#And I’ll be posting it maybe tomorrow or later or something like that

[i-get-obsessed-fast]

Oh baby | Criminal Minds

.・゜✭・. Spencer Reid x F!Reader .・゜✭・.

Summary: you and Spencer unexpectedly become parents despite not being together officially

A/N: This is probs my fav fic I’ve written, so far. Hope you guys love it<3 lmk your thots:D also not proof-read I just wanted to get something posted.

BYR(b4 u Reid): Kind of a situationship?, nervous and scared Reid | kissing lol <- [warnings]

You woke up feeling absolutely miserable, maybe even worse than a hangover. A wave of nausea hit you hard, sending you rushing to your bathroom.

Dropping to your knees in front of your toilet, you barely had a second to catch your breath before you started throwing up, your stomach twisting with each heave “gross” you muttered

Flushing the toilet, and brushing your teeth you run to your alarm reading the time 7:30 am

Thirty minutes before you had to be at your desk

You throw on something work-appropriate but comfortable, not having energy to put much effort into your appearance after the rough start to your morning

As you walk towards the door, your eyes flicker to your calendar. Something makes you pause, and you decide to check it

A sinking feeling settles into your stomach when you see it’s around the time you’re supposed to start your cycle, but you quickly brush it off not wanting to stress yourself out even more

Cycles change all the time you convinced yourself it was just happening to you

As soon as the elevator doors opened, you hurried out, making a beeline for your desk.

“Just in time.” Spencer noted as you arrived

“I was worried I was going to be late.”

“You had exactly one minute to spare.” He held up a cup of coffee “I picked it up on the way.”

You took the cup but eyed him skeptically before grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards a quieter corner, his brows furrowed in confusion

“It’s a nice gesture, really,” you said as you lifted up the cup “But this looks a little suspicious.”

“Getting you coffee is suspicious?” He questioned

You sighed “I just don’t want the team in our business. They’re already catching on, and I’d rather keep this between us.”

He considered that for a moment before nodding “If it helps, I’ll buy Derek coffee tomorrow to throw them off.” He suggested

You couldn’t help but smile “you’re annoying.”

Spencer chuckled, then, to your surprise, laced his fingers with yours “you know.” He said matter of factly “If anything looks suspicious, it’s you pulling me somewhere private for a conversation.”

You nodded agreeing with him “You’re right.” and with that you let go of his hand “I’ll talk to you later.” you say as you walk away from the tall gorgeous man

You’d be lying if you said you didn't miss the way your fingers felt together or the sounds that leave his mouth when he laughs

It was like music to your ears

You know you shouldn't feel that way since what you guys have isn’t official, and you didn’t want to get hurt.

A few days have passed and it was like each day was worser than the last, now it was headaches, fatigue, nausea all creeping in at the worst moments

But you're convinced its just a bug, between the stress of the last case you and your team did and the lack of sleep it makes sense that your body is shutting down

Except, your girl friends at the BAU don't believe that one bit

“Geez, you look pale.” JJ says as she leans against your desk, arms crossed “And she’s been running to the bathroom a lot.” Emily joins in

You wave them off “I'm just coming down with something”

“Yeah that's what you said yesterday, and the day before.” Penelope recalls “What is this an intervention?” you question

“Nope, just your friends worried about you.” JJ says as she shared a knowing look with Emily and Pen

“It’s nothing.” you assured them

“Hey, I brought you some tea.” Spencer says as he joins the group, setting a cup down in front of you. His eyes scan your face with concern “you look sick.”

Your stomach twists at his comment “Do I really look that bad?” you ask feeling a bit insecure

Spencer's eyes widen slightly, he stumbles on his words “No-no, not bad. I just meant… you seem unwell. That's all.”

Emily smirks, shaking her head “Way to go, Dr. Reid.” she grabs her files and walks off

JJ gives you a sympathetic look as she stands “And that's our cue to leave. Come on, Penelope.” Garcia leans in as she follows JJ “Feel better sunshine.” she says before disappearing down the hall

Spencer shifts on his feet “I’m sorry. I shouldn't of had said it like that.”

You sigh, feeling guilty for your reaction “It’s okay. I’m just feeling extra sensitive today. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

He studies you for a moment, then lowers his voice “Have you thought about seeing a doctor? You've been sick for awhile now.”

You shake your head quickly “It’s not that serious.” but Spencer doesn't look convinced “Well…If you need anything, I'm right here.

You offer him a smile “Thanks, Spence.”

As he walks away, you stare at the tea he left behind. The more you think about it, the more unease settles in your chest. What if this isn’t just a stomach bug? What if it’s something worse.

And worse than that, what if you’re right?

As soon as lunch rolled around, you grabbed JJ, Emily, and Penelope by the arms “Come with me. Now.”

“Where are we going?” Garcia asked, eyeing you curiously “A store.” You hesitated, lowering your voice “I need a test.”

All three of them stopped in their tracks, wide eyed “Like a test test?” JJ asked, eyebrows raised, you nodded the fear in your eyes answering for you

“Okay.” Emily said already walking “Let’s go.”

“Wouldn’t you want to do this with…you know, whoever might’ve done this?”

“Uh, no. He’s busy.” You said quickly, leading them toward the exit, but just as you reached the door, Morgan and Spencer appeared

“Hey, where are you guys headed?” Morgan asked “Yeah, I thought we were all getting lunch at Caesars.” Spencer added, Rossi standing beside him

JJ reacted fast “We’re getting medicine for y/n” Spencer frowned “Oh I can come. I know which one will work best.”

“No, no, no, we got it.” Garcia said quickly waving him off Spencer narrowed his eyes, clearly sensing something was off, but eventually nodded “Alright. See you later.”

The four of you bolted out the door.

Inside the store, you stood frozen in front of all the pregnancy test selections, overwhelmed.

“Why are there so many?” You groaned, scanning the shelves “These are easy to read.” JJ said, grabbing a Clear Blue and handing it to you

You grimaced “Do I have to put it on the register?”

Emily snorted “You literally profile murderers for a living, but you’re scared to purchase a pregnancy test?”

“No wonder you might be pregnant” Garcia teased “Were you too scared to buy condoms too?”

You shot them a glare “Hilarious.”

JJ rolled her eyes and grabbed the test from your hand “I’ll put it down.” you sighed in relief “Thank you.”

At the register, you all smiled stiffly at the cashier as he rang it up. He barely acknowledged you guys, but that didn't stop you from feeling widely judged.

Back at the BAU, the four of you rushed to the restroom.

“Pee on the stick, wait five minutes, and we’ll either celebrate or cry.” JJ instructed “Your call.”

You exhaled, feeling like you were preparing for battle “Alright.” Stepping into the stall, you did what you had to do, then set the rest down on the counter, turning it away from you

“Timer is set.” Garcia announced, your heart pounded, you knew what the results was going to be, and that terrified you more than anything

The four of you sat in silence on the restroom floor, gross, but none of you cared right now. The weight of the situation hung heavy in the air

“Time’s up.” Garcia finally said glancing at you with concern, you swallowed hard “I can't look.”

“Want us to?” Emily offered you nodded “Please”

JJ picked it up first. The three of them leaned in, their expressions unreadable. Then, without a word JJ handed it to you

Your hands trembled as you looked down

Pregnant

Your heart dropped, and a lump formed in your throat, but you refused to break. Not here, not now. Instead, you slowly nodded, forcing out a breath “okay”

“So…is this good or bad?” Garcia asked, studying your face, you opened your mouth, then closed it “I don't know.” you admit

“Are you going to tell him?” JJ asked gently, you nodded “eventually.”

Emily places a reassuring hand on your shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze “We’ll give you time to process, when you're ready, we’re here.”

Each of them gives you a small, comforting smile before slipping out of the restroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling

“Why? Why? Why?” you whispered to yourself

This wasn't just about you.

This was about Spencer.

Your coworker.

A man you weren't even in a relationship with.

How the hell were you going to tell him?

You stepped out the restroom, exhausted and ready to be anywhere but here. Your body felt heavy, your mind even more so. All you wanted was to crawl into bed and shut the world out.

“Hey! We’re still on for tonight?”

The familiar voice made you stop in your tracks. Of course it was Spencer.

“Tonight?” You frowned, genuinely confused

He gave you a puzzled look “Movie night? At my place? Like it has been every Friday for the past six months?”

“Oh…right.” You let out an awkward laugh, and rubbed the back of your neck “Sorry, I’m just- are you sure you want me there? I don’t want to get you sick.” You say even though you knew what you had wasn’t contagious

“I’ll be fine.” He said with a small smile “I can disinfect everything.”

You hesitated before nodding “then, I’ll be there.” “Great.”

Silence settled between you two, he looked at you like he knew something was off, and part of you wanted to just say it right then and there.

“Well, I should get back to my files.” You said quickly making an excuse to leave.

Before you could slip away, he gently grabbed your hand “Are you sure you’re alright?” His voice was quieter now, more concerned.

“Yes, Spencer, I’m fine.” You forced a reassuring smile, but his eyes searched yours unconvinced

“Did I…do something?”

“What? No!” Your stomach knotted at the thought of him blaming himself “why would you think that?”

He hesitated “Just how you’ve been acting recently, I want to know if it’s because of me.”

You sighed, squeezing his hand before pulling away “It’s not you, I promise.”

He nodded but the uncertainty was still there “Okay.”

With that, you turned and walked back to your desk, diving into your files, forcing yourself to focus. For a couple hours, it worked. You got lost in the work, grateful for the temporary escape— until a voice whispered right into your ear

“So… who’s the father?”

You jumped, nearly knocking over your coffee “Jesus Garcia.” She grinned unapologetically “Sorry, did I scare the baby?”

You glared at her “No, you scared me.” She leaned in closer “Can I take a guess?”

You gave her a warning look “You don’t know him.”

Garcia scoffed “Sweetie, I know this guy. Anyone with a pair of eyes can tell just by the way you two interact. You guys are getting it on.”

Your face burned “Penelope.”

She wiggled her eyebrows “So, it is who I think it is.” You sighed, lowering your voice “You have to keep this a secret. Please.”

She immediately sobered, nodding “Of course, but you are telling him, right?”

You swallowed hard, glancing over at Spencer who was talking to Hotch across the room “Yeah.”

“I’m happy for you guys, no matter what you choose to do.” Garcia said warmly you gave her a small grateful smile

“Thank you. I just- I don’t know what to do. I know my options, obviously, but I don’t think I can go through with that. But at the same time, I don’t want to do this if Spencer isn’t ready. I don’t want to hold him back.”

Garcia shook her head “Look, he loves you. It’s so obvious the little things he does for you, the way he talks about you when you aren’t around. He is going to be ready.”

You let out a deep sigh, looking down at your hands “we’re not even together.” The admission felt embarrassing, like it somehow made everything worse

“Honey, you know Spencer. It takes him awhile, but he’ll come around to making it official. He’s just scared.” You exhaled leaning back into your chair

“Yeah…maybe.”

“not maybe— definitely” she corrected “Just give him time.”

The work day ended, and you had finally returned home, you threw yourself on your bed still in your work clothes but too lazy to change

You laid there deep in your thoughts until you drifted off to sleep

You weren’t sure how long you had been out but there was knocking at your door that woke you

You looked through the hole and seen it was Spencer, he looked worried “Spencer?” You question as you open the door allowing him to enter

“I was calling, you never answered. I got worried.” He tells you as he looks at you scanning to make sure you were alright “I fell asleep, I’m so sorry.” You apologize “no it’s okay. I’m just happy you’re safe.”

“Today was exhausting.” You admitted. He gave you a look of understanding “Can I do anything to help?”

Your cheeks warmed at the sincerity in his voice. He was always quick to offer whatever he could “No, it’s alright.”

“Are you sure? I give great massages.” He teased, a small smirk playing on his lips, you let out a small laugh “I’m sure, Spencer. How about we just watch a movie?”

He nodded, clearly liking the idea “what are you in the mood for?”

You thought for a moment. After everything today, you just wanted something comforting, something that reminded you of simpler times

“The Fox and the Hound.”

Spencer’s face lit up with a soft smile “That’s a good one.”

“Can you set it up while I change?” You asked “of course.” Spencer replied without hesitation

You stepped into your room, closing the door behind you. As you emptied your pockets your fingers brushed against the pregnancy test. You sighed, staring at it for a moment before tucking it away in your nightstand drawer

Once you had changed into something more comfortable, you walked back out, expecting to see Spencer in the living room but he wasn’t there. You glanced around and spotted him in the kitchen.

“I decided we needed popcorn.” He casually said as he poured some into a bowl “That’s a good idea.” You smiled

Settling on the couch, you grabbed the remote as Spencer joined you, sitting down beside you with the bowl in hand.

You pressed play and it didn’t take long for you to immersive yourself in the familiar comfort of the movie

The movie held your full attention, so much so that you barely noticed every time your hand brushed against Spencer's in the popcorn bowl.

It had always been your favorite movie as a kid, but now watching it while being pregnant, it felt different.

Then came the scene, the scene that always broke your heart as a child and even now as an adult

The little old lady drives off in her car, away from the Fox leaving him in the woods to be free. It felt like it hit you harder then ever before, and suddenly you couldn’t hold back the tears

Spencer turned his head, noticing the way your shoulders shook “Are you crying?” He asked softly “no.” You lied even as you wiped at your cheeks

You let out a small, embarrassed laugh, trying to play it off. Spencer shook his head, shifting to face you. Without a word, he reached out, gently brushing away a stray tear “Hey, it’s alright. It’s a sad scene.” he agreed

Your eyes met his “I think I could use that massage now.” a small smile played on his lips “I think you could too.”

You turned around, away from his gaze, and pulled your hair to the side giving him full access to your back. His hands found your shoulders, pressing in firmly. The tension in your muscles melted under his touch.

“You’re tense.” He murmured. You sighed, eyes fluttering shut “that feels good.”

“So, what’s been on your mind?” He asked your eyes snapped open “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been really stressed lately, today especially. You told me it’s not me, so… what is it?”

You hesitated, knowing this was the moment. You couldn’t keep avoiding it.

“Spencer.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper, his hands stilled “yeah?”

You turned to face him, fresh tears slipping down your cheeks. His stomach dropped, he didn’t know what you were about to say.

“Hold on.” You murmured, quickly getting up. You rushed to your room, grabbing the test from your nightstand. When you returned, Spencer was watching you carefully, his brows furrowed in concern

You sat down, heart pounding “I have something to show you.” You say as you hold out the test to him, Spencer took it hesitantly, his eyes scanning the results

His lips parted slightly “oh.”

That single word terrified you

You weren’t sure what he was thinking.

Spencer on the other hand, his mind was racing so fast he couldn’t form a single coherent thought. His fingers tightened around the plastic stick.

“Say something.” You say as you watch him intently, his head snapped up, eyes wide, searching yours as if trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces “You’re…pregnant.” He said

You nodded “yeah.”

Spencer swallowed hard, looking back down at the test, then back to you “it’s mines..right?” He questioned hopeful that you wouldn’t have been with anyone else “of course it’s yours.” You said quickly, feeling a strange mix of emotions, offense, anxiety, fear.

“Right. No, I-i didn’t mean it like that, I just-” he exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he tried to process “This is…a lot.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Spencer went quiet again, his mind clearly catching up to reality.

And then, finally, he looked at you “How are you feeling?” He softly asked “I don’t know. Scared, overwhelmed.” You admitted

Spencer nodded and reached for your hand, taking it in his, it felt warm and grounding.

Spencer hesitated for a moment before taking his hand away and reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small, folded piece of paper. He held it up between you.

“I’ve been carrying this around for a while.” He admitted “It’s a list… of all the reasons I think we’re perfect for each other.”

Your breath caught “Spence-”

“I’m not finished.” He said quickly, his eyes pleading with you to let him get it all out “I’ve been planning to tell you for so long. Too long. I should’ve said something the moment I realized it was you.”

You just stared at him, heart pounding, and he cleared his throat “I even calculated the probability of a successful relationship based on compatibility factors and shared interests.” He let out a small, nervous laugh

That made you smile. Without thinking, you reached for his hand, giving it a soft squeeze

“I want to be with you.” He said, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable “But don’t say yes because of the baby. Say yes because you want me the way I want you.”

His eyes searched yours “say something?” He whispered, you swallowed hard, then nodded towards the paper “Can I read it?”

Relief washed over his face as he handed it to you without hesitation “You just carry it around?”

He nodded, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips “It reminds me of you. So even when you’re not with me, it still feels like you are.”

Your chest ached, and you smiled at him with tears in your eyes “I want to be with you.” You say

Spencer had never felt anything like this before, it was overwhelming in the best way, pure happiness, the kind he never thought he’d get to have.

Despite the fear of the unknown, he knew one thing for certain, he was happy it was you he was going to experience this with.

He pulled you into him, the embrace feeling both familiar and new. This time, there was no more unspoken words, no more uncertainty. Just the two of you, together, exactly as you were meant to be

“So…do the girls know?” He asked, remembering how strangely they all had been acting at lunch, you nodded “They were with me when I found out.”

Spencer exhaled, his eyes softening “I wish I had been there.”

“I know.” You murmured guilt tugging at your chest “I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head “I just, I don’t want to miss anything. Not with you, not with this baby. Every doctors visit, every sick day, every moment, I want to be there.”

His sincerity made your heart ache in the best way “I want you to be there too.”

His fingers gently tilted your chin before he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. It was soft, and lingering.

When his tongue traced along your bottom lip, asking for more, you gave in without hesitation.

After he pulled away, he smiled, his eyes full of wonder “I can’t wait to see you grow.” You brushed a hand over his cheek, returning his smile “I can’t wait to see you become the best dad.”

Should I make this into a mini series ? Where the next part can be them telling the team? 🤭 next chapter -> Family | Criminal Minds

check out my other works<3 here

[finelinefae]

my darling

synopsis: a love triangle

word count: 10.8k

contains: angst angst angst, love triangle, mfm, best friends to lovers, boarding school, violence, unrequited love,

a/n: i wrote this for wattpad during the My Policeman era. I wanted to post it here after re-reading it. I remember this being one of the first pieces of fanfic i felt super proud of !! warning it is pretty sad

. . .

Then — 1996

Dear Diary,

Today we moved into our new home in Halton. It’s small, quaint, and quiet—very quiet. The kind of place where everyone seems set in their routines, the same patterns repeating every day. I already miss London. Mum says this will be good for us, though. Good to get away from the drama. Good to get away from Dad.

The house isn’t as big as our old one. I have to share a room with Delilah now, but it’s fine—I’ll be off to boarding school by the end of the summer. Mum says I’ll enjoy it since she went to the same school at my age, but I think she’s just trying to make me feel better. Who actually enjoys living at school?

It’s a three-hour drive from Halton, which feels like a world away. I’m nervous, excited, sad, and happy all at once. The feelings are so overwhelming they all blur together into something I can only describe as... heavy. Like my life is a snow globe someone’s just shaken up, glitter falling everywhere. It looks magical at first, but the reality is you’re stuck cleaning it up for weeks, finding it in the oddest places long after.

I miss my dog. I never got to say goodbye.

Dad cried when we left. I’ve never seen him cry before. He told me it wasn’t goodbye, just a "see you later." Mum always says Dad’s a good liar, but I don’t think he was lying this time. Maybe it was the tears—they don’t suit him.

-

Dear Diary,

Today I moved into my dorm at Southend Park School.

Mum was annoyed we had to wake up before seven to pack the car and drive me down, even though this was all her idea. She’s probably just tired—or maybe something else. I have a suspicion she’s met someone. I’m not sure how she moved on from Dad so quickly. Did she ever really love him?

My dorm has six girls, including me. I’ve mostly been talking to Ellis, who’s in the room next door. She’s fourteen, older than the rest of us, but only because her birthday is the 1st of September. Today’s the third, so her advantage is technical, but she likes to remind us.

Being alone here scares me, but it’s nothing new. Delilah always had loads of friends, and Dad was always working. Mum was usually out socializing, too.

Mum cried as we finished unpacking, promising she’d pick me up for half-term or that I could come home anytime. But I don’t want to go home. I hate it there.

Tomorrow is a full day of inductions, and I’m worried about making friends. Southend Park is a mixed school, and boys make me nervous. I’d rather have no friends at all than feel like I have to pretend to be someone I’m not.

I still feel like I’m picking up glitter from months ago. I wonder when it will finally stop.

-

Dear Diary,

I made two friends. You’ll never guess—they’re boys!

Their names are Harry and Dylan. They’re both thirteen, like me, but they feel older somehow. They even live in the same dorm and invited me over this weekend.

We met during lunch in the courtyard. I was sitting alone when Dylan walked up first, chatting easily and cracking jokes. Harry followed behind, much quieter. Dylan has blond hair and a small scar on his eyebrow from climbing trees back in Morston. Harry’s hair is thick and curly—I wanted to touch it but stopped myself because, well, that would’ve been weird.

Harry didn’t say much at first, though I noticed him glancing at me. When I met his gaze, he blushed and looked down at his extra-polished school shoes.

We didn’t talk much again until the end of the day, on the way back to the dorms. That’s when we compared timetables and realized we share four classes, including English Literature. It’s just Harry and me in that one, though.

I never thought I’d be friends with boys, but I like it. It feels different from being friends with girls—less pressure to act outgoing or girly. I hope we stay friends. I like them both a lot.

. . .

Then — 2000

“Hey, Harry,” Y/N called, running across the field toward the headmaster’s office where Harry stood, focused on his Nokia flip phone.

Harry glanced up, his expression softening when he saw her. He tucked the phone into his pocket and waved her over. Despite the end-of-day chaos, both were still dressed in their school uniforms. “Hey, baby.” He greeted her with a quick kiss, pulling her closer and wrapping an arm around her waist. He loved how perfectly she fit against him, as though they were made for each other.

“What’s going on? Aren’t we meeting Dylan to go to Ellis’ dorm?” Y/N asked, frowning slightly as she looked around for their other best friend.

Harry smirked, shaking his head. “We are, but Dylan got caught passing notes to Casey Becker in geometry. He’s stuck with thirty minutes in the headmaster’s office to make amends.”

Y/N chuckled, her laugh warm and familiar. “Again? He’s going to get himself expelled if he’s not careful.” She slid her hands under Harry’s blazer, warming them against his torso.

Harry brushed a strand of hair from her face, letting his thumb linger on her cheekbone. “How was your day?” he murmured, his lips brushing hers as he spoke.

“It was fine,” Y/N replied. “I scored three points in netball, and Tessa Riley gave me daggers in the changing room.” She giggled, leaning into him.

Harry smiled, pride gleaming in his eyes. “That’s m’girl.” He bent down and kissed her forehead gently.

“Oh, please, don’t make me sick,” a familiar voice drawled, breaking the moment.

“Hi, Dylan.” Y/N turned to see him strolling down the stone steps, his blazer slung over his shoulder and a cigarette dangling between his fingers. She leaned back against Harry, crossing her arms.

“Hello, my darling Y/N,” Dylan teased, his tone playful as he lit the cigarette with practiced ease.

“Seriously, Dylan?” Harry said, narrowing his eyes. “Do you really need another detention?”

“Don’t you smoke, Styles?” Dylan shot back, grinning. “Besides, Mary would love to see me again after our chat earlier. She’s got a soft spot for me.” He smirked, wiping his thumb across the corner of his mouth.

Y/N rolled her eyes, stepping away from Harry’s warmth. She was long used to Dylan’s antics—four and a half years of friendship had left little room for surprises.

The three of them had been inseparable since their first days at Southend Park Boarding School. Despite their differences in personality, they were like a family unit, supporting one another through the highs and lows of adolescence.

Dylan, the loudest of the trio, was notorious for his sharp wit and knack for trouble. Teachers despaired over his behavior, but students were drawn to his charm—especially the girls, who fell for his rebellious streak and the ever-present cigarette.

Harry, by contrast, was the golden boy: smart, polite, and beloved by staff. He balanced his role as student ambassador with captaining the football team, a position that made him one of the most popular boys in school. Dylan teasingly called him a “teacher’s pet,” but Harry wore the label without shame.

Y/N was the quietest of the three, rarely seeking the spotlight. She volunteered in the school library every Tuesday and spent her free time with her dorm mates. Still, Harry and Dylan were fiercely protective of her, and she often marveled at how lucky she was to have them.

The trio walked out of the school gates toward the housing blocks, their shadows stretching long in the late afternoon sun. Harry carried Y/N’s backpack on one shoulder, his free hand clasping hers. Dylan trailed behind, typing on his phone with an unlit cigarette between his teeth.

“Ellis doesn’t want you bringing anything to the party this time, Dylan,” Y/N warned, glancing over her shoulder. “You know what happened last time. If you pull that again, you’re getting kicked out of school.”

“My darling Y/N,” Dylan began with exaggerated sincerity, pausing for effect, “only for you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile.

When they reached her dorm, Y/N kissed Harry on the cheek and took her bag from his shoulder. “I’ll see you both later?” she asked, her eyes bright.

Dylan saluted her without looking up from his phone, while Harry smiled warmly. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too, Harry,” she replied before disappearing inside.

Harry and Dylan walked in silence toward their dorm. The tension was palpable, Dylan unusually quiet as Harry’s mind churned with unspoken thoughts.

“We’re going to have to tell her at some point,” Dylan murmured, his voice low as the setting sun bathed the path in a golden glow.

Harry’s heart tightened. “No, we don’t.”

“Harry—”

“Shut up, Dylan. Nothing happened.” Harry’s voice was sharp, cutting Dylan off before he could continue.

They stopped, staring at each other, the air between them heavy. Harry’s frustration burned in his eyes, while Dylan’s sadness hung like a weight on his shoulders.

“I love her,” Harry finally said, his voice trembling. “I’ll never love anyone else as much as I love Y/N.”

Without another word, he turned and stormed into their dormitory, leaving Dylan alone on the pavement. Dylan exhaled shakily, the ache in his chest unbearable.

. . .

Then — 1998

Dear Diary,

It’s been a month since my fifteenth birthday, and Harry finally asked me out on a date. It feels like a dream, the kind where everything is so perfect you fear waking up to find it never happened.

To be honest, I think I’m already in love with him. He’s always been so kind to me, much more than Dylan. Harry carries my bag to class when I have netball, and sometimes, during English Literature, I catch him staring at me. There’s something about the way his gaze lingers that makes me feel seen.

In art class, he taught me how to use watercolors for the first time, his thumb brushing against mine as he guided me. Little moments like that remind me how much I care for him—so much that the thought of being without him feels unbearable. Is that dramatic? Probably. But I can’t help it if it’s true.

Even when I’m talking to Ellis during lunch or before bed, my mind wanders back to Harry—his smile, his eyes, the way he laughs at my jokes even when they aren’t funny, and how he hugs me differently from everyone else.

It feels strange to be fifteen and falling so deeply. What do I know about love at this age? How much further can I fall?

I think I’m going to love him forever. I hope he loves me forever too.

-

Dear Diary,

Harry kissed me today. My first kiss—with the boy I love most in the entire world.

I knew it was going to happen. We’d just finished dinner in the dining hall when he asked if I wanted to take a walk in the gardens. Dylan wanted to come along, but Harry shook his head, saying he wanted it to be just the two of us.

I felt a twinge of guilt when I looked back and saw Dylan standing there, his expression heavy as he watched us leave. He kept staring at Harry, even as we walked past the window overlooking the gardens.

Harry brought me to the tulips because he knows they’re my favorite. He said my braid looked pretty today, and that’s when I knew—I truly, completely loved him. It was the worst braid I’ve ever done, but he still thought it was beautiful.

We sat on a swinging bench, listening to birds returning to their nests. When he said my name, it sounded magical, like it had been made for his lips alone. I turned to look at him, and that’s when he leaned in and kissed me.

It felt like a scene from a movie.

No one ever tells you what it’s like to kiss someone for the first time. The way their breath mingles with yours, the world fading away as you close your eyes and step into a place so tender it consumes you. It makes you wonder if you’ve ever been truly loved before.

We only stopped because we heard a rustling in the bushes. We looked around but didn’t find anything, so Harry walked me back to my dorm. He kissed me again outside the door, and I floated through the rest of the night, humming to myself as I got ready for bed.

But when I think back to that moment, I could swear I saw a tuft of blond hair sticking out from behind a bush.

. . .

Now — 2000

Y/N sat cross-legged in front of the mirror on Ellis’ floor, carefully applying mascara as Fiona Apple played softly in the background. Ellis sat nearby, painting her nails a deep red.

“I’m just saying,” Ellis began, waving the brush for emphasis, “you and Harry have been dating for two years, and you haven’t done the deed yet?”

Y/N flushed at the mention of sex, shifting uncomfortably. She hated talking about it, even with Harry. Maybe it was because she didn’t know much about it or because she’d never had a safe space to ask questions, but every time the topic came up—whether in conversation or during truth or dare—she wanted to run for cover.

“We’re waiting for the right time,” Y/N said evenly, her voice robotic as she repeated the well-rehearsed answer.

“The right time?” Ellis scoffed. “I’ve never seen a couple more in love—it’s nauseating.”

Y/N hesitated, her mind drifting to moments when she’d wanted to take things further with Harry. But he always stopped before it went too far. Sometimes it made her feel like she wasn’t enough—pretty enough, desirable enough—but then he’d kiss her softly and remind her how beautiful she was, stroking her cheek as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “We’ve done... things, but not that.”

“Is Harry religious or something?” Ellis asked, narrowing her eyes.

“No, I don’t think so,” Y/N replied with a frown. “He’s never mentioned it.”

“Maybe he’s waiting until marriage,” Ellis mused.

The thought of marrying Harry made Y/N’s heart swell. She’d dreamed of it ever since their first kiss in the gardens—walking down the aisle in a white dress, Harry waiting for her at the end, tears in his eyes. Maybe they’d both cry.

“I don’t mind waiting,” Y/N said, her voice soft but certain. “I love him enough to wait as long as he needs me to.”

Ellis groaned, grabbing a bottle of vodka from her bedside table. “You can’t say stuff like that when I haven’t had a single drink.” She poured herself a shot and downed it in one go. “Okay, continue.”

Y/N laughed and turned back to her reflection, humming Queen’s Love of My Life as her thoughts drifted back to Harry.

. . .

Then — 1998

Dear Harry,

Today we went to the beach—the three of us. Me, you, and Y/N. I know in most situations it’s you, Y/N, then me, but in these letters, it will always be me and you.

We’d been planning this trip for weeks. It’s a three-hour drive to the coast from school, and Y/N had been complaining about the journey the entire time. I didn’t mind. Is it wrong of me to want to sit next to you on a bus full of people not one of them knowing who we are for three whole hours? Our knees touching for three whole hours? Sand on your feet and your hair salty from the sea, inhaling your scent and wanting your hand to touch my thigh for three whole hours?

When we got there, the morning was overcast, but by the time we hit the sand, the sun broke through the clouds. It was perfect. The light caught your skin, making it glisten, and your eyes shone with that impossible sea-glass green. I wanted to look into them forever, but you were too busy looking at Y/N.

I tried to catch your attention—touching your shoulder as I passed by, reaching for the beach bag at the same time as you, brushing my fingers against yours. But it didn’t matter. You only had eyes for her, and I only had eyes for you.

When you kissed her in the gardens, a part of me died. I had been pining for you for so long, silently hoping you’d see me, but it was always her. I felt stupid, running miles afterward, the wind howling in my ears: You fool, you idiot, how could he ever love you?

I didn’t want to feel this way, Harry. I tried to bury it, to pretend it wasn’t real, but when I met you, everything I’d hidden about myself unraveled.

The day wasn’t without its drama. Y/N, distracted, stepped into the road thinking the approaching van was the bus. You moved so fast, grabbing her and pulling her back before the van could hit her. I watched the terror flash across your face, the way you held her afterward as she cried. You kissed her forehead, comforted her, showed her the kind of love I’d only ever dreamed of.

And I hated her for it.

I feel terrible admitting this because I do love Y/N. I truly do. But most days, I hate her, and only because she has you.

When we finally got to the beach, the three of us ran toward the waves, shedding our clothes as we went, laughing like we were carefree children. For a moment, we were. We left our troubles behind in the sand.

You swung Y/N over your shoulder as you splashed into the water, and I couldn’t help but admire the way your muscles flexed. You were a work of art, Harry, something meant to be admired in a gallery. And I was nothing more than an observer, longing for what I could never have.

Later, Y/N went to get ice cream. Before she left, she asked for your order, and I already knew what you’d say—mint chocolate chip. The way she looked surprised made me feel smug for a second, but that quickly disappeared when she said it was her favorite too.

While she was gone, I felt a cramp in my shoulder. “Let me,” you murmured, and before I could answer, your fingertips ghosted over my shoulder, pressing into the tight muscle.

I couldn’t breathe, Harry. You were so close, your breath warm against my neck. For a split second, I thought if I just turned my head, I could kiss you.

I’ll never forget that moment for as long as I live. Even if you do.

. . .

Now — 2000

Dylan and Harry were in their dorm room, preparing for the party. Harry stood in front of the mirror, anxiously gelling his hair back.

“I think I’m going to do it,” Harry said suddenly, turning to face Dylan. “I’m going to go all the way with Y/N.”

Dylan froze, his heart sinking. He lit a cigarette, trying to appear nonchalant as he perched on the windowsill. “Really? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” His voice betrayed him, tinged with irritation and jealousy.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m just saying, are you sure it’s the right time to sleep with her? After... what happened?”

Harry’s expression darkened. “Nothing happened. It was a mistake.”

“You keep saying that,” Dylan said, standing now, his voice rising. “Like you’re trying to gaslight me into thinking I imagined it. But I’ve imagined kissing you enough times to know what’s real and what’s not.”

Harry’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching. “I was drunk, and you took advantage of me.”

The words hit Dylan like a slap, but he forced himself to stay calm. “Don’t try that with me, Harry. It might work in your petty arguments with Y/N, but it won’t work on me. You’re the one twisting the truth to fit your narrative.”

“I don’t care what you think,” Harry snapped. “I only care about Y/N. And if you can’t handle that, maybe you need to step away—from both of us.”

“Step away?” Dylan said incredulously, his voice breaking. “You want me to walk away from the only two people who’ve ever cared about me? You want me to walk away from you?”

Harry hesitated, guilt flickering across his face. “You know how I feel about Y/N. I love her. I’m in love with her. Even if I felt something for you, it would never compare.”

“You’re lying,” Dylan whispered, his eyes glassy. “If you loved her so much, you wouldn’t have kissed me in the first place.”

“You don’t know anything!” Harry exploded, his voice shaking with fury. “Do you know what would happen if someone found out? What it would do to Y/N? To us? I felt nothing! It was a mistake!”

“Harry—”

“No,” Harry cut him off. “Whatever feelings you have, whatever intentions, you need to get over them.”

