#the edit added another ten minutes

[silvermuffins]

Seward Summary!

This is very late, I know, but it's a long one and it's taken me hours to sit still long enough to get through it and even now I've only finished Seward's part (Mina has a part after I have yet to read, myself). There is a break point partway through today's entry, to help take it in parts.

WARNINGS: violence toward a child, bloody murder, decapitation

To be absolutely clear: this entry occurs in two chunks - one dictated in the morning, describing the events of the night of the 28th, and one dictated in the evening, describing the events of the afternoon of the 29th. Let's begin.

Quincey and Arthur came over in the late evening. Van Helsing spoke primarily to Arthur, who alongside Quincey was very confused as to what is going on but not sure of anything. Van Helsing takes the opportunity to poke at Seward for having retracted his willingness to believe.

Van Helsing asks Arthur and Quincey, but primarily Arthur, to promise to let him do as he sees fit. He acknowledges it will be difficult, so he wants them to promise before knowing what he plans to do, so that after they can be angry with him but not blame themselves.

Quincey attests to Van Helsing's character. Arthur still has some reservations, but says he'll allow anything Van Helsing means to do as long as it doesn't violate his ideals or morals. They come to an agreement on this basis.

Van Helsing proceeds to explain his plan for the evening, with Arthur getting more and more upset the entire time. Van Helsing wants to sneak into the graveyard, break into Lucy's tomb, and open her coffin.

Here Arthur stops him, and Van Helsing says they have to do this or Lucy will be among the damned. He explains that she is not dead, but neither is she alive: she is undead. He asks if he may cut off her head.

Arthur is, understandably, extremely upset at the thought. He demands to know if either he or Lucy ever wronged Van Helsing, that he'd suggest such a thing. He won't allow it, he has a duty to Lucy.

Van Helsing says he, too, has a duty to Lucy, and to Arthur and to God. Right now he asks only that Arthur come along, and see for himself. Van Helsing will make the same request later, and will do what he must, and afterward he'll submit to whatever judgement Arthur has over it.

Van Helsing also explains that he's had a long life of trying to help people, and he's had to do many difficult and unpleasant things. This will be worst of all, because he spent so much time and effort trying to save Lucy. He admits to giving her blood, too. Even now, he is trying his best to help her.

Arthur agrees to at least watch and listen, see what there is to see at the graveyard.

They arrive just before midnight and enter the tomb. Van Helsing has Seward confirm that Lucy's body was in the coffin two days prior. Van Helsing opens it, revealing that she is not there.

Quincey questions just once if Van Helsing did this. Van Helsing swears he did not, and describes the events of the last few nights. That he and Seward had come, found the coffin empty, spotted the white figure, and found a child thankfully unharmed among the graves, and that the next day they'd returned and her body was there.

He also reveals that, on the night before, he'd put garlic and other anti-vampire things around the tomb door and sat watch all night, ensuring she didn't leave. Earlier, he took the garlic and other things away, because the undead can move at sundown, so now she's gone.

He directs them to all wait, hidden, outside. They do so, accepting the explanations given to various extents - Arthur struggling the most, and Quincey actually quite accepting.

Van Helsing, meanwhile, crumbles up a thin wafer into some kind of putty, works it in, and rolls it into strips that he stuffs in around the tomb of the door.

Seward asks what that's about, and Van Helsing explains that he's sealing the tomb so that the undead can't enter. The wafer is a communion wafer, the Host, he brought from Amsterdam, and he has an Indulgence. This is a big enough deal that the three men stop objecting and go to hide.

After some time, Van Helsing points out a white figure holding a dark shape. In a shaft of moonlight they see it's a woman, bent over a child, who gives a sharp but quiet little cry in their sleep.

The woman gets closer, and they're able to recognize her as Lucy....but changed. She now looks cruel and cold and has fresh blood staining her mouth. The four men stand between her and the tomb.

Seward finds his love for her turning into hate and revulsion while Arthur nearly breaks down. She tosses the child aside, smiling.

She calls to Arthur to come to her, and something about her voice rings strangely in their minds. Arthur opens his arms as if under a spell, and Lucy leaps for him. Van Helsing blocks her, holding up his little crucifix.

She recoils, and tries to flee to her tomb, but cannot. For a time she's trapped between the crucifix and the Host, and her anger and hate are stirring, palpable, and chilling.

Van Helsing asks Arthur if he may proceed with his work. Arthur assents, and is very much beginning to have a meltdown. Quincey and Seward move to comfort him.

Van Helsing removes some of the putty, allowing Lucy to pass through an impossibly small space into the tomb. Once she is inside, he replaces the putty to seal it up again.

After, Van Helsing picks up the injured child, and says they can't do more until the following day. They'll come after a funeral, in the afternoon. He also tells Arthur he's been through the worst of it, but very soon this will all be behind him. Van Helsing won't ask him to forgive him until then.

They leave the child, who isn't seriously harmed, where they'll be found. Arthur and Quincey go back with Seward, and all drop to sleep exhausted.

We take a small break here, because it occurred to me while writing this that these summaries may also be helpful for people who have limited ability to get through lots and lots of text. This is long, but the entry itself is a lot longer - I am cutting out a lot of wonderful, verbose description. Anyway!

We now reach the second part of the entry, which describes events that actually happened today (the 29th).

As agreed, the four men go to the graveyard. They all instinctively wear black. Van Helsing brought a different bag, this one distinctively long and rather heavy.

They enter the tomb, and Van Helsing sets up candles and opens the coffin. Lucy is in it, devilishly beautiful but hatefully twisted from the sweet version of her they knew.

Van Helsing lays out his tools: solder, a soldeirng iron, a gas lamp, surgical knives, a long and thick wooden stake (charred and sharpened at one end), and a hefty hammer.

Then, Van Helsing takes the time to explain what the undead are and do. They can't die, but instead feed and multiply by feeding. All those who fall victim to the undead become undead themselves. This is why he stopped Arthur from kissing her on her deathbed.

Lucy hasn't been undead very long, so her victims haven't become undead yet. If allowed to continue on, they'll fall more under her power, keep coming to her, and become undead. If they kill her for real, though, then the children will heal and be completely fine, none the wiser.

Furthermore, if they kill her for real, Lucy's own soul will be free to go to heaven, instead of being trapped on earth doing evil.

Van Helsing invites Arthur to take the task of killing her, since as her lover he has the best claim to the act of salvation. Arthur agrees.

His job will be to use the hammer to drive the stake through her chest, while Van Helsing reads a prayer for the dead from a holy book, and Seward and Quincey follow the prayer.

They set to the work. Lucy writhes and screams, but Arthur doesn't falter.

Eventually the body lies still, and Arthur reels back. They go to tend him immediately. Eventually they look at the coffin, and see that Lucy is Lucy again. She looks as they knew her in life, beautiful in a sweet way and showing the strain of her final days. At peace.

Van Helsing asks Arthur if he is forgiven. Arthur thanks him for giving him and Lucy peace. He cries into Van Helsing's chest for a little while.

Van Helsing allows Arthur to kiss Lucy now, and he does so.

Seward and Van Helsing send Arthur and Quincey out, while they saw off the long shaft of the stake, cut off Lucy's head, and fill her mouth with garlic. They gather the tools and close up the tomb. Arthur gets the key.

There's much relief in the aftermath, but Van Helsing has more to say. Their first and most harrowing task is over, but they still need to find and kill the one who did this to Lucy. He asks the three men, who have learned to believe, to join him in doing so. It will be difficult, dangerous, and painful.

They all promise to join him, and he calls for a meeting in two days. Then, he'll bring two people the rest of them don't know yet, and he'll lay out everything they know. He asks Seward to come to his hotel tonight to help him, and then he'll go to Amsterdam tonight and then return again. He'll have a lot to say at their meeting, but then they can begin their hunt.

When Seward and Van Helsing get to the hotel, there is a telegram from one Mina Harker, saying Jonathan is at Whitby and she's coming with important news, now.

Van Helsing cannot stay, so he sends Seward to meet her and take her to his home, and sends a wire to Mina so she'll be aware.

Van Helsing tells Seward that Mina kept a diary in Whitby, and her husband kept one abroad. He gives Seward typewritten copies of both, and tells him to read and study them well, and add to them in any way he can, because they'll help their efforts greatly. There is much of importance in the papers, and they might make or break the quest.

Seward goes to meet Mina at the station. She recognizes him, first, and says she was able to do so by Lucy's description. Seward gets her luggage, including a typewriter. Seward sends word for his housekeeper to prepare rooms for Mina.

They get back to the asylum, and Mina asks to come to Seward's study shortly because she has much to say. Seward has spent all the time in between then and now keeping his diary, and has yet to read the papers Van Helsing gave him. Here Mina is now, and he assumes she knows little to nothing of what is going on and that he shouldn't frighten her.

It ends just like that, and there's still more in the entry to read. I still need to read it. This part is from Mina's perspective, though. I'll summarize that too, or any other entries, if asked, but for now here we are.

I have moved on to reading and discovered there is a third portion of Seward's diary, after Mina's section. So, this is an edit, to add more.

Seward got very absorbed in Jonathan and Mina's diaries, and since Mina wasn't ready when dinner was called he delayed the meal by an hour.

Mina comes to him with the look of someone who has been crying. Seward is afraid he has distressed her, but she says it's more that by listening to his diary as he'd spoken it, she felt his every emotion very deeply. She doesn't think his voice and heart should be heard in that manner again, so she typed out his diary.

She only had the diary through September 7th, but she's sure it has much more to the story of what's been happening than hers and Jonathan's alone. Therefore, it has to be added to the papers they share among the group for the best chance of killing the monster.

She insists there should be no secrets, and they'll be stronger for sharing information. She and Jonathan have been working ever since they met Van Helsing, and Jonathan is getting more information in Whitby. He'll be bringing it tomorrow.

Seward realizes she'll do as she will, and won't be satisfied until she learns the entire truth of Lucy's death. So, they'll break for dinner and stay strong, and after that Mina can have the rest of the diary, and he'll answer any questions she has.

Okay NOW we are finished with Seward for the day. After that bit, there's another section of Mina's diary, and then we hear from Jonathan, and I still have to read those parts but I checked and there isn't more Seward after. This, was a lot,

[byoldervine]

Motivation For Writing

Getting Off Your Butt:

1. Aestheticise it. Let the light in through the curtains, turn on your fairy lights, lay a blanket over your lap, light some candles, whatever you need to do to feel like a writer. The right vibes can go a long way

2. Picture that one scene. There’s almost always a moment you’re super excited about that basically inspired the whole book. Picture it, play it out in your head in full cinematic fanfare, gush to yourself about how cool it is and how everyone will love it, picture a future fanbase going nuts for it. You might get excited enough to go back to writing

3. Set a word count goal. During NaNoWriMo this year I think I wrote more than I ever have in one go. The thing that kept me coming back was the desire to not fall behind. I ended up with ~45K words after some complications irl caused me to drop off in the final few days, and that’s all just because I was adding up the 1667 a day word count goal and realising where I needed to be at to keep up. I definitely can’t stay as rigid as I did with 1667 words every single day, but seeing that you’re only a few hundred words off of a goal is super motivating - just be sure to set realistic, easy to achieve parameters for just general use, like 1000-2000 words per week. I know 200 words per day is a popular one for people trying to establish a writing routine that can’t dedicate forever to the craft

Maintaining Motivation:

1. Writing sprints. Writing sprints are a godsend for me, I like to set myself up in the living room with Abbie Emmons’ writing sprint video on. The video lasts two hours and is broken up into two parts; 25 minutes to write and 5 minutes for breaks between writing, so four 30 minute sprints overall. Having the timer and countdown with peaceful music and an aesthetic background is both relaxing and encouraging, as well as giving me a specific time for how much longer I have to push through. It’s easier for me to say “Okay, only ten more minutes, then you can take a break” then it is to say “Just keep going, we’re not stopping until I say so” which is too arbitrary for my brain to accept

2. Give yourself a choice. If you’re struggling to keep your focus, come up with a finish line and tell yourself you don’t have to do any more work once you’ve reached that point. Finish the paragraph, go for another five or ten minutes, keep it up until your next scheduled break. Whatever sounds realistic and doable without being overwhelming. And once you’ve met this goal, ask yourself if you still want to stop. With any luck, you’ll have gotten back into the zone and will choose to keep going. Maybe you’ll want to take a quick break but you’ll come back later on. And maybe you’ll decide that now actually is a good stopping point. Just remember that, if you do still want to stop, don’t force yourself to keep going. You can’t strike deals with yourself if you know you won’t keep your word and all you’ll end up doing is burning yourself out, which will lead to even less writing getting done

3. Try a new angle. If you can’t be bothered to write anymore, is there anything else you can do for your book? Plotting, editing, worldbuilding, character sheets, one-shots all that sort of thing can still be productive for your book while still being different enough to give your brain a slight respite. It also means less work in that particular area later on

Afterwards:

1. Organise. Clean up your workspace and put everything away so it’s nice and neat for when you come back to it. Or if you don’t need to pack things out the way, set it up in an aesthetically pleasing way so it will tempt you back next time. Let it give you the writer vibe

2. Take care of yourself. Get a drink, have a snack, walk about, stretch your limbs, take a breath, cuddle your pet. Something that gets you away from straining your eyes looking at text for a bit. This is also a good time to reward yourself if positive reinforcement is something you use on yourself. If you always feel shitty after your writing sessions, you won’t want to go back to it

3. Positive reflection. Make sure to tell yourself you did good, even if you didn’t get as much done as you would’ve liked or it isn’t up to a standard of quality you’re aiming for. That can all be fixed later on, and you’re infinitely better off than you would’ve been if you didn’t do it. Be proud of yourself. Tell yourself you’re proud of your hard work and your dedication and your effort. Remind yourself that this is a fun thing you like to do. Marvel over how insane it is that you’ve gotten this far - not many people do - and that you’ve got all this tangible work to prove you’ve accomplished something so many people wish they could pull off. If this isn’t fun overall, there’s no point

[007reid]

coffee caramels. spencer reid

this is my submission for the cm meet cute (or not) challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins ! i did VERY loose research on the stuff spencer sprouts off on because i am not our boy genius so sorry if there are any inaccuracies ':( this is my first time writing for spencer but i literally love it so much and i'd love to write more so plz flood my inbox with requests for him plzzz 😭

pairing: fem!reader x spencer reid

prompt: character sits next to a stranger in the theater, but the two end up bonding when there's a technical glitch.

warnings: slightly grumpy!reader and sunshine!spencer my fav trope <333 confident reader, reader makes the first move, spencer being a bbg and blushing a lot ;)) all the good stuff

word count: 2.7k

you arrived at the theater ten minutes early, bee-lined to the popcorn section and asked for extra butter. you loaded your oily popcorn up with coffee caramels and chocolate-covered coffee beans and bought a large coke. you walked in the theater, confident and fully armed with enough caffeine to hopefully keep you awake during the entire thing. you have tape in your bag to peel your eyes open just in case things go south, but you're confident enough to believe that it won't.

because it can't.

"aelita," your professor had said on friday, "is a russian phenomenon, and it is one of my top favorite films. considering how you are all in a russian literature class, i can make the safe assumption that you are all interested in russian culture."

now, not only were you in a russian literature class as an elective like two-thirds of your class, you were also a russian literature and poetry major. how you ended with that major baffles you and there hasn't been a day where you wanted to choose another major, but there hasn't been a day where you weren't depressed about your poor decision-making either. it's a battle you fight every day.

"aelita was first screened in 1924, and this year, next week, there will be a worldwide re-screening of the film in its originality, no edits, completely authentic, except with added subtitles for those who need it, of course," this was when your professor got very stern. "i want all of you to go and watch it. if you don't want to, fine, but there will be an assessment grade on this movie. this is not optional. i believe that the content of this movie is very true to our..."

at that point you had stopped listening, because you knew what your professor wanted you to do, and you dreaded doing it.

two hours, silent, black and white, russian film with subtitles. and you have to hang onto the movie's every word.

not your ideal saturday night plans, but for your academic career, you were willing to take that leap; looking like a sore loser at the empty theater with black framed glasses on instead of getting fucked up in someone's bathtub. it's fine. the partying was all up to the business majors anyway.

when you walked into the theater, it was, understandably, vacant, save for a couple men and women with graying hair or bald scalps and bad backs. you were clearly not the target audience. none of them had snacks on them either, and you felt awkward being the one responsible for the strong aroma of butter and coffee that stuffed the place the moment you walked in. a gentleman coughed in his hanker-chief and flared his nostrils. you were intimidated already.

you tracked down your seat and decided to not let any of it distract you. you needed a good grade on this assessment. you had already bombed your previous test on the imperial era; you don't need another bad grade stacked on top of it. you're acing this test, no matter what, and you're going to absorb this movie so well that it might as well be your favorite.

as you waited for the film to start, you munched on several of the coffee caramels, the caffeine slow to kick in. you shrugged it off. there's a whole bucket of sugar to fuel you through the film.

in midst of biting into a shelf of a chocolate-covered-coffee-bean, you heard a light thud and a hiss, and the quiet muttering of "i'm good, ow." an old man by the stairs called out;

"you alright, son?"

"yes sir," the man said. despite being alright, he was limping to his seat, and you watched him attentively, for there wasn't much else for you to observe. he limped closer and closer to you by row, ticket in his hand and checking the letters on the rows. he stopped at your row, and then walked crookedly and settled down in the seat right next to you.

you chewed on your popcorn as you directed your attention somewhere else, your determination slightly deflated. the film was late into starting, but you were still going strong.

"oh wow," you heard the man mumbled next to you, and looked over to see what he was talking about, nosy. but he was looking at you.

"what?" you said indignantly, immediately dropping the oily popcorn in your hand and wiping at your mouth, feeling oddly self-conscious. but mostly irritated. you'd say you hid your whiplash pretty well when you saw how pretty the man was when you looked over at him. you were so smooth with it. "chocolate on my face?"

"what? oh, no," the man breathed out a small laugh. he's got a soft, shy voice that got your insides feeling like broken tomato bits.

"then what?" you demanded, but not too authoritatively because you didn't want to chase him away. you kept it cool and in control. totally. it was hard to find eye candy in quantico, and the last place you would expect to find someone so pretty is in the theater for a fucking silent film.

even though it was dark, you could still catch the bright blush that crept up the man's neck, but it might be because he felt hot under all those layers. seriously, he was dressed like your grandpa, sweater vest, tie, collared shirt and all, but it was tied together in some kind of way that made it work, and it was the way the man carried himself that made him look youthful in all those ancient clothing.

"nothing," he ducked his head away, "i was just talking out loud."

you didn't have to be sherlock holmes to know that he was lying. "you liar," you accused, wiping your hand even more aggressively over your face. "i do have something on my face, don't i? just tell me if i do!"

"you don't have anything on your face!" he said, an indecisive and uncracked smile playing on his lips. you grumbled and turned back to look at the screen, still waiting for the film to start, popping candy in your mouth. in was silent for a merciful while, until the man said, "did you know that dmitri shostakovich conducted the music for this film and during its first showings in leningrad since the film was silent he came personally and played the piano whenever the soundtrack would be playing?"

you hummed. no you did not.

"i was surprised when i saw you, you don't look over sixty at all," the man continued. you didn't know how to take this piece of information as a compliment or an insult. "whenever i come to these things, it's only me who doesn't have grey hair. well, some people dye it, which looks pretty obvious because you can't really hide age, y'know?"

usually you'd be annoyed. very annoyed, in fact, you'd switch seats to be away from the guy. but this one's got a nice voice, and the moment he sat down you caught a scent to him immediately, that old cashmere and cotton scent that comes from old, thrifted clothes that you'll find dug deep somewhere in your grandmother's basement or in vintage stores, and sugar cookies and mint and coffee. it's a good smell, is all. you weren't being creepy about it.

"i'm not over sixty," you assured him. "just scraping twenty-two."

"oh! i'm twenty-two too!" the man said excitedly. he had child's glee to him, which you found more endearing than annoying. you didn't know why. you didn't know why you were still sitting with the man instead of scurrying three rows away like you would have normally the moment any stranger tried to attempt small talk with you.

maybe you were a changed woman.

"how crazy," you mused. you didn't sound half as interested or excited as the man did, but he had most definitely got your undivided attention. you nature tells you to not show it.

"how did you hear about this movie? i tried to get some of my friends to watch it with me, but none of them were too interested...except emily, she's usually more interested because she can speak russian but she got plans this weekend," his face fell into a thoughtful frown at the end, and the clockwork in your brain started to turn at the mention of 'emily.' was that his girlfriend? special lady? you shouldn't be googling, then.

"my professor created an assessment for this movie," at the man's inquiring look, you explained further, "it's for my russian lit class."

his eyes shone like a fucking diamond at that, as if russian lit was the most exciting thing he had ever heard of in his life. you could tell that you were looking at the kind of guy who would decline a party full of seniors to go read a dictionary at home. "is that like an elective you take? 'cause it's a subject that fascinates me a lot, but the demand for it is so slim that--"

he was cut off by the movie finally starting and flickering to life. you turned away immediately, eyes focused and attention zeroed onto the introduction screen. screw the pretty boy for now, you thought, you might as well pack your things and go back to your hometown if you fuck up this movie's assessment. it needed your attention.

black and white and grimy, a pretty font wrote 'aelita, adapted by alexei tolstoy.' but as soon as the film started, the picture quickly collapsed, blurring and then fading into black. with the audience being so small, there wasn't much commotion but whispers of confusion began to arise as the lights began to bleed more yellow, lighting up the theater more. it was as if the movie was over.

"sorry folks," a voice came from the grainy megaphone above all of them. "some trouble with the tape. we are trying our best, but not sure of our luck. all tickets will be refunded if bought online or you bring your ticket to us for a mark so you can present your current ticket right now at the next showing. thanks for your patience."

you looked exaggeratedly around, and the man in the sweater vest next to you looked equally as disappointed.

"my professor is not going to believe me," you muttered under your breath, but the man caught it anyway and chuckled quietly. you looked down at your still full bucket of popcorn and your large coke. you glanced over to the man next to you, not too smart things lottering around in your head. you travel through the subway, and the ride to your street is not until two hours. you weren't going to spend it morosely eating popcorn in the waiting lobby.

"is emily your girlfriend?" you asked suddenly. there was no point in being shy. the man's mouth unhinged from his jaw immediately, and you stared at him. his cheeks quickly stained an innocent pink.

"what?" he squeaked, his voice a higher pitch, caught off-guard. "no! no, she-she's my coworker!" he sounded almost offended.

this took you by surprise. you didn't know people who were close to their coworkers existed. "so you don't have a girlfriend?"

the blush on the man's face kept getting brighter and brighter. you bit your lip to keep from smiling like a fool. with how endeared you were by him, it's strange to think that you don't even know his name yet. it was rare for you to really be so mindful and think such soft things about somebody, especially to a stranger.

you were a changed woman. but maybe it's because of the coffee caramels messing with your head. sugar and caffeine tend to do that.

"no," the man said, then cleared his throat. he was fiddling with his fingers, an obvious stim. "no, i don't have a girlfriend."

"sweet," you grinned, "then no one would mind if i take you on a date, would they?"

he choked and got engulfed in a coughing fit, bending over in his seat. the red of his sweater vest nearly blinded you but you patted his back supportively. when his coughing ceased and he sat back up again, his eyes avoided yours for a while as he fought to keep the redness in his face down before he looked at you again.

"so?" you raised your eyebrow. "the night doesn't wait, pretty boy."

the nickname just slipped out of your mouth, and you cringed at the weight of it. how out of pocket. you were going to go home and contemplate this conversation later. but right now, you were trying to take out probably the sweetest looking boy you've ever seen, and that was a more important matter as of.

"okay," he said, and that was that.

"okay," you repeated. "let's start with finishing this, yeah?" you looked down at your bothersomely big bucket of popcorn. "we can walk to the park and eat it and feed it to the ducks."

"actually, it's not safe for ducks to consume popcorn because it causes digestive issues especially if consumed in large quantities and disrupts their natural diet," the man recited matter-of-factly, blinking at you obliviously as if he just didn't acted like a fucking android. you huffed out a laugh. handsome and smart. pretty much a package deal.

"the popcorn will be just for us then," you promised, standing up. he followed suit, as a lone line of people started to exit the theater. "i hope you aren't a serial killer in disguise," you said jokingly, but not really, because that was a genuine threat. he laughed. it was a sweet, syrupy sound that you could soak up and not get sick of for a long time.

"that's ironic," he mumbled, and it flew past your head, you being too busy maneuvering out of the rows.

"what was that?"

"nothing," he smiled, bright and easy. the initial nervousness was already beginning to melt away. when you were side by side, his hand accidentally brushed yours and when you looked up at him, he was already looking another way, pretending to be distracted by the movie posters but the red in his ears and neck gave it away. you smiled to yourself and grabbed his hand, holding your bucket of popcorn in the other.

"i forgot," you said, suddenly. his head whipped around to face you, but not before lingering his gaze at your intertwined hands. "i didn't get your name."

it was a foolish thing to say, you were holding a man's hand and you were pressed up side-by-side against him and you don't even know his name. he smiled softly, though, like he didn't mind. "i'm spencer reid."

"i'm y/n y/l/n."

"hi y/n," spencer said. you exited the theater and he started slightly swinging your joined hands. you laughed, the popcorn and candy in the bucket rattling and threatening to spill but you didn't care. "i'm a little disappointed," he said, pouting a little bit, bottom lip jutting out. "i was excited for the movie."

you breathed out an incredulous laugh. what a guy.

"i wasn't," you said, honestly. yours and spencer's arms were still swinging, and you resisted the uncharacteristic giggle bubbling at your throat. "rather be doing this instead." unexpected date at the park with a pretty boy in a red sweater vest or a boring silent film? the answer sounded pretty obvious to you.

"hm," spencer hummed, amused. "i guess i can catch the movie some other time."

"you can catch it with me," you blurted, and it sounded too early to say. you haven't had a proper conversation with the guy yet, you didn't know what he does and how he is, you didn't know whether or not he has a cat or a dog or a parrot or a ferret or if his room is kept tidy or messy, and you didn't know how much you were going to like him once the night is over. asking for a second date when the first one hadn't even started felt like too much, but it also felt like the right thing to say.

and if it's right, it's good enough for you.

spencer smiled shyly. when you turned right on the street, he pulled you back by your hand and redirected you left. "let's go the scenic route," he said, casually, and you could tell by the magenta tinge in his cheeks and the way he was firmly looking forward, avoiding your eyes that he wasn't feeling as casual as he sounded.

"want some of my popcorn?" you offered, feeling the large bucket was burdening you.

"oh, no thanks," spencer said. "i'm sure the pigeons will appreciate it more than me."

"does popcorn ruin their digestive system and disrupt their natural diet, too?"

spencer popped a large grin. it sat beautiful on his pretty face. "you listened," he said happily, and it felt like a large airbag had just inflated in your lungs. "no, i think pigeons are too used to picking our food, especially those in the city," a long pause, and "in fact, pigeons have a stronger digestive system than most birds due to adaptation, but the strongest out of all of them are vultures, whose stomach acid are so strong it doesn't get sick e eating rotten and bacteria-infested meats."

you hummed. you wished you had paid closer attention to what he said, but instead you paid attention to the smooth sound of his voice and how nice it sounded. well. you'll get there one day.

[jymwahuwu]

How about a powerful mini darling? I was inspired by your mini interactions that I made this. Because the darling suddenly got shrunken to literal palm-sized, instead of standing around, she began making their way to success by using it to their advantage. Advertisements are hard to make with all those budgets and actors, right? Voila! With minimal yet good quality props, stellar lighting, and editing, you'll get her to advertise your products. Dolls, jewelry, make-up, perfumes and fancy alcohols. The darling is owning her smallness. Another protective barrier from the yandere to snatch her.

cw: yandere, mini! reader, mentioned escape, possible abuse of power in the future

You mean you started a new career as an advertising star? Very cute!! You found an entertainment company that was facing financial difficulties and was willing to do commercials and promotions for you. The agent holds your hand with his finger to show cooperation. Based on your current size, they can prepare makeup, advertising scenes, and lighting without expensive costs.

Once you appeared on the screen, many viewers expressed their appreciation and amazement. It was so adorable!! There are few species in the universe that are so miniscule. You inspired some fashion trends.

But, only you know that part of the reason why you became a star is because you want to escape… You want to get other people's attention, so you won't be forcibly taken away.

Thinking like this… is a bit naive.

Aventurine used a new proposal to work with the company. The more respectable term is cooperation, but in fact IPC has taken over the company. That's just a small business move, insignificant. The other members of Ten Stonehearts didn't know why he would do such a useless thing. Well, okay, there is a potential value, you can definitely become the most popular mini star.

When you were using a powder puff to prepare for a new commercial shoot, Aventurine's face was reflected in the mirror, and you were so scared that your heart skipped a beat. What? Why is he here? He reached out and cupped you in his palm, his thumbs pulling down your straps.

The assistant exclaimed, "Wait a minute, Mr. Aventurine, you can't do this…"

"Haha, don't worry, I won't do anything excessive here. This is just cooperation." You knelt down on his palm, your face flustered. The straps on both sides of your dress fell down, exposing your bare shoulders and thighs.

"Right? Nice to meet you. I will arrange ads for you directly in the future."

[eyesthatroll]

my love, mine all mine | quinn hughes

pairing: qh43 x fem!reader

warning(s): kissing, established relationship, nothing else i think. barely edited

summary: a lil somethin’ i wrote while listening to my love mine all mine by mitski

word count: 1.5k

author’s note: i am the most tired i have ever been right now and i have to get up in an hour or two for a ten hour shift 😔 but i hope you enjoy this lil number, it’s my first time writing for quinn n i hope i did alright. as usual, sending my love. go canucks! —mari

Yawning softly, you nestled yourself deeper into Quinn's warm embrace, allowing your eyelids to gently shut as you turned your back to the crackling fire. The animated conversation among the boys continued, the sound providing a soothing backdrop to the peaceful moment. Quinn's right hand moved in soothing circles on your back, while his other hand held onto a half-finished beer, the cool glass a stark contrast to the warmth you found in his arms.

During the sporadic lulls in the conversation, the mellowness of country music, Jack's choice, enveloped the space. The soulful chords of "Tennessee Whiskey" by Chris Stapleton, dominating the atmosphere. As you rested against Quinn's comforting presence, he quietly hummed along with the song, his voice adding a subtle layer to the music just low enough for only you to hear. Your fingers aimlessly toyed with the drawstring of his gray sweatpants, a futile effort to battle the creeping fatigue that had been amplified by the day's events. You were determined not to squander the night by retiring early, as the impending end of summer loomed overhead, casting a bittersweet shadow as it heralded the departure of everyone you loved, including your boyfriend of nine months.

Lowering his head, Quinn tenderly places a kiss on your forehead, his affectionate gesture infused with fondness and adoration. His hushed voice carries a gentle suggestion as he speaks to you, "Why don't you go up to bed, Baby-Doll?"

In response, you lightly shake your head, brushing aside his words. "I'm okay."

