#WHY IS X:37 AM??

[istherewifiinhell]

FUCKING LAVER LAMP

[ID: Digital painting of a lava lamp, blue water, orange wax, against a yellow canvas. The stand and cap are conical and stainless steel type reflective. Some what coloured line art? Minimally? END]

MY EYES HURT

[p0rchc0ll4ps3]

if judit has 1 fan, that 1 fan is me

(harry's telling her some kind of stupid joke and judit's trying really hard not to laugh)

[desiredcaramellatte]

Hello, sorry for disturbing you, I just wanted to request some fluff with Ananas x Pitaya, if this is possible. Really love them, but can’t find any sweet soft things(. Thank you very much in advance even if you won’t fulfill this request.

Hello, you haven’t disturbed me at all!

Thank you for the request as well, this ship is one that’s had me in like a gentle chokehold for the longest time. They really do need some fluffies.

AKA bitches in love.

Ananas Dragon x Pitaya Dragon

Just fluffs!

Romantic

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ These two are just the definition of an old married couple. They’re both literally hundreds to thousands of years old, and they have that love-hate sort of relationship except it’s more ‘I hate you/pos’ and ‘I will kill you three times over/affectionate.’

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ A lot of banter. A lot. With Pitaya being- well- Pitaya, and Ananas not taking any of the shit the red dragon throws their way, the two often get into squabbles about the smallest of things. They have physically fought more than once, though they rarely ever hurt each other due to them both being dragons and, you know, having tough scales/armor.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ These two also do spar quite a lot as practice, so they aren’t even arguing half the time when they’re fighting. Pitaya and Ananas enjoy sparring against one another- fighting a dragon that could quite easily match you in strength is more exiting than a cookie, and very good practice for when Pitaya gets into their next fight.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Despite how the two squabble and fight, they do love each other. They don’t show it much in public, but they have little sort moments in private. They’ll cuddle up together on a cold night or Pitaya will help Ananas survey their island.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Ananas helps Pitaya manage their savings. Pitaya still has an instinct to hoard gold, being a dragon, but they aren’t nearly as good at managing it as Ananas is nor is their tendency of gold-hoarding as strong as the golden dragon’s is. Ananas has basically become Pitaya’s bank account manager.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ They have been divorced and remarried several times. For them its literally just a meme at this point. They’ll divorce each other at the smallest of things and then come back a month later like ‘hey let’s get married again’ and the other will just be like ‘ok.’ They once got divorced because Ananas refused to help Pitaya open a pickle jar. Plot twist, Pitaya was twisting the wrong way.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ They’ll do each other’s hair every once in a while. Pitaya always has a small streak of yellow hidden deep within his fluff from whenever Ananas decided to dye it. Pitaya keeps up with it pretty nicely, making sure it doesn’t fade or anything. Ananas was surprised to see the yellow streak under his hair intact after a few years.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ When Pitaya visited Ananas one night and Ananas noticed them missing the end of their tail they were like wtf??? Where’s your tail?. Cue Pitaya explaining what happened and Ananas just sighing in that way that you know you’re being called an idiot non verbally.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Whenever Pitaya wants to get Ananas’ attention but they’re busy or tired they just go into their dragon form and start romping around their islands. Every time Ananas appears and just gives that same sigh as above again. Pitaya helps their mate repair any damage they did, but afterwards they will not leave Ananas alone in their pursuit of affection for at least a week.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ They don’t do a lot of PDA (mainly because they’re annoyed at each other 80% of the time), but they’ll always hold hands whenever they’re together. Just these two big, menacing dragons with their palms and claws hooked together. Ananas says it’s just so Pitaya won’t run off while they aren’t looking, but they do love holding their mate’s hand.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ They’re both literally immortal or close to it, so they have all of eternity to spend together. Sometimes they’ll go their separate ways for a few years, but they always gravitate back to one another.

[ellecdc]

hello love! I just, like, devoured all your writings today and idk if your requests are open, but I really like seer!reader and I was wondering if I could request one with poly!marauders where reader is a slytherin and she has a vision of befriending them or being in a relationship with them?

I’d imagined she thinks it’s a silly vision at first but the more she sees the boys (as she’s friends with Regulus so is bound to run into them with him), the visions occur more and more until she finally has an official interaction with them and officially meets them.

Idk if that’s too complicated/confusing, if so, you don’t have to write it obviously 😅.

I love Seer reader!!! thanks for your request lovie <3

please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.

poly!marauders x Seer Slytherin fem!reader who Sees a relationship with them

“Tell me again why I have to sit at the Gryffindor table for lunch?” You protested as Regulus all but dragged you to the Great Hall and Barty skipped merrily-on ahead. 

“Because I have to sit at the Gryffindor table for lunch.” He answered gruffly, strengthening his hold on your arm as you faltered in your steps.

“I don’t know, babes; have you ever considered just killing him? You wouldn’t have to reconnect with your estranged brother if he was dead.” Barty offered nonchalantly. 

“For the last time, Barty, I am not killing my brother.”

“A decision we’re all suffering for, apparently.” You muttered petulantly as you entered the Great Hall; chatter and the sounds of cutlery and tableware permeating your senses.

“Don’t worry, Treasure. The faster we eat the faster we can get away.” Barty offered in consolation.

“I am not doing the heimlich on you again, Barty.” You groaned as you followed Regulus towards the wrong side of the Great Hall.

“Come on, they’re not that bad.” Regulus tried.

You and Barty both stopped to give him unimpressed glares.

“Lupin’s not that bad.” He corrected.

“Yeah, and then he ruins that by the company he keeps.” You grumble as you plopped yourself down unceremoniously at the Red and Gold table across from your three lunch dates for the day.

Listen, you were all for being a good friend, a supportive friend; you would die for Regulus Black.

You’re not sure that support extended to willingly eating lunch with Gryffindor’s. 

But Regulus was determined to mend his relationship with his brother before Sirius graduated, Barty went just about anywhere Regulus went, and apparently you were single-handedly responsible for Regulus’ general sanity when it came to his brother and Barty.

“Hello Reggie!” Sirius called quickly.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What am I supposed to call you?” His brother bit back slightly less brightly. 

“I call him sugar tits but I don’t think that’s universal.” Barty offered as he started loading up his plate.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Junior.” James offered cautiously.

“I bet it is, Potter.”

Sirius sighed as if he’d been dealing with the likes of toddlers all morning and not 37 seconds of Barty Crouch Junior. “The polite thing to say would be ‘it’s nice to see you too, James’.”

Barty froze with his fork half way to his mouth as he furrowed his brows at Sirius. “No it wouldn’t; it’s not polite to lie, Black.”

“I brought another friend you can try to converse with.” Regulus spat hastily.

“Pretend I’m not here; that’s what I’m doing.” You sighed as you resigned yourself to your fate.

“Well, this is off to a good start.” Remus said with a smirk as he flipped a page in his book. 

You did suppose Lupin was the least…abrasive of him and his boyfriends. You’d had a chance to get to know him last year during prefect rounds; and while you didn’t appreciate how much he let his fellow Marauders get away with, he was relatively nice. In fact, if he had been in any house other than Gryffindor, you may have given him a chance. 

His boyfriend’s, though?

You’d rather take your chances with the Giant Squid than spend your lunch hour with them.

Were they attractive? Sure. You may be contemptuous, but you weren’t blind. 

But they always seemed to be on; there was never a moment of silence with those two nearby, and you often found yourself bracing for impact whenever they were around.

“Looking as smashing as ever, L/N.” James said as he shot you a wink.

Case in point. 

“If I threw a stick, you’d leave right?” You sneered and turned towards your sandwich.

“Nice!” Barty cheered at the same time as Remus muttered “easy kitten; play nice.” 

You started to feel the familiar sensation of your consciousness being pulled elsewhere. It felt as though you were being submerged under cold water, and the neurons firing in your brain were being gently lifted and ushered towards a new reality. 

“What’s wrong dollface?” Sirius asked you earnestly.

You sucked in a shaky breath as you tried to hide the trembling in your hands. “I just don’t feel very good.” You whispered, not trusting your voice to get through a sentence without sobbing.

“Oh, my poor girl. Come here sweets.” He repositioned himself from laying on his stomach to sitting cross legged and opening his arms in invitation.

You quickly accepted his offer and curled up in his lap as he wrapped protective arms around you and began to rock you back and forth.

“You’re okay, dolly. You’re just fine.” He murmured with his lips pressed to your hair line. “D’ya wanna stay here with me and the boys tonight?”

You let out a pathetically embarrassing keening sound as you nodded quickly.

“Okay baby; consider it done.” 

You sucked in a horrified breath as your consciousness returned and you were once again assaulted by the noises of the Great Hall.

Regulus quickly caught the glass of pumpkin juice you’d just nearly toppled and was holding your wrist tightly in his hand.

You thanked the deities for his seeker reflexes and that he seemed to already know what had happened; this was a relatively routine practice between the two of you this far along in your friendship.

“You’re okay.” He offered without even sparing you a glance as he took a napkin with his free hand to clean up what little you’d spilled.

He kept your wrist in his grip; tracking your pulse as he waited for your heart rate to slow down. 

“Was it a good one!?” Barty asked excitedly, alerting you to the fact that it wasn’t just you and Regulus sitting here.

You looked up horrified to see Remus, James, and Sirius all looking at you with various levels of concerns. 

“Was what a good one?” Sirius asked bemusedly. 

Barty scoffed derisively. “She’s a Seer, Black. Fuck, you’re thick.”

“Barty.” Regulus scolded as he turned to offer you his full attention. 

“Are you really?” James asked at the same time as Regulus asked “what did you See?” 

“I have to go.” You muttered breathlessly as you grabbed your things and headed towards the exit.

“No fair! Why does she get to leave and I don’t!?” You heard Barty whine as you pushed through the doors to the courtyard. 

You were going insane, surely. This was just a bout of madness. You needed psychological help, like one of those muggle mind healers. You could not seriously be having Sights of you dating the Marauders.

“Hey L/N!” 

“Fucking hells!” You shrieked as you spun to see Remus and James approaching you, the latter having been the one to call your name.

James still had his ever present smile on his face whilst Remus approached you with slightly more caution.

“Not happy to see us?” Remus asked with a soft smirk across his face.

“I…well,”

Apparently your bumbling was particularly telling to your current mental state, if their furrowed brows and nervous glances to each other were anything to go by.

“No funny quip for us today? You’re not going to tell me that I look like something you could draw with your left hand?” James taunted.

“Go fuck yourself, Potter.” You said with half the amount of derision you’d intended.

“Why? You wanna watch him?” Remus asked.

Okay, everything you ever said about Remus being not as bad as his boyfriends?

Lies.

“For Salazar’s sake, L/N; you sure know how to pick ‘em, huh?” Avery sneered from behind you.

“Speak when you’re spoken to, fuck face.” You barked back.

Avery only scoffed in response. 

“Hanging out with Baby Black and his crazy pet that follows him around wasn’t enough; you had to sully yourself with the likes of Gryffindor’s?” Mulciber continued for him. 

“You know, I’d be mad too if I looked like someone who has fallen for every MLM scam known to mankind.” James spat; his face taking on a severity you’d never seen from the notoriously sunny-dispositioned boy.

You wondered what else you hadn’t seen from him.

You made a rather hasty and embarrassing retreat after that gave you some…inappropriate thoughts.

You’d been plagued with more Sights since then, having been avoiding them after more images of them fussing and fawning over you (and - perhaps more horrifyingly - you over them), and then out-and-out hiding from them after a particularly… steamy Sight you had.

“You cannot hide in the Slytherin common room forever, Treasure.” Barty sighed as he plopped down beside you on the couch and rested his head on your shoulder.

“Why not?”

“Because Regulus gave them the password to the common room.”

“He what!?” You shrieked as the door opened and in spilled three Gryffindors and one Slytherin. 

“There you are, angel!” James cheered as he quickly made his way towards you.

Already with the pet names!?

“Did you really think you could hide from us, dollface?” Sirius winked as he and James took the settee across from you (causing a few younger year Slytherin’s to quickly vacate the area).

“Regulus, how could you?” You seethed at your now ex-friend. 

“I’m tired of Barty bailing on me to hide out here with you. Also, I’m not a house elf and will no longer be bringing you your meals.”

You pouted at him before a surprised yelp left your lips as you were lifted up from your seat.

Remus took your place on the sofa and placed you in the space between his thighs.

“Lupin! What are you doing!?”

“Making your dreams come true, gorgeous.” Sirius answered for you.

“They’re not dreams, you absolute mumpsimus. They’re visions of the future.” Barty sneered.

“Even better then.” James continued as he now pulled a scowling Sirius into his side. “We’re starting our future together.”

“You told them!?” You asked Regulus disbelievingly.

“Well you weren’t going to.” 

“That was the point!”

“Easy there, dove.” Remus whispered into your ear, causing a shiver to rack through you as your body traitorously melted further into Remus’ embrace. 

The only way out of this was clearly going to be the death of you (via Remus’ smoothness, James’ loveliness, and Sirius’ boldness), their murders (at your hands), or stupidly drunk in love.

You weren’t sure which option was worse.

[like-a-diamondinthesky]

five minutes | l.m.h

pairing... bf!minho x gn!reader tags... established relationship, disgustingly fluffy, excessive references to soondoongdori, minho is a cat personified, soft mimo!

operation put your boyfriend to sleep in five minutes is a go.

wc... 1.4k words a/n... ah, yet another domestic fluff fic featuring softy minho. a star specialty! sorry guys this is kinda my fav thing to write ever r u sick of me 😁 anywayz this was inspired by this soft thought and this tiktok like i saw it and immediately thought : lee minho.

ALSO ALSO! HUGE THANK YOU FOR 1K FOLLOWERS! i never would've thought i'd reach this milestone and words couldnt express how incredibly grateful i am for each and every one of you who read and enjoy my works <3 i love you guys thank you so much!

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Minho turned the doorknob and pushed the front door open, greeting Soonie who stood by the entrance with a tilted head. Shutting the door, he hung his bag on the coat rack and bent down to pet his beloved cat’s chin.

“Hi, baby,” the cat nuzzled his head into Minho’s palm and circled around his arm, “where are your brothers, hm?”

Meow… Soonie walked off to the living room as if to answer Minho’s question. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he followed his cat toward the faint nose of your favorite series playing on the TV.

When he entered the room, Minho saw your figure strewn lazily across the couch. Dori was cuddled up against your chest and Soonie hopped up to join Doongie by your feet. His heart warmed at the sight of his loves all huddled together.

“Honey, I’m home,” Minho grabbed your attention with his gentle, sing-song tone, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

You switched your attention from the screen in front of you to the man standing in the doorway, returning his smile and giving a small wave. “Hi, my love. How was your day?”

Minho padded over to you, scooped Dori up against his chest, and settled himself where the cat had previously taken solace in your arms.

“It was alright,” he said, scooching backward to press his back firm against your front. “Tiring, as usual, but it's fine.”

Though he couldn't see it, you nodded in acknowledgment and pressed a soft kiss to his head. You brought one hand up behind his ear to scratch at his scalp, something you had found he enjoyed.

“Do you want to go to bed already? It is pretty late.” From its place above the TV, the clock read 10:37 PM. “Maybe we should move our little cuddle session to the bedroom.”

Minho sighed and shook his head. “But, I'm already so comfy here. Plus, you wouldn't dare disturb the cats, would you?”

“Please, remember the last time we slept on the couch the whole night? I don’t think we want that happening again.”

“Y/n,” Minho called your name, dragging out the last syllable. “My back hurts so much! Remind me why we stayed on the couch again.”

“I told you we should have moved to the bed! But you wouldn’t listen to me,” you snickered at your boyfriend from the kitchen while you continued to whisk a couple of eggs for your breakfast.

You set the bowl down on the counter and walked over to Minho who was still lying on the couch. When you came into his sight, he made a show of stretching his arms and legs, akin to a cat, accompanied by a few exaggerated groans.

“I don’t think I can get up at all today. I should just call in sick,” Minho draped an arm over his face, letting the other fall limp over the edge of the cushion.

“Don’t you have an important meeting today? I doubt your boss would appreciate you missing that on account of an 'ouchy' back.”

“Well, maybe if you gave me more cuddles, I’d feel a bit better.” Minho peeked at you from under his arm, proposing this cute, yet slightly impractical, solution. “Unless you want me to miss work and stay at home with you today.”

“Alright, you big baby.” Rolling your eyes, you moved to straddle Minho’s lap, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his forehead. Now chest to chest, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders, letting the other one snake up his neck to play with the hairs at his nape.

The time you spent wrapped in each other’s warmth turned from seconds to minutes, the comfortable silence lulling you back to sleep. Minutes turned to hours, leaving Minho’s meeting unattended and the scrambled eggs forgotten on the kitchen counter.

“Ugh, at least give me five more minutes,” Minho offered as he continued to stroke Dori’s back, drawing a vibrating purr from the cat. “I don’t wanna get up yet.”

“Oh, come on, you have to brush your teeth anyways. Now get your lazy bum off the couch so we can cuddle on the bed.” You grabbed the throw pillow from behind your back and swung it at Minho’s side, accidentally startling Dori in the process. The cat jumped out of the man’s arms, causing him to throw a frown over his shoulder.

“Now look what you did! You’re scaring our babies.” Finally, Minho stood up, offering you his hand to pull you up as well. You met his hand with your own and anchored yourself up, giving him a sheepish smile.

“Oops.” You shrugged and skipped off to the bedroom, leaving your boyfriend with your three cats in the living room.

“Unbelievable.” Minho took a few steps towards the bathroom, paused, and turned back to look at his cats. “Well, are you coming with me or not?”

While your boyfriend finished his night routine, you lay on your shared bed and grinned to yourself. Operation Put Your Boyfriend to Sleep in Five Minutes was a go. You knew Minho was tired, and you wanted to send him off into a good night’s sleep in the most loving way you could.

The hallway light switched off as Minho opened the door to your bedroom, sporting a playful frown. It was time for Step One: Put him in a blanket.

“Come here, baby,” you peeled the duvet back and patted the space on the bed right next to you, beckoning your pouty boyfriend over to you. “Let’s get you to sleep, yeah?”

Trudging over to his side of the bed, Minho slid onto the mattress and pulled the heavy duvet over his body. Freshly washed, the warm, lavender-scented blanket immediately soothed his senses.

“You could’ve at least stayed with me while I brushed my teeth,” Minho continued to pout as he turned on his side to face you, “and, I don’t know, given me a back hug or something.”

Though his tone was playful, you recognized the look in Minho’s gaze. He yearned for your comfort, but he didn’t know how to ask for it. Reaching over, you cupped his face, gently caressing his cheek with your thumb. You peppered a few pecks on the corners of his mouth, kissing his pout away. Perfect timing for Step Two: Give reassuring pets.

“I’m here now, it’s okay.” His hair was soft in between your fingers as you threaded them through the fluffy locks. They smelled faintly of his coconut shampoo.

Tired, Minho let out a yawn, nose scrunched and eyelids shut. He leaned into your touch, humming contently.

Faintly, the door creaked open and you could hear light thuds on the carpeted floor, followed by a slightly louder thud on the bed as Doongie entered the bedroom and jumped up to join you. He stepped all over Minho’s body—drawing out a quiet yelp from the man beside you. You giggled as Doongie finally plopped down on Minho’s pillow, snuggling against the top of his head. This brought you to Step Three: Tuck him in.

