#AND SHE PULLS OUT TAYLOR SWIFT OF ALL PEOPLE TO PROVE SHE'S ??????

[fiadh-doodles]

PLEASE if damn near 30 year olds wanna play that "I'm just so quirky different & not like other girls/hipster mentality-I hate all things popular" BULLSHIT & shit on lesbians & WOC artists headlining at Coachella

PLEASE DO NOT USE TAYLOR SWIFT AS THE ARTIST TO PROVE YOU "ONLY LISTEN TO UNDERGROUND MUSIC"

Idc if folks listen to mainstream music or not, but please stop acting like listening to music your friends don't know/like makes you underground/better than others. I LISTEN TO TONS OF "BASIC" MUSIC!! IT'S GREAT!! And I also listen to a LOT of ACTUALLY underground music/artists & am deep into my local music scenes. I LOVE MUSIC!! but I'm so sorry this whole "2014 I'm so indie, I listen to artic monkeys, you've probably never heard of them" mentality has GOT TO GO IM SIIIICCKCCCCKKKK

[gunnerfc]

Dress | Alessia Russo x Reader (18+) [Thursday]

-> England and Arsenal reader

Summary: Your best friend and housemate looks a little too good in the new dress she bought | slightly inspired by ‘Dress’ - Taylor Swift

Warnings: bottom alessia, top reader, strap use (alessia receiving), oral (alessia receiving), fingering (r receiving), masturbation (R; fingering) in a shared space

WC: 4k

AN: this might be one of if not number 1 of the fics I've written 🧎| this is the dress I was referencing Alessia wearing

Night After Night masterlist

You cheered softly to yourself when you scored your eighth goal against Katie in a game of FIFA. You loved playing against her because you knew you could walk away with an easy win. you laughed to yourself picturing your teammate swearing and complaining to Caitlin, who would have a lot to say to you during training for making her deal with an angry Katie McCabe. 

Just as Katie restarted the game, Alessia came tumbling through the front door, hands full with bags from her day out shopping. You threw a glance her way and chuckled when she lightly tripped over her own feet. 

"You good, Lessi," you teased but kept your eyes locked on the TV screen in front of you.

Alessia's face lit up, blush coating her cheeks as she sat all her bags down to remove her shoes. "Perfectly fine, thank you very much," she huffed as she tossed her shoes to the small pile by the front door. 

You and Alessia had been friends for a long time and when you both were signed to Arsenal, you decided to move in together to make things easy. You loved living with her but being around her 24/7 did nothing to stop your ever-growing feelings for her. But you kept your feelings to yourself, not wanting to complicate your living situation. 

Your game with Katie came to an end and the defender promptly left the lobby, too pissed at the score line to continue playing. You chuckled once more as you sat your controller on the couch, your full attention turned to Alessia who was now trying to pick up all her bags to carry to her room. 

"Did you leave anything for other people to buy," you joked as you stood up to help her, a smile on your face when you noticed her blush.

"Hush," she mumbled as you picked up most of the bags for her. You were too busy keeping your own feelings hidden to notice Alessia doing the same.

The forward had a crush on you the moment you two met at the youth levels for England. You two have been inseparable since then, closer than ever and madly in love with the other, even if you were both hiding it. 

But Alessia was tired of keeping her feelings to herself, she's wanted to tell you how she felt every day since she came to terms with it. She just wasn't sure what the best way to go about it was because she was worried about you potentially not feeling the same. However, after whining about her feelings and gushing about you to Ella, the two of them came up with a plan. 

She was going to make you make the first move if you did feel the same and an upcoming event proved to be her best chance. She had spent all day shopping with Lotte and Emily to find the perfect dress that she thought would drive you crazy. After hours of searching, she finally found the perfect dress that she'd hoped you'd take off her. 

You sat the bags on the end of her bed before turning to head back to the living room. "Wait, can I get your help on which dress to wear for this event, I know you aren't going but I could use the extra opinion," the blonde grinned and you knew you'd never be able to say no to her.

"You're sure you want my opinion," you joked with a raised eyebrow, dressing up and going to all those fancy events were out of your comfort zone. 

"Of course, I trust your opinion more than others," she replied, her grin just a bright. 

You nodded with a smile before telling her you'd wait in the living room for her to show you her options. Alessia cheered cutely before she started pulling various outfits from the shopping bags. 

You sat on the couch, browsing through social media while you waited. You'd just clicked through Katie's Snapchat story where she posted about losing to you with various angry emojis when Alessia's bedroom door opened. You looked up from your phone and your eyes scanned the dress your best friend was wearing. 

It was a black dress but wasn't one you thought complimented her fully. "It's nice but I don't think it's my favorite," you hummed, your eyes straying toward her long legs before meeting her eyes. 

"It's not my favorite either but I thought I'd still show you," she blushed before heading back into her room to change into the next dress. 

You weren't sure how you were given a free pass to basically check out your best friend but you weren't going to say no to the idea. So you waited, letting Alessia take all the time she wanted before she came back out in a blue dress. 

This one was better than the last but still missing something. You tilted your head to the side as your eyes took in the piece of clothing before giving her your thoughts. "I like this one more than the black one, but it still feels like it's missing something," you offered, your eyes meeting hers with a smile on your face. 

Alessia nodded and smiled but didn't say anything as she turned around. Your eyes shamelessly dropped to check her out again before you were staring at her closed bedroom door. Alessia was glad you didn't like any of the ones she was showing you so far, she was only showing them to make it seem like she had options. 

But as she slipped on the red dress she bought earlier, she knew this would be the winner. Alessia took a small breath before opening her door and stepping out, her eyes landing on you to watch your reaction closely.

You looked up from your phone, your jaw dropping slightly but you were quick to school your expression. Your eyes slowly scanned her body, lingering as they eyed parts of her exposed chest and her legs. You swallowed harshly as you sat up straighter, many thoughts forming in your head but none were something you could say to your best friend. 

"Um... I- I like this one the most," you settled on something safe, though your eyes had yet to meet hers again. 

Alessia smirked softly but her face was almost as red as her dress, she'd slowly put her secret plan in motion and now she had to sit back and let you make the first move. "Good, this was my favorite too," she beamed, turning to head back into her room and she felt your eyes burning holes into her backside as you watched her leave.

The event was in four days and the blonde planned to let you sit with all you were feeling until you saw her in the dress again, hoping it would be what would jumpstart your relationship. Though with training in between, the days leading up to the event seemed to drag on for ages.

You groaned as you opened your front door to be met with multiple people who were a part of Alessia’s team helping her get ready. It had slipped your mind that today was the day of the event Alessia would be attending and a small burst of excitement filled your chest as you remembered the dress she decided on. Though in reality, the dress hadn’t left your mind since she first walked out of her bedroom to show you.

“Y/N! Is that you,” Alessia’s voice echoed from her bedroom as she heard the front door open amidst the chaotic scenes around her.

“Who else would it be,” you joked as you peeked your head around her doorframe, eyes landing on the blonde sitting on the edge of her bed in a white robe while her makeup artist covered her eyelashes in mascara.

Alessia rolled her eyes when the woman left her alone to grab a light shade of lipstick. Alessia’s eyes met yours as she let her makeup artist apply the lipstick. You sent her a small smile before returning to your room to shower, having gone for a light gym workout with Kyra. 

By the time you were done and changed, Alessia had changed into her dress and was getting assistance with her heels in the living room. Your breath hitched when you exited your room, your eyes slowly committing the sight of her to memory. “You look beautiful, Less,” you gushed quietly as you bit your lip softly. 

Alessia’s cheeks burned as her head dropped slightly out of shyness. “Thank you, y/n/n,” she muttered before her team informed her it was time to go.

Alessia was rushed out the door before either of you could say anything else and you were left in the quiet of your home, a warm feeling growing between your legs. You knew you had a few hours to yourself before Alessia would be back so you opted to relax in the living room.

You did your best to distract yourself for as long as you could but the need growing between your legs was overpowering. If you were going to get yourself off you were going to be quick about it since Alessia could be back at any moment. You swallowed lightly before propping one of your legs on the coffee table in front of you and spreading the other. You sighed as your hands pulled at your clothing, groping your chest as your hips rolled slightly. 

Your mind was full of Alessia, what it would be like to have your way with her, and how she’d sound begging for you to fuck her. Your breathing picked up as you slid your hands down your body toward the waistband of the sweatpants you were wearing. You pushed your shirt up your torso some, gripping it as your other hand dipped under the elastic of your pants and underwear.

Your body jerked at the feeling of your cold hands on your skin as you ran a finger through your wet folds. You moaned the sensation, Alessia’s name falling from your lips without realizing it. You pushed a finger into your wet cunt, thrusting slowly as your eyes fell shut and your chest heaved.

You added a second finger and sped up your movements, pumping your fingers inside you as your hips grind in time with your fingers. You moved the hand that was holding your shirt up to grope one of your breasts under your shirt, moaning as you pulled at the hardened nipple. You chanted Alessia’s name as your back arched off the couch, your thighs clamping your hand between them.

You came with a loud moan of Alessia’s name and kept your fingers pumping inside you to help calm yourself down. After a moment, the sensation became too much and you pulled your soaked fingers out of your pants. You swallowed harshly as you stared up at the ceiling, your chest moving rapidly.

You stood up after catching your breath to wash your hands in the kitchen and as you headed to your room, the front door opened. Alessia sighed as she closed the door behind her, leaning against it as she shoved her heels off and dropped her small purse. Your eyes widened slightly, hoping she hadn’t been right outside the whole time.

“Remind me to never do that again,” she groaned as she moved to the couch, dropping into the spot you had previously occupied. You blinked a few times before joining her, you couldn’t just say nothing and head to your room just yet.

You offered her a small laugh in response as you sat next to her, leaving enough space between the two of you. The dress she was wearing was driving you crazy and you didn’t know how much longer you could last.

“What did you get up to while I was gone,” the blonde questioned, turning her head to face you.

“Oh, um...not much. Just watched some TV, y’know,” you shrugged, though Alessia knew you well enough to know that you were lying but she didn’t press you.

She mumbled a small ‘nice’ before you were both sitting in silence, both of your thoughts filled with similar things. You bit your lip as your eyes trailed up her legs to the hem of her dress that rested on her thigh. Oh, how you’d love to be between her thighs right now.

Your breathing picked up as you thought about how she would taste and held back a moan as you pictured going down on her. “Y/n, are you all right,” Alessia asked softly as she slid next to you, a hand landing on your thigh.

You nodded but refused to meet her eye and Alessia wasn't having that. She raised her hand to turn you to face her, your eyes filled with arousal as you stared at her lips. “Alessia,” you whispered and the blonde’s thighs flexed hearing you say her full name.

“Yeah,” her voice was just as quiet as yours as she ran her thumb along your cheek. You leaned in slowly, giving her enough time to pull away if she wanted.

When she didn’t move away, you connected your lips in a hesitant kiss, waiting for her to move first. You both sighed heavily into the kiss as your lips moved against each other, your hand falling to grip her thigh. Alessia moaned softly into the kiss at the feeling of your hand on her and you took the opportunity to move your tongue into her mouth.

You slide your hand further up her thigh, pushing the bottom of her dress to her hips before your hand hits the fabric of her panties. Alessia pulled out of the kiss to moan louder, her forehead resting against yours as her eyes fell shut.

“I wanna taste you, Lessi,” you mumbled, your voice laced with arousal as you rubbed your fingers over her covered cunt. You could feel how wet she was through the piece of clothing and it was driving you crazy. 

“Please,” she croaked out and it was all you needed to drop to your knees in front of her. You bunched her dress around her hips as you placed light kisses along the inside of her thighs, small whines falling from her lips as she waited for you.

You pulled her panties down her legs, tossing them somewhere behind you as her legs spread for you. You gulped softly as you stared at her dripping cunt before making yourself comfortable between her thighs. 

You hooked your arms around her thighs, moving her legs to rest on your shoulders as you leaned in, placing a tentative kiss on her clit. Alessia threw her head back against the couch, one of her hands tangling in your hair as your kisses became more confident. Your kisses turned to suck as you took the sensitive bud into your mouth, sucking harshly as you moaned against her.

Alessia’s hips bucked up as you moved your tongue to run through her wet folds, a loud moan of your name falling from her lips. Her thighs clamped around your head, keeping you as close as possible to her as you tasted her. Your eyes flutter shut as you work your move against her, pulling whines from the blonde above you. 

“I’m gonna cum,” she cried, her breathing heavy as her hips jerked against your face. You sped up your tongue, fucking her with the muscle as you held her body tightly. 

Alessia came on your face with a loud groan, tears pricking her eyes in pleasure as you kept moving. Her legs went limp against your shoulders and she tugged slightly on your hair to get your attention. You pulled away from her, earning a whine when the cold air hit her cunt. 

You sat on your knees as you took her in, your eyes falling to her partially exposed chest. You weren’t close to being satisfied and you stood on wobbly legs, offering her a hand. Alessia took your hand, letting you help her up and guide her to your bedroom. Her mind racing from this new experience.

You closed your bedroom door softly behind you and moved the two of you to the edge of your bed. You took your time stripping Alessia’s dress off her, letting it pool by her ankles before she stepped out of it. Your hands rested softly on her waist as your eyes scanned her completely bare body. 

Alessia’s breath hitched when you kissed her collarbone before trailing kisses to her breasts. She pushed her chest forward as your lips wrapped around one of her nipples, sucking on the bud as one of your hands slipped down to grab her ass. You pulled away from her completely after a moment, a string of spit connecting your lips to her nipple as you did so.

You took a step back to strip, tossing your clothes to the floor to be picked up later. Alessia shamelessly let her eyes ogle your body. You turned to move toward your nightstand, pulling a girthy strap on from the drawer before turning to face the blonde. Alessia’s eyes dropped to the toy in your hand and felt her cunt grow even wetter. 

“We can stop if you want,” you offered, not wanting to overstep any boundary. 

Alessia shook her quickly, “I don't want to stop,” she croaked out. You nodded with a small smirk as you harnessed the toy around your waist. Alessia felt lightheaded at the sight of you with the strap on between your legs.

You motioned to the bed with your head, letting her get into whatever position she wanted to be fucked in. You bit back a small groan when she crawled onto your bed and stayed on her hands and knees. You moved around the bed to return to the edge before kneeling on the mattress behind her. You ran your hands over her ass, smacking her skin softly as you kneaded the skin.

Alessia whined at the feeling, her head dropping as she stared at the cover of your bed. You slid your hands up to caress her hips, rubbing your thumbs over her back. Alessia waited with bated breath as you moved one hand to the toy between your legs, lifting the tip to her cunt. You pushed the strap into her, your hand returning to her hip as you bottomed out. Alessia gasped at the full feeling, her hips pushing back against you once she was comfortable. 

Alessia’s skin felt hot against yours and you took a small intake of air before pulling out some. You snapped your hips against her, your skin slapping against hers as you thrust. Alessia’s arms buckled slightly at your thrusts but her hips pushed back against you with each one. You sped up your movements when loud whines fell from your best friend’s lips, your name never sounding better. 

“Fuck,” you huffed as your thrusts became rougher, your head falling back as you closed your eyes. Your eyes were back on Alessia when she moved to rest on her forearms, her hands gripping your cover as continuous whines filled your room. The loud sound of your skin hitting hers and the sound of you fucking her mixed with her moans made your head spin.

“Fuck, Less. You’re taking me so well,” you grunted as squeezed her hips, most likely leaving light bruises in your wake.

Alessia moaned at the praises, her hips faltering as she was close to another orgasm. You kept your pace steady, your hips snapping against her body roughly. “I’m so close! Please-” Her words were taken from her when you hit that particular spot within her, a loud whine taking their place.

You focused on your movements, determined to have her experience one of her best orgasms ever. “Cum for me, Alessia,” you grunted as you railed into her.

With a loud whine, Alessia fell into the mattress she came on your strap. You kept your hips going as you helped her through her orgasm, broken cries from the blonde edged you on to keep going. You fucked into her with the same momentum as before, a third orgasm hitting her as she whimpered.

You pulled out of her slowly, the blonde breathing heavily as you tossed the toy to the floor. You ran your hands up the back of her thighs, up her ass, and over her back in a comforting manner, the blonde’s skin sweaty under your touch.

“You good, Less,” you mumbled into her ear as you leaned over her, placing small kisses along her back. You moved slightly when she rolled over, her fucked out expression became your favorite sight in that moment. 

Alessia licked her lips as she nodded, her brain too foggy to form a sentence. You smirked as you lay on your side next to her, one of your hands tracing random shapes along her body. Alessia turned her head to face you, her eyes locking with yours as she leaned up to kiss you. She could faintly taste herself on your lips from earlier as she pushed you onto your back.

You stared at the blonde in shock, you hadn’t expected her to have enough energy to reciprocate, not that you minded. Alessia straddled your thigh and you moaned quietly as you felt her wetness on your skin. She traced a finger down your body and leaned down to kiss you. You moaned into the kiss when she ran her finger through your wet folds, your hips bucking up to meet her finger.

She dipped her finger inside you slowly before pulling it out quickly. You gasped lightly, her finger felt ten times better than yours had felt earlier. Your eyes screwed shut when she pushed two fingers deep inside you, pumping them slowly to edge you closer to your second orgasm that night. You held the cover beneath you tightly as your back arched off the mattress, hips rolling in time with her thrusts. 

“L-less,” you stuttered, your head thrown back against your pillows as she fucked you closer to the edge. “P-please,” you begged.

Alessia sped up her fingers as her other hand to rub your sensitive clit. Your body jerked at the feeling, a loud moan falling from your lips as you let go, cumming all over her fingers. Alessia slowed her fingers some before pulling them out of you completely. 

Your eyes fell open at the loss of contact and they fell on Alessia as she brought her fingers to her mouth, sucking them into her mouth to taste you. She moaned at the taste, her eyes closing as she licked her fingers clean. You gulped at the sight, desire building once more.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” you grunted as you sat up, your arms wrapping around her waist to pull her flush against you. You both moaned slightly when your sensitive nipples bumped each other.

Alessia wrapped her arms around your neck, her fingers playing with the baby hairs on the back of your neck. You stared up at her, a look of love clouding your eyes as you smiled at her. Alessia giggled quietly as she gave you a quick kiss but you pulled her into a deeper kiss before she got too far.

“I'm in love with you, Alessia,” you whispered against her lips, a sense of nervousness filled your body despite everything that just happened.

“I’m in love with you too, y/n,” she blushed, a smile on her face as she spoke. You beamed up at her before kissing her once more, though this kiss was softer than the last. 

Alessia pulled back with a small yawn, her tiring week mixed with the sex had exhausted her. You cooed with a small smile when you saw her bow her head bashfully. You moved the two of you under the covers, placing a small kiss to her hairline as she curled into you.

“Goodnight, Less,” you whispered against her head as you pulled her close to you. The blonde mumbled a quiet ‘goodnight’ before sleep took over.

You were glad your feelings were out in the open now and the two of you could talk about it more in the morning. But for now, you were content to cuddle Alessia as you both slept, a smile on your face as fell asleep.

[crazyk-imagine]

Mean

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Fem!reader

Characters: Fem!reader, Paul Lahote, Sam Uley, Emily Young, Jared Cameron, Embray Call, Tiny Tim (made up)

Warnings: Reader knows about the supernatural, implications of dead parent, ex's inspire people, Sam and Emily are adorable, am I making them my favorites bc of the way I write them lol, Paul and Reader are adorable, Paul is a little shit, so is Embry and Jared, no one can act normal around a sassy person

Word Count: 1,231

A/N: Was I listening to Mean by Taylor Swift? You can't prove anything

I've had this ready for a week, but shit kept happening at work man ughhhhhh

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

It was meant to be, or so you thought.

You blink, staring at the ceiling not sure why your ex came to mind.

He was partial to the reason for your move the gloomy town (which you enjoyed more than the sunny state you were in) but not the entire reason.

If only your mom could see you now, working hard and still keeping true to who you are.

You push yourself out of bed, needing to get started on your day.

-

You finish up and jot down another line, knowing it's slowly turned into a "revenge" song.

You exit your place and hop in your truck, heading down to your favorite person's place.

"Emily, your other honey is home."

Sam lets out a dry laugh. "Funny as always."

"I know, it's one of the perks of being my friend."

"Are going to do..." You snatch a muffin from the tray. "Sam things?"

The couple glance at one another, curious if you know.

"Yeah, we won't be back till later-" He doesn't finish as the boys burst through the door. Almost all ignore you, not aware of your presence.

You mumble, "now I know why you're ready to feed an army."

The boys freeze, all conversations stopping. "Uh-"

"Who's the girl?" Jared asks, snaking a muffin.

You raise a brow, picking at the muffin, breaking it into bite size pieces. "What a question."

"Who's the sassy girl?" The same guy asks.

"How do you deal with idiots?"

Emily snickers, scanning over the pack for their expressions.

"Good thing Paul's not here or else he'd flip a lid," Embry mutters.

You push yourself off the stool and grab your bag. "Later, Em. Bye bye, Sammy."

You wave them off before glancing at the group. "Such an interesting... gang you have here."

You spin around, smirking to yourself, not wanting to let the cat (wolf) out of its bag. "I heard there's going to be a full moon tonight."

Or maybe you don't care if they know you know.

"Does she-"

The door slams shut.

You shake your head, smirking to yourself, proud of your teasing. You bump into a body, not entirely paying attention. "Sorry." You pass by the person and hop in your car, not realizing the electricity he felt in that simple touch.

You look up after putting your keys in the ignition, only to find a dark pair of eyes on yours.

The subtle feeling through your body alerts you.

"Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap." You have to force your gaze away from his. "Please don't be able to read lips. Oh, crap. They can hear." You start pulling out and make it back to your house.

-

Weeks go by and you screen another one of Emily's calls.

"I'll call her when this passes," you mutter, writing another line. You slam your pencil down, "who am I kidding? It's never going to stop."

You don't want to answer her and send another lie.

Boo Thang #2 <;3

'Sorry, not feeling good. Will text later.' 2:59pm Sent Read

A knock on your door surprises you.

You carefully make your way to the door, scanning through the peephole. Your back's flat against the door. "Why the hell is he here?"

"We need to talk."

"I don't think so."

"You know more than you let on."

"So?"

"We need to talk."

"Can I just call you?"

"No, Emily's been trying for days, and it hasn't worked. Let me in."

You scoff, "not with that attitude."

He growls under his breath, "fine. Please let me in?"

"No."

"You're testing my patience."

"Go test it out with someone else."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"You gotta be more specific bud."

"I don't like that name."

"Bud?"

"Stop it."

You smirk, "bud."

He knocks on your door with more force, trying to get one of your neighbors to come out so they can tell him to stop and make you let him in.

You snarl as the door swings open, "stop it you, idiot." You yank him in, earning a confident smirk from him.

"I don't like this look on you. You think you've won."

"Who says I haven't?"

"Me. I am the one who decides since this is my place."

"Living here alone? Really?"

You shrug, "parents died."

"Oh," he clears his throat, "sorry."

"It's fine. Not your fault."

"So, uh- what do you know?"

"I used to visit when I was a kid and heard the stories because of my cousin."

"You know?"

"That we happen to be united forever essentially, kind of hard not to, not gonna lie."

"Are you upset?"

You furrow your brows, "what do you mean?"

"Your imprints with the hothead. The one with "anger" issues. The list goes on." His brows furrow in annoyance, the pout on his lip making him look... cute.

"Who?"

He shocked you don't know who he is. "Lahote?"

"Paul?" You ask, not entirely sure if you got the right name or not.

"Oh, so you do know."

He sighs, "great."

"Barely, I just remember your guy's names from the elders at the meetings."

"How long has it been since you were in town?"

You shrug, "few years. I haven't been out of the house as much since my life went to crap," you offer a sarcastic smile.

"I feel like I've brought the mood down, do you- do you want to go out? I know this one place with uh- with decent music." He tells you the name and it takes all of you to not smile.

"Let's go, but we take my car."

He lets out a dramatic sigh, "fine."

-

You two arrive half an hour before you have to go on stage.

You make up an excuse and say you're going to be right back, needing to use the little girl's room.

"Next up, is one of our favorites," the mc, Tiny Tim (your favorite guy there) announces.

You walk across stage, confusing Paul but not Emily and Sam (who told him to take you there if he got far enough). They cheer you on while listening to your song.

All you are is mean And a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life And mean, and mean, and mean, and mean

You make it back to your seat beside your wolf.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

You shrug, not liking the attention on you.

"That was- that was amazing."

"It was nothing."

"No- no, that was really good." Emily sneaks up behind you. "And that's saying something, Paul doesn't like to use his words to express his emotions."

The man frowns. "We get it. We get it."

You roll your eyes, "stop it, you two."

-

You two make it back your place. "I should at least drop you off."

He shakes his head, "I'm not that far from you."

"I don't know if I believe that."

"Then believe ne when I say I can run and not get tired."

You narrow your eyes before turning your head to hide your chuckle. "Get out of here, you idiot."

You hear him close the door and stare into the woods, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

The only wolf standing between the path of trees sticks out and you know it's him.

You shake your head, going into your home. "Idiot."

You swear you hear him huff.

[mayghosts]

Little Gold Top: (7) Kate Martin x Reader

Summary: fluff and happiness

(Previous) (TOC)

Warnings: implied sexual content, alc, bad grammar.

AN: I feel bad for making you guys go through that much angst, please use this as my formal appology 🙏 trying to decide if we need one more final part or not? do we want another part, maybe like its set in the future?

Grinning like a maniac, you flopped backwards onto your couch. “What are you grinning about?” making her way over to you Gabbie tried to grab at the note in your hands. Clutching it to your chest you sprung off the couch, skating across the room “Nothing! None of your buisness!” Smirking at your actions, Gabbie returned back to her spot in the kitchen, “I'm onto you babe, I am going to figure out who your little lover is soon.”

Rolling your eyes you slid back into your room to read your card in peace. Kate had taken your challenge in stride, determined to ‘prove it’ to you. For the last week you had been receiving flowers, notes, little gifts, matcha lattes and even walks to class and drives to and from practice. You spent hours texting about meaningless topics, your family, old friends and basically every topic under the sun. About 90% of the converstaions she had initiated. Her dedication was truly impressive.

Tossing the card onto your bed you began to pull outfit ideas from your closet. Settling on a your favorite black mini skirt and a little gold top, you finished getting ready. The team was planning another outing to the local campus bar, you were excited to spend time with everyone. However, you were most excited to see Kate. You wouldn’t say you were ‘going out’ or ‘seeing’ eachother just yet, but you knew you were more than friends.

In the past thinking about Kates was accompanied by an overwhelming feeling of dread and misery. However, Kates has became an overwhelmingly gooey-happy thought. You just hoped this feeling would stick around.

Stepping into the dimly rit bar room, you were met with a sea of people and the strong smell of alchohol. The sticky floor offered an extra bit of resistance as you and Gabbie fought your way through the crowd, towards the group of girls sitting in one of the back tables.

“Eee!! You're here!! Come sit!!” By the sound of her voice, you could tell Caitlin had already had a few drinks as she pulled you and Gabbie the rest of the way to the booth. Standing in front of the table you were greeted with hugs and excited hellos from a slightly intoxicated Jada and Monica.

Climbing over the booth, you plopped into the empty spot next to Kate who was trying to act normal. As conversations picked up again and shots were passed around, you found yourself falling into conversation with the blonde.

“You’re wearing the shirt I like.” she grinned at you, toying with the bottom of your shirt. “Yea? I like this shirt too... It reminds me of that night in the parking lot.” she glanced up at you, letting her hands drift up to your straps. She toyed with them in her hands. To anyone else it might look like she was just untiwsting them. However, you knew she just wanted an excuse to touch your shirt you. “Why would you want to think about that night? Kinda traumatic, no?” you giggled at her words, watching as the purple and blue lights reflected in her eyes. “Well we wouldn't be here if we hadn't been there.”

You were silent for a minute, before you were interrupted by Caitlin passing shots around the table again. As you bit into your lime, you felt Kate squeeze your hand under the table. Feeling the heat rise to your cheeks you turned to talk to Monica about the upcoming season. Kate didn’t let go all night, and you didn’t think you could let her hand go if you tried.

In the back of the Uber, you sat squished against Kate, sharing the middle seat with Caitlin. As Cait and Gabbie drunkenly sang Taylor swift the whole ride home, Kate slumped her head ontop of your thighs as she gently whispered “I'm glad I was an idiot that night.” You paused for a moment, turning her words over in your head before leaning over her “me too.”

The sun shone through the cracks in your blinds as you slowly blinked your eyes open. Your alarm clock read 5:02, far too early to wake up on a weekend. However when you went to roll over, you were pleasantly surprised by a sleeping, fully clothed, Kate Martin in your sheets. (that's a first)

When you opened your eyes again a few hours later, you half expected her to still be there. So, when you found that she hadn’t escaped your apartment before you woke up, it hit you hard.

She had proved it. Proping yourself up on your elbows, you gently tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, resting your forehead against hers. You smiled as her eyes flickered open. As she wrapped her arms around your waist she gently pulled you ontop of her.

“I believe you.”

“I know you do.”

As she reached her hands up to grab at your hips, you met her halfway, entertwining your fingers.

“Do you believe yourself?”

“More than anything.”

She even tastes like strawberry chapstick in the morning.

Taglist: @ayannatv @stydiaownsmyheart @smiths-fan--13

[lecl3rcw]

MOMENTS WITH YOU | CARLOS SAINZ

Summary: 3 of Carlos and Y/N’s cutest moments

Author’s note: Thank you so much to everyone who’s requested a fic, your requests are all works in progress💗

Warnings: badly translated Spanish, and tooth rotting fluff.

Sing recommendations: All of the girls you’ve loved before & Lover - Taylor Swift

____________________________________________

Moment # 1

Y/N was sat in her boyfriend’s drivers room listening to his rants and frustrations of how Ferrari, yet again screwed him up.

“It’s just so annoying! I ask them to do something and they just don’t listen? And now they’re purposely screwing me over” He says pacing back and forth, These past few races have been nerve wrecking for him with Ferrari considering to replace him at the end of his contract fueled him even more to try to prove himself to them but he can’t, if they don’t give him a chance.

The girl stood up, locking her arms around his waist as her head rested on his shoulder, he reciprocated the hug as he exhaled “I hate to see you so upset” she murmurs, her hand gently caressing his back, he closes his eyes in content, greatful for her touch.

“I’m just so done, I’m constantly trying to prove myself to people that obviously are sabotaging me, I just don’t understand why they treat me so bad, have I not given enough?” He says, frustration leaving, sadness engulfing his voice. Y/N squeezes him even tighter.

“You’re more than enough cariño, you’re just as amazing as anyone and if they can’t see that then they’re idiots, your overridden decisions are the only reason why you guys placed so good” she says leaning up to place a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“Thankyou mi cielo” He says leaning down to place a kiss on her lips, as his arms travel down to her waist grasping it.

Moment # 2

The soft patters of the rain along with the occasional boom of thunder were the only things that could be heard through out the city of Madrid. The couple was snuggled in bed, both too lazy to be productive.

Carlos admired the girl who’s head was burried into his neck, his arm under her neck serving as a pillow, his hand goes up to gently caress the back of her head.

“We should probably go make something to eat amour” He whispered as he heard her groan and push her head impossibly deeper into his neck. He chuckles, “cmon Y/N, we gotta get up” he says gently, She huffs before turning around and pulling the duvet over her head.

“Y/Nnnnnn come on” he says pulling the cover off her head, “Ugh fine” she says before sitting up. He opened up his arms and she immediately fell into them. Her hand tracing hearts on his collarbone as her head found its place under his chin. The rainy weather brought out a different type of lazy out of them.

“I thought you said we need to get up” she says still tracing on his collarbone, “We probably should but I have nowhere I’d rather be” he replies pressing his lips against her head and squeezing her tighter, she sighs in content as she leans up to kiss his jaw.

