#I tried to make a witty text post about it but I couldn’t make it sound better than what literally comes out of his mouth

[professorlegaspi]

Josh about his own emotions:

Josh about other people’s emotions:

[neptilius]

pre-dating gojo—him not giving up on her once his eyes are set on her. commenting on most of her pictures, following her on all her socials, having her and megumi pinned on his imessage , sending her flowers and little trinkets, him being the definition of “i see it, i like it, i want it, i got it.” wc; around 800

being a new teacher at jujutsu tech was overwhelming enough without the world’s most insistent sorcerer making you his personal project. from the moment you stepped foot onto the campus, satoru gojo had his sights set on you, and he wasn’t subtle about it. not even a little.

it started small at first, just lingering glances that made you wonder if you had something on your face. then came the compliments, always with that playful grin of his.

“looking sharp today,” he’d say casually, leaning against your classroom door. “you sure you’re not trying to impress someone?”

“just trying to look professional, gojo,” you’d reply, your tone firm even though his attention made your stomach flip.

but satoru gojo wasn’t one to give up when something, or someone, caught his interest.

within days, you noticed him popping up in your social media notifications. he’d followed you on everything, from instagram to twitter, even a random account you barely used. every post you made earned a comment, ranging from witty remarks to downright flirty observations.

“you really have an eye for photography,” he’d write under a scenic picture, only to follow it up with, “but the view isn’t as good as you.”

you weren’t sure if you wanted to scream or laugh, but the attention didn’t stop there.

flowers began appearing on your desk, beautiful arrangements with little notes scrawled in his messy handwriting. chocolates followed, and once, even your favorite coffee order appeared like magic during a particularly grueling morning. you tried asking who was leaving them, but every time, his students would either look away awkwardly or mutter something vague.

megumi, however, had no patience for it. “it’s obviously gojo-sensei,” he said flatly one afternoon when you found yet another bouquet. “he’s been insufferable lately.”

“fushiguro!” nobara scolded, but the slight eye roll she gave made it clear she agreed.

satoru’s antics didn’t stop there. he began finding excuses to help you with your students, offering “expert training tips” that often turned into elaborate demonstrations meant more to impress you than anyone else.

“see that?” he’d say after a particularly flashy display of cursed technique, turning to you with a cocky grin. “bet you can’t teach them that.”

“because it’s not practical,” you���d retort, ignoring the heat rising in your cheeks.

dont get me started on the memes chile... once you finally relented and gave him your number, your phone became a constant source of laughter; random memes, ridiculous videos, and occasionally, surprisingly thoughtful messages about your day.

“saw this and thought of you,” one text read, attached to a picture of a female cat on top of a male cat nuzzling noses.

it was impossible not to crack a smile, even if you tried to keep your responses measured.

but the cherry on top of gojo’s relentless pursuit? he’d even roped his students into it.

“you should just say yes already,” nobara said bluntly one day, crossing her arms as you prepared for a joint training session. “he’s annoying, but he’s also kind of great when you get past the… everything.”

megumi groaned. “don’t encourage her. he’s unbearable enough as it is.”

“he’s determined,” nobara corrected, smirking. “there’s a difference.”

you shook your head, trying to ignore how warm their words made you feel. it was hard to admit, even to yourself, that satoru’s persistence was starting to grow on you.

he was annoying, yes. overthetop? absolutely. but beneath the theatrics, there was a sincerity to his actions that you couldn’t ignore. he studied you, not in a creepy way. but in a way that made it clear he genuinely wanted to understand you.

the small things he did like— remembering your favorite snacks, asking about your hobbies, or noticing when you seemed stressed. spoke volumes about the kind of person he was beneath the surface.

one afternoon, after yet another “accidental” run in, you finally confronted him.

“what do you even want, gojo?” you asked, crossing your arms as you faced him in the courtyard.

he didn’t even flinch at your tone. instead, he smiled, that confident, playful grin softening ever so slightly.

“you,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

your breath hitched, and for once, you didn’t have a quick retort. maybe, just maybe, gojo’s persistence wasn’t as annoying as you thought.

[majesty-madness]

"The Eye of the Heart" - Satoru Gojo x reader (sfw)

Summary: He wasn't sure why all of a sudden he saw her in a different light.

Word Count: 800+

Warnings: super fluff, ambiguous mutual pining, Gojo's way of flirting, confession but not really a confession, Gojo is head over heels

a/n: not proofread and self indulgent for sure. Also commissions are available, just check out the post I made at the beginning of this week!

Main Masterlist

“Just text me when you get back home so I know you’re alive.” She said, walking him the front door.

He laughed as he stepped through the doorway and onto the second story landing. “You really think something could happen to me? Me?!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he heard her sigh. But when he turned around to face her, she was smiling. “For my own sake and sanity, please humor me. Even though you're the strongest jujutsu sorcerer to ever live, I still worry.”

Gojo’s mind kept returning to those words on the walk home. He could’ve easily teleported himself back to his penthouse, but it hadn’t even occurred to him as he went on his way. The only thought on his mind was Y/N smiling face. Even as his eyes would drift from the concrete sidewalk to the glittering lights of the night life, he could only see her. 

In all his faults, she truly accepted him for who he was though that all started a very long time ago; back in school as a matter of fact. No matter how much nonsense came out of his mouth, she took it all in stride, quickly making her his favorite person. 

And that was how he saw her, and had seen her for the last eight years or so but something changed in the last couple years. Nowadays, she was all he thought about. 

The woman he used to see as nothing more than his best and closest friend was now the source of all his dormant lovesickness. 

God, how long had it been since he felt this way? A long time. He actually wondered if he ever felt this sensation before; he couldn’t recall a time in which he was a bumbling, stumbling mess when trying to talk to women. In fact, Y/N was the only one it ever happened around but he always managed to cover it up with his witty banter. 

Now that he was painfully aware of how he felt there was no going back. Once he knew, he knew and he had to do something. 

Gojo reached the front door of his place without thinking about it, stepping inside thoughtlessly and closing the door behind him. Of course, the place was completely silent with no one to welcome him back, making him play out a scenario in his head in which Y/N welcomed him home. 

It hadn’t been the first, but it was the first time he paid attention to the daydream.

The moment he came inside, Y/N would pop up from the couch, phone forgotten on the cushions as she walked over to him. Her face would light up with a grin, so warm and welcoming his knees would buckle. Though he would never admit it out loud. 

She’d ask him how his day was, followed with a brief antidote about her own day before leaning up to kiss him. Her hands would leave their spot from his shoulders to wrap around his back, while he gripped her waist to bring her body ever closer. Several seconds pass as they’d continue to kiss each other, chasing the other’s lips once they tried to pull away and when their lungs would burn with the need for air, they finally let the other go. A moment of silence goes by as they try to breath then gently fall into hushed laughs at the fluttering in their guts. 

The thought of it made Gojo smile as he leaned against the kitchen counter. 

He soaked in the imagined warmth of that moment until he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. At first, he hadn’t realized it vibrated at all the second time it buzzed and it knocked him out of his stupor. He reached into the pocket of his pants to pull out his phone, the screen lighting up on its own when it came face to face with him. 

Immediately he could see the two text messages from Y/N. 

The first one read, Did you make it home okay?

And the other, I know you’re probably fine, I just wanted to check. 

Once again the thought of her squeezed his heart especially if she was worrying over him even if he would most certainly be fine. He could picture her slightly concerned expression, watching her chew on her bottom lip while occasionally bringing her hand up to bite at her thumb.

She called those habits annoying, but he loved them. 

He began to text out his response, No need to worry about little old me, I am perfectly fine! Being the strongest and all ;>

Three dots appeared on the screen, showing that Y/N was currently typing and Gojo didn’t dare look away until she was finished. 

OKAY, Mr. “I’m the strongest!” please eat some real food tonight! Desserts and coffee don’t count. 

He couldn’t resist the pull of fond laughter as it bubbled from his throat out into the open air, his text back being overly simple. I will, I promise.

A couple of seconds passed as he stared down at his own message, rereading the words once, then twice then three times, then four and before he knew it he was already typing something else. 

I love you. 

[rorygilmoreclown]

Kuroo x Desi!reader

Request: Kuroo with a poc/ south Asian exchange student in college. Smart witty mathematics major. (NSFW or SFW) Request by: @thefuckwasmyname

A/n: This is a grammatical abomination in terms of punctuations amongst other things. Also, is “ofcourse” an indian word of sort? Because autocorrect throws a fit and always denies that this word exists. Edit: got the error, dw I fixed it, of course.

Note: Italics are the dialogues. First dialogue is always Kuroo’s.

Word count: 1.1k

New student in the middle of the semester. You couldn’t go ignored at all. Specifically by a certain topper of the class.

Afterall you put his sport scholarship at risk. How could he ignore you.

So when that one common course came along, he saw this as an opportunity.

To flirt with you.

Because in his head, it wasn't the curiosity of seeing pretty little earrings or the little dot between your eyebrows or that pretty smile that attracted him to you; it was the fact that he wanted to win. Or maybe both.

Graciously failed to flirt as soon as he saw what you were working on.

The complex problem that your professor had assigned. THE COMPLEX PROBLEM. One which, even he, could not solve.

No matter how many times he tried to derivate. But you, were nearing the answer. That’s just not acceptable now is it.

So, now he had to distract you, the stakes were higher.

So when he saw the chance, he started the debate with you. To try and prove you wrong.

“Chain rule”

“Product rule”

“Chain rule”

“Product rule”

“Chain rule”

It was in fact the chain rule. And you were in fact right. Kuroo just didn’t want to admit it.

(Read the note before this pls)

“You are wrong you know.”

“No I am not. It is solvable by only chain rule.”

“Okay, let me convince you? I have a free lecture post lunch and before practice. “

“You could try. You will be wrong. “

That’s how your first date went. Him trying to convince him that he is right and you just sitting there trying to show him the solved version.

It became a routine of sort.

Him bringing you questions and then starting debates over them. Which turned into you sharing the questions you couldn’t solve as well

Eventually, just that one lecture was not enough to be debating over problems of all things.

So you took over each other’s lunches as well.

That’s when Kuroo discovered, your cooking

Let’s just say, for his stomach and his heart, there was no going back.

Achar from the side tiffin, getting over quicker than it was before. You reciprocated of course.

He had to buy pocky more often now.

I saw this math meme yesterday

Show

No

Huh

No

Why’d you tell me then?

Give your number, it’s a visually funny one

Or you could just show it to me from your phone

No

Fine, give your phone here

That’s how he took down your number.

A lot of stolen ladoos later….

Texting you things other than just problems started to make sense now.

His favourite being texting you indian food content he finds.

Yours being sending him kitten content in order to influence him into keeping one.

You see, your rental doesn’t allow pets. But his does.

And you had found the most adorable black cat near the campus.

He gives in in a couple of days yes. Afterall, he was the Nekoma captain.

So you both go shopping for the cat.

You see, despite being a cat person, Kuroo didn’t really know a lot about them. So you were there to help the cat out.

Not for anything else obviously.

They are as a matter of fact, allergic to milk

No, they are not. Back home I used to feed the stray cats milk and water

You didn’t know any better. I do.

No

Yes

No

Yes

I’ll google it

Go ahead

Ha!

What

They are only allergic to cow milk. Not buffalo milk.

Okay what?!

Yes, look

Next debate of yours came with the flavour of the cat food

The vet’s always suggest to start out with the chicken or ocean flavours

The salmon one looks better

Don't be stubborn on this one.

I will be.

Fine, I’ll give Kenma a call, he has cats.

Okay you do that.

Much to your dismay, Kenma suggested to start out with the ocean flavour.

Then much to your cashier’s dismay, his calculator broke down.

You could say that the cashier wanted to do the same.

Its 2080 yen

No, it’s 2210 yen

He said it’s on 20% discount didn’t he

No he said 15%

The cashier had said 10. The cashier himself spoke.

So it’s 2340!

Both of you claimed at the same time.

Did you finish the assignment yet?

You rolled your eyes at his text.

No, I’m on it

Okay, send it once you are done

No

Please

Okay, what will I get in return

A date

With who

With me obviously

No

You dare reject my advances

Fine, I’ll send it

Thankyou. Now that’s more like it

Stop being an asshole, doesn’t suit you

It suits me about 70%

We talked about this Kuroo

Yes we did

It was 20%

No

If it couldn’t get any better, you were also good at chemistry, but decided to drop it due to excess course load.

So it didn’t surprise Kuroo when you could correct his assignment and tell him that he had attempted a 10 marker incorrectly.

You had a fight about it for a while, but he did end up agreeing that it was D-erythrose and not D-threose.

(for context these molecules have similar structure, but not exactly the same)

Once this happened. Kuroo was no longer kidding himself.

He finally admitted to himself that he indeed does like you a lot more than he had planned and also the fact that you were better at math

So when he finally decided to confess, it wasn’t surprising to him and you either.

You had noticed the long stares, the teasing behind the red ears of his.

Because you were doing the same of course.

But Kuroo being Kuroo, decided to be extra about it.

He decided that the best way to confess to you would be to spell out your name and the confession as functions

Spent literal days on it

Even asked you to graph a few small things.

Didn’t tell you what of course, but you anyways helped him.

After he showed it to you, you literally got up and left.

Didn’t even say a word.

Left the poor guy hanging.

Well, he just justified it in his brain that he had miscalculated your actions as liking him back.

He decided to save himself the future embarrassments and never to talk to you again.

Gave up on the idea of him liking anyone else ever again

Lost the meaning of life.

Caved into depression.

All this in the span of 4 minutes 33 seconds that you were gone.

You came back with a “I feel the same” text on the graph as functions for his confession.

Boy lit up.

Deflated again

How’d you manage this within 4 minutes?

You just laughed.

[rosemariiaa]

~All Eyes on You~

part: 2

pairing: Paige x Oc

a/n: ok i really like the way i made the insta kind of post! yes paige is a stalker but we knew that lol! pretty long.. anyway happy reading lovelies 💌

warnings: teasing, language, sexual innuendos

Enjoy!!!

Victoria.C

curls or no?

Liked by paigebueckers and others

| paigebueckers ouu who’s this diva? 🤗

↪️ Victoria.C hi paige :)

comments…

It had been a week since the charity event, and Victoria couldn’t shake the thought of Paige. They’ve been having more interactions ever since that night. Everything about their brief conversations lingered in her mind—how easy it felt, how Paige seemed genuinely interested in her, and the way she could make Tori laugh without even trying.

Jason had been worse than ever lately, blowing up her phone with his usual jealousy and controlling bullshit. Every interaction with him felt like a chore, draining her more than she was willing to admit. But there was one bright spot in her life lately—Paige.

It wasn’t just that Paige followed her on Instagram; it was the comments, the messages, the way Paige seemed to pop up at the perfect moment to distract Tori from everything else. Like now, for instance. Tori had posted some selfies from her car and bathroom showing off her glowy tan skin and bouncy curls. It wasn’t anything special, but Paige had commented almost immediately.

I’m liking what i see princess. You ever have a bad day or nah?

Tori smiled, her fingers hovering over her phone as she tried to think of something witty to say back.

Princess? Don’t gas me up too much, Bueckers. You’ll give me a big head.

She sent it, then rolled her eyes at herself. What am I even doing?

But her phone buzzed almost immediately.

I mean, if the shoe fits. I call it like I see it.

Tori laughed quietly to herself, trying not to grin too much. Paige had a way of making her feel like the only person in the room, even over texts.

You’re ridiculous, you know that?

Only sometimes. Admit it though, you love the attention.

Tori’s heart raced a little as she typed out her next message.

Who says I’m not getting attention from other people?

Lmao. Okay, Tori. I see you.

But let’s be real, none of those other people are me.

Tori bit her lip, trying not to let her smile get too big. Paige was right, though. There wasn’t anyone else like her.

For the rest of the night, they kept texting back and forth, the conversation getting more playful, more flirty with each message. Every time her phone buzzed, it was Paige, saying something that made Tori forget about the stress in her life, if only for a moment.

But Jason’s messages kept coming too. His jealousy was getting worse. Tori hadn’t even done anything, but that didn’t stop him from accusing her of talking to other guys, demanding to know where she was and what she was doing.

Why the fuck are you ignoring me?

You better not be texting anyone else right now.

Saw you liked Paige Bueckers’ post. You think I’m fucking stupid? What, you into girls now?

Tori groaned, tossing her phone onto the bed. The dude was insufferable. Why am I still with him? Her phone buzzed again, but this time it wasn’t Jason. A message from Paige lit up her screen, and she couldn’t help but smile as she opened it.

You still up? Or did I finally bore you to death?

I’m still here, don’t flatter yourself.

What are you up to?

Trying to find something to watch. You got any good recommendations or nah?

I bet you got trash taste.

You think I’m about to let you roast my TV taste? Absolutely not.

Lmao, come on. What are you watching? I need new shit to binge.

Honestly? I’m rewatching the big bang theory because I have no life.

Damn, guess I’m the only exciting thing going on for you lately, huh?

Tori rolled her eyes at her phone but couldn’t stop smiling.

Please, don’t flatter yourself. You’re like… mildly interesting at best.

Oh yeah? Then why do you keep texting me back?

That comment made Tori pause. She stared at the message for a second longer than she should have, feeling that little spark in her chest again. Why do I keep texting her back?

Touché.

Thought so.

You gotta admit, I make your day a little better. I can tell you’ve been smiling at your phone this whole time.

Okay, chill. You’re not all that.

Nah, I’m definitely all that.

Tori laughed out loud, biting her lip to stop herself from grinning so hard. Paige was… too much. But she was exactly what Tori needed right now. Something light, something fun, someone who didn’t make everything so heavy and complicated. Paige made her feel like she could breathe again, even if it was just through a screen. The smile lingered on Tori’s face as she typed her next message.

Alright, I’ll give you that. You make my day a little better.

See? Was that so hard to admit?

Next step: you stop pretending and just tell me you miss me.

Tori laughed softly at her phone, shaking her head.

Miss you? We hung out like once.

And yet, here we are, texting like old friends.

You miss me, Tori. Just admit it.

Tori’s heart raced a little. Paige was flirting, clearly. But it wasn’t over the top. It was just enough to keep Tori on her toes.

She paused before typing back.

Maybe I do.

The message hung there for a second, and before Tori could second-guess it, Paige’s response popped up almost immediately.

Knew it.

Tori shook her head, laughing to herself. Paige’s confidence was kind of infuriating, but also… incredibly attractive. She was about to type something else when her phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn’t Paige.

It was Jason. Again.

You haven’t responded to me in hours. You’re probably texting someone else, aren’t you?

Her smile instantly faded, and the familiar wave of frustration hit her. She didn’t even want to look at his texts anymore. He’d been getting worse every day, his possessiveness suffocating her.

She was so tired of it. Of him.

But then her phone buzzed again—Paige, like a breath of fresh air.

You good?

Tori sighed and hesitated for a second before responding.

Honestly, not really. Just dealing with some shit.

Damn, sorry to hear that. Anything I can do to help?

Tori smiled weakly at her phone. Paige didn’t even know how much she was helping, just by being there, just by distracting her from the mess that was her life.

You’re already helping. I think you might be the only thing keeping me sane right now.

I’m glad I could provide some entertainment. But seriously, Tori, if you need to talk, I’m here.

That message made Tori pause again. Paige wasn’t just flirting anymore. She was genuinely offering to be there for her. And that made Tori’s chest tighten in a way she wasn’t prepared for.

Thanks, Paige. I really appreciate that.

She stared at the screen for a moment longer, the weight of everything hitting her all at once. The mess with Jason, the suffocating relationship she was stuck in, and this new connection with Paige that felt so easy, so right. Tori closed her eyes, trying to shake the thoughts from her mind. But one thing was clear—Paige was the one thing keeping her grounded right now.

————-

Victoria wakes up to the soft morning light filtering through her blinds. Her phone is the first thing she grabs, almost instinctively checking her notifications. There’s a lingering buzz of excitement as she hopes to see another message from Paige. She scrolls to her Instagram, the post Paige had commented on staring back at her. There’s something about seeing Paige’s name and comment that makes her heart race a little faster than she’d like to admit.

God, why am I so stuck on this? It’s just Paige…you’re average blonde white chick.

But just as she’s about to scroll past the comment, her phone lights up with a text from Jason.

Jason: “Good morning. You doing anything today?”

She stares at the message, rolling her eyes. He always acts like everything’s fine after being possessive and picking fights. She feels her stomach sink a little as she realizes she’s more disappointed about not hearing from Paige than about Jason’s text.

Jason texts again before she even has the chance to respond.

Jason: “You didn’t respond last night. Where were you? Who were you with?”

Victoria groans, tossing her phone to the side. This is exactly what’s been draining her. The constant questioning, the insecurity. She’s tired of it. After a moment, she picks up the phone again, deciding to ignore Jason for now. Instead, she heads to Instagram, pulling up her DMs. Paige’s name is right there in the conversation list from last night, and Victoria bites her lip, wondering if she should make the first move this time.

She hesitates for a second before typing:

“You alive?”

A few moments pass, and Victoria starts second-guessing sending the message, until her phone vibrates. It’s Paige.

“Barely. What’s up?”

Victoria smiles, feeling a little thrill run through her. This is already the highlight of her morning.

“Just checking if last night’s convo knocked you out.”

“Please, Tori, I’m unstoppable.”

“Unstoppable, huh? Is that what they’re calling it now?”

“You’ll have to see for yourself.”

Victoria’s heart skips a beat at the response, and she’s suddenly very aware of the smile on her face.

But just as she’s about to respond, her phone starts ringing—it’s Jason, again. With a frustrated sigh, she declines the call, dropping her phone beside her on the bed. She knows she can’t avoid him forever, but right now, she’d rather think about Paige and this… whatever it is between them.

After a few more minutes of talking with Paige, Victoria feels bold enough to suggest meeting up. She hesitates for a second, typing and deleting before finally sending the message.

“You in the mood for a coffee run?”

She stares at her phone, anxiously waiting for Paige to respond. It doesn’t take long.

“Always. I’ll pick you up in 30.”

Victoria smiles, her stomach doing a little flip. She quickly gets out of bed, throwing on something casual but cute—just enough to catch Paige’s attention. A lacy v neck white top and ripped jeans, with her hair pulled up into a messy bun. She checks herself in the mirror, satisfied, before heading out the door.

————-

30 Minutes Later…

Paige pulls up outside Victoria’s place, driving a sleek black jeep. Victoria gets in, and immediately, the energy between them is different—charged, but comfortable. Paige gives her a once-over, smirking as she pulls out of the driveway.

“Damn, Tori, is this your casual look? No wonder you’re always blowing up on my phone on literally every app.”

Victoria rolls her eyes, feeling her face heat up despite herself. “Please. I barely post anything.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Paige says, side-eyeing her with a teasing grin. “Had to scroll back pretty far through insta.” Victoria’s eyes widen. “Oh, so you’ve been stalking my Instagram now? That’s funny but i’m not surprised.”

Paige chuckles, shrugging as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. “Touché. But let’s not act like you weren’t waiting for me to like those photos.”

Victoria’s heart skips a beat at Paige’s confidence, and for a second, she’s not sure how to respond. Before she can think of a clever comeback, they pull up to a small, cozy coffee shop tucked away from the main street. They step inside, and the atmosphere is warm and inviting. The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, and there’s a soft hum of chatter around them. Paige leads the way to the counter, glancing back at Victoria.

“What are you having?”

Victoria shrugs, looking over the menu. “I’ll probably just get a latte.”

Paige grins. “I’ll grab it. You go find us a spot.”

Victoria nods, heading over to a quiet corner of the shop by the window. She sits down, taking a deep breath, trying to figure out why her heart is racing like this. She knows it’s because of Paige, and the more she tries to ignore it, the more obvious it becomes.

Paige joins her with their drinks, sliding the cup over to her. They sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, just sipping their coffee and watching the people outside. “So,” she begins, her voice soft, “what’s got you all wrapped up lately? I noticed your texts seemed a little off this morning and last night.”

Victoria exhales slowly, the weight of Jason’s constant nagging starting to bubble to the surface. “It’s just… Jason. He’s been more possessive lately. I didn’t answer his calls last night, and now he’s acting like I’m hiding something from him.”

Paige raises an eyebrow, her gaze sharp. “He sounds like a piece of work.”

Victoria laughs bitterly. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Paige leans back in her chair, crossing her arms as she looks at Victoria. “So, what are you going to do about it?” Victoria fidgets with her coffee cup, feeling the weight of the question. She knows what she should do, but it’s not that easy. “I don’t know. I’m just… tired, you know? Tired of always being the one who has to calm him down or reassure him. It’s exhausting.”

Paige watches her for a moment, then reaches across the table, placing her hand over Victoria’s. It’s a small gesture, but the warmth from Paige’s hand sends a comforting jolt through her.

“You deserve better than that, Tori.”

Victoria looks up, her eyes meeting Paige’s. There’s something in the way Paige is looking at her—soft but intense, like she really means it. Victoria feels her chest tighten, the air between them suddenly thick with tension. “Yeah, maybe I do.”

They sit like that for a few more moments, the coffee shop buzzing around them, but all Victoria can focus on is the feeling of Paige’s hand on hers. The moment feels significant, like a shift in something she didn’t even realize was happening. After finishing their coffee, Paige stands up and stretches, glancing out the window. “You up for a walk? It’s too nice out to head home already.”

Victoria smiles, feeling a little lighter after talking things out with Paige. “Yeah, a walk sounds perfect.”

They leave the coffee shop, stepping into the bright sunlight, the early morning air crisp around them. The city is alive with people going about their day, but there’s a sense of calm between them as they fall into an easy stride. Their shoulders occasionally brush against each other, sending subtle but electric jolts through Victoria.

As they walk, Victoria notices a puppy trotting along the sidewalk with its owner, its tiny tail wagging furiously. Without a second thought, she gasps and kneels down to greet it.

“Oh my god, hi!” she coos, her voice softening as she reaches out to the little fluffball. The puppy bounds over to her, immediately licking her hand. “Aren’t you the cutest thing ever?” Victoria laughs, her entire face lighting up as she pets the puppy, her fingers scratching behind its ears. She leans down even more, planting a soft kiss on its nose.

Paige watches from a few steps back, her heart swelling at the sight. There’s something so genuine and carefree about Victoria in this moment—it’s like all the stress and frustration she’s been carrying with Jason just melts away. Paige can’t help but smile, feeling her chest tighten for a whole different reason now.

“You’re good with dogs,” Paige says, her voice lower as she watches Victoria with soft eyes.

Victoria looks up from the puppy, her smile wide as she scratches behind its ears one more time. “I’ve always loved dogs. I want one so bad, but with everything going on, I’m barely keeping my head above water.”

The vulnerability in her words hits Paige, and she steps closer, slipping her hands into her pockets. “You’d make a great dog mom,” she teases lightly, her tone warm. “Maybe you can get one when things calm down… or when you ditch the extra baggage.”

Victoria lets out a small laugh at that, standing back up. “Yeah, well, we’ll see if that happens anytime soon.”

They continue walking, but now there’s a shift. Victoria is more relaxed, and Paige keeps stealing glances at her, admiring the way her face softens when she talks about the things she loves, the way she glows in the sunlight. She wants to say something, but she keeps it to herself for now, not wanting to push anything too soon.

As they walk a little farther, there’s a comfortable silence between them. Victoria is lost in her thoughts, feeling lighter, while Paige is struggling to hold back how much she’s enjoying this—how much she’s enjoying her.

Eventually, Victoria speaks up again. “You didn’t say much back there when I was venting about Jason,” she says, glancing over at Paige. Paige shrugs, her gaze still focused ahead. “It’s not really my place, you know? But for what it’s worth, you seem like you already know what you need to do.”

Victoria sighs, shoving her hands into her hoodie pockets. “Yeah… I do. I’m just scared of actually doing it.”

Paige stops walking, turning to face her. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, Tori. You’ve got this. And I’m here for you… whatever you need.”

Victoria looks up at her, surprised by how genuine Paige sounds. Her heart skips a beat as Paige’s words sink in. She’s not used to someone being so… supportive. It’s not something Jason has ever given her, and it makes her realize just how different things feel with Paige.

“Thanks,” she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige smiles, her gaze lingering on Victoria’s eyes for a second longer than necessary. “Anytime.”

As they continue walking, Paige can’t help but bring the conversation back to Victoria’s interaction with the puppy. “I gotta admit,” Paige says with a smirk, “watching you go full soft mode on that puppy was pretty cute.”

Victoria scoffs, a blush creeping up her neck. “Oh, shut up,” she laughs, shoving Paige’s shoulder playfully. “You’re just jealous.”

Paige raises an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Jealous? Please. If anything, I was just wondering if you’d give me the same amount of attention.”

Victoria stops in her tracks, turning to face Paige with a teasing grin. “Oh? Is that what you want, Bueckers? For me to pet you and kiss your nose?”

Paige bursts out laughing, but there’s a glint in her eye as she steps closer to Victoria, closing the small distance between them. “I mean… I wouldn’t say no to that,” she teases, her voice dropping a little, making Victoria’s heart race.

Victoria rolls her eyes, feeling her face heat up. “You’re impossible.”

Paige just grins, leaning in a little more, her face inches from Victoria’s now. “And yet, you can’t seem to stay away.”

Victoria feels the breath catch in her throat, her pulse quickening. She’s suddenly all too aware of how close Paige is, how the air between them feels electric. But instead of pulling away, she smirks, meeting Paige’s gaze head-on.

“We’ll see how long that lasts,” she says, her voice low but playful.

Paige’s grin doesn’t falter. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere.”

After their walk, Victoria can’t shake the feeling of warmth that’s lingering. As they make their way back to her place, Paige is walking a little ahead, and Victoria finds herself watching Paige, her thoughts wandering.

Why does everything feel so different with her?

It’s been gnawing at her since their first encounter, but now it’s undeniable. She can feel it in the way her heart skips every time Paige flashes that stupid, confident smile. She never felt this way with Jason—not even close. Sure, Jason had a certain pull over her, but it was never like this. Never this… easy.

As they approach her apartment, Victoria’s mind is racing, the weight of it all finally hitting her. This is more than just a little crush. This is something real, something I can’t ignore anymore.

Paige glances back at her, catching her staring, and smirks. “You good, Vic? You look like you’re lost in space.” Victoria snaps out of her thoughts, blushing slightly as she catches up. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

“About me, I hope,” Paige teases, winking as they walk through the front door.

Victoria rolls her eyes, trying to play it cool. “You wish.”

But inside, her heart is doing flips.

Once inside, Victoria offers Paige a drink before they settle on the couch. Victoria flips through the TV channels aimlessly, trying to distract herself from the way her pulse quickens with Paige sitting so close to her. Paige stretches her long legs out, getting comfortable as she steals the remote from Victoria’s hand.

“I’m picking something,” Paige says with a grin, not even waiting for a response as she scrolls through Netflix.

Victoria just shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips. How is she so effortlessly charming?

As they settle into a show, the room falls into a comfortable silence. Paige’s presence feels calming, but at the same time, Victoria can’t focus on the screen at all. Her thoughts keep drifting back to how right this feels. Being with Paige doesn’t feel forced or exhausting—it’s natural. It’s easy.

She can feel the tension between them, like an unspoken question hanging in the air, and for the first time, she lets herself admit that she doesn’t just like Paige. She wants her—her attention, her smile, her everything.

But then the doubts start creeping in. What am I even doing? She just sorta got out of a messy situation with Jason, and now she’s falling for someone else? Is this even okay?

Paige must’ve sensed her sudden mood shift because she nudges Victoria with her elbow. “You sure you’re good? You’re super quiet all of a sudden.”Victoria takes a deep breath and glances at Paige. Her heart flutters when she meets her gaze—those blue eyes piercing into hers, searching for something more.

“I’m… Yeah, I’m good,” Victoria finally says, but her voice wavers a bit.

Paige narrows her eyes, not buying it. “Bullshit.”

Victoria lets out a soft laugh. “Okay, maybe I’m not fine. It’s just…” She hesitates, unsure if she’s ready to spill everything.

Paige leans in, her arm resting on the back of the couch as she watches Victoria intently. “Look, you can talk to me, Tori. What’s going on?”

Victoria bites her lip, feeling the weight of the moment. She looks away, staring at the TV, but she’s not really seeing anything. Her mind is racing, trying to sort through her feelings.

“I don’t know,” she finally admits, her voice quiet. “It’s just…” She inhaled sharply before speaking again. “I’ve been feeling things. For you. And it’s weird because I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Not even Jason.”

Paige stays quiet, letting Victoria continue.

“I guess it’s just confusing, you know? Because I’m not used to… this.” She gestures between them, her cheeks flushing slightly. “It’s new. But it feels… right. And that freaks me out.”

Paige watches her, a slow smile spreading across her face. She shifts closer to Victoria, her hand lightly brushing against her leg. “You think I don’t feel the same way?” she asks, her voice low and playful.

Victoria’s breath catches as she glances down at Paige’s hand on her thigh. She swallows hard, her pulse racing.

“I wasn’t sure,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige’s fingers trail up her thigh, sending shivers down Victoria’s spine. “Well, now you know.”

The air between them crackles with tension, and Victoria feels her body responding to Paige’s touch, every nerve alive and buzzing. She turns her head to face Paige, their eyes locking in an intense gaze.

“You’re so cute when you’re nervous,” Paige teases, her lips curving into a smirk as her hand inches a little higher.

Victoria lets out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

Paige leans in closer, her breath warm against Victoria’s ear. “And yet, you still want me.”

Victoria’s cheeks flush red, but she can’t deny the truth in Paige’s words. She does want her. Every inch of her is screaming for it, but there’s still a small part of her that’s holding back.

“I just…” Victoria starts, her voice trailing off as Paige moves even closer, her lips brushing against Victoria’s jawline.

“Just what?” Paige whispers, her lips ghosting over Victoria’s skin, sending chills down her spine.

Victoria’s breath hitches, her heart pounding in her chest. She can barely think straight with Paige this close, with her vanilla scent filling her senses and her touch setting her skin on fire.

“I just… don’t want to mess this up,” she finally says, her voice trembling slightly.

Paige pulls back just enough to look into Victoria’s eyes, her hand still resting on her thigh. “You’re not going to mess anything up, Tori,” she says softly, her voice gentle now. “I promise.”

Victoria’s heart flutters at the sincerity in Paige’s voice, and for the first time, she feels a sense of calm wash over her. Maybe she’s overthinking this. Maybe it’s okay to just… feel for once.

Victoria breaks the tension with a small smile, her usual confidence returning. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?” she teases, her tone lightening.

Paige grins, leaning back slightly but keeping her hand on Victoria’s thigh. “Pretty much, yeah.”

Victoria rolls her eyes, but she can’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “You’re so cocky.”

Paige laughs, her fingers giving Victoria’s thigh a playful squeeze. “Only because I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh, do you now?” Victoria shoots back, her voice playful as she raises an eyebrow.

Paige leans in again, her lips dangerously close to Victoria’s. “You tell me,” she whispers, her eyes flicking down to Victoria’s lips.

Victoria’s heart skips a beat, her breath catching as she feels the tension building between them again. She knows she should probably slow down, but right now, all she can think about is how much she wants to close the gap between them.

Victoria doesn’t hold back this time. She leans in, pressing her lips softly against Paige’s, her hand sliding up to cup the back of Paige’s neck. Paige doesn’t hesitate to respond, deepening the kiss as her fingers tighten on Victoria’s thigh.

The kiss is slow at first, both of them savoring the moment. But as the tension between them builds, it becomes more heated, their bodies pressing closer together.

Paige’s hands move to Victoria’s waist, pulling her even closer as their kiss intensifies. Victoria’s fingers tangle in Paige’s hair, a soft moan escaping her lips as she feels the heat between them rising. But before things can go any further, Victoria pulls back slightly, her breath coming in soft pants as she stares into Paige’s eyes. “You’re so fucking hot,” she whispers, her voice full of admiration.

Paige smirks, her hands still resting on Victoria’s waist. “I could say the same about you angel,” she replies, her voice low and teasing.

They share a small laugh, the intensity between them softening into something more playful. But even as they joke, the tension is still there, simmering just beneath the surface.

Victoria stands up, stretching her arms above her head, trying to shake off the lingering heat from their kiss. “Alright, get out,” she says playfully, motioning toward the door but not quite ready for Paige to leave.

Paige raises an eyebrow, her lips curling into a teasing smirk. “Oh, now you’re kicking me out? Just when things were getting interesting, baby.”

Victoria feels a flush rise to her cheeks at the nickname, her heart racing. “You think you can just charm your way in and out like that?”

Paige takes a step closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I don’t just think it; I know it. You’re the one who’s flustered, princess.” She leans in, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Look at you—blushing like crazy.” Victoria bites her lip, fighting back a smile as she tries to maintain her composure. “Shut up. I’m not blushing.”

Paige leans in even closer, brushing her fingers lightly along Victoria’s arm. “Sure you’re not. But you know, if you wanted to see how flustered I can make you, all you had to do was ask.”

Victoria can feel the tension building again, her heart racing as she locks eyes with Paige. “And what if I don’t want to know?” she retorts, trying to sound defiant but failing miserably as her voice wavers slightly.

Paige grins, clearly enjoying the playful banter. “Oh, come on. You know you want to find out. Just imagine what else I could do to you if I had you all to myself, all night long.”

Victoria swallows hard, her pulse quickening as she imagines the possibilities. “You’ve lost it.”

Paige takes another step closer, their bodies nearly touching now. “I mean, I’m just saying… It could be fun.” She brushes her thumb across Victoria’s jawline, tilting her head slightly to meet her gaze.

“Fun?” Victoria repeats, her breath hitching as Paige’s hand slides to her waist, pulling her in closer. “Like, how fun?”

Paige leans in again, her lips brushing against Victoria’s ear. “Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean, Tori. But maybe you’re just scared to find out.”

Victoria gasps softly at the sensation, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness flooding her system. “I…”

Before she can finish her thought, Paige’s expression turns playful again. “But I know the rules. If you want a sleepover, you’ve got to earn it.” “Ugh, seriously?” Victoria rolls her eyes, but she can’t help but smile, her competitive spirit igniting. “You think you can just tease me and get away with it?”

Paige steps back toward the door, winking at her. “Oh, I know I can. And trust me, I’m up for the challenge if you are. I will definitely get that sleepover soon.”

As Paige turns to leave, she glances back one last time, her eyes smoldering with desire. She closes the gap between them, capturing Victoria’s lips in another heated kiss, deepening the connection as she pulls Victoria closer, their bodies fitting perfectly together. Victoria melts into the kiss, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair, feeling the warmth radiating between them.

Paige pulls back slightly, their foreheads resting together, both breathing heavily. “You taste so sweet,” she murmurs, brushing her thumb across Victoria’s cheek. Victoria’s heart races, her cheeks flushing. “You’re not too bad yourself, Bueckers.”

Paige smiles, leaning in for another kiss, this one soft and lingering, full of promise. Victoria’s hands slide down to Paige’s waist, pulling her even closer, their bodies pressed tightly together. The kiss deepens, and Paige’s hands roam over Victoria’s back, sending electricity coursing through both of them.

As they finally pull apart, both breathless and slightly dazed, Paige smirks. “Now, that’s how you earn a sleepover.”

Victoria chuckles, her heart racing. “Good luck with that. You have some serious competition.”

Paige leans in once more, brushing her lips against Victoria’s, teasingly whispering, “Oh, I thrive on competition, you know that.”

As Paige turns to leave, she glances back one last time. “Goodnight, princess,” she whispers, her voice low and sultry.

Victoria watches her go, her heart racing and her thoughts a jumbled mess. “Goodnight, Bueckers,” she replies, trying to sound casual but feeling anything but.

As the door clicks shut, Victoria leans against it, taking a moment to catch her breath. What the hell just happened?

———-

tags: @thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @ohbueckers @mrsarnold

[lifeafterthelayoff]

Part II, Day 123

For the sake of continuity, this update comes from the road. (Barely.) When I started the second round of Life After the Layoff posts 123 days ago, I didn’t know how long it was going to last. But I did know that I wanted to keep going and keep doing it every day. In the few times that I spent an overnight somewhere else, I wrote an update from the computer that I had in tow. But this weekend I’m celebrating my nephew's birthday in my home state of Iowa. I didn’t want to mess around with bringing a computer along, so I’m doing this from my phone. It doesn’t seem like a big deal today. We do so much from our phones we don’t even think about it anymore. I remember trying to make shortcuts of my own with hardware that was much less powerful. When I got a flip phone that could do something more than a phone call or send a text, I remember taking pictures and sending them to the OG photo posting site, Flickr. I included a witty caption on each. It was like my own hacky version of Instagram years before that company existed. I’ve been lucky enough to work on many mobile-friendly and app-based digital experiences. Living with the limitations of a tapped-screen interface makes you think much differently about how to approach problem solving. I’m thinking differently about it tonight as I type this with two thumbs in the hotel room. I tried using the voice-to-text feature with my AirPods while my daughter and I were on treadmills in the hotel gym. The mic couldn’t quite cut it. I’ve been using my voice to dictate drafts of these posts for a while, but you don’t always have a quiet front porch or office where you can utter things into this rectangle. This is why as a designer, I actually like to personally feel the drag of a sub-par experience in real life while using technology. Where does it work? Where does it stop working? What can I do here with ease? I’m building empathy as my right thumb cramps up. 👍🏻 The planner in me would’ve created a draft to post ahead of time. But the artist in me wants this to be as direct of an experience as possible, infused with what’s happened that day. If I head out of town again, I think I’ll save my thumbs and bring the laptop!

[frost-queen]

Scooping hearts (Reader!Sinclaire x Steve Harrington)

Requested by: Anon,  Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @theletterhart, @alex–awesome–22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @denkisclown, @automaticbakeryfreakshoe, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @october-leaves​

Two windows got slide open from the middle, an eager Steve smiling. – “Welcome to Scoops ahoy!” – called he out. You tapped the little bell on the counter to back him up with a giddy smile. Steve jumped on top of the counter, swaying his legs through the opening. – “You know there is a door, right?” – stated you, pointing with your ice-scoop at the door. Steve eyed the door, shrugging his shoulders. He landed on his feet with a loud thud. Steve came standing beside you, looking over the many flavors of ice cream. There were little customers, giving the two of you some time to chat away. Steve exhaled deep, turning his back towards the counter, leaning against it. 

Peeking at him, smiled you. – “Getting old Harrington?” – teased you, cleaning the counter. He laughed breathlessly, batting his eyes to the ceiling. He was about to say a remark when some giggling ladies caught his attention. Over his shoulder, saw he them laugh girlishly, enjoying their ice cream. Steve threw them a kind smile that set them off laughing louder. Sighing loud, turned Steve his attention back to the open windows. – “It’s the hat.” – mumbled he to himself. – “Oh it is definitely the hat.” – joked you out, poking him in the side. Steve curled up a smile, turning side-ways to you, his elbow leaning on the counter. – “It looks great on you.”

His compliment made your toes curl. Pressing your lips together, suppressed you a girl squeak. – “It does not.” – added you to not make him feel bad, giving him a soft push against his shoulder. – “No, I mean it Y/n. This whole sailor thing is working for you.” – you couldn’t control the heat coming to your cheeks, hoping it wouldn’t show too much. – “It does so for you.” – eyeing him turned Steve a full circle for you with a loud hum. Laughing loud, like you how easily Steve could make you smile. – “Only the hat is indeed a buzz kill.” – you snatched the hat from his head, holding it behind your back. – “Your hair is way to great to be hidden like that.” – Steve couldn’t agree more. 