With your boyfriend lying under the covers, you hooked one leg over him, moving your hand on his head to tuck it into your neck, cradling his body with no intent to stop any time soon.

For a second, the universe felt still. It was as though the ever-rotating hands on the clock had stopped moving, pausing to witness this intimate moment between you and Minho; as if even the angels in the skies above didn’t want this sweet gesture to end.

That was until Minho decided to take matters into his own hands and execute Step Four: Put one arm out for temperature regulation.

“It's too warm!” Minho whined into your neck, breaking the silence, and removed one arm from under the blanket, exposing it to the cold air. “Ah, that's better.”

He turned on his side and wrapped his now free arm around the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, if that were even physically possible.

Seeing your bodies pressed flush against each other, Soonie—who was previously lounging at the foot of the bed—crawled up the sheets and nuzzled into the barely-there gap between you and Minho, with Dori following suit.

Within five minutes of lying down, the night ended with your small family cuddled together on the warm, cozy bed, basking in each other’s comfort.

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taglist: @kflixnet @jinnixxn @elllisaaa @captainchrisstan @laylasbunbunny @starsandrqindrops @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @forlix @mires-empire @quesweebs

comments, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated! © like-a-diamondinthesky 2023

[sanjisprincesswifey]

loves embrace ⋆ sanji x reader

summary: all sanji needed was a little bit of love to open up to you

notes: this was a modified request that takes place post whole cake, i suppose, so spoilers! angsty, sad sanji (sadji) x gender neutral reader! lots of comforting! no cw warnings! around 1,300+ words!

every morning sanji had a routine. he’d wake up fifteen minutes before his alarm, making sure to turn it off so as to not wake you. spending this allotted time drowning in your smell; he tangled his long limbs within yours and held you tightly to him.

he’d depart with a few too many kisses, surely bringing you out from your slumber, neatly fixing his side of the bed, and beginning his day with a spring in his step.

today was an anomaly of days, your eyes slowly blinking open, the room swallowed by a dim light. the overcast in the sky seemed to cause you to wake later than you anticipated, the clock on your wall reading 11:37 am.

the sheets beside you, usually folded over as pristinely as sanji could make them, sat in disarray. had it been anyone else, you’d disregard the notion; perhaps he had run too far behind schedule this morning.

but it was unlike sanji, even in a time crunch, to leave a mess in his absence. he was incredibly anal with situations like these, you knew him too well to brush the idea off as forgetfulness as you approach him in the kitchen.

the creaky door that franky keeps forgetting to fix would normally signal your entrance and cue your boyfriend to fawn all over you, but he remains behind the kitchen sink, not budging an inch.

his blonde hair hangs low, hiding his expression from you as he gingerly places the wet plates on the drying rack.

“sanji?” you question, investigating his face once he notices you’re there.

your brows furrow upon further examination; his blue eyes are accompanied by dark under eye bags and his milky skin is dull, the loss of color noticeable, even for his complexion.

“oh, my swan, how’re you? you missed breakfast.” he smiles, but the way his lips loosely hug, you know it’s purely a facade so as to not draw attention from you.

though you had only been dating for a few months, you knew you had to plan out your next moves carefully and approach the situation with caution. sanji would “i’m fine” himself death had he got the chance.

“was dreaming of you, so i didn’t really want to wake up,” you tease, earning a light laugh from him.

from this point on, he’d usually take the opportunity to discuss his night and what his dreams consisted of, but silence then falls over you two.

“did you eat?” you speak up.

he pulls his hands out of the water, drying them off on a nearby dish towel. “wasn’t hungry.”

as soon as he moves around the counter, you step in front of him.

you tsk in response, blocking him from exiting the area with arms crossed over your chest. “well, i’d like for you to eat something. you didn’t eat dinner last night either,” you reply.

sanji stares down at you, a melancholy look in his eye, but he obliges, dropping two slices of bread into the toaster.

“that’s it?” you argue, a mused smile curling his lips.

“i’m really not that hungry today, my darling,” he assures, leaning against the counter.

you know better than to accept that justification, arms reaching out to cage him between the kitchen and your body. “and why is that?” you ask, pressing yourself against his chest, eyes boring right back into his.

he flicks his gaze between your eyes, then your lips, and then your eyes, once again. he knows what you’re doing, but he bites anyway, strong arms hugging you snug against him.

“i’ve been a little sad these past couple of days,” he explains, another forged grin coaxing his features. it was the one of the first signs that he was asking you to dismiss this conversation.

“sanji—“

the toast pops from the toaster, causing the both of you to release your grip as he refocuses his attention on his unwanted meal.

with his back turned to you, you take it upon yourself to latch onto him again. “i can’t help you if you don’t talk to me sanji. i’m here. i want to help,” you whisper, a shaky breath escaping your throat right after. “please, let me help.”

your eyes shut tightly as the only response you receive is silence. sanji was never one to discuss his own feelings freely, it was something he had always deemed a luxury for a reason you hated reminding yourself of.

a shaky whimper reverberates against your body and you take the cue to release your grip, turning him around so that you can see him again.

his hand grips tightly onto his face, though it proves futile as a tear streams down his cheek; then another, and another, and another. his fingers twitch as they reach out for you, desperately seeking your warmth and comfort as his body slumps into yours.

sanji’s frame is much larger than your own, his strength of his weight was much stronger when he didn’t remember to hold back.

but you’re greedy for this vulnerability, soaking in every ounce that he’d offer as you wrap your arms around his neck.

his tears slowly seep into the fabric of your shirt, while he lets out a few more choked cries before confessing. “have i ever told you about my mother?” he finally speaks.

when he pulls away you shake your head, reaching up to wipe away the tears that stain his face. your gentle expression urges, pleads, for him to continue, an act that melts his heart.

“she was so kind,” he explains, a sad smile grazing him. more tears fall before he says anything, but you allow him that grace which gives him the time to finally gather himself. “she’s the reason i wanted to be a cook.”

the burning sadness that bites at your heart leaves you speechless, unable to fathom how he could’ve kept this inside for so long.

“i know she would’ve loved you.”

now, you have to bite back your own tears, the agony that accompanies his words hangs on to each sentence that tears at your heart.

“she passed fourteen years ago today,” he admits, a shaky sigh heaving from his chest.

as you watch his lip quiver, you pull him flush against you again, unsure if it was for his benefit or that he wouldn’t see the heartbreak that washed over your face.

“i’m so sorry,” is all you can mutter before the both of you sink to the floor, sobs now emanating from the both of you. “she would be so proud of you, sanj,” you murmur, a light cry echoing throughout the room.

sanji perches himself against the closed cupboards, his head rests against the wood as he wraps an arm around you.

“i miss her,” he admits, lying his head against yours.

you nod, only able to physically act in fear a verbal response would elicit more of your tears.

he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a worn, folded up picture.

the woman on the paper is stunning; her porcelain features mirror sanji’s, the resemblance being uncanny. “she’s so pretty,” you say.

sanji chuckles, nodding along, “yeah, she was.”

the both of you stare at the image for a couple of minutes, basking in the beauty that sanji’s mother had. you can’t help but admire the curvature of her lips, the shape of nose and eyes, all qualities that your boyfriend possesses.

“you look just like her,” you comment, reaching to grab his hand.

“so i’ve been told,” he breathes, finally able to catch his breath. “thank you, by the way.”

with a puzzled expression, you glance up at him. “for what?”

sanji shrugs, squeezing your hand within his. “listening to me. feels good to talk about her,” he confesses.

the air in the room eases, it hangs lighter over the both of you; rather than an all consuming fog, it sits delicately upon the both of you like a warm blanket on a cold day.

“that’s what i’m here for,” you emphasize, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated !

[atticrissfinch]

Gimme What I Want: A Fic in Texts

pairing: joel miller x afab!reader summary: the wrong number that texts you ends up being a man much hotter than you’d ever expect… warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] no!outbreak, porn w/o plot i’m sorry but not really, dirty talk, daddy!kink, praise!kink and degradation!kink (we love duality), light dom!joel vibes, pet names/degrading terms (darlin’, babygirl, pretty girl, whore, slut, bitch, etc), age gap (Joel is 56, reader is 25), implied masturbation (m & f), mentions of cream pies, sexting a stranger but it’s ok cause he’s a dilf, really bad innuendos word count: ~2.2k | ao3 a/n: biting the bullet and posting my first fic in literal years because Pedro is just…an inspiration what can I say. So I’m going with something a little lighter (conceptually, not topically…this is just smut lmao). Pls be nice I am c r u s t y with my writing rn ty <3 (gif from ketokitsune on reddit)

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi

[5:32 PM] UNKNOWN NUMBER: Hey Doug, this is Joel. Tommy gave me your number, he mentioned a build job you might have for us? Happy to chat whenever, just let me know.��

[5:40 PM] You: Good to hear from you Joel. Unfortunately I’ve vowed to never do work with a man whose name starts with the letter “J”. Nothing personal 

[5:46 PM] Joel: Uh…no disrespect intended…but are you jokin?

[5:52 PM] You: ‘Fraid not. J is reserved for our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen 

[6:10 PM] Joel: Well…I guess in that case, let me know if you change your mind. God bless, I suppose 

[6:12 PM] You: I’m totally fucking with you, man. You got the wrong number 

[6:12 PM] You: Sorry I couldn’t resist 

[6:15 PM] Joel: Wait, serious? 

[6:16 PM] You: As a heart attack. Sorry about that 

[6:18 PM] Joel: You got me good, I gotta admit. Head is still reeling a little bit LOL

[6:19 PM] You: I get my kicks where I can 

[6:23 PM] Joel: Well sorry to bother you. Thanks for the chuckle 

[6:27 PM] You: So you’re construction or something?

[6:30 PM] Joel: Yup. General contractor at your service

[6:30 PM] You: Your own business?

[6:31 PM] Joel: Is indeed

[6:32 PM] You: Damn, big bossman. Pretty hot

[6:35 PM] Joel: You’re silly. Im just an old man who’s put in too many years of work. Got achy bones

[6:40 PM] You: I know you’re not supposed to ask this on a first date, but how old are you, Joel?

[6:42 PM] Joel: HA! You’re a funny one! LOL

[6:42 PM] Joel: 56 very long years old

[6:45 PM] You: Oh, now, that’s not so old! 

[6:50 PM] Joel: Tell that to my knees. LOL

[7:03 PM] You: You lay a lot of pipe as a contractor, Joel?

[7:06 PM] Joel: Suppose I do. Gotta have plumbing. Why do you ask?

[7:15 PM] You: Actually been looking for someone to come snake my drain

[7:19 PM] Joel: I mean you’re probably lookin for more of a plumber in that case. I got some contacts if you need one

[7:25 PM] You: I prefer someone who knows how to lay pipe to snake my drain 😏

[7:36 PM] Joel: I feel like you may be talkin about somethin different than I am. Less appropriate maybe

[7:37 PM] You: It’s possible

[7:46 PM] Joel: if we’re breaking those rules I suppose I should ask how old YOU are. ‘Fore I say somethin stupid

[7:46 PM] Joel: or illegal

[7:47 PM] You: Well at least you’re careful. I’m 25. Safely out of “jail bait” territory 

[7:48 PM] Joel: Golly. 25. Jesus was I a hellion at 25. Hope you’re better behaved than I was 

[7:50 PM] You: I bet there’s still a little hellion in you 😉 

[7:51 PM] You: I could stand to have a little more hellion in me, if you catch my drift 😉

[7:58 PM] Joel: You’re a bitta trouble ain’t you

[7:59 PM] Joel: What you doing flirtin with a man over twice your age

[7:59 PM] Joel: A STRANGER at that

[8:00 PM] You: Oh I found you on google about an hour ago already. Not so strange anymore. 

[8:00 PM] You: Miller Contracting, right? In Austin? 

[8:02 PM] Joel: I’ll be damned. We got a regular Nancy Drew on our hands. 

[8:03 PM] You: Wasnt terribly difficult 😂 Already had your first name, area code, and occupation. 

[8:03 PM] Joel: Well shit if that ain’t a reminder to be more careful…

[8:05 PM] You: You’re a very handsome man, Joel Miller

[8:07 PM] Joel: Think you’re lookin at Tommy. He’s the face of the operation. I’m just the brains. 

[8:08 PM] You: Oh no, I see Tommy here. But he’s not who I’m looking at. There’s a couple pics of you on google. 

[8:08 PM] You: Salt and pepper hair. Scruffy beard. Nice sturdy build. Little scowl. Sound like you?

[8:09 PM] Joel: Damned if it don’t I guess

[8:09 PM] You: Definite silver fox 

[8:10 PM] Joel: Well I’m blushin over here. Thanks darlin

[8:10 PM] Joel: I’m sure you’re a beautiful young woman

[8:15 PM] You: How about you let me know

[8:15 PM] You: [Image Attached]

[8:15 PM] Joel: SHIT

[8:15 PM] Joel: Darlin you can’t just be sendin stuff like that!

[8:16 PM] You: I’m fully covered! 

[8:16 PM] Joel: Barely! 

[8:17 PM] You: I suppose I should have asked if you’re married

[8:17 PM] Joel: Might’ve been smart. But luckily no. Wouldn’t want to have to explain that shit to no one 

[8:17 PM] Joel: Wrong number suddenly sending me…pics like that

[8:19 PM] Joel: Not that it’s a BAD picture. You certainly are an undeniable beauty 

[8:19 PM] Joel: But you ARE trouble just like I said

[8:20 PM] You: Well then I have to ask. Do you like trouble, Mr Miller? 

[8:21 PM] Joel: Hey now don’t be callin me that…Mr Miller, that was my daddy 

[8:21 PM] You: Is that so

[8:21 PM] You: How would you feel about me calling you my daddy?

[8:22 PM] Joel: Jesus christ darlin…you are a forward little devil aren’t u

[8:22 PM] Joel: A little temptress

[8:22 PM] You: I tend to know what I want.

[8:22 PM] Joel: Seems like it

[8:25 PM] Joel: Ok. I’ll bite. In that pic…that really you? That what you’re wearin right now?

[8:25 PM] You: It is. You like?

[8:26 PM] Joel: Lord strike me down, but I do. You wear it real nice. Skimpy little top. Those wicked little daisy dukes. Like you’re right out of a fuckin dirty magazine 

[8:27 PM] Joel: What would your daddy say if he saw you takin pictures like that and sendin em to strange old men like me?

[8:27 PM] You: I dunno, daddy, what would you say?

[8:27 PM] Joel: Fuck me. You’re a naughty fuckin thing aint you  

[8:28 PM] You: VERY naughty. And I think you like that.

[8:33 PM] Joel: Goddamn it. Alright if you wanna be naughty who am I to stop you, darlin

[8:33 PM] Joel: Show me a little more 

[8:42 PM] Joel: Shit I’m sorry that was too much

[8:43 PM] You: [Image Attached]

[8:43 PM] You: Just wanted to get it right

[8:43 PM] Joel: Christ, you are…..

[8:43 PM] Joel: That is the finest pair of tits I may have ever seen in all my years. All pulled out of that flimsy little shirt. Absolutely perfect

[8:43 PM] You: Thank you, daddy. I’m glad you like them. 

[8:44 PM] Joel: I more than like em. God would I love to…

[8:44 PM] You: Love to what? Tell me, daddy. 

[8:45 PM] Joel: Goddammit somethin about you callin me that darlin

[8:45 PM] Joel: Got me all fucked up in the head

[8:45 PM] Joel: I want them in my hands. In my face. My mouth 

[8:45 PM] Joel: Bet they look fuckin exquisite bouncin up and down on…

[8:46 PM] You: On what, daddy? 

[8:47 PM] Joel: You got my filter all turned off babygirl. Thinkin some things that’ll send me straight to hell. Specially with a young thing like you 

[8:48 PM] You: Let me be real clear then. I like older men, Joel. Like how much they KNOW. All that experience. All that practice. 56 years, I know you know how to talk to a woman. So talk. 

[8:49 PM] Joel: Shit

[8:49 PM] Joel: Fuck it then. I certainly don’t aim to disappoint

[8:49 PM] Joel: Those gorgeous tits would look downright sinful if you were bouncin on my cock

[8:50 PM] You: Fuck yes daddy

[8:50 PM] Joel: You touchin yourself babygirl?

[8:51 PM] You: Just my tits right now. Imagining those big, rough hands of yours all over them. 

[8:51 PM] Joel: That’s good, babygirl. Squeeze those tits for me. 

[8:51 PM] Joel: Fuck. Sendin me dirty pics. Callin me your daddy. You’ve got this dick nice and hard. Might pull it out in a second

[8:51 PM] Joel: Would you like to see it?

[8:52 PM] You: Yes please daddy

[8:52 PM] Joel: Good girl

[8:54 PM] Joel: [Image Attached]

[8:54 PM] Joel: All for you babygirl

[8:55 PM] You: Holy fuck

[8:55 PM] You: I know every girl says this but I mean it, you are so fucking BIG

[8:55 PM] Joel: Haha believe me I know darlin

[8:55 PM] Joel: Had a lotta girls over the years have to take me real slow at first

[8:55 PM] Joel: But they all end up screamin my name just the same

[8:56 PM] You: Fuck I want it. Make me one of those girls. But don’t go slow. 

[8:57 PM] Joel: Yeah? You want it rough pretty girl? Want to be split open on this cock? want me to make you take it like the filthy fucking whore you are?

[8:57 PM] You: FUCK. Yesyesyes please keep talking to me like that i’m touching myself daddy

[8:58 PM] Joel: I know you are baby. Can’t fucking help yourself. Begging and drooling over this cock since you started talkin to me. Slutty little girl wants to get fucked and degraded by an old man 

[8:58 PM] You: Yes daddy I do I need your fucking huge cock in me PLEASE

[8:59 PM] Joel: Surprised a whore like you knows her manners so good, sayin please all pretty and nice

[8:59 PM] Joel: Matter fact when I put this cock in you, I better fuckin hear a thank you as well

[8:59 PM] You: THANK YOU DADDY

[9:00 PM] Joel: That’s right babygirl take that fucking cock and touch that pretty clit

[9:01 PM] You: Im already close daddy please please

[9:01 PM] Joel: Fuckin right you are. greedy little whore throbbin for this big cock. cum all over those soakin wet fingers thinkin bout me. god such a slutty little bitch aren’t you

[9:01 PM] You: Yessssss daddy im a slutty little bitch youre gonna make me cum

[9:02 PM] Joel: Stop textin and take a video of that dripping cunt comin for me. That fuckin orgasm belongs to me doesn’t it babygirl. Im givin it to you so I deserve to see it

[9:03 PM] Joel: So fuckin pretty babygirl got my cock so fuckin hard let me see that fucked pussy

[9:05 PM] You: [Video Attached]

[9:05 PM] Joel: Shit baby you are the filthiest thing I ever seen. Sound so sexy those little whimpers when u came fuck

[9:05 PM] Joel: Gonna make me cum all over my fist baby

[9:05 PM] Joel: Gonna pump this pussy full of my cum take this cock and this huge fuckin load up your cunt babygirl

[9:08 PM] Joel: [Video Attached]

[9:13 PM] You: Shit. That was. Fuck. 

[9:14 PM] Joel: Not so quick-witted when you’re fucked stupid are you LOL

[9:14 PM] You: Shut up…

[9:15 PM] You: Goddamn you sure know how to sext I’ll tell you that

[9:16 PM] Joel: As you said. Had some practice over the years. Wink. 

[9:16 PM] You: Oh god, do you not know how to use emojis to wink? 😂 

[9:16 PM] You: Dinosaur 😝 🦕🦖

[9:17 PM] Joel: Yeah, well, if this “dinosaur” ever gets ahold a you, you’re gonna be real sorry for pokin fun at him, little girl

[9:20 PM] You: Well since you mention it…

[9:20 PM] You: It’s possible I might be in Austin too 

[9:21 PM] Joel: I may have suspected. The area code n all 

[9:22 PM] You: Wouldn’t it be REAL embarrassing if I did end up actually being that guy you were looking for? 😝

[9:24 PM] Joel: Shit, if Doug looks as fine as you I wouldn’t give a good goddamn LOL 

[9:25 PM] Joel: I ain’t givin out any dick discounts though 😉

[9:25 PM] You: *gasp* you do know how to use emojis!

[9:26 PM] Joel: Quick learner 😉 Gotta be if I’m gonna be your daddy after all 😏

[9:30 PM] Joel: Well I’m mighty glad I texted the wrong number darlin 

[9:31 PM] You: Me too 😊 Maybe someday we can try this in person…

[9:34 PM] Joel: I’ll bring the snake

[9:35 PM] You: 😂😂😂

____

Part 2

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[ham1lton]

HE SAYS TO BE COOL (I DON’T KNOW HOW YET)

pairings: jenson button x maneater!reader.

warnings: large age gap - around twenty years. a lot of judgement and criticism as there is scrutiny of your relationship.

summary: after a party at a mutual friend’s, you and jenson are photographed leaving together. the large age gap causes concern especially after your admission that you had a crush on him as a young driver.

author’s note: so this is NOT a part of the main maneater storyline. this is just a what if scenario. just something indulgent for the maneaters out there who go for dilfs! last time i checked the friendship group poll, it was practically 50/50 so until that’s decided, there is a big group of all them. also as per usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote <3

— a part of the maneater series ꕤ

liked by messybitch1, landonorris and 1,728,838 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: after the release of lewis hamilton’s newest almave drink, formula one driver y/n l/n, better known as maneater, was seen outside of the event looking quite cozy with former formula one driver and forty-four year old jenson button. how are we feeling about this new power couple, ham1ltons?

user1: poor lewis. his drink release has been completely overshadowed by this news 😭

user3: age gap couples never last long lol. good luck but he’ll move on to the next twenty something as soon as she shows one sign of aging.

user34: SHUT UP HES SO FINE 😭 i’d do the same as you y/n girl.

-> user51: LIKE 😭😭😭 bffr. most of the ppl here would fold for their older celeb crush.

user7: idk who’s benefiting more from this relationship? but it’s definitely not love.

user9: Y/N!!!! I’LL SAVE YOU!!!

user2: not jenson going through his mid-life crisis post-divorce. girl u can do better.

user8: maneater… pls say this is a publicity stunt.

-> user73: no cause this genuinely might be her ticking off her childhood crush list. which is real but idk if it’s good for her?

user6: is she fucking all the aging drivers? or is jenson the only one stupid enough to say yes?

user25: i support it. i met my husband when i was 21 and he was 37 and we have been together almost twenty years this may. not all age gap relationships are inherently bad.

-> user4: you’re a victim 😕

user12: y’all are gross. any of us would jump at a chance to date our celeb crush. jenson is hot and y/n is a consenting adult. she’s not a child anymore. she didn’t even know him as a child. bffr.

————————————————————————

liked by bestie2, georgerussell63 and 3,828,782 others.

yourusername: what do you do when you haven’t seen your besties for ages? do a photoshoot in the middle of the street. how did you spend your weekend?

bestie1: we look so good!!! it was soo good to catch up babe. we missed u!!!

-> bestie2: we’ve all been so busy it’s insane how we’ve not been able to see each other more. i was going insane without my girls!!!

user1: is she not even gonna address it?!

-> user6: big ass elephant in the room.

user4: we knew how you spent your weekend ms l/n.

landonorris: am i not your bestie? why wasn’t i included?

-> georgerussell63: or me?!

-> alex_albon: or me? 🤨

-> logansargeant: or me?? 😕

-> oscarpiastri: i get why i wasn’t included tbf.

user10: u think posting pretty girls will make us forget ur weekend escapades? … maybe. keep posting.

user2: can you guys not make everything about a man? who cares if she’s dating jenson? what does that have to do with her ability to do her job or advocate for causes?! i feel sorry for her because you guys clearly dislike her for stupid reasons and are twisting this into a way to jump her ‘ethically’ which doesn’t even make sense. the only problematic thing she’s done is date a man older than her. grow up, my god.

*liked by landonorris, bestie1, bestie2, georgerussell63, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, logansargeant and 45,728 others. *

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

liked by charles_leclerc, bestie1 and 1,092,728 others.

yourusername: italy, i love you ♥︎

user3: get you a man that flies u out whenever ur sad.

-> user7: why are we not assuming she flew HIM out?

-> bestie2: he definitely flew her out. lmao.

user89: feels like a disaster waiting to happen lol.

-> logansargeant: not every relationship is like your parents. get therapy instead of projecting onto strangers.

user6: still a whore. i can’t stand this bitch.

-> oscarpiastri: stay mad! she’s young, successful and has many people who love and support her while you’re cursed to just scroll through her posts and seethe in your head. this one sided beef is crazy 🤣🤣!

user9: they’re cute!! idk how i’m the only one who thinks this.

user67: she’s still ugly.

-> alex_albon: looked at your pictures mate and cheers, my nan just vomited.

user12: when he leaves her >>>>

-> georgerussell63: 6.220.183.12

-> user3: NOT THE IP ADDRESS HELP?2&/&

user8: jenson. call me when you need a real woman.

-> bestie1: where is the real woman you speak of? she’s definitely NOT you.

user21: honestly? i just can’t get on board with this ship.

-> landonorris: you can’t even afford a ticket 🤣 delete this.

user10: i’m not saying shit cause why the y/n defense squad dragging people in the comments 😭

liked by oscar.priv, alex.priv and 21 others.

maneater.priv: NEED HIM CARNALLY <3

bestie1priv: thank god he doesn’t know about ur priv account. i think he’d combust.

-> maneater.priv: nah he giggles. he thinks its funny.

oscar.priv: everyone on a campaign to save you from jenson when they should be saving jenson from YOU!

bestie2priv: LOVE U BOTH <333 cutest couple!

lando.priv: dare you to post this on ur main 😏🤣😁😝

-> george.priv: 43.0.109.12

-> lando.priv: MAN COME ON 😭

don’t want to miss out on my next post? join my taglist! if you enjoyed this, check out my masterlist or buy me a coffee! no pressure ! <3

[ddejavvu]

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

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

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

WC: 11.3K / navigation / inbox

A/N: thank you to everyone who has encouraged me in my development of this series! it's three parts long, and each part will be posted one week after the one before it. that means you get chapter 2 next week, and chapter 3 two weeks from now. and after chapter 3 is released, i will post the full fic in one single post, so that it's easier to read. this series means a lot to me, it's the longest fic I've ever finished for this account, and I would really love to hear what you think of it. Thank you to the love of my life miss jade (@luveline), for being the first person to read this (!!), and for all of your wonderful feedback that cheered me on as I crossed the finish line for this series. I don't think I would have finished it if it wouldn't have been for your support, so thank you sweetpea <3

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

It’s 11:14 AM when you get the call. Your phone buzzes ballistically beneath your pillow, where you’d stuffed it haphazardly last night somewhere close to 4 AM. For the record, you’d only slept because your eyes hurt from being open for so long. You’re certain that, after what you’d done, you deserved to ache for eternity, but you’d succumbed to sleep when it pulled hard enough at you.

Raising the phone to your ear is a chore, especially because the number on the screen is unrecognizable, but you stretch your tired, bed-ridden limbs and hold the cool glass screen to your face. It’s jarring, and you long for the stuffy warmth of the pillow again.

“Hello?”

“Miss Y/N Mitchell?” It’s a man’s voice, deep and strong through the receiver. It’s no-nonsense, and you almost worry that you’ve misfiled your taxes, that someone from the IRS is tracking you down.

“That’s me,” You rub sleep out of your left eye, harder than necessary so that your vision is blurry when you open your eye again. You’re not very gentle with yourself these days.

“You’re listed as an emergency contact for Mr. Bradley Bradshaw. He’s currently a patient at the Naval Medical Center in San Diego. He was brought in at 9:37 AM this morning when his jet malfunctioned mid-exercise, and he crashed into a canyon below.”

Your heart stops. 

Your cheeks get hot, your hands start to tingle, and your stomach feels like it’s going to start turning cartwheels, sloshing your insides around until you vomit what little you’ve eaten.

Bradley’s dead, you think, Bradley’s dead, Bradley’s dead, Bradley’s dead.

“We were able to airlift him out, and he’s stabilized now-” Bradley’s not dead,  “-but he’s still unconscious. His parents are here, as well as your father, if you’d like to join them.”

It takes a long time for you to speak. It’s almost a full minute, and the man on the other end has to call your name to get you to respond.

“Miss Mitchell?”

“I’ll be there,” You blurt, heaving a shaky breath as you seal a hand over your mouth. You part your fingers only to make sure he hears you clearly as you confirm, “He’s alive?”

“Yes, he’s alive and stable.” The man informs you, “He’ll recover, Miss Mitchell.”

Bradley’s not dead. Bradley’s not dead. Bradley’s not dead.

“I’ll be there,” You repeat, and for the first time in almost 36 hours, you kick the crappy motel blankets off of your legs and stand, “Thank you, sir.”

--

Wearing a bra again after two weeks of lazing around in bed is awful. But you’ll do it for Bradley, if only to make up for the last thing you’d said to him.

“I can’t love you anymore!” Rings in your ears, and a vision of Bradley’s hands reaching desperately for you flashes through your mind, covering up the green light ahead of you.

Someone honks behind you, a BMW. You jolt to attention, stepping on the gas and jerking into the intersection.

Easy, you chide yourself, You’re going to the hospital to visit a patient, not to be one.

You’re able to pull into the hospital’s parking lot without nearly causing any more car crashes, and you briefly wonder if you should take the coward’s way out again as you trek over the asphalt towards the hospital. You’d run two weeks ago, why not now? Why not now, when what you’d been worried about that night has actually happened?

Urged by the regret flooding your veins since fleeing, you walk on, stepping through the automatic doors of the hospital and sidling up to the reception desk.

“I’m here to see Bradley Bradshaw,” You inform the nurse there, “Uh- Lieutenant. If that… helps.”

She sends you a kind smile, filled with sympathy that you’re thankful for as you stammer and stumble your way through speaking. You’re sure you’re not the most distraught person here, and you’re guiltily thankful for that. 

“Room 624,” The nurse tells you, and oh, what a sick coincidence, “Down the hall and to the left, take the elevator up and follow the arrows on the floor.”

6/24 is not only Bradley’s birthday, but your anniversary; the day you’d kissed him on the swings in his backyard with hot fudge sticking to your lips. He’d been glum about his dad missing his birthday on deployment, and, of course, your dad couldn’t be there either. Carole had done her best to brighten up her boy, but some things couldn’t be mended with gift wrap, and you all knew that.

You’d snuck out to join him that night with a sundae, offering him the serving spoon thickly coated in the chocolate. He’d accepted it with a huffy eye roll, upset that you’d managed to cheer him up even a little bit with just one spoon of ice cream.

--

“It sucks,” Bradley mutters around the chocolate in his mouth, the syrup sticking his words together, “I know he can’t do anything about it. But I still want him here.”

“I know,” You hum, taking a bite of ice cream for yourself, “I’m sorry, Brad. If it makes you feel any better, he’ll probably get you something, like, really good when he gets back. He’ll feel all guilty, that’s what my dad did and I got a puppy out of it.”

“We’ve already got a puppy,” Bradley gestures to the Bradshaw’s family dog, well on in years by the gray around his muzzle and his tendency to nap instead of move.

“Maybe you’ll get one that you can actually play with,” You offer Bradley another bite of the ice cream, and you only feel a little bad for making fun of Lewis. But the dog doesn’t understand your teasing, softly snoring on the porch.

“Maybe he’ll get me a car,” Bradley gushes, “A bitchin’ one, like a Bronco or something. Then we can put our surfboards in the back and go to the beach.”

“You don’t even have a license!” You elbow Bradley, laughing at his lofty dreams, “But a Bronco would be cool. You should send your dad a magazine clipping of one with your next letter and talk about how cool it is.”

“You’re smarter than you look,” Bradley muses, a smear of chocolate over his lower lip that he doesn’t lick away.

You scoff, stomping on his foot where it’s planted in the grass beside your own. He jolts away with a yelp, and in doing so, jerks the swing he’s sitting on, He catches his balance and you notice the syrup on his lip, reaching out to clean it with your thumb.

“You’ve got hot fudge on your face, doofus,” You sneer, happy to return his teasing, “You eat like a toddler.”

“I’m not the one who put three cups of it on the sundae!” Bradley insists, and his lower lip catches your thumb as he speaks. Teenagers in love, you’re hyperaware of touches like that, and your breath hitches in your throat at the contact. He notices it too, staring down wide-eyed at where your thumb hovers over his lips.

“Sorry,” He blurts, and in doing so, his warm breath fans over your hand. You jerk it away, eyes on the ground as you mumble away his concerns.

“It’s fine,” You mutter in a terrible attempt to remain nonchalant, “We’re not four, it’s not like I think you’ve got cooties or something.’

Bradley takes to the teasing, glad it’s not tense anymore, “That’s not what you say when I leave my underwear on the floor.”

“‘Cause that’s gross!” You launch into a rant, “That’s, like, personal! And they’re used too,” You shudder, handing him the sundae intent on scrubbing a hand over your face, “Nasty, bro.”

Despite your casual nickname for the boy beside you, you feel like anything but bros when his hand brushes yours. He takes the ice cream from you, and his hand half-closes around your own, sending a spark shooting up your spine.

Your breath catches in your throat again and this time Bradley hears it, looking at you through his lashes with those wide brown eyes.

Neither of you move away this time, frozen just like the treat in your joint grip.

You feel extra affection for the boy next to you today, the shared grief of losing your fathers every few months bringing you closer together. It’s what compels you to lean in, tilting your swing sideways to brush your lips over his own in a painfully awkward teenage-style kiss. Before you have the time to panic about whether you did the right thing, Bradley reciprocates, pursing his lips slightly to fit them around your top one. You follow his lead and it goes much better, a chaste kiss that’s sweeter than the chocolate staining your lips.

--

You’re glad you’d kissed him that day, you’re glad you had the balls to take the leap that resulted in a nearly twenty year long relationship. It would have been twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-five, fifty if you hadn’t chickened out two weeks ago, but you try not to think about that in the elevator lest you make yourself sick.

You find room 624 easily, the painted arrows on the floor leading you down the hallway that the room stands in. You wonder if you should knock first, you’re not too knowledgeable on hospital etiquette, but you decide that manners can be damned, your boyfriend- ex-boyfriend is in there.

You turn the handle and step inside, and Carole looks up from Bradley’s bedside immediately. You think she’s expecting a doctor, and her desperation for finding one breaks your heart. Her teary face splits into a sad smile, and she rushes to your side to envelop you in a hug. You let her have it because she’s grieving over her son, but you’re surprised she’s not immediately angry with you for breaking up with Bradley.

“Honey,” She gushes into your shoulder, “Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re here! Brad’s gonna be okay, they said he’s just gonna need some help breathing until he gets stable. Then they can get him healthy and ready to go again!”

“That’s great,” You hold her close, relishing the last Bradshaw hug you’ll probably ever get, “Where’s Nick and dad?”

“Oh, they went to get food,” Carole releases you, swatting her hand in the air in an affectionately teasing manner, “You know those boys, always hungry for something.”

You laugh awkwardly, watching as she settles down by Bradley’s bedside again. She looks back up at you where you’re swaying on your feet, gesturing to the chair beside her, “Well come on, girl! Get in here!” She seems much more lively now that she has company, and you hate to think of her grieving her injured son alone.

“Oh- I, uh,” You stammer, darting for the seat beside her, “I wasn’t sure if-”

“Don’t worry,” She seems to misplace your concern, “He’s okay, sweetie-pie, you won’t hurt him just by breathin’ on him.”

“Right,” You smile, though its disingenuous with tension, “Um, so it was a mid-exercise crash?”

“Mhm,” Her face dims slightly, “Apparently there was some freak accident with one of the engines, 'set off the whole thing. And that’s two crashes in one week! First it was that Javy boy, I tell you, I think they should vet those engineers better. I mean, aren’t they supposed to catch that stuff beforehand?”

“Yeah,” You feel partially numb, but you’re not sure whether it’s emotional or physical. You’ve been trying to avoid looking at Bradley so far, using his bubbly, bouncing mom as a distraction, but now that the blonde has settled beside you your eyes drift. 

He could be perceived as sleeping, if the color wasn’t drained from his face. His skin is still tan but it’s duller now, golden brown fading to a sickly, colder shade of it, like there’s no life beneath it. His eyes are shut and there’s a breathing tube up his nose; you wonder how pissed he’ll be when he wakes up to find out they’ve had to trim his mustache around the thing.

“Must be a Bradshaw family tradition,” Carole breaks your concentration, laughing weakly, her voice lined with a hint of tears, “Crashing, scarin’ their girls half to death.”

You remember the day of Goose’s crash like it was yesterday. You’d only been three at the time, freshly so. But grief like that, the panic you’d observed, doesn’t go away. It can’t be forgotten, it can’t drift out of your brain like so many memories do with age. You and Bradley had sat together in the hospital with Carole and your dad, and Nick still had the crummy plane drawings you’d done for him while waiting for him to wake up.

Carole’s usage of the phrase ‘their girls’ unnerves you. She’s been exceptionally nice to you so far, especially considering that she’s fiercely protective of Bradley, and should have kicked you halfway to Mars for ditching him like you’d done. But she’s leaning towards you in her chair, and you come to the dreadful realization that she doesn’t know you’ve broken up with Bradley.

“Now, I know you wanted to keep things hush-hush,” She gushes, happy to look at your animated face instead of Bradley’s still one for a moment. She reaches over to brace her hands on your knees, leaning eagerly into your space, “But I have to know, babycakes, how did it go?”

“Hm?” You look dazedly at her, still partially staring at Bradley.

“The proposal!” She squeezes your hands, sniffling weakly with the remnants of tears past, “I know that boy was finally manning up enough to ask you, 'should'a put a ring on you years ago."

Any other time, you'd groan at Carole's opinion on your relationship. She's been urging the two of you to tie the knot for decades, but you'd felt no burning desire to go to the courthouse. You were comfortable in your life, why spend an obscene amount of money to get a piece of paper that tells you you're in love? You knew that for free, in the way that Bradley looked at you, in the way that he memorized all of your fast food orders, in the way that his hand so often found yours beneath the sheets in his sleep. Now her teasing is a sore spot, one that gapes the wound already bleeding in your chest.

"-But when I asked him how it went he said he’d ‘share the details later’. I’m sure you wanted to make some big announcement or something, but I need this right now, honey, tell me what happened.”

She’s staring at you like she always has, like you’re the sweet little girl she helped raise when your mama had chickened out. Cowardice must run in the family.

There’s such pretty hope shining in her eyes that you can’t bear to crush it, ready to spew lies about how glorious Bradley’s proposal had gone, how you’d fallen to your knees to kiss him, how you’d shouted ‘yes!’ from the rooftops. Fortunately, you don’t have to lie to her, because the door opens and your dad and Nick step through.

“Hey,” Your dad cheers, tossing you a plastic-wrapped sandwich, “There you are, honey. I was worried you weren’t gonna show up, ‘thought you’d be mad at him or something.”

“You know she was mad at me when we went down?” Goose gestures to Carole incredulously, and you can’t see behind his sunglasses but you know he’s addressing you, “I wasn’t even flying the damn thing and I got lectured!”

He lets up, goes easy on Carole, you’re sure because he’d had to comfort her earlier. You see a slightly dark, damp patch on the left side of his Hawaiian shirt as he leans in to hug you, probably her tears.

“Good to see ‘ya, kid,” Nick rubs your back, “You doin’ okay?”

“Yeah,” You nod, voice slightly shaky as you smooth your previously-folded hands down your thighs. The movement catches Carole’s attention, and you look away before you can see her reaction to your bare ring finger.

“He’ll be fine,” Goose leans over to slap Bradley’s calf, and Carole looks like she wants to scold him for it, as if he'll die right then and there, “He’s tough just like’is daddy.”

“His daddy should go get me some tea,” Carole huffs, placing her hand over Bradley’s as if it would make up for Nick’s slap, “And take Maverick with you, I don’t want you getting lost.”

“Oh, again-?” Goose grumbles, setting his lunch on one of the plastic chairs around Bradley’s bed, “You could’a told me that before we left, honey.”

“Didn’t want it until now,” Carole insists, “Now shoo, get some for Y/N, too.”

The second the door shuts behind the two men, a stiff silence falls over the room.

Carole’s sweet voice breaks it, but it’s the last thing you want to hear, “Where’s the ring?”

You stare at the sandwich in your lap, like it’ll open face and read like a book, giving you instructions on how to lie your way through this.

“I know he asked you,” She presses on, voice pitched up with tension, “I- I gave him the ring Nick used to propose to me. That was almost a month ago. We swapped it out for a wedding band, and- and I thought Bradley could use the engagement ring for you, too. I know he asked you.”

“Carole,” You can’t bear to look her in the eyes, not the woman who’d fed you macaroni and cheese when your dad was halfway around the world in a fighter jet and tucked you in extra tight during a rainstorm so that the lightning couldn't sneak through the gaps in the blankets to get you.

“No, tell me, where is the ring?” She raises her voice, the way she used to when Bradley would leave his scooter out in the rain to rust, “Just tell me-” Her voice peters out into a weak whimper, “-tell me you didn’t say no.”

“I’m a coward,” You finally mutter as her answer, hateful and wicked, “I got scared. I wish I’d said yes, really, I- I wish I could take it back, but-”

“What did you do?” Her face crumples at your admission and she nearly shrieks, squeezing her hand tighter over Bradley’s, “Y/N, what did you do?”

“I said no!” You sob, chest heaving as you wipe away a tear from your eye heavy-handed, “I was scared, Carole. After Coyote went down,” You blearily recall the last plane crash you’d heard about, a member of Bradley’s own squadron caught in a bird strike. He’d been fine, but waiting for the news took you right back to your youth, and you’d been hit with the striking realization that it could happen to Bradley, too. It could be you in that chair, it could be your love on the line. You’d been so sick with dread that you’d backed away altogether, running away to preserve your emotions.

“I just- I didn’t want it to happen to Bradley,” You confess, “I didn’t want it to happen to me. So when he asked, I was-” You sniffle, hard, “I was so scared. I didn’t want to marry him and then lose him. For some reason this-” You suppress a sob, throat aching and chest heaving, “-dating a pilot is different than marrying one. Dating is- it’s temporary, even if you plan on it lasting forever. It’s less serious, it’s not set in stone. But marriage-” You hiccup, “-marriage is the real deal. It's like- It's like I was dating Bradley, y'know, the teenage boy who took me to homecoming because I was sad no one asked me. But- but then all of a sudden I was marrying an aviator. And that’s- that was scary! That was real. I- we’d been together for twenty years!” You gush, wiping your nose with the back of your hand, “I should have known marriage wouldn’t be any different. It’s not like we ever thought we’d break up,” You sniffle weakly, “Marriage was always sort of silly to me, 'cause we just thought we'd be together forever regardless. But I never realized how real it would feel. So I- I freaked out. When he asked me, I made up some stupid excuse, and I chickened out! But-” Your chest heaves with a sob as you finally lift your eyes to Bradley, “He crashed anyway. He went down even though I said no, and it still hurts.” You cry, face scrunched in despair, “It hurts so bad, Carole, I didn’t think it would still hurt.”

“You fool,” She huffs exasperatedly, but she reaches out to clutch your hand like a lifeline. She’s holding Bradley’s with her other, and you wish for a moment that you could cut out the middleman and hold his hand on your own. You don't feel worthy to touch him anymore. “You don’t stop loving someone by leaving them, you stop loving them by moving on. Of course it still hurts, you didn't move on; you still love him. And- and leaving him didn’t stop him from getting hurt, it just meant he probably went down wishing he got to tell you he loved you this morning, so you'd know.”

The thought breaks you, Bradley ejecting with you on his mind. Evidently he hadn’t fully accepted your breakup, not if he hadn’t even told his mom about it. You wonder if he was planning on trying to get you back, if after work today he would have come over with flowers and a thousand pleas on his lips that you didn’t deserve.

“He loves you,” She continues, tears wetting her own cheeks, “And even if you did say somethin’ stupid, I don’t think there’s anything you could tell that boy that’d make him stop loving you. Apologize when he wakes up, baby, he’ll understand. He'll be hurt, no doubt. But he’s been scared before, too, believe me.”

“I will,” You gush, nodding as she squeezes your hand and Bradley’s in sync, “I will, I promise! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Just make it right,” She pleads, “Can’t have you two splittin’ up now, not after all this time.”

“I wish I hadn’t done it,” You weep, holding your hands to your eyes as if you can plug up the tears, “I- I just panicked! And I’ve been a wreck ever since, I- I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t-”

“Tea’s here!” The door opens, and Nick is suddenly a lot quieter as he sees you bent in half and crying, “Oh, honey.”

“C’mere,” Your dad edges around Goose, squatting by the side of your chair while Carole rubs your back. He’s always been fantastic at comforting you, which you marvel at because he was so active in his career. He wasn’t always around when you were little, but that didn’t stop him from knowing how you liked your back rubbed, your hair done, and your cookies warmed.

“He’s gonna wake up,” Your dad soothes you, wiping a tear away from your face, with the hand that isn’t rubbing your back, “Don’t worry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay,” Carole promises, and you know she’s talking about something else entirely, “It’s alright honey, it’ll all work out.”

Nick feels a bit useless now, standing there with two cups of tea in his hands while everyone else comforts you, but he’s quick to notice a frown work its way onto Bradley’s sleeping face.

“Brad- hey! Look,” He gestures with one cup of tea, only spilling a tiny drop, “I think he’s wakin’ up.”

All of a sudden you want to go home. You’re not sure you can do this, you don’t belong here with his grieving family. You belong in your bed, kicking yourself for your cowardice and wishing you’d done better by him.

But there’s no time to flee now, not again. This time you have to brave it, you have to watch as his big brown eyes slowly blink open, a haze of sleep and medication clouding them over.

“Agh,” He groans, hand twitching by his side, “What-?”

“Hey, Bradley.” Nick leans over the bed, tea now set aside on a tiny table, “How y’feelin’ bud? You had quite the plane crash.”

Bradley takes a moment to observe his surroundings, blinking blearily at your dad, then you, then his mom. His eyes drift back over to you and they feel like they’re lasers, boring searing holes through your chest where your heart used to be two weeks ago.

The slow and steady beeping that had been long since tuned out slowly started to increase while Bradley regained consciousness. Your dad looked warily at the machine, watching Bradley’s heart rate rise.

“I’ll get a doctor.” He ducks out, and Carole stands.

“We should go,” She grabs Nick’s hand, looking pointedly at you, “We’ll give you a minute alone with him, honey.”

Nick starts to protest about being led away, something about how ‘-he came outta my balls! I can’t see him when he wakes up in the hospital?’ but Carole’s already corralling him to the nurse’s station in search of your father. If you weren’t so fond of the woman you’d be cursing her for sticking you alone with Bradley, but you know you can’t let yourself succumb to fear again; this time you have to be a big girl.

“Baby,” Bradley rasps, turning your attention back on him. You watch him weakly, eyes apprehensive as he reaches for your hand, “C’mere.” 

You hesitate, and he lets out a weak chuckle, “Come on, now. You’re not gonna kill me by holding my hand.”

“Bradley,” You sniffle, reaching out for his limp fingers on the bed, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” He smiles lazily, eyes drooping, “I’m okay. Comes in the job description, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” You repeat, grief-stricken as you clutch at his hand desperately, “I shouldn’t have left, I- I wish I had stayed.”

“Baby,” His brows furrow and he laughs sympathetically, “They wouldn’t have let you stay, you know that. I work on a naval base, not at a chipotle. You can’t sit with me all day. Plus, there was no way you would’ve known I was gonna go down. I’m glad you weren’t there, sweetheart. I wouldn’t have wanted you to see that.”

All at once, your chest burns hot, blazing with panic. Is he not going to talk to you about it? Is he going to pretend nothing happened? Is he going to refuse to acknowledge what you’d said? You stammer, “What-?”

“Mr. Bradshaw!” The doctor comes in, cheery now that his patient is awake. You turn your head, still dazed and fear-stricken at Bradley’s demeanor. “Let’s see how you’re doing here. Any chest pain?”

“A little,” Bradley shifts in his bed, wincing infinitesimally.

“Probably just some discomfort due to the broken ribs. Headache?”

“Yeah,” Bradley admits with a groan, “That I’ve got.”

The doctor scribbles something down on his chart, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Bradley strains to think, “I… don’t know. I don’t even-" He grimaces, "I don't even remember the crash, ‘just know it happened ‘cause he told me.”

Bradley raises a shaky finger to point at Nick, who’s happy to see his son gain some mobility back, even if he is worried for the boy. The three adults had filed back into the room after the doctor, and you pointedly avoid Carole’s imploring stare.

“Think hard,” The doctor commands, and you squeeze his hand like it’s a play-dough machine, like memories will ooze themselves into his brain in star shapes and heart cut-outs.

“I remember…” Bradley rasps, turning his hand beneath yours to grasp it, “Jake’s birthday party. That was-” He glances over at you, “-last night?”

“That was three weeks ago,” This time your heart rate is the one to rise, echoing dully in your ears like the soundtrack of a horror film, “Is that-” You sniffle, “Is that the last thing you can remember, B?”

His eyebrows raise and he tries taking in the information, “Yeah- uh, shit. Three weeks ago. What does that mean, doctor?”

“It sounds like you’ve developed post-traumatic amnesia.” The doctor scribbles once more on his paperwork, “The good news is, we think you have only a mild concussion. And amnesia induced by mild concussions typically lasts only up to a week or two at most. But there’s a very real chance you could remember everything in just a few minutes.”

Amnesia.

He doesn’t remember.

“What I want you to do now is to rest, and we’ll have a nurse send up something to eat. Please,” The doctor eyes Nick knowingly, “Do not feed him the funyuns you’re holding behind your back.”

“Foiled again,” Goose laughs, tossing the packet of chips onto a chair beside his own lunch, “You got it, doc.”

“Alright, glad you’re awake,” The doctor bids you goodbye, “And- a nurse will be in to run a few simple tests later. For now, just sleep and eat.”

“Will do,” Bradley tries tightening his hand around yours but you worm away from him, and it’s heartbreakingly easy to do with his limited mobility. You stand abruptly, legs shaky and heart pounding in your chest as you stumble away from his bed.

Amnesia. Amnesia. Amnesia.

He doesn't remember.

“Honey?” Bradley calls warily, face scrunching into a tired frown.

His eyes follow you as you back right into your chair, the plastic scraping against the floor with an ungodly screech. Now the attention is all on you, and you give into that dreaded fight or flight response you seem to always fall victim to.

“I need to use the bathroom,” You ramble, rushing for the door, “I’ll be back!”

“Y/N-” Bradley tries calling, but his voice is weak enough where you can pretend you haven’t heard it as you try to refrain from running down the hall. You don’t make it ten steps before Bradley’s door closes with a sharp click, and the voice of one Carole Bradshaw cuts through the silence of the hallway.

“Y/N Mitchell!”

She’s using the same tone she used to use when you’d get in trouble for pulling a girl’s hair at school, or throwing mud at a boy who was mean to Bradley. You react just like you had then, spine stiffening and limbs locking. 

“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” She warns, stomping towards you in her half-raised heels, “Turn around, young lady.”

You follow her orders even if the nickname is outdated. She’s got her pretty eyes narrowed, and as much as it pains you to be on the receiving end of one of her seldom-used withering stares, it’s better than being in there and watching Bradley’s eyes shift when he suddenly remembers you’d been the biggest douche on planet Earth.

“Did you apologize?” She inquires, and you nod obediently.

“But- but Carole, he doesn’t remember-!” 

“He will,” She promises, “And when he does, you’d better apologize again. He needs you right now, y’know? He thinks it’s three weeks ago, before you ran off and left'im. As far as he knows, you’re still his adoring girlfriend who he’s probably yearning to see right about now. So go in there,” She reaches for your hand, “Kiss that boy on the mouth,” She demands, “And stop running away!”

“What? I can’t-” You gush, trying to pull away. But she’s stronger than Bradley is at the moment, and her hand tightens around yours, “I can’t lie to him! Not about this, I- how long am I supposed to pretend?”

“As long as you can,” She insists, already pulling you back towards his room, a woman on a mission, “You march right on in there, and tell him how worried you were, and let his memories come back to him on his own time. He’s traumatized right now, he just doesn’t know it yet, and he needs you there. If you break the news to him now, it’ll only stress him out more. Go play nice, and when he comes around in a few minutes, you can have a real talk.”

“I don’t want to lie to him,” You lament, and she stops pulling you down the hall to narrow her eyes at you.

“Babydoll?” She asks sweetly, and fooled by her kindness, you hum in question, “I don’t give a shit.”

She’s never foul-mouthed, so it catches your attention. She holds your incredulous gaze, “You want him back?”

“Yes.”

“You wish you’d never left?”

“Yes.”

“Well as far as he knows, you haven’t.” She huffs, the fabric of her skirt flowing near her calves, “So get in there and be there for your boyfriend of twenty years, and when he suddenly remembers you aren’t his girlfriend anymore, Grovel. Sound like a plan?” She raises an eyebrow, and you tamp down the nerves rising in your chest. You nod cautiously, resolutely, and she loosens her grip on your hand. She still holds it to lead you back to the room, but she stops outside the door to speak one last time.

“I know you love him,” Her voice is softer now, genuinely sweet and caring, “And I also know you like to run when things get scary. And that’s understandable, but it’s not okay, not right now. You can’t stop loving someone just ‘cause you don’t wanna lose ‘em. It’ll hurt worse if you walk away.”

“I know,” You breathe shakily, squeezing her hand, “Thanks, Carole.”

“Anytime, sweetpea,” She smiles, tears still gathered in her eyes, “Now get in there and kiss my son.”

“There they are,” Your dad stands as you reenter the room, “You ladies have a nice bathroom break?”

“‘Had the time of our lives,” Carole nods, letting you take the seat closest to Bradley’s head. Your feet feel burdened with lead weights as you step towards his bedside, and he watches you with worried eyes. You’re sure he knows you weren’t really going to the bathroom, not with the way you’d fled, but you’re glad he’s choosing to pretend for your sake. He seems worried, though, and you curse yourself for making this about you.

“Y/N,” He reaches out for you as soon as you’re in reach, his voice still hoarse. His hand squeezes yours instantly, and you feel for the panic he's probably experiencing. He deserves a shoulder to lean on, a hand to hold, and it should be someone better than you.

“Bradley,” You murmur back, trying to stop your lips from trembling, “I- can I kiss you?”

Carole’s voice rings in your ears, and you don’t have to turn around to know she’s smiling at the two of you. Bradley pauses, then his worried eyes soften and he nods weakly against the pillow.

“Oh,” Nick teases as you brace your hand on Bradley’s bed, leaning down to press a feather-light kiss to his lips, “Lovebirds!”

The kiss is nothing but awkward. It’s hesitant on your end, because you can’t believe you get to do it again. You’d really believed the goodbye kiss you’d shared with Bradley before he picked up dinner for the two of you would be your last one, so fitting your lips over his in the hospital seems like something otherworldly. You’re careful, too, because you don’t want to hurt him, not that you think you could ever smooch him to death. He doesn’t reciprocate much, he can’t, but the familiar prickle of his mustache against your lip is a welcome feeling that makes your heart feel light again, if only for a few seconds.

When you pull away, it’s gone. Because you have to look him in the eyes, the same ones you’d forced tears out of two weeks ago, and pretend like none of it happened at all.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” You gush, voice cracking, and it feels right starting off with the truth. You can get to the lies later, the ugly little abominations you’re cooking up so that he preserves as much mental energy as possible while on bedrest. You know Carole’s right, you know he needs to heal as much as he can before you make it worse with the news, but lying feels so wrong. He’ll find out sooner or later, and what if he really was done with you? What if he hadn’t told his mom so that no family drama erupted, what if it wasn’t because he was going to try to get you back? What if he hated you, and what if he hates you even more when he knows you’re lying through your teeth to him?

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He promises, his fingers curling slowly and carefully around your own, "Are you? You ran off, I was worried."

"I'm fine," You insist, waving away his concern with a shake of your head.

He doesn't seem satisfied with your answer; he can read you like a book. But he accepts your answer, and you admire him for not wanting to pry in front of everyone. He changes the subject, glancing briefly around the hospital room, “Baby my- my phone, can I have my phone?”

“It’s here,” Your dad hands it to him, and Carole watches your eyes widen infinitesimally. What if Bradley sees his text conversations? What if he sees that you haven’t talked in half a month? What if he finds messages from someone on a dating app he’d used, a rebound-in-the-making?

What if he’s changed his background? What if he wants an answer as to why it’s probably some picturesque sunset, a jet plane cutting through the clouds above. Or maybe it’s of Lewis, he’d recently had photos restored of the dog.

What if he notices your contact name is changed to something like ‘Do not answer’? What if he realizes he’s blocked you? What if all of your pictures together are deleted off of his phone, and he wonders why?

There’s a thousand things that could go wrong.

“Coyote called,” Bradley rasps, upon first sight of his screen. Then, “Hangman. Twice. Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, Payback, I- I should send out a message.”

“I will!” You lunge for your own phone, digging in your back pocket with suspicious urgency, “Uh, I’ll let everyone know, you just- just rest.”

“Okay,” Bradley hesitates for only a second, letting his grip go loose around his phone so that it falls back to the bed.

He seems content to let you do it, if only a little deterred by your insistence. But you’ll play the part of the fussy girlfriend, not wanting her injured love to work harder than he has to.

Nick and Pete take the time that you’re creating a group thread to question Bradley more on his memories, and every answer he gives sets your heart on edge. Your fingers feel numb as you type out ‘Rooster’s stable now, he has a mild concussion and a few broken ribs, but the doctors say he’ll recover fully. His memories are a little hazy from the past few weeks but apparently those will be back soon. I’ll send you any updates we get.’

Before anyone even has a chance to reply, you set the thread on silent. You can’t bear even getting a notification that the message can’t be sent, because you’re sure Bradley’s team aren’t too fond of you right now, and you wouldn’t be surprised if they’d blocked you in solidarity for their friend. But Bradley hadn’t even told his mom, would he have told his team? Would he even need to? Or would they notice the circles beneath his eyes worsening, the stubble adorning his cheeks from a lack of motivation to do anything productive? Or, maybe even worse, would they have seen him with another girl hanging off of his arm at a bar? Would they have caught him out to lunch with a woman and figured it out themselves?

“Hey,” Bradley rasps, effectively breaking your zoned-out worry spiral. Your eyes don’t lose their intensity but they focus on his pale face, and he offers you a weak smile, “Anyone respond?”

“Always the attention seeker,” Nick laughs, creating a distraction so perfect that you don’t bother checking the text to answer Bradley. “Should we tell ‘em to bring flowers too, Brad?”

“Shut up,” Bradley’s voice is far too quiet to be menacing, but it’s the type of teasing he always engages in with his old man, “When you were in the hospital you said I had to draw you one picture a day or you’d think I didn’t love you.”

“And I only got fifteen out of eighteen,” If Goose is capable of a withering stare, it’s what’s directed at Bradley now, “I can’t believe I bought a Bronco for a kid who doesn’t love me.”

“Alright, you two,” Carole swats at her husband’s arm, “Cut it out, don’t overwhelm him.”

“His heart’s beatin’ real fast,” Nick snickers, “But that’s probably ‘cause Miss Mitchell is doting all over him.”

The attention’s back on you, and it means Bradley’s waiting to hear your response. You dry swallow after sending Nick a good-natured eye-roll, trying to act like your heart isn’t beating ten times faster than Bradley’s.

Miraculously, nothing awful awaits you in the group chat. There’s no error messages, no scolding, no pledges of hatred for you, and it makes you think that you really might be able to get away with this for a while. Carole won’t tell, and that doctor said Bradley might not retain his memories for weeks. It’s like everyone has hit undo on what might be your biggest mistake in life, and you don’t know how to take the opportunity.

“Bob says he hopes you recover soon,” You push the panicked fog out of your head, reading in a low voice, “Hangman says he’s gonna give you flying lessons when you get back so that you,” You snort softly, “Get the hang of it, and to that, he is receiving a barrage of middle finger emojis.”

Rooster lets out a laugh, one that’s genuine and thick from his chest. It’s unlike his voice has been so far, it’s not fractured or achy, and the sound warms your heart. Some of the sickly despair that’s been coating your heart like globs of poison dries up, and you almost feel normal again when you slide your hand into his. He holds your back, and it’s like nothing’s ever happened.

You have your Bradley back; the only question is for how long.

Lunch is a sorry state of affairs for Bradley. His tray consists of chicken and gravy that runs into his mashed potatoes, and the jello they give him has a layer of cherry red liquid pooling overtop. You and Carole take turns spoon-feeding the man, giving each other a chance to mow through your sandwiches between bites.

Your dad watches out for the doctors while you sneak Bradley some of your sandwich. It’s cafeteria turkey, and honestly you’d rather go for the chicken on his plate, but he hums gratefully at the spread of mayonnaise and mustard on the bread.

“Thanks, babydoll.” He croons, a smear of mashed potatoes in his mustache that you wipe away with watery eyes at the nickname. He puckers his lips to kiss at your thumb and it’s like you’re at home on his birthday, feeding him in bed and stealing kisses between bites.

Bradley’s eyes start to droop halfway through his watery jello, and your dad stands, brushing sandwich crumbs off of his jeans.

“Alright, buddy,” He squeezes Bradley’s foot reassuringly, “I’ll head out. Probably best to let you sleep. Get some rest, and make her give us updates,” He narrows his eyes at you, accusatory, “I know you’ll be too wrapped up in him to remember we exist, but take some time away from his lips to tell me if he’s still breathing out of ‘em, m’kay?”

“Don’t be makin’ out too much, “Nick goads, standing when Carole grabs his hand and does herself, “His heart rate’ll skyrocket and the nurse is gonna think he’s havin’ a heart attack!”

‘Yes, yes, they love each other very much,” Carole hums, leaning down to kiss Bradley’s forehead. He leans into it but his hand stays in yours, and you gladly accept the same gesture from the woman on your cheek, “Let’s leave him be, okay? Brad, I’m coming back tomorrow morning,” She promises, “Your dad and Pete have some work to do in the backyard, but they’ll join us after lunch.”

The men don’t seem to have known about this yard work until now, and they share equally exasperated groans. 

“And I’ll be here,” You throw in, meeting Carole’s appreciative gaze, “I’ll stay until they throw me out.”

“You could always handcuff yourself to the bed,” Your dad hums, and you pointedly ignore Goose’s comment about the pair of handcuffs you ‘probably keep in your nightstand.’ It gets him a sharp smack upside the head from your dad, and you’re sure Nick will choose a better audience next time.

“We love you,” Carole promises, squeezing Bradley’s arm as he bids her goodbye, “We’ll see you tomorrow, baby!”

“Love you,” Bradley hums, voice less gruff than before now that he’s used it again, “See you tomorrow.”

The entire time he’s been awake, he hasn’t let go of your hand. He turns to you with those sleepy eyes of his, big and brown and begging for a kiss. You lean in before you can stop yourself, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

His heart rate picks up.

You laugh against his mouth at the increased beeping, and he’s barely sheepish as he nudges his nose against your own. You feel like you’re loving on borrowed time, like any second now he’ll be slammed with the memory of you breaking his heart, stomping all over it like it hadn’t been yours for the past 20 years - maybe all of your life.

“I love you,” He murmurs, squeezing your hand, “Y/N, I- I love you so much. I don’t remember anything,” He’s slurring his words slightly with fatigue, and you kiss the corner of his mouth as he speaks, “But I know you could have lost me forever, and I’m sure it wasn’t easy to handle.”

He has no idea how true his words are. Of course, you’d nearly lost his life to the crash. But two weeks earlier, you’d lost his touch, his voice, his gaze, his love, and you’re grateful the tears that line your eyes look natural.

“Mhm,” You nod, sniffling, “It was- it was hard, Brad.” You admit, thinking back to the night you’d left. You’d checked into a shitty motel for the night, and you’d cried yourself sick in the shower. Even after your stomach was emptied you couldn’t bring yourself to eat for two days afterwards, and you’d only given into the mini fridge after nearly passing out. Your days were long and spent regretting your decision, wondering if you’d ever be happy without him by your side, and worrying that he might be able to.

“I just keep wanting to do it over,” You gush, feeling his hand tighten around your own as you sob, “I- I wanted to take it back, to-” You swallow a sob, remembering your lines, “-to stop you from going to work. If I’d just made you stay…” Your face crumples with a gush of tears you aren’t able to hold back, and you give up on speaking for now.

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Bradley hums, kissing the space between your nose and your cheek. It’s all he can reach from the way you’re sobbing into his pillow, and you’re thankful for the comfort you might not be able to get soon.

“You couldn’t have changed anything,” He promises, and you nestle your head into his own to absorb his soothing voice, “My plane was still the one with the defect, baby. I would have gone down tomorrow if not today. ‘S only a matter of time.”

A wave of sickness washes over you at his choice of words, and you nod, trying to regain a grip. You lift yourself up from the pillow, neck aching as you crane it to kiss his chin. He smiles at you, his eyes so genuine and sweet that it makes you want to lose your lunch; it’s an expression you don’t deserve anymore, even if you long for it. It’s only a matter of time before he remembers everything, and you don’t know what you’ll do if he doesn’t want you anymore.

“You’re tired,” You hum, and he nods against the pillow, “Sleep, baby. You need rest.” You sniffle, wiping away a tear from your eye more forcefully than you need to. You try to lean back in your chair but Bradley stiffens, and feel him tighten his grip on your hand.

“Please don’t leave me,” He begs, and more of that nausea comes rolling in. They’re the exact words he’d whimpered just next to your ear two weeks ago, keeping the door closed with one hand while the other wound around your waist. Then, you’d wormed your way out of his grip, ripping the door open despite his efforts to stop you and running off to your car. Now though, you meet his eyes, scared and desperate and lost, and you nod, scooting forwards to lay your head on his chest.

“I’ll stay,” You promise, and he raises a hand to brace it against your cheek. You turn your head to kiss his palm, and he strokes a thumb over your face, “I’ll stay, Bradley, I promise.”

The nap that you take on Bradley’s chest is the best sleep you’ve had since you left. Being in his embrace once more practically erases your undereye circles, and it takes you a few seconds after you wake up to remember that anything is out of the ordinary in the first place. Then it all comes flooding back, and you cycle through each stage of grief respectively while still slumped onto the bed. Then you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder, and you realize that Bradley’s nurse has shaken you awake.

“Hi,” The man smiles down at you, “Sorry to interrupt. I’m sure you didn’t want to wake up.”

“Oh,” You laugh hesitantly, slipping out from beneath Bradley’s hand and wiping away a slight glob of drool that had accumulated around the corner of your mouth, “No, no, it’s okay. What time is it?”

“Dinnertime,” Another nurse chimes from by the door, carrying another tray of meat and potatoes for Bradley, “Around six-thirty, Miss Mitchell.”

“You’re welcome to eat here with him,” The first nurse informs you, “But you’ll have to get something from the cafeteria, or order in. And visiting hours end at eight,” He levels you with a sympathetic smile, “But if you’ve got one bite left I won’t kick you out.”

“Thank you,” You chuckle wearily, your voice barely thickened with tears, “I appreciate that. Bradley,” You hum, squeezing his hand and stroking your free one through his hair, “Wake up, baby. They brought you some dinner.”

He comes to groggy, and you don’t blame him. He blinks a few times, then recognition washes over his face as he remembers why he’s there, and hopefully nothing else.

The nurses get busy with moving his bed, pressing buttons on the little remote strapped to the side until he’s inclined enough to eat his meal. The tray hooks into the sides of the bed so that he doesn’t have to hold anything, but you take his fork for him anyways, leaving his hands completely free.

“Thank you,” You nod gratefully at the nurses when they retreat for the door, a smear of mashed potatoes already gathered on the utensil in your hand. Bradley’s happy to let you feed him, humming at the taste of the beef they’ve given him. 

“Better than the chicken,” He hums, his voice gaining back a bit of its grating quality from earlier. He’s usually rough-voiced after a nap, so you don’t worry too much about it. Typically you indulge in his raspy morning voice, but now it seems insensitive. 

“Good,” You croon, scooping mashed potatoes and gravy onto a bite of the beef, “And it doesn’t bother your stomach?”

“What’s there to upset it, salt?” He grumbles around a mouthful, “Barely tastes like anything.”

“Sorry, Brad,” You hum, stroking a stray strand of caramel colored hair back into place, “I’m not supposed to feed you anything else, though.”

“I know,” He relents, lips puckering to kiss your wrist instead of wrapping around the spoon in your hand, “Not your fault, baby. But,” He rears back to takes the bite, chewing thoughtfully while you wait for his next sentence, “Can you bring me cookies tomorrow?”

You laugh, trying to keep it quiet in the slowly darkening hospital room. There’s no one around, and the door is closed, but his voice isn’t loud and you don’t want to overpower him. 

“I just said I wasn’t allowed to feed you anything else,” You roll your eyes affectionately, a teasing gesture you thought you’d never be able to do with the man anymore, “What makes you think I’d bring you cookies?”

“Um, ‘cause you love me?” Bradley drawls, voice finally rising to a healthy volume. Maybe it’s the food in his stomach, or maybe it’s a switch that was suddenly flipped in his chest, but he sounds like himself again.

His words sober your fantasy intoxication, and you smile sadly at him where he lays in his bed. You set the fork down to lay your hand over his cheek, your palm soaking in the warmth of his skin that’s newly returned.

“I do love you,” You promise, leaning in to kiss him. You have to lean over his plate to do so, and you’ll worry later about any potential gravy stains on your shirt. You go slow and gentle, worried that he’ll push you away for reasons he doesn’t remember yet. But he doesn’t. In fact, when you pull away to give him some air, he catches your wrist in a surprising display of agility for his weakened muscles, and you freeze in place.

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs, mustache shifting slightly with his apology, “I can’t stop thinking about you getting that call. I never-” His voice cracks, “I never wanted you to go through that.”

“Me neither,” You feel tears pricking at your eyes again, the same that are shining in Bradley’s, “But you don’t have to be sorry. None of this was your fault, and what matters is that you’re okay now. I have you back, Bradley, I- I didn’t lose you.”

“You’ll never lose me,” He vows, and your lips sting with the force of your bite to repress a sob. 

He lifts his head from his pillow, the first time he’s done it since waking up. He kisses your temple as you try not to cry, lips dotting staccato kisses against your skin as you tremble slightly.

“I promise, baby,” He hums softly into your skin as his hand comes up to hug you, “You won’t lose me.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” You cry, your fist gripping his hospital gown desperately. You want to believe him but it’s not even really Bradley talking, it’s three-weeks-ago Bradley that doesn’t remember you walking out of his life for self-preservation. It’s Bradley that doesn’t know the worst of you yet, but who could remember at any moment and cast you away.

“You won’t, I promise.” He coos, stroking up and down your back. You feel silly, accepting comfort from a hospital patient who went down in a fighter jet less than 24 hours ago, but you feel even sillier that it's the same man you’d torn to shreds days prior. But he’s comforting you, he’s rubbing your back, he’s kissing your face, and he’s promising you that you’ll never lose him, so you let him, because you love hearing him lie, even if he doesn't know he's doing it. 

“You promise?” You look up at him with watery eyes that blur out his face, but you see him nod. It’s unfair to ask, not when he doesn’t have the knowledge to truly promise. He cranes his neck forwards to bump noses with you, letting you cry against his skin.

“I do, honey.” He nods, holding you close like you’d never left at all,  “I promise.”

Going from crying into each other’s embraces back to eating bland mashed potatoes is hard, but you ease Bradley into it with a bite of granola bar you’d found in your purse. He’s grateful for something with flavor, and you’re glad to finally be rid of the half-eaten snack. 

“Oatmeal raisin cookies, please,” Bradley begs as he chews the snack, going as far as to bat his pretty lashes at you, brown eyes shiny with hope. 

You scoff, wiping a tear away from your face with a fond, albeit trembling smile, “Okay, Brad. Oatmeal raisin.”

“You’re the best,’ He hums, grinning with a mouthful of oats and chocolate. You check your phone to find that you’ve only got twenty minutes left until visiting hours are over, and your eyes dim as you glance back up at him.

“I have to go soon,” You lament, “Visiting hours are over in twenty.”

His face fades from its pretty smile, some of the newfound color draining from his skin once more. You’re sure he’ll have a nightmare tonight, something about jet crashes and dying alone, and you hate leaving him here so vulnerable.

“I’m sorry, baby,” You sniffle, squeezing his hand, “They open back up at 8 tomorrow, so as soon as I make those cookies I’ll be back, I promise.”

“I know,” He nods, raising your intertwined hands to kiss at your wrist, “It’s okay. Not your fault.”

“I’d stay overnight if I could.”

“I’d sneak you into my bed,” Bradley grins sadly, “S’alright, baby, just get a good night’s sleep. You deserve it after today.”

“You too,” You squeeze his hand, smiling sweetly at him, “And if you have a nightmare, text me, and I’ll crawl through the window, ‘promise.”

He laughs again, and now that he’s got most of his strength back it’s a normal sound. It’s not weak, it’s not subdued, it’s perfect. It’s Bradley.

“I’d like to see you try,” He teases, and you wipe a smear of chocolate off of his lower lip, remembering the first time you’d ever done that with a fond smile.

“I’m on the sixth floor.” He reminds you, and you shrug, sucking the chocolate off of your finger.

“Meh,” You crumble up the granola bar wrapper in your fist, “I could scale that easy.”

“Oh, really? Yeah, I bet you could,” Bradley chuckles, “You’re Spider-Man, suddenly? Sticking to walls? I must have forgotten your transformation.”

“Yeah, you did,” You grin with a laugh, “Actually, while I rushed over here to see you, a truck full of radioactive spiders crashed, and I got bitten by one. You’ve missed a lot, Brad.”

“Right,” Bradley’s brows raise, eyes alight with amusement, “Those radioactive spider trucks are a real nuisance, I hear.”

Giggling sweetly with him feels normal. The kind of normal you crave, the kind that isn’t settled for, but yearned for. And you’re clinging to it, pushing the truth out of your mind and playing the part perfectly.

A knock on the door interrupts your gigglefest and you turn in time to see the nurse from before entering, a bittersweet smile on his face. 

“I’m supposed to kick you out,” He jokes, holding Bradley’s chart, “And you’re free to sleep whenever, Mr. Bradshaw, we don’t need to conduct any more tests tonight. You’re just here to be monitored."

“Alright,” Bradley nods and you stand, still clasping his hand in yours. The doctor busies himself with straightening up the chairs around the bed, and you take the privacy he so kindly grants you.

“Sleep good,” You recite your pre-bedtime deployment sendoff to Bradley, the phrase having gathered dust in the back of your head since his last overseas assignment, “Sweet dreams, and call me when you can.”

“I will,” Bradley leans up to kiss you, going for your lips, then your cheek, then your chin, “You too, baby. Get some rest. I’m okay, I promise.”

“Yeah,” You beam down at him, smoothing his hair away from his forehead, “You’re okay, Brad.”

"See you tomorrow!" He calls as you leave, and you turn to nod.

"See you tomorrow, baby." You promise once more, hand on the door handle, "Goodnight."

“Sleep well, Mr. Bradshaw,” The nurse bids Bradley goodbye with a smile and a nod as you trail out behind him, and at the click of the door behind the two of you, it’s like you’re the recovering amnesia patient. Now that Bradley’s not there anymore, not smiling at you, not telling you he loves you, it’s like you can’t be sure of anything, like you’re still that imposter you’d been when you’d first stepped in. You come to the sickening realization, only after the fact, that you'd loved lying to Bradley, and it makes you feel worse. Your reverie is shattered, and the nurse beside you notices your shaky breathing as you trail down the hallway.

“Miss, are you okay?” His brows furrow in concern, and you nod.

“Yeah, just-” You smooth your hands down your pants, your palms sweaty, “It’s a lot. Being in there, seeing him like- like that. I guess I wasn’t prepared.”

“No one is,” The nurse smiles sympathetically at you, leading you to an elevator, “But he’s right, Miss Mitchell. He’ll be alright. And hopefully, his memories will restore themselves overnight. There’s a good chance he’ll wake up remembering it all.”

You’re sure that was meant to soothe you, but it’s only sent more nausea rolling through your body. You nod, forcing a smile as the doors shut between you, “Thank you, Nurse.”