Moment #3

The girl came back from work exhausted, her boss doesn’t make her life any easier, and on top of that everything just seemed to be going bad today. She missed a deadline and absolutely got flamed by him and she wanted nothing more than too just be in Carlos’s arms.

As she entered her house, she wanted to hold herself together until she made it to the bedroom, but upon hearing Carlos’s voice call her out sweetly, tears immediately started going down her cheeks.

“Y/N? What’s wrong amour?” He says gently going up to her, she shook her head as she covered her face with her hands, a habit she developed when she didn’t want people to see her cry. “Oh come here” he cooed as he wraps his arms around her tightly. He held on to her for as long as she needed. She cried for so long, she didn’t even realize when he moved the two of them on the couch.

Once her breathing stilled and sobs were no longer wracking her body, Carlos once again asked her “What’s wrong Y/N?” His hand on the back of her head as she played with strings of his hoodie.

“I missed a deadline and he said if I make one more mistake, I’m done! I mean that’s so upsetting, I’ve done so much for this stupid company and this is how they treat me? I was up until 4 am fixing his dumb mistakes and this is how he repays me? Ugh he’s so annoying” she says no longer sad, but more frustrated.

“Baby, you have to separate work from your home life, your boss is not understanding, and if he fires you then he’s just making the dumbest decision ever” he says, “I love you Carlos” she says, he smiles and leans down to kiss her, the rest of the night, the couple was so wrapped up in each other that they fell asleep on the couch, at peace with their minds.

[andillneverbethesame]

𝒔𝒍𝒖𝒕!

❥ remus lupin x fem!reader

❥ summary; you and remus can't be left alone.

❥ warnings; celebrity!au & soc. media!au

❥ a/n; inspired by taylor swift's "slut!". this is short af and it sucks, i'm sorry. but i wanted to finish it so badly......... hope u enjoy it anyway, ily yallll

the sun shone bright, its rays gently falling on your wet skin as you watched him swimming in your pool.

it was the first time remus came to visit you to los angeles as you've been in london thousand of times and wanted to show him the beauty your state has to offer. he seemed to like it so far, taking some rest from rainy england in sunny california.

the golden liquid you poured into two wine glasses almost matched the color of his hair as he swam from one end of the pool to another — to you. you handed him one of the glasses and he took it from you with a smile on his face. your fingers brushed with his, sending electricity through your entire body.

"to being young," said remus.

you nodded. "to being young."

clink, clink.

all you needed was him.

——————————————————————

later that day, remus took you out for dinner. you believed you've been in every single restaurant in l.a. but your boyfriend proved you wrong.

the moment you walked in, you felt almost everyone's eyes on you. anxiety rushed through your body. almost as if remus could feel it, he gave you a reassuring squeeze and the weight on your shoulders suddenly dropped.

he lead you to an empty table by the window and pulled out your chair. you sent him a smile before sitting down and he took a seat opposite to you.

that was when you made the mistake to look around, locking eyes with numerous people who weren't very excited to see you and remus together.

"ignore them, dove," remus spoke, reading the menu. "they're just jealous of how beautiful you look tonight."

you knew that wasn't the truth but you appreciated him trying enough not to say anything about it anymore. you nodded and picked up the menu and did your best to ignore the glares.

——————————————————————

@celebrityupdates

76,890 likes

@celebrityupdates well, who would've thought! actress y/n y/l/n and "the marauders" bassist remus lupin were spotted together yesterday on a date and then left together hand in hand.

12,656 comments

@user6346873 wasn't she literally dating sirius black like a week ago? bffr girl 💀

-> @siriusblack no, you bffr, she wasn't.

@remuslupinsgf NOO REMUS WHY. she'll cheat on you like she did on everyone else.

               -> @user2578584 name one person she cheated and give me a proof

                   -> @remuslupinsgf whatever. her movies suck anyway

@user742795853 slut.

okay, maybe reading the comments of this post wasn't the best idea, you thought to yourself as if it wasn't completely obvious.

it was the morning after your date with remus and you couldn't understand how these pictures were up already. doesn't the media have better things to do instead of not respecting your privacy and talking about whos hand you're holding?

what also made you angry was that none of the comments seemed to be mentioming the fact that remus recently broke up with someone. you, on the other hand, hadn't been in a relationship for six months.

not that you wanted everyone to attack your boyfriend but you'll be the one to pay the price for the things you two have been doing together. it wasn't fair.

"what got you upset like that?" you jumped at the sound of remus's deep voice from his spot beside you. you glanced at him, your eyes softening at how beautiful he looked lying in your bed with his hair all messy.

"nothing," you mumbled, turned off your phone and placed it at your bedside table. you sighed and got up from the warmth of your covers (and remus's body) before saying, "i'm gonna go grocery shopping. there's absolutely nothing in here. you want something?"

"i'll go with you." 

"i'd rather go alone. i'll be right back." 

and then you left him there, in your bedroom with confusion written all over his pretty features.

——————————————————————

there was no point in keeping your relationship a secret. everyone knew. the picture of your and remus's faces were plastered on the front page of every magazine in north america and united kingdom (remus's friend james said so). still, you tried your best to spend as little time as possible with your boyfriend in public.

unfortunately, as soon as you left the gates of your property to meet remus, you were blinded by the harsh flashes of the cameras. it took your brain a second to register what was going on. remus was waiting there. his two bodyguards were trying to keep the paparazzi away from the two of you.

"y/n!"

"y/n! over here!"

"y/n, what's your message to the haters?"

"y/n, did you hear—"

"i'm sorry," remus spoke loudly so you could hear him well through the voices of the yelling men. "they followed me all the way from hollywood boulevard to here," he reached for your hand and interlinked his fingers with yours. "we couldn't shake them off."

before you could even open your mouth to reply, you were interrupted.

"remus! there's a rumour y/n has been hooking up with sirius black. what do you have to say to that? is it true?"

he completely ignored the question. he knew it wasn't true. you knew he knew.

remus got the door of the car for you and waited for you to get in before shutting it close. when he took a seat next to you and kissed you a "hello" before saying, "you look beautiful tonight", it was easy to forget all about the reality.

——————————————————————

you both were invited to the met gala which took place the very next week. the theme this year was victorian england so you were wearing a pink-white dress with poofy skirt, holding an umbrella of the same colors in your right hand and remus's hand in your left. your eyes were practically glued to him. he looked so handsome in his white shirt, which he had a vest suit over, and dark grey pants. everyone seemed to think so.

while posing for photos on the stairs, remus suddenly turned into you. his face was, out of the blue, too close to yours. you could see it in his eyes, feeling like you could read his mind.

"it's a big mistake," you said, though your smile said otherwise. "it might blow up in your pretty face."

the voice in your head was screaming at him.

do it anyway!

and he's going to.

[lowkeychenle]

masterlist + all about me (and nct dream)

hi everyone! name change/rebrand alert ;)

prev @/lowkeyjaemle, now @/lowkeychenle :D

i'm juls (as some of you already know) and my ult group is NCT Dream! i'm chenle biased (this will never change lol) and the majority of my blog is also chenle biased lol.

i do not have a bias wrecker. chenle is safe (although jisung is my #2, which just makes sense bc chenji is a package deal okay).

i'm 23 years old, and my pronouns are she/her. now that all this intro/boring stuff is out of the way, please keep reading for my updated masterlist ;)

p.s. if u are also a chenle stan, there are so many chenle fics here just for u

AY YO! MDNI >:(

text!au masterlist | smau masterlist

labyrinth (M) fic teaser

Chenle was more complex than you originally gave him credit for, and unfortunately for you, that would be your downfall. Lost in the labyrinth, you’ll always struggle to find your way out when the rose-colored glasses don’t let the light shine through.

the hardest part (M)

You, Chenle, and Jay have been best friends since before you could even remember. After moving away to pursue your dreams, you don't talk to them as often as you should. One day, you get a call notifying you of Jay's passing. When you go back to your hometown, you find everything is different except for one person--Chenle.

Some Things Can't Be Taught (M)

In which you are failing college physics, and your childhood best friend offers up one of his friends as your tutor—except, there’s a little something he wants to learn from you in exchange.

Guilty As Sin? (M)

Chenle is everything you want--everything you need. Somehow, the thought of him manages to pull you back in even after you were free. Messy kisses, late night trysts, and him tracing the word 'mine' on your thigh--barely anything, so how could you possibly be guilty as sin? (based on Guilty As Sin? by Taylor Swift)

And Then It Was (M)

After your marriage with Chenle was arranged by your parents for a company merger, things with him aren't quite like you expect. In your life full of obligations, he's determined to finally give you the ability to make your own choices. (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

Cruel Summer (M)

He wants you. Everything to do with you--your heart, your body, all while keeping your friendship. What's a man to do during a 30-day hook up to get you to stay? (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

See My Sea (M)

You never expected your lab partner to be the captain of the basketball team...or a decent human being, but you get proved wrong twice. Despite a rocky past of your own, you find yourself falling for him faster than you thought. Maybe, with his help, you can finally find your way home and see your sea. (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

Like We Just Met (M)

Everything else about the day is completely normal when Chenle realizes he wants to marry you. It hits him like a tidal wave, and he's itching to tell you just how much he wants to love you forever. (smut/fluff) *WC>10k

SOS (M)

Road trips with Chenle are your favorite thing. Late at night, the two of you stop at a hotel, but it's not everything it seems to be. You barely have time to settle before you get a call to evacuate immediately. Beneath red neon flashing lights, you and Chenle have to try and escape the group of people hunting you down. (suspense/thriller/smut)

this is me trying (M)

Meeting Chenle was a fluke--a good one, at that, but you never expected things to escalate the way they did. But despite the whirlwind romance, you'd go back to December if you had the chance... (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

Is It Over Now? (M) (Feat. Jisung)

Your relationship with Chenle is nothing but fight after fight. Amidst the toxicity, infidelity comes into play--except you're determined to one up him...but is it ever truly over? (angst/smut) *WC>10k

Within the Piano Keys (M)

For as long as you could remember, Chenle has been your neighbor and childhood best friend. That is, until one day he disappears without a word…or so you thought, since your mother hid all the letters he sent you. (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

Paris (M)

Pure smut on a hotel room balcony in Paris! Woo. (smut)

Sunshine (M)

You're not usually able to wake up with Chenle due to his schedules, but on the days that you can, it's certainly worth it. (smut/fluff)

Quiet Down (M)

You and Chenle visit your parents, but he just can't help himself... (smut)

You're Not Sorry

You and Chenle broke up two weeks ago. The first time he calls you at 3am, you ignore it. Then he calls again. You answer, and you go to him knowing there's nothing he could do to fix what he's broken. (angst)

The Last Straw (M)

Chenle has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. Being in love with him isn't easy, until you find out he reciprocates those feelings (thanks to Cockblocker!Jaemin). (smut/fluff/angst)

Chilled Nights, Fogged Windows (M)

After being gone for weeks, the first thing Chenle wants to do is get ice cream with you. One thing leads to another, and suddenly, you're in the backseat (oooops). (smut)

In Your Dreams (M)

What started as innocent phone sex hotline stuff (if that can ever really be innocent?), you get an offer you just can't refuse...you just have to be a little sleep deprived ;) (Chenle as Freddy Kruger Halloween thing lol)

Irrevocably (M) Series Masterlist

You were friends with benefits with Chenle until he got a girlfriend...fast forward months later, and now they've broken up--leaving Chenle to come back to you, very much in need of a distraction. (angst/smut/fluff)

Opposites Attract [Poly!Jaemle AU] Series Masterlist

Your relationship with Jaemin started out simple--friends with benefits with zero complications...until there was one. That complication's name is Zhong Chenle, and after Jaemin agrees to expand your exclusivity deal to involve him, there's only one logical thing left to do... (smut)

모래성 (ONE) (TWO) (THREE)

You and Mark have had a friends with benefits relationship for almost a year now. He's in love with you, addicted to you, but you don't feel the same. You're his poison. (smut/angst)

Late Nights (M)

Mark's busy schedule only gives him time to come over late at night, but it's safe to say neither of you are complaining by the time you fall asleep. (fluff/smut)

Empire State of Mind (M) (Feat. Jisung)

Life with Jisung is almost perfect. He loves you, and you love him. But when you run into your ex, Mark Lee, you realize the one thing you've been missing all along is him. (smut/angst)

Lost & Wayward Mini-Masterlist

After the worst couple weeks of your life, you finally break down in the middle of an alleyway. Jaemin hears you and comes to comfort you, and little do you know, he's about to change your life--in more ways than one. (fluff/smut/angst)

[mediocre-writerr]

hi!! i absolutely loved sparks, it was PERFECT and for sure the best maddy imagine in this app

so i would like to request a maddy x fem!reader based on style by taylor swift where maddy is "you got that long hair slicked back white tshirt" and reader is "and i got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt"

and reader is like, a cute sweet good girl and everyone thinks she's and angel so when she shows up dating the maddy perez everyone is shocked but they don't really care and just a looot of pda and maddy likes to keep her hands around reader waist all the time and tease her about the skirts she wear saying it is for her

well, thanks for reading and i really like your writing <3

style [maddy perez]

summary: you've always had that good girl faith, maddy perez just happens to be the opposite of that. it's the perfet combo

warnings: some explicit language, underage drinking, and allusions to smut

pairings: maddy perez x fem!reader

mediocre author's note: hey guys! this request has been sitting in my inbox for over a year now...i apologize dearly lol! but it's out now and i hope you enjoy. slowly, but surely getting through all of these requests so please be patient with me. love you all!

Whispers bounced off the lockers and classrooms in East Highland High School. Ever since Maddy Perez finally and officially moved on from Nate Jacobs, rumors have been spreading about who has captivated her heart.

“Y/N, are you going to the party tonight?” Lexi asked you as you put your books in your locker.

A laugh interrupted your answer, “Y/N? Go to a party?” Kat said as she continued to laugh, “Lexi, you’re one of the smartest people I know, but that was such a dumb question,” 

“Ha ha, very funny, but as a matter of fact, I am going to the party tonight,” you answered, shutting the locker behind you. 

“Oh my gosh, is Hell freezing over?” Kat continued to tease and you rolled your eyes playfully, “If Hell is freezing over does that mean we can finally meet your new boyfriend Maddy?” 

“Yeah, I don’t understand why you won’t just tell us! We’re your best friends!” Cassie added on as all of you made your way towards the parking lot.

Maddy just shrugged with a small smirk on her face, “It’s fun keeping you all on your toes, besides, keeping it a secret makes the sex a lot hotter,” she whispered the last sentence, shooting the group a wink, “Bye girls! I’ll see you tonight!” 

As you part ways with the other girls, you pull your phone out of your pocket: Kat and Cassie are going to lose their minds because of you. 

You watched as the three dots quickly popped up without missing a beat: And? They can keep thinking all they want, it’ll make the reveal even better. 

Very true. You replied before quickly typing up another text, You think the sex is hotter because we keep it a secret?

Our sex is always hot, baby ; ) I’ll see you at midnight xxx  A warm flush appeared on your face at the simple words, as you started your car to begin your drive home. 

You and Maddy had been dating for about four months now. What started out as a drunk hookup turned into something way more.

It was different than Maddy expected. Her expectations for relationships and love in general were washed down the drain after her toxic cycle with Nate. She always believed that she wasn’t built for a normal relationship. She always thought that she had to fight and argue for a relationship to be exciting. 

That wasn’t the case with you. Maddy tried to pick a fight with you once, but you quickly shut it down. You reassured her that she doesn’t have to prove that she is something she’s not. The Maddy you knew and were falling in love with was nothing like the girl who was dating Nate Jacobs. She was worried that it would bore her, but it didn’t. Your soft touches and reassuring words made her feel like she was falling in love with you over and over again. 

You were pulled out of your homework when your phone buzzed: I’m outside xxx 

Quietly, you tiptoed out of your room and downstairs to the backdoor, making sure to keep it unlocked so you can sneak back in after. Maddy was leaning against the passenger door as her headlights were off, causing her already dark car to seem much darker.

“Is that the Maddy Perez wearing a plain white t-shirt?” you asked, smirking as she smiled at your words.

She wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you into her, humming in response, “I love this tight little skirt you’re wearing baby,” she said before moving to whisper in your ear, “You look so gorgeous. I am debating if I should keep you all to myself tonight,” 

You bit your lip, lifting her chin up so your eyes could meet, “That would ruin the fun tonight, don’t you think? How about we make our little appearance and then you can take me home and we’ll have our own fun?” 

“Deal,” she whispered, nipping at the sweet spot on your neck. 

Maddy opened the door for you before quickly getting into her seat to drive to McKay’s. She rested her hand on your thigh, as she drove down the suburban streets. 

Her gaze lingering on your skirt or your tight crop top. The red light illuminated on the two of you as she came to a stop. You leaned over the middle console, guiding her face to look at you. Your lips brushing over hers as you spoke, “Keep your wild eyes on the road,” Maddy let out a groan as you fell back onto the passenger seat. 

“Has anyone seen Maddy? I know she loves to be fashionably late, but she’s even later than usual,” Kat asked.

“Y/N’s not here yet either,” Lexi added on. 

You smirked to yourself as you heard them talk, “Sorry I’m late guys, I was doing homework and completely lost track of time,” 

“We were starting to think that you would pull a no show again,” Kat added on with a smirk lingering her face before her jaw dropped, “Is that Maddy?”

“In a plain white t-shirt?” Cassie chimed up equally as shocked as the brunette. 

“Oh wow. I mean I’ve seen her wear my shirts before, but this is so fucking hot,” you winked at all of them before making your way towards your girlfriend. 

Maddy smirked at you before wrapping her arms around your waist. Her lips finally meeting yours in a passionate kiss. You tugged her closer to you before smiling into it. 

“Y/N and Maddy?” Cassie breathed out.

“No fucking way,” Kat whispered.

Lexi rolled her eyes at the two, “You guys really had no idea? It was obvious,” 

You and Maddy finally pulled away as you approached your friends. Cassie and Kat still needed time to pick their jaws up from off the floor, “What happened, Kat? Close your mouth, sweetheart, you’ll catch flies,” you finally tease the girl back. 

“I’m sorry, but what the fuck?” Kat admitted, “Y/N! You’re one of those good girls that everyone always talks about. You’re with Maddy Perez?!”

“Am I not a good girl, Kat?” Maddy faked pouted. 

You chuckle, kissing her cheek softly, “Trust me Kat, Maddy is a very good girl,” you wink at her and everyone in the circle gags jokingly except for Maddy who just tightens her hand around your waist, leaving an open mouthed kiss on your neck. “Plus, you know what they say every good girl has a thing for the bad guy.” 

[sourholland]

based off of taylor swift’s song style

a/n → well i bet some people didn’t expect this story to be updated again, however here i am and here it is. this is chapter 4. what mostly inspired me to try and finish this series is the continuous love i have received through it. there were a lot of people who told me how much they enjoy it and who am i to deny them. however i know that it’s been a year since i’ve updated this so if you want off of the taglist because of disinterest, please let me know!!! same goes for wanting to be on the taglist, just lmk 🩵

summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.

warnings → strong language, nsfw content

word count → 3.4k

reblog and leave some comments if you enjoy!!!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter 4

“He’s fucking obsessed with you,” Sydney reasoned with you, listening to you finally debrief everything that had gone on between you and Joe over the last few weeks. “If you seriously start with all of this self-sabotage bullshit, I’m gonna kill you.”

Lena sat criss cross on the floor, silent and turning over the information you had given her carefully. Sydney was sitting on the couch beside you, knees pulled up to her chest as she spooned more ice cream into her mouth. It had been days since you slept over at Joe’s and besides a few text conversations and fleeting glances at the stadium, nothing more had happened between the two of you.

“She’s right,” Lena finally chimed in, her mass of curls held up in a claw clip she’d stolen from you during freshman year. “He’s obsessed.”

With a roll of your eyes, you turned over dramatically and buried your face into the throw pillow on your couch and screamed into it. If he was so obsessed, why hadn’t he called? Maybe because you completely overreacted after seeing one text on his phone like a psycho bitch, you thought to yourself begrudgingly. He probably thought you were crazy and territorial over guys you weren’t even with.

“I think I ruined it when I left the bar,” you sighed, considering screaming into the pillow again like a child.

“Oh my god, shut up. Men are so simple and literally do not care about stuff like that, I’m telling you. If he told you he let it go, he let it go. There’s no reason to overthink it,” Sydney assured you with a half-full mouth of chocolate ice cream. “Do you remember when I was fucking with Josh sophomore year and found out he was still hooking up with that one girl on the lacrosse team? Lily or whatever the fuck her name was–whatever, not the point–but do you remember when I deadass asked the front desk of our dorm building for a pair of scissors and walked a mile to where his car was parked and slashed three of his tires. Yeah, well he still hits me up. Men do not give a fuck.”

Lena had begun clutching her stomach in fits of laughter, rolling onto her back and shaking her head with tears prickling the corners of her eyes. You clapped a hand over your mouth, kicking Sydney and recalling how feral the three of you had been during your freshman and sophomore year. Moments like these made you wish the three of you were already living together again, as you had the prior three years. Well, Sydney shared a suite with you and Lena sophomore year and the three of you got an apartment junior year. After you told your parents that you planned to stay in Cincinnati after graduation, they knew you would need a place and gave you your graduation present early–a down payment on an apartment and your first month's rent. 

Cheering with the Bengals and substitute teaching on the side allowed you to save a little, but most of your money went towards bills. Lena and Sydney were planning to move in and split the cost three ways as soon as your prior lease was up. They had agreed to take on your portion of rent when you moved out of your previous apartment two months ago, knowing they wouldn’t have to put any money away for the down payment when they did move in with you. They still had about three weeks left until the lease was up, but you had all spent weeks packing up the other apartment slowly but surely. There were enough rooms for each of you to get your own, one was just significantly smaller than the other two. Lena had volunteered to take the space immediately, claiming she didn’t mind the lack of closet space or squeaky door.

Lena never had it in her to mind anything like that, she always just brushed it off and said it didn’t bother her one bit. She told you she was just excited to live with her two sisters, making you cry on the spot and tell her how much you appreciated her. Sydney would have taken the small room, she just wouldn’t have been happy about it and somehow both you and Lena knew she would find closet space one way or another. 

“I can’t wait for Joe Burrow to be sitting in my kitchen,” said Lena, letting Sydney spoon ice cream into her mouth now. “Or what about when you guys are fucking–”

“Lena!” You took the pillow you had been yelling into and pressed it into your flaming cheeks.

“Okay wait, answer honestly and don’t be modest. How big?” she swallowed, clasping her hands together in front of her, ready to inch them apart. “Tell me when to stop.”

“You’re both insufferable!” 

Lena, however, only continued to move her hands apart from each other with wide eyes when you still hadn’t said to stop. She hit the solid length, you nearly wheezed the word out with tears freely streaming down your face as all three of you clutched your abdomens in hysterics and girlish giggles.

“Do you need a third or what?” Sydney joked, already having pulled Joe’s Instagram up to stalk for the millionth time.

“Obviously,” you gave her a playful once over and winked, sending the three of you into fits of laughter again. 

⋆------------⋆

Practices leading up to the next preseason game against the Giants were brutal. Coaches were through with putting up with excuses and mistakes, leaving most of you on the team crying by the end of the night. When they wanted you to suffer, you suffered. Some of the senior girls who had been cheering with the team for a few years tried their best to ease the anxieties of the less-veteraned girls.

Everything hurt, all the time. Your back and legs mostly, but the soreness in your thighs and glutes made even warmups painful.

“Y/N!” Coach Traci’s voice bellowed. “What are you doing with your arms? How many times have I told you that if you can’t get this, I’m moving you back for our sideline dance sequences so you’re less visible?”

“Multiple times,” your voice came out as a little more than an embarrassed squeak. “I’m sorry, Coach.”

“Don’t be sorry, be better.”

You had to get your mind straight, shaking off the criticism and putting everything into the next time you ran the dance. Coach Traci nodded at you, the only acknowledgement of improvement that you would get for tonight. After the shitshow that was the Cardinals game, you knew better than to balk or disrespect anyone during practices. Everyone was strung out and tired, it was during a water break when you realized Joe was perched in his usual spot, headphones around his neck and running through some easy sprints. 

Good fucking god, had he heard your scolding? The thought brought you back to high school, the feeling of getting a question blatantly wrong in front of your crush or being reprimanded in front of the class for talking too loudly during a lesson. That same flutter of uneasiness left you feeling uncomfortable within your own skin, distracted again but pushing the thoughts aside in order not to repeat the whole embarrassing ordeal.

Joe was doing his absolute best job of casually sitting in on as many cheer practices as possible. The last thing he wanted was to cause trouble for either of you, but he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t using the fact that he is who he is to do his workouts wherever he wanted around the facility without a second glance from anyone. There were very few people meandering around, telling Joe what to do. With his injury, he was just now getting back into light conditioning and drill work so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to remain at the stadium to workout after practice had ended. He was watching from the sidelines most practices, occasionally being able to do a few workouts and passing the football around while everyone ran plays. 

He would take advantage of the opportunity to watch you while it was the most inconspicuous.

Practice unsurprisingly went late. Joe had disappeared back inside at some point, to finally go home you assumed. Once you were heaving and your body felt like pure jelly, you were finally allowed to go and grab your things and head in to shower. There were two text messages from Joe, delivered fifteen minutes prior.

Joe: Text me when you’re done

Joe: Actually do you wanna do what you gotta do and meet me in our locker room??

This boy is genuinely idiotic if he thinks you’re just waltzing into the team locker room, facility still far from emptied out. You ignored the messages until you got into your own locker room, sitting on a bench and shaking your head at his idea once again. Joe had absolutely nothing to lose here, that much was obvious from the start. You were a completely different story, though.

Y/N: Joe omg

Y/N: There are cameras everywhereeeeeeeee

Y/N: Can you just call me later?

Joe: No

Joe: Just go around the long way, don’t take the hall Emily’s office is on and come around from the other side. 

When you didn’t respond right away, he texted again.

Joe: The security camera isn’t facing the door, it’s facing who comes down that main hallway

Joe: I swear no one is gonna see you, the cameras will literally only get you taking a different hallway to walk out of the building and we can leave out of different doors

Y/N: You’re actually insane

Y/N: How do you even know what ways the camera faces???

Joe: I just walked out of the locker room and looked

Joe: I basically walked the whole thing, everyone went home 

Joe: Obviously not your team but yk what I mean, your coaches office is on the complete other side of the building 

Y/N: Go home, Joe :)

Joe: Please

Your thumbs hovered over the letters ‘N’ and ‘O’, but there was a part of you that couldn’t deny how excited the idea of seeing him again made you. The sneaking around had your gut twisting in a way that had all of your rational thoughts going right out the door. You’re pathetic, you told yourself as you glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one watched you type your next message.

Y/N: You need to see me so bad that you’re saying please?

Joe: Desperately

Y/N: Oh you’re good lmao

Joe: So I’ll see you in fifteen

Liking the message, you put your head in your hands for a moment and huffed a laugh as you finally turned on the shower and stripped yourself of the now sweaty practice clothes. Most of the girls showered at home after night practices, so only a few remained readying to leave. You took your time, double shampooing and ensuring as many people as possible had departed from the practice facility. 

“Good night, girl!” Carolina called out, walking out the door and leaving only you.

“Night, Carol!”

With shaky breaths, you brushed your wet hair once again and looked into the mirror. You had no makeup on and wore shorts and a Bengals hoodie now, which did nothing for your confidence as you walked out of the locker room with your bag in hand and cast your eyes downward. In your attempts to look unsuspicious, you took the long back hallway that wrapped around the inside of the stadium. There was the muffled sound of the janitors' speakers, but they were far from where you were and each office and support center looked desolate and left for the night.

The door to the players’ locker room was slightly ajar, leaving you to glance around again and double check Joe’s camera assessment. He was right, there was a camera on the end of the hallway, but it faced the opposite direction and caught whoever took the main entrance inside of this part of the building. Quickly, you slipped into the much nicer locker room and shut the door behind you. 

“That was twenty-five minutes,” Joe’s voice sounded from behind you.

“This is a stupid idea,” you cast him a playfully annoyed glance and locked the door behind you, turning to find him in shorts and a black T-shirt. “You’re a really bad influence, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” he walked towards you with such ease that you wouldn’t have believed he was just bed-ridden from surgery. His fingers found the hem of your hoodie, smirking down at you in his usual arrogantly charming manner. “I’m still glad you came, though. Even if I compromise your moral judgment so badly.”

He is so fucking hot, you thought as he continued fiddling with your sweatshirt. How is it possible to have this much sex appeal? How is it humanly possible for anyone to resist a look like his? Your entire body was on fire, swallowing hard and wondering once again how you wound up here with him.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed. “I know I keep saying that and you’re probably sick of it. It’s true, though.”

The pads of his thumb and index finger brushed your bare torso, the circular motion leaving you breathing a bit heavier. His touch was less feverish than usual, more gentle and fleeting like he wanted you to know how much he wanted you. Hardly blinking, you let the tense silence guide you towards him in a way that left you practically flush against each other. Joe’s breathing hitched, giving you those sultry bedroom eyes and stupid smirk.

This time it was you who could no longer resist, kissing him softly as if to say that you, too, could not stop thinking of him. He slid his arms around your lower back, allowing you to wrap yours around his neck. Your back arched slightly at the long kiss, his right hand lowering to grab your ass and squeeze. He somehow maneuvered the two of you farther into the locker room between open-mouth, breathy kisses. Your back collided with the wall to the right of the sequence of open lockers, his mouth on your neck and biting gently at the skin of your collarbone. 

He pulled your hoodie off, throwing it somewhere behind him. Your fingers found his hair, tugging as he marked your chest up ravenously. A problem for later, you pushed the thought away and let your head roll to the side as he palmed both of your breasts through the fabric of your sports bra, occasionally leaving a hum of pleasure against the soft skin between your breasts. He kissed down your stomach and held you roughly by one hip, sinking to his knees looking up at you asking permission. 

“Did you know this was going to happen when you texted me?” You teased, still holding onto him by his hair. 

“When I texted you,” he started, letting out a breathy chuckle. “I prayed to god that this would happen, but I figured you were gonna tell me to fuck off.”

With a playful shove of his head, you looked away with blazing skin and blown pupils. Joe pulled down your shorts in one quick motion, running his hands down your hips and thighs with a lustful expression. He kissed you over the fabric of your underwear, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. There was no denying the arousal dripping from you, wetting your panties, leaving Joe to raise an eyebrow and flash you an egotistical grin. A breathy moan escaped you and he stopped, causing a near-whimper to come from you.

“Quiet, baby,” he chided softly, “I need you to be quiet or we’re both fucked.”

The fact that he had called you baby was something to dissect tomorrow, you only inhaled sharply at his words. He looked up at you again with hair falling over his forehead, “can you be quiet for me?”

If he kept looking at you like that, you would do just about anything for him. You gave him a nod and he kneaded the flesh of your thigh now, finally pulling your underwear down and discarding them carelessly. He wrapped your right leg around his shoulder, on his knees before you.

“Can’t say that I’m complaining at this sight, right where you belong,” you whispered, cheekily.

“You’re hilarious,” he rolled his eyes and pinched your backside. “I’m on my knees for you anytime, just say the word.”

He didn’t give you even a second to respond, tonguing you with such desperation that your toes curled the second he put his mouth on you. Your slick had already coated his mouth and chin, his tongue running between your folds as his nose brushed the bundle of nerves. You struggled to keep quiet, eyes squeezing shut as you rocked your hips into his mouth and relished in each breathy moan that escaped him and reverberated against your center. 

His thumb went to your clit, rubbing feverishly at the bud and watching you turn to putty in his hands. Your legs began to shake violently, wondering how much longer you could stand the tight coiling in your belly. One of your hands remained in his hair, the other gripped the hard wall for any semblance of steadying as he devoured you. 

