#Birthday Bingo Fic Game

[misshoneyimhome]

So here’s my post for @callsign-denmark's Birthday Bingo 🤗 Naturally, I had to choose my beloved Frederik Andersen ❤️

I know this is also part of my 500 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL, but I thought, why not combine the two celebrations ✨🥂 I really hope you like it, love! And, of course, HAPPY BIRTHDAY for the 13th 🥳🥳

[In short, this is basically 'just' a series of events that I imagine it could be like dating Freddie - but I still hope it's an enjoyable read]

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Summary: The journey of Frederik and Olive wasn’t as straightforward as Olive had hoped—however, on her wedding day, reflecting on it all, she can’t help but smile as she tells their story 🤍

Bingo; Wedding, “Please stay”, comfort, learning to skate, Free space: heartache

Tropes & warnings; strangers to lovers, soulmates, heartache, fluff, angsty romance, happy ending; some smut 18+ (mildly described), penetrative sex (p in v)

Word count; 8K

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“I am done. I'm done waiting for you." I Freddie Andersen

Present 2025 - The Wedding

Olive rose from her seat, her heart fluttering like a trapped bird in her chest. The soft, elegant fabric of her wedding dress whispered around her ankles as she glanced nervously at the sea of expectant faces before her. This was her moment, her wedding day, yet the spotlight felt uncomfortably bright.

In her hand, the delicate crystal glass held a few sips of champagne, a lifeline amidst her nerves; and beside her, a neatly handwritten speech, its words a testament to the journey she and her new husband had travelled together.

Just as she was about to speak, a reassuring warmth enveloped her; Frederik's hand, familiar and steady, rested gently on her lower back. His touch sent a wave of calm through her, grounding her in the present moment.

"You've got this, min skat," his voice, a soft murmur meant only for her ears, whispered encouragement.

Drawing strength from his presence, Olive closed her eyes briefly, allowing herself a moment to collect her thoughts. Then, with a deep breath, she opened her eyes again, her gaze steady and determined.

“Most of you here have probably already heard the story - or versions of the story - of how Freddie and I met," she began, her voice clear and steady, carrying across the room. "But what many of you don’t know is that, though it was definitely love at first sight, the journey of our love wasn’t exactly a straight path.”

_

Flashback to September 2021

Frederik Andersen had just settled into Raleigh, North Carolina, having joined the Carolina Hurricanes for the upcoming season. The city, with its Southern charm and vibrant hockey culture, presented a new adventure waiting to unfold. And while adjusting to a new place and team was both exciting and daunting, he relished the challenge ahead on the ice. The welcoming nature of the Hurricanes' fans and the supportive atmosphere of the organisation made the transition smoother, yet there was still an underlying pressure to prove himself.

Frederik was a formidable goaltender, and he knew it. With several years in the NHL on his CV, he had earned a reputation for his sharp reflexes, keen game sense, and unwavering composure under pressure. He occasionally allowed himself a pat on the back, reminding himself of his achievements, which included crucial saves in high-stakes games, accolades from his peers, and the respect of coaches and teammates across the league.

However, Frederik was also aware of his veteran status in the sport. At 32 years old, he was no longer among the young talents but counted among the experienced players. The whispers of time's relentless march were growing louder, and he often reflected on his journey: the countless hours of training, the injuries overcome, the sacrifices made. Each scar and accolade told the story of his perseverance and passion for the game.

The physical demands of hockey were always present. Frederik maintained a rigorous training regime, balancing on-ice drills with off-ice conditioning to keep his body in peak form. He worked closely with the team's trainers to ensure he could withstand the gruelling schedule of an NHL season. Despite the toll on his body, his love for the game remained undiminished.

And mentally, Frederik embraced his role as a leader and mentor to younger players. He took pride in guiding rookies, sharing insights from his years of experience, and helping them navigate the challenges of professional hockey. His wisdom and steady presence in the locker room were invaluable, fostering a sense of camaraderie and mutual respect among the team.

Yet, Frederik also found himself contemplating life beyond hockey, recognising the importance of a balanced life.

_

One evening, during a team dinner at one of Raleigh's top restaurants, Frederik found himself momentarily drawn to the bar. The atmosphere buzzed with the chatter of teammates and the clinking of glasses. The restaurant boasted an upscale ambiance and exquisite cuisine, with subdued lighting and elegant decor creating an intimate setting for conversations and laughter.

Approaching the bar, Frederik caught sight of a young woman who immediately captivated him. She moved gracefully, her dark hair flowing over her shoulders as she expertly mixed drinks. There was something mesmerising about her—a quiet confidence that caught his attention.

So, leaning casually against the bar counter, the goaltender offered a soft smile and requested, "A Whiskey Sour, please," speaking gently while subtly admiring the bartender's skilled movements. She responded with a professional smile and nodded, focusing on preparing his drink with practised ease.

And as she worked, Frederik couldn’t help but watch her every move. What started as simply observing a skilled bartender at work felt like watching an entertaining ballet performance, captivated by her beauty.

"Here you go, sir," she said in her gentle, sweet voice, interrupting Freddie’s train of thought as she slid the drink across the bar with a warm smile. "Please, enjoy."

"Thank you," Frederik replied simply, returning her smile before taking a sip of his drink. It was perfect, the balance of flavours just right. He savoured the taste, appreciating the craftsmanship, and allowed himself another moment to enjoy the woman’s captivating grace before returning to his table.

And throughout the evening, the usually composed hockey veteran couldn’t help himself, occasionally stealing glances at the bartender. He was so intrigued by her poise and how effortlessly she handled the bustling crowd. She exuded a calm demeanour, much like himself, as she attended to customers with a friendly manner.

Later that night, as Frederik made his way through the bustling restaurant towards the men's room, he overheard fragments of conversations—a blend of laughter, casual banter, and occasional complaints about the noise. And near the end of the bar, he noticed a waitress and the beautiful bartender fully engaged in a quiet discussion, their voices carrying over the background clamour.

"Ugh, I can't wait until this shift is over. These hockey jerks are so loud," sighed the waitress, deftly balancing a stack of empty glasses, her frustration evident.

The bartender chuckled softly, her voice tinged with amusement despite sharing the waitress's sentiment. "Yeah, seriously. They act like they own the place."

Frederik couldn't help but smile to himself at their candid remarks. It was refreshing to hear such honest commentary amidst the usual polite chatter and flattery he encountered; their authenticity was a stark contrast to the sometimes superficial interactions that came with his status as a professional athlete.

After inadvertently eavesdropping, Frederik continued on his way, the conversation between the waitress and bartender lingering in his mind. Then rejoining his teammates, he engaged in their lively discussions and good-natured teasing throughout the evening.

Yet, as the night progressed and the players prepared to leave, Frederik found himself unable to shake the thoughts of the bartender. Her directness, grace, and quiet confidence had made a profound impact on him. Despite not even knowing her name, he felt an inexplicable urge to discover more about her.

As he was about to leave the restaurant, though, he realised with disappointment that she had already left her post. And as he made his way home, he felt a twinge of regret for not taking action sooner.

_

Flashback continued

About a week later, Frederik found himself at an ice skating rink with some of his new teammates and their family members for an open event before the hockey season started. The rink resounded with laughter, the sharp cuts of skates on ice, and the occasional thud of someone falling. Children wobbled around with their parents' careful guidance, while teenagers zipped across, showing off their skating prowess. The atmosphere was vibrant with infectious joy.

And gliding gracefully across the ice, enjoying the freedom and the cool breeze against his face, Frederik then spotted the bartender again. This time, though, she seemed a bit unsure on the ice, cautiously navigating with a few friends. They held onto each other for support, their faces lit up with both delight and mild apprehension as they tried to maintain balance.

Frederik couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat as he recognised her. He watched her for a moment, admiring the sparkle in her eyes and the clarity of her laughter amidst the rink's commotion. He could see her determination as she concentrated on staying upright, a mix of focus and joy that only enhanced her charm.

However, interrupted by Jarvy, Frederik shook his head and refocused on his teammates and friends. But a little while later, after signing several autographs, his mind was elsewhere as he made a few more rounds. Suddenly, he gently collided with someone, his larger frame absorbing most of the impact. Quickly reaching out to steady the person, Frederik's hands were firm yet gentle on their arms.

"I'm so sorry," he apologised reflexively, genuine concern evident in his eyes as he looked down, only to notice it was none other than the bartender he’d been so keen on watching earlier that day.

The bartender smiled sheepishly, her cheeks flushed from the unexpected encounter. "No, it's my fault. I'm just not that great at skating," she admitted, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

Gracefully helping her steady herself, Frederik reminded himself not to let the moment pass. "I'm Freddie, by the way," he quickly introduced himself with a warm smile—perhaps a little too rushed, but he hoped to ease any awkwardness.

The bartender let out a soft laugh. "Yeah, I know," she replied with a hint of playfulness in her voice. "You’re the goaltender for the Carolina Hurricanes."

"Right," Frederik sighed softly, slightly disappointed that this was the only reason she recognised him. Yet, just as he was about to say something else, she spoke again with a smile.

"And you were at the restaurant last week. I remember serving you a drink."

That made Frederik let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah, with the rest of the hockey jerks," he said, recalling her remark, teasing gently and causing her to blush slightly.

"Oh right - gosh, I’m so sorry about that… It's not that we don't like you guys... it’s just… We were just really tired during that shift," she explained, feeling a bit embarrassed as she looked up at him, her eyes sincere.

But Frederik just shook his head. "No need to apologise. I get it," he reassured her, his smile comforting as he admired her honesty and the way she didn't shy away from the truth.

"Anyway, I won’t take up more of your time, Freddie. You’re busy with your hockey stuff—but I am sorry about the collision—and the comment last week," she offered him a smile.

But as she then began to carefully skate away, Frederik couldn't resist calling out, "Wait, what's your name?"

Turning her head, she replied with a smile, "Olive, but my friends call me Liv.”

He watched her rejoin her friends, her laughter and presence still standing out in the crowd. And from that moment on, Frederik found himself thinking about Olive's smile, her easy laughter, and the genuine warmth he felt in her presence.

Similarly, Olive couldn't shake off the impression Frederik had left on her. She had expected him to be like the rest—cocky and self-assured—but instead, she found him surprisingly humble and kind. His gentle demeanour and the way he had treated her with respect and kindness had caught her off guard in the best possible way.

And surprisingly, the universe seemed to conspire to bring them together, causing their paths to casually cross over the next few weeks.

Olive attended her first Hurricanes home game with her hockey enthusiast friends, who had also managed to arrange a meet-and-greet with some of the players for an autograph session before the match. The excitement of the crowd was palpable, and Olive quickly found herself swept up in the fans’ energy.

And naturally, among the players, Frederik was there, who immediately spotted Olive in the crowd. His heart raced as he instinctively made his way over to her, nerves bubbling up unexpectedly as he focused solely on her, ignoring everyone else around him.

"Hey, Olive," he greeted, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

"Oh hi, Freddie," she replied, her eyes sparkling with recognition.

The noise of the crowd softly faded into the background as they connected in a gaze. And completely captivated by Olive's charm, Frederik momentarily forgot his surroundings. She had a way of making him feel at ease, her laughter contagious and her insights thoughtful.

But then her friends approached, their jaws almost dropping as they realised Olive was actually on a first-name - well, nickname - basis with Frederik Andersen.

And Frederik couldn’t help but chuckle at their reaction. Yet, ever the professional, he quickly offered them autographs, followed by Olive taking photos of them. 

“Hey, what about you, Liv?” one of her friends suggested.

“Oh no, that’s okay,” she timidly replied.

Frederik offered her a soft smile, trying his best to hide any hints of disappointment. However, her other friend pressed on and encouraged Olive to stand close to Frederik, prompting him to gently wrap his arm around her. “Come on, Liv! You know you want to.”

Olive felt slightly awkward standing next to the towering goaltender, yet she couldn’t deny how comfortable his presence felt. His body was warm against hers, his hand gently resting on her waist as they both smiled at the camera.

But their moment was fleeting as Frederik was then quickly called away to continue his obligations. Yet, just before parting ways, he gathered his courage and asked Olive out for coffee.

And naturally, she quickly accepted with a smile that lit up the room. They exchanged numbers, and as Frederik then walked away, he felt a sense of excitement he hadn't felt in a long time. The anticipation of their upcoming coffee date filled him with a warmth that stayed with him long after he had left the arena.

_

Flashback to October 2021

Frederik and Olive's first coffee date was nothing short of blissful. They sat across from each other in a cosy café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the warmth of their conversation. The café itself was charming, with exposed brick walls adorned with local artwork and soft jazz music playing in the background. And from the moment they started talking, time seemed to slip away unnoticed.

Frederik was genuinely fascinated by Olive's travels and her passion for writing. He listened intently as she animatedly described her favourite destinations and the stories she hoped to tell through her works. Olive's eyes lit up as she recounted her adventures in Paris, her quiet retreat in a small village in Tuscany, and the bustling markets of Marrakech. She shared stories of the characters she had met along the way, the inspiration they provided for her writing, and her dream of publishing a novel one day.

In return, Olive found herself captivated by Frederik's hockey experiences, his dedication to his craft, and the unwavering support of his family in his success. He shared tales from his childhood in Denmark, where his father first introduced him to the sport, and the journey that led him from local rinks to the NHL. Frederik spoke passionately about the thrill of his first professional game, the camaraderie among his teammates, and the sacrifices he had made to pursue his passion.

And as the evening drew to a close, neither of them wanted the night to end. They lingered outside the café, reluctant to part ways, with the city lights casting a soft glow around them, creating a magical atmosphere. Then with a shy smile, Frederik asked Olive if she would like to meet again.

"Definitely," she replied quickly, her heart fluttering with excitement.

And about a week later, they met for dinner at a quaint restaurant tucked away in a quiet corner of Raleigh. The atmosphere was intimate, with flickering candlelight casting a soft glow over their faces as they continued to talk and laugh effortlessly.

The restaurant's rustic charm, featuring wooden beams and vintage décor, added to the sense of intimacy as they discovered common interests and a shared sense of humour that strengthened their connection. They laughed over their mutual love for different cuisines, shared their favourite books and music, and debated quirky action films.

“No way,” Olive insisted. “Die Hard is NOT a Christmas movie.”

Frederik chuckled. “Well, it does take place during a Christmas party, and it’s listed under the category of Christmas classics on Disney+, so… that settles it.”

Olive shook her head. “Well, they seriously need to do some proper research then.”

From the moment they met, Frederik was charmed by Olive's wit and intelligence, while Olive admired Frederik's humility and genuine kindness. Their connection was undeniable, and neither felt any awkwardness or doubt as they spent hour after hour together.

However, as weeks turned into months, the demands of Frederik's hockey season took precedence. His schedule was filled with training sessions, games, and team commitments, leaving little time for leisurely dates and quiet moments with Olive. Days became a whirlwind of practices, strategy meetings, and travel for away games, and Frederik found himself constantly on the move, with little opportunity to catch his breath.

Despite his best intentions, maintaining regular contact with Olive became a challenge. Text messages went unanswered for hours, and plans for meet-ups were often postponed. Frederik knew he was letting her slip through his fingers, but the relentless pace of the season left him torn between his passion for hockey and his growing feelings for her.

Meanwhile, Olive began to feel uncertainty creeping in. While she cherished the moments they had shared and the connection they had formed, she couldn't shake the feeling of being sidelined as the hockey season intensified. She tried to understand Frederik's commitments, but deep down, she couldn't help feeling neglected and unimportant.

Many evenings were spent alone, reminiscing about their time together, and Olive found herself drafting texts to him, only to delete them out of fear of appearing needy and clingy. The growing silence between them became deafening, amplifying her doubts and insecurities.

So, as weeks turned into months, Olive reluctantly started to distance herself emotionally. She convinced herself that their relationship was merely a fleeting romance—a beautiful chapter in her life, but not meant to last. She buried her feelings, telling herself that perhaps Frederik had never felt as strongly for her as she had hoped. Then turning to her writing, Olive used her emotions as fuel for her stories, seeking solace in her creative expression.

Their once vibrant connection began to fade, replaced by a bittersweet ache of what could have been. Despite sensing the shift in Olive's demeanour, Frederik felt powerless to bridge the growing gap between them amidst the demands of his career and the pressures of the season. He missed her laughter, her stories, and the way she grounded him, but changing the situation seemed beyond his control.

And as the hockey season reached its peak, Frederik and Olive found themselves drifting further apart, their love story seemingly slipping away into memories and what-ifs. The initial spark that had brought them together dimmed under the weight of unspoken words and missed opportunities, leaving both with a lingering sense of loss.

_

Flashback to December 2021

As Frederik had finally settled into his role within the team and achieved a better balance between his career and personal life, thoughts of Olive quickly returned to occupy his mind. It had been two months since their paths had diverged, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had let something special slip away. Determined to make amends, he gathered his courage and reached out to her, hoping for an opportunity to reconnect.

To his surprise and relief, Olive agreed to meet him again. She approached this reunion cautiously, wary of opening herself up to potential hurt once more. Despite her reservations, she found herself unable to resist Frederik's gentle persistence and the lingering memories of their time together.

So, for their next outing, Frederik suggested ice skating, eager to make up for their awkward first encounter on the ice. Arriving at the rink with a mix of excitement and nerves, Olive felt a flutter of anticipation as she laced up her skates beside Frederik. He flashed her a reassuring smile, his warm honey-brown eyes filled with determination to make this experience memorable for both of them.

And sensing her slight struggles, Frederik then knelt before her, gently taking over to tie her skates properly. It felt almost like a Cinderella moment for Olive as she gazed down at Frederik, who effortlessly secured the laces. And she couldn't help but feel a rush of affectionate emotions within her.

"There you go," he interrupted her thoughts, looking up with a smile. "All sorted?"

Olive nodded eagerly, "Absolutely."

Then stepping onto the ice, Frederik took Olive's hand in his, his touch tender and supportive as he guided her patiently, explaining the basics of balance and movement. His voice became a comforting backdrop to the sounds of blades slicing through the ice.

Olive chuckled at her initial wobbles, finding reassurance in his encouraging words and steady grip. And as they glided across the rink together, Frederik led with the grace born of years spent on the ice, and Olive followed his lead, gaining confidence with each lap they completed. Their laughter mingled as they shared in the delight of their newfound rhythm, the awkwardness of their first attempt melting away in the warmth of their shared smiles.

After a few laps around the ice, they paused to catch their breath, leaning against the rink's railings. Frederik's eyes sparkled with admiration as he looked at Olive, proud of her progress and the passion she displayed for something he cherished deeply. They exchanged stories and laughter, savouring the simple pleasure of being together again in this moment of shared joy.

And by the end of their date, Olive felt a sense of achievement she hadn't anticipated. Not only had she improved her skating skills under Frederik's patient guidance, but she also felt closer to him than ever before. The spark of their connection had reignited amidst the playful banter and shared triumphs on the ice, leaving them both with a renewed sense of closeness and affection.

As they left the rink, hand in hand, she just couldn’t help but marvel at how Frederik had transformed what could have been a daunting experience into a cherished memory. Once again, she found herself drawn to his easy charm and genuine kindness. Yet, she guarded her heart, reminding herself that they were embarking on a fresh start—a new beginning without expectations of where it might lead.

Frederik felt a deep sense of contentment. The day had surpassed his expectations, not just in reigniting their connection but in reaffirming the bond they shared. So, as they strolled away from the rink, the night air crisp and filled with promise, he suddenly halted and spoke with confidence.

"Hey Liv."

"Yes, Freddie?"

But Frederik didn’t really need to say anything. Instead, with gallantry and genuine care, he simply stole a tender kiss from her—a gesture he had contemplated all day but hadn’t dared to attempt until he was sure she desired him as much as he desired her.

Needless to say, Olive eagerly returned the kiss with equal longing.

Fortunately, their next meeting came less than a week later, and this time it was at a Hurricanes home game in the PNC Arena. The atmosphere was tense as the team faced off against the New York Islanders, but despite their best efforts, the Canes suffered a disappointing loss. The crowd, which had been electric with anticipation all night, now buzzed with the sting of defeat as everyone gradually dispersed from their seats.

Frederik's emotions were raw after the game. He didn’t want Olive to witness his vulnerability so soon after reconnecting, to see him like that. But as she approached him in the corridor with a comforting smile, he couldn't resist the pull of her empathy and genuine care. So, instinctively, he pulled her into a tight hug, seeking comfort in her presence.

"Hey, you did amazing, Freddie," Olive said, looking up at him as he released his arms from around her smaller frame.

"I know," he sighed deeply. "But a loss is still a loss."

Olive tried her best to muster a smile in the face of disappointment. "Well, the good thing about hitting rock bottom is that at least it can't get any worse."

Frederik couldn’t help but let a smile appear on his lips, her words both comforting and amusing. And as they made their way out of the arena, Frederik insisted on driving Olive home, to which she happily accepted. However, neither of them wanted the night to end on a sombre note, so Olive invited him inside her apartment.

The small space was cosy and filled with personal touches—framed photos, shelves lined with books, and soft, ambient lighting that created an inviting atmosphere. And in the quiet intimacy of Olive's living room, they swiftly engaged in heartfelt conversations that ranged from hockey to their deepest aspirations and fears. 

Olive shared her recent writing submission to the local paper, expressing her dreams of building a career beyond bartending and the fears that sometimes held her back. Frederik, in turn, opened up about the pressures of his career, the constant demand to perform, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead after his time in the NHL. 

It was a tender evening marked by sensitive topics, and as their emotions lay bare, their connection only deepened, culminating in a tender kiss.

Surprising even herself, Olive let go of her reservations, allowing their kiss to deepen into something more passionate and consuming. In that moment, their physical desire mirrored the emotional intensity they had both been denying themselves for so long. Each touch and caress spoke volumes of their longing and the bond they shared.

Then with unspoken understanding and mutual consent, they moved to Olive's bedroom, where their bodies eagerly intertwined in an expression that transcended mere physical attraction. Frederik took his time undressing her, studying every curve of her body as his fingers gently explored her smooth skin, gradually exposing more of her.

Meanwhile, Olive found herself unable to suppress her desire for him. Each touch and caress ignited a deeper longing, and as she helped him discard his clothing as well, she savoured the feel of his muscles beneath her palms. 

No words were necessary as their eyes locked in a tender gaze, a profound connection as Frederik positioned himself above her on the mattress. Then without hesitation, he lined himself up with her entrance and eased himself into her, causing moans to escape them both as their bodies joined together. With every movement, every thrust and kiss, the heat between them intensified. Their lovemaking was tender yet passionate, a culmination of deep, raw lust and heartfelt emotions for one another.

As they moved together in sync, quickening the pace and getting closer to the brim of ecstacy, their moans grew deeper and louder, names slipping off their tongues. Then with a few more final pounds, they managed to reach an intense climax together, a rush filling their minds as they breathed heavily and allowed euphoria to take over. 

And in the serene aftermath, nestled in each other's embrace, Frederik and Olive found solace in the warmth of their connection, the steady rhythm of their breathing echoing softly in the room. As they drifted into sleep, intertwined and content, they realised they were no longer merely skirting around their emotions—they were diving headfirst into the depths of a love that had patiently been waiting.

_

Flashback to February 2022

Olive experienced every moment with Frederik Andersen as a whirlwind of emotions and passion. Their dates were filled with laughter, deep conversations, and an increasing sense of closeness that left her breathless. Day by day, she found herself falling deeper in love with him, his presence becoming both comforting and exhilarating in her life.

Their physical connection was undeniable, each touch igniting a fire within her unlike anything she had felt before, as Frederik's tender caresses and passionate embraces brought her to heights of pleasure she had only dreamed of. It was in those intimate moments, she felt a connection that went beyond the physical—a deep bond that whispered promises of forever.

Olive simply found herself completely in love and believed she had found her soulmate in Frederik. She cherished their time together, treasuring every stolen kiss and shared glance as precious moments. In his arms, she felt safe, cherished, and truly alive.

However, Frederik was struggling with his own internal battle. While he cared deeply for Olive, and possibly even loved her, he couldn't ignore the demands of his hockey career. And as their relationship grew, he felt torn between being a devoted boyfriend to her and giving his all to his training and team responsibilities.

So, after navigating this delicate balance for several months, which included sharing meaningful moments during the Christmas season, Frederik came to a painful realisation. He knew that continuing their relationship would mean sacrificing valuable time and focus on his career—a sacrifice he wasn't prepared to make.

And caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, Frederik wrestled with how to best handle the situation. Part of him considered reducing their time together, hoping Olive would understand his need to prioritise hockey. Yet, after agonising over the decision, he ultimately concluded that ending their relationship was the kindest option, sparing Olive from further heartache and disappointment.

With a heavy heart, Frederik then explained to her that he needed to focus on his career and couldn't give her the time and commitment she deserved. 

Olive was completely blindsided by his decision. She had believed their love was deep and meaningful, capable of overcoming ayn challenges including his demanding career. So, naturally, the sudden breakup left her reeling with a mix of anger, betrayal, and heartbreak.

She struggled to understand how their seemingly profound connection could be discarded so easily. In her anguish, she felt deceived and used, convinced that Frederik had viewed her as a temporary distraction—a fleeting amusement with no lasting significance.

Beneath her hurt, anger simmered not only towards Frederik but also towards herself for believing so blindly in a love that seemed one-sided. Rejection wounded her deeply, shaking her self-worth and trust in her own judgement.

Despite the ache in her heart, Olive sought solace in the memories they had created—the laughter, passion, and genuine moments of connection. So, as she navigated the aftermath of their breakup, she made a solemn vow to protect herself from further heartache. She resolved to focus on healing, rebuilding her confidence, and learning to trust again—knowing that with time, the pain would ease and she would emerge stronger.

For now, however, the wound remained raw, and the weight of lost love hung heavily on her soul.

_

Flashback to April 2022

Months passed, and Olive gradually began to mend her broken heart. She tried to distract herself with casual flings and meaningless encounters in an effort to fill the void left by Frederik's abrupt departure. Yet, no matter how hard she tried to move forward, reminders of him persisted in her life.

As the goaltender for the city's beloved hockey team, Frederik Andersen was omnipresent in the media and among her friends, many of whom were avid fans. Olive couldn't escape reminders of him—the sight of his face on billboards, mentions of his name in conversations, and the ache in her heart whenever she watched him play.

Her mornings started with glimpses of him on TV highlights, a reminder of their shared passion for life. During lunches with friends, his name inevitably came up, forcing her to mask her discomfort with forced smiles and polite nods. Evenings brought photos of him on social media, where friends shared moments of his public life that she felt painfully excluded from.

Olive had never fully confided in her friends about the depth of her heartbreak, brushing off their gentle inquiries with a simple explanation that their relationship had ended due to his demanding schedule—partially true. However, her friends could see through her façade, sensing the pain that flickered in her eyes whenever Frederik's name arose. And their supportive embraces and silent understanding provided some solace amid the tumultuous emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

One evening, her friends managed to convince her to join them for another Hurricanes home game. By then, Olive had grown somewhat numb to the sharp sting of seeing Frederik on the ice, resigned to the ache in her heart that seemed to have taken up permanent residence.

And as the game progressed, Frederik focused on his performance and the team's objectives. Yet, during a break, as he came to scan the crowd, his gaze suddenly locked onto Olive's familiar face in one of the  front rows. In that instant, the weight of remorse and regret crashed over him like a tidal wave.

When the final buzzer sounded, Frederik's resolve solidified. He knew he needed to speak to Olive, to apologise for the pain he had caused her. So, approaching her cautiously, his heart racing with nerves and determination, he messaged her asking if she could meet him in the locker room after the game.

But Olive couldn't face him so soon. The wounds were still fresh, the emotions raw. So, with a gentle yet firm refusal, she declined his invitation, unsure if she could maintain her composure in his presence.

Despite her reluctance, fate intervened yet again a few days later when Frederik found himself dining at the restaurant where Olive worked. And this time, their paths couldn't avoid crossing. Accompanied by friends, managers, and his agent, Frederik's presence made it impossible for Olive to avoid the unexpected - and perhaps awkward, encounter.

Hours passed as she watched him from the bar, her heart still aching. So ,seeking solace, Olive slipped out behind the restaurant for fresh air, but only to find Frederik following her.

"You shouldn’t be out here," she said firmly, crossing her arms as he approached gently.

"I needed to see you," he said softly, taking a small step forward. 

"Freddie, please, I can’t do this..."

Despite her protest, Frederik moved closer to her. His expression was earnest, his eyes filled with regret and longing. And before she could object further, he pulled her into his arms with force, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that reignited a fire she thought had died.

Passionate and fueled by desire, the kiss brought forth unresolved emotions. Olive struggled against conflicting feelings, torn between past hurt and their undeniable chemistry. Yet, instinctively, her arms found Frederik’s neck, deepening the kiss.

And as the night unfolded, they found themselves back at Olive's apartment, their bodies entwined in a frenzy of longing and need. Their lovemaking was intense, a physical manifestation of the longing and desire that had simmered beneath the surface for months. 

Just like many times before, it felt so effortlessly easy to allow their bodies to melt together. With Olive straddling Frederik, she moved with determination and deep breaths, their moans harmonising while approaching their climaxes. 

Yet, in need for more closeness, Frederik swiftly turned them over into missionary, where he held his face close to hers, thrusting with force and vigorous motions till they both reached the peak in a symphony. 

And in the aftermath of their passionate reunion, Olive found herself whispering those two words that held both vulnerability and hope: "Please, stay."

Frederik knew he shouldn't have stayed. He owed her honesty about where they stood. But in that moment, holding her close, feeling the warmth of her against him, he couldn't leave. She was the love he craved, the one person he couldn’t let go of.

So, they fell asleep together, wrapped in each other's arms, finding solace in shared intimacy.

However, when Olive woke the next morning, she found herself alone in bed. Frederik had left quietly, only leaving behind a simple message: "I'm sorry."

