#i have a big interview on wednesday and it's eating me up inside a little bit

[willosword]

oh boy. Nervous o_o

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 16

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 6.3k

Recommended song: “The Thrill” by Wiz Khalifa & Empire of the Sun

Your Saturday gets off to a great start when you spot Sylvie lurking in the corner of the garage. The woman pointedly raises an eyebrow at you when she notices you, the simple action setting you on edge. You glare at her in return, having none of it while Pierre suits up.

"Take care of this for me, will you?" Pierre places his cap backwards on your head. You smile, adjusting it so it's out of your eyes.

"I will." You glance over his shoulder before chastely kissing his cheek. You'd deal with Sylvie later; Pierre didn't need any distractions when he was about to get out on track.

"Nope, not acceptable." Pierre kisses your lips, completely unaware of the shit you'd likely catch as soon as he was gone because of it. 

You sigh and take half a step back. Having none of it, Pierre places a knuckle under your chin, tipping your face towards him.

"Sylvie making you nervous?" The pad of his thumb sweeping over your jaw gives you something solid to focus on. "I can ask her to leave if she is."

You shake your head. "Not nervous, no. But she's getting under my skin."

Pierre sets down his helmet and waves off Pyry who tries to shove it back in his hands, prepared to address the matter and hash out a solution immediately. "What's going on?"

"It's not a big deal," you try, "I can tell you after practice. You've only got a few minutes until lights out."

"I want to know now, mon amour."

Fighting was pointless. He would stand here until you spilled the beans so you might as well get it over with so he could get out on track. "Fine. Sylvie cornered me Thursday and asked me to lay low this weekend because of some interview you did. She gave me a copy of it but I didn't read it. She said it's bad for your image to be seen doting on me when you've got races to win."

Pierre blinks, head swiveling in slow motion. Sylvie watches your interaction like a hawk, waiting for either of you to slip up. "And you kept this to yourself?"

"I didn't want to distract you. You've got a job to do." A blush creeps up your neck and settles on the apples of your cheeks. "Sylvie was mad enough at me, I didn't want her in your face too."

A muscle in his jaw ticks. "That's bullshit. I stood up for you. That's why she's pissed. I told them you were just as important to me as racing."

Your heart somersaults in your chest. "You said that in an interview? Pierre, that's-"

Pierre drops Sylvie's stare and meets yours. "I love you and I won't apologize for it. I don't have time to talk to her now though- are you okay being here with her until after practice?"

"I'll be okay as long as you top the time charts," you tell him, a smile playing on your lips. When you'd gotten back together you had told yourself nothing would come between the two of you again, up to and including nosy PR agents who couldn't keep their hands out of your business.

"I will, just for you." Helmet in hand, he pecks your cheek before heading to the car. Pierre shoots Sylvie a glare and says something to Pyry before clambering into the car.

Pyry doesn't leave your side for the entirety of practice, chasing off Sylvie each time she tries to approach you. Pierre nearly tops the charts, sitting second fastest on the famed street circuit. Only Max clocked a faster time, which didn't surprise anyone. Pierre's side of the garage erupts when he is wheeled inside and is met with claps on the back and wide smiles from his team.

Confidence radiates from him as he peels off his helmet and thanks his team. A grin from ear to ear splits his face as he makes his way to you before he even bothers to unzip his suit. Before you know it he's swept you in his arms and planted a kiss on your lips.

"It's not first, but I'll take second if you're waiting here when I get back."

"It's only practice," you remind him, swiping away a bead of sweat from his neck with the pad of your thumb. "But you drive like that for quali in a few hours and you might get your first pole."

"What did I tell you?" Sylvie hisses, ruining the moment and sending you crashing back to earth. 

Instead of falling into line, Pierre's grip on your waist tightens. "Leave her alone, Sylvie."

"This isn't good for you," the woman insists. "People are saying you've gone soft-"

"I don't care what they say. My results speak for themselves." And they did. Second fastest today in practice, despite Monaco being a track that Pierre generally had a poor record at. "When I start slipping to the back of the pack you can talk to me about it. But even then it's out of your wheelhouse. I don't care what the gossip columns have to say about me-"

Pierre breaks off and you can see the pieces clicking in his head. "You've never cared either, not even when I got demoted. Horner put you up to this, didn't he?"

Sylvie straightens under the weight of Pierre's question, good enough as giving him an answer. "I have a job to do."

"And so do I." His words freeze over, his attitude icy. "How about you back off and let me do it? I don't need another person breathing down my neck. And she certainly doesn't either. And you know what? I'll make you a deal. If I win tomorrow, you leave us alone and keep your nose out of my personal life."

"You'll thank me when your name is out of the tabloids." Bewildered, you stare after her until Pierre's lips meet your temple, the simple gesture sending a tingle down your spine.

"I wish it was easier for us," you murmur, placing a hand on his broad chest as if you were the only two in the garage. "But as long as I have you, it's worth the fight."

"Don't let it get to you. You make me a better racer, no matter what anyone says. You taught me that I have something to fight for. You're the one that picks me up when I don't think I can make it. Without you, I probably would've blown my chance at taking seventh in the championship."

"And I'm the one that tells you when it's time to get your ass back in the car and race your heart out." You grin up at him, not caring for a second who was watching this time when you kiss him. "I expect you to be a pole sitter next time you're back in this garage. I might have already told my mom it was happening, so don't make me a liar."

"If I take pole, will you wear my cap again tonight? Just my cap?"

"That could be arranged."

**********

Pierre may not have taken pole, but qualifying fifth was more than enough reason to treat him to fulfilling his request. With only the Red Bulls, Charles and Hamilton ahead of him, you were confident he could at minimum hold his position, and at best his team would come up with a strategy that saw him undercut one or two of the guys ahead and put him on the podium.

As usual, Pierre gets to the circuit a few hours early to clear his head and walk the track one last time. Since it’s not a mandatory part of his race preparation, you take the opportunity to walk with him. The clouds part just enough for the sun to shine down on him, practically glowing in the light. Apparently not even the celestial bodies were immune to his beauty, coming out solely to appease him. Your gaze eats up the curve of his throat as he tips his head back to enjoy the golden rays warming his skin.

“Beau Rivage,” he murmurs as you come up to the right hand bend. “One of the few spots for overtaking, if you’re lucky.” Pierre studies the pavement, noting where patches of gravel had built up and toeing them with his shoe. His commitment was something to behold; not even Max could be bothered with a track walk on Wednesday, and forget about waking up with the dawn to participate in an optional one on race day.

Pierre was different though, throwing himself into the sport and refusing to commit anything less than a hundred percent. That commitment was one of the things that had drawn you to him in the first place and continued to be something you admired. You missed him when you were apart, but hearing the thrill in his voice when he spoke about racing lines or braking points never failed to remind you that he was living his dream and you would never stand in his way.

You thread your fingers through his, soaking it in as he walks you through the track. This wasn’t an opportunity you had often and you were determined to embrace and enjoy it.

“Massenette and Casino Square. This braking zone is tricky, if you go too wide you’ll lose seconds of time and probably a good chunk of your front wing, unless by some miracle you miss the barrier.”

Having little to offer to his assessment, you rest your head on his shoulder as you walk. You try to see the track through his eyes, picturing the cockpit around you as you attempt to pick out an adequate braking point.

You continue on in amiable silence, stopping once or twice so Pierre can take pictures with fans and chat with them. Eventually you come to a corner you recognize, one of the most infamous.

“I know this one.” You puff out your chest, holding an imaginary microphone to your lips. “The Lowes hairpin. Slowest corner on the calendar. The cars decelerate to 65 kph, a feat achieved nowhere else.”

Pierre throws his head back and laughs, making your heart stutter. You never wanted to go another day without hearing the full-bellied sound, rich and rife with more happiness than should be humanly possible. “You only know that because Crofty and Brundle bring that up every race, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” You beam back at him when he shakes his head, the action more to say I knew it than to express disappointment. Because he could never be disappointed in you, especially not for taking an interest in what he loved. You tended to queue up archived races to listen to in the background as you studied, meaning it was inevitable that some of the quips from the commentators rubbed off on you sooner or later.

“Now this is my favorite,” Pierre says, adjusting his cap to keep the sun out of his eyes.

“The swimming pool chicaines? Why?” They were considered boring by most racers, flat out but navigable by muscle memory if you’d had enough practice.

Pierre’s self assured grin leaves you in a puddle on the pavement. “Cause I’ll be jumping in that pool today, and I’m taking you with me.”

"I don't think so." You point to the hoodie you wore, one that you had stolen from his closet ages ago and since refused to give back under any circumstances. "I'm in irreplaceable gear. I don't want to ruin it."

Pierre rolls his eyes, dropping your hand in favor of slinging an arm around your shoulders. "I love it when you wear my clothes. My hat yesterday, my hoodie today, anything really. I love having that claim on you."

"If only I could get you to wear some of mine," you muse as the pit boxes come into view. 

"If you ask nicely, I'd consider it."

The garage is thrumming with anticipation before Pierre even enters. Checo’s engine penalty is all anyone can talk about, his subsequent start from the pit lane meant Pierre would effectively move up a place and start fourth.

Pierre is whisked away as soon as Tost spots him, the warm old man greeting you before stealing your boyfriend away. You know your way around well enough to be comfortable, staking out your spot along the back wall to observe the team's preparations. The early wake up call was quickly catching up with you however, your lack of movement causing you to stifle a yawn with the back of your hand.

"You look like you could use a coffee."

A young woman about your age steps into your line of sight and holds out a steaming foam cup. "Er, sure, thanks."

"Alana," she says, sticking her hand out for you to shake. "I'm one of the junior engineers for the team. I've seen you around once or twice, I figured it was about time I introduced myself."

"Thank you for the coffee, Alana." You lift the cup in mock salute and take a sip, the contents rich and flavorful. "I swear, I don't know what you guys lace this with, but it's addictive as hell."

The two of you share a laugh that earns you a few confused glances. "I think we're gonna be great friends," she says, tapping her own cup against yours. "It's nice to see another woman around the paddock. Sometimes it gets a little testosterone heavy."

You nod, taking another swig. You can practically feel the caffeine working, already a little more alert than you were minutes ago. 

"It's great luck." 

"Pierre moving up a place?"

Alana laughs, her ponytail swaying as she shakes her head. "No, I meant you being able to attend the race. You picked the best weekend to be trackside, the podium celebrations are the best."

Pierre startles you by snaking an arm around your waist and planting a kiss on your cheek.

"There's our star," Alana says, her smile bright and optimistic. "Better bring your team another trophy! The next one is going in the engineering department, they already have a little plaque made up and everything. I can see it right from my desk."

"Oh I'll bring one home," he replies, his hand casually grazing your ass as he moves to stand beside you. "I already promised her I would and I'm a man of my word."

"I know you will." 

"You have those time tables I asked about?"

"They're in the engineering suite." Alana hooks a thumb over her shoulder and smiles at you. "You're welcome to come back with us. He concentrates better when you're around anyway."

"Are you sure?" Red Bull never let you anywhere near proprietary data. You and any of Max's guests had always been corralled into the vip suite with the occasional venture down into the garage when they were wrapping up.

"You're part of the family," Alana explains as if it was obvious. "Of course I'm sure."

Pierre grins and gives your hand an encouraging squeeze. His team knew he wanted you near and they were willing to bend the rules to make it happen. "We'll try not to bore you to death." 

You sit through a half hour worth of numbers and codes you didn't understand, your arm slung around the back of Pierre's chair. He offers tidbits and asks questions while Alana and the other engineers walk him through scenarios, ensuring he has everything down. The way he spoke was quite possibly the hottest thing you've ever had the pleasure of witnessing, aside from post race Pierre with his sweaty hair sticking up in every direction and an adrenaline infused smile on his red cheeks.

Before you know it the two of you are ushered off to his driver's room, Pierre changing into his fireproofs and suit while you treat yourself to some of the snacks lying about. Pyry knocks just as Pierre zips his suit up to his chin.

"Hunt 'em down," you say, resting your forehead to his and stealing a moment for the two of you.

"Always do."

And god, does he ever.

Ten laps in, Hamilton is complaining about the balance of his Mercedes, the gap between himself and Max is only a few seconds and rapidly decreasing. The headphones you wear allow you to catch snips of driver radio and team communications, and you gather that Hamilton is slowly losing power. No one is sure if it's an electronics issue or an engine issue but they aren't complaining either.

Flawless pit stops from most teams see little shift in track positions, Pierre still holding fast to P4 a little over halfway through the seventy eight laps. Alpha's stellar strategy sees him rejoin fifth after sliding into the pits for a set of mediums to take him to the end of the race.

"Gap to Norris three seconds ahead," comes the voice in your ear. 

Pierre clings tight to the rear of Lando's papaya McLaren ahead, using DRS to his advantage and practically toying with the younger racer, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

Three short laps later, Pierre skirts around the McLaren at Beau Rivage and reclaims fourth.

Hamilton's ability to stretch tire performance to the maximum means he gets ten more laps before he's in the pits, Max closing in on his track position. The Mercedes crew stumbles, the pit stop more than twice as long as it should be, and Hamilton rejoins fourth.

"In the podium places," Pierre's engineer states.

Seconds later, white smoke pours from Max's Red Bull and he pulls off, causing a yellow flag and bunching up the pack.

P2, with only the Ferrari standing between Pierre and a win.

"Easy pickings Pierre, choose your moment."

Your heart pounds and your nails bite into your palms as Pierre goes around the outside at the hairpin, the entire garage shouting when he somehow gets away clean and the Monegasque backs off enough for Pierre to take the lead.

"P1 mate, two laps to go, two laps."

Pierre's brisk copy tells you all you need to know. He wasn't about to let this win slip through his fingers. Neck craned up at the screen, you watch as Pierre fights tooth and nail to fend off his friend, gasping audibly when a slight lockup nearly causes the two to collide around a chicane.

When he crosses the line, all you hear is a staticy scream.

Pierre Gasly, you are a Monaco Grand Prix winner!

It almost doesn't feel real how everyone around you begins jostling for the podium, their momentum carrying you along. A combination of luck and skill had seen him skyrocket to the top.

When you finally catch a glimpse of him in parc ferme, he stands atop the halo, arms spread wide amongst the deafening cheers of both Red Bull sister teams. Pressed between sweaty bodies, his team all push to the front to be the ones to congratulate him. 

You blink back hot tears. Pierre had fought incredibly hard to be on that top step, not just today but the entire season. Being demoted from Red Bull last year had been a backhanded blow, one that when coupled with his insistence on going back to the team in the future had warranted a feeding frenzy of media that ebbed and flowed as rumors surfaced. He'd been under the microscope ever since, struggling to keep his head above water but managing to come out on top.

Someone pushes you forward just as he takes off his helmet, his grin wild and unrestrained. Your mouth is open, his name on the tip of your tongue when a hand closes around your arm.

"This isn't your moment," Sylive says, near shouting to be heard over the roar. "No one wants to see you up there in the frame. This is his podium, let the media see that."

This woman really wanted to be knocked out, didn't she?

"He just won the prix." Dumbfounded at her audacity, you shake your head. "Leave us alone, he won."

"He could win the championship and I would still tell you to back off. There's hundreds of cameras out there, do you even have it in you to hold yourself together when they're all flashing at you?"

If she had asked you that question a few months ago, the answer would have been no, absolutely not. Now that you'd been to hell and back it was an entirely different story. You could walk through the throng and come out the other side unscathed if you had your best friend and partner at your side. He would shield you for the worst of it, be their punching back in order to make the burden bearable.

"Sylvie, if you don't get your hands off me-"

"Oh, sure," she says, releasing you with a smile. "He's already gone anyway. I only needed a minute."

Brow furrowed, you investigate her claim to find the truth of it. Pierre was already being herded away towards the podium, toweling off the residual sweat and setting his helmet on the provided stand. He throws one last glance over his shoulder before climbing the steps to the podium, his baby blue eyes cloudy when they should have been sunny.

Pierre's team principal calls your name as the boys take their places on the steps, gesturing for you to join him at the barriers. "Where were you? He was looking for you."

"No, I know," you start, shaking your head and gazing up at your racer. "Sylvie has it in her head that I shouldn't be photographed with him-"

"Say no more," Tost says, then pauses as the crowd claps. "I've never liked her."

"You and me both," you say under your breath as the anthems play. 

Pierre's hungry gaze scours the crowd for you, hands folded neatly behind his back while he bounces on his feet. When he finally spots you in Tost's shadow his shoulders straighten the tiniest bit, like he had been half expecting you to be absent. The pride in his posture is reflected in your smile, a fact that he picks up on and leverages to shine even brighter. 

Absently, you register the shutter of a camera going off as you beam up at Pierre. Your winner locks eyes with you before popping the cork of his champagne and spraying his fellow podium sitters, Daniel and Charles, before taking a long swig. Daniel blows a kiss to his girlfriend who mimes catching it and tucking it away while Pierre simply wraps Charles in an embrace, marveling in their first shared Formula 1 podium.

Pierre is surprisingly the first to leave, stalking off with his trophy and bottle in hand before the cameras have even stopped rolling. You track his progress, the crowd slowing him like he was a marble trying to sink through molasses. His thanks are short, his smile tight as he makes his way to you, eyes locked on his target and utterly unwilling to yield.

You meet him at the barrier which you still haven't been allowed to cross thanks to security taking their job far too seriously. Pierre doesn't care, tucking his trophy under his arm and unhooking a section so that you can slip through.

A laugh bubbles out of you when he wraps you in a bone crushing hug, lifting you off your feet and spinning in circles. Taking his face in your hands you kiss him passionately, wholly aware of the cameras on you. This was your moment to share with him; your universe had narrowed to his arms around you and the sweat-slick skin beneath your fingers.

"Congratulations," you murmur against his lips. "How's it feel to be a Monaco grand prix winner?"

"Better now that I've gotten to hear you say it." The brim of his Pirelli cap gets in the way when he tries to kiss you again and he turns it around.

"You gonna celebrate tonight, race winner?" The endearment works just as you had wanted it to, pride and something more primal flashing in his eyes.

His voice drops, his wicked grin already causing heat to pool in your core. "I have a few ideas."

"Me too." Now that the crowd has disappeared somewhat, you grow bold and nip at his lower lip. It sends a thrill through you to rile him up so publicly, his fingers tightening on your hips in surprise.

"Mon amour, you stop that right now." The slight shake in his voice betrays his true feelings. "I still have to weigh in and debrief."

"Maybe I want you thinking of me while you're there." You wrap your arms around his neck, grinning when he gulps. "Thinking of all the things I'll let you do when you get back to the apartment. Charles will be gone all night partying with Ferrari, I'm sure. We'll have the place to ourselves."

"We've got a full night ahead of us." He grins, tongue darting out over his lips. "We've got the winners dinner too."

You tip your head to the side. "Winners dinner? I don't-"

Someone calls his name and you both look in their direction. A race official, clearly fed up with your little display of love, waves Pierre over.

"Duty calls." Reluctantly, Pierre sets you back on your feet and passes off the champagne before he retreats to answer questions or whatever it was the official needed from him.

Watching him walk away, all you can think about is getting him back to the apartment. But first, you'd drag it out as much as he'd let you.

*********

Pierre spends the entirety of the debrief locked in an unending battle between thinking of you in compromising positions and actually giving feedback to his team. It wasn't his fault that you planted the seed in his mind; he couldn't help but expand on what your dirty little lips had whispered in his ear once he finally found you after the podium. 

"Okay, I think that's all we have. See you all at the pool in an hour," Alina says, and Pierre practically rips off his headset and sprints back to his driver's room. He bursts in without stopping to knock, earning him a yelp as you drop your phone on your face.

"Ow. A warning would be nice."

"I don't care," Pierre breathes, locking the door behind him and crossing to where you lay on the couch in a few long strides. "I've got an hour till I'm due to make an appearance for the cameras at the pool, care to make it memorable?"

"Oh, I don't know." You pick your phone back up and continue scrolling through it after giving him a once over. Leaving his race suit on and half undone served dual purposes: he didn't have to change again before the photo op at the pool and it drove you crazy. Apparently, his plan hadn't worked as well as he had hoped. "I kinda like seeing you all worked up."

"Come on," he practically whines, dropping to his knees to meet your glinting eyes. "Please?"

"I think you can wait." The corners of your mouth tug up and it's all he can do to resist leaning forward dragging your full bottom lip between his teeth. Energy still thrums through him, the adrenaline not yet faded.

Noting his stare, you roll your eyes. "Okay, one kiss-"

He doesn't let you finish, leaping on the opportunity to get a tiny sliver of what he wants. His tongue prods your lip and he groans when you open and allow him to explore. Hands glide over your hips while yours find his shoulders, nails digging in through the thin material of his fireproofs. Without breaking the kiss Pierre slots himself above you, a leg on either side of yours and caging your head between his forearms where they rest on the arm of the couch.

When he grinds his hips against yours in search of any sort of relief, you turn your head to the side. Pierre doesn't care, simply trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck. The building could be burning to the ground around him and he wouldn't move, too enraptured by you to be bothered.

"Pierre, my love, be patient." You push lightly at his chest and he finally breaks away, chest heaving. God, he needed you. Hadn’t stopped thinking about you once since he crossed that finish line in first. "Where's that unwavering self restraint you show on the track?"

"I'm not racing." He possessed no self restraint when it came to you. In your presence every sane thought flew out the window, replaced by the sound of your laugh and the shape your mouth made when you said his name.

"Waiting makes it sweeter," you tease, the phrase jangling something loose in his brain. He had said the same thing months ago when your roles had been reversed. If he could go back in time and slap himself upside the head for uttering those words, he would.

Pierre sits up with a huff and pulls you into his lap. "No fair. I just won a race, at Monaco no less, and you're gonna tell me I have to wait when you're sitting here looking perfectly edible?"

You tip your head back and laugh. "I am, because I know you'll enjoy it more tonight."

"But we have the drivers dinner too-"

You put a finger to his lips, which he immediately bites softly. "Be patient. I know you can do it, big boy."

Pierre groans, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his head fall forward to rest on your sternum. "I'm going to remember this."

Your traitorous fingers wind in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. "How about a massage while you wait, hmm? Would that calm some of this energy you've got built up?"

"No," he grumbles, pressing a kiss to your chest. "That'll make it worse."

"Well then I think it's a perfect idea." Pierre makes you work for it, forcing you to peel his hands off your hips one at a time before you can stand. "Fireproofs off and on your tummy, come on then."

Pierre obeys, eagerly tossing his shirt across the room. He knew he'd regret it and your teasing would leave his head spinning, but anything that got him closer to you was acceptable.

"Lay down." 

The command stirs something in his chest. He kisses you once before pillowing his arms under his head and allowing you to straddle his thighs. Your knuckles work at the stiff cords of muscle along his spine and he doesn't tamp down on the small noises of pleasure that start in the back of his throat. Once in a while you lean forward to press a kiss to his bare back, each one setting off a chain reaction in him that goes straight to his cock.

When you reach the base of his spine, he goes completely limp under your fingers. "Merde," he whispers, both a plea and a praise. "Right there, baby."

Something had been digging into his back during the race and it caused a knot to form by his left hip. A low moan escapes him before he can stop it and you hum in approval.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

"So good," is all he manages to get out around the noise in his brain. His head is filled with your touch, reducing him to ash beneath you. You work at the spot until it's pliable, sweeping your thumb over it once more for good measure. You finish up with his back and move to his arms, dancing over the swells of muscle like you'd been a masseuse your entire life.

"God, where did you even learn this? You're better than Pyry."

"YouTube. And that's because it's different when it's someone you love versus your trainer. I can drag it out and let you enjoy it more."

He's completely lost track of time when the alarm on his phone goes off, signaling the end of this current round of torture.

"You know you're coming with me to the pool," Pierre says matter of factly as you climb off him. He stands and rolls his shoulders, bouncing on his toes. "I feel like a brand new man."

You guide his fireproof shirt back over his head after retrieving it from wherever you'd tossed it earlier. You zip his race suit up with a wink that almost makes hims say fuck it and miss the event entirely. "Glad I could be of assistance."

Hand in hand, Pierre leads you through the paddock and falls in with the Alpha team as they head for the swimming pool. Being around his crew again brings the excitement of his win back to the surface and he's practically buzzing with it by the time they arrive at the gate. Journalists, photographers and a few of his fellow drivers mingle about the packed space, some of them clapping him on the back and offering praise. None of it truly registers until Max, usually hot-headed after a DNF like he had suffered today, pulls him in for a hug.

"Great racing, mate. You deserved that one, that's for sure."

"You better play nice with him next year Max." You wag your finger at the Dutchman, earning you a chuckle. "Or I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

"Now that's something I'd pay to see: you versus Christian Horner. A mighty fight."

Not wanting to jinx it, Pierre doesn’t comment on your confidence that he’ll be on Max’s team next year. His win today had seen him move up comfortably into eighth, and he was closing in on Lando quickly. As long as he played his cards right and finished higher up in the points, he was starting to think he could pull it off.

Pierre doesn't note Sylvie's approach until she clears her throat and all three of you turn in tandem. Pierre picks up on the way your demeanor instantly shifts from light and playful to defensive and he puts himself between the two of you.

"Photo op time."

"Right yeah." Pierre squeezes your hand in farewell and follows Sylvie to where a spot has been cleared at the head end. Standing there before the water, Daniel's dramatic belly flop comes to mind and Pierre knows he has to top that celebration or he'll never hear the end of it.

Someone- maybe you, he couldn't quite tell- starts a chant of his name, growing louder and louder until it reaches a fever pitch. His cheeks hurt from smiling so wide and he spreads his arms, his head falling back and eyes sliding shut as he lets the chant wash over him. Letting it sink in that he stood on the top step of the podium at the most legendary track in Formula 1, his name now joining the likes of Senna and Schumacher as Monaco grand prix winners.

He's drunk on it, on the screams and the shouts and the general feeling of being on top of the world and being untouchable.

Head dizzy, he searches for you, shooting you a wink when he spots you crouched right on the edge of the pool. God, you were gorgeous, wearing his hoodie with his logo splashed across the front and your cheeks flushed from the height of the moment.

Pierre takes a few steps back and gets a running start to leap into the pool, tucking his knees to his chest and cannonballing in. The water closes over his head and everything is dull for a split second before he pushes off the bottom and surfaces, cheers assaulting his senses in the best way.

Laughing, he shakes out his hair and poses for a few of the cameras pointed at him. In that moment he doesn't care what Sylvie or Christian or anyone for that matter thinks, all he wants is to share this euphoria with you, for you to be enthralled by it as he is.

The waterlogged suit makes it hard to swim but he manages, crossing to you and pushing off the concrete lip of the pool to capture your lips. Your hands immediately fly to cup his jaw as hoots and hollers surround the two of you as he irrevocably tells the world that you're his.

Alpha crew members take the kiss as their cue to jump in, splashing you with water as you laugh. Pierre doesn't give you a chance to protest, rising up and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you in with him.

You squeal in his arms, shoving against his chest as you both laugh. "Pierre!" His name on your tongue does nothing to dampen the feel of your waterlogged body against his, nowhere near as chastising as he knew you'd tried to sound. He loves you more than ever at that moment, wants to live here on this Sunday forever, replaying the past twelve hours for the rest of his life.

Celebrations continue around him, but he has eyes only for you. He studies the way your nose scrunches up when Alana splashes you and how droplets of water catch on your eyelashes.

Reaching out, he tucks a wet lock of hair behind your ear, garnering your attention. You ruffle Pierre's hair and he knows that you're just as caught up as he is.

Placing a hand on the back of your neck, he draws you in for another long, drawn out kiss. “You’re my trophy.”

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @lu-morningstar @ggaslyp1 @swiftyhowlz @xeniarocks @teenwaywardasgardian @saintandrea-droidsmuggler​

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future updates!

[mysterytickingegos]

Roadtrip

Pairing: Wilford Warfstache x Reader

Genre: Fluff. Like so god damn fluffy. The fluffiest thing this angst-lover will ever write. TOOTH ROTTING- okay you get the point.

Word Count: 1,710

Summary: Your relationship with the strange TV personality naturally leads to some pretty fun adventures, but this one might just go down in history as your favorite.

Anonymous Request: If you have time, could you please do 10, 17, and 20 with either Wilford or Yancy (and they/them pronouns)? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 I love your writing btw ❤️

Authors Note: I think it’s safe to say I’m out of the ficlet mindset after this one. I got an idea and got waaay carried away but hopefully no one minds!  Maybe a bit out of character? I’m not completely sure.

Want to read more?

[Image Description: A gif of Wilford Warfstache from the short “Warfstache Interviews Markipler” screwing with his hair. End Description.]

The sun wasn’t even up yet, that was your biggest concern. Not that there could be some kind of emergency but that someone had the audacity to knock on your door before the sun was even up. You swung the door open to see Wilford standing there, looking much more casual than usual and grinning the moment he saw you. “Good morning, sunshine! Ready to go?”

You sighed and let your defenses down. “To go?”

“Yes, to go! To go to the big thing in Chicago!”

“Yeah I remember that, I thought we were leaving at six thirty.”

“It is six thirty.” He said, glancing down at his watch to check.

You stared at him for a moment in sleepy confusion before it finally hit you. “You meant six in the morning??”

“Well of course I meant the morning, can you imagine the traffic that time of day?” He chuckled at the thought and let himself inside. “Besides, the network made it very clear I can’t miss this. Best not to take chances.”

“...You’re lucky you’re cute.” You grumbled, fighting back a yawn as you left to get dressed and grab the bag you packed the night before.

You’d been dating Wil for somewhere close to two years at this point, and you’d been friends for longer than that, and you still never had any idea what to expect from him. There was always a new adventure or shenanigans for him to pull you into, just waiting around the corner. This was one of those times.

When you came back downstairs he took your bag, and your hands in his once it was securely over his shoulder. “Come on, cheer up! I know you took the week off so I made sure this would be worthwhile, planned some stops, made sure we had plenty of time.”

You stopped to lock up your apartment before you two started walking downstairs. “What kind of stops?”

“Sweetheart, you are just gonna have to wait and see.” He told you with a wink.

MONDAY

If Wil hadn’t stopped at a gas station, you probably wouldn’t have been able to keep yourself awake at the start of the drive, but thankfully you took the opportunity to get yourself some caffeine and something for you both to eat. After that it was pretty fun, with music blasting and the windows cracked. Every half hour or so one of you would turn the music down and get into another conversation. You had both been so busy the past few months that you had plenty to talk about. Though, the entire time he made a point to keep a folded up piece of paper out of your reach.

The first detour was through the Las Vegas strip, the only stop being a cozy barbecue place off of an exit. But it was fun to see the grand casinos and attractions nonetheless.

“Okay, this is amazing,” You said, pointing to what was left of your sandwich. “What’s the story behind this place?”

“I’ve actually never been here before, just saw it had four and a half stars.” In the middle of his explanation, he swiped a fry off your plate. “I actually haven’t stayed in Vegas since before all the smart...google...haberdashery.”

You stopped halfway to taking a drink, biting back a smile. “Haberdashery?”

He smiled back, shaking his head at you. “Don’t start.”

“So you really planned this out then, huh?”

“Yeah! I have a whole list of places we’re stopping. Did you expect anything less from me?”

“I probably shouldn’t answer that.” You teased. He gasped in mock offense before both of you burst out laughing.

“Fair enough.”

Once you got back on the road it was an extremely long eight hours, at least in the second half after another gas station stop. Your legs were cramped up and the music was getting a bit tedious and had to be turned down. Wilford assured you it was the longest stretch in the whole trip, but even he was tired by the time you guys got to stop in a small Chinese restaurant on the border of Colorado.  “I should’ve picked a closer hotel.” He mumbled through a yawn, waiting somewhat impatiently on the ‘meal for two’ special. “I really didn’t think it’d be this late.”

“How far is it?” You asked, spinning your straw in your glass.

“‘Nother two hours, I think.”

You nodded, deciding to step in. “You could barely keep your eyes open when we pulled in, you should let me drive.”

“You’re probably right...” He seemed hesitant, but neither one of you wanted this to end in a car crash. “But don’t look at the list.”

“I won’t, I won’t. Jeez”

The next two hours were nice, as it was dark now and there were hardly any cars. It didn’t take more than a few minutes for Wilford to doze off in the passenger seat after he put in the next address and you played an audiobook at a low volume to keep yourself focused. Finally the GPS buzzed; “Your destination is on the left.”

You pulled into the lot of Riverwalk inn and nudged your partner’s shoulder until he finally started to stir. “Hey, c’mon we’re here.”

TUESDAY

You heard an alarm start going off on the other side of the bed and let out a groan, pulling a pillow over your head. “What time is it?”

“It’s eight, get up and get dressed and I’ll find someplace to eat.” And with that Wilford was up and out of bed, no problems.

You on the other hand... “We can’t even sleep in a little bit?”

“Not unless you want to start crossing places off the list, my dear.” He started going through his things to look for something new to wear. “We still have to make it there by Friday...for the thing.”

You grumbled some more, finally dragging yourself out of bed after hearing a couple promises of fresh coffee. “Wilford Warfstache, this ‘thing’ better be the best thing that’ll ever happen to you.”

