#a few days late but at the time of posting this but;

[orphee-aux-enfers]

@miggyluv your post is singlehandedly helping combat the last 510 and a bit days.

Non obligatory ramble under the cut but in short form: thank you so much for giving me a little bit of faith back in humanity.

My spouse is a UK citizen. I have lived about half of my life here via various set-ups. I l love the UK and thought it was my favourite place I'd ever lived, though I've yet to actually meet residency requirements due to visa types/tiers.

My current visa started 01 October 2023. Due to the holidays, we delayed our return from visiting family back to the UK, after a few months, away until 13 October 2023. Then 7 October happened. We were afraid to fly but needed to return or I'd forfeit my visa.

Arriving in the country was tragic in many ways. It was my spouse and I, and a bunch of shell-shocked, visibly Jewish people swamping Heathrow. We all looked so downtrodden, even the children who were the only people to smile at my spouse and I (other than a very excited border control agent who had never personally seen my current visa). Adults were trying to pretend that if we all just ignored each other we'd be less noticeable. I think it just made us all more miserable.

But, we arrived back in a place we'd called home for a While, sad, grieving, but we at first saw a lot of support for both sides initially -- and then it shifted. And since late October 2023, has ramped up, including our synagogue being regularly vandalised and protested. We no longer attend due to risk.

We lost most friends in January 2024 when we finally broached the subject with them and received that we were "far right" for supporting both an Israeli and a Palestinian state (aka a two state solution, historically something considered moderate). We've moved to a new town now, to escape the weekly to daily protests which could become at times quite hostile and now have escalated to full Holocaust inversion on a daily basis.

In our new flat, we've switched to DVDs and officially do not pay for a licence which funds the BBC, because of the most recent issues. I personally am bereft about this as the BBC was how I was taught to read the news, as a reliable global news source to compare back to. I don't trust them for anything, not now. So hearing it from you, too, not just other Jews? Revolutionary to my world view. I'm so sorry it comes with what Jews face for questioning the BBC for you as well. It isn't easy, and especially when it's your family, it's especially difficult. I think for me this makes your post all the more meaningful.

I was genuinely beginning to think no one would grow positively, only negatively, on this issue. I've experienced even British Jews refuse to engage with us because we are Mizrahi to them (though we're a mix due to a mix of heritage), and Mizrahi means Israeli to specifically young British Jews, and this is, to a small amount of them, apparently the most heinous evil.

Your attitude seems rare, or is rare in my life, and it is so, so meaningful to see. So, this is all to say, genuinely thank you for giving me this little bit of faith back. I had lost it, and I have needed it desperately, especially in the last few days.

I stopped wearing my Star of David. You've inspired me to try again in our new town. Thank you for that, too.

The moment for thinking “what would I have done in Germany before and during Hitler’s reign” is over. Look back over the past two years. What did you do? What did you think and feel?

Did your opinion about Jews change?

If you went from supporting all Jews to thinking that a least some Jews, (namely “Zionists” or “Israelis”) deserve suffering, exile, and/or death, then you fell for modern antisemitic propaganda, and you would’ve fallen for it in Nazi Germany, too.

Maybe you would blink if the police today started rounding up the Jews in your neighborhood, or smashing synagogues, or arresting Jews off the streets. But would you feel better about it if they call them Zionists or Israelis? They’re not arresting “good Jews”, they’re arresting Zionists, to make them pay for their crimes.

It’s not too late to fix that, though. You can come back from being sucked into antisemitism. You can do better going forward.

[achilles-rage]

Cookies

summary: you and buck bake cookies at 3am.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: hey... how y'all doing... i am finally making my comeback!! if you missed my post from yesterday (i answered a bunch of asks so now it's pretty far down there), i'm gonna be posting again, but probably less regularly. i've been stressing myself out i think by feeling the need to post a fic every 2/3 days, otherwise i feel like shit, so i'm trying to get away from that mindset, so i hope that less fics are okay!! i love and appreciate you guys so much!! anyway, enjoy<33

warnings: none, purely fluff, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

The light from the fridge casts a light across Buck’s face, harshly contrasting the dim light coming from the television as he opens the door to grab the ingredients he needs. 

“The butter needs to be room temperature,” he tells you sadly, glancing in your direction as he places the eggs and butter on the kitchen island. Your legs are dangling off the counter as you watch his every move, the cool counter pressing against the backs of your thighs in a way that makes you shiver in your sleepy state. 

It’s late; 2:30am the last time you checked, and you and Buck had the silly idea to pull an all-nighter, since you both have a few days off of work. Just like you used to do with your friends when you were kids.

“I’m sure they’ll be just as good. And, a lot better than store bought cookie dough,” you tell him with a soft laugh, rolling your eyes. 

Honestly, you’re just glad Buck has agreed to bake cookies for you this late. While you were watching a movie, the main character was making cookies, and suddenly you needed chocolate chip cookies. Like, immediately.

"Definitely better,” he says with a smirk, giving you a wink before pulling out the rest of the ingredients from the cupboards.

He helped you onto the counter before he began his work, telling you that he wanted to make them for you, and that all he needed from you was to sit there, look pretty, and keep him company. And with a face like that, how could you say no?

You watch as he measures out his dry ingredients, then mixes everything together, but he pauses every so often to give you gentle kisses, the ends of his curly hair tickling your forehead each time. When his hands aren’t somehow all sticky from the dough – you quickly learned how messy of a baker he was when you first started dating – he’d place a hand on your thigh, taking comfort in the warmth of your skin and the fact that he could feel the goosebumps under his palm. He always knows that you’re sleepy because you get cold, and your skin erupts in goosebumps.

“What do you think you’d be doing right now if we never met?” you ask quietly after a few moments of silence. He looks up at you from his bowl with furrowed brows, tilting his head to the side. 

“Is this the beginning of a breakup conversation?” he replies in a slightly teasing tone, although you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he studies your expression, and your body language, and your eyes.

Your eyes soften, and you immediately shake your head, giving him a reassuring smile as you hold your hand out. He reaches out for it, not letting it hang in the air for longer than a second or two, and lets you pull him forward until his body is positioned right between your legs, although with his hands all doughy, he opts to place his wrist under your palm.

“Baby, I have absolutely no intention of breaking up with you anytime soon. I was just thinking. How different would our lives be if we never met?” you say as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting your hands dangle behind his head as his lay on the counter on either side of you, making sure not to get your pajamas dirty from the dough covering his hands.

“They’d be very different. I’d be fast asleep right now, that’s for sure,” he teases with a cheeky smile. You laugh softly, rolling your eyes. It may have been your idea to pull an all-nighter, but he happily agreed that it would be fun. You didn’t even have to try to convince him.

“I’m serious,” you say with a laugh, leaning forward slightly, “I don’t know what I’d do if I never met you.” Your voice is softer now, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. You met Buck purely by chance, and you still think it’s a miracle that he took interest in you, despite him thinking the exact same thing about you.

“I’d be looking for you,” he says after a moment, shrugging as if it’s that simple. And to him, it is. 

Your eyes soften, and your head tilts to the side as your throat suddenly gets tight with your growing emotions.

“For me?” you ask in a teasing, yet slightly disbelieving tone, and he shrugs again with a nod. There’s no hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

“I’d be looking for someone who makes me happy, and who knows what I need without me even having to think to ask, and who is so beautiful that I can’t even believe that they’re with me. So, yeah, you.” You smile, feeling your face heat up. You can practically feel the love radiating from the deepest part of him and into your chest, and while your entire body suddenly feels warm, your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. Suddenly, you’re not so tired anymore.

“I’d be looking for you, too,” you reply, feeling tears prick your eyes as you lean forward and let your forehead rest against his. Buck has to keep a sliver of his mind occupied on not putting his hands on you, no matter how much he wants to feel your soft skin under his fingers. He wishes he washed his hands before coming over to you, but he wouldn’t have dared to let your hand stay raised in the air longer than a split second, just like he wouldn’t dare to part from you right now.

“Yeah?” he whispers, breathing in the faint scent of your body wash now that he’s so close. He wants to touch you so bad, and his self-restraint is wearing thin.

“Mhm. Except maybe without the snoring. I’ve never heard anyone that sleeps so loud.” You match his tone, letting out a soft laugh as he suddenly pulls his face back with a scoff, his brow raised and a smirk growing on his lips.

“Really? Because I seem to remember getting a text a few days ago saying that someone thought it was too quiet to sleep while I was at work,” he challenges, his eyes moving down to your lips for a second before moving back up to meet your gaze, the smug smirk still plastered to his face as you fight back a smile.

“I sent that in a moment of weakness,” you argue quietly, pursing your lips to stop the grin from making its way onto your face.

“Hey, come on, don’t pretend you don’t love it,” he continues, his hands now raised off of the counter and hanging in the air. They’re dangerously close to your waist; if he could touch you, he’d be tempted to tickle your sides to see that gorgeous smile grace your face, but he holds back. Instead, they just remain frozen, almost able to feel the warmth radiating from your soft body.

“I plead the fifth,” you tell him, reaching down and grabbing his wrists. You saw them out of the corner of your eye, full of dough and dangerously close to your pajama top, and the last thing you want to do is go upstairs and change.

You hold his wrists out between your bodies, and all Buck does is chuckle, rolling his eyes and murmuring a soft “brat” before leaning in and catching your lips in an intoxicating kiss. 

In the heat of the moment, you let go of Buck’s wrists, instead grabbing onto his hoodie and pulling him closer to you while your legs wrap around his waist, and he lets his hands go up to your cheeks. Neither of you notice at first, despite the sweet smell of brown sugar filling your nostrils, and he deepens the kiss, letting his lips work in tandem with yours as he savours the feel and taste of your mouth on his. 

Your noses brush against each other as you tilt your heads, and a low hum escapes Buck’s throat as his tongue meets yours when you part your lips. All you can focus on is each other as the oven beeps behind you, signalling that it’s time to put your cookies in, and Buck’s stubble scratches your face in a way that makes your head spin. You’re pretty sure the fire alarm could go off right now, and you still wouldn’t part from him.

You finally have to pull away to catch your breath, and when you do, you finally notice that your cheeks are now sticky. You giggle softly, and you can’t bring yourself to be upset with Buck about it. Not when he just kissed you like his life depended on it.

“Finish my cookies, Buckley,” you whisper after a moment of looking into each other's eyes, and then he finally pulls away from you, immediately missing the feeling of your thick thighs wrapped around him.

“Yes ma’am,” he murmurs, then dumps the chocolate chips into the mixture before mixing, humming in approval when they’re fully combined.

You take this time to wash the dough off your skin; not bothering to go upstairs to actually wash your face, rather merely using a wet paper towel over the sink to wipe off the residue. You know you’ll regret it later, but right now, you wouldn’t dream of being that far away from Buck. Not when the soft light from the tv mixes with the overhead oven light, and the soft sound coming from the credits of the movie envelopes the main floor of Buck’s loft and makes you feel so safe and calm.

When the cookies are in the oven, Buck helps raise you back up onto your spot on the counter, then makes himself at home between your legs, wrapping his arms around your plush middle and resting his head comfortably on your shoulder. You wrap your arms around his shoulders immediately, letting him melt into you as you wait for the timer. The steady feeling of his breath on your skin makes you feel even more at ease, if at all possible.

You don’t talk for those 10 minutes; you just bask in each other's presence. It’s past 3am now, you’re sure of it, but neither of you care. All you care about is how good it feels to be in Buck’s arms, and to know that you’ve found someone to bake cookies with in the middle of the night, just because you felt like it. Someone to bake cookies for you despite being so tired. Just because he loves you so deeply.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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[deadpanjisung]

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡  ult ♡ˎˊ˗ ༚ ✧ ˳⁺⁎

pairing: seo changbin x afab!reader 

MDNI!!!

wc: 5.6k

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆..。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆..:・°

general cw: swearing, smut!!, fluff, cats, allergies, a lil humor, use of y/n.

smut cw: making-out, descriptive sex, changbin is a simp, teasing, unprotected sex (pls don’t), mentions of oral sex, cre4mpie.

a/n: this was supposed to be a Valentine's Day fic but i couldn't find the mood to post it till now. feedback is encouraged ◡̈

i hope you enjoy♡

-˚₊‧꒰ა ginny ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・☆.。.:・

Copyright Ⓒ 2025 by deadpanjisung

All rights reserved. Translating, Reposting or any type of appropriation is not permitted.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

You were sitting at your usual meeting spot, feeling the cold, metal park bench against your exposed thighs. It was later than your usual meeting time, the lamp posts illuminated you and the passing families on their way to the philharmonic performance. You debated meeting him at the stage instead, but it felt wrong to you. This bench had been your meeting point ever since you met Seo Changbin while sitting on it more than a decade ago. Changbin was very different to you, he was a natural charmer, undoubtedly a born performer. You always shied away from being the center of attention (“my quiet little mouse” Changbin remarked).

You were sitting on that same bench when Changbin sat next to you and asked if you were okay. Then, he asked why you were alone. He talked your ear off that afternoon. You were still in high school by then, he talked about his training to be an idol, his family, his friends. You listened attentively; it was strange for you to meet someone your age who had such a busy lifestyle. Your sister went to find you when it got too late, and you still hadn’t arrived at your house. Changbin waved you off with a quick, “nice to meet you!”. 

You returned the next afternoon and to your surprise, Changbin was already sitting there (“Ah! I’m glad you came back! I forgot to ask if you wanted to hang out again. You looked comfortable here yesterday, so I figured I’d come back.” He said with a smile). You were even more surprised at the fact that he wanted to see you again. You gave him your number and agreed to meet there thrice a week after school and between his practices. It took you a while to open up, you weren’t used to feeling seen or heard by someone. But Changbin knew how you felt with just a look.

Your meetings at the bench became more limited after he debuted. Being reduced from thrice a week, to once a week, to once a month to once every few months, to once a year, if you were lucky. You and Changbin still texted occasionally, and even more rarely called each other for your birthdays or other important events. Changbin was there for you through your biggest achievements and your biggest losses, and you were there for his, even at a distance. It had been two years since you last saw Changbin, your schedules hadn’t lined up for you to meet. You were shocked when he asked you to meet over the summer, when he had some time off to stay with his family. 

“HEY, Y/N!” He shouted, sprinting over when he spotted you. You stood up and extended your arms with a blush rising on your cheeks. He hugged you tightly, lifting you up and spinning you around, placing a sweet kiss on your head.

“I think this is the second happiest time I’ve been to see you here.” He said as he lowered you down to your feet. 

“Oh really? When was the first?” You asked as he sat down on the bench.

“The second time I saw you here, when I didn’t even have your number or know where you lived or studied or if I’d see you again!” He remarked, you smiled at that and signaled him to get up.

“I was shocked when you came back that day.” You said and you started walking next to each other. “I missed you, Bin. How have you been?” You took a second to look at him, the same light posts you had seen many times before illuminating his features. It seemed to you that he was bulking up, his hair was dyed a dark purple color, he was dressed in all black as you expected him to be. 

“‘M good! Tired but it’s been nice.” He replied. “And you? I love that skirt on you! It’s so cute, you almost looked like an idol.” You blushed at that comment. It was a blue floral summer set, different from your usual attire.

“Ah, thank you. Well, I’ve been better, if I’m being honest.” You said, looking at the floor in front of you. “Work has nearly been killing me so I’m glad to have some time off this summer.” 

“I’ll make sure you rest well. I can take care of you.” He said, proudly. “I take care of my members all the time now. I’m their favorite chef.”

“Oh? You are?” You asked in disbelief. He looked away, embarrassed. Changbin placed a facemask over his mouth and nose.

“WHAT?  You don’t believe me? Well, okay…. maybe I’m their second favorite chef…” He mumbled; you chuckled. You looked in front of you to see the stage already full of people. You walked the rest of the way in silence and stood in the far back to avoid drawing attention to yourself. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “I missed being here with you. I love you, Y/N-nnie.” 

“Me too, Bin. It’s been a while. I’m happy to see you looking so healthy.” He smiled at that comment, you knew Changbin took a lot of pride in taking care of himself. 

The performance started, you and Changbin didn’t speak again until it was over. 

“Did you walk here?” He asked. You nodded. Your family’s house was close to the park and your apartment was even closer. “Can I drive you back?” You nodded again. “I know it’s late but, are you hungry?” He knew you had a habit of skipping dinner when you had plans.

“Just a little… I ate before coming.” you replied. 

“My sister recommended a stand that makes good tteokkochi at the end of the street. We can walk by it and I’ll take you home.” He spoke. You nodded.

“How was the tour?” You asked. He started talking about the places he went to, the songs they played, how he got sick once and had to skip a performance, how he went to a concert on one of their free days, The songs they worked on, how Seungmin made him angry one day and he had to apologize for lashing out…

You arrived at the stand, it looked a bit run down but an auntie was making and serving the tteokkochi, so you knew it would be good. She asked you what you wanted, you both got two servings.

Changbin insisted on paying for the food, taking out the precise amount before you could protest. You rolled your eyes, but it usually went like that. Changbin would never let you pay despite your insisting. You often repaid him by delivering food to his studio sessions when you were close by.

He walked next to you in comfortable silence. During the decade that you’ve known each other, you have met hundreds of times at this same park, and you talked each other’s ears off. Nonetheless, you also learned to feel equally pleasant in moments of silence. The streets were illuminated mostly by different shop’s led lights. You looked at your feet as you walked while Changbin looked at you. 

“Do I have something on my face?” You asked and giggled. Changbin’s face reddened. He nervously laughed.

“No, you don’t.” He answered. “I’m realizing that I’ve missed you a lot.” It was your turn to blush. 

“Me too, Bin. This is the longest we’ve been without seeing each other, I think.”

“And way too long. I should take more time off.” He added. 

“So, my sister just had a baby. He’s about as old as your nephew.” You said, as you walked forward, spotting Changbin’s car in the distance. 

“Really? Congrats, auntie!” He exclaimed. 

“Shut up! I’m not that old yet!” You protested, he gave a hearty laugh as he took his keys out of his pockets to unlock his car. 

You slipped in the passenger seat of his sports car, wondering why someone would have a car this low. He smiled when he saw you struggling. 

“I forgot you don’t like sports cars.”

“I absolutely despise them.” You agreed. There was silence, the sounds of the night where barely noticeable; the faint music coming from the radio was almost identifiable. 

“So, are you still seeing that guy? The French guy that worked at the hospital.” He asked, nonchalantly when he drove off.

“Louis?” You corrected him. “No. He moved back to France last year when he finished his residency.” You shrugged it off. You and Changbin rarely spoke about your flings unless they were serious. He had casually met Louis the last time you saw each other when you ran into him at the park. 

“Are you still seeing the makeup artist?” You asked, he shook his head. 

This was the first time in the last five years or so that you and Changbin had both been single at the same time. You felt nervous, like your heart was dropping. You had always had a bit of a crush on him, but you were sure that he never reciprocated your feelings. You tried burying your crush for him, but it wasn’t as easy when you were right next to him. You felt your palms get sweaty as he pulled up at your place.

“Hey… Can I come in?” He asked suddenly, making you snap out of your thoughts.

“Yeah.” You smiled, “It’s a bit messy, but I was going to ask you anyways.” He smiled at that. You hadn’t openly planned to see him again during the summer. You feared having such a short meeting after two years without seeing him. 

He opened the car door for you, you didn’t expect anything less from Seo Changbin, professional gentleman. Changbin had an extra key to your house, as your closest friend. Nonetheless, he had never used it to let himself in.

You walked up to the front door with your best friend close behind you, hands buried in his jean’s pockets. Your hands trembled as you unlocked your old-fashioned door. You stepped in; suddenly conscious of the empty glass of water on your counter, the coat you discarded on the floor, the mess of books on your coffee table, the scattered toys your cat left. Did you take out the trash before you left? Did you clean the litter box? Where is Alfred? Will Changbin be deathly allergic to him? Why did you forget to mention you had a cat?

He stepped in behind you and took in your house, feeling coziness and a twitch in his nose.

“Ah, Binnie, I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you that I have a cat now! Do you want something for your allergies?” You asked.

“Yeh. Weren’t you more of a dog person, though?” He replied. “Where’s the little fella anyways?” You walked towards your medicine cabinet and took out a generic allergy pill for him.

“I love dogs too.” You answered. “My sister found Alfred in front of her office and asked if I could foster him because she was super pregnant at the time… and after, like, a day I fell in love with him.” He laughed.

“You’re always so sensible. That’s probably my favorite part of…” He interrupted himself by chugging down the pill with a glass of water. You blushed and you spotted Alfred apprehensively approaching the kitchen. The bright, long-haired orange kitty stood out amongst your darker furniture and decoration. 

“There he is! He’s shy at first so don’t make too much noise.”

“Are you calling me out for being loud?” He asked and chuckled but kept down his voice to your request. You tried to approach Alfred, but he ran away to his favorite hiding place, inside the hallway closet. “Is he scared of me?” Changbin’s demeanor changed, looking almost disappointed. 

“Cats are pretty different from dogs, so he probably is scared of you, but to no fault of your own.” You answered. “You’ll win him over by giving him some space.”

“Ah, even better. You know I’m scared of the cats anyways.” He said and sinking down onto your familiar sofa. “So, how have you been?”

“I’m okay, I think… I think I had told you last time, but I work at a different library now, you know, the one that’s inside the University...” You spoke.

“I remember you telling me that you changed jobs, but I don’t think you told me it was at the university library.”

“Ah, well, yeah. I’m the director now…. But I started when I still didn’t have my master’s.” You added.

“Right! You graduated last year, right?” He asked, raising his voice a little bit. You nodded. He reached into his bag and took out a small, black pull-on pouch. “I saw Han Jisung wearing one of these and I asked him to get you one… It’s not much, but it reminded me of you.” He placed the small bag on the couch, in between you two. You opened the bag to see a box with the writing ‘Vivienne Westwood’ on it.

“You didn’t!” You exclaimed. He smiled, feeling more confident after that. You opened the box to see a collar with black beading and the characteristic Vivienne Westwood pendant. “Thank you. This must’ve costed you a fortune, you didn’t have to get me something so expensive… I appreciate anything you do for me.” 

“I know. But I also know that you’ve been eyeing one of these for years.” He replied. “I’d get everything I could for my closest, bestest friend.” You blushed.

“Ah, Binnie. I appreciate this so much. But I could never ever repay this…”

“I never expect you to repay anything to me.” Changbin interrupted. “Your friendship is way more valuable to me than any silly material thing I’ll ever give to you. This is just a teeny tiny gift for all you’ve done for me.”

“Bin…” You said. “I feel bad for not having anything for you.”

“How about a big warm hug, then?” He negotiated. 

You complied and wrapped your arms around Changbin’s neck. He wrapped his warm arms around your waist. The position was a bit awkward, since you were both sitting down but you felt comfortable. Your heart was beating faster than usual, with his familiar warmth calmed you down. You felt his big, warm hands on your back where your shirt rose up. His palms were sweaty against your skin. The hug lasted more than you expected, the light smell of his perfume was nice and comforting to you. His chest was soft against yours and he gently caressed your back with his calloused hands. He placed a soft kiss on the shoulder his head rested on, which brought goosebumps to your skin. He surely felt them on your back because he stopped caressing it. 

His breath briefly ghosted on your neck as he pulled away from the hug. You let go of him and took your time pulling away. His eyes met yours as you both leaned back. You felt butterflies in your stomach for the first time in years. Changbin nervously chuckled and he slouched on the couch, sighing. 

“Y/N?” His voice was barely a whisper, opposed to his usual loud self. “Have you ever thought about… kissing… me? Forget I said anything, I’m crazy!” He cut himself off. The question took you aback, you didn’t expect such a direct interrogation. 

“It depends…” You decided to tease him. “Have you ever thought about kissing me? Am I really that unappealing that you think you’re crazy for thinking that?” 

“No! You’re amazing, the best. You’re my favorite person in this whole world. I think about kissing you all the time.” He confessed with a crimson blush on his cheek. 

“Okay. Good.” You said. “I think about kissing you all the time as well.” 

“R-really?” He asked, eyes wide in disbelief. 

“Well, duh. You’re an absolute dreamboat.” You replied. His shyness turned into a smirk. “Sweet, talented and cute, too? I’d be dumb not to want to kiss you.”

“Stop it! You’re making me melt!” He shouted. “You’re so pretty, so smart… You’re my best friend. You know…”

“Just best friend?” You asked.

“No, Y/N. Not just my best friend. I like you a lot.” He replied sweetly, averting your gaze. You reached for his hand. 

“Hey. I really like you, Bin.” You added, he looked into your eyes again. 

“Yeah?” He smirked, maintaining eye-contact with you. His brown eyes were glossy.

“Yeah.” You replied and leaned towards him. Changbin met you in the middle and pressed his lips on yours. 

His beautiful doll lips were soft against your, admittedly, chapped ones. You were sure that your matte lipstick made your lips feel weird, but you didn’t mind. Changbin rested his warm hand against your left cheek. He lightly caressed your cheek as the kiss deepened. His taste was bitter, you could make out that he drunk a beer before meeting with you. He broke the kiss. 

“I planned to tell you tonight, by the way.” He commented. “But I was really nervous…”

“Bin… How could I not have feelings for you?” You remarked. “You were always ‘the one that got away’ for me. I kinda had no hope that you actually liked me back.” He chuckled.

“We sound like teenagers, don’t we?”

“We do. It’s weird how we went from casually saying ‘I love you’ to barely being able to say ‘I like you’.” You said in between laughs. He giggled. 

“It is so weird.” 

“I love you and I like you too.”  You said. “I’ll always love you as my best friend in the universe.”

“I think it’s safe to say that I’ll always love you too.” He added. “And that I really like you too.”

He leaned into you and softly presses his lips on yours for a quick peck. 

“So…” 

So…?”

You grabbed his face in your hands and kissed him again. This time harder and deeper. He kissed you back and placed his hands on your waist. He used his hand placement to guide you to sit on his lap. He moaned into the kiss when he felt your body against his. Changbin kept his hands on your waist, sliding them up and down your plush sides. You experimentally ground your hips against his crotch. You could feel his growing erection even through the heavy material of his jeans. You gasped into the kiss when Changbin when he grabbed at your waist. 

“This feels surreal.” He said, looking straight into your eyes. “My heart is beating so fast.”

“Oh, Binnie… I am so lucky to have you in my life.”

He moaned into your mouth as you kept grinding your hips against his. Changbin’s jeans felt heavenly against your thin underwear. Changbin thrusted upwards to meet your hips while his lips captured yours in a passionate kiss. He moved his hands under your skirt, looking at you in search of approval. You nodded. You felt his hands cup your almost-bare ass, since your panties had ridden up from the grinding. You moaned at the feeling of his familiar touch in such an unfamiliar place. He squeezed your ass, encouraging you to keep grinding on him. You quickened your pace and Changbin let out a hearty grunt. 

“O-oh… Oh... b-baby, I need you to stop.” He whined. “I need you to stop or I’ll cum. I want to be inside you, baby. I … can’t.” You obliged, halting your movements. Changbin pressed his forehead against yours, sweaty and panting. “Thank you, darling.” You blushed, taking in the absolute vision in front of you.

Changbin looked beautiful like this, so raw, so messy. Unlike how you usually saw him lately: with his hair full of hairspray and a face full of makeup. He had his face bare; his lips were swollen and his hair was curling up from the sweat and humidity. 

“Is everything okay?” He interrupted your thoughts. You nodded, making him sigh in relief. “Good. I thought you were regretting it already.” You chuckled.

“As if! You’re stuck with me now, sorry.” You replied.

“Sorry? That’s like a dream come true, baby.” He placed a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“You’re making me blush so bad, Bin. I feel like a schoolgirl again.” You remarked. “Like when we met, I was so giggly and dumb.”

“Are you kidding? I could barely get a reaction from you at first! It took like ten minutes for you to laugh!” He disagreed.

“I couldn’t let my guard down that easily.” You said, he placed a kiss on your shoulder. “Bin?”

“Hm?”

“I love that we’re reminiscing and all. But I’m, like, super wet…”

“Oh!”

“Yeah…”

“Your wish is my command, darling.” He said, “To be fair. I’m hard as fuck, too.” You chuckled.

You stood up and extended your hand to him, he took it and stumbled as he stood up. You led him into your bedroom, not missing Alfred’s scrambling from inside your closet. Changbin sneezed as he walked by. Your heart fell a little bit, you can’t really imagine life without Changbin or Alfred. Could they eventually co-exist?

“Hey.” He said, looking at you. You stopped in front of your room to stare at the closet where Alfred spent most of his time at. “I know what you’re thinking. I don’t really like cats but, I’ll try super hard with him! I promise. Minho hyung taught me about exposure to reduce my allergies. I guess I’ll have to meet his cats when I’m away from here so I can build up my strength!”

“Thanks, Bin. That means a lot to me.” You said with a sigh of relief. “You’re really sweet.”

“Of course! I know you, you love him, so I’ll love him too. Even if I must get scratched and drink ten allergy pills every time I come here. You know I love a challenge.”

“Shhhh! You’ll make me cry.” 

“Okay, okay! Let’s get sexy again.”

You chuckled as he took the lead to open your room’s door. Your room was cozy, the bed was well made and adorned with different pillows. There were three bookcases filled with books of all types of genres. Changbin had never been in your room before, limiting his visits to your kitchen and living room. You had a rosemary odor eliminator that attempted to cover the old book smell that wasn’t too appealing to your own allergies. You crouched down to grab a book that, seemingly, Alfred knocked down. 

“Sorry in advance for the upcoming messes you’ll see. Alfred loves throwing things on the floor.” You said, he chuckled, smitten to be able to see such an intimate side of you. Your bedroom. You had a chair next to one of your bookshelves, a reading nook, he supposed. 

“C’mon! Did you ever visit the 3Racha dorm?” He asked. “My dorm is only presentable now because Hyunjin cares about aesthetics or whatever. You’ll have to come visit us soon. Hyunjin asks me about you every other day.”

You smiled. You loved the fact that Changbin was already planning for you to spend time with him back at his place. You had only been able to visit him a handful of times when he lived at his old dorm. You visited Changbin whenever his group had a concert or fanmeet in Korea. Nonetheless, the last two years of your grad school life wouldn’t let you see him. 

“Okay. I said sexy time, right? That’s not too sexy.” He remarked with a smirk. You chuckled. 

“Okay! Let’s concentrate. We can do this!” 

He laughed. You still wanted him, of course you did. But you were so enamored with the idea of starting a new relationship with someone you had liked for such a long time that it made the sex shift to a second place. You had a feeling that he was going through something similar. You laid down on your bed and he followed your suit. You shifted to your side and looked over at him. 

He leaned over to you and kissed you once again. You deepened the kiss and took your chance to tug at his shirt. He took it off, in silent agreement. You nearly drooled when you saw his bare chest. His muscles were defined, yet soft. His shoulders looked even broader with his shirt off, his pecks were big and defined. His abdomen was strong, with a trail of hair that led to his pants. 

“Like what you see?” He smirked, raising his eyebrows at you. You nodded, unable to come up with a snarky comment. “Can I?” He placed his hands on your own top. You nodded again. Changbin swiftly took your top off with your assistance. He gawked at how your breasts sat in your bra. 

“You’re staring.” You snarked. 

“How can I not? Have you any idea how much I’ve waited to see your boobs?” He said, making grabby hands at them. You chuckled and took his hands in yours, leading them to feel your breasts. His hands were warm and clammy against the skin that spilled from your bra. 

Your nipples were hard against the thin, silky fabric of your bra. You were sure that he could feel them, when he started caressing them specifically. You reached behind you to unclasp your bra. Changbin looked almost cross-eyed when he first saw your bare chest.

He took no time in leaning forward, capturing one of your hard buds in his mouth. You moaned at the feeling of his hot lips around your cold nipple. He moaned around your nipple, and you felt your wetness spread through your folds. Your panties were completely soaked when he reached to stimulate your other nipple, tugging it harshly.

You moaned at his touch. Your body felt ablaze against his touch. He leaned forward without separating from your breast. You laid on your back as he hovered above your figure. His free hand reached under your skirt to caress your inner thighs. 

His digits found their way to press against your wetness. His lips shifted from one of your breasts to the other, sucking dark marks into them. He slipped his calloused fingers into you, slow and softly. Your body melted into his touch, accepting the foreign feeling of his fingers inside of you. You moaned at the feeling, unable to suppress your moans. 

“Do you like that, darling? Am I making you feel good?” He praised, his voice was raspy and breathless. You responded with a gasp. His lips found yours and you, once again, moaned into the kiss. You felt him smile against you. Changbin quickened the pace that his fingers, slipping in and out of you. The stretch of his fingers inside of you made you moan hard. Changbin stopped and checked up on you. You gave him a thumbs up.

“B-Binnie, d-don’t stop, please. I’m so unbelievably close.” You pleaded; he didn’t move. He had a thoughtful expression.

“Sorry, baby.” He said as he slid his fingers out of you. “You’re only cumming around me tonight. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” Butterflies eroded in your stomach when you heard him. “Is that okay?” You nodded quickly, tugging at the waistband of his dark jeans. 

He obliged, undoing the button and zipper that held them together. You didn’t pay mind at his underwear as he slipped them off swiftly. He smirked at your reaction. You gawked at his dick; it was thick, veiny and very, painfully hard. Your fingers danced against it, and it twitched in response, leaking a generous amount of pre-cum. You opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue for him. He shook his head.

“I won’t last a second if I go there.” He said. Changbin reached over to his jeans and took out his wallet. “Ah, Y/N-nnie… I forgot, I kind of… gave my last condom to Jeongin-ah… as a joke.” He blushed. 

“Let me see if I have any.” You spoke. You turned over to dig inside your night table. “Shit. I gave the ones I had here to a friend because they were about to expire…”

“Fuck.”

“I mean…” You said as you slammed the drawer. “I’m clean and I drink birth control as a, uh, habitual thing…” 

“Are you suggesting that I go in raw?” He asked, you nodded.

“Only if you’re okay with it, of course.” You added. He stared at your pussy for a second, caressing its folds. 

“Okay, yeah. Fuck it. I’ll just pull out.” He said, grabbing his dick with his free hand. You laid back down. He positioned his dick against your sticky folds, dragging his angry head against your puffy clit. You whined at the feelings of his pre-cum on your own wetness.

“Baby. I want you inside.” You begged. “At least let me suck your cock.” He shook his head once again, instead positioning his hard member at your entrance. He gathered your wetness, not that he needed to.

He realized how truly drenched you were when he started sliding into you. Even with his impressive girth, his cock slipped in with ease and eagerness. You both groaned at the unexpected feeling. He bottommed out inside of you, the foreign feeling incited him to whisper sweet nothings in your ear in between kisses.

He took his sweet time to adjust to your tightness, you clenched your hips in order to feel some friction. He was holding his weight with his arms on each side your your head. Taking his time to enjoy your expressions as well, even forgetting that he has to thrust to feel maximum pleasure.

Changbin was never good at multi-tasking, but this time, he felt nirvana just by being inside of you. A feeling so strange, so lovely and so mesmerizing. He felt unable to move, he wanted to remain inside you for eternity. You squirmed underneath him and he, involuntarily, thrusted harshly. He earned a sweet, sultry moan from you. He was sure that listening to you moan is his favorite sound.

“B-bin. Please move, baby. I’m going to cum if you don’t.” You cried. He started thrusting, softly; he didn’t want to hurt you. Your head already felt fuzzy, full of Changbin. What a beautiful timeline, one that you and Changbin loved each other. You felt unbelievably close to him, the closest you’ve ever been to anyone in your life. 

“F-fuck, darling You’re taking me so well. You’re really soaked, my baby.” He panted against your ear, his hot breath made you shiver. “Have you been waiting for me for long?” It didn’t seem like a question to you, more like an affirmation to himself. “You’re my gorgeous angel. I’m never letting you go, you do know… fuck...” You moaned against his lips, capturing them in a heated kiss. You felt dizziness, knowing that your climax was impending. 

“B-bin. Binnie. Changbin.”

“Yeah.” He moaned. “Say my name, baby!”

“Binnie! I’m going to cum.”

“F-fuck! Me too. Can I cum inside you? I promise it’ll be the last time.”

You nodded fervently; the heat of the moment took the best of you. He thrusted deeper and faster, as he came over the edge, spilling thick, hot ropes of his seed in the depths of your core, of your soul.

You rubbed your clit, but feeling Changbin’s ardent cum inside you was more than enough to take you over the edge as well. You spasmed against him, your vision blurry and your orgasm lasting more than usual. Once you rode your orgasm, Changbin carefully slipped out of you and laid down next to you.

“Are you my girlfriend now, by the way?” He asked with a laugh, panting as he caught his breath. He looked at you expectantly. 

“Are you asking me?”

“I don’t know if it’s too soon, but yeah.”

“Hm...” You pondered. “If we didn’t know each other like we do, I think it would be too soon.”

He stayed silent.

“In other words: yeah, I’m your girlfriend.” You confirmed. He gave you a sheepish smirk.

“Han Jisung is not going to believe this.” He sang. You looked at him, confused. “He’s been wanting to ask you out for, like, ever.”

“Oh, nice. I know who I can go to if we break up, then.” You joked. He groaned. 

“Baby! That’s not funny at all!” He whined but laughed.

“I’m just kidding, Bin. Do you know who’s cum is inside me right now?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me or I’ll get hard again! What an artwork.” He said, pressing his head into your neck. “I have no self-control around you.” You snickered. 

“Trust me, me neither.”

“Ah, Y/N-nnie. I hope you don’t regret this.”

“I won’t.”

That was all the reassurance he needed. Changbin carried you to the bathroom and helped you wash up. He kissed you good night and prayed that what you had would last forever. He felt a sense of completion, like he needed to thank the universe for this moment. Changbin held you all night, though he could barely sleep. 

You woke up early in the morning, with an empty space beside you. You rubbed your eyes and hesitantly made your way out of the room. You could smell eggs and onions and rice. Changbin was serving an omelette with rice for you.

“Ah! wakey wakey, baby! I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed!” Changbin shouted. You smiled at him.

“This is even better.” You said, in all honestly. You noticed that Alfred was standing closer to Changbin today.

“Who would’ve known that feeding him would make him like me!” Changbin added. You chuckled.

“Binnie, I missed you too much.” You walked over him. 

He placed a kiss on your lips, softly, and you felt the universe. 

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・☆.。.:・

Copyright Ⓒ 2025 by deadpanjisung

All rights reserved. Translating, Reposting or any type of appropriation is not permitted.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

[hellvst]

OFFSEASON – quinn hughes

featuring ; quinn hughes x fmc (sydney gray)

✮⋆˙ warning & content ; swearing

✮⋆˙ word count ; 4.7k

✮⋆˙ previous chapter – series masterlist – next chapter

a/n ; quinn is playing + canucks won yesterday against la? we are soo back! i kinda forgot to give simon a face claim...oops! but, i did have an idea or picture him to look similar to kevin fiala or roman josi, i just can't find a face claim for him. it's up to your imagination as well! happy reading <3

CHAPTER TWO

SYDNEY

My alarm went off multiple times within the past fifteen minutes, and kept hitting the snooze button each time it did. So much for wanting to wake up early this morning.

I fluttered my eyes open, adjusting to the natural light through the window.

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the dull ache in my right leg. It wasn’t a sharp pain–more like a persistent stiffness, reminding me that no matter how much progress I made, and lots of physiotherapy sessions, I wouldn’t always feel one hundred percent.

There was no point in dwelling on it. I had a busy day ahead, and self-pity wasn’t on the agenda. Not today.

I ungracefully got out of bed–did some stretches, single-leg squats, and hopped on one foot.

Nothing some movement wouldn’t fix.

The discomfort usually disappeared once I got my body moving. Truly odd, but if it got me through the day, I was not going to complain.

I moved through my morning routine with muscle memory. A quick shower, skin care, matching black compression set, an oversized hoodie thrown on without much thought, and tied my hair into a ponytail.

By the time I made it to the kitchen, the coffee machine was already doing its magic. As I waited, I flipped the TV on in the living room out of habit as I did every morning. 

The post-game analysis was still running from last night’s Canucks-Oilers’ game. I wasn’t surprised that this was the first thing that popped up on the screen, considering it’s been a while since my hometown, Vancouver, had made a playoff appearance. It was a huge deal for the city.

I caught a whiff of the last few minutes after getting home late from the studio–just in time to witness the whole debacle unfold. 

My brother, Simon, and his teammate.

The miscommunication. The puck hitting the post. The loss.

A blown play that cost them a ticket to conference finals. 

Now, every analyst, reporter, or fan was commenting and dissecting it.

“This was a complete breakdown,” one of the reporters began. “Simon Gray and Quinn Hughes were on totally different pages the entire game. You can’t have your best forward and your top defensemen out of sync in the most important moments–”

I turned the TV off and took a sip of my coffee, already knowing how that played out. My stomach was tightening at the sight of Simon after the buzzer went off.

Before the game, I sent him a short and simple ‘good luck!’, and haven’t heard from him since. Fair enough, given the outcome of the game.

Simon was going to be miserable for days, maybe weeks, more likely the entire summer. My brother was going to be impossible to deal with after that. And if history has taught itself, he was going to blame others for his mistakes. He always did.

I looked at the time, almost choking on my coffee, “Shit.”

I was running late for my first private session of the day, and Phoebe–one of my regular clients–was going to get there before me. Again.

If someone had asked me years ago what I saw myself doing, being a Pilates instructor wouldn’t even make the list. But life has a way of throwing you in places you’d never expect.

It started after the incident, I don’t talk about it much–there was nothing left to say. It happened. It definitely changed things. And for a very long time, I felt lost in my own body, like going through motions without purpose.

Doctors and my physiotherapist gave me exercises, stretches, and a never-ending list of things to “try”. Nothing clicked. Nothing felt right.

Until, I stepped into my first Pilates class. I remembered feeling a bit skeptical at first, convinced it was another trendy workout–the one all the girls tried out. It was the first time in a long time I felt connected to myself again. 

I kept going. I got better. And then I got really good. Good enough that one day, the owner of the studio I’d been training at, pulled me aside and asked if I ever thought about teaching. 

I laughed at the time, but the idea lingered that it stuck. And here I was: an instructor at Lumé Wellness–the top studio branch in Vancouver–fully booked for the summer, doing what I love.

The studio wasn’t that far from my apartment, twenty minutes tops without traffic which most days I was thankful for.

By the time I made it to the studio, sure enough, Phoebe was already inside one of the private rooms, stretching on the mat.

She raised an eyebrow at me as I put my bag down. “Would it kill you to be on time for once?” Phoebe teased, pulling her dark curls into a bun.

I rolled my eyes and started stretching beside her. “It’s five minutes.”

She shrugged and wiggled her brows, “Five minutes that I spent wondering if you were late because a guy kept you up last night.”

“Oh my God,” I groaned with a smile. “Don’t start this again, Phoebe.”

All she did was grin, absolutely delighted at the sight of my suffering. Phoebe was in her late forties, a social butterfly with too much energy for the morning slot, and too much curiosity for her own good. 

Plus the fact she was newly single and thriving in the chaos of her impending divorce, loved to poke at my non-existing dating life. She was a sucker for drama, and if my love life–or lack thereof–could provide her entertainment, she’d without a doubt take it.

“Oh come on, humor me, Syd. There has to be someone,” she said, settling onto the reformer. “You’re giving off the ‘I’m seeing someone new’ glow.”

I scoffed at her. “That ‘glow’ you’re referring to is just the new overhead lighting.”

She snorted then sighed dramatically as I adjusted her stance, “You know, you should really make time for some fun.”

“I have fun.” I argued.

“Pilates and binge-watching The Office at home doesn’t count.”

She got me there.

We continued on with our session. Usually with Phoebe, time flies so fast when all she did was rant about her life–pestering me about mine–but she eventually let it go once we began the harder exercises.

I barely got a moment to breathe before moving on to my bigger group session. To my luck, this group was breeze to get through as they followed my exercises on the reformer with ease. Not to mention, the music blasting through the speakers in the studio allowed them to get into that rhythm which was helpful as well.

Just when the last song ended, the group of ladies’ chests heaved, the room was filled with breaths of exhaustion, and a few went straight for their water bottles.

“Alright, ladies! Great work today! Hope to see you in our next class.”

They all left one by one, saying ‘bye’ on their way out, until I was the only one left.

Two or three classes to teach in the mornings usually had me working around lunch.

And by then, I was starving. 

My routine was pretty much the same, there was not a lot to do with an hour break. But, most days consisted of grabbing a quick meal at the nearest bistro or cafe with my closest friend. As I was about to pick up my things off the floor, my phone in my pocket buzzed.

Speak of the devil herself.

“Hey, Diane,” I answered, tucking my phone in between my ear and shoulder as I packed.

“Are we still on for lunch? I’m already at the café.”

I heard the faint lively sounds of the city of Vancouver in the background. “Yeah, I’m about to leave the studio and make my way–”

“Sydney?”

Right as I was trying to make a beeline to the doors, I turned to see Grace–the owner of the studio–peeking out her office door. My stomach dropped.

