#the last one is from the discovery collab

[calmbigdipper]

So many Kavehs — which one is your favorite?

[ceeaann]

— No more Running ✦

Paring- Popstar!Caitlyn x Rockstar!Reader Summary - When a PR scandal forces pop superstar Caitlyn Kiramman into a fake relationship with the industry's most unpredictable star, neither expects the lines between pretend and reality to blur. But with the world watching, what happens when fake love starts to feel real? Content - 14.6k words, a valentines special collab with @kkoga Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Angst → to → Fluff, Social Media Chaos, Celebrity!AU, Emotional Walls, Self-Discovery

The pop princess. The sweetheart of the industry. The untouchable, impeccable, perfect A-lister with an empire of adoring fans.

Caitlyn Kiramman had spent years building her name, curating her image until it gleamed like polished gold. Every performance was flawless, every red carpet appearance pristine. She was elegance and talent wrapped into one, the kind of star who made the world swoon.

And right now, the world was turning against her.

She barely had time to sit down before Elena, her manager, pressed play on a remote, and the giant flatscreen in front of her came to life.

“Caitlyn Kiramman’s Drunken Rant—Diva Behavior or Justified Callout?” “Former Employees Speak Out: ‘She’s Cold, Distant, Hard to Work With’" “Has the Pop Princess Fallen from Grace?”

Caitlyn’s jaw tightened. She already knew the headlines—she’d spent the last week watching them multiply like wildfire. She ran a hand down her face. “Just tell me what we’re doing about it.”

Elena didn’t miss a beat. “You’re getting a relationship.”

Caitlyn blinked. “…What?”

“A fake one. Something to soften your image. Make you look more fun, more human.” Caitlyn groaned. “Not this again—” “Caitlyn,” Elena cut in, serious now. “This is bigger than just you. Your label is worried. The PR is getting out of control. We need to change the narrative now.”

Caitlyn knew what that meant. It meant the story had reached higher-ups, and they were breathing down Elena’s neck.

Still, she wasn’t convinced. “And how is dating someone supposed to fix all that?” Elena clicked another button, and the screen changed. Caitlyn frowned as a face she recognized but had never met stared back at her.

Oh.

You.

You weren’t some random industry plant. You were a force. A genre-bending, award-winning artist with a reputation for being unpredictable. You weren’t reckless, but you were untamed, the kind of person who said what they wanted and made no apologies.

And now, apparently, you were supposed to be her girlfriend.

Caitlyn exhaled sharply. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Elena smirked. “You two are perfect opposites. The media’s going to eat it up.” Caitlyn crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. “And they agreed to this?” Elena didn’t hesitate. “Their team is already discussing logistics.”

Caitlyn wanted to argue. She wanted to say this was a terrible idea, that there had to be another way. But she knew the truth: her team had already made up their minds.

And, whether she liked it or not, she was going to be fake-dating you.

_

The wild card. The genre-bending sensation. The artist that no one could predict, yet everyone wanted a piece of.

You weren’t just a musician—you were an event. Every song you dropped trended worldwide. Every appearance, every unfiltered interview, every bold move sent shockwaves through the industry. You weren’t reckless, but you were untamed—the kind of artist who set stages on fire (literally) and made headlines whether you meant to or not.

And right now, you were about to be part of the most bizarre headline of your career.

You almost choked on your drink when Riley, your manager, dropped the news.

“Come again?” you coughed, setting your glass down. “Fake dating,” Riley repeated, as if that was something normal people did. “With Caitlyn Kiramman.” You stared at her, waiting for the punchline. “You’re joking.”

She didn’t blink.

“…You’re not joking.” Riley leaned forward. “Listen, before you say no—” “Oh, I’m saying no.” You raised a hand. “No way. Not happening.” “You haven’t even heard the full pitch yet.” “I don’t need to hear it! I don’t do PR relationships.” You waved a hand vaguely. “I make music. I break things. I set things on fire—”

“—which is exactly why this will work.”

You frowned. “…What?” Riley sighed and pulled out her tablet, swiping through images until she landed on one of Caitlyn. “You’re chaos. She’s order. You’re unpredictable. She’s untouchable. It’s perfect.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And why does she need me?”Riley clicked to another screen—one filled with articles about Caitlyn’s supposed coldness, her lack of relatability. “She needs a humanizing angle. You need to clean up your image.” You scoffed, leaning back. “I don’t need to clean up anything.” Riley gave you a look. “You set a stage on fire last year.”

“…It was symbolic.”

“It was a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

You exhaled through your nose, drumming your fingers on your knee. You weren’t opposed to chaos, but this? This was something else.

But.

Caitlyn Kiramman was huge. A worldwide pop phenomenon. If this worked, it wouldn’t just fix your media issues—it would explode your career.

Still, you hated the idea of being someone’s PR tool.

“…She actually agreed to this?” you asked, raising a brow. “She didn’t say no.” You snorted. “So we’re both being forced into this, huh?” Riley grinned. “Exactly.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair.

Well.

This was going to be interesting.

_

The meeting was set in neutral territory—a private lounge in one of the most expensive hotels in the city. Exclusive. Isolated. The kind of place where celebrities made deals and signed contracts away from the prying eyes of the public.

Caitlyn arrived first.

She sat on one side of the sleek marble table, legs crossed, fingers tapping an idle rhythm against the arm of her chair. She was used to high-stakes meetings, but this? This was a whole new level of ridiculous.

She checked her watch.

You were late.

Of course.

She let out a slow breath and reached for her phone, ignoring the quiet murmurs of her team seated nearby. Then, just as she was about to send a message—

The door swung open.

And there you were.

Dressed like you’d just thrown on whatever was closest—half effort, half effortless. Caitlyn had seen you in award shows and magazine covers before, but in person, you carried the same unpredictable energy as your music. A mix of confidence and recklessness, like you belonged in the room but could burn it down just as easily.

“Apologies for the wait,” you said, flashing a grin that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I had better things to do.”

Caitlyn arched a brow. “And yet, here you are.”

You smirked and dropped into the chair across from her, stretching your legs out like you had all the time in the world. “Guess we’re both stuck with this, huh?”

Caitlyn’s jaw tightened. She hated that you were right.

Elena cleared her throat. “Now that we’re all here, let’s get down to business.”

Your manager, Riley, was the first to speak. “This relationship needs to be believable. The media is already eating up the rumors—what we need is controlled exposure.”

Caitlyn barely suppressed an eye roll. She knew how this worked.

Public appearances. Paparazzi setups. Social media teases.

A performance.

She folded her hands in her lap. “Fine. What’s the plan?”

Riley pulled out her tablet. “We start with a casual ‘leak.’ Something subtle—like the two of you being spotted together at a low-key restaurant. Then we build it up. A few joint outings, a couple of social media posts, and eventually, something big.”

You let out a low whistle. “Wow. A whole script for our fake romance. Cute.”

Caitlyn narrowed her eyes. “I don’t see you coming up with a better idea.”

You tilted your head. “Because I wouldn’t have agreed to this in the first place.”

Caitlyn scoffed. “And yet, here you are.”

Your smirk faltered for half a second. Then, you leaned forward, resting your chin on your palm. “Tell me something, Kiramman.” Your voice was smooth, almost teasing. “Have you ever actually been in a real relationship? Or are you always this good at faking it?”

Caitlyn’s fingers twitched against her lap.

Her team stiffened, but she didn’t break eye contact.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

You hummed, tapping your fingers against the table. “Just curious how much practice you’ve had.”

Caitlyn refused to take the bait. “More than enough to make this work.”

Your lips curled into something unreadable. “Good to know.”

Elena, who had been watching the exchange with barely concealed exasperation, finally interjected. “Alright. Enough with the theatrics. The two of you need to at least pretend to get along if this is going to work.”

Caitlyn sighed, pushing down the irritation rising in her chest. She turned back to you. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

You grinned, propping your elbow on the table. “Lead the way, sweetheart.”

Caitlyn hated how much the nickname made her jaw clench.

Caitlyn exhaled sharply, clasping her hands on the table. “Alright. If we’re going to do this, we need rules.”

You smirked. “Rules? Cute. Didn’t peg you for a contractual obligations kind of girl.”

Her jaw tightened. “This isn’t a joke.”

“Never said it was.” You leaned back in your chair, draping one arm over the backrest. “So? What are your conditions, sweetheart?”

The muscle in her jaw twitched at the nickname, but she let it go. “First—no surprises.”

You raised a brow. “Define surprises.”

“I mean no unexpected interviews, no cryptic social media posts, and definitely no public incidents.” She shot you a pointed look. “I don’t need another scandal on my hands.”

You hummed, tapping your fingers against the table. “So basically, don’t be me.”

Her expression remained unreadable. “Just… keep things controlled.”

You sighed, resting your chin in your palm. “Fine. What else?”

She hesitated for half a second before continuing. “We need a timeline. A relationship that starts too fast will look suspicious.”

You tilted your head. “Oh? And what’s the official Kiramman guide to slow-burn romance?”

Caitlyn ignored the jab and pulled out her phone, scrolling through a set of notes. “First, a subtle leak—maybe a blurry paparazzi photo of us together.”

You snorted. “And what? Let the internet explode over one image? You must have a lot of faith in their delusions.”

“They are delusional,” Caitlyn admitted, tapping her screen. “Which works in our favor. We don’t have to confirm anything right away—just let the speculation build.”

You had to admit, it was a solid strategy. If people thought they had discovered something instead of being spoon-fed a PR stunt, they’d be ten times more invested.

Caitlyn continued, “After that, we move to casual sightings. A dinner here, an event there. Then, we start appearing together—smiling, interacting, making it look natural.”

You smirked. “And then what? Hand-holding? Gazing longingly into each other’s eyes?”

Caitlyn barely reacted. “If it comes to that.”

You blinked, caught slightly off guard. She was really taking this seriously. You studied her for a moment. The way she sat stiff and composed, the way her fingers tapped once—just once—against her phone before stilling.

You weren’t sure if she was trying to convince you or herself.

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head. “Alright. I’ll play along. But if I have to pretend to be madly in love with you, I need something in return.”

Caitlyn sighed, already exasperated. “What now?” You grinned. “You post at least one chaotic tweet about me.”

She deadpanned. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on. One tweet. A little ‘thinking about my girlfriend 🖤✨’ moment.”

She shot you a glare. “Do I look like I use emojis?”

You snickered. “Okay, fine. No emojis. But I will be saying something unhinged.” Caitlyn exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “…One. And I get to approve it first.” You extended your hand across the table, grinning. “Deal.”

She eyed your hand like it was an inconvenience before finally shaking it. The warmth of her fingers against yours was brief, fleeting. But it was enough to make you realize something. You were really doing this.

And soon, the whole world would believe it.

And soon, the whole world would believe it.  If there was one thing the internet did best, it was losing its mind over blurry, low-quality photos. You knew this. Caitlyn knew this. Her team knew this.

Which is why the first leak was designed to be just that—grainy, unclear, and infuriatingly vague.

It was taken the night before, when you and Caitlyn had been strategically placed at an upscale restaurant with just enough of a view for prying eyes. The table was tucked into a semi-private corner, but not too private. You were both dressed well—Caitlyn in a sleek, expensive blazer and you in something that screamed I don’t care, but I still look good.

A perfect storm.

And now?

Now, Twitter was in shambles.

@ popculturetakedown

🚨BREAKING: CAITLYN KIRAMMAN SPOTTED ON A DATE WITH [Y/N] [L/N]???!?!?🚨

A fan captured these photos of Caitlyn & [Y/N] last night at a private dinner 👀 Sources say the two looked “very comfortable” with each other. Could this be our new fave couple?!

[Attached: Three blurry, zoomed-in photos of you and Caitlyn, one where she’s leaning in slightly, another where you’re smirking at her, and the last where her hand is almost brushing yours on the table.]

💬 18.7K comments 🔁 55K retweets ❤️ 210K likes

—

@ user83723

WHAT DO YOU MEAN CAITLYN AND [Y/N] WERE ON A DATE?????

@ caitlynsbabe

I CAN’T BREATHE I CAN’T BREATHE I CAN’T BREATHE

@ altgirldreamz

There’s no way. NO. WAY. Caitlyn Kiramman and [Y/N] [L/N] in the same room? Flirting?? This is the most cursed AND blessed timeline.

@ y/nslays

WHO LET THIS HAPPEN LMAOOOOO THIS IS SENDING ME

@ insiderupdates

This could be Caitlyn’s first public relationship in years 👀 and of all people… [Y/N]??? What do we think??

You scrolled through the chaos, half-amused, half-impressed. It had barely been twenty minutes since the pictures hit the internet, and people were already acting like it was the apocalypse.

Across from you, Caitlyn sat stiffly in the black SUV her team had sent to pick you up. She was scrolling too, her expression unreadable as she took in the responses.

“Looks like they took the bait,” you mused, locking your phone. “Was it everything you hoped for?”

Caitlyn exhaled, setting her own phone aside. “It’s… effective.”

You grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She shot you a side glance. “Try not to let it get to your head.”

You placed a hand over your chest, mock-offended. “Me? Never.”

She didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, she adjusted the cuff of her sleeve, voice calm but firm. “The next step is to be seen together. Publicly.”

You raised a brow. “Oh? So we’re jumping straight to the first ‘accidental’ public date?”

Caitlyn nodded. “Something casual. Enough to be believable.”

You hummed, considering. “And by ‘casual’ you mean…?”

She didn’t hesitate. “An afternoon coffee run. Simple. Easy to stage.” You scoffed. “Wow, Caitlyn. A coffee run? Real riveting romance. Next thing you know, we’ll be holding hands at the farmer’s market.”

She ignored your sarcasm. “It needs to feel natural.” You sighed, stretching your legs out in the car. “Fine, coffee it is.” You glanced at her, smirking. “But we should probably start thinking about the bigger moments, don’t you think?” Caitlyn gave you a wary look. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know.” You tapped your chin. “Hand-holding, late-night walks, kissing…” Her shoulders tensed slightly—barely noticeable, but you caught it. You grinned. “Relax, princess. I’m just saying—we need to figure out when the first big ‘public’ kiss should happen.” Caitlyn exhaled slowly, collecting herself. “Not yet.” You tilted your head. “Scared?” Her gaze flickered to you, sharp. “No. I just prefer to plan things properly.” You smirked. “So you are thinking about it.”

Caitlyn didn’t answer right away. Instead, she glanced out the window, voice even. “If we do it too soon, it’ll seem forced. If we wait too long, it’ll feel like we’re avoiding it. We need the right moment.”

You watched her for a beat, intrigued. “And what does ‘the right moment’ look like to you?”

She turned back to you, meeting your gaze. “Something… impactful.”

For a second, the air between you felt different. Then Caitlyn looked away, checking her phone again. “For now, let’s focus on tomorrow’s outing.” You exhaled, amused. “Fine. But you better be ready, sweetheart.”Caitlyn didn’t look up. “For what?” You grinned. “For the world to start believing we’re madly in love.”

And with the way things were going, you almost started to wonder—

Would you be able to tell when the fake parts ended and the real ones began?

_

For a fake date, it felt insultingly real. The plan was simple: You and Caitlyn would “accidentally” be spotted getting coffee together, looking just friendly enough to spark more rumors but not confirm anything outright. It was textbook PR manipulation—organic in execution, manufactured in intent.

But what you hadn’t expected was how easy it was to fall into the role.

Caitlyn was already waiting when you arrived at the café, effortlessly poised in a navy trench coat, long legs crossed at the ankles. A pair of sunglasses sat perched on her nose, but they did nothing to hide who she was. People were already staring, phones not-so-subtly being raised. You sighed, rolling your shoulders before slipping into character.

Showtime.

“Hope you didn’t wait too long, sweetheart,” you greeted, trying to sound cool as you slid into the seat across from her. Unfortunately, the chair had wheels, so instead of sitting like a normal human, you rolled back a whole two feet.

Caitlyn blinked at you. Slowly. “You’re joking.”

“Nope. Just naturally gifted at ruining my own life.” You awkwardly scooted yourself back to the table.

Caitlyn exhaled like she was reconsidering every decision that led her to this moment. “You remember the plan?” “Oh, absolutely.” You nodded. “Step one: Look incredibly hot.”

Caitlyn gave you a blank stare.

You cleared your throat. “Step two: Act natural, do subtle things that make people wonder. Step three: Profit.”

“Not exactly how I’d phrase it,” Caitlyn muttered, lifting her coffee to her lips. “But… acceptable.”

You grinned, leaning forward on your elbows. “And what if I decide to go off script?”

"Absolutely not."

You grinned. “You’re no fun, Kiramman.”

She sipped her coffee, unaffected. “I’m efficient.”

Before you could respond, a movement from the sidewalk caught your eye. Two, maybe three people had stopped outside, their phones definitely angled toward your table.

Perfect.

You exhaled, stretching slightly before reaching for the extra cup Caitlyn had ordered for you. As you did, your fingers grazed hers—just barely, just long enough for the cameras to capture.

Caitlyn didn’t flinch. If anything, she played along, tilting her head in a way that made it look like she was watching you fondly.

You took a sip of your coffee, trying to look normal, and promptly burned your tongue so hard you almost screamed.

Caitlyn noticed.

Her lips twitched. Like she was fighting a smile.

You swallowed your pride (and the pain) before flashing a pained smirk. “Delicious.”

Caitlyn let out a short, amused exhale. “This is the most painful thing I’ve ever witnessed.” “Oh, just wait until you see me try to flirt properly.” Her gaze sharpened. “Please don’t.” You opened your mouth to respond, but then—flash. Flash. Flash.

Paparazzi had arrived.

You quickly shifted into “believable fake girlfriend” mode, resting your hand lightly on Caitlyn’s forearm. Just a touch. Just a hint of intimacy. Caitlyn barely reacted, but her gaze flicked down to your hand, then back up to meet your eyes. You cleared your throat. “For the cameras.”

Caitlyn arched a brow. “Right.”

Another flash.

You leaned in a fraction closer. “Okay, now maybe laugh at something I said.” “I haven’t laughed at anything you’ve said in the entire time I’ve known you.”

“Well, now’s a great time to start!”

Caitlyn sighed, looking off to the side like she was regretting everything. But after a moment, she let out a soft chuckle—one of those elegant, practiced laughs that sounded like it belonged in a goddamn perfume commercial. You stared at her, a little dazed. “Okay, not gonna lie… That was kind of hot.”

Caitlyn sipped her coffee, completely unbothered. “I know.” And just like that, the moment was over. Caitlyn set down her drink. “That’s enough for today.” You pouted. “Aw. And here I thought we were just getting started.” She shot you a look before gracefully rising from her seat. You scrambled to follow, nearly tripping over absolutely nothing in the process.

“Walk me to my car?” she murmured low enough for only you to hear.

You smirked. “Why, Kiramman… I didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

Caitlyn ignored you, already moving.

And as you opened the door for her—because of course you did—you caught the way she hesitated for half a second before sliding inside.

You smirked, shutting the door behind her.

This game was getting very interesting.

TWITTER REACTIONS:

@ celebrityupdates

🚨 Caitlyn Kiramman & [Y/N] [L/N] were spotted on a coffee date today, and we have thoughts. 🚨

[Attached: HQ photos of Caitlyn & [Y/N] looking effortlessly stunning at an outdoor café, subtle touches & stolen glances included.]

💬 24K comments 🔁 78K retweets ❤️ 310K likes

@ user930482

THE WAY THEY’RE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER??? THIS IS REAL I KNOW IT IN MY SOUL

@ y/n’sfanclub

I can’t believe [Y/N] pulled Caitlyn Kiramman. Like HOW????

@ popculturetheories Hot take: This is too perfect. It’s giving staged.

@ caitlynsnation

IDK IDK IDK this is either PR or the slowest burn romance ever and I’m here for it either way

@ altgirlsupremacy

If this is PR I don’t care. They’re hot. Keep it going.

____

Caitlyn’s phone was blowing up by the time she got back to her hotel.

She sighed, tossing it onto the couch before rubbing her temples.

This was going to get out of hand fast.

And yet…

Her mind kept drifting back to the way your fingers had lingered just a second longer than necessary.

Caitlyn exhaled, shaking the thought away. It was nothing.

Strictly business.

Nothing more.

Right?

___

Caitlyn wasn’t sure why she invited you to her hotel suite.

It was just practical, really. The paparazzi had been relentless since the café stunt, and her PR team wanted you both to “strategize” before your next public appearance. 

So, here you were, sitting cross-legged on her expensive leather couch, scrolling through your phone while eating grapes from the fruit platter she hadn’t even touched.

“You know,” you mused, popping another grape into your mouth. “For a fake girlfriend, you don’t spoil me nearly enough.”

Caitlyn exhaled through her nose. “I bought your coffee.”

“And yet,” you sighed dramatically, draping yourself across the couch like a Victorian widow, “my heart longs for more.”

Caitlyn did not smile. She absolutely did not. “You are insufferable.”

“You love it.”

She didn’t dignify that with a response.

Instead, she shifted in her chair, folding one leg over the other, and picked up her tablet. “There's an event is in two days. We need to discuss logistics.”

“You mean rules?” You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand. “Go on, boss me around.”

Caitlyn gave you a long, unimpressed look before swiping to her notes. “We have to look comfortable together. That means no flinching when I touch you.”

“I flinched one time.”

“You flinched three times,” Caitlyn corrected. “Once when I put my hand on your back, once when I brushed your arm, and once when I—” She stopped.

You smirked. “When you what?”

Caitlyn clicked her tongue. “Never mind. Just… act natural.”

You bit your lip, like you were holding back another comment, but thankfully, you let it slide. “Got it. What else?”

