#and I asked him if we’re able to do the stuff we talked about without taking money out of savings . | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 2 months ago

Text

Champagne Problems | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Oh, hi! Truly, sometimes you just don't know the answer till someone's on their knees and asks you, you know? Also I hope my taglist works this time but who the fuck knows.

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: engagement / wedding talk, mentions of alcohol

Nat flipped through your list of invitees, crossing off a few names as she scanned the page. She took it upon herself to help you stuff, address, and mail the invitations for your engagement party, because in her words, you were “dragging your feet”. There were only five or so weeks left until the event, and you just hadn’t found the time to sit down and sort out the invitations. At least, that’s the excuse you told Nat- and yourself.

“Okay, we’re finally making some progress, we’re about halfway done,” Nat called from the dining table. “Shit. Without me, no one would even show up to this fucking party.” She didn’t mean for you to hear that second part- but her voice echoed through your nearly empty apartment.

Almost everything you owned was gone; either sold, or stored, or moved into the house you were to share with your fiancé, Cole. All that remained was your clothes, your bed, and a few odds and ends. It would’ve been far easier, far more convenient, to stay in your new house instead of living out of cardboard boxes. And far more aesthetically pleasing. The house was a nice- nicer than you’d ever be able to afford yourself. And it was beautiful. There was a lush garden in the backyard. A swing on the front porch. Even a white picket fence. You described it to everyone as “picturesque.”

But the lease on your apartment wasn’t up quite yet. You still had a few weeks until your move-out date, and you wanted to soak in as much time at the old place as you could. You loved it here. Loved the worn wooden floors and the doors that didn’t hang straight. The dent in the wall where Bucky bonked his metal elbow when you popped out of the hall closet and scared him. The corner in your bedroom where you and Bucky made a blanket fort during last winter’s blizzard. Memories papered the walls and covered the floors of this place- and most of them involved Bucky.

This was home. And while the new house was great- and fully paid for by your fiancé’s wealthy parents- it didn’t feel like you belonged there. It didn’t welcome you in or fill you with warmth. Cole’s mom said it just needed the right décor. Your friends told you it needed time. But deep down, you knew that no amount of beautiful area rugs, no amount of time, could turn your house with Cole into a home. There would always be one thing missing, one glaring and flagrant void.

Bucky.

“You’re inviting Bucky?” Nat looked up from the list and found you coming around the corner with a bowl of popcorn in hand. Her incredulous expression nearly stopped you in your tracks.

You gave her a strange look, “Yeah, of course. He’s my best friend. Why wouldn’t he be invited?”

“Okay, first of all,” Nat scoffed, “He’s your best friend- present company excluded. And second, do you really think that’s a good idea?”

You threw a few pieces of popcorn into your mouth as you settled into your chair. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Nat rolled her eyes, “Because I don’t think it’s smart to invite the guy you’re actually in love with to a party celebrating your engagement to another man.” She threw you a shrug, “but hey, that’s just me.”

“Woah-” you almost choked on your popcorn. “I’m not in love with Bucky.”

It was the most absurd thing Nat had ever heard. “I’m not in love with Bucky!” she jeered, imitating your voice. “Yeah, right.”

“Okay, okay, jesus,” you raised your hands, miming a surrender. “I did- at one point- have romantic feelings for him,” you conceded, “but that was a while ago.”

“Oh, at one point?” Nat crossed her arms over her chest. “You say that like you had a small crush on him for a week, when we both know your ‘romantic feelings’ have been a constant ever since you became friends with the guy.”

Her accusations weren’t necessarily wrong. But they were loud. And pointed. And rubbed salt in your many wounds. “It was …” you gave a small shake of your head. “We never got the timing right, you know? It just didn’t work in our favor.” The heartache with which you’d grown familiar reared its ugly head. “But it’s fine,” you told her. “I’m engaged, now. So.”

Ever since you boyfriend, Cole, became your fiancé, you’d done your best to kill and bury your longing for Bucky. But your feelings for him weren’t so easily vanquished. They were strong and boisterous and loud. At least a few times a day, they launched themselves at you out of nowhere. At work. At the grocery store. At dinner with Cole and his parents. Nowhere was safe. Everywhere you went, things reminded you of Bucky. Of your favorite person. Of the person to whom you were not engaged.

The desperate pining for him tore your still-healing wounds wide open. Every time your gaze landed on your engagement ring, every time a friend mentioned your impending wedding, a sharp pain sliced through your chest. And each time, you were forced to acknowledge the fact that you were not, in fact, getting married to Bucky.

“Um, anyway…” you cleared your throat, “Of course, I’m inviting Bucky. And the subject isn’t open for debate, by the way. It’s my party and I’ll invite who I want to.”

You grabbed an invitation and a blank envelope from the stacks in front of Nat and positioned them in front of you. If Nat didn’t want you inviting Bucky, there was a more than significant chance that she’d conveniently “forget” to address an invite for him. And so, you scrawled his name and address onto an envelope and affixed a stamp in the corner. Come hell or high water, he was going to get his invitation. Even if he didn’t want to come.

The night of the party arrived sooner than you expected. Sooner than you’d hoped.

The house was abuzz with people running in and out, carrying food and linens and liquor; you knew you’d be requiring the latter in order to survive the night. Florists arrived to cover the house in perfect, beautiful blooms. A team of caterers brought with them enough fine food to feed an army. And a flawless, two-tiered cake with delicate lacy piping sat on the dining room table, complete with yours and Cole’s initials. All of it was perfect. Picturesque, really. It was exactly what you wanted- but Cole wasn’t who you wanted it with.

Every few minutes, you checked your phone in search of a text from Bucky. The deadline to RSVP had come and gone almost two weeks ago, and he never gave you an answer one way or another. He ignored your “hey, are you coming to my party?” texts, and your “just wanted to know if you plan on coming to the party” voicemails. He ignored almost all of your correspondence, actually.

Lately, he’d only been answering about a third of your texts and a quarter of your calls. It was unlike him. It was unheard of, really. On multiple occasions in the past, he answered your calls while taking heavy fire; you could actually hear the bullets whizzing by on his end of the line. But now, things were quiet. And you forced yourself to accept that fact that he was not coming to your party.

The festivities kicked off around seven-thirty, and you found your house full to the brim with party goers. All of Cole’s friends showed up. His childhood friends, his college buddies, his old soccer team- they all arrived with bells on. And your friends were well represented, too. High school pals, your book club, a close coworker or two. They were all so excited to see you, so happy that you found someone.

Even Bucky’s teammates made an appearance. They were his friends first, of course, but growing close with him meant growing close to them. And you’d build unbreakable bonds with Sam, Nat, Wanda, and Maria. They were thrilled for you and more than happy to attend your party- even if Bucky wouldn’t be there.

With your house so full, so jam-packed with friends, you thought you wouldn’t notice the pain of Bucky’s absence. But you did. Of course, you did. And you found yourself feeling painfully alone in a sea of people.

Without Bucky there, the night seemed to fall flat. The flowers lost their vibrance. The food was bland. And the music sounded disjointed and off-tempo. Things just weren’t the same.

People swarmed you every few seconds, hollering their congratulations and asking to see the ring again. They asked you about venues and dresses, bridesmaids and center pieces. Everyone meant well- you knew they did. But as the throngs of people refused to relent with their questions about table linens, your chest began to tighten. A hard, concrete cast wrapped itself around your lungs, preventing them from expanding. A suffocating lack of oxygen rendered your dizzy. It was all too much. The people and the music and the impending nuptials. Even the sensation Cole’s hand on your waist was too much, too tight, too smothering.

With a whispered “be right back”, you moved swiftly through the crowd and escaped out the front door. If you could just get some space, some quiet, some oxygen, you’d be fine.

The door provided you with much needed support as you tilted and teetered on unsteady feet. The panic, the alcohol, the high heels- it all combined to form a dizzying, possibly lethal combination. But at least you were outside. As least you were free. The cool night air prickled at your skin, and finally, your lungs filled to capacity. A few deep inhales cleared the fog from your mind. With closed eyes, you tipped your head back against the door and let yourself enjoy the quiet. Sure, the music from your playlist leaked into the night air, but this was the closest thing to silence you’d experienced all night. And you were not going to complain.

As your heartbeat slowed, you told yourself it would be okay. That everything was going to be fine. That you’d figure out how to handle the situation. And, if only for a moment, you actually believed your fabrications. A sense of peace wrapped around you like a blanket, and a welcome calm settled into your bones.

But the creak of a porch step yanked your eyes open.

And there you found Bucky, frozen on the second to last stair, with giftbox in hand. He eyed you as though he were a prey animal, wondering if you’d seen him, waiting for his chance to escape. But it was too late; he’d been caught.

“Buck?”

He forced a smile, “Hey.”

“Hi!” you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck with an intensity that would’ve injured a mere mortal. He reeled back a few paces as your momentum knocked into him. “I’m so glad you’re here! didn’t think you were coming!”

His arms draped loosely- weakly- behind your back. It wasn’t much- but it was better than no Bucky at all. And after he failed to respond to your messages, didn’t answer your calls, and made himself scarce over the last few months, you’d take whatever you could get.

“Right. Yeah. Well, technically, I’m not-” He untangled himself from your arms and pointed at the perfectly wrapped giftbox. “I just wanted to drop off your present.”

“Oh, thanks. That’s-” Dismay dripped from your words, “Wait, you’re not staying?”

Bucky gave a shake of his head. He avoided your eyeline and chose, instead, to look at anything other than you. The grass. The porch light. His own shoes. “I can’t, sorry.”

It crushed you. Having him stop by for only a moment was far worse than him not showing up at all. Because now, you had to deal with the loss. The pain of his departure. For him to grant you the warmth of his presence, only to snatch it away moments later was almost cruel. How could he leave when you were finally seeing the world in color? How could he go when the music finally made sense with him by your side?

You didn’t want to beg. Didn’t want to make him feel bad. Didn’t want to seem pathetic. But the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “You can’t stay for even a little while?”

The disappointment in your voice broke his heart. And he had half a mind to forget his plan and allow you to escort him inside. But he stood firm. “I would,” he shoved his hands into his pockets. “But I have to go pick up a friend from the airport.”

The words hit you in a strange place. A pin-prick pain nipped at your chest- you’d caught him in a lie. “Buck, no offense, but all your friends are inside.” You gestured toward the house with a nod of your head. It was true- all of Bucky’s closest friends were dancing the night away in your living room. And he was caught red handed.

“Right…” His teeth dug into the smooth flesh of his cheek; his eyes roamed the yard. He should’ve known better than to use such a lame excuse- he did know better. He couldn’t casually lie around you; you knew him too well. But the pressure got to him, and forced cracks into his cool, marble surface. He hadn’t even expected to see you tonight, let alone talk to you. The painful awkwardness of the moment ate through him like acid.

“So… you can stay?” Your words came out too desperate, too expectant. But you couldn’t help it. You’d do anything to get him to hang around- even if he didn’t seem excited about it. Hell, you’d beg him on your knees if that’s what it took. Anything to get him to stay.

“Uh, yeah,” he shrugged. “I guess I can.”

Finally, he let his eyes land on you. After choosing to avert his gaze for so long, he wasn’t strong enough to do so any longer. He had to look at you, to take in every detail of your face. But as he drank you in slowly, inch by inch, in the light of the full moon, a strange solemnity sunk its teeth into him. Perfectly imperfect curls framed your face. A flawless diamond sat at the hollow of your throat. You were even wearing his favorite lipstick of yours- the one he said made you look like a vintage Hollywood star. He eyed your delicate, lacy white dress. Your white strappy heels with bows on the ties. Your white nails. And the perfect, glistening diamond adorning the ring finger of your left hand.

Everything about you was so beautiful. So bridal. It made his chest tight.

“You look really nice,” he said, almost bashful. “Beautiful.”

“I, um- thanks. Thank you.”

This stupid white dress. With its stupid lace and its stupid pearls and its stupid bridal flare. You hated it. Resented it. Wanted to take scissors to its seams. But if you were to play the role of Cole’s blushing bride, you had to dress the part, didn’t you? You had to don your fiancée costume and take part in the production.

But, regardless of your feelings about the outfit, your heart still flared at Bucky’s compliment. One simple word of praise from him had such a startling, intense effect on you. And suddenly, you were in high school again. He filled you with a sense of giddy adoration that you hadn’t experienced since the tenth grade. This was the stuff of love notes stuffed into lockers. Of first kisses under the bleachers. But your feelings for him could never be as fleeting or as shallow as those of your youth. No, this was the stuff of forever.

“Hello?” Bucky gave you a wave. “You okay?”

An awkward laugh escaped your chest, “Yeah. Sorry, I kinda spaced out there for a second. Did you say something?”

“I said, what are you doing outside?” He eyed the packed house. Twinkling lights shone through the windows. Crowds of people danced and drank champagne. Music wafted through the air. “Shouldn’t you be in there? At the party? Cause, you know, it’s for you.”

Just the thought of going back to the party made your stomach turn. Part of you wondered if you might be able to hide outside all night; just stay in the yard until the festivities came to a close. Hell, maybe you could even run away. You could get pretty far if you started walking and didn’t look back. By the time the party ended, you could be deep in the heart of Brooklyn- you could be at Bucky’s.

“Yeah, no, I probably- I should be inside. But, I’m just…” you took in a sharp breath. It hitched in your windpipe and got stuck for a moment. “I got a little overwhelmed, you know? With the noise, and the people and the… everything. So, I came out here to-” To hide. To escape. To flee. “To get some air.”

Bucky could’ve sworn he sensed something lurking beneath your calm surface. It was the slightest change in your voice, the smallest twitch of your brow. He clocked the way your hands never stilled. The way your teeth dug into the inside of your cheek. Something was off.

He sat in the long silence, waiting for you to open the vault and show him your secrets. But the lock remained secure. You didn’t say anything else, didn’t hint at the source of your discontent. He eyed your manufactured smile, but couldn’t seem to crack it.

Things never used to be this way. He didn’t keep secrets from you, and you wouldn’t dream of hiding anything from him- there was no reason to. Neither of you had to fear judgement or ridicule from the other. Your most embarrassing stories, Bucky’s darkest thoughts- they were all safe with the other.

But an unfamiliar disconnect had pulled the two of you apart. And Bucky could no longer read your soul like a book.

“Everything’s okay, though. Right?” He eyed you with suspicion. With concern.

You nodded- maybe too fervently. “Yeah. For sure,” a fake smile stretched across your face, “Just stressed, I guess.”

“And he treats you right?” It was one of the things Bucky worried about most. Sure, the house was nice. And the ring was huge. But did Cole speak to you with kindness? Did he show you empathy and understanding? Did he make you feel safe?

“Yes.”

Bucky breathed a small sigh of relief. Knowing that Cole handled you with care brought a sliver of ease to his worried mind. “So, you’re happy then?”

It was all Bucky ever wanted for you. A safe life, a happy life. But the answer wasn’t yes or no. This was the farthest thing from a black and white situation. On more than one occasion, you told yourself to just be happy. You thought that if you willed it, if you said it with conviction- then it would be true. And the happiness you were supposed to feel around your fiancé would magically spring up around you. But it didn’t. Every day, you waited. Every day, you told yourself to just be fucking happy. Cole gave you everything. He was nice and agreeable and provided you with the resources to do anything you’d ever wanted. But the happiness never came. At one point, you decided you’d settle for contentment. But that too evaded you.

“Um, do you wanna sit?” It was the best subject change you could come up with on such short notice. “The porch is free. Come on.”

Before Bucky could respond, he found your fingers linked with his. Chills traveled up his arm, over his shoulder, and across his scalp. Even the most innocent of your touches sent his dopamine levels through the roof. He’d never experienced ecstasy like this ever before- and knew he never would again. Especially not after your wedding.

He knew it was selfish to feel anything less than happy for you. You were engaged, you were getting married- this was what you wanted. You wanted marriage. A lifelong partner. A “till death do us part” kind of relationship. And now, you finally had it. So, who was Bucky to ruin it for you? Who was he to hope that you’d leave Cole at the altar? He forbade himself from ever being that selfish. If he was truly your closest friend, he had to be happy for you- even if it meant that he could never be anything more than your friend.

With his hand in yours, you led Bucky to the porch. And regardless of the brand-new patio furniture Cole’s parents gifted you, you and Bucky opted to sit on the steps. Crickets chirped every now and again. A cool breeze wafted through the trees, rattling the leaves. Voices and music and the clatter of dishes seeped through the windows. You didn’t notice any of it.

Because, finally, you had what you wanted- if only for a moment.

It was the simplest, most innocent desire you’d ever had. To sit on the front steps with Bucky. To share a home with him. To drink coffee next to him on the porch each morning. To watch the rain from safety of your porch swing with Bucky’s head in your lap.

If you ignored the white dress and the engagement ring and the pop of champagne bottles, you could almost believe that this was Bucky’s house, too. That the two of you could go inside and retire to bed. That you could wake up in the morning, wrapped in his arms. You could almost believe it. Almost.

The two of you sat in silence, planning your words carefully. Conversation felt like a mine field, and one misstep could send either of you to your death. But the warmth radiating off Bucky’s his body wrapped you in a familiar comfort. The narrow steps didn’t provide much in the way of sitting room, forcing Bucky to sit almost shoulder to shoulder with you- not that he’d ever complain.

With every gust of wind, he caught a whiff of your perfume- the perfume he loved so much. The scent that often clung to his hair and weaved itself into the fabric of his clothes. It mixed with the smell of early spring- crisp air and new blooms. And he felt himself losing his resolve. He did his best to put distance between the two of you, to protect his heart and yours. But as you leaned your body against his and rested your head on his shoulder. He wondered why the fuck he’d ever leave your side.

You, too, lost all strength. And suddenly, you didn’t care about misspeaking.

“I miss you, Buck…” Present tense. Because, even with him next to you, you missed him. Missed the way things used to be. “I feel like I never see you anymore.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy with work, and trying to prove myself…” He let out a heavy sigh. Of course, regardless of his intentional distance from you, work really was killing him. “Everyone at SWORD is paranoid- they’re convinced that there’s a secret faction of Hydra growing within their organization.”

“Hmm, that’s so weird. I wonder why they’d be worried about that.” You gave bucky a nudge, and pulled a laugh- your favorite laugh- from his chest.

“Yeah, yeah,” he shot you an eye roll. “But you’re probably really busy, too. With all the wedding planning.”

His mention of the wedding shattered your perfect, maladaptive daydreams. All the noise from the party once again filled your consciousness. And the weight of Cole’s engagement ring felt like an anchor, dragging you down to the deepest, loneliest sea. Bucky wished he hadn’t brought it up as you removed your head from his shoulder.

“Oh, yeah, no. It’s been-” you felt yourself closing off a bit, and did your best to fight it. “I haven’t actually planned a single thing. At all. So.”

Bucky gave you a strange look. It wasn’t like you to put things off, to procrastinate. He knew you to be an organized, ahead of the curve type of person. You were always the one who had a plan, always the one who over-prepared. He figured that in the few months since your engagement, you’d have planned at least a few things- if not the entire wedding and honeymoon.

“Do you have a date at least?” He pulled out his phone, “I want to put it in my calendar.”

Bucky would be there to support you no matter what, even if watching you marry another man killed him.

“Um, no, there’s no date yet,” you said. “Cole’s parents belong to a really fancy country club and said we could get married there- it’s beautiful. All I have to do is contact the club’s event coordinator and figure out which days are available. I just-” you dropped your eyes to the ground, “I haven’t yet.”

Bucky didn’t like your downcast gaze or your uncertain voice. There was something eating at you- he’d bet his life on it. Maybe you were just overwhelmed. Maybe you felt like you were behind on all the decisions that needed to be made. Either way, he wanted to help.

He threw you a shrug. “Well, there’s no rush, is there?”

He took your left hand in both of his and gave it squeeze, but regretted the gesture when your engagement ring dug into his palm. You were getting married to someone else; he had to stop touching you like this. Had to stop treating you like you were still on the market. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or disrespect your relationship. And so, he dug his hands into his pockets.

“I mean some people don’t start planning right away, right?” He said, “They wanna take their time and enjoy the engagement for a while, and-

“I’m not.”

“You’re not what?”

“Enjoying my engagement.” You had half a mind to take off the ring and launch it into the street. You’d dreamed about doing so every day, actually. Dreamed of throwing it on the subway tracks. Or dropping it through a grate on the street.

Alarm ran through Bucky’s system like wildfire. “Is everything okay? Is it-”

Finally, you lifted your eyes and met Bucky’s stare.

“I don’t want to marry him.”

Bucky felt his brain short circuit. He forgot how to breathe, how to speak. His thoughts tangled themselves together in tight, writhing knots. Words bounced off the walls of his skull without meaning. This wasn’t what he’d expected you to say.

“Um, why-” he cleared his throat, “why not?”

He cringed at his own question. Maybe it wasn’t his business. Maybe you didn’t want to get into the details. But you were upset. And if there was any chance at all that you’d want to vent or use Bucky as a sounding board, he was going to listen.

But there was nothing for him to listen to. For a long time, you didn’t answer. Because to you, the answer was stupid. To you, it sounded like bullshit. Like you’d wasted Cole’s time and love and money. Like you were some noncommittal, unsure child. You rolled your eyes at yourself- as you had every day since Cole’s proposal.

“I just don’t- I don’t love him,” you finally said. “I’m not in love with him. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s great. He’s a really nice person…” And he was. He was kind. He was understanding. He was thoughtful. But he wasn’t the one- he wasn’t Bucky. “He hasn’t done anything wrong. And he’s given me- he’s given me everything. But, I just don’t love him like I-”

You stopped yourself. The words that danced on the tip of your tongue were too risky, too dangerous. You wrangled them before they had the chance to escape- before they had the chance to push Bucky away- and locked them behind bars.

But they screamed inside your mind. ‘I don’t love him like I love you’ echoed again and again, reverberating every few seconds. Part of you feared Bucky might hear it.

“Um, I don’t love him like-” you rerouted, “Like I always imagined. You know? I don’t feel the way I thought I would.”

Bucky considered your words for a long time. Unlike you, he didn’t think it was bullshit. Or stupid. Or childish. He set his feelings for you aside, not allowing them to cloud his judgement, and thought about your predicament.

“Well, you don’t have to, you know,” he finally said. “Marry him, I mean.”

You gave him a subtle nod. Maybe he was right. But a larger problem- a more important problem- loomed. And while you’d spent the past few months hemming and hawing about marrying Cole, there was another issue at hand that ate you alive every single day.

“Why have you been avoiding me, Buck?” It wasn’t angry. It wasn’t accusatory. You just needed to know.

For the third time that night, Bucky found himself caught red-handed. “What?”

“Ever since I got engaged, you’ve been avoiding me.”

The hurt in your voice was unmistakable. And though Bucky knew it was truth, his first instinct was to refute. To deny. To deflect.

“No, I haven’t. I’m not avoiding you,” he said, putting on an air of offense. “I’ve been busy with work and-”

“Don’t give me that.” Your heartbreak dissolved into cold, hard facts. Facts that Bucky couldn’t refute. “I used to see you almost every day. No matter how busy either of us got, we still saw each other all the time. We made time for each other. But ever since Cole proposed, you don’t answer my texts anymore. You don’t respond to my voicemails. I mean, I’ve only seen you-” The realization was startling. You knew Bucky had been distant, but as you quickly flipped through your memories of the past few months, you confirmed just how detached he’d been. “I’ve seen you twice. Including tonight.”

Bucky’s silence bit through your flesh.

Part of you didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to know. But the question left your lips before you could stop it. “Buck, are you mad at me?”

He shook his head. “No, why would I be?”

“Because Cole proposed, and I said yes.”

A look of bewilderment yanked Bucky’s features upward. Emotions flashed across his face at lightning speed. A scoff barked out of his throat.

“No. No, I’m not-” He was caught off guard. Struggling to cover his tracks. “I’m not mad. It’s not like that. I’m just-”

“What’s it like, then?” You stared at him, expectant.

“Oh, come on…” It was all too much. He couldn’t be in such close proximity to you anymore. Couldn’t have you almost pressed against his side.

He fled from his seat on the stairs and opted to stand in the grass. He paced for a beat or two, wearing down the fresh blades of greenery. And when he finally came to a stopping point, he couldn’t face you. Couldn’t look you in the eye. He just needed a moment. Needed some space. Needed to breathe air that didn’t wear your perfume. And when he cleared his mind- and his lungs- he turned to you.

“You know…” he let out a huff. “You know that things haven’t always been exactly platonic between us. You know that I’ve had- that I’m-” His metal fingers ran through his hair, “Anyway, I’m just… I’m trying to deal with this whole thing. I guess I’m not doing a good job.”

It wasn’t news to you. But it still struck you like lightning.

Things between you and Bucky always teetered on the edge of romance. Always walked a tightrope between friendship and love. And while you adored a good “will they, won’t they” type of relationship on tv, it didn’t have the same charm in real life. The Nick and Jess, Sam and Diane, Janine and Gregory dynamic brought you only pain. Confusion. Heartache. Unfortunately for you, there wasn’t a room full of talented writers scripting your every interaction with Bucky. The two of you didn’t have a well thought out, perfectly planned arc that placed you in a relationship by the end of your third season as friends. No, the two of you were left to your own devices, navigating the difficult terrain without help.

Part of you always believed that you and Bucky would end up together. Maybe it was the Ben and Leslie of it all. Or maybe it was your hopeless romantic side. But you truly thought things would work out for the two of you. The ring on your finger, however, said otherwise.

A wave of remorse washed over you. You rested your elbows on your knees and dropped your chin into your hands. “We just never got the timing right…”

Bucky furrowed his brow, “What do you mean?”

“Our feelings for each other were always out of sync,” you lamented. “They ebbed and flowed over the years- just with opposite timing. When you had feelings for me, I was dating someone. When I had feelings for you, you were in love with another woman. It was just…” you cursed fate and destiny and everything in between. “It was bad fucking timing.

A sharp edge rose in Bucky’s voice, “You think that’s what happened?”

You nodded, “Um… yeah. Yes.”

“You’re wrong.” He was steadfast. Resolute. He wanted to argue with you, wanted to prove you wrong.

“What do you mean?”

“My feelings never ebbed- whether I was dating someone or not, those feelings never went away,” he said. There was a desperation in his voice. A longing you hadn’t heard before. “And they still haven’t. They’ve never gone away or even faded a little bit. I know you had fleeting feelings for me at one time or another, but mine weren’t temporary.”

It was bullshit- it had to be. Right? His “feelings” for you never seemed so concrete, so permanent. They weren’t even feelings; if anything they were more like passing flirtations. Momentary affections that dissolved every time a beautiful woman walked by.

You let out a scoff, “Tell that to all of your girlfriends-”

“I only dated other people because I was losing my fucking mind.” His voice rose an octave or so and he cut his eyes toward the house, watching for a sign that someone had heard him. “Every time you started seeing someone new, it was like I couldn’t breathe. So, I needed something- someone- to be a distraction. And I know that’s a dick move. But-”

You weren’t proud of it, but you were familiar with Bucky’s coping mechanism. With his tactics for surviving every new boyfriend of yours. “I did the same thing.”

“What?” He didn’t believe you- not even for a second. Your engagement ring wouldn’t allow him to.

“Buck, I’ve had feelings for you since we became friends. It was pretty much immediate after meeting you. And they weren’t ‘fleeting’- or whatever you said.” The word actually offended you. “They’ve never ebbed.”

You caught a glimpse of your engagement ring in your periphery and instantly dropped your hand into your lap, hiding the ring from your view- and Bucky’s. “I only dated other people because I didn’t think anything could actually happenbetween us.”

Bucky’s chest tightened. He instantly mourned the lost time, the years he could’ve spent with your lips on his. Of course, the friendship you shared was never a waste. And he’d never trade the years you spent as confidantes. But he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how different things could’ve been. How much mutual pain could’ve been avoided.

He took a step away from you, too confused and upset to be in your orbit. “And you never told me any of this?”

Your brow furrowed; your lips stretched into a thin, frustrated line. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What?”

With fury smoldering in your chest, you rose from your seat on the porch steps. Anger glistened behind your eyes and hurt coated your words. “I told you! I bared my fucking soul to you!”

The puzzle pieces came together for Bucky. He let his head tip back a bit and covered his face with his hands. He let out a deep groan that only added to your rage. He didn’t have to ask- he already knew what you were referencing. But the part of him that wanted a fight egged you on. “Oh my god, are you talking about that night at the bar?”

“Of course I am!” you spat. “I told you everything- I confessed everything! I told you I loved you and that I wanted to be with you. I told you I was in love with you. And you just brushed it off!”

Bucky grimaced, “I know...”

He wandered a bit farther, putting a few more paces between your body and his. He knew he was wrong. Knew he fucked up. Every time he thought about what you said at the bar, and the way he reacted, he grew nauseous.

“But I didn’t think it was real.” Another wave of desperation sent his voice booming through the yard, “I didn’t know you actually meant it! And I didn’t think I should hold you to something you said after six margaritas.”

He had a point. He had good reason not to believe a drunken confession. But you gave a fervent shake of your head; it wasn’t his actions that night that hurt you, it was everything that followed.

“But you didn’t even acknowledge it!” The words echoed down your street. You wondered if your neighbors had gathered around their windows, watching yours and Bucky’s drama unfold like a soap opera. “You could’ve asked me about it the next day or-”

The pain in your voice cut Bucky deep. His tone was softer now, his voice a little quieter. He knew he should’ve handled things differently. Knew you deserved better. “Well, you never brought it up either…”

“I tried to!” A rogue tear dripped down your cheek. You wiped it away in a hurry, hoping Bucky hadn’t seen it- though you knew he had. “But you told me ‘not to worry about it’ and then you walked away. And that was it.”

Bucky watched as a few more tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. He wanted to wipe them away with the sleeve of his shirt. To offer you a hug. But he couldn’t- he was certain you’d swat him away. Regret sat in his stomach, weighing him down like lead.

“Do you know how embarrassing that was for me? I told you how I felt, and you pretended like it never even happened,” your voice wavered ever so slightly. “And when I tried to talk to you about it, you waved me off. I was so humiliated- I didn’t want to say anything else.”

The weeks that followed your drunken- but true- confession were some of the most miserable times of your life. Bucky simply carried on like normal, inviting you over for movies and pizza and wine. And you didn’t have it in you to pull away. To put some distance between the two of you. To take the time you needed to lick your wounds. And if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t want to stray from his side. Didn’t want to retreat. Because being around him was better than being without him, even if the rejection left you broken and bruised.

“After that,” you shrugged, “I thought you didn’t want anything more than friendship with me.”

“But I-” Bucky shook his head; you were wrong- you were so wrong. He’d always wanted more, always wanted you. “I’ve always loved you…”

“How was I supposed to know that? I mean, your string of girlfriends says otherwise.” You thought back on the litany- on the catalogue- of beautiful women Bucky paraded around. “And I know I dated other people, too. But you had so many. And you were so- you gushed about those women. You flaunted them. You talked about them nonstop.”

Bucky knew it was true. He brought his girlfriends to every event, every team dinner, every casual hang. The one time, the one place he deemed too sacred for the presence of his rotating cast of lovers, however, was the one-on-one time you shared. He never dreamed of allowing them to tag along when it was just supposed to be the two of you- that was one line he’d never cross. He did spend a significant amount of time talking about them, though. He went on and on about his many, many forays into the dating world. And truth be told, you had trouble keeping track of all the names.

Because, while you’d had a few boyfriends here and there, Bucky dated enough women to field a soccer team. Or two.

But you weren’t mad at him for it. You didn’t hate him for seeking companionship. You just couldn’t believe that he had real, legitimate feelings for you while simultaneously telling you that he planned to propose to Isabella. Or Nadia. Or Violet.

“Honestly, you made it seem like you wanted to marry every one of them,” you told him. “The way you talked about them- it was like you were so in love. So, I didn’t think…” The whole situation was too messy. Too confusing. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to have real feelings for me. I thought you were a flirt. And a ladies’ man. And I thought you only showed me affection when you were bored between lovers.”

Bucky thought back on all the girlfriends. All the hook ups. All the times he left a one-night stand and ended up at your apartment after. He hated it- but you were right. He may have flirted with you; he may have showed you fleeting affection. And maybe he made a joke or two about growing old with you- but he never made a declarative statement. He never confessed his true and undying love for you. Never made the effort to take your friendship to the next level.

Only you’d been brave enough to do that. And he’d paid you dust.

“And I mean, you made it very clear that you didn’t want to talk about my feelings for you,” you said. A flood of familiar embarrassment rose around your ankles. You found yourself struggling to wade through it, just as you had after Bucky brushed you off. “So, I just… I found Cole. And I stayed with him- I stayed long enough that he asked me to marry him. And I knew you didn’t want me, so… I said yes.”

Bucky couldn’t imagine a reality in which he didn’t want you. “I’m so-” he slid a hand over his mouth. He let his head drop a bit.

The weight of your words- of the truth- almost forced him to his knees. He’d only ever known longing, wanting, yearning- for you. And he always told himself you didn’t see him that way. But knowing now that you’d felt the same, that your confession was real and true, didn’t assuage the hurt. He couldn’t believe that he brushed you off. That he didn’t take the time and summon the courage to ask you about what you said at the bar.

But he’d been too scared. Too scared he’d ruin your friendship. Too scared he’d make you uncomfortable. Too scared that your drunk words were just that- drunk words with no meaning.

As your point of view stood next to his, the puzzle pieces aligned. And the two of you finally got a look at the full picture. It was a picture of mutual love, mutual longing, mutual heartache. A picture of two best friends who couldn’t find it in them to have a serious- sober- conversation about their feelings for fear of ruining a good thing.

“I��m sorry,” Bucky finally said. “I didn’t know you were serious at the bar. I didn’t mean to hurt you- I never want to hurt you.” He swiped his sleeve across his face, mopping up a stray tear that threatened to run down his cheek. “And I really didn’t mean to push you into the arms of another man. I just... I didn’t know you meant it.”

A tired sigh deflated your chest, “I meant it.”

Bucky wasn’t sure what to say. Or how to handle the situation. He hated that things got so muddled. Hated that you felt so hurt. Hated that he hadn’t just been honest. The two of you were so close, so comfortable together, he never thought things could get this messed up. This disastrous. But he supposed it was par for the course. After the way his life had played out, why would he think that something as important as falling in love would be easy?

“So, it seems like we’re…” Bucky frowned, “terrible at this.”

“Yeah,” a dark laugh escaped your chest. “I guess we’re both stupid.”

Bucky nodded. If there’d been one- just one- honest conversation between the two of you, none of this would’ve happened. There’d be no Cole. No hurt feelings. No argument in the yard. All this time, you could’ve been sleeping next to Bucky each night. You could’ve shared a home with him. Kissed him good morning each time the sun rose. And the engagement ring- albeit a smaller one- resting on your finger would’ve been from Bucky.

But it was too late now, wasn’t it? There was too much pain, too much hurt. And you were very much so engaged. Hell, you and Bucky were standing in the front yard of the house you shared with your soon-to-be husband. But Bucky had to ask, didn’t he? He had to dig deeper, to find the truth.

And after he’d failed to acknowledge your truth last time, he wasn’t going to do it again.

Knots twisted around in his stomach. His lungs failed to expand all the way. But he needed to know. “Do you still-

“Yes.” You didn’t hesitate. Didn’t leave even a sliver of room for doubt. “I still love you.”

Bucky said nothing. He simply drank in the words. Replayed them in his mind. Relished in the sound of your voice- sober and steady- saying that you loved him. It was all he’d ever wanted.

But his silence pushed you to the precipice.

“So, um,” your hands shook. “What about you? Are you-”

Bucky almost laughed. “Oh, come on. Of course, I do- of course, I love you. What kind of question is that?” He shot you a wink.

There it was- his truth laid out before you. And to think, you’d dreaded this night for weeks. Dreaded celebrating your engagement to Cole. Dreaded answering questions about your impending wedding. And now, the love you’d hoped for, the love you’d always wanted, laid perfectly spelled out for you in the grass. Somehow, the party celebrating your engagement to another man provided the perfect venue for Bucky to bare his soul.

And while the two of you relished in the others’ words of love, uncertainty still filled the air. Bucky stood firm on his side of the lawn, and you yours. This wasn’t a perfectly scripted episode of sitcom, there weren’t people telling you what to say. What to do next. Your shared predicament was messy and awkward. And though you didn’t have a director telling you how to act, you knew your neighbors were entertained.

“So, what do we…” Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets. “What do we do now? You’re supposed to marry someone else. Your house is full of people celebrating your engagement. And-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

You pursued him across the lawn, stalking toward him until your lips crushed his. Instantly, his hands found your waist and pulled you tighter. Your hands slid up his chest, over his shoulders, and buried themselves in his hair. The chill in the air fell away. The noise of the party evaporated. Nothing existed outside of this moment, this kiss. Bucky snaked his arms around your back, encircling you completely. He wasn’t going to let you slip away. Not again.

But an errant sound from inside the house made a grab for his attention. And suddenly, the stark reality of the situation hit him like a train.

He pulled away ever so slightly, only allowing a few millimeters between his lips and yours. His gaze landed on the packed house, “Someone might see us-”

“I don’t care.” You gave his hair a gentle tug and closed the gap between you. Now that you’d finally tasted his lips, you didn’t want to spend a moment without them. Ever.

And while Bucky wanted only this- only you- for the rest of his life, his anxiety needled at him as it always did. He did his best to swat his worries away and devote his focus to you and only you, but he couldn’t fight it. He had to tell you, had to clarify.

Again, he pulled away.

“But you know I can’t- I can’t give you the things he can give you. You know that right?” He searched your face for any hint of realization. Any flicker of regret. “I mean, the big diamond ring, and the fancy wedding, and the house. I don’t want you to be disappointed, I don’t want you to-”

And again, you cut him off. Your mouth melted against his, hell bent on consuming him right then and there.

“Buck, I don’t want any of that,” you finally said when you came up for air. “I want you. That’s it.”

And there it was- Bucky’s confirmation that you wanted him for him. That you didn’t care about his small, shabby apartment. Or his lack of funds. That you loved him for who he was, not what he could gift you.

“And honestly, all the fancy stuff isn’t really my vibe,” you shrugged. “I mean, I’m not really the type to play tennis at the country club. And I don’t use ‘summer’ as a verb.”

Bucky’s laughed boomed through the yard. It cut through the noise and chatter of the party and made you feel more at home than you ever did in this godforsaken house.

“So, do you want to make a run for it?” Bucky asked between long, deep kisses. “If we go now, I don’t think they’ll catch us.”

It was enticing. The thought of absconding with Bucky set you alight from the inside out. All you could think about was spending the night in his bed, wearing his clothes as pajamas, and then ditching them entirely for a night of passionate debauchery.

But there would be plenty of time for the two of you to make your escape- after you carried out the plan forming on the outskirts of your mind.

“I say, we run- but not quite yet,” you told him. “I think you give me a few minutes inside so I can snag a couple bottles of champagne and some of that fancy whiskey Cole’s dad brought by. And then we jump in the getaway car and run like hell. How does that sound?”

How could Bucky possibly say no to that? He watched with bated breath as you snuck back into the house and hoped to god that no one noticed your return.

And his prayers were answered. Everyone was so drunk, so distracted by the music and the lights, that they didn’t even glance in your direction.

A quick trip to your room allowed you the opportunity to rid yourself of Cole’s ring. Sure, it was beautiful. And sure, Cole was a nice guy. But you didn’t want it, didn’t want to be shackled to him for the rest of your life. You slid the ring from your finger and instantly felt the weight of the world fall from your shoulders. It was the most instantaneous relief you’d ever felt- aside from kissing Bucky for the first time. You tucked the ring safely into the drawer of your nightstand and told yourself you’d return it to Cole tomorrow.

Tonight, you had more pressing matters to attend to. You snaked down the hall to the kitchen, undetected by the raucous partygoers. And without drawing any attention to yourself, you snaked two bottles of champagne out of their ice bath and tucked a nice vintage whiskey under your arm. If you and Bucky were going to celebrate, you were going to do it in style.

With the alcohol safely cradled in your arms, you made a mad dash for the front door. But just as you turned the handle, the sensation of someone watching you gave you pause. Slowly, you turned around, fearing that you’d find Cole’s confused, heartbroken gaze staring back at you. Instead, it was Nat who’d caught you in the act.

She gave you a wicked smile and mouthed “I told you so” from across the room. And with a sweeping gesture, she urged you to “go, go, go!” She didn’t have to tell you twice. Quick as a flash, you escaped out the door and sprinted down the porch steps.

Bucky paced up and down the front walk, waiting for your return. Part of him feared that you might not return from your trip inside. Maybe you’d change your mind about the whole thing. Maybe you’d decide to stay with Cole. But the way you tore down the front steps and launched yourself into his arms quieted his anxieties.

He took your face in his hands and captured your lips with his. “You got the goods?”

Your laugh vibrated against Bucky’s lips, “I don’t know about you, but I think stolen champagne tastes better.”

"That's my girl."

Bucky snaked an arm around your back and ushered you across the yard, out the front gate, and across the street to his car. He stole the booze from your grasp and placed the bottles gently in the back seat. And once he ensured that the alcohol you worked so hard to pilfer would make it home safe, he turned his attention to you.

His hands slid over your hips and traced up your spine, sending goosebumps over your skin. His mouth met yours in a kiss full of love and desperation. Longing and need. This was what you’d always wanted. What you’d begged the universe for. What you’d cried and agonized over. And now it was yours- Bucky was yours.

He pulled away only a fraction of an inch, “You ready to go, baby?”

“Get me outta here, Buck.”

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

@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @evangeliameryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @anything-more-than-human

607 notes · View notes

fluentmoviequoter · 2 months ago

Text

Only Choice

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: You and Tim go undercover to catch a serial killer because you're the only choice.

Warnings: angst?, fluff, r wears a two-piece bathing suit and like halfway wears Tim's shirt, Tim and r makeout on the job (again)

Word Count: 2.4k+ words

Inspired by T-Shirt by Thomas Rhett.

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“Hey, gorgeous,” Angela greets as she enters the bullpen. “We need to talk.”

Tim sighs as he squeezes his eyes closed. “Lopez, I’m not in the mood today.”

“Who says I was talking to you?”

Tim looks up, his brows pinched. When he sees Angela smiling at something to his right, he turns his head to follow her eyeline.

“Me?” you ask, pointing to yourself as your eyes widen.

“Yep,” Angela answers. “Wade and I need to see you in his office. You, too, Tim.”

“You said you weren’t talking to me,” Tim argues as he stands.

“I wasn’t. Now I am. So, Tim…” She looks at you and enunciates, “Gorgeous, you’re both with me.”

“Okay,” you agree slowly. “But Lucy owes me $50. Don’t let me forget that.”

“For what?” Tim inquires.

“I bet her 50 that Lopez doesn’t know my name. The gorgeous thing feels like conformation.”

Tim grunts under his breath, but inside, he’s not entirely convinced that’s the reason. Angela is incredibly kind and funny, but she doesn’t usually say stuff like that just because she forgot someone’s name. Officer, sure, but gorgeous has to have more behind it.

“I thought you were friends,” Tim points out as he opens the door to Grey’s office for you.

You shake your head and murmur, “Not yet.”

“What do you know?” Wade asks as the door closes behind Tim.

“Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell,” you joke.

Tim sighs, lays his hands on his belt, and counters, “Know about what?”

“The serial killer,” Angela answers. “Targeting attractive couples in LA county.”

Tim shakes his head, so Angela turns toward you.

“Uh, just that he’s killing couples who are supposed to be traveling and then dumping them in Angeles Forest. Right?”

“Precisely. He’s nearly impossible to find, though.”

“Meaning we have no idea where to look,” Grey fills in. “Without knowing when or how he works, we’re steps behind him.”

“So, you want to set a trap,” Tim guesses. “Use UCs to lure him in for another kill.”

“You’re so smart, Timothy,” Angela applauds sarcastically.

“Lopez.”

“You in?” Wade interjects.

“Wait, what?” you reply. “You want to send us in as the UCs?”

Tim shakes his head as you point between the two of you. Angela nods, and you purse your lips to consider it.

“Why not?” you decide with a smile. “I’m in.”

“Does it have to be us?” Tim inquires.

“Uh…” Wade pauses to look out of his office and around the station before he says, “Yeah.”

“Only choice,” Angela agrees.

“Gorgeous,” you whisper.

“And smart,” Angela applauds. “He’s got a type. Pretty couples. And… you fit.”

“Tim, she called you pretty, say thank you,” Grey teases.

“I didn’t say yes,” Tim argues.

“Is Aaron still here?” you ask.

“I didn’t say no either,” Tim interrupts, raising a hand to stop you.

You press your lips together and lift your hands in apology. Angela is trying to contain a laugh at Tim’s offended reaction to you asking about another man who could pretend to be your significant other. You’re not a couple, but Angela was right when she said you’re the only choice. If the killer is planning to kill again, he won’t be able to resist you and Tim together.

“Where are we going?” Tim asks with a dramatic sigh.

“Santa Monica,” Angela answers with a smile. “Pack your swimsuit.”

“Is it going to be this awkward the whole time?” you ask as Tim drives to the luxury hotel.

“No,” he answers shortly. “Just…”

“You’d rather be anywhere else?”

“Tell me your cover story,” Tim instructs, changing the subject. “Stop talking like a cop.”

You sit back in your seat and look out the window, catching glimpses of the ocean between the beachfront buildings as you recite the information Angela created for you.

“And we’ve been together for just over a year,” you continue. “I even got my nails done because I think you’re proposing this weekend, but I’m not supposed to tell you that.”

“Good,” Tim murmurs.

“Tim,” you begin again, your tone more serious as you look at his profile. “I’m sorry for pushing. I know this is weird.”

Tim shrugs. “Anticipated my next proposal would look a little different.”

“Ow,” you hiss, playfully rubbing your chest over your heart. “Oh well, at least Angela thinks I’m gorgeous.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, but I like messing with you.”

Tim rolls his eyes, but you see the tiny smile he tries to hide. You’re here for work, but at least the view is nice. Oh, yeah, the ocean’s pretty too.

After adjusting the straps over your shoulders, you step out of the bathroom and back into your oversized luxury suite (courtesy of the LAPD and a need to get a serial killer behind bars).

“You’re in a bathing suit,” Tim says as he enters the bedroom, slowing as he looks at you.

“Great observation, Bradford,” you reply. “Did you forget why we’re here?”

Tim shakes his head and turns away from you. “I’m just saying… you could’ve worn a one piece,” he murmurs.

“Spoken like a man,” you tease as you pull a coverup over your head. “Try using the bathroom in one of those and then tell me that again, Tim.”

“Guy at the bar has been staring at us since we walked in,” you inform Tim over the rim of your glass.

“Us or you?” he asks, discreetly glancing over your shoulder.

“What’s the difference?”

“It’s a simple question. Men stare at beautiful women, especially at the beach. If he’s interested in you, just because, he’s not our guy.”

You try to ignore how your heart rate speeds when Tim calls you beautiful, but it affects you.

By the end of the day, you’ve noticed two men who checked in after you seem to be hanging around wherever you and Tim are. It could be a lead, or it could be a coincidence. You can only hope you learn which before it’s too late.

“I’m surprised you’re making progress so quickly,” Angela says over the phone the following morning.

“I told you,” Wade says in the background.

“Anyway,” Angela begins again. “How’s Tim? Tolerable?”

Tim is looking directly at you, and though he can’t hear Angela, you still feel like he’s caught you talking about him.

“The usual,” you answer.

“Remember why you’re there, okay? Keep us updated. We’ve got officers everywhere.”

“Thanks, Angela.”

You end the call and sit down on the couch beside Tim. It’s more exhausting than you thought, the hustle and bustle of pretending to be an in-love couple that does everything together. You’ve already been to the pool, the beach, three restaurants, and the hotel lounge and cruised down the PCH.

Leaning your head against Tim’s shoulder, you look over the balcony railing and to the water, reflecting the first rays of sunlight peeking over the beachfront high-rises.

“Are they running the men from yesterday?” Tim inquires, making no move to create space between you.

“One of them checked out this morning. The other came back clean and his reservation was booked weeks ago,” you respond. “Back to square one.”

“You sound surprised that catching a serial killer in a place this big didn’t happen overnight.”

“Because it’s us!” you point out. “I thought we’d break some sort of record and have the cuffs on him, be back in our own beds already.”

Tim smiles and stretches his arm out behind your head. Another full day awaits you, but you’d be content to spend it here.

“Don’t turn around,” Tim instructs as you prepare to leave the upscale diner he found for breakfast.

You nod, complying as he leans forward to wave for the check. He looks across the restaurant as he sits back in the booth.

“I saw a guy by the pool last night. He looked over a few times, but that didn’t stand out then. He was still at the pool when we left the lounge,” Tim explains.

“And now he’s here?”

Tim nods. “He fits the profile. White, mid-30s, completely unimposing.”

“What do you want to do?”

Tim smiles and takes your hand as he answers, “I want to catch him.”

You both know that two sightings aren’t enough to arrest him, so take a good look at him as you walk to the bathroom and then leave to continue your plans for the day. Everywhere you go, you and Tim are on high alert, noting where he is or isn’t, what he’s doing, what he’s wearing, and anything else you may need to know if this is the killer you’re searching for.

“Wait, Tim,” you call, pulling him to a stop in the hotel lobby. “He’s never been in the hotel. He wasn’t inside last night, and we’ve been back three times. I don’t think he’s staying here.”

“Or he just thinks we’re coming right back out. He can’t lose us if he doesn’t leave the door,” Tim points out.

“Maybe,” you murmur.

“We should test it, though. He watched us from the pool last night. If he was staying here, why didn’t he just come in where he could see better, hear us?”

“How do you want to do this?”

“We could try to lure him in.”

You smile as another idea strikes. “Or we ask Angela to get us a room at a crappy motel.”

“Why?”

“Because no one thinks twice about who’s walking around. The rooms are practically public, he could follow us straight to the door.”

Tim smiles as he pulls you closer, playing the part of the perfect boyfriend. He makes it seem effortless.

“Let’s get out of here, baby,” he murmurs against your ear.

“He’s following us,” you whisper as you walk down the beach, nearing your new, faded-aqua motel.

“Metro’s waiting in the employee parking lot. Your call,” Tim replies, pulling you closer.

You stop, keeping Tim close before you loop your arms over his shoulders. Leaning up, you brush your lips over Tim’s jawline.

“We’re gonna have to put on a show,” you murmur against his skin.

Tim drops his head toward your shoulder and whispers, “Then let’s make it memorable.”

“Keep it down!” someone calls from a doorway.

You laugh against Tim’s mouth as he lifts you onto the next step. He holds you against his chest while he steers you backward toward the door. When you reach your room, you lean against the door, and Tim drops his head to kiss you.

“We really need to stop doing this,” you whisper.

“Absolutely,” Tim agrees, leaning in for another kiss.

He scrapes the key across the door, trying to unlock it while keeping his attention on you. You reach down, steadying his wrist as you kiss down to his jaw. The lock clicks and Tim bends to hook his arm under your hips before he pushes the door open. Kicking it closed behind him, Tim takes you inside and leaves the door unlocked.

“Take your shirt off,” you instruct as you pull your coverup over your head.

“Why?” Tim asks, already unbuttoning the linen button-down as you wait in your bathing suit.

You shake your head and turn on the outdated TV set before you walk to Tim’s side. Once his shirt is off, you slide it onto your shoulders and haphazardly button it.

“Lopez, get ready,” you say into your wire, still attached to the inside seam of your coverup.

Flipping your hair, you mess it up before raking your fingers through Tim’s. He watches you, unable to decide what he wants to see more: your hair messed up, how you move in front of the TV light, or how you look in his shirt. Before he can decide, someone knocks on the door.

You pull your gun from under the bed and ready it on the door as Tim stands against the wall, prepared to cut the shooter off before he gets all the way into the room.

“LAPD!” the Metro team outside yells. “Put your hands up!”

Three minutes and one gunshot later, the motel is quiet. The door opens, and Wade follows Angela inside, their eyes drifting between you, Tim and the suspicious outfit changes that have occurred.

“Ready to go?” Angela asks.

Tim looks at you, hesitating, before you answer, “Yeah.”

Standing behind a police car, still clad in your bathing suit and Tim’s shirt, you wait for Angela to join you.

“Anything you want to tell me?” she asks. “Friend to friend?”

“Do you even know my name?” you argue.

She says your name in answer, then leans against the back of the shop.

You exhale as you prepare to ask, “Why me and Tim? You could’ve picked anyone.”

“The truth? You were the obvious choice. We needed an attractive couple. But… you were also making the rest of us tired.”

“Tired?”

“The constant pining. The longing looks. It got kind of sickening. So, when the case popped up, I thought maybe it would give you a reason to deal with those feelings, however you wanted to do that.”

“It was a good plan,” you admit softly. “Except now I’m even more confused than before.”

“You want a ride?” Tim asks you, approaching the side of the shop you’re behind.

You look at Angela, and she nods enthusiastically. After you agree, you follow Tim to a car and wonder if this is the best or worst night of your life.

“I thought you said we needed to stop doing this,” you say against Tim’s lips.

He chuckles as he pulls back. “Then why are you leaning in for one more?”

You roll your eyes and hit the light switch beside you. At least he waited until we got inside this time.

“It really was the only choice, you know.”

“I do,” Tim agrees. “But I will make Lopez pay for meddling.”

“Sure. I for one am just glad we’re finally acknowledging that we have feelings for each other.”

Tim smiles as he takes your hand. “Maybe I can forgive her for tonight.”

“Maybe you can also cook dinner tonight.” You lead Tim to your kitchen, release his hand, and walk down your hall to change.

Not that an outfit change will erase the vision of you wearing Tim’s shirt from his head anytime soon. No matter what, you’re both thankful for Angela’s meddling, because it took you exactly where you wanted to be.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford fic #tim bradford #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x y/n #fem!reader #hanna writes✯#the rookie x reader #the rookie abc

402 notes · View notes

waitimcomingtoo · 6 months ago

Text

One For Us

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: Peeta gets upset when you suggest getting married to appease the Capitol

Masterlist

“We could get married.”

Everyone stopped debating strategies for getting President Snow to believe your love story and looked up at you upon your suggestion. You felt self conscious with all the eyes on you so you looked to Peeta for help. You thought he’d agree with you but he was just staring at you with an almost hurt expression.

“What?” He asked you in a quiet voice.

“You said we’re gonna be on this train forever anyway, right? We’d have to get married eventually. We might as well do it right now to convince Snow how in love we are. We could make a huge deal of the proposal and the dress and cake. Don’t Capital people love all that kind of stuff?” You asked Haymitch.

“She’s right.” Haymitch agreed. “A wedding between the star crossed winners might be the one thing in more demand than the games. If we spin a story about the wedding being canceled due to the games, maybe the outrage would be enough to get the Capitol to change their minds about sending you two back in there.”

“Yeah. And we could go on Cesar’s show and say that we were so in love that we couldn’t wait any longer and had to get engaged. We can make a whole big thing of it. That should be enough to convince Snow that we’re in love, right?” You asked. Peeta blinked a few times and let out a short dry laugh.

“Fine. I don’t care. Let’s just do it.” Peeta sighed as he got up to leave. You frowned and watched him walk about without giving you so much as a glance in your direction. You looked at Haymitch and Effie and held up your hands with confusion.

“What’s his problem?”

“He’s probably just sore that he wasn’t the one who came up with the brilliant idea.” Haymitch replied and gave you a proud pat on the back.

“Oh my goodness. You fools.” Effie huffed and shook her head. “That’s not why he’s upset.”

“Then why? I’m just trying to help. It’s not like he came up with anything.” You said and folded your arms like a child out of annoyance over Peeta’s disapproval of your idea.

“He’s upset because this is not how he wanted this to happen.” Effie said as she looked at only you.

“So the idea of marrying me is so awful to him that he had to storm out of the room?” You grumbled.

“No, child. He’s not upset that he has to marry you. He’s upset that it’s only counterfeit.” Effie explained with a tight smile. You stopped being angry with Peeta and took a moment to process what she was saying.

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” You decided and got up to follow him. You found Peeta in the back of the train, staring out the window with his chin in his hand.

“Hey.” You said quietly as you sat down near him.

“Hi.” Peeta replied without taking his eyes off the window.

“I’m sorry about that back there. I should’ve talked to you before telling Haymitch about getting married. I didn’t think it would upset you.”

“It’s okay.” He said quietly. “It’s a great idea.”

“You hate it.” You laughed nervously and wished he’d look at you. A smile tugged on Peeta’s lips and he nodded his head.

“Yeah.” He admitted. “I do.”

“But why? Why do you not want to get married?” You asked. Peeta stayed silent and turned his head so that you couldn’t see his face. You got up to sit beside him and put your hand in his leg to silently comfort him until he was able to speak. He looked down at your hand before looking up and wiping his face with his sleeve.

“I do want to get married. I always have.” He admitted. “I always wanted to find a girl that I love and could be genuine companions with. And to not just get married because it was convenient or beneficial to us both, but because we were best friends and wanted to be with each other forever. So we’d take vows to promise each other that. And then have a big family and live a quiet but happy life.”

“Oh. I see. Marrying me would prevent you from finding her.” You nodded in understanding. It stung you a little to hear him talk about the life he dreamed of with someone else but you couldn’t place why you felt that way. Peeta finally turned his head to look at you and had a sad smile on his face.

“What?” You wondered.

“You know, when I was little, I always saw myself marrying you.” He admitted.

“You…you did?” You asked with a surprised smile.

“I did.” He nodded. “I liked you from the very first time I saw you. So I went home and told my mom I was gonna marry you. I was only six.”

“What’d she say?”

“She asked if you were the coal miners girl and I said yes. Then she told me she almost married your dad.”

“What? My dad?” You were taken aback and pointed to yourself.

“Yeah. He gave her a ring and everything. But it didn’t work out. I don’t remember why. Then she told me she hopes I don’t have the same fate as she did.” He said with a dry laugh.

“That’s too bad for them. But I think it’s cute you had a schoolboy crush on me.” You told him, making his cheeks adorn with a rosy glow.

“Trust me. It was more than a schoolboy crush. You had a hold on me for years. I had this whole plan to ask you to marry me after high school. I was gonna propose that we start a business together. I could sell my bread and you could sell game. I was going to get us a cow and chickens so we could save money on supplies. And we could build a house near the forest so you don’t have to travel far when you went to hunt. We’d be poor but we’d be happy. I was gonna tell you all of that when I proposed, by the way.”

“That’s a really good plan, Peeta. I had no idea you thought that all through.” You smiled softly as a sadness weighed on your chest. He had all these plans that would never be realized because of the cards he had been dealt. His sweet fantasy of a wholesome future together was going to be replaced with fake weddings and bloodshed.

“Yeah, I did. I really though it would happen too. That’s why I stormed out earlier. You suggested we get married and just sounded so cavalier. Like, it was just one more thing we could do to please Snow. And I guess it made me think of my plans for the future and how I was never going to get any of them. So I got upset. It wasn’t anything against you.” He assured you with a sad smile.

“I understand. I just thought you didn’t want to marry me. I didn’t know you had all those plans. I’m sorry they won’t be happening.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too. You and I got reaped just a few months before I was gonna ask you. And I haven’t recognized my life since then. But before all of this, I really thought it was gonna happen. Given that you said yes, of course. I even told my mother about my plan. She gave me this.” Peeta said and pulled necklace out from underneath his shirt. On a leather cord was a dainty silver diamond ring.

“Oh my gosh, Peeta. t’s beautiful.” You gasped and leaned forward to gently touch it with your fingertips. Peeta gulped at how close you were and felt his face heat up again.

“Your dad gave it to her.” He told you. “He found that diamond himself when he was working.”

“I can’t believe she kept it all these years. She could’ve made a fortune with this.”

“That’s what I said. But she said it was worth more than any amount they could offer her.”

“She sounds like a romantic. I see where you get it from.” You laughed softly and nudged him a little.

“Yeah. I’m a lot like her.”He said with a timid smile as he looked into your eyes. You stared at each other for a moment and you felt an ache in your bones for him. He was still so kind and gentle despite what you’d gone through together and the impending doom that loomed over your heads. He still wore the diamond ring his mom gave him and credited his kindness to her. Your mind began to picture the future Peeta had painted for you and you felt homesick for a place you’d never been to. You wished you could jump from the train and go live the life he described, but that could never happen.

“I wish we didn’t end up here.” You said in a quiet voice. You feared that if you spoke any louder, you’d burst into tears.

“I know. Me too. I wish things were different. I wish that I was asking you to marry me because I decided it was time. And I wish…” He trailed off as he started to get emotional at the thought of the life he would never have.

“You wish what?” You asked calmly and rubbed his arm to comfort him.

“I wish I knew you were saying yes because you meant it.” He admitted. “Not because you have to.”

You were both quiet for a while after that confession. A silence that wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, just very heavy, sat among you as you looked in opposite directions.

“I would’ve said yes.” You said after a beat.

“What?”

“If you had asked me. After high school. And told me about the cows and chickens and business. I would have told you yes.” You explained with a timid smile. Peeta stared at you for a minute to see if you were joking or not.

“No you wouldn’t have. You didn’t even know me back then.” He laughed dismissively.

“Yes I did. I knew you were kind and strong and hardworking. And now that I know you better, I know that you’re funny and resilient and thoughtful and kinda grumpy before you’ve had tea in the morning and not the worst to look at. What more could I ask for?”

“Not the worst to look at?” He cracked a smile.

“Come on. You know you’re handsome. Don’t make me say.” You rolled your eyes and he blushed once again.

“I would not use that word to describe myself. Especially not with Finnick running around.” He mumbled.

“Well I happen to think you’re very handsome. And the wife is always right. You need to know that if we’re going to get married. So shut up.” You said and playfully smacked his leg.

“Don’t tell me to shut up or else you’re not getting a ring.” Peeta played along.

“Oh, I’m getting that ring.” You insisted. “And I get to name all the cows. You can do what you want with the chicken but the cows are mine. And I’m giving them last names too. Fancy ones.”

You and Peeta both laughed at the dumb joke and you felt yourself relax. Even if your lives weren’t going to go the way you’d hoped, at least you could look forward to these moments of sweetness with him.

“Would you really have said yes?” Peeta asked in a small voice once your laughter died down.

“It depends. How would you have asked me?”

“I had a plan for that too, actually. I was going to pick you a bouquet of wild flowers. The ones that grow by the river bank. I know you like those.”

“I do like those. The orange and purple ones.”

“Yeah. Those.” He smiled. “I was gonna bring them to you and then get down on one knee. Like this.”

“That’s very old fashioned of you.” You couldn’t help but blush as Peeta got down on one knee in front of you.

“I know. But that’s all I know how to be. An old fashioned romantic. I even practiced how to get the ring out with one hand.” Peeta said as he struggled to get the ring from around his neck.

“You didn’t practice very hard.” You teased.

“Shh. Yes I did. I’m just nervous.” He laughed and finally got the ring free.

“Don’t be.” You told him. “It’s just you and me.”

“I was gonna explain how I got the ring. But I already told you that so pretend I was proposing then.” He said and waved his hand, making you laugh.

“Okay. I will. Oh, wow. My father’s ring? That he gave to your mother? Meaning we were almost siblings? How romantic.” You dramatically played along to humor him.

“Hush now. I’m trying to remember my plan. Then I was gonna tell you…” He trailed off again and a sheepish smile broke through on his face. You could see him losing his confidence but didn’t want him to stop.

“Tell me what?” You asked quietly and took his hand.

“I was going to say that you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. And that I’ve seen a million sunsets since bakers have to get up before dawn but not one of them could compare to you. I would’ve said that you enchanted me from the first day I saw you and every day since. And that to know you is to be in awe of you. I would have told you that you were the strongest person I know and if you’d let me, I’d help you bear some of the weight you have on your shoulders.”

“Keep going.” You whispered and held his hand to your chest.

“Oh, okay, um. I was gonna tell you that I know you don’t love me yet but you could learn to. And that I would make it easy for you. I would promise to be the best partner you could ask for and to love you at every turn, no matter what gets thrown our way. I’d promise to wash your hair in the sink the way your mama does and build you a desk so that you can write letters to your family. And then I’d ask you to make me the happiest man alive and please-“

“Yes.” You cut him off as a single tear slipped down your face.

“Yes?”

“Yes.” You repeated. “I will marry you.”

“You will?” He smiled in disbelief as his eyes searched yours for signs of insincerity.

“I will. I want to. I’d love to. I love…” You trailed off and he sucked in a sharp breath in anticipation of what you were about to say.

“I love you.” You said finally. “And if I’m on this train forever, at least I have you with me. That means it’s going to be okay.”

“I love you too.” Peeta smiled at those long awaited words hitting his ears. You pulled him into a long kiss despite no cameras being around. But you both knew this moment wasn’t for the cameras. It was just for the two of you. When you pulled away, Peeta fumbled around with the ring.

“Sorry. My hands are shaking.” He was embarrassed to admit as he tried to steady them long enough to untie the chord around the ring.

“It’s okay. Take your time.” You assured him and he eventually slipped the leather chord off. He looked you in the eyes for one last confirmation and you nodded enthusiastically. With that, Peeta slid the song onto your finger and then leaned down to kiss your knuckles. You laughed at the gesture before cupping his face and bringing him into a kiss. Peeta got off his knee but never broke the kiss. A sudden knock at the door made you jump apart. Peeta sat on the opposite end of the couch while you smoothed your hair and wiped your face.

“Come in.” You called out and Haymitch walked in.

“Hey. I just wanted to check in on you guys after our conversation back there.” He said.

“We’re fine. We were just talking about the engagement. Peeta said we could go on Cesar’s show and he could propose then.” You lied to Haymitch with a smile.

“All right. Works for me. I’ll let Effie know.” Haymitch gave you a thumbs up and then left the room. When he was gone, Peeta looked at you curiously to see why you lied.

“We still have to fake one for the Capital, but this I’ll remember this as our real engagement.” You explained, making him smile fondly.

“One for us, one for them.” He replied and you nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. One for us, one for them.”

Tag list 🏷️

@ilovetoomanymen @kittimbo @sipsthecoffee @ohmyhuenings @ilykitwalker

@mayemperess @scenesofobx

@basicb1tchboy @planetevermore @bellasfavbisexual @kochothehoe

#peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark angst #peeta mellark fanfiction #peeta mellark fanfic #peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark #peeta x reader

507 notes · View notes

mopopshop · 5 months ago

Text

Complications (Paige Bueckers x OC)

based on this request <-

okay so i lied, i wrote this like immediately after it was requested bcs i loved the idea sm, i’m actually really happy with this one and i hope y’all like it too

send more requests for this series if you’d like, enjoy and give feedback!! 🫶🏾🫶🏾😝

warnings: kinda angsty, swearing

It's a warm Friday afternoon, and you’re caught up at work, your laptop pinging with notifications and emails that need immediate attention. You sigh, glancing at the clock, knowing you won't be able to make it home in time to drop Rya off at Caleb’s for the weekend.

You dial Paige’s number, and she picks up on the second ring. "Hey, baby," she says, her voice a comforting contrast to your stressful day.

"Hey, P. I'm so sorry, but I'm swamped at work. Can you drop Rya off at Caleb’s? He wants her over for the weekend"

"Of course," Paige replies without hesitation. "No problem. I’ll take care of it."

"Thank you," you say, feeling a rush of gratitude. "I owe you one."

Paige laughs softly. "You don’t owe me anything, babe. See you when you get home, love you”

“Love you,” you say then hang up and dive back into your work, trusting Paige completely.

---

Paige arrives at Caleb’s house with Rya, the little girl chattering excitedly about her day the whole way there. They approach the door, and Paige rings the bell. Caleb opens it, his expression immediately shifting to one of annoyance when he sees Paige.

"Hey, man" Paige murmurs. "Rya’s ready for the weekend."

Caleb ignores her, not meeting her eyes. "Rya, go put your stuff in your room."

Rya gives Paige a quick hug before running inside with her backpack.

“Where’s Alara?”

“Uhh she got caught up at work and asked me to drop off Ry” Paige says, standing there awkwardly and waiting to make sure everything is okay.

"Is there something you need?" Caleb asks, his tone clipped.

Paige is taken aback but remains calm. "Nah-no, I just wanted to make sure everything was good before I left."

"We’re good," he deadpans before shutting the door in her face.

Paige walks back to her car with her hands stuffed in her pockets, feeling a knot of unease in her stomach. She drives home, her mind replaying the interaction. When she arrives, she finds you sitting on the couch, finally off work and relaxing.

"Hey, how did it go?" you ask, looking up with a smile.

Paige sits beside you, her expression troubled. "Um.. It was weird? Caleb was real short with me and kind of rude. I don’t know what his problem is, but it felt off."

Your smile fades, replaced by a frown. "He did what?"

"He barely said anything to me and shut the door in my face" Paige explains, her discomfort evident.

Anger bubbles up inside you. "Are you fucking serious?"

"Lara, baby, maybe we should just let it go," Paige suggests, but you’re already grabbing your keys.

"Yeah no. He doesn't get to treat you like that," you say firmly, heading out the door.

---

You arrive at Caleb’s house, your anger simmering just below the surface. You knock on the door with more force than necessary. Caleb opens it, looking surprised to see you.

" What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk," you say, pushing past him into the house.

"About what?" Caleb asks, his tone defensive.

"About the way you treated Paige earlier," you snap. "She did me a favor by bringing Rya here because I was stuck at work, and you were being a dick to her. What's your problem?"

“I don’t have a fucking problem with her”

“Oh? Really? You barely spoke to her and slammed the door in her face but that’s you not having a problem with her?”

Caleb's face hardens, his jaw clenching. "I just don't think it's appropriate for her to be so involved in Rya's life. She's not Rya's parent."

"And you think you have the right to decide that?" you snap back. "Paige has been more of a parent to Rya than you ever have. She's there for her every day, supporting and loving her."

"I'm her father," Caleb insists, his voice growing louder. "I have a right to be concerned about who she's spending time with."

"And I'm her mother, who she happens to spend 95% of her time with” you counter. "And right now, Paige is the one who's consistently there. If you want to be more involved in Rya's life, then be here. Show up. Don't just pop in and out whenever it's convenient for you and then act like you have any authority over who can and can't be around her."

Caleb's fists clench at his sides. "I want to be there for Rya, but it’s not easy."

"But it is!" you laugh exasperatedly, covering your hands with your face.

“My god, You didn’t even deal with the hard shit! Jesus, Caleb, do you know how dense you sound right now? You were barely fucking there for my pregnancy—“

“I had shit going on! I was a kid who was still in school, who had a year of school left—“

“So was I! Do you think I wanted to balance growing an entire human inside my body and school at the same time?”

Caleb stares back at you in silence as you continue.

“I was the one who had to get two jobs to support me and Rya. I was the one who still managed to finish school with an 8 month old. I was the one who managed— despite everything! to get into college and pursue a degree. So trust me, showing up for your daughter is the bare minimum at this point”

Caleb's face contorts with a mix of frustration and guilt, but you press on, your voice unwavering.

"You think it's so hard for you? Imagine how hard it is for Rya to have a father who shows up whenever he feels like it. Do you know how many times she's asked why you weren't there for her school events? Or why you missed her birthday last year? She deserves better than that."

Caleb looks away, his fists still clenched. "I know I've messed up. But I'm trying."

"Trying isn't good enough," you say firmly. "Actions speak louder than words, Caleb. If you really want to be a part of Rya's life, you need to prove it. Be a consistent presence in her life. Until you do, you don't get to undermine the people who are actually here for her."

Caleb glares at you, his eyes flashing with anger. "It's not that simple, Alara. You have no idea what I'm dealing with."

"You're right," you say, your voice steady but full of fury. "I don't know because you never communicate. You think you can just waltz in and out of Rya's life and dictate who gets to be involved? It doesn't work that way. Paige and I have been together for two and a half fucking years! I mean— when are you gonna accept that Rya sees her as a parent already??”

Caleb's face reddens, but he doesn't respond. The silence stretches between you, thick with unresolved tension.

"I'm�� I’m done with this conversation," you say finally, turning to leave. "Just know this: Paige isn’t going anywhere. If you want to be a part of Rya's life, you need to accept that."

You slam the door behind you, your heart pounding with adrenaline and anger. As you drive home, your thoughts swirl with frustration.

When you walk in the door, Paige is waiting, concern etched on her face.

"How did it go?" she asks softly, walking up to you and giving you a kiss

"Not great," you admit, reaching up around her neck to hug her. "But I made it clear that he doesn’t have a say in whether or not you can be around Rya”

Paige wraps her arms around you, providing the comfort you need. "We'll get through this," she whispers.

You nod, leaning into her embrace, knowing that no matter what happens with Caleb, you have a strong, loving family right here.

———

#women’s basketball #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa #wnba #wlw #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x black!fem reader #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #paige bueckers blurbb

299 notes · View notes

puck-luck · 4 months ago

Text

play house with me | alex lyon

warnings: breeding kink HEAVYYYYY, use of mommy/mama/daddy but it’s very brief and not always related to the sex, obvious creampie???, childhood best friends to lovers &&& co-parents LOVE, mentions of breastmilk during the fucking (alex will totally want to try said breastmilk when it comes in), dirty talk pairing: alex lyon x fem!reader request: yes (alex lyon gets reader pregnant woohoooooo) wc: 2940

Everyone has made a deal like this before– especially those with guy best friends, like you. It didn’t help that you had had an on-again, off-again crush on Alex since you both were teenagers and he had grown into his looks. You had known him for practically your whole life and Alex was the picture-perfect boy next door with his dark curls and goofy personality, so it was a no-brainer when Alex proposed a pact.

You were both eighteen at the time, ready to go your separate ways for college. It was late, a warm and humid summer night, and you and Alex has just gone for ice cream. You were picking at your cup of ice cream with your spoon, watching it melt in the rapid summer heat. It was then that Alex said, “You know, if we’re thirty and neither of us are with someone else, we should have a kid.”

It was no secret that you wanted to have kids, nor a secret that Alex wanted to have kids, so the deal was a no-brainer. You said yes, not thinking much of it because… why wouldn’t you be with someone by age thirty?

Well, it’s funny. Yesterday was your thirtieth birthday, and here you are: single. Frustrated and annoyed can also describe your current state.

Alex had texted you the day before to wish you a happy birthday, promising to see you when he came back into town today. He should be on the way to your apartment right now and all you can think about is the deal you made twelve years prior.

You had no doubt about it– you wanted to have a baby and you wanted to do it with Alex. You just had to broach the subject, but you were torn about how to bring up the deal without sounding desperate or weird. There was a chance Alex wouldn’t even remember your deal, even though he was the one who thought of it in the first place.

When he arrives and knocks on your front door, you let him in with an awkward hug hello. It’s only awkward because you know that you’re about to ask him something that will change your friendship and relationship forever. Alex, always able to read you like an open book, notices that you’re acting weird immediately and calls you out on it.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Alex asks, quirking an eyebrow at you with a bemused smile. “Are you alright?”

You groan, rolling your head back. “How do you always know?”

Alex’s smile turns into a proud smirk. “Because I know you. What are you thinking about?”

“Just some stuff about you and turning thirty,” you reply, ready to explain yourself further.

Alex interrupts. “Thinking about our baby pact?”

You balk at him, shocked. “How did you know?”

“Again– because I know you.” Alex repeats. His gaze takes in your features, admiring you. He brushes a piece of hair behind your ear. “Plus, it’s part of the reason why I wanted to see you today.”

“Oh, yeah?” You ask, a little laugh tinging your words. “You wanted to come over so we could discuss babies?”

“Isn’t that why you agreed to have me over?” Alex answers with his own question, smug because he knows he’s right. “So that we could even go a little further, since you’re thirty now, and our pact has to come to fruition?”

You blush, biting your lower lip and rolling your eyes. You’re pretending to be annoyed, but you’re really just fond. Alex does know you best, can practically read your mind and provide you with anything you want before you realize you want it. Before now, that mostly related to when you could go and get food together– he always knew exactly what you were craving, always taking you to the right restaurant that would hit the spot and satisfy you indefinitely.

Now, it’s a much bigger decision, one that will change your lives forever, but Alex is completely on board. So are you.

Once again, it’s a no-brainer.

“I wouldn’t complain,” you tease, purposefully coy.

“Good.” Alex sweeps you off your feet, carrying you over one shoulder. “We can talk about everything later. I’ve been dying to get my hands on you for years.”

He says it casually, like that’s not the most Earth-shattering revelation you’ve ever heard. You and Alex had always toed the line of flirtation and all of your friends swore that you were meant to be, but things had never gone this far. You and Alex had never kissed, save for one accidental peck when you turned your cheek in surprise and caught his lips, the ones intending to meet your skin in a sweet greeting. It had caused a laugh, but it was the closest to romance that you and Alex had ever physically experienced.

Now, he’s tossing you on your bed and climbing above you like this is an everyday occurrence.

“Alex,” you say, putting a hand on his chest to stop his movements. “Are you really, really sure about this? It’s a big decision.”

“I’ve wanted to have a baby with you since I was five years old and you made me be the daddy when we played house,” Alex replies, leaning down to capture your earlobe between his teeth. “You were the mommy to our little baby doll and the idea never left my mind. Now we’re thirty, single, and I think we should make my dream a reality. I’m all in, Y/N.”

A breath of relief leaves your lungs at his reassurance. He mouths along your jaw, coming to hover with his lips just out of reach of your own. You look up at him, waiting for him to make a move.

Alex looks up from your lips, finding your eyes. “Are you really, really sure about this?” He parrots back, lips twisting up at the edges. “You’re the one who’s going to be tasked with carrying our baby.”

You make a soft noise of assent, the breathy moan pulled from your stomach like a gut-punch.

Alex chuckles. “You like that, huh?” He brushes a kiss against the left corner of your mouth, then the right. “You’re going to look so pretty all swollen and full of me. I want it so bad, Y/N. I’ll give you as many babies as you want. I might have to keep you pregnant all the time– you’re going to glow, darling.”

Moaning again, you bring your hands up to his face and pull him into you, crashing your lips against his. Eager and desperate, you kiss him until you’re breathless and your cheeks have gone hot. As far as first kisses go, this is your favorite one you’ve ever had. Alex is confident and just as eager as you are, his tongue filling your mouth and tasting you like he could devour you. Inadvertently, you find yourself wondering how his tongue would feel against your clit and your entrance, but that can wait for another time.

Another time, because this will certainly be happening again. It’s the easiest decision you could ever make, seeking out Alex again. You’re comfortable with him, you’re happy when he’s around, and you love him deeply. You know him and he knows you. Your friends were right all along– you two are meant to be.

“Do you want it? I need you to tell me,” Alex implores between kisses, allowing his hands to roam over your body.

It’s distracting and it takes a moment for his words to click, especially when his hands find their way under your shirt and start to pet over the skin under which your ribs reside.

“I want it,” you cry when Alex’s fingertips graze your underboob. You whine when his fingers withdraw from your middle, but Alex soothes you with a whispered coo and a soft kiss to your lips.

He lifts your shirt over your head, leaving you in your bra underneath him. He grabs his own shirt by the back collar, pulling it over his head and revealing his bare chest to your wandering eyes. You drink him in, running your hands all over his warm body and feeling the ridges of the muscles he’s worked so hard to build and maintain over the years.

He brings a hand to your chest, cupping the swell of your breast and fishing your boob out of the article of clothing, pinching your nipple. After one final kiss, Alex brings his lips down and replaces his fingers with his teeth, nibbling at the peak of your breast before sucking.

You arch your back, your hand fisting his curls again. You moan out a wanton sound and you can feel Alex’s lips curve into a smile against your skin. He releases your nipple with a wet pop, kissing over your sternum and up your neck.

“So pretty, mama,” Alex mumbles against your skin, lips warm and scarring. You wish you could tattoo the path he takes along your chest, physically marking your body permanently so you never forget this. “Let’s make a baby, hm? Give me a real reason to use that name?”

“Give me a baby,” you agree, tousling his curls. “I wanna make you a daddy, Alex.”

Alex groans against your skin, popping the button on your jeans and drawing the zipper down. His mouth doesn’t leave your body, not even for a second as he struggles to work the tight denim down your body.

You adjust yourself on the bed, helping him push the fabric down. You take to his own bottoms, tugging eagerly at his waistband until he gets the hint and removes his shorts. You push him down, making him sit back against the headboard. You swing a leg over his lap, straddling him. Still separated by the barrier of both of your underwears between you, you sink down on his bulge in a satisfying grind.

Alex’s hands find your hips, pulling you flush against him and rolling his own hips. He reconnects your lips, swallowing every sound you make and vice versa. He’s straining against his boxers, pulsing against you with each grind.

“I want to ride you,” you tell Alex. “Just like this.”

Alex moans, closing his eyes and throwing his head back, knocking it against the headboard in the process. “Fuck,” he breathes out. “Want me to prep you?”

“No, I want to feel everything,” you say. “I want to feel your big cock stretch me all on its own before it fucks a baby into me.”

Your words only spur him on and he jostles you on his lap as he tries to remove his underwear without feeling your absence. You take matters into your own hands and remove yourself from his lap to take off your own underwear, tossing it onto the floor without another thought, the thin scrap of fabric joining the rest of your scattered clothes.

Both bare and dripping, you climb back on top of Alex, fitting his cock between your folds to grind against him before allowing him to breach your entrance. You spread your slick all over his member, using his precum and your wetness as lube.

Alex whines at the contact, clutching at your skin desperately after he removes your bra with both hands. Your boobs sit prettily on your chest, drawing Alex’s eyes and causing his pupils to swell. He cups one and licks over the nipple he hadn’t previously sucked, needing something to occupy his mouth and muffle his sounds. He’s far gone– the idea of filling you up has him channeling something primal, overtaken by his instinct to stuff you with his cock and thoroughly breed you.

He wasn’t lying when he said he’d been thinking about it for years– one of the images that caused him to spill over his fist countless of times in his twenties was just this: fucking you bare and starting a family with you, forever entertwining your souls and destinies in an irreversible way. You would be his, in this way, forever. He could shoot off now thinking about it, but the promise of the real thing stops him.

And the real thing comes sooner than he thinks, with you rising up onto your knees and lining him up with your entrance. You lower yourself down slowly, achingly slow. It takes everything out of Alex to not buck up into your heat as the head of his cock enters you with a jolt.

The sigh that leaves your mouth and the roll of your eyes chips away his restraint even more than your heat. All of your pretty noises are like a watering hole in the middle of the desert to Alex– and he’s lapping them up.

“Y/N,” Alex moans as you work your way down his shaft. Your walls hug him tightly, squeezing him as you take his cock. “Fuck, you feel so good. You’re made for me.”

“Alex,” you sigh, pressing his forehead against yours. You’re unable to form many words other than that– melting into a puddle of moans and whines as you find yourself sinking fully onto his length, enveloping him entirely. He reaches the deepest part of you, his tip nudging your back wall.

“Can’t wait to see these tits all full of milk,” Alex tells you, filling in the gaps of silence. He reaches up, cupping the weight in his palms and kissing over the smooth skin in his hands. “You’re going to be so great to our baby.”

You start to bounce on his cock, tossing your head back as the ecstasy of fulfillment washes over you. His words just spur you on.

“You’ll take care of them so well, won’t you?” Alex asks, his question rhetorical.

Your response is a moan and a stutter in your rhythm, which causes Alex to take over. He flips you over without pulling out, your back hitting the mattress and knocking the breath out of you.

Alex practically breathes life back into you when he kisses you, insistent but charged with the sweet love that you share for each other. It’s the love that you’ve shared since you were kids– and now, it’s the love that you’ll pass along to your child.

“Fuck, Alex,” you whine at the thought, unable to keep it to yourself. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Alex says, kissing you again. His thrusts are harder in this position, hitting you deeper.

It feels impossible, being in this position with Alex. Yes, your friends had always said that you and Alex were meant to be, but there was a line you’d never crossed. You never expected to cross it. Now, with Alex inside of you and filling you so well, ready to start the next chapter of your lives with each other, you can’t imagine it any other way.

Alex continues, pushing you further towards your peak. “This pussy was made to take my babies, huh? Made just for me?”

“Yeah,” you agree, breathless, pulling Alex down to connect your lips. You can barely handle the words, much less the little noises and grunts that fill your mouth during the kiss.

It’s like you’re becoming one being. Everything is perfect, and you’re feeling so good that your orgasm approaches quicker than expected.

“Alex, ‘m gonna come,” you let out, holding him tight.

“Let it go, lovebug,” Alex coos, tracing the line of your cheek with a light touch. “I’m right there with you.”

Your eyes roll back and your mouth opens in a silent scream. Alex continues to fuck into you, prolonging the waves of pleasure that overtake you with each bump of his cockhead against your g-spot. You’re moaning unintelligibly, jumbled words falling from your mouth and barely reaching Alex’s ears.

He shoots off when you keen into his mouth, teeth clashing in a messy union that has you on the verge of laughter. You’ve never laughed during sex before, but it just seems right. Everything with Alex seems right.

His seed fills you and warms you from the inside out, settling deep in your core and coating your walls in the weirdest, most unique feeling you’ve ever experienced. You can feel the come dripping down from your ridges, letting gravity take control as it starts to leak out of you when Alex pulls out.

You pout, closing your legs as much as you can with Alex still between them in order to keep his release from leaving you, desperate for it to take.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” Alex soothes, brushing your hair away from your face and thumbing over the sweat on your brow.

You don’t reply, enamored by the way his own curls have gone sweaty and his cheeks and dusted with a blush from the exertion of your union. You bite your lip as Alex opens his mouth to speak again, admiring his straight white teeth in a moment that should be weird, but isn’t. You hope your baby has his teeth– no need to pay for braces, not that that’s something you’d have to worry about with Alex’s salary.

“We’re going to go again in a bit, I think,” Alex muses, his words a proposition rather than a command, despite his definitive tone. He kisses over your face, little pecks that make you giggle again. His lips find yours, sweet and chaste. When he pulls away, he whispers conspiratorially in your ear. “Gonna fuck you all night to make sure this takes.” He winks, a smile crossing his face. “Join me in the shower, mama? I want to wash your hair for you.”

note: this is for my lyon girlie who was all up in my asks, ily <3 i hope i captured your man well and you enjoyed this <3

#puck-luck's fics #andy writes anything🍄#alex lyon #alex lyon smut #alex lyon x reader #alex lyon x y/n #al34 #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey smut

228 notes · View notes

yellowbrokenblue · 10 months ago

Text

„Just… Pretend.”

summary: in which harry convinces you to spend your summer in cape cod with his parents as his ‘girlfriend.’ but everything is just pretend, your not actually his girlfriend and you never have wanted to be his girlfriend, you’ve never seen him as more than harry styles, the singer… but by the end of the summer will that change?

tropes (so far) : fake dating

part one

“It’s just for one weekend.” He pleaded, “Then you can go back to hating me. You never even have to talk to me again, I don’t care.”

You sigh, your head falling backwards with a groan. You did not want to do this at all, but he’d been persistently asking you for days.

“C’mon, please?”

You roll your eyes, “You’re on a date with a new girl every week, I’m sure any of them would be up for it.”

“I can’t just take anyone to my parent’s place.”

“Why not? Or how about you just tell them you’re not seeing anyone right now? They won’t care.”

“I just need you to come, alright? I’ll owe you one, I promise.”

“Why me? There’s a million other people you could take, besides I’ve already met your parents at a show, they’ll never believe we’re seeing each other.”

“And they really liked you!”

“There’ll be a ton of other people that they like too, Harry. Choose anyone else.”

“I can’t.” He sighs.

“You can.”

“I can��t.” He repeats.

You look at him with tired eyes, awaiting his explanation. You’d been over this a hundred times, you had no interest in pretending to be his girlfriend while he visited his parents over the summer.

“I already told them we’re together.” He says quietly, avoiding eye contact.

“What?” You scoff, “You’ve gotta be joking.”

“They just… They met you at the show, and they really did seem to like you, and they kept going on and on about how they want me to find someone who makes me happy and stuff and I shut them up by saying we’re together…”

“You’re unbelievable.” You say, annoyed.!

The fact he’d been telling his parents ridiculous lies without even telling you about it, when said lies actually involved you had pissed you off.

Harry’s parents were lovely, and a producer on his latest album you’d met them a couple times at shows- Especially during the LA residence where you and his parents sat through the concerts in a VIP booth. His mum was lovely, always smiling and knew every single lyric. She told you that she was in Harry’s 0.5% of top listeners on Spotify last year.

You thought that was cute.

 You couldn’t relate though, 5 Seconds of Summer were your top Spotify artist- Harry could never find out about that.

“They’ve been asking for me to take you to the beach house for months-“

“Months?!” You interrupt, “How long have you been telling them we’re together?”

He shrugged, “Since the end of the Forum residency?”

“Harry that was SIX months ago!” You yell, “I can’t pretend to be in a six month relationship with you, that’s ridiculous.”

He sits down on the couch, hugging a pillow.

“Yes you can. You practically know everything about me already. We spent every day of the tour together.”

“Everything about you in a career aspect.”

“Everything in general.” Harry corrects, “Sometimes I think you know more about me than I do.”

“I don’t. You’re just saying this because you’re convincing yourself that this ridiculous idea will actually work.”

“Name my first pet.”

“What?” You question. He was being stupid. There is no way you’d ever be able to spend two weeks with his parents over the summer, it was never going to work. It was a recipe for disaster.

“C’mon. You know the answer.”

He just kept staring at you. He wasn’t giving up. The longer you stayed silent the more intense his stare got. When he began to raise his eyebrows you’d given up.

“Max.” You mutter quietly, unimpressed with this whole game he was playing.

“And what am I allergic to?”

“Marshmallows, but you eat them anyway.”

Harry was grinning, and it was pissing you off. He was winning and he knew it.

“My favourite Christmas song?”

You rolled your eyes, “Christmas lights by Coldplay, but you tell everyone that it’s Merry Christmas Everyone because it’s a classic.”

Harry was giving you a ‘I told you so’ look. He wasn’t going to quit until you agreed to pretend to be his girlfriend.

You sigh softly, “Even if I agree to this… It could he really damaging for my career.”

“No one will find out.” His face was more serious now, and you could tell from the way he was looking at you that he meant it, “I’ll make sure of that.”

“But if if does-”

“It won’t.”

“But if it does, because there’s always a chance no matter what you think, then everyone will only think I got hired to tour manage because we’re ‘sleeping together.’” You say, using air quotes, just to further elaborate that this was all fake.

Harry had already got his grammy, he was at the peak of his career he’d be fine no matter what happened. But you were a female music producer in a male dominated industry, if people think you were only hired for this album because you’re fucking the singer- your career was over.

“If people find out I’ll kill you.”

“Does this mean you’re gonna agree?”

You nod, reluctantly.

“Thank you!” He jumps out of his chair, “I swear I’ll make it up to you, thank you so much.”

— — —

If you were in Harry’s position you’d be vigilant of everything, everyone, everywhere. You’d be paranoid of someone jumping through your bedroom window while you were asleep. But Harry was oddly calm. Maybe he was just like that. His lips were formed almost in a smile while he slept, and his eyes were moving under his eyelids- probably from a dream he was having. He wasn’t calm very often- recently he’d been very on edge and anxious about everything, it was nice to see him look so peaceful. You hoped for that sort of peace someday soon.

You had been in the studio going on six hours, and when he’d taken a break from recording so you could go over the tracks he’d managed to fall asleep in that short period of time.

You let him sleep while you packed up the equipment, putting things back into their assigned places, and didn’t bother waking him up until you were 100% ready to go.

“Harry,” You said softly, shaking his shoulder lightly, “Harry we gotta go.”

His eyes opened and he blinked a few times to adjust himself to the light.

“Huh?”

“We only had the studio booked until six, we gotta go.”

“Oh,” He sat up, stretching his arms and cracking his neck that had went into a cramp, “Sorry, don’t even remember falling asleep to be honest.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You shrug, “We got enough done today anyways. You deserve a rest.”

There were only three days left until the day Harry had said you were leaving for his parents place, and you had skipped over the subject every time he’d tried to bring it up. You didn’t really want to think about it because you were dreading it so badly.

“I’ll give you a ride home.” Harry said as you left the studio building.

“No, it’s alright.” You say, “I’ll just get an Uber.”

Harry glared at you, “Y/N, just get in the car.”

You glare back. But it had been a long day so getting a free lift wasn’t so bad.

“So.” He said, starting the car. “We gotta go over some things.”

“About the album?” You play dumb.

“… No.” He rolls his eyes, “Stop pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Love, you gotta tell me some stuff about you. My parents are gonna ask me shit and I don’t have a clue what to tell them.”

You groan. You should’ve stuck to your gut and got an Uber.

“Like what.”

He shrugs, “What’s your favourite colour?”

“Purple.” You reply.

“Mines is blue.”

“I know,” You reply.

“What’s your favourite song?” He asked.

You laughed to yourself a little.

“Jet black heart,” You grin, knowing you’d get some sort of reaction out of this answer, “By 5 Seconds of Summer.”

“5 Seconds of Summer?” Harry scoffs, “They’re punks!”

You roll their eyes, “They turned to pop music and half of them are married, they’re hardly punks.”

“You know one of them dated my sister, right?” Harry groaned.

“Yep,” You grin, “And wrote a banging tune about it as well.”

“Don’t remind me.” He muttered.

“Look, you asked me a question and I gave you an honest answer. You can’t complain.”

“I know, I know.” Harry said, “You got any exes?”

You raise your eyebrows, “What?”

“This is the kind of stuff I need to know! Like I dunno if I’m your first boyfriend and all that.”

“Harry… I’m 24 years old. You’re not my first boyfriend.”

You said it almost as if he was your boyfriend. It sent a chill down your spine. This was going to be a long few weeks.

“Good to know.” He said.

He dropped you off outside your apartment.

“I guess the next time I see you will be for when we’re leaving, yeah?”

You nod. There was no studio session booked until after his vacation to Cape Cod, where his families beach house was, so he was right. The next time you see him would be at the airport.

“Flights at seven.” He says.

“Got it.”

The next few weeks were going to be hell.

part two coming soon…

support me through ko-fi! (buy me a coffee!!)

#harry styles x reader #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles story #fake dating #fake dating trope #fake relationship

489 notes · View notes

peachiieu · 4 months ago

Text

the ninja with ninja!reader who has spatiokinesis

pairings: main 6 x reader (separate, ninjago)

warnings: violence, cussing

authors note: spatiokinesis is the power to manipulate space and everything in it, i think it’s so cool because there’s not really a space ninja, i feel like a ninja with spatiokinesis would have a purple gi but doesn’t nelson have that? not sure if i described this stuff right because i got a lot of information, some opposing each other so sorry about that. also, i did a oneshot + hcs for this preference! send requests, i love doing them :3

word count: 6.8k

COLE BROOKSTONE

you and cole are resting in the living room of the monastery, playing video games together on the couch. a blanket is draped on your laps as your knees touch, controllers in your hands. the both of you are talking, subjects switching from the video game itself to missions.

the conversations subject switches, as you finish the game and put your controllers down, cole looks in your direction and smiles, “hey, i’m glad we’re together right now. we haven’t been able to hang out, like, at all for the past few months. i’ve really missed you…”

you smile back at him, a vulnerable moment between you two. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, placing your head near his neck. he wraps his arms around your waist, the two of you stay like that for a couple minutes, murmuring soft whispers to each other.

the moment is interrupted when the door is opened, a voice you recognize as master wu greets, “cole, y/n.” you lift your head, unwrapping your arms from cole as he does the same, the two of you look at each other then to master wu. the rest of the ninja walk in, sitting on the couches and chattering amongst each other.

the bearded man walks in your direction, standing in between two couches, all of your attention on him. he speaks, “two of you have to go on a mission, a mission to make allies with two kingdoms. one on earth… and one on a different planet.” he pauses, “and it will be cole and y/n. the rest of you are excused.”

the ninja gasp, immediately erupting with words of disbelief and arguing with him. they soon walk out one by one as master wu ushers them out. you and cole look at each other, smiling, you whisper to him, “we’ll have more time together then, yeah? could be fun, i know all about space!” master wu coughs, your attention on him again. he says, “the two of you are going, space and earth go hand in hand. you complete each other, and i’m sure you’ve noticed that long ago.” he pauses, smiling, “you will leave in two days. i will tell you more tomorrow, get some sleep, you two.”

he walks out of the room as you thank him, you exclaim, “oh my gosh! we’ll have so much time together, i’m so excited!” he replies, “i bet it’ll be so fun, ooh! and since we’re gonna be in kingdoms, we’ll probably get good food and,” his mouth opens, his eyes glistening with anticipation, “really comfortable beds!”

you gasp, “you’re right! and we’ll get to go to a planet! i’ve been to a few planets, but never one that had a kingdom!” he replies, “wait, wait, wait. which planets have you been to? are they cool?” hours pass by as the conversation goes on and on, eventually falling asleep in each others arms.

the two of you are literally so perfect together, earth and space complete one another, as do you and cole

both of you make an effort to learn about the others powers and even have to go on missions, just the two of you, because your powers compliment each others so well

probably randomly calls you a cringe but cute nickname related to space because he loves to see you flustered then roll your eyes

you have something between you two that is seemingly unexplainable by everyone around you, you and cole see each other as equals and love each other

all the ninja believe you’re soulmates, you fulfill each other in ways the team can’t possibly comprehend but see how much the earth can’t live without space, literally and figuratively

occasionally, he’ll ask you to create a portal so the two of you can see the earth although you’re on it

he just thinks it’s beautiful and because it’s surrounded by space, it’s even better, believing there is nothing more appealing than that view while being in your presence

JAY WALKER

you and the ninja are in a warehouse, each of you watching above from the top of the large shelves. you and jay kneel down next to each other and looking amongst each other. you then hear clanging in front of you, a large door, sparks coming from the sides, grabbing your attention.

the door falls down, you see the mechanic and his henchmen standing in place. he smirks, “we’re in, boys!” they look around, not yet walking in, he continues, “look at all this old junk…” he turns to the man in a hoodie and mask next to him, grabbing his hood and saying, “just because it’s old doesn’t make it junk, just forgotten.” the mechanic drops the man, pointing in front of him, commanding, “find the motherboard!”

the henchmen, dressed in various outfits rush to look through all the junk. the mechanic walks through the warehouse, looking around in case he spots anything interesting. he sees a box, one filled with all kinds of circuit boards. he stops in his tracks, pointing at it, “there! the top shelf!”

one of the men grab a latter, placing it on a shelf so he can climb up. he grabs the box, accidentally dropping it, yelping, and falling into another box filled with styrofoam. the mechanic scolds him, “careful with those!” and grabs the man’s clothing, pulling him out of the box, causing the man to fall to the ground.

the mechanic examines at the circuit boards, looking out for a black and red one. “what are we looking for, boss?” one of the henchmen asks, approaching the mechanic. he replies, “this is it! a needle in a haystack… a very, very valuable needle.” he says, the henchmen surrounding him and looking at the board.

you pat nya on the shoulder, nodding as a gesture to show herself to the mechanic and her henchmen. she then nods, looking to the other ninja as they nod too, lloyd gives jay the signal to turn on the lights. he zaps the light switch, turning it on and causing the group below to look around, covering their eyes.

you stand up, the rest of the ninja doing the same as you all look down on the group. nya announces, “sorry to crash the party, boys!” