#tomorrow is my last day of work before I go to California!!!!!

[myfriendtheghost]

heyyyy how y’all doin

[therealbeachfox]

Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

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We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

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So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

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Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

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They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

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There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

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It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

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When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

[cherryblossomcowgirl]

The One That Got Away

WC: 1.7k

WARNINGS: Angst; Fluff; Miscommunication

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The plane lands and I step out into the California air. It’s been 6 years since I’ve set foot here, but the memories hit me like a brick wall. My ‘One That Got Away’ floods my mind. The perfect blonde hair and green eyes. The smug smirk he wore more often than not. I try to shake the thoughts out of my head. I remind myself, we are here for work. Not for Jake Seresin. Once I get in the rental car, I head to the site of my new coffee shop. I opened my first cafe 4 years ago back home in Austin. Sassy’s Books and Brews has taken off, expanding faster than I could have ever imagined. When my development team said California was the next move, the ache in my heart returned. It’s been 6 years and here I am, wondering if he still thinks about me.

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My creative director hugs me outside of the cafe, “Y/n, this is amazing! It’s all come together. This is going to be a hit!” I chuckle nervously, “I hope so. How’s the social media response for the grand opening tomorrow?” She beams at me, “Ah-ma-zing. We already have 20k followers on the instagram ALONE!” I smile and scan the cafe over one last time. Checking my watch, I sigh, “I’m going to head to the hotel and try to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day. Thank you for everything, you’re outstanding.” At the hotel, I shut myself in the room and order room service. There’s a Harry Potter marathon on, so I fall asleep thinking about a magical world.

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My alarm startles me awake. After hair, makeup, and changing my outfit ten times, I drive over for the big event. Local news is already filling the sidewalk out front. There is a line all the way around the corner. All the baristas are ready to go. I put on a large smile and open the doors, “Welcome to Sassy’s Books and Brews! C’mon in y’all!” I join my baristas behind the counter as the crowd files in. Part of me is wondering if he will walk in those doors. Another part of me is angry at myself for even entertaining the thought. I focus on keeping the line moving, pushing Jake out of my mind. We are busy all day long, so I make sure each barista gets the breaks they need. The team here is amazing and I have no doubt they have what it takes to keep the shop running smooth. There’s finally a moment of calm around 8 pm, right before closing. I send the baristas home, thanking them for their work today. There are a few people sitting around, reading and chatting. A smile spread across my face as I remember the day I decided to open these cafes. My dream was to have a place where everyone felt at home, surrounded by literature and good drinks. The door chime brings me back to reality, I look up only to meet those green eyes. Jake smirks as he walks towards the counter, “I had to stop by to see if it was really you.” I lean on the counter, “Well Jake, here I am. Can I get you anything?” “I’ll take a black coffee.” He tries to hand me cash but I refuse, “It’s on the house.” I hand him his coffee and he raises an eyebrow, “How have you been? Your hair is darker.” “I’ve been good. Yourself?” He shrugs, “Same here. It’s been a long time, Y/n.” I look down at my hands, “Yes it has.” He leans in, “Mom called when you opened your first cafe. Said she goes there all the time.” Nodding, I smile, “She does. Always makes my day seeing Cyndy.” He rubs his hand through his hair, “When do you close? Maybe we could go somewhere and… catch up?” For a moment I want to say yes, but then the memories of the heartbreak resurface. I swallow the lump in my throat, “I don’t think that’s the best idea, Jake.” Sadness washes over his face, “Well, I’ll see you around. Thank you for the coffee.” As I watch him walk away, my heart aches. How can I be angry at someone and still want them at the same time?

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Jake stops by the shop every morning for the rest of the week. Every time I see him walking up, I make myself busy in the back. I’m only here for the next few weeks to make sure the shop starts off on the right foot, then I can go home and leave these thoughts of Jake behind. It’s Friday night, right before closing and I send the rest of the staff home. Lots of people are sitting around, playing board games and laughing. I get comfy behind the counter, rereading Sherlock for the umpteenth time. “Evening, Y/n. Long week?” Jake smiles as I stand up, getting him a black coffee, “Very. Happy about the turnout.” He takes a sip, “Any chance we could talk?” I check my watch, “We close in 5 minutes, you could hang around while I clean up.” A smile spreads across his whole face. People head out and I flip the open sign to closed, starting the long process of cleaning the machines and shutting everything off for the night. Jake clears his throat, “I’ve missed you.” I sigh, “Jake…” “Not just like that. You were my best friend for as long as I can remember. When our relationship ended, I wasn’t ready for our friendship to end too.” Tears start to form in my eyes and I turn away from him, “I didn’t know how to go back to best friends.” “Did you get my letters?” When I finally meet his eyes again, they’re searching mine for any answer. I nod. “Did you read them?” I shake my head. The stack of letters is in a box in my office. Unopened. Unread. The only guy I had dated that I thought could work found them one day. He broke up with me, saying that I wouldn’t have kept them if I didn’t care about him. I fiddle with the espresso machine, “I have them. I just couldn’t read them, Jake.” He walks behind the counter, wiping the tear that fell down my cheek. His touch sends a shiver down my spine. It always has. His voice lowers, “Just tell me why.”

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*6 years before*

Our love story was like a cheesy movie. We grew up together. Jake was 2 years older than me. Wherever he went, I followed. All throughout school, our neighborhood, even summer vacations. Jake and Y/n. Our Mom’s always joked that we would grow up and get married. When we were young we’d respond, “Ewww!!!!”. But as we got older, the feelings started to change. My crush on Jake grew and grew. He went to college at UT, then a couple years later I got accepted too. He helped me set up my freshman dorm and he looked different. More toned. More tan. Jake was no longer the tall and awkward teenage boy, but a strong and beautiful man. I didn’t know how he felt about me. I was too scared to ask him. Jake was so popular around campus, he could have any girl he wanted. One night I was walking back to my dorm crying. Some boy had asked me out, but never showed up at the restaurant. I was so embarrassed. Jake was coming out of the library when he ran up to me. He took me back to his apartment and he turned on one of our favorite movies to make me feel better. That night, he looked at me different. There was something in his eyes. That’s when he kissed me for the first time. The rest was history. When he graduated, he went off to boot camp and started his military career. I was so proud of him. He wrote to me whenever he could. He even made it back for my graduation, just to surprise me. But that night, everything changed. Jake told me about his new dream, being a Navy Pilot. I smiled, “Where will you be out of? Corpus?” He looked down, “Florida for a few weeks. Then I want to go to Top Gun… in California.” My brain tried to figure out a new plan. One where I could keep my new job I was so excited about, but somehow be wherever Jake is. The panic set in and he grabbed my hands, “Marry me. I don’t have a ring but I’ll get you one. Come with me, please.” Tears filled my eyes, “Jake… I… I can’t.” He stood there, shocked, as I ran away crying.

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*Present day*

I take a deep breath, “I came here looking for you, Jake. 6 years ago. Cyndy told me where to find you. When I got to the bar, I saw you taking a girl back to your truck. Y’all left. I figured you had moved on and I couldn’t be angry at you because I was the one that ended everything. So I went back home.” His eyes well up, “I’m an idiot. Some rebound, one night stand kept the love of my life away?” I whisper, “I didn’t know. Jake, I was so scared.” He put his face in his hands, “I’m the one that changed the plan. I was gonna stay in Texas. We could’ve been together. I just fell in love with flying. I’m sorry.” I place my hand on his shoulder, “Don’t apologize, Jake. I am happy for you. You wouldn’t have been happy if you stayed in Texas.” His green eyes meet mine, “But I would have you.” “We were kids. Who knows if we would’ve made it.” He rests his hand on top of mine, “Do you have someone?” I shake my head, thinking of all of my failed relationships since Jake. He thinks for a moment, “Why?” I close my eyes, debating whether or not I want to tell him. My heart wins the argument against my brain, “Because none of them were you.”

[roosterforme]

How You Play the Game Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley doesn't hear from you after the first game, he thinks that's it. But you got his heart pounding and made him smile, and he wants to see you again. The realization that maybe something that perfect should be left as a one night stand hits him hard, but he wants to know if there could be more.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst and smut (18+)

Length: 5600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Bradley was laying in bed on Saturday morning with the New York times app open on his phone, scrolling to find your article. When his eyes settled on your name below the title, he tapped on it. The app took him to your full biography and a picture of you in front of Wrigley Field. 

You even looked beautiful in your stock photo image. He was tempted to save it to his photo gallery, but instead he skimmed your bio. You'd lived all over the country and played every sport imaginable as a child. You had graduated first in your class from Syracuse University, and you were undefeated at sports trivia.

The smile on his lips grew as he read the article that you must have submitted before your deadline last night. Your writing style was fun and entertaining, and you had even mentioned the comment he made about the catcher for the Angels. Bradley groaned and tossed his phone aside. He wanted to see you again.

But as he got out of bed and headed for his bathroom, he reminded himself that last night had one night stand written all over it. You were in California for work. You both said that hooking up like that wasn't something you normally did. He was sure you just did it for a bit of fun. Bradley was an idiot for catching feelings after a few hours with you, but it felt like he already knew you. Talking to you in person felt like reading your articles, because your writing matched your personality so well. Witty, intelligent, funny and charming.

"Chill the fuck out," Bradley told himself in the bathroom mirror. "It's done."

Then he spent the day trying to think about anything that wasn't sports related. He even took a ten mile run up along the beach to kill some time. And when Nat asked him if he was going to the Hard Deck, he decided that would help. 

But everyone there was wearing Padres gear and talking about that game one victory. And Bradley swallowed hard when he saw that Shannon was working behind the bar. He hadn't thought about her much recently, and she definitely hadn't crossed his mind at all when he'd been with you. But nevertheless, Bradley smiled when she greeted him.

"Hey, Rooster," she said with that grin that he was so used to. And she poured him a beer before he even asked for one. "You think you'll stick around for last call?" 

He watched her hand as she slid the beer across the bartop. "I'll let you know?" he asked, barely able to meet her eyes. 

"Sounds good. I'll start a tab for you."

He just nodded and turned to find the other aviators. Sleeping with Shannon tonight might help Bradley get you off his mind. But did he want to? He kind of liked the way warm thoughts of your voice and your smile kept bubbling to the surface. He could hear you asking him if he'd write back to a text from you. Honestly, he had been low key hoping you'd contact him today, and then he could have proven that he'd write back immediately, just like he promised. 

But he'd heard nothing. No text. No call. You hadn't done anything with his phone number. 

"What's your problem?" Nat asked, pinching his arm until he snapped out of it. "I asked you three times if you wanted to play pool with me."

"I'm not in the mood," he groaned, rubbing his arm as the TV screen caught his attention. They were playing World Series highlights and talking about tomorrow night's game. 

"Why are you pouting?"

He rolled his eyes. "Nat, I'm not pouting."

"You are. Is this because Bagman is flirting with Shannon?"

Bradley glanced over his shoulder and saw that Nat was correct. Jake was leaning on the bar, trying his hardest to get Shannon to smile. "Nah. I told you, that's just casual. Doesn't mean anything." He sipped his beer.

"Well whatever is bothering you, either tell me about it or get over it, because I want to beat Javy and Reuben at pool for once."

Bradley closed his eyes and told her, "I met someone at the game last night."

"No!" she gasped. "Tell me everything."

After he hesitated for a beat, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped on your name in the NYT app before handing it to her. He watched Nat as she skimmed the screen and examined your photo.

"Oh! You met her? Oh, shit....you hooked up with her!"

"Yeah," he grunted, glad that his best friend didn't need much help to figure out exactly what was going on with him. She never did. 

"You like her! Why can I so easily picture you happily married to a sports writer? You could have six kids, and each one would play a different sport. One would play softball, one would be a kickass hockey player, one would play soccer, you'd probably have a ballerina-"

"Nat," he said, cutting her off with a laugh. "I'm not going to see her again. I gave her my number, but I haven't heard from her." He turned back to the bar to find that Shannon was alone again. Maybe it wouldn't hurt if he stayed until last call.

"Bradley. She's probably covering game two! You could go back to Petco Park tomorrow."

"Yeah," he grunted. "She's definitely covering game two. She told me she was. Right after I gave her my number which she hasn't used. It was just a hookup, Nat."

"I'll buy you a ticket," she said, fishing out her own phone. "An early Christmas present."

"Don't you dare. The resale price is up to almost a thousand bucks for the nosebleed seats."

She sighed and said, "Fine. But you should still think about going."

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

After you spent most of your weekend in your hotel room doing research and writing, you decided to take a few hours off on Sunday afternoon. And it was during this time, when you went for a walk through Balboa Park, that you let yourself accept the fact that you'd been working like a maniac all weekend to try to keep your mind off of Bradley.  

Your hotel room smelled like his cologne or aftershave or maybe his laundry detergent. It was nice. Kind of comforting. You wanted to lay in bed with him until you smelled like it, too. But on Saturday morning, when you had thrown away the rogue condom wrapper, you decided it was better to throw away his phone number, too. You tried to rip that sheet out of your notebook since you no longer needed those stats, but you couldn't do it. Instead it was tucked away with your other work items, and you hoped you wouldn't cave and contact him.

After you took a shower, you grabbed your bag and your media pass and headed out early so you would have time to get some food when you got there. You liked that the ballparks usually served up local treats, and you'd get there in time to actually enjoy some fish tacos or a poke bowl tonight. You even thought about grabbing a local beer and drinking it on the main concourse before heading up to the box. You decided to go up and set down your computer and then find the beer cart.

But when you approached the narrow stairs that would take you up to the press box, you froze.

"Ace."

He was standing there, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, an earnest look on his handsome face.

"Bradley," you gasped as your heart thudded with excitement. "What are you doing here? Did you win another contest?"

"No," he said, shaking his head slowly. "I bought a ticket."

You knew the tickets were reselling at a premium price, and as he pushed away from the wall and dropped his arms to his sides, you asked, "Really? You're that much of a Padres fan?"

He shrugged and kind of shook his head, but your breath caught in your throat when he said, "You never texted me, Ace. I haven't stopped thinking about you for a single second, but you didn't text or call me."

He was close enough now that you could smell him, and you almost whimpered as your eyes fluttered closed. "You really wanted me to use your number?" you asked, meeting his eyes once again.

"Of course. That's why I wrote it down," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Shit, I shouldn't have come here to see you." He was blushing profusely and looking at the floor. "You wanted that to be a one time thing, didn't you?" he asked, glancing up at your eyes with a slight grimace on his face. 

Well now you weren't so sure. You thought he had just written his number down as a tactic. It wouldn't have been the first time you had a guy see how far he could get you to go while making you feel like you had some sort of safety net. Making you think he was really into you. But maybe Bradley actually was?  

"Bradley, I-"

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "In an effort to not completely ruin the perfection of Friday night in my mind, I'm gonna go."

You watched him turn, and he made it about ten steps before you ran to him, reaching for his bicep. "Bradley, wait." When he stopped, you bumped into him, but he steadied you. You swallowed hard. He was so attractive, and you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about him all weekend. Inviting him back to your hotel room again had been a fun fantasy you'd indulged in since late Friday night. "Do you want to sit with me again? In the box?"

He looked surprised now. "Yeah."

"Okay." You linked your fingers with his and led him back to the stairs. He still looked a little tentative as you added, "Let's go."

When you used your card to open the door, you made it halfway up the stairs before you paused and turned to look at him. He was one step below you, and your height just about matched up with his. He still looked a little surprised, but there was a soft smile on his lips now, and you wrapped your fingers a little tighter around his.

"To be clear, did you buy a one thousand dollar ticket so you could stand at the bottom of these stairs and try to see me again tonight?"

"Yes," he said clearly and without hesitation. You shook your fingers free from his and wrapped both of your hands around the back of his neck before leaning in to kiss him. Your nose brushed along the side of his as you felt the prickle of his mustache against your skin. And then his hands were on your waist as he welcomed you into his arms. He parted his lips for you as you dragged your fingers up into his hair. Then he broke the kiss long enough to rasp, "I like you, Ace."

You kissed his lips once more before running your lips along his mustache. He squeezed your waist a little tighter as the door opened behind him. When you saw that it was Raya, another sports writer, you took Bradley by the hand again and led him all the way into the box.

"Don't get into any trouble today," you whispered, pushing him down into the same stool he had occupied on Friday night. "I got you in with my pass."

"I'll be so good," he promised, looking up at you with eyes far too innocent for the rest of his smirking face. And somehow you doubted it.

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

Bradley couldn't keep his hands off you as you worked. He kept finding ways to trace little circles along your back. The pace of game two seemed to be a lot faster as the Angels got into a better groove against the Padres, and you were frantically keeping your stats as you typed away. 

"You want something else to eat?" he asked you between innings as you scribbled out some notes that he supposed must have made sense to you.

"Yes, please," you said, turning to smile at him. You watched Bradley stand, and he headed to the table lined with food. You seemed surprised that he had been sincere when he said he wanted you to text him. Yeah, he'd been joking around a little bit when he wrote his number down in your notebook, but he was kind of crushed when he hadn't heard from you. 

When Bradley turned to take the food back to that little spot you and he were sharing in the last row, he saw the reporter in front of you turn around and start giving you a hard time.

"You gonna bring your boyfriend to each game, New York?"

Bradley wanted to punch this asshole in the face, because who even made comments like that? But instead he watched you sigh dramatically and say, "At least I can get laid, Quincy. You're such a hater. Now turn around, I'm busy."

But Bradley did shoot Quincy a glare for good measure, and he didn't take his eyes off him until he had turned around. "More food," Bradley told you, setting the plate down where you could reach it without it being in your way. Then he settled onto his stool and draped his arm across the back of yours while you picked at the food. 

You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Thanks," just as the Padres hit a home run. Bradley desperately wanted to cheer, but nobody cheered in the press box, apparently. So he sat quietly while you updated your stat sheet and ate a taco. 

"Which team do you cheer for, Ace?" he asked, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. "You know, when you're not working and allowed to cheer."

Your lips parted in silence before you pressed them together, and then you said, "I never tell anyone my favorite teams."

Bradley examined your face for a beat. "You want to tell me, don't you?"

"Oh my god," you moaned, head tipped back. "Yeah, I actually do."

As Bradley shook from the laughter he was trying to hold in, you leaned in close to him. "You can tell me," he said, grinning. "I'll keep your secret."

You let your palm come to rest on his abs before sliding it along to his waist as you pressed your lips to his ear. "You can't tell anyone. Ever."

The feel of your lips on him, about to divulge something so important to your career had him pulling you closer. You laughed softly as your lips bumped his ear, and Bradley stifled a moan. 

"I won't say a word about it," he promised.

"My favorite team is the Toronto Blue Jays."

That was about to become Bradley's favorite team, too. Maybe he could go to a game with you when you were allowed to cheer. 

"Do you know what their mascot is named?" you asked as you eased yourself back into your seat. When he shook his head, you picked up your pencil and wrote in the margin of your stat sheet.

Ace.

Bradley laughed again. You had him smiling or laughing nonstop right now, and he couldn't believe it was already the eighth inning. It was getting late in the game now, but you were still writing. 

Do you want to come back to my hotel with me again?

And then he realized that this was the first time he'd thought about fucking you all day. 

Bradley leaned in close and kissed your neck a few times before he said, "Only if you save my number in your phone." Because as much as he'd been thinking yesterday about how good it felt to have sex with you, he wanted to hear from you when it wasn't a game day. He wanted to keep talking to you.

During the break at the end of the inning, you pulled your phone out and made a show of flipping to the previous page in your notebook and entering his phone number into your contacts list. Then you turned your phone screen away from him and typed something out, and he just waited to feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. When he did, he looked at his messages and saw that you had sent him a photo of you with the Toronto Blue Jays mascot. And you captioned it with: Be honest, which Ace do you think is cuter?

He typed out to you, I'm not sure if you knew this, but I'm wildly attracted to blue feathers.

When you looked at your phone again, your laughter was loud enough to have Quincy turning around and earning another glare from Bradley. And just as the ninth inning started, you texted Bradley one more time. I hope you replaced your wallet condom, Boy Scout Bradley. 

Truthfully, he had not. Getting lucky hadn't been his primary thought when he was just wanting to see you again. He muttered, "We're gonna need more than one, Ace."

And as your hand came to rest on his thigh, you tapped your lips with your pencil eraser. "I saw them for sale in the hotel lobby."

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

You couldn't remember feeling this way ever before. At least not with someone you barely knew. Bradley had your bag on his shoulder and he was practically carrying you across the parking lot as you laughed. You liked him a lot. He came back to see you again today. He was so funny and sweet, and you should have texted him on Saturday. 

"You seem very eager," you whispered against his cheek as you kissed him at the crosswalk. You were running your hands all over his shoulders and dipping your hands inside his Padres jersey. 

He picked you up to carry you across the street with the crowd of other pedestrians. "I'm hoping you'll show me your blue feathers tonight," he rasped, making you laugh even more. 

"I knew you liked the other Ace better!"

He kissed your neck, and once he had you inside the hotel lobby, he said, "No, you're my favorite."

"Condoms," you whispered, pointing toward the small convenience shop next to the front desk. Bradley set you down and grabbed up all ten double packs of condoms and dumped them in front of the young guy who was working at the front desk.

"Is that all you needed, sir?"

Bradley pulled out his credit card and handed it to him, looking at you while he said, "Well no, that's not all I need." His gaze was openly needy as he looked at your face, lingering on your lips. You felt warm all over, and when Bradley had all twenty condoms in his hands again, you hooked your fingers though the belt loop of his jeans and pulled him toward the elevators. 

"Let's go, Boy Scout."

Bradley groaned as the elevator door opened and you pulled him inside. He stood before you with your computer bag, so many packs of condoms and an erection that you could plainly see behind his zipper. You giggled and ran your thumbnail up and down his zipper as you said, "You're adorable."

He swallowed hard as you led him out on the top floor and down the corridor toward your room. "Ace? Baby?"

"Yeah?" you asked, unlocking the door as he stood behind you and let you feel him pressed to your lower back.

"Maybe you should finish writing your article first? I don't want you to get too close to your deadline again."

You opened the door and backed into the room, pulling him in with you. "No," you whispered before you kissed him hard. "I want you right now."

You grabbed one of the double packs of condoms from his hands, and he let the rest of them fall to the floor. The smile that you and he shared had your tummy doing somersaults as he gently set down your computer bag. You continued to back up slowly to the bed as he followed you. When you toed off your shoes, you watched him pause to pull his off as well. And then you were holding up the condoms and walking backwards across the bed on your knees until you reached the middle. 

Bradley was frozen, just staring at you with a crooked smile on his face and his hands on his zipper. "I'm waiting," you whispered. And then you weren't waiting anymore at all, because Bradley was on top of you, wrapping his arms around you as his weight pushed you down into the bedding.

You moaned into his kisses as you ran your fingers through his hair. He already felt, smelled and sounded familiar to you. He tugged on your shirt until he was kissing you through your bra.

"You don't taste like beer today," he murmured against your skin, teasing you with his mustache. 

"No, you managed not to spill," you replied, pulling your own shirt off as he unhooked your bra. His mouth was all over your breasts once he tossed your bra on the floor, and you were arching your back up against him. "You feel good."

He groaned into your skin while you felt him grind against your core through way too much fabric. "Ace." His hands were cupping your breasts as he let his lips drift down your belly until he was kissing along the top of your jeans. You unbuttoned and unzipped your pants and let him pull them down your legs. And then he was still fully clothed, giving you head just like two nights ago.

He was good at it, too. But when you started to touch your own breasts, he got distracted, lips grazing your clit as he watched you. When he lazily brought the pad of his thumb up along your slit and started teasing you, the sounds you made were so needy. You thought he could probably get you off like this if you wanted him to. 

But you sat up and made quick work of his jersey buttons while he slipped his index finger inside you. "Bradley," you moaned softly as he kissed your neck and finger fucked you. He just seemed to want to make you feel good, and your hands stalled as you pushed his jersey down off both of his shoulders. Your palms came to rest on his warm biceps, and you could feel his arm muscles working as he fingered you. 

"Tell me what you want, Ace," he grunted, stroking your clit with his thumb. He'd said that on Friday as well. 

"I want you naked and inside me."

He let you undress him then, and you took his cock in both of your hands. You watched him roll onto his back as you teased him with your fingers, running your nails down along his thighs. The veins in his neck were strained, and his cheeks were flushed as his eyes darted from your face down to your hands and back up. He was glorious. Huge everywhere. Tan and muscular and perfect. So hard and eager to please. 

When you straddled his hips and planted your hands on his shoulders, he pulled you to him, kissing your lips until you were laying flat on him. His length was gliding through your soaked pussy, and you moaned at the feel of him rubbing slowly against your clit. You mumbled his name, but he just kissed your lips harder, wrapping those big hands around your hips. 

With each little movement of your hips grinding against him, you were closer to fucking him, so you gasped, "Condom." 

"Mmhmm," he hummed, one big hand at the middle of your back while he reached blindly around the bedding in search of the small package. His lips were still soft and perfect on yours, unhurried as he handed you the condoms. You pressed your forehead to his as you fumbled trying to open one of them, and then you were sitting up between his legs, rolling it down his length, ready to go.

You guided yourself down around his cock, and he felt incredible, just like before. "Oh god," you whined softly, taking every inch of him while he grasped your thighs hard. 

"So pretty," he whispered, watching you fucking him. Soon you were riding him fast and rough, bracing your hands on his abs. You couldn't even talk or formulate words as you whimpered, because he was hitting that sweet spot inside you. With every movement you were getting closer, and Bradley looked like he was struggling to keep it together. 

You took his right hand, and brought it up to your mouth, sucking on his index and middle fingers to get them wet. "Baby, it feels too good," he groaned, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. Then you guided his hand down to your clit, and you started cumming almost instantly. You held onto his wrist, rubbing your clit against his fingers with each stroke of your pussy along his cock.

Loud, incoherent noises filled the room as you came, riding him without finesse, head tipped back. And then Bradley was sitting up, right arm wrapped around your waist while he braced himself with his left palm on the bed. He whispered praise against your skin, pausing to kiss you as he thrust his hips up to fuck you as you came down from your high. "You're so hot. So good."

He sucked on your neck before his movements became jerky, and then he was chanting Ace! as he came too. He collapsed back against the bed with you held tightly to his chest, and you ran your fingers along his sweaty neck and up to stroke his jaw.

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

Bradley had nearly fallen asleep with your warm body draped over his and his soft cock still buried inside you. And then your phone alarm went off, and you were instantly scrambling to find your jeans amongst the pile of clothing on the floor.

"Shit," you muttered, glancing at him as you silenced your phone and checked the time. "I need to finish writing and submit my piece."

Bradley nodded and rolled onto his side and reached for a tissue to take care of the used condom. The last thing he wanted to do was go home now, but you had work to do, and he needed to be on base in the morning. He stood as you scooped his jersey up off the floor, but instead of handing it to him, you slipped it on. It fit you like a cute, little dress. 

"My article is almost done," you murmured, retrieving your bag from near the door where he had set it down earlier. He smiled as you stepped around all the other packs of condoms. "I just need to add in my stats and proofread everything."

"Okay," he whispered, unwilling to break the spell that he felt like he was under when he was in your presence. "I can head out." He started to reach for his undershirt and boxer briefs, figuring you could just keep his jersey if you wanted to wear it. 

But Bradley found himself wanting to ask if he could see you again. You saved his phone number this time, and while you were going up to Los Angeles for game three, he was hoping you'd be back in San Diego again. He was almost pissed now that the Padres were up two games to none in the World Series, because the more games that these two teams played, the longer you'd be in California. And LA was a hell of a lot closer to San Diego than New York City was.

As he held his clothes in his hand, you bit your lip and looked at him while your computer booted up. "You can stay. If you want?"

He froze, trying to process what you meant. "Stay?"

"Yeah," you whispered, taking him by the hand. "While I write."

He instantly dropped everything back to the floor as you pulled him to the desk chair. He sat down and then you sat on his naked thigh, entering your impressively long password and pulling up your mostly completed article. You flipped through your notebook to your stats sheet, and Bradley let his hand come to rest on your leg. 

"You wanna help me?" you asked, typing away. "Tell me when Soto was on third."

Bradley skimmed the sheet and found the information. "Bottom of the sixth inning. Right before Grisham hit a double." He leaned in and kissed your neck as you murmured thanks. 

"And when did Hill replace Darvish?"

Bradley read your sloppy notes and smiled. "Halfway through the seventh inning."

"Perfect," you whispered, and Bradley held you quietly as you scrolled to the top of your article and read it out loud. Your voice was captivating, and you somehow made the game he had seen in person even more interesting. He chuckled at the part where you mentioned how the Angels' coach had tripped coming out of the bullpen, and you smiled at him over your shoulder before you finished reading. 

"Damn, Ace," he muttered as you saved it one last time and logged in to submit the article. "That was brilliant." Bradley was getting hard again. Some sort of combination of what you said and how you said it turned him on. 

You closed your computer and laughed softly, nudging his erection with your knee as you turned in his arms. You glanced down at his cock, standing at attention for you, and Bradley could feel himself blushing. "Oh," you gasped, running your fingernails along his length as you grinned. "Eager again."

Bradley groaned and let his head tip back as you kissed his neck. "I think I'm always going to be eager for you. Talking about sports and wearing my Padres jersey are certainly helping."

Your laughter was his undoing as your lips met his warm cheek, and then Bradley watched your face as your pussy cradled his cock so that he was gently throbbing against your clit. "How many more condoms do we have?" you asked, fingers in his chest hair. 

"Nineteen," he replied, voice deep and raspy with need. 

"I'll be right back," you promised, kissing his lips before you stood and grabbed the unused condom from the bed. His jersey was open, offering him a peek here and there of your tits and belly as you moved. Then you were rolling this condom into place and straddling his hips on the chair.

Bradley pulled the jersey open wider so he could watch you sink around his cock. You felt like perfection, and the way your body looked as you took him was making him dizzy.

"You know," you sighed as he bottomed out inside you, "if the Angels start a different pitcher for game three, it could really throw off the Padres plans."

"Yeah?" he asked, stroking the soft skin of your waist as you rolled your hips. "Tell me more."

"Mmm, well, they've been following the same plan the whole season, right?" you asked, your lips grazing his as you spoke. 

"Yeah, they have," Bradley agreed, already ridiculously close as you fed him this brand of dirty talk.

"I think they should try something new and start Hermans instead," you whined, kissing him hard as you rode him.

"Are you trying to turn me on right now, Ace?"

"Yeah," you gasped as you fucked him harder. "Is it working?"

"You know it is, Baby," he groaned, grinding his hips up to meet yours. "Fuck, you already know how to make me wild."

Then you were gasping out pitching stats, your voice breaking as you rode him so well. Bradley was barely keeping it together, and then your fingers were in his hair, tugging at the roots. He knew what to do now; he licked his fingers and brought them to your tight clit, and your eyes went wide. 

"Yes!" you gasped, seemingly surprised that he had you cumming almost instantly. And the sight of your tits bouncing in his face was the last thing he saw before he sucked on your nipples and came hard.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck as his breathing evened out. He was trying to focus on your words, because they sounded very important. "If the Padres sweep the Angels, then I won't be back in San Diego. But if they go to a game six scenario, maybe we can see each other again?"

Yes, your words were very, very important. He wanted you to come back to San Diego, but he was determined to see you even if you didn't. "I could come up to LA. Get a ticket for game three. If you want."

You pulled away from him, and then Bradley was looking up into your surprised eyes. "Yeah?" you asked softly. 

"Sure, Ace," he mumbled, running his knuckles along the soft valley between your breasts. "I'd love to. But it's up to you."

Your voice was soft. "Okay."

Then Bradley kissed your lips and said what was on his mind. "We should keep doing this. Me and you. Until the World Series ends. Until you have to leave California."

He could feel your pussy squeeze his soft cock as you started kissing him and running your fingers through his hair. And a few minutes later, he had you in your hotel room bed, snuggling up with your back pressed to the front of his body as you both fell asleep. 

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

Bradley is out there dropping a cool grand just to try to verify if that was actually a one night stand or not. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 3

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[queen-of-the-avengers]

No More Hiding

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: minor angst, fluff

Summary: After a night of bonding, you and Bucky start the relationship of your dreams. However, you have to hide it from the one person you really want to tell: your twin brother.

Square Filled: confession in a desperate situation (2023) for @buckybingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

There are ups and downs to living in a different state from the one you grew up in. The second you and your twin brother got enough money to move out, you did. You two did everything together growing up so it made sense to move out when he did. He moved because of his job in the Army while you moved to be with him. Your job is remote so you can work anywhere, so it wasn’t a big deal to pack up your life and follow Steve across the country.

The West Coast is so much more different than the East Coast. Warmer weather, colder oceans, and lots and lots of mountains. It’s a nice change from the snow and the humidity, but there’s nothing like home. Your parents are still living in New York, and as much as you FaceTime them, it’s not the same as being there with them.

It would explain why you feel so homesick. Your mom was just telling you that Shelly, one of her neighbors, found out she was free of cancer so she’s throwing a small party for the neighborhood. You were there when she was diagnosed, and you were often the one to help her with the small tasks when her kids couldn’t be there for her.

You and Steve don’t live together but you do live three blocks away from each other. If you want to, you can see him any time you want. He’s stationed in the state of California, so he gets to go home every night and get some weekends to himself, so you hope he’ll be home. Just seeing Steve makes you feel better, so you start the trek to his apartment.

You opt out of driving there for two reasons. The weather is nice and you can use the walk to clear your head. Plus, it’s not far anyway. You and Steve pop by each other’s place all the time so you’re not worried about interrupting anything he’s doing. If he has something important to do, he texts you just in case you plan on coming over.

You knock on the door when you get to his apartment and wait. When the door opens, it’s not Steve but his best friend, Bucky, who is also in the Army. He got injured so he was granted medical leave to recover.

“Oh, hey. Is Steve home?”

“No, he’s out on a date right now and probably won’t be home until tomorrow morning.”

“Oh.” Realization comes over your face and you scrunch in disgust. “Oh.” You sigh and try to will the tears away. “Okay.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, but I just… I had a really bad day and I’m homesick. I was hoping Steve was here because he makes everything better when I get like this. It’s fine. I can go.”

You turn but Bucky stops you.

“Don’t be silly. I’m not Steve but I am company. Want to come in and watch a movie?”

It beats being alone right now. “Sure. Thank you.”

You walk in and find a home on his comfortable couch while Bucky makes two bags of popcorn. You like all kinds of movies so Bucky puts on a comedy to get your mind off family. Before you know it, the popcorn is gone and the movie is over with.

“Thank you for that, Bucky. I’m feeling a little bit better,” you smile.

“Good. I’m glad.”

“I remember when this movie came out in theaters. Steve and I were broke so we broke into the theater and snuck into the movie. We got about halfway through the movie when we were caught, so we booked it out of there so fast before they could call the cops.”

“That sounds like Steve,” Bucky laughs.

“Yeah.” You bite your lower lip and turn to face him. “So, why are you home alone on a Friday night? Where’s your date?”

“Eh, dating isn’t really my scene. I don’t know. The last girl I dated just up and left me without warning. Like she moved away and blocked me on everything. I was never good at the dating stuff, anyway.”

“Yeah, me, too. The last boyfriend I had was so boring. He never did anything spontaneous. I was as good as dead if I stayed in that relationship.”

Bucky looks at the time and chuckles. “Well, we can either watch another movie or I have some board games in my room.”

“Oh, I’m a master at board games.”

“We’ll see about that,” he laughs.

He leaves and comes back with all kinds of board games ranging from Monopoly to Heads Up to Battleship to Uno. You lose track of time until you stretch out your stiff muscles. You look at the time and do a double-take when you see how late it is.

“Holy shit, it’s four in the morning. Wow. Time really does fly when I’m kicking your ass at Uno.” He can’t help but laugh. “I should get home.”

“Did you drive?”

“No, I walked, but it’s fine. I’ll walk back. I don’t mind.” Bucky gets up and he grabs his jacket from the coat hanger on the closet door. “What are you doing?”

“I’m coming with you.” You open your mouth to protest but he won’t hear about it. “Y/N, it’s four in the morning. I don’t care if you live across the street. You’re not walking out there alone in the middle of the night. Come on.”

Despite making it to Steve’s apartment in thirty minutes, you and Bucky make the walk back in fifty. You two just don’t want this night to end.

“Thank you for walking me home.”

“No problem.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I still want a rematch on Battleship.”

You turn to leave but Bucky stops you in your tracks.

“Can I kiss you?”

You turn to him. “What?”

Bucky suddenly grows shy and rubs the back of his neck nervously. “I’m not very good at this part but can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you smile.

Bucky takes two strides to you and he’s in your arms. He pulls you in gently by your face and kisses you like you two haven’t seen each other in months. The second you touch, sparks fly. It might be cliche but you’ve never felt a connection like this before. This is where you belong.

Steve is so overprotective of you, so you’re not sure how he will react to you and Bucky starting a relationship together, so you’ve decided to keep it on the down low for right now. A few weeks of stolen kisses and moments go by when Steve and Bucky are home together for the first time in days. Bucky’s injury healed itself so he was able to go back to work with Steve. He isn’t able to do rigorous work so his workload is light right now.

“Just so you know, I’ll be at Erika’s house tonight. We’re getting a hotel that’s attached to a water park,” Steve says once he’s done packing.

“So, you’ll be gone all weekend?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky takes out his phone while Steve’s talking to text you.

Bucky: Steve is out all weekend. Want to come over?

You: Hell yeah. I’ll be over soon.

“Did you hear anything I said, Buck?”

Bucky looks up like a deer in headlights. “What?”

“I said Y/N might be over. She’s been feeling a bit homesick, and I hope you can keep her company. I worry about her.”

“Yeah, you got it.”

“Thanks, Buck. It means a lot. Oh, don’t forget to ask about this summer.”

“Okay.”

Five minutes after Steve leaves, you arrive at their apartment with a bag in hand. You don’t plan on leaving this place until Steve comes back. It’s been days since you’ve seen him and you’re Bucky-deprived. You jump into his arms and kiss him, and he carries you to the couch with ease. Bucky already has a movie playing but you two don’t do much watching.

You’re in his lap making out with him. He runs his hands over your thighs as his lips move over your neck. You pull his face back to yours so you can kiss him properly when you hear an explosion happening on the TV screen.

“You put this movie on so we can watch it,” you giggle against his lips.

“I got distracted by you.” You laugh and slide off his lap. “Hey, I still have to work it out with my job, but Steve and I are planning on taking a week’s vacation on his girlfriend’s yacht in the summer. Want to come?”

“Ooh, fancy. I’d love to.” You pause. “Wait, what about Steve?”

“What about him?”

“Come on, you know he’d kill you if he found out we were dating.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do. He’s my twin. I’ve never kept secrets from him. He’ll be so mad.”

“Then we don’t go.”

“No, he’s your best friend and you deserve a vacation. Yeah, we’re going to go. It’ll be fun. It’s going to be fine,” you smile and quickly kiss him.

With Bucky and Steve going to work day in and day out, time flies by. Before you know it, the summer is here and you and Bucky have been hiding your relationship from your brother for nearly half a year. Being with Bucky makes you feel alive. He makes you feel good about yourself. He’s spontaneous.

Erika’s family owns two yachts and allowed her to bring a small party onto one of them. She is an experienced sailor but you don’t go far from the docks, only far enough not to bother anyone. She invited a few of her friends and Steve invited you and Bucky. You’ve never been on a boat much less a yacht, and you’re loving every single second of it.

Except for one thing.

Steve is here which means you can’t love Bucky in the way you want to. Bucky is getting pissed that you keep avoiding him whenever Steve is around. All he wants is to love his girl and he can’t do that because you’re scared Steve will kill him.

You sneak downstairs to the kitchen to grab a snack when Bucky comes in.

“This is driving me crazy. We have to tell Steve.”

“Bucky, we’ve been over this.”

“Y/N, it’s been six months. I’m sick of sneaking around.”

He has a point. You’d feel the same if the situation was reversed. Sneaking around was fun at first but now, all it is is a hindrance.

“I guess we can kiss in front of him. If he gets angry, we can say it was a joke or something.” Bucky scoffs, and you drop the knife a little harder than you should have. “What do you want me to do, Bucky?”

“Nothing.”

He turns and leaves, and you feel worse than you already do. After the sun has gone down, everyone is gathered around the small raised firepit. Out of the ten people on board, there are only two couples. Well, three if you weren't so chicken. You’re sitting with one of Erika’s friends half-listening to her talk about her rich-people problems while Bucky is sitting across from you with a beer in hand. Steve is with Erika being all lovey-dovey, and you can see the pot just about to boil over for Bucky.

Erika giggles and Bucky explodes.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Bucky says and stands.

“What are you doing?” you ask and stand, too.

“This.”

Bucky storms over to you and pulls you into his arms. He kisses you like how he should have been doing this entire trip. Steve does a double take when he sees his sister and best friend kissing, and he jumps up from his spot.

“Hey!” Steve pulls Bucky off you. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“She’s my sister!”

“What is it that I’m doing wrong, Steve? Am I a bad best friend?”

“No--”

“Do I treat women poorly?”

“Well, no, but--”

“Give me one good reason why I can’t be with your sister.”

“What if it ends badly? I’d have to choose between you two.”

“It won’t go wrong.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’m in love with her.”

“What?” you ask.

Bucky turns and walks closer to you. “I’m in love with you. Like, I see ourselves having a big white house with a picket fence and five dogs and three horses and chickens and cows and all kinds of animals. I fell in love with you the first time I kissed you. You are my person. Am I yours?”

Everyone is silent as they wait for your response. You smile brightly and try to hide it but it comes out anyway.

“I’m in love with you.”

Bucky pulls you close and kisses you. This time, a round of cheers goes by. You’re done hiding from the world. Bucky is yours and you are his.

“I guess Bucky isn’t a bad choice for a boyfriend,” Steve says when you part.

“I think so, too,” you grin at your boyfriend.

x

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[fxchild]

The Switch

Miles Fairchild x fem!reader

Chapter nine: Make you stay.

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

Miles pov

I think it's been one- no. Two weeks, since Y/n had that.. encounter? It's not like we had sex or anything but I definitely didn't expect to make out on her bed until Flora came banging on her door complaining about a nightmare, while Y/n forced me to hide under her damn bed on the cold floor for half an hour while she made sure Flora went to sleep and didn't bother us again. I was kinda glad we got interrupted if I'm being honest. Even though Y/n pounced on me like a lion to a gazelle, she seemed pretty nervous whenever I kissed her too hard or if I touched her leg. Believe it or not things have been even more awkward than before when we were constantly nipping at each other and now I'm starting to miss the fighting more than the dry tension in the room.

Anyways, I've got about fourteen days to make things less awkward and for her to stay with us for the summer. I heard her talking on the phone a few days back, thinking about taking up a different job in California. Her teacher recommended it or some shit, get into a better college. She's not going to Harvard I know that for sure.

Something that's been pissing me off is that Quint has been messing with her head so now she sleeps with the door off and the lamp lights on. I asked him to lay off but it's not doing much. I've been trying to sneak in to make sure he's not fucking with her in her sleep or anything. She's only sixteen like me after all, he shouldn't be messing with kids our age, especially the ones I want to stay.

Uhm, another thing is that I've been out of it for a day or two. Like my throat is pretty dry and I've had a wicked headache. I swear to god if I wake up tomorrow with a cold I'm gonna be pissed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your pov

It's been about two weeks since Miles and I had that half-assed hookup. Ever since then it's been so awkward. We can't even speak to each other now for more than two sentences before getting freaked out and forgetting what we were talking about. I mean, it's easier to focus on Flora and her work, but at the same time it's boring without being able to pick a fight with Miles. I miss our back and forth bickering because at least it kept us talking and occupied. I have fifteen days before I go back home for the summer, I really wanted to stay but I've gotten more job offerings in new places and I want to go out and explore. Plus, spending the summer in some creepy ass house, with a boy who can't even be in the same room as me for five minutes doesn't seem like the ideal summer. I feel bad for leaving Flora, and I guess Miles because they are all alone with Ms. Grose, who is lucky if she can live another four years. But I need to put myself first, that's what's important. I just wish Miles would talk to me before I leave, because even though we snap at each other, he's been growing on me. I'm not saying I like his stuck up asshole personality but I see how he is with Flora and I sometimes wish he could be able to open up to me like that.

This morning I woke up to the sound of projectile vomiting. I figured it was coming from Flora's room since she ate a lot of chocolate last night. I ran to her room to check on her to find her still asleep in her bed. Then I realized that the puking and groaning was coming from Miles room. I debated on leaving him there to take care of himself since he thinks he's grown and can take care of himself but then I remembered the time I was drunk. The way he drove me home at 2am and stayed outside my door all night in case I felt sick again. I walked into his room and knocked on his closed bathroom door.

"Miles, it's just me. I'm gonna come in okay?" I say as I hear him groan and spit into the toilet. I open the door to see his face almost glued to the toilet bowl, gasping and throwing up. I sit next to him and rub his back, grabbing a few sheets of toilet paper so he can wipe his mouth when he's done. "Get it all out, that's it.." I whisper to him as he continues to gag.

When he finishes he grabs the toilet paper from my hand and wipes his mouth, flushing the toilet. I let him sit on the floor with his back pressed against the wall for a moment as I grab a washcloth, drenching it in cold water. I put it on the back of his neck as he tries to stand up. He walks over to me where I'm putting toothpaste on his toothbrush and handing it to him.

"Make sure to brush your tongue too." I put the cap back on his toothpaste. "I'm gonna get you a new shirt, there's a little bit of puke on it." I point to the spot on his shirt. I walk out of his room and open his closet, looking for an old shirt in the piles on the floor. Miles walks back into the room and curls up on his mattress with his washcloth in his hands. I didn't even realize he came back into the room until he spoke up and groaned.

"Jesus it's fucking freezing in here.." I turned around to see him shirtless, breathing heavily and laying down. I grab a random green shirt and walk over to his mattress.

"No Miles, sit up you have to let your stomach settle for a bit." I prop his pillows against the wall and help him sit up a bit. I let him put his new shirt on and pulled the covers up to his waist. I felt his forehead and winced at his temperature. "Miles, you're really hot." I sighed and bit my bottom lip trying to think of how to take care of him.

He let out a chuckle and wrapped a hand over his stomach. "I'm hot? Thanks.." I frown at him since this isn't something to be joking about. "Not funny." I say with pursed lips and put the washcloth on his forehead.

"I'm gonna go to the store to get you some medicine. Flora used it the last time she was sick. Do you want me to pick you up something?" I put my hands on my hips and waited for his response.

He sat there for a second to think, "Am I even allowed to eat anything? Like I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to eat when you're sick." He tilted his head, squinting his eyes.

"You're allowed to eat Miles but only if you feel up for it. I can pick you up some grits, or popsicles? Do you sound up for that when you get your appetite back?" I rub the back of my neck, giving him a sympathetic look.

"I'm not hungry..I-I don't care okay? I'll be fine by tomorrow." He shakes his head and waves his hand in the air.

"Okay, well I'm still going to the store because I'm not putting up with your whining later. I'll be back in an hour okay?" I shrug and ruffle his hair lightly before trying to smack my hands away.

I brush my teeth, grab my keys and put on some slippers. I head out to the car to start for the store.

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

Miles pov

She couldn't have taken any fucking longer to get back from the store could she? I'm sitting in my bed, trying my best for an hour to hold my stomach until she comes back but it's getting too painful. I ran to the bathroom throwing up nothing but stomach acid. I was panting and almost crying from the pain, it felt like my stomach was twisting. Y/n hears me gagging and rushes into the bathroom to rub my back and hold back my hair. When I'm done, there's tears in my eyes from the pain and she gives me this stupid sad look like she feels sorry for me or some dumb shit. I sit on my bathroom counter as she hands me my toothbrush again. She opens up a small can of Gingerale and puts it on my nightstand.

"You don't have to drink it now, but if your stomach feels funny again try some. It works trust me." She smiles and feels my forehead again to see if my fever had gone down a little. I sit there under the covers with my head against the wall as Y/n sits at the end of my mattress reading a book.

"What's that?" I say weakly, motioning to the book. I catch her attention and she smiles. "A book?" She giggles trying to be funny or something.

"Yeah, no shit." I chuckle and she gives me an unamused look. So apparently I'm not allowed to be funny anymore I guess. "What's it about?"

"It's about a prince trying to find his princess through a dream. It's really cute." She gets up to sit next to me on the mattress, showing me the blurb.

"Oh.. fantasy?" I mutter out as a question.

"Yeah, I like fantasy. You don't?" She tilts her head to look at me, tabbing her book before closing it. I shrug, "I mean, it's not bad but I just can't ever get into it."

"Well maybe that's because you haven't read a good one." She smirks, and for a second I feel like we aren't talking about books. I shook my head and stayed silent for a few minutes.

"You know, I usually get sick in the summer." I give her a side glance. I lied, I never get sick. This was the first time in probably a year and a half I've gotten sick. "I mean, who's gonna get me a cold washcloth and rub my back when I'm throwing up?" I smirk at her slightly.

"Ms. Grose?" She jokes and I roll my eyes.