“That’s not as easy as you think—”

“You have to.” Harry’s voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument. Dylan stared at him, shattered, as Harry turned and stormed out.

He left Dylan standing there, broken, feeling like Harry had taken his very soul with him.

. . .

Then — 1999

Dear Harry,

We’ve been assigned as partners in media class, and now we have to make a music video. Naturally, you asked Y/N if she’d star in it. You told her she was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen and that she’d be perfect for it. She blushed, of course, and said yes. Then you kissed her—so long and so deeply that I had to look away.

I imagined myself in her place, wondering what it would be like to kiss you in public, to have the world see how much I adored you. If it were allowed, I don’t think I’d ever stop kissing you.

Today, we filmed the music video. You wanted it to feel like a coming-of-age story. I’d wanted something more abstract, but I agreed to your ideas, nodding eagerly at every suggestion, whether it was brilliant or terrible.

We filmed in the gardens—my least favorite place in the entire school. That’s where you kissed Y/N for the first time, and if I could erase that night from my memory, I would in a heartbeat.

The sun was shining as you whispered into Y/N’s ear while I set up the camera. I tried to block out the sound of your laughter, the sight of her hand on your shoulder.

“Are we ready?” I called, my voice louder than I intended. You straightened up immediately.

“Dylan, why don’t you be in the video with me?” Y/N smiled warmly. She had that rare ability to make everyone feel seen, like she was radiating sunshine. It was impossible not to smile back.

“My darling, you know I’m not nearly as perfect as you,” I teased, watching her blush.

I don’t even remember when I started calling her “my darling.” The first time, I remember catching the flash of jealousy in your eyes. I liked that. I liked seeing you react to me, even if it wasn’t in the way I wanted. You’re used to it now, but sometimes, when I say it, I still see a flicker of something in your gaze.

The music video took all day to shoot. Every time Y/N nailed a scene, you rewarded her with a kiss. I worked hard too, Harry. Shouldn’t I have been rewarded in some way?

When Y/N left for her library shift that evening, it was just the two of us. You wanted to capture the soft glow of the sunset, so we stayed behind to get more footage.

“My mother wants me to go into politics,” you said as we sat cross-legged on the grass, the camera between us. “But I’d love to do this—be a director. I’ve always wanted to be an artist of some kind. It’s a silly dream, but I think about it all the time.”

I could imagine it. You had a way of leading people, commanding attention without being arrogant. You cared so deeply—for the art, for the people—that it would probably destroy you someday.

“It’s not silly,” I said. “It’s never silly to dream. My God, Harry, we only live once. Might as well do everything we can to feel something in the little time we have.”

You looked at me then, really looked at me. For the first time, I thought you might be feeling a fraction of what I felt every day. “I’ve never told anyone that before. Not even Y/N knows.”

“It’ll be our secret,” I whispered. And for a moment, I could’ve sworn you glanced at my lips.

Then, just as quickly, you diverted the topic. Grabbing the camera, you aimed it at me lying in the grass. “Looks like Y/N’s not the only model anymore,” you teased.

I tried to act indifferent, but I would’ve stayed there all night if it meant seeing you laugh like that.

It makes me wonder, Harry—do you know how much power you have over your friends? Do you know that you have two people who worship the ground you walk on? How does it feel to be desired? How does it feel to have a choice in who you love?

. . .

Now — 2000

“You’re here!” Y/N beamed, running into Harry’s arms and wrapping her hands around his neck.

“Hey, baby,” he murmured, kissing her temple before setting her down.

The party was already in full swing. Students from across campus had crammed into Ellis’ dorm, the air thick with music, laughter, and the faint smell of alcohol.

“Hi, Dylan,” Y/N greeted, pulling him into a tight hug. “You’re dressed pretty smart. Planning on impressing anyone tonight?”

“Only you, darling,” Dylan replied, forcing a wink and a smirk despite the ache in his chest. Harry’s words from earlier still rang in his ears, but he pushed them aside.

Harry’s eyes darted to the cup in Y/N’s hand. “Have you been drinking?” he asked, his tone light but concerned.

“It’s water,” she whispered with a smile. Harry relaxed. She wasn’t much of a drinker, and he knew that.

“You look so pretty,” he said, marvelling at her dress. It was the one she wore for special occasions—one he had once told her was his favourite. A pang of guilt pricked at his heart as she looked back at him, her doe eyes filled with love.

“Come dance with me!” she said, pulling him toward the living room. “Both of you! My boys!”

Harry and Dylan followed her to the dance floor. The song Love My Way blared through the speakers, and Y/N moved between them, carefree and radiant.

At first, Harry danced with her, his focus entirely on Y/N. But then his gaze shifted to Dylan, who was swaying along with the music. Something unspoken passed between them, an invisible thread pulling them closer.

Harry laughed when Dylan moved towards him and for a moment they had forgotten everything around them. Dylan was just Dylan and Harry was just Harry, two boys who felt something they weren’t allowed to feel in the eyes of everyone else.

Harry was so close, their faces almost touching and for a moment Dylan thought they might kiss. But the blissful moment was broken as Harry stepped away, shaking his head, “N-No.” He whispered, “No, No, No.” He shook his head, his eyes frantic in search of Y/N.

“O-Oh, Harry,” Y/N yelped as he grabbed hold of her hand and lead her out of Ellis’ dorm and over to her own, three doors down from where the party was happening.

“What are you doing? Are you okay?” She cups his face in her hands and he exhales, trying to regain composure. This was the girl he loved, the only girl he could ever love and being in her hands felt like home. Didn’t it?

“Y-Y/N, I-I think I’m ready.” He presses his forehead against hers, kissing her bottom lip. “I’m ready.”

Her lips part in shock. She hadn’t been expecting this tonight and she wasn’t sure where Harry’s sudden desperation was coming from. He kissed down her neck as she tried to speak to him, “H-Harry, a-are you sure?” He nodded, his mouth leaving open mouthed kisses on her shoulder.

“I love you Y/N.” He looked into her eyes and she saw the sincerity behind them but also a hint of something else that she couldn’t quite place.

He started to peel her clothing off, his fingertips gently brushing against her soft skin. She tried to steady her breathing but her chest caved in and out as the oxygen in the room seemed to be escaping as he moved down her body. “Harry,” She whispered and he could hear the desperation in her voice. She reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers together.

Y/N was stripped down to her bra and underwear. This was the most skin she had revealed to anybody but she trusted Harry with everything in her, he was her best friend. He blew warm air over the thin material of her bra and her nipples hardened, an overwhelming sense of desire and lust flooding her insides. It was so new and overwhelming, her hands shaking as she ran her fingers through his hair and tugged on the roots.

“Baby,” He whispered, his hands cupping her thighs as he pressed kisses down her body.

“Harry, wait.” She murmured, his eyes looking up from where he was laying between her legs, “You’re still dressed.” She sat up and tugged on the hem of his sweater.

He laughed softly, as she struggled to pull the sweater over his head. She marvelled at the sound and kissed the tip of his nose. He pulled her onto his lap and she grinded her hips against his, “God look at you.” He whispered. “Don’t leave me Y/N. You can never leave me.”

“I’m never going to.” She said it like it was a promise.

His hands hooked the straps of her bra and he gently pulled them down, her breath hitching as the pad of his thumb brushed against the side of her breast. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in tightly, his face burying into the crook of her neck as he inhaled her.

This was going to be perfect, she thought, nothing could go wrong.

She grinded her hips against him again, a groan eliciting from his lip and a name escaping past the lips he had kissed her with so many times.

“Dylan.” Y/N froze. Her blood ran cold, and she pulled away as though Harry’s touch burned her.

“What did you say?” She pulled away, suddenly being naked in front of him didn’t feel right, being in a space alone with him didn’t feel right, everything she had ever felt for him before this moment didn’t feel right.

“Y/N,” He reached for her but she slipped away from him, slipped out of his touch, a touch she begged for just moments ago.

Harry’s heart no longer existed, wherever it was it had abandoned him and left him here in this terrible moment to fend for himself. He felt his eyes well up with tears as he watched Y/N try to pick up her discarded clothes. This wasn’t how it was meant to be, she was suppose to be picking up his clothes after a night making love to each other.

“Y-You said his name.” Y/N whimpered, she was panicking and Harry could do nothing but watch.

“Baby I-”

“NO.” She spat, “You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore.”

Harry watched as she turned around and clutched at her head, her knees buckling as she fell to the ground. She sobbed and sobbed, his hear wrenching at the sound of it. He had never heard a sound so painful in his life and he wanted to die in this very moment.

“No, No, No, No.” She sobbed, her shoulders shaking.

“Y/N please just let me explain.” Harry tried, crouching down in front of her and trying to place a hand on her now clothed shoulder.

“NO.” She pushed him away and leaped back, her back hitting the wall.

Harry was broken. He was truly broken. This was something well out of his reach in fixing and nothing he could do or say could make up for the fact that he had hurt the two people he loved and cherished the most in this world, in the span of one night.

“Get out of my room!” She began to scream, “Get out of here!”

A knock at the door shattered the silence.

“Hey, you guys in there?” Dylan’s voice called from the hallway.

Before Harry could respond, Y/N lunged for the door, anger blazing in her eyes.

“Get out of my room!” she screamed, her voice raw with betrayal.

Harry caught her before she reached Dylan, her fists pounding against his chest. “I’m broken,” she whimpered, her strength fading. “You broke me.”

And for the first time, Harry knew what it felt like to be utterly powerless.

. . .

Then — 2000

Dear Diary,

You know those secrets so big they feel like they could swallow you whole? The kind you promise never to tell a soul for as long as you live? At first, they consume you, taking over every thought and breath. But over time, they settle into the corners of your mind, a quiet part of you that only stirs when something triggers it.

Well, today I made one of those secrets.

It was a Tuesday, the day I volunteer in the library after school. There’s something peaceful about wandering the empty halls when no one else is around—a stark contrast to the chaos between periods. Mrs. Ableton asked me to deliver a stack of books to the English Literature cupboard. Our copies of The Catcher in the Rye were practically falling apart, so we’d ordered replacements.

As I walked through the hall, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye near the classroom where Harry and I have English together. Curious, I paused, almost dropping the books in my hands.

Harry was leaning against a desk, and Dylan stood in front of him. At first, I thought nothing of it and smiled, reaching for the door handle to make myself known. But then Dylan stepped closer, touched Harry’s hand, and kissed him.

I froze.

I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The same lips that had kissed mine were now kissing the lips of my best friend.

I wanted to cry, but I was too shocked to do anything but stand there, watching. A part of me hoped I was trapped in a nightmare—that I’d wake up, call Harry, and laugh about how silly it all was. But when Dylan pulled back, Harry grabbed his arm and kissed him again.

That time, I couldn’t watch.

I backed away, the tears finally falling. My mind raced as I searched for somewhere—anywhere—I could cry louder, scream even, because this wasn’t something I could cry about quietly.

Harry was mine. But he was also Dylan’s.

By the time I went to bed, I’d convinced myself I would confront them. I’d tell them I saw what happened and ask if we could move on, pretend it never happened. But as the hours stretched on, I realized I didn’t want to speak about it. Talking about it would mean reliving it, over and over.

I didn’t want to remember.

I just wanted Harry.

So, this is a secret I’ll take to my grave. I’ll never tell a soul I watched Harry kiss Dylan in a way he never kissed me.

Even if it breaks me.

. . .

Now — 2000

“What happened?” Dylan asked. They were back in his dorm now, Harry pacing the room like a caged animal.

“She knows,” Harry muttered, his fingers pulling at his hair—a habit whenever he was upset. “She knows about us, what we did.”

Dylan collapsed onto the bed, his face pale. “How?”

Harry stopped and turned to him, shame written all over his face. “I said your name.”

Dylan’s shoulders sagged, and he buried his face in his hands. Images of Y/N, broken and sobbing on her bedroom floor, flashed through his mind. She had begged them to fix her, but they were the ones who broke her.

“It’s fine,” Harry rambled, his voice shaking. “I-I’ll give her some time, however long she needs. Then I’ll explain. I’ll explain it was a misunderstanding.”

“Harry,” Dylan said gently, standing to take Harry’s hands in his own. “I don’t think there’s enough time in the world for Y/N to get over this.”

Harry’s breath hitched, and a sob escaped him as he crumpled into Dylan’s arms. Dylan ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, resting his cheek against Harry’s head. “It’s okay, love,” he whispered. “Everything will be alright.”

“I hurt her so bad, Dylan,” Harry cried. “I love her, and I hurt her.”

“She was always going to find out,” Dylan said softly, the truth cutting deeper than any lie.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” Harry whispered.

Dylan sighed. “Why do you always talk about how things are meant to be? You act like your life was mapped out before you left the womb. Was it ‘meant to be’ that the three of us became inseparable? That you fell in love with both of us because you care so deeply? That I fell in love with you because you see art in everything? None of this was ‘meant to be,’ Harry. It just happened. And now we deal with it.”

Harry pulled back, tears streaking his face. “You still love me? Even after I pushed you away?”

Dylan smiled sadly, wiping a tear from Harry’s cheek. “I love you despite everything.”

Harry’s lips ghosted over Dylan’s, and for a moment, it felt like all their pain had been lifted. “Dylan,” Harry whispered, his voice trembling as he said the name again and again, like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“You can say my name as much as you want, love,” Dylan murmured. “I’ll always be here.”

. . .

Three weeks passed and the friends were no longer talking to each other, instead they acted as though they didn’t know each other as they passed each other in the hallway.

Harry had to try and not flinch when he saw Y/N scurry pass him, her eyes red and bloodshot as Ellis comforted her, glaring at Harry as they did. He wanted to speak to her but he was never given the chance to, rightly so considering what he had done to her.

Dylan and Harry, mostly Harry, thought it would best to keep their distance for a while. It killed them both to not be around each other but for the sake of their friendship with Y/N, they shared small moments of brief eye contact and touches throughout the day. Neither of them knew what was to come for the both of them but this limbo was enough for now.

Dylan ate lunch alone and as he did, he listened to the conversations of everyone around him. He wondered what it felt like for them to go about their day feeling like they belong in their own skin and not feel ashamed over who they love. He had never felt so alienated and so out of touch with himself.

He had been given an after school detention for an hour with Mr Henley after calling him sexist in front of the class. No one was around when he left the classroom until he saw a group of girls walking across the field.

At the end of the line was Y/N, wearing her netball uniform.

She must have caught sight of him because the next thing he knew, she was walking up to him. He had to check behind him to see he was seeing correctly.

“Hi Dylan,” She keeps her distance for reasons unknown to him but being around her again made him relax, he missed the friendship he shared right at the very beginning when they were thirteen and picking each other up from class to go to the sweet shop after school.

“Hey Y/N.” He offers her a smile.

“How are you doing?” He didn’t miss the way she gripped her bag like she was trying to stop herself from saying anything she really wanted to.

“I feel like I should be asking you that.” Y/N huffs, “I’ve had better days.” “Y/N-”

“Just tell me this,” She starts, “H-How long?”

Dylan decided he would be as honest and as straight to the point as he could be, it was what she deserved at least.

“Y/N the only thing we did was kiss one time. Harry stopped it because he’s in love with you.”

“And you’re in love with him.”

“Y-Yes.”

Y/N laughs incredulously, “We could never just be three best friends could we? It was always going to be complicated.”

“We could still be best friends Y/N.”

“But it’s not the same now is it?” She bit back and Dylan realised he needed to be careful with what he said. “Is he sad?”

“Terribly. Sometimes I hear him crying in his room at night.”

A silence fell between them which was strange. Y/N and Dylan has always had a brother-sister relationship, Dylan was always one to tease Y/N and make her laugh but right now it seemed all he was doing was making her upset.

“I’m moving schools.” Y/N confessed, “At the end of the term, I’m moving to Bridgewater. Mum’s moving in with her fiancee, and she wants me to be closer.”

“When were you going to tell us?” Dylan was shocked.

“I was given the choice. I could stay here or move to another school but if I stayed I’d have to stay at my dad’s during the holidays and I’m not in the mood to be lectured during my time away from school.”

Dylan didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t fathom the three of them not being together for such a long period of time. “I know what you’re thinking. I know I need to tell him but if we are going to have a shot at being friends again, I need to be away from you both.”

“Y/N,” Dylan shakes his head, “It doesn’t have to be like this,”

“You know I saw you when you kissed each other in the English Literature classroom?” She confessed, Dylan’s lips parting. “He kissed you in a way that he never kissed me. Everytime we kissed afterwards all I could think about was how different it was, how I desperately wanted him to kiss me the way I had seen him kiss you. I used to write in my diary about how I would die if I didn’t have him near me. I thought he would be the end of me but I didn’t realise you would be too.”

“I know he loves you Dylan and... I’m happy for you but I’m not selfless enough to stand beside you both and watch you fall in love when I so desperately love him too.”

“Y/N,” Dylan reaches out for her hand and takes it, “I’m sorry.” “I know Dylan, I know.”

. . .

Now — 2000

Harry’s leg wouldn’t stop jittering as he sat outside the school library on a Tuesday evening. He’d been waiting for this moment for weeks, replaying it over and over in his mind. He had spent countless hours rehearsing his apology to Y/N until it became a permanent loop in his thoughts.

When the library door swung open, he shot up immediately, brushing down his school trousers and running a hand through his hair. Y/N stepped out, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and her backpack slung over her shoulder.

She looked better than she had in weeks, and Harry’s heart ached at the sight of her. He would have carried her bag for her if they were still together.

Her expression changed when she saw him, her voice barely above a whisper. “H-Harry.”

“I came,” he said quickly, the words tumbling out. “I-I couldn’t believe it when I got your text. I’d have waited here for hours if you hadn’t shown up.”

Her face softened briefly, but she walked past him. “Follow me,” she said simply.

He trailed behind her as she led him to the gardens—the place where they’d shared their first kiss and filmed the music video for his and Dylan’s project. It was a space filled with memories of the three of them: Y/N doing homework, Dylan reading, and Harry strumming his guitar.

They sat down on the swinging bench, a familiar seat now heavy with unspoken tension. Harry noticed she kept her distance, and though every fiber of his being wanted to pull her close, he knew it wasn’t the right time.

“Who gave you those?” Harry finally asked, nodding at the flowers in her hand. A flicker of hope crossed his face.

“Debbie,” she said, referring to the school librarian. “It’s my last day working at the library.”

“You quit?” Harry frowned, his gaze flicking from the flowers to her face.

Y/N inhaled deeply before speaking. “I’m leaving, Harry.”

The wind seemed to leave him. “N-No,” he stammered, shaking his head. “You—you can’t. You can’t just leave. I won’t let you—”

“Harry,” she interrupted, reaching for his hand and holding it gently in her lap. “It’s what’s best.”

“How can you say that?” he asked, trying to pull his hand away, though her warmth made it impossible. “How can you say it’s what’s best? The three of us—we’re supposed to be together.”

“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she looked at him. He looked thinner, more tired than she’d ever seen him, but she couldn’t help him—not anymore.

“Y/N, the thing with Dylan...” Harry began, his voice cracking. “I-I never meant for it to happen. We were just alone, I was stressed, and my emotions got the better of me. But I don’t feel the same way about him as I do about you.”

She shook her head softly. “Maybe that’s true, but not in the way you think. Dylan has always been there for you, Harry, in ways I never could. The way you look at him... it’s like he hung the stars in the sky just for you, like he tilted the sun so it would never blind you but still brighten your world.

“Maybe you do love me,” she continued, her voice trembling, “but love isn’t just about taking care of someone. It’s not carrying my backpack because it’s too heavy or doing my homework when I’m too tired after netball. Love is about being vulnerable. It’s about being taken care of, about laughing and crying and feeling like your heart is burning, and nothing can put it out.

“Now tell me, Harry. Did you ever feel that way with me? Were you ever vulnerable with me?”

Harry’s heart cracked. He opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t find the words.

“Please, Y/N,” he whimpered, his voice breaking. “I can’t be without you.”

“You have Dylan,” she said, trying to be the bigger person even though it shattered her inside. “It was never going to be me, Harry. Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have feelings for him?”

Harry looked down at the ground, his silence all the confirmation she needed.

Her heart broke all over again, but she forced herself to stay strong. “Why do you have to go?” he asked, tears streaming down his face.

“Because, Harry,” she said gently, “what good would it do for the three of us if I stayed? You need to find out who you are, and so do I. Before me, it was you and Dylan. Now, it will end that way - with you and Dylan.”

“And what about you?” he asked desperately. “What will you do? Where will you go?”

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “But I’m grateful for what I’ve had. You and Dylan will always be a part of me. I hope one day we’ll forget this pain, and everything will be okay again.”

She reached out, brushing his hair back the way she used to. “I love you, Harry. I love you so much, I feel like I could burst.”

“I love you too,” he murmured. For the first time, he meant it in a way that felt true—not as a lover, but as a best friend.

“Be brave,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And tell him you love him.”

Harry nodded as the tears fell freely, clinging to her like a child who didn’t want to let go.

She was going to love him forever. She now knew he wouldn’t.

. . .

“She’s gone,” Dylan said softly from the doorway of Harry’s bedroom.

Harry sat at his desk, a pen still in his hand though it hovered, unmoving, above the page. “Was she alright?” he murmured.

“She was better than we probably thought,” Dylan admitted, realizing how much they’d underestimated Y/N’s strength. They’d always thought it was their job to protect her, but she’d always been stronger than the two of them combined.

“Right,” Harry muttered, his voice hollow.

Dylan moved to sit on the bed, the springs creaking under his weight. “I was thinking we could have the leftover soup for dinner instead of going to the dining hall.”

“I’m not hungry,” Harry replied—a rare admission from someone who was always hungry.

Dylan frowned. “How long are you going to wallow in this? Can’t you see we’re both trying to do the right thing for your benefit?”

Harry turned to him, anger flashing in his eyes. “And what exactly are you doing?”

“I’ve been keeping my distance,” Dylan snapped. “Acting like we’re strangers when we’re the complete opposite. Do you know how much it kills me to not be near you? To have to hide from myself?”

Harry stood abruptly. “And you think I’m not struggling? You think I haven’t been grappling with everything I feel?”

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit!” Dylan shouted, standing to meet Harry’s gaze. “You had someone who loved you for two whole years. You have everything, Harry—loving parents, the best grades, popularity. And you act like it’s all been taken from you because I kissed you!”

“Y/N is gone because of us!” Harry yelled back.

“No,” Dylan said fiercely, his voice rising. “She’s gone because of you! Because you’re too afraid to be honest about who you are! Because you care too much about what everyone else thinks. That’s why she’s gone!”

Their faces were inches apart, their anger radiating in the small space between them.

“How dare you? Can’t you see this is difficult for me to accept?” Harry shouted, his voice trembling with anger and frustration.

“What is?” Dylan snapped back, stepping closer. “What is so difficult, Harry? What’s so hard that you have to sit in the dark and ignore the only two people who’ve ever truly cared about you? Huh? What is it? Tell me. TELL ME.”

“I am in love with you!” Harry yelled, the words ripping out of him like they had been clawing to escape for years. “I am a fool, and I am in love with you.”

Dylan froze, stunned. His breath caught in his throat as the weight of Harry’s confession settled over him. The words he had dreamed of hearing for years hung in the air between them, impossible to ignore.

“What?” Dylan managed, his voice barely a whisper.

“I have loved you since the moment I met you,” Harry said, his voice softer now but no less raw. “And it’s been killing me every day since. I think of you—daily, nightly, every moment in between—and it tears me apart. Kissing you was the bravest thing I’ve ever done, and denying it afterward made me a coward. But here I am now, standing in front of you, a man stupidly, hopelessly in love with his best friend.”

Harry’s eyes were red and glassy, the weight of years of unspoken emotion etched into his every feature.

Dylan stared at him, speechless. He had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was real, the depth of Harry’s vulnerability left him breathless.

“Kiss me,” Dylan whispered, his voice breaking. “Kiss me.”

Harry didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, cupping Dylan’s face in his hands as though it had been crafted to fit perfectly in his palms. Then he kissed him—fervent and unrestrained, pouring every ounce of his love and longing into that singular moment.

Dylan’s world ignited. A piece of him that had been dormant for years finally came alive. His heart and mind, long at odds, now burned in harmony as Harry’s lips moved against his. He felt consumed, but in the most beautiful way, as if he could lose himself in Harry forever and never once regret it.

“I love you too, Harry,” Dylan whispered when they finally parted, their foreheads resting together.

“I bloody well hope so,” Harry murmured, a small laugh escaping his lips as tears spilled down his cheeks.

. . .

Now

Dear Harry,

I’d like to tell you a story that will more than likely make you happy.

One day, I was sat in a café, only a twenty-minute walk away from Southend Park School, which is closed down now and turned into a factory to fix airplanes. I bought my usual order of a decaf cappuccino and a slice of toffee apple cake. On this particular day, they added more sugar to my cappuccino, so I knew it would be a good day.

Across from me, a woman sat, her dog lying down at her feet as she read The Catcher in the Rye whilst sipping on a fruit tea. I didn’t think much of it, but I found it interesting the way she would read something and then shakily jot something down in the little notebook on the table.

Anyway, I had originally come to the café so I could write about our trip to Brighton. You were still complaining about the sand in your clothes just last night despite the fact that Brighton has no sand.

“It’s alright, love,” I comforted you, helping you put your pyjamas on.

“It bothers me, Dylan.” You responded, coughing into your handkerchief.

We don’t leave our small bungalow very often because you don’t like to leave the dogs and I don’t like change, but this trip to Brighton was one we had been planning for a year or so, so we didn’t really have much choice in the matter.

We spent a lot of time sat on the beach in the evenings whilst we were there, a blanket wrapped around the both of us as we fed the seagulls. I remember you saying you liked the sound of the ocean because it made you feel like we were seventeen again, running into the ocean without a care in the world.

You then proceeded to mention how worried you are about our Y/N, “I hope she’s doing alright, our Y/N.” You said and then went back to talking about a programme you watched the night before.

You had always worried about Y/N in the years after she left, always asking where she was or what she was up to despite the fact we never got in contact with her again. I also wonder whether or not she is okay, and I knew that if I were to see her again, I would thank her for allowing us the space to fall in love.

It was awfully difficult those months after we kissed in your bedroom. We were constantly berated by people we had never spoken to before, and I knew it bothered you for a while, but we overcame it just like we did every other obstacle in our lives... together.

Anyway, as I continued to write about our trip, the door to the café opened again and three middle-aged people walked over to the elderly lady in the corner. “Come on Mum, we’ve got to say goodbye to Dad now,” the man spoke to her, and she swatted him away. Something about that small action gave me a strong sense of déjà vu.

“Give me a moment,” the woman responded, and the three children sat at the table in the chairs around her.

Eventually, they managed to get her standing up. One of them placed her coat around her shoulders, and another handed her her walking stick. When she turned to look at me, I saw a familiar set of eyes looking straight at me.

The three people aiding her walked to the door and held it open for her. As she was about to step out the door, her walking stick fell out of her shaky hands and right at my feet. I quickly picked it up and handed it to her, her face brightening at the sight of me.

“Thank you.” Her voice still sounded the same all that time ago.

“No... Thank you, my darling.”

[smartkookiee]

How to Lose A Guy in 30 Days! || Ch.2 — jjk.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: strangers to lovers, 18+ ❥chapter warnings/tags: software engineer!Jungkook, writer!Reader, fluff (tooth rot worthy), yay first date woohooooo, Jungkook having an immense knowledge about fish(like a nerd), rom com clichés left and right, cute Jungkook, early 2000’s rom com vibes??, kissing, drinking (if you squint), ❥word-count: 8.6k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter ❥Playlist fic is cross posted to ao3 - send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list. ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

“I can’t believe you’re going out with him tomorrow.” Ronnie bumped her hip against yours as she sat down on your couch next to you, “And on a Sunday.”

It was the night after. Ronnie invited herself over to your place rather than planning to hang out, but it worked out because Jungkook took a quick step forward. he sent you a nice good morning text and asked if you were available tomorrow to go out. You had tried–really tried–to come up with any possible excuse to put off the date but alas fell short. So you agreed, you thought  sooner this got started the sooner you could be done with it. 

 “Well we have to start somewhere.” Which wasn’t a lie, even so, Jungkook’s text was a surprise. “I actually didn’t expect him to act so soon.”

Ronnie laughed, clearly amused, “What are you guys going to do? Dinner? Dancing? Skydiving?” 

“I don’t know.” You slumped back further into the cushions. “He said he was planning something. I made a jab about him not being a serious guy, and now he’s all, I’ll show you how serious I can be.” 

“How serious he can be ? It’s a first date not a proposal.”

“We’ll see, I guess. Honestly, I have no idea how to go about this. I’m supposed to date him, but then, you know... gradually become annoying or crazy.” You gestured vaguely, not even sure what annoying or crazy would look like yet.

“I know just who can help with that.” Ronnie patted you on the knee and then immediately started typing frantically on her phone. 

“Oh no.” You knew immediately what she was doing. 

Twenty minutes later, a myriad of knocks came from your front door. Opening your door, and in walked Jin with a flourish, his signature grin plastered across his face. In one hand, he held a bottle of wine, and in the other, a notepad that looked suspiciously like it had been used for devious plans before. He paused dramatically in the doorway, like a game show host about to reveal a grand prize.

“I’ve been summoned.” Jin declared, his voice as grand as his entrance.

An already exhausted sigh leaves you, “Oh hi. So good to see you, come on in.” Your voice drips with sarcasm. You let your door close and you make your way back onto the couch next to Ronnie. Settling in for whatever Jin clearly had prepared

Jin had placed himself in the front of your living tiny living room, like he had prepared a full presentation just for this occasion. “I was told my assistance was needed so I am here to grant it.” He did a small bow before the two of you and you roll your eyes.

“Here we go.” You tease but Jin looked a little offended. 

“You,” He hits your leg with his note pad, and your mouth falls open at the gesture. “My dear, have a tendency to stray from the goal. You’re going on a date with this guy–”

“You told him?” You gave a side eye to Ronnie, you were of course going to tell Jin but probably but maybe not till after the date had concluded. He had a tendency to meddle. 

Innocently, Ronnie shrugged. “You need a strong team to help you, who better than Jin to have around.” 

“Exactly.” Jin perked up and you decided to surrender and listen. “As your coach I am going to make sure we you to the end game…” He gestures to you like he is expecting and answer to the end of his sentence. 

“To lose the guy in 30 days.” 

“Correct !” Jin pulls a pen seemingly out of nowhere, Marking something down on his notepad. “One point for you.” 

“Wait, we are getting points?” Ronnie perked up, her clear competitive side showing through. 

“Indeed!” Jin confirmed with a grin, enjoying the theatrics. “Anyways—”

“Hold on.” You cut him off, curiosity getting the better of you. “What do we get if we win?”

Jin paused, clearly not expecting this twist. He groaned, tapping his pen against his chin, deep in thought. After a moment, he dramatically sighed. “Fine. I’ll buy your dinner next time we go out.”

“Deal.” You and Ronnie said in unison, sharing a knowing look. Giving each other a sportsmanlike handshake.

Jin waits for a moment like he is a teacher in class, “May I begin?” You and Ronnie both nod and settle back into the couch. “Firstly we need to go over your big rules for this.”

“Rules?”

“Important things to remember!” Jin cleared his throat. With a quick flip of his notepad, he glanced down, all business now. “Rule number one—”

“You made rules already?” You interrupt him again.

He cut you off with a finger to his lips, “Number one. We will not be falling in love with Jungkook .”

“I’m not going to fall in love with him. I don’t even know him!” You sit up with some protest. 

Jin narrowed his eyes, his glare accusing. “You have a tendency to fall a little too easily for wit and charm! Remember, Jungkook is a serial fuck boy!” Jin paused for effect and turns around his notepad and underlines the note he has that says, in all caps: SERIAL FUCKBOY. Followed by other rules and scribbles along the rest of the page.

Ronnie let’s out a little laugh and you resign yourself back, “Okay fair point.”

 “What’s the first rule?” Jin repeats pointing his pen back at you. 

“We will not fall in love with Jungkook!” Ronnie raises her hand but blurts it out and you just huff a little. Although this rule was fair, you knew it but it didn’t feel great to be called out on it. 

“Point to Ronnie. Rule number two.” Jin waves his pen around in the air like its a wand, “Be annoying at any given opportunity but not too annoying. So sending too many texts, memes, calling him at inappropriate times.”

“Or calling one too many times!” Ronnie added on to the end of his statement. 

“Half point for adding an idea.” Jin scribbled on his pad for a moment. 

You scratched the side of your head, feeling a twinge of discomfort. “Okay, this one might actually be hard.”

Jin arched a brow. “Why?”

You shifted a little, pulling your knees up onto the couch. “I don't like to... overbear myself. I usually let people have their space, give them time... It’s just not who I am.”

Jin clicked his tongue, wiggling his finger at you like a disappointed parent. “This is why you need to fight your people-pleasing instincts! A delicate task, but one you must master.” 

You sighed, already feeling anxiety welling in your chest from the internal battle in your mind. “I know, I know. I’ll try.”

“Good girl.” Jin praised, patting your head dramatically. “If it’s too hard, just let one of us take over. We’ve got no skin in the game, so we can be as obnoxious as we want.” He gestured to himself and then Ronnie, who had an evil expression across her face.

“I’ll take any opportunity to torture a man.” Ronnie wiggled her eyebrows at you, and nudged her with your shoulder.

Jin clapped his hands together, refocusing the energy in the room. “Now, what’s rule number two?”

“Be annoying at any given opportunity.” You sigh and repeat it back to him. 

“Point to Y/N.” Jin marked down on his notepad again, “Rule number three. This is not going to be a serious relationship. Period.”

“This is a rule?”

“More like a reminder.” Jin looked a little more serious, “You have a tendency to fall into the I can fix him trap. That is not the case here, this guy does not want anything long term. So you have to avoid your natural attachment instincts.” 

“As well as your situation will be starting on false pretenses.” Ronnie pointed out, which was true. All of this was starting on a lie. An experiment.

“Okay that’s fair.”

Funny enough though, this is the most detached you had ever felt going into a first date. Other first dates you had been really nervous or really excited and you were thinking through every word and every touch a little too deeply. This time felt totally laid back and different. Like it might be easy and you could keep yourself from falling into your usual habits.

“Rule number three?” Jin waved, waiting for the answer. 

Both you and Ronnie repeated at the same time, “This is not going to become a serious relationship.”

“Point to you both.” 

The game continued for a while, with Jin rattling off a mixture of absurd, funny, and surprisingly thoughtful rules. Some had you rolling your eyes, others made you laugh. There was something about the way Jin played this out—keeping you focused on the goal without letting the seriousness of it weigh you down.

In the back of your mind, you realized what he was doing. Jin was good at that, pulling you out of your overthinking spiral and making everything feel lighter. It wasn’t about figuring out all the answers now—it was just a date. All the complicated stuff? You could deal with that later. He had this way of turning every dilemma into something manageable, even fun.