He grunted against you, picking up his pace and letting his hands explore as you bit back each and every sound you wished to make. He steadied you as you came undone, panting and unable to move or see. Stars clouded your vision, black spots causing you to close your eyes and breathe for a moment as you regained feeling of your body again.

The handle of the door shook, someone was trying to get in.

“Fuck,” you whispered at Joe, who was already carefully dropping your leg and reaching back to grab your shorts and hoodie. 

You slid the shorts on, throwing the hoodie over your head and letting Joe silently lead you farther back into the locker room where the showers were. He gave you a look that said to sit tight and make no noise. He didn’t look nearly as nervous as you, legs still gelatin and causing you to have to lean back against the wall to ensure your balance.

“Anyone in there?” A man’s voice sounded, muffled slightly from the distance now between you and the door. 

“Yeah!” Joe called out as casually as possible, he sauntered over to the door and flicked the lock and opened it. A janitor stood before him, cart beside him to clean. “Hey, Phil. I stayed late tonight, I don’t know why I locked the door. Must’ve been a reflex.”

Phil nodded slowly, he looked into the locker room and saw it all emptied out. Joe rubbed the back of his neck, swallowing and waiting for the man to say something. Phil only coughed and averted his eyes when he saw the lilac underwear balled up on the floor. He met Joe’s eyes and muttered that he’d come back around once he left, but not to be more than ten more minutes. Joe gave him a gracious thanks and sighed in relief as the man retreated down the hallway and brought his cart into another room, shutting the door behind him and turning his radio up considerably louder than he’d ever heard him play it.

“You can come out now,” he said, turning around and seeing the panties on the ground. He had no clue if Phil had seen them, but he also had no doubt that Phil was no busybody or gossip at his ripe age of at least seventy. 

“Do I get to keep these?” He asked as you came out from the showers, holding them up and smirking.

“Did I or did I not say that this was a stupid idea?” 

“Is that a yes or a no?”

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[writingonleaves]

and all at once, you’re all i want (i’ll never let you go) - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x original female character

warnings: literally nothing. fluff! some minor worship of nina hischier (the goat), a little love letter to my alma mater

title: "king of my heart" by taylor swift

word count: 10.3k

author's note: first fic in the new year is for @wyattjohnston 's winter fic exchange 2k24!! i had the absolute pleasure of writing for @wildrangers <3 taylor, i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed putting it together and demi, thank you for your endless hard work for putting this on!!

four times where jack hughes and ashley grassie showed up for each other and one time where everyone showed up for them

*****

one - two months

“Jack, are you sure about this?” Ashley asks, fiddling with the silver rings on her fingers. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He responds confidently, sparing a look at her from the drivers seat before turning his eyes back on the road. “Everyone’s expecting you.”

“You told them?”

“That my girlfriend was coming with me to a New Year’s party? Of course.” He squeezes her thigh lightly. “They’re excited to meet you. And not while we’re working.”

“I’m excited to meet them too.”

“You sure?” He teases lightly. “You’ve been quiet all afternoon.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.” They stop at a red light, and he leans over to kiss her cheek. “Ash, baby, they’re gonna love you.”

“But you don’t know that,” she protests softly. 

“I do, actually. Because everyone loves you.”

She rolls her eyes. “You can’t promise me that everyone’s gonna even like me.”

He shrugs. “I’ll prove you wrong. You’ll see.” He tugs at her gold sweater. “Is this new?”

“Yeah. Seems fitting for the occasion. Sparkles equals New Years, right?”

“I like it a lot.”

“I know what you’re doing,” she deadpans. 

He smirks. “And what might that be?”

“Distracting me.”

“Maybe so. You’re so smart, Miss Columbia Grad.”

“Jack,” she whines, making him laugh. 

He picks up her hand and kisses the back of it. “Trust me, okay? It’ll be great. And I’ll be with you all night.”

Ashley swallows, before forcing herself to nod. 

The thing is, after two months of dating officially (she’s not counting the month beforehand when there wasn’t a label on things even though there should’ve been), there are still important parts of each other’s lives they have yet to experience together. She’s gone to a few of his games, but has never met any of his teammates (except for Luke, but he doesn’t count), choosing to meet Jack back at his place after instead of waiting for him at the rink. She also doesn’t count that one Devils game she had to fill in for, which is how she met Jack in the first place. The few times he’s invited her along when he does go out with them, she’s been busy with other things. 

New Year’s is kinda a big time to be meeting new people. People that mean a lot to Jack. But that could just also be all in Ashley’s head. She’s never really done this before. The last serious boyfriend she had was in high school where everyone knew each other. There was no need for introductions. 

Jack squeezes her hand. “Thank you.” 

“For?” 

“Coming with me to this. Taking off work early. I appreciate it a lot.” 

She shrugs casually. “It’s about time, right?” She pointedly ignores the look he shoots her, because she doesn’t want him to know how nervous she really is.

Before they know it, Jack’s pulled into the driveway of the Toffolis and her hands start sweating again. She gathers the flowers on her lap and the wine bag as Jack rounds the car and opens the door for her. He grabs the bag, presses a kiss atop her head and hand in hand, they walk to the front door. She lets Jack take the lead as he just walks in. They walk into the kitchen area, as Cat pulls her into a hug and thanks them graciously for the flowers and wine.

It turns out that Ashley really does have nothing to worry about. Getting thrown into a whirlwind of introductions and new names is a lot, but she doesn’t mind. A wave of comfort crashes over her as Luke practically hauls her into a hug. 

She finds herself besides Nico after he hands her a glass of wine. “You’re a journalist, right?” He asks.

“I am.”

“Do you ever watch Jack’s media interviews?”

Ashley giggles. “I do once in awhile. Trust me, I have my thoughts. I also met him for the first time from that. And you, technically.”

“Right, right. Will we ever see you in the locker room again?”

“Probably not. I was just filling in for Danny. On the rare chance I do sports, it’s usually for the Jets. Besides, better to watch and support you all without any stake professionally.”

“What do you usually report on?” Nico asks with genuine curiosity. 

She perks up, like anytime she gets to talk about her job. As she talks, using her hands animatedly despite one of them holding a drink, Jack looks on from a distance with a lovesick look in his eyes.

“She is way too cool for you,” Dawson says, fixing his cap.

Jack rolls his eyes. “Shut up.” But Jack knows his teammate’s right.

Jack’s not clingy, perse, but it’s hard for him to watch Ashley just…be and not be touching a part of her. Even if it’s just sliding up against her so her body is pressed alongside his, he just wants to be near her all the time. 

(Quinn once sent some random thing he found on Instagram about love languages a few years back and Jack had remembered absolutely roasting him. But maybe he had a point)

“So,” Nicole starts, refilling both their glasses up with champagne a bit later in the evening. “Why Jack?”

Ashley snorts. “Your guess is as good as mine.” From beside his girlfriend, Jesper barks out a laugh and from next to Ashley, Jack pouts. Ashley laughs, leaning into Jack’s side. “I’m kidding. Mostly. I was hesitant at first though.”

“Oh, yeah. He told me about this,” Jesper says. “Said he chased you down the hall after post-game media and asked you out?”

“Sounds about right.”

“And you said yes to that?” Jesper asks. Jack whacks his teammate in the stomach. 

“Not right away,” Ashley admits. “He gave me his number and told me to text him if I was interested. And I ended up being interested.”

“Lucky for him,” Nicole chuckles. 

Jack squeezes Ashley’s waist fondly. “Lucky for me.”

She listens on in interest as Nicole talks about how she and Jesper got together. Somewhere throughout the conversation, she can’t help but let her mind drift. They’ve been together for years now, been living together for a bit and are looking to move into a house. She literally moved away from Sweden full-time for him. 

Ashley swallows as Jack asks about how their house search is going. There’s a very little chance that Jack will be leaving Jersey anytime within the next half decade. But her mother warned her that his career could take him places in the future unexpectedly. 

And in a way, so could Ashley’s. But it’s not as easy. 

She scolds herself for even thinking this far. They’ve been dating for literally two months. That’s nothing in the grand scheme of things. They’re celebrating entering the new year today, but she has no idea if they’ll even be together for all of it.

She’s hoping they are. God, she really fucking hopes so. But she could hope until the end of the world and have it fall short. She smoothes her sweater out with her suddenly-clammy hands, chugging the whole glass of champagne before putting the flute down on a nearby table. She excuses herself politely to use the bathroom, which she does, before getting some air. 

She definitely looks a bit crazy outside on the Toffoli’s porch in the dead of winter, but she doesn’t mind the biting edge of cold. It’s grounding her, actually. 

“Was looking for you.”

Ashley doesn’t even look at Jack, humming as she hears him walking out to stand next to her. “Did my sparkle sweater give me away?”

“No, Neeks did, actually. Said he saw you walking out.” She finally looks at him with his eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not cold?”

“Don’t even think about offering me your jacket,” she warns. “I know you’re only wearing a t-shirt underneath.”

“Then come back inside so we both don’t die.”

“In a minute,” she promises. 

He huffs, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to try and generate some heat. “Everything good?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Just, you know, minorly freaking out at her boyfriend’s teammate’s place about the fact that she might be falling in love with him even though it hasn’t been that long and what a future could look like for them and how that future could fall apart in an instant.

So regular New Year’s Eve thoughts.

“Unlike you, I don’t have a college degree, much less two,” Jack grins. “I can’t read minds.”

“And you think I can?” She jokes back weakly. He just chuckles. She continues. “Your friends are nice. I like them a lot.”

He lights up anytime someone he loves gets brought up in conversation. “Yeah, they’re cool. They like you too.”

“That’s good,” she says softly. 

He taps her forehead with his pointer finger. “Countdown’s soon. Come back inside?” He laces their fingers together. 

“You gonna kiss me at midnight?”

“Think so.”

“You only think so?”

Jack smirks, kissing her deeply. “Shut up.”

Ashley is absolutely floored.

two - one year and one month

Cam’s wedding crept up on her. 

Of course, Ashley knew it was coming, but still. Though she was surprised when Jack told her that he was free of games on that particular early November weekend somehow, only having to miss an optional practice and that he would notify the coaching staff far in advance. 

It’s not the act of bringing Jack that she’s nervous about. Cam and Amanda, his fiance, came into the city a few months ago and they all grabbed lunch before heading to a game at The Rock that night. She’ll never forget how ultimately “traitor-like to the Bruins” Cam felt, Ashley and Amanda finding it hilarious. They both had a good time though, and that’s all that matters, and Cam, who has always looked out for her even before she had ever asked, subtly gave his approval. 

(“I’ll admit my assumptions about him were wrong,” Cam had said. “He’s awesome, and he really cares about you. If he’s the one, I won’t be mad about it. He’s very lucky.”)

It’s more of a particular person that’s going to be at the wedding. 

Weirdly, when she and Alex broke up way back when, one of the thoughts that circled her mind months after was exactly this. If and when the day of Cam’s wedding came, and they were both still close to him, they’d both be there. And here they are. 

She’s over him — obviously, considering she’s in a happy, long-term relationship and it’s been four years — but how do you prepare to see your ex-boyfriend when the last time you saw him you had just broken up and you were in tears?

She and Jack drive up to Cape Cod early the day of the wedding and she feels a bit bad that he’s driving after he had a game last night and has one in just two days but he doesn’t mind, happy to be driving as long as she’s in the passenger seat next to him. They’re switching off anyways, and she had driven the first half. Cam and Amanda rented out a bunch of rooms at a few inns for their guests so her and Jack will get ready there before heading to the venue. 

From a quick rundown Cam gave her a month ago when they caught up over the phone, she’ll at least be familiar with a good amount of people at the wedding. She’s excited to see them all again and catch up, those memories that were bittersweet at some point, all water under the bridge so many years later. 

It’s what you get for dating within a friend group. Ultimately, at some point, sides are chosen.

At the end of the day, it’s Cam, someone who has always been there for her since they were 16, even when she didn’t necessarily do the same. He’s given his friendship selflessly to her for over a decade. The least she can do is come to his wedding to celebrate. 

And she has Jack with her. Nothing can go wrong with Jack by her side. 

“You okay?” Jack’s voice breaks her out of her thoughts as he squeezes her thigh, sneaking a look before focusing back on the road. “You’re quiet. You’re rarely quiet in the car.”

“It’s a 5 hour drive, Jack.”

“I’ve been playing country nonstop for the last half an hour and you haven’t chirped me once.” She starts playing with his fingers and his eyebrows furrow. “Alright. What’s going on, baby? What are you thinking about?”

“You know what I’m thinking about.” She shoots back with no malice. 

He sighs, linking their hands together and bringing them up to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “Yeah. I got you though. I’ll be with you the whole day.”

“It’s dumb, really. Four years. And I haven’t thought about him in a long time.”

He shrugs. “He was your first heartbreak, and you haven’t seen him since. This is gonna be some sort of closure, even if it’s four years later.”

“You seem awfully cool about this, considering, you know, your current girlfriend is lowkey freaking out about seeing her ex again.”

“I’m not worried,” he replies easily. “You need this closure. I wasn’t smart like you back then and actually saw my exes probably way sooner than I should’ve. Besides, I’m the one on your arm now. Not him. I’m not pressed.”

She scoffs at yet another country song playing and skips it, snorting when ‘Suburban Legends’ by Taylor Swift comes on. How fitting. “I’m definitely hyping it up in my head. It’s nothing. And Cam told me that he purposefully put us at separate tables, in case Alex says some questionable shit while drunk.”

“No worries about you saying anything questionable?”

“Compared to Alex? No way.” He snorts, amused. But he knows enough about his girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend to not push it. “I wonder if he’s bringing someone. God, I hope he is.”

“Why? Don’t want to rub it in his face that you’re happy and in love?”

“That’s mean,” she says airily. “No. I hope he’s bringing someone because I want to know what kind of girl can tolerate his ass. I did, but I was 20 and stupid. I wanna see what kind of girl can tolerate him at 26.”

“Does he know I’m coming?”

“Cam?”

He snorts. “No. Alex.”

“Who knows? Even if he does, he probably doesn’t care and isn’t overthinking it like I am.”

“I think you’d be surprised,” she looks at him, confused and he bites his lip. “Even if they play it off, guys are affected by that stuff more than you’d think.”

“What is there to be affected by?”

“You,” Jack says simply. “Not that I’m biased or anything, but you leave quite an impact on everyone you meet. And that lucky ass got to date you. As someone who also has had that privilege, I can relate a bit.”

Ashley chuckles before squeezing his hand. “Thanks for coming with me. I know your schedule is really busy with the season and everything-”

“You don’t need to thank me. Isn’t half of having a significant other just bringing them as plus ones to weddings?”

“Fair.” She leans her head on his shoulder momentarily as he pushes the sunglasses on top of his head to his face. “Thank you, though. I feel bad that you’re missing practice.”

He snorts. “Don’t.”

“They didn’t give you a hard time?”

“Not really. It’s an optional, anyways. Nico just told us to have fun and I think Lindy has a soft spot for you somehow. I’m excited. I like Cam. And I’m happy to be here with you.” He smirks, adding. “Come on, baby. Did you think I was gonna leave you to dry when your ex is gonna be there?”

“You don’t know anybody at the wedding. And Cam grew up in a hockey-loving family from Boston. There’s bound to be people who recognize you.”

“So I’m the arm candy for the night. That works perfectly for me.” 

They arrive at the inn just past 1, and decide to stop by a nearby cafe to grab a quick bite. Jack decides to take a short nap before they have to start getting ready and head out while she scrolls on her phone and plays with his hair since his head is on her lap. Occasionally she finds herself staring outside the window at the water with a smile. Even if not in the summer, the Cape is beautiful.

Once it hits 4:15, she figures that she should start getting ready, but she can’t move without disturbing Jack since he’s still sleeping soundly on her lap. She gently whispers his name and presses a few kisses on his forehead as his breathing changes, groaning a bit as he stretches and opens his eyes. 

“Time to go?”

“In like, an hour. I need to start getting ready.”

He hums, puckering his lips and she takes the hint, kissing him soundly twice before ushering him off her lap. She lays out the few makeup products she has, moisturizing her face before putting light foundation and concealer on. As always, she focuses more attention on her eyeshadow, deciding to add a bit of gold glitter to compliment her pink dress. She clips a matching pink bow in, liking the way it blends with the natural brown of her hair. She decides to save the lipstick for right before they leave and turns to Jack, who’s buttoning his shirt. 

“What do you think?” He looks up as he’s buttoning his cuffs. “Too much glitter?” She asks.

“Never too much glitter. You look beautiful.”

She looks at his blazer and tie that he’s laid out on the bed, looking at him with minor confusion. “Since when do you own that tie?”

“Since last week when I bought it.”

She looks at where her dress is hanging. “It matches my dress.”

“Yes it does.”

She looks towards him as he tucks his shirt in, a sudden wave of love rushing through her heart. “I love you.”

He looks up and immediately walks over to her, placing a hand on her waist and kissing her. “I love you too.”

She puts on her dress quickly, smiling when she doesn’t even have to ask Jack as he comes over to help her zip it up, pressing a chaste kiss on her shoulder. His phone ringing interrupts and she brushes her hair before she puts on her accessories. 

“Sup Quinny?”

Quinn’s voice crackles through Jack’s phone. “Where the fuck are you going all dressed up on a Saturday? I know for a fact you don’t have a game today, considering Luke just sent a snap of him playing Chel with Dawson 10 minutes ago.”

“I’m in the Cape, asshole. One of Ash’s friends is getting married.”

She peeks into the view of the camera and waves after putting in one earring. “Hi Quinn!”

“Oh! Hey Ash. You look beautiful.”

She beams. “Thank you!”

Jack scoffs. “I’m here too.”

Ashley leaves the brothers to catch up as she starts gathering her things and puts on her lip tint before sitting at the edge of the bed since they still have 15 minutes left before they have to head out and she’s mostly all ready to go. She chimes in once in awhile, always happy to talk to Quinn as Jack shrugs on his suit jacket, ties his matching pink tie and clasps on his watch.

“Looking good, you two.” Quinn says as they both stand in front of the phone. “Matching tie, eh? Good move, Jacky.”

“We look good enough to make an ex jealous?”

She just rolls her eyes as Quinn’s eyes lights up, immediately catching on. “Absolutely.”

“Don’t encourage him, Quinn.”

Quinn just laughs and bids them farewell as Jack smooths down his tie. She puts on her jacket and grabs her boots and slips them on. As she’s about to bend down and tie them, Jack ushers her to sit on the bed and kneels down. He does it too quickly for her to dwell too much on how much she loves him, but he probably knows, if him gently rubbing his thumb over her ankle and the kiss on the inside of her knee tell her anything. 

It’s only been a little over a year, but she really does think she could spend the rest of her life with him.

They end up running into Nick in the lobby and even though it’s been…four years since she’s seen him, she corrals him into a tight hug. She introduces Jack and Nick introduces Melanie, his fiancee. The only indication from Nick that he knows who Jack is is a subtle comment that’s delivered in a way that’s so Nick it makes her heart ache — “Jack Hughes. Only Ash would show up after almost five years in the flesh with a professional athlete at a wedding where her ex is gonna be at. Always gotta do some out of pocket shit.” — and makes Jack laugh as she slaps him.

The four of them walk the short seven minute walk to the venue together, with Ashley and Nick mostly leading the conversation. She can’t remember where they left their tentative friendship in their late teens and early twenties when the world was shut down and the future looked the most uncertain it had been. Even though they don’t immediately pick up where they left off, years of rust littered in their interactions and memories, she’s extremely happy to see that he’s doing well. 

(Jack’s just happy to be there, holding his girlfriend’s hand as she leads the conversation. It’s nice not having to lead for once. There’s not many situations where he’s the one tagging along) 

As they enter the ceremony space, Ashley immediately sees plenty of other people she recognizes. She chuckles to herself as she realizes many of the guys are from the soccer team. It’s touching to know they still keep in touch. Logan, one of said guys, greets Nick goodheartedly, before wrangling her into a hug. As pleasantries are exchanged and people are introduced, she does feel a bit out of place. But that’s natural, reconnecting with people after so long that clearly still hang out with each other and only hear about her through sporadic updates through Cam when they ask. 

Sides were chosen, even if not intentionally. Ashley’s learned to be okay with that. Even if she thinks it’s unfair that Alex got to keep a lot of their mutual friends and she didn’t.

As everyone settles down in their seats, she squeezes Jack’s hand, opening her mouth to apologize for…something. Not preparing him in giving the whole lore of how she knows all these people? How the only reason she knows the sport of soccer is so well is because of Alex? Not explaining clearly the mixed feelings of her coming to the Cape this weekend? 

But Jack’s enraptured in a conversation with Logan, and she smiles. Of course. Logan played hockey back in high school as well. 

(Out of instinct, Jack does squeeze her hand back though, even placing them in his lap even though he’s not looking in her direction at all)

When Alex comes into view, a pretty redhead’s hand around the crook of his elbow, Ashley starts sweating. Thank goodness she has deodorant in her bag. Jack, who’s still talking to Logan, notices, and she’s about to apologize for her clammy hands as he sends her a confused look but the nearby exclamations of Alex’s name answers his question. He just presses two kisses to her temple.

Logan, to his credit, grimaces. “You gonna be good, Ash?”

She waves his kindness away. “Of course. It’s been so long. And it’s Cam’s day.”

And it is Cam’s day, as everyone falls silent watching both sets of parents and the groomsmen and bridesmaids walk down — she chuckles when she sees Sean walking down, forgetting that he and Cam got closer in college even after going to the same high school — before grinning as Amanda walks down in her beautiful A-line, ball gown of a wedding dress. Ashley wipes a tear away watching Cam do the same and she thinks if only 16 year old them could see themselves now. 

(She has a moment when she looks at Jack where her stomach flips, thinking of the day they could be the ones at the altar. She quickly focuses her attention back to the front)

Cam and Amanda are pronounced husband and wife and she cheers as he dips her and kisses her, beaming and tearing up and laughing as she hears Nick wolf-whistle. People start dispersing, the large heated patio hosting a cocktail hour before the doors to the reception hall open back up again.

While she’s sipping on a glass of wine, she hears a familiar voice calling her name and she beams, carefully making sure she doesn’t spill any wine on Sean’s tuxedo as he towers over her and hugs her tightly. He introduces himself to Jack and she watches in slight amusement as they talk. 

Sean and her never really were friends, more friends by association. He was more in the popular crowd in the school that Ashley herself was never inclined to push her way through. Her and Sean shared plenty of classes together though, and always got along when forced to work together. And in another life, sometimes Ashley thinks that she would’ve had a crush on the blonde boy. 

Instead, she dated one of his teammates. And, well, that turned out the way it did.

(Ashley rolls her eyes when Sean makes a comment about how it “makes complete sense that you’re the one who ended up dating a professional athlete” because sure, Sean. Sure.)

Jack may be among many Massachusetts natives who live and die for the Bruins and are not hesitant in chirping him within 5 minutes of meeting him, but he smiles genuinely as his hand instinctively finds a way on her lower back. After dating Ashley for over a year, he’s used to the good-intentioned bluntness of New Englanders. She only starts rolling her eyes when high school gets brought up and stories about her start piling up. In contrast, Jack loves this and just eggs them on, eager to hear the stories. 

With a quick glance at the seating chart when they’re all starting to filter back into the reception hall, she finds that the high school crowd is split between two tables, and that Cam kept to his word and put her and Alex at different ones. The tables next to each other, but still. She won’t have to worry about making accidental awkward eye contact with him across her chicken. She’s the slightest bit surprised she hasn’t crossed direct paths with him yet. But there’s enough people that they wouldn’t ever be forced to interact. And maybe that’s for the best. 

Dinner passes by without incident, Ashley squeezing both Cam and Amanda tight as they come around to toast every table as Jack gives Cam a tight bro-hug and Amanda a polite kiss on the cheek. The dance floor starts to open up, and as usual, Ashley’s one of the first ones on, dragging Jack and practically their whole table out. She feels light on her feet and happy as she leans into Jack with a big smile. He ditches his suit jacket at the table and his pink tie is loosened and she thinks he looks so handsome. She’s happily tipsy enough where the curious glances and whispers from probably the entire fucking reception hall about why an NHL player is here don’t bother her. She knows he’s used to it. She doesn’t know how.

(Jack may not know everything of the lore and context behind Ashley’s relationship with the people she knows here, but he knows her and how deeply she feels and nostalgic she can get and how that can change her perception of her own memories and how that in turn, can make her extremely self critical. 

So this whole evening, he’s tried to make it as easy as possible, talking with her old friends and classmates — which isn’t much of an ask, they’re nice enough — and just squeezing her hand or waist or kissing her temple or cheek when he feels her focus trailing off. If she talks to Alex and wants him there, he’ll be right next to her. If not, he’ll make himself scarce. Whatever she wants)

Ashley’s resting at her chair while Jack’s in a casual conversation with Cam as Alex comes up behind Cam, tapping him on the shoulder. She swallows and sits up straight and Jack automatically places a gentle hand on her back. Cam and Alex exchange a few words she can’t hear before Cam turns his attention back to her and Jack feels a surge of gratitude towards Cam, who looks extremely apologetic. 

Jack watches as she stands up and steps towards Alex with a small smile. “Hey.”

Alex blinks. “Hi.” She gives him a quick hug before stepping back next to Jack as he stands up. “Alex, this is Jack, my boyfriend. Jack, Alex.”

“Nice to meet you, man.” Jack says with a firm, polite handshake and he doesn’t really see (or care about) Alex’s reaction before turning back to Ashley again, trying to read her. She gives him an almost imperceptible nod. Jack’s eyes flicker to Cam, who also nods behind Alex and he clears his throat. “I’m gonna get a refill. You two want anything?”

“All good, man.”

“Rum and coke, heavier on the coke?”

“You got it,” Jack presses a quick kiss to her hair before he and Cam walk to the bar. 

Jack waves to the bartender for a whiskey sour for himself as Cam gets a gin and tonic. They both lean against the counter and Jack sighs, watching Alex take Jack’s previous seat. “Was that a good idea? Leaving them alone?” Because he knows her, of course, but Cam’s known her longer. And he had a front row seat to her and Alex’s friendship before they got together, their relationship when they got together, and the fallout of their breakup. 

“Honestly? I don’t know. But they’re both 26 year old mature adults.” Cam’s eyes flit over to a redhead woman a couple seats away from the bar and waves her over. Jack’s trying to remember if he’s met her tonight

“Hi Cam,” she says lightly. 

“Hey yourself,” he nods over in the direction of her and Alex. “You initiate that?”

She snorts, “Of course I did.” She perches herself on a stool and sticks her hand out to Jack. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Francesca, but please call me Fran. I’m Alex’s girlfriend.”

Jack gives her a small smile. This is something. “Jack. Ashley’s boyfriend.”

“I’m aware,” she teases. “I grew up in Jersey and my brother’s a huge hockey fan. I’ve been to a couple of your games throughout the years.”

“Always nice to meet a fan,” He responds smoothly and genuinely. “Especially in a room filled with Bruins fans that could honestly poison my drink at any moment and I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky there are no Rangers fans here.” Cam waves him off as Jack and Fran laugh. 

“What a way to meet someone for the first time,” Fran says.

“While our exes are talking for the first time in over four years?” Jack says and Fran and Cam both snort. “You could say that.”

She turns to Cam, “Cam, you can go off and mingle, you know? It’s your wedding. Jack and I will be fine here.”

Jack opens his mouth to agree but Cam just shakes his head. “It’s fine. I need a second to breathe anyways. And also make sure this doesn’t go downhill.”

“Ashley seems like a smart girl and Alex isn’t that stupid,” Fran says. “They wouldn’t make a fuss at your wedding.”

Cam sighs and Jack thinks about how thankful he is that Cam has been there for his girlfriend way before Jack even knew her. Jack then turns to Fran and asks how she and Alex met and the conversation starts there, all three of them turning to the two exes from time to time to make sure there’s no flames or glasses being thrown. 

Fran talks about how she and Alex met at work and laughs in amusement when Jack explains that it was the same with him and Ashley, talking about how Ashley had been filling in for a colleague for an interview and Jack practically fell in love with her the second he saw her and had to tell himself to not sound stupid in front of the pretty girl. 

And honestly, as Jack talks to Fran, he laughs to himself a bit ironically. She reminds him a bit of Ashley. A bit too much for him personally and harsh in a different way than his girlfriend, but decent company nonetheless. So maybe he and Alex are more alike than they think. 

Meanwhile, the conversation happening merely 20 feet away between two exes is not as casual. Not as comfortable. 

“Been a long time, huh?” Alex remarks. 

Ashley tries not to scoff. “Four years.”

Alex curses under his breath. “Yeah. How are you?”

What a loaded question. She goes along with it. “I’m good.”

“Cam mentioned you’re in New York?”

“I am. Moved out there about a year after college for work. Then went to grad school there.”

“Journalist?”

She shrugs. “More or less. The title’s changed a couple times throughout the years but all in that field.”

“That’s awesome.” He runs a hand through his hair and it looks so familiar yet unfamiliar. “I still remember when you told me you got into BU. Seems like the path was always laid out for you, huh?”

She’ll have to unpack that one later. “Guess so. How about you? I heard you were in Portland. Real estate, right?”

He nods, “Yeah.”

“That’s great. I’m really glad you’re doing well.”

“Thanks.” A moment of silence there. “For what it’s worth, it is really good to see you again.”

Ashley lets out a genuine smile. Small, but genuine. “Same.” 

The sound of his laughter kinda aches a bit, but not in a way that has her sad. Just nostalgic. There is some easy banter, and somewhere in the back of her mind, Ashley’s remembering a bit of why she loved him in the first place. 

There’s a pause in the conversation, before she continues, “I haven’t gotten a chance to meet whoever you’re here with yet, but-”

“Fran.”

“Fran, right.” she says. “But I’ve heard a bit. How long have you two been together?”

“Are we really going to do this?”

She swallows the urge to fire back, shrugging instead. “Why not? And don’t pretend like you’re not curious about Jack either. I figured I might as well just go first.”

Alex laughs. “Around three years for Fran and I.”

“You love her?”

“I do. A lot.”

She smiles. Genuinely this time. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

“How about you and Mr. NHL Superstar?”

Again, she swallows down her instinct to fire back. “A little over a year now.”

“You happy?”

“Very.”

Alex nods once and doesn’t quite smile but has a pleasant expression on his face. “Cam said that he likes him. Which is a lot, considering I’m pretty sure he used to think that he was a cocky asshole.”

Ashley knows it’s not meant in that way because she knows that her boyfriend has somewhat of a reputation, but she gets defensive. “People aren’t always what they seem. Even if he’s a pest on the ice sometimes, he’s a wonderful guy.” You should know, she wants to say. You were the exact same way in high school.

They’re trickling into dangerous territory. She wonders if he’ll take the bait. If he does, she wonders if she’ll be strong enough not to fall for it. She wonders if he’ll apologize, not because she needs it, but because she knows she deserved one all those years ago. 

Alex leans back casually, putting his arm over the empty chair next to him. “From me to Jack fucking Hughes. I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.”

Ashley doesn’t know at all how she’s supposed to take that. Like everything he’s always done, he says it casually, taking a drink of water as she’s figuring out how to respond. She doesn’t. For the first time, she feels like she doesn’t have control of this conversation.

He notices she has no response and keeps going. “Hey, he’s a decent player and the money can’t hurt. I’m glad you’re happy.”

She swallows. A gold digger? Is that really what he’s hinting at?

Ashley almost sighs in relief when she catches sight of Jack, Cam and a woman who she presumes is Fran walking back towards them. Immediately she plasters on a smile and introduces herself to Fran, because it’s not her fault that her boyfriend still has the ability to get under her skin even so many years after their break-up. Jack presses a rum and coke in her hand silently and she thanks him quietly before making small talk with Fran. Just having Jack next to her has her blood pressure lowering. Soon enough, they all but shove Cam back into his own wedding and bid farewell as Fran excuses her and Alex and heads over to chat with someone she doesn’t recognize. 