“I already know it will be!” He said in a sing-song voice as you grabbed your bag and vanished into the bathroom.

“What’s the plan for today anyway?” You called out.

“Nothing much, a couple breaks here and there but it’ll take most of the day to get to-” You heard him cut himself off, “to...the next place. But things’ll get good tomorrow, I promise.”

And when you drove into Oklahoma city that night, you pondered all the possibilities.

WEDNESDAY

It was much easier to get up early, mostly out of excitement. After you two stopped at a random chain restaurant to get something for breakfast, you pushed for answers again. “Come on, you have to tell me now that we’re here.”

“Well, actually I couldn’t decide.”He tore his napkin in two and pull a pen out of what seemed to be thin air. You were about to ask if he even realized he did that, as he usually didn’t, but he held both his now-paper-filled hands out. “So, you pick. Left or right, whatever the paper says is what we’ll do.”

“Okay...left.”

He tossed the other paper over his shoulder and read what yours said. “Ooh good choice.” You tried to lean over the table to see it but he closed his hand quickly, leaning closer to you. “Now, Y/n, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you want to kiss me.”

“I’ll kiss you if you tell me where we’re going.”

He laughed at you and slipped out of the booth without hesitation. “Nope! Not ruining the surprise.”

He was very insistent that it didn’t happen, even convincing you to close your eyes once you were close. He guided you out of the car, and finally let you open your eyes. You looked up at the big green sign.

“OKC Zoo and Botanical Garden.”

“Oh my- are you serious?” You had to stop yourself from jumping up in excitement, and grabbed his hand to pull him inside.

You were still beaming hours after you two left, showing him how all the photos turned out over dinner in Kansas City.

THURSDAY

The audiobook had hit a lull, and you were too sick of pop music to switch it. Wilford was much more quiet than usual, so you kept to yourself for a while after lunch, eventually nodding off for a good half-hour.

“We made it!” Your boyfriend cheered, shutting off the car as you sat up straight. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t even realize.”

“Nah it’s fine. We’re here?”

“Yep! We are officially, finally in Chicago. Ready to stretch your legs?” 

You bought some ice cream from a Dessert Dealer before driving down to the architecture center to walk around, even deciding to catch a movie before you checked into the hotel.

“This was the best. week. ever!” You exclaimed, flopping onto the bed.

Wil chuckled and laid down beside you. “It’s not over yet.”

“Well you said no detours planned on the way back, and you’ll be busy with the thing tomorrow, so...safe to say we can call it.” You shrugged, flipping onto your stomach and laying your head on your arms. “What is it anyway? A speech? Big grand opening?”

He didn’t answer you at first, contemplating the answer. “Truth be told...” He started. “The network has no idea I’m here. I just wanted to surprise you with all of this. Because...”

“Because?”

He put up a finger, staring down at his watch until-

FRIDAY

“Because, happy anniversary.” He said with a grin,

You had to pause, doing the math in your head, before sitting up straight. “That is...the sweetest thing anybody’s ever done for me. God, I love you.”

He pulled you into a hug before you started tearing up. “I love you too...In fact I didn’t think it was possible to love someone so much.”

“Me either,” You admitted, pulling back to wipe your face with your sleeve. “Happy anniversary, Wil.”

Little did you know that despite the list being complete, there was still one more surprise in store.

You know, considering the ‘top secret list’ you couldn’t look at was just to keep your attention away from the tiny black box in his suitcase?

[songsformonkeys]

Digging Up Bones (whiskey x f!reader) - chapter 3

[Banner by the lovely @yespolkadotkitty ]

Summary: You work for the Statesmen as the head of their medical department. It’s your job to patch up anyone who gets back wounded and to work on ways to prevent them from getting badly wounded in the first place.

Agent Whiskey, in particular, seems to be more accident-prone than the rest and he never passes up a reason to come see you, whether for real injuries or imaginary ones. The two of you form a close friendship, which slowly turns into something more.

Then a British man with a headshot wound and a fascination with butterflies shows up in your emergency room and in the events that follow you’re forced to reevaluate just about everything you thought you knew about your partner.

Warnings: canon typical violence

Masterlist

Chapter 3

The following three days passed in a slow fashion. Not just because Whiskey was gone but the rest of the agents seemed to be staying out of harm's way as well. It was a bit boring, but that was something Tonic had taught you not to complain about out loud since it apparently made it sound like you longed for injuries and carnage.

On the bright side, the slow days gave you, Ginger, and Tonic time to begin interviewing the agents on base for their emergency folders for the Alpha-gel.

The three of you had realized that while the gel and the nanites healed the brain perfectly fine they still needed something to counter the retrograde amnesia, which seemed to be a standard side effect. The sample of agents that had needed to use the gel was still small and so you couldn't draw too many sure conclusions from it, but every single one of them so far had suffered memory loss. It had been Tonic's idea that reminders of a past trauma might jump-start the memory again. The results had been good but guessing and digging up past traumas had been painstakingly difficult and had taken up more time than ideal. So you had collectively decided that each agent should have a file or a folder containing their very worst memory and ways it could be triggered.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 On Wednesday evening, you curled up in your armchair and called Whiskey. He picked up after three rings.

“Moonshine, “ he drawled, voice sounding a little tired.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you asked, suddenly feeling a little bad. It wasn't that late in the evening but maybe Whiskey had needed to tuck in early.

“No no, I was awake,” Whiskey assured you, “Just got home from a looong day at an art auction. I'm not sure if you've ever been but it is possibly the most boring thing I have ever done.”

“Yeah? What was so bad about it?” you asked, smiling to yourself. You would be caught dead before admitting it out loud but you had actually missed him these past few days.

Whiskey began describing his day. A soon as he began talking, his voice relaxed you. You pictured him walking around in a swanky hotel room, with a view of the big city, probably still wearing his hat. You were half convinced he even slept in that thing.

Whiskey told you about the auction and the few stuck-up people who had pretended not to understand his southern accent just to make him feel less than. Then he told you about the way he'd later wiped the smug smiles off their faces by actually bidding home the small painting they had been ogling.

“Champ might kill me for it, 'cause it cost a small fortune, but it was worth it!”

“What will you do with the painting?” you asked.

“Hm,” Whiskey said and you didn't need to see him to know that he was shrugging, “Dunno. Might hang it in my apartment. It's a beautiful painting, reminded me of someone special... Speaking of my apartment, have you finished the cake yet?”

You nodded, before remembering that he couldn't see you.

“Yes, Ginger and Tonic helped me eat the rest of it.”

You had been over to Whiskey's apartment the day after he'd left. When you'd gotten to work, his key had been in a white envelope on your desk and you hadn't been able to keep your curiosity at bay for longer than a workday.

The apartment hadn't been quite what you thought Whiskey's home would look like. It had been much neater and cleaner than you had expected, for starters. You had expected more of a bachelor pad but Whiskey's apartment was quite nice. It looked lived in but not messy. Each thing seemed to have its own designated spot. As you had walked around the living room towards the kitchen you had taken in the big, comfortable-looking couch and multi-colored knitted blanket that looked like it was homemade.

There had been a couple of books on art history resting on the wooden coffee table. You had stopped, slightly in awe, in front of the big bookshelves that covered a whole wall of the room. You'd never pictured Whiskey to be the reading type, but here was clear proof otherwise. You had scanned the titles of the books and the exceptionally wide array of subjects made you suspect that a lot of these had been read for previous missions. But there had been a whole shelf of fiction too and you smiled a little as you noted that a lot of them seemed to be old western classics.

You had found the cake in the fridge in the equally clean kitchen. The cake had been in a plastic container and Whiskey had stuck a post-it note with a smiley on the lid.

“I liked your bookshelf. And I borrowed a book from you,“ you confessed over the phone and Whiskey chuckled in response.

“Is that so? Which one, if I may ask, was it that caught your fancy?”

“Lonesome Dove.”

“Ah, a classic! Didn't have you pegged as a western girl, Moonshine.”

“I'm not sure if I am, I've never read any. But you had a lot of them and I thought...” You cut yourself off, glancing over at the book on your bed, “You had a book on human anatomy as well that looked interesting and one on make-shift medical treatment when you don't have access to a hospital. I didn't take those, though. It felt wrong to take so many books without asking...”

Whiskey chuckled again and the sound did weird things to your insides, or maybe it was the nerves of having just admitted to raiding his bookshelf.

“Darlin', if it makes you happy, you are more than welcome to help yourself to any book in that apartment”

“Really? But what if it's a book that you suddenly need?”

“Then I'll know perfectly well where to find it.”

You couldn't really argue with that logic, didn't really want to either because the prospect of getting to read all those books almost made you giddy.

“So besides ogling my books, what else have you been up to while I've been gone?” Whiskey asked and you proceeded to tell him about the work with the Trauma Folders, which Tonic so affectionately called them.

“You still haven't submitted yours either, by the way,” you told him. Whiskey didn't immediately answer. The line was dead silent for a few seconds and just when you were about to ask if he was still there, he cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I know. I promise to get right on that as soon as I'm back, okay?” He sounded a little odd and your brow furrowed slightly. Whiskey cleared his throat again.

“Look, darlin', I'm pretty dead on my feet right now and as lovely as your voice is to listen to, I think unfortunately we gotta hang up before I start snoring on you.”

“Oh, of course! Sorry, I've talked too much.”

“Hardly,” Whiskey replied and his voice was warm and soft again, which eased the nervous knots that had begun forming in your stomach at his abrupt attempt to end the call. Usually, that was your role to try and say goodnight and his to try and linger. “I cherish every word, which is why I prefer to be awake for them. Call me tomorrow again?”

“Sure. Good night, Whiskey.”

“Good night, darlin'”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 If the previous days had been slow, the following day was anything but, at least when the afternoon rolled around.

Ginger had called you about some very strange low-frequency readings coming from a church nearby in Kentucky. She told you that she and Tequila were gonna go check it out but that you should be on standby, just in case.

You told her to be careful. Ginger was excellent at her job but she was also one of your closest friends and you couldn't help but worry.

After you'd ended the call, you immediately set about preparing the emergency room and double-checking to make sure everything was there. Seeing as neither of you knew what the strange readings had been about, it was difficult to prepare for every possible scenario, and while you knew that the health effects of exposure to extremely low frequencies were being discussed in the medical community, no one knew exactly what the effects were.

It seemed like a lifetime had passed before Ginder called you again. You heard the sound of the helicopter in the background. She told you that they'd be there in thirty and that they were bringing someone in with a headshot.

“I'll get the chamber ready for him!” you told her

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Thirty minutes later, on the dot, you watched as the helicopter landed and Tequila emerged, carrying a man in a suit. The man's face was obscured by the balloon containing the Alpha-gel but his clothes looked expensive.

“Entry point?” you yelled, over the sound of the helicopter as you waved for Tequila and Ginger to hurry inside.

“Straight through the left eye,” Ginger replied and you winced. The left temporal lobe would be damaged, for sure, maybe part of the occipital one too. You were confident that the nanites would be able to rebuild the brain matter but with the temporal lobe damaged you worried that the memory loss might be even more extensive than what you'd seen before and you wondered if it would affect his speech.

“Exit point or is the bullet still in there?” you asked.

“The bullet went all the way through as far as I could tell. Not sure what he was shot with though so we'll have to scan to make sure there's nothing left in there.”

Said and done. When you got down to the medical rooms you first put the man through a thorough scan of his skull. Just like Ginger suspected, the bullet had gone straight through and it luckily hadn't left anything but damaged tissue in its wake. Tequila helped move him over to the nanite chamber. Carefully, you removed the Alpha-gel balloon and quickly closed the chamber around his head.

“What happened?” you asked as you sat down in front of the computer and began tapping away at the keyboard, starting the machine and readying it for the healing and rebuilding process.

“We have no idea,” Ginger said. “We found him like this outside the church, no sign of who had shot him. Inside the church, however...”

“What?” you asked.

“Inside was a total fuckin' bloodbath,” Tequila supplied, “Whole congregation just...slaughtered.”

You looked over at the strange man.

“You think he did it?”

Both Ginger and Tequila shrugged.

“We don't know. But he's got blood on him that isn't his own and there was no gun in his hand so he clearly didn't shoot himself, which means someone got away from that Church alive.” Ginger reasoned, “And there's one more thing..”

She pulled a pair of glasses from the pocket of her jacket. The left glass was shattered.

“He was wearing these. These aren't normal glasses, which means he's not a civilian. And his watch... he's some sort of intelligence. I'll dig around and see if I can find out whom he belongs to.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 You called Whiskey again that evening. He sounded more awake today but you could practically hear the frown on his face when you told him about your strange new guest. He was not happy.

“He's an agent?” he asked.

“We think so. Ginger is running some tests on his glasses and his watch to see what we can figure out but so far we have no idea whom he's working for. So we just have to wait for him to wake up and see how much he remembers.”

“I don't like this,” Whiskey stated. “Not one bit. If he's intelligence, he's dangerous, Moonshine. You shouldn't be alone with him, not under any circumstances!”

“I won't,” you reassured him while rolling your eyes. “Agent Tequila also has an over-protective streak and has, therefore, put himself on guard duty until further notice. I've had him looking over my shoulder all evening.”

You had found it somewhat annoying but Whiskey had instantly calmed down upon hearing that bit of information. He told you to promise to listen to Tequila on this, which you reluctantly did. You didn't tell Whiskey that if the arrangement continued, you would have to come to some sort of agreement with Tequila on how close was close enough for protection. You couldn't have him reading over your shoulder all day long or you'd go stir crazy.

Whiskey continued to ask you a bunch of questions about the strange man and you couldn't answer a single one. He asked you about the signal too and you couldn't give him any answers to that either. It was all Ginger's area of expertise and you told him as much.

“Sorry, darlin', just wanna make sure my favorite girl is safe until I get back.”

Whiskey's words made you smile stupidly, despite the slightly patronizing undertone of them. You would like to think you knew how to take care of yourself, especially around your patients. But you did enjoy it when Whiskey called you his favorite. No one else had called you their favorite before.

After a few more minutes of chit-chat, you both said good night.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 The next day, your patient woke up.

It had been decided the day before that Tonic and Tequila would be the first ones to greet him. Tequila because of the whole bodyguard business and Tonic because he was by far the one who had the most experience with calming people in shock and panic. You had only sulked a little when you'd sat down the desk on the other side of the one-way mirror showing you the stranger's cell. You turned on the cameras in the other room to record the interaction before leaning forward over the desk to watch.

As anticipated, the man was more than a little freaked out by waking up in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar faces around him.

“Where am I? Who are you?” he immediately asked and you raised your eyebrows as you noted his British accent. The stranger tried to scramble off the bed where he'd been lying. Tequila took a step forward but Tonic quickly held up a hand to stop him.

“You are in a hospital,” Tonic told the frightened man and gave him a calm smile, “My name is To...Tom.”

“A hospital? What happened?” the stranger asked.

“We were hoping you would be able to tell us. You were in some sort of accident and when we found you, you were unconscious.”

Unconscious... that was definitely an understatement to describing having had one's brains blown out through the back of their head.

“Do you remember anything of what happened?” Tonic continued.

The British man looked around the room with wild eyes but he was already calming down a bit. While you were a bit jealous that Tonic, or Tom apparently, was the first one to get to talk to your new patient you had to admit that it was a privilege to get to watch him work. Tonic continued talking to the man and answering his questions by saying just enough to calm him but not enough to confuse him.

You found out that his name was Harry, but he couldn't remember his last name. He was from England and he thought he was 23 years old, which he most definitely was not. You caught Tonic and Tequila exchange a look as Harry told them his age. If Harry couldn't remember anything beyond his 23rd year then you estimated that he had forgotten more than half of his life. And since he wasn't one of your agents, you had no idea how to bring those memories back again...

Tonic and Harry spoke for a while longer and Tonic told him about his injuries. He also told harry about the memory loss. Harry didn't believe him until Tonic guided him over to the one-way mirror separating you from them and let Harry have a look at himself. You stood on the other side of the mirror and could watch as realization dawned on Harry. His breathing immediately sped up again and he was beginning to panic.

“Harry,” Tonic said calmly, “Harry, I'm gonna need you to breathe slower with me, okay? We've seen this kind of memory loss before and we will do our very best to help you recover the memories you can't remember right now”

“Think of it as one hell of a hangover,” Tequila supplied and Harry gave him an incredulous look.

“Hangover?” he asked in a weak voice “I look old enough to be a grandfather and I don't remember any of it... I don't think anyone has ever been drunk enough for that kind of hangover.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Tonic and Tequila handled the whole ordeal in a way that made you proud to call yourself their colleague and they stayed with Harry for most of the day, talking and explaining. Harry listened patiently and you had to give him credit for taking the situation a whole lot better than some of the Statesmen who had gone through the same thing. He was scared and worried, sure, but he managed to keep his panic in check and asked Tonic a whole bunch of relevant questions.

You wished you could have stayed and watched all afternoon but eventually you had to go back to your own office and begin typing up your report.

You had barely gotten two paragraphs in when your phone started ringing.

“Moonshine?” Whiskey said as soon as you picked up and you could immediately tell that something was wrong. He sounded scared. There were car horns blaring and loud crashes in the background.

“Yes. Whiskey what's...”

Whiskey cut you off before you could finish your question.

“Where are you?” he asked and when it took you a fraction of a second too long to answer, he repeated the question, “Moonshine! Where are you?”

“I'm in the office. Whiskey what's wrong?”

“Good! Whatever you do, stay where you are! There's something in the air! People are killing each other!”

“What?” Before you could say anything further, your door burst open and you screamed from surprise.

“Moonshine!” Whiskey yelled, panicked, as Ginger stormed into the office and pushed you out of her way to get to the computer. She began tapping on the keyboard and you watched as she pulled up live feeds from several cameras around the country. Your mouth fell open as you watched the chaos that filled the screen.

“MOONSHINE!” Whiskey yelled again and you realized you hadn't answered him.

“I'm fine!” you quickly assured him and you heard him exhale loudly. “Ginger just showed up. What the hell is going on?” The last question was aimed at them both. The quality of the feeds wasn't the best but there was no mistaking what was going on. All over the country, people were killing each other.

“The fuck if I know,” Whiskey said at the same time as Ginger supplied the slightly more helpful “It's the same signal! It's the same low frequency as we picked up from the church. But this is all over...well the world”

She turned and looked at the phone in your hand.

“Is that agent Whiskey?”

You nodded but then froze as you heard a banging noise on the other end of the line, which sounded much closer than the previous ones. You heard Whiskey curse.

“Whiskey?”

There was another crash and he cursed again.

“I'm sorry, darlin', I seem to have a visitor. I gotta go.”

“Whiskey,” you begged and you heard your own voice break as you spoke his name.

“Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll deal with this and then I promise I'll come right home to you. You just promise to stay inside and stay safe, okay?”

What about you? you wanted to ask, but Whiskey had already hung up.

“He'll be fine,” said Ginger, who must have seen the expression change on your face. You nodded. She was right. Whiskey was an excellent agent. He would be fine.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 He would be fine. You managed to convince yourself of that up until about an hour later when the office phone called. You were too busy clutching your own phone, waiting for Whiskey to call back, to pay any attention to the other phone so Ginger picked it up and answered. She exchanged a few cryptic comments with the person on the other line before ending the call by saying:

“We'll be ready for him.”

After she'd hung up the phone she turned towards you.

“Whiskey's on his way back. He's been stabbed but according to the pilot, he's stable. They're flying him back now. “

[neonponders]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for tagging me @lazybakerart 💗💋

I’ve got two big writing projects on my plate this week lol but one thing I’m kind of indulging is a break-up/getting back together fic that I actually started in this post, but I’ll share what I have so far underneath the cut ~

(and excuse me while I overshare, because I’m still stupidly proud of this The Mummy_au post that I made if anyone wants a taste of that)

Tagging (if you want) ✨ @ghostofjellyfishforgotten , ✨ @smashmouth-hargrove , and ✨ @withoneheadlight 

(also just a heads up for the wip below: it’s once again me exploring my own asexuality through Steve, but I don’t know how far I’m going to go into it. Still, that might be a content warning people may need if they’re sex-repulsed 🌹)

Ch. 1

Sex with Billy was fine. Good, even.

When they finally moved past every look and touch being a threat veiled in a tease, Steve enjoyed looking at Billy. He enjoyed looking at Billy and discovering those California eyes already on him. He liked Billy’s hands. The man had beautiful hands; strong, thick fingers but...somehow elegant.

He liked Billy’s body, even though he sometimes worried that the guy seemed determined to break it ten different ways. Cigarettes, alcohol, excessive working out, and sometimes all at the same time.

Sex didn’t always mean Steve got to cum. Usually he didn’t, actually. But he enjoyed Billy’s kisses on his neck, and the taste of his tongue, and - admittedly - he loved just having all of Billy’s attention enraptured on him. Steve didn’t mind taking his dick inside because once he got used to it, that felt surprisingly good. When he managed the pleasurable sparks and sensational tingles that mounted into something explosive, he understood why sex was great. But for the more frequent, calm nights, he’d come to think of it as a weird yet pleasant massage.

So he took it. Because it was easier on his hands and knees, for one, and because Billy had a control complex. And Steve could hide his lack of enthusiasm.

Not to say that Billy was selfish or careless. Far from it, Billy Hargrove was an incredibly doting lover. Big surprise, there. Considering how the guy

Well

Existed.

Steve couldn’t really blame Billy for never noticing that he could go a long time without sex. Because Steve liked resting his hand on Billy’s chest while they watched a show or movie. It didn’t matter how much bare skin he had access to. In fact, the more coverage, the better. A clothed body is better to cuddle with than skin that can get sticky or irritated.

Steve liked kissing. He’d always liked kissing. Kissing was the reason he’d assumed he was like everyone else: the desire to kiss, crushes and girlfriends, masturbating, even the giddiness of sex with someone new.

But something fizzled out very quickly in Steve’s brain. Once hands and intent started moving beneath clothing, Steve just...didn’t want it. Suddenly a lot of things popped into his brain that he’d rather be doing. But he persevered because he loved Nancy, and her blooming sexual prowess and bravery was sexy.

Fun.

Billy was a whole big bag of new with an edge of scary that turned out to be more endearing than Steve thought possible. So it was easy to go like that for a while.

Normal.

Eventually he had to admit to himself that he didn’t like taking showers at 1am because he didn’t enjoy being covered in his own, and Billy’s, sweat. He didn’t like feeling the drips on his skin or the tackiness of too many skin oils on his hands.

He hated admitting to himself that he felt relief whenever Billy went out of town for work. He missed Billy, of course, but a lot of things had begun to snowball together in Steve’s life: changing jobs, managing bank accounts and savings, and there were a lot of truths Steve was facing outside of his relationship.

He was tired. Damn tired. He spent many days off wondering if people in their twenties feel this tired all the time or if it was just him. It must just be him. Because Steve sees Robin just as much as he doesn’t. She’s got goals.

And Billy

Billy has big dreams. He’s ready to work damn hard and already is. That’s why he uses his hefty gas money funds, to travel around. Scout the areas. Steve even drove him to the airport once, so Billy could really gain some distance over the weekend. Expand his network.

As if the universe knew, some bigwig passing through Hawkins on their way to Chicago ran right into Billy. A bigwig looking for a handsome, charismatic, young guy to mentor. It really couldn’t be more perfect than divine intervention. They’re Billy’s inlet to the business. Modeling, acting, freaking UNICEF ambassadorial work if he wants to feel extra important. If he gets big enough to have his face mean something around the world.

Within one conversation, he’s got a business card, and an appointment in a Chicago skyscraper next week to take measurements and do a rudimentary photo shoot. The manager warns him that it’s the agency getting to know him, but like any job interview, it’s his chance to interview them right back. Billy likes that a lot—feeling like he has a stake in something instead of just being a corporate pawn. And maybe he eats right out of the manager’s hand, but it’s still a shot. And he’s taking it.

He immediately goes to Steve’s work, fired up from seeing a future for the first time like he finally got the right prescription glasses. The only caveat is that Billy has to move out of Hawkins, which isn’t even a flaw, really. It’s as close to perfect as life’s ever been for him.

Steve can only listen quietly as he sits at the table in the break room. Because Billy’s got big dreams that are already coming true. Every detail of his enflamed speech is given over pacing feet; he can’t even bother to sit at the table. Billy’s got so much energy he’s already mentally and emotionally out the door.

Steve…isn’t. His mental health has been on a downward slope since before they graduated, and it won’t allow him to reach anywhere. He doesn’t have any dreams to steer him in any direction anyways.

Billy’s rant begins to wind down about what he wants to do; his fire about his dreams and his motivation simmers down to an even boil. Steve’s impressed and already proud of the person Billy will become, but Steve can also hear Billy’s frustration with him and their relationship.

For not keeping up.

Steve’s…kind of never been able to keep up. In bed or in life.

And perhaps the saddest part is that Steve doesn’t even have it in him to fight for it. For them. He doesn’t feel worthy enough to hold Billy back. So he doesn’t.

Billy snaps a little, “Why aren’t you saying anything? I’ve been talking about this for the last two years! Steve?”

He’d gotten distracted by looking at his backpack hanging on the wall. Steve’s throat hurt. Two years? God, it’s really been two years already…

He pinched his fingertips over the table as he began, “Billy, I support you. I know you can get there—wherever it is you want to be. I’m not going to tell you to stop or slow down. You’re going somewhere. But I’m…”

He took a breath to finally say it. “Not. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t think I have the energy to figure it out any time soon. You should go.”

Steve can see the disappointment sinking through Billy’s features. And the anger that he’s so used to throwing up as a shield. Billy has so much energy coursing through him as it is, Steve can’t blame him for swinging right into the direction of livid.

The real surprise comes from how soft he speaks. No yelling. No hitting the table. No wrenching Steve up by his green uniform vest. They were long past those outbursts. Which…really just confirmed Steve’s decision. Billy had come a long way. He could go so much further.

“That’s what you have to say? Just like that…you’re really giving up on us?”

Steve knows he’s gaping like a stupid fish. But it isn’t just like that, is it? Billy’s been revving his engines to get the hell out of Hawkins ever since he got here in the first place. Steve tries to say as much, but Billy cuts him off.

“I thought you’d be excited for this. You should be hauling me out of here to pack my bags.”

Steve tries to offer a small smile, but his voice betrays him. “I thought I kind of am? I didn’t take you for the long distance type.”

It’s not the response Billy wants. That should make Steve feel better than it does; the blatant display that Billy wants more of Steve. His excitement, his attention, maybe his companionship…

Steve doesn’t know what he wants—or rather, he does. That’s the issue. Billy’s wants and Billy’s problems can all be resolved by leaving one critical piece behind.

Steve.

Some more things are said, but Steve doesn’t do well on the spot. Especially when the limelight is Billy. Steve fails the tests and he fails the interview. Billy storms out, leaving Steve at the table, pinching his fingertips white before he unconsciously glances at his backpack again.

The backpack full of apartment lease papers. The papers Steve’s already signed because even with his insecurities, the mornings he woke up to discover Billy spooning him after having returned in the middle of the night were his best days. Because Billy’s silly insistence on hand poured coffee was his favorite drink. Because Billy was funny and weird like an artist and loony like a nerd with his video games, and Steve knew—or at least hoped that—Billy loved him the day he started holding his hand while driving that stupid, loud, beloved Camaro—

Because Steve’s heart was a magnet. It stayed where it landed and tugged back even when pulled away.

All he’d needed was Billy’s autograph to be given the keys. Keys to the rest of their lives, if Billy wasn’t already so far away.

Ch. 2

Robin gripped Steve’s arm, hard. A gargled sound escaped him as he grimaced and tried to pry her hand off. Her other hand pointed at one of the catalogues on the store’s many counters. When he invited her with him to pick out glasses, he hadn’t expected to walk out of the freaking optometrist’s office with bruises…

Nor had he thought he’d see a familiar face in the catalogue. Plenty of models were looking editorial chic, advertising that anyone could look as good in whatever glasses they chose.

Except Billy really did look good. The picture was just a vague image outside, the camera focused on Billy’s three-quarter profile gazing off past the photographer.

“I didn’t expect him to actually be working this fast,” Robin admitted. “It’s been…what? Seven months, give or take? I thought casting calls for models were competitive.”

“Not if you look like Billy,” Steve huffed with a quiet mixture of humor, sadness, and just a sprinkle of spite. A sprinkle of jealousy, if he was being honest with himself. The self-help book tucked under the covers of his bed talked about honesty. So he admitted honestly, “He looks that good and knows how to stand out in a room…good for him.”

He could see in his periphery Robin looking up and scrutinizing him. “Really?”

Steve shrugged with a nod. “Yeah. What’s the other option? Him struggling for work?”

Robin sighed and plucked a display set of glasses at random to try on and occupy herself. “That’s big of you, but everyone wants something cathartic. It’s annoyingly impressive that he landed the front cover of a magazine in less than a year.”

Steve opened the catalogue to give them both a reprieve. “You wanna get food after this? Take your mind off the audition?”

For all the good being a band geek did, Robin had experienced her own humbling experiences over the last few months. Like failed auditions to be in city orchestras. She and Steve were feeling very stuck in Kansas while Billy gallivanted around Oz.

• • • • • • •

The plot gets messy because years will actually go by, and Steve and Robin get married so that they can share insurance benefits (and be safe in their bi/lesbian open relationship, buy a house together, etc. It’s the life/happiness security Steve wants but obviously there aren’t any romantic feelings).

Of course this is when Billy happens to reenter Steve’s life. He’s got some hot-shot model he’s been seeing, and apparently Steve is married so there’s the added dash and twist of ~ cheating ~

I’ve been in some kind of mood, all right.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading lol.

[chandelier-s-notebook]

Chapter 8

Let me know if you wanna get tagged when I post new chapters in “These Streets Are Made For Walking”. @sleepysnails.

Ao3 Link

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

It’s the next Wednesday when the Foster Bitch climbed the stairs up to Techno’s room. Knocking on the doorframe twice, she entered without waiting for an answer.

“Tommy hasn’t been to school all week, and the school called about unexcused absences.” She frowned at him. “You share a room with him, and don’t you drive him to school? Where is he?”

Techno threw his earbuds on his bedside table. “No idea Ma’am. I haven’t seen him since you sent him to pick me up from the station last Thursday. He woke up early and took the bus. I figured he was mad at me and at Tubbo’s. Dream’s been suspended for the incident, so I couldn’t exactly ask him.”

“Don’t you have his number?” she asked in an accusatory tone.

“Yes. But you confiscated his phone two weeks ago.”

“Oh.” She seemed to be taken aback for a second. “Shouldn’t you have Dream’s?”

“That’s for work. Like I said, I thought Tommy was at Tubbo’s. I didn’t think anything was wrong.”

“Mr. Richmon is in the kitchen.”

Ranboo’s dad. “Oh fuck.” Techno rolled out of his bed. He honestly would rather stay on his phone, but she was clearly offloading this on him, and Techno was going to make sure Tommy still had friends. Going to Ranboo’s was the best dinner Tommy ever gets. He doesn’t eat that much when he’s over, because he’ll just vomit it up, but the leftovers he takes back last the two of them a good week. Tommy may not want to be a bother and use up their resources, but Techno knows that he thinks of those leftovers as paying Techno back for everything he does.

Techno rushed down the stairs, jumping two at a time. The old stairs creaked as his feet hit their tops, the planks bending under his weight. In a moment of hesitation Techno stopped suddenly, sliding a little on his socks. He took a moment to collect himself, before making his way into the kitchen.

“Mr. Richmon,” greeted the Foster Bitch appearing next to him. “This is Techno, he’s probably the closest person to your son as Tommy hasn’t been around lately.”

“We’ve crossed paths,” Techno said, straightening his tee-shirt collar.

“Parent teacher interviews, was it?” Mr. Richmon asked, sending a little glare to the Foster Bitch and offering Techno his hand.

His grip was firm, but Techno’s was comparable. “What brings you here?”

“I haven’t seen my son since Friday.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve been calling him in absent for a prolonged family issue, but I am well aware of the company he keeps.” Mr. Richmon kept his tone light, but the accusation is heard loud and clear as he pulls out a chair for himself.

Techno tips his head in understanding. “His friends aren’t that bad,” he defends. “But I understand your concern with Tubbo and Purpled’s brothers.”

Mr. Richmon gestures to Techno, “And Tommy’s.”

“I’m not Tommy’s brother. This is a group home. We aren’t related,” he dismissed immediately. “The other guys are blood though.”

Both the Foster Bitch and Mr. Richmon gave him weird looks at his comment.

Techno took them in stride. So what? He knows he’s lying to himself more than he’s trying to convince them. “I can ask Dream and Punz if they know anything,” Techno suggested. “I assume you don’t want to be seen with them?”

Mr. Richmon nodded. “Of course not. This place is dingy enough.”

The Foster Bitch looks affronted, but Techno shushed her with a look. “I’ll try to find your son, but might I recommend going to the police.”

“The less the police know the better,” Mr. Richmon said like it was a mantra of his.

Techno nodded, already trying to figure out how he was going to deal with this. He was the getaway driver who did his homework. Sure he knew a few things, but he didn’t have any street skills. He remembered the purple hoodie at the gas station; he might have wanted to stay oblivious, but he knew who he saw.