The words echoed in Olive's mind as she lay there, her heart aching with a familiar pain. She had allowed herself to hope for a second chance at love. Yet, Frederik's departure left her grappling once more with uncertainty and heartbreak, questioning if their love story was destined to be fleeting rather than enduring.

_

Flashback to May 2021

For seven turbulent months, Olive experienced the unpredictable highs and lows of love and heartbreak, all because of Frederik Andersen. She had tasted the bliss of their intense connection and endured the pain of his repeated departures. Despite the hurt he caused, she couldn't ignore the enduring love she still felt.

So, to heal her broken heart and move forward, Olive found solace in Colin—a dependable man who offered her security and the attention she craved. Their relationship blossomed, giving her the comfort and stability she had lacked during her tumultuous time with Frederik.

And immersed in this new relationship, Olive gradually regained her confidence and found moments of happiness. Colin was attentive, always ready to listen to her thoughts and dreams, in stark contrast to Frederik's unpredictable presence.

However, despite her growing affection for Colin, she couldn't completely erase Frederik from her heart. Memories of their passionate connection and emotional bond lingered, casting a shadow over her newfound stability. She wrestled with guilt, questioning the fairness of her lingering feelings for Frederik towards Colin.

So, navigating this emotional maze, Olive struggled with conflicting desires, torn between her past and present, unsure of where her true feelings lay.

But as always fate intervened one evening as Frederik unexpectedly saw Olive at a bar during a rare free night in Raleigh. Her laughter and smiles quickly caught his attention, stirring jealousy as he watched her with Colin, making him torn between bantering with his teammates and the painful realisation of what he had lost.

Every laugh, every touch between Olive and Colin felt like a dagger twisting in Frederik's chest, a reminder of the love he had let slip away. His heart ached with longing and regret, unable to bear seeing Olive move on without him.

And so, driven by desperation and needing to confront his feelings, Frederik sought a private moment with her. He found her in a quiet corner of the pub, softly lit by a nearby lamp, and reached out to gently grasp her wrist.

“Liv!” 

"Freddie, please don’t!" Olive exclaimed firmly, trying to pull away, but he held on.

"I’m sorry, but I just can't bear to see you with someone else, please talk to me,” his voice cracked with emotion.

Olive's heart wrenched at the sight of Frederik, vulnerable and exposed. Tears welled in her eyes as she struggled against the surge of desire threatening to engulf her once more. But she knew she had to be strong, to protect herself from the pain he had unintentionally caused.

"No, Freddie," she protested, her voice trembling as she withdrew her hand. "I can't do this anymore."

Her words echoed through the corridor, a painful declaration of finality amidst the noise of the crowded bar. With tears streaming down her face, Olive turned away from Frederik, but he grabbed her arm again, preventing her from leaving.

"Just listen to me..." he pleaded softly, filled with anguish.

Frederik's heart shattered at her rejection. He tried to explain, to beg for another chance, to convey the depth of his feelings and the turmoil within him. But Olive had reached her limit. She could no longer wait for Frederik to prioritise their relationship over his career and uncertainties.

"I'm done, Freddie. I'm done waiting for you," she declared, her voice a mix of grief and determination.

And as she walked away, leaving Frederik alone in the corridor, he was consumed by profound loss and regret. For the first time, he truly felt the weight of his actions—the pain he had caused her, the love he had lost.

In that moment of clarity, Frederik understood the enormity of Olive's love and the depth of his mistakes. He had sacrificed the one relationship that had made him feel alive, and haunted by her words and his own regrets, he vowed to learn from his mistakes. 

But for now, all he could do was stand there, grappling with the ache in his heart, knowing he had shattered the heart of the woman he loved the most.

_

Flashback Continued

The hockey season was reaching its peak, with the Carolina Hurricanes deeply entrenched in a pivotal playoff battle. Frederik Andersen, their dependable goalie, felt the pressure and nerves building as he prepared for the game that could define their postseason fate, as tonight wasn't just about a simple win or loss; it was about advancing to the next round or facing an early end to their season.

Frederik's mind buzzed with strategy and anticipation as he stepped onto the ice, the thunderous cheers of the home crowd echoing through the arena. Each save he made brought a rush of adrenaline, a mix of relief and determination to keep the Hurricanes competitive. Yet beneath his focused exterior, thoughts of Olive lingered—a poignant distraction that fuelled his drive to succeed while stirring up unresolved emotions.

Meanwhile, in the stands, Olive sat at the edge of her seat beside Colin, her gaze fixed on Frederik as he moved swiftly and decisively in goal. Her initial casual interest in hockey had evolved into genuine passion over the past many months, ignited by Frederik's skill and the intensity of playoff hockey. Despite her efforts to conceal it, Colin couldn't ignore the subtle changes in Olive's demeanour whenever the goalie made a crucial save or endured the disappointment of a goal against.

And as the game intensified and emotions ran high, Olive found herself torn between the thrill of the Hurricanes' offensive surges and the ache in her heart whenever Frederik faced relentless shots. She stole brief glances at Colin, aware of the unspoken tension between them—a delicate balance disrupted by Frederik's undeniable hold on her.

The Hurricanes fought fiercely, but midway through the third period, disaster struck as Frederik was substituted—a crushing blow for any goalie. His frustration was palpable as he slammed his stick on the rink railing on his way to the locker room, burdened by the weight of the team's playoff hopes.

And watching Frederik's despondent demeanour from the stands stirred a familiar ache in Olive's chest—a mix of empathy for his disappointment and a desire to comfort him. She felt torn, caught between her loyalty to Colin and the lingering emotions she still harboured for Frederik.

But then when the opposing team scored yet another goal, dashing any hope of a comeback, Olive's resolve wavered. Deciding on excusing herself from her seat, she made her way towards the locker room, driven by an irresistible urge to find Frederik amidst the playoff game chaos.

And navigating the familiar maze-like corridors of the arena, she finally reached the locker room area, where Frederik would be reflecting on his performance. The sound of subdued voices and equipment filled the air as she cautiously approached the doorway to the team's inner sanctum.

There he sat, alone in his stall, still clad in his gear, head bowed in contemplation. Yet, as he glanced up and saw Olive standing in the doorway, tears welling in her eyes, Frederik's heart skipped a beat.

"Liv," he murmured softly, his voice tinged with fragile hope.

Solid tears streamed down Olive's cheeks as she struggled to compose herself. She had come intending to offer comfort, but now as she was so close to him once more, she was overwhelmed by a rush of emotions—the months of shared memories, the lingering warmth of their connection, and the ache of their tumultuous past.

Frederik then swiftly rose from the seat and cautiously approached her. And with no words spoken, Olive instinctively rushed to close the distance between them, drawn to the familiarity and solace Frederik offered in his embrace. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up in a close, desperate union that spoke of longing, regret, and unspoken love.

Their lips met in a passionate kiss, her hands finding their way into Frederik's hair as she held him tightly, unwilling to let go.

Then breaking away from the heated kiss, they stood breathless. Olive knew she couldn't stay, couldn't betray Colin's trust, yet a part of her yearned to linger in Frederik's embrace forever.

"Please, stay..." Frederik pleaded, his voice filled with desperation and vulnerability. "Liv, I want you. I need you… I can’t be without you…"

Tears continued to stream down Olive's cheeks as she struggled with the torment of her conflicted emotions. "Freddie... I can't," she whispered hoarsely. "You'll just hurt me again..."

But Frederik held her tightly, his eyes pleading for her understanding. "No, not this time, Olive. I love you..."

"I love you too, Freddie," she simply confessed, her voice barely audible amidst the storm of emotions within her.

They sealed their renewed bond with another heartfelt kiss, but Olive knew she couldn't continue deceiving Colin. Despite the pain it would cause, she had to be honest with him about her feelings for Frederik. It wasn't fair to him, nor to herself, to deny the depth of her love for the man who had captured her heart months ago.

And as the Hurricanes faced an early playoff exit, Frederik and Olive sought solace in each other's arms that night, rekindling their passion amidst the echoes of disappointment.

Together, they embraced the uncertainty of their future, knowing that their love story was far from over—it was just beginning.

_

Present 2025 - The Wedding

Three years had passed swiftly, filled with love, challenges, and unwavering commitment.

As Olive concluded her heartfelt speech, basking in the applause from their friends and family, she couldn't suppress the radiant smile that spread across her face. While Frederik, her anchor and soulmate, sat beside her, his eyes filled with admiration and love.

The venue, adorned in soft hues of ivory and gold, resonated with the tender emotions of the occasion. And Olive's voice carried with a blend of sincerity and gratitude as she thanked their loved ones for their steadfast support and recounted cherished memories of their journey together. Her words were interspersed with laughter and tears, each moment affirming the depth of their bond.

Frederik knew he couldn't match Olive's speech with words alone. Despite help from loved ones in composing his own speech, he grappled with expressing the simplicity and sincerity that defined his feelings. So, rising from his seat, he briefly glanced at his notes, the inked words reflecting his devotion and the path they had walked together.

"I've never been one for lengthy speeches…" Frederik began, his voice steady with emotion. "And I'm sure many of you here know that. But that's okay, because..." He paused, taking a deep breath. "The only thing that truly matters, the only thing I need to say, is that... I love you, Liv. I have loved you from the moment I first saw you, even when I didn't trust myself to love." His gaze locked onto Olive's, their eyes meeting in a shared moment.

A reassuring smile spread across her face as she listened intently, her heart swelling with the weight of his words. Frederik’s voice grew stronger with each heartfelt sentence, resonating with the depth of their shared experiences. "I've never quite understood why you chose me," he continued, his tone filled with humility and adoration. "But I've stopped questioning it. What matters is that we chose each other. And I promise, with all my heart, to be the best husband I can be for you, for the rest of our lives."

Their love story wasn't a simple fairy tale romance devoid of challenges or imperfections. It was real, raw, and deeply meaningful—a journey marked by growth, forgiveness, and unwavering commitment. It was a testament to their resilience, having weathered every storm together, emerging stronger and more deeply in love each time.

The End

[gutterfuuck]

bro bro hear me out

you’re like the only mark writer out there so i NEED THIS TO HAPPEN PLS.

frat boy mark x sorority girl reader.

PLLLLLEAAAAAAAASEEEEEEEEEEE.

enough — !

this idea was so good, i had to start writing before i lost my mind and forgot!! you are such genius. this is probably a little off topic(?) as what you were thinking!! sorry if it is not what you expected, however, i will be using this idea in future so if you do not enjoy this, i will be writing another that is more enjoyable to you!! (with credit to you of course as the original anon!!) the frat name is an abbreviation because i couldn’t come up with one 😭😭

cw: reader is like 2 years older than mark? idk they’re both in their 20s, no superheroes/abilities au!!, william is in here for a bit i love william #williamforpresident2024, alcohol, typical college frat/sorority type parties, the start is quite long sorry i got carried away 😭, dubcon(?), reader is a bitch lowkey, mark gets mean, smut, headlock, piv, degradation, mark gets really mean ouh, creampie hehe, typical sparkie fic it’s evil and hiding under your bed like the babadook or something, aftercare at the end cuz i got soft

a/n: i was supposed to release this yesterday night though have had to edit and spellcheck this myself!! i am quite proud as this is probably the longest fic i have written without any editing from my friend!! if you notice small mistakes no you didn’t

he’s had it with you.

it’s only been a few months since he’s started college and he’s already way behind everyone else. you didn’t have a care in the world, you’d already completed college!! yet you still stay in your old dorm room, bunking with someone who had gotten lucky and left without a roommate, you payed whatever rent you felt like. you just enjoyed the college scenery, the lifestyle, you never wanted it to end… most of all, you loved your sorority. you were well aware that you might’ve looked a little bit like a loser, still hanging out with the sorority with ever changing members. you didn’t care, you were practically in charge, their leader - the queen bee. and that’s what got on his nerves.

you see, you’ve been handed life on a silver platter. a sweet 16th birthday party with a car bought just for you, spoiled absolutely rotten. mark couldn’t really talk, but at least his family came from humble beginnings, you’ve always had your money and status. you’ve always gotten what you want, even if you had to play the long game. the long, hard, boring game... which people could only stand for five minutes or less, what with your constant whining sounds and your foot stomping on the ground, pouting with your arms crossed over your chest. whatever you wanted, people just gave to you. handed themselves on a silver platter… not him. never him.

mark had a love-hate relationship with you. on one hand, you were hot, stunning… he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think about you some nights, just like the other guys he hung around with.. on the other hand, you were nothing but a spoiled brat. he remembered the first time you’d come bolting at him as he stood at the doorstep of your sorority house, confusing it with the other one he’d supposed to have showed up at on his first day. you threw your arms around him as your head pounded from last night’s heavy drinking, your only sober thought being “i hope the other girls don’t get to him first.”

“fresh meat huhhh… i *hic* always like the newer ones… you like to party..?” you ask, swaying around with your arm around his like you’d known him for years let alone five seconds. mark tensed, expression shifting to slight annoyance as you almost crumpled over, dragging you back up by your shoulder gently. “no. do you know where house 242 is?” you pout at him, wavy finger pressing to his cheek and wobbling a line down his face before he smacked your hand away, tutting at you and looking around the front porch of your sorority house. bingo. mark shook you away, trudging towards the folded up lawn chair he had spotted, bringing it back and unfolding it for you. you’d annoyed him, sure, but his mother had taught him to be nice to girls.

actually, he pitied you. mark thought he could read between the lines, thought you being drunk at 11am on a wednesday morning must’ve been because you were hurting about something, someone, someplace… debbie’s words before she dropped him off in the car two days prior played in his head, ‘you never know what people could be going through, so be kind.’ as much as you’d bothered him so far, he was still inclined to make sure you were at least sat down to minimize risking an injury. you flopped down into the chair, groaning when you bumped your spine against the metal frame of it, tilting your head back to look up at him. he stared down at you with tired brown eyes, stoic expression not registering to you in your drunken state. at least you were pretty.

he clears his throat before he talks again, unfolding a piece of paper from his pocket, “house 242. do you know how to get there?” your eyes widen, mouth falling open with an excited gasp, “shut up! you are not in OOA!” you slur loudly, attempting to get up from your seat but dropping back into it as your socked feet slipped on the grassy ground below. mark gave a sideways smile and nodded slowly, he hadn’t been given the frat name yet, only the house number. mark didn’t want to have to walk around campus with a drunk sorority girl, you were only dressed in a night dress and a loose jacket, people would get the wrong idea! but, if he had no choice (and he didn’t really feel like walking around campus and looking for the house for the third time today) he’d have to have you as his temporary guide of sorts. this was so embarrassing, he really hoped nobody would think of him as a scumbag.

after watching you flap your arms and get all excited about his frat, you wobble towards the house, rushing to put on a pair of shorts and a tank top, slipping your feet into your fluffy pink slippers, a staple. because of you, no other girls apart from your sorority would wear pink shoes around campus. and you wondered why people had branded you, and your little minions who wanted to be like you, as a bully of sorts. actually, if you thought for more than twenty seconds about it, you’d know people’d rather stay on your good side: you were rich, pretty, stole people’s boyfriends on the regular, confronted those who you thought were competition and you were allowed to basically do as you wanted. because daddykins’ best friends with the dean and the dean makes wayyyy less than your dear old dad and your father bends over backwards for you so if you wanted to waste your degree you fucked and paid yourself to, then you absolutely could.

when you both start walking, you attempt to interlock your arm with his, twisting your face up in disbelief when he rejected your advances. nobody had ever, ever, in the history of ever, done that to you. you want to stamp your foot on the ground but you resist, awkwardly crossing your arms over your chest. maybe he was just shy, you’d met guys like this before. new, shy, never had a pretty girl at his side like this… you got it, you really did. you’d take this as a loss, you’d soften him down later, OOA liked to party and you hadn’t seen a new member who hadn’t drank on their first night yet. you’d know, you’d been doing this same routine for almost three years. fresh meat, lost little lamb, needs the drunk pretty girl’s help ‘cause OOA was pretty hidden away, slipping your arm into theirs to tease them, walking them to their new hangout… coming back before seven on the evening and flirting your way into the new guy’s pants, blocking them when they try to contact you before moving on to the next one… one step had already gone south in your plan. you’d take it on the chin this time. he was cute and you’d already claimed him as yours, the other girls would know as soon as they saw him.

the path you both walked on faded into the concrete, a grassy path appearing as you spotted some guys outside of the house, a keg of beer already being set up this early in the day. mark thought maybe he’d made a mistake jointing the same frat his father had during his own college days, the promise of the frat being quite calm and collected faded away from almost three decades ago, the newer generation of young adults poisoning the good name his father had gone on and on about. sure, nolan had drank during his college years but parties and alcohol were never kept at OOA.

you see, mark wasn’t the average frat guy type: not loud, not obnoxious, actually wanted to learn and grow from his college experience and make some new friends. good friends, not meatheads who didn’t know their asses from their elbows. he hoped at least one person in that house was capable, sighing quietly to himself as he unenthusiastically approached the house with you. a guy waved at you, you waved back with a giggle as another set his drink down, announcing to the other guys that “y/n was here”. oh, so you were just a slut then. you don’t know what people could be going through, so be nice. he rolled his eyes internally, feeling slightly guilty with his thoughts as a red plastic cup is thrust into his chest by someone he’d found familiar, looking up to meet william’s eyes, his stone face cracking into a smile. he hadn’t even noticed the way you’d slipped away from him, chatting with some guy who stood shirtless with a concoction of different liquors that made him blink too slowly, constantly shifting from foot to foot to maintain his balance.

“what happened to not wanting to join us?” his friend asks as mark takes the cup into his hand, smelling the contents of the drink before he decides not to put it to his lips. it was way too early to day drink, he hadn’t even put his backpack down yet, “changed my mind, dad was on my ass about it, i just didn’t want the headache when i go visit.” he shrugged, eyes wondering over to you, watching as you let that guy hug you from behind, a strange feeling bubbling up in his gut. he wasn’t sure if he felt shame or disappointment that you hadn’t stayed with him, no longer worried about how weird it would have looked to walk around with you intoxicated. he looks away before your eyes meet his again, attention shifting back to william and whatever he had been babbling on about before he’d started daydreaming. “…and that’s why- mark? are you listening?” william snapped his fingers at him, shaking him out of his absent looking gaze. william looks behind him, in the direction mark had been staring in, slowly nodding his head with an eyebrow lifted when he looks back at mark again, “oh, right. i get it.” he smirks, mark’s red tinted cheeks being confirmation. “shut up, she only bought me here ‘cause you weren’t answering your texts.” he retorts, shaking his head when william gives him a knowing look.

that was the first day he’d met you. mark didn’t go to the party that night, much to your disappointment. instead, you spent the night in the lap of one of the jocks you’d settled on as a compromise, swigging back shots of vodka and rejecting his advances. he had a tiny cock anyway, you’d seen it before when one of the girls in your sorority received a picture of his dick and squealed about how gross the foreskin looked. you weren’t gonna fuck this guy, partly because you didn’t feel like it and partly because you were disappointed that you hadn’t gotten to see more of mark. you’d see him around campus, catch him staring at you outside sometimes. every interaction was short lived, always being shut down by him. hard to get was by far your least favourite game and there was no way mark would be able to resist someone like you! this had to be the twilight zone or something.

you’d tried everything at this point, low cut shirts with short skirts that exposed the bottom of your butt, shorts that should class as panties with how they barely classed as shorts, bikinis, standing outside his frat house while he was in it and being sprayed by beer in a wet t shirt contest, the works!! you had never been so offended, he just acted as if he didn’t even see you! it’s been four months now, four months of being basically celibate due to your petty “if he cant take me, nobody will have me” mentality. god, you were acting desperate. it embarrassed you, you hated working hard for things that should come as easy as one, two and three. while you thought your attention seeking streak was getting you nowhere, mark’s brain was going into overdrive.

“i just don’t get why you’re so… worked up about it.” william says as he sips from his mug that held coffee - the irish kind since he had a migraine from yesterday’s party and felt the only way to recover was to drink more - sitting with his leg crossed over the other on the sofa with mark who typed away on his laptop, “worked up? worked up?” mark repeated, never looking up from his screen, “come on. i’m sure she didn’t mean it-“ william began, sentence cut short by mark slamming his laptop down, getting up from the couch to put it on the kitchen isle, eyebrows furrowed. he was talking about how you’d ‘accidentally’ taken his jacket instead of yours and when he’d asked for it the morning after, you’d sent one of your sorority minions outside to tell him that they had no clue where the jacket or you was- only to see you walking around campus in it like it belonged to you a minute later, returning to the sorority house with drinks in a little black plastic bag. he had to walk back in the rain, his shirt soaked and blood boiling. yes, the jacket wasn’t a big deal. what william didn’t know was that he was mad because for the last few weeks, you’d been at the parties he’d been at. not only that but you’d always have a different guy all over you, always looking over to him, almost like you were doing it on purpose.

“yeah sure, i’m sure she didn’t mean to spill her drink all over me last week and steal my jacket yesterday, y’know, the one i needed to get home in the rain… oh, i’m sure she didn’t mean to break the fucking tv- the only one we have, when she came over for beer-pong.” mark spits back, pinching the space between his eyes with his index and thumb. william rolls his eyes, sipping away at his coffee without a care in the world. “and i’m sure she didn’t mean to make me miss nearly all of my classes.” he finishes, which makes william turn his head towards him with a smile, “oh, i’m sure y/n physically kept you from going to class.” william tuts, standing up and walking out of the room, “last time i checked, she doesn’t even go here…!” he said as he walked off, refusing to argue with mark. william was right, you hadn’t stopped him from attending classes. he’d just become a little obsessed maybe, wanted to keep an eye on you just in case. mark could only think back to the first day he’d met you, how you’d been drunk from before noon and how you looked like you needed help, how his mother’s words buzzed around in his head… he still hung onto that, taking himself up as your personal guardian angel without your knowledge.

you open your phone when you leave the shower, whatever music that had been playing through it stopping as you pressed pause to focus on the words on your screen:

william🤞

prty @ 242 6pm. bring back his jacket 🙄

you tilt your head slightly before you remember what he’s talking about. you dry your hands, opening your phone to respond,

y/n

omw ❤️

is all you type, not bothering to look at the notification that made your phone buzz before you rush to your little vanity, ready to doll yourself up for the evening and throw on some clothes, pairing them with the jacket you’d now have to return. you get an influx of messages on your phone suddenly, the group chat of the girls in your sorority letting you know that they’d also be attending, emojis and gifs and reaction images galore as you scroll through your phone. the girls wanted to go colour coordinated, all in the same pink miniskirts and black tank tops. you, however, wore a black miniskirt with a pink tank top, just to differentiate yourself from the rest of your hive. you didn’t remember exactly when you’d gotten william’s number but he was useful at times. plus, you thought he was pretty fun to hang around with! that, and the fact that he was mark’s best friend.

when you get to the OOA house music is already blaring and some of the boys are already sat out on the porch, some members of your sorority had shown up a few minutes prior. probably the new girls, you think, knowing the other girls wouldn’t make a mistake as grave as showing up earlier than you. for once, you’re gonna let it go. you were in a good mood today, felt like you were finally going to get your hands all over that slippery prick. you didn’t know why you had your sights set on him, you could be with literally anyone else. you told yourself it was pride, he’d offended you by rejecting you. pretty girls never knew when to quit, especially the rich and spoiled ones like yourself. you made heads turn towards you, as per usual. compliments flooded into your ears, dry “thank you”’s and “aww you’re so cute”’s leaving your mouth, hiding the scowl you had plastered under your perfect demeanour.

you scanned the room, looking for one person in particular, pushing away drinks that had been offered to you before you decided to just give up, plopping yourself down on the same sofa mark had been typing his essay on hours prior, finally giving in when william approaches you, swaying a little as he walked, already wasted by the looks of it. you put on a fake smile, trying to stop yourself from having a full on temper tantrum over not being able to find the guy you’d gotten all dressed up for, wearing his jacket, having no fun at the party his frat house was throwing. william opens his mouth before closing it again like a fish, trying to find his words, “y-you came..!” he speaks loudly, placing his cup on the coffee table in front of you, already littered with other people’s drinks as he throws his arms around you in a hug, “duh, it’s not a party til i’m here.” you say, your friendly tone threatening to falter as you looked down at your nails, observing them as if they had better things going on. you return his drunken embrace, giggling when he accidentally spills his drink on himself.

“you bought it, good..! you wouldn’t believe his b-..b-bitching- earlier-“ he covers his mouth with his hand to stop himself from burping at the last part of his sentence, gesturing towards the jacket you had draped over your shoulders to which you nod and smile, patience wearing thin. if william was here then where the fuck was mark? you wanted to ask him where the rest of him was, though didn’t think he’d understand as fast in his drunken state. tipsy wasn’t even the word. “it just looked so similar to mine, ha!” you lied, finally taking one of the empty cups out of the plastic sleeve and helping yourself to the bottle of vodka that stood in the middle, pouring orange juice straight into it afterwards to try and mask the sharp taste. william laughs, you drink.

“actually- he’s upstairs. studying or whate-ever.” william points to the ceiling, brushing some of his hair out of his face, “i can go give it to him if you like-“ and just like his conversation with mark earlier, he’s cut off short again by you springing up with a no, forgetting about your drink as it spilled over the rim, the whole thing splashing over your shirt. you gasp and squeak, william tries to stifle a loud laugh that would’ve bought all of the attention to you. even while drunk he knew not to put his reputation on the line, and his reputation he did kind of value. nobody wanted to draw unnecessary attention to you, the last person who had done that had been trashed so badly they had to move out of the state after a few months of non stop rumours. you sigh, defeated as you pick up someone’s jumper - they shouldn’t have left it out in the first place if they didn’t want you to use it as a cloth - and trying to soak all of the alcohol out of the black fabric. “bathroom upstairs- mark’s in the room to the r-right— ugh, i’m gonna throw up,” william says as he retches, cheeks puffing out before he takes his leave, sprinting into the back garden to puke in a plant pot. a few more compliments, you’re flirted with by a guy for like five minutes, you take a few more swigs of someone else’s drink and you’re headed upstairs, looking for the bathroom and hoping nobody had started fucking in there so you could act out your ever developing plan.

your eyes lit up when you successfully pushed the door and it wasn’t locked, closing it behind you and twisting the latch so nobody would intrude on you. lifting your shirt over your head, you’re careful to not let the fabric ruin your makeup. the next thing that’s discarded is your bra, winking at yourself in the mirror and jiggling your boobs experimentally, making sure your girls looked their best. you then put mark’s jacket on, sleeves coming past your hands as the hem just barely missed your knees. you didn’t hang out or interact with him often, you never get the chance and it’s frustrating, but you’re reminded of the potential size difference between you and him when you put on his jacket. showtime. if this didn’t get you laid tonight, you’d have to get a new name and move out of the COUNTRY out of embarrassment of coming off as desperate. to the right, a door that had large posters on the surface, some stickers peeled away and faded from years of being piled up on the door. a sock on the handle. no fucking way.

this had never happened before. nobody had ever wanted to fuck someone else before sticking it in you. you wanted to scream, rip your hair out and stomp your feet until you fell through the fucking ceiling. this wasn’t fucking happening, the boy you’d had your eyes on was not fucking another girl in this room. you saw red, the reality of not getting your way this time hitting you hard, your hand flying to the handle to twist it open, ready to have a cat fight if necessary. you felt like a steaming bull, felt like steam was coming out of your nose and ears cartoonishly. you didn’t even know what you were gonna do when you saw him and whoever the fuck that stupid bitch was, all you knew was that you hadn’t gotten what you wanted and it was time to let everyone know that.

you’re ready to bite his head off, both of them, blind rage taking over before you lay your eyes on the sight in front of you. he sat with his legs open, pants at his ankles with his head thrown back momentarily, hand going up and down between his thighs with his other hand holding up his shirt before he’s shuffling to cover himself, wide eyed and cursing with his cute face all beet red. “o-out..! get out-!” he stutters, voice cracking as he rushes to close the door, traping you behind it again. you’re stunned, never seen anything so… erotic before. you wished he wore shorts, the way his toned thighs flinched and tensed made you want to slide yourself up and down them, the small snippet of his abs you wished you’d had a longer look at before being blocked from entering… why’d he hide his body away for so long you’d never know. oh how you wished you’d seen his dick, imagining it made your mouth water. you shake your head, clearing your mind to prevent it from clouding with thoughts of lust, you couldn’t have your pussy leaking just yet. were you really so desperate for dick that you’d get wet without even seeing it? just the mental image of him, lip tugged between his teeth, pleasured expression barely visible? get your act together, you thought, breathing heavily before steadying yourself, standing up straight and knocking on his door.

“maaaarrrrkk…” you whine loudly, fist slamming against the posters, “i didn’t see anything, i swear..! but… i also won’t tell anyone if you let me in.” you offer teasingly, smiling wide when you heard a loud groan from the other side, followed by loud footsteps, followed by the door swinging open, mark avoiding your gaze with gritted teeth. he also wasn’t stupid, also had a reputation to keep squeaky clean. he’d had enough of you. for real, this time. he had enough of how you were the bitch who could make or break him if he ever slighted you in any way, had enough of the way you taunted him from afar, had enough of your complete and utter rudeness - who the hell even barges in when there’s a sock on the door? - he’d just had enough. he stood there, arms crossed as you took in your surroundings, blue and yellow scheme familiar to the clothes he wore... then it hit you, this was mark’s room. it wasn’t weird to have people living at a frat house, some people owned them. you wondered how he felt having to listen to music and people yelling and drinking all night, though that thought was quickly brushed away by mark’s voice,

“that’s mine.” he says bluntly, cheeks still pink as he points to his jacket that you wore, still standing at the door like some sort of bouncer. you nod, closing the door behind you and ignoring his words, “nice room y’got… seance dog? how old are you?” you joke, helping yourself to the shelf where stacked comic books stood, picking one up and flicking through it. mark walked towards you, snatching it out of your hands and putting it back, “again, that’s mine. i want my jacket back, y/n. then you should leave.” he spoke matter-of-factly, glaring at you for a second as you rolled your eyes, sitting on his bed and making yourself at home. “ugh, you’re still mad about it? i’m sorry we have the same jacket. i was drunk! fuck, man.” you shoot a glare back, yours with a grin. he’s had enough. he was at his boiling point, red hot rage was about to start bubbling over and you were the person he didn’t really want to take it out on. “y/n, i’m not gonna tell you again.” he warns, scowling at you as he approaches, fists balled up into his hands. this was probably the part of him people could most see his father in, his expression when he got angry. it didn’t scare you, it made you want to tease him more. so he thought he could intimidate you? he had another thing coming.