He doesn't press further, recognizing that your decision to head to bed will likely come only when he joins you. Nevertheless, he doesn't mind this compromise. Every moment in your embrace is precious to him, particularly with the imminent knowledge that in a week, he'll be heading back to Vancouver while you remain here. He keeps his inner turmoil hidden, unwilling to burden you with his feelings, but the strain of a long-distance relationship is slowly taking a toll. With your final year of university on the horizon, he hopes that you might consider moving to Vancouver with him, yet he's well aware of the magnitude of that request and the challenge it poses to both of you, so he's yet to bring it up.

Quinn spends the next twenty minutes or so caught in his head, his thoughts consumed by you and the possible future you might share. He absentmindedly nods at whatever topics the boys are discussing, their voices blending into a background hum as he drifts through his contemplations. In his mind, he envisions the two of you sharing a home, the two of you building a family together, and he can't help but smile at the idea, even if it remains unsaid in the midst of the casual banter.

"What do you think, Q?" Trevor asks, raising a beer to Quinn from across the flickering fire pit, where the warm glow dances in the darkness.

Quinn blinks, momentarily drawn from his reverie. "Huh?"

The group shares a collective chuckle, their laughter adding to the background melody of the evening. "Another beer, you want one?" Josh offers, extending a cold bottle towards Quinn.

A sudden hush fell over the group as they waited for his answer, emphasizing the gentle, rhythmic snores that escaped your lips. You looked utterly enchanting, cocooned in an old, oversized Michigan sweater of his, your delicate features half-hidden beneath your tousled curls. The dancing firelight painted your silhouette with warm, flickering hues, casting a soft, otherworldly glow around you.

In that poignant moment, as he looked down at you, all Quinn yearned for was to steal you away to your shared room. Just the two of you, wrapped in the comforting embrace of the warm duvet. He offered a tired smile. "No, actually, gonna call it for the night." The murmured words sounded like a gentle promise to both himself and the alluring vision before him.

You had always been a notoriously light sleeper, a trait Quinn found endearing. It was, therefore, a genuine surprise to him that you didn't stir the moment he scooped you into his arms and began carrying you into the house. However, as he carefully closed the screen door behind him, its echo resonated through the stillness of the house, and you stirred to consciousness. Blinking your eyes open, an expression of confusion graced your features as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. Your voice, soft and laden with sleep, slipped through your lips. "Quinn?"

"Goin' to bed, Baby-Doll," Quinn replies simply, his gaze momentarily fixated on you before he turns his attention to the path ahead, ensuring a safe ascent up the stairs with you in his arms.

He gently sets you down on the bed, and you flop back dramatically, savoring the comforting embrace of the sheets against your back, releasing a contented moan. Quinn chuckles at your playful display, beginning to shed his day clothes. And as much as you admired his physique, you spring out of bed, heading towards the en-suite bathroom, your intention to quickly wash your face and brush your teeth.

Soft footsteps echo through the bathroom as Quinn follows you inside, his tall and muscular frame comfortably settled in nothing but his boxers. The intimate setting feels soothing, and he joins you at the sink, standing side by side as you begin to brush your teeth.

You sneak a peek at him from the corner of your eye, and a playful glint in your eyes prompts you to initiate a playful toothpaste battle. Quinn's eyes widen as you start flicking tiny drops of toothpaste toward him, and he quickly retaliates, with laughter filling the room. Soon, both of you are playfully dueling with your toothbrushes, smirking and giggling like teenagers.

After the impromptu skirmish, Quinn doesn't put up any resistance when you give him your best puppy-dog eyes and plead for the privilege of conducting your nighttime skincare routine on him.

A comfortable silence envelops you both, the bathroom's soft lighting casting a warm, intimate glow. Perched on the bathroom counter, you have Quinn standing between your legs, your feet just barely wrapped around him. With gentle motions, you apply moisturizer to his flushed skin, your fingers caressing his cheeks with care.

Quinn's gaze is fixed on you, his eyes locked onto your face with an intensity that doesn't go unnoticed. As you work the moisturizer into his skin, you can't help but sense a subtle tension in his furrowed brows, a hint that something might be bothering him. You break the tranquil silence, your teeth grazing over your bottom lip, a nervous habit surfacing. "Are you okay?" You ask, your voice tender with concern, your eyes searching his for answers.

His response comes swiftly, as if he's been waiting for the right moment to share his thoughts. "You graduate this year," Quinn replies, his voice carrying a mixture of pride and a touch of uncertainty.

Your smile beams at him, and you gently place your hands on his strong shoulders, a gesture of reassurance. "I do," you affirm with a nod.

Quinn lets out a deep, contemplative breath, his hand instinctively moving up to run through his unruly, dark brown hair. His lips part and close a couple of times, as if he's grappling with the words he wants to convey, caught in a moment of indecision.

Your sudden, sweet kiss catches him off guard, his initial surprise giving way to a warm, affectionate response. Before he can fully process the gesture, you've already withdrawn, leaving a subtle, bashful grin dancing on your lips. "What's on your mind, My Love?"

He exhales another sigh, his tongue moistening his lower lip in contemplation before he voices his admittance. "I can't stand this long-distance thing."

Your lips contort into a pained frown, and an instinctive retreat pushes you further away from him, your back connecting with the mirror's cool surface. "Are you breaking up with me?" Your voice quivers at the fear of Quinn ending things so suddenly.

His eyes widen in alarm, a rapid motion closing the gap between you as he firmly grasps your waist, pulling you back into his comforting proximity. "No, no, baby, I'm not saying that at all." He emphasizes with a reassuring tone.

Relief floods your entire being, a soothing balm to your anxieties as the erratic thud of your heart settles back into its regular rhythm.

"What would you think about moving in with me, in Vancouver after you graduate?" His head tilts to the side, a distressed look on his face as tries to gage your reaction.

You crush your lips against his once more, the fervor of your kiss matching the intensity of your emotions. A delighted grin creeps across his face as your hands weave their way into his hair. Your mouths mold together in a harmonious dance, each movement executed in perfect synchronization. A subtle exploration ensues as you lightly trace your tongue across his bottom lip, coaxing it between your teeth, which elicits a throaty moan from him. With his defenses down, he grants you access, and your tongues engage in a sensual tango, his fingers pressing into your side involuntarily.

Breathlessly, you break apart from him. "I thought you'd never ask."

[storm-angel989]

Heyyy hope you are having a great day! Could I request a Valentino x daughter fic, where the reader had just arrived in hell and he helps her adjust? Thx

-🕯anon

HAPPY WEEKEND! The editing continues (in between adulting of course!)

Enjoy!

It was the smell she couldn’t get used to. 

The scent of rotting garbage that filled her nose every time she stepped out of the V tower- every time she stepped out from under her fathers direct protection. The clangs and clamors, yellings and beepings of car horns surrounded her. It was almost like being home…except, maybe a touch more dangerous. She turned to walk away from the red limo that sat, waiting for her. She had made it this far, after all. 

Her phone rang, adding to the noisy chaos that was the pride ring. Startled, she pulled it out of her pocket and scowled at the caller ID. Of course he knew the second she stepped out of the building. 

“Uncle Vox? What’s up?”

“You left the tower without telling us, everything okay?” Vox’s voice floated through the line. 

Reader rolled her eyes as she scanned the street. “I did tell you- this morning. I have an appointment to get my school uniform fitted, remember? Dad said I have to finish high school…there was a whole discussion…” 

“Your appointment is at noon. It's eleven and it takes ten minutes for the limo to get there. You’re too early.” 

On the other end of the line, she could hear what sounded like the ting of the elevator. Fuck. She was sure he was on his way down.

“Uncle Vox, I was going to walk to the shop. And maybe stop for a coffee on the way, I mapped my route with VoxQuest before I even walked out the door.” 

“You can’t just leave the tower whenever you please sweetheart, it’s dangerous out there. This is a much different world than you’re used to.” 

The dial tone buzzed in my ear and I turned around to see Vox walking towards me. I tried to hide my scowl. Three months. I had been in hell for three months and the lack of freedom felt like chains around me. On Earth I had the freedom to come and go throughout the world as I pleased. People feared me. No one messed with me. Partially because at the end of the day, I was a nobody- just another soul scraping my way to survive. But my arrival in hell shed light on exactly who I was- who my father was. And that made simply existing dangerous. 

My father passed when I was five. My mother before that- in childbirth, or so I was told. I didn’ have very many memories of him when he was alive- and even less so of his two best friends, Velvette and Vox. And none of my mother. All I knew of them is that when they died, they left me alone in Earth’s version of hell. 

I grew up fast, like most kids in my situation. So my early death wasn’t exactly a surprise. But what was a surprise was meeting my father within the first twenty four hours of my arrival in hell. Even more so to be thrust into a life of luxury- a stark contrast from fighting to survive. 

“Ah. Not to mention you don’t know any of the good places in town. Also does your father know you drink coffee? You’re a little young- not that I’m judging.” He continued as he tucked his arm around me. “Come along now, let me escort you if you insist on walking.”

There was a part of me that chafed at the supervision. I was almost a sophomore in high school, and I had been on my own for years. But another part of me, a bigger part of me, relaxed ever so slightly, the pounding fear in my heart, the wonder if I would survive another day melted with each passing week. 

The bell rang as we entered the coffee shop and I crossed my arms uneasily. As I studied the menu I scanned for the least expensive item. I hadn’t actually planned on buying anything. Even with the bright gold credit card I now carried in my wallet, it seemed like a waste of money- an unnecessary luxury- when the apartment never seemed to run out of coffee pods. It was more the warmth, brightness and safety of the shop that I craved. The memories of warming cold hands on hot water filled cups, scraping together pennies to save for an occasional teabag. 

“What looks good to you?” Vox asked. “Their blueberry coffee is killer.”

The uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment settled in my gut. He wouldn’t understand, even if I tried to explain it.

“Just uhm, a small black coffee,” I replied as I shifted my weight uneasily. 

He raised an eyebrow, “you take cream and sugar at home.”

“Yeah but that’s extra and I don’t want…”

He gave me an odd look but reached over and squeezed my shoulder comfortingly. “Why don’t you let me pick something for you? Go find us a spot to sit, your dad should be joining us in a few moments.”

Grateful to be free of the burden of ordering, of the anxiety I couldn’t kick that surrounded paying, I slid into a window seat and watched as the crowd passed by. A few moments later I heard the bell ring and looked up as the tall figure that was my father made his way into the room.

My memory of him alive was sparse, but in death, the man was larger than life. People moved when he walked, listened when he spoke and the fear they emitted around him was practically tangible. I watched as he scanned the room, and when his eyes met mine they practically lit up.

“Bebita, darling,” he cooed as he took the chair across from me, “Vox tells me you snuck out of the tower?”

I felt myself flush, “I’m sorry Dad I…”

“Forgot?” 

He reached across the table and took my hand in his. To my surprise he gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I understand, cariño. It must be tough, going from all the freedom in the world to being locked into a cage. Let’s try to be a bit better going forward, okay? Death in this world is far more permanent than on Earth.”

“Yes, Papi,” I muttered quietly as I looked down. 

“It must be strange to you,” he continued. “It was for me, when I first entered hell. For you, it’s an even bigger change. An overnight princessa.” 

I looked up at him to meet his gaze. 

“I looked up where you lived- or at least, where they claimed you lived. The rest of my intel says you ran the streets on Earth. And at such a young age,” he continued. “So to find yourself here- thrust into the lap of luxury and comfort, no longer fighting just to put food in your tummy, that lack of adrenaline rush must leave you feeling as though something is missing.” 

“I don’t know what to do,” I blurted out. “I have everything I ever dreamed of at my disposal. And I…and I don’t know what to do with it.”

Valentino studied me. A moment later, Vox joined the table and slid a steaming cup towards me. 

“This is what I’d like to suggest,” Valentino continued, taking the proffered cup from Vox’s hands. “And what I think will help you adjust the best. Help to ease you into this new life, since what we have been doing just doesn’t seem to be helping.”

The familiar panic settled over me. Was he kicking me out? Was my lack of obedience, lack of adjustment too much for him to deal with? 

“Hey, kiddo, take a breath,” Vox said quickly with a sharp look to Valentino. “There isn’t any reason to worry.” 

“Not at all,” Valentino said with another squeeze to my hand, “I was going to suggest that when we get you fitted for your school uniform, we review the list of clubs and sports that you can partake in. I think getting you involved in something, and establishing a day to day routine will help you adjust.”

“We all have one,” Vox added as he took a sip from his mug. “A routine, I mean. And we well know those survival instincts don’t just go away overnight. Finding an alternate way to access that adrenaline will help you settle in.”

I considered as I took a sip of my coffee. Sweetness exploded on my tongue- sugar and chocolate and cream, all combined into one. It was a heavenly treat, and I almost couldn’t believe it was real. That this was real. I looked out the window for a moment.

“Bebita? Tell us, what is on your mind?” Valentino asked as he studied me, “Please. Speak.”

“I’d like to do something to help. Not everyone who ends up in hell ends up in the life I now can lead…right? There must be some way to give back, to help those who used to be in my..situation.” I said finally. 

Vox and Valentino exchanged looks. Slowly, Vox nodded.

“We can look into that, sweetheart. That could be something we do…together, if you wish?” Valentino said slowly. “It isn’t something we…I…feel comfortable letting you go out and do by yourself.”

“We could even make it a family thing,” Vox added helpfully, “get Velvette involved.”

I could feel myself start to perk up. The more hands that helped, the better, right?

“Yeah, I would appreciate that. Thanks, Dad.”

I saw him smile and I took another drink from my cup, letting the warmth spread through me. 

“We’ll get you settled in, sweetheart,” Valentino told me, “I promise.”

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: What We Did In The Dark {3}

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: Language, 18+ Mature Content, Angst, Small Time Jumps, Preggo Talk, Pregnancy Trope, Talk of Pregnancy Termination

Words: 6.4k

Summary: Neither of you planned any of it. You’d met by chance, and everything that happened after had to have been predestined. Now back to your own life, you find you have a special souvenir from your time in Mauritius and you have a tough decision to make.

As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate it!

As you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

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What We Did In The Dark {1}**** | What We Did In The Dark {2}* |

Chapter Three: Better An Ooops….

“Take it easy!”

You groaned as you dropped face first onto your couch and let yourself spread out across the cool white leather. After 3 days in the hospital, tens of tests, and plenty of round-the-clock vitamin treatments to get your body up to standard for your condition you were finally released with prescriptions and doctor's orders to take it easy for a few days. You’d planned to come home and jump on your laptop to finish some things up, but Villie decided to bring you in and make sure you were settled. You knew she’d done it for a reason, and it was to make sure you didn’t do what you wanted to.

“So what do you feel like for dinner?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Tough shit. You’re going to eat. Your doctors said you need to take it easy, eat 3 balanced meals a day, and keep your stress levels down. So they took care of breakfast and lunch, now we order dinner.”

Villie dropped a heavy hand across your ass making you shout into the cushions of the couch. You shifted onto your side and rolled into a ball.

“What about the Halal spot that is on Blauvelt?”

You groaned and at the thought of all that meat covered with white creamy sauce, your stomach churned like the agitator inside of a washing machine. It didn’t feel right at all. Because of it, a ball of nausea formed in your chest, but your stomach grumbled.

“See, you’re hungry,” Villie assumed.

However, that was not the case. The thought of Halal made your stomach swirl like the letter “S”.

“No Halal.”

“Burgers, Mexican, Caribbean?”

None of those sounded any better. Suddenly, Villie gasped.

“Oooh, what about that Cuban spot?”

You allowed that to simmer for a few moments and when your stomach didn’t react you slowly sat up. In your mind’s eye, you saw a towering plate of empanadas beside another plate filled with Cuban-style seafood paella and a bowl of black bean soup and tostones. You looked to Villie and found her smiling widely.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You pulled out your phone and went to your food ordering app then found the restaurant she meant. You spent the following 5 or so minutes adding everything your stomach told you that you needed and had to have or else you’d die. By the time you’d checked out, your total and quantity were insane for just two people but as far as you were concerned everything was a necessity.

While Villie waited for the order, you took a quick shower. Or it was meant to be quick. Whenever you swiped your decadently soaped-up exfoliating gloves across your abdomen you paused up and your mind wandered. There was an actual baby inside of you right now—two to be accurate. You were carrying the babies of a man you’d only slept with once, well multiple times over the span of 5ish hours. You didn’t know him and you sure as hell hadn’t planned for this to be the outcome of your wanton night of pleasure.

There were so many things on your mind, so many worries to add to the ones you already had. According to Dr. Olumici, you had already reached the cut-off point to ethically terminate with her and most other providers. However, you could find other physicians who would perform an early 2nd-trimester termination. Through your research in the hospital, you educated yourself on why it was too unethical and brought so much controversy. Once you understood you couldn’t fathom doing it.

With that answer, you also couldn’t fathom yourself carrying these babies or giving them a life. You weren’t exactly stable in your life or career. You’d only just begun the path and had so many other things planned to accomplish before the whole adding to the population of the world thing. That meant you had a predicament on your hands that now only had one resolution—adoption. Even that didn’t sit right with you. Could you go on living your life knowing you had a life somewhere else in the world living, a being that came from you, a being you wouldn’t know in any way?

So you spent the entire shower going back and forth over your options but that only sent you into an endless circle with resolutions that weren’t real ones because they posed more problems and raised more questions. By the time you came out of the shower and returned to the living room, Villie was lost in her phone with the food spread out across your coffee table.

“That was longer than usual.”

“Yeah, I smelled like a hospital, I needed to smell like me.”

Villie nodded then grabbed the bottle that was in the center of the table, “Did you know you can get alcohol delivered off of Dash?”

You snorted. Leave it to her to try. You took a seat on the floor beside her ready to dig in but her phone resting on the table caught your eye. It was the picture of the man who’d showed up at the hospital, the one you’d rear-ended.

“You found him on socials already?”

Villie glanced at her phone then scoffed. “It wasn’t hard. Take a guess who he’s connected to.”

You thought about it for a second but the smells wafting from the containers took your attention. You went through pulling off the tops of the food containers and moaning as each new smell filled the room.

“Oh my god, I didn’t realize how hungry I was until now.”

Without another word, you dug into the food filling your plate with a lot of everything. Once you were satisfied with the bites you had taken you glanced back at Villie who was wide-eyed.

“What?”

“Glad to see your appetite has come back.”

You nodded and continued stuffing your face. Over the last few days, though you hadn’t vomited, you felt small bouts of nausea that came and went and the look of most of the hospital food left you not wanting to eat much. You’d worried it was going to be a permanent thing, but those worries were put to rest now.

“So, guess who he’s connected to,” Villie broached again.

“I don’t know,” you said mouth full of food.

Villie grabbed her phone and slid across her screen then held it up to you. When you looked, Lewis Hamilton’s face filled her screen. You gasped forgetting your mouthful of food then immediately began choking from the few particles that went down the wrong pipe.

“Oh my god!”

Villie leaped to her knees, patted your back with one hand, and poured some of the dark liquid from the bottle into a glass before she handed it to you. As you brought it to your nose your stomach turned from the strong scent of alcohol. You put the glass back on the table and shook your head. Villie kissed her teeth and then hurried to the kitchen before she came back with a bottle of water. You took several gulps in between coughs trying your best to dislodge the food that was stuck in your windpipe.

After a few attempts, you took a deep breath and hung your head back.

“Are you all right?”

You nodded, wiping your eyes from the tears that had slipped out.

“Jesus. I know the man is fine, fine but get a grip,” Villie teased.

You scoffed then pressed your palms to your face.

“Wait. Eh-em, you’re telling me the man I ran into is connected to him?”

“Yep. His name is Miles Chamley-Watson. He is the BFF to Lewis Hamilton, like for real BFF shit. They go everywhere together.”

Your eyes were bugged as you pieced it together. How small was this fucking world? How was this even real? The more you thought about it you began to wonder if he was in Mauritius with him. If so, did he know who you were?

“Oh my god.”

“Right! Like we kind of hit it off. I’m not gonna say there was flirting but there was flirting.”

“So you’re interested in him?”

Villie smiled as she drank down the glass of rum she’d poured for you. “I might be. What do you think? Do you think I shouldn’t be?”

How were you supposed to answer that? If she pursued things and they ended up becoming a thing didn’t that mean eventually one way or another you and Lewis would interact with one another? If you did wouldn’t he find out about the babies? If he found out--. The thought paused as a bigger item zipped itself up the agenda. Would he even remember you? He was after all Lewis Hamilton. You were sure there was no shortage of women he spent his time with. Why would he remember you from one night and 5 hours?

“Y/N?”

“Uh—um, well--.”

You saw the hope in her eyes and knew you couldn’t minipulate this because of your situation. Sighing you took her hand. “Valenza, I saw something between y’all. I say go with it and enjoy yourself. Who knows this could be it.”

Villie screeched then began laughing like an erratic high schooler who’d just learned their crush liked them back. Smiling you went back to eating. As Villie talked about Miles for a few more minutes your mind was lost in its own world. This shit was getting even more complicated.

~~~~~~~

4 Weeks Later

Your eyes never left the front door of 4057 Lake Drive Blvd. You’d been sitting in your car for the last 3 hours obsessively staring at the door with one hand on your steering wheel while the other rested on the door handle. You’d had every intention of getting out of your car and going inside 2 hours ago. However, that didn’t work out. Every time you tried to force your feet to move they didn’t. Instead, you sat outside the women’s health center as the time clicked closer and closer to your appointment until that same time clicked further and further away from your appointment time.

Now you were a whole 2 hours past your appointment time with no progress on getting out of the car. As you sat here you went over every single option over and over and over. You interjected every variable, every single con to every single choice. However, with every con, you found yourself seeing just as many pros. Now it was impossible to tell what the right decision was.

Never in your life had you thought you’d consider termination let alone a 2nd trimester one, but you were finding out that in most decisions no one knows what they would do until they are in it. You didn’t think you’d have unprotected sex with a stranger in your life but when the moment came you were one hundred percent DTF (down to fuck).

You closed your eyes for probably the hundredth time and took several deep, slow breaths. On the fifth one, you held it and allowed your heartbeat to steadily slow until it beat low and evenly. It was a trick you’d done most of your life to calm yourself and think clearly. When everything fell away, including the sounds of traffic, the sounds of the city you loved, and even the drum of your engine, you were left with your heartbeat and the rustling of the palm leaves. It was then that you felt the butterfly fluttering sensations again.

When you’d first felt them a week ago you hadn’t known what they were, and it took a few days to recognize what they were. Every Google search confirmed it—fetal movements. That was when it all became real and right now sitting in front of the health center where a doctor was waiting to perform your termination that you were now 2 hours late for because you were panicking and waiting for a sign to show you the right path to take, did it really become real.

Your hands left their current positions, the steering wheel and the door handle, and drifted to your belly which was now ever so slightly poked out. As if the minuscule beings inside of you knew your hands were there the fluttering intensified, crippling you with emotion. You dropped your head onto the steering wheel and allowed yourself to cry for the first time.

What could have been mistaken for sad tears weren’t. They were tears of resolution, tears of understanding, tears of acceptance—of fear. This was your sign, your answer, your path, and you were scared shitless. So your tears flowed down your cheeks and dripped all over you soaking your top. Even then you didn’t stop, you let it all out even turning up the music to drown out the sounds of your sobs.

From this moment forward, your life would never be the same and from this moment forward, you would face whatever came your way on this path with one thought in mind—what was best for your babies. When your tears finally subsided you wrapped your arms around your midsection, hugging yourself and the lives within you, and took a deep breath.

“Okay. I didn’t expect you and I surely didn’t plan you, but I won’t get rid of you. I hope you don’t regret choosing me because you’re stuck with me, and I promise I will do everything to protect you from today onward. Be gentle and patient with me and we’ll learn together.”

As if your words were heard, the flutters returned making you smile. pressing your head back on the headrest you sighed and tried to formulate a plan. That was when your phone rang sending audio caller ID off.

Villie calling. Villie calling. Villie calling.

You scoffed. Even the universe knew the plan was to tell Villie because she was good at coming up with a plan that ensured you were the primary benefiter. Truthfully, you should have told her weeks ago but since your release from the hospital she’d been spending a lot of time with Miles. Though he lived in the UK, they were always on Facetime dates, they’d now met up in London 3 times and you were sure she knew what Miles Jr looked like.

You hadn’t wanted to make things weird between them or add any stress given the truths of your situation. You really had wanted to keep things separate. Now with you deciding to keep the babies and raise them, there was no way you could keep everything from her anymore. She was your best friend after all. Tapping the answer button, you buckled yourself in.

“Hey V.”

“Hey. Where are you?”

“Umm--,” you stretched as you pulled out of the parking lot of the medical center and onto Berman Street.

“Getting on the highway, what’s up?”

“I feel like shopping. Are you down?”

“Yeah, tell me where to meet you.”

The drive through South Beach was unlike any drive you’d done before. Over the last few weeks, you’d been tense and stressed out to the max. It was evident in the way you gripped the steering wheel and sat in your seat. Now you felt differently. You were more relaxed, and more centered but also more cautious. You found yourself stopping and allowing more women and children cross even if they didn’t have the right of way, found yourself driving slightly below the speed limit and following every single traffic law that was in the driver’s manual that you’d neglected mere weeks before.

By the time you parked and fed your meter, you were 10 minutes late and intensely craving a massive green smoothie. After getting not one but two, you found Villie already well into her shopping in one of the lingerie stores.

“What took you so long?”

“Traffic and I needed a smoothie. So for you, shopping starts with lingerie.”

“Of course.”

You chuckled then began going through the racks. There were tons of cute stuff, but you knew soon you wouldn’t fit any of it and you had no one to wear any of this for. With that thought you looked at Villie.

“Valenza Tamina Chord, are you stocking up for a particular event?”

She smiled widely then walked off.

“No, no. Don’t try to slip away. What’s going on?”

“Miles is coming to town in a few weeks for a week and--.”

“You plan on getting your back broke, throat bruised, and internal organs rearranged. Okay!”

Villie giggled as she took down a navy blue strappy number that would look great on her and examined it.

“Okay I don’t know about throat bruised but the rest of it yep.”

You snorted and shook your head. “First of all, get that, it’ll look phenomenal on you. Second, let’s see if you have a voice when he comes.”

“Oh my god, Y/N, he is so cool, such a good guy.”

“He seems like it. I’m glad you’re having fun you deserve it.”

Villie’s eyes landed on you and for a few moments she studied you. “I’m not the only one who deserves it, you do too.”

You nodded and walked away to another rack and idly went through the hangers.

“I mean it. You’ve been single for long enough don’t you think?”

“I have a lot going on Villie. I don’t need another thing to worry about.”

“I understand what you mean but sometimes if it’s the right thing it doesn’t become a worry but something to bring you happiness, and peace.”

You sighed the words at the tip of your tongue but with no way to come out. This wasn’t something you could blurt out and be done with. You knew Villie, she would want to dissect everything on top of wanting a play-by-play of your dick down. This conversation couldn’t be had in the middle of a lingerie store.

“When do we meet the creative director of the station?”

“Boo! Always changing the subject. Fine, whatever. Next week is the meeting. Their name is Sadie Walters and she sent over some ideas for her vision along with some papers to understand your vision. So you got some homework.”

“Okay. I’m excited to get this off the ground and get back to traveling.”

“Workaholic. One day you will regret working so much and pushing your personal life to the side.”

You turned your back and quietly scoffed. If she only knew how little time you would have for a personal life in the next few years she’d take that back. For the next several hours you dipped in and out of almost every store adding bags and bags of clothes, shoes, makeup, and body products until you both were exhausted. After you had dinner at a nearby steakhouse where again you ate nearly everything in sight. When you both split at the end of the night you attempted to get the words out but still you couldn’t. You weren’t quite ready, and you worried you would be really showing before you were ever ready.

~~~~~~

-2 Weeks Later-

Pop!

The champagne bottle top flew across the room colliding into the wall, making everyone cheer and clap. After so many weeks of work with finishing up your catalog, the vacation wear line, and getting the behind-the-scenes stuff of your travel show down everything was signed, sealed, and done. Tomorrow was the release of your catalog and vacation wear line, and you were absolutely freaking out.

“Oh my god. Thank you everyone!”

You went around your office and hugged each and every one of the people who helped you get here. You wrapped your arms around Zavier and squeezed.

“Thank you Z, you made this catalog incredible. I cannot thank you enough!”

“Congratulations. You’re more than welcome.”

Next, you moved on to Sabrina and Chloe, the interns who’d been hired to maintain some of the back-end things. “Thank you beautiful souls.”

“You’re welcome!”

When you moved to Villie she rocked you side to side. That was when the waterworks started.

“Oh Villie, thank you, thank you!”

“Shut up. I don’t need thank yous. I am so happy for you. It’ll be no time now before you are bigger than Anthony Zimmerman.”

“Girl, we are not alike. He travels to eat everything; I travel to party.”

Everyone laughed at that. When Villie handed you a glass of champagne you froze.

“We have to drink to you and all that you’ve accomplished and to this amazing team of ours,” Villie said holding her glass up.

Everyone followed her and tapped their glasses together. You brought the glass to your lips, but you didn’t take a sip as they all did.

“Thank you guys so much for all your hard work and dedication to these projects. It means the world to me.”

You hoped they understood how much they meant to you though you couldn’t fully express it because if you did, you knew you would cry uncontrollably which would be weird. You were having a hard time keeping your emotions under control over the last two weeks as your pregnancy progressed. You saw a dandelion blow away from a hard gust of wind earlier and that made you cry for the poor dandelion that would never be seen again. With that, you knew your emotional state was highly unbalanced.

When the bottle of champagne disappeared, everyone started to file out to get on with their own days leaving you and Villie. You scrolled through the virtual catalog in complete awe. You couldn’t believe that after so many months it was over and would be out for the world to see. The pride you felt was indescribable. You’d accomplished this without using anyone's clout, or influence to elevate it. You didn’t have any major help, most of it was compiled by you using your skills and talents. It wasn’t until near the end had you brought on more expertise. This was your baby.

“I can’t believe this is done, V.”

She doesn’t reply. When you felt her approach, she pulled up a chair beside you then sighed. “I can’t believe you haven’t told me what’s been going on with you since you were released from the hospital.”

You paused and fought the rapid beating of your heart because you knew she would hear it in the quiet office. “Uh--.”

“I’ll give you a few moments to come up with what you are going to say to come clean with me but the words out of your mouth better be the truth. I’ve let you go for all this time but right now I’m getting offended and hurt that you don’t feel like you can talk to me.”

You spun to her and grabbed her hands. “No, no. Villie, that’s not it I swear!”

“No? Then what else could it be, Y/N?”

You sighed then found your words. Gripping her hands tighter you looked at her. “Okay look. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how and honestly I didn’t know until a few weeks ago and since then I have been a mess trying to wrap my head around it and future my shit out. It’s a lot happening.”

“Are you sick? Please don’t tell me you have cancer.”

“What? No! I don’t. I’m not sick.”

Villie let out a relieved huff of breath then took a steadying one. “Then what? What is going on?”

“I’m—I’m—pregnant.”

Villie just stared at you with a blank expression. She didn’t move, she didn’t even look as if she were breathing. Leaning forward you studied her closer trying to gauge just what she was thinking. Biting your bottom lip you prepared yourself to repeat the words but just as you opened your mouth to, Villie sprang to her feet.