“One sec, Di.” I lowered my phone, ending the call. “Everything alright, Grace?”

“Can you step into my office for a minute?”

Fuck. This cannot be good. 

I followed her inside. It was a rare sight to see any of the studio employees in Grace’s office, she usually came to talk to me after my classes, never the other way around.

She never gave off vibes that ever intimidated me. I have never seen her upset with anyone, unless they truly pushed her buttons. The word ‘nervous’ wasn’t enough to express how I was feeling right then and there.

“Have a seat,” she gestured to the empty chair across from her. I gave her a smile, but beneath that was a wave of anxiety washing over me.

I tried to figure out what I might have done wrong. Did someone complain? Did I mix up the schedules or bookings? Did Phoebe finally rat me out for showing up late most of the time? The idea of me getting fired was not on my list of things today.

Grace sat behind her desk, clasping her hands together. “I have some news for you.”

Oh God. This is it. I was getting fired.

“I know your lunch break just started, so I’ll just get straight to it.” Grace had always been forward when she spoke. “There’s an opportunity with the Vancouver Canucks. Their management reached out about a summer cross-training program. They wanted us to coordinate it.”

I blinked at her, “And…?”

“And I told them you’d do it.”

As if my eyes couldn’t get any wider than it was. I stared at her in complete and utter disbelief, waiting for some sort of punchline. “You’re joking.”

Grace smiled, “Nope.”

I would have never imagined she’d say those words. This might be worse than getting fired.

There had been a few occasions when I had worked with soccer clubs, and a few college football players for cross-training. But, I had never done a session with the professional leagues such as the NHL. This was way different.

“Grace, I’m flattered but–” I thought about my words carefully, “I have a full schedule this summer and–”

“I am aware of your busy schedule,” she said, waving a hand. “I already adjusted your schedule accordingly to accommodate for this.”

Of course she did..

I opened my mouth, then closed it. This conversation was already headed towards the direction I dreaded. “There are other instructors here that I think are more qualified–who have worked in this studio for much longer that are more deserving for this job.”

Grace raised a brow at me, “Do you think I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think you were more than qualified?”

Shit. I had that coming. I basically dug that hole myself. 

I stayed silent for my own good, Grace knew she was right and she sighed. 

“They want you,” she said simply.

“What? Why?”

I answered a bit too quickly, unknowingly raising my voice an octave or two. I shift in my chair, clearing my throat having just panicked in front of my boss.

“Well, given that you have a good background on hockey, I thought you were perfect for the position. Not to mention that their head coach, Rick Tocchet, had also referred to you. And if it helps, it’s not the entire team you will train with. Just two of their players.” Her lips twitched as she leaned in her seat. “One of them being your brother.”

My stomach twisted. I should have seen this from a mile away. Why didn’t I make that connection instantly right when she said ‘Vancouver Canucks’?

After all, my older brother Simon was one of the top forwards for the team.

Although, he may be my family and I would do anything for him–I wouldn’t train him or anyone on his team for that matter. Hockey was Simon’s thing, and I had my own so we stayed out of each other’s lane. And we like to keep it that way.

Plus, I wasn’t all that into men that played hockey. They weren’t my go-to type. But, I would be lying to myself if I didn't think there were some head-turners, but nothing too crazy of the sort. I have never dated a hockey guy.

I blinked, tapping out of my short trance. My brain was processing the fact that I was going to spend all summer with my brother and his teammate. 

Which led me to another question for Grace. 

“So, if I’m training my brother–” I said, dragging out the last word. “–who is the other?”

She took a moment before she replied, “Quinn Hughes.”

That brought me to a full stop. What?

My eyes were nothing but bloodshot, “Quinn Hughes?” There was absolutely no hiding my distraught expression, even if I tried my hardest to contain it. “That’s asking for the impossible, Grace. It would take a miracle for those two to work together.”

Shocked doesn’t even begin to cover what I was feeling.

Simon hated Quinn Hughes. I have spent the last few years listening to him ranting about how Quinn came in a year after he was drafted and ‘ruined’ everything–climbing the ranks, breaking franchise records as a defensemen, and taking the spotlight. 

I never truly understood the obsession. Simon had never acted this way growing up, especially towards another teammate. Now, he’s spent years resenting Quinn, blaming him for everything that has gone wrong in his career. I have asked multiple times specifically why he hated him so much, all I got was some half-assed answer.

And I’ve never met the guy, but from what I’ve seen, he seems alright.

“Your job is to make sure they don’t kill each other,” Grace continued. “I told Rick Tocchet you’d do it. And of course, you will be paid. More importantly, the Canucks’ are willing to invest in our studio. We’re growing and this would help fund more studios to expand, Sydney.”

Wow. It would be a great deal for Lumé Wellness now that I think about it. After adding the brand new Pilates reformers and more intensive sessions, our class attendances shot through the roof. The space in our studio was limited and we were growing in numbers as waitlists were piling up. 

What kind of Pilates instructor would I be if I didn’t want that for the studio?

I exhaled a sigh, “What about the media? They will be a problem–”

“We will handle it,” Grace cut me off. “After what happened last night, there’s no doubt that the press will track two of their star players’ moves throughout the summer. That’s why Rick, the Canuck’s team, and I will ensure that we will keep the training sessions on the down-low to prevent the media from talking.” 

That reassured me to an extent, but I was still skeptical. This was a bad idea.

It was easy to figure out why this arrangement was set in the first place. Those two, especially my brother, needed to stop acting like children and start acting like grown adults. Play like real professional hockey players. 

After the loss last night, it was only a matter of time when their team did something about it. I was surprised that it took them long enough. A few years ago, I wondered why they hadn't forced them to be stranded on an island together. Maybe surviving off an island together surely would have allowed them to work together at least.

The look in Grace’s eyes were telling me that there was no way out of this. Even if I came up with more excuses or tried to find a replacement, her (and apparently Rick Tocchet) mind was already made up.

I leaned back in my chair, my head was spinning in constant circles. “Is there any way for me to get out of this?”

“No.”

Damn. A complete shut down.

“Of course not,” I mumbled.

She gave me a knowing look, “Everything will be fine, that I can assure you, Sydney. Sessions will begin in two weeks.”

And just like that, my fate was sealed. Great.

I nodded my head as Grace dismissed me out of her office, gave her a small wave. I stepped out of the studio, took a deep breath trying to process what just happened in the last few minutes. I still couldn’t believe it.

My phone went off. Four missed calls and numerous text messages from Diane.

I called her back, and the second she picked up, she was already yelling. “Where the hell are you?”

A dull throb in my temple ached. “I got held up, I’ll be there in ten.”

“What happened?”

I sighed and began walking down the sidewalk. “You’re never going to believe me if I told you.”

The café was already packed by the time I got there, the low hum of conversation blending with the clinking of cups and the hiss of the espresso machine.

I spotted Diane almost immediately, she sat by the window, with a half-eaten bagel and small bits of crumbs on the table. She glanced up just as I approached her and instantly raised a brow.

“You’re late,” she said, pointing at me with her bagel in hand. “Again.”

“Sorry, I got held up.” I told her as I dropped into the chair across from her.

She playfully scoffed and held up her now empty cup, “Enough that I already finished one latte.” She smirked before setting it down. “Alright, spill. What was so important that you hung up on me and left me hanging here?”

“Grace.”

Diane’s eyes widened at that. She knew how rare it was for me–or anyone in the studio– to get caught up in Grace’s hair to get sent to her office. There were only good things I have told Diane about my boss over the years. Like the time she gave all the studio employees a gift certificate to the infamous spa in the north side of the city. It was generous of her, but it was quite expensive.

I took a deep breath before explaining to my friend of my new summer plans. Having to say it all out loud made me realize how real this was. It was going to happen and I wasn’t just dreaming in that office.

“Wait. I’m sorry, what?” Diane nearly choked on her coffee.

“Yep,” I popped the ‘p’, and nodded at her. “You heard me.”

For a split second, there was silence. 

Her face lit up accompanied with a squeal. Oh no. Here we go.

Diane’s expression was something between shock and excitement, “Syd, are you serious? That’s freaking nuts!” Unaware of her volume, she earned the glances of other customers in the café. We were both quick to give them apologetic nods. She leaned closer across the table, her voice quieter this time, “That’s huge, Syd!”

I scoffed, “I wouldn’t call it that.”

Diane grinned, “Are you kidding? You get to train professional athletes. NHL players. Do you know how many people would kill for that opportunity?”

She was right. It’s not everyday that you get to work with athletes in the big leagues. Anyone in the studio could have easily taken this job and taken the news a lot more lightly and professionally than I did. But no, oddly enough I didn’t have any other choice or say in the decision.

I shook my head at her, slumping into my seat. “It’s not that simple.”

Diane tilted her head as if I grew another pair of eyes, “What’s not simple about that? You get to train with your brother and I don’t think that’s all too difficult, right? Shouldn’t it be easier since he is your brother?”

As much as I loved my brother, we liked keeping our lives separate from each other. He had his career, and I had mine. Not saying that I wasn’t proud of him or embarrassed that my brother was one of the hockey stars in the league. I was very proud that he achieved his dreams, why wouldn’t I be? I just liked supporting him from the sidelines. 

“Me and Simon are close but–” I paused, tracing the rim of my coffee cup with my finger. “We don’t mix our careers or get involved in each other’s business. Now, I’m being thrown right into it and it just…complicates things.”

Diane watched me carefully, “Is that really a bad thing?”

I hesitated before answering her. “I’ve never really been a part of his hockey world, this was totally unexpected. Hell, I don’t even know if he knows about it. He hasn’t texted me since yesterday before the game.” 

“Okay, so you’re only training your brother. Big deal. It’s not like you’re training with the whole team.” She waved a hand, acting like that was the only issue I was dealing with.

I shot her a look, I accidentally left out a big piece of information while explaining to her.

“And Quinn Hughes,” I added flatly.

Diane’s jaw dropped to the floor, “Wait–Quinn Hughes? As in, the captain of the team and the best defensemen in the league ‘Quinn Hughes’?”

As far as hockey goes for Diane, she had no interest in the sport, unless there was eye-candy on the team. When it came down to the NHL, the only names she was familiar with were the ‘good-looking’ guys, my brother, and Quinn Hughes. 

I nodded, then took a quick sip of my coffee, “Apparently, my job is to make sure they don’t kill each other during the summer.”

“Wow. That’s definitely…something.”

“Exactly.” I crossed my arms. “I barely know Quinn. But, Simon? He’s been going off about the guy for years. And now I’m supposed to train them. Together? That’s a shitshow waiting to happen.”

Diane shrugged her shoulders, looking at me thoughtfully. “Or maybe it’s an opportunity.”

My brow raised at that, “To do what? Watch my brother have a meltdown? Yeah, no thanks.” 

“But–”

I groaned, “Diane.”

She was teasing, and she never fails to get away with it. “I’m just saying, maybe this isn’t the worst thing. You’ll be challenged. You’ll make new connections. And–” She paused. “Who knows, this might just be the most interesting thing going for you right now since the accident–nevermind, sorry.”

Ouch. That stung.

But, Diane was right. As much as I’d like to think that my life was perfect and everything was going the right places, deep down, I knew it wasn’t. Ever since I got hurt and went through months of recovering, the course of direction my life was heading towards took a hard turn.

Now, I have ended up here. But, I wasn’t not grateful as things could have been worse, very worse. Over the years, I had to learn how to go with the flow and accept it.

I knew she didn’t mean to say that with bad intentions. Diane always wanted what was best for me, and I was glad that she felt that way since I would do the same with her. She was my longest friend for as long as I could remember.

She gave me an apologetic smile, “If anything, maybe your brother can introduce you to his teammates or–”

I playfully shook my head, then stood up with my empty cup in my hands. “I’m getting more coffee.”

She laughed, “Fine. But, I am not done talking about this.”

I gave her a look over my shoulder before heading over to the front counter. The café was even busier now, and I had to squeeze past a few people waiting for their orders. I handed my cup to the barista, tapping my fingers against the counter as I waited.

Diane’s words lingered in my head. Maybe this was a big opportunity, Maybe I was overreacting. But there was still that anxious feeling in my stomach, my subconscious telling me that I was not ready for this.

The barista handed me the the refilled cup, and I turned back towards our table–

Only to be met with a sudden, solid force.

The next thing I knew, the warmth of hot coffee spilled down the front of my hoodie. I sucked in a sharp breath as the heat seared against my skin right through the fabric. “Fuck!”

The impact rattled me, as I staggered back, barely managing to keep hold of the cup and maintaining my balance. I looked down at the damage, dark brown stains spread across the pale gray fabric.

I clenched my jaw. Just perfect. 

“Shit, I–”

I glanced up, ready to give whoever it was a piece of my fucking mind and–

I froze. No, it can’t be.

Quinn fucking Hughes.

Stood right in front of me, low and behold, looked just as surprised as I did.

Up close, he was taller than I expected–maybe I was just short– lean but solid, his broad shoulders filling out his fitted black hoodie effortlessly. His dark hair was slightly tousled under his hat; damp at the ends like he’d just finished practice or a workout, and completely blended with the crowd of people as if he wasn’t one of the biggest NHL players in the league.

I blinked, my brain lagging for a second. I’ve seen him on TV, many times before, in clips that Simon had angrily sent me after a few bad games, but seeing him up close was different. Very different.

He had his own unique attractiveness, I won’t lie. He had the light scruffy stubble around his jaw–sharp jawline, and piercing greenish blue eyes that made him look intense, but there was a softness in the way that he blinked at me, momentarily thrown off.

What was he doing here of all places?

He didn’t seem to realize that I wasn’t saying anything and ran a hand through his hair, looking somewhat embarrassed. “I, uh–” He hesitated, looking vaguely horrified at the sight of my hoodie. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t paying attention.”

I exhaled through my nose, forcing myself to calm down despite the feeling of coffee soaking into my hoodie. “Yeah, no kidding.”

 He pulled a handful of napkins from the counter and offered them to me, “Here.”

“Thanks.” I took them from his grasp and attempted to clean the stain, knowing it wouldn’t do much but tried anyway. 

“I can buy you another one,” Quinn offered, nodding towards the counter. “Or, at least a new hoodie?

I shook my head, frustrated that the napkins were making my hoodie worse. “I don’t need anything from an NHL player, alright–”

Oh shit. My eyes widened as soon as the words slipped from my mouth. 

That caught him off guard, and so had I.

Quinn’s expression lit up and brows furrowed instantly at that, curiosity flashing in his eyes. “So, you know who I am?”

“Yes, I do.” I said in a tone indicating that it wasn’t a good thing. 

He studied me for a moment. Probably thinking that I was a hockey fan or whatnot.

“Can I at least get your name or number?” He paused, scrambling to rephrase what his intentions were behind that question. “To replace your hoodie or pay for dry cleaning, anything to fix what I caused.”

He sounded pretty genuine and his intentions were nothing but pure, hopefully.

I gave him a look, “I’m not making you buy me a hoodie. I can take care of this–” I looked down at the mess. “–myself. So, I think I’ll respectfully pass up on that offer of yours.”

As I was about to turn my back on him, his fingers found the material of my sleeve, and swiftly pulled me back. “Hey look, I’d feel really bad if I left here without making it up to you.”

“Oh, really?” 

He only nodded, which amused me.

“I think I can survive without your help, but thanks.”

Quinn’s lips twitched like he wanted to smile, but thought the better of it before I turned around.

I felt his eyes linger on me as soon as I made my way back to Diane. She watched the whole thing and she looked like she was about to lose her damn mind once I sat down.

I glanced over my shoulder back to where Quinn stood. I was so lost in that interaction that I hadn’t noticed two other of his Canuck buddies were standing behind him. I watched them laughing–most likely teasing him–about what they witnessed. Great, that was just great.

“What the actual fuck just happened, Syd?” 

I wish I knew.

all rights reserved © 2025 hellvst. please do not copy, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

[scary-grace]

¹¹⁵⁾ “you’re drunk, honey.” for the three word prompts!

Thank you for the prompt! I originally wasn't sure which direction to go with it, but then I had an idea for a follow-up on one of the Valentine's Day prompts, and I kind of ran with it. As usual, if it's not your speed, let me know and I'll come up with a different one! Post-canon, 3k, angst trending fluff. A follow-up to memory garden.

begin again

You never met Shigaraki Tomura, but you bring flowers to his death site every Valentine's Day. This year you bring them on his birthday, too.

“You’re drunk, honey.” The bartender slides your card back across the counter to you, and you look down at it like you’ve never seen it before. Sure, it belongs to you. You remember handing it over and opening a tab – and ordering way too many drinks for your public-servant salary – but it feels like you were watching from the backseat while it happens. A lot of things feel like that lately. “It’s time to head home.”

Your heart sinks. “It’s only nine,” you protest. “I can’t go home.”

“Yes, you can.” The bartender sets down a receipt for you to sign. Her eyes look kind, you think, but she’s not budging. “It’s time for you to go home, because it’s time for me to go home, and the kid who’s coming up next shift isn’t going to cut you off like he’s supposed to.”

“Why not?”

“You’ll tip him and bat your eyes and he’ll do whatever you want,” the bartender says, and sighs. “He’s a real bleeding heart. Can’t resist a pretty girl having a bad night.”

You’re not pretty, and it’s not a bad night. It’s the latest in a month and a half of them, nights where you can’t sleep unless you take sleeping pills and you have nightmares unless you drink. If you’re being rational about it, you can admit that it’s been coming on for a while. But if you’re being honest, you know for a fact that it started on Valentine’s Day this year, when you brought flowers to Shigaraki Tomura’s death site and imagined that you heard his voice.

You don’t know what went wrong with your quirk, but ever since Valentine’s Day and your visit to Japan’s loneliest death site, your ability to cope with the things you see through your quirk has collapsed. Every new death site you walk over triggers more than just a flashback – it cues up every similar vision, a whole flood of last moments that no one was ever meant to see. It’s not just what you see at work. There are death sites all across Japan, and you could wander into one at any moment. Once you do, you can’t avoid seeing it, and once it’s inside your head, it never leaves.

And it all starts and ends with the last few seconds of Shigaraki’s life, something you can never unsee, something you can barely live with when you remember it. Maybe that’s why you’re so fixated on the fool’s hope your mind cooked up the last time you were at the death site. Your wish that it wasn’t too late, your hallucination’s response that it might not be. You’re only so fixated because you’ve convinced yourself that there’s something you can do.

You let the bartender usher you out onto the street, into a cold spring night. “You’ll go home, right?” she says to you. “All the other bartenders on this street are my friends. They’ll tell me if you show up.”

“I’ll go home.” You can’t face dragging yourself into another bar, dealing with another question about why the long face, seeing the wide eyes when you flash your ID and your forensics badge falls out of your wallet, hearing the questions about your job. “You’re right. I’m drunk.”

“That’s the spirit.” The bartender pats you on the shoulder, then flinches. “Honey –”

“What?”

“My quirk –” she starts, but you can stop listening after that. This happens every so often, when you run across somebody with a sensing quirk, and they react to you the way you must react when you step into a death site by accident. “Do you need help?”

“No,” you say. The only thing you can think of that would help is if you didn’t have your quirk anymore, and even though there are legal ways to do it, the government will never sign off. Your quirk makes things easier for them, and that’s what matters. “I just need some sleep.”

Sleep. Right. You’ll go home and try to sleep, and the sleeping pills will kick in just strongly enough to keep you from waking up out of whatever nightmare you have, and then you’ll wake up in the morning and go to work and do it all over again. Why not? You’ve got nothing better to do.

You mess with your phone while you wait for the train, flicking through your messages and apps, looking for something to distract yourself. Something catches in your head every time you swipe through, but it takes you a while to figure out what it is. Today’s date, April 4th. There’s something important about April 4th, isn’t there? It’s an unlucky day for anything, really. An unlucky day for everybody in Japan, you remember everyone saying in the early years, because it’s the day Shigaraki Tomura was born.

It’s his birthday. He was born the same year as you were, so it would be his twenty-ninth. You wonder how many times he ever got a birthday party, or a present, or even somebody to sing him the stupid birthday song. You used to hate people singing the birthday song to you. You’d get all warm and your face would turn red and you’d usually cry. You can’t go to Shigaraki’s death site and sing him the birthday song. But maybe you can do what you did on Valentine’s Day. A few flowers won’t hurt anything.

Finding flowers at 10pm is harder than you thought it would be. Most convenience stores are sold out of what they had, and you’re not bringing him fake flowers. By the time you actually find a bucket of flowers, old and starting to wilt, you’re this close to missing the last train out. You hadn’t thought you were all that drunk, but the more time you spend stumbling around, the more you start feeling the alcohol. It’s a good thing you took the bucket the flowers came in, too. After you’ve dropped them on Shigaraki’s death site, you can use it to throw up in.

You know this won’t fix anything. Shigaraki wouldn’t have wanted flowers to begin with, not on Valentine’s Day or on his birthday, and he’s been dead for eight years. This is for you more than it is for him, just something to do so you don’t feel useless, helpless. But you always feel like that. Red Cap isn’t a heroic quirk, in spite of what the police tell you about how much it helps them. It’ll never save anyone. It only activates in the first place when it’s already too late.

You’re used to the battlefield being empty when you visit, but you’re not used to making your way across it in the dark, and you stumble into death site after death site, reeling from flashback after flashback. Just because Shigaraki’s death was the worst one you’ve ever felt, anywhere, doesn’t mean that the other deaths that happened here weren’t terrible all on their own. By the time you reach Shigaraki’s death site, you’re close to tears, frustrated and embarrassed and shivering in the windy spring night. The sooner you drop the flowers, the sooner you can go home.

But once you’re poised at the edge of Shigaraki’s death site, you find yourself in the same spot as last time – sure you should say something, totally lost for words. For lack of anything better to do, you start dropping flowers, hoping you’ll come up with something. “Happy birthday,” you start, as you scatter anemones, hyacinths, daffodils. “I didn’t remember until late and I had to get flowers at the convenience store. That’s why they’re, uh – like that.”

Wilted. Dying. You glance down at the death site, but the flowers have vanished completely. Have they always done that? You scatter more, watching closely this time as they melt away into the earth. “I haven’t been able to sleep since the last time I came here,” you say. You hear the same thing you always hear in your head: So what? He sounds different in your head than he did out loud. “And maybe I only wish I could save you so I could save myself. But saving you wouldn’t take away what I saw. All the things I’ve seen. So maybe it’s too late for both of us.”

You’re down to the last few flowers. You drop them one at a time. Rain lily, lilac, crocus, all of them vanishing the moment they touch the earth. You wonder what will happen if you touch it, if you’ll vanish, too. Right now, when you’re drunk and exhausted and teetering on the edge of tears, it doesn’t feel like it would be the worst thing in the world.

