooden floors, “it’s giving me a headache.”

Azzi’s eyes narrow, flashing with irritation, “is it my tapping or the alcohol giving you a headache Paige?”

“I didn’t even drink that much,” Paige says through gritted teeth and Azzi scoffs. 

It’s a lie. After both teams were done with post game pressers, she, Azzi and a couple of the other girls had ended up at a local bar as they often did when the other team didn’t have to fly out til the next day. Paige had been tense the whole evening and trying to pretend not to be, especially when Azzi could see right through her façade, had only made the whole thing worse. She wasn’t one to drink too much, always happy just being sufficiently tipsy but then she’d gotten in her head too much. And when the first shot didn’t quite hit the way she needed it to, she’d kept on going, receiving worried looks from all the girls, until Azzi had finally stepped in. The ride back from the bar had been a sobering experience, one look at Azzi’s stoic face, giving away her irritation. 

“That’s why you still reek of tequila?” 

“How the fuck would you know? You haven’t come near me all night.” 

“Don’t you dare try and turn this on me Paige. I tried to talk to you all night til you decided you wanted to act like freshman frat boy,” Azzi spits out, hurt and anger colliding in her voice, “we barely get to spend time together during the season and the one night in forever that we do, you pull this shit?”

They haven’t had an argument like this since they’ve been officially together, the kind of argument that has them balancing on a delicate tight rope, too afraid to take a step backwards in their relationship, and too prideful to take a step forward towards each other. 

“I didn’t think you cared about spending time together during the season,” Paige accuses and there’s a sensible part of her, one that’s currently being held captive by the dangers of liquor, that knows it’s a ridiculous allegation. 

Azzi stares at her, lips opening and closing in disbelief, “excuse me?”

“It’s pretty simple really Azzi. If you wanna spend the whole season together, the option is right fucking there, but I- I can’t even tell if you’re interested in taking it,” Paige is pacing now, teeth gnawing at her lips like they always do when she’s nervous. 

“What- what are you even talking about?” Azzi asks, clearly confused. 

“Free fucking agency. They asked you about it and you said you hadn’t thought about it at all. That’s really great to hear Az, really great to know you haven’t thought about how that could literally change our whole fucking life,” and even as the words waterfall out of her mouth, Paige knows she’s being unreasonable, but the mix of stress and alcohol churning in her stomach is just enough to keep her from taking the words back. 

“I didn’t- that’s not even what I said. Jesus fucking christ Paige,” Azzi rubs her face, looking defeated.

“So you have thought about it then?”

“Of course I’ve thought about it, “ Azzi throws her hands up, “but I wasn’t gonna tell the media about all of that. But you- you seriously think I haven’t thought about what this means for us? You don’t- do you really think I’m not thinking about you- about us- while trying to make this decision?”

“Well you definitely didn’t think of me- of us- when you chose UCLA,” Paige’s eyes widen at her own words, knowing immediately that of all things she could have said, those were the worst ones, “I- I didn’t mean it like that.”

In front of her, Azzi has gone deathly still, face completely devoid of emotion, until the first tear drops and all of Paige’s anger dissipates, the guilt clawing back with full force. 

“I thought we were over that,” Azzi whispers, voice trembling, as she looks down at her hands, “but maybe we’ll never be over that.”

“We are,” Paige sinks to her knees in front of the younger girl, tugging Azzi’s hands into her own, “we are over it. I just- it just slipped out.”

Azzi’s quiet for a moment before she pulls her hands out of the blonde’s grip, sidestepping her as she stands up and Paige feels empty and cold and just a little bit broken. 

“Are you leaving?” she whispers, peering up at Azzi through tear soaked eyelashes. 

“I think I should, before anything else just slips out,” Paige flinches and Azzi’s expression softens, “I know- I know you didn’t mean it like that but I just- I need some space.”

Panic filters into Paige’s lungs, wrapping its dirty hands and squeezing so tight that she can barely breathe. She’s not sure when she’ll see Azzi again, now that there’s no more Lynx-Mystics games left in the regular season and it’s unlikely with their expected seedings that they’d meet at some point in the playoffs. It’s not like distance is new to them, but in the last two years, they’ve only ever said goodbye with an i love you attached to the end. 

“Are you-,” Paige gasps for air, “are you leaving me?”

And it must be written all over Paige's face, just how petrified she is of this moment, because that's all it takes for Azzi to rush back into Paige’s space, hands cupping her cheeks, “oh baby of course not. I just- you’re still drunk and I’m upset and I don’t want us to say anything we don’t mean. And I- need time to think about free agency and I think you- you need time to think about why that slipped out.”

Paige sighs, melting into Azzi’s touch as the knots in her stomach begin to untangle themselves, “you’re so logical.”

“Someone has to be,” a half-smile flitters across the younger girl’s face as she wipes at Paige’s tears, “we’ll figure this out okay? Just- just give me a little bit of time.”

Give me time. It’s a familiar line, so similar to what Azzi had asked for when she was making a decision about college and Paige would be lying if she said there isn’t a part of her that’s terrified fate is going to make them repeat the same mistakes. But part of growing up, Paige surmises, is letting time test you with the same trials and tribulations, and the next time, coming out of the other end on the right side. 

And so she squeezes Azzi’s hand, matching the younger girl's half smile, with a soothing one of her own, “okay.”

***

November 2027 

Paige doesn't know when she ended up in a love triangle with Azzi and the state of California but she wishes she was competing against an actual person. At least then she could throw a punch at the other guy. The W season is barely over and it seems like every front office has thrown themselves headfirst into convincing free agents to join their team. There’s a couple of teams interested in Azzi, but no one seems to be trying harder than the Los Angeles Sparks. Paige thinks whoever gave that city a name meaning “the angels” could not have been more wrong because really it’s a city full of devils constantly trying to steal her girl and no she’s not being dramatic. 

They’re supposed to be leaving for thanksgiving dinner when Azzi’s phone rings and Paige can’t help but roll her eyes when Cameron Brink’s name flashes on the CallerID. The Sparks seemed to have put her as head of their recruiting Azzi campaign and Cam had been diligently doing her part. 

“Azzi, Cam’s calling again,” Paige yells out to her girlfriend who’s still not quite finished getting ready.

“Can you pick it up?”

“Do I have to?”

“Paige,” Azzi whines and Paige sighs, hitting the green answering button. 

“The amount of times you’ve called my girlfriend this week, Brink, should I be concerned?”

“Jealous I’m replacing you as her favourite blonde?” Cam’s voice always sounds like she’s smiling and Paige can’t help her own smile. Goddamn Cameron Brink for always being the sweetest soul on this planet. 

“As if,” Paige scoffs, “it’s a holiday Cam, give the recruiting a rest.”

“Hey, I’m just calling to wish her a happy thanksgiving,” Cam defends. 

“Mmmhmm where’s my thanksgiving wish?”

“Oh please, the two of you are basically a unit. Wishing her is wishing you,” Cam is quiet for a second before speaking again, “the Sparks would be a good fit for her Paige.”

Paige sucks in a sharp breath, “I’m not the one you’re gonna have to convince.”

“I know but you know your opinion means a lot to her. I know you want her in Minnesota and she'd be good there too and I- I know it isn’t my place to say any of this but just- just don’t discourage her from doing what’s best for her,” there’s not a hint of malice in Cam’s words, there never is, but they pierce at Paige’s skin anyways. 

“Okay I’m ready, hand me the phone,” she’s saved from having to answer by Azzi waltzing into the living room and prying the phone from her hands. 

Paige watches silently as Azzi talks animatedly with Cam, noticing the way her girlfriend’s smile widens while talking about certain spots in L.A. They’d subconsciously decided not to breach the subject of free agency after that night. Paige hadn’t interfered in any of the Lynx’s conversations with Azzi, deciding that this time, she’d stay out of it. It hadn’t been easy, every little bit of her itching to pitch why the Lynx were the perfect fit, why Paige was the perfect fit, but she was determined to give Azzi the space -the time- she’d wanted. This time she’d leave the choice solely up to Azzi and whatever she decided, Paige would find her happiness in that. 

“Paige you ready to go,” Azzi waves a hand in front of Paige’s face, eyebrows raised in question when the older girl doesn’t make a move to get off the sofa, “hey, you good?”

“Cam says the Sparks would be a good fit,” Azzi stiffens at Paige’s words. 

“Paige-”

“She’s right,” Paige concedes, fingers fidgeting as she averts Azzi’s gaze. 

The younger girl blinks at her, clearly not having expected that, “she is?”

“Yeah. They need a shooting guard and you,” Paige smiles, reaching out to pull Azzi onto the couch with her, “you’re the best there is.”

“I wouldn’t go that far-”

“You are to me and it’s why I want you on the Lynx,” they both let out a breath with that. It’s not a secret of course but Paige hasn’t said it out loud before. 

“Paige-”

“But it’s okay if you don't wanna be on the Lynx, if you wanna be on the Sparks or stay here with the Mystics or on any other team, if you think it’s the right move for you and for your career then that’s fine. It’s okay and you don’t- you don’t need my permission or anything of course but I just- whatever you decide, I’ll support it okay? What I said that night about UCLA-  it wasn't- it wasn’t about you. I thought about it like you asked me to and it’s me. I was scared that I would fuck it up again and I’d lose you again-”

“You won’t,” Azzi grabs Paige’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze,  “I won’t let you.”

“I know. I know now that whatever happens, we’ll be okay. And so you can choose whatever team you want and it won’t- it won’t affect us, I promise. It won’t be like last time I swear. When you make your decision- I just- I don’t want you to make it for me or for us, cause you and me? Baby we’ll be just fine no matter what. Wherever you go and wherever I am, we’ll make it work, just as we have for the last two years,” Paige smirks, “besides I kinda enjoy kicking your ass.”

Azzi lets out a snort as she climbs onto Paige’s lap, thighs straddling her hips, “you really had to ruin it with that last part huh?”

“Was getting a little too sappy for me,” Paige mumbles and when she looks up, the emotions floating in Azzi’s eyes make Paige’s heart stutter. Because no one else gets this Azzi. This Azzi, who wears her heart on her sleeve, who lets her walls down, only for Paige’s eyes to see, only for Paige’s mind to memorise, only for Paige’s heart to keep. 

“You mean it?” Azzi whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of Paige’s face, touching lingering, “you’d be okay with anything?”

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Paige cups Azzi’s cheeks, brushing her lips against the younger girl’s, “whatever you choose, we’ll be fine. No matter what, I believe in us.”

***

January 2028

Paige groans when her phone rings at 2 a.m., fumbling around in the dark trying to answer it. 

“I swear you better be dying if you’re calling me this late,” she grumbles into the phone, voice scratchy with sleep. 

“Not quite,” Azzi says, and Paige’s eyebrows furrow at the amount of background noise she can hear behind her girlfriend. 

“Dude where the hell are you at 3 in the morning?” she asks, now a little more awake as she sits up. 

“I uh- I had a bit of a revelation,” and Paige can practically picture Azzi, wherever she might be, fidgeting with her fingers and biting her lips. 

“That doesn’t explain anything.”

“I know. I know. Shit, I was supposed to do this in person. I had a whole plan but apparently being with you has made me impatient,” Azzi rambles. 

“You’re still not making any sense,” but Paige’s heart is starting to beat erratically fast in anticipation. 

“I had this realisation while I was in the gym today, it was really quiet and peaceful and I was fine you know- all day I was fine- just doing daily routines and then I just- I missed you. I miss you all the time do you know that?”

Paige does know, knows it far too well. Sometimes she thinks missing Azzi comes as naturally as breathing, an innate part of her day to day, a constant ache that she’s felt since she was 15. 

“I miss you too,” she whispers. 

“And I’ve learned to survive with that feeling, with missing you constantly. I mean it’s been more than 10 years at this point, how could I not? But what I realised today is that just because I can- just because I can live missing you- doesn’t mean I want to.”

“What are you saying Azzi?”

“DC is my childhood. My family is close to there, it’s part of where I grew up. It’ll always be my first home. And LA is where I found myself, my identity, and for a while it felt like home too.”

“Azzi,” Paige breathes out, hands gripping the phone as tight as possible, wrapping that one syllable in emblems of give me forever. 

“But my forever home isn’t in DC or LA and it’s not really in any other place either because-  Jesus this might be the clichést thing I’ve ever said but-,” Azzi lets out a chuckle, “my home is wherever you are Paige. Wherever we’re together, that’s home.”

It feels a little bit like the end of a drought, the wetness on Paige’s cheeks like the rain that comes after. In the pitch black of her room, phone clutched closely to her ear with Azzi’s words floating through it like a swan song, Paige swears she’s never felt the world glow quite like this before. 

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Beating your ass has been fun as hell but I think we’d make a pretty good team Bueckers.”

And it’s a good thing Paige’s walls are soundproof because the delighted whoop she lets out practically vibrates around the room, all previous wisps of tiredness completely gone from her body. Azzi lets out a tearful laugh and Paige wishes they were together right now so she could tattoo this happiness onto both of their skins. 

“The greatest team ever,” Paige affirms, “When are you com-”

“Attention passengers Delta Airlines Flight 1248 to Minneapolis will be boarding soon, please have your passport and ticket ready to check at the gate.”

“About that,” Azzi says shyly as Paige’s mouth drops open at the announcement, “I uh- I had a moment of spontaneity.”

“Who the hell are you and what have you done with my overthinking girlfriend?” Paige demands and Azzi giggles on the other end of line.

“I know it’s last minute, like really last minute and it was meant to be a surprise actually but I just- I really wanna see you. Is that okay?”

“Is that okay? Fuck Azzi, it’s all I want. Baby,” Paige breathes out softly, “come home.”

*** 

Time isn’t going nearly fast enough Paige thinks as she checks the arrivals board for the nth time. She’d tried for about four seconds to fall back asleep after hanging up the phone but her entire body had been buzzing with excitement. And so she’d gotten to the airport far earlier than necessary, and had maybe one too many cups of coffee if the jittery shake in her left hand is anything to go by.

She swears she feels her before she sees her. The air is electric as if the whole city, the whole state is waiting for Azzi too, for them to get their elusive forever. This moment feels like years in the making, and Paige is ready, ready to grasp it and make it hers. And then there’s Azzi, a clearly chosen-at-last minute wrinkled t-shirt, eyes drooping from the tiredness from not having slept all night, baby hairs in a frenzy across her forehead. To Paige, she’s still the prettiest girl in the entire universe. 

Azzi’s eyes scan through the airport until they land on Paige, a dazzling smile illuminating her exhausted features. It’s the exact same smile that Paige had first elicited from her on the flight back from Argentina when she’d told Azzi she had a feeling they'd make great friends. It’s her Paige smile. The world is still for a second, everything melting away except them and the whispers of the journey it had taken them to get to this point. Every delicately placed step towards each other feels like an ode to every year they’d spent apart. And then Paige is running, not caring about everyone else around her. She jumps into Azzi’s arm, all 6 feet of her, tangling her legs around the younger girl's waist while her arms fasten around the neck. It forces Azzi to let go of her small carry-on, not caring that it falls to the floor with a thud, as her hands wrap around Paige’s back, steadying her girlfriend’s weight on top of her. 

“You’re here,” Paige whispers, still a little in disbelief, “you’re really here.”

“I’ve been in Minny plenty of times before,” Azzi quips, adjusting her balance to properly hold the girl clinging to her like a koala. 

“Shut up you know what I mean. You’re here forever this time.”

“Well I don’t know about forever- OW,” Azzi shrieks, as Paige pinches her arm, “do you want me to drop you woman?”

“You’re never allowed to leave.”

“That sounds vaguely threatening.”

“Good because it definitely is a threat,” Paige says before pulling Azzi into a searing kiss, “welcome home baby.”

***

October 2028 

There are moments in life you remember forever. Sometimes you know they’re going to happen, sometimes they take you off guard and sometimes, it’s a combination of both. The Minnesota Lynx’s journey to the WNBA finals this season had always felt inevitable but the journey there, for a team that had unexpectedly fallen to the 4-seed despite pre-season clamour of them being number one, had been filled with bitter losses and moments of pure uncertainty. In a way, it perfectly mirrors Paige and Azzi’s relationship. 

There’s 11 seconds separating the Lynx from their 5th championship trophy as they lead the Sky by two points. The crowd is up on their feet, ready for their cheering to turn into roars the minute the final buzzer rings. Paige has the ball in her hands on the inbound, Coach Reeves yelling at her from the bench what to do, as she makes eye contact with Azzi. There are no words, not even a gesture that the other team might be able to interpret, but they know exactly what play they’re about to run.

Truth be told it hadn’t been the seamless transition the two of them had expected when Azzi joined the Lynx. They’d been naive to think years of not playing together wouldn’t have affected the backcourt chemistry they’d had almost instantly once upon a time. The first few games, there had been an embarrassing disconnect between the two of them that had resulted in a nasty berating from Coach Reeves and a subsequent argument between the two of them that had lasted into the next morning. It had taken several more practices, and a couple more games of flailing around, for them to finally become the duo Paige had always known they would. 

The game buzzer beeps and Paige throws the ball to Azzi who immediately returns it back to her, and then she’s running off screen after screen to get herself open on the wing, her sweet spot. Paige dribble penetrates into the paint, dragging an extra defender with her as they try to prevent her from getting a layup, the other defender blocks her from stepping back into a pull-up. Azzi’s defender has a momentary lapse in judgement, falling for the age-old trick of thinking she should help on defence, and that’s all it takes. A second for Paige to see Azzi open on the corner and pass it to her. A second for Azzi to shoot it. 

The three-pointer falls through the next with a perfect swish. Dagger shot. 

A small smile flits across Azzi’s face, the only emotion she’s shown all game and Paige can’t help the much larger grin that starts to flash on her own face. She can almost taste victory on the tip of her tongue, the two seconds left in the game are the only thing separating her from finally getting her version of the things we live for. Behind her she can hear Coach Reeves yelling at them to not foul, the 5-point lead enough of a cushion for them to withstand a last minute shot. But the Sky barely make it over midcourt and when Marina Mabrey heaves up a last second prayer, Paige doesn’t bother to see if it goes in as the buzzer sounds throughout Target Arena. The Minnesota crowd explodes in noise and colour as confetti falls from the sky. 

Despite the chaos of everything, Paige has never seen Azzi clearer than in this moment. Since she’d met the girl, in all of Paige’s prayers about winning a championship, one thing had always been constant, that when they’d come true, they’d come true with Azzi by her side. And she had been. The high school state champion, the college national championship, Azzi had been there for both but on the bleachers, as a spectator and as Paige’s biggest fan. But this, winning a championship with Azzi as her teammate, as her ally, as her partner, means something more. This win is theirs. 

“Do you remember when we saw that shooting star?” Azzi says softly, as they find their way into each other’s arms, not caring that there’s a thousand cameras capturing their every move. Paige pulls Azzi closer to her, every inch of her body pressing into the other girls until she’s not sure where she begins and where Azzi ends. 

“That was years ago,” Paige remarks but she can see it clearly, two young girls underneath the stars, unaware of what their future would be but sure that the other would be in it. Those girls would probably laugh at how long it had taken Paige and Azzi to figure out what had seemed so simple back then. 

“Yeah, yeah it was. Do you remember what you wished for?” Azzi asks, smiling when Paige nods, “do you wanna know what I wished for?”

“What did you wish for Az?”

“Before we saw the star you- you said it’d be nice to win a championship together someday. And so I-,” Azzi looks down shyly, “so I wished for someday. I wished for today.”

Paige stares at Azzi, drinking in the sincerity on the shooting guard’s face, silently letting herself absorb the meaning of Azzi’s words. And then she lets out a laugh because of course of course. 

“I didn’t realise I’d said anything funny for you to be laughing at me,” Azzi scrunches her nose, looking slightly offended. 

“God baby no,” Paige cups Azzi’s face, and she thinks this smile on her face will last forever as long as this is her reality, “I’m not laughing at you. I just- do you know what I wished for?” 

Azzi shakes her head. 

“This. The same exact thing you did. For someday.”

It’s not quite the shade of blue Paige had imagined them in, the Lynx blue its own shade, something inbetween UConn’s navy one and UCLA’s sky one. But it’s perfect nonetheless. And when Azzi crashes her lips against Paige’s, someday feels a lot like forever and always.

[ddejavvu]

Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 2) / Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4 (Final Part)

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 16.1K / navigation / inbox

A/N: part two!! thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of the sweet, lovely feedback i got on part one, i was so happy you enjoyed the opening chapter!! this part gives some more backstory on reader+bradley, and i hope you like it just as much as you did the first! once more i'd love to hear your thoughts, thank you to everyone who said something wonderful and kind about the first part, it meant a lot to me. <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Instead of your alarm, you wake up to a call from Carole. It’s 7:29, and when you raise the phone to your ear, your voice is gruff and achy with sleep.

“Hello?”

It feels just like yesterday. Yesterday, that comes flooding back to you in a barrage of awful memories. All that’s changed is the bed you’re in; you’re still alone. You almost miss Carole’s response because you’re slowly taking in everything that hits you like an anvil from above, but you catch the last word and can discern her meaning.

“-visit?”

“Yeah,” You rub your eyes, feeling tears already gathered there; a great way to start your morning.

“Yeah, I’ll visit,” You confirm, and your alarm buzzes against your head. You hastily shut it off and yawn, only inducing more tears and sighing as you speak again, “I’m gonna run to the store real quick, get some stuff for cookies. He convinced me to sneak them in.”