Techno and Mr. Richmon left the house at the same time. They got into their respective cars and they drove in opposite directions. Techno headed to Punz’s place--might as well check if they were there. Techno honestly doesn’t know why he had Punz’s key on his lanyard, but due to it he didn’t bother needing to knock.

“Techno’s here!” he shouted; can’t ever be too careful at the mercenary’s house. He doesn’t hear anything back, and since anyone who could possibly be here would shout back in greeting, he assumed that the place was empty. But it doesn’t hurt to check around.

The thing about Punz and his profession is that he had to keep tabs on his targets, and the way he practiced and kept his skills sharp was by keeping tabs on his close associates. Therefore, he normally knows when people plan to stop by.

Techno walked into the living room and found a sticky note on the family computer. “Initiation collateral. Alive,” he reads.

Techno moved the mouse and the screen opened up to an article on one of the dark web sites. “New Las Nevadas Member: Merc. Punz’s Baby Bro.” He quickly scrolled down to the cover photo: open white van doors with Purpled and Tommy grappling on the ground, Ranboo and Tubbo nowhere to be seen. “Shit.”

As he skims the article he pulls out his phone and calls Dream.

He picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Tommy’s for sure not sleeping at your place is he?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

“For sure? Is everything okay?”

“No. Is Tommy there?” Techno pressed.

“No, and Tubbo hasn’t checked in with me for a while.”

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Techno lifted his shoulder, trapping the phone there so that both of his hands were free. He scrolled back up to see the picture again, confirmation that it was, in fact, real. He let out an unsteady breath, and shook out his hands.

“Why? What happened?” Dream’s voice picked up anxiously. “Did you hear something?”

“Yeah. So did Punz.” Techno took a deep breath. “Did he tell you anything?”

“I haven’t spoken to Punz in about a month,” Dream said.

“Mr. Richmon came by the home asking for his son.”

“The kids aren’t at Ranboo’s?” Dream asked, concern hardening his tone.

“Nope. Purpled’s on the news. The way that you’re on the news.”

The line was silent. “Fuck.” The sound of something breaking echoed down the line. “That’s. Bad.”

“Hope its ransom.”

There was a rustle on Dream’s end of the line, as if he was moving something. “Fuck. I’ll look into it. What did Purp get into?”

“Las Nevadas.”

“Fuck. Purpled. Why? What did Mr. Richmon say?”

“That Ranboo was missing and that he came to me because you and Punz live in too much of a shithole for him to visit.”

“I don’t live in a shithole!”

“This place is dingy enough, were his exact words.”

“Ouch.”

It’s been a week. Tubbo, Ranboo, and Tommy were thrown into the same room. It’s objectively a nice room, but a prison is still a prison no matter how lavish the cell. The beds were really comfortable, but it was barren besides them.

They don’t see Purpled again, instead Fundy Soot is the one to bring them their three meals a day. You’d think that one could never get sick of pizza, but eventually--especially with the mood so sour--there comes a breaking point.

“Did someone order a meat-lovers?” The door opens and Fundy is inside the room with three cardboard plates, two slices on each. “Your dinner is here.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Tommy said digging into his slices.

“No, I don’t think I will.” Fundy smiles vindictively. Sue him, he hates babysitting duty. “Who’s gonna shut me up? Your brother?” he asks, looking at Tubbo. “That little amateur couldn’t do anything. Petty thieving is the highest form of sin you know?” Fundy said like he was reciting something.

“Shut the fuck up,” Tommy repeated, noticing how Tubbo froze.

“You too? What’s your brother going to do? He’s just the fucking getaway driver. He can’t help you. Big Brother Techno Blade isn’t as strong as you think he is, little Tommy.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Tommy shouted. “Techno may be friends with Dream, but he’s not doing that shit.”

“Didn’t you pick him up from the station? You’re lying to yourself. You know that Techno is in with Dream.”

“No he’s not! And don’t you have something better to do with your time? College or some shit?”

Fundy chuckled humourlessly. “The faster you eat, the faster I’m out of your room.”

Tommy glared and shoved a whole slice into his mouth.

“No one’s coming to save you,” he taunted.

“Shut up.”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full. We sent the ransom video,” he said moving onwards. “Instead Mr. Richmon hired Techno and Dream for free. Seems Daddy doesn’t care about his son enough to save you immediately.”

That’s the point that Tubbo broke. Tubbo could take a verbal bashing; Tommy would be pissed if he attacked on his behalf; but Ranboo? Ranboo was the most innocent here and didn’t need familial jabs.

Tubbo lurched from his bed and swung at Fundy Soot, sending him down to the floor. “Where the fuck is your big brother? He fucking failed you if you had to get dragged in the life style to survive.” Tubbo punched Fundy again after he was down. “Where is he huh? At least my brother managed to keep me out of this shit.”

Tommy rushes over to pull Tubbo back. “Shh. Shh. We can’t afford this. He's top dog here.”

Fundy laid on the floor, arms out and protecting his face.

“We’re done eating,” Tommy growls. “Get out.”

Ranboo, thoroughly shaken, picks up the plates and puts them in Fundy’s hands, standing in between the two groups so Fundy couldn’t retaliate. If any of them needed to come out of this looking pretty it’s him: the rich boy.

[twomoonstwosuns]

friends.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, sweet fluff for the entire thing, age gap (reader over 18)

word count: 4.0k

a/n: feeling kinda meh about this chapter, i apologize if it’s not my best. enjoy the fluff, because we’re about to dive into some drama.

*updated masterlist with info about the number of remaining chapters! (but give me like 10 minutes so I can find the post and link things)

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

“Is the Wi-Fi working for you?”

Poe looked up from his computer when you didn’t answer. Your head was propped up against your hand as you stared at the screen. “Y/N?”

You hummed, tearing your eyes away from the screen. “Sorry, what?”

He gave you a humorous smile. “Are you connected to the Wi-Fi?”

You glanced down at the bars at the top of your screen. “Um…oh, I guess not.”

Poe got up from the table to reset the router. You leaned back in your chair, head hanging over the back so your hair cascaded down the back of it, and groaned quietly. It was a late Sunday afternoon and you were sitting at Poe’s kitchen table doing homework. He had his computer open too, though you weren’t entirely sure what he was doing. A comfortable silence accompanied by soft music fell over you, interrupted only by the clacking of the keyboard. Beebs was off being Beebs. He had been bouncing between you and Poe, demanding attention until you finally caved. After a game of fetch with the purple dragon you bought for him that allowed you to procrastinate for all of two minutes, Beebs trotted off towards Poe’s bedroom to chew on his new favorite toy. Then you were stuck working again. You were quickly losing the will to concentrate, your head throbbing with exhaustion.

“What’s eatin’ you?” You lifted your head to see Poe back in his spot, arms crossed over his chest and an observant look on his face.

“This business marketing paper. The boring part of marketing,” you said, shutting your computer and pushing it away from you. “I need a break. What’re you working on?”

Poe just sighed heavily. You walked over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder and peering at his laptop. There were multiple documents and webpages up.

“What’s eating you?”

Poe looked stressed. He grabbed your hand, bringing you around to perch on his lap. Your arm rested around his neck as his went around your waist to secure you in place.

“I’m…looking at Snoke’s dissertations, his research, the department head job…anything to give me an advantage.”

“Any word on when the interview is?”

“Not yet, but I got the names of some of the people interviewing for the position.”

“Anyone I know?”

“Armitage Hux?”

You narrowed your eyes as you thought. The name sounded familiar so you figured he was someone who taught at the university, but you didn’t know him personally. “I think I’ve heard the name before. If he’s a professor here, I haven’t had him.”

“Consider yourself lucky. He’s a pretentious jackass who thinks he’s above everyone else. Takes after Snoke.”

“Tell me how you really feel about him,” Poe snickered and gave your waist a squeeze. “Well, you’re the complete opposite of him, so I’d say that’s an advantage already. If there’s anything I can do to help you, let me know.”

Poe rubbed his eyes with his free hand. Resting your head against his, you ran your hand through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to make me fall asleep,” he said, leaning into your touch. You smiled at the pet name, a warm feeling settling in your chest.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

Poe rested his head on your shoulder, his nose nuzzling your collarbone. You continued running your fingers through his hair, a content groan coming from him as he completely relaxed. Moments like these were few and far between and greatly cherished, when you could just relax in each other’s embrace. There was no sneaking around, no pretending like you weren’t a couple in a room full of people. You could just be together.

Beebs suddenly barked loudly from Poe’s bedroom, startling the both of you out of your peaceful state. You looked towards the noise. “What’s gotten into him?”

Poe reluctantly unwound his arms from your waist, looking towards the room as Beebs’ barks turned to huffs.

“Maybe he found a mouse,” Poe said, smirking when you glared at him.

“That’s not funny!” You yelled after him.

A loud knock on the door startled you again. You could hear Poe talking to Beebs, which meant he hadn’t heard the door. You tiptoed over to the door to peak through the peephole when you heard a loud, booming voice.

“Poe Dameron, I know you’re alive in there!”

Yanking the door open, you immediately recognized the man and woman on the other side, but their faces showed confusion as they looked at you.

“You are not Poe,” the man said with a joking tone to his voice. You laughed.

“No, but I know you,” you pointed between the two visitors. “You’re Finn, and you’re Rey.” You recognized them from the pictures Poe had around his apartment and on his office desk.

“Is Poe here?” Rey asked kindly, and you snapped out of your thoughts.

“Oh my god, yeah, I’m sorry.” You stood aside, letting them in. “Poe!”

Poe came out of his room with Beebs hot on his heels and you saw his face light up when he saw Finn.

“Buddy!” He engulfed Finn in a giant hug, patting him on the back. It had been far too long since they’d seen each other, and the reunion of two best friends made you smile. “What’re you doing here?!”

“I’m on leave for two weeks, had to come say hi. And I managed to steal Peanut from Florida for a few days.”

Poe found Rey from over Finn’s shoulder and grabbed her in a bear hug, lifting her from the ground. They both leaned down to say hi to Beebs, the happy dog hungry for their affection, as he laid on the ground with his belly open for scratches.

“Guys,” Poe beckoned you over to him. “This is Y/N. Y/N, this is—“

“Finn and Rey, I know,” you smiled, shaking both of his friends’ hands. “It’s so great to meet you, I’ve heard so many good things about the both of you.”

“Oh god, now I have to know what he said.” Finn joked. “Are you sticking around a bit longer?”

You grabbed the phone out of your pocket and grimaced at the time. “Another time, I actually have to head out.”

Beebs grabbed Finn and Rey’s attention once again, showing off a toy in hopes they’d play with him.

“You know you can stay, right?” Poe questioned quietly as you packed up your belongings.

“I know, but Karé’s expecting me home to help her study and if I’m not there soon, she will kill me,” you explained, really wishing you hadn’t made the promise to your friend so you could stay. “Besides, it’s not everyday you get a surprise visit from your best friends. You haven’t seen them in months; you need to catch up with them. I’ll see you later.”

Poe smiled appreciatively and pressed a lingering kiss to your lips. You whispered a goodbye to him before politely waving to Finn and Rey.

“So that’s your girl, huh?” Rey asked as the front door clicked shut, elbowing Poe in the ribs and wiggling her eyebrows. Poe looked from the door to his friends and back, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

》 》 》

The nerves were back in your belly.

Finn and Rey still wanted to get to know you, so they suggested drinks. This felt as big as meeting the parents. Finn and Rey were important and if they didn’t like you…you didn’t want to think about it.

You drove over to Poe’s apartment and he intercepted you before you could head inside, instead getting into his waiting car. Your phone rang and you pressed a finger to your lips as Poe opened his mouth to say hi.

“Hi, mom.”

“You will never guess who’s back in town.”

“I know Ben is, but who else?”

“Ben told you, good! Well his father’s back, too. They want to know if we want to have dinner with them and his mother, and they want you and Tallie to come too. Are you available Wednesday night?”

“You’re going to make me drive an hour home just for that?”

“Please, honey? They really want to see you. If it’ll get you here, I’ll pay for your gas.”

You threw your head back against the seat of the car, groaning inaudibly in discontent.

“If it’ll make you happy, fine. But you’re paying me back for gas.”

“Thank you, honey. I’ll let them know and I’ll text you when we settle on a time and place.”

“Sounds good, unfortunately I gotta go, I’m actually a little busy right now.”

Bidding your mother goodbye, you hung up and tossed your phone into your bag. Poe raised his eyebrows. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah, apparently I get to drive all the way home to go out to dinner with some family friends who just got back to town,” you said, still confused as to why it was so imperative that you attend. “So…we’re not going inside?”

“Finn found a place an hour away. He figured we might like that since we’re always at my apartment.”

“Wow,” you said softly, awed at the sweetness of the gesture of someone who was still practically a stranger. “That’s so nice of him.”

“He likes you.”

“He doesn’t know me.”

“I’ve told him enough.”

“Oh yeah? What have you told him about me?”

“All the good stuff. Like how you snore.”

“I do not!” You swatted his arm. Poe grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers with his and kissing your knuckles. He didn’t let go for the entire hour-long drive.

When you got to the bar, Poe grabbed your hand outside of the car and kissed you in the parking lot. Because there was no one around who could tell on you.  

Finn and Rey had already arrived, commandeering a booth in the corner that wasn’t hiding from the action in the bar but a little out of the way to ensure some privacy. You sat down nervously as Finn joined Poe at the bar to get drinks.

“Can I just clarify something before Poe comes back?” You blurted as soon as Rey opened her mouth to speak. She nodded. “I’m not using Poe to get a good grade or whatever.”

“Relax,” Rey laughed. You blushed, muttering an apology and wondering where Poe was with drinks. “We never thought you were. Poe’s told us enough where we never even considered it.”

You felt your shoulders relax. “Ok, now I have to know what he said.”

Rey eyed the guys coming back to the table and gave you a look that said you’d talk about it later. You took a long swig of your beer, bursting into giggles with Rey at the reason why. Poe shook his head.

“Do I want to know?” He asked as he put his arm around the back of the booth and you shook your head as you patted his knee.

“Nope. Our secret.” You clinked your bottle against Rey’s and Poe felt excitement in his veins that you and Rey were already getting along.

“All right Y/N, there’s a few things Poe didn’t tell us about you,” Finn said. “What’s your major?”

“Marketing, which will let me do pretty much anything.”

“Do you know what you��re doing after school?”

“Not even in the slightest. I probably should start setting up job interviews though.”

“Family?”

“Mom, older sister, brother-in-law.”

“Is this twenty questions? Because if it is, it’s totally one-sided.” Poe interrupted.

“We’re doing a crash course on Y/N. Pun intended.” Finn said, making Poe roll his eyes.

“Ok fine, but let me sneak in a question or two.” You said. “Family?”

Poe’s eyes flickered between his two friends as he tensed beside you. You froze, realizing you might’ve struck a nerve but not knowing how. Your nerves were back in full force, a warm uncomfortable feeling settling in your chest.

“We were foster kids,” Finn said. “I never knew my birth parents.”

“And my parents died when I was five.” Rey added. They sounded so nonchalant about it, like they’ve said it a million times. A sorrowful look crossed your face.

“Don’t be sorry.” Rey shook her head, placing her hand on yours. “We got lucky with loving families and it made us who we are.”

“And we’re awesome, so…”

You admired their perspective. You weren’t very familiar with the foster system, knowing only what you know through word-of-mouth and poor TV portrayal, but you knew enough to know that kids sometimes ended up in bad situations when they all deserved good situations. And you were grateful that Finn and Rey ended up with good families.

“My dad walked out on my family six months ago to be with his mistress and we didn’t hear from him for two weeks,” you admitted, breaking the tense silence. Poe squeezed your hand. “Since we’re swapping family stories.”

Finn and Rey were silent before bursting out laughing, which caused you to laugh, and then Poe laughed. Uncomfortable family situations you had no control over whatsoever wouldn’t ruin a good time.

You learned that Rey was incredibly gifted and the youngest engineer at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida, working between engine maintenance on planes and shuttles to computer data processing. She had two rescue cats named Ochi and Deo and hated the humidity of Florida but loved the ocean and the lush green of the Everglades.

Finn was a Staff Sergeant in the Air Force based in California, quickly rising through the ranks with his skill and natural leadership abilities. He had just been assigned to the base in California and he was still getting used to all the sun. He and Poe met in high school first and made a plan to join the Air Force together until Poe’s father got sick. The band had been Finn’s idea, having spent three weeks holding auditions until he found his bandmates.

“Your friends are cooler than mine,” you said quietly to Poe before turning back to Finn and Rey. “So NASA engineer and Air Force pilot/sergeant. Definitely cooler than a famous musician.”

“Poe told you about that?” Finn asked. “Did he tell you about Skywalker Records?”

“Only that they were interested in you.”

“Well, we actually sat down with the founder Luke and Poe was so nervous that he tripped over his own feet and broke one of his Grammy’s.”

You wanted to feel bad for your boyfriend, but instead you busted out laughing. Poe groaned in embarrassment and you leaned into him, patting his stomach. You and Poe were probably a little touchy feely given that you with his friends, but if they had a problem with it they didn’t seem to care. You never got to act like a couple in public and you were taking full advantage of it.

“So, are you excited to graduate?” Rey asked. You nodded, but deep in the back of your mind you didn’t want to think about graduating, entering the real world and leaving the comfort of a daily school routine. And, ultimately, the possibility of leaving Poe.

“It’s been a long ride and sometimes I think I’ll forget everything I learned,” you vented. “And sometimes I feel like all college has done for me is teach me how to function on very little sleep and how to get really good at Mario Kart, like those skills are going to take me far.”

“Depending on what you end up doing, working on no sleep can help you.” Rey answered. Poe shot her a look.

“Don’t encourage it, it’s not healthy.”

“But it’s true.”

“You any good?” Finn interrupted, looking directly at you.

“At not sleeping? Very.”

“No, at Mario Kart.”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Finn huffed and you furrowed your brow. “Why?”

“Nothing,” Finn said, giving you a challenging look. “I just so happen to be the King of Mario Kart.”

You arched your eyebrow. Poe and Rey were looking at the both of you humorously.

“How good?”

And that’s how you found yourself back in Poe’s apartment, moving the coffee table out of the way while Poe hooked up the gaming system.

“How do you want to do this? No matter how good you think you are, your thumb is going to cramp after a couple of races. We’re going to need a break.”

“You don’t think you’re playing alone, do you?” Poe asked, looking between you and Finn. “You’re my girlfriend and all, Y/N, but I’m going to kick your ass.”

A smirk grew on your face. “Is that a challenge?”

“If you want it to be.” Poe stalked towards you, leaning down to your ear. “Just remember that I always win.”

Undoubtedly a little turned on, you had never been more determined to beat someone for. And Poe knew it.

“Fine. Finn and Poe against me and Y/N,” Rey said. “I hope you’re both prepared to get your ass kicked by a couple of girls.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Finn said, handing over a controller. Poe came back into the living room with a piece of paper and a pen.

“We’ll keep track of the points from each set of races. Whoever tallies the most at the end wins.”

As you picked your characters, Mario and Luigi respectively, Rey pulled you aside. “I think they’re strategizing,” she whispered, looking at Finn and Poe, who were huddled up together. Beebs just lay in the middle of the floor with his tail wagging, just wanting to be included.

“What is there to strategize on? You just race,” you said.

“I have an idea. Go for the speeder.” Rey said. “Finn will most likely go with something flashy that has better acceleration but the speeder is easier to control, which will give you the advantage when you get to the harder courses.”

You pointed at her with a smirk. “Good thinking.”

It was back and forth, round after round. You’d win a couple. Finn would win a couple. Then Rey, then Poe. Both teams took to over-the-top celebrations. The guys danced, you and Rey chest bumped. Celebratory shots after each round made their way into the game.

You were having the time of your life.

Entering the final race, the score was incredibly close, the guys leading you by six points. You needed to finish at least fifth in order to beat them. It was you and Finn, battling it out over who’d be crowned the best at Mario Kart. You had just gained the lead when you felt Poe’s hands on your hips. You tried to shake them off, but he wouldn’t budge. You ignored him, but he suddenly wrapped one arm around your waist and started pulling backwards away from the TV.

“Oh hell no! Poe!” you laughed, fighting against the pull, but it was useless. “Rey!”

You grabbed your partner’s attention and tossed her the remote as Poe pulled you back by the couch. You cheered victoriously when Rey got back on course and managed to pull back just behind Finn. You stopped fighting against Poe and rested your arms on top of his, hip-checking him as he buried his face in your neck and wrapped his other arm around you.

“You are such a cheater!” You were giggling uncontrollably as Poe placed kisses wherever he could. He kissed up your neck to your cheek.

“I’m sorry you didn’t think of it,” Poe said against your cheek, with humor in his voice. His lips moved all over your cheek. You turned your face and caught his lips, which he kissed multiple times as you laughed. The joyful crinkles by your eyes matched his.

Finn and Rey glanced at each other with knowing smirks. Their best friend was completely smitten.

Poe rested his chin on your shoulder as you both watched your partners finish the race. He subconsciously tightened his grip around you as Finn and Rey became neck and neck, you cheering as Rey crossed the finish line. She didn’t finish first, but she did beat Finn. Poe released you as you went to high-five Rey, picking up the pad of paper and writing down the scores. You waited anxiously as they tallied up the results.

“We win!”

You and Rey protested, grabbing the paper to double check the math. They had indeed won, and you knew Poe wasn’t going to let you live it down.

“A worthy competitor,” you stuck your hand out to Finn, who shook it. Poe stuck out his hand and you shook your head. “Not happening.”

He gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him. “That’s not very friendly.”

“You and me: rematch.”

“It’s a date.”

He pecked your lips and grabbed the bottles of alcohol to put away. “It’s late, do you guys just want to crash here? I’ve got the guest room and the couch.”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” Rey said, looking at Finn who nodded. “Go take Beebs out, we know where your extra blankets and pillows are.”

While Poe took Beebs out, you helped Finn and Rey get the couch set up, turned off lights, and shut things down for the night. You met them in the middle of the living room, not quite ready to say good night.

“You know, I really admire how strong you’ve kept your friendship after all these years while being thousands of miles apart,” you commented. “I’m terrified of what’s going to happen with my friends here and my friends from high school.”

“Sometimes you just find people in your life who are worth the effort. Rey and Poe are that for me. And you seem to be that way for Poe.”

“So, does that mean I’ve got your approval?”

Finn and Rey glanced at each other before looking back at you. You gave them a knowing look in return.

“Damn, she’s observant,” Finn whispered loudly.

“Not that we should have any say over who Poe chooses to date,” Rey stated. “But yes.”

You gave them a small smile, whispering your thanks that was interrupted with a loud yawn from Finn.

“Sorry, it’s exhausting kicking ass,” Finn said. Both you and Rey rolled your eyes.

“I’ll get better by beating Poe and the next time you come up, we’ll play.”

“Deal.”

It was your turn to yawn, the sleepy ambiance of the apartment practically pushing you towards bed.

“Go to bed, we’ll talk in the morning.” Rey said, hugging you. You were surprised by the action, but hugged her back nonetheless. Finn tapped you on the shoulder as you pulled away from Rey.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do with friends in the next room over.” Finn warned, pulling you into a hug. You chuckled.

“Poe’s gonna gloat all night, so don’t worry. It’s not happening.”

You caught Poe’s eye as he came in the door and seeing you hugging his friend. You expected him to give you a look for talking about him while he was gone, but instead you saw him carefully watching you with a smile on his face as he took off his coat. After just a couple of hours, you were getting along with two of the most important people in his life.

He couldn’t help but be happy.

tag list [open] - @ah-callie @darksideofclarke @gloomygoregirl @leilei-draws @imaginecrushes @i-ievu @brianamaree @yeeintensifies @spider-starry @krazykatkay456 @fanfiction-trashpile @afootnoteinyourhappiness @easterncryptid @my-child-gaara @myrandom-fandomlife @onebatch--twobatch @the-cry-of-youth @p3nny4urth0ught5 @porgiez @umchrisevans @galaxy-of-stories @seeking-a-great--perhaps 

[jeogiyall]

𝐈𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐢𝐝𝐞; 𝒏.𝒚𝒕

⚓︎ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟷𝟺𝚔 (𝚒𝚔 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜)

⚓︎ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾; 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖿𝖾𝗋! 𝖺𝗎, 𝗒𝗎𝗍𝖺 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

⚓︎ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ: 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖿𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒! 𝗒𝗎𝗍𝖺, 𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗄𝗂𝖽! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗂! 𝖺𝗎, 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗃𝗈𝗁𝗇𝗇𝗒, 𝖮𝖢 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖾, 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍 :) || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗏𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗍, 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽, 𝗍𝗈𝗑𝗂𝖼 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀.

⚓︎ ᴀ/ɴ: 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖻𝖾 5𝗄 𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗇𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗅. 𝗂'𝗆 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝖻𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾!! 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗇𝖼𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝖺𝗁𝖺𝗁𝖺 <3 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝖺 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁 + 𝖺𝗋𝗂'𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌. 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗑𝗈𝗑𝗈! -𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

The first thing you do upon entering ‘Yuta and Johnny’s Surf Shack’ is wipe dried tears from your cheeks. It wasn’t that you weren’t beyond ecstatic to be spending a summer in Oahu, Hawai'i, you really were! It was just terrible to be there with your family, terrible to be anywhere with your family. Seriously, you had been on the island for a week and the closest you’d come to having fun was watching your dad golf. Your mother had called you selfish upon your complaint, so you grabbed your bike from the front lawn and left with nowhere to go.

It had been an hour of pedaling with salty tears falling down your cheeks before there was a sign of people actually living here. Before you stumbled upon the small complex of stores it was just ‘Discount Golf Cart Tours!’ and ‘Authentic Oahu Dining!’ but something about this place felt real. Maybe it was the sound of water sloshing on the stilts that supported each building, or the smell of mango wafting out of the fresh grocers, or perhaps the man selling pineapples in front of the surf shack who had fallen asleep face first on his booth, but something about this felt genuine. It also didn’t hurt that you had been wanting to try out surfing. You parked your bike next to the pineapple stand, taking extra precaution to not wake him, and entered the surf store. 

The first thing you noticed was that your cheeks were still wet (hence the wiping,) followed by the smell of sunscreen and cedar wood. It felt like stepping through a portal, one that transported you to a place without overbearing mothers or artificial golf courses. You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, entirely missing the tan boy perched on the storefront counter.

The boy in question was prepared to spill out the usual speech, ‘Welcome to Yuta and Johnny’s surf shack, I’m Yuta and am here to help with any of your needs. Are you interested in renting or purchasing today,’ but something about you made his voice stop working. He blames it on the way your head tilted back, like you were soaking in rays of sunshine, then inhaled deeply as if to take it all in. It seemed personal, fragile. Like it’d be criminal to impose. He doesn’t even consider speaking until you catch him. 

“Um... Are you interested in a rental?” His voice was low and gravelly, laced with an accent. You laughed awkwardly, entire body going pink.

“That obvious, huh?” You felt like an idiot standing there in pinstripe pajama shorts and a tacky button up that’s a few (read: three) sizes too big. Clothes weren’t exactly on your ‘escape the mother’ agenda. 

“Oh, no!” His eyes go wide as he takes in your outfit, “I mean now that you mention it yes, but that wasn’t what I meant at first. Sorry.” You almost see his cheeks turn red.

“It’s okay, I look ridiculous.” He chuckles a little bit, a low and warm sound. You think that he has a nice smile, “I’m actually just browsing today, but I’ll let you know if I need help.” You watch his hair bounce as he nods, it’s light purple and so long that it tickles the tip of his chin.

You doddle around the store for thirty minutes, pretending to look at surf equipment that you have no idea how to use. You almost ask the boy what’s what, but something clenching at your throat prevents you from speaking. In the end you buy a bottle of SPF thirty and a pineapple from the man out front (it feels like you should, seeing as he didn’t kick your bike off of his booth.) The ride home is tranquil and quiet, like a scene out of a movie. 

*

“I want to try surfing.” You lament aimlessly while hugging a pillow. It’s been a week since your excursion to the surf shack, and it’s been on your mind ever since. The surfing, and also maybe the boy working.

“Why?” Maddie Prescot, your neighbor, best friend, and (conveniently) father's largest business partner's daughter, asks while plopping onto your bed, “It’s so scary looking! Like what if you fall off or something, there’s no one else out there with you!” You roll your eyes playfully at the worried expression spreading on her face.

“That’s like the whole point, y’know our dads can’t talk to us if we’re in the middle of the ocean.” The words come out casual, almost as if they weigh nothing. When you see Maddie’s face her eyes are wide and her jaw is dropped.

“I take it back, sign me up right now.” 

(While you two laugh together you think about the first time you met Maddie, the summer spent in Europe. It was when your fathers had just started working together, and terribly miserable. Seriously, two fourteen year old girls forced to sit in stuffy dresses and eat small portions at restaurants where you had to speak softly. She had approached you after the first dinner right as your stomach grumbled lowly.

“Are you still hungry?” You nodded reluctantly, “Me too, let’s get food delivered back to our houses.” 

“Oh, um, I don’t-”

“Dad! (y/n)’s sleeping over!” She called across the narrow, Italian street. It was a summertime friendship, yet in a way it meant so much more. Maddie was the first person that understood any part of your life, and despite the fact that during the school year she was an entire country away it always felt like you could talk to her. Even if it was about something dumb, she was always there. )

“Are we getting uber food after dinner?” 

“Always!” She answers, smiling in a way that looks familiar, “I do have to go get ready though, see you tonight!” She exits the room in a flurry, leaving behind the scent of strawberry shampoo and a grin on your face.

*

“Oh my gosh Maddie-”

“Shush, you’re gonna wake up my parents!” Maddie chided, loading a glass plate with a pink bar of soap on it into the microwave. Your brain was certainly tired, but not tired enough to think this was a good idea.

“You’re trying to make something explode, but yes my convincing you to not explode things is gonna wake up your dad who’s two floors away!” She smiles brightly at your words while pressing the on button.

“I’m glad that we’re on the same page!” You groan, feeling gray hairs popping out of your scalp just from the sight of her.

“I swear being friends with you is like being a babysitter.”

*

"Hiding from the rain?” The boy at the counter asks. You immediately notice that it’s the same boy that was manning the counter the last time that you ran away to ‘Yuta and Johnny’s Surf Shack,’ except now his skin is even tanner. You inhale deeply while cringing at the wet clothes on your skin.

“If I was, I definitely failed, don’t you think?” You tease, motioning to the soaked hair on top of your head. He laughs, a sound that nearly warms up your wet limbs, and nods.

“Pretty miserably, let me get you a towel.” You’re about to tell him ‘No, don’t even worry about it! I’m fine!’ but a shiver runs down your body, and you want nothing more than to be warm.

“Please.” He giggles at the slight crack in your voice, you think that it’s the first time you’ve ever heard a boy giggle. It suits him, “So are you Yuta or Johnny?” You ask while the boy rummages beneath the counter.

“Guess.” 

“Umm, Johnny?” When he resurfaces with a pink fuzzy towel in hand he’s wearing a hurt expression, like you just told him that you don’t like his hair. Not that you would ever say that. Much like giggles and wide smiles, long lilac hair suits him.

“How dare you?” Despite your best efforts you laugh, walking over to take the towel where he offers.

“Sorry, Yuta.”

“I don’t want to hear it.” You take the towel from his hands, still biting back laughter, “I’m just kidding. Sorry, I tend to do that too much, what can I help you with?”

“You’re not joking too much, and I’m not sure. Surfing, I guess.” His eyebrows furrow as he watches you wrap the towel around your body like a blanket.

“You guess?”

“Yea...” Your voice is tiny, confused. It makes something inside of him turn pink.

“And you’ve been on the island for how long?” Your response barely sounds like words, but he somehow manages to gather ‘three and a half weeks’ from your sullen mumbles, “Yea, we’re done guessing, come back next Wednesday. One work for you?” It feels like your head is literally made of rocks as you nod, “Okay. You’re learning to surf.” If it weren’t for the fact that they weren’t rolling around on the floor, you would’ve thought your eyes had popped out.

“Oh, thank you. How much?” He looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, “Like... How much should I pay you?”

“Don’t be goofy, that’s why we have Johnny. To be goofy.”

“Seriously, I can’t not pay you.”

“(y/n,) I want to do this.” His eyes are trained on you, they feel heavy.

“How do you know my name?”

“Back of your bike.” The fact that he already has the answer to everything makes your cheeks heat up. You don’t know if it’s in a crush way or in the job interview kind of way. Judging by his strong arms and honey skin you think that it’s crush kind.

“That’s kind of weird... Really weird.” You move to leave, but turn around one last time. He’s smiling at your back, and you know in that instant that he’s going to ruin your life “I’ll see you next Wednesday.”

His smile follows you out the door and to the pineapple booth, then all the way home.

*

Your mom questions why you always come home with an enormous pineapple. You fib through your teeth and tell her that you pick them off the side of the street. She doesn’t really buy it, you don’t either. It’s clear that she’s about to push harder, but then your father walks through the front door of the rental home and suddenly everything is about him. For the first time in your life you don’t really mind it. There’s something nice about having the surf shack (and Yuta) all to yourself.