Caitlyn swiped again. “We’ll have to pose for photos. A lot of them. Close proximity is expected. Hand on my waist, my hand on yours—”

“—tender gazes into your breathtakingly beautiful eyes—”

She shot you a look.

You grinned. “Sorry, continue.”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes and ignored the sudden heat in her ears. “Lastly, and this is important, no kissing.”

That actually made you pause. “Wait—was that ever an option?”

Caitlyn’s expression didn’t waver. “It’s not.”

You studied her for a moment, like you were trying to gauge something. “Huh. Didn’t realize you’d be so strict about that.”

Strict.

Caitlyn schooled her features, but something about the way you said it bothered her.

She wasn’t strict. This was a professional arrangement. It had nothing to do with the way her pulse had stuttered for half a second when you casually touched her arm earlier. Or the way she’d caught herself staring at your mouth when you laughed at one of your own dumb jokes.

No.

That wasn’t part of this.

Caitlyn straightened her back. “It would complicate things.”

You hummed, leaning back against the couch. “Fair enough.”

A silence settled between you. Not awkward, just… lingering.

Caitlyn glanced at you, about to shift the conversation back to business, but then—

She caught it.

That tiny, sleepy smile you had as you looked at your phone, completely at ease in her space. The way your fingers absently played with the hem of your shirt. The soft glow of the lamp casting warm shadows along your cheekbones.

Something in her chest tightened.

It was nothing.

Except it wasn’t.

Because suddenly, the idea of pretending to be with you didn’t seem so hard.

And that realization?

That was dangerous.

___

The Next day, Caitlyn invited you to dinner.

It wasn’t technically a date. Just a controlled environment where you could practice “looking in love” without a million cameras flashing in your face. At least, that’s what Caitlyn told herself when she made the reservation at an upscale, very private restaurant.

You, of course, had other thoughts.

“So, what, are you wooing me now?” you teased, leaning back against the booth and glancing around at the dim lighting, the flickering candles, and the smooth, quiet jazz playing in the background. “Because I gotta say, this is a strong effort.”

Caitlyn didn’t even look up from the menu. “You like to hear yourself talk, don’t you?”

“Oh, constantly.” You rested your chin on your hand. “But seriously, this is very romantic for a business meeting.”

Caitlyn exhaled slowly. “I thought you’d appreciate the privacy.”

“Oh, I do.” You smirked. “It just makes me wonder… do you want to be alone with me, Caitlyn?”

She held your gaze, unimpressed. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Too late.”

Caitlyn shook her head and turned back to the menu, refusing to let you get under her skin. You had a habit of poking at cracks she didn’t even know she had.

A few minutes passed in silence—comfortable, surprisingly—before you leaned forward, mischief dancing in your eyes.

“You know,” you mused, plucking a piece of bread from the basket between you, “if we really want to sell this, we should probably know each other better.”

Caitlyn raised a brow. “We know enough.”

You snorted. “Do we? Because I can tell you right now, if some interviewer asks me what your favorite color is, I’m guessing.”

“…It’s navy blue.”

“See? I was gonna say beige.”

Caitlyn gave you a look. “Beige?”

“You just seem like the type.” You shrugged. “Anyway, let’s play a game.”

Caitlyn sighed. “I don’t play games.”

“You’re literally in one right now.”

She blinked. “…Fair point.” You grinned. “Okay, I’ll start. My biggest fear?” You paused for dramatic effect. “Public speaking.” Caitlyn tilted her head. “You perform in front of thousands of people for a living.” “Yeah, but that’s different. Singing, I can do. Standing on a stage and giving a speech?” You shuddered. “Horrifying.”

Caitlyn actually smiled at that. “Noted.” “Your turn.” You gestured at her with the bread. “What’s your biggest fear?” Caitlyn hesitated.

She could’ve said failure or disappointing people, but that felt too honest for a conversation over overpriced appetizers. Instead, she went with—

“Spiders.” Your eyes widened. “No way. Caitlyn Kiramman, the untouchable pop princess, is afraid of spiders?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s irrational, I know.” “No, no, this is amazing.” You grinned. “Imagine—your next scandal: Caitlyn Kiramman Screams at Tiny Spider in Five-Star Hotel, Security Called for Backup.” She gave you a deadpan look. “I regret sharing this already.”

“Oh, you love it.”

Caitlyn did not love it. Except, maybe, she kind of did. The conversation flowed effortlessly from there. You bounced from topic to topic, dragging her into small debates about whether pineapple belonged on pizza (it does, apparently, according to you), what the best movie genre was (you were shocked she liked horror), and whether dogs or cats were superior (you both landed on dogs, though you admitted cats were “cool little guys”).

At some point, Caitlyn found herself just… watching you.

You were effortlessly charismatic, expressive, and so unfiltered in a way that was utterly foreign to her. You didn’t calculate every word before speaking, didn’t hold yourself to an impossible standard of perfection. You just existed, and somehow, people—including Caitlyn—were drawn to you.

It was… frustrating.

And unfair.

And dangerous.

You caught her staring.

“What?”

Caitlyn blinked. “Nothing.”

But something had shifted. A line had been crossed, a moment slipped past without permission.

And the worst part?

Caitlyn didn’t hate it.

___

The ride back to Caitlyn’s hotel was quiet.

For once, you weren’t filling the silence.

Caitlyn glanced at you from the corner of her eye. Your head was tilted back against the seat, eyes half-lidded, hands resting loosely in your lap.

“You’re quiet,” Caitlyn noted.

You hummed. “That happens sometimes.”

She raised a brow. “Does it?”

You turned your head toward her, smiling lazily. “You wouldn’t know. We haven’t known each other that long.”

Something about that sentence made Caitlyn pause.

Because it was true.

She didn’t know you. Not really.

But in the span of just a few days, you’d already started lodging yourself into the space between professional and personal, and Caitlyn had no idea what to do about it.

You shifted, turning fully toward her. “Can I ask you something?”

Caitlyn hesitated, then nodded.

“What do you actually think of me?” Caitlyn’s lips parted slightly. The question caught her off guard—not because it was out of place, but because she didn’t have a quick answer. You weren’t what she expected. You weren’t quiet or obedient or easy to ignore. You challenged her. Pushed her. Got under her skin in ways no one else had dared to.

And now?

Now she was thinking about you too much. Caitlyn exhaled, schooling her expression. “I think you talk too much.” You smirked, unconvinced. “And?”

“…And you’re not as insufferable as I originally thought.”

Your smirk grew into a full grin. “See? Progress.” Caitlyn rolled her eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it.

You let out a satisfied sigh and leaned back against the seat again. “Well, for the record…” You turned your head slightly, your voice softer now. “You’re not as uptight as I thought, either.”

Caitlyn didn’t respond.

She didn’t know how to. Because for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t sure if she was playing a role or actually feeling something real.

And that?

That was a problem.

___

It was almost 1 AM when your phone buzzed. At first, you ignored it, assuming it was some random notification, but then it buzzed again. And again. Grumbling, you fumbled for your phone on the bedside table, barely cracking an eye open.

Caitlyn: Are you awake?

Caitlyn: Actually, that’s a stupid question. You don’t sleep at normal hours, do you?

Caitlyn: Never mind. Forget I said anything.

You squinted at the messages, brain still half-asleep, before quickly typing a response.

You: so u woke me up just to tell me to forget u said anything?

Caitlyn: You were NOT asleep.

You: what if i was

Caitlyn: Then I’d say that’s shocking because I swear you live off of pure chaos and caffeine.

You snorted, rolling onto your back and rubbing a hand over your face.

You: rude.

Caitlyn: Honest.

A beat passed. The messages stopped.

Normally, Caitlyn was the type to send exactly what she wanted to say and then put her phone down immediately. But something about the way she texted tonight—hesitant, indirect—felt off.

You frowned, your exhaustion fading slightly.

You: whats up?

Caitlyn: Nothing.

You: ur lying.

Caitlyn: I don’t lie.

You: now THAT is a lie.

There was a long pause.

Then—

Caitlyn: …Do you ever feel like you’re playing a role for so long that you don’t know who you actually are anymore?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

That was not what you expected.

For a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond.

Caitlyn didn’t usually let anything slip. She was composed, calculated, always saying the right thing at the right time. But this? This felt unguarded.

You hesitated, then typed:

You: yeah. yeah, i do.

Three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.

Caitlyn: How do you deal with it?

You thought about it. Really thought about it. There was no easy answer. Being famous meant always being watched. Always being judged, always being expected to live up to an image that sometimes didn’t feel like you at all. You sighed, typing slowly.

You: i do dumb shit so i remember i’m a real person

Caitlyn: Dumb shit?

You: yeah like idk. dancing alone in my kitchen at 3 am. walking into a store and buying the ugliest shirt i can find just to own it. making stupid faces at myself in the mirror

Caitlyn: That sounds ridiculous.

You: thats the point.

Another pause.

Then—

Caitlyn: …What’s the ugliest shirt you own?

You grinned.

You: oh babe. ur not ready for this.

And with that, you sent her a truly awful photo of the neon green, rhinestone-studded, bedazzled genital on the T-shirt you bought on a dare.

For a second, Caitlyn didn’t respond. Then—

Caitlyn: I feel personally offended by this.

You: good.

Caitlyn: I suddenly regret texting you.

You: no u don’t.

A minute passed. Then two. You weren’t sure if the conversation was over, but something about the night felt different now. Softer. Warmer. Then, finally—

Caitlyn: Thank you.

And maybe it was just text. Maybe it was just a small moment in the grand scheme of things. But it felt real.

___

“Alright, listen up, you two,” Riley, your manager, said, clicking her pen against the clipboard in front of her. “This is your first joint interview since the announcement, which means we need to sell it.”

You were slouched in one of the sleek leather chairs of the green room, arms crossed, fighting the overwhelming urge to roll your eyes. Across from you, Caitlyn sat perfectly upright, looking like she was actually paying attention. Of course she was. “I assume by ‘sell it,’ you mean we just sit there and look pretty?” you quipped, stretching your legs out under the table.

Riley gave you a flat look. “No. I mean you act like a real couple.”

Caitlyn sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “And what exactly does that entail?”

Riley turned her tablet around, showing an alarming number of social media posts. “Right now, the internet is obsessed with this relationship. They’re analyzing every glance, every touch, every word. Some think it’s fake, others are fully convinced you’re soulmates. Our job is to keep them guessing.”

You sat up slightly, peering at the screen. One of the tweets read:

@ y/n’sbiggestfan okay but the way [Y/N] looks at Caitlyn like she hung the stars in the sky???? that’s REAL. that’s LOVE. don’t talk to me.

You smirked. “See? I’m nailing this already.”

Riley ignored you. “This is The Tonight Show. Jimmy Fallon is going to ask you about your relationship. He’s going to joke about it. He’s going to show embarrassing photos, and you’re going to react like two people madly in love.” You grinned, turning to Caitlyn. “Did you hear that, babe? We need inside jokes.” Caitlyn’s expression remained blank. “I have none with you.” “Ouch.” You placed a hand over your heart. “That physically hurt me.”

Riley sighed. “Just… make it look natural. If he asks about how you got together, tell the usual story. And for the love of everything, please don’t do anything that will make my job harder.”

You leaned back in your chair, flashing a lazy grin. “No promises.”

_

The Tonight Show studio was packed, the crowd buzzing with excitement as Jimmy Fallon introduced you and Caitlyn.

“So, we have the hottest couple of the year with us tonight—please welcome, [Y/N] and Caitlyn Kiramman!”

The applause was deafening as you strutted onto the stage, throwing up a peace sign, while Caitlyn followed with her usual composed elegance. You both slid onto the couch beside Jimmy’s desk, the host already grinning like he was about to cause problems.

“Okay, first of all,” Jimmy started, barely containing his excitement, “I gotta ask—how’s it been since you guys went public? Because the internet lost its mind.” Caitlyn, ever the professional, answered smoothly. “It’s been… unexpected, but I think we just understand each other in a way neither of us anticipated.” You glanced at her, raising a brow. That was a surprisingly non-robotic answer from her.

Jimmy turned to you. “What about you? What drew you to Caitlyn?”

A slow, smug grin spread across your face. Oh, you could definitely have fun with this.

“Oh, she’s so charming,” you said dramatically, resting your chin on your hand. “It was impossible not to fall for her. She looks at you with those piercing blue eyes, and suddenly, you forget how to function.”

Beside you, Caitlyn stiffened almost imperceptibly.

You smirked and leaned in slightly. “And don’t even get me started on that voice of hers—low, refined, just the right amount of commanding.” You let your gaze drop to her lips for just a fraction of a second before looking back up. “Makes a person weak, you know?”

The audience erupted into laughter and whoops, eating up every second of your little performance.

Caitlyn, on the other hand, was gripping the armrest like it had personally offended her.

Jimmy grinned. “Caitlyn, your girl is quite the flirt. How do you keep up?” Caitlyn finally turned to you, her expression unreadable, though you swore you saw something flicker in her eyes. “I don’t,” she admitted, exhaling quietly. “I’ve learned that trying to match their energy is… a losing battle.”

You placed a hand over your heart, pretending to be touched. “She admits defeat. How romantic.”

Caitlyn shot you a warning look, but there was a telltale hint of pink dusting her cheeks.

Oh.

Oh, this was dangerous.

Jimmy laughed. “Okay, okay, last thing—every couple has fights. How do you two handle disagreements?” You barely had time to think before Caitlyn responded with a smooth, “We’re both very different people, but at the end of the day, we—”

“I flirt my way out of them,” you cut in, grinning.

The audience roared with laughter, and Caitlyn let out a slow, suffering sigh. The interview continued like that—questions, answers, and you throwing in just enough teasing to keep Caitlyn flustered but not enough to make her strangle you on live television.

By the time it ended, Caitlyn was still maintaining her calm, collected exterior, but you knew better.

As soon as you were off-stage, walking side by side down a quiet hallway, you leaned in slightly. “You were blushing back there.”

“I was not,” Caitlyn replied without looking at you.

You grinned. “You so were.”

Caitlyn sighed, rubbing her temple. “I despise you.”

“You adore me,” you corrected, flashing her a wink.

For once, Caitlyn didn’t have a response.

_

By the time the show wrapped up and you finally escaped the chaos, you were more than ready to go home and collapse onto your couch. Maybe drown yourself in takeout and ignore your phone for a few hours.

But, of course, that wasn’t in the cards.

Because Caitlyn, ever the picture of poise and restraint, had disappeared into a side hallway, and you had the distinct, nagging feeling that you should follow.

You found her standing by a window, arms crossed, staring out at the skyline like she was in some dramatic movie scene.

You leaned against the doorway. “You know, if you’re trying to look brooding and mysterious, you’re nailing it.”

Caitlyn didn’t turn to face you, but you saw the slight upward twitch of her lips. “Was I convincing?”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“On the show,” she clarified. “Did I seem… believable?”

You scoffed, walking over to stand beside her. “Believable? Caitlyn, people online are already making wedding edits of us. I think we overshot ‘believable’ by a mile.”

She hummed, thoughtful. “That’s… good, then.”

You studied her profile—sharp jawline, calm expression, but something distant in her eyes.

“Why do you ask?” you said, tilting your head.

“Because sometimes, I think I forget.”

Your stomach did something weird. Something annoying.

“Forget what?” you asked, even though you weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer.

She hesitated. Just for a second. Then, she straightened, her expression smoothing back into the Caitlyn Kiramman that the world knew. “Never mind,” she said lightly, stepping past you. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You stood there, unmoving, as her words settled over you.

Forget what?

And why did it feel like you almost understood?

_

TWITTER REACTIONS:

@ pressjunkie Caitlyn and [Y/N] are literally couple goals. You can FEEL the love.

@ y/nupdates Did you see the way Caitlyn looked at [Y/N]?? That’s ROMANCE.

@ theoriesonline They’re so in love, I’m gonna lose my mind.

@ caitlynsupremacy If this is fake, then so is love.

_

You lay sprawled across your couch, limbs tangled in the blanket you had pulled over yourself hours ago, phone held above your face as you scrolled through Twitter. The soft glow of the screen illuminated your expression—somewhere between amusement and disbelief—as your notifications flooded in at an overwhelming speed.

The Tonight Show interview had aired barely an hour ago, and already, social media was in full meltdown mode.

Your timeline was a mess of screaming, gifs, and fan edits appearing at a rate too fast to keep up with. Every scroll brought new tweets, some of them dangerously close to making you question reality.

@ y/nnation THE WAY SHE LOOKED AT HER. THE WAY SHE LOOKED AT HER. I CAN’T BREATHE.

Attached was a screenshot of Caitlyn mid-interview, her piercing blue gaze locked onto you. There was something in her eyes—something unreadable, something dangerous.

You swallowed and kept scrolling.

@ caitlynsupremacy Y/N FLIRTING HER WAY THROUGH THE INTERVIEW AND CAITLYN LOSING IT SOMEONE HOLD ME.

A clip played underneath, catching one of your more shameless moments:

"Oh, she’s so charming. It was impossible not to fall for her. She looks at you with those piercing blue eyes, and suddenly, you forget how to function."

The audience’s laughter. Caitlyn’s stiffened posture. The way her fingers tightened around her water glass.

You smirked to yourself. That had been a great moment.

Another ping.

Your best friend had texted.

Bestie: DUDE. THEY’RE WRITING FANFICS ABOUT YOU TWO ALREADY.

You groaned, tossing your phone onto your stomach and rubbing your hands over your face. Of course they were. Fans were ravenous when it came to celebrity couples, and you and Caitlyn had just handed them the juiciest material imaginable.

Still, curiosity got the better of you.

You picked up your phone again, hesitated for half a second, then typed Caitlyn x Y/N into the search bar.

The results? Pure chaos.

@ theoriesonline The way Y/N kept glancing at Caitlyn’s lips??? Be so real right now.

@ gaysforcaitlyn "Y/N flirting their way out of arguments" I JUST KNOW CAITLYN SECRETLY LOVES IT.

@ deluluupdates TS CRAZYYY. WATCH THEM GET MARRIED TOMORROW.

You snorted. That wasn’t happening.

Probably.

Before you could stop yourself, you clicked on a fan edit.

Soft music. Slow-motion clips of you and Caitlyn throughout the interview. The way you leaned toward her. The way she looked at you when she thought no one was paying attention. The way your fingers almost brushed when you reached for your water at the same time.

The caption?

"Even if they don’t say it, you can see it in their eyes."

You blinked at the screen. A weird, unfamiliar feeling settled in your chest, but you shoved it down quickly.

Your phone buzzed again—another text. This time, from Caitlyn.

Caitlyn: Are you seeing all of this?

You hesitated before responding.

You: Oh, you mean our fans planning our wedding? Yeah, just a casual Tuesday night.

Caitlyn: …I was referring to the fact that some people think we’re too perfect. Like we rehearsed everything.

You: Are you suggesting we don’t have natural chemistry? I’m hurt, truly.

Three dots appeared, then disappeared. Then appeared again.

Caitlyn: That’s not what I meant. I just think we need to be more… spontaneous. If we’re too perfect, people might start questioning it.

You smirked, already typing back.

You: So, what? You want us to get caught in some scandal? Maybe we should “accidentally” leak some private texts. Something like “thinking about you ;)"—very spicy, very real.

Caitlyn: Absolutely not.

You: You’re no fun.

Caitlyn didn’t respond immediately, so you went back to scrolling. But before you could get too far, another message popped up.

Caitlyn: Are you free tomorrow? We should be seen together. Maybe somewhere casual, no cameras. Just in case people think we’re only affectionate in public.

Your stomach did something weird at that. You ignored it.

You: You’re asking me out on a date? Caitlyn: If that’s what you want to call it.

You sat up, grin tugging at your lips. This was going to be interesting.

The typing bubbles appeared. Stopped. Appeared again.

Then—

Caitlyn: You were ridiculous on the show, you know.

You grinned.

You: And yet, you blushed.

Read. No reply.

You had her. You so had her.

Just as you were about to put your phone down, it buzzed again.

Caitlyn: For the record, I did not blush.

You: Oh? So if I search "Caitlyn Kiramman Tonight Show blush" on Twitter, I won’t find anything?

She left you on read again.

You laughed to yourself, shaking your head, but then another thought hit you.

This was supposed to be just PR. Just an image to maintain.

So why did it feel like something more?

___

Later that night, you met Caitlyn at a quiet café downtown, one that wasn’t swarmed with paparazzi or overrun with fans. It was strange—this was the first time you were out together without an audience.

Caitlyn was already seated at a corner booth when you arrived, her usual composed self, though her fingers tapped idly against her cup.

“You’re nervous,” you teased, sliding into the seat across from her.

Caitlyn scoffed, lifting an eyebrow. “I don’t get nervous.”

“Right. And I’m a model of self-restraint.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, she took a sip of her coffee, studying you over the rim.

“So,” you drawled, stirring your drink absentmindedly. “If we don’t have to perform, what do we even talk about?”

Caitlyn hesitated, then set her cup down. “I suppose… we could get to know each other. Properly this time.”

You blinked. You weren’t expecting that.

You leaned forward, chin resting on your hand. “Alright, then. What’s something nobody knows about Caitlyn Kiramman?”

She huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s an unfair question. My entire life is online.”

“Exactly. So tell me something real.”

Caitlyn was quiet for a moment, considering. Then, finally, she said, “I don’t like champagne.”

You stared. “That’s it? That’s your big secret?”

She shrugged, a tiny smirk playing at her lips. “You asked for something nobody knows. Everyone assumes I love it, but I hate the taste.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I feel like you’re holding out on me.”

“Maybe.”

The conversation flowed surprisingly easily after that—soft jabs, little confessions, Caitlyn rolling her eyes every time you made an outrageous claim. It felt… natural. Like this wasn’t just an act.

Which was dangerous.