“I know right.” – exclaimed he. – “Hey!” – both of you turned your heads to the window. Robin had placed a white board on the counter. She sneered, drawing a line underneath the text ‘you suck’. With a witty glance, exaggerated she, her statement. Steve was used to it, waving his hand up for her to disappear. Robin took the white board down, sliding the two windows shut again. Steve felt a bit naked, something missing. He batted his eyes up. – “Where is my hat?” – questioned he.

You tried to hold back your laugh, waving the hat behind your back. He suddenly remembered what happened to it, grinning at you. His hand made a motion towards you. You took a step back, keeping him out of reach. – “Y/n?” – said he, quirking his eyebrow up. You kept smiling at him, seeing him attempt another time to get his hat. You swayed your body to the left, avoiding his grippy fingers. Steve narrowed his eyes playfully at you, ready to take on the challenge. He moved his hand towards your back, trying to get it. You turned to the right as he took the opportunity to snatch it from you. 

He had a grip on his hat as you squealed loud. Moving your back quickly, wanted you him to let go. Steve clenched his jaw, focusing more on taking it from you. He started to get closer, overruling any rules. He moved both his hands around you, leaning in close. He smirked, his face inches away from yours. Gulping felt you flustered in his presence. He had a hold of his hat, calling loud ‘aha!’. He pulled at it, freeing it from your grip. Waving it victorious high above you, cheered he loud. You tried to take it from him, but it was no use. Surrendering, allowed you Steve to put his hat back on.

He let his hip bump against yours, giving you a little tease. You collected your ice scoop again when Steve was leaning against his hand, his elbow resting on the counter, staring at you. He heard some familiar voices, making him take a sneak of it. He immediately straightened his back. – “This one is yours!” – called he out, motioning with his head to the upcoming customers. You sighed with a soft roll of your eyes. – “Good luck.” – whispered Steve at you, his hand resting on your shoulder. He then hurried to the back, leaving you with the wrath of the next customer. – “Sister!” – said you with a plastered smile. 

“Y/n!” – replied Erica, glaring a bit at you. Two of her friends standing behind her. You loved her but when it came to visiting your workplace, she could boil your blood. – “I’d like to try that taste.” – She pointed at a blue flavored ice cream. A smile plastered on her face that you knew had a hidden meaning. Sighing told you her. – “You already know what that tastes like.” – Erica released an ungrateful breath. – “I want to taste it!” – spoke she between a clenched jaw. You twirled your ice scoop in front of her. – “I can’t keep giving you free samples, dear sister.” – Erica pushed your ice scoop down that was circling in front of her face.

“We want free samples!” – called she out, not wanting to look uncool in front of her friends. – “And I can’t give you it.” – answered you, leaning over the counter to her. Erica stomped her foot against the ground, fists pounding down. – “Give me free ice cream or I’ll tell that nerd you like him!” – threatened she. You laughed, not fully understanding the meaning of her lousy threat. – “What nerd?” – laughed you out till it suddenly hit you. Erica quirked her eyebrows up till you got it. – “You wouldn’t!” – hissed you at her, keeping your voice low. Erica was gleaming with self-pride. – “Oh, I would.” – she readied her hand against her mouth to call out loud. 

“Don’t!” – called you out, grabbing her by the wrist. – “I’ll give you all the ice cream you need.” – whispered you out. – “Just don’t tell Steve.” – Erica practically rubbed her hands together at her victory. She looked over her shoulder to her friends, ready to take in their appreciation. – “What flavors do you want.” – asked you on a dull tone, knowing you had been defeated by your own sister. She started listing flavors as you had no other choice but to give her what she demanded. Erica was gleaming at the ice cream in her hand. – “Don’t come complaining to me when you have a stomachache!” – shouted you at her. Erica shot you a soft glare, sitting down with her friends.

Robin came from out of the back, seeing you take a deep sigh. She glanced over to the table Erica had come sitting at. – “That rough?” – asked she, giving you another metal container of ice cream. – “You have no idea.” – answered you, trading her full container with an almost empty one. It looked more presentable to see the containers full of ice cream then almost eaten out. Robin stared at you for a moment as you opened your wallet, throwing some money in the cashier to repay the ice cream Erica had taken. – “You know, she should be paying for it.” – you turned to her, leaning against the wall.  – “I know…” – sighed you out, rubbing your forehead from exhaustion. 

Erica could be so tiring in this phase of her life. Robin returned to the back, showing the white board to Steve again. – “What did I do this time?” – questioned Steve, seeing her widen her eyes at him. She drew a line under ‘you suck’ again. – “That’s five Harrington!” – commented she. Steve shook his head confused, moving his hand when Robin stored the board away again. – “That one was for leaving Y/n to deal with Erica alone.” – was the only thing she said, moving to some boxes to cut open. Steve bit his underlip, slowly nodding. It was truly a dick move to leave you to your sisters scheming.

He pushed the swaying door open, standing still for a moment to observe you. You were helping a customer. It made him smile, giving recognition to his feelings for a brief moment. With a clearance of his throat, got he in motion again. He came standing beside you, nodding at the customer as a polite greeting. – “Sorry.” – confessed he after the customer had left. You hummed confused, quirking your eyebrow up. – “I should’ve handled Erica.” – mumbled he out, feeling a bit ashamed of himself. You laughed loud. – “That’s alright, my sister, my responsibility.” – joked you out, glancing brief over at her. She got up as you widened your eyes with a soft gasp. She left, leaving at least half of her requested ice cream. 

It made you curl your fingers into your palm, pressing them tightly. Stomping furiously over to her table, were you left to clean up her mess. She had even managed to spill on the table, leaving sticky stains on it. Sighing deep, returned you to the back with the half glass of ice cream. You presented it to Robin, hearing her scoff unbelievable. You went back with a wet cloth, cleaning the table. Steve was managing the counter, shaking his head at another upcoming crowd. – “No!” – said he, swaying his finger in front of him. – “You don’t even know what we are going to ask.” – answered Mike, pulling his shoulders up.

Steve tilted his head to the side, not buying it. – “Again?” – stated he, disappointed. Mike smiled sheepishly, Eleven hanging on his arm. – “Not this time! I’m not letting you through.” – made Steve clear, crossing his arms. – “Come on Steve! It’s the last time.” – begged Mike. – “It is always the last time with you guys.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Do your thing Lucas!”

Mike slapped Lucas against his chest. Lucas cleared his throat taking a step closer to the counter. Steve was leaning down on it, interested into what kind of stupid reaction they would come up with to make him bend the knee. – “Give us save passage.” – started Lucas, motioning to all his friends. Max nodded once, making Steve scrunch his nose at her attitude. – “Or I’ll simply tell my sister about your little crush on her.” – Steve gulped, quickly trying to hide it. He laughed loud to hide the fact he truly did liked you. – “I don’t like your sister.” – answered he, still laughing. Lucas looked at Mike and Will. 

Mike nodded while Will copied Mike after a second. – “Then you don’t mind me calling her over.” – Steve stopped laughing, seeing Lucas turn towards you, moving his hand to his mouth. – “Oh…” – started he, almost saying your name, only the begin letter escaping his mouth before his hand got yanked down. – “Alright! Just keep quiet.” – bit Steve at them. Lucas winked at Max. – “Works like a charm.” – teased Mike out. Steve sighed deep, allowing them to move through the back door. You returned to the counter where Steve was. – “Was that my brother?” – asked you. Steve nodded.

“Wrapped around their finger.” – said you, twirling your finger. – “Yeah.” – breathed Steve guiltily out. You laughed soft. It was truly astonishing how your siblings had such a grip on both of you. Steve pulled your swaying finger down, not needing to see the metaphor be visualized that he was under Lucas’s thumb. It caught you off guard, making you swallow nervously. Steve still had a hold of your finger, gazing intensely at you. Both of you leaned a bit closer, lost in each other’s eyes. 

For a moment thought you Steve was going to kiss you, but he didn’t. He cleared his throat, pulling himself back. Letting go of your hand, looked the both of you giddy and flustered away. – “I…I have to…” – stuttered you out, showing him the wet cloth. Steve hummed loud, looking around at anywhere but your beautiful eyes that made him swoon. – “I should…” – backing up, were you lost on words. – “You… you should.” – mumbled Steve back. – “I’ll stay… here…” – added he, placing both his hands on the counter. You nodded, almost bumping against the wall. With a sheepish grin, hurried you to the back. Waving yourself some cool, you thought you would faint there and then. What a grip he had on you.

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

Read more fics on my Masterlists!

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Mystery Writer (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer finds books at a second hand bookstore that are annotated and he falls the person writing the notes. 

AN: This was part of a fic swap on @imagining-in-the-margins​ server! This is for the marvellous @definitelynotkatesblog​ <3 I really hope you like it! I had to delete the original post because it didn't show up in the tags. This will be staying up regardless of that now.

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Your name: submit What is this?

“If you need anything, just let me know!”

Spencer pressed his lips together at the person behind the till before heading deeper into the rows of second-hand books. Familiar titles, old and new, printed on spines in various states of pristine/decay, they tempted him to select and bring them home with him. The clear sections between biographies and fiction guided him deeper into the forest, deeper into finding his way out. He was hoping to adopt one such book for a day off, when he could revisit it with a fresh eye. It would be like seeing an old friend again, remembering why they were friends in the first place with a hint of that initial read through from years ago, and perhaps he would learn something new in the process.

A dull ache in his chest at the sight of The Sign of Four by Arthur Conan Doyle. But he had long since recovered from that heartbreak and he would be able to read this story without feeling that again.

Still. It had been several years since he read this book.

His nervous fingers plucked it off the shelf and the pages fell open for him. A flattened gum wrapper parted the pages like the Red Sea. Spencer lifted it out tentatively. Its creases were ironed in from its role as a temporary bookmark, an impression of scribbled black ink flattened after it was made.

Spencer’s eyes scanned over the page in search of what this gum wrapper might have been guarding.

“Women are never to be entirely trusted – not the best of them.”

In the margins was scribbled:

Product of the time, but still a prick, rude smartarse role a bit dull

Spencer found himself exhaling in light laughter. That a lack of empathy was considered “dull” by this person, when it was something he dealt with in his job almost every day. The confidence in this commentary too, this brazen critique of a much beloved fictional character was left for someone else to find.

His gaze found Watson’s opinion of Holmes’ casual sexism: “atrocious sentiment”. It was circled twice in the same black biro.

Spencer dug his thumb against the text block and flicked through the book. A waft of that book smell lifted from the paper, accompanied by the bold notes of the previous owner dotted across the text until he finally landed on the reverse of the front cover. Two letters – initials - were scratched onto it.

It was with bridled exhilaration that Spencer approached the till and held up the book with a half-smile. His hands were quick to place it down on the counter so that the shop assistant could type the price into the till. His mood was apparently palpable because they seemed just as happy as Spencer to hand him back the novel in a brown paper bag – the receipt tucked inside.

 --->--->--->--->--->

 “Love is an emotional thing, and whatever emotional is opposed to what is true, cold reason, which I place above all things. I should never marry myself, lest I bias my judgement.”  

What a lonely existence and also a lie. See: entire relationship w/ Dr. Watson!

Spencer smiled at this comment. Now all the other instances of a double underlining made sense. Each one produced itself in his mind as evidence that Mr Sherlock Holmes did in fact love. Maybe not marry, but it would have been terribly unconventional for him to wed Doctor John Watson. The unknown author seemed to understand this. They never emphasised if this love was platonic or romantic. But the way in which they proved love existed within this character oft portrayed as emotionless, Spencer simply adored. They were a romantic reader, who still enjoyed reading about the cynic

He grew quite aware of his posture in that moment and he straightened his back. A few clicks of complaint emitted as he stretched, his head twisting from side to side. Screwing his eyes open and shut behind his glasses, he revisited your deduction.

On the dot of the “i” in “lie”, there was a sprinkle of graphite around the indent from where a pencil’s lead had snapped from the effort put into topping off this point. A sprinkle of graphite smudged where the pages pressed together.

Spencer moved on to where a sentence in black biro tried to blend in with the printed words. A memory appeared at the front of his mind: when Rossi was bewildered to learn Spencer and Dr. Alex Blake wrote the newspaper crossword in pen.

The pencil markings were like mini brainstorms, something to revisit and make a solid theory with the black biro. But the planning was never rubbed out.

Little quotes were circled. This mystery critic spent half the book roasting the characters and the other half leaving little exclamation marks and circles around phrases and words when they couldn’t think of something to say. Spencer found it sweet, picturing the thrilling unfolding of events for the reader to revisit.

His heart ached in bittersweet memory as he recalled the contents of Dr Alex Blake’s book The Route of Linguistics. It was necessary pain to create a profile of who this mystery critic was. Yes, he was profiling out of work hours. His evenings were now spent trying to picture the voice behind the notes. The sarcasm, the witty blows to the character’s and author’s ego. He almost wished that he couldn’t read so fast because he finished the book, even with its additional notations, all too quickly. But there was one bonus.

Spencer traced the pad of his fingertip over the exclamation marks describing Mary Morstan. What else might a detractor of the great Sherlock Holmes read?

--->--->--->--->---> 

He had returned to the bookshop in favour of adopting another. Yet he could not find one that satisfied his unknown criteria. It was not until he found himself checking the front pages of the fifth book he had selected, that he realised he was looking for a pair of initials.

Sighing, he placed My Dear Bessie, with its empty front page, back on the shelf. The chances of finding another book containing this mystery critic were so minute. He could probably calculate them if he wanted to dedicate himself to such a disheartening statistic. He’d rather not spend his lunch break doing that, as much as he loved statistics. This once, they did not assure his safety and he remained unsupported by the fact that he could not find any other Arthur Conan Doyle books.

His desperation became most apparent when he thought that perhaps fate should just decide for him. If anything, he would come away with a random book to read through in about ten minutes on a flight back home.

He peeked around the corner of the shelves. The shop assistant at the till was busy writing something down, not paying any mind to the shop’s only customer.

“A random shot had no better odds than just picking books off one by one” is what he told himself as he closed his eyes and placed his fingers on the end of the shelf, just over the first book’s spine. In an “S” pattern, his arm moved up and down, over the books and shelves and gaps between units. His feet stepped forwards into the space he knew was clear.

Spencer stopped and opened his eyes, his finger shifting just an inch out of the way of his new book’s title.

Circe. Madeline Miller.

He tapped the top and the book fell forwards, where he caught it. Its shining dust jacket was serving its purpose, a few tears along the edges from where it had protected the hardcover. He checked the front page. A map of Aiaia in orange and brown filled it to the corners. On the next page, his heart stuttered at the sight of two initials in the same handwriting and the same biro. There was also a scribble - invisible to start with then a ball of black.

The first page with the story’s text held a scribble just above its opening line:

the power of the name

“When I was born, the name for what I was did not exist.”

He could see that the first was in a blunt pencil, but the addition was a sharpened point carving into the paper. A secondary thought that was provided after completing the novel, they had added it. Spencer lifted it to his face, his eyes crossing to keep the stipple in focus. The scent of the paper and the graphite reached him easily; the note must have been made just before Circe was gifted to him. How lucky he was to find such a treasure.

The shop assistant was cutting out a new sign for “BUY ONE GET ONE HALF PRICE!”. By the time Spencer made it to them, the sign was placed upon the pile besides him. The shop assistant smoothed out a crease on the dust jacket, ineffectively but Spencer admitted the gesture. He was glad that someone who loved books as much as him got to work in a place like this.

--->--->--->--->--->

Spencer’s mind, definitely for worse, echoed the words off the tabloids around his head the split second he made eye contact with the headlines. He paced the shelves to somewhere a little quieter. When he found the chocolate aisle, he pretended to peruse. Ever half a minute or so, his gaze drifted up to the till area where the shop owner was on a phone call and clearly not paying attention to him.

It was not long before Spencer grew bored of looking at KitKats, and he pulled out One Thousand And One Nights. The book’s pages fell again to page 57. This shop’s receipt stood above them, still holding its place from the previous owner. It felt wrong to part the two.

No new people had entered this corner shop for 8 minutes. He’d even given the time at the receipt’s end a fifteen-minute margin either side. Given that this mystery critic took a break from work at the same time on the same day of the week – and that they worked during the day – he should have seen them. Maybe he had, and they were that man in the baggy hoodie who stunk of weed. Probably not. Hopefully not. Not that Spencer was judging him for his… recreational activities. He just wanted the mystery critic to be someone he could realistically spend time with.

Just then, Spencer’s phone trilled annoyingly loud. He received a glare from the shop manager and Spencer sent an awkward apologetic expression his way before answering JJ quickly.

“Spencer, we’ve got a case. We need you here ASAP.”

His response was immediate. “Ok, be there in ten.” Hanging up, Spencer dithered on the spot then grabbed a packet of Cheetos. He’d been there for nearly twenty minutes; he had to get something.

“Three dollars,” the manager said before returning to his call. But not before he rolled his eyes at Spencer. Spencer dropped the bills onto the counter and dashed out before he could be offered a receipt.

--->--->--->--->---> 

  An outlier in the usual length of case work had passed by in five long days. Spencer hardly ever regretted the time he put into this job. Every unsub caught was lives saved. But the absence of his mystery commentator had been niggling at the back of his busy mind and he was glad to finally reunite with them on this long flight back.

From his satchel, he recovered the copy of One Thousand And One Nights and began rereading the notes to ground himself in the story. His focus lingered on the page as if he were reading it at the average 250 words per minute. It allowed him to block out the humming of the engine.

Spencer did not take his eyes off the page as he pulled open his desk drawer and popped a piece of overpriced gum into his mouth. Half-hearted reminders bounced in his head, from when he tried smoking and chewing gum to ease his cravings. The fruit flavour was very clearly artificial and it faded within six minutes. Why his mystery critic would pick such a pathetic packet of gum to chew, he didn’t know. But hopefully the fact of its flavour disappearing fast would mean they get through the packet quicker and buy another soon. Even if today, and the days before, spent in that shop did not lean in favour of that hypothesis.

--->--->--->--->--->

The Five People You Meet In Heaven was in the Recently Donated pile. It was near the top, slid towards the edge of the container after being placed wonkily on a copy of some sports autobiography.

Within the pages was more than Spencer could have ever hoped for. Entire paragraphs were circled, quotes underlined. A squashed mini post-it note tabbed the page and a whole paragraph was scrawled on it, about Tala. An arrow pointing to the underside, Spencer lifted the flap and saw more to read, like an interactive pop-up book that he’d gotten Henry for his second birthday. Spencer closed his eyes quick and snapped the book shut. He wanted to save it for when he was sitting comfortably, not while he was rushing back to work in time for JJ to get to her lunch break on time.

The shop assistant had just clipped the lid back onto a green highlighter when Spencer drew up to their counter. With careful fingers, he placed the book upon it. There was a twitch of the assistant’s mouth; their eyes brightened. They looked like they wanted to say something, but something else held them back from making the first move. Spencer recognised it from his school days.

“It’s a good read.” He spoke after they had typed the price into the till.

“I know,” The assistant replied instantly, a relieved smile on their lips, “What part are you on?”

“I’ve already read it, but I wanted to revisit the passage at the diner.”

“Ahh, that’s a good bit. One of my favourites.”

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed a fraction of an inch. His gaze dropped to the nametag on the left side of their chest. Y/N, their name’s first initial. It couldn’t be.

“What did you think about the final person, Tala?”

“Oh,” The shop assistant clutched at their heart, “I was an emotional wreck before and it hit me hard just as the rest did. So bittersweet to hear her forgiveness. It took me a few times to finish reading the end, but it was all worth it.”

He couldn’t be this lucky, to get this many books from the same person and to have them standing in front of him. Spencer didn’t believe in luck.

As he reached across for his new book, he turned over the cover, “Was this yours?”

Twisting their head around to read the publication details, the assistant – Y/N - smiled sheepishly at the initials. “Yes, and I’m glad to see it go to a new home.”

Apparently luck believed in him.

“But,” Spencer felt his brows knit automatically as he looked between the book and their previous owner, “You love it. I-I’ve seen your notes.”

A hand clapped over Y/N’s mouth, “Oh God, you must have. I mean, it wasn’t the intention initially, but I thought they might be a little entertaining for anyone who picks it up to leave them in there.”

“Oh, they were! I’d love to read more of your thoughts. Hear, hear them, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Y/N checked the door to the shop, still shut, and back to Spencer. They dropped their elbows onto the countertop with their chin in their palms. “What did you wanna know?”

From his bag, Spencer procured his – their – copy of The Sign of Four and flicked through the pages. So many places to choose, but he wanted to open with what had introduced him to Y/N’s analysis.

The pair put their heads together, leaning on the counter. Spencer could smell the chewing gum on their breath. Y/N never cut him off, and he never wanted to cut them off. There were little pauses at the end of each of their turns to speak before the other picked up where they had left off. Their voices leapt from secretive whispers to passionate orations of their favourite passages, rebounding evidence and analysis off each other like a bouncy ball. Spencer finally had a voice to put to the sarcasm, the one his mind had conjured long forgotten in the wake of Y/N’s enthusiasm.

The shop’s door swung open. Spencer leapt to attention as an older woman swept in, past the two of them towards the non-fiction section. Y/N adjusted their name tag, their back straight too. The clock behind the till announced that it was now twenty minutes after the end of Spencer’s lunch break.

Running on the rush of his hobby meeting a potential friend, Spencer asked, “Can I get your number? So we can talk more, maybe swap some more books, when you’re not working?”

His luck was still by his side as Y/N wrote out their number on his receipt, written in their infamous black biro.

--->--->--->--->---> 

  Spencer leapt over to the door of his apartment, took a deep breath, and unlocked it. Stood behind where it had been was Y/N and they too were still wearing the uniform from work. Their nametag was still on their polo shirt, the same spot that Spencer wore his FBI tag.

“Can I get you a drink?” He asked the second they made a step inside his abode.

“Tea would be great. Milk and one sugar please.”

And while he was in the kitchen, Y/N rushed over to the bookshelves, their eyes wide to take in Spencer’s collection. “Oh wow! You weren’t joking!” Their finger indicated to a hard cover copy of Mean Time by Carol Ann Duffy, “That’s one of mine. Well, yours now.”

