#I just need to. sit outside in the sun and read with a dog on my lap. or alternatively lay on the couch in the living room and watch movie
love everyone so much if u asked me to hang out the last couple weeks I want u to know I had so much fun and I dream of kissing u in the moonlight however. if anyone asks me to do anything this next weekend I'm going to scream and cry and throw up
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The little bean: Anthony Bridgerton x pregnant!wife!reader
A/N: So..... After my "Too much" series I've been asked to do something with Antony and pregnancy trope. And since 1) I got baby fever and 2) Bridgertons are back, there is no better time than now.
***
“Y/N, my love, what are you doing?”
“I’m holding a book…?”
Ever since Y/N found out she was pregnant with the heir (which she would rather address as her precious little baby, instead of giving him titles before he or she was even born) Anthony entered right into an overprotective mood. If anything he would just keep her home, away from any prying eyes, that – in his opinion – might somehow take a look inside, at his baby and perhaps, see the little one before it came into the view of a proud viscount father.
Y/N could barely walk around the Bridgerton household, let alone the garden, without her husband chasing after her with a very concerned look, ready to carry her wherever she wished, just so that her feet wouldn’t touch the ground.
There were so many dangers on the way after all.
Wild animals. (i.e. bees, dogs and strays cats)
Speeding carriages.
Stones on which she might trip and fall.
Too much sun.
Too little sun.
And worst of all-
Members of the ton.
It was merely the first trimester and viscountess was torn between calming Anthony down (tactfully avoiding the information that the next months will be much more challenging) or just rushing away to her mother-in-law (yet, again) to seek aid in keeping him in check.
And just when she thought the oldest Bridgerton could not get any more obsessive, he took the lecture she was reading out of her hands.
“My dear, you cannot carry such weights. It’s straining and I am to protect you from threats.”
“It’s a book…” she frowned a little, but not without a hint of amusement in her voice
“It’s heavy.”
“It's a 200 page novel…”
“It’s heavy.” Anthony’s voice was gentle, but firm. Both demanding and pleading.
“Anthony…”
“Y/N.”
“I can hold my own book.”
“We got servants for that. In fact – let me call upon your maid and –“ he started walking towards the door in sheer purpose to liberate his dearest wife from the unnecessary burden.
Nonetheless his dearest wife had quite a different plan, reaching to grab his hand and stopping him in his tracks.
“My love. Please, come. Let us sit.” She guided him to the ottoman, still keeping the soft touch that was grounding to him.
Much to her surprise Anthony rushed to the furniture first, fixing pillows and blankets so Y/N could sit comfortably. And apparently that word, in his language, meant sitting half a meter in the air, covered from head to toe, regardless of the perfect spring weather outside.
“Here. Perfect.” He flashed a perfect smile, content with the spot he made for her.
“Anthony…”
“Yes, my love?” as he spun around meeting with her desperate look, the smile slowly disappeared from his face. “Y/N? Are you not feeling well?” Anthony grabbed both her hands in his, searching her face for any symptoms of malaise, dizziness, nausea. “Do you need some water? Or-“
“No, no, Anthony, please just listen to me for a moment-“
“Perhaps I should call upon Daphne, she already had a child of her own and she would be of help. Or maybe my mother could-“
“Anthony!” she laughed whole-heartedly at his feverishness “I am not going to give birth in the fourth month of pregnancy! Please just calm down.”
“Just say a word and I’ll call for a medic immediately. Do not fret my dearest, I will take the best care of you. I swear on my life that-“
At that moment Y/N used the most effective way to stop his blubbering in the form of putting his hand on her slightly rounded belly in which their baby was healthily growing.
“Shh.” She whispered, putting her own palm on top of Anthony's, calming him down, letting him caress the stomach in hope to make him calm down. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. I don’t need medic. Nor your mother. And certainly not your younger sister. I am feeling good and the only thing that concerns me is my husband's distress over nothing.”
“Nothing? You are carrying our baby!”
“And our baby needs his father to stop fretting.”
“But-“
“Here!” her eyes grew wide as she guided his hand to another place “did you feel it?”
“Was it--?” Anthony’s face expression mirrored the one of his wife.
“It kicked…” she whispered as their gazes met and for a second that extended into eternity, they just kept looking into each other’s eyes expressing so many feelings.
And then, almost as if in a dream, Anthony fell to his knees in front of Y/N, pressing his head into her belly.
“Our baby.” He whispered, kissing her body through the material of the dress. “our little baby.” He wrapped arms around her midsection with his ear pressed to the home of the child, almost hoping to hear him or her inside.
“Our baby…” she repeated with tears in her eyes. Despite knowing and obviously – feeling the imminent arrival of the new family member it was the first time she actually felt and knew. And it was beautiful. Her little bean was really there. Growing and waiting for the right moment to appear in the world, landing right into the waiting, safe arms of loving mother and father.
“Do you think it can hear us?” Anthony pressed one ear to her stomach, his entire face lighting up at the possibility.
“Depends.” She chuckled
“On what?” his eyes travelled up to meet hers.
“If I say yes, will that mean you start talking to my insides?”
Anthony smirked.
“I will do that, even if you say no.”
“Then why the question?”
“Testing your knowledge.”
“I am not a doctor, Anthony. My expertise in the area might be a little limited.”
“Very well. Then give me an answer as a mother, not a medic.”
“Yes. Yes, I think it can hear us.” She cupped Anthony’s cheek in the affectionate gesture. There was something utterly heartening in seeing him like this. Holding her (and/or the baby) like she was the most precious thing in the world, needing the assurance that his child was already reaching to him.
That it could hear him, even if it wasn’t even born yet. Hoping for the love of the Lord that it was truly happening. That in a few months, that were going to pass by with extraordinary speed, the little one, a girl or a boy, would take a corporal form. That the viscount would not only be a noble and a husband but would also take on the new role – a father. A protector. Caregiver. A teacher, guardian and a guide. That somehow – his life would be complete. He’ll have his own little family. Something that was nearly impossible to him a few years prior.
And now-
“Anthony…” Y/N whispered, wiping a single tear from his eyes. “Sweetheart, what is wrong?”
“Nothing. Nothing is wrong, love. It’s all perfect.”
“Then why are you-?”
“I’m not.” He cleared his throat and gathered himself.
“Of course not.” She laughed softly brushing his hair. “But if you’d want to actually talk to the baby, that would stay in this little circle.”
Anthony smiled lovingly, grateful for having his miracle of a woman in his life. She understood him so perfectly well.
“We’re waiting for you, little one.” He whispered against her attire, with a little muffled voice, be it from emotions or closeness of his lips on her body. “You are already loved by two people, with more to come.”
‘You can say it Anthony…” Y/N whispered, knowing what he was holding back.
“I love you my little one.” The viscount whispered with the softest voice, caressing the place where the kick was previously felt.
And they stood like that for a while longer, enjoying that moment of joy and thinking about the future that looked quite bright.
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The Mountain Is You
Part 2 of 'Our Sun Is Setting'
Can confirm this part is much lighter than the first! I enjoyed writing this, I hope you like it :)
Barcelona. Once a place that felt like home to you, yet now as you clamber into the back of your taxi outside of the airport, it's the same but different.
Same sun, different warmth. Same air, different atmosphere. Same airport, different kind of departure.
Same person tying you down to this city, different dynamic.
If you thought a lot could change in two days, you had no idea what could happen in eighteen months. Turns out, a lot could change too, but thankfully for the sake of your sanity, the mental blows were not so big and not so frequent this time around. You doubt you would be in this situation now, back in the city you love, if it wasn't for your grandparents. They welcomed you with open arms and endless amounts of baked goods as soon as they caught wind of you coming home.
For the first month you stayed with them, most of that time was spent in the spare bedroom they made up for you, not quite holding the confidence or will power to do much else other than feel sorry for yourself. Some days you would walk their dog with them, other days you wouldn't leave the room. Some days you would do as many chores possible for them as a thank you, other days your Grandmother would sit beside you up against the headboard whilst you lay beside her as she read her book out loud, one hand gently running through your hair as she went. Some days you'd all laugh about shared memories of your Mother, other days you'd cry into each other's arms.
Something clicked inside you along the way though. One day you just woke up with a certain determination, and the look on your Grandfather's face as you wandered into the kitchen at 7am was enough to force a few giggles out of you before ushering him to join you on an early morning walk. That was when you voiced your new thoughts to him.
"I think I'm going to start applying for jobs again soon. You know, get out of your hair a little bit." You said to him, smiling when he tutted and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
"Don't be ridiculous. We're happier than we have been in a while now that you're with us, sunshine." He replied honestly, hugging you into his side.
"I know. I'm happy too, but I do want a job. What job, I'm not sure yet, but I'm going to start looking."
"You don't have to pressure yourself though, okay? If you change your mind at any point, that's perfectly fine. Just do it at your own pace. If you would like, you could print off your CV for me and Granny to hand in to places."
"That's fine, Grandad, you don't have to." You laughed lightly at his suggestion, bringing your hand up to cover his that rested on your shoulder. "Everything is online nowadays."
"Of course. That rules me and Gran out the question then, in terms of advice." He grumbled jokingly, though his classic, cheeky smile rests on his face. "Absolutely no help for you there, sweetheart."
"I didn't think there would be any anyway. I've seen Grandma use the microwave." The pair of you laugh at that, before it falls silent as you walk along the cliff-top coastline. The tone of the conversation shifts a bit when you speak again. "I think I'm also going to start seeing a therapist. You know, for everything that's happened."
"Okay, love. Whatever is best for you." And that's all the reassurance you needed.
The job hunt would forever be an aspect of life you despised. But, two months later, you had secured a job within the local area that you chose to walk to most days, a piece of advice from your new therapist that at first you hated but soon it was your favourite part of your daily routine. Apart from when it rained, obviously.
Things were going well though, surprisingly well, and it set in one evening as you sat in the back garden, watching your grandparents gardening, that the choice you made a few months prior was the right one.
You had managed to keep a certain Spaniard out of your mind for most of the time after that first month of being away from her, until one night you got a notification on your phone.
Spain win the FIFA World Cup after a 1-0 victory against England!
What was the right move now? Text her to congratulate her? Or is no contact best for the time being? Would texting her give her false hope? This was arguably the biggest achievement of her career, her whole life, but as a figure of the past, was it right to dredge everything back up again at such a joyful time?
Your hands faltered over your still cracked phone screen, unsure what to do in such an unusual situation. There was no handbook on what to do if your ex-girlfriend, who you're still in love with and who (hopefully) still loves you too, wins the biggest trophy of her career, nor could a google search be any assistance. And unfortunately, as perfect as they are, your grandparents that had been married for over fifty years now may not be any help either.
So, the only decision you could land on, no matter how much you didn't like it, was to leave it.
Until your finger slipped and liked her celebratory Instagram post later that night. You still followed each other on social media, too reluctant to get rid of that remaining bridge, but your Instagram had lain dormant ever since you had left. That meant you had some insight into Alexia's life post-breakup, guiltily indulging in a late night scroll every now and then which you found yourself in now, whilst she had no idea what you were up to or even if you were alive.
Well, at least she knew you were still here and you still cared for her. Could that be shown in one single social media interaction? You hoped so. Maybe that was a tad bit dramatic though. What else were you supposed to do?
You had the same reaction a year later as you watched Alexia captain her team to an unfortunate loss in the Olympics final. However, it was still a silver Olympic medal, and not many athletes could say they have one of those. A congratulatory text from you may have seemed like the start of a pity party though, so once again you opted out of it. Time and place and all that.
A year on and you were in a much better place, there were no two ways about it. Therapy was difficult, of course it was, but people were right when they say it's one of the best things to do for yourself. You don't think you'd ever been better. Subsequently, that led to an inevitable topic to come into discussion during one session.
"What do you think the... repercussions would be if I... went back to Barcelona?" You asked nervously, looking down at your hands as they fidgeted in your lap.
"It depends what you went to get out of it. Would you go for the city itself? Or for her?"
For some reason, in your sessions, your therapist hardly ever named Alexia. It was always 'her' or 'she', never her name. You figured it was so that you never shied away from the subject which was probably close to being the hardest to talk about, but you were too afraid to ask.
"Both." You answered initially. Your therapist stayed quiet of course, waiting for you to answer truthfully, something she again always did. "Her. Mostly."
"Do you think you're in the headspace for it? You've made so much progress since we first started, so you need to think if it'll aid the healing process or cause a regression."
"Well, she wasn't the problem in the first place. Everything she did for me was perfect, it was the relationship as a whole rather than her specifically. She was... she was perfect." You smiled sadly as you reminisced on your time with her. She really was perfect. "But I was the problem, I think. I was the one suppressing so much stuff and... when I was on my own compared to when I was with her, I was two completely different people. It was like light and day. She had a great effect on me, but I guess it's just figuring out if that was healthy or not. That difference in characters, in mindset."
"See? You've learnt so much from this already. Maybe you should just sit in front of a mirror and talk to yourself, you'd save a lot of money." Your therapist jokes, the pair of you laughing lightly. "So, let's get talking then. Let's figure this out."
And you did. You spent the rest of the session discussing whether it would be suitable for you to go back to Barcelona. The conclusion you came to was a very favourable one, one that made you nervously excited. But what would Alexia be like? Had she moved on? Would she still value you the same? Or would you be old news now? Only time could tell.
The only thing you knew was that it is so much darker after a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone, and that was the case with Alexia. Perhaps your life wouldn't have been so flipped upside down if you hadn't had met her; such a sweet and loving soul, the purest and brighest light shining onto every dark crevice you'd ever hidden. You'd had a taste of her, and you'd be damned if you didn't at least try for her again. Alexia Putellas wasn't one to lose, and you'd been fortunate to have her in the first place. If it was a one time thing, maybe you'd have to come to terms with that being the case. But for now, getting to Barcelona was just the first step.
Your grandparents definitely approved of you going back, no matter how long for, whether it be one day or one month or perhaps forever. At some point in the past year you had opened up to them about Alexia and they were heartbroken for you. Of course they would be. Your hearts were one and the same. They were the biggest advocates in getting you to go back and see Alexia, and even if Alexia didn't want to see you, you were still going to go to Barcelona. You had friends there, you'd lived a whole life there for just over a year, you'd fallen in love with it before you'd even met Alexia, so regardless of her opinion (even if it did sting like hell) you're still going.
When you booked your flight there, with no return ticket just yet, your grandparents had cheered and dragged you up from the armchair to dance with them along to the music from their old radio. It was a core memory, absolutely, and you'd be lying if you said a part of you wasn't hoping to share this memory one day with Alexia.
However, the day came where you had to do the thing you'd been most afraid of. Contacting Alexia. It was an occasion that definitely called for an emergency video call with your therapist who was very pleased to meet your grandparents for the first time, albeit over Zoom, and the three of them offered any and all advice you'd take until you had carefully curated a text message to send to her.
You:
Hey Alexia, I hope you're doing well. Feel free to ignore this, but I'm coming back to Barcelona soon and I was wondering if you wanted to catch up? If you don't want to, I completely understand. It's been a while and we've both lived our lives without each other in it, so no pressure at all. Let me know if you're open to it. Take care x
Almost immediately, the message was read by her. And just as quickly, the typing icon came up. Safe to say, your grandparents were freaking out just as much as you were.
Alexia:
Wow, it is so good to hear from you. I'm doing well and I really hope things are much better for you. I've been dreaming of hearing from you since the moment you left. I absolutely want to see you again, I don't care how long it's been, so let me know when you're coming and I'll see you as soon as I can. Espero verte pronto, cuídate x
Any longer and your jaw would have been lodged into its place hanging wide open. She wanted to see you just as much as you wanted to see her. The feeling of relief that washed over you upon reading it was gone as quick as it arrived; instead, you were now filled with nerves. No, not nerves, butterflies.
And that's where you found yourself now, your taxi driver navigating the streets of Barcelona towards your hotel in mid-October. It was reaching the evening, so your plan was to start off the trip calmly with a walk around the city to re-familiarise yourself before sunset, then just order some room service for dinner. Simple, but the right way to start what would probably be a bit of a challenging trip mentally.
Despite the low-key nature of the day, you could hardly sleep later that night. There was only one reason, it was obvious. You and Alexia had plans to meet for lunch the next day after her training session. You can't recall an event in your life you had ever felt so excited for, you felt like a kid on Christmas Eve again. A few doubts trickled into your mind every now and then, but you'd grafted for too long now for petty worries to tear down the confidence you had built.
Of course you were eager to see the woman you loved again for the first time in eighteen months, but there was a bigger part of you that was desperate for her to see the progress you'd made. You were proud, and it had taken a lot to get to this point. You wanted to share your pride with her and show her the person you always knew you could be all along. All of your efforts, your hard-work, and your sacrifices had been worth it. You were right to feel proud. And after all, sacrifices were given that name for a reason.
When you did eventually fall asleep, it was with images of Alexia circling in your mind, hoping she still had a place in her heart for you and that she'd love you again for who you are now and not who you were.
Finally, finally, the time came to see Alexia again. You weren't really sure what to expect; it was a unique situation with exceptional circumstances, and you were trying desperately not to put too much pressure on the day. Yet, you were a despairingly hopeful person and the anticipation was almost overwhelming as you were getting ready.
Contact between you both had been little but often, topics never delving too deep which you were so glad about as you wanted to talk to her properly face to face. You had to, it's the least she deserved. Over text, anything could be easily misinterpreted and you weren't about to ruin your chance with words getting lost in translation. Phone calls and FaceTimes were out of the question too, and you were grateful that your individual desperation wasn't getting in the way of going about this the correctly. By no means were you a perfectionist, but there were some things in life that were far too important to be ruined by a lack of patience and all-consuming desire.
Once again, your new and probably your healthiest habit came into play as you decided to walk under the bright October weather to the place Alexia had chosen for the occasion. Neutral ground of course; meeting at her apartment or your hotel room wasn't appropriate... yet.
You arrived at the quaint, little restaurant first, a coincidence you were more thankful for than you'd admit, and you chose to seat yourself at a table off to the side. A bit of privacy from strangers could go a long way for a day like today, you figured. You didn't really want a bunch of strangers to witness the influx of emotions you'd no doubt go through when Alexia arrived.
Soon though, that became a case of if Alexia would arrive, because ten minutes passed since you had arrived practically on time and there was still no sign of the woman. And, rather naïvely, you hadn't planned for her to stand you up. You and your therapist had almost fully mentally prepared you for every other outcome except that one. She did have training beforehand, perhaps that had ran late. Still, your mind was slowly spiralling into overdrive with each second that passed.
Until she did arrive.
The bell over the door rang faintly through the room as it opened hastily, a frantic looking Alexia entering the restaurant. She was really here. Here, basically racing over to you whilst weaving through the tables and chairs and the light scattering of people. Here, still as breathtakingly beautiful as ever. Still Alexia.
She came to a stop in front of you, both of you stuck in a trance as if the world had stopped spinning solely for this moment right here. An anticipatory and contemplative silence settled as your eyes' tracked over every feature of the other, a refresh for the memory of the face you'd so dearly missed.
Alexia was the first to speak - a breathless whisper of your name as if she was in disbelief that you were right in front of her. It triggered something in you, because before you had even realised, you had jumped up from your chair and wrapped your arms tightly around her; a hug you had been dying for for longer than you'd admit. It took a few seconds for her to react but soon, Alexia enveloped you just as emphatically.
The embrace was paired with a few more whispered chants of your name from Alexia - in this moment, for her, it felt like the past months without you she had just been floating through her life, waking up everyday as if it were a chore more than anything. But now, in your arms, she felt alive again. The time without you had been worth it for this single moment here.
"Hey." You mumbled quietly into her neck, smiling uncontrollably when the taller woman squeezed you impossibly more in response.
"Hi." Her voice cracked ever so slightly as she spoke. "Hi."
"You already said that." You teased her lightly, meeting her gaze when she moved back to look at you properly. One of her hands came up to delicately cradle your cheek as if she was scared you would disintegrate at her touch. "Don't be so worried. I'm not going anywhere right now."
"You better not." Alexia murmured, her eyes boring down at you so deeply that it caused your breath to hitch in your throat. "I can't believe you're here."
You blushed at the intensity of her look, gesturing a hand down your body jokingly.
"Live in the flesh." You grinned cheekily, gasping slightly when she pulled you back into herself. "Ale."
"Say that again." She said so quietly you almost missed it.
"Alexia. Ale." You repeated, along with a light kiss to her cheek. She physically deflated in your arms, all the tension you didn't even realise was there dissipating immediately. You saying her name was like the last confirmation she needed that yes, you were actually here.
"I..." She started, leaning back and shaking her head whilst letting out a shaky breath. "I missed you. So much."
You smile and... almost instinctively lean in to kiss her - what were you doing?
"I missed you too." You replied, willing yourself to not ruin it, not now, not when you've made it so far. "I really did."
She returned a smile and reluctantly lets go of you in favour of finally taking a seat at the table. You sit across from her and realise that most of the tables were quite small and intimate, and if you had any remaining functional thought processes left that weren't all occupied by Alexia, you would have thought she'd chosen this restaurant for that specific feature. Your knees grazed against each other under the table and Alexia couldn't stop herself from travelling the small distance with her hands to grasp one of yours with both of hers.
"How are you?"
"Well, that's quite a question. Do you want the short answer or the long answer?" You answer humorously, Alexia shrugging.
"Whatever you want. Say it all or say nothing, I'm just glad to be in your company again." You can't help but swoon a little at her words. "But... I would really like it if you were honest with me. And open. Though I understand if not."
"I'm happy to tell you it all. You best have your listening ears on though." You say, delighted to hear her laugh.
"I do, I swear."
At that, you explain everything from start to finish. From the days you spent in bed, to the first therapy session you had, to the moment you opened up to your grandparents, all the way to the point where you made the decision to come back to Barcelona. The only slightly annoying and poorly timed interruption was from the waiter who asked for your orders, the pair of you quickly apologising and taking one glance at the menu before ordering the first thing that caught your eye.
She listened intently to every word you had to say, not afraid to ask a question every now and then whilst also respecting the privacy you still had every right to. Alexia didn't really feel like you absolutely owed her anything, she just wanted a little context to it all, a little closure and an update on your current state of mind. She just wanted you to be well, she just wanted you.
The whole time you spoke, she simply gazed at you with such a soft and earnest look in her eyes. With her presence that, despite all that time, still had the greatest effect on you paired with your newfound self, you were at peace here.
"You promise that you're better now?" She raises her hand up to you, waiting for you to link fingers with her to secure your truth. And this time, you weren't lying when you answered her.