Jungkook wasn’t some life-altering mystery; he was just a random guy. By the end of this, it would be nothing but a funny story. One of those "remember when" tales you'd laugh about in the future. Difficult? Maybe. But funny? Definitely. 

However much you were planning a sabotage, Jungkook was trying to plan the greatest first date ever. Except it wasn’t going quite as planned. Jungkook had not been on a real first date in years. What did people do on first dates anymore? 

“Fun things to do on first dates… reddit.” Jungkook muttered to himself, typing on his phone.. Hoseok didn’t quite hear what Jungkook was mumbling and looked over his shoulder to see what he was searching for. 

“Don’t tell me you are consulting reddit for date ideas.” He chuckled but stopped when he realized how serious Jungkook looked. “Dude, come on. Since when do you care this much about a first date?” 

Jungkook groaned, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t remember the last time I was on a real one, Hobi. It’s been... a while. Every 'date'I’ve been on, we both knew what it was about. No expectations.” He frowned at his phone, closing the tab in frustration. “I don’t want it to be lame.”

“If I didn’t know you better I would think you cared or something.” Hoseok pinched Jungkook’s cheek with some exaggerated affection, but Jungkook pushed him away.

“Well that’s the thing. We have to be able to talk and get to know each other. Which I suck at.” To Hoseok, Jungkook actually looked to be concerned and it seemed important. Hoseok would almost believe Jungkook wanted to prove a bigger point by winning this bet against Jimin and Taehyung. 

“And usually you spend your time what… not really talking?” Hoseok thought but felt stupid for even questioning it. “Right. I forgot who I was talking too.”

Jungkook shifted uncomfortably. “Okay, okay, I get it. I don’t exactly… excel in the conversation department.”

“Excel in other things apparently.” Hoseok laughed and Jungkook rubbed his face out of frustration. 

“Well now I need to change my ways.” Jungkook groaned a little before thinking, “You know, a really good friend would help me in my time of need.”

“No.”

“Please?”

Hoseok looked straight ahead, trying to ignore the pleading. “No way. I’m not getting sucked into that ridiculous group bet you guys cooked up. I have standards, you know.” Hoseok held his ground, knowing he will fold if he saw Jungkook’s pathetic face. Jungkook was giving him that sad little pouty face anyways. 

“Please Hobi. I’ll owe you big time.” Jungkook whined and shook Hoseok by the shoulders. "Plus you are great on first dates.”

“You don’t know that.” 

“You always have these great date stories. You’re really good at this stuff.” Jungkook settled back and let Hoseok go. 

Hoseok sighed and gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re not as hopeless as you think, you know. You’re just out of practice.”

Jungkook instantly perked up. “I knew you couldn’t resist helping me.”

“Yeah yeah whatever, but this is the last time I will help you with any of this.” Hoseok gave a warning finger to Jungkook, “I’m only doing this for this poor girl.”

“Deal.” Jungkook nodded quickly, ready to move on, but Hoseok wasn’t done.

“Be honest with me though.” Hoseok’s tone was even more serious now and Jungkook gave his full attention, “Are you going to tell this girl the truth when this is all over? It’s messed up if you’re just dating her to win the money and then dump her.” 

Jungkook froze for a second. The thought hadn’t fully crossed his mind in detail before now, which in itself, was a red flag. He had been so focused on the logistics of the bet and the potential payoff that he hadn’t considered the real impact on you. A real person with real feelings, which was fucked up that he hadn't thought about that first. Which, made him kind of a huge dick by default. 

“Yeah. I’ll tell her the truth. I’ll be completely honest once it’s all over. And then… she can decide what she wants to do.” “Okay… just feels really shitty. If you are only dating her for the money.” Hoseok pointed out, not fully convinced by Jungkook’s statement.

Jungkook bit his lip. Hoseok had a point, and now that it was out in the open, it ate at him. The bet really felt harmless in nature. A chance to see if Jungkook was even built for dating anymore. The money was a nice bonus, sure, and getting to date an attractive woman didn’t hurt either. But now, he was starting to see the faults in all of this.

It had been… longer than he liked to admit since he’d dated someone seriously. Even longer since he’d genuinely liked someone. He didn’t want this to turn into some shallow game where feelings got stomped on in the process.

“I promise I am going to give this a real shot. Beyond the money. I will be as real as I can be.” Jungkook was sure and confident in his answer. Even if he wasn’t so confident in how he was feeling about dating again. 

Hoseok studied Jungkook for a moment, but found he was satisfied with the answer. “Who knows maybe this will turn out really good for you. If you take it seriously, maybe this could be something really great.” 

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Day 1

Leaving the train station, all the nerves you thought you didn’t have about all of this rushed through you. Your heart thudded in your chest as you made your way up unfamiliar streets. You checked in with Jungkook this morning about the plan and he had sent you and the address to what looked to be a cafe. That’s what you’d seen when you pulled it up on Maps, and yet, it felt like more than just a casual coffee date. A sense of unease tugged at you.

You had tried subtly fishing for details earlier, asking what you should wear, but he only responded vaguely with a simple ‘dress nice’. No clues. Just…nice. So, you were left to mull over your wardrobe, trying not to overthink it, but of course that did not work.

Yesterday, you had convinced yourself this would be no big deal , but now? It felt like you were walking yourself into a trap you laid yourself. Yes this was for work but you couldn’t help but feel so strange with all of it. You had to keep reminding yourself, this was all business. This is for your professional career. 

It was the only thing that kept you grounded, instead of daydreaming. 

When you rounded the final corner and spotted the café, your stomach did a sharp flip. There he was, Jungkook. Standing by the door, leaning ever so casually against the wall. He looked different, so different that for a second, you almost didn’t realize it was him. He wasn’t the guy you’d run into casually at the bar anymore. No, he looked polished. Adult.

He wore a pair of well-tailored black slacks that hugged his hips, and a white button-up with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, showing off his tattoos in a way that made your heart skip. You didn’t really see his tattoos at the bar so now you had a chance to actually see them. 

Two buttons were left undone at the top, and you caught a glimpse of a silver chain against his skin. His dark hair, usually so relaxed, was flipped out at the ends, styled deliberately but effortlessly. He had on sunglasses, so you couldn’t quite read his expression.

 Oh no. Oh no no no. 

Because this Jungkook and the Jungkook at the bar were suddenly two completely different people. Jungkook at the bar was a guy you could easily mess with… this Jungkook… was exactly your type. 

Shit.

You pull out your phone and send a frantic text. 

:ABORT! 

Ronnie: The date hasn’t even started!

Ronnie: YOU CAN DO THIS!

:I can’t. He cleaned up. You were right I can’t do this. 

Ronnie: NO

Ronnie: REMEMBER YOUR RULES

This is not a serious relationship. You will not fall in love with Jungkook. He is a serial fuck boy. 

You could hear Jin’s words clearly in your mind. So clearly in fact, but another part of your mind and heart were speaking a little louder. That little part of you that liked that he put some thought into how he dressed for this. He actually took careful consideration into how he should present himself for you. It made that little pink heart of yours flutter with excitement. 

Snap out of it. He’s just a guy.

You shake your head, and ground yourself. You are a writer. You are doing this in the name of research and science. You can do this. This is just a date. A date. 

You force one foot in front of you, walking over to him, “Jungkook.” Flashing your best smile and give a small wave, the one you hope masks the unease swirling in your stomach.

Jungkook’s eyes snap up to meet yours, and his entire face lights up with a warm, easy grin that disarms you for a moment. He pushes a hand through his hair, letting the dark strands fall effortlessly back into place.

Jungkook found himself a little disarmed as well. He had gotten a lot of tips from Hoseok the night before about how he should act and carry himself if he wanted to do this right… but he didn’t expect you to look so cute. You’re dressed in something simple—casual but still pretty. Your smile was so warm and inviting he immediately felt that desire to pull any of his usual lines, but he fought that urge. 

This is not a hookup, this is a real date. 

“I’ve gotta hand it to you,” Jungkook says, his tone teasing. “I thought for sure you’d ditch me.”

You force a laugh, though it’s a little shaky, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your nerves are still very much present. “Had to see for myself if you could actually step up.”

He chuckles and steps back, spreading his arms out to his sides as if presenting himself for inspection. His confidence is palpable, and it makes it worse? Better? No, definitely worse. “Told you I could take this seriously.”

And he had. Hoseok actually decided Jungkook should go for dressy but simple. Simpler the better. Means you are seeing him and not a façade. Hoseok had warned him to not carry himself too high because it could come off as arrogant. So he retreated from his normal confident stance, trying to pull his natural instinct back a bit. Why was this so hard?

“That’s for me to judge.” You say, lifting your chin and tilting your head at him playfully. “Date’s barely begun.”

“Well,” Jungkook held the cafe door open for you, “I thought a quick coffee and a short train ride wouldn’t hurt to start.” 

“Do I get to know where we are going now?” 

“Now why ruin the magic?” Jungkook's tone is a little more flirtatious now. You couldn’t help it when it makes you blush, but you try to shake it off.

The two of you grabbed your drinks to-go and quickly left the café, heading toward the train station. The conversation so far had been light—small pleasantries exchanged, but nothing too deep. It felt like you were both easing into the moment, cautiously testing the waters. Jungkook, however, was doing a surprisingly good job of keeping things moving, keeping the energy up. He seemed determined to make sure this date went well, as if he had something to prove—not just to you, but maybe even to himself.

The city blurred past the windows, concrete and steel flashing by, though your mind wasn’t really on the view. The train rumbled beneath your feet, the soft hum of people chattering fading into the background. You were acutely aware of Jungkook standing so close, his presence hard to ignore.

“So here we are.” Jungkook said with a small smirk, leaning in just enough to catch your eye.

“Here we are.” You echoed, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I know we’ve got to do the usual first-date dance.” He continued, taking a casual sip of his drink. “So feel free to ask me whatever you want.”

“Anything?” You muse, sensing an opportunity for fun.

“Anything at all,” Jungkook replied, mirroring your playful tone. “I’m a completely open book.”

You paused for a beat, keeping the moment light. “Alright, let’s start simple. Job?”

“Engineer.” He replied confidently. “You?”

“Writer.” Your response was met with a raised brow from him.

“Very interesting.” Jungkook remarked, almost like he hadn’t expected that answer.

You tilted your head slightly. “How so?”

“I just don’t meet many writers. Journalist?”

“Correct.” You nod, impressed with his deduction. “Okay, your turn. Hobbies?”

Jungkook's eyes brightened at the question, and he leaned in a little closer, his hand still gripping the pole above. “Photography.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? What kind of work do you do?”

“Street photography.” He shot you a grin, clearly pleased. He didn’t get to talk about his photography very much these days. “Mostly just day to day things. People living their lives or things that I find pretty. I like how raw it feels.”

He didn’t think he would be sharing this but Hoseok did say he should be less afraid to share the more vulnerable sides of his personality. 

“That’s... actually really cool.” You admitted, genuinely impressed. It was clear this hobby wasn’t just for show. It was something he cared about. “Do you ever share your work?”

He looked down for a moment, a shy laugh escaping him. “Not really. I mean, I’ve shown a few to close friends, but it’s more for me. A way to... I don’t know, relax, I guess. Focus.”

You hadn’t realized it but you had become so laser focused on him now. You shook your head and had to remind yourself to come back to reality. Remember, he’s only saying these things to impress you; it’s not real.

Jungkook continued, “What about you?” 

“Painting. It’s a new hobby so I’m really terrible.” You laugh thinking about your really sad first attempt at watercolor sitting on your coffee table at home. You had tried to just do a simple flower but it definitely looks like a little creature instead. 

“Anything I could see?”

“God no.” You laugh a little too loud and embarrassed, “Trust me they are terrible.” You pause for a second and think, “Okay, how about your favorite food?” 

“Easy. Fried chicken.” His answer was quick, like it was non-negotiable. “Yours?”

“Pasta. Any kind, really.”

“Oh I make a really good carbonara.” He threw the comment out there seeing if you would bite. 

“Is this your invitation for a second date?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“We’ll have to find out.” 

You brush past his comment, “What’s the last movie you watched?”

“Interstellar. ”

You raised an eyebrow. “Not bad. So you’re into space stuff?”

“Who isn’t?” Jungkook's expression softened, eyes glinting with a bit of excitement. “You?”

“10 things I hate about you. ”

“Romance fan?”

“I’m a sucker for a good love story.” You shrug.

Jungkook laughed, glancing around the train as if to make sure no one else was eavesdropping on your banter. “Alright, one more from me: What’s something people don’t know about you?”

You leaned back in your seat, tapping your chin like you were really pondering it. “I’m embarrassingly bad at bowling.”

Jungkook laughed again, his grin wide and easy. “Awe so you’re saying our second date should be bowling?”

“Only if you’re okay with watching me throw gutter balls all night.” You teased.

“I’ll just have to teach you.” Jungkook quipped, his flirtation bubbling back to the surface. The playful tension between you building. 

Jungkook was surprised at himself, because he was actually good at this. Keeping things light, fun, yet somehow engaging enough to make you feel at ease. The back-and-forth flowed effortlessly, and before you knew it, the train slowed for your stop.

“So how am I doing so far?” Jungkook asked, as you both hopped off the train.

You took a slow sip of your coffee, drawing out the silence to keep him in suspense. Humming, you finally raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, the coffee’s good, so points there.” You mused, “But the scenery? It's left a lot to be desired.” You joke, gesturing subtly to the less-than-charming view from the train window.

“Well our next location will have a much better view I promise.” Jungkook assured, chewing on his lip.

Before long, the two of you arrived at your destination—the aquarium. To your surprise, despite the cliché of an aquarium being a typical first-date spot, there was something about it that immediately felt special. Jungkook had already secured the passes online, casually pulling them up on his phone as you neared the entrance. His relaxed demeanor seemed to contrast with your initial nerves, but seeing him here, comfortable in a place like this was calming in itself. 

“I’ve never been here, actually.” You observed, taking in the murals that adorned the entrance. Sea creatures, some extinct and some from modern day stretched up toward the high ceilings. It was both beautiful and intriguing, the imagery setting the tone for what lay inside.

Jungkook followed your gaze, a small smile tugging at his lips as he leaned a little closer. “Well, you’re in good hands. You’re with the foremost aquarium expert in the city.” He said with a playful glint in his eyes. “I’ve been coming here since I was a kid, so I can probably tell you more about the fish than the staff can.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his confidence. “Oh? A fish expert, huh? I’m expecting a seriously educated tour then. I want to walk away knowing everything about aquatic life.”

Jungkook chuckled, his grin widening. “Trust me, by the time we leave, you’ll be able to name at least three species of jellyfish without googling it.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “That’s quite the promise.”

Jungkook then guided you inside, the cool, dimly lit interior of the aquarium enveloped the both of you, contrasting sharply with the bright, bustling world outside. The gentle hum of water filtering through the tanks that expanded both walls of the exhibit, mixed with the occasional murmur of other visitors, created a serene atmosphere. It was pretty busy, most with other families and some teenagers running around. Jungkook led the way confidently through everyone, his playful energy still very present, but with an ease that was contagious.

Jungkook caught a glimpse of your profile as you took in the vibrant sea creatures. She looks intrigued, he thought. His heart raced a little, and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Maybe I’m doing a good job so far.

“Alright, let’s start here,” He pointed towards the first exhibit, a massive floor-to-ceiling tank filled with vibrant schools of tropical fish darting through the corals. “Fun fact—most of these fish are native to the Indo-Pacific region.”

“Impressive,” You say, glancing between him and the fish, already intrigued. “What else?”

Jungkook’s grin widened as he launched into an impromptu lecture about the ecosystem of coral reefs, his enthusiasm making it hard not to be drawn in. As much as you were supposed to be trying to find little annoyances for your plan, you couldn’t help but enjoy the flow of the conversation. It didn’t feel forced. Instead, it was comfortable—lighthearted, but surprisingly informative.

“Okay, okay.” You interrupted at one point, leaning slightly into him as you looked up at the jellyfish exhibit. The tank glowed softly with blue and purple lights, jellyfish gracefully floating like little underwater ghosts. “What about these? Teach me about jellyfish, Mr. Expert.”

“Ah, jellyfish,” Jungkook said dramatically, pausing like he was about to unveil a great mystery. “Jellyfish have what are called hydrostatic skeletons.”

“And what are those?” You blinked, you expression clearly saying you had no idea what that meant.

“They have no bones, they have circular muscles and they have to contract their muscles to move along the ocean.” He nodded. “There is also a species that is essentially immortal. Turritopsis dohrnii. They can reset to their juvenile form after reaching maturity, which allows them to avoid dying of old age. So, yeah, immortal jellyfish.”

You stared at him for a second, half-expecting him to say he was joking, but the serious expression on his face told you otherwise. “Okay, that’s actually super cool. You weren’t kidding when you said your probably know more than the staff.”

As the two of you wandered through the aquarium, it surprised you how easily the conversation flowed between the both of you. Jungkook pointed out different fish, talked about their unique traits, and asked you questions too, like what your favorite animal was or whether you had any pets growing up. It didn’t feel like an interrogation, but more like a genuine curiosity, and that put you more at ease.

You reached the penguin exhibit, and Jungkook stopped in front of the glass, his eyes lighting up as a group of penguins waddle by. “Penguins are the best.” He declared, “They mate for life, you know?”

“Now that I did know. I’ve seen the march of the penguins.” To be fair is was when you were extremely young and that may be the only fact you could pull from the movie. 

“I used to sit here and watch the penguins for hours. I just thought they were so cool when they would slide along on their bellies.” Jungkook mused and realized he had been guiding the conversation for a while now. “Seriously stop me anytime though. I can go on and on about animal facts.” 

“Don’t stop! I think it’s cute.” You said, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. The moment felt light and playful, and you liked it.

“Oh, so you think I’m cute?” Jungkook smirked, wiggling his brows. The thought sent a flutter through your chest, and you felt heat creeping up your cheeks. 

“Or just a nerd.” You pull yourself away in front of the exhibit and start to press on to the next section. “Come on geek!” 

It was hard to remember you were supposed to be finding ways to be annoying or difficult when things were going this smoothly. Maybe Jin and Ronnie would have to help more with that later because, right now, this was actually...fun. More fun than you had expected.

As you both continued on through the aquarium, the awkwardness that often accompanies first dates seemed to be non existent. By the time you reached the final exhibit—an enormous tank filled with sharks and stingrays gliding overhead. It surrounded the entire room and there were section you could go and stand and watch fish swim above you. You and Jungkook found a nice spot to sit and to just watch. You had a found a fascination with a rather large stingray floating around the tank. 

“I’m in heavy anticipation for your shark facts.” You kick your feet back and forth and glance to your side at Jungkook who was enraptured with the tank. 

“Maybe not a fun fact, but hammerheads will trap sting rays with their heads to the seafloor to catch and eat them.” 

“Huh,” He was correct, not so fun but still interesting, “I always wondered what their heads were good for.”

Jungkook hummed, a smile on his face. He had started the day nervous but he felt so comfortable now. The aquarium was actually Hoseok's idea, told Jungkook he should go somewhere where he could be at ease and maybe show off a little bit. Now showing off fish facts may have been unconventional, it was working here. You seemed to be really enjoying yourself, and laughing at most of his little jokes.

In that moment of silence, as he observed a sleek shark swim by, he glanced over at you, his voice softening. “So, how am I doing so far? Honestly.”

You looked at him, taking a beat before answering. “Well, I’ll admit I didn’t expect you to actually be this...interesting.” You teased, keeping it light. “But you’ve definitely surprised me.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his expression. “Surprised you in a good way, I hope?”

It was good, but horribly horribly bad. Because you weren’t sure if you could go through with this, Jungkook was nice and goofy. He took you somewhere he clearly really enjoyed and spent his day trying to make you laugh and smile. It was one of the best first dates you had been on in a long time. Maybe Jin had the completely wrong idea about Jungkook? Maybe this was all a mistake? Maybe you could find something real with Jungkook. 

You would have to find a different guy for your experiment, not ideal but you admittedly were already having a small crush on Jungkook. A small voice in the back of your mind was screaming, I told you so. I knew you couldn’t do this. You are too much of a gooey romantic to pull this off.  

“Good so far.” You smile, and turn your body to face him, “Okay, ask me anything you want. My turn to be an open book.” 

“Oh really?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow but also adjusted to face you. “Okay. What made you become a writer?” 

“Oh, good question.” You thought for a moment, “I used to be a mini reporter when I was younger. I used to dress up like an old 40’s style detective or journalist and I would write news stories about things happening in my neighborhood.” 

“Did you pick up anything juicy?”

You shook your head, laughing at the memory. “Not at all. It was usually just anything I saw happen. Like breaking news: Ryan fell off his bike, or Mrs. Johnson bought apples and milk from the store. It was never anything groundbreaking, but I loved it.” Excitement seeped into your tone. “As I got older, I realized I liked reporting and journalism of any kind, even trashy magazine writing. I just wanted to be one of them. Have my name on something like that.”

Jungkook listened intently, fascinated. He found himself wrapped up in how animated and alive you looked talking about your passion. He admired the way your hands danced through the air as you spoke, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to picture you living out your dreams, pen in hand, telling the stories of the world.

“So what are you writing now?” Jungkook wanted to hear more, hear more about what made you excited. 

You paused, because even though Jungkook didn’t know, that was a heavy question. “The promotion I mentioned the other night? I’m getting promoted from research to an actual writer for the magazine I’m at.” 

Jungkook eyebrows shot up, “That’s incredible.” 

“I know. It’s a huge deal and the piece I’m working on is… well.” You chewed on your lip, “It’s a research heavy piece and requires me to go out and do some actual field work.” 

“I want to read it when it’s done.” Jungkook had a genuine smile on his face and he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since you started. You had just now noticed and all of those first date nerves came bubbling up in you. 

“Oh, no.” You let out a breathy laugh, “It’ll be just a silly little think piece when it’s done.”

“So?” Jungkook tilted his head trying to meet your eyes, “I want to be your first reader when it’s published. Then I can walk around and brag about it.” 

You nervously laugh to yourself, “I’ll make sure you get the first copy.” 

Even though inside you were thinking, absolutely no way in hell is that happening . 

“Perfect,” He said, nodding eagerly. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The two of you settled back into a comfortable silence, your gaze drifting back to the mesmerizing display of fish swimming above. You couldn’t help but feel lighter.

“So what do you think your ultimate goal as a writer is?” It surprised you little when he continued, you didn’t think he would want to know more about it. 

“I think…” You said for a moment, watching a school of fish go by in the glass. “I want to be a funny writer but also someone who makes you think. I want my work to feel real but also force you to really examine yourself.” 

“Well when you get famous and stuff,” Jungkook stood from his seat, “I get to say I knew you.” He extended a hand out to you. He hadn’t offered his hand the entire date, but he felt like now was appropriate. 

You stared at it for a moment, he’s just helping you up that’s all, then you slipped your hand into his and stood with him. So to your own surprise, he didn’t let you go. Jungkook laced his fingers into yours, and it made your heart race in your chest. Goosebumps rising on your skin. 

“Now we still have plenty of other things left to see.” With a swift movement Jungkook began to pull you along into the rest of the aquarium. 

You both bounced around exhibits you had already seen and joked around a lot along the way. Jungkook also had plenty of more fish facts to throw out when you would encounter something you may have missed before. After a while the both of you managed to make it back to the front of the aquarium and found the gift shop. 

“Oh these are cute.” You pull up a pair of tiny penguins that had magnets in the fins that held them together. “I think you can split them up so you can give one to someone.” 

“That’s really cute.” Jungkook really wasn’t looking at anything, he was having more fun watching you look around at the items. Everything is a bit too overpriced. 

You had a thought in mind, and took the penguins up to the counter. After the cashier rang you up and you took the penguins out of their package and gave one to Jungkook. He looked confused. 

“One for you.” You smiled, “For such a nice first date.” 

“They mate for life, you can’t split them up.” Jungkook fake pointed and you rolled your eyes, you eye the pocket on the front of his button up and tucked the penguin into his pocket. It fit perfectly so the head was sticking out. 

You giggle a little at it and Jungkook smiles at your amusement, you then stick the other penguin to the shirt to see if the magnets would still stick and to your surprise they do indeed stick together. Jungkook also laughs at the gesture and then hands the other penguin back to you. 

As Jungkook handed you the second penguin, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth at his playful smile. It felt like a little secret shared between the two of you, an inside joke that was unique to this moment. You turned the penguin over in your hands, admiring the tiny details.

“These little guys can be a reminder of our first adventure together,” You said, glancing up at him. “Every time I see mine, I’ll think of you and all your random fish facts.”

“I knew all of this aquatic knowledge would come in handy someday.”

The both of you made your way out to the entrance of the aquarium. You weren’t even really sure what time it was but the sun was starting to set and it was raining outside to both of your surprise. You and Jungkook had been so wrapped up in the day you hadn't even thought to even check your phones or check the weather for the day. Jungkook hadn’t either, he really hadn’t expected to enjoy himself this much but here he was. He really didn’t want the date to end. 

“We might have to make a run for the subway.” Jungkook glanced out the windows, it was really coming down hard now. 

“I’m so going to get sick.” You laugh, but with some confidence and you push the exit door open, stepping into the rain and looking back waiting for Jungkook to follow. The rain hitting you and icy cold hug made you gasp. 

Jungkook laughed too, the sound brightening the dreary weather. Without a second thought, he dashed out into the rain after you, grabbing your hand as you both braved the elements. The rain was relentless, and you quickly found yourselves sprinting up the street toward the nearest subway station.

The air was crisp, and the rain felt like little stinging needles against your skin. “Definitely an unexpected twist for a first date.” You called to him, the sound of the rain a little deafening. 

“What do you mean? Running in the rain? It’s a totally rom com cliché.” Jungkook calling back to your love for romance movies. 

The both of you kept moving but began to shiver a little bit. The only heat between the both of you coming from your hands wrapped in each other. 

The both of you could see the station just up ahead. The both of you tried to keep a quick pace so you could get in and catch the train. You and Jungkook and you spot a puddle you both try to gracefully jump over, but the slickness of the ground betraying Jungkook. He slips a little and almost takes you with him. laughter spilled from your lips, mixing with the sound of rain splashing against the pavement. It was pure chaos, but it felt exhilarating. Jungkook’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he glanced at you, and for a moment, all the worries of the world faded away.

“An interesting way to close out the date.” You try wiping away some water from your face but it was useless at this point. “My outfit is definitely ruined.”

“I don’t know, I think the wet look is in.” His hair was sticking to the side of his face and forehead, he was clearly shivering but was still managing to have a boyish grin on his face. As you both reached the subway entrance, you paused, leaning against the wall, your laughter dying down into soft giggles. The rain still poured down around you, but it felt different now—intimate, almost magical. Jungkook’s eyes were bright, his expression softening as he looked at you.

For a moment, everything else faded away. The world around you blurred, and it felt like it was just the two of you in that cocoon of raindrops and laughter. Despite the biting chill of the rain soaking through your clothes, a warmth blossomed within you, igniting a spark that felt impossibly bright. Your heart pounded in your ears, drowning out everything else.

Jungkook stepped a little closer, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. You felt your own gaze drawn to his, mesmerized by the way his pink lips glistened in the dim light, kissed by the rain. He looked so cute, his expression a mix of surprise and delight. Before you could think about it, you closed the distance and pressed your lips to his.

Initially, Jungkook seemed taken aback, but the moment was electric, and he quickly melted into the kiss. What had started as a tentative peck transformed into something more quickly. He responded with surprising warmth, his hand gently cradling your cheek as he kissed you again, pulling you closer as if he wanted to shield you from the cold.

That kiss was sweet and tender, a balm against the rain. The warmth spread through you, wrapping around your heart like a cozy blanket. 

When you finally pulled away, breathless, your cheeks flushed from both the cold and the moment. Jungkook’s eyes sparkled with a mix of surprise and happiness, a wide smile breaking across his face. 

“I’m pretty sure kissing in the rain is the biggest cliché of them all.” Jungkook broke the tension in the air and made you roll your eyes, you taking his hand again and pulling him into the station.

You both managed to make it to your train in time. You weren’t sure if Jungkook also lived this direction but he was coming with you nonetheless. The two of you were leaving puddles behind the both of you everywhere you went. 

When you got off at the right station you realized how hungry you actually were now. Starving in fact, you and Jungkook had been so wrapped up in the aquarium food was the last thing on your mind, “Are you hungry?”

“Really hungry actually.” Jungkook was now realizing he was beginning to fade away with the lack of food. 

“You want to get something to eat?”

The two of you found the closest place you could find to eat nearby and there was a crowded restaurant. The two of you managed to get a table really easily and settled it. You both got a series of weird looks at the state the two of you were in, but the two of you didn’t really care. 

As you excused yourself to the bathroom, your heart was still racing from the high of the day. You needed a moment away from the intensity, a breath of space to gather your thoughts. The date had been so easy, so natural. Nothing like what you’d imagined when you first got involved in this whole thing. But you couldn’t let yourself get lost in the fantasy.

Once inside the bathroom, you didn’t even bother to check the mirror. You pulled out your phone, pacing frantically as you called Ronnie and Jin, knowing they’d be waiting for an update.

“Guys,” You blurted out, your voice low but panicked, “I can’t go through with this. I swear he’s just… a regular guy. This isn’t what we thought!”

There was a pause before Jin’s voice came through loud and clear. “Bad writer!” He scolded you. “Do not waver now. He’s playing you, just like we suspected.”

“I’m telling you, Jin, it feels real. The way he’s acting… he’s not some player. This all feels too genuine.” You caught your reflection in the mirror and grimaced, frustrated with yourself for even saying it out loud.

Ronnie chimed in, clearly less invested in your emotional rollercoaster, but supportive nonetheless. “Sounds too good to be true if you ask me. Stay strong, Y/N. This guy’s probably a master at making things feel real. That’s what they do. You’ve got this.”

You sighed, adjusting your hair with your free hand as you continued pacing. “You guys aren’t here with me! You didn’t see him today—he’s been amazing. It’s not like other dates where it’s all surface-level stuff. We were wrong.”

“I’m never wrong.” Jin insisted with that trademark smugness of his. “Trust me, his true colors will show soon. Stick to the plan.”

With a little more argument. They forced you to not give up and continue, Jin convinced he is still right about Jungkook. 

They didn’t see him today though. 

You rejoined Jungkook back at your booth and you were sitting right next to each other. Jungkook was typing on his phone, which managed to survive the downpour. You were also surprised that your phone somehow managed to survive it. Right now though, Jin and Ronnie were completely blowing it up with messages following your call. 

“What is it?” Jungkook’s curiosity gets the better of him, glancing at your phone briefly but then looking away. 

You shake your head, “Nothing my friends were just worried about me because I wasn’t responding. They thought you might have murdered me or something.” A lie but it would disarm his curiosity.

“How do they know you haven’t killed me?” Jungkook jokes, and you smiled. 

You shrug and set your phone down on the table. “Nights still young. That could very well happen.” 

“Fun.” Jungkook laughed at your obvious sarcasm. “I’ll be right back.” 

Jungkook placed his phone down next to yours and excused himself away. Probably to go to the bathroom. You felt a warm glow in your chest just from the day. Everything was so nice and so fun, and easy. Jungkook was not what you were expecting, he probably wasn’t what your friends thought either. 

It would be just your luck to accidentally pick a really great guy. 

Or so you hoped. 

At that moment a buzz came from the table and you thought it came from your phone since Jin and Ronnie were continuing to blow up your phone with reminders to stick to the plan. You glanced down and in an instant you wish you hadn’t. You really wished you hadn’t. Because the text did not come from your phone, it came from Jungkook's phone. 

It wasn’t a text from just a friend either. 

You looked away as fast as you saw it but it immediately brought you back to reality. 

Hey baby, are you free tonight? I really want to do that thing again…

You really wished you hadn’t looked. You didn’t even register the name because you flipped Jungkook's phone over. For a moment, everything inside you froze. It felt like someone had just yanked you out of a dream, dropping you back into reality with a crash. The words, the suggestive tone—it wasn’t just a friendly text. This was someone else, someone calling him “baby”, someone who clearly thought they had plans with him tonight.

Because this is who he was, and why you set all those rules.

Of course Jungkook was texting another girl. Because that is the guy he is. He could be dreamy all day long but this was his nature. Not whatever façade he put on for your benefit today. For a second, your mind spun with questions: Who was she? What did they do? But no matter how many answers you wanted, one fact remained: this perfect day wasn’t as perfect as it seemed.

Your waitress brought over the drinks you two had ordered. You sipped it so you could give your hands something to do. The disappointment swirled in your stomach for a moment before you pulled yourself together. 

You were here for your own reasons. 

That text just proved why you picked Jungkook in the first place. He is a playboy, and you had a goal. Day one, twenty-nine more to go. 

You spotted Jungkook returning to the table and he had a big smile on his face. You put back on a big smile yourself. Acting as if nothing had changed and nothing was different. You took a quick moment to send a quick text to Ronnie and Jin. 

: Nevermind. You guys were right. I can do this. 

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[moonlitstoriess]

Could I request an angst to fluff fic for Cassian? The plot can be whatever you want, I can’t think rn

Make It Right- Cassian x fem!reader oneshot

Summary: On Y/N’s birthday, Cassian forgets the special day, caught up in the chaos of the world around them. Hurt and disappointed, Y/N tries to hide her feelings, but Cassian soon realizes his mistake. What follows is a heartfelt apology, and a love that reminds them both that sometimes, making things right takes more than just words.

A/N: Tomorrow is my birthday, yay!! 🥳 This is a little early birthday post I'm sending your way, hoping that you will enjoy it<3 Thank you for the request anon!

See masterlist

Warnings: Angst at first, cassian being an idiot

Y/N woke with a soft stretch, the warmth of sunlight streaming through the window and brushing her face. Today was the day—her birthday. She had woken up with a fluttering excitement in her chest, a smile already forming as she thought of the plans, the laughter, the quiet moments she might share with Cassian.

Her fingers brushed against the empty side of the bed.

Furrowing her brow, Y/N glanced at the space beside her. Cassian wasn't there, and for a moment, she wondered if he had gotten up early for training. But no, that didn't seem right. It wasn’t like him to leave without a word.

Her gaze wandered to the small table beside the bed, where a piece of parchment caught her eye. Cassian’s familiar handwriting sprawled across it, and her heart fluttered. Maybe he was just up to something… maybe it was a surprise.

With a little smile, she reached for the letter and unfolded it carefully, her eyes scanning the words.

My Love, I’ve gone up to the Illyrian camps for a few hours to speak with the warriors about some new strategies we need to implement. You know how it goes—these things are never quick. But I’ll be back before you know it. I know you’re probably still sleeping, so I’ll let you get your rest and will see you soon. I love you more than words can say. I can’t wait to see you later.