“What! P—pr—pregnant?”

She walked to the far side of the office. “I know you fucking lying.”

“Uh--.”

“No. It’s a lie. There is no way. How did you get pregnant? When?”

You understood her reaction. You hadn’t told her about your night with Lewis because you didn’t want to be one of those girls who bragged about spending the night with a celebrity and you honestly were kind of embarrassed by everything that happened that night. You’d turned into a completely different person and when the sun rose, and you’d found your limbs entangled with his and your very naked bodies still connected under the massive palm tree that was tucked out of sight you’d felt stupid and easy so you ran as fast as you could without looking back. As far as she knew you’d been in a sex drought for 2 years.

“Y/N!”

“Calm down. I should be the one freaking out. I’m the pregnant one.”

Villie’s eyes widened.

“I’m not lying. I am pregnant. I found out at the hospital after the accident and that’s what’s been going on for the last few weeks. I was trying to wrap my head around it all and figure out what I wanted to do about it. Because of everything that I have going on I didn’t think I could continue this, so it’s been a stressful few weeks,” you rushed out.

Ville was still standing across the room and now looking at you like you had two heads. “You’re not fucking with me?”

“I’m not fucking with you. I promise.”

Instantly Villie crossed the room to you taking you into her arms and hugging the life out of you. “Oh, honey.”

With your best friend comforting you, your tears began flowing. When she heard your sniffles she pulled back and pouted.  “You’re really pregnant?”

Nodding, you sniffled some more. Villie’s tear-filled eyes overflowed and the two of you hugged again and ugly cried together. Relief filled you as you relished the comfort of the one person who's had your back for over a decade. You weren’t alone with this anymore. You knew without a doubt that Villie would have your back the entire way.

When the two of you sat back down, you both wiped your tears and snot and laughed at each other for being so emotional about it.

“Oh my god, Y/N.”

“I know.”

“Oh my god,” Villie repeated.

“I know, I know. It’s huge.”

“Huge? This is—colossal. You’re pregnant.”

You nodded, “I am.”

“You’re pregnant with a baby, like a real baby.”

“Ha, try two babies. Two real babies.”

Villie shot to her feet again.

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Girl I nearly passed out when I found out.”

Villie screeched then and practically tackled you with another hug. “Twins! Aah, Y/N, how precious is that?!”

You snorted. Of course she would be the one to die over the cuteness of it all. Villie dropped back into the seat, then reached for your belly. When she realized it was not flat her eyes became the size of the moon.

“Holy fucking shit, Y/N. This feels so real.”

“Oh it’s real. It’s so real I have had to sideline 3 of my favorite pairs of jeans already and I’m not even halfway there yet.”

“So you’re keeping them, right? You better be keeping them.”

“I’m keeping them. I couldn’t do the procedure. It didn’t feel right in my heart.”

Villie nodded. “I get that. It’s different to hold my hand through mine than be the one in the stirrups getting your own. It’s a decision every woman has to make for herself.”

A few moments of silence stretched as both of you thought back to when Villie ended up pregnant barely one year into law school. Her then asshole boyfriend freaked and went as far as to transfer schools just to get away from the whole thing. After hours of tears, weeks of lamenting, and one in-depth heart to heart she decided it was best to terminate. So, you held her hand through the whole thing and per her request, the two of you never spoke of it again.

Squeezing her hand for comfort, you continued, “It was simply too late for me to have a clear conscious about it. Then I got a sign showing me what to do and—yeah, here we are.”

Villie squeezed your hand again. “Well, I am happy for you honey. You are going to be an amazing mom.”

You groaned. “Mom. V, this is insane. The show, the catalog, the line, all the traveling I’m going to be doing, the chaos of filming. I can’t do this, right?”

“Of course you can do this. You’re not going to be alone doing it either. I will be here. I will be with you for every single thing, ultrasounds, Lamaze, nursery planning, hospital bag packing, birth, and every day after. You’re not alone and you can do this,” she assured in her attorney voice.

Slowly you nodded as her words sank in filling you with confidence. Suddenly Villie gasped.

“Hold up. When did this happen? Who!?”

You let her hand go, stood, and grabbed your stuff.

“Let’s go to my place.”

Villie looked cautiously at you. “Oh god, is it Zavier?”

“What! Hell no.”

“What do you mean hell no? Zavier is fine as hell. You have seen his abs right and his tight ass?”

“Oh my god V, stop sexualizing Z.”

“I’m not. I’m just asking if you have seen his abs and his ass.”

“Yes, I have seen them and yes they are great.”

“Not to mention he is crushing so hard on you, has been for like a year now.”

“Shut up, he hasn’t.”

Villie rolled her eyes as she walked out the door first. “Oblivious fool. Can’t stand you bitches who don’t notice when you have men wrapped around your finger. until it's too late”

You snorted, “Who you calling a fool?”

The bickering continued as you made your way to your cars. When you separated to drive there separately, you made a quick stop at the Cuban spot near your house and once again picked up enough food for an army. When you got home Villie was already waiting for you. She helped you line out the food on the coffee table and get drinks ready, then you dug in. Halfway through eating Villie turned to you to press further.

“I know you’ve been stalling. Spill it already. Is he some struggling cartel clown who thinks he's next in line but is still the errand boy?”

“God no.”

“One of these struggling Miami rappers who swear they got bars but really don't understand the meaning of the word?”

You chuckled. “No.”

“Oh, a struggling underwear model who--.”

“Why do they all have to be struggling?”

“Because you’re stalling which means you’re either embarrassed of him or you regret letting him hit and most likely it’s because you’re ashamed of who he is.”

“I’m not—embarrassed or ashamed of him per se.”

“Okay if not who, then tell me when. When did this happen?”

“Mauritius.”

Her eyes widened again.

“Holy shit, did you Stella Got Her Groove Back on some hot barely legal island bway and brought back your very own Mauritian souvenirs.”

You busted out laughing sending food out of your mouth and onto the floor beside you.

“Wait, wait, wait. Barely legal isn’t my thing and since when have I been out of commission long enough to Stella Got Her Groove Back on anyone?!”

“It’s been 2 years, Y/N. You’re honeytrap was growing cobwebs.”

You laughed loudly again loving the feeling. It had been too long since you’d laughed like this.

“First of all. Fuck you!”

Villie laughed along with you.

“No, it’s who fucked you?”

You hugged her and rocked from side to side.

“Oh I love you Villie.”

“Love you too honey. That doesn’t mean I am letting this go. Tell me already.”

“Fine. Lewis Hamilton.”

Villie gave you a “yeah right” look then busted out laughing. She laughed so long that it gave you more time to keep eating. Slowly she realized you weren’t laughing with her and slowly she stopped.

“I didn’t mean lie to my face.”

“Who’s lying?”

Villie stared at you for a few moments then you watched every cell in her body light up until her face was bright and her eyes wide. That’s when it happened. She screamed. You nodded your head because it was either this reaction you’d expected or the complete disbelief. You’d gotten them both.

“No fucking way!”

“Oh yes fucking way.”

“You had sex with Lewis Hamilton in Mauritius? Oh ho ho, details. I need every single piece of information starting with who said the first word to whom, moving on to are his hands as big as they seem, then what he smells like, then can he kiss, then not skipping any minuscule detail like boxers or briefs, circumcised or not and finally how big and can he lay pipe.”

She screeched again, grabbed her bottle of beer, turned to you then cleared her throat. “Okay, begin.”

She was an absolute trip. You spent the few hours going over every detail of that night that you dared to with Villie. You even let her know how free you’d been with yourself and all the things you’d let him do to you, all the ways you’d let him have you and claim your body. With every piece of info, Villie looked like she was near an aneurysm. When you told her how you’d let him into your back door she lost her shit. She screamed so loud you were sure your neighbors would call the police thinking foul play was afoot.

By the time you finished, Villie was laid out on her back with a dazed look on her face staring at the ceiling as if she had been the one who’d gone through probably the best night of fucking ever recorded by man or woman. You gave her a few minutes to recover and let it all sink in and used the time to finish off the food.

“Oh my god, Y/N.”

Villie sat up panting, her hair a mess.

“Are you good?”

“Am I? Are you? All of that went down?”

“All of that went down. I got back to my hotel room and didn’t recognize myself in the mirror.”

“You a freak, freak, freak!”

Both of you laughed some more.

“I can’t believe you.”

“I know. Mauritian rum is no fucking joke.”

“No. I can’t believe you left him there naked in the sand. Why!?”

“What? Why? You’re joking. I couldn’t stay.”

“Why?”

“Because it was over, it was one night and—I—I,” you sighed. “I was embarrassed. I felt like a fool.”

“You were embarrassed to have slept with Lewis Hamilton?”

“Partly. You’ve heard the rumors about him, heard the stories of him having a harem and contractual relationships that center around sex and extravagance, and here I went and fell for him.”

“Wait, fell for him, fell for him?”

You sighed and thought back to your conversation and the vibe between you.

“I don’t know. I’d had a lot to drink that night and was on a high after that folk dance with the island’s natives and there was something when our eyes met through the flames of the fire. There was something that made me fall enough to let all that go down.”

“Do you like him?”

“I don’t know him. I don’t know I felt like I became this whole other person that I have never been before but it didn’t feel like a mask or me pretending and it makes me wonder why did it come out with him and not anyone else?”

Villie nodded. “So instead of finding out why by staying till he woke up, you ran away and brought back 2 souvenirs with his DNA that you now have to find a way to tell him about.”

“Tell him? Why would I tell him?”

Villie looked at you with incredulity. “You’re joking.” She stared at you longer then scoffed when she realized you weren’t. “No, Y/N, you have to tell him. Don’t you think he deserves to know he will have 2 children running around with his DNA?”

“---No.”

“Y/N--.”

“Okay wait. I can see how you would say yes and well—maybe—yes. Fuck. How do I tell him this Villie? Do I just DM him on Insta and be like hey remember me? He probably won’t if the stories are true he’s had nights like this plenty of times. What do I say?”

“Who cares about the stories, the rumors, and any of that other noise. Right now you are pregnant and you’ve decided to keep the babies—his babies. You have to tell him and let him figure out if he remembers you, and decide what he plans on doing. Whatever he decides won’t affect you. If he decides to man up great then you figure it out. If he decides to deny, deny, deny then fine, move on.”

You heard her words. They made plenty of sense, but you were still apprehensive. You didn’t want to be perceived as that girl. The one who showed up with a pregnancy from one night or a situationship where terms were clear.

“This is messy, Villie.”

“It is but what isn't messy these days? Oh my god, Miles.”

You looked at her as she finally thought about her connection to all of this.

“He’s his bestie right, and now your boo thang.”

Villie smiled at those words then scoffed. “The world is so fucking small.”

“Tell me about it,” you replied.

The two of you sat quietly for a few moments both in your own heads about your situation.

“Well, you have an in to talk to him when you’re ready to tell him about the pregnancy.”

“What in? Miles?”

“Yeah. We’ll tell him and ask if he can get you a face-to-face.”

“Face to face? Villie.”

“Is this the kind of news you really want to send over socials, text messages, or word of mouth?”

You hated when she was right.

“Also from a legal standpoint, if you kept this from him now and he somehow found out years down the line, he could file a lawsuit against you and seek damages.”

“From little ol' me?”

“If he was feeling really butt hurt, that’s the minimum of what he could do legally,” Villie confirmed.

You sighed then dropped back onto the floor. Your hands instantly went to your stomach and you felt your slight bump. This shit was messy and had the potential to get even messier. Villie was right though, you did have to tell him, it was the right thing to do.

Looking at it from a different angle, it was better to say "Hi remember me, oops I’m pregnant" than not and wonder what if.

You closed your eyes and groaned. Your life had turned upside down in the span of a few months and once again it was all because of the things you’d done in the dark.

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

TagList:

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[priniya]

MYSTERY OF LOVE !

kenma kozume’s girlfriend casually walks in on his stream and spends some time with him.

notes: kenma kozume x reader. established relationship, streamer!kenma and reader, kind of tenz and kydae relationship (cus im a simp for them).

taglist (click here to be added!)

“hey, sorry if ‘m interrupting, but you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast. want me to make something particular for you or my mom’s lasagne will be okay?” you entered your boyfriend’s office, leaning on the doorway with a worried expression on your face. his eyes shot to you almost immediately, and you could watch his face lightening up upon seeing your silhouette.

“fuck me, it’s been a whole day already?” he asked, tilting his head back by pulling his (a little too long) hair. “whatever you’ll bring me i’d eat with pleasure, love.” a shadow of smile spread over his face as you nodded. “thanks, love you.”

it also turned out that he didn’t mute his stream, and everyone heard his show of affection to you. the whole chat spammed with hearts and awws as you were a common guest on his streams since you were a streamer yourself.

after a few minutes of playing, you walked into the room again, staying off-screen as you handed him the plate with promised lasagne. “don’t you wanna say hi?” he asked, looking at you with a small beam.

it’s been a few months since you revealed your relationship accidentally, there was a glimpse of you, giving your boyfriend a smooch on the lips during one of the irl live-stream of your close friend. the internet had already known you were friends, so announcing that you weren’t only good friends was a hot topic for you two, deciding if you should do it.

“hello chat” you spoke out softly, appearing on the stream with a smile, you could feel kenma’s arm wrap around your waist prior to pulling you to sit on his lap. “wait, have you pulled for nilou on my account already? am telling you chat, this boy is the luckiest one out there.”

“it’s obvious i’m lucky, i have you.” his arm tightened around your waist, as he rested his head on your shoulder, ready for all the edits to flood his twitter timeline. “i haven’t though, do you wanna see how she loses 50/50 with jean?” your boyfriend chuckled, switching the scene so the viewers could only see you.

“stop saying that. i’m gonna off myself if i get another constellation of her. i’m serious chat.” you stated, a serious grimace on your face as kenma logged into your account and switched back the scene when the loading screen appeared. “i’ve been playing on ken’s account lately, yknow farming artifacts for his nilou and gooood, she’s so gorgeous.” you dragged out, shifting on his lap as he opened the wishing window.

viewer kodzuken wished for nilou?? he said she’s shitty

“i didn’t say she’s shitty, i think she’s not worth wishing for.” he answered, making the first ten pull. “yet you still have her in your main party?” you frowned.

“it’s because i know you like her.” he confessed, making you melt internally. you turned your head to face your boyfriend and left a peck on his lips. “you haven’t noticed? i hate playing with the bloop bloop skin in valorant, but it’s your favorite so i always have it on.”

you were about to reply when the game shined with gold. “SHE’S COMING!” you shouted, but then, almost as if your boyfriend cursed it, you saw jean on the screen. “you’re sleeping on the couch today.”

he laughed lowly in respond as he continued to pull on the hydro character’s banner until another gold show on the screen (literally twenty pulls later). “she came home, told you, you’d get her.”

when the stream finally ended, and kenma finally took a break to eat a proper meal besides a few bars of snickers. you sat beside him at the couch, and watch him as he eat. “you should start eating during streams, baby. i’m getting worried.” you muttered, resting your head on his shoulder with a sigh. “almost a ten hours long stream and you ate three snickers and drink at least four energy drinks, ‘s not healthy at all.”

“i’m sorry, love. i’ll set myself a reminder, okay? don’t your pretty head worry.”

[writingquestionsanswered]

"Probably one of my biggest writing-related takeaways of 2023 was the brain science behind being overwhelmed by writing. So often, we put so much pressure on ourselves to meet goals, and get so frustrated with ourselves when we fail, that we end up making writing time something that fills us with anxiety. So our brains perceive that activity as a threat, which makes us want to avoid it."

I'd love to learn more about this cause it's my biggest problem when it comes to writing. The avoidance of the task, but it also manifests also as feeling overwhelmed by writing a long story/novel.

Some Brain Science Behind Avoidance

I encountered this idea of fear-based avoidance in a few workshops and summits over the past year, but I have to give a shout out to author/coach Monica Hay whose "Overcome Writer's Resistance Bootcamp" explained it the best. I can't find my notes so I'm going from memory here, but the gist of it was that our brains are hard-wired to avoid things that make us feel fearful or uneasy. This is an evolutionary throwback to when those instinctual feelings helped us steer clear from danger. As I remember Monica putting it, "Don't go that way, there are cheetahs there that will eat us."

So... how does this apply to avoidance of writing?

When we heap unreasonable goals and deadlines on ourselves, and berate ourselves for falling short of them, we inadvertently turn writing into a stressful activity. So, when we sit down to write, our brain picks up on that stress and says, "Don't go that way, cheetahs will eat us," and your gut instinct tells you to avoid this stressful activity at all cost. And then it becomes kind of a vicious cycle because you feel even worse because you're avoiding writing, and that makes you feel more overwhelmed and makes writing more stressful, and well... you can see the problem.

The solution? De-stress the writing process for yourself as much as you can. Start by de-stressing yourself when you sit down to write... take a relaxing walk first, do some yoga or a meditation exercise, or try some grounding techniques. See if you can do some things to make your writing environment more relaxing and inviting. Put on some soft lighting and relaxing music, use your favorite method to lightly scent the air, grab your favorite drink and snack. Then, just try to move the needle forward in any way you can.

My suggestions: try editing a sentence. Maybe see if you can add a paragraph or two. Don't think about deadlines or word count or what others are doing. Just focus on adding something to the page, even if it's changing a word or adding a sentence. Don't push yourself. Congratulate yourself on whatever progress you made. Ultimately, if you do this every day, the stress should start to melt away and writing becomes an activity that your brain no longer tells you to avoid.

Another suggestion: try to avoid setting arbitrary deadlines, or if you have to set a deadline, take a look at your schedule/calendar and be really honest about how much time you actually have to write. Because so often what happens is we say, "I want to finish this 80k word draft in eight weeks..." but the reality is we're not going to write all 56 of those days. In fact, when we take an honest look...

-3 days per week for days with both class and work = 32 days -5 days for a cruise next month = 27 days -1 day for bestie's birthday celebration = 26 days -Sundays because that's hiking day = 18 days Suddenly, that eight weeks is actually only 18 days... and that's not even taking account things that come up unexpectedly. But, let's say you do get to write all 18 days, and let's say you know you can commit three hours a day to writing but you'll probably take two ten-minute brakes... so 48 hours worth of writing. But here's the problem: you know on a good hour, you're probably only going to write 1200 words. And guess what: 1200 words per hour over 48 hours is only 57,600 words... far short of your 80k goal... and that's assuming you get to write all 18 days and hit 1200 words every hour you write. In other words... you've set yourself an impossible deadline, and when you fall short of it without understanding why, you're going to be disappointed in yourself. And that's why it's so, so important to be honest about the time you have and how much you can reasonably accomplish within that time. Also: just don't be hard on yourself. It will never make you write faster, more, or better.

I hope you can use this to overcome your own resistance to writing! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[echo-rambles]

yours to keep

words: 1,728 tags: bang chan x f!reader, established relationship, fluff, kissing, attempt at humor. mentions of marriage. vague adhd!reader. notes: this is filled with nothing but fluff. tooth rotting fluff almost. I was feeling so incredibly soft for chan and I just had to get this out of my system. also the movie playing in the bg is absolutely kiki's delivery service.

-o0o-

You’ve refreshed the same three social media apps at least four different times each, falling into an incredibly boring spiral of doom scrolling, before you remember that if you’re bored enough you always have a boyfriend you can bother. It’s one of your favorite activities actually. Because he’s such a good sport about it. 

Shifting closer to him on the couch, you perch your chin on his shoulder, pressing close. He immediately leans into your touch, making a small little noise at your proximity. It makes your heart melt a little. 

For a few moments you silently watch him work. Clicking about on his laptop, pulling up various recording and editing programs, adding in and taking out bits of audio. You wonder what the track sounds like, but Chan has his big headphones secured to his head, so all you can do right now is imagine. 

It’s not completely silent. There’s a Studio Ghibli movie playing in the background that neither of you are watching, volume low enough to be nothing but white noise because you kind of extremely hate when there’s long stretches of absolutely no noise. It’s this weird thing your brain does; where it sort of feels all fuzzy and prickly if things are quiet for too long. 

Gently, you push one side of his headphones away from the ear closest to you. “Baby.” 

Chan hums in acknowledgement, but his attention is still focused entirely on his laptop. 

You’d be more annoyed if you weren’t so used to it by now. It’s kind of his job to be attached to it any second of the day that he’s not either preparing to perform or actively performing. Besides, you’re both sitting together and quietly enjoying each other's company while doing your own things and it’s kind of perfect. Except the thing you were working on has steadily lost your attention and now you want to ask your boyfriend a very important question. 

“On a scale of 1-10, how busy are you?” That’s not the question. It’s one of many lead up questions to accurately gauge how invested Chan is in his current project and how easy it will be to distract him. 

Another hum, and you watch his cursor rifle around in several different lists and menus. “Maybe a 6.7? Even 6 if I can find the specific snare I’m looking for in the next few minutes.” 

Below a 7 is promising. “So you can totally pause what you’re doing and give me like, five minutes?” 

Chan clicks around some more, and you recognize a little bit of what he’s doing. Going through the process of saving his progress before shutting his laptop entirely. “Actually, I can give you ten minutes.”

“You’re so generous.” You absolutely take that as your cue to crawl into his lap, taking the place of his computer as he places it somewhere safe off to the side. 

“I think I’ve been staring at the screen too long, my eyes are starting to rebel.” He groans, tipping his head back and scrubbing his palms over his face. 

Of course you still have that very important question to ask him, but he looks so soft and touchable and you really can’t help yourself. Moving his hands away, you lean in, pressing kisses to both of his cheeks, under each eye. To the tip of his nose, and even kissing his dimple when you feel him smile under your mouth. Using your hands to tilt his face, you kiss each side of his jaw. You move back up, placing a kiss to the curve of his forehead. 

Finally, finally, you kiss his mouth. He’s still smiling, but he kisses back happily. 

“Feel better?” 

He nods, eyes still closed. “I think your kisses might be magic.”

“Oh, they absolutely are.” You kiss him again simply because you can. It’s the sort of kiss that makes your bones all liquid and warm. A kiss you can feel in the roots of your teeth and the hinges of your jaw. It makes your stomach flutter, filled to the brim with colorful wings. 

It’s the type of kiss that almost makes you forget the question you wanted to ask him. 

“I actually have a very important question for you.” You declare, placing your hands firmly on his shoulders to try and keep him at arm's length. Lest you be drawn back into that mouth of his. 

Blinking up at you, breathing heavily and gaze a little dizzy, Chan nods. He mirrors the gesture, anchoring his hands at your hips. “Lay it on me, boss.” 

Settling into his lap, you try to ignore how stupidly wrecked he looks. You want to dive back in so badly, but you must stay strong, soldier. 

“If, for some unknown reason, you had to leave me to be with someone else, who would you choose?” 

That, at least, seems to sober him. Instead of looking soft and kiss-drunk, he comes back to himself, the gears behind his eyes starting to turn and grind together as he processes your insane question. 

You like to ask him things like this from time to time. Completely unprompted but thought provoking questions, because they really do feel important. You like to know these things. Not in a paranoid jealous sort of way. It’s all genuine curiosity. You just like to know.

“What kind of question is that? I don’t know. I can’t say I’ve ever thought about leaving you, or being with anyone else.” 

“That is the sweetest sentiment and I need you to know I’m feeling very warm and mushy over it, but it’s also incredibly boring.” 

“Wow, ok. I don’t know! Who would you choose?” He tries to throw the question back at you, but you’re ready. Of course you are; why would you even ask the question without having an answer of your own? 

“Changbin.”

It makes Chan laugh. It knocks its way out of him, causing him to lean to the side just a little bit with the force of it. “No hesitation!”

“No hesitation needed. He’s Seo Changbin.” 

Chan is still laughing. Little giggles as he nods along to your declaration. His fingers press into your waist, slipping between the hem of your shirt and your sweatpants, skin seeking skin. 

He didn’t ask for an explanation, but you have one. Because of course you do. “He’s the type of guy who would probably introduce himself as my boyfriend. Like, he’s the famous one, but I’m not his girlfriend. He’s my boyfriend. Does that make sense?”

“I hate to agree, but it absolutely does.”

“Right! Unfortunately I’m stuck with you.” You ignore his breathy wow, drawn out as he tries his best to not laugh again. “Because you’re the only person who plays into my jokes in the exact way that I enjoy.” 

You make sure to punctuate your explanation with a pout and shrug, truly playing into being overdramatic. Teasing him because it’s fun and easy and all he really does is smile so wide at you. The things you would do for that smile. 

He leans forward, close enough to place a quick kiss to the tip of your nose before he’s settling back into his seat. “Aw, I love you too.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m stupidly in love with you. It’s whatever.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Though,” You start, thoughtfully. “If I had to choose someone to get drunk married to in Vegas, I’d 100% no questions asked, pick Lino.”

Chan leans forward once again, into your space. The tilt of his brow and the line of his mouth spell out genuine concern, and it makes your insides twist up for the briefest of seconds. “Wait, what? Not me? But babe, I want to drunk marry you in Vegas so bad.” 

Ok, that makes you laugh. The weird little guilty knot immediately dissolves at his incredulous tone. “Absolutely not! We’re never getting drunk married in Vegas by some celebrity impersonator. Are you crazy?”

Well now he’s frowning. It makes you want to wrap him up in your arms and never let him go. Tuck him away safely in a spot behind your ribs, where no one can get to him and nothing can hurt him.

You’re smaller than him, not only because you’re shorter by a good few inches, but also in sheer mass and bulk. But you’d try your best. It’s probably a little morbid, and he’d absolutely give you a look if you ever mentioned it out loud. But it’s true nonetheless. 

You’d crack yourself open and rearrange everything if it meant you could fit him perfectly in the space next to your heart. 

Cradling his face in your hands, you make sure that he’s listening, tipping your head to meet his eyes and smoothing your thumb along the swell of his bottom lip. “We’d get sober married, on a beach or something, by one of our very good friends that got their license online!” 

Without missing a beat, Chan is nodding. “Seungmin.” 

“No question. He’d show up with a print out certificate from Ordained.com that he managed to get the night before.”

Chan’s eyes disappear as he laughs, and you press both of your thumbs into the apples of his cheeks as his smile transforms his face. There’s always something about the way Chan smiles that is contagious. Without fail you can’t help but smile too, scrunching up your nose and feeling your heart overflow with love. 

The things you would do for that smile. 

“Hold on. Did you just propose to me?” Chan asks, once his laughter has trickled off into intermittent giggling. You’re still holding his face, and his fingers have fully migrated up under your top to spread out along our back. 

You scoff, shaking your head. “No. We’re too young and you’re too busy for us to be married. Hell no. If anything I pre-proposed to you.”

“Aw, well I accept.”

“Good. We’d have a problem if you didn’t.” 

It’s his turn to pull you into a kiss. Both of your smiles pressing against each other. 

The credits of the movie neither of you were watching have started rolling, the familiar music washing over the both of you, and you could really spend the rest of the night here with him. The rest of the weekend. Maybe even the rest of your lives, some day.

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Nine

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: It’s here! Just figured I’d get it out quick, so I spent ages just writing and then editing! Hope it’s up to par? It’s a long one, again..

Might edit this again when I'm not running on three hours sleep:) x

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

It wasn’t too long after my call with Danny ended that I stepped back through the garden door and into the kitchen, only to find Marshall already there, elbows pressed against the counter as he typed away on his phone. He looked up at the creak of the door and so I smiled in hello, tucking my own phone into my back pocket as I padded on closer, making sure to lock up behind me.

“Danny said his goodbyes and apologised again for his army mates.” I found myself saying with a slight chuckle and watched as Em turned off his phone to set it to the side, pushing up and away from the countertop.

“Was nice to meet him. You speak about him a lot.” Marshall replied with a small smile, the getsure genuine even under the bright lights the kitchen offered. “Kid’s in bed already,” He added with a slight jilt of his chin before his head turned ever so towards the hallway, “You up for another night of tv?”

Grinning, honestly unable to help the action, I widened my eyes and feigned fawning over the very idea, “God, you know how to entertain a woman. Who needs alcohol and a club full of sweaty people when you’ve got Rick Grimes and walkers waiting for you?”

Marshall rolled his eyes in retort, scoffing lightly in amusement, but I did note the uneasy look that crossed his face, even if it only lasted a split second. “Never claimed to be babysittin’ you whilst you’re here. You wanna go out, go ahead.”

It was my turn to gift him an eye roll then, the daft idiot. “And miss the chance of another popcorn fight breaking out? Yeah, I think not.” I said as I waltzed past him, heading straight for the living room we’d invaded the night previous.

I was still searching for the remote when he finally emerged in the doorway behind me, pausing there briefly. It was only once I’d finally caught sight of the stupid thing that he chose to speak up again, “I was bein’ serious, before. You don’t have to stay cooped up here with us.”

The tele had since been turned on, the screen buzzing to life before its loading page flashed up to greet us. My brow furrowed in my stance by the edge of the settee and it stayed even as I turned to spare him a glance from over my shoulder. He looked a little ominous standing there in the shadow of the doorway, the tv being the only thing to shed a small amount of warmth and light into the dark room. 

“Shut up, I was just messing.” I waved off whilst flashing him a wry smile, before I turned back to the tv screen so that I could scroll my way back to the series we’d been watching the night before.

But Marshall didn’t appear to be anymore at peace after hearing the sentiment, his shoulders were tense and his forehead was suddenly littered with slight lines when he decided to bypass me and drop down onto the sofa.

I joined him a couple seconds later, throwing him a wary glance as I clicked on the third episode we’d somehow managed to get to and lowered myself down onto the cushions less than arm's length away.

The show started and for the first ten minutes we sat in a mutual silence, though I couldn’t help but feel as though I’d made a real big misstep with my earlier joke. It was just as the scene shifted again, the library moulding into the prison’s outer fields, that Marshall shifted, using the pillow between us as an excuse to shuffle into a better position, one which left him sitting a whole lot closer than he’d previously been.

My legs had come up to hide beneath me not long after I’d first sat down, so with his new position it just meant that my knees were now almost grazing his own. My eyes flickered between the barely there touch and the tv screen. 

Marshall slumped. Knee pressing further into my own.

I allowed it, wondering if it was purposeful. 

“Sorry.” He murmured after a static moment passed and he didn’t make the effort to move away either. I wondered if that was really what he was apologising for. 

Deciding not to comment on it, I simply shifted so that my head could rest against the back cushion of the couch, leaving my shoulder and side to fall in line with his torso. I felt, more than heard, him look over at me, before his focus was back on the tv screen once more. 

We sat that way for the remainder of that episode, my eyes growing heavier the further in we got. I put it down to the residual lapse in jetlag, but Marshall’s presence and his unusual knack for always being able to radiate body heat like a sodding furnace might have had something to do with it too.

I jerked slightly when I eventually felt my head fall forward, startling myself a tad, and pulled back from the way I’d been just about ready to nod right off. My temple seemed to have caught the curve of Em’s shoulder though on the way down and so I shuffled back a tad to flash him a sleepy smile full of silent apology, to which he merely shook his own head and shifted so that he could offer up his shoulder without words said or questions asked.