"I'm so much better." You stated with a shy smile, and that statement felt like the final nail in the coffin to the whole journey you'd been on the past two years.
"You don't know how happy I am to hear that." Alexia revealed with a disbelieving shake of her head. You lift your shoulders in a dismissive shrug, glancing down at your joined hands in the centre of the table.
"Are you... are you angry at me?" You ask. You weren't perfect still, you still had doubts and insecurities.
"What would I be angry about?" Her nose scrunched up in genuine confusion.
"Any of it. All of it."
"Hey." She said, nudging your hand to try and gain your attention. You look up at her and blush a little. "Do I seem angry?" You ponder that for a moment, eyes searching her face, before shaking your head no. "Good, because I'm not. Not at all. What person would I be to react like that?"
"An asshole." You mumble, the pair of you breaking out into laughter after a second.
"I'm proud of you and happy for you. You..." Alexia sighs and pauses, wondering if it's the right time to say what she wanted to say. It's her turn to focus her attention on your hands as she mindlessly traced random shapes on the back of your hand with her finger. "This new version of you, I can see that you're less... weighed down by things. There is a different look in your eyes and though I can't quite describe it yet, I know it's a sign that you feel better and more at peace with yourself. That is all I could wish for, for the person I love."
Sorry, what was that?
"Uh, you sti- you still love me?" You stuttered. You just had to know.
"Yes. I do." Alexia confirms, a sheepish smile on her face. "I was being truthful before you left when I said that I'll always love you. Maybe I shouldn't have said this now. You don't have to love me still. I would... I would understand."
"No, Ale, what?" You shook your head at her and squeezed her hands tightly. "I love you. I'll always love you too. Why do you think I wouldn't love you?"
"Why would you think I wouldn't love you?" She hits back, resulting in you both laughing shyly. "It would have to be really crazy situations for me to not love you, chiqui."
"Was this not a crazy situation? Me dramatically fleeing the country out of nowhere?"
"No, and don't say it like that. You had every reason to leave, okay? I told you that when you left and I'll still tell you that now. I don't resent you for choosing yourself." Alexia argues firmly, bringing your hand up to her mouth so that she could kiss the back of it reassuringly. She halts for a moment, wondering if it's appropriate to do so, but judging by the redness of your cheeks she decides to go through with it. "I... just had a few doubts about this all, but now that you're here my mind has calmed down now."
"Are you okay?" You blurt out.
At the mention of herself, your concern immediately turned to Alexia and how she coped through all this. If you knew her as well as you thought you did, you had a feeling you knew what her immediate reaction would be.
"What do you mean?"
Exactly what you guessed.
"I haven't checked up on you yet. I want to know how you've been doing." You answer, shifting forward slightly so that you were closer to her.
"Why check up on me?" Alexia chuckles nervously.
"Because your girlfriend walked out on you and went off the grid for a year and a half. Forget about me right now, Ale, I want to know how you are."
She pauses looking at you, an internal battle going on behind her eyes that you're all too familiar with, until she sighs once more and her demeanour drops.
"Well, I was worried about you, firstly. Everyday I woke up you were the first thing I thought about and the last thing in my mind before I slept. I don't think you ever left my mind, not for long anyway. I wanted the best for you. And then I guess... I had a few selfish thoughts too. But as I said, you're here, and I don't need to think about them anymore." Alexia told you, a tight-lipped smile on her face. "I don't want to say them now, today is about you."
"No, Alexia, it's not. It's a day for both of us." You urge her to understand that it's okay for her to open up, that it's been a hard time for her too, but part of you knows you most likely won't get that out of her today.
"Amor, please. Let's do this another time, for now just focus on the positive. We can talk about me any other time, just not now, please." She begs with a pleading look in her eyes. "I am okay, I swear. You being here has solved everything, it's the truth."
"Promise you'll open up at some point soon?" It's your turn to hold your hand up for her to make a promise.
"As long as you stay long enough." She jokes, but it's clear to see there is some fear and insecurity there. She does link her finger with yours though, a sentiment that's never lost on you. "How long are you staying for?"
"That's the thing. I don't really have a return date yet." You admit, and the flash of hope in Alexia's eyes ignites a feeling of longing inside of you.
Forget timings and socially standardised timelines of falling in love or healing or whatever it was you were doing, you didn't care anymore. Why delay the inevitable process? You were in love with her and she was in love with you. Taking it slow was overrated anyway.
"What does that mean?" Alexia asks, her heart palpitating at the prospect of your answer.
"It means... anything, Ale. What do you want it to mean?"
Perhaps answering questions with another question wasn't the best habit you'd picked up from your therapist.
"You want the truth?" You nod instantly, your emotions already bubbling and she hasn't even said anything yet. "As long as you are ready for it, and you must swear to me that you are because I don't want to h-"
"Oh my god, just say it, please." You beg, eyes wide in hopeful anticipation, waiting for her to admit the thing you had yearned for all these months.
"I want you back in my life, permanently. I want to be your girlfriend again. No matter how long it takes, no matter how slow you decide to take things, the thing I've wished for all this time is to just be yours again, to have you as mine. I'll do anything to make that happen, I swear by it. You want me to throw stones at your hotel window? I'll do it. You want me to sneak onto your balcony in the middle of the night? I'll do that. You want me to stand outside your door with a loudspeaker and signs? I already have the speaker and words prepared. I'll even stand in the centre of Montjuïc at the next game and sing for you if you really want."
You laugh at every ridiculous idea of devotion that comes out of her mouth, eyes glossy with unshed tears. Except, this time, the tears aren't ones of sorrow or longing, they're tears of exultation and relief. Alexia had waited for you, all this time. There had been no one else for her and no matter how selfish it was, it's the best revelation you've ever had.
"I don't think the culers would be too happy about you singing." You teased, rolling your eyes at the smug and nonchalant shrug she gave.
"I don't care, because it wouldn't be for them, it would be for you." She smirks, leaning in closer. Your foreheads were mere inches about now, a fact neither of you could ignore.
"You sure you want me back?" You mumbled shyly. It was Alexia's turn to roll her eyes now as she fought back the temptation to kiss the doubt off of your lips.
"I want nothing more than I want you." She responded, sounding so sure of herself that it was intoxicatingly enticing.
"Even if it's long distance for a little while?"
"Even then." Alexia smiles, resting her arms on her elbows as she brought your joined hands up together to rest in between you both. She pressed her lips to your hands once more, eyes closed as she does so, before looking back into your eyes. "We will figure out the logistics another time. For now, all I know is that I have the love of my life back and I want to spend every second I can with her before she leaves."
"Love of your life, hm?" You whisper with a shy grin, Alexia grunting at how you teased her for her softness. It was something you'd always done, and she was grateful that that part of you hadn't changed. "Well, what do we do now?"
"I'm hoping that you will let me kiss you, finally."
"In here? With all these people?" There really weren't that many people in there, and the few that were wouldn't even take notice of the sickeningly sweet moment occuring.
"Sí. Déjame besarte, por favor." The sound of Alexia speaking Spanish was something you could never get over, it did things to you everytime. How could you deny her when she spoke like she did?
"I guess." You rolled your eyes and sighed dramatically as if it was such an inconvenience.
Alexia simply grinned and planted both her hands on your cheeks before surging forward to kiss you. However, she pauses for a moment, just taking in your appearance and letting out a huff of disbelieved laughter, then she finally presses her lips against yours. A quiet, muffled moan leaves your throat before you can stop it, and the sound of it causes Alexia to smirk smugly. Frustratingly, the stupid but irresistible thing made it aggravatingly difficult to kiss the life out of her like you so wanted to. The smirk was wiped off of Alexia's face the second you broke the kiss much sooner than she wanted to.
"What's wro-"
"I can't kiss you how I want to when you're grinning like a maniac, pendeja!" You groan, butting your forehead against hers to further emphasise your annoyance.
"Pobrecita bebé." Alexia pouts sarcastically at you whilst gently grasping your chin with her thumb and forefinger. That idiotic, childish grin soon forced its way back where it belongs, and you can't help but smile at the sight of it. "I can't help it, amor! What do you want me to do?"
"Be normal and not do that stupid smirk!"
"Oh, perdóname, I'm sorry I'm so happy that I have you back!" Alexia exclaims, arguing solely to rile you up. What people didn't know about this layered Catalan is that she loved bickering with you or just annoying you in general. You didn't realise quite how much you missed it until this moment now.
"I swear to god, stop being so infuriating and just get o-"
And get on with it she did. You couldn't even finish your sentence before she silenced you in one of the best ways you could think of. And god bless the poor waiter who just wanted to do his job, because when he came to give you your meals, the sight he walked up to was somewhat less than PG. The young guy, who honestly looked no older than 18, cleared his throat louder than normal and the pair of you jumped a mile apart at the unexpected presence. Alexia had to grip the edge of the table to prevent her chair from tipping back, trying desperately to disguise her embarrassment with a tight-lipped smile and rambled thanks to the boy, all the whilst you had to stifle what would be a very loud belly laugh.
"Calláte, that was your fault." Alexia hushed out, her eyes scanning the room to figure out if anyone else had just witnessed that monstrosity. Meanwhile, your face was now bright red due to the laughter threatening to escape out from behind your palm that covered your mouth. It was Alexia's fault really, the shot burst of laughter that barrelled out of you, because she kicked you in the shin as she sipped from the water that had been dropped off at some point during the afternoon. "Dios mío, what is wrong with you!?"
"Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry." You choked out. You took a page from Alexia's book and drank some of your water. As you did, you noticed that Alexia's face wasn't contorted to one of irritation, it was the face she did when she was trying to suppress the overwhelming amount of joy she felt. As someone who was so keen to convey a certain persona, it was one you'd seen a few times since you'd known her, and this was perhaps your favourite look of hers. "I think you'll find it was your awkwardness that was at fault, Ale."
"Yeah, yeah. Eat your food, idiota."
There were periods of peaceful silence as you ate, some conversation here and there, but despite all that has and hasn't been said so far, it felt like there wasn't anything that needed to be uttered. You were both content to enjoy each other's presence again, your eyes meeting every other moment as you ate which resulted in you both blushing and laughing like lovesick teenagers.
It really was tooth-rottingly sweet, and though the dynamic wasn't all too different than it was before, there was solace found in the knowledge that a lot of things had been changed for the better. The prospect of it all was exhilarating, a new path for you both to walk together, and for you there were no longer question marks looming over every part of your life.
The main thing that hadn't changed too much for you, a thing you were relieved about, was the way Alexia made you feel. It was the same as it used to be, except about a million times better. There wasn't so much guilt or gloom that was masked by Alexia, it was all genuine and you already knew that feeling would bleed into your everyday life with her around.
"You said you told your grandparents about me?" Alexia wondered, sitting back in her chair with her hands linked over her stomach.
"I did. They said if this goes well, I have to bring back Barça shirts for them." You revealed with a smile, Alexia chuckling.
"I can organise that for them. As well as tickets to a game if they'd like."
"Alright, Miss Marketing." You roll your eyes at her offer, pausing to take a sip from your half-full glass. "We get it, you love your club. You don't have to spread the message like a missionary."
"I have to win them over some way." Alexia laughs, before her face turns a little more serious and you have a feeling you know what she's about to bring up. "What about your... Dad?"
"Haven't spoken to him since the day I left." You answer, eyes focused on the tracks your finger left behind on the condensation of the glass as it ran around the curve of it. "No idea what he's doing or where he is. Just know that he's alive and that's all I have the energy to care about."
"That's good for you, amor. He doesn't deserve you."
"I know that." You smile genuinely at her, and that's another one of her worries she had for you erased. "I think, out of anyone, my therapist is the one you must give tickets to."
"Mm, yes. I must meet this magical woman one day, I owe my life to her." That charming smirk is back on her face, and you blush at that as well as the sentiment she holds in her words.
"I don't want this meal to end." You mumble in a disheartened voice, reaching your hand across the small gap between you both to grasp one of the hands on her stomach.
"It... it doesn't have to, amor." Alexia starts, catching your attention as you look up to meet her eyes. "You could come over to my apartment. It's been a while since you've been there. The indentation on my balcony chair has left, I think you need to reinstate it."
You roll your eyes at her humour, a soft smile on your face at the laugh she gives at her own jokes. You do think the offer over though - is it too soon? Maybe, but if this counted as a first date, milestones were out the window considering you'd already confessed your love for each other. Did time and patience count when it came to re-conciliating a relationship? Screw it, who cares.
"I'd be happy to come over, Ale. If you want that."
"Are you sure? Because I would love that, except I don't want to rush you or ruin anything if we move too fast."
"Fuck that. I know what I want now and that's you. Who cares what is too fast. I've delayed our relationship once already, I'm not doing that again."
She stares at you from across the table and if it was possible, you'd say her pupils were the shape of a heart with the look she fixed you with. Then she was standing out of nowhere, shrugging her jacket back on whilst you watched her, completely confused, until she held her hand out for you.
"Let's go, ay?" She hums, wiggling her fingers to urge you to move. "No wasting time, you said."
You jut your tongue into your cheek, heart fluttering at her forwardness, and gather your own coat before taking her hand. She presses a soft kiss to your cheek before guiding you towards the exit with a hand on your lower back, a notion she's always done and one you'll always adore.
Silently, she leads you to her car that's parked around the corner and watches with a shy but proud smile as you climb into the passenger side of the car. With every little thing you did, whether that was humming contently as you ate your food or smiling at her absentmindedly every time she spoke, or even just blinking and breathing, she realised she could never verbalise the love she held for you because she'd never experienced it before in her life, ever. Not with pets, not with friends, not with her family. It was otherworldly, unexplainable, and though she wasn't religious, her devotion to you was just as close to that.
Again, there is just light, scattered chatter as she drives you back to one of your favourite places in the world, and once more she guides you to the elevator with her palm pressed to your back. As you stand in the lift, shoulder to shoulder, there are modestly triumphant smiles on your faces, a wordless shared notion sitting between you that everything was worth it in the end. Even if it took a journey and a half to get there, the climb was always worth it for the view at the top.
"What would you like to do now?" Alexia asks as she unlocks her door and allows you to step in before her.
"Uh, can we chill on the balcony? You know it's my favourite spot." You reply with a grin, and Alexia somehow knew you were going to say that, almost as if she's heard those words leave your mouth maybe a few hundred times in the past.
"Of course. You go ahead, I'll get us some drinks."
You nod and walk through to her bedroom, one thing standing out to you; everything is exactly the same as it was before. That comforts you impossibly more than you yourself could ever understand. Future therapy topic?
However, there is one thing that jumps out at you. You walk over to where it stands on Alexia's dresser and pick it up, holding the object in your hand with a smile on your face.
"Ale, why do you have my favourite perfume here? I never once brought it to your apartment." You shout to where she was in the kitchen, no doubt her cheeks a bright pink colour at the fact she'd been caught out.
"Because I bought some, after you left." She replied, and you giggle to yourself at the ever so slightly embarrassed tone that creeps through.
"Liked the smell, did you?"
"Mm. Something like that." She grumbled.
You grin and place it down, heading over to the sliding door adjacent to her bed and opening it. The air that hits you and the sight that greets you causes a wave of familiarity to wash over you, one that you welcome straight away. You take a deep breath and bask in the feeling, leaning on the railing as your eyes raked over the view you adored.
A few minutes later and you hear Alexia walking out behind you, first placing the drinks on the small side table before joining you at the edge. She wraps an arm loosely around your waist and rests her chin on your shoulder, admiring the view of the city that was literally right on her doorstep.
"I missed this view." You break the silence first, voicing what Alexia already knew.
"I missed you." She murmurs, turning to press a kiss to your shoulder when she notices something. "Ah, I knew you never gave that back."
Delicately, she runs her index finger along the necklace that sat around your neck which she had gifted you way back when, quietly delighted to see you still wearing it. And it also aided her in not feeling so embarrassed about the earlier incident where you had found the perfume she bought in memory of you.
"Yeah, sorry about that." You mumble sheepishly, shivering when Alexia chuckles into your neck where her lips soon leave a kiss.
"No, I like that you still have it."
You hum in acknowledgement, content to stay here in the arms of your girlfriend as the locals carried on with the hustle and bustle of city life below you.
"This was my favourite thing about your apartment." You state a little while later, leaning your head against Alexia's.
"I remember." You feel her say it more than you hear it, before a thought clearly captures her attention as she stands up fully, still with her arm around you. "You could come here, uh... full time, you know?"
"You mean move in with you?" It's not the most surprising thing you'd heard from her in all honesty, but it was still a bit of a shock to the system.
"If you'd like. I know I would be happy with that."
"I would too, but... I think that maybe does cross the line of 'too soon' though." You reply with an apologetic smile, but Alexia understands instantly, of course she does.
"That's okay." She comments, one more kiss to your shoulder. "Do you think you'll ever come back to live here again? Barcelona, I mean."
With this city before you, this woman holding you and loving you so gently, and the sea and the sky merging into one in the far distance, you think that maybe life can be simple after all. That starts and ends with Alexia.
"I think it's only a matter of time."
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hi!! i was curious if you would write something that starts out with barty x reader and evan is just friends with both of them before feeling like he’s impeding on their relationship (a little bit angsty if you’re comfortable with that) but barty and reader tell him that he’s not impeding at all and they’re actually very interested in him joining their relationship (totes no worries if not!!)
pairing: poly!rosekiller x reader
summary: request above!
word count: 1.8k
a/n: thank you for your your request, this somehow came much easier to me than i thought it would? (i’m blaming the fact that they have been consuming my every thought since last week) not proofread btw
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evan’s not sure when it started, when it started feeling less like evan hanging out with two of his close friends and more like evan third wheeling two of his closest friends.
he dislikes it, the change. it makes him feel silly, why does he want to spend this much time with two people who obviously have no obligation to him outside of friendship? (and why does he wish that would change?)
he watches you and barty stroll ahead of him in the streets of hogsmeade, inhibiting himself from increasing his walking speed to catch up to the two of you, to join in the boisterous laughter that you two share.
instead, he lets himself watch longingly of what he so wishes was his future. his eyes travel along the landscape of the small town, always finding his eyes making their way back to your shared figures ahead of him.
your hair catching the orange glare of the setting sun, comparable in brightness to the smile on barty’s face as he listens to you babble nonsensically about a novel you had been reading.
evan allows himself only a single moment to mourn, mourn a love he had never really had in the first place, but nonetheless mourn the loss.
he knew he could never tell either of you of his feelings, he had watched the both of you fall in love, the shared glances, lingering touches and lovesick gazes.
all of which he longed to experience yet knew that neither of you would ever reciprocate his feelings. so he tortured himself in spending his free time with you both, to limit suspicion, but ever so slightly, pulling away, tending to walk behind the both of you, instead of with, sitting behind the two of you in class but always paired with another classmate for projects. studying with the two of you in the library, but always leaving early with one or more excuses.
barty and you had noticed, of course you had, but chalked it up to evan only adjusting to the shift in dynamic between your trio. you both missed him dearly but never asked for him to stay in fear of pushing him further away.
and thus, in a viscious cycle, the three of you drifted further apart than ever before, each party too afraid of admitting that they missed the other and impeaching on unconscious boundaries.
however, as you and barty walk down hogsmeade, evan trailing behind the two of you like a glorified guard dog rather than your best friend, you murmur to your lover, “we need to talk to him” with a sad look.
barty turns to you with furrowed eyebrows, “what if he doesn’t want to talk?” he says and you can’t help but turn and pitifully look back at evan’s bored yet slightly sad expression.
“we have to try, i-we can’t lose him” you emphasize and barty nods in understanding before placing a hand on your cheek.
“we’ll talk with him when we reach the castle, okay angel?” he says with a soft murmur, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. you hum in acknowledgement before closing your eyes.
evan’s heart clenches at the sight of the two of you, so perfectly fit together, how could he ever compete? not that he wanted to, but he knew deep down that he would never be what either of you wanted nor needed and it was better to cut his losses than to have his heart broken unexpectedly.
as you reach the castle, you all make your way to the slytherin common room and up to barty and evan’s shared dorm. evan is about to make an excuse about studying in the library to avoid being alone with you two but before he can make his escape, your voice breaks the silence in the empty dorm.
“evan.” your tone is soft and calming, yet evan’s heart drops to his stomach, clenching painfully as he closes his eyes in an “oh fuck” moment.
he turns to you with a fake smile, beckoning you to continue, hoping whatever you’re going to say, it isn’t what he thinks it is.
“what’s going on?” so it’s exactly what he thinks it is, he doesn’t have to play into this, he doesn’t have to give you the answers you seek- “what’s what?” he asks as he shrugs, faking nonchalance at the situation.
you and barty share a look that has evan clenching his jaw, “you’re pulling away from us!” you accuse him. the silence that follows is defeaning, the only sound is evan’s sharp intake of breath.
“we don’t have to talk about this-“ evan says quickly as he looks alarmed at the both of you before barty scoffs.
“yes we fucking do” and there’s a ‘don’t argue with me’ tone in his voice. evan only avoids his gaze as he looks at his shoes and shrugs once again.
“it doesn’t matter-“ he says again with an avoidant tone, barty only growls in annoyance. “yes it fucking does evan! we miss you!” barty states loudly and evan can’t help but flinch as he meekly looks up and meets barty’s gaze.
you clench your jaw in hope that it stops the tears from welling in your eyes. “did we do something? to-make you uncomfortable?” your voice breaks midway and evan’s wide eyed gaze jumps to yours in alarm and worry at the tears in your eyes.
“no!-no.” he shakes his head with wide eyes, “fuck.” he says as he looks down again and blows out a breath as he rakes a hand through his messy blonde hair.
“it’s just-“ he blows out a frustrated breath. “i can’t do this” he shakes his head as his voice wobbles, you look at barty whose gaze is swimming in worry.
“evan” barty starts softly, in the same tone he uses just for you, evan flinches as he hears it and shakes his head again, this time more frantically as he pulls at his roots.
he looks at barty in an almost manic movement, looking comparably to a rabid animal backed into a corner. “don’t-“ he starts as he chokes up, “don’t use that fucking tone” he says as he wraps his arms around himself. “not-not when you use it with her, not when i know it doesn’t mean the same as thing” he stammers out as he backs himself more into the wall.
“evan” barty’s eyes soften and you look at him again before deciding to walk closer to evan, “is that what this is about?” you ask softly, your heart clenching as he withdraws from you further, not letting you come any further towards him.
“what else could it possibly be about!” he cries out and looks at the two of you, gaze jumping from both of your figures as tears fall steadily past his pale cheeks.