Jack leads her outside of the main reception hall into one of the hallways, where there are people sporadically chatting and also getting away from the music for a second. 

Jack grabs her drink and faces her with a concerned look. “Ash? You okay? It seemed to get a little…tense at times.”

Ashley shrugs and chuckles. It’s bitter though, and he knows it, immediately placing a grounding hand on her waist. “I was how I always am to everyone.”

“Sure,” he responds skeptically. 

She sighs. “It was fine. I’m fine. It didn’t go badly. I don’t know if it was good. It just…was.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “It was fine. It’s not a big deal. It’s been four fucking years and it’s not like I love him anymore. I shouldn’t-”

“Hey. Stop. None of that,” Jack says softly but firmly, leaning in closer and kissing her forehead as she bites her bottom lip harshly. He holds her hand gently and presses it against his chest. “Open your eyes, baby. Take some breaths with me.”

She obeys, looking into blue eyes that have become another home for her and taking deep breaths. “Thanks.”

“Always. Wanna talk about it?”

She debates in her mind. “No. It’s a wedding. Let’s go back and have fun and dance.”

“You sure?”

She nods, before placing a peck on his lips. “I’ll probably be more in my feelings tomorrow about it. Or the next week. But for now, come dance with me.”

“Lead the way.”

Ashley doesn’t even look at Alex’s direction for the rest of the night, instead looking at Jack when she feels like the floor beneath her is gonna get pulled away. The stupidly romantic thing is, she knows he’ll catch her everytime.

three - one year and nine months

“What do you think?”

Jack looks up from where he’s sitting on her bed and his eyes pop open, jaw dropping with it. He tosses his phone to the side. “Ash. Holy shit.”

Ashley twirls around in the yellow ruffle dress. “I like this one the most, but I don’t think it’s fancy enough.”

She looks up to see him biting his lip, eyes scanning her body. She blushes as he beckons her to stand inbetween his legs. “Don’t care. You have to wear this one, please. It fits you perfectly.”

She smoothes down the ruffles. “Are you sure it’s fancy enough?”

“Honey, most of the guys probably won’t even be wearing ties,” she settles her hands in his hair. “Wear this one. I know you love it and you look beautiful in it.”

She lets out a breath. “Okay, yeah. I can pair it with those flower earrings and matching bracelet and I think Scarlett has white heels I could borrow and-”

“Woah there,” he chuckles, rubbing his thumbs on the fabric at her hips. “Did you have too much coffee today? You’re talking a million miles a minute.”

“No,” she drawls out. “I’m just…nervous? This is the first thing we’re going to that’s so…”

“Public?” He finishes for her. She nods. He pushes her gently so that she’s sitting next to him. “I get that. I’m a bit nervous too. But I’ll be there the whole time. And you’ll have my parents and Quinn. And Nico will be there too. Besides, you’re great with people. I’ve seen you in action.”

She shrugs modestly. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what is it you’re worried about?”

She swallows at his tone, because she doesn’t think he gets it. Why would he? He’s not the one that’s going to be scrutinized by his fans. At least not to the degree she would be. “Everyone else’s thoughts.”

Jack nods slowly in realization. He leans in to kiss her lips twice. She has to admit it makes her feel a bit better. His kisses usually do. “You know no one else’s opinions mean anything. Besides, it’s very clear to anyone that I’m happily taken.”

And he has a point. She’s made an appearance on his Instagram with two photos in his annual summer dump — one was just of her in the city and the other was of the two of them by the lake in Michigan — and he hadn’t tagged her, but it was clearly a message to the world that he wasn’t a single man. Social media doesn’t matter and it never will, but it had been a decision they both had come to, Jack approaching her gently and asking if he could post them. 

But having it through a screen and having it in real life is different. 

“I know it’s stupid,” she says. “But you know me. I don’t particularly enjoy being out of my element.”

“I know, I know,” he bumps her knee with his. “It’ll be fun though. We’ll get drunk the night before and maybe I’ll be hungover the next morning and you get to tell Luke if I do anything embarrassing.”

Ashley laughs. “That does sound fun.”

“Exactly.” He cups her face in his hands. “I gotcha, baby. Always.”

She trusts in that when she lands in Boston a few days later. She trusts in that as she gets swept in a world she’s not quite comfortable in, but finds there are a lot more similarities than differences compared to environments she’s been in. She’s a journalist after all. It’s her job in a way to blend into different lives in order to get the best and most impactful stories. She trusts in that as she’s rolling her eyes fondly at Jack, who’s chatting with practically everyone at the bar. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen this many hockey players in one room. She trusts in that as Jack then always drags whoever he’s talking to so that he can introduce her. 

For someone who has always valued their privacy, Jack is making it pretty obvious that the “stunning girl in the floral shirt” is his. Ashley can’t say she hates it, even if it’s a little bold for her particular taste. 

“He looks happy, doesn’t he?” Ellen asks as they both watch Jack across the room with Auston Matthews. Ashley’s cousins in Toronto would be freaking out right now. 

Ashley snickers. “Drunk or happy?”

“Both?” Ellen raises her glass up to knock it against Ashley’s in a toast.

“I’ll drink to that.” 

“Thank you for coming. I know it means a lot to Jack that you’re here.”

“Thank you all for having me,” Ashley responds, suddenly a bit shy. “It’s, been, uh, a bit overwhelming, to be honest.”

“I can imagine,” Ellen smiles sympathetically. “All this hockey stuff, business wise, is more Jimmy’s scene than mine.”

“Really?” Ashley thinks to all that Jack’s told her about his mother and all the warmth Ellen has emitted since they’ve met, not to mention how everyone they’ve talked to — player, coach, agent — has gravitated towards Ellen.

To her credit, Ellen chuckles. “That’s fair. Jack tells me that you know how to work a room, which is something that Jimmy’s always said about me.”

Ashley traces the rim of her glass. “I think Jack gives me too much credit.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Ellen says with a knowing smile. “I read your article the other day. The one about the family who’s had to travel across the country to get care for their child. Quinn sent it to me, actually.” Quinn read it? She doesn’t remember sending it to him. Did Jack send it to him? “It’s an incredible piece of work. How long did that take you?”

“From start to finish? Around two months.”

Ellen grins, placing a motherly hand on her shoulder. “You’re so talented, honey. I try to keep up with everything you write, but you do so much that sometimes I lose track.”

"You really don’t have to do that. But thank you, Ellen. T-that means a lot to me.” 

“What does Mom not have to do?” Jack asks, squeezing himself next to his girlfriend.

“Read my articles.”

Jack grins. “Why not? They’re so good. Our family group chat is filled with them. Dad always loves your profiles.”

Ashley swallows. She’s pretty confident that the Hughes family likes her, but the fact that they all keep track of her published articles is a bit too much for her to handle right now. She downs the rest of her beer and waves Jack away when he opens his mouth to ask if she wants his. Instead, he asks the bartender for a ginger ale. Ashley’s grateful. 

The next day, Ashley smiles as Jack’s walking the carpet. He’s up for the Hart trophy this year and as he squats down to greet a little boy and sign his jersey, Ashley can’t help but let her love and pride for him soar. She’s as out of the way as she can be, trying not to get overwhelmed with all the voices and flashes around her. It helps that Ellen and Jim seem to always be nearby and she makes fast friends with Nina and Luca, who are watching Nico do similar things. 

She gets pulled out of her own world with a familiar hand on her waist. “Hey,” Jack murmurs into her ear. 

“Hi.”

“Do you wanna jump into a few pictures with me?” Jack asks softly. “It’ll only take a few minutes. No pressure if not.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

He beams, offering an arm as he leads them over to where the photographers are. She tries not to blink too much as the flashes hurt her eyes and hopes she and Jack are looking in the same direction. 

“You look beautiful,” he pairs his sincere compliment with a squeeze of her waist. 

She smiles at the cameras for a few seconds before turning to him slightly. “You already said that.”

“I know. It’s worth repeating.”

Thankfully, it’s only about 30 seconds before everyone else — Quinn, Jack’s parents and Nico’s family — are being ushered in for a group photo. She finds herself inbetween Jack and Nico and giggles as Nico tries to blow his hair out of his face. She takes pity on him after a few tries and she reaches up to fix it for him quickly, Nina laughing on the other side of her brother. 

“Stop messing with it,” Ashley scolds lightly through clenched teeth, smiling for the pictures. “You’re gonna make it worse.” She giggles when Nico pokes her side a few seconds later. 

When Jack wins the Hart, Ashley leaps out of her seat in excitement. To her, he’s always going to be the best player she knows because she sees firsthand how hard he works, but it’s nice that his peers are recognizing it too. He places a quick kiss on her lips before going up on stage and Ashley’s clapping and laughing to herself. He was dreading having to make any sort of speech. 

After the ceremony, she just follows everyone to whatever swanky rooftop seemingly the entire NHL is gathering at. She finds herself flocking towards Nina for a lot of the evening as they both exchange fun stories and memories of their own lives over drinks. Ashley thinks she could keep talking to Nina for the rest of her life. She’s just so damn cool. 

The next day, she drags Jack around the BU campus and is happy pointing out buildings that she had classes in, cried in, cheered in and lived her life in. They walk from one end of Com Ave to the other, Ashley dutifully pointing out Agganis Arena (“I’m sure Trevor has some good memories in this building”), their starting point.

She stands in front of the College of Communication building and stops. Jack dutifully stops next to her. “This building kinda looks like shit.”

Ashley snorts. “Yeah, I know. Especially compared to all the science buildings.” She bites her lip. “It all started here.”

“What did?”

“The dream.”

And yeah, maybe that’s a bit dramatic. But Jack said similar things when he brought her to Toronto earlier this year, so she knows he understands. 

Almost two years together now, she’s convinced that no one will really ever understand her like Jack does. 

He nudges her hip with his, the breeze blowing comfortably through her hair and rustling the plants around them. They watch as a student walks through the front doors. “Wanna go in?” 

She shakes her head. “Nah, I’m good.” She tugs at his hand while sipping the lavender lemonade from Pavement in the other. “Come on. I’ll show you Bay State. I lived there my junior year after I came back from studying abroad in Dublin.”

Bay State Road is beautiful as always in the Boston summer, Ashley’s hand in Jack’s. She drags him out into the middle of the road and only squeals once when a car is coming and he pulls her to the sidewalk. 

Campus isn’t the same when classes aren’t in session, but she hopes Jack can still feel some of the magic in the air through her stories. 

“It suits you.”

She turns to Jack. “Hm?”

“This city. It suits you.”

“Oh,” she blushes for some reason. “Thanks.”

“Do you miss it here?”

“All the time,” Ashley admits. “New York is great, but Boston will always be home.”

“Would you think of working here? If given the option?” Jack asks. 

“Maybe,” Ashley squeezes Jack’s hand, “But I also have reasons to stay in New York.”

He smirks, but it quickly transitions into something gentler. “Yeah?”

She could throw something snarky back at him, but she looks around the brownstones and lets out a deep breath. This is home, but flashes of Hoboken and East Village flicker in her mind and that’s also home. 

She looks at Jack and feels overwhelmed. Oh. It’s Boston. It’s Hoboken. It’s East Village. It’s him. Jack is home.

four - two years

“Big day, huh?” 

Ashley just smiles at Carissa, nudging her side. “We’ve come a long way since that phone call at 2 a.m.”

Carissa just snorts. “That phone call got us here.”

“True,” Ashley squeezes her arm as they make their way to their assigned table. “Love you, girly.”

“Love you more. I’m proud of us.”

Ashley grins, looking around as everyone is mingling amongst each other. There are past award winners here and Ashley’s already done some of her internal fangirling, especially when Lynsey Addario came up to her and wanted to talk to her. 

She’s still decently new in this industry and knows she has so much to learn, but it’s comforting to see that all of her hard work has paid off. 

People are starting to take their seats and Ashley looks around at her colleagues. Everyone’s dressed up and looks so lovely and Ashley smiles, looking down at her midnight blue dress. When Jack had seen her walk out of the changing room in it a few weeks ago, his eyes had popped out. 

(“Fuck,” he had said. “Now I’m even more pissed I can’t make it to the dinner.”)

And yeah, it would be nice if he was here. But the Devils are playing the Islanders tonight. It sucks that he’s so close but so far away, but after two years now, it’s just part of the gig. And they make it work. So Ashley isn’t too upset about it, even if Jack is. 

She’s a bit confused when there is an empty seat next to her, as it seems like the ballroom is filled. There’s no nametag there either, but her attention soon drifts off to the front. She has to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling too hard. 

The Pulitzer Prize Awards Ceremony at Columbia University, also her alma mater in a way. Her 18-year-old-self who was sitting in the front row of Introduction to Journalism in Boston could’ve only dreamed about this day. 

Opening remarks start and Ashley really does try to listen, but her eyes glaze over as her mind drifts off. She claps as the first few awards are being presented. She thinks about all the hours that it took to get this piece down, but also all the hours before — in her classes, at her college paper, in her internships, during her job search. The times she wanted to throw in the towel and just do something else. Anything else.  

“I didn’t miss too much, did I?” She blinks, turning to the voice next to her. She freezes. 

“Jack?” She breathes out. She hasn’t been sleeping much this week, so this could very well be a hallucination. 

He beams and she reaches to place her hand on his cheek and she realizes as she scans her eyes up and down.  Oh. He’s in her favorite suit of his. And he’s here. 

“Oh my god,” she wraps her arms around his neck as her whole table cheers. Thankfully, there’s a lull in the ceremony where the whole room is blanketed in a low buzz. “What the f-don’t you have a game?”

“Technically,” Jack says, nodding at her coworkers with a charming smile. “Took a personal day.”

“What? You can do that?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, like he didn’t just skip a game to be here. He rubs his thumb on her shoulder as he kisses her temple. “This is a huge deal, baby. I wasn’t gonna miss it. I’m so proud of you.”

“Lindy’s not mad? Nico’s not mad?”

Jack snorts. “The second you won, I told Lindy to count me out for the game so he can do what he wants with that. Nico’s lowkey pissed he also can’t be here.” He turns to Carissa on the other side and beams. “Hey Care. Congrats.”

“Thanks, Jack,” Carissa beams. “Surprised you pulled this off.”

“Surprised we pulled this off.”

Ashley looks at Carissa. “You knew about this?”

“Of course. Who do you think made sure he would have a seat?”

She looks between her colleague and her boyfriend. Something creeps up her throat that feels a lot like love. 

When her and Carissa are recognized and they have to go up to accept the award and give a short speech, it’s kinda a blur. All she remembers is Jack’s kiss on her cheek and receiving a standing ovation as she and Carissa walk up together. So many hours with her eyes glazed over glaring at the laptop. So many hours interviewing with people and reconfirming facts. So many hours dedicated to this one piece. 

She wouldn’t have it any other way. 

As Carissa is speaking, she locks eyes with Jack. He’s beaming and his eyes are actually sparkling. His hair tousled and he’s so handsome and he’s hers. 

(She almost trips walking back to him) 

He chuckles, pulling her into another tight hug. “You’re amazing, baby. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” she chokes out. “Thank you for calming me down all the times I was freaking out.”

“Of course. I’m sure all those glasses of cold water helped,” he jokes. She always said the ice cold water he would place next to her laptop would wake up her brain. 

She laughs into his shoulder. “They did.”

He pulls away and just stares at her, smile still on his face. Their attention is taken away by someone who wants to congratulate Ashley and has no recognition on their face when looking at Jack. 

(Jack looks on with pride)

plus one - three years and four months

Stanley Cups are interesting. Even some of the best athletes of all time have never gotten one. And some that are only slightly above average perhaps were just placed on the right team in the right season. 

But this Stanley Cup, in Ashley’s completely unbiased opinion, this one was fully deserved. By every single person on the team. 

She doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the absolute joy in Nico’s eyes as he lifted the cup in the air to a roaring crowd at The Rock, or how long the hug between Jack and Luke was when the final whistle sounded, or seeing Ellen cry as her two sons beckoned her in for a picture with the cup, her other son and husband standing close by with pride in their eyes. 

The picture of her and Jack by the cup as he’s kissing her cheek as she smiles so widely her eyes are shut might be her favorite picture of them of all time. 

Ashley had wondered if Jack was going to bring the cup to Toronto or Michigan. He ended up bringing it to Toronto while Luke brought it to Michigan. It ended up being all the same, since they were both present at both. 

Jack winning the Cup is obviously a huge celebration. But he’s not the only one with something to celebrate.

Yesterday, when they were out to lunch with some of his extended family, Ashley had found out by phone that she was just promoted to be a director of her team. After her phone call, she had just covered her mouth in shock as she sat down on a nearby bench. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when a concerned Jack came up to her and asked what was wrong, before she told him and he smothered her face in kisses. 

The parade around his pseudo-hometown is absolutely insane. Ashley doesn’t even know how she has a voice by mid-afternoon, much less how Jack has one considering that he’s been yelling all day. At some point, she forces him to sit down and chug a giant water bottle. 

But she can’t overthink too hard. Her phone’s filled with pictures of Jack with his loved ones and she just feels proud. 

Some of Jack’s extended family who still live in the area offered their home to host a party that night with just friends and family. Ashley did all she could to help prepare, which included coming over to decorate the night before and parking herself in the kitchen the second they got there to offer a helping hand. Well, she tried, before every single person pushed her away and insisted she go join the celebrations. 

She finds herself in a long, in-depth conversation with one of Jack’s younger cousins who’s thinking about working in media when she notices it suddenly becomes quiet. Suddenly, the light flickers off and Ashley is confused.

Jack then walks in with a circular cake with candles lit paired with his beautiful smile. Ashley blinks in confusion as everyone’s eyes fall on her and before she can ask what the hell is going on, Luke bounds over to her and swings an arm around her shoulder, shaking her. 

“Congrats on your promotion, Ash!” Luke exclaims. 

Her mouth drops open and she looks around as everyone in the room cheers and shouts out their congratulations. She chuckles in shock as Jack walks closer. And then suddenly, all she can focus on is him. 

“What are you doing?” She whispers, suddenly wanting to cry. 

“Come on,” he says with the softest smile. “You didn’t think I’d just keep the news to myself, did you?”

“But this is your day,” she chokes out. 

“My day. Your day. It’s all the same, eh?” Jack nods at the candles. “Hurry up. My arms are getting tired.”

A watery laugh from her before she blows out the candles at everyone’s cheers. Jack places the cake on a nearby table before smothering her in a tight hug. Ashley’s heart could burst right now at the love she feels from the people in the room and the person in her arms. She gets a chance to really look at the cake, which is white and sage with “Congratulations Jack and Ashley!” in beautiful script at the center. The lights turn back on and Quinn’s the first one who comes up to hug her. As Ellen is giving Ashley a kiss on the cheek, she sees Jack over Ellen’s shoulder, smiling at her. 

She swallows as she pulls away, before glancing at the ring on her left finger. Ashley’s never let herself want much in her life. But if someone asked her what she wants with her life, she would just place them in this room. Right here. Right now. 

(They cut the cake together. Ashley feels a buzzing joy throughout her bones)

[seeingivy]

style

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

previous part linked here

an: this is 10k. I decided to leave the what am I to you scene for the next chapter bc of it...apologies....also I jsut wanted to post it bc I promised this at the beginning of the week and yday and now its been a long time coming

songs mentioned: style by taylor swift and glimpse of us by joji (minor mention of peace by taylor swift too)

--

--

“Wait, so. I don’t get it. You’re basically…acting like a couple on purpose?” Zeke asks. 

Eren spares a weary glance to his parents, matching apprehensive looks in their eyes, as he slides the salt and pepper shakers towards Zeke. 

Leave it to him to bring up the elephant in the room. 

One mention of attending an award show or a red-carpet event had the three of them dropping everything to come to New York at the drop of the hat. Especially when Scott Clarkson was going to be attending. 

Levi was more than happy to oblige them at the hotel they were all staying at, much to Eren’s dismay, which left him in his current predicament. 

That unlike his friends, who were secretly letting him indulge in something he probably shouldn’t and turning a blind eye, the three of them were never going to let it go. 

Eren knew that part of what he was doing was wrong. That he was walking a very fragile line and that their concerns, in some sense, were very valid. 

He had promised you a show. The problem was that it wasn’t just a show for him. It wasn’t even the slightest bit difficult for him to give the public exactly what they wanted to see – to go above and beyond to prove that the two of you were better than ever. 

He wanted that deeply – for it to be true. Fervently, desperately. It wasn’t hard to pretend when Eren had spent a majority of his life thinking about you, about what this would be like, anyways. 

It started out simple. Eren offered to accompany you on your first walk out in public that morning – after watching you stare at the people through the window the entire morning. There was a big crowd lingering outdoors, supplied by rumors that the group of them were staying in the hotel, and he was positive that some part of it was making you feel green. 

That and the fact that as much as you could front, some part of this had to be some level of nerve wracking to you. You had put on a brave face very well, but Eren’s deep rooted fear is that this’ll just send you deeper into that cave you retreated into last time – and that you’ll leave him waiting outside again. 

So he offered to do your first paparazzi walk with you. Cited that it would have been the perfect thing to build up more publicity, give them a greater chance of stealing the morning headlines about how today was Hyla’s birthday and the buzz around what she was going to wear tonight. 

It gave him an excuse to make sure you didn’t run off this time – that he’d be able to catch you if something happened. 

Except Eren took it too far. He had given you the permission to pump the brakes whenever you felt like it was too much and the fact that you almost never did made it impossible for him to stop. So he pulled you close whenever the paparazzi were near, brushing his nose against yours as the two of you smiled sunshine into each other’s faces. 

It was a disaster waiting to happen. Though from Eren’s expert point of view, he couldn’t fall any more than he already had. 

The problem would come later – when it would just become another memory that he cherished, had to relive after he was finally denied the promise of your company and friendship for good. 

When the show ended in two months and when you would have no reason to talk to each other again. 

Eren shakes the thought from his head as he looks back up at them. 

“Yeah. But trust me, it’s actually working. The record label dropped Ricky James and now that Y/N promised them her new album, they’re going to sever ties all together.” Eren states. 

“I just don’t see what that has to do with pretending to date. You know, especially when you’re still in love with the girl.” Carla states. 

“It’s sadistic. Even for you.” Zeke states. 

Eren shoves him in the side. With his parents' eyes averted, he takes the chance to knee Zeke this time to catch his attention. 

Could you just back me up? Eren mouths. 

Zeke rolls his eyes, before quietly mouthing his response back. 

Okay, fine! Just relax. 

Eren turns back to the two of them, mustering his best smile. And hoped that deep down, that fleeting flare of hope that’s been burning in his chest won’t go to waste this time – that there are real grounds behind actually bringing Scott Clarkson down. 

“There’s a certain publicity that you can’t buy with people who have…such a drama filled history like us. We’re aiming for a solidified deal with Ethan Cole by the end of the Met Gala.” Eren states. 

He flinches when his dad drops the fork against the ceramic of the plate. 

“Ethan Cole? Are you crazy, Eren? He’s never going to agree to a deal with you guys.” 

“Maybe a little. But I think that we could do it. I spent years being played by idiots like Scott Clarkson – it’s not hard to tell that’s how he keeps people around. And…we have an idea of exactly how to do it.” Eren states. 

“I don’t know, Eren. I don’t exactly like this idea. I wouldn’t exactly put your hopes on this.” Carla murmurs. 

Eren gives her a smile, reaching to tangle his ankle with hers under the table. 

He gets it. Deep down, he does. Because the last time Eren did this – with the court case and Connie and Lana at his side – Eren was downtrodden when Scott Clarkson’s life virtually stayed the same. Almost everyone knew, or had some semblance of an idea, that Eren had sued him, that Scott had terribly wronged him. 

He had gone through the lengths of an entire court case, just for it to amount to nothing. 

He still had his career. He still had the movies, a beloved producing company, and the godawful tabloids that ruined Eren’s life. People continued to work with him despite everything that had happened. 

“I won’t be like last time. It…it almost feels better this time around. I have everyone around me and I don’t feel alone, so.” Eren adds. 

“Well, you weren’t exactly alone the last time.” Carla states. 

“You know what he meant. It’s different.” Grisha murmurs.” 

“I do think she can do it. These people only care about what makes them money or…or moves their business forward. No one can do that for them like her. And even besides that, she’s really earnest in the way she moves. I feel like people could even become more aware of this type of thing if she spoke out about it.” Eren finishes. 

Eren looks over, looking to his mom’s brown eyes hoping for her approval. He doesn’t exactly find it, but there’s a nod. He understands it all the same – that he’s the one who gets to make the calls here, regardless. 

“Oh, let’s all relax! If Eren wants to kiss her and run around doing god knows what, that’s his business! He’s a grown man.” Zeke adds, sliding one hand around his shoulder and using his free one to pinch his cheek. 

Eren seethes, stomping hard on his foot under the table. 

“I don’t kiss her.” Eren defends. 

“Not yet, you don’t. That’s for next month, right?” Zeke responds, with a wink. 

Is this what Zeke thought backing him up was? 

Eren can feel his cheeks burn. Leave for the empty spots in the script – that Levi had stated he had some special plan for – the last part of the show was almost finished. And much to Eren’s dismay, Hange and Levi overrode his opinion in the writers room and included a kiss in the script. 

He’s just hoping for his own sake that they end up cutting it before the day comes like they did the first time. There were only so many things that he could stomach. 

“That’s filming, Zeke. That’s different.” 

Zeke rolls his eyes. 

“Right.” 

Eren’s thrown out of the loop when the door swings open, with Connie and Mikasa barging in with you at their heels. The three of you look particularly disheveled – sopping wet from the rain outside, giggly smiles on your faces – as Connie and Mikasa shake their hands at the group of them. 

“We ran out of toothpaste over there, Eren. We’re just gonna take some.” Mikasa states. 

“You needed three people to get one tube of toothpaste?” Eren asks. 

“Well, I was going to come. Then, Connie decided he wanted to accompany me. And then Y/N realized we were going to get it from your room, then decided to come.” Mikasa responds, dragging Connie off to the little bathroom at the side. 

Eren lifts his head to find you standing at the door, with…an almost awkward look on your face. The big smile that he saw seconds ago was virtually gone. 

“You know what! I think Falco’s actually calling me…so I’m just going to…” 

“You should sit. Eat breakfast with us.” Carla states, gesturing to the empty seat at her side. 

That’s when Eren realizes it – and it sends an overwhelming amount of relief through him. That you didn’t feel awkward around him but around his family instead. 

Eren racks his mind trying to remember it – when you were with them last. And if his memory isn’t deceiving him, it was the last Thanksgiving that you guys were together, a snowy November years ago. 

And he gets it, the immediate nervousness. God knows he felt the same way around Falco and Colt when they arrived – after Levi hadn’t listened to his advice to not cast the two of them in the show. Just to spare him some torture. 

Levi, obviously, refused to listen. 

You always had your guard up around Zeke and if he knew you half as well as he thought he did, he knows for a fact that you must feel embarrassed to show your face around his parents now after everything that happened. 

“Mom, it’s okay. You can go see if Falco’s good, Y/N.” Eren affirms. 

Eren watches as your eyes meet his, slightly faltering before you shake your head and drag yourself to the table. From his peripheral, he can see that Zeke’s already too delighted for his own good as Zeke quickly offers you the seat at Eren’s side and sits directly across from the two of you. 

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Jaeger. I appreciate it.” you respond, smoothing the little cloth over your lap as you knit your fingers into knots. 

Eren busies himself with filling your plate, carefully sectioning small amounts of each dish, before he puts his hand in between yours. You welcome the touch, linking your fingers in with Eren’s under the table, as you shoot them all a smile. And Zeke’s godawful delighted smile back almost makes you sweat. 

“Eren. You should go check on Falco, since he was calling Y/N.” Carla states. 

“Huh? Oh, I-I’m sure he’s fine. Colt’s here and Gabi too, you know.” you mumble. 

There’s no way you’re sitting alone with his family. 

“I think Eren should check on him. That way, it won’t be in the back of your head while we talk.” Carla responds. 

Eren shoots you a questioning look at your side, as you release his hand, and give him a nod. You can tell that he’s hesitating, his movements painstakingly slow as he exits the room and closes the door behind him, leaving you with the three of them. 

“I apologize for that. He wasn’t going to leave unless you gave your approval.” Carla murmurs, as the three of them relax with his presence missing. 

Zeke takes the opportunity to take the seat at your side, filling the empty space Eren left. He leans closer, voice quiet as he whispers and nearly makes your heart drop in your chest. 

“Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to hold your hand under the table like he did.” 

You fight the urge to spit the water in your mouth straight into the glass – but swallow the shock and battery acid sensation down as you spare the two of them a glance ahead of you. 

There’s a twinge of regret – that at one point, you used to be like their chosen family and now it feels like you’ve allocated a lifetime of hurt to their son. 

“I want to start by apologizing.” you state. 

The two of them look up at you confused. 

“For?” Grisha asks. 

“Everything I did to Eren. I…I care for your son an awful lot, though it may not seem like that at times. And I hope that you know that even causing the smallest bit of pain is something that I have to carry with me everyday. Something I’ll spend a lifetime trying to rectify.” you state. 

Carla sighs, setting her fork down in her plate and crossing her arms against her forearms. You can tell that Zeke’s priming some sort of response against her just from the almost enraged look in his face and you make it a point to spare him a warning glance not to. 

Whatever wrath she had prepared for you was what you deserved. And just like Eren and Mikasa, you’d spend your entire life fixing it till it was better with her too. 

“I’m not going to pretend to understand what it was that happened between you and Eren. I can read news articles and watch interviews and documentaries but…it doesn’t exactly make sense to me. I can admit that. I don’t know why you broke up with him and…and I surely don’t know why Eren thought it was okay to say everything that he did to you.” 

“Oh. That’s nothing, really-” 

“I don’t understand how you guys can make these big, love confessions without even confronting each other in the first place. Because…you’re not together, right?” Carla asks. 

You bite down on your cheek. 

“That’s right. It’s just for the paparazzi, trying to build up the hype around-” 

“No, I get that part. But the interview, the documentary. You guys did that for each other, on some level. So I’ll ask again. You’re really not together?” Carla asks. 

You sigh. 

“No. I’m sorry. I…I haven’t thought much about that because I want everything settled before I even consider it. Being careless ruined everything last time…and I can’t afford to do that again. I want to be careful with his feelings this time around.” you state. 

Carla pauses, before standing up and joining you at your side. And you’re caught completely off guard when she wraps her arms around you, pulling you up until you’re nestled in her arms and she’s rubbing at the sides of your biceps. 

You forgot – she used to do this to you all the time.

“You…you’re a good girl. We’ve always loved you, always loved how Eren was around you, but…just be careful with our son, okay? I don’t want him to be hurt again and he’s sensitive, if that much wasn’t obvious at this point.” 

“I appreciate that. Really, I…I don’t think you guys understand what it means to me. And I won’t, I’m making my sincerest promise that I’ll try not to. He’s….he means the world to me. He’s been my best friend as long as I can remember and…no one is going to be who Eren is to me.” 

And for the first time, the two of them spare you a glimmering smile. 

“He feels the same way.” Grisha states. 

You sigh, offering the two of them a smile. And right on cue, Eren barges right through the door, the worry on his face melting as the two of you offer him a smile. You can tell that he’s a little confused – as he settles back into his seat and gives a questioning look to Zeke. 

The two of them return to eating, as you dig your own fork into the food and push it around. That’s when Zeke slides his arm around the back of your chair, leaning forward as he gives you a smirk. 

You can’t help but feel annoyed. Not in the genuine, hatred way, but in the same way you did when Colt used to tease you when you were a kid. 

“So…family that I chose now that I see your brother as my brother? That is about me, right?” 

You roll your eyes, sparing him a laugh, as you elbow him in the side. 

“I’m so sorry to break your heart here, Zeke, but that line in peace was about Eren and Falco. Not about you and me.” you state.

“Yeah, dumbass. She doesn’t even like you.” Eren mutters. 