“you can’t make me. i’ll scream, you want everyone to come rushing up here?” you wouldn’t, you were only teasing. like a bolt of lightning, he’s tugging the zip of his jacket down, attempting to take it off of you and kick you out himself. you grabbed onto the zipper, trying to block his hands away from zipping it down any further, “taking back my shit and you can get the fuck out of here-“ he muttered, ignoring your sounds of protest, “mark— stop it, i’ll go i just-“ he doesn’t care, he’s trying to force your hands away, slapping at them and trying to restrain them to your sides, “shut up, shut the fuck up, give me back my fucking jacket, now—! you’re a liar, your jacket is hot-fucking-pink!” he’s more violent, grabbing the front and damn near shaking you around, your legs trying to kick him away, “m-mark, please-! stop, stop it!” there’s almost tears in your ears as you try to fight him off, remembering how you’d taken off your shirt and left it in the bathroom, with your bra.

mark couldn’t care less about his jacket or if it would be ruined, it was about the principle. more pulling, more trying to hold your hands away, more grabbing the jacket and trying to pull it off before— schzzzzt. fuck. the zipper popped, your protests stopped and mark’s huffs calmed down, eyes settling on your bare chest. tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked up at him, not expecting to have his eyes meet yours. he looks pissed, he’s had enough of you. right now, mark didn’t give a shit about what you were going through, didn’t care about being nice. you’d tipped him over, now he’s really annoyed with you. “mark,” you shuffle away, jumping with a surprised gasp when you feel his hands wrap around your ankles and pull you back to your place, the action making your skirt and his duvet catch on each other, hiking your skirt up to expose your underwear. it was like he wasn’t even looking at your body, keeping his eyes on yours at all times. you open your mouth again and his hand flies to your face, covering your mouth to prevent you from talking at all. now you’re scared, now you’re intimidated. so scared, yet your stomach flipped and your cunt fluttered around nothing when he silenced you with his palm.

“shut up, you bitch.” he snarled, tightening his grip on your face by pushing your cheeks together. it almost hurt, almost. mark shook his head, “what’s wrong with you? you wanna make me mad? for fucks sake—“ his words make your clit throb, your thighs slowly shifting to meet each other so you could move your hips around and get yourself off a little. this was hot, mark was serious. “you’re gonna scream? what the fuck, y/n, what the fuck is your problem!?” you’re wet. fuck, you’re wet and you’re being yelled at. this was the shit you’d see in porn, but for real. no acting, just a coincidence. when he lets you go to get off of you, he finally lets himself catch a glimpse of the wet spot that’s forming in your panties. he should’ve never looked, now he’s caught a sneak of your tits. the noise he makes is halfway between a groan and a sarcastic chuckle, pushing his hair back with the same hand he used to cover your mouth, “now you’re gonna go and leak all over my bed? after trying to go through my stuff?” mark can’t ignore the way his cock strains in his pants, the way it twitches as he glances over you again. any normal person would’ve ran out of his room, trying to cover themselves with the broken jacket and probably never speak to him again. then again, you weren’t a normal person, you were rich. hadn’t ever been told no or been scolded like this before or at all for that matter. you were truly stunned, felt like a deer in headlights.

“m’sorry, sorry..” you finally peep, sniffing as tears dripped down your face. he groaned, clearly annoyed by your antics now, “now you’re gonna cry? now you’re crying, you did this. stop crying, they’re not real tears.” he spits and you obey, quickly wiping your face, black streaks of mascara on your hands as well as your face. fuck, you looked gorgeous like this. you clearly wanted it. you didn’t look like you did, if anyone had burst through like you had earlier they’d definitely get the wrong idea - the worst idea - the kind of idea that stops you from getting a job in your desired field in the future if interpreted the wrong way. mark swallowed thickly. “y’gonna scream?” he asks and you shake your head no without even processing the question, looking up at him with big wide eyes.

you’re on your stomach, clawing at the bedsheets and messing up the way he’d made his bed this morning, face being pressed into a pillow by a heavy hand, mark’s hand. he’s thrusting into you, hips crashing violently against yours over and over again, got your legs trapped between his as he’s using you like you’re a toy, his other hand gripping onto the fat of your ass to help the momentum of his thrusts. your moans are muffled, drool seeping from the corner of your mouth and onto his pillow as you kept your head pressed into the soft cotton pillow, taking in his scent. god, he was jabbing right against your cervix and you let out a particularly loud whine which makes the brute above you lean in to you, his chest pressing against your back so he could talk into your ear meanly, “what’s that? i can’t. fucking. understand. you.” he punctuated each word with a sharp jab into your g-spot, your wrists aching from how hard you were grabbing around at the sheets. he knew you hadn’t said anything, just wanted to tease you like you’d teased him. he’d stripped you naked before you were taking his cock so deliciously right now, tearing your panties off and shaking you out of his jacket which laid beside you. now this was worth playing the hard to get game.

“hey, y/n? you wanna scream?” mark said, sweat beading at his temples as he moaned when he felt your gummy walls close in on him with his words. you shake your head, an almost inaudible ‘no’ coming from the pillow before his arm is hooked around your neck, lifting you up. this new position made you arch your back, leaving you in a dreamy daze as your eyes adjusted to the light of the room again after having your head forced down for so long, “i said, you wanna scream?” he repeats, you shake your head, “n-no-! no, m’m-sorry fuck, mark, i’m sorry—!” you squeal, voice hoarse as he tightens his arm, putting you in a headlock and moving his other hand to your stomach to hold you in place. he was moving so fast, his fat dick throbbed and stretched and rubbed against allll the right places. no other boy had fucked you til your head spun, made you feel so defenceless and inferior… you’d never been filled up this good, you’d been choked, sure - but a headlock? your cunt gripped him tightly, vision dotting as your body shook violently in his grasp, his fingers now swiping over your hard little clit, making you try to stifle the loud half scream of his name somehow, biting your lip with your eyes rolling into the back of your skull.

“that’s fucking nasty.” he moaned, watching as you sprayed all over his sheets with your body convulsing, hissing when your pussy started to milk him vigorously as you came. he didn’t stop, only let go of you and watched as you thumped onto the bed weakly, trying to lift yourself up before he’s drilling you with his cock again. you’re hardly responsive, body still twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm, not even noticing how you’d laid in your own release until you blinked a few times, the feeling finally coming back into your body that mark had knocked numb for a second, “p-please-“ you gasped out, hand reaching down to tap at his thigh. he swiped it away, grabbing your wrist and jerking your body back to meet his, obsessed with the way your bodies made smacking sounds when he snapped his pelvis into your rear. “you gonna bother me again after this? look at you, you’re lying in your own mess- oh fuck, keep tightening like that—“ he growls into your ear, balls slapping against your sensitive clit from behind. you couldn’t think, your thoughts being fucked out of your brain with every rough jab to your cervix, words forming and failing to put them together into understandable sentences. he’s just as blissed out, his anger had faded forever ago, replaced by a carnal urge to just fuck, keep plunging himself in and out of your weeping cunt.

you whine when he pulls out with a pop, lines of your slick coating his cockhead and sticking to it before they snapped and dribbled down onto the soaked sheets below you, his hands grabbing your waist so he could flip you onto your back this time, taking you by surprise and finally waking you up out of whatever dreamy daze you’d been in. this is just how you felt earlier but better, you were scared of him sure but you’ve never been so turned on, you’d never had someone defy you before, you asked for a pony when you were younger and threatened a tantrum which got you your pony, your parents would rather give you whatever you wanted instead of saying a simple no. you stare up at him, he stares down at you. call you crazy, maybe you were finally being put in your place, but having someone hover over you like this, possessive and firm, made you feel as if you had no power at all. mark didn’t care about who you were or what you could do to ruin him anymore, especially since he’d already ruined you. mascara streaked down the sides and front of your face which made tracks in your foundation, your lipstick had been smudged from having your face pressed into the pillow for so long and you were pretty sure you were missing an eyelash (which you were; stuck to the bedsheets and twisted and ruined, you’d have to buy another pair).

mark grabs one of your legs with his hands, pulling you close to him as he leaned in, body pushing your knee up to your shoulder albeit a little painfully, eliciting an uncomfortable mewl from you in the process. you felt as if you couldn’t talk, if you opened your mouth you’d die or something. you’d taken mark for a virgin what with the way he awkwardly shuffled his feet when you spoke to him, the way he never picked up on or wanted to pursue your advances. “don’t look at me like that.” he grits, eyebrows furrowing at the way you pouted at him. you hadn’t even noticed but now you’ve made him mad so now he’s pushing into you again, spearing you open on his dick wet with your slick, your expression changing as you raised your brows, eyes squeezed shut with your mouth hanging open like you were trying to catch flies. he moves his hands, hooking them under your knees so he could pull you back and forth against himself, cock throbbing and begging for release when you start tightening again, lewd gasps and moans coming from your spit slicked and ruined lipstick lips. he can’t stand you, can’t stand the way you’re moaning and trying to say his name while having all knowledge knocked out of you over and over again with stabs repeatedly hitting that same sensitive spot with brutal thrusts, hoping your hips didn’t break every time his crashed into yours.

then, a moment of weakness, “am i pretty?” you ask between whines, small and timid like a rabbit. he’s broken out of his current demeanour, tilting his head. mark feared he’d falter, he’d already given you what you wanted by using you like you were nothing but a warm crevice to slide his cock into. you already knew you were pretty, you just needed to hear it from him. needed to hear it from the guy you’d been chasing for months since you’d stumbled upon him, needed to have confirmation that he was attracted to you. his thrusts almost slow down - almost - before he nods, biting his lip to stop the groan that wanted to respond, “y-yeah, pretty..” mark finally mumbles, hips stuttering as the warm coil that tightened in his stomach threatened to snap. you could feel it too, you could feel the way his cock throbbed, the way the head twitched when it pressed against your cervix every time mark canted his hips up into yours, stretching your pussy around him, churning up your insides so they could only think of him. “pretty, really pretty…” he babbles as he tries to keep his thrusts steady, “also p-pretty fucking mean, stupid…” he continues, trying to ignore the way a pleasured shock creeped up his spine and made his legs shake like yours had before.

you were going to cum again, you could feel it. familiar tingles and twinges picking at you before you felt it fully, the mind numbing sensation of an orgasm being fucked out of you again. mark isn’t any better, chasing his own pleasure with his head tilted back steady “hah, hah, hah”’s slipping out of his mouth. working for stuff really was fun sometimes, even if you had to wait a while to get it. you’re lost, back arching up off of the bed with your waist subtly moving in time with his, catching small hazy blinks of him before his face is closer to yours, not even waiting to kiss you. his tongue is bigger than yours, as with the rest of him, completely pushing your tongue away as he kisses into your mouth, muffling both of your sounds as his thrusts became more and more uneven. he’s cumming, hard and fast and with no consideration whether you were on birth control or not, painting your pink walls with his white cum and leaving his mark deep inside you, seeping into your womb with thick globs. you came as soon as he did, dry this time, arms flailing to grab onto his back to anchor yourself. your cunt squeezed around him, trying to milk all of his release into you. you weren’t on the pill but you didn’t care, you could always get that sorted later.

mark didn’t pull out, huffing slightly as he came back to, blinking at your shaking form below him. if it had been porn, he’d feel bad, close the tab and ignore his post nut clarity. this time, even with all of the thoughts in his head telling him that he’d just broken you down, used you like you were disposable, he couldn’t help but feel accomplished. you might’ve won by getting him to fuck you but he’s won the ice cold heart of the mean bitch that’s now laying in her own squirt on his bed, twitching every now and again to show how much you’d enjoyed it. he sighs, shaking his head and pulls out of you, watching for a second as his cum slowly starts to spill out of your aching pussy, ruining his bedsheets even further, “you still here..?” he asks, looking over at you before he’s headed back over to where he’d stripped off all of his clothes, quickly dressing himself back up as he puts his boxers back on, sliding his jeans back up his legs and looking over at your limp body on his bed. you don’t respond with words, only a faint nod, your body still swimming in the warmth that you’d been pushed into by mark. you could feel the way his cum dribbled out of you messily, leaking down your lower half and soaking up the sheets even further.

you’re pulled from your bliss with mark’s words, unexpected and apologetic, “want me to clean you up?” and you melt, nodded with a small ‘uh-huh’ as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him and knocking the sock off in the process. he’d return a moment later, towel in hand with one corner wet with warm water, patting you down gently, stark contrast to how he was just a minute ago. mark wasn’t mean but he’d tried to be nice and nice just wasn’t working for him - wasn’t working for you - so he had to show you how mean he could really be, had to counteract you somehow. you flinched when he started wiping your cunt, hissing when he bumped against your overly sensitive clit with the towel. he muttered a small sorry, drying you up and leaving once more, the sounds of the music from downstairs louder for a second before the door is closed, louder again and then muffled when he comes back with your shirt and bra, tossing it to your side. he avoided your gaze, absently fiddling around with something in the corner of his room, waiting for you to put your clothes back on. you get the memo, pulling your shirt over your head and reaching out for his jacket before you backed away from it, remembering that you’d come here to return the thing.

as you stood up to look around for your underwear and skirt, your thighs twitch as you feel his cum leaking between your legs, trickling down slowly. you could clean up properly later, sliding your panties and the skirt back to where they had left. “look,” he started, turning your attention towards him, “you can have it. just.. bring it back on saturday. there’s another party or something, ask william.” mark turns to you, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. you perk up as you clasp the strap to your heels back on, legs feeling like jelly as you moved to face him. you nod with a smile, eyes bright and sparkling like he’d just told you you’d won a billion dollars, “saturday, same time?” you ask, walking towards the door and resting your hand on the doorknob. mark hums at you, a silent yes. you take your leave, his broken jacket draped over your shoulders again as you make your way to the front door, ready to leave so you could go back to the dorm room you weren’t supposed to live in and sleep the next few days away. you couldn’t wait to party at house 242 again.

mark watched you walk away from the porch, your hands in his jacket’s pockets, the material swallowing you up to keep you warm. he shook his head, once again pinching the skin between his eyes, grabbing himself a clean towel so he could shower and fall asleep to the music that blared underneath him. mark thought he’d had enough of you.

now, he couldn’t get enough.

[serendipnpipity]

My phredictions for Phride Month 2024...

Dan wears a wig. Mostly cuz I'm holding out for dnp drag and didn't he mention this recently?

DINOK trailer drops on Dan's birthday.

Thomas Sanders collab. No real reason, just vibes 💖

.... next... ?? is a dnp-designed video game from the makers of Dragon City

Dab and Evan adopt a child. Or a dog.

Dan and Phil adopt a dog.

They do a livestream for Dan's birthday, and one of them accidentally phard phaunches à la 2015-coming-out-fic.

They get mentioned in mainstream media for a reason OTHER THAN a phard phaunch.

Breakup-themed clickbait title. Bonus points if this is the phard phaunch.

They do not phard phaunch. They do nothing at all out of the ordinary for June. The gays are sad.

Phride 2024 Bingo Card!

[exhuastedpigeon]

Buddie Hiatus Fic Rec Oct 16 - Nov 15

yet another list full of some of the most amazing fics I've read. It's wild how talented the writers in this fandom are.

0-5k

take control (mind, body, and soul) by honestlydarkprincess / @honestlydarkprincess Explicit | 2k the one where human Buck wants his vampire boyfriend to compel him during sex. They get nasty with it.

think about all the places we could go by hammersmiths / @henswilsons Teen | 2.4k Athena just looks grieved. “Why, then,” she says, “did you get military-grade handcuffs? Were the pink fuzzy ones not macho enough for you?”

blackout by rainbow_nerds / @rainbow-nerdss Explicit | 3.4k Buck wakes up hungover on Eddie's couch, with no memory of the night before. Eddie's at just as much of a loss as he is, but their friends seem to know something they don't.

The One with the Admissions by BekkaChaos / @bekkachaos Mature | 4.4k After an accidental slip up from Eddie, he's forced to admit that he's dating someone, but he and Buck are still determined to keep their relationship between the two of them. Things do not go smoothly, hidden thoughts and feelings are revealed, and Buck and Eddie have a short lived argument about their relationship.

5k-10k

you saw me (i got nowhere to hide) by buckleyseddie / @buckleyseddieTeen | 5.6k while Buck’s in a coma, Maddie finds herself at the loft one afternoon. There, she finds a heartbroken Eddie and they have a moment.

Out Of Order, Still In Line by callmenewbie / @puppyboybuckley Explicit | 6.2k When Buck finally gets to the Clinic, the long awaited release doesn’t seem to come; cue Eddie to the rescue.

if you go down in the woods today by oklahoma / @sunshinediaz Teen | 6.3k bad things happen bingo—tranquilizer dart (this fic lives rent free in my head. Amanda you’re a genius) 

i have dreams where i kiss you and it’s pink by fleetinghearts / @shitouttabuckTeen | 6.3k jee-yun buckley-han's third birthday party is in dire need of some fairy tale magic and buck's attempt to save the day might just be the thing that finally kills eddie

swinging for the fences by inbetweenthestacks / @organizedstardust Teen | 6.4k Buck takes Eddie to a baseball game. (this fic has a line “Is baseball just…math?” that make me laugh so hard)

You, all the way down by justhockey Not rated | 8.3k Suddenly, between one moment and the next, there are hands on him. Hands that Buck would know anywhere; hands that Buck knows maybe even better than he knows his own. The touch is exquisitely gentle - tender to the point of devastation, even though the calloused palms scratch against the soft skin of his cheeks.

It’s Eddie, because of course it is. Because who else would it be.

i'd swim to your call on my phone by heartbeatdiaz / @loserdiaz Teen | 8.5k Buck's daughter keeps calling 9-1-1 for help with her homework, Eddie is smitten and apparently 9-1-1 works better than Tinder.

10k-20k

Got Weird by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Explicit | 10.5k Shortly after Buck and Natalia break up, Eddie gets tipsy and makes a rather forward move. Then immediately panics (not that Eddie panics, of course) and backpedals. Eddie spirals, Buck is confused. Lots of spontaneous kissing ensues.

aching for anything by addandsubtract / @postoperation Explicit | 11.3k “Here,” Hen says, holding out a covered paper cup, steam gently wafting from the mouth opening. “It’s lemon ginger tea. I know you said you’re not getting sick, but you don’t sound great.”

Buck takes the cup and holds it up to his nose, saying, “I’m really fine.”

Hen’s pointedly raised eyebrows are all skepticism.

past the curses and cries (there's me and you) by MonsterRae1 / @monsterrae1 Mature | 11.3k Buck's a witch, Eddie's cursed, can I make it any more obvious?

30k +

remember to remember me by Daffi_990_ao3 / @daffi-990 Explicit | 31.4k

Buck and Eddie finally get together only for lightning to strike a few days later, leaving Buck with no memories of them ever becoming a couple.

Don't They Know It's the End of the World? by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Mature | 32.4k After being put in a cryogenic sleep for over a hundred years to wait out an apocalyptic event, Eddie Diaz wakes up, too early, to find his son has been stolen from his cryo-chamber. Scared and alone in a frightening world he doesn't recognize, Eddie is willing to do anything to get his kid back.

blue eyes and bare walls by Underhung_Aura / @eddiebabygirldiaz Explicit | 45.8k Buck and Eddie are newlyweds and looking to paint their new bedroom. What ensues is the butting of heads, some arguing of both the fun and not fun variety, and desperate paint-filled sex on the floor.

Feels Like Magic by 42hrb Teen | 47.8k An urban fantasy AU where most things are the same, except there's magic

the blue house by ProsperDemeter / @prosperdemeter2 Mature  | 65k Eddie Diaz wants nothing to do with the paranormal. He would be perfectly happy if the spirits of the world stopped showing themselves altogether, actually. But when Adriana and Sophia come to town to film on location for their popular YouTube ghost hunting channel and the ghosts in Eddie's life start becoming much more loud and frequent, he gets roped into figuring out just why things in the Los Angeles spiritual world are changing, and not for the better. The children are crying, and Eddie might be the only one who can hear them.

Your Love is an Oil Slick (It Glows like Rainbows, It Stains My Soul) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels / @letmetellyouaboutmyfeelsExplicit | 67.1k When Eddie's son claims he has an imaginary friend, Eddie doesn't think much of it. Christopher is seven, it's what kids do. But then weird things start happening around the house, and Eddie starts dreaming about a handsome blue-eyed man. Turns out, Christopher's friend isn't so imaginary. Their house is haunted.

Month 1 (May 15 - June 15) Month 2 (June 16 - July 15) Month 3 (July 16 - August 15) Month 4 (August 16 - September 15) Month 5 (September 16 - October 15)

[swissboyhisch]

My Princess

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x Princess!Reader

Summary: Being the Princess of Australia has its perks. Like being able to bring your best friend's sport to your country letting you reunite with your favourite person in the world.

Word Count: 2233

Warnings: Royalty AU, slight mention of alcohol (I think, tbh I can't remember)

A/N: This is for one of my favs @mp0625's Birthday Bingo. Sorry it's a little late but I kind of got away with this fic. I really hope you enjoy this because I enjoyed writing it! I hope you had an amazing birthday <3

My choice of five bingo boxes were (middle column):

Fan of another sport

Royalty AU

Free Square (Choice - Reuniting)

Childhood Friends

It’s raining (men)

I really hope you enjoy this! I'm really happy how this turned out :)

*after posting this and getting some anons, I just want to state I KNOW Australia have an ice hockey league. I am from Australia. I follow the two leagues, I go to games, I have jerseys. Just because it isn’t mentioned doesn’t mean I don’t know. This is an AU based around the Global series. Which did happen and was the coyotes vs kings which I WENT to IN PERSON. You don’t have to send me anons. I get it*

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Being the Princess of Australia was pretty amazing. You got to travel the world with your mother and older brother, meet amazing people (and not-so-amazing ones). You got nice clothes and did things many others your age couldn’t. You and your family were loved by the people of Australia.

When you were a kid, you had a trip to Russia. Your parents were on a political visit, and you had to go along with them. This is one of your favourite memories from childhood. Your family was shown around Moscow, and you accidentally bumped into a boy not much older than you on the street. While your parents were busy talking to other adults, you and the boy, who introduced himself as Andrei, talked and ran around together. When it was time to go, you begged your parents to ask if the pair of you could write to each other.

As you both grew up, the letters turned into emails, then messages, calls, and FaceTimes whenever the time zones allowed it. Even once he moved to Michigan for hockey, you talked whenever you could.

One of the perks of being part of the Royal family was having a say in which events came to Perth. When whispers of the NHL bringing the Global Series to Australia started, you advocated for Perth to be the city of choice. When you turned up to the meeting in Melbourne with the NHL officials, you mentioned how much you liked hockey and that Perth would show the NHL a good time. The first green light was for Perth to host the weekend event.

Your mother thought this would be a good event for you to take charge of since you were so passionate about hockey—your second passion after AFL, of course (not that you’d tell Andrei that). You took charge of organising everything for the event with the help of the city’s major event organisers.

Through the journey of organising the weekend, you advocated for the Carolina Hurricanes to be one of the teams. If the Canes were the main choice, then the most exciting game would be against the New York Rangers. The more intense a rivalry, the more likely people would be enticed to watch a sport they’d never seen.

You still remember the call with Andrei when you got the confirmation about the teams being the Canes and the Rangers. It was after dinner when you FaceTimed Andrei, who was in New York for a game.

“How’s it going, Princess?” Andrei grinned when he answered the call.

You were bouncing off the walls of your apartment in the palace. He could see you beaming. “It’s confirmed!”

“What’s confirmed?”

“You’re coming to Perth!” you squealed.

Andrei was confused. “I’m what?”

“The Global Series is coming to Perth,” you elaborated, “and the Canes are one of the teams.”

“I’m going to see you?!” Andrei asked, tears welling up as it had been a year since you had seen each other. The last time was the All-Star game when you flew out to support him. “Oh my god, I can’t wait! When?”

“September,” you answered.

“That’s like six months away!”

When the week finally arrived, you were ecstatic. Only all the years of Royalty training could mask the happiness you felt. You and your personnel were tucked away out of sight unless you were walking in from a specific plane—the one carrying all the hockey players and staff. One by one, the familiar faces of the Canes passed by where you were standing.

“Hello, Your Highness,” Aho grinned when he recognized you standing by the exit of the tunnel.

You laughed at the boy, “Hi Fishy, how are you?”

“Better now that Svech will stop bouncing,” he replied, standing near you facing his teammates coming out, waiting for his teammate. “Look who’s coming.”

Lifting yourself on your tiptoes to see over the other six-foot-plus player, you spied the familiar Russian, bouncing foot to foot in excitement.

“Gee, Princess,” Mickey, one of your guards, laughed.

As soon as Andrei got within reaching distance, you ran for him, launching yourself at him. The two of you were wrapped up in each other, both with tears running down your faces.

“I’ve missed you, Princess,” Andrei whispered.

“I missed you too.”

You tagged along with the teams to their hotel, one of the best in the city. Your mother had decided to host the teams at one of your family’s favourite restaurants, a rooftop bar overlooking the gorgeous Scarborough Beach. You had a change of clothes in the car, knowing you’d be going from one place to another without returning to the palace.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” Andrei grinned as he watched you come out of the bathroom.

“You mean you’re here,” you smirked as you slipped in your earrings once more.

Andrei travelled with you and your security from the hotel to the restaurant. The rest of the team and staff took a bus. Your mother, older brother, and his long-term girlfriend would meet you at the restaurant, which was hired out for the night.

“How’s your family?” Andrei asked as you both stepped out of the car after one of the guards.

“You’ll see them in a sec,” you laughed, intertwining your fingers with his.

The pair beat the buses to the restaurant, so they went up to meet your mom and brother. Your security stayed by the entrance as there was already security posted around the restaurant.

“Andrei Svechnikov,” your mom smiled when she saw you two nearing. “It’s lovely to see you thriving in the league.”

“Your Majesty,” Andrei grinned, bowing and knowing the protocols.

“We’ve missed you around here,” your mom admitted.

Your brother stepped up, cutting in, “Some more than others.”

You made sure to lean over and hit him. Not the first time and definitely won’t be the last with his history of smart comments. “Shut it.”

The elevator dinged, and in walked the coaching staff and players of the two NHL teams. Each of them greeted your family before everyone mingled.

“How have you been?” you asked Seb as he and Jarvis stood with you and Andrei in the garden smoking area. No one was smoking, but it was a nice little seating area.

“Good,” both boys replied.

Water started to rain down on you guys where you sat. Seb and Jarvis raced to go inside out of the shower. You just laughed, looking at Andrei who was already looking at you. Just like the moment in every romance movie, Andrei leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in the rain. As his arms slipped around your waist, yours slipped around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Get out from the sprinklers,” your mother shouted with a large smile on her face.

You pulled away and looked up at the clear skies. The bloody sprinklers in the garden had decided to turn on while you were sitting there. You and Andrei laughed as you moved to step out of the garden area.

“I’m so sorry, Your Highness,” a worker apologized as she handed both of you a towel to dry off with.

“It’s no issue,” you laughed, your eyes not leaving the grinning Russian beside you.

The pair of you didn’t part throughout dinner. The table you were at was filled with Andrei, his favourite boys, and their partners. You were glowing with happiness, and so was Andrei. His friends were happy to see the friendship blossom into something more.

“I don’t know if you have been told,” your mother started, standing from her seat with the coaching staff, “but on Friday evening, I got three boxes, including the royal box, at the AFL game tomorrow. It’s Eagles vs. Dockers, which is a big game. It’s called the Derby.”

“It’s the equivalent to a Rangers versus Islanders game or the Oilers versus Flames,” you elaborated for the players who had no clue about the sport.

The week was spent with Andrei, attending practices and hanging out with your best friend. If he had enough time, he’d come to your apartment in the palace. It wasn’t just Andrei either; sometimes you and Andrei would take the others and partners out around the city. You got to play host and tour guide around your home city.

Friday night came around, and you dressed up like you usually do for football: jeans, a cute top with a coat, and an Eagles scarf to finish the outfit. You had brought your clothes to the hotel to get ready with Andrei. The two teams had taken sides. Canes were supporting West Coast like you. Rangers were supporting Fremantle like your brother and his girlfriend.

“You look excited,” Andrei grinned as you and the group arrived at the royal box at Optus Stadium.

“I love watching the footy!” you grinned, waving at fans standing below the box.

In the royal box were you, Andrei and his close friends and partners, your mother, and security. Your brother and his girlfriend were with the Rangers as they were cheering on Fremantle. You and the group were excited for the centre bounce. Of course, the group was going through the media as it was a big deal with the NHL teams in the city.

“Your Highness, are you ready to go down to do the coin flip?”

“Of course,” you smiled at the worker.

You, Andrei, your brother, and Trouba followed the worker down to the oval. Your brother would do this week’s coin toss as you did the previous derby. The four of you, two supporters of each team. Oscar Allen and Alex Pearce both bowed to the royals, then shook hands with the four of you.

“Lovely to see you again, Oscar,” you grinned as you hugged the captain.

“You as well, Your Highness,” the blonde chuckled.

After the coin toss, which the Eagles won, they chose the way they were kicking first before the royal party was escorted back to the boxes to watch the game. As the group walked past the Eagles huddle, Harley Reid peeled away from the group for a second to fist bump the Princess as she walked by.