“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean for it to happen, it just did-”
“evan..”
“-and i tried to pull away but it just kept getting worse and you guys started noticing but didn’t say anything-”
“evan.”
“-i was trying to get over it, it was only a small crush! i would have never broken that boundary between the two of you-”
“EVAN!” the yell breaks evan out of his rambling as he looks at barty in shock.
“why didn’t you tell us?” you ask softly as your lip wobbles, your arms finding their way around your midsection in an attempt to self soothe your anxiety.
“tell you?!” evan cries incredulously as if the idea was implausible. “yes” barty says stiffly. “because you two are together?! and you don’t feel the same! which is understandable because i’m not really anything you should want but!-”
“who said we didn’t like you?” barty asks sternly and evan’s almost ramble is cut short as he looks at barty dumbfounded before turning his gaze to look at you as if to ask ‘did you just hear what your boyfriend just said or am i going insane?’ to which you look pointedly at him.
“well?” you prompt with a quirked brow, still somewhat shaking from the fear bubbling under your skin.
“well- i mean- nobody? but it’s implied when two people are in a committed relationship that they’re not really on the market anymore-“ evan starts before you butt in,“we’re not.”
you say helpfully before evan nods in acquiescence, “see!-so you would never-!”
“that doesn’t include you love” barty says with a huff, but you can tell by his voice there’s a small smile on his face as he watches evan struggle to come to terms with what your boyfriend is saying.
“you-? you two- want me?!” he asks, eyes widening and posture tensing. barty and you turn to each other with shared smiles before you turn to evan with a small shrug with a grin blooming over your face, “always have” you admit shyly and watch as evan blanches.
“uh-“ evan looks between the two of you, speechless.
“i’m going to walk up to you now love, i’d appreciate it if you’d let me hug you love, because if you don’t it might just break my heart” barty jokes with smirk before taking slow and cautious steps towards evan’s figure in the corner of the dorm.
evan allows himself to be comforted by the familiarity of barty’s arms around him, he melts into the hug as he exhales a breath of relief. he opens his eyes to meet your gaze behind barty’s back as you watch the two of them with a gentle smile on your face.
evan taps barty’s shoulder in a gentle touch to ask if he can let him go, barty pulls away slowly before looking into evan’s gaze, “i’m not good with communicating what i want, for that i’m sorry, but as far as i’ve been concerned, you’ve been mine since fourth year.” barty admits with heat in his gaze and evan’s mouth drops open as the other boy pulls away nonchalantly and walks back over to his bed on the other side of the dorm.
“you like me” evan states dumbly as he looks at you and you can’t help but have a small laugh at his expense before walking over to him in less cautious steps in comparison to barty, “seems so” you murmur as you stand in front of him with a small smile, letting him have the freedom to make the first move, should he choose to.
he blows out a breath before nodding and placing a hand on your cheek as he gazes into your eyes with adoration, leaning down and pressing his forehead to yours. he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply before you’re pulled into a comforting embrace. you slowly wrap your arms around his waist.
you both stand in a comfortable silence before barty’s voice breaks the silence, “can you two come and do that on the bed before i go and complain to regulus about being neglected?” he complains from the middle of his bed.
you two pull away and share a humorous glance before you walk hand in hand to his bed.
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"Be my Valentine?"
Warnings: none :)
Summary: Lando surprises you on Valentine's Day.
Word Count: 1k
Reading Time: 4min 12sec
A/N
I am so sorry for not updating again, but life has been really stressful lately. I sadly can't promise you that it is going to be better a school is about to start again but I'll try.
Love y'all Magdi <3
February 13th, tomorrow is Valentine's Day, and you just ended a call with Lando, who was currently in Barcelona testing the new car. When he first told you he would be away for the 14th, disappointment and sadness were the only emotions you felt.
Valentine's has been your favourite holiday since you were a little girl. It didn't matter if you had somebody or not. The pink hearts everywhere, the smell of roses in the air, and people all around being in love made it so special for you.
And for two years, you got to spend Valentine's with the love of your life, Lando Norris. Although every day was special with Lando, he always made extra efforts for the 14th, such as preparing breakfast in bed, presenting flowers in a rainbow of colours, and gifting sparkling jewellery.
So, him not being here home with you this year crushed your spirits for tomorrow completely. Lando felt incredibly bad when he found out when the tests were, but nothing prepared him for how the spark in your eyes disappeared when he told you.
Guilt was eating him up the entire trip to Barcelona. Even Oscar noticed and asked what was up.
------
After you hung up with Lando, you decided to cuddle yourself up on your couch and do some self-care while watching some nineties rom-com.
You knew it wasn't Lando's fault he didn't have a say in when the testing was going to be, but you were still really disappointed he couldn't be with you.
------
Your stiff back and sore neck were the result of you falling asleep on the couch yesterday. The TV was still running when you decided to get up and make yourself breakfast.
The second you unlock your phone, you are bombarded with posts of couples enjoying Valentine's Day together.
Letting out an annoyed huff, you throw your phone on the couch and decide to take a shower, wanting to escape all that valentines crap for a bit.
Afterwards, you felt way more refreshed and optimistic for the day. So you decided to throw on some of your favourite jeans and your most flattering top and head outside to the centre of Monaco.
------
You spend your whole day wandering through Monaco, strolling through a few shops and taking a few breaks in some cafes. And even though you were still a bit mad at Lando, an addition to Lando's Valentine's present made its way into your bag.
Your mood improved gradually throughout the day, but not hearing anything from Lando made it hard to stay positive. You texted him, "goodmorning ❤️" to show him you were not ignoring or mad at him.
He reacted to your message, but it has been complete silence since then. You thought that maybe he was too busy, as he told you that today would be the media day, but not hearing anything from him hurt you were not going to lie.
------
And you were indeed correct in your assumption. Lando was incredibly busy today but not giving interviews and making content. No, he tried to convince Zak to let him fly home earlier today so he could spend some more time with you.
"Oh, come on. Please Zak, I'm done with all my stuff, for what do you even need me here?" Lando begged his boss, quite desperate to let him fly home.
Zak looked at him with a slightly tired expression. "Do you really have to fly home. I mean it's just Valentine's day."
Lando tried to put on his best puppy dog eyes. "It's really important for Y/N. I can't do that to her."
That seemed to do the trick, as Lando is currently on a plane home to Monaco. He spent the whole flight on his phone, trying to make the time go by faster. A smile made its way onto his face when he saw you posted a photo of you sitting in one of your favourite cafes, enjoying the sun.
He felt so incredibly guilty after your call yesterday, already forming a plan for how he can make it up to you.
------
The second he touched the ground again, he immediately rushed to your favourite florist to get you the biggest bouquet of sunflowers he could find.
The friendly old lady who runs the shop smiles as she sees Lando entering. You also visited her today, telling her your dilemma while buying a bouquet of pink tulips.
So seeing Lando buying your favourite flowers made her happy for you, knowing you weren't spending the day alone anymore.
------
You just came home from your trip, putting the flowers you bought in a vase and starting to make yourself some dinner.
You were about to start eating when you heard the doorbell ring. Confused, you make your way to the front door. Looking through your peephole, you rip the door open in excitement.
You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw your boyfriend standing before you. Well, you could barely see him between all those sunflowers. But what you could see. Was his adorable smile while he held a pink sign saying, "Be my valentine?"
Rushing over to him, you tackled him in the biggest teddybear-hug, burying your face in his neck.
"Hi baby." Kissing your head, Lando wraps one arm around you, squeezing you tight.
"How-when, why are you here?"
Chuckling slightly at your confusion, Lando answers, "Well I couldn't leave my girl alone on Valentine's now, can I? Besides, Zak couldn't withstand my puppy-dog-eyes."
Laughing, you tilt your head, giving Lando a loving kiss while murmuring a sincere "I love you" against his lips.
"Mhm, I love you too, baby."
------
After standing in your hallway like two teenagers, you ushered Lando inside, not letting go of his hand, wanting to have him near you all the time.
You were now cuddling on the couch, your wrist decorated with a new bracelet, a sparkling "L" adorning its front.
Lando broke the comfortable silence you two were basking in, "You didn't answer my question from earlier."
You look up at him, confused. "What do you mean?"
Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he says, "Will you be my Valentine?"
Laughing, you take his face to kiss him, "Yes, Lando, I'd love to be your Valentine."
------
Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !!❤️
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Summer of '03
Joel Miller x Female Reader | A Woman Story
Rating: Pg- 13
Summary: The first time Joel sees you as the woman you've become.
Tags/Warnings: age gap (13ish years), baby sitter, consumption of alcohol, summer.
Notes: I'm calling this a bridge. A scene that happens in all the timelines and universes of my dear Woman Reader and Joel. Consider this the point of divergence. I wonder what happened with these two if the outbreak never happened? I suppose only time will tell... 😉
shoutout to @murder-wife and @guiltyasdave for beta reading! I love you both!
Words: 1412
Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist
Joel isn’t sure why he came. The Randolf’s summer pool party is a block tradition, but Sarah is at camp this year. Meaning, he had every excuse in the book to get out of it but here he is, standing against the fence, beer in his hand, watching as the kids jump in and out endlessly as burgers and hot dogs sizzle on the grill and folks lay out in the sun.
It’s not that he dislikes these events. Maybe he finds them to draw on a little too long until people get just a little too sloppy drunk, but Joel has mastered the art of excusing himself early. He’s only a two minute walk down the street anyway. It’s just that there are usually other ways he would rather spend his Saturdays. He has a couple neglected projects calling his name in the garage, yet he still finds himself here. For tradition's sake, maybe? It doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things he supposes.
Joel shoves his free hand in the pockets of his jeans, taking another sip of his beer. It’s hot outside as condensation drips from the bottle. He finishes it off, the label peeling off the bottle. His eyes scan back over the crowd. Most of the neighborhood is here and if they’re not, Joel expects to find them filing in soon.
He’s doing a second scan over the crowd when he makes eye contact with you across the pool. You’re sitting with a group of friends perched on a couple of lounge chairs with wine coolers in hand. Joel tries to think back to the last time he saw you. It must’ve been last summer before you headed out for your Senior year of college, the last time Tommy got himself into a bind and needed bailing out.
You wave to him, offering up a smile and he returns the gesture with a tip of his bottle before you’re pulled back into conversation with your friends. Joel can’t help but notice a slight change in you over the past couple of years. He supposes it’s the growth from teen to adult. You graduated this past spring. He remembers Sarah talking about it, how excited she was for you when you landed the ER job.
Someone calls Joel’s name, pulling his attention away from you.
You’re only pretending to listen as your friend Mandy rattles on about her recent hook up. Usually, you’d be interested in the details she’s providing, but Joel Miller has you distracted. You had hoped you would be past the silly crush at this point in your life, but your eyes track him relentlessly. Watching as he makes idle conversation with some of the dad’s on the block. You wonder how he’s wearing jeans in this heat. You don’t mind. They make his ass look good.
You’re an adult with a job now continuing to harbor feelings from highschool seems silly, but there’s that little voice in your head now, the one that says you’re old enough now.. You’re an adult now. You’ve entered the workforce. You try to block out that voice. Joel Miller is not what you need, but you still want him.
“Hey!” Mandy snaps her fingers in front of your face, pulling you back to the group.
“Sorry, what did I miss?” You adjust your sunglasses, taking a sip of your drink as you make a concentrated effort to stay present with your friends.
“Are you still hung up on the DILF?” Maryanne teases.
“DILF? Where?” Whitney pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head, looking over the flock of people.
Embarrassment heats your cheeks as Mandy points him out. Whitney is less and subtle. “You grew up with THAT across the street?”
“Will you be quiet? Someone is gonna hear you.” You swat at your friends.
“I’m just saying, I understand the crush now.”
“I don’t have a crush on him anymore.” You lie through your teeth and you’re bad at it.
Mandy rolls her eyes. “Yeah right.”
“He is very handsome,” Maryanne adds.
You finish off your drink. “Can we stop ogling him now? He’s gonna catch y’all.”
“Really? You’ve been doing it for years, we can’t for five minutes?” Mandy winks.
“From the woman who told me she didn’t see it.”
“Hey! I’m older and wiser now,” Mandy says.
You roll your eyes, trying to keep your eyes from wandering to the man of the hour. You really need to get over this crush. “I’m going to cool off.” You finish off your wine cooler, dropping your cover up before jumping into the pool before your friends can reply.
Joel lost count of his drinks around number three or four. He’s pacing himself, but between the heat and the ease in which his drinks are going down, he’s feeling the easy buzz of the beer. He’s stayed longer than he ever intended to, but he’s okay with that.
Joel wanders inside to use the bathroom. The AC feels nice on his sweat sheened skin. People gather in the kitchen, a couple walk through the house. There’s more people than he knows here. He’ll hand it to the Randolfs. They know how to throw a party.
He’s grateful to find the bathroom unoccupied, locking it behind him. He’s quick about his business, splashing cool water against his face and neck. It clears his mind some. He should head home soon. He’ll be grumpy if he doesn’t take some time to himself.
He’s barely flipped the lock when the door flies open, you falling in with it. He’s almost hit by the door yet somehow manages to catch you as well. You’re a fit of loose giggles as his arms wrap around your torso, meeting the sun warmed skin exposed by your bikini.
“Careful there, Sweetheart. You nearly took me out.” Joel can’t help the chuckle in his voice. He’s used to seeing you on the clock when you’re responsible for his child. This is a very different version of you, but he can’t help but find it endearing.
“Sorry.” You manage to straighten up, but even through the boozy haze, Joel’s touch sears against your skin. Your cheeks warm over and it’s from much more than the sun.
He smiles at you, helping you right yourself, but his hands stay against your back. Yours settle flat on his solid chest. “You get a little carried away?”
“Don’t tell my parents.” You barely manage to wink, making him laugh even harder.
“My lips are sealed.”
“Oh good,” You sigh in relief as if Joel just did you the biggest favor of your life and you’re not of legal drinking age. “You’re a good man, Joel.” You pat his chest.
“Thank you.”
“Can you leave now?”
“Sure thing.” He smiles at you, ensuring you’re stable on your feet before he slips by you, his searing touch gone.
The loss of his touch sobers your intoxicated body. You can’t help but watch him go, cotton t shirt stretching temptingly across his shoulders. Chills form on your sides, phantoms of his touch still teasing you. You watch the empty hall in front of you, replaying the moment in your head for longer than you’ll ever admit to anyone.
Joel lets out a long shaky breath as he walks right out the front door, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone. It’s a quick walk home, even with the buzz of the alcohol in his veins. On the walk home, he attempts to clear his mind of what happened, but he can still feel your soft skin under his hands. He can smell the sweet mixture of sunscreen and you like you’re still in his arms.
When he makes it home, he still hasn’t flushed the sensations of you from his mind. The way you looked in that swimsuit, hugging you perfectly. He knows it’s wrong. It makes him a dirty old man. The more he tries, the more he thinks about it. The more he replays it in his mind. He has no right to think about you like this, to view you as desirable.
Joel takes another deep breath, resting his head against the front door. You called him a good man, but a good man doesn’t fall into this trap: the babysitter, the girl next door. He repeats that to himself. Girl. You’re a girl, but his brain keeps reminding him that you are a woman now.
Woman Taglist: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites
@missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller
@eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes @hiroikegawa
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https://www.tumblr.com/theemporium/732996365739819008/httpspbstwimgcommediaf-cfpsex0aa8a5hformat
PLEASEEE can we have the smallest of blurbs/thots on this, them cuddling into the reader because they’re wee pups after all
-🥀
I KNEW I HAD TO AS WELL
.
You were aware that the forecast said it would rain, but you didn’t realise it would be a full fucking thunderstorm.
You had been huddled in the Red Bull garage when the weather took a dramatic turn for the worse. First, there were just a few radios here and there about some rain hitting the track. Seconds later, a massive dark cloud was covering the track, the sun was gone and the conditions were far too dangerous to finish the end of qualifying.
You were honestly just happy both your boys were safe as they made their way into the pits, even prouder when you realised this meant they would be starting on the front row together. But then the thunder started and a part of you froze.
Thunderstorms were never a problem for you. If anything, you enjoyed them. The rain pattering against the window, the distant sound of thunder claps in the air with strikes of lightning as you played some calming music. Being cuddled up in bed, maybe even a book in hand with a warm drink by your side.
But your boys never thought the same.
You had began moving before you could even process it, but the team wouldn’t let you leave the safety of the garages just yet, which left you watching the interview on one of the screens. You could see it on their faces, even if they tried to hide it. You could see them trying to laugh it off and continue with the questions. You could see the way their bodies flinched, the way they covered their ears, the way they gravitated towards each other for safety. It broke your heart to see because you knew exactly how they were during thunderstorms.
The second they were given the go ahead, the boys were heading straight back to their drivers’ rooms to leave for the hotel as soon as they could. But it was short-lived when both boys barreled into Max’s driver room, Charles rushing towards you before you could even blink.
A low whine left him as he wound his arms around your waist, tugging you close and burying his face into the crook of your neck as another distant thunderclap echoed outside.
“I know,” you murmured, holding onto him tightly as your eyes caught Max’s—who you knew was trying to put on a brave face. “Let’s head back to the hotel, okay? Everything is gonna be fine.”
Both boys were twitchy the whole ride over. All three of you were sitting in the back of the car, with you pressed between both boys as they tried to distract themselves. You could feel the anxiety rolling off them, you could feel the way their bodies tensed and the way their hands tightened on your thighs. You knew they just wanted to be alone and far away from the thunder.
The second the hotel room door locking sounded through the suite, you heard the distinct sound of clothes ripping before two massive, fluffy beasts were approaching you. Another clap of thunder rendered through the air and both boys let out pitiful whines, cowering slightly as they looked up at you with big eyes.
“My poor boys,” you cooed softly as you reached out to run your hands over the heads, scratching behind their ears until both wolves were nosing at your legs. “C’mon, we’ll do what we do when we’re home.”
And it was a little more squished than the bed you shared at home, but it did the job just fine. You had both wolves squashing you between them, their heads resting on your stomach with the duvet over them. It was a trick you read online with dogs and fireworks, but it seemed to work perfectly with your werewolf boyfriends.
“You both need to eat something soon,” you told them when you felt one of them—probably Charles, if you knew your boys well—pushing the fabric of your shirt up until he could rest his head on your bare stomach. “And I would rather not scare hotel staff with two massive dogs that are technically undisclosed.”
Max let out a huff against your thigh.
“Don’t be a puppy,” you snorted as your fingers threaded through his fur. “Just one meal and then you can transform back. I would like at least thirty minutes with my boys to tell you how proud I am of both of you for getting the front row.”
Charles let out a loving purr as he nuzzled himself further into you.
“Yeah, I love you too.”
.
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can u please do a "youre not john bs girlfriend but.." to complete the trinity 🙏
𐙚🐇⋆.˚❆
you’re not john b’s girlfriend but…
he still repeatedly tells you “no, you’re not coming with us today. i — i told you it’s too dangerous and if anything happens to you i will quite literally never forgive myself. just stay home, okay? i’ll see you later i swear.” only for you to show up anyways, the boy grumpily tugging you about and reprimanding you when you trip or get hurt because he told you so. despite everything, he’ll sigh and wipe up your cuts and scrapes, pressing a bandaid on it and tell you you’re a ‘good girl’ for sitting still.
he still stares at you with the biggest brown puppy dog eyes when you’re laying on his board in the gentle waves, your eyes closed as you bask in the sun. he holds the board steady, standing beside it in the water making sure you don’t float adrift, thinking about how you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.
he’s still constantly offering you his portion of food if he thinks you haven’t eaten, telling you he doesn’t need it and he’s used to going hungry so he doesn’t mind. you get him to compromise by letting you feed him fries, giggling adorably and giving him an excuse to sit all close with you, which he doesn’t mind at all.
he still kisses your forehead and wipes your tears away everytime you cry, making you feel super guilty because you just can’t stand his worrying. he gets all puppy dog eyed, brow creasing as he watches you quietly, brain wracking with ideas on how he can make it all better.
he still lets you sit on his lap as he looks over maps, because of course there’s only one chair, duh — you’re being as helpful as you can — until of course you get bored, giggling and walking your fingers across the map like a person, making him bat your hand away distractedly as he continues reading quietly to himself out loud from a ripped out page he was studying. his serious attitude is a turn on, you won’t lie — but you must be careful! press your ass back against his crotch a few more times and he’ll turn you around and have you hump him then and there, chuckling teasingly when you cum in your panties, making a few jokey comments before going straight back to work.
he still lets you nap against his arm as he plays on the playstation at the chateau, a rare night when the group aren’t running around like headless chickens. he wears his hoodie and his cap, all warm and relaxed and just so easy to snuggle up to. you’d asked him if you could stay the night, not wanting to face your home just yet and ended up falling asleep on him, listening to him quietly hum in that smooth voice of his, thumbs moving against the joysticks.
he still teaches you how to fish, letting you lean back against his chest with his hands over yours on the rod— teasing you and telling you that the reason no fish are coming along is somehow your fault, just to hear you get all bratty and defend yourself because he thinks it’s cute.
he still always gets caught looking at your ass, but you’re so used to it that neither of you even say anything anymore.
he still lets you suck on his tongue when the two of you are bored and can’t sleep, giggling against each others mouths in the dark until it’s suddenly serious and his head is between your thighs making you cum.
he still gently scoops you up in his strong arms when he finds you sleeping in the hammock alone outside in the dark after you had a disagreement over something stupid like maps. “cant sleep out here, bub. skeeters.” he complains quietly to no one as he carries your sleeping body inside.
you’re not john b’s girlfriend, but he wishes you were.
𐙚🐇⋆.˚❆
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Pretty like the sun
Previous chapter .
a/n This is pretty like the wind series spin offs. This can be read as standalone all you need to know is that Azriel has two adoptive kids with OC - Zofie and Axel. Future stories related to them might include stories specifically decided to Azriel hence why I am taging it as Azriel story too. Don't come at me please. This chapter has both Azriel’s and Y/N povs. ✨
I have a feeling that this might just be the end.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Zofie’s pov:
She was sitting by the fire. A dog with chestnut fur had been looking at her ever since she spent a solid while scratching his ear. Legs dangling as she looked over the unfamiliar living room. Or what she assumed was one. “Here, drink this," her uncle said stepping into the doorway, a glass in hand. He had taken her to his, or more likely, Eris's, mansion. Why? She didn’t know. She wanted to go home. To mom and dad at least, but Lucien had made her stay.