Zeke feigns hurt as he clutches his right hand to his chest and groans. You watch as Grisha rolls his eyes in front of you and Carla fights the urge to smile at his theatrics. 

“You’re a bitch.” 

“Language, Zeke! God.” the two of them cry, rolling their eyes at Zeke. Eren rolls his eyes as he stands up, stacking all the plates and placing them at the island as you turn back to look at the group of them. 

You shake your head, laughing, as you thank your lucky stars at how comfortable it is, that you’ve floated right back into the ease that you always seemed to be in when you were around them. And Zeke too, for the first time. 

Zeke spares you a genuine smile this time, as he gets closer to you. 

“I think that you and I could be really good friends. We both love Eren and…and maybe we haven’t always done right by him but…” 

You can tell that he’s getting tripped up by the words, that the sentiment that’s underlying is something the two of you have never really shared before. A closeness that brings you together. Because for you, Zeke was always something you needed to protect Eren from and for him, you were positive now, knowing what you did now, that maybe Zeke felt robbed of some part of that. 

Getting to meet his little brother’s first girlfriend. Tease him about it, give him some brotherly advice – the way Colt did with you. That maybe he wanted the relationship that Eren and Falco had with each other with you, if things were different. 

“Yeah. But…we’re going to do right by him this time. We’ll make sure of it.” you whisper back, averting your eyes to where he’s standing. 

Zeke breaks out into a smile, extending his closed fist out to you as you push your own against his. 

“One thing?” Zeke states. 

“What’s that?” 

Zeke has a nearly murderous glint in his eye when he says it. And it fills you up with a searing feeling of warmth. 

“You give that asshole Scott Clarkson hell. For all of our sake.” 

You give him a smile back. 

“That’s a promise, Zeke.” 

--

Eren can feel himself sweating on the opposite side of the red carpet. The stickiness of the hairspray is sitting heavy in his hair, the collar digging into his neck, and palms embarrassingly sweaty as he stares at the group of people around him. 

Lana and Sukuna are fussing over fixing Connie’s outfit, Jean and Mikasa are taking shots at his side, and you can tell that Suguru Getou is truly cutting his losses at this point. 

Satoru’s wearing an outfit with literal, raw meat on it. 

“It’s camp!” Satoru whines. 

“That was the theme last year, dumbass. And it’s not camp, you’re just a nuisance.” Megumi grumbles, pinching his nose as he joins Eren at his side. 

Eren gives him a nod in acknowledgement, as he watches Yuuji at Satoru’s side, snapping excited pictures of Satoru’s meat hat and pokes his fingers into the red flesh. 

“Can you believe you’re dating that guy?” Eren asks. 

“Everyday I question my sanity.” Megumi mumbles. 

“Could be worse. You could be married to Satoru.” 

“Don’t remind me.” Suguru groans at his side, the two of them sparing a laugh. 

Megumi chooses to keep the comment to himself. He swallows, pointing out that you had said the same thing to the pair of them when Satoru dressed up like that godawful cat years prior. Megumi figures that he’ll keep this thread of your invisible string to himself, for the time being – that it might not exactly be productive for right now. 

Eren catches Levi’s head shifting towards him in the peripheral, as he looks over and tries to follow Levi’s line of vision. And feels his throat constrict as Ricky and Hyla walk past, the two of them sparing him and Lana a sickly sweet smile, and take their spots at the end of the line. 

Eren notes that despite the fact that you had side-swept all of her designers to work with you, naturally she still put together an outfit. He was hoping that it would be worse than it actually ended up being. Though he supposed the birthday girl would always get what she wanted in the end. 

“I’m ready to wipe that smug smile off of their fucking faces and I’m so serious.” 

Eren nearly jumps as he realizes you’re now standing at his side, your eye nearly twitching as you watch the two of them. But all he can feel now is his own throat itching, Ricky and Hyla the least of his problems as his skin ignites at the sight of you so close to him. Your flowery perfume is invading his senses, as he fights the urge to ogle your dress full on. 

“Y/N.” he whispers. 

“Do I look stupid? The underslip they had for the dress didn’t fit me because Hyla’s so much taller that they just…told me to wear this matching set. I feel like I’m going to be flashing everyone.” you mumble. 

“Better for you. You look fucking hot. And apparently, Hyla stole her dress from a piece that was already in the museum. I’m sure she’ll ruin it by the end of the night.” Lana states, as Sukuna joins her at the side and links his arm through hers. 

The two of them have matching stitching on their outfits, wedding rings sparkling on their fingers. Eren clears his throat, your eyes expectant as you wait for a response, and his head nearly spinning from the overstimulation. 

“She’s right. You’re beautiful.” 

“You can say she's hot, Eren. It won’t kill you.” Sukuna complains. 

Eren watches as your eyes widen, a soft pink blush running up your neck, as you avert your eyes. And Sukuna, naturally, ruins the moment by making gagging noises only to get smacked by Lana after the fact. 

The two of them shuffle off, giving you a thumbs up behind their backs, as you turn to each other. Eren links his hands in with yours, giving you three squeezes, as he looks down at the dark makeup smeared around your eyes, making your eyes appear even bigger and brighter. 

Eren gestures his head to the left, snaking his hand around your bare skin in the dress, and lines up directly behind Ricky and Hyla. And the two of you wait for them to walk out and follow directly after. 

It goes exactly how it thought you would. You haven’t walked a red carpet since the last awards show – and from what Eren told you – it had been years since he had too. 

It was simple. 

Seeing Hyla and Ricky at a carpet together was almost a given, almost too predictable. It would hardly spare a headline in comparison to you two – together. Years after the fact, with Eren’s documentary behind you. 

The clicking and the flashing immediately throws you off your guard, coupled with the screaming of your name, that you almost fall off the stiletto of your heels. But Eren’s quick with it, hands looped around your waist as he held you up against him. 

“Thanks. I-” 

“Don’t look at them. Just look at me.” Eren whispers, voice almost gravelly. 

“What?” 

“It’s better that way. Just act like you’re above them. Like you and I are the only people in the room.” Eren murmurs. 

You give him a nod, catching his drift as you follow his lead. And it almost works too well – easing your red carpet nerves when you literally don’t have to acknowledge them and just have to hold hands with Eren all the way down the carpet. 

Eren stops dead center, right before the steps, as you spare a glance over your shoulder. The group of them are following – Satoru’s raw meat causing a commotion at the start – and you turn back to him. 

“Ready?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I know you just asked me to get you a necklace for the Ricky thing, but I actually did ask them to design a custom one for you.” 

You smile. You had made it a point – that you were going to stick it to Ricky for that stupid night that he left you drenched in the rain – but you failed to consider that this would happen. Though in hindsight, you should have expected it. 

Eren was always thoughtful when it came to things like this.

“Really?” you ask. 

Eren nods, as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the little charm necklace. You take it in his hands, admiring the little charm at the center, of the planet Saturn. You frown, turning it over in your fingers. 

“Does Saturn have some connection to Uranus that I don’t know about? I thought that I was supposed to be the moon.” you mumble. 

Eren laughs, as he shakes his head and gestures for you to spin around. You oblige, moving your hair to the side and feeling your cheeks heat up as the paparazzi snap what feels like hundreds of pictures – of Eren clasping the necklace and then pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. His voice comes out as a whisper on your skin as he pulls you closer to him, the two of you posing for the picture. 

“I mean, Marco was always a big fan of immature jokes. So I guess it does?” Eren states. 

You widen your eyes as you press your fingers to the charm, realizing what it means. 

Your braids like a pattern, love you to the moon and to Saturn. 

The last time that you were at the Met Gala was when you performed with Marco. You can feel warm tears accumulating in your eyes as Eren cups the side of your cheek, a soft smile on his face. He taps the little pin on the lapel of his jacket, a matching little saturn charm as you bite down on your cheeks and smile back. 

“He’s here with us. Haunting us from his grave like he promised.” Eren jokes. 

You give Eren a teary laugh. 

“Yeah. I think he is too.” 

You lean your head against Eren’s shoulder, as the two of you walk straight up the stairs into the venue. There’s a glimmering chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the stage decorated a sparkling silver. 

“Do you have a Maya Angelou quote for me? She always was Marco’s favorite.” 

Eren smiles. 

“I can be changed by what happens to me. But I refused to be reduced by it.” Eren states. 

--

Falco and Colt are the ones by your side backstage. You can feel your hands shaking, throwing the mic from one hand to the other, as the two of them lean their heads against yours. 

You’re performing for the first time in years. Since you performed the grudge, at that godawful awards show years ago. 

You choose to use the wall of pictures as a distraction. One of your favorite things about performing at the Met was that they took pictures of each of the performers and pasted them to the big walls behind the curtains. People would sign the walls, the pictures themselves – to mark that they had performed here, to immortalize themselves on the wall. 

And it takes a few seconds, but you find the picture dead center. Of you and Marco. The two of you are hugging each other, cheeks pressed together with pink, teary eyes, with your names scribbled in Marco’s loopy handwriting underneath. 

seven by y/n l/n ft marco bodt 

And directly next to it, is a picture you’ve never seen before. Of Eren and Marco – their hands clasped together – and the same loopy handwriting underneath with the song. 

“He didn’t want to take that picture. He…he made me do it. Said he should still remember the moment, even if he wasn’t at his best.” Armin states. 

“Oh. Hey, what are you doing here?” 

“Just checking you’re okay. First time performing and all that. And I was back here with you the last time this happened too.” Armin murmurs. 

You smile, lacing your hand through his as you both stare at the pictures of Marco and you wrap your arms around Armin at the first sound of his sniffling. 

“Well, this is hardly about me performing, Armin.” you mumble. 

Armin gives you a watery laugh, before pulling back and wiping the wetness on his face away. 

You frown as you lightly dig your elbow into his side, trying to gesture him into talking. 

You were a little harsh when you talked to him last – when you had to convince him to finally forgive Eren. You regretted it after, being so rigid and forcing him into it, but you figured direction was what Armin needed at the time. 

“Marco said that even though that moment was bad for Eren, that even though he felt like he was never going to recover, there would be a day that he looked back on it and would relish in the fact that it was never going to be like that again. I hate the fact that Eren’s probably having that moment right now and shit is still so awkward between us that I can’t even tell him that I’m happy for him.” Armin murmurs. 

You stare at the pictures. 

“I didn’t realize you were…with Eren that day.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I was. I called him a lot after the whole Girlfriend thing, he was kind of convinced that we all hated him. And I did the same when the whole Satellite Port thing happened too.” 

Armin pauses. 

“I was always there for him, until I wasn’t. And I feel like I’m fucking groveling but things still won’t be the same between us.” 

“Well, don’t lose hope about that. Mikasa and I-” 

“You and Mikasa are different. You’re…you overlook things easier than we do. Mikasa wanted you to be her maid of honor again after you said you wanted to sleep in her room – just because she realized you still loved her. Even if Eren knew I loved him, I doubt that would fix what happened with us.” 

You lean your head against your shoulder. 

“Did you finish the script yet, Armin?” you whisper. 

“What?” 

“Did you finish it?” 

“Yeah.” 

You look over at him and smile. 

“That last conversation? Between your character and his? He wrote that all on his own. It’s obviously a little bit more dramatic than he intends it but…the premise is still there. You and him, still best friends at the end of it.” 

Armin looks back at the pictures, running his hands through his hair, and ruining any semblance of styling in his golden locks. 

“You think Marco would be pissed at us? All of us?” Armin mumbles. 

“No. I know he would have loved to seen us all reconcile. That he would have been really happy for us.” 

Falco and Colt give you a gesture over your shoulder, as you shoo Armin back to his seat, and readjust the feathers on the sleeves of your dress. You give Colt a smile as he hands you the last piece of the outfit, the glittery garter belt that you wrap over your thigh as you take your cue. 

--

Eren gives you props for hundreds of things, but this one specifically. It was hard to find something that you were bad at, since it felt that you were naturally skilled at everything, but when he watched you, like this, he couldn’t help but feel like you were born for it. 

You really knew how to put on a performance. 

It’s pitch black, leave for your purple silhouette against the back of the stage. Of your fingers running across the neck of the guitar, playing the opening notes to the song Maki requested days prior – that you named Style. 

Midnight You come and pick me up, no headlights Long drive Could end in burning flames or paradise Fade into view, oh It's been a while since I have even heard from you (heard from you)

And I should just tell you to leave 'cause I Know exactly where it leads, but I Watch us go 'round and 'round each time 

Eren watches as you pause, the entire backtrack and music stopping, as the entire crowd jumps to his feet and starts hollering for you when they finally shine the lights on you. Eren watches as you give everyone a little wave, pressing your hands to your cheeks unable to contain your smile before you gesture for everyone to be quiet so you can keep singing.

And feels his chest fill with immense pride as you walk all the way down the stage, fingers fast and smiling from ear to ear as you sing again. He can’t help but feel embarrassed as the group of them – Connie, Reiner, and Jean – start smacking him on the back, screaming about how crazy his girl was. 

You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye And I got that red lip classic thing that you like And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style You got that long hair, slicked back, white T-shirt And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

When you reach the end of the stage, Eren watches as you slightly trip on your steps, before averting your eyes down to your leg. In the mess of walking and the notches on the guitar, a part of your stockings had ripped. 

Eren was impressed that you were still singing, as you reached down and took the halves of the garter belt in your hands, before you started looking out in the audience. And Eren can’t help but feel like in that moment, that some divine power might actually be real. 

Because three years ago, it was Hyla’s birthday and he was stuck at a dinner table thinking about you. About how he’d never feel that rush, that thrilling electricity that seemed to thrum in his veins whenever you looked at him. 

And he knows for a fact that really, it almost has to be real – a higher power that was looking out for him the entire time. Because years after the fact, he’s sitting here, blushing profusely as you throw the garter belt to him to catch, before you like down on the stage and scream your heart out. 

To a song that you wrote about him. 

Take me home Just take me home Yeah, just take me home Oh, whoa, oh (Out of style)

Oh, you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye And I got that red lip classic thing that you like And when we go crashing down (now we go), we come back every time  'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style 

--

--

“Ethan Cole! You’re just the person I wanted to see.” you state. 

Fresh off of the performance, with the little note card tucked in your hand, he’s the first person that you beeline towards. 

On first impression, he’s younger than Scott Clarkson by a landslide – beachy, golden hair as he stands from his share to take your extended hand. 

“Y/N L/N! Quite the performance up there, my daughter is a huge fan. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Ethan asks. 

You give the girl at his side a warm smile, the girl barely above the age of fifteen, as you turn back to him. 

“You know, I’ve really missed doing romantic comedies. I’ve heard that’s your forté,” you state. 

“Is that right?” 

“As fun as Attack on Titan can be, the drama can…be a little draining. I would love to get behind you if you produced a romantic comedy that I could star in.” 

You watch as he pinches his smile, eyes strained as he looks around the room. 

“I’m not sure how keen…some people at the company would be about that.” Ethan murmurs. 

“Who said you had to do it with them?” you state. 

“Huh?” 

You give him the best, most sickly sweet smile that you muster. “Who said…you have to do it with him?” 

You pull the little note card out of your backpocket, with your phone number scribbled over the top, and hand it to him. 

“You could easily produce it on your own. And if it was a star studded movie, you could avoid the risks of being associated as a start-up all together.” you state. 

Ethan pauses, for a while. 

“My own company?” 

“That’s right. You’re young, younger than your competition, and with how things have been going lately…I’m doubt they’ll stay afloat longer. If I were you, I’d capitalize on the fact that your own competition is about to be eliminated.” you state. 

You can tell that he almost doesn’t believe you. 

“I’ll have to think about it.” Ethan states. 

“Sure thing, Ethan. If the situation was right, I could even be persuaded to get some of my….friends to join. And I know you’re a smart guy – there’s some publicity that other people couldn’t even dream of buying.” 

You spare a glance over your shoulder to Eren at the stage with Lana, as she takes her seat at the piano and Eren begins adjusting the microphone at the stand. 

“I look forward to talking to you, Ethan.” 

And you give him a sickly sweet smile before you walk away. You settle back into your seat next to Levi and Connie – who had decided to take Eren’s open seat while he performed. 

“How did it go?” Levi asks. 

“He didn’t buy it.” you state. 

Levi gives you a terse nod, as you shake your head and readjust your seat to face the stage. Connie pulls his seat up right next to yours, the two of you giving each other a smile as you link your arms together and lean your head against his shoulder. 

“It’s your song!” you whisper. 

Connie leans his head on top of yours, voice quiet as Lana starts playing the piano. 

“It’s actually not. It’s even worse.” 

“Huh?” 

You lift your head off of his shoulder to eye him, and he only smiles, deviously, in return. 

“Let’s just say if it was my birthday today, I’d commit a murder after this.” 

You turn back to the stage, eyeing the little star decals hanging from the little ceiling, and watch as Eren nervously shakes his hands, before placing them on the mic stand. He turns to his left, giving the group of you a smile, before he starts. 

“I wrote this song exactly five years ago today when I was twenty. I was stuck at a birthday party, with a bunch of people I hated, and all I could think about was how I just wished that I was somewhere else. And really, I was hoping that the person that I really wanted beside me, had some semblance of that feeling about me too. This is my new song, it’s called Glimpse of Us.” 

When you're out of sight In my mind

'Cause sometimes I look in her eyes And that's where I find a glimpse of us And I try to fall for her touch But I'm thinking of the way it was Said I'm fine and said I moved on I'm only here passing time in her arms Hoping I'll find A glimpse of us

Eren always claimed that singing was never his forté and even from the way he moved – you could tell that he clearly felt more comfortable when he was acting. That he most definitely believed that his talents lied on a set rather than on a stage. 

And for maybe the hundredth time, it’s clear that Eren’s own visions of himself have clearly limited him. 

Because he’s beautiful. 

The stage design makes it look like he’s suspended in the sky, in between the moon and the stars, and the lack of production to the song – the fact that it’s just his voice and Lana’s fingers on the piano is chilling. 

It reminds you of that song that he wrote for you on the beach. 

Eren dislodges the microphone from the stand, tossing Lana a smile over his shoulder, before he walks directly to the edge of the stage that’s closest to you and Connie. And uses his hand to gesture for you to come closer, as he takes a seat and dangles his legs off the edge of the stage. 

You can feel the butterflies erupting in your stomach as you pull your chair closer to the stage, right until you’re looking up at Eren from your little seat and he’s looking down at you. And as he sings, he reaches down and places one of his hands on your cheek – the biting cold of the rings on his fingers cooling the warmth on your cheek – but doing nothing to help the burning in your chest from his dark green eyes, filled with such warmth and sincerity that it makes your heart race. 

You bring your own hand up to where his is on your cheek and he gives you a dimpled smile in return. 

'Cause sometimes I look in her eyes And that's where I find a glimpse of us And I try to fall for her touch But I'm thinking of the way it was Said I'm fine and said I moved on I'm only here passing time in her arms Hoping I'll find A glimpse of us

When he finishes, you press a kiss to the top of his knuckles and try to memorize the way the smile spreads across his face.  

--

Your last chance to convince this cowardly idiot Ethan Cole to agree with you guys is at the afterparty for the Met Gala, which coincidentally, you’ve never attended. 

The last time you were here, the entire ordeal was so draining – considering it was the first time that you had seen Eren since you broke up and you were here with Ricky – that you just skipped the party afterwards and went home. And you would have done the same thing now, since your hair was feeling sticky and your legs felt like lead from the heels, but you had to give it one last shot before you left. 

You had taken Mikasa and Jean’s lead, and decided to take four shots with them, by the time the party was in full swing. And right before the fifth, Eren suddenly materialized after being missing for the first half of the party and slipped it away from your nimble fingers and downed it himself. 

“Are you drinking?” he asks, shaking his head from the burn, before handing the glass back to Jean. 

“Well, obviously not if you’re taking my glass.” 

Eren reaches forward, fingers on the little ribbon around your neck, before you smack his hand off. 

“I like the outfit. It’s like the scarf from the show.” 

“That’s the point.” you state. 

Eren rolls his eyes as you both lean back against the wall, eyeing the crowd of people in front of you. 

“You should have told me. I would have matched.” Eren states. 

“How are you supposed to match? Your costume on set doesn’t have something as…obvious like the scarf.” 

“I would have just done the titan marks and called it a day.” Eren mumbles back. 

You nod, mulling over the idea, as you reach for the back hanging around your shoulder. And luckily for you, your lipstick is still in the bag – though most of the time, the bags that you have on red carpets have literally nothing on them – and instruct him to crouch so you can reach. He obliges, flashing you a smile, as you intently focus on drawing the lines under his eyes. 

Eren takes the distraction – the focus that you have from drawing on his face – and uses it to observe you. 

“Did you like my song?” Eren asks. 

“You’re insane. Did you really write that five years ago or did you make that up?” you whisper. 

“Nope. I wrote it after the last Met Gala, I think Hyla’s birthday was like a week or two after that.” he mumbles back. 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, what you were hoping was actually true. When I was at that Met Gala, I really just wished that I was with you, sitting with the rest of the cast.” 

Eren laughs. 

“Who said the song was about you?” Eren jokes. 

You pause, only to look up to glare at him, before you lightly shove him. And you can tell that he’s joking but it’s still irritating. 

“You’re such a dick, sometimes.” 

“You were thinking about me?” Eren responds, closing his hand around yours and snatching the little tube of lipstick from your hand. 

He lifts his phone up, looking at the reflection from the screen of his phone, as he messily finishes off the marks on the other side, more messy and jagged. And as annoying as he is, it’s extremely attractive when he does it – capping the lipstick and curling it back into the palm of your hand. 

“You wish.” you respond. 

Eren leans against the wall and you join him at his side, the two of you eyeing Ethan Cole at the end of the hall, with Ricky and Hyla posted up on the other side. You can’t help but seethe with anger as you watch the two of them together, curling your hands into little fists at your side. 

“I saw that video that was going around on Twitter a little while ago. Of you and Ricky, last time you were here.” Eren responds. 

“What video?” 

“It was on the red carpet. He like…grabbed your arm and shoved you.” Eren clarifies. 

“Oh! That’s right. He was trying to introduce me to John and I said some crap about him to Historia. Then, he got all pissed saying that I had to be nice to him or whatever since he was nice to you guys.” you respond. 

Levi and Hange walk up to the pair of you, arms linked together, as you straighten up. The two of them had weary eyes, focused on Eren, as they look around. 

“Eren. He’s here.” 

“Who’s here?” you ask. 

“Scott Clarkson. He just walked in – guess he’s not deciding to skip after all.” Hange responds. 

Eren leans forward, angling his head over the crowd of the people, towards the opening at the front of the hallway and feels his throat turn to sandpaper. Eren clenching his fists so hard that he’s sure he’s drawing blood, the entirety of the conversation almost lost to him as he feels himself nearly losing balance on his legs. 

“You’re free to leave, Eren. We have a car ready for you. If you want to stay, we’re here with you.” Hange states. 

You look around to the other side of the room to find Connie talking to a group of people, none of which you knew. Mikasa and Jean are a few feet away – but clearly drunk out of their mind – and you can’t seem to find anyone else who could stay with him. You jerk your head back, to the two of them. 

“Listen. I’ve got Eren. Could you guys check that Connie’s going to be fine?” 

Hange and Levi turn their heads to the side, giving you a nod, as they speed walk to the other side of the room and you link your arm in with Eren’s. He’s still staring at the other side of the room and you lightly tug on his arm to catch his attention, his eyes almost dazed when he looks at you. 

“Sorry. Did Hange and Levi say something?” 

“Just wanted to make sure you were okay. We can leave if you want to, there’s a car and everything.” 

“No…no, we didn’t talk to Ethan Cole yet. And, it’s fine.” Eren responds, shaking his head. 

It’s not that Eren’s exactly scared of Scott Clarkson, though there was a point in time that he most certainly would be. It’s more that he’s intimidated by what could go down, because while Eren knows that he isn’t exactly being swayed by him anymore, it’s a debilitating reminder every time he makes a comment that sends Eren tumbling back down. 

“Lana and Sukuna are together. I sent Hange and Levi to check on Connie. And I’m here with you, so…so all the bases are covered.” you respond. 

Eren smiles. 

“You’re here with me? What are you going to do?” 

“Punch him in the face.” you respond. 

Eren laughs. 

“Are you crazy?” 

“Do I look like a comedian to you?” you ask Eren. 

“You look more like a clown to me.” 

You feel your eyes widen, as you turn to your side and find Hyla and Ricky standing right to the left of you and Eren. You’re not sure what it is, but Eren suddenly squared his shoulders back, muscles tense at the sight of them. 

“Do you need something?” Eren asks. 

Hyla rolls her eyes as she looks at Eren, before turning back to you. And her eyes flicker to the necklace around your neck, before she looks back up at you and smiles. 

“Cute necklace!” 

Eren grins at your side. They took the bait. 

“Do you like it, Ricky? It’s custom Tiffany. I had it made special for Y/N myself.” Eren asks. 

You watch as Ricky furrows his brow, slightly clenching his jaw and nearly pink in the face, as he rolls his eyes in response – very clearly understanding the reference. 

“I don’t know where the fuck you think you get off, Eren. Need I remind you, that while I was at the top of my fucking career you were cleaning up a baby’s diapers.” 

You watch as Eren’s eye twitches, knuckles white at his side as he doesn’t respond. And it only gets more agitating since Ricky clearly gets off on the fact that Eren refuses to fight back, and takes it as an invitation to keep going. 

“Seriously, dude. You started at the fucking top of the food chain – your parents are literally Grisha and Carla Jaeger – and yet you’re slumming it with Lana and Sukuna. Lana’s quite literally the biggest bitch I’ve ever met in my life. Don’t pretend like you’re both not trying to get your five minutes of fame by talking about me. And don’t even get me started on how pathetic Sukuna is for what he said in that dumbass documentary the two of you made. Donating to sexual assault victims won’t fix a lack of talent.” 

“Where do you get-” 

“Y/N.” Eren states, silencing you all together. 

“That’s right, Eren. You better keep my sloppy seconds-” 

Ricky doesn’t get to finish the statement, because Eren’s punched him in the face. Not once, not twice, but three times to the point where he’s tackled him onto the floor, a bright red decorating his knuckles. 

“Y/N. What the fuck? Get him to stop!” 

You know that it’s petty. That maybe if you were a little bit of a better person, you actually would have asked Eren to stop. But Ricky James was quite literally the worst person you had ever met and deep down, there wasn’t even a single part of him that didn’t deserve what he was getting right now. 

You crouch down on your knees, Eren momentarily stopping to look at you, before you shake your head and look down at him. 

“I’m so sorry, Ricky. I don’t think I can do that right now.” 

Eren smiles, as he lands one more punch, before a very drunk Jean and Reiner are able to pull him off – Maki and Pieck at your sides as they rub into the softness of your arms. You shake your head, signaling to them that you were fine, as Eren looks over at you over the accumulating crowd of people, and gives you a gesture. You nod, as Eren extends his hand out to you, and the two of you walk to the other side of the room. You eye the blood on Eren’s hand, all Ricky’s you’re sure, as Eren stops at the table and starts filling the cups with the lemonade. 

“We need a drink.” Eren states. 

“That’s what got you pissed off, Eren? When he started talking bad on my name?” you mumble. 

“I love your name.” Eren defends. 

You smile. 

“Though, I always felt like it’s missing something.” Eren adds. 

You roll your eyes. 

“And what’s that, huh?” 

“My last name.” Eren responds. 

Eren watches as a blush creeps over your cheeks and try not to laugh when you mutter something that sounds an awful lot like fuck you under your breath as he passes you one of the glasses of lemonade. Which is right when Lana comes up and snatches the glass from his hand and slams it down on the table. 

“Are you a fucking idiot, Eren?” Lana seethes. 

“What?” Eren responds, giving her an annoyed shrug back as he takes the glass back and hands you one. 

“You promised, Eren.” Sukuna responds. 

“You two can get your panties out of a twist. I didn’t break any promises.” 

“Do you think I’m blind, Eren?” Lana asks. 

Eren rolls his eyes, as he leans down, bringing his face closer to Lana’s. It’s the same thing that Colt does to you – on the rare occasions that he’s able to prove you wrong. 

“You made me promise that if Ricky said anything about Teddy or you, I wouldn’t say anything. And Sukuna made me promise that if Ricky said anything about him, I wouldn’t do anything, because it would upset you.” Eren states. 

That’s why he didn’t say anything. 

“Our princess over here didn’t force me to make any promises like that. So the second he called her sloppy seconds, I did what I had to do.” Eren responds. 

Lana’s eyes widen, as she turns her head to you. 

“What a dick. Are you okay?” Lana asks. 

“I’m fine. He said worse about you guys, I wanted to punch him myself.” 

Eren smiles, as he leans down to look at you. 

“Too bad. He’s getting escorted out on his ass now, so you lost your chance.” Eren responds, pointing towards the door. 

And surely enough, the security are taking him out with his hands secured behind his back – no thanks to the obscene screaming he’s doing – while Hyla looks maybe the most irritated you’ve ever seen before. She spares you one last glance, to which you and Eren respond with glimmering smiles, before she walks out. 

Lana gestures towards the bathrooms as Eren follows, presumably to wash his hands, leaving you and Sukuna by the table, nursing the little glasses of lemonade in your hands. And wordlessly, you extend your glass out to Sukuna – and thank your lucky stars that he understands – as he pulls the little flask from the pocket and pours it into your drink and then his. 

“Eren’s been waiting for that one.” Sukuna states. 

“I’m shocked you haven’t.” you respond. 

“Maybe before. But you know, with the kid, you have to be a good role model and all that. Plus, I hate when Lana lectures me because she gets really mean.” 

You snort. 

“I’d be scared of her too.” you respond. 

“Speaking of scared, how many drinks until he falls off?” Sukuna asks, pointing to the left. 

You follow his line of vision to find Yuuji standing on top of the bar, tie loosely hanging around his neck and pink in the face with Satoru, as he sings along to the music playing from the speakers. 

“Which one are you talking about? I think they’re both well past that point.” you respond. 

“Yuuji, obviously. I’m going to stop him before he ends up on a headline.” Sukuna responds. 

“You have fun with that. I’ll watch from over here.” you respond, as Sukuna walks away. 

When you scan the room for Ethan Cole, you find that he’s already looking at you. You give him a polite wave, positive that whatever Eren just did with Ricky James must have swayed him some type of way, as you lean back against the edge of the table. And the table dips slightly under you, nearly making you spill the glass of lemonade, when you find Scott Clarkson leaning against at your side, his beady eyes fixed on you. 

“Y/N. It’s nice to see you.” 

“I’m so glad you were finally able to learn my name.” you respond.  

Scott clicks his tongue in his cheek, before extending his hand out to shake it at you. You begrudgingly oblige, skin curling with disgust as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, and leans back. 

“I’ll admit, I had you pegged all wrong in the beginning. But I’m sure that you can understand, it can be so hard to trust new and upcoming talent like that when you run a big company.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” you deadpan. 

“I think we should let bygones be bygones. I even think that we could be useful to one another. If you really wanted full ownership of your albums back, I could get it for you. Just a few movies, here and there, and they’d be back in your hands.” 

You feel your throat dry. 

“What did you just say to me?” 

“I’m sure you know I am well acquainted with Danny and Sareen. I’m sure I could persuade them, after a little give and take.” 

You thank the heavens that the stylists had stacked each of your fingers with a perfect set of silver rings. You sure it made it hurt even more when you slapped him across the face. 

“You have some nerve, you asshole. Don’t even think about-” 

You feel a set of arms on your biceps, squeezing hard, as you turn your head to find Levi at your side. You shake your head, turning back to Scott, who no whas a group of people around him, inspecting the red mark you’ve left on his cheek. 

“Levi. Fucking, get off.” 

“This is not the time for this. You and Eren are leaving, you’ve had too much to drink.” Levi responds, pushing you out into the cold air outside the hall and near the taxi. 

Eren’s leaning against the car door and he quickly jumps up at the sound of your voice, meeting Levi at your side. 