*

“You’re going to fall off, that’s just how it works. Everyone falls.” Yuta reasons while staring at your panicked frame. Everything was going great with the lesson, right up until you saw Johnny (co-owner of the store, and resident gentle giant) get entirely wiped out on a huge wave. Now you’re sitting on the lavender colored surfboard (that you definitely didn’t choose because it matches Yuta’s hair. Definitely not) with trembling arms, “Besides, when you fall it won’t hurt as bad as when Johnny does it.” 

“Why?” It’s genuinely obnoxious how high your voice shoots up.

“Because you’re not seven feet tall. You really don’t even need to worry about it right now, not like you’re catching any waves today anyways.” You cringe, the blue rash guard you got from their surf shack suddenly feeling too tight (you tried to buy it, but each time you moved to give Yuta the cash he would squeeze his eyes shut and pretend like you weren’t there,) “Seriously, just enjoy being out here.” He reaches out to grab your arm before realizing that his board is definitely too far away. He laughs, and you can’t help but join in. He has that effect on people.

When you two eventually paddle back to shore the sun is getting ready to set, casting a golden haze over everything. You think that the boy standing in front of you looks beautiful. It’s the first time a boy has ever been that to you.

“Thank you for my first ever surf lesson. It was really fun, but I sadly have to get going now.” Wet hair is tickling your chin, and you’re dreading explaining this to your parents. 

“Alright, same time next week?” Your heart catches on the hook of his words, slowly unraveling into a useless ball of yarn.

“Yea.” The word feels like it weighs five thousand pounds. It gets heavier with every step you take towards your baby blue bike, parked up against the shabby pineapple stand.

“(Y/N!)” Yuta shouts, still standing on the white sand of the beach. For the first time all day you notice that he’s not the only person there.

“What?” You call back, voice uncharacteristically loud. Yuta also has that effect on people, pulling out the daring parts that shout across crowded beaches and lie to their parents.

“Can I get you dinner next time?” A smile erupts on his face as if it’s volcanic, there’s one on yours too. You think to yourself that his smile could fix everything bad inside of you.

“I’d love that!” 

You wear his smile to sleep that night. 

*

Four days after your first surf lesson your muscles are still sore. It’s not a normal kind of sore either, one where you can take an advil and get over it, of course it’s not. It’s the kind of sore that makes your muscles spasm at the most inopportune times ever. In example: right now, standing in front of Maddie’s entire family while sipping red wine that you weren’t supposed to have. The fact that your dress was white cotton didn’t help to ease your nerves.

“Are you okay?” Maddies oldest brother, Warner, asks you. You try to nod, then quickly give up after remembering where your pain was.

“Yea.” You exhaled, rolling your head backwards, “I’m just sore, it’s a pressure thing I guess.” He chuckles, low and crunchy. It makes your stomach churn, but not the same way that Yuta’s does. 

*

“Can I ask you something?” Yuta asks while shaking water from his hair. You two were waiting for grubhub to arrive at the surf store with post surf lesson dinner. Yuta had taken to putting on dry clothes while you sat shivering on the counter, wrapped up in a fluffy towel.

“Depends.” There’s a small smile playing on your lips, immediately pulling a giggle from the tanned boy. You want to bottle up the sound and keep it tucked underneath your pillow.

“Why do you... Hold back so much?” You look at him as if you don’t know what he’s talking about. You do, obviously, you’ve been holding back for as long as you can remember, but it’s almost embarrassing that he’s noticed it “Don’t look at me like that, you know what I mean. Like... Like how whenever I make a joke you try to not laugh, why don’t you laugh? Not just that, but... That.” A part of you wants to not tell him, wants to keep Yuta and everything nasty inside of you completely separate. There’s a bigger part of you that gives into his dripping honey smile and blanket laugh.

“My parents sent me to a boarding school that’s really... Strict, I guess? I don’t know, it’s competitive and no one is friends with anyone. You’re literally my second friend ever, we are friends right?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, imagine if you had said no.” You pull wet hair off the back of your neck, suddenly feeling very dizzy, “Anyways, yes. My parents, like... They are also super strict. I’m always too loud, or too goofy, or too serious, or just... Just too much. Too much.” You mean to keep talking, but your voice gives out as tears stream down your face. Yuta doesn’t notice for a second, but as soon as he does you have strong arms wrapping around your shoulders.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry!” He coos while squeezing you tight. If you weren’t bawling into his chest you would think about how this is the first real hug you’ve gotten in months, “Oh gosh! You’re gonna get sunscreen in your eyes, here! Use my shirt!” He’s shoving his shirt into your face, and if you weren’t crying out basically every frustration that you’ve ever had, it would be kind of funny. You wipe the tears out of your eyes, then the sunscreen from your forehead, and then you just hold the fabric.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” You sob, clenching onto his (once) dry shirt, “It’s the first time I’ve ever talked about it, a-and I ruined your shirt, and I’m so sorry!” 

“S’okay. You’re okay.” He makes the words feel true, holding you in a way that no one ever has. It’s a clingy kind of hold, one that doesn’t let up until his phone dings. He keeps an arm slung around your shoulder while reading the lit screen, “Food is here, why don’t you go put on some dry clothes?” You rub the sticky tears from your cheeks while shaking your head lightly.

“I didn’t bring any, my parents would’ve asked where I was going and then I’d have to-” He brings up one hand to cover your mouth while the other one fishes under the counter. You think this is the nicest way that anyone has told you to shut up.

“Borrow mine.” 

The shirt falls to your mid-thigh, so you don’t even bother with his shorts. (With how tiny that boy's waist is, the shorts probably wouldn’t fit anyways.) He spends dinner cracking jokes just to make you laugh and staring at your profile when he thinks you’re not looking. 

“Okay,” You manage through dad joke induced laughter, “I really do have to get going now. Sun’s starting to set, and I don’t have a helmet light.”

“I’d pay to see that.” He helps you gather up your trash and walks you to the door, which is only two seconds away from where you were previously, “I’m gonna say something, and I hope I don’t make you cry again, so I’m telling you that I’m gonna say something.” You smile, playfully rolling your eyes. It’s ridiculous to you how easy it all feels.

“It wasn’t your fault I cried, it’s just because-”

“Okay talking now!” Laughter floats in the space between your bodies as he smiles shyly, “I think you’re really sweet. Like, the way that you buy a pineapple from Mr. Kahale every time you leave, or how you still try to buy stuff from me, or... The way that you laugh at all my jokes? Even the ones that really aren’t funny, you still laugh. I think that makes you sweet, and you’re also funny, and sarcastic, and hardworking... And not too much. Never too much.”

The words scratch into the back of your eyelids, and you read them in between every blink.

* 

“Hey Johnny!” You chirp upon entering the surf shack. It’s half past noon, but you doubted that anyone would send you packing for showing up too early. 

“(y/n,) hi! Come on in, can I get you a cup of coffee?” The tall boy asks, already turning around to prepare the mug. Honestly? You had already made a cup early in the morning and two cups would definitely make you jittery, but Johnny was so eager that you let him go ahead. 

“Sure, go ahead. No sugar and four creams, please.” You assume your usual position on the checkout counter while Johnny plugs in the Keurig machine. Words float out of his mouth and around the room, never quite hitting your ears. It’s not that he’s boring, just that something feels off, “Hey, where’s Yuta?” The boy rolls his eyes exasperatedly, knowing fully well that you didn’t hear a single thing that he said.

“He’ll be here soon. Didn’t come in this morning since it’s his day off and all; here’s your coffee!” Johnny sees something on your face, written in furrowed eyebrows and down turned lips, “Don’t worry, he’s still coming in for your lessons!” You take the cup, head swimming with tan skin and hair that’s a little too long.

“I didn’t know it was his day off.” Johnny smiles brightly, exhaling a laugh. 

“Wednesdays have always been his off days, well until recently. He comes in to teach you but that’s it.” Your cheeks turn bright pink, spreading quickly down your neck, “You know, he told me that- Yuta! Welcome home!” Something rises in your chest at Johnny's unspoken words, only to crest when you see the boy in question's beautiful smile (the one that reaches everything around him and paints it into something pretty.)

“Hi (y/n)! Happy to see you!” And that’s when it crashes in a big mess of soft smiles and snotty confessions. You want to tell him that he’s the second person that’s ever listened to you, that he’s the only boy that’s ever made you smile. You want to tell him that pieces of him live in your head, coming up in the moments where everything is too hard to handle.

The only words that manage to squeeze out of your throat are, “You too, ready to start?”

If his bright laugh was any indicator, then he certainly got the message.

*

“Sweetie, why is your face sunburned?” Your mother asks while dumping eggs on your plate. The burn across your nose was from staying out just a little too long with Yuta, but obviously she could never know about that. Instead you shrug, pretending like you didn’t even know it was there.

“Don’t know, sun’s bright I guess.” Her eyes narrow, and you know from eighteen years of stretching the truth that she doesn’t buy it. A groan (partnered with dread) rises in your throat at the idea of trying to dig your way out of this, just like you had to last week when she asked about your wet hair. This whole lying thing used to be so easy, something that just rolled off your tongue, but upon realizing that people can make you smile and that life can be enjoyed you always get terrible cottonmouth whenever you need to lie. A small part of you knows that it’s because you don’t want to lie about being happy, that you want someone to tell everything to, but a bigger part wants to stay in the dark. 

“You lie like a cheap carpet.” She teases, voice twinging with a southern accent that she never had. It almost makes you want to tell her, then you think back to your last summer roller derby practice. When you had scraped your knee open. Your mom had been shocked after seeing the blood that stretched from the bottom of your thigh to the middle of your calf, but that was all replaced when you told her where it was from. Within twenty minutes you learned every synonym for ‘irresponsible’ that there was

(”I do everything around this house and this is how you repay me?! By getting injured, and oh I don’t know lying?!” You had cringed at her harsh words, right leg still aching with pain.

“I’m sorry!” You sobbed out, praying that the high ceilings of your kitchen would crash down on your head.

“I’m sure you are, God (y/n) do you even know what it’s like to run a household?! I am exhausted, and you’re running around and hurting yourself?!” 

“Well maybe you wouldn’t have to ‘run the household’ if your stupid fucking husband would ever come home and raise his child! And maybe I wouldn’t feel the need to keep things from you if you didn’t react like this!” Tears trickled down your mother's cheeks, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You had been crying first, anyways.

“To your room.” Her jaw was clenched so tight that even water wouldn’t be able to slip through it, “Now!” 

You had run up the stairs and into your room as fast as possible, then proceeded to slam the door and hurl your skates into a bookshelf. Needless to say, you never got to go back to derby.)

“I’m not lying, mom.” You breathe out, shoveling the last bit of scrambled eggs into your mouth, “I’m going over to Maddie’s, see you at the dinner party tonight!” Her gaze follows you out the door, sitting on your shoulders and swallowing you like a denim jacket.

*

You checked the time on your phone for the fourth time in the past ten minutes, only to groan upon realizing that not even a minute had passed since the last time you checked. Maddie had been getting the food for around fifteen minutes, and while the grubhub delivery boy was probably tripping over his tongue at the flirting that was definitely going on, your stomach was starting to grumble. It’s starting to sound violent

“Hungry?” A gravelly voice asks from behind you, causing hair to prick up on the nape of your neck before realizing that it’s just Warner.

“You shouldn’t scare people like that! Especially when they’re sitting on the ledge of a balcony!” It feels like your mother crawls out of your mouth, so you close it harshly and swallow before even considering speaking again, “And yes, extremely. Maddie’s supposed to come back up with the food, but she’s been gone for fifteen minutes.” 

“Yea,” He chuckles while sliding onto the balcony railing, it makes you think of Yuta’s soft giggles, “she’s flirting with the delivery boy.” A heavy breath runs down your cheeks while eyes roll into the back of your head.

“How did I know?” When he laughs a hand brushes on your thigh, then stays there. Your cheeks turn red, but it’s more of an embarrassed blush. Not the innocent sunrise blush that Yuta paints your body with. You stare at his hand, begging for it to move. It never does, “(y/n,-)” 

“I have t-to go. I have to go check on Maddie.” The way your body stumbles over the railing and through the French glass doors is embarrassing, but you don’t care. You’d trip over a million banana peels if it got rid of Warners expectant gaze.

It follows you down the hallway, through one living room, and into a stairwell, only leaving when Maddie bumps into you with a loud ‘oomf!’ 

“Hey honey, where are you going?” Her voice is so sweet, like the way someone would talk to a puppy. With anyone else it’d be patronizing, but with Maddie it feels like home.

“Warner like... touched my thigh, but it wasn’t a big deal. Just made me uncomfy.” She smiles sympathetically, knowing fully well that this wasn’t her brother's first time leaving a girl feeling like this.

“He’s an asshole.” The blunt words look funny coming out of your friend's soft face, so you laugh.

“Yea.”

“Let’s eat, I’m starved.” You think to yourself that you’ll never find a person like her, before nodding and falling in line behind her.

*

The first time that you manage to catch a real wave, not the baby ones that Yuta made you ‘ride’ right by the shore, you feel so free that you could cry. The wave is at least six feet tall, but in your head it feels much taller. Like something that could swallow you whole, but also something that you told not to. And something that listened.

You don’t even know what to do with all of the energy coursing in your veins, so you do nothing. Just let it fester while riding the wave, exactly the way that Yuta taught you. With feet planted strongly in the center of the board, everything smelling like salt water, and a huge smile spreading across your face. Although you don’t see him, Yuta is cheering from the sand, which is exactly where you go once the wave breaks.

You start to run to the boy, adrenaline still writhing in your body, but the running stops as soon as you pummel face first into the shin deep water. Perhaps running with something attached to your ankle isn’t the smartest move, but you’re too high to care. It’s all you can do to not burst out laughing at yourself.

“Are you okay?!” Yuta asks as his arms materialize beneath you. His eyes are slightly worried, causing a ridiculous contrast to your wild ones.

“Never better, did you see that?!” He barely has you out the water before you’re bouncing around again.

“What, you cleaning the ocean floor with your face or-”

“Don’t be a butt!” You tease while flicking his temple, “Did you see it?!”

“Of course I did! I was cheering and everyth-” Your lips are on his. You’re standing in the water of a Hawaii beach, and kissing Nakamoto Yuta. You’re (y/n,) who just rode a six foot tall wave, and you are kissing Nakamoto Yuta. You are kissing him, and he tastes like sun drenched honey. There’s nothing that could make this feel real, not even if someone came up and pinched you.

Even as his tongue swipes over your lower lip, even as his hand comes up to cradle your jaw, even as your hands tangle in the ends of his long hair. Nothing could convince you that this isn’t a dream. Maybe it’s the way that Yuta kisses like he needs it to survive, or how he’s listening to you despite the fact that no words have been exchanged, or maybe even how the waves are crashing you endlessly closer to him. Everything about his mouth on yours is far too good to be true.

“Was that okay?” You exhale, hot breath fanning against the boys cheeks, “I mean like, that I kissed you?” Everything feels hazy as your eyes focus in on his giddy smile. You think to yourself that his smile rivals every sunset that you’ve ever seen.

“Yes.” He responds, chest heaving, “Yea, it’s okay.” He rests his forehead against yours as a wave brushes the hems of your rash guards.

“Did you really see?” Something in your voice sparkles, it makes Yuta’s heart stop.

“I see everything that you do. The sharp inhales, the way your head tilts back when you enjoy something, the way you smile when Johnny offers you coffee. I’m starting to think that the only reason I have eyes is to look at you.” The words ricochet around your head, leaving your eyes watery and heart heavy. 

“Yuta?” You ask before swallowing hard. There’s a hand tangled in his lilac hair, the other cradling the back of his neck. He thinks to himself that he could die like this and still be happy, “I’m going to kiss you again.”

“Okay.” He answers. The word feels like it weighs a thousand pounds, and also like you could lift it with your pinky..

* 

There were three times in your life where you felt peace. The first time was a week spent in Spain with your boarding school, everyone stayed together in a hotel with a huge open air courtyard. You had spent each day out there amongst the plants, doing nothing except for school readings and breathing in the fresh air.

The second time was your first sleepover with Maddie. She had ordered Chinese and rented some Italian film that you can’t remember the name of anymore. She was the first person to listen to you about anything, and even though it was over something as simple as beef or chicken lo mein and what movie to watch, it felt nice. You remember falling asleep that night feeling like your heart was full.

And the third time was now, sitting on your board past where the waves break with Yuta. You’re about to paddle back to shore, but for now the boy is just basking in golden sun and splashing water at you.

“Stop!” You cry out, holding up one hand uselessly, “If I fall off you’re coming with me!” He smirks playfully, splashing the water even harder.

“Good, then maybe I can kiss you.” Something in your heart clenches at his childlike smile, and you almost understand the want to be pushed into the ocean just so you can kiss his honey lips.

“Come on, let’s head in.” As the two of you roll in with the evening tide, you can’t help but think that no one will ever make you happy the way that he does.

*

Despite growing closer with both shop owners, entering the surf shack still manages to transport you to a new planet. It’s like there’s nothing in the world that can brace you for the smell of bananas and fresh cut wood, or the sight of Johnny beaming from behind the counter while Yutas legs dangle from his perch. It’s nothing special, but in a way it is. At least to you.

“(y/n!)” They both cheer, Yuta sliding quickly off the counter while Johnny starts up the keurig. 

“Four creams?” Johnny asks as Yuta presses a loud kiss to your tanned cheek. The taller boy pulls a face of disgust, so you giggle and push the sweet boy away.

“Yea, please!” Yuta is still trying to kiss your face, his tan arms wrapping around any part of you that he can reach, “Yes, hi Yuta, I’m excited to see you too! Now, stop being gross.” You and Johnny both chuckle while Yuta pouts, pressing one last kiss to your temple.

“I like being gross.” He grumbles, returning back to his spot on the counter. You follow close behind and ruffle a hand in his lilac hair.

“We know.”

“No matter how hard he tries, he will never be as gross as keurig coffee.” Johnny states, head shaking solemnly. Yuta busts out laughing and pushes his friend's shoulder.

“I like keurig coffee!” You protest, causing Johnny to chuckle while Yuta continues to giggle. You accept the mug from Johnny when he hands it to you, and everything feels so regular that it hurts.

*

It’s another breakfast spent shoveling runny eggs into your mouth in hopes to leave before your parents bring up any taboo topics, except this time something is off. Your father is actually here, for starters, then add that to the part where him and your mother are staring at you as if they’re waiting for an answer and you end up with a churning feeling in your gut. Your mother's eyebrows haven’t relaxed since you sliced up the pineapple.

“Sweetie, have you ever considered dating?” The words are so unexpected that you choke, a hand flying to your glass of water.

“Excuse me?” You wheeze, cheeks flushing bright pink. She’s going to ask about Yuta, you just know she’s going to ask about him. It was the love bite that gave it away, the one in the hollow of your throat. You knew he shouldn’t have done it, but there were no real thoughts in that moment. Just his lips and your skin.

“Oh, you know, just going out to dinner. Seeing a movie, you know plenty of nice boys right?” The words are swimming through your head, pushing hard into the back of your eyes.

“I don’t think I understand-” Your response is choked, your throat clenching around each syllable that comes out.

“Like um... Cameron, the boy you did that group project with? Or Donny, the one who ran for class President?” You nod slowly, waiting for the final blow, “Or Warner! Why don’t you date Warner?” 

“Warner?” You don’t have to play dumb anymore, you actually have no idea what she’s talking about. Aside from the relief that no one knows about Yuta, confusion washes over you.

“Yea!” She chimes, hands clapping together, “He’s so sweet and smart, and I think he’s kinda handsome, right?” All you can think of is the way his eyes peeled you apart in the worst way possible, like you owed him something. Like it didn’t matter that you didn’t want his hands anywhere near you.

“Um, yea. Warner’s sweet.” The words taste like bile coming up your throat, “I have to go now, see you guys later.” You run out of the house like your heels are on fire, and the only way to put them out is to get as far away from their expectant stares as quickly as possible.

*

“Yuta, come on! I told you, no more love bites!” You groan, pulling him away by the hair.

“But I know you like them so much!” He pouts, moonlight cascading through the shop windows and across his tanned face. Tonight had been a dinner party night, which meant that right now you should be at Maddie’s house. Except for the fact that she had a secret date with the grub hub delivery boy.

(“I’m so sorry, please don’t tell anyone!” She had pleaded, eyes growing wide and watery. You always thought it was ridiculous how she could make herself cry on command. No one person should have that much power.

“So long as you don’t tell anyone that I’m sneaking out too.” Her eyes (now entirely void of tears) widened, one hand reaching out to push your shoulder while you giggled shyly.

“Who are you and what have you done with (y/n?!)” 

“... Nothing?”)

“I do, but I think my mom saw…” His pout expands into a smile while your cheeks turn bright pink. A giggle slips past his lips as he rests your foreheads together.

“Really?” The boy whispers, as if you’re not the only other person in the room.

“Yes!” You laugh back, “Stop laughing at me!” The words just make him laugh harder.

“I’m sorry, it’s just funny!” Your eyebrows furrow as you stick your tongue out at him, making him smile even brighter, “Come on, don’t be mad at me! Honey, don’t be mad at m- mmph!” The words (and teasing) stop as soon as your lips collide, swallowed by something hot and needy. You think to yourself that his lips taste like honey, then that you’d give anything to kiss him for forever. 

“Yuta,” You breathe out, trying to get the boys attention. It doesn’t work, his lips stay on yours, “Yuta!” 

“Yea?” He asks, pulling back so little that his lips brush yours upon moving.

“I love you.” The smile on his face is worth a thousand dollars. You want to kiss it, so you do.

The action is slow and fueled with passion, him whispering ‘I love you too’ against you any chance that he can get.

*

A long time ago you decided that the only good thing about dinner parties was the fact that you got to get ready for them. Last week you wore your favorite blue dress, the one with ruffles on the sleeves, and a petite golden chain (which ended up on the checkout counter of your boyfriends store. You’re ninety percent sure that he took it home.) Yuta had nearly lost his mind when you stumbled into the store looking like that, with high heels dangling from your fingertips.

This week was something slightly different, seeing as it was something that your mother insisted on. A form fitting white dress with detailed embroidery around the waist. You found it to be repulsive, but it matched your favorite pearls so you let her go ahead and take it to the dry cleaners.

“Sweetie, I’m coming upstairs with your dress in ten minutes!” She hollers up the stairs. You clamp the pearls quickly, then throw your electric blue rash guard into the closet.

“Okay!” You respond, opening up the makeup drawer of your desk.

She enters the room quietly and hangs the dress on your closet door. You were hoping it would get less ugly the more you looked at, but it was turning out to be quite the opposite. It really just looked like a bad ice skating costume.

“It’s sad to think that we’ll be leaving in two weeks, isn’t it?” You hum in agreement while taking a brush to your eyelid. This talk is barely something that phases you anymore, seeing as you’ve already discussed everything with Yuta. Leave for two months, take your gap year on Oahu, and then apply to all of the local universities that you can, “We have to go back to the real world, with all of the responsibilities.” The way she’s talking feels rehearsed, as if she’s been waiting to say this to you for a long time.

“... Yea?” Her smile is so sweet that you barely believe it’s hers.

“But you don’t have many of those right now, do you? Nothing but enjoying your gap year and-”

“Mom, can you just tell me whatever you’re trying to say?” You snap, the brush clattering out of your hand and onto the glass top of the vanity. She slides down onto your unmade bed, hands making fists in the fabric of her skirt while she swallows heavily.

“You’re not going to like it very much.” It feels like your tongue is made of cotton again.

“Tell me. Please.” Her lower lip quivers, causing your stomach to clench even tighter.

“Do you remember when we spent the summer in Europe with the Prescot’s?” You nod slowly, remembering your very first encounter with Maddie, “And your father spent the entire time negotiating with Mr. Prescot?” You nod again, vividly remembering all of the lonely nights spent pretending to be asleep while your father stumbled home drunk off of wine.

“Yea, but he decided to go along with it because dad offered him a huge share of the income.” She looks at you as if you didn’t finish the sentence, “Right?”

“Right... Mostly right.” You inhale deeply, hoping for a breath of fresh air. You don’t get it, the entire room smells like a thunderstorm, “They also reached an agreement regarding you.”

“W-what?” She reaches out to hold your hands, you’re so confused that you let her.

“Your father and Mr. Prescot agreed that when you turn eighteen, and Warner twenty, that you two would become e-engaged to be-” The realization settles in right as your pearls begin to tighten. She keeps talking, saying things like ‘legal,’ and ‘sweet boy,’ but you feel nothing. Nothing other than your pearls tightening, suffocating you slowly but surely. They tighten like a vice, and you’re sure that you’ll never breathe again.

“W-when?” Your words are small and pathetic, one hand reaching up to grasp the dainty necklace.

“We’re announcing it tonight, I-I’m... I’m gonna leave you alone to process.” She squeezes your hands one last time, then leaves, “And please do a little bit of makeup, there’s going to be photographs. We don’t want to see your splotchy skin, do we?” With that she’s gone, door shut tightly and room silent.

Something pounds heavily against your skull, turning everything blurry. The only thought you can register is that you have to vomit, now. It takes everything in you to stumble towards the en suite, but once you get there your body knows exactly what to do.

There’s cold tile on your exposed knees as you empty the contents of your stomach into the ivory toilet. You vomit for nearly forty minutes, pulling at the suffocating pearls the whole time. The strand almost snaps, you barely even care.

Your head feels empty, like you puked out every thought and anxiety until you were just a shell of a person. A shell of a person who was engaged to Warner Prescot, and not Nakamoto Yuta.

*

The dinner party feels more like a trip to the aquarium, but you’re the fish. You and Warner sit at the head of the table, his hand taking home on the small of your back (he wiggles his fingers far too much, which sends the worst kind of shivers down your spine,) and everyone is staring. It makes you wonder how many people knew about this before you did.

When Warner stands to announce the engagement you almost vomit again. Maddie looks at you, her eyes screaming “I’m so sorry.” You ask her to help, to get you out of here. She looks away. It feels like there’s no air left to breathe, you think that even if there was you wouldn’t inhale. You want to suffocate, you want to stop existing. You want the carpeted floor of this high scale restaurant to swallow you whole.

Most of all, you want Yuta.

*

It’s half past eleven when you barge through the doors of the surf store, and Yuta’s leaning against the counter. There’s lilac hair falling in his eyes, painting the picture of not having a care in the world.

“(y/n!)” He beams, heart clenching tightly, “You look beautiful baby- baby? What’s wrong?” You don’t know what it was, maybe the stress of everything. Maybe the taste of vomit that was stuck in your throat, despite brushing your teeth ten times. Maybe the feeling of Maddie’s sad eyes telling you that there was nothing she could do to help, but you start bawling. 

They’re ugly, wet sobs that shake you from your toes to your shoulders. You’re on the floor, hands gripping your hair so hard that it hurts. Yuta’s rushing over to you, and you can’t even bring yourself to look at his face.

“What do you need me to do?” He asks, voice soft and warm and painfully comforting.

“Hold me.” You whimper, suddenly afraid that if you say anything else your voice will give out and you’ll be nothing but a sobbing mess. A sobbing mess who’s engaged. 

So Yuta holds you, and holds you, and holds you. It’s a loving touch, one that wants nothing for him. A touch that gives endlessly, with warm skin and heaving chests. His fingertips brush your shoulder while his lips kiss the shell of your ear.

“What’s wrong?” He whispers, causing your heart to clench violently. You grab his face, hoping that if you kiss him he’ll stop asking questions. He doesn’t go for it, “Sweetie stop, tell me what’s wrong.” You don’t want to tell him, you’d rather plunge yourself face first into the ocean than tell him. Something about telling Yuta makes this real.

“It’s nothing,” He knows that your eyes are too sad to be telling the truth, “I just love you.” You sob out, collapsing once again onto his shoulder. His hand strokes your hair while your back shakes.

“I know, I love you too.” You wonder if this last time that you’ll feel like those words are true, “I love you too.”

*

Ever since the start of your engagement (a week and a half) you’ve been running out of the house as early as possible, not even bothering with the under cooked eggs. The days find you in different places, usually at the surf shack or trying to catch some waves, but never home. And never with Warner.

Today you’re on the checkout counter, slicing up pineapple with a knife that you probably shouldn’t have and passing it to your friends. Yuta is tending to a customer, a poor sunburned guy well into his thirties who’s trying to buy a board, while Johnny smiles and taps away on his phone. It’s not the usual smile, goofy and carefree, now he’s beaming like he has to outshine the sun. He almost does.

“What’s got you so happy today?” You ask, passing him a paper plate with perfect cubes of pineapple. That was one of the best things about Mr. Kahale’s booth (other than the fact that you’re still allowed to park there,) you’ve become a pro at cutting up the fruit. Yuta always asks you to cut his into stars.

“Nothing.” He answers, giddy smile threatening to crack his face. He knows that you don’t buy it.

“People don’t smile like that over nothing, Johnny.” There’s a nervous laugh, then he pops a cube into his mouth.

“Well, I do.” You roll your eyes so hard that it almost hurts, then return to cutting up the pineapple.

“He’s texting his girlfriend.” Yuta interjects, pressing a kiss to your temple while thumbing through a stack of cash. You were so busy trying to pull an answer out of Johnny that you didn’t even notice him closing the sale.

“Girlfriend?!” You gasp, laughing at the way his cheeks turn pink, “Tell me more!” 

“Her name is Maddie.” Your stomach drops as Johnny bites out his answer, but it’s probably nothing. There are thousands of girls named Maddie, right? 

��Just wait until you hear how they met!” Yes! How they met! Maddie’s going out with the grubhub delivery boy, Johnny works here.

“How did you meet?” Your voice tries to give you away, so you continue to cut up the pineapple. Maybe if you focus on this they won’t pick up on your uneven breathing.

“Well I was doing a late night delivery, for grubhub?” Oh no, “I guess I never mentioned that I do that. Anyways, it’s like half past midnight and I pull up to this huge house, like seriously the biggest house I’ve ever been to, and this girl opens the door. We talked for like twenty minutes before she took her food, but just as she was about to go inside I grabbed the bag and wrote my number on it.” Okay, so that’s definitely Maddie. Johnny is definitely dating Maddie, but this isn’t the end of the world. They know Maddie, but that doesn’t mean that they know about you. They probably don’t even know that she has a friend who happens to be engaged to her brother.

“And she has this friend, Johnny what’s her name?” Oh no, oh no, oh no. You can feel Yutas eyes boring into your skull.

“I don’t think she’s said, but (y/n) this story is just... Insane, really.” Maybe she just told him about the time that you tried to backflip into her pool when you were nine and nearly broke your neck. That’s probably all that it is, “She’s engaged to Maddie’s brother! It’s some ridiculous arranged marriage plot with their parents companies, it’s like a tv show!” There is no air left in the room, and you briefly think that you’re going to pass out. He keeps talking but you can’t hear. You don’t know if you want to hear, for some reason hearing Johnny talk about how insane it is reminds you that it’s terribly insane.

“Shit!” You cry out as your knife slips away from the fruit and then across the skin of your thumb. There’s blood, but you barely even feel it over the lump in your throat. Johnny’s getting you a napkin, Yuta’s cradling your hand. It feels like you're going to pass out, you think if you don’t leave then you’re going to fall onto the floor and pass out, “I have to go outside.” Yuta’s mouth moves, but there are no words. No words as you stumble out the door and down to the beach, or as you gasp for air and collapse onto the hot sand.

You sit there for at least twenty minutes, cradling your bleeding thumb and watching the waves retreat, before Yuta materializes next to you. He’s holding a band aid while wearing a concerned expression.

“Let me see your hand.” Suddenly he’s holding your hand, wrapping up the cut and then pressing a kiss to the inside of your palm. It makes your heart feel watery, or your eyes. You’ve kind of lost track at this point, “Will you please tell me what’s wrong? You show up to the shack at midnight and just start bawling, which is fine! I don’t mind, but you’ve been off ever since then. It’s like, the only time I’ve ever felt helpless, I don’t know how to help because I have absolutely no idea what’s wrong, a-and-”

“I’m Maddies friend.” He’s about to laugh, but then he sees your tear streaked cheeks. You don’t even know when you started crying, “I’m Maddies friend, a-and I have to marry her brother, who I hate! And my parents didn’t even tell me until the night they announced it to all of the business partners, how fucked up is that?!” There’s something breaking in your chest, Yuta thinks he feels it too, “I mean, how fucked up is all of this?!”

“You’re engaged?” The words make you laugh, which is probably inappropriate. It is inappropriate, but you can’t even make yourself care.

“Yes, and I hate him. And I love you.” His hands are buried in his lilac hair, it reminds you of the first time that you kissed. 

“Can’t you say no?” You want to say yes, say that you can leave everything behind and be nothing but his. Be nothing but yours, but there’s something clamping down on your tongue. He watches as your jaw tightens and a fresh set of tears fall down your cheeks, “Okay, I get it.” And then he’s leaving, and you know nothing other than the fact that you want him to stay.

“Yuta!” It sounds like you’re begging, in a way you are.

“I have to go!” You sit on the beach sobbing for hours, or minutes. Everything around you turns gray, and you think that this is just the perfect start to the rest of your life. 