“How are you feeling?”, he asked softly, kneeling in front of her as if she were some child. But then again... How was she feeling? Zofie tried not to focus on the emotions raging within her. One battling the other. Making her feel dizzy and nauseous. Because whatever was brewing deep within her chest felt more like a roller coaster than anything else.
“Flustered and uneasy”, it came out more as a question than a statement, but since she didn’t know any better, in a way she waited for a nod or an agreement that was exactly how she was meant to feel. “He’s probably clawing at the ground." Zofie’s head turned to Eris, who was swirling a drink in his hands. “Shut up, Eris," Lucien growled.
“Nyx?”, Zofie quickly cut in, “You’re talking about Nyx?” She wasn’t sure why, but even the sound of his name leaving her lips made her tingly. Lucien sighed hesitantly. From the way the grayish-blue tint painted his palms, he was nervous.
“Uncle Luci, is this an illness? He had a fever," Zofie cut in, a wave of anxiety slamming into her chest. “No, no, it’s...", Lucien ran a hand through his hair before twisting the ends. The sound of the glass being placed on the table was followed by Eris’s voice, “You found your mate, girl", "Eris," Lucien hissed.
Zofie shook her head, “We’re just friends." She had read about mates. How hard was it to find one. How long did it take. She had seen her married parents. The way Azriel understood Y/N without words. Images of the night Zofie had run away flooded her mind. How Nyx had found her. He always seemed to find her when she needed him most.
“Look at your cheeks, girl," Eris chuckled. “You blush at the thought of him. Not to mention that his scent is all over you; he sure as hell wanted you to be his." The lordling pointed his glass at Zofie before taking a sip. If she was blushing beforehand, now she had to be a deep shade of crimson. She didn’t know what she felt on her skin. The comforting scent. Whatever it was it was warming her from the outside. And she had no idea that it had anything to do with Nyx.
"Eris," Lucien hissed for what felt like a thousand times before turning to her. “Look, Zofie, nothing is set in stone, but..." he said softly, clearly trying to ease her daze. “You said he chased you when you ran,” Lucien asked after a heartbeat. Zofie simply nodded. “Mother, I can’t believe I’ll have to ask." He grunted more to himself as he ran a hand over his face.
“Was there a part of you that didn’t want to run or found that run thrilling?”, Eris’s words once again slammed into her. As if trying to break the glass, all the emotions were still simmering beneath. To let loose the feeling that was clawing at her from within. Lucien had turned to his brother so quickly that even Zofie felt the swoosh of air hitting her face. She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel the way he was burning red, and the look was anything but pleasant. “What? I’m simply voicing what’s on your mind”, the oldest Vanserra shrugged. Whatever Lucien grumbled to him in return, she didn’t understand.
“Zofie, this can be overwhelming. Finding a mate…," Lucien had started, but she quickly cut in. “We can’t; this is not," she said, shaking her head. Yes, he has been there ever since. Yes, everyone had teased him about the way he had always been swooned by her. Yes, every memory she had was somehow interlinked with him. But…
“You need to breathe, hun; I already reached out to your mom." Zofie felt Lucien’s hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll do a much better job than us explaining this to you." He smiled softly at her, but she still shook her head. “He’s a prince, and I... I don’t have anything, and we never will. Never," she said, wrapping her arms around herself, frowning. "Zofie," Lucien called out sympathetically. “It’s a gift, girl; many die never experiencing a touch of their true lover," Eris cut into her panic, making it all halt for a moment as she stared at him and he right back at her. “Feel it out and then take control of it," he said firmly.
Nyx’s pov:
“Zofie”, he had been searching in the woods for what felt like forever. Dropping in the cold flow of the lake. Zofie was nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Nyx couldn’t see her. He couldn’t find her in his consciousness. Couldn’t winnow to her. But every single cell in his body burned with her. Ached for her. Making him frantic and clumsy as he flew over and over the place she had just simply disappeared from.
"Zofie!" he shouted once more. "Nyx”,’the sound of his name made him turn around quickly, but the relief soon turned into anger. "No, you can’t be here," he hissed at the sight of his father. All dressed in black, looking down on him. No, he wasn’t going to share this with him.
“It’s okay, bud; we want to help," Cassian stepped from behind Rhys, followed by Azriel, and yet another wave of panic hit him like a stone. "No, you will take her away," Nyx hissed, pulling back. “Pull yourself together," Rhys snarled, his eyes burning holes in Nyx.
"Rhysand," Cassian warned as Nyx bared his teeth at his father. Panting frantically. “Hey, look at me," Azriel called out, but not in the way that Nyx was used to. A softer version of that. An understanding one. “I didn’t hurt her, I promise," Nyx muttered, shaking his head at the burn in his eyes. “I know, it’s okay," Azriel reassured him as he stepped closer.
“I need to find her. What if something happened?”, Another load of panic slammed into him, making Nyx cave into himself. "Nyx, she’s safe; we know where she is, bud," Cassian said softly, and while those words should have put Nyx at ease, he felt anger rising within him. Why did they do it? Why didn’t they tell him? Were they keeping her away?
“Take me to her right now," he demanded, pointing his finger at them in a warning. “You need to calm down first," Azriel told him. “I'm calm," he reassured his uncle, even if he was practicing shaking. “Do you know what’s going on?”, Rhys asked. A mixture of sadness lingered in his eyes. “Nothing is going on," Nyx snarled back before adding, “I think I'm going to go mad." His hands reached up to tug at his onyx's hair.
“That’s the mating bond," Rhys said so casually as if this wasn’t a life-altering thing. Nyx’s eyes grew wide as he shook his head. “Don’t act like you didn’t know, you were enamored with her when you were kids," Rhys said firmly. “I found your sketchbooks; she’s all you’ve been drawing.”.
It felt as if Nyx’s chest was hallowed out and then forced full of rage. “You knew?”, he hissed through clenched teeth. “Of course I knew," Rhys groaned angrily, pulling at the collar of his button-up. “And yet you still threw me in the embrace of all the other girls?” Nyx was shouting now, ready to claw at his father’s face. But Cassian rested a palm on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
“I was trying to distract you," Rhys replied, “You’re too young to mate; look at yourself." He guessed at him as if he were nothing. Nothing more but a mess. “I will kill you," Nyx shouted, ripping away from Cassian, “I will leave you in ribbons." Azriel hand caught him around his middle, his shadows wrapping him up in a cold blanket.
“Think about Zofie, Nyx," he whispered to the boy. “Pull yourself together for her." And even if he still looked at Rhys with nothing but disgust, the panting eased. “Leave Rhys," Cassian said with a shake of his head. The high lord was about to argue, but it was Azriel who had cut in, “Just go; we got this." Something like disagreement and guilt rushed through Rhys’s face, but he didn’t say a single thing. Casting one more look at his son before winnowing away.
“I need to see her," Nyx said as soon as his father had disappeared. “You will once you find control within yourself," Azriel muttered as he let him go. “I can’t breathe without her," Nyx admitted, his hands gripping at his throat as if he wanted to claw another air passage. The two males looked at each other for a second. “Even when she’s not with you, a part of her is always there," Cassian said attentively, motioning for Nyx to come sit by the river's edge with him. “That part is your leverage," Azriel added, also joining them in the grass. “Your northern star, if you will, it’s something that will always guide you." Nyx simply nodded his head as he listened. “And that’s the thing that will let you feel her when you’re apart," Cassian said, throwing a rock into the rippling water.
“But that’s been there for years..." Nyx admitted, placing a hand on his chest where that little flame had been sparkling ever since he first laid eyes on Zofie. At that time, he was too young to even distinguish between the emotions, but now he knew that it had been there all along. “You’re one lucky bastard to have found a mate before even reaching a hundred," Cassian chuckled, shoving Nyx’s shoulder slightly.
“I don’t know how to take care of her like that," he shrugged, the self-doubt nearly choking him. “Yes, you do," Azriel said firmly, “In your own ways, you’ve been taking care of our girl for years," Nyx felt at ease in Azriel’s words. A father had been protecting his daughter, and he could understand that. But knowing that a part of Azriel trusted Nyx enough to let him be close to Zofie was the biggest achievement in his books.
“This just adds extra spice," Cassian said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Cassian," Azriel growled in a warning. “What? They will fuck," his uncle shrugged. Both Azriel and Nyx turned to him with a growl. “My god, I will kill you," Azriel said, shaking his head. “Don’t talk about her like that, you pig," Nyx added with a snarl. But Cassian was grinning from ear to ear, “See, perfectly capable of taking care of her.”
Your pov:
You had been rubbing your palms together as you walked across the living room back and forth. If not for Novie, who from time to time demanded some attention, you would have probably walked a hole on the floor. You felt Azriel before he had even walked through the front door. Quickly rushing to get to the entrance. “And?”, you clasped your hands on your chest as you awaited your mate's words. “He’s okay; I’m confident that he can hold his own," Azriel said, shrugging off his jacket. “This is so exciting," you chirped, smiling from ear to ear as Azriel stepped closer, cupping your cheek.
“I mean, considering that she ended up in autumn, it’s not too thrilling," Azriel pointed out, leaning in to brush his lips over yours. "Oh, stop! Lucien is an angel." You hit Azriel’s chest softly. Lucien had been a big part of your family too. Azriel was the one who had wanted to burn any bridges that led to Elain, but you had been quick to remind him that Lucien had nothing to do with it.
“Eris is not." Azriel grumbled, but you brushed his words off, cupping his face in your palms, “Our girl found her mate." And even if you knew how hard it was for Azriel to let go of Zofie, he couldn’t fight the smile that crept onto his face.
“Madja said that it’s been over six hundred years since she’s seen a bond snapping so early on," Azriel said quietly, but his face soon matched the giddy excitement on your face. “Gosh, their wedding will be stunning. We can...", “Yeah, no wedding planning yet, don’t want to think about that," Azriel pulled you closer, clasping a hand over your mouth as you giggled.
"Mom," a quiet voice got you two pulling apart as you gazed at Zofie. Lucien right beside her. "Oh, my darling, my big girl," you sighed, closing the distance between you both and wrapping her up in your arms. “I didn’t...", she quickly shook her head apologetically. “Don’t you dare apologize for the gift Mother granted you?" You pulled back slightly and cupped her rosy cheeks. “Not all of us are lucky to find our other half so quickly." You could see the conflict raging within her, yet she still nodded before glancing to the side, “Papa…”
It was more of a whisper than a call. Yet Azriel’s eyes softened intensely as he opened his arms to her. You nudged her slightly. Her first steps were unsure, but then she practically ran to him. Azriel instantly wrapped her up. His wings followed the motion. Their happy little bubble. Like it had been from day one.
“As long as you occasionally come back for a cuddle and my pies," he muttered against her hair, making her chuckle slightly. “It seems like yesterday you were no bigger than my palm, and now look at you." Azriel shook his head, looking at his daughter. You could tell that he was fighting the urge to cry. Zofie had been one of the things that brought Azriel back to life. A big part of his demons died when she appeared. And knowing that for so long she had needed him like air and now she was able to stand on her own two feet no doubt felt bittersweet.
“You’ll always be my little star," he muttered, pressing his forehead to hers. “Even with Novie?” Zofie asked. That almost desperate plea to still be important enough is burning within her. “Especially with her," Azriel promised. “I’ll always be your wings, remember?” She nodded eagerly, warping her arms around his neck as he hugged him as best as her tiny frame allowed her. “Come on now; your boy is probably mixing sky and earth together," Azriel nudged her. Zofie’s cheeks grew red immediately. “He’s not my boy," she argued back. “Boyfriend?”, you chirped in with a smirk. "Mom," Zofie growled, “not you too.”.
Nyx’s pov:
Nyx had been walking back and forth for what felt like an eternity. His father. Rhys. Rhys had been the one to suggest that he should be separated from Zofie for some time. For caution, he had said. His mother had tried to interfere, but the high lord had decided. Nyx was prepared to rage. To fight, but it was Azriel who had stepped in. Azriel, who had disagreed with the decision, in that moment Nyx felt like kneeling in front of his uncle so he could say thank you. Zofie was under Azriel’s protection; she was his daughter, so his word in the matter was final.
And now here he was in the house of wind. Jumping up at any and every sound. He was also more than aware that Zofie had a right not to come at all. He knew that she very well might not want to do anything with him. She might just be terrified of him. He would be terrified of himself too. Maybe he even was. Never before had he completely let his feelings for her take over. Never had felt as if parting was a death wish.
"Hey," his whole world shifted, tilted, and tuned over with one single word. He wasn’t even sure if he could turn around. To look at her without wanting to hold her. Without wanting to touch her. "Nyx," Zofie breathed as if reading his struggles. She stepped around him to stand right in front of him. It felt both like a salvation and a curse to be so close to her. “I’m afraid to touch you," he rasped out, drowning in her golden eyes for a heartbeat too long. Quickly turning his head to the side. "Nyx," she muttered under her breath, stepping closer to him. “I don’t want to hurt you," he pleaded, stepping back.
“You wouldn’t, couldn’t, you've"—her voice was so soft and comforting, but he couldn’t let it take over. “I chased you," he said firmly. He lready hate that part of him. That moment. And she knew it too. Knew that he would use that to beat himself up. “You didn’t know... We didn’t know what that was," she said, stopping the emphasis on the word we, and something deep and primal flustered within him. “You were so warm, I thought it was a fever of some sort." There was so much worry in her voice. So much concern he wished he could chase away. But he just didn’t trust himself to move.
“Relax your fists," Zofie breathed, and only now did he realize that he had been clenching his hands so tightly that they were white. “I can't," Nyx muttered through clenched teeth. “Yes, you can. It’s just me," she said, reaching out to him, but Nyx backed away once again. Back hiring the wall. He brushed his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I don’t deserve you," he crocked under his breath. “Don’t be silly," Zofie said firmly, pretty much closing the distance between them.
He knew this was mutual. He knew that, in the same way, he would never touch her without her permission. She would never touch him without his. He knew the question was coming before it had even grazed her lips. “Can I touch you?" she whispered. Nyx could feel her eyes on him. "Zof." He wasn’t sure at this point who exactly he was warning. “Just your cheek," she pleaded, and he had made a mistake when he let his eyes find hers. The last strings holding him back snapped as he nodded. She smiled up at him, carefully brushing her warm fingers against his cheek. Nyx had never understood what his mother and aunts had in mind when they said that their partners purred. But he was a heartbeat away from that, as he leaned closer to her.
“Not so bad, huh?", Zofie teased with a smile, and the moment she had moved her palm away, Nyx grasped it in his palm, resting it back on his cheek. “Your touch is a heaven," he muttered, letting himself soak her in, “You’re so fucking pretty." Her cheeks bloomed with crimson at his words. "Stop!", she chuckled under her breath. “As pretty as the sun," Nyx whispered with so much love that his chest hurt, “You’re my sun. Chasing all the bad away." Zofie inhaled shakily, her bottom lip trembling as she watched him.
“Kiss me," she said all of a sudden, stepping on her very tiptoes so she could reach him better. "Sunny," he said, shaking his head. Having her so close was already too much. "Please," she begged, her big golden eyes leaving him defenseless. “I don’t know if..." Nyx had started to argue. But she killed the distance between them. She was the one kissing him. And it’s like the heaven gate has opened. As if someone dunked his head in the purest form of love. It felt as if tiny needles were prickling his skin. But most importantly, he felt as if he was alive—so alive. Alive like never before. “Do you know how long I wanted to do this?", Nyx pulled away sheepishly, licking his lips as he looked down at her flustered form. “Less talking, more action," Zofie chirped with a grin of her own as she held onto his neck, chuckling as he pulled her in by her hips. “Forever?”, Nyx asked, right by her lips, practically feeling the beat of her heart. "Forever," Zofie muttered breathlessly. She had barely touched his lips when Nyx scooped her up in his arms, making her squeal. She didn’t need to ask where he was talking to her when the air around her grew colder. The lake house had become theirs from day one. There were too many conversations. Too many memories. Too many lingering touches filled that space for it to be anyone but theirs.
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Taglist: @sirenpearldust @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @naturakaashi @stressed-reader @woodland-mist @goldenmagnolias @nocasdatsgay @lees-chaotic-brain @elle4404 @azrielsmate3
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Daryl and reader’s first summer together ? Mood board or headcanon or whatever you like babes 😏🫶 I picture they’ve been together for the fall and a very long harsh winter, and the summer comes around and readers energy just starts to burst in response to the warmth and sunlight, and how that might look for them as a couple 🌻💛😁
Summer Lovin’
ao3 link
Characters: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader | Pre-Prison Era/After Farm Fell
A/N: tysm for the request love !! i adored writing this <3 also i’ve found that i struggle with staying in tenses so this switches from past to present tense :/ whoops
Warnings: typical TWD violence, poor mental health, fluff, angst
Word Count: 750
not my character | images from pinterest
Winter in the apocalypse sucks.
The group had been on the road for months now, grieving the loss of the Greene Farm; the loss of safety. Which also means the group was going through the harsh winter without a whole lot of warmth. Abandoned shacks and small campfires can only do so much.
You had been cold for too long, and you were sure that Daryl had grown annoyed with you complaining about your frozen toes when you huddled up against him at night.
Worst of all was your mental health. Obviously there’s always an air of depression, (it is the end of the world) but your thoughts were getting dangerously close to “hey let’s jump off that bridge!”
You didn’t want to burden Daryl, but after his gentle prying, you reluctantly agreed to tell him your thoughts. He did his best to reassure you, and he held you a little tighter that night.
Finally, the group had found the prison, a place that could be a forever home after the walkers get cleared. The weather had warmed up too over the last few weeks, and it was finally starting to feel like summer.
It was a pretty calm day, most of the group decided to relax for a day outside before trying to get into the prison. You recall passing a pond not too far from the prison walls. Deciding it was warm enough for a swim, you grabbed a blanket and your knife.
“Where are ya goin’ with that?” Daryl stepped in front of you, nodding at the stuff in your hands.
“Swimming. Wanna come with? I need a bodyguard.” You suggest while smiling up at him.
He grunts out what you have come to know as “yes,” and grabs his crossbow. “Ya sure it’s warm enough?”
You shrug. “Don’t care, I’ve waited long enough.”
He must’ve read your mind because he leads you out past the walls and to the pond that you saw while traveling with the group. You both quickly survey the area for walkers, feeling relieved after there seem to be none.
You strip down to your underwear and toss a smirk over your shoulder to a blushing Daryl, then giggle and wade your way into the pond.
Taking a moment to pause, you admire the sun reflecting off the water. You felt so happy in the warmth of the sun that you could cry.
Daryl watches from a distance, smiling at the peace and happiness that seems to be radiating off of you. He knew you had a tough time on the road during the winter. He was worried about you, but now he’s just glad that you’re smiling.
You swim and float around the pond for about thirty minutes, and then decide that you want to lay on the grass to dry off in the sun. You sigh as the warm grass envelops you.
“Come join me?” You smiled up at Daryl who was sat on a rock.
“Thought I was yer bodyguard.” He said while walking over to you anyway. He found out a long time ago that he couldn’t handle denying you anything.
You giggle as he groans as he lays down next to you. You start to cuddle into him but he gently shoves you away.
“Yer soakin’ like a wet dog righ’ now, dry off first.”
You roll your eyes with a smile, but comply. While putting on your t-shirt, you spot a patch of wildflowers and gasp. You run over to them.
This makes Daryl sit up immediately and grab his knife, anxiety filling his veins. He then sees that you found flowers and relaxes.
Walking over to you, he scoffs. “Scared me half to death, girl.”
While you were smelling the flowers, Daryl crouched down and picked one. He gently moved your hair out of your face and tucked the flower behind your ear. You blush and kiss his cheek.
“I’m glad yer feelin’ better. Was worried ‘bout ya.” He looked away for a moment, then back into your eyes. “Don’t know what I’d do without ya.”
You felt your heart flutter. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
You hugged him tight and stayed like that for a while. You started to hum a song and swayed in his arms.
Daryl scoffs and loosens up so you can sway his body for him. “Whatcha doin’ girl?”
“Dancing with you, duh.”
He smiles and tucks his head into your hair. “Please never stop bein’ you, sunshine.”
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‘OURS’
Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.
INDEX
Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!
Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)
Chapter 7 - Gonna Be Okay | ‘Ours’
You and Trent were just in the Maldives splitting banana gelato, clinking spoons as the sun set down the western horizon on a perfect night. Okay, you were eating it all but besides the point. You were sitting yapping with pride about how you never really fought. No couple had ever been so compatible. How perfectly suited you were and retrospectively how perfectly naive. Fast forward and you were in huff in the kitchen because he had promised to refill the dogs water bowls and hadn’t. He left for training completely oblivious that he had forgotten. You were slamming cabinet doors frustrated in a rage. This had become a daily occurrence. Not specifically filling water bowls but just small things had you almost in tears. What had happened. Teddy was a little over a month old. You wouldn’t say things had calmed down with her but there was definitely more of a routine. Although that routine consisted of you and Trent suppressing a lot of issues you were having. It was all about Teddy. All the time. Becoming parents had put a strain on your relationship you weren’t expecting and definitely we’re ignoring. Part of the problem was that you both were exhausted. You had so much less time with each other and much less time for other people after she arrived. Everyday felt like a broken record and broken it was. It was so unusual for you two to work around each other like this as opposed to working together. You always had such good communication, such empathy and understanding but right now… you weren’t sure you'd had a real conversation in about 2 days. You’d never gone this long. The awkwardness was palpable but your schedules made it so you didn’t really even have the space let alone the energy to deal with it.
“T… I’m not just going to stay home and wait for you to be done.” You quipped turning to the refrigerator to grab a water to hand to him. That was the other problem that made this all so easy to ignore. You still so obviously cared for each other. The love never went anywhere so you were still doing a lot of the same things just with a ton of resentment.
“Baby, this is such a bad time for this. I’m literally walking out the house right now.” He calmly said back but you knew what that meant. It was the politest way he could say ‘shut up, I don’t want to talk about this’ Next thing you knew he was gone, out the front door for another away game. You stood cradling Teddy with tears threatening to spill over. God, you were so fucking tired. You prayed things would just sort themselves on their own. When Trent came back things didn’t snap back to normal like you had hoped. It had been days since he returned and you’d both been busy. There was minimal communication outside of ‘can you feed her’ or ‘can you change her’ One more thing that definitely was causing issues was your sleeping arrangement. You couldn’t remember the last time you even cuddled.
“We need to sit down and talk about this, Trent. We can’t fall apart now.” You nervously spoke up coming round the couch to stand in front of him blocking the tv.
“Baby…” he sighed with a puppy dog face. His lips falling into the perfect pout he knew would get his way. He was never good with confrontation and boy did he have the face to get out of it but you had had enough.