“That boy,” Carole huffs, and even half-asleep, you hear her voice laced with fondness for her son, “Alright honey. How y’doin’?”

“Um,” You ponder, truly unsure as your fingers pick at a stray thread on the blanket; you’d been meaning to replace it for months. “Okay. Not okay, but not- not as bad as yesterday. I think-” You swallow, throat convulsing, “I think I love lying to him if it means I have him back.”

She’s silent for a moment, letting your words sink into your own brain. You feel guilty for them, just like you feel guilty for leading Bradley on, pretending nothing is wrong when your entire lives have fallen apart. But she eventually responds with all of the kindness and love she has inside of her, which is a lot.

“I know, baby. And it’s okay, it’ll get better. It’ll turn out right.”

“I hope so,” You breathe shakily, wishing either her or your boyfriend (pretend boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend?) were there to rub soothing circles into your back. 

“I know so.” She promises, and she’s never promised something she couldn’t guarantee. You hope this isn’t her first strike, because her never-ending optimism miraculously lifts your dreary spirits until your chest doesn’t ache with a sob begging to break free. “Alright, baby doll, I’ll let’cha get to baking. I’m gonna see if they’ll let me sneak in early, I- Oh! Nurse,” She calls away from the phone, and you hear her move on the other end, no doubt chasing down a poor nurse that doesn’t want to get fired for letting her in before visiting hours. You hang up the call with a snort, fond of how her fierce love for those around her hasn’t faded in all the time you’ve known her.

Pulling yourself out of bed is hard, but you do it for Bradley. You’re sluggish as you traipse to the bathroom, using deodorant in place of a shower and brushing your hair back into a ponytail. Showers are for people who have the luxury of time, you need to bake fast, and get over there to see if Bradley wakes up remembering anything new- er, old. You hope that he doesn’t, and then you hope that doesn’t make you a bad person.

One of the things you love about the place you’d shared with Bradley is that it’s close to a shopping center with a grocery store. It means that you walk to the supermarket, sandals on your feet and ratty, day-old clothes still on. No one seems to mind when you grab a basket looking like you’ve risen from the dead, and you collect the ingredients for Bradley’s favorite cookies with a skillful, experienced hand. You haven’t paid for anything by card in a while, you’d used emergency cash for the motel, and you wonder if you’ve been locked out of your joint bank account. Probably not; if the state of Bradley’s place had been any indication, he wants you back. But you’re cautious using the card anyways, in case a big red screen comes to life on the monitor in front of you and tells you you’re a terrible girlfriend. Almost a terrible wife.

You’re glad that you don’t run into any of your neighbors on the walk back home, because you don’t want to explain why you look the way you do, nor do you want to burst into tears when they ask where Bradley and his car are. You keep your head down and avoid the trike on the front walkway, ducking back into the house without being spotted. 

Firing up the oven feels heavenly, maybe because you’ve been eating scraps of motel food for two weeks. It reminds you of all the times you’ve baked with Bradley, or, more like the times you’ve baked while Bradley steals pinches of sugar from the bowl or tries to lick the beater when there’s raw egg in the mixture, resulting in more batter in his mustache than in his mouth while you try wrestling the spatula out of his grip.

You go through the oatmeal raisin motions absentmindedly; a master at your craft. It frees up brainpower to reminisce, and you sort through a mental file cabinet to find your favorite memory of baking with Bradley.

--

“I want to try the vanilla,” Bradley reaches for the teaspoon in your hands, and you jerk it away, thankful that it isn’t full of the brown liquid yet.

“Absolutely not,” You laugh, “Brad, it’s gross by itself. It’s like eating straight cocoa powder, it’s meant to be mixed in with something.”

He pouts, he actually pouts, a man of 36. The expression has his mustache hanging over his lower lip and you can’t help but giggle at it, leaning in to kiss the prickly hair on his face.

“You’ll have a cookie to eat soon,” You promise him, dumping a teaspoon of vanilla extract into the mixing bowl. He plays satisfied with your answer, but when you turn your back to fold the mixture in on itself with a spatula, you hear rustling behind you, then the click of a cap, and a muffled gag.

“I told you,” Your voice is sing-song-y, and you turn amusedly to watch Bradley duck under the sink’s faucet, rinsing his mouth out of the bitter taste. He’s scowling when he comes back up for air, water dripping from his mustache as he crosses his arms.

“I thought it would be good.” He mutters, and you nod, humming as a bit of batter smears over your thumb from the spatula.

“That’s because you didn’t listen to me,” You lament, “I know everything, Brad. You should just listen to me, always.”

“Oh yeah? Alright, share some wisdom with me, Almighty One,” He teases, pushing off of the counter to join you at your own, “What should I do?”

He moves with his arms crossed, standing just close enough that you know the only answer you can give.

“Mm,” You pretend to deliberate, really leaning into it with a few contemplative taps at your chin, “Kiss me.”

He gasps dramatically, which is the way that he does most things, “Excellent idea. You really do know everything.”

“Mhm,” You nod, craning your neck up as Bradley leans down to kiss you, “I told you. Listen to me all the time.”

“I will,” He promises, “Quick, tell me we should have sex.”

“Bradley!” You gawp, an incredulous laugh oozing out from your chest, leaving behind a snail trail of joy, “You’re insatiable! We’ve already gone twice today.”

“Mm, can’t help it,” He tsks, backing you into the counter and kissing you once more. His lips press firmly to yours, his hands at your waist caging you into his embrace, “Honey, you taste much sweeter than that vanilla shit.”

--

When you come to, you’re putting the cookies in the oven. You’re alarmed at how zoned out you’d been, but evidently you hadn’t burned the place down, and you shut the oven door, setting a timer on the microwave. You tackle the dishes next, using the time that the cookies bake to tidy up your work station. The dough comes easily off of the mixing bowl and the melted butter drips over your fingers before you scrub it away, still slightly warm from the microwave. There’s only a few plates in the sink that you hadn’t dirtied, and you wonder if Bradley had washed and dried dishes while you were away. Or maybe this was it, four plates of food in two weeks. You’d been treating yourself that way, but it’s heartbreaking to know Bradley had, too.

You try warding off your incoming bout of sniffles by retreating back to your bedroom, choosing a new outfit to wear to the hospital. If you show up in the same thing, Bradley might worry about you, and you don’t want him thinking you were too sluggish to pull yourself together for him. You’re hurt, wounded and scarred with lashes over your heart, but he’s the one with the broken ribs and the lost memories, so you need to play the part of the strong one; the uninjured one.

He can’t know you’re hurting in case he asks why.

Your shower is quick, and you try not to think about Bradley in case you succumb to the urge to cry. Of course, it’s impossible to chase the thoughts from your head, and the feeling of your fingers scratching shampoo through your scalp turns into the feeling of Bradley’s. The hand that slides down your side suddenly isn’t your own anymore, it’s a memory of his. A ghost of him, a whisper against your skin of ‘I promise, baby. You won't lose me’.

You hope more than anything that promise stays true.

You get yourself ready to go with more zeal than you’ve felt in the past two weeks. You’re taking the bus today, to cut down on gas money, and you’re sure you’ll spend the whole time worrying. You’re nervous about seeing Bradley, but it’s a few minutes past eight-thirty and you’re sure if he’d regained his memories, Carole would have notified you. Beyond the nerves you’re almost excited to pretend to be his girlfriend again, excited to live in the fantasy life you’ve created to preserve his peace of mind. You never thought you’d love to lie to him.

You’re much more put together today when you greet the receptionist, and you're not sure you could forget the way to his room if you tried. There’s a bag of the oatmeal raisin cookies hidden in your purse and you slip into the room just as a doctor leans over him to take his temperature.

You adore the way Bradley smiles at you. His eyes meet yours as you stand in the doorway, previously cautious and now elated that he seems to like you still. His face lights up and he calls, ‘Baby,’ alerting the nurse to your presence.

“Miss Mitchell!” The woman greets you, the one who’d brought Bradley’s dinner last night. 

“Hi,” You gush, a laugh bubbling up in your chest that’s made of pure elation. It’s a sickly sweet sound, one that you thought you’d never be able to make again after leaving Bradley. You rush to kiss him when the nurse leans away, scribbling down his temperature on his chart.

He lifts his hand to cup your cheek when you kiss him and the tears that line your eyes are happy ones; there’s still time. There’s still time to soak in his love before he remembers, there’s still time to lose yourself in this fantasy.

You take a moment to breathe after the kiss, doing so against his lips. He does the same, and you bask in each other’s presence, noses brushing and foreheads pressed together. Skin-on-skin, love-on-love.

“His heartbeat really did speed up,” Carole marvels, and you scramble to greet her, guilty that she’d slipped your mind in the rush of emotions you felt.

“Hi! Hi, sorry,” You stammer, wrapping her in a hug while she waves away your apologies.

“No worries, baby!” She squeezes your shoulders, beaming at you. You’re sure she’s thrilled you showed up, and you know Bradley is too from the way he grabs for your hand when you sit by his bed. He’s always been a touchy guy, his hands are never idle, but he’s never been quite this clingy before. It’s good, it helps ground you, and it’s what you need after a two-week bender in a motel.

“Brad,” You coo, unable to resist kissing him again when he turns his head to face you in the bed. He looks more comfortable today than he had yesterday, no more breathing tube or pale skin. There’s dark circles under his eyes, but you’re sure he’s still shaken up from the crash, and you’ll make sure he gets to sleep nice and early tonight.

If you’re able to.

Once you’ve kissed him you dot smaller ones across his face, heart soaring at the gentle laughter that spills from his lips as you do so. You kiss his nose, his cheeks, his chin, the space beside his eyes that’s wrinkled from years of laughter, and when his pretty brown eyes flutter shut, you go for the eyelids, too. You savor each one because you know it could be your last, and when he strokes the back of his hand along your cheek, you lean into the touch.

“Pretty girl,” He hums, and you feel your cheeks get hot. Newly showered, you felt more put-together than you’d been before, but you’d spent the past two weeks in a pigsty of your own creation, so the compliment means more than he knows.

Apparently, he feels your cheeks grow hot, too. His fingers pick up on the warmth and he laughs again, this time only a normal amount of raspiness clinging to the sound., He’s hyper-affectionate, taking his chance to dot kisses over your features for a change. The giddiness in your chest as his lips press to your skin, mustache prickling it, makes it feel like your heart will burst. You feel undeserving as he showers you with the affection you’ve missed so much, but you’re greedy so you take it anyways, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Carole was taking pictures of you in secret.

“I have some good news,” The nurse reports, and you turn at her voice. She’s angled towards Carole, obviously having meant to leave you and Bradley be in your couple’s reverie, but when she notices that she has your attention too, she speaks to the group.

“Nothing abnormal was documented during your stay here,” She reads off of her chart, “It’s just the concussion and the broken ribs, which is remarkable for the accident you were in. You’re very lucky, Mr. Bradshaw. There was some smoke inhalation from the crash site but that’s not a major issue anymore, and if everything remains stable until dinnertime, you can go home tonight.”

“Oh!” Carole squeals, clapping delicately with her hands in her lap, “That’s fantastic!’

Bradley seems equally pleased, smiling wide, and it takes a lot of willpower to mirror his expression. He knocks his nose into your cheek and you feel his grin against your jaw, so you bring a hand up to scrub through the hair at the back of his neck.

“That’s great,” You conclude weakly, blaming the lull in your voice on being so close to Bradley and not wanting to talk too loud. Carole eyes you nervously, though, trying to mask the worry in her eyes with a smile.

“You should still rest,” The nurse advises, “Those ribs won’t be healed for close to a month, maybe more. And you can sleep through most of the concussion, too. What’s good about going home is it’ll be familiar to you, and it might help trigger those memories you’ve lost. They’re still not back?”

“Nope,” Bradley shakes his head, keeping it pressed to yours, “I got nothin’.”

“Alright,” The nurse hums sympathetically, tucking the chart into a cubby by the door, “We’ll bring lunch at around one, Mr. Bradshaw.”

“Thank you!” Carole calls after the nurse as she leaves, then she stands in her flowy skirt, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her shoulders.

“Miss Y/N,” She beams, “Bradley’s already had his breakfast. Have you eaten?”

“Uh, no,” You shake your head, “Not yet. Are you going to get something?”

“I am,” She nods, shouldering her purse, “Would you like some hospital pancakes, baby doll?”

“Here,” You stand, but Bradley grabs your hand, keeping you close to his bedside, “I can-”

“You can sit down,” Carole narrows her eyes at you, teasingly menacing, “Sit your butt back in that chair and be with your boyfriend, honey! I can manage two to-go boxes.”

“Thank you,” You gush, settling back into your seat and squeezing Bradley’s hand. He doesn’t let up on his heavy grip until you’re planted in your seat, and even when he does loosen his fingers he still holds you. Carole winks at you when you leave, and Bradley’s attention is solely on you the second the door shuts.

“Y/N,” He murmurs, and sometimes you forget your name isn’t baby or honey around him. You turn, now a little more nervous to be there now that your buffer is gone.

His big brown eyes are oozing their signature sweetness, a golden glint in them under the lights of the hospital room. He looks healthier now, even though you know his ribs hurt, and you’re oh-so-happy to have your Bradley back.

“I missed you,” You confess, and his face breaks into a grin. He nods, leaning up to kiss you, and you close the gap so that he doesn’t have to strain his probably sore muscles.

“I missed you, too,” He breathes, and you kiss him over and over and over again until you think you might be stealing the breath from his lungs. You let up, if only to keep him healthy, otherwise you’d never stop.

“I wasn’t sure when you were coming,” His lips close momentarily around your lower one while yours frame his top in a sweet peck.

“The cookies needed time to bake,” You lament, your mouth slightly dewy from his kiss, “Sorry, babe. I would have come faster, I- I should have gotten up earlier, but-”

“You’re here now,” He cuts off your worries, the heated skin of his face pressing against yours like he’s trying to stick to you, “That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah?” You hum dazedly, drunk on his love, “What about the cookies, do those matter?”

His eyes widen in consideration and he tilts his head to the side, mouth scrunching in a thoughtful frown, “Yeah, those matter too. Oatmeal raisin?”

“Oatmeal raisin,” You promise, digging through your purse, “Are you still on the hospital diet?”

“Honey,” He declares, sounding like his father's son as pride prickles his mustache, “I’d eat your cookies even if they killed me. Lay one on me, sugar.”

You snort at his cocky drawl, withdrawing a cookie from the bag in your purse. You break a piece off, hand-feeding him like his arms are still weak.

“Speaking of sugar,” You muse, stealing a bite of the treat for yourself and speaking with it pinched between your teeth, “I was thinking about baking together earlier. It was awful being alone, there was no one to eat the sugar out of the bowl.”

“Or drink the vanilla extract,” He cracks, and you laugh with glee.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking of!” You gush, taking his hand once more and squeezing it, “You gagged.”

“I don’t know! I just thought it’d taste good! I love vanilla,” He laments, only fuelling more laughter from you. 

“Yeah, well you got a lot of it,” You chuckle, “Anyways, it was weird not having you there. I had to do the dishes all by myself.”

“Poor baby,” He croons, half sincere and half teasing. He strokes a hand down your cheek that you yearn to kiss, but it goes by too fast, “How’d you manage?”

“I thought about you,” You confess, and some of that amusement in his eyes dims, giving way to complete and total admiration.

“Yeah?” He breathes, incredulous like he's twelve and he can’t believe his crush actually likes him. He’s always had that sort of puppyish aura about him, like you’re not just his girlfriend, you’re his best friend, and he’s always happy you’re along for the ride. It’s probably why he holds your hand so frequently, like he is now.

“Yeah,” You nod, flipping his palm in yours and tracing over the lines etched into it, “It’s not home there without you, Brad.”

“We go back tonight,” He smiles, keeping his voice low so that it doesn’t shatter the serenity around you, “Together.” You notice a sheen of tears over his eyes and you fall in love with him all over again, unable to hold yourself back from admiring how much he loves you. You really, really don’t know how you fucked this up.

“Yeah,” You croak, smiling weakly down at his hand instead of into his eyes, “Together.”

“Breakfast,” Carole sings, propping the door open with her foot as she steps inside. Your heads turn in sync, and you see her holding two plates, both covered with plastic lids. “Miss Y/N, three pancakes for you, and there’s syrup for days.”

“Thank you,” You rush to help her, and some piece of your heart stays in Bradley’s palm when you drop it. You suspect you won’t get it back unless he forgives you eventually, or maybe he’ll keep it even if he does. You trust him with it, he’ll take care of it.

You wish you'd offered him and his heart the same courtesy.

Carole hands you your breakfast and takes a seat on Bradley’s opposite side, caging him in between his two girls.

“You want some, baby?” Carole croons at Bradley, but he shakes his head.

“No thanks, ma,” He clears his throat, turning to face you with a puppy-eyed look that he’s had mastered since age three, “But I would love another bite of cookie?”

“Oh, take it,” You grumble, handing over the baked good for Bradley to devour, “But if your blood sugar rises, or something, it’s not my fault.”

“Won’t tell a soul,” Bradley promises, a mouthful of oatmeal raisin already impairing his speech, “Thanks, honey.”

“Mm-hm,” You nod, your mouth similarly stuffed with food. The pancakes are good, considering they came from a cafeteria that also serves tuna and jell-o.

“Y/N, baby,” Carole calls just as much sugar in her voice as is in her breakfast, “Pass me that syrup?”

She’s asking for a container you’ve got in your hand, half-empty. She doesn’t want to open a new one and waste the contents, so you pass it over, but a drizzle drips off of the side and lands on Bradley’s chin. 

He rears his head back as it falls, but he can’t burrow far enough into the pillow to dodge it. You squeal through your mouthful, swallowing quickly and painfully to rush out an apology you’re sure he doesn’t care about receiving.

“Sorry, Brad.” You curse your clumsiness, grabbing for a napkin but getting a better idea instead. You stand and lean over him to kiss the syrup off of his chin, feeling his face split into a grin while your lips are still attached to it. You can't keep a smile off of your face either, licking your lips clean of the stickiness.

“Cuties!” Carole giggles, just as giddy of a grin on her face as is on yours and Bradley’s. You’re sure she’s ecstatic to see you getting along so well, glad to know your acting isn’t just that.

“I was telling Bradley earlier,” You speak disjointedly through a mouthful of syrupy pancakes, “When I was baking his cookies, I was thinking about the times we’ve baked together. Wanna tell’er what you did, Brad?”

“Oh,” He groans, “No. Not fair, baby, I’m bed-ridden. I’m dying,” He sticks a protective hand over his ribs, now magically unable to lift his head from the pillow, “You can’t tell embarrassing stories of me to my mom.”

“I didn’t! I offered you the chance to tell it,” You roll your eyes, wary as you hear a nurse pass by the door. Bradley’s cookie is in plain sight, and he stuffs it into his mouth for safekeeping as the footsteps pass. No one comes in, though, and he struggles to finish his mouthful.

“Oh,” Carol gushes, “Somebody tell me! I wanna know, y’know I love teasin’ you, Brad.”

“Mom!’ He gawps through a mouthful of oatmeal, “Rude!”

“What’s rude is talkin’ with your mouth full,” Carole scolds, swatting him on the shoulder, “Swallow first, mister.”

“He ate-” You start, but Bradley lunges for you with impressive agility, twisting his torso to the side to clamp a hand over your mouth. You laugh, long and loud and brash while Bradley tries to muffle it. In his haste to silence you he tries saying ‘No!’ but he’s still got a mouthful of cookie, and the crumbs that don’t get caught in his mustache rain over your legs.

You’re still laughing. It’s messy, it’s gross, there’s half-chewed cookie on your lap, but Bradley’s holding you close, his strong arms around your head while he keeps a tight grip on your mouth. He’s laughing too, chest shaking as he tries powering through the mouthful of food that he’s got. Finally he swallows, but he doesn’t let go, only blows fruitlessly at the crumbs littering your pants.

“I’m sorry,” He pants, short of breath from chuckling, “If you hadn’t been so hellbent on embarrassing me, I wouldn’t have spewed raisins into your pancakes.”

“Gross! Okay!” You laugh uncontrollably into his palm between giggles, kissing at the skin there, “Okay. You win.”

He lets up only when you stop struggling, letting yourself sink into his embrace no matter how uncomfortable. A thought prods at the back of your mind like a lightning rod, sending a jolt of pain down your spine when it reminds you that this isn’t real. But you push it away, you don’t let it paralyze you, and your smile never falls.

“I’m sorry,” You hum to Bradley, while Carole watches you with amusement dancing in her pretty eyes, as well as in her movie star smile, “I just thought your mom would have liked to hear. That’s all.”

“She would,” Bradley nods, leaning back in his bed, finally at ease, “That’s why you can’t tell her.”

“You’re no fun,” She groans, and you finish up the last of your pancakes, gathering all of the trash (and cookie crumbs) to put them in the can. You have to let go of Bradley’s hand to make it across the room but when you’re by the door you stay there, your boyfriend’s eyes trained on you like a hawk.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” You reach for the doorknob, then, while he can't reach you, “Carole, he ate vanilla extract.”

The nurse down the hall gives you a strange look as you rush to shut the door on both Bradley’s indignant shout and Carole’s gleeful giggles.

“Does he need help?” He looks at you skeptically, and you shake your head.

“We’re teasing him,” You brush the nurse’s concerns away, “Where’s the gift shop?”

True to your word, you stop by the bathroom, but your real destination is the gift shop. There’s a stuffed bear inside with fur the exact caramel shade of Bradley’s hair, and you only wish it had a mustache. Otherwise, it’s identical, flight gear on and aviators over its eyes. 

“Hi,” You greet the cashier at the counter, handing over the bear and a book you plan on reading to him in your downtime, “Just these.”

While she rings up your purchase you hear the sliding doors behind you open, and you turn to see your dad and Nick enter. Their faces light up at the sight of you, and when the cashier gives you back the bear, you show it off to them.

“Just gotta get it a mustache,” Nick tugs softly on one of the bear’s ears, “Now that’s a good lookin’ bear!”

“I was gonna get’im a movie to watch,” Your dad beelines for the DVDs, but you pull him back.

“Dad,” You murmur, walking him and Nick towards the door, “He can just use his phone. Everything here is way too expensive.” You throw a kind smile at the cashier like you hadn’t just insulted her trade, “Thank you!”, and lead the way back to Bradley’s room.

The elevator ride almost goes sour when Nick tries pushing all of the buttons at once. You’re not sure how Carole has survived living with him for this long, but you swat his hands away with an incredulous shout.

“Don’t! I wanna get these back to him,” You beg, bear and book in hand, “I’ll bet he’s so bored.”

“You seen him already?” Your dad raises a brow, and you nod.

“Carole’s there, too,” You hum, “We just finished breakfast.”

“Does he ‘member anything new?” Goose asks, and that little lightning rod comes back, tazing your brain, burning one word into the matter there; liar, liar, liar. All of a sudden the elevator is too small, and you’d rather be anywhere but.

“Nope,” You shake your head, turning to face the doors of the elevator that ding, “Nothing.”

“Bradley!” Nick cheers, seeing his son alive and well, “Made it through the night?”

“Barely. Spent more time on my phone than I did asleep,” Bradley scoffs, and your heart skips a beat, not in a good way. Again you wonder if he’s found mystifying evidence of your breakup, an unfollow on instagram or a deletion of date nights from the calendar.

You’re sure he would have brought something up if he was confused, but you’re sneaking around, and it makes you paranoid enough to believe everything will fall apart at a moment’s notice. You have no peace, not when Bradley isn’t holding you.

“Well you’re going home tonight,” Carole reminds him, stroking over his cheek fondly, “You’ll get some good rest there, Brad.”

“Hey, alright!” Your dad whoops, “They’re cuttin’ you loose?”

“After dinner,” Bradley nods, “They said if nothing weird happens I can leave.”

“Congrats, Brad.” Nick claps him on the shoulder, standing in front of the seat you’d abandoned to go get his gifts.

His gifts!

You fumble with the bag in your hands, pulling the bear out first and passing it over.

“Oh, baby,” Bradley laughs, admiring its miniscule flight gear, “Bear’s almost as handsome as me.”

“Nah, a little more.” Pete squints at it, “It doesn't have that ugly mustache.”

“Hey!”, Father and son rage in unison, and Nick slaps your dad’s arm hard enough for Bradley, too.

“Uh, Carole,” You murmur, but the soft sound catches Bradley’s attention anyways. He’s drawn to you like a fly to honey, stuck in every last drop of your sweetness.

“I need to ask your mom a favor,” You smile down at Bradley, brushing hair away from his eyes, “Can we slip out?”

“Okay,” He hums skeptically, “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise,” You drag your voice out dramatically, leaning down to peck at his forehead. His skin is warm to the touch, and feels comforting against your lips.

“We’ll keep’im busy,” Nick declares, taking the book that you hand him, “Want me to read to you, Brad?”

“No.”

“Too bad! Ooh, Little Women. Wanna do voices with me, Mav?”

You and Carole step out before Nick or your dad could pull out any high-pitched giggles, and Bradley’s mom looks at you worriedly.

“What is it, baby doll?”

“I need help,” You confess, “If Bradley’s coming home tonight, he’s gonna notice a hell of a lot of stuff missing from our place. I just took everything I could grab and I ran,” You recall, dry swallowing at the thought of the boxes piled into your motel room, “I can’t put everything back by myself, and I- I don’t want to force you to help, but my dad and NIck can’t know, and-”

“Slow down, sugar,” She hums, reaching out to rub a soothing hand up and down your arm, “I’ll help you. What do we got, clothes and shoes?”

“And books, and toiletries, and... puzzles.” You concede drearily.

“Baby,” Carole arches a brow, looking almost sympathetically at you, “You brought puzzles with you?”

“I thought I’d be bored!” You reason, shoulders stiff to your ears, “But I haven’t had much of an appetite for puzzling.”

“Alright, I’ll help you,” She promises, “How long are we gonna need, honey?”

“A few hours,” You shrug, “We can carpool to base, I’ll pick up his Bronco, and we can head to the motel I’ve been at to get my stuff. We’ll need the extra space in the back of his car.”

“Okay! Okay,” Carole gushes, and you think she’s almost a little exhilarated by this spy operative, “Let’s stay for lunch, then we’ll go. We’ll say- uh, the house needs cleaning!”

‘Perfect,” You rub at your temples, “Thanks, Carole. And- and we’ll buy party decorations,” You snap your fingers, “I told him we were out here talking about a surprise, so we’ll throw a little welcome home thing tomorrow, have cake or something. That’s our alibi.”

“Got it! I’m off to the bathroom,” She heads down the hallway, “Get back in there!”

“-told you, I’m Jo!” Your dad is standing squared to Nick, eyes narrowed and shoulders tight, “It’s not fair that you get to be everyone!”

“Well if you did the voices right, I wouldn’t have to take over everything,” Nick huffs, “Tell’im Brad, that was a shitty Beth impression!”

“Both of you suck,” Bradley drawls, his eyes tracking you intently as you slip back into the room, “Baby, you okay?”

You shake off any residual nerves from your scheming with Carole, nodding as light-heartedly as you can, “Yeah! Yeah, Brad,” You take your seat beside him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tight, “I’m okay.”

He doesn’t look like he believes you. He's always good at reading you, and everything about you right now is a lie. You smile at him, leaning in to kiss his cheek, but he doesn’t react like you want him to, he still doesn’t believe you. He studies you when you pull away, and you laugh in defeat, “I promise, I’m just exhausted from all of this. But that shouldn’t matter, I wasn’t the one whose jet crashed! As soon as we get you home I’ll be fine.”

That seems to work, clearing away the worry swirling in Bradley’s honey-colored eyes. He nods, smiling softly, “Yeah, me too.”

He takes your hand, and you’re starting to wonder how you’d ever survived without holding his. You hadn’t held hands this frequently even when you’d been together, not that Bradley knows there’s a difference. Your heart aches for the man beside you, how shaken up he must be to cling to you like a lost puppy.

While Nick and Pete argue you feel Bradley’s fingers slip from yours, and it’s such an unexpected motion that you turn to watch him. He’s looking intently at your hand, though there's an absent-minded air about him, and your stomach drops when he ghosts his rough thumb gently over your ring finger. 

“Brad?” You murmur, trying to keep from choking up, “‘Love you.”

He smiles, eyes trained back on yours and full of tenderness, “Love you too, sweetheart. Where’s my mom?”

“Bathroom,” You drop your eyes down to his hands, studying his own bare ring finger. You hope you get to see it decorated one day.

“Do you want me to read to you?” You look back up at him, your nose nearly bumping his cheek. Nick has left the book on the side table near the foot of Bradley’s bed in order to gesture with both hands, and you’re sure they wouldn’t notice if you lit it on fire where it sat.

“I’d love for you to read to me,” Bradley laughs breathily, “I haven’t been hearing your voice much lately. Not like I used to.”

“I know,” You lament, hoping your voice doesn’t tremble. You know he means unobscured, private, without beeping in the background and the ever-present threat of a nurse coming in to kick you out, but you hadn’t heard Bradley’s voice in weeks, so you understand the internal yearning.

“Come here,” Bradley suggests when you fetch the book, offering up the right side of his bed. It’s small, nothing you wouldn’t attempt at home but something you don’t want to risk in the hospital.

“No, it’s okay, Brad.” You shake your head, trying to pat the blankets down around him but he doesn’t let you, reaching for your thigh.

“No, I don’t wanna hurt you!” You insist, standing when he tries dragging you into the bed with him, “It’s okay, Brad, let’s just sit. We can be closer when we’re home, but for now I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He looks crushed. Really, truly crushed, his brown eyes holding such a vulnerable look in them that you feel like you’ve just punted a puppy across a football field.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” You repeat, swallowing thickly as tears prick at your eyes. You lean down to kiss his forehead, “I’m scared, Bradley.”

You’re scared about more than just that. You haven’t held him in weeks, nor has he held you. You’re afraid that you might never recover from this, but if he wraps his arms around you, buries his face in your hair and holds you close, you know you never will. You’ll spend the rest of your days living in regret, and your self-preservation instinct is kicking in again.

“Don’t be afraid,” Bradley murmurs, though he doesn’t need to be quiet now that Nick and your dad have stopped bickering. They’re stealing sneaky glances at the two of you, acting like their sunglasses stop them from being noticed even though their heads are turned towards you.

His words strike something within you that he didn’t mean for them to. He’s spoken unknowingly to your outstanding promise with yourself, that you won’t run away because something is scary. And your promise to Carole, as well, that you’ll make her son feel loved before he remembers that love wasn’t enough to make you stay.

“Bradley,” You breathe, book in one hand as you use the other to stroke through his hair. You’re standing at his bedside and he takes advantage of your proximity, sitting up and off of his pillows to lean his head against your stomach. 

You’re glad he can’t see your face, because tears rush from your eyes in seconds. He’s a sweet man whose brain operates on love first, and thought second, so when he hooks his arms around your waist and nestles his face into your tummy, you know it’s his instinct to hold you. 

At the sight of your tears the other men in the room decide to take their leave, smiling sadly at you while you comb your fingers through Bradley’s hair. 

“We’ll give you some time,” Your dad whispers, but Bradley can hear just fine, “Bye, honey.”

You aren’t able to offer them a wave in response, but they know you appreciate it. 

Once more the sterile hospital room is inhabited by only you and Bradley. Souls intertwined, tangled in some places and parallel in others, you hold him, stroking through his hair and praying he never picks his face up out of your stomach. There’s snot threatening to run down your lip but you don’t dare sniffle at the thought of ruining the moment, keeping your chest deathly still where it yearns to shake with sobs.

“I love you,” You whimper, dropping the book to cage his head to your belly, “I love you, Bradley, I- I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” He speaks into your stomach, and the sound vibrates through your body, warming you with a tingly sensation like the one you’d gotten from your very first kiss with Bradley.

You’re sure he knows you’re crying now, now that your voice drips with tears and your hands shake in his scalp. He doesn't break away, though, only tugs you closer, keeping his face nestled to your body as he pulls you into a sitting position on his lap. You’re mindful of his broken ribs, but there’s nothing wrong with his thighs, so when you land on top of them, you let yourself rest there. 

Bradley’s wormed his nose against your cheek, no longer snug in your stomach but flush to your face instead. He holds you like he used to, before you spooked and ran, before he fell out of the sky in a blaze of flames, before anything in your life was complicated. He holds you like he held you when you were just Y/N and Bradley, cradling your face to his chest and tucking his chin over your head.

“You’re hurting, too,” He murmurs, rocking you ever-so-slightly back and forth as you sit sideways on his lap. He keeps you tucked to his chest, smooths your hair with one hand and holds your waist with the other. 

“I’m the one that went down but you’re the one who got that phone call,” He moves his hand from your hair to your back, scratching aimlessly there, “You’re allowed to be upset over that. You don’t have to pretend like nothing is wrong just because I’m in the hospital. I don’t want you to pretend to be strong if it’s only gonna make you weaker. Talk to me, honey, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t!” You wail, clutching his hospital gown and praying you aren’t hurting his ribs, “Bradley, I- I can’t tell you. I can’t do that to you, not here, not now. I’m scared,” You weep, “I’m really scared, Bradley.”

“Don’t be. You’re okay,” He promises, pecking a soft kiss against the crown of your head, “Baby, you’re safe with me. You don’t have to be scared of anything. Of talking, or feeling, or hurting. That’s what I’m here for, angel, to talk with you, to feel with you, to hurt with you. That’s what love is, honey, and I love you, you know I do.”

His voice wobbles slightly on the last fragment of his sentence, and you don’t think you can handle seeing him cry. You’re terrified out of your mind, but determined just the same not to run, and it’s stuck you in this awful paralyzed state. All you can do is hold Bradley, all you can do is let him hold you, and hope that his memories never return.

“I don’t want to stress you out,” You mourn, picking your head up from his chest to press it to his face instead. You want to fuse yourself to him, so that he couldn’t cast you away if he tried.

“I’m stressed about whatever you’re not telling me,” He laughs sadly, a soft huff of air from his chest, “Baby, it makes me stressed knowing you’re shutting yourself in like this. Knowing there’s stuff going on up here that you don’t want to talk to me about.” 

He taps your head, then smooths his hand down the nape of your neck to rub at your back.

“Tell me,” He begs, voice raw with despair, “Please, angel, tell me what you’re feeling.”

You owe him the truth. Concealing the truth was one thing. Sneaking around, covering up behind his back so that he didn’t notice anything peculiar was a preventative measure. But now he’s asked for your honesty, now it’ll be lying if you don’t tell him. Now you’ll be lying to him, really and truly lying to him, and you can’t bring yourself to do it. You choose honor this time, sniffling hard and bracing your hand on his chest so that you can look him in the eyes if you feel brave enough.

“Bradley,” Your words roll off of your tongue with the weight of steel, and you have to force them out of your throat to get them to go at all, “I want to be honest with you. But I’m scared-” Your face crumples, and you fight to right it, “But- but that’s not fair to you. It’s not fair for me to shut you out, You’re right, you-” You falter, the pitch of your voice wobbly as you take a deep breath, “You love me. And I know I can be honest with you.”

“You can,” Bradley promises, stroking his knuckles over your cheek. He stares into your eyes, and you stare into his only to get a last glimpse of their sweet honey-like hue.

“You should know,” You drop your eyes, unable to confess while looking into his, “I love you, Bradley. I always have, and I always will.”

“I love you, too,” He promises, “Now what’s the matter, honey?”

“It’s-”

“Mr. Bradshaw?” A nurse steps into the room, and instantly the moment is shattered. There’s no picking up the pieces, no glue in the world strong enough to repair the bravery you’d mustered up to be honest with Bradley. 

He looks annoyed at her interruption, something you know he wouldn’t normally feel towards anyone doing their job, but he refrains from snapping at her.

“Yes?”

“We need to run some vital tests. Blood sugar, heart rate, breathing, the like. After they’re cleared, we’ll know if you can return home or not.”

From his hold on you, you gather that there’s nothing Bradley would rather do less in the world than let you go, and there’s nothing you’d rather do less than let him, but you peel away from him reluctantly, standing where you’d been tucked into his lap. He settles back against his pillows that you’re sure are cold now, and you tuck the blanket beneath his thigh to keep him warm.

He ducks his gaze and you see tears lining his eyes that you want to wipe away, but he grabs for your hand again, and you hope that’s enough for him.

The nurse pokes and prods at him, reads machines and scribbles their information down, and the door opens once again before she’s done conducting her tests. Carole, Nick, and Pete step back through the doors, smiling sheepishly at you. You have a sneaking suspicion that Nick and your dad had held Carole off from coming back to the room while you spoke, which you’re grateful for. You just wish you'd had a little more time.

“Alright,” The nurse claps, smiling cheerily like she hadn’t just shattered your moment, “You are in good shape, Mr. Bradshaw. Your blood sugar is a little high,” She notes with a furrowed brow, and you shoot a knowing glance at Bradley, “But everything else seems right. Your ribs should heal within a few weeks time, and once you get back home and see familiar surroundings, your memories should return. All you need to do is rest, once I get these processed and signed off by the doctor, you’ll be good to go!”

“Thank you,” Carole gushes, while Bradley just nods with a tight smile on his face, jaw tight in irritation at the four unwanted parties in the room.

“Goin’ home, big guy.” Nick grins at Bradley as the nurse makes her leave. He claps his son on the leg and this time Carole doesn’t intervene, “What’s the first thing you’re gonna do?”

“Shower,” Bradley rasps, “There’s ash in my hair.”

“Not anymore,” You showcase your hands, dust and ash clinging to the spaces between your fingers from when you’d run them through Bradley’s hair. 

He laughs at the sight, “Still. The second thing on my list is sleep, and I don’t want to get anything on the sheets.”

“Good plan,” Carole beams at her son, hooking her arm around yours, “Baby, we should head out. We’ve got lots to do for this surprise of yours,” She gloats at Bradley, then turns back to you, “But you should wash your hands first, honey.”

“Okay,” You nod, eager to get out of a situation you’d been so courageous in only minutes before, “I’ll- um, get my stuff.”

You bend towards your purse, taking the bag of cookies out, “If your blood sugar rises and lands you in here for another night,” You warn, “I’m never making these again.”

“Yes ma’am,” Bradley nods, but your dad is the one to take the bag, not him.

“Don’t steal them,” You narrow your eyes at your dad and Nick, “And don’t get caught feeding him any. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am!” They echo Bradley, standing at attention. You scoff, turning back to Bradley and leaning down to meet him where he lays back on his pillows.

“I love you,” You hum, and he’s already reaching out for you before you can touch him. He sits upright, grabbing for your hands and tilting his face upwards to beg for a kiss.

“I love you, too,” He mumbles, speaking lowly against your lips as you kiss him. When you pull away he wants more, keeping your hands firmly in his grip when you try to leave.

“Bradley,” You let out a soft laugh, but you kiss him again anyways, knowing he’s still reeling from being a second away from finding out the truth, the extent of which he’s not prepared for.

“It’s okay,” You whisper against his lips, pressing your forehead to his, “We’ll talk later.”

”Yeah,” He nods, arching up into your embrace even though he knows he has to let you leave.

He calls out again before you leave, “Love you!” And you repeat it with a sad smile on your face, letting Carole take your hand while Nick and your dad sit at Bradley’s bedside. The last you see of him is his fading grin as you wave goodbye before the door shuts, and you’re in the hallway.

“Something happened in there,” She gushes, misplaced excitement shining from her eyes like a sunbeam, “I just know it! He was all lovey-dovey when you left, even moreso than usual. He really didn’t want you to go, angel.”

“I almost told him,” You mutter as Carole leads you to the elevator, nerves churning your stomach.

“What?” Her smile drops in surprise, and she stomps to a halt on the tiled floor. She presses the button, and when the elevator dings she ushers you inside.

“He asked me to be honest with him,” You recall, sick at the thought of how close you’d been to losing him, “And- and he was holding me, Carole, like he used to. And I couldn’t help it, I just- I wanted to tell him everything, I couldn’t stand lying to him and pretending nothing was wrong. But I- I don’t know if I can do that again. I don’t know if I can tell him the truth. I tried, and we got interrupted, I mean- isn’t that a sigh? Some sort of clue left by the universe to tell me to wait a little longer?”

“Baby I don’t think the universe is sendin’ you clues,” Carole looks sympathetically at you, “I think you’re lookin’ for reasons to run away again. I know I’m the one that told you to pretend, but that boy can read you like a book, and if he’s catchin’ on, maybe you ‘oughta give it up. I saw him in there, honey.” The door dings and slides open, and she takes your hand to lead you outside, “There’s nothin’ he wouldn’t forgive you for. He was clinging onto you like a leech, and I think he’d understand you were scared. Might not like it, but he’d understand.”

“He keeps saying that I’ll never lose him, or- or that he loves me, or that I can tell him what’s bothering me,” You gesture with your free hand as you walk to the parking lot, “And- and it feels so perfect! Like he knows exactly what I need to hear. Like I could tell him and nothing would change. But everything would change, and- and I don’t want that,” You suppress a sob as you reach Nick and Carole’s car, pulling open the door to the passenger’s side. 

She stashes her purse by your feet, stuffing the key into the ignition, “Baby, everything’s already changed. He just doesn’t know that. But he will soon, and once he does, he’s gonna realize why you’ve been acting so weird. If you were pullin’ it off, I’d say keep going. If he wasn’t asking questions, you could keep this up, ‘cause you’d be doing him a favor. That was the whole point, baby, to let him down nice and easy, give him a bit of time to adjust to the crash before confessing about the breakup. But I should’ve known he’d realize you were lyin' to him,” She scoffs, checking her mirrors, “That boy would notice you’d changed your haircut from just your voice on the phone. He knows you too well, honey, and if he’s askin’ all the right questions and you’re giving him all the wrong answers, that’s gonna stress him out. And that’s doing the opposite of what we want. If this is just gonna make things worse, I say tell him. But-” She backs out of the spot, en route to base to fetch his car, “Not yet. Wait until you’re home. Then he’s in a familiar environment, you can kneel by the bedside and grovel if you want,” She waves a hand in the air, “Just be honest with him baby, if it’s what he’s askin’ for.”

She barely lets you mull her words over before she starts again, “I think it’s a good time. You told me that when you left, you wish you hadn’t. And you’ve spent the last two days showing that to him, even if he doesn’t know that’s what you’re doing. He knows you love him, and I think he’ll forgive you if you confess that you were just scared of losing him. ‘Cause you can’t fake love like that, honey.” She eyes you through the mirror, “You can pretend y’all never broke up, but the way you love him, that’s not pretend, and he knows that.”