* 

Maddie is lying on her bed and speaking into her phone when you find her. Her eyebrows are furrowed, eyes full of crystal tears that won’t fall. You can only assume that she’s talking to Johnny.

“Yea she’s here, I have to go. See you tomorrow, bye bye.” The words were quiet, her voice trembling, “He’s telling Yuta that you’re with me.”

“Oh.” The sound is pathetic; all broken, and watery, and tired. You want to cry again, but there are no tears left. Just a hollow feeling returning to your chest. 

“(y/n,) I’m so sorry. I was sorry before,” There’s a heavy silence, one that expects you to say something. Or do something, but you can’t. There’s no energy left anywhere in your body, it’s a miracle that you’re still standing, “but this is just... I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” The words come out of your mouth, but you can’t feel your mouth move. You can’t feel anything other than Maddie’s sad eyes.

“No, it’s not. Come sit down.” She pats her white comforter, your legs carry you there, “Have you told anyone?” 

“No.” The word tastes sour on your tongue.

“Do you want to tell me about him?” Her hand is in between your shoulder blades, offering a comfortable weight. You think of how hard it’s been to keep this all from Maddie, of how many times you considered spilling everything. 

“Yes.” Your entire body relaxes with a sigh, Maddie smiles at the feeling.

“Tell me everything.” 

You tell her about his smile that outshines every star in the sky, about his beautifully sun kissed skin. You tell her about the way he pushes Johnny’s shoulder whenever the taller boy made a bad joke, and the time that you two paddled past the waves and he splashed water at you. She giggles, then asks to see a picture. You immediately know the perfect one.

(”(y/n,) pose with me!” Yuta cheered, voice growing closer. You turned, board still in hand, to be greeted with the sight of Yuta running at you while holding your phone.

“Wait, I’m not ready!” Before you could protest anymore there was a wet kiss on your cheek and the clicking sound of your camera ”You’re too much.”

“Yea, but you love me anyways.” He had pecked your lips, then the tip of your nose, then your forehead. It made something happy bubble in your stomach.

“I do, I love you so much.”)

“We had just finished surfing, that’s why we look like... That.” Your phone glares at you, flaunting yours and Yuta’s tanned skin. There’s two pictures where he’s not kissing you, just staring with lovesick eyes. It makes your heartbeat stutter.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n.)” 

“Yea,” you sigh, “me too.”

*

It’s not exactly clear how your bike ride turned into you sitting in front of ‘Yuta and Johnny’s Surf Shack.’ It’s not like you were trying to come here, you just wanted to see the island one last time before leaving tomorrow, that’s all. But you ended up here, with a heaving chest and a dry mouth. 

Something carries you off your blue bike, then parks it against Mr. Kahale’s pineapple stand, then makes you walk through the front door. The smell of bananas and fresh wood hits you like a memory, taking you to a time where everything is normal. Briefly, you catch a glimpse of life without Warner or your parents; Yuta perched on the counter and exchanging embarrassing anecdotes with Maddie, who’s working the register. She laughs, then casts her eyes to where you and Johnny are selling a customer on surf gear, and everything is perfect.

“(y/n?)” Johnny asks from his spot behind the counter, “What are you doing here?” His eyes are kind, soft even. You want to thank him for not kicking you out. 

“I um... I don’t know? I-I just,” A sigh escapes your lips, ringing out loudly in the empty store, “is Yuta here?”

“No, it’s Wednesday so...” It feels like he snapped a rubber band against your forehead, “He misses you, you know?” 

“Really?” You think it’s pathetic how small your voice sounds.

“Yea, like... A lot, he’s always holding that necklace that you left behind that one time. And looking at pictures, and watching rom-coms, then getting sad and eating all of the fudge pops in the fridge. I’ve had to buy about three new boxes in the last week.” He laughs quietly, in a squeezy and forced kind of way.

“Oh.” You want to cry. You want to cry, and scream, and throw things. But there’s nothing left in you except for the heavy silence permeating the room, and the act of accepting sad glances. 

“I’m sorry.” You’ve heard the words so many times that they don’t sound real anymore, “I know that you leave tomorrow, so um... Is there anything that you want me to say to him?”  

“Um... I guess just that,” You want to say: I only have a heart so that I can love you, echoing his words from your first kiss, “never mind. Don’t tell him anything, I don’t want to make this any harder.” He wants to tell you that he’s never seen someone love another person more than Yuta loves you, but he doesn’t want to make this any harder. 

“(y/n,) I’m-”

“Really sorry?” He cheeks go pink at your correct assumption, and he nods, “It’s okay, just let me rent a board for the day?” 

“Alright, but don’t expect for me to let you pay.” He tosses a pen at your face, eliciting a giggle from your mouth. It’s the first time that you’ve laughed all week.

“C’mon, I haven’t paid for a single thing here!” 

“And you never will!” He’s about to add, Yuta would kick me out if I made you pay.

“Alright, alright. Let me go get the board.”

When you finally get to surfing, the waves are relentless. A small part of you wants to climb off the board and let them whip you around until you feel something again. The other part of you rides any wave that you can catch, and it feels so damn good to have something listening to you again. So good to do something just because you want to.

There’s salt water mixing with tears and sweat, and sun setting on your skin. You think about how perfectly Yutas lips fit with yours, then about how soft his bleached hair felt between your fingers. 

*

“Maddie, why are you making us go this way?” It’s been thirty minutes of Maddie instructing your cab driver to turn down various back roads that don’t even lead to the airport, “Seriously, your flight is forty minutes before mine! You’re gonna be late.” She tries to wave the words away, then grips onto the front seat.

“Yea and then take this right. Yes, the one down that dirt road, thank you!” Now this is just getting ridiculous! You’re about to say something before she’s plopping back into the seat with wild eyes, “I’m not leaving.”

“What?!” Your scream startles the driver, causing him to slam on the breaks. Which may or may not slam your face into the headrest of the passenger's seat, “Sorry sir! Sorry!” He grumbles in response, you make a mental note to tip him extra.

“I’m not leaving! I talked it over with Johnny last night and then told my parents and put down the payment for an apartment! Then they cut off my card; sir?! It’ll be the next right, thank you!”

“Oh gosh, are you okay?” She grabs you by the shoulders, then squishes your cheeks lightly.

“Honestly? Not exactly, but at the same time I’ve never felt so free. I don’t owe them anything anymore, and like... Like, I scheduled an appointment to get my septum pierced just because my parents would never let me. I can do stuff like that now!” You want to ask how she can even afford it, then realize how awfully rude that is.

“I-I’m... I’m really happy for you.” Her eyes roll so far back in her head that you think she’s going to pass out.

“I’m asking you to come with me! And don’t argue with me on it, you know that you don’t want this! Marrying Warner, being a trophy wife? That’s not you, (y/n!)” She’s right, of course, but you don’t want her to be.

“Maddie, I can’t-”

“Why not?” The words are exasperated, almost angry, “Your parents are like, really mean to you. And it’s not like you owe this to them, if anything they owe this to you! They owe you one thing that’ll make you happy!” She’s pleading with you, forced tears taking home in her eyes. You just want everything to be done.

“But I don’t-”

“All of your favorite clothes are in your suitcase! You won’t need any cold clothes for a while, and you had a plan already anyways, right? With Yuta?” And there it is, the real reason that you can’t say yes. There’s the clenching of your heart, then your eyes falling to the dirty floor of the cab.

“I don’t know if Yuta still wants me. I mean, I really messed him up. Johnny said he’s watching rom-coms.” A shiver shoots up your spine at the thought of Yuta holding your necklace and staring with sad eyes. You don’t even think that you would take yourself back.

“Don’t. Be. Stupid.” She punctuates each word with a slap to the side of your head. You were going to complain, but then she’s spewing out more instructions to the cab driver and you can’t even remember how to breathe, “Of course Yuta still wants you! I saw those pictures, he looks at you like... Like...”

“Like it’s the only reason that he has eyes?” Her face lights up, now filled with hope instead of fake tears.

“Yes! We’re going to be at the airport in three minutes, so that you can either tell your parents that you’re leaving with me or make the biggest mistake of your life-”

“Maddie!” Her hands fly up defensively, and you’re not sure if you want to hug her or hit her.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” 

“It doesn’t mean that you should say it.” The words are mumbled, and you both know it’s so that you can avoid answering the question. She sighs heavily, then moves her hands to hold yours.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but please consider it? Pretty please, I don’t want you to live the rest of your life knowing what could have been!” She’s begging, the words slipping freely from her mouth as if they’re memorized. Meanwhile, you have the worst case of cottonmouth known to man.

“I-I...” There’s no air left as the cab skids to a halt in front of the airport, “I just don’t know, I’m sorry.”

You move out of the car, then to the trunk, then through the doors. Your parents are waiting by the small coffee shop, Warner sitting next to them and laughing. His head tilts backwards as the sound rings through the busy airport, and you realize how wrong all of this is.You shouldn’t be listening to loud, staged laughter! It should be Yuta’s soft giggles, the ones that you’ve never heard before this summer. The ones that dance through your dreams and paint everything bright pink.

And maybe it’s not just about Yuta. Maybe it’s also about having a life that you live just for you, and not for your parents. Or for Warner,or business partners, or anyone. A life for you, filled with things that you love. Maybe if you run you’ll make it outside before Maddie pulls away.

“Shit!” So it looks like piggybacking off of her taxi was no longer an option. But that’s fine, you can get your own. The airport is basically crawling with them, it shouldn’t be too hard to get one, “Taxi!” A yellow cab pulls up in front of you, the driver looking terribly annoyed.

“We’re not in New York, you know? Hop in.”

“Yes sir, so sorry, thank you, thank you!” The top half of your body is arranging your luggage in the seat, while your mother stares at the bottom half.

“(y/n?)” She asks, voice hushed yet stern, “What in the world are you doing?”

“Oh, mom! I-I’m just...” About a million lies run through your head. ‘I left something at the house,’ or ‘This was my cab, just dropped something in the back!’ One’s about to slip past your lips, but you choke. Maybe it’s time to start telling the truth, “I’m not leaving with you.” You’re facing her now, trying to read her expression. It’s actually kind of hard, until her eyes shoot harshly into the back of her skull.

“Yes you are, now get out of the car!” She grabs your wrist, but you yank it back.

“No, I’m not leaving! I’m staying and moving in with Maddie, and not getting married. At least not now, or to Warner! I don’t like him, and you don’t even care!” There’s pressure building in your rib cage, it feels like it’s about to crash and drown everything else out. Her mouth opens to speak, but just the thought of her voice makes you want to scream, “Don’t speak! Don’t say anything, there’s nothing you could say to mess me up anymore than you already have, so just stop!” You’re yelling. So loudly that it almost hurts.

“No, you stop! You owe this to your father, how can you be so selfish?” It doesn’t register that she actually said that. That anyone would actually say that.

“I owe him?!” She’s gripping your wrist again, trying to drag your body out of the cab and to where the man in question waits by the entrance. 

“Yes! He’s provided you with a home, food, and private schooling for eighteen years! This is the least you can do to pay him back!” The pressure in your ribs finally crashes, and you see nothing but hot red.

“I owe him nothing! All the things you just named are basic things I need to survive. I owe him for not letting me starve?! That is ridiculous! If anything he owes me for all of the summers I wasted at dinner parties, or the months where I begged him to teach me how to ride a bike, or the spring break where I came home and said that the boys at school were bullying me and he was too busy on the phone to even hear me! Or for, I don’t know, not raising me?” There are tears welling in her eyes. You notice for the first time in a while that they’re the same as yours.

“Stop. Get out of the cab, you’re coming with us.” 

“Give me one good reason why I should.” She stammers for a solid minute before you grab the cab door, ready to slam it in her face and drive far far away, “That’s what I thought, goodbye mom. Call me if you want.” 

*

It takes four days of settling into the apartment before you can bring yourself to go see Yuta. Maddie and Johnny had harassed you for the last two, claiming that the boys moping was just getting harder to deal with. 

(”Seriously (y/n,) please tell him that you’re here! I can’t take another rom-com!” Johnny had whined while dumping coffee grounds into your french press. Well, his old french press that he gave to you as a housewarming gift.

“I’m going to! I just need more time, that’s all.” You’re not lying, there’s still a lot to process. Your parents cut off your credit card basically as soon as their flight landed, which meant that your net worth was about fifty dollars. It was an adjustment to say the least. 

“We get it, take your time!” Maddie interjected, taking a soft hand to your tensed shoulder while the other played with her new septum ring, “But maybe tell him before Friday?” You’re eyes widen while Johnny laughs into his mug, and you think about slapping Maddies hand away. You don’t, obviously, but you definitely think about it.

“How does giving me a time frame go along with waiting until I’m ready?!” You’re definitely whining, but it barely even matters. At least Johnny is laughing.

“I’m sorry! But if you wait forever then you’ll never do it, I know you!” You’re about to say that she’s right, but then her mouth opens again, “And he keeps asking if we can have dinner together...” 

“I have to rush my reunion for your dinner party?” There was a meek ‘yes,’ then you rolling your eyes, “I love you. And hate you, but love you.” She smiled brightly and wrapped her arms around your shoulders.

“I love you too!” She pressed a kiss to your temple, Johnny may or may not have made a joke about being jealous. You remember thinking to yourself that there was only one thing in the world that would make this perfect.)

From where you stand now, it doesn’t look like Yuta’s moping at all. He’s surfing with a wide grin and whooping excitedly, you always thought it was so cute how he does that. It’s like he’s an endearing little kid, the kind that you want to give dessert to.

He finishes the wave off triumphantly, then pulls in with the tide. He looks calm. Calm and happy, until his eyes settle on you. At first he thinks you’re just any other tourist, but then your arms are waving as you wade into the cold water.

“(y/n?)” He shouts, eyebrows furrowing harshly, “What are you doing?” The whole ‘following Yuta into the ocean’ thing wasn’t exactly part of your plan, you didn’t even bring a swimsuit.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working in the store?” You respond as the water starts to soak the hem of your shorts. Yuta’s not sure if he should smile or cry, but either way he’s paddling towards you. He’s paddling towards you and you’re here.

“Aren’t you supposed to be gone?” His voice sounds strained, and you can’t wait until he’s close enough for you to explain everything, but in the meantime your mouth hangs open as he jumps off his board “Why are you still here?” 

“I left them! My family, a-and fiance, I left them, I live here now! I live here, with Maddie we have an apartment and I left! Forever, I’m free a-and here!” Words are spilling out of your mouth like you can’t help it, and in a way you can’t “I’m here and yours, I’m here and mine!” 

“S-so you’re not engaged anymore?” Everything feels frantic, like you have to say the right things as quickly as possible, which is ironic seeing as how before getting here you were sure that you wouldn’t even be able to speak to him. But it’s not like that. It’s more like you can’t breathe and the only thing that will give you air again is explaining all of this to the beautiful boy in front of you.

“No! I mean yes! I mean- shit! I mean that I don’t have a fiance anymore!” He’s smiling hopefully, something warm and beautiful blossoming your bodies. 

“And you live here? Like, permanently?” You nod your head so fast that something sloshes between your ears. 

“Yes! I live about fifteen minutes from the shack and ten minutes from you, not that I just know where your house is! You never told me that, so why would I know that?! Not like Johnny’s been at my apartment everyday for the past four days-” Then his lips are on yours, and they’re just as you remembered. Soft, hungry, and drenched in honey. He bites your lip softly, eliciting a quiet moan as your fingers tangle in the boy's hair. It’s a little bit shorter than last time, but you still like it nonetheless. You like everything about him, he could’ve grown an eleventh toe since your last meeting and you’d still like him.

“Why did you wait so long?” He grumbles before pressing a kiss to your jaw. You’re not exactly sure how you’re supposed to answer while he’s doing that, but it’s probably worth a shot.

“I-I was scared.” His face shoots up to look you in the eyes, wearing furrowed brows and quirked lips. All you can think of is kissing him again.

“Why were you scared?” The words make your cheeks flush terribly pink.

“Because! I thought that I like... Broke your heart! I thought you’d never want to see me again!” He pushes the side of your face softly, then presses kisses all over your skin. You think that you’ve drowned and gone to heaven.

“Of course I was heartbroken, because I missed you! All I could think of was how badly I wanted you back, sitting on the counter at the store. I never hated you!” He smiles widely, and you realize that it’s the same one from the first day in the surf shack. It’s warm, and inviting, and it heals something inside of you. Not everything, but definitely something, and you think that you want to kiss it off his face. So you do.

He wants to kiss you back like it’s what he needs to survive. So he does.

*

It’s a Wednesday, which usually means surfing with Yuta until you’re both sore everywhere. They’re your favorite days, but this one is painted a little differently. You’re standing on the shore with Johnny and Yuta while Maddie fumbles over waves. She’s fallen off three times (which is about where you would’ve drawn the line and come to shore,) but she’s determined. Before going out she said, ‘I am not coming in until I ride a wave. Guys, guys stop laughing!’ and she’s really sticking to it. It’s been almost  an hour, you want her to catch one just so that you can go out.

“You’ve got this Maddie!” There’s almost a zero percent chance that she can hear you, but you feel guilty for not being able to help her back up after the fourth fall, “She’s going to have so many bruises.” Johnny suppresses a laugh, because even if the sweet girl can’t hear your cheering she will be able to pick up on Johnny teasing her. It’s like a radar. 

“Says you! Remember that giant one on your butt that poked through your shorts?” You instinctively rub the spot where it was, cringing at the memory of not being able to sit anywhere for a week. You want to scold Johnny for bringing it up, but then Yuta pinches the skin on your hip and your brain stops working. 

“I remember that bruise,” He mumbles into your hair, pressing a kiss quickly onto your scalp before reverting his eyes to Maddie, “made everything so damn difficult!” Johnny gags as you slap your boyfriend, who’s giggling in the chaos that he created. He tends to do that.

“Stop. Being. Gross.” You punctuate each word with a flick to his temple. He giggles and grabs your wrist, pressing a gentle kiss onto the skin of your palm. Then he flicks you back, to which you screech loudly, “Yuta! Stop it, oh my gosh!” 

“What? Am I too gross? Personally I think-”

“Guys, look!” Johnny’s voice pulls you back to reality, but it’s okay. Reality has warm sand, and crystal blue waters, and your best friend in the world successfully riding her first wave. Before you can even process it Johnny is cheering like he’s her number one fan (he is. You know that he is,) “That’s my baby! That’s my freaking baby!”

“Go Maddie!” Even from far away, you can tell that she’s smiling. You’re smiling, Yuta is smiling, Johnny is more than smiling. Johnny is grinning like it’s going to split his face in half. Everyone cheers as she breaks the wave left, Yuta doing nothing more than letting out an incoherent whoops as Johnny runs out into the water. You briefly think that they’re doing what you and Yuta did after-

“Isn’t that exactly what we did after your first wave?” A laugh bubbles out of your throat while you wrap an arm around his dainty waist. His skin feels warm under your hand, you think that you want to live in that feeling for forever.

 “I was just thinking that! And yes, yes it is.” Your words bring up a flood of memories; kissing underneath a setting sun, ‘I love you’s whispered into hot skin, and this beautiful feeling in your chest. A feeling that feels like everything is becoming right. You sink your head onto the boys shoulder, eyes trained on the crashing waves, “That was a good day.”

“The best one yet.” He turns so that you’re facing each other, and you know it’s because he’s going to kiss you. He always does this, then smiles with one side of his mouth, then pulls you in by the waist, then kisses you like he means it. It’s your routine, but one that you don’t think you’ll ever be tired of. 

His hands skirt across your jaw, then yours in his hair. He’s never gotten used to how that feels, and you’ve never gotten used to the way he turns into putty under your hands. Maybe there are some things about Yuta that you’re not supposed to get used to, like the way that he giggles like a school girl whenever something is funny. His hand pushes your hair back, then cradles your neck and pulls you impossibly closer. It feels like everything is perfect.

“Come on nasties! We’re surfing!” Maddie splashes water at the two of you, pretending like she and Johnny weren’t doing the exact same thing less than two minutes ago. You were wrong before, now everything is perfect.

“Alright, alright, Yuta will you pass me my board?” He smirks while turning to pass the purple surfboard.

“The one that you chose because it matches my hair?” Maddie snorts at your boyfriend's quip as your cheeks go bright pink.  

“Johnny, you promised not to tell!” You screech while chasing the tall boy into oncoming waves. Your respective partners tail behind, giggles slipping past their shouts of protest.

You think that nothing in the world could be more perfect than this, and you’re right.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #380

“so tear me open, but beware: there’s things inside without a care”

What do you want more than anything else? Good health, on both fronts. Have you ever tried coconut water? No, but I've heard it's gross. Who was your first love? My first "real" boyfriend, Jason. Have you ever been to a convention? (comic, YouTube, etc.) I've been to a reptile convention. Have you ever done a first aid course? No. What internet browser do you use? Well, I typically use Google Chrome, but because it hasn't been loading webpages for me, I've been using Microsoft Edge lately. Are you addicted to any energy drinks? No; I don't like energy drinks. How often do you see your mother? Every day, because I live with her. Do you like croutons in your salad? No. Are you the one who vacuums your house? Mom and I both do it. When was the last time your living room furniture was rearranged? It hasn't been rearranged in this house, but arranged when we moved in. What company do you get your internet through? Suddenlink. When you were little, did you like watching Cartoon Network, Disney, or Nickelodeon more? Disney tops 'em. I didn't watch very much Cartoon Network. If you have siblings, when was the last time you saw them? I see Nicole usually every Wednesday because she eats dinner with us. I haven't seen Ash in a little while. Misty and Katie both visited the house pretty recently, and I haven't seen Bobby for a few years. I really miss him and his son. How many cars does your household own? One. What’s your favourite meat? Chicken or pork. What’s the best amusement park you’ve ever visited? Disney World. How old were you when you got your first car? I've never had my own car. What colour is your shampoo? White. Are you listening to music right now? If so, what’s the theme of the lyrics? "Pet" by A Perfect Circle. Manipulation of a child would be my guess. What was the last thing you had to eat? I had cookies 'n cream yogurt. Are you picky about brand name for anything? Probably for some things, but nothing's coming to me right now. Do elevators freak you out? Yes. The idea of getting stuck freaks me out. Are you still in touch with your best friend from high school? No. Have you ever visited any celebrity gravesites? No. How do you feel about archaeology? I think it's very fascinating. How do you find new music to listen to when you want it? YouTube recommendations, usually. What is your favorite thing to do on The Sims? I only played the animals one, in which case I loved breeding them to see the babies, haha. Do you have any tattoos? Ye boiiiii If yes, is there any meaning behind them? All of them. If no, do you want any? What would you like? N/A Have you dyed your hair more than once (and different colors)? Oh yeah. Which hair color you’ve had has been your favorite? Red. Your favorite place to be aside from your home? Sara's house, haha. If you were stupid-rich, would you ever actually want a mansion? Nah, I don't need that much space. And I'm not really into hiring a maid or something to clean the place. Did you ever sit alone at lunch in school? Yes. I was usually too shy to "force" (as I saw it) my way into other's space, so I really only sat down with friends or acquaintances if I was asked. What is your least favorite beverage? Probably cranberry juice. Do you shave up past your knees (if you shave your legs)? If I shave, yes. Any old home remedies you use when you’re sick? Just sipping ginger ale. Do you like fruits or vegetables more? Fruit, definitely. Who was your last text message from? Sara. What was your first job? Sales associate at GameStop. Do you live near any volcanoes? Nope. Where does your best friend live? Illinois. How many people have you truly fallen IN love with? Two. Has anybody ever called you a tease? Yes, but only by my then-boyfriend, and he only meant it playfully. What about kinky? No. What’s your favorite bird? Probably barn owls. Have you ever been high? No. Who did you last confide in? My mom. How many keys are on your keychain? One. Where was your mom born? New York. Do you know how to tap dance? I took many years of clogging classes, which is very, very similar; the shoes are just a bit different to create a unique sound. Have you ever seen your siblings naked? My little sister and I used to bathe and take showers together as little kids, plus she is literally shameless and has walked into the living room looking for a towel after a shower on many occasions, haha. I actually don't think I've seen my older sister naked. When eating string cheese, do you dive right in or just peel it? I don't like string cheese. Do you have your own personal water jug? If so, where did you buy it? No. Well, Mom bought me one, but... we did NOT realize it was HUGE. We returned it, so now I don't have one. How do you get rid of your hiccups? Just wait it out and suffer. I've tried every trick in the book, and none work for me. Do you know how to take screen shots on your computer? Yes. When you sneeze, do you sneeze into your hand or the inside of your elbow? Into the crook of my elbow. What’s your ultimate favorite bagel? I really just enjoy a plain 'ole bagel with cream cheese. When you have chocolate, do you eat it room temperature? Or are you like me and stick the bar into the fridge first? I like it at room temperature. Are there any constellations you recognize just by looking at them? Well, I know either the Little or Big Dipper when I see 'em, but idk which is which. I just know one's upside-down. Which insect do you find the most beautiful? Butterflies. Moths can be gorgeous, too. What was the last thing you got very excited about? Someone is FINALLY adopting the dog this weekend. Mom and I have lost every ounce of patience with her. The family that wants her though came to visit, and they all adore her. Which Disney villain is your favorite? Probably Scar. I think he was pretty sly, plus he had a bangin' song, lol. Have you ever had a bedroom with a specific theme? Not really. Just filled with stuff I like. If you had to design a room with a theme, what theme would you choose? I would love to make a like, woodsy sort of room, if that makes any sense. Maybe like pine green walls with wooden accents and realistic decor. It'd be SUPER cool if I could build like one of those catwalk things along the walls that look like branches for my cat to maneuver along. Have you ever given money to a homeless person? No, I'm too distrustful. Have you ever designed your own Facebook timeline cover? Yeah. What is one site that closed down that you wish would come back? I used to really enjoy Dragons of Atlantis on Kabam! or whatever it was called. It transferred to a phone app that I have, but it's just not as fun. The dragons were super cool, and the artwork in general was just dope. If you have a partner, have you ever had to sleep in separate beds? If you don’t, how would you feel if a future partner wanted separate beds? I sometimes worry my future partner and I will have to have separate beds because of my nightmares/terrors that frequently cause me to lash out and basically attack the air. Sleeping separately would feel weird to me, but I'd far rather not hurt my partner. Hopefully, getting a CPAP mask really will help me. Though I don't imagine cuddling with one is comfortable. ;-; Or does having a partner even matter to you? I mean I want a partner someday, so I wouldn't say it "doesn't matter" to me, but it's not something I'm currently pitching a fit over not having one. How many languages can you count to a hundred in? Two. What is something you are skeptical about? The government lmao. What is something you find absolutely unethical? The meat industry, honestly. You look into it and it's just... disgusting, what they do to animals. I wish I could go without meat, I really do. What is something unethical you would not mind doing? Uhhhh? Is there a murder case you find absolutely fascinating? Okay so have you ever heard about or seen that video of a woman acting all strange inside an elevator at some hotel? Well, she disappeared after leaving that elevator, and some time later, residents complained about the water quality. They found her fucking body in one of the water tanks (I think that's what they're called?), and no one could explain how someone could have 1.) gotten up there and 2.) gotten the tank open to put her corpse inside. It's fuckin weird and creepy. What is an unusual item somebody you know owns? No idea. What’s the oldest TV-show you like? When was it made? Uhhh I don't know which is older, but I love I Love Lucy and The Munsters. Have you ever won a trophy for something? If so, what was it for? Yeah, sports and academic stuff. Have you ever been interviewed to a newspaper? If so, what was it about? No. Do you have a mug with your name/initials on it? No. Have you ever designed your own mug? No. Have you ever gone mud riding? No, that is not my definition of fun. I don't like being dirty. Have you met somebody that you want to spend the rest of your life with? Yes. Who was the last male you talked to? Does he have facial hair? My psychiatrist, and he does. Have you ever dressed up as a Disney character? Which one? Not to my recollection. Have you ever played chess? If so, are you good at it? No. If I wanted to buy you a chocolate bar, what kind should I NOT get? Don't get anything with coconut.

[artificialqueens]

The Goode Case, 13/14 (Jaida/Jan) - Juno

Chapter summary: With the Goode Case finally closing, all that is left is for Jaida to do is survive the interview into what happened, and find out if Jan ever wants to see her again.

(A/N: So we’re nearly at the end now! Thank you all so much for all your support. Here is part thirteen. I hope you enjoy!)

Wednesday 1stNovember

5.54PM

They’d spent most of the day in separate interviews, needing to keep away from each other as was custom, to confirm their stories were all straight. Jaida had had to keep away from Brita and Jackie while they went between interviews, around the building; even taking separate lunches – Jaida going at twelve. Jaida had missed her teammates more than she could put into words. It had surprised her, really, how much closer she’d grown to Jackie and Brita in the last four days, but spending the day without them felt like losing a leg.  

The only person she’d spotted in passing was Crystal, as she’d walked past the window of the café she’d gone to for lunch. Crystal hadn’t seen Jaida, but Jaida knew she was only in the area for the interview; and thinking about it, Crystal probably had the most information to give out of the eight of them who were there yesterday.

Between the eight of them that had been there – three detectives, four members of public, and of course the victim’s statement from hospital – it sounded like the volume of stories would corroborate with each other. No matter how far fetched the story itself sounded.

At four thirty, interview process was done.

Jaida had entered their usual meeting room, finding Brita and Jackie had arrived before her, and were sat side by side, their arms linked, Jackie resting her head on Brita’s right shoulder; but neither of them looked at each other, or Jaida as she came in, both of them staring glassy-eyed at the opposite wall.

Jaida had simply understood. She’d crossed the room, and sat in the empty chair on Brita’s left, linking her arm through Brita’s. Brita squeezed Jaida’s arm to her side, and the three of them stayed still, silent for a long time, content to just be in each others’ company.

It was Brita who had come out the worst out of the three of them. She looked utterly exhausted, bags forming under her eyes, her skin still pallid, her hair covered by the hood of her favourite grey hoodie. She was far less exuberant than usual, her brown eyes dull, and when she spoke, her voice croaked as though she were recovering from a cold.

“Pizza?”

“Mantione’s?” Jaida had said hopefully.

“Yeah,” Jackie had replied.

Jackie had still parted her fringe to the left, although the bruise on her forehead from Sunday was starting to turn yellow and fade away. She looked pale, and was wearing an extra hoodie, shivering with cold as they stepped outside into the November evening.

The cold air seeming to rejuvenate them all, Jaida found herself overcome with emotion all of a sudden, and pulled Brita and Jackie into a hug; they both paused, dazed, before reciprocating, and the three of them stood in a hug for what seemed like hours.

“Huh,” Brita said eventually, when they broke apart. “What a day.”

At Mantione’s, Jan was on shift, but mentioned she was due to stop at six when Brita asked. She seemed nonplussed at their appearance in the diner, and didn’t seem to want to stay with them for very long, although the diner was quiet.

Instead she went to sit with Crystal and Aiden, who had appeared in the diner about ten minutes after they did, and was still there, deep in conversation with Crystal, nodding earnestly every now and then.

Jaida felt a pang, thinking that Jan might not even want to know her any more. And could she blame her?

It was Jan’s brother Paul who actually brought them their pizzas, giving Brita a rub on her arm as he put them down, concern written all over his face. How much did he know? What had Jan told him? But they didn’t have time to think much on it, as the smell of pizza seemed to bring them back to life. Jaida hadn’t felt able to eat much at lunch, and her stomach growled.

Two or three slices later, the three of them begun to speak a little more freely again.

“Did the hospital report back on Gigi?” Jackie asked.

Brita nodded. “The good news is she was totally fine, apart from being a bit dehydrated. They’re pumping her with fluids and stuff, and she’s getting released tomorrow, all being well.”

“That’s great news,” Jaida said, looking over at Crystal. “I bet she’ll be happy to get her girlfriend back.”

“Since there is no one to press charges against – no one alive, anyway – the Goode Case is officially closing. Thank God,” Brita added with a groan.

“So …” Jaida asked, putting a hand on Brita’s forearm, “what do you remember?”

Brita laughed bitterly. “Like, almost nothing. When I went to the house on Monday, on my own, I told myself I’d left my torch. But as soon as I stepped inside, I knew I’d made a mistake. Michelle just kind of …” Brita clamped both her hands on either side of her head and squeezed, unable to explain in any other way. “I felt like I was in a … a really deep sleep, most of the rest of Monday and all Tuesday. I remember a few bits, but they feel like dreams.”

“I bet the interviewer loved that,” Jackie muttered.

“I was fine after Michelle left me, it’s all crystal clear memories after that. But … I’m really nervous to do anything else like this now. Seriously. All this projection stuff has made me freaked out.”

“I meant to give you this on Monday, speaking of that,” Jaida reached into her bag and took out the book that Dahlia had given her.

Brita turned it over. “Astral Projection For Beginners: A Complete Guide.” Brita laughed nervously. “Thanks. You still owe me a Christmas present though.”

There was a loud gasp from one of the booths on the other side of the diner. Brita turned to crane her neck, before turning back to Jaida and Jackie with a sigh.

“Seriously, though, why are they both avoiding us tonight?” Brita asked.

Jackie and Jaida turned around to the booth twenty feet away on the other side of the diner. Jan was still sitting with Crystal and Aiden, nodding emphatically, listening to whatever it was they were saying.