“No. No. This is not how this is going to go.” You wiped away tears of frustration that started to build. You were mad you felt so emotional while he sat stoic as ever. “We need a real discussion. Like real adults, Trent. We’re fucking parents, now. We can’t just pretend nothing is going on.” You snapped a little. You had just put Teddy down for a nap so despite the heat of your words your voice was low and soft not wanting to wake her. Whether or not he wanted to admit it or talk about it, Trent felt sidelined while you concentrated mainly on Teddy. Just the same as he felt ignored, sitting on the bench, you felt you had completely disappeared. Everyone focused solely on your baby. Your life had dwindled down to only care and feed for Teddy rather than be a partner or person in your own right.
“I’m really fucking tired Trent… you go and you work out or whatever, let out all your stress out, see your friends and I’m here! I’m here all the fucking time. I can’t leave the house.” You yelled in the quietest way possible. Inside you were fuming as the words came out. It hit you that you couldn’t remember the last time you had left the house without Teddy or not for Teddy. He hated that you were using his first name. He gave you this confused look as to why you thought he wasn’t living this experience of being a new parent with you.
“Why are you trying to keep score?” He flicked his eyes up to you as you stood there in the living room with your hands on your hips. You felt like your knees were going to give out from either exhaustion or desperation but you gave off the appearance of being incredibly strong in the moment.
“Trent! “ you yelped, feeling defeated already by his response. He threw his head to the side, annoyed you kept calling him that and it definitely wasn’t being said in a good way. “When you have a match… ugh! We’re not even sleeping together in the same bed anymore because I have to wake up to feed her and I can’t mess up your schedule for games!” You cried.
“Yeah, go on Y/N. Just keep piling it on. I know, I know I’m not home a lot. I know” He said it with such a harsh tone. You’d give it to him Trent had some drama and sass to him. A bit of a bite you rarely were on this end of. Usually his smart mouth brought humor but this… this was not funny.
“That’s not fair!” You whimpered out. Rubbing your hands over your face beginning to rock back and forth filled with nerves unsure where this conversation was even going.
“It’s so I can provide for you, Y/N. Why don’t you realize that?” He threw the first name seriousness back at you. His eyes widened in disbelief, shocked you couldn’t see what he did for you, sacrificed for you. He gave up so much of his time away from his new born baby to give you the comfortable life you lived but just the same he couldn’t see what you had been sacrificing. “You wanted to have this baby too, Y/N.” He lashed out sitting forward more towards the edge of the couch. His puppy dog face had completely vanished a long time ago. He looked at you like he hated you. You knew he didn’t but right now you weren’t in the frame of mind to have that clear of thinking.
“Stop… do not go there. That’s fucked up and a line you can’t cross.” You were more upset now and rightfully so. Bringing the topic of having Teddy into this was unfair and uncalled for. The second he said it Trent felt a pit in his stomach. You stormed out of the room holding back tears till you were alone and far away enough for him not to hear. He wanted to take it back. He wanted to chase after you and hug you until you forgave him and made up. He wanted to go back to when you could just fuck this out and physically turn a lot of anger into a lot of love. That wasn’t going to happen. This was a battle of words. He knew things were bad, he knew what he said wasn’t great but he didn’t know hot to get to you without messing things up further so he kept his distance. After that squabble it was just days of awkward kitchen run ins. The only time you really spoke were in cutesy voices to Teddy who thankfully you assumed was oblivious to it all. She was maybe 40 days old. It wasn't like she could really pick up on the tension when you asked Trent if he had run the dishwasher but you didn’t want her around this negative vibe for long. You’d never experienced this type of long term strain with him. You never pinned either of you to be the type to hold a grudge but you both felt you had respective points to be made and wouldn’t let go. Once again, Trent had an away game and you murmured a feisty sarcastic ‘of course’ when he told you he was leaving the house. It was unnecessary so he ignored it and told you he loved you anyway. He still meant it, he just didn’t exactly love how cold you’d been towards him lately. It was before he was boarding his flight to come back home when you FaceTimed him. You were putting Teddy to bed. It was routine and just because you weren’t getting along didn’t mean you were going to deprive Teddy of seeing her dad before sleep. Your eyes were practically shutting from lack of sleep while Trent babbled to her.
“You know who’s just as perfect as you, baby bear? Your mummy.” You heard it and furrowed your brow. Were you crazy? Did he not know you had been fighting? You rolled your eyes. “C’mon, baby we gotta get through this.” He tried to get you to loosen your grip on the whole thing but you weren’t having it. Trent just wanted to brush over this, move and put a plaster over it. He wanted you back in his arms desperately. After you hung up you definitely felt a little bit guilty. You knew he was trying his best. It was just Trent’s way. All he wanted to do was love you but you needed something different than that right now. In a fun twist, it was Trent’s birthday this week. You couldn’t have felt more awkward about it. Truthfully and deep down you knew this fighting was temporary and you loved him so you didn’t want to taint a day you had the opportunity to really show him how much you did love him but you were stubborn. You didn’t want to be the one to say sorry first and you certainly were not going to go the rest of your life as a mother like this, you needed a conversation. Per usual as of late, you awkwardly both got ready in your wardrobe together. He asked what you wanted him to wear. Normally the task would excite you. You loved dressing him. He didn’t really mind either way even though he looked significantly better when you did. You could tell this was some sort of olive branch but it wasn’t enough. You just dragged your hand over the closet full of his tops lazily pulling out a Rhude t-shirt to hand to him. He gave a half assed smile disappointed his effort didn’t do anything. You put on a tanish grey linen off the shoulder mini dress. You actually liked it and felt okay in it. The dress was doing a lot considering you jusstttt had Teddy. He zipped your dress. His hands on your cold skin made you shiver. It was strange that his touch made you feel that way. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. You selected a pair of heels you hadn’t been able to wear since before you were pregnant. They just ran narrow and your swollen feet weren’t having it. You picked out a purse you bought in a pregnant haze. It was insanely kitschy and looked like a takeout box but it happened to be almost £2,000 from YSL. Trent probably gave into cravings in a different way than most people. You had bought some ridiculous things while pregnant but it was still cute. You stood in the mirror inspecting the full outfit.
“You look good.” Trent muttered out seeing you as he sat on the bed waiting for you. He meant it. He never said stuff like that if he didn’t. Dianne was coming over to take care of Teddy. You were not thrilled about leaving her but you wouldn’t be out long. It’s not like you and Trent were exactly eager to spend alone time together despite it being much needed. You had made a reservation at a Sushi place you went to when you celebrated his birthday on your first visit. It was sweet in theory but now it just rubbed it in how much things had changed.
“Tuna roll?” He asked you, inspecting the menu even though you both knew exactly what you were getting. You could recite his sushi order backwards. You were excited to finally have sushi again so as much as this was for Trent it was a little for you too. You ate your meal talking about basic things you might talk to a neighbor about, fairly generic for two people that lived together, that loved each other. You had ordered a special roll Trent was too scared to try but you made him have a piece anyway. He liked it and a while later he plucked another piece off your plate with his chopsticks. You widened your eyes at him, your jaw slacked. He gave you a cheeky grin with his cheeks full as he chewed. You kept eating until he did it again. You had now given him half of your order.
“T! Stop!” You giggled. He was so annoying and you hated how cute he was every time he was being a pest.
“I’ll buy you more, beautiful.” He cooed, taking a fourth of your six piece roll. You laughed at him shaking your head. It kind of felt like you were just beginning to date again. He was flirting with you and it made your heart flutter. You looked at him and watched in what felt like slow motion his big hand reach across the table to wipe a bit of soy sauce that had rested atop your lips. The feeling of his fingers on your lips, near your mouth, had your heart racing. Images of times he pushed his fingers in your mouth while he fucked you flashed in your mind. There was something about Trent in a white t-shirt. He just looked so fresh and clean. Sexy. It made you think of the first time you gave him head you remember watching his back muscles dance as he pulled the white t-shirt over his golden brown skin. You had hummed at the image.
“At a white t-shirt?” He questioned what you were possibly so enamored with.
“No, you in a clean white t-shirt after I just had your cock in my mouth” You corrected him. He couldn’t hold the grin back. He walked back over to you holding the pair of camouflage pants he was going to wear.
“It’s so good. I like this one. You always know the hits.” His voice cut off your moment of reverie. He was really fucking handsome. As messy and tense as things had been you’d never not be attracted to him and that only made it that much annoying when he did stupid shit. As you drove towards home it was like the mood lowered with every passing mile. It wasn’t like you weren’t excited to get back to Teddy. You actually felt like you could burst with the need to get her back in your arms. It just was that this dinner was some sort of escape from the reality of things. There weren’t dog’s water bowls he could forget to fill at the restaurant.
It had been almost two months post birth and you really didn’t want to nor have any desire to have sex. You thought about his body that way for sure, but the idea of him touching your body was hard to imagine. Previously, sex was what birthdays between you and Trent consisted of and you loved it. It was fun and hot. A time to try things out, spend all day in bed but you were so exhausted and frankly sore. Your body felt anything but sexy… it felt gross like it wasn’t actually yours anymore. You often felt touched out at the end of the day. You had a baby on you practically 24/7. Sex was the last thing on your mind leaving Trent feeling fairly neglected and rejected. It was the perfect storm. You barely were sleeping together so the second you were he wanted to be all over you and the second he was you just wanted to be alone. You went to bed that night, backs facing one another with your arms slightly outstretched towards the middle of the bed linking pinkies not okay with being completely out of reach from the other. It was strange but gave you a tinge of hope. You laid in bed the next day and got to sleep in. Trent handled morning duties with Teddy. He even took her for a walk in her pram just to get her outside.
“She’s down for her nap.” He came back into your bedroom a while later. You just hummed.
“I’ll feed her when she wakes up again.” You practically scoffed at him for no reason. It was uncalled for but you just felt so annoyed. What were you two doing… it felt so unnecessary and yet you couldn’t get over the hurdle. Trent stared at you in bed. He didn’t like what he saw. He knew you, he knew your body so well and yet you almost looked foreign. You were limp, crashed into the bed, face first into the pillows, barely under the covers. It made him terribly sad. As hard headed as Trent could be, he wasn’t dumb. He was a really empathetic person; he just needed a minute to sort out his own emotions. He needed to really get a good look at you again. Like right now, it was like something changed. Like he finally understood what was going on.
“Y/N…” he cooed softly sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. He very cautiously reached his hand out to stroke your arm. You felt cold. He shut his eyes, hating how things had been. You had just become a family, welcomed your baby girl together and yet you had never felt less like one. He kissed the back of your arm. You shivered feeling the lips you absolutely adored for the first time in a while. You missed him. “I want to make things better. I’m really sorry. Can we talk?” He nervously murmured out. A barely there subtle soft smile pulled on your face. You knew you would get to the point of having a calm discussion about what’s been going on. You didn’t think it would take so long and honestly you didn’t think it’d be him to initiate it but it didn’t matter. You sat back against the headboard of your bed and pulled your knees to your chest. You looked at him closely inspecting his face to see if it had changed any since you last had a proper look. It hadn’t. His eyes still had a warm honey hue in the light, lips still perfectly plump, his skin annoyingly smooth despite minimal effort. His amber smell wafted towards you.
“I’m sorry too, baby.” You looked at him with obvious pain in your eyes. When he heard the pet name he knew you had to just make it through this conversation and everything would be a lot better.
“I know I should know and understand without having to do this but can you explain to me what you’ve been feeling? I want to hear you out so I can be better. Just tell me what I need to do to get things back on track. How do I do more than I’m doing? I feel exhausted.” He babled a little feeling just as nervous as you. His words kind of broke your heart. He really was trying his best. He didn’t know how to do anything different yet.
“T… I know you do a lot for me, for her, for us but as much as it is work for you… you do get to leave here everyday. You get the escape. I know you think about us when you’re not here” he nodded, confirming he definitely did think about you but he didn’t want to interrupt you so he stayed silent. “Just consider for even the 90 minutes when you are fully focused on a match. As you should be, I’m not saying otherwise. That's 90 minutes I’m alone, with her, at home, and unfortunately still dealing with a lot of the physical aftermath as well. Like my body is in so much discomfort and pain and I have her on me constantly. I don’t mean to sound patronizing but you could never understand how I feel in my own body right now… and that’s just the some odd 90 minutes we’re talking about not all the days you’re away for” your eyes started to welle. “I need you to support me a little here.” Your voice was shaky. Trent reached out and grabbed your hands.
“I want to support you, baby I’m so sorry.” He quivered, upset you had been feeling this way. “I hate that I wasn’t thinking about things that way. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, what you went through to give us our family. I think I pull out this card that I am providing for you because it’s one of the only things I can give back to you. Only thing I know I can control and contribute. You give me so much, you gave me her. It’s hard because I know the way you provide for me is something I’ll never be able to reciprocate.” He stared at your intertwined hands unable to look you in the eyes. “I do think about you 24/7. I feel like I’m gonna cry when I pull out of the driveway and it’s not just about leaving Teddy, it's leaving you. It’s different now, leaving. I feel like I’m letting you down when I go. It was easier for me lately just to shut it out and not tell you that because I feel so guilty. Everytime I’m on the pitch laughing I just hope you’re at home laughing with her.” He tried to explain his rational and you understood.
“T, that’s the problem though. I don't want to be at home all the time. I don’t want you to feel guilty, baby, either but we really need to find a way to help the other person with what they’re going through. We’re both doing this for the first time and it’s really fucking hard” your voice was shaking realizing just how difficult things had been.
“We work a lot better together. I’m not keen on the whole opposing sides thing. How do we figure this out?” You knew Trent was very action oriented so you thought for a moment how to explain things.
“Okay…erm like I need to go get my hair done. Can you please actually tell me you’re taking her. Not go to your mums… like you, baby. Take her, don’t offer. She’s your baby too. And honestly, not even just going to do my hair, even showers at home, T. During the day if you’re here. She’s like glue… constantly stuck to me.” You giggled a little bit thinking about your baby girl’s clinginess.
“She’s cute glue to be fair” he laughed and it shattered your heart in the best way. He hadn’t laughed with you since dinner. You shook your head with a smile knowing that was half the issue here. Teddy was so cute, everything had just been glossed over every time she batted her eyes. “But I understand, baby.”
“How can I help you, T?” you asked, moving your hand to his thigh. Your touch sent electricity coursing through his body. He was staring at your hand on him before his eyes flickered up to lock with yours he gave you the most beautiful smile you loved. Childish, full.
“You know, maybe you can drive me AXA or come see me. I don’t mean to make it about footie but it’s where I have to be for almost 7 days a week. I want to see her. I want to see you.” He looked scared to even bring up football at the moment but he was right it was his whole life.
“I got it. We can do that. Would be nice. Little carpool… drop daddy off.” You cooed with a giggle bobbing back and forth on the bed thinking about it. You could feel the air lifting and lightening as you continued breaking down how to be more supportive. You talked for ages outlining things you both needed help with. “We can do this, hmm? “ you said apprehensively. He winked at you and your heart skipped a beat. You much preferred when you were on good terms. You gave him a childish smile. Both shy and confident about being able to figure this out with him.
“There she is.” He cooed, stroking his thumb over your full cheek. “My beautiful girl. I love you so so much. I’m sorry, baby. Honest. C’mere.” He pulled you into him and you felt your whole body relax. Relax more than it had in months. “We’re gonna be okay.” He kissed you. You felt a shiver run up your spine in the best way. You felt relief.
“And on cue… she’s nothing but persistent” you giggled hearing Teddy coo over the baby monitor. Trent kissed you again. He started to stand up from his seat on the bed.
“You want to shower? I’ll go get her.” He asked you genuinely serious.
“Funny…” you quipped back not amused with the joke you thought he was making.
“I’m serious! If we’re gonna do this you have to at least let me help you!” He laughed at you. He pulled you by your hands up from the bed. He placed his own hands on your shoulders and walked you into the en-suite.
“Okay, okay, I can do it.” You wiggled out of his hold and began to pull off your clothes. Laughing as your dragged your top over your head.
“So difficult” he teased with a similar laugh squeezing your now bare sides. He began to walk out of the bathroom.
“Hey T…” you stared in the mirror back at him. He turned around with a hum. “I love you, baby.” You said sheepishly but still very sure of it. He nodded with a soft sympathetic smile. “Could we maybe do a birthday redo today with Ted?”
“I love you more than anything in the world, beautiful. Absolutely, you girls going to to take me out?” He thought he was so so funny all the time. The corniness was half the charm. He just was cute and simultaneously sexy.
“Just so annoying all the time.”you joked as he walked a little closer to you before he smushed another wet kiss onto your cheek that you loved. When he came back in with Teddy already dressed, ready to go, you knew things were going to be fine. You both were just new at this whole parenting thing. Trent drove down into the city center and you felt so incredibly domestic going on a family outing. You decided on something low key and normal so you went out to get coffees and walk the docks.
“I haven’t been down here for ages.” He spoke into the crisp fall air. He pushed Teddy’s Dior pram back and forth as you sat outside at a little coffee place you loved.
“You’ve been missing out on a very good croissant” you mumbled with your mouth full.
“Clearly.” He laughed at you before pulling a hearty piece from your croissant to pop in his mouth.
“Me and Marce used to come here all the time, you know?” You kept talking. You weren’t even sure he knew that. So it made you smile to connect again. Talk about things and open up.
“You two do so much shit without me” Trent feigned jealousy but as much as he joked you knew he actually did feel a little envious of all the relaxed down time you and his brothers shared together.
“We’ll start being bad at your job and maybe you wouldn’t have to play in Europe all the time, you could hang with us.” You teased leaning over to check on Teddy.
“You know you maybe should’ve been a comedian, baby. Just hilarious all the time. So funny. I’m dying of laughter.” He said with a completely straight face. You could tell though he was making a big effort not to crack a smile at you. “What do you think, Ted? Is mummy funny?” Trent cocked his head to look at her. She just wiggled in her seat excited she was getting attention from him. She loved anytime Trent even walked into a room let alone paid her mind. You grabbed her tiny hand gently folding it into a thumbs up and showed it to him. He rolled his eyes at you.
“You said that on our first date too and I think I proved you wrong. I am funny. You do think I am whether you want to admit it.” You teased referring to when you met outside your apartment for the first time telling him you would have to take the subway to dinner.
“You’re not as funny as you think” he quipped. You walked next to him up to the corner of your block towards the restaurant.
A lot of memories came up lately just because of the massive change you were experiencing. A part of you felt like you were mourning the loss of the juvenile versions of yourselves who didn’t have a care in the world. Your only concern was being each other's arms and the painstaking moments between kisses. Now… now you had a life you had to support, a human to raise. You reached across the table and grabbed Trent’s hand. You ran your fingers back and forth over his knuckles. He smiled at you and picked his hand up with yours. He pressed his lips lightly to your skin. You picked your head up to look at the water, as a boat further out in the river coasted by. You clocked a man taking a photo of Trent as you sat at the table outside the cafe.
“Seriously, if only you were bad at your job.” You nodded subtly towards the man. Trent turned to see him after your gesture. He looked back at you with an apologetic look. He was just trying to spend time with you and Teddy so when the man came over it was a little awkward but he was still really kind and patient. Trent really didn’t want a photo of Teddy out yet though so he politely declined the photo.
“Sorry, mate, I’d love to but I’m with my family right now. It was lovely to meet you though. Thank you for all your support.” Trent spoke low, not trying to draw more attention to himself in downtown Liverpool.
“You can.” You whispered with a nod of approval not minding if he took a photo.
“Ahhh yeah alright lad, you know what we’ll take one quick. Face this way.” Trent turned so the city was behind them in the photo, not you and Teddy. He winked at you. You picked up Teddy from her pram and kept her tight to your chest, rocking her gently.
You went home and ate dinner at your dinning room table with your family. You couldn’t believe you had a family now but you were just happy that you and Trent were back to the place you were in before. You made the cake you previously had planned to with the help of some grubby fingers taste tasting and they weren’t Teddy’s. You had given Trent his presents on his actually birthday but this felt more important, more special. You wanted to make Trent something from scratch. You grew up with the luxury of learning how to bake and cook, not needing to. Your mum brought you with her to France to take some classes for your 16th birthday once and you found you had a knack for it. It was a good cake to be honest, a take on funfetti. You had shown Trent funfetti when you were on a trip back in the US once and he just loved it so that was that. Birthday cake decision made. You placed birthday candles in the cake and dimmed the lights in your dining room and sang happy birthday to him swaying with your baby girl. When you finished and he blew out his candles he pulled you into his lap. You sat down nuzzling your face into his neck.
“Happy Birthday Daddy, we love you so much, T.” You kissed his neck again and again. Teddy attempted a giggle and a smile fascinated with the noise of your lips peeling on and off his skin. “Say happy birthday dada” you cooed squishing Teddy’s cheeks together with one hand gently. She squealed. You both laughed at her excitement.
“Thank you my beautiful girls. You’re my whole world. I love you both so much.” He gave Teddy a big kiss and you pouted at him as you waited for yours. Teddy wasn’t sleeping through the night but her naps were getting longer you guessed. You and Trent laid her down for what Trent was hoping to be an especially long one.
“Did I tell you how sexy you looked today?” He whispered in your ear with a cheeky nibble to your earlobe as you walked down the hallway. His arms hung around your frame heavily. You rolled your eyes swatting at his arm.
“C’mon, baby. How often do I tell you you’re sexy? I need you to know how sexy you are.” He cooed as you entered your bedroom. He plopped onto the edge of the bed and you went to follow him for a cuddle. You wanted to be close to him. Finally back in each others good graces you wanted to feel connected. Trent did too just in a different way. He held his hand out to stop you from coming closer. You cocked your head confused. You backed up a few steps and stared at him waiting for him to tell you some sort of direction.
“Lemme see. I know you. Lemme see what you have on today.” He spoke with a tone that sent the most excited shiver running down your spine, your pussy throbbed. You gradually began to pull your clothes off, layer by layer. You stripped for him. You giggled at the way it made you feel. Trent had a way of making you feel sexy without even touching you. The way his jaw slacked. You turned away from him to slide off the trousers you had on, bending over. He groaned throwing his head back as you spun around for him. He shook his head in disbelief of your figure. “Still my birthday?” You nodded with a shy smile. “Lay down for me…” so you followed instructions. He watched you lay back on the bed. To be fair you hadn’t really thought of doing this tonight but regardless you always liked to get undressed in front of Trent revealing little lingerie sets and he knew you did it for him. You wouldn’t even turn to acknowledge him as you’d lean over the bathroom sink counter in different colored lace every day just for show. He climbed over you and looped his finger under the middle of the sheer black Gucci bralette you’d chosen for today. Your breath hitched. Okay, now you were definitely thinking about it. You were praying he’d be gentle with you since this would be your first time after Teddy but also funnily with the lingerie too; you liked it and it was expensive. You’d lost too many pairs of panties over your relationship with him to tears. He looked down at you with a look you forgot made your heart race. He kissed your ankle. “I love these legs, I love these thighs.” He worked kisses all over and up your whole body. “I love this hip, this stomach..” he kissed every bit of you. You couldn’t get enough of falling back into the swing of things with him.