“I’ll tell him tomorrow,” You sniffle, “If he doesn’t know by then. I- I know I have to, even if it’s scary.”

“Atta girl,” She gushes, nearly flooring it at a green light in her excitement, “I’m proud of you, baby.”

“Don’t be,” You grumble, ‘Not yet. Not until I do it.”

“I know you will,” She decides, “You’ve never lied to me before.”

“Actually,” You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, “I have, once.”

She narrows her eyes, gives you a sideways glance as she makes a turn, “Oh, really? And when was that?”

“Uh, when we were in high school, I told you Bradley and I were staying at my place while my dad was gone,” Your face twists into an involuntary smile at the memory, “We went to Vegas.”

“What?” She shrieks, almost stomping on the breaks, “Vegas?”

“It was just for a night! And we didn’t gamble,” You scoff, “They wouldn’t let us into any casinos.”

“Ooh, you two,” She seethes, but it’s happened so long ago that she can’t be mad, not really, “Surprised y’all didn’t get married down there.”

“Actually,” You laugh, “We tried. But you weren’t there to sign off on it, and we were only 17.”

She shares a laugh with you at the memory, pulling into the security checkpoint outside of the naval base. You have to pass your ID over her, and you explain that you’re just picking up your partner’s car. They let you in, but you don’t think they like your presence very much, so you get the car and go as quickly as you can.

“It’s the motel just off the freeway,” You gesture in the direction of the place you’ve been staying, “We’ll load up the Bronco and meet back at our place.”

“See you there, babydoll,” Carole grins, already headed for the exit.

You roll up your window just as your phone buzzes, and you put the call on speaker while your phone balances on the cupholder.

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” Bradley’s voice bleeds through the crackly speakers. Then, like an attached toddler their first night away from mom, “I miss you.”

It’s just what you need to hear after your gut-wrenching conversation with Carole, and you croon while waving to the security officers on the way out, “I miss you too, Brad. I picked up your car. Didn’t want her sitting all alone on base.”

“Thanks, babe,” You can hear the grin in his voice, “Is my mom still with you?”

“No, she’s driving herself,” You merge lanes, brain on autopilot as you head for the motel, “And don’t ask what we’re doing, it’s a surprise.”

He scoffs; you’ve caught him, “Fine. They gave me lunch. It’s the same as yesterday.”

“Poor baby,” You coo, feeling more at home in Bradley’s Bronco than you had in your half-empty house, “I’ll make you something good for breakfast tomorrow, baby. Eggs, pancakes, waffles, sausage, bacon, fruit, whatever you want to eat.”

He takes a pause, then, “I have something inappropriate to say. But your dad’s still here, so I can’t.”

You let out a bark of bewildered laughter, especially when you can hear your dad’s voice in the background as he groans.

“I get the idea,” You promise him, and you hear Bradley huff a soft laugh into the speaker. You almost want to record the call, just to keep the sound forever.

“When are you guys coming back?”

“I don’t know, Brad,” You lament, tailing Carole as she heads for the freeway exit, “Hopefully before dinner. But if not, I’ll definitely be there when you get discharged, and I can drive you home.”

“And we can shower,” Bradley adds on to your sentence, eliciting another disgruntled sound from your dad, “And sleep.”

“And we can shower and sleep,” You promise, chest feeling light at the night’s plan. You’re pulling into the motel parking lot now, the dingy sign colored more in spiderwebs than in neon.

“I’ve gotta go, Brad.” You put the car in park, grabbing your phone and switching speaker off, “I love you. I’ll see you later, okay?”

He’s hesitant to answer, and you wish you didn’t have to hang up. You know he’s still uneasy about the way that your talk ended earlier, but he finally speaks up, “Alright. Love you, too.”

“So much,” You hum, “Love you so much.”

“So much,” He agrees, more of that audible grin in his voice, “See you later, angel.”

“See ‘ya,” You hum, and it doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would to hang up, not after that.

Carole’s standing ready at the strip of doors, and you pull the small, rusty key out of your pocket. There’s nearly ten boxes stacked in your room, and you prop the door open with one as you gather anything that isn’t packed away.

You haven’t changed clothes much since being there, nor have you been keeping up with your hygiene as well as you should be, so the clean-up process feels like a day's worth, not two week’s worth. But you’re thankful for the easy pickup as you load it into a half-empty box, hauling it out the door and to the Bronco.

Packing the boxes goes fast when you work with Carole. It had been much more of a struggle to cart two at a time from your place to the motel room, but with a little maneuvering, all nine boxes fit snugly between her car and yours.

“Alright,” You dust off your hands, picking at the edge of your nail, “You ready?”

“Actually, you go home,” She decides, “And I’ll go to the party supply store. I’ll pick up some ‘Welcome Home’ stuff, and when I get back I’ll help you with the rest of the boxes, and we can set up together.”

“Perfect,” You heave a sigh of relief, “Thanks, Carole.”

“Of course, baby!” She seems to have a never-ending supply of optimism, one that you’re thankful for because you seem to harbor the opposite.

Hauling your boxes back into the house is unexpectedly the easy part. What’s harder is putting everything back, filling in the gaps in the bookshelf with your own volumes, stuffing the dresser with the clothes you’d chosen to take with you.

When Carole gets back you’re dragging your thumb over the shirt you’d taken off of your pillow, ready to fold it and destroy the evidence of its association with your two-week disappearance. She peeks into the bedroom, expecting to find you hard at work organizing your novels, and instead sees you sitting on the bed looking like you’re going to puke.

“Baby,” She hums, “What’s the matter?”

“He put this over my pillow,” You sniffle, staring down forlornly at the object that had offered comfort to Bradley when you hadn’t, “He slept with it.”

“Oh, baby,” Carole whispers, standing behind you and rubbing your shoulders, “He loves you. Isn’t that a good thing? Don’t you think it means everything’ll turn out okay?”

“What if he doesn’t want me back?”

For the first time, you say it out loud. You’ve insinuated it, sure, thought about it, but you’ve never said it yet. Not out loud. You voice the fear that’s been bouncing around like a balloon in your head, popping it and feeling the aftershocks flow through you. 

She’s quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say any more than you do. But she bends down, wraps her arms around your shoulders and hums, “He will, baby. He’s been sleepin’ with your shirt this whole time, he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t miss you.”

“But even if he misses me, I still hurt him,” You sniffle, “I- I left, is missing me enough for him to want me back in his life? What if I went too far? What if we can’t come back from this? What if I lose him forever, Carole?”

“He kept my ring.” She murmurs, her voice the calm to your storm. 

“What?”

“He kept it. Even though it wasn’t on your finger, he didn’t give it back to me. And he wouldn’t dare give that to anyone else, Y/N. It’s your ring, he knows it. That’s why he kept it, ‘cause he still wanted you to have it. He loves you even if you did hurt him, baby,” She sniffles, and you feel bad that you’ve made her cry, “That’s what love is. Sometimes you hurt each other, but if it’s love you find your way back. And what you’ve got is the strongest love I’ve ever seen.”

Your silence is enough of a reply, and you’re glad because it’s all you can muster. You can’t find the words to thank her, to tell her you hope she’s right, to beg to whatever deity exists for mercy. All you can say is, “I don’t wanna take it off,” As you stroke a finger down the shirt over your pillow.

“Wear it,” She suggests, pulling at the sweatshirt you’re wearing, “Put that on underneath it, baby. He won’t notice, and you can have it on you as a reminder that he misses you. Maybe it’ll give you the courage to tell him.”

“Okay,” You sniff, a stray tear drying sticky on your cheek as you stand. She turns you around and pulls you into a real hug, and you let her squeeze you before going to the bathroom to change.

The shirt smells like Bradley now that he’s slept with it for two weeks. You’re sure you’re just immune to your own scent, and that he could still find traces of it to lull him to sleep at night, but wearing it now feels just as comforting as you bet it felt for him to sleep with it.

When you wander out of the bedroom you find Carole in the living room. She’s standing on your coffee table with her right leg, and her left is on the arm of the couch. She’s pinning a banner to the wall, ‘Welcome Home Bradley!’.

“Hey honey!” She beams at the sight of you in your shirt, you’d forgone the jacket to not overheat while moving things around. 

“Do you need help?” You watch her drive a pin into the wall with her thumb, and she shakes her head as she reaches down for another one, “No, I’ve got this. You just take care of your boxes, I can handle the party.”

“Yeah, you get the fun part,” You tease, and she laughs.

“Darlin’, I wasn’t the one to take my puzzles and run. Now go put ‘em back, I’m sure they’re the first things Brad’ll notice are missing when he gets home.”

You head back into the bedroom without any complaints. It’s hard to put everything back. No, it’s nice to put everything back. What’s hard is pretending it was never gone in the first place; what’s hard is lying.

You slide a lone book into its place on the shelf, one last spot left beside a photo album. Your fingers brush over a gemstone on the cover and you tug at the hefty spine, catching the jam-packed book before it can fall.

“Wow,” You breathe, barely aware that you’re speaking out loud. The cover showcases Bradley pressed up against the hospital’s nursery glass, peering in on a very sleepy baby you snoozing in her bassinet with Carole holding him up. You’d been born shortly after Bradley, not even a year, and he’d been very excited to meet his new best friend at the hospital.

A flip to the first page finds you in your dad’s old apartment, sleeping in your crib while Bradley’s hand wraps around the bars he’d pulled himself up on. Then the next page showcases a photo of him in the crib, curled up in the space by your feet while you sleep peacefully in your own spot.

You take the photo out of its sleeve, flipping it over to read the inscription you know by heart on the back: Bradley’s attached to Y/N at the hip. Won’t sleep anywhere else.

The next photos are more of the same. Bradley holding you on the couch, a gummy grin on his face at the baby in his arms. His hands barely bigger than yours, handing you a toy fighter jet. Tummy time on a play mat, where he’s holding a rattle just out of reach to get you to crawl like he’d seen your parents do. A shot of you tugging on his wispy hair, then a shot of Nick dragging a crying Bradley into his lap while your dad holds your previously clenched fist open. They tell their own story.

You’d been fated best friends from the start, but as you age in the photos, your relationship changes. All of a sudden there’s puppy love in your gaze when you reach your tween years, braces in your mouth and hearts in your eyes. There’s a picture of Bradley teaching you how to skateboard, and you're holding his hands for dear life. You distinctly remember a fiery flush to your cheeks in that moment, and you’re glad the camera hadn’t captured it. There’s New Year’s Eve in your matching pajamas, you cradled in Bradley’s arms like they’d make you pose every year since you’d come into the world. It was cute when you were kids, then it was embarrassing when you were teenagers, and now it’s cute again. In the photo you’re looking at you can’t be more than fourteen, and you know the second the shutter clicked on the camera, you’d scrambled out of his arms like they were burning you. 

You flip through more pages, watching your relationship blossom from friends into lovers. All of a sudden you’re holding hands, you’re matching outfits, and you’re kissing when you think no one is looking. Then there’s the famous picture of Bradley on his 18th birthday, glaring at the camera with a box of condoms in his hands, courtesy of his dad. Funnily enough, your dad shares Bradley’s expression in the background. The inscription on the back of that one reads: Just making sure he’s safe! Don’t want any grandkids, not while I’m still in my glory days - Goose.

That New Year’s Eve photo is special. It’s you still cradled in Bradley’s arms like always, but you’ve leaned up to kiss him, and he’s leaned down to kiss you. You distinctly remember it being the first time you’d willingly kissed on camera in front of your parents, and the giddy smiles you’d forced into makeshift puckers are clear as day in the photo. 

The matching pajama sets you’ve outgrown together are all stored in a box marked ‘sentimental’, not one that you’d taken with you when you’d left. You have a current pair, red and black buffalo print bottoms with fuzzy black tops, and you plan on asking Bradley to wear them tonight.

You haven’t noticed, but a smile has grown on your face, etching itself into your features as you relive your love story. You flip through family vacations, holidays, birthdays, sports games, barbecues, a million family events that Bradley joined you at. There’s never any of you apart, even though he’d been moved around for his career, because no one has ever thought to take a picture of one of you without the other. There’s no Y/N in this book, there’s no Bradley, there’s only Y/N and Bradley, and that’s what you want to be for the rest of your life. You want to fill out the rest of this book with aging photos, clearer in quality while the old ones yellow. You want to stuff this book until the bindings rip, you want to look back through it one day in a rocking chair beside one of Bradley’s own, faces wrinkled and hair grayed. Your story can’t end here.

Your phone buzzes on the bed, and you drop the photo album there while you check your message. No surprise, it’s from Bradley.

- The doctor signed off, I can go home after dinner, which shouldn’t be too much longer. How’s it going over there?

That’s great! You type back, biting a smile off of your face as you respond. It’s residual from looking through the photos, but you have to remember, you’re not there yet. It’s going good. Your mom is scary agile.

- What’s she doing?

Can’t tell you ;)

- Damn! Thought I had you there. Your dad’s eating one of my cookies :(

Tell him I said to leave you alone!

- He says you’re not the boss of him.

Tell him your mom said to leave you alone.

- He says she’s not the boss of him.

Tell your dad to tell him to leave you alone. She’s his boss.

- My dad’s eating one too :( 

Those assholes! I’ll make you more, baby ❤

- I love you best. ❤

I love you too baby ❤

The lingering fear of a breakup - a real one this time, one that doesn't rewind itself amidst burning jet fuel - is stuck in the back of your mind, and you suspect it will be until you finally confess. But the photo album and Bradley’s messages have combined to lift your spirits, and filing your shoes back into their places doesn’t weigh you down as much as you suspected it would. You try to make them look haphazard, jumbling them with Bradley’s and turning a few of them upside down. You two are notorious for having out of control shoe collections, Bradley’s sneakers and your own shoes constantly tumbling out of the closet like a cartoon.

 By the time the sun starts setting early on your California dream you’re nearly done, there’s just a few last garments to slip into your closet. You do so while wrestling with the clothes that are already in there, a hefty collection that leaves little room for the dress you’re trying to wedge inside. Nevertheless, a too-full closet is better than a half-empty one.

“Sugar?” Carole calls from down the hallway, hopefully not precariously balanced on any furniture this time, “Nick says they’re just serving Brad his dinner.”

You finally manage to set the clothes right on their hangers, panting slightly as you withdraw from the closet, “Okay! I’m almost done. We have a lot of clothes.”

She laughs, “Yes you do! You should eat somethin’ before we leave.”

“There’s no food here,” You sigh, “The fridge is empty. I’ll have to go shopping later. I’ll just stop for fast food on the way.”

“Party’s all set up,” Carole nods, jerking her head back towards the hallway, “If you keep the lights off in the living room tonight, he won’t see it until tomorrow.”

“Okay. Are you coming over to celebrate?”

“Yeah, I was thinkin’ for breakfast,” Carole nods, “We can bring food?”

You laugh huffily, “I wasn’t kidding about there being nothing in the fridge. Anything’s appreciated, thanks, Carole.”

“Anytime, baby,” She beams, but reconsiders with a slightly furrowed brow, “Although, I hope this is the only time.”

“Me too,” You scoff, “Alright, let’s head back.”

True to your word, you pull through a fast-food drive-thru on the way back to the hospital. Carole knows Nick’s order, and you know your dad’s, hopeful that they’ll be tired of hospital cuisine and yearning for a burger instead.

However, when you get there, they’re waiting in the lobby, Bradley sat between them. You hadn’t realized how early they were letting him out, and Carole takes the bag of food from you so that you can properly hug Bradley. He stands the moment he sees you, eyes pooling with such urgency as he tries to respect the no-running rule of the hospital. You struggle just the same, and the moment you’re within arms reach of each other, tears start flowing. Bradley yanks you into his chest, almost tipping you forwards and himself backwards with the momentum of his hug. His chin nestles straight over your shoulder, as does yours to his, and it’s the kind of hug you get from him after a long deployment, maybe even more desperate now. His breathing is ragged beside your ear, but not from his medical conditions, from the desperation clogging his lungs. His fist is tight in the back of your sweatshirt but the fabric is loose on you, and it’s not a tight enough hold for him. His fingers scrabble for the shirt beneath the hoodie, gripping onto both garments and keeping you closer than you ever thought you could be with Bradley. Your hands immediately encircle his shoulders, and your fingers find purchase against the baby hairs at the back of his neck. You scratch through the ones at his nape, hearing him sniffle sharply where his chin rests on your shoulder. The hand that isn’t fisted in your clothes is tight to your hip, gripping you so hard that you can feel his nails through the jeans you’re wearing. It’s not painful, it’s just firm, and its strength is reassuring. It’s grounding to hug Bradley again, unobscured by breathing tubes, hospital beds, or prying nurses.

You hear someone’s phone camera sound off, but you’re far from discouraging it. In fact, you’re going to ask whoever it was to send you the photo later. The hug turns into an embrace, one where you sway lightly from side to side, anything that isn’t you or Bradley fading into the background. Your eyes are screwed shut but tears still cascade down your cheeks, melancholy waterfalls that drip off of the curve of your chin and stain Bradley’s t-shirt. He’s dressed in what he’d been wearing beneath his flight suit, the material thankfully not ripped or burnt thanks to the coveralls. You take the lead, pulling back, but he keeps the same level of contact with you. When your chin slips from his shoulder he grabs your face instead, using it to keep you pressed tight to his body. His eyes are teary themselves, streaks of the shimmery stuff down his cheeks and probably in his mustache, too.

“Hi,” You croak, smiling giddily through your tears. 

He smiles, though the chubbing of his cheeks nudges a few more tears out of his eyes, “Hi.”

You smear them away with the palm of your hand, and use your thumb to rid him of the ones clinging to his undereyes. His hands are on your cheeks, too, and he tries mirroring your ministrations, but his thumbs are too shaky to do so. For fear of poking your eyes out, he clamps his hands over your cheeks again, content with holding you while your tears run over the hills and valleys of his fingers.

“You’re standing,” You marvel, ‘I thought you’d be in a wheelchair.”

“It hurts a little bit,” Bradley admits with a slight grimace, and you back away like you’ve been struck. He doesn’t let you get far at all, dropping your face to tug you back by your waist, “-but I’d rather break another rib than let you go.”

“Sap,” You accuse, and Bradley laughs.

His lips twist into a sheepish smile, “Maybe. You can be my tree. I’m stuck on you.”

You sniffle, brow furrowing, “Huh? ‘Cause of the sap thing?”

“Yeah,” He laughs, “Isn’t that what it means? Sticky and sweet like tree sap?”

“I don’t know,” You breathe bashfully, your voice rife with part confusion and part sheepishness, “I guess that makes sense. But I’ve never been called a tree before.”

“I’ll work on my flirting,” He promises, stroking his thumbs up and down your sides in soft, soothing motions, “Can we go home now?”

You nod, “You should hug your mom first.” Only then does Bradley remember that you’re not the only other person in the room, turning in your grip to see your mini crowd of adoring onlookers.

He chuckles, “Sorry. Hi, mom.”

“Hi baby,” She gushes, letting him squeeze her in a hug. He’s much more gentle with her, out of longing for you, not disrespect.

Nick reaches over to ruffle his hair and your dad nudges you sideways, “Happy to have him back?”

“Yeah,” You gush, a breathless whisper, “Nervous, though,” You admit, “What if he slips in the shower, or something? Or- or some freak accident happens and he doesn’t wake up?”

“He will,” Your dad slings an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you close by your shoulders, “He’ll be alright, kid. And hopefully by tomorrow he’ll remember everything, maybe look at some pictures tonight to jog his memory. Show him stuff you took of these past few weeks, the places you went or the food you ate.”

You don’t have any pictures of your pitiful motel room, nor the candy bars you’d raided the minifridge for, but you wouldn’t show them to Bradley if you did.

You nod, breaking away when Bradley searches for you after his hug with Carole, “Thanks, dad.”

“You gonna be okay getting settled tonight, Brad?” Nick asks, already bringing a french fry to his mouth from the bag in his hand. Your dad has your food as well as his own, and you take your bag back from him as Bradley nods.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Thanks, guys.”

Everyone says their hasty goodbyes, and your hug with Carole lasts a second longer than you hope anyone notices.

“Tell him.” She whispers against your ear, the words a feather light breath, “He loves you.”

“I’ll feed you in the car,” Bradley grabs the bag of food from your hand when you nudge him towards the exit, “Can I have fries?”

“You’ve been on a diet of chicken and potatoes for two days,” You take the hand that he offers you, curling your fingers around his, “You can have the whole burger if you want, Brad.”

Bradley stops short in front of the bronco when he sees it, “There she is!”

“She’s here,” You laugh, “Perfect condition. The air freshener’s still good.”

“Poor baby,” He heads for the passenger’s seat, swiping a hand over the hood of the car on his way, “She probably thought we forgot about her.”

He settles comfortably in the passenger’s seat, though you’re sure it feels awkward to be there in his own car. He throws his head back against the seat and sighs, long and loud, a noise he would have made fun of his dad for making mere years ago.

“Comfy?” You glance sideways at him, your food in his lap while he rests against the seat. He nods, reaching for the bag as you start up the engine.

“Here baby,” He calls, popping two fries in front of your mouth just before you turn out of the parking lot, “Fries.”

You carefully bite them out of his hand, tipping your head back to get them fully into your mouth. You mumble ‘thanks’ through them, and you’re not sure if he can make out what you’re saying, but you hope it’s obvious.

“I can’t wait to get in bed,” He groans, “I know it’s only been a few days, but I can’t remember being there for three weeks.”

“It’s cold without you,” You hum forlornly, checking your blind spot before merging, your hands stiff on the wheel. Your words leave more of an aftertaste on your tongue than the fries do, and it’s an unpleasant one. They mean more than you let on, and your brain is clouded thick with the worry of sleeping in a cold bed for the rest of your life. 

There’s a moment of silence that Bradley lets follow your words, then he promises, “I’ll be there tonight. And every night after that.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Burger?”

He laughs, leaning in his seat when you turn, “Burger.”

He holds the food up to your mouth, letting you take a bite that smears sauce over your mouth. He takes a napkin, cleaning up after you and dabbing all of the mess away. You’re absolutely certain that if you weren’t on the road, he would have kissed it off. You make a mental note to eat just as messily when you get home, for experimental purposes.

“Can I have a bite?” He asks tentatively, and you turn at a red light to smile and nod.

“‘Course, Brad. I meant it, if you want it you can have the whole thing.”

“I don’t want you to go hungry,” He hums, taking a chunk to the left of your bite mark, “Thanks, babe. Fuck, that's good.”

“Did they finish your cookies?” You exit the freeway, muscle memory guiding you home.

Bradley speaks through a mouthful of burger, unpleasant to hear but somehow endearingly domestic, like he’s not worried about looking handsome for you. “Yeah. I got one more, but they mowed through the rest.”

“Those bitches,” You hiss, and he laughs, “Okay, we’ll bake tomorrow. But I’m keeping the vanilla away from you.”

He scoffs, “Always with the vanilla. I drank it one time!”

“One time is enough for a lifetime ban!” You insist, turning onto your street, “Okay, you shower and I’ll eat, then we can get into bed.”

“Sounds good,” He drawls, stuffing your food back into its bag and swapping it to you for the keys, “I’ll be quick in the shower.”

“No rush,” You croon, holding the hand that he offers you as you take on the front walkway together, “Don’t hurt yourself because you’re too eager to get into bed. It’ll be there even if you take your time.”

You’re bound for the kitchen and Bradley the bedroom, but you remember you have to keep the lights off so that he doesn’t see your decorations. You send him off with a kiss at the hallway, intent on watching him leave before setting up at the table.

“Goodbye,” You hum, standing with your lips puckered in the doorway of the hall, “If you need help, just yell for me.”

“Will do,” He nods, puckering his own lips and pressing them to yours with a cartoonish smack! You watch his ginger walk towards the bedroom, his hips off balance as his ribs ache in his chest.

Once you’re in the clear you flick the kitchen light on, choosing to stand at the counter instead of dirty the table. You busy yourself with your phone, tapping on an impatient text from Carole: ‘Have you told him yet?’

Not yet. You write back, munching on a french fry, Not in the car. He didn’t ask, either.

- Don’t lose your nerve, you can almost hear the critical tone of her voice just by reading her message, The longer you lie, the more he’ll worry about you.

I know. I’ll tell him.

- ❤️

“Babe?” You hear Bradley call over the stream of the shower, “Babe!”

You abandon the last few fries in the container, stuffing your phone into your pocket to rush to his aide. Horror flashes through your mind, visions of Bradley bleeding down the drain or hunched over in pain.

All you see when you burst into the bathroom is him looking like a puppy in the rain, a pitiful pout on his face as water runs down his face and through his mustache.

“I can’t wash my hair,” He laments, “It hurts.”

You can’t help but coo, “Oh, baby. Lemme help you.”

“Thanks,” He mumbles, “I already have the shampoo.”

True to his word, there’s shampoo smeared over his hands. Apparently he’d tried his best, but couldn’t move well enough with his broken ribs. You try not to laugh at his misfortune, especially because he’s in pain, but he’s just too cute to ignore. You try to muscle down the thought that this might be the last time you ever shower with Bradley, even if you’re not really in the water with him. You wet your hands, then wipe the shampoo off of his palms, reaching for his scalp.

“I’m sorry I’m making you stand in front of me naked and we’re not having sex,” Bradley huffs, “Believe me, if I thought I could, I’d be jumping you right about now.”

“It’s okay,” You chuckle, muffling the sound into Bradley’s forehead that you kiss chastely, “We should hold off on sex, at least until your ribs are healed.

Or until you know the truth.

“They don’t hurt too bad now,” Bradley muses, “But when I raised my arms to shampoo, it was really bad.”

“I’ll reach for things for you,” You promise, scrubbing shampoo into his scalp. It knocks loose leftover ash from his accident, and it flows down the drain in a swirl of gray bubbles.

“Oh, fuck,” For not having sex, Bradley’s making some awfully pornographic sounds, “That feels good.”

“I’ll bet,” you hum, “Can’t imagine having ash in my hair for that long.”

“It’s not pleasant. Oh god, babe,” He groans, “Hurry up and rinse it out, I’m gonna fall asleep standing up.”

“Okay! Okay,” You laugh, scrubbing in one last circle at the nape of his neck then reaching for the showerhead, “Have you washed your body already?”

“Yeah,” He murmurs, letting the water flow through his hair and rinse the shampoo out, “Oh my god, this is what heaven feels like.”

“Come on,” You smile, reaching for a towel, “Do you need help drying off?”

“You just wanna feel up my thighs,” Bradley accuses, and you laugh good-naturedly.

“Nope. Ass.” You admit, “But if you can do it yourself, then go ahead.”

“No!” He catches you as you stuff the towel to his chest, pulling you back towards the shower, “Uh, I need help. I think you should wipe down my very toned chest and my tight butt.”

“Oh, really? That’s what you’re having trouble with?” You snicker, and Bradley nods proudly.

“Yep. Can’t get my hands over my shredded back either, such a shame.”

“Alright, you flirt,” You scoff, “Turn around.”

You start on his back, and of course, it’s very fit. It’s nothing you haven’t touched before, in fact, you’re surprised there’s no scars there from your fingernails, but this is more intimate, more romantic, more sweet. This is love, not lust. You scrub the towel over his skin, wiping the water droplets away and rubbing into his tight muscles. You take extra care to dry off the small of his back, smoothing the towel down over his ass, too. Despite his earlier cheekiness, he doesn’t make any comments while you’re working. You wrap the towel around his thighs, pressing a kiss to his hip as you bend down to dry his calves off. He stands still to let you get his ankles dry, and you tap his foot to turn him around.

Now he’s looking down at you as you towel off his calves again, getting any splotches of water you may have missed before. You dry out the soft tuft of hair at his groin and move to his chest before you can tempt yourself, not wanting your first sexual encounter after a life-threatening plane crash to be a blowjob up against the shower wall. Especially not before you tell him the truth.

Now that you’re on your feet you’re face-to-face, though yours is bent slightly to track any water droplets you might have missed on his shoulders. You towel off his underarms carefully, making sure not to aggravate his muscles that are already bleeding pain through his gut. You swipe the towel over his neck, and in doing so, you’ve set your hand just below his chin. It’s as natural as breathing to slide it up his jaw, and he’s already staring at you, breath shaky as you return his gaze.

He moves first, but you take his cue right away. He leans in to kiss you and you’re happy to press your mouth to his own, not caring that there’s a drop of water leftover between his fingers that transfers to your skin when he cups your face.

“Baby,” He whimpers, desperate and longing, “I- I missed you.”

There’s tears beading at the corners of his eyes, and you manage a sad smile when you wipe them away, “Why, silly? I was only gone for a few hours.”

“I know. I just- I’m real shaken up,” He admits, “I- I don’t even remember the crash and that’s the scary part. I almost died and I’ve got no clue what happened. I feel lost, like- like I’m still stalling or something, just waiting to crash.”

“I’m so sorry,” You croon through your own tears, “Brad, that must be so scary, I- I can’t even imagine.”

“I just need you,” He breathes, clutching at your shoulders like they’ll recover his plane, “Just don’t leave, please.”

“Sweetheart,” You coo, equally endeared and saddened by his sudden panic, “We're not at the hospital anymore, there's no visiting hours. Why would I leave? We're home, we’re gonna get changed, and then we’re gonna go to sleep. You’re safe now, okay?”

“Okay,” He nods, voice a mere whisper, “Okay, let’s sleep.”

“Clothes first,” You remind him through a cheeky grin, and the expression scrunches your tear-stained cheeks, cracking the stiffened substance, “We’re sleeping.”

“Alright, alright,” He laughs as you poke at his bare chest, “Will you help me? I managed to bend over and slide my t-shirt off but I don’t think putting something on will be as easy.”

“Mhm. I was hoping,” You reach for the sets of matching pajamas, holding them up enticingly, “You’d match with me?”

He laughs, the sound thick and genuine in his bruised chest, “Of course. I won’t look as good as you, though.”

“Yeah, my mustache is better,” You sigh, scratching a nail over your upper lip that’s morphing into a grin. You whirl on him with his shirt, helping ease his arms into the fabric and stretching the neck hole over his head so that he doesn’t have to bend down. All in all, it works, even if the neckline is a little stretched. He doesn’t need help with his pants, but you feel compelled to do it anyways, sliding his boxers and then the soft material up his legs and tying it tight at the waistband.

“Thanks, honey.” He murmurs, bending at the waist and sitting on his side of the bed, “Fuck, that’s nice.”

“Lay down,” You push against his chest, helping him recline against his pillows, “I’ll be right back, B.”

You change quickly, too eager to crawl into bed beside Bradley to care that you’ve left one bite of burger and a few lone fries on the counter. Ants be damned, you’ll clean up tomorrow. When you emerge from the closet you wriggle happily beneath the covers next to Bradley, flicking the light by the doorway off so that all that’s left is your bedside lamp.

When you settle on your pillow he’s already looking at you, and the tip of his nose bumps your own. You melt into a girlish giggle, something that a teenager would produce after a particularly bad pickup line and a single red rose.

“Hi,” You gush, overjoyed to have him so close again. You kiss his nose in your fervent enthusiasm, and he smiles sleepily against his pillow.

“Hi,” He hums, reaching for your waist and pulling you close, “C’mere.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” You stiffen, but he molds your body to his anyways, “Brad, be careful.”

“I will be! I said it before, you can’t break me. Just let me hold you.”

You croon a sad sound as he wraps you in his arms, a sound of longing, of adoration, of grief. He clocks it as sweetness, though, and holds you close. Your face is buried in his chest and you feel his lips move against your scalp when he speaks.

“Y/N,” He starts, and your heart rate spikes at just your name, “About earlier-”

“Tomorrow.” You blurt, anguish rising in your chest, “Brad, can we- can we talk tomorrow? I’m not trying to hide from you,” You promise, but you’re nestled into his chest and muffling your voice, “I trust you with the way that I'm feeling, I just- I just want to sleep. I want to breathe for a minute. And we can talk tomorrow, is that okay?”

He takes a moment to deliberate, really, truly thinking about it. While he does so, your hands tighten in his shirt, desperately clinging to him. But eventually he nods, disjointedly so into the crown of your head, “Okay.” His hands tighten around your waist as he speaks, and you melt into his embrace, scooting impossibly closer. “Okay, honey, we’ll talk tomorrow. Let’s just sleep.”

Settling into his embrace has never been so easy. Since the moment you'd been in them for the first time only hours old in the hospital, you’d known his arms were made for holding you. They’ve been yours for as long as you can remember, even longer than that according to the photo album you’d skimmed through earlier. Bradley had been the third person to hold you, second only to your parents. Sure, he couldn’t remember it either, and Nick and Carole were probably doing most of the work keeping you balanced in his little lap, but the point is, he was made for holding you, and you were made for being held by him. Your face tucks so naturally under the curve of his chin and your lips press even easier to his throat, kissing at his voice that you love so much. It comes out to thank you for the adoration in a gentle hum, one that thrums against your lips. 

His hands revel in their access to the extent of your back, brushing and roving and stroking over every inch of the space he’s granted. It’s ticklish but you don’t dare squirm, letting his fingers send miniscule bolts of electricity through your skin.

“I love you,” He reminds you as he holds you close, the sleepiness fogging his brain clear as day in his voice, “I really, really do.”

“I love you too, Bradley.” You promise, kissing up his chin to his lips. The pecks you plant there are short, sweet, and chaste, but when you’re done laying them over his face you decide that you want to fall asleep facing him, not hidden away in his chest. Sure, it’s warm and safe there, but you can’t drift off to his sweet face if you can’t see it.

Your solution is to plop your head back onto your pillow, throwing a leg over his waist to keep yourself close. His eyes are droopy, and hold all of the tender sweetness of the puppies he so often resembles. He’s clearly exhausted, and your own eyes slip shut at the sight of his struggling to stay open.

“Night, Brad.” You yawn, settling against your pillow with the tip of your nose brushing his own, “Welcome home.”

“Night, baby. Love you,” He gushes, as if you hadn’t just exchanged the words seconds prior. But it feels good, it feels right, so you say it back.

“Love you, too.” You use the last of your energy to reciprocate, sleep taking hold of you in its comforting embrace. You slip away like sand into unconsciousness, all of your thoughts about love, and life, and Bradley, and none of the horrific possibility of his memories returning. Nothing’s going to ruin this moment for you, not now.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[orshii]

Did I cross the line?

➼Author: orshii

➼Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x female reader

➼Word count: 4 k

➼Summary: On Valentine's Day in Paris, a romantic trip with your boyfriend, takes a painful turn when unresolved feelings about his ex-girlfriend, who was once your best friend, resurface. Despite the love between you, the past threatens to tear you apart. Through heartfelt conversations, you confront your insecurities and reaffirm your commitment, realizing that to move forward, you must leave the past behind.

➼A/N: Well...here I am again with a Hongjoong drabble, and this little something was born because of Billie Eilish's new song. And it was completely inspired by it, so please please, listen to the song and pay attention to the lyrics so you will understand the story more. I just love it, it's such a beautiful song and I can't get it out of my mind...just as well Hongjoong haha...Anyway, I am not sure this is what I wanted, but this happened so enjoy! Byee...--also, sorry for any mistakes :'(... (divider)

Things fall apart, and time breaks your heart, but it also heals your soul, allowing you to feel like a normal human on this chaotic Earth. It's much harder when you're alone, but if you find someone who is always by your side and supports you unconditionally, you become unstoppable. Nothing can come your way when they are next to you and cheering for you on the side to chase your dreams. When you find the mate of your soul, you think nothing can stop you from now on.

Except... sometimes, despite everything, you grow farther apart because of a tiny reason, turning what was once promising into something that couldn’t bloom or burn with passion.

This is the reason why I am crying in a hotel room in Paris, the city of love on Valentine’s Day, with my heart broken into thousands of pieces. How ironic life can be. It's the day of love and I'm in the city of love, yet I never felt more disappointed in love ever. The broken pieces of my heart are cutting me from the inside, I want to scream from the pain, but I have never been quieter in my life, my voice got lost between the sharp pieces of my heart.

Our trip to the city of love started like a cliché straight from a romantic movie. We decided with my boyfriend, Hongjoong, that we were going to travel to Paris for a little break, as we both needed it, we were overwhelmed with work, and we barely saw each other. And Valentine's Day was a perfect excuse for both of us, to celebrate our love, that just started to bloom. Our relationship began six months ago, and it was a maze until we finally understood each other and found our way through the dark, complicated labyrinth of each other's hearts.

We wandered around the city with our hands interlaced, never letting go for even a minute. We felt locked together, forever. Throughout the day we visited a lot of museums and the typical sights of Paris, that being the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower. When the both of us were on top of the Eiffel Tower, the wind was so strong up there, that we could barely see the city down there. The air was chilly, as it was mid-winter. The clouds were gone, and the snow had already melted away, leaving behind only the cold.

I stared at Hongjoong, my hair in my face, giggling as he took pictures of me. The photos came out blurry but full of happiness. The sun that slowly approached its lowest spread an orange blanket over the city, lighting it with all shades of orange. I looked next to me, where Hongjoong was smiling. I saw him in slow-motion, as he was looking down at the orange city, the sun's beams lighting his beautifully shaped face, his jawline sharp, his cheekbones high, his eyes in the shape of a crescent moon as he was smiling. The wind blew very slightly on his brown hair alongside his elegant black clothes.

And his smile... that was why I fell in love with him so deeply that I couldn't escape. His smile was so perfect and wide, full of humanity, with sincerity that immediately caught me off-guard because I didn't believe in the fact, that perfect humans on this Earth existed. But as soon as I saw him, I knew it was just a lie, because with time every human being finds their perfect mate for their soul, no matter if someone sees them as imperfect. For you, they are always going to be perfect.

After coming down from the tower, we wanted to do one last thing: put a padlock on the famous bridge where people place padlocks to symbolize their love, as the saying goes, 'Lasts until forever'. And as it was Valentine's Day and we were in the city of love, to make it cheesier we bought a red padlock to put it on the bridge.

"So did you enjoy yourself today?" Hongjoong asked looking at me with his adoringly beautiful smile, as we were walking towards the bridge.

"This was the happiest day of my life Hongjoong." I looked at him with loving eyes, tears almost appearing in my eyes as I was very overwhelmed by the fact of how much I loved him. "Thank you."

"Come here, my little bun." He pulled me by my hand that was interlaced with his and hugged me strongly I felt like he might break my bones, as we were at the end of the bridge. He pecked the top of my head and slowly separated from me, leaving little distance between us, just to cup my face into his warm hand. Chills ran through my body as I felt his warm hand on my cold and red face, he immediately warmed me up with only one slight touch.

"I love to see you happy." He said his voice a little childish as he was saying it adorably. He tugged my hair behind my air. "I'm happy if you are too."

"You are too cheesy, what happened to you?" I looked at him suspiciously.

He chuckled at that. "You happened; I can't help it." He slowly leaned closer to me and slightly pecked my lips with his. Then he looked at me and smiled like I was the only human being on Earth.

"So, it's my fault?" I whispered onto his lips, that still hovered over mine.

"Yes, it is." His eyes were on my lips, as he whispered the words sweetly.

Then he closed the distance again between our lips and kissed me more passionately, putting his heart into the kiss, giving it to me so I could keep it safely in my imaginary safe made out of unbreakable metal, but sometimes that metal can get infected and it can crack and that hurts. As I kissed him back my lips slowly moving against his, the world was gone around us, and I did the same with my heart, giving it to him, so he could keep my heart wherever he wanted to. I hoped our hearts belonged to the other and no one else.

"Let's put that silly padlock on." He said as we separated from the kiss, caressing my cold cheeks.

I just nodded and took his hand to lead him through the bridge's middle.

"It's nice to be back in here." He said as we were looking around, observing the padlocks people already left there.

"Have you been here before?" I asked him surprised with a frown.

Suddenly his expression changed, as we stopped in the middle of the bridge, people around us walking and smiling, the sky had already gone dark, and only the street lights showed the way.

"Well…yes." He scratched the back of his head, averting my eyes.

"I didn't know, when?" He acted strange all of a sudden and I didn’t know why.

"Last year—with… Hana." He slowly looked up, to see my reaction.

I gulped and my heart started to race quickly as I heard her name. I really wanted to stay calm it wasn't the time to argue again as he knew it was an uncomfortable topic between us.

I nodded barely visible. "I see…" I looked down on my hands. "And did you like—were here?" My voice came out strange, it lost its power as I pointed at the padlocks.

"Y—yes," Hongjoong said noticing as my expression changed very quickly. He stepped closer to me to hold my hands. I just looked down at our hands and then at the padlocks. "But it was in the past and you know it, Y/N. I want to do this with you." He reached his hands towards my face, but before he could touch it, I stopped him.

"Well, I don't want to anymore." My voice came out serious, my face looked hurt and disappointed. I stepped back, putting distance between us.

"C'mon, Y/N. You can't be serious." He stepped closer to me and I stepped back again on that. He scoffed at that. "Why can't you put it all behind you? It was a long time ago."

"Because she's everywhere I go, Hongjoong, anything I do with you has to do something with her." Tears started to well up in my eyes.

"It's not, you just made it up here," He pointed at his temple."…because you can't get over it, Y/N." He seemed upset as his voice got more serious.

I scoffed at that in disbelief. "So, now you think I'm crazy?"

It is very unpredictable how everything can change from heaven to hell.

"No, you are not crazy, but you definitely can't let go of the past and be in the present…with me." Hongjoong said running his fingers through his brown short hair.

"What can I do, when all the time I see her face, everywhere." I lifted my arms helplessly. "In our daily life, in our home…in your eyes." One tear slowly escaped my left eye.

"When will you understand she is nothing to me now?" He stepped closer to me, disappointment showing on his face. "When will you understand you are my everything? That I love you and no one else." His voice got lower, weaker.

"I know that you love me, you don't need to remind me like it's an obligation." I looked at him already feeling so far away from him.

Hongjoong scoffed at that. "What are you talking about?"

"You always sound like you have to assure me you love me." I looked down at the ground, where our shadows melted into each other. I just wanted to hide from him. "I am sure you love me. But…it's just a feeling I can't shake."

"You have no idea what are you talking about. Can't you get that you are my fucking world Y/N?" I felt as he stared at me with deadly eyes, growing more furious.

Stressed, I ran my fingers through my hair, tears streaming down my face. "But you aren't mine," I barely said out loud, knowing he could hear me.

I couldn't see his expression as he stood there in silence for a moment.