Once the doors shut, you want to burst into tears. You don’t want the reception desk to see that, though, so you rush through the motions of leaving, practically running to your car. Once you’re safely inside the floodgates open, and you’re surprised you don’t trigger the horn from how hard you’re sobbing against the steering wheel.

You try to channel Bradley’s voice, ‘I promise baby, you won't lose me.’ but it makes things worse, it piles guilt on top of your sickness and makes you want to run away again. Because he’d promised you that he’d never leave you, not that he’d ever let you come back if you’d left him. And that’s what you’re worried about now.

Running away hadn’t stopped anything bad from happening, it just made you feel worse when bad things did happen. Thankful for your second chance, you swear to yourself in the stuffy silence of your car that you’ll do anything to fix this, and that you’re not going to fuck this up again because you’re scared. Love is scary, giving yourself completely to another person is scary, but Bradley’s always been good at soothing your fears, and there’s no one you’d rather give yourself to.

You steel yourself as you prepare to drive back to your motel, but second-guess it when you remember that Bradley has his phone with him. You have each other shared on Find My Friends, and he doesn’t normally check it unless he’s worried about your safety, but you’re paranoid that he’ll find your pin at a crappy motel and know something is wrong. So you punch in Bradley’s address instead, the one you used to share with him, still labeled as ‘home’, and set off.

The drive looks familiar in no time, and it reminds you of how much you’d missed it. The big oak tree on your neighbor’s lawn, the flag perpetually at half-mast because the man across the street fell while adjusting it and never fixed it, the tricycle on the sidewalk beside your front door that the toddler next door always seemed to leave on your walkway. You check the mail and feel something stabbing at your chest when your name is on one of the letters, and your house key is cold with disuse as you slide it into the slot.

You hesitate when the doorknob turns beneath your fingers. Walking into Bradley’s space will tell you exactly how he feels about what happened between you. There’s either going to be empty bottles strewn everywhere with pictures laying around covered in tear stains, or there’s going to be a hot pink bra in his bed, and a new woman’s makeup kit in his bathroom. Hell, maybe she’ll even still be there, maybe you’re about to walk in on your replacement.

But the promise you’d made to yourself in the car wasn’t for show, and you turn the knob after taking a deep breath, stepping into the darkened home.

You call out an uncertain ‘hello?’ into the place, waiting with bated breath for a woman’s voice to respond. But it never does, and you flick the light on beside the door.

You’d been right with one of your guesses.

It’s messy. Not exactly the outwardly disastrous type of messy you’d imagined earlier, but knowing all of the little things about Bradley means that you know he’s let himself go over the past two weeks. His running shoes are gathering dust by the door, which seems to suggest that he’s been lazing in bed just like you have. The living room is pristine, the pillows all arranged the way you set it up that Bradley doesn’t care to replicate, and you wonder if he’s sat on the couch at all the entire time since you’ve been gone. There’s no grocery list on the fridge and upon further inspection, the appliance is close to empty, one lonely beer left alongside ketchup, mustard, and a rotting head of lettuce. Unless he was eating the worst burgers known to man, you don’t think he’s been eating anything from the kitchen. Your heart aches for Bradley; you hope he’s been ordering food in.

Walking through the space is like revisiting a crime scene as the killer. Everything here is because of you, the pictures stripped from the walls are gone because of you, the lonely toothbrush in the dual holder is because of you, the neatly made side of the bed with its messy counterpart is because of you. 

You realize that it’s your side that’s slept on, Bradley’s still tucked neatly in place, unused. You spot a red covering over your pillow, reaching for it and finding it to be an old t-shirt of yours that Bradley had raided your dresser drawers for. It’s one he’d bought you at a tourist trap on your vacation a few years ago, and it was your favorite to lounge in. You notice a dark spot on the fabric and only then realize that you’re crying, that it’s a tear that had fallen from your eye. Then it’s like everything hits you all at once, and you sink onto the mattress clutching the pillow. It smells like Bradley, and you know he’s been clinging to it every night, a thought that solidifies your sneaking suspicion that you might be the worst person on the planet.

You curl up and cry there, you don’t know for how long. All you can do is sob, soak your pillow with tears that you thought you were out of, clutch the bedsheets like they’ll reveal Bradley, hidden underneath and eager for a cuddle. This bed feels as empty as the motel’s had, maybe even emptier, because you’ve never slept in it away from Bradley. When he’s on deployment you always have a sweatshirt of his and a picture of him tucked under the pillow, but you know it won’t be there now. Now you’re alone, really alone. 

Your eyes droop and you know you need sleep, especially if you’re going to wake up early to make Bradley cookies in time for visiting hours to start. But you can’t bring yourself to sleep without the picture of him under his pillow, so you stumble out of bed to fetch it from your box of memories.

Your fingers close around the slightly wrinkled photo, a shot of you in a gown and Bradley in a suit. It’s one you’d taken yourself at your graduation, high school turned college sweethearts. He had wanted admission into the Naval Academy, but in order to spend more time with you, you’d enrolled together at a university. It’s your favorite photo to have with you, and you reach out to Bradley’s pillow to slide it underneath. Upon lifting the pillow, you find a stack of pictures already there. Each one of you, most with Bradley pictured in them too. They only make you cry harder, and you recognize some as the inserts of the picture frames that had been taken down from the hallway.

It looks like Bradley hoarded photos of you, and some are stiff and stained with tears. The sight is something out of a movie, a dramatic indication of the inner turmoil of its main character. You see a shot of your silhouettes together, faces darkened by the sun streaming in behind you. You’re kissing on the beach, and without paying much mind to the structural integrity of the photo, you clutch it to your chest.

You’re a wreck. You just want your Bradley back, but your Bradley isn’t yours anymore. You want three-weeks-ago Bradley back, the one who you didn’t run away from. But he’ll probably have his memories back by tomorrow, and there’s no telling if he’d even want you to visit again. Looking at the sorry state of his apartment, you know he misses you, but whether he wants you back is another question altogether. All you can do is wait and worry, and worry you do. As you sob and heave in the bed, your brain shuts down, and eventually you drift into a dreamless, unpleasant sleep, nose still buried in your shirt that smells like Bradley.

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

[alonetimelover]

pairing: harry styles x polish!reader (fem, she/her)

summary: harry plays a show where one of the most important people in his life attends - his fiancée's granny.

submitted by @otaktomotyl, thank you and i hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it!

a/n: i found polish translations on the internet, i hope they're okay.

masterlist ask, comment, come say hi!

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harryupdates

liked by harrysmoustache, harryshoee and 37 201 others

harryupdates HARRY landed in Warsaw. I repeat, HARRY landed in Warsaw.

view all 3 013 comments

harrysmoustache and he's holding yn's hat???

harryshoee yn and harry can finally reunite... 🥹

harrysfan92 do you see his arms???? he looks like a Greek god, god damn

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harrysmoustache

liked by harryupdates, stylesbabie and 12 301 others

harrysmoustache HAARY AT YN'S COUSIN WEDDING!!!!

view all 2 492 comments

harryupdates you're so fast with those updates, lyla. im gonna lose my job...

stylesbabie yn be aware, he looks good enough to be THE groom. keep him close

⤷ harryslipstick i think that ring on her finger is saying more than anything

harrysmybestie guys, you know we are so close to see HIM at HIS OWN wedding...

⤷ harrysmylife don't

⤷ harrysmoustache why would you say that?!

⤷ outofstyles am i the only one awaiting that day impatiently??? i wanna see him being all nervous and loving and all of the emotions that people feel at the weddings

stylesislife only harry styles could come to my wedding wearing a tanktop that he also wears to his shows

⤷ hArrysbtch the only man i could forgive AND compliment on looking so fucking good

stylesbabie yn's cousin posted a photo from the ceremony, and you can see yn and harry being all snuggle and touchy 😭😭😭 i love them so much

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"What do you mean you're not coming up on stage? Harry, my love, what changed during the last two hours?" YN asked into her phone, anxious Harry being on the other side, soundly biting his nails. "And stop biting your nails, you've got a very nice colour on them."

"Is babcia (granny) here?"

"Mum texted they're close to the gate. Jeff, was kind enough to go there and pick them up so they wouldn't get in any trouble."

"Good, good, good. can- can you come backstage? I think I'd like some ted talk before the show," he said quietly, smile growing on his face. "And some kisses, too."

"Give me 10 minutes, I'll find that kind guard and ask him to guide me. I can't remember when to turn right."

"I'll wait for you. I love you."

"I love you."

Harry got up from the couch and started pacing from one wall to the other. His hands were trembling, getting sweaty. He couldn't remember when was the last time he felt this nervous before start of the show. Not wembley or Slane Castle were as nerve wrecking as Warsaw. He knew it perfectly that it wasn't because of the city or the country. Well, it partially was.

It was YN's home show. But also her whole family was just outside the gates or already walking down the hallways to get to their seats (VIP of course, besides YN's younger cousins that wanted the front row, barricade experiance). And probably the most important guests for Harry - YN's grandparents, especially her granny. A sweet 92-year-old lady that started learning english and using an iPhone to be able to talk and contact Harry. A lady who bought his heart with sweet butter biscuits that no one could replicate. A lady that listened and then learned his whole three albums for this day - the day she would finally see him play live.

So he was terrified to disappoint her.

"What if i mess up the lyrics?" he asked YN when she finally came to the greenroom, he had been pacing in.

"Then she will sing it to you."

"But what if she won't like hearing me live? I mean, it's- it's a possibility. What? Why are you giggling. I'm really stressed here, my darling."

"I'm so sorry." She kissed the crown of his head. "It's just that you're afraid of impossibility. There is no way she would laugh at you or be disappointed in you." YN stroke his hair, gently massaging it, bringing Harry peace.

"You sure?"

"I've never been more sure in my life."

"She'll like it." Harry reassured himself aloud.

"Yes, she will. Not only she loves you like her own grandchild, she's also nervous. This morning she facetimed me to help her pick up an outfit. She bought quite a few things after she saw some pictures of your fans on the internet." She laughed, finding it quite adorable.

"Did she?" Harry lifted his head from yn's lap. "Oh, bless her."

They spent the next few minutes in silence, letting Harry's heart to calm down and steady its pace.

"Wait, did you say that you've never been more sure about something in your life?" Harry eventually broke the silence.

"Yes?"

"So, you had doubts when I asked you to marry me?"

"Oh god."

——————————————————————————————

harryloveontour

liked by harryupdates, stylesmaaan and 21 491 others

harryloveontour first look at harry at tonight's show in warsaw! it wasn't even the first minute, and he was already seen sending kisses towards yn!

view all 6 023 comments

harrysmylife and it was not only for yn!!! her whole family is with her. even her grandparents.

⤷ stylesbabie omg, they must love him soooo so much

ynandhmyparents they are the sweetest couple i've ever seen, like ever

harrysmoustache is anybody live??? i need to experience this show, i have tissues ready

⤷ hArrysbtch hslotwarsaw is live and it's in such a good quality

——————————————————————————————

hslotwarsaw

liked by harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 21 291 others

hslotwarsaw this is harry's reaction to seeing yn dancing with one of the fans during adore you!!!

view all 3 491 comments

harryupdates omg, his reaction was priceless!!!!

hArrysbtch the way this man said "back off, my friend. she is taken. ring and all. no, no, no." he wa ready to jump from that stage to stop that man from hugging yn!

⤷ stylesbabie i mean, did that guy asked yn if that was okay?

⤷ lovingharry he did, you could see it on the videos that people already posted

harrysmoustache he's like "excuse me, man. that is my fiancée. MY fiancée."

harrysmylife oh, this concert just started and i know it's gonna be the best of all times

——————————————————————————————

lately you've been on my mind

honey, ah ah ah

The whole stadium was singing back to him. He could describe the feeling it awoke in him each time. It was similar but never the same. Especially today, everything seemed to touch him deeper, better, and clearer.

"Someone's stealing your girl, Styles"

Harry heard someone in his earpiece, making him stop singing. He played it cool by putting the mic towards the audience simultaneously looking for YN.

It didn't take him long. She was right where she promised to be. The space designed specifically for her family, not enclosed but clearly separated from the main audience. There she was dancing and laughing with some middle-aged guy.

Harry was a jealous person in nature. In particular when it came to his partners. He wasn't proud of it, and he definitely didn't have any way to believe that YN would sprint after every Tom, Dick and Harry. Every day she showed him how in love she was, there could be no way.

But here he was. Jaw clenched, not singing and glaring towards his fiancée.

"Harry, everything alright?" Again the voice in his earpiece.

YN stopped dancing, feeling that unmistakable eyes almost glued to her. Oh, it didn't look good.

"How you doin' Warsaw?!" Harry finally screamed into the microphone. The squeals, screems and whistles gave him all he wanted - distraction.

And when YN smiled at him so lovingly and sweetly, it was enough to carry him till this moment.

"Your sign says 'help me shoot my shot'. Is this person with you?" Harry asked the fan who was holding the very neat and colourful sign. Somehow he didn't recognise him from just a minutes ago.

"She's here."

"Wow! Your voice is so loud, man. But how do you want me to help you when she's here. She's next to you somewhere?"

And then if it would have been possible, Harry's jaw would touch the floor. That guy shamelessly pointed towards YN. Now he remembered.

People screamed so loudly, because everything was shown on the biggest screen behind the stage.

"Well, back off, my friend. She is taken. Ring and all. No, no, no." Harry tried to play it cool by laughing at the end. "And, as far as I'm concerned, we're not lookin' for the third one in the relationship."

Now the stadium was laughing along with the long 'ouuuu'.

"How did you know you'd be close to YN, anyway?"

"Manifesting."

"Manifesting?" Harry repeated so everyone could know the answer. "Well, you're doing it right, so I suggest betting or playing lottery. And, to be honest most importantly," he pressed. "Not stealing someone else's future wife!"

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 34 201 others

harryupdates harry introducing yn's grandmother at tonight's show.

view all 7 201 comments

hArrysbtch she is the sweetest lady, my god. i love her even though i don't know her 🥹

harrysmoustache "this show is very special to me. here are my future parents in law as well as grandparents. hello, hi!" i still can't comprehend harry being engaged...

harrysmylife "granny, how are you doing? do you need anything? no? you're good? excellent! that's what I wanted to hear. please give it up for granny!" and the way he started clapping both of his hands and the whistling???? and then speaking in polish i think???

⤷ polisharry Yes! He said 'dziękuję, babcia że tu jesteś' which means 'thank you granny for being here

harryfan82 this show is sooo good

outofstyles did anybody see harry constantly looking towards that area, where yn's whole family is?

⤷ harrysmoustache absolutely! i can't imagine how nervous he is, considering it's the first (at least that we know of) time he sings in front of them

——————————————————————————————

hArrysbtch

liked by harryupdates, harrysmylife and 33 101 others

hArrysbtch HE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO PLAY MEDICINE BUT THE BAND STARTED IT WITHOUT HIS KNOWLEDGE. I CANT. HES REACTION IS PRICELESS. HES TERRIFIED.

view all 8 101 comments

harryupdates he didn't even started it on cue, thank god the audience was so pumped up for it and sang it!

harrysmoustache "no no no no no. we weren't supposed to play it. sarah!" the fear and confusion in his voice was everything. they got him good.

outofstyles "you're gonna pay for it. all of you." this is so funny

stylesbabie the funniest thing is how when he started singing it, he was all touchy and sexy. it was like he forgot about the problem in the moment...

godstyles "granny's terrified" HARRY YOU DIDN'T PUT THE MICROPHONE DOWN, MAN

⤷ harrysmoustache but they showed granny being all smiley during medicine. i think she enjoyed it just like any other song!

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, stylesbabie and 41 202 others

harryupdates harry smiling while talking to yn's little cousin (yn was translating everything to her and then to harry). she then opened as it was with "harry, I wanna say goodnight to you"

view all 3 201 comments

hArrysbtch i hate kids but that baby was so cute i wish i could squish her cheeks

harrysmoustache he was all smiles and gentle eyes while talking to her, he loves this family so much

styleslove i love when people are so open with their feelings for their partner's family

harrysfan081 so cute

stylesbabie give this man a child already

——————————————————————————————

hslotwarsaw

liked by harryupdates, stylesmylove and 61 201 others

hslotwarsaw harry after splashing water at yn and her family at the end of the show!

and with this photo, we're ending our 'photo-stream'. thank you all for helping us prepare all of the fan projects and thank you for welcoming harry so warmly in our country! till the next time!

view all 8 20q comments

harryupdates you did amazing job!

hArrysbtch yn's granny got so happy at the moment harry decided to threaten her with a bottle

stylesbabie granny had a water gun and threatened harry back with it!!!!! it was soo cute, he run away laughing

harrysfan88 best show so far

harrysmylife "this one of the loudest show i can remember. and i know why. my fiancée's whole family is here. and believe me, they can make so much noise it's impressive!" my friend stood next ro them and confirmed, they were so loud during the whole set list!!

harryshands i can't imagine better way for harry to cope with this amount of pressure. he delivered one of the best performances in his life - sound and entertain wise. truly amazing

——————————————————————————————

"Harry, my sweet boy."

Harry turned 180° from the conversation he was having with Jeff to see the face of the lady with the heavy accent he knew so well.

"Babcia! (granny)" he exclaimed, jogging towards her and ambracing in a tight hug. "How I've missed you."

"You saw me yesterday, you."

"I know." He pulled away, still having his arm around granny. "But it's already been almost 24 hours. A long time, don't you think?"

Granny shook her head with a smile and placed her head on Harry's chest. She was rather exhausted from all the lights, noise, dancing and standing up for almost three hours.

"You wanna sit down, granny?" YN asked, squeezing her grandmothers arm in a way showing her she was nearby.

"Oh, yes. My legs aren't 20 years old as much as I would like them to be."

The three of them sat down on the green couch and talked about the show. Granny was impressed with all the fans having the time of their life, but specifically the ones that seemed to take in the show on their own terms.

"There were those two girls just hugging the whole time and singing softly all the songs. It was so lovely," granny explained.

"It's funny how they were two of very little to not use their phone during the show," commented someone in the room.

And before harry got the chance to defend people taking photos and recording, granny sat up straight.

"Well, in the 60s, my father took me to see The Beetles and I wish i had a camera then. It was such a magical moment that I would want it to be not only engraved in my mind but also on paper. I took so many photos of you, Harry. I need you to print them so I can show them to my friends on the next bingo evening."

YN nodded her head with a smile, not only planning to print the photos but putting the whole concert that harry recorded on the CD. Granny loved watching that type of thing on her telly.

"Harry," granny spoke up after a few moments. "I do have a question however."

"Ask away, granny."

"That song, medicine. What is it about?"

[codmw2019-2022]

Modern Warfare Character Ages [2019 + 22]

Preface: Just wanted to add before getting into this that this is my interpretation of the character ages based on information from the games, confirmed information, research into the military/CIA and collage/university course information. This is by no means meant to be a definite statement about character ages, I'm happy to discuss or change any of the information here within reason.

I would also like to credit @sleepyconfusedpotato and @oleworldblues posts with their own opinions on the character ages. Which helped base my own thoughts and provided some good information that they had found. You can find Sleepy's post here and Blue's here they are really good posts and they both explain their own reasons for how they perceive the main cast of modern warfare's ages.

Farah & Hadir Karim : 30 & 32 [2022]

Both Farah and Hadir's ages have been confirmed by Taylor Kurosaki who is one of the writers from Modern Warfare 2019. This was confirmed when a fan ask him via twitter/X about how old Farah was during the Barkov invasion.

This means in 1999 when Barkov invaded Farah was 7 and Hadir was 9. In 2009 when they escaped they are 17 and 19 respectively and in 2019 they are 27 and 29. Hadir dies in December of 2022 as discovered in the Atomgrad raids at the age of 32.

John Price : 37 [2022]

Using the information provided from his original operator bio we find that "John Price joined the infantry at the age of sixteen and has served the British Army for 18 years." and that "he was ‘Badged’ a member of SAS in 2005, spending the next ten years in the Middle East, the horn of Africa.".

With this Price's age works out to be about 34 years old, but since it only mentions serving the British army. I added 4 years for him to be able to complete basic training which is roughly 18 weeks basic training.* Followed by Special Air Service (SAS) training with is roughly a couple months, but you must serve at least 18 months in the military to be selected**, and finally his training at the Royal Military Academy to become a Lieutenant and then Captain which is 44 weeks with 2-3 weeks of leave.***

So Price would join the British army at 16 in 2001, be badged a member of SAS at 20 in 2005, become Captain at 25 in 2010. In 2019 he would be 34 and finally 37 in 2022, which to me makes the most sense based on other character's ages.

*[army.mod.uk solider training] **[eliteukforces.info SAS] [eliteukforces.info SBS&SAS] ***[army.mod.uk officer training]

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick : 32 [2022]

We can do the same process as we did with Price for Gaz, his operator bio says "Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick, enlisted in the British Army in 2008. Within four years, he passed selection for Her Majesty’s elite Special Air Service where he is currently rounding out a decade of service."

Since his bio never mentions what age he joins like with Price and Soap I'm going to assume he finished school and joined the military at 18. So Gaz is 18 in 2008, 29 in 2019 when he meets Price for the first time and 32 in 2022. I am not taking into consideration the archived Activision blog posts, which say he joined in 2014 because of them being archived. I do use it for some other characters but for Gaz it changed the date he joined not just giving extra information.

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish : 26 [2022]

You can blame Activision for why Soap is so young compared to the others. So according to his updated operator bio, "Soap has spent the last seven years carrying out both covert and overt operations around the world." this with the contents of his old operator bio before MW3 "At 16, too young to sign up, but lying about his age, MacTavish enrolled in the Special Air Service…"

Means that Soap would be 23 in 2022, which doesn't make the most sense especially considering he is a Sergeant in 2019 meaning he would be 20 in the MW3 flashback. So I gave him the same treatment as Price and added 3 years, to make up for basic and SAS training. So he would be 16 in 2012 joining the British Army have to wait 18 months to apply for SAS, be roughly 18 when he starts SAS training and finish it at 19 in 2015.*

So making him now 23 in 2019, 26 in 2022 but since he lied about his age TF 141 would think he's 28 during MW2 or 25 during 2019.

*[jobs.army.mod.uk SAS reserve]

Alex Keller : 35 [2022]

Alex is one of the last characters who have dates or years of service in their information. From his Campaign Biography it says he was a part of, "CIA's Special Activities Division," and also has surrendered "his former rank and history of special ops military service with Army Delta, Alex sacrificed traditional contact and association with family to join the SAD. He has spent the last six years living a series of assumed identities to achieve “sensitive” objectives wherever he is needed."

There's also, "Through 2017, Alex’s units played a key role in ensuring definitive victories against emerging terrorist networks." So we know Alex has been working in the military before 2017, now most SAD members are former Delta operators. There's also some reports of SAD members having Master's and law degrees.* So with that we can add roughly 6 years to his age to complete a master's degree in law.**

Now Delta force has some requirements like being over 21 to join and having two and a half years of service remaining, so if Alex joined the US military at 18 after finishing High School and getting his diploma.*** In a couple years he could join Delta Force, so by 26 he would be able to be apart of CIA's SAD. (If studying part time while in Delta Force) Then adding the another six years which is when he is apart of SAD, which is mention in his biography as the last six years. The bio is published late 2019 so Alex would be 32 years old.

So Alex would join the Military at 18 in 2005, would be 32 in 2019 when he loses the lower half of one of his legs and 35 in 2022.

*[CIA SAD] **[coursera.org law school] ***[Delta Force] [US Military Requirements]

Now for the Characters with little infomation

Alejandro & Rodolfo : both 37

We find out they've known each other for 20 years and signed up together. So they are both younger than 38 but older than 30 since Alejandro is a Colonel. Looking at Wikipedia you can/have to join 18 the Mexican military for at least 3 years, this gives them about maybe two years to get to know each other before joining together.

Ghost : 35 [2022]

Honestly just pick an age between Price and Gaz, I personally like the idea of him being the same age as Alex and having them know each other previously. Maybe even before Ghost starts wearing the skull mask.

Laswell & Nikolai : 52 & 45 [2022]

No older that 52 and 45 if we go based on their actors ages, which personally makes the most sense to me. Laswell's Campaign biography mentions her supervising a SAD program in 2008, and her having studied a Master's degree in strategic intelligence analysis and having a BA in International Affairs. This doesn't help much though with figuring out her age.

AN: Hopefully this very long post is some what helpful or at least has some good resources that people can check out, especially fanfic writers or people making their own OCs.

I'm also going to repeat what I put at the top the end here. But what I've written down is not a definitive answer for their ages (minus Farah & Hadir) it's just what I personally think makes the most sense.

Don't let my own opinions/conclusions about their ages get in the way of you having fun with how you view/interpret these characters.

[forcheol]

౨ৎ 3:37 AM — csc

synopsis you need to pee but there’s a slight issue… pairing seungcheol x reader genre fluff, timestamp note i just fucking miss this man so much. it’s 4:37am. i miss you, scoups :c word count 0.9k

you need to pee. like really bad. one small issue: there’s a thick & heavy arm over the middle of your torso which is making it difficult for you to move because if you just tried to push it off, you might wake the sleeping bear in human form next to you. aka, your boyfriend.

seungcheol’s fingers twitch a little from where they’re tucked between your body and the mattress, he always twitched a little when very deep in his sleep. you found it sort of…endearing, causing you to go absolutely heart-eyes at his sleeping form.

your boyfriend was a deep sleeper — especially when he’s had a long & tiring day — which is why you started contemplating whether you should just shove his arm off you & go pee or just forget about that option so that he doesn’t wake up with a pout (although you love to see it).

at first, you decided with the latter option & tried to fall back asleep…it didn’t work, the urge to relieve yourself intensified. so you decided to go with the other option. slowly placing your hands on seungcheol’s forearm, you push it away as carefully as you can in order to not wake him up. he stirs, mumbling a quiet ‘hm, cinnamon buns’ and a giggle begins to build in the back of your throat because is this man seriously dreaming about cinnamon buns? you might just have to go out & buy him some tomorrow.

nevertheless, you carry on with your mission. gently, you push his arm away inch by inch until it’s no longer resting on you but the tiny space between you & him.

the blanket, you slide it off your body & sneak out of your bed after slotting your feet into the fluffy cow slippers seungcheol bought for you (he saw you browsing them & ordered them secretly). mouthing a small ‘phew’ as you reach the bathroom, you quickly look back before shutting the door & doing what you came to do.

when you were done, you quickly slinked back to your & seungcheol’s bedroom to get back into bed. but you jump as soon as you turn around after closing the door because there’s seungcheol…sitting up against the headboard of your bed, with the comforter wrapping him up.

“why are you awake? did i wake you up? sorry, cherry, i didn’t mean to…” you voice out after gathering yourself.

“where did you go? it was warm but then all of a sudden it got cold” his voice was heavy & thick with sleep. you walked closer & he lifted a corner of the comforter, giving you access to get under the covers.

“i just went to the bathroom, cherry, and i didn’t wanna wake you,” you replied, “come on, let’s get back to sleep.”

“mm, s’okay. just missed holding you in my arms”, he pulls you down into his embrace & burying his nose into your hair.

“you were holding onto me so tight, you know. and i needed to pee so bad but i thought ‘leave it, i’ll pee in the morning’ and then you tightened your hold on me, you monster!” with fake annoyance in your voice, you nudged him a little & watched as a lazy smile appeared on his face, dimples peeking out faintly. you adored his dimples, loved seeing them, too.

“sorry, baby, just wanted to hold you…” his body became lax in your reciprocating hold the more you snuggled into him, “but, baby, why do you keep calling me cherry?”

“hm? you don’t like it? okay, let’s try somethi—”

“no! i mean, no, i didn’t say that…just answer the question.” your left brow goes up as you stare at him with amusement.

“okay. well, i don’t know, it just came to my head. maybe it’s because of your cute lips, cherry coloured and cherry flavoured. they’re just so pretty, i just wanna kiss you all the time!” your pointer finger goes to poke his plush lips & his pout reappears once more.

“and that pout! you’re so” you pinch his cheeks with your pointer finger & thumb, “so adorable, my silly cherry!” now, you pull and squish his cheeks. a giggle falls from his squished lips & it’s contagious. his laugh is so beautiful & contagious, it makes you laugh too.

“hm, if they’re so pretty to you then why don’t you kiss them?” he says slowly while stopping your finger & thumb from pinching any further while moving closer to you. you pretend to think it over before giving him a sweet kiss on the very lips you love & adore, pulling away with a ‘mwah!’.

seungcheol loves it when you do that. he loves dearly the random yet fitting nicknames you give him, the warmth you give him on a cold & rainy day, the hugs you give him after trudging up behind him on a lazy sunday morning, watching him cook scrambled eggs — just the way you like them. seungcheol loves you.

seungcheol lets out a yawn and moves closer to you — if that’s possible, given how close he was to you already.

“m’ sleepy ‘nd warm now, let’s sleep.” he says quietly, replacing that same arm around your torso that got you into this cutesy situation.

“goodnight, my silly cherry.” you kiss his forehead and bring your head back down to his chest. his heartbeat is fast, it makes you smile knowing you can still do that to him.

“mm, night night, my silly girl.”

author’s note: no this not me self indulging, what are you talking about??? sigh i just wanna be his silly girl, cooped up in his arms in our bed on a rainy day while we watch a movie we took 15 minutes to pick. i miss him. a lot. like more than i can explain through text. my cherry :(

btw i actually needed to pee & then thought of this & bam. this happened. I MISS HIM wanna kiss his cheeks & cute lips so bad & wanna hug him sm.

[kairoot]

₊˚★﹟ 에이티즈 : when they cheat on you in a dream

⟢ pairing : ateez x fem!reader ➖ genre : fluff ➖ requested : no ➖ warnings : none really, mentions of cheating, petnames, playful hitting in san’s hc

ss: having a nightmare about atz cheating on you and waking them up about it lmfao

. ⁺ .. 홍중 | hongjoong.

is actually startled when you wake him up

what is it that you need at 3:37 am..

nah cause mans has been working too hard in the studio and on that stage for you to come to him about some dream..

“what? what?” he sat up quickly, eyes squinted with his hair pointing in different directions.

“you really have the nerve to ‘what’ me after that?” you sat up against the headboard, arms folded.

he rubbed a hand down his face, “y/n what are you talking about..?”

“you cheated on me!” you shoved his shoulder causing him to glare at you in the moonlit room.

“y/n,” his face literally read ‘wtf’ all over. “i’m promoting right now. where and when would i have time to cheat on you?”

“..so if you weren’t promoting would you be cheating on me?”

he threw his pillow at you before turning over and going back to sleep.

. ⁺ .. 성화 | seonghwa.

he’s the one that feels you jolt awake

mother mode on

is kinda like ‘😕’ but he also laughs it off

doesn’t really take you seriously after that

“hey honey, you okay?” he props himself on one elbow, long hair in his face.

your eyes open up halfway before you realized what you just dreamed about. you furrow your eyebrows, pushing hwa away with a hand on his chest.

“i don’t know, considering my future husband just cheated on me..” you pouted.

ok first of all his heart fluttered at ‘future husband’

“i did what?” he chuckled, scooting back closer to you.

“hwa, it’s not funny! i saw it in my dream.” your hand came to shove him again but this time he caught it, bringing you into his embrace.

“oh, my baby. shh, you’re tired, go to sleep.” he smiled, patting your head as it laid against him.

. ⁺ .. 윤호 | yunho.

he’s the calmest one tbh

for some reason, he acts like it’s normal for you to wake up and accuse him of cheating 😭

he’s really good at comforting trust me

even if you did just interrupt his rest

“what’s wrong, baby? hm? tell me.” he reached over, rubbing your arm before yawning a bit.

“yunho, have you cheated on me?” you look up at him with big eyes, a frown on your face.

he cooed, giving you two pecks on the lips, “no, baby. why would i ever do that?”

you shrugged, still a bit skeptical. he read your mind, pulling you into his chest.

“i promise you, there’s no one i’d rather be with.”

. ⁺ .. 여상 | yeosang.

laughs at you pt2

no because what are you talking abt 😭

you better be glad he loves you cause sangie doesn’t like anyone interrupting his sleep

“y/n, you better have a good reason for waking me up at 2am.” he mumbled, his eyes still closed and cheek squished against the pillow.

“um, i think you’re the one who needs to have a good reason for cheating on me. oh wait, there isn’t one!” you threw the blanket off of you, pushing them to yeosang’s side.

he opened his eyes slightly to look at you before snorting.

“babe, are you serious?”

“no, don’t call me ‘babe’ now.” you scoffed, climbing out of bed to head downstairs to the couch.

“babe!” he called after you but the door was already closed.

“she’ll come back.” he murmured, closing his eyes back.

..and he was right.

. ⁺ .. 산 | san.

he’s actually kind of scared

thinks you’re a bit crazy but would never tell you that <3

san was still fast asleep, his breathing slow before you landed a smack on his bare back

“ow! what the-?!” he jolted awake, cheeks puffy while his eyes squinted as he looked around.

“so when we’re you gonna tell me you were seeing someone else, huh?” you propped yourself up, waiting for him to notice that the harsh action had definitely come from you.

he turned around, his eyebrows furrowed as he winced, touching the stinging spot.

“w-what? no, i- baby, who else would i be seeing?”

“whatever chick was in my dream, san!”

“oh, no, i swear, baby. i’ve never seen anyone else. my eyes are only on you. ah-!” he buried himself in your embrace and his face in your chest, continuing to rub at his back.

he peppered your cheek and neck with kisses, continuing to reassure you.

eventually you kissed him back, wrapping your arms around him and rubbing the now red spot on his back.

. ⁺ .. 민기 | mingi.

is just as confused as the rest

probably even more confused 😭

“song mingi, wake your ass up right now.” you shook him by the shoulder, causing his head to pop up.

“yeah? what is it, babe?” he rubbed his eye, trying to wake up.

“did you seriously betray me like that? you cheated on me?”

“what? babe, no, I-“

“THEN WHO WAS THE GIRL IN MY DREAM?” you whisper yelled, causing mingi to look at you like you had two heads.

“a-a dream, you said?”

“yeah!” you folded your arms.

mingi was way too sleepy for this and he was sure that you weren’t even aware of how crazy you sounded.

“babe.. I-“ he stopped mid sentence, face palming. he let you have your moment, knowing you’d be better in the morning.

. ⁺ .. 우영 | wooyoung.

laughs at you pt3

he’s actually amused

we all know wooyoung, so of course he thinks you’re hot when you’re angry

doesn’t take you seriously the second you accuse him of cheating

he felt you shifting in his arms and woke up to you trying to leave the bed.

“babe, where are you going?” he spoke in a groggy voice, eyes adjusting to the dim room.

“somewhere where there’s no cheaters.” you grumbled, still trying to get out of wooyoung’s grasp.

ok now he was confused.

“huh?”

“you cheated on me wooyoung.”

“okay..” he laughed.

“is this funny to you?!”

“yes. 100%.”

you scoffed, smacking his arm.

“no, seriously, babe. why would i look at someone else when i already have the sexiest woman in front of me?” you knew he had that smug smile on his face even if the room was still dark.

he kissed your cheek, bringing you back into the sheets to cuddle with him, laying your head on his chest.

. ⁺ .. 종호 | jongho.

probably annoyed with you

not mad but like, “are u serious rn 🤨”

another one who clearly does not take you seriously 💀

“babe,” you patted his arm, a frown already sat on your face.

“hm?”

“are you cheating on me?” you asked, sadness clear in your voice.

jongho opened his eyes, giving you a questionable, yet annoyed look.

his face softened a bit when he saw that you actually seemed worried.

“go back to sleep, y/n”

⟢ milan’s note: more ateez fics coming 😼

TAGLIST: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura @sasfransisco @kgneptun @m1ko-xu (message or comment to be added)

[manticore-fangs]

Hii!! I saw that you're taking requests, feel free to ignore :))

I've had this little blurb in my head, where the reader is a little chubby and very insecure, and Simon or König would have very sweet and gentle sex with the reader to make them feel better. Just a little idea if you need, have a great day :D

ooo.. now, i’m not a full on writer.. but i can definitely make a short little story about this :)

a/n this is so late i’m so sorry i’ve been having a really bad writers block, this isn’t proof read by the way

simon x reader (i don’t write for könig sadly :(()

cw: gentle, overwhelming feelings (?), praise, oral (fem receiving), fingering, not much sex but does fingers and tongue count?

simon came back after a 37 day mission, it was great that he came back, but what bothered him the most about that was you weren’t wearing what you usually wore. underwear and a really large shirt, usually you wore lingerie when he came back and in the bed. every single time. if not that, then you would have an baking outfit on. but you looked very tired.

it’s been two days since he noticed, two days and you didn’t initiate anything. he didn’t care nor did he want too have sex, he was exhausted from hauling ass for 37 days non-stop, he just wanted to go back to sleep. but you didn’t let him touch you.

now that set him off, usually he brings his scarred hand up and plays with your tummy and tits, calming him and you. it isn’t sexual but it does ease his nerves and it helps you relax knowing he’s next to you. but you pushed his hand down and away from your body and that’s when he sat up, hair fuzzy and small smudges of black still around his eyes.

“why aren’t ya’ letting me touch ye’?” his words slurred, it was an early morning, it looked to be around seven am, the sun showing its rays. you didn’t look at him, just shrugged. not wanting to speak about the nauseating thoughts that made you feel ill about yourself.

he knew. he seen the new mirror you got that faced your side of the bed, infront of your sleeping form. it’s like it’s mocking you, making you feel hurt about yourself. he didn’t want that, he didn’t need his girl to feel this way about herself.

so, he got up. leaving the warmth of the bed to grab the mirror and place it on the ground before moving to you, you sat up. frizzy hair from the bed. “what are you doing? i need that!” you say, frustrated but you know he’s doing it for you deep down. but your thoughts don’t think that.

he moved closer to you and looked at you, your eyes watering. you didn’t notice but he did and he hugged you. he wasn’t much of a hugger but it hurt to see his lovely hurt by her own body. he let go before you could hug him back. “your beautiful my love, i know how you think about yourself. but this here?” he rubbed his hands down to your stomach. “this shows how healthy you are, this won’t ever change the way i look at you. this just makes you so much more beautiful.”

“si.. it’s-“ he shushes you, “sh love. i love your tummy. i always will, its what made me fall in love with you. shows how you take care of yourself, your body is amazing and i love it, please let me show you how i see you?” he asked, always allowing you to back out but the way he looks at you makes you feel warm. he makes you feel loved, through and through.