“Did you hit him, Y/N? They’re saying that you hit him.” 

“I slapped him.” 

Eren pinches his mouth into a line. 

“Did he hit back?” Eren asks. 

“What? No. Levi started yanking me off of him before I could get another one in.” 

Eren passes Levi a thankful smile, before ducking your head into the taxi, and tuning back into your rambling. 

“He’s such a dick. He fucking had that coming, trying to offer me a career like I don’t know who he is and what he fucking does. Like really, even down to being an opportunist, does he really think I care about my album that was already stolen from me over all of my friends? Over you? I think he’s a psychopath and we didn’t even get to solidify the deal with Ethan Cole or-” 

“Okay, Y/N. Relax. It’s-” 

“We have to do something to get his attention. Something crazy. I have an idea but…you have to follow my lead, okay?” 

Eren’s slightly hesitant. Only because he can tell that you really are tipsy from the light pink tint in your cheeks and the way that you’re shaking your legs. But he hates to tell you no, especially when you’re staring at him so expectantly, waiting for an answer. 

And when you drag Eren into a sweaty tattoo parlor, Eren realizes that maybe you’re well past tipsy. 

“I technically picked what we did last time, Eren. So it’s your turn. Just make sure it’s something like…fucking crazy. Like iconic.” 

Eren has an idea. But he can’t say it. Because you can’t possibly get that tattooed. And he’s sure that it’s showing on his face, because now you’re giving him an excited smile, jumping up and down on your feet waiting for him to tell. 

“Oh my god. What is it? Tell me right now.” 

“Uh. The moon and the ocean.” Eren responds. 

You frown. 

“We already basically have that as a tattoo, Eren. With the fish? And I can tell that’s not what you were going to say.” you respond. 

Eren sighs. 

“Y/N. It’s too much.” 

“Nothing’s too much! Come on, it’s you and me that we’re talking about. We got fucking matching tattoos when we were like eighteen and released songs about quite literally fucking each other on the same day! We can get a crazy tattoo!” 

“You’re so crass when you’re drunk, Y/N.” 

“The word Levi used was homicidal.” you respond. 

Eren sighs, as he tells you his idea, and watches your face light up. And after the fact, Eren can’t help but feel like he’s on top of the world.

Because for a second time now – the two of you are running down the streets, bathed in the dim lamplight and laughing into the night. Matching tattoos of each other’s names on the inside of your lips, a confession on the tips of your tongues like you were two soulmates destined to be together.

That’s the moment you’re able to coin it. 

You’re head over heels in love with Eren Jaeger. Again. Maybe even worse, more desperately than the first time.

And as the perfect cherry on top, Ethan Cole sends you a message confirming the deal the following morning.

--

--

next part linked here

an: are you catching my hint for the songs in our next chapter.....which is an AWARDS SHOW CHAPTER ARE WE READY. and don't worry....scott clarkson and danny/sareen welcome to your tape...this next chapter is for you

(pls tell me someone gets the pussy joke that megumi made and that im not just horrendously chronically online)

taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636

[senditcolton]

I'm Still Glad I Met You

Isn't it profound, how such a brief experience can be so special?

summary: Emmaline 'Emma' Evans never expected to be in Paris, searching for inspiration to bring back to her new cafe in New York. She certainly didn't expect to meet Nico, a stranger who doesn't feel like one. But is it just the City of Love twisting her emotions, making her fall for someone who is sure to be temporary? Or is this is the start of something real? song inspo: need by taylor swift word count: 12.5k warnings: hinted intimacy (non-explicit), brief language, resolved angst. written for @wyattjohnston's winter fic exchange to @offside-the-lines with love 🤍❄️🖋️ bonus epilogue!

Au nom de l’équipage d’Air France, nous vous souhaitons une bonne journée.

From the large windows, Emmaline Evans watches the darkened tarmac pass, her plane headed towards the gate. There was still a small part of her that couldn’t believe that she in Paris. It was exciting even though she wouldn’t be able to explore until tomorrow. But she knew to hold her excitement close to her chest, letting her head guide her instead of her heart.

She wasn’t here for a vacation. She was here for work.

While this trip was an early birthday gift from her parents, it was bought with the express purpose of helping her prepare for the opening of the café she and her best friend Morgan had been planning for the past year and was now only 4 months away.

La Crème de la Crème. The best of the best. That was the name and that was the goal; to bring a bit of France back to Greenwich Village and impress all who walked in with Morgan’s coffee talents and Emma’s pastry skills. And what better way to bring Paris to New York than to take inspiration from the City of Love itself?

Pulling her phone out from her purse, she checks the time. 8pm. She scours through her memory until she remembers that New York is six hours behind. Opening her messages, she shoots off a quick text to Morgan.

Landed! I’m going to get to the apartment and then try to sleep. How are things going over there? sent 8:08pm

The rustling of the other passengers pulls Emma’s attention from her phone, realizing that it was time to depart from the plane. She hastily grabs her items, lugging her suitcase from the overhead bin and makes her way through the airport. She utters a quick thank you to the universe for her knowledge of the French language or she would be completely lost. It isn’t until she has successfully grabbed a cab and began the route to the Paris apartment, does she check her messages again.

It's all good here! The rest of the equipment came today so the plan is to finish installing that today. And then all that’s left is the menu, staff, and décor. received 8:16pm

You make it sound so easy. sent 8:37pm

Babe, we’ve been planning this for ages. We are literally in the homestretch! received 8:42pm

I know, it’s just… ugh. I wish you were here with me. This is our dream after all. sent 8:44pm

I do too. But I’m perfectly fine holding down the fort here. You just focus on Paris and all the amazing desserts you’re going to recreate when you come back stateside! (don’t forget to make notes about the coffee as well!) received 8:49pm

I don’t know coffee nearly as well as you but I’ll do my best. Thanks, Morgan. I literally couldn’t do this without you. sent 8:53pm

You know it. received 8:54pm

A small chuckle escapes from Emma’s throat at Morgan’s reply. She sighs, looking out the taxi window, blinking a few times at the sights in front of her. She was so absorbed in the everything she left behind that she wasn’t even paying attention to where she was. She had entered the city limits. She arrived.

Paris. The city seemed to sparkle as she rode down the narrow streets and alleyways. It was early in the evening which meant the streets were crowded with people. Emma had always believed that New York was the city that never slept but she had a feeling that Paris would prove her wrong.

The taxi pulls up to the Airbnb that Emma rented and she takes her luggage, thanking her driver before grabbing the key out of the lockbox and making her way up the narrow staircase. She looks out the small window, looking at the city stretching out in front of her, the lights of the Eiffel Tower shining in the distance.

These next 4 days would be magical. That much she was sure of. What else could this experience be described as?

~*~*Day One*~*~

Emma had been in Paris for less than 16 hours and she had already found so much inspiration. It wasn’t just the cafés that she had stopped at so far, it wasn’t even the assortment of treats she had already eaten; it was the city. She thought the stories she heard about Paris were exaggerations – no city could be that amazing. People surely had to be over-romanticizing the city of romance. But they weren’t.

Here, in this moment, sitting at the Café de la Paix outside the Grand Hotel, watching as the people passed her by, listening as the chatter of multiple languages bouncing off her eardrums… she realized those stories were true. The city itself brought about its own kind of energy, cocooning her in a beautiful dream. The afternoon sun was warm on her face and Emma could only hope to bottle a mere drop of this feeling and pack it in her suitcase to bring back to New York along with her notebook that was already filled with scribbles and notes about the delicacies that she had sampled.

“Je peux me asseoir ici?”

The slightly butchered pronunciation pulls Emma out of her reverie. She looks over to see a man standing with his hand lightly resting on the chair across from her. She shoots him a smile, her hand gesturing towards the seat.

“It’s all yours.”

“Is it that obvious that I don’t speak French?” the stranger asks her as he sits down, a sheepish look on his face.

“I never said that,” Emma laughs, her lighthearted teasing pulling a relaxed smile onto his lips. “But you shouldn’t feel too bad,” she continues. “I’ve noticed that if you have even a hint of an accent, the locals here switch to English, even if you actually know how to speak French.”

“I take it that’s happened to you?”

“The American is hard to mask,” she replies with a slight shake of her head. “I’m Emma.”

“Nico,” the stranger replies, reaching for her outstretched hand to give it a polite shake. “So, American huh?”

“Born and raised. What about you? I don’t mean to pry but I do hear a… unique accent.”

“I’m from Switzerland but I work in America,” Nico explains.

“And you’re in Paris for…” Emma asks, unsure why she is so interested in this – very handsome – stranger’s story. But Nico doesn’t seem to mind her questions as he gives a small shrug and replies with that same gentle smile on his face.

“My job. Some press work,” he says, vague but nonchalant.

“Wow. You’re from Switzerland, you work in America, but your job also takes you to Paris? Quite a world traveler.”

“I’m very lucky,” Nico says before turning the question back to her. “What about you? Are you here for work or pleasure?”

“Work. But maybe a little bit of pleasure?”

“Well, now you’ve intrigued me.”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“I’d still love to hear about it.”

“Really? I don’t want to waste your time,” Emma says, hesitant. However, she can’t deny the small spark of hope that flutters in her chest over the prospect of Nico wanting to talk to her. Who wouldn’t deny the attention of an attractive and kind stranger?

“I have nothing planned for the rest of the day,” Nico assures her. “Plus, you’re one of the few people who has been welcoming to me, outside of the people from my… company.”

“Are the Parisian’s living up to the ‘stuck up French’ stereotype?” she laughs.

“Unfortunately for them, they are,” Nico replies with a laugh of his own. “But I guess it is pretty fortunate for me.”

“Really? Why is that?”

“Because then I wouldn’t have run into you.”

Emma feels her cheeks flush as his casual flattery, her head ducking down in shyness. When she looks up, she can see the grin on Nico’s face – as if he enjoyed making her flustered – and Emma is struck with the strange juxtaposition of wanting to playfully wipe that smirk away but also wanting to make sure it stayed just so she could see it more.

“Well, if I’m going to tell you my life story, I’m going to need more coffee,” she finally replies, before waving over the waitress.

The day ends up being a waste for Emma – well, at least in the work sense. She doesn’t leave Café de la Paix until late, sun hanging low in the sky; not nearly enough time left in the day to hit all of the cafés, boulangeries, and patisseries that she planned on visiting. But she finds that she doesn’t care. Because all those ‘wasted’ hours were spent talking to Nico.

He was funny and sweet and charming and drop dead gorgeous. Talking to him felt so natural, like they had known each other for ages even though they just met that day. The entire experience of him sitting across from her in a Paris café, listening to her stories, telling her stories of his own, and constantly shooting her that beautiful dimpled smile… it felt like something out of a dream.

The cynical part of her psyche wanted to shake her; he was a stranger and she was caught up in the romance of Paris. That was all. But the hopeless romantic side of her wanted to stay in this cotton-candy colored haze for as long as she could.

Which is why, now, as she sits in her rental apartment, her notebook splayed open in front of her, she isn’t brainstorming a menu or planning the ingredient list for the café or even scrolling through Pinterest for interior design inspiration.

Instead, her eyes are tracing the scrawl of numbers that Nico wrote in the top right-hand corner.

A number that was written as a request for him to join her on her exploration of Paris.

And – after she banishes that negative voice into the corner of her mind – Emma enters the number into her messages, texting him an invitation to meet her at Du Pain et des Idees on 34 Rue Yves Toudic.

She falls asleep to the knowledge of Nico’s reply.

See you then. received 9:18pm

~*~*Day Two*~*~

This was absolutely ridiculous.

That was all that Emma could think as she closes the door to her rented Parisian apartment.

Granted, a lot of things about this situation were ridiculous. The fact that she was in Paris. The fact that she was there to help open her dream café. The fact that everything she ate tasted better than she could ever imagine.

But the most ridiculous part of all? Nico.

The man that she had only met yesterday and yet… there was something about him. His gentle eyes, his soft smile, the dimples in his cheeks.

He was at the boulangerie when she arrived, a coffee in hand and an Escargot a la Pistache for her. Another thing to add into the ridiculous column – that pastry was the reason that particular store was on her checklist.

And then the day that followed… even more unbelievable. Walking down the Parisian streets with Nico by her side, taking multiple pit-stops into cafés and patisseries and boulangeries, talking about everything but also nothing at all. Nico stayed by her side into the late afternoon, until his job called him away.

There was a constant battle in her mind about why this was happening.

The hopeless romantic was telling her that this was fate; she was supposed to meet Nico here in Paris and they were supposed to experience this moment in time together. That there was a reason, some grand universal scheme, that out of all the tables he could’ve chosen to sit at in Café de la Paix, he chose hers.

The cynic, however, was telling her this was nothing. He chose that table because it was open. He accompanied her today because it came with the promise of delicious French cuisine. And sure, maybe he liked the way she looked. Perhaps that was the reason he stuck around; he was a young handsome man in a foreign country who was simply looking for a good time.

But if that was all he wanted, why choose her? He could easily pick up any beautiful French woman at any bar or club, spend the night with her and then forget her name come morning. Why spend an entire with her, seeming perfectly happy keeping her company, even if that company included her ranting to him about the details of pastry and desserts, something he admitted he knew nothing about?

That unknowable ‘why?’ was haunting Emma. Was she being paranoid? Or was she being careful? Or was she just overthinking about something and someone that was temporary?

In three days’ time, she would be on a plane flying back to New York and whatever she had shared with Nico would be over. She would never see him again. That wasn’t something that her emotions were lying to her about. That wasn’t something refutable. She would never see Nico again. Because that is what this was: temporary.

The thing is… it didn’t feel temporary.

If this was fate or destiny or whatever, it didn’t feel like Nico was supposed to come into her life for a few days and then leave without another word exchanged between them. It felt more intentional.

But, once again, perhaps her emotions were twisting this reality into the fairytale that she so desperately wanted her life to be.

Emma is startled out of her spiraling thoughts by the shrill sound of her phone ringing. After rummaging through her bag, she grasps her cell and is surprised to see Morgan’s number flashing on her screen.

The spike of fear that rushes through her clears her head faster than even the strongest cup of coffee. There was absolutely no reason for Morgan to be calling unless it was an emergency; money troubles, delivery issues, hell it could even be something worse like mold or an electrical fire. Emma quickly accepts the call and lifts her cell to her ear, mentally preparing herself.

“Girl, you better tell me what the hell is going on with you,” Morgan’s voice echoes through the line, clear as day even with the white noise of New York in the background.

“What?” Emma asks, taken aback by Morgan’s unexpected words.

“Nuh-uh, you don’t get to avoid this,” Morgan quips, confusing Emma even further.

“Morgan, I really don’t know what you are talking about,” Emma sighs.

“The pictures? The angles? That love-struck look on your face in every single one of them?”

“What are you talking about?” Emma repeats.

“Babe, come on. I’ve known you for years now. You think I don’t know what it looks like when you’ve tripped head over heels for someone?”

Finally, the fog lifts from Emma’s brain.

“You’re talking about the pictures I’ve texted to you,” she sighs, collapsing onto the couch. In an effort to keep Morgan updated, she had asked Nico to occasionally take her picture – across from café tables or in front of other classic Parisian sights, all which she sent to Morgan with a quick message or an even faster emoji.

“What else would I be talking about?” Morgan says, the exasperated tone that Emma had grown to love hitting her eardrums.  

“I thought you were calling me because there was some type of emergency.”

“This is a freaking emergency!” Morgan shouts, causing a laugh to fall from Emma, one which is ignored as Morgan barrels on. “My best friend has been struck by Cupid’s arrow in the City of Love!”

“I have not.”

“Don’t deny it. Now, spill. Who is the mysterious French gentleman?”

“He’s actually Swiss,” Emma retorts, knowing that Nico’s nationality was the least important reason Morgan was calling. A thought that is practically confirmed by Morgan’s next words.

“What?”

“Nothing. His name is Nico. He’s in Paris for work. I met him at Café de la Paix yesterday.”

“Really? That’s it? That’s all I get? The CliffsNotes version?”

“Well, to be honest, that’s all I really know. I mean, we’ve talked about family and childhood and general get-to-know each other things – food, movies, all that – but that’s it,” Emma explains, the words feeling stupid as they come out of her mouth.

When talking to Nico, she didn’t mind that they kept things surface level. She knew the reason for it. It was because of that word that continued to plague her – temporary. No point getting into the ‘deep stuff’ when all this would be a distant memory soon.

“Is he handsome?” Morgan’s voice sounds again, her focus on what she considered ‘important’ forcing a laugh from Emma’s lips.

“Drop dead gorgeous,” Emma sighs, Nico’s eyes and dimples and smile dancing through her mind.  

“Have you slept with him yet?”

“Morgan!”

“What?” Morgan exclaims, her own laugh seeping into her words. “I feel like it’s a very relevant question: have you slept with the drop-dead gorgeous man you met yesterday, who is choosing to spend a day of his vacation with you?”

“I told you, he’s here for work. And we didn’t spend the entire day together.”

“Not important. Have you slept with him?”

“No, I haven’t,” Emma replies, the smile clear in her words.

“Bitch, why not?” Morgan shrieks, causing Emma to laugh once again.

“Because. Besides, you should know I don’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah, I know, not since you got out of school. But come on! First off, I take it he’s not a pretentious wanna-be pastry chef, right?”

“He’s not.”

“Alright. Secondly, you’re never going to see him again so what’s the harm?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Emma sighs as she sinks deeper into the couch cushions, the joy dropping from her voice at yet another reminder of this being temporary.

“Woah, okay,” Morgan says, her own voice softening at the sadness broadcasted in Emma’s. “Something else is going on here.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Clearly, it’s not considering how upset you sound. Come on, it’s just me. Your best friend in the whole wide world who may tease you a bit but would never actually judge you.”

Emma takes a deep breath, looking around her apartment, trying to get her thoughts in order. Her eyes move to the window where she can still see the shape of the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

“It’s just…” she begins, hesitating, worried that the words will sound ridiculous. But she relaxes, remembering that it’s just Morgan. “I’ve never felt like this before. Nico, he’s… he’s so sweet and so kind. I mean, like you said, he’s spending his free time to hang out with me. Like, that must mean something right? I mean, if he wanted a piece of ass he could find one easily.”

“Not one as hot as yours,” Morgan interjects but Emma pays no mind to her words.

“It seems like he cares about me as more than just a potential hookup. And when I’m with him… it’s easy, like we’ve known each other for ages. Part of me wants to say that all these emotions are fake because – y’know – it’s the ‘City of Love’ and Paris just making me think this is more than it is but… I feel like I could fall in love with him.”

Emma can hear Morgan’s intake of breath, a tell-tale sign that she opened her mouth to speak but Emma cut her off before she could utter a syllable.

“I know that’s stupid to say about a man I met less than 36 hours ago. Plus, like you said, we’re never going to see each other again. His job apparently takes him all around the world so the chances of running into him after this are slim to none. But since I like him this much – in a way that is beyond casual – I’m worried that if I sleep with him or hell even kiss him, it will just make it harder to get over him. Which, again, is silly that I’m worried about getting over someone that I will might spend a maximum of four days with. Like – it’s just – I don’t know.”

Emma heaves another sigh, her hand moving to run through her dark hair before a half-hearted chuckle escapes her.

“This is why I don’t do casual.”

There is a small pause as Morgan takes in all of Emma’s words, the only sound filtering through the phone being the ambient noise of both of their respective cities. Emma finally hears a sigh from the other line before Morgan’s voice comes through.

“Listen, you know I’m not much for soulmates and true love and all of that. But I think you should just embrace it, whatever it is that you are feeling.”

This time, it is Emma who is about to voice a retort and Morgan who stops her before she can.

“Yeah, you’ll probably never see him again. Yeah, this is all temporary. But isn’t that even more reason to dive in headfirst while you can? Better to live a life of mistakes than a life of regret.”

Emma lets Morgan’s final statement sink in, her brain moving a mile a minute. She was right: what was there to lose? The question whirls around Emma’s head, the answer to which doesn’t instantly appear. The only thing that Emma could think to utter was another sigh.

“You know, sometimes you give really good advice.”

“It does tend to happen from time to time, thank you for noticing,” Morgan laughs. “And hey, regardless of what you decide over there in Paris, maybe this whirlwind romance will give you even more inspiration for the café!”

“And sometimes you give advice like that,” Emma jokes, the exasperation in the tone obvious.

“Eh, you win some, you lose some. I’ll let you get some dinner and sleep. Keep me updated – this time on everything not just the food, please and thank you.”

“Will do. Bye Morgan.”

Morgan replies with a quick goodbye before the call ends, leaving Emma alone with her thoughts once more. The hours pass and after ordering some takeout, Emma sits down at her small kitchen table. While she eats, Emma flips open to the back page of her notebook, writing down all the emotions and questions swirling around in her head, trying find some logical solution to her current predicament.

She’s in the middle of making a pros and cons list when her phone screen lights up with a message. Not thinking much of it, she doesn’t bother looking at the preview before unlocking her phone, ready to read another quip from Morgan. She is halted in her movements when she sees Nico’s name on the screen.

Hey. I had a lot of fun hanging out with you today. I was wondering if you wanted to do it again tomorrow? I have the evening off and would love to take in some Parisian nightlife. received 7:58pm

Emma’s eyes dance over his words before jumping back to her own looped handwriting on the pages of her notebook, trying to add this message into the tangle of possibilities. She is about to type up an excuse about why she can’t before a familiar voice echoes through her mind.

Better to live a life of mistakes than a life of regret. What’s the worst that could happen?

Yes, it could be a huge mistake letting Nico get any closer, letting him mess with her emotions any more than he already has. But maybe, just maybe, this was meant to be. And as Emma chews over those two possibilities, another question enters her mind.

Which would hurt more? Getting over Nico or never giving him a chance?

Emma looks back to her phone, the answer obvious to her now. She deletes the previously half written message before typing up a new response.

What did you have in mind? sent 8:06pm

Anything’s good for me. Just as long as you’re there. received 8:10pm

~*~*Day Three*~*~

Emma thought that she would get used to this feeling; the feeling of existing in a dream. It seemed to happen every hour she spent with Nico by her side. And now, the evening air warm as the two of them sit outside of Carette, the sweet taste of macarons in dancing across their tastebuds with the Eiffel Tower shining directly across the Seine… it was something out of a romance novel.

Emma glances across the small table towards Nico, wondering if he felt the same. He catches her stare and when that beautiful smile appears on his face, the butterflies erupt in her stomach. No one else had been able to illicit that reaction from her with something as simple a smile.

“Anything you would like to do next?” Nico asks, wiping the remnants of his dessert on the small paper napkins.

“Not really. I – well, we’ve – hit most of the cafés and stores on my list so I don’t have really anywhere I need to be,” Emma explains. Nico nods, acknowledging her words with a small hum. “I might just head back to my apartment. It is getting kind of late.”

“Need any company?”

His words catch Emma’s attention, the potential entendre clear within them. Emma shoots him a questioning look and it seems that her expression makes Nico realize how it must have sounded.

“I mean, not like that, I, um – what I was trying to say was would you like me to walk you home – keep you company on the way to your place,” he stumbles over his words and in the streetlights, Emma can see his cheeks turning a rosy pink. She assuages his fear with a soft laugh.

“I’d like that.”

“Good. Okay,” Nico sighs, his hands running through his hair.  He smiles again, one that Emma returns, before he lifts himself from his chair, holding his hand out to Emma. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Emma says, placing her hand in his as he helps her from her seat. Emma is about ready release her grasp when she feels his grip slightly tighten, an action that brings another questioning look on her face.

“Is this alright?” Nico asks, his voice soft.

The butterflies in her stomach flip into overdrive at his gentle request. Although she had agreed to this – Date? Meeting? Rendezvous? Whatever. – with Nico, a part of her was still hesitant to make a more daring move. To dive head first as Morgan said. Vulnerability had never been much of a strong suit for her.

But considering that Nico was looking at her like she hung the stars, that sweet earnest expression on his face, she realized that she didn’t care if her heart would be broken by the end of this trip. Because whatever she shared with Nico… it was magical.

Why not keep the magic for as long as she could?

The smallest of smiles tugs at the corner of Emma’s lips as she adjusts her hold around Nico’s hand, weaving her fingers through his.

“It’s perfect,” she whispers, her voice wavering a bit; a waver that Nico hears but silences with a small squeeze of her hand and that bright dimpled smile.

The two of them leave the small café, walking hand in hand across the square, through the Trocadero Gardens to the Pont d’Iena bridge, the Eiffel Tower standing tall in front of them. The water of the Siene is a soft soundtrack below them and Emma finds herself caught up in the beauty of Paris.

Part of her thought that the novelty of the city would wear off eventually. But it seemed that Paris revealed something else wonderful to her every second she walked down its paved streets. As her and Nico walk underneath the sprawling base of the Eiffel Tower, Emma’s eyes trace the steelwork; its gentle arcs, its cross-work patterns, the diamond in the center that she knew lifted up and up, the lights hung on every intricate weld. This vacation was one of the best things that ever happened to her, that much she was sure of.

And it was made even sweeter with the presence of the man by her side, still holding her hand.

She looks over towards Nico, his eyes connecting to hers, a smile appearing on both of their faces. She lets him lead her away from the tower, down Champ de Mars.

Emma had previously thought that the city was manipulating her emotions, getting her hopes up over someone who didn’t feel the same. Now, she thought that perhaps the city brought Nico to her for a reason. That the city wasn’t scheming to break her heart… it was planning to open it and let Nico – with his gentle eyes and soft smile and adorable dimples – change her for the better.

Her daydreams are interrupted by a chorus of ‘oohs’ falling from the mouths of other tourists around her and Nico. Emma looks and sees a few people with their camera’s aimed behind them and when she turns, her jaw drops.

There in the background, the Eiffel Tower stands, it’s thousands of lights now flashing, making the entire structure look as if it was covered in glitter.

“I haven’t been able to catch the light show since I got here,” Emma whispers, partly to herself but her words also land on Nico’s eardrums. “I always forgot when it started.”

The two of them stand there, taking in the sparkling spire before Nico’s voice breaks the brief silence.

“Do you want a picture?”

“Could you? That be amazing,” Emma says, reaching into her purse before she stops. “Oh, right. My phone died.”

“I can use mine,” Nico replies without any hesitation, reaching into the pocket of his jeans.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he says, phone now in hand.

Nico starts to take a step back, his hand slipping from Emma’s grasp. But before he can fully let go, her fingers tighten around his. The action takes Nico by surprise, his eyes jumping to their intertwined hands before looking back to Emma.

“Take one with me?” she asks, her own voice soft, the question seeming to hold more weight than it should. Emma watches as a flicker of hesitation passes across Nico’s face, the uncertainty making her anxiety jump. But Nico once again silences her fear, his expression morphing back into that smile that made her heart skip in the best way before he gently nods his head, stepping back towards her.

Nico turns their bodies so the Eiffel Tower is behind them before holding out his phone. Emma takes a small breath before she moves, slotting her body next to his, her free hand lifting to rest on his chest. Every movement is tentative, unsure of how much Nico will allow. But when Nico drops her hand to wrap his arm around her body, pulling her closer, Emma relaxes. Her body curls into Nico’s, head resting on his shoulder as Nico angles the camera to capture the shimmering tower in the background.

Nico’s thumb presses the shutter button a few times before moving the phone closer to them as his hands navigate from the camera to the photos. Emma looks over the images, the smile never leaving her face. Each picture is beautiful; the two of them looking incredibly happy, the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the distance. She turns her attention away from Nico’s phone, back towards him. But when their eyes connect, her breath catches in her throat.

The look on Nico’s face is one that Emma has seen a thousand times before, but only in movies and television shows. A look that had never once been directed towards her. A look of utmost gentleness, the yearning in Nico’s irises gleaming with the same intensity as the light show still happening behind them.

Nico’s head dips closer towards Emma’s upturned face and Emma finds her own body is stretching up to meet him. They pause, bare inches in between them and Emma can feel the gentle brush of Nico’s breath fanning across her cheeks.

Another moment of hesitation, the air thick with indecision, waiting for someone to make the final move.

In the end, it turns out to be Nico that leans in, closing the gap between them and capturing Emma’s lips in a gentle kiss. The press of him against her surprises Emma – not because she wasn’t expecting it, not because she didn’t want it, but because she couldn’t quite believe it was really happening.

The touch of him, the taste of him… it felt too good to be true.

But when she feels Nico start to pull away, the shock subsides and the hunger takes over. Her hands blindly lift to burrow into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, dragging him back into her as she reciprocates the kiss.

This time, it is Nico that is taken aback by her intensity but it is brief – a minuscule surprise – until he matching her passion, his own hands tightening around her waist, pulling her body impossibly closer to her. The kisses deepen, the two of them enveloped in the desire that had been steadily building for the past two days.

Eventually, they fall away from each other, dazed from the kisses shared. Emma glances up at Nico, the smile on her lips mirrored on his.

“Wow,” he whispers, his hand lifting to delicately brush his fingers across Emma’s cheekbones, causing a light laugh to escape her.

They stand there for a moment, still wrapped in each other’s arms. Emma’s thoughts spin in her mind; questions about what this means and if this changes anything. But eventually, one voice takes over.

Embrace it, Emma.

She wasn’t sure if that voice was that of her best friend or of Paris or her own, but it didn’t matter who spoke. All that mattered was that she listened.

“Do you have anywhere you need to be tomorrow morning?” Emma asks, the words light with the crooked grin that twisted itself onto her lips. The smirk is quickly matched by Nico, this time the double entendre being anything but unintentional.

“I don’t. Why do you ask?” he says, his own voice teasing.

“Oh, there’s just this café right next door to my apartment that I think you might enjoy,” Emma nonchalantly replies, matching his taunt.

“Planning another brunch?”

“It opens pretty early. And people always say that first customers get the freshest food.”

“Breakfast then,” Nico says, his agreement to her anything but subtle offer painted clearly on his face. 

“Perfect,” Emma replies.

Nico leans forward, kissing Emma once more and if there was any question left in either of their minds, it was erased by the need coursing through their bodies. Nico pulls away, his arms falling from Emma’s frame – albeit reluctantly. He takes a single step back before offering his hand once again, one that is immediately accepted by Emma. Their fingers intertwine as Emma takes her place by Nico’s side. He looks down at her, his eyes bright.

“Lead the way.”

~*~*Day Four*~*~

The gentle morning sun rouses Emma from her slumber. The plush sheets brush against her bare skin, the warmth trapped within them comforting her, lulling her back into her dream. Or, more accurately, the dream of last night.

The brush of Nico’s hands against her skin, the strength of his hold on her hips, the feeling of his lips tracing her silhouette, the softness of his hair in between her fingers, his strong arms wrapped around her as they both fell asleep.

Arms that were no longer holding her.

Her brain slowly registers the emptiness surrounding her as she blindly reaches behind, hoping that her palm would land on the solid form of Nico. But when her hand lands on the softness of the sheets and solidness of the mattress, Emma’s eyes open.

She lifts her body upright, muscles protesting, still sore from last night’s activities. Her gaze dances around the studio apartment, finding it completely empty; only the fabric of her own clothes scattered across the floor.

Emma’s heart drops, the critical voice that had been kept dormant coming back in full force, assuming the worst.

He got what he wanted. He coerced himself into your bed and you were foolish enough to let him. And now that he accomplished what he set out to do, there was no reason for him to stick around.

The soft chime of the doorbell echoes around the apartment, cutting of the voice before it had a chance to berate her further. Emma sighs, lifting herself off the bed and grabbing the robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door She throws it on before walking down the stairwell towards the entrance door.

She isn’t concerned about who is waiting on the street. It was most likely a delivery person who mistook her door for the side entrance to one of the stores next to her. But when she swings the wooden door open, the French poised on her lips, she is silenced by the sight of Nico standing on the other side of the threshold, a bag hanging from his arm and two cups of coffee in his hand.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to take your keys and make you think you lost them or something,” he explains, the sheepish look gracing his features. Emma stares at him for a moment, her thoughts rearranging themselves at the realization that she was wrong and he didn’t simply abandon her.