"You think so?" he asked, his voice calmer.

I just nodded, unable to look up.

He chuckled and came closer to me, his breath close to my face. "So, let's make it fair, then. Shall we?" His voice was like a threat. Then he grabbed the padlock from my hand and threw it away into the water. I stared at him, my eyes wide in shock. "I wanted to make you happy, to do cheesy things like this. But if you can't understand, let's just stop."

"I never wanted to fight," I mumbled.

"But we always do, Y/N." He lifted his eyebrows as he looked at me, disappointed. "It wasn't like this before."

"What do you mean?" I asked him, confused.

"I mean, when we started, it was nice. We were happy, no arguing. But you kept looking into my past and everything changed." He looked into my eyes, tired of the arguments.

"Because she was always there in the back of my mind." I sniffled and wiped away a tear.

"She isn't now. But you can't see it." He shook his head slightly. 

"Honestly…I don't know if I can be with someone who can't let go of the past…" I snapped my head up at that, his face was nothing but serious without any emotions. My heart started to race more quickly than before.

"Hongjoong…" I stepped closer to him with regret on my face.

"No." Now he was the one who stepped back, and my heart started to crack. "I am tired of this, you have to let go of our past and be present completely, not only with half of your heart." He said those words like it was venom and it flew right into my lungs poisoning it so I couldn't breathe anymore.

"We will talk when you finally manage to do that." He put his hands into his pockets and just passed by me like we suddenly became two strangers, leaving me there on the bridge where we could've locked our love forever, he left me with a heart suddenly broken into millions of pieces.

Did I cross the line?

The thing is Hana was Hongjoong's ex-girlfriend and my best friend.

My best friend and Hongjoong got together three years ago and broke up last summer. And it wasn't particularly because of me, well I played a little part in that as well, but they just always argued about little annoying things and I was the one who reconciled them. I'm not sure when it happened, but the more I was hanging out with my best friend and her boyfriend the more I felt something wasn't right. I started to feel something towards Hongjoong and I knew it wasn’t right so I quickly buried it deep down into my soul, so no one would know it.

I watched them through these years when they were arguing and when they hated each other, but they always made up at the end of the day and everyone was happy.

Not until one day, Hongjoong found out Hana cheated on him. That day was a disaster because the more time I spent with Hongjoong, the closer I grew to him. I considered him a friend and liked him. I could talk about things with him, that I didn’t even tell my best friend. It was hard to take sides, to be honest, it was cruel of my best friend but at the same time she was my best friend and I needed to be by her side. She was crying on my shoulder even though she fucked all of this up. Slowly, Hongjoong walked out of our lives, and it didn't feel right for some reason. Not seeing him every day, not knowing what he was doing, made my heart ache for some reason and I was so confused.

Not until July.

We accidentally ended up at the same event connected to our work and started talking. We talked, but like we just met, like we didn't know each other before like Hana didn't even exist. I felt guilty of course but sometimes people have to be selfish, for their own sake. We had a deep connection with Hongjoong and I didn't want to let it go. I just couldn't.

From then on, we grew closer to each other, and got to know each other. And one night, Hana saw us, of course, I didn't tell her about Hongjoong, that we were talking. And of course, the universe loved us and Hana saw us exactly that summer night when Hongjoong kissed me for the first time. When he kissed me, I felt like I was finally complete, like I found the missing piece of my lost soul. But when I saw Hana's face, my soul immediately burnt into specks of dust.

Until then, all I could see was her face when he saw us, the hatred in her eyes, that I could understand. I haven't see her since then, but she lives in my head rent-free. I hated myself because this was the cruelest thing a best friend could do. But I stayed selfish and chose Hongjoong because he made me happy and made me feel alive.

And now I fucked up everything because I can't get through our past. What happened is happened, but when he touches me all I can think of is how she felt, I always compare myself to her.

As I was standing on the bridge and trying to somehow organize my thoughts, I just started to walk in the city that was full of couples and happy people. The city was alive, restaurants were open, and people were celebrating, and laughing together. Yet, I was there walking past them with my eyes crying out, slowly losing myself in the dark. When I passed by a lucky charm seller, the old lady beckoned me to go there. I frowned as I slowly approached her.

"My daughter, you look sad, did somebody break your heart?" She asked me putting his hands on my shoulders.

I nodded tears appearing in my eyes again. "But… it was my fault…so I deserve it." My voice came out weak.

"No one deserves a broken heart, sweet girl." She slowly wiped off my tears. "These lucky charms will tell you what to do, I am sure." She pointed at the little papers with green trefoils on them.

I just shrugged, I didn't believe in these things, but at least I could make someone happy by buying one. I chose one randomly and paid for it, thanking the lady.

"And don’t forget, sometimes before loving someone else, we have to learn how to love and how to receive it." She smiled at me and let me keep going.

I put the lucky charm in my pocket, not even bothering to read it, and walked forward without any destination. All I could think about was Hongjoong and how much I fucked up. It was a perfect day…why did I have to fuck it up? As I walked next to the river my palm was itching in my pocket so I stopped to read the paper. I slowly opened the decorated paper.

"I fell in love with you because you loved me when I couldn't love myself.

 And then you realize it was all real."

I read the lines with my heart slowly warming up and pumping quicker. I never believed in things like these, but these lines hit me hard in the chest just so I could realize how stupid I was, how stupid I was to think Hongjoong didn't love me. I mentally face-palmed myself and tried to stop myself from jumping straight into the cold river and turned around just to run back to our hotel, hoping Hongjoong was going to be there.

Hongjoong wasn't there and he will never come back. He will never come back, because I made myself believe he had anything to do with Hana and that he always compared me to her. But the truth is I compared myself to her and it made my brain a fool, so I believed every cruel thing it whispered to me.

I collapsed on the bed, hugged myself and here I was, crying my soul out with a broken heart, on Valentine's Day, in the city of love.

Hours or just minutes passed by, and I lost track of time when I heard the door closing. I opened my eyes quickly; I was facing the door to our room laying on my right side. Hongjoong slowly stepped inside and took off his winter coat his eyes on me the whole time. I couldn't tell what was he thinking.

I sat up as he approached me and sat on the bed, just to cup my cried-out face into his, now cold, hands.

He leaned his forehead against mine as he whispered. "Oh, my little bun. You make my heart break, seeing you like this."

Probably I looked like hell, my eyes red, my cheeks puffy, my make-up smashed from crying. 

I slowly held his wrists that cupped my face. "Hongjoong I—" Tears found their way out again; I didn't understand how I hadn't dried out by now. I started to sob.

"I'm sorry, my love, I shouldn't have talked to you like that." He hugged me, his fingers running through my hair, trying to calm me down.

I slowly lifted my head from his chest. "No, you were right, Hongjoong." Words could finally leave my mouth. "I was living in the past, that hurt me, but at the same time healed me…you healed me. I was so broken, but you managed to glue together the pieces of me. But this Hana thing just hunted me and I couldn't run away it’s like she cursed me just so I could feel his revenge." I looked down at my hands sniffing.

Then I looked into his eyes and the mate of my soul looked at me like I was the most vulnerable creature on Earth. And that was the moment I got reassured about everything.

"I'm so sorry for making you feel like it was all your fault when it was just my fucked-up mind. You are my everything Hongjoong, and I couldn't spend even a minute without you in my life. Please, don't leave me…" My tears flew down my cheeks endlessly.

He sighed and slowly reached for my hands, holding them like a treasure. "You are a fool if you think it is an obligation for me to say I love you. I say it because I mean it with all my heart, and to let you know that Hana is in the past you know I never really loved her. Not like I love you. You are my partner in life, my future and I never want to let you go." He wiped my tears away as his eyes watered and a little teardrop escaped his eye. I immediately wiped it away, not wanting to see him cry because of me. Ever.

"I love you so-so much!" I whispered weakly as I cupped his face.

"I love you endlessly, bun." He smiled at me adoringly, his smile that cured everything inside me and his lips on mine that slowly put the broken pieces of my heart into its place, my heart being whole again, in one piece, just so I could give it to him, into his hands to do whatever he wanted to it, because I just belonged to him and he belonged to me.

He kissed me slowly, like never before, his soft lips moving along mine leaving a sweet taste behind. I slowly crawled into his lap, straddling his thighs. His hands found their place on my waist like they belonged there and squeezed it like he never wanted to let me go. Our kiss got more hotter as I parted my lips letting his tongue inside, discovering every hidden place of my mouth, like he wanted to taste every inch of me. My hands crawled into his hair squeezing it as a moan left his mouth. His hands slowly got their way under my clothes, running his fingers up and down my back, like he couldn't get enough of me.

"You are so beautiful, Y/N." He whispered onto my lips between hot kisses. He looked at me like he couldn't believe his eyes. "You are my beautiful girl." His lips traced over mine as he firmly bit my lower lip.

I chuckled at that, as he quickly flipped us over and he hovered above me, supporting himself with his hands on both sides of my head and he just looked at me. I got impatient and quickly lifted my head so I could kiss him, but he pushed me back to the bed and kissed me harshly, my body felt hot, and I felt like I could burn alive.

Everywhere he touched me burned my skin down to my bones. But I didn’t care because I knew he was the love of my life, that one person who was always beside me and supported me no matter what. The past needs to be locked in the past and the present needs to be lived just so I can build a strong future alongside the emotions I feel, alongside Hongjoong, now, on Valentine's Day and in the city of love, Paris.

[pretending-ican-write]

Cowboy Up - Pt.4

A/n: I think there will be another part after this before the show starts and they will be getting together! I'm currently going through episode by episode and pulling out all the scenes I want to be a part of this. No promises that this won't get abandoned or take forever to write but I do have a mental endgame for it in s5!

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!reader

WC: 871

Previous part - Next part

---

The peace of a still sleeping bunkhouse was disturbed by Rip rushing in and the loud bang of the door against the wall.  

“Lloyd, have you seen y/n?  She didn’t answer the door and the trailer’s locked,” he asked hurriedly scanning the bunkhouse, “Ryan why the fuck are you on the couch?”

Rip looked at the hand under the blankets and connected dots as Lloyd stirred from his own bunk to ask what was going on.  The foreman stormed into the other room to find exactly what he expected, y/n just waking up in Ryan’s bunk.  She rolled over and looked over up at him confused.

Y/n pulled herself up in the bed, “why are you shouting at 4 in the fuckin’ morning Rip?”

In lieu of an answer, he turned back around to where Ryan was waking up and hauled him to his feet to shove against the wall.  Suddenly everyone in the bunkhouse was awake and aware of what was going on.  They all surrounded the pair but nobody was about to get in the middle of whatever was going on, except y/n who was being kept from getting in between them by Jake.

“What the fuck is she doing in your bunk,” he growled.

Y/n shook Jake off her, “the hell Rip!  There’s no heat in the trailer and I was freezing my ass off in the barn so he insisted I come in here.  Stop being such an overprotective asshole!”

“If you even think about laying a finger on her in any capacity I’ll have them,” Rip threatened before releasing him and turned to the rest of them, “that goes for every one of you fuckers.  She’s off limits.”

He didn’t wait for an answer and headed out of the bunkhouse leaving the crew speechless.  Y/n turned to Ryan and checked that he was okay before storming after the foreman.

“What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing Rip!” She yelled at him, “you have no right to do that.”

Rip turned to glare at her, “he’s taking advantage of you.”

“Oh give me a break.  He was being a gentlemen which is more than can be said for most people in there.  I’m not a little girl that needs your protection anymore.  I can make my own decisions and I’m big enough to own my mistakes and Ryan certainly wouldn’t be one.  But I don’t think you need to worry, I’m hardly his first pick,” she finished bitterly.

Y/n went back to the bunkhouse in search of coffee, leaving Rip to wonder what on earth she had meant.

-/-/-

A few years later (like 6 months before the show starts)

After a long day of working the cattle for the spring gather, everyone from the valley was settled around the corral enjoying Gator’s cooking and each other’s company.  Y/n was sat to the side of the crowd having finished her food, just taking in the atmosphere of her favourite day of the year.  Gentle country music filled the air from a speaker Jamie had set up by the grill and some of the hands were showing kids how to rope on the dummy steer.  A smile graced her face as she watched Ryan and one of the newer hands, Colby who had become fast friends with him, helping a young girl swing the lasso above her head.

John watched his daughter from his seat next to Lee and how at peace she seemed with her life back on the ranch.  He picked up his beer and went to join her on the straw bale she’d claimed.  Y/n smiled at her father sat next to her before turning her attention back to the scene in front of her.  They sat in a comfortable silence for a little while, a significant improvement on how they’d been when she returned years ago.

“I think it’s time that we have our annual conversation,” John started, “even if nothing has changed.”

She took her eyes off the wranglers to look at her dad, “everything and nothing has changed dad.  I belong here again.  I finally feel like I’m part of it again.  But Kayce still isn’t here and I don’t see that ever changing.  I love you but you’re a stubborn man and lord knows my brother is too.”

“You set the terms but being back under the roof is where you belong,” he pushed.

Y/n allowed the silence to envelop them again as she thought through what was being put in front of her.  The sun was just beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the valley.  The wranglers had left the kids to the roping in favour of beers by the fence and Ryan winked when they made eye contact.  

“I’ll come back,” she relented, “but you don’t get a say over what I do and when I’m there.  I’m still gonna spend time at the bunkhouse because at the end of the day I’m a wrangler and those are my friends.  It took long enough for them to see me as more than just your daughter and I don’t want them to see me differently again.”

John smiled at her, “I’m just happy you’ll be truly home.”

[yurislotusgarden]

Hiii lotuss!!<3 i love ur works they are so cute it makes my empty heart fill up w joy 💔💔

Can i request prompt 6 w chu, dazai and sigma w fem reader? If thats okay ofc!<3

Btw remember to take breaks and eat, drink and sleep well! :D

-💞 anon

ʚїɞ Separately! Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya and Sigma x Gn!Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ The event

ʚїɞ word count: 1k

ʚїɞ Tw’s: None! Just pure fluff, pet names are used, reader’s gender is not specified in any way

ʚїɞ Hi 💞 anon! Thank you for the words, nice to know someone enjoys my works like that <3

Sun rays fell into the warm room, a comfortable silence and atmosphere, a feeling it would be a good day the moment you woke up.

You would call it a perfect Saturday for a day out, and getting up early to start to start your day while the sun has been up for not too long, and you would do so if it wasn't for a specific brown-haired koala clinging to your waist from behind. Really, was it too much to wish for him to be asleep when you wake up? Getting out of his grip is certainly easier when he's asleep than when he's fully conscious.

"Where do you think you're going, Bella?" But truth be told, his morning voice may make up for the inconvenience if you were to not lie to yourself. "It's too early!~" 

And here comes the quiet whining from the other adult.

"We both have work, Samu. We need to be at the agency in less than an hour so-"

"So it's plenty of time to stay in bed and cuddle with me!"

"I would rather be on time so that Kunikida doesn’t scold us for being late."

"He will scold us for something anyway. What's the difference?"

“I-”

You didn't have an answer to that one. To be fair, that's not exactly a lie, that Man can find any reason to scold a person.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“...”

“Who am I asking? Of course, you don't have an answer when all I'm saying is the truth!~”

You love seeing Dazai happy, don't get it wrong, but this was one of the times when you just wanted to punch that grin off his face-

“Honey.”

“Hmm?” He really thought he won if his face was anything to go by.

“*I love you but we need to get up*”

A displeased groan came from the man and you had thought you won when-

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean no, you wanna hear it in French? ✨Non✨”

You're so done with this man, and you still had to deal with Kunikida’s scolding later.

4 hours.

4 hours is the amount of extra time spent in bed by you, wanting to just stay in bed with your boyfriend as he had a whole day off for once. While it was lovely to have more time with Chuuya than usual, it was already 2 p.m. by that point, way past the time when you should’ve gotten up.

“Chu?”

The question was asked in a quiet voice, in case he fell asleep again since the last time the both of you uttered a word.

A hum was a response enough for you to know he’s at least conscious enough to have some sort of a conversation with him. Gently running your nails through his hair, you quietly asked “Don’t you think it’s time to get up?”

A quiet groan came from the man. 

“Nuh-uh”

“Honey.”

“Nooo…” His voice showed just how close to sleeping he was before you spoke up.

“We need to get up-”

“I refuse the offer, now go back to sleep.” But now he seems fully awake? Motherfucker.

“It wasn’t an offer- and it’s 2 p.m.”

Is it even worth trying to argue?

“Do I look like I care about the hour, love?”

“Chuuya!”

“Not changing my mind.”

No, absolutely not.

“I will change your damn mind when I-”

Soft lips were planted on yours for a few seconds to shut you up before pulling away. The ginger head raised his head to kiss you just to shut you up.

“Shush and don’t try to get up, we both know you won’t manage that if I don’t let you.”

But you will always try to argue anyway.

“Fuck you.”

“Gladly.”

He will never get bored of that blossom hue appearing on your cheeks. Never.

Sleeping in the middle of a million blankets may have not been the best idea.

Sigma has been overworking for the past 2 weeks as per usual and you decided that he needs a good rest, resulting in wrapping you both up in any blanket you found lying around. It was comfortable as hell, yeah, but the bi-colored-haired man had been asked to come down to the Casino for something and yet still didn't get up. Is it really your boyfriend or is it some imposter because you thought you would never see him ignoring anything related to his Casino.

You decided to speak as yet another message went unanswered. “Cotton?”

A sleepy murmur of “Yeah?” made it clear he was listening.

“You need to get up.”

“But I don’t wanna.”

A sigh came from you, and another buzz from his phone could be heard. You were pretty sure that by now around 60 different messages could be seen on the screen unanswered. Of course, that was the number of messages that came after he read the first one asking for him in the first place.

“Sigma.”

One word, and yet his head shot up from the pillow right away. You don’t use his name often, especially in that tone. “Did I do something?”

“Sigma.”

“What?” He was genuinely confused, was he that tired that he didn’t even realize what that message earlier really said?

“Cotton-” You were hoping to calm him down by not using his name anymore. “Listen, I love you, but we, especially you, need to get up.”

“Why?”

“Look at your phone.”

“Okay?”

Let’s just say that the moment his brain processed the 80 messages on his phone, he got out of bed with, what you would say was his record speed, literally speedrunned getting ready you had to help him with his hair and tie because this man would go out in bed hair and very badly tied tie and you managed to get him to take a snack with him since he didn’t eat anything yet.

Some of his workers found out it was you who got him out of bed and thanked you.

You did not answer Sigma’s question when he asked where you got all the sweets from later that night.

Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated

[pedroshotwifey]

To the Flame Chapter 4

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Word count: 2.3k

Chapter tags/warnings: angst, family arguments, mentions of sex, some fluff, shit getting real

Chapter summary: You wake up with Javi and realize you made a mistake...you woke up with Javi.

A/N: Hey babes!! Thank you for being so kind and patient with me! I promise I see each and every one of you who leave likes, comments, and reblogs on my fics, and I can't thank you enough for your support. It means the world to me! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

***

“Sweetheart, wake up.” 

You squint your closed eyes as you register a faint, but familiar, voice accompanied by a gentle hand rubbing slowly up and down your upper arm. You also recognise the feel of a body beneath yours, an equally familiar feeling.

Humming contentedly, you tuck yourself back onto Javi’s warm chest, feeling his arms tighten around you in return. A chaste kiss is pressed to the side of your head. The panic doesn’t even come until you register that it’s lighter outside than it should be. 

You prop yourself up as quickly as you can as a sense of dread consumes your body. It’s light outside. It’s morning. You slept in a field in the back of Javi’s truck when you told your parents that you would be home by 11:00pm the night before. They hadn’t even wanted you to go in the first place, which pissed you off because you’re a whole ass adult, but that didn’t mean you were going to purposely make them worry. 

Now you’re going to have to go home and get chewed out by your angry parents. At least they hadn’t been nosy enough to try to figure out where you were going, you’d be in some deep shit then. A pang of guilt joins the dread as you think about how much they would both disapprove of you hanging out with Javi, a man who was probably twice your age. You still haven’t asked him exactly how old he is, but you have your guesses. 

You whip around to see the man in question looking at you with a perplexed expression, obviously confused by your sudden energy. You don’t even have the mind to apologize as you begin collecting the things spread around in the bed of the truck to put yourself together. You push the sleeves of your dress up all the way and tug on your shoes. 

“I need to get home,” you tell him frantically, already hopping off of the truck and into the tall, dewy grass. You turn around to face him and see that he hasn’t moved to follow you. 

“Javi, please, I wasn’t supposed to stay out last night,” you try to keep from whining, but you need to get the point across. He furrows his brows but starts to sit up. 

“Well I wish you would have told me, I wouldn’t have let you fall asleep, sweetheart,” Javi says as he jumps out behind you, dragging the blanket out with him. 

You hum a little in affirmation, though you’re already distracted with opening the door to the cab and hopping in. You feel bad to have sprung this on him after he took the time to plan such a nice date out and hold you through the night, but you feel worse that your parents are probably worried sick right now. You’ll be a little surprised if they haven’t called the cops yet. 

Javi gets into the truck a second after you do, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he starts it up. He looks at you and you share a heavy stare. It makes you want to beam at him. The fact that he’s in the truck and willing to take you home, no questions asked and no hard feelings. 

The poor guy isn’t even fully awake yet, and he’s already having to deal with your shit. He doesn’t seem to mind at all, and the smirk he flashes your way says as much. It might be the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen, to be honest. You never though bed head could look so good on a person before. 