Yours forever, Cassian

Y/N blinked at the letter. There was no mention of her birthday. Not a single word about the day that should’ve meant something special between them. Her heart sank just a little, the fluttering excitement slowly replaced with an unfamiliar heaviness. She sat there for a moment, staring at the letter, wondering if she'd missed something, if she was misreading it.

But no, there it was in black ink—nothing about today.

Sighing quietly, she set the letter back down and ran a hand through her hair. Maybe he had something planned. Maybe he was just working on a surprise. Cassian always had a way of doing things in his own time, in his own way. He wouldn’t forget, right?

It was only a few hours, after all. He’d come back, and they’d spend the day together. Maybe he was just setting up something grand for later. Maybe he was waiting to make the moment perfect.

She took a deep breath, pushing the little pang of disappointment aside. He loves me, she reminded herself. He always does.

With that, Y/N stood, smoothing the wrinkles from her clothes and moving toward the window. She still had hope. Cassian was always full of surprises, and she knew, deep down, that he wouldn’t let today slip by without showing her just how much she meant to him.

Right?

The morning passed in a blur of warm wishes and gentle laughter, but still, Y/N couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. The Inner Circle had been kind—so kind—and she was deeply grateful for their love and friendship. Rhys and Feyre had, without hesitation, invited everyone to the River House for a breakfast celebration in her honor. It was a gesture that spoke volumes, and it made her heart swell with affection. The beauty of their bond—of how they all looked out for one another—was something she cherished deeply.

When she’d arrived at the River House, she was greeted with warm smiles, hugs, and laughter. Nesta, for all her quietness, gave her a genuine hug, and even smiled at her, a rare moment that made Y/N’s chest tighten with appreciation. Amren had actually let out a small compliment—something about Y/N’s hair looking especially “charming today,” which made Y/N laugh.

The table was filled with an array of foods, a spread fit for royalty, and there was an undeniable sense of warmth in the air. Feyre had gone out of her way to make sure everything was perfect—her usual artistic flair evident in the way the food was arranged, the flowers placed just so on the table.

But even as the smiles and laughter surrounded her, as they all joked and ate together, there was an ache within her that refused to fade. She couldn’t help but feel a little hollow without Cassian by her side, his absence growing more pronounced as the day wore on. She couldn’t push the thought from her mind—why hadn’t he been here to wish her a happy birthday? Why wasn’t he here now?

Her eyes kept drifting over to the window, the soft breeze moving the curtains gently as though calling her attention to the world outside. She had expected him to show up at any moment, maybe swooping down from the skies in his usual fashion, grinning like a fool and pulling her into his arms, apologizing for being late with a cocky smirk. But no. He hadn’t come. And worse yet, he hadn’t even checked in through their bond, hadn’t sent even a whisper of a thought to her. It was unlike him, and it stung more than she cared to admit.

She tried to focus on the joy of the moment. She really did. She was surrounded by people who loved her. Her friends, her family—each one of them expressing their joy for her in their own unique ways. Nesta had even offered her a gift, something she’d made herself—woven from fine, shimmering strands of thread—and Y/N had been touched beyond measure. Amren’s usual sharp smile seemed more genuine today, her eyes glinting with something softer than usual. And Feyre, as always, had a way of making her feel special—her quiet words of gratitude and love making Y/N’s heart swell.

Azriel, ever the quiet and observant one, had given her a rare smile when he raised his glass to her. His dark eyes held a warmth that she didn’t often see, his gruff exterior slipping just a little in the presence of the people he cared about. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort from the shadowsinger, his support steady and unspoken, as always.

Elain, with her gentle kindness, had hugged her tightly when they first arrived, speaking softly about how much she admired her strength and how happy she was to be a part of the day. The warm sincerity in Elain’s words had made Y/N’s heart ache—she could always rely on her to brighten any room with her peaceful presence.

And then there was Mor. A force of nature in her own right, the bright, bold smile on Mor’s face never seemed to fade. She’d given Y/N a gift, a beautiful piece of jewelry that shimmered with a kind of magic. Mor’s exuberance was infectious, pulling everyone into her orbit, filling the space with laughter and light. She had gone out of her way to make Y/N feel like a queen today, fussing over every detail and making sure Y/N knew just how much she meant to the entire Court.

Each one of them had done their best to make today feel special. They were all here, surrounding her with love and light, and yet... Cassian’s absence loomed over it all, a shadow she couldn’t shake.

She reached for her glass, taking a sip, but her thoughts kept drifting. Maybe he’ll come back soon. She told herself again and again, trying to quell the disappointment. But the longer she sat there, the more she realized something: He wasn’t here. And he wasn’t even thinking about her. The bond between them was silent. No whispers, no gentle pull on her heart. She kept waiting for a flicker of warmth, some kind of connection—but there was nothing.

She pushed the thoughts aside for a moment when Mor raised her glass, calling everyone’s attention to make another toast in her honor. The cheerful clink of glasses around her made her smile, and she tried to focus on the love and laughter in the room. He’s not here right now, she thought, forcing herself to believe it. But I’m still loved. I am loved.

Azriel’s low voice cut through her thoughts, his words aimed at her but spoken with that quiet intensity only he could manage. “Don’t let today be overshadowed by his absence. You’re not alone, Y/N. We’re all here.”

Y/N met his gaze, his deep, steady eyes holding hers. She felt a little lighter, the weight of her worries lifting just slightly. You’re right, she thought, her heart grateful for his reminder. And yet… her mind couldn’t help but wonder, Why wasn’t Cassian here to remind me himself?

As the morning wore on, the atmosphere in the River House felt warm and alive with chatter, music, and the clinking of glasses. Y/N continued to do her best to push away the dull ache that kept settling in her chest, trying to enjoy the celebration for what it was. It wasn’t as though she didn’t appreciate everything her friends were doing for her. They had all been kind and thoughtful, their efforts unmistakable.

But still, she couldn’t quiet the little voice in the back of her mind. Cassian’s absence. The unanswered questions.

It was when Rhys approached her, a gift in hand, that her thoughts were interrupted. He gave her a knowing smile, his eyes gleaming with that familiar warmth. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” he said softly, offering her the small, beautifully wrapped package.

“Thank you, Rhys,” she replied, her smile sincere as she accepted the gift. She’d always adored Rhys’ sense of humor and his ability to bring light into any room, but today… her mind wasn’t fully there. She carefully unwrapped the present, revealing a small, intricate bracelet—crafted from what appeared to be moonstone, its pale light catching the sunlight in a way that made it shimmer like stars. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, touched by his thoughtfulness.

Rhys smiled, watching her with a quiet kind of affection. “I thought it might remind you that even when it feels like someone’s missing, you’re still a part of something bigger. The stars will always be there, just like us.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at his words. “Thank you, Rhys.”

He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “I’m sure Cassian is preparing something extraordinary for you today. Don’t let the silence fool you. He’s up to something.”

Hope bloomed in her chest, delicate at first, like a fragile flower testing the air for warmth. “It wasn’t you who sent him to the Illyrian camps, was it?”

Rhys chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, definitely not. Why would I send him away knowingly on the day of his mate’s birthday?”

Y/N’s pulse quickened. Could it be that there had been a misunderstanding? Had Cassian been caught up in something unexpected? That seemed likely, didn’t it?

Rhys continued, his smile shifting to something more teasing. “He told me that the Illyrian camps had requested him—one of the commanders asked him personally. And I’m sure you know how those requests work. You don’t just say no to an Illyrian commander, especially when they come with an urgent matter. He also told me that he didn’t want Azriel to go since he already has too much on his plate.” Rhys paused, giving her a pointed look. “You know how it is. The more people you have, the more work piles up.”

Y/N nodded, still uncertain but feeling a spark of relief. So it wasn’t Rhys...

“But that’s not the only thing,” Rhys continued, his tone taking on a more knowing edge. “You know as well as I do that when you go up into the camps, you can’t come back before atleast a full day because of all that is going on there. He told me he’d be back by late afternoon. And trust me, he’s never one to be late when it comes to something important. Especially when it involves you. He’ll be here, Y/N. I’m sure of it.”

Y/N’s chest tightened as she processed his words. Cassian wouldn’t miss today. He wouldn’t let me down, not like this...

She looked up at Rhys, who was watching her with an intensity that told her he understood her internal struggle. “I know it’s hard, Y/N. But you have to know this: he’s coming back. I’m sure he’s planning something incredible for you, just like he has every year since you have been mates. It’s just not the way you expected it.”

Her thoughts swirled. I should trust him. I should trust that Cassian loves me enough not to forget today... But her mind kept circling back to the letter. Maybe he really is just caught up in something. Maybe he’s doing everything he can to get back to me.

“Thank you, Rhys,” she whispered, feeling a little lighter. She hoped he was right, hoped that Cassian would return with the grand gesture she was waiting for.

Rhys gave her a wink. “Anytime, Y/N. You deserve all the love in the world. Don’t let today slip by with doubts.”

As Rhys moved back to join the others, Y/N let the words linger in her mind. He’s coming back… he has to be.

But still, a part of her remained uncertain. What if there was more to this than just a simple delay? What if he’s forgotten entirely?

For now, though, she’d wait. She’d trust in the love they shared, in the bond that had always connected them, even when the distance felt unbearable.

As the hours passed, the River House buzzed with life and laughter. Y/N tried her best to keep her smile in place, to enjoy the company of those around her, but it was hard to ignore the absence of the one person she had been waiting for all day.

The birthday breakfast had come and gone, and now the afternoon stretched out before her, warm and full of promise—yet empty without Cassian’s presence. She was surrounded by friends, all of them who cared for her deeply, but somehow, it all felt incomplete.

Azriel and Mor had spent the afternoon lounging outside, talking quietly about their latest missions, their voices low and private. Nesta had wandered off for a while, clearly needing some time alone, but she’d made sure to hug Y/N tightly before slipping away. Feyre had suggested a walk through the gardens, a calm, peaceful escape that allowed them to chat more privately, and Y/N was grateful for the distraction. They’d discussed everything and nothing—how Feyre was adjusting to being a mother, how Y/N had been feeling about the latest changes in the Night Court—but the whole time, her thoughts kept drifting back to the empty space beside her.

Her eyes had lingered on the door, half-expecting to see Cassian come striding through it, his laughter booming in that familiar way, his arms wide to pull her into his embrace. But each time, her hope was met with nothing but the quiet hum of the house.

By the time the afternoon sun began to dip toward evening, Y/N had retreated to a corner of the house, seated in a comfortable chair by the window, looking out at the vast expanse of the world beyond. The river glittered in the fading sunlight, the gentle lapping of the water against the bank providing a quiet soundtrack to her restless thoughts.

She absentmindedly fiddled with the bracelet Rhys had given her, tracing her fingers over the smooth, cool surface. It was a beautiful gift—something she’d treasure forever—but right now, it felt like a reminder of how little she truly had today. She had expected so much more.

She was no stranger to the chaos of Cassian’s life, to the unpredictability of his role as General. She knew that sometimes, his responsibilities pulled him away from her. She’d always understood that. But today… today felt different. Today felt like it should’ve been the day—the one where he set aside everything else to focus on her. To remind her how much she meant to him.

Her thoughts drifted again to that damn letter from the morning. She could still picture the simple words, how they hadn’t even mentioned the significance of the day. Was he really too busy? Was it just bad timing?

A soft, familiar presence appeared at the edge of her thoughts, and she felt the lightest flutter through their bond—a tiny whisper, like a fleeting breath in the back of her mind. It was just a brush, a flicker. But it was enough to make her heart race, enough to make her wonder if perhaps Cassian was finally reaching out.

But no. It was gone almost as quickly as it came.

“Y/N?” Feyre’s voice broke through her reverie, and Y/N turned to find her standing at the edge of the room, watching her with gentle concern in her eyes. “You okay? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

Y/N forced a smile. “Yeah, just thinking.”

Feyre stepped closer, sitting on the edge of the windowsill beside her. “I know it’s hard, waiting for Cassian. But you have to know he’s going to be here soon. He wouldn’t miss today for the world."

Y/N nodded, but the words felt hollow. She appreciated Feyre’s attempt at reassurance, but it didn’t change the emptiness that had settled into her bones.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Y/N murmured, looking down at her hands, where the bracelet rested against her wrist. “I just… I expected more today, you know? More of him. It’s hard not to feel like I’m being forgotten.”

Feyre reached over, gently squeezing Y/N’s hand in hers. “Cassian doesn’t forget. Not about you, not about your worth. I know you know that, deep down. But his responsibilities… they take over sometimes.”

Y/N didn’t say anything, but her heart felt heavy with the truth of Feyre’s words. She knew this. She had always known how demanding Cassian’s work was. Yet, in this moment, none of that seemed to ease the ache in her chest.

They sat in silence for a moment, the quiet of the room thick between them.

“Well, if it’s any consolation,” Feyre said after a beat, “Rhys and I were talking earlier. He’s certain Cassian is planning something spectacular. He wouldn’t let this day go by without making it up to you, I promise.”

Y/N gave a small, shaky smile. “I hope you’re right.”

Feyre patted her hand. “Come on, let’s go join the others. The day’s not over yet, and I’m sure Cassian has something up his sleeve. Just you wait.”

Y/N nodded again, standing with Feyre and following her back toward the main part of the house, though her heart still felt heavy. She tried to lose herself in conversation with the others as they discussed plans for the evening, but every time the door creaked open or a breeze brushed past, her hope flickered once again.

Cassian would come, wouldn’t he?

-----

Cassian stood at the edge of the Illyrian camp, his eyes scanning the horizon, watching as his warriors trained, sparred, and carried out their duties. It was the sort of day he dreaded—endless, relentless, and filled with the tension of an impending conflict that threatened to boil over at any moment.

It had all started about a month ago, when he’d received the urgent message from one of the northern commanders. At the time, Cassian delayed coming over himself, choosing to send his trusted men instead. It was also because the communication had come at the worst possible time—just as he was looking forward to a few days of peace, maybe even a quiet evening with Y/N.

However, everyday the commander had kept asking for Casian himself, being very clear: the camps were on the brink of full-scale warfare, and they needed someone who could keep things in order before the situation got worse. And so, Cassian had packed up quickly, his mind focused only on getting things under control. The sooner he got in, the sooner he could return. He had promised himself that it would only be a few hours—perhaps a day at most. After all, how bad could it be?

But of course, as it always did, the situation had escalated.

In the last month, every plan he’d tried to set in motion had been thwarted by a new complication. A new leader from one of the factions had challenged his authority, a skirmish had broken out on the eastern border, and just when Cassian thought things were settling down, word came that another territory was in dispute.

Now, here he was, surrounded by the sounds of clashing metal and the low hum of warriors calling orders, his hands wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword as he surveyed the chaos. His mind was elsewhere, though—not with the men around him or the reports he was reading—but with her. Y/N.

He hadn’t forgotten her—he could never forget her. She was always in his thoughts, even now as he stood in the midst of battle preparations. But the more he thought of her, the more his frustration built. Damn it all, he thought to himself, running a hand through his dark hair. He was supposed to be with her, not stuck here in this endless mess. He had no idea how things had gotten so far out of hand, but there was no turning back now.

He’d hoped the day would be simple. He’d figured, a few hours at most, handle the worst of it, and then be back with her. Maybe they could have a quiet dinner, talk about the quiet things. But now, that hope seemed like a distant memory.

His mind drifted back to the report he’d just received. The situation with the northern factions had worsened. They were demanding reinforcements, and not just a few. This was the kind of situation where Cassian’s presence was absolutelynecessary. He couldn’t just leave it to the others; he had to see it through. The men under his command needed him.

But what about her?

A growl rumbled low in his throat, his frustration turning into a simmering rage. Cassian had thought that after a quick intervention, he’d be back to his mate, back to the woman who kept him grounded and whole. But that had been a naive thought, one that now felt like a cruel joke.

“General,” one of his commanders approached, his voice low and serious. “It’s not just the northern borders. We’ve got problems in the southern territories too. The peace talks fell apart. We’ll need to send someone there immediately.”

Cassian gritted his teeth. Three days. At least three days now. What the hell was he supposed to do? There was no way he could leave things in this state—not when things were this precarious.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, pacing away from the group. He couldn’t even bring himself to speak to the commander again; his thoughts were too clouded, his anger too sharp. The worst part? No one here seemed to understand. They were all too focused on the battle, on the logistics of war, to see the way his heart was breaking with every passing second.

Cassian growled under his breath, his frustration boiling over. He had to stay for the next few days. There was no other option.

But Y/N would understand. Right?

----

Y/N did not, in fact, understand.

When she saw Rhys leave and come back with a letter in his hand, his expression serious and slightly sorrowful as he headed straight for Azriel, she knew something was wrong.

Feyre and Elain were beside her, their soft laughter and conversation swirling around like a gentle breeze, but Y/N barely heard any of it. Her eyes were fixed on the two males standing by the doorway, voices hushed but movements tight with frustration. Rhys’ brow was furrowed as he handed the note to Azriel, and Az ran a hand through his hair as he read it, wings twitching slightly behind him.

Her stomach sank.

It was the way Azriel’s jaw clenched. The way Rhys’ hand dropped to his side, fingers curling into a fist. The kind of body language that meant bad news. And neither of them had looked her way.

Feyre nudged her gently, drawing her back. “Y/N? You zoned out for a second there.”

“Oh—sorry,” Y/N murmured, blinking and trying to force a smile. “I’m listening.”

But she wasn’t. Not really. Because now Azriel had started speaking, fast and low, and Rhys wasn’t looking at him—he was looking at her.

That told her everything she needed to know.

She stood slowly, the movement enough to draw the attention of both males. Azriel glanced down at the note in his hand, then up at her, his expression unreadable. Rhys looked like he was preparing himself for something—his lips pressed together, a crease forming between his brows.

Y/N didn’t wait for them to come to her.

She crossed the room silently, her heart pounding louder with each step. She kept her voice steady when she stopped in front of them, even though it felt like her lungs had been replaced by lead.

“What is it?”

Rhys hesitated. Azriel looked to him, clearly unsure if he should speak, but then Rhys sighed quietly and extended the letter to her. “It’s from Cassian.”

She took it with slow fingers. The seal wasn’t the one he usually used for her—no wax in her favorite color, no scribbled heart in the corner like he sometimes added when he was feeling particularly smug or sweet. Just plain parchment, a rushed signature.

Her throat tightened before she even unfolded it.

It wasn’t long. A few brief sentences. A quick explanation. He’d been pulled deeper into the situation than expected. The camps were at each other’s throats. He couldn’t leave—not yet. Not for another few days. I will send news soon. Take care of Y/N for me.

No mention of what today was. Not even a line.

She didn’t realize how tightly her fingers were gripping the paper until Rhys gently reached out, his hand brushing her elbow. “Y/N—”

“It’s fine,” she said quickly, folding the letter with practiced calm. “He’s needed there. I get it.”

Neither Rhys nor Azriel looked convinced.

Feyre and Elain had gone quiet behind her. She could feel their concern, the heaviness in the room like a sudden shift in air pressure.

Y/N took a slow breath and looked out the window, blinking back the sting in her eyes. She had waited. All day. Told herself he was coming. That this wasn’t like him.

And maybe it wasn’t.

But the letter in her hand said otherwise.

Because it didn’t even say happy birthday.

And no matter how many times she told herself that Cassian loved her—that his duties were important, that Illyria needed him—there was a sharp, echoing silence in her chest where he should have been today.

Where his voice should’ve whispered through the bond, where his arms should’ve wrapped around her, where his presence should’ve reminded her that she mattered.

She swallowed tightly and turned away, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’m tired,” she murmured. “I think I’ll head home.”

“I don’t understand. How could he forget?” Rhys practically growled, pacing in the center of the room now. “Cassian has never—not once—missed her birthday. Every godsdamned year, he’s gone all out. The male made her a sunrise flight over the Sidra last year because she said she liked the color of the sky in the morning—”

“He always remembers,” Azriel cut in, his voice dark and tight with frustration. “He’s never been like this. Not with her.” His shadows curled tighter around his shoulders, restless and tense.

Feyre, standing near the window, arms folded, nodded slowly. “It’s not like him. Something’s not right. And even if he’s overwhelmed, even if Illyria is falling apart, there’s no way he doesn’t know what today is.”

“I’ll go to him,” Azriel said abruptly, already half-turned toward the door, his voice quiet but deadly. “I’ll tell him myself. I’ll show him that fucking letter and—”

“That idiot,” Mor muttered, appearing from the hallway with a sharp look in her golden eyes. “That idiot. She waited all day, Az. He should’ve been here. At least a godsdamned message.”

“I will make him listen,” Azriel continued, shadows snapping around his fists. “I’ll fly to him right now and—”

“Stop.”

Y/N’s voice was quiet, strained—but no one heard her. Or maybe they didn’t listen. The air was thick with indignation, protective fury, confusion.

“Stop,” she said again, a little louder, stepping further into the room. Still nothing.

Rhys was muttering about how he should’ve known, how he should’ve sent someone else to the camps. Feyre was pacing now. Even Elain, sweet Elain, had a worried furrow in her brow.

“Stop!”

The word cracked through the space like thunder.

Everyone froze.

The silence that followed was deafening. Y/N stood in the middle of the room now, chin high, fists clenched at her sides. Her breathing was steady, but the tremble in her fingers betrayed the storm inside her.

“No one,” she said, voice low but unyielding. “No one is going to say a word to him.”

Rhys opened his mouth to protest.

Y/N’s gaze cut to him with sharp precision, a warning that stopped him cold.

“I mean it,” she said firmly, looking at each of them in turn. “He needs to realize this himself. If any of you go running to tell him, if you scold him or guilt him or push him into some half-hearted apology… it won’t mean anything. He has to see it. He has to feel it. Not because you reminded him. Not because someone handed him the truth. Because he looked around, realized something was missing, and knew it was me.”

Azriel stepped forward, his jaw clenched. “Y/N, he loves you. He would never—”

“I know he loves me,” she said, gentler this time. “But love doesn’t excuse neglect. Love doesn’t mean never making mistakes. And I’m not mad that he’s busy. I understand his duty. But today? Today he forgot me. Not just the celebration—me.”

Elain opened her mouth, but closed it again with a sympathetic frown.

Y/N took a slow breath. “Please. It’s my birthday. And this is my wish. That none of you mention this to him. Let him come home on his own. Let him see the damage on his own. Let him fix it on his own.”

The silence returned, heavier now. And then, after a long pause, Rhys finally let out a breath, raking a hand through his hair.

“Very well,” he said quietly. “I will give him a few days to realize his mistake. But.” His violet eyes locked on hers. “There is no way in any world that I am letting you spend your birthday alone.”

Y/N’s lips parted, already forming a protest. “Rhys, really, I—”

“But nothing,” Feyre cut in, already taking Y/N’s hand. “We listened to you. Now you listen to us.”

“We’re your family too,” Elain said softly, stepping up on Y/N’s other side. “And you don’t deserve to sit in silence when there’s still joy to be found today.”

“The others will be back soon,” she added, already moving toward the doors leading to the terrace. “And we are not letting this day end with you hiding in a corner feeling forgotten.”

Before she could argue further, Feyre gave her hand a gentle tug. “Let’s go outside. Breathe. Laugh a little. Even if it’s just for a moment.”

Y/N nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She wasn’t sure she could laugh—not right now—but the way they looked at her, all of them, she knew they wouldn’t let her fall apart alone.

So she let them lead her toward the open doors and into the golden light of the setting sun, the scent of flowers on the breeze and the soft murmur of the Sidra below.

And even as she smiled for them, even as she tried to be present, there was still that hollow space inside her where he should’ve been.

Where Cassian should have been.

She didn’t even notice the tears at first. They came suddenly, soundless, slipping down her cheeks like they’d always belonged there. She was seated on a bench between Elain and Feyre, hands curled tightly in her lap, when it hit her again.

She didn’t speak. She just cried.

And neither sister said a word. Feyre looped an arm gently around her shoulders, drawing her into the curve of her body while Elain wrapped both hands around hers. They didn’t offer empty reassurances or tell her to cheer up. They didn’t need to. They simply sat with her, and that was enough.

Later, as the garden lights blinked to life and the air cooled, Nesta returned from Valkyrie mission—sharper than usual, but her expression softened the moment she saw Y/N. No questions. No demands. Just a nod of acknowledgment as she took the seat across from her and quietly passed over a little parcel wrapped in silver cloth. A gift she’d made herself—something small, personal, and thoughtful.

Amren appeared not long after, her hair swept back in a polished twist, the edges of her black coat fluttering around her like shadows. She sat beside Nesta with a huff, muttering about “tedious Court matters” and “being dragged into babysitting lesser fae politics,” but even she leaned over to ruffle Y/N’s hair with an uncharacteristically soft, “Happy birthday, girl. Don’t let the bat’s absence ruin it.”

And just when Y/N thought the night was over, Elain insisted they all follow her inside.

There, on the kitchen table, sat a cake.

Beautiful and slightly lopsided, covered in sugared wildflowers and soft frosting that shimmered faintly under the faelight. Elain had made it herself—had spent the past two nights sneaking time in the kitchens, hiding it from even Feyre. “I wanted to do something just for you,” she said shyly, and Y/N had nearly cried all over again

The rest of the day passed like a slow, strange dream.

They dined together after that. A warm, chaotic, makeshift dinner, thrown together by a dozen helping hands. Everyone gathered—those who had come and gone through the day returning for the final hours. They drank and toasted and teased one another with ridiculous, affectionate banter. Rhys told a story from centuries ago involving Cassian and a very unfortunate tree, and even Y/N had laughed until her ribs ached.

There were moments—fleeting ones—where she forgot the ache in her chest. Where the comfort of those around her dulled the sting enough that she could pretend everything was okay.

But only for a moment.

Because the ache always returned. It pulsed behind every laugh, every sip of wine, every flicker of candlelight.

Cassian hadn’t come. He hadn’t sent a message. He hadn’t said happy birthday. He had completely forgotten.

And no matter how kind the others were, how hard they tried to lift her up, his absence sat heavy on her chest like a stone.

Eventually, under Rhys and Feyre’s gentle insistence, she agreed to stay the night. They wouldn’t let her go home alone. Not like this. “Just take the guest room,” Feyre said softly. “Sleep. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

Y/N agreed.

She closed the door behind her as quietly as she could. The room was warm, cozy, with soft throws and a little vase of fresh flowers on the nightstand—typical Feyre. Thoughtful to the end. She changed into the clothes someone had folded at the foot of the bed, washed her face slowly, and went through the motions of settling in.

She told herself not to cry again.

She had cried enough.

She folded her dirty clothes. Brushed out her hair. Lit a small candle with a flick of faelight. Tidied a nightstand that didn’t even belong to her.

She did everything except lie down.

But eventually, her limbs couldn’t carry her anymore.

Y/N slipped beneath the covers, curled onto her side, and stared out the window. The moon hung low and silver, casting light across the bed in quiet streaks.

And that was when her heart finally gave in.

The tears came again, thick and silent, slipping down her cheeks and into the pillow as she clutched it tighter to her chest. Her throat burned. Her ribs ached. She didn’t sob, didn’t make a sound—but the pain was all-consuming.

How had he forgotten her?

How had the one person who knew her better than anyone not felt how much this would break her?

She thought of his arms. His scent. His laugh. The way he always kissed her temple before bed. The way he used to whisper goodnight into her soul through the bond.

Tonight, there was nothing.

No whisper. No warmth.

Only the sound of her own quiet, broken breathing.

--------

Cassian ran a hand through his hair, muscles aching, exhaustion carved deep into every inch of his body. He hadn’t slept more than a few hours in the past three days—not with the Illyrian warbands breathing fire down each other’s throats. He’d been everywhere. Breaking up fights. Mediating screaming matches. Holding war councils that felt more like babysitting sessions for ancient, prideful warriors who couldn’t see past their own egos.

The tensions weren’t just high—they were explosive.

What had started as a two-camp territorial squabble had now grown into something far more dangerous. Old rivalries, wounded egos, unspoken grudges—everything was bubbling to the surface. Cassian had tried, Gods he had tried, to get ahead of it. But every solution he carved out only gave birth to two more problems. Every ceasefire threatened to collapse under the weight of centuries-old hate.

Still, he pressed on.

He was the General of the Night Court. This was his job. His burden.

And yet…

He had thought about her. Hundreds of times.

Y/N’s smile. Her laugh. The way she scrunched her nose when she read something she disagreed with. The way she always tucked herself into his side like she belonged there—because she did. Her warmth, her scent, the quiet weight of her in his arms every night.

But now, that warmth felt so far away. And worse, she was… closed off.

He had reached for her through the bond multiple times since arriving in the camps. And every time, it was like pressing his hand against a locked door. Her walls were up, impenetrable in a way they hadn’t been since the earliest days of their bond.

That had set something cold and uneasy in his chest.

So, he had reached out to Rhys.

“Is she alright?” he’d asked through their mental link, concern thick in his tone.

Rhys’ response had come slower than usual. Clipped. “She’s fine. She’s staying with us.”

That was it.

No warmth. No elaboration.

Cassian had tried to rationalize it. Maybe Rhys was just busy. Maybe Y/N was tired. Maybe she didn’t want to worry him. But it gnawed at him—sharp and growing. She hadn’t answered any of his letters, either. He’d written three. All of them long, thoughtful—pouring out everything he couldn’t say across the distance. And still… nothing.

He frowned now, standing just outside the camp’s central tent, the icy wind biting at his skin despite the thick armor.

He didn’t understand. What was going on?

What was he missing?

He didn’t have the chance to spiral further—because a voice cut through the wind behind him.

“The Shadowsinger is here.”

Cassian blinked, turning immediately, his brow furrowing. “What?”

The young Illyrian warrior bowed slightly. “He arrived moments ago. He’s waiting for you near the ridge.”

Azriel? Here?

Cassian was already moving, striding across the frostbitten field toward the overlook, confusion swirling in his chest. What in the Mother’s name is Az doing here? He would’ve known if something had gone wrong at the River House. Rhys would’ve said something—surely.

And then he saw him.

Azriel stood with his arms folded, his expression unreadable, shadows curling languidly around his form as he stared out over the mountains.

“Az,” Cassian called as he approached. “What the hell are you doing here? Did Rhys send you?”

Azriel didn’t turn. “I came on my own.”

That wasn’t normal. Not with Azriel.

Cassian stopped a few feet away, arms outstretched in disbelief. “Okay, what is going on? Rhys is cold with me, Y/N’s got her walls up so high I can’t even feel her, and now you show up like death himself—what did I do? Did I commit a fucking massacre and forget about it?”

Azriel’s jaw ticked, but his voice was cool as ice. “You might as well have.”

Cassian’s stomach dropped. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Azriel finally turned to face him, his gaze hard. “You’ve been so wrapped up in this godsdamned chaos that you didn’t even realize what day it was.”

Cassian blinked. “What?”

Azriel shook his head, sighing harshly. “Go back. I’ll take over from here.”

“What—? Why?” Cassian stepped in front of him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Does Rhys need me? Did something happen—?”

Azriel shrugged his hand off with practiced ease, brushing past him without another word.

But as he walked away, his voice drifted over his shoulder.

“Your mate needs you.”

Cassian stilled.

The words hit him like a punch to the ribs.

Y/N.

Something snapped into place—something instinctual, primal. Protective.

His body straightened, his heart roaring in his chest as dread crashed over him like a tidal wave. His wings flared, already preparing to launch him into the skies.

Something had happened.

She was hurting.

And he hadn’t known.

Didn’t feel it.

His mate needed him—and he was not there.

Cassian didn’t waste another second. He turned on his heel, barked a few quick orders to the nearest commander, and took off into the sky, wind slicing around him like blades.

What happened to her?

My wife needs me.

The sky was clear, painted in soft shades of spring blue with faint wisps of clouds drifting lazily across it. The garden smelled like lavender and sun-warmed stone, and a gentle breeze tugged playfully at Y/N’s hair. It was, by all accounts, a beautiful day.

She barely noticed.

Feyre sat beside her on a picnic blanket spread out over the grass, barefoot, a smudge of green paint on her cheek as she carefully filled in the petals of a wildflower on her canvas. She looked peaceful, serene even—and Y/N had tried, Gods she’d tried, to match that energy. To find something resembling calm.

Feyre had said painting would help. That it had always helped her.

A good distraction.

And maybe it was. For the first few minutes, dipping her brush in soft hues, dragging color across blank canvas, she’d managed to escape the haze of disappointment clinging to her.

But the relief never lasted long.

Three days.

It had been three entire days since her birthday. Since that night she’d cried herself to sleep in a guest room that wasn’t hers. Since the cake Elain had made. Since the weight of it all settled into her bones like something permanent.

Cassian still hadn’t realized.

Not even a whisper through the bond, though she wouldn’t have heard it if he had tried—because she hadn’t opened herself to him. Not once. She couldn’t. Not when every second of silence felt like proof that he had simply... forgotten.

She hadn’t even touched his letters. They sat in her nightstand unopened, their presence mocking her more with each day that passed. She told herself that if she read them, it would mean she was ready to forgive him.

And she wasn’t.

A shaky breath escaped her as she dipped her brush again—only to knock over the small pot of blue paint beside her. It spilled onto the grass, soaking into the roots like a spreading bruise.

“Oops,” she mumbled, reaching for a cloth.

Feyre chuckled softly beside her. “That was my favorite shade too.”

Y/N huffed a laugh, but it was empty. “Of course it was.”

Feyre leaned back on her hands, eyes soft. “You’ve been quiet again.”

Y/N kept blotting at the grass. “I’m trying not to ruin your peaceful moment.”

“Y/N…” Feyre’s voice lowered, all teasing gone. “You’re allowed to feel what you’re feeling.”

“I don’t even know what I’m feeling anymore,” she muttered, finally sitting back. “It’s like—I’m angry. I’m sad. I miss him so much it physically hurts, but then I remember he still doesn’t even realize what he’s done and—” She stopped herself, swallowing hard. “It makes everything worse.”

Feyre reached over, brushing a bit of paint off Y/N’s arm. “He’ll figure it out.”

Y/N shook her head slowly. “And what if he doesn’t? What if this is just who he is now?”

Before Feyre could answer, a voice shattered the moment like glass against stone.

“Y/N!”

Y/N’s entire body went rigid.

The brush dropped from her fingers.

That voice. That voice that lived in her soul, in her every memory, every dream—rough and deep and warm like a storm in the distance. She turned slowly, heart thudding so loud she could barely hear anything else.

And there he was.

Cassian.

Striding toward her from the River House doors, wind-blown and armor-clad, broad shoulders moving with frantic urgency. Behind him, Rhysand stood, arms crossed, mouth pressed in a line, expression unreadable. Feyre had frozen beside her, eyes wide.

But Y/N couldn’t stop staring.