"Be serious Y/n. She's so old I think she's gonna kick the bucket any day now. And when she does that, who's gonna help me take care of Flora? I don't have any parents you know." I sit up more and turn to face her, putting my hands in my lap.

She sighs and turns to face me. "Who said I was leaving?" She gives me a confused look.

"Y/n I heard you on the phone. I mean California seems nice, but is that what you really want?" I give her a dead eyed look and raise a brow.

She studies my face letting out a deep breath, "Miles, you don't even like having me around. We fight all the time, why do you want me around?" She shakes her head and leans back a little bit.

"Come on, Flora will miss you. She'll be upset that you aren't coming back. I mean she really loves you, fuck, she wants you to be her mother! She needs you, Y/n- I-I need you okay? I can't even take care of myself while I'm sick and you expect me to take care of myself, a whole property and a little girl? I mean, jesus, what do I have to do to make you stay?" I spurt out quickly, motioning my hands everywhere with dramatic tones.

She smiles for a moment and grabs my hand, "You just did." She gives me a sincere look, like we finally came to an agreement. I let out a relieved sigh I didn't even know I was holding and she giggled. "Why do we fight so much? Everything would be so much easier if we just listened to each other, you know?" She asks even though she sounds like she already knows her own reason.

"I think you know why I do it.." I look at my red candles I caught her staring at one day in particular when she first came into my room.

She looked at the candles then back at my eyes. "Because you don't know how to treat people?" She barely whispered out. She looked into my eyes for a moment before speaking once more. "I only pick fights with you cause I think you're kinda cute." She admits, leaning back again.

I raise a brow, "You think I'm cute?" I chuckle and she let's go of my hand, she's trying to bite back a smile.

"Yeah, you're cute. So what?" She smirks and we stare at each other. I think we were both waiting for one of us to do something, anything. But no one moved or spoke. After a moment of my silence she got up and put the covers back over my waist. "You should get some rest, it's not good to stay up when you're delirious." She gave me a dejected look and turned off my lamp.

"I'm not delirious." I grab her wrist gently and assure her.

"You're sick, Miles." She gives me a stern tone, and eyes me down to let go of her wrist.

"I know what I'm saying, Y/n." I gulp and give her the smallest smile I could muster and let go of her wrist, laying back into the pillows. She slides a hand on my forehead and it goes into my curls. She kissed my forehead and walked to the door.

"Get some sleep, call me if you need anything okay?" She gave me a sad smile and walked out of the room.

Now she was just confusing me because did she just reject me without either of us talking about dating? I don't think I asked her out but I think I wanted to. I want to I really do, but how the hell am I supposed to do that when she can't take me seriously? I better get over this damn sickness soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi hi! It's fxchild back again with another chapter! Sorry if this is bad I had to rewrite it THREE times because it kept god damn deleting. This took me 2 hours and 15 minutes to write (I timed it yes) so hopefully you enjoyed it. Plsplspls if you did not see my other post to put some requests in because this will be one of the last chapters until Mr. Fairchild finishes his story. I literally do not care what you ask me to write as long as it's not acc insane. If my requests don't work PLEASE dm me I will answer because no one texts me like ever ! Anyways, I love you guys so so much 💕 thank you for continuing to motivate me to write.

-fxchild

[liaromancewriter]

Winter Wonderland

Premise: Cassie and Ethan enjoy the holiday decorations around town, leading to a candid conversation about their relationship.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,475

A/N: This is set during the Secret Dating phase in Lia Land. Submission for @choicesholidays Winter 2024 and @choicesjanuary2025 prompt "hot chocolate:

Cassie Valentine discreetly glanced at her wristwatch beneath the table, wondering if there was still a chance to salvage her evening plans.

She had already changed into street clothes an hour ago and was ready to clock out when she received a page to report to the Diagnostics Team office. Dr. Ramsey had been clear from the start. The team’s schedule was unpredictable, and all members had to forego time off as needed.

As the latest and the most junior member, Cassie had to flex more than others since she was juggling a tough residency and diagnostics fellowship. Still, there was an upside to all the time spent at work—she got to do it with her boyfriend.

Not that anyone else knew the delectable Ethan Ramsey was hers, she mused with secret amusement. She knew, and that was all that mattered.

She side-eyed Ethan at the front of the conference table, facing the videoconference screen she hadn’t known existed until today. His eyes were alive with curiosity and interest as they consulted with a colleague in California. The virtual consult would determine if the team was required on-site for the diagnosis.

Cassie wouldn’t mind a couple of days of sunshine. Winter had Boston firmly in its grip. Of course, there was something magical about walking through a winter wonderland during the holiday season. Twinkling lights strung on palm trees didn’t have the same appeal as snow-dusted oak trees.

“Thank you, Dr. Amherst. We’ll review the patient file and get back to you tomorrow.”

Ethan wrapped up the call, and Cassie refocused her attention on the job at hand. She really hoped tomorrow didn’t mean they would be working late into the night. But, with this team, you never knew.

“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Baz said, stretching his arms, “but I could use a break before we work on the diagnosis.”

“I agree,” June said. “I’d rather come in early and approach the case with fresh eyes.”

Cassie held her breath in anticipation. Ethan seemed to hesitate, but then he nodded in agreement.

“Let’s pick this up tomorrow morning. Not much else we can do today.”

Baz and June wasted no time gathering their things and heading out. Cassie wasn’t far behind, but she stopped when she saw Ethan sit down at his desk and flip open the patient file.

“It’s late, Ethan,” she said, not hiding her exasperation. “Are you really planning to keep working?”

“I just want to go over things while they’re still fresh in my mind,” he said, sliding on his glasses.

He looked up at her. “Go home, Cassie. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not going home,” she said, settling into the seat across from him. “I’m heading to Faneuil Hall to check out the Christmas tree and holiday decorations. Come with me.”

Ethan smirked, amused. “Isn’t that for tourists?”

“And for doctors who’ve spent fourteen-plus hours in a space that smells like antiseptic. I went last year, and it was nice.”

He rolled his eyes. “I see those decorations every day on my way to work. I’ll pass.”

“Fine,” Cassie said, pulling out her phone. “If you change your mind, you’ll know where to find me.”

When his phone pinged, Ethan glanced at the screen. “What’s this?”

“I just shared my location with you,” she explained. “I’ll keep it on until I get home.”

Almost ten minutes later, Cassie stepped out of the car, thanked her rideshare driver, and drew in a deep breath of the crisp evening air.

Just what I needed, she thought, feeling the tiredness fade away.

The scent of roasted chestnuts and pine mingled with the faint melody of holiday carolers stationed near Quincy Market. Strings of twinkling white and multicolored lights wound their way around the lampposts and tree trunks, casting a soft glow on the historic architecture.

Huddled inside her thick parka, Cassie trekked down the cobblestone streets, her boots crunching softly against the uneven stones as she admired the holiday wreaths adorning shop doors, their vibrant ribbons fluttering in the brisk evening breeze.

Tourists exclaimed excitedly at storefronts showcasing meticulously arranged scenes of snow-covered villages, glittering ornaments and festive garlands. Meanwhile, hardy Bostonians paid no mind to the spectacle, staying laser-focused on their holiday shopping lists.

Cassie treated herself to a steaming cup of hot chocolate and a bag of tiny, freshly fried donuts before settling onto a bench outside Faneuil Hall to people-watch.

A massive Christmas tree towered over the square, draped in a cascade of shimmering gold and silver lights that seemed to light up the night sky. Nearby, a family of four posed for a picture in front of an illuminated reindeer installation while a couple took a selfie, their cheeks rosy from the cold as they huddled close.

“Got room for one more?”

Cassie’s heart lifted at the sound of her lover's familiar voice. She turned to see Ethan and couldn’t help but break into a wide smile.

“Always.” She shifted to make room for him beside her.

“Christ! It’s fuckin’ cold tonight,” he shuddered as the wind picked up.

“You should’ve grabbed a hot chocolate on the way,” Cassie teased, taking an exaggerated sip from hers. “Here.”

She offered him the bag of still-warm donuts, grinning when a dusting of sugar landed on his coat and the corner of his mouth as he took a bite.

“Relax, babe,” she said with a laugh as he muttered about the mess, brushing away the sugar particles with a napkin. “You missed a spot.”

Cassie leaned in and licked the sugar from the corner of his lips. Ethan turned his head, his lips brushing against hers, and then he placed two fingers under her chin, holding her in place as he kissed her deeply and without hesitation.

Firecrackers burst in the distance—or was it her racing heartbeat and the rush of blood to her head? Cassie didn’t know or care as she fell into the moment.

All too soon, their lips drifted apart and the kiss faded into a whisper as their foreheads touched, sharing a quiet, unspoken connection.

“Excuse me?” a man’s voice interrupted. Cassie glanced up to see the other half of the couple who had been taking selfies earlier. “Sorry to disturb you, but could you…?”

He held out his phone to Ethan, then glanced uncertainly back at his girlfriend. Cassie grinned at Ethan’s hesitation and decided to take pity on him.

“I’ll do it,” she offered, stepping forward.

She took a few photos as the couple wrapped their arms around each other and struck playful poses for the camera. The last photo had them kissing softly under the Christmas tree lights. Cassie thought it might be the best one of all, envying the openness of their relationship.

As the couple walked away, thanking her with bright smiles, Cassie sighed wistfully and settled back onto the bench beside Ethan.

“What’s that sigh about?” he asked, raising a curious brow.

“Nothing,” she said, avoiding his gaze as she gathered the empty cup and paper bag to toss in the trash.

“Do you wish we weren’t keeping our relationship secret?”

Cassie was always amazed at how astutely Ethan could read her feelings. She supposed it was inevitable when two people had been in an intimate relationship of one type or another for almost nine months.

“We’re private people.”

“That’s not what I asked, Cassie.” He took her hand, intertwining their fingers. “Do you want to go public?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Our families and my close friends know. It should be enough.”

“But…?”

Cassie rolled her eyes. He could be relentless, like a dog with a bone. She knew he wouldn’t drop it easily.

“But I hate how the nurses flirt with you at work while I have to pretend it doesn’t bother me. Or how, if we took a selfie right now, I couldn’t post it on Picta because, as far as the world knows, I’m single.”

“I’m not posing for a selfie on Picta under any circumstances,” Ethan murmured.

“Wanna bet?” she shot back, glaring at him.

Ethan smirked, his lips twitching as if to hold back a retort. Instead, he leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. “You’d lose that bet, Dr. Valentine.”

Cassie raised an eyebrow, a challenge glinting in her eyes. “Careful, babe. I always play to win.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Come on, let’s get out of here before I freeze my balls off sitting on this icy bench.”

She grabbed her things and fell into step beside him, their fingers brushing but not quite holding. As they walked into the twinkling glow of the holiday lights, Cassie glanced at him, a quiet smile tugging at her lips.

Maybe the world didn’t need to know about them just yet. Moments like this were enough.

A/N: In case you were wondering. Ethan lost that bet. 😂

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

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @justyourusualash @lady-calypso @kyra75 @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @snoopdogcone @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @loreofyore

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

[remusluvr]

say it ain't so | steve harrington

summary: Byers reader and Steve's last night together before leaving for California. content: female reader, angst, f oral, sex, no usage of y/n

The bedroom you have lived in for the last eighteen years is nearly completely vacant. All that's left in it is your bed and your duffle bag for the trip. It's weird seeing your once vibrant room so dull.

"I don't like it," you say, crossing your arms as you stand in the doorway whilst Steve is laid out on your bed.

"Neither do I, none of your personality is in here anymore," Steve sighs before proceeding to sit up. You shut the door behind you to go sit with him.

Tomorrow morning you'll be in a car driving to California with your family. There was no other choice for you since you still have your senior year to complete, which means you have to leave Steve behind for nearly an entire year.

Curling yourself into his lap, his arms wrap around you. You two have already discussed visiting each other many times, how he'll fly out to you and you'll fly back to Hawkins to see him. And you and he have already made spring break plans for you to come back to Hawkins for nearly two weeks.

It'll work, you'll work.

Your heart aches at the mere idea of not being able to see him every day, or hear his voice, or visit him at work, or have him climb through your bedroom window so you two can have sleepovers. Usually, Joyce was a lot more strict about sleepovers with significant others but with you leaving tomorrow, it's okay for tonight.

All you want is for this night to never end so you never have to leave Steve.

His hand rakes through your hair as you lay on him, "I'm going to miss you so fucking much."

You're already quite emotional that you have to leave everything and everyone you've ever known and Steve is simultaneously making it worse and better. He turns your face up to look at him and he coos down at you when he notices the tears welling in the corners of your eyes.

"It's just not fair, Stevie. Why can't I just live at your house for the rest of the school year? You can work at the video store, I'll go to school, and then at night, we sleep in the same bed like we live together."

"I know, baby. It's not fair at all. But you'll love California and imagine when I come to visit. We'll drive to the beach and spend the whole day there. Just you and me."

"That'll be nice," you hum. The image is crisp in your mind and you're giddy about it. Steve always knows exactly what you need to hear. "Ah, and then you'll come back to the house and I'll show you my new room. I'm not sure how I want to decorate yet."

"Send me pictures. I wanna see everything you get up to out there."

"That's such a good idea but I don't have a camera," you whine, flopping your head down onto his shoulder. He laughs and moves you off of him. "Where are you going?"

He reaches under the bed where he's hidden your going away present. A camera, a stack of envelopes, paper, pens, and stamps. The perfect concoction for when your relationship is about to go long distance.

"I got myself the same stuff. I expect at least one letter a week and at least five phone calls a day," he proclaims, watching as you smile down into the box. You laugh before setting the box to the side and climbing back to him. "Not an ideal situation by any means but everything will be fine. I promise."

You kiss him from your position in his lap. He kisses back with even more fervor. Your hands drape themselves around his neck as his grab at your hips. Any time you kiss Steve, it makes you dizzy but especially now. When he's putting everything unsaid into this kiss, how could it not?

It hits you as he flips you over onto your back that this is the last time you'll be able to do this in a while. Your lips stutter against his and he pulls back, thumb coming up to rub over them. There's no need to bring down his mood by addressing the elephant in the room. Tonight, you'll just enjoy the fact that he's here.

"So pretty," he whispers, leaning down again for a quick kiss before his thumbs slip just underneath the waistband of your shorts so he can slide them down. He moves slowly, deliberately, so he can savor this moment forever.

And once they're off and thrown to the side, he's laying on the bed between your legs. His lips are like fire on your legs as he kisses a path up to where you want him the most. He won't let you rush him though, making sure to take his sweet ol' time to nip at your inner thighs.

He's cruel with his teasing, fingers ghosting idly over your panties. Pulling down your underwear has his vision glazing over as he focuses in on the very thing he's been planning since the beginning.

"It'll be hard, very hard, to not be able to eat this pussy any time I want," he sighs, leaning in to lick at your clit. You're panting from all this teasing and his words don't help at all. Reaching down, your fingers tangle into his hair, pulling him closer to you. He grins into you, finally giving you what you want.

If there's anything Steve is the best at it is eating you out. He goes to town, sloppy and wet just to make you feel your very best. His lips suction around your clit before moving down to dip his tongue into you. It's world-changing. You don't know how you'll survive months without him.

Your thighs squeeze his head and he moans, letting the vibration move through you. It has your legs shaking as his hands grip at your thighs, keeping them spread enough for him to do his job properly. He loves it though, loves every little thing you do.

"Steve!" you whine, remembering that there are other people in this house but when you're getting the best head of your life, there's bound to be escaped noises. Steve is a cocky boy and you can feel his smile against you. It's boosting his ego knowing you're having this much trouble keeping it down.

You don't even warn him at all before cumming but he knows. Steve always knows. From the clench of your fingers in his hair, to your hips bucking into his face, and your sudden gasp of breath it's not hard to figure out. And he takes everything you give him, watching as you bite down on the pillow beside you so you don't wake the whole house. There's nothing more that he wants right now than to hear you, it's killing him.

He huffs as he settles in next to you, letting you cuddle into him so you can regain some of your breathing.

"Wonder if those cameras do video cause I don't how I'll last without hearing your pretty sounds for so long," he groans, tossing his head back against your headboard. You giggle as you look up at him. You press upward, sucking at his neck whilst you climb into his lap.

"We can always call each other," you whisper directly beside his ear, biting at it for extra measure, "Think I'm getting my own phone for my room."

"P-perfect, baby." He's whining quietly as you continue the assault on his neck, maybe getting too carried away but the look on his face is worth it. There is still a t-shirt and pajama pants on him and while the fabric may feel nice on your bare cunt, you need him out of them immediately.