Because when she smiled at you—not the carefully controlled one she used in interviews, but a real, amused, genuine smile—something in your chest tightened.

And for the first time since this whole thing started, you felt an inkling of fear.

What if this wasn’t just a game anymore?

What if, somewhere along the way, you actually started to believe it?

Caitlyn walked you back to your car after the café, her hands tucked into the pockets of her coat. The air was crisp, the streetlights casting a soft glow over the sidewalk. It should’ve been just another night—just another outing to maintain the illusion.

And yet, something about the night sat heavy in your chest.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Caitlyn said, stopping a few feet away from your car.

You hesitated. “You know, for a fake relationship, this is starting to feel suspiciously real.”

She smirked, tilting her head. “Maybe we’re just good at what we do.”

The way she said it—so casual, so confident—rubbed you the wrong way. You didn’t know why.

You shifted your weight. “Yeah. Right.”

Caitlyn’s gaze flickered over your face, something unreadable in her expression. She hesitated, then reached up, adjusting the collar of your jacket—an action so small, so intimate, that your breath caught.

Then she stepped back. “Get home safe.”

You barely managed to nod before slipping into your car, shutting the door a little too fast.

You sat there for a moment, staring at your steering wheel.

This was bad.

This was really bad.

Later that night, you were once again scrolling through Twitter, but this time, your mind wasn’t on the edits or the conspiracies. It was on her.

On the way her fingers had lingered when she fixed your collar. On the way she’d looked at you. On the way your heart had nearly betrayed you right then and there.

You shut your phone off and threw it onto your bed, groaning. “No. Nope. Not happening.”

You weren’t catching feelings for Caitlyn. You refused.

Except…

Your brain replayed everything—every touch, every moment where the line between fake and real had blurred just a little too much. You were so screwed.

_

The next morning, you arrived at Caitlyn’s place for another staged event—some kind of “impromptu” paparazzi run-in.

When she opened the door, she looked too good, wearing a fitted sweater and jeans, hair effortlessly styled. You hated that you noticed.

“You’re staring,” she said, smirking. You scoffed. “I was actually just wondering how someone can be so insufferable this early in the morning.” She hummed, stepping aside to let you in. “Come on. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can go back to pretending I don’t exist.”

The words shouldn’t have made your stomach twist. But they did. The paparazzi caught you leaving her apartment an hour later, her hand resting on your lower back as she guided you to the car.

You played your part well. You smiled, leaned into her touch, whispered something just low enough that the cameras couldn’t pick it up.

To everyone else, you looked like a couple deeply in love.

But inside, you were spiraling.

Because Caitlyn’s touch wasn’t supposed to feel this comforting. And your heart wasn’t supposed to race when she pulled you closer.

And yet, here you were.

Falling.

–

The problem with pretending was that, eventually, you started to believe it.

That was the thought that haunted you as you sat curled up on your couch later that night, staring at your phone like it held all the answers.

A simple photo of you and Caitlyn laughing together as you left her apartment—was blowing up. The internet was obsessed.

@ ynstan THEY LOOK SO IN LOVE PLEASE I CAN’T TAKE IT 😭💍

@ caitlynsimp That little whisper. The way [Y/N] leaned into her touch. It’s giving soulmates.

@ softforcaitlyn If this is fake, then so is gravity. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.

You groaned, rubbing your hands over your face. The world believed this romance was real. Every time you checked your notifications, there were thousands of fans analyzing every glance, every touch.

And the worst part? You weren’t sure they were wrong.

A sharp knock at your door snapped you out of your downward spiral.

You frowned, dragging yourself off the couch. When you opened the door, Caitlyn was standing there, looking just as exhausted as you felt.

“I figured you’d still be awake,” she said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

You shut the door behind her, raising an eyebrow. “What's up?”

She sighed, shrugging off her coat. “Apparently, my PR team thinks we should do an interview. A sit-down, deep-dive into our relationship.”

Your stomach twisted. Great. Another opportunity to pretend. Another opportunity to make this worse.

Caitlyn dropped onto your couch, stretching her arms over the back. “You don’t have to say yes. I know these things exhaust you.”

You snorted, walking over to grab two glasses. “And they don’t exhaust you?”

“I’ve had to fake being polite my entire life,” she said dryly. “This is just a different kind of performance.”

You hesitated, pouring the wine. “Do you ever get tired of pretending?”

Something flickered in Caitlyn’s expression, so quick you almost missed it. Then she exhaled, shaking her head. “It’s necessary.” You sat beside her, passing her a glass. “That’s not an answer.” She stared at you for a long moment, then gave a tired smile. “No. It’s not.”

And just like that, you felt that invisible line between you both blur even further.

Because for the first time since this whole thing started, Caitlyn wasn’t performing.

And that scared you more than anything.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat there, sipping wine in comfortable silence. It wasn’t unusual for Caitlyn to show up like this, slipping into your space as if she belonged there.

And the worst part? You didn’t mind.

At some point, Caitlyn had stretched her legs across your lap, the casual intimacy of it making your chest feel too tight. She was scrolling through her phone, her face illuminated by the screen’s glow.

Then, suddenly—

“Did you see this?” she asked, tilting the phone toward you.

It was another Twitter post.

@ ynxcait4ever okay but the way [Y/N] touches Caitlyn so naturally??? like they don’t even think about it??? THEY’RE IN LOVE.

Attached was a clip from your most recent outing together, where you had casually placed a hand on Caitlyn’s back as you guided her through a crowd. A touch so small you hadn’t even thought about it.

But now, watching it back? You realized just how real it looked.

Your throat went dry. “Huh.” Caitlyn hummed, taking another sip of her wine. “They’re very observant.” You laughed, but it felt forced. “Or delusional.” Caitlyn smirked. “Possibly both.” Silence settled between you again. But this time, it felt heavier.

Because the problem wasn’t that people believed in this relationship.

The problem was that you were starting to believe in it, too.

—

You weren’t sure what woke you up first—the soft morning light filtering through your curtains or the warmth beside you.

Wait.

You cracked one eye open, blinking against the drowsiness.

Caitlyn was still there.

Somehow, in the haze of late-night conversations and too much wine, the two of you had fallen asleep on the couch. Caitlyn’s arm was draped loosely around your waist, her body curled slightly toward yours.

Your heart stuttered.

This wasn’t part of the plan.

Carefully, you shifted, attempting to untangle yourself from her without waking her up. But the moment you moved, Caitlyn stirred, her brows furrowing.

“Mmh…” she mumbled, still half-asleep.

You froze.

Then, her grip on you tightened, just slightly.

And she mumbled something else.

Something that made your breath catch.

“Don’t go.”

Your entire body went still.

For a long moment, you just sat there, staring at her.

Did she know what she was saying?

Did you?

Your pulse was hammering now, a war waging inside your chest. You knew what this was supposed to be. A PR stunt. An act. A lie.

But this?

This didn’t feel like a lie.

Caitlyn’s breathing evened out again, slipping back into sleep.

And you—against all better judgment—let yourself stay.

Just for a little longer.

Just until you figured out what the hell this all meant.

You told yourself you’d get up soon.

You really needed to get up.

But Caitlyn’s arm was still around your waist, her body warm against yours, and for some godforsaken reason, you just… stayed.

You weren’t sure how long you lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t anything.

And yet—

Caitlyn shifted slightly, pressing her face into your shoulder, and your breath hitched.

Okay. Maybe this was something.

The realization made your stomach twist.

You were playing a dangerous game, toeing a line that wasn’t even visible anymore. This was supposed to be fake, but nothing about this felt fake. Not the warmth of Caitlyn’s body against yours. Not the way your heart stuttered at every little unconscious touch. Not the way you wanted to stay wrapped up in this.

Your fingers twitched at your side, aching to reach out—to pull her closer instead of pulling away.

You were so fucked.

Then, Caitlyn stirred, letting out a sleepy hum before slowly blinking awake.

For a brief second, she just looked at you, her expression soft with sleep and something unreadable.

Then—realization hit.

Her body stiffened slightly. The warmth in her eyes shuttered behind something unreadable, something carefully controlled.

You swallowed. “Morning.”

Caitlyn blinked again, as if she was still processing the fact that the two of you were still tangled together like this. Then, she cleared her throat, slowly untangling herself from you. “Morning,” she murmured.

You missed her warmth the second it was gone.

She sat up, running a hand through her slightly messy hair. “I should… probably go.”

And just like that, the moment was gone.

You forced a smirk, trying to shove down whatever the hell you were feeling. “Wow, you’re not even gonna stay for breakfast? Rude.”

Caitlyn let out a small breath of amusement but didn’t take the bait. She was already slipping back into her usual poise, smoothing out her clothes, pushing any vulnerability she might’ve shown back beneath a carefully constructed mask.

That stung more than it should have.

She glanced at you, hesitating for half a second. “…Last night. It—” She cut herself off, shaking her head. “It won’t happen again.”

Your smirk faltered.

Right.

Because this was fake. Because she didn’t feel what you felt.

You ignored the way your chest tightened. “Yeah,” you said lightly, forcing an easy grin. “Of course.”

Caitlyn gave you a small nod before heading toward the door.

You waited until it clicked shut behind her before exhaling sharply, rubbing a hand down your face.

You were so fucked.

The moment she stepped out of your apartment, Caitlyn let out a slow breath, pressing a hand against her chest as if that would do anything to steady the ridiculous pounding of her heart.

What the hell was wrong with her?

She knew the answer.

She just didn’t want to admit it.

Because if she admitted it, then this entire thing—the careful distance she tried to maintain, the lines she kept redrawing—would fall apart completely.

And Caitlyn could not afford to fall for you.

She shook her head, straightened her posture, and walked away.

She just had to pretend this wasn’t happening.

She just had to lie.

–

Scrolling through Twitter was a mistake.

You should’ve known better. You did know better.

And yet, here you were, lying on your couch, staring at your phone as the internet collectively lost its mind over you and Caitlyn.

@ ynxcaitforever Y’ALL. THE WAY THEY LOOK AT EACH OTHER. IT’S NOT NORMAL. THIS ISN’T A DRILL.

@ caitlyniswinning What do you mean they were seen leaving a cafe together last night?? Oh, this is so real.

@ y/nstan Caitlyn giving [Y/N] her jacket… SHE’S SUCH A GENTLEWOMAN.

You groaned, tossing your phone onto the couch beside you.

The thing was—you should be laughing at this. You should be sending the tweets to Caitlyn with some dumb joke about the internet eating this up.

Instead, your heart was doing something stupid, twisting in your chest in a way that made your stomach turn.

Because the way Caitlyn looked at you did make your breath hitch.

Because the way she touched you did make your skin burn.

Because for a moment last night, tangled up in the warmth of her arms, you let yourself forget that this was a lie.

You let yourself want it to be real.

And that was dangerous.

Your phone buzzed.

Caitlyn: Are you free today?

Your stomach flipped. Pathetic.

You stared at the message, fingers hovering over the keyboard. You could say no. You should say no.

Instead—

You: Yeah. What’s up?

Caitlyn didn’t know why she texted you.

She told herself it was to keep up appearances. That’s what she kept telling herself about everything lately.

But the truth—the truth was far more terrifying.

Because she wanted to see you.

And that was a problem.

Her phone buzzed.

You: Yeah. What’s up?

She exhaled.

Caitlyn: Want to go for a drive?

You: This isn’t some elaborate scheme to kidnap me, is it?

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched.

Caitlyn: Would it make a difference if it was?

A pause. Then—

You: Depends. Are we getting coffee first?

—

You didn’t realize how much you needed fresh air until Caitlyn’s car cut through the open road, city lights fading behind you.

The silence between you was surprisingly comfortable. Music played softly from the speakers, the low hum of the engine filling the spaces between your thoughts.

You glanced at Caitlyn. She was focused on the road, her hands steady on the wheel, her profile illuminated by the glow of the dashboard lights.

Something about her like this—calm, unguarded—made your chest ache.

You turned away, staring out the window. “This is nice.”

Caitlyn hummed. “You sound surprised.”

You smirked. “Well, last time we were alone in a car together, you yelled at me for talking too much.”

Caitlyn scoffed, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. “That was justified.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Whatever you say, pop star.”

She didn’t argue, just let the music fill the air again.

And then—

“You’ve been quiet today,” she said.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh. Have I?”

Caitlyn gave you a knowing look. “I’ve known you long enough to recognize when something’s on your mind.”

That should’ve been your cue to deflect, to change the subject, to lie.

But sitting here, in the quiet, with Caitlyn next to you…

You sighed. “I was scrolling through Twitter.”

Caitlyn let out a soft laugh. “That’s your first mistake.”

You smiled, but it was weak. “They think this is real.”

Silence.

Caitlyn’s fingers tightened slightly on the wheel.

You exhaled. “Do you ever feel guilty?”

She glanced at you. “For what?”

“For lying.”

Caitlyn’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought she wasn’t going to answer.

Then—

“I try not to think about it.”

You swallowed. “And does that work?”

A beat of silence.

“No.”

The admission sat heavy between you. Neither of you said anything for a while. Then—Caitlyn let out a slow breath.

“This was supposed to be simple,” she murmured. You turned to her, watching as her expression flickered—like she wasn’t sure if she was saying this to you or herself.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “It was.”

Neither of you said the obvious—that it wasn’t anymore.

And maybe it never was. The drive back was quieter. Heavier. You weren’t sure if it was because of the conversation or because of the way Caitlyn was gripping the wheel like she was holding onto something that was slipping away.

You should’ve dropped the topic. You should’ve.

But instead—

“You never answered my question,” you said softly, staring at the passing streetlights.

Caitlyn glanced at you. “Which one?”

You hesitated. “Do you feel guilty?” A muscle in her jaw twitched. “I thought I did.”

You turned to look at her, but she kept her eyes on the road. “Thought?”

Caitlyn inhaled sharply, exhaling through her nose. “I don’t know if guilt is the right word anymore.” You frowned. “Then what is?”

A pause. A long, heavy pause.

Then—

“Conflicted.”

Your heart skipped.

You weren’t sure what to say to that.

Because the thing was—you felt conflicted too.

But for a completely different reason.

Because this was all supposed to be fake. The lingering touches. The effortless conversations. The way your breath caught when she looked at you like she felt something she shouldn’t.

But now—now, your heart was betraying you.

And you weren’t sure if you were the only one.

Caitlyn pulled into your driveway, shifting the car into park. The engine cut off, leaving only the soft hum of the outside world.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you spoke.

It was one of those moments—one of those moments where the air was thick with something neither of you wanted to name.

You turned to her. She was already watching you.

“Caitlyn…”

You weren’t sure what you were going to say.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to say it.

But before you could, she exhaled, breaking eye contact. “You should get some rest.”

It stung.

And you hated that it did.

You forced a small smile. “Right. Yeah.”

You reached for the door handle, pausing.

And maybe it was reckless. Maybe it was stupid.

But you turned back, leaning in just enough to whisper “You know, you really suck at lying.”

Then you were out of the car, closing the door behind you before you could see her reaction. Because if you stayed any longer, you weren’t sure if you’d have the strength to walk away.

Caitlyn didn’t move.

She sat there, hands still gripping the wheel, staring at the empty passenger seat like she could still feel the ghost of your presence.

Her heart was hammering.

Because the way you looked at her just now—

Like you knew.

Like you saw through her.

Like you could hear the war raging inside her, the part of her that knew this was all fake—the part of her that was terrified because she wanted it to be real.

She let out a shaky breath, leaning back against the headrest, staring at the roof of the car.

She was screwed.

Because maybe—just maybe—she was starting to fall for you—no, she was falling for you.

And that?

That was dangerous.

-

You barely slept.

Not because you weren’t tired—you were exhausted. But every time you closed your eyes, your mind kept circling back to Caitlyn. The way she looked at you. The way her voice softened when she admitted she felt conflicted.

You weren’t stupid.

You knew what this was supposed to be. A PR stunt. A mutually beneficial arrangement. Something with an expiration date. But lately, it hadn’t felt like that. Lately, every lingering glance, every touch that lasted too long, every almost had started to mean something.

And that terrified you.

Because if Caitlyn felt the same way—if she was starting to feel the same way— Then what the hell were you supposed to do when this all ended?

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing against your nightstand.

Your heart lurched when you saw the name.

Caitlyn Kiramman.

For a moment, you just stared at it, thumb hovering over the screen.

Then, before you could overthink it, you answered.

“Hello?”

A pause.

Then—

“Good morning.”

You swallowed. “Hey.”

Another pause.

You swore you could hear her exhale. “I—uh. I was thinking… I mean, we should probably be seen together today.”

Right. Of course. That’s what this was about.

You shouldn’t have expected anything else.

You forced a casual tone. “Right. Yeah. Where were you thinking?”

Caitlyn hesitated. “There’s a cafe in the city. Small, private. We won’t be swarmed there.”

That wasn’t like her. Caitlyn never cared about privacy before. The whole point of this was to be seen.

But maybe that was the problem. Maybe she didn’t want to be seen like this.

Not after last night.

Not after the way things felt like they were teetering on the edge of something neither of you were ready to admit.

Still, you nodded. “Alright. Text me the details.”

“Okay.”

Another silence.

Then, just as you were about to hang up, she said, almost too softly—

“I’ll see you soon.”

And for some reason, it sounded more like a promise than a plan.

The place Caitlyn picked was nice. Warm lighting, soft music, tucked away from the rest of the city’s chaos.

But your mind wasn’t focused on that.

Your mind was on the way Caitlyn looked when she walked in.

Dark jeans, a fitted coat, sleeves pushed up just enough to expose her wrists. A small silver watch glinted under the light.

And her hair—slightly tousled, like she’d run her hands through it a few too many times on the way here.

She looked… good. Unfairly so.

And worse? She looked nervous.

She didn’t get nervous. Not Caitlyn Kiramman.

But today, she sat across from you, fingers curled around a porcelain coffee cup, and refused to meet your eyes.

You swallowed.

“So…” You tried to sound normal, even if your heart was not. “You seemed in a hurry to see me.”

Caitlyn huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah. PR reasons.”

You arched a brow. “PR reasons.”

She finally looked at you. Really looked at you.

And for a second, it was hard to breathe.

Her voice was softer when she spoke again. “Is that all you think this is?”

You blinked.

Your throat was dry.

“Isn’t it?”

A muscle in Caitlyn’s jaw twitched. She set her cup down.

And suddenly, the air shifted.

Like you were both standing on the edge of something dangerous.

You should’ve backed down. You should’ve laughed it off.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you leaned in, just slightly, and whispered—

“You tell me.”

Caitlyn’s breath hitched.

For a moment, just a moment, you thought she was going to say it.

Admit it.

Ruin everything.

But instead, she exhaled shakily, leaned back in her seat, and said—

“Finish your coffee.”

And just like that, the moment was gone.

But not forgotten.

Not even close.

The rest of the coffee date felt like a game of pretend.

You and Caitlyn talked about things that didn’t matter—weather, upcoming projects, travel schedules—skirting around the elephant in the room. It was like last night and the tension from earlier had never happened.

Or at least, that’s what Caitlyn wanted you to believe.

You weren’t convinced.

Her fingers tapped against her cup too often. Her gaze flickered toward your lips when she thought you weren’t paying attention. And when your knees brushed under the table, she tensed but didn’t move away.

It was subtle, but it was there.

And maybe you were a little bit of a masochist, because you pushed it.

You stirred your drink absentmindedly. “You know, people are gonna think we’re breaking up soon.”

Caitlyn blinked. “What?”

You nodded toward the corner of the cafe. A guy in a hoodie was pretending to read a newspaper, but the camera lens peeking through the pages was obvious.

“You’re being distant. Not holding my hand. No sickening pet names. Tabloids are gonna eat that up.”

Caitlyn’s jaw clenched. “You think I care what the tabloids say?”

You smirked. “You should.”

Then, without warning, you reached across the table and took her hand.

Her breath hitched.

For a moment, she just stared.

It was stupid. Your hands had touched before. Paps had caught you tangled up in each other, bodies pressed too close, lips at each other’s ears like lovers whispering sweet nothings.

But this?

This felt more intimate.

More dangerous.

Her fingers twitched under your touch, but she didn’t pull away.

“If you don’t care,” you murmured, tilting your head, “then this shouldn’t bother you.”

Caitlyn’s gaze snapped up to meet yours. Her lips parted, but no words came out.

Checkmate.

She squeezed your hand once, like a silent warning, before letting go.

“Let’s go,” she said, standing up. “We’ve been here long enough.”

—

The air was thick with unspoken words. Caitlyn had been tense since you left the cafe, fingers gripping the wheel a little too tightly. You watched her for a moment, then sighed. “You’re mad.” “I’m not mad,” she said, but the sharpness in her tone suggested otherwise.

“You are mad.”

Caitlyn exhaled sharply. “I just—” She hesitated. “You don’t get it.”

Your brows furrowed. “Then make me get it.”

Silence.

Then, finally, she said, “This is already… difficult. You don’t have to make it harder.”

You blinked. “What?”

Caitlyn swallowed, staring straight ahead. “You do things like that. Hold my hand. Look at me like…” She exhaled. “Like it means something.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“And it doesn’t?” you asked, barely above a whisper. Caitlyn gripped the wheel tighter. “It can’t.”

For a second, neither of you spoke.

Then, before you could stop yourself, you murmured, ���I think it already does.” Caitlyn’s fingers twitched, but she didn’t look at you.

You both knew you’d crossed a line.

The problem was—neither of you were sure you wanted to go back.

The car ride back was too quiet. Caitlyn hadn’t said a word since you muttered I think it already does. She kept her eyes on the road, jaw tense, hands gripping the wheel like she was bracing for impact.

You were bracing, too. You’d been playing this game for weeks—flirting just enough to make headlines, touching just enough to make it convincing, keeping the world fooled while pretending you weren’t fooling yourselves.

But now?

Now, the game wasn’t fun anymore.

Now, you were sitting in Caitlyn Kiramman’s stupid expensive car, feeling like you had just ruined something neither of you had the guts to name. The weight of it settled between you, heavy and suffocating.

The tension didn't break until Caitlyn pulled up in front of your apartment. She put the car in park but didn’t move to unlock the doors. Didn’t even look at you. You stared at her profile, frustration bubbling up in your chest.

“You’re just gonna act like that didn’t happen?” you asked. Caitlyn’s grip on the wheel tightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You let out a dry laugh. “Seriously?” She finally turned to you. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes—those sharp, too-blue eyes—were full of something raw.

-

Your phone vibrated on the couch. A text.

Caitlyn: Can we talk?

You stared at the message, pulse skipping.

A part of you wanted to ignore it. Wanted to pretend that you hadn’t just spent the last hour spiraling over a situation you weren’t even supposed to care about.

But you weren’t that strong.

You: Door’s open.

A few minutes later, there was a soft click as Caitlyn let herself in. She didn’t look at you right away. Just stood near the doorway, shifting on her feet like she was considering leaving before she made things worse. Too bad. She was already here. You sat up, raising a brow. “So?”

She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “I—” She hesitated. “I shouldn’t have shut you out like that.”

You folded your arms. “No kidding.”

Caitlyn let out a soft, humorless chuckle. “I just…” She trailed off, struggling to find the words. “This is getting messy.”

You huffed a laugh. “Yeah, no shit.”

She finally met your gaze, and for the first time, you saw it—hesitation.

Like she wasn’t sure if she was about to ruin everything.

You swallowed hard. “Caitlyn, what are we doing?”

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Then, finally, she whispered, “I don’t know.” You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Silence stretched between you, thick with things neither of you were brave enough to say. And then, slowly, carefully, Caitlyn took a step closer.

Your heart stuttered.

She was close enough now that you could see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes—the same uncertainty that had been clawing at you for weeks.

“If we keep going like this…” Caitlyn swallowed. “Someone’s going to get hurt.” Your throat felt tight. “Yeah.”

Neither of you moved. Neither of you dared to cross that last, dangerous line.

But for the first time, it felt like you weren’t running in circles anymore. For the first time, it felt like you were standing on the edge of something real.

And you had no idea what to do about it. You should have said something. Caitlyn was standing there, close enough that you could see the slight part of her lips, the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed.

Close enough that if you just reached out—just a little—you could close the space between you. But neither of you moved. You just stood there, staring at each other like two people standing at the edge of a cliff, waiting to see who would jump first.

“…We should stop this.” Caitlyn’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

Your heart twisted. “Do you want to?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it.

That silence was enough of an answer.

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides. “You can’t keep doing this,” you muttered. “You can’t keep pulling me in just to push me away.”

Caitlyn flinched, like the words physically hit her. “I’m not—” “You are,” you snapped, your chest tightening. “Every time I start to think this means something, you remind me that it doesn’t. And I let you.” Caitlyn sucked in a breath. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then explain it to me!”

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

And that—that—was what hurt the most.

Not the hesitation. Not the way she kept denying what was right in front of her.

But the fact that even now, even when the weight of this thing between you was crushing, she still wouldn’t let herself want it. You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. “That’s what I thought.”

You turned, rubbing a hand down your face, trying to steady yourself. Trying not to let it show just how badly this was getting to you.

And then—softly, barely above a whisper—Caitlyn said, “I’m scared.” You froze. She never let her guard down like that. Not with you. Not with anyone.

Slowly, you turned back to her.

Caitlyn’s hands were clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. Her expression was tight, her walls cracked just enough for you to see through. You exhaled. “Scared of what?” She swallowed. “That if I let this happen… if I let myself feel this…” She shook her head. “I won’t be able to stop.”

The words knocked the air out of your lungs. You could handle her pushing you away. Could handle her pretending this wasn’t real.

But this—this raw admission—was too much.

Your voice came out quieter than you intended. “And that would be so bad?” Caitlyn looked at you then, really looked at you, and for a second—just a second—you saw it. All the fear. All the longing. All the things she’d been trying so desperately to deny.

But then, just like that, the walls went back up.

She inhaled sharply, straightening her shoulders. “I should go.”

Your stomach dropped.

She was running again.

Of course she was.

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to nod. “Right. Of course.” Caitlyn hesitated—like she wanted to say something, do something—but instead, she turned on her heel and walked away.

You didn’t stop her.

You just stood there, staring at the door after it shut behind her, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of you. The moment the door shut behind her, you felt it—the ache in your chest, the unspoken words clawing at your throat, the unbearable weight of letting her go again.

No.

Not this time.

Your feet moved before your mind could catch up, carrying you forward as you yanked the door open and stepped into the hallway.

“Caitlyn!”

She froze at the sound of your voice.

For a moment, she didn’t turn around. She just stood there, shoulders tense, fists clenched at her sides like she was bracing herself.

You took a step closer, then another. “Don’t do this.”

Caitlyn swallowed, her head tilting slightly like she was considering your words. Then, she shook her head. “I have to.”

You exhaled sharply, your heart pounding. “No, you don’t. You just want to.”

Finally, she turned to face you.

Her eyes were guarded, but you saw through it—saw the hesitation, the conflict, the part of her that didn’t actually want to walk away.

You took another step, closing the space between you. “Tell me to stop,” you murmured. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want this.”

Caitlyn parted her lips—whether to speak or to breathe, you weren’t sure—but no words came out.

She couldn’t say it.

You reached for her hand, your fingers brushing against hers. “I know you’re scared,” you whispered. “But so am I.”

Caitlyn exhaled shakily, and that was when you saw it—the moment her resolve cracked, the moment the fight left her.

And then, suddenly, she was kissing you.

Desperately.

Like she was making up for all the times she ran. Like she was trying to say all the things she never let herself say.

You barely had time to react before you were kissing her back, your hands fisting the front of her shirt, pulling her in closer.

Caitlyn’s fingers tangled in your hair, her body pressing against yours as if she needed you closer—needed this, needed you.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, both of you breathless.

Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to stop.”

You smiled softly, your fingers tracing the edge of her jaw. “Then don’t.”

Caitlyn let out a shaky breath, her grip on you tightening like she was scared you’d slip away if she let go. Her forehead stayed pressed against yours, her warm breath fanning across your lips.

For once, she wasn’t running.

For once, she was here.

But you needed more than this fleeting moment—you needed her to stay.

You reached up, cupping her face, tilting it so she had no choice but to look at you. “Caitlyn,” you murmured, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you. “Don’t leave me again.”

Her eyes flickered with something unreadable—fear, longing, hesitation. But then her hands slid down to your waist, her fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt like she was anchoring herself to you.

“I don’t want to,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.

Your heart clenched. “Then don’t.”

Caitlyn swallowed hard, her lips parting like she wanted to say something else, but instead, she kissed you again—slower this time, lingering, like she was memorizing the feeling.

Your arms wrapped around her, holding her as close as possible, afraid that if you let go, she’d disappear again.

The hallway around you blurred into nothing—there was only her, only the warmth of her lips, the tremble in her hands, the way her body pressed against yours like she was afraid you’d vanish, too.

When she pulled away, she didn’t go far. Her forehead pressed to yours again, her fingers skimming your sides like she still wasn’t sure if she was allowed to touch you.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted, voice raw. “I don’t know how to let myself have this.”

You exhaled softly, brushing your thumb over her cheek. “Then let me show you.”

Caitlyn closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply, and when she opened them again, something had shifted.

There was still fear, but there was something else, too.

Something like acceptance.

“…Okay.”

It was barely a whisper, but it was enough.

You smiled, pressing another soft kiss to her lips. “Okay.”

_

@PopCultureDaily

🚨BREAKING: Caitlyn Kiramman and [Y/N] spotted on a romantic late-night date… and yes, THEY KISSED! 💋👀

Paparazzi caught the two sharing a slow, intimate kiss outside a quiet, upscale restaurant, and the internet is LOSING IT.

📸 [Attached Image: Caitlyn cupping [Y/N]’s face, kissing them softly under the glow of city lights]

Fans are already calling it the most cinematic moment of the year. Are we finally witnessing the real-life romance of the century?! 😭❤️ #CaitlynAnd[Y/N] #PowerCouple

@ fangirl_101

WE WON. WE ACTUALLY WON. 🫠

@ shipname_updates

The way she’s holding [Y/N] like they’re the most precious thing in the world… yeah, I’m unwell.

@ lesbianrights

HISTORY IS BEING MADE.

And just like that, the internet had its confirmation.

It was real.

And this time, neither of you were running from it.

A/N - didnt get to proofread this one... sori guys late post UGHHH.

[canmom]

nooooo stop writing sexy letters i'm trying to beat you at chrononauts

as mentioned a little earlier, today I read This Is How You Lose The Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone...!

Before we dive into the spoilers, a brief word about what this book is...

TIHYLTW is a semi-epistolary novel about time travellers Red and Blue and, essentially, their enemies-to-lovers romance as they play spy games across the broad, branching timeline, acting respectively on behalf of the ultra-high-tech 'Agency' and the biopunk 'Garden'. Each chapter consists of a brief vignette depicting one or the other at their work, ending with the discovery of a letter (in some abstract, poetic form like a dead fish) from their counterpart, followed by the contents of that letter.

A lot of the structure of this book is explained by the knowledge that this was written as a kind of chain-writing project: El-Mohtar and Gladstone hashed out the broad premise but then alternated writing the chapters, with Gladstone taking on the role of Red and El-Mohtar as Blue. Each would respond to the other's letter and advance the story a little bit. In essence, then, this is also something like a play-by-post roleplaying game. I have played both chain-writing games and play-by-post roleplaying so this all ends up feeling quite familiar.

What's remarkable, given that approach, is that this book manages to maintain a generally consistent voice and clear narrative progression. But knowing how it's written still gives you some insight, because you can read it in the light of improv comedy. For example, when Red describes Blue's world, so far undefined, as 'viney-hivey elfworlds', this is what in improv terms we call an offer: you define something and hand it off to the other person to iterate or play on it somehow. In this case, El-Mohtar has Blue gently rebuff this as 'full of silly stereotypes' and ask for a more genuine reply about her own life (this is early in the romance, where they are expressing mutual curiosity which also serves as exposition); Gladstone can oblige and give us Red's backstory.

In some cases, the fingerprint of chainwriting is very obvious. One chapter has Blue sign off 'see you in London next' - Gladstone responds to this by setting the next chapter in an alternate-world city called 'London Next', 'the kind of London other Londons dream'. This wordplay, reinterpreting the last entry in an unexpected light, is such a blatant chainwriting move.

Two writers who vibe, with a back-and-forth, is probably about the ideal scale for this kind of game. At university I played chain-writing games in a large group, where each player got to contribute only one section to the story; this too often became a 'too many cooks' situation, whose pacing would suffer from the lack of larger structure. As a player in that kind of game, you'd have to balance leaving your own fingerprint by adding elements to the story, and advancing what had already been written (I very much tended to the former). Too often it would fall to the last person in the chain to try and hastily tie the story up in some sort of resolution.

Play-by-post roleplaying games don't have that 'one entry per player' limit, but the problems of time zones/availability and the general principle to not 'godmod' meant that often the game would either die pretty quickly or turn into a situation where each person was essentially writing their own story in isolation, with minimal interaction with others. Which can be fun: a collection of web serials on a theme is a perfectly valid writing project. But it's not really a collab in this way.

A project limited to just two writers, on the other hand, can build up a rhythm, and this is what happens here. A lot of the charm of this novel is the playfulness of the back and forth, not just in the letters themselves, but also in the settings introduced and gradual expansion and iteration of the concepts. This feels like it would be a tremendously fun game to play (ehem).

Now, let's apply the Spoiler Zip, and talk about some details.

So this is essentially a spy story; it is a story of the two characters, both prodigy agents, mutually defecting from the Time War to elope together. Though there's plenty of drama when they get found out, death fakeouts, a kind of classic gay personality synthesis...

Most of the chapters end with a 'Seeker' appearing to swallow up the remnants of the letter that has been read. With 'hunger' becoming a symbol of the relationship in the letters, and the time travel theme, I guessed that this character would somehow represent a synthesis of the two characters retracing their relationship. Well, almost!

Broadly, the dénouement is: Blue strikes a (rather vaguely defined) decisive move in the Time War, but Red's superiors figure out some of the situation and set her up to entrap Blue; Red appears to have killed her (with a letter naturally), but she goes rogue and attempts to assimilate enough of Blue's being (through the letters) to enter the Garden and innoculate her against the poison at birth, thus allowing Blue to turn out to be alive and save Red from space prison. So it's not quite another 2010s SFF story in which a lesbian carries the ghost of her dead girlfriend in her head but... it sorta is, innit.

As might be evident from that paragraph, the time travel model in this story is definitely of the 'timey-wimey' variety. It's not really about that; the logic is much more poetic than it is, well, logical. Characters move very freely 'upthread' (towards the distant past) and 'downthread' (towards the scifi future). Their adventures tend to take them to fairly recognisable bits of history, with a reasonable sprinkling of mythology.

What they're actually doing in these places is broadly speaking similar to the card game Chrononauts if you've ever played that, attempting to shape the futures by changing the past, but generally speaking in subtle ways - we're given various examples of saving crucial people from disasters, inspiring inventions, and so on. Of course, they must have a reason for this subtle approach: in this case, 'chaos' is anathema to both sides.

Our characters, as superspies constantly assuming different identities and assassinating people and all sorts of other things, are pretty disconnected from the people whose lives they mess with - something that becomes more explicit later, with the remark that the work involves, often, killing and saving the same people in different timelines. As such, there are few particularly well-defined characters in the story besides Red and Blue - the only real exception being Red's scary, nameless Commandant. Now and then we'll get the allusion to a historical figure, such as Genghis Khan, but only rarely. These bitches have eyes only for each other. Their interactions are frequently compared to a game (mostly go, sometimes a little chess), and the places they pass through are relevant largely insofar as they constitute moves in the game.

This is where I think the comparison to Italo Calvino that I made earlier breaks down. Here, the setting is in large part colour: material for the playful romantic interactions of our two spies. There are definitely some imaginative setpieces - I liked the computer cult of Hack, and the prehistoric valley of bones - but in contrast to Invisible Cities where the relationship between Marco Polo and Kublai Khan is a frame story and the vignettes about cities are the main focus, here the balance is opposite.

On that front of setting, I think I found the factions themselves a little insubstantial. Of course, the point of the novel is in large part that their differences are generally superficial and should be transcended - but beyond that their natures are fundamentally opposed, we never get a huge sense of why the Agency and Garden are battling over the timelines. One is plant themed, the other is robot themed. One plays the long game, the other likes finesse. But both Blue and Red are in some major way alienated from their society - indeed, Red even suggests this is the major qualification for becoming a time agent in her society. They fight the Time War because... they were constructed to do it, because it's a relief from existential despair, and later, because it's sexy to fight a Time War with someone?

If interpreted as an enemies to lovers arc, well, it's not really that. More of a strangers to lovers arc; there is little to not antagonism outside of the occasional bravado about who will win the game. They're really the ultimate u-haul lesbians. But perhaps that's putting a foreign frame on it. 'Courtship through scifi strategy duel leading to transformation through synthesis' is literally a premise I wrote too, I can't possibly complain about it!

I refuse to add another 'lyrical' to the pile, but I can't deny the craft on display here. Still, sometimes the allusions feel a bit too 'local' to my time and place to belong to truly alien beings. Sometimes this is lampshaded - for example, in the first letter from Blue, Ozymandias is quoted, but immediately described as an 'overanthologised work of the early Strand 6 nineteenth century'. That sets up a callback later in one of Red's letter. Another time, Blue recommends Red a fantasy novel written in the 50s, remarking that it is (somehow) the same in every timeline it appears. It's tricky to know how to call this - if the allusions were made up or too obscure, you'd lose the playful way in which they are invoked, yet having a strange transhuman future creature throw out references that feel like they belong to a 20th century university student feels like it familiarises a little too much.

Some of the wordplay also feels... how to put this. The example I'm thinking of is that the characters start riffing on a 19th century etiquette book to help Red get the hang of letter-writing, and this makes reference to a scented seal (wax thing that is used to close an envelope). So Red embeds her next letter inside a seal (marine mammal). My natural assumption is that the characters are speaking $mysterious_future_language, but this kind of pun makes it impossible to read them as speaking anything other than English, right?

But that's the tone of this novel. It's constantly teasing. The Utena influence (I'm told Gladstone is a fan) is certainly strong.

There is something, too, to the way that Red's arc is to step away from the cyborg state where all her inconvenient organs and biological needs can be shut off, and expose herself to what we could call more human experiences - hunger, crying. This is clearly deliberate and rich in metaphorical valence (she is becoming more akin to Blue, and more distant from her utilitarian origin), but she's also coming towards us. This isn't a flaw in the novel, but more a limitation of the medium: we can only see through our own experiences, and thus to write a comprehensible emotional arc for an alien being, we must build our own 'bridges' (to use the novel's metaphor, see what I did there you fuckers) to their experience, and make them more human...

Taken as a spy story, I think the issue is perhaps that the characters are too important. Far from cogs in a vast, grinding geopolitical machine, it feels like Red and Blue are the most important people in all the universes, the only players that matter on either side. Their courtship is inevitable - they just don't need all these other chumps, who can't see how sexy it is to write emotional letters to your rival spy. Everyone else is basically an NPC.

As much as I rib it though, this was basically the perfect train book, and made that five hour journey pass in a breeze. I don't know that I'd really put it on Calvino tier, but I'd still definitely recommend giving it a read, it's a good playful book about lesbians doing a hilariously overcomplicated courtship and what's not to love about that.

As a final addendum - I've been gently reminded that El-Mohtar is 'the prototypical bi woman married to a man who goes to great pains to constantly remind everyone she's not straight', which, you know, fair enough lmao. If my bi granny hadn't married a guy (eight years her senior, no it did not go well), then I wouldn't exist! I just think it's kind of funny.

(and ftr? I don't actually give a shit whether the people who write a book belong to the 'right' identity category. On the contrary, I think everyone should write a gay romance at least once, it's good for the soul, maybe you'll realise you like it more than you thought you would, eh~)

[czargasm]

Chelsey czargasm's Fics of 2024

Stealing this from my beloved @scoops404 because it seems fun and because I easily spent 50+ hours betaing for her this year, so I earned it. Go check out her fic roundup if you're looking for some great DNF to read.

The premise: every fic I wrote in 2024 from my personal least favorite to my personal favorite. I included all pairings, which this year were DNF, ANF, and dip&pip. The fic I co-wrote with @alittledizzy, in sickness and in health, isn't included, but you should go check it out if you want some beautiful Dan and Phil medical hurt/comfort in a tour setting.

Overall stats: 13 fics (including the cowritten one); 186,737 words.

The Glow Squid Hunter - T - 19,260 - This was written for the Fairytales from the SMP collab and is a retelling of the Scottish folktale "The Seal Catcher" with Dream as the titular hunter and George as a glow squid shapeshifter (my first and only "minecraft setting" to date). I really struggled writing this one, which is what puts it at the bottom of my list. This fic taught me that less is more with outlining and that I operate best as a discovery writer, which is incredibly important to know.

Swipe Right - E - 9,848 - A one shot inspired by a tweet. DNF meet on a dating app and get together, but with a few twists along the way. It does what it says on the tin. A fun fic, but ultimately not my favorite.

I Like The Way You Look In My Things - E - 3,926 - Written in one day over two sittings, with a break for an existential crisis in between. Inspired by the bracelet George was wearing on his birthday stream. Basically pwp, but nothing wrong with that.

without consequence - E - 5,563 - A summer bingo fic—this one centered around DNF giving each other a hall pass but ultimately deciding they belong to just each other. There's not much to say about this one except that it was fun to write and gave me the opportunity to revisit the ANF dynamic, which is something I love.

The Waiting Game - E - 10,783 - My own take on the "how DNF finally got together" trope, following the development of their romantic relationship from discord chats through twitch con, Antarctica, Christmas, and finally getting together during a very special week in Jan 2023. The highlight for this really is the bathtub scene, which is so romantic it actually makes my chest hurt.

staring at the sun - E - 2,956 - The summer bingo fics really pushed me outside my normal type of writing, as best shown here. PWP but with a whole mess of stuff added in. My shortest fic of the year, but it accomplishes a lot in just a few words. DNF from the perspective of awesamdude in the cuck chair, complete with edging, mild bondage, and soft-dom Dream.

A Voice in the Dark - E - 18,297 - This is a fic that was more fun in concept than it was in writing. It's ultimately really good fic with a lot of fun tropes snuck in there -- secret identity, falling in love with someone based on their voice, they were roommates.

here kitty, kitty - T - 8,265 words - George makes the wrong witch angry and gets transformed into a cat; cat lover Dream saves the day. This was another summer bingo fic and when I came up with the idea, I thought it would be a crackfic. Instead, it ended up being silly but incredibly sweet and heartfelt and inspired some of my favorite fan art ever.

This Would Never Happen on the Hallmark Channel - E - 18,909 - Probably recency bias, but this one was SO MUCH FUN to write. My last fic of the year too, so if you haven't read it, what are you waiting for? Dream writes Hallmark Channel movies and George is starring in his most recent one. Strangers become friends with benefits become lovers, all while trying to keep things on the downlow so Mr Hallmark doesn't find out. Guys, it's so fun and so good, I promise!!