You set the last flower, a white rose, down on the spot where Shigaraki Tomura died, and it vanishes beneath your fingers – and in the same moment, a hand erupts from beneath the ground and seizes your wrist in an iron grip.

You recoil on instinct, and the hand tightens its hold enough to make your bones creak. Its palm is rough, its fingernails ragged, its index and middle fingers completely gone. You know whose hand this is. Anyone who watched the news or opened a newspaper knows whose hand it is. It’s impossible. You came here and lost your mind completely. You must have, because a man who’s been dead for eight years is holding onto your wrist.

You aren’t vanishing the way the flowers did. He’s not trying to pull you under. His hand is shaking from the force of his grip, but he’s holding on, nothing more. That doesn’t mean you can’t feel it – the strain of another adult’s bodyweight against your arm and wrist, thrashing and straining, twitching in spasms that threaten to dislocate your shoulder. You look at Shigaraki’s fingers, locked around your wrist hard enough to bruise, and see that his fingernails are going blue.

He’s suffocating. He’s alive down there – somehow – and he’s suffocating. Hundreds of questions flood through your mind, questions about how this happened, about why this happened, about whether it’s your fault that the Symbol of Fear has returned. Hundreds of questions, and none of them matter. Drunk and worn through as you are, you know what this comes down to. No one saved Shigaraki Tomura when it mattered. It’s not some lost child down there; it’s a villain, someone who did terrible things, someone who almost broke the country in two. When you said you wished you could save him, you didn’t mean that lost child – you meant the adult, the one who died in hopelessness and loneliness and fury and pain. You said you’d save him. Are you going to?

It’s not a question. You twist your hand in Shigaraki’s grip, wrap your fingers around his wrist in return, and pull with all your strength.

He comes up choking on dirt, struggling to cough around the earth that still encases his chest, and you yank harder, pulling his shoulders free. Shigaraki’s other hand breaks the surface, scrabbling at the dirt – why isn’t he using his quirk? – before pressing flat and pushing downwards. With that, you’re able to free him to his ribcage, to his waist, and Shigaraki coughs, clods of dirt spilling from his dry lips. He’s still coughing as you pull him free the rest of the way. One final heave that almost topples you backwards into another death site, and Shigaraki Tomura is doubled over on his knees in the dirt, taking deep, ragged breaths of air.

He’s shaking. He’s still holding your wrist. His other arm wraps tightly around himself, as if that will help, and when he speaks, his voice rattles. “Cold –”

No kidding. It’s April, the temperatures still drop to freezing overnight, and he’s naked. You pull your hand free of his and start unbuttoning your coat. Some part of you that’s still sane in the face of all of this points out that you’re drunk enough to struggle with regulating your body temperature, that you could freeze yourself, and you ignore it. Shigaraki Tomura startles when you drape your coat around his shoulders. His head snaps up, and his crimson gaze locks onto yours.

You remember the light of madness in his eyes, as visible in a still photo as it was on a live feed. It’s gone. You knew it would be, because it was missing when he died, and if a person’s conscious in their last moments, they’re exposed, missing every mask they’ve worn and every truth they’ve hidden from. You’ve thought, more than once, that you’ve known the dead whose death sites you walked over better than anybody else. You’ve thought about how sick that was. You felt it when you were talking to Spinner, and it made you want to scream.

Shigaraki tries to speak, coughs into his fist and tries again. “You meant it.”

“I – yeah.” You don’t like that you had to think about it. You don’t like what it says about you that you hesitated for even a second. “I don’t understand. How are you – here?”

“I never left,” Shigaraki says, and your stomach lurches. “I don’t know how I’m – back.”

You don’t either. You don’t have a clue. Even the most overpowered awakening of your quirk wouldn’t give you the ability to raise the dead. And it’s not hard to imagine that someone who spent their life in as much misery as Shigaraki did might have mixed feelings about coming back. “Are you mad about it?”

Shigaraki thinks it over. His face is more expressive than you thought it would be, and you see the answer settle into him before he speaks. “No.”

He’s alive, and he’s not mad at you for being somehow involved in bringing him back. Now that you’ve settled that, you have a problem. Or ten problems. Or five million problems, because you didn’t just help resurrect somebody who’s been dead for eight years – you brought back the Symbol of Fear, someone instantly recognizable, somebody whose mere appearance struck terror into people’s hearts. What are you going to do?

A moment later, Shigaraki asks the question himself. “What happens next?”

“Um –” If you’d thought there was any chance you weren’t hallucinating, you’d probably have come up with a plan for what to do next. “How do you feel?”

“Cold,” Shigaraki says. You nod. “Hungry. Thirsty.”

Clothes, then food, then water. Or water, then food. That feels doable, as long as you start with clothes. Where are you going to get clothes for him? It’s not like there’s a convenience store around. For that, you’ll have to get him back to the city, which means you have to get him on the train – how did this even happen? How did you go from leaving flowers for Shigaraki Tomura once a year to literally pulling him out of the ground? This can’t be happening. This is insane.

“Hey,” Shigaraki says, and you snap out of it. “You can go.”

“What?”

“This isn’t what you signed up for. And I can make it on my own.” Shigaraki draws your coat tighter still around his shoulders. “I’ll keep this, though. It’s still warm.”

It’s warm because you were wearing it. Shigaraki’s here because you took his hand. You saved him, sure – for what? It wasn’t just anger and pain you felt when you first crossed Shigaraki’s death site, it was loneliness. Loneliness like you’ve never felt anywhere, from any other flashback, a kind of loneliness that can’t be fixed by giving someone a hand up. Saving someone means more than just helping them up when they fall. It’s about figuring out why they fell down. It’s making sure it doesn’t happen again.

Besides, you can’t just turn a supervillain loose to wander the countryside. You have a responsibility here – to him, to everybody, and to yourself, because for once, it’s not too late. Just this once, you can use the awful things your quirk shows you to do something good. “You can keep the coat,” you say to Shigaraki. “But you’re coming with me.”

You’re unsteady as you get to your feet, but Shigaraki’s worse. You have to catch him to stop him from falling face-first into the dirt, and even once he has his feet under him, he can barely stand. You duck under his arm to support him and he stiffens. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” you say. You sounded way too sincere about it. He’s going to laugh. “If you fall you’ll get mud all over my coat.”

Shigaraki scoffs quietly, his voice still roughened from the dirt. The sooner you find some water for him, the better. He doesn’t try to pull away from you, so you start the long, slow shuffle back across the battlefield. You remember to grab the bucket just in time. It could be evidence, although what it would be evidence of, you have absolutely no idea. No one is going to believe this. You barely believe it, and you watched it happen.

Crossing the field is its usual nightmare, made worse by the fact that Shigaraki’s slowing you down, but unlike when you crossed before, you’re not holding back tears. You’re still drunk. Your head is still full of things you’ll never be able to unsee, and you’ll still have nightmares tonight. The only thing that’s changed is having something you can do. You never realized how much that could matter until now.

“You only come back once a year,” Shigaraki says as the two of you near the edge of the field. “It hasn’t been a year yet.”

“I had to,” you say. “It’s your birthday.”

That doesn’t explain anything. You know what the Shigaraki you always imagined would say to that: So what? The real Shigaraki, the one that’s naked except for your coat and stumbling along at your side, is quiet until you’re at the road, the lights of the train station visible in the distance. “I’ve had worse ones.”

tag list: @f3r4lfr0gg3r @cryptidfuckerofficial @lvtuss @issaortiz @evilcookie5 @deadhands69 @shigarakislaughter @minniessskii

[flufftober]

🍀🍂 Hello and welcome to Flufftober's (first) Fluff Bingo 🍀🍂

In our poll, nearly 50% of you voted for a handful of bingo cards to fill the other half of the year with more fluff before we jump right back into the excitement that is Flufftober - and of course, we're here to deliver 😊

Find all the important info, more cards, and all the prompts in writing below the cut.

We hope you like this event and our prompts, and now

Happy Creating 🥳

🍀 Pick your card - we offer:

🍂 one card with 5x5 prompts (as seen at the top)

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🍂 three themed cards with 1x5 prompts:

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🍀 How does this work?

🍂 our standard blog rules apply and you'll find answers to most questions on our FAQ post

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🍂 as with all our events, this one will never close, you can always use these cards. If you need a timeframe/deadline because (like me) you'll never finish otherwise, consider these loose goals:

finish until July 1st when we release the new Flufftober list

finish during October, maybe by combining some of these with the Flufftober prompts

finish until the end of the year so you're ready for whatever event we plan for next spring

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🍂 feel free to also add the general #flufftober tag

🍂 please make sure to clearly show the fandom, either in the first few tags or noticeably in the post

🍂 contrary to how we do it during Flufftober, we will only use four tags during reblogs this time: #fluffbingo #fluffreblog #[fandom] #[your user name] - that means we will not tag any ships, characters, or which prompt you're covering

🍂 on ao3, our collection for this event is Flufftober Fluff Bingo

Prompts

We're going left to right, top to bottom!

🍂 5x5 card

Fresh Start

To-Do List

Craft Fair

Creature AU

“This was a bad idea.”

Exploring Together

Plushie

Secret Signal

“You’ll love it.”

Late Night

Hidden (...)

“It’s just so much.”

Free Space

Fake Dating

Carnival

“You’re the best!”

Royal AU

Missing the Other

Never ever, ever

Rainbow

Hanahaki

Pep Talk

“I really mean it.”

Hoodie

Movie AU

🍂 3x3 card I

“Where do I start?”

Famous AU

Traveling the World Together

Enjoying a Lazy Day

Task: Write in a tense you usually don’t write/write less than another tense

“You said you had it handled!” - “Yeah, well, I lied.”

Birthday

“Hey, wait, that’s mine.”

Direction

🍂 3x3 card II

“You’re late!”

Hospital AU

Grocery Shopping Together

Going for a Walk

Task: Write from a POV you usually don’t write/write less than another POV

“Could you not do that, please?” - “Spoilsport.”

Sunshine

“I don’t know, you decide.”

Concert

🍂 1x5 card - Smiles

Secret Smile

Relieved Smile

Honest Smile

Devious Smile

Teary Smile

🍂 1x5 card - Hugs

Soothing Hug

Hug in Celebration

Sleepy Hug

Hug from behind

Desperate Hug

🍂 1x5 card - Kisses

Kiss on the Hand

Kiss to distract

Goodbye Kiss

Forhead Kiss

Kiss on the Cheek

🍂 3x3 card - Tasks

Finish your WIP

Sort all your Ideas and/or WIPs

Edit an entire Chapter or Oneshot

Outline a Story

Work on that hard Scene that is giving you so much trouble it is holding you back

Finish the next Chapter of your WIP

Join in a Writing Event (this card doesn’t count 😉 but the others do!)

Finish a Oneshot

Dig out an old Draft and work on it

Have Fun and Go Wild 🥳

[rootedinrevisions]

Religiously

Summary: Jake’s world is turned upside down when he learns that the woman he once loved is getting married to someone else. Struggling with the weight of his past mistakes and the emotional fallout of their breakup, Jake is deployed on a mission that nearly costs him his life. What happens when he returns home to recover from his injuries and comes face to face with her?

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader (No Use of Y/n)

Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Religious References, Violence related to military action and combat, Combat Related Injury, Mentions of near death experiences, Discussions of emotional and physical pain, PTSD like themes, Possible triggers related to medical and emergency situations.

Word Count: 6,664

A/N: So it's been a little bit since I posted anything. But here is a little something I've been working on for a few days. Hope you guys enjoy xx

**Flashbacks ared indicated by italics**

Jake shifted the phone to his other ear, stretching his legs out on the hard, thin standard issue mattress that the Navy offered in the barracks. The air conditioning unit rattled in the background, barely cutting through the Southern California heat.

It was late, and he was tired. But he knew he couldn’t miss his usual Sunday night call with his mom. No matter where the Navy sent him, Mama Seresin always expected him to check in.

“Your dad finally fixed the fence,” his mom was saying. “After I reminded him for the hundredth time.”

Jake smirked, rubbing a hand over his face. “Took him long enough.”

“That’s what I said, honey! But you know how he is. Stubborn as a mule.”

“Guess I know where I get it from, then.”

His mom scoffed. “Oh honey, that’s all from your daddy’s side.”

Jake chuckled, the familiar back and forth easing some of the tension in his chest. These calls were a tether to home. Something steady in a life that seemed to never stop moving.

But then his mom’s tone shifted, just slightly. “Oh, did you see the picture of the paper? Your sister said she was going to send it to you.”

Jake frowned. “What paper?”

“The Gazette. They had an engagement announcement in last week’s edition.”

He didn’t think much of it at first, just let her words settle in the background as he reached for the beer on the nightstand. 

And then she said your name. 

Jake’s fingers froze around the bottle. His heart punched once, hard, against his ribs.

“She’s getting married next month. Can you believe it?”

His throat suddenly felt tight and dry. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice even. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. Big wedding from what I hear. Out at that fancy vineyard in Hill Country. Her mama must be over the moon.”

Jake could only nod, even though she couldn’t see him.

You. Married.

He should’ve expected it. It had been years since he’d last seen you, since he’d walked away and let you go. But still, something about it didn’t sit right.

“Anyway, I always thought you two would end up together,” his mom added casually. Like she hadn’t just knocked the wind out of him. “Guess life had other plans.”

Jake let out a breath through his nose, gripping the bottle tighter. “Yeah. Guess so.”

A silence stretched between them, heavy with everything he didn’t say.

“Jake?” His mom’s voice softened. “You okay, sweetie?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure, honey?” his mom pressed. “You sound—”

“I’m good, Ma,” he cut in, his voice rougher than he meant it to be. He ran a hand over his face. “Just tired. Long day.”

His mom didn’t push, but he could hear the doubt in the way she sighed. “Alright, well, get some rest. And call me next Sunday, you hear?”

“Yeah. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.”

The call ended with a soft click, but the silence it left behind was anything but peaceful.

Jake let the phone rest against his chest for a second, staring up at the ceiling. The AC hummed steady but weak, barely making a dent in the sticky air.

He shut his eyes. Tried to push the thought of you out of his head. Tried to forget the way your name had felt like a punch to the ribs. Tried not to picture you in a white dress, smiling at some other man.

Jake sat up abruptly, cursing under his breath. He ran a hand through his hair, restless. His pulse was too loud, his thoughts running too fast.

He told himself to leave it alone. To let it go, the way he had years ago.

But his fingers moved before he could stop them, unlocking his phone and pulling up his photos. He scrolled fast, past images of deployments, blurry bar nights, old squadmates. 

Until he sees it. A picture of you.

The two of you, tangled together on the dock that summer. Your legs draped over his, your head tipped back in laughter. The setting sun had turned your skin golden, your hair wind-tousled and perfect. He remembered the exact moment he took the photo.

“You’re staring,” you’d teased, nudging his arm.

“Maybe,” he’d admitted, grinning. “Can you blame me?”

Jake swallowed hard. His thumb hovered over the screen. He should put the phone down. Delete the photos. Move on.

But instead, his mind pulled him under. Back to that summer. Back to you. Back to the moment everything changed.

Jake kept scrolling. Past the dock. Past the bonfires. Past the blurry, stolen moments that still felt too sharp.

And then he stopped. The picture filled his screen, pulling the air straight from his lungs.

You, standing in the middle of the river, the water lapping at your thighs. Your arms stretched out, face tipped to the sun, eyes closed like you could soak in the warmth forever. That stupid blue swimsuit he used to tease you about, the one you insisted was your favorite.

He could still hear your laugh from that day.

Could still feel the moment everything changed.

“You coming in, or what?” you called, twisting toward him, your hair dripping down your back.

Jake sat on the riverbank, forearms resting on his knees, watching you wade deeper into the water. “I don’t know. You sure it’s not freezing?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s Texas in July, dumbass.”

Still he didn’t move. Just sat there, watching the sunlight catch in your hair, the way the water curved around your legs.

You sighed, dramatically, and turned to face him fully. “Okay, fine. I’ll come to you.”

Before he could react, you lunged forward, hands cutting through the water, sending a wave straight at him.

“Damn it—”

It was too late. Cold water splashed over his legs, soaking the edge of his shorts.

Your laugh was loud and reckless. “Guess it’s not that cold, huh?”

Jake shot to his feet. “Oh, you’re real funny.”

“I try,” you quipped, grinning as you stepped back, deeper into the river. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

He didn’t think—just moved. Sprinting forward, he hit the water fast, the shock of it stealing his breath, but he didn’t stop. You yelped, spinning to escape, but he caught you easily, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Jake. Don’t you dare—”

Too late.

He lifted you effortlessly, slinging you over his shoulder before spinning in a circle. You shrieked, kicking your legs, but he only laughed.

“Apologize,” he teased, tightening his grip.

“Never.”

“Suit yourself.”

And then he dropped you. You disappeared beneath the surface, the splash soaking him completely. He barely had a second to gloat before you popped up, hair plastered to your face, eyes blazing with mock outrage.

“Oh, it’s on,” you warned.

Before he could react, you launched yourself at him, pushing him under.

He surfaced a second later, shaking water from his face, only to find you already laughing.

You looked happy. You always looked happy, but today there was something different about it. About you.

Jake’s breath caught, something unfamiliar curling in his chest. He wanted to keep you like this. Wanted to see you like this every damn day.

And that’s when it hit him. Like a punch to the ribs.

He was falling for you. Maybe he already had.

Jake blinked, the memory dissolving like mist.

His chest ached, his grip tightening around the phone.

He should’ve told you. He should’ve said those three little words that summer.

But he never did. And now? Now you were marrying someone else.

Jake exhaled sharply and closed out of his photo album. Before he could think better of it, his fingers moved on instinct, opening his social media app and typing your name into the search bar.

The first picture hit him like a gut punch.

You standing in front of a wall of pastel balloons, champagne glass in hand. The caption read Bride to Be in swirly gold script, matching the sash draped over your shoulder. Someone had tagged you in the post a few weeks ago

Jake swallowed hard, his eyes dragging over the details.

The white dress clung to you in all the right ways. Your hair was curled soft around your face, your smile wide and effortless.

You looked happy. Really happy.

The sight of it made him sick.

His stomach twisted as he swiped through more photos. You, laughing with friends. You cutting into a cake shaped like a wedding dress. You leaning into your fiancé..

Jake’s jaw locked at the sight of the guy.

He looked…fine. Some clean cut, polished type. A little too put together. A little too perfect.

Your smiles with your fiance were poised and practiced. Pretty but forced. The kind of smile you put on when you knew a camera was on you. It was the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Jake scrolled back to one of your old pictures together. A blurry shot from a summer night. You were sitting beside him on the tailgate of his truck. Your head was thrown back in laughter. No perfect angles. No careful posing. Just you, caught mid laugh, so lost in the moment you didn’t care about the camera.

And maybe Jake was just torturing himself, but he swore you looked happier then. Happier with him.

He scrolled back up, staring at the image of you in white at the bridal shower. Maybe you smiled like that now. Maybe you convinced yourself this was what you wanted.

Jake exhaled sharply and shut off his phone, dropping it onto the bed beside him like it burned. But the image of you in white was already seared into his mind.

Marriage. It was what you always wanted. Hell, he wanted it too…just not as soon as you. He told himself he wasn’t ready. That he needed more time, that he had things to figure out, that forever could wait a little longer.

But you weren’t willing to wait for him to decide that he was ready. And now time was up.

His jaw clenched. He ran a hand over his face, dragging it down to his mouth as if that could stop the ache clawing at his chest.

He should be over this by now. You were.

He stared at the ceiling, willing himself not to care.

It had been a couple of years. He’d had his share of short lived relationships, other break ups. He went through the motions. First dates, good mornings, empty conversations that never quite filled the space you left behind. Some hurt for a while, some didn’t even register, most faded into nothing more than a name or a fleeting memory.

But yours? That breakup was different. It wasn’t just another failed relationship. Yours was the one that gutted him. The one that still sat heavy in his chest, refusing to be buried no matter how much time passed.

It was the only one that still got to him. He could barely remember the details of his other breakups. Who ended things first, the reasons why, the words exchanged. They were all just echoes of something that was never meant to last.

But you? He remembered everything.

"I love you, Jake. I love you so much, but I can’t keep waiting for you to decide if you want this...if you want me."

Your eyes had been glassy, your hands clenched into fists at your sides like you were holding yourself together by sheer will alone. He’d stood there, jaw tight, arms crossed, refusing to let himself break. Refusing to admit he was terrified.

"It’s not that simple," he had said, voice rough, exhausted from the same argument you’d been having for weeks.

"It is for me," you whispered, voice cracking. "I want a life with you. A future. A family. But if you don’t know if you want that with me, then I—" You sucked in a sharp breath. "Then I can’t do this anymore."

The way your fingers trembled as you slipped the key to his place onto the counter nearly undid him. It was such a small movement, so quiet, but it hit like a gunshot. Final. Permanent.

Even then, even when you turned to go, he could have stopped you. He could have said Wait. I love you. I want this. I want you. But his own stubborn silence kept him frozen, hands fisting at his sides as he watched you walk to the door.

And everything in him screamed that he should run after you.

But he didn’t. And that was the moment he lost you.

And now, years later, the weight of losing you hadn’t lessened. If anything, it pressed down harder, knowing you’d moved on while he was still stuck here trying to pretend he wasn’t.

Jake’s thumb hovered over the screen as he scrolled, then stopped. A picture of you with a guitar.

You were sitting on a blanket in the grass, laughing at something just outside the frame, fingers curled around the neck of the instrument like it was second nature. The sight of it pulled at something deep in his chest. And just like that, he was back there.

Back on your front porch that summer night.

The cicadas hummed in the background, a lazy breeze rolling through, carrying the scent of honeysuckle and warm earth. You sat cross legged on the old wooden swing, your guitar balanced on your lap, the porch light casting a soft glow over your face.

"Come on, Jake," you teased, strumming a few easy chords. "You know this one."

He grinned, leaning against the railing with a beer dangling from his fingers. "I know it, but I’m not singing it."

"Fine," you huffed dramatically, but there was a smile playing on your lips. "Guess I’ll just have to sing it for both of us."

Your voice, soft and sweet, wrapped around the melody, carrying the words into the warm night air. And Jake just watched you. The way your fingers danced effortlessly over the strings. The way your nose scrunched slightly when you hit the higher notes. The way your eyes flicked up to meet his like you were singing just for him.

And that was the moment.

That was the moment he knew, or at least thought he knew, that he was going to marry you.

It hit him so fast, so unexpectedly, that it nearly knocked the breath out of him. He’d never believed in fate or soulmates or any of that, but sitting there, listening to you play your song under the Texas sky, he’d never been so sure of anything in his life.