Plucking it from the shelf, they opened it up. Spencer had written his initials beside theirs.

Spencer stuck his head out in the partition, “Ours. If we’re going to be sharing.” Y/N stood on tiptoes, teeming with delight, their hands cradling the book with all the care Spencer could hope for in a fellow reader. Joint custody of their books and their passion? What a dream.

“I just have to write a little more about the epilogue, and I’ll be with you,” Y/N took their place on his couch. A pencil began scribbling away their thoughts onto the last few pages. Their knees were their desk.

Spencer finished brewing and placed the mug in front of Y/N, who mumbled a quick thank you to him. He joined them in writing his final notes. It slowed him down a considerable amount, but he was glad to take things at a casual pace, especially considering the way that Y/N almost broke their pencil as they scrawled out their thoughts for Spencer to hear later.

“Have you thought about the next one you’d like to try?” Spencer asked tentatively. He wasn’t so sure if Y/N would want to be interrupted.

Luckily for him, Y/N paused their stream of consciousness to look back at his books, “Hmm. So much to choose from.”

Stood up, their book left in Spencer’s care. They took a deep breath, closed their eyes and used their forefinger to draw a zigzag over the spines. Spencer felt that he was almost sick with joy.

Y/N stilled their wandering hand and opened their eyes, already drawing out the selected novel, “This one.”

“And what have you chosen for me next time?”

Y/N handed over The Butterfly Lion from their bag, “Ok, I can’t wait any longer, what do you think?”

They sat back on the couch. Their legs now hung over the arm of the couch, elbows either side and face cupped in their palms. The book rested in their lap. Shifting so that he faced them completely, Spencer returned to the first page and his analysis began.

[tsuki-here]

So I had a bunch of ideas for a possible Transformers Prime fanfic where Starscream, Soundwave, and Knockout switch sides because I just want them to be on the good side and maybe actually happy, but unfortunately I have way too many fics already and haven't touched them in forever, so here's just a bunch of bullet points of some of the ideas I had instead, in no particular order

Soundwave

-He's the only Decepticon that has no issue befriending the kids, likely since he respects all lifeforms ever since he developed close bonds with his minicons, which most Cybertronians discredit just because of their size.

- He bonds with Miko through music, Raf through computers and programming, and he just likes that Jack is quiet, easy company. He plays video games with all three of them on weekends

-Miko abuses Soundwave's massive databanks any time she has a research project or essay for school and convinces him to write her papers for her. Her teachers all know she didn't write them, considering he goes way overboard on the details, flowery language, and never makes anything less than 20 pages, but they also can never catch her on plagiarism, so she never gets in trouble and always gets 100% on the assignment

-He never fully forgives Wheeljack for planting a grenade in Lazerbeak

-He and Ratchet both insist on helping the kids with their science projects, though it's become more about trying to outdo each other than actually helping the kids. This always ends in something far too extravagant and teetering on the edge of deadly

-He doesn't break his vow of silence to Megatron for several months after joining, and even once he does, he still communicates through recordings and images on his visor more often than not. It's a mix of old habits, and he also just finds it more comfortable and familiar

-Miko introduces him to the social media side of the internet which he had always glossed over as unimportant before. Now he uses memes, terrible grammar, and text emojis as part of daily life. None of the other bots understand what hes trying to say half the time. Miko couldn't stop laughing off and on for about an hour the first time he displayed "uwu" on his visor. Jack nearly choked when Soundwave said in his deep voice, completely dead serious, "look at all them chickens". Jack didn't have the heart to tell him the were seagulls. Ratchet always catches him watching cat videos on the base's main computer. Miko is very proud to be the cause of these changes

-Soundwave and Ratchet end up arguing over use of the base's main computer fairly regularly. Of course, Ratchet feels it's still his responsibility and is still a bit wary of the ex-Decepticons for a while, and Soundwave is a busybody who constantly wants to be doing something. It's become an unofficial race to see who can open a ground bridge first whenever one's called for. Both are smug and rub it in the other's face when they do it first

-He doesn't trust Optimus for a long time and is upfront about the fact that he doesn't. No one's really sure when this fact changes, since he was always polite and courteous to him anyways, but Optimus eventually won over his loyalty

Lazerbeak

-Though he rarely interacts with any of the others himself, he's still forms bonds in his own way through Soundwave's interactions with them

-He's very fond of Raf, and even detaches from Soundwave to spend time with him every so often

-He holds a grudge against Wheeljack much like Soundwave does

-The Autobots still regularly forget to refer to him as his own being, often calling him an "it" or "a drone". Though he doesn't mind much, Soundwave gets overprotective on his behalf, as well as Raf after they become friends, and even Knockout stands up for him from time to time

Knockout

-He takes a little bit to warm up to the kids, but once he does, he often watches TV with them or takes them out to drive-in theaters

-Miko once spilled a slushie on his interior at a movie and he didn't speak to her for a week

-He and Ratchet rarely get along. He thinks ratchet's too bossy, and Ratchet says Knockout's too difficult

-He goes out racing with Bumblebee and Smokescreen at least once a month

-He never really learns to get along with Bulkhead

-He likes Optimus's take on leadership more than Megatron's; the Decepticon leader was always too strict and rude

-Knockout eventually finds he can confide in Arcee about the loss of Breakdown, which he still was internally struggling to cope with, and she slowly opens up to him about her own grief over Cliffjumper's death. No one else knows they're basically counseling each other

Starscream

-He takes by far the longest to adjust to the Autobots, but he starts to make more steady progress once it finally starts to set in that it isn't any sort of trap

-He never really befriends the kids, but he does learn to not treat them as inferior beings after enough warnings and corrections from the Autobots [namely Optimus and Bulkhead]

-At first he tries to suck up to Optimus much like he would to Megatron, partially out of hoping to gain his trust so that he could always turn on him if it became necessary and partially out of fear of being punished for not being respectful and submissive enough. Optimus remains patient and friendly, hoping to ease him out of his instincts of always being in survival mode

-Optimus constantly has to remind him that calling him "lord" is entirely unnecessary, and expresses concern any time Starscream flinches or jumps around him. Starscream starts to feel internally guilty about the obstacles Optimus goes through for his sake, not that he'd ever admit to it. This guilt fades as he becomes more at ease and breaks out of the old habits Megatron had instilled in him

-Though no one would have expected it, Arcee is actually one of the first Autobots to really start giving Starscream a chance at friendship, after Optimus and Bumblebee. It started off simply because Knockout claimed Starscream was technically his best friend within the Decepticons, and she wanted to try to be nicer for Knockout's sake. She hadn't expected that Starscream would actually be nice in return, and made for a witty, albeit sarcastic, friend. Starscream, Knockout, and Arcee often end up on missions together from that point on, as they actually work very well in a group

I'm sure I could keep adding to this forever if I kept thinking for long enough, but yeah- Maybe one day I'll write a Transformers fic, but life is far too busy at the moment, haha. I hope at least someone found this interesting, or inspiring for a story themselves! Maybe I'll make a part two or other similar posts in the future

[celtics534]

It Was Rare, I Was There Part II

I couldn’t wait for Sunday to come around! I’ve been impatiently waiting to post this chapter! I wanna thank everyone who read the first chapter and I hope this one is just as good!

Read on AO3 or FF.net

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ginny didn’t know what to say, how to comfort him. She couldn’t imagine all the thoughts going through Harry’s head at that moment. He hadn’t said a word since they arrived at the safehouse (an old flat near Waterloo station that Bill rented for cheap from an old schoolmate). The minute she had cleared the place, Harry had simply gone to the sofa and placed his head in his hands. That had been thirty minutes ago and he hadn’t moved. The only sign of life was the deep breaths that made his back rise. 

 They were waiting for word from Bill (who had taken over for James’ former security). It was still in the early stages of the investigation, but Bill believed James’ guard (who came from a different agency) had set up the ambush, or at least brought James to the determined spot where he was shot. Peter, the ex-warden, had left with the attackers. They had shot James  point-blank in the stomach. Bill hadn’t had more information about it when he’d called, but he was due to update as soon as they knew more.

 Ginny didn’t want to think about anything happening to the bright, witty man she’d had supper with just a mere three days ago. But Bill hadn’t sounded overly positive about James’ recovery. She tugged her mobile from her pocket for the sixth time since they arrived, willing it to ring or at least receive a text from her brother. 

 But of course, nothing happened, not even a simple notification for an app she never used. 

 “Is —” Harry’s gruff voice brought him to her attention. His face was pale, making his green eyes stand out more than usual. She could see his hands trembling in his lap as he stared at her. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Is he okay?” 

God, she couldn’t stand this. The pain and anxiety emanating from Harry hung in the air, thick and heavy. Without a second thought, Ginny moved forward and crouched in front of him. She took his trembling hands in hers and squeezed them tight. There were no words that she could say, they would all be unsubstantiated platitudes. She knew him well enough to understand that he didn’t want lies. Harry was a straightforward person and he respected the same. 

 Harry’s breath hitched as he looked at her, his lips pursed as he struggled to hold back the emotions clearly swirling inside him. Again without any conscious thought, Ginny pulled him to his feet and into her arms. His body was tense and hard at first, but after a moment, his shoulders fell and his arms wrapped so tightly around her she could barely breathe. Ginny rubbed his back, digging her palms in ever so slightly to try and massage his muscles into loosening. His breathing came in erratic sobs as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. 

 Ginny had no idea how long they stood in the stranger’s living room, holding each other. She would have been willing to stay forever if it brought Harry just a little comfort. 

 Finally, Harry was the one to pull back. His face was red but dry. “I’m —” He sounded as if he had a bad head cold. “I’m sorry.”

 She shook her head firmly. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

 “It’s just.” He swallowed hard enough to make his Adam’s apple bob, “it’s just… he’s my dad. If something happens to him...” Harry seemed to lose his voice, his mouth snapping close. 

 Ginny restarted her soothing back rub. “I know.”

 His breathing was shallow and warm on her skin as he tried to force the unwanted thoughts away. “Tell me something.” 

 That surprised her.  “What?”

 Harry’s gaze was imploring as he said, “I need a distraction. So please, tell me something. Anything.”

 Ginny tried to think of what to say, but the only thing that popped into her mind was a ridiculous story from her childhood. “I once got stuck on the roof of our family chicken coop.”

 He blinked at her, his gaze slightly glassy like it was taking an enormous effort to focus on her. “How did you manage that?” 

 She pulled back from him, taking his hands and walking him towards the sofa. Ginny kept her eyes on him, walking backward the few steps “Well, I’ve told you I had six brothers, yeah?”

 Harry nodded, as he took the cushion beside hers. “All older, right.”

 “Yup. As you can imagine, six boys loved playing little…  tricks on their only sister.” 

 They were sitting facing each other, their knees touching and hands still joined. Ginny ignored the way her hands seemed to fit perfectly in his. Now wasn’t the time for these pesky feelings. Harry let out a soft laugh. “I can imagine that.”

 “My twin brothers, Fred and George, set the whole thing up with Ron, the youngest boy. Around the coop, we had overgrown bushes and different old bits and bobs like old bicycles. So the boys thought it would be a great idea to hide out between the various obstructions and make scary noises. Now, at the ripe age of seven I still believed in the tooth fairy and Saint Nick, so monsters weren’t out of the question.”

 She went on to describe how her brothers had all jumped out at her making her so scared she’d somehow scaled the side of the coop to sit atop the roof. Harry didn’t smile until Ginny detailed her mother’s anger and punishment upon her brothers. He was clearly unable to forget his current family turmoil, and honestly, she couldn’t blame him. 

 Ginny started rubbing the back of his hands with her thumbs, hoping to bring a little comfort. He didn’t speak after her tale ended, and neither did she. Rather they just sat on the sofa. Their breathing was the only sound in the room beside the hum of the icebox in the attached kitchen. 

 She watched him. His eyes were stormy,  his breathing shallow. Ginny wished she knew what to do, how to comfort him. She thought about when she was younger and needed comfort, she went to her mum or dad. She remembered how they would hold her or have her lay down with her head on their lap. How they would brush her hair and just… be there for her. 

 Ginny squeezed Harry’s hand, hoping to give him a signal that she was there. That whatever he needed she would give.     

 Harry’s unfocused vision blinked into clarity. He stared at her, his chest heaving. His voice was hoarse when he spoke, “What if I lose him. I can’t —” He choked up and Ginny’s heart hurt for him. Without planning it, she tugged Harry to her. Ignoring his surprise, she pushed his body prone so his head lay on her lap. Her fingers thread through his hair, massaging his scalp with her short nails. He let out a satisfied groan and closed his eyes. 

 “Don’t think about it anymore,” Ginny suggested gently. His hair was incredibly soft. “Just try to relax. Try to sleep.”

 He swallowed hard enough that she heard it. When he spoke, his words were just over a whisper, the apprehension nearly overwhelming. “I don’t know if I can.”  

 She kept her fingers moving gently through his hair. “At least try. I’ll be right here and I’ll wake you as soon as I hear anything.”

 “I —” Harry let out a long, shaky breath through his mouth before nodding slowly. He opened his eyes to look up at her. “Thank you, Gin.”

 God, the way he said her name… it sent goosebumps across her body, but she forced herself to ignore the reaction her body had to him. They lay there, Harry’s breathing slowly becoming heavier as he fell asleep. Ginny continued to move her hands through his hair, her thoughts and emotions too jumbled to interpret. So instead she leaned back against the sofa and stared at the clock on the wall. Counting the seconds while waiting for Bill’s call.   

 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 Harry smiled as his dad retold the story of how he and Sirius ended up in an Irish prison. He'd heard the story at least twenty times, but hearing it right then was like the first time. Sure his father was tied to a hospital bed by wires and tubes, but he was there and alive. That's all that mattered. 

 Ginny had woken him at three in the morning to tell him his dad had gotten out of surgery and was suspected to make a full recovery. Harry had still been using her lap as a pillow, but at the news his father was alive he’d had hopped up. He’d hoped to head to the hospital, but Ginny had pulled him back to the sofa. Her orders were to keep him in the safe house until the car arrived at eight-ten in the morning. Harry of course had argued. He wasn’t proud of it but his voice had definitely raised and poor words were thrown around. Most people tended to cower when he built up steam, but not Ginny. She had gotten right in his face, her finger sharp on his chest. She didn’t hold back her barbed tongue either. In the end, there had been one thing she said that had broken through his fury.    

 “How do you think your parents will feel if you become your father’s roommate?” 

 It wasn’t until that moment Harry had understood the danger was actually real. When his mother had first told him he was getting a personal guard, Harry had been surprised. He couldn’t see anyone coming after him as leverage to get after his mother. But of course, he’d gone along with his mother’s request and in the end, he’d made a good mate with Ron. 

 But it wasn’t his mother being overprotective like he’d thought. The danger was real and they wanted to come for his family. Every fiber of Harry’s being wanted to go and search for that traitorous Peter and kill him for what he’d done to his father. But he couldn’t, not just because he didn’t know where to start looking, but also because he had a guard who wouldn’t let him go off and murder a man. 

 Harry took his eyes off his father to look at Ginny, who stood guard beside her brother by the door. Her focus roamed around the room, checking all entry points for the fifth time. Harry’s chest tightened as he looked at her. She was in charge of protecting him, and yet, Harry would rather be shot himself than to allow anyone to touch a single hair on her head.

 He knew it was wrong on so many levels. First, she was his protector, not the other way around. But also it was the simple fact he was feeling so strongly about her. Harry wasn’t always the best at understanding feelings, especially his own, but even he had figured out how strong he felt about his bodyguard. He fancied her…. He fancied her way more than he should. She was there to protect him not date him. But over the past month… they’d had moments that played on repeat in his head. Like when she’d teased him about drooling after taking a nap on the sofa. Or when they’d started throwing grapes at each other, trying to see who could catch more in their mouths. Ginny had claimed victory on that one. Then there had been the previous night. The way her fingers had moved through his hair. Her soothing voice and warmth. 

 God, he was head over arse for her. He couldn’t lie to himself.

 Ginny’s roaming eyes met his and the breath caught in his chest. She was truly gorgeous with those big brown eyes, freckles splattered across her cheeks, and that silky red hair. Harry clenched his hands into tight fists to resist the urge to reach out towards her. Every fiber of his being wanted to be near her, touch her, kiss her. She tilted her head slightly to the left, one eyebrow quirked in a silent question. She wanted to know if he was okay, which of course he wasn’t. He was dealing with an emotional upheaval between his father and his affinity for her. But he nodded quickly before tearing his eyes away from her, and back to his father. 

 Now wasn’t the time for these… desires. He was there for his family, not to pine over his guard. Letting out a long breath through his nose, Harry turned back at the end of his father’s tale. 

 “So when the garda let us go, I bowed and thanked them in my best Irish accent.” James chuckled. “I thought for sure they were going to throw me back in the nick.”

 Sirius, who was standing beside Harry barked out a loud laugh. “I would have let them too! You’ve deserved it.” 

 Lily shook her head from her spot on the side of James’ bed. Her right hand rested on his knee. She hadn’t stopped touching him since the moment she’d arrive, as if needing physical confirmation he was really there. “Sometimes I wonder how you’ve made it past forty.” 

 James reached out and took his wife’s hand, bring it up to his lips. “That would be your influence, my dear.”  

 Lily’s eyes softened as she squeezed James’ hand. “I guess it was a good thing that I finally let you wear me down and decided to date you all those years ago.”

 “It feels like only yesterday to me.” James’ stared up at his wife with a sappy smile that simultaneously pleased and disgusted Harry. It was great his parents were still in love after twenty-plus years, but he had no desire to see it.  

 Sirius groaned loudly. “God, they’re getting all sappy again!” He clapped Harry on the back. “How about we give them a moment? We’ll go get a cuppa down in the canteen.”

 Harry was all too happy to get away from the amorous display before him. He quickly came to his feet. Sirius waved at Bill. “Care to join us, Bill?”

 The Weasley siblings exchanged surprised looks but quickly accepted the unexpected split. Harry honestly was a bit bewildered himself. He would have thought Ginny would have stuck with him. Why Sirius had requested Bill… or at least he didn’t until Sirius started talking in the corridor. 

 “What’s going on with you and your guardian angel?” His voice was low and casual, but to Harry, it sounded louder than a freight horn. “The tension between the two of you could be cut with a knife.”

 “I — I — What?” Harry stammered, looking over his shoulder at Bill who maintained a three-meter distance behind them. 

 Sirius snorted, his hand coming to slap Harry’s back. “You two are so obvious that even a child could see it, so I bet Bill has too.”

 A blazing heat rose to Harry’s cheeks as he resisted the urge to turn down a side passage and just walk away. “I don’t think —” 

 “That’s your problem,” Sirius interrupted. “You think too much.”     

 “What are you talking about?”

 Sirius opened the canteen door, holding it for Harry to go first. “You always overthink things when it comes to women, Prongslet.” Harry stared blankly at his godfather. He didn’t even know what to say to his accusation, but Sirius didn’t seem to need his excuses to continue. “I mean look at that last bird, what was her name, Susan? What a train wreck that had been.” 

 Harry couldn’t contain his wince. That had been a bad situation. Having women tell you that they love you and responding with oh no never went well. 

 Sirius picked up two paper cups, bringing them to the drink dispenser. “Harry, tell me, do you fancy Ginny?” 

 “I — I mean —” He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long sigh. “I can’t help it. She’s —” The dictionary didn’t have the right word to describe just how amazing Ginny was. But again Sirius didn’t seem to need his words this time either. 

 “Then do something about it.” He took the two steaming cups from under the tap and plopped in two tea bags into each. Sealing them with black lids, Sirius handed one of the hot cups to Harry. His eyes were more serious than Harry was used to. “Listen, Harry, I’ve never seen you like this, not over a woman.” He steered them over to an empty table, sitting in one of the hard chairs. “You are clearly over your head with this and you need to do something about it.”

 Harry took the seat opposite his godfather, slumping a bit. “What do you suggest, Sirius?”

 “It’s simple.” Sirius took a sip from his cup. “Just show her how you feel.”  

 “Oh that’s it, huh?” Harry couldn’t hold back his scornful tone.

 Sirius ignored his satire, instead, he just nodded. “A blind man could see how mutual this thing between you is. So someone just needs to make the first move.” 

 Harry stared at his godfather incredulously. “You don’t think I’ve thought about that? Thought about just going up to her and kissing her?”

 “Well now, I figured your imagination would have taken you further than just kissing her but who am I to jud —”

 “Sirius!” Harry groaned. “You started this conversation, are you gonna take it seriously?”

 With an affronted hand over his heart, Sirius said. “I take everything seriously, I literally can’t help it.”

 “That’s it.” Harry stood. “I’m not talking to you about this I’m going back —”

 “Woah!” Sirius grabbed Harry’s wrist and pulled him back to the table. “Alright. Alright. I’ll stop. Just please tell me why you don’t think you two can be together.”

 Harry bit his bottom lip taking in his godfather’s genuine expression. Deciding to trust his sincerity, Harry sighed and reclaimed his chair. “There are moments where I think she might fancy me.”

 “Uh-huh. I’ve seen those moments myself.”

 “But then when she looks away she goes all… stoney.”

 Sirius’ brow furrowed. “Stoney? Stoney how?”

 Harry slumped back against his chair. “It’s like… it’s like she suddenly decides that being friendly with me is wrong and so she just —” His elbows came up to rest on the table as his head collapsed in his hands. 

 “Hmm.” Sirius rubbed at his chin as he thought. “So you think she has second thoughts?”

 “Yeah,” Harry’s voice was muffled by his hands so he turned his head to the side. “And I think it’s because she’s my guard.”

 Sirius nodded. “And she wants to stay professional. That makes sense.” 

 Harry didn’t dignify that will a full response, rather he just grunted and turned his face back into the darkness of his palms. 

 “It makes sense logically,” Sirius continued, “but romance isn’t logical, is it? 