 Despite your anxiety right now, it makes butterflies stir in your stomach. Your cheeks start to pink after a moment as you recall last night. You had sex with Javi. As if the soreness of your cunt wasn’t enough of a reminder. And you’re his. You’re his girl. He’s yours.

“Sorry I didn’t say anything, I really didn’t think I was going to fall asleep,” you blurt, trying to find a different headspace so you don’t jump his bones and make yourself even more late. 

“It’s okay, honey. I should have asked if you needed to be home at a certain time.” 

You both smile lightly at each other before Javi puts the truck into first gear and begins to turn around. He rolls the windows down just enough to let a nice breeze in, and puts the radio on low as you make your way back down the path you took last night. 

You sit in a comfortable silence as you gaze out the window. The sun is up just enough to cast everything in a warm golden glow and reflect off of the morning dew still lingering from the night before. Birds are starting to chirp and there aren’t many people on the road. It’s a peaceful morning, and you can’t help but lean back and take a big sigh to appreciate it despite the ball of unease in your stomach. 

Javi glances your way as you rest your head back and let your eyes drop closedd, and extends his hand to rest reassuringly on your thigh. You smile and take it with your own, giving a small squeeze. 

“It’ll be okay, sweetheart.”

You nod, trying to believe that yourself.

“I hope so,” you tell him truthfully. 

Now it’s his turn to nod as he focuses back on the empty road. A song by Waylon Jennings comes on and you reach to turn it up just a little bit. Before long, you can’t help it, and allow yourself to sing along. Javi casts you a glance, smiling widely at your shenanigans. You can’t help but to smile back. Might as well enjoy your last ten minutes of freedom before your parents chain you to the floor. 

A couple of songs later, you're pulling into your driveway just enough for you to get out without Javi’s truck being seen. You had told him that it’s probably safest that way. Unless he wants to come face to face with your father’s shotgun. The first thing you notice is that there’s no cops around, so at least your parents didn’t go that far. 

You refreshed as much as you could in the truck, trying to smooth your hair down and re-adjust  your dress so you at the very least didn’t look like you just got fucked within an inch of your life the night before. 

Javi puts the truck in park and leans your way for you to meet him and plant a short kiss on his lips. You hum against him, savoring the plushness of his lips. You already miss the feeling even though you haven’t left yet.

“Thank you again for everything, Javi,” you tell him as you separate, wishing you didn’t have to go.

“Anytime for you, sweetheart,” he responds smoothly and flashes you a wink. Yeah, the smug bastard winks at you. 

Clearing your throat and trying to keep from melting to a puddle on the floorboards, you open up the door and slide out until your feet hit the rocks beneath you. 

“Call me later?” Javi cranes his neck slightly to ask as you’re shutting it behind you. 

“Sir, yes, sir,” you stand and salute with the most serious expression you can muster. He smiles and rolls his eyes playfully, reaching over to tug the door shut when you step back. 

“See you soon, bebita,” he says through the open window. 

“See you, Javi.”

A stupid grin stays slapped on your face as he backs out and drives off, leaving you with a delightful buzzing sensation spreading throughout your body. God, you’re so fucked. You wish you could just stay with him and not have to worry about people getting pissed. Why can’t your parents just not be overbearing for once? 

You never liked your curfew as a teen, but you’d understood it. But You’re fully grown now, and even though you’re living with them again, you don’t think they should be allowed to implement one at all. 

You huff and turn to walk up to the house, trying not to come in looking as guilty as you should. You’re not dumb enough to hope that your parents are still asleep. Even though it’s the weekend, they were probably up hours ago to start work around the farm. 

The main door is open, as you expected. You take a deep breath and pull open the screen door, which creaks loud enough to let everyone in the house—and quite possibly the entire state of Texas—that you’re home. You wince as you step inside.

You turn towards the kitchen as the door smacks shut against the frame behind you, but you’re stopped dead in your tracks when you see the pile of stuff stacked in the living room doorway. Your stuff. Your heart drops as you take in your suitcases and a few boxes all shoved into a pile by the entryway. 

Your body starts to shake as you fight the urge to pinch yourself. This isn’t happening. 

“You have until the end of the day to be out of here,” comes a voice from behind you. 

You turn on your heel, coming face to face with your mother and father walking out of the kitchen through the tears in your eyes. Your mom is drying her hands with a dish towel, and your father has a folded newspaper in his hand. They look like they would any other morning, but the pure anger and disgust on both of their faces contradicts that. 

It feels like someone grabbed your heart from your chest and slammed it on the ground to let it shatter into a million pieces. Never in your life would you ever have thought your own parents would look at you with such hatred in their eyes. 

“I-what-what’s going on? I-?” you stamper, your throat dry as you try to figure out where to start your questions. A tear slips down your cheek but you can’t find it in you to be embarrassed. 

“Got a call last night,” your mom says in a tone so laden in disappointment that it feels like a shank being sent into the center of your chest.. 

“Some man called to let us know that our daughter—our daughter—was whoring herself out last night.” 

Her voice is bitter but you can still see the mist that coats her own eyes even so. 

The shock on your face as you take a step back isn’t enough to prove your innocence. You’re guilty, they know you’re guilty. But how do they know? Who the fuck called them? You didn’t see a single other person last night aside from the car behind you when he was picking you up, and even then it would have been too dark to see what was going on.

“N-no, I–please,” you continue to struggle as you take a step toward them now, not sure of what to do with yourself. Are you supposed to deny it? Play dumb? Beg on your knees for forgiveness? You’re in disbelief, and for what may be the first time in your life, you’re lost. 

Even with your ex, you knew what your next plan of action was going to be each time he messed up. Even with that last straw, when you caught him with your best friend, you knew what you had to do. Not now. It feels like you’ll never have a clear enough head to know what to do now. 

“I don’t want a fucking explanation, I want you to get the fuck out of my house before I call the cops,” your father speaks up. You know deep inside that there’s no turning back now. Once he starts yelling, things are going to get a lot worse than they have to be, and you know he’s not going to change his mind. 

You spot a movement from above you through your blurry vision, and see your sister at the top of the stairs. You can’t see the look on her face, but it might be better not to know. You can handle it from your parents, but never from your baby sister. 

She’s looked up to you after all these years, the only one who never stopped believing in you. And you can’t help but feel like you failed her. You’re shaking uncontrollably, trying not to break down, but you can’t help it as she backs away and a choked sob leaves your lips. 

You call after her, but your dad shuts that down. 

“Don’t you fucking talk to her.” The slight raise in his voice makes you flinch. You want to scream, you want to fight, you want to believe that this is all a nightmare. But you don’t, and you know it’s not. You did this, now you have to live with the consequences. 

“L-let me use the phone?” you manage to squeak out despite the fact that you feel like your skin is getting too tight for your body, and the world is closing in, and your intestines are tangling themselves into tight knots. There’s a crushing pressure encapsulating your brain, but you try to ignore it even as it gets worse. 

Your dad steps aside, letting you in and then trailing behind you until you pick up the phone with a lump in your throat. You dial up the number you’ve come to memorize, and wait for those usual three rings before you’re greeted by a familiar voice that almost crushes you. 

You hear your nickname, and a small part of you perks up at the sound, but it’s still not enough to overpower the nauseating feeling in the pit of your stomach. Sucking in a breath, you try not to start sobbing. That will have to wait until you’re safe in his arms. You know he’ll let you get it all out. 

You don’t have anywhere else to go, nobody else to call. Having to call him in front of your parents might be the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done, but you don’t even consider that fact though your shallow breaths and the light ringing in your ears. 

“Javi?” you croak, not waiting for him to confirm. You know it’s him. You can sense his presence even through the phone line. “Can you come pick me up?”

***

Thank you so much for reading! Please consider interacting if you enjoyed this fic! <3

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[lulublack90]

Prompt 17 - Slice of Life

@wolfstarmicrofic July 17, word count 997

Not gonna lie I struggled with this one. I wasn't 100% sure what slice of life actually meant so I did my best with it. Hope you enjoy. Lulu x

Mum came and got me out of bed when all I wanted to do was sleep. She insisted that it was such a nice day outside in the early summer sun that it was a shame that I was sleeping it away in bed. Last night had been a bad one, and I don’t think she really understands how much harder it’s getting each month. She wrapped me in one of her blankets and tucked me in on her garden swing. I admit she was probably right. The warm sun is helping with my sore body. The wind rocks the swing beneath me and lulls me back to a peaceful sleep. 

“Cariad, wake up,” I’m woken by my mum’s sweet lilting voice. She’s Welsh and has such a beautiful voice. Sadly, I take after my father, and I just can’t get my voice to lilt like she can. 

“Mmmm,” I groaned as I opened my eyes to the afternoon sun. It’s right in my eyes and immediately pain shoots to the back of my head. I close my eyes again and my mum slides the shade down on the swing. I try again and I can see. 

My father walks out of the house into the garden towards us. He’s being followed closely by an old man in teal robes. I watched him, fascinated. Because of my condition, Dad tends to keep me away from other wizards. So this is a rarity. 

Mum arranges three chairs in front of me, and they all sit down. 

“Thank you, Hope,” The old wizard says. He turns to me and starts speaking. “Hello, Remus, my name is Albus Dumbledore. I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” He says it as if I have no idea what the only wizarding school in Britain is called. But I listen because I want to know why he’s here. “I am well aware of your… Furry little problem,” I gasped, because as far as I knew, the only people that know are myself, my mum and my dad.

“Myself and a few select professors have arranged a way for you to attend the school whilst keeping the other students safe. Is that something you would be interested in?” His periwinkle eyes twinkled at me. I was not expecting anything like this. I didn’t have a chance to reply as my dad jumped in and spoke for me. 

“Of course, he’s going,” Dad holds a lot of guilt over what happened when I was five. I want to think he’s happy for me, but at the same time, I think he just wants to not have to deal with my transformations every month and being at Hogwarts would mean he’d only have to see me on holidays. Mum doesn’t seem as pleased about it though. 

“Will he be safe?” She’s worried. I knew she would be. She's a muggle, and she had no idea how big a deal this is. Maybe it would be good for me to get out of here and meet some people my own age.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that,” I finally tell Dumbledore, cutting him off while he was explaining to Mum about a shack with a secret passageway that no one can get into. 

The next few weeks drag. I’m eager to get started with school. Not in my wildest dreams did I think I’d ever be going to Hogwarts. Dad took me to Diagon Alley for the first time. I was blown away by all the magic. Dad uses magic, but not all that often. He uses it at work, apparently, but when Mum’s around he tends to do everything the muggle way. I’ve never got this. Why would you not use magic if you could? He took me to Flourish and Blotts. That might have been a mistake. He had to lure me out with the promise of a chocolate sundae from Florean Fortescue’s. I’m obsessed with books. I can lose myself in them and forget everything for a while. 

The final thing we bought was my wand. The nutty little man in the shop darted about yanking boxes off the shelves and passing me different wands. It took a few attempts but finally, he found the right one. I held my new wand, 10 1/4 inches, made from cypress with a unicorn hair core, for all of ten seconds before it was whipped from my hand and boxed up.

Thankfully, September has arrived, and we’re on our way to Kings Cross. Dad won’t apparate us, so Mum’s driving us in her car. It’s such a long way to go. Dad’s let me have a few of my new school books out for the journey. I’ve been reading them non-stop since we bought them, and I’ve only got two left to finish. 

It takes forever to find a parking space, but once we do, Dad runs in and grabs a trolley for my trunk. He loads it up for me, and we go into the station. 

“That’s where we’re going.” He pointed at the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. We walk towards it and just when I think we’re going to hit it, we pass through onto Platform 9 3/4. The Hogwarts Express is so much bigger than I thought it was going to be. We’re running late, so I don’t get to look at it for long. Dad hurries me onto the train, he helps me get my trunk into the storage rack, and we go back out to say goodbye. 

Mum won’t let me go. Dad has to pull her off me. He gives me a brief hug, and I’m off. The whistle blows and the train starts its journey north.

I’d just settled myself into my compartment, opening my book to keep reading, when the door slid open and the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen walked in.

“Hi, I'm Sirius Black. Can I sit here?” 

[newcaptainofsquad9]

Was This Vacation a Mistake?~Crazy Rich Asians (Astrid x black! fem! reader) ~Part 3

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 

Summary: After a traumatic night, you decide to stay with Astrid a few nights before you depart back to America. The situation left you angry and terrified, but Astrid proved to be an amazing hostess and a shoulder to cry on.

Word Count:

Warnings: Talk of racism and microaggressions. 

Author’s Note: Here’s part 3 guys! As always tell me how this is going so far and what you like about it. Idk if this is good or not but I really want to finish this series soon. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy.

The cup of tea Astrid offered grew cold in my hands as I sat on her fine couch in the living room, my head against Rachel’s shoulder. Astrid strolled back into the room, returning from putting her son Cassain back to bed. 

“Do you need anything else, Y/N?” Astrid said as she circled the couch and leaned against its back. “Blanket or something, you and Rachel look like you’re about done for the night.”

She wasn’t wrong, my eyes were heavy and Rachel was quiet for a while. Her phone dinged, awakening her from her semi sleepy state.

“Mmh, N-Nick! He’s outside!” she said, eyes and fingers sweeping her phone simultaneously. 

I sat up to the best of my abilities and try not to blink too much with grogginess and stress already pulsing around my temple. Grading papers should have been the move from the beginning; I wasn’t welcome here from the start, people like me weren’t welcome from the start.

“Y/N,” Nick’s caring voice broke me from my thoughts thankfully. He stood in the center of Astrid’s living room with Rachel at his arm, his eyes sparkling  in concern. “First of all, I’m so sorry this happened. Come here.”

Nick pulled me into his arms, nearly making me weep from the contact. His tall frame was soothing, yet I felt terrible because of all that’s happened; this happened because of me. If I stayed home, they wedding would have gone on, Rachel probably wouldn’t have to worry as much as she has to. I wouldn’t be the center in all this, so much pity. It isn’t pity, I should know that, it’s racism. Full blown racism in my face and I can’t fathom it for some reason. I don’t know why. Frustration pooled at me, tears and heat pricked my skin and eyelids.

“Y/N? Are you all right?” Nick asked. He pulled back to pat my elbows. 

Rachel sunk to my side, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Y/N?”

“I-I’m OK. I-I’m fine, I-I just need a night to, I don’t know, forget all of this,” you said as you leaned into Rachel. “I want to go home though, I’m sorry, guys.”

Nick shook his head. “No, no. In fact, I booked you a ticket home the day after tomorrow. First class of course, my friends stay in style. It’s the least I can do for how uncouth and down right disgusting my family and our associates were. I can even book you the best hotel around here.”

The thought was nice, a little too nice but I had to declined. 

“Sorry, Nick, I don’t think that’d be a great idea. Don’t want to seem out of place again.”

“Would a coastal house work? A short heli ride would get you there in--”

“Nick, I don’t think that’ll help,” Rachel said, cutting him off. “Traveling somewhere that isn’t home won’t help, yeah? Y/N?”

I nodded. Nick’s amazing, I love him but throwing money at everything isn’t going to bring me the comfort he thinks it will. It is endearing though. 

“She can stay here for tonight, tomorrow as well,” Astrid said, speaking up from her position behind the couch, hand smoothing out the plushness of it. “Anything she needs, I’ll be willing to provide, no issue.”

My heart skipped a beat at the offer; Rachel’s trying not to grin from ear to ear, brought me closer by the shoulder to look at me with those brown eyes. They’re still glossy, all authentic for me I know but know she’s using them to her advantage I swear. 

“Astrid sounds like great company, yeah?” she said. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “She’ll look out for you, I promise.”

Nick embraced Astrid prior to turning back to Rachel and I. “Thank you, you don’t know how much this means to me.”

Astrid smiled, it reached her beauty mark, highlighting her face perfectly. How was I going to survive a night in her home? Two nights even. Rachel beamed back as if she heard my mental question, squeezing my shoulders.

“You got this, call us when you feel a little better. OK?”  

I nodded. Rachel and Nick gave me quick hugs, doing the same with Astrid before they left, leaving me alone with her. Alone with Astrid Leong. Alone with my thoughts. Alone with all that’s happened.

“Y/N?” Astrid called.   

Her voice soft, as it was before yet lower, tender. I didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want her pity. I just want to go home already. 

“Y/N?” she called again. I glanced at her, she’s close now, right in front of me; the pity I harped on wasn’t there in her eyes though, hurt and worry, similar to how she seemed at Nick’s grandmother’s house.  

“C-Can I hug you?” she asked, opening her arms a bit. Her mouth twitched in a tiny smile while she hesitated with her movements. “Hugs always put me at ease, I-I want to put you at ease.”

The word ease broke me, almost. Tears pricked at my eyes, Astrid found them as she inched closer. She didn’t hug me though, still gauging my reaction. I nodded and met her in a warm embrace; it eased me as she said: her arms wound around me perfectly, fit me well and the tears slipped. A sob broke through too. Why the fuck am I crying? I was supposed to forget about all of that shit. 

“It’s all right, darling. Let it out, it’s OK,” Astrid whispered. She pulled back to wipe my tears. She nodded to her couch. “Want to sit?”

I nodded, pursed my lips to keep from tasting the salty tears. 

Astrid led me by the hand toward the couch, left some space between us when we got there, still holding onto me. Her touch proved pleasant, more so than it has been before--I was at ease. Her hand wrapped around my own wasn’t a huge deal either. I’m not even sure how long I can last but its working so far.  

“T-Thank you, i-it means a lot, letting me stay here,” I managed to say. Astrid’s thumb rubbed my knuckles a little prior to her pulling it away. 

“It’s nothing you have to thank me for,” she said. “Do you want to talk about it at all?”

This is a safe space I realize, however I’m not completely sure about opening up about these racially charged encounters. Sure, she’s non-white but like Rachel, sometimes it’s difficult bringing these matters up and talking through them. Sometimes I just need to deal with it on my own, then again, I do need to talk it out--somewhat. 

“I-I just expected to tag along with Rachel and for this to be a normal vacation,” I started. “But I got centered, I-I should have known. Anti-blackness is global. I should have thought about it more, researched. I’m a professor for God’s sake, I always tell my students this. Maybe this vacation was a mistake, maybe I should have just stayed home.”

Astrid’s hands flocked to mine again, her eyes glossy once more. “No matter how much research or preparedness you set yourself up for, no one deserves to be harassed or see something like that.”

I nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t think it’s the same. We both experience some fucked shit, I’m sure, you went to schools in England right? Most of those posh white folks, right?”

Astrid giggled at the description. “They were the living embodiment of posh. And you’re right. My experience is not the same but I can tell you about them. Take some of the weight off from today. Will that help?” 

“Yeah,” I said. 

Maybe I said it too quickly. It was her touches and how intense she looked to me: attentiveness deep in her brown eyes, paying all the mind to me, I had to glance to the spotless carpet below. 

“As you know, or maybe you don’t, I’m not sure how much Nick has shared about me, I attended Harvard during university,” Astrid explained. She ceased holding my hands, calming my heart for a bit. “At this time, I was eighteen, away from home with enough money to make my posh peers turn their heads. Unfortunately, my money wasn’t the only thing they noticed.”

Astrid grimaced and I didn’t want her to delve back into anything like that. It’s different yes, but it can still hurt people. Rachel’s told me plenty.

“Astrid, you don’t have to tell me, if it’s too much,” I said. My hand moved on instinct, holding her hand myself. “I-I get it.”

“Darling, it’s fine,” she said. “It’s not the most pleasant story to look back on but it happened. First semester, I was the only Asian girl in my class. There was an Asian boy, but he flocked with the white boys and a grade above me so there wasn’t too much we’d mutually have in common besides our ethnicity. I was Astrid the princess, according to Nick and I wished my white peers saw me as just some spoiled girl. Instead I was Astrid the girl who could grant you a happy ending; Astrid the girl who had to sit up front because her eyes were too slanted. There was worse things but, Y/N, you shouldn’t have to limit yourself because of what history has done. What these systems and institutions have done. Don’t let that stop you.”

She’s right. Astrid’s  absolutely right. The dam broke again at this obvious realization and I’m crying again, trembling and all. 

Astrid just pulled me toward her, embracing me yet again. I feel so stupid.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed against her shoulder. “I-I don’t mean to do this. I hate feeling like this.” 

“Don’t apologize, it’s OK.”

We stayed like that for a while: Astrid wrapping her arms around my back, my head against her chest, heartbeat nearly lulling me to sleep. Tiny footsteps neared however, along with a few creaks of the floor and staircase. 

“Mommy?” 

Astrid tore herself away to face the child standing in a purple satin sleep shirt and matching pants. His hair askew, face clearly scrunched up from sleep. Cassian. Astrid’s son. I pulled myself further from Astrid, wishing I could sink into the couch altogether. 

“And what are you doing up, sweetie?” Astrid said, grin plastered on her face, not feeling awkward about her son seeing his mother hug a woman he doesn’t know. “You should be in bed.”

Cassian rubbed his eyes with the back of a fist, attention on me while Astrid lifted him up to her lap, showing the boy off to me. 

“Who’s that?” he asked. 

Astrid’s eyes shined, love filling them to the brim as she stared at her son, then to me. I still wanted to disappear; Astrid’s got my heart flipping again and skin set to a scorch. Maybe Rachel had a point, definitely not telling her about all the details of tonight.  

“This is Y/N, Nick and mommy’s friend and our guest for a few nights,” she cooed, kissing Cassian on the forehead. “How about we go settle in bed and give her some space, hmm?”

I waved at the boy awkwardly. He seemed delicate in Astrid’s arms, fluttering his eyes, squishing and yawning as she stood engulfing the boy in tender love. 

“C-Can you read me a story too?” Cassain whined. 

“Of course we can, my love,” Astrid said. She was halfway up the stairs; I couldn’t stop looking at her. She turned back toward me, voice dropping a bit.“I’ll bring you some blankets to get comfortable, darling.”

Astrid’s gone before I can react, off to her motherly duties like the day we met. I’ve talked with her, seen her heart, been catered by her heart and I’m still skeptical about the entire thing. A mother, divorcee and a rich person. Rich rich. Loaded and her actions, her demeanor already triggers me, in a great yet intense way. Is she just being nice? Or is Rachel right? Should I talk to Nick about this? Should I not take this venture? Leave it alone before something drastic occurs again, her family is still old money, old traditions, old systems. Maybe I shouldn’t be looking at a potential straight woman like this? 

The thoughts continued to linger while I sunk deeper into the couch. 

Astrid returned after a while, a set of fancy comforters and covers hulking her arms. “I wish I would have prepared the guest room better but the couch is just as comfortable. Make yourself at home, stretch as much as you’d like, all right?” 

I nodded, laid across the couch and reached up for the covers. Astrid pouted and shook her head. 

“No, no. Let me, I am your hostess after all,” she said as she fluffed up the covers. “I need everyone under my roof safe, sound and more importantly, tucked in.”

My face and heart raced among-est each other each time Astrid placed a layer on me, tucked a cover against my arm and back, patted in place. She’s so close, there’s no way she’s just being nice. 

“Y/N? Are you all right? This didn’t make you uncomfortable, did it?”

I shook my head fervently. “No, this is so much more than I can ask for Thank you.” 

Astrid’s eyes softened. “Not a problem, darling. I hope your dreams are sweet and more pleasant than today.” 

Those words tingled me to my bones, warmed me more than the massive quilt bulking me and allowed sleep to overtake me. 

[raedroid]

Kiss Writing Challenge #4

“Could you please just stay the night please, just one night, just once with me...? that's all I ask of you, I know you've been busy with everything but can you just...stay...I'm tired of being alone...without you. I....need you...I miss you....I love you...please.”

For @a-ack / @spacedoutman writing challenges (I’m sorry this took me so long lol). This is part 2 of one of my previous writing prompts I did and decided to use it for this one lol

Note: I changed the interviewers name because I don’t think his name was Mark in Kiss Exposed, it’s the name of the actor, and even if it was, I don’t feel comfortable naming him that

——————————————————————————

Grace sat alone on the king sized bed, covered in velvet sheets and soft white pillows. As she sat in a warm lavender nightgown and a multicoloured blanket wrapped over her shoulders, keeping her from the cold, she was watching an interview on the small television set in her room, her small apartment she had struggled to keep. Her job barely paid her bills and barely managed to buy her groceries and clothes. But after she met him, she thought things would get better. Alan treated her like a queen and to be honest, deep down she did had a connection with him.

But as time went on, she realized how much she was being used.

Alan was an eccentric interviewer that was well liked by several higher ups in the journalism industry. Alan noticed her one evening at the local cafe that Grace was working in. She was beyond surprised when he wanted to talk to her. He would compliment her on her soft brown hair and bright gray-blue eyes, how sophisticated she looked and her melodic voice, describing her like a goddess. His personality was a bit strange, he would be very invasive from time to time and try to reach her deepest secrets, try to learn everything about her. As he moved up in the industry, Grace wasn’t sure what to do with the relationship,

Whatever it may be.

He was slowly becoming more confident and famous, which lead to a change in his demeanour. His invasion of her privacy became more intense, watching her when she was sleeping whenever he came over, taking photos of her and her belongings without her permission and knowing, and commented on her appearance in a vindictive way. Grace slowly started losing her confidence because of him but despite his rude comments and actions that brought down her self esteem, she still wanted to stay with him. Alan made it his goal to make Grace a star. She made the big mistake of telling him her ambitions, being a singer or an actress, and Alan tried to make her career work through his interviews.

Their relationship was concerning Grace even more. He was ready to become a manager and give up his career in order to make her a sensation but Alan’s tactics brought her down, wanting her to look a certain way, act a certain way, talk a certain way, almost everything was in his control. When he was trying to change her into his perfect image, he continued to be invasive while being a “good” man to her. He gave her flowers, called her every night and took her on dates. But it was fake. Behind the doors, Alan would break her down mentally and abandoned her every time she spoke out against him. Every time he ignored her and threatened her, she felt helpless and tried to hold on to survive. If he leaves, she’ll be nothing again

Just like he always told her

On that night, Grace was alone after telling Alan to stop monitoring her food again. He just left her alone in an unstable home and an unstable mind. The anxiety without being with him started to catch up to her as she watched him interview another up and coming actress, what he was trying to do with her. The way he complimented this woman the same way he did to her made her feel betrayed and hopeless, making her clutch her pillows tighter by the seconds. She turned off the tv in a state of stress and turned to the phone laying on the nightstand next to her and hurriedly called Alan, hoping the interview was over. Soon after many rings, he finally took the call

“Hello?”

“Hey Alan, it’s me.”

“Grace? What do you want? I’m busy.”

“Look I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. I know you’re trying to look out for me.” She lied through her fear as tears pooled up in her eyes

“Is that it?”

“No not really. When will you come back to California?”

“Don’t know. But when I get back, I expect you to come back with a better attitude. I did not appreciate you yelling at me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You say that but you always repeat those words. You always yell at me when all I want to do is make you succeed. Do you ever once thought about how I felt?”

“I’m sorry Alan. I mean it. I just-“

“Just tell me what you want. Unless you wanted to complain some more.”

“I just wanted to talk. I know we have been ignoring each other and you’re upset at me and busy but I just want to see you. I’m sorry I was a jerk. Please when you come home, can you please visit me? I’ve been alone for a while and I just…. miss you.” Grace wasn’t sure if she was genuine or not. She did hated the way he treated her but he has been with her for so long that she felt like she can’t go on without him. Her thoughts were interrupted by Alan releasing a chuckle

“You know I can’t help you with your feelings all the time. We have careers and you need to focus on yourself. I don’t have to be there for you everytime you need to talk to me.”

*Silence*

“Anyways Grace gotta go. Have a good night now. I’ll let you know if I’ll come over. Good night love.”

The dial tone filled the bedroom, sending waves of emotions through her head. Grace dropped the phone, letting the dial tone torment her further as the floodgates opened and tears poured from her face and her breathing became frantic and rapid. She moved her head into her pillow, muffling her screams of pure betrayal and intense loneliness.

You can still be with someone and still feel alone

——————————————————————————

Grace stood by the poolside in the middle of the night. It has been only a day since her heavenly evening with Paul and many thoughts were running through her head. She had finally met a man who was gentle, sweet, and loving, something she noticed Alan never acted upon. She was debating whether or not to cut ties with him and stay with Paul or be unsuccessful and lose her only hope of being special. Essentially, decide if she should be happy for once but be a nothing human, or be an important person and be miserable.

And deep down, she had this deep fear telling her that Paul doesn’t want her and only wanted her for a good time or because she was attractive. If it was true, then she’ll truly be alone. But despite the fear hidden inside, she realized she barely smiled during her time with Alan. In the brief time she spent with Paul, she actually felt joy, like she was finally seen. The way he caressed her and spoke to her made her heart melt. He whispered sweet words to her throughout the whole night and showed so much honesty and compassion towards her. Then finally, his words returned to her when he shouted at Alan

“Listen Alan. I don’t know whether or not you want to protect her but trust me, I won’t hurt her. She is an amazing woman, she’s smart, confident, kind, funny and talented, not to mention absolutely beautiful. I will be there for her every day and every way possible. I will keep her safe, healthy and happy. And if you don’t want her to be any of those, then don’t talk to her again.”

Those words changed her mind almost instantly. He wanted her to be a person, Alan just wants a specific version of her, one he could use over and over again. After thinking things over, she left the pool side to go and meet with Paul. But after making her way through the archways of the large manor, Alan took her arm roughly and pulled her to him, a stern and almost dangerous expression on his face combined with his aggressive grip made her nervous

“I know what you’re doing Grace. You shouldn’t talk to him anymore. He only wants you because you’re pretty. He wants to use you, that’s all everyone wants to do to you.” He warned

“Alan, I’m allowed to talk to people.” She remarked

“Yes but not him! He’s just a rockstar and all he sees in pretty ladies like you is how big your chest is and nothing else! If you actually think he is different around you, you are delusional! Why go for him when you have me here?!”

“Because last night was the first time in a long time that I’ve been genuinely happy?”

“I can make you happy you know! He’ll leave you alone and leave you hopeless and betrayed! I don’t do that to you! I give you everything you want and more and you’re gonna throw our whole relationship away just for some creep?!”

“At least that guy lets me eat whatever I want whenever I want! At least he lets me wear whatever I want! At least he lets me actually be an individual!”

“He’s just using you! He’s doing this to gain your trust and hurt you even more! You have to believe me!”

“What if I don’t!” She pulled her arm away from his grasp with such force, he looked at her in disbelief but still couldn’t seem to acknowledge where he went wrong

“God why are you being so difficult?!”

“Maybe it’s because I have always felt miserable! At first you were gonna help me out but now I see through you Alan! You just want to use me like all the other people who worked with you before! Every day you make me feel like I’m a helpless little doll and you would slap me around to be this perfect woman but that’s who I am! This isn’t even about Paul anymore! It’s about how much you’ve hurt me and make me hate myself more than I did before! So I would appreciate it if you leave me alone and not meddle with my relationship again!”

She shook with fear as he stared at her in intense shock, surprised she had the courage to finally tell him off. He grabbed both of her wrists and pulled her towards him and slapped her against the face with all of his might. As she struggles to get her balance back, he lets go of her wrists and lets her fall down, rubbing his face with his hand and when he pulled away, he looked suspiciously calm, causing her anxiety to spike

“I did everything to make you a star and this is how you treated me. I actually helped you through all of this because I had faith in you. But you had to go around and be disrespectful to me and all of my efforts to make you famous. You didn’t needed a stupid rockstar to make you special because guess what? You’re not. You never were but I thought if I worked on you, then maybe you can be. But I see through you now Grace. You’re just pathetic. If you want to go to that rockstar, you can but you’ll throw all of my hard work down the drain. I actually loved you, he never did.”

As Grace slowly rose from the ground, she stared at him and with every heavy emotion she had, she punched him square in the jaw making him tumble back. He lunged towards her and punched her back in the eye, making her wobble in pain. Rapid footsteps ran towards her and caught her when she was about to collapse. She looked up with her eye in pain to see Paul, his soft brown eyes meeting hers and he stared at Alan in complete disbelief.

“Alan. You’re fired.” He responded coldly but calmly. Alan’s eyes almost bulged out of his face

“What?! But she attacked me first! She should leave instead! Go on Grace! Tell him that you attacked me first!” He shouted. Grace didn’t even attempt to defend him and simply looked away, burying her head in Paul’s arms. As Paul brought her back to her feet, he continued to look at Alan upset

“Gather your belongings and get out.” He ordered, more angrily than before

“But who’ll take care of her? She needs me.”

“I’ll do it. Like I told you last night. Now get your things. Or I’ll get them for you.”

“But I’m an important part of the show! She’s just a random chick!”

“Get your shit!! That’s an order!!” Alan knew he lost the fight and slowly left the room, climbing up the steps and looked at Grace one last time. Grace never gave him a parting glance and simply looked at Paul who pulled her closer, stroking her head and letting her cry into his shoulder. A million bricks fell off her shoulders in that moment and she was grateful she did it with someone like him.

——————————————————————————

“And that’s why you two were together?” Paul asked after Grace caught him up on her relationship with him. She was back in his room and they laid on the king sized bed as he wrapped her in a soft blanket, kissing her head gently

“Yeah. I thought that if I left him, I would just be a nobody again. He would do this all the time with me and it made me feel like I’m… nothing” She admitted

“No one should make you feel like that. I promise he won’t go near you again. Like I said last night, I will always be there for you.” He murmured, giving her a comforting smile. But she simply looked away with tears in her eyes

“But it’s true right?”

“What is?”

“That I’m just some pretty lady you wanted a good time with? Because I am nothing special let’s get that straight. Theres nothing of value to me. I mean, I’m not a singer, or model or actress or anything like that. I’m just a random nobody that Alan wanted to change and now that he’s gone, I’m nothing again.”

“Grace, he made you feel that way. You are putting way too much pressure on yourself.” She bolted off the bed and threw the blanket down in a state of rage, betrayal and anxiety

“But it’s true! I was never good enough for anyone! Not for him and especially not for you! You only want me because of what Alan was trying to turn me into! And without him, I’m nothing! So if you want to leave me or hate me or berate me or anything, go for it! I deserve it!” She shouted, her breath was getting rapid and soon she clutched her dress as anxiety started to settle, realizing she can’t go back to the way things used to be.

“Grace?” He slowly got up and took her hands off her dress and held them in his own, giving them a small squeeze. “Please don’t ever say that about yourself ever again.” He said softly

“But it’s true. Without him I’m nothing.” Grace whimpered, her tears returning. Paul slowly pulled her in an embrace and sat back on the large bed and letting her come undone in his arms

“Grace. Listen to me. I brought you up here because I want to get to know you. Genuinely. I think you’re beautiful, smart, funny and sweet. Do you think I said all those things last night as a joke? Last night was the happiest I felt in a long time and I know, from what you’ve said, it was the same thing for you. That’s why I said I love you. You made me happy.”

Grace looked at him slowly as a look of surprise landed on her face. No one ever told her these things and to hear it from someone like him was a lot for her.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable. If you want, I’ll give you some alone time. I don’t want to make you upset.” He gently laid her on the bed and slowly got up. But as he started to turn, Grace shot up and grabbed his hand, preventing him from leaving.

“No please!” She shouted, surprising him. “I know this sounds stupid but I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Grace?”

“Could you please just stay the night please, just one night, just once with me...? that's all I ask of you, I know you've been busy with everything but can you just...stay...I'm tired of being alone...without you. I....need you...I miss you....I love you...please.”

Paul gave her a sympathetic smile and took the hand holding his and brushed a light but loving kiss against the knuckles

“Of course my love.” She smiled as he joined her on the bed, letting his hands slip into her brown hair and play with the long strands “And if you want, once this is over, I can take you back to my place. I know right now Alan might try to get to you but as long as I’m here, he won’t reach you. He won’t hurt you from now on. And if you agree, I can treat you to some dinner and maybe go on our first date or… I don’t know. Whatever you want to do is fine by me.” His smiled grew as she nodded, a little smile slowly returning to her face

“I’d love that very much Mr. Stanley.” She replied, gaining a smirk on his face

“Oh I love it when you say that.” He murmured lovingly, holding her and locking her lips in a long but passionate kiss. Grace moved in time with him, slowly grasping his hand in hers, brushing her thumb against his knuckles as his other hand moved from her hair and rested on her cheek. She used her other hand to feel his hairy chest, noticing his heartbeat quicken as they continued for what felt like an eternity with neither wanting to stop. Once they had to stop to catch a breath, Paul’s words slowly came to her and she stared at him confused

“Wait. This place isn’t actually your home?!” He blushed in embarrassment over the question and began to stutter his words. “You motherfucker! You lied to me!” She exclaimed in a joking manner, playfully smacking him in the shoulder, causing the two of them to erupt in laughter.

“What?! I have a video to film! My actual house is a state! Do you want me to show them that?” He asked rhetorically, making the two of them laugh once more. The more the two of them talked and embraced each other, flaws and all, the more her worries melted away

A soft beam of light from a car shines through the bedroom window and she got up to take a look, seeing Alan entering his red sports car with a defeated expression. At first she wanted to reach to him but glanced at Paul, who was fixing the blankets and sheets. He noticed and got up to cuddle with her.

“You think I made the right choice?” She asked and Paul nodded and kissed her on the lips

“As long as you’re happy, thats the main thing.” He murmured softly, his arms wrapping around her shoulders and waist. She watched her past leave her while embracing her future.

She’s no longer feeling alone with someone

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Tagging: @spacedoutman @doodleborg @criminallyoverrated @starry-eyed-never-satisfied @shandidellamorte @elrohare @peanutbutter-doodles

[wejustvibing]

What I’m not understanding is the “teamlh” ppl blaming the rest of teamlh for this fk ass statement. We moved on, we were watching the drinks company get dragged for filth and enjoying new Lewis content.

This bs statement only serves to tell me 4 things possibly:

1 - Lewis does not stand on business

2 - That team can’t handle criticism

3 - the socmed team for Lewis and Merc don’t understand his fanbase properly and fumble consistently

4 - they honestly think we’re stupid after most of us have been watching this sport for years and can honestly make basic calls on strategy (who tf is starting Singapore on softs in a car that’s not the outright fastest, that’s dumb af and the fact that Lewis and George said they were surprised when the true blanket came off tells us he didn’t agree to shit)

Anyway that is all the energy I have for this I need 2025 to come fast

i think some media page posted about it again and that triggered it but idk

to me it means they cannot accept criticism and lack integrity needed to accept the pattern of mistakes but find it easier to make him look like a fool instead (not for the first or the last time) and they dooo think we stupid 😭

[preet-01]

I mean 👀… T and John/Lewis because I love them and when you write them *chef kisses* 🫶🏼

T — Accidental Marriage

ahh thank you 🫶🏽😊 I hope you like this!

The bells of Maranello rang loudly as the country celebrated Ferrari bringing home a championship. Not the Drivers’ Championship, no Max had taken that despite everyone’s best efforts, but the Constructors’ Championship.

They’d won it in Vegas with the red cars of Charles and Lewis locking out the front row in every session. And with just a few tenths between them, they’d given Ferrari a photo finish for their first championship since 2008. But due to the triple header, celebrations for the championship couldn’t happen until after the season ended.

Charles was being paraded around the Ferrari headquarters like the golden boy he’d always been — a visible weight had been lifted from his shoulders and it had been like that since they’d crossed the finish line in Vegas. He’d won a championship with Ferrari, one of them at least. He had met one of the expectations that had been placed on him since he was just a teenager hoping to emulate his godfather.

Lewis had found a space for himself in a somewhat quiet corner of the room. Quiet was subjective as Lewis was surrounded by some of the Ferrari higher management as they plied him with wine and talks about how beneficial the partnership between him and Ferrari already was after just one year.

“Sorry, gentlemen, but I need to steal him away for a second,” John says joining the group. Since it was all said in Italian, Lewis only understood a few words. He could have understood more if he hadn’t been drinking, but that was neither here or there.

“What are we stealing?” Lewis asks, causing John to chuckle.

“Just you, tesoro,” John replies, now speaking in English for Lewis’ benefit. He was slightly tempted to keep speaking Italian just to see which words would stand out to Lewis and translate to English in his mind.

“Already did that last year,” Lewis retorts.

That’s the last thing he remembers from the championship celebration. John stealing him away and the ever present cheers all around them.

He doesn’t recall what happened afterwards, but when he wakes up the next morning, he does have a slight idea. Or at least he thinks he knows all that happened during the night.

He’s in a bed that he’d spent many nights in before. He’s naked. John is sleeping next to him and naked — Lewis had checked under the blanket to confirm that. There’s an uncapped bottle of lube on the nightstand with an opened condom wrapper.

He can put 2 and 2 together. Deciding that he’d done nothing outrageous the night before, Lewis moves closer to John and closes his eyes. A few more hours of sleep won’t hurt.

Turns out a few hours can hurt. And Lewis can’t put 2 and 2 together because the answer wasn’t 4, but a drunken wedding in Maranello officiated by Fred with Charles as the flower girl.

A joyous ceremony, he’s sure of it, if only he could remember anything other than John looking at him.

The only reason that they’d learned about the ceremony so quickly was because one of the engineers had posted a video of the wedding on Instagram at some point in the night. Had it not been for that video, Lewis is sure that they wouldn’t have found out until the certificate was found.

It hadn’t gained much traction until the morning when fans started to wake up and look for content from the Ferrari celebrations. That had gotten them calls from shareholders, sponsors, friends and family. Everyone they knew wanted to know if it had been planned or not, if it had been some drunken mistake while high from a championship win or not.

Lewis doubts anyone had expected a wedding to be a part of the championship party content, but the fans had taken it in stride and run away with their theories. Lewis certainly hadn’t expected to be married. “So what do we do?” he asks John. The older man has just gotten off the phone with concerned shareholders that their president was just marrying a driver all willy nilly.

“We could get an annulment,” John offers. A divorce would be too tumultuous with John’s net worth and assets. The shareholders would be even more concerned about a divorce.

“Or?”

“We could stay married,” John says. “While our wedding is not how I thought it would have been, it is something that I had seen in our future,” he continues.

As much as Lewis loved Fred and Charles, they did not exactly play a big part in what he’d imagined his potential wedding to be like. However, John was exactly who he’d seen standing opposite of him.

And as unexpected the actual wedding ceremony had been, Lewis didn’t want to make it null and void. “As have I,” Lewis agrees, “I wouldn’t mind staying married.”