"Take your shirt off for me, Stevie?" It's off before you can even make it down the bed at all to pull at his pants. He chastises you for teasing but it's no different than what he was doing. "Poor baby, you're so hard."

He's panting and it feels nice to be the one in control of him. Your fingers run over his tip, leaving him to chase your touch.

"Please, put me out of my misery, sweetheart." Smiling at him, you do. His inhale is sharp once he's inside you. You lean your forehead on his shoulder as you get used to him. "You're my lovely girl, god, I love you so much."

He grips onto your hips, helping you bounce on him. All of your confidence faded away as soon as you got what you wanted, turning to mush instead. You just need him to take care of you.

It doesn't take all that long before you're close again, sensitive from your first orgasm. And the way you're clenching around him has right there with you. His lips press messily onto yours as he tries to fight off his impending orgasm so this doesn't have to end. Your hands are glued to the sides of his face and he's never felt this loved.

"Mmpfh, g-gonna cum. W-where you want it?" he groans into your lips.

"Inside please," you whine, grinding down onto him to meet his thrusts, "Please, I want it. I'll get the m-morning-after pill."

It's too much for Steve and he cums with a loud moan that you have to muffle by clamping your hands over his mouth. You don't blame him because you have to bite down on his shoulder as you finish. And when you're both done, he's so drunk off of you that he whines when you get off his lap.

"I don't want you to leave me," Steve frowns as you lay on his chest.

"I know. But I'm not gone forever, you're not losing me." He's still upset and he will be for the next few months as he gets used to it. All he can think about is how much money he's about to make because that's all he'll be doing, work. But he'd be okay with being the poorest man in the world if it meant that you were with him.

"We should get some sleep since you have to be up early," he instructs, trying to be firm and ignore the ache in his chest. Once he's asleep, he'll have to wake up to you leaving him and he's not ready. He'll never be ready and you're not ready but it's what will happen.

"Probably. I love you."

"I love you more."

[matchayogitea]

Stay - Dean Winchester x Reader

You and Dean are forced to share a bed after a hunt, and you talk in your sleep. You end up saying too much, and you confess your feelings for him.

It was late evening when you and Dean pulled up into the parking lot of a cheap motel on the border between California and Oregon, and you were both exhausted.

It had been a long day. You two had set off in the morning for a hunt, a simple case all things considered (a stubborn poltergeist), but you had been on hunt after hunt for weeks with barely any rest and it was starting to take its toll. Dean had insisted Sam stayed at Bobby's since he had a broken wrist that needed to heal and you had agreed, hence why only the two of you had set off on this case.

Now that it was over, you felt like you could sleep for three days in a row.

"Maybe we should actually get out of the car…?" Dean suggested, neither of you moving.

You let out a chuckle. "Right. I'm so tired I can't think straight."

"Let's sleep in tomorrow, alright? Don't come knocking at my door before midday."

"Don't you come knocking at my door before midday!" you smiled, finally getting out of the car and grabbing your bag, heading toward the motel.

As soon as the receptionist saw you he plastered a fake smile on his face and welcomed you with an enthusiastic Good evening! that sounded way too cheerful and proceeded to tell you that you two were lucky, the motel only had one room left.

"Does the room have separate beds?" You asked, glancing at Dean out of the corner of your eye. When you and the Winchesters went on hunts you would usually get your own room while Sam and Dean shared one.

"I'm afraid not, there's only one bed…" the receptionist trailed off and Dean immediately interjected: "We'll take it." He moved his gaze to you: "We're exhausted, I don't feel like driving in search of another motel. Let's just stay here."

You nodded. You could barely stand and you certainly didn't feel like driving, either.

__________________________________

"Dean? Do you mind if I shower first?" You asked almost timidly, looking around the room. It was small and fairly spartan, but at least it smelled and looked clean.

"Go ahead, I think I'll go get some food at the vending machine down the hall. Want anything?"

You could have eaten, but at the same time you really were not in the mood for junk food, so you shook your head and went to take a shower. When you were done, you changed into a pair of shorts and a large T-shirt, feeling even more sleepy.

"I feel like a new woman," you muttered as you exited the bathroom and reached Dean, sprawled out on the bed, munching on some kind of bar.

"I take it hot water actually works this time?" he grinned, referring to the last hunt when you stopped at a motel with horrific bathrooms.

"Yeah, decent water pressure too. Go ahead, I'm done!"

Dean nodded and left, while you made yourself comfortable under the duvet. Then it hit you. Only one bed, not even that big. And you and Dean, sharing it. Sleeping really close to each other. Practically touching.

You closed your eyes and sighed, hoping falling asleep wouldn't prove difficult. You were worried you'd stay awake, feeling self-conscious about your proximity… but then, you heard him sing in the shower and started to gradually relax. His voice was so comforting. It was so deep and husky, so beautiful…

You drifted off to sleep.

_________________________________

"Hey, Y/N, are you-"

Dean emerged from the bathroom and stopped talking when he noticed you were out like a light. He smiled to himself and turned off the lights as he made himself comfortable beside you.

He felt a little odd. You two had shared a bed before, but a much bigger one and a long time in the past. He propped himself up on his elbow to take a good look at your relaxed face. You deserved a break, after the long month you had had.

He was tempted to reach out and brush a strand of hair away from your face, but he didn't want to wake you. He let out a little sigh, turning on his side to face away from you. Lately he had been feeling way too strongly about you, and he was worried. He was worried because he didn't want to fuck up and ruin your friendship, but at the same time he longed for you, and with each passing day it kept getting harder and harder to keep his feelings to himself.

"Dean…"

You mumbled something unintelligible and Dean rolled on your side to face you. "Sorry, did I wake you, Y/N?"

Silence. The room wasn't completely dark and he could see the expression on your sleeping face hadn't changed. Huh. Must be talking in her sleep.

"I wonder if Dean has realized…"

Dean stiffened. What were you talking about? "Realized what?" he whispered, suddenly attentive.

"I am so in love with him…"

Dean's eyes widened and he sat up in bed, feeling more awake than ever. "You… you're in love with Dean? Since when?"

You didn't say anything at first, but eventually muttered: "I can't even remember… it's been so long…"

He reached out with his arm with the intention to wake you, but then stopped. He couldn't do that.

"I am in love with Dean… but I'm not good enough for him… so I'll never tell him," you mumbled. "He's so handsome… and strong… and he has the biggest heart… how could I not love him?"

Dean couldn't believe your words. He wanted to ask more, but he suddenly felt guilty about questioning you when you didn't even realize what you were doing. And what you'd said about not being good enough hurt, because it was the other way around. He believed he didn't deserve someone like you.

You went silent after that, and Dean tried to get to sleep.

Despite his exhaustion, he stayed awake for almost an hour, tossing and turning and wishing it was morning already.

_______________________________

"Dean, you look tired. I hope I wasn't moving in my sleep, keeping you awake."

He cleared his throat and shook his head. "You weren't moving in your sleep," he replied, looking down at his plate. Instead of scarfing down breakfast like he normally would, it was taking him forever to get through his eggs and bacon. You had almost finished your pancakes.

"Well… did you have trouble sleeping?" you asked curiously, eyeing him intently. He did look tired, but still gorgeous. The only thing that gave away his lack of sleep was the bags under his eyes, and even then, he looked better than 99% of the population.

"I… well… it's just…"

You raised an eyebrow. He had been acting odd all morning, ever since you woke up. You had moved closer to him while you slept, and when you opened your eyes you realized you were snuggling against him, but he was asleep and you had moved away immediately, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. But maybe he had noticed, and that was why he was acting weird?

"I'm sorry if I got too close to you in bed… I just move a lot when I sleep and-"

"No, that's not it," he cut you off, biting his lip. "You were talking in your sleep last night."

"Oh God, did I keep you up? I'm so sorry, Dean! You should have woken me-"

"No, it was only a few minutes, you didn't speak for long. But you said… something."

You didn't like where this was going one bit. Pretending to not be affected, you gulped down some coffee and waited for him to elaborate further.

"You said some things about me, and… they were all compliments, huge compliments, and you also said…" Dean hesitated. He hated the thought of potentially making you uncomfortable, but he just had to tell you. He couldn't pretend he hadn't heard, especially because he was in love with you, too! "You said you were in love… with me." he whispered, staring into your eyes as if he was mesmerized.

You tensed up immediately and dropped your fork. You could deny it, sure, but you doubted Dean would believe you. Despite not remembering what you'd said in your sleep, you were sure everything had been 100% the truth.

You were in trouble.

"I…" You lowered your gaze, feeling extremely embarrassed. You were at a loss for words.

"Y/N, please, look at me."

You gingerly looked up, not sure what to expect, but Dean's gaze was warm and loving and he was smiling.

"It made me happy… to hear you say those things."

"Oh…"

He reached out his hand to grab yours and squeezed it lightly. "And… it also made me sad."

Of course. He's going to say he loves me like a sister. "I'm sorry, Dean…"

"Sorry?" he frowned. "No, it's… I meant it made me sad because you said you weren't good enough for me, and that's a lie. I think the opposite."

What?

"I think I am not good enough for you."

You must have looked puzzled, because Dean smiled before adding: "I feel the same way you do."

You blinked. You must have misheard. "You-what?"

Dean let out a little laugh and reached over, gently pressing his lips on yours. It only lasted a moment, but he tasted good. Like coffee.

"I'm in love with you, Y/N," he said firmly. "And… I'm happy we shared a room and I'm happy you talk in your sleep, cause God knows how long we would have gone on pretending if this hadn't happened."

You couldn't believe it. As Dean stared at you expectantly, you willed yourself to say something to break the silence. "I guess we can keep sharing a room from now on?"

Dean laughed and reached over again, this time whispering in your ear. "You can count on it, sweetheart. Now what do you say we leave the diner and make up for lost time?"

You got up so quickly you almost bumped your knee against the table and as you followed Dean outside you silently thanked all the gods you didn't believe in for your useless ability of sleep talking.

[cloveroctobers]

starting to get to you — 9. Paul Cho (beef) [Winter Prompts]

A/N: Y’all have been asking for more Paul since forever and here’s me delivering it year(s)later. My concept of time has been trash since 2020 don’t mind me. I know this won’t probably do much in the notes department but I don’t really have anybody else to write about tbh. Also haven’t heard anything else on season 2 and if that’s still a go but they’re changing the storylines to anthology anyway which is unfortunate for Danny & Paul’s story and ironic since that’s pretty much all I write. At least we get to see YM in the last of us? Anyways! Happy new year to you all 🩵

~ @cigarettesandcoffeex I thought you might like a tag 😊

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & I’m using: DIALOGUE PROMPTS — "Someone spiked the eggnog!" + “Yeah, yeah i know, you hate Christmas.”

WARNINGS: language + innuendos, grumpy reader! & minor use of possible incorrect German.

<- read my previous winter anthology prompt here.

⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･

At the holiday market was honestly the last place you wanted to be but having a best friend—who was broke mind you—who also adored Christmas was basically a set up to begin with. The both of you arrived to the festivities right before the sun set, since you had to go to work and Paul was gracious enough to give you an hour to decompress before bringing you out to interact with more humans.

You were content staying in, hate watching crappy Christmas rom coms, having some snacks, catching a few naps that you knew would hit perfectly since you had the day off tomorrow but you should have known Paul would make you his number one target to hang out with him. It’s not like you hated Paul’s presence by any means, he wouldn’t be your friend if you did, it’s just that Christmas wasn’t your thing.

And this year in particular felt heavier for some reason. Like you weren’t meant to enjoy the gift that is Christmas but you put on a happy face, caught an uber together down where the holiday market was held, and braced yourself against the chill in the California air.

It felt like the both of you had been here for hours, walking down the large street of vendors filled with too many people. Paul ended up pulling you off to a less crowded area so you could try the beverage he brought without anyone bumping your elbow in the process. Placing your lips against the rim, Paul watched you as if you were his favorite tv show, anticipating your reaction as you tasted the contents.

You’re coughing as soon as you do, “Someone spiked the eggnog!"

Paul furrows his brows first, plucking the cup from your hand and sips himself, before a grin appears on his face, “Whoa, you’re right! Guess that’s why this was called: Esther’s spunky Nog.”

Giving him a blank expression, Paul just laughs further before shoving a hand into the pocket of his hoodie and nudging his head for the both of you to continue, “C‘Mon, I heard there’s a mini tree decoration competition. Maybe that’s more your vibe.”

“Maybe if I get to stomp them out after everyone puts up the decorations?” You countered as you fall into step with Paul.

He rolls his eyes at you, taking another sip of the disgusting beverage, “I forgot how much of a grinch you are…you’re worse than Danny and that says a lot.”

Scoffing you say, “Am I supposed to be offended?”

“…I would be.” Paul mutters just for you to jam your elbow into his hip, “Ow! Hey! I’m just being honest.”

“And I’m being honest about Christmas being too much that it actually makes me want to gag.”

“I thought you didn’t have a gag reflex?” The twenty something year old man jokes, which immediately makes you walk off ahead of him.

Yet he didn’t want to lose you in the sea of people, however due to his height, he had the advantage if he did. Paul gives you your space for a little, enjoying the soft bells of music that plays from overhead speakers tucked somewhere above your heads, embracing the chilly air that Californians would often label as cold but wouldn’t last a day in areas that actually were in the winter, and he did find himself smiling at a family in particular that felt familiar until his senses pull him back to you.

You’re being led off to one of the stalls, disappearing beneath the tent and Paul has no problem pushing through people to get to you. Once inside the surprisingly warm tent, he sees you sitting in a chair chatting with a woman who has a heavy German accent, holding up a gingerbread heart.

“You good?” Paul questions, making your attention shift from the woman to him.

The heavy set woman who is dressed traditionally beams at the sight of Paul as she winks at you, “Liebling.”

Is all Paul catches and you’re shaking your head, which lets Paul know that you understand what’s being said and he’s out of the loop. The German woman pulls Paul by the wrist and shoves him into the space beside you.

“Nice to meet you too.” Paul snorts as the woman yells for the young man with the camera, while Paul slouched down beside you and leans towards you, “Guess you really have no choice but to get in the Christmas spirit now, huh?”

Crossing your arms you side eyed the man in the rolled beanie, “Little do you know, I already asked Mrs. Adelheid if she has any Krampus masks.”

It was Paul’s turn to give you a blank stare while you smiled sweetly at him, “What the fuck? That’s not very Christmas of you.”

“It is in Germany.” You bump his shoulder, smiling to yourself while Paul rolls his eyes.

Mrs. Adelheid comes back questioning and motioning what you two wanted on the gingerbread heart. Paul got the gist, pressing his elbows into his knees and letting a smirk grace his lips, “What about…y/n loves Paul? X-Mas ‘22.”

The annoyance on your face is evident while Mrs. Adelheid smiles at you two, before letting out a yell for the young teen to step forward and take their picture. Paul tosses an arm across your shoulder, leaning back against the chair and grinning while roughly pulling you into his side that you have to hold onto his chest so you don’t double over as you quickly look up at him. The camera flashes before you know it, making you call out to the anxious teen.

“Hey, I wasn’t ready!”

Before you translate it into the bit of German that you know. Studying photo journalism abroad in Germany was a tale within itself but it was definitely a learning experience.

“1 hour.” Mrs. Adelheid informs the two after shooing her son off, “You’re welcome to stay and browse.”

Paul dips his head at the woman while you pull yourself away from under his arm. He lets his hand rest against his thigh, taking another sip of the warm spiked drink, smiling in secret amusement.

“How many likes do you think our gingerbread heart is going to get?” He asks.

Shaking your head you immediately reply, “You’re not posting that. We don’t even know how the picture came out.”

You understand getting raw footage but you can only wonder how this footage appeared.

“Quit your worrying, we’re hot and there’s no such thing as bad photos if you know your angles. And I would hope the kid would.”

“Seems like he’s forced to be here…something I can relate to so who knows?!” You throw your hands up in the air, “And I don’t need a repeat of your little fangirls threatening me on every social media account they stalk me on.”

Paul rubs at the back of his neck, “I did say I was sorry about that and made it clear to stream that no harassment towards you is cool…unless it’s from me of course.”

Your best friend was doing so well until he threw that last bit into it. It was during the summer time when Paul’s content creation slowly started to take off and people on the internet can definitely be more vicious since they felt like they had a screen that protects them. Even had a few “dedicated” fans pull up on you at work once, which was honestly the last straw and caused you to not want to be part of any streams Paul had going on.

He definitely understood and didn’t blame you.