 That pulled Harry’s attention. He lifted his head from his hands and stared at his smiling godfather. “What are you on about?” 

 Sirius took another sip from his drink, cradling the cup in his hands. “I think it’s simple. Prove to her logic isn’t always right.”

 Harry could only stare at the man across from him. “What — How — What does that even mean?”

 The smug smile that curled Sirius’ lips made Harry want to punch him. “It means, Prongslet, that you need to prove to her that her logic isn’t worth missing out on you.”

 “How would I even do that?” 

 Sirius reached across the table and patted his shoulder. “That’s for you to figure out. Maybe she just needs a heart-felt confession or maybe she wanted a hot snog session against a wall.”

 Harry could feel the heat climbing up from the back of his neck to his cheeks as he glanced over to make sure Bill was far enough away that he wouldn’t be hearing any of this. “What makes you think —”

 “Because, my favorite godson, I haven’t seen so much pining since your parents during their A levels, and look how they turned out? All it took was a little push from your mother to get the ball rolling.”

 “My mother?”

 “Yeah!” Sirius barked out a laugh. “Your mother was quite the feisty woman. She was fed up with the heated looks so when James was searching for a book in a private corner of the library, Lily cornered him and well the rest is history.” 

 “But I thought Dad wooed Mum?”

 “Ah, that was after Lily made the first move. See James had tried to move on her for years but as he’s told you before, he was a bit of a prat when he was young. So Lily wasn’t interested until he matured. So once he’d gotten his head on straight and stop being such a prat James wanted to try and ask her out again, but because she’d refused him so many times James was being patient before stepping up again. Lil’s had seen the change and started to fancy him the more she got to know the real him.” Sirius leaned forward on his elbows. “I’m going to guess the same has happened for Miss Weasley?”

 Harry shrugged. “I mean at first she seemed a bit wary of me but as she got to know me —” His voice trailed off as he imagined that blazing look Ginny had sent his way while at his parents Sunday roast.  There had been so much to that look, the way it had melted him from the inside out and made him nearly reach out to kiss her. 

 Sirius reached out and clapped him on the shoulder. The smug grin firmly back in place. "So, care to talk about what your move is gonna be? I really think the wall snog is a good option."

 Rolling his eyes Harry rose from his chair. "I don't know what I'm going to do but I do know I won't be telling you." 

 "What!" Sirius looked aghast quicking getting up to follow Harry who was heading back to his father's room. "Why would you forsake me? I thought you loved me." 

 "I do but I’ve seen how you act with women… you’re way too much of a dog for me. Not to mention a horrible gossip. "

 "Hey now! At least I have all my shots." 

 Harry’s laugh was loud in the silent hospital hall as they made their way back to their family… and back to Ginny.

 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 Ginny let out a deep sigh as another irate driver honked their horn outside on the street. Harry’s flat wasn’t on an overly busy street but it did seem to attract the most irrational drivers. She pulled the curtain an inch to the left to see what chaos happened below them. 

 “I bet someone jumped out at the intersection,” Harry’s voice started Ginny. She fell away from the window and turned to face him. It was sometime around two in the morning and he looked more exhausted than he had when he’d headed off to his room four hours beforehand. She knew he wasn’t sleeping well since his father had been shot four days ago. Ginny had hoped seeing James awake and alive would have helped Harry’s restlessness, but that hadn’t been the case. 

 Harry moved to stand beside her in the corner of the room, his body so close to her that she could feel his heat as he peered around the curtain himself. “Such a bad intersection. It’s completely blind on the left. I’ve nearly been hit myself a few times around there.” He stepped back, letting the curtain swing back into place. His alluring eyes came to rest on her. “How are you?”  

 Ginny was taken aback. She blinked at him. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

 He shrugged. “You’re free to ask.”

 This was a different Harry than she’d seen. He was so… aloof and distant. She didn’t like it at all. Without thinking about it, Ginny took his hand and squeezed. “How are you doing?”

 “Would you believe me if I said fine?”

 Ginny’s lips curled into a soft smile. “Not for one second.” 

 “Good to know you can spot a liar.” 

 She laughed, the sound loud in the still early morning. “Well, it’s kind of important for my job. And growing up with so many siblings I’ve dealt with my fair share of bullshite so I have a detector for this kind of thing.”

 Harry dropped her gaze, focusing on their joined hands. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head, but when he spoke she was surprised by his question. “What else did growing up with siblings teach you? Anything for dealing with stress?”

 “Uh, I mean six brothers means my stress level is always through the roof, but —” She paused, thinking back on nights in the sitting room with her brothers, waiting for updates and news about injured or sick relatives. “But my twin brothers, Fred and George, use to set up little dance parties for us.”

 Harry met her gaze, one black brow quirked. “Dance parties?”

 Ginny nodded, her lips curling in a soft smile remembering the way she and her brothers would jump around. “Yeah. We’d put it on a local station and just… forget for those three minutes while we danced to a dumb and typically meaningless song.” 

 She looked around the safehouse. There wasn’t much room, with the kitchen and sitting room combined in the small space, but if they pushed the sofa against the back wall… Making the decision, Ginny pointed to the sofa. “Harry, move that out of the way, and the coffee table too.”

 To his credit, Harry only hesitated for a moment before following her orders. He cleared the middle of the sitting room while Ginny went over to her bag (that carried all her clothing, toiletries, and essentials for on the job) and pulled out a wireless speaker. She quickly reconnected her phone to the device and had a classic nineties dance tune filling the room within seconds. Mindful of neighbors Ginny kept the volume low but still loud enough the music thrummed over any noise that might come from the street. 

 Harry quirked a brow at her as he took in her music choice. Ginny merely shrugged. “Who doesn’t like some Britney at two in the morning?”

 “No one comes to mind.” His lips curled in a mischievous grin. “Especially Sirius, he actually went to one of her shows.”

 Ginny’s jaw dropped in elated shock. “No?! Really?!”

 Harry nodded. “Still has the shirt to prove it. Says she kissed his cheek and everything.”

 “I bet he was the kind of fan that didn’t wash the spot for a month.” 

 “My mum says it was at least two.” 

 Ginny laughed. “Well, don’t just stand there forsaking your godfather.” She started moving her shoulders and hips in beat with the music. “Dance, Potter.” 

 Harry snorted. “Why is everyone saying that this week?” 

 He started to bob his head in time with the bass, but that wasn’t good enough for Ginny. She grabbed his hands, pulling him into the center of the carpet floor. She started pushing and pulling his arms to the beat, making him dance with her. 

 His movement was stiff at first but as Ginny made him twirl under her arm (which required him to duck) he started to loosen up. It flowed from one song to the next, the two of them changing their moves to match the new melody. Ginny laughed loudly when Harry tried to pull off the sprinkler. 

 They joked and laughed as the random playlist continued to play. Between Harry’s classic dance moves and Ginny’s rather intense lip sing performances (her personal favorite was Sexyback) the two of them completely lost track of time.

 It wasn’t until Ginny’s mouth started feeling dry that she looked up at the clock hanging over the kitchen sink. Three-twenty. They had been going for over an hour. Stopping halfway through the base-filled bop, Ginny pointed to the kitchen. “I’m going to get a drink.” 

 She easily opened the icebox, leaning in to pull out a bottle of water. A container of Chinese noodles was calling her name when everything changed. Ginny heard the music shift to a slow and sweet ballad only seconds before Harry’s hands were at her waist. He spun her so she faced him and his left hand took the water bottle from her and placed it on the counter. Then he linked their fingers and rested one hand on her hip. 

 He didn’t speak as he started to sway their bodies to the rhythm, his chest pressed to hers. The pale light from the icebox surrounded them as they moved. Ginny had started to protest, planning to remind him of her dry throat, but the words disappeared into the air as she met his gaze. The way he was looking at her… it sent goosebumps all across her body. Heat. it also set her skin ablaze in the best way. 

 When his lips fell onto hers, it was sweet relief and release. After so long of wondering what his lips would feel like… God, it was better than anything her imagination had cooked up. The hand on her hip slowly moved upwards, along her side, grazing her cheek, and into her hair. Ginny moaned at the feeling of his fingers kneading her scalp. 

 Then sudden awareness struck her and she pushed him back. His fingers pulled at her hair, but she easily ignored the pain as her brain kept screaming at her for being so foolish. She couldn’t kiss him! Couldn’t get involved with him! She was there to protect him. Nothing else!

 Harry didn’t retreat far, still easily within touching distance. His chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. “Ginny.” 

 His voice was hoarse and incredibly sexy as he looked at her with that heated look. Swollen lips and tinged cheeks made her heart thud painfully against her chest. Fuck, Ginny was done. She couldn’t stop it anymore. It was just too much, there was too much attraction between them for her to deny it anymore. That kiss had locked her in. Before she could think about it anymore, her fingers were bunched in the front of his shirt and his body and lips were pressed against her.   

[bebepac]

The Double Date Mistake?

I am participating in @wackydrabbles​ prompt # 92 “I don’t think that was meant to go there.” will appear in bold.

This is also chapter 2 of The Meet:  To catch up on what you’ve been missing of the Meet so far Please click:  The Meet Masterlist

Original Post Date: 05/01/2021 at 3:15PM

The Book:  TRR

The Pairing:  Liam x F!OC (Liam x Jilian) 

Word Count: 1948

Summary: Jilian goes on a double date with Bebe and meets Leo for the very first time.  Jilian and Bebe share how they first met each other to the guys.  

Warnings: Sexual innuendos.  Profanity.  

Leo and Liam belong to pixelberry, Jilian belongs to @queenjilian borrowed for the duration of this series. All others are my own to help us tell the story.  

“And done. He has your number now Jili. Now fly my little birdies fly.”  

She thought he would text right away but he didn’t.  The whole way to Bebe’s apartment the twenty minute drive Jili’s phone was silent.

Bebe looked at Jili as she glanced at her phone.  What the actual hell?

She texted Jilian.

“Bebe why the hell are you texting me? I’m sitting right next to you?”

“I was just making sure your phone was on.”  

“I mean he’s still working Bebe.  He can’t just drop everything and just start texting away.”

“The hell he can’t. What in the actual fuck is wrong with you bruh?” Bebe grumbled as she angrily typed on her phone.

“Wing Woman are you trying to crash this plane?”

“The mother  hasn’t even taken off yet with you two trying to pilot it. I’m gonna need you to get your life together Jili.”  

The driver pulled to a stop. “Damn I really wanted to see how this turned out.”

Bebe got out of the car in a huff.

“I’ll let you know.”   Jili called out the window to her.

Jilian wasn’t going to let it stress her out.  He was still at work. She knew her job got busy at times, and she couldn’t just sit on her phone and do nothing.  As she was walking up the stairs to scan her door key fob, the phone rang.

It was a local number she didn’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“Jilian. It’s Liam.”

“Hi Liam.”

“I apologize for not texting or calling sooner.  Things got busy at work.”

“Oh I figured that was what happened.”  

"Bebe is something else. I feel a little attacked. I can tell it's from a place of love though."

"She's my best friend Liam. My true sister from another mister."

"So it's safe to assume you are single?" Liam inquired.

"I am, and for you the same?"

"Yes Jilian I am. Is it forward of me to say maybe we can change that for each other. I would really like to see you again. I'm off next Friday would you be free then?"

Jilian sighed.

"Friday is my date night."

"Oh. I just assumed you being single you weren’t seeing anybody even casually."

"With Bebe. We restaurant hop. We're self proclaimed foodies. 

Do you have any friends maybe we could double?”

“My brother, both him and Bebe have big personalities, I think they’d really get along.  Think she would be okay with that?”

“Yeah I think I could convince her.”  

They continued to talk, and about everything under the sun.  Liam was funny and witty and kept her attention.

She began to realize how much she had in common with the charming Liam Rys.  

She had cuddled into her bed under her covers laughing and chatting with him.  She finally rolled over realizing it was almost dawn.

“Oh my God! Is that the sun?!?!?!” she shrieked, surprised into the phone.

“I’m so sorry Jilian I completely lost track of time.”

“I have to go, I have to be at work in forty five minutes!!!”

Jilian said her goodbyes to Liam and hurried to work.  

Right when Jilian was sitting in her office reading over her chart  for her first patient’s checkup, there was a delivery.  

A large coffee drink had been delivered to her with a sweet gooey cinnamon bun.

“Gift for you Jilian Winchester.”  

Liam was really sweet.

She texted him thank you.

He had let her know he had an extra espresso shot added to her coffee.

Liam was a lifesaver.  

*^*^*^*^* The Double Date *^**^*^*^*

When Jili and Bebe got to the restaurant  Liam and Leo were already seated at the table both stood to greet them.  

Liam softly kissed  Jili’s cheek.  

Bebe glanced at Leo.  He was cute, but he was probably about five inches shorter than Bebe, not to mention Bebe was wearing heels making her tower over Leo.

Liam changed the subject breaking the ice between everyone, and the conversation between the couples started flowing.  

Jilian slipped in the subject of Liam and Leo honestly not looking much like each other.  

“We’re half brothers, we have different mothers. But don’t get it twisted Bebe.  I can scale you like Mount Everest. Taller women don’t intimidate me one bit.”

“Um….thank you for that blatant honesty…. Jili will you accompany me to the restroom please?”  

“Excuse us for a moment.”  Jili smiled politely.  

“Absolutely not Jili!!!!!”  Bebe was adamant when the door to the bathroom closed.  

“Bebe I didn’t know!  I swear when he said older brother, I was thinking he looked like him.  You would think older brothers are taller, bigger, and wiser. He is funny though.  You two do have similar personalities. Maybe try to focus on that Bee.  Let’s just try to have a fun time.  You don’t have to see Leo again.  But I know I want to see Liam again. I like him.”  

“You owe me big for this!!!”

Both women come back to the table.  Their drink orders had arrived.  Bebe takes a long sip on her drink.  

“That’s what I’m talking about!”  Leo smiled.  “A girl after my own heart.”  

“How did you and Bebe meet Jilian?”  

“We actually met in NOLA. We were both presenting at a medical conference.  Bebe for the Pharma side, because she’s a pharmacist,  and me for medical for being a nurse practitioner focused in the at risk population.”

Leo eyes flit to Bebe.

“So you’re a drug dealer?”  

Bebe smiled.  “ Legal Drug Dealer. Yep, that’s what I call myself. I’m slinging pills to pay the bills.”  

“I can dig it.”  

“We met the night before our conference began, in a bar.”  

When Jilian walked into the bar she noticed her right away.  There was a woman at the bar,  drinking her drink telling what appeared to be a funny story that had multiple people’s attention.  All were laughing with her.   She had to be a local. Jili thought.  

She had strings of beads around her neck.  

“What can I get ya?”  the bartender asked.  

She looked at Bebe.  “I want whatever she’s having.”  Bebe was the life of the party.  

“Well I did a little pre-gaming at the drive through daiquiri shop though. 

But mostly Hurricanes.  Get her a Hurricane Sal.”  

The bartender winked at Bebe.  

“Don’t skimp on the good stuff either!”  She yelled out.

Jilian’s eyes widened when the bartender  brought her the drink.

Bebe held up her glass to clink with Jilian’s glass.

“Laissez le bon temps rouler!!!!!”   The crowd screamed in agreement at Bebe’s declaration.

“What?”  

“LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL!!!!!”  

Jilian took a long drink of the cocktail.  No wonder.  

“Yep! You like it.  I’m Bebe, what’s your name?”

“Jilian.”  

“I’m gonna call you Jili.  What brings you to NOLA?”  

“Work, a conference.”  

“Bleh you said the “W.” word.  That’s not existing in my life right now.  We’re here, we’re alive, no regrets Jili.  Let your hair down and enjoy yourself.  I mean literally.  That bun is a buzz kill.”  

Jili pulled the pins out of her hair shaking out her locks.  

“So much better!!!! You’re a babe!!!  See they’re already looking at you differently.  We’re not interested though.  Unless they’re buying more drinks.”  

Jili glanced at the guys that were now looking in her direction.  

“You’ve got a lot of bead necklaces going on.”   Jili commented.  

“There are two ways to get beads in NOLA.  Buy them or earn them.”

Jili looked at Bebe and raised her eyebrow with a smile.

“Let me guess, your ass hasn’t spent a dime tonight.”  

Bebe took a long sip of her hurricane.  

“Nope.  Not a single dime.  Including alcohol.  I'll tell you what Jili.  Life’s too short.  I’m not going to regret any of my choices.  I spent a year in Costa Rica, living my life Pura Vida.”

“Pure Life.”  Jilian smiled.  Bebe was a carefree spirit, and people gravitated to her.

“We’re only here for a blink Jili.  How do you want your story to be told?”

She decided to throw caution to the wind and party the night away with Bebe.

Jilian’s alarm went off the next morning.  She was incredibly hung over as she tried to pull herself together.  

She had a random memory of her and Bebe walking down  Bourbon Street singing “Lean on Me”  while they were linked arm and arm.  The drunk leading the more drunk back to the hotel.

She smiled, straightening her black business suit.  She was about to pull her hair up into her signature bun but decided to let her tresses fall free instead.  

As she was getting checked into the convention she slipped her ID badge and program of speakers, herself among the list.  

She heard her laugh.  Jili whipped her head around and saw Bebe at the back of the line with two others.  Bebe was wearing a bright pink business suit, and her shoes and clutch had the print of medications on it.  

“The legal drug dealers have arrived!!!! Big Pharma in da house!!!!!!”  

Jili laughed, shaking her head.  

“That’s how we met Liam.”  

“We found out later we lived near each other, and made plans to meet up.  Been friends ever since.  That was like six years ago.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask us how we met.”  Leo asked.

“I assume you are brothers…. You met… at birth?”

Bebe shook her head at Leo.

Everyone was calm after not to mention the alcohol free flowing.  They headed to  a lounge after dinner, called Blue Notes.  The music there was full of soul and blues.  

The drinks continued. The music there stirred the soul.  

“May I have this dance?”  Jili nodded, taking Liam’s hand.   He held her close.  

Leo eyed Bebe.   “You know, I have always been one to have a huge case of FOMO.  So you and me let’s hit the dance floor too.”  

Bebe downed her drink in one swallow.  “Why the hell not.”  

They walked out to the dance floor.  With Bebe’s high heels Leo was chest level to her.  He pulled her close resting his head on her bosom.

“Um….so we’re doing this… okay…”  Bebe looked surprised but she was smiling.

Liam laughed softly when he glanced in their direction.

“I don’t think that was meant to go there.”  

“The height difference honestly never crossed my mind Jilian.  Things seemed really awkward for them for a bit, for more so Bebe.  Not so awkward now.”  

Bebe and Leo were looking at each other laughing.

“You know this is never going to happen Leo Rys.”  

“A man can dream.  Well….It could happen for the night.  I can tell you’re curious. Let me tickle your fancy tonight.”

Bebe laughed harder at him.  “You don’t give up do you Leo?”

“Nope because I get what I want.”    

“If nothing else Jilian, I think they will at least be friends from this, if nothing romantic happens.”

The next morning Liam was cooking  breakfast when Bebe walked out of Leo’s room. Leo’s sweatpants looked like capris on Bebe.  

“Good Morning Bebe. Would you like some breakfast?”  

“Sure.”

Leo walked out of the room a few minutes later.  

Liam smiled looking at the two of them.  

“Breakfast Leo?”  

“I already ate.”  Leo winked at Bebe.

Bebe choked on her orange juice.  

“Oh you were talking about bacon and eggs, sure.”  

Nope not at all awkward at all.  Liam thought as he fixed plates for himself Leo and Bebe.

Bebe was climbing in her ride share when her phone rang.

“Bebe… Liam just told me you had breakfast with him and Leo… at his apartment.  You spent the night with Leo?”  

“Leo was right, Jili.  Not all of him is fun sized.”

Tags in the comments !!!! 

[wandsandwheezes]

Till You Make It | F.W | CH5

Fake It | The Masterlist

Warnings // SMUT 18+, Hufflepuff!Reader, implied sex, teasing, lingerie, relationship, consent, sexting??

a/n // So im posting this one a day early as there is a chapter 5.5 coming out tomorrow which is pretty much just pure smut <3 once again i have to thank @starlightweasley​ my partner in crime for being my muse while writing this!!

When Fred left that evening after dinner, the under-the-table events still plagued your mind as you threw your head back against your pillow out of desperation. Fred made it very hard for you to concentrate on anything other than him or the feel of his fingers. Substituting his hands for your own didn’t help either, you fell asleep with your lips parted in half pleasure and half agony from missing the man who had been plaguing your thoughts. Chest heaving, shivers running down your spine and fingertips moving only left you breathless for him. You thought that maybe that desperate feeling would leave you when you woke the next morning, to be left in the night but as you walked to a day of appointments, your mind was truly somewhere else, somewhere with him. Each fleeting thought as you hem a skirt or completed your seams only brought you to feel his hot breath fanning against your skin or his stupidly delicate touch, having to take a deep breath just to pull you back to the reality that he wasn’t right there, he was across the street no doubt laughing and joking away like the memory of last night wasn’t plaguing his every thought. 

You were far from the truth. He wanted to storm into your shop like the first time he kissed you, hearing only your choked back moans like a sweet symphony in his brain. George tried to get his attention, only holding it for a few moments before he was distracted again. Fred was meant to be stacking shelves, but the sight of a current Gryffindor quidditch player donning their sweater made all of his thoughts of you race back. 

<< Morning, doll x

>> Fred Weasley I hate you.

<< No kisses? What have i done :(( x 

>> You left me frustrated you absolute git

<< There’s no reason to call me that, petal x

<< I could’ve left you much worse off x

He watched as the typing bubble flashed up on the screen before disappearing a few times. Smirking to himself as he locked his phone, pushing it into his pocket knowing full well what he’d done. You were sighing to yourself as you sipped on the now lukewarm coffee, tapping out the perfect message to retort back at him, but nothing seemed to fit, no matter what you say he would have the perfect witty response to chime back. It hit you, if he wanted to play games you would play along.

>> Wanna see the set I’m working on Freddie? x 

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, as he pushed a box of spare products onto the shelf in the stockroom. He checked the message only to feel his heartbeat about to burst out of his chest as it raced that bit quicker. He was alone but the thought of anyone just walking in or catching a glimpse of the picture on his phone drove his feet to his office as he tapped out his message to you. 

<< I’d love that xx

You smiled to yourself as you laid out the garment on the table for him, making sure that it was smoothed out to perfection before snapping the perfectly innocent picture to send to him. You knew that he was expecting more skin, a lot more skin in fact. In his head he was about to receive a tempting photo of his girl, for his eyes only. 

>> (1)  Attachment.

He tapped open the picture with shaky fingers, unaware of what to expect when the image flashed up on his screen, eyes gazing over the lacy fabric not on your body but on the worktop. Tease. He quickly realised what you were doing, huffing to himself as he let his head fall back against the headrest of his arm chair. If you kept up this teasing to and fro you’d drive each other mad by the end of the night.

<< Why don’t you put it on for me, petal? xx

Two hours had ticked by since his last text to you. He found himself checking every notification, praying it was you, even considering sending another message but he stopped himself. He tried as best he could to focus on his work; taking stock, doing orders and serving customers.  Another hour had passed and still no response. He couldn’t ignore the friction in his boxers at the mere thought of you, mind running wild once again, his thoughts alone pulled him through to lunchtime when he could finally see you. 

The way he stormed into the shop, seeking you out in the back room, eyes dark with hunger as he stared you down made your heart flutter. His brow was furrowed and he looked like a man who was starved. You liked the effect that your little charade seemed to have on him, biting the inside of your lip to stop you from smiling. 

“I don't find your little game funny, love." You simply cocked an eyebrow up at him before continuing with your sewing, the whirring of your machine filling the thick sexual tension in the air. There was an undeniable chemistry between you both, that was visible from the way you latched onto each other so quickly. You loved to see this side of him, less dominant but yet so desperate and needy.

“Uh huh,” you hummed nonchalantly as you pulled the material in the right direction, sending the machine whirring once more. Giving him the silent treatment was enough to send him wild. The sound of your machine muffled his steps as he drew closer to you, gentle touches over your exposed shoulder sending shivers along your skin. Your body wanted to give into him, let him have you right across your desk right here and now but the game was all too fun. 

“The silent treatment, really doll?” You looked up at him with a smile as he uttered those words, your hand moving to hold his, pulling yourself up from the chair to fall into his hold, staring up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. You pushed yourself up onto your toes to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, breathing in the calming scent of his cologne and you did so. 

“Didn’t you like the lingerie, Freddie?” you asked him innocently as you bat your eyelashes, he leaned in to try and kiss you properly but you quickly pressed a finger to his lips, pushing him away cheekily as you giggled.  

“Buy me dinner first at least.” 

And he did, he bought you several dinners in fact. You made sure to dress up nice for him, let him get hot and needy before making him wait. It had now been a month of torture for the poor boy, letting him get by on no more than kisses and a few lingering touches. You wanted him to feel that same way you felt after the night at Lee’s. You swore he would’ve stopped you by now, out of pure frustration but he continued enduring his own torture just as much as you continued dishing it out.

Being invited to watch the Star Seeker’s last game of the season and coincidentally the last game before her wedding, filled you with pure joy. You invited Fred, not that he needed inviting telling him that it would be a nice date, to which the smitten boy agreed. You held hands in the stands as you both cheered alongside George, who was beaming with pride, listening to Lee commentating the game over the arena speakers.

“You know Freddie, this reminds me a lot of our Hogwarts days... I miss being up in the commentators box, it had a much better view, though for what I was looking at, I think I’m in the best seats now.” You leaned up to press a kiss to his ear as you spoke, causing him to chuckle as you moved to press your lips to his, only to be met by his finger against your lips as he mimicked how you had treated him in your shop all those weeks ago.  

“Just one kiss?” You pouted at him as he pulled you into a kiss, your heart leaping. Here Fred was, kissing you in front of everyone; his friends, family, press and every soul in the stadium but he didn’t care. The whole world could watch but he could only ever focus on you. 

It had been a week now since that event, Fred was still on edge with all of the teasing, he had grown to expect It now, waking up to a cheeky message or a voicemail, That was if he wasn’t waking up to your arms wrapped around him. He was smitten by this point, absolutely enamoured by your very presence, he would do anything to make you smile.

“Joining Lee and I tonight, Freddie?” George asked with a small knock to his brother’s office door. He pondered on it before it struck him. If Lee was out, you were all alone, the thought made his heart skip a beat. The days you’d both stopped yourselves, making out like teenagers on the bed before realising your best friend was only in the other room always seemed to kill the mood. 

“You know what, I don’t think I should be mixing with alcohol… A month sober and all.” Fred pled a fair case to his brother, a feasible enough excuse over the want to have a night with his girl. Even that sounded nice in his head, you being his girl. George nodded, suggesting a dinner instead, to which Fred shook his head again with a small laugh. 

“For the love of god, go out, get smashed and please get Lee laid… he’s driving me mental.” George nodded, laugh falling from his lips as his hand reached out to pull the door closed behind him as he went to leave, mumbling a small ‘noted’ and gesturing a salute from behind the glass.

As the evening fell, the rain came with it - a light dreary drizzle and not heavy downpours but still rain nevertheless. You managed to beat the raindrops before they fell, returning to what you called home to strip off the day’s work clothes. Between appointments you’d finally managed to finish and perfect the gorgeous red set that you had started working on all those months ago, discarded on your dressing table as you pulled on a fresh pair of joggers and Fred’s sweater which he had let you keep in all this time, grateful for the company of his scent as you realised this may be the first time you had been alone in the night since you’d left Joe. 

A knock at the front door made your heart pound out of your chest. Half of you wanted to ignore it but the curious half wanted to see who it was. Peeping through the looking glass to be met with the messy ginger locks you loved so much prompted you to pretty much swing the door open and jump into the unsuspecting boy’s arms, your legs wrapping around his torso. 

"Hi handsome, thought you were going out with George and Lee?" You peppered kisses all over his face as you held his face in your hands, fingers splayed against his cold skin yet his actions were more than inviting. You soon found your back pressed against the wall, soft quick kisses soon replaced with deep, passionate ones, lips locked together as if your lives depended on it. His foot kicked the door closed his hands keeping your thighs in place as he asserted his dominance over you. 

"I wanted you. Fuck, I've wanted you for weeks now, doll." You moaned and hummed against his lips with every kiss. It was electric the way his fingers touched you, everything from the cool sensation of the wall against your back to the heat of his shallow breaths fanning against your neck. You were nervous, wanting nothing but absolute perfection with the angel you cared so deeply about. 

Fred really was an angel to you, he helped you feel like a person again. 

“Please say something,” Fred whispered, forehead now pressed against your own. You hadn’t realised just how deep in thought you were until he spoke again, you could have swore you heard his voice crack ever so slightly as he uttered those words of vulnerability. You nudge your nose against his with a smile that leaves a reassured sigh escaping his lips just before you move once more, pulling him into another kiss, immediately feeling him relax as he closes the space between the both of you, effectively trapping you against the wall. 

“Isn’t it obvious that I want you too, Fred?” He chuckled, holding your weight in his arms as he carried you through the halls to your bedroom. He pretended to drop you twice, both times you hit him on his chest, laughing together in the most gorgeous way, creating a harmony of giggles. Each time he feigned your fall from his arms, droplets of rain fell from his soaking hair onto your face. 

“Oh yeah? Obvious is it?” His large hands gave your ass a playful squeeze before placing you on the bed. You leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, pushing his wet hair back and out of his face. You caught how his eyes stared so lovingly at you, feeling butterflies in your stomach as he gave you his signature toothy grin. You stand from the bed, grabbing a towel that was hooked over the door to dry his gorgeous ginger locks. 

"Sit down, let's get you dried." He blushed as he sat down on your mattress, tilting his head up towards you ever so slightly as you find your place between his legs while his hands rested gently on the backs of your thighs and you swore to yourself that you had never felt such fireworks linger upon your skin as they did with Fred Weasley. Those hands you had admired for so long, those hands that gripped onto his bat tightly during your school years and hit away bludgers and all had you swooning as you gripped the towel. You draped the towel over his head, giving his hair a rough towel dry and letting your fingertips press against his scalp gently through the soft fabric. When you left him to go and hang the slightly damp towel up once more, his gaze caught a glimpse of something bright in the corner of his eye. Upon further inspection from afar, that something bright was a beautiful red lace that had been thrown on your dressing table in a moment of relief after you had finished it. He stood, making his way to them out of curiosity, his fingers taking hold of the soft lace, immediately recognising the feel and the pattern. His breath hitched, gazing upon the sensual piece that had nonchalantly been draped upon your dresser, his gaze hadn’t left the fabric and he hadn’t even noticed you were staring at him with a lingering look in your eye, your heart beat beginning to pick up once more and this time it wasn’t because he was pretending to drop you.

"It's the material you first kissed me on." You pointed out, holding your hands together in front of your stomach that was now experiencing somersaults and that familiar feeling between your thighs welcomed itself once more as you swallowed thickly. 

"I know… Is this for m–" 

"Yes." 

"Put it on then, petal. Do it for me." You could have sworn your cheeks were as red as the lace he was handing you, gripping onto the soft fabric with shaky hands. This was far from how you could have ever imagined your first time with Fred to have come about, a rain-soaked boy showing up at your door and taking your breath away with his kiss. The months of teasing were finally catching up and you had to take a moment to process it all as you retreated to your bathroom. Part of you wanted to change in front of him but more of you wanted it to be a surprise and if you were honest to yourself, part of you needed a moment before you faced him. To look at the reflection of a woman you hadn’t recognised in a long time and say ‘it’s okay’ because it was okay. This was Fred… it was Fred and you, no one else. 

There was something different about the way you pulled the straps onto your bare shoulders, the way your hair frames your face as you dressed. A smile spread across your lips and you blushed to yourself, how long had it been since you had felt like this? Something like this was truly paradise felt on earth amidst the darkness you had long been suffering within. Joe wasn’t here, you reminded yourself as you exhaled and glanced towards the door and you felt reassured by your inner thoughts. 

He had begun to pace about your room as he waited for you to return, feeling an unfamiliar wave in his stomach. Never in his life had he been nervous about intimacy with a woman, but when it came to you he couldn’t help the fluttery feeling that consumed him with every step. Fred had to remind himself that it was you, not anyone else, not Cherry, his exes or one of his lame one night stands. Lastly, it wasn’t the woman he had been pining for ever since he could remember… the one who chose his brother instead of him. It was a woman who he truly felt something for, a something that he didn’t want to ruin. He hadn’t even noticed your return, staring out of the window as he was consumed by his own thoughts. Your arms snaking around his waist as you pressed yourself into his back, snapped him away from his feelings of nerves and self doubt because he had you there. 

“We still don’t have to do this, you know.” You whispered softly as your cheek pressed against his damp t-shirt, his hands coming to cover yours, giving them a reassuring squeeze as he let out a deep exhale. He didn’t have to worry around you, he didn’t have to fear that it was Cherry’s touch masked as yours. He knew that it was you in the way he could have sworn your hearts beat together. There were no words that could have ever described the way you made him feel. 

“I want this.” he mumbled, as he shook his head, mostly at the way a leech like Cherry still was able to plague his thoughts in his most vulnerable moments. Turning in your arms, your eyes meet his face which is plastered with a deep smile, biting the inside of your cheek when you realise that you are stood half-naked but pressed against the fully clothed man. Against the man who had plagued your daydreams years ago and now your thoughts at night. He took your hand in his, stepping away for a moment before lifting your arm over your head to make you twirl in front of him. The sight of you took his breath away, solidifying the thought in his brain that you truly were a goddess. Fathoming that you were his to kiss and hold made his heart race out of his chest.

“You’re beautiful.” He managed to only just choke out the compliment as his other hand found your jaw to pull you into a kiss. Nothing had ever felt so right to him than the crave of intimacy with you right now, you let him guide your bodies, your skin now flush against the cool sheets while he leant over you. Standing up briefly he pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his toned torso that made you feel weak, counting yourself lucky that you were laying down otherwise you would have surely buckled at the knees. 

Fred knew that the minute he had the opportunity to, he would take his time in worshiping every dip and curve of your body, no matter how long or tedious the process was. His hot open mouthed kisses started at your jaw, it was intoxicating to feel him mumble praise between each kiss, telling you about just how breath-taking you were to him and how much influence you had on him. His kisses along your neck left marks not to claim you but to show you just how much he cared without having to say the words. His lips travelled down to pepper kisses down the valley of your breasts, his slow pace made you grab his face with both hands.

“Don’t be a tease, Freddie.” He chuckled, his hands wrapping around your wrists, pulling them away from his face so that he could press a sweet kiss to the insides of your palms, the hint of a smirk hanging off his lips as he did so. His fingertips grazed over your skin as they ran down your arms, sending goosebumps firing over your skin. His laugh sent every good feeling of pleasure through your veins. His hands went to his belt, immediately he thought of all the ways that this could go wrong, the image of your pained expression and the way you cried into his chest sinking his heart once more. He pondered for a moment before he asked, hardly above a whisper, ‘do you want to?’ before gesturing to the belt buckle. 

You felt your heart stop, remembering how you had stopped yourself going this far before, feeling a sense of calm fall over you as you reached to undo the belt buckle. You knew that this gesture alone was enough for you to realise that Fred really did care about your comfort, he wanted you to feel as if you were in control of the situation, not forced or pressured but completely at your own free will to pull away or stop but you didn’t. You slowly unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops before setting it down on the bed, smiling up at him. 

“No more teasing, yeah?” You nodded, pressing your lips to his again as your hands found the back of his head, giving the now damp hair a gentle tug. 

No more teasing. 

taglist //  @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @pansydaisy @vogueweasley @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @darthwheezely @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half @loony-loopy-lupinn @rip-us @hopemalfoyweasley @pigwidgexn-deactivated20210125 @softlyqoos @colorfulprofessornickelangel @fandomscombine @satellitespidey @txtdreamss @aaannabbanana  @starkidpotty @mollydarling-hphm @amwithers2001 @asthmax @sarcasticallywitty15 @whizboingies  @rosietoesy

[pinkpetalwaterimagine]

On the edge... part 2 (Charlie Gillespie)

A/N: So here is part 2, hope you enjoy, and don’t hesitate to point out mistakes. 

Bonne lecture ❤️

Summary : Charlie wants to win you back but will it be enough for you to forgive ?

Word count : 2,2k

Part 1 

After two weeks of the two of you breaking up (?), Charlie still hasn’t wrapped his mind around the fact that he couldn’t go back to canada and take in his arms his girlfriend. He always thought the two of you were in for the long run. Not ready for marriage, but still. You have been together for two years ! He thought that you guys would hold more. But here he was, on the couch, staring as the ceiling as if you would appear from nowhere. 

Even if you left you were as miserable as him. Waking up everyday was a mission but you still managed to do your work, be focus on University. Even if your friends were worried because of your pale skin tone, usually your cheeks were always a bit red but it felt like all colors left your life when you left Charlie. 

You were reading in your bed when suddenly the door slammed open to reveal your best friend : « okay ! So I don’t know what happened with Charlie, you came back real sad. You don’t have to tell me, but it is paining us to see you in that state ! » Exclaimed the feisty girl. 

Instead of answering, you just rolled in your bed, groaning. « I don’t want to talk about it » you mumbled in your pillow. 

Just as she was about to speak, she was interrupted by your phone ringing. It was Owen. He had tried calling you everyday since the blown out Charlie and you had. Your friend was quicker than you and answered your phone. 

« Hey ! You can’t do that ! » you exclaimed. 

« Watch me » 

It’s not that you didn’t wanted to speak to Owen and Jeremy was probably with him but so Charlie. They live in the same apartment, of course he would be there. And you didn’t had the strength to confront your friends, if they were still your friends. You guess that their loyalty stands with Charlie. You had somehow got your life in order, you didn’t wanted one phone call throwing everything away. But here was your friend answering the FaceTime. 

« Hi Owen ! » 

Owen didn’t answer, he was a bit surprised that someone finally picked up the phone and he was more surprised that it wasn’t you that picked up. He didn’t knew your friends, sometimes seing them on your posts on Instagram, but nothing more. Hell, even Charlie didn’t knew all of them. 

« Uhm… Could I talk to Y/N ? » he asked unsure. 

« Yes of course ! But I’m going to hold the phone because I know that if I give it to her she is going to hang up on you, which is not very polite but you know… » 

« Y/N ! How are you sweetie ? » you were a bit taken aback, Owen is a nice person but he wasn’t one to give you those sweet nicknames. Maybe you looked far more bad than you thought. 

« I’m fine, I guess we could say. » you snatched your phone back from the hands of your friend. « I’m not going to hang up, you can go, don’t worry. » you said, and released a small sigh as she finally close the door behind her. Do those people learned about privacy ?

« How are you really doing though, no offense but you don’t look that good. » said Owen with a pout. He was really worried about you, you seemed in better shape than Charlie, but you still had bags under your eyes that at this point could be defined as luggages.

« Geez, thanks Owen, it’s always really nice talking to you! » you said with a laugh. It’s been a long time since you even chuckled, and a bright smile was on Owen’s face, seeing you interact that way with him after being gone from the face of the earth for two weeks. 

What you didn’t knew was that Charlie was sitting next to Owen. He always was whenever Owen tried to call you. Charlie had tried to call you but you never picked up and he figured you needed time away from him. Seeing your face through Owen’s screen brought a smile to his lips, he missed you. He knew from that moment that he had to get you back. He didn’t really care how, but he will try to do everything in his power to get you back. His brain didn’t register the conversation between the two of you, he was stuck on your face. He had a small smile dancing on is lips and when his friend ended the call he had found back that spark in his eyes. 

« Oh, you have an idea. I know this look. I don’t know if it will be a bright idea, but it’s something we can work with that » and for the first time in two weeks, Owen saw his friends coming back to life. He wasn’t wallowing in self-pity but instead he had that determined look. 

« We’re going to Canada baby ! » yelled Owen. They both packed quickly and were ready to take the next flight the next morning. Charlie realized how much of a friend was Owen. He was ready to leave with him on such short notice just to get back his girl. 

It was quite a nice day, you were walking around campus, your books under your arm, just breathing and soaking in the calm atmosphere surrounding you. And then you saw him. Standing next to a tree with his guitar in his hands. The first thought that crossed your mind was : how in the world did he know you would go by that way ? And the second one was that you felt like in High School Musical 3, but whatever. You didn’t feel strong enough to confront him. The scene of the fight kept playing in your mind. If you spoke to him you will be sobbing instead of real talking. You acted as if you didn’t see him and went in your dorm room. 

Charlie was caught off guard. He knew you saw him, but still you walked away like nothing happened. He thought that this romantic gesture would have made you listen to him at least. He wasn’t expecting you falling in his (huge) arms again but engaging in a conversation would have been nice. But Charlie wasn’t the kind of guy who gave up. He knew which door was yours. 

He took a deep breath and let his fist knock on your door. You weren’t dumb, you knew that it was him, who else ? You didn’t answer and stayed laying on your bed as if you didn’t move he will go away. It was not the case. 

« Y/N, could you open the door, I rather talk to you than this wooden board please. » he whispered as to not make a scene in the hallway and to show he was ready to talk and not scream like the last time you talked. 

For a minute you stayed frozen not really knowing what to do. And then you gave in, you knew that it was the first step to forgiveness and some people might think it is a dumb decision. But those only two weeks without him has been hard and you craved his touch, his scent, his smile, him. However you weren’t a fool, you knew that it wasn’t that hard, just barging in your dorm. You just wanted to listen to what he had to say, then you will make a decision. 

He entered the room slowly as if you were going to explode. He had his head hung low whereas you were standing straight your arms crossed to shield yourself from what he’s going to say. 

« I know that we had our fair share of screaming last time, just know that I’m not here to do that again, I don’t want to. » a silence fell between the two of you. You were waiting for what he had to say next. 

« Okay, uhm, these two weeks without you has been hell, I miss you. I know we are not together as much as we would like but we were good together. I miss your texts, I miss your smile, I miss everything about you from your witty remarks to the way you wear my sweatshirts when we are on the phone. I miss you and there’s no distancing myself from that. » he said silently, his hands were slightly shaking and his eyes was at the same time sad but still having a spark inside of them. 

You took a minute to take your breath before answering. You had to process everything he just said before saying yourself what you wanted and how you were feeling. 

« Charlie, you know that I love you, and there’s no doubt about this. But being away from you is really hard, and seeing you happy and joyful with Madison as well as with the cast. I want you to be happy don’t get me wrong it’s just that I feel like I’m left aside. I know that it’s normal because, obviously, I can’t be with you guys… I don’t know how to get out of that situation. You are not quitting your job, and I’m not quitting uni, so I really don’t know how to do this. » at the end of the sentence your voice broke down and the first tears began to slide down your cheeks. 

Charlie was quick to take your face between his hands, his thumbs wiping your tears. Tears were starting to form at the edge of Charlie’s eyes. 

« Hey, hey, look at me » you met his beautiful and deep blue/ green eyes. « I know we can get through this, I know that we can find a solution. And you know it, if you didn’t you wouldn’t have let me in. I know that you believe in us as much as I do. I believe in us. We can visit each other more ! And we just finished filming season one, that means I’m going to be home more often even if I have some other projects. I’m ready to make it work Y/N ! The only question is are you ? » 

For a few seconds you let his words sink in your brain, you thought about how much he made you happy, how much he has done for you and how much you have done for him. A relationship is made by two people, the two of you were ready to work through this difficult time. And at the end of the day, it was all that matter. 

Charlie was still looking into your eyes, trying to understand where you were. You pulled him by his neck and bring your lips closer, only a centimeter was in between. 

« I’m ready to work with you, I’m ready to fight for us, but only if you are too »you whispered. A bright smile appeared on his lips, he closed the gap between your lips. And you felt at home again with your lips on his, his hands on your waist. His Chest against yours. It was a slow kiss, happy to finally find yourselves in each other again. 