“Have you spoken to either of them?” Jackie asked.

Brita nodded. “I messaged Aiden. She said that Crystal was talking to Jan last night, which was great as I was too. I think she’s gonna be fine. It was just a shitty experience for her. I really owe her big time for what Michelle did to her. Dragging her to a plane with a fire in it! That’s Jan’s biggest fear.”

“It is?” Jaida put a hand to her mouth.

“Yeah. Jan says she just remembers fainting, and then coming round with Dahlia putting those smelly things under her nose. Not a great Tuesday evening.”

Jaida watched as Jan stood up, still out of earshot, and walked out from the booth with Crystal and Aiden, making her way back behind the bar and disappearing into the back area.

“She’s as into you as you’re into her.” Brita grinned.

“What you talking about?” Jaida tried to feign nonchalance.

“Sis, Jan swore to me that she wouldn’t do any dating until she’d landed a part, and she said you’re taking her out this Friday.”

“Wait, what? Why would she break that for me?”

Brita gave her a cynical smile. “Come on Jaida, have you seen yourself in a mirror?”

“Girl I know, I’m hot, I make all the ladies go wild,” Jaida joked, pushing her braids back over her shoulders, “but that don’t mean all the ladies want to actually date me.”

“Well, Jan’s sole focus is her career,” Brita said. “All the wants is to perform. When we were kids, that was all she wanted to do all the time. She’d put on musical numbers to all her Barbies. And me. I was an honorary Barbie.”

“Honorary Barbie!” Jackie shrieked with laughter.

“Shut up, Jackie! But – the point is that Jan doesn’t break her focus for anything. Including girls, normally. This is a big deal for her.”

Jaida tilted her head cynically. “Is it the uniform as well?”

Brita paused. “Maybe a little bit.”

“I knew it! It always is!”

Jan emerged, her hair freed from the bun she wore it in for shift, and her apron and shirt discarded, replaced by a purple hoodie. She pottered around behind the bar, grabbing herself a bottle of coke.

“So – what’s the next step?” Brita asked.

Jaida finished her bite and stood up. “Probably this.” She strode to the bar, as Jackie and Brita looked confusedly after her.

Jan tensed a little when she saw Jaida approaching the bar.

“Oh, Jaida,” she said, a small forced smile gracing her face, but her eyes were wary.

“Hey, Jan,” Jaida replied. “Can I get a Pinot, and whatever the beautiful lady behind the bar wants?”

“Sure.” Jan stopped at the fridge and looked up. “Wait. Are you buying me a drink?”

“Yeah,” Jaida shifted from one foot to the other. “Your shift ends now, right?”

Jan poured herself a Pinot as well, and within a few minutes they were in a booth of their own. The diner was still quiet, a few people starting to bustle in, but they were mostly hidden, although Jan’s eyes kept darting amusedly around the diner.

“I think we’re being watched,” Jan murmured, a glint in her eye.

“I know, Brita looks far too happy with herself right now.” Jaida looked over at Brita and Jackie, Brita giving them a thumbs up while Jackie put her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“Well, not just Brita,” Jan said, pointing to Crystal and Aiden, on the other side of the diner, who both turned from staring at them to looking down at their food in feigned innocence.

“Have you spoken to Brita since – since yesterday afternoon at all?” Jaida said quietly.

Jan sighed. “Yeah, we had a long call late last night, so I know she was, like, possessed or something when she brought me to the house. It sounded really strange at first, but then Crystal was calling me with the same news, so I said I’d meet them today. Crystal told me about what happened.”

“And you’re fine with her explanation? You believe us?”

“I think …” Jan paused. “I think I’ll just need a bit of time to process it. I mean, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find it weird, but I’ve known Brita since we were kids,” Jan shrugged. “She wouldn’t lie about something like that. I know that whoever it was who brought me to that place wasn’t Brita. Brita would never – well, she knows how scared I am of fire.”

“It wasn’t Brita,” Jaida shook her head fervently. “She’d never hurt you. She’s really beating herself up about the whole thing.”

Jan looked suddenly curious. “Do you guys always do paranormal stuff together? Like, Scooby Doo and Mystery Inc or something?”

Jaida choked on her wine. “How much did Crystal tell you exactly?”

“Well, I know Crystal sees ghosts and stuff – she tells practically anyone, you know – and she said you did the same thing! And that you – you had to leave your body and go between astral planes or something to get me!”

“Something like that,” Jaida shifted in her chair. “Yeah, I guess. But we all helped. Crystal probably helped most of all. Are Crystal and Aiden both alright after yesterday?” Jaida asked tentatively.

“Crystal’s over the freaking moon to have Gigi back, she’s so happy you wouldn’t believe. But … Jesus, she’s so sweet – she literally rang me from hospital last night to check up on me. Said she was pretty much the only person in the building not to have something spooky happen to them, so she felt it was her duty or something.”

Jan shook her head, smiling into her glass. “She does too much. Like – she always says if she was in an action movie, she’d be the one with the sword running screaming into the middle of a battlefield.”

“She needs some time for herself too,” Jaida replied.

“Aiden said Crystal kind of broke down at lunch, after their interviews. Because – because Crystal was trying to explain it all to Aiden; she remembers nothing! I think she had to take her home for a bit before they came out here.” Jan glanced at Crystal, who was deep in conversation and not looking at them any more. “She does too much.”

“Oh,” Jaida lowered her voice. “Don’t look now, but an interesting development is happening.”

Jackie was pulling Brita by the sleeve of her hoodie, along to the other side of the diner, and Jaida watched them say something to the students before climbing into the opposite seat to them.

“Oh, Jesus, finally.” Jan looked relieved. “Honestly, they’ve both been driving me nuts.” She motioned to her phone. “I’ve had to give Aiden one lot of advice and Brita another.”

“Wait, they’ve both been sending you messages about each other? Instead of just – sending them to each other?” Jaida held back a laugh.

“They’re useless. Both of them.” Jan shook her head, exasperated. “Brita’s thinking too much. She wants the freaking planets to align or something, and all the details to be completely perfect. I’ve already told her that I haven’t seen Aiden this cheerful since we all dressed goth and went to see Marilyn Manson for her birthday. Aiden won’t care about the minor details. But Aiden just won’t say out loud what she’s feeling, and I think that’s what Brita needs to hear from her.”

“They’re both worrying about nothing,” Jaida agreed.

“So – maybe this is a good sign. If they can both pull their heads out their asses.”

Jaida snorted with laughter. “Why are we talking about Brita and Aiden, anyway? They’ll work things out. I just –“ Jaida held her eyes, “I just want to sit with you for a while.”

But Jan’s grin started to fade from her face, and she averted her gaze.

“What?” Jaida asked.

“I’m …” Jan laughed, but all Jaida heard was nerves. “I’m nobody, really – I’m just working here in my parents’ restaurant, saving money, auditioning every spare minute, not really getting anywhere, but you – you’re the real deal! You got a job, and an apartment, and an exciting life! And ghosts and stuff!” Jan looked awed. “It’s fascinating. I never saw a ghost. My brother Charlie says he did once, but we just tease him about it.”

“Believe me, fascinating is putting it nicely,” Jaida murmured, suddenly worried at where this conversation was going.

“You’re –“ but Jan didn’t finish her sentence, looking back up at Jaida and laughing humourlessly, shaking her head. “Sorry. I’m being stupid.”

“You’re not!”

“To think that someone like you …” Jan paused, waving her hand to try to articulate, but giving up and sighing. “Never mind.”

“Jan,” Jaida took a breath. “I – and I’m being honest! – I really, really think you’re great, and …” Jaida’s tongue was tying, but she swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the dry feeling in her throat. “And if you’re happy, I really don’t want this to change anything for us. I’d still like us to go out, on Friday. But if you’re uncomfortable …” Jaida exhaled, trying to keep her nerves in check, “if you’re uncomfortable, because of everything that happened yesterday, I totally understand.”

Jaida took a deep breath, preparing for the inevitable let down.

Instead, Jan leant across the table in the booth and kissed her gently on the lips.

It took a second for Jaida to realise before she returned the pressure; Jan’s touch was so gentle that Jaida held her breath, hardly daring to believe this was happening. She lifted a hand to Jan’s jaw, threading her fingers into her hair …

Jan pulled away sharply when a whoop came from the other booth, and Jaida leaned over to see Crystal waving her fists in the air, a huge grin on her face, while Aiden hid her face in her hands in embarrassment at her friend.

“Oh, yeah,” Jan shrugged apologetically. “I think they’re excited about this as well.”

Thursday 2ndNovember

6.21PM

“Salut Nicky. Hi Heidi.” Jackie unlocked the door without looking up, and was so distracted as she entered the apartment with hanging up her coat and kicking off her shoes that she didn’t even realise Jaida was there too.

JACQUELINE!

“What?” Jackie cried, almost dropping her bag. Her eyes darted to the couch, where Jaida was sat.

“What are you doing here?” She frowned. “Not that I’m not happy to see you!”

“Getting fashion advice for my date with Jan tomorrow. I asked Heidi and she said that Nicky was the expert, so here I am!” Jaida motioned to the rest of the couch, which was empty. Jackie looked all around the room.

“Where are they then?”

“They went to Nicky’s room about …” Jaida checked her watch. “About twenty minutes ago, said they were just going in to get some clothes. I thought I’d leave them to it for a while.” She grinned knowingly at Jackie, who grinned knowingly back.

“If you’d told me you were coming over, I’d have put some food on for us all.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you!” Jaida cocked her head. “You should read my mind!”

“Don’t,” Jackie sighed. “I’m trying not to at the moment. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Do you know what it’s like, sitting in the office next to Brita, when she’s just trying to read messages from Aiden and then decipher in her head what they all mean? If I hear her thinking ‘but what does this mean, what does that mean’ much more I’m going to throw my laptop at her.”

“She’s gonna be mad when she finds out you’ve been hearing her thoughts!” Jaida teased.

“I think the idea has grown on her since last week,” Jackie shrugged. “Just … in moderation.”

Heidi’s raucous laughter came from Nicky’s room, followed by Nicky’s far more polite giggle, and then silence.

“I know when Nicky is at home now! I like Heidi a lot, she’s great – but then she got hold of my big French dictionary and started looking up rude words.” Jackie laughed. “Now all I need to do is listen out for Putain, Merde or anything else that comes out of her mouth.”

Jaida snorted with laughter. “Sounds like Heidi.”

“I’ve moved my Farsi dictionary to my room. I’m not taking any chances!”

Nicky’s door opened and Nicky and Heidi spilled out, carrying a small pile of clothes each, both looking a little flustered, Nicky’s blonde bob dishevelled.

“Here they are,” Jackie announced, cocking an eyebrow at them both.

“Your closet goes to Narnia, does it?” Jaida grinned.

“No, we were just Heidi, in the closet!” Heidi screeched with laugher, while Nicky, a little more restrained, giggled next to her. “Get it? ‘Cause I’m Heidi and I was just in a closet?”

“Comedy gold, sis.” Jaida was laughing along with them. “Have you got anything I can try out?”

“We found a few things you might like,” Nicky winked at her, laying her pile on the back of one of the chairs of the dining table. “But this one was our favourite!”

She held it up in front of Jaida, whose eyes widened. Between them, Heidi and Nicky had settled on a sparkly gold mini dress with capped sleeves, and a longer train at the back that almost reached the floor.

“Alright, let’s give it a try.”

Once Jaida changed into it, emerging from the bathroom in an exaggerated catwalk strut, Nicky clapped her hands gleefully while Heidi gave her a whistle.

Jackie, however, was frowning at it.

“I don’t know – I mean, you look stunning, Jai, but it doesn’t really scream first date, does it?” Jackie said, scratching the back of her neck. “It says a nice formal occasion. But you’re only going for coffee. I think it needs to tone down a bit.”

“Check with Brita, she knows Jan better than we do,” Heidi suggested, grabbing Jaida’s phone to take a picture.

Jaida:Brittany!!

Jaida:How about this for tomorrow evening? X

Brita:Girl you’re like SMOKING hot! Maybe not for coffee though xx

Jaida: What do you think Jan will wear?

Brita: Jan’s really chill. Denim jacket, skirt and sneakers

Brita:Maybe one of her Patriots shirts if she gets stuck x

Brita:She just sent me her outfit: denim mini and hi tops xx

“Yeah, I need something more casual,” Jaida said, reaching for the zip on the dress.

Friday 3rdNovember

6.12PM

It had been too confusing with all the conflicting opinions. Jaida had settled with black jeans and a deep red blouse, and threw a warm jacket over it. It was a little too cold to go without one. She’d managed to get away early, but then her bus was late, congestion and New York traffic making her twitch nervously and watch out the window.

By the time she got off the bus, it was ten past six. She hurried along the street, hoping she wasn’t too late. Hoping Jan was still there, or maybe Jan was late too.

But Jan was already there, looking in the opposite direction, hugging her lilac jacket around her, her blonde hair shifting effortlessly in the wind. 

No time like the present.

Jaida crossed the road and approached Jan from behind. She saw Jan catch sight of her reflection in the window, before mimicking nonchalance and letting Jaida approach.

“Boo!”

“Aah!” Jan turned in a half-hearted display of horror, before breaking into a warm smile. Her light brown eyes crinkled at the corners as she looked at Jaida up and down, drinking in her figure.

“You look incredible!” Jan grinned.

“So do you,” Jaida smiled back at her.

“You’re so lying. I’m in a Pats shirt!” Her laugh filled the air around them.

“You still look incredible.” Jaida tried to inject all the sincerity she felt into her voice. Jan was inadvertently making it very difficult to focus on anything else but her. The radiant smile, the perpetual changing movements in her face.

Jan directed Jaida into a corner in the coffee shop, on a couch that just became free as they walked in, and went to order for them. Jaida noticed how concealed they were, a small wall between the couch and the rest of the world, their own cocoon, almost entirely sheltered from people around her.

The sound of light jazz in the background and the people a few metres from them, intent on their own conversations, let Jan and Jaida submerge themselves into their own world. Jaida was starting to unwind, and Jan seemed to as well, leaning into the couch with her and resting her elbow on the back of it.

“I can only drink one now,” Jaida said, “and that’s it. Or I can’t sleep.”

Jan shrugged. “I don’t even like coffee!”

“What! What are you drinking then?”

“Hot chocolate!”

They both laughed at that. Jaida chanced a movement of her foot towards Jan’s sneakers under the table, determined to remain in control of the situation, while Jan responded by catching Jaida’s ankle between her own calves. Damnit.

“You’re a Sagittarius?”

“A sexy Sagittarius,” Jaida said with a wink. “You need to get it right.”

“I don’t think I’ve dated a sexy Sagittarius before.” Jan’s voice was becoming husky, Jaida was unsure if Jan realised it; but it was making Jaida’s skin tingle.

“What are you then?”

“Uh, a Gemini, but don’t hold that against me, we get such a bad rap.”

“What are Geminis like then?”

“Well,” Jan thought, “we’re very, uhm, there are many qualities, uhm -”

“You don’t know a damn thing about it!” Jaida cackled.

“I do! We’re quite diverse, we can seem like two different people, but we’re really, like, bubbly and energetic, sociable!” Jan nodded. “But there’s like, two different characters sometimes.”

“Like how?”

“Like, sometimes we like to be sociable with lots of people and lots of friends, and sometimes … sometimes we like a quiet time, with a hot chocolate, with maybe one gorgeous woman for company instead of a big crowd.”

“That’s Geminis, is it?” Jaida heard her voice starting to purr.

“It’s definitely some Geminis,” Jan chuckled.

“Do some Geminis also enjoy light jazz, detectives, and the occasional ghost?”

“Apparently so,” Jan murmured, that husky quality returning to her voice. “What about Sagittarians, then? Do they like pizza, getting drinks spilled on them, and the Patriots?”

Jaida tilted her head, placing a finger to her chin, pretending to ponder the question.

“Meh,” she said nonchalantly.

“Hey! Don’t call me ‘Meh’, Jaida!” Jan playfully batted at Jaida’s arm.

Neither of them could help laughing, Jan batting at Jaida again, when Jaida caught her hand this time and pulled Jan in a little closer, staying in place until they forgot to continue laughing, their faces edging nearer.

“Anything else Sagittarians like?” Jaida heard Jan breathe.

Jaida was close enough to see a scattering of freckles on Jan’s nose. Flecks of amber in her eyes.

She was getting close enough to losing herself now, and she realised that it was exactly what she wanted to do.

“I’m sure I can think of a few things,” Jaida purred, words getting harder to form, fighting to keep control. Jan was inches from her, eyelids fluttering a little, and Jaida raised a hand to stroke Jan’s jawline.

It was Jan who finally gave in, reaching forward to close the gap between their lips, her eyes falling closed. Jaida kissed her back, so slowly that it seemed to last half a lifetime, weaving her hand into Jan’s hair to make sure she was real, while her skin tingled and her mind relinquished all coherent thought, content to just lose herself in every sensation that was Jan.

[faunahudson]

The Hudsons Strike Back

Who: Sawyer & Fauna Hudson @sawyer-hudson (guest appearances by Molly Sheridan and Tommy Deluca)

When:  26th of November 2020

Where: Ohio

What: Fauna and Sawyer meet up with two blasts from Sawyers past, with explosive consequences

Warnings: Slut shaming, mild violence, threatening language, references to unsafe practices, homophobia and an almost slur

“I’ll admit you Americans do decorate for Fall better.” Fauna conceded as they passed shop window after shop window filled with Thanksgiving themed displays. “Obviously Ireland is superior in every other way. But I’ll give you this one thing.” She teased pressing herself a little tighter against Sawyers side. The bright smile on her face having been stuck there practically since they’d left their claim interview.

Sawyer supposed that, growing up with Thanksgiving, he'd never had been one to notice the decorations, but spent a good look at some of the display windows that Fauna had pointed out. He wrapped his coat-laden arm around her tiny waist, laughing slightly at her teasing words. They had barely stopped laughing since the moment their claim came through, and he couldn't see it stopping anytime soon. "We really love Thanksgiving over here," He told her, "but yeah, Ireland is definitely superior. I was amazed at seeing all of the Belfast Christmas decorations last year."

She felt so warm despite the wind, as he wrapped his arm around on her waist her body alight with her own delight at the world right now. “I like the american commitment to going as big as possible with everything, so you made up a holiday and now you're gonna like.. do it hard." Fauna agreed knowing it was about time that she gave her new homeland it’s dues. "So remind me.. what was your hang out around here when you were in high school? I need to contextualise all those fun pictures that your Mom showed me this morning."

Sawyer furrowed his brow at Fauna's subtle dig at Thanksgiving. "Made up a holiday?" He repeated, "Surely, all holidays are made up in some way or another. Is this the whole Irish Catholicism thing about it being something not centred around Jesus?" Sawyer knew that, the actual reality behind Thanksgiving was a lot more grim than sitting around with family to share thanks and eat turkey, but sadly, his patronism had to win out against this one. Her other question made him laugh, and roll his eyes. "I still cannot believe Mom showed you all those pictures. They're super embarassing." He shook his head. "Um, there's a Barnes and Noble I spent a lot of time in, over that way. There's also this record store -- Groamy's CD's and Tapes -- it's not in here, but we can head over later if we can be bothered?" Sawyer suggested, directing her towards the stores he and his friends hung out in their youth. "There's also this, like, froyo place. I spent a lot of time there with --" He trailed off, noticing someone not even three feet away from the couple, "-- Molly." That wasn't who he had actually spent time with at the frozen yogurt shop -- that was actually Leanne -- but Molly was the person in front of time, who had noticed Sawyer in the same awkward way he had noticed her, with neither of them pretending they hadn't just seen the other. Basically, Sawyer's worst nightmare.

“If the holiday doesn’t have deep roots in Celtic paganism then I’m afraid it doesn’t hold much appeal for me.” Fauna shrugged with a teasing little giggle. “If I don’t feel the mood includes having been able to celebrate it in the woods like witches then I’m afraid it simply doesn’t get me going.” She declared, patting his chest through his coat as she reached to adjust her hair a little. “I can’t wait for her to get out the second album, apparently you went through a phase of holding up books in photos and I definitely think you should go back through that phase so you can self identify as a nerd.” She giggled, nodding along with him describing the places they could visit. “I like froyo.” She started and then noticed him staring at  something, and with a little curl in the bottom of her stomach she noticed Molly. It was odd, seeing her in the flesh when she’d spent so long pouring over her instagram pictures. Without really thinking about it the brunette leaned in closer to Sawyer unsure if this was a motion of support for him or an act possessiveness. “Do you want to say hi?” She asked quietly.

He shook his head with a laugh. "I always knew you were a witch, this basically confirms it." He told her with a laugh, cringing at the memories he knew that photo album would brings. "I mean I can self-identify as a nerd without such a cringey practice, thank you." However, after he noticed Molly, he admittedly didn't hear what Fauna said at first, and it seemed like time had stopped around him, his heart beating erratically. He heard Fauna's question slightly too late, feeling her body lean in even closer to him. "Hmm, what?" He asked, it suddenly registering to him. "Uh, I don't know if it's best...." The Dominant trailed off when it was made apparent his decision had been made for him, as Molly closed the space between them. "Sawyer?" Molly asked, almost as if hoping it wasn't him, that it was Finn with a haircut, or some third dopplegänger wandering around the Lima, Ohio mall. "Hey, it's good to see you." She stepped towards him as if to give him a hug, faltering slightly, and settling for just making it seem like she shifted her weight instead. "Molly!" Sawyer said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Yeah, good to see you too." After a moment, he glanced down at Fauna. "Oh, so, Fauna, this is...Molly, my...er..." He felt rude to refer to her as her ex, but he also felt rude if he didn't acknowledge their relationship, so he took the coward's way out and said nothing at all, just trailed off. "And Molly, this is Fauna...my...claim."

Fauna tried not to let her face be pinched by the nerves and jealously that she was feeling. She knew it was a poisonous habit to compare yourself to other women, to survey Mollys outfit and wonder if she looked better than her. If she’d heard any girl she knew doing such a thing she would have given them a dressing down. So she painted on a soft smile, hoping that her malice played as nerves. Though she kept her body tight against Sawyers frame as she spoke. She waited to see if Molly really would go for the hug for a moment, and was relieved when she didn’t. Seeing the tension in Sawyers frame, and noting that his face seemed tight. He was uncomfortable, and so it was her job to make this more comfortable. To put him first even though she quite wanted to drag him down and kiss him until he wouldn’t remember Mollys name. “Pleased to meet you. And kinda weird to see you come to life.” She chattered offering Molly her own hand to shake. “I’ve seen you on Finns insta.” She explained in what was a partial lie.

A part of Sawyer was amazed that Fauna and Molly -- two very different parts of his life -- were speaking, and kinda jus stood there as Fauna offered out her hand to shake. Molly took it with a warm smile, always so infectiously nice to everyone she met. "Pleased to meet you too, that reminds me I need to hit up Finn, haven't caught up with him in a while. And, uh," She glanced between the two of them, "congratulations! On the...the claim." Sawyer's heart ached at the way she had stumbled over her words, not even bearing to imagine how it felt to see someone so happy an content. "Thank you," Sawyer said, biting his lip, not knowing what else to say. It was a lie, he knew what he wanted to say. He was saying to Fauna less than 2 months ago how he wanted closure with Molly for that night, for the way their relationship ended. But a busy mall the day before Thanksgiving wasn't the time or place to discuss his past, especially when he was with Fauna, his future. "Do you, still live here, in town?" He asked. "Yeah," Molly said, with a nod, seemingly suspicion. Sawyer nodded in response. "Good, we're here until Wednesday. If um, if you want to catch up sometime?" He suggested, heart racing, clutching round Fauna's waist as if his life depended on it. There were many ways it could go. She could say no, make up an excuse and that be that. She could say yes, and it'd be awful and open up old wounds that'd take longer to heal. Or...she could say yes, and it'd go surprisingly well. The risk of it all was in the asking, he supposed.

Fauna turned off the part of her brain that wanted to overanalyse every word that Molly was saying for now, hating how much she resented how sweet the other girl was being. “He’s knocking about town somewhere.” Fauna added as she shook the other girls hand. Glad that Sawyer was far too distracted to note the fake quality to the smile that she was giving. She was sure Molly wouldn’t know the difference, but Sawyer knew her too well usually for this shitty performance to pass.  “I’m sure he’d be pure thrilled to see you.” The brunette confirmed continuing her barrage of friendliness. “Cheers. It’s a fun time of year for it to happen. Whilst the yanks are giving thanks.” Fauna rhymed, wondering why she had suddenly become Doctor Suess. He invites her, and Fauna can feel how tense he is. Her little hand smoothing across his back in comfort. She wanted him to know that she supported him, that she understood why he needed to have this conversation. “Please take him off my hands.” She encouraged gently. “I’ve got Christmas shopping to do, and all these limbs can occasionally get in the way.” She added, taking the cheap shot at her boyfriend to let Molly know that it was okay to say yes, and that she would be far out of the way if this little meet up were to happen.

Sawyer relaxed at the way Fauna was soothing him, knowing his laugh at her silly, yet adorable rhyme, and the teasing about his height sounded way too fake and tight to his own ears, trying to calm himself from the panic, to not let the troubled inside bleed through onto the put-together outside. Half of him wanted Molly to say no, the other half yes, and the few seconds between him asking, and her answering was driving him mad. Molly had laughed at Fauna's joke, "Tell me about it, I was always scared about him accidentally catching himself on a railing and knocking a display over. Or bumping his head on one of those ceiling beams." She agreed, and Sawyer found it nice they were bonding over...something. Even if it was his tallness. She turned back to Sawyer. "Yeah, I'd be up for...grabbing a coffee or something? Maybe Friday?" She suggested, before turning back to Fauna to ask, "That's okay, right? No special plans or anything?" He supposed she either asked Fauna for some special 'girl' thing, or maybe her own experiences with Sawyer knew that, no matter the designations, Sawyer was never the one to make the plan in the relationship, and even now, as a claimed Dominant, he knew Fauna would be the one making the bulk decisions on how they'd be spending their day or night.

Fauna was glad Molly laughed, she really did want the other girl to feel like she was okay with everything. Because objectively she was. She wanted them both to be able to get closure on what was clearly a very painful chapter of their lives, she just didn’t want them to get too much closure to a point that they missed one another or wanted to start over. “He’s a danger to himself and society when he gets going. It’s why him and his brother have to wear so many layers.. to kinda cling film their limbs.” It was a weak joke and she’d probably apologise for it later, but it was the best that she could come up with while she was so distracted. Molly looked to her and the nasty little Tinkerbell buried deep down inside smirked. As if to say ‘yes nothing happens with him without my say so’ but she pushed the fairy into the drawer and smiled the best and softest one that she should. “No special plans. You kids have fun, maybe I’ll let Finn persuade me into that Maize Maze he’s so convinced that I should visit.”

Sawyer felt himself blush at all the height jokes, ducking his face into his scarf so they didn’t have further ammunition regarding his reddened face. “Coffee sounds good,” He said, slightly delayed, nodding when Fauna gave the go-ahead that Friday was fine. Molly nodded, smiling politely still. “I mean, the Maize Maze is the only selling point of Lima, so you may as well go see our famous landmark. I mean it’s no Statue of Liberty or anything but it’s something.” Sawyer laughed at this, thinking back to all the times Finn had begged to go to that maze, with a reluctant Sawyer and Molly joining him, knowing his brother would be really grateful for Fauna to take him up on that offer. “Honestly I’m sure if he could, Finn would have moved into that maze a long time ago.” He commented, “Um so, Friday...at the Starbucks on the corner?” He suggested, wanting them to meet up in a neutral place that meant nothing to either of them, that also granted them some privacy. “Sure. Two-ish?” Molly asked, and a part of Sawyer wondered if she was hoping that time was too inconvenient for him, and a part of him wanted to lie and say it couldn’t work, but it was true that he had no plans that day. So he swallowed down the lie and grinned. “Two-ish works. It was...um, it was really good to see you.” He said hesitantly. Molly’s smile formed into something that, whilst genuine, was tighter. “Yeah, you too. And uh, it was really nice meeting you too, Fauna.” She said with a wider smile, and Sawyer wondered if he imagined the sad glint in her eyes for a millisecond.

“Well I guess I can perform some kind of study on the difference in Maize Maze foliage between Ireland and Ohio.” Fauna found herself saying without really knowing why. Finn had seemed very excited by the idea of them all going into the Maze together and would probably be disappointed that Sawyer had made plans without him. But Fauna was sure as long as Alexis went the other Hudson brother wouldn’t really care. The tension between the two other people standing there remained in the air, and Fauna reached over with her spare hand to subtly take his much larger one in hers and to gently squeeze it. To say, it’s okay I’m here, you’re doing so very well with all of this. Seeing Molly here must have been something akin to bumping into Charlotte and instead of running Sawyer was doing everything in his power to face this all head on and for that Fauna had to support him. Molly addressed her, and Fauna made sure she was smiling when she said. “Lovely to meet you too Molly. I hope you have a wonderful holiday.” She nodded, trying not to sound as distracted by Sawyers discomfort as she actually was.

Sawyer let out a small contorted laugh at Fauna’s randomness. He knew she had her moments, it was the Flanagan gene, but she rarely caught him by surprise like this. His heart was pounding in his chest, smoothed only by Fauna clasping his hand in hers and squeezing it. I’m here, she silently told him. He squeezed back; an I know, a thank you, and I’m here too. They finally shared their awkward goodbyes with Molly and she shuffled away, Sawyer purposefully walking past the store they were originally heading for to collapse on a bench, feeling nauseous, limbs heavy. “Jesus Christ,” He murmured, his large hands supporting his head. “That was the worst thing to have ever happened.”

She was simply glad that he’d squeezed back, there was a part of her that had worried he’d be too nervous to care about their little signal. She kept hold of him as she watched Molly go, silently hating the other girl for having made the day take this turn. She let him pull her along, heart aching as he collapsed into the bench, small hands finding his shoulders as he sat down, standing over him protectively. “Hey.. you did so well Sawyer. Honestly you were so brave, inviting her out like that. I couldn’t be more proud of you.” She promised, rubbing her thumbs over his shoulders. “You were so kind and open. It literally couldn’t have gone better. Even if it was bloody awful to get through.” Fauna promised him, feeling like she wanted to shield him from the world while he took a moment to recover.

He gave himself a moment to compose himself, to slow his heartbeat, and control his reddened face. Fauna's very presence there helped immensely, and he didn't know if he could have done it without her by his side. "Yeah?" He asked, looking up at her, feeling uncharacteristically small in this moment. "I'm just...I'm just glad it's over." Sawyer offered a small grin to his submissive, "Hopefully that litle detour down Memory Lane is the only one..." He trailed off as he noticed someone else make their way down through the mall, and Sawyer just watched with a blank stare, in disbelief that he had just jinxed himself. But there he was, Tommy de Luca, in the flesh. Sawyer silently prayed the other man wouldn't see him, but apparently the universe was ignoring his pleas today, as the high school bully  of the Hudson-Hummel clan beelined towards Sawyer and Fauna.

Fauna just continued to smooth her thumbs over his shoulders as he composed himself, she would give him all the time in the world if he needed it. “Yeah, you were friendly and open and you left things open for her and that’s all anyone could hope for.” The brunette promised him, reaching to take one of his big hands. “It is over and you don’t have to think about it for a while. I think we need a winter warmer.. come on I’ll buy you the biggest gingerbread latte that Starbucks does-“ She started. “Oi Hudson. Didn’t know you were in town.” Tommy called coming all the way up to them. “Having a cry already? Sad that drunk old Dad won’t make it to Thanksgiving.” He taunted trying to look around Fauna. Who turned to him with a little scowl gracing her face. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you can get fucked. Stat.” The Irish girl demanded waving her hand  as if to direct him to leave. “Aww it’s cute that you’ve got this little girl standing up for you Hudson. That’s a pretty short skirt she’s got on, I can practically see her ass hanging out.”

All of Fauna's soothing words of encouragement didn't register to Sawyer as Tommy came up to them, taunting them. It had been years since they had last seen each other, and honestly, Sawyer pitied the other man. He was so scared of his feelings and himself, and just had to take it out on others. A part of Sawyer, the nasty high school jock who stirred when Tommy's voice was heard, wanted to loudly point that out and embarass him, but he pushed it down. No matter how vile Tommy was, Sawyer was to show him some compassion. And he was willing to ignore him until he could feel his legs again and he and Fauna could carry on their day. Until he came for Fauna that was. Then it was all cards off the table. Sawyer stood tall, all 6"5 of him towering over Tommy, dropping Fauna's hand as he did, scowl etched on his face. "That little girl, Tommy, happens to be my claim, Fauna," Sawyer informed him, voice low and dangerous, "normally I'd list her accomplishments, like how she graduated high school early back in Belfast, or how she finished med school with top grades, or her list of amazing extracurriculars, including being a flyer on the cheer team of one of the best finishing schools in the country, and captaining science club." His scowl turned into a nasty smirk, a piece of vital information the couple had laughed about months earlier suddenly popping into his head, "But I don't need to, because she informed me last month you seemed to have liked a photo of hers from 275 weeks ago. So it seems like you pretty much know our deal. Now," He clenched his fist and his jaw, "Get out of my fucking face, de Luca, or the 'ass hanging out' of my submissive's skirt will be the last thing you ever fucking see."

Tommy seemed pleased when Sawyer stood, obviously having hoped to gain a rise out of him when he mentioned Fauna. Willing to do anything to capture the Dominants attention. Though there was a flicker of something akin to fear in his eye when Sawyer mentioned that he'd liked Faunas picture. "Well.. I'm a fan of her work. As I'm sure is every fucking guy in town, I've seen her little videos. Makes sense that the only girl you'd manage to get is a fucking slut- but then it's probably the Daddy issues that bonded you." Tommy sneered. Fauna put a little hand on Sawyers chest, she didn't care if he hit Tommy but she felt like he would care. Like he would feel like he'd let himself down or something. Tommys words stung because he was repeating one of her more significant fears. That all of Sawyers friends, and relatives would see her videos and wonder why he was ever with her. That they would all think he'd done rather badly for himself, their all American boy, and yet it was more sad to her that Tommy had taken the time to watch her video at all. Considering the fact that he was most likely a gay man. "Thanks for your views Tommy, bit sad though that you spend your time stalking me rather than- I don't know finding a submissive or a life of your own. I think it's time we all moved on from high school.. don't you? Or is your life really so fucking empty that Sawyer and I's relationship is the only thing you have to think about." She snapped.

Tommy bristled again, his face briefly twisting with an expression of something akin to shame as he looked past Fauna at Sawyer. Fauna almost felt bad for him because she could almost see the pining buried deep underneath all that bravado. She more than anyone understood what it was like to want Sawyer more than anything else. "You really are pathetic these days Hudson, letting your whore of a submissive fight your battles for you. Did you finally end up on drugs like your deadbeat Dad? Drinking to get yourself through the day. Reflex's too slow to take me on like in high school, or maybe you're scared that even she'll leave you if she see's what a fucking psychopath you are. That's why every other fucking girl you ever dated left you right, scared you'd fucking snap on them. Because you're a fagg-" While Tommy had been speaking Fauna had removed one of her mittens from her hand, and curled her fist in the exact way that Percy had once taught her after a few too many. Then she simply pulled back her arm and punched him as hard as she could possibly muster in the nose, her fist meeting his face with a satisfying crack. Tommy recoiled but Fauna advanced on him. "Don't you ever fucking speak to him like that again you vile little cunt. He's too fucking nice to ever ruin you but I'm bloody not. You ever so much as breathe in my Dominants direction ever again and I'll break your fucking arm and I'll make sure you never so much as take out a pizza in peace. You hear me?"

Each word hit Sawyer like a tonne of bricks, and he could feel the anger practically burning in his veins. His fists were clenched, and he stepped closer, fully aware he was going to give Tommy exactly wha the other wanted to get out of his taunting. However, Fauna was too quick for him. He looked in shock horror as her small fists made contact with Tommy's face, and he winced as he heard the definite cracking of the other man's nose. The threat Fauna made to him wasn't pretty either. Sawyer frantically looked around, noticing some people were beginning to stare, and he knew he had to do something before they got in trouble. Without thinking, he picked up Fauna and put her aside, before pushing Tommy against the wall in a blind mix of panic and rage. "If her hand is fucking broken from what you made her do, you're finished De Luca." He growled, before dropping his grip on him. He then swooped Fauna up and began to briskly walk away from the scene, muttering the word 'fuck' repeatedly under his breath until they were safely back in Sawyer's mom's car, luckily not followed by Tommy or any security personnel. "Fuck!" He then exclaimed once he could breathe again.

Fauna couldn't stop herself from smirking just for a minute when she saw how completely she had broken Tommys nose, the doctor inside of her told her he'd need it reset pretty pronto. Her smirk faded when she saw the panicked look on her Dominants face, and felt pretty terrible for scaring him. Surprised when he lifted her up and put her aside, an apology dying on her lips. She tried really hard not to be aroused by the way that Sawyer pushed Tommy up against the wall, and instead just sort of stood there until he pulled her off her feet again. She didn't say a word as he carried her out of there, flexing her hand a little. It wasn't broken, Percys advice had proved once again to be solid, it might need icing later though she'd hit Tommy as hard as she could muster. "I'm sorry Sir." She said in a small voice once they were in the car. "I know you didn't want to hit him, but I couldn't let him say all those things to you that weren't true. I know I was a bad girl."

Sawyer’s heartbeat was slowing from the adrenaline rush he received during those few moments interacting with Tommy. In response to Fauna’s apology, his heart panging at the softness in her tone, he leaned over and kissed her hard. “Thank you,” He murmured, “don’t be sorry. He deserved it. You were amazing.” Sawyer promised. “I just really didn’t want us to get arrested a few days after being claimed.”

The tiny brunette felt a sense of relief when he leaned over and kissed her, her hand coming up to touch his cheek. “Oh good.” She responded breathlessly. “I mean I don’t want to get arrested either, I’ll be honest I wasn’t really thinking about it. My brain was more focused on making more nobody ever spoke to you like that ever again. I don’t know how you managed it in high school. He’s a class A cunt.” She said without remorse.

He let out a short laugh as she explained her reasoning behind the actions. "Honestly, that's how I managed it in high school," He admitted, "I'm surprised his nose isn't permanently bandaged up." Sawyer let out a sigh as he thought about Tommy again. "God, you have to really feel sorry for a kid like that, so angry at himself he takes it out on others in that way." He glanced down, gently taking Fauna's hand. "It's not broken, is it? Because I will make good on my promise and go back and kill him for you."

Fauna laughed too. "I mean I hardly blame you, if anyone ever spoke to Ror like that I'd have made damn well sure they didn't have teeth by the time the bell rang." She shrugged. "It is sad.. and so weird that he's still stalking you hard enough that he knew that much about me. I mean I get it because I'm also like obsessed with you but still I wish he could just come to terms with himself." She said quietly, shaking her head as he took her hand. "No it's not broken, it'll bruise but that's a given considering how hard I hit him. Percy taught me how to throw a punch without breaking my hand when I was like nine, it was some of the only useful knowledge he's ever shared with me."

Sawyer nodded in agreement, imagining the visual. "Well, that was the case for me in school, especially with Finn. Tommy tortured the poor guy. It's just...I keep remembering the day he approached me, and how normal and friendly he was," He shrugged, "Sometimes I feel like hooking up with him was the wrong call. Like it just made him feel worse about himself, confirmed it for him all those feelings were slightly more complex than he hoped to be." Truthfully, Sawyer didn't know much about how Tommy was truly feeling, his therapist even said that she couldn't diagnose him from a second-hand account, but that's the conclusion they had 'hypothetically' reached. "Well, let's go get some ice on it. Maybe something with sugar in it. Your dad really taught you to punch like that?" He paused,thinking about Percy, and laughed. "You know what, yeah, I can see it."

Fauna reached with the hand that he wasn’t holding to push his hair off his face tenderly. “You couldn’t have known.. people start relationships out of things like that. Like people who get married... Hooking up with him could have ended with you guys even just being friendly.. but it didn’t and that’s his choice. You gave him a chance that he didn’t deserve by even getting a hot dog with him... one day probably when he’s like 48 and finally ready to accept himself. You’ll get some weird apology via Facebook messenger. Or maybe you won’t, but either way he’s the one that not only did you dirty here but also did himself dirty. Because hooking up with you is literally the third best thing in the world.” She pressed a kiss against his left cheek. “Getting to know you, that’s the second best.”  Fauna pressed a second kiss against his right cheek. “And getting to love you is the greatest privilege in the world.” She told him with her impish smile. “Sugar! Yes please.” She agreed happily. “Perfect thing to teach your nine year old after you’ve had a pint or eight. How not to break your hand when punching someone.”

"I can't wait to read out the weird Facebook message when we're sat on our porch watching the sunset," He teased lightly, her words washing over him in a soothing manner. Fauna always knew the right thing to say, and Sawyer was ultimately grateful. He grinned as she listed the top three favourite things about him, feeling himself blush at the words. "That's funny, because loving you is the greatest privilege to me. Guess our lists are pretty similar." He murmured, before catching his lips against hers. "Okay, let's head to a grocery store. Who knows, maybe Cassidy will be lurking in the deli aisle, or Brad is hiding among the cereals." He joked with a weak smile, shaking his head at the idea of Fauna's dad. "Well it came in handy. We should send him a bottle of whiskey as a thank you." He deadpanned, not sure where this random bout of dry humour had come from, probably still in shock from the rollercoaster he had been on today.

She was glad that he seemed less tense, that she'd managed to soothe over some of the hurt of this particularly jarring little trip down memory lane. "As long as he doesn't hope you'll run into his arms in the sunset I'd enjoy that very much." The little brunette agreed, kissing him for a long lazy moment before smiling when he returned her compliment. "I think we have a lot of similar lists which is good, considering you agreed to be my prisoner for life once after I held you at knife point." Fauna laughed at the idea of Brad lingering in the cereals. "It's okay Sawyer the wild Brad is more scared of you than you are of him." She giggled, and then let out another stream of giggles when he joked about the bottle of whiskey. "Or just the half drunk one in our kitchen?"

Sawyer chuckled at the imagery. "If he ever ran down towards me, I'd honestly sock him, it's my knee jerk reaction." He admitted, feeling safe and secure that Fauna didn't care about his past, especially now he watched her throw a punch of his own. "Well, as you can tell, I held up my end of the bargain. I'll gladly be your prisoner until the end of time. Knife of no knife." He promised her, momentarily holding his fingers up in Scout's Honour. The words about Brad made him huff in amusement, mostly because they were true, but at least Brad's internalised homophobia was presented in him being overtly nice, too considerate about personal space and boundaries. It was still a shitty thing, to be hiding away like that, but at least Brad had some compassion. "God, that would drive your dad crazy, returning a half-drunk bottle of whiskey, maybe a note on how you do prefer 'that swill' after all," He joked in reference to Percy's dismissal approach to Fauna's usual drinks of choice. "Come on, Kitten," He then said, "let's blow this popsicle stand, before the cops hunt us down."

Fauna giggled at the image of Tommy trying to run into Sawyers arms, and Sawyer just panicking and smacking him one. "I mean I would also have that reaction to a lot of my past hook ups so maybe it's natural." The irish girl suggested lightly. "I let you collar me so I think I'm keeping my end of the deal too." She agreed, returning his scouts honour with her tongue stuck out for effect. "God, he's such a dick about alcohol until he's had a couple in him and then he's suddenly willing to do a shot of bathtub gin." She sighed, and then nodded. "Rodger that Sir, on the run we go. Bonnie and Clyde for life!"

[katieamazeballs]

Maksim Chmerkovskiy and Peta Murgatroyd are getting candid about the parenting struggles they're facing amid the ongoing coronavirus pandemic.

ET caught up with the Dancing With the Stars pros, along with their 3-year-old son, Shai, via Zoom chat this week, where they showed fans firsthand what quarantining with a toddler 24/7 is like. Throughout the video (which you can watch in the player above), Shai can be seen running back and forth from the camera, giving his parents balloons, singing, showing us trucks and more.

"We are good. We are taking it day by day and trying to find all the amazing positives out of this experience, but it's hard," Peta confessed to ET's Lauren Zima. "I gotta say. It's been difficult sometimes."

"It's a big change. The big plus is that we have the family time, like all the time now, which is incredible," she continued. "But with the gyms being closed and everything, like, we love to work out. We love to get that exercise every single day to keep our minds active, to get up and wake up feeling good."

Luckily, Maks and Peta have still found a way to stay active while engaging with their fans at the same time. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday they've been hosting virtual workouts via Instagram Live.

"Working out and exercising is our life; it's our profession. We will not come out of this without moving the strides so for us, believe it or not, this was a necessary step," Maks explained. "We're in a small, little more compact place, so we felt like [we need to find] what works for us and would work for others."

"We don't have a lot of space to do full-out dancing, but what we can do in our courtyard and inside our house is enough, so to speak," added Peta. "You don't really need anything else but your body weight. When we do our workout sessions, we don't use any weights, nothing like that, because we know people can't necessarily get a hold of that stuff [right now]."

Maks also spoke about how he and Peta are trying to find one-on-one time without the help of a babysitter.

"Mama-papa time lasts like 30 minutes, because as soon as Shai's in bed, we try to watch some Netflix," he shared. "It's a struggle. We pass out on the couch and wake up at, like, 2:30 a.m. It's been interesting."

"We're trying. We're doing our best, everybody's figuring it out," he continued. "We rely so much on outside help, it's crazy, so this is a good time for people to reconnect as families and figure this out. Be together and know how to spend that time."

Meanwhile, Maks' brother, Val Chmerkovskiy, just celebrated his one-year wedding anniversary with Jenna Johnson. Though the two weren't able to go out and about, they still found a way to make the day feel special while quarantined with Maks and Peta.

"1 year down, eternity to go 💫 Happy 1st Anniversary my love.. crazy to think that exactly a year ago we were celebrating with all of our closest friends and family!" Jenna gushed on Instagram. "And although this isn't how we were meant to spend our first anniversary, I’m incredibly grateful to spend it snuggled up next to you safe and sound. Thank you for the greatest year of my life. I love you and I LOVE being your wifey."

"I am so grateful that it's you that I get to call my wife, that it's you I get to wake up next to, that it's you I get to love for life, you I get to have and eat my cake too," Val wrote on his own Instagram. "Rhyme aside, I love you dearly, lucky to have you and hold you near me. What a privilege I've been given, you're gods gift that keeps on giving. I love you. More than I love words that rhyme, more than music more than wine, go to the general and save some time."

"I love you more than humor, you inspire me to do more, to be true more, honestly I can’t imagine loving you more," he continued. "But I will, celebrating you daily, you bring something powerful out of me like dairy. I will love you from now till eternity. Happy April 13th, our wedding anniversary. ♥️"

Tune into Entertainment Tonight on Thursday to see the full interview with Maks and Peta.

[getbacktoworknovice]

Blog Bois; Intro

[Hey guys~! I wrote up this little intro for my bois so y’all could get to know them and get an idea of what the’re like~ They also live on this blog so if you want to ask them anything or learn about them all you have to do is ask~ I hope you all like them~]

Jack had his tongue poked out in concentration, wanting to make sure he had the mixture nice and even as he poured it into the pan. Next to casseroles and curry, cakes were his favorite thing to make in the kitchen. He made them from scratch and he was always trying something new with the icing and presentation, especially when it came to his cake decorating classes, but today he was keeping it simple as he was just baking for his roommates. 

One of them, his cousin Aiden, had left about an hour ago, wanting to take some pictures of the rainfall as it was pouring outside. Jack had gotten him a waterproof case for his phone as a present as Aiden had spent so much money replacing screens and headphone jacks. It had been a very good investment. 

As if on cue, Aiden came in the back door, shaking the rain out of his hair though it wasn’t helping at all. He was soaked. Jack blinked curiously at his cousin as the man hung his jacket on one of the hooks they’d hung by the backdoor and came over to sit at the bar-style breakfast nook they used as a table, setting his camera bag on top. 

"You know that jacket has a hood right? " Jack asked him curiously as Aiden dug out his camera. The reddish brown-haired man looked up at him like he had no idea why that would matter.

“I like the way the rain feels,” He said, beckoning his younger cousin over. “Come, come, look at the pictures I took.” He insisted, wanting to share. Jack shook his head with a smile, hopping over to take a peek at his pictures. 

“I thought you were going to use your phone?” Jack asked as Aiden cycled through the pictures, showing him the ones he had taken of the cloudy, rainy outdoors. 

“I did at first but I swapped them because my camera doesn't take as good of a picture.” He said. Once Aiden had finished showing him the pictures he looked up and finally seemed to realize that jack was in the middle of something. “Oh, what are you making?” He asked curiously as Jack seemed to realize that he hadn't finished his cake yet. 

“Oh!” He said scurrying back over to the pan. “I’m making a red velvet cake for dessert tonight, I’m making chicken caesar wraps for dinner since it's Wednesday.” He explained and Aiden groaned, putting his camera back in its bag. 

“Ugh, I wish it was Saturday, I hate waiting for his cheat day to have something fried.” He admitted, resting his cheek in his hand. Vincent, the third roommate who had been friends with Aiden since high school, followed a pretty strict regiment with his workout and was very serious about his physical health. The man was a machine. Since Jack was in charge of the kitchen he had wanted to make meals that everyone could enjoy instead of Vincent having to buy and prepare his own meals separately. So they had all agreed to follow his eating habits as they were better for them anyway.

But boy did Aiden miss his fried foods. 

“That's what the cake is for,” Jack assured him as he put it in the oven, switching on the oven light to keep an eye on it as the oven had already preheated and then moved to prepare dinner. Aiden got up and both stopped in their movements when they heard a thumping from upstairs. 

“Ah speak of the devil,” Aiden said as Jack giggled. Since it was raining outside Vincent had to do his workout routine inside. He never went to a gym and did all his exercises and activities at home or at work. So instead of going for a run, he was up in his room running in place. It made a lot of noise. “I’ll go tell him dinners being made.’ Aiden offered, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading towards the stairs.

The townhouse they all shared was cozy with a lot of personal touches from all of them making the place really feel like home. Aiden had some of his favorite photos on display next to posters of cute anime girls that Jack liked and artwork that Vincent had done. Vincent had insisted on just tossing them in the trash but Jack had framed them so he felt like they had to stay. 

The bookshelves they had were littered with books of all types. Photography books, cookbooks, workout books, fashion, and art books for various movies and games. Cups of random things like pens and pencils and measuring cups were here and there as well as a few snowglobes from Aidens collection. Aprons and workout gear were scattered around the living room as well as jackets and clothes and shoes. 

Aiden knew they needed to clean up soon and he was waiting for a day they were all off as he made them both help him clean. Aiden was the most organized and responsible of the three so he handled pretty much everything in terms of running the house. The budget, the cleaning, the reorganizing, and disinfecting that was all on him. Vincent and Jack weren’t lazy by any means just busy, well jack more so than Vincent. 

Jack was a culinary student at the local college where Aiden used to go and Vincent...well, Vincent was a different story. Aiden knocked on his door, hearing the running in place stop as he poked his head in. 

Vincent was stretching his arms when he looked over at him. “Sorry, rains got me a bit stir crazy.” He said, thinking he had come to get on his case about the noise he was making. Aiden shook his head, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Nothing to apologize for just wanted to let you know Jack’s making chicken caesar wraps for dinner.” He explained as Vincent stretched out his back. Aiden heard a very loud pop. 

“Oh cool, those are always good,” He said sitting down to stretch his legs. “Reminds me I need to go to the store and get some more salad, we’re almost out.” He said and Aiden nodded. 

“I put it on the list.” He said, giving Vincent a curious yet knowing look. “How was work?” He asked and Vincent only gave him a look in response. Currently, Vincent worked at a warehouse that manufactured car parts and he was the youngest of all the workers. The work wasn't bad but because he was young he got a lot of flack from the older guys, especially in terms of strength. He always worked his ass off but it never seemed to be enough, his hours just kept getting cut. 

He hated it. 

“About as good as it always goes.” Was all Vincent said, groaning a bit as he felt a muscle in his leg pull a bit, easing off of it and leaning back on his hands with a sigh. “I know I’ve been short on rent the past few months but I’m lookin’ for another job, I got an interview at the convenience store on the corner tomorrow and I think it’ll be a pretty easy get.” He said. “The pay is crap but they’ve got the hours so…” He said. “I’m gonna try and make it up to you.” He said honestly and Aiden couldn't help but feel bad. 

Aiden himself had gone to college and graduated and gotten a job in a field he loved and a well paying one at that. Jack was a student but already had a job at his favorite restaurant, tutoring under a really sweet older guy who already wanted to give the kid a permanent place in his staff once he graduated. Vincent...had a bit of a rougher go at things. 

He graduated college but he struggled to find a job in his major and he’d been trying to find one for three years. No one would hire him because of his lack of experience but he worked harder and learned faster than anyone Aiden knew and he had no idea how it felt to not be able to do the thing he loved. It really made him feel for Vincent. 

He never showed it but it depressed him greatly. 

“Well, I may have something part-time you could do.” Aiden offered and Vincent looked up at him curiously. 

“What like be a photographer? I’m terrible at that.” He said as he had never taken a decent picture in his life. Aiden laughed.

“Oh God no, I’d never put you behind the camera,” he insisted making the other man grumble at him. “No I was thinking of putting you in front of one.” He said and vincent gave him a curious look. 

“Okay…” He said and Aiden dug through his camera bag, pulling out a business card and crossing the room to hand it to him. Vincent looked it over curiously, seeing it was a pretty simple card with a very...fun logo.

“I work with a guy who goes to conventions, big ones all over the world,” Aiden explained. “He does cosplay videos and interviews and he’s looking for models to start his own kind of group to take with him for advertising purposes.” He explained and Vincent looked a bit more interested. “I take the cosplay photos for him sometimes when I can make it to conventions and do those paid photoshoots,” he said. 

“Okay, so what, you want me to carry his stuff around?” Vincent asked sarcastically, as Aiden and Jack always joked about him being the mule since he was the strongest of them. Aiden shook his head. 

“No, he’s looking for models dum dum,” Aiden teased, pointing at him. “You’d be perfect, especially for his Marvel stuff,” Aiden said and Vincent blinked.

“You want me to be a cosplayer?” Vincent said incredulously. 

“A professional cosplayer yes,” Aiden said. “The money is good and you get to travel and you get to meet new people all while being dressed up like Captain America or Ruroni Kenshin,” Aiden said, naming two of his favorites. Vincent perked a little at that, looking at the card with renewed curiosity. “Just give him a call,” Aiden said. “There’s no harm in trying right?” He assured him and Vincent gave a hum of thought before hearing Jack call from downstairs. 

“Dinners ready guys~!” 

Aiden turned and left the room, going to his own to put his camera bag away and Vincent got up, putting the card on his desk and tapping it a bit before moving to head downstairs. 

Dinner was pretty basic in terms of conversation, Jack talking about classes and Vincent listening while dropping a sarcastic quip here and there with Aiden just listening quietly. It was the same routine as every night and Aiden couldn't help but wonder if perhaps that would change soon. 

[jgroffdaily]

[This article appears in the September 16, 2019, issue of New York Magazine.]

Within minutes of my meeting Jonathan Groff, he asks if I would like a slice of cherry pie, and then, only a short time later, if I would like to be eaten by a giant plant. The first I readily accept because Groff and the rest of the cast of Little Shop of Horrors have thoroughly analyzed the desserts they picked up for a bus ride down from New York to the suburban Philadelphia puppet studio where they’re rehearsing for the day, and they’ve all concluded it’s the best option. The idea of being eaten by a plant seems a little less palatable, considering the contortions involved in entering the hippopotamus-esque maw of the man-eating Audrey II, which is operated by several puppeteers, and because I’m not sure if Groff is making a serious offer. I learn quickly that he is always offering you things, and those offers are always serious.

The puppet in question represents the largest form of Audrey II, a sassy carnivorous horticultural oddity that convinces Seymour, an awkward flower-shop assistant, to commit murder in the pursuit of fame, fortune, and a suburban life with the original Audrey, a human who works with him. The day I visit, Groff, playing the misfit Seymour (despite good looks that actor Christian Borle, who plays the maniacal dentist, Orin, describes as “scrumptious”), and his castmates are climbing inside Audrey II one by one, figuring out how each of them will die. Wearing a hat from Beyoncé and Jay-Z’s “On the Run II” tour, Groff jumps inside wielding a floppy machete, which is so un-aerodynamic it keeps getting stuck in Audrey II’s lips. Groff suggests a real machete prop would be sturdier, and they try substituting an umbrella, which flies out more cleanly. Michael Mayer, the director, says with satisfaction, “It’s a belch!”

Staging this revival of Little Shop is “illegal fun,” as Groff puts it. The original ran from 1982 to 1987 but never transferred to Broadway, at the insistence of writer-lyricist Howard Ashman, who wanted to preserve the show’s off-kilter spirit in a smaller space. Ashman and composer Alan Menken would go on to fill the Disney Renaissance — which consisted of films like The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast — with the Marie’s Crisis–ready melodies and queer subversions you can already hear in Little Shop (Ashman died of aids-related complications in 1991). Despite a Broadway staging that kicked off in 2003, this version is staying put at the Westside Theatre Off Broadway in hopes of preserving the quirky spirit of the original. There’s a lot of laughter in rehearsal as well as dress codes like a “kimono Wednesday,” which Mayer enforces by handing me a spare kimono when I drop in that day.

I can’t imagine anyone who is consistently involved in or adjacent to homicide having a better time. In addition to playing a murderously nice guy in Little Shop, Groff stars in Netflix’s David Fincher–produced drama Mindhunter, playing an FBI agent who interviews serial killers; the show is based on the real work of John Douglas, who was one of the first criminal profilers. Considering he’s no big fan of true crime, Groff is somewhat confused about how he became a poster boy for gore and mutilation, though he’s enjoying the texts from friends who point out that even when he does musical comedy, there’s a dark edge involved. A few days after we meet in Philadelphia, we’re talking over breakfast at the cozy Grey Dog in Chelsea, where he insists on paying for everything, picking up all the water and utensils, and getting up from the table to refill my coffee cup when it’s empty.

Groff signed up to star in Little Shop this spring after careful consideration, by which I mean he got the offer and then listened to the original cast recording on repeat for a whole weekend. He’d never played Seymour before, unlike the majority of white male theater actors, but he had positive memories of seeing the first performance of the 2003 Broadway version just after high school, when he was rehearsing the role of Rolf in a non-Equity tour of The Sound of Music. “I wanted to make sure that I’m bleeding for it eight times a week,” he says, which is his measure for doing musicals; he wants to make sure he won’t get bored with the material. Even now, when I assume he might want a break from it during rehearsals, Groff still has the album on repeat. “I never went to college, and I’m not educated, really, so I couldn’t say, like, intellectually why that is,” he says. “When I listened to it, it shot through my heart.”

There’s a clue, however, in the way he remembers obsessing over the film version of the show as a seventh-grader, standing in his kitchen with the song “Skid Row” on repeat — specifically when Seymour sings, “Someone show me a way to get outta here.” It was an appealing message to a closeted kid whom Groff describes as just “a sweaty, uncomfortable person with a secret that was so deep-rooted I wasn’t even flirting with the idea of being myself.” With a little distance from that version of himself (the child of a phys-ed teacher and a horse trainer, growing up in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and occasionally having to clean stables on the weekends), Groff recalls the kinds of tells that seem obvious in retrospect, like, say, listening to “Skid Row” on repeat. Or developing an obsession with I Love Lucy, which he still watches before going to bed. Or dancing along to the Donna Reed’s Dinner Party album when his parents weren’t home. There’s a similar longing in Little Shop, which has the queerest kind of perspective on its central couple, as Audrey and Seymour imagine an unreachable, heteronormative life away from skid row and where she looks “like Donna Reed.”

If there’s a murderous kinship between Little Shop and Mindhunter, it extends to the shows’ shared skepticism about that white-picket-fence-style normalcy. Holden, Groff’s profiler character, is a cardboard cutout of a man with a girlfriend who introduces him to 1970s-style sexual liberation, but he is ultimately more fascinated with the deviancy of the killers he’s interviewing. To play him, Groff shuts down his charisma, amassing such emptiness between his angular jaw and his eyebrows that you wonder if he’ll slip into deviancy himself. It’s a performance of square, even sinister straightness that feels close to the best-little-boy performances of closeted queer men, though what seems to thrill Holden most in the show are his interviews with killers. “Sexuality is so complicated, and the people I’ve ended up working with who have cast me in straight parts are interested in looking at things in a complicated way,” Groff says, noting that he feels the argument about whether gay actors can play straight, or vice versa, has gotten “sillier” as time goes on. “Being out and gay and being myself, it allowed me to find people that weren’t closed-minded.”

Groff came out when he was 23, without directly consulting his agent, after he’d become an idol to the nation’s theater teens of Facebook by starring as the sexy, rebellious, tousle-haired Melchior in Spring Awakening. “I was so compartmentalized,” he says, “singing about sex but then not talking about it.” He remains thankful for the way Mayer, who also directed that show, choreographed the explicit sex between himself and Lea Michele’s Wendla clinically, without asking them about their own experiences. He hadn’t spent too much time worrying about the aftereffects of coming out on his career, which were more limiting in 2009 than they are now. “I did think I might not be seen as a romantic lead, but ultimately I was okay with that,” he says, explaining that he was in love at the time and didn’t want to hide it. “At 23, I’d rather just have a real romantic relationship than pretend to have one with a girl.”

Several years after coming out, Groff booked a leading role in HBO’s Looking, a comedy-drama about gay men in San Francisco, which he calls one of the most fulfilling roles he’s had. The series ran for two seasons and got a wrap-up movie but never quite found a viewership, even among queer audiences, instead receiving, as he puts it, “a total mixed bag of very extreme reactions.” Some of that was because people just didn’t like the show — which was often slower, more interior, and whiter and fitter than people may have wanted — and some of it was because it was “carrying a lot of weight; there wasn’t a lot of specifically gay content on a major cable network.” To Groff, making the show opened him up to the possibility of using material from his own experience in his work. Among the cast and crew, “we would talk about stories about PrEP and uncut dicks and monogamy,” he recalls, among “so many stories about anal douching,” and those anecdotes would make their way into the scripts. He was used to a sort of “closeted training of the mind” to abstract himself from his own experience. Looking taught him he could use it.

Recently, Groff has developed an ability to end up near the center of cultural sensations. He stepped in for Brian d’Arcy James as Hamilton’s fey Britpop version of King George III midway through the show’s Off Broadway run. It was a somewhat ideal gig, given that he was onstage for only about nine minutes a night, performed crowd-pleasing kiss-off songs, met Beyoncé, earned a Tony nomination, and got a lot of reading done backstage. This fall, he’s in Disney’s sequel to Frozen, where he returns to play Princess Anna’s rugged (at a Disney-appropriate level) love interest, Kristoff. In the first movie, while Idina Menzel’s Elsa got the vocal-cord shattering “Let It Go,” Groff sang only a few lines of melody between Kristoff and his reindeer, Sven. This time around, he’s putting his Broadway training to use with a full-length solo. It’s the second one he recorded for the movie, since the writers had one idea for a Kristoff piece (“a jam”) but then canned that song while promising Groff they’d write something different, which he didn’t quite believe. “Then they fucking wrote that other song,” he says, characteristically effusive. “I was like, Wow, and the animation of the song is so brilliant.”

As personable as Groff is and as successful as he has become — and as beloved, especially among theater fans and people like my mother — there’s a point at which he maintains a certain distance, in what feels like a way to stem his own impulses. He doesn’t use any social media, though he did consider it when Looking was struggling, before he realized “I’d have to be good at it and want to do it, and I don’t.” He has never thrown himself a birthday party, because the impulse to make sure everyone’s having a good time would stress him out too much. In behavior that reminds me of both a secret agent and Kim Kardashian, he regularly goes through and deletes all his texts after responding to each of them. “I want to make sure I get back to everyone,” he says, holding his iPhone up in front of me to reveal the remarkably few surviving messages.

Before Groff gets up to leave breakfast and travel to rehearsal by way of the single-speed bicycle he rides around Manhattan, we end up talking about the larger trajectory of his career. Considering that he’s scaling down for a revival run of a musical Off Broadway, was he ever the kind of actor who thought of his work as building up to something? A big film? A franchise? “I think I gave that up when I came out of the closet,” he says. “I gave up the idea that there was an end goal or ideal or some kind of dream to work toward.” An image appears in my mind of the life Audrey sings about in Little Shop, a place that’s comfortable, traditional, and expected, somewhere that’s green. “When I moved to New York, what I wanted was to be on Broadway. That happened and then I came out, and it’s sort of been anybody’s guess since then,” Groff says. “I like when something makes me cry or I can’t stop listening to it. Okay, I want to do that.”

Little Shop of Horrors is in previews and opens October 17 at Westside Theatre Upstairs. Buy tickets here.

[stayforya]

SEÑORITA

member: kim namjoon

genre: ceo!au

words: 4.7k

summary: when you learned spanish, you knew it would take you to many places in business matters. however, you couldn't imagine that it would create a special conexión between you and your new boss.

monday morning, 7am

you were very nervous, to be honest

after graduating, you finally found your first job in your field, business administration

because of all your experiences as a student, you could get a good opportunity like this

you just took some fruit, yogurt and left the house to get the bus

you were supposed to be in the building at 8am to start

but because it was your first day, you came early

other coworkers were also coming

you greeted them as they knew you were a greenhorn in work

you started to organize your stuff on the table, turn on the computer and open up the folders

“good morning, everyone”, a very beautiful lady came in

you remembered her from the interview day

she was very sweet

her name tag said kim kyeongmin

“oh, ms. y/n, welcome! everyone, this is your new coworker, please welcome her”

you felt smiles around you and smiled back, also thanking kyeongmin

kyeongmin went to her office, which was right in front of the big room where all employees, including you, had their computers and stuff

the place was nice, spacious

and there was also a coffee machine plus a candy machine

modern office’s stuff

“hey, my name is jane, nice to meet you”, said the woman sitting by the table beside you

“oh, hi, I’m y/n. it’s my pleasure.”