The both of you sat in silence for a while, seeing the constant movement of attendees from outside the open tent. A few people would come in to browse and one ended up purchasing a wooden toy for their twins before it became quiet once more. Paul eventually got to his feet, looking around the vendor himself, knowing he couldn’t afford to purchase anything else right now but window shopping didn’t hurt.

You decided to browse your phone instead until you heard Paul’s booming voice, “Oh this turned out sick!”

That got you to your feet, moving to see the artwork. It was your photo in faded black and white placed in the shape of the gingerbread heart cookie, red frosting along the trimming, and a white string for it to be hung up. You peeked at Paul who appeared just like a kid on Christmas Day with stars in his eyes. Something so small brought him the biggest amount of joy and you were included on that.

The way your heart seemed to skip at the sight was something you’d never share.

“You like?” Mrs. Adelheid asks, “If not he will do it again.”

Paul shakes his head, “No! We love it, right?”

He glanced at you, hopeful.

A crooked smile appears on your lips, “We do. We’ll take it, you two do incredible work.”

Mrs. Adelheid smiles followed by a laugh at her own pun, “Herzlichen Dank.”

“Danke.” You still have a small smile on your lips, as Paul is holding onto the gingerbread heart by the string and the woman leaves to retrieve a padded box to protect it on your way home.

Your chin is hovering over Paul’s arm as he can’t seem to take his eyes off the cookie, “I told you we would look good as fuck. Or we ate down as you like to say. This is going to look fire hanging in the window…whoever decides to keep this and takes this home that is.”

Sighing, your lips part but Paul interrupts already having an idea of what you’re going to say,“Yeah, yeah I know, you hate Christmas.”

The longer you stare at the picture of you two together on this stiff cookie, the warmth that’s radiating from just standing beside your best friend, his soothing scent of ginger, mint, and cedar, and the way his own eyes are studying your gaze makes you appreciate the moment he’s loved all along.

Being around someone that mattered was perhaps maybe the only gift that you need.

“…I tolerate it because you love it.” Is what you come up with as your eyes meet his.

A stupid grin shines all over his features quicker than the glance he sends to your lips, “I’ve always known you were mushy underneath it all.”

“Don’t ruin it.” You shush with a finger to your lips.

Paul chuckles, “I won’t. It only lasts for a few seconds anyway.”

“Aw…you shouldn’t talk so low of yourself. It’s all about stamina.” You tease.

Paul scoffs, “Trust me, you don’t ever have to worry about that inside or outside the bedroom.”

Grimacing you lightly shove him, “Shut up, Paul.”

“You started it.”

Before you could get into a bickering match, the mother and son are back, wrapping and placing your gift into the box, collecting payment and wishing you a happy holiday before you’re blending back into the crowd. Paul’s holding onto the box underneath his arm, your arm is linked with his other now, and you’re stuck holding onto the eggnog that you’re occasionally sipping on to keep warm.

You don’t have much trouble doing that as your laughter echoes with Paul into the all and good night.

⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨��� ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･:*౨ৎ ⛇･

Continue with my winter anthology prompts here.

[vicsnook]

Come Back…Be Here | Bob Floyd x Reader

word count: 1230

warnings: deployment, sad, fluff

song pairing: Come Back… Be Here - Taylor Swift

notes: Hey y’all!! Hope everyone is doing well! I know I’ve been away for a little while but no worries I am back ☺️ and ready to write. This one is a sad one so forgive me for that. Please if you don’t mind, like and reblog that way more people can read this too. Thank you for all the likes and reblogs on my other works. Hope everyone is having a great week!!!! 💗

The sound of thunder startled you awake. Looking at your bedside table the alarm clock read 3:00AM in bright red letters. Bob snored peacefully beside you, he could sleep through anything.

The morning came too soon and as you got ready for work you noticed Bob was unusually chatty. He only did that when he was keeping something. Not wanting to pry you went along with it but as everyone headed off the tarmac that afternoon him and Nat got called into Cyclone’s office.

“I wonder what that’s about.”Jake said, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Me too, he’s been really chatty lately so maybe it has to do with that.”

“Yeah, I noticed that. He ain’t real good at keeping secrets” He chuckled as you both headed to the vending machines.

Usually you’d get a snack with Bob after flying exercises were completed but today your appetite was absent. The weird feeling that you’d had in your stomach when you woke up last night only intensified more as you waited for Bob. Jake tried making you laugh by showing you pictures of his new pup but your mind was elsewhere.

“Hey Peach, can we talk?” whispered Bob from behind you, breaking you away from your thoughts. You followed him quietly to your car grateful that you’d all been dismissed earlier today since Maverick was sick.

He started the car and looked over at you smiling weakly. You felt the knot in your throat as he headed towards the beach. This wasn’t going to be a good talk.

He grabbed your hand as you both found a spot to sit in the sand. Both of you stared at the beautiful California ocean when he finally broke the silence. “Nat and I were called up for a mission in Europe. We’ll be gone for a few months.”

“How long?”

“9 months but it can extend to a year. We leave in 2 days”

“Oh” you replied, trying to hold back the tears. Both of you knew this could happen anytime but you were not prepared for it to happen so soon. You’d only been together 8 months and now he was being sent off to the other side of the world.

He pulled you into his chest as you let the tears fall. He smelled of pines and jet oil. A weird combination that you’d come to adore. His fingers lifted your chin to look at him and he kissed you softly.

“We’re going to be okay.” he whispered as you both started to head towards the car. You nodded in response.

That night you helped him pack his seabag between dancing in the kitchen and eating leftover pizza. Tomorrow night the squad wanted to meet up at the Hard Deck for a small goodbye party.

—

Work flew by and before you knew it you were at the Hard Deck. Bob was off playing pool with Fanboy when Nat pulled you aside.

“Hey, you call me if you need anything. You’ve got nothing to worry about. I’ll keep this one in check.” she said, taking a swig of her beer.

“I’ll try to keep Rooster in check but no promises.” You raised your hands as you both laughed and she pulled you into a hug. In a few hours your best friend and boyfriend would be gone and tonight only seemed to fly by.

Bob and you said goodbye to everyone around midnight. Him and Nat had to be at the airport by 4:00AM. You cuddled up to him that night but as the alarm went off at 3:00AM you felt you’d only slept 10 minutes.

You said it in a simple way

4:00 a.m. the second day

Everyone gathered at the airport saying their final goodbyes. Bob pulled you in for one last hug and whispered “I love you” as he pulled away and kissed your forehead. A few tears escaped your eyes as you both had yet to say those 3 words.

“I love you too, Robby.”

Stumbled through the long goodbye

One last kiss, then catch your flight

“Time to go.” said Nat as Bob kissed you one last time and headed to security.

You followed the squad out to the parking lot politely declining their invitation to get breakfast. All you wanted to do was go home.

Getting ready for work you scanned the room for your dog tags and that’s when you saw it. A red gift box on your bed. Opening it you pulled out a necklace with a heart locket and in it was a picture of you and Bob from your first date. The note in the box read “So you always have me with you. Love, Bob.”

And this is when the feeling sinks in

I don't wanna miss you like this

Come back, be here

You put it on and finished getting ready as quickly as you could so you wouldn’t be late for work. Holding back tears as you headed out the door missing Bob more than anything.

—

Bob had left Wednesday and it was now Friday. Calls were short as he and Nat were settling in and the time difference didn’t help. He mentioned you should go see your sister to help not feel so lonely. So here you were boarding a plane to NY for the weekend.

Taxi cabs and busy streets

That never bring you back to me

I can't help but wish you took me with you

The breeze was cold as you stepped out of the airport. Raising your arm you hailed a taxi and then you were off to your sister’s. That night after a long day of retail therapy you were able to facetime Bob.

His sweet smile filled the screen as you showed him your purchases. “I got you something so once you know your mailing address let me know.” you said, eying the box on the floor. He nodded, raising his eyebrows at you making you laugh.

You got him a watch he’d been wanting according to Mickey. On the back it had the word fearless engraved, a nod to when you both danced in the rain a couple months back.

He was getting ready for work while you were ready for bed. He said he was happy that you liked his gift and couldn’t wait to get his.

“I’ve got to go baby but just know I love you and I’m thinking of you. Sweet dreams.” he said quietly as Nat knocked on his door.

“I love you Robby.” you replied as he smiled and ended the call.

This is falling in love in the cruelest way

This is falling for you and you are worlds away

In New York, be here

But you're in London, and I break down

'Cause it's not fair that you're not around

You shed a few tears after the call ended. Missing him hurt so much. Your chest aching as you tossed and turned that night. Wishing time would fly by the next couple of months.

—

Central park felt lonely the next day since your sister was called into work. She loved being a doctor but being on call sucked. You watched the birds from the bench you were sitting at wishing that Bob was with you. That he could Come back, be here.

[jqmalikhsgib]

stars

two

yn had been here so many times, it hurt less and less each time. she knew once she shared a little bit about her life people would pry more and more. this had been different though.

yn has been ready to tell the world about her amazing boyfriend and their adorable kid, but she wanted to do it at her own pace, in her own time.

slowly giving the world hints on who the man of the hour had been is amazing. millions of people speculating who it could be, she’d admit, it’s fun watching them squirm. she even replied to some fans that asked about him.

she loves sharing a little piece of herself. what she didn’t like was the obsessive prying eyes of the media. they found the location of aarons work, camping outside the building in case she had come out holding hands with the infamous mystery man. unfortunately they got nothing from her.

she hated that they’ve stalk her and they could potentially stalk aaron. aaron kept reassuring her that he’d be okay. he was sorta use to the cameras and a bit of the spotlight—dave is a famous author after all—paparazzi camped out the building long before they even met. yn just didn’t want him to get hurt by these vultures. aaron just laughs at her antics because, well, he’s an fbi agent. nothing a few paparazzi could do to him is anything like he’s had done while being on the field.

she realized how silly it is to fear for his safety. she just didn’t want this to ruin their relationship. it’s one of the many reasons why she stays in virginia and not in california or new york city. it’s quite quaint and simple.

the next few weeks had been pretty busy for yn. she’s been working on her own cosmetic line and another studio album. she’s excited for her new brand and possibly her last album for a little while.

yn is ready to slow down a little! her and aaron’s relationship is going amazing and she wants to eventually get married and have more kids. technically speaking, they’re already engaged! aaron proposed to her last year. she said yes immediately, but she didn’t want to officially get married until she was ready to take a break from music and do one last world tour for a little while. she also didn’t wanna tell anyone he had proposed just yet. not wanting people to know until they’re officially ready to plan the wedding.

aaron’s beyond proud of his girl. she’s finally doing something she’s wanted for awhile besides music! yn had been talking about becoming more of an entrepreneur for about two years now but had been afraid she’d failed. aaron assured her that she’d be very successful simply because she is smart and talented. her fans will love anything and everything she puts out there.

“darling, come to bed.” aaron whispers in her ear as he wraps his arms around her waist. she’s doing some last minute touches on a few designs she had in mind. not knowing how she wanted the logo for her cosmetic line to look.

“in a minute, babe. just gotta figure this out.” yn concentrate on a few photos. aaron sighs. he spins her around, gently grabs the papers, and sets them down. aaron caresses her cheek and kisses her gently. “hey, they’ll be there in the morning. you’ve barely got a lick of sleep the last few days. im worried about you.” aaron frowns. he rest his chin on top of her head. she sighs as she wraps her arms around his waist

“im sorry, baby. just want everything to be perfect.”

“and they will, yeah? because you’re a genius! but you don’t need to overwork or stress yourself. what is it you always tell me, huh?”

yn smiles. “work will be there tomorrow, family may not.”

“exactly! our son misses his mammas cuddles.”

yn felt awful.

“hey, i know what you’re thinking. none of that, you hear!” aaron leafs no room for arguments

she hums. “where’s my boy?”

“upstairs in his bed. he’s waiting for us to read him his favorite bedtime story. says he wants you to do it because you do the voices better.” aaron playfully scoffs.

“of course i do! mister monotone.”

“im not monotoned.” aaron argues. yn just shakes her head as she heads upstairs to their sons room. aaron follows right behind.

“ready, baby?” yn asked as she gently walks into jacks room.

“yeah, mamma!”

[eonars]

BORINGGGGG ⬇️🚫😴🤓

Moved into my actual long term place in the city today (have been living in my department head's basement apartment thing until my contract starts and that was way out in the countryside where the university is) right now it's 10:15pm and I'm all tucked up in the brand new fresh bedding I bought today for my dinky little twin bed because this is a one room studio. Which is worth honestly bc I'm paying only approx $1k a month for it and it's smack DEEP in the city center, walking distance from the train station and surrounded by all kinds of super exciting stuff. Tomorrow I need to unpack properly and go through the box of kitchen stuff the landlord gave me and decide what I want + do a big shop of establishing kitchen essentials + possibly another less big shop of homewares and storage/organization stuff perhaps. I've also been struck with the realization that tomorrow is Saturday night and I'm in the big city and can just.....go out if I want to and easily walk back here whenever I want. I gotta go into the office on Monday even though there's nothing to do because I need to retrieve my work laptop (left it there so there'd be one less thing to move) and I figure since I'm there I can also practice the presentation I have to give at this summer school program. The summer school program that I have to leave for on Tuesday because why would I get to just chill and settle in to the new place for more than 4 days you know. But that's where the real hard work is gonna start because they're gonna have us in lectures and practical sessions on cryopreservation and laser microscopy from the getgo which is giving me the major fear cause from here on out it's Real. Like I get back from this week long program and immediately it's time for my husbandry sessions and learning to do ivf on fish and a microdissection session and signing up for the ethics in animal experimentation course and I'm getting a weird fear that for whatever reason I'll just full stop be too stupid to determine cryodamage via laser microscopy and they'll be like actually you're done just go back. Which is stupid I'm aware because obviously they know full well I'm not an expert on this stuff and I've never even done it before and accepted me anyway but still. It just feels really surreal cause I suddenly got every single thing I've ever wished for in the space of like two months and I haven't been able to shake the feeling that somethings gonna go wrong and it's all gonna disappear and I'm gonna end up back home again. Or like I'm scared it's gonna be too hard and I won't be able to do it cause they overestimated me and I have the least lab and research experience out of all these other candidates because again I'm just a minimum wage waster from california they brought in vs veterinarians and research scientists. Like if doing ivf on a zebrafish was so easy surely everyone would be doing it. I've also had an unshakeable migraine for like 3 days now and I think even though I've been doing so well at a solid 11:30 to 7am sleep sched for these last few weeks I'm gonna let myself sleep in tomorrow morning before I rise and grind and unpack. And then maybe dress up and go sip a vodka soda in a metal bar alone looking like a spooked antelope.

[xojennyboo]

A/n: hello readers! Here’s a small update. I know I said I would upload Monday but things got in the way. I hope you like this, please don’t hesitate to submit your requests. I would love to hear your feedback! Sorry for any editing issues! I tried to post by today! Thank you for reading and Happy Birthday Harry!

You and Harry have been best friends for years. Both of you have an immense amount of love for each other. You’ve never dated one another, one reason being that you didn’t want to risk the friendship you have. Both of you hame been inseparable since you became friends 10 years ago. You’ve helped him through heartaches, through panic attacks, through successes, etc. He has done the same for you, although not as frequent now that he’s talking to someone.

Although you want Harry to be happy, you find yourself disliking when he started a new romance.in the past it wasn’t an issue but once the relationships were more serious and were longer, he would distance. Obviously, you understood his reasoning behind it, but you never understood why some females were weirded out about their partners having a female best friend. With this relationship, you first found his girlfriend to be super chill. She was nice at first but as the months passed by, she would start hogging up Harry. He barely had any time for you anymore which hurt. Tom says to give it time, but you felt neglected.

This week though you had to suppress those feelings because Harry’s birthday was in the next few days. You were super excited since you wanted to throw a surprise party with all of his friends and family. He was currently in London and would be coming back to California the day before his birthday. Jon assured you that Harry will not be at his house that day. This gave you the opportunity to go all out on the decorations. You made sure that the invitations were given to all the guests last month. You had also ordered his cake a couple of weeks prior. Catering was also taken care of. This was your big project, and you were so happy to surprise him. You just hoped everything ran smoothly.

The week passed by pretty quickly and Harry’s birthday was tomorrow. You got up super early and went to Harry’s house to start decorating. His house was huge, in your opinion, which meant that you would literally take all day with decorating. Jon was helping you get everything ready. You decided that majority of the decorations was to be black decorations. This would allow for the picture-perfect pictures that the guests could take. For balloons you had purchased a bunch of black balloons with a bunch of clear LED balloons to light up the ceiling and staircase. Of course, you also got gold and silver decorations and balloons to give it pop. The day flew by so quickly and you didn’t realize it was dinner time. “You want to order take-out", Tom asks, sitting on the floor tired of helping you with placing the balloons. “Sure, you know my order right”, you say, placing the last balloon on the arch. “Yeah, Ill be right back”, he says before exiting the house.