Gods, he looked the same and yet... not. Exhausted, eyes bloodshot, hair wind-tangled. But his face—his face lit up the second their eyes met.

Her Cassian, this was her Cassian.

“Y/N,” he breathed again, and then he was in front of her.

Cassian dropped to his knees, his arms wrapping around her tightly, protectively, one hand cradling the back of her head as he pressed his face into her neck.

“Thank the Mother,” he whispered, kissing her cheek, her jaw, her temple. “I thought—I thought something happened to you. I couldn’t feel you, you weren’t answering, and Rhys wouldn’t tell me anything and—”

Y/N was frozen in his arms.

She hadn’t realized how much she missed his scent. His warmth. How much she’d been craving the weight of his embrace, his voice breaking apart with relief.

But then she looked up.

Feyre was staring in wide-eyed shock. Rhys was watching coldly, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

And suddenly the pain returned.

Y/N pushed against Cassian’s chest, slowly at first—then more firmly.

He pulled back, blinking, confusion flickering across his handsome face.

“Y/N?” he said softly, voice catching.

She stood, brushing off her skirt, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Go back to your job, Cassian,” she said, her voice quiet but sharp. “It’s far more important anyway.”

The hurt that flashed across his face nearly undid her.

He turned toward Rhys, clearly seeking answers, but Rhys just shrugged—cool and unapologetic.

Feyre opened her mouth, stepping forward, about to say something—

But Rhys gently nudged her back with a warning look, stopping her mid-breath.

And Y/N didn’t wait.

She pushed past Cassian, her heart hammering, vision blurring as she made her way down the garden path without looking back.

Behind her, she heard Cassian curse softly—and then the sound of footsteps as he ran after her.

“Y/N—” Cassian’s voice rang behind her, hurried footsteps following as she stormed back into the River House.

She didn’t stop.

He cursed behind her—something muffled and sharp as he bumped into a low table near the hallway. She heard the crash of something ceramic hitting the floor.

“Y/N, please—wait, just—talk to me—”

She marched deeper into the house, hands trembling, her vision hazy from the heat of unshed tears. Her name kept falling from his lips like a prayer, desperate and confused. But she wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t.

Not until he caught up and grabbed her arm.

Not harshly. Just enough to pull her to a stop.

“Y/N—”

She spun around, wrenching her arm from his grasp with more force than necessary, her breath ragged as she shouted, “What?”

The hallway echoed with her voice, the sharpness of it slicing through the air like a blade.

Cassian took a step back, blinking at her, stunned. “I—why are you acting like this? What is going on?”

She let out a humorless, choked laugh, folding her arms as her eyes flashed. “Oh, I don’t know, Cassian. Maybe I’m just a little emotional. Maybe I’ve just lost my mind.”

His brow furrowed. “Y/N, don’t—”

“No, you don’t!” she snapped, pointing a finger at his chest. “You don’t get to walk in here after three days like everything’s normal, like you haven’t been ghosting me while I’ve been drowning in confusion and—hurt.”

Cassian’s wings flared, frustration bleeding into his voice. “I haven’t been ghosting you! I’ve been at the camps! I tried reaching you, you had your walls up and Rhys wouldn’t tell me anything and I—Mother above, Y/N! What?!” His voice rose to a thunderous echo, his hands thrown up. “What is it?! Why have you been acting this way?! What the hell has gotten into you?!”

Y/N stared at him, her lip trembling as the words tore out of her like a storm breaking loose.

“IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY!”

The world seemed to stop.

Cassian’s mouth parted, eyes widening as her voice echoed down the hallway. He stood frozen in place—watching her like he didn’t understand what he’d just heard. Like it didn’t make sense.

She saw the realization dawn on his face slowly. The shift in his eyes. The disbelief. The guilt.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, hot and fast, as she went on, her voice shaking with fury and grief.

“It was my birthday, and you left. You forgot. You didn’t send a letter. You didn’t say anything. No note. No kiss. Not even a godsdamned Happy Birthday, Cassian!”

She laughed bitterly, choking on her own tears. “Forget gifts or celebrations. I would’ve taken one sentence through the bond. One single thought. But there was nothing. You left me behind like I was—nothing.”

He opened his mouth, eyes already glossing with tears, but she kept going.

“And I waited,” she hissed, voice cracking. “I waited all day thinking maybe—just maybe—you were going to surprise me. I made excuses for you. Told myself it wasn’t your fault. But it’s been three days. You never realized. You didn’t even remember me.”

Her voice dropped then, just a whisper.

“Do I even mean something to you anymore?”

Cassian’s face crumpled.

“Do you even love me?”

A tear slid down his cheek.

“Y/N…” he whispered, stepping forward, voice raw. “*My love—*of course I love you. Of course I do. You are my everything. My soul is bound to yours—how could I ever stop loving you?”

He ran a trembling hand through his hair, jaw clenching as he cursed himself under his breath. “I’m an idiot. I’m the worst kind of bastard. I should’ve remembered—I should’ve—Mother, I hate myself for this.”

He tried to reach for her again, but she stepped back.

“No,” she said sharply, holding up a trembling hand to stop him. “Don’t. I can’t—not right now.”

“Y/N, please—”

“I think it’s best,” she said, quieter now, broken. “If we stay apart for a while.”

His face twisted. “No, you don’t mean that—”

“I do,” she whispered, shaking her head, more tears falling. “I don’t think I want to see you right now.”

“Just let me explain—”

She turned away.

Cassian took a desperate step toward her, but stopped when she didn’t pause, didn’t look back.

And with one final breathless, shattering beat between them, Y/N climbed the stairs—leaving him standing there, alone in the hallway, heart split wide open.

-------

Cassian sat hunched over on the plush River House couch, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He didn’t move. He barely breathed. The only thing keeping him grounded was the faint buzz of his own heartbeat in his ears, and the way his eyes were locked on the floor—unblinking, like if he just stared hard enough, he could turn back time.

The silence was tense. Suffocating.

And then—

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Rhys snapped, his voice sharp enough to slice through steel.

Cassian didn’t flinch. He didn’t even lift his head.

Rhys paced in front of him like a caged beast, his power a rolling storm beneath his skin, his violet eyes sparking with fury. “You forgot. You forgot her birthday, Cassian. The one day that’s about her. The one day she deserved your whole world without question—and you gave her silence.”

Cassian remained motionless.

“She cried for hours,” Rhys went on, each word like a dagger. “She didn’t even open your letters. Do you know how fucking heartbroken she had to be, to shut off your bond like that?”

“I tried to reach her,” Cassian rasped.

Rhys didn’t let up. “Not hard enough.”

Feyre, from where she stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed tightly over her chest, said quietly, “Rhys…”

But Rhys was too far gone.

“She waited for you. Defended you. Hoped. While we all sat there trying to keep her smiling, trying to fill the space you left behind.”

“I should have gone to the camps myself,” he seethed, starting to pace again. “Azriel shouldn’t be there, either. I’m the High Lord. I should’ve handled it. Godsdammit, I should have known this would happen. I knew something was off with her and I—”

“She didn’t want you to know,” Feyre cut in gently, but even she sounded like the weight of it was pressing too heavy.

Cassian still hadn’t moved.

Not until, in a hoarse, barely audible whisper, he said, “I hate myself.”

That stopped everything.

Rhys stilled. Feyre’s breath caught. The room went deathly quiet.

Cassian slowly lifted his head, eyes glassy but burning. His voice was louder now, rough with barely restrained emotion. “I hate myself for what I’ve done to her.”

His fingers curled into fists against his knees.

“I keep thinking about her face,” he growled. “When she turned around and shouted at me. When she looked at me like I was a stranger. Like I didn’t even know her anymore.”

He looked up at them, jaw clenched so tight it trembled. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Rhys’s face was unreadable. “She didn’t allow us to,” he said quietly. “She wanted you to realize it yourself. Said it had to be you.”

Cassian let out a low, agonized sound and collapsed back into the couch, throwing his head against the cushions and staring up at the ceiling like it held answers. “Of course she did,” he muttered. “Because she’s better than me. Because she deserved someone who would’ve remembered without being told.”

Feyre crossed the room and gently sat beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Cassian,” she said softly, “you messed up. But this… this doesn’t have to be the end of everything. She’s hurt, yes. But she’s still your mate. You can fix this—but not with words. Not with apologies. With actions.”

Rhys added from the corner, his voice calm but firm now, “Sitting here sulking won’t do you any good. The damage is done. The only question now is: what are you going to do about it?”

Cassian sat up slowly, his chest rising and falling with a deep, steadying breath. His eyes still glistened—but now, there was something steely behind them. Something solid.

“You’re right,” he said, voice low, determined.

He stood, cracking his knuckles, the gears in his mind already turning.

“I’m going to prove to her just how much I love her. I’m going to make this right, no matter how long it takes. I’ll grovel. I’ll bleed for her. I’ll get on my fucking knees if that’s what she wants.”

He looked between them, eyes fierce.

She’s my mate. My heart. My everything. And I will not lose her over this. Not without fighting like hell for her.

And as he stormed out of the room, the weight of his promise followed him like wings in flight.

--------

The moment Y/N had turned her back on him, the realization hit Cassian with the force of a war hammer. The words she’d thrown at him — the tear-filled accusations — echoed in his mind. It wasn’t just her birthday that he’d missed, but the very core of their bond. The trust that had always been between them, the connection that held them together, had been shattered.

For hours, he sat in the silence of the House of Wind, a pit of guilt consuming him. The only thing he could do was write.

The first letter was simple.

“Y/N, I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I didn’t deserve the trust you gave me, and I failed you. I’ve failed us both. I hope, one day, you’ll let me try again. Yours, always, Cassian”

He left it at her door with a small gift--a basket of her favourite flowers--, knowing she wouldn’t open it, but hoping the gesture would be enough. He left, retreating to the gardens to stand in the silence, his thoughts only of her.

Every morning after that, Cassian woke up before the sun, writing a letter. And then, as he left it at her door, he went back to his watch over the House, always close, but never too close. Each letter was more desperate, more vulnerable than the last, with a gift beside it.

“Y/N, Do you remember when we first met? I was a fool. I didn’t know then that it was you who would change everything. I didn’t know that one day, I would come to love you in a way I never thought possible. But I should have remembered you — every day, always. And I failed you. Please, don’t shut me out forever. I’ll wait for as long as it takes. With all the love I have, Cassian”

The gift next to this letter was a set of the books she wanted to buy for a while.

And the next.

“Y/N, I remember your laugh — it was always the highlight of my day. Every time I heard it, I thought I had everything I ever needed. But that laugh is silenced now, and I know it’s because of me. I’m sorry. I’ll keep saying it until you’re tired of hearing it. But I will keep saying it. Yours, in regret, Cassian”

The gift was an exciting array of her favourite sweets from the bakery nearby.

But still, nothing. Not even a glance in his direction. He kept his distance, his heart heavier each day, knowing that he had done this to himself.

A week had passed since Y/N’s birthday. The house was quiet, the laughter from before now distant and hollow. Cassian had spent every minute of those days trying to find a way to fix this, to make it right.

But he knew what he had to do.

The night before, he worked — with the help of Elain for the food, Feyre for the decorations, and Amren for the music — to set up the garden. He had been there before, countless times, but this time it felt different. The air, the atmosphere, the quiet, heavy regret weighing down his every step.

It wasn’t perfect. The cake was a little lopsided, the candles not quite the right height, the wine too sweet, but it was the effort he’d put into it.

Cassian stood under the arch of flowers, staring out into the empty garden, waiting for Y/N.

And he waited.

But she never came.

Well, that was expected. Time to grovel some more.

Each day, he wrote more. His words were no longer just apologies, but reflections of the bond he had with her, a bond he could never again take for granted.

The next letter arrived, tucked neatly under her door.

“Y/N, I thought I knew what love was before I met you. I thought it was strength, something built on the battlefield. But love with you — it’s quiet moments, tender glances, it’s all the things I never knew I needed. I won’t ever stop fighting for you. Not until you know just how much you mean to me. Cassian”

the gift beside the letter was a beautiful ruby glass heart container that stored a small vial of perfume, infused with the essence of the lavender blooms from the cliffs of Velaris — a scent that reminded him of Y/N’s laughter, the way her presence filled any room with warmth and joy.

The days dragged on as Cassian poured every ounce of his focus into making up for his mistakes. Each day, he sat in his favorite spot by the window, gazing out at the skies, thinking about the next moment he could make it right. He knew he couldn’t fix the damage he’d done with mere words — it would take action, sincerity, and time.

On the sixth day since the argument, Cassian finally gathered the courage to present the gift he had so carefully crafted. It had been almost impossible to get any sleep these past few days, his guilt and love driving him to the brink. He had even considered getting down on his knees to beg for forgiveness, but he knew it wasn’t enough to simply ask for her love — he had to show her.

Cassian stood in the heart of Velaris' gardens, a place where he and Y/N had spent so many peaceful moments together—under the sprawling canopy of ancient trees, surrounded by blooming flowers that burst with vibrant colors. He had chosen this spot on purpose. He knew that their love had always been nurtured here, where the earth seemed to echo the beauty of their bond, and the breeze carried whispers of memories.

He hadn’t expected her to come. After everything that had happened, he had resigned himself to the idea that Y/N might never forgive him. The ache in his chest was unbearable as he stared at the perfect arrangement he had created—a table set for two, draped with a soft, silk cloth that shimmered in the light of the setting sun. Candles flickered in delicate holders, casting a warm glow, while the scent of jasmine and lavender filled the air—flowers Y/N had once told him reminded her of serenity.

He wasn’t sure if she would ever forgive him, but he had to try. He had to show her that he had learned. That he was worthy of her love.

The gift he had chosen for her sat at the center of the table on a velvet cloth, a small, intricately carved box.

Inside it lay something special: a silver locket. A locket that held a tiny, hand-painted picture of Y/N, done in beautiful detail, her smile captured perfectly by the artist who had worked tirelessly to get every little detail right. The locket was attached to a delicate silver chain, with intricate swirls of magic carved into the edges. Inside, it also held a piece of stardust—a glowing reminder of their bond, a symbol of the magic that connected them, no matter how far apart they might be.

The locket was something personal, something Cassian knew would mean the world to her. He hoped she could see it as more than just a gift, but as a promise—of his love, his regret, and his dedication to never again make her feel forgotten.

He wasn’t sure if she’d come. The hours passed, the sun beginning to set, casting everything in a golden light that felt both beautiful and heavy with the weight of his regrets.

But then, just as he had almost resigned himself to the fact that she might never return, the soft sound of footsteps echoed through the garden.

Cassian’s breath caught in his throat. He turned around slowly, his heart pounding as he saw Y/N standing in the entrance, her eyes cautious but filled with something he could not yet name. She wore a soft, flowing gown that shimmered in the fading light. The sight of her took his breath away, but the sadness in her eyes made it impossible to smile.

She stood there, frozen for a long moment, her gaze lingering on the table and the gift. Cassian felt his chest tighten. Was she here to yell at him again? To push him away? Or was there a chance, a small hope, that she might forgive him?

"Y/N..." His voice was a low rasp as he took a step toward her, his heart beating painfully fast.

She still didn’t move, her eyes fixed on the gift and the flowers. The moment stretched, the silence heavy and filled with everything unspoken.

“Cassian,” she whispered, her voice so small, so unsure.

Cassian stepped closer, as if compelled by an invisible force, his arms trembling as he slowly reached for the small velvet box, his heart in his throat. He placed it in her hands, his voice barely a whisper. “I know I’ve hurt you… and I can never take that back. But this is for you. To show you how much you mean to me. Please, Y/N. Please just let me try.”

Y/N stared at the box in her hands for a moment, the tension between them palpable, before she carefully opened it, revealing the silver locket inside. Her breath caught, and Cassian watched the flicker of emotion pass across her face—surprise, confusion, and something softer that made him ache.

He’d prepared himself for rejection, for anger, but the quiet sorrow in her eyes cut deeper than any of that.

She gently ran her fingers over the locket, her touch reverent, as if she was trying to make sense of it. The garden around them seemed to hold its breath in that moment, the flowers swaying in the soft breeze as if waiting for her words.

“Cassian…” Her voice was a mere whisper, fragile like glass, and it sent a ripple of pain through his chest. He watched her carefully, wanting to hold her, but knowing she wasn’t ready for that yet.

“I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to fix this. I…” He trailed off, his own words failing him. What could he say to make her understand the depth of his regret? The weight of the mistakes he had made? “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life. And I—I know I’ve failed you. I’ve hurt you in a way I never should have. But please, just know that I would never, ever do it again especially not knowingly. I would burn the world down for you, Y/N.”

Her eyes flickered with emotion, her lips trembling as she finally looked up from the locket, meeting his gaze. “I know you love me, Cassian.” The words were quiet, but they were enough to shatter some of the walls around his heart. “I know you do. But love isn’t just in the words. It’s in the actions. It’s in showing up when it matters the most. And when you didn’t even think of me on my birthday—when you didn’t even check in—I felt... invisible. Forgotten. Like I didn’t matter to you.”

The pain in her voice stung, and he took a step closer, his own voice strained as he spoke. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I wish I could take it back. I wish I could have been there for you. But I didn’t—”

“No.” She shook her head, cutting him off. “It wasn’t just that you weren’t there. It was that you didn’t even remember. It wasn’t about the gifts or the gestures. It was about you—the one person I thought would never forget, never let me feel alone.” She swallowed hard, her eyes beginning to shimmer with unshed tears. “I needed you. And you weren’t there.”

The words were a dagger to his chest, and he couldn’t breathe for a moment. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I know that. But Y/N… I’m here now. And I’ll spend every single day making up for it. You mean the world to me. I’m nothing without you. You’re my heart. My mate. My everything.”

Her gaze softened, but the hurt was still there, lingering like a shadow between them. She took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the locket as she held it close to her heart. “I was so angry, Cassian. I didn’t even know if I could forgive you. I couldn’t understand how you could forget me like that. But...” She paused, her breath shaky as she wiped away a tear. “But I love you. And I can’t just hold on to that anger. I don’t want to. I want to forgive you. I need to forgive you.”

Cassian’s breath caught in his throat. “Y/N… you mean it?”

She nodded, her tears now falling freely as she took a step closer to him, her voice soft but unwavering. “I mean it. You’re my mate, Cassian. And I know we’ve been through worse. I can’t lose you over this.”

Before he could say anything more, she closed the distance between them, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face into his chest. Cassian’s arms instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her close as if he never wanted to let go. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her, the feel of her against him filling the empty space in his soul.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry for making you feel like that. I never want to hurt you again. You’re everything to me.”

Y/N pulled back slightly, her eyes still glistening with tears, but the softness in her gaze was undeniable. “Don’t do that again. Please.” She punched him lightly in the chest, her laugh shaky but genuine. “Don’t you dare forget me like that again. Not on something so important.”

Cassian chuckled softly, the sound like music to his ears after the storm they had just weathered. “I swear to you, I’ll never forget again. You’re my heart, Y/N. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

She smirked, shaking her head. “Better. Now, let’s sit down and eat. I’m starving.”

Cassian grinned and, with a gentle but firm hand on her back, guided her to the table he had prepared. The soft flicker of candlelight illuminated their faces as they sat down together, the world around them quiet and peaceful. The only sounds were the soft crackle of the candles, the rustling of the leaves in the breeze, and the occasional clink of silverware.

He smiled at her, that same playful grin she loved so much, and poured her a glass of wine. “You sure you’re not just hungry for an excuse to avoid the subject of my deeply regrettable failure?” He teased, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. “Maybe. But you’re lucky I love you, idiot.” She picked up her glass, clinking it gently against his. “To us, Cassian. To love. To second chances.”

“To second chances,” he echoed, his heart lighter than it had been in days. He leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss against her lips before pulling back and saying softly, “I’ll spend my entire life proving to you that I’m worthy of the love you’ve given me. I promise.”

They spent the evening together in the garden, talking, laughing, and simply being with each other. The night was soft and full of promise, and though the pain of the past few days still lingered in the corners of their minds, it was no longer all-consuming. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Cassian felt peace settle in his heart. He had his mate back. And that was all that mattered.

As the stars twinkled overhead, Cassian knew one thing for certain: he would never let her down again.

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

[floralcyanide]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪɴᴅ — ᴄᴀʟʟᴜᴍ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇʀ

callum turner x fem!reader (nsfw)

In which a chance reconnection with your ex, Callum Turner, brings you to his hotel room- and he talks you through more than just your breakup.

✣ warnings: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, language, female anatomy described, nipple play, finger sucking, fingering, mutual orgasm, love confessions

✣ word count: 2.7k

✣ author’s note: I wrote half of this weeks ago and just finished it. hope ya'll enjoy ((:

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

based on this song | the death of peace of mind - bad omens

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

The last thing on your mind today was running into your ex, Callum Turner, yet here you are. 

He’s sitting adjacent to you in the script reading session for your new movie- and you had no idea of the cast until today, so seeing him was an absolute surprise. You try your best to remain neutral and keep yourself from looking at him, but you find yourself glancing up at him frequently. He looks great, of course, which makes it hard not to stare. You remind yourself Callum is an ex for a reason and focus on your turns to read the script. Callum had broken up with you because he had found himself unsure of his feelings and hadn’t elaborated further on it before leaving. So, you have struggled for a while with self-confidence and identity. It’s not entirely his fault, but not knowing how he felt for you during your relationship did something to you emotionally and mentally. 

When the reading concluded, you tried your best to make a clean getaway, but Callum’s long strides and quick maneuvering skills got him to you in the hallway in record time. A gentle hand is placed on your shoulder in the sea of cast and crew exiting.

“Long time no see,” Callum flashes his brilliant smile at you once you turn to face him.

“Yeah,” you half-smile, “Sure has.”

Callum stares intently into your eyes for a few seconds longer than usual before he notices he hasn’t responded. He visibly shakes his head out of his mess of thoughts, “How have you been?”

“Could be better,” you shrug, “But I’ll be fine, always am.”

You keep your answers brief, with as little to go on as possible. 

“Would you like to meet at my hotel for coffee later? There’s a cafe in the lobby that’s pretty good,” Callum scratches the back of his neck, “I just need to talk to you about something and would rather do it somewhere other than the corridor,” he laughs nervously.

“Oh,” you purse your lips, momentarily looking down at your feet before answering, “I don’t know, Callum. Is it really a good idea for us to talk outside the set?”

Callum clears his throat, “Well. I was hoping to talk to you about that, actually. See, I didn’t tell you everything when we broke up about how I felt, and I think you deserve to know, ‘s all.”

You sigh, “I suppose knowing wouldn’t hurt, even though it’s been a year already. Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”

“I was afraid,” Callum admits, “I thought you hated me.”

You frown, “I don’t hate you, Callum. I promise.”

Callum brightens, “So you’ll meet me at the coffee shop? Tomorrow, maybe? Ten in the morning?”

“Fine,” you agree, “Tomorrow it is.”

Callum gives you the hotel’s address and leaves you in the hallway, turning as he walks away to wave goodbye.

You’re laying in bed that night staring at the ceiling. You still love Callum; don’t get yourself wrong. But if he didn’t feel the same, why entertain it? Besides, it seemed like he never really felt that way for you, and that’s why he dipped last year. At the same time, however, you don’t know that for sure because Callum didn’t tell you much. You guess you’ll find out more tomorrow. You roll over and will yourself to sleep.

You definitely need the caffeine upon waking the following day from tossing and turning all night. You get ready and take a cab from your apartment to the hotel Callum is staying at, nervous the entire ride there. When you arrive at the cafe, Callum is sitting on a couch by the window, aimlessly scrolling through his phone, waiting for you. He hopes you come and don’t change your mind.

“You made it!” Callum grins as you walk in, and he stands up to greet you with a kiss on the cheek. 

Your entire body burns at the contact, but you try your best to push your feelings aside, “Of course I did.”

The two of you order and return to the couch, where you hesitantly sit beside Callum, his thigh touching yours. You find it familiar and comforting but, at the same time, very nerve-wracking. 

“So,” Callum turns to face you, “Do you mind me explaining everything? I promise you don’t owe me your time; I just feel you deserve to know why I left.”

“I don’t mind,” you say honestly, “In fact, I’d feel better hearing it.”

“Alright,” Callum nods, “To be honest, I was scared. I had feelings for you I had never felt for anyone before, and I didn’t know how to handle them.”

You focus on Callum’s words, carefully turning them over in your head, “I understand.”

“I loved you, you know,” Callum rubs his palms on his thighs, a nervous laugh leaving his lips, “And I fucked it up.”

You stare at him wordlessly, unsure of how to respond.

“Still do, actually. Love you.”

Your ears begin to ring, and you almost don’t hear your names being called for your coffee orders until Callum stands up and walks over to retrieve them. He loved you? Still loves you, rather? Your facial expression- one of shock- is still apparent when Callum sits back down next to you and offers you your drink.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “I just didn’t expect that.”

“You don’t have to return those feelings, by the way. I just needed to tell you that’s how I felt then and still feel now.”

“Despite leaving me a little lost a year ago, a part of me still loves you too, Cal. But I don’t know what to do with that.”

“It’s up to you, sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything if that’s what you wish.”

“How do I know you really love me?” you blurt, shocking yourself with your words.

Callum puts a hand on your knee, “You can trust me, or I can prove it to you.”

Clutching your untouched drink in your hand, you wonder what he could mean by that.

“Prove it how?”

“You know a thing or two about that, I think,” Callum says suggestively, and your body burns like fire again.

You scoff, “I do. But how do I know you won’t just up and leave again after? Hmm?”

“I won’t,” Callum grabs your unoccupied hand, “I won’t this time, I promise. I don’t think I could leave you again.”

“Okay, then,” you admit defeat, “Show me just how much you really love me, Mr. Turner.”

Callum leads you to the elevator, where he presses the floor button and stands beside you, eyeing you up and down. When the doors close, he pulls you to his side as he finishes his coffee. You rest your head on his arm, sipping your own drink. Callum’s hand grips your waist, his touch hot even through your clothes. You're nearly shaking with nerves when you reach the top floor. The two of you had your go-arounds while together, of course. But it was never anything emotionally charged. You’re hoping Callum really does show you how much he loves you this time and doesn’t leave you hanging. He lets you follow him to his room, where he fumbles to unlock the door with his phone. Callum heads to the windows to close the drapes, his back muscles rippling under his shirt, much to your delight. He turns around and catches your gaze, maintaining eye contact with you as he returns to where you stand. Callum wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you to him after you sit your coffee down. He is taller than you, so you have to look up at him when standing so close. A closed-lip smile spreads on his face as he takes in your features. Callum pushes a stray strand of hair out of your face before leaning in.

“Do you want this?” he asks, his lips barely brushing against yours.

“Yes,” you whisper, “I do want this. Prove it to me.”

Callum captures your lips with his finally, and everything negative you felt about your relationship falls away. The comfort you’ve always found in him flows back into you as he guides his tongue along your bottom lip. Callum’s hands find your hair, where they tangle themselves in your locks for leverage. You allow him to explore your mouth softly as if it was his first time in uncharted territory. Your arms are around him, and your palms are settled on his back as he slowly moves the two of you over to the giant bed in the middle of the suite. You sit on the edge of it as Callum pulls his shirt off. He’s a little more muscular than the last time you saw him. You drink in his broad shoulders and toned chest, his thick biceps resting by your head as his fists dig into the mattress on either side of your legs. Callum is leaning over you, his demeanor shifting to something more dominant. He kisses you again before his hand moves to your chin, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

“Go lay on the pillows and get ready for me.”

A surge of excitement rushes through your veins as you nod, moving backward to where the pillows sit at the top of the bed. You peel off your shirt and jeans, kicking them off the side of the bed onto the floor where your shoes are haphazardly lying. Callum climbs over you, taking in the sight of you. He lays beside you, patting his spread, underwear-clad thighs for you to sit. You oblige, his chest pressed to your back as you relax into his embrace. Callum’s large hands rub over your hips and legs, his skin hot against yours. He buries his nose into your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your shoulder and up your throat. Callum then lightly traces your jaw with his tongue before he reaches your ear, nibbling the shell of it. His hands travel from your thighs to your hips, all the way up your sides, until they reach your covered breasts. He squeezes them as he sucks a mark behind your ear, out of sight. You squirm lightly in his lap, inhaling sharply through your nose at the feeling of his teeth on your sensitive skin. Moving your hair out of the way from your ears, Callum continues his assault of bites on the back of your neck as his fingers slip underneath the cups of your bra. You hum as his fingers toy with your nipples, your head tossed back against his shoulder as he does so. This gives him more access to your neck, where he leaves open-mouthed kisses on the skin there. You feel him grow hard against your tailbone as he twists and rubs your sensitive nubs, eliciting moans from you.

“I miss the way you say my name,” Callum whispers in your ear, letting one of his hands travel back down to your stomach, where he slips a hand beneath the band of your underwear, “Say it.”

“Callum,” you gasp as his fingers ghost your heat, lightly brushing against your clit.

“Just like that, doll,” Callum grins into your shoulder, where his lips press to your skin.

He helps you out of your underwear, pulling it down your legs until you’re able to kick them off. Callum tosses one of your legs over his thigh, giving him easier access to you. You reach behind your back to unhook your bra, throwing it off the side of the bed.

“Kind of unfair that I’m the only naked one,” you frown.

“Be patient, I want to play with you first,” Callum kisses your cheek.

He prods your lips open with two of his fingers, allowing you to suck them in. You lave your tongue around them, coating them with your spit enough for Callum to be satisfied, “Good girl,” he coos.

He then gently circles your clit with his two slicked fingers, and your hips buck involuntarily. He uses his other arm to press you firmly against him. Callum continues to play with the bundle of nerves before letting a finger test your entrance to gauge how wet you’ve become. He’s able to slip a finger inside without struggle, curling it against the familiar spot that makes you groan. As he adds another finger, you grip Callum’s arm as his fingertips massage your g spot. 

“Callum, please,” you whine.

“Please, what?” Callum feels himself getting painfully harder against your back at the sounds you’re making, “Gotta use your words.”

“Show me how much you love me,” you beg, “Fuck me already.”

“Impatient, are we?” Callum smirks before removing his fingers from you and putting them in his mouth this time, relishing the wetness of your cunt, “God, the way you taste,” he moans.

Callum moves you over and off his lap so he can remove his pants and underwear before hovering over you. He braces himself on his arms on either side of your head, bringing his face to yours, “Are you sure you want this?” he asks again.

“Yes,” you say, grabbing his face and looking him in the eye, “I want this.”

“Not that your begging wasn’t enough; I just needed to hear you say it,” he jokes, lining himself up to your entrance.

You playfully smack his chest before digging your nails into it as he pushes inside you slowly. You wrap an arm around his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair. Callum fully seats himself inside you, his forehead pressed to yours. You wrap a leg around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Callum focuses on breathing properly, as your clenching around him makes it hard not to pound you into the mattress. You wiggle your hips a little, letting him know he could move. Callum holds your hips up, moving your legs over his shoulders to get a better angle. He pulls out just enough to thrust back in, gaining a steady rhythm. The noises you let out just urge Callum to go faster and harder as he kisses along your thighs.

“I love you,” Callum says, biting down on your thigh and causing you to yelp, which makes him grin.

“I love you too,” you say breathlessly, your hands gripping his biceps for leverage.

“Do you believe me when I say it now?” Callum bites his lip, feeling your walls clenching harder around him.

You’re close, and he can feel it. He reaches between your bodies and presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles against it.

“Yes,” you say, almost illegible, “Fuck, I believe you, Cal.”

“Good,” he pants, sweat beading on his forehead.

Your fingernails dig into his muscles as you feel yourself about to let go, your stomach tightening into a knot. Callum feels his orgasm creeping up as he snaps his hips faster against your ass, his grip on your thighs almost bruising. Your orgasm hits suddenly, like a tsunami of pleasure taking over your senses. Your body shakes as Callum’s own climax surges through him, your convulsing cunt milking his cock. You’re both gasping for air as Callum lets your back fall against the bed as he pulls out, collapsing next to you. 

“That was…”

“Amazing?” Callum turns his head to look at you, 

“Yeah,” you’re quick to pull the duvet over you as your sweat cools on your skin, “Better than any time before, honestly.”

“Agreed,” Callum puts an arm behind his head to rest on, “I’m still sorry for not telling you how I felt. I didn’t really know what it was at the time.”

“It’s okay now, Cal,” you roll over on your side, putting a hand on his chest, “You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Callum kisses the top of your head, “Okay. I won’t.”

The next day, when the script is read over again, tensions are definitely not as high. You don’t struggle as much with your lines, and being around Callum is easier. You’re glad it all worked out; maybe this time, it’ll last without confusion.

[purploozi]

Love at First Sight | Choi Seung Cheol

Pairing: Seungcheol x fem!Reader (reader is a pediatric doctor)

Genre: a little angst

Warning: hospital environment and a very small mention of alcohol, maybe? (let me know if there's anything else)

This took me longer than expected because this past few days have been a roller coaster. But! The third part is finally done (read part 1 and part 2 before reading this to enjoy it better)

Seungcheol had to act. He couldn’t just walk away and never see her again—no, that wasn’t an option. He wanted her in his life. But what if she rejected him? Has she ever even shown interest in him? Y/N’s smile was always gentle and she directed that smile toward him a couple of times. She also remembered the things he talked about. But that didn’t mean anything, right? It’s just the way her personality is—always kind and sweet to everyone. That was what he liked about her. Yes, he had decided. He was going to ask her on a date.

“Your knee is healing properly. The wheelchair is no longer needed, but don’t put too much strain on your left leg, alright? Come back in a month for a check-up. That’s all, you can go” Seungcheol nodded and thanked the doctor. He stood in the hallway with his manager by his side. “Well, you heard him. Let’s go” the manager said while grabbing Seungcheol’s bag, but he didn’t move “Can we wait for a bit? There’s someone I want to see…”. The manager wasn’t convinced, but he indulged him and they both took a seat in the hallway. An hour passed, but Y/N was nowhere to be seen. That was unusual. Seungcheol knew, after observing her routine for over a month, that she was constantly walking around the hallways…where was she? The manager was getting anxious, he was told to drive Seungcheol to his apartment to rest. “I think we should get going” but Seungcheol insisted on waiting just a little longer. Half an hour crawled by, and unease settled in his chest. What if something had happened to her? Not being able to stay still any longer, he stood up and walked toward the desk of the pediatrics wing. “Excuse me, I’m looking for doctor Y/N…is she here?” The nurse behind the desk told him that she was attending a surgery that got complicated and that she was not going to be available for hours. Seungcheol nodded in thanks before turning to his manager, who was waiting patiently. Without another word, they left the hospital.