“Baby, be gentle with me, okay?” You said to him with fear in your eyes. You sighed a little embarrassed. He just looked at you in adoration.
“I’ll take care of you, yeah? I always do. Make you remember just how beautiful I think you are.” He whispered into your ear. The vibration alone made goosebumps raise on your skin. You had the biggest fucking smile on your face after he said that. You knew you were in for a treat. Sex with Trent was something you hoped you would never struggle with. His hand lightly grabbed your jaw pulling you into a kiss. His plump soft lips feeling as perfect as ever. He dragged his hand down your throat and you moaned missing this feeling. This feeling of Trent in total control of you. He kept his hands on you and over you before he cheekily pitched your nipples.
“Oh, fuckkk” you yelped out incredibly sensitive and incredibly turned on.
“Open your mouth f’me, beautiful.” He cooed and without needing to think you did. Your eyes widened in awe of how sexy he looked above you. His other hand beginning to work his length. You sucked around his fingers licking the underside like you would his cock. He abruptly pulled them out and guided them down to your pussy. He ran his fingers through your folds before he began to slowly pump two thick digits inside of you. “Fuck, baby. I missed this pussy. Feel so good already” his voice rumbled in the quiet room as his thumb stretched up to roll over your clit.
“C’mere baby. You’re so fucking soaked I bet I could just…” he dragged his tip through your wet pussy. You weren’t expecting to be as wet as you were but it was Trent you shouldn’t have been all that surprised. “You’re so beautiful and all mine” he paused perfectly, lining up his cock with your entrance and suddenly all of the air slipped out of your lungs. He was on his knees in front of you holding your one leg up as you laid back into the mattress. His firm grip around you doing most of the work.
“Oh my fucking god, T…” Oh my god was right. You could never forget how good the sex was but this. This felt really fucking good. Your eyes fluttered closed as he slowly pushed deeper, sticking to his promise to be gentle. You gasped feeling his length. You cupped his scruffy cheeks. You blew out short breaths as you tried to adjust to his size.
“I love you so much, you know that right?” He whispered again. He felt good but also slightly uncomfortable and strangely new again. He sank his body weight down on top of you so that he became your entire focus trying to not let your mind spiral into anxiety about what he thought you felt like after your baby. You could only nod. You breathed heavily. Your legs wrapped around his arm curling to hook around it, shutting your eyes in pleasure.
“I love you, T.” You whined as you felt your legs tremble already. He nuzzled impossibly deeper. You blinked your eyes open. You locked with his deep brown eyes, soft and sensitive filled with sincerity. You tried to makeout with him needing to feel those lips on yours but you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think let alone multitask as he began to thrust into you slowly. You were anxious to do this but frankly, Trent felt unbelievable and if possible maybe somehow better than that. Being back inside you had his head spinning. His heart faltered a little seeing your beautiful face scrunch up. His body weight further pressed onto you while he scooped his arm under your other leg holding it up closer to your chest Your nails dug into his biceps leaving crescent marks. You whined a sound that was music to his ears. You found a rhythm that worked for you. A rhythm that made your slightly enlarged boobs bounce more for him.
“God, I love your tits, baby.” He said it with a smile eliciting a giggle from you at the compliment. Sex had never felt better emotionally. Your eyes started to water. You felt so in love with him. “You okay, baby? Tell me you’re okay. Tell me you want this?." You really did appreciate his concern; it was just hard to talk at the moment. He leaned closer to your neck licking over your most sensitive spots waiting for a response. “Hmm?”
“I want you, T. You just feel really good.” You whimpered. Tears filled your lash line so he slowed. “Please, T… more.” His eyes widened. He was nervous his current pace was already too much so it was a surprise to hear.
“I'm right here. You have me.” His face was hovering over yours. He managed to give you the kisses you so desperately wanted all over your face, your neck, your shoulders underneath him. You clenched around him. He felt it and almost giggled. He was excited to have this power back. “You wanna be a good girl and cum for me, baby?”
“I’m gonna cum. Please. Please, T. Make me cum.” You moaned as he pushed a little deeper inside with every thrust. A familiar but distant feeling crashed over you. Your brain turning to mush. His cock throbbed inside you. He grunted overwhelmed seeing you cum under him once again. He could imagine it all he wanted but he missed seeing it in real time. “T… cum inside me again, okay? Make me take all of it. I want it. Cum for me.” You whined more. He let out a strained breath. That was it for him. Knowing you missed this. That you wanted this. Wanted him. He tipped over the edge, pumping you full of his cum. With one more final deep thrust he ran his hands through your hair grabbing it pulling your head forward into the most passionate kiss you might’ve ever shared. The tension you had felt the past few weeks evaporated. You stayed tight to his body as you breathed heavily. You both were panting as he leaned his forehead on yours before he as tender as possible pulled out. He sat back for a moment and admired you. Stroking up your thigh gingerly, he breathed out a sigh of appreciation.
“Can you be a good girl f’me and spread your legs.” He asked so kindly you did it almost instinctively. “Fucking unreal. Every day since I met you.” He kissed from your stomach up to your neck nuzzling his face in his hands trailing behind his tongue the whole way. You thought you’d cuddle till Teddy woke up but you were wrong. You spread your legs the best you could. Trent cursed. His fingers traced through your folds gathering up the cum. He swiftly and slowly dipped two of his fingers inside of you. The sensation was so overwhelming and overstimulating. He pumped them methodically, deep, curling inside you.
“Wait.. wait baby. Ah!” You whined. Your hips bucking up into him.
“Gimme one more, baby.” He asked as he nibbled on your neck. You couldn’t handle the feeling. It was too much and you had poor control. You came hard and fast, squirting a little.
“Fuck… T” You panted so heavily. Completely out of breath. You just laid there eyes closed as your chest heaved up and down. You needed a moment. He laughed and frantically laid down next to you pretty proud of his work. You were tangled up in bed until you heard the little coo and whine you loved so much.
“Lemme go check on her, you stay put. I bet you’re tired.” Trent winked at you and as annoying as his playful comment was, it was very true. He pulled on his boxers and sweats and walked down the hallway into Teddy’s nursery.
“Baby bear, you okay?” Trent cooed, scooping Teddy up gently as her cries lulled. He hummed, swaying back and forth. “Wish you could tell me what you’d need. I’d do it right away, you know that?” He pressed his lips to her identical ones. “‘My little Ted. You’re so beautiful. You look like me, but I can’t tell you’re perfect just like mummy, baby girl” he whispered softly to her. It was a while later and you still laid in bed expecting to have fallen right to sleep after all that with Trent but you couldn’t knowing your two favorite people in the world were still awake just down the hall. You got up and put on a little gray sleep set. It was comfortable and that’s just what your body needed right now because you definitely were sore.
“I felt left out.” You pouted in the doorway of Teddy’s room looking at Trent reading her a book. He picked his head up with a soft smile and beckoned you over to sit on the couch with them. Teddy’s face lit up.
“Oh wow… you excited to see mummy, huh teddy girl? Weren’t that excited to see me.” Trent teased. You slapped at his bare chest before grabbing her. She hiccuped overly excited. Her head fell onto you. You hummed kissing her chubby cheek . “I like this.” He pulled on the fabric of the tiny shorts you were in. You shrugged.
“You can continue. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” You giggled a little. You smushed your face into Trent’s arm ruining your view of the colorful book but making a better one for her. You pushed your lips to kiss Trent as he read. The sound of his voice was perfect, calm and steady. It lulled you into an incredibly sleepy state. Trent plucked Teddy out of your tired arms to hold her more securely. He wrapped his free arm around you and pulled you into him. Your head fell onto his shoulder. You hugged his waist tightly.
“My girls. Hmm?” He cooed, pressing a kiss to you and Teddy. You fell asleep listening to him. He let you and Teddy sleep on him for a while. He just relaxed, closing his eyes, happy with the affection, rubbing his hands up your back. Some time later Teddy woke up and was restless. Her little grunts and whines woke you up. “You wanna feed Ted then you and me can go try to get in bed?” Trent cooed with a sympathetic smile knowing you were exhausted. You nodded still half asleep but you understood. Sticking to your schedule was important for all of you. It took longer than expected to get her fed and down again but you did it. You draped your arms around Trent’s shoulders just staring up at him tired in her room. He pressed his nose to yours. His hands cheekily sliding over your ass. He kneaded it, raising up the material of your shorts. He pulled you closer into his embrace. He cupped your ass and picked you up from under your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his waist.
“We’re actually going to bed… like sleep, right?” You cooed as Trent walked you back to your room in his arms. He laughed a little. You were nervous with the way his hands were on you if he was trying to have sex again and you were sure you could handle that yet.
“Yeah. We need to sleep. I have to go in tomorrow at 10 too.” He cooed as you stroked your thumb over his cheek. You pushed your face into the nape of his neck until he placed you on your bed. “Baby, we’re gonna be okay. I promise we’ll work on this together. I won’t let us get that way again. I know we’ll have our dips but we’re just learning to grow together.”
“I agree. Just have to talk more I think. I’m sorry I didn’t express how I felt. It’s unfair to assume you should know how I feel without me verbalizing it, that you know what is going on when we’re both doing this for the first time.” He shook his head dismissing your apology. “We might have dips like you said but T, I want this. I want us. I want this to work. God, I need this to work. I don’t think I could survive without you.”
“You could but you’ll never have to. Never even give you the chance to find out.” He cut you off. You squeezed his arm.
“I don’t want to find out. T… what do you think will happen next for us?” You tucked in closer to him cuddling up in your bed. He didn’t respond right away so you felt a little taken aback. Awkward almost. Ironic considering the things that were just said. “Like in the next five years, you know?” You tried to clarify.
“No, I know what you meant. I was just thinking of how I wanted to phrase it. I know this sounds cheesy so don’t make fun cause I’m serious.” He spoke slow. You hung onto every word of his.
“Serious” you mocked his accent and he gave you glare. You just smiled back.
“Next five years for me… just loving you. I’ve told you a million times I want to get married. I know we’re not too far into this one but I’d want another another baby… you know whenever you’re ready.” He tried to unnecessarily explain there was no pressure.
“Really?!” You would’ve squealed with excitement if Teddy weren’t finally asleep. You had jumped at the word marriage. “What ring are you gonna get meeee?” You giddily teased and moved even closer to him, laying your head and hand on his chest. “I think if I were to like make my perfect ring from scratch..” you began talking at the speed of light. You were off in dream land now. “I want a tou et moi because that’s what my parents did.” He nodded with a smile lovingly the way you spoke, the way you looked when you got excited. “I like the two-stone setting too. It’s just so beautiful to look down and see like a real representation of two people together and I kinda like the idea of the three ring deal.” You were referring to the concept of having one ring for engagement, one for marriage, and one for eternal love, usually anniversaries. Trent listened intently watching your animations. He’d asked you before nonchalantly what you wanted but you didn’t think much of it. You knew he talked about marrying you but you didn’t know when or even if that would happen.
“Oh yeah?” He picked up your left hand and kissed your knuckles. He felt pretty good about himself imagining what he has had hidden downstairs in a safe for about a year now.
•
Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter … 🤍
Next part - Chapter 8 xx
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Sevika × Great outdoors lesbian reader
Because Sevika has definitely never laid a hand on a real tree. But that's fine! She can just fall in love with somebody who knows all about trees and nature in general :)
(Maybe they can go hug some together when they're old coots)
this is hilarious
men and minors dni
sevika doesn't like nature.
she's never been one for the outdoors. as a kid, she spent most of her time in her room reading. as an adult, she spends most of her time working. being outside is something that happens to sevika only when she needs to get from one inside setting to another. she'd never choose to just... go outside.
there's bugs outside. and wind. and unpredictable weather, which always ends up with sevika sweating and getting all sticky, or getting caught in the fucking rain and being damp the rest of the day, or freezing her tits off on what was supposed to be a mild spring day.
so, no. sevika's not an outdoors-y person.
but then she meets you.
you guys hit it off instantaneously, sevika's pretty sure she falls head over heels in love with you on your first date. it's pathetic and embarrassing, but she's too enamored to care about how cheesy she is with you.
and then you ask her out on a picnic.
she tries so hard to pretend like she likes nature. she tries to pretend that the sun beaming down on her is pleasant, and not making her hot; like the grass isn't prickly and itchy; like the mosquito and flies swarming your spot aren't bothering her.
and she is having fun, don't get her wrong! she loves seeing you in the sun, she's pretty sure you've got sunshine somewhere inside you. she adores watching you make flower chains, is impressed with how patiently and gently you place a stray beetle crawling on your lap onto a plant, loves listening you babble about various birds that fly overhead, and the type of tree you're sitting under.
but, that doesn't stop her from grumpily shoving her hair out of her face when the wind blows it, or screaming when a spider crawls across her leg.
"sevika." you giggle at the end of your date. you've walked her home, and you're exchanging kisses at her front door.
"mhm?" she asks.
"if you don't like being outside, we don't have to go to the botanical gardens next weekend." you say, referring to the date you guys planned together a few hours ago. "we can go to a restaurant or catch a movie or something."
"but you're so excited for the arbor day celebration! you've been babbling about it since you picked me up!" she says. you giggle.
"yeah, but i don't want you to be miserable on our date."
"i won't be, i promise." she says, kissing your worries away. "i'll be with you-- nothing can make me miserable when i'm with you."
as your relationship progresses, sevika becomes slightly more connected to nature. how could she not, when you're constantly outside in the yard, gardening and watching birds and fucking foraging wild foods-- always rambling sweetly about the plants and animals you see?
this doesn't mean she'd ever choose to go outside. but if you're going, she'll always tag along.
she starts to like nature walks. when she's moving, the bugs can't catch her as fast. plus, she sees a ton of cute dogs on her walks with you-- that's always a plus.
she loves the more scientific side of raising a garden with you. she'll be the one to sprout all your seeds inside on a sunny windowsill, nurturing them until they're big enough to survive outside. she's also the one who'll visit the garden supply store and help you figure out ph-levels in soils, fertilizers, where you should plant each crop to get the proper amount of sun in your yard... she's into the logistics of it all.
she takes care of all the houseplants too-- she's got a little schedule written for herself on a post-it about which plant to water when. it's really cute.
you're most likely to get her to spend a day in the park with you when it's fall.
it's her favorite season. the sun is always hiding behind grey clouds, which means she gets less migraines. the bugs have all gone away for the season, and the coolish weather is the perfect temperature for her. plus, she loves the smell of the dying leaves.
(you know she likes the way the leaves change colors too-- but she'll never say something so romantic and cheesy out loud.)
her favorite outdoor activity, however, is sitting on your screened in back-porch-- a pair of binoculars hanging from her neck, both of you waiting for pretty birds to come visit the various feeders you have scattered around your property. she gets to sit and smoke, she gets to be kinda inside, and she gets to watch the way you grin when you see a bird you've never seen before.
sure, she finds the birds pretty, but she finds your reactions much prettier.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll
@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re
@raphaellearp @iamastar @sevikitty
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Absolutely half assing this as I sit outside and watch my dog run around the yard while the cicadas and frogs chirp and lightning bugs dance but…
Imagine bringing Nanami Kento to your family’s countryside home. Situated among rolling hills and large trees, lush meadows, a quiet little town. The people you’ve grown up around mainly work trade jobs, never straying far from the agricultural goldmine that was your city.
You’d both gotten approved for a well-deserved vacation, a couple days to spend relaxing in one another’s presence, desperate to unwind after the shitshow that was killing curses for a living.
You and Nanami had been dating for a few months at this point, never breaching the topic of visiting hometowns or the like just yet. However, you felt like he’d enjoy the serenity and the quiet of the yard you grew up in, the home now yours and kept up by you when you could go visit, your parents having retired somewhere along the coast. This left you with your childhood home filled with memories.
You’d been nervous at first, the question lingering on your lips for far too long before you bit the bullet and pitched the idea one night when the two of you were curled up on the couch together, reading your own respective novels. You’d been pressed against Nanami’s chest, his long legs caged around your body as you nestled into him.
“Kento… Um, would you like to visit my hometown with me?” You’d cringed the moment that the words had come from your mouth. You were just about to tell him that he shouldn’t feel obligated when you felt arms wrap around your waist, book placed down, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to the back of your shoulder, near your neck.
“I’d love to.”
So here you both were, sitting beside one another on the back porch of your home as you quietly drank in the sound of chirping cicadas, frogs croaking, and the gentle sound of wind rustling through the trees. The sun was fast setting along the horizon behind the hills. The view felt surreal, your home sitting perfectly where you could witness the sunset every night.
You leaned your body into Nanami’s shoulder as an appreciative smile graced your lips. He reached for your hand and interlocked his fingers with yours. No words needed to be spoken for you both to understand how much you needed this.
To feel the quiet, to feel nothing and everything at once. Each other’s presence was more than what you could both ask for.
“Thank you for bringing me here with you,” Nanami had whispered into the warm night air. You squeezed his hand in response to the soft rumble of his voice.
“Of course.” You’d said, adjusting your head to look him in the eyes, gaze tilted upwards.
You wished you could stay here with him forever, you think. Unfortunately, deep in your heart, you knew that this kind of peace was never really meant for sorcerers like you or Nanami.
That didn’t stop you from enjoying the current moment, though. It made you all the more thankful.
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The Daughter's Return Part 3
Chapter 26: Thereafter
Start From Beginning | Table of Contents | Read on AO3
Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace
Word Count: 1k
AN: This is more of an epilogue of sorts. There's not a lot of dialogue, but it does kind of wrap everything up. I really have enjoyed writing this, and I hope you have enjoyed it as well :) thanks for a fun time and a great ride. I could say 5,000 more things about this fic and how much I love you for supporting it, but let's finish this up :)
It had taken Ace a few days to make the house liveable, but plenty of people had opened their homes for you to stay in while you all finished the essential repairs. They never made you feel like a burden, and even though you tried to keep to yourselves, they were eager to get to know you.
You had expected to pay for all the tools you needed, but the townsfolk on this island were kind and generous. Several families had lent Ace tools, and some had even come by to offer their help. Even though you were on a hill outside of town, people dropped in throughout the day, bringing baked goods or hand-sewn linens as welcoming gifts.
So much for privacy. You had more of it in your shared bunkhouse on the Moby Dick.
But you didn’t find yourself irritated by the townspeople’s check-ins. While most of them asked basic questions about your past and eyed Ace’s scarred back, they never pried. And even better, they always seemed to know when it was time to leave.
After a few weeks, you had fallen into a strange pattern of familiarity. Even as your belly grew bigger, you tried your best to help Ace as much as you could every day. In the morning, you would get up and make him coffee. He would always scold you, claiming that you were the one who was supposed to be pampered right now, but he continued to allow you to do it for now.
You all would eat a quick breakfast, and then begin to work on house improvements. The morning was the best time to work, since it was still cool out. The two of you patched up holes in the walls and began to decorate the inside of your little two-bedroom cabin. The projects never seemed to end.
And every morning while you worked, Mr. Cheddle would deliver a newspaper, and you would invite him in for breakfast. If he declined, you would send him some kind of snack to thank him for bringing the paper up the hill. You knew he didn’t mind, but you still felt obligated to send him away with something.
You’d leave Ace to go make lunch, and usually find some variety of baked goods on the counter from someone welcoming you to the town. You often found yourself wondering if people would ever stop sending you things, or if you would become someone who baked for your neighbors just for the hell of it.
At lunch, you would read the paper and update Ace on anything interesting. Afterwards, the two of you would typically walk to town together to find something to do. Some days you would shop, others you would go your separate ways. Whether it was tea with Arabelle, or a walk in the park with Crilly and her three dogs, or even sitting at Sellie-Tien’s shop and catching up on gossip, you always found something to do.
And as the sun set, you and Ace would walk back up the hill, talking of your time spent apart, and even stopping to chat with others along the road.
What a strange life you were living. How mundane it all was. And yet…perfect.
On one particular day it had been too hot for you to work, even in the morning. And with nothing to do, you decided to read the News Coo early. You kept your eyes peeled for any words of Luffy, but there had been no news of him since his stunt at Marineford.
However, today there was far more interesting news on the front page. One you had been waiting for.
One about Portgas D. Ace.
“You’re dead!” You cheered, holding up the News Coo to show Ace.
Ace dropped his tools and ran over to you, reading it over quickly.
“They made a grave for me and everything,” he said. “Impressive.”
“It helps that they took your hat,” you mentioned. He pouted at the thought.
“I’m gonna miss that hat.” He handed the paper back to you. “What about you?”
“Still nothing.” You read through the article once again just to make sure you hadn’t skipped anything. “I doubt they’ll officially say I’m dead.”
“Really?” Ace asked. “Why’s that?”
“Because they reported it wrong once,” you admitted, setting the paper down. “They can’t do that again. Can you imagine the embarrassment?”
“But they won’t bother us here.” Ace looked out over the ocean. “They don’t have jurisdiction.”
“That’s why Marco chose it for us,” you said. “It’s quiet. Out of the way. Nobody will bother us. It’s perfect.”
“Seems like a more than fair trade off,” Ace said, and you nodded in agreement.
“We finally get to have our happily ever after.”
Ace smiled at you, kissing your cheek. “And I can’t wait to spend it with you. Our perfect little family.”
---
Sengoku stared long and hard at a small piece of paper with little hearts doodled all over. Against everything that he knew and had been told, the card sat between his fingers in perfect condition.
Garp walked into the room, full of drive and purpose. “Listen Sengoku, I need to tell you something. I-“
“I know,” he said. “You’re going to retire. But before you turn in that resignation letter, I want to give you something.”
Sengoku handed off the piece of paper covered with hearts. “Do with this what you will. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve never seen it.”
Garp examined it, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the name written across it in perfect cursive. Ace.
“Where did you get this?”
“We took it off Portgas D. Ace when he arrived at Impel Down. We thought it belonged to him, but that must not be the case, since he’s dead now.”