Holding On For Just Tonight - E (4,207 words) - my first ever phanfic. I almost trashed this so many times because I wasn't confident in writing Dan and Phil's voices, but it ultimately turned out really good and I'm pretty proud of it. Definitely looking forward to exploring this dynamic more in 2025.

Our Own Terrible Way - E - 34,290 - This is probably the most popular fic I ever published and most of my regular readers (not all, but many!) found me through this one. George and Austin start a FWB situation that ultimately ends with George and Dream finally getting together. I loved writing it, I love rereading it, I love talking about it. It made me fall in love with Austin as a character and ANF as a pairing, and I always want to do more with them.

Every Mountain Tells A Story - E - 43,072 - Literally no one should be surprised. This isn't just my favorite fic of the year--it's my favorite thing I've ever written. I got to combine two of my very best hyperfixations into one fic: DNF and high altitude mountaineering disasters. It's not my most popular fic sadly (I think it should be), but the people who read it LOVED IT and they've been very devoted to it since. I still regularly get asks and comments about it, and I never get tired of talking about it.

[brendadaaedestler]

Fanfiction Author Interview Game

Thank you so much @backlitmademoiselle for the tag!!

How many works do you have on ao3?

Presently, I have 25!

What's your total ao3 word count?

211,553, which is honestly lower than I would have expected.

Your top 5 stories by kudos:

Sticky Notes and Serendipity || collab with @nerdywriter36 || Erik/Christine || 224 kudos

Drinks and Kisses || collab with @nerdywriter36 || one shot || Erik/Christine || 80 kudos

Storge || one shot || Erik/Christine || 66 kudos

I Am a Wreck When I'm Without You || one shot || Erik/Chrisine || 65 kudos

Let Me Love You Anyway || one shot || Erik/Christine || 56 kudos

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I respond to almost every comment! The only times I don't are if I don't feel it merits a reply, or in the case that it's a collab fic and my co-author has already replied.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

The one I've written with the angstiest ending is probably one that I wrote years ago (long before I was on ao3) that was set post Kay's novel. Nadir ended up dying shortly Erik did, and the last scene was told from Darius' perspective and, if I recall correctly, covered his discovery that Nadir had passed away in his sleep overnight. Not sure why I did that to myself, but I'm pretty sure I cried writing that one.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

I'm going to have to say probably Sticky Notes and Serendipity! Y'all haven't seen the epilogue yet, but I promise you it's a good one!

Do you write crossovers?

If we're talking about the typical "characters from Fandom A meet characters from Fandom B," then no, I don't, and I don't intend to.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Thankfully not!

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope, and don't have plans to start!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not unless someone's done so without my permission, which is 100% not okay. Please don't do this, y'all, always ask the fic author's permission.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Oh yes. @nerdywriter36 and I collab quite frequently. We may or may not be working on a secret project right now 👀

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Definitely would have to be Erik and Christine. I'm an "I can fix him" girly, what can I say?

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I can't think of any off the top of my head.

What are your writing strengths?

I'd like to think I'm pretty decent at dialogue. My bestie also claims I'm good at scene descriptions, but I don't see it.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I sometimes get so caught up in getting the dialogue down and getting out the information that I need to come out of the dialogue itself that I sometimes forget that the dialogue isn't the only part to the scene. I also feel like I could be a lot better at describing settings/world building.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I think that if it's going to be done, a translation should be provided. It makes it difficult for the reader if they don't read/speak the second language. I try to shy away from it in my own writing.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I've always wanted to do some sort of Les Mis fic, but I've never been sure of what I'd do.

What's your favorite fic you've written?

I have to say that Sticky Notes and Serendipity holds a special place in my heart. This one started out with just the general idea of writing some sort of modern Cherik au, and it came out so much better than I could have ever hoped. And Em and I have just been blown away with how well this fic has been received, which has just made it even more special!

Tags: @nerdywriter36 @ablatheringblatherskite @rose-margaritas @meilas @angel-with-paper-wings @wheel-of-fish @starlitexpress @plant-books

[ja-khajay]

Tagged by @ervona to post about 5 songs I've been listening to lately! Making a little mix and match playlist based on the half dozen tracks on my phone and songs I've recently discovered. I will detail a bit about each under the cut :)

Nouar - Cheika Rimitti (rai)

Twilight of the Thunder god - Amon Amarth (metal)

What's Golden - Jurassic 5 (hiphop)

Sledgehammer - Peter Gabriel (pop)

Potions - Puscifer (? rock ?)

NOUAR

A few months ago, the combination of discovering a rai playlist on Spotify based on an artist I listen to with friends and another discovery of a radio station that exclusively plays north african and middle eastern music, the latter which became my go-to listen on the way from work for a while, I discovered this specific track. It's a huge niche hit, unknown to the general public but racking up in the millions of views online among fans of the genre and it's easy to see why! This is an absolutely hypnotic track which cleverly layers it's intrument with a catchy sung melody, periodically cut by the rythmic choir repeating its title. The main singer in the dialog has an outstanding voice and this all makes for a looping, hooking listening experience that makes you want to play it forever.

Twilight of the Thunder God

In a very different vibe, we have a track that perfectly matches it's overdesigned, historically based (yet inaccurate) cheesy madness of an album cover. This is the only song if this band I'm familiar with as a big hit. Power metal is among some of my favorite genres of music of all time, especially in it's overbearing energy and gratuitous use of double-pedals on the kick drum, fast bass and general theatrics. While I'm not a fan of growled vocals, this track compensates in my mind with one of THE catchiest hooks I know of in the genre. When I listen to TofTG, it's because I suddently remember it one day and get instantly compelled to download it on my phone and scream its lyrics at the sky until it leaves my head where it's stuck. This can take weeks...

What's Golden

Yet another radio discovery! I'm shamefully bad at hiphop, despite liking the genre a lot, no-one around me listened to it for ages so I don't have similar backlog as in other genres and as such as a grown adult am discovering it all with enthusiasm. This song sums up so many aspects I love in the genre which i'll definitly be using to nail what specific sub-genres are my favorite some day... catchy with a great flow and an instrumental that hooks you, it's impossible to not nod along to the beat and drop what I'm doing to listen to the full thing when it comes up on my playlist.

Sledgehammer

Yeah yeah it's a classic you all know it. And for a reason! This is one of, if not the only song I know which I can't separate from it's music video. I typically dislike MVs and prefer listening to music in pure audio format, but Sledgehammer comes with such a well crafted, wlel synched and creative film attached that it's always playing in my head when I hear it. This song was introduced to me by a mutual a few years ago which I'll be tagging in this post later as a thank you! I don't get its appeal as a dancey song, but it's definitly a track to dramatically walk to, which is probably the appeal the rest of this site sees in Once in a Lifetime...

Potions

For the nerds in the audience, this is a Reznor and Maynard collab so you know what you're getting into. The first thing that strikes me in this track is how loud the bass is - it turns the classic rock instrumental it's made from into something else that's just slightly overwhelming. And on top of that, very delicate vocals detail a raw, simple story of love and addiction. Where I chose this song above the many others of the band I'd been listening to a lot last month is this particular theme it has fits very well with a book series I'm reading right now, and it was easy for me to let my mind fly away with it on...:)

***

Runner ups: The Shame Of Life - Butthole Surfers / Ai vist to Lop - Mont-Jòia / Feuer Frei! - Rammstein / For me, Formidable - Charles Aznavour / It Mek - Desmond Dekker & the Aces

***

Tagging, your turn! @steamclouds @prolibytherium @internationalspacehobo @paristonhilll

[whataweirdfeeling]

HELLO welcome to WAWF WEDNESDAY your monthly WAWF update [1st Wednesday of each month]

Considering it is now the month of May @whataweirdfeeling favorite short film is at its 6th & final of the ongoing hexalogy that is 'CLAIR' Find out more about the film and check out what else WAWF has been up to and more

Read below to find out what else WAWF has been up to this month

WAWF NEWS: LVL 6

CLAIR is a bi-annual/seasonal short film by our curator @vyngak [Half released Nov 30 & half May 3] based on clairaudience and the paradoxical nature of music and history symbolically repeating itself through quicker stronger and faster natures The path of CLAIR is a journey all told as a true story of real world events intuitively experienced then reimagined in a glamorously exaggerated fictional universe All for the love of music All for the love of art Walk through CLAIR’s plethora of tastes mediums and discoveries Grow with it as it has and will continue to grow with the ever changing universe Watch and listen to each CLAIR on our curators Instagram @vyngak as we approach the official release of clVIr [lvl 6]

WAWF’s CRANKING

Recent: Hyperdrama [Album] - Justice

Bars ~ WE STILL DON’T TRUST YOU [Album] - Future, Cold Visions [Album] - Bladee, The Coldest [Album] - Skilla Baby,

Alt ~ All Born Screaming [Album] - St. Vincent, Teething [Album] - Porij, Your Day Will Come [Album] - Chanel Beads

Smooth ~ PARTYNEXTDOOR 4 [Album] - PARTYNEXTDOOR, Jeremy [Album] - Yung Bleu, Boundaries [Album] - Sinéad Harnett

Lowkey: BRODIE WORLD [Album] - AG CLUB

Bars ~ My Gift To You [Ep] - Hardrock, Molly Santana [Album] - Molly Santana, BORN2BEGREAT [Single] - Untiljapan

Alt ~ Still Corners [Album] - Dream Talk, Save The World [Album] - AceMo, Dennis [Album] - Sega Bodega

Smooth ~ Two Star & The Dream Police [Album] - Mk.gee, Still [Album] Erika de Casier, Fabiana Palladino [Album] - Fabiana Palladino

Still in Rotation: 99.9% [Album] - KAYTRANADA

Bars ~ The Life of Pablo [Album] - Ye, Whole Lotta Red [Album] - Playboi Carti, Birds In The Trap Sing McKnight

Alt ~ The Slow Rush [Album] - Tame Impala, City Club [Album] - The Growlers, Thunder [Single] - Roy Blair

Smooth ~ Blonde [Album] - Frank Ocean, “Awaken, My Love!” [Album] - Childish Gambino, Heaven or Hell [Album] - Don Toliver

Throwback: Kala [Album] - M.I.A.

Bars ~ Stankonia [Album] - OutKast, The Shining [Album] - J Dilla, #1 Girl [Album] - Mindless Behavior

Alt ~ Contra [Album] - Vampire Weekend, The Lumineers [Album] - The Lumineers, Plastic Beach [Album] - Gorillaz

Smooth ~ 4 [Album] - Beyoncé, Corinne Bailey Rae [Album] - Corinne Bailey Rae, Comin' From Where I’m From [Album] - Anthony Hamilton

WAWF’s MAKING

Welcome to #WAWFsmaking where you can check out new @whataweirdfeeling creations or join in on the fun

In honor of the official release of clVIr [lvl 6] this Friday [May 3rd] @whataweirdfeeling wanted to keep it animated with the official release of the new show/mini series we have been working on.. STAY TUNED

Join WAWFie [WAWF internet Explore] on his first adventure! Through 'The Adventures of WAWFie' #WAWF will grow and learn about each and every one of the intricacies the World Wide Web has to offer..through animation of course

See Ep 1 of 'The Adventures of WAWFie' on Instagram @whataweirdfeeling and let us know in the comments where you would like WAWFie to venture in the next episode

WAWF’s Wearing

In honor of 'CLAIR' check out our new @whataweirdfeeling x T33n Ang$t article '#WAWFt33n' styled with some specific editorial T33n Ang$t pieces similar to those of past CLAIR films

Also be sure to check out our new @whataweirdfeeling x Backtracking Film collab drop for WAWF Shop Drop 004 - 'Keep Calm and #WAWF'

Backtracking will be showing May 4th at the Grace St. Theatre

Along with promoting/supporting growing artists like these WAWF magazine pushes fashion culture and much more

Words/Curated by

[promptsblog]

Anon prompt requests: (Part 2: Vlogger prompts)

Here are some vlog-themed writing prompts:

1. Your character starts a vlog to document the last year of high school. What secret does the camera capture that wasn't meant to be shared?

2. A group of friends discover a channel where the vlogger eerily resembles one of them. What happens when they start watching the videos?

3. Your character is an investigative journalist, vlogging their discoveries as they uncover secrets within their insular world.

4. A vlogger who specializes in debunking myths decides to tackle a local urban legend.

5. Your character starts accepting challenges to boost their view count, but the challenges begin to escalate in dangerous ways.

6. A famous vlogger mysteriously disappears. Your character decides to follow the clues left in their last few videos to find out what happened.

7. A collab gone horribly wrong.

8. Your character’s pet gains internet fame through their vlog. How does this sudden popularity change both their lives?

9. A beauty vlogger starts receiving mysterious products from an anonymous sender. The products seem high quality at first but start to have some strange effects on the vlogger.

To be continued...

Part 1

[soundsandstuff]

new sh*t that dropped last week

new music friday recap - jul 12

here are my highlights of some of last week's (7/7-7/11) new drops — or at least the ones i listened to:

the tops ★

aaa - hyukoh & sunset rollercoaster (💿)

after that incredible lead single (young man), this collaboration between hyuko (🇰🇷) and sunset rollercoaster (🇹🇼) was probably one of my most anticipated july releases; and let me just say this: it blew my mind.

melodically, this album is a delight. from your feel-good sunny-summer-day indie rock moments to more atmospherical and immersive psychedelic tracks - the album navigates so smoothly through very different sounds in such a captivating way. you just can't stop listening.

the production in this is also incredible. there are so many details to discover within each track which make for the overall listening experience a very entertaining one.

it's a solid 9/10 for me. this is easily one of my favorite indie rock releases of 2024.

top 3 tracks: kite war, young man, aaaannnnteeeeennnaaaaaa

2. charm - clairo (💿)

for someone who has been a clairo listener since her early days, it's always exciting to listen to her new records. it feels like catching up with that one friend you see every couple of years. you see, over the course of her career, she has partnered up with different incredible producers for each project to give us a peek into her life and her journey of self-discovery.

we have witnessed her growth happen before our eyes through her work, both sonically and thematically. this is most evident in this record. her lo-fi bedroom pop days from the start of her career are far behind her as she steps into a territory where she feels most confident.

there's a certain warmth to this record. this record has a very 70s inspired sound. it's jazzy, it's folk-y, psychedelic at times. it's very cohesive as a whole, and has some captivating melodies all throughout. her voice, as always, is mellow and whisper-y at times. however, this fits perfectly in the theme and context of this album making giving a sense of intimacy

i think this is a 8.7/10 for me.

top 3 tracks: slow dance, terrapin, echo

the saved ⟡

still what i'm looking for - mac demarco & ryan paris (🎵)

this is the second mac demarco and ryan paris collab, and it's just as incredible as the first one. though this only features ryan paris' vocals, it feels like the perfect choice for this nostalgic adult contemporary melody injected with mac demarco's signature style. fingers crossed we get more collabs in the future.

2. floating parade - michael kiwanuka (🎵)

welcome back, michael kiwanuka. this is his first single in three years, and by the looks of it we're in for a very promising new era. it's soulful, it's dreamy, definitely a must-listend.

3. mary jane - orion sun (🎵)

the strings in this song are sick, complementing very well her very signature ethereal soul/rnb sound. her pen game also remains top tier. it did resonate thematically a lot with me. there's a certain honesty and vulnerability behind her work, which i quite enjoy.

4. drugs n' lullabies - isaiah falls (💿)

though his soulful vocals are a delight to listen to, the production behind this record is the star of the show. the production here is incredible, giving this rnb/soul record a very fresh sound. its funky with a little psychedelic groove to it, it's soulful, and there's some hip-hop influence all throughout the record.

not dull moment listening to this record, for sure. i was so eager to listen to the next song, waiting to be surprised — and i was every time. the downside: some of the songs are a little short, sometimes a little too short. with a production like that you can't help but want more.

there's a few tracks i would've removed, if i'm being honest, as they feel a bit like fillers in comparison to some other stronger songs on the record. however, there's still a little charm in some of these lighter tracks.

overall an 8.5/10 for me. i'm a big production guy and this record gave me everything i needed.

top 3 tracks: city birds, love me or love me not, meet me by the moon.

5. posse ep volume 2 - metronomy (EP)

this is a very interesting project. posse vol 1 left very big shoes to fill, and i'm not sure metronomy quite achieved it in this one. however, it was a very enjoyable project to listen to. he's showcasing once again his range as a producer with very interesting sounds and an interesting lineup of collaborators. saved 3/5 tracks which i will definitely be revisiting.

top 3 tracks: nice town, my love, with balance

6. yustyna - artemas (💿)

though i often feel hesitant when it comes to acts that blow up on tiktok, artemas is one i am very intrigued by. i love this sort of post-punk/pop noir vibe he brings to the table. he kind of reminds me of the sound blackbear or the neighborhood used to have around 2014. maybe it is that nostalgia that draws me towards his projects.

my only downside with this projects is that it feels a bit shallow at times, which makes me question the authenticity behind it. with a sound like this you would expect maybe a little more lyrical complexity or depth of some sort. at times it feels as he's pushing this hedonistic persona on us a little too hard.

nonetheless, this is a very interesting project with a very cohesive production all throughout. saved some tracks from here, and will be keeping him on my radar for upcoming releases. who knows, maybe his persona will be a little more convincing on his next project.

overall 6.5/10. i wasn't really blown away overall because how one-note it felt lyrically/thematically, but i see the potential.

top 3 tracks: i always kew you'd be the death of me, dirty little secret, you're simply wonderful.

7. big ideas - remi wolf (💿)

this is a project i haven't finished listening yet. however, i was super into it during the first half. i must say my favorite song so far have been the more rnb oriented tracks; however, my favorite think in this record is how many different sounds and genres she is exploring with. theres fun pop songs, some more on the rock pop side. i do love a variety. remi wold is definitely on my radar.

top tracks so far: motorcycle, kangaroo

the okays & the skips ⏭

x's - cigarettes after sex (💿)

if you're a fan fof cigs after sex's hazy psychedelic dream pop sound, it is always pleasant to listen to one of their records. i will be honest tho: there's no much novelty going on here. it seems they have grown comfortable on that one specific sound and the recurring themes of longing and heartbreak, which over time seems to have also diluted the depth their lyrics once had.

this one's an okay. giving it a 6/10. it's not a bad record, but there's certainly not a standout track. it seems as if there hasn't been one since their self-titled record. gun to my head and i still couldn't tell these songs apart from each other.

however, it does feel like a record you would find yourself listening to one day. though one-note , there's a certain comfort to their sound. sometimes you just need to float away on the hazy reverb-heavy guitars as greg gonzalez whispers moody melodies of heartbreak into your ear.

top 3 tracks: hideaway, baby blue movie, x's

2. no questions - tyga & sabrina claudio (🎵)

this one is just okay. sabrina claudio brings her silky vocal performance into the track, which is always a treat. however, there's just something about tyga i'm not really a fan of. there's just nothing unique (?) about him or his delivery. feels like any other rapper that goes viral on tiktok everyone will forget about in a couple of days.

3. dreams i see - kid kudi (🎵)

nothing special about this song tbh, and the production feels lazy and generic even. i miss the experimental kid cudi. this was a skip for me, sorry.

4. corazón - nelly furtado & bomba estéreo (🎵)

her lead comeback single was incredible. the sound was exactly what we expected from the one who gave us some of the most iconic bangers of the 2000s. it had a certain familiarity to her signature sound, but with a more current feel.

however, this sound feels very foreign to her, and bomba estéreo feels like an odd collaborator given the lineup of collaborators she has already teased for this era. she is outside her element, and i understand her choice to experiment with different sounds (as that is sort of an unwritten requirement the general public is demanding from pop artists in the 2020s); but it feels a bit... off. a skip.

5. heaven - toro y moi, kevin abstract & lev (🎵)

a little more hip-hop/pop than your usual toro y moi, which is kind of a bummer considering there's a certain uniqueness to the production of his previous work that i kind of enjoy. wasn't necesarily bad, but just okay i guess?

6. open this wall - berlioz (💿)

ever since their debut ep (jazz is for ordinary people), berlioz has been on my radar. its something that i only could describe as feel good jazz infused with house. this project is a little more house-y than their debut ep, which sometimes does give it a bit of an elevator music kind of vibe. i would've loved if they kept exploring a bit more the jazzy sound of their previous record. nonetheless, there are some very enjoyable moments in this record, which you just can't help to vibe to. i guess this one is a good okay.

top 3 tracks: ascencion, peace, something will happen

the flops ⬇

woman's world - katy perry (🎵)

bit disappointing that the long-awaited return of the once pop legend that gave us some of the biggest pop anthems is a vague attempt at a feminist anthem. the biggest irony is that she partnered with known abuser dr. luke in what seems like a desperate attempt for a new no. 1 single. by the looks of it, this upcoming era promises to be another miss.

[al-mayriti]

my besties eurovisionspain just made this article about 12 artists that could be great choices for next year benidorm fest so i had to talk about them!!! here's the full article but i'll go over the artists / groups for all of you who don't speak spanish plus give my little opinion :)

(the links in the artists' name will go to the song the eurovisionspain team selected to be a showcase of them, so think of them as how a benifest entry for them could be like)

delaporte: delaporte is a duo formed by spaniard sandra delaporte and italian sergio salvi known for being one of the biggest electronic pop bands right now. i actually know them through their project titanas, made to celebrate female voices in the spanish music industry; my personal favourite of them is clap clap, their collab with anaju.

arde bogotá: arde bogotá is an indie rock band formed in cartagena (murcia) in 2017 by antonio garcía, dani sánchez, pepe esteban, and josé ángel mercader, known for the characteristic voice of their vocalist. i've actually been listening to their song antiaéreo for a while now, so i'm glad they're on this list!!! also i love how hard los perros (the song linked under the name) goes !!!

julieta: julieta is a pop and urban artist that sings in both catalan and spanish that goes from pop to reggaeton to house. i had not listened to anything from her but i knew her and i knew she was a girlie i should be on the lookout for. also y'all know how much i love when artists sing in another language that isn't spanish or english so !!!!!

GOMZ: GOMZ, whose real name is raúl gómez, is an indie electropop artist who first rose to fame (I KNEW I KNEW HIM) when he composed tu canción, the song that represented spain in esc 2018. his song sounds nice !!!

judeline: judeline was born in cádiz, and with only 20 years old, she's one of the biggest newcomers to the spanish urban scene. just as with julieta, tho i hadn't listened to any of her songs i knew who she was and yeah, this girl is gonna go far for sure !!!!

joe crepúsculo: NOT JOE CREPÚSCULO 😭😭😭 he's a well established indie pop / electronic artist known for his dance anthems and irreverent attitude. y'all i've seen this man live without knowing who he was and he knows how to give a show that's for sure. he's just a weird little man, just an absolute sicko.

fillas de cassandra: they're a female duo from vigo formed of maria SOA and sara faro who fuse galician oral tradition and modern sounds with a feminism focus on all her songs. i actually have listened to them before, specifically to their song lisistrata (PLEASE LISTEN TO IT AND WATCH THE MV IT'S GREAT), and after learning a bit more about them i might be a bit obsessed with them??? like just from their name ('daughters of cassandra'), their themes and sound, the fact that most of their songs titles reference greek mythology, and how much i loved tataravoa (the linked song, means 'great-grandmother' in galician) that i instantly put it in my playlist... also galician !!!!!!

bajocero x: bajocero x is the stage name of madrid-born daniel lópez, a newcomer to the urban pop scene who actually was a reserve artist in the previous benidorm fest! i like his sound he has potential!

SAMURAÏ: I CAN'T BELIEVE SAMU IS HERE LET'S GOOOO. samuraï is the stage named of aroa, also from madrid, an indie pop-rock artist with a very strong visual and vocal presence. GUYS YOU DON'T UNDERSTADN I'M OBSESSED WITH HER. like i've listened to all her songs so many times she's one of my biggest discoveries of 2023 if not the best i am so in love with her it isn't even funny. her last ep called artillería is so good and it also follows a theme in the naming of the songs which i love so so very much !!!!!! i'm struggling to pick only one song of hers to show to y'all (the linked song is very good btw one of my faves), so i'll give you three: the first song of hers i listened to, her collab with la la love you, and imo her best song in the last ep.

KAI NAKAI: kai nakai is the stage name of iratxe aguilera, a basque singer from gasteiz that does feminist urban music in basque language (euskera). i didn't know her and !!!!!! i do love me some minority language in a popular genre honestly

dulzaro: he's an artist from valladolid who fuses traditional castilian-leonese sounds like jotas, charros and corridos, with traditional instruments like cucharas, panderetas, panderos and botellas de anís, and modern sounds and mixes, to make a quite unique sound. i didn't know him but now i love him so much holy shit !!!! just look at the link and that music video!!!! it's chock full of castilian folklore and traditions and even the town screams castilla y león like it's so fucking perfect!!! and it's a jota !!!!!! oh how i would love this to go to eurovision fuck i know it'd have the same placement as eaea but i don't care this shit is so fucking good.

maría peláe: OH I LOVE HER. maría peláe, born in málaga, is probably one of the new generation of folclóricas [flamenco personalities] in the country, with flamenco full of social messages and almost an agressiveness to it. SHE'S AN ICON she's so funny and sassy and EVERYTHING!!! i love her song por si te vas so much (the music video for it is so good actually) but i might love el grillo (the linked song) even more like it has sooo much lola flores (the greatest flamenco artist ever) energy!!!!! i absolutely adore her

GUITARRICADELAFUENTE: MY MAN. born in aragón, he is a singer songwriter known for his unique sound and his traditional sounds - always with a guitar at the center, that combine rumba, flamenco and indie sounds. he's actually so good it's actually criminal he hasn't gone to benidorm fest. also i'm contractually obligated to link the song that made me discovered him because that song changed the course of my life, nana triste; but also his most known song that actually was who made him known to the public is guantanamera, a version of a traditional havanera that's almost become a classic here. also that mv is how i imagine paradise (it's the town where his grandma lives i think, in aragón).

[beatverse1]

Breaking Into the Indian Music Scene with YouTube Music

The Indian music industry is experiencing a renaissance, fueled by the surge of digital platforms that make it easier for artists to connect with their audiences. At the forefront of this revolution is YouTube Music, a platform that has become synonymous with music discovery, streaming, and artist growth. For artists looking to leave a lasting mark on the Indian music scene, releasing your music on YouTube Music in India offers unprecedented opportunities. Whether you're an emerging indie artist or an established musician exploring new avenues, this guide will show you how to leverage YouTube Music for your career.

The Rise of YouTube Music in India

India's music consumption patterns have shifted dramatically with the rise of streaming platforms, and YouTube Music has carved a niche as one of the leading options. Its integration with YouTube, one of the most-used platforms in the country, gives it a unique edge. For artists, it’s not just about uploading music; it’s about being part of a platform that boasts millions of active listeners. This reach extends beyond geographical boundaries, providing artists with an opportunity to connect with fans worldwide.

Moreover, YouTube Music allows artists to showcase their versatility. From audio-only tracks to lyric videos and full-blown music videos, the platform caters to various creative expressions. This versatility is particularly important in India, where regional diversity plays a significant role in audience preferences. Releasing your music on YouTube Music in India means you can cater to a specific audience or appeal to a broader demographic by incorporating diverse elements into your content.

Creating a Buzz Around Your Release

In the competitive world of music, simply uploading your track isn’t enough. You need to create anticipation and excitement before your release. Start by announcing your upcoming project on social media, sharing behind-the-scenes snippets, or dropping teasers to build curiosity. Collaborating with influencers or engaging with your audience directly through Q&A sessions can also generate interest.

Using YouTube’s features, such as Premieres, adds a sense of exclusivity and urgency to your release. When your audience knows they can be part of a "first listen" event, they’re more likely to engage and share. Releasing your music on YouTube Music in India becomes even more impactful when you capitalize on these features to maximize visibility and fan interaction.

Building Your Brand

A strong personal brand is essential for artists looking to stand out. YouTube Music offers tools to help you build and maintain this brand effectively. Your artist profile becomes your digital storefront, so ensure it is professional, engaging, and authentic. Upload high-quality album art, use consistent branding across videos, and write compelling descriptions that reflect your artistic identity.

One major advantage of YouTube Music in India is the ability to interact with your fans directly. Use the community tab on YouTube to share updates, connect with fans, and maintain a steady presence even between releases. This level of engagement not only strengthens your relationship with existing fans but also attracts new listeners who resonate with your content and persona.

Collaboration Opportunities

Collaborations can significantly expand your reach, and YouTube Music in India provides an ideal platform for such ventures. Collaborating with other artists allows you to tap into their fan base while introducing your style to a broader audience. Consider working with musicians in similar genres or even stepping out of your comfort zone to experiment with new sounds.

Regional collaborations are particularly effective in India, where music preferences often vary based on language and culture. By collaborating with regional artists, you can expand your audience while showcasing your versatility as a musician. Feature these collaborations prominently on YouTube Music, creating content that celebrates the fusion of different styles and influences.

Expanding Your Presence

While focusing on the Indian market is important, YouTube Music also allows you to expand your presence internationally. With its extensive analytics tools, you can track where your listeners are located and tailor your promotions accordingly. This data-driven approach helps you identify untapped markets and build a global fan base.

Promoting your music on YouTube Music doesn’t stop with the platform itself. Share your releases across social media channels, use YouTube ads to target specific audiences, and encourage fans to create user-generated content like dance videos or covers. These strategies amplify your reach and keep your music trending across platforms.

Conclusion

Breaking into the Indian music scene has never been more accessible, thanks to platforms like YouTube Music. By strategically leveraging its tools and features, you can connect with millions of listeners, build a loyal fan base, and elevate your career to new heights. Whether it’s through pre-release marketing, impactful branding, or regional collaborations, the opportunities are endless.

Releasing your music on YouTube Music in India isn’t just a milestone—it’s a launchpad for greater success. Embrace the platform, engage with your audience, and let your music resonate far and wide. Your journey to becoming a household name starts now. Are you ready to make your mark?

Related Articles:

For further reading, explore these related articles:

Release your music on YouTube on multiple platforms

Release your music on YouTube to get paid

Release your music on YouTube to get exposure

Release your music on YouTube Music for free

For additional resources on music marketing and distribution, visit Deliver My Tune.

[chloroform-e]

2023 musical discoveries

What I'm grateful for :

Songs

Something to believe (Weyes Blood) : I feel something akin to wonder that this song found me when I needed it, just like Pony Pony Run Run sang about : just a song missing inside you. It's not even the words, really (although I want to start saying "the waters don't really go by me" to every how are you), but mainly the way Weyes Blood sings the chorus. It unlocks a mix of hope and sadness that I find weirdly comforting.

No Woman (Whitney) : Phoenix (maybe my favourite band ever) covered this song years ago, but I never paid attention to it until last summer. I was in a folksy mood and something clicked. There are a dozen tiny moments in this perfect song that make me so happy, that make me want to twirl my arms and dance in the street on my way to work. I focus a lot on lyrics when listening to music, but what moves me the most here are the instrumental phases : the drums and guitar kicking in after "I'm not ready to turn", the guitar solo toward the end.

Artists

Waxahatchee : I first got to know her music through her covers and collabs (the Plains record is brilliant), and I'm still getting into her entire catalog. I'm so glad I discovered Saint Cloud in July (I say "perfect album" a lot, but this one really really deserves it), and that I have all of her records to go through, little by little (and perhaps new music in 2024 ?).

Nation of Language : of course I had to end with them. I still get teary-eyed when watching clips from their live shows on Instagram, wishing I were there. It feels like their songs were made in a lab for me : music that I can dance to, that can make me cry. A song like Sightseer encapsulates all that I love about new-wave : how it's yearning and melancholic, cold and dancing.

[marvelmusing]

Billy Russo Masterlist

Last Updated: 22/07/22

My Masterlist

»»---------------------►

SERIES

Introductions • Part 1 • Part 2

Your colleague Dinah suggests a training session at a private firm - Anvil - and you meet the company’s charming CEO.

Love and War • Part 1 • Part 2

You are tasked with eliminating two dangerous fugitives. When the time comes, will you be able to finish the job?

Love Languages • Part 1 • Part 2

A series based on the five love languages, and how each one applies to your relationship with Billy.

Disastrous Dalmatian’s • Part 1 • Part 2

A 101 Dalmatians inspired meet cute. When your dog Pongo falls for a random Dalmatian in Regent’s Park you become acquainted with her owner, Billy Russo.

Guilty of Love • Season 1 • Season 2 • Season 3

When the wanted vigilante Billy Russo turns up in your house one night, you’re expecting a fight. After all, you’re the one tasked with bringing him in. What you’re not expecting is for him to be making you dinner. Things only become more and more unexpected from that moment on.

White Picket Fence • Masterlist

Billy and you have to go undercover as a newly married couple in the suburbs, and you’re certain your house is bugged so it’s 24/7 of you two acting like a married couple.

Trials & Tribulations

Also known as The Trials & Tribulations of Billy’s Long Suffering Marketing Director - a social media AU, featuring CEO!Billy Russo.

Don’t Blame Me • Part 1 • Part 2 • Drabble

You’re the only one who will love and appreciate Billy exactly the way he is, and you will do anything to prove that to him - even if that means keeping him locked up in your spare room.

The Chelsea & Jess Dumb!Reader Universe Collab

His Best Kept Secret • Duplicate ��� Ineptitude • Off to the Races •

In the Dark • Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3

You wake in a strange bed, in a strange room, and are startled to find a pair of dark eyes watching you. Featuring dark elf!Billy.

The Other Side • Masterlist

After the events of The Punisher (season one) Billy Russo stakes his claim on New York, quickly establishing himself as a force to be reckoned with amongst the city’s criminal underworld. When you get assigned to an undercover operation that seeks to take down Russo, a conflict of interest occurs. You may or may not be falling for him?

Building Blocks & Daisy Chains • Coffee & Collisions

Whilst babysitting your nephew in the park, you bump into Karen, a friend of yours, and she introduces you to Billy Russo.

Puzzle Pieces • Part 1 • Part 2

Frank and Billy took down Rawlins together but now you all have to deal with the aftermath. Billy’s mind is more fractured than the scars on his face, and the pieces of your own life are crumbling under the weight. Will the two of you ever assemble the jigsaw?

ONESHOTS

NSFW Alphabet

Comfort Character

Billy comes to your apartment in need of some TLC.

His Smile

Agent Madani expresses too much interest in your boyfriend for your liking. Billy unknowingly provides you with a reminder that he’s yours.

Good Boy [18+]

You make a discovery about your boyfriend, Billy Russo.

Partition [18+]

You and Billy have some fun in the car on the way home from a gala.

Sweetness

Billy Russo loves all things sweet, but you take up a particular spot in his heart.

Valentine’s Day

You and Billy both plan some last minute surprises for your first Valentine’s Day together.

Waiting

You’ll always wait for Billy, and he’ll always come home to you.

Barber Shop

You give Billy’s beard a trim, giving him the opportunity to think over how lucky he is to have you.

Birthday Boy

You plan to give Billy the best birthday ever.

Doodles

As Billy’s assistant, you sit in on client meetings with him, and this afternoon is particularly boring for you both.

Surprise [18+]

You have a surprise for Billy, which he discovers sooner than you had anticipated.

Hunted [18+]

As part of a training exercise with Anvil, you’re tasked with remaining hidden in the city for an entire week. When Billy tracks you down on the last night he decides to teach you a lesson.

New Tie [18+]

You buy Billy a special gift to show him who he belongs to.

Imagine [18+]

You ask your one of your friends, Billy Russo, to take your virginity. Billy is more than happy to oblige.

Crosshairs [18+]

After a few months of stalking Billy, you make the decision to curb your obsession, believing that he deserves better than you. Billy doesn’t agree.

A Little Revenge [18+]

Operation Cerberus was covered up, leaving Billy and the rest of his unit with blood on their hands and no place in the world. You decide to give a little power back to Billy.

Early Morning

After a hard week at work, you’re exhausted, and Billy insists you take a break.

Rescue Mission

During a disastrous blind date you reach out to your best friend Billy, and he offers to come to your rescue.

Bonded [18+]

The hunting season begins and Billy tracks down his future mate.

Fresh Ink

After having a few friends around for drinks at your apartment, you and Billy have a talk about his tattoos.

Monthly Comfort

You’re on your period, and Billy wants nothing more than to make you feel better.

A Night Out [18+]

Vampire!Billy takes you to a local feeding club, and you let him drink from you.

Back in Time

With you by his side, Billy returns to the fire station in Albany where his mom left him as a baby.

Shower Thoughts

The past comes back to haunt you and Billy during your holiday, and the following altercation takes a toll on Billy.

Distracted [18+]

You become a distraction when Billy is attempting to finish his work for the night.

Balance Between Forces

A Star Wars AU. You can’t explain the pull you feel towards the Sith Lord, Darth Russoti. No matter where he is, you can always find him.

Hair Salon

You have a short haircut and you decide to recreate the famous Russo slicked back look with your own hair.

Experiment [18+]

You ask to try something new with Billy.

Perfect Remedy [18+]

Billy has had a long day at work, luckily he knows exactly what he needs to de-stress - and it starts with you on your knees.

Sleeping Beauty [18+]

After a long week, Billy decides to take care of you while you sleep.

Rough Day [18+]

After a long day at work, you know exactly what Billy needs to relax.

Gonna Find You

Your husband has been kidnapped, and you plan to find him yourself.

Never Hurts to Dream

Featuring Singer!Reader. Lisa deems Billy her ‘cool uncle’ meaning that he’s the only adult allowed to take her and her friends to their first concert.

New Year Celebrations

How you spend New Year's eve with Billy.

Blood in the Water

When Billy goes to get the paperwork for your new life together, Agent Madani pays you a visit.

Take Over

It’s fair to say that the Russo case has taken over your life. But maybe you’re okay with that.

Twisted Games

Billy loves to play games, and with his advantages as a vampire, he always wins.

A Marriage of Sins [18+]

When you hear of a demon living in an abandoned church in the woods, you know you need to investigate. But how could you know that the demon was just your soulmate waiting to marry you?

The Twins • Reinforcements

Featuring William ‘Billy’ Russo & Jonathan ‘Jonny’ Russo the co-CEOs of Anvil Security.

Misbehaviour [18+]

Billy takes you to one of his favourite restaurants, but you can’t seem to behave how he wants you to.

DRABBLES

Cam Boy!Billy

God of Love!Billy

FU in my Head

Personal Trainer!Billy

Mamma Mia AU

Single Dad CEO!Billy

His Dark Materials AU

Vampire!Billy

Scream AU

Sleeping with a Ghost

MOODBOARDS

Moodboard Masterlist here

[bitchlessdino]

Alien Remnants in Society: Lee Jung Chan Findings

Pairing: astrology major!Chan x genderless alien!reader

Genre: suggestive, fluff, humor

Word count: 2.7k

Tags: suggestive language, astronomy major!chan, genderless ace-presenting alien!reader, lowkey stalker chan, prodigy!chan, horny!chan, fellow alien enthusiast!vernon (Hansol), aggressive!reader, mentions of blood, strangulation

author note: this is different from what I normally do so I have my reservations about it, but either way I hope yall enjoy it and enjoy the rest of the collab of @svthub's SPOOKTEEN in this link

Lee Chan is a smart kid. He’s one of the top students in his assigned major, performing above expectancy levels in his other classes, and got into his university with a full scholarship with a 1600 SAT score. This guy is absolutely gifted, but what does he focus all his free time on? Aliens.

Every genius has a quirk. For Chan, it was aliens.

When he was 8 years old, somehow studying and comprehending the second law of thermodynamics and being entertained by the likes of his beloved Jurassic World legos, his interest in the wonders of otherworldly beings was piqued when his normal SpongeBob program was interrupted by the local news reports of crop circles and their relevance to the existence of aliens.

This kid is a prodigy, he was still convinced Santa existed, but a prodigy. How could he be convinced by measly crop circles you may wonder. He wasn’t, but when he’d ask his parents or locals about the ideas of aliens, ideas and theories were blurred, making the boy decide to investigate himself. Every interview, every textbook definition, every historical recording, he’s put in a journal which he called ‘Lee Jung Chan Findings.’

Now he’s 20-something following a peer and suspecting finally, at last finally, that they are not who they say they are, but in fact, an unearthly life form and he was going to prove it.

It started with some mild stalking, which in his defense was an…idea at the time, not a good one but an idea (he has no idea how has yet to be arrested), and he’d observe what set you off from the rest. Some of his notes recorded the following:

‘Doesn’t take advantage of the school cafeteria,’

Or, 

‘Makes minimal to no sound, possibly to avoid attention,’

Or even the more ridiculous,

‘Avoids Taylor Swift music like the plague. Who doesn’t like Taylor Swift?’

Chan, himself, could feel his sanity slowly depleting, running on months’ worth of time into his research, having his notes looked over with fellow Alien enthusiast Hansol from the music production department that he met through his historical literature class. He could even feel the skepticism from a believer as big as he is, and Hansol is getting a low bearing D in Anthropology. And listens to Drake unironically.

“Are these a bit of a stretch? I didn’t see how any of these would point them out to be extraterrestrial.”

Chan could understand where his friend was coming from, but what more could he provide? All he knew was you showed up one day on campus and you were not like any student that he’s met or observed before. He prides himself in having a keen sense of people and their behaviors. You didn’t seem to line up close with anyone in his experience, which intrigued him. Your presence just made you seem like you were made to, well, exist and fade into the background.

Chan noticed you though. He sees all.

He'd be lying if he said there wasn’t a time he thought of giving up. His research was already reaching the length of a year, to his standards long considering he grasped the concept of astrophysics statistics in a week. He felt discouraged, he was feeling wronged. It was as if the world was against him and wanted to see his dreams die.

Calm down, Macbeth. Save it for Halloween.

However, as if someone heard his agnostic prayers, he stumbles upon a sudden breakthrough. The strangest discovery thing yet. Upon following you out of the library like he does every Thursday night, he loses you almost immediately, initially unfortunate, but loses himself on campus. The lights that typically stood tall and bright blew out, causing a surge of mystery in what he couldn’t see.

There was one lone light left, standing the brightest, the tallest of any star in the sky. He stands right underneath it, comforted by its glow until he hears it shatter, explode actually. The light of the pole not only goes out but shards of glass fall from right above him, making him instinctively pull away from its perimeter but unable to leave unscathed.

He touches his cheek up inspection, using the flashlight on his phone to detect blood, concluding a cut on his cheek. “What the fuc–”

He uses the sleeve of his crew neck to hold down the spill, in doing so he detects a low but distinct hum. His sensitive ears start to pick up its resonance and the little scientist in him decides to follow it. It grows louder and more apparent in the darkest alley of the college town but tonight a light glow emulates in place of its usual pitch black. 

He treads lightly, seeing a figure with what looks like its arm in the air, sporadically shaking in a constant and repetitive motion. What looks to be the elbow part of theirs is bent, armpit glow, the most insane thing he ever witnessed in real life. Still clutching his cheek, Chan pulls out his phone from his front pocket, pressing buttons single-handedly to get on his camera. He begins videotaping the event, making sure the image is clear and focused, stepping just a little closer until his foot hits a hard lump on the ground. He stumbles to grip his phone and fails when it drops right beneath his feet but it's too late.

Your head snaps towards him and in a blink of an eye, your hands are around his neck threateningly as he’s flat on his back on the ground. Your finger presses in the vital parameters of his neck, squeezing with only enough space for a single breath. Your knees barriers between one of his legs as your torso towering over him, your eyes dark and stoic, like ones of a cold-blooded murderer.

He put his hands up defensively, “L-let’s not get hasty here.”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t eliminate you.”

He realizes this is the first time heard your voice. Your smooth yet calming, what he imagines one of that help sleep audio tapes would sound like. Your face, still emitting that strange glow, flawless up close and personal. He already knew you were physically aesthetic to look at but, with his view, his human instincts naturally come out, feeling a stiff discomfort in his thick denim bottoms. Never in his life did he think being held on the ground by his neck, threatened by a nonhuman creature to get his life force taken out of him would make him so, for lack of better less crude words, horny. This probably was something he should think to bring up with his therapist.

“Now, I completely understand where you’re coming from, you have every right to be mad, but this would be a very big mistake if you were to kill me. I’ll explain why–”

“You, measly human, have been stalking me for an earth year—”

“M-measly?” he stutters.

“You are violating what your people call, ‘right to privacy,’ and make it a point to disrupt each and every one of my environmental studies. I can easily evaporate you. Give me reasons why I shouldn’t.” There has been yet a shift in your tone or eyes, and despite that, your words, mainlines in his body like an IV, leading the blood straight to the least helpful body part at the moment. 

Why couldn’t this have happened during prom night when Chae offered to be his ‘first’ in Mingyu’s van?

“I mean you absolutely no harm! In fact, I admire you. Your presence. Your existence is an incredible personal and scientific discovery–”

“Flattery is an earthy construct to reinforce wants and desired results, your poor attempt at such gives you a disadvantage in this case.”

“I simply want to understand your…people? Your culture, your way of life. I am nothing but a man of discovery…and my word. So, in exchange for letting me live and perhaps, study you–”

“I believe other humans use the phrase, ‘fat chance.’ This is that.”

“You can study me!” he exclaims. “I give you anatomical permission!”

You cock your head. “Why would that interest me?”

Despite being in a near-death situation, his slight narcissism still comes through. “Well, not to toot my own horn, but I am somewhat of a genius by Earthly standards here. I would provide you valuable insight and information.”

“I read that be unlikely.”

“Would it not prevalent to understand the human mind as you ask me, a human, questions?”

You pause, actually considering it, and your grip loosens around his throat. It makes Chan both relieved yet slightly disappointed, for reasons he’ll never understand. You look back at him in wonder, only blinking blankly at him before commenting.

“You are…peculiar.”

“That’s what I'm saying!” Chan agrees proudly.

And with that, you are somehow convinced to let him live. Not getting into why, but he was an interesting pick, and the next day you’re in his dorm room in front of those outdated human cameras that never have nearly enough tape to record something important. Emotions for you did not come out the same way as a human does but annoyance was becoming more than a recurring response. Chan currently being the main source of that irritability right now.

“So, first off. Where do you come from?” Smiling from ear to ear, he is ecstatic to interview his first report of an alien.

“A place unknown far from where you reside. It’s a destination no currently advanced human technology could possibly reach.”

Chan takes a beat to scribble that in his notes. “Great…how did you travel to Earth?”

You blink. “If I answer that imposition, you must be prepared for deat–”

“Okay, touchy subject,” he chuckles nervously, “Skipping. Next Question, um, what brings you to our planet?”

Your silence is worth a thousand words, only giving him that menacing glare you had when your hands were around his throat. He instinctively places his hand against his neck, the sensation of your alien grippers lingering on him. That’s right, he almost died, but why was that thrilling?

“Okay, same response as the previous question. Now, Taylor Swift. Good or bad—“

“How do these questions bring worth to your research?”

He ponders. “Well, they give an idea of the qualities of life forms outside the human’s existence. There’s hardly ever an opportunity for us to interview an extraterrestrial being such as yourself.”

“And you believe whether or not I partake interest in what you call ‘music’ here revolutionary information?”

He shrugs, seeing your point, “It’d be interesting in my research to get opinions of observations you’ve made appointing yourself as a resident here. You’ve taken place on this Earth as human for years. You’re bound to have gained some personal biases…So Taylor Swift?”

“...It interferes with my communications.” You answer plainly.

“She is an international treasure. Anyways. Communications. Is that what you were doing when I found you last night?”

“The actions I partook was a form of communication, yes, however it is to a farther receiver that does not currently locate where I am now.”

“You mean your overlords?”

You roll your eyes, the first almost humanistic action you made today. “...sure.”

“I’m kidding, but about the comms. What makes you flapping your elbow, and the ultra-bright armpit, or whatever is your alien counterpart to the name, It’s a way of communicating? Are your bodies born with communicators or was something implemented into your body in order for that to happen?”

“Once again, that information is classified.”

“Okay, but the glowing armpit. What’s that about?’

The interview drowns for about an hour and you feel the human urge to sleep, which was rare since your species does not require as much as your counterpart does. The questions fall into the category of ones that could be answered and ones that could have Chan disintegrated, and he reaches his final ones, his rather important ones.

“Does your species believe in love?” he asks with a glint of hope in his eyes.

“We believe in the construct of building strong soldiers, leaders, and world builders. And by doing so we mate and use monogamous bonds to produce strong offspring and prevent unfavorable ones. Some are evolved enough to reproduce asexually and create a variation of their person that would do good for our society.”

That answer stuns him, quite a culture shock if he was honest, and he saw the muppet movie.

“...but love? Don’t any of you create bonds out of romantic intention?”

“Romance is a human concept that is, ironically, overromanticized to the point that your people are desperate enough to depend on technology to provide you a potential mate. My people have come far to realize we are our own people and reproduction is clearly recreational. There have been some cases where ‘intimate bonds’ are formed, but they are rare. Most of what my planet values are knowledge and sustenance. It’s what keeps my people alive.”

“So then the sex, mating you call it, is it not pleasurable as humans can perceive it to be?”

“Our pleasure receptors are not as sensitive or necessary as humans. It does not serve all the same purposes as it would for you.”

Chan hums, jotting that down, and pauses, glancing you up and down, before he proceeds with the next question. “Have you personally experienced…it?”

“Mating?”

“...yes.” a tinge of pink creeps up on his cheeks.

“I have yet to. My current tasks take precedence before I can move on to partaking in a career in reproduction if I decide to do so.”

His eyes shot open. “C-career?”

“Are we done here, tiny Earthling?” You blink at him blankly.

“Tiny–Sure we can stop for today. We can proceed with more tomorrow.”

“More,” you repeat, “what other information possibly desire?”

“Just,” he softly coughs, shutting down his camera, “other things. Meanwhile, we can get on with your study, if you want.”

“I’ve noted all I needed in my internal archive,” you respond standing up from your seat.

“Oh yeah, like what,” he smiles, curious.

You approach him at a steady pace, leveling with his gaze, and peering at him as his breath drew out of him reluctantly. It was much closer a distance than the one last night and in a much brighter setting. He's startled by the tension in your eyes, gripping the desk behind him for comfort, maybe restraint even.

“You have an escalated image of yourself and falter when I do anything to undermine that.”

“I’d think that's a natural response–”

“A lot of humans are more humble. Have a sense of shame. Not you. You do admittedly have higher level attention of most but lack the emotional intelligence.”

“Wh–rude.”

“And,” your arms border his sides, just hardly grazing his arm hairs on the desk, “You exhibit blood to your facial epidermis, an accelerating heartbeat, and perspiration, an abundance in fact, while in my presence.”

He grips harder against the wood, rapidly blinking his eyes, and sucking in his gut to minimalize physical contact.

“...You are an alien that tried to kill me.” He points out matter of factly.

“You use humor as filler, but your heart just accelerated by 20 beats per minute…I trigger your human nervous system. Why?”

Why was that? Because he expected a Simpson’s rendition of a foreign life form, not you. He may have known you to be wearing your human skin suit, something that should’ve set more flashing red warning signs than it actually did, but all he could feel was a gravitational pull towards you, something much more complicated than he could’ve ever explained.

“Like I said. You almost killed me.”

Your gaze drops down, letting Chan do the same, both pairs of eyes locked on the raging erection in his pants. His hands immediately shoot covering it, “Fear is an elevated study of arousal! It’s backed by science.”

“If your cerebral cortex is projecting that idea, okay.” You back off of him, picking up your own items with intention of leaving. “I would like to interject. I am not clear why you chose to dissect me when you are so close with my comrade.”

He squints, his arouse state faltering in a matter of seconds, confusion in his place. “What? Who?”

“He is the specimen with a human-made tablet in his hand wherever he goes. The goal was for him to make himself inconspicuous in the human eyes, but he discovered your people’s ‘Netflix’ and has been utilizing it non-stop.”

Chan’s eyes shot open again for the umpteen time. “HANSOL?!”

[dourpeep]

The Chalk Prince

Summary: Between the lines of his existence, lies a story. But above all, Albedo is most thankful that he has found his happily ever after. Contains: Albedo x gn!Reader, fluff, papa Albedo A/Note: for @xiaosmoon Valentine's Day collab, day 21, "kissing them while they're asleep." I had a lot of fun thinking of what to write for this, but the idea of making it like one of those fairytale kisses where the prince kisses their fated lover and everything just suddenly seems to be good won out-

Long before the Mondstadt of today existed, there was once a lonely boy whose eyes shone of seaglass and had hair spun of the finest flaxen thread. Born of the earth and the dreams of a lost nation, he set out with his master, his mother and creator to discover more about life.

He was little more than a child then, unsure of the world and its secrets, eager to discover more but every new experience making him cower. Yet with this apprehension, he took each step in calculated pride.

‘The true nature of this land will unfold as you move on, ■■■■■■.’

He didn’t quite understand what it was she meant at the time, instead offering a wide-eyed look and the nod of his head.

The art of creation and the transmutation of the world surrounding.

To be able to take something—a dying branch from a tree, a delicate butterfly—and transform it into something entirely new. An opportunity to take what little life gives and make it into something more.

So the boy dove into his studies, to his master’s delight

With every new discovery shutting away the loneliness, the boy bloomed and grew in skill and curiosity.

There was a time, long after he first was created, that he and his master set foot on the grounds of a great mountain shrouded in chilling winds and ice. ‘A promise.’ She said, staring out at the bleak landscape as he leafed through the few notes he took. She told him, that day on the mountain, that she knew he would achieve more than he could imagine.

-

Albedo’s thoughts were taken the moment his pen plucked from his grasp.

“What’s today’s date?”

His brow creases, lip turning down into a small frown. Surely, it hasn’t been that long since? Between his research and side project, he’s ensured to keep track of his meals, breaks, as well as any notable events.

So, he answers, only to be met with a tap to his nose and an exasperated sigh from his lover.

“You’ve been here since Tuesday, Bedo—it’s Friday morning, come home and rest, please?” You press a kiss to his temple, smoothing out a few stray hairs. They stick right back up. “You’ve done enough work to last a whole month, at least.”

…Perhaps those few power naps he took weren’t naps after all.

“Papa!!”

Upon his return home, a little voice speaks up.

Bright and just as interested in Teyvat as Albedo himself. Colm tugs on his father’s coat, prodding at him with questions about some weed picked out from between the stones of the cobbled road, asking him if he liked the cream cake you slipped him between experiments. Each little inquiry was met with a smile and finally followed by the gentle pressure of his lips to his child’s forehead.

“Mm, yes, the cake was just as delicious as you said it’d be.” To his delight, there was another piece tucked away safe for later.

“We can share!”

But, as all things tend to be, there was a time and a place for everything.

The little pout of Colm’s lip tugs at his heart, Albedo’s resolve only crumbling a bit before he shakes his head. He soothes it by hugging him tightly.

“How about we share it tomorrow for breakfast? Then we can start the day off properly.”

The bribe seems to work well enough, so long as he tells a story before bed.

Nighttime routines seem to go by quick. Teeth brushed, pajamas on, and worn rabbit tucked in beside his son, Albedo finally sits on the edge of the bed. Twin eyes of brilliant green stare back at him.

And with that, Albedo tells his story.

By the time he has fallen asleep, the moon peeks above the rooftops. With Mond quiet for the night, all that’s left is a last second check of the locks before bed. They secure with a click, gently illuminated by candlelight.

With a single exhale the light is extinguished, dousing the house in the dark.

-

You look so peaceful, near ethereal with the moonlight shining through the thin curtains and illuminating your face in a gentle light.

But Albedo couldn’t seem to bring himself to move closer. After all, this is the kind of thing that princes do—rescuing their fated lover from an indefinite sleep, braving the dangers to risk it all in the name of a love that they’ve never known before, the pursuit of a happy end.

Not him, aside from his namesake, not an alchemist from the city of Freedom.

His mind drifts back to that half-written draft.

It isn’t until after a moment longer of watching you sleep at peace that he leans in.

Lips touch in the gentlest brush, savoring the softness of yours, the familiar feeling. In his chest he can feel the way his heart flutters and rejoices. He finds himself retreating all too soon. Through half-lidded eyes, Albedo takes in the sight of you, your lips parted gently and features soft, serene.

You lay still. With every breath, your chest rises and falls, a steady rhythm.

“Hm.”

He shifts, careful as he adjusts his position until he has you snugly in his arms.

Though his life is nothing like the fairy tales that he tells his son, Albedo rests peacefully with the fact that he has found his happy ending.

[provisionalsparkle]

The Boy Next Door

Reader x Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

[Genre] exes-to-lovers au, smut, angst.

[Word count] 6.7K

[Warnings] Smut. Angst. Unprotected sex, voyeurism, ample description of bodily fluids.

[Note] This is my contribution to @feliix ’s Summer 2 Lovers collab! Check it out!

Summer.

The season of fun and sun, careless joy, long days and warm nights…

For most people.

For you, this summer is about change. It’s about the little town you used to live in, the quaint house you grew up in, the smell of your mother’s cooking or the breeze from the yard, the sound of younger kids playing in the street. It’s about the big city you will go to live in, it’s purple and orange twilight skies, black silhouettes reaching toward the skies beginning to twinkle with golden lights, the noises of the traffic coming from evening bustle, the scent of the delis and restaurants that line the streets.

You were stuck between these two places, university having been a four year long limbo of boundless sex mislabeled as self-discovery, and now visit your home one last time, reminding yourself of the life you had there before moving on to another.

You think of the past with nostalgia, yet also with a restlessness that makes you want to run from everything. The stillness, the silence, the unchanging landscape in this little town is too unbearable, too unsettling. But it’s familiar, and it’s comfortable. The life you’ll soon live promises excitement, autonomy, it’s the adulthood you’ve fantasized about. It terrifies you too, and you have these horrible dreams about missing the payment of the most insignificant bill and having the entire world collapse on you because of it. You still don’t know how to do your taxes.

College is over, a new life awaits you in a big city after landing a rather ideal job, but it felt like you were leaving things behind. Funny how, after so many years of fantasizing about this grown-up life you suddenly felt like a lost child, scared to forgo the familiar.

It’s these sort of almost-quarter-life-crisis thoughts that fill your mind on a particularly warm afternoon. You’re indecently splayed out on a couch with as little clothing as possible, the door to the backyard is wide open, letting an occasional breeze waft in to disrupt the stifling stillness of the heat. The lights are off, and you were too unbothered to turn them on as the sun set, preferring to stare at a darkening ceiling as the evening sky turned purple.

There’s a familiar jingle of keys from the front door.

“Honey? You home?”

“I’m here, Mom.” You lazily answer back. She wanders from the hall to the living room, you can feel the judgemental look she gives you.

“Have you been laying like this all day?”, indignation lines her voice. Was it so surprising to find you like this?

“Yeah…”

“You can’t just lay here all day. Go out! Get some sun! Go play with those kids you used to hang out with from school!”

“I can’t Ma, I’d rather just plank here.”

“Oh goodness, Y/n. Give me one good reason you shouldn’t go hang out with them!”

“I’ll give you two: either they grew up to be total bitches or they had kids and became a bore.”

“I didn’t become a bore when I had you!” She exclaims, although it’s not too serious and some playfulness hides beneath the surface.

“Yeah, that’s because you’re a cool mom. They don’t make those anymore.”

“Hmm… well, I think you should make a bit of an effort.”

“Mom… it’s my last vacation you know -”

“You know what?!” She suddenly exclaims, her voice brightening like a lightbulb just radiated in her thoughts. “Mrs. Carson’s son is here with her for the summer too! I bet you haven’t seen him in ages, and he’s gotten so handsome.”

“Mrs. Carson?” You didn’t have any clue who that was.

“Well… you might remember her as Mrs. Bang, but Jane changed her name when she married Norbert a few years ago. She still lives next door and Christopher’s in town spending the summer with his mother.”

Bang…

Christopher…

You hadn’t heard that name in years. It surprised you a bit actually, and a hint of a smile came to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, Mom… I’ll think about it.”

You wouldn’t admit… something did grab your attention. A curiosity of sorts.

You were fifteen years old when you had your first kiss. He was a short boy with a kind smile, a bit awkward really, but you had a fondness for him. It wasn’t about looks at all, all boys at that age were hideous and nothing would change your opinion on that, but you’d swoon whenever you saw him. It was mutual, an icky teenage infatuation that had your friends poking fun at both of you whenever you’d become giddy at the sight of one another. Hot faces, nervous glances, trembling innocent touches.

He sat next to you in chemistry and you’d hold hands under the lab table while the teacher gave class. His left hand always felt soft in your right one. Cute. It’s a bit silly but you’re glad you had that sort of adorable and silly romance. While it lasted, that is.

Christopher wasn’t a bad guy. He was stupid, like all boys that age.

When you saw him kissing another girl, of course you cried, but you knew it had to do with him being stupid more than anything. This simple looking girl that you had been friends with in elementary school, you can’t even remember her name.

You know why he did it, beyond his stupidity. Your mom had let it slip long before - you knew it was coming.

“Honey, would you believe? Mr. and Mrs. Bang are divorcing!” Probably just some hot gossip from one of her PTA yoga groups, no ill intention on your behalf. She didn’t know you were seeing Christopher - over your dead body. You were fifteen and a horrible student, you didn’t need to give your mother yet another element to ground you with.

“Oh no…” You acted as normally as you could, your first thoughts went out to Christopher first though. “Do you know why?”

“Well… I’m obviously not going to ask, duh! But I do know that Mr. Bang is taking the kid with him abroad.” What?! What did she just say? Chis is WHAT?!

“I - uh, what?” Act normal, act normal, act normal.

“Aww… sweetie, was he your friend?” Goodness, parents can be so oblivious, but it’s beneficial in this case. She doesn’t pick up on the depression of your mood.

“I guess.” A sniffle is about to threaten your composure so, in your teenage arrogance, you leave before your mother can see your teary eyes.

The subsequent days were strange. You expected Christopher to tell you the news, you expected to comfort him, you expected to live out the rest of your young romance as best as you could. And then… you saw him.

And he said nothing. He was cold, pushed you away. He must be going through a lot of pain, you thought. More days went by and he still said nothing, and his demeanor grew worse, no affection, no smiles. He must be having a hard time, you reasoned.

Sometimes you thought he was on the verge of saying something to you, like he was about to say something and the words threatened to come out but he’d suddenly pull away and swallow them. You didn’t question it really, it was so confusing but you just went with it.

You never held his hand in chemistry again.

Time made you realize that Christopher didn’t want to be with you anymore. You weren’t sure if it was because he stopped liking you, and that hurt a little, but you knew what he was going through, and you stood by him in case he ever chose to open up and cry on your shoulder. You’d be there for him.

When he kissed that girl, it didn’t really surprise you. Damn it, what was her name? You cried, you thought it was because you were ugly and your boobs were still pretty small - stupid reasons.

It took a few months for you to understand the real reason.

He left without saying goodbye. You never spoke to him after he kissed what’s-her-name. Maybe he tried to do so a couple of times, but you ran away or didn’t let him. Or maybe you remembered it that way to comfort you, just so you’d live with the thought that he tried to apologize, tired to make things right.

But the fact of the matter is he didn’t speak to you and he didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to say goodbye because it hurt.

He was trying to ruin your relationship so you’d break up with him and he wouldn’t have to say goodbye, so that he could kill the feelings you had for him to spare you from the pain of his departure.

Or maybe you were just imagining it like that to make it a cuter memory and think about it fondly.

Maybe in the end, Christopher was just a horny teenage boy that cheated on you. Maybe.

Regardless, you giggle as you think back on the silliness of it all, and how serious and life altering it all felt in your childishness. It seemed so long ago, so distant, and you were so changed that it felt like it had all happened to a different person. You wondered about the man next door, and the entirely different boy who had once been next door. What kind of person had Christopher become?

University did you well. It was four solid years of irresponsible drinking and uninhibited sexual exploration paired with relatively easy academics. You don’t know how it happened, but it had been like a transformation from one day to the next.

You, sort of, kind of, absolutely plain and normal girl that no one would notice lest you stepped in their line of sight. One day, there you were - normal.

Two weeks in - boom. Confident. Your roommate was an okayish girl, another plain one. Then you started noticing how comfortable you were undressing in front of her, to change clothes or whatever, as if it was the most normal thing in the world - which it was. Wearing shorts and skirts became less of a worry, just something that felt better. Sometimes you’d be thrown icky glances from some boys, which you hated, but others were acceptably flirty and you loved those. The best ones were the boys that would get shy and who would quickly whip their heads the other way once you caught them staring.

That definitely flipped the switch. It made you feel strong, it made you feel damn good. You, who at the most had dipped a finger into the world of heavy makeouts during high school, now became a seasoned seductress of all kinds of men. So long as you could wrap them around your finger with your demeanor, so long as you could prowl over them and take the lead.

Ah… the good old days.

What was going to happen now, though? Four years later, no slightly inexperienced men left to be wowed. Everyone you knew was turning into a bland and bitter office worker. Was this the end of it?

To think that you’d be ending this glorious chapter of your life in this tiny town, lounging on the same stuffy couch in the same hot living room every day, having your routine philosophical melodrama where you’d stare at the ceiling in the afternoons until your mother came in inquiring if you were alive. It was a terrible fate.

A few days after the revelation of Christopher’s presence, which you would never admit had been circling your mind nonstop, your mother returns with another piece of information.

“You know, Jane and Norbert are having a get together of sorts next Saturday - just the usuals from the block.”

“Is that so?” You said with disinterest.

“In fact, I borrowed a baking pan from her last week… why don’t you go over and give it back to her for me? She might need it, and you probably haven’t left this house in days.” You didn’t reply, but you could feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to obey.

“Fine…”

The afternoon was enjoyably fresh, although your white t-shirt stuck to you like a second skin, the bikini top you wore underneath tracing its silhouette into the cotton. You lazily stomped your way to the house next door, admiring the tall window where you had snuck into Christopher’s room a couple of times during your short romance. A ladder was perched up against the exterior toward that window, they must have been fixing things up. The porch was full of cans of paint, tools, boxes. It was only when you rang on the doorbell, begrudgingly holding the large tray, that you realized that Jane might not be the one to open the door but instead it could be -

The door swings open and you gasp. Christopher.

Well… his face hadn’t changed much. But he was slightly taller than you remembered, far more masculine, oh, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Yeah, he was shirtless… jeans hanging low on his hips… shirtless… abs… fit waist… arms…

“Hi! Is Jane home?” Good… pretend you don’t remember him.

“I - Uh… no, my mom’s actually out right now.” He replied. His voice had grown deeper, and where did he get that accent? Wait - did he not remember you? Now, that just made you angry, but you wouldn’t let it show.

“Oh, well… my mother wanted me to return this.” You say handing him the tray, avoiding trailing your eyes downward.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll give it to her.” He says. He seems a little frozen, an expression between surprise and caution lingers on his face, but you don’t know if it’s good or bad.

There’s a moment of silence where you just stare at each other.

“Y/n…” He finally says. There’s hesitation in the way he says your name. He’s scared, not of you, but he’s scared about the fact that you’re on his doorstep.

You don’t say anything, calmly, almost coyly, waiting for him to continue. You’d gotten rather good at pretending you were calm, and the slightest tint of a smile painted your lips so you wouldn’t seem cold or ingenuine.

“Do you remember me?” He asks. You can’t help but huff, a tiny laughter really.

“Of course. You know, you haven’t grown much taller.”

With those slightly playful words, you turn to walk back to your home, and with each step your impression of the encounter with your childhood love became more bitter and less sweet.

It was strange how you thought about him, about it. The situation, that is. Seeing him, talking to him, both of you now being older. A few days of thinking now.

You don’t know why you thought about it so much, but you thought about it. You thought about it without knowing how you felt about it or what you thought about it. This man you had only gotten a glimpse of, too overwhelmed to take in his features properly, now walks around your mind freely. He wasn’t the boy you knew. He wasn’t the boy next door whose hand you’d once hold in chemistry, who you’d kiss before turning the corner towards both of your homes. The boy who left all those years ago.

No, it wasn’t that boy. It was that man, who kept perturbing you. What did you feel? Interest? Yes, there was something quite intriguing about all of this which sparked your curiosity. Lust? Of course, absolutely, the man next door looked divine. Suppose you could abstract the person from his body, so that you wouldn’t be so bothered by who he was and what he meant to you, and you’d easily bend over in front of him and invite him in.

You supposed a conversation was in place, though, because after all, he was still the Christopher. You couldn’t just go around fucking people like that anymore - unfortunately. That was something you got away with in college. It’s a shame college boys grow up to be boring men, sex gets more boring, they think they have all the authority… Maybe you should go back to school.

You’re sitting on the windowsill of your second floor bedroom, one leg hanging out and stepping onto the roof. Opposite to your window, beyond a neat shrub, is the window of the guest room of Mrs. Carson, formerly Bang, which seems unchanged from when you last saw it. You remember watching her from your room, also unchanged, using the TV in there to do some aerobics she followed along from a VHS… was it a VHS? No, that’s the machine. What were the things you used to put in the VHS? A cassette? No… regardless, eventually she must have started using DVD’s.

Damn it, it all seemed like thousands of years ago.

Damn it, you were still so melodramatic throwing around words like poetry over some Richard Simmons tape. Aha! It’s a tape!

Your crotch is being dug into by the window frame, and you let your weight rest on it, the slight grind tempting you to have a round of masturbation. But you’ll finish the cigarette you stole from your mother first. It tasted awful, it was another adult thing you couldn’t understand. Why did everyone at university smoke so much? It was just another thing their eager teenage selves did to emulate the adults in grown-up world, to feel a little more grown-up. Who the hell likes this stuff?

But you liked watching it burn, occasionally inhaling its airy and bitter smoke. It wasn’t your preferred type of smore. You preferred watching papers and matches burn, their sweet and rich smell, the warmth of the fire that would sting the edges of your fingers. Shame your mother only used a lighter, you didn’t like the smell of that fire either.

You just surrendered to watching the bright tip of the cigarette and the white streams that came from it.

“You know those are bad for you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You exclaimed, your heart nearly jumping out from your chest. A man had sprung out from the window in the guest room of the Carson house, formerly Bang, and that man was Christopher Bang himself.

“Sorry I didn’t -”

“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack - what the hell?!”

“ - mean to startle you…”

“Damn it, Christopher!”

“Ah! So you do remember me?” He says with a bit of joy, but you just look at him, realizing that this is where the talk will come. His features grow a little more somber. He continues, “So… I guess I -”

“Where’d you get the accent?” You interrupt, genuinely curious. “You sound like the crocodile hunter.”

“Well… I was living in Australia with my dad.” He says it in a normal tone, but you make sure it doesn’t stay normal.

“Oh, so that’s where you went?” You both wince at what you just said. Yep, it’s finally time for that talk.

There’s a bit of silence, but you’ll let him be the one to fill it.

“I…” He sighs deeply. Uuhh… it’s quite a masculine sigh. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again but I… there’s something I’ve always wanted to say.”

“I’m listening…” You say. It’s a flat tone, but it’s funny. You hope it’ll ease him.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Some silence again, “I’m sorry for being an ass, I’m sorry for cheating on you -”

“Chris, we were like fifteen… you kissed a girl with braces, big deal.” You waved it off. Really, kissing that girl didn’t bother you so much, now almost ten years later.

“I left without saying anything.”

“Yeah, you did. Hard to not notice.”

“I was - I know it’s not an excuse, but I was going through a lot and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“So you left without saying anything?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok… we haven’t spoken in years. I practically forgot about it.” No you didn’t.

“Did you?” He says. Was he hopeful when you insinuated he hadn’t hurt you as much as he thought he had?

“No, not really. I mean, yeah, you kissing another girl was pretty insignificant, we were just kids. It did hurt that you left without… I don’t know… There wasn’t any closure. There wasn’t a goodbye. I felt confused for a while, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry about that. But my parents were splitting up, I was going to have to leave everything behind. You were the first girl I loved and I was going to have to say goodbye and I couldn’t handle it. I was too hurt and embarrassed to even tell my friends. I wish I had done it differently.”

“Yeah, I wish you had too. I wanted to be there for you, you know? I wanted to hug you, hold your hand, tell you it was going to be ok.

“I really messed up there…”

“It’s okay Chris, you were just a kid. We were just kids.” You offer your sympathy but he doesn’t soften.

“Mhmm. Doesn’t make me feel less guilty about it.”

“Can I ask you something?” He nods, “Did you do all that stuff… you know, treat me that way, for real or where you…?”

“I was hoping you’d break up with me, get over me. That way we wouldn’t have to say goodbye and we wouldn’t get hurt.”

“I got hurt.” You admit.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” You insist. “It’s fine. We’re fine. We’re old and grown and fine. All of that’s in the past, I can’t blame you for acting like a kid. It’s okay.”

“Well I can agree with you there. We did grow up, not kids anymore.”

“You didn’t grow that much.” You laugh, he laughs too.

“You certainly did.” He’s being flirty. It could have been bad timing, but the mood felt right.

“Oh, you noticed?”

“Hard not to.” Goodness was he being direct. “You were really cute back in school, I had a crush on you for like, forever.”

“Really…Plain old me?”

“Really. And now here we are and I think I could have a crush on you all over again.”

“So you can go off and kiss another girl with braces and leave the continent?”

“No, I’m a one woman man.” He says while making himself comfortable on his own ledge. It’s getting comfortable overall, like you’re talking to someone you’ve known for the longest time, like a decade of separation didn’t do much harm.

“Well, well. And who is that lucky woman now?”

“There’s no one at the moment. I’m in the middle of some life changes.”

“Do tell.”

“I’m moving back. Well, not here, just in the country again. A big city, big job, kinda scary.”

“Seems we’re on the same boat. I just came back to say goodbye to this place forever and I’m ooout.”

“Did you finish school already?”

“Yeah… I wish I hadn’t though.” You think back on your experience with longing, lamenting it’s end.

“Wow, can’t relate. I couldn’t wait for it to end. What’d you miss about it?”

“Well, I didn’t have to work, grades were good and easy. And I guess, it was tons of fun.”

“How so?”

“Being on a campus full of horny and stupid guys - it was open game.” Chan hisses at your admission.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for that type.” He chuckles, “You would stutter for like the first two months we went out.”

“We were just kids.”

“I guess we were…”

Another comfortable silence as you stare off at the sky, your cigarette burnt through with only the spongy bud left to pinch.

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m single too, you know.”

It might have been a bad idea, you said it on impulse after all, something quite instinctive having taken over you. Maybe you were just horny and Christopher was just hot, regardless, the conversation was over. Before he could even process what you said, and the implications to it, you had already slipped back into your darkened room and out of his sight.

Chan felt like a teenager again. Not in a good way.

Chan remembered your first kiss, holding your hand. He remembered your breasts being the first he had ever really noticed, your legs being the first he ever caressed. He remembers how you’d press your bodies together while you kissed, not really understanding what both of you felt, only understanding the urgency of it.

Now he can name those feelings, the ones that once belonged to an inexperienced boy, merely dipping his toes into the surface of that world. But now that he dove, and had dived into its waters several times, he knew how to swim in them.

Yet, seeing you made him feel like he didn’t. It made him feel like he couldn’t swim, like he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was drowning.

The first moment he saw you on his doorstep he felt his stomach drop, a pang of guilt that had lingered on his mind during countless of sleepless nights hitting him with full force. He didn’t expect it. He thought he would never see you again.

And after taking another look, a longer look, it was like he was swimming in completely different waters. He felt submerged, and he didn’t know which way was up. He wanted to open his mouth and swallow it all up, let you drown him.

He hadn’t felt this raging feeling since he was a teenager. He certainly hadn’t had a specific woman make him feel like this until you.

It made him feel another kind of guilt. Shame even.

The following days he’d watch you, shamefully. His mother had him painting the house and when he stood on the rooftops he took his time to enjoy the view of you swimming in your pool, wearing tiny bikinis that stuck to your skin and showed the buds of your niples and the lines of your labia through the fabric. He would admit, shamefully, that he stopped watching from the roof because he needed to get closer to see these beautiful details.

He now watched you from over the fence in his backyard. Getting incredibly hard watching you swim, watching you oil your body down.

It was all horribly, horribly shameful.

But weren’t you the one that mentioned you were single? It had caught him off guard. He was being cheeky in that moment, but he didn’t know what waters he was testing then. Now he knew, and it was making him behave so, so shamefully.

Should he go over there, push you into a corner of the pool and pull your bottoms to the side? Should he kneel at your feet while your rubbing yourself with that golden oil, and beg you to let him fuck you?

It wasn’t just the thought of sex that drove him mad, it was you in general. How inferior he felt in front of you, like he had to prove himself. Every day he worked shirtless, hoping you’d get a glimpse of him, but you were just so unbothered by it all.

It was driving him fucking insane.

If only you knew.

Except - of course you did. Of course you did. This is what you craved, what you were best at. Driving boys, technically men but boys sounds tastier, to be absolute slaves to their desire for you. Christopher wasn’t doing a good job at hiding it. Did he really think that you would suddenly spend every day swimming in the tiniest bikinis after having not left your couch for over a week? They really are such stupid, fuckable animals.

And Chris was particularly fuckable.

Day four of his perverted project, he was hammering away at some boards in the back porch of his house. Your mother wouldn’t be home for hours, his parents were away for a couple of days.

Everything was perfect.

“Chris?!” You call loudly over the fence from your chaise lounge, carelessly flipping through a book. The hammering stopped, he had heard you. “Chris, it’s hot today. Don’t you think you should come over for a swim to cool down?”

Why on earth were you acting so damn unbothered and confident, he thought. Why on earth were you asking him over?

It’s only a matter of time before he circles his own house and slides in through the gate on your end. He’s still wearing jeans and a utility belt, gloves too. No shirt.

“You can’t really swim in those, take them off.” You hardly peered at him from over your sunglasses. He was just standing there, frozen. That’s usually a sign that you’re working your magic well. Good. “Come on Christopher, take them off.”

“I - uh, I’m actually not wearing trunks right now. Uhm… I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go.” Insert unbothered page flip. “Why don’t you just undress and get in the pool so I can join you?”

“W-what?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He genuinely thought he had imagined it, maybe all of his hornyness was driving him insane.

“Christopher!” You whine. “You’re ruining the fun!” You slam the book shut and throw it over to the side, taking your sunglasses and hat off. “Chris, I think it’s obvious. Do you think I haven’t noticed you being a peeping tom for the past half week? Look! You’ve already got a tent in your pants and everything!”

“Fuck.” Shit, you were right.

“This is like, hmm, like an open invitation to fuck me.” You say with an eye roll, but your eyes roll toward his abs because they are absolutely distracting you.

“Are… are you serious?”

“Well… You want to, I want to. You’re nice, look like you’ve become quite a decent man - and I’m not just referring to your physique Chris. Maybe, just maybe, it would be an excellent idea if we finally fucked this tension away.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. You’re here for a few weeks, so am I. Why not enjoy each other while we can? After that we can just go our separate ways, just like before except we’ll end it on good terms.”

Too many points for him to argue with - you were right on all of them. He couldn’t disagree. In fact, he eagerly agreed. Little did he know you had this pitch rehearsed to perfection, to your benefit, because he seemed to be completely subdued by it.

“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. Fumbling with his belt, zipper, exposing the line of his abdomen down to his hardening cock. A fat, heavy cock that swung between his muscular thighs. He was fully nude now, standing in front of you, his tan skin glistening in the sunlight. You’re quick to urge him over with a finger.

He pounces, but once he’s crawling over you on that narrow chair, he becomes slow.

“Hi.” You manage to whimper out, now feeling a bit small beneath him, feeling nervous even.

“Hey.” He’s just as nervous but there’s an energy that goes beyond either of your wills pulling you toward one another.

He kisses you. It’s a kiss you melt into, and he sinks his body against yours, with you spreading your legs so he can slot between them. His cock rests against your lower abdomen, his body pressing further into you.

You can’t help but slide your hand between your two bodies in an attempt to finger yourself, prepare yourself, but he stops you and pulls back.

“No.” He growls.

“No?” Is he going to leave you like this?!

“Let me.”

And you do. Chan lowers himself, adjusting you so he can easily bend over the chair while kneeling on the ground, and his hands shake as he dips the tip of his fingers into the hem of your bottoms, just slightly tugging at the material, playing with it before he starts to play with you. You’ve got the perfect view of him basically drooling over you.

He slides the bottoms to the side, but you pull at the strings at your hips, so they come undone and he pulls them away completely. Your lips and the juices coming from between them are just as glossy than your oiled skin.

He can’t help but dig in. Fucking you with his mouth, jamming his fingers in you. It’s an animalistic frenzy and it’s hot and slippery and sticky. You cum and your fluids spill over the impermeable cushion below, pooling under your ass. He can see every sparkling droplet fall from you.

It’s just a haze, he nearly jumps on you, bending your legs nearly over your head, bouncing his pelvis on your cunt like a trampoline, smacking with every thrust. You’re completely glued to one another. If he’s not abusing your mouth with his tongue then he’s biting on your shoulder or grunting, growling, into your ear. It’s filthy. You’re absolutely sure you’ve never been fucked like this.

He cums, several times, as do you. He pulls out each time, jerks himself off on your body, although a couple of times you urged him into your mouth and face. He pulls the triangles on your top to the sides, so your breasts are exposed. He made sure to cum on those too. Semen, sweat, squirt, oil, spit, everywhere there are droplets of your fluids shining on your body like jewels.

It ends with him lying on top of you, nearly sleeping from exhaustion, and your lips feel deliciously sore and sensitive, almost ticklish as he softens inside of you.

It happens again. Several times in fact. Many, many times. When his parents are away, when your mom is away, you fuck all the time. Just a little call of his name over the fence or from your window and he’d be running to you. You were too comfortable with one another to bother with formalities, it was like you’d never been separated. You’d wait for him on all fours, wet cunt on display for him to dive in, but he’d always greet you with a gentle kiss.

Fucking each others faces, drinking eachothers fluids. You even let him fuck you in the ass, multiple times, and he was the first guy to make you cum that way. You were just as hooked and as desperate as he was.

Things started to change though.

The welcoming kisses became longer, you’d talk between the rounds…

You’d fall asleep in his arms, or he in yours.

You’d fuck slowly, deeply, staring into each other’s eyes.

You’d talk to him, tell each other stories of all these years, asi if you had been together the entire time.

You’d smile as you made love, gently. You’d let him cum inside of you.

He’d hold your hand again. They were as soft and warm as you remembered.

You were holding his hand on one particular pink evening, your head resting on his heaving chest, teaching circles into his pecs and nipples. On your bed, in your quiet childhood room. It was a painful silence now. It had been weeks, weeks closer to your respective departure dates.

“I wish I had never left.” He eventually says. You don’t know what to say. “I wish we could have stayed like this for longer.”

“Maybe we would have broken up eventually, or left for college.” You ponder.

“Maybe I would have taken you to prom, or we would have had sex together for the first time…” He returns.

“On this bed? Hmm? With my cute school uniform?” You tease. “Yeah, maybe.”

“But I guess this is what was meant to be.” He sighs, as do you.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can say.

“What for?”

“I don’t know, I just feel bad. I started this and now we have to go our separate ways again.” You feel something sting in your eye. You can’t cry now.

“Shh…” He coos as he hears you sniffle and feels you twitch. It makes his heart ache like it did all those years ago when he left.

“I - I…” You cry. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to go.”

He pulls you into his arms, crushing you in an embrace. Your eyes are closed but you feel the tears fall from his face, he’s crying too.

“I know… but what else can we do?”

There was nothing left to do, other than fuck the days away, crying, holding each other until it hurt. It was a horrible, horrible thing to have fallen in love with Christopher Bang this final summer.

You didn’t go with him to the airport. You didn’t want to say goodbye, you didn’t want to see where he was going.

But he did slip into your room that final night. You made love quietly, he kissed you as you cried.

He said it was the second time he loved you, and the second time he had to leave you.

It hurt much more this time around. Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, maybe you shouldn’t have gone next door.

Being in your house was unbearable once Chris wasn’t next door.

A week later, you’ve arrived at your new place. It had been a whirlwind and you stayed at a hotel the first couple of nights while your new furniture got brought in, most of your personal belongings only fitting in a couple of bags.

It’s kept you busy. That way you think about him a little less. Crying into pillows that have that certain ‘brand new’ smell isn’t quite as comforting as you’d expect. Everything seems unfamiliar, strange, artificial. Nothing here reminded you of him - it was for the best and you hated it.

The place is nice, bright. It’s on the third floor of a small apartment building, a couple of other doors beside yours in the hall. You go downstairs to grab a few packages that have arrived, carefully treading up the stairs in a kind of balancing act once they’re piled in your arms. It’s a choreography you can dance to with expertise, always denying any help from your neighbors.

However, you do fumble with the lock and handle once you’re at your door, holding the boxes up by pressing them against the door with your body as your hands blindly fumble with the keys, nothing but cardboard in your sight.

Nothing you can’t handle, until they start to slip.

“Woah, let me help you with that!” someone says behind you, and in your complicated state it’s a bit difficult to process what happens but the boxes are soon out of the way, said someone pulling them from you and freeing you.

And then you see him.

Him.

Your him.

He says your name and you’re too stunned to react. He’s in awe too. He drops your packages, and you’re certain some of them contain some makeup palettes but you don’t give a damn at the moment.

“What are you doing here?” You finally ask, frozen in place.

“I… live in 304.” He says.

“You live in 304?” He nods. “You? You’re serious?” He nods again, eyes still wide.

You both stand there, processing it all. This can’t be real.

“I live in 302.” you manage to say, after some time. Your voice is weak, all the air has left your lungs. You shake.

“You do?” He asks. Now you nod.

This can’t be.

But he cups your face, holds it like you’re precious and delicate, he kisses you. It is real. You kiss him back, harder. Eventually you’re both clinging to one another, gripping each other’s clothes desperately.

“You live here.” He says, little tears sparkling in the corner of his eyes. You nod, the same tears coming to you.

“I do. Mm-hmm.” The sniffles you let out seem so sweet to him, he swoons with how happy you are to see him. Knowing you feel the same joy he does - it makes him feel complete.

“I live here too!” He cries, laughing, smiling, beautifully.

One more kiss, just to make sure it’s real. You pull him in and kiss him one more time.

It’s real.