« I love you » his eyes were glossy, his lips puffed, he was a sight to behold. 

You put your lips on him again, this time more urgently, almost hungry for him. His phone rang, which stopped your make-out session. He took out his phone and seeing Owen’s face on the screen, he clicked the red button to focus on what really mattered. (Aka you) 

[lil-smutier]

<< Chapter 8 : Trepidation >>

A loud slam of the door echoed throughout Kiyoomi’s bedroom, the man panting lightly, as if he had jogged his way over to his apartment from earlier in the afternoon. Pulling his mask down, his stare zeroed in on the wooden floor; heart pounding in fear and discomfort, what happened today? Why did I act like that? What is she doing to me? Staggering forward, wobbly knees all but collapsed as the spiker plopped himself down on his bed, calves hanging carelessly off the side of it. He thought over the day’s events, you – you with your stupidly adorable outfit, and your evil little smile (how dare you give him such an alluring smile?).

You with your unwavering organisation skills, even from day one. Day one! From the first moment he had met you, it seemed like you had a solution for everything; never allowing yourself to stray from what you had prepared… you were teasing him, you had to have been! Posting that sketch, enjoying the last slice of cake so happily, the gift… a sudden rush washed over him like ice cold water, shooting up from his bed and digging into your gift-bag, sweaty palms causing the silk to slip between his fingers a few times before he grasped it tightly, pulling it out hastily, laying them across his lap and staring at them, dark eyes shining with adoration. Not only did the gloves fit him snugly, but now he wouldn’t have to take the time to avoid the many germs he had to encounter on a daily basis otherwise.

Sakusa’s heart skipped a beat and he swore he was going to get a heart attack soon because of you; devilish vixen - you had taken over his mind and all his thoughts. He wasn’t sure what irked him more, the fact that he couldn’t stomp down the love he felt for you and your habits - both good and bad - or the fact that you managed to crack your way through his stone-walled exterior, nonetheless, it hurt. It hurt him that he had started doubting you, and that his doubt had caused him to hide away behind this character, someone who you not truly believed existed, but also someone that you honestly trusted. Sure, he could go and pretend that it never happened; he could follow you from his main account and start over, he was sure Anubis would fade out of your memory eventually… but he couldn’t, he just couldn’t.

You were just so nice. There was no way he could hurt you by dropping someone who you thought was a friend, nor could he risk tarnishing your view of him had you found out about his dirty little secret. His head spun, a cold sweat running down from his hairline across his forehead as he desperately tried to find an escape route; there had to be something right? Somewhere he could run to, - to hide from or help you, he wasn’t sure - somehow he could tell you how he felt, an apology, perhaps? He would give you one, he considered it; he just needed a way to bring it up.

~~

Your phone chimed from where it was charging on your bedside table. Releasing a small grumble, you headed over, tying your hair up in a towel after your shower while you analysed the notification, eyes narrowing in slight suspicion at the text:

‘ New message from @thebettermiya! ’

What the… you sigh, opening the chat icon anyways, wanting to hear the scapegrace out before you made any other judgement towards him. ‘Hey Hashi-chan, got time to talk?’ Before you can reply to that, the three dots fade in again, bouncing up and down for a mere minute before another message flows in, ‘Oh good, you read it. That means you’re gonna hear me out.’ rolling your eyes at that, you send a witty response back: ‘Yeah doofus, don’t make me regret sparing you some attention ;)’ Silence. Then another two dings!

‘You’re a cheeky one aren’t ya?’

‘Listen, it’s about Omi-kun.’

Tension fills your body at the last message, having to read it over at least three times before responding carefully, ‘What is it Miya-san? You were the one who said that it might “fry my pretty little brain”. ’ it was harsh, you would admit that much, but it was well-deserved too. Atsumu had been hounding you throughout nearly the entire lunch, hovering by your shoulder and making various comments about your obvious crush on the outside hitter. ‘Well damn,’ Atsumu’s message filtered through, ego obviously bruised at your parroting of his earlier words, ‘I changed my mind, something doesn’t sit right with me either the more I think about what you said.’ a small huff of laughter broke through your hysteria as you let your fingers speak your mind.

‘Well then, there must be a reason why you chose to tell me about it.’

‘There is actually, you free tomorrow Hashi-chan?’

You genuinely didn’t know whether to snort at that, or go back to attacking the male when your brain processed the end of his message, ‘I am, are you asking me out on a date Miya-san? ;)’ It was a long-shot at a joke, but you were willing to try anything to lighten the mood right now, hoping that it would in turn calm your nerves too. Atsumu snorted at that, pushing himself up on his bed so that his back was leaning lazily on the wooden headboard while he typed back one-handedly: ‘You really are something huh ;)’ cheeky, he chuckled to himself, sadistically enjoying the madness you seemed to be falling through, ‘unfortunately, no, it’s not a date, I just wanna know why my Omi-Omi is acting so uncharacteristically too.’

Your message buzzed on his screen almost immediately:

‘...Fine, where and when?’

The setter felt the corner of his lip hike up, the smirk on his face nearly predatory as he typed back his answers to your questions, ‘Onigiri Miya’s, tomorrow at 10AM.’ A thumbs up icon was all the confirmation he got, getting up and out of his room, sauntering into the living room, then the kitchen; where his brother was busy following a youtube video detailing a new recipe he had been rambling about. “Samu.” His twin didn’t even turn around, totally unfazed by his brother sneaking up behind him, “Tsumu.” “I’ve got a friend coming over to yer restaurant tomorrow around 10, ya wanna meet her?” The hand chopping the spring onions on the cutting board stopped midway, the younger eyeing the other with a questioning glance.

“Who would wanna be friends with ya?”

“Shuddap ya scrub! Do ya wanna meet her or not??”

Osamu visibly thought about the proposition, setting the knife down and crossing his arms across his chest before shrugging, “Ya invited her to my restaurant, how am I not supposed to meet her?” “Simple. Yer the waiter–” the volleyball player’s speech broke off into choking coughs as his twin slapped him with the uncut vegetable, the greens making a quiet crunching sound when they collided with his cheek.

~~

The next morning, you were up considerably early. You couldn’t sleep properly after your conversation with the setter, too many thoughts running laps in your mind for you to actually relax fully, instead causing you to resort to tossing and turning between every few hours of actual rest you managed to get. Chimes rang through Onigiri Miya’s as you entered, causing a familiar head of golden blonde hair to bounce up from its seat, the volleyball player rushing over to you with open arms. “Mornin’ Hashi-chan!” He seemed way too elated considering the reason why you both were here in the first place, but it wasn’t unwelcoming, so you didn’t comment on it, “Morning Miya-san.” you responded in a yawn.

Atsumu didn’t say anything, just continued holding his arms open silently while he watched you expectantly; raising an eyebrow you awkwardly shuffled yourself between the space he created, shrinking into yourself more and more as his arms snake around you firmly, caging you in a warm, oddly comforting hug. “...Miya-san..?” You started in confusion, but he cut you off, “Why do ya still call me that Hashi-chan? You can just call me Tsumu ya know.” it was quiet, just barely above a whisper before he pulled away, sending you a cheeky wink before sitting back down on his chair. You were thankful that the restaurant was empty, - customers hadn’t begun filling in yet, so it was only you and Atsumu for now - at least no one would eavesdrop on your conversation.

Even though Atsumu himself was curious about the sudden change in his teammate’s attitude towards not only you, but the team as well; he didn’t want to push you into saying anything you weren’t willing to. He had felt the uneasiness pouring off of your being, despite the steady shell you seemed to display, hence why he tried to mess with you a bit, in a sad attempt to ease your nerves. I really thought the hug would calm her, damn, I think it made her more jumpy… he sighed, drumming his calloused fingers on the table as he observed you, your eyes darting from corner to corner of the shop, then back at the door behind him. “Hashi-chan. Relax. I asked my brother to close up the shop for today so we could talk.”

That seemed to give you some sort of peace as you slid back into your chair, calming yourself before meeting his hooded eyes again, “Alright Mi–” you coughed, “Tsumu. Any idea about Sakusa-san’s behaviour?” the elder laughed at your slip-up, but allowed his expression to settle down into something more solemn, save for the tiny upward tilt of his lips. “Not really, do ya?” You shook your head. “None at all, I had only met you guys once before all of this started, except for Shoyo whom I met first, with Hitoka-chan.” The blonde listened to you attentively, taking in your side of the timeline when something struck him, “What about your fanart account?” you paused, eyes flicking towards him in suspicion, “What about it? Only the four of you follow me as far as I know, that excluding Hitoka-chan and Sakusa-san.” “Really?” that caught the latter’s interest, it seemed strange to him because: “Meian-san said Omi-kun asked for yer account name… not only that but he noted it down in his phone as well, according to Cap’n himself.” Your eyes widened; whipping out your phone from your bag and scrolling through the follower list.

“Nothing matches Sakusa-san’s legitimate social media Tsumu, here,” you argued disappointedly, passing him your phone, “see? Aside from you guys, everyone else seems like a normal fan account.”

“He could’ve made another account.” A new voice reasoned from behind you.

You turned around in your seat, facing the newcomer - Osamu Miya. He bore an exact resemblance to the man sitting across from you currently ( Duh, they’re twins?? You hit yourself mentally for the obvious deduction.) except for the fact that he had cool-grey eyes, that matched his hairstyle, and that he was dressed in a black long sleeve shirt and dark coloured jeans, an apron tied around his waist. He had come from the kitchen, carrying a small plate with some onigiri triangles stacked upon it. “Ah- I’m sorry for the intrustion!” Osamu’s face broke out into a small grin, waving his hand in front of his face dismissively, “It’s alright Hashi-san was it?” you nod, a shy but grateful smile on your face, “Ya can just call me Samu, it’s easier so ya don’t get confused between me and that idiot over there.” “HEY! I’M STILL HERE!” Atsumu grumbles loudly behind the two of you.

“Alright, alright Prince Atsumu,” You call over your shoulder, pulling a sly laugh from his brother when you turn to focus your attention back onto him, “you said he could’ve made another account?” the taller nods, “Is it a possibility that he could’ve gone undercover somehow? If that even makes sense.” you consider this, (and going by his twin’s silence behind you, he’s considering it too.) when you hear Atsumu pipe up from behind you again, “Have ya been talking to anyone new recently Hashi-chan?” you begin to shake your head no before pausing abruptly, realisation and shock hitting you in the face all at once.

“Yes, I have, actually.”

~~

There was a 50-50 chance that the Anubis character you’ve been talking to for the past two months and ongoing was your idol, Sakusa Kiyoomi. That 50% chance led to the two brothers peering over either of your shoulders while you slowly scrolled through your texts between the account and you from the beginning up until whatever was the last one. “Ya told them ya met us in real life?” You hear the setter exclaim in incredulity, “Yeah…” you trail off quietly, not sure if what you had said was a good thing or not; you hear Osamu clear his throat pointedly before Atsumu continues, “Probably don’t do that Hashi-chan. Could attract the ugly side of the media.” you nod in understanding, listening to Osamu on your left this time, “They seemed to believe what yer saying pretty quickly though, if it were me, I wouldn’t believe that ya had such a fever dream ya know.” it was a pretty off-hand comment, but it did strike a nerve in you regarding how true the comment was.

That’s pretty true though… you told yourself, continuing to scroll through the messages, listening as the twins - Atsumu mainly - commented on how alike Anubis’s daily stories matched their own routines as well as Sakusa’s descriptions of his teammates, such as them agreeing when you called Atsumu a ‘flirt’ (to which the aforementioned adamantly denied the fact, earning a playful smack to the back of his head from his brother). All in all, the three of you concluded that there was a heavy chance that Anubis was most likely Sakusa-san using another account he had made for whatever reason. Just then, you remembered something, burying your face in your palms as you let out a soft, continuous: “aaaaaaaaaaaaa–” both males looked at you in worry, asking you what was wrong. “I told ‘Anubis’ I have a separate account dedicated to art I’ve drawn of Sakusa-san only! Not only that but I sent them the account too!”

Your face was on fire. “Really? Didn’t know ya liked him that much– OW!” You smile weakly, grateful to Samu for stopping whatever his brother had to say with an elbow to the ribs, “Ignore him Hashi-san. I’m sure as long as ya didn’t draw anything explicit it should be fine!” he reasoned with you, smiling when you relaxed, “Besides… ya don’t even know if that’s really Sakusa-san or not.” now that made you slightly upset, “How do I confirm it? I don’t want to interrogate someone who isn’t Sakusa-san… I could lose a friend that way, had it not been him.”

“We could do an experiment.” Both his brother and you turn to face the blonde, “Something that could clearly show that Omi-kun did in fact make another account to follow ya instead of using his own.” you contemplated the idea, it could work if the situations provided no sense of ‘coincidence’ to them, but how? “I have an idea on what to do.” “Oh, did I say that aloud?” you ask, watching with a giddy smile when both brothers nod gleefully. Exhaling tiredly, you drop your head back slightly, “Alright, let’s hear that plan of yours Tsumu.”

~~

The upcoming week is probably going to be one of the most stressful weeks you’ve had the misfortune (fortune?) of experiencing. The twins had given you the option to just let them handle it, to just sweep this incident under the rug and accept Sakusa-san’s advances until he’s ready to talk about it himself, but you couldn’t just pretend nothing had happened; especially not after you now know that there’s about a 70% chance that you had given your private fanaccount to the exact person you dedicated it to. Seriously, what were the chances of that? How embarrassing… you shake your head, determined to not get caught up in your thoughts right now of all times; you might as well settle this once and for all, if not, this is going to be bound to keep you up in the nights to come.

Firstly, you needed a good reason to get to meet the team again. Osamu had suggested that you could help bring the team some snacks with him during their half-time at one of their matches; it would give you an excuse to see them again, as well as give you an excuse to try and pry a little into Sakusa-san’s secret affair. Now to find a reason to poke at the fire, you conjectured, glancing at your phone screen, - switched off and in silent mode - with uncertainty … God, I hope I don’t get this wrong… You reach for the device, turning it back on and opening the chat between you and ‘Anubis’: ‘Hey Anubis! You there? ’

Sakusa flinched at the familiar chime of the incoming message. It wasn’t like he had purposely set a separate ringtone for you, he just didn’t really use that application other than to text you or comment on your work, resulting in that chiming sound to end up haunting his dreams. Wasting no more time, he tapped on the notification icon, replying with an affirmative to your question; ‘What’s your favourite food?’ huh? That’s odd, but I guess it’s not a weird question to ask someone… the hitter decided to be honest with his answer, it wasn’t as if he was the only person in the entirety of Tokyo that liked ‘Umeboshi’, ‘Oh! I see :)’ your reply was surprisingly short, Kiyoomi noted, he was used to the both of you rambling on and on to each other, often ending up sending story-length paragraphs about either of your days or how you both were feeling. Today seemed different, but then again, you could just be having a bad day, the ace rationalised, suddenly hyper focused on trying to cheer you up by continuing the conversation, putting more energy into it than usual.

“Pickled plums? Omi-Omi likes those too, perhaps yer on the right track Hashi-chan!” Atsumu’s cheerful voice poured out through your phone speaker, the tone crackling with static, but still heavily accented. You sigh, - whether in relief or desperation you weren’t quite sure as of yet - but respond anyhow, “Hopefully Tsumu… Samu’s coming to get me tomorrow morning right?” a soft hum vibrated lowly into your ear, causing you to giggle tiredly at the ticklish sensation. Oh well, tomorrow was one third of your truth, so hopefully it’ll be worth the trouble.

~~

When morning rolled around, you and Osamu dropped by at the supermarket, buying a small pack of pickled plums, the wrinkled fruit squashed and misshapen within the package as an attempt to fit as many as possible within it; you poke at the cling-wrap covering in nervousness, causing the silver-haired male to click his tongue at you, “Yer gonna poke a hole through the packaging if ya keep proddin’ at it like that Hashi-san.” a frown etches deeper into your expression while you place the small plastic rectangle back into its paper bag, “Sorry Samu, just nervous.” “Yer gonna be fine! It’s not like ya haven’t met them before right?” he consoled, sparing you a glance before focusing his attention back on the road in front of him. You nod, trying to pick up some small talk to ease your nerves.

~~

Everyone was glad to see you again, hugs and high-fives were shared between most of the team members and you; including a rehearsed-looking wave from Sakusa-san. He seemed surprised, not understanding why you had tagged along with the nicer twin’s snack delivery today when you hadn’t done so throughout the other two to three months that had passed since you had met everyone, but that surprise quickly wore off when he heard the cheers of the crowds for each team on the court outside their locker room. He was here to play a match dammit, he couldn’t get distracted by something so comprehensible as you coming to deliver meat buns and onigiri to them.

“Sakusa-san?”

“Hm?” Although on the outside Kiyoomi looked like he bore no reaction to you walking up to him, he swears that inwardly he nearly jumped out of his skin when you popped up by his side, still keeping your distance too, how thoughtful, “I, I got these for you,” with that, you held out the bag with the Umeboshi in it, silently holding your breath when thin fingers picked them out of your hands, rustling around in the brown paper as he pulled out the packet, examining it with a scrunched face, “I heard that you like Umeboshi so I thought I’d get you some!” Suddenly, the room started spinning. Sakusa kept his footing, but while he continued to watch the rest of the team chatting amongst themselves behind you; he felt his vision begin to blur slightly.

Surely this was just a coincidence right..? There was no way that you so happened to hear about and get him his favourite food the day after Anubis had told you the exact same knowledge… right?

“Ya alright Omi-kun?”

The tallest’s attention snapped to the blonde in front of him, his vision clearing up instantly as he took in the setter’s elbow on your shoulder, making you seem even smaller in comparison as he leaned on you for support. “I’m…fine, Miya-san.” The looks on both your and Atsumu’s faces told him that neither of you believed a word that came out of his mouth, yet, thankfully, no more questions were asked, and the conversation was dropped.

~~

“Did ya see him?? He was abouta faint Hashi-chan! That’s gotta raise some red flags or something.” You nod, looking between the brothers as Atsumu bounced in his spot; it was about closing time at Onigiri Miya’s by the time you and Samu had left the stadium, taking a very, very smug Atsumu along with the two of you. “Maybe he was just tired, sometimes I get like that when exercising too.” You argue feebly, not really sure why you refused to believe the clear connection, - too much to be coincidental - Atsumu cocked an eyebrow, “We’re athletes Hashi-chan, ya cannot seriously think that Omi-kun wouldn’t be able to tell when he’s overworking himself?” you shrug, “Only one way to find out. Tomorrow’s another day, so I think I’m gonna head home and get as much rest as I can.” bidding them goodbye, you head home and go straight to bed, head pounding as you pictured what to do next.

You really didn’t want to go anywhere today. It was Tuesday, already busy with three two hour lectures taking up your early morning and entire afternoon time; that and the homework that had also stacked up from the few days prior leaving you no real choice but to stay home and finish up whatever you could before the day fades away. So that’s what you ended up doing, or at least tried to do, as your mind kept wandering to yesterday’s events; what would you do if Anubis had actually turned out to be Sakusa-san? You’d be moderately horrified, sure, but what would you even say to him? Would you be angry? Should you be angry? He was stalking you! You frown, feeling your thoughts muddle into a disappointing puddle of hurt and doubt; you don’t think you’re upset, personally, it was indeed wrong of him to do what he did, but for some reason, you feel as though you don’t want to hold it against him.

The setter watched Kiyoomi clutch his jacket-clad arm brutally, the fabric crumpling tightly around his forearm as manicured nails continued to dig into it the stronger the grip got. He felt pity, he wanted to help out more, to try and tell Sakusa to just ‘man-up’ and talk to you like a normal person… but, he wasn’t supposed to even know about your conversations with the hitter (you had sworn him to secrecy about it). Still, he couldn’t just standby and let his friend injure himself! Marching over, he yanked Kiyoomi’s hand off of his arm, getting an accusatory shout to his face as a thank you, “Omi! What is wrong with ya today?? Ya almost squeezed yer arm off!” Atsumu was irritated, not angry, but he really needed his teammate to focus on the current situations if either of you were supposed to reach their end goal.

“I- I’m sorry…” At that, the blonde’s stare softened, this really means a lot to both of them huh… he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose a couple times before reaching out to grab at his friend’s shoulder, a little stunned when he was allowed to do so, “It’s fine, relax, let’s go practice yeah?” Dark eyes met brown ones, a small glimmer of relief shining in them as he nodded, “Sure.”

~~

This time, your phone chimes. It’s Anubis, asking for you. You give him a confirmation that you’re there to hear him out, ‘You alright Dark?’ heh, I don’t even know that myself, you smile pitifully, typing back your answer in delayed movements, ‘I’m okay I guess, why, what’s up Anubis?’ it should weird you out that this caricature of your idol has talked to you so much that they can recognise when you don’t really feel like yourself, but it’s endearing to you nonetheless as he reminds you that you seemed pretty out of character yourself when you randomly asked him about his favourite food yesterday. You send him a laughing emoticon and try to start up some normal conversation to try and calm yourself and your raging mind.

‘Normal conversation’ didn’t turn out the way you had planned, your gut feeling tingling when you caught something in your conversation that you could use to your benefit. It began with asking each other about what the other likes to do in their own free time, whether that be an activity one does consistently or not is entirely free to choose; - ‘I like cleaning and reorganising my room haha, boring I know’ - that was the message that had seemed to be the key to your next step, eyes scanning over the perfectly worded reply: ‘It’s not boring :) I like keeping myself and my room clean and tidy too, I don’t appreciate the crowds of people that come and mess it up again though.’ Ah to Hell with it, you groan quietly to yourself, typing out your retort and tapping send before you can second-guess yourself.