My throat grew a little tight at the gesture, never really having had that sort of companionship before, even in the people closest to me, and slowly allowed my chin to droop, almost cautiously as if I was preparing for him to laugh me off. But he didn’t. Simply waited me out, like a person would a stray dog when trying to lure them near.

I must’ve fallen asleep there after a while, which surprised me enough to have me blinking blearily awake again once I’d realised, because the next thing I knew the sofa had shifted and the soft light from the tele had since paused in its stuttering of scenes. 

Sniffing, I attempted to bury myself further into the cushions beneath me, missing the warmth that I’d found there just moments before, but it was then that I heard a light huff of laughter, one which had me rubbing at my eyes only to cast a glance towards it.

Marshall was there, standing over me, one hand on my knee whilst he tried to shake me awake as gently as he could. My gaze caught on the small smile he wore, the same one which appeared to grow when I frowned up at him and then around the room, trying to get a sense for what had happened and where I’d fallen asleep.

A tap to my knee had me looking back at him.

“Missed two episodes.” Marshall mentioned in a low murmur, smirking at the way I wrinkled my nose in turn, “Don’t think I’m rewatchin’ them jus’ ‘cause your ass decided to fall asleep.”

I hummed, still attempting to wrap my head around the fact that I’d just been asleep and was now somewhat awake, whilst simultaneously trying to stay alert enough not to fall back into that blissful state. “Sorry.” I whispered tiredly, barely even aware of the word as it slipped past my lips.

Marshall’s mouth quirked upwards before his head was shaking again, “You’re good, was just kidding.”

I smiled at the thought of him watching the episodes for a third time, just for me, and then giggled a little.

His hand encased my knee again but squeezed gently this time, it was when I looked over at him that I realised I’d let my eyes slip closed again. “Come on, gotta get movin’.”

I dreaded the very thought of moving but knew even in my dreary state that I couldn’t stay curled up on the sofa, so I inhaled quietly and moved to nod my head, taking the hand that wasn’t holding my leg and allowing it to hoist me up.

Marshall was smooth and considerate in the way he helped guide me up, letting me lean into his side as he turned off the tv, leaving only the nearby lamp to light our way out of the living room and into the hallway. I stumbled slightly on the small step that separated the two adjacent rooms but Marshall was there again, arm wrapped tightly around my middle whilst his other hand gripped my own, to keep me steady. 

I blinked a little more at the almost fall, allowing myself to pause and squeeze my eyes shut tight enough that when I opened them again the world was a little less blurred at the edges. “I’m knackered.” I ended up saying, voice carrying in a dull whisper.

Em responded with a light snort, the hand at my hip squeezing a fraction as we started up the staircase. “This gone be a usual thing with you, me carryin’ you to bed?” He wondered, though even in my sleepy state I could tell that the ask was more humorous than anything slightly related to irritation. 

Still, the question reminded me of the night before when he’d also helped aid me up the stairs. The image of his smirking face flashed to the forefront of my mind at the prompt, the way he had waited for me to step beyond my bedroom door before he’d finally allowed himself to walk away. Tomorrow, he’d said whilst my fingers had toyed with the door’s handle.

“No.” I murmured then to his question, sniffing as I slumped further in his hold, wondering over the steps and why he had so many of them. “Normally I’m a night owl. Don’t sleep much.” I added in explanation, the words accompanied by another sleepy smile that had him gazing down at me. 

Marshall hummed but was quiet as we moved up onto the landing, it was only when we reached my door that he shifted ever so to get it open, the handle clunking back up again in his haste to keep me upright against his side. I murmured another quiet apology.

“Stop sayin’ sorry, dummy.”

I snorted at the term, eyes slipping closed again, “Is that meant to be endearing?”

His tut echoed throughout the bedroom and it was then that I realised I was perched on the end of the king size bed. I blinked, but instead of peering around the rest of the room, my eyes caught on him and the way he was now pulling back the sheets, reshuffling the many pillows on the other end. 

My lips rolled against one another before I thought to say something, “Too many.”

Marshall peered back at me from where he was stood leaning over the bed, one knee pressed into the mattress. I wondered briefly if he knew how good he looked then, before he spoke again, brow raised. “What?”

“Pillows.” I muttered, hand flapping lazily over to the mountain.

For a long second he just stayed there, eyes turning towards the top of the bed before they met mine once more. I rubbed at my face to hide an oncoming yawn. He waited another second before pillows started to fly.

Startled by the soft thuds they made when they hit the floor, I watched on as he windled the stack down to a simple two, fluffing them before his head was turning towards me once more. “Good?”

His voice was ever so soft, all kind and gentle like. It made the words I felt like saying get stuck in my throat and a light flush to paint my cheeks, I nodded. 

It was then that he tilted his head in a gesture for me to move, smiling to himself as I rolled over the top of the duvet to settle on the sheeted mattress beneath. I flashed him another tired grin after settling in, wriggling beneath the sheets to get comfy and fight away the cold that had crawled in beside me.

My face seemed to crease after that and I tugged at the duvet to get the bed frame to release its bottom end. Marshall caught on quick enough and pulled it free for me whilst I shuffled out of the trousers I’d yet to take off. He blinked at the sight of the fabric which appeared a moment later, before he snorted to himself and offered to take them, stepping away to fold them up and place them down on the dresser nearby.

“All good?” He asked once again. I glanced back at him from under the cocoon I’d created and took in the softness of his smile, the way his hands were now folded politely behind his back, and how he was simply just waiting for me to answer him, as though he had all the time in the world and wasn’t fighting off sleep himself. 

I nodded, my chin hidden beneath the covers but my returning smile was able to be seen in the slight curve of my cheeks. “Good.” I whispered. Then, feeling a little silly, I added, “Sorry for–”

He waved the end of my sentence off, stepping closer to the bed as he reached out, ready to turn off the bedside lamp. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Makes me feel useful.” Smirking, his fingers grasped the lamp’s cord but he didn’t move to pull it just yet.

“Still,” I pushed, eyes growing heavier once more now that I was surrounded by the weighted quilt that seemed to be hellbent on capturing all the heat that it could, “Thank you, I don’t usually..”

Marshall’s smirk dimmed ever so into something more thoughtful, “Means a lot that you trust me. Don’t stress about where you fall asleep.”

Trust. Wasn’t that a funny fucking thing.

The lamp was off and he was walking away before I could utter a reply to that, and it was only when the door creaked open a tad bit further to let him have his escape that I let the weight of his words sink in. 

It was a maddening thought to realise that I did trust him. Wholeheartedly. And that was probably the strangest thing.

–

I could not for the life of me have told you where I was, let alone what the time it could have possibly been, when I roused from my coma-like state. 

The first thing I noted was that the curtains had all been closed and the jumper I’d worn last night had since been tossed to the floor alongside a plethora of pillows. It was slow going, pulling myself up and into a sitting position, letting the duvet pool around my hips when I attempted to get my brain to function properly again. 

It was another minute or two before I found the strength to roll over and make a grab for my phone, only to find that it had since been plugged into the outlet by the bedside table to charge. My brow pinched at the sight, not recalling having put it on charge, but still I reached out to grab it. 

The light I was met with had me wincing before I managed to adjust, eyes widening slightly at the time I was shown. Almost eleven. Wow, it was honestly somewhat of an achievement for me, seeing as the bouts of insomnia I often wavered through had me falling asleep far too late and waking far too early. I figured all the flying and the hectic schedule I’d had before landing in Detroit had finally caught up to me.

My mind short circuited at the reminder. Detroit. Marshall.

“Shit.” I hissed, dropping the phone down onto the mattress as I willed myself to get out of bed. 

I tried to remember what had transpired after talking to Danny, how I’d let myself be lulled by the tv and the comfort of the man sat beside me. 

Dragging a hand over my face, I felt a bout of embarrassment flutter through me, feeling oddly caught out at having let someone see me so exposed. My legs dangled over the edge of the bed for a long moment before I finally found the energy to move, pulling my body over towards the bathroom and into the shower before I could regret the decision. Any of them, including both the night befores and the choice to not linger any longer in my pit. 

The shower worked wonders for waking me up that little bit more, pushing the last remnants of sleep from my mind as I stood under its spray. It was then that I found myself feeling thankful again for Marshall and all his odd eccentricities, for him being the overanalyzing type and having had the guest bath stocked with not just the necessities most would need, but the ones he figured I’d like, seeing as the theme was a mix of vanilla and coconut– something I’d mentioned after I’d gotten a delivery of candles a couple weeks prior.

I tried to push the thoughts of how endearing that whole mess was, the fact that he’d gone and remembered, as I stepped out and made quick work of getting ready for the day, forgoing drying my hair so that I could slip into the baggiest jeans I owned and a soft tee that often slipped over the curve of my shoulder. 

The house was oddly quiet when I slipped past the bedroom door and down the steps, once again forcing thoughts of last night out of my head, of his grip, the soft smiles we shared, the–

I took a much needed breath when I reached the bottom, swivelling on my heel to cast a glance about. I knew that Rosie must have already been at school even without me not spotting her bag or shoes by the door, but I was still left with the feeling of longing I often experienced whenever I woke up to find that Lottie had since left. 

Pushing on though, I noted that the house didn’t have that familiar chill I was used to enduring back home. The English weather was a mess of emotions even on summer days where the sun shone brightly, so it was nice not to be shivering my way into the kitchen and over to the kettle. 

It was after doing exactly that though, that I spotted a small post-it stuck to the fridge door.

(Dropped off Z, in the studio if you need me. Eat!  - Em)

Snorting softly at it, I tore the note down and let the corner press into the pad of my forefinger for a second or two. It was nice, having someone care enough to not want me to worry. Even the whole Eat! had me grinning, so used to running on fumes and pure anxiety that I often forgot. It was strange to note that it was a habit he’d picked up on, or perhaps I was just thinking too much into it. Maybe it was just him being personable.

Still, I folded the post-it up and slid it into the back of my phone case all the same. Not stopping to think twice about the why as I looked up at the kettle’s violent whistle.

I moved through my usual morning motions with an ease that shouldn’t have felt effortless in a kitchen that was not mine, but I did, walking to sit at the island not long after I’d procured myself a cup of tea and some toast. 

I took to scrolling through my phone, checking Twitter for updates on friends back home and then moving over to Netflix to see if there were any new series that had dropped and appeared worth watching. 

It was during that time that my phone soon rang. With one glance at the name I was wearing a mad grin and swiping to answer, “Well, isn’t this a surprise!”

A short scoff could be heard from the other side of the line before a familiar lilt trailed through, “And here I thought I was going to be met with love and a plethora of questions about my wellbeing. But no, only your sincerest sarcasm!” Lottie sighed theatrically, as though she wasn’t defeating the entire purpose behind her whole spiel.

“It’s seemingly a familial trait.” I quipped with a fond roll of my eyes, “But I have missed hearing your voice, texts don’t make up for much.”

“And what about my short videos?” Lottie replied with enough emotion behind her voice that I could already guess that she was raising one brow and pursing her lips. “Did they not suffice enough?”

“You mean the three second clips you keep sending me?” I laughed around a sip of tea, thinking back to the latest one I’d received the very same morning, “I don’t think me seeing your knee and hearing a Rihanna song play in the background is the same thing as knowing you’re alright back there.”

“Is too, and there were others!” Lottie immediately defended before a few other voices trailed through, “How about the one of me in Maths, hey?”

My face flattened at the reminder, “You mean the one of you gettin’ your phone taken away by your teacher?”

“Yes! See, all was fine, even Ms Plait reckoned so.” She quipped, the glee which lined her tone was oh so audible. “Did you not see that lovely smile of hers?”

I almost choked on my next chuckle, not having expected the comment, “Oh yeah, I saw. She still looks the same as the last time I saw her, face like a slapped arse and with one too many missing teeth.” Lottie sniggered and once again those voices from earlier followed, “You on your way home?” I wondered, looking down at the time and noting that she should have already left school by now.

“Yeah, just walking with Shan and Tea.” Her answer was followed by a loud hurrah of hellos from the pair that had me smiling.

“Heya girls, hope you’re all alright!” I greeted, listening to them ramble away for a couple of minutes about this and that, throwing me back to the days where the two girls had first come over to visit Lotts. 

Time got away from me a little after that, leaving me with an almost finished but cold brew and the remnants of my toast that I soon got up to throw and wash away whilst Lottie and her mates said their goodbyes so that they could part ways.

“You’re having a good time then?” I found myself asking once Lotts had finished speaking about her school day, “Nothing I should worry about?”

I could practically feel the roll of her eyes as she huffed, “Yes, Lia. Honest. I’ve been keeping you updated, Mila too, whenever she texts– even Danny called yesterday! Did you meet those knobheads he calls friends? The Irish one’s well fit.”

Pursing my lips to keep from smiling, I shook my head at her antics. “I did and need I remind you, you’re fourteen?”

“I was just stating a fact!” Lottie argued, her voice unable to be drowned out even by the car that then passed, “God, you’d think you didn’t know me at all.” She tacked on, her tone teasing enough that I knew she wasn’t too bothered by the fact that she’d been called out. 

“Know you too well.” I rebuked half-heartedly and then smiled at the response I was met with. 

“Too much like you.”

“A shame that,” I snorted as I took back to sitting at the counter, eyes caught on the length of land that stretched out beyond the back door.

“Slander.” Lottie sniped, “But also the truth.”

We shared a chuckle even as I rolled my eyes, which led me onto the next topic of conversation I’d been wanting to bring up since my phone call with Danny in New York, “How’s things working out at Mum’s then?”

A pause followed that question. One that went on a second too long and had my shoulders tensing. 

“Lotts?”

“Hm? Sorry, was just– crossing the road, you know.” 

“Don’t lie. Tell me what’s going on before I hop on a plane and find out for myself.” I threatened, eyes catching on the island countertop as I pressed the phone closer to my ear, as though by doing so it would somehow allow me to be that little bit closer to her. 

“So dramatic,” Lottie joked but it fell flat, what with my impatience and the lack of humour which lined her tone. She sighed, “Dad got out early.”

My whole world seamlessly fell apart at those four words.

I couldn’t form a coherent thought let alone any real words, so it was only Lottie’s voice calling my name that had me blinking back out of my frozen stance and inhaling sharply. “What?”

She coughed, either to clear her throat or to buy herself a little more time, I didn’t know, but couldn’t bring myself to care. “He– well, he’s on parole. Got out about a week ago. Staying with Mum, sort of.”

“Sort of?” I jumped out of the barstool I’d taken up to begin treacherously pacing. For a brief moment I wondered whether it was possible for me to wear away the pattern in Marshall’s kitchen tiles. “What are you on about, Lottie? He’s serving sixteen years.”

A heavy sigh. “Obviously he got out on good behaviour then, served just over fourteen, din’t he?” 

I swallowed thickly, a motion which flipped my stomach and had me threatening to throw up the toast I’d just eaten. “Good fucking behaviour, him?” I scoffed out a laugh that was entirely mirthless, “And she’s just let him back, has she? I thought she was done with him the second he was inside!”

Lottie didn’t say anything to that, or for a while longer. It took me a minute to notice what with how seething I was. 

I forced myself to take a breath, because this wasn’t about me. Then started to think a bit more rationally.

“Look, I’ll look up flights now, yeah? I can be home by tonight, or tomorrow morning if I’m lucky. I don’t know yet. Just have to contact Mila, then talk with Marsh– Shit.”

Marshall, what was I going to tell Marshall? 

“Elia.”

Blinking, my reeling thoughts were immediately stopped by the sound of my sister’s voice, soft but demanding. She waited and I was left to tug a hand through my still damp hair.

“Listen, please don’t come back.”

What?

“What?” I croaked out, the ground having been ripped out from under me.

“It’s working.” Lottie replied, her voice still soft, trying to be kind. “I mean, I’ve stayed with Shan some nights but I’ve been staying at the house too. And it’s– it’s not bad, El. It’s nice even, to get to know him and things. Like at my own pace and whatnot.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“He’s changed apparently. Mum reckons so anyway, it’s what she told me.” Lottie continued on, filling the silence I’d left her with whilst my entire planet shifted, “Not so angry, or sad. Just tryna find a job and stuff, so he can follow the rules of his probation or something. Not sure. Din’t ask too much about it. He’s staying with Mum but he keeps to himself when he’s not trying to make amends and crap. Make up for lost time.”

Staying with Mum. In my fucking house, the very same one I’d paid for. That fucking scummy shitheaded cun– 

I forced myself to breathe. 

“El, it’s working out. I–” Lottie said, then took a second. When she spoke again, she sounded so small, her voice almost pleading, “He’s my Dad, Elia. I just want the chance to know him.”

My hand fell from my hair to cover my mouth, desperate to keep the sob that wanted to escape from being heard down the line. I swallowed it back, gave a shaky exhale, but eventually nodded. Even if it was just to myself. 

“Okay, Lotts.” I heard myself say, somehow. “Okay, yeah. That’s, it’s fair.”

I was rewarded with a big huff of air, one that told me I’d done the right thing, that she was relieved to hear me say that it was all fine. “Thanks, El! Knew you’d understand.”

I didn’t. I don’t, I wanted to say.

“Yeah, ‘course, Lotts. He’s your,” I swallowed again, the walls of my throat itching, hands shaking ever so slightly, “–Dad. If it’s what you want then, yeah. Who am I to stop you?”

Who am I? 

Violent flashes flooded my mind, words, voices. Then I was back in the kitchen again.

“Just, promise me, Lottie. Promise me that anything happens, you call me. You call Mila. You call Dan. Okay? Anyone. Anyone who can get to me. I’ll be there.” I told her in a low murmur, the desperation I felt seeping through but I didn’t take enough note of it to care. This was too important. “Promise me, Lotts.”

I could hear her smile in her next words, “Promise, El. Always. I love you.”

“Yeah, kiddo. I love you, too.”

…

I don’t know how much time passed after the call dropped, leaving me with nothing but the light spatter of rain that knocked against the house. But soon enough I was startled from where I’d been standing by the window in some sort of trance, staring down at the phone I still held in my hand. 

I looked up so fast it almost hurt, but my alarmed look softened when I noticed it was just Marshall stood there, a slight furrow marring the skin between his brows. “Figured I’d come find you.”

My eyes slipped closed as I jilted my chin in reply, taking a much needed breath before casting another glance out across the garden. My mind was stuck on my conversation I’d had with Lottie, on thoughts of home and plans that would ultimately fall through.

A hand encased my elbow. “Yo, you good?” Marshall was still there, having ducked his head a tad to better look into my glossy eyes, that frown more prominent than it had been just moments before.

I stared back at him and felt my lip wobble, before I took another short breath and put on a smile, hoping it was sort of semi-convincing seeing as I nodded in retort. Must have been a tough fucking wish though because he levelled me with an expression that ultimately called out on all my bullshit. 

“You wanna try that again?”

I casted my eyes downwards and chewed on the inside of my cheek, feeling the way his hand inched up my arm before he eventually wrapped me up in his hold, letting me bury my head in the curve of his shoulder. My eyes squeezed tightly shut and even though I didn’t move to hug him back, I sagged into his hold, which must have told him enough to keep the two of us standing there. 

“Who was on the phone?” He queried after a short while, fingers trailing over the small of my back almost subconsciously, but the gesture was enough to soothe the well in my throat and the chaos I had going on inside my mind.

“Lottie.” I answered, voice meek even to my own ears.

His chest moved with each breath he took, legs spread just far enough apart that his feet encased my own, and he smelt so familiar that it made me wonder just how quickly I’d grown to be comforted by it. Was that even normal?

“You need to head back?” He wondered out loud, the parent in him jumping out at the thought of something having happened with my sister, “You can use the jet, I can get Paul on it now.”

It amused me to no end to understand the lengths he’d go to help not just me, but my family too, warmed me completely in fact, but the offer also left me feeling lost. Because even though I would have left the second Lottie asked, I would have been devastated to leave. 

I shook my head where it rested against his shoulder, pressing my forehead to the joint there before I spoke, “No,” I told him, the syllable wavering, “Just– she asked me to stay.”

“Right.” Marshall said quietly, though it felt like he’d forced the word out, “And you don’t want to?” He questioned, trying to understand.

My head shook once more, “It’s complicated.”

His hold tightened by a fraction and we stayed that way for a long second, then two, before he drew back to get a good look at me. “You wanna talk?”

I couldn’t stand to look into his eyes in that moment, far too fearful that I’d just end up crying then and there, so I sniffed instead and glanced off to the side. “Just complicated, I guess.” I muttered, repeating myself whilst trying so very hard not to think about the anxiety I felt over leaving Lottie there, thousands of miles away from me.

“Well, complicated’s my middle fuckin’ name.” Em replied and I couldn’t help it, the stupidness of it made me laugh and I knuckled at his stomach in retort, dropping my eyes. But he stilled my hands, holding them close so that I would finally look up at him, “Mean it.”

I already knew that though.

I peered down at our hands, the way my fists were now pressed against his chest, his bigger than my own and all but swallowing them whole.

“Lottie’s dad.” Is what I found myself saying, eyes locked on the tribal tattoo that encased his wrist. Em nodded gently, the gesture moving his torso as he shifted beneath my hands. 

The muscle of my cheek was all torn up from where I’d been chewing away in my anxious mess, stressing over it all, and so I tried my best to keep from biting at it once more, not wanting to cut too deep. But even so, the notion typically centred me so I was now at a loss for how to process the plethora of thoughts that kept running through my head like a freight train at full speed. 

Marshall seemed to sense this though, because not a second later were his thumbs running over the ridge of my knuckles. I felt my hands slacken a bit in their fisted hold. 

“Well, you know how I mentioned he was inside? That first day I was here.” I finally continued, moving to peer back up at him again, only to find that he was already watching me, the blue of his eyes a shock to the system. I shook my head slightly and took another deep breath, “He got out, parole apparently. For good behaviour,” I scoffed at the very reminder but pushed on, “He’s staying with my mum and so that ultimately means Lottie too. Seeing as I’m not there.”

Marshall had since stilled in his entirety, I wasn’t even sure if he was breathing with how suddenly motionless he went, but then his chin dipped and his thumbs resumed their gentle caress. “And she said not to go back?” He asked, clarifying. 

I shook my head. “She–” I tried to get the words out but had to pause, if only for a second, to actually form them, “She wants to get to know him. Says he’s alright now, that he’s changed.” My eyes rolled on their own accord at that, not believing it for a second, “And well, who would I be to deny her that, hey? I mean, I know how she felt, never knew my dad, but she has a chance, you know? She’d hate me if I took it from her. Even if I know better.”

I slumped when I was finally able to take another much needed breath, inhaling deep enough to dislodge the heaviness that weighed on my chest but not enough to clear it completely.

Em tugged on my wrists lightly and so I peered back at him, aware of the seriousness he had since taken on. “What’s that mean, know better?” He asked and I had to pretend I didn’t reel back from him, like it hadn’t been the first reaction to the reminder that simultaneously crossed my mind. “Hey,” He tugged again, even gentler than he had before but enough to draw back my gaze, “You don’t gotta tell me shit, but,” He paused, eyes flitting between my own, “I’m here, okay?”

Nodding, incapable of doing much else, I said, “I know.”

He gifted the tiny beginnings of a smile sincere enough to have me pressing my nails into the curve of my palms. “Is she safe? With him there.” He clarified and I could only blink up at him, he waited me out.

“I think so. I–” I stuttered, memories hitting me again. I tried to brush them away, but failed. “He wouldn’t hurt her, I know that.”

Just you then. 

The words went unsaid but the look in his eyes told me all I needed to know. His hold lessened until I was able to let my hands drop to my sides. Marshall cleared his throat but I saw the way his hands fisted as he stepped away, “Was gone ask to work in the studio today, but we can just chill instead. Or you can do your own thing.”

I was quick to shake my head, already onboard with the studio idea. “No, studio sounds good. Keep my mind off shit.” I replied, looking down to check my phone and biting my lower lip when no new notifications from Lottie had come through.

“You sure?” Marshall prodded and when I looked over to him it almost appeared as though he was appraising me under a newfound light, behind the carefully guarded fortress that was his gaze. 

Trying not to frown, I nodded again in assurance. “Yeah, just lemme text her again, and maybe Mila, then I’ll be right there.”

He continued to watch me for a second longer and it was only as I was about to say something about it, that he moved. “I’ma grab some drinks. You have a preference?”

Blowing out a breath, I shrugged lightly, “Water, juice, anything really. I don’t mind.”

Marshall seemed to take that as an incentive to grab a majority of the fridge, loading it all up on the counter beside him before he let the door swing close behind him. I raised a brow after having pulled up Mila’s contact and bit back the obvious laugh that wanted to escape when he mimicked the gesture, “What?”

“You good to carry all that?”

He glanced over to the plethora of bottles he’d procured and then back to me, “Two trips.” He declared as he swiped half of the contents into his arms.

I laughed at the picture he made, wondering how easy it was for him to flip my moods entirely. “We don’t need that many!”

“If I could, I’d flip you off right now.” Was the only reply I was given as he wandered out of the kitchen. 

I let go of a sigh as I moved back to glance down at my phone again.

Messages  To: Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  Did you know?  About Lottie?

It only took a second before those familiar three dots were littering the bottom of my screen. Though in fairness, her phone was basically her fulltime job.

Messages  Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  Everything’s fine. I told her not to worry you.

I couldn’t stop the scowl that overwhelmed my face at her response.

Messages  To: Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  You serious? How was that your decision to make mila??

Messages  Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  I care about the both of you. It wasn’t a split second decision, it was something I talked to Lottie about at length. She was the one who asked me to wait until I told you.  I didn’t want it to interfere with what we had going on. 

The fury which licked through me at her reply made her words feel too ingenuine. 

Messages  To: Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  Still not your fucking choice to make You should have told me You’re my manager, not her mother

Messages  Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  Oh is all I am then? A manager? I thought we were closer than that, at least it felt that way when you went and entrusted Lottie to me, when you gave me that trust and asked me not to regret it. This is me trying, El. I didn’t choose to be the person to mediate between you both, that just came with the job. If you don’t like how I dealt with it, then maybe you should rethink having me in your sister's life.

Messages  To: Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  Is this your way of guilt tripping me? I just can’t believe you didn’t mention it, not once! You are my manager mila, but I thought you were my friend first and foremost Using me being here as an excuse, with you not wanting to use something like Lottie’s father coming back into her life to intervene with my work? Is just beyond wild. I really can’t believe you didn't tell me

Messages  Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  I thought I was doing best by the both of you. Just call me, Elia.  Please?

Messages  To: Mila (Master/Manager/Obi-wan?)  I need some time to think Maybe later

I quickly switched back to my messages with Lottie, inhaling sharply when I saw that she’d replied to my last text. 

Messages  To: Lottiebug 🐞 I love you loads and I wanna be there for you But I know you need to do this on your own I’m just worried Always worry about you, bug, but this is something I really didn't prepare for

Messages  Lottiebug 🐞 I’m sorry I didn’t tell u Just figured it would be easier to wait til u got back Maybe u could meet him then, see how good it is My stomach rolled at the thought of being close to that man again, but I pushed through and didn’t linger on thoughts of me at sixteen. 

Messages  To: Lottiebug 🐞 I can get a flight home anytime If you want me, I’m a phone call away You know that right?

Messages  Lottiebug 🐞 I know but this is something I need to do On my own Like I love u Els, but this is for me to do

She knew where to hit where it hurt, I supposed, as I stared down at the messages that had come through not thirty seconds after my own. 

Messages  To: Lottiebug 🐞 Promise me, Lottie Anything happens, you call me

Messages  Lottiebug 🐞 Nothing will happen but I promise Promise to also call u before bed tonite yh?

I bit down hard on my cheek at the reassurance, which did nothing to reassure me, and felt the first ebb of blood, the way its metallic taste fled over my tongue in a haste to flood its entirety. Silently I cursed myself, but before I knew it my thumbs were flying over my screen again. 

Messages  To: Lottiebug 🐞 Okay Love you, bug x

Messages  Lottiebug 🐞 Love u more weirdo!! Xxxx

I guessed that it would just have to do for now.

A creak had me looking up and to no one’s surprise Marshall had come back for the second half of drinks, so I pocketed my phone after making sure that it was on alert and not the usual silent, then moved to meet him at the counter. “Want help?” 

His eyes narrowed at the offer and he was quick to swipe the lot of them up, “I said two trips.”

Shaking my head, I could do nothing but follow the idiot. Hoping to whoever was out there that the time in the studio would do me some good and allow me to leave thoughts of the past behind. For a while at least. 

–

The studio was just a rather large portion of the lower level of Marshall’s house. It was decked out though, kitted with all the latest works and better than a majority of studios I’d worked in, truthfully. But it also had this homey sort of feel that allowed the music to flow a lot better simply due to the atmosphere that offered a familiar comfort.

“You got it?”

I let the door close slowly behind me, trying not to let its heavy weight cause a slam, before I trailed my way back on over to where Marshall was sat on one of the two black couches. They were leather and sleek, but their obvious expense was muted by the multiple layers of blankets and pillows he had lining them.

I glanced at him and held up the bound book I had in hand, having darted up the stairs to pull it from my case when I realised he wanted to work through lyrics first thing. 

A majority of my thoughts were often jotted down in one notebook or another, but the notes app was a saviour for whenever an idea struck me and my book wasn’t near. I’d brought just the one on this trip, seeing as I’d been using it for the last two years and it was as thick as an actual brick. But back home I had about twelve others littering an old shelf in a room I mostly used for storage. The pleasures of having a house with rooms you didn’t really need, I figured.

Marshall’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of it, wrapped and bound in a thick wire to keep the pages from spilling open. I smirked in turn, wandering closer to slump down in the seat beside him, his laptop and the many pages he already had scattered about.

“You said book, not doorstop.” He mentioned when I turned to him, eyes still caught on the thing. 

I thumped him with it before I placed it down by his laptop. 

“Jesus.” He huffed, hand coming up to rub the arm I’d hit, before he made a reach for it. 

I cringed silently in wait, it was one thing to write in the thing but there were all sorts of odd bits and bobs in that book; from little receipts from dinners that had inspired songs to bottle caps and Polaroids that had written me albums.

“Be careful,” I hurried when his fingers unwound the strap I’d had to superglue twice in the past month alone, “It’s basically–”

“Falling apart?” Marshall finished for me.

I smiled sheepishly in turn, shoulders jutting upwards in a shrug. “Yeah.” 

He huffed a small laugh whilst I thinned my lips to keep from chuckling along with him. 

A normal person wouldn’t have really known where to start with a notebook this size, especially seeing as the pages were both upside down and back to front, having been written in haphazardly over the years and oftentimes stuck back together. But it was also due to the first few pages being all blacked out and slightly torn, an artistic choice I’d claim over the truth of my hatred for the words that had once marked it, as well as the paw prints of a mate’s dog who had won a battle of tug of war with it.

But Marshall had never once claimed to be conventional and so he headed straight for the middle where a large photo had been stuck in, surrounded by a multitude of signatures, drawings and markings. “What’s this?”

At his question, I followed his gaze down to where his fingers toyed with the book, fighting against gravity to keep the remaining pages from spilling over.