But that was a lifetime ago.

And now, that life the one he thought he’d have with you, belonged to someone else.

Tomorrow he was leaving for deployment. Another stretch of time spent oceans away, filling his days with routine and responsibility. Pushing everything else, everything going on in his personal life to the back of his mind. 

That was usually the easy part. But this time?

This time, he wished you were here. He wished you were the one standing by giving him that last lingering hug before he boarded the plane. The one pressing a kiss to his lips and telling him to stay safe, to come home in one piece. You used to say it with a teasing smile, but he knew you meant it with every part of you.

And if he was being honest with himself, if he let himself sink into that dangerous, aching place in his chest, he wished you’d be the one waiting for him when he came home too. 

But he knew better than that. By the time he came back, you’d be someone else’s. You’d moved on. You’d found what you needed with someone who didn’t keep you waiting for him to be ready.

And tomorrow, as he stood on the tarmac, duffel slung over his shoulder, staring out at the horizon before takeoff…he’d have to find a way to make peace with that.

* * * * *

The days leading up to the mission had felt like any other. Straightforward. Jake had been briefed, run the practice drills. He knew the routine, knew the threats, knew the risks. But he wasn’t worried. He’d been through this before. He was trained for moments like this. His crew made up of Phoenix and Bob had his back, and he trusted them.

It wasn’t a difficult mission. Two planes. Simple intel. Minor threat from enemy aircraft, but it wasn’t a serious risk. That’s what they had been told, and Jake believed it.

They took off that morning, the cool January air crisp as the planes cut through it. Jake was leading, flying in formation with Phoenix and Bob close behind. The adrenaline buzzed in his veins, but he kept it steady. They had their plan, and nothing was going to go wrong. Or so he thought.

The radio crackled in his ear, Phoenix's voice cutting through the static. "Enemy aircraft, five o’clock!"

Jake didn’t see them. Not at first. Everything was too smooth, too easy. But as Phoenix and Bob called it out, the world shifted. He glanced over his shoulder just as a shadow broke through the cloud cover.

Before he could react, there was a burst of red hot fire tearing through his right wing. The impact hit like a freight train, and then… everything went wrong. His plane jolted violently, and the warning lights flashed in his cockpit.

"Shit!" Jake muttered under his breath, fighting for control.

His heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the sky. Phoenix and Bob were calling over the radio shouting commands, but everything was a blur of panic and noise.

The next thing he knew, the plane was spiraling, falling. And then came the gut wrenching sound of metal meeting the surface as his plane hit the water.

It was cold, too cold.

His body hit the surface with an intensity that felt like concrete.

Pain exploded in his chest, knocking the wind out of him, the world spinning around him as his plane began to sank. He struggled to keep his head above water. The saltwater burned against his skin, but it was the cold that was most unforgiving.

His breath came in shallow gasps. He could barely keep his eyes open. The pain radiated through every nerve in his body, but his thoughts didn’t linger on the physical agony.

All he could think about was you.

Your face, your laugh, the way you smiled at him like you were the only two people in the world. The warmth of your touch when he held you close. The way your eyes sparkled in the light.

God, he missed you.

It didn’t even feel like life anymore. The sun was still shining above, but it was too bright, too distant.

For a moment, Jake wondered if this was what death felt like. If the coldness of the ocean would be the last thing he ever felt.

He was there drifting, and staring up at the sky, each passing second slipping further and further from him. The world was fading. He wasn’t sure if it was the water filling his lungs or the weight of the loss that was dragging him down.

And then, in that haze of fading consciousness, a single thought pierced through the fog.

He would never see you again.

The pain from the crash didn’t compare to the ache in his chest at that thought. The empty, hollow feeling that consumed him, knowing he’d never get another chance to hold you, to tell you he loved you, to fix the mess he made.

His eyes closed again, the memory fading as darkness closed in, but not before he whispered one last time, "I love you."

Jake didn’t know how much time had passed. But suddenly the world around Jake was nothing but noise and shadows, a blur of voices he couldn’t quite make sense of. His body felt like a weight, every inch of him burning with pain, yet somehow, it was as if his mind was disconnected, floating somewhere far away.

He was still in the water. The coldness had a grip on him, sinking into his bones, but now... now there was warmth, a sensation that almost didn’t feel real. He blinked slowly, the light above him flickering, and then it was the sound of helicopters. The deep, reverberating thrum of blades slicing through the sky.

“Lieutenant Seresin!” a voice called, familiar yet distant. “Stay with me.”

He couldn’t focus on who was speaking, but the words reached him, distant echoes that seemed to tug him back from the abyss. 

He heard his call sign then, as if it was the only thing tethering him to the world: “Hangman...Hangman, we’ve got you.”

A sharp pain ran through his body, and he hissed in response. His eyes tried to focus, but the world kept shifting, pulling him further under, as if the ocean itself was calling him back.

“Hang in there, Hangman!” another voice barked, this one more frantic. “We’ve got you. Just hold on.”

But he couldn’t hold on. He couldn’t keep his grip on consciousness. His eyes closed again, darkness threatening to take over.

And in that quiet, fleeting moment before everything faded, one thought echoed in his mind, louder than any of the voices around him, louder than the chopper blades, louder than the pain. 

One name.

Your name.

The sound of your name coming from his lips was barely audible. But the weight of it was everything. It was the only thing his heart could hold onto.

The darkness began to press in around him yet again. But the voices around him wouldn’t let him go.

“Hangman, come on. You’ve got to stay with us.” Someone urged, and Jake could feel the pressure of someone's hands on his chest. He could tell he was being moved. 

But even as he was pulled away from the brink of death, all he could think about was you. And the painful truth that you weren’t there. You weren’t going to be there waiting for him if he woke up.

* * * * *

The steady beeping of a heart monitor was the first thing Jake registered as he drifted back to consciousness. He blinked against the bright overhead light, his vision adjusting to the sterile white walls of a hospital room. His body felt heavy, weighed down by pain and exhaustion, but he was alive.

Alive. The word should’ve meant something. Should’ve felt like a victory. But all he felt was numb.

He didn’t know how long he lay there staring at the ceiling, letting the reality of everything settle in. The mission. The hit. The cold. The pain. The fact that he should be dead, but somehow wasn’t.

And you. You had been the last thing on his mind before he hit the water. The last thing before everything faded. 

And now lying here alive when he shouldn’t be, he didn’t know what to do with that.

* * * * *

Jake stepped off the plane, the humid Texas air wrapping around him like an old familiar embrace. The warmth should’ve felt like home, but it didn’t. Not really. Maybe nothing would after everything.

His ribs ached from the long flight, but he ignored it as he grabbed his duffel bag and made his way through the small Austin airport. His mom was waiting for him near baggage claim, standing on her toes to scan the crowd. The second she spotted him, relief softened her face, and she rushed forward, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Jake," she breathed, her voice thick with emotion. "Oh, honey, it's so good to see you."

He gritted his teeth against the pain of her embrace but didn’t pull away. "Good to see you too, Mama."

She held him for a moment longer before stepping back, her hands lingering on his arms like she was afraid he’d disappear if she let go. Her eyes scanned his face, taking in the bruises, the exhaustion still clinging to him. "You look tired."

"Yeah, well. Almost dying will do that to a guy."

She swatted his arm lightly. "Don’t joke about that."

He gave her a tired smirk, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Not joking."

Her expression faltered for a second, like she wanted to say something else, but instead, she just squeezed his arm. "Come on. Let’s get you home."

The drive back to the house was quiet, save for the occasional updates from his mom about family, neighbors, the latest town gossip. But Jake wasn’t really listening. He just stared out the window, watching the familiar Texas landscape roll past.

When they pulled into the driveway, his mom turned off the engine but didn’t get out right away. Instead, she looked at him carefully, her hands still gripping the wheel.

"You settling in okay?" she asked.

He frowned. "I just got here."

She nodded slowly, her lips pressing together like she was debating saying something else.

"What?" Jake asked, narrowing his eyes.

His mom hesitated, then gave him a small, knowing smile. "Nothing. Just…I have a feeling you're gonna find your time home a little more interesting than you expected."

Jake’s stomach twisted, but before he could ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, she grabbed her purse and stepped out of the car, leaving him sitting there, wondering why the hell she suddenly looked like she knew something he didn’t.

The next morning, the house was quiet. His parents had already left for work, leaving Jake alone with nothing but the old family dog and his own thoughts. He sat on the porch, the Texas sun warming his skin, a coffee cup resting on the arm of the wooden chair beside him.

His ribs still ached with every breath, and even the smallest movements sent sharp reminders through his body. But the worst pain wasn’t physical.

Beau, the aging golden retriever, lay at his feet, tail thumping lazily against the wooden planks as Jake absently scratched behind his ears. The dog was content. Jake wished he could say the same.

He leaned back, closing his eyes, listening to the rustle of the wind through the trees. It was peaceful, but peace didn’t reach him the way it used to. Not with everything in his head. Not with everything in his chest.

Then he heard it. Gravel crunching under tires.

His brows pulled together as he opened his eyes, turning his head toward the driveway. A car he didn’t recognize was pulling in. His stomach tightened, his mind automatically running through the possibilities. Maybe it was a neighbor. Maybe someone looking for his mom or dad.

Then the driver’s side door opened. And you stepped out.

Jake’s entire body went still. For a second, he wondered if the pain meds were making him hallucinate. Because there was no way you were here. No way you were standing in his parents’ driveway, looking exactly the same and somehow completely different all at once.

His pulse roared in his ears, drowning out everything else.

You shut the car door gently, standing there for a beat, like you weren’t sure if you should take another step.

Jake swallowed, but his throat was dry.

You take a slow step forward. Then another. The crunch of your shoes against the gravel is the only sound between you. Beau lifts his head, watching you curiously, but Jake didn’t move. He just watches you come closer, like he isn’t sure if you’re real or if you’ll disappear before you reach him.

And then you stop at the edge of the porch. Close enough that he can see every flicker of hesitation in your eyes. Close enough that he can tell you’re nervous.

Neither of you speak at first. You just look at each other. For a moment, it feels like the whole world holds its breath.

Then you break the silence. "How are you?"

Jake almost lies. The words 'I’m fine' sit on the tip of his tongue, easy and automatic. But when he looks at you—really looks at you—he can’t bring himself to say it.

Instead he exhales, shifts slightly in his seat, and admits, "Everything hurts like hell."

Your lips press together, your gaze flickering down, and for a second, he wonders if he shouldn’t have said that. If maybe you didn’t want to hear the truth.

Then you go quiet. Your fingers fidget at your sides, like you’re debating something.

Jake watches you, waiting. And then, finally, you lift your gaze and say softly, "I was scared when I got the call."

His brow furrows slightly. "What?"

You let out a breath, shifting on your feet. "They…couldn’t get ahold of your mom after the accident. And I guess..." You hesitate. "I guess I was still listed as a contact on your paperwork."

Jake's stomach tightens.

"They called you?" His voice is quieter now.

You nod. "Yeah." A small, almost breathless laugh leaves you, but it isn’t amused. It’s tired. "I was the one who had to tell your mom what happened."

Jake stares at you, something unreadable flickering through his expression.

He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to process the fact that you were the one who got the call. That you were the one who had to break the news to his mother.

And that when it came down to it, you still picked up the phone.

Jake lets out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head as he looks away. "Hell, maybe it would’ve been easier if I didn’t make it."

Your breath catches in your throat. "Jake—"

"I’m serious," he mutters, still not meeting your eyes. "Would’ve saved everyone a lot of trouble. You wouldn’t have had to get that call. Wouldn’t have had to show up here now, feeling like you owe me something." He exhales sharply, jaw tight. "Would’ve been easier for you."

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Your arms drop from where they’d been crossed over your chest, the weight of his statement sinking deep into your bones.

"You think that?" Your voice is quieter now, but there’s an edge to it. Sharp and laced with something close to anger. "You think it would be easier for me if you were—" 

You can’t even say the word. It makes you sick.

Jake finally looks at you then, and for the first time since you stepped out of your car, he sees it. The hurt in your eyes, the way you’re gripping your hands into fists like you’re trying to hold yourself together.

"God, Jake." You shake your head, blinking hard. "You really think I’d want to live in a world where you don’t exist?"

He swallows, but he doesn’t say anything.

"I don’t care what happened between us. I don’t care how much time has passed." Your voice wavers, but you push through it. "I would never, never be okay with losing you."

Jake looks away again, his throat tight, his chest heavier than it already was. He wasn’t expecting this. He wasn’t expecting you to still feel anything close to this strongly.

Jake clears his throat, shifting on the porch steps. He winces as the movement sends a sharp pain through his ribs. The weight of your words still lingers in the air between you, heavy and unspoken. He doesn’t know what to say or how to navigate this. So he reaches for the one thing that’s been at the forefront of his mind since you pulled into his driveway.

"So, uh...the wedding." His voice is rough, uncertain. "It’s soon, right?"

You let out a dry scoff, shaking your head. "Not anymore."

Jake frowns confused. "What do you mean?"

You cross your arms, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. There’s a moment of hesitation before you say it out loud. "I called it off."

The words hit him harder than they should. His fingers flex against his thigh, his pulse kicking up just slightly. He searches your face, trying to piece it together.

"Why?" he asks, voice quieter now.

You let out a breath, looking down at the ground. "Because it wasn’t right."

Jake watches you carefully. "Did he do something?" There’s an edge to his tone now,something protective, almost territorial, that he doesn’t even mean to let slip.

You shake your head. "No. He was...he is a good man." You look up then, meeting Jake’s gaze, and there’s something unreadable in your expression. "But he wasn’t you."

Jake just stares at you, completely floored. His mind races, trying to process what you just said. You still love him. After everything. After the years apart, the breakup, the almost marriage to someone else…you still love him.

Jake watches you, waiting, hoping, praying that this isn’t just some cruel dream that he's going to wake up from. 

But then you take a shaky breath, and your eyes drop to the wooden porch beneath your feet. "Something happened when I got the call," you admit quietly.

Jake tenses, his stomach twisting. "What do you mean?"

You shift, wrapping your arms around yourself like you’re bracing for something. "I was with him. My fiancé." You hesitate, voice barely above a whisper. "We were at our bachelor and bachelorette party."

Jake sucks in a sharp breath, his jaw clenching. He doesn’t say anything, just watches as you force yourself to meet his gaze again.

"My phone rang. I saw the number, and I just…I knew it was about you." You let out a small, bitter laugh, shaking your head. "He asked me not to answer. Told me that whatever it was, it could wait. But I couldn’t do it, Jake. I couldn’t ignore it. Not when I knew it was about you. I knew that the Navy would only be calling for one thing. And that I needed to know if something had happened."

Jake’s chest tightens, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"That was the moment I knew," you whisper. "I couldn’t marry him. Because no matter how much I wanted to move on, no matter how much I tried to convince myself that I had—" You trail off, exhaling shakily. "I don't think I ever did."

Jake’s breath catches. His entire body aches, but nothing compares to the way his heart clenches at your words.

"Then let me be yours again." His voice is rough, pleading, desperate. "Please."

You stare at him, eyes wide, like you weren’t expecting him to say it. To fight for this.

Jake leans forward, wincing slightly from the pain still radiating through his ribs, but he doesn’t care. Not when you’re standing in front of him, looking at him like that, like part of you is still afraid to believe this is real.

"I lost you once," he says, voice raw. "And it damn near broke me. I’m not making that mistake again."

Your breath shudders as you exhale, and for a moment, neither of you speak. The air between you is thick with everything unsaid, years of heartbreak and longing hanging in the balance.

"Jake—" You hesitate, pressing your lips together like you’re trying to stop yourself from saying something you’ll regret. "I don’t know how to do this again."

"Then we figure it out together." His voice is steady this time, sure.

"I was so scared," you whisper, shaking your head. "When they called me, when I had to tell your mom-" You break off, inhaling sharply. "Jake, I thought—"

He doesn’t let you finish. He reaches out, his hand covering yours where it’s clenched into a fist against your side. Your fingers tremble under his touch but don’t pull away.

"I’m here," he murmurs, squeezing gently. "And I don’t want to waste any more time pretending like this doesn’t still mean something."

Your eyes search his, and he sees the war inside you, the part that’s still afraid to let him back in. But then, slowly, your fingers uncurl. You turn your hand over, letting your palm press against his.

"Okay," you whisper.

Jake exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, relief crashing over him.

"Okay," he echoes, squeezing your hand one more time before pulling you down onto the porch beside him.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. There's only the sound of the wind and the soft rustle of the trees around you. Then, without a word, Jake pulls you into his arms, his hold tight but gentle, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go.

You bury your face in his chest, the familiar scent of him grounding you in this moment, in a feeling you thought you lost. His arms tighten around you, and for the first time in a long time, you both breathe.

It’s like the world slows down, and in each other's arms, the years, the mistakes, the heartache fade into nothingness. There’s no need for words, no need for anything else. Just the comfort of being together again.

* * * * *

A few days later, things are still a bit new between you and Jake, but it feels right. You're taking it slow, giving each other the space to rediscover what you once had. Things are easier now, the awkwardness slowly slipping away as the days pass. Jake is at your place sitting on the couch while you make coffee in the kitchen. There’s a comfortable quiet between you, no pressure, just the two of you spending time together.

When you come back into the living room, he’s standing by the corner of the room, his fingers lightly brushing over the strings of your old guitar that’s resting in the corner.

"You still play?" he asks, his voice soft, almost like he’s unsure of how to approach it.

You give him a playful shrug, leaning against the doorframe. "Sometimes. Not as much as I used to."

Jake tilts his head, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "You take requests?" he teases, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You chuckle, the familiar feeling of teasing him making something warm stir inside you. "You think you’re funny, huh?" 

You walk over, picking up the guitar, and sit down on the couch, strumming a few chords to warm up your fingers.

"What's your request?"

"Our song," Jake says, sitting down beside you, the familiar weight of his gaze on you.

Your heart skips at the words. You start to play, the chords coming back to you like second nature, the rhythm flowing through you like a memory you never quite forgot. The song, the one that’s always been yours and Jake's song, fills the space between you. And with every note you can feel something stirring again.

By the time you reach the last line of the song, your fingers move with a gentle certainty. It feels like this is the way it was always meant to be. The two of you here in this moment, coming back to what you never should have left behind.

When the last chord fades, Jake’s hand finds yours, his fingers gently curling around yours. He looks at you for a beat, and then without a word he leans in.

The kiss is slow, sweet, and soft, like everything that’s been building between you has finally found its way out. It’s not rushed, not desperate, but full of all the things you’ve both been holding back for too long. When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, and you can’t help but smile.

"I missed this," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion.

"Me too," you say, heart full, the world around you fading away until there’s only Jake, and you, and the love you’re starting to believe in again.

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hi!

Can i request a Rhea ripley x fem reader where reader is a fan and she goes to watch her first match and she has this moment with rhea that goes viral (maybe rhea looked at her in the crowed a certain way and the cameras caught readers reaction?) and later they go on a cute date to get to know eachother?

Basically love at first sight

rhea ripley x reader

‼️ soft rhea, soft moments

caught in your spell

you had always been a fan of wrestling but you never imagined you’d be there, in that moment.

the arena was alive with energy, the sound of cheers and roars filling the air as the wrestlers did their thing in the ring but for you, there was only one wrestler who mattered - rhea ripley.

rhea was incredible, unapologetically herself and completely captivating.

every time she stepped into the ring, you couldn’t help but be drawn to her presence. she wasn’t just a wrestler, she was a leader, a champion, owning the ring with every move, every look, making her opponent fear for themselves.

you didn’t think much about it at first, standing there in the crowd - just another fan, waiting for the match to begin.

but when rhea stepped into the ring everything else faded into the background. you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. there was something about the way she carried herself, the way she dominated that space.

and then it happened.

she looked out into the crowd, her eyes scanning the audience and for a split second, your eyes locked. your heart skipped a beat. her intense, confident gaze met yours, and for that moment, it felt like you were the only person in the arena.

a smirk tugged at the corners of rhea’s lips. was it meant for you?

you weren’t sure, but the way she held your gaze that moment made it feel like she was seeing you, really seeing you.

your stomach fluttered and your mind raced, unsure whether you had just imagined it or if there was something more to that look.

before you could think on it too much, the match continued, and she shifted her focus back to what was happening in the ring but the memory of that moment stayed with you, replaying in your mind over and over. could she have noticed you? or was it just a coincidence?

a few days later, as you scrolled through your social media, something caught your eye.

a notification.

you opened it and your heart nearly stopped when you saw who had tagged you in a post.

@rhearipley_wwe.

that rhea ripley.

the rhea ripley.

the post replayed the scene caught by the cameras - you and her looking at each other.

“she has eyes for mami but mami has eyes for her.” - the caption said.

you blinked, uncertain if your eyes were deceiving you. there was a message attached to the post, and you hesitated for a moment before clicking it open.

“hey, i hope you don’t mind the post! i saw you at the show. wanna grab a drink sometime?”

your heart pounded in your chest as you reread the message. this couldn’t be real, could it? was rhea ripley really messaging you? was this some kind of joke? or was it actually happening?

you took a deep breath, your fingers trembling as you typed a response.

“hey! that sounds great. i’d love to.”

you sent the message before you could talk yourself out of it. seconds later, you got the notification - rhea ripley is typing….

you held your breath as the message popped up.

“perfect. i’ll pick you up tomorrow night. don’t be late.”

your heart was racing now. was this really happening? rhea ripley, the woman who had dominated your thoughts since that moment at the arena wanted to meet you, spend time with you.

the woman everyone wanted, wanted you?

————————

the next evening, you were a bundle of nerves. you couldn’t believe this was happening. you had to keep reminding yourself that this wasn’t a dream. when the knock on your door came, you nearly jumped out of your skin. you opened it, and there she was, standing on your doorstep. rhea ripley, looking even more incredible in person.

“hey” she said, her voice deep and confident, with that signature smirk of hers “you ready?”

you could barely form words, but you nodded, not trusting your voice. she chuckled and held out her hand. your pulse quickened as you took it, her touch warm and strong.

the night passed in a blur. you talked, laughed, and even shared a few personal stories. it was easy with her. she wasn’t just the fierce wrestler you’d seen on tv - she was real, and she was interested in you. as the night went on, you found yourself more and more drawn to her, to the way she made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

toward the end of the evening, as the two of you were walking to the car, rhea’s hand brushed against yours, and you felt your cheeks flush. she turned toward you, her expression softening.

“hey” she said, voice quieter now, almost teasing “there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you.”

you froze, feeling the weight of her gaze “w-what?” you stuttered, suddenly shy, unsure of where this was going.

rhea smirked, but there was something more vulnerable in her eyes now “you captured my attention from the moment i saw you in the crowd. i couldn’t get you out of my head. you make me go crazy, you know that?”

your heart skipped a beat.

you blinked at her, too stunned to respond at first.

did she really just say that?

“you…” you began, your voice barely a whisper, still processing her words, feeling the heat of your cheeks “you’re… crazy?”

rhea laughed softly, stepping closer, her hand gently touching your arm “in the best way, trust me. i’ve never felt like this about anyone before. you make me want to lose control…i saw you in the crowd and i thought - shit she’s incredibly beautiful - but as we spent the night together i also learned that you’re both gorgeous and smart, talented and sweet…” rhea confessed.

you could barely hold back your smile, the shyness in you overtaking everything. you didn’t know what to say, but just the fact that she was here, that she was saying this to you - it was enough.

rhea’s hand gently cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing over your skin “is it crazy that i want more of this? more of getting to know you? more of you?”

your heart raced, and you couldn’t help but nod, a shy smile playing on your lips “no…i want that too.”

rhea leaned in closer, her lips just inches from yours. she paused, searching your face for any sign of hesitation but all she found was your nervous, eager expression. with a quiet chuckle, she closed the distance between you, her lips pressing softly against yours.

your breath hitched at the contact and you froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. but rhea’s hands were gentle as she guided you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other resting at your waist. she kissed you slowly at first, as if savoring the moment, before deepening it, her lips moving with more urgency.

the kiss was intoxicating. rhea’s presence overwhelmed you in the best way, her warmth and confidence making you forget everything around you. you felt yourself melting into her, your body instinctively responding to hers. you had never felt anything like this before.

when the kiss finally broke you were both breathless, your face flushed with heat. rhea pulled back slightly, still holding you close. her eyes were darker now, filled with desire, but there was tenderness in her touch as she smoothed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“i’ve been waiting for that” she murmured, her voice low and husky “from the moment i saw you tonight…”

you couldn’t help but smile, the shyness creeping back in as you glanced up at her “me too.”

rhea chuckled softly, brushing her thumb over your lips - she still couldn’t get over your shyness “i think this is just the beginning for us.”

you nodded, your heart full as you stared up at her, feeling like you were floating. this was real. and rhea ripley wasn’t going anywhere.

_________________________

likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed!

[delight-angelsbliss]

Hiii!!! Your ADHD post was perfect, thank you so much! I have the inattentive type as well, but I got really good at masking it/forcing myself to focus in some school classes lol (that is, if I had some sliver of interest in that class haha) I have another one, if it's ok :3

Could you maybe do shadow and sonic with a reader that is just absolutely terrible at getting proper sleep (4-3 hours 😭) who usually just can't sleep or is up doing something? Maybe hyper focused on a task? The amount of caffeine I have to consume in the morning is probably unhealthy 💀

Hope things are going great for you!

Precis: Shadow + sonic with an insomniac!Reader

Warning: side effects of no sleep and too much caffeine, no fender specified

Notes: I remember as a child (5) I would always stay awake longer to practice for ballet that I've been doing since I was 3 but I was taken out of gymnastics and ballet cuz of health issues:(( I love this blinkie too much please never leave me. I keep thinking of my step sisters and I can't stop crying knowing my dad is probably doing something to them the same way he did to me and it's eating at my heart tbh I could barely focus on writing

Sonic

We all know Sonic has massive amounts of energy, seemingly never running out of it. He isn't really a night owl type of guy, nor does he ever want to be, but when he met you, that changed. You were the complete opposite of him, always tired, staying up late, always drinking coffee etc. He didn't mind at first, but your unhealthy habits scared him greatly; you crashing out in the middle of the day was the thing that scared him the most, the way your energy turned down so fast was enough to get Sonic on the internet to try and fine some kind of help for you. He knew there were many healthy ways to get you to follow a routine. Sonic tried giving you melatonin, it worked for a few months, but it strung you out fast and you needed more to be able to sleep properly, he tried getting you some tea, but those smelled and tasted to bad you'd puke it all up.

It felt hopeless, but he didn't wanna give up helping you. You meant too much to him, you were such a nice person, yet you had the worst problems. He didn't understand it, but that didn't stop him from helping you. "Hey! [Name], let's go for a race! Whoever loses has to buy us a chili dog" he'd try to tire you out, cut your screen time and do as much as he possibly can to help you sleep. It broke sonics heart to see you so tired and strung out all day, he doesn't want to intrude too much, but he'd do anything to see you in a happy state. Besides all the chaos, Sonic doesn't mind your attitude much. He finds it kind of funny when he sees you almost falling asleep on your desk while studying.

Overall, Sonic doesn't mind it too much but he still worries daily about you, about your health. No matter what, he'll stay by your side though. He finds it fun to stay with you during the day, your calm demeanor (maybe a side effect) is like a refreshment for him, but the sudden mood swings and headaches you complain about will always bring his worry back to bloom all over again

Shadow

Shadow is also a night owl! The sun is too blinding for his brooding behavior, he'd rather watch it fall and the moon come up to greet his cold demeanor once more. He's the ultimate lifeform so he doesn't need sleep that bad, but since you're a mortal you obviously need sleep. He finds this out a few weeks into your relationship (platonic or romantic) Since he's so stubborn, he gives you an ultimatum: "It's either you sleep or you sleep on the couch" that worked for a day or two, but your bad sleeping habits, caffeine addiction, etc. Would always lull you back into staying awake doing whatever you wanted, it was your alone time. He wouldn't take that away, Shadow understands what it's like wanting to have some alone time... But he still knew how harmful this was for you

Shadow started switching your coffee with decaffeinated alternatives. The first few nights were the most rough, your body was still getting used to and adjusting to this new schedule, which helped greatly! Instead of trying to use medicines or tiring you out, Shadow tries discrete methods and ways to get you to practice better habits. Shadow knows he might not be the best for this, but he will still try and help you nonetheless. Shadow does know that you don't exactly enjoy all of this frustration from your lack of sleep, but he's baffled to know that you don't actively try to find some solutions, he doesn't mean it in a bad way... At the same time it feels like he does get angry, not at you, but your lack of motivation to help yourself. The way you continually have to go take naps just not to pass out

Shadow doesn't believe in naps, he sees them as the average way to ruin your sleep schedule. When he sees how many small naps you take just to function, it makes him worried knowing you're so tired all the time. He sees the way you strain yourself everyday, every passing second of the day. Shadow tries his best to help you, he really does. Shadow isn't the best at communication, so he doesn't see that as an option. That won't stop him from helping a loved one, Shadow isn't a very open person, but his past trauma makes his overbearing nature show easily. If overbearing helps you sleep easy, he'll stay that way

[cythiraeth]

cupid's chokehold! pt. II - i. e. the moment genshin men knew they've fallen for you

✧ ─ ⌑ pairing: gn!reader x lyney, kaveh, childe (separate)

✧ ─ ⌑ short summary: the exact moment (or process which lead to it) when genshin men knew that they are head over heels in love with you!

✧ ─ ⌑ about the work: lowercase, fluff for lyney, more angst for kaveh and kinda angst for childe, not proof-read i think

✧ ─ ⌑ notes: hi guys! i know it's been LONG since i posted the first part of this series but hey better late than never! i actually wrote it some time ago but i kind of forgot to post it, so i don't remember if it's proof-read or not (i hope it is) lolol enjoy and until the next time! also reminding you that my requests are open <3

link to first part: ☆ (featuring al-haitham, cyno, xiao)

and my genshin impact masterlist: ☆

✧ ─ ⌑ word count: 2.2 k in total

lyney

when you looked at him with such an amazement in your eyes and it was all about his magical performances. when you listened really carefully to what he told you and watched closely what he showed you. of course, thousands of people would come and watch his performances and give him compliments but the feeling they gave him was nowhere near the feeling your words made him feel

the lights of the stage were dimming, the theater still buzzing with the energy of lyney’s latest magical performance. applause echoed in the grand hall, a thunderous acknowledgment of the magician's mastery. 

there were so many people there, so why were his eyes searching for you? why wouldn't it matter to him if the whole room emptied and you were the only one left there?

it was just that… he kind of felt like no-one shared those passionate feelings with him. a lot of people came to watch, they were laughing and looking impressed by his tricks, but still, something was lacking

he felt like the impression he left on the audience was rather… temporary. he couldn't do anything but watch them leave a few minutes after the performance ended without asking any questions and already talking about what they are going to have for lunch today.

after the performance, when the crowd had dispersed, and the theater was silent, he found you lingering near the edge of the stage. he was still in his performance attire, his hat tucked under his arm, his smile as dazzling as ever.

“enjoyed the show?” he asked, his voice carrying that familiar teasing lilt.

you looked up at him, your face lighting up in a way that made his breath catch. “enjoyed? lyney, that was incredible! how do you even come up with these tricks? the floating cards, the disappearing rabbits… it’s like you’re weaving a dream right in front of everyone’s eyes.”

you always seemed so interested in everything he showed you, you always asked questions, it was just purely visible that you cared about everything he's got to tell you

and it was actually really… hot to him

yeah, he knows, it sounds kind of pathetic but hear him out

it just felt so good when he saw those sparkles of amazement in your eyes, he was so proud of himself that he made you this excited so it was a win-win situation

“look, y/n, you see this rose, right?” he once showed you a beautiful red rose that laid on his palm

“yes, of course” you giggled, focusing your eyes on him so as not to miss any of his movements

“but what about now?” he asked, quickly turning his hand over and hiding it behind his back

“well, now i certainly don’t” you rolled your eyes but there was still a smile dancing on your lips and a bit of laughter in your voice. you cheeks were slightly blushed, probably because of the temperature that was rather high that day ( ̶o̶r̶ ̶p̶e̶r̶h̶a̶p̶s̶ ̶b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶h̶o̶w̶ ̶c̶l̶o̶s̶e̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶, ̶̶d̶e̶f̶i̶n̶i̶t̶e̶l̶y̶ ̶c̶l̶o̶s̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶n̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶n̶e̶e̶d̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶p̶e̶r̶f̶o̶r̶m̶ ̶a̶ ̶m̶a̶g̶i̶c̶ ̶t̶r̶i̶c̶k̶)

then, he showed you his hands again, but this time there was no flower 

“easy, you just hid it behind you back…” you explained to him his own magic trick, what made him chuckle a little

“well, if i were you i wouldn’t be so sure about that” he almost whispered into your ear, leaning closer

your heart skipped a beat because you had no idea what his intentions were, but before you’ve got to say anything he returned to his place and gently touched a bit of your hair, just above you ear

(you were almost blushing, giggling and kicking your feet at that point) (AND SO WAS HE)

you too touched this spot when he withdrew his hand, only to find the red rose, fixed behind your ear

“THAT WAS AMAZING, LYNEY!” you gasped out loud, visibly excited and his heart was just about to melt for a moment. “i’ll never understand how you do all of this!”

“that’s the point, dear y/n” he said softly. “magic is meant to be felt, not understood. and i have to admit, it’s much more fun for a magician when there’s someone like you watching.”

“someone like me?” you tilted your head

“someone who doesn’t just watch,” he explained, his smile softening. “you listen, you try to understand the story behind the tricks, and you look at it all with such wonder. It’s… different.”

you flushed at his words, glancing away shyly. “well, your performances deserve that kind of attention. they’re not just tricks; they’re art. and i want to know every detail of it!”

“a great magician never reveals all of his secrets to the audience, y/n” he winked at you

though, a part of him wanted to tell you everything you wished to hear, since you were starting to definitely be more than just an ordinary audience member to him…

kaveh

when you comforted him once after an argument with al-haitham. you were so kind and understanding to him that he literally nearly cried, because never in his life had he felt so cared of and important to. he almost immediately knew that you were the right person to spend the rest of his life with.

when you’ve heard a loud knock at your door in the early evening, you certainly did not expect that when you open the door, the person standing in front of you would be the renowned sumeru architect himself

“kaveh? what brings you here?” you questioned and stepped aside immediately, motioning for him to come in.

it turned out that he and your other friend, who both had thought that living together would be a great idea (it wasn’t), had another fierce argument

kaveh stormed out of the shared house, his heart pounding and his mind clouded with frustration. he couldn’t even remember what had started the fight - just that it had spiraled into something ugly, leaving him feeling small and unheard, as it always did.

“just… another fight with, you know, him” he sighed, running a hand through his hair “not like it’s something new. but-” his voice cracked for a second “it feels like no matter what i say, he doesn’t care. he doesn’t even take into consideration anything i say!”

you were stunned by how eager he was to share all those thoughts with you, but you didn’t say anything - in fact, you were quite fond of this. it meant that he felt comfortable around you, enough to entrust you with his sincere feelings.

“it leaves me feeling like none of what i say matters. like i don’t matter” he added and your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. you sat down beside him, your hand hovering for a moment before gently resting on his. 

“you do matter, kaveh!” you said firmly “to your friends, to me and many others. i understand that al-haitham is often difficult to handle, but it doesn’t make you any less important!”

he rose his head and looked at you with those crimson eyes, and for a moment you swore that you saw them watering up a little bit 

“do you really think so?” he asked carefully

“i don’t think so, i know it” you replied, squeezing his hand to comfort him. “your passion, talent, personality - i assure you, it inspires a lot of people. and don’t even try to think otherwise because of some stupid al-haitham and his humours”

it almost caught him in this moment - a really unfamiliar feeling hidden somewhere deep down his chest. he was unable to say a word for a moment, his eyes started watering again and he tried to look away. 

so when you added a simple “you don’t need to hide your feelings when you’re with me. it’s normal to feel hurt, and to cry. you’re not alone in this world.” 

it hit him there

he always prided himself on his independence, with dealing with life's problems on his own. although in truth he often felt alone in this, he never let it show. it was only now, when you were sitting right next to him, focusing your gaze only on him, that he wished he could always feel this way - cared for and important.

a tear trickled slowly down his cheek, and when you wiped it away with your thumb, he knew. at that moment he already knew. that no one had ever made him feel so special, so safe. for the first time in a years, he allowed himself to hope for something more, for better days to come. with you, by his side.

childe

when he was injured and you took care of him. he thought he was fine, since minor injuries happened to him all the time, but you were extremely concerned about his state. and that was the thing that moved him - he could count the people that show their genuine care for him on his fingers, and he didn't expect you to be one of them. of course it was rather a pleasant surprise, after all

the smell of herbs filled the room as you rummaged through your first aid supplies, your hands moving with precision despite the concern etched on your face. childe sat on a chair nearby, his usual confident smirk replaced by an awkward expression.

“hey, y/n, i told you it’s not a big deal.” he said, trying to downplay the wound on his arm. “i’ve had worse”

you gave him a sharp look, from which he trembled slightly. “not a big deal? childe, you are literally bleeding.” you replied in a frustrated voice.

“i've already told you that i’ve had far worse injuries on the battlefield”.

“so what?” you snarled at him, pouring disinfectant over the wound. “that doesn't mean you should ignore all the smaller ones.”

for a moment, he wanted to spit something back, but gave up when he noticed the determination in your eyes. if he were to be honest, he wouldn't have expected it from you.

he sighed, looking around the room. at this point he looked more like a bullied child than the capable warrior he had always made himself out to be. 

he didn't fall silent because of the pain, of course not. he fell silent because of your gaze - full of concern and the aforementioned determination. there was also something gentle in it, you weren't angry with him after all. you just wanted him to finally take care of himself, and if he didn't want to do it himself, he should at least let you do it.

of course, his family often worried about him and sent letters asking if he was all right, but he had long since got used to reassuring them that he was fine.

his fatui comrades, on the other hand, treated injuries like badges of honour  - a true warrior should not be concerned about scratches.

and here you were, completely different from them all. you weren't angry at him for getting hurt or trying to play it down. you tried to help him not because you had to, but because you wanted to.

when he realised this, a pleasant feeling wrapped around him like a warm blanket, unfamiliar yet still comforting.

“done,” you said after a while, tying the bandage tightly. ‘it should be enough for now, but you’ll need to rest so it heals properly’.

“rest?” he chuckled, his voice softer than usual “this definitely does not belong in my job description”

you folded your arms and furrowed your brow, looking at him “well, it's definitely a part of my job description to make sure you don't do something stupid when you're injured. so don't think to yourself that if i needed to, i wouldn’t tie you to this chair”

your words really amused him, his eyes started shining despite the obvious fatigue on his face. “really, y/n, sometimes you amaze me”

“i’'m serious,” you countered, despite the small smile on your lips. “you need to take care of yourself, childe. you can't act as if everything doesn't matter, especially when it concerns you.” your tone has become softer “a lot of people care about you. don’t forget that.”

his breathing stopped for a moment, and your words hit him harder than any blow he had ever received in battle. in that moment, he realised how rarely someone looked at him the way you did - with genuine concern, not for his strength or skill, but for him.

“i didn't know you were that concerned about it,” he admitted in a quieter voice.

you looked at him tilting your head “why wouldn't i care? you mean a lot to me, childe”

and just like that, everything clicked into place.

the faster beat of his heart when you were next to him? the warmth in his chest caused by your words? that strange feeling of peace that your presence brought to him? 

deep down, he knows

and maybe, just maybe, he hopes that you do too

⌞⌑ cythiraeth - 28.02.2025. please, do not copy, claim as yours or share outside tumblr! ⌑⌝

[serxa]

THE PRINCE HAS TO LEARN THE HARD WAY—PART 3—THIRTEEN

PART 1 PART 2

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: It's Telemachus' last day with Y/n. Yet he absolutely failed making his time with her worth.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Telemachus

Sorry if this took SOOO long to post, Wattpad has been bugging recently, and yes, I write in wattpad but post it here. Thank you for all the support:)

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐖 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 Telemachus had been working for Y/n's family business. When Y/n's father started to notice that he was finally getting good at pottery, even learning the clay animals thanks to Y/n, he decided he'll let him work for one more day until he sends him off.

But Telemachus doesn't know that today was his last day of work. He happily walked towards the market, with his bag of scrolls and parchment that had all of the sales he had made the past few weeks he has been working for Y/n's family business.

When he met up with Y/n, oh God's how he thought she was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. But Y/n doesn't know anything about Telemachus' feelings. Hell, not even Telemachus knows for himself. He denies it, saying she's just a work colleague... She's a lot oblivious than she really is. "Morning, Tel." Y/n waved at him while he walked over.

He felt a weight on his shoulder suddenly disappear and waved back. "Morning Y/n." He smiled softly and they started walking to the shop to open up. Telemachus choice to work early and to get off the same time Y/n does too, which did make Penelope and Y/n's parents cock an eyebrow at him, but they just agreed.

"Could you open the shutters for me?" Y/n sighed, stretching a bit. She's different from the normal girls here in Ithica. Almost every woman is wearing chitons and doesn't help in shops, yet, Y/n is an amazing person with pottery and sculpting, working at her parents shop, and wearing a tunic and their long sleeve uniforms.

"Yeah, of course." Telemachus murmured before opening the draped and shutters. They started unpacking the stuff, putting them back onto the shelves, tracking what's the hottest deals, counting how many left are in stock and if they need to sculpt. "I'm so.. Tired." Y/n murmured, yawning as she stretched back once again.

"What time did you sleep?" Telemachus asked as he carefully unpacked the glass swan he was holding. "A bit late than usual.." She answered as she rubbed her eyes with the back of her palm. Telemachus smiled softly at the look of her sleepy state. "Need, I don't know, coffee? After unpacking we could get a cup and go back here.." Telemachus offered as he put the storage box away. Y/n thought about the offer and smiled, nodding. "Yeah, sure.." She agreed, as she started to help unpack.

As the two did their own business, Y/n's father appeared and started to have a bit of small talk with them, before he looked over at Telemachus. "Boy, it's your last day, me and your mother agreed on it. We saw that you have been a good help here in the shop, and I think you've paid much more than enough for your debt here." He smiled at Telemachus.

When Telemachus heard her father's statement, he suddenly felt a weight of his shoulders add, his shoulder sagging a bit. When he was finally getting attached to the shop, loving pottery, enjoying waking up early, and being her, oh especially being with her. He glanced over at Y/n who was also staring at him. "O-Oh, uh.." He turned his eyes back to Y/n's father. "Yeah, thank you for letting me know." Telemachus forced a smile.

Once Y/n's father left, ne continued to unpack. "Is there anymore boxes?" He asked Y/n, who was starting to open the drums of clay. "Uhh.." She turned her head to see nothing but empty storage boxes. "None, so.. About that coffee." She smiled at Telemachus, that practically made him weak to the knees and toes.

"Oh, still want to grab a cup?" He smiled, and she immediately nodded, taking her small pouch of money. As they walked through the market, since the coffee grounds and coffee shops were at the very end, Telemachus noticed how weary Y/n was today.

She was limply walking as she counted her money. "Everything alright?" Telemachus asked, putting his hands in his pocket as they walked with a small distance between them. "Yeah, just tired.." She murmured, which Telemachus still didn't believe, but didn't want to push her too much.

He started to lean closer as they continued walking, and Y/n catched on. She hooked her arm around his and rested her head on his shoulder, which made Telemachus feel a sort of giddy inside him, but he quickly shoved it away. 'This is just to help her..' He reminded himself as they reach the small coffee and tea shop.

Y/n took her arm away from Telemachus' and ordered two cups of coffee for them. As they waited Telemachus was whistling, a new skill he actually learned a day ago. "Didn't know you could whistle." Y/n suddenly commented, which made him stop and smile sheepishly. "Yeaaah just.. Learned a new trick."

"New trick? Are you a dog? It's skill." Y/n corrected him. Telemachus was used to Y/n correcting him like this, but there are times where they both act dumb which they ask her parents for help then. "Right, skill." Telemachus nodded and they got their cup of coffee.

They sat on the small tables outside of the standee and started to drink their coffee. "I love their coffee, it a different flavor." Y/n admired the cup of coffee while she kicked her legs from under the table. "It has a zest to it." Telemachus stated as he blew the coffee to cool it down. "I know! That's why I love it." Y/n said happily, her charismatic and energetic side showing again.

"There's that energy." Telemachus raised his eyebrows, smiling at Y/n as he watched Y/n get her energy back. "Well, a good cup of coffee is what a simple person like me needs to get the day started." She said proudly. "Woah woah, too many syllables." Telemachus teased as he raised his hands playfully, making Y/n scoff and chuckle. "I'm sorry that your teeny tiny brain can't comprehend more than 16 syllables in one statement." She retorted with a teasing smirk.

Telemachus sipped his coffee and rolled his eyes playfully. "Hey, I can comprehend! I can comprehend good." He laughed and Y/n couldn't help but laugh also. Once they finishes their cup of coffee, and started walking back to the shop, they saw the other standee's and shops start to open also, restocking, opening shutters, all of that.

When they were back in the shop, up and running, Telemachus was practicing how to mold clay animals as Y/n read a book, both of them waiting for rush hour, where all of the sales pile in. Y/n looked up at Telemachus, watching as his eyebrows knit together as he carefully sculpted the play, wearing their uniforms and his hair tousled. He kept a serious expression, really all his attention on the sculpting clay in his hands, carefully holding it, not squeezing it or anything, just carefully holding it so it would turn out good.

Y/n turned her attention back to her book, shaking her head a bit as to remind herself about what she was reading. After a while, the customers started to pile in, and the two worked diligently with their tasks. Meanwhile, in Telemachus' head, was just one thing. Today was his last day of work. He won't be able to see Y/n unless he goes to the market, but he doesn't want to be obvious also!

He served one customer and once they left, he started to turn a plan in his head, the years turning with a crinking sound with each turn, trying to form a plan on how to spend time with her. It's already twelve in the afternoon, Y/n's parents giving the two food and as they ate, Telemachus was trying to find a reason to continue working here. It's hardest to explain to his mother, Penelope, especially that he doesn't want his mother to know or at least expect he likes someone now.

Does he even like her? He was in a spiral, not even getting his own feelings, how is Y/n able going to comprehend them? He sighed before taking a big bite of food before looking up at Y/n, who was starting to talk about her book. Telemachus smiled softly, humming after every statement, indicating that she was listening to her yapping. "But the author only made this book! It's annoying, only this? Their writing is ethereal!" She rambled, making Telemachus chuckle softly as he watched her grumble over the book.

"Maybe I could read it also once your done.." He murmured. "I mean, sure, you can. Only if I'm done." She smiled and Telemachus nodded in agreement. "Deal?" He raised his hand for a hand shake, which she gladly took. Telemachus couldn't help but think about how soft her hands were, like you just put ten pounds of lotion on their hands, and how warm her hands were.

Y/n on the other hand, couldn't help but think how soft his hand were also. And how bigger they were compared to hers. His hand was skinny and lean also, just like him, but his fingers were long and could easily clasp around her entire hand. Once they pulled away and continued eating, Telemachus could feel his cheeks burn a bit, indicating he was blushing. He quickly got rid of it before Y/n could notice his blush.

"The delas set, you're reading the book after I do and you're going to talk to me all about it!" She giggled, making Telemachus smile, knowing that Y/n also wants to continue talking to him even though he wouldn't be working there anymore. "Mhm." He took another spoonful of food, bringing it up to his mouth and ate it, watching as Y/n did that same. The two were finally starting to warm up to eachother..

Once the clock ticked three in the afternoon, Telemachus knew it was time for his out from work. He hadn't formulated a decent plan that wouldn't get him into too much trouble, so he just decided to let go and stop working, his contract was off and he wasn't sure if they we're even finding a new employee. And gosh, how shy he was to go back here everyday just to spend time with Y/n, its a stupid thing, really. He's just making it look like he likes her...

As he took the boxes from the storage room to unpack all of the vases and animals, he looked over at Y/n. "So how's your last day? Feeling happy that you're finally out of this hell hole?" She smirked as she leaned on the table, watching as he unpacked, placing the work of arts in the boxes for future sellings.

"Actually, I might miss it." He shrugged. "I know I don't get paid, nor I haven't even stayed here for more than 2 months, but I gotten used to how we do stuff around here. And our morning coffees. Lunches with you.. Free time with you. Y'know?" He chuckled awkwardly after realizing that he was rambling about you, wishing you don't catch on and think that he likes you, cause even he wasn't sure if he did. "Huh, really?" She said, propping herself on her palms, her tone dripping with tease.

"Hey, don't tease me now." He chuckled, making her grin. "I apologize, Prince of Ithica." She said softly, knowing she would have to start using that title once again. "Pssh, hearing that from you is a new thing." He chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "What? It's true though." She giggled as Telemachus put the boxes back in the storage room.

"But hearing it form you is new.." He hummed, taking his bag, knowing that this might be their last conversation before he hides himself in his room, too scared to even look at her, knowing his feelings would just drive him into the biggest spiral mess he has ever been in before. Simply just by looking at her, makes him think that he likes you. But he also knows that he doesn't. But knowing that he likes you, also makes him remember he doesn't like you. It's really confusing, for him also.

He just wanted to nestle inside of his room and never look at her ever again. How is he going to ever explain this to her is he decided to confess? Does he need to get his shit and thoughts straight? He doesn't want to hurt her with false hope.. Suddenly, a snap made him shake his head, coming back to reality. "Huh?" He blinked, as he saw a confused Y/n in front of him, still leaning on the table she was leaning to earlier.

"You going home now?" She asked, tapping the table as she had a soft frown on her face. "Oh.. Uh-.. Yeah, I do. I-I am, sorry." He turned pink as he stumbled on his words. Y/n smiled softly and nodded. "Alright, so.. Let's go and close." She said softly taking the keys and her bag. As they closed the shutters and put back the drapes, Y/n suddenly felt a sense of longing. She didn't want to see Telemachus leave yet. Everything was so confusing.

"Uh.. I'll see you... Whenever I see you?" Telemachus said awkwardly, making Y/n's shoulders sag a bit as she realized that Telemachus wasn't planning on seeing her tomorrow. "Ah.. Uh, yeah.. Yeah, see you whenever I see you." She repeated, forcing a soft smile he normally gives him. Telemachus nodded and looked around before his eyes travelled back to you. "Bye.." He murmured.

"Bye."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

After a few days after Telemachus' last day, it was all so boring, no one to hang out with any more, and no more reason to wake up early again.

"It's been a while since you and Y/n have talked. You aren't going out of the house much again." Penelope said as Telemachus was hanging out in his parents room, as Penelope weaved a shroud. Telemachus suddenly froze at the mention of her name.

Y/n, the girl who was messing with his head. He never knew what love felt like. Is it supposed to make your her at ache or make you confused? Is it supposed to be annoyingly stubborn and never leave your head? How he feels about Y/n, gosh he just admits it, he likes her. He likes Y/n. How he misses his mornings, noons and nights with her, how the two talk about their interests and later on find out that you two both like that one topic. He loves how her eyes lights up when she see's him walking towards the market, how she leans on a nearby wall, table or chair as she watches Telemachus work...

How... Pretty she is.

Telemachus cleared his throat and started. "... I just... I just w. Have something in my head about Y/n." He started off, making Penelope curious. "That is..?" She waited as she continued weaving. "... I may or may not be developing big feelings for her, like big big, like big that I want to he with her. As a.. Partner.." He rambled. Making Penelope raise her eyebrows. Seeing Telemachus in love is not normal, he had always been busy protecting his mother from the suitors, being by her side as they longed for Odysseus to get home, so seeing him Inlove, is a crazy scenario.

"It's just.. She's so diligent. So hard working, she could serve up to 10 customers at once and could do pottery and sculpting. Gosh, in a span of short weeks, she managed to teach me how to do pottery... And how pretty she is, her eyes soften when she looks at me, her smile is so perfect with every crease and dimple forming on her cheeks and chin, even the side of her eyes creases when she smiled, her nose scrunching up when she's focused,she's like a rabbit, I swear, she's adorable." He rambled to his mother, covering his face as he groaned in his hands.

Penelope chuckled softly and hummed, looking at his now, lovesick son. "... You know... You could take the risk to be with her.. See if she likes you back." Penelope reassured her son as she counted the strings and skeins of yarn for her shroud. "I just.. I need time. I can turn my face towards her just yet, I need to let my feelings straight. Thanks mother." He sighed, standing up. "It's a good idea for making sure first." She hummed. When she saw Telemachus stand up, she cleared her throat. "Bye now, Telemachus." She smiled softly and he just waved goodbye. "Bye mother."

Fun fact, I wrote the last paragraph half asleep, so I apologize if it sounds nonsense

[v4mpire45]

Just a Dare

Other parts will be on the m.list.

☞ Link: click here.

Includes Midoriya, Kirishima, Bakugo, and Shinso.

Synopsis: You tell your best friend you're into them and get rejected, but in truth, it was just a dare.

Izuku Midoriya

It started as a harmless game of Truth or Dare with the Bakusquad. You didn’t think much of it when Kaminari dared you to confess to Midoriya. It was dumb, really. You and Midoriya were best friends. He’d probably see right through it and laugh it off.

Except, as you typed out the message, something about it made your heart race.

Maybe it was the way Midoriya had been looking at you lately. Or maybe it was the thought of how he might react, thinking it was real. Either way, you sent the text.

Midoriya apologized at least five more times, asking if things would be okay between you two. You reassured him over and over, but every time you saw him after that, he looked so guilty.

Maybe the dare wasn’t such a great idea after all.

Eijiro Kirishima

You and Sero had a dumb bet, who could get the most ridiculous reaction out of someone with a fake confession. Kirishima was the perfect target. He was so kindhearted, you knew he’d try to be as gentle as possible with the rejection.

So, while sitting across from Sero in the common room, you texted your best friend.

Sero was barely holding in his laughter as you showed him the texts. Kirishima, on the other hand, kept treating you extra carefully for the next few days, holding doors open, offering you food, and even patting your back reassuringly.

Joke’s on you because now you feel bad.

Katsuki Bakugo

“Dude, just text him,” Kaminari urged, practically shoving your phone into your hands. “I wanna see what he does.”

“You’re gonna get me killed.”

“Nah, he won’t kill you if you’re confessing.”

You had no idea why you agreed to this.

Maybe it was the curiosity. Maybe it was just boredom. Either way, you took a deep breath and sent the message.

He read your message and left you on read.

The next day, he acted completely normal, but something about his usual insults felt slightly forced, like he wasn’t sure if he should be mean to you or not. You could practically see the gears turning in his head every time you interacted.

Kaminari thought it was hilarious.

You thought you were gonna lose your mind.

Hitoshi Shinso

Mina and Jirou were ruthless during sleepovers, especially when it came to dares. So when they dared you to confess to Shinso, you barely had time to protest before they were chanting at you to do it.

Shinso was your best friend. He’d probably just roll his eyes and call you an idiot, right?

The next time you saw him, he watched you carefully like he was waiting for you to break down or something. He didn’t say anything at first, but his usual teasing was noticeably softer.

Maybe this was a mistake.

© 2025 v4mpire45 — All rights reserved. Please don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

[thehoneybeestings]

Arcane Actor Au's - Actor!Sevika x Actor! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Content/Warnings: sfw, arcane au in which they're all actors starring in the show, softttt sevika, loser!sevika if you squint, actress!reader, reader is fem/referred to with fem terms and pronouns

A/N: i am sure i'm not the only one who likes to imagine that every character in arcane is simply an actor, and they were simply acting; not actually experiencing the tragedy they cannot seem to catch a damn break from... so, without further ado, here is this first installment of this series!

as per the poll i posted, sevika will be first, and vi is up next!

Love, Bee ୨ৎ

Nina Singh as Sevika

୨ৎ You’re an up-and-coming actress, with Arcane being your debut television series

୨ৎ The audition process was no easy feat; after its first two seasons’ massive success, it was clear that Arcane’s casting directors were looking for the best of the best, and you were up against some intense competition

୨ৎ Some of which were were a-listers, so naturally, you had your moments of doubt, assuming that there was no way you were beating any of them out

୨ৎ You persevered anyhow, due mostly to the genuine love you had found for the character you were auditioning for: Evette, a prodigy mechanical engineer from Zaun who lands herself an internship with Hextech Labs. 

୨ৎ Her story consists of the tragic loss of her parents at the hands of enforcers, unyielding ambition driven by the desire to honor her late parents, and of course, one of the yummiest sapphic slow burns on television to date

୨ৎ You’re sure this slow burn is the main reason why so many actresses scrambled to land this role, and you couldn’t really blame them

୨ৎ Nina Singh was irrevocably and undeniably one the hottest people in existence, playing Sevika, one of the hottest characters in existence

୨ৎ This made for some very awkward chemistry tests between Nina and a few potential Evettes; actresses focusing so much on trying to seduce Sevika that at times, Nina felt like she was shooting the intro to some shitty porno

୨ৎ Then came you: one of the finalists for the role of Evette, unbeknownst to you 

୨ৎ You’re a nervous wreck in front of Nina- she’s an a-lister herself- and even still, your ability to embody Evette and bring the depths and nuances of her relationship with Sevika to life leaves the room taken aback

୨ৎ You’ll never forget the day of your chemistry test; you’re exchanging the final lines of the short scene you’re given to perform with Nina, heart pounding in  your chest

୨ৎ “Not getting any younger,” Nina gruffs in character, nodding towards your tedious work tightening the loose bolt on her arm, “and I’d rather not spend more time with a Piltie than I have to.”

୨ৎ Nina’s got a prosthetic arm in real life, so there’s actually a little bolt she lets you toy with for the scene

୨ৎ “If you want to leave with your arm short-circuting, be my guest,” you sigh, “but I don’t do sloppy work.” Your eyes flit up to hers for a moment- just until she catches you staring- before you continue tinkering with her arm. “And for the record,” you say, finally leaning back to admire your handiwork, “I’m not from Piltover.”

୨ৎ Nina’s brows furrow in confusion for a split second before she conceals her interest with Sevika’s typical scowl. “You didn’t tell me that.”

୨ৎ You smirk, looking up at her through your eyelashes. “You didn’t ask.” 

୨ৎ “Jesus,” the director calls out, “You two… I mean, the chemistry is palpable. Exactly what I'd envisioned. What do you think, Nina?”

୨ৎ You feel shy under her knowing smirk

୨ৎ “I think we’ve got our Evette.”

୨ৎ “Yeah?” The director responds with a smile, “What do you think, Y/n? How would you like to join us for season three of Arcane?”

୨ৎ Frankly, you almost shit yourself in front of the entire room

୨ৎ Thankfully, you’re able to keep it together and accept the role like a normal person; and now, here you are, three years later, and Arcane fans are obsessed with you

୨ৎ Even more than they’re obsessed with you, they’re obsessed with you and Nina 

୨ৎ Your character is a catalyst for the well-deserved, long overdue exploration of Sevika’s character and her vulnerabilities, and you and Nina are so invested in your characters that the bond you develop while filming inevitably goes beyond screen

୨ৎ At first, you’re wildly intimidated by her; she’s a renowned actress who’d been in the industry for a while, most known for roles similar to Sevika: guarded, icy, domineering

୨ৎ You’re quite tickled (and pleasantly surprised) to learn that Nina is the exact opposite

୨ৎ As soon as cut is called, she’s breaking into a smile, cracking a joke, or praising you for your performance

୨ৎ After particularly heavy or intense scenes, though, her expression tends to remain serious, and her focus isn’t on anyone but you until she knows you're all good

୨ৎ There’s one scene in particular- one where Sevika’s ripping into Evette- that Nina still feels bad about

୨ৎ It’s the first scene she thinks of when a journalist asks which scene from season three was the hardest to film

୨ৎ “I hate having to yell at her,” she says. “I can’t stand it; and you saw her bring on the tears- man, it broke my freakin’ heart!” 

୨ৎ You reach over to rub circles in between her shoulder blades, playfully rolling your eyes

୨ৎ “Poor baby,” you say, sticking your bottom lip out in a mocking pout

୨ৎ “So I take it Sevika’s disposition is much different than Nina’s?” The journalist inquires

୨ৎ “Oh, 100%,” you nod, “Apart from the RBF, Nina is a softie. I’ve never seen her angry.”

୨ৎ “I’m not a softie,” she mutters, resting her chin in her hand, “and what is RBF?”

୨ৎ “Resting Bitch Face,” you say in tandem with the journalist

୨ৎ She lets out a loud laugh, doubling over in her seat

୨ৎ It’s after this interview that fans begin to pick up on some… not-so-platonic energy between you and Nina

୨ৎ Nina is very sweet, yes, but she’s also very shy

୨ৎ But it seems that whenever she’s around you, she’s much more comfortable, coming out of her shell more than ever

୨ৎ Thus prompts the compilations 

୨ৎ “Nina Singh and Y/n Y/l/n being in love for 12 minutes and 54 seconds”

୨ৎ “Every time Nina manages to make the conversation about Y/n compilation”

୨ৎ “Take a shot every time Y/n makes Nina blush challenge: extreme”

୨ৎ But there are three moments in particular that fans can’t get enough of:

୨ৎ 1. The forever immortalized moment where you made Nina blush during a red carpet event

୨ৎ It wasn’t abnormal for the two of you to be paired for most press appearances, considering that your characters were a package deal in season 3, so you’re not surprised when you’re being photographed on the red carpet at the season premier and the photographers want a shot of you two together

୨ৎ “Let’s get some of the two of you, yeah?” the line of photographers begin to call out

୨ৎ Your hand reaches out for Nina- who’s a few feet away, getting her own photos taken- and she quickly slots next to you, arm wrapping around to hold your waist

୨ৎ Her fingers comb through her hair; once, twice, a third time

୨ৎ “My hair won’t stay out of my damn face,” she grumbles

୨ৎ Suddenly, you’re turning to her, reaching up to tuck the stray tendril of raven hair behind her ear and brushing back any other stray pieces

୨ৎ “Better?” You ask, turning back to the cameras like nothing had happened

୨ৎ You don’t notice that she’s acting like a total loser now; all fidgety and shy and awkward

୨ৎ In fact, she gets so bashful that her hand comes up to hide her face

୨ৎ And, of course, who wouldn’t photograph a moment so adorable?

୨ৎ She’s forever haunted by the circulation of her photographed schoolgirl crush freak out

୨ৎ 2. The one and only time she’s ever gone Sevika on someone in real life; and it was to defend you 

୨ৎ You’re sitting on your very first panel at a popular convention, as star-struck by the sea of fans in front of you as they are by the actors and actresses in front of them

୨ৎ This was the most pressure you’d felt during the press tour yet; being interviewed in real time in front of the show’s biggest supporters, answering questions from the show’s biggest supporters

୨ৎ Luckily, the crowd had been great so far

୨ৎ (You’re also sat in between Nina, who always eases your nerves, and Ekko’s actor, who you definitely shouldn’t have been seated next to because all you two do is cut up smh)

୨ৎ Until, a perturbed fan has a question for Nina

୨ৎ “I heard that Natalia Richmond was in the running for the role of Evette; I’m a big fan of both of your work, and I was honestly a little bummed to hear that she wouldn’t be starring alongside you. Not that Y/n didn’t do a good job, but do you wonder what Evette’s character could have looked like if someone else had gotten to take a stab at the character?”

୨ৎ The room falls silent

୨ৎ Your ears burn with embarrassment, and on instinct, you look over to Nina, whose jaw is set

୨ৎ She lowers her mic, turning her head to you with a scoff

୨ৎ “Are you fucking kidding me?”

୨ৎ The crowd lets out an awkward laugh; her mic had picked up her grievance 

୨ৎ Not that she gave a fuck

୨ৎ “Well,” she exhales, bringing the mic back up to her mouth, “truthfully, I don’t think Y/n did a good job. I think she did an incredible job.”

୨ৎ Your breath hitches in your throat

୨ৎ Her voice is stern, assertive; and for the first time since you’ve known her, Nina Singh is pissed

୨ৎ “I wouldn’t have been able to deliver the performance I wanted to this season without her. Sevika’s character arc would not have been executed as well as it was if i’d worked alongside anyone but the woman to my right; so no, I do not wonder what Evette’s character would have looked like if she weren’t played by Y/n, and I haven’t wondered since the day we had our chemistry test.”

୨ৎ With that, she sets the mic down, leaning back and crossing her arms in front of her with a scowl still on her face

୨ৎ The crowd gives her an applause- thankfully, the majority of Arcane’s fans adored you and could not have pictured the Arcane universe without you- and you lean over, giving Nina a “Thank you” and a squeeze on her arm

୨ৎ “Don’t mention it,” she shrugs; and at the sight of the warm smile on your face, she’s a giant teddy bear again

୨ৎ 3. The time you and Nina casually dropped that you’re basically U-Haul Lesbians

୨ৎ You two are setting up for an interview, and the camera is already rolling as your makeup artists powder your faces and your mics are adjusted

୨ৎ The footage starts in the middle of an idle conversation with the journalist

୨ৎ “So you hadn’t heard of RBF until then?” she asks

୨ৎ “I must be getting old,” she shrugs. She gives the makeup artist a soft “Thanks” as they walk away before she continues. “I hadn’t heard that phrase a day in my life; although I had heard that I’m a little unapproachable.”

୨ৎ You chuckle to yourself, thinking of the first time you met Nina; she does tend to sport a furrowed brow, but as soon as she speaks, she’s as kind as can be

୨ৎ “I didn’t think you liked me when we first met,” you muse 

୨ৎ “Oh, well you were right that time. I don’t like you.” 

୨ৎ You all burst out into a fit of laughter 

୨ৎ Anyone who knew of Nina knew of her affection for you

୨ৎ “Right, that’s why we're roomates; because you hate me so much,” you chuckle.

୨ৎ “Exactly- ‘s why we took in a stray cat, too, because who does that with someone they like?"

୨ৎ The journalist is now looking at both of you, gobsmacked

୨ৎ “You mean to tell me you two are living together and took in a stray cat together?”

୨ৎ Cluelessly, you both look to each other, then back to the journalist

୨ৎ “Yeah,” you smile, nodding innocently

୨ৎ “So you two are basically married…” 

୨ৎ Nina snorts, and you giggle, and you both agree

୨ৎ And that night, when you’re both back at home, Nina finally asks:

୨ৎ “Well, since we’re basically married, are you gonna let me take you out to dinner?”

୨ৎ Bonus: 

୨ৎ Yes, there was a sex scene

୨ৎ No, the two of you did not hear the director say cut

୨ৎ Tweets below… enjoy.

End ୨ৎ

[teacupcollector]

Venting Post (141 x Reader)

I apologize that this is the first "Fic" I write after a long hiatus. no guarantee that i am back, but eh.

I have PTSD this is a post of me venting about what i went through which include: Parentification, CSA, Munchausen By Proxy, and more. If this is triggering do not interact with this post. I am out of this situation now, but I am actively getting help for my PTSD. If you or someone you know is experiencing what i have listed please call your local hotline.

If you wish for another part of this or a more Indepth writing because this is all over the place I might write it but it isn't guaranteed. I pulled an all nighter to write this because i cannot sleep.

I realize I use writing as a way of coping, i thought I didn't need to write any more, because im "better" but in reality a person is always healing and wounds will always be reopened in some way or another.

If this helps someone cope in someway I may make it a series, but again it is not guaranteed. Enjoy I guess?