Each day felt colder without her. Seungcheol missed her—yearning for her warmth. He dreamed of waking up by her side but he was only waking up to an empty side of the bed. How was it possible to miss something that never happened? With each passing day without seeing her, his resolve began to crumble. He was scared—what if she just rejected him? He wasn’t sure if he could deal with that…wouldn’t it be easier to live with the what if? That way, it wouldn’t hurt as much…right? “Since when are you such a coward?” Woozi’s voice cut through the spiral of thoughts that were forming in Seungcheol’s head “Just go and ask her for a date. If she rejects you then…well, at least you know you tried and we can all go out to drink something”. Just go and ask her…could he do that? Woozi is right though—he is no coward. He always fought for what he considered right, for his dream and for what he wanted…then why is he behaving like this now? Does it scare him so much to be rejected by her? It does. But if he doesn’t ask her—he will regret it later. Right. He had to try. Seungcheol stood up from the couch and while leaving Woozi’s studio said “If it doesn’t work out, I’ll call you later for that drink” the only answer he received was a low “good luck” that was drowned by the sound of the newest song Woozi was working on.

With his mind settled into asking her on a date, Seungcheol drove through the streets of Seoul toward the hospital. Where he expected to find—his love at first sight.

Don't kill me for ending it here!!! I promise to post the next part tomorrow. The thing is that I was anxious to post something so I decided to post this part that was already (in my opinion) ready to be posted today and to post the rest (that still needs a little bit of work) tomorrow~💜

Last part of this story~🍒

[steviesummer]

inspired by and as a direct follow up to this post by @strangersteddierthings:

Eddie is horrified. He remembers the day Steve is referring to, though clearly not as well as Steve does. He calls out as Steve raced up the stairs and hears his door slam.

“Fuck.” He stares blankly at the wall in front of him. He can’t believe things went so bad so quickly. He’s been trying to get to know Steve better, get closer and damn if he didn’t just blow the hole thing. He’d shown up early, told Steve he needed to prepare as an excuse to spend some time with him. Despite everything that happened over spring break, Steve had remained guarded, standoffish no matter what Eddie tried. At least now he knew why. He’d fucked things up before he’d known there was something to fuck up.

He feels even worse about calling him a bully. Sure, Steve had looked the other way and even laughed at some of the mean jokes others had made, but he was far from the worst. That dubious award went to Billy Hargrove, but even without him, there was plenty of people who did far worse than Steve did. Especially because Steve is right. He did hit first, metaphorically at least. He can justify it all he wants as trying to protect himself, but that doesn’t make it right. Steve all but admitted that as he said the same thing. He feels nauseous at the realization that maybe he was just as bad as those he decried. That for all his talk about accepting outcasts and defying convention, he was just as prejudiced. Swallowing hard, he heads back to the dining room and looks at the clock. There is no way he is going to be able to run the campaign today. He’s not going to be able to focus or even play without thinking about how things might have been if he hadn’t driven Steve off all those years ago. He grabs the phone and dials Gareth’s number. “Emerson house, Sheryl speaking.” “Hi Mrs. Emerson, it’s Eddie.” Eddie is proud that he manages to keep his voice even. “Is Gareth there?” “Oh, yes! Let me go get him for you.” “Thanks Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie focuses on breathing while he waits. “Eddie? Hey man, what’s up?” Eddie breathes out. “Hey Gareth. Look, I know its last minute, but we’re gonna have to postpone Hellfire. Something came up.” He could hear Gareth’s frown through the phone. “Postpone? What happened, did Harrington do something?” As if he couldn’t feel worse. “Nah. I’ll explain later, but can you call Jeff and Frank, let them know? I gotta call the freshman, too.” “Alright, but I’m going to hold you to that.” “Fair enough. Talk to you tomorrow.” Eddie promises before hanging up. He weighs his options for how to tell the Party. Eventually, he decides on calling Mike, know that the younger teen won’t push too much. He’s dialing the Wheeler home before he can second guess his decision. “This is Mike.” Eddie feels a rush of gratitude that Mike is the one who answered, rather than Nancy or one of their parents. “Hey Mike, it’s Eddie. Listen, Steve’s not feeling great and having Hellfire here isn’t going to help. Can you call the rest of the Party, let them know we’re gonna move it to another day? I’ll keep an eye on Steve.” Eddie knows Mike is a confused, given how adamant he’s been in the past about not canceling or moving Hellfire, but as he expected, Mike accepts what he says at face value. “Sure. Need us to bring anything?” “Nah, I’ve got it. Pretty sure he just needs some peace and quiet so he can rest. But thanks.” They say their goodbyes and Eddie puts the phone back on the hook.  With that done, he checks that the door is locked and faces the stairs. Now for the hard part. He’s not sure what he’s going to say, if there is anything he can say that will fix this, but he has to try. Even if doesn’t change things between him and Steve, Steve deserves at least that much. Every step feels like it takes effort, chest heavy with guilt, but it only takes him a few moments to get to Steve’s door. It’s closed, which doesn’t surprise him. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before knocking. Nothing. “Steve?” If it wasn’t for the quiet sound of Steve’s breathing he could hear through the door, Eddie would think he had left. He glad that he at least didn’t drive Steve out of his own home. He rests his forehead on the door. “I’m sorry.” Eddie hopes Steve can hear how much he means it. “You’re right, I fucked up. I made an assumption and took out my anger at other people on you. And that wasn’t fair and it’s not okay. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. Even if it wasn’t you, I shouldn’t have done that.” He lets out a hysterical laugh as he realizes - “And despite that, you still humor the kids when they talk about D&D and agreed to let us play here and didn’t punch me in the face, which makes you a better man than I.” He falls silent, listens as Steve’s breathing slows. He isn’t sure how long he stands there. He wonders how many other people he hurt this way, without even realizing. Knows he wants to do better, be better. He sighs, feeling his shoulders slump. “Anyway, I canceled Hellfire for today. I told everyone something came up, don’t worry about that. I’ll make up some story, make sure they know its not your fault. And uh,  let me know if you want to hang out again or something. I know I’ve been around a lot; didn’t realize that I was making you so uncomfortable, which is probably another thing I should apologize for. Anyway. Yeah. I’ll see you around, okay?” He waits a moment for an answer, but when none comes, he backs away from the door and walks downstairs to gather his stuff. It hurts, but he knows Steve deserves space and to be the one to initiate contact. He has some thinking to do, anyway.

[pullupinarari]

hi bea! read the clingy lewis blurb and smth came in mind. just imagine reader has a routine where she would kiss lewis good morning every time he first come to her after waking up. but one day reader didnt. and well lets just say the clingy husband is coming out 🤭

a/n: another one about clingy husband Lewis because yall loved this concept apparently 😭 these blurbs are getting too long, maybe it’s time for me to get a grip 🤧 I’m posting this and I’m off to bed so I can work on my masters project in the morning. I’ll be back tomorrow with another blurb! Hope you enjoy this, mwah 🩷

It’s a routine, a tradition, whatever you want to call it. Ever since you and Lewis started dating, your ‘good morning’ kisses were something sacred that neither of you would ever give up. Whenever you two were lucky enough to spend the night together and wake up next to the other in bed, without having to rush to work, you could just enjoy being in the presence of the love of your life. You would lay in silence, just sharing sweet kisses, soft touches and taking in the feeling of gratitude for being together.

And when work would force you to stay away for a while, the morning calls were essential for the both of you - the way you could see each other’s face as soon as you would wake up, would be enough to light up your day already.

Tonight, Lewis is lying beside you, sounding peacefully asleep while one of his arms is draped over your body, hugging you close to him. However, your mind rushes, insisting on keeping you awake while you try to sleep, to get some rest.

Tomorrow morning, you have a very important work meeting, and the thought of it is making your body erupt in a pool of nerves and anxiety already, and you can’t stop thinking about it.

You don’t remember around what time you managed to fell asleep, you just remember waking up to the sensation of the warm lips of your husband caressing your collarbone gently, trailing their path until your neck. You hum slightly at the feeling at first, enjoying his touch on your body, making you dive further in the sheets.

But then, your brain wakes up, reminding you of your work meeting: your eyes shot open, checking the clock on your bedside table, and a rush of electricity runs through your blood when you realize that you are late for work already.

Immediately getting up, you run to the bathroom, trying to get ready as soon as possible, knowing that you don’t have much time left until your meeting starts.

On the bed, you left a confused Lewis, a question mark visible on his facial expression, his eyebrows furrowed while he blinks his eyes repeatedly, trying to make sense of what just happened.

“Baby?” - he says from the bed. “Come back to bed?” - Lewis’ voice is sounding small, trying to understand what’s wrong with you.

“I’m late for work!” - you shout from the bathroom as you finish your hair and makeup, running to the closet to get dressed.

Your words enter your husband’s brain, the situation making more sense to him now. He lays back down, patiently waiting for you to finish getting ready so he can have his much awaited good morning kiss.

He hears you ruffling through the closet, and he sees you coming back to the bedroom to grab your phone from the bedside table. You look like a tornado, carrying your bag while you run from one side to the other, trying to gather everything you need without forgetting anything.

His eyes are trained on you, expectantly looking at your movements, waiting for you to remember him - he is right there, where you left him, and he just wants two seconds of your attention so you can give him a kiss before heading to work.

“Shit, I can’t believe I’m so late, my boss is going to kill me!” - you sigh loudly, and Lewis hears your words coming from the corridor, echoing through the space.

“See you later Lew, lunch is on you! Please take care of that” - you scream to him as you reach the front door, running to your car as you get on your way to work.

Lewis is left dumbfounded. Sinking his head into the pillow as he huffs, his lips immediately form a small pout absently as he realizes that you didn’t even bother stopping at the bedroom door, to wave him goodbye or something. You haven't even looked him in the eyes since you woke up this morning.

The man is left alone for the rest of the morning, his mind wondering if he has done anything wrong. He just got back from a work trip himself, maybe he has done something that hurt you without realizing it. Maybe that’s why you didn’t take a second of your time to kiss him, to look at him, to take in his presence - breaking your ‘good morning kiss’ tradition.

His thoughts make his heart sink, so he decides to send you a text, wishing you a good day at work and finishing his message with a heartfelt “I love you ❤️”, to which you didn’t reply.

He is feeling sad, insecure, unsure of what happened, of what to do. The only thing he knows is that he is supposed to make lunch for the both of you, so he decides to cook your favorite dish - hoping that would make up for whatever he might have done, while he patiently waits for you to come back on your lunch break.

You spend the entire morning drowning in work, not even having time to check your phone, the message that your husband sent you still waiting to be opened on your device. You let out a sigh - relieved to be home already for your break once you walk inside.

The scent of your favorite food is lingering in the air, immediately filling your senses when you reach for the kitchen. Lewis is stirring the pot in front of him while Roscoe is lying next to the fridge, who turns his head to look at you once he hears your steps.

“Hey chef” - you joke, grabbing a bottle of water before leaving the room again to put your shoes away.

Again, no kiss. What happened to the wife that would kiss her husband first thing as soon as she saw him? Lewis is starting to worry, noticing how you’re acting as if everything is fine meanwhile he is holding his heart in his hands.

He takes a deep breath, gaining the courage to talk to you once you’re back in the kitchen.

“Is lunch ready? I’m so hungry” - you say as you kneel down to pet Roscoe.

“Love?” - Lewis calls, catching your attention as you look him in the eyes for the first time today. “Can we talk?”

You nod your head. “Sure, what’s up?”

He looks down for a second, playing with his fingers before speaking up. “Did I do something wrong?” - his whispers, trying to find some answers in your facial expressions.

Your eyes widen, surprised by his question. “No baby, why? What’s wrong?” - you give him your full attention now, your body getting closer to him.

You notice the way he starts pouting, the sight being enough already to break your heart. “It’s just that… you didn’t kiss me good morning today. Or kiss me at all. And I even sent you a cute text and you didn’t reply, so I was wondering if I might have done something without realizing” - his eyes are big, laced with worry as he continued sulking, his bottom lip sticking out in the most adorable pout you’ve ever seen.

Your hands cup his face, remembering this morning’s events and understanding now why he feels so bad.

“Oh, Lew! I’m sorry! You did nothing wrong, I swear. I was just so nervous for this meeting that my mind never even thought about it. And I didn’t reply to your texts because I didn’t even have time to check my phone, it’s been buried somewhere in my bag since the moment I left the house” - your tone is apologetic, your face sympathetic as you find his figure so adorable, sulking because he wants your kisses.

You finally attach your lips together, caressing his cheeks while you do so, and your husband immediately wraps his arms around your shape, not letting you go for the world - deepening the kiss as much as he can, your mouths glued together until you are running out of air.

He sighs when you break the kiss, feeling a wave of relief washing over him now.

“I didn’t know what to do. I just got back home from a work trip myself and now I didn’t even get a kiss. And you left me here all morning wondering about all the small things I did!” - you chuckle at his words, shaking your head as he is saying the silliest and most non-sense words in the world.

“Stop laughing” - he forces a pout again. “I missed my wife” - the man admits, connecting your lips again, wanting to make up for all the hours he just spent without receiving any attention from you.

“Well thank god that I’m here! And I’m hungryyyy! Can we finally eat, please?” - you ask him in between pecks, knowing damn well that Lewis won’t stop kissing you unless you are forcefully distancing your bodies from each other. You know how needy your man can be.

He rolls his eyes at your words playfully. “I’m right here and you are worried about a plate of food? You could have me instead” - the cheeky tone leaving his throat matches the smirk on his face, and you can’t help but laugh at his words while reaching for the stove, getting ready to serve lunch.

He hugs you from behind, kissing your shoulder as he watches your actions. You sigh in response, feeling the way he is holding you tight while you are desperate to sit down and eat, and he notes the sound coming from your body.

“Damn, is it a crime for a man to miss his wife?” - Lewis tells you in a dramatic tone, tightening his hold on you even more playfully.

“Lewis, we are going to have lunch now-“ - he cuts you off immediately.

“I MISS MY WIFE” - your husband states again, chuckling on your skin while his lips kiss your cheek, your laugh erupting through the kitchen, already aware that you will have a lot to make up for to your clingy husband tonight.

[thefluxsystem]

10 mindsets about my DID that have helped my system:

[This is solely for the sake of sharing experiences & supplying food for thought. This post is not implying these takes are the “right way” to view systemhood.]

1. We’re individuals and we’re parts of a whole. We see each other as people in our system, but in a different way than those in their own bodies. We share a brain. We share a life. I’m me, but I’m also him/her/them at the same time. If you take a piece out of a puzzle, it doesn’t cease to exist, right? It’s still its own object. It just doesn’t make much sense when it stands alone. We need each other to be truly complete.

2. Time keeps coming. I know it’s not an unlimited resource, but it’s not scarce either. Okay, so somebody in the system didn’t get to do what they planned today. They’ll do it tomorrow. No big deal. No need to fight about it or stress over “how I’ll ever manage all this”. We’ll simply give it another shot in the morning.

3. Reality is subjective. We’re a very philosophically-inclined system, and I could write books on what “reality is subjective” means. Basically, reality is based on perception. On a societal level, it is based in the common agreement of what something is. If anyone’s perception tests the limits of this common agreement, it is labeled as untrue. This ties into why DID is largely disbelieved; it doesn’t fit in with the common reality (perception) of the average person. So it is seen as fake. And, well, if I’m going to be told I’m wrong for the most basic, inherent part of this disorder… I don’t really care if they disagree with any other aspect of it. My reality is different. That’s okay.

4. There is no original. I strongly believe the Theory of Structural Dissociation. Maybe science will prove it wrong with a more suitable theory to take its place in the future, but it’s what I roll with at the moment. Now, to us, this translates as “there is no original/we were all the original”. We’re Adventure Time fans, so we think of it like the “Mother Gum”. If all of the Mother Gum broke off into people (like PB & Neddy), no specific one of them would be “the original”. Rather, they’d all be repurposed parts of the original whole. (In a less serious way, we like to say “we all came from the primordial personality soup”.)

5. Our body is shared equally. We’ve decided our body has its own identity & “look” that helps represent us as a whole, but doesn’t take after one member specifically. In a gnawingly self-aware way, I know this is a further form of dissociation. But adopting this view changed a lot for us in a positive way. We don’t fight about hair or clothes anymore, we don’t have discomfort around our legal name, we don’t even really have struggles with gender/sexuality anymore. (We identify differently internally, but externally we identify as nonbinary & bisexual. Even if the person fronting at the moment is, for example, a gay man.)

6. Be open-minded to what happens internally. Seems straightforward enough, but we’ve wasted a lot of time trying to “make rules” for each other in the system. The biggest example I can think of is in-system dating. Around 10 years ago, as we became more aware of each other, it became clear that two system members were basically in love. We immediately became defensive. We told them that they couldn’t do that, that two system members being together was absurd & “impossible”. (This view became stronger after discovering online system spaces & “fakeclaimers” that come with it.) Though we regret it now, we shamed those two a lot in the hopes they’d drop it. They didn’t. About 3 years later it became an actual problem. They didn’t trust us; they were fronting & we were coming back to absolutely no memory of it (we usually have a vague idea at least). Eventually, they wrote us a whole thing about how they were going to be together & there was really nothing anyone could do about it, seeing as we couldn’t technically keep them apart. In modern day, we’ve had an in-system couple recently fuse. Upon reflection, we were standing in the way of genuine healing by trying to break up the first two, and we did so solely out of shame. As long as it isn’t genuinely causing harm, we try to be accepting of each other these days. This applies to a lot of other aspects; how system members appear internally, the pronouns and/or identity labels they choose, anything to do with how system members engage with each other, our differing individual perceptions of an event, etc.

7. We don’t have to like each other, but we do have to love each other. Mostly because, if we don’t, we’re holding hatred for ourself. There are certainly members of my system I would never choose to befriend if we were actually separate people, but we’re not, and we don’t get to act like we are. So even though it’s hard, I’m learning to love every piece that makes up “me”, no matter how difficult they try to make it at times.

8. Nobody’s system works like mine except for mine. Meaning, no two systems are going to be alike, and experiences aren’t often going to translate perfectly. This is true for people who aren’t systems as well— everyone’s experience is going to be different, because nobody is wired exactly the same way. Once I took that to heart, it became easier to focus on my own way of being. I could take the pieces of represented/online systemhood that resonate with me & leave the rest (which probably resonates with someone else).

9. There’s a reason for everything. This kind of ties back into the ‘we have to love each other’ thing. Each component of the system is a clue regarding how to move forward. We had someone in the system getting really uptight & controlling, to a point that it was irritating, but, taking a step back, we recognized it was a response to feeling a lack of control. Instead of simply getting angry at him for how he was acting, we were able to address the problem. My collective self is more laid-back for it.

10. It’s okay not to focus on it all. DID is a part of my life for the rest of it, whether I like it or not, but it’s nice to let it be a background thing every once in a while. Who’s fronting? Who cares. What roles do we have? I don’t know. Who’s this new person in my head? I’ll figure it out later. We’re making it through as a team, and sometimes that’s enough.

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hi!

Can i request a Rhea ripley x fem reader where reader is a fan and she goes to watch her first match and she has this moment with rhea that goes viral (maybe rhea looked at her in the crowed a certain way and the cameras caught readers reaction?) and later they go on a cute date to get to know eachother?

Basically love at first sight

rhea ripley x reader

‼️ soft rhea, soft moments

caught in your spell

you had always been a fan of wrestling but you never imagined you’d be there, in that moment.

the arena was alive with energy, the sound of cheers and roars filling the air as the wrestlers did their thing in the ring but for you, there was only one wrestler who mattered - rhea ripley.

rhea was incredible, unapologetically herself and completely captivating.

every time she stepped into the ring, you couldn’t help but be drawn to her presence. she wasn’t just a wrestler, she was a leader, a champion, owning the ring with every move, every look, making her opponent fear for themselves.

you didn’t think much about it at first, standing there in the crowd - just another fan, waiting for the match to begin.

but when rhea stepped into the ring everything else faded into the background. you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. there was something about the way she carried herself, the way she dominated that space.

and then it happened.

she looked out into the crowd, her eyes scanning the audience and for a split second, your eyes locked. your heart skipped a beat. her intense, confident gaze met yours, and for that moment, it felt like you were the only person in the arena.

a smirk tugged at the corners of rhea’s lips. was it meant for you?

you weren’t sure, but the way she held your gaze that moment made it feel like she was seeing you, really seeing you.

your stomach fluttered and your mind raced, unsure whether you had just imagined it or if there was something more to that look.

before you could think on it too much, the match continued, and she shifted her focus back to what was happening in the ring but the memory of that moment stayed with you, replaying in your mind over and over. could she have noticed you? or was it just a coincidence?

a few days later, as you scrolled through your social media, something caught your eye.

a notification.

you opened it and your heart nearly stopped when you saw who had tagged you in a post.

@rhearipley_wwe.

that rhea ripley.

the rhea ripley.

the post replayed the scene caught by the cameras - you and her looking at each other.

“she has eyes for mami but mami has eyes for her.” - the caption said.

you blinked, uncertain if your eyes were deceiving you. there was a message attached to the post, and you hesitated for a moment before clicking it open.

“hey, i hope you don’t mind the post! i saw you at the show. wanna grab a drink sometime?”

your heart pounded in your chest as you reread the message. this couldn’t be real, could it? was rhea ripley really messaging you? was this some kind of joke? or was it actually happening?

you took a deep breath, your fingers trembling as you typed a response.

“hey! that sounds great. i’d love to.”

you sent the message before you could talk yourself out of it. seconds later, you got the notification - rhea ripley is typing….

you held your breath as the message popped up.

“perfect. i’ll pick you up tomorrow night. don’t be late.”

your heart was racing now. was this really happening? rhea ripley, the woman who had dominated your thoughts since that moment at the arena wanted to meet you, spend time with you.

the woman everyone wanted, wanted you?

————————

the next evening, you were a bundle of nerves. you couldn’t believe this was happening. you had to keep reminding yourself that this wasn’t a dream. when the knock on your door came, you nearly jumped out of your skin. you opened it, and there she was, standing on your doorstep. rhea ripley, looking even more incredible in person.

“hey” she said, her voice deep and confident, with that signature smirk of hers “you ready?”

you could barely form words, but you nodded, not trusting your voice. she chuckled and held out her hand. your pulse quickened as you took it, her touch warm and strong.

the night passed in a blur. you talked, laughed, and even shared a few personal stories. it was easy with her. she wasn’t just the fierce wrestler you’d seen on tv - she was real, and she was interested in you. as the night went on, you found yourself more and more drawn to her, to the way she made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

toward the end of the evening, as the two of you were walking to the car, rhea’s hand brushed against yours, and you felt your cheeks flush. she turned toward you, her expression softening.

“hey” she said, voice quieter now, almost teasing “there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you.”

you froze, feeling the weight of her gaze “w-what?” you stuttered, suddenly shy, unsure of where this was going.

rhea smirked, but there was something more vulnerable in her eyes now “you captured my attention from the moment i saw you in the crowd. i couldn’t get you out of my head. you make me go crazy, you know that?”

your heart skipped a beat.

you blinked at her, too stunned to respond at first.

did she really just say that?

“you…” you began, your voice barely a whisper, still processing her words, feeling the heat of your cheeks “you’re… crazy?”

rhea laughed softly, stepping closer, her hand gently touching your arm “in the best way, trust me. i’ve never felt like this about anyone before. you make me want to lose control…i saw you in the crowd and i thought - shit she’s incredibly beautiful - but as we spent the night together i also learned that you’re both gorgeous and smart, talented and sweet…” rhea confessed.

you could barely hold back your smile, the shyness in you overtaking everything. you didn’t know what to say, but just the fact that she was here, that she was saying this to you - it was enough.

rhea’s hand gently cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing over your skin “is it crazy that i want more of this? more of getting to know you? more of you?”

your heart raced, and you couldn’t help but nod, a shy smile playing on your lips “no…i want that too.”

rhea leaned in closer, her lips just inches from yours. she paused, searching your face for any sign of hesitation but all she found was your nervous, eager expression. with a quiet chuckle, she closed the distance between you, her lips pressing softly against yours.

your breath hitched at the contact and you froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. but rhea’s hands were gentle as she guided you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other resting at your waist. she kissed you slowly at first, as if savoring the moment, before deepening it, her lips moving with more urgency.

the kiss was intoxicating. rhea’s presence overwhelmed you in the best way, her warmth and confidence making you forget everything around you. you felt yourself melting into her, your body instinctively responding to hers. you had never felt anything like this before.

when the kiss finally broke you were both breathless, your face flushed with heat. rhea pulled back slightly, still holding you close. her eyes were darker now, filled with desire, but there was tenderness in her touch as she smoothed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“i’ve been waiting for that” she murmured, her voice low and husky “from the moment i saw you tonight…”

you couldn’t help but smile, the shyness creeping back in as you glanced up at her “me too.”

rhea chuckled softly, brushing her thumb over your lips - she still couldn’t get over your shyness “i think this is just the beginning for us.”

you nodded, your heart full as you stared up at her, feeling like you were floating. this was real. and rhea ripley wasn’t going anywhere.

_________________________

likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed!

[damthosefandoms]

The clock is ticking in the kitchen. Ponyboy is out past curfew. With Dally. The door creaks open, and Darry stands up so fast he nearly falls over. Sodapop walks in, and if he wasn’t freaking out so badly about Pony, maybe Darry would’ve caught the look on his brother’s face.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

“Just me?” Soda says. His eyes are red and puffy. “Why’re you makin’ that face?”

“Pony ain’t back yet,” Darry mutters. “Close the door, you’ll let in bugs.”

Soda does, slowly. He walks over, kinda keeping his head down. Looking anywhere but at Darry.

“Normally I’d be worried too, but actually that kind of works out, ‘cause I have to tell you something I don’t want him to know about yet. I mean…”

He kicks at the throw rug with his foot. “I told him a little last night, but he prolly thinks I was just daydreamin’ and that’s for the best.”

Darry watches him carefully. Oh, so now he’s paying attention. 

“What’s goin’ on? You went out with Steve and the girls tonight, didn’t you? Did something happen?”

“I asked Sandy to marry me tonight.”

Darry laughs, a quick, sharp thing. It stings. He doesn’t get it. Ponyboy didn’t either, but he’s fourteen, only been fourteen for a month. He didn’t need to yet.

“You’re dreamin’ Sodapop. You might’ve dropped outta school this year, but you two are way too young for—”

“She’s pregnant.”

They stare at each other for a solid minute, the only sound the clock ticking in the background and the crickets outside. Just the two of them standing there processing the information.

Darry starts to raise a hand, to hold up a finger in a “wait a minute” kind of gesture, and he moves his mouth like he’s going to say something, but nothing comes out. Soda’s heart hurts in his chest and he tries not to start bawling right there in front of his big brother.

“Well, it don’t matter, anyway. Sandy doesn’t know if it’s mine or not. And if it is it still don’t matter ‘cause her folks are livid. They’re makin’ her move to Florida to live with her grandmother or somethin’, and she dumped me so I’ll never get to see her again, or the baby at all, and she’s leavin’ tomorrow afternoon, and if you could not lose your mind at me I’d really ‘preciate it ‘cause I feel like worse than garbage already.”

He really fights not to let the tears spill over, and granted he does a good job of not breaking down, but some do fall. Darry looks like he will blow any second now, but he just breathes in, breathes out, closes his eyes, and says in a very calculated and careful voice:

“Ponyboy went out with Dally and the gang tonight and he is not back yet. We will talk about this later when I know he is not dead.”

They do not get a chance to talk about it later, and they do not find out for a week if their baby brother is or isn’t dead.

edit: fic I wrote based off this post

[dyingdevotion]

Larry Timeline + Are H & L signaling again?

Hey, divas. It's me again. As we all know, A LOT has been happening this year and many of us have found the current situation laughable (& sad).

Four days ago, one of @watermelonlicker 's asks sent tweets pointing out Harry wearing a watch publicly for the 1st time since mid 2015. (A Cartier Tank Louis Cartier watch). @voxina corrected the original tweets stating that he has worn it prior in March (March 8th). I made a response pointing out that March 8th was when Harry went to Sabrina Carpenter's concert, where coincidentally, Zara was also attending. I used @delicateperspective 's timeline to see if the watch maybe meant something and I quickly noticed that he wore it right before shit hit the fan. You can see the post here.

In that post, I stated that if my theory was right, then more shit was gonna happen soon. And four days later, we get our first pap pics of Louis and Zara...(Surprisingly, we didn't see Louis and Zara together at Coachella, like so many of us thought was gonna happen.)

Here is a short timeline of things in April (I am using @fookinhellcurlyyy 's timeline):

April 1st: Louis likes Zara's pic on instagram. He posts a screenshot of ‘Favourite’ by Fontaines D.C. on his story. He then posts a pic of his guitar with doodles on it. He proceeds to delete the image from his story.

April 2nd: The Sun publishes “LOTTA HISTORY Inside Louis Tomlinson’s unbreakable bond with woman who has supported him through unthinkable tragedy – & it’s not Zara." (What a headline lmao.) Briana unfollowed L on Instagram. (She unfollowed Louis 2 days after the article about her and Freddie released with pap pics of them both.)

April 3rd: Louis is active on twitter and responds to several fans. We noticed him tweeting "Always" and "You" in his replies to fans. We also found his comment about soccer aid odd. (“Need alllllll the support I can get though.”) His “English fry up — extra hash browns” tweet reminding Larries of Keep Driving (song by our beloved Harry). He also responds to a fan with “keep driving” in their username.

April 7th: Article written about Harry “feeling the sting” since Taylor Russell is with Michael B. Jordan. (Once again reminding us of his past stunts. In March, we had articles about Olivia and Taylor Swift. There was also that one article reminding us of 1D’s past relationships).

April 9th: Louis goes to Stereophonic’s show in LA. The song in the video is called “Maybe Tomorrow.” It includes the lyrics “Think I’ll walk me outside and buy a rainbow smile. But be free. They’re all free. So maybe tomorrow I’ll find my way home.” (Okay, rainbow boy.) Zara also posts about the show. No actual pics of them together pop up.

April 10th: Zara posts the breakfast pic with Louis’ arm (how subtle). This picture is posted one month after Louis and Sam were announced to be participants of Soccer Aid this year. Kanye tweets about Taylor, Harry, & Justin.

April 11th: Zara with a friend at Sunglasses Hut. Coachella Week 1, Day 1. Louis looking cute. Article written about Louis’ dating history (lol). Harry wears the Cartier Tank Louis Cartier watch again.

April 12th: Coachella Week 1, Day 2. Louis looking cute again. He is seen wearing an Amiri Resort Club shirt. Amiri is part of the international and luxury fashion group OTB - Only The Brave. As we all know, Only The Brave is a very queer-coded song from Walls.

There is also an article written about Louis at Coachella and Zara being ‘miles away.’ We see the pap pics of Harry wearing the Cartier Tank Louis Cartier watch again.

April 13th: Coachella Week 1, Day 3. Louis looking cute in his multicolored outfit (I see you, rainbow boy). Zara follows a Louie on tiktok and then unfollows. (Literally why). Article about Zara looking pretty in a pink dress after “confirming romance” with Louis. (These articles are so weird lmao). Another article comes out about Louis maybe being on the phone with Zara at Coachella. Article written about Louis “ditching” Zara to party at Coachella. (That headline is hilarious to me). Another article is written about Harry experiencing “heartache” over Taylor Russell moving on. (Again, why is there so much talk about Harry and Louis’ past ‘relationships’?)

April 14th: We get a beautiful article about Louis being the "Festival Hero" at Coachella. Sam (Zara's ex) is starting a live radio breakfast show on Saturdays. More articles about Louis and Zara's "relationship."

April 15th: SCMP publishes “Who is Roxie Nafousi, the influencer who ‘manifested’ the father of her child? She was born into wealth and used to date Harry Styles, and her book has sold more than 1 million copies.” (More reminders of Harry's past "lovers." Okay.) Harry is spotted in Berlin riding a lime bike. And, of course, he's wearing blue again. We also get these leaks of Harry’s music from 2014 & 2017. (Here and here). The first one is called "If You Want To Love (2014)." I think the lyrics are: "Cause I can't contain, I can't contain your faith. If you want to love, you want to love, baby. If you want to love." The second one is called "Her (2017)" and the lyrics from the video (from what I can tell) are: "I cried cause I love you. And I, I'd do it all over. We drank too much. You started talking about her." (Ouch.)

April 16th: We get the 1st pap pics of Louis and Zara in California. (Getting these pap pics the day after those Harry leaks is crazy af.) According to the Sun, "Zara today launched her new swim and gym-wear range, Rise by Zara McDermott, for New Look." Also, LTHQ posts about a draw to win a signed 'LIVE' vinyl for War Child UK (The timing is so funny). We also get a photo dump from Louis via instagram with no caption that contains two photos with a rainbow in the back. It probably means nothing at all but I thought it was funny since we got those pap pics of Zara today.

So to put it simply: Harry wears the Cartier Tank Louis Cartier watch for the 1st time on March 8th (day he attended Sabrina's show which Zara also attended) -> The Louis and Zara stunt truly begins & articles begin to pop up reminding us of Harry and Louis' past "relationships." We get the announcement of soccer aid on the 10th of March. On the 17th of March the Louis/Zara "relationship" is confirmed with the infamous restaurant photos. -> Harry wears the watch on April 11th and we see the pap pics of him wearing it on April 12th. -> April 11th to April 13th is Coachella. We get more articles of Louis and Zara and we are again reminded of Harry and Louis' past "romances." -> Sam is announced to be hosting a live radio morning show on Saturdays. -> We are reminded of another past "relationship" of Harry's. -> We get the Harry leaks. -> Louis and Zara pap pics. Zara launching her new swim and gym-wear range. LTHQ posting about a draw to win a signed 'LIVE' vinyl for War Child UK. Louis photo dump with a rainbow in the back of 2 pictures.

(I also couldn't help but notice that we got the pap pics of Louis and Zara almost a month exactly from the pics of them at the restaurant. The restaurant pics were released March 17 and we got the pap pics today on April 16. Louis also started following Zara on February 19 (I think it was still the 18th for me when he followed her cause hldailyupdates’ post about the follow says the 18th but they captioned it "19 February 2025"). Should we expect them being pictured together once every month around the same time? I also noticed Louis liked Zara's pictures on March 1st and April 1st. Let's see if he likes another pic of hers on May 1st. If Harry wears the watch again, let's pay close attention to the things that happen right after. The watch might be a signal of big things about to come in regards to the stunt.)

That's all for now!

Here are some posts that I think are worth reading:

@twopoppies 's reply to an ask about Harry's two blue jackets potentially being "chore jackets." I think the information shared is worth a read.

@zourrystylinson 's post sharing a GQ article written about Harry's Tank Louis Cartier watch. They add a screenshot that states a watch is the modern 15th anniversary gift. Here is the post.

@fookinhellcurlyyy 's post sharing the fact that Zara is friends with someone who knows Tom Skoglund. Tom is a manager at Full Stop Management and he was present throughout HSLOT. Here is the post.