“Good luck, Harley,” you called as he ran back.

Harley waved back, a wide grin on the rookie's face, “We’ve got this.”

Andrei was confused at the interaction but knew you were friendly with all the players on the team. “Who’s that?”

“That is Harley Reid,” you answered. “He was the number one draft pick last year. He’s changed the mood on the team greatly. Great dude.”

As you and Andrei settled back in the suite, you cuddled into Andrei’s side. It was kind of chilly but nothing too crazy. The boys threw questions at you about the game. Who’s this player? What’s that move? What is the ref calling?

“What does it mean when they kick it between the posts?” Aho asked as the Eagles scored the first goal of the game.

You laughed at the question after you finished cheering. “It’s a goal, worth six points. Between the inner and outer posts on each side is a behind, worth only a point.”

The game went by with lots of cheering from the Canes and yourself. The game took off with an exciting start. The Eagles kept the lead through all four quarters. Sure, the Dockers came close, but the Eagles took off in the last quarter. The satisfaction of singing the winning song was incredible, and all the boys enjoyed it.

The next big event was the first game of the Global Series in Perth. You traveled with the Canes to the stadium while your family would meet you there just before the game. It was agreed that you and your brother would both do the puck drop. He said he’d wear the Rangers jersey to allow you to wear the Canes jersey of your upgraded best friend.

“This will be you and the Canes families’ suite, Your Highness,” a worker stated as you were shown where you’d sit for the game.

As much as you wished to sit in the front row to watch your boyfriend, you couldn’t. It was too high risk for security. So instead, you were in the suite with the girlfriends of the Canes, which you guess you were now a part of.

“Hey sweetheart,” Brent Burns’ wife greeted you with their two kids.

After spending so long with the team and families, you had told them to just call you by your name. And like normal, nicknames were created. Andrei always called you Princess. The team called you Your Highness. The older women in the families called you sweetheart.

The game was intense, and the girls were energetic. You were on your feet every time the boys scored. The girls were right there beside you as well. The first thing you all did after the game was head down to where the makeshift change rooms were.

“There she is,” Andrei grinned when he came off the ice after the photos were taken.

You smiled and wrapped your arms around the giant hockey player. “Wow, it’s like you’re taller on skates.”

“I wonder,” he laughed, pulling you closer.

“Congrats on the hatty, Mr. Sweaty.”

Andrei chuckled, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips, “With my good luck charm watching me and cheering me on, always, My Princess.”

TAG LIST:

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras 

@francesfarhadi @cixrosie @dasiysthings @dancerbailey3 @puckmaidens 

@cole-mcward48 @sammiejane22 @rleigh-47 @Devilsandpensfan @luca-fantilli 

@books-hlmc @kajasagmo @poufsouffle21 

[cellythefloshie]

;; Paths We Didn't Take Dedicated to @wyattjohnston for her birthday bingo

Summary: City girl, Margeaux, had sworn off love after breaking up with her boyfriend of two years. She’s thought he was the one, but instead of a wedding ring, Margeaux was left trying to fill the void he left being. With the help of her friends, she escaped the life she knew in the city. Deep in cabin country, Margeaux struggles to find herself - but it's easier said than done when her high school sweetheart makes an unexpected appearance. Birthday Bingo Tropes: Lake Fic, One-Night Stand, Sworn Off Love, High School Sweethearts, Fish Out of Water, Exes to Lovers, Opposites Attract. Kinks & Tropes: protected sex, it's pretty vanilla (and nowhere near what I usually write for smut, so be gentle with me, I've been out of the game for a while). ABOUT THE OC: Margeaux, face claim: Nicola Peltz. Word Count: 9.6k+ A/N: Demi, I AM SO SO SORRY for how long it took me to write this fic or you for your special day. AND thank you for being so understanding as I reached out to you during my writing process. This fic is a little different from anything I've written before. It's got a lot more pop-culture references than I usually include, and if I really let myself fall into the plot fully, this easily could have been a slow burn novel fulled with so much lake side shenanigans. Just watch, this will be a rabbit hole I fall into often, just like Adam and Charlie..... Anyway, I hope it was worth the wait. Happy Belated Birthday. 🎂

Part One. 

Tears glimmered like diamonds as they traveled over the swell of Margeaux’s cheeks and down into the corners of her lips. Slowly, her tongue licked them away, tasting her own sorrows. And she watched it all in the reflection produced on her phone screen, a live video shared with her thousands of followers live on TikTok. They heard every echo of her footsteps of her empty apartment that had once been filled with laughter, love and her ex-boyfriend’s cologne. Now, it smelt of nothing but the fresh morning breeze that gusts over the rolling waves that crashed up onto Vancouver’s shores. 

Margeaux could smell it as she took an unsteady breath, a desperate attempt at composure, but her eyes were already red and swollen from crying. Her viewers had seen it all, the comments flooded with love. They had lived in that apartment with her through her videos. They had all shared a little piece of her two-year relationship that was now over. Some viewers shared her broken heart, others were angry - as she should have been. He had cheated on her, after all, and they were the first ones to know it. Sending her all the screenshots of evidence. They were all strangers, yet her closest friends. It just made sense to be ending this chapter of her life with them. 

“We’ve been through so much here, haven’t we?” she spoke, her voice breaking as she addressed her growing audience. The comment section flooded so quickly that she couldn’t even read it, “So many adventures, love, headache. We have grown up together here, between these walls.”

Margeaux panned the camera over the sterile white walls that would be the blank canvas of life to the next residents set to move in at the beginning of August. Then Margeaux turned the camera back to herself, her expression soft with sadness but bright with the hope she held for her future. “But I’m done,” she declared, her voice growing stronger. “I’m done with the heartache, the lies, and the broken promises. We’re better than that. We deserve better. I’m swearing off men, and that’s a promise!”

Behind her, Margeaux's words had earned a slow, almost hollow sounding applause that echoed off the large apartment’s empty walls. It drew her gaze bag and tugged her lips into a soft smile. It was Carrie, her best friend, who had returned from carrying the last box down to the can. Margeaux had hoped that she would have been able to sneak in a quick stream while she was gone, but she had been caught up in the moment of it all, leaving Carrie’s eyes rolling upon discovering her. 

“Margeaux, seriously?” Carried scoffed, a single hand raising up to tangle in her curls, “Nobody wants to see you cry on TikTok.”

Margeaux sniffled, wiping away a single tear with the back of her hand, all the while smiling. “You’re right,” she sighed, her shoulders slouching as she looked back to the camera, “I think it’s time I disconnect for a while, guys. We started this journey together in this apartment and achieved so much. But outside of this bubble I’ve made for myself, do we really know who Margeaux Fortin is? Do we know what’s next?” 

She walked to the window slowly, a gust of wind catching her golden hair and tossing it away from her face, that was now free of tears. Her viewing could see her face in full. How her eyes seemed to squint in the breeze, and how her lips parted in a trembling breath. “We don’t. It’s something we will have to discover, but I have to do it alone, friends. I will be back, and I can’t wait to share my new version of me with you all.”

Slowly, her arm lowered, her stream capturing nothing more than the white walls before the stream ended. Margeaux stood by the window in silence, waiting for Carrie to quip in with something charming, but it never came. Turning in place, Margeaux crossed her arms over her chest and held herself firmly as she was met with Carrie’s narrow stare. 

“People really buy all that bullshit?” Her words were laced with a laugh that would have been a firm ‘ha’ if it came to fruition. 

“It’s not bullshit,” Margeaux gripped at the fabric of her own cardigan tightly. 

Carrie had never understood why she devoted so much time to social media and her followers. Margeaux spent the last 2 years of her life living through the screen or her phone or a camera if she were filming something to be posted later, and she was successful with it. Not only had she garnered a mass of followers, she had made many friendships and sponsorships and had experienced things she would have never imagined she could. Yet, Carried was humble, disconnected from all social media, and liked to live in the moment. If they hadn’t been friends since preschool, they probably wouldn’t have been friends at all. 

She had almost lost her a few times too, and Margeaux was glad she hadn’t. Outside her online presence, Carrie was all she had left. 

“Hey,” Carrie left where she stood by the doorway and walked across the room to take Margeaux into her arms. “I know it’s not bullshit… It’s just weird,” she sighed, and when she drew back, Margeaux made sure to give her a smile. 

“It’s all I know,” Margeaux sighed, “but as long as I’m online, as long as my breakup is trendy, I’m just going to be reminded of what he put me through - but I don’t know what else to do, Carrie.”

Carrie’s expression softened, and Margeaux’s heart sank. She was pitying her. 

“I know it’s hard, but you’ll get through this because I know just the thing to help.”

Margeaux raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued, “Oh?”

Carrie smiled, a glint in her eyes that Margeaux couldn’t quite identify. “My friend Mat is coming home for the summer. He’s got a cabin up in the mountains, and he’s invited me to stay there. I’m allowed to bring friends, and Charlotte and Samantha are already on board. You should come with us.”

Margeaux bit down on her lip as she hesitated to answer. This was the first time she had heard of this trip, but she wasn’t surprised. Carrie never invited her out to do anything that involved the outdoors, and that was for good reason. Margeaux hated the heat and the cold, the sun and the rain, the dirt and she hated the bugs more. The scenery itself was beautiful, especially in British Columbia. It was, to put it simply, picturesque, everything she needed for her online presence, but if she went with Carrie, Margeaux wouldn’t be going to make content. She would be trying to find herself. 

“I don’t know,” Margeaux sighed, her tone returning to that soft, disheartened tone she had started her stream with. “You know I’m not exactly the outdoorsy type.”

Carrie raised a single well manicured hand, waving off Margeaux's concerns with ease. “You don’t have to be. It’ll be good for you to get away from all of this for a while. Just think of it as a much-needed forest retreat.”

Margeaux bit her lip as her mind flashed to the image of a rustic cabin in the middle of nowhere. Where mosquitos would feast on her blood, the howl of wolves would keep her up at night and where dirt would stain her spotless white shoes. She cringed as her mind spiraled with just how bad it could be.

What if there was no internet or worse, no air conditioning?

In her mind, it sounded more like torture than somewhere she could go to relax, rejuvenate and find herself after spending years of giving little pieces of herself to her ex just for him to throw it all away. 

Margeaux's shoulders shook with a deep breath that escaped her lips in a sigh. Then she looked around the empty apartment one last time, letting the reality of her situation really sink in. Her boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, had cheated on her. She was moving out of the apartment that was meant to be her home. She was nothing more than an internet personality who was a shell of who she once was. Margeaux needed to move on, to find herself, but she wasn’t going to find it in Vancouver. 

She bit her tongue to keep herself from cursing. Carrie was right. 

“Okay,” she said finally, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, “I’ll go.”

Carrie's features grew bright, her jaw slacking as she smiled. She must not have thought Margeaux was going to accept, but she had surprised them both. Margeaux just hoped she wouldn’t regret it. 

“You’re going to love it,” Carrie assured, throwing a single arm around her shoulders to lead her out of the apartment, and the life she was leaving behind. “This summer is going to be exactly what we need. We finally get to have a hot girl summer together.”

Now it was Margeaux’s eyes that were rolling. They hadn’t been single at the same time since sixth grade, but the last thing Margeaux wanted was to go sleeping around. Especially when the wounds of her breakup were still fresh. 

“We’ll see about that,” Margeaux sighed and the weight on her heart began to lift ever so slightly. The apartment with all its memories - good and bad - would be behind her soon, and maybe, just maybe, with a little help, she could find herself again. 

—

The winding mountain road twisted and turned, the dense forest on either side a blur of green as the car sped along with urgency. They had left Carrie’s place behind schedule, and Margeaux was going to be the first to admit that it was her fault. She didn’t know what to pack, so she over packed, and they had spent 30 minutes trying to make sure all her bags would fit. While Carrie’s grip on the steering wheel was tense, Margeaux’s cluelessness hadn’t fully killed the mood. The atmosphere, especially in the back seat, was lively. 

The car vibrated with the base of the hottest song of summer - according to Samantha, who lay sprawled out over the center console as she did her best to outshine Sabrina Carpenter as she sang along with Espresso - albeit off-key. Charlotte sat beside her in the backseat, her phone in hand as she curated just what songs would come next. Margeaux sat in the passenger’s seat, watching as Samantha tapped at the screen on her phone. Jealous. Carrie had taken her phone from her before they got in the car. Margeaux was officially cut off. No more TikTok. No X. Not even Facebook, which was primarily kept to message no one beyond her grandmother. And watching Samantha in the back seat made Margeaux’s skin crawl. It was an itch she wouldn't be able to scratch for the entire weekend, and one that she was struggling to ignore.  

There was snow saving her, or at least that's how she felt as the tapping of Carrie’s fingers against the steering wheel mimicked the racing of her anxious heart. She couldn't even bring herself to sing along with one of her favorite Taylor Swift songs as it blasted through the car. Charlotte cheered as if she were in the front row at the Eras Tour, and Carrie sang like she was performing in front of a crowd of thousands. She sang with so much passion, so much heart. But Margeaux only sunk further into her seat. 

There was an ache in the depths of her chest, one that had begun to gnaw at her ever since the breakup. Sometimes, it felt like it was finally beginning to fade - but being surrounded by her friends, the laughter and the music only numbed the pain. Deep below the surface, she was still hurting and Margeaux was beginning to question if anything could heal her. 

Her phone. 

She needed her phone. 

Lulling her head to the side, Margeaux looked down at the backpack that rested at her own feet. Carrie’s backpack. The one she had confined her phone to at the beginning of the trip as Margeaux was sentenced to be completely isolated from the very lifeline that was her phone. 

Maybe, with Carrie distracted, Margeaux could reach her phone. 

Margeaux slouched in her seat, her bright eyes watching Carrie as she rocked the chorus. 

Her perfectly manicured fingers pinched at the zipper, pulling it open, the very sound of it drowned out by her friend’s vocals. And for a moment, as the bag fell open, Margeaux felt hope, relief- and it was all gone just as quickly as it came as she felt Carrie’s careful grasp coil around her hand. 

Looking up through thick lashes, Margeaux sighed. Carrie’s eyes hadn’t even left the road. “Margeaux, you need this. You need to let you. Just for a little while.” 

Full lips parted, ready to argue - to insist that she was fine - but it all would have been a lie. A desperate attempt to get her life back, but Margeaux had been friends with Carrie long enough to know that it would have been a losing battle. They looked out for one another, they always did, and Carrie was just doing what was best for her, Margeaux knew that. 

“Fine,” she pouted, her arms crossing over her chest childishly. 

Carrie laughed, the tension in the car evaporating slowly as Margeaux became distracted by the scenery as it passed the window in a blur. The singing and laughter were the mere background track of her mind that was still fixated on the anxiety and the dread she was trying to escape. It haunted her for the rest of the drive, her head resting against the car window as she told herself that the complications of her life were behind her now, and that they would be at the cabin soon. 

Soon, she would finally find peace. 

The trees began to thin, and the road opened up to a large clearing at the end of a winding driveway. There was a sight that left Margeaux’s breath catching in her throat. The cabin wasn’t the rustic, rundown shack she had imagined. It was a beautiful, multistory cabin with floor to ceiling glass windows that reflected the surrounding forest and mountains on the skyline. It had a large porch too, one that wrapped around the front and had a towering staircase that led from the driveway up to the front door.  

“Wow,” Margeaux breathed out as she stepped out of the car, taking it all in. “You didn’t tell me we were visiting Edward Cullen.”

Carrie’s lips split into a wide grin, it was clear to Margeaux that her friend was pleased by the shock that was painted all over her face. “Not bad, right?” 

“Not bad at all,” Margeaux agreed, moving to the trunk to grab her bags, “you know, I would have been much more agreeable if I knew this was the kind of cabin we were coming to-”

“What’s the fun in that?” Carrie teased her, helping her unload one of her many bags - a bag that ended up on the ground as they were both startled by a shout from at the top of the steps;

“Carrie!”

Margeaux looked up, her trendy curtain bangs falling into her eyes, as she stood in the driveway left frozen at the sight of the man jogging down the steps towards them. He was tall, with an athletic build on full display, as he was wearing nothing more than a pair of swim trunks. His dark hair was shaggy, hanging down into his eyes, and as he got closer, she could see the easy smile on his face. He was handsome - very handsome - and Margeaux quickly concluded that this must be Carrie’s friend, Mat. 

She watched, still lingering at the trunk of the car, as Carrie reached Mat at the bottom of the stairs. They met in an embrace, Mat’s hands lingering low on Carrie’s back. Margeaux’s brow raised and her head tilt so silently screamed, friend’s my ass. They were fucking. Margeaux didn’t need to be told to know that, and it left a sour taste in her mouth knowing that she had been invited alone to some fuck fest in the woods. 

Her mood changed in an instant as she unpacked the rest of her bags that began to pile up as if she had just gotten off an international light. Margeaux grumbled to herself, her brows heavy and lips pressed into a firm line. And her expression only hardened further as she heard the symphony of footsteps that belonged to Mat’s friends. They too were making their way down to greet them, and while she was curious, Margeaux was mad. Carrie had invited her with the full intention of keeping Mat’s friends busy for the weekend. 

Hot Girl Summer. 

Gripping the handle of one of her bags tight, Margeaux took a deep breath and tried to get her features to relax before she looked up at the trio of men that had made their way down from the cabin, their welcome party. They were making their introductions to Charlotte and Samantha who had already pulled out all the stops when it came to their flirtations and charms - which wasn’t all that difficult when they had driven down not wearing more than a pair of denim shorts pulled over their swimsuits. 

A part of Margeaux hoped that the sights of them alone would be enough to distract the men from her - that Carrie, Charlotte and Samantha would have all of their undivided attention while she struggled to carry her bags up the staircase and then went off to hide somewhere on a lounge chair or a beach to enjoy the sun. And while Margeaux was sure she wouldn’t be lucky enough to disappear, she still tried. She organized her bags with such an ease that only came with the experience of travel, closed up the trunk and slowly rounded the car like a deer trying to creep past a predator. She even kept her head down in an attempt to go unnoticed. 

And she might have been successful if it hadn’t been her own heart that failed her. 

There was a familiar laugh that took the air. It was a low laugh, one that could only belong to a man. But not any man. This was a laugh she had heard countless times before. One that she had coaxed from thin lips, one that made her heart thunder when she was merely sixteen - and even after seven years, it still did. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her ears. It felt like she had just finished a sprint, though she was standing still. And her luggage slipped from suddenly sweaty palms, sending it to the ground in a clamor that brought all the attention to her. 

At that moment, it was all confirmed in front of her. 

Margeaux’s breath caught in her throat as her gaze fixated on the all too familiar face that hadn’t seen her yet. He was laughing at something someone said, and looked just as she remembered him - his smile large, his eyes bright and his hair threatening to curl as it was slicked back with sweat or water - except he was older now, more mature, and even more attractive. 

The need to take even a single breath strangled her lungs, but the shock of the unexpected reunion was heavy on her chest. She hadn’t prepared for this. 

Her high school sweetheart. 

Anthony Beauvillier.

Part Two. 

For the rest of the first day at the cabin, Margeaux had kept herself hidden away in the bedroom that was hers for the weekend. There she followed through with her multi-step self care routine that she always did before bed. Carrie had only tried to bug her once, but Margeaux was quick to dismiss her with nothing more than a scowl. She wasn't joining them by the fire tonight. She wasn't going to drink craft beer and pretend everything was okay. Not when it was all so clearly a setup. But Margeaux could only hide away from Anthony and her friends for so long. 

Come morning, Margeaux was sitting out on the front steps of the cabin with a shoebox in her lap. Inside were a pair of brand-new hiking boots, a purchase she had made more out of necessity than desire. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she carefully removed each of her dainty designer sandals. The thin straps and detailing were a stark contrast to the rugged shoes she was about to put on. Then, she slipped on a clean white pair of socks, opened the shoe box and fought the boots onto her feet. They were tight, uncomfortable even as she would be breaking them in on the post-breakfast hike. 

It was as she was tieing up the laces of each boot that a familiar voice broke through the sound of the morning breeze and chirping of early rising birds. “Those brand new?” 

Squinting her eyes, Margeaux looked up, rose-tinted sunglasses shielding her eyes from the sun that illuminated Anthony from behind like a radiant halo. He stood a few steps away, already dressed for the hike, with a teasing grin on his face. Margeaux knew their paths would cross again. Yet his presence left her heart jolting at the sight of him. 

“Maybe,” she finally replied, her smile turning inwards as she adjusted the laces just right. 

Anthony chuckled, his gaze dropping to her shoes before meeting her eyes again. “You never really were the outdoorsy type.” 

Margeaux stiffened, her shoulders rolling back as they tensed, unsure of how to respond. The comment was innocent enough, and very much the truth, but she didn't like it. It made her feel that she didn't belong there. That Anthony didn't want her to be there. 

“Well, here I am.” 

Anthony smirked as he took a casual stride towards the railing of the deck. He leaned there casually, but his gaze continued to linger on her. “So, what has you all the way out here?”

The question hung heavily in the air, and Margeaux could sense the deeper meaning behind his words. He wasn't just asking about the cabin or Vancouver. He was asking about her life, about how she ended up there. And while the simple answer was Carrie, she was sure Anthony was asking about one thing, but would never actually say the words.

I’m not fucking Mat if that's what you're asking, was what she wanted to say. But Margeaux answered him with less vulgarity, “I dumped my boyfriend, and Carrie thought I could use a change of scenery.”

For a moment, as Margeaux so blatantly stared at him, she thought she saw a flicker of something in his expression. Relief, maybe, or something close to it. But it was gone in the blink of her eyes, replaced by that same teasing smile he had greeted her with. “You’re joining us for the hike?”

“I didn't put on these ugly things for fun,” Margeaux said, wiggling her feet. 

“They aren't supposed to be good looking, Margeaux. They're supposed to be supportive, comfortable,” he told her with a grin that faded as he looked from one side of her to the next. His expression softened slowly, his eyes squinting as if he were trying to find something that wasn't there. 

“What?” she snapped more harshly than she had intended. 

“Where's your bag?” 

Margeaux blinked, her eyes wide and clueless. “Hiking bag?”

Anthony turned in place, his back resting against the railing as his smile fell into a sigh. His band then raised up, carding through his messing morning hair. “You're not carrying anything with you? No water, no snacks, nothing?”

Margeaux perked up in place. She shouldn't have, but she did. She was bringing something. Her hand dropped to her side where her GoPro sat, waiting to be mounted on her chest with a contraption she had bought on Amazon last minute. She held it up for him to see, feeling a little foolish, but happy. It was her only connection to her online persona, and it made her feel a little less anxious as she was about to dive into the world of being outdoorsy - a world she never really wanted to be a part of. 

He was left unimpressed as he pushed off the rail and moved for his bag that rested nearby. There was a thunder of footsteps behind her. It was time to go.

“Just. Stick close to me,” Anthony said, his tone serious as he fell into stride with the rest of the group. 

“What? Why?” she asked, standing up as she fastened the camera over her chest. 

“You're going to need all the help you can get,” he replied, a hint of concern in his voice. 

And while she knew that he was right. His words still stung. 

“No air won't,” Margeaux bit back at him, her confidence forced, but so convincing she almost believed herself. 

He didn't have to look back at her for Margeaux to know that he was smiling. She could hear it in Anthony's words as he spoke, “Alright, Princess. We'll see about that.” 

Hearing her old nickname left Margeaux frozen in place. Each of her friends passed her, but she fixated on Anthony and only Anthony. He had been the only one she let call her that. Not her parents, nor her most recent ex were allowed to - and when he tried, she had shut it down quickly, yet casually, and suggested an alternative. Because it had been something special when Anthony said it. It left her heart fluttering, and her cheeks pink with blush. Even as he said it then, and she was hearing it for the first time in years, she remembered each time he said it before. Quickly, she became the giddy teenager that was undeniably and irrevocably in love with Anthony Beauvillier. 

The feeling was fleeting, gone as quickly as it came, knocked out of her with her breath as a pair of arms flung around her in a tight embrace. 

“What are you waiting for? Let's go!”

It was Carrie. All too chipper, and all too happy for Margeaux to stomach when she could already feel the itch of a mosquito bite on her arm. Besides that fact, Margeaux was still angry that Carrie had put her into this position.

Taking a deep breath, Margeaux shrugged her friend's arms from her body. The quick turn of her head offered her an eye roll and a glare that only brought Carrie to laughter. She knew this would upset her, but knew that keeping it from Margeaux and asking for forgiveness later was easier than trying to convince her to go.

Carrie nudged her as they reached the beginning of the trail, and when she spoke, she kept her voice low so as not to be heard by the rest of the group that led the way. “So,” she licked her lips, “how long are you going to be mad at me for?” 

Margeaux glanced ahead, making sure Anthony was out of earshot. He walked at the front of the pack, making the hike through the Instagram worthy view look so effortless as she tripped over rocks. She watched as he tried to dodge a branch of a pine tree; the bristles brushing against the fabric of his shirt. As she walked in his wake, she could smell the scent of it in the air. Pine mixed with dirt, mixed with the sunscreen on her face that had already begun to run into her eyes as sweat dripped off her brow. 

Her eyes squinted, her nose wrinkling too at the discomfort as she spoke, “I think 4 years would suffice. You know, the amount of time Anthony and I dated in high school.” 

He had been playing for the Shawinigan Cataractes when Margeaux had met him. So sweet, and so shy, she had to make the first move. They had been inseparable since that moment. That was until he was called up to the NHL by the Islanders. He moved to New York; she moved to Vancouver. Slowly, even after their efforts, they lost touch. Margeaux told herself it was just how things were meant to be. The two of them, just highschool sweethearts, never meant to be more than her first love. But now she wasn't so-

“He's single, you know?” Carrie broke through her thoughts.

“How do you-” Margeaux spoke quickly, her tongue tripping over her words as she couldn't follow a single train of thought, “what is he even doing here? Did you invite him?”

“No,” Carrie held up both hands as if to plead her innocence, “he's Mat's old teammate. They're still close friends. I didn't find out he was coming until a few days before.”

“But you didn't tell me,” Margeaux bit out. 

“I didn't,” Carrie hummed, “but” she added in a sing-song tone, “I bet it's nice seeing again.”

“It is,” she admitted, “in a way, I guess. But it doesn't mean I forgive you. Not when I know you only invited us out here to keep his friends busy during your weekend booty call.” 

Carrie didn't even blush. She had no shame as she leaned in and kissed Margeaux on the cheek before she ran off to the middle of the pack where Mat was walking. 

It left Margeaux alone at the back of the pack, falling further and further behind as they followed the trail. It grew steeper with every stride, and Margeaux's legs began to ache. While she loved her pilates, her body was in no way trained for the long hike. Her breath became short, her gasps quiet as she did her best not to draw attention to herself. Each step was a struggle as she began to question just how far she could go. Yet, she didn't ask for help. 

She didn't have to. 

With her eyes fixated on the ground, Margeaux jumped in surprise at the sound of the sudden but softly spoken. “Here” that met her ears. Looking up, she found Anthony walking beside her. He had noticed her struggling and had fallen to the back of the pack, with the mouthpiece of his water bladder in hand. He offered it to him with a soft, concerned smile. “You look like you could use this.”

Her pride was bruised, yet Margeaux took the mouthpiece and accepted her defeat. They paused in the middle of the trail and she took a long drink that soothed her dry throat. When she pulled back, Margeaux was sure she could see the gratitude written all over her face. “Merci,” she muttered, handing it back. 

Anthony smiled. 

“We're almost to the top,” he encouraged. “The hike back will be easier.” 

Margeaux nodded, raising a hand to wipe the sweat off her brow. She was too tired to speak, but his reassurance gave her the strength to keep going. They walked together in silence, the sound of their footsteps lost in the faint laughter of their friends in the distance. 

They followed the sound; the laughter growing louder and louder until they reached the peak of the trail together. The trees parted into a clearing that looked down over the sprawling forest around them and left endless blue skies free from their shade. Margeaux could feel the hot sun on her skin, but the summer breeze cooled her. And she smiled. 

“See,” Anthony nudged her casually, “worth the effort, right?” 

She looked back over her shoulder at him, still smiling. “Yeah.” 

He stood at her side, their backs to the rest of the group as they admired the view from the peak of the trail. The group all linger there for a while, sharing conversation and refueling for the descent. But Margeaux only spent her time with Anthony, sharing his water and casual conversation. Even as they walked back to the cabin, they walked side by side, his arms finding her when she stumbled. Margeaux was relieved by the time they reached the cabin steps. But she was also feeling something new. Something that felt a little like excitement, a little like hope, and she knew it was all because of Anthony. 

Part Three.

The hot day faded into a cool, starry night. Margeaux had insisted that she was going to go straight to bed, but with a little convincing, she was pulling on her sweatshirt and joining the group out back by the lake where there was a fire pit. The flames danced, and the wood crackled, releasing sparks into the darkness above. 

The fiery embers danced in the breeze and Margeaux watched them until they were lost among the stars. The air was engulfed by the scent of wood-smoke, tainting the fresh air that almost left Margeaux dreading that they would be going back to the city come morning. She was just starting to like this place, though she was sure that wouldn't have been the case if Anthony wasn't there. 

He had been as sweet as the gooey marshmallow and melted chocolate sandwiched between graham crackers that oozed between her fingers. An insatiable delight that only left her wanting more than they sat side by side around the fire. Anthony had her laughing. He had her forgetting the reasons she had agreed to go out to the cabin. It was like a weight was lifted from her shoulders. The heartache, the uncertainty, and the anxiety were all gone, but it left all the room for dread. 

It hit her like a truck the moment she felt something crawling on her leg. It left her heart heavy as she tried to ignore it. Margeaux told herself that it had to be another harmless insect. She even reached a hand down, swatting the air, but the sensation persisted. It sent shivers down her spine, and when she looked down, she saw it - a small, dark tick making its way up her leg. 

Shooting up from her seat, Margeaux shouted the first thing that came to mind as she tried to shake the bug off her leg, “Anthony!”

Anthony, who had been sitting right beside her, dropped down so that he knelt in the dirt. The flickering flame illuminated his features, and even in the intensity of its light, he was calm. He reached out with both hands, her body becoming still in an instant as he searched for the tick. “It hasn’t latched on yet. Hold still.”

Margeaux held her breath, her lungs burning deep in her chest, as she stood there frozen as Anthony reached for the tick. His fingers were gentle but sure as he plucked the tiny tick from her skin. He held it up briefly for her to see that it was in her hold, before tossing it into the fire, where it disappeared with a faint sizzle. 

“It’s gone,” he reassured, but then his face wrinkled, “but there might be more. You should check yourself over, just to be safe.”

Her heart surged as she was hit by another wave of panic. The thought of more ticks crawling on her skin left her on the verge of tears as she nodded quickly. She was struggling to keep her composure. “I don’t think I can. Could you?”

Anthony hesitated, his throat clearing as he looked at each of his and her friends. Then, he ran his hand over his jawline before giving a small nod, “alright, let’s go inside.”

They left the warmth of the fire together, Margeaux’s quick steps leading the way. She didn’t stop until they were enclosed by the shadows of the bedroom. It was quiet there, the amber glow of the table top lamp at her bedside. It was too intimate; she decided quickly, but not even turning on the overhead light erased the feeling of uneasiness that came with the reality of what she told him to do. 

Margeaux’s hands trembled slightly as she undressed, peeling off her clothes layer by layer until she stood in nothing but her bra and underwear. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but also annoyed. Her bra and panties didn’t match, and were far from cute - but she hadn’t exactly planned for anyone else to see them. Especially not Anthony. 

But he didn’t seem to notice as he turned around from closing the door behind her, and if he didn’t, he didn’t comment on it. Anthony was completely quiet as he approached her. He stood in her shadow, his hands reaching out to rest on her shoulders with such a gentleness Margeaux held her breath. “You ready?”

Margeaux nodded, giving him the permission he needed to continue. He checked her carefully, his hands moving over her skin with a touch that was both methodological and tender. His hands didn’t linger in any place too long, but Margeaux’s skin was lit ablaze as it lingered. She could feel it burn down her arms, her back and even her legs. But it was only as his fingers reached the band of her bra that Margeaux held her breath. 

“Sometimes,” Anthony’s words were a mere whisper, “sometimes they like to hide here,” he explained softly. 

Margeaux nodded slowly, her throat too tight to speak. She didn’t give him the time to undo it himself. Instead, she reached behind her and unclasped the bra for him. She could hear it hit the floor, her eyes going shut at the sound, and she turned slowly to face Anthony. 

When she opened her eyes, Anthony’s face was a deep shade of red, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he reached out with careful, respectful hands, and he continued his search. He stroked along the impression the bra had left behind on her skin and caressed the underside of her breasts. 

It left her shuddering. 

Margeaux hoped he didn’t notice. 

“There’s nothing,” Anthony finally said, his voice soft as he met her eyes. 

Margeaux let herself breathe again, relieved. “Thank you.”

That should have been his queue to leave, for Margeaux to pull away and find her clothes, but neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke, either. They just shared a soft gaze. Margeaux’s heart pounded in her chest as she let herself realize a single face: The connection they had shared years ago was still there. She felt it; it was undeniable. Maybe he felt it, too. 

Margeaux reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm, and she watched his shoulders tense as his breath hitched. For a moment, it seemed like time stood still. The world outside their small quiet room was forgotten, and Anthony was dropping to his knees. 

“There’s one last place I can check,” he whispered, his eyes not once leaving hers. 

Anthony’s hands reached out, taking hold of her hips carefully. His thumbs stroked over the soft cotton fabric, moving back and forth so slowly it was almost painful. 

Margeaux squirmed in place, pressing her thighs firm together before relaxing at the feeling of him dragging the fabric down her legs slowly. The fabric teased her skin on the way down, sending Margeaux’s head lulling back and her eyes fluttering shut. She could only feel him then, as the careful touch of his hands found her inner thighs. He stroked the skin carefully, as if he were still checking for ticks, but then she felt his hot breath. 

She felt his mouth. 

Margeaux gasped, his kiss hot as it worked its way so close to the apex that her legs trembled. Anthony braced her legs with the strength of his arms, keeping her upright. It was enough to make her whine as she reached out with both hands, her fingers finding his dark curls to knit into. 

The simple touch drew him in closer, his hot breath ghosting over her sweet heat just long enough for her core to clench before he was guiding each of her legs over his shoulders. He picked her up with such effortlessness, his face pressed against her pelvis and her belly as he carried her across the room and laid her out on her half made bed. 

Its soft impact had Margeaux's eyes shooting open, taking in the sight of the ceiling as Anthony kissed a burning trail up her body and into her view. He hovered over her for a moment, his own chin slick with saliva, before leaning in and kissing her in a way they never had as teenagers. 

They had been so young and inexperienced back then. So eager and impatient to kiss, and to fuck, that the only feeling was one of ecstasy. But they were older now, grown up in so many more ways than just physically. Which was why she moaned when he did something as simple as stoking her skin and gasped when she felt two fingers press against her clit. 

They moved in a slow circle as he kissed her, her body beginning to coil with the pleasure of his touch. Margeaux’s breasts heaved as she threw her head back into the pillows, her hands tugging blindly at the fabric of his shirt, and his short, that she wasn't going anywhere without his help. 

Anthony eased back, tugging his shirt free first and tossing it aside. His hand dropped to his shorts next, but Margeaux was sitting up, her mouth taking its own assault on his stomach and abs. She could feel his chuckle on her lips before it left his laced in his words, “lay back, Princess.”

She melted away from him like chocolate, her body sprawling out and legs spread as he shimmied off the bed and discarded his shorts on the floor. He was gone so long, Margeaux felt cold, but when he returned, she pulled him closer and closer just to stay warm. Legs intertwined, and her arms reached around him so her manicure could claw at the strength of his shoulders as he eased into her. Her gasp was swallowed by his kiss as his hips rolled. Margeaux met his every tender movement as he remembered exactly what she liked and discovered more. It left her trembling with the climax of her pleasure as his one hand reached to cradle the back of her neck. His thick fingers knitting in her blonde strands, drawing her forehead up to rest against his. It was his tell. He was about to come. Margeaux grinned, her core coaxing him to the very peak of his pleasure, his mouth left gaping with a silent moan. 

They were both left smiling when they were through, Margeaux’s hands reaching out to stroke through his sweaty curls. Anthony was still buried deep within her as he turned his head just enough to kiss the supple skin of her palm. He was sweet, too sweet, and Margeaux almost hated it. He hadn’t changed a bit in the seven years they were apart. Yet, there she lay, feeling like herself for the first time in a long time. 

It left her dizzy as he rolled out of bed, her body anchoring itself to the blankets beneath her as if merely being void from him was going to leave her floating away. She lay there in the bed, listening to Anthony as he moved about the room. Margeaux didn’t know exactly what he was doing. She didn’t think to look, but as he turned off the lights, she was sure he had to be collecting his things so he could leave. But the opening and closing of the door never came. Instead, it was the squeaking of the springs to meet her ears as he crawled into her bed. 

Margeaux cuddled close to him, her head on his chest as she looked at the wall across from them. She could see that the firelight had died. Their friends had turned in for the night. There was no bonfire for them to run back to. With no obligations, they lay there together in silence, avoiding any heavy conversation they could have had. They lay with their bodies intertwined, Anthony’s hand stroking up and down the length of her back slowly and Margeaux’s head resting on his chest. There, she listened to the steady rhythm of his heart, and it was the last thing she heard as she let herself drift off to sleep. 

Part Four.

The last morning at the cabin dawned with a bittersweet quiet. The sun cast a warm golden glow over the trees that cast sprawling shadows into the bedroom where Margeaux had regrettably spent most of her weekend. The first day she had isolated herself completely, spending day and night in the bedroom. The second day, she had let Carrie pressure her into the hike, and the second night she spent with Anthony. But waking up next to him, his warm skin still within her reach as the sun’s light shined down across his features left Margeaux wanting more. 

She wanted more time with her friends to take in the serene beauty of the forest that left her feeling like she was living in a dream. She wanted to learn how to chop up firewood, to forage or even to paddle board if she was feeling bold enough. But most of all, she wanted to spend time with Anthony. To continue playing her little game of what if they hadn’t grown apart all those years ago…

What if she had followed him to New York?

Would they have gotten married?

What if she had reached out when he had been traded to Vancouver? 

Would she have been the cheater instead of the one who had been cheated on?

What if they didn’t have to say goodbye? 

Would he even message her back if she tried?

Margeaux shut her eyes tight, fighting back the tears that began to build. She had come out there for answers, but she seemed to be leaving with even more. Yet, Margeaux answered the most important one she had: What comes next for me? 

The answer was that Margeaux didn’t know what would be next. There was no way for her to tell. Whatever she could imagine happening would be faced by too many unknowns caused by chance or by fate, would alter her course. There would always be a path she didn’t take. 

Margeaux let her tears fall in hot streams that lead down to the corners of her relieved smile. She tasted the salt of her tears with her tongue as she licked them away, only for the palms of her hands to come up to finish the job. 

Anthony rolled over in bed next to her, his hand coming down on her shoulder gently as he spoke, his voice heavy with concern, “hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” Margeaux nodded, “I’m okay.”

They lay there for a moment, the silence heavy. Neither of them spoke, Anthony’s mouth on Margeaux’s shoulder just breathing in the very scent of her. And Margeaux hid her face in the pillows, her eyes shut tight and her chest aching. She wasn’t ready to leave - she wasn’t ready to say goodbye. 

But then, Carrie took the moment she had to do it away from her. She came bursting through the door with little care as to what Margeaux was doing. Eyes on her phone, Carrie was talking before she could even look at Margeaux and Anthony, who nobody knew she had taken to bed, “get up bitch,” she said endearingly. “It’s time to go home. Oh, and I have this for you, consider it a reward for playing nice with Anthony all weekend for me.”

She reached into the pocket of her daisy dukes and drew out Margeaux's phone. Carrie tossed it towards the bed, and her eyes following its course right to where it landed at Anthony's feet. 

“Oh, fuck!” she stumbled back as she shrieked, “I’m so - fuck - sorry!” 

“I’ll be right down!” Margeaux called out after her, her own voice weak with embarrassment. 

Margeaux hadn’t planned on being caught. 

Stumbling out of bed, Margeaux grabbed the clothes that were lost on the floor the night before, and shoved them into her never unpacked bag. She rummaged through it, grabbing a pale yellow sundress and polling it over her bare body. Then Margeaux did something she would quickly regret. She expertly grabbed every single one of her bags and left without even a glance. 

It wasn’t until she was standing at the trunk of the car, yet again in the predicament of trying to make everything fit, that Margeaux looked back at the cabin. She wore a soft smile, thankful that Carrie had convinced her to come, and it only grew as Anthony stumbled out onto the deck in nothing more than the same pair of shorts he had worn the night before. He hadn’t even stopped to put on shoes, which Margeaux was sure he regretted the moment his feet hit the gravel driveway. But that didn’t stop him from walking straight down the driveway to her. 

He stood close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body, and smell the familiar scent of him without it having to get caught in the breeze. The air between them was thick with both humidity and the words left unspoken - anything they wanted to say, they had to say it now.

Finally, Anthony was the one to break the silence. “You all packed up?”

Margeaux almost winced. They had always had an effortlessness about them, but for the first time, it was as if neither of them knew what to say. 

“Yeah, just have to work the last suitcase in,” Margeaux gestured to the car before crossing both arms over her chest. 

There was another pause, filled by the rustle of leaves, the clamor of suitcases as they fell out of the trunk, and Carrie’s string of curses as she was left to play Tetris with the suitcases again. Anthony glances at her, trying to hide a smile as he leaned in one step closer to Margeaux and slipped his hand into his pocket. When he pulled it out, he was grinning ear to ear. “Well, I think you forgot this.”

Margeaux looked down, her face going bright red at the sight of her panties in his hand. “Anthony!” she spoke in a hushed whisper as both hands went to him. She pushed them back down, hiding the light cotton fabric back in his pocket. She let them fall there, loose in the fabric of his pocket, and pulled his hand free to hold. 

“I’ve had enough embarrassment for one day,” she smiled. 

Anthony laughed. Then he smiled as he spoke again, changing the subject as he did, “I’m glad you came… And I’m glad we got to spend some time together.”

Margeaux felt a heavy lump form in the back of her throat. One that she swallowed back with her smile. “Me too. It’s been… it’s been really good for me.”

Anthony took away the remaining space between them and captured her in a tight embrace. His arms were strong and comforting around her, and as much as she should have pulled away, Margeaux let herself sink into the hug. She held him, knowing that it very well may be the last time. She closed her eyes, trying to take a mental picture of the feeling of him, and listened to the steady beat of his heart harmonizing with hers. 

“Thank you Anthony,” her voice trembled as she buried her face into her neck, “for helping me find myself again.”

He didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to. Nothing he could say could mean as more to her than what he had done for her in the limited number of hours they got to be with one another, and he knew that. She knew he did. She could feel it in how he held her tighter, in how his hand so gently stroked through her messy blond hair and down the length of her back. And when they finally pulled back, she could see it in his eyes, too. His gaze was soft and his eyes bright, but the smile he gave her didn’t reach his eyes. 

Maybe he was feeling the same heaviness in his chest too–maybe he didn’t want to say goodbye…

“Take care of yourself, Margeaux,” he told her softly. 

“I will,” she promised, her voice heavy with the emotion she choked to the very back of her throat, “you too–and good luck next season, wherever you end up.”

Anthony nodded, and for a moment looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. Instead, he reached out with one arm and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered there against her skin for a moment, a soft barely there touch before he pulled back and smiled a little wider. This time, Margeaux saw it reach his eyes as he gave her one last lingering look before he turned and walked back up the steps, leaving Margeaux standing by the car as the trunk came down in a sudden thud as Carrie closed it. 

Margeaux jumped in place, her hand lurching to rest over her heart. It raced hard, pounding against the inside of her ribcage as her head snapped to look at her best friend. Carrie was grinning widely, devilishly. “Sorry, did I kill the moment?”

“Moment?” Margeaux’s voice broke. “What moment?”

Did she mean the moment she watched Anthony go, her chest heavy with the weight of their goodbye? Or the part of her that stood there, waiting to see if she herself would call out to him to extend their reconnection beyond their brief reunion in the forest. 

Either way, Margeaux would deny it all if Carrie asked, because she couldn’t even be honest with herself. It was easier that way. She wasn’t ready for another relationship, not now, not so soon after everything that happened. And Anthony? He was a comfort, a reminder of who she used to be when things were simpler, when love was just about date nights at the movies and the fairy tale worlds they thought would come after highschool. 

But so much time had passed, and as much as she still loved him, and always would, they would never be what they once were. Surely, they have changed too much, and the paths they were on led in different directions. 

“You got everything packed up?” Margeaux asked Carrie with a smile, “I need to get out of here. I don’t think I could survive another mosquito bite.”

“Yeah,” Carrie smiled as she moved to stand by the driver’s side, “so get your ass in the car and start a playlist.”

Margeaux's heart jolted with excitement. Her phone! She had her phone! Reaching into her back pocket, Margeaux brought her phone to life with the long hold of the power button. Carrie had kept the battery charged, and for that Margeaux was thankful. The itch to check her social media consumed her body as she got into the passenger’s seat, with Charlotte and Samantha both seated behind her. Instead, she opened her Spotify, put on Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan, and it became their soundtrack as the car pulled out of the drive. She dropped the phone to her lap as she moved along with the music in her seat. 

The buttons hit her lap just right, taking a screen capture of her playlist. Instead of letting it be, Margeaux picked up her phone and went to her gallery to remove it. It was there she saw pictures she had never known were being taken. A collection that started from the moment she had arrived at the cabin, right down to the very moment Anthony had taken her inside the night before to check her for ticks. Carrie had captured every little moment, and Margeaux hadn’t noticed, not even once. 

Margeaux’s lips parted in a wavering breath as she looked at Carrie in the driver’s seat. She was wearing a cheeky grin. 

“Thank you,” Margeaux smiled. 

“You’d do the same for me,” Carrie blew her a kiss playfully, “besides, it’s the least I could do for dragging you out to my booty call and actually getting laid!”

The girls in the back hollered. Samantha even reached around the passenger’s seat and nudged her playfully. But Margeaux paid no mind to it all. Instead, her eyes had found the rearview mirror, and watched as Anthony and the cabin grew smaller and smaller in the rearview until it was nothing more than photos on a screen.  

She had gone to the cabin with her heart broken, but as they drove away, she felt something new. A quiet strength, a sense of peace - she was healing, and it was because of Anthony. Smiling, Margeaux rested her head on the cool glass of the window, tilted just right to have the air conditioning hit her face just right and she put together a playlist that would carry them back home. To the city where she would forge her next path alone and Margeaux, she was ready to embrace it. 

TAGLIST: @equallyshaw , @mp0625 , @charles11700 , @swissboyhisch , @wingedwheelprxncess , @luvmarner , @fandomrejects , @misunderstoodwerewolf , @callsign-denmark , @puckmaidens , @cixrosie , @starshine-hockey-girl

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Caution to the Wind

Wrecker x Fem!Reader

Summary: For her birthday, Omega asks you and Wrecker to ride the roller coaster with her at the fair.

Pairing: Wrecker x Fem!Reader

Characters: Wrecker, Omega, Hunter, Echo, Crosshair, Tech

Tags & Warnings: modern!AU, family fluff, roller coaster, anxiety, fear of heights

Word Count: 2k

Author's Note: Two fics in one weekend 😱 I think I broke a record 😂 Even though it's shorter than most of my one-shots, rest assured, this idea was predetermined at the beginning and didn't come from my panic that I only have a week left to finish my bingo card 😅 I love the Bad Batch and their characters, but inspiration is a very fickle thing. As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Wrecker

It's a beautiful summer day, and as you walk through the crowds of people your senses are filled with the smells of funnel cakes and fried oreos, and the sounds of kids screaming on the fast, colorful, rides at the midway. Today is Omega's birthday, and to celebrate she wanted to spend the day at the local fair with her brothers. Their girlfriends were also allowed to come, making for a fun family day for everyone. It's been forever since you've gone to a fair, so you're also excited.

Omega sits atop Hunter's shoulders and points out everything she wants to do, eat, and ride. Tech keeps a running list of what she says so they don't forget something, including the firework show at the end. Echo is in charge of the map to make sure they take the most efficient path. Crosshair isn't much of a fairgoer, but he would never pass up an opportunity to wipe the floor with the dads at the fair games and win Omega the biggest stuffed animal available.

Then there's you and Wrecker. He's just as excited as Omega to enjoy the fair, but what he's most excited about is the food. Fair food is the best. There's nothing quite like deep fried candy bars and cheap corndogs smothered in ketchup and mustard. You're not sure where he keeps packing it away, but you had to stop after the fried pickles and take a break. You sit down on a bench to rest for a minute, when Wrecker walks over carrying a massive red and blue slushy.

Your eyes widen. "Please tell me that's not for me."

Wrecker laughs. "It's for both of us."

"Oh, thank God," you breathe in relief. You rub your stomach when you feel it gurgle.

"Not feelin' well?" Wrecker asks as he sits down and rubs your back.

"Just ate too much," you answer. "I'll be fine in a bit."

"Guess I'll have to drink this myself then," Wrecker says.

"Knock yourself out," you chuckle.

You continue to relax on the bench under the shade of a tree while you wait for your stomach to settle. It's the middle of the day, and the sun is beating down hard and hot. Everyone is taking a break now around the same bench, making sure to hydrate so the fun can continue without issue. You also end up taking a few sips of that slushy. Omega becomes restless as she plucks pieces of grass impatiently while sitting on the ground waiting to have fun again.

"Can we go now?" Omega asks while tugging on Hunter's pant leg.

"Ten more minutes," Hunter says as he leans against the tree and looks down at Omega.

Omega flops onto her back and groans. "The fair will be closed in ten minutes."

"Actually, the fair will close in approximately eight hours," Tech adds.

 "See?" Echo says as he pats Omega's leg. "Plenty of time to enjoy the rest of the fair."

Omega sits up and rolls her eyes.

"So," you begin, while trying to change the subject, "what's next on the list?"

"Hmm," Omega thinks. "The rides! Definitely the rides."

"Are you sure you don't want to save those until it gets dark?" Echo asks. "The lights on the rides are pretty at night."

Omega pouts.

"Let the kid go on the rides," Crosshair argues. "We've got the wristbands, so we can always come back after it gets dark."

Omega's face lights up and she tugs harder on Hunter's pant leg. "Hunter, please? Can we go now? I want to go on the rides."

Hunter sighs.

"Aw, c'mon, Hunter," Wrecker says. "It's the kid's birthday."

Hunter glances at Echo and Echo shrugs. "Fine. Let's go."

"Yes!" Omega exclaims as she jumps up from the ground.

You smile at her excitement, and stretch your arms above your head as you get up from the bench. You definitely feel more rested, and your stomach has settled since you sat down and stopped eating food. You're not sure about going on any of the rides though. You love the fair as long as you stay on the ground. You mostly enjoy the little shops, stands, music, food, and the animals, but not the rides. They make your stomach queasy, but mostly, you're afraid of heights.

However, for Omega's birthday, you will play along for as much as you can, even if you stay behind to hold everyone's belongings while they go on the rides. Someone has to do it, so it might as well be you. The first ride Omega chooses is an easy one, the carousel. Now that's a ride you can handle, and everyone can still carry their belongings onto the ride. It's not too fast and not too high, just perfect for someone like you, and possibly the only ride you'll go on.

After the carousel, the group hops from one ride to the next. Your plan of staying back and holding everyone's belongings is working out very well, and so far, no one has questioned it. Wrecker knows your apprehension towards rides and fear of heights, so he doesn't have to ask. Even through his own fear of heights, he still goes on the rides with Omega and everyone else. You admire him for working through his fear, for his little sister's sake, and wish you could too.

After a couple more hours of rides, the sun starts sinking lower in the sky and the heat of the day passes, with a slight breeze blowing in from the east. You thought that Omega would be tired by now from all of the walking and rides, but no, she is still moving like she was this morning. You don't know where she gets all of the energy from, but you now understand why Hunter is so tired all of the time. Keeping up with that ball of energy must be exhausting for him.

Just as you think you'll be leaving the midway to get more snacks and drinks before the firework show, Omega pulls everyone to one last ride. The roller coaster. You look up at the colossal giant of twisting metal and lose your breath as a cart of screaming people flies by across from you. That's one big nope from you. You are happy to just stay on the ground and let everyone else fly down that hill to their deaths. You take a seat on the bench by the line and try to relax.

"C'mon," Omega says as she pulls on your hand. "We're going on the roller coaster!"

You instinctively shrink down further onto the bench. "Oh, no, Omega. I can't."

"Please?" she pleads. "I want us all to go."

"Really, I–"

"It's for the kids' birthday," Crosshair interrupts. "If I have to put up with it, so do you."

"I don't like roller coasters," you explain. "They're way too high and scary."

"The probability of getting hurt on a roller coaster is one in one hundred and seventy million," Tech adds. "You will be fine by my calculation."

Echo elbows Tech and gives him a look. "Really?"

Tech pushes his glasses up. "My calculations are never wrong."

"Guys, please," you say. "I'm really afraid of heights. I can't do it."

"Wrecker is afraid of heights," Hunter notes, "and he's gone on everything."

"Well, maybe my fear of heights and his fear of heights are different," you argue.

"Mesh'la," Wrecker says as he sits on the bench next to you. "If you sit next to me, you know I won't let anything bad happen to you."

"But–"

"Just this once," Wrecker insists. "For Omega."

You sigh and look into Wrecker's soulful eyes. "Promise nothing will happen?"

"Promise," Wrecker says with a comforting smile.

You take a deep breath and exhale slowly. "Okay, let's go before I change my mind."

"Yes!" Omega exclaims. "Roller coaster here we come!"

The wait in line for the roller coaster is rather short, so you don't get a lot of time to overthink your absolutely horrible decision. You're not sure how you let them talk you into it, but here you are, stepping into the car of a roller coaster and regretting every second of it. You chose a car in the middle of the roller coaster, because both being in the front or the back is terrifying, then Wrecker squeezes in after you. He pulls the safety bar down and drapes his arm over your shoulder.

"Wreck," you say with a shaky voice. "I don't think I can do this."

"Just hold onto me," Wrecker says. "I gotcha."

You clamp your hands onto Wrecker's arm as best you can and squeeze your eyes shut. You want to get off, but the ride hasn't even started yet. You can hear Omega in one of the cars in front of you giggling in anticipation, while you, on the other hand, are hyperventilating and hanging on for dear life. Every terrifying possibility and horrific outcome races through your mind all at once and you wonder if you should have written a will before you let yourself get on the ride.

It's too late now. You feel the car jerk beneath you and the chain clanking as it pulls the line of cars down the track and towards the first hill. Every muscle in your body is tense and you don't dare to open your eyes, but you still feel it. You feel it moving beneath you along the track and your anxiety grows when your body leans back against the hard seat as the coaster is pulled up the first hill. Every alarm bell in your head is going off, warning you that you won't survive the drop.

Then it stops, and for a moment you let yourself relax, thinking you must be at the top of the hill. Of course, where else could you be? The anticipation of what's to come overwhelms your already tense body and you steal a peek, but instantly regret it. You're up, high up, very high up, and the only way down is to let the coaster take you there, but you don't want it to move. You feel sick and you hold onto Wrecker's arm even tighter, wondering if he feels the same way.

Before you can get the answer, you're careening down the hill at top speed. The rushing wind blows your hair wildly as your stomach enters your throat as the feeling of weightlessness takes over. But before you can pass out, your weight returns, pushing your butt back down into the seat. Now that your breath is back, you can finally scream. You scream for dear life, and you're pretty sure Wrecker is having as much of a horrible time as you are, but he stays strong for you.

Thankfully, the ride comes to a stop back at the station. The safety bars release, but you've got one solid grip on the bar and another on Wrecker's arms, refusing to let go, even though the ride is over. Your body has clamped down and you're stuck. You won't even open your eyes. Even if you try to move, you know your legs will be wobbly and you'll probably fall over, or at the least look ridiculous trying to exit the ride. Then you feel two strong arms lifting you out of the seat.

"I've got you," Wrecker soothes. "You're okay."

"Am I alive?" you ask with a shaky voice, eyes still squeezed shut.

"I think so," Wrecker says, then pinches your arm.

"Ow!" you yell and open your eyes.

"Yup," Wrecker says. "Alive and well."

You can't help but laugh. "Thanks."

Wrecker smiles and gives you a soft kiss on the forehead, which you lean into to help soothe your shot nerves.

"C'mon, guys!" Omega calls. "We're gonna miss the firework show!"

"Can you handle that?" Wrecker asks.

You sigh as your body begins to relax. "As long as I get to stay on the ground I can."

"Can do," Wrecker smiles, then drops your legs so you can stand.

"Actually, can you carry me?" you ask with big doe eyes. "I'm so tired and my legs feel like jelly."

"Always," Wrecker says, then picks you back up and follows after the rest of the group.

Masterlist

AO3

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[laurenairay]

we’re lost and found - A. Beauvillier

Summary: “It’s always going to be you, Bells.”

One visit to Vancouver changes everything for the friendship of Anthony Beauvillier and Isabella Thornton.

A/N: This is my entry for @wyattjohnston​‘s birthday bingo!! I really hope you enjoy this Demi – I cycled through various combinations and players before I was happy with the following for Beau: trade angst, friends to lovers, playlists as a love language, “it’s always going to be you”, the morning after the night before. I haven’t written a full fic for Beau before so this was a fun challenge! And yes, I fudged the last game in the Canucks schedule for creative licensing. Happy birthday my dear 💛

Title from Wings, by Birdy. Here is the final playlist mentioned in the story. 

Words: 14k

Warnings: angst, miscommunication, sappy sweetness, idiots in love.

Thank you @cellythefloshie​ for being the most amazing beta and cheerleader while I was writing this!

*

“Cabin crew, prepare for landing. Ladies and gentlemen, we will shortly be arriving in Vancouver. Please ensure all hand luggage is stowed, tray tables are folded away, and your seatbelts are fastened.”

Even as her stomach swooped with the slow descent of the airplane, Isabella couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. She’d been up since the crack of dawn. Her first flight from JFK airport leaving at 7am, and with the layover stop in Seattle lasting one and a half hours, she was more than ready to be done with travelling for the day. It wasn’t that Isabella disliked flying though – she just wanted to be on solid ground. This trip was to be a mixture of business and pleasure; her work wanted her to go to an industry conference to support a couple of the Sales guys giving speeches, her marketing role allowing her that first-hand experience; the conference was scheduled from Tuesday 11th April to Thursday 13th April, but she had decided to fly in on the Saturday before, also taking a vacation day either side of the conference, to extend her time in Vancouver.

Why? Because one of her closest friends had moved from New York to Vancouver only a couple of months ago, and she missed him more than words could describe. It seemed like he felt the same way, because the moment Isabella had mentioned the conference and that she was able to take a couple of vacation days around it, he’d immediately offered for her to stay at his apartment, giving them the time to catch-up, to spend the time together like they hadn’t been able to in so long.

There was no universe in which she would ever say no to Anthony Beauvillier.

So here she was, Saturday 8th April, ready to spend some time with one of the most important people in her life. Soon enough the plane landed and made its way to the gate, allowing everyone to exit. Thankfully Isabella’s suitcase arrived quickly and her journey through security was smooth, so in no time at all she was walking out into the arrivals hall, eyes scanning the crowd of people.

And then she spotted him.