“Mostly from people I’ve worked with over the past year or two. Musicians, writers, producers, even got a couple roadies too. But there are some markings from mates– like, see that little picture of a cow, right there? That was my friend Fran, she does tattoos and the like, figured it would be a nice addition. She’s beyond talented though, did this massive mural for me back home.” I paused to look the rest of them over, then reached out to point at a signature floating nearby, “That there is David’s little hello, a smiley face alongside a couple drops of his coffee.”

“As in Bowie?” Marshall asked me, eyes caught and flitting over everything else the page had to offer.

I blew out a small chuckle but nodded, “Yeah, it was just before his 25th album came out. He was proper lovely, only got to talk to him for a few minutes though.”

Marshall hummed and then tapped a finger against a stark green ink that blotted a corner of the page, “This one?”

“Matty Healy. Worked with him on the last release. He just drew a massive knob because he is one.” I replied, thinking back to last time I’d been in London and spotted him and some of the band in a Soho nightclub. “They released their own album a month or so before your last. It’s their first but they’re brilliant.”

He hummed again, so I wasn’t sure as to whether he knew who the fuck I was going on about, but before I could explain a little, Em grabbed my attention once more, gesturing towards the page’s main focus, the picture. “How old were you here?”

I scratched the side of my neck and thought about it, “I wanna say twenty-two? Maybe? Don’t quote me on that though, but yeah, around that age.”

The picture was a cutout from the Camden New Journal at one of my bigger gigs, just after I’d been scouted in the bar I’d been working at. It was a snap of me and the small band I’d worked with once we’d finished our set, the crowd throwing pints up in the air whilst they’d started to crowd the stage. It was a picture I had framed back at the house as well as in a few of my other notebooks. It was something I turned to whenever I felt as though I was failing, or feeling uninspired.

Marshall’s thumb grazed lazily over its corner for a moment before he finally moved to turn the page, eyes instantly taking in the sudden change of pace. This page was scattered; it held a lollipop wrapper in one corner from a song I’d written about well, lollipops and the like, a couple of verses that were upside down and in luminous pink, and then there was another bout of lyrics from a whole different session marked down in dark blue that were written sideways.

“Your mind’s as fucked as mine.”

I snorted at the phrasing but decided to take it as a compliment, “Thanks.”

He shook his head and then started carding his way through the rest of the book, picking out the lyrics he recognised from songs of mine, as well as a few others he liked. It went on like that for a while, the two of us getting consumed in ideas and metaphors, the way we could play with words and shape them into something or other. 

An hour or two had to have passed before Marshall started pulling up different beats he’d been working on, explaining the samples used and the many layers that had been mixed in. I found myself liking a handful of them, even going as far as to start a harmony on one that Em appeared to tally down on a page he had laying out nearby. 

“So, you gone rap then?”

The question, however off-guard it caught me, was one that had me rolling my eyes, “You gonna sing?” I snarked back, my words sounding almost like a dare.

His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip before they quirked up into a smirk, “I can’t sing. You though, you can spit.”

I shook my head and snorted, pulling the lyrics we’d scrounged up closer to me and purposefully not thinking about the notes I had stored away in my phone. 

“Don’t be like that.” Marshall prodded, shifting in his position to nudge me with his elbow, “Jus’ think about it. This could be the time to experiment. You say your label wants something different, something to garner attention on your next record, right? So.. this here, it’s just me and you. No one else. And I’m only gone judge you if you’re really crappy.”

“Oh, and that makes me wanna try so much more!” I enthused, letting my songbook spring back open as I pulled away– the thing honestly had a mind of its own.

Marshall tutted, “Come on.”

I sighed, but did end up looking back over to him. “You’re a dick.”

He raised his eyebrows in retort, then decided to try a new tactic. “Fine, how ‘bout this. You rap something of mine. Then I’ll sing one o’ yours.”

I blinked, unsure if I'd heard him correctly. “You're shitting me.”

Marshall just shook his head, “You in or out?”

My eyes flickered between his, mouth slightly agape. But found I couldn’t turn down the offer. “Alright, but I get to choose what song.”

“For me or you?” 

I flashed him a sly grin, “Both.”

He let go of a long breath but ultimately decided that the term was worth it, “Aight, bet.”

And so that was how I got to start rapping Rabbit Run in the middle of Marshall’s home studio, the beat playing throughout the room whilst the man himself watched on from the couch with a slow growing grin on his face. 

I got so into it that I ended up working my way through the entirety of the song, bouncing away and playing up to the freedom of it just being the two of us.

“Whoo, go on!” Em hollered loudly once the final lyric had come and the beat had ended, kicking his feet against the floor whilst I laughed and shook my head at the reaction. It was in moments like these that I could often forget that he was marginally one of the biggest rappers of our generation. 

When he was like this, all goofy and happy, he was just Em. 

“Good now?” I asked around another chuckle, my nose wrinkling as I moved to sag back into my seat, hating how my cheeks had flushed at being the centre of attention as well as his praise. 

“Good? Girl, you’re rappin’ on this record even if it kills me!” Marshall stated, blowing a breath out around his grin, the one I’d grown accustomed to only seeing in rare and few moments.

“Fuck off.” I huffed, but even with the harsh words I was still smiling, just sheepish in the face of his applause.

“I’m bein’ for real. You got talent. When you’re up there, you just go for it ‘cause it’s fun. It’s all a joke to you, and you like bein’ in on it. But you’re good.” Marshall told me, having turned in his stance so that he could gesture along to his words, only furthering his point. “You don’t even know it.”

I rolled my eyes and tried to look away, wanting to hide the warmth that failed to leave me as I waved off his words with a hand that he then caught with his own, tugging on my arm until I looked back at him. 

“Trust me on this.” 

Just hearing those words, I was instantly reminded of the night before. Means a lot that you trust me.

His eyes were so imploring that I couldn’t cope with it, so I smiled and let his fingers slip from my grasp. “This you trying to back out of our deal, Mathers? ‘Cause if I remember rightly, you still owe me a song.“

Marshall shook his head ever so, but let me get away with the change in subject, moving forward so that he could push himself to his feet. I slid closer to his laptop and headed to YouTube quickly to find an instrumental that someone had made of one of my songs. I looked through them all until I grinned and decided on an older work. 

“Ready?” I asked over the screen. He simply flipped me off in return, so I huffed around a smirk and pressed play, letting the track croon out of the surrounding speakers. 

Good Company was a song I’d written long before I’d gone and gotten signed. It was rough and full of soul, but was easy enough to sing along to if you missed the high runs on the bridge. It juxtaposed the best and worst parts of me, but concentrated on me only ever showing those worse and bitter parts of myself to those I loved most. It wasn’t one the label had liked at first but it grew on you, and though it hadn’t been a chosen single it had actually managed to make it onto the Top Ten when the album had debuted. It was a favourite of mine and to hear Marshall attempt to sing and not butcher it that badly, well, it was sort of like a dream come true.

“Why the fuck do you claim you can’t sing?” I announced the second the song came to a close. Because I honestly had to give it to him, even with the slight laughter he’s started out with, Marshall had truly given it his best. He’d pranced around like a div (which had just told me that he’d seen the music video) and had actually attempted to hit those higher notes that even I sometimes struggled with when playing live.

“‘Cause I can’t.” Marshall scoffed, panting slightly as he fell back onto the couch, fiddling with the rim of his hat whilst he took the spare second to catch his breath. 

“Don’t lie! You can. Bit pitchy at times,” He extended his arm out to swat me at that, yet I still continued on, “But you’re good, Marsh! We should harmonise together.”

He rolled his eyes at the very idea, but kept them shut when he pulled his hands up to rest on his stomach. I smiled at the sight. 

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me just yet, old man.” I prompted, “We’ve got work to do.”

Marshall’s foot struck out to kick at my ankle, which was deserving, I supposed. Still, I returned the hit with just enough force to get him up and moving again. He sighed in resignation and then reached for the glasses he had laid out, swivelling his hat round so that he could look over the few sheets we’d complied.

Struck at the sight of him in his wired frames and backwards cap, I had to literally tear my eyes away and down onto the paper I was handed before he could catch me looking. He was none the wiser. 

“We’ve got some good shit. But ‘s not enough.” Marshall mentioned after a minute or so of silently debating, his eyes wracking over the sprawled lyrics we’d produced. 

I chewed on my lower lip, phone burning a hole in my back pocket. When he sighed once more, I felt the sudden need to just show him the notes and put the idea out there. 

Heaving out a breath, I forced the device from my jeans to open up my notes app, flicking past the few that were worthless until I came across one I’d been thinking about since we’d first sat down.

Em chose that moment to glance over at me, eyes somehow bluer behind the lens of his glasses. I swallowed and all but shoved the phone towards him. 

He frowned but took it, unable not to, and I watched on in silence as he read it through, then read it though again. His fingers began tapping away on his knee the third time around. 

When he looked back up at me, I was surprised by the sudden change his face held, the way his expression had literally lit up. “The fuck you been holdin’ out on me for?” He practically demanded, voice having kicked up a pitch in his eager haste to try and work this into the mix. 

I was left blinking back at him, watching as he scribbled a plethora of words and letters onto the page we’d been working on, using arrows and lines to showcase his thinking, how he wanted the song to move. To flow. 

I barely had a second to think before he had his own phone out and was dialling away. My eyes widened when the Master of Mixology himself picked up. 

“What do you want, Marshall?”

Any other time I would have cackled at the sheer amount of resignation that greeting held, but it seemed as though I was suddenly tongue tied.

“Why you always think I’m doin’ stupid shit?” Marshall shot back at the man, though from where I was sat I could see the slight curve to his lip. 

“‘Cause I know you? And you usually are.” Dre answered, blunt and to the point. Very much how I’d pictured him. “So why d’you stop to fuck up my afternoon?”

“It’s afternoon already?” Marshall asked, brow furrowing as he shared a look with me.

“Two pm.” Dre told him with a sigh.

“Shit.” Marshall muttered under his breath, gesturing to me with a hand and an almost pleading look, “Set an alarm for when Z gets in, please?”

“Be easier if you did it, Em. Seeing as I’m in New York and you’re in Detroit.” Dre answered, which earned him a scoff from Marshall. 

“Not you.” He told the older man, but I was already on it, swiping out of my notes app so that I could do exactly that.

“The fuck?”

Marshall’s mouth twitched at the disgruntled retort, “With Elia right now, man. We’ve been workin’ on some new shit.”

“El–ee–ah!” Dre called back, really getting into the pronunciation of it. I chuckled softly. “How are you? Is Marshall takin’ good care of you? No troubles, right?”

Grinning, I leaned in closer to Em to be heard. “He’s been a real gent. Holding open doors and basically waiting on me hand and foot.” I teased, earning a side eye from the man himself, “If anything you should be asking him if he’s holding up okay.”

“She got you wrapped round that finger quick!” Dre gruffed out a laugh, the sound loud and joyous even through the phone’s tinny speakers, “It’s what I like to hear.” He added as his laughter ebbed, “Glad things are working out between you both– what’s this about the album then? We got something special?”

Marshall’s tongue darted out over his lip as his eyes flickered over to find me, “I think we hit the jackpot with this one, man. Can already picture it, Dre, like honestly. Shit she’s pulled out has got me feelin’ all nostalgic– it’s good. Too good. Reminds me of some of the stuff they were spittin’ way back before I came around.”

My eyebrows rose a little at his explanation, but I didn’t dare add on or contradict his words. Not that I would, seeing as he was practically spot on with the analysis. 

“No shit?” Dre sounded surprised, but I took it in stride when Em shuffled forward on the couch in his haste to read out some of the stuff we had jotted down, as well as the few lyrics I’d just handed him. 

The man on the other end of the call hummed in thought when Marshall finally wrapped up his whirlwind of a reply, letting the silence linger between us until I was chewing on the insides of my cheeks once more.

“I’ll Facetime you later once you’ve worked on it some more.” Dre eventually said, halting the tic of Em’s knee, a gesture I only took note of once it had stopped. “It’s promising though. Real promising. Figure we got something here with the pair of you.”

The look Marshall shot me at that had my mind turning to sludge.

–

Alarms always had me spooked, the sound so abrupt and alert that even though I was expecting it, I was never truly expecting it. You know?

Marshall and I had continued to work away, floating ideas back and forth with Dre and then without him once the man eventually got called away. It was slow going, but like Dre himself had said, oh so promising.

Never had I felt so listened to during a writing session. Marshall never failed to give me his full attention even when he was scrawling away or counting a tempo, it was as though he was able to just hone in on every notion I brought up, building on it as he nodded away and pointed to the places he figured we could add it in or just blend.

So by the time that alarm finally rang out, it was safe to say we were making a hell of a lot of progress. So much so that Marshall looked torn once we’d both jumped out of our skin at the sound and I’d hurried to silence it. 

His hands fluttered through the many pages we had, as well as my songbook, mouth thinned as his brows dipped together. Rosie would be home in a matter of minutes but he was still spinning with ideas.

I, on the other hand, was all too ready to take a break, head starting to feel heavy with the sheer amount of words it had taken in today. Marshall was a fucking living and breathing thesaurus.

“I can go hang out with her for a bit if you wanna keep on working.” I offered after I’d checked my phone for any recent notifications, noting that the only message I’d received was from Mila. An apology of sorts, letting me know that she’d be willing to wait for me to reach out again.

Em’s frown was palpable. He shook his head, “Can’t ask you to do that.”

I let go of an amused huff, “Good thing you didn’t ask then, I offered.”

His forehead furrowed further whilst he continued to collect the many sheets, I passed him the one I’d been gatekeeping. “Still.” He tried to push, but I just shrugged the word away.

“I could use the break,” I mentioned, reaching for the few empty bottles we’d settled on the floor around our feet, “Might even get a headstart on dinner if you guys aren’t going out.”

Marshall looked a little perplexed at that, “Goin’ out?”

I shrugged again, but smiled when he handed me his latest bottle, piling it into the bin alongside the rest so that I could take it back up the stairs with me. “I don’t know what plans you have!” I laughed lightly.

He ended up rolling his eyes at that, “If I did they’d include you, idiot. Wasn’t plannin’ on goin’ out though.” He retorted, before pausing and glancing over to me, “Why, did you want to?”

Honestly, he was hard work. I could only huff out another round of chuckles as I shook my head at him, “No, you’re all good. Like I said, I could get started on dinner.”

The expression he pulled then looked almost strained, as though he wasn’t used to being offered help, much less willing to accept it. But I could tell that he wanted to. He was on a roll here and it was obvious that he was desperate to keep ahold of that inspiration for as long as it would last.

I stopped with what I was doing to step closer again, hoping to reassure him somewhat. “I wouldn’t offer, if I minded.” I told him gently, “Just pray that I don’t poison the lot of us or burn the house down if I do start cooking though.”

He laughed a little at that, face softening at my words. It still took him another minute or so to finally agree, dipping his head ever so slightly in the most minute version of a nod, “You’ll call out if you need me?”

I raised a brow, “What, into your soundproof studio?”

He breathed out another chuckle, tongue pushing against his teeth as his hands fell limply between his knees, papers shuffling ever so. “Call me, call me. Or just use the intercom.”

“Yeah, not happening.” I quickly quipped, eyeing the so called intercom with obvious distaste, “I’ll call. I don’t know the first thing about how to work that.”

Marshall’s smug smirk was evident when I glanced back over at him, enough so that I could only flip him off as I moved to leave the room, muttering under my breath about being too kind to idiots, something that only proved to humour him further. 

“‘Preciate it!” He called out just before the door could close behind me. 

It had me smiling all the same.

[iamnotthere-idonotdie]

dream of me

part one

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synopsis: reader is an employee at wayne enterprises and gets a promotion from bruce, but the line between your professional relationship is blurred when he invites you to dinner.

content: bruce wayne x reader, no use of y/n, some cursing, some sex but not too graphic, mention of parents’ death

a/n: i had some other plans for this story but got a bad case of writers block so i decided to leave it here instead of dragging it out for the sole purpose of adding another plot point, i don’t have any plans for more parts to this but we’ll see, i honestly think i was more envisioning keaton’s bruce wayne for this story (at least i envisioned his house to look like keaton’s) because battinson’s would be pretty uncharacteristic for this, maybe this is an au where bruce wayne isn’t batman and just works at the company but i don’t know, point is just interpret bruce however you’d like, as always sorry about the typos, also sorry if it’s inaccurate that bruce doesn’t cook (i wasn’t sure if it was canon that he does or not so sorry if i was wrong in my guess, i should’ve just looked it up but honestly i was just ready to finally get this out of my drafts)

edit: i got around to making a part two

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grey clouds encompass the sky. your window is frosted by the freeze outside and slow snowflakes fall down like confetti. you walk up to the window and put your hand on it, letting the chilled glass send a shiver down your spine. it’s the first snowfall of winter. the first of likely many. though your penthouse offers a lavish view of the icy landscape of beautiful serenity, you know on the streets below the ice has already turned to slush and the snow has darkened from the dirty concrete. nothing beautiful lasts long in gotham city.

you pull your robe tighter around your shoulders and let out a sigh. you suppose you’d better get dressed for work. you walk across the bedroom to your closet and begin selecting your outfit. a stylish ensemble of pants, a button down top, and a sweater. you grab your boots out of the closet and set them down on the hardwood floor, the thud waking up your partner in bed. well, not exactly partner. but he kept you company last night, and warm this morning.

he rubs his eyes and sits up in bed.

“you’re leaving?” he asks, his words slurring as he tries to wake up.

“i have to go to work. we have a budget meeting today. i can’t be late.” you reply as you put your boots over your thick socks.

“what time is the meeting at?”

“ten.” you reply, flatly.

“well then what’s the rush? you still have plenty of time to get there.”

“not in this ice, i don’t.”

“well then at least let me kiss you goodbye.”

you reluctantly walk back over to the bed and kiss his cheek. you feel a sting in your chest and realize he didn’t see this as the one night stand you did.

“bye. i have to go.”

“see you later?” he asks as he gets out from under the covers, his clothes still off.

“maybe.” you say coldly. you don’t have time for this.

“okay, fine. bye.” he replies just as icy. good. it’s easier that way.

you put your coat on and grab your bag as you walk out the door, locking it behind you. he’ll unlock it again when he leaves but mrs. hanson down the hall has a spare. you’ll text her to lock the door for you later.

just as you predicted, the roads are a nightmare. you’re weaving in between other cars, willing the other drivers in them to go faster. you can’t be late for this meeting.

you finally get to the tower and pull into the garage, opting for a space right by the elevators. maybe if you get this promotion they’ll give you an assigned spot.

you get to your desk at 9:46. with a few minutes to spare, you go to the break room and make a coffee. someone keeps using your mug, so you have to use the communal one with the cartoon dog on it. not as professional as you’d like. and you can’t use a disposable because wayne enterprises is committed to being waste-free. at least waste-free when it comes to the break room. other areas in the company could benefit from that policy. but that’s what you’re going to propose in your meeting. you know this corporation is not going to run out of money anytime soon, but there are still places to improve on efficiency. you drink your coffee, black, and make your way back to your desk. you glance at the conference room every few seconds to watch your boss set up for the meeting. you analyze his every move, trying to gauge his mood at the moment. sometimes these proposals of yours don’t go over very well if he seems to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. you need him in a good mood. this meeting can potentially determine whether or not you can continue climbing the corporate ladder into that manager position you’ve been pining for for two years.

you gather your folder and notepad, opting to leave the coffee sitting at your desk, and you walk into the conference room.

“good morning mr. glass. enjoying the snow this morning?” you greet him in your most chipper tone in an attempt to sway what you think is a bad mood.

“well i would if the roads weren’t so goddamn icy. these people can’t drive in the snow.”

so maybe starting the conversation with that was a poor choice.

“yes, it can be very frustrating to drive in it.” you try to be as agreeable as possible.

more of your colleagues start to filter into the room as you take your seat at the end of the table. the conversation is low between everyone as they wait for the meeting to begin.

after 15 minutes, you start getting more anxious. your stare threatens to burn a hole through your folder with the proposal in it. why is this taking so long?

you now understand why there’s been a delay, as bruce wayne enters the room. fuck. bruce wayne is going to have to listen to your proposal now? it was nerve-wracking enough to have to pitch this to your boss, but the owner of the company? your boss’s boss? your hands start to shake and you try to wipe the sweat off of them onto your pants.

“i apologize everyone. i didn’t mean to keep you all waiting.” mr. wayne says as he takes his seat on the opposite end of the table.

mr. glass stands up from his seat at the head of the table. “well as long as you’re here, let’s get started on our quarterly report and budget for next month.”

the rest of the meeting is clouded by your anxiety. all you can think about is how much you don’t want to fuck this up. especially not in front of bruce wayne.

“well it looks like there’s plenty of room for improvement. how do you suggest we close this gap?” mr. glass asks the room, but it’s clear he is directing the question at mr. wayne.

“does anyone have any suggestions?” mr. wayne looks around the table.

without thinking you raise your hand and speak up.

“i have a budgeting proposal that i would like to share. if that’s alright.”

“that’s more than alright. let’s hear it.” mr. wayne gestures for you to take the stand, so to speak.

you stand and shakily take your papers out of the folder.

“as we all know, our expenses have been increasing as of late. and while these expenses have allowed us to improve on some essential aspects and departments, i believe there is a more efficient way we could be doing it.” you pause and look around the room. “firstly…”

the pitch goes better than you could have imagined. you were able to make your proposals clearly, answer questions thoroughly, and present confidently. you sit down after finishing and can’t help but smile, proud of yourself.

“well, that was quite a lot. thank you, but i think some of those implementations are a bit far-fetched.” mr. glass says and you can’t help but hear the condescending tone. your smile drops and you feel your face get hot in embarrassment. so much for that promotion.

“i actually really like what you had to say. i especially liked the suggestion to put more money into outreach.” mr. wayne says to you, smiling. “did you have any specific suggestions on where to do that?”

“thank you mr. wayne. i think it would be extremely beneficial and useful to prioritize teaching youth about technology; promoting stem learning and encouraging them to pursue higher education and research into it. we can even offer scholarships and grants to help students who won’t be able to afford the college tuition. and possibly gifting students new computers to further encourage learning.”

you get so passionate about this topic. you yourself were one of those kids. those kids who didn’t grow up in a mansion, but in a dingy apartment with a single father. those kids who couldn’t even afford to think about college, let alone actually pursue it. it was through a wayne scholarship program that gave you the opportunity to go to university. and now, if you have any say in the matter, you’d be proud to help give that opportunity to someone else who needs it.

“i think that’s great. giving these kids a way to focus their skills in a field they love. great work.” mr. wayne looks impressed, and you can’t help but smile even bigger.

“i appreciate that, mr. wayne.”

mr. glass clears his throat and stands again.

“well it looks like we have a solution here.” your boss says, clearly annoyed. “meeting adjourned, everyone. thank you.”

you stand up and gather your things together. you notice out of the corner of your eye that mr. wayne is making his way toward you.

“that was an excellent proposal. i think there’s a lot of potential there.”

“thank you mr. wayne.”

“bruce, please. i’ve actually been thinking about starting a new outreach division specifically working with the youth of gotham. when that happens, i’d like for you to head that department.”

you stare at him in shock for a moment then finally speak up.

“really? you want me?”

“you clearly have a passion for this. we need that.”

“wow. thank you. i’d be very interested in that.”

heading a division? in a program you care deeply about? this is much better than you had hoped for.

“great. i’ll be in touch and we’ll get started soon.”

“perfect. thank you mr. wa..”

“please, just call me bruce.”

you feel yourself blush a bit.

“bruce, thank you. thank you so much for this opportunity.”

“it’s my pleasure. i’m happy to give the position to someone who really cares about it.”

“i do, very much.”

bruce just smiles as he starts out the room.

“it was nice meeting you. and i’m looking forward to working with you on this.” he says.

“it was nice meeting you too. thank you, again.”

bruce smiles as he exits the room and you watch him through the glass as he makes his way down the hall.

you can’t believe it. this is the perfect opportunity for you. you spend the rest of the day too distracted by glee to focus on your spreadsheets. this is life changing. you can’t help but think of bruce differently too. he’d been up to your floor for meetings many times before, but this was the first time you were sitting in too. you’d always pictured him, frankly, not very positively. you knew this company was a great one and you were proud to work here, but now you’re feeling even better about being a part of wayne enterprises’ legacy.

at 5:36, you start gathering your things to go home. after organizing your desk and grabbing your bag, you start heading out of the office and to the elevators to the garage. you’re the last one to leave on your floor—even mr. glass left early—so you wait by the elevators alone. you hear the familiar ding and the doors open to reveal bruce wayne inside. he’s flipping through some pages in a manila folder when he looks up at you and smiles.

“hello,” he says pleasantly. “last one out?”

“yes, it’s just me.”

“what floor?”

“one, please.”

he presses the button, the button stating GF already glowing.

“thank you.”

the rest of the elevator ride is silent. bruce seems enveloped in this folder and you aren’t much of a talker anyways. the doors open and you start to exit the elevator, when bruce says,

“i’d like to start this project as soon as possible, monday.”

you stop and turn to face him. he’s smiling lightly and you smile back.

“that would be perfect. i’m very excited to start working on it.”

“i am as well. and i’m looking forward to working with you more closely too.”

“thank you bruce. i look forward to that as well.” and with that, the elevator doors close between you.

you smile again, thinking more about this job. but you realize you’re not just excited about the position, but the close proximity you’ll be working with bruce now. and how he said he’s looking forward to it.

you quickly dispel the thoughts from your mind. you’re frustrated at yourself for thinking of something so unprofessional. he was bruce wayne, for gods sake. your boss. any other notions needed to be eliminated, especially before starting this new position. you can’t afford something like that distracting you from doing your job and doing it well.

the weekend is spent with you primarily working on the project. you want everything ready to go and well-organized on monday. you want every detail planned out, to the tee. sunday night, you have all your folders, planners, binders, and other papers, all organized, sitting at the table by the door so you don’t forget them. you finally allow yourself to relax a minute before going to bed, so you draw a bath. you sit by the tub and watch it fill with the warm water, letting your mind wander. the rush of the water streaming out of the faucet provides the perfect white noise for you to get lost in a daydream. you think of this job, the company… bruce. when your mind starts to think of him, you let it stay on the thought. the thought of him, how nice he was to you during the meeting and afterwards. the elevator ride and his sweet goodbye. you think of his smile and you find yourself smiling too.

the sound of the water overflowing the tub jolts you out of your dream state.

“shit!”

you shut the faucet off and pull the plug on the tub drain to let the water go back down. you grab a few towels and try to mop the water up off the floor, leaving them in a wet pile by the door. you’re not feeling very relaxed anymore and don’t quite feel like a bath, but you’re not about to let this water go to waste. so, you slip your bathrobe off and slide into the water, grateful it’s still warm. you let out a sigh and close your eyes, trying to find serenity. again, your mind goes back to bruce. you can’t believe you’re allowing yourself to develop a crush on him. are you in elementary school? this is your boss, you can’t let these thoughts jeopardize this amazing career development.

you sit there for a while, until the water starts to cool down and your fingers start to prune. you get out of the tub and drain it, then grab your wet towels and bring them to the laundry room to wash. you take your robe off, the cold air stinging your naked body, and throw it in the washing machine too. you make a stop at the thermostat to turn it up as you make your way to your bedroom. you slip into pajamas and gingerly walk to the window and look out over the cityscape, the foggy night sky making it look spooky as ever. you allow yourself one last thought of bruce before you get into bed and fall asleep.

you wake up extra early monday morning and head straight to work. the ice has luckily been cleared a bit by gotham’s snow plows, but that doesn’t stop the traffic from forming. it’s okay, you gave yourself plenty of time to get there.

you get up to your floor almost an hour early and make a cup of coffee in the break room. at least one positive of coming in this early, no one’s using your mug.

you sit down at your desk and start running through your folder for the project, drinking your coffee until the mug is almost dry.

“good morning.”

you’re startled by a low voice behind you. it’s bruce.

“good morning bruce. you’re in early.”

“i could say the same to you.”

“i’m just ready to get started.”

“well great. we’ll get things started once everyone else gets in.” he points to your near-empty mug. “more coffee?”

“oh, sure. thank you.”

“how do you take it?”

“just black, please.”

bruce picks up your cup and takes it back to the conference room, his own mug in his other hand. he comes back with two steaming cups and sets yours back on your desk.

“thank you.” you say, picking it up and taking a sip.

“of course. so, how was your weekend?”

“it was good. mostly just working on this.” you pat your folder, gesturing to the project.

“i hope you were able to get some rest in too.”

“i was, yes. and you? how was your weekend?”

“oh, fairly uneventful. i spent most of it working as well.”

“well, i hope you were able to get some rest in too.” you say with a smile.

bruce smiles back

“i was, yes.”

the two of you continue talking at your desk as the first few members of your team start to trickle in.

when the rest of your team arrives, you and bruce all meet in the conference room to discuss strategies and begin the plans for this venture. it’s a productive day, with you sharing your thoughts on how to increase efficiency and bruce bouncing off your ideas. you realize you two work well together, your shared values and ideals harmonizing with each other to create a thought out and amazing plan. you start packing up feeling even more confident with this new position and you already cannot wait to keep going with it.

at the end of the day, bruce finds you again at the elevator, and this time the ride isn’t filled with awkward silence but with engaged conversation between colleagues.

“i enjoyed hearing about your plans to bring this project into gotham’s schools. your point about giving each classroom the proper curriculum via new technology was especially helpful.” bruce smiles at you and you can’t help but feel proud of yourself.

“thank you bruce. i think the whole team was able to work very well together and we made some great progress today.”

“i think so too.”

the elevator dings and the doors open to the garage.

“well, thank you again. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“see you tomorrow.” he says with a smile.

you walk towards your car with your back facing the elevator when you hear the doors close. and then footsteps coming up behind you.

bruce taps your shoulder.

“would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

you’re shocked at his question and, truthfully, your first instinct is to decline. he must sense your apprehension because he starts to backpedal on his question.

“if you have plans, or just don’t want to, i understand.”

“no… i would be happy to have dinner with you.”

“great. we can go down to my car if you’d like.”

“sure.” you say with a smile. as you follow behind him back to the elevator to go to the ground floor, you feel yourself blushing.

the two of you make it to the lobby and you realize how rarely you actually see this part of the offices, with your daily routine utilizing the parking garage every day since you started working here. bruce’s car is brought around front and he opens the passenger door for you to get in.

you make small talk as you drive to his home. you talk about work, how exciting the project is. you talk about the weather, how it’s nice that the ice is clearing. it’s a pleasant drive with bruce at the wheel. when you get to his home, bruce comes around and opens the car door for you again and you head up the steps to his front door. you enter into his insanely large home and are in awe of how just one person can inhabit so much space.

“good evening, master bruce. dinner is almost ready.” an older gentleman greets you two as you enter.

“this is alfred,” bruce introduces him. “he takes care of a some things around here.”

“i take care of everything around here. pleasure to meet you.” alfred offers a hand to shake.

“the pleasure is all mine, alfred.” you say with a chuckle.

“we can wait in the living room. i’ll start a fire.” bruce says.

alfred makes his way to the kitchen as you follow bruce to what you assume is one of multiple living rooms in the house. he puts some logs in and starts a fire in the almost-comically large fireplace then sits down next to you on the sofa.

“dinner smells delicious.” you say, filling the air with light conversation to accompany the crackle of the fire.

“alfred is an amazing cook. i’ve tried to learn from him but i suppose it just wasn’t in the cards for me.”

“i never really learned either. my mother was a great cook too. i wish she had been able to teach me… she passed when i was very young. that’s actually one of the few things i remember about her, her cooking.”

you don’t know why you suddenly started talking about your mother. it’s not exactly light fireside conversation.

“i’m sorry…” bruce says quietly.

“it’s okay. it was a long time ago, and my father and i were able to grow a lot closer over the years.”

“are you and your father still close?”

“he.. actually is gone too. he died of cancer a few years ago. losing my mother was hard, of course. but losing my dad… he was all i knew for so long. all we had was each other.” you start to feel yourself welling up, and you realize you’ve never talked about this with anyone else before.

bruce sits there quietly, and you try to fight the tears but when one falls, the others follow suit.

“i’m sorry…” you start as you try to wipe them away.

“don’t be.” bruce says quietly as he gently wipes a tear off your cheek. he lets his hand stay there, his thumb resting gently on your cheekbone.

you lock your eyes with his and just as you start to get your tears under control, bruce leans in and lightly kisses you. and though you know he’s your boss and you know it’s unprofessional… you don’t stop him. instead, you look at him, and then lean in yourself and kiss him back, stronger. the light of the fire casts dancing shadows across the two of you as you fall into each other on the ornate sofa. dinner has left your mind, work has left your mind, everything has left your mind. everything but him.

you continue kissing, passion growing more and more as the fire grows too. he’s unbuttoning your shirt and you’re taking off his jacket. shoes are kicked off and before it continues, he’s scooping you up with his arms under your knees and around your shoulders, carrying you up the stairs to what you assume is his bedroom. he opens the door and not-so gently puts you on the bed. he finishes undressing himself and then starts taking your clothes off too. he slides your pants down and off your legs and lifts your shirt off, leaving your arms laying above your head. you feel vulnerable, yet when he gets on top, you somehow also feel safe, it just all feels so right. this intensity, this passion, this craving you have for each other is more than you bargained for but also, somehow, everything you ever wanted.

you finish, bruce quick to follow. you only now start to think about how loud you must have been. you both lay there, catching your breath, sweating, and realize how fast the time has gone by. you’ve definitely missed dinner.

bruce finds you an oversized t-shirt and a pair of his boxers for you to wear. he finds a shirt for himself and slips a pair of sweatpants on. you and him make it back downstairs to find that alfred has stored your dinner in the fridge and left instructions on how to properly heat it up. you and bruce laugh at each other for not knowing how to work the stove as you stumble through alfred’s pointers, but you both finally manage to reheat the meal and go back to the living room to eat. with the fire burning its last embers, you and bruce eat your dinner under the low orange light by the fireplace. you talk about nothing yet about everything as you enjoy the delicious late-night dinner. bruce takes your plate to the kitchen and washes the dishes as you bask in the final warmth of the fire.

“i may not be able to cook,” bruce starts as he makes his way back to you. “but i at least know how to clean up after myself. alfred left another note saying to leave the dishes to him, but i figured i’d save him a few extra minutes.”

“how very kind of you.” you say, teasingly.

“well, i am extremely generous.” he says with a sarcastic tone.

you laugh and when he sits back down next to you, you pull him in and kiss him. he cradles your jaw in his palm and kisses you back, his thumb gently rubbing your temple. he pulls away and kisses your forehead. exhaustion gets the better of you and you yawn.

“you tired?” he says smiling.

“no, of course not. i’m as awake as ever, i could run a marathon.” if your sarcastic tone didn’t make it clear you were indeed tired, the second yawn surely did.

he chuckles and stands, taking your hand in his as he leads you back upstairs.

“i have a guest room if you want it, right there down the hall.” he says, pointing ahead.

you look down the hall then back up at him.

“or…”

he chuckles lightly and grabs your hand again, taking you back into his room. you get under the covers with him and he lays down on his back as you curl up next to him, resting your arm across his stomach and your head on his chest. his steady heartbeat and his gentle stroking of your arm lulls you quickly to sleep. as you lay there, seduced into a deep slumber by the warmth and comfort, you dream only of bruce.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

…………………………………………………………………………………….

[desmond69miles]

Blood Letting

A Human! Huggy wuggy, Bendy, and Freddy Fazbear x Fem! Reader smut

this is... this is from my old blog and shit is it bad. I thought I should actually finish it before letting it simmer in shame in my drafts.

Edit in 2024: I haven't read this since I wrote it and I REFUSE to read it. Looking back on this it makes me cringe (?) for lack of a better term. I... apologize for this.

warnings: blowjobs, cunnilingus, DP, DP in one hole, non-realistic smut, fingering, cussing, demonic summoning, sir kink, daddy kink, breeding, suit kink, voice kink, hand kink, glove kink, light breathplay, size kink, all three of them are TALL ass motherfuckers, neck kissing, freddy has a dad bod, biting, hair pulling, marking, scratching, ink cum????

I had to read A LOT of f/m/m/m fanfictions for this. I got the initial part done, but had no idea of any of the dynamics so hopefully this isn’t shit. 

-

You were a vampire

And baby, I’m the walking dead

(hes judging you for your decisions)

You sat there, pentagram circled around your body.

The weird lady who had owned the occult shop down the street from your house had given you a strange book after a ten-minute questioning about your sex life, telling you to turn to page forty-six and do the spell. After paying, you waited until dark. Now, it was late at night: all of your neighbors in your shitty apartment complex were asleep. The red candles you bought at target circled around your body, lit with fire. You honestly had no clue what you were doing, mind still distracted with a fanfiction you were reading, an AU where three of your favorite games were mashed up. Sighing, you looked down at the dusty book and flipped to the page, thick black letters reading “INCUBUS SUMMONING.” Your eyes squinted as your lips tightened, did this old lady who you knew got no dick give you a book to summon a fucking sex demon? You paused, looking back towards your bedroom door, the vibrator still laying on the ground next to your bed. “God dammit.” You cursed, adjusting yourself so you were now kneeling against your heels. 

You glazed the page over, swallowing dryly. You tapped your fingers over the Latin words, running the pads over the raised letters. Your mind tingled with a curious intent as you spoke the words, stumbling over a few in trying to pronounce them. As you spoke, you felt your tongue get heavy, fingers now more harshly gripping the book. Soon, the words stopped, your ears listening in for anything. After a few seconds passed, you cussed again and slapped the book shut, grabbing your phone off the side and standing up. “Time to go read some smut, that fucking dick lady.” You huffed, feeling stupid enough to believe that demons were real and that the book wasn’t some goth's doing. You walked into your bedroom and flopped down on the bed, your nipples gently budding in the cold air. Unlocking your phone, you went to safari and quickly flipped to the tab that was AO3, searching up 'Five Nights At Freddys' and adding reader as a tag, flipping the rating to explicit. Nothing some good ol' (fictional) animatronic dick couldn't fix. 

After a good thirty minutes of browsing and flipping through pages, you turned off your phone and slapped it to the side, your glossy eyes staring up at the popcorn ceiling. Your mind pondered about Bendy and the Dark Revival, and if there was going to be another FNAF game, or how you still needed to buy Poppys Playtime. After a while, your eyes began to close, your body bringing you to the brink of sleep. Cold air comforted your skin, breathing deep an-

CRASH

You jumped up, skittering off the bed in the process. Something big had fallen from the kitchen, it sounded like the shelf you had all of your pans on had crashed down into the floor. You felt your stomach begin to climb up your throat, quickly swallowing it down and looking around for a weapon. Nothing but your "trusty" vibrator was seen. 'Why is it always the horny girls that die first?' You quietly thought to yourself as you crept towards your door, peering through the crack. Some laughter was heard from the kitchen. 'Three men, great. This is what I get for not taking those self-defense classes.' You cringed as you heard more talking, then heavy footsteps, a shadow appearing in the doorway leaving the kitchen. Yeah, that definitely wasn't your roommate. You mouthed the words 'oh shit', but instead of closing the door and hiding like a rational person, you continued to peer out into the messy living room. You were not rational, nor sane. If you died here, you prayed the police wouldn't find your toy collection.

Slowly, you opened your bedroom door just enough to slip past. You didn't care enough to close it behind you, too high off of fear. Slowly creeping past your living room in an awkward stance, shoulders raised up and hands gripped tight. Once you reached the kitchen, you carefully peered around the corner, cursing when you saw that there was no one there, just a large mess. You bit your lip, fingers roughly gripping the doorway. Suddenly, a cold hand was placed on your shoulder, your body quickly spinning around and tripping over someone's feet, falling backward and landing harshly on your ass. Your hands shot up to smack against your mouth to cover an incoming scream, hands soon lowering as your jaw dropped.

The spell had worked, but not in the way you intended it to. Instead of one demonic-looking incubus coming to have sex with you in offer for your soul, three people stood there, their designs all too familiar. Standing in front of you were three men, three men who have wanted to see in real life for oh-so-long. A confused look was plastered on the now-human Freddy, and the other two (now-human) Bendy and Huggy looking around your messy apartment. "Uhh... Buh-But i-uh.. huh?" Confused, you placed a shaking hand over your chest to try and calm your racing heart. With a tilt of his head and a snarky smile, Freddy spoke, "Why do you look so frightened, kiddo? We don't bite." His voice was smooth and deep, like a fine whiskey. It made you blush. He looked fancy, dressed properly in a cream-colored button up with a brown vest, a black bow-tie and tophat accompanying his suit. Little bear ears poked out from his hair thick with messy brown hair. 

Bendy was similarly dressed to Freddy, expect in a black vest with a gray-button up and a white bowtie. His black hair was messy and tangled up, horns poking out from the top of his head. He was wandering off from the other two, touching and exploring around your apartment. Huggy Wuggy was less formally dressed, and instead only in a blue button-up shirt with dark blue jeans, with a clean white bow-tie. His hear was matted into horns, two red hairclips keeping his bangs out from one side of his face. He had red face paint drawn around his lips to mimic that of his game design. He aswell was looking around, but had preferred to keep his hands to himself. All three men had towered above you, all at least a good six foot three. It was honestly kind of exilerating, making your panties wet. 

Snapping out of your transe, you peered into Freddy's brown eyes. "Uhm.? Hi?" You didn't mean for it to come out as a question, but in your nervous delirium, it had. Maybe you were sleeping, and actually dreaming peacefully in your bed? You hoped, scorching back a few inches, but running into someones legs. When you looked up, you were met with the smiling face of Bendy, his head tilted to the side. "Hello, darling!" He piped, hands reaching down to squeeze your shoulders. His pants were soft, connecting to your skin through your thin tank top. He walked away soon after, going to dIsturb more of your precious items. Huggy soon snapped his attention towards you, placing an arm around Freddy's shoulder and leaning onto him. "Ain't she a bit beautiful, don'tcha think?" The blue-haired male said, gazing at you through pretty yellow eyes. His voice alone made your pussy throb. "Yeah, they remind me of a little mouse, huh? Small and quiet, adorable." Freddy responded, an untamed blush resting on your cheeks, reaching towards the tips of your ears. 

From your bedroom, you heard Bendy call out, "Whats this thing?" And soon after, a low vibrating hum and a small thump was heard, eyes widening as you jumped up, scowering towards your bedroom. "Don't touch that!" You hissed, picking up your vibrator and turning it off, pulling open your nightstand drawer and dropping it in, slamming it shut. Bendy's eyes were widened, smile still present on his face. Embarressment filled you, why did he have to go into your bedroom and find that? From your view, Bendy was towering above your chubby form, hands fiddling with your sweatpants string. You watched as Bendy's hands slid down and into his pocket. "Don't touch my things, alright? Or... Or I'll do something." You chalked up, crossing your arms and backing up a bit from bendy.

The dancing demon had seemed somewhat offended by your words, a look of confusion on his face. "'What?" He tempted, and when you had tried to walk back to the main room, someone pressed up against you. When you looked back, Freddy was standing behind you, his gloved hands moving down your arms and grasping your wrists. Huggy soon joined in on capturing you, sliding up next to Freddy as Bendy stalked closer towards you, lowering his face so it was only a few inches from you. You could feel his warm breath fan across your face, and you inhaled his scent. Bitter, like ink, but comforting, like firewood. A small whimper left your lips at the feel of Bendy's hands run across your waist, landing on your hips. "Trying to make threats are we, pet?" Bendy growled, pressing his chest into yours, boobs smashing up against him. You were sure he could feel your nipples poking through your tanktop. Heat radiated from all around you, skin aflame. A small chuckle was given from Huggy, his arms coming to wrap around your waist, above Bendy's and in between Freddys. Were you uncomfortable? Sort of. Was it all moving too fast? No. How many fantasies have you had of being railed by these men? And I mean, you kinda caused it on yourself.

Another whimper left your lips as you felt one of Bendy's hands come up and ghost over one of your breasts, gently circling your clothed nipple. "So fucking,, cute." Bendy whispered, you felt Huggy slip his hand down and onto your butt, gently squeezing. Freddy nuzzled his head into the nick of your shoulder, starting to make small hickies and love bites across the skin. A firework of arousal shot off inside of you, a squeal leaving your mouth as you felt Freddy lick around you, the other two men gently caressing your body. Bendy moved forward, meeting your lips in a soft kiss. His lips were soft, a faint taste of bitter ink on them. Huggy hummed, leaning back and watching you whimper and whine, his dick twitching in anticipation. 

Hands still trapped by Freddy's bigger ones, you shuffled them back to grip against Freddys vest. You felt Huggys arms slip off of you, and Bendy's lips being ripped from yours. Huggy had gripped Bendy's hair and pulled him away, taking his place and roughly kissing you soon after. Freddy's hands moved from your wrists and to your breasts, gently needing the soft flesh in between his thick fingers, the pads of his fingers occasionally brushing against your nipples. Something, two somethings, were pressed against you, and a bit awkwardly, you reached forward and palmed Huggy in his jeans, a rough moan leaving his lips, the sound getting caught in your mouth. Bendy hissed, soon ripping both men from you and throwing you down onto the bed. You watched as Huggy narrowed his eyes at the Ink Demon, fists balling up. "Jelous, idiot?" Huggy hissed, brushing Bendy to the side as he pushed you down onto the bed, Freddy walking around to the other side, and Bendy joining beside Huggy. 

"Now, are you going to be good for us, and let us use you?" Freddy cooed, hand on your shoulder and gently pulling you back so you were now laying back. Your head was hanging off the side of the bed, your hips on the edge. You felt Huggy guide your legs up so he could pull your sweatpants along with your panties down, the cold hair hitting your crotch, you shivered. You knew you were wet, inner thighs slicked and hole eager, fluttering. "Yeah, I'll be good." You purred, smiling at Freddy as he gently stroked the side of your face. Bendy and Huggy were quietly bickering, but soon stopped as your legs fell open, adjusting themselves so they were now propped up on the edge of the bed, knees bent. Quickly, you felt Bendy shove Huggy to the side as the ink demon took the place in between your legs. Huggy grunted, pulling himself ontop of the bed and to the side of you. You watched as Freddy unzipped his pants, pulling them down enough so his cock could spring out. He was thick, tip drooling with salty pre-cum. Knowing what to expect and what to do, your mouth fell open, inviting Freddy in. He smiled, you watched as the ears ontop of his head twitched in excitement. 

At the same time that Freddy had entered your mouth, Bendy had started to kiss along your inner thighs, licking up your juices as he inhaled you. Freddy took his cock out, smearing the tip around your lips, and then reaching down to take your tank-top off. Instead of taking it off like a normal being, Freddy had gripped the top of the tanktop tightly and ripped it, stopping about mid stomach, just enough so your breasts were exposed to the three men. Huggy hummed, now unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down aswell, boxers going along with the pants. Huggy watched as your hand reached out to him, to gently stroke him, rubbing the tip against the tip of your finger. The blue-haired man watched your soft thighs flex and gently giggle with occasional jerks of pleasure, watching how your soft tummy was littered with stretchmarks. It was so pretty, knowing you were well-fed and knowing you'd be a good carrier for a baby. 

Huggy was tired of Bendy still teasing, so he grabbed his hair, and mushed his mouth with your pussy, a loud cry of pleasure leaving your mouth at his actions. You felt Bendy roughly grip your thighs, pointy nails digging through his gloves. "Be gentle, she brought us here. Show her some compassion you dimwits." Freddy complained, gently rocking himself in and out of your mouth. Huggy groaned, Bendy whimpered. "You taste, you smell... So good." He dragged out the 'so', a gloved finger coming up to rub against your clit, the fabric feel making your stomach clench. Huggys hand came down to play with one of your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh. Your hand came up to Freddy's hip, gently squeezing his soft, tan-toned flesh, encouraging him to be rougher. He had took the message, and brought his hand down to your neck, squeezing around your throat. His pace had also sped up, a wet squelching sound coming from your mouth every time he moved, followed by a small gag.

Soon, Freddy removed himself from your mouth, hand coming to wipe away tears and drool that spread across your face. Now without your throat being blocked, you openly moaned at Bendy's actions, feeling his tongue flick restlessly against your clit, one of his clothed fingers coming to rub against your slit. The dip of his first knuckle into your hole was enough for you to cry loudly, hole fluttering as you came for the first time that night. Bendy let you ride out your orgasm by grinding on his face before pulling away, delivering a soft kiss to the side of your thigh before he stood up, pressing his hard-on into your sensitive cunt. You shuddered, bringing your hand away from Huggy and instead squeezing your chest. 

"Let me use her mouth," Huggy said, sliding off the bed and pushing Freddy to the side, the bear giving him a nod as he walked towards bendy. Your cunt throbbed, hands shakey with your previous orgasm. "Isn't she just so pretty, still shaking from my mouth?" Bendy said, humming towards Freddy as he ran a finger through your puffy lips. "She really is, so delectable." Freddy responded, Huggy joining in on the conversation, "I wonder if we get to keep her for ourselves once were done, then we could ruin her every day..." 

"Stand up for a second, love." Freddy said, scootching you off to the side as he laid down, and then pulled you back ontop of his chest. You husked when Freddy's cock slapped against you, and when you felt Bendy's join the mixture, you moaned. Huggy had pulled your head back, hanging off off Freddy's shoulder, and stroked your cheek affectionately. You moved a hand to your mouth, wiping away stray drool, moving your head so it was leaning against Freddy's. "Are you ready, superstar?" You giggled at his nickname, rolling your hips against the boys, nodding. Bendy was the first to enter you, quickly and with ease. The air left your body when you felt the tip of his cock butt against your cervix. Soon after, Huggy gently slapped the tip of his dick against your lips, making you open your mouth wide. He easily slipped in, moaning at the feeling of your slick saliva coat his cock. 

Freddy kissed your cheek, hand going down to guide his penis into you. "W-Wai--AH!" Instead of what you thought he was going to do, he pushed inside of your vagina, his cock snug against Bendys. You groaned loudly, head lolling back, the tip of Huggys cock meeting with the back of your throat. "Thats a good, good girl. Being so obident for your sirs." Bendy keened, hand coming down to wipe some tears away from your face. "I'm gonna move now, ok, my darling?" You hummed in response, nearly cumming then and there when you felt Bendy move his hips back, then slowly forward. Freddy groaned, his hands roughly gripping your hips. You were sure you were going to have bruises there in the morning. 

While Freddy wasn't moving his hips, his fingers danced around your breasts, flicking and playing with your budding nipples. It took your might to not accidentally bite down, gagging on Huggys cock. Your hands gripped Freddys wrists for support, hips dancing in an attempt to get closer to that oh so tempting edge. Tenderly, Huggy ran his hands around your neck, giving you a tight squeeze. You groaned, muffled. Huggy's thrusts had turned frantic and he lost control, hands gripping tightly around your throat. Your vision had started to blur around the edges, hands squeezing impossibly tight around clothed wrists. 

With a few more thrusts, Huggy had pulled out, stroking himself quickly and throwing his head back with a shout as he came all over your face. He had tried to aim for your mouth, but in an horny daze, he more so got it all over your chin and cheeks. It didn't take long for you to reach that edge either, cumming with a long moan as you squirmed. You were burning, hips rolling in waves as it felt you'd just been dumped into a pull full of aphrodisiacs. Bendy had came next, crashing down with a grunt as he spilled inside and on Freddy, the bear soon following after. For a good few minutes, you all breathed as one big human-ball, catching your breath as you tremored. 

"Good job, you did so well. Your such a good girl." Freddy said, giving you a smooch on the side of your face. 

now to ruin the mood

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

"get me a damned matcha" | Chapter 1: June I

{{ Chapter 2: July I }} Chapter Directory

I'm so excited to finally publish this jdkflsjd. I'll get this chapter up on AO3 later this weekend or on Monday since my parents are in town, so I'm not sure how much I'll be able to be on! If you're interested in getting tagged for updates, fill out this new form here: x :3

EDIT: this is now up on AO3 as well!

✧ pairing ➼ levi ackermann x fem!reader, college x coffee shop x roommates!au ✧ summary ➼ After you find yourself plagued with misfortune due to struggles in your personal and family life, you find yourself needing to move last minute. As a junior in undergrad with little money and little social support, you considered yourself lucky when you found a sublease that was close to campus and was relatively cheap. Unfortunately, it seemed that your roommate did not seem to be so excited regarding your presence. ✧ content/warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, enemies to lovers (sorta), strangers to lovers, fem!reader, eventual smut, ex was originally porco but i accidentally made him too much of a dick so i replaced his name with zack, no it is not a reference to zeke i'd rather puke, only adding tags/content warnings that are applicable to each chapter so people can skip around if need be!, will continue to add as more stuff comes up ✧ word count ➼ ~3.9k

College was difficult enough without having to worry about money, housing, and relationship issues. Unfortunately, you were not one of the few lucky students that could just get through those four years in isolation. In addition to worrying about school, you also had to deal with a last minute housing change after some recent bullshit regarding your now ex-boyfriend. Your dynamic had gotten to the point that you couldn’t afford to wait for another two months as leases began expiring and apartments would open up for prospective renters again. You’d rather live on the streets when compared to having to live with him for another day. 

Given the fact that it was June and your only remaining family was out of the country, you were left with no choice but to desperately try to find a sublease that wasn’t ridiculously expensive. That, plus the fact that you didn’t have a car and would be forced to live near campus, meant that you were ready to rip your hair out by the time that you finally found a sublease.

You knew it was due to nothing other than pure luck when you found an apartment complex that was a ten-minute walk to campus, close to a bus stop, relatively cheap, and had a tenant that moved out the week prior.

Unfortunately, your luck ran out when you found that you'd have to take a 2-hour bus ride from your ex-boyfriend's house to your new apartment. It wasn't that far from the two destinations, but the bus routes looped around the town multiple times, making your commute much longer than if you had gone by car.

As a result, you found yourself leaning your head back against the glass window at the rear end of the bus.

This really is Zack's last "fuck you" to me, isn't it?

You anxiously tapped your foot against the floor as you pulled out your phone for the millionth time. The previous tenant that set up the sublease had given you the contact information for your new roommate to set up the exchange of keys along with getting everything set up regarding who's paying for what utilities and how rent would be split. You already knew this was going to be a pain in the ass to handle. What you weren't prepared for was the lack of a hasty response when you sent a text to the number that Miche had given you.

> [you (12:35pm)]: hey, miche said you'd be free this afternoon so i can get your keys? does 3:00 work

You had sent that text message to your mysterious roommate roughly an hour ago when you had boarded your first bus back towards campus. You were now about half-way through your trip and had boarded your third bus, which was finally your last one before getting dropped off roughly a block away from your new apartment. 

You shot a frown towards your phone. Your roommate had still not answered. Frustrated, you began typing again, in case the urgency in your first text was missed.

> [you (1:45pm)]: im on the bus ride over. i don't have a car, so would we be able to handle this so i'm not stranded outside?

By the time you arrived, your roommate had still not answered. You had spent the entire two-hour ride anxiously bouncing your leg up and down, checking your phone every 5-10 minutes to see if you would ever get an answer. 

You didn't.

When the bus driver finally announced your stop, you found yourself more anxious than you were relieved at finishing your annoyingly long bus ride. You stepped off the bus in a dejected manner, with your right hand holding onto your phone and your left hand holding onto your backpack strap that was a bit too tight on your shoulders. Your back ached from lugging it around all day. It was packed with the basic necessities that you would need to survive the week, with your ex-boyfriend, Zack, promising to drop off the rest of your stuff next week—although you knew that translated to "shit he didn't want". That's just how your dynamic was. 

You unlocked your phone and typed in the address for your new apartment complex again, navigating your way through the fairly empty streets. It was a residential area and given the fact that it was near a college campus—and therefore primarily made up of university students—and it was in the middle of June, most of the tenants had gone home for the summer.

The new apartment complex wasn't bad. It certainly couldn't compare to a house, but it had an indoor lobby with mailboxes on one side and a recreation room on the other with some vending machines, and even a small kitchenette. 

No wonder the rent was so expensive.

You stepped inside, a relieved exhale escaping your lips as you felt the cool air from the air conditioning unit wash over you. Although you were definitely still irritated, seeing the lobby and escaping the heat brought up your mood slightly.

Your resolve renewed, you began to climb up the stairs, trying to figure out the best way to greet your new roommate without being overly frustrated. 

Maybe their phone was off. Maybe they took a nap and couldn't see the texts. Maybe you got the wrong number from Miche. 

You thought of all the reasons as to why they wouldn't respond. You shook your head, knowing that you should just brush it under the rug. As long as your roommate was home to let you in and give you your keys, there shouldn't be any more issues—for now. 

"Unit 217," you mumbled to yourself as you walked down the hallway, looking up at the door numbers.

Once you appeared in front of Unit 217, you frowned, noticing that the lights inside were off. That wasn't good news.

Maybe there's enough lighting from the windows that they don't need lights.

You gently knocked on the door.

There wasn't a sound—no movement, no noise, no talking, nothing.

You knocked again a bit harder. 

Nothing.

You knocked again.

They're not home. Of course they're not home. What a wonderful start to this already shitty situation.

You rested your forehead against the door, tempted to smash your head against it out of frustration. Your eyes finally shot open when you heard a door open. You glanced over to the side and saw a tall blonde man with a beard and glasses walk out.

"Locked out?" he asked as you made eye contact.

"You could say that," you mumbled with a frown. "You wouldn't happen to know of anywhere within walking distance that has wi-fi?"

If you couldn't get ahold of your roommate, you might as well get some writing done until you can return later in the evening when your roommate has to be home. 

"There's a café roughly a block down, if you were wanting to hang out there, although I'm not sure when Ackermann will be home. His schedule's been all over the place recently."

"Hmm," you muttered, indicating the lack of interest in learning about your roommate's backstory, although you now at least had a name.

Ackermann, huh? What a pretentious sounding last name.

~~~~~

These damn undergrads...

Levi Ackermann currently stood behind the doorway that led from the breakroom and into the main seating area of the small, local café that he currently held a part-time position as a barista at. 

He wasn't supposed to be here. He had purposefully given himself the week off so he could catch up on some lab work, yet he still found himself here. One of the new hires—a sophomore named Marlo—called out roughly 20 minutes ago when Levi was headed home from his immunology lab after spending the entire morning chatting with his mentor about whether he'd be able to graduate with his PhD on time.

To make things worse, since he was new, Marlo's shift meant that Levi was stuck working at the registers to take orders, which he easily considered the worst part of the job. If his shift just consisted of making the specialty brews that came his way, he'd be significantly less grumpy. That way, he could just tuck away in his corner and do the one aspect of the job that he enjoyed—making tea—instead of having to deal with the irritation that came with dealing with the undergrads that frequently visited.

"For fuck's sake," he whispered underneath his breath as he shut the door to his locker, ignoring his phone that kept on lighting up. He had it on silent for everyone except for the two people that mattered in his life—Farlan and Isabel—and they wouldn't contact him unless it was an emergency. 

The fact that coming into this shift was one of the smaller annoyances in Levi's life simply poured more salt onto his wound. He wasn't even supposed to be working this much since it took away from his school time to do his research, but the graduate program's financial aid office fucked up his stipend and he was left to fend for himself. It was only for this month, so it didn't matter in the grand scheme of things, but then his housing situation got all fucked up.

He had been living with Miche for roughly a year and they had a decent partnership as roommates, until Miche left to live closer to the city after freshly finishing a Master's program. Miche had moved out about two weeks ago, telling him that his new roommate would be reaching out soon. Levi's stipend situation couldn't come at a worse time, as Miche moving out meant he had to cover this month's rent on his own unless his new roommate magically showed up within the next day and was willing to cover rent when they hadn't even really started living there yet. 

After shooting a death glare at the front register for a few more minutes, he finally decided to step up to the counter, hoping that it was at least a slow day so he could get home and pretend the grievances in his life weren't as bothersome for a few hours.

His shift had just started, so he was more than a little annoyed when he already heard the door open. The semester had just ended, which roughly translated to all the undergrads leaving for summer break. Other than the few stragglers and the unfortunate PhD students that were forced to work through the summer, everyone should have gone home. He glanced up as he saw someone walk inside. 

An immediate frown appeared on his face. He could immediately tell that they were an undergraduate student, and likely an oblivious one at that.

Levi watched as you stumbled in through the door, dragging in a backpack that was slightly too large and overpacked. You looked like you had been running around with no sense of direction or purpose. You were all disheveled, as shown by how chaotic your hair looked and through how much you struggled stepping away from the door frame and towards the coffee bar.

He felt his eyes begin to roll before seeing you approach him.

Taking over Marlo's shift means I'm working the registers and have to talk with the undergrads. What a pain in the ass.

He stared at you with a neutral expression on his face as you plopped down at the coffee bar in front of him.

"Can I get you something?" he finally said, in a tone that indicated that customer service was not one of his skills in this profession.

You looked past him at the menu that was hung up behind him. Although you had passed this café a bunch whenever you found the time to travel off-campus and explore the town that surrounded the outskirts of Paradis University, this was the first time you actually found yourself in Chosahei Café. You squinted at the menu, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion at some of the options.

"Why are the specialty coffee drinks unavailable?"

"Ah?" mumbled Levi before turning around to glance at where you were looking. "The barista that specializes in those stepped out. I can get you one of the standard ones or I can get you one of the specialty teas."

You blinked at him for a few seconds as if you were struggling to process what he was saying.

"You're a barista and you can't make coffee?"

"Tch," he muttered, already beyond irritated as he frowned at you. He knew that he was likely biased against your presence and simply lumped you in with the rest of the undergrads that constantly drove him up the wall with their obsession with cheap iced lattes that he couldn't be bothered to care about making. "Did you not hear what I just said? I can get you a standard one or—if you were really wanting one of the house specialty drinks—one of the teas."

"You must get top remarks for your customer service skills," you said with a monotonous tone.

Levi placed his hands on the counter, leaning against it as he stared at you.

"This isn't some retail café like Starbucks—which is down the street, by the way," he said, pointing towards the door as a gesture to indicate that you could leave if you weren't satisfied. "The house drinks were all created by the employees and the barista that made the specialty coffees stepped out. Now are you going to order or not? I have other customers to attend to."

His eyes raised off of you and towards the back of the café, where a line of about 3-4 people gathered as they impatiently waited for you to order.

"Hmph," you said, letting out an irritated exhale. "Get me a matcha."

Levi raised an eyebrow at you.

"Out of all the specialty ones here, you go with something as basic as that?"

You were beyond confused over why this random barista in a small, local café was giving you this much grief.

"Oh what the hell? Just get me the damned matcha, you asshole," you snapped at him as you tossed your card towards him.

He quickly grabbed your card and put in the order with an unamused look on his face.

You kept your gaze on him as he begrudgingly prepared your drink. After about a minute, you glanced towards the door that opened as a tall gentleman that also wore the barista apron stepped inside. He was average height, but seemed much taller, likely due to the fact that the barista in front of you that decided to chastise you for ordering a matcha barely rose above you in terms of height—and you were not a tall person.

The new barista went behind the counter and started taking the other customers that had gathered behind you, removing the "unavailable" sign that covered up the specialty coffees. You frowned as he smoothly chatted with the customers, with your expression quickly turning into a scowl as you saw him remove the sign.

"I'm guessing he's the barista that actually knows how to make coffee?" you said, shooting another unamused look towards Levi as he walked back with your cup of matcha. 

You heard a quiet grunt from the grumpy barista you had the misfortune of being served by and you sighed as you picked up the cup and took a sip of the matcha that he reluctantly made you.

You paused, a little taken aback by the taste.

It was pretty damn good—much better than any you've ever gotten at Starbucks, anyhow. 

"Onyankopon brought over some specialty recipes that he apparently grew up making over at Marley," Levi grumbled to you. "That is why I couldn't make the specialty coffees."

After he said that, he subtly scowled at himself. Why he was even explaining himself to you was beyond him. You were just some random undergrad that stopped by and said annoying undergrad things. He had literally no reason to explain himself or justify his actions.

"So what brought you in? You're undergrad, right?" Levi asked, prompting you to look up at him. "Didn't classes just end? Most of you are back at your parents by now."

You sighed and pursed your lips, with a dark look entering your eyes. Levi was able to tell that you were biting your tongue on some information that was relevant, but that you didn't feel like divulging.

"Yes," you finally said. "I had some shit come up and had to move last minute, so I'm stuck on campus for now."

You took another sip of your matcha as a frown grew on your face.

"But at this point, I'm pretty sure it was a fucking mistake."

"Oh?" Levi asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

"I had to take a two-hour bus ride here since my asshole of an ex just happened to be busy on the day I need his car, but as luck would have it, my roommate also happens to be out, so I can't even get my damn keys from them, hence why I'm here getting chastised by you because I ordered a damned matcha instead of being in my new apartment and getting settled in."

You looked up at Levi upon hearing his silence.

"How unfortunate," he finally responded in an uninterested tone.

You rolled your eyes at his response.

"God, talking to you is a pain in the ass," you spat before quickly finishing the rest of the matcha and throwing a spare dollar onto the counter as a tip before getting up.

You paused before walking away, turning slightly towards the grumpy barista.

"You should probably consider the fact that people don't order your teas because they don't want to order from you."

"Ah?" Levi muttered as he took the dollar off the counter.

"People generally don't like interacting with someone that acts like a dick right off the bat."