@twopoppies receiving asks that showcase Zara's pinterest boards titled "TRIP❤️" and "Glasto."

Share your thoughts in the comments or in your tags if you reblog! I'd like to hear what you guys think. <3

[potatomountain]

CIY- CH 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader 📍Summary: "Turning Point" 📍WC: 3.3k 📍AU: detective/mafia 📍Genre: action, dark themes, poly romance 📍Warning(s): 18+ rating, some angst, dark themes implied, oral (male receiving), body piercings, cum-eating, semi-public sex, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism 📍Nets: @pirateeznet | @mirohs-aurora-society 📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer , @skteezcursed and edited(usually) by the amazing: @daemour 📍dividers made by: @cafekitsune 📍AN: As a birthday gift to me (9-24) I am posting this hecka early. But also annoucing that there will not be another CIY posting until after October (most likely. who knows, i might get impatient myself) as ill be focusing on Kinktober and some fics i have planned for October! There are 6 chapters left (roughly) so please enjoy <3

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Three weeks. Three weeks had gone by and you had to admit, you missed them. Well, some of them. Wooyoung’s incessant need for you. San and his flirting- his dimples. Yeosang’s cute little lisp and the sound of him tapping away on his keyboard. Hell you even missed hearing Mingi fuck others and keeping you awake at night. You might even miss Jongho’s constant scowl in your presence.

Seonghwa had been taking you to and from the club every night, five nights a week, and would tell you to rest the other two. You wouldn’t come into the office but now you wanted to. Maybe then you could do something about this odd bundle of emotions in your stomach. Yeosang sent you instructions on how to fill out a report of your undercover work on the program he installed in your laptop, which automatically stored the vital information and categorized and compared it with the rest. So in short, now you couldn’t even tell them about the new rumors you’ve picked up at the club.

At least now you knew why they were so busy, far too busy for you. The Vipers and the Wolves were still at each other’s throat, fucking up cash grabs, stealing product, or raiding known businesses of the other. San told you he was cleared to head back to fighting soon, and it worried you that the Wolves would hit the fighting ring while he was there.

But, what could you do about it? Undercover work was something that took months to years to gain enough influence to make a difference. You were nothing more than a fly on the wall gathering information, searching for weaknesses to use against the big players. A slip up that could get them behind bars.

Once more you thought of the dead boy in the alley. Once more you pictured someone else as that dead body. And once more you realized that, as a detective, there was nothing you could do to prevent that. It was a frustrating feeling.

And that’s why you found yourself heading to the gym on your next free day, ready to punch the frustration out or work up enough of a sweat that your muscles would be screaming at you until tomorrow.

It was a nice sweet surprise to find Hongjoong there, working on one of the machines, a thin sheen of sweat coating his bare arms and calves. He was wearing a hat, black tank and black gym shorts with an airpod in as he was chatting with someone. He didn’t notice you at first, but when you got close enough to hear his conversation, you frowned at how quick he hung up when he did notice you. “I’ll call you back later.” The weights dropped as he let go of the handles to turn the call off, shifting to look up at you with a bright and charming smile despite your deepening frown. “Firecracker, lovely to see you here.”

“Cut the bullshit” you weren’t having it today. Had the three weeks away changed something? Had your observations just been wishful thinking? Why was he hiding things from you? They still didn’t trust you fully did they? Ah, that hurt. Hongjoong seemed to catch on by your tone and stance, the smile softening to something more genuinely welcoming. “It was San, he was giving me an update on the Vipers I-” “Am I not allowed to hear what you had to say?” You cut him off, still staring him down. You shouldn’t be getting so worked up, you really shouldn’t.

But Hongjoong seemed good at reading you, reaching out and holding his hand palm up. “Would it ease your mind to know what is going on? What he was telling me? Or can I ask you to trust me on this, and you can learn all about it later?” You stared at his hand for a moment, eyes running up his arm to the tattoos that covered his bicep. Briefly you glanced at the ink before meeting his eyes. “It’s a delicate matter?” You decided to ask, arms uncrossing to rest at your sides. “Yes. The war they have going on is turning into a bloodbath.” He didn’t elaborate, just smiled wider when you did take his hand finally. Gently he pulled you closer.

Relaxing a bit further, you let him. He didn’t need to explain, because you realized what he meant. The Vipers were losing everything, and the Wolves would take what they could from them. Killing, maiming, or selling off each member or even associate. “I see… what are we doing about it?” He lifted a brow at your choice of words, pulling you right between his knees and holding both of your hands. You don’t know why he insisted on this sort of touch, but you didn’t mind one bit. “Nothing we can do. We can’t pull San out safely, but there isn’t a way we can stop the Wolves either. Not without risking more. Did you come here to blow off some steam? Worried about him?” Slowly you nodded, staring at your joined hands. “I don’t want to punch anything, just not think. The Boas don’t care much for either, but I hear how ruthless the Wolves are. They’re scared of them much more than the Vipers and-” Your words were cut off as he pulled you onto his lap. “Captain?” “How do you think San can get out of this unscathed? I’m worried too, Firecracker, and even if we can’t do much, it’s better to have some hope that something can happen to save him. Right?” He was comforting you, wasn’t he? The notion had your cheeks warming, mind shifting to the question. With everything you knew, what needed to happen for San to be truly safe from the Wolves? “I… well the Vipers are no match for the Wolves alone but if they had help… then San’s chances of- well you know. The Guardians are the only ones who can stop the Wolves, but I don’t see how they would get involved. Not unless this war causes significantly more damage, or they believe it will.” Your original thought was the Guardians getting rid of the Wolves anyways. After all, the more you learned about them, the more you realized that the biggest, scariest monster out there was the Wolves. The Vipers would be easier to take down, same with the Goblins. The Golden Circle could just be bought out, most of them just greedy cowards. And the Guardians and Pirates? They cared more for regulation to an extent than chaos.

The Wolves enjoy being cruel for cruelty’s sake. Sadists, killers, men who wanted to see the world burn and wanted to be the hands responsible for it. People were toys to them. Ones they wanted to break and use any way they saw fit.

You’d rather see San with his busted lip and black eye from a fight in the ring rather than the possible torture the Wolves would put him through. “The Wolves won’t stop until every last Viper is dead or turned to them or sold. I’d rather the Vipers win, and that can't happen without the Guardians. Either working together or the Guardians step in to apply pressure to the Wolves to back them off.” Hongjoong’s sudden bright smile threw you off and you were on your feet in a second. “What?” He chuckled, just to pull you back down with enough force you tumbled into him, hands on his chest and lips suddenly on his. He swallowed up your squeak, pulling you fully onto his lap as his tongue sought yours. You hadn’t expected it, but he tasted so good that you didn’t want to pull away. Yet as soon as melted into him, he was separating your mouths. “You really are a genius, I think. That’s something we never thought of.” You blushed at his compliment, staring up at him as his fingers carded through your hair. “What ideas did you have?” “Ones that involved what the Vipers alone could do, or we as detectives. Sometimes we forget to take a step back and see all this from a different angle.” “I see… but can we really do anything like that?” He shrugged. “We could have Wooyoung or San suggest it. If the Vipers are smart, and want to survive, they’ll latch onto that idea hopefully before it’s too late.” Pride swelled through you, as well as respect. Hongjoong did respect you, to go from easing your worries, to turning your thoughts into something productive, and then backing your idea as an equal. All while he was kissing you, touching you, melting you in his arms like you were his lover.

“Captain-” “Please call me Hongjoong, or something like that outside the office. Especially when you’re in my arms like this.” He stopped you, arm tightening on your waist while his other hand massaged your scalp a bit. He chuckled at the pleased sound you made at the touch.

“H-Hongjoong… did Seonghwa- ah Hwa- tell you about…” You trailed off, eyelids getting heavy the more you relaxed in his embrace. He nodded. “S-so you know how much this means to me?” “I do, Firecracker. And he told you how things work, and his unofficial invitation?” When you nodded, his hand tightened in your hair enough to pull an unexpected moan from your lips. “I’m going to take how pliant you are in my arms as an acceptance of that if you keep this up. Wooyoung might be the most vocal about his desire for you, but I feel it just as intensely.” Your hands gripped his tank tightly, lips parted as you enjoyed the way he was getting a bit rough with your hair. Massage, then tug. Smooth then tug harder. “Then why pull me onto your lap?” “To treasure you, though I didn’t think you would let me.” He admitted, shifting you on his thighs a bit until you could feel his hard on against the side of your thigh. “Yeosang is going to get another show at this rate.” Laughing under your breath softly, you shifted on his lap. “Good. I’m not too happy about him telling you all about San and Chan. He likes to watch and then run his mouth to you all? I should show him what he’s going to miss because he’s always hiding behind those screens.” Detaching yourself from Hongjoong, you stood back up between his legs, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders to card your fingers through his hair at the base of his neck, just under the cap. Latching your lips onto his to keep him from questioning you, your mind wandered to Yeosang and the expressions he made when he had been watching you and Wooyoung. Would he make those now? Better yet… What expressions would Hongjoong make?

With your lips still attached, brushing over his soft ones, letting him chase yours with each stroke, your hands ran down his chest. His shirt stuck to him with damp sweat, muscles tensing under your fingertips: first over his pecs, which had a nice curve to them, and then over his stomach. The lower they got, the more desperate his lips on yours.

The sound he made, the breathy whine as you cupped his sizable bulge in his shorts, turned you on even more. So eager to see just how far you could push him.

In a way, this was your first time initiating with them. As you slipped down onto your knees, palming at his hardening cock through the material of his shorts, you acknowledged the fact he hadn’t asked for this, or done much to make you want him: you just wanted him, and wanted to do this. Wooyoung had begged and begged. And Mingi had wanted to prove to you how much he wanted you. You just let them have the opportunity, reaping the ecstasy they gave you. And as much as you loved taking what they had to offer, you wanted to give back as well. In particular to the man before you. The man who was trying so hard not to pull your hair too much. Who was gripping the seat beneath him as his hips rolled up into your hands, pretty lips parted and swallowed from your kisses.

If Hongjoong had turned you away, or tried to block you at every turn like you had expected him to do before meeting him, you wouldn’t have this growing warmth in your heart at every thought of them. The swell of pride at your ongoing work. You wouldn’t have a confidant in San and Seonghwa. Wouldn’t have the eager lovers Wooyoung and Mingi. The witty banter of Yunho and Yeosang.

And perhaps, pressing your lips to where you could feel his tip twitching beneath the material, you wanted to convince them that they had to have you, just as you had to have them.

Selfish, greedy, maybe a little manipulative: that’s what you thought of yourself as you pulled his shorts down enough to expose his cock, staring up at him with a question in your eyes. 

Maybe you were all those things, but it was worth it as he tightened his hold on your strands significantly and pulled you against his cock, smearing the bit of precum and sweat on your lips and cheek, pleading with you. “Take what you want, gorgeous, I’m yours to use.”

How could you deny him- deny yourself- when he looked so delectable like this? 

Taking the invitation for what it was, your tongue ran up his length as your hands worked his pants down further. His words rang in your head, the adoration mixed with lust in his expression adding to the pit of emotions coursing through you.

With your lips wrapping around his tip, eyes focused on his expression, you marveled at the warm metal now clicking against your teeth. Quickly you pulled away and glanced down, breath hitching at the metal bar on the underside of his tip, right through the soft flesh in between the twi curves of his hood. “Oh fuck-” Mingi and him? Different places but you could remember how the piercing felt… if you took Hongjoong inside, you’d feel the metal scraping against your walls and the thought had you dripping in your underwear.

Wanting him to want that just as much, you took him back in your mouth, humming as you quickly took as much of him as you could. His eyes rolled back momentarily, breath hitching and fingers curling in your hair. He could fuck your mouth right now and you’d let him.

You’d let him do a lot of things if he continued to let out sweet whines like the one that just fell from his pretty lips. He wasn’t small, but definitely not Mingi’s size. But Hongjoong never needed size to get his point across, or for you to notice him- there was much more about him and the man utilized that to command a room and gain a grip on anyone he wished. 

Right now you were the one in his grip, both figuratively and literally, as you pushed his shorts down and spread his thighs wider. Shuffling a bit closer, you took more of him in, humming around his cock once more as it hit the back of your throat, nose so close to his pelvis, but you managed. The sweat didn’t bother you, neither did the feel of the hard floor under your knees, not when he seemed to be unraveling at your touch. You were enjoying him so much you swore you could suck him off for hours without a reprieve. So what if your throat was sore? If you were tasting his cum and sweat for hours after with every drink and food you devoured? Pressing your tongue up as you pulled off his length, sure to add even more pressure to the piercing and was rewarded with a whiny moan as his body reacted: hips bucking and hand tightening in your hair to hold you still.

Oh so it made him sensitive?

Bobbing your head back down, taking as much of his length as you felt comfortable with, you focused more attention on his tip. Every time you pulled away you added pressure, letting your teeth scrape against it or twisting your head just enough as you pushed back down.

Hongjoong was noisy, between high pitched pants, to low curses under his breath, his fingers in your hair a give away to what he liked best. You used that to your advantage, nails digging into the inside of his thighs when you realized he liked that.

“Ah- fuck- gorgeous- Gunna make me- mmm fuck fuck~” His head kept rolling back but he would push forward to watch you as much as he could, mouth hanging open, teeth clenching in little hisses of pleasure. You hummed and moaned around his cock, picking up pace and pressure as your own need was clouding your thoughts. Have him cum first then maybe you could convince him to fuck you in the showers.

Your nails dug into his thighs more when he started pushing you, just slightly as if guiding, down on his cock. His head rolled back again, moans gaining volume as your name and praise joined the sweet sounds.

In awe of him you nearly choked when his thick cum hit the back of your throat in spurts. You pushed away a bit, lips still latched onto his twitching tip as he emptied his pretty balls on your tongue.

He lifted his head once he was spent, panting heavily and meeting your gaze. He slipped out of your mouth with a loud pop, your tongue lolling out to show the bit of cum still pooled there before you made a show of swallowing it.

“Fuck, Firecracker… I didn’t expect you to do this.” He smoothed out your hair, your scalp a little sensitive from how hard his grip had been.

Smiling, you rested your head on the inside of his knee, smoothing over the crescent marks you had made with your nails and admiring the piercing on his softening cock. “I wanted to. Wanted to show I want you too. I know I wasn’t as… vocal about it. Maybe with work but not in this way.” You tilted your head to look up at him, licking your lips and still tasting him on them. “If you have time… would the showers be private enough? I think Yeosang got enough of a show.” He chuckled, pushing the hair out of your face before gently tapping your cheek. “I should. Stand up for me?” 

Once you did you watched as he pulled up his underwear and shorts. Now you had a moment to admire the work on his arm, you liked learning about them and most people got tattoos that represented a part of them. Plus, tattoos were big in the underworld, often a way to show your rank or who you belonged to.

You noted a few portraits, black rimmed hats and masks, the eyes sharp. There were eight, you counted, surrounded by waves with… with a pirate boat detailed on the upper part of his arm. 

He called your name, moving just as you took note of a few letters on his arm. Sex was no longer on your mind, your brow furrowed as your mouth fell open to speak the first question that formed instead.

But the words were overshadowed by an alarm ringing through the gym and Hongjoong cursing. “Fuck- there’s an emergency.” He quickly pecked your cheek. “Head back to your apartment and wait for a call? I’ll let you know when everything’s okay.” He started grabbing his other things, but you were in shock.

The alarm turned off once he was gone but you were still rooted in place.

From the letters you had been able to make out, two of them had been “B” and “P”, just like Mingi had. 

Were they part of the Black Pirates? Were they… the enemy?

Taglist (Capped): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse

| @philijack | @lelaleleb | @isiloiale | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames

| @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630

| @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu |  @sousydive |  @fatalt | @iwishiwasrichasfuck

| @bitchwhytho | @st4rhwa | @thesafecafe | @alextheweeb7 | @ddaeing

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

[aishnico]

so ummm... is the slash angst ready? 😶‍🌫️

#𝙎𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙃: 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦

» summary: slash finally realizes that he caught feelings for his friend with benefits. does he really think so, though?

» word count: 2k

» warnings: nsfw content [implied smut, nudity], smoking, angst with no happy ending, that one gossip girl reference, grammar issues

» a/n: i’m truly sorry for posting this after so many months, actually i was writing two more different versions of the promised angst but eventually i didn’t like them so i wrote from the start again, also the college life is pretty tiring soo ❤️‍🩹

saul hudson didn’t have many serious relationships. almost all of them ended in an unpleasing way and quickly. 

he is a guitarist from a famous rock band. his and their popularity grow more each day. they tour around the country and the world. that means he spends most of his time on roads and rehearsals. 

so why would he be in an established relationship? groupies and one-night stands were enough for him.

that was what he believed in before spending one particular night with you about a week ago, a one-night stand turned into a friend with benefits later. this situation was still unusual to him.

“i think it’s bullshit,” you commented on his thoughts about relationships while trying to light your cigarette. “you can always find some time for someone, it’s just your ass is lazy, that’s all.”

“you talk like an expert, have you ever dated someone before?” he replied, lying on your messy bed which happened during your sexual activities. he tapped your exposed waist to grab your unsmoked cigarette. you handed it to him then got up to open your balcony door for fresh air. the room was filled with the smell of sex and smoke.

“no, but don’t think about only relationships. think about your friends and family. get it now?” 

he didn’t reply as his eyes wandered on your naked back while puffing smoke, thinking of a possible nth round with you.

you felt his hungry eyes on your body while pouring him a glass of water, and putting it on top of the nightstand next to him. he muttered a “thanks”

“aren’t you tired? you have a rehearsal tomorrow. you can’t be late. i don’t wanna hear any more complaints from your annoying carrot friend.”

“pfft!” he started to laugh as water spilled from his mouth. you just huffed in annoyance as you watched your bed getting dirtier. “what i am going to do with you..?”

you decided to take a shower so you left him alone in your room. just when you turned the warm water on, you heard heavy sounds coming from outside.

you wrapped your body with a towel then rushed to the window to check what was going on. he was already standing in front of it, sighing loudly as he puffed his almost-finished cigarette.

the rain…

“why are you not closing the doors, do you want my place to be soaked?!” you frowned as closed the door of the balcony immediately.

“‘m sorry, it’s just outside looks fascinating. the dark sky, yellow street dim lights, the rain…”

a soft sigh left your mouth, and then a comfortable silence filled the room while you two were admiring the usual, crowded l.a. view. he coughed then walked to another cross of the room, looking for something. 

“what are you looking for?”

he didn’t answer as he put his jeans back on, then his belt. you walked next to him with big steps.

“you’re kidding, right? you can’t just leave the house with your sweaty shirt and leather jacket.”

“i’ll get in a cab,” he avoided eye contact while wearing his wrinkled shirt. he pushed you to the side quickly, heading to the door.

“you’ll get sick, saul. you can just stay until the rain eases or stops.”

“why do you care though?” he managed to catch your guard off. you coughed, getting in front of him to face him.

“because we’re friends, and i wouldn’t be happy if one of my friends got sick. c’mon, let’s take a shower together. maybe the rain will stop at that time.” you gently grabbed his hand, then guided him to your bathroom. he couldn’t protest, not when he was taken aback by your words.

friends…

is it a true word to describe your relationship?

could he still continue to call you a friend when you try to be good and sweet for him so he could receive the pleasure he deserves after a tiring day?

could he still continue to call you a friend when you give him the most adorable eyes and smiles both in sex and other times, when you try to be intimate with him as much as you can, when you almost shower him with all of your love, making him feel wanted for a good reason and safe?

he wasn’t used to it, he might fucked some of his girl friends a couple of times -maybe when they were drunk- but it was different with you. it wasn’t just sex,

it was an urge to build a new deep, lasting bond with the right person he has come to love.

he was ready to burn all the old pages so he could create new ones with you and fill them with new memories that deserved to be remembered even in an old age.

however, something was stopping him.

and he knew why.

“you’re a fucking pussy, that’s why.” his bandmate, izzy, muttered between a cigarette on his lips. “you’re just afraid to break up with her afterwards just like you did with other girls before.”

“i don’t know, man, i really want to try this but i don’t want her to feel alone or neglected. i don’t want to screw up things like before.” he buried his face in his hands. his dark, curly hair tickling some parts of his face.

“then call her often, write her letters i don’t know, man! just try to do something beyond yourself for once!” izzy was already done with his shit so he put out his cigarette and then left the recording room, leaving his friend behind with complicated thoughts. 

the next day he was going to ask you out.

he thought there was no point in waiting more. he’s not the most outspoken man but for once he was confident enough to spill everything. hell, he even bought a bouquet of roses for you, nothing could stop him except-

“i have a date today, let’s meet at my place tonight as usual.” was what you said before you left him standing there speechless, the bouquet falling from his hands slowly -glad that you didn’t pay attention enough to see what he bought for you just minutes ago-

where did he go wrong? was he too late? god, he wished he wasn’t too late and your date went awful. unfortunately-

“i don’t want to have sex with you anymore, saul.” you cleared your throat while puffing the smoke from your lips. suddenly, your sweaty naked body felt cold to him.

“why?” he knew the answer, yet he was asking anyway.

you tried to shift from your space but his big arms held you firmly there, even pulling to himself a little bit. “my date went well today so i'm seeing someone now. it won’t be good to continue our… sexual activities, yes.”

he didn’t answer anything, he just held you in his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. his curly messy hair tickling you a little bit. 

“it was our last time together. we can either continue to be friends or stop talking.”

“what would you prefer, though?” he asked, voice coming out in a low tone, almost like a whisper.

“i would love to still be friends with you. you’re fun and silly, i like that in you.”

he turned your body sideways so he could face you. his mouth hanging open, calloused fingers tracing on your cheek. the risky words are leaving his mouth finally. 

“can you still see me as a normal friend, even after our most intense moments together? can you still see me as a normal friend when i made you come countless times like no one before? can you still see me as a normal friend when our hands were intertwined while kissing like there was no tomorrow? can you-“

“please shut up?” you suddenly managed to free yourself from him. then got up on your legs, looking at him annoyed.

“i see, you have no intention to move on. well, so let it be. we’re not fucking or friends anymore.” just when you decided to go to the bathroom, he caught your right hand with a quick move, maybe a little bit harshly. he then slowly made you sit on the bed again, releasing your hand. 

“all of this time, i was running from the thing i’ve never managed to experience fully. i was just making excuses to not try to bond with others romantically, but you changed my whole world upside down. i don’t want to let you go, not when i really want, no, need you by my side. let’s start everything from the start, just you and me-“

“no! listen to me, you’re just confused and lying to yourself!” you shouted and interrupted him. “you, you just want everything to be under your hand and reach them whenever you want, that’s all! i can’t be your side piece forever, i don’t want to…”

“me neither! that’s what i’m saying now!” your aggression was passed to him now. “you’re not my side piece and i don’t want you to think like that. you mean much more to me.”

your eyes got filled, still not looking at his breathless face. words coming out of you like a mutter as you covered your puffy eyes with your right hand. “we can’t be together. nobody can be together with a rockstar, not forever. they always end in the most tragic way possible. i don’t want to be hurt by you, nor you hurt by me. i don’t want alcohol, drugs, and girls to get between us. answer me, can you give up on all of them?” 

“yes, i can give up on girls. i don’t want any other girl besides you in my life. you’re all i want and need.”

“what about alcohol and drugs?”

could he really give up on them? he spent too many years with them, so could he just throw them away from his life? he tried to go to rehab a couple of times already, and none of them helped. 

“i-i don’t know,” he was trembling. “but i can surely say that i’m ready to give up on them. it’s gonna be so damn difficult but for you, it worth it.”

you didn’t reply anything to him, not sure what to say. the silence was getting more uncomfortable so he continued.

“i know the distance is gonna be a major problem. i’ll be away often and i can’t spend time with you too much. maybe i can’t be with you even when you need me. but i swear, i’ll call you and write you the sappiest shit you’ve ever read as much as i can.”

he grabbed your hands, leaning his head so he could meet with your gaze. it was pointless to avoid him so you turned your head to him. he started to caress them gently. you inhaled deeply, finally opening your mouth again.

“three words. eight letters. say it and i’m yours.”

“i, i…”

why the words he wanted to say desperately aren’t leaving his mouth? just two more words, what’s stopping him? he is so damn sure of his feelings about you, he has been thinking about it for a while. then what was it?!

then he realized that he was doing it again, lying to himself. to you and himself. 

he can’t give up on girls, he is so damn horny that he can’t keep his hands to himself even when he’s away. he’ll cheat on you. 

he can’t give up on alcohol and drugs. these two have become a part of his life. he’ll go to countless rehabs and still run to them with open arms.

he won’t call you nor write letters to you. his mind will be on something else, maybe girls, maybe alcohol, maybe drugs… you won’t be in his mind when he’s at rehearsals or on tours. 

and finally, he doesn’t love you.

like you said a couple of minutes ago, he just wants everything to be under his hand and reach them whenever he wants.

“thank you,” you let your warm tears fall from your eyes. “that’s all i needed to hear.” before he could reply, you already made your way to the bathroom, shutting the door loudly and leaving him there all alone. 

[strawberrysainz]

romanticism. charles leclerc

“ being charles leclerc’s assistant was a piece of work. you loved him though. ”

charles leclerc x reader

a warning — crude language, mentions of food, alcohol consumption, semi-mature scenes.

word count: 2.8k

“Do you want a biscuit?” He pointed to the box of red, racing-themed biscuits, mouth already full with one. “Please don’t tell anyone.” He added as an afterthought, and you snorted to yourself, setting down a notebook to take a gingerbread man decorated as him.

The instagram handle for the baker was loud and proud on the box, and you took a photo of the little Charles, making a note to post it later.

Qualifying hadn’t gone very well for Charles, hence the angry biscuit-eating. He’d ended up third, but an incident in the famous tunnel of the Principality had cost him three more places. His white suit was blinding in the tiny room, and his frustrated little huffs as he flung things this way and that made you slightly on edge.

You had been scrambling to catch up with him this season; you had been dealing with a family crisis until Miami, leaving Charles with some guy as his assistant for the past races. You had thought he was decent at first, but Charles was a precise guy; if he was relying on you to keep it together at work for him, then you’d better fucking do it the way he wanted. Even you didn’t mess with Charles on a race weekend. He was so nervous or upset or he was the happiest guy in the world - it didn’t matter, you just had to be consistent, comforting and take things as they went.

You swore he could’ve kissed you when you arrived on Monday.

But here you were on Saturday, still uneasy; Monaco had always freaked you out - you didn’t believe in the curse because Charles scorned it, but a part of you had anticipated that a stroke of bad luck would always have its way here. It was nine in the evening, and the crowds were still insane. You were prepared to walk back to your apartment at this point, even if it would take you about an hour with the blocked off roads. You handed Charles his clean clothes to change into after his shower, and you were about to go home for the night -

“Do you want to have dinner with me?”

You tilted your head. You knew Charles’ new girlfriend had arrived this morning, surely he’d do something with her?

He must’ve seen the look on your face, and his unsureness- the way he couldn’t believe what he were saying- made you embarrassed.

“No, it’s alright. Get a good night’s sleep. I’ll struggle to get back to mine anyway.” You said abruptly. “Must I make you an Instagram post while you’re in the shower?”

He nodded, unlocking his phone. You immediately went into Google Drive to get some pictures as he left, when a message from Alexandra came in.

You blanched; usually, bar your forgetfulness, you put the phone on the do not disturb function so that you didn’t see what he was getting sent- but the full stops and seriousness made you guiltily keep a finger on the notification.

You’re being ridiculous. I can’t give up my job to come cheer you on. I know it’s Monaco but I thought I made it clear. I can’t make it after all, C. My job is equally as important as yours. You’ll be fine.

You inhaled sharply; she was pissed. You thought she was reasonable, but you knew how much it meant to him to have people here; he struggled in Monaco, and even if he didn’t admit it he was so anxious to please.

I’m sure she’ll have a little fuckin hug and a kiss for you. I’m not a cheerleader, that’s her job, Charles. Watch her under the podium instead. Or maybe not after all- I saw you got P6

Talk tomorrow

Your eyes widened. Was she talking about you?

You were being too nosy. You selected the pictures and put them together, locking his phone on the caption section so he’d write what he’d like. As you opened the door to leave, he was there, his eyes meeting yours; and he must’ve known that you knew something because he lowered his gaze.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said quietly, patting his arm. “Sleep well.”

There was a desperation in his tone when he asked you again to supper.

Well, how the fuck could you say no? He was clearly desperate.

“I’ll invite Joris and Lorenzo, and Arthur.” He said quickly, and you sighed; “The usual?” It was a little tapas restaurant 15 minutes away.

You closed the door then, confused, and walked away, opening your phone to call Joris for a lift.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

You were in the front seat surrounded by the familiar smell of Joris’ car; you two had become good friends- always together, waiting, working because of Charles.

You were busy typing about the gingerbread man when Joris asked you about the lack of Alex (Charles had probably been talking about her first Grand Prix together with him).

You paused. “They seem to be having some sort of rift. Not sure. Ask him.” You said shortly; you tried to stay out of his love life as much as you could. You’d liked his previous girlfriend to an extent, but the final events leading up to their breakup made it awkward for you to say goodbye. You tried desperately to be professional but at that point you were a really close friend of Charles’.

Joris nodded. You two did enjoy a paddock gossip now and again, but when it involved Charles alone you really weren’t into it.

You ended up taking longer to get to the restaurant because you made him stop at your house - you weren’t going to turn up in Ferrari gear - and showered, put new clothes on and sprinted back to his car in the drizzle.

Walking through the restaurant to your table in the corner, Joris was busy chattering on about the home GP content he was busy with; you were fiddling with your hair, your bracelets, your clothes, irritated to be there. Trying to be normal around Charles in non-work situations like he didn’t fucking employ you always stressed you out.

Not to mention he was being so awkward as of late.

You slid into the bench next to Lorenzo, giving him a warm pat on the arm as Joris sat on your other side. Charles was smiling at the sight of you - you greeted Arthur, and then him, and you were presented with some iced tea (no one drank next to Charles on a Saturday before the race).

You were lost in the conversation between Arthur and Charles (Arthur hadn’t done so well in F2 today either) when Lorenzo caught your attention.

“How are you?” You adored the way he spoke French; it was low and comfortable, in the kind of way that reminded you of a warm hug.

“Alright.” You said, giggling, and he nodded seriously. He knew about your stress - he’d never raced as intensely as his two brothers - and you’d always found him a comfort.

He was busy telling you about something - a trip with his girlfriend - when you heard the distress in Charles’ tone and turned to him. He was staring at the paella in front of him.

Joris was silent; Arthur just looked lost.

“What’s wrong?” You said quietly, and you noticed a few stubborn tears in his eyes that he was dying not to let fall.

“I’m just not feeling good about the race.” His tone was terribly melancholic, and you felt a bit frozen. “I- Cha-“

Lorenzo was stiff; you blinked.

Charles sat up straight. “It’s okay. Sorry.” His tone indicated no more talking about it, and Joris launched into a conversation about something, Arthur hurriedly joining in. You made eye contact with him sternly; we were talking about this later.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

Supper had come and gone, the bill had been paid, and you found yourself alone in Charles’ car at 10:53 pm on the way back to your apartment.

“Please come in.” You had said to him, after he refused to go home immediately to sleep; promising a cup of tea before he got home.

You had dropped your keys by the front door and entered, your cat greeting the two of you. “What’s wrong?” You said, starting the kettle with a tenderness in your tone you could never replicate with anyone else.

Charles was just sighing, complaining, choking with emotion as he spoke of his fears - dear God, he was struggling - you poured milk and sugar, biting a lip, and eventually it became too much that you brought him in for a tight hug in the light of your kitchen, a song playing in the corner.

You pulled away, and to your surprise he was looking into your eyes softly, a gentleness in his expression that freaked you out. You felt your body soften as his hand met your hip, and you knew, despite yourself, you could never refuse him.

“Cha…” you murmured, gaze on his lips. Holy shit, this was so wrong.

He let out a little sigh that had you going insane, and you turned around to fetch the tea, overwhelmed; this was the only way you could prevent whatever what was happening, not happen.

He murmured your name again, and you turned around slowly, guiltily watching his beautiful face, certain feelings you’d suffocated return just like that.

His hand met your arm, gentle pressure prompting you to put the tea down. You gasped quietly as his hand on your hip brought you together, eyes wide and wanting.

He met your lips with his, and it was like a wildfire that burned, bright and haunting, kissing you everywhere, his touch burning, thigh in between your legs, arms and hands touching you everywhere, you were gasping and he was moaning, the desire in the air thick, scary, and his facial hair tickled you in a delicious way that made you shiver, eyes lidded, dark, and suddenly he was moving to take his shirt off and you stepped back, terrified, lonely.

“Charles, you have a girlfriend.” You said lowly, hair messy. You noticed your lipstick all over his lips and face.

He looked scared of himself. “Fuck. I have to go. I need to sleep.”

“And talk to Alex.” You said, scaring yourself with the heaviness of your tone, and he was gathering his things, tea forgotten.

When he left, you waved him out, mouth wobbling, and you burst into tears after closing the door, clutching your mouth, your sobs shaking you, sinking down to the floor.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

You’d agreed to lift Joris the previous night, so you were glad to ditch seeing Charles until you really had to - an hour later, you walked into his driver’s room; he was doing some exercises with Andrea while the social media intern videoed him. You stayed out of sight of the camera, leaning against the wall, trying to distract yourself from the previous night’s events.

You were wearing more makeup than usual to hide your puffy eyes from the tears last night, determined to act as if nothing had happened. You really hated that Charles had cheated on his girlfriend with you; you could put it down to him being vulnerable, but you were at fault as much as he was.

When everyone had left, Charles was left on the couch staring sheepishly at you. You crossed your arms, an invisible ocean separating you two, you two continents.

“I told Alex.” He said calmly.

“And?”

“She said she can’t be with me if I’m not being faithful and she’s not there all the time. We’ve only been together three months. She’s not into it.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It was my fault. I made a move when I wasn’t meant to. I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”

From the way he was moaning yesterday, you weren’t sure if that was true.

“Okay.” You snort, moving to open the door. “Driver’s parade in 20 minutes. I’ll see you later?”

He nodded, waving a goodbye as you left.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

P6, like he started.

It was consistent, Joris had joked in your ear as you shook your head, trying not to laugh. He’d had a pretty good race, the team hadn’t fucked up, it was just the way it went.

He had been busy with press and much more before he ended up back with Andrea where you and Joris had been waiting for about three hours (you were also a bit drunk; you’d had too many glasses of champagne from Paddock Club).

“Hi!” You giggled, high-fiving him. “Good job.” Joris also cackled, and Charles shot you a glare. “Are you drunk?”