The moment Anthony noticed her too, smile spreading wide across his face, it felt like a breath of fresh air. Finally. Isabella wasted no time in rushing over to him, dropping her suitcase to throw her arms over his shoulders, Anthony hugging her just as tightly too. It was all she could do to bury her face in his neck, breathing in that familiar cologne as well as the scent that was just Anthony himself while he buried his face in her long dark hair.

She’d missed him. She’d missed him so much. Talking to him over the phone just wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t even close to replacing what it felt like to see and hold him in person. After what felt like eternity and yet somehow not long enough, she let him go, dropping her arms from around his neck, taking a single step backwards to look him up and down.

“Damn, you look good Beau! West-Coast Canadian air clearly does wonders for you,” she grinned, hamming up the compliments to make him squirm just as she liked.

A familiar light flush dusted his cheeks as he shook his head fondly. “Says the New York fashionista gracing us with her presence.”

Her tanned cheeks flushed too at his compliment, but she just laughed and batted at his chest before picking up her suitcase from where it had fallen on the floor. Flattery would always work with her and he knew it.

“I missed you,” Anthony said suddenly, smiling softly as he took the suitcase without saying a word.

Such a sweetheart.

“I missed you too. 10 weeks without you and my life is poorer for it,” Isabella said with a dramatic sigh.

Anthony blushed heavily this time, ducking his gaze, making her smile as she laughed. So cute.

“I know I’m mainly here for work, really, but I’m looking forward to spending the rest of my time with you,” she said, threading her arm through his.

“Me too. You’re going to have a great time, I promise.”

She knew she would, even just by being in his company, but she didn’t need to say that out loud.

With her arm still linked with his, Anthony guided her back to where he’d parked his car, lifting her suitcase into the trunk like the gentleman he was.

“Thank you for the new playlist for my flight, by the way,” Isabella said, wiggling her phone to show what she meant as she got into the front passenger seat.

“No problem, Bells, you know that. It’s our thing, right? It’s not like I could let you travel out here for the first time without a new list to listen to,” Anthony shrugged, starting the engine.

From the small smile on his lips, she knew he was far from nonchalant. He was right too – making playlists for each other really was their thing. When she’d started hanging out with him and Mat and some of the other Isles boys, Isabella and Anthony had bonded over their shared love of music, sharing recommendations on Spotify almost immediately. Making playlists started with creating background music for parties held at their various apartments, but, for whatever reason, over time it grew into the two of them making playlists just for each other. She’d lost count of the number of playlists she’d made him for his long travels on the road, and the amount of study playlists he’d made for her were in the dozes over all her college years. Then there were birthdays, holidays, vacations abroad as a group, and just general ‘you seem down, let me cheer you up’ playlists.

Making playlists for each other was something that Isabella and Anthony had made into something that was just theirs, and she treasured it.

“I loved the Twenty One Pilots songs you chose,” she said, smiling.

“Catchy, right?” Anthony mused, “I wasn’t sure about those Bastille songs though.”

The vibes of these playlists of important, they both knew that. But like always, he’d nailed it.

“They were perfect. The whole list was great, I promise,” Isabella insisted.

This time, his pleased smile shone through. She loved that he loved putting together all these songs just for her – the same way that she loved doing it for him. Was it wrong to cherish something with him that was hers and hers alone?

The drive to Anthony’s apartment felt like it flew by as they continued to talk about the music they’d both been listening to lately, and soon enough she was walking through the front door of his apartment.

“We’ve got a couple of hours before I need to leave for the arena and then you’ll still have a few hours before you should leave to head down too, so plenty of time for you to settle into the guest room and unpack your stuff. I’ve got a fabric steamer if you need them for your conference clothes?” Anthony explained, locking the front door behind them.

The thought he put into everything was astounding.

“I probably will need to steam out some creases at some point,” she mused, thinking of the three blazers she’d packed, “But that can wait until Monday night. How about you give me a tour?”

There was no way she wanted to think about anything to do with work until she absolutely had to. The next couple of days were all about relaxing. Sure, Anthony would be flying out for two games in California tomorrow, but that just meant she wanted to make the most of the time she had with him.

As he showed her around the two-bed apartment, Isabella could admit that it was pretty sparse. At least compared to the apartment he had in New York – but he’d only been here just over two months, so she knew she couldn’t expect him to have fully settled in yet. She could only hope that he was going to give himself the chance to settle in properly, especially since the Canucks season was technically over.

Sure, they still had four games left to play, including tonight’s, but mathematically they were already out of the playoffs. Isabella could only imagine how that felt for him. It was something that they hadn’t really discussed, if she was being honest. The trade was a sensitive subject in their friendship group, and she hadn’t known how to ask how Anthony felt about it when the trade had first been announced. But she worried about him, being out here all by himself. How could she not?

At least there were elements of his personality in the apartment, a framed poster here, photos of his family there, silly polaroids of their friendship group in New York on the fridge with magnets. It was enough to settle the worst of her concerns, and by the time she’d dumped her bags in the spare bedroom he’d declared was hers for the week, she noticed that the edge of tension had melted away from him too.

“I know it’s not much yet but…”

“But nothing, Beau,” Isabella interrupted, smiling as she leant against the doorframe, “You’ve only been here a short while – you’ll make this a home in no time.”

“You think?” he asked, his hesitance obvious.

Well that wouldn’t do.

“I know. Now come on, feed me before you need to leave for the game,” she said firmly.

“That’s the Bells I know,” he snickered.

Isabella just laughed at the accuracy – he really did know her - before sticking out her tongue at him and making him laugh. There was the smile she loved.

Isabella took a quick shower while Anthony cooked them lunch, an easy healthy chicken stir fry, and all too soon it was time for him to leave her alone. While she felt a tiny sense of trepidation about being in a new city all by herself, she knew that she only had a little time to kill before she was going to see him again anyway, so she pushed it down as much as she could.

“You’ve got the phone numbers of people at the arena to call if there’s an emergency, right?” Anthony asked, pulling on his suit jacket.

“I can 99% guarantee you that there will be no emergencies in the two hours before I leave here too. But yes I have them – so go, Beau!” Isabella giggled.

He held up his hands in surrender but smiled down at her anyway, kissing her on the cheek before he walked out the door. Isabella sighed softly, fingers rising to brush over the same skin his lips had brushed, smiling fondly. That was a particular tradition she’d missed as well, the casual affection he’d always shown her. She didn’t know if it was a Québécois thing, or just an Anthony thing, but she’d missed it all the same. It was sweet, just like everything he did.

As she settled in on the sofa, she sent out a few text messages to let various people know she’d arrived safely; some of her friends at work, Mat, her mom. She’d fully intended on ignoring the replies, knowing nothing urgent would be coming through, but when she saw 5 notifications from Mat, she opened up their text thread out of curiosity.

~

From: Mat Bells! You made it! Beau has been buzzing all morning. Give him a kiss from me. After he’s kicked some Flames ass obvi.

~

This guy. Isabella rolled her eyes fondly, smiling at the energy she could read even in his words, before biting her bottom lip. Anthony had been buzzing? He hadn’t seemed that way to her – sure, he was happy to see her, all smiles and long hugs, but buzzing? Hm.

~

From: Isabella I’ll pass along your kiss, weirdo. He seemed pretty chill to me?

~

From: Mat That’s because he got all of his crazy energy out by texting me. You know he wants your trip to be amazing. You are going to his game tonight, right?

~

From: Isabella If you say so Barzy. I wouldn’t miss his game for the world.

~

Mat didn’t text back again, so Isabella just chalked down the strange exchange to him missing his friend too. Still…no. Barzy was being Barzy, and that’s all there was to it. The two hours after Anthony left flew by, Isabella just getting herself lost in a good book, and it wasn’t long before she was walking towards her seat in the arena. Along with leaving a new Canucks jersey (with his name on the back, of course) for her in the hall closet, Anthony had left her ticket at will call, which she picked up easily after the uber she took dropped her right out front. Just as she’d requested when he had asked, she was in the bottom tier but at the back – she didn’t want anything ostentatious – and with an overpriced beer in hand, she took her seat.

Right from the start, the game was a nail biter. She cheered at the top of her lungs as Pettersson and McWard scored for the Canucks with all the supporters around her. Only for her to be left wincing when Lindholm and Kadri scored for the Flames in the third period, on the edge of her seat as the game finished out at 2-2. She could see the frustration in the team’s faces, let alone in their body language, and the moment that the shootout started her heart was pounding in her chest.

As soon as Kuzmenko scored the winning goal, Isabella leapt to her feet yelling in celebration with the crowd around her, the biggest smile on her face as the team celebrated on the ice. What a way to end of the game.

There was no rush she’d ever felt like watching a hockey game live in person - and now she was lucky enough to go congratulate her friend face to face rather than over text. Arriving early ahead of her conference really had been such a good idea. Anthony had texted her the instructions for how to get down to the tunnel to wait for him, so she followed those after the stands had emptied out a bit, not wanting to fight through the crowd. At the very least it meant she didn’t have to wait as long in the tunnel by herself, and soon enough Anthony was walking out to meet her, shy smile on his face.

Shy? No, that wouldn’t do.

“Beau! Congratulations!” she said cheerfully, loudly enough to draw a bit of attention to them and to get that familiar blush she loved to see rising on his cheeks.

“You enjoyed it then?” he mused.

There was enough hesitance in his voice to let her know he needed her reassurance, and she wasted no time in hugging him tightly, smiling as he immediately hugged her back.

“I had the best time. Talk about a nail biter!” she laughed, pulling back just far enough to look up at his face, “You know I love watching you play.”

The rosiness of his cheeks let her know that her honesty had been the right thing to say.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” Anthony murmured, squeezing her slightly before letting his arms drop.

“Ooh, wait, there’s something I need to give you,” she said quickly, clutching at his hands.

Anthony froze slightly, but made the most interesting gasping noise as she leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a big wet smacking kiss on his cheek.

“W-What?”

Isabella just grinned, letting go of him. “That is from Barzy.”

Anthony’s smile seemed to falter slightly before he huffed out a laugh. “Of course. That sounds like him. I’ll have to text him to say thanks.”

Isabella snickered. At least their mutual friend couldn’t say she didn’t pass along his message. That’s what friends were for!

“What’s the plan now then?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

“It’s up to you, really. A few of the guys are going out for drinks if you wanted to go too? It’s not going to be a crazy one because we are flying out to LA tomorrow, but it might be fun for you to meet some of the team? But if you’re tired from travelling then we can absolutely just head back to my place,” he explained.

The hopeful look in his eyes made her smile. He really wanted her to meet his new team, didn’t he? He wanted her to like them – it was important to him, she could tell. So there was only one answer she could give.

“Let’s go out for a couple of drinks then! Maybe if jetlag finally hits we could leave early?” she suggested.

She had been awake since 3.30am after all, having left for the airport at 4am. Relaxing for a couple of hours ahead of the adrenaline of the game had helped keep her going, but she knew it would hit her at some point. But meeting his new team was important to Anthony, so she wanted to do what she could, even if it wasn’t her at 100%.

“Perfect. You just let me know whenever and we can head out,” he said firmly.

Such a sweetheart.

In the end, she lasted around two hours before she felt her social battery dipping into dangerously low levels, starting to space out of conversation even though she’d only had two vodka sodas, and in no time at all Anthony was guiding her through the front door of his apartment all over again. His teammates had been so sweet – at least the ones that she’d met tonight – and seeing the smile that all their interactions put on Anthony’s face filled her heart. Even after 10 weeks, it was clear that he’d found a good space for himself here, just as he deserved to and just as she’d hoped. Brock, Petey, Quinn, Thatcher, Travis and Ethan, along with their partners (those that had them) were all so friendly and welcoming, and she’d enjoyed telling stories about her time in New York with Anthony, as well as hearing how well he was settling into the team in Vancouver.

It had been everything she’d wanted for the first day of her visit – what more could she have asked for?

“Okay I’ve got cold bottles of water in the fridge or I picked up that brand of peppermint tea that you like,” Anthony said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Peppermint tea?

“You don’t drink peppermint tea, Beau,” she frowned, “you bought it especially for me?”

“Well, yeah, Bells. Of course I did,” he shrugged, although a light blush hit his cheeks.

This guy.

“Peppermint tea would be great,” she said softly, still a little stunned that he went through the trouble for her.

What a perfect way to wind down. The two of them sat on the sofa while she drank her tea and he drank a bottle of water, talking about all the things Anthony wanted to buy for the apartment when he came back next season (a couple of throw rugs, art for the hallway walls, a new smoothie maker, and so on). It felt like they were back in New York, like no time had passed and nothing had changed, which only made her heart pang a little more when it was eventually time to go to bed. She was flagging, hard, and he had an early start tomorrow, as much as she didn’t want this little bubble to end.

“Good night, Bells,” Anthony murmured, leaning against the doorway to the spare bedroom.

“Good night, Beau,” she murmured back, not wanting to break the moment as those blue eyes caught with her own dark brown ones.

He smiled softly, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of her head before he walked down the hallway to his own room, leaving her feeling like she was floating on air.

What a first day indeed.

*

“Wakey wakey eggs and bakey!”

Isabella groaned at the loud sound of her best friend’s voice, eyes blearily looking over to where he was standing in the open doorway.

“What?” she groaned, “What are you doing?”

“First of all, I tried knocking, like, three separate times. Second, I made eggs and bacon and toast, duh. Breakfast, remember? Before I fly out with the team?” he teased.

Oh fuck, yeah of course. How could she forget? Anthony took one look at the expression on her face and burst out laughing.

“There’s also coffee. Clearly you need some,” he snickered.

Rude. Accurate, but rude. Isabella flipped him the bird, making him laugh harder, but at least he left her alone to deal with her bedhead. Her natural curls were a pain in the mornings, especially without taking a shower to deal with them properly, so she just threw them up on top of her head into a loose bun while she headed to the bathroom. She’d already decided she would be straightening her hair for her conference, for ease through those long days, but for now this would have to do. It wasn’t like Anthony hadn’t seen her looking worse.

After quickly washing and dressing into leggings and an oversized sweater, Isabella headed out into the kitchen, wordlessly accepting the coffee mug that Anthony pressed into her hands with a smile. Mmm perfect.

“Thanks for this, Beau. You’re amazing,” she murmured happily.

Interestingly, the back of Anthony’s neck flushed red, his back turned to her as he plated up their food.

“It’s just coffee, Bells,” he said, shrugging.

No it wasn’t and he knew that.

“Okay, scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and wholemeal toast, bon appétit.”

“Merci beaucoup.”

Anthony grinned at her attempt at French, Isabella just grinning back.

“So what are you going to do today and tomorrow? Your conference doesn’t start until Tuesday, right?” he asked, scooping up some eggs with his toast.

“I’m not going to do much, I won’t lie,” she mused, earning a grin, “I might take a walk around your neighbourhood today, maybe find a coffee shop or something? And then just a chilled night in, probably with take-out. Tomorrow though…hm, I probably need to do my nails before the conference so I’ll either pop out to buy some nail polish or I’ll book an appointment in a salon? If the weather is nice I might get lunch out, have a walk in downtown, see the sights? And I do want to get a bit of preparation work done before everything starts on Tuesday, ahead of watching your game against the Kings.”

She’d had enough time on her flights to plan at least a few things at least anyway. What? Isabella liked to be prepared.

“You don’t have to watch my game if you’re busy with work,” Anthony frowned.

What?

“Beau, in what world would I not watch one of your games?” she asked, confused.

“I just…I mean, I…”

He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, only confusing her further.

“It’s hard enough that I don’t get to see you anymore. Watching your games is the closest thing I have,” she said, frowning.

The look that passed across his face could only be described as devastation. “Fuck, Bells, you can’t just say things like that,” he said softly.

“Why not? I mean it, Beau. You’re one of my best friends. I love watching you play, you know that,” she said simply.

Anthony smiled slightly at her, but it looked strained. “I know you are. And I appreciate that more than you know.”

“But?” she prompted.

He hesitated for a moment, before letting out a shaky laugh and shaking his head. “But it’s too early and neither of us have had enough caffeine,” he deflected.

Isabella narrowed her eyes but took a big gulp of her coffee in response, making him laugh and roll his eyes fondly.

“Never change Isabella Thornton,” he mused.

“Oh ouch, full name. Definitely too early for that,” she said, grimacing dramatically.

Anthony just laughed louder.

In the end, the rest of her Sunday was spent exactly as she described to him. After he left, giving her a long lingering hug in the hallway after leaving her a spare key, she did in fact wander around his neighbourhood, taking in the cutesy local park and little shops, spending a couple of hours in a coffee shop with the book she’d started reading the previous afternoon. It was a good way to spend a time, nice and chilled exactly how she liked her downtime.

Before he’d left too, Anthony had given her the rundown of his favourite local restaurants, including an amazing Thai place that she knew she had to try – so that night, before taking a shower to sort out her wayward hair, she placed a takeaway order. Isabella hadn’t been able to decide between the panang beef curry with jasmine rice and the tofu pad see ew, so in the end she’d ordered both. Whatever she didn’t eat, she would eat tomorrow after her first day at the conference finished, ahead of watching Anthony play against the Kings. It was just logical, right?

By the time she had her curls plopped up in an old t-shirt, ahead of straightening them when they were fully dry in the morning, the food had arrived. The smell of both dishes was heavenly – she’d have to thank Anthony for his recommendation for sure.

Her phone buzzed twice. Beau 💛. Speak of the devil.

~

From: Anthony Heading out to team dinner soon. Hope you didn’t get lost wandering around today?

~

Isabella barked out a laugh at the very idea of her just wandering around lost and not telling him, but found herself smiling anyway. He was concerned about her – so sweet, as always.

~

From: Isabella No I didn’t get lost. Thanks for checking though. Just ordered myself some take-out actually!

~

She included a selfie of her holding up one of the take-out boxes, pulling a ridiculous duck face pout to hopefully make him laugh. It was far from the first time the two of them had exchanged silly photos, and she doubted it would be the last. While she waited for a response, she forked some noodles into her mouth, clicking on the TV to find some entertainment for the rest of her evening.

Three buzzes.

~

From: Anthony The Thai place! Great choice! Kinda wish I was eating that with you rather than the steakhouse we’re heading too lol. You look very cute and comfy.

~

She found her cheeks heating up with a light blush at his last words, quickly shaking her head to rid herself of any ridiculous thought. He didn’t mean it like that. He just didn’t.

~

From: Isabella Thank you for recommending the place, it’s SO good. Nah you enjoy the steakhouse Beau!

~

She didn’t expect to hear back from him, not with the game starting so soon, but the simple ‘xxx’ he sent her made her whole body warm. This guy, seriously.

Isabella knew how lucky she was to have a friend like him in her life. Unapologetically kind and sweet, always had her back, never failed to make sure that she was happy. Anthony was one of a kind, a true gentleman, and the fact that their chance friendship had turned into such an important part of her life was something she cherished.

She’d still been in college when they’d met, a mutual friend dragging her along to a party, and ever since that first night they’d just clicked. It didn’t make sense, not really, their worlds having very little crossover. But Isabella knew back then that all of that didn’t matter, proven by the fact that they stayed closed when she graduated college, stopping going to 99% of the parties, and Anthony stayed up in the show, proving himself night after night.

And now she was here – in his home in Vancouver while he was away, curled up on his sofa with his blanket draped around her. If anyone had told her five years ago that this is where she would be, she probably would’ve laughed – in what dreams was she going to build such a strong friendship with a handsome young NHL player? But this was her reality, it did happen, and there was no way she was letting him drift away, especially now that he’d moved so far away.

Isabella sent Anthony a text before she turned herself in for an early night, knowing she’d need to be up early to give herself the time to straighten her hair properly in the morning. It took less than 30 seconds to get a response back from him, making her laugh softly at his eagerness as she slipped into the guest bed.

~

From: Anthony Sweet dreams! 💛

~

She tried not to think too hard about how the little heart gave her butterflies.

*

Monday passed quicker than Isabella thought it would. Just as she’d told him – just as she’d planned – she treated herself to a manicure in a salon downtown as well as treated herself to a lunch out near the Quayside Marina, going for a walk along the waterfront before she did some prep work for her conference. It was only last minute checks of the presentations she would be part of, but she knew it would allow her to sleep easier without the what-if anxiety playing on her mind.

Along with eating the remaining Thai take-out and taking the time to straighten her thick curls ahead of the conference the next day, Isabella also watched Anthony play against the Kings on his stupidly big TV. The 3-0 loss made her ache inside, especially with how dejected the team looked even through the screen, and the moment that he texted her to ask if he could call, she didn’t hesitate to call him first.

His patented Sad Beau face made her ache even more, and it was all she could do to try to comfort him. She hated when he looked as sad as he did after this loss, the wear and tear of the season bearing down on him, but she wasn’t going to miss the chance to at least attempt to make him feel better. If she could help just a little bit, ease that sadness, then she would – seeing him look all soft with his fluffy hair and glasses in his hotel room was motivation enough.

The sweet smile she managed to drag out of him by the time they said goodnight was everything she could’ve hoped for.

All too soon, Tuesday 11th rolled around, and Isabella walked into the hotel the conference was being held in with her work laptop and an air of confidence she only partially-felt. Usually she had no problem talking to people – give her a bar or a party or a restaurant or even a casual barbecue and she could chat away for hours. But when it mattered? When the opinions of the people she talked to about their impression of her would be a deciding factor in whether her company would get their business in the coming year? It was terrifying.

But she was dressed the part, wearing her grey bodycon dress and black blazer like armour, her hair pin straight and her make-up perfect, and that gave her the boost to be able to fake her she was feeling.

At least her two Sales colleagues couldn’t tell how nervous she was when the three of them set up the company booth. By the time they were finished setting up, people were still walking in, so Isabella volunteered to grab them all a coffee. She hadn’t had time for her usual caffeine intake before she’d left for the conference – something she was definitely going to make sure she did ahead of Day Two – so this was more of an excuse to be able to wake herself up properly, to make sure she stayed at her best on this opening day.

Just as she returned to the booth and passed out the requested coffee, her phone buzzed. Beau 💛

~

From: Anthony Good luck today! Kick some ass!

~

Oh how sweet. Even though he undoubtedly had a late night after playing the Kings yesterday and travelled to Anaheim today at some point too, he was thinking about her?

~

From: Isabella I will do my best to kick ass, metaphorically. Good luck to you too! And kick some actual ass yourself! I’ll be watching the game tonight at yours again.

~

From: Anthony 💛 💛 💛

~

Again, his response came through incredibly quickly, making her think he was just waiting for her to text him. Why would he do that? Surely he had better things to do than wait around for her to text him?

And why did he only text three hearts?

Isabella found herself completely lost in thoughts, overthinking everything he could mean and everything he likely didn’t mean, and everything in between. It wasn’t like her to overanalyse every interaction with Anthony, but maybe it was the Vancouver air, or the fact that they’d been separated for the longest time in years. She honestly didn’t know where it was coming from, and she hated how uncertain it all made her feel. What was he playing at? Why was he acting like this, now? Was she just reading too much into it?

“Uh, Isabella?”

A deep voice to her left broke her out of her spiral, and she jumped slightly at the hand awkwardly waving in front of her face.

“Sorry Jerry, the caffeine hasn’t kicked in yet,” she said, forcing a laugh, “What’s up?”

He just laughed, taking her lie without question. “We need to go set up for the presentation. We’re up first today, remember?”

“Of course, let me grab my laptop,” she nodded.

It was simple enough to set-up and get the presentation going, if she was being honest, just clicking through the presentation slides while he was talking on stage (and their other colleague was manning the booth), and it allowed her to drift along on auto-pilot, only needing to focus on his talk and the screen in front of her. Thankfully she only needed to give input on one question he was asked in the Q&A portion, and she found herself smiling as everything finished to a hearty applause, accepting Jerry’s subtle high-five with a laugh.

The rest of the conference went smoothly, Isabella mainly able to listen to the other speeches given and take notes to feed back to the executive board while her Sales colleagues focused on schmoozing other attendees. It was one of the perks of being a marketing team member at a conference – outside of the presentations, the pressure really was off her. And at least her two colleagues this time were decent guys, rather than some of the assholes she’d been paired with before, so she didn’t hesitate to accept joining them at the after-drinks. With the conference finishing at 3pm, she allowed herself a few hours to relax and drink a couple of cocktails, but as soon as it hit 6pm she was in an uber on the way back to Anthony’s apartment. There was no way she was going to miss his game, not even if she’d had one of the best cranberry martinis she’d ever drank.

By the time the game started at 7pm, Isabella was dressed in her pyjamas was a bowl of pasta in her lap, willing the team to have a better result than the night before. For Anthony’s sake, if nothing else. And what a game it was. The moment that the buzzer sounded, ending the game with a 3-2 win over the Ducks, Isabella’s face hurt from smiling, and she wasted no time in reaching for her phone and thumbing open her message thread with Anthony.

~

From: Isabella YESSSSSS! Go Canucks! I’m so proud of you Beau. What a great game. 3-2 baby! I know you’re probably going out for drinks or dinner or whatever with the team. But call me when you get back to your hotel?

~

Isabella lost track of time while she waited for him to respond, distracting herself with washing up all the things she’d used to make dinner as well as doing her night-time facecream routine, so by the time her phone buzzed with a video call request, she was sitting on her bed up against the pillows. The moment that his smiling face appeared on her screen, something settled in her chest that she didn’t realise she was holding onto. He already looked so much happier than when they spoke the night before, and she found herself sinking against the headboard with a smile of her own.

“Hello Beau,” Isabella said fondly, “That’s the smile I like to see.”

“Hey Bells. You like my smile?”

She blushed at his teasing words, but powered through. “You know I do. Happy Beau is much better than Sad Beau.”

“I wasn’t Sad Beau.”

“You were sad enough,” she mused.

He just huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

“No-one else calls me out like you do.”

Her breath hitched in his throat at his words, making her hesitate slightly before answering. “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s a very good thing. You help remind me to keep the bad balanced with good, that there’s still positive things in my life even when everything feels like shit. I appreciate that more than you know.”

She resolutely ignored the butterflies flaring in her stomach, the smile spreading across her face again conveying more than enough.

“Well that’s what friends do, right?”

“Yeah. Friends. Exactly.”

The way his smile flickered at that must’ve been a technical glitch in the call, surely.

They continued to talk for nearly another hour, losing themselves in easy conversation as they always did, until Isabella noticed Anthony started yawning, even as subtle as he was attempting to be in hiding it behind his hand.

“Hey, Beau, I’ll let you get some sleep yeah?” she murmured.

“What? No, I’m fine, really.”

Isabella laughed softly, shaking her head with a fond smile. “You played an intense game today and you have an early flight tomorrow. Get your beauty rest.”

He smiled through the screen, eyes half-lidded with tiredness.

“Okay, if you insist. I’ll see you after your conference finishes, yeah?”

“Absolutely. I can’t wait,” she grinned.

“Me too. Goodnight, Bells.”

“Goodnight Beau.”

When the call ended, Isabella took a moment to indulge in the sweetness of his smile before shaking herself out of her silly thoughts. Was it so wrong to enjoy the way he looked at her sometimes? Surely not. Besides, he wouldn’t smile at her if he didn’t mean it – he’d said as such, how much he appreciated her. She could always work with that. With a b out of inspiration, Isabella grabbed her personal laptop and opened up spotify, ready to make Anthony a playlist for his flight home in the morning. He deserved to have his good mood continue, to arrive back with nothing but positivity in his veins. This was something she’d done dozens of times before, and it didn’t take her long to put together a list of songs nearly two hours long that would hopefully put a smile on his face. She put a few final touches to the playlist with Shake it off by Taylor Swift, Shut Up and Dance by WALK THE MOON, and Come on Eileen by Dexy’s Midnight Runners, finding herself smiling at the good mood she had curated. Done. Perfect.

~

From: Isabella Sleep well Beau. Looking forward to seeing you again tomorrow! I made you a playlist for the flight – positive vibes only.

~

From: Anthony You’re the best. See you tomorrow. 💛

*

Day Two of the conference – Wednesday 12th – found her dressed in a pretty lilac shift dress with a grey blazer of the top, another immaculate set of armour allowing her to get stuck into the networking that was happening in between all of the speeches and presentations. Isabella mostly let the Sales guys do their thing, but she was able to contribute a bit more with people who approached their company booth, supporting the discussions by using examples of the campaigns she’d personally ran. At least, she felt confident enough with the approving nods and the handshakes exchanged with potential clients. Anthony’s flight had landed mid-morning, right on schedule, and he'd very sweetly messaged her the moment he arrived home. So instead of attending drinks again when the conference finished, she headed straight back to Anthony’s apartment. She didn’t feel bad skipping out of the social time, mainly because it mattered more for the Sales guys to be there, but also because she desperately wanted to spend her limited time with Anthony while she still could.

“Bells!”

Anthony’s happy shout combined with the way he rushed over to her and lifted her up in his arms, spinning her around seconds after she shut the front door behind her let her know she’d made the right decision.

“Anyone would think you were happy to see me, Beau,” she giggled, clutching at him tightly.

Anthony just grinned, shrugging apologetically as he lowered her back down to the floor, although his cheeks had a light flush to them.

“Of course I’m happy to see you. It felt weird knowing you were finally in Vancouver but I wasn’t actually there myself,” he said simply.

Yeah she could understand that.

“I missed you too,” she murmured, shrugging off her blazer and hanging it up on the coatrack.

Isabella raised an eyebrow as Anthony’s ran over her formal lilac dress, taking her in like he’d never seen her before.

“I suppose it’s not the clothes you’re used to, hm?” she mused.

Strangely, her words made him jump slightly, as if she broke him out of his thoughts.

“What?”

“The dress?” she teased, “I know I don’t usually wear them this formal, but come on it’s not that bad.”

“No, uh, not bad at all. Definitely not used to you wearing them,” he said quickly, nodding as he blushed a little heavier, “You look great though.”

“Thanks Beau,” she grinned.

What a sweetheart. Even if he was still blushing.

“Thanks for the playlist by the way. It really helped me get through the flight this morning,” Anthony said, heading towards the kitchen.

Isabella followed him with a smile, that smile widening as he wordlessly handed her a cold bottle of water from the fridge, nudging him with her shoulder in thanks.

“It was the least I could do. Besides, the good vibes in the songs gave me good vibes too,” she shrugged.

“Great vibes – especially that last song,” he grinned.

“Come on Eileen is a classic for a reason,” she said seriously, making him laugh just like she knew it would.

They talked about day two of her conference as they chose what take-out to order for dinner – they settled on Vietnamese, including summer rolls, beef brisket phở, and tiger prawn curry noodles, settling on the sofa while they waited for it to arrive. It was only then that the conversation took a heavier turn, as Anthony suddenly looked exhausted down to his bones, and not just physically.

“What’s going through your head? What’s wrong?” Isabella asked softly, resting her hand on his forearm briefly to capture his attention.

“I feel like I failed this year,” Anthony said quietly.

What?

“I’m sorry, what?” Isabella asked, confused.

“The team didn’t make the playoffs. The season is over and I just…I failed, right? The Canucks haven’t made the playoffs for the 8th year in a row and the Islanders did make it, so clearly they were right to trade me, and I just…I don’t know what to do.”

His rant flew from his mouth faster than she had ever heard him speak before, and the sadness entrenching every word made her heart ache in the worst way. He really felt like this? Like he was a failure? How long had he been hiding his self-deprecating emotions like this?

“You did not fail. You are not a failure. You’re just one guy, Beau,” she said firmly. “You didn’t ask for this trade, not in the slightest, and you’ve made a good solid start for yourself here. The Canucks needed you and you gave them a boost of course, but it is so not on you. Do you think Petey and Brock and Quinn and literally everyone else feel like you let them down?”

“No,” he admitted softly.

“Then don’t let yourself feel like that. Yeah, it sucks. Not making the playoffs is everything you didn’t want to happen. But you guys are way too talented for it not to build up for next season. You are far too talented, Anthony Beauvillier, and it will work out,” she finished.

“Ouch, full name,” he said with a weak smile.

She just batted his shoulder lightly with a hand, pursing her lips. “I mean it, okay? You worked hard and this year it just didn’t work out. I have full faith that things will click for you next year.”

Anthony hesitated for a second, before letting out a shaky sigh.

“I might just have to let your faith be the only faith for a little while,” he said softly.

Her frown softened to a gentle smile, and she squeezed the shoulder that she batted only moments before.

“If that’s what you need, then that’s fine. My faith in you isn’t going anywhere. You have one final game to play, right? So you go out there and you show them what you’ve got. Show yourself. I’ll be watching with imaginary pompoms,” she mused.

“Can I get you real pompoms? Maybe a cheerleader skirt too?” he grinned.

That was the Anthony she knew.

“You are pushing your luck. Keep that in your dreams,” she snickered.

Interestingly, he blushed furiously at her words, making her laugh. What a reaction.

It didn’t take much longer for their Vietnamese take-out to arrive and they settled as easily as ever next to each other on the sofa, sharing all the dishes in a way that felt so effortless, a reminder of the life they led back in New York. Anthony switched on an old favourite action movie while they were eating, just something to play in the background while they ate and talked and enjoyed each other’s company, and Isabella didn’t hesitate to seamlessly transition that into cuddling on the sofa when the take-out boxes were empty.

She did ignore the butterflies in her stomach flaring up as his thumb brushed her bare shoulder though. No, tonight was about Anthony, giving him comfort, not about her ridiculous notions.

*

The last day of her conference, Day Three – Thursday 13th – started with Anthony joining her for coffee and breakfast. She knew he had no real reason to get up early with her, but she appreciated the sweet gesture nonetheless. As she caught an uber over to the hotel conference hall, her mind was reeling from the sleepy smiles he sent her way, even more so with the soft parting kiss he pressed to her cheek as she said goodbye to him.

Why now? Why were all the feelings she’d fought so hard to bury surfacing out now?

But Isabella didn’t have time to get lost in her thoughts. She wouldn’t let herself – couldn’t let herself. No, all she allowed herself to do was to brush her shaky hands down her navy blue sheath dress and matching navy blazer as she walked into the hotel before she threw up her confident walls, greeting her colleagues with a practiced smile.

She already knew that the last day of the conference would be mostly final presentations and speeches, so she let them consume her, taking notes as diligently as she was able to be able to report back to her bosses. It was a blessing in disguise really, letting her work monopolise her mind, and she found herself swept up in the last rounds of networking with a genuine smile on her face. In all honesty, the conference had been a success – her Sales colleagues had garnered all of the business and attention they were meant to, and her contributions had been smooth and fruitful. That didn’t mean she stayed around for the final night of drinks though.

No, when the conference talks finished at 3pm, she caught an uber straight back to Anthony’s apartment, ready to go to the final Canucks game tonight. The game started at 7pm so she had more than enough time to shower, eat a little something while she dried her natural curls, and change into comfy jeans and Anthony’s jersey. He was already at the arena by the time she’d arrived back at his after packing up the company stand, so she caught an uber down to the game again.

Same as last time, he had left her a ticket at will call. She had asked for a ticket in the stands rather than in the box. It was just the atmosphere she wanted to surrounded by, the sight of him upclose being a welcome bonus. By the time she was heading down to her seat with an overpriced beer in her hand, it was time for warmups, and as she watched the Canucks skate out to excited cheers, she found her seat right by the glass.

Of course, of course he got her glass-side seats. Isabella rolled her eyes softly but found herself smiling anyway. Anthony always was so thoughtful, and this evening was no different. She caught his eyes as he skated past her and she waved enthusiastically at him, ignoring the looks from people around her as he happily waved back. Let them be jealous. They didn’t share the friendship the two of them had so she didn’t care what people thought of the interaction. She did snicker quietly as she noticed the obvious teasing his teammates gave him when he skated back over to them though. Bless his heart and his rosy cheeks too.

The game was a nail biter, even more so than the other three games she’d watched this week had been. For each Canucks goal she jumped up out of her seat cheering, high fiving everyone around her. For every Coyotes goal, she winced and listened to the boos around her. By the time the third period ended 4-4 ahead of going into OT, she felt like she was in an emotional wringer. This was the last Canucks game of the season; she knew how much it meant to Anthony let alone the rest of the team, so when the buzzer sounded it was all she could do to keep breathing, hoping for a miracle.

And praise Garland for his game winning goal only 1.19 into the OT, hats flying onto the ice to mark his hattrick as the arena erupted in cheers and shouts for the 5-4 win. Isabella’s hands were stinging from clapping by the time the stands started to empty, her cheeks aching from smiling, but she didn’t hesitate to go down to the tunnel like she had that first night, waiting for Anthony to be finished.

As soon as he walked out to meet her, she squealed, making him laugh as he swooped her up in a hug.

“Ahhh Beau! I’m so happy for you! Such an amazing assist!” she said, when he’d put her back down.

Anthony’s assist on Garland’s power play goal was the Canucks second goal of the game, the first of Garland’s three, and she was so proud of him for ending his season so well.

“Felt good to contribute in our last game, I will admit,” Anthony said a little sheepishly.

“See, I told you! Positive thinking!” Isabella grinned.

He just laughed, making her smile soften. He really was so cute, especially when his happiness was shining through like this.

“Most of the team are heading out for drinks again tonight, especially with the win in this last game of the season. Do you want to go?” Anthony asked her, smiling softly.

Like she’d want to be anywhere else.

“Absolutely,” she nodded, “I even brought a leather jacket with me to wear over this tank top instead of the jersey.”

“Oh perfect, I’ll put your jersey in my car before we catch ubers to the bar then, so you don’t have to carry it around,” he said, smiling.

So thoughtful.

The booths reserved in the bar were full of players, various family members, wives and girlfriends, so Isabella didn’t feel like the odd one out for the celebration of the end of their season. That didn’t mean she moved far away from Anthony though. All night they were side-by-side, and Anthony seemed oblivious to the looks he was getting from his teammates where he had his arm round her waist, where he was murmuring in her ear. With the way the drinks were flowing, Isabella didn’t care enough to say anything, to correct their assumptions, letting herself slip to a level that she usually wouldn’t with alcohol. She wasn’t drunkdrunkdrunk, not by any means, but she was far merrier than she usually allowed herself to get, clinging to Anthony in a way that she always had refused herself.

The music blared, shots were pounded back, laughter filled their group, and all throughout Anthony held her tight, his hands possessive in a way they had never been before. He held her closer than he ever had as they swayed on the dancefloor, bodies pressed close, the energy between them crackling. She let herself pretend that it was the heat of the bar not his intense eyes that had her flushed and giddy. The vodka mixers allowed her to pretend anyway, and by the time that Anthony mentioned making a move back home, much later than she thought they would, her mind was a happy haze of BeauBeauBeau. Nothing else mattered, not the knowing winks or the giggles, not the way her feet were aching, not the way she leant heavily on him as they made their way out of the bar to the waiting uber.

They were still leaning against each other as they stumbled out of the taxi at his apartment building, Isabella giggling as she waved goodbye to their driver. Anthony helped hold her up in the elevator, using the wall to prop himself up, Isabella just snuggling into his broad chest with a happy drunken sigh. This was perfect. Did he always smell this good? Was he always this warm?

They slowly made their way to his front door, Anthony holding her close in a way that wasn’t helping them walk in a straight line. Isabella just stayed clutching at him, letting him guide her, humming quietly to herself as she smiled up at him, especially as he smiled widely down at her, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed. He struggled to open the front door, making her giggle like she had done getting out of the taxi, and he pressed his finger to her lips in an exaggerated shush, only making her laugh harder. This was bliss, this was heated happiness, this was…her stumbling into the doorframe and falling forward. She slammed into his chest, Anthony somehow holding her upright as he closed the door behind her, his body swaying as he tried to hold them both up.

Isabella clutched as his arms – so strong, so firm – looking up at him with wide eyes, only then noticing how close they were standing. How close he was holding her. Had they ever been this close before? Had his eyes always been that blue?

She jerked out of her thoughts as he pressed his lips to hers.

Isabella moaned softly before she could stop herself, Anthony quickly pulling away, lips red. Wow. Wow. So that was what it was like to kiss him? As she looked back up into his beautiful eyes, some of the fog in her head cleared, only to be replaced by how good that felt. She had to do it again. She had to know what it felt like to kiss him again.

It seemed like Anthony felt the same way, because one of his hands flew up to cup her head as he pushed her back against the door, a loud gasp tearing from her throat just before he took her lips in a kiss once more. There it was. This, right here. She melted into his embrace, clutching as his shirt with her hands as she hungrily kissed him back, Anthony moaning into her mouth before he slid his tongue past her lips. Her head spun as she lost herself in his kisses, her body lighting up with an electricity she hadn’t felt in a long time as their bodies surged together, moaning again as his free hand slid over her ass and squeezed. Never had she felt like this with a first kiss. Never had she wanted this much.

Then Anthony broke the kiss, barely pulling away, just enough so she could blearily see that he was panting as hard as she was.

“Do you want to…?”

“Yes.”

*

It was her pounding headache that woke her up, paired with the start of rolling nausea. All Isabella could do for longer than she could tell was breathe in and out slowly, measured breaths careful enough to not set off a run to the bathroom that she didn’t really want to do. She knew she drank more than she usually would last night; not enough to be obliterated, no, but these were the consequences that always reminded her why she had her alcohol limits. Her head feeling like it was going to crack in two, her stomach clenching over and over, her bare body clammy and chilled in the early morning air.

Wait, what?

Bare body. She was naked? What?

The moment that her mind processed the new information, the end of the evening caught up with her, reminding her exactly what had happened. Clutching hands, clashing lips, heated breath, stinging bites, pleasure like she’d never felt before. Anthony filling her, surrounding her, moaning out her name as she cried out his. Fuck.

Oh fuck what had she done? Tears stung at her eyes, clouding her gaze as she slowly glanced over her shoulder, carefully so as not to make her nausea worse…and there he was, just as naked as she was. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She clasped a hand over her mouth to muffle any sounds that might escape her, glad she’d done so as the arm she hadn’t noticed draped over her waist tightened slightly with her minor movement.

She’d ruined everything. Everything. How could she have been so stupid to give in to her desires for him? How could anything ever be the same again between them?

Tears finally trickled down her cheeks as Anthony huffed a breath that ruffled her curls, his legs shifting enough to slot one of them between hers. As she cried, biting her bottom lip to muffle her quiet sobs, her headache came back with full force, throbbing like nothing she’d ever felt before. It was all Isabella could do to close her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep, hoping that when she woke up again that all of this would disappear. A stupid aimless hope, she knew that, but it was all she could cling to.

She drifted in and out of sleep as the hours went on, head pounding and swimming enough that she couldn’t wake herself up fully let alone move, but by the time that the midday sun filtered through the curtains she knew she couldn’t avoid getting out of bed anymore.

Just as she was gathering the courage to remove his arm from her waist, that arm tightened again, pulling her roughly back against his bare body, making her gasp loud enough for Anthony to flinch -and quickly shoot back across the bed as he woke up in alarm.

“Shit. Shit, Bells…”

Isabella let out a shaky breath before sitting upright, clutching the bedsheets to her chest in a poor attempt at modesty.

“Hi Beau,” she said with a watery smile.

She knew her smile looked as fake as it felt by the way that Anthony’s face fell. He ran a hand through his hair, looking at a loss for words, so she stayed silent too. There was nothing she could say to make this situation better, she knew that. And it wasn’t like she even knew what to say either. Everything she had worked so hard to prevent, the loss of their friendship being the main part, was for nothing. This was the beginning of the end – and by the way he wouldn’t look at her, she felt it in her bones as a certainty.

“I…”

She cut herself off, swallowing heavily to stop the lump rising in her throat as Anthony closed his eyes briefly. Fuck. Fuck.

“I’m going to shower. And pack all my stuff,” she eventually managed to say.

That, at least, made Anthony finally look over at her.

“What?”

She cleared her throat, willing herself not to cry at the intensity in his beautiful blue eyes.

“I fly home tomorrow, and I haven’t packed yet. There’s only this afternoon left to do it, and seeing as I have to be at the airport by 6.30am, I really don’t want to be packing last minute tomorrow morning,” she said as calmly as she could.

“Bells, wait, please,” he murmured.

She forced a polite smile on her face, hating that he winced when he saw it, hating that it was necessary to make her feel even a little bit of normality.

“And I think I’ll book a taxi to take me to the airport too, as it’s early,” she finished.

Rather than Anthony taking her, as they’d agreed previously. Before this clusterfuck ending of their friendship.

“No,” he said sharply.

“What?” she said, bland masking failing a little.

“I’ll still drive you to the airport,” he said.

Why? Why would he want to do that?

“You don’t have to,” she said, voice cracking.

“I want to,” Anthony said, shaking his head, “Please, Bells.”

The desperation in his voice made her heart ache as much as it confused her. Why was he so insistent? Why did he want to do this?

“Sure.”

The relief in Anthony’s eyes only confused her more.

*

Friday was possibly the most awkward day she’d ever spent in Anthony’s company. Isabella had managed to make it through her shower with shaky legs, eventually sliding down the wall to huddle on the shower floor, the sound of the shower muffling her crying enough for Anthony to leave her in peace as he caught an uber back to the arena to collect his car. Even when he arrived back, he still left her alone to pack all her things scattered around the guest room, which she somehow managed to stretch out into taking two hours. The rest of the day had been spent avoiding him as much as possible, sitting at opposite ends of the sofa while they ate pizza that night, neither one of them wanting to cook for obvious reasons, and she had claimed an early night for her early start the next day.

But it had taken so long for her to fall asleep, her mind not shutting off, overthinking every little interaction the two of them had that day, so by the time her alarm went off at 5am she was even more exhausted than the day before. Still, she knew she couldn’t delay the inevitable, and got up to leave Anthony for what she feared would be the last time.

Because that was where this was heading, wasn’t it? Everything between them – their friendship, their closeness, all that they shared – had been ruined the moment she stepped into his bedroom in an alcohol-fuelled lust haze. Neither of them had made the step forward yesterday to do anything about their dwindling friendship, and now…now it was too late.

Her flight from Vancouver was due to leave at 8.35am, with her due to land in LaGuardia at 8pm, having one stop for connecting flight in Denver for 1.45hrs. Her company had booked flights for the cheapest options available; the timings and airports weren’t her choice at all, but in this moment, the early flight was some kind of blessing.

Unsurprisingly, their drive to airport was quiet. Isabella didn’t even have a coffee mug to distract herself with, not wanting the caffeine in this jittery body before she ate something a little later, so the time in the car with him felt like it dragged. That aching feeling only dragged out when Anthony paid $5.00 for the parkade and walked her to the main departures doors.

“So I guess this is goodbye,” Anthony murmured, handing her the suitcase he wheeled over from the car for her.

Why did that hurt so much more than she thought it would?

“I guess so,” she said softly, clutching at her handbag like it was a lifeline.

Without warning, Anthony stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. Isabella couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped her throat, and she found herself hugging him back just as tightly, burying her face in the crook of his neck, trying not to tremble at the close contact. She could feel his face pressing into her curls, his breathing shaky like he was trying not to cry, and she desperately willed herself not to cry either when tears stung her eyes. This wasn’t fair. How had everything boiled down to this, after all their years of friendship? How was everything over?

She couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t cling onto him when she knew that any moment she would have to let him go for real. So, Isabella found the strength to unclench her hands from his shirt, taking the step backwards that she didn’t want to take. Hundreds of words flew around her head, everything she wanted to say to him that she didn’t know how to voice. And it looked like he wanted to say something too, lips parting and hand raising towards her…until his hand dropped back to his side and he took a proper step backwards, clearing his throat.

A little bit of her died inside at the misery in his eyes.

Was this really goodbye forever?

“Have a safe flight. Let me know when you land?” Anthony said softly.

“It won’t be for nearly 9 hours,” she said, hesitating.

“I don’t care,” he said immediately, “Please?”

She just sighed, nodding. “Yeah, of course Beau.”

He smiled in response, but it just looked sad to her. As sad as the emptiness in his eyes. But before she could say anything to change his expression even the slightest bit, a big shuttle bus pulled up and a group of loud people stepped out, ruining the last chance. Their last chance?

It was all Isabella could to do smile sadly at him as she walked into the airport.

Her flight was restless – she was too awake to sleep but too caught up in her thoughts to read a book or watch a movie. If she was being honest with herself, she couldn’t even remember what she ate. If she ate. All she was able to do, as if punishing herself further, was to put her headphones over her ears to drown the world out and listen to the playlist he had made her for her original flight out, silently crying the whole time.

Her seatmate hadn’t noticed the way she was falling apart next to her.

Eventually she had to face reality as her plane landed in LaGuardia. It would do no good for her heart if she didn’t text Anthony as he’d asked her to, so she pulled out her phone as she waited for the plane to start disembarking.

~

From: Isabella Hey, just landed.

~

It was short and to the point, but it was all she could manage while she felt like a dried-out husk. Somehow, tears stung at her eyes when he immediately messaged back, like he was waiting for her in a way that made no sense.

~

From: Anthony Thank you for letting me know. I hope your flight was okay.

~

Was that concern? Was that politeness? She couldn’t figure it out in her exhausted state so she just exited out of their conversation and put her phone away. That was a problem for another day. All she could manage right now was standing up out of her seat and shuffling off the plane. Everything else could wait for tomorrow. It would have to.

*

Seven days. Seven days passed without a word from Anthony. This was the longest they’d ever gone without speaking, the time stretching out like an impossible chasm. She knew she could’ve responded to his message after her flight, but she hadn’t known what to say, and a couple of days later it felt too late to respond to that particular thread of conversation. But Anthony hadn’t contacted her again either. Maybe it really had been politeness, his comment on her journey, but if it wasn’t then she didn’t really know what to think.

All she knew was that the longer she didn’t text him and the longer that he didn’t text her, she felt like her fragile heart was crumbling, and she didn’t know how to salvage any of it – if anything could be salvaged at all.

Her body ached, the loss of contact with him feeling like a missing limb. She hadn’t felt heartbreak like this before, not with any ex-boyfriends, and this time it was all her fault anyway. Maybe she deserved to feel this empty, this aching. It was all she could do to trudge forward on auto-pilot, trying to get back into her routine as a desperate attempt to cling onto some form of normality. By the time Saturday 22nd rolled around though, she was done. Without work to distract her like it had all week, Isabella knew she needed to get out of her apartment or she would go insane from her overbearing thoughts. So she decided to treat herself to lunch out at a secluded café she hadn’t been to in a while, allowing the walk to clear her foggy thoughts, and by the time her sandwich was in front of her she felt a little more human.

“Bells?”

Isabella looked up sharply, breath hitching at the man standing in front of her.

Mat.

She hadn’t forgotten that this was the café that she, Anthony, and Mat used to all go to together. That did make sense why she hadn’t been there since he left New York though.

“Hey, Barzy, fancy bumping into you here,” she said warmly.

Mat just smiled as she stood up from her seat, wasting no time in giving her a big hug, making her laugh as she hugged him back. Clearly he had the same thoughts as her, getting out for a little while, especially considering he’d just had a run of playoff games against Carolina on Monday 17th, Wednesday 19th, and Friday 21st.

“I know we’ve texted back and forth a lot but I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since Beau got traded,” she said, smiling softly as he sat down opposite her.

But the moment that his smile turned sympathetic, she knew.

“He told you?” she murmured, smile falling.

He bit his bottom lip, hesitating, but that only made her feel worse.

“Barzy please, did he tell you what happened in Vancouver?” she whispered harshly.

Mat huffed out a sign before nodding “He did.”

She immediately felt sick, physically and mentally, her whole body seizing - but Mat quickly shook his head at whatever her face was doing.

“Bells, no, only because he’s freaking out that he’s ruined everything,” Mat insisted.

“Ruined everything?” she asked quietly, her voice catching in her throat as she tried to breathe.

“Look, I don’t know the details. And I sure as hell don’t really want to know them, that’s between you two,” Mat said firmly.

She couldn’t help but laugh softly at the dramatic grimace on his face, and Mat’s expression softened.

“He’s in a real mess, Bells. I’ve never seen him like this before,” Mat said, smiling sadly, “Did he ruin everything?”

He was in a mess? Just as much as she was?

“No, no he hasn’t,” she said with a sad smile, “I thought I did.”

“Man, you two are as bad as each other. I thought your trip to Vancouver would’ve sorted that out finally,” Mat sighed.

What? Sorted what out?

“What?” she managed to choke out.

Mat just shook his head fondly. “Everyone saw the way you two look at each other. We all thought you’d get together, although I’m pretty sure some of the rookies thought you were already dating.”

Well that was something she thought she’d never hear. What the hell?

“I just…he’s one of my best friends, you know? You’re my friend too - and you’re good for him. I want things to be back to normal between you two,” Mat said, smiling sadly.

If that didn’t break her heart even further, she didn’t know what would.

“I don’t know if they can ever go back to normal,” she admitted, hating the words as honest as they were, eyes stinging slightly, “But I don’t want to lose him. I just don’t know what to do.”

He pursed his lips, nodding as he fell silent for a moment. It was all she could do to sip at her coffee, especially as it looked like her friend was thinking hard.

“Do you like him?” Mat asked suddenly.

“W-What?”

“Do you like him? As more than a friend?”

She choked out a laugh, glancing up at the ceiling, trying to fight the tears that sprang to her eyes again. What kind of question was that? Of course she did. She’d never denied it, not that anyone had ever asked her. Anthony was her person, one of the only people in her life that she truly trusted. Of course she liked him. Hell, she was already falling in love with him at this point, she could admit that much to herself. And if Mat’s words held any truth…maybe he was falling for her too?

“Yeah. Yeah, I do like him. More than I probably should for someone who’s never heard from his lips how he feels about me,” she eventually admitted.

Mat’s face split into a smile. “Leave this with me.”

What?

“Barzy…” she warned.

“No, I’m serious, leave it with me. Do you trust me?” Mat said firmly.

“Yeah, you know I do,” Isabella said without hesitation.

Because she did. There wasn’t a malicious bone in Mat Barzal’s body, especially when it came to his friends, and Isabella was fortunate to count herself as one of them. But what did he mean?

“Then let me talk to him, okay? This will all work out, Bells,” Mat said seriously, “You’ll see.”

Hope was dangerous for her fragile heart. But here Mat was, dangling it down on a silver string.

“I really hope you’re right, Barzy,” she sighed.

He just grinned. A thousand girls would kill to have that beaming smile sent their way, but all she could think about was his blue-eyed friend on the other side of Canada.

“I’d better go – got the 4th game in our playoffs series tomorrow. But don’t be a stranger,” Mat said, standing up from his eat.

“I won’t. I’m rooting for you guys against the Canes,” she said, smiling despite the whirling of her emotions.

“Damn right you are,” he grinned.

There was the Mat she knew.

*

A few days more days passed without a word from Mat, or from…anyone else. She knew that Mat was busy, obviously having watched his 4th playoff game on Sunday. She’d even texted him after his 5-2 loss against the Canes, getting nothing but a crying face back which was more than she could’ve hoped for from him in this intense time. But nothing else, and she tried not to let that hope flicker away. She wouldn’t let herself get invested, not until she knew anything for sure. She couldn’t, otherwise she didn’t know if she would survive.

It took until Tuesday 25th for Isabella to wake up with a text from Anthony.

Her hands shook as she flicked open their neglected message thread, eyes stinging as she scanned his words.

~

From: Anthony I’m sorry that I haven’t texted you. I’m guessing you haven’t texted me either for the same reasons. I hate that everything’s gotten so awkward and distant between us but talking with Barzy yesterday gave me hope. Will you please listen to this playlist? we’re lost and found.

~

Isabella had already planned on working from home today but this would’ve pushed her to anyway. He’d actually messaged her. There was still hope? Anthony hadn’t given up on them after all. He’d made her a new playlist? And from the sounds of it, if he’d talked to Barzy like Barzy said he would, this was going to be something that was either going to break her heart for good or give her more hope than she knew what to do with.

Rather than opening the link on her phone, she opened up her personal laptop, clicking on the playlist we’re lost and found when Spotify was open, and quickly clicked play.

“Sunlight comes creepin' in, Illuminates our skin, We watched the day go by, Stories of all we did, It made me think of you, It made me think of you.”

As the lyrics to Birdy’s Wings filled the room, Isabella could do nothing to stop the tears from springing to her eyes. This song was one of her current favourites, he knew this. And if he’d remembered that…what else had he included in the playlist? She quickly scrolled through the rest of the list, eyes scanning every song, every choice he made, aching pangs starting in her chest at his selections.

Wings – Birdy Never Let Me Go – Florence + The Machine Hold You – Nina Nesbitt, Kodaline Wherever You Will Go – Charlene Soraia Teach Me How to Be Loved – Rebecca Ferguson Set Me on Fire – Bella Ferraro Kiss Me – Jason Walker Yours – Ella Henderson Still into You – Paramore Adore You – Harry Styles Tongue Tied – Take Me To Your Best Friends House Slow Hands – Niall Horan I Choose You – Sara Bareilles Lover – Taylor Swift Lover Of Mine – 5 Seconds of Summer this is how you fall in love – Jason Zucker, Chelsea Cutler Falling Like The Stars – James Arthur A Thousand Years – Christina Perri Take Me To Church – Hozier Next To Me – Emeli Sandé I Won’t Give Up – Jason Mraz When You Love Someone – James TW

She felt like she wasn’t breathing, couldn’t breathe, the long curated-collection sending her thoughts scrambling. Did he really feel…? Was he really saying…? Why was he only saying this now, when everything had become so fraught between them?

“If I could, then I would, I’d go wherever you will go.”

The Charlene Soraia cover, another favourite. Fuck, he really had put so much effort into this, hadn’t he? The thoughts, the emotions, everything that he was feeling he had put into this playlist. Playlists were their thing, and the fact that he’d made something like this for her, to show her how he felt…it was everything. She let the music wash over her, tears pouring down her cheeks as she let her heart truly feel what it wanted to feel for the first time, soaking in all of the emotion that he’d poured into this playlist. This was him, and this was her, and it was them. What more could she say?

“But with you I’ve learned how to let it out, Now my heart is ready to burst, Cause I feel like I’m ready for love, And I want to be your everything and more.”

Ella Henderson’s voice continued to spill out from her laptop speakers, but Isabella couldn’t take anymore. She had to speak to him. She had to know…she had to…fuck, she needed to hear his voice. And it only took three rings for him to answer.

“Hey, Bells.”

She sniffled as a couple of tears trickled down her cheeks, closing her eyes at the sound of his voice. “Hey, Beau.”

They fell silent for a moment, just listening to each other breathe, before Anthony eventually cleared his throat.

“You’re listening to the playlist then? I can hear Ella singing in the background.”

He knew it that well, that he could recognise a faint song? How many times had he listened to these songs before he sent them over?

“Yeah. Yeah I am. I have to know…Beau, why did you create this? Why these songs?” she murmured, eyes finally opening, staring at the list in front of her.

He huffed out a laugh, sighing softly.

“It’s always going to be you, Bells. There’s no-one else for me.”

The sound that tore out of her throat barely felt human, and her free hand quickly flew up to cover her mouth, a distraught sound coming through the phone as Anthony heard her.

“Hey, talk to me, please?”

She took a shaky breath, willing herself to stay calm, to keep herself together, and she nodded to herself, steeling her nerves.

“There’s no-one else for you?” she murmured.

“There hasn’t been for a long time.”

The smile that tugged at her lips felt traitorous somehow, her mind not believing his words. He’s liked her for a long time? How was this real? As if he could sense her warring thoughts, Anthony sighed.