~~~~~

Levi frowned to himself as he kicked off his shoes upon walking in the front door, placing them neatly upside down on the shoe rack next to the door. He sighed as he flipped on the light switch to his empty apartment. He didn't particularly mind living on his own, but Miche was a good roommate and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little on edge over who his new roommate was going to be.

He walked over to his bedroom, pushing the door open as he lifted his barista apron over his head to put away for the night. Seeing the apron reminded him of the café, and in particular, the conversation he had with a certain undergraduate student that he was forced to serve and insulted him right before they left.

Tch, he thought as he recalled the comment you made.

I'm not a dick. What the fuck.

He shut his closet after he put the apron away, his mood soured by the recollection of your conversation, although he wasn't in a great mood to begin with in the first place. He looked at the clock on his nightstand and saw that he had a few hours before he was supposed to "go to bed". Being a notorious insomniac, "going to bed" basically meant laying down and staring at the ceiling for a few hours. He rarely ever got to actually sleep, but the few minutes he can occasionally catch were enough to keep him going.

He walked over to his desk, turning the switch on his small desk lamp and pulling out a folder from his backpack that was hung up against the side of his desk. He pulled out a stack of paper and neatly placed them at the center of his desk. He took a seat in his chair and flipped through the packets, frowning at the sheer number he had yet to go through. His original plan for the day was to get home and read through some of these papers that Erwin had assigned him to read before he went back to lab on Monday—it was currently a Friday. He knew Erwin had high expectations for him. Erwin would even occasionally say that Levi was the best student he's ever had, which made Levi immediately want to shrivel up in discomfort.

He glanced up from the papers in his hand. His room was "empty". Miche had commonly made fun of him and said that Levi always made his space look like no one actually lived there. The top of his desk was always empty, his bed was always made, and not a single article of clothing was in plain sight. Levi Ackermann was just that type of person. It heavily contributed to why he was so on edge over who his new roommate would be and if they would even be compatible in terms of living style.

He turned on his phone to check the time, having ignored it for the entire latter half of the day.

7:30pm. That meant he had time to get at least a few papers reviewed. 

He frowned as he looked through his notifications and saw an unknown number appear. The texts were from this afternoon, so he knew it was long past an appropriate time to respond.

> [unknown number (12:35pm)]: hey, miche said you'd be free this afternoon so i can get your keys? does 3:00 work > [unknown number (1:45pm)]: im on the bus ride over. i don't have a car, so would we be able to handle this so i'm not stranded outside?

He sighed as he locked his phone and placed it onto his desk. It was just his luck that he went into a last-minute shift right as his new roommate contacted him. He knew that this new roommate was going to be irate with him since it's been around 6 hours since they sent that text. This just added more things onto Levi's plate that he really didn't need right now.

Before he could move to pick up his phone to shoot a reply at this unknown number, he heard not-so-gentle knocking on the door. Knowing that this was likely his new roommate that he had unintentionally ignored all day, he internally groaned to himself before forcing himself out of his chair.

He heard another knock as he made his way from his bedroom to the front door, bracing himself as he unlocked the door and pulled it open.

A frown appeared on his face as he looked at the person in front of him in confusion. 

"What the hell?" he muttered as he saw an equally confused expression appear on your face. 

That annoying undergrad from this afternoon?

"Did you follow me home?" 

You raised an eyebrow at him. The last person you had expected to be greeted with was the grumpy barista that you had the misfortune of interacting with earlier in the day.

"Did you?" you retorted.

Levi scoffed.

"How the hell would I have followed you home if I was here first?"

He cursed to himself as he recalled the monologue you gave him earlier on in the day.

You had said that you had to suffer on a bus ride and couldn't get in contact with your new roommate to get keys to the unit. Now that you were standing in front of the door to his apartment, his frown only grew.

Your eyes widened as you finally put together the pieces.

"Wait," you asked, shaking your head slightly. "Are you-?"

"I guess so," Levi responded with an unamused sigh.

"Fuck."

#: @levisbrat25 @gothgril69 @sckerman @berrijam @notgoodforlife @meowjaa @averysmolbear @roseofdarknessblog @bejewelledd @hhighkey @ayame236 @sad-darksoul @velouria17

[t0ast-ghost]

Umm STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE THOUGHTS!!!!

You thought this series was dead and buried? Well maybe it is. This may stay in my drafts forever. But I suppose if you’re reading this it’s not.

Warnings for a flashing gif

and spoilers (obviously)

So enjoy and forward we go:

- They kinda just make you watch stars with nice background music for *checks time* two minutes and fifty seconds (no, there are no credits during this time)

- I’m so hyped for this, the credit music is so nostalgic and amazing

- Tron ass graphics <3

- Evolved Klingon design! Let’s go! Also they’re speaking Klingon which I think star trek is super proud of creating

- It’s so alien (as in the movie alien)

- Is that the lizard head rock from the Apple? No it’s Vulcan- damn what’d they do to Spock?

- It’s giving the dark crystal or labyrinth

- THEYVE GOT A VULCAN LANGUAGE?! I mean I knew they would but they created one for the first movie???

- When the Vulcan Master (it’s what imdb calls her) is reading Spock’s mind then the shot goes back to her face and she looks down and there’s a fucking vine boom and she smiles slightly at him like ‘THIS FUCKER IS HAVING GAY THOUGHTS’

- Jim is calling him <3

- It’s interesting how they pronounce Spock’s name differently

- Life is a Dream is my favourite song (It’s the one with the horns)

- Omg hi Kirk hi

- They gave him another Vulcan? Kirk must miss his husband so much

- imagine ten years after your favourite show ends, they make a movie and there are all your favourite guys again! I would have screamed

- Hiya Scotty

- Kirk looks so unhappy. Hmmm wonder why

- Aww this is such a cute conversation between Kirk and Scotty

- KIRK GETS TEARS IN HIS EYES SEEING THE NEW ENTERPRISE OMG. HE LOVES HER SM

- This is the slowest fucking shuttle ever

- I like how there’s just guys floating in spacesuits around

- ….Welp that’s over now. The ship has docked. Finally.

- oh the elevators are just voice controlled now. No handles.

- OMG HI UHURA!!! HI CHECKOV! HI SULU!!!

- Kirk’s about to go fire someone. This’ll be fun.

- Yeah Decker does not take this well. Kirk is just a petty bitch who loves his ship too much and definitely misses his husbands

- WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? Wha- who- no wonder people don’t like using transporters that’s horrifying

- OMG THATS JANICE RAND!!!

- Kirk has turned into the idiot admiral that he used to hate dealing with

- OMG HIIIII BONES HES GOT A BEARD. They drafted him???? Wait no. JIM BROUGHT HIM BACK hehe

- “Damn it, Bones. I need you. Badly!” He missed his husband so he made him come back to fight a war

- That was such a normal moment between Kirk and McCoy. Sooo normal. I’m normal about it. Sooo normal.

- THAT LITTLE DUDE IN SPACE JUST DID A FLIP

- hi bones hi

- “Jim. You’re pushing.”

- They gave McCoy a better perch, he’s got a railing that’s closer to Kirk now

- time to ask: what is happening

- “Tor-pe-do away!” The slow voice really added to that

- Why is McCoy just there on his knees?!?

- Bones is NOT happy to be here. This is why he divorced Kirk (he’s still married to Spock though)

- McCoy can see that Jim is being unreasonable. But what is that stance and why aren’t they looking into each others eyes? (Edit: not sure what stance I’m talking about but yeah, why aren’t they?)

- It’s been 50 minutes literally nothing has happened except reintroductions

- HI SPOCK HIII HES SO HOT WHATS HE DOING HERE?

- damn why’d Spock just ignore Chekov like that

- Jim is so desperate. He wants this man so bad. He’s like literally starry eyed

- For Chekov this is like the worst high school reunion ever

- HI CHAPEL HAIII

- damn why is Spock ignoring his husbands :(((

- Bones looks so sad. He missed Spock

- Kirk and McCoy are about to interrogate their long gone ex husband. “Will you please sit down.” This is pretty much exactly what it would be like if they got divorced and didn’t see each other for awhile. Spock is trying to separate his emotions from the situation, McCoy is trying to be playful but sneaks in a question about what he’s been doing, and Kirk just wants them back he’s so desperate

- Not gonna say what I’m thinking cause I think that would be disrespectful

- “I believe they may hold my answers.” “Well, isn’t it lucky for you that we just happened to be heading your way?” “Bones! We need him. I need him.” Jim if you say that while staring into Spock’s eyes it’s a bit queer (happy pride month)

- They got the new Apple watches

- Spock is pulling a Deanna Troi

- They brought back Spock to wear the finest eyeshadow and serve silent cunt

- Shapes and colours by the likes of which I’ve never seen!

- I like how Bones just came onto the bridge FOR NO REASON but to kinda look shocked when Kirk was about to do something silly

- Most of this movie feels like, ‘look at this cool set/effects thing for a very long time’ and they are cool

- I now truly understand what a ‘long shot’ is

- Uh oh Kirk. Your husband got zapped!

- huh? whuh? Why’d it take Ilia?

- Everyone that comes onto the bridge takes a second to go what the f-

- Wow that’s just a pussy- *gets schmacked*

- Did Spock just fucking blue screen?

- just noticed Kirk in short sleeves <3

- ILIA BURST THROUGH THE WALL

- Why did they replicate her into high heels

- I love Star Treks idea that love can bring anyone back. Like if anyone is dead and someone loves them enough there’s no way they’re staying dead. And if you bring up Tasha, technically she didn’t die right there and then. And if you bring up Jadzia, fuck you

- What is Spock doing, why’s he mutineering

- They successfully contacted Ilia. There’s something so sad about it being her but not her at all

- Omg. Spock why would you do that?

- “That’s Spock. Damn him! Bring him back here.” Gotta wrangle your husbands

- I was going to say something about pussy and then Spock said “penetrated” so-

- Pussy so good you get blasted backwards- I’ve got to stop

- Spock laughing omg omg

- jaw dropped. That was gay. That was so gay!

- I like how Kirk just has these two guys around to explain things to him

- “It knows only that it needs, commander, but like so many of us, it does not know what.” Do you need something, Spock? What are you trying to say? Do you need the love of your husbands?

- HES JUST GONNA BLOW UP THE SHIP???

- I got legitimately jumpscared by Spock’s tear

He’s really pretty tho and they’re observing him

- “Is this all that I am? Is there nothing more?” This is the greatest moment in the whole movie thus far because it goes back to really what star trek is about. Talking about life through aliens.

- He’s bringing his husbands with him awwe

- woah how are they on top of the enterprise?!Okay I guess this is happening now

- VOYAGER??????????? Oh wait this is a real ship, isn’t it?

- So Decker is going to sacrifice himself to join with V’Ger, isn’t he?

- He rolls back to his husbands

- “As much as you wanted the Enterprise, I want this.” Jim did really want the enterprise, but he also just wanted love, same with Decker, they both just want their loves back.

- Shiny

- Kirk and McCoy staring, jaws dropped like, ‘What is this shit?’

- “And a lot of foolish human emotions, right, Mr. Spock?” “Quite true, Doctor. Unfortunately we will have to deal with them as well.” THEY’RE FLIRTING AGAIN YES!!!!

- It’s a little funny that Spock definitely arrived on the ship ready to stay. Like he cut his hair and everything just to see his husbands.

- “The human adventure is just beginning” what does THAT mean?

Well okay. Time to watch Wrath of Khan, I guess. I hear it’s better…

Masterpost

[urf1lterr]

lovesick | pedro pascal [4]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

previous chapter: [3] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 10.6k

status: in progress

author's note: so sorry for the long wait! but i tried making this chapter longggg. i typically have my days off altogether and the rest of the week booked with work/school. i try to post many chapters within my short timeframe (bc im booked af) so pls expect another update soon after this one! sadly, it takes me around 8-10 hours to write one bc its hard to think lol. also, i don't want this to be too long of a series and kinda wanna connect the dots- slowly but surely, ya know? not edited.

"So, he just came knocking on your door at 6am?" Joon questioned, taking a sip of his smoothie soon afterwards. "I can't even wake up that early."

"We had to do that everyday for our last job."

"I woke up ten minutes before I had to be out the door," he shrugged. "Men get ready fast."

"Anyway," you eyed him as he cluelessly did the same, confused as to why you wouldn't look away. "I don't remember him coming."

"Yeah, because you fucking freaked out and hallucinated over Lady Gaga," Jules exclaimed, you automatically cringing just at the horrible memories you've recently faced with that damn cat.

Once she explained what had happened hours after you had woken up, you were disturbingly shocked.

And the fact that your sleepiness was to blame had you going insane- imagine all the other odd things you may had committed while under the covers.

But you will admit you did remember some of that night's events clearly, again like you practically making out with Lady Gaga- although she was the one who licked your face endlessly first.

Mortified just by the thoughts, you will never be able to face Pedro again sanely.

How could you when you recently dreamed about a man 25 years older being intimate with you- that's...confusing. And the worst part of it all was you couldn't say anything to anyone with the fear of being judged or laughed at- maybe both.

The thing was you couldn't quite understand why you had to dream about that. Maybe your time of the month was coming and your hormones targeted the first guy you had nonstop contact with?

No, that would've been Joon.

Attraction may had played a part but Joon definitely had that, Pedro as well but a little different...age-wise at least. There's no way you felt allured for men with bad jokes and rough skin- no offense. Right?

He did text you that same morning he dropped by and commented on how creepy you are half asleep and whether or not you agreed to his 'business' proposal. Not trying to start a conversation you knew you couldn't finish, out of second-hand shame, you just replied a simple:

LOL but busy with school atm to make a final decision- tell ya later

That later still hasn't arrived.

Unfortunately, you forgot to ask him why he made a random visit that morning- but you weren't going to ask him days later. In your mind, you need to avoid him. There's no way you'd be able to act normal after have unholy fascinations about him.

Not that it'll be a problem, you two hadn't seen each other for weeks before your cafe encounter, you're sure you can do it again without him noticing your distance.

It's been about two days since then which meant you didn't have to prioritize so much of your time on homework, you'll just save that for Sunday when it's all due.

"Did you bother to ask him why?" Jules added, turning to you. "He obviously wasn't coming to see me- I barely know the guy."

"You do know him!" you argue as she rolls her eyes. "You literally got mad at me for not recognizing him the first time we met."

"He's a celebrity- everybody knows him," she defends before tilting her head in curiosity. "But you two are oddly close, it's kind of weird."

"No," you shake your head, trying to laugh off her suspicions. "We are casual friends who fan girl over the same things."

People did take notice how close Pedro and you were but it wasn't anybody's fault you two had so much in common. Both of you loved Starbucks, going on hikes- when you weren't lazy, and believe Matt Healy is extremely attractive.

If they have a problem with that they can sue you.

"I see it," Joon adds, jumping up a bit. "Him and I barely talk and we're men- we should be bonding easily!"

"You're...you," Jules cringes, making Joon glare in return. "I can understand why he chooses not to be close to you."

Laughing, you watch as Joon quickly flips her the finger before he continues on with the conversation. "I just feel like he always comes around only to see you, it was pretty obvious since the first time he took us home."

Furrowing your eyebrows, you didn't understand what he meant by that. Pedro offered all three of you a ride home, not just you.

Already feeling done with this topic, you wanted to switch it before things started escalating and freaky theories started unfolding. They had every right to question your friendship, but you were starting to think they might be leading down a road where they may soon develop other impressions as to what your friendship might have been.

Why are you even thinking that? That's so inappropriate to imagine.

"You two are silly, he probably needed my advice on something or wanted to workout," you suggest, their faces showing they weren't fully convinced. "But anywho, did you call Yoongi yet?"

"I don't think that's a great idea," Joon declared, adjusting in your warm sofa. "He's not really a skating kind of guy."

Since it was Friday and you had no plans, you thought it would be a fun idea to be adventurous for once and do something you would never do on a regular basis.

Ice Skate.

Your friends were extremely down with the idea, but you needed a fourth person to make the group complete. Why not a skinny, impatient blonde man who would probably spend the whole night complaining about why this plan was awful?

Right now you could use some other grumpiness in your life.

"Just tell him to go," you beam back, clapping your hands in excitement as you'll soon be able to fall countless of times on the ice. "I'll buy him hot cocoa."

"You better do it or he'll never let that go," Joon states.

After hours of sitting around and blasting random music through your speakers, the three of you were ready to set off on your journey of locating the ice rink.

If it wasn't for Joon's constant whining to stop walking to take pictures of the scenery you probably would've arrived 15 minutes sooner than your actual arrival, but too bad your friend is a nature freak.

"You taking pictures of the pigeons better not be the reason why you're late," you heard Yoongi grumble as the three of you finally found him sitting on a bench near the entrance of the rink, staring directly at Joon who just scoffed.

"I'm sorry if my happiness bothers you," Joon snapped back as Yoongi just stood up from his seat and made his way to your trio.

Grabbing your ice skates wasn't too difficult as the long line seemed to flow by smoothly, but standing on them was a different story.

"I can't do this," you squeal as your hurriedly motion your arms around to find some balance. "I'm falling!"

Yoongi sent you a questionable look as he watched your poor attempts to stay still embarrassing. "We're not even on the ice yet."

Feeling a hand grab a hold on your shoulders and practically drag your feet towards the ice, you glance up to see Jules steadily directing you to face your fears.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

"Are you going to push her in?!" you hear Joon gasp a few feet behind you but you couldn't turn your head as you rather focused your attention on yanking yourself off of Jules.

"It was her idea so she'll be the one going in first."

"Ahh!" you screech, putting all your pressure on your feet to stop her hard pull. Spiraling your ankles in the most crucial ways, you start to lightly slap her arms off you as she continues to fight them off.

One thing about her was she's going to make sure to remind you that this was your idea.

Feeling an arm gently tug you off her grip, you landed on Yoongi's side as Jules whined in return, offended that he ruined her vicious plan. Respectfully, he kept you stable with an arm wrapped behind your middle back as you gripped his other one, fearful she might snatch you away again.

"Why would you do that?!"

"I don't think watching her fall face first on the hard ice would be a fun sight to see," he bluntly returned as Jules huffed. "The sight of blood gives me the ick."

"I was waiting for that moment all afternoon," Jules sighed, disappointed that she wouldn't be seeing you fall- yet.

Waiting for her to walk away to go on the ice, you see Joon follow her before you released your friend, relieved that she wouldn't be partaking in her scandalous scheme just yet.

"You do know how to skate, right?" Yoongi asked, his uncertain eyes on yours as you crazily wave your arms in front of him to rub off his questionable thoughts.

"Do I? Of course I do!" you argue, making your way towards the ice until you were two feet away from it. Putting your feet on the edge, you hesitate as you could feel the cold breeze wrap around you legs. "I'm gonna go now."

"Yippy," he states, waiting at your poor attempts to convince him.

Giving him a thumbs up, you clap your hands together to try to reassure yourself that you could do this, forgetting that he was right behind you secretly laughing.

Taking one final breath, you placed your right foot on top of the ice steadily, trying your best not to make any harsh movements, until you felt a hard jerk on your upper body, making you lose yourself in an instant.

"God, if you don't know how to skate why would you suggest it?" Yoongi grumbled, gliding both your bodies along the ice as he held tightly onto your arms. You were practically skating like a wet dog in front of him, begging with your eyes for him not to abandon you.

"I always wanted to try."

Sending you an annoyed look, you zipped your mouth as his arms were now securing you, closing any gaps there may have been and giving you the ride of your life.

Shutting your eyes harshly, you didn't dare to witness the environment around as you felt the icy wind slap your face the faster you two- or at least by Yoongi's swaying, got.

There were times where he did pretend to lose his balance, causing you to cry in horror and him immediately placing his hand over your mouth by how loud you weaped.

But other than that, you came to enjoy his help as your two other friends rudely abandoned you guys in order to practice their poor attempts of leaping across the rink.

"Okay," Yoongi started, releasing his left hand from your side and keeping you close with only his other. "Now you try on your own."

Fear creeping up in your face, you rapidly shake your head in disagreement and try catching his recent abandoned arm, which he denied. "I can't."

"Can't or won't?" he countered back making you silent.

He did have a point.

"C'mon, it's not that hard. If Joon could do it, you can."

"He's literally on the ground right now," you whine as Yoongi quickly averts his eyes in search of your tall friend, soon finding Joon clutching his knee in pain as Jules records on her phone.

"No."

Sighing, he continues to look around, trying to plan out an idea that would at least convince you to slide a few feet alone without his help until he smirked and met your eyes.

"What would Matt Healy do?"

Widening your eyes, you were taken back by his question.

Only Pedro used that line on you.

And for some reason it felt odd when Yoongi did the same. You shouldn't be bothered by his choice of words...but you were a little.

He wasn't him to be saying it.

"He wouldn't force me to do something I didn't want to do," you reply back, causing him to groan.

"I feel like you just want to be in my arms," he retorted with a grin, immediately making you revolt and fly out of his arms, your bottom hitting the ice hard. "Well that's one way to make you skate."

Feeling immediate pain on the back of your thighs, you just knew you were going to be bruised and swollen the next day. But hey, this technically counts for your workout for the week.

Awkwardly swaying your body around, you couldn't get up off the damn ice. You were sure you looked like a fish out of water by how crazy you were moving.

"Get on your knees," Yoongi commented, causing you to send him a death glare as he lifted his hands up in defense. "It helps you stand."

Or he could just grab your arms and help you himself.

Cautiously following his suggestion, you slowly pull your right leg up and place it firmly on the ice before slowly trying to do so with your left one. As you began to feel satisfied with the weight being supported, you felt your body finally working and lifting up off the ground before he poked your shoulder- making you fall again.

"I'm going to murder you!" you threaten as you stare at him on your back, whole body restlessly laying on the ground in misery as he cackles loudly.

He may have advantage on the ice, but oh man- once you regain your balance off it you were going to end that slender man's life.

"Isn't this just a sight to see," you heard someone exclaim before hands grab your arms and soon lift you back on your feet.

Moving your eyes to the ones in front of you, you burst out in smiles. "Bella! Nico!"

"I take this as my queue to leave,'" you hear Yoongi mumbles but you swiftly grab his arm from his close proximity and halt his plans.

He was not going to desert you now.

"What are you girls doing here?"

Not seeing them for a few weeks didn't make things awkward, but different. It was like catching up with old friends, even though you barely met them less than three months ago.

"Had nothing to do tonight so why not ice skate?" Nico giggled.

Bella examined you up and down before pointing at your head. "My god, your hair grew so long. Has it really been that long?"

Rolling your eyes, you were about to answer her before Yoongi cut in. "No, it's her fake extenstions."

Gasping, you turn your body to him and smack his shoulder as he smacks you back. One thing about him, he's all about equality. You touch him, he touches you- simple.

You don't see the way Nico and Bella exchange smirks to one another before Nico slides in front of you and pulls out her phone. "We should take a selfie! You know, for memories."

Laughing, you agree. You took some pictures with them but never really out of the work environment.

Uncomfortably standing still, Yoongi hastily moves to the side a bit, not wanting to intrude this moment you were having with your friends. He was a pretty sociable person, but only if they had things in common and he fairly knew them.

Yoongi didn't know these two young girls and he sure as hell didn't want to be the one being kicked out of this picture- so why not kick himself out first?

"Where are you going, we need your long arm to get us all in the frame!" Bella exclaimed, motioning Yoongi to move back as he sent her a flustered glance.

"I can just take it with the three of you."

"Nonsense!" Nico argued back, shaking her head as you giggled. "We don't leave people out."

Biting his bottom lip a bit, he scratches the back of his neck swiftly before increasing the speed of his skates to the girl, accepting her phone. "I suppose."

Fixing your posture, you stand behind your friend as he carefully raises his right arm up in the air, positioning the phone that was able to capture all four of you in the frame.

Pulling out the gummiest smile, you bursted out a gigantic grin after seeing the rare radiant expression Yoongi was giving. He was never one to show much emotion so finding him giving in for a picture amused you.

Taking the phone out of his hands, Bella examined the screen before chuckling. "Wow, you've got one adorable smile."

You could've sworn you saw Yoongi blush as he lowered his head while shaking off her compliment, trying to act natural but he wasn't fooling anyone.

He was shy.

Gasping at the sight in front of her, Nico pointed at the concession cart near one of the exits of the ice. "They have hot cocoa! We must get some."

Faking a groan, Bella allowed her friend to drag her away but not before sending you a pout to follow, which you were happy to do. You were freezing to death without even realizing it until you stopped your attempts to skate for the picture.

"I was promised a free cup," Yoongi stated as he was gliding behind you, softly pushing your back as you proceeded to do nothing but allow him to direct you to where your desired hot cocoa was.

Scoffing a little, you shush him as you reached the exit ramp. Jumping off, the two of you slowly waddled to Bella and Nico who were next in line.

"Wait," you start, pausing your footsteps which resulted in him almost falling after slamming to your side. "Shouldn't we ask Joon and Jules if they want one?"

Peeking over your shoulder, Yoongi looks back down to you. "Nah, don't wanna ruin their fun."

Following his recent glance, you could see Joon and Jules in front of one another, both holding hands as they try to catch a faster pace while twirling in big circles.

You were sure they were eventually going to knock a small child over soon.

"Next," you hear the worker call out, sitting behind his register waiting for your arrival.

Quickly walking up, you place your order as nothing else but the hot drinks seemed to interest you. The total came out to be the cost as what four drinks at your local cafe would be, but you shouldn't be surprised since this place was pretty popular to the public.

Pulling out his wallet so fast, you didn't have to process what Yoongi was doing until you caught the view of his credit card as he handed it over to the man in front of you.

"No-" you try intercepting what had just happened by giving your card to the worker who just shrugged as he had already paid for the drinks on Yoongi's card. "Why would you do that?"

"You're too slow," Yoongi bluntly said as he grabbed the two drinks and moved to the side so the next person in line could place their order.

"But it hadn't even been three seconds since he said the total before you handed him the card," you protest.

He handed you your cup, hoping it'll shut you up as he took a small sip from his own. "And?"

Is he being serious? "'And,'" you question as he continued to be unaware as to what you were getting at. "Since the beginning I vowed to buy you hot cocoa."

Yoongi laughed at how stubborn you were becoming. "Vowed? What a great word choice for this scenario, fiance."

Rolling your eyes at his teasing, you hated the fact he was avoiding your question. You knew he did it because he wanted to be a gentleman, but the problem was he didn't want to admit he was one.

Again, he was being shy.

"I see you are kind," you smirk as he gave you a disgusted glance. "Don't worry, I won't tell people you have a heart."

Before he could leave a snarky comeback, Nico and Bella came back in giggles as Yoongi retreated back to his natural state of looking lifeless. "Oh my gosh- we went to get napkins and I kid you not I may have poured my drink on the back of this poor little girl."

Lightly gasping, you widen your eyes as Yoongi confusingly replies back. "May have? You don't know if you did or not?"

Bella makes an accountable face, scrunching her nose in the process. "Okay, I did. But she's the one who ran into me!"

"Well, she was really small and you kind of didn't search your surroundings before kneeing her," Nico exposed, causing Yoongi and you to give each other a concerned look.

"You kneed her?!"

"Only in her side," Bella excused herself, sending Nico a betrayed look. "It wasn't like it was her stomach."

"It practically was...," Nico mumbled but became silent when her co-star eyed her hard.

Coughing uncomfortably, Yoongi caught everyone's attention as he tried to avert the conversation into something that wasn't as horrific as striking a child with hot cocoa and a knee. "We should probably hit the ice again soon before Jules and Joon find out we got these drinks without them."

"Jules is here?!" Bella beamed, searching around for her through the large gatherings of people on the ice. "I missed that crazy lady, she was the only one who would get my coffee order right."

"She told me she would threaten to get the baristas fired if they kept getting it wrong," Nico recalled, chewing her mouth a little. "That's why I stopped letting her take my orders."

Sighing, you looked up in the ceiling in disapproval as you could feel Yoongi laughing his ass off beside you. That was very Jules of her to do.

After another two hours of trying to figure out how to skate, and basically latching onto Yoongi the whole time as Bella and Nico were doing laps around you guys, you finally made it home.