‘Oh? You sound a lot like Sakusa-san haha :)’

~~

Kiyoomi felt a heart attack beginning to start in his chest, a cold sweat dripping down his forehead and back from where he sat lazily on his desk chair. ‘Oh… what makes you say that Dark??’ He hoped that his message didn’t seem like too large of a break in his act, certainly you meant that he just appeared to be like- well, himself! Right? What could’ve possibly given him away? ‘You don’t like crowds like him, and you both like your cleanliness and tidiness ;)’

That wink.

That infuriating wink emoticon.

You had to know, you just had to be messing with him; intent on making him go crazy now. He wanted to shoot back a threat to you, one that showed you that he wasn’t someone you could just drag around the bush like this! But… what if you weren��t? What if that wasn’t your intention..? Sakusa Kiyoomi had already doubted you once… was he really going to make that mistake again? No. He can’t, he cannot lose you. God, what were you doing to him?? ‘Oh, I see. I think I should head off now Dark, it’s getting late.’ He signed off, unknowing that his reply shot the 70% of your confirmation all the way up to a 99%.

You felt giddy. Signing off on your side too, you immediately called Atsumu, asking if you could join them at practice tomorrow, “Hashi-chan, what-” a loud yawn cut him off before he continued to talk, “Why do ya want to come to training with us tomorrow??” “Tsumu, you are not nearly coherent enough for me to tell you right now. Meet me tomorrow before you go to training, I’ll fill you in on everything, I promise.” another drawn out yawn and then silence before an, “Okay okay, ya owe me.” “I’ll buy you rice and fatty tuna after all of this is over I swear.” and with that, you went to sleep, a newfound hope growing in your heart and mind.

~~

“So yer telling me, he basically gave himself away?”

You grin mischievously, eyes glinting while you watched Tsumu read through your entire conversation last night, a huff of laughter left him when he had reached the bottom, large hand coming down gently on your head to ruffle your hair, “Ya really are too smart for yer own good ya know.” it was light-hearted, and you laughed too, finally feeling like you had some sort of control for yourself over the situation.

“That’s not the best part, I still have something I want you to help me with, if you don’t mind Tsumu.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

~~

The squeaks of volleyballs and gym shoes hitting the practice courts made you cringe slightly, covering the ear that was facing said courts. “Ya alright Dark?” Atsumu asked with concern, looking down at you as you looked to be in genuine pain at the sudden high pitched strikes of sound. You nod, speaking clearly, “I’m alright Tsumu-kun! Just not used to the high-pitched sounds heh.” another head pat was delivered to you graciously; this idiot is really playing the part, you giggled to yourself, smiling brightly at him while you went to greet everyone once more.

Across the courts, Sakusa had seen the entire interaction. He wasn’t totally phased by you joining them for practice again, figuring you probably had your own reasons to be here today; but watching how close you had grown to their setter set something aflame within him. The ravenette could’ve sworn you both weren’t on a first-name basis the last time he had seen you… did you meet Miya-san again privately? How many times?? A loud, cheerful laugh broke through his thoughts, obsidian irises flickering away from the taut net towards you. You had your head thrown back, laughing away at something the blonde had seemingly whispered into your ear. Sakusa caught himself, shaking his head vigorously to try and rid himself from his own speculation before someone, - or you - noticed that he was letting his eyes linger for a little too long.

You felt the heavy stare on your back as you laughed, the glare seeming to drill into your spine; however, you weren’t clueless to who it was, already guessing that you managed to catch the spiker’s attention by becoming closer to the one person who he was most competitive towards. A minute shiver ran down your spine when Atsumu leaned down to whisper in your ear once more, “Yer little crush is fumin’ over there Dark.” his low chuckle brought a smile to your face too, the control you felt over the situation giving you a tiny high when you jabbed him in the side good-naturedly, “Now, all I have to do is wait. Thanks Tsumu-kun!” the latter just shook his head in his hand, body twitching with his own laughter. “Remind me not to piss ya off Dark, yer a dangerous one.” Honey brown eyes met yours and you shot him a wink, patting his shoulders before walking off to talk to the others.

~~

‘I didn’t realise you were so close to Atsumu Miya too.’

Kiyoomi was fuming. The whole day. The. Whole. Day. You were torturing him! You hardly spoke to him, barely batting an eyelash at him as you continued to yap and blabber with all his teammates (and his captain too!) about God knows what! He wasn’t thinking straight, conscience blurred by the rage and jealousy he felt towards you at this moment. Maybe I was right; she was just playing with my heart… I mean, no– there’s no way, I’m sure there’s a reason behind this right? Right..? Rage transformed into pain, tears threatening to prick at his eyes, the irises looking towards the half-eaten packet of umeboshi that you had gotten him. A chill washed over him, long legs twitching on the bed before shuffling to get under the covers in a quiet attempt to bury the sting he knew was going to get from this conversation.

You, on the other hand, felt extremely warm. You spun around in your chair, foot bouncing in impatience when the message came in. At first, you stared at it for a considerable amount of time, unsure of how to approach the situation properly just yet, so you just settled on trying to coax him out for now: ‘What do you mean?’ he hadn’t addressed you with your name, so why should you? Besides, it didn’t feel quite right to call him someone he wasn’t anymore, the deception still being hidden away somewhere in the back of your mind. Guilt nibbled at your heart as you waited for a response; there were definitely other ways you could’ve approached this situation, much less sadistic ways, but those would also be too risky. Your hand twitched with the vibration that came from your phone, eyes widening at the sudden harshness of the reply: ‘Cut the bullshit Dark Hashi. What do you want from me?’

He just, snapped . That was all there really was to it in Kiyoomi’s mind, he was trembling, chest heaving with each heavy breath he took and let go, hyperventilating with tears rolling down his cheeks, leaving streaks of salty water to stain them. He was sure of it this time, that you were driving him crazy. But what he hated was that he found that he couldn’t be less bothered by that truth, the sound of his notifications rang through his ears, almost making him reach up to cover them in a panic instead of reading your response; ‘I want to know why you created another account and lied to me, Sakusa-san.’ it felt like an anvil had dropped straight on top of the hitter, his heart shattering at your answer.

You knew.

You knew.

She knew.

The male shouted into his room, swearing and cursing himself before reaching for his phone again, shaky fingers desperately typing and deleting various replies to try to explain it to you. Amongst the spelling errors, you could tell that he was freaking out. Frowning, you felt the wave of rue shoot through you; ‘Sakusa-san. Listen. Let’s meet in person somewhere tomorrow okay?’ Silence… He’s considering it, you decided, giving him some time before a quiet, sad-sounding reply of defeat was delivered:

‘Okay.’

[goodlucktkachuk]

Frantic -- Matthew Tkachuk (Pt.2)

a/n: And by popular demand we have part two. Hope you guys enjoy!

Part One

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Instantly a smile covered your face as you pressed confirm. Your instagram was nothing of scandal, mainly  paintings or doodles, a few pictures of you and Emily, and some vacation photos from last summer in Muskoka that you knew Matthew will enjoy. When Mitch reentered the room he shot you a puzzled look.

“What’s got you so chipper mini?” He teased, using the nickname your mom affectionately gave you when you were four and in a phase where you followed Mitch everywhere.

Chuckling, you shrugged your shoulders, “Emily sent me a really funny video of Nick in a facemask.” He laughed at the thought and the topic was dropped.

Around 1am, Mitch was blacked out on the couch next to you so you took the blanket you had wrapped around you and you tried to place it as softly as possible on your sleeping brother. After turning off the TV, you headed into their bathroom to borrow Steph’s makeup wipes. As you stared at yourself in the mirror for the first time that day and you could really see how tired you were. The all nighters of  homework and the rush and fall of going to games had started to catch up with you. You quickly slipped into Mitches closet and grabbed one of his old London hoodies and a pair of boxers. Once you found yourself in your pajamas and the warm embrace of the guest bed you flicked your eyes on your phone once again.

*Matthew_Tkachuk has sent you a message*

Intrigued by what the boy has to say you slid over the notification and unlocked your phone.

Matthew: first of all, what the fuck? Had I know it was you I wouldn’t have said what I said

Y/N: what?

Matthew: You didn’t think to mention that you're a mini marnie princess?

Y/N: why does it matter matty? Not like I live with him anymore. I’m an adult now Matty

Matthew: You’re still Mitches kid sister Y/N! I can’t just brush that off

Your chest ran tight after hearing him call you a kid. You knew you were younger but didn’t see the big deal about it.

Y/N: Oh give me a break, I’m 19, I’m all grown up now Tkachuk

Matthew: prove it, move this to snap and put your money where your mouth is ;)

Your heart fluttered in your chest but before you could enjoy it you found yourself mentally scorning yourself. This was your brother's old teammate and a family friend. Hell, you and Tayrn were attached at the hip everytime you two were together. There was too much history. Even though everything in your mind screamed no you found yourself accepting his proposal anyway before drifting off to sleep.

The next morning you woke up to find there was a sticky note placed firmly on your forehead. Pulling it off slowly, you flipped it over and it read ‘Went out for lunch with some of the team. Text me when you wake up’ The fact he couldn’t have just texted you that made you roll your eyes. You slowly lifted yourself out of the bed and started your staggered walk to the guest bathroom.

The sight in the mirror this morning was actually pretty cute. Your braids were slightly a mess from the night before but it went nicely with how Mitches sweater fit you and how his boxers hung off your hips. You snapped a picture of you throwing up a peace sign and posted it on your story with some witty caption about stealing Mitch’s clothes and looking better in them before hopping in the shower.

After departing from the warmth of the shower you changed back into your jeans from the night before and kept the sweater on. You ordered yourself some food and pulled out your laptop to get some school work done. Before you dove into art history and marketing techniques you opened a snapchat from Matt.

It wasn’t anything groundbreaking. He was sitting in a restaurant somewhere in a nice polo shirt. You could see half his face and his curls were pushed up with a red bandana. You stared at it for so long that you almost forgot to read what it said. ‘Snazzy hoodie you got there mini marnie, too bad it has the wrong name on the back’

You followed suit with your response, only sending half your face with a smirk plastered to your lips. ‘See Marner suits me so much better than Tkachuk so I think I’ll stick with this one!’

Matthew smiles at his phone. He was at a team lunch with the Flames and a few Leafs to catch up before they had to head back to Calgary. It was nice to see all the boys again, especially Mitch even though he had a different Marner on his mind. The lunch was overall pleasant even with all the dirty looks he had got from Auston any time anyone mentioned Y/N. As hard as it was for him not to spew endless chirps, he knew if he ever wanted a shot with you he knew he had to bite his tongue.

Deciding taking photos wasn’t the smartest way to hide what he was doing he texted you back instead. “Ouch Y/N that one hurt a bit. Hopefully in a few years you’ll change your mind ;)”

Y/N: In your dreams, Tkachuk. The team already has me destined to be with Aus so you gotta get in line.

Seeing those words made a fire erupt in his body. He knew you were probably just joking around but the idea of Auston getting to hold you made his blood run cold. Maybe that friendly warning wasn’t in the best interest of Y/N but Auston being selfish.

Matty: Auston has nothing on me sweetheart.

His words stopped you in your tracks. You never thought the juvenile feelings you had for Matthew would ever be reciprocated but here he was playing the game right back.

Y/N: I don’t know Matty, I’ve seen what Austons packing

As soon as Matthew read your text he slammed his phone down with a ‘Fuck’ that was a bit too loud making all the guys look at him.

“What’s your deal?”  Johnny asks, confused at his sudden outburst.

“Nothing.” Matthew says before he picks his phone backup and answers his text.

Matthew: I’m sorry what?

Before you answered, your mind drifted back to the previous summer. Mitch had invited the team and their girlfriends up to your cottage for one of the long weekends. It was a really fun weekend filled with drinking, boating, bonfires and even more drinking. On the last night there, Auston had a bit too much and proceeded to take off his swim trunks and run full force into the lake. Thinking it was hilarious, a few of the other boys followed suit. Unfortunately, because of where you were sitting when this happened, you saw a bit more of your brother's teammate than you would like to.

Snapping back to realted you messaged him back.

Y/N: you read what I sent

Matthew: tell me how good he was and then let me show you something better princess.

A mad blush crossed your face at the thought of Matthew showing you what he could do. You pushed those thoughts out of your head and began work on the lecture notes you were avoiding. Trying your best to push the thought of him having his way with you out of your head.

A few hours passed and the boys all crashed into Mitches apartment. Mo, Jake, and Zach set up shop on the bar stools across from you as Auston draped himself over your shoulders. Mitch leaned over the edge of the counter, all of them talking over each other. You missed having a house full of players all having fun. Matthew texted you again and you quickly turned your phone over before anyone could see it but you weren’t fast enough. Hearing your phone go off and seeing Auston look over your shoulder, Jake shot him a look to which Auston just shook his head and they both frowned knowing it was Tkachuk. Still typing away on your computer, Aus reached down putting his hands on yours and the pressure alone messed you up. As you went to scold him Jake interrupted you.

“So Y/N did you hear the Sandman and his girlfriend broke up?”

“I didn’t actually, I thought they were gonna get engaged?” Not looking up from your screen you tried speaking with as little interest as possible.

He shrugged his shoulders then continued “Guess it didn’t work out” He took a slight pause while Auston nodded at him  “Maybe you two should go out. Mitch mentioned at lunch you aren't seeing anyone.”

“I’m not sure dating another leaf is a good idea.” You responded still trying to feign interest.

“I think that would be a great idea.” Aus chimed in from behind you.

“I don’t remember asking what you thought, Auston.” You bite back.

You could cut the tension between you and Auston with a knife. After about a minute of no one saying anything, Mitch clapped loudly to catch the group's attention before he spoke.  

“Alright boys I think it's time for some Modern Warfare” The boys all nodded and headed towards the living room.

Auston leaned in close, whispering in your ear before going to meet the others, “It’s cause he’s young right? I know guys my age are more your speed these days.”

You flinched slightly, “I don’t know what you're talking about” You tried to say as smoothly as possible.

“If you say so, pest.” The last word basically being spat at you with a hostility you had never felt from him before. He finally let go of you and headed for the living room.

With that comment you had had enough and excused yourself to head back to your apartment. On your way down to the lobby knowing you were safe from the watchful eye of Auston and Jake you decided to answer Matthew.

Matthew: Y/N? Did I say something that's going to get me in trouble?

Y/N: Sorry, got distracted by some homework. Since when is Matty Tkachuk afraid of causing a little trouble ?

Part Three

[vinylhazza]

“that was embarrassing” and “it’s not funny”

I'm not sure if this was on the smut prompt list but this was so cute so I'm posting anyway. hope you like it! 

it was the last and final time you would ever go rollerskating with Grayson for as long as you lived.

not only had you made an ass out of yourself in front of all of his friends with jokes you were certain they would understand but most certainly didn’t, but you had just fallen so hard onto the slick wooden rink that you currently sat on a hard, cold bench watching the others twirling and spinning around to the music with a makeshift ice-pack pressed against your forehead (if you can call the cold cup that holds your Pepsi an ice-pack). something was better than nothing.

it was the hardest fall you’ve had since you could remember, the stars swirling behind your eyelids with every blink making it more than clear to you that you might even have a concussion. all you wanted was sleep. sleep and silence.

Grayson hadn’t been able to swing himself around fast enough to break your fall let alone stop the laughter ringing in your ears as soon as your knees bowed, the sound of you body hitting the ground fresh in your mind still. a harsh pang to your forehead was the one thing that still made you cringe from your place off the rink. it was mortifying to watch a girl no older than seven laughing at you as she wizzed by with ease, some ridiculous 2000′s pop song blaring over the speakers.

“it wasn’t that bad” Grayson had tried consoling you over and over in your ear as you made your way back to the side of the rink- trying your best to ignore the hoots and howls of his friends. he flipped them to bird with a scowl, but it didn't seem to make much difference as Collin raced by with a sly “nice one Peterson!”

“that was embarrassing,” you’d grumbled. you tried to ignore the sympathetic look he’d given you, only confirming that it was in fact” embarrassing.

warning off the tears moistening your eyes without your consent was harder than you’d thought. but falling in front of children and friends, and then crying about it was just not something you wanted to be a part of.

that had been thirty minutes ago. thirty minutes of miserable spinning and nausea. of course it was probably your own fault for pushing yourself out of you small box and trying something different for once. an ode to your clumsiness. you hated physical activity- no matter what aid the wheels could have given you and even if you had been holding Graysons hand for most of the night.

that part hadn’t been as challenging: clinging onto your boyfriends arm and laughing at your legs sliding across the floor similar to that of a baby deer with skates. there really wasn’t any difference, but he made your blush form from one of embarrassment, to flattery with every minute that passed.

all was well until he left you to fend for yourself, something that you were still trying to keep to yourself. yes you were hurt, but no you didn't need to take it out on him out of anger.

Grayson sat beside you still, an arm wrapped across your chest while you both leaned back against the white cinderblock wall behind you both. glancing up at the wooden shoe cubby made your stomach roll, prompting a bemused chuckle from the now yawning man holding you loosely against him.

“it’s not funny,” you grumble, shooting him a glare that wasted far too much energy, shuffling down to get closer to his warmth that always provided the most comfort when you weren’t feeling so good.

he merely looked down quickly with a shake of his head, lips pressed together to hide the grin, “of course it’s not. I was just laughing at Max still trying to seduce Trina. he just doesn't learn.”

nice save.

you looked out onto the rink lit up with flashing lights of every color, wondering what time it had to be and if the smaller than average establishment would be closing soon. you spot a wobbly looking Max across the way, trying (and slightly failing) to skate backwards next to Trina who now wore an annoyed scowl. if you were in better shape and a much better mood, you would say to hell with sitting on the bench hurt and save your mutual friend from the annoyance of the boy that just couldn’t take the hint. you would have thought after two years of failed attempts he would give it up and move on.

with a side eye at Grayson you know he must be thinking the same, but chose not to say anything further. that was a talk for another time. you make a mental note to have Grayson talk to max soon about his constant pestering to the poor girl that wanted nothing more than to “live her free life freely” as she had said so many times. you’re sure it’s just her nice way of saying no, but knew she was truly a free spirit and being tied down by someone as high maintenance as max wouldn't be the best idea.

but tonight, all your mind could think to long for was home. your big fuzzy blanket, Graysons flannel pj pants you’d claimed as your own, the oversized Harvard sweater your sister got for you as a gag gift for Christmas two years ago after getting your denial letter in the mail, Graysons hands rubbing the stress knots out of your shoulders, and a hot bath. you presumed you deserved a resting night after throwing yourself so far out of the box and then getting hurt from it.

the best thing about Grayson? he read you like a book.

“you ready to head out? I'll tell the boys I'll text them later, or do you want to try again?”

“I think trying again might not be the best idea,” you croak, removing the cup and revealing the goose egg bump on your forehead. you want to smack him when he cringes, but instead give him a small smile.

“yeah, killer, I think you’ve had enough,” he grins, leaning forward to press his lips on yours once, twice, then three times before he finally gets up to say his farewells to his friends, stretching as he does so.

you watch silently while he made his way around to everyone he could find, stopping next to Max to whisper something in his ear. when he pulled back, max looked ashamed, something that shouldn’t have given you as much pleasure as it did. serves him right for not listening.

-

“I'm proud of you for trying something new,” he mumbles once the both of you climb into his car, your water-down Pepsi long gone, the heat blasting to warm up your chilled fingertips.

you want to ignore him, not being one for praise or pity, but also thankful that he noticed your attempt at trying to have fun in more ways than just burying your head in a book. you know it made him happy to see you trying for him, and for that you would give him a real smile. one of content instead of anguish.

“I'm proud of you for finally having some fun,” you rebuttal, giving him the best ‘I'm okay’ smile that you could through the throbbing in your temples.  

his widened eyes and mock horror expression had you laughing harder than your headache agreed to, and you choke on that same laughter only a moment later.

“what exactly are you implying daisy?” he grumbled, turning the wheel to the right and backing out of the parking spot he squeezed himself into.

daisy. the best nickname anyone had ever given you.

“that you needed a break.”

“breaks are for the weak.”

“I think you mean smart gray,” you grab his hand without thinking, raising it to your lips with a soft glance over at the streetlight bouncing across the hazel of his irises, “you needed some friend time. Even if i ruined it with my stupid legs that don’t work and equally stupid jokes.”

“and you know what I think?”

“something dumb probably-” you fire before thinking, a joke of course. the pout he wore after was too hard to resist, your thumb finds his bottom lip without thinking to smooth them back with a fond smile.

“funny,” he smirked, “but I was going to say that you’re brave. You were very brave in letting people see you as you are and as you’ll always be, even if some of them didn’t get your jokes or loved you as much as i do.”

He said it softly, in a way that softened you to your core and sent a chill straight down your spine despite the hot air blasting from the vents. You fought the urge to curl in on yourself at the compliment, still not used to hearing such kind words even after all the time that you’ve been dating grayson who does nothing but compliment you and give you words of endearment. It was different, and sometimes scary.

“Hm i think you need some sleep,” is all you can bring yourself to say without sounding like a sappy hallmark card. You wanted to say more, something better than a witty remark - but could only allow yourself a small dose of something you’re not entirely sure how to handle. But you did know that you loved the way he looked over at you, noticing the high pitch of your voice and the way your hand seemed to squeeze his tighter. With a sigh of defeat he averts his eyes back to the orange tinted asphalt ahead, shaking his head with that same sheepish smile.  

“I’ve never been more awake.”

The silence that followed was serene. Something you both understood to be easy. You’ve never had easy.

For a moment you weren't the embarrassing girlfriend of a man much too kind for you.

For a moment you believed that something good might happen to people like you.

For a moment all the world was a warm car in winter, black ice car freshener, a frank sinatra song turned all the way down on three, and a thumb rubbing a pattern across your knuckles.

For a moment the world was good and it didn’t matter that the headache was full force, the streetlights too bright to your sensitive eyes, the car seeming to move in slow motion while the city whirred past your window.

For a moment all there was was eyes full of something other than amusement, something deeper, richer than you’d ever seen before.

For a moment you allowed your heart to thump out of rhythm in your chest, your head to fall against the headrest, your eyes to shut, and the rubbing of his thumb to lull you to sleep.