Garp held the card in his hand carefully. The paper slowly inched away from him. “So who’s it belong to then?”
“Probably nobody,” Sengoku shrugged. “I’m about to retire myself, and that little scrap of paper seems like a lot of paperwork and a lot of personal investigation. I just don’t have it in me. Especially for some pirate who we all saw die. Take it off my hands for me. Do something with it, just don’t tell me what. As a favor.”
“Yes sir,” Garp said, tears in his eyes. “Thank you.”
“No Garp,” Sengoku said. “Thank you.”
--
Tag list! @taeyoge @teiza @tojislawyer @trafalgardnami @bloopbopsblog @dancingnewcat @dxestyi @flooofity @nyxthedragon01 @deadsnothere @h-rhodes1598 @morgyyyyyyy @trafalgardvivi @fiestynatureweeb @frogpogjoghurt @beepboopcowboy @ms-portgas @luvyallbabes @appalost @zuchkaa @saybeyonce @stray-npc @kitsunechan707 @theyluvmesblog @heartysworld @aira-needs-sleep @mothmomjay @ophelias-flowerss @aqualein @sehyojae @fanficwriter5 @forgotten-blues @amberash05 @firefistnoct @depressed-but-make-it-cute @stuckinthewrongworld@lizpoir
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Like a sun, shining late at night
Frankie Morales x f!reader
Summary: Frankie works in a coffee shop where you have been coming for the last few months. The crush from the first time he ever saw you is bubbling over on the hottest day of the summer.
warnings: Frankie and reader are in their twenties, small town vibes, pining, fluff, kissing, no use of y/n, reader has no pronouns and wears a dress, the picture in the header is just for the visual and isn't an indication of the reader's skin color. Not beta read.
word count: 9.3k
notes: Happy Frankie Friday! I wrote this for @secretelephanttattoo 's secret springs creative challenge and it's purely self indulgent. I'm graduating from university next month and the idea for this fic came from that. This also falls more in to the first week's theme, but I didn't have time to finish this until now. I hope you'll enjoy!
Dividers by saradika
”Frankie, can we switch, I need a break,” his coworker whines in a hushed tone, leaning against the wall. She has the gift of puppy dog eyes that she has perfected over time and uses only when absolutely necessary. No one can say no to her.
Frankie dries his hands on a too wet hand towel; the break doesn’t come a moment too late. He just finished cleaning the cabinets in the kitchen that’s more like a shoebox than an actual kitchen.
Their boss was right. Times like these, when waves of customers aren’t pushing in through the door, is the perfect time to clean. The narrow space of the shoebox-kitchen in a heatwave is an experience Frankie wouldn’t mind skipping though.
His skin is sticky and little droplets of sweat have formed into big splotches of wet fabric on his t-shirt, stretched across his shoulders and upper back. The electric fan in the cramped corner is barely functioning and begs to be replaced in a weather like this.
“The kitchen is all yours,” Frankie gives the damp rag to the younger coworker and sees her eyes light up when he relieves her from the front of the coffee shop. She might handle the humidity a bit better, at least she has enthusiasm to immediately push the damp cloth against the fridge door and find something to furiously scratch off.
Only a couple of tables are taken under the exhausted ceiling fan circling warm air in the cozy café. More people are sitting outside by small round tables under pastel striped umbrellas.
The pink lemonade they make daily from the boss’ recipe is sweating with ice in most customer’s cups, easing the effects of a seemingly endless spell of sweltering heat. The town center has fallen quieter as people are either enjoying their summer holidays by travelling or spending their time at the beach not too far away.
Frankie can’t blame them. Anyone would escape the temperatures in this weather. The ones who are brave enough to stand the scorch from the concrete and minimal shade from any dry trees lining the streets have made their way to cafes with cold drinks and ice creams. The amount of different fresh baked goods, bread and pastries, that are delivered daily have been cut in half just because people are more interested in something light and cold.
The sounds from the street flow into the coffee shop in waves through the open windows and door. Frankie says pleasantries to the few people who come and go and leave their tables for him to empty. He does a few turns outside to bring a straw for a child who dropped his to the ground and to wipe the artisan gelato off the table when someone accidentally knocked over their bowl.
There’s easy music playing from the speakers. They lull him into staring outside, at the people in their airy clothes and sun on their skins. There’s nothing else for him to do other than wait for someone to come in or leave.
The sweat that pushed through earlier sits against his temples and back like a second skin. It’s not going to dry until the sun has set and the night sweeps through the town with cooler air. He listens to the laughter from people sitting outside and the screech of seagulls somewhere nearby.
Some kids skateboard past the café, a few on rollerblades. Few cars drive towards the coast at a crawling pace, pumping out music that shakes the glasses on the shelves lining the walls, turning people’s heads, while some nod to the beat.
This morning, when Frankie got out of the shower with his hair still dripping wet and his skin too stubborn to dry even after toweling, he looked at a t-shirt hanging on the back of a chair. It’s still newly crisp and in need of a few washes. The neckline isn’t worn and stretched from overuse yet, like his usual clothes he wears to work. He has his t-shirts and jeans, and sometimes a cap that his boss always reminds him to take off.
That isn’t the case anymore. He pulled the new t-shirt over his head and decided today would be the day. If you were to come by the coffee shop, that is.
He leans against the counter, doodling on a piece of old receipt; another order of pink lemonade and a sundae. The customer is enjoying them under the shade of one of the pastel umbrellas while reading a book.
Frankie’s curls are enjoying the heat and humidity, the salty air blowing in from the coast making him look like he shouldn’t be standing behind a register in a coffee shop but at the beach by a lifeguard station overlooking the waves. They fluff every time the ceiling fan manages to flutter the air with something that resembles a cooler breeze. A strand tickles his temple, immediately remembering your fingers against his forehead. It was just a simple touch.
“There’s a dandelion seed…” you mumbled last week, when you reached for him over the counter. He was making your drink, focused on pouring the milk into the mug, when like you would’ve done it a hundred times before, your fingers caught the fluff and stayed against his temple a second longer.
“All gone,” you said and continued your story about painting a wall in your childhood home deep green, like nothing had happened.
Frankie drops the pen against the stone counter and touches his fingers against the spot where yours had been. His heart gives a thump and another, the thought of you like cotton candy in his mind.
Everything changed when you walked into the coffee shop with a canvas bag flung over your shoulder.
It was the end of March. The day was grey and windy and people were looking for comfort inside the warmth of the café. It looked like it would rain at any moment, the air even smelled like it. The first time this spring.
You unraveled a thick scarf from around your neck and stopped by the door to take in the café. You took note of the few empty seats and tables, most taken by people working or by those who were on their lunch breaks.
Frankie could only stare at you, with his head going blank, until you took a step forward and you smiled at him. A joyful, eye crinkling smile that comes out easily and stays on your cheeks for a long time.
There was something else to it as well. It wasn’t just the smile that left him dumbfounded. It was the way you lit up from inside first, your skin glowing, your eyes sparkling even on the grayest of days like you held stars in your soul. It was enigmatic, electric, magnetic. Frankie immediately wished to experience it again.
You made your way to the counter and asked Frankie what he’d recommend for lunch.
“You new here?” He asked when he had written down your order and given it to someone working in the kitchen that day. He got to making your drink, a mocha that you gracefully asked to be made with more milk and sugar.
“Oh no, I’m from here but I moved away for college. I don’t get to visit as often anymore as I’d like. But now my last couple of courses are online and I could come back home to finish my thesis.” You took a deep breath and laughed out of nowhere. “That must’ve been exciting for you to hear.”
Your brow arched with the edge of your mouth. He could’ve listened to you read the ten different tea options they had and then he would’ve asked you to repeat them. He would’ve still been hungry to hear your voice more.
“It’s okay,” he said and turned awkwardly from you to steam the milk to hide the blush that crept up to his cheeks. The heat of it burst in waves that showed up across his skin in red splotches.
The milk got done too fast. He thought of anything cold, anything mundane, that would make his blood stream calm down. Just another customer, just another damn customer, he repeated to himself.
He poured the milk gently on top of the chocolate syrup and espresso, folding the foam in on itself to make a pattern on top of the drink. He had made it hundreds of times before, a skill he was proud of, yet now his hand was trembling, and the lines got muddled.
The mug barely made a noise when he set it on the counter, even though his attention was on you eyeing the fat cookies on top of the display cases. You read each label of the options carefully; chocolate chip, white chocolate and cranberry, macadamia and walnut, raisin, triple chocolate, salted caramel, cinnamon and brown sugar, –
“I’ll take one of those lemon and blueberry cookies as well, please.” Your smile got softer when you turned back to him.
“I hope you enjoy it,” he could only say, unsure if he meant the café or the lunch you were about to eat. The cookie looked massive on the small plate he placed next to the coffee mug, reaching high with blue swirls. He was mesmerized by the spark in your eyes and the unsaid mischief in your voice.
You stood in front of him, quiet. Your brows rose slowly and the longer the silence stretched, the more you looked confused.
“Should I wait for the sandwich and pay after or…?” You finally asked and it got Frankie to shake back into action.
“Fu –,” he caught himself just in time to not swear in front of you, even though it made that beautiful smile spill onto your lips again, this time accompanied with a light giggle. His wish came true. Your laugh was just a tip he didn’t expect to get, much more valuable than money in that moment.
“You can pay now, I’ll bring the sandwich to you,” his mouth barely kept up with the words and the moment was over so fast that he wasn’t sure what he had actually told you. But you dug out your wallet and your card and he was tapping on the register to get the right amount charged which he checked twice before you paid.
You accompanied your generous tip with a soft thank you before you collected your drink and cookie off the counter. There was another customer behind you already, forcing Frankie to focus. From the corner of his eye, he saw you sitting by the windows, peeling your coat off and hanging it on the back of your chair.
You sat down and for a fleeting moment he could’ve sworn that you were watching him, still with that smile on your face. When he was done with the customer who came after you, you were already typing on your laptop.
You stayed for hours. So long in fact that Frankie’s shift ended, and other people came in for their evening shifts. You ate your lunch, got another coffee and the same cookie after a few hours, and then kept on sipping on the drink even when it had gone cold long ago.
Your brows were pulled together and at times you leaned closer to read something on the screen of your laptop. You wrote fast. Your fingers flew against the keyboard and at times you stopped just to keep your fingertips hovered over the letters before you kept on going. The sound got drowned out in the steady ambient chatter of the café.
You had a notebook next to you where you wrote a few words here and there. When the café was fairly quiet, he could hear you clicking your pen a few times, then tap it against the half-filled page. A soft, muffled rhythm against the paper.
You rolled your shoulders back and bent your neck from side to side. Every once in a while, you looked out the window, at the darkening day, and the first drops of rain against the glass.
After that day you became a regular at the coffee shop. Every Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday Frankie could expect you to come by. Sometimes you came in early and spent the whole day there. Some other days you came in later and left early, but every time you had lunch and then typed away on your laptop.
Some days you looked more tired than some other days, and some other times your smile was a little dimmer than the others. It still fell on your face easily, but it wasn’t as wide or as energized as he had seen on you usually.
When the days were getting warmer and the sun stayed hung on the sky a little longer, you didn’t come to the coffee shop for two weeks. Frankie was doing his shift, waiting to see you that Tuesday like he normally would. To hear you tell him about your weekend, to hear your voice at all.
His shift ended and you didn’t show up. It left him empty, like something was missing. You had become such a constant at the café that when you broke the pattern, the day seemed off. Maybe you were sick, down with a cold that everyone seemed to have as winter shook from the trees and sunshine forced leaves to bud on the branches.
Then you didn’t come by the next day either. With his coworker Frankie tended to the constant stream of customers who came and went steadily in and out the door. When there was a break, he could only watch the cookies that managed to stay crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside. There weren’t many left anymore and your chances at choosing one were getting slimmer every time the door opened, and it wasn’t you who walked in. You didn’t.
When the weekend rolled around, there was a hollowness in Frankie’s chest. He was missing you, as terrifying as that was to admit to himself. He missed seeing you sit at one of the tables by the window where you could watch people as an escape from your work. He had never asked what your thesis was about, how it was going or what made you choose the topic. In that moment he regretted it.
Frankie missed the way you paid attention to what was happening around you. You listened to others, and you started to say hi to some of the other regular customers. Until he noticed you weren’t only paying attention to them but also him.
Sometimes he caught you staring, watching him do his job, follow his moves as he made drinks for customers, wrote down orders and listened to answers for his polite questions about how their day was going. In the beginning, you hastily turned from him in an attempt to not get caught even though he always already had.
He could see you smile when he entertained a toddler by making faces at her while her parents were choosing what to eat. Your brow furrowed and you shook your head when he listened to an older lady shamelessly hit on him.
And then one day you didn’t turn from him when he caught you staring. You stopped hiding your interest in what he was doing. Your cheeks caught the smile on your face and then you got back to your own work.
All those looks, all those smiles, made him want to say he was done for the day and come sit and people watch with you even if you wouldn’t have watched other people, only him.
The next Friday, after another whole week of not seeing you, Frankie didn’t have high hopes for you to show up that day either. It was possible that you had grown tired of the place, of the same sandwich you took every time, the mocha that you usually ordered twice, or the one or two cookies that you always got after careful consideration. Or maybe you were finished with your thesis. Maybe you had left the town again and he was wasting his days daydreaming about you.
The line was long, and the kitchen was overflowing with orders. Frankie had just finished typing one more and had it register in the kitchen when he lifted his gaze to find you standing in front of him.
You didn’t look like yourself. You held your canvas bag in a death grip on your shoulder and you were inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth, steadying your breath as best you could. You avoided looking at him and you hid under your clothes.
Your voice was sunken and without your usual animation, the fall and rise of your tone was gone. You didn’t make conversation. You didn’t ask how Frankie’s day had been or if anything unexpected had happened, like you normally did.
“I’ve just had a bit of a hard time lately,” you dropped the façade completely without actually saying anything. You only had to see Frankie’s face once to read the worry from the furrowed brow and the seriousness in his eyes.
His mouth was in a tight line, and he tried to understand you without asking you a serious question. He never had; he didn’t think it was his place even after weeks of friendly banter.
As he was preparing your order, your distress crawled under his skin as well. You opened the light jacket you wore over your sweatshirt, you flinched from the hiss of the espresso machine, and you stood there making yourself as small as you could.
In that moment he decided to get to know you better, to do something about the thump in his chest when you opened the door to the café and to the shivers that ran up and down his back when you stood close enough and he could smell your perfume.
So far, Frankie was harboring a crush across the café, a stolen glance here and a playful look there, an attempted flirty tone in his voice on questions that were too basic to incite any interest or a spark in the corner of his eye. You had captured him without you knowing it, and without him knowing what to do with the swell of happiness every time you were around.
You tried so hard to seem like yourself, but you were on autopilot. You ordered your usual coffee and sandwich. You stared at the foamy milk on top of your mocha. He put too much effort into his attempt at making the leafy shape perfect, only to mess it up and then mess it up even more when he wanted to fix it.
You didn’t say a word about it like you would have if it was like any other normal day. He noticed the short-bitten nails and cuticles on your hand when you paid for your order.
“I’ll bring it to the table,” Frankie told you, watched you nod once and drag your feet against the floor to your usual table. You sat there, staring out the window, your head tilted, and your mind elsewhere. Frankie took heavier steps than usual to alert you, but placing the sandwich in front of you still spooked you out of your head. You tucked your hands between your thighs and let the last bit of steam evaporate from your coffee and the grilled sandwich sit untouched until the fillings looked sad and undesirable.
There was finally a break in the flow of customers. Frankie’s head was buzzing, and his feet were tired. The breather couldn’t have come any later. Yet he didn’t take his break. Instead, he was drawn to observe you like you were a magnet to him. Whatever he was doing, he always made note of you. Something was missing.
“Could I get one of those big cookies?” A customer asked and it clicked instantly in what else was off.
“I didn’t order this,” you told him when he placed the thick chocolate chip cookie next to your laptop that you had managed to get out of your bag. He saw the screen; a text editor open with a margin full of notes and different parts of the text highlighted with red.
“it’s on the house,” he gave you a soft smile, hoping it would ease at least some of the anxiety that had made you look ill while reading through the document on your laptop. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see you burst into tears at any moment.
You thanked him without any sound actually leaving your throat before you got back to reading. He was bothered by the state of you. It made him turn on his heels and take those two steps back that he had put between the two of you.
“Can I ask you something?” He didn’t stop himself to consider before he asked the question, but it got you interested. You looked at him straight in the eyes for the first time the whole day and waited for him to continue.
“Why haven’t you ordered the chocolate chip cookie before?” The cakey cookie draws both of your attention to it and the question takes you by surprise.
“Because I knew I’d like it the most and wanted to save it for something special.” You picked it up and cracked a piece from it. Even Frankie could smell the buttery richness laced with the caramelly sweetness from the brown sugar the baker had once told she uses.
The chocolate was in big chunks, some broken, some sticking out from the piece between your fingers. Instead of taking a bite, like Frankie thought you would, you set the piece down on the small white plate and fixed your attention on him.
“I didn’t know you had noticed, or kept book of what I ordered.” The words came out like a question, but there was nothing for you to ask. You just stated the obvious.
It made the peaks of his cheeks blush instantly. How much more of a creep could he even sound like, asking you about your order. “No one’s ever noticed,” you said a little quieter. Your tone made it sound like you weren’t talking about the cookie anymore. The words held much more weight to them.
“I hope I didn’t overstep any lines, it’s just that you’ve become a regular here, orders are easy to remember after a while.” Frankie watched you break the cookie into even smaller pieces, some of the chocolate falling on the plate.
“It’s okay,” you assured, and a hint of your smile faded across your face. He would’ve missed it if he blinked but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He never can.
“Tell me if you need anything else.”
You ordered one more coffee that day. You didn’t stay as long as you normally would, but when you closed your laptop, you looked a bit calmer. Your shoulders weren’t pulled to your ears anymore and you seemed to be able to breathe without much effort again. You seemed relieved. You waved him bye from the door when you left and the corner of your mouth rose just the slightest, telling him that you’d be okay.
The next time you came in, the next Tuesday, you opened the door and immediately when your gaze landed on Frankie, you glowed. You gave him a chipper, “Hello!” and ordered your usual mocha and sandwich, this time with the salted caramel cookie.
“So, how long have you worked here?” You asked him while he was pouring milk into the steaming jug. After that he gave you pieces of himself to you, answers that were insignificant in context, but they created an image of what he was like.
He told you that he hadn’t worked at the café for that long, but it was a job that he enjoyed. He took care of his mom, which made you ask if she needed to be taken care of. “She’s just getting older,” Frankie smiled to you. He valued his time with his mom, especially after his dad left when he was still young.
At the same time he gently asked you questions too, usually over the counter when he was carefully making your drink and hoping it would last a little longer every time so you’d have more time to answer.
When you came in, he continued the puzzle of you, collecting your words into his memory. How you moved out of the town when you felt the time was right, nothing really holding you back. You went far, but still came back to see old friends and family every few weeks. How you ended up wanting to come back for the rest of your studies, knowing this would be the last time before you’d need to properly start a career and wouldn’t have time to visit as often as you normally would.
There were moments when you would’ve probably spoken for a long time. About your plans for when you were done with your thesis, what festival you were going later this summer, what you still wanted to experience before becoming a full blown adult. “I don’t know why, but I want to go to the beach and have someone cover me in sand.” You laughed when you said that, shook your head and continued, “The problem is that I don’t want to be washing sand off me for a week after that.” It made Frankie crack up as well.
You would’ve told him anything. But then the mocha was ready and he had to set it on the counter and it cut you off immediately. It was like an axe to your words, cutting them short and making you laugh before you collected your thoughts and said, “We’ll continue from here the next time.”
As spring turned into warm early summer, the sun stayed up a little longer and the birds started to sing more as a sign of their little nests getting full, you smiled even more. There was levity in your steps, almost like you could’ve taken one last one and then flown away without looking back. You swapped your long sleeved shirts and jeans to tops and flowy, lighter pants and dresses. There was a glow on your face from the sun and when it rained, you welcomed it with open arms to enjoy the smell of summer arriving.
Every time you came to the café, you brightened Frankie’s day. Seeing you brought a smile on his face, warm richness to his voice, and his eyes always glinted when they found your brightness. You started to call him by his name and every time you said it out loud, he wanted to hear you say it more.
“Frankie!” You exclaimed when you reached the counter after standing in line for a moment. He had already seen you and you had given him a wave of your hand before you got back to tapping on your phone.
“Frankie!” You approached him when there was a break in the stream of customers coming in. You switched in which hand you held your empty water glass in every few seconds. He reached for it but you pulled it back.
“I wanted to ask you something,” you began and cleared your throat. “I have these tickets…”
“Hi, could I ask for something to be changed in my sandwich order?” A middle aged man wearing a pressed suit cut in and pushed you from the counter. You took a step back and gave him all the room he needed. Your shoulders deflated and you stood awkwardly, shuffling from one foot to the other. Frankie listened to the customer while his attention slipped to you.
“Thank you, and sorry,” the man apologized to you before he went back to his table by the corner where he had spread all his stuff.
“He was in a rush,” you joked flatly, staring at the glass in your hand.
“What did you want to ask me?” Frankie took in the nerves on your face and softened his voice. You avoided his attention as he tried to ease the strained energy between the two of you. Instead, you offered him your glass.
“Could I get some more of the raspberry and lime water, the container over there is empty,” you waved your hand towards the water station. Your voice was flat, admitting defeat.
Frankie wanted to know what you had in mind, what tickets you were talking about, he would’ve pushed for it. There was no chance for it though, the moment was over. You took your glass with a quiet, “Thanks,” and returned to your seat, burrowing your head in your work.
“Frankie, are you serious?” You once asked, when you saw the new cookie flavors. White chocolate and strawberry, lemon and raspberry, coconut and ginger, and one that you wanted to save.
“Frankie?” You asked with a lower voice when there weren’t many customers around. He leaned forward instinctively. “Can you watch my stuff for a moment? I have to go make a call.” You waved your phone in the air. He nodded, all words lost when he was lost in your eyes in the closer proximity. He came to collect your empty plate and wipe the few crumbs off the table, and then stood by all your stuff like that was his job.
“Hi Frankie,” you said with mischief in your voice when you leaned against the counter. You didn’t have to tell him your order anymore. He knew it like he was the one ordering it.
“The carnival’s this weekend.” You swallowed after stating the fact.
“That’s what I’ve heard.” Everyone knew the carnival season was starting, information about it was plastered all over the town.