“No.” You said firmly, shaking your head. “I am very sober.” You said, and Joris nodded seriously. “We had a little bit of champagne.”

Andrea gestures to the bottle that was on the table beside you. “What’s that?”

“For Cha! A well done.” You beamed, and presented it to him. Charles couldn’t help but laugh. “I am going to have to drive you two back in her car, no? Put my bicycle in the back.”

You and Joris were squealing with laughter at the idea, and the two standing before you were laughing at you.

“Come, you fucking idiots.”

“No! You can’t insult me, you kiiiiissssed me,” you giggled, and Joris didn’t catch it, but Andrea did, shooting Charles a glare, who if looks could kill, would’ve shot you dead. He looked so pissed.

“Come,” he snapped, and Andrea said that he’d take Joris.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

He pulled up to your apartment. “Come in.” You said, and Charles scoffed. “Not for a long time now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You looked so vulnerable, rain falling on your head as you peered down at him. “Are you taking my car? I’ll come fetch it tomorrow.” You said softly. “Thanks for taking me. I’m sorry, I was stupid. I needed to relax for one fucking minute this week.”

Charles’ eyes softened, and he opened his mouth to say something before he closed it, nodding curtly, and drove away.

You couldn’t differentiate the raindrops from your tears, forcefully wiping them away.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

You knocked on his door at midday the next afternoon, wanting to thank him before flying to Spain. You hated the energy he’d given you since you’d kissed; it was wildly different and you loathed it.

He answered a minute or so later, glasses on and a scruffy jumper, eyes tired. “Hi,” you were out of breath all of a sudden; he was so terribly attractive.

He looked surprised to see you. “I came to say thank you. And get my keys.”

“Come in. Do you want coffee?” He said instead, and you felt a bit of déjà vu from two nights before, hauntingly familiar.

You loved his apartment. The red and white was a colour scheme you adored, and you sat on the sofa while he made you a coffee, one spoon of sugar and a splash of milk just how you liked.

“I want to say sorry for how weird I was this week. I just hate the Grand Prix in Monaco, you know?” You said hurriedly, and he set down the coffee, sitting down next to you. He laughed. “I know. I know.” It had been this way since 2021- when you had started working for him- and he kept having shit races here.

He held out his hand. You squeezed it. “Let’s move on from it.”

He smirked. “Am I such a bad kisser?”

Your jaw dropped, throwing your head back laughing. “Cha!”

He was dead serious. “Why do you want to move on?”

“I work for you?” You said, disbelievingly, and his mouth twitched. “Charles, come on.”

He picked up the mug and took a sip.

You quite literally wanted to die.

He set it down again, looking seriously at you. “I don’t regret the kiss, if you want to know.”

You stare at him. “It literally broke you and your girlfriend up.”

“I like you.” He shrugged. “More than her. More than I thought.”

You laugh, bringing the coffee to your lips. “And when I saw your lipstick on my face…” he trailed off, blushing, “Fuck.”

You swear you were as red as a mother fucking tomato at this point.

“Slow down.” You retorted, trying not to spit the coffee out.

“Kiss me.”

You stare at him again. Was he fucking delusional?

“What?” You hiss.

He rolls his eyes and kisses you.

You’re pulled onto his lap, breath gone, kissing him as hard as you can. Your head is thrown back as he goes for your neck, and the sounds he’s making make you moan.

“You’re really hot with glasses on,” you tell him, and he falters, giggling, before carrying on.

This time you let him take his shirt off, matching him.

You fall back onto the couch. Those eyes on yours, the eyes of your beautiful boy.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

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[iwantmyprizepet]

𝒱𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓈𝒽 ℐ𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝒴𝑜𝓊 - 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 3/?

Summary: Agatha was becoming a problem. A big all encompassing gorgeous problem. (I fucking hate writing these)

Warnings: Alcohol Consumption.

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: I meant for this to come out so much sooner than this. Life has been a thorn in the side the past couple of weeks, but hopefully back to regular posting. I hope someone out there is still interested in my silly little story. To any who see this I hope you’re doing well. - Mich :)

AO3 Previous Part Next Part Chapter Playlist

Monday creeped along in a dragging way. I busied myself for a while with tedious tasks. Cleaning the house, grocery shopping and any other boring chore I could come up with. All to divert my mind from her. 

That damn note in my desk pulled me to the drawer like a tide over and over. 

Night finally drew in and I ran a bath.

I released a long sigh slipping into the warm water with a healthy helping of red wine. Each sip of my glass seemed to press her into my mind more and more. 

I didn’t stay in long. 

I climbed into bed after the bath. It was only eight o’clock, but all I could think about was getting to see her. A mix of excitement and guilt. 

It felt wrong thinking about her this much, almost intrusive. A hint of doubt ebbed it’s way in, maybe I wouldn’t even see her tomorrow. 

Sleep was a tossing endless thing. I ended up in the cafe far earlier than I had in a while. Just sitting, sipping a coffee and waiting in the dark early morning.

The pastry delivery came and I placed every last sweet meticulously. Perfectly lined up ready for a picture in a magazine. 

It was a relief turning the open sign on. Chloe and Janice were a well needed distraction along with the customers. The day creeped into a slow Tuesday.  Thanksgiving was this Thursday, so it wasn’t surprising how dreadful the day was. It was either dead or insane on the week of a holiday.

When two thirty rolled around I let Janice and Chloe leave. If a straggler or two came in the last hour and a half, I could handle it. 

With a smirking remark from Chloe as she walked out hoping I’d see Agatha today, I was left to my thoughts again. 

At this point of the day, I’d pretty much given up hope on seeing her.

I’d just finished organizing the stock room. The plan was to organize and take inventory, but…I got lazy. I ran out of the brains for it at this point of the day. With less than an hour to go, it could wait until tomorrow. I felt bogged down and I knew I’d fuck something up if I did it now.

Walking back to the front I hummed along to the Jim Croce song quietly playing through the speakers. I looked up and my shoes squeaked loudly to a stop.  

There at the counter waiting with a smile stood Agatha. 

My face felt hot having got caught carelessly humming along. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how I missed the bell.” I jumbled out stepping closer to her. “Hi.”

Her smile grew before she spoke. “I don’t believe it made a sound actually.” Both of our eyes traveled to the bell above the door, then she looked back to me. “I figure I’d let you finish your song before I bothered you.” 

She finished her remark with a teasing wink. I forced a laugh and walked fully to the counter. 

The two feet of the counter, the only thing separating us. Another sweeping glance to the door shown the bell was stuck at the top again. I made a mental note to fix it later.

“The usual.” She said eyes observing me widely. “For here.”

I nodded waiting for my brain to catch up with my mouth. My heart ticked up when she said it was for here.

“Of course, have a seat I’ll bring it to you.”

She turned with a nod and seemed to observe the layout. As if choosing her seat was a very important decision. 

Turning my back to her, I grabbed a green mug with our logo on it. I poured her black coffee and turned to find her in the farthest corner. Her gaze cast out the window to her left, chin resting on her hand. I tried to ignore that she chose the farthest seat. Ignored the part of me that wished she would have sat right at the counter. 

Walking over quietly, I watched as her left leg crossed over the right bobbing slowly. I could have stopped and stared at her for a long while. Her head shifted to me, still smiling with her chin on her hand. Every time she looked at me, a rush zipped through me.

I placed the mug in front of her, careful not to spill under her fixed gaze. 

“Thank you.” It rolled off of her tongue so gently. “Of course.” I replied almost breathless.

Every second near her left me feeling more and more screwed. I started back to the counter when her easy voice stopped me.

“Busy?”

I glanced back to her waiting expectantly.

With a laugh I turned back. “It’s been dreadfully slow today actually.”

With almost no hesitation she asked. “Care to sit with me?” 

She almost left an ounce of nervousness at the end of the question. Like maybe she thought I’d somehow deny the request.

If it was there, it disappeared before I could fully place it. Replaced by the familiar confidence she oozed. 

Nodding, I moved back over and sat across from her at the two seat diner table.

Smiling she took a sip of her coffee, bringing it up to her mouth carefully with both hands. I had to remind myself it wasn’t normal to stare at a persons hands for that long. 

Her coat was draped over the back of the chair now. She wore a purple turtleneck, sleeves pushed halfway up her forearms. Setting her mug down, she brushed the left side of her hair behind her shoulder. Her perfume settled over to me in gust from the air it created. 

I let myself lean back fully in the chair, legs stretching out to the side of the table. A tired I hadn’t even recognized began to blanket over me.

 Despite it being slow, I was like a constant motion all day. I couldn’t relax for a second. Not to mention the lack of sleep I had last night. Thanks to the woman sat directly across from me now. 

“Did you get my note?” She asked taking another sip.

“Yes.” A bashfulness washed over me. Clearing my throat I continued. “Of all times to have milk spilled on me.”

I rolled my eyes trying to stay calm. Realizing the sentence I just said snuck the truth to her. I was disappointed in the timing. 

“Is that an often occurrence for you?” She asked teasingly over her mug.

I laughed eyes closed tilting my head back. “Fortunately no.” I looked back to her, eyelids feeling heavy from the day.

An easy pause hung between us as a mellow song played over the room.

“I see you’ll be closed a couple of days for the holiday?” Agatha asked breaking the quiet.

I’d put a sign up Monday announcing our Thanksgiving week schedule.

I nodded “Yeah, I’ll be with my parents, Chloe the same and Janice hosts her family. Anne and I, the owner figure everyone will survive two days without us.”

“Debatable.” She answered quickly. 

My mouth minutely hung open at her words, breath catching. 

“The coffee that is.” She continued a pinching smirk on her face as she held up her mug. “It’s unmatched.”

I nodded after a few seconds, eyes locked with hers. Stupid, crooked and dazed smile on the corner of my mouth. 

The door slamming open startled the both of us with a jump. The force of it knocked the bell back down.

Dennis.

“Now, I know you’ll be closing soon, but this car out front has been parked incorrectly for far too long.” Dennis wagged his finger approaching me as I stood.

“Dennis, what are you on about?” I asked the exhaustion evident with my words as I stood.

“This black car out front is parked against the flow of traffic. It is not only against the law, but very dangerous. I’ve held my tongue long enough. It needs to be moved.” He finished his annoyingly punctual statement with both hands on his hips. 

I let out a sigh with closed eyes pinching the bridge of my nose, my other hand on my own hip. I had a suspicion the car he was referring to was in fact Agatha’s. 

“You have to be kidding me. Dennis it’s almost the end of the day, the week of a holiday. She’s been here for ten minutes. Are you really coming to cause a stir over this?” I asked with a clear annoyance.

“The law is the law, whether you like it or not. As the head of the town hall committee, I must see the law is being met.” He lashed out smug with his chest puffed out. 

With a sharp scrape of her metal chair leg against the floor, Agatha stood turning to Dennis. Casual confidence poured out, hands in her pants pockets relaxed with a calm irritation on her face. 

“Dennis was it?” She asked with a low sharpness, similar to the phone call the day I met her. “Agatha Harkness. I don’t believe we’ve officially met before.”

Harkness. Agatha Harkness.

His jaw dropped “Oh, Miss Harkness I didn’t realize.”

Dennis proceeded to stare at her speechless. Something I have never seen in all the years of knowing him. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her as she fixed on him with a casual distaste.

“Now, I can understand your urge to adhere to the law. Not that I’m sure how it would effect you if I received a ticket for my incorrect parking.” Taking a breath she stepped closer causing him to backup. “So, while I understand my parking is a minor problem. I’m not sure what has driven you to barge in here and treat her the way you just have over such a silly thing that she is certainly not to blame for.”

She stopped, holding a silence for him to respond. Dennis just stood staring at her speechless going red in the face. The words came out of her with such a direct ease. Like it was a practiced speech. 

She made a humming noise and continued amongst his silence. “I’ll go ahead and make sure I park correctly form now on, as long as you carry around a little more respect.” 

It wasn’t a question. It was a command. His still lack of response earned an expecting sharp head tilt from her.

“Yes, well of course. Ladies, enjoy your evening.” Dennis blurted out quickly turning on his heel to leave. 

My eyes couldn’t hold back tracing her stance. She turned to me suddenly and my eyes shot to hers trying to hide the traveling they were up to. Her face had changed to a soft smile for me, a hint of pride behind it.

“I’ve never, and I mean never have I seen anyone put that man in his place.” I said with a disbelieving laugh. 

She shrugged smirking and stepping closer to me. “I made a rather large donation to the committee last year. I assumed he’d recognize the name.” Confidence was still dripping off of her. 

I wanted to reach out and touch her in the most innocent way. Hold my hand over hers, just to see what it felt like. Walk her out to her car arm in hers. Reach in for a hug. 

Her full name passed my thoughts again as I took her in. Agatha Harkness. Clearing my throat I looked down breaking my eyes from hers.

“Well, thank you.” I looked back up as she stepped just an inch closer. “I’d already had to deal with his nonsense on Sunday. I appreciate him being cut short today.” 

“Anytime, you just let me know.” 

A buzzing against the table earned attention from both of us. Agatha’s phone lay lit up with a call. 

Adam Pontes shown on the screen against a plain black background. Her long fingers reached for the phone pressing accept. My brain absorbed her ringless finger. Not that it mattered.

“Hey, Adam. Yes.” She looked to me with a smile. Her right hand still in her pocket. “Listen, Adam.” Her face fell, eyebrows pinching into an anger. “I told him there was no way that was going to happen.” 

Agatha turned away from me now facing the table. Feeling intrusive I turned myself and started to stack the chairs on the nearest table. 

It was only ten minutes to four now. 

“Adam, I will call you back in five minutes. We’ll call him together and figure it out. Okay. Yes. Bye.”

I busied myself still with the chairs after she hung up.

“Sorry about that.” I turned back to her as she spoke, annoyance still tinging her words. “My assistant, Adam seems to always find a way to bother me at the most unnecessary times for the most unnecessary things.” Each word emphasized with a hand twitch or wave.

I felt myself relax a tension I didn’t realizing I was holding at the word assistant.

“No worries.” I replied easily stepping back over to her.

She lent over to the chair she was sat at to grab her coat. A warm wave of her scent pushed towards me wrapping me up again as she pulled it on with a tug. 

My right foot crept forward just an inch. Images of slipping my arms under the coat, around her waist and pulling her in for a hug swept through my mind. 

After her hands reached up to untuck her hair from the coat, she leant over for her purse. 

“The coffee is on the house today, please.” It rushed out of my mouth almost begging with my hands held up.

She turned to me grinning then let out a loud laugh. My eyes lit up at the sight tugging out a smile and laugh of my own. 

She slipped her purse on up to her shoulder fixing me a troubling gaze. Troubling as in I couldn’t read all that was behind it. All I know is it felt like she could see into my every thought, smirking as she did.

“I’ll be sure to stop in tomorrow.” Her head turned to the coffee then back to me. “Get one last fix before the holiday.”

My lungs felt full with stuck air. “Okay.” It was a pathetic small response from me. I couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

Her head dipped down with a smile, hand reaching up to tuck the hair that fell behind her ear.

“I hope you have a nice night.” Agatha looked up to me as she slowly started to back up towards the door.

“You too. Good luck with Adam.” I responded knowing it sounded stupid as it came out of my mouth. 

I was desperate to continue our exchange. Grasping for anything to say to get just a second longer with her.

Another laugh sounded from her. “Oh I don’t need luck for that. Maybe an aspirin.” 

I laughed now too, unconsciously following her to the door. It felt impossible not to laugh along with her.

She paused with her shoulder pressed to the glass door, hand laying gently on the handle captivating me as it did.

“See you tomorrow?” It came from her like a question.

As if I’d be doing anything but pacing and waiting for her arrival tomorrow.

“I’ll be here.” I replied tucking my hands into my jeans pockets. 

“Good.” 

“Safe travels home.” Again, the words left my mouth leaving me feeling foolish.

Assuming she was even heading home. I shook my head minutely scolding myself for how stupid it sounded.

“You too.” She replied a smirking glint in her eye. 

I laughed nodding my head. “Yeah, it’s quite the trek.” 

Another soft humming noise sounded from her as she eyed me. 

“Goodnight.” She pushed open the door as she said it. 

The cold air rushed in as if just to blow her perfume to me one last time. 

“Night.”

“Oh.” She paused turning back. “Don’t be too cross with the tip jar.” 

With a wink she left, wind shutting the door harshly behind her. It took a minute for my brain to catch up with her words. When it did, I quickly shot my eyes back to the tip jar. 

I’m not sure how I missed it before, she was the only customer after Chloe and Janice left. We split the jar right before they did.

There in the jar that should have been empty, lay a neatly folded fifty. As if she prepared for me protesting her paying for the coffee. Expected it and slipped it in as I stood distracted in the storage room. 

My head flung to her car just catching her head turning away from me. She pulled away and I stared after her shrinking tail lights. 

Tomorrow I would make sure she wouldn’t pay. I simply wouldn’t allow it.

After finishing the closing ritual, I slumped up the stairs. 

I replayed every second with her throughout the night. A special focus lingered on her full name.

Sleep came easier tonight, but still Agatha Harkness remained the last thought on my mind. 

——————————————————————————

A call from my mom and dad passed the morning easily until open. Confirming what we were making for tomorrow and what time I’d get there. 

I hadn’t seen them in over a month. After the first cold snap they flew off to Florida. I’d missed them more than I realized.

It was always nice when they’d first leave for their Florida condo. The distance between my mom’s worrying intensity about my life always did me some good.

When I first came out to them, things were rocky for a bit. My dad took it easily. My mom on the other hand took time. She hadn’t flat out cut me off. It was just constantly tense when we’d talk or see each other. My dad consistently assured me she didn’t hate me, but it was hard.

After finding my ex under that douche bag, I drove home instantly. I barely choked out the reason for my tears when I got home. It changed instantly then, she held me for hours.

There was never a problem with my sexuality after that. She’d actually ended a few friendships over it. 

My mom just had this way of being in a constant state of concern for me. Worried I’d be single forever. Worried that I was too lonely and never put myself out there. She meant well, but….yeah.

——————————————————————————

The day started swinging, a constant flow of customers coming in. 

During a lull, I found Chloe eyeing me expectantly. I knew it would come up at some point. She had rolled in late today and couldn’t bother me until now.

“So.” She dragged out arms crossed. “Did you see her yesterday?”

I nodded, trying but failing to hide a smile. 

“Janice, we’ve got a blusher!” Chloe called out through the window. 

I threw the nearest towel at her hushing her. Her announcement earned a few questioning looks. I shook my head as they both laughed.

“Well?” Chloe asked clearly expecting details.

“Well, nothing.” I started tapping my pointer finger repeatedly on the counter. “She stopped in, we sat and talked for a bit that’s it.”

Rolling her eyes she scoffed. “That’s all I get? I’m your best friend and thats all I get?” 

I laughed “Actually, she did scold Dennis.” I laughed again at the memory. “No, she actually fully put him in is his place.”

Chloe made an oohing sound. “Do tell.” 

“He came in yelling about someone being parked against the flow of traffic, against the law blah blah, head of the town committee blah blah. Well the parked car was hers, she stood up and greeted him with her full name, dude, his face dropped.” I laughed remembering it, Chloe’s face shifted to shocked amusement. “Turns out she wrote a hefty donation check to the committee last year. Needless to say, he left fumbling and red in the face. It was a sight to behold.”

“I would actually give anything to have been a fly on the wall for that.” Chloe said through a laugh.

“Me as well.” Janice sounded through the window. “That man sends an anger through me.”

She held up her first at the end, all three of us erupting in laughter.

——————————————————————————

Business slowed gradually again today. You could hear a pin drop on the street. Sally even popped in complaining about how bored she was. 

The only movement of the afternoon was the boats docking across the street. I felt an eager excitement shoot through me every time Agatha crossed my mind.

“You guys can head out early again. Seems like it’ll be another dull afternoon.” I said to Janice and Chloe. 

The three of us had been sat at a table for the past hour with but one customer. Still, I tried to sound as casual about dismissing them as possible. Leaning back with my arms crossed totally nonchalant.

“She’s just trying to get rid of us before Agatha shows up.” Chloe teased wiggling her eyebrows at me. 

“Yes, I think so.” Janice replied nodding with an annoying smirk on her face.

Rolling my eyes I nudged my foot into Chloe’s leg. “Shut it and take my generosity.”

To be fair, she wasn’t incorrect. If Agatha did show up, I certainly would rather it be without the troublesome two around. 

“I have so much to cook.” Janice said standing up. “Gladly, I will leave.”

“Hey, you have a great Thanksgiving. Your check is on the board in the back.” I said leaning back watching her head to the kitchen.

“You too, I will see you both Saturday.” With a wave she pushed through the kitchen door.

Chloe called out a goodbye as well as she groaned standing up. “I still have to go to the damn store.” 

I laughed shaking my head at her. “Same, I only have a few things to grab but I am dreading it.”

“Do we hate ourselves? Why do we wait?” Chloe asked throwing her head back dramatically.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Alright, well” She scooted her chair in walking towards the back. “I hope your dear Agatha doesn’t keep you waiting for too long.” I sighed shaking my head. “Get out of here would ya?” 

Chloe laughed walking through the push door. 

“Tell your parents I said hi. Have a good Thanksgiving grumpy.” She yelled out from the back. 

“You too. Let me know how crazy the store is.” I called back.

With a final agreement and goodbye, Chloe was gone. 

So there I found myself close to an hour before closing again, waiting for the blue eyed beauty to grace me with her presence. 

I groaned getting up, the inventory list still awaited me. With a quick check of the front door, to make sure the bell was ringing loudly today, I walked into the storage room. 

The list went by quicker than usual. I usually tried to squeeze it in throughout a work day. I was just finishing with the last thing, our decaf coffee when the bell rung out.

“Just a second.” I called from the back. 

“Take your time.” Agatha’s now familiar voice sounded.

With the final count, I took a shaky breath and headed out front. 

She stood, eyes trained to where my voice came from waiting. Hands that always seemed to be flitting about resting on the counter.

“Hi.” I said softly placing the clipboard on the back counter. 

“Hello.” 

The usual waviness of her hair hung straight today, sleek and shiny. My mind instantly sunk into thoughts about what it would be like to run my hands through it. 

“For here.” She said smiling and sitting on a stool at the counter. “Add a sugar to it today, I’m feeling wild.”

I laughed nodding my head. Turning, I grabbed a mug then quickly shot my eyes back over to her. She was waiting and watching stopping me in my tracks for a second. The idea of her watching as I poured her coffee held a weight on me. 

“No money today.” I rushed out forcefully.

Her smile grew, blue eyes glinting with a mischief. 

“I’m serious.” I said turning back to her coffee. I tried to hold as stern a tone as I could. “If I find even a quarter in that jar, or anywhere for that matter from you I’ll.” I paused mid pour trying to think of something good, shaking my head I continued. “Well I’m not sure what I’ll do, but it’ll be well…I don’t know.” 

Every word had me internally face palming. I felt exasperated by the end of my spiel. A running theme whenever I found myself in her presence. 

After stirring the sugar in I turned back to her. She seemed to be holding in a laugh watching me. The corner of her bottom lip lay tucked under her top teeth. I moved my eyes away from it as quickly as possible, hoping she didn’t notice. 

“Seriously this ones on me, please.” The end of it felt like begging.

Her lip popped out from her teeth, lips forming into a purse with those blue eyes squinting. 

“As tempting as it is to see what you’d come up with if I did.” She let it linger in the air before finishing. “I promise, no money today.”

I swallowed hard at her words. It felt like a battle in my head fighting off thoughts of what I could do to her in retaliation. Things that seem much too much for acquaintances over coffee. I felt a slight fear layered over me as she watched me. Her eyes felt as if they’d be able to read my mind. The thought of it sent a chill up my spine. 

“Join me?” She asked, her hand tapping the stool next to her as she took a sip of coffee.

I nodded with a hesitation, my feet seemed to move on their own rounding the counter. She turned then, back against the counter eyes roaming out the front windows.

I sat slowly next to her thoroughly ignoring the little space between us. 

“This view really is something.” She said after a comfortable moment of silence.

“Yeah, I’ve never found myself tiring of it.” I admitted looking on with her.

Golden hour had just begun to dust over the water. The perfect time of day to look out here, apart from sunrise and nights that held a full moon. 

“I bet it’s even better from your apartment.” She cast it into the air around us with ease.

I felt my throat dry at her words. The idea of her in my apartment watching the sunset. Her in my apartment watching the sunrise.

“The roof.” I blurted out too loudly. My cheeks warmed as she looked at me with that damn smirk. “The roof is the best.” I said turning away from her willing my face to cool. “I find myself up there all the time in the summer.”

I could still feel her looking at me. I chanced a side glance that made my heart flutter with how I found her. My leg started bouncing on the stool leg nervously.

“Well, hopefully I’ll get an invite some day.” She said in a playful way after a sip of her coffee.

I turned to her again with a nod. “Absolutely.” 

A charged silence fell over us. Charged for me, maybe just casual for her.

 “Exceptional parking today.” I joked gesturing to her car out front. Anything to move on and pull myself from the spiral of thinking about her in my apartment.

She laughed tilting her head back, her neck flexing in the fading sun. “Well, I am exceptional.” She replied with that dripping confidence. 

I thought to myself, staring at her with a dumbfounded smile, yes you are.

Her eyes settled on mine and I felt like I was drowning.

Loud laughter outside broke our eyes apart. Two local boys, Teddy and Ben came into view through the window. The two of them parked their bikes on the curb. 

Every week or two, they’d show up with an assortment of coins and small bills looking for sweets.

I leaned my elbow back on the counter as they walked in. They both collected their laughter after walking in, throwing out a greeting in unison.

“Hello boys.” I smiled to them. “The usuals?”

Teddy was obsessed with danish, any danish really. Ben, I think he would sell his soul for snickerdoodle cookies.

Teddy was already fumbling coins in his jacket pocket as Ben clung to a few bills in his hand.

“We gotta count first.” Ben replied walking over to the register next to Agatha.

“I’ll tell you what.” I said rising from my seat walking back behind the counter. “You guys keep your money for something else. It’s on the house today.” 

I knew we’d never sell all these pastries today. I’d bring most to Thanksgiving tomorrow, but even then some would go to waste.

“Teddy, don’t I always says she’s the best?” Ben asked, schmoozing as if I hadn’t already offered up the pastries. 

I snorted out a laugh shaking my head. 

“Alright, take it easy kid.” I said playfully folding a small pastry box together.

I made sure to put several of their favorites in the box, along with a few other things. I felt Agatha eyeing me as I did so. The two boys stood joking amongst themselves.

“There you go guys.” I said closing the box and sliding it over. I glanced at Agatha. Her eyes were on me, expression soft. “Don’t forget to share with your family. Have a good Thanksgiving.” 

“Thank you.” Teddy said quietly. 

He was always the bashful one. Ben held enough exuberance for the both of them.

“The best I say.” Ben shouted grabbing the box and running out.

Teddy followed stumbling calling for Ben to wait. 

I chuckled at the two and closed the case. Leaning my elbows across the counter, I rested my chin in my hands.

Agatha shot me with a playful look.

“To think, the amount of times I’ve been in and I haven’t been offered a sweet treat yet.” She said holding her hand to her chest, mockingly appalled with a gasp.

I laughed standing up straight. Sliding the case back open I looked to her.

“Well, they do have you beat in visits” I teased looking up at her. “But…come and help yourself. You can have anything you want.” A curious hum sounded from her throat before she stood, making her way back. Her right hand dragged its way down the counter the whole way, fingers tapping a rhythm.

I felt my breathing take on an unsteadiness as she crept closer. I inched to the side a little farther leaning on the counter, out of the way of the pastry case door. 

When she finally approached me, she stood so close I could feel the warmth radiating off of her. Her hand leaned on the counter just shy of my arm. I could feel the ghost of her whole right side on my back and down my arm. 

“Decisions, decisions.” She said low and slow, close enough to my ear that I just barely felt a trace of it. 

My body wanted to lean back into her with the force of a tidal wave. It was almost draining fighting the urge. All I could do was stand still and focus on my choppy breaths.

“What do you recommend?” She questioned in a near whisper.

She seemed closer than she was just a second ago.

“Uhm.” I cleared my throat. “I’m partial to the…dark chocolate cookies.” 

It amazed me that I got the sentence out. The warmth and scent coming off her felt dizzying. I could feel her eyes on me, but refused to look back. 

It felt like an eternity passed after I spoke. I feared she’d hear my heart racing over the music softly playing. 

Her hand stayed on the counter as she leaned forward. Pressing into my back, her hand touching the bare skin of my arm. I couldn’t get any oxygen in, hands white knuckling the side of the counter. 

Her hand reached out for a cookie. My body betrayed everything I was screaming in my head not to do and ever so lightly push back into her touch. It felt like I moved back less than an inch, but still she froze at it. Hand hanging in the air just shy of picking up a cookie. 

My eyes looked to her in my peripheral. She was looking at me, face serious and eyes wandering. 

She pushed further, her hand continuing its movement. Every nerve felt like a live wire in my body. Her fingers grabbed a cookie and she pulled back slowly. The only touch that remained was her hand against my arm on the counter. The time and air around us felt like jello.

The phone on the back wall ringing startled me with a jump. My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my throat. I could’ve sworn her thumb brushed against my arm right as I made my way to the phone.

It was almost a relief getting a distraction away from the supercharged moment.

“Fairfield cafe, how can I help you?” I asked absently, still in a daze. 

“Yes, I was wondering what your hours were for the rest of the week?” The deep voice asked on the line.

“Uhm, yeah.” I paused a moment collecting myself. “We close at four today, we’ll be closed  tomorrow and Friday. Saturday and Sunday we’ll be open seven to five.”

“Great, thank you.” The voice replied.

“Of course, have a good night.” I said into the receiver.

“You too, have a happy holiday.” The line hung up before I could reply.

I secured the phone back on the receiver slowly. My hands held a shake to them still from the encounter with Agatha. 

I turned to find the case closed and Agatha back on her stool. The top of her cheekbones held a light dusting of red. She was looking down at her coffee, hands playing with the mug. It was rather warm in here I convinced myself as I watched her.

I started to walk back as she held her head up to look at me.

“You’d think nobody knew how to use google with how many calls I get about hours.” I said trying to lighten the atmosphere. 

She nodded with a soft smile, eyes seeming distant but looking at me.

Now that she’d touched me I felt like it was all I could think about. I’d thought about it before, but now it was consuming. 

Raising the cookie to her mouth, she took a bite. Her head hung back, neck stretching out as she chewed. The noise she let out sent a feeling low into my gut. I felt my hands clinging to the counter hard again. I couldn’t do anything but watch her, mouth just barely open watching her. 

“You have good taste, excellent recommendation.” She said casually as if she hadn’t just altered my brain.

I let out a soft sigh and nodded at her. I don’t know how, but I had to reel it in. I looked to the clock, fifteen minutes until closing. 

I was desperate for four o’clock, but also never wanted it to strike.

She took another bite, eyeing me as her phone started to ring in her purse.

She leant over to fish it out, eyes rolling at the screen. She showed it to me, revealing the same name that shown yesterday. Adam Pontes. She answered and took another bite. 

“Busy right now.” She said through a chew.

A few nods and hums came out of her. A complete disinterest in anything he had to say to her, eyes staying on me.

“Did I mention I was busy?” She asked winking at me.

I let out a far too audible sigh at her gesture. 

“It can wait.” She said into the phone, tone taking an annoyed turn. “Bore me with it tomorrow, goodbye.”

She pulled the phone from her ear. The faint sound of Adam still talking as she hung it up and dropped it to the counter.

“Tomorrow?” I questioned loosening my hands steel grip. “No rest for Miss. Harkness on a holiday?”

Her jaw visibly clenched, eyes flicking to mine with a seriousness. A long pause had me thinking I said something wrong.

Eyebrows shooting up lazily, she looked down to her almost finished cookie.

“Holidays are just another day.” She waved her hand up at this. 

I wasn’t sure what to say at that. Was it actually possible this woman had nowhere to go on a Holiday?

“I can understand that. Family can be overwhelming at times?” I left it in a question. I wasn’t sure what else to say.

She wordlessly nodded at me, the atmosphere seemed to take a sullen turn. 

“Enough about me, what are your plans for tomorrow?” She asked smile not quite reaching her gorgeous eyes. The lines near them only faintly shown.

“Heading to my parents in the morning.” I quickly replied, fully realizing she wanted to change the subject. “I help them cook before the rest of the family arrives.”

“That sounds nice.” She seemed to really mean it as it sweetly rolled off her tongue. 

“I’ll admit.” With a nod. “I haven’t seen my parents in a bit, I kind of miss them.” I said the end in a whisper like it was secret.

The smile caught up to her eyes again as she leaned the side of her head onto her hand. 

“You have a good relationship with them?” She asked curiously.

“Yes.” I replied halting before I continued. “When I first came out to them, my mom was distant for quite a bit. Now she’s amazing, pride socks in June and all.”

There it was, out in the open for her to take. It felt like an unnecessary comment, but something forced it out. Something inside of me desperately wanted her to know.

The lines next to her eyes beautifully deepened with her smile. A light laugh left her mouth as she straightened her head up from her hand. 

I breathed a laugh out of my nose along with her, taking this reaction as a good sign. 

“And are you bringing anyone home for the occasion?” She asked a slight clip to her voice.

I laughed shaking my head and looking down. “I haven’t had someone to bring home in.” I stopped myself. “Well, let’s just say a very long while.” It felt almost embarrassing to admit how long it had been to her. Uttering the word years at the end of that sentence felt too telling. 

She tapped her phone screen after a moment, both of our eyes traveled to it. Four o’clock loomed just a handful of minutes away.

“I should let you close up.” She said standing gracefully. 

I wanted to ask her to just stay. See if she felt like keeping me company at a grocery store. Wanting to ask her if she’d like to come home with me for Thanksgiving dinner.

Everything about her was so elegant, even the way she picked up her phone. I suddenly felt self conscious with everything to do with myself. The difference in our age glared in my mind crashing me to reality. 

I made my way around the counter to walk her to the door, shutting the lights off as I did. The room was now only covered in the flow of the retreating sun and the distant light in the kitchen. 

Just the same as yesterday she leaned her shoulder against the door, pausing to look back at me. She was absolutely breathtaking and I was just some girl pouring coffee. I felt my mood sinking as the seconds ticked by. “I’ll see you after the holiday.” She said into the air earning a nod from me. 

There was a shift, both of us seeming to be consumed in our own thoughts now.

“I look forward to it.” I forced out as she opened the door.

She turned fully back to me, spare hand slipping into her pants pocket.

After what seemed like an eternity of her eyeing me she spoke. 

“Me too.” 

With that she left, coat waving in the wake of her turn and the wind outside.

I stared foolishly out the door after her. She seemed to make a point not to look back at me, or maybe it just didn’t even cross her mind to look. She drove off leaving me questioning every second of the interaction we just had.