“so, if you need anything, you can just ask me”, she delivered a friendly smile, “I started here six months ago so I know there must be some questions”

you nodded, “of course, thank you”, showing gratitude

you spent the whole morning working and there was a lot to catch up on

your coworkers asked if you’d like to come for lunch but you honestly weren’t even hungry

when you were into something, you didn’t like to pause, so you’d only stop when you’re finished

not that it’s good, since you had to eat

but yeah

during the lunch break, when you finally finished what you were writing and took some sandwich from inside your bag to eat

someone entered the room

you immediately looked, cause your table was the first view when someone got through the door

it was a man and the first thing you noticed was his height

he was tall

a simple white shirt, two buttons opened

black pants

his hair was styled in a nice way too, no strand of hair out of place

you could tell he was a serious guy but not a boring one

“excuse me, where’s everyone?”, he asked

you touched your face just in case there was any bread bran on it

“oh, hm, they are lunching”

he looked at his watch

“I’m sorry I thought the lunch break was already over”

“it’s okay, how can I help you? is there anything you need to deliver to ms. kim?”

he stopped for a brief second and then opened a little smile

“oh no, no, I can come back later”

you nodded

he was almost leaving when you, not satisfied, extended the conversation introducing yourself

“I’m sorry for my manners, my name is y/n”

he looked at you

“you’re the new employee, right? nice to meet you, I’m namjoon”, he said

“yes, nice to meet you too”

you didn’t know how he got that information

probably your proactive beginner way of being said it all

maybe he didn’t work there since he didn’t even have a name tag

you shrugged and came back to your work once he left

not so long later everyone came back, one by one

your new friend (could you call her like that already tho?) jane brought you a cupcake as a welcoming gift

“omg thank you!”, it was cute with a funny character designed on top

“no problem”

you had a lot of things to work on

kyeongmin brought you some stuff on paper to transfer to the virtual folder

you were very concentrated cause, in your mind, mistakes shouldn’t happen on your first day

when the door opened, you couldn’t help but look

the guy from earlier came in again

“excuse me, is kyeongmin already here?”

“no, sir, she was but she had to solve a problem at the bank”, another co-worker answered

sir?

“I’ll have to go into her office, then”, he said to himself out loud

everyone but you nodded

when you noticed, you just followed the nodding session

by the glass wall you could see him inside the office very concentrated

“he came here during lunch, who’s him?”

“oh, you don’t know yet?”, another colleague questioned

“I thought he came to deliver something…”

“no, girl, he’s the owner of this”

“w-what?”

“ms. kim and him are partners in business, he’s the CEO, tho”

everything in your mind made sense

“seriously? I had no idea”

“it’s okay, you just started”

after almost thirty minutes, he was still there

by that hour, everyone was making coffee

“so, every afternoon we like to make coffee, and we always make one to ms. kim when she’s very busy”, jane explained the routine to you

“since she’s not here, we’re making one to him…?”, you asked

“yeah”, someone else answered, putting some cream on top of his cup

“and every day a different person does it”

you looked at them

“I get it”, you said, “I’ll bring him the coffee since I’m new here”

they giggled

you made his coffee exactly like yours since you couldn’t guess how he liked it

everything ready, you knocked at the door

he didn’t move his head but looked at the door opening

“hey, hm, sir, we thought you’d like some coffee”

omg are you going to be informal like this and then add ‘sir’ just to make it better???

“oh”, he relaxed and leaned on the chair more comfortably, “it came in the right moment”

you gave a simple smile

he reached to take the cup from your hands

“thank you… y/n. right?”

you were surprised

“exactly”

you were about the get out the room but

“y/n?”

“yes?”

“do you speak spanish?”

“what?”, you spitted that out without even thinking

cough

“I mean…”, you tried to clean up the mess

but he smiled and laughed a little

your boss l a u g h e d a little

“sorry, I caught you by surprise. it’s just that I have a meeting with a team from Spain in one week, and I am not that good in spanish, so”

“I actually… do… speak some spanish.”

“oh!”, he seemed excited, “I asked the others but they don’t. spanish is not an easy language, so…”

“but, if you prefer, I could find a professional translator and-”

“don’t get me wrong, I know it’s not your job to do this, but it would be better if someone from the company could go with me, since we’ll talk about market research analysis and those business administration stuff, which is your field, right?”

did he read your resume too? you thought only ms. kim hired you

of course he would read, he’s the ceo

so he knew you could speak spanish too, it was on your resume

that’s why he asked so directly

“yes, yes, it’s our field”

he agreed, now playing with a pen in his right hand

“now, if you excuse me…”

“of course”, he said and even stood up as you bowed

people were really respectful in this company, huh

he was kinda nice tho

you thought he’d be cocky cuz he’s the ceo

but nah he was nice

anyways it would be a very good opportunity to be the official translator

you’d meet new people

alright, time to practice spanish again

the whole week was ok

you didn’t meet namjoon again, only kyeongmin, until the other week, on wednesday

one day before the meeting he was meant to attend to, he asked kyeongmin to send you to his office

“y/n, namjoon is calling you at his office. you’re attending the event tomorrow, right?”, she was so nice to you

you wonder what namjoon and her were of each other

“yes”, you smiled

“great! you can finish your work here later, ok?”, she pointed to the computer with her head

“thank you”

“tell him he owes me one”, she said when you were already leaving

when you stepped at his office

it was like

a whole new world lol

minimalist but so… chic?

it was so clean you almost took off your shoes to not dirty the floor

there was a wall full of books

he could even live there if he wanted to because it was so cool

his taste was great for interior design, in case he was the one who picked the stuff himself

there was a name tag made of glass with “kim nam joon” on it

he looked so powerful sitting there

but in the moment he saw you, he stood up and bowed too

“excuse me”

“please”, his hand pointed to the chair in front of that beautiful wood table

ok you were so mesmerized by that interior design lol

you sat in front of him while he was printing something

then you saw he was actually making a copy of the paper he was about to give you

it had like two pages and it was full of notes, but very organized

he put some glasses on and, dude, in that moment

he reached a new level of handsome

“how are you?”

you were caught by surprise a little

this is the type of question everyone asks but at the same time they don’t in situations like this

mainly when there’s something more important to talk about

“I am fine... you?”

“looking forward to the meeting. I’ll ask my driver to pick you up at 5pm so we won’t be late”

you nodded

“this”, he gave you the paper, “contains the main points we’re going to discuss tomorrow. I also made some notes and… if you have some question, go ahead”

namjoon’s personality was friendly and you could tell that by the way he talked and welcomed you

that’s why you read that paper and made all the questions you wanted

and wrote down some other notes

you’d definitely spend the rest of the day studying

it was your field, but you didn’t want to disappoint

“do you have any other question?”, he asked

“yes. what’s your spanish level?”

he smiled because of the question

you were very straightforward

he was probably expecting another question about the points he wrote down

“well… I can introduce myself, speak some simple sentences, but I understand more than I speak, so…”

“ok”, you said, writing down

he seemed curious about what you wrote

“it’s just because I need to know what do I have to translate”

“don’t worry, you’ll know”

you frowned

“you’ll notice my lost expression”, he said

“ok, so, I think this is it…”

“see you tomorrow, then”

“thank you, mr. kim”

“you can call me namjoon”

you only knew him for – what – a week

he walked to a sort of furniture where there were clean and ironed clothes

proving he could really live there

you stood up and went to the door, going back to your work space

thankfully there weren’t a lot of things to do there

because, hello-oh, you were still working for the company in the reunion with namjoon

you were organizing all the papers you had to bring home, then you noticed one of the files namjoon gave weren’t there

there were so many on his table that maybe you forgot it there

so you came back

the door was slightly opened and you knocked

you really did

but he didn’t answer so maybe he wasn’t there

and you just had to find your file

so you got in and he was coming back from the bathroom

you froze

his white shirt, usually two buttons opened

was now fully unbuttoned

a great physical was showing

tanned

he must work hard on gym

you tried to look at his face at the moment you saw each other

but your eyes kept coming back to his chest

he was starting to button again when he saw you

“oh I-”, just shut up, y/n

namjoon turned his back

“I’m sorry”, he said, looking at you over his right shoulder

“I’m sorry I walked in, I knocked but you didn’t hear…”

“no, that’s okay”, he said in a friendly tone, it really sounded genuine

“I think I forgot my file here”

it was exactly where you left it

“that’s it, thank you”

walking fast was complicated cause the sound of your heels in the ground broke the silence in a disturbing way

“excuse me, y/n”, namjoon said and you turned to him again

he was fully covered now

phew

“yes?”

“can you help me choose a necktie?”

he lifted two of them

“hm… I’d say the burgundy one”

“I wanted exactly this one”, he smiled and lifted the chosen one, “thank you”

you nodded and walked through the door

namjoon stayed there, immobile

deep down he wanted to ask something else so you’d stay there for another minute

he didn’t know you for long, ofc

but ever since you guys met

the way you were so carefree when talking to him

he liked that

it wasn’t because of how you look

even though he found you very pretty

but because of how you guys had some kind of connection when you spent almost an hour chatting earlier

maybe your vision, your ideas

he found that attractive

next day, you worked the whole morning

but kyeongmin told you to go home earlier because of the appointment

you thanked her and went home

a while ago, you bought a nice dress and maybe the good opportunity to use it would be now

it gave that serious neat vibe plus made you feel comfortable

you also made your hair in a nice way and when everything was finished

not one minute after 5pm

the car was in front of your home

the back door opened

not by itself

someone opened it but you couldn’t see

it was a fancy car btw

you didn’t know much about cars but who needs to know

everyone can tell when it’s fancy

you firstly looked inside and namjoon was already sitting there

you quietly sat there and closed the door

“hey”, he said

“hey”, you answered back

the informality though lol

you watched so many videos in spanish your brain was almost colliding

“just in time”

“I came home earlier”, you were avoiding eye contact

but you felt his lovely smile on you

“¿estás lista?"

“already practicing, mr. kim?”, you tried to sound unconcerned

he started looking through the window

namjoon was always very elegant

the fact that he’s tall probably helped a lot

but it was all about his posture

the way he speaks

walks

dresses

and his personality itself

he was dressing very simply

a white shirt, black blazer and pants

hair perfectly done as expected

“we arrived”, the driver said

namjoon and you got out from different doors and joined the place side by side, through the large stairs

the room was full of people and for a moment you felt insecure

you studied, you knew what you were doing, so why feel like this?

namjoon noticed the way you were touching your hair and straightening your clothes

“you look great”, he said, looking at you, “don’t worry”

the first group you two met were korean speakers, the second one had a lot of english speakers

and finally two men and one woman approached you

you kinda felt it was the spanish team you studied for but when you were wondering

they said “hola”, so you knew it

namjoon introduced himself pretty well in spanish

his accent was also good, it didn’t sound weird or try hard

he introduced you as “señorita y/l/n”

it was unexpected even tho you didn’t know why

when people started referring to you, you felt like it was the right time to get into the conversation

so you explained you’d be translating some stuff for namjoon

they were okay, probably used to it in meetings like that

you were nervous at the start but they were nice

plussss you were doing your thing

talking about your field

about everything you studied

in the end you felt like it was a very good opportunity to introduce yourself in this business world

namjoon had to talk to another team and he left you alone for some minutes

you thought you would panic but the conversation was very pleasing

after a long time talking to them, namjoon begged leave to eat something with you

you felt his hand on your back, close to your shoulders, but he wasn’t touching you

you just felt the presence of it, like, floating over

“you left me alone”, you said

“come on, you were doing so well”

you didn’t know what to answer so just kept walking until the place where drinks and foods were

“I thought your spanish was good but now I know it’s perfectly fluent”

he wasn’t looking at you while drinking

you both were leaning against a wall

“don’t be so kind”

“don’t be so harsh on yourself”, he looked at you and raised his eyebrows making a cute expression

your lips created a shy smile

almost three hours there making new partnerships and discussing about business administration, marketing, finance, etc

you were about to leave

while he was on the phone, you waited in front of the place

on top of the stairs, holding your coat and purse

“so”, you heard his voice from behind you

you turned to him

and for a moment

you looked up to him, since he was taller

he’s taller than anybody

and he looked into your eyes

INTO IT

you felt that

but it was just for a moment so he continued

“my driver can’t come”

“really? why?”

“he wasn’t feeling good, so he needed to rush to a hospital”

“ah… do we need to take a cab? I can call one”

“actually”, his hands on the pockets and his body swinging in a childish way, “he left the car here and went in a cab”

“where are the keys?”

“in reception, I got it already”, he showed it

“hm can you… drive or…?”

he smiled and scratched the back of his neck

“to be honest, I’m not good when it comes to control cars”

you kinda wanted to laugh but you bit your lower lip

“you can laugh”, he said

so you let it out

“I really thought you had a driver just for the fanciness”

“I wish”

“well, give me them, I’ll drive”, you reached out for it

he didn’t even think twice before giving it to you

so you leaded the way

he followed you to the car

and he was about to open the back door

“oh-oh, not there”, you said, “you’re coming in the front”

“oh I’m sorry”

you know when you’re anxious for something

then the thing happens so you feel an inexplicable relief

and it’s like you could conquer the world now it passed

you were feeling exactly like this

although namjoon was your boss, he was so nice that you felt like there was no big barrier between you two

so you felt comfortable with him

you knew the age gap wasn’t that big because he was one of the most successful CEOs under 30

“¿a dónde vamos, senõrita?”

“your spanish is improving, huh?”

he laughed

“you’re a good teacher”

you felt kinda keyed up

quickly back to normal

“I’ll take you home and I’ll call a cab from there”

“oh no, you can take the car”

“what? no, no, I’m okay”

“turn left”, he said

“pardon?”

“my house. you have to turn left now”

“oh ok”

your face started to burn lol thank God it was dark inside the car

and he giggled by himself

namjoon’s house was quite far

the location was private btw

the good thing was that you both chatted a lot along the way

“here you go”, you said taking off the seat belt as if you were about to get out too

“are you staying?”, he asked

your eyes widened

“eh? I’ll leave the car with you”

“no I told you to go home with it”, he said

“I just don’t feel comfortable…”

“don’t get me wrong, if you want to stay over, there’s a room for you”

“excuse me?”

“that’s why I started with ‘don’t get me wrong’, maybe you’re tired to cross the city. a cab will be very expensive”

“ok, so I’ll take the car”

he nodded, agreeing

“tomorrow I’ll give it back to you”

“you could give me a ride, though”

you laughed

“am I your new driver now? it seems like I have a lot of new positions”

“I didn’t mean that way”, he was being serious now

maybe he thought you were being serious too

you didn’t see it as overwork at all

because it wasn’t

you would have an extra payment for going with him to that meeting

driving him wasn’t a job, it was a pleasure

“I’ll come. can you be ready at 7:30am?”

“uh early”

“that’s the hour we all go to work, sir”

“I’ll think about a change of the office hours, señorita”

“is señorita a thing now?”

he shrugged

“see you tomorrow?”

“at 7am”, you answered

namjoon was standing in front of his place when you arrived there

you really thought he would be late but wow

looks like he was trying to impress

he was a fun person to talk to even being quite sleepy at that hour

when you guys arrived, you left the keys at the reception for the driver

and went to your office

namjoon went for his and that was the last time you saw him that day

you kinda smiled sometimes during the day cause you remembered the moments you guys had

talking to him was so nice you forgot he was your boss

kyeongmin and some coworkers asked you how the meeting went

and you felt good talking about that because, professionally, it was a great moment for you

you felt exactly where you should be and it made you create new goals for your career

the next week came

you both only saw each other for quick moments

he smiled at you every time

another week came and another one too

it was a very busy moment for the company after the meeting

new partnerships, new responsibilities

until the day he called kyeongmin

you were at her office in the moment she received the call

“oh yeah she’s here… yeah, okay”, she turned off the phone

“it’s namjoon, he asked if you could go to his office”

“yes, if you let me…”

she opened a bright smile

“y/n, don’t worry about that, he’s the ceo. if he calls you’re the one to say yes or no, just let me know”

“well…”

“I’m his sister by the way, in case you have mistaken me for his wife, girlfriend or anything”

you didn’t know what to answer

“no I didn’t have any thoughts about it”, you smiled shyly

liarrrr lol

you thought she was his girlfriend once

but after some days and seeing how they were acting with each other, you knew they didn’t have any love relationship

knowing they’re siblings made sense

you went to namjoon’s office quite nervous

even at the first time, you weren’t nervous like this and now your stomach was writhing

you knocked at his door and he opened it quickly

“hi”

oh heeey he looked really cute

you greeted him back and got in once he asked you to

“so…”, you said

“I’m about to promote you”

he saw your eyes getting bigger in surprise and couldn’t help but smile

“as my new driver”

“oh how funny”, your voice was funny itself after the shock

“it’s the only way we can have nice talks, right?”, he sat on his chair

“is it?”

ok where did your boldness come from

his expression looked like he was asking the same question

“ok, so, can you tell me why did you call me here?”

“just because” – he wanted to see you, but he didn’t finish the phrase that way – “the Spain partners really liked you”

“oh!”, the surprise was genuine

“you were great, they praised you a lot and asked me if you could be the official in-between person in our business with them”

you clearly didn’t have words to express the surprise

“I feel honoured”

“you should. so, is it a yes?”

“of course!”, you were about to say something else but a huge noise echoed

namjoon was getting a pen to write something but

SOMEHOW

he dropped the whole pen holder

very clumsy of him and it wasn’t the first time you noticed

you both immediately started to pick up the pens

that cliché thing happened, not gonna lie

your hands touched when you tried to pick up the same pen as him

coming back to your seats you tried to lighten the atmosphere

“do you break a lot of things or-?”

he laughed

“at this point I think being clumsy is already a personality thing I was born with”

“deep”, you said, which made him keep the smile

“ok, you’ll accept the offer, then?”

“which one?”

he frowned

“oh, the Spain team one, right? definitely”

“did I make another one…?”

you looked at his eyes

they said a lot, btw

and you found that one of the most attractive features of him

“I just thought you wanted to”

by his face he couldn’t believe you noticed

you were quite an observant and, come on, you were into him too

not to the point your body talk expressed it, because you were very cautious about love interest in the workplace

he crossed his fingers, hands on the table

“look, now that you noticed, I can’t help but say…”

“not that you were trying to hide at all, right, sir?”

the way you always had answers left him speechless

“I find you interesting”, he said, lowering his voice, “and I know work is not the best place for it”

“still you find a way to see me”

“y/n…”

“be honest. who are we lying to?”

namjoon stood up

wandering around the room, maybe trying not to make eye contact

“look, it never happened before”

you stood up too, listening

“I really like the way we connect. and y e s, I know it sounds deep but it’s not that deep, we bond well”

you agreed

“so if you want, we can meet again. somewhere else. maybe on a library, a café, idk”

you smiled at him

“yes, let’s do this”

“so it’s mutual”

“you’re my boss, I couldn’t let it show- oh, your collar”, you couldn’t concentrate looking at his messy collar

you just went closer to straighten it

“sorry, it was messy”

he watched you do that

now you were close

and you felt his eyes on you

you wanted to look back but the reaction would be uncertain

cause you’d probably do exactly what you did

your hand rose to his neck and namjoon automatically leaned down even closer

your lips touch and it was so quickly you didn’t even notice the exact moment

so you both did it again

as if the first kiss was just an attempt

when it felt like you did the right thing and wanted it again, that was when you just let it happen

namjoon’s kiss handn’t rush

anyone could get in but he didn’t care

you two were into the moment

your minds went blank and just the feelings of the kiss took control

his hand caressed your hair and put one lock behind your ear

so his fingers could softly touch your face

you touched his shoulders and the back of his hair

and you knew he liked it because of the smile between the kiss

he tightened his grip as your hand caressed his neck

when you finally stopped, eyes still closed and foreheads touching

the silence took over for a minute, until you were the first to cut it

“I think I have to go now…”

his face was saying please, stay for a while

“I’ll wait until we meet”

you smiled at him

“me too”

[realmadridlocavictoriaa]

,,I have nothing left to win, but I want to keep winning." - Nacho Fernandez’s exclusive interview for Summum magazine

Precaved and sincere, a footballer that has spent more time of his life inside than outside of Real Madrid. He perfectly knows that there is life beyond the pitch but does not conceive of a future without being linked to it. 

Nacho Fernández (Madrid, 18th of January 1990) says more with his eyes than with words. Reserved and somehow shy, the discretion takes on from his innate character and discipline is his great ally since always. 

Proud and extremely polite, the defensor of Real Madrid doesn’t like to describe himself. His life revolves around football, but he knows the need to disconect. He naturally coexists with the pressure and the level of exigency of playing in the elite of football world and although achieve it has not been easy, to maintain it has been even harder. ,,You maintain the level with constancy and hard work. You can’t relax for a single minute, because in this team the competition is very large."

It’s Wednesday and we meet with him at one of the most exclusive hotels in the capital. He arrives just to meet with us, because during the realization of this interview and photo session he is recovering from a left knee injury, that caused him a long absence on the pitch. He hasn’t lost his enthusiasm or desire, although he admits that the defeat is the worst thing that can happen to any player and the biggest obstacle to overcome in his career.

Calm and familiar, Nacho, as he is known, arrived to the club of his life at the end of 2000 and at the age of 29 he has spent more than less of his life in Real Madrid and it takes roots. He is fulfilling what was always his dream since childhood, childhood in which he also learned to live with diabetes. He confesses that Real Madrid has given him the best moments of his life and that as a soccer player he is “lucky to have time to be with his 3 children.” He also attributes the luck of the part of his success of having been at the right time and in the right place. In his father he finds the best advice and the most painful criticism. And he distributes his cares between the fear of the health of his children and the anxiety about losing a match.

Journalist: Let’s start at the beginning, what has changed from the boy, who started playing at the age of 10 to the Nacho we see today? 

Nacho: I came to Real Madrid at the age of 10, I’ve been in Madrid all my life.  The Nacho of that time and the Nacho of today hasn’t changed at all, since I was a child I’ve always been a person, that my parents have taught me to be. I’ve always tried to maintain the education that they’ve given me, I’m a good person before I’m a footballer and I think that’s important in our time. 

J: Two years later, at the age of 12, you are diagnosed with diabetes, what assumed this diagnosis? 

N: It was a hard blow, I was a child and they told me that I would never play football again. I remember that I went to the hospital to make a sugar test, at that time I didn't know what it was and I just thought that the next day I had to go to the tournament. I spent the horrbile weekend in the hospital until my endocrine Dr. Ramirez arrived and told me that football was the best thing I could do for this disease and without a doubt, it has been the best cure. 

J: How you connect the football and the diabetes? How those two things can coexist?

N: Diabetes is a desease with which you have to live day by day forever, you have to be constatnt, patient and you have to take care of yourself at all times. Food is a fundamental thing and sport is very importnat to help regulate sugar levels. At the beginnin it is all more strict, but after all those years being diabetic I remember it very well, I know what I can eat and what I can’t and occasionally I give myself a whim when I have low sugar.

J: How you take care of yourself? 

N: I have a normal diet, a diet that should be used by anyone, a healthy diet low in calories and sugars. Nothing weird or unusual.

J: In 2011 came your debut with the first team and with Mourinho as a coach, how do you remember your first match?

N: Those were unforgettable moments, I had been preparing to fulfill that dream all my life. For the first few days I wasn’t really aware of the magnitude. Once you reach the first team, the difficult thing is not to debut, but to stay in it and make your career long. These were the moments that I will never forget, one of the most important of my career.

J: Is some other day that you keep in mind with special affection? 

N: Many. I played the final of Copa del Rey with my brother, also I had the opportunity to play against him. The day we won the Champions League and it coincided with the birth of my son. I’ve had many moments of happinesss, which I’ve been able to live thanks to the luck of having been at Real Madrid.” 

J: Now when you started talking about your family, what was it like to grow up in the family of football lovers?

N: It’s complicated and not easy to reach the first league and even more so that two brothers do it, it’s something that we still discuss with my parents and we talk about the luck that we’ve had to have reached the top in our passion. We’ve always taken everything with calm and a kind of normality, we’ve been gradually climbing next categories and when the time has come we’ve been prepared. I think that is what makes us still being at that level and enjoying what we really love.” 

J: At home dou you talk about anything other than football?

N: Me with my brother no (laughs). My family is very futbolera. We all love football, even my grandmother. I think it’s normal. With my wife I still haven’t achieved it, she’s not so into it, but eventually she ends up liking it a little. 

J: You also have a football academy in your lifelong school, do you consider yourself true to your roots?”

N: I’m happy in Alcalá de Henares. I had the opportunity to leave and at some point we thought about moving, but thinking about it, we have the whole family and all the friends here. So in the end we decided that we will be going to Madrid and coming back equally. As we are comfortable and calm, we have decided to stay.

J: The philosophy of the school is to transmit to the students the same values with which you and your brother came to the elite: effort, sacrifice and respect, what advice do you give to children who come to your academy?

N: I think that the values as sacrifice and effort are obligatory in general, in life, not only in football. I say children that they come here to enjoy this work, I tell them not to be scary or overwhelmed by the future for now and to enjoy football, because this is what they really love; and later in time, everything will come.

J: And talking about children, would you like any of your 3 children to follow your steps and become a footballer?

N: When you are a father it’s something that logically you start thinking about and you say: I hope my son one day can play in Real Madrid, that was the biggest dream of my life. But I won’t be the one who chooses their dreams. When they will grow up, they will set their goals and I will be there always to support them. As a footballer, of course I would love one of them to reach this level in football, but I want them to do what makes them happy.

J: How do you combine football and fatherhood?

N: As footballers we lose most time during the travels, but in the day to day we train in the morning and for the noons I have this luck to spend practically all my time with my children. It’s true that most weekends we’re very busy, but I think that in general as a footballer you have a good life and we can always find time to be with our beloved ones. I’m very happy with the life I have and knowing that I will spend the afternoon with my children is the best thing that can happen to me."

J: Do you like when they come to stadium and support you?

N: Yes, I really like to know that my family is at the stadium, supporting me. Although they don’t go as much as they would like to. But Nachito and Alejandra go with crazy joy to the stadium, so I just love it.

J: Do you care what the media say about you, do you read the press?

N: Before I read it more, I watched more football, I read everything… But once I came to the first team, I realized I stopped doing it. Sometimes you need to disconnect, leave work and devote more time to other things. When you are not in your best moment it’s better not to continue reading, because it’s not easy, so I try to avoid it although today with social networks it is inevitable not to read things.

J: How do can you reach the elite of football? 

N: It’s difficult, because you have to be very constant in your work. The most important is the work we do every day and all the sacrifice that it entails. When you fight for something you want to achieve, if you don’t fight for it day by day it’s impossible to reach it. But I also think that like in everything in life, you have to have luck. You have to be in the right place and at the right time. Many things have to come together so that everything goes perfect and that this day of your debut will be perfect, because the competition is huge and you have to be prepared for that.

J: How is it to play football in the best team in the world?

N: It’s difficult, because it’s a very demanding club. Everyday it wants more, more things are requested, in each training, in each game…But at the same time it’s beautiful. I’m lucky that I can enjoy what I like, which is to play football and what’s more to do it in the club of my life. When I was a child I’ve always dreamt of playing in Real Madrid, but I’ve never imagined I could lived all the things I can tell today. I am very grateful.

J: Is it difficult to maintain such level of requirements?

N: ,,This level you can maintain with constancy and hard work. You can’t relax for a single minute, because in this team the competiton is very big. If you do your job well and you’re consistant in it in the end you reap the rewards.

J: As a footballer of Real Madrid you’re always under the pressure, how do you manage it? 

N: It’s not easy, you go through good times, but also through other bad times and it’s during those latter moments when you have to be prepared to receive criticsim and reprimends. In those moments in your head the doubts begin and that is when you have to be really strong mentally. Being in Real Madrid is almost even more important to be mentally prepared than physically. Whren you lose it’s not so easy and you have to be always ready for it. In the world of sport in general there’s a little memory, that’s why I think that if you don’t work hard every day and you don’t fight, it’s complicated.

J: What do you think of being considered as one of the most versatile soccer players in history?

N: It’s very important for me. For the coach it’s essential to have players who can play at different positions. I feel better playing as a central, because I think that this is my position, but to be honest, playing football makes me happy and when I do it, the position is less important. 

J: Do you count your goales? 

N: Yes, I’ve scored 9 with the first team. I’m very happy with it, I think that for a defender it’s quite good. The one scored with National Team I keep in mind as one of the best memories.

J: A reference in the locker room?

N: Sergio Ramos, without any doubt. Maybe because of that versality we were talking about. He knows that he always has been my reference, we’ve always get on very well and we have a very good contact. 

J: And a friend?

N: The truth is that I get along very well with everyone, but if I have to say with someone…maybe it’s with Carvajal, I’ve been playing with him for many years. Also with Sergio, with Lucas, with Isco…In our team we’re lucky that there’s a good relation with everyone, but in the end with the Spaniards we stick together more.

J: You’re finishing a degree at INEF, being a footballer you also have time for studying?

N: Yeah, I have only 3 subjects left. Of course there’s time, in my case now with my children maybe there’s a little less time. But before, when I went to college I trained in the morning and later I still had all noon to go to class. If someone doesn’t study, it’s not because of time. 

J: What would you do if you weren’t a footballer?

N: Few days ago we were talking about it with my wife. I don’t know what exactly, but surely something related to sports. Maybe it’d be a coach, a physical trainer…I’d be in the football world, that’s for sure, it’s something that was obvious for me since I was a child. 

J: How is Nacho off the field?

N: I’m a very calm person. The truth is that off the field all my hobbies are related to sports. I really like go jogging, cycling and ultimately, everything that would make me sweat. When we have days off I take the opportunity to do my crazy things, sport adrenaline is something that I love.

J: Define yourself with 3 adjectives

N: Handsome, tall…(laughs and jokes). I really don’t like to define myself, I’m a normal person, I like being with my people, I’m very calm. When I have to be concentrated I think about things that make me focused and relaxed.

J: Are you narcissistic?

N: Yes, I think that like everyone of us. I like to look good, to feel well-groomed. I’m narcissistic, but within normal. 

J: Your image is importnt for you?

N: Yes, of couse it’s important for me. In my bag, in addition to my insulin kit, perfume and hair gel are never lacking.

J: What’s the best advice you’ve been given”

N: Surely it gave me my father. He told me to enjoy every training and to enjoy playing football. 

J: Is he your best advisor then?

N: Whenever I play a game the first one I call is him. When I finish a game I know if I know mydelf if I played well or badly, but my father's words are always the ones I like the most or the ones that can hurt me the most. He has never been very demanding with me, but I like him to tell me things, sincerely. 

J: What worries you? What scares you?

N: I’m lucky to have a very happy life, but what worries me is that my children one day could fall ill and also in football life losing a game. I have very bad moments when we lose. If when you win the level of adrenaline makes it difficult to fall asleep, when you lose it’s even more complicated.

J: What has been your greatest achievement? 

N: The most beautiful thing that could have happened to me in my professional life is to live these years at Real Madrid. We’ve won many titles, so I prefer to stay with this stage, I wouldn’t be able to choose one moment. 

J: So we let you choose several moments then…

N: Every title always have something that makes them special and especially when you win them with Real Madrid. If I could choose several moments, I’d tell you about the goal I scored with Spain NT, it was my first goal in the World Cup and with my national team. Also every night of finals of Champions League, we’ve won 4 in last 5 years. 

J: Is there something left to win for you?

N: At club level nothing, although with National Team I still feel that there’s few things left. I have nothing more to win, but I want to keep winning.

J: What has been the most difficult part of your career so far?

N: The injuries, without any doubt. This one that I have now and the one I had last year, those are two serious injuries that made me out of the field for quite a long time and I think that no athlete likes to be stopped by injury and even less to me. As soon as I get injured I am already crazy to return as soon as possible.

J: What makes you happy?

N: My family, that they are happy and healthy. And of course also when my club plays well.

J: What’s the biggest luxury whim you could buy?

N: I’m not a person who wastes a lot of money, but I have all the things I want. I'm lucky to have a good house, a good car... without being overly luxurious, but right now I don't need anything else.

J: If you could grant yourself a wish…

N: On a sports level… to score a hat-trick. 

J: How do you see the future?

N: I like to live the present. If you’re able to manage all the thing you do well everyday at the same time you prepare your future. I’m always optimistic, I see the future well, becase my is very good. 

J: Where do you see yourself in the not so distant future?

N: Surely working at Real Madrid. This club is my home, it’s where I feel very good and I hope to stay connected to it when I leave my sports career.

J: You’ve never thought about leaving?

N: Many summers I've been tempted to leave. In the end of season the transfer windows arrive and although you don’t want offers they reach you, there was a summer that I had more doubts because I didn’t play as much as I wanted, but finally I decided to stay and the best Nacho appeared. The Nacho that played the most amount of games and was the best. It was a very important decision in my career, because I was able to demonstrate how far I could go and that decision was undoubtedly one of the best I have made in my career.

J: What’s the secret of your success? 

N: The constancy. Work day by day and don’t give up. You always have to be prepared for when the opportunity comes.

The original interview in spanish you can find here.