To say you were exhausted would be an understatement- you were drained.

No, seriously. You hadn't worked out this much since Jules and you almost missed the subway two months ago and had to run three blocks to catch it on time.

That day was dreadful, but you were sure if you went to bed you were going to wake up lifeless like a worm.

"I call the shower first!" you hear Jules scream, running to her room in order to grab her belongings but you were faster and instantly made your way to the bathroom, locking the door before she could break in. "You bitch! How dare you steal it with my back turned!"

Grinning evilly to yourself, you wanted to get your night routines over with so you could hit the pillows quickly. Even after taking off all your makeup, taking a very steamy shower, and doing your nightly skin care routine, you were sure you could easily knock out sitting on the toilet if you had the chance.

We all have done it once in our lives.

Opening the door, the steam flows out smoothly as you face your very displeased roommate on the other side, glaring at you. "All yours," you smile, stepping to the side but she roughly pushes you in response, causing you to yelp as you manage to catch your balance midway.

Mental note, burn her eggs next breakfast.

Stepping into your room, you change into an oversized hoodie and sweats before throwing yourself under your covers in excitement.

The moment you've been waiting for all day: sleep.

Closing your eyes, you feel all your senses slowly drifting away from your body as relaxation crept up from all around. It was truly intoxicating how in trance you were.

But of course with your luck, nothing goes as planned- ever.

Wildly jumping up from the loud blaring of your phone, you cover your face in agony as the vibrations and noise cause pain throughout your entire body.

Who the hell was calling you at 10 o'clock at night? This should be illegal.

After taking a minute to control yourself, the ringing stopped. Good, now you won't have to make time to engage in a conversation. Quickly falling back down onto your pillows, it wasn't even ten seconds later before you feel your phone going off like crazy again.

With you eyes shut, you move your hands around your bed until you feel the cool object underneath your pillow. Lazily pressing any button, without batting one eye open, you move the phone to your ear before releasing a groggy, "What?"

"What a lovely way to greet somebody, kiddo."

You instantly freeze, automatically thinking about the vivid dream you had about him, then Lady Gaga, and felt a blush creeping in.

Slowly pulling the phone away, you let out a loud but fast scream before moving it back. How the hell are you going to begin a conversation without thinking about his lips on yours. "What do you want?"

Pausing for a second, you can hear him move around through his end. "Did you just scream?"

It's not like you didn't just dream about him kissing all over your body two nights ago.

"Did you just wake me up to ask me the obvious answer?"

Act like you don't care. Like you are perfectly fine.

He chuckles lightly and you can tell by his tone he was close to passing out too. "Somebody's cranky, is it past your bedtime?" Pedro teased.

You were definitely not in the mood to handle his ridicules at this hour, especially by how nervous he was slowly making you. What did he want?

"Yes," you simply reply before hitting the red button, ending the call and laying your head back on your pillow. Good, just end it before you make a bigger fool out of yourself.

It hadn't even been another ten seconds before your phone was ringing once again. Pulling it up to your face, you let out a huff. What a shocker, it was him again.

"You better have an insanely good reason as to why you chose to wake me up in the middle of my dream," you immediately say as you press the 'accept' button.

Hearing him laugh, you just know he has a sarcastic comment coming any second. "Wake you up? Honey, you're still living your dream talking to me."

Honey.

No, not another nickname for him to call you in future dreams.

Shaking that thought away, you rejected the idea of him being in any more dreams- you forbid it.

Loss at words for a second, you almost let your next words trip over one another before calmly gaining your composure at the incidental choice of your pet name.

"So funny," you reply back, trying your best to sound sane. "Pretty sure I was dreaming of a very shirtless Matt Healy playing 'Please Be Naked' to me."

Why the fuck would you slip that out.

"Are you trying to hint at something?" he smirks, making you press mute and hold your hand over your mouth to hold back the screams you feared would release.

Feeling like your soul was about to leave your body, you couldn't believe he just said that.

Actually, you couldn't believe you would even recommend that song. God, your sleepiness was messing with your mind.

Finding your energy once again, you unmute the call and try to seem unfazed by his last comment. "Yes, that I want to sleep. Goodbye now."

Before you could hit the red button again, you could hear him chanting over the phone to do the exact opposite. "Don't!"

Groaning, you clutch the phone harder in despair. "I am so tired. Don't do this to me, please. I am a girl who values her sleep!" you whine as you hear him continue his light giggles in the background. "If I don't sleep I will die, is this what you want. Are you trying to kill me?"

"I can reassure you I don't plan on keeping you up long," he explains. "And I wouldn't dare wish for your death."

Your heart fluttering, you glare at your chest. "Then what do you want?"

Moving his phone from one ear to the other, he lays in his bed while smiling at his ceiling. "You," he declares, making you widen your eyes as he shuffles around in his blanket. "Tomorrow, let's hang out."

Sitting up against your bed frame, you furrow your brow. "Hang out? For what?" There's no way you will be able to act normal for a long period of time, your weak-self can't do it.

Placing a hand over his chest, he lets out a light hiss in fake hurt by your comeback before continuing. "Can't I hang out with you by choice and not by a work schedule? Unless you're so disgusted by me." That's when he started his fake cries. "I'm so sorry I am not Matt Healy and can't do a great British accent."

Shaking your head, you try to intervene as his ugly cries become louder through the line. "That's not what I meant, stop being dramatic," you complain as he instantly stops while smiling widely. "Is there a specific reason why you want to hang out?"

Taking a deep breath, he fiddles with the fingers on his non-occupied hand. "Does there need to be a reason?"

You pause for a second. He's acting too kind for your liking and it's making you question what his intentions are. In this point of time, you're sure he's going to take that moment to convince you to work with him in Canada.

"With you there's always a reason."

Scoffing lightly, he grumbles. "I just want to go on a hike and need a hiking partner."

Oh hell no, you already did enough working out this evening. You were not about to do that again, that's for sure.

"Yeah, nooo," you exhale lowly. "I already did too much working out with my body if you know what I mean and-"

"I don't know what that means," he cuts you off.

"It means I am going to be sore for days so my body has no strength to walk for more than five minutes," you declare as he falls silent.

After a few seconds that felt like forever, he replies. "Fine," he blankly states. "Have a goodnight, sweetheart."

The warmth as blood began drawing to your face became present as you quickly reply with a simple "night" before ending the call. And for some reason you felt as if you couldn't breathe normally by the pounding on your chest.

What the hell was happening to you. Looking up at the ceiling, you silently pray you don't have a Lady Gaga 2.0 fiasco.

As you were questioning why your heart made you feel as if you were going under cardiac arrest the night before, your body was currently making you feel if you really needed to make that trip to the ER by how tender you were.

It also didn't help that Jules was the one waking you up at the crack of dawn, half asleep with her eye mask clinging onto her forehead.

"W-why are you-" you grumble, rubbing your eyes as you look at the alarm clock near your bedside. "-waking me up at 6:18am? It's Saturday."

She sent you a death glare for assuming she randomly wanted to wake you up for the fun of it as she was the one who was woken up first. "Someone's here for you."

Positioning your body upwards, you squint your eyes up at her. "What are you talking about?"

"Why don't you take a look for yourself," she gritted her teeth, swaying her head towards your door.

Slowly standing up, you make your way to it before sneaking a peak of the view of your living room. That's when you see a very annoying man you were sure you both agreed on the phone last night to not go hiking.

Luckily, he didn't notice your wandering eyes as his were glued to his phone, scrolling through his social media.

What was he doing here? You can't face him without thinking about his body wrapped around yours and his lips doing dangerous things.

Oh no, you truly were screwed.

Lightly shutting your door, you nervously turn back to your roommate who looks displeased. "I told him no."

"No means yes, I guess," she replies, snaking her arms around her body for warmth. "I'm going back to bed."

You could hear her walk out of your room as you frantically begin searching for something warm yet comfortable clothes to wear on this undesired hike. You knew if you tried backing out he would stay until you caved, he was very persistent to get what he wanted.

And what he wanted was for you to get your ass up and exercise.

You were also certain you heard Jules let out a "thanks for the invite" to him before hearing her bedroom door shut.

Running out of your room, you made sure not to look in his direction so he wouldn't see your morning appearance clearly- well he already has but why reveal yourself in this state again?

Quickly brushing your hair, teeth, and washing your face, you change into a baggy green sweatshirt and some black workout leggings before slipping on suited running shoes.

Try to act natural. Give him little attention so he won't speculate anything. You aren't into old men and did not vision him smooching you on your sofa.

"You are so buying me breakfast," you deadpan as you walked straight out of your door, not even daring to wait for him to follow.

Good, be straightforward.

Laughing to himself, Pedro promptly jumped off the couch and jogged after you once you shut the door on him and continued down the halls to the elevators.

Finally catching up, he barely made it through the elevator doors as they were closing to find you leaning against the corner, mad and tired. "Good morning to you, too."

You let out a small cry as you lay your head against the wall in pain from how frustratingly exhausted you were. If one cold breeze hit you outside you were sure you were going to burst into tears.

"Oh, come one," he walks over to you and nudged your shoulder to wake up some more. If he unexpectedly touched you again you were sure you were going to rip his arm off. "In a few minutes you'll be wide awake and fine."

"How dare you assume I'm going to be fine!" you whine, trying to hit his side but he manages to capture your arm and that's when you give up and allow your worn out body to fall on him.

He instantly wraps his arms around you as your head falls just beneath his chin, your eyes slowly closing and your thoughts drifting away as his warmth was making you drowsy.

You tried to stay focus, but your poor state was taking over and you suddenly weren't as anxious as you once were. Being sleepy really made your mind roam.

"Hey, now," he whispers and looks down to see you snuggling up against him. "You can't fall asleep on me. I do not want your security guards thinking I drugged you."

Tightening your arms on how lower sides, you ignore him as you feel yourself easing closer to dozing off by the constant beating of his heart. "Stop," you mumble, clutching your ears softly before positioning your head on the other side of his chest.

"What?" he curiously glances down at you.

"You heartbeat's annoying me," you lightly whine. "It's pounding against my ears."

Pedro was extremely glad you were too tired to process his heartbeat and the bright red tint plastered across his face. Your drained-self definitely saved him from embarrassment.

Finally, the elevator doors opened and you still weren't moving. You were too comfortable to make any effort to walk on your own and if he really wanted you to hang out this morning then he was going to have to find a way to make you move.

And to him, dragging you was his best option yet. But with care.

Delicately keeping his arms secured around you, he gradually walked out with you still engulfed by him, eyes shut and only moving your feet with his pace.

Honestly, you were surprised how much rhythm you had.

Stopping to pull out his car keys, he unlocked his car and opened his passenger side door once you two reached the garage complex. Gently, laying you on the seat, you station you head against the headrest as he buckled you in. "God, I really hope security doesn't report me."

And once he made it to his side and hopped in, he laughed at the state you were in, head instantly bent to your side and legs tangled together in hope to create some kind of warmth. "Adorable."

But of course you were too dumb to not catch that.

You were awoken by a small speed bump and the instant hit of warmth through the heat vents, your eyes slowly glancing around your surroundings. Taking a quick peep at the screen indicating the time, you read that it was almost 7am.

Tilting your head and leaning against the headrest, you lazily stare at Pedro as he continues to drive to god knows where.

"Don't I look so handsome in the morning?" he jokes before meeting your eyes, sending you a warm grin.

And handsome on top of you.

Shutting your eyes tightly, you beg your imagination to please shut the fuck up.

"You mean drastic," you mutter, moving your head to the opposite side, against the window to force some sleep again.

Better to make time fly by faster knocking out where you were sure you wouldn't say anything stupid.

"Hey, no..." he whines, moving his right arm across to shake your chin softly to keep you conscious. "Don't pass out on me again, I'm lonely."

"And I'm tired, deal with it."

Shuffling in his seat, he looks over to see you curling yourself up in a ball with your legs to your knees and arms wrapped around. Not thinking things throughly, he hits the brakes hard for a split second and watches as your body jolts forward before swinging back against his seat.

"What the fuck!" you shriek, propping your body up and facing him in pure rage. "Are you trying to irritate me?!"

"I'm lonely and you're not helping," Pedro calmly states, shrugging as you continue your daggers his way.

You were beyond pissed. How could he think you would be energetic and talkative right now? How could he attempt to make you fly out the window? You could feel your nerves slowly fading away by the fury growing inside you.

If he wanted you awake then fine, you were going to be awake.

Doesn't mean you had to talk though.

Silently sitting up, you stare at the windshield in front of you and watch the cars drive as he continues to spare you a glance every once in a while.

Honestly, your silence was terrifying the fuck out of him. Normally, you would have some snarky comeback or violent punch to return to his evil tactics, but you were doing nothing.

Literally nothing.

And he knows damn well the sights of trees and cars did not interest you.

"Hey...," you feel Pedro lightly poke your side, pursing his lips once he saw your non-existent reaction. "You're not mad, right?"

Ignoring him, you continue your deep stare now onto more trees as you two were getting closer to nature than streets. You must've been out for some time as you barely noticed how far away from the city you really were.

Joon would really love this.

Gradually lifting his arm up, his places it on top of your own and gives it a small squeeze while laying it there. "C'mon, don't ignore me."

As if that would make you stop your scheme.

Blinking slowly, you acted like you paid no attention to his puppy dog pleads as the car was making its way towards an almost empty parking lot, all surrounded by a forest that only had one route starting within an old wooden bridge.

Pulling up to a nearby parking spot, Pedro parked the car before turning back to try and capture your attention but nothing was working.

You were so damn frustrating, it was infuriating. But he was still desperate to gain your attention.

"Are you just going to sit in here all day or what?" he questions as he waves a hand over your face to make you blink.

You didn't and that kind of frightened him. Work of the devil.

"I am going to cry," he warned, swatting his hand over his face to prepare for his fake tears.

Yet you showed no mercy. Sitting there patiently, you inhaled and exhaled softly, causing him to internally flip the fuck out because why were you being so aggravating when the two of you should be walking and pointing out the squirrels fighting over nuts.

And sadly, he was slowly giving up.

"Imagine if I really was crying," he began, offended you did not care one bit. "Really means a lot how unconcerned you are."

But when you suddenly started examining your nails and carefully picking at them is when he totally lost it.

Reaching over to you and moving his arm down your arm, he swiftly intertwined your fingers with his before moving you posture to face him.

His hand was huge.

"No, no-" he started, pulling a face as you gave him a blank stare back. Act natural. Pulling your shared hands in front of his chest, he sulks. "-please, for the love of whichever god you believe in, or if you're an atheist- for the love of you, please talk to me."

Watching him beg for forgiveness has always been funny in the past, but his pleading for attention now makes you feel bad.

"If you talk to me I will buy you breakfast and a very delicious milkshake that will make you extremely happy for the rest of the day," he continues, using his free left arm to wrap around you as his right one still clutches onto your palm.

He's so warm.

Pursing your lips a bit, you send him a skeptical glance. "Oreo shake with a lot of whipped cream?"

He instantly nods, a smile breaking out. "Of course, anything you want."

You look at the car's steering wheel before averting your eyes back to his. "And a red cherry?"

"I'll buy you a full jar of cherries if it makes you happy," he declares.

"And fries?"

Agreeing, he lets out a quick nod again. "With extra seasoning."

Biting your lip, you proceed to think about other stuff you may want with your milkshake and fries. "A burger?"

"My goodness, woman" he sighs, letting go of you and jumping out of the car before running around to your side and opening your door. "I'll buy you the whole menu, now let's go!"

With that, he vigorously yet cautiously pulls you out of your seat and throws you over his shoulders.

"Oh no!" you squeal, trying to find something to hold on to as he begins his journey, walking towards the bridge to start the hike. Grabbing a hold of his neck, you try not to choke him as you place your arm around it.

If you were going down, you were sure you were going to break his neck in the process. At least it would be a learning lesson for him.

"If you drop me I am never talking to you again," you threaten as he continues down a path.

"Said that before and just did it half the car ride here," he begins, moving his shoulder to give you a little fright of your life. "Now I just found out that all I have to do is buy you food and you'll yap again."

Glaring, you choke him a little to which he chuckles. "Didn't know you were into that."

Speechless, you couldn't believe his words. What the hell was he on this morning?

"Put me down!" you exclaim, immediately moving your body so he would lose his balance. Once he did so, you scowl as he ruffles your hair, making it tangle around. "Hey!"

"Can you stop being negative for a few minutes and enjoy the environment?" he asks, pulling his arms up to twirl around. "Just take in that fresh air mother nature gifted us."

Scrunching your nose, you frown. "It smells like rotten eggs."

"Because of the ducks," he pointed out before patting his pockets. "Which we will be feeding with the bread I brought."

Examining his pocket, you shoot him a curious glance. "How big are your pockets?"

"Not important," he states, grabbing your arms and dragging you along with him down the long trail. "What's important is finishing this trail to feel accomplished."

Pouting, you allowed him to drag you along as you miserably dreaded the next few hours to come. The energy you had to give off just for some damn breakfast.

Shame on you for loving food so much.

Encountering many frogs, lizards, and pigeons who loved flying right by both of your heads and scaring you to death, you had long forgotten about how anxious you were being around him. Being distracted constantly had you occupied which was a relief.

Eventually, you two finally found the drugs.

Or the ducks.

Walking by a huge pond, there were numerous amounts of ducks leaping around with their families following behind. It was really cute, but the smell wasn't.

"I wonder if they can choke on this?" Pedro muttered as he pulled out a large bread. Slowly nearing one medium-seized one in caution, he rips a piece apart and throws it. "It is kind of thick."

Taking a moment to check the bread out, you sigh. "Are you feeding these ducks bolillo bread?"

He pauses, not sure why you would care to ask. "Yes and?"

"They have thick crusts!" you exclaim. "And why not just feed them normal wheat bread?"

"Who even eats wheat? It's bland." he protests. "Plus, this is leftovers from my dinner last night."

"They're ducks! They don't care," you argue as he shakes his head.

"Just imagine if you were a duck," he began, making you huff in annoyance as you just knew he was going to say something ridiculous. "Wouldn't you love to eat this nice bolillo bread, maybe visualize a torta with some carnitas, onions, avocado, can't forget the refried bean-"

"The duck is choking!" you squeal and stare in fear as the poor duck starts to wheeze sharply.

Pedro's facial expressions drops as he sees the poor duck quacking in agony. Nervously rushing to its side, he looks up at you. "Do we pat its back? CPR? Call 911?!"

Pulling out your phone, you type away to find answers for your current problem. It was indeed true that you aren't supposed to feed ducks bread.

Especially thick Mexican ones.

"Give it mouth to mouth if you want chlamydia," you read aloud, causing Pedro to instantly leap away from the duck as it hastily begins to lay on the ground. "Wait, you get that from birds, not ducks. Silly me."

"Ducks are birds," he discloses, trying his best to softly pat the ducks back, finally giving it one powerful swat to help but instead the duck ends ups being thrown a few feet away by his force.

"Do I look like a fucking duck doctor?" you spit out, making him look up confused.

"You mean a veterarian."

Ignoring his last comment, you continue scrolling through more of google's suggestions, finally finding some information that may help. "You need to press down on its chest with 1-2 fingers or just give them water to drown it down."

Immediately grabbing the duck and placing it on its back, you worriedly watch over the duck from Pedro's shoulder as he works his fingers on the poor animal.

However, no luck was given as the duck was beginning to look weak and drowsy as pressure kept being projected on its chest. "We need water!"

Running towards the pond, you motion for Pedro to follow along with the duck as you look for a safe ramp to lead the duck onto. "Let's just lay him down near the water and splash him with it."

"He?" Pedro asks, stopping his movements. "But it looks like a she-"

"We are not arguing over its gender when its literally dying in your arms!" you exclaim, causing him to quickly nod and follow the ramp you found towards the water.

Gently, Pedro lowered his arms near the water with the poor duck taking over his hands. Trying to move the flow of water towards its face, he calls you over. "He's not accepting it, you need to scoop some up in your hand and pour it over his beak."

Rapidly nodding, you do as he says and take a handful and try not to spill it before gradually pouring it over the duck's beak. This water was not clean, but at least it was something. Nothing was happening until your third scoop once the duck began to actually swallow some of the water slowly.

"I-I think it's working! We did it!" Pedro cheered, trying to give you a high-five, failing incredibly as he somehow managed to lose his grip and dump the poor duck hard in the pond. "Oh shit!"

Squatting down, you try to reach for the duck as its face was buried underneath the water before Pedro's body slams into yours, causing you to fall into the dirty, cold pond.

The feeling of thick, muddy water overtakes your body as you lose all sight of air. Quickly moving your arms up and down, you rise back to the surface to find Pedro with his hands over his mouth and his jaw dropped.

He knew he wasn't going to hear the end of it.

"Fuck," he nervously muttered to himself before reaching out for you. "I am so so so sorry, the leaf made me slip AH!-"

He couldn't finish his sentence as you yanked his arm down with you, pulling with almighty to get him to land in the pond. The weight of the water going down with his body diving harshly against it, you knew he was completely soaked.

And probably pissed, but its okay. It's what he deserves.

Waiting for him to come up, he finally did so in seconds looking very unhappy. It made you delighted.

"You did that on purpose!"

Scoffing, you splash him and watch as he gasps harder. "You do a lot of things on purpose."

Using both hands to release bigger waves, he splashes you back. "Don't splash me!"

Growling, you slap his chest as he clutches your wrist afterwards. "You're so lucky I forgot my phone at home."

Gasping, you feel one of his hands fly underwater. "I didn't!" You hold in your giggles as he shuffles frantically before moving his gaze back up. "Wait, I never removed it from my glove department. Be fortunate I forgot it because if you destroyed it I would've made you walk home."

Furrowing your brows, you push his shoulders and make him move back by the force of it. "You're the one who started it. We're gonna get duck chlamydia now!"

Rolling his eyes, he pushed you back, causing you to fall under the water. Once you caught your breath again you notice the way he glares at you. "That's not even a thing."

"Just another STD to add to your list," you jokingly mumble to yourself, sure he didn't catch it.

You were wrong, again.

Launching himself onto you, the two of you fall underwater as he shoves you body around in revenge. Swimming back up, you gasp for air while slapping his arms off you as he tried blocking all your attempts.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he clings his face on your shoulder as he proceeds to try and bring you down under but somehow you manage to wrap your leg around his thigh, causing him to lose his strength and fall backwards with you on top of him.

He sure has one strong grip.

Now, not saying you were going to kill him. But this was your chance to kill him with no witnesses.

Well- besides the ducks, but they wouldn't quack a soul.

Regaining his energy, he lifts himself back up and holds you up, about to drag you under again before you crazily oppose while shaking your head, "Don't! We're gonna get sick!"

"That's not a very sincere apology," he tilts his head, his wet hair scattered across his face as he awaits your alibi.

Huffing, you fight back a rude remark. "Do you understand how much poop were swimming in right now? These ducks are probably laughing at us by how much they are quacking."

Swiftly looking around, the two of you check the surrounding ducks around who blankly stare back. The older looking ones hollering nonsense, probably making plans to kill you and Pedro.

"I bet their releasing their chlamydia right now," you cry, hiding your face in his shoulder as he bursts out laughing.

"I don't think that's how it works."

Glancing down on him, you're surprised by his strength. He's been holding you up by your waist for so long you're shocked he hasn't dropped you accidentally yet. "Let's not find out, let's get out."

"You're forgetting something," he smiles, staring innocently at you, knowing damn well you can't leave without his release. "And I wouldn't wait this one out because I am pretty sure I feel toads swimming near my feet."

Instantaneously, you clung onto him tighter in fear as you could imagine the feeling of something swarming around your body. It was like hundred of spiders crawling all over you, you needed to get out of here.

Pulling yourself back up, you place your hands on his shoulders as he impassively stares back at you, waiting. "Fine," you huff. "I'm sorry for claiming you had STD's before."

Pedro just stays there, not moving an inch as if he wants more. Groaning, you knew he wasn't going to give in so easy. "And I am sorry for stimulating the idea that you would get duck chlamydia," you apologize. "But you can get E. coli."

That didn't help as he just helplessly eyed you, not impressed with your poor excuses of your so-called apologies. What more did he want? You can't necessarily beg on your knees, you're in the water!

Whining, you knew you had to pull out your sincere face. You just knew your Oscar-worthy acting was about to award you freedom.

Softly, you move strands of hair stuck near his eyes away from his face and brush his hair back before quivering your lips and looking down upon him in sorrow.

He has really pretty eyes.

"I'm really sorry," you start as you push your face inside his neck and lock him inside your arms. "I know you don't have any infections, you don't even have visible rashes or sores to prove it."

Pedro finds your plead for forgiveness charming as you squeeze him tighter. He begins to release you until he hears the mutter of your "-that are visible."

"You couldn't hold it in for a few more seconds?!" he whined at how fast you went back to insulting him.

Sighing heavily, you slap a hand to your face. "It's hard!"

Suppressing a laugh, he unwrapped his arms around you and let you get back to the sidewalk. But once you were back on your feet, you looked down to find your body filled with random pieces of dirt, sticks, and grass. "Ew!"

"You're not sitting in my car," Pedro states, waving his head side to side to release some water from his ears.

"You're worse than me!"

"My car, my rules."

Frowning, you weren't sure if he was kidding or not. "Well, you almost committed first-degree-murder so if you don't want people to know you must be my personal servant."

His instant glare turned into confusion as he abruptly moved his attention back towards the pond. "Where did the duck go?"

Widening your eyes, you forgot that you had a helpless duck in your hands minutes ago before your splash attack with Pedro. Scanning your eyes from the sidewalks to the ramps to the pond, you noticed a duck floating nearby. "I think that's them."

Pointing at a duck with the closest familiar colors than the rest, you felt Pedro let out of sigh of relief. "Thank goodness, I would have felt extremely guilty if she would have died."

"It could be a he," you snap back.

He was about to protest but honestly, you were done for the day. You just wanted to take a long and hot shower and knock back out. Not only that, but you ruined your cute running shoes you gifted yourself months ago for your work out journey.

You never really wore them, but it's the thought that counts.

"We can get breakfast another day," you plead to which he didn't argue over because he really wanted to remove the unknown substances off his body asap.

He wouldn't admit it, but he was genuinely scared he may have gotten duck chlamydia .

"Okay, but no sleeping in the car," Pedro states as you exhale loudly. All this and you still weren't allowed to doze off, how cruel is life at the moment.

Walking back to the car would've went down smoothly if the two of you weren't given disturbed looks from strangers and your clothes weren't clinging uncomfortably to your bodies, especially your shoes.

Luckily, Pedro had towels in his trunk and set them down on the seats. "God, I am definitely going to need a deep cleaning after this."

Slipping inside, your hands find the heater and turn it on full blast. Not only was it freezing outside, but your drenched state made you feel like an icicle.

Setting off back to the road, your mind begins to wander back to the question that has been flooding your mind lately. Craning you neck towards his presence, you make out his comfort state. Cool, he's calm.

Here goes nothing.

"So," you start, awkwardly playing with your hands as you try to make direct eye-contact with him as he turns his head to you. "Why did you visit the other morning?"

Lifting a brow, he pulls a face. "Other morning?"

Biting the inside of the cheek, you try to sound composed. "Yeah, remember? You dropped by around 6am-"

"-and you thought I was Lady Gaga, slammed the door on my face, and went back to bed?" he finished, grinning while finding your eyes again. "You mean that day?"

"Well if you knew what I was talking about why make me recall those mortifying details?" you grumble, leaning back against your seat. "And I thought you were a cat."

"I figured, I always questioned why Jules would ramble on about buying Lady Gaga a new electric litter box until I connected the dots," he confessed making you let out a small chuckle.

Yeah, you clearly remember how upset Jules became when Lady Gaga neglected the expensive box.

"But if you're curious, it wasn't because I wanted to go hiking," he smiled, referring to the current day.

"Then why?"

He paused for a minute, checking his mirrors before switching lanes. "I'm not really sure."

Tilting your head a bit, you express curiosity as you glance back. "I don't understand?"

Laughing lowly, he slightly shook his head. "I did wake up real fucking early that day," he started. "Maybe around 4am? Which sucked because I must've gotten like 3-4 hours of sleep."

"So you decided to wake me up so I could feel your pain?"

"No," he stifled another chuckle. "To plant trees."

Squinting your eyes, you become very confused. What is he talking about? He noticed your puzzlement immediately. "You know, go early in the morning to different areas in the city and help dig and replace old trees to plant new ones."

This whole time you were flipping out, wondering why he randomly came early in the morning just to find out it was because he's a nature boy who wants to help out the community?

It was very sweet of him to be as helpful as he was, but you were a little disappointment it wasn't something more.

"That's why?" you ask and he nods. "And why no warning?"

"Well, I was going to call but I figured all that studying you had done the evening before may have knocked you out early," he confessed.

Yet he still made you wake up early today knowing damn well you were exhausted last night. Strange.

"Why me?" you giggle. "I'm not your typical nature girl, Joon would've been perfect for the job."

Shrugging, he leaned his elbow on his middle console. "I thought about asking him, but to be honest I didn't want to pay for any damages he may have caused."

That was a very accurate insight of what Joon really was, clumsy. The amount of times he accidentally dropped his coffee cups, tripped over wires backstage, and face-planted against glass doors would be too much to count on both your palms.

You're surprised he hasn't broken his back again- but still glad he hasn't. That would really suck.

"But have you thought things over yet?" Pedro glanced your way before looking back forward. "About Canada?"

Stiffing up a bit, you move your eyes to the dashboard. You weren't dreading this conversation, but you didn't want to talk about it.

This was a situation where it was a win but also a loss.

Win as in gaining incredible experience, loss that your parent's wouldn't be pleased, it was in a different country, and you'd be missing out on your social life for almost a year.

"Not really," you admit and sense from the corner of your eyes his shoulders fall. "Still indecisive, as always," you try joking to lighten the mood.

Sending over a tiny grin, he mirrors your same expression, doubtful. His face turns concentrated again, leaning closer to you before he shuts down again, ultimately rejecting whatever idea he had going on.

The rest of the drive back to your place went by fast. The two of you made little talk about each other's life and how school was going for you, but he already knew so much already from past encounters.

Pulling up to the red curb you loathe, you crack a scowl as he only returns a smirk at his doing. "I will personally send my property manager to you so she can threaten you."

"I do love threats," he beamed, watching as you reach for the handle before stopping you by his voice. "-but I had fun this morning, despite our little uh...catastrophe," he chuckled, looking down at his clothes.

"I totally agree," you grin. "Dirt just looks so good on me."

He sniggers lightly before slightly sobering up. "But seriously, think about the offer," he begins, nipping at his lip a bit, not trying to put too much pressure on you. "It'll be good for you, you know- your future."

Sighing, you nod. You knew where he was coming from since he's been doing this for so long, but you were still young and had a lot on your mind.

"I'll think about it," you smile, reaching for the door handle and swiftly getting out, missing the way his smile slowly vanishes.

Taking your usual step back, you send him a farewell wave but he does his habitual goodbyes as he gets out of his car and grins to you. "See you around." Laughing, you walk inside the doors and make your way to the elevators, his followed soft "beautiful" being muffled by the traffic on the streets.

It seemed like both of you were screwed.

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