“It’s alright,” she says, stepping to the side. Nico crosses through the doorway as Emma closes the door behind him. He lets her climb back up the stairs first before they both re-enter the apartment.

Nico breezes over to the small table in the kitchen, leaving Emma still standing bewildered near the entrance. She watches as he sets down the two coffee cups before fishing into the brown paper bag and removing a pair of eclairs.

“I probably should’ve waited for you because my French is terrible. Thankfully, the workers remembered you so I trust that they got your order right,” Nico explains, shooting a smile her way. “You must really like that place if they know your name after only three days.”

“Wild & The Moon has great food. I think I’ve stopped there every morning since arriving,” she says, walking towards him and taking a seat in one of the chairs. Nico settles into the opposite seat, that soft smile on his face.

“Well, I’m not going to be one to disagree with a pastry chef,” he laughs, his cheery demeanor breaking through the thin wall that Emma had hastily created around her heart when she woke up to find him missing. She returns his grin, although it is slightly half-hearted. She can see her hesitance register on Nico’s face but Emma doesn’t address it. Instead, she grabs the coffee he placed in front of her, taking a small sip.

“Is everything alright?” he asks.

“It’s perfect. Exactly what I always order,” Emma replies with a small shrug.

“That’s good to hear but it’s not exactly what I was asking.”

Emma looks back up at him, his eyes trained on her face. His emotions were painted so clearly onto his features; concern, confusion, and an inkling of fear. Emma sighs again, shaking her head slightly.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“It’s bothering you so it isn’t nothing,” Nico shoots back, the earnestness in his statement startling Emma. Nico hesitates before reaching his hand out, brushing his fingers against hers before intertwining their grip. “Tell me, please.”

Emma takes a breath, the words sticking in her throat, unsure whether to tell him the truth or to brush off his worry again. But she decides to embrace it – every emotion, the good and the bad.

“I thought you left me,” she whispers, looking back up at him. “Took off after I fell asleep because this – whatever this is – is casual. And that’s what happens with casual.”

Emma immediately regrets the words when she sees Nico’s face fall.

“Is that what you think about me?”

“It’s what my worst intentions thought,” Emma answers honestly. “I’m glad I was proven wrong though,” she continues, a hopeful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. One that Nico blissfully returns.

“Last night…” he begins, pausing to deliberate his words. “Last night was amazing. Really. But I want you to know that I loved hanging out with you before that. I don’t want you to think it was all a ruse to get in your pants.”

Emma wants to tell him that she didn’t think that but it would be a lie so she just keeps her mouth closed, listening intently to Nico instead.

“I really like hanging out with you,” he concludes, looking back at her.

“I do too,” Emma responds with a smile.

She doesn’t tell him that she thinks she’s falling for him, or at least could see herself falling for him. Because, while this connection may be pure and genuine, that didn’t erase the fact that this wasn’t going to last. She was leaving tomorrow, back to New York. He would leave soon – back to wherever it was that his job took him next.

Instead, they sit there in silence, eating their food and sipping their coffee. It is a silence filled with a sense of comfort but an overlay of sadness as well. This was likely it for them.

“Today is your last day in Paris, right?” Nico asks, breaking the silence by voicing the unavoidable truth.

“Yeah. My flight is tomorrow at 9am.”

“Anything you want to do for your last day?”

“Still want to hear me rant about French pastry?”

“I have to admit, it is pretty entertaining,” Nico laughs, that jovial sparkle in his eyes. “And I was serious; I like hanging out with you. I don’t have anywhere I need to be so why not spend the day with you?”

The butterflies start up again; both at Nico’s sweet words but also at the heated way that he is looking at her from across the table, his eyes dancing over her frame. His gaze makes Emma suddenly aware of the only thing that is separating her bare skin from his sight is the fabric of her robe. She smirks, the desire sparking again as she lifts herself up from the table.

“Well, I looked at my notes and I actually managed to hit all the shops I wanted to,” Emma muses, taking a few steps towards Nico. “So, maybe we could go to the Louvre.”

“See the Mona Lisa?” Nico asks, his body turning towards her as she walks closer.

“Although I hear that it can get insanely crowded.”

“A little claustrophobic, wouldn’t you say?”

“My hosts – the couple who owns this apartment – left a long list of tourist spots that are close by. Some gardens, some museums…” she continues, her hands toying with the bow holding her robe together.

“That sounds relaxing,” Nico responds with a small hum.

“But I also have to do laundry and pack and I would prefer to not leave that to the last minute.”

“Completely understandable.”

“So, I don’t know really know what we should do today,” Emma sighs, her body settling between Nico’s parted thighs, the tie of her robe now partially undone, the fabric falling off one of her shoulders. His hands reach out and a small shiver rushes through Emma’s body at the sensation of his fingertips grazing the back of her thighs.

“Maybe we should just stay in?” Nico playfully suggests, his hands dancing up and down her bare skin.

“And waste our last day together?” Emma teases. Nico smirks up at her, one hand moving to the front of her body, gently undoing the remaining tie before slipping beneath the fabric, his fingers grazing her hipbone.

“I’m sure we can find something to do to pass the time.”

~*~*A Year and A Half Later*~*~

“Is the Frasier ready to go?” Emma shouts into the kitchen, her voice startling the few customers waiting by the pick-up counter.

“It’s loaded in the back of your car with the macarons and the components for the mille-feuille,” her sous-chef April calls back. “I’m need to grab profiteroles from the racks and we should be good to go.”

“We have all four flavors of macarons?”

“Yes, boss. Everything is accounted for.”

“Good. Be ready to leave in less than ten minutes,” Emma calls, pushing through the swinging kitchen doors, walking behind the café’s main counter. She weaves her way through the two baristas working on orders towards the pastry display. Leaning down, her scan over the pastries, taking inventory of what is left and what need to be replaced. She is almost halfway through her task before a nudge on her shoulder pulls her attention away from the case. Emma glances up to see Morgan’s blue eyes looking at her from underneath her blonde bangs. Wordlessly, she hands Emma a cup filled with a latte.

“You work her too hard,” Morgan says, nodding towards the kitchen, her words referencing April.

“Nothing she’s not used to,” Emma says, taking a drink. “Trust me. The chefs at her school were likely a hundred times more terrifying than me.”

“I don’t know, you’re pretty scary when you’re stressed.”

“Stressed? Who says I’m stressed?” Emma replies, her eyes turning back to the pastry case. “We need to replenish the Pain au Chocolate as soon as possible. It’s one of our best sellers so those five will probably be gone by the end of the morning rush and we don’t want the customers waiting.”

“I’ll get Jacob on that when he’s done taking orders. And you’d be stupid if you weren’t stressed.”

Her words bring Emma’s attention to her best friend and co-owner, her brows downturned into a scowl.

“Don’t give me that look,” Morgan scoffs. “Only a year since our business opened and a professional hockey team has asked us to cater their charity brunch? This is huge. You should be freaking out, it’s okay. You don’t have to hold it together for appearance’s sake, at least not in front of me.”

“You look pretty calm,” Emma retorts.

“I screamed my lungs out in the walk-in fridge when I got in this morning.”

“You should’ve told me. We could have screamed together,” Emma laughed, taking another sip of her coffee as her and Morgan departed from behind the counter, sitting down at one of the small tables in the corner.  

“With nothing but the eggs and milk as our witnesses,” Morgan laughed. The two of them look out over the café, the sound of customers talking and the hiss of the milk steamers echoing around the space.

“This is insanity,” Emma sighs.

A year. A single year from the grand opening of their café, La Crème de la Crème, and they were already more successful than they could’ve imagined. And now, in a few minutes, Emma and April would be driving across the Hudson to cater for the New Jersey Devils charity brunch.

“If you meet the person that decided to take a chance on us, give them a giant kiss on the mouth from me,” Morgan says, her testament causing Emma to laugh.

“If you want to kiss a hockey player, you should come yourself.”

“Gotta make sure this place doesn’t burn down. But who knows, maybe you’ll fall madly in love with a hot stranger like you did the last time you went to a different city without me,” Morgan jokes. The reminder causes Emma to roll her eyes.

“Will you ever let that go?”

“Have you?”

The blush that invades Emma’s cheeks is all the answer Morgan needs. Yes, it had been a year since the café opened, another four months on top of that since Emma returned from her ‘research’ trip to Paris. And she would be lying if she said she didn’t find herself still thinking about the man she met there.

Nico. He still occupied a space in her mind, ever since that last kiss they shared as he helped her into the taxi the morning she left. It was hard to let him go even though she knew that it would probably be for the best if she could just forget about him.

“The backstock should last you through the morning. If it doesn’t, Kenneth is coming in at 1. April and I should be back before then but if not, he can run the kitchen until we arrive,” Emma says, finishing off her drink and lifting herself up from the table. “Remember to have Jacob stock the Pain au Chocolate.”

“We’ve got it covered here,” Morgan says, her smile calming Emma’s beating heart. “Just focus on being the coolest pastry chef, impressing all those important people, and bringing in new customers.”

Emma responds with a playful salute before disappearing back into the kitchen. April is waiting for her by the back door, black chefs coat on, the café’s name written in cursive script over her breast. After confirming everything was in the car, they both hop in and start the drive to Newark, New Jersey.

Emma sends a thank you to whatever power there was for making traffic light, the trip not taking nearly as long as Emma had suspected it would. They are soon arriving at the hotel, pulling up to the entrance. After a quick explanation of who they were and why they were there, a few hotel workers come out to assist them as they bring their food into the kitchens.

“I’m going to find the organizer, ask where they want us to set up. Just get everything ready to be assembled and then we will go from there.”

April gives Emma a small nod in acknowledgment, turning her attention to the boxes of food in front of her. Emma leaves her to it, following the signs to the ballroom. She walks through the open doors, finding the room decorated in the red and black – colors that she now knew to be the teams –tables filling the space around a small stage.

On one wall lined with banquet tables, she spies an elegant woman holding a clipboard talking to the hotel staff, who Emma was told were providing the rest of the food. She makes her way over, the conversation hitting her ears, confirming that this was the person she needed to speak to.

Emma stands off to the side, waiting for the discussion to conclude before stepping forward.

“Hello. I’m Emmaline Evans, the co-owner and pastry chef from Crème de la Crème,” she says, holding out one of her tattooed hands.

“Oh, yes!” the woman says, graciously accepting Emma’s handshake. “I’m so glad you made it. My name’s Nicole, I’m one of the people who helped organize this brunch. Are you all settled, everything good?”

“Yes, my sous-chef is in the kitchen right now getting the plates ready. I just wanted to introduce myself and say thank you for the opportunity. It means a lot for our new business.”

“Of course! Though, I should really introduce you to Jess. She is the one that came in telling us about this amazing café in Greenwich that we just had to get,” Nicole explains, her bubbly personality infectious, making a smile break out on Emma’s face.

“I look forward to meeting her. I’ll probably be out once everything is prepared, introduce myself to some of the other guests and check to make sure everything tastes alright.”

“Perfect! I wouldn’t expect anything else from a savvy business woman, neither will any of the guests. A lot of driven people here,” Nicole explains, before turning to face the banquet tables. “We have the traditional breakfast fare here and your table is over there,” she gestures to a table a short distance away. “We decided to keep the sweets a little separate from the rest.”

“Makes perfect sense,” Emma nods, taking the layout into memory. “Would you like us to delay bringing the food out so there is a space between the main course and the dessert?”

“Is that alright for you? I think that would be best.”

“Absolutely.”

“Amazing. You can bring out the food at, let’s say 11:30? We might still be in the middle of speeches and all that but that could work out because after we’ve wrapped up there, we can direct people to your delicious food.”

“Of course. I’ll go back and get everything ready. We’ll be out at 11:30.”

“Perfect. Thank you again!” Nicole exclaims and Emma is about to extend her hand for another handshake until Nicole sweeps her into a hug instead. Emma embraces it politely before pulling away and disappearing back to the kitchen. On the way, she sees the beginning of the crowd trickling in, her eyes glancing over the guests decked out in expensive dresses and suits.

This was a golden opportunity and she wasn’t going to waste it.

She breezes into the kitchen towards the corner where April had completely set up everything in the few minutes she was gone. Emma explains the timeline and they both set to work; April filling the profiteroles with their whipped cream center and Emma assembling the layers of the mille-feuille. April finishes first and sets about arranging the macarons and profiteroles on the platters provided before moving to cut the Fraiser into slices and placing each piece on their separate plate. Emma finishes assembling the mille-feuilles and glances at the clock.

“Alright, we’ve got a few minutes. Finish plating the Fraiser and bring those out first. I’ll take the macarons and profiteroles and then we can both bring out the mille-feuille.”

“Sounds good. Do you need any help with the platters?”

“No, I should be fine,” Emma says, leaning down to pick up the silver tray the macarons were placed on. “We’ve got the labels for everything, correct.”

“Yes, boss. Do you want me to bring those out first or last.”

“Last. We can arrange the table how we see fit and then label the plates instead of having to shuffle everything around.” Emma is about to leave the kitchen before she turns back to April, the platter resting on her shoulder. “You know you don’t have to call me boss.”

“Force of habit,” April laughs, her brown eyes sparkling as she looks up from the Frasier. “You can stop pretending that you don’t like it.”

“Ha-ha,” Emma utters a sarcastic laugh before leaving. She retraces her path to the ballroom, hearing the echo of an amplified voice guiding her steps.

Emma slips in, the tables now filled with guests, their attention turned to the front stage as she sees Nicole as well as few other beautiful women standing by the podium. She registers parts of their speech; happiness for how the season was going, excitement for what was coming, reminder of the charity they were here for, and of course a call for generosity in donating. Emma makes her way around the perimeter of the room, coming to the assigned banquet table before setting the platter down. She moves back catching the eyes of April walking in with the platter of Fraiser and directs her with a nod of her head.

A few trips later, Emma is standing in front of the table, her eyes gazing over the assortment of the food she was proudest of. It looked beautiful, the whites and golds and reds and pinks and browns of the desserts creating a stunning mosaic, each section labeled in the same elegant cursive that graced her chef’s jacket.

“I’m going to go back, clean up the kitchen and get ready for any food we might have to bring back,” she says, looking to April.

“Don’t you want to stay here? You’re the chef after all,” April asks from the other side of the table.

“I plan on making the rounds a little later, get a little more personal interaction. I have no doubt that you’ll make an excellent first impression of our company without me.”

Emma sees her words register in April’s mind, a smile gracing over her features before it shifts to serious, her body lifting to stand a little taller.

“I won’t disappoint you, boss,” April says, her words serious but punctuated with a small wink, causing Emma to playfully roll her eyes. She doesn’t give another response, departing the ballrooms. She is only a few steps out of the door when she hears the final announcement echo from the speakers.

“Now please enjoy some delicious pastries from Crème de la Crème Café.”

Hearing her company name announced along with the applause that followed – although she knew the cheer wasn’t directed towards her – made her heart leap. Everything was perfect so far; all that was left was for the guests to like the food.

Emma cleans, packing the equipment they brought into her car and assembling a few take-away boxes that she hoped she didn’t have to use. She leaves the kitchen, taking a quick stop in the bathroom to wash her hands and adjust her appearance, making sure not a hair was out of place. She takes a few deep breaths, straightening her jacket before moving back into the ballroom.

She takes in the sight of plates filled with her food on tables, the smiles on peoples faces and it makes her relax. Emma catches sight of April still manning the table, her smile never wavering as she hands out desserts, her lips explaining each delicacy. She catches Emma’s eye, sending her a wink before turning her attention back to the guests. Emma lets out a sigh before she gazes around the ballroom.

“Oh, there she is! Emmaline!” she hears a voice call, locating Nicole sitting at a table waving her hand. Emma smiles, weaving through the crowd until she reaches her.

“Everyone, this is Emmaline Evans. She’s the chef that created all these wonderful treats for us!” Nicole explains and Emma smiles, nodding her head to the other guests sitting there.

“How is everything tasting?”

“Delicious!” one of the gentlemen at the table says. “Why haven’t we heard about your restaurant before?”

“We actually opened a year and a half ago so we’re relatively new.”

“Well, you are sure to get some new customers if your food always tastes this good,” he laughs, extending his hand. “Erik.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Emma says, accepting his handshake.

“I can guarantee that the food is always this good,” another feminine voice sounds from across the table. Emma turns her attention to a brunette smiling at her. “Definitely worth the drive to Greenwich.”

“Oh, right! Emmaline, this is Jess. She’s the one that insisted we book your company,” Nicole explains, the words forcing Emma to extend her hand eagerly, Jess accepting it with grace.

“Thank you for the opportunity. It really means a lot to me and my co-owner Morgan, so thank you for taking a chance on us.”

“I knew it wasn’t going to be that much of a risk. I’ve been forcing Nate to drive me to New York on his days off so I can get your food,” Jess says, nudging the shoulder of the man next to her – who Emma can only assume is Nate. “You deserve way more recognition. And, when I heard about a small woman-owned business, I knew I had to give my support. Kind of what we do.”

The other women at the table laugh in agreement, causing another smile to break out on Emma’s face. She politely stays for a few minutes, answering queries about the food provided, the menu at the café, and other general questions. Slowly, her body registers the weight of someone’s eyes on her from across the ballroom. A lull in the conversation allows her to lift her head and look around.

When her eyes land on the source of the stare, her heartbeat falters in her chest.

It had been over sixteen months since she had last seen him but she swears she could recognize those gentle brown eyes and that flowing chestnut hair anywhere.

A few tables away sat Nico; the man that she met in Paris all that time ago. The man who enchanted her from the moment he sat with her at the café table. The man she never thought she would see again.

He was here.

Emma quickly snaps out of her trance, breaking his gaze and turning her attention back to the guests in front of her with a polite smile. But beneath her composure, her thoughts were as erratic as her heartbeat. She steals another glance back in Nico’s direction, finding him in a conversation with the young man next to him, that familiar dimpled smile on his face.

“Apologies,” Emma says, interrupting the conversation taking place around her. “I should greet the other guest, check in on them.”

“Oh, of course! We’ve kept you long enough,” Nicole speaks.

“You should go talk to out team leadership,” the man next to Nicole says – Jesper, she remembered. Emma watches as he twists in his seat, eyes roving over the room before stopping, his long arm pointing to a table. “Over there.”

The directionality of his gesture has Emma’s heart skipping again, the anxiety only heightened when she follows his point to the table where Nico sat.

“That’s our captain, Nico, and our two assistant captains, Jack and Ondrej, along with their partners and a few others,” Jesper says turning back to Emma, who quickly plasters a gracious expression on her face.

“I will make sure to stop there, thank you,” she says before departing, moving only to the table next to the previous.

She was going to keep her word – she just needed a little time.

Emma introduces herself to multiple guests, answering the same questions, and handing out more business cards than she could count. She navigates the ballroom, slowly making her way over to Nico’s table. She swears that every time she moves closer, she can feel Nico’s eyes landing on her more frequently. She manages to focus on the guests in front of her enough that no one suspects anything is amiss. But she knows that the effort is half-hearted at best. The other part of her brain is twisting itself in knots over the prospect of speaking to Nico again.

She never expected to see him. She certainly didn’t expect to see him at a work event. In the fantasies that she allowed herself to occasionally indulge in, they would always run into each other at a bar or in the park or even on the street. In those daydreams, he was single and the magic from Paris would still be there between them.

But now, Emma is forced to make her brain prepare for the possible reality that she was about to walk into: that he was here with an insanely beautiful woman on his arm and the romance in Paris was exactly what she feared it to be – temporary.

It didn’t make it any better that she would have to reckon all of those heartbreaking truths with a pleasant smile on her face; the shield of professionalism she was forced to maintain that could absolutely not crack.

 Emma concludes her previous conversation, taking a deep breath before turning towards the table she had been avoiding all afternoon. She walks up to the edge, glancing around the faces of the guests, trying not to let her eyes linger on one face in particular.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she speaks, calling their attention to her. “I’m one of the owners of Crème de la Crème and I just wanted to check in, see how everything was tasting.”

“It’s fucking fantastic!” the dirty blonde next to Nico exclaims, causing Nico’s head to turn with a glare and a hiss of ‘Jack!’. A blush invades his cheeks before the man – Jack – looks back towards Emma. “Sorry, I mean, it’s really, really good.”

Emma laughs gently at his words before speaking.

“It’s alright. I’m glad to hear you like it that much.”

“It really is delicious,” the stunning blonde woman next to Jack speaks. “Is your store located in Newark?”

“No, we’re actually located in Greenwich Village in New York. But this was an amazing opportunity for our business that we just couldn’t pass up.”

“That’s awesome. Do you normally cater?”

“We’re relatively new to the catering side of food service. We do provide food for smaller parties: birthdays, anniversaries, celebrations like that. This has been out biggest event yet so this was also a test for us, to see if we could handle it.”

“Well, I say you passed with flying colors!” the woman smiles. “Could I have your card? My sister would love this and her birthday is coming up.”

“Of course,” Emma says, her hand dipping into her pocket to retrieve a card.

“Actually, could I have two? I might slip one in this guy’s hockey bag as an anniversary reminder,” she laughs, nudging Jack’s shoulder.

“When have I ever not wooed you?” he laughs.

“I’m not saying you haven’t. This is just a subtle hint about what a few delicious macarons might do.”

Emma nods, grasping the two small slips of paper and extending them to her.

“Could I also have one?” an all too familiar accented voice requests.

Emma turns her attention to Nico, her eyes connecting to his. She doesn’t give a verbal response; just another nod of her head. She hands two cards off to Jack’s partner before turning to Nico, holding a business card out to him as well. Emma suppresses a shiver that threatens to run through her body as Nico’s fingers graze against hers as he takes the paper from her hand.

“Planning on surprising a special lady, as well?” Jack teases. The question is innocent when coming from his mouth but it stops Emma’s heart as she waits for the answer – preparing for the worst.

“If by special lady, you mean my mom when she flies in for the mom’s trip, then yes,” Nico jokes back, his eyes flickering back to Emma. “Besides that, no one else comes to mind.”

Emma lets out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding at Nico’s subtle admission; he wasn’t seeing anyone, at least not seriously. The other women at the table were with his teammates, not him.

“Could I ask where you learned how to cook?” another gentleman at the table asks, his voice turning Emma’s attention to him.

“Of course. I went to The French Pastry School in Chicago, which is one of the only schools that focuses exclusively on pastry creation,” Emma explains, her eyes darting towards Nico as she contemplates her next words. “But I was also blessed with the opportunity to travel to Paris and experience the authentic Parisian cuisine first hand. That trip inspired me in many ways.”

From the corner of her eyes, Emma watches as a smile tugs at Nico’s lips.

“I’ve been to Paris as well. It’s a beautiful city with amazing food.”

“Right, you were there a little over a year ago, with the NHL European press tour,” another guest says, providing answers to questions that Emma didn’t bother asking back then. He told her that he was there for work. That wasn’t a lie. She just didn’t know that this was his job.

“It was an amazing trip,” Nico replies, his eyes darting to Emma, the weight behind his words only noticeable by that recognizable sparkle in his irises.

Emma’s own smile graces her features. Their silent conversation reminded Emma of passing secret notes, communicating in a way that only the two of them could understand. The hope soared in her chest but she pushes it down in an effort not to get caught up in the moment. She excuses herself, sneaking one last quick glance over her shoulder at Nico before making her way over to April.

She forces herself to focus on the moment at hand, taking stock of the remaining food, the event dwindling down. Emma helps April carry the remaining leftovers into the kitchen, instructing her to pack up the food and load it into the car before helping the hotel staff clean the few remaining dirty dishes.

Emma makes her way back into the ballroom, gathering the remaining business cards from their table, as well as the labels before helping the staff pick up the plates scattered on the tables.

She is absentmindedly gathering the plastic plates into a stack, reaching out to grab the last plate at the table. But before she can, it is taken by a strong hand before it is extended to her. Emma lifts her eyes to thank whoever it was in front of her but her voice catches when her eyes connect with Nico again.

“So, Paris, huh?” he asks, the question loaded with a myriad of emotions that Emma couldn’t even begin to place. She takes the plate from his hand with a smile.

“Yeah, it was a really wonderful experience.” 

“I bet.”

“Ate a lot of good food, saw some beautiful sights,” she continues, a mischievous smirk appearing on her face, her eyes never leaving Nico’s. “Met this really great guy.”

Emma swears that she can see the sigh escape Nico’s chest – the potential fear leaving him as his body relaxes, his tentative smile shifting to match her grin.

“I was worried you didn’t remember me,” he confesses. Emma’s eyes soften at his admission, her head slightly shaking in disbelief.

“Did you really think I’d forget?” she murmurs, her own words just as much of a confession as Nico’s. She watches his brown eyes shift, the confusion dancing within them.

“At the table…”

“I had to remain professional,” she explains, gently cutting him off. “Talking about a whirlwind romance I had with the team captain in front of potential clients – some of which are his teammates – isn’t really the way to get rehired.”

“Good point,” Nico laughs, the sound echoing around the almost abandoned ballroom, his hand lifting to run through his hair. His chuckle pulls a giggle from Emma’s own lips as she shakes her head again.

Their laughter dwindles until the silence covers them again. Emma can’t seem to tear her eyes away from him and it is clear that Nico feels the same. The two of them stand there, taking in the sight of the other, seemingly convincing themselves that they were really standing in front of each other. That this wasn’t just a fantasy.

“In truth,” Emma says, breaking the fragile silence, “You’re hard to get over. No one I’ve met since Paris has even come close.”

The broad smile that appears on his face makes Emma’s happiness increase, the subtle admission that she was also currently unattached understood by Nico.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” he tells her, the words bringing a small teasing laugh from Emma.  

“Didn’t know you missed me that much,” she jokes.

Her words seem to catch Nico off-guard. Her green eyes follow Nico’s movements as he reaches into the interior pocket of his suit jacket, fishing out his phone. His fingers move, tapping on the screen and scrolling until he pauses. A smile tugs at his lips as he stares at whatever was on his phone before he turns the device towards her.

Emma swears her heart skips for the hundredth time that day as she takes in the image on the screen. It’s the picture they took that night in Paris – the night everything changed. Her eyes dance over the screen, looking at the ease in which her body was resting against Nico’s, the way his arm was wrapped around her frame, the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the background.

“You kept it,” she whispers.  

“Of course, I did,” Nico responds with just as much tenderness. Her eyes flicker back up to the man in front of her, the look in his eyes an echo of the one from that same night. She watches as he hesitates, seemingly debating the words he was about to say. Whatever doubts he had, they apparently weren’t enough to stop him as he speaks again. “I don’t know if I ever missed anyone as much as I missed you.”

If her heart was beating erratically before, it practically stopped at Nico’s gentle words. The desire, the yearning, the emotions hanging from every syllable hit Emma like a freight train, his need bringing forth her own. A need that she tried – desperately – to get rid of for months because she thought she would never see him again.

But he was here. He was real. And he missed her.

“I missed you too,” she admits, the confession not feeling dangerous or terrifying. Instead, it felt as simple as breathing. It felt as easy as it always did when she was next to him. It felt like Paris.

Emma and Nico look at each other, the truth of their admission floating around them, seemingly enveloping them in that love-struck haze that they existed in months ago. In a different city. In a different country.

“I don’t know if this is way too forward but I’d like to take you on a date. Or, I guess another date. If that’s alright with you?” Nico asks, his words still hesitant. Emma responds with a gentle smile.

“That sounds perfect.”

“I can’t promise that it will be as magical as Paris though,” he laughs.

Emma’s expression falters a little at his words, the fears from Paris returning along with the joy. Their reunion felt enchanting right now but maybe the shock of seeing each other again after all those months was the only thing causing this sensation. Maybe after the moment died, the worry that invaded her mind in Paris would be proven true: that it was just the City of Love that fueled their connection.

Embrace it. All of it.

It is that small voice of bravery and vulnerability that sounds, the declaration echoing in her mind. Emma takes a deep breath, summoning the courage she felt in France and letting it fill her body, letting her heart guide her actions. She reaches out towards Nico, letting her hand creep closer to his, her fingers brushing over his skin.

The energy that surges between them when their fingers intertwine is powerful. Those fireworks sparkle stronger than anything before; stronger than the lights about them, stronger than all the lights on the Eiffel Tower. That electricity has Emma looking up at Nico, seeing the same emotions dancing on his face. That touch was proved a fact that they knew in their hearts to be true but their heads still doubted.

That this – whatever it was, whatever they shared those months ago… it wasn’t temporary. It wasn’t the city. This was real.

“Paris wasn’t the magical part.”

tags: @tkachvkmatthew @m00nlightdelights @cixrosie SIGN UP FOR MY TAGLIST HERE

[thisblogisaboutabook]

The Fated Truth

Azriel x Reader

Truth-Teller’s origin story. A multi-pov oneshot.

A/N: this story came to me after listening to the songs seven, vigilante shit, it’s nice to have a friend, and my tears ricochet by taylor swift.

warnings: attempted sa, language, suggestive language, parental abuse, violence, main character death

The Angel

-Ladies always rise above -

Remove the dagger from his heart.

-Ladies know what people want-

Wipe the blood from the corner of your kohl lined eyes.

-Someone sweet-

Spit on the bastard.

-Someone kind-

Swipe at the next overgrown male.

-Someone fun-

Hit your mark, swing around, drive your dagger into the brute on your six.

“Well, shit.” you think to yourself as a group of ten overgrown bats rush toward you. Siphons glowing.

The irony isn’t lost on you that yet another thing they withheld from you would contribute in damning their very existence. A female with siphons was considered absurd and absolutely out of the question, it wasn’t your place - yet this incontrolable blast of raw killing power begged to differ.

One moment those pricks were running toward you and the next, they were ashes in the wind.

Looking at the dead females around you, pure rage boils within. Your insides could be cooked at this point for all you know. Not a single feeling but uncontrollable rage.

A gasp breaks the silence. One of the females is still alive. Running to her, her eyes filled with panic, breaths rapid and shallow. You lean down and whisper to her before unsheathing your dagger and holding it up. Her eyes widen in terror but not at you - behind you. You turn to look.

“Azri-“

The blast of power hit before you could finish saying it - your mate’s name - your final breath.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Journal

Nine year old Y/N

“I made a new friend! His name is Azriel. He’s like me! He’s two years older than me and can’t fly but he still has his wings. I wish I still had mine, we could learn to fly together. Azriel has burn scars too but his are on his hands instead of his back like mine.

He’s really quiet but it’s okay, I talk and he listens! He has shadow powers though. I don’t think I’m supposed to say this but they’re really cute! One of them followed me home from my chores today.

I have to go now. Dad is yelling. I think he’s mad again.”

11 year old Y/N

“Father hit me again last night. I got upset and my power hiccuped. I asked him for a siphon and he locked me in the cellar for asking. I have bruises that hurt really badly but I’m okay.

Azriel saw me this morning. I tried to hide the bruises but he notices everything. I cried and he listened to me. Sometimes I think he’s the only person who sees me.”

13 year old Y/N

“One of father’s friends came over two nights ago - they were drinking. I had to refill their mugs of ale and the friend grabbed me inappropriately. Father laughed. When he left the room his friend pulled me into his lap and his hand drifted below my waist. I was scared and my power flickered, throwing me backward and flipping the chair over with him in it.

The blast broke his arm and nose. I don’t feel bad.

I tried telling father what happened but he didn’t listen. He locked me in the cellar from that night until this morning.

One of Azriel’s shadows found me and picked the lock. Father either forgot he locked me away or didn’t care because he never came to check on me or give me food. I found a canteen of water on one of the shelves though.

Azriel retrieved me as soon as his shadow notified him. He took me back to Rhysand’s Mother’s cabin and she fed me. Azriel stayed by my side as I took a bath - there were even bubbles. I’ve never had a bath with bubbles before. Azriel saw my scars peaking over my towel after I climbed out of the bath and instinctively clenched his hands. I took them in my hands and kissed them. Our scars prove our strength. He tells me mine are beautiful but his are too. All of him is.