“I don’t know what to say to make you believe me. Please, just listen to the songs. They show everything that I can’t over the phone. Music has always spoken for us before, right? So I’m trying to let it speak for me now.”

He was right. Music had always been the thing that connected them, that said everything they didn’t need to say. Except this time, she needed him to say something – and here he was, translating himself in a way that spoke to them both.

“You really feel this way about me?” she said softly, her voice filled with wonder.

“I really do. And I’m hoping, from everything Barzy said and the fact that you haven’t hung up on my yet, that you feel this way for me too?”

Right, because she hadn’t actually said anything that was on her mind. It was all him. Just like always.

“Yeah, Beau, I do. I like you so much,” she said, choking out a laugh, “I just…didn’t think you would ever feel the same for me. The last week has been torture.”

“I’m so sorry. I am so unbelievably sorry for ever making you feel like you aren’t the most important person in my life.”

She choked out a sob this time, her body thrumming, her heart aching, Anthony just making soft reassuring noises through the speaker until she was able to compose herself once more.

“I’ve got locker clear out tomorrow, and then…then I’m thinking about coming to New York for a few weeks. I think we should talk, really talk, face to face. We both deserve that much.”

“Yeah, you’re right. And I’d like that,” she said, a little shyly.

With further tentative plans for Isabella to join him in Quebec after he spent some time with her in New York, she ended the call, her heart full and her cheeks aching with smiling, tacky with happy tears.

Maybe she didn’t know what tomorrow would hold. Or next month. Or even when Anthony was back in Vancouver all over again. But she knew that what she felt for him was worth trying for. And wasn’t that all that mattered anyway? Anthony Beauvillier was falling in love with her just like she was falling in love with him, and she couldn’t wait to see where this journey would take her, especially with him by her side.

[ihni]

My 2023 in fics

Tagged by @billyharringson, thank you, this was a lot of fun!

January: Hot and Cold (or How To Serve Revenge) - a fic I wrote in January (but posted in February, schhhh). Got challenged by @callieb to write hurt/no comfort, and I have it on good authority that I succeeded ... (it has spawned no less than two fix-its and one more continuation by other people so far, which I am awfully pleased about actually)

February: Again and again and again and again, a time loop fic that I love, and would like to read like 80K about. ... yes, read. I don't have time to write more on it now. But I had so much fun writing this, and it is one of my favorite kinds of fics; a short one with potential.

March: March was busy. There was Billy's Birthday Bonanza, and also I wrote for the Billy Hargrove Bingo. I posted a lot of fics then, most of them short. So I'm gonna link two, because I can (and no one told me any rules for this tagging game); Boys, Beards and Best Friends, because it was so much fun writing Billy and Heather being BFFs and also the boys being set up, and then Over the edge, which is one of my favorites, because it was so goddamn fun to write! (Murder mystery prank going wrong, muahahaaa! Don't worry though, no one dies for real.)

April: A piece of meaning on your skin, a little fic I wrote for the Harringrove Flip Reverse It event, about the boys choosing tattoos for each other as a part of a bet. I still think it's cute.

May: I like Flo, okay, and like to incorporate her into fics. In Patience, I wrote about her first impressions of Billy, for the Billy Hargrove Bingo.

June-July: Posted in June, finished posting in July (but written on and off over the course of several years previous ...), Taking Notes is my longest fanfic yet at about 93K. And, listen, I love it. It's a body swap fic, where the boys swap bodies. And then again. And again. Etc. I am so proud of this one, actually.

August: Posted Pal, which is 17K of Billy befriending a stray demodog. I 100% believe Billy would like animals better than most humans, and this fic is basically him being a bit dumb but also a good friend to Pal, the demodog. And then them going into protective mode for each other. I am soft for this one, still.

September: I'm picking a short one that I first posted on tumblr and then onto AO3; Seagulls. It's ... well, it's sad in a way, in that it takes place when Billy's dying at the mall, but it's also comforting in a way, because he gets to leave all that bullshit behind and is greeted by his mom again.

October: Picking Just another night at Motel 6 on Cornwallis, because Billy deserves to get to tell Karen no, and Karen deserves to be shamed for what she did (yes, in this fic she showed up). It was immensely satisfying to write.

November: I didn't get much posted in November (because NaNo), but I did get chapter 3 of Finding Billy posted (it's a finished fic now, though, don't worry). It's a whumpy fic I had to write after a couple of chats with friends, about Billy being held with the Lab people after the whole Starcourt thing, and then Steve and Max and Hop finding out and getting him out of there. Poor boy's been through a lot in this one - but things are getting better, promise!

December: Started posting Home is where the knitted mittens are, which is my latest fic. No ships, no romance. Just Billy finding out he's a werewolf and having to deal with that in Hawkins, Indiana, without much of a safety net. Listen, I'm weak for werewolf Billy, okay? And I made up some werewolf lore in this one which is a mix of all the things I like. (It was literally a reason for me to get to write something "nesting"-adjacent, without having to go into A/B/O-territory.) Definitely written mostly for myself, and I love it dearly. (Featuring werewolf!Scott Clarke too, because why not right??)

Huh, I never thought I'd had enough to fill a whole year's worth, but look at that! I'm proud of myself for this :)

Tagging @callieb (yes, individual chapters work!), @weird-an and @mikajupiterjonesingtimcurryfeet if you guys wanna do it as well :) (And YOU, reading this, if you wanna do it! Consider yourself tagged if you're reading this and think it looks fun - because it IS)

[iwtvfanevents]

A meal to remember —wrapping up the weekend

First of all, we want to say thank you to everyone for participating! 

Whether you went straight to the source and let your favorite fic writers know how much you love their work with a comment, a message or a reblog; shared your recommendations; or even created something paying homage to one or more of your favorite fanworks, thank you! 

We were delighted to see quite a few people seizing this opportunity to show their appreciation for their fellow fans, and wanted to take the chance to highlight some of the many fantastic contributions that came from the past weekend: 

There were several wonderful #rec lists, and some that we think deserve special attention are these lists of works in progress and abandoned/unfinished fics (as WIPs so often go ignored) as well as this list of fics with less than 50 kudos, and this list of fics with 500 or fewer hits!

There were curated lists with many themes. We are only mentioning some of them here, but we saw lists of fics that were posted while the first season was airing and canon-adjacent fics, as well as lists specific to characters (like Louis, Claudia, Jonah, and Lestat), relationships (like Louis/Armand, or Louis/Daniel), and content —such as this list of crossover fanfics, a list of fics dealing with pregnancy, one of fics with polyamory, and a (collaborative!) list of fics featuring lesbians. 

Speaking of collaborative, we had an ask game too, which prompted a lot of recommendations (and on that note, we didn’t keep a reblog of all the answers that we were tagged in, to prevent too many repeats, but we were delighted to see so many people playing). And, speaking of games, this Louis/Armand rec list came with its own reading bingo! 

Plus, the love wasn’t limited to #fanfiction: we also saw a curated list of meta, and one for fanart too. 

And recommendations weren’t all! People made #fanart, #edits and graphics for their favorite fics; curated music for them (under #fanmix); and even got #meta about their recommendations, sharing how they’d adapt some favorite fics to the screen, or how fashion connects with their fics of choice.

We had a great time this weekend, added many fantastic new fics to our marked-for-later, and even had the chance to read some of them already, and have found new favorites. We hope you had as much fun, and discovered as many lovely new fanworks as we did! 

And we also hope that you’ll join us for our upcoming event! During all of October, we’ll be celebrating Louis’s 146th birthday with a creative challenge. Click here to learn more about Saint Louis of the Vieux Carré »

[gravestrain]

we don't have to talk about it; b. boeser

Well I wasn't sure if this would be done in time, but it is and it is probably the most proud I have ever been of a piece of writing I've made. I did not get a perfect bingo but I chose trade angst, friends to lovers, playlists as a love language, "it's always going to be you," and summer romance. This is some sickly sweet soulmates fluff accompanied by some sickly sweet playlists. There is a bit of NSFW mentions towards the begin but no actual smut. For this reason, 18+ readers only please ☺️

Happy birthday sweet Demi @wyattjohnston! 💖 I am so lucky to be in this community with you and wanted to write you something in return for all you do for our community of hockeyblr writers.

I want to preface this by saying that this is probably a slightly unrealistic version of Brock, and that is okay. This is a work of fiction. Do I think Brock listens to boygenius? Definitely not. But for the sake of this story, he would. As always, I did some research for this fic and so the programs at both UND and UBC that Harper completes are real programs/degrees!

Also; this is the inspiration picture I had for Harper's tattoo (photo from Pinterest). If it isn't clear in the story, I imagine Harper to have a lot of tattoos. I imagine her having a lot of small tattoos all over her body. Additionally, I tried my best to give Harper no other physical descriptors other than her having tattoos, so you all have the freedom to imagine her in any way that you possibly could want to, which I think is a beautiful thing. She/her pronouns are used. 2.6k words plus 3 small playlists ☺️

~~~~~~~

"We don't have to talk about it," Harper whispered to Brock as she slipped out from under his arm, the warm covers forcefully removed from his body. Brock shuddered at the implications of that.

His best friend. His lifeline, his biggest supporter. Somehow, he had ended up in bed with her, swollen lips and hair astray. He wondered if it meant absolutely everything to her, the way it did to him. He wondered if she would lay up for days, trying to forget the way her lips felt on his, the smell of her hair, the curl of her fingers around his.

"He's just lost," Harper told her best friend Amelie that weekend over cocktails. She was convinced that Amelie's eyes were going to pop out of her head when Harper whispered to her that she had ended up in bed with her childhood best friend. "Harper, I don't know how you can say that. It's your best friend, for Christ's sake. This isn't just anybody. Everyone in Vancouver is dying to get where you just were." Amelie ranted to Harper, trying to relay the implications of what the two of them had done. "Things between you two may never be the same." She exasperated and Harper rolled her eyes.

"Please, he is just overwhelmed. He feels very out of his element with the trade rumors and just wanted some safety and normalcy. It's not like it was romantic. Trust me, there was no aftercare or lit candles or rose petals." Harper sighed dramatically and Amelie tried to pretend like she believed her. Meanwhile, Harper tried to forget what it felt like when his fingers ghosted through her hair afterwards, when he brought her water and wiped her down gently. She tried to forget the way her heart beat out her chest at the way he held her afterwards. That she had to force him to let her go. Amelie shook her head and sipped her cocktail, wondering if Harper was foolish enough to think that she believed her.

Brock was avoiding Harper. That much was obvious. It would be more obvious if Harper wasn't doing the same thing to Brock. It had been a week since they slept together with no contact, probably the longest since their only real fight in freshman year of college when Brock left for an out of town game without saying bye to Harper. If Harper had known better when she slipped into bed after too many cocktails that night with Amelie, she would have stopped herself from opening one of her biggest secrets.

Harper had been making monthly playlists of Brock for as long as she could remember. In her Spotify, they go back to 2018. She thinks it was from the only time in their life when they were separated, when Harper was finishing her degree at UND and Brock was playing across the continent in Vancouver. It was a piece of her that she had always loved to do. It felt like a sacred part of their friendship, despite Brock knowing nothing about it.

If the amaretto sours weren't fogging her brain over, she would've done a double take at sending Brock her playlist titled "Brock: May 2023." But she didn't. She just sent it.

Brock was in bed, trying to fall asleep for the night when his ringtone for Harper went off. He shot up in bed, the reality of not talking to her for a week setting in. He scrambled for his phone, and found the playlist attached with a simple message: "I miss you." He was sure that she was out drinking with Amelie, just like they did one Saturday every month. With no judgement, he remembered that she had already gone out for their get together this month, but that was the last thing on his mind as he clicked on the playlist.

The playlist had a cover, just as all of hers did. A picture of Brock smiling wide after a game that he remembered her taking at the beginning of the month. He knew the ignoring was mutual, but his heart started to sink when he thought of just how much it could have been affecting her.

"I miss you more," he replied back without even clicking on the playlist. When he did, he found out that he didn't recognize many of the songs, but they would soon become the soundtrack to the rest of May for him. The dark screen of Spotify glared up at him, the tracks listed:

cool about it by boygenius

Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers

Radio by Lana Del Rey

Cornelia Street by Taylor Swift

Labyrinth by Taylor Swift

I saw you in a dream by the Japanese House

Brock simply pressed play on the playlist and let it hum him to sleep, his heart constricting at the way that the songs related to them and how they made him feel.

~~~

Harper knew Brock like the back of her hand. She knew what made him smile and what made him front. She knew what made him feel proud and what bruised his ego. Naturally, she knew what kind of music he would like to listen to. And she knew that Brock had probably never willingly turned on a song from any of the artists that were featured on the May playlist. But she knew him. And she knew what he needed to hear.

So when he sent her a picture of the lyric "you know how much I hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back, just like that" from Labyrinth by Taylor Swift, she didn't flinch when she soon saw the caption that went with it: "how do you know exactly what I need to hear. I don't think I've ever related to a lyric more." She smiled at their affinity for each other. She was however surprised, when a Spotify link of his own came through.

Titled: Harper, May 2023.

not strong enough by boygenius

Cleopatra by the Lumineers

End of Beginning by Djo

Don't Give Up on Me by Zach Bryan

The Archer by Taylor Swift

"I see I've inspired a bit of your music taste," Harper responded with a cheeky smile. She was certain that he had never heard a boygenius song before she sent him one. "You see right through me," he responded back cheekily, her cheeks burning. Harper stared at the playlist in awe when she realized that he was in fact referring to The Archer. Before she could even think twice about it, she was drafting an email to her tattoo artist about getting the tattoo for "The Archer" that she had been wanting for months.

It seemed that a week after that conversation, with few in between, that Brock was also doing things before he could think twice about them. When he had started the trek home from his night out with the guys, they all did a double take when he asked Quinn to drop him at Harper's. He hadn't told anyone besides Petey about their sleeping together, but they could all tell that something was going on between the two childhood best friends.

"Are you sure that's a good idea bud?" Elias asked, clapping his hand on his best friend's shoulder. He knew the status of the friendship at that point and he could also recognize that Brock was beyond intoxicated. "Yeah, we're good now. Just a blip. She's expecting me." He smiled his most convincing smile at Elias and he seemed to fall for it. "Alright bud, well if she throws you out screaming give me or Quinner a call and we can take you back to your place?" He offered and Brock nodded, his feet carrying him quickly towards the door. At this point, Brock was eagerly trying to make his way to his best friend who he hadn't seen in weeks. It had now been almost three weeks since they had seen each other. Brock was soon to be heading home to Minnesota, and Harper would soon be following him. He would wait until the school year was over so he could help Harper pack up and move back home.

It was never Harper's plan to follow Brock to Vancouver, but once she followed him to UND, it seemed inevitable. It became glaringly obvious that the two of them could simply not live without each other. When Harper graduated with her bachelors in Communication Sciences and Disorders, she had already been accepted into the University of British Columbia's Masters program for Audiology and Speech Sciences. After two years in this program, Harper graduated, and got her dream job as a speech pathologist in a high school not far from her apartment.

When she first let Brock know of her plans, he was living with a teammate. He insisted that he could get out of the lease and that he wanted to live with her so that she wasn't by herself. Harper had already found another girl in the same program study as her that she would live in a nicer apartment with. She was lucky that she never had to worry about money. Both of her parents had good paying jobs, and they always supported her choice to be with Brock in Vancouver, seeing as Harper's mom's best friend is Brock's mom.

Brock made the familiar descent up to the 4th floor to Harper's apartment, typing in the code and letting himself in. It was just past 1. Harper liked to stay up late, and her roommate Carmen had gone back home to Edmonton for the summer, meaning he knew he was okay sneaking in this late.

"Harps?" He called out, heading towards her bedroom. He slowly opened the door and found her laying on her side in her bed. Her bedside lamp was still on, letting him know that she had just dozed off and hadn't actually fallen asleep for the night. Brock's eyes furrowed in on the angry red skin that lined the obviously new tattoo that she was sporting on the back of her left upper arm. A bow and arrow, with ivy detailing now adorned her arm. Small cursive words were also laced within the bow. Brock couldn't make them out from where he was standing, but he didn't have to to know that they were something from the Taylor Swift song. His heart constricted at the mere thought of that, that something that they had shared amongst each other was now permanently on her body. It would be with her for the rest of her life.

As the soft pads of his fingertips reached out to touch it, Harper shot awake, startled by the sudden touch. "Just me, honey," he rasped out. "You scared the shit out of me," she gasped, rolling over to face him but careful not to put too much pressure on the new ink she was sporting. "What are you doing here?" She mumbled, eyes squinting to adjust to the lamp light.

"I can't do this anymore," he sighed as he sat on the end of her bed. "I love you, Harper. And I want everyone to know it. I want you to know it." He confessed. Her eyes widened, sitting up to move towards him. "You're drunk." She muttered, not making eye contact with him. She knew how this would end. She had imagined it so many times, a scenario where she was able to be with her best friend, as she had wanted for so long. But they all ended the same way all of her past relationships ended: heartbreak, agony, trauma.

"I am, but I know I love you more than I could ever begin to express. You are the center of my world. Let me love you the way you deserve to be loved." His hands were now holding her own, his soft eyes pleading with hers as he reached out to touch her palm. "It's always going to be you, Harper. In every universe. Just tell me you love me and everything will be okay." His blue eyes stared into her own with more passion than she could ever comprehend. Tears welled up in her eyes, and all she could think to do was lean in and kiss Brock with all the love she had had for him since she was 16 years old.

Now at 26, as she held onto him, his steady heartbeat anchoring her to sleep under her ear, she wondered if it could have always been so easy, to love her best friend whole heartedly, and that he would love her the exact same way back. When she felt his fingertips brushing her shoulders gently, a soft hum of "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac coming from his lips, a late addition to her "Brock: May 2023" playlist, she realized she was wrong all along. Being with Brock would never lead her to heartbreak, agony, and trauma. It was Brock. Her Brock. Gentle, warm, soft as a blanket Brock. When he wrapped his arms around her, and she finally felt her lips on his once again, she realized her doubts were always just that: doubts. And with a sweep of his thumb across her cheek, they both pulled back, looking at each other and wondering if they'd feel happiness like this forever.

_____

3 months later

"You guys are absolutely disgusting," Quinn grumbled in fake agony at Brock and Harper who were cuddled up on the couch outside on the patio, watching the sunset at Brock's family lake house. "At least you don't have to share a wall with them!" Petey groaned, causing Brock to shove his shoulder. "You two should just be happy that you don't have to share a room anymore." He tried to deflect but it only caused more bickering from the two, finger pointing about who snored louder and how last summer Quinn took one too many turns sleeping on the bed and Petey had to sleep on the floor an extra night.

Harper snuggled deeper into Brock's shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent. She pulled the blanket up to puddle around her hips: Brock always ran warm, and she always ran cold, so the blanket never came anywhere near him. She reached up to brush a small piece of hair out of Brock's face as she chucked and Elias and Quinn's antics. There was nothing like enjoying the lake with Brock and their loved ones.

Of course she had spent countless days here with Brock. Many people had come through the front door and experienced the magic of the Boeser family lake house and all the memories and warmth that comes with it. But there was truly nothing like this feeling of warmth, joy, the feeling of home. She wondered if she would ever be as happy as she is in this current moment, this current summer.

When she looked up at the man next to her, the man of her dreams, she knew she would always be that happy. He was mid sentence when she couldn't resist the burning urge to kiss her lover on the cheek, leaning up to snuggle into his neck, her cold hands reaching under his sweatshirt, causing him to shiver.

"Could you guys be any more disgustingly cute? Makes me sick," Quinn muttered, taking a sip of his beer. "Yes," the two of them muttered simultaneously. Quinn and Elias just laughed, shaking their hands at the response. They knew the answer, and it wasn't that they really minded. They loved Harper and loved that Brock was happy and not embarrassingly pining after his best friend anymore.

Harper began humming along with "Sad Songs for Sad People" by Megan Moroney, one of her favorites for the month. Now that they were dating, the playlists were still made monthly, which some slight changes. They were now titled "Brock and Harper" with the month and year accompanying it, their two profile pictures snuggled up next to each other at the top. The cover photos were now pictures of the perfect couple.

At this point it was Brock who couldn't resist placing a soft kiss on his lover's lips. As they cuddled together, they both knew that they could never replicate the first summer at the lake as an official couple, but as long as they were together, the happiness, the magic, the joy of that first summer would last forever.

Brock and Harper, August 2023

Sad Songs for Sad People by Megan Moroney

All of the Girls You Loved Before by Taylor Swift

Grapejuice by Harry Styles

Golden Hour by Kacey Musgraves

Since We're Alone by Niall Horan

Lady May by Tyler Childers

Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift

I Hate Love Songs by Kelsea Ballerini

Bad for Business by Sabrina Carpenter

Starting Over by Chris Stapleton

[renegadeknight]

hi!! I've got a question about SL that's been on my mind for a while now. I remember in the notes from the first chapter u mentioned that hadn't played the video game and had only watched the series. Soo, I got curious if that has changed since then? Have you watched any gameplay of the games, and do you plan on including any aspects or scenes from Part 2 in your story? like Joel teaching Ellie to play the guitar (I'm dying for a scene of them singing together), her relationship with Dina and Jesse, the 16th birthday gift, etc. Or are you not planning on going that deep in the story? I'm super curious to know how far you want to take it haha

btw sorry if any of this is confusing, I'm Brazilian and still working on my English so I might have messed up some stuff 😭

Hii!! It's changed a bit! Mainly I've watched my partner play thru part 1 but I haven't ventured into watching any of part 2 yet because the golf plot still causes me physical and emotional distress 😅

There won't be much of part 2 in the main fic, some little nods and a certain character or two, but (as of right now) the fic will conclude before she meets Dina and Jesse.

But! I do have some bingo prompt requests specifically for more fics in the SL verse that will venture past the ending of the main fic. guitar lessons is for sure one of those but I think there's 2-3 more in my inbox too. and there are still a handful of bingo prompts available if anyone wants to request more, the card is linked in my pinned post!

Also, don't worry about your English, I had no idea it wasn't your first language until you mentioned it, you're doing wonderfully ❤️

[sinofwriting]

We hit 5 thousand followers!!! I never imagined when I created this blog years ago and starting posting fics that I’d even get a hundred followers, let alone, a thousand and now five thousand! I just want to thank everyone who has ever followed me, has ever read one of my fics, has ever liked one of them. This blog still wouldn’t be going on without you.

And on top of hitting 5k followers, my birthday is soon! That’s right, it's a double celebration!

So, in honor of hitting 5k and my birthday on May 11th, I will be doing a few things.

First, a few ask games, some to get to know me better, others about my writing/fics, and then also just some fandom fun. The other thing I will be doing is starting May 1st I will post at least one fic/blurb a day until my birthday (I may even go beyond that). (to see the asks games and more click the read more)

So, please join me in celebrating! (also, feel free to start sending in asks now, I’ll be saving them until May 1st, lol). Also, if you don’t want to see all the asks regarding my 5k and birthday celebration, block this tag: sins 5k bday bash

Ask Games: Get to know me (personal edition) Get to know me (fandom edition) Fuck, marry, kill Would you rather Ship Bingo Directors Commentary Get to know me (f1 edition)

And here is my ask box

Also, as stated before I will have at least 11 fics coming out between May 1st and May 11th and here are the fics that are coming out during that time (in no particular order): Homecoming - Oscar Piastri/Reader/Logan Sargeant (Commission) I ❤️ MILFS Blurb 1 - Max Verstappen I ❤️ MILFS Blurb 2 - Max Verstappen Pearl Necklace - Pierre Gasly Lost then Found - Charles Leclerc/Reader/Max Verstappen, Logan Sargeant/Reader

If you’ve read all the way here, I just want to say thank you again! And I can’t wait to start celebrating on May 1st!

[mp0625]

Masterlist

Mara, 20 and I'm an American NHL & F1 Fan.

I currently write for NHL, F1, and Top Gun.

My friend and I have a discord for Tumblr Hockey Fans. If you are interested in joining. Click Here!

If you would like to be tagged in a upcoming fic shoot me a message

Requests and asks are Open.

Will write for most players and drivers.

Will not write for:

Tag List Form

Started: 7/22/2023

Last Updated: 3/24/2024

Total Works: 14

Drafts: 19

Inbox: 5

Queue: 1

If you see someone on a team that they’re not currently on that is because it was written when they were on that team.

Hockey Girlies Discord Christmas Fic Exchange 2023

F1

Daniel Ricciardo

Imagine being team mates with Daniel Ricciardo

Logan Sargeant

Lazy Sunday

Oscar Piastri

Aussie! Teammate with Oscar Piastri

Pass the Cranberries

NHL

Boston Bruins

Jeremy Swayman

Under The Moonlight

Carolina Hurricanes

Frederik Andersen

Elsker For @wyattjohnston 's Lowkey LoveFest 2k24

Pyotr Kochetkov

Sun and Sand

Teuvo Teravainen

Jouluiloa For @callsign-denmark for @wyattjohnston 's Winter Fic Exchange 2K24

Colorado Avalanche

Ross Colton

Ross Colton X Reader For @cellythefloshie Birthday Bingo

Florida Panthers

Matthew Tkachuk

Game Time

New York Islanders

Anthony Beauvilliver

Being With Anthony Beauvillier On His Last Day In New York For @swissboyhisch Suprise Birthday Fic

Fairytale of New York For @swissboyhisch for the Hockey Girlies Discord Christmas Fic Exchange

Seattle Kraken

Vince Dunn

Sushi

Philpp Grubauer

Pfirsich

Tampa Bay Lightning

Andrei Vasilevskiy

Svyatoy Patrik

NHL & F1 Crossover

Race To The Net Masterlist

[dira333]

The I'm definitely not a creep Fanfic Rec - @shoulmate Edition - part 2

I don't think it's a secret that I'm a huge fan of Shoulmate's works. I just love how she manages to mix humor with real life. There are so many plot twists you'd never expect as well as heavy hitters that make you think.

Since I don't read suggestive or spicy stuff you'll not find her whole masterlist on here, but it's a pretty close call.

I organized the list from A-Z because I could never choose a favorite, but it's too much for one post, sooo.... have fun with

K-O

Kageyama

Kageyama - Doppelganger (Haruka, my love!)

Kageyama - inside jokes (this could be considered a little suggestive, but I let it slide for the absolute humor of it all)

Kageyama - what’s missing (Adlers Team) part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 (this one's such a precious thing to me!)

Kageyama - meeting you at the engagement party (I feel like this deserves a second part as well, it's got such potential! But even as it is it's great)

Kageyama - meeting again (plus Team All Star) (The banter in this is chef's kiss)

Kageyama - Fractions

Kageyama - Of being late and coming clean (This one is sooooo good)

Kageyama - Sensory Issues (Kageyama is so underrated for this one)

Kageyama - getting lost at a retreat

Kenma 😍 (do I have to say more?)

Kenma -Friendship Level UP

Kenma asks you to get to know Hinata and it backfires part 2

Kenma - sloths

Kindaichi (he deserves more love)

Kindaichi - middle of the road

Kita

Kita and newborn babies

Kita's secret child part 2 on AO3 "Delivery" (I cried reading this, it's so sweet)

Kita realizes you don't need to be fixed

Kita - study date

Kita - falling asleep

Kita - Wombat (this one's so cute!!!!)

Kita - Soulmates 

Kita - birthday

Komori

Komori - Family reunions (I love how reader plays an active part in this)

Kunimi

Kunimi and family reunions, or how depression can suck

Kunimi - cleaning duties (this one's so smooth!)

Kunimi - asking for notes

Kuroo (She writes him so flirty! I love it=

Kuroo - you woke up happy by accident (angsty)

Kuroo - running away from a party

Kuroo - the dangers of caffeine

Kuroo - impromptu Spa Day

Kuroo - Office Bingo part 1 part 2 part 3 (I swear, her mini series give me life!)

Kuroo - Rooster Head

Kuroo - spotting each other

Kuroo - flirting over water 

Kyoutani

Kyoutani - He needs you at his game (I just loved this... it's so good)

Kyoutani - The rage of Customer Service (It be like that sometimes)

Matsukawa/Mattsun (I just love how you write him)

Matsukawa and standing up for each other

Mattsun and being there when depression hits

Matsukawa - getting pestered into being their manager

Matsukawa - Quick Learner part 1 - full fic on AO3

Mattsun - Hoodies (I once had a similar idea but could not get it to paper. Now I know. It had already been done perfectly)

Meian Shugo (@emmyrosee)

Meian Shugo and you have a Valentines day tradition 1 - 2

Nishinoya

Nishinoya - someone finally flirts with him

Nishinoya - he can definitely kabedon (this made me snort so bad!)

Nishinoya gets lost

Nishinoya - Going everywhere with you

Nishinoya - Guardian Angel

Nishinoya - nothing to worry about (featuring Tanaka and Kiyoko)

Osamu (@emmyrosee)

Osamu - and Ginjima's little sister (I wish there was a part two to this, but it's so fine)

Osamu - wanna dance?

Osamu - not all change is bad

Osamu - using Atsumu as his wingman (that one was so smooth)

Oikawa (@alienaiver)

Oikawa and the one who really sees him - Full Fic Through your Lens (AO3)

Oikawa - On Bended Knee - part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9

[chiyo13]

Starting the Pedro Pascal fanfic Bingo! I'm so excited!

Just so everyone knows, I've never done something like this so I'm SO nervous XD

This awesome idea came from @burntheedges

Here's the link for a clean sheet!

@senorabond

Okay, so starting I read and reblogged Beg For It by @pedroshotwifey

Number two is Detected with Tim Rockford by @oonajaeadira

Number three: The Wolf In The Woods by @absurdthirst

Fic number four: Sink In by @heyhilana

Edit: I've got one more!!!

Edit two: I've finished and gotten a Bingo!! Guys this was fun <3 I tried to pick fics from different writers to challenge myself and I really enjoyed it!

also warning guys, I'm into some kinky stuff XD