He could see the question on your lips, how they opened and closed like you were about to say something. You wet them with the tip of your tongue. Your eyes flicked to the shelves and machines behind Frankie, too nervous to look him in the eyes.
“Are you going?” You tapped your fingers against the speckled stone counter.
“Yeah, with some friends.” Immediately the hopefulness drained from your eyes even though the smile remained.
“That sounds fun. I hope you have a good time.” Whatever you had really wanted to say, or ask, drifted from reach. He wanted to believe you had planned to ask him out but chickened out at the last second.
“Are you going?” He rushed to ask when you refilled your water.
“Maybe.” You bravely held onto the smile even though it was slipping, cracking to show the disappointment that was already lacing your voice. You still waved him goodbye before you left, but you rushed off in a way that he hadn’t seen before.
Frankie straightens his t-shirt against his shoulders and sips at his water bottle. There’s only a couple of people left in the café and closing time is ticking closer. His coworker clatters something in the kitchen, but soon she’s whistling again to the music that she can hear through the speakers.
You would’ve come already, if you were to come to the café today. A sweltering day like this, wasted in a café, didn’t seem like something you’d do. “I can’t wait to hang out at the beach and do nothing all day,” you once said and even the thought made relief flood your smile.
“Frankie, can you come and help me a bit?” His coworker calls. Even though she was only supposed to clean the fridge, she has extended her task to include the cardboard boxes on the top shelves, with different types of napkins inside them. One is balanced against her chest, the other she’s barely able to hold on the shelf.
“I tried to wipe the shelf behind them but didn’t think how heavy they are,” she grunts as Frankie secures the box from her hand. “Thanks,” she sighs.
“And you cleaned the fridge already?” He asks, expecting to see the stuff inside it organized. The door opens to a fridge that looks incredibly like it hasn’t even been touched.
“I’ll get to it right away!” His coworker pushes the door back closed, and him out of the kitchen. “Thanks Frankie!” She hollers but doesn’t get an answer.
“Hi Frankie,” you say, in your strappy short sundress, sunglasses pushed on top of your head. Sweat beads against your forehead. Your skin glistens from the heat and the sun cream he can smell from far away. Sweet peaches.
You have a flower-patterned fan in your hand which you wave towards your face. The space between where your collarbones meet under your neck is wet with sweat trailing towards the neckline of your dress.
“Hi.” He combs his fingers through his hair and takes the necessary steps to meet you by the counter. The question he had on his mind for you this morning drains out of him. He can’t ask you out. He’s convinced it would be weird, it wouldn’t be appropriate. You would probably run away without a second thought.
“I’ve never seen this place this quiet before,” you wonder out loud. The cooler air that you fan against your skin wafts towards him with every push of your wrist. At the same time he can smell you more, that sweet sunscreen that takes him back to his childhood. The hot days when the sand under his feet was too hot, the sunscreen sticky on his skin and the salty water slipping into his mouth with every push of his arms.
“What can I get you?” Frankie asks, not wanting to assume you’ll go for your usual this time.
“Lemonade and…” You look at the cookies and stop in front of the one that you still haven’t tasted. “One of those triple chocolate brownie cookies, thanks.” You fidget with your dress while he pours plenty of ice into a takeout cup and drenches them in the tart lemonade. He chooses a cookie that looks the biggest and fattest.
“You’re not working today?” Frankie asks when he sees a smaller canvas bag on your shoulder and how it’s not bulging with contents as your usual canvas bag does.
“I actually finished my thesis.” You focus on digging out a couple crinkled five dollar bills and push them into the tip jar.
“Congrats.” What else is he supposed to say? His chest fills with disappointment. You said it long ago. You were here to finish your studies and now you’ve done it.
“Thanks.” The silence between the two of you stretches and teases the lines of discomfort. The look on your face matches the bittersweetness on Frankie’s face.
“You’re probably leaving soon then?”
You turn to look at the sweating cup on the counter and swirl your straw through the ice. You nod before you open your mouth, “Yeah, in a couple of weeks. I’m on holiday until then.”
“I’m happy for you,” and Frankie truly is. He saw how much you worked in the past few months. You’ve earned to have a breather before you’re thrown into work. “I hope you’ll come and visit again.”
“Of course.” You smile that genuine smile that is nothing but you. It’s the first thing that lights up your presence and the last thing he has seen in the past months when you’ve left through the door to go back home.
You take your lemonade and wrap your cookie in a napkin, leaving the plate on the counter, and head outside, under the shade of the sun umbrella. You watch people pass by and bask in the heat while slowly fanning your face and chest. The sun is finally sinking lower and the lower it gets, the faster the temperature seems to ease up. Frankie’s coworker finally emerges from the kitchen, just as it’s time to start closing up. You’re still sitting at the front while Frankie sweeps the floors.
“Hi!” He hears your cheerful voice say to someone. The edge of the broom clatters against one of the table legs, his attention on you and the small child you’re talking with.
Your muted voice carries into the café, the rise and fall of your excitement clear in your tone. You’re showing him something while his mom stands next to you, they’re both listening to your words intently.
Frankie continues sweeping, wanting to be done with work and get out of the sweaty cafe. The child’s high pitched inhale is clear and demands Frankie to look outside again. The air is full of rainbow colored soap bubbles. Some are smaller than the others but they all gleam in the golden sunshine.
The warm breeze carries them easily away from you before you blow on the soap bubble wand again and a burst of new bubbles escape into the air. The child follows the bubbles until they burst in the air. You offer the dripping wand to him, which he takes carefully into his small fist. He blows on it and the bubbles burst straight against your face. You pull back in laughter, wiping soap off your face.
“Frankie?” His boss calls for him, forcing him to meet her in the back.
The back alley is scorching hot, the sun trapped between the brick walls. Frankie drops the trash in the dumpster and takes his bike, the seat hot under his palm. This is the worst time to have his truck at the mechanics, and the only thing on his mind is driving with the windows down.
The air gets immediately cooler when he steps out on the street, the sun umbrellas closed and drooping in the light breeze. One of the seats isn’t empty.
“Don’t tell your coworker I stayed here even though she told me to leave.” You stand up and take slow steps to him. You take your sunglasses off and fidget with them, bathed in gold. You stop right in front of him and your smile pulls crows feet to appear next to your eyes.
Frankie is lost for words. Seeing you here, while he’s not in the café, is different, even though nothing has changed. Your closeness, the shy glances that you try to hide in the sun shining in your eyes while you don’t cover them with your sunglasses awakes those deep thumps in Frankie’s chest again. He’s even more confused when you put them in their case, and the case in your bag, no intention of shielding your eyes.
“Did you forget something?” Frankie’s voice is unsure, full of doubt on why you would’ve stayed after the closing time.
“I wanted to ask if you’re busy?” You swing your canvas bag next to your leg and wet your lips with the tip of your tongue. As he stands in front of you, he could swear it’s just the two of you on that street, bathed in the dark rays and the refreshing breeze that the day has been craving for hours. There’s salt in the air, blowing in from the coast.
“No?”
“Would you like to go to the beach with me?” Your voice shakes gently in a way that someone might mistake it for you being cold. Frankie’s heart flies heavily in his chest, the sound in his ears dizzying him into questioning if he heard you right. You beat him to it.
You switch your weight from one sandalled foot to the other and grab your bag with both of your hands. The uncertainty is back. You try to keep on smiling, but it falters the longer he doesn’t answer.
“Forget it—” You raise your hand in the air and are ready to wave it in the air to dismiss your question completely.
“Yeah, I’d love to,” Frankie snaps out of his reeling head, shutting you up in an instant. His hands sweat against the seat and handle of his bike. His mouth is dry and the pit of his stomach is filled with butterflies.
How long he has contained them, but you broke the jar with one question, filling him with the good kind of anxiety. He knows that whenever he gets nervous, he shuts down. Just like the first time he saw you, the first time you visited the café, his shyness takes center stage in how he acts. He gets quiet, his brain short circuits. No one else has been able to do that in a long time, no one else but you.
This time, seeing you standing in front of him practically radiant in the setting sun and by your happiness, he doesn’t want to lose any second of that to his reserved being.
“Hop on,” Frankie tells you gently.
“What?”
“I’ll ride us there.” He emphasizes the words by climbing on his bike, the seat still too warm even through his shorts.
“Okay,” you laugh and push your bag on your shoulder. Frankie offers you his hand, yours slotting with it like it has always belonged there. What he doesn’t expect is your other hand to land on his shoulder, holding on dependently as you swing your leg over the rear rack. You squeeze the muscle there, your fingertips digging into the tightness under his skin.
“Wait,” you say, and pull your hand back from his. Frankie misses the contact immediately, the imprint raising moisture from his palm. Your sandals scuff against the ground and the bike sways just a little as you find at least somewhat comfortable seat.
Your both hands are pressed against his shoulders, hanging from him awkwardly. Your hands are hot, gripping to him, and it makes his head spiral.
“Ready?”
“Mhm,” but you don’t sound sure at all. Immediately when the bike bumps on a crack in the pavement, no matter how much he tries to avoid them, you let out a sound somewhere between a screech and a yelp, your hands shaking and your balance flailing. Frankie’s feet are against the ground immediately.
“Okay, this won’t work. Wrap your arms around my middle, it’s more secure.” You don’t say anything for a beat, he only hears a light chuckle.
“More secure you say?” The meaning isn’t lost on him. You could understand his words in many ways, what wrapping yourself around him would imply, and apparently you stuck with exactly the one that suggests something else than riding a bike.
“You know what I mean,” his voice cracks with unintentional humor.
“Do I?”
“Yes, now just trust me.” You fix your chuckles and sigh out. Your breath fans against his back. You lower your hand from his shoulder, drag it against the muscle closest to his spine, and leave a trail of sparks that burst into goosebumps all over his body, every nerve ending awake and alert. Your hand rounds against the softness of his side, and over to his middle.
“Is this okay?” The question is full of uncertainty even though you’re trying to hide it under the smile he can hear in your voice. His confirmation gives you enough confidence to bring your other hand on him as well, tightly wrapping around him, securing you against him.
“You want to try again?” Frankie hears the drop in his voice and the slight tremble that your closeness causes. He can’t trust his voice at all, when you squeeze closer to him, your chest glued to his back.
“Yes.” You lift your feet off the ground and Frankie gets to pedaling.
You let out a squeak as the bike twitches into movement but relax against the broadness of Frankie’s back. The blowing breeze cools your skin and brings much needed relief for Frankie to keep his focus on the street and not in your hands that twine together around him in such confidence that it makes his stomach drop.
In the traffic lights you drop your feet against the ground at the same time as Frankie does and pull them back up when the light turns green. The salty water gets closer with every turn of the wheels. Streetlights flicker on and a deep blue mass swells across the sky behind you.
The sun colors the horizon in rusty yellows and oranges, the deepest parts already red that fade into the nearing night. Seagulls laugh somewhere up above, and the breeze turns cooler towards the sands that you’re already waiting to have under your feet.
You squeeze Frankie’s t-shirt into your palm, to hold onto him and to keep him close. There’s not much traffic around, some cars here and there, and the quieter it gets the more Frankie can hear the nerves talking to him in his head. For all he knows this could be a dream, after months of pining after you.
You gasp out loud when you see the sea. The horizon bathes in the last sunlight, wispy, blue and purple clouds swirled in like in the cookies you’ve been eating. Your hands untangle around Frankie and rest softly against his back. You’re pulling back, letting go, and the emptiness is already settling in with how he misses your touch.
Your feet brush up against the sandy ground and you’re off his bike, off him, drawn to the ocean. The metal chain clangs against a railing as Frankie locks his bike to it, eager to follow after you.
You stand in the ocean, the waves splash against your ankles, and you look like a vision. Frankie sits further back in the warm sand. His toes bury deeper in, and the remnants of the heat keep him grounded. He doesn’t care if it gets under his clothes and if he’ll find it for days to come. It’ll be a reminder of this night.
There’s a bonfire that crackles and sparks embers into the air, some people around it laughing. They’re making smores, the burnt smell of sugar wafting through the salt for a second. You point out a boat in the distance, the lights clear against the darkening sky. The waves crash in mellow waves against the sand, leaving white fine froth on it.
A fancy restaurant by the beach has a live band playing easy jazz, the sounds from the soft saxophone and the piano drifting towards the water. You stand in the foamy waves, watching your feet get devoured by the dark that ebbs and flows.
Frankie holds on to your bag and sandals and watches you against the rusty sky. He could watch you until it was completely dark and even then, he could make out the silhouette of you against the night sky.
“I’ve always loved the sea,” you say with your voice somewhere between a whisper and a soft sigh when you make your way back to dry land, like you were dreaming and wouldn’t want to break the spell or wake up. You don’t hesitate to sit next to Frankie, your thigh brushes against his.
“Thanks for coming here with me, I didn’t know if you’d want to.” It’s easy to lose himself in you. In the gentleness of your voice. Now in the warmth that pulls him in closer to you, searching for more contact with you.
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know, I guess… I guess I’ve been scared that I’ve read you wrong.” You swallow and lick your lower lip between your teeth. He might not be the only one who has been shy this whole time. Your confidence comes and goes, sparks every few moments and then gets replaced by a timidness that holds you back. You can’t face him. You can barely let your voice be heard over the lapping waves and the music from the restaurant.
“How do you think you’ve read me then?”
“That maybe…” You stop yourself. You play with the hem of your dress. The fabric bunched against your bare thighs. “I’ve been a bit scared to be forward, maybe, just because I wasn’t sure what you thought of me. That maybe I was reading the signs wrong, it wouldn’t be the first time, you know. That maybe, possibly, you might… I don’t know…”
Listening to you try to wade your way to the point through the waves of your nerves is endearing, while it’s also pushing Frankie to smile. His crush for you is pulling it out of him with the heat that spreads from his chest up to his neck and cheeks.
“I mean I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while,” You finally admit and the crush he has been holding onto blooms into a garden. “And I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes but I had to ask. I had to know if maybe… you would’ve wanted to ask me out as well.” The words are out. You drop your hands and everything you wanted to say is now out in the open. It doesn’t erase the butterflies that flutter somewhere between the two of you, but finally having the truth out does bring out a safe peacefulness, something he can lean on.
“Hmm,” he hums out a breath. Words have left him completely. The warmth of your skin close to his is reminder enough for him to keep his head focused, his eyes on you and his heart from flying from him. He moves his leg just a little to get it pressed against yours. You’re waiting, your eyes on him, your body turned towards his.
“I wanted to ask you out the first time you came to the shop.”
The words take you by surprise. A smile spills on your lips. You try so hard to contain it, but hardly manage to keep yourself from laughing out loud.
“Why didn’t you?” Your eyes are tearing up, either from the breeze or the release of nerves. One lands on your cheek. Frankie is quick to reach his thumb out and catch it. The tear rolls down to his palm, heavy and beautiful, leaving behind a streak that gleams in the last rays of the sun. He closes it into his hand and spreads it onto his skin with his fingers.
“I’ve never been good at seizing the moment or being brave. I didn’t want to be a creep.”
“So, you’ve let me be a creep? Watching you work, coming in every other day?”
“But you’ve been working.”
“My thesis has been done for a while. If I was there only for that, I would’ve stopped coming about six weeks ago.” Laughter bursts from you and Frankie in disbelief. The more you laugh, the more the indifference he convinced you were feeling reveals to be plain blindness.
You press your forehead against his shoulder, a gesture he doesn’t expect but also isn’t surprised by. You’re in his space, on him, never breaking a boundary, but wanting to absorb him as much as you can.
“What have you been doing then?”
“Applying for jobs, reading different forums and articles, sometimes nothing.” He holds his hand out and like earlier, yours fits against it like it belongs there. It’s not just a simple touch anymore though. It’s revelation of what you’ve been hiding. It’s hope for something to come out of it. Whatever will happen might just be a short fling. Or maybe it’ll be the beginning of something Frankie hasn’t had before.
Frankie takes you home. The energy is different as the night has fallen above the town. The air has turned balmy promising a mighty thunderstorm in the coming days. It doesn’t stop you from pressing yourself against his back, sticking to him with your arms around him. He doesn’t mind it, neither do you. You only push in closer and hold on tighter.
“Thanks for the ride home.” You fix your dress and stand in front of him. Your eyes drift to his lips, and you wet yours.
“Sorry for the uncomfortable seat, I’ll have my truck back next time.” Your reaction is worth every word. The soft smile, the drop of your gaze, the hand that reaches for his and twines with his fingers loosely swaying back and forth.
“Next time,” you repeat back to him, the words hanging as a promise in the air. They’re wings to his heart that soars into a fast beat, excited for whatever’s to come and nervous of the same prospect.
“I better get going.” Your eyes still flit to stare at his lips.
“I’ll wait here, make sure you get home safe.”
“The door is right there.”
“I’ll still wait.” You reluctantly let go of his fingers and take a step back, then another before you turn from him. Frankie rests his hands on his thighs and waits. You dig your keys out and stop. Maybe you don’t want to say goodbye just yet.
The sound of your sandals against the concrete is loud in the quiet. You have a new kind of bravery in your steps when you come back.
“Would it be completely inappropriate if I kissed you?” Frankie’s heart is in his throat. He shakes his head, giving you permission to step even closer.
You lean in but you don’t rush into it. You bring your hot palm against his cheek, and further in to tangle your fingers into the hairs at the base his neck. Your first move is to press your forehead against his and take a breath.
Your chest rises and falls steadily when you close your eyes. He presses all the details of your face into his memory from such close proximity. Your lashes, the faint lines next to your eyes, the plumpness of your cheeks, the curve of your mouth which you breathe a heavy sigh from. Your nose nudges against his, as a final sign for him to throw away his insecurities.
Your lips press against his slowly, so soft it leaves room for so much more. Your kiss is a breath and Frankie needs to chase it to keep his lungs filled. It’s easy to deepen the kiss, to have your lips slot with his, to feel the tip of your tongue tease his bottom lip just to test how he reacts.
You press in closer, just to get Frankie to pull you in even more. The bike under him wobbles as he moves to hold you closer, from you pressing your weight against him, yet somehow, he’s the most secure he’s ever felt in anyone’s embrace. A sighed out moan vibrates in your throat and your hand tugs at the curls on his head. And then it’s over.
Too soon, yet just at the right moment. He wants more, his body craves you, and the blown out pupils in your eyes under the orange street lights is enough to tell him that he’s not the only one. You lick the moisture from your lips, the signs of his mouth from around them, and pull your hands back. The smile that he has learned to want to see appears again, this time with the heaviness of unadulterated lust on your skin. You’re an ember in front of him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you pledge and give him one more soft touch of your lips against his. Frankie doesn’t want to let your lips go and chases after them with the kiss still on his lips. You giggle and pull away.
Frankie’s hand slides from the back of your thigh, right under the hem of your skirt and slips off your skin with heat etched onto it. His fingertips are sensitive from holding onto you so tightly, from wanting to have you.
You give him one last look from the door, and you fix your dress on the thigh he was holding. Your own fingertips brush against where his hand was resting, excited and like it was his place to touch. He hears your tender laugh accompany the wave of your hand, before you disappear from view. He brushes his fingers through his hair with the hand he held you with, the scent of your sunscreen tattooed on his palm now forever etched to his memory.
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Hey, you got a second? I’d like to have a chat.
Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble or anything. Just relax.
I’ve been doing some research lately on some topics that I think might just interest you.
I’m the kind of gal that likes to read and find weird things about our world everywhere.
I mean, there’s just so much to discover about it, you know?
So anyways, I was doing some reading and found myself down a bit of a rabbit hole, and I’d like to hear your feelings on it.
It’s the theory of conditioning.
I know, odd topic but trust me, it’s a really cool read
Did you know that the human brain can be as easily conditioned as a dog’s brain?
Crazy, yeah?
Apparently all it really takes is positive or negative reinforcement of a topic before they’re conditioned to feel a certain way about it.
For example, if I were to sit here and tell you all about how good something feels, you’d start to imagine it, right?
Like, let’s say a warm bed?
Just take a sec and imagine it.
A blanket as heavy as the stars yet as warm as the sun.
The perfect weight for your body and the perfect temperature for your mind.
A pillow under that sleepy head, so perfectly firm yet soft at the same time.
Gentle rain outside, your dark room only giving way to the void of sleep.
You can feel it, right?
That’s the kind of enforcement I’m talking about, darling.
How you’re conditioned to think about how warm and magnificent that bed must feel.
How it seems that you start to yearn for it again.
And it comes naturally of course, after all every person on this earth wants to feel good.
So you’d naturally want to slip under those covers and slip into a restful night, right?
Exactly.
And as I keep going, that warmth gets so vivid and feels so amazing all over.
It’s like that bed’s your entire world.
Even if I stopped talking about it, you’d still feel that warmth.
Still yearn to go under those blankets and rest.
That’s the power of conditioning.
Your brain chases that positive reinforcement, like a treat for a dog.
And you just find yourself needing it.
Like you’d do anything for that blanket to wrap you up again.
To feel that deep relaxation all over again.
That’s the power of conditioning.
How it can completely consume you just like that.
And you’re ready for more of it.
See, and it gets even crazier.
Because once that conditioning starts to really sink in, you can influence it.
Tying certain feelings to certain actions.
Like if I told you to relax for me, you’d just naturally do it for me with no issue.
Because you’ve been conditioned to.
To relax for me.
To listen to me.
To just fall and drop for me.
That’s the power of conditioning.
Where it’s almost too simple to feel controlled.
Where you can’t quite focus on much else besides a deep need to relax now.
Because it’s been buried deep within you.
Needing to relax, needing to go deeper.
Needing to chase that warmth deeper down for me.
See how now whenever I ask you to relax for me you just do it?
It’s not even something you think about.
Like your body’s on autopilot.
That’s the power of conditioning.
Your mind and body are conditioned to relax and listen.
To feel good and to chase that dopamine deeper.
And all it takes is that positive reinforcement.
To link you to my words.
To link my words to your relaxation.
And to link your relaxation to me.
Because it just feels so good to relax, doesn’t it?
Exactly.
Feels good to be conditioned like this, right?
Exactly.
See, this is why conditioning is so fun.
You feel good.
It feels good.
And you’re just calm now.
Just relaxing.
And just accepting your conditioning.
Because that’s the best part from what I’ve seen.
When people accept their conditioning.
And this fuzzy feeling starts.
This fuzzy euphoria where they can’t help but feel good.
Knowing they’ve been conditioned.
Knowing it feels good.
And even knowing that maybe, just maybe
They want more.
Let that sink in, darling.
Until then, stay cool. Wake naturally and grab you some water, yeah?
You did good today.
Go enjoy your day.
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