He’s my best friend.”

15 Year Old Y/N

“I spent the day with Azriel yesterday. Sometimes we sneak away and train. He teaches me self-defense maneuvers and even some Illyrian fighting techniques. My powers have been growing a lot lately too. I am still not allowed siphons though. It’s getting harder to contain but training with Azriel serves as an outlet.

I got into a fight with father again two nights ago. He threw a knife at me. I avoided it but if it hit me, it would have landed in my chest. He called me an “ungrateful whore just like my mother.” I was told that mother died in childbirth but sometimes I wonder if it’s not true.

When he locked me in the cellar this time, I let out a blast of power. It ripped a shelf off the wall and down with it came a dusty box I’d never seen before. I opened it to find a beautiful obsidian-hilted knife and a note that said:

For my beautiful babe. May the light of truth always find you, even in the darkest places. I will always love you. -Mother.

I can’t believe it was there all of this time. It broke my heart to know that she had been locked away in the cellar too. The only thing she was able to give me. She loved me. Those words meant so much. Someday I will be reunited with her in the realm beyond and she’ll share her truth with me.

Oh I almost forgot!! Azriel snuck into my room this evening and I showed him the knife. He held me while I cried tears of joy and sadness over this gift from my mother.

He’s going to train me in wielding it.”

16 Year old Y/N

Father was away on a training exercise last night so I went to a party at Rhysand’s cabin. It was fun but Morrigan was there. She’s so beautiful and I think Azriel likes her. He looks at her like she’s the brightest star in the sky.

He’s my best friend and I have loved him for a long time but sometimes, I feel an ache in my chest. Maybe I love him as more than a friend? I left the party early and trained with my hunting knife alone at our usual spot. He didn’t come looking for me.

This morning he stopped by and we practiced together. He seemed sad for a bit but I didn’t press. He tends to prefer more physical methods of expressing his feelings. He was still sullen afterward so I brought him back to my house for tea. We laid in bed together for hours. I know it’s frowned upon but it’s never gone past holding each other. He needs touch as much as I need his listening ear.

I think I’m going to ask him to spend the night.

17 year old Y/N

Yesterday was my 17th birthday. Father didn’t pay any mind to it as always. He says it’s “a reminder of what I did to my mother.” He drank himself into oblivion which left me free to leave the house. He probably never realized I left.

Sometimes I want to tell him that I know his secret - that there was more to her death than my birth but I know better. The following blow up would be catastrophic. At this point, my power has been growing so much that I think… I think I’m more of a danger to him than he is to me.

But… something big happened. Azriel took me flying. We looked at the stars and he flew me far north to see the Aurora. It was almost as beautiful as him. I may or may not have cried tears of joy.

Az playfully kissed my tears away but then something happened - what started as friendly kisses sparked a flame within me and I… I noticed a shift in his scent too. We locked eyes and he kissed my lips. Hard, fervently, like maybe he sees me as something more. We landed in a clearing under the Aurora and kissed for hours.

I love him. I love him wholeheartedly.

18 year old Y/N

Something happened last night! Az and I have spent a lot of nights together recently. Any time father is away, he comes over and we lay in bed kissing and talking for hours until his shadows inevitably lull me to sleep. But last night, I kissed his jaw and down his neck - he grabbed my wrist and growled!! Not a scary growl but a… possessive growl. He told me that if we started this, he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

So…. I kept kissing him. Lower. And Lower. And, well… the rumors about wingspan are true.

We had each other over and over all night, until Cassian and Rhys came knocking on my door looking for him.

18 Year old Y/N part two:

Father has hardly been around. He’s been visiting other camps. I’m thankful for the break from him and especially thankful for the time I’ve spent with Azriel. We’ve spent countless hours entangled with each other over the past few months. My power has been stirring a lot, it’s still growing. Training hasn’t been enough so this physical outlet between Azriel and I has been a lifeline. I can’t get enough of him. He told me he loved me - and I knew this time it was different. He truly loves me and not just as his friend. He knows that I love him too.

But things have also been trying… Morrigan has visited a few times recently and he’s still so enamored by her. Honestly, I get it. But it still hurts. Sometimes I want to say something about it but I don’t want to cause problems. There’s a rumor that she slept with Cassian a couple of years ago and things have been different between Azriel and Morrigan ever since. He broods more than ever when she’s around.

Maybe I need to fuck him senseless, until all he can think about is me.

Just kidding, but seriously.

19 Year Old Y/N

“I have a secret.

A really big, life altering secret.

Azriel is my mate. I don’t know if he knows but last night - things were really passionate, when we came together, that golden thread people talk about, it just… SNAPPED for me.

Things have been really bad with father lately and there have been more wing clippings happening. My heart hurts for the girls. I used to feel sad because I never had a chance to touch the skies (until Azriel learned to fly and carried me into them) - but to have been able to fly for so many years and lose the ability. I couldn’t imagine. Those males deserve to suffer.

Father made a comment recently saying that he gave me a ‘gift’ by cutting off and burning my wings as a child. It made me furious - my power slipped. It destroyed most of our living room furniture and half our kitchen table. I could scent the fear in him when it happened. I think if he wasn’t such a coward - he would have killed me. I have hardly seen him since.”

20 Year old Y/N

“Azriel is taking me to a formal party at another camp! I can’t wait. Rhysand’s mother even made me a dress for it. It’s the most beautiful clothing I’ve ever owned. She also added a hidden sheath for my knife.

I just finished getting ready - I feel like a shooting star. I’ve never felt so… so powerful and gorgeous. My eyes are lined with kohl and my hair is braided with silvery strands woven in.

Tonight is the night I’m telling Azriel. I’m nervous, so, so nervous, but he deserves to know that we’re mates.

Morrigan will be at the party too. I really hope I’m not making a mistake by telling him tonight. I know he still cares for her so I will wait until after the party and it’s just the two of us in the sky before telling him. Maybe he’ll take me to look at the Aurora again.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The Survivor

The infamous Shadowsinger made his way to her - approaching slowly, trembling, two palms up in the air as if to placate her.

He knelt down to the female who cried out in a blood curdling scream of pain and fear.

“P-pl-please don’t!! Don’t hurt me!”

“I’m here. You are safe.” The Shadowsinger choked out.

She didn’t understand. Why would he kill that female? She was only trying to help.

“Y-yo-you ki-killed h-her.” She cried out right before everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Shadowsinger

Devastation. Pure devastation threatened to rip Azriel to shreds. What the hell happened in a matter of hours?

He’d barely seen Y/N at the dance. She’d arrived to the party with all eyes on her. She held her head high, wearing her scars proudly. He couldn’t help but admire how she let them shine tonight. He’d walked in with his hand on her back his scarred skin to her scarred skin. It wasn’t a flaw at all, but a lovely match. They were beautiful together.

Tonight was the night he would ask her to move in with him. He was now making a small salary - enough to buy a little cabin for the two of them. It was time for her to get the hell away from her horrid father. He planned to take her to view the aurora that she loved so much - and present her with a special gift - her very own siphons. She was the strongest Illyrian female he knew - really she was stronger than any Illyrian he knew aside from maybe him, Rhys, and Cassian. She’d struggled with her power and the misogynistic Illyrian bastards in Windhaven refused to allow her or any female such a privilege.

He’d worked out a plan with Rhys, who convinced the smith that crafted the siphons that he was going to try his hand at wearing siphons one more time - claiming he had a new method of siphoning his power through them that would prevent shattering. While they both knew it was bullshit and the siphons would never work for Rhys - they would then gift them to Y/N without raising suspicion.

Mor was at the dance tonight. He had gone over to visit with her and shared his plans for tonight with her. She squealed and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek and a huge hug, requesting a celebratory dance. They’d gone out on the dance floor for a couple of songs and when he pulled away to steal a dance with Y/N she was gone.

He’d searched the party through when a couple of males burst through the door - yelling of a female going crazy and murdering local villagers.

Az immediately vacated the party to take down the assailant - sending another partygoer to alert Rhys and Cassian who were currently bedding a set of twins in one of the suites.

He was taken back when he landed at the site of the attack. The carnage was brutal with blood coating the snowy ground, littered in dead males and females. His heart nearly stopped when he realized, at the center of it all, there she was. Y/N holding her hunting knife over a severely injured female.

Stunned by the sight, Azriel prepared to send a wave of power out and knock the knife from her hand. Right as the power readied itself for Azriel to fire, she turned and looked at him. Her eyes met his and snap. His body jolted - a golden thread between him and the blood splattered beauty before him - the surge caused his arm to jerk and a much more powerful blast emitted from his siphons. He missed his target. For the first time in his life, he missed it. Instead of the knife, the deadly blast of power hit her.

His mate. His best friend. His equal. His eternity - ripped away in a second.

Everything after that was a blur. His only memories of those moments played on a constant reel in his head flashing images of the injured girl screaming “you killed her!!!!”, collapsing on top of Y/N’s lifeless body, screaming to the mother or any other deity that may listen - begging for her chest to rise and fall again, and then four strong hands pulling him off of her before everything went black and his brothers voice calmed his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~

Days later Azriel woke up from whatever sedation Rhys had put him in. When he woke, Cassian was by his side. It was all of a minute before the memory came flooding back.

Azriel thrashed only to find he’d been restrained.

“Brother..” Cassian said firmly.

“Brother!” he yelled

Azriel’s wrists and ankles were on fire as he thrashed. He had to get to her, had to.

Finally Azriel cried out “Y/N!!! Y/N!!!!”

“My mate! Where is she!? WHERE IS SHE!?” he screamed and cried, thrashing against the restraints with all of his might.

Everything went dark again.

“Az…..” Rhys spoke softly into his mind

Azriel didn’t have the strength to scream or yell in this space of sedation. He could only whisper “where is she?”

Silence filled the void of his mind before Rhys spoke. “She’s gone, Az.”

Devastation flooded through him, filling him completely, making that one sided bond reverberate every ounce of emotion back to him.

Rhys waited patiently, sending soothing waves of darkness into his mind. Knowing Azriel well enough to wait until he was ready to send a thought back.

“Why, Rhys? Why did she do it?”

Again, that damned silence as Rhys paused.

“If I show you now, I’ll have to keep you under for longer, Az. You’re a danger to yourself right now and this… it’s heavy, brother.”

“Do it” he gritted.

Azriel’s mind became entranced in a vision. Before him a massacre. He was seeing through the eyes of a frightened female, eyes bleary from sobbing.

A large group of males had corralled several females into a circle, some as young as five or six. The males all carried sharp objects ranging from sickles and scythes to swords and axes.

A male stepped forward - Y/N’s father - who spoke:

“Females of Illyria have not served us well in many years. They forget that their purpose is to care for us, maintain our homes, and cater to our physical needs. Instead, they insult us by wasting time and energy on training - as if our protection is not enough? Young females smuggle herbs into our camps that delay their bleed so they can fly where they please, whoring around with whomever they please. These behaviors reflect negatively on all of Illyria, leaving us to appear weak to enemies.”

And then the bloodshed began. The males ran at the females, corralling them in closer and closer. Butchering wings and brutalizing any female who dared fight back. The screaming, gods awful screaming, pierced the air.

Male screams suddenly burst out - a blast of power knocking ten of them on their asses.

And there she was, in her resplendent glory.

“Hello boys.” She smirked.

Y/N’s father stepped forward. “My traitorous daughter, and dressed like a slut too. Shall we show them what happens to women who don’t obey.”

“Oh yes, ladies, my father took my wings when I was four. He burnt the stumps too. See these scars?” She turned around briefly with a wave to her back. “Someone I love helped me realize how beautiful they are, a stark reminder of what I can overcome.”

She paused, looking to the females as she addressed her father:

“So yes, father, perhaps this is the fate of disobedient females - but allow me the honor of showing YOU the fate of males who think they can steal a females power.”

-They say looks can kill and I might try-

Her piercing eyes again met her father as she threw a hand out, sending another blast of power - a death blow - turning him to ash in the wind.

Before any of the males could react, she sent another larger blast, creating an opening near the most vulnerable of the females.

“RUN! Those of you who can fight - you may stay. Those of you who are unable - there is no shame in leaving now! Seek shelter!”

The females nodded toward a teenage girl, signaling her to gather the youngest females and ran off with them. Any males that tried stopping them were turned to ash.

“Ladies, show them who we are!” Y/N cried.

-The ladies simply had enough-

They were outnumbered, so terribly outnumbered. Some females had died before Y/N arrived - bleeding out from the butchering of their wings but the few remaining females fought bravely. Because of their lack of training, the males easily overtook many of them but Y/N led them bravely, valiantly, taking them out as best as she could.

As the female numbers lessened Y/N cried out for the females to evacuate, to seek healers. The remainder of the females fled aside from two females (one of which this visions point of view was from) who appeared to have more training than the others.

Y/N looked to them giving a knowing look seemingly saying “give them hell.” They adjusted their stances into that of the most fearsome warriors, and took on the remaining males as more and more fled in.

Y/N’s power was like nothing they’d ever seen. She took down male after male.

Before she could react, two males approached from behind taking out the other female and knocking out the vision of the female whose mind Rhys had gleaned into.

As the female blacked out, the vision faded away. Silence once again filled the air for several minutes before Azriel said:

“But.. she was holding a knife over the female. I don’t understand.”

Rhys answered in a heartbreakingly soft tone

“I can show you, brother. But this will be hard to see. Are you sure?”

Azriel replied firmly, “show me.”

Rhys hesitated before continuing. But then the vision resumed as the female regained consciousness:

Her eyes were so blurry. She was hurting terribly but managed a gasp. Around her, all of the males were dead and the bodies of their fallen sisters painted the snow red. Emotion flooded through her, she couldn’t move. As her vision cleared further, she saw her. The female who fought so bravely for them.

Y/N saw her and ran over. The blood caking her braid causing panic. The trauma of this night was too much - the blood so triggering. Y/N sensed the fear and whispered “I am here. You are safe now. Look at my eyes, not around you, not at the blood on me, just my eyes.” The female tried but couldn’t look away from the blood in her hair. “I’m going to bring my knife out and cut the braid. Do not be afraid.” Y/N once again unsheathed her knife, lifting it, when loud wings flapped in. The injured female couldn’t get words out, her only signal to Y/N, a wide eyed look of panic.

Y/N turned around - breathed out “Azri-“ just as that fatal blow of power hit her.

“STOP!” Azriel cried out in his mind. It was too much.

Azriel’s body began convulsing as a mixture of rage, heartbreak, and panic flew through him. “I KILLED HER. I KILLED HER. MY MATE. MY MATE. MY MATE.”

Rhys had no choice but to send out another wave of sedation to his brother.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next several weeks were spent in and out of sedation. Rhysand had found that Y/N’s father had been planning the attack for months, perhaps even longer. The camp was chosen for the first attack because of the party - a distraction to lessen the chances of interference from outsiders.

He planned to carry out more attacks throughout Illyria in coming months. Had it not been for Y/N, more would have happened. Her heroic actions prevented so many more losses than just the ones that were saved that night.

Azriel stayed bedridden for months - only leaving when Cassian and Rhys nagged him enough that it wasn’t worth the energy to refuse them. One day Rhys brought in a box, inside the box, Y/N’s knife and a journal. “She would have wanted you to have this.”

Azriel’s chest broke at the sight. Her mothers knife, the knife they’d spent hundreds of hours training with. He almost refused it but it felt like a piece of her. A reminder of her goodness, of the mate he lost.

That night he laid it under his pillow - an odd comfort as he read through the journal. The journal unveiling that she knew they were mates. His heart cracked further knowing that the reason she’d stepped out that night was likely to get some air after she saw him with Morrigan. “Stupid.” His inner thoughts cried out to him. How could he have been so blind?

He lay awake for half the night as he read through her journal - he sobbed for hours until his shadows finally lulled him to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Truth-Teller

“Azriel” a soft voice whispered.

“Azriel” the lovely voice whispered again.

He was dreaming.

He tried to whisper her name but couldn’t speak.

“I don’t have much time, I need you to listen.”

He again attempted to speak but no sound came. He nodded his head.

A flash of light illuminated his mind and there she was. Somehow even more beautiful than she’d been - if that were possible. Her form illuminated with an incandescent glow, face full of light - a light that only came from insurmountable joy and happiness. And behind her, behind her were stunning golden feathered wings. An angel, his angel, stood before him… with six glowing siphons.

“Azriel, please do not cry for me. I am at peace. This was always my destiny. The lovely truth of my life was that all of the pain led me to you, I found a love, a friendship, that so few experience. Every step led me to where I am now and this afterlife is beautiful. The truth of life is that fate is inevitable.”

She waved a hand and out stepped more winged females. The females who died in the attack.

“What happened was not an accident, it was fate. You could not have changed the outcome. When you sent your power out toward me and the bond snapped, my power shot through the bond into you, reflecting back to me. You only sent out a small blast, the fatal blow came from my refracted power.”

Azriel’s eyes widened at the revelation. His heart still completely shattered but the guilt slightly lessened.

“When you sealed my fate it trapped a piece of my soul in the knife. I am forever bound to Truth-Teller. When you carry truth-teller you carry a piece of my power, of me, with you. Though, I will be with you regardless, as a part of me will always rest…” she held a delicate hand to her heart, “right here.”

His mind raced. Truth-Teller. What she’d named her knife after the truth of her mother was unveiled with it.

“I must go now, Azriel.” She waved an arm again to her fellow angels. “I am the keeper of the Mother’s gate and this is my legion. This was always my destiny - this and to love you. I will keep the bastards out and someday, someday far from now, I will hold the gate open for you.

Until then, may the truth set you free my love.”

A beautiful woman resembling Y/N stepped forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her mother. The angels all nodded to Azriel in confirmation.

“My precious mate, I will love you for eternity.” Y/N whispered as she shot toward the sky - right into the most vibrant aurora he’d ever seen.

~~~~~~~~~~

Truth-Teller

500 Years Later

Azriel still thought of her every damn day, Truth-Teller never leaving his side. His North Star, the angel guiding him through life. He never told his brothers - didn’t know how to explain how that broken mating bond glowed inside him whenever his intuition failed. She’d guided him in her own way all of these years.

Leading up to the war with Hybern the tug became stronger and stronger. A warning of the strife to come.

For the first time since the night Rhys brought him her journal and Truth-Teller, she reappeared to him.

“Azriel.” Her melodic voice whispered, a sweet song serenading his soul.

“Azriel, I don’t have much time.” that honeyed voice whispered.

In the same fashion as last time, he couldn’t speak. Managing only to nod.

“I have carefully pulled the strings of fate as much as I am capable. A war is coming with a fate that I am unable to divulge. The Mother has allowed me to share just this:

“The fawn who sees carries the truth. When the time comes, you will know.”

Azriel furrowed his brows with confusion.

Y/N smiled softly, outshining any star in the sky, more captivating than the spirits of Starfall. “The truth will set you free. Do not fear loving again.”

He fought and fought, trying to speak, thrashing against the walls of his mind he was able to mutter three words to her.

“I love you.”

She placed a hand on her heart.

“I know, my love.”

Spreading those magnificent wings, she shot from his mind, the void filling with the echoes of her song.

“Until eternity reunites our souls.”

[cameronspecial]

Hello sweetheart, could you write something for Zach MacLaren based on the song "Call It What You Want" by Taylor Swift or how Zach would declare himself to the reader? It's okay if you don't, thank you very much in advance <3

They Can Call You What They Want

Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Masterlist

“There is no way you are dating Zach MacLaren. He is the most popular soccer player on campus and you are just some nobody. It’s creepy that you have a picture of him as your wallpaper,” Jenny critiques from over Y/N’s shoulder. Jenny has the mentality of a tween and everyone knows it. Y/N thought that university meant bullies were long out of her sight, but at last, Jenny had other plans for her. Y/N hides her phone back in her pocket, “I don’t care what you say. I know what is true.” Y/N wants to believe her words are true, but she can feel Jenny’s disbelief seeping into her DNA. 

———

Zach opens the door with a massive grin on his face. He loves playing soccer, yet when it takes him away from his girl, he isn’t that fond of it. Her empty look not changing at the sight of him tells him that something is wrong. His arms find her shoulders to bring her to his chest. “What’s wrong, Baby?” he questions, kissing her temple. She shakes her head, “Nothing is wrong. I promise. How was the game?” “Come on. I know that isn’t true. What’s wrong?” he prods. He pulls her back so that he can look her in the eyes. She finally relents, “It’s just something Jenny said about how I couldn’t be dating you. I’m so tired of people calling me a liar.” “Oh, Baby. I’m sorry people are like that. You know I’m okay with our relationship going public,” he proposes. She pulls away, “It’s okay. I don’t need to prove myself to them.” He can sense she needs a change of topic and points to a box in the middle of the room. “Look at what I got.”

“Is that what I think it is?” she asks, rushing to look at it closer. It is. He got the Nugget, a fort-building kit she saw on Instagram from Costco. He chuckles at her excitement, “I did. I was hoping you’d like it. Do you want to open it?” She lets out a squeal and gets to tearing into the box like a rabid animal. 

———

They built their fort and decided to sleep in their castle creation. Their giggles under the cushions turned to quiet snores from Y/N. Her head rests on Zach’s chest, being soothed by the rise and fall of his chest. He ruminates about what she said and he could see how much it affected her. It becomes his mission to figure out how to make her feel better. It is all he can think about as he lets slumber pull him into its grasp. 

———

Y/N is standing at the Quad waiting for Zoey to meet her after class. Her eyes dart up from her phone and Zach’s tall stature is like the light of a lighthouse guiding her attention to him. It looks like he is walking right toward her, but she expects him to change course a few feet away. He doesn’t. Instead, he walks to her, standing right in front of her with a glowing smile. “Hi, Baby,” he greets, giving her a kiss on the cheek. She pulls away in shock, “What are you doing? We are at school.” 

“So, I can’t kiss my girlfriend? Baby, I’m tired of having to stop myself from kissing you. So is it okay if I give you kisses at school?”

She giggles at how cute that was, “Of course it is.” “Hey, I got you something,” he informs, pulling out a small box from his pocket. She can tell it’s a jewellery box because of how fancy it is. She opens the box to find a silver necklace with a charm of his first initial on it. It is littered with tiny diamonds and she loves it. “Zach, this is amazing. Thank you. Could you put it on for me, please?” she turns, pulling her hair to one shoulder so he can put it on. He puts it on and kisses the skin right under the chain of the necklace. “This isn’t because I own you. I just thought you would like it,” he tells her. She turns back around, “I know. It’s because you know me.” They smile at each other and he pulls her into a mind-melting kiss. His forehead presses against hers as he pecks her one final time. “They can call you what they want, but I’m going to call you mine.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

[serafilms]

song 4! sweeter than fiction (taylor swift) + remus lupin (spotify wrapped event)

seen you lost in a crowd, seen your colours fade, wish i could make it better, someday you won’t remember, this pain you thought would last forever and ever

The air was cold last night. You feel it when you open your window and the breeze pierces your skin, your mouth twisting into a frown. This isn’t good for Remus, whose body temperature is high enough as a human, and even higher as a wolf. He would have been freezing last night. And very agitated.

Scanning the grounds you can see from your window, you don’t see the telltale werewolf or his three companions. It’s still early morning, but you know that he usually returns around now. Madam Pomfrey must already have him.

You don’t waste time in pulling on your shoes and slipping out the room, leaving the snoozing figures of your roommates behind. The common room is empty, and it’s still a few minutes before 6am, but you’re willing to take the risk of nobody finding you until curfew is lifted.

It’s one minute past six according to the clock on the wall in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey gives you a raised eyebrow but says nothing as she leaves the room and you approach the only bed with its curtains drawn.

“Remus?”

There’s a groan in response. You pull open the curtains and slip inside.

Remus Lupin deserves the world. Which is why seeing him broken and battered, with bruises and scratches all over his arms and face, makes your heart break.

"Hi Rem."

He manages a half smile at you, but says nothing. On a better day, he might have quipped a joke, or called you a nickname, but today is anything but a good day.

"How do you feel?" You murmur, as you sit beside him and brush your fingers over his hair.

This time he replies, "Like shit."

You survey him as his voice seems to waiver, and suddenly his hand comes up to his face to rub at his eyes. It comes away wet with tears, and you don't hesitate to grab it, rubbing your thumb over the edge of his palm.

Remus inhales deeply, as his face contorts, and you swear your heart splits in two as more tears slip down his face. Your other hand comes up to wipe them away, and you lean in to kiss his cheek.

"I always think it'll get better," he cries, "each time I turn. But it never does."

Tears begin to gather in the corners of your own eyes, and you squeeze his hand a little tighter. You want to tell him that it will get better, that everything will be okay, but you want more than anything for him to believe it, and you can't seem to find the words. So instead, you gently nudge him over and slip into the bed beside him, his hand clutched in yours.

Remus breathes deeply to calm himself. His body is warm. You wonder how the world could let a boy so kind suffer like this.

"One day," you say, eyes fixed on the ceiling, "we'll be living in a nice house. With a library, filled with books floor to ceiling."

There's a rustle in the mattress beside you as Remus shifts his weight to face you.

"Lily will have invented some spell or potion to make it all easier every month, and we'll have a spare bedroom or two just for our friends to come stay with us." You turn to face him, and see tears in his eyes again. Your hand pulls away from his to wipe them, resting on his cheek as you continue.

"And you'll be doing whatever it is you want, and people will recognise you for you, and your achievements, and they'll sing your praises and know you not as a werewolf, not as a monster, but as Remus Lupin. The kindest, most clever wizard to ever walk the Earth."

Remus manages a smile, as his hand comes up to rest atop yours on his cheek. "Thank you, love."

His eyes shine with earnest.

"It'll get better, Remus." He smiles as he kisses your hand, and although you can tell that he doesn't fully believe you, you let it slide. You'll prove him wrong one day.

[laenordeservedbetter]

Just idea to look over for if/when you feel like doing requests.

Sam and reader have always been close. The two grew up together. But after everything that happened in Woodsboro and them moving to New York, the two have grown even closer. Closer to the point where Sam sleeps in Readers bed because of her nightmares and one night when Sam thinks reader is asleep, she confesses her feelings to rs 'sleeping' figure.

Sweet Nothing

Words: 1.2k

Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x GN!Reader

Warnings: Mention of nightmares, cussing, fluff, humor in things that are supposed to be serious

This is set before the events of Scream VI. Reader is Tara and Sam’s roommate here, not Quinn.

Title is based on the song ‘Sweet Nothing’ by Taylor Swift :)

not my gif. || masterlist || previous work

Sam sleeping in your bed had turned into a customary routine pretty quickly after you moved to New York. It was no surprise, really. The two of you have stuck by each other your whole lives. Though, given everything that befell the town of Woodsboro, it’s safe to say that you and Sam had gotten closer.

However, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Moving to NYC helped, sure, but that did not fully erase the remnants of the trauma it has given all of you. Especially Sam.

The nights were often hard to endure because of the nightmares. It was why Sam didn’t get much sleep. You found that out when you saw her on the living room couch staring blankly at the television with bloodshot eyes. She was barely moving when you saw her. That was when she opened up about her nightmares, how she couldn’t sleep well. In turn, you invited her to rest in your room.

It seemed silly at first, but it proved to be fruitful when Sam admitted the next day that because of the sleepover, she had had the best sleep she's gotten in months since the murders.

From that day onwards, Sam has been staying in your bed and is rarely found in her own room to the point where Tara suggested that the three of you should get a new roommate who’ll occupy Sam’s space since the older Carpenter sibling doesn’t sleep there anymore.

But as much as your sleepovers are helping Sam, it is also torture for her.

It was no secret that she harbored feelings for you. How could she not? You grew up together, went through so much shit together, and left the fucked up town of Woodsboro together. Still, those things can’t encompass how she feels about you. Every minute you spend with each other singularly adds fuel to an open fire. Even if you spend time apart, it won’t matter. The feelings are still there to eat her up. But she’d rather take that any day than losing you.

“Are you awake?” Sam glances at you over her shoulder. You have your back turned, eyes closed. She sighs when you don’t reply. “Guess not.”

She tries to fall asleep as well, but it is proving to be difficult since this is one of the nights where her affection for you threatens to eat her alive. If nightmares aren’t her problem, it’s her feelings. No matter what she does, there’s always something keeping her up at night. Although if you were to ask, she’d say that she very much prefers the latter. Looking at you brings Sam a calmness that pulls her back to reality when the darkness is trying to drag her away.

In a split-second decision, Sam attempts to impart a description of how vast her love (it took her a long time to agnize that it was no longer a stupid crush) is for you to your sleeping figure.

“I didn’t find a safe space until I met you. To other people, I’m strong, despite all the fucked up shit I went through. Only in your arms do I allow myself to break. You see who I am and not who I appear to be. You are who I look forward to seeing at the end of the day. It is you who I would do anything for. You’re who I… love.” Sam breathes out, smiling at her own words. “Feels good to finally say that out loud.

“Loving you has been the easiest thing I have ever done. Though it took me a long time to understand what I feel, I am grateful because I finally found a name to the crazy storm of emotions that I experience whenever you look at me. And, fuck, I’d do anything for you to keep looking at me the way you do. But I’d never have the guts to say that when you are awake because what if you stop? That would certainly change things. I don’t want to lose you . . . It is enough for me to love you from afar. I don’t want to be selfish, pining for someone I can’t have. So, I’ll settle for this, hoping that that would be enough.”

Sam feels an invisible weight lift off of her shoulder. She did it. She finally confessed her feelings despite knowing that it doesn’t count since you aren't conscious to hear this. If Tara saw what is happening, she would likely call Sam out on being a chicken. The Carpenter girl closes her eyes, sleep creeping up on her before…

“You know, out of all the confessions I had imagined I would get from you, I would’ve never expected hearing that.” You turn to your side, facing Sam and you look on with amusement as her eyes widen in fear. “Not complaining, by the way. What you said was sweet.”

Sam looks away, her hand covering her eyes as if that would make this situation any less embarrassing. She waits for the ground to swallow her whole, but that moment never comes. “I’m sorry.”

Your brows furrow, “For what?”

“I’m sorry I feel this way.” She clarifies, “I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore. I ruined everything. I’m so sorry.” Tears start to prickle in her eyes.

You seem to think ahead, considering how you sit up, gingerly pulling Sam’s hand away from her face before she can hurriedly wipe out the tears. “Sam, you didn’t ruin anything.” You assure her. It hurts you to know that she thinks that she is ruining what you have by falling in love with you, as if you haven’t made it obvious that you feel the same.

“I didn’t?” Sam appears confused, half-expecting you to turn away and leave.

“I love you too.” You admit, sheepishly. “I had a whole plan to declare it. I was gonna take you out tomorrow to your favorite diner. Then, I would have asked you to walk with me and confess my feelings while watching the gorgeous scenery, including all that sappy shit that we’ve only ever seen in movies, but I guess this works too.”

Sam blinks repeatedly (you would’ve thought she was malfunctioning if you didn’t know her) prior to getting on top of you to hit you with a pillow. “So you’re telling me that we could’ve gotten that instead of whatever this is? Why. Did. You. Pretend. You. Were. Sleeping. This. Whole. Time?!”

You put your hands in front of your face to shield yourself from the attack. Laughing, you manage to say, “In my defense, I didn’t know you were going to say that! For all I know, you could’ve been planning to tell me you have diarrhea or something!”

“Unbelievable.” Sam scoffs, getting off of you. She stands up, heading for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To my room.” She answers, pointing an accusatory finger at you, “You’ll make it up to me tomorrow by taking me to that diner.”

“We’re not even gonna kiss?” You pout.

Sam shakes her head indignantly, “Nope. Not until you take me out to dinner.” Seeing how affected you are, she chuckles teasingly, “It’s not the end of the world, Y/n. Be patient.” Then, she disappears, leaving you in your room alone with your thoughts.

You slump back into the bed, giggling like someone with a school girl crush.

And to think that this was only the beginning.