You looked around the room and was super proud of the work you and Tom did. You were also thankful that he went to the liquor store to stock up on everything that involves alcohol. As you were picking up the garbage that was left on the floor you felt your phone ring. Once you saw who it was your face lit up. Harry. “Hey stranger", you answered the phone. You haven’t spoken to him since he went to London. Although you were happy to near his voice, you were soon sad when it wasn’t him on the other line, it was his girlfriend. “Y/n, hi, it’s H/G/N”, she says, although her friendliness sounded fake. “Hey. As everything alright? Why’re you using Harry’s phone?”, you ask with a bit of concern. "Everything is alright. I just wanted to talk to you about tomorrow's celebration", she says. What could she possibly want to talk about. All she had to do was bring him here. “Okay. What’s up”, you say, taking a seat on the steps of the staircase. “Listen, I know you’re his friend, but I would prefer if you not be there”, she says.

You were shocked. You really tried processing what she just said. "Hello?", you hear on the other line. “You’ve kidding right?”, you say. You hear a snarky giggle on the other end. “No, I’m not kidding. Me and Harry are in a good place right now, and I don’t want your presence to ruin that”, she says. You were fuming. “You have some fucking nerve telling me not to attend this”, you yelled. “Listen, I’m his girlfriend, not you. His family is attending, and I want to make a good impression and I don’t want you in the middle of it”, she says. You scoffed at her reasoning. “If you really want him to be happy, and if you are really his best friend, then you would do this for him, for us”, she says. “Why do you dislike me so much?”, you ask. The front door opened showing Tom with a bag of food. He scrunched his eyebrows looking at you. You put the phone on speaker so he could listen. “I don’t need to discuss those reasons with you. Just stay away from Harry. I asked you nicely, and it would be such a shame if I create a scene at his birthday party. You decide”, she says and hangs up.

“Was that?”, he starts asking but cut him off. “Yeah. You wanna know what she asked me to do?”, your chest was pounding rapidly at how angry you were. You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your chest. “What?”, he asks. “She asked me to not show up tomorrow night or else she’ll cause a scene”, you say. “What the fuck. She can’t be serious", he says, sitting down next to you on the stairs. “I’m not sure, but I don’t want her creating a scene. We’ve worked so hard Tom. His family will be here as well. I don’t want things to be awkward”, you say. “Still, he’ll question you not being here”, he says. “I know, just tell him I had something to do”, you say defeated. Nothing was going to ruin his special day and if that meant you had to stay away, then so be it.

The next day quickly came. You slept in Harry’s house in order to prepare any last-minute details. Throughout the day you made sure everything was okay before you left to your apartment. The day that you were so happy about turned into a gloomy day since you weren’t going to be with the person you cared about the most. “Okay Tom, cake is here, caterers are here, DJ is setting up now. Everything should be ready”, you say looking around one last time. “It’s perfect. You did amazing", he says. “We did amazing", you clarify causing him to chuckle. “You planned it, I just helped. I can’t believe you’re really not coming”, he says. “It’s for the best Tom. I’m not letting her ruin his day”, you say. You looked at the time, 5pm. Guests should be arriving soon. “Okay Tom. It’s my time to go. Promise me you’ll make him have an unforgettable birthday?", you say. “I promise", he reassures. You gave him a hug and walked out the house.

The car ride was silent. You couldn’t believe you actually listened to her, but you knew it was for the best. You arrived at your apartment building. You parked and event upstairs. You were exhausted. You put your stuff down, sleep demanding its presence as you laid down on the couch and closed your eyes, sleep overtaking you.

HARRY’S POV:

30. today I turn 30. How the years have flown by. I was happy to some extent with where my life is right now. I had my mom and Gemma, both who were healthy. I had a great group of friends who truly care for me. I also had Y/N. My confidant. My partner in crime. My ride or die. My rock. I know she distances herself due to my relationships which saddens me. I thought a trip back to London would help but it hadn’t. My girlfriend and I were nonstop arguing about the same thing… my friendship with y/n. She wanted me to not talk to her anymore, and at first, I distanced myself from y/n to make her happy. That worked for a bit, but the topic came up again. During this trip I made it abundantly clear that y/n wasn’t going anywhere.

I was excited to see y/n again, to see her beautiful face, see her beautiful smile that brightens my day. I miss her tremendously and its my fault that I let it get to this point. Tom said earlier to get ready and to dress nicely, black tie event. He didn’t specify but mentioned I would be comfortable. I decided on wearing my dark emerald, green suit, with a pastel green satin button up underneath. This outfit has to be one of my favorites. Y/n chose this outfit, says it brings out my eyes, which I agree. I leave the first few buttons of my shirt unbuttoned. As I look at myself in the mirror, I think about what I’m going to say to y/n. I feel a pair of small hands wrap around my torso from behind. I took a deep breath and turned around to face her. “You look very handsome birthday boy”, she says, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Thank you”, I say forcing a smile on my face. She leans up and kisses my lips, she leans to the side trying to deepen the kiss, but I pull away, not wanting to do anything with her after our horrible trip.

She notices my mood but doesn’t say anything. “Are you almost ready? Tom keeps asking when we’ll be there", I say fixing my collar. “I’m ready when you are”, she says, grabbing her belongings from the bed. I spray some cologne and we head out the door. “Do you know where this event is at?”, I ask, still not aware of all the details. Wouldn’t you like to know. I have to put this on you, no peaking", she says, taking a blindfold out of her purse and wrapping it around my head to cover my eyes. She leads me towards the vehicle, thanking our driver as she gets in.

The drive feels like forever with the blindfold on, but we arrived at the destination rather quickly. The car door opens, and I feel her small hands take mine. The first thing I feet are small rocks under my shoes. We start walking, her leading the way. “Alright hun, there’s 5 starts ahead so mind your steps”, she says. I step forward and feel the first step. 1, 2,3,4, 5. I stop for a moment and reach on the side, feeling the small bench. I knew it. We were at my house. “Come on Harry”, she says, taking my hand in hers and walking forward. I near the dick of the door open, but all I hear is silence. “Okay, I’m gonna take the blindfold off now”, one says, reaching behind my head Te untie the knot she made. As soon as the blindfold left my eyes, everyone in front of me yelled 'surprise!’. I looked around the room looking at all the familiar faces. Tom was there. Mitch. All of my friends. But then I saw my mum and Gemma. A huge smile plastered on my face, and I hurried to embrace them in a hug. “Oh homey, happy birthday!", my mum says to me, kissing my cheek. “Happy birthday little brother", Gemma says embracing me in a hug. “I’m so happy you’re both here”, I say to them.

Before they could say anything, a pair of hands gripped my shoulders. I turned to see Tom. “Happy birthday mate”, he says embracing me in a hug. “Thank you, mate. The place looks incredible “, I say, complimenting all of the detailed decorations that adorned my home.it has y/n’s name written all over it. “You can thank y/n for that”, he says. “Where is she?”, I say looking around the room in hopes of finding her. My attention turns back to Tom, who still hasn’t answered my question. “Mate?”, I question, but before he could answer I fee her hand tug on mine. “Harry come say his to your quests”, she says, dragging me to greet everyone. There’s no sign of her.

I said hello to everyone and thanked them for coming. I was getting irritated at the fact that y/n wasn’t here. It was so unlike her, especially since the took time to decorate. “If you’re excuse me a moment”, I say, walking away from the group I was conversing with and walked over to Tom. I grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the hallway. “Hey mate! That hurts”, he whines, loosening the tight grip I had on his arm. “Enough with the bullshit Tom. Why is she not here?!”, I whispered rather harshly. He took a moment before answering, looking around so no one was watching. “Your girlfriend", he says. I scrunch my eyebrows together in confusion. “I was helping y/n with getting everything set up. I went to buy us some food and when I got back, she was on the phone. The caller ID on her phone said it was you, but it was your girlfriend. Basically, she said that she didn’t want y/n to be here since you guys were in a “good place”, and if she did show up, she would cause a scene. You know how y/n is, putting others before herself. She didn’t show up because of her, because she wanted your day to be special", he finished.

I grab my phone and search my call history, looking at the entry that was made yesterday. When did she even get access to my phone? I didn’t know what to do with her. All I know right now is that I needed to find y/n. “Mate I need you to cover for me”, I tell him. “Where you going?”, he asks. “Going to bring y/n here”, I say. “Sure thing”, he says patting my shoulder. I snuck back to the main area and maneuvered my way towards the exit. Quickly I headed to the garage and got into my car. Her apartment will be the first place I’ll check. I drone out of my driveway and drove the streets of Los Angeles. Her apartment wasn’t that far away from my house, arriving in only 15 minutes. I parked my car in the lot and headed inside. I took the elevator and sped down her floor. Once in front of her apartment door, I knocked on it, rather loudly due to the adrenaline in my system. Hopefully She’s here.

Y/n POV:

After my nap, which I desperately needed. I then took a well needed shower, to relax my body. I was sad to say the least, wishing that I was at the party. I could just picture his face seeing everyone that attended, especially Anne and Gemma. He hasn’t seen them in a while, and I thought it would make him happy seeing them. I was currently in the kitchen pouring myself a glass of wine when I heard knocking at the front door. You put the glass down and walked over to the door, looking through the peephole. Harry. On gosh. You opened the door, and he walked right in without a word. “Harry, what are you doing here?”, you calmly say, closing your door. All you could near was his meany breathing, sounding like he just ran a marathon.

“Harry what’s wrong?”, you ask, a bit concerned now since he hasn’t said anything. “Why weren’t you there?”, he asks. Your heartbeat faster now. You knew that he knew why, especially since he came all this way to asks you this. "Harry... I didn’t want to make this worse for you”, you begin to say. “You wouldn’t”, he says. “You say that now, but she would make it worse. She doesn’t want me near you”, I say. “Il don’t care. You’re my best friend. She has to underst-", "she doesn’t Harry”, you cut him off. “She doesn’t care “, you say, watching his tall figure pace back and forth. He rubbed his eyes and suddenly walked towards you. He cupped your face with his hands his lips kissing your forehead.

Your eyes instantly closed at the feeling of his lips on your skin. You took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of his cologne. God, you loved his cologne. “I don’t care who I’m with, or end up with, you will always come first, do you hear me?”, he says against your skin. Your hands reached up to attach around his wrists. Looking up, you stare into his beautiful eyes that hold so much emotion. “All I care about is your happiness, Harry. I cannot be the person who stops you-”, before you could finish your sentence you feel his lips attach to yours.

His lips were like heaven. They were so soft against yours. He literally took your breath away. You both pulled apart, but you maintained your eyes closed wanting to savor the moment a bit longer. You opened your eyes, meeting his that were already on you. “Hi”, he whispered, a small smile playing on his lips. “Hi”, you breathlessly say. “Come with me back to the house”, he says. “But-” you begin. “I won't take no for an answer”, he teasingly says. “H.”, before you could protest, he’s dragging you into your room. “Sit. I’ll pick out your dress”, he says. At this point you surrender and allowed him to have his moment. "Perfect. Here, put this on”, he says, handing you a long silky dress. It’s the same color as his buttoned-up shirt. You vividly remember the day he got you the dress.it was the same day he got the tux he’s wearing now.

You didn’t bother to argue and did what he asked you to do. Quickly you went into the bathroom and put the dress on. This was your favorite dress, and it wasn’t because Harry had picked it out. You quickly curled your hair and did your makeup, before walking out the door. He immediately stood up from the bed when he saw you. “Wow you look beautiful", he says causing a small blush to creep up on your cheeks. “I grabbed your things hope that’s alright?", he says. You nod, trusting him. “Okay, Lets go”, he says, twirling you around in the process. Once you put your heels on you walked out the door and headed towards the party. You were a bit nervous considering all the thoughts that were running through your head. “We’ll be alright", he whispered as he opened the door for you. You smiled, getting in. He got into his side of the car, and we made our way to his house.

The drive was short and soon he was parking his car in the garage. Once parked, he went to your side and helped you out. Hand in hand you made your way inside. Before you waked into the main room, you stopped him in the hallway. “What’s wrong?”, he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “We can’t walk in hand in hand Harry. You go in first”, you tell him, withdrawing your hand from his and pushing him lightly to walk. Once he walked into the room, you heard clapping, guessing that people were looking for him. “Look who I found”, he says motioning towards you as you walked into the room. A bunch of greetings came your way, becoming a bit overwhelming due to the anxiety building up. “Hey there”, Tom said pulling you into a hug. “Hey”, you say. “Don’t worry. I know you’re getting anxious. We got you”, he whispers. Your anxiousness wasn’t because you were afraid, it was not knowing what she was capable of doing. You looked around the room to see where Anne and Gemma were, wanting to say hi. But you were met with daggers by his girlfriend. You just stared at her, she is staring at you, just keeping direct eye contact. You decided to break it and walk over to Anne.

“Oh, sweetheart its so nice to see you again “, Anne says embracing you in a tight hug. “The missed you so much Anne, you say, placing a kiss on her cheek. “You look more beautiful every time I see you”, she compliments. “Thank you, Anne, you look younger every time I See you”, you compliment back making her blush. “There is my favorite girl”, you hear Gemma say loudly as she shimmies her way through people with 3 drinks in her hand. She hands one to Anne, then you, keeping the other one for herself. Before you say anything, she embraces you in a tight hug. “We have to hang out more. I’ve missed you. You need to come to London more often”, she says making you laugh. “Maybe next month yeah?”, you suggest making her nod.

You continued with the small talk until you felt tapping on your shoulder. You turn to see his girlfriend standing there with a smirk. “Can I talk with you for a minute?", she says. You forced a smile, nodding your head. You turned around and excused yourself from Anne and Gemma. She walked towards the hallway where no one was around. What are you doing here, I thought we had an agreement “, she cuts to the point. “Harry came looking for me”, you say. “And you couldn’t make an excuse?", the retaliated. Now you were getting placed off your eyes rolling at her comment. “What did you want me to do? He came to my department and insisted", you defend. “And to be completely honest with you, I don’t need to deal with your shit. I don’t know who you think a to keep demanding shit”, you say, raising your voice at how mad you were getting. “You just can’t seem to leave Harry alone can’t you. You’re like his little puppy, always around”, she spits out. “On honey you’re so delusional. Harry and I have been friends since before you two met. If I’m always there is because he wishes, not because I’m looking for him”, you utter back. “You better stay away, I mean it”, she says. You couldn’t help but smirk at her comment. “Or else what? “, you say. Before you could say anything else, she slaps you the stinging making itself prominent on your skin.

“You bitch”, you yell, slapping her right back. Before you knew it, you were both fighting and yelling in the hallway. Slamming each other against the wall and saying insults to one another. Before you could slap her again, you heard yelling, and someone's arms wrap around your waist pulling you away from her. You tried getting away from their grip, but they were too strong Tom was holding her back, she was trying to pull away from his grip. “Y/n, calm down”, you hear Harry say pulling you into the kitchen. Tim fine. I’m fine”, you assured. “Are you sure?”, he asks before letting you go. “Yeah”, you breathlessly say feeling his arms release you. You paced around the kitchen trying to calm down your anger and frustration. Your head was pounding, your face hot and red, your palms sweaty. Harry gave you space and went back to his girlfriend. Thank God people weren’t aware of the situation, the loud music muffling the yelling that was taking place seconds ago. You look down at your arms noticing scratch marks going down. You went to the sink to rinse them, the water stinging the cut.

“Hey, are you okay?”, Tom says rubbing your back as you cleaned your scratch marks. “Jean, I’m fine now”, you say, leaning against the counter and feeling your tears building up in your eyes. “Hey, come here”, he says embracing you in a much-needed hug. “The one thing I tried to avoid happened", you cry. You were so angry. “Shh, everything will be okay”, he says. You pull away and nod, wiping your tears away. “Come on, lets grab you a drink”, he says leading you to the bar.

Harry POV:

I was beyond pissed and disappointed. We were currently in my bedroom, hearing her yell and scream as she continued to talk shit about y/n. I’ve had enough. I couldn’t do this anymore. “I can’t stand her Harry. She’s always around every time were here or we hang out. She’s like a lost puppy.” "Enough!", I yell, silencing her completely. “I’m not letting her go. I’m not going to choose between the two of you because you and a both know that you want like the answer that I will give you. If she’s always around is because I choose to have her around. She’s, my comfort. She’s my best friend, why don’t you get that”, I angrily say. “I can’t do this anymore. The fighting and bickering. I won’t do it, I’m sorry” I say. She has tears in her eyes, but I refuse to let her tears influence my decision. “Harry, baby, I’m sorry. Ill change”, she says, grabbing my hand. I pull them away, not wanting to give her hope. I was tired. “I can’t do this. I cannot be with you anymore", I say, avoiding eye contact with her. "Harry.", “No, don’t make this harder than it has to be we’re done. Its best if you leave. I can call you an Uber or drop”, “No, I don’t want you to do me any favor. I’ll leave on my own”, she says, getting up and leaving the room.

I wait a couple minutes before exiting my room and walking downstairs. I examined the house, and she was nowhere to be found. She was gone. I walk up to the bar seeing y/n and Tom having a drink. Without saying a word, I hug y/n tightly. “I’m so sorry”, I mumble against her forehead. “It’s not your fault Harry”, she says pulling away and grabbing a tequila shot from the counter. “Here, this is for you”, she says, taking the other glass for herself and the other for Tom. “Happy 30th birthday Harry”, she says raising the shot glass to do a small cheer before drinking the shot without making a face. The clear liquid burned my throat as it made its way down. “Now, let’s get Harry fucked up”, Tom says. We cheered and that’s exactly what happened.

Y/n POV:

You awake on top of someone's chest. You were in a bedroom, in a bed. Your head was pounding. Everything from last night was a slight blur at first, your brain not functioning correctly as you tried to wake up. You looked to your side and saw Harry rubbing his eyes and waking up. “Ugh, what time is it”, he groggily says. “Il don’t know “, you whine the brightness of the room becoming too much for your eyes. You got up and abut the blinds making the room dark. “Thank you”, Harry says. You sat back down on the bed and stretched the sleep out of your system. “how’d we get up here?”, he asks. You shrug your shoulders, not knowing yourself. “I’m gonna freshen up. Be right back”, you mumbled walking towards the bathroom to brush your teeth. Harry always had extra. Harry walked in behind you to do the same. He was still wearing the same outfit from last night minus the blazer. You were still wearing the dress.

He stared at you through the mirror in front of you as both were brushing, he had a playful smirk on his face, watching you intently, his gaze sending shivers down your spine. You lean down and spit the toothpaste out your mouth and rinse. He reciprocated your actions, walking back into the room once done. He plopped down on his bed, patting the imply space beside him. You walked towards the bed lying next to him, your back laying flatly on the mattress. He played on his side, his hand supporting his head as he looked down at you.it was a peaceful silence between the two of you. With his free hand, he placed it on top of yours that were fiddling against each other. He separated your hands, taking one in his large one and bringing up to his lips. His soft lips pressed against the back of your hand comforting you immediately. “Thank you for everything last night.it meant everything to me”, he says lightly. You couldn’t help but smile as he placed your entertained hands on your torso. “It did?”, you ask. “Mmhm your best one yet. Although, I’m starting to think that you try to outdo yourself every year”, he says making you laugh knowing that it was true.

“Sorry about the fight”, you apologize, your gaze still on your hands, his thumb caressing your skin. “Don’t be, it wasn’t working out anyway", he says. “Yeah, but still. The one thing I was avoiding happened", you say. “Well, is the fight wouldn’t have happened, then I wouldn’t have broken up with her’, he confesses. “You broke up?”, you say. “Mmhm” he replies. “I told her that I wasn’t going to choose between the two because she wouldn’t like my answer”, he calmly says which causes you to finally look up at him. “What?”, you say causing him to chuckle at your reaction. “I will always choose you y/n. Always” he says. He leans down and brushes his lips against yours. “Harry”, you whispered. “Tell me to stop”, he says leaning closer. You didn’t want him to stop. “I don’t want you to stop”, you say causing a smirk to appear on his face as he closed the gap between the two of you to attach your lips together. He leaned over your body completely on top of you, your hands placed on his face. His tongue lapped against your lips asking for permission to enter. Without hesitation you allowed him to slide his tongue into your mouth, you do the same, exploring his mouth.

His hands left the side of your head and roamed down your body landing on your hip. As the kiss deepened, his grip tightened. “Gosh, I want you so bad”, he mumbles against your lips. ‘Have me”, you say, biting his bottom lip in the process.it is lips moved down your face and onto your neck, kissing and licking you, sending tingles all over your body. You couldn’t help but let out a small moan come out of your swollen lips as he harshly sucked a spot on your neck. The need for one another was becoming stronger, your legs wrapping around his waist, bringing him closer to you. He slowly began moving his hips against your, the friction making you wet. You both het out a moan as the tension deepened, your breathing picking up as your touches became more needy. “No foreplay Harry”, you mumble, his response only a groan. He detached his lips from your neck as he unbuttoned his stacks to pull down his pants and boxers. With fidgety fingers you lift up your dress exposing your panties. “Fucking hell”, he mumbles. Without hesitation he takes your parties off throwing them to the side. You lift yourself up, holding your body up anticipating his next more.

“You look so fucking sexy like this”, he says grabbing your hips and pulling you closer. Aligning himself at your entrance, he said himself in causing a moan to come out of both of you. His hard dick stretching your wet walls. Before he could even move there was a knock on his door, his mother to be precise. “Harry darling. Are you up? I’ve made breakfast", she says. Trying to control his breathing he waited to answer. “Uh yea mum. Just give me a couple of minutes”, he shakily says causing you to silently laugh. “Alright don’t be too long honey”, she says her footsteps becoming distant as she walked away from the door. “Fuck, we have to be quick love”, he pants as he thrusts into you. He felt so good inside you, your small whines becoming more frequent as he thrusts in and out of you rapidly. He grabbed your thighs squeezing them as he thrusts.

“Oh, fuck Harry, please don’t stop”, you moan out, feeling your climax approaching. “Fuck baby; you feel so good. I’m close”, he pants. “Me too “, you pant. With just a couple more thrust, and the bed squeaking, you both reached your climax, immediately holding each other like your life depended on it. Once you both calmed down, he withdrew from you and put your panties back on. “That was amazing", he says kissing your lips. He pulled his pants up to get ready. “As much as I want to stay here longer, my mother”, “I know Harry, let’s go”, you say making yourself presentable. Hand in hand you walked downstairs and enjoyed breakfast. Definitely tops any other birthday celebration.

[gghostwriter]

Entangled Strings of Fate

Chapter 4. Re-routing (take the long way home)

Spencer Reid x FOC

Summary: Caltech, Pasadena - Cleo considers herself a woman of logic. With an IQ of 158 and an eidetic memory, how could she not. But meeting Spencer, the boy genius to hers, had her believing in intangible theories like the invisible string and the fates. Now, if only he would notice the depth of her feelings. Set in Caltech, pre-season 1 and will progress from there.

A/n: trying to figure out the writing schedule for both my fanfics out is a bit hard, not going to lie. The writing style and pace for both seems too different for me so please bear with me as I try to figure out which days are for which fanfic and which days are for posting.

Also, here is a link to the sister paintings that I referred to in this chapter. It’s titled ‘Digame’—second to the last painting

previous chapter || series masterlist || next chapter

“There is no such thing as an accident; it is fate misnamed.” - Napoleon Bonaparte

The BAU was back in full swing. Spencer was called back with Gideon three weeks ago for a series of murders in Seattle. That meant she was also back in almost self-isolation with her classes and readings. She filled her days with endless past case studies and her nights with her sister, Thalia via phone call. 

“Please Cleo, come visit me over the weekend here in California,” Thalia pleaded for the nth time. She was currently in her final year at USC, taking up Accounting and Finance.

“Alright alright, I’ll book a flight but you promise to show me around okay,” she sighed. They couldn’t have been more opposites of each other. Thalia was more go with the flow while she needed structure. “You have to promise me that you won’t ditch me like the last time.”

Thalia laughed. “I promise, I swear.”

——— 

“I know you just got here a few minutes ago and you’d like to settle down first—” Thalia started on once she picked Cleo up from the airport. Her flight landing just past 4pm. “—but my friend invited me to an art gallery opening and I’d really, really like you to go with me, please, pretty please.”

Cleo turned her head to the driver’s seat and grimaced. She loved Thalia with all her heart, she really did, but her spontaneity was giving her a whiplash every time. 

They look a like, down to their eye color and height. But that was where the similarities end. Thalia had this air of freedom in her that Cleo never had. She thought maybe it came from the burden of her intellect but Thalia wasn’t lagging behind her at all, she was bordering gifted spectrum just like her. If Cleo was being honest, she was a little bit jealous of how free her sister seemed even though her decisions were chosen for her. 

“Are you sure you’d want me to go with you? You know it’s not really my scene,” Cleo stared out into the window. 

“I’m sure and that’s why I’m asking you to go with me! To get you out of your comfort zone once in a while.” 

She sighed. “Okay alright, but you owe me a mean breakfast tomorrow,”

“Deal.” 

———

She wished she had said no instead. Seeing a beautiful woman flirting with Spencer was enough to dampen her spirits.

“Isn’t that your friend, Spencer?” Thalia pointed out of the blue. “Should we go say hi?” 

Her green eyes widened as she took note of him in the gallery. What were the odds that they would be in the same state or even the same art gallery for that matter. She was about to agree before noticing his acquaintance introducing a beautiful blonde woman to him. 

“Oh hey, that’s Lila Archer,” Thalia gave her sister a reassuring look. “She’s a local star of sorts here in L.A.”

She stared at the sister paintings in front of her with intense scrutiny. It was an abstract painting filled with deep colored brush strokes against a pale blue grey background. The art felt unassuming and inconspicuous. It wasn’t the most eye catching work out of all the canvases  displayed but like a train wreck about to happen, she found herself not able to look anywhere else. It gave visualization to the gnawing in the pit of her stomach. Murky and dark with the emotion. A sense of dread cloaking her every being, unsure of where it was coming from. 

She took a sip of champagne and looked around for a glimpse of him once more. He was gone.

She took a deep breath and read the title and the poem accompaniment.

Digame, which means ‘Tell Me’ in Spanish. 

The poem goes:

Tell me about the first person you loved. Tell me about how they loved you and you loved them. How you stopped and why…

oh. 

Oh. 

OH.

The truth has come up to the surface. The truth that she had been subconsciously been pushing to the deep corners of her mind and heart. Her balance felt off-kilter with the revelation. Like her world came to a screeching halt and started spinning in the right direction. 

She was in love with him. Probably since the beginning. 

Her initial intrigue with Spencer Reid has turned and become a highly flammable substance for her beating heart. It had become love that is now burning deep maroon with flickers of black with the knowledge that he was not hers. That he was a single man not immune to a pretty woman’s attraction and attention. 

Frankly, she didn’t know what to do with this life altering revelation. 

———

“Hey, are you okay?” Thalia asked on the cab ride back to her apartment. “You’ve been quiet this whole time. Is this about what we saw?” 

Shee looked out the window, watching the city lights and night life. “Do you think I should I have bought that painting from the gallery?” 

Thalia scrutinized her. She was never one for the art and having her asked that threw her off balance. “I guess if you really like it. I mean Mom and Dad would be happy seeing you spend money on, and I quote, the finer things in life—”

“—but is this really about the painting or is this about Spencer?”

She twiddled with her hands. “Can you ask your friend for the painter’s information? I’ll pass along to Mom for the painting. I think I’d like to have that hung in my apartment back in Virginia.”

Thalia sighed. She knew there was no use in trying to pry her thoughts and emotions, she’ll reach out when she’s ready. 

“Sure, so what do you want for breakfast?” 

“Pancakes would be great,” she softly smiled. 

———

Her flight back to Virginia was scheduled at 6am. An ungodly hour as Thalia repeatedly commented on.

“That’s a good book to pass time,” the stranger on the plane next to Cleo commented on.

He was handsome, she noted. Dirty blonde hair effortlessly pushed back and a set of deep blue eyes that seem to hold intellect with a hint of somber behind them. 

“You’ve read it before?” She asked, showing the full East of Eden cover to the stranger.

“Yes, a few times actually,” 

“Can I ask what your favorite part was?” She extended her hand. “I’m Cleo, by the way.”

He reached out his hand, shaking hers. “Joe, Joe Thompson. And to answer your question, it’s when Abra tells Cal that she loves him,”

Cleo smiled. That was one of her favorite parts too. 

“I think I love you, Cal” 

“I’m not good”

“Because you’re not good” 

“I liked that part too, it gave thought that we are all imperfect beings capable and deserving of love,” she rambled. “It felt humanizing that Steinbeck put that thought into words way before and that it can still be adapted to the modern society—I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“It’s alright, I thought it was very cute,” he smiled. “This may be out of the blue but would you like to get lunch together in Virginia? I mean, you can say no—”

She zoned out for a bit, remembering the tabloid magazine at the airport earlier that featured Lila & Spencer. 

“—it’s just that I live in Virginia and I could show you around if you’re just visiting for a little while—”

Maybe this was kismet, she thought. Maybe this was the universe giving her an obvious sign of what was meant to be.

She found herself nodding along before responding. “I’d like that and I am from Virginia.”

Joe smiled and she felt a little bit lighter. 

Maybe it is kismet.

[wonderlandleighleigh]

He shows up on a Monday night in February, after she gets home from the show with a record in his hands, looking sheepish. It’s late and the kids are sleeping. Her parents are out.

She hasn’t seen him since that day at the airport. Truthfully, she never really thought she’d see him again after that, but here he is. He looks tired, and a little defeated in the eyes, butt there’s a tiny bit of hope too.

Midge tilts her head, trying for a smile. “Lenny...?”

“So I’ve got a couple show in town,” he tells her. “And this new record came out and I really think you’ll dig it.”

“The kids are sleeping,” she reminds him gently.

He nods, but heads for the record player. “We’ll put it on low. It’s not the kinda song you listen to loud anyway.”

Midge follows him, watching him curiously. “Lenny, are you okay?”

“Good. I’m-” he sighs, his shoulders slumping a little. “I just- “

She waits.

“Miss you,” he says quietly. “And I just uh...” he fiddles with the record. “If you’re tired, we don’t have to do this, I just got jazzed is all. It came out late last year, but i just caught the other day so I...”

Slowly, she steps up to him and takes the record, putting it on the player and setting it to player softly. 

Tonight you’re mine completely You give your love so sweetly Tonight the light of love is in your eyes But will you love me tomorrow?

Midge closes her eyes, letting the music wash over her, swaying a little.

This man.

This dumb, sweet, beautiful man that she can’t stop thinking about, even with the chaos of two children, a volatile ex-husband, a roller coaster of a job and two deeply opinionated parents breathing down her neck.

She doesn’t really know when Lenny pulled her into his arms to sway with her, but she’s not complaining.

Tonight with words unspoken You say that I’m the only one But will my heart be broken When the night meets the morning sun

She wraps her arm around his neck tightly, her face buried into the shoulder of his jacket, breathing in the smell of cigarette smoke and coffee and Lenny, and when she turns her head, her lips connect with his jaw and she’s being pulled closer.

So tell me now And I won’t ask again Will you still love me tomorrow?

He dips his head and kisses her tenderly as the song fades, and Midge sighs against his lips, her hand gripping him tightly.

“Just wanted one more dance?” she asks as they part.

“And another, and another after that,” he admits.

“You drunk right now?”

Lenny shakes his head.

“You other things?” Midge asks.

Another head shake. “It was too final, seeing you at the airport. Too much like...never again. It bothered me. And I know I should just let you go. But I never claimed to be a smart or strong man, Midge. Mostly I’m just weak and a slave to my proclivities, and I think you might be one of them.”

She grins a little. “So? You’re here tonight...I assume you’re back out west in the next few days. What do we do?”

“Keep dancing?” Lenny offers sheepishly.

“And after that?” Midge asks gently.

He gazes at her. “I’ve done crazier things than try to make a bi-coastal relationship work. There’s phones...wildly sexy letters...visits. And after all, I have a lease, not a mortgage...nothing says California is forever.”

Midge gazes at him softly, and thinks over his words. How good it all sounds. How she hasn’t been the least bit tempted by any of the men in her life since being with Lenny. How much she’s missed him. Just hearing his voice over the phone sounds so much better than going on dates with another man. “Yes.”

“Yes?” he asks quietly.

She nods and smiles. “Yeah. It’s a yes. Let’s make it work.”

The smile she receives for her response is one she’s never seen on his face before, and she kisses it tenderly, before turning back to the record player, setting it to replay the song.