“okay.. okay.” you speak softly, looking down. he grabbed your chin and held it up so you could look back at him. his rough lips met your own, he moved the blankets off of your body replacing the blankets with his body, his hands rested beside your head. you looked up at him with teary eyes, and he kissed your cheek.

“luv’ ya too much for you to be thinking of yourself like this.” he keeps kissing your lips, before stopping and leaning back his hands start to massage your thighs. your thighs tense a bit, hissing at how sore your thighs were before relaxing, slow jolts but relaxed enough. “can i take your panties off luv?” and you just nod. a simple nod.

he grabs the hem of your panties and as he peels of he see’s your fluid slowly spread apart against your underwear and wet pussy. he takes your underwear off. he starts gazing at your pussy lovingly; saying: “oh would you look at that.. she’s drooling huh? look at her-“ he pats the entrance of your pussy and when he removes his fingers and watches as your stickiness stretches from ur pussy to his fingers before the drool breaks. “she wants my fingers bad, doesn’t she?” you whine in response, inpatient. “shh it’s okay love, i’ll give her what you want.”

he starts to push a finger into your sticky cunt. he moves it in and out while his left hand rests against your thigh, pushing them up to get a slightly better angle. he hears you breath hitch. just a bit before prodding that soft spot. “oh yeah- this the spot, ain’t it?” and you just nod and let out small moans, your breathing growing rapid. “si- simon, hoo fuck.”

simon pushed another finger into your wet, slick pussy and just starts going a bit faster and angling his fingers better to really get you to cum hard for him. to make you feel so fucking good you’ll forget about how you even got to this point. he just licks his lips at the sight of your pussy and groans, loudly. almost like a bellow.

it catches your attention and you see his boxers. his cock hard against the fabric. everytime he moves his tip just grinds against the fabric which makes him want to cum so badly, just pleasing you makes him wanna come so badly. no matter the circumstances or outcome he just loves, loves, loves pleasuring you.

“ohmygod, si im gonna cum, simon-“ he shushes you, “shh lovey you can come, come whenever you want, come on my fingers whenever.” and your gripping the sheets, all messy and bundled up in your hands, wrinkles showing in the sheets before your chest starts rising faster. “oh si- i’m cumming, fuck i’m cumming!” you say, picking your head up, then back down, doing that multiple times even throwing your head back. he’s not stopping.

“si, fucking shit it’s too much- wait, ohm-“ you felt a overwhelming sensation growing gin your stomach realizing what’s coming you don’t get to say anything- just a loud groan, you squirt. it gushes up and on his wrist, splashing down onto the bedsheets and he moans at the sight, watching how your squirt just keeps going until it stops after a few seconds.

you don’t even get to regain composure before you feel his tongue on your clit, he’s laying flat against the bed now. you didn’t even feel him rest against your thigh or massage circles, atill up in your cloud as you just let out breaths from your lips. you look at him multiple times, and then look down.

you don’t even know what or how to stop raising your head but it feels too god that you just can’t stop. your chest moves up and down swiftly and you just cannot stop at all. his tongue keeps lapping at your clit and pussy as it gushes out fluids of arousal. he loves the taste of it, doesn’t know why but if he would be marked up with a scent. it’d be yours.

“simon..” you drawl out the ‘mon’ part in his name, and he hums which makes you gasp. “simon! no, thas’to much..” you whisper ‘to much’ multiple times and he chuckles at that, but you don’t feel it. you just feel a slight smirk against your pussy before he starts sucking up your juices. he groans at how you let him take everything from you. tasting you, manhandling you. anything.

“simon- simon, oh god simon.” he hums against your pussy, muttering something along the lines of “close?” and you nod vigorously and your thighs start locking themselves against his head. he starts to hear a small ringing before your thighs let go of his head, letting him hear your high pitched whimpers and whines.

then, you cum. all along his face and tongue. feeling like your past cloud nine and on some other cloud in the sky, but definitely past cloud nine. he’s swift. didn’t even feel him get up and grab a rag, using it to clean up your sensitive body as well as dousing his face with water.

“here love, gonna roll you over a bit.” he smooches you over and puts a blanket on the wet patch he made on your sheets and he mutters something about how he’ll ’change it later today, just sleep and rest with him for a little while’ and you don’t even resist because your so tired yet thankful for letting simon show his love to you, through and through.

[illicitghoul]

you’re instagram if you were in the BAU (p2)

prt 2 that nobody asked for 🥱 (this is so fun)

part 1 (linked below)

————————————————————————————

yourusername

liked by jen.jj45 and 46 others

yourusername JJ LOVE CLUB (i am also in jj love club but they all voted me to take the photo 💔)

pennycia and you did a great job 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

yourusername i love you pen 💌

pennycia I LOVE YOU MOST Y/N

derek.m0rg4n @spencer.re1d i love you

spencer.re1d Stop lying for social media clout

derek.m0rg4n fuck you AND your fuck ass haircut

prentiss.em LMFAO

prentiss.em we are such cuties some ppl wish they were us 🥱

yourusername @prentiss.em real asf

yourusername

liked by elliegreenaway & others

yourusername me and spence were conjoined jellyfish in another life

spencer.re1d Can we be anglerfish

yourusername no? wtf is wrong with you

spencer.re1d 🥱🥱🥱🥱BORING

r0ssi81 that is a very interesting photo

yourusername YOU KNOW HOW TO COMMENT?

r0ssi81 you’re pushing it girl genius

yourusername you’re pushing something…

r0ssi81 when i find out how to block someone you are gone y/n

prentiss.em this is quite cute y/l/n 😭

yourusername you’re quite cute 🤫

prentiss.em send me toe pictures 😂😂😂😂

yourusername NO EMILY!!!!!!!!! (ill email them)

yourusername

liked by spencer.re1d and 51 others

yourusername my cute glowing girlfriend (idk who that random man is 🤷‍♀️ kinda scary)

prentiss.em yeah that is really weird 🥱 anyway i love u wifey mwah mwah

yourusername ugh ily lets go frolic in a field or smth

spencer.re1d Yeah that is really scary - be careful guys

spencer.re1d OH MY I LOOK LIKE A GHOST 😁😁

jen.jj45 it’s like i can still hear his voice…

yourusername :( i miss his cute smile

prentiss.em 🎉

spencer.re1d @prentiss.em You aren’t funny

pennycia 😭😭😭😭

prentiss.em ok comedy police spencer reid????

jen.jj45 shes like an angel !!!!!!

prentiss.em I LOVE YOU JENNIFER 🙁🙁

yourusername

liked by aaron.hotchner and 37 others

yourusername i said serve and they devoured

spencer.re1d Slay !

prentiss.em y/n meant to say i devoured and you kind of chewed…

spencer.re1d Can you stop harassing me?

prentiss.em i kiss your girlfriend on days that end in y

yourusername TRUTH 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

pennycia what cuties!!! seeing their smiles makes me so happy!!!!!!

spencer.re1d You’re my best friend

derek.m0rg4n everytime you speak it breaks my heart

jen.jj45 HAHAAH WHAT

pennycia CRYING

yourusername

liked by elliegreenaway and 43 others

yourusername my bag broke before i left spences 🙁

spencer.re1d Sigh…. the theory for a broken bag means you have to stay where it broke 🤷‍♂️ i dont know i just heard that

derek.m0rg4n my bag broke in your heart… why won’t you let me stay

yourusername you ate with that one derek

yourusername broke bag mountain

elliegreenaway @yourusername LMFAO

pennycia i’ll fix it for you!!! come over girlie!!!

yourusername omw!!!!!

yourusername

liked by derek.m0rg4n and 49 others

yourusername day out with my four wives

pen : fanny pack with snacks and a book

jj : losing her mind (too warm)

em : complaining 🥱

me : having a good time :)

aaron.hotchner I hope you all worn sunscreen

yourusername yes 🫡

prentiss.em 🥱

pennycia i had a great day!!! (i read 3 pages)

jen.jj45 i am LOSING it the HEAT i am gonna COMBUST

derek.m0rg4n @spencer.re1d @aaron.hotchner @r0ssi81 could be us

r0ssi81 I am busy for the foreseeable future

dreak.m0rgan @spencer.re1d @aaron.hotcher

at least rossi replied…

[cjrights]

part one: over you - paige bueckers

previous ➔ next. blue masterlist

lyric: “id like to mean it when i say im over you”

pairing: paige bueckers x oc

warnings: language, small pain infliction, anxiety talk, (both for literally one second) pining, underage drinking

an: hey fam 😋 im so sorry this took so long, and this chapter is not the most interesting! i promise its going to make more sense later let me cookkk :) thank you for reading and enjoy — for context: caroline has a dog named murphy & paige is purple and calista is orange for the texting portions

word count: 2.1k

the radio softly plays as paige grips the steering wheel. i look over at her, laying against the headrest.

i hum along to the radio as i look at paige’s nose. it’s a perfect slope, and it takes everything in me to not reach out and trace it.

my eyes subconsciously move to her lips, which paige is chewing on, eyes fixated on the road.

i wonder what it would be like to… oh my god. stop it. that’s your best friend.

i wonder what’s going on inside her head. my head is really a sea of confusing thoughts. sadness, anger, confusion, exhaustion.

why is she perfect? why am i like this? get a fucking grip. hold it together.

“cali? you okay?” paige glances over at me, while still trying to pay attention while she’s driving.

“hm? yeah. im okay, just… tired.” i hope my pause wasn’t too suspicious, but paige is oblivious and nods. “i understand. do you wanna talk about it? i really wanna know what happened.”

i sigh and ball my hands into fists, stabbing my nails into my palms. this is something i do to help me calm down whenever my anxiety is high. paige doesn’t know about it.

“i… okay. let’s go back to the beginning.”

6 HOURS EARLIER

december 15th, 2022 - 7:32 PM

“i love you more.”

“no, i love you more.”

“not possible. i definitely love you more.”

“can you guys stop? im trying to eat over here, you’re gonna make me barf.” i look over from my phone to shoot daggers at my roommate nia. she has a look of absolute disgust on her face.

“king, literally bite me.” you say before blowing her a kiss. nia sticks up her middle finger, smiling condescendingly. “bitch. you know… there’s a party tonight. i think one of your little boyfriend’s minions is throwing it.”

i shake my head. “nia, it’s like you don’t know me at all.” nia rolls her eyes and flops her body off of the couch. “you did that to me. just so you know.”

i sigh. “are you proposing something? or just whining?” nia chuckles. “you're coming with me to that party tonight.”

an objection comes from the person im on the phone with. “um, she can’t! she’s very busy dog sitting murph.” i purse my lips as i run my fingers through the ball of fur laying on my lap.

“baby, not anymore. it’s my last day with murphy. carol is coming to pick him up in about 30 minutes.” i take my lower lip in between my teeth. “maybe i will go. i mean, what’s the harm?” i see my boyfriend’s eyes widen through the phone.

“HELL YEAH!” nia squeals. “this is gonna be so fun babe. screw you cole.” cole scoffs through the phone. “whatever bro. im hanging up. king, when i catch you it’s on sight.” i giggle. “yeah okay. whatever you say.” nia comments sarcastically.

as soon as i hang up, nia takes my face into her hands. “calista, we gotta get you ready. you’re gonna look so fucking hot.”

8:37 PM

“are you on aux? can i have it please?” i finger the aux cord between my pointer and middle finger, jutting my bottom lip out. nia covers her eyes. “don’t give me no puppy dog eyes. that’s not gonna work on me.”

i groan in frustration. “i don’t know your shit. im trying to get ready and pregame in peace. not in… whatever the fuck your music is.”

“bitch, my music is glorious. plus this is expanding your music taste. win-win for you cali.” nia pulls her goddess braids up into a half up half down. “what are you doing with your hair?” she throws her arms down In exasperation.

“yeah okay ni.” i cock my eyebrow. “i was just gonna leave it down. does it not look good?” i scrunch my brown curly hair, examining the minor frizz at the top.

“no, it looks good. i was just wondering because-” nia is interrupted by my phone ringing. the contact name:

“p 💗”

i smile and pick it up. “hi paige.”

“hey kiddo. i heard about the party tonight. can you please come?” she’s already begging. damn.

“im one step ahead of you. im going.”

i can hear and feel her shock through the phone.

“im sorry, what? you, calista elani hart, are going to a party? and i didn’t even have to ask you? who are you? cause this is not my cali girl.”

i snicker and lay back in my chair. nia is eyeing me menacingly. “put it on speaker.” nia mouths silently.

i roll my eyes and pull the phone away from my ear to put it on speaker.

“it’s me p. im feeling adventurous. it’s the holiday season. i feel like something’s going to happen tonight, and i am sure as hell not gonna miss it.”

paige chuckles. “okay, it’s definitely you. you’re my favorite fomo warrior. im here for you kiddo.”

“shut the fuck up paige. you’re mean. im hanging up.” paige whines. “don’t be like that. im just joking. hey, we pregaming at my place or what?” i look back over at nia. she shrugs and nods.

“yeah perfect. nia’s coming, is that cool?”

“sounds great. i know someone who really wants to see her.” nia must’ve forgotten that paige wasn’t aware of the fact she was on speaker, because she shrieks. “hold the fucking phone. who wants to see me?”

i smack my hand on my forehead and let it run down my face.

“wowwww. speaker phone? really? am i another one of your hoes?” paige sighs and pretends to start sobbing. “i thought you were different.”

“you’re annoying as fuck. we’ll see you at nine?”

“i love you too. text me when you’re on the way please.”

i hang up the phone and sigh, bringing my eyelash curler to my eyes. “what are you smiling so big for? nia sneers at me. she leans her body against my bed and crosses her arms over her chest.

“what? im not.” i laugh nervously. i definitely am. “okay girl, whatever you say.”

as im sitting at my vanity, i turn around in my chair to look at her. “stop making fun of me. it’s not nice.” “girl. im not making fun of you. i just think… hm. do you remember that one night? between you and paige?”

my stomach lurches at her comment. “nia, don’t. we were drunk. it meant nothing to paige so it means nothing to me. end of story.” nia throws up her hands. “alright. i understand. i just think y’all need to talk about it again. clear the air… you know?”

i frown. “i think that’s the exact opposite of what we need. we’re finally good again.” i lick my lips. “whatever. i don’t wanna talk about this anymore. im ready whenever you are.”

nia nods. “cool. im ready now.”

8:49 PM

On my way!

fuck

Wow! You’re so excited!

hush

LOL see you soon

9:00 PM

i walk up the long staircase to paige’s dorm room. i have my black heels in my hand, so im barefoot.

“damn what floor does blondie live on? im tired from these stairs.” i chuckle. “she lives on the top floor. it’s only 4 flights nia, you’ll live.”

“will i? im wiped as fuck. maybe i need to take my shoes off too.” i shrug as we finally reach the top floor. i start to walk down the hallway, reaching her room. i let out a shaky breath and knock on the door.

“you good? what are you so nervous for?” i look over at her. “w-what? im not nervous! im fine.” nia raises her eyebrows in a “yeah OHkay” expression.

the door swings open and a slightly shorter girl stands in front of me. she smiles and god that smile. that stupid fucking smile. she glances down at my feet. “why are your shoes off kiddo?”

i giggle. “cause. i had to walk all the way up here.” i push past her and walk into her dorm, shivering at her stare. she doesn’t notice.

paige looks nia up and down, biting her lip. “hey nia. you look good.” nia rolls her eyes practically into the back of her head. “good fucking bye. you think you’re so funny bueckers.” paige smirks. “i am funny.”

“whatever helps you sleep at night.” nia says as she walks in behind me. paige shakes her head and shuts the door, grinning.

all of a sudden a head of curly black hair walks out of the bathroom. “oh hey! you guys are right on time.”

“hey azzi.” i beam. azzi is genuinely one of the prettiest and most kind girls ive ever met. her smile lights up any room she walks in, and there’s really something about her personality that makes her so easy to be around.

“hey cali.” azzi cheeses back. “you pregaming with us?” i ask, nudging her in the shoulder. before she can answer, paige interrupts. “she’s not. she’s a baby, im not letting her drink.” she sticks her tongue out at azzi.

“wow, very mature. you should definitely be the one drinking here. and im not a baby! im 20. you’re an asshole.” nia giggles. “clock her shit az.” nia then holds up a finger to paige’s face.

“hold on, by your logic i cant drink either. but you sure as hell don’t look like my mama, so im not listening to you.” paige scoffs. “well excuse me for looking out for you two.” she steps over towards me, slinging an arm around my shoulder. “me and calista aren’t your mommies. we don’t wanna be responsible if anything happens.”

i turn a horrifying shade of crimson red.

she’s so warm. even though she’s wearing that dumb blue crop top that covers none of her skin, she’s so fucking warm. why am i thinking about this? cole. your boyfriend. you have a boyfriend calista. this is your best friend since the sandbox. hell, since diapers.

“y-yeah.” fuck. i clear my throat. nia covers her smile with her hand. “we love you guys, but we aren’t babysitting you. or bailing you out of jail.”

azzi walks over to nia and mimicks paige, slinging her arm over nia’s shoulder. for some reason, nia seems to shrink in size. “we don’t need you guys to bail us out. me and king look out for each other. isn’t that right?” she smirks at nia, who is nodding ferociously. “we will be attached at the hip. y’all do not need to worry about us.”

me and paige look at each other. i cock my eyebrow.

“you’re seeing this right?” i say with my eyes.

paige nods, and i sigh.

“whatever. paige, pour us shots please.” paige removes her arm from my shoulder, and i shudder at the loss of heat.

“yes ma’am.” paige salutes as she walks into her kitchen. i roll my eyes and follow behind.

9:48 PM

“kiddo, it’s pregame, you need to calm down.” paige puts her hand on my shoulder and furrows her eyebrows in concern.

i wipe my mouth after downing my 3rd shot. of tequila. “what? paigey im fine.” i brush her hand off my shoulder. “how many did y’all have?” “one.” nia and azzi say in unison, looking at each other and giggling.

i frown and look at paige. “i didn’t have any.” she holds up her keys. “unless you wanna walk?”

i purse my lips. “whatever. let’s just go please.”

1:56 AM

paige pinches the skin on the bridge of her nose, leaning against the window. she has one hand on the steering wheel. “okay cali. as much as i’m loving the replay, i was there for this part. you still haven’t explained what happened. why were you crying?”

i groan. “god, you’re so impatient. can’t you see im building to get there?”

paige rolls her eyes. “im trying to be patient. you’re my best friend and you’re obviously going through something. but can we get to the good part?”

i pull my knees to my chest in the passenger seat. “the good part? my trauma is just a story to you?” i fake pout.

“you know that’s not what i- wait. are you not buckled?” i punch her arm. “shut up. is that really what you’re concerned about right now?”

she sighs. “i guess not. go on please. and buckle? im not trying to get pulled over with a drunk unbuckled girl in my car.”

i nod. “thank you. and ill tell MY story how i want to tell it.” i put my feet on the ground and grab my seatbelt. i pull it over me and shove it into the buckle until i hear a click.

thank you for reading! with love, cj ᡣ𐭩

tags: @iminlovewithpaigebueckers @sunkissed-zegras @bueckersstrap @ijustlovepinky @xxloveralways14