When 141 met you they knew something was different about you. A civilian on the outside, but there was a war brewing behind your eyes. Eyes carrying sorrow, despair, and longing. There was always a wall of contention when it came to the longing though. They could never understand why you would ever want to do the job they did. The death that surrounds them everywhere they went. You were a niece of Laswell's fiancé. Price couldn't understand why a fully capable adult would sit around base and filing paperwork all day. That was over a year ago however and now you all were more closely acquainted… More so infatuated. You hide behind the guise of happiness, confidence, and carefreeness. They know nothing about you or why the war behind your eyes continues to brew, but they catch a glimpse today.

It started slow. You arriving late to meetings, misfiling paperwork, your face looks like it holds many stone just to smile.

"Sorry guys I got caught up with Kate!"

"Sorry I got a call!"

"So sorry… I slept in…"

The nervous fidgets with checking your phone every few minutes increased tenfold, to the point where your eyes were glued to it. Eyes filling with tears waiting to flow over.

After todays meeting you head to the small petrol station for a quick snack. You need to get back to filing the recent mission brief. Your somber music was cut off by a gentle hand being placed on your shoulder. You flinch jumping away from the touch to see the kind eyes and freckled face of Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. He was always kind and quiet.

"Oh hi Kyle…" You take a moment to remove the noise canceling ear buds from your ears.

"Didn't hear you walk up. Do you need anything?" You ask with your weighted smile.

"Sorry Luvie, didn't mean to scare you. Just want to accompany you to the station for a snack." Kyle says with a smile as he falls in step with you.

You both walk in silence for a moment until you come close to an obstacle course. You pause and stare at the soldiers training. Climbing ropes, repelling off walls, moving in tandem with each other as if they are a unit, a one celled organism almost.

Kyle's gaze goes between you and the field and back to you. A look of confliction as he debates on the question he wants to ask.

"If… if you don't mind me asking… why didn't you join the military if you… uh… how do i phrase it… Long for it? I sense jealousy…" Gaz tries his best to be eloquent with his words as to not frighten you.

"I was on to many drugs…" You say almost humorously making Kyles eyes widen. You in take a breath and let out a tense sigh.

"Sorry… Kind of on auto-pilot… The drugging wasn't exactly consensual… well… it was… I… um… you know Gypsy Rose?" You ask as you begin to continue your journey to the store.

"Yes, I do…" Kyle was lying, but he didn't want you to feel the need to explain something if you weren't comfortable.

"Well… minus the parent killing and the jail time…You know the story…" You say as the small petrol station comes into view.

Kyle is now, way more freaked out and regrets not asking you to explain, but you seem to be pulling away from the conversation, so he won't push it for now.

"Yeah… um… apologies…" He didn't even know what he was apologizing for all he knows it will offend you, but when you only nod and pop your ear buds back in before walking into the station. While that happens Kyle does a quick google search.

"No wonder I didn't know what it was… It happened in America…"

As Kyle continues his search he skims articles with multiple mentions of "Munchausen by Proxy" then that lead to another rabbit hole of searches. Kyle turns back to look through the window of the station to see you paying at the counter. His brow furrows with upset before turning back around and pocketing his phone as you walk out.

"Not going to get anything?" You ask as you hand him a water bottle.

"Well since i'm your favorite I knew you'd get me something Luvie." Kyle says with a wink trying to shift his mood into a false happiness. You notice however, but decide not to push as you make your way back toward the barracks.

-

Kyle made Price aware to what he found out as you are apart of the team and your work has been suffering lately. Price's face wore a look of calm with an underlying feeling of hurt. He always tries to keep his face neutral, but he was utterly confused on how you can hold in something so devastating. especially if it was to the extent of what they read about. Little did they know that that was only the half of it.

-

The next time something concerning happened was with Soap, you both decided to go out into town on a day off. You were meeting the rest of the group for a movie at a theatre showing the new Sonic 3 movie. It was the only thing that seemed to bring light to your eyes so they all agreed to go. You were going on and on about how the movie would compare to the lore of the animes, comics, and past shows when you suddenly collide with someone. Johnny was so engrossed in what you were saying that he didn't see the person either.

What he did notice however was the look of terror on your face. You were practically trembling as the person placed a hand on your shoulder to ask if you were okay looking utterly confused, but the moment the person touch you, you flinched and clasped a hand over your mouth. Johnny notices as your cheeks puff out and your eyes water as you quickly turn in the opposite direction and rush away. soap could hardly keep up until you turn into an alley and release the early lunch you and Soap just had. The sounds you were making were making were not human sounding. It was like a terror-stricken animal taking it's last breath. That's when Soap found out you were on the spectrum as well seeing as even hours after that incident you were non-verbal.

Simon had to be the one to carry you back to the car as well as your room, because he was the only one seemingly strong enough to keep ahold of you. Simon recognized immediately what was happening. As it happened with many soldiers and him especially.

-

The final incident started off with a bang. Literally, the sound of smashing glass and animalistic cries of anguished could be heard all throughout the 141 barracks. The first to enter was Price gun in hand and wearing nothing, but briefs he went to sleep in. The sight he gazed upon was broken drinking glasses, smashed picture frames, and you hunched over something with a pair of scissors. crying and grunting as you stab the blade of the scissors into whatever it is.

Price in his delirium was shoved out of the way by a hulking Ghost as he storms into the room wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up off the floor. You make feeble attempts to grasp at what the whole group can see is a raggity old pillow, that has seen it's fair share before being mutilated the way it has been.

"She knew! She knew! SHE KNEW!" You screeched as your whole body goes limp.

Simon had to fall back on to the edge of the bed before sliding off the edge and landing on the floor keeping you curled into his chest as he ripped the scissors from your hand and throwing them far across the room. Simon now forces your head into his chest as he uses his legs to wrap around your lower half as one arm wraps around your shoulders and the other buries it in your hair tugging at your scalp gently to ground you. He coos softly as Gaz and Soap finally walk in to see the carnage you caused. Their eyes land on you and simons maskless face. His eyes share the concern before shaking his head before focusing on you.

-

By the time you come back to your senses you are exhausted small hiccups before your eyes fall closed.

[luvingarisu]

oh my GOD!? GWI NAM😫😫 i’m grasping on to any post about my babe

i beg for some like maybe just relationship headcanons or anything to do with him pretty much!! xx

i love ur writing too it’s so good🤤🫦 pretty please x

i’m glad u like my writing! anything for u gorgeous <3

♡ he’s stupid. i’m so sorry but he is </3

♡ he knows that people don’t actually ‘like’ him, and that they just tolerate him, laugh when he bothers someone, because they’re intimidated by him, after all who wouldn’t be? bro literally stood on a kids head and near about crush their skill.

♡ so because of this, he knows he can’t approach you normally, or at least he thinks he can’t

♡ so instead, he kicks your chair, tugs your hair a little harshly as he walks past, purposefully does that annoying thing where he stands on the back of your shoe to make it come off a little

♡ it’s a little odd though, because at times, it seems more like friendly teasing rather than malicious, and you get confused

♡ you’ve seen him treat other people far worse, like eun-ji, so why is he almost joking in his teasing with you?

♡ maybe you feel a little brave one day as ask him what his deal is, or maybe he realises teasing is getting him nowhere with you, but one day, he really fucking reluctantly tells you why he’s being such a little shit

♡ ears red, avoiding eye contact, slouched against a wall with hands in his pocket, tongue poking at his inner cheek after he asks you out on a little date!

♡ genuinely terrified you’re gonna say no

♡ but you don’t! you say yes! aw how cute <3

♡ he’s not overly sweet, or romantic, but as i’ve said in other posts, he does live to please his s/o. not because he’s a gentleman, but to make sure you won’t leave :(

♡ so, keeping it simple for the first date i honestly just think you guys would go to the cinema :)

♡ it’s cheap, gives you guys something to do, and sometimes to talk about after :)

♡ i really can’t see him being very affectionate on your first few dates, not that he doesn’t want to, but i really think he’d be uncharacteristically timid around someone he actually likes

♡ after a few dates he would just assume you’re a couple.

♡ he wouldn’t ask, why does he need to?? you like him, he likes you, you guys have hugged and kissed, isn’t that enough to seal the deal?

♡ only asks when he realises you’re sad he hasn’t😭

♡ “am i not already your boyfriend though??? :/“

♡ “fine, i’ll ask.”

♡ because he likes you, he’s happy to do so, he just really doesn’t understand why it’s needed

♡ he isn’t timid forever though, once he’s sure you’re together for real he’s a cocky asshole.

♡ ruffles your hair, bites your cheek or shoulder, draws on your hand in class, if you’re a smoker will blow smoke into your face when you guys sneak away for a cigarette during lunch

♡ not super publicly affectionate but doesn’t mind slinging an arm around your shoulder

♡ LOVESSS when you hug his bicep instead of holding his hand. makes him feel all big n’ strong

♡ also makes you light his cigarettes for him, something about it is just so hot and he fucking loves it

♡ goes over to your place a lot more than you go to his. honestly, you’ve probably only met his parents once and he likes it that way

♡ i dont think his parents are terrible or anything, but i think he can tell they’re disappointed in him, with his grades and behaviour, so he doesn’t enjoy being at home much

♡ SLEEPSS every time he’s at yours. your bed is his.

♡ runs hot, like furnace hot. the boy is an incinerator so the moment he’s at yours, his shirt is off, he’s changed into joggers and he’s sleeping on top of the covers.

♡ because he runs so hot, no cuddling in bed. he’ll have you on his chest or an arm around you watching a movie, or talking, but as soon as you guys sleep you’re on opposite ends of the bed because he just gets uncomfortably warm😭

♡ if your parents are cool with him sleeping over you’re late for school every time because you just cannot get him out of bed

♡ at school, you’re getting pulled away for the sloppiest make out sessions

♡ he’s such a perv for you, the moment he gets the chance, you’re being dragged to the construction site, pushed against a wall with his tongue licking into your hot, wet, open mouth, one hand in your hair and one on your ass

♡ passes lewd, dirty notes to you in class

♡ once he’s comfortable he’s just horny all the time i fear

♡ draws on your hands in class too, but it isn’t cute stuff, he’ll probably draw a penis or something

♡ special occasions!!!

♡ he doesn’t really go all out, and he doesn’t want you to either

♡ for his birthday he’d really just prefer some convenience store food and a casual date or sitting in your house😭

♡ doesn’t want too many presents, just a few small things, maybe a new jacket or cologne

♡ asks for birthday head

♡ for your birthday, again, the presents are small, but little things he’d know you’d like

♡ they aren’t wrapped, probably just shoved in his backpack or maybe a gift bag

♡ why buy wrapping paper if you’re jus’ gonna tear it open anyway???

♡ doesn’t really care for valentines day, but he will buy you little things like your favourite sweets if you care about it, but he will NOT give them to you at school because that’s embarrassing!

♡ doesn’t buy cheesy shit like heart shaped chocolates or whatever, if he’s buying you something he wants you to actually like it, and he thinks those little stuffed valentines bears look stupid

♡ is ODDLY sweet when he meets your parents

♡ similar to the scene in the principal’s office when he and his group were being questioned about bullying eun-ji, jin-su, and cheol-su, he’s a terrifyingly good actor

♡ “thank you for having me :)”

♡ “the food was lovely, thank you so much :)”

♡ OSCAR winning performance honestly

♡ will ask u to do his homework </3

♡ not really huge on pet names, he usually calls you mean shit to tease you, and actually enjoys when you do it back

♡ he wants someone he can joke and mess about with

♡ but if he does use little pet names it’s probably something simply like baby, and honestly only really uses it in private or when you’re making out

♡ or fucking

♡ lowkey, a surprisingly decent boyfriend, just not super romantic or anything

♡ but he’s loyal, because as i’ve said, he wouldn’t even consider dating someone unless he was super sure about them

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crushed 21

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine

Note: Surprise.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

You’re late. Despite all your warnings and effort, you’re late. Your mother is going to kill you. 

As you get out of the car, your thighs brush together and you quiver. He left a bite mark right along the meat of your leg. His ravenous energy swept you entirely off your feet. You think he shifted a few pins in your hair even. 

He’s unbothered. As calm as her ever is. Well, your mother’s wrath won’t be aimed at him. 

He comes around and you latch onto his proffered arm for strength. He walks you toward the hall and your heels tap loudly. The noise addles you’re already swirling nerves. 

You enter through the heavy double doors. You hear a buzzy beyond the sign that denotes your family’s party with an arrow. Jonathan keeps your steps even. You shrink down as you approach the archway. 

“Darling, do stand tall,” he bids as he smooths his jacket with his free hand. 

You push your shoulder back and glance at him. He’s so handsome and perfect. His blonde hair is combed back so effortlessly and its as if his features were crafted so that he could never look anything but certain. More than ever, you feel out of place. 

As you enter,  you look around. Your mother finds you first as she accosts you by your other arm. She hisses at you. 

“You’re late,” she sneers. “How lucky you are that the catering is too or you’d have awful timing.” 

“Mom,” you flinch and look at her. 

“Oh, Eugenia, please forgive me and do not hold it against your daughter. It’s quite my fault. I should have pressed my suit yesterday,” he speaks over you before you can muster an apology. “How utterly inconsiderate of me.” 

She winces and looks at him. Her expression brightens and she smiles, “oh, Jonathan, I’m so happy you could make it. Ah, and you look so dashing. What a suit that is.” 

“Me? You’re daughter is glowing, I wilt in her shine,” he banters. Your mother’s eyes dart over sharply and her brows arch. “And I’ve saved my best suit for the day of.” 

“Oh,  yes, I’m certain you will be entirely charming, as always,” she as good as ignores you as she steps around you and clasps his other arm. “Let me introduce you to the rest them.” 

“Yes, let us get it over with before I fall to shambles,” he chuckles. 

You let your arm slacken but he does not let you slip away. He merely shifts and instead brings his hand to the small of your back. You walk along with him, gripping your clutch tighter and tighter. 

Geri turns and spots your mother. She waves but falters in her ivory sheath dress. She tweaks her head as she steps past your other sisters, away from her groom. 

“Mom,” she crosses toward you. “There you are, we were just about to get everyone seated. Who’s this?” She looks at Jonathan then flinches as her eyes fall on you, “oh!” Her eyes round, “I hardly recognised you. You brought a date.” 

“Geri,” you give a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, uh, this is Jonathan.” 

She preens up at him and offers her hand, “Jonathan, it’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard nothing about you.” 

“Yes, well, it has been a rather whirlwind romance,” he unsnakes his arm from your mother’s and shakes Geri’s hand. “I’m honoured to be invited. You look wonderful. A blushing bride.” 

She giggles, “oh, English? That’s quite the accent.” 

“Ha, I suppose.” He lets her go and slips his hand around your hip, drawing you closer. 

“You know, I almost did a destination wedding. I looked at a few places over there. Some castles.” 

“Castles? Yes, many do think those are rather amusing, don’t they?” 

Your sister twitches. The way he says it is almost patronizing. As if he were speaking to a child, yet his accent makes it hard to be sure. 

“Well, we are so happy to have you here. Nice of her to finally find a date,” she snickers. “So good to see you, sis.”  

She squeezes your shoulder and flutters away. You blink after her and your mother sighs and claps her hands. “There are three more!” She turns and marches forward, “Vicky, come,” she beckons to your oldest sister. She is swollen and waddling. “This is Jonathan,” she introduces as Vicky leans on her husband, Marshall. 

“A pleasure,” Jonathan shakes both their hands, “should you not sit?” 

Vicky chuckles, “oh no, I can manage,” she rubs her stomach. “I’m fine.” 

“I didn’t know you had a man,” Marshall comments. 

You shrug and Jonathan’s fingers curl deeper into your hip. 

“Good things come to those who wait,” Jonathan rebuffs. 

“And my other girls,” your mother ushers you onward. “Charmaine, Sienna,” she beckons them closer, “these are my youngest, “both in school still.” 

“Ah, you’ve quite the brood. No sons?” Jonathan muses. 

“Oh, it isn’t for lack of trying,” she chirps. You make a face. “It helps that we started early, like Vicky.” 

“Well, I’m certain we’ll make a go of it,” Jonathan laughs. You gulp and look at him sharply. The insinuation is chilling. Kids? You only just started dating? That’s what it is, right? You assure yourself he’s only putting on a front. 

“Yes, well, as you said, good things come to those who wait,” your mother hums. “Forgive me, I must help. We’re about to begin.” 

She clops away in her heels and you chew the inside of your lip. Well, that wasn’t a whole disaster. Jonathan was the perfect shield against the onslaught, if not a bit much. Sienna nudges you, “you’re sitting with us.” 

You follow your sisters to a table. Jonathan pulls out your chair. Vicky sits and watches you do the same, Marshall already in his seat. Her eyes narrow. You thank your escort and he sits beside you, shifting his chair closer. 

“Darling,” he leans in, “I must remind you for it strikes me every time I look, but you are beautiful.” 

“Jonathan,” your murmur. 

“It is the truth,” he brings his lips close to your ear and softens to a whisper, “especially in your afterglow.” 

The allusion to your prior activities makes you squirm. He puts a kiss on your cheek and hums. You smile and pat his knee. 

“You are too much,” you keep your voice low. “Please, it’s my sister’s dinner.” 

“And yet all I see is you,” he continues. Your younger sisters giggle and peek over at you. “I wonder if we might sneak off during the speeches and find somewhere.... private.” 

You blanch and grab his hand as he rests it on your leg. You smile and turn to him, “let’s wait until we get home.” 

His blue eyes search your face and he grins, “home?” He echoes. “Yes, for you, I would wait.” 

💗

As you come out of the hall, you yawn. You take out your phone and the shine makes you wince. It’s dark as the moon shimmers through streaky clouds. You trip as your heel catches a crack in the lot. 

“Darling, you should really look where you’re going and not at your phone,” Jonathan girds, “besides, the light is not good for your eyes in the dark.” 

“Sorry, I just...” you trail off as your phone vibes. It’s your mom. Already. 

‘You better not be late for the wedding!’ You sigh. It’s your fault always your fault. 

You reply with a thumbs up and reach for the car door. It opens before you can grab the handle. Jonathan exhales as he holds it for you. You sit in the passenger seat and thank him. 

He shuts it without a word. Your phone buzzes again. You’re surprised that for how long you didn’t have it, you got almost no calls or text. Your mom, once more; ‘Jonathan is lovely. Try not to ruin it’. 

You frown as Jonathan gets into the driver’s seat. He buckles up his seat belt and reminds you to the same. You rest the cell in your lap as you click in into place. You pick up your phone as it buzzes a third time. 

It’s Geri. She’s resent her invitation, a passive aggressive reminder of when you need to be at the church. Yes, you get it. You were late. You huff. 

“Darling, you shouldn’t spend so much time on that if it makes you unhappy,” Jonathan chides. 

“It’s just my family--” 

“The light will make it hard to drive,” he interjects and snatches it from your hand. He taps the side button and puts it in the cup holder. “The blue light will also affect your sleep so late.” 

You look down at your empty hands and frown. You don’t mention his late night calls to his parents, there must be blue light in the tablet. You don’t because you wouldn’t. You clasp your hands together. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t meaning--” 

“I do hate to see your upset,” he twists the key in the ignition. “You know that and I would not have you moping over that device anon.” 

“I know, I wasn’t, erm, moping.” 

“You should relax,” he pulls out of the spot. “Things are going well, are they not? Your family was rather pleasant.” 

Yeah, to you. 

You don’t voice your chagrin out loud. It isn’t fair. Jonathan has been so supportive and you just bring everything down. After all, you’re not a victim, all this is your own fault. 

“I think I should fit right in,” he continues, “don’t you?” 

“Oh, Jonathan,” you begin, “sure, but... it’s a bit early, isn’t it?” 

“Early? Well, I’m certainly doey-eyed for you, fawn, but it isn’t so bad. I would say it’s worth the risk,” he affirms. 

You feel worse for his declaration. Guilty because you’re still a mess. Your heart aches for another even as he plucks at it. You wish it would stop. You wish you didn’t care about Colin anymore. You wish your brain was in your chest instead of this useless thing. 

“Do you not... feel the same?” He asks sheepishly. 

“Jonathan, of course I like you. I... you’re so wonderful to me and this is... amazing,” you fidget. “It’s late, I’m sorry, I’m a bit burnt out from all that.” 

He drones a disappointed tone, “yes it was rather long.” 

“It was,” you agree and stare out the window. You don’t want to let him down. Not like everyone else. 

“Well, when we get in, how about...” he slithers, “you take your shoes off, take your hair down, wash off your make up...” he steers between the streetlights, “then I’ll help you out of your dress. You can lay down and I’ll help you relax.” 

You sit in silence, shifting at the heat that sparks in your core. 

“I’ll start with your shoulders, you care a lot there, then your back... feel all the perfection beneath my fingertips,” he clears his throat and shudders out his breath, “then your hips, those precious curves, and that bottom...” 

“Jonathan,” you squeak. 

“And your thighs, I shall need to work those well. The calves and ankles, so delicate, and your feet. Those shoes must be untenable,” he purrs. “And when you are putty, I will turn you over and bow to you as a proper gentleman. As I did before our departure--” 

“Stop,” you wisp and squirm. 

“Darling,” he growls, “I can hardly wait.” 

He startles you as he reaches across the car. The light limns his sleeve as he tugs at your skirt. You wriggle and clasp onto his wrist. 

“Jonathan, the car--” 

“I can manage,” he tuts and shakes off your grasp. He dips his hand beneath the hem of the skirt and tickles along your thigh. The fabric rumples around his arm. “Mmm,” he flutters his fingers just beneath your pelvis, “I can feel your warmth already.” 

He presses his fingertips against your panties. You twitch and yelp in surprise. He rubs against the lace, the friction heating up instantaneously. You quiver and murmur as he pushes down on your clit, rolling it beneath his touch. He purrs and you can’t help but echo him. 

You soak through your panties and he clucks, “fawn, you are wet.” 

You squeal and latch onto the door as you writhe, legs splayed. “I... I know.” 

“Naughty minx,” he keeps his fingers moving, slowly, steadily. Enough to tease but not enough to take you over the edge. “You will not cum until we get home.” 

“Huh?” You choke and reach over to grab his shoulder, your stomach clenching as you crush his hand between your thighs. 

“You heard me. You will not cum. Not until I say so.” He wiggles his fingers and you puff out weakly. “Or you will be thoroughly punished.” 

You close your eyes and moan, slapping your hand against the window as you tremble. 

“Say, ‘yes, Mr. Pine’, so I know you understand,” his voice is rigid as steel. It makes you whine again. 

“Yes, Mr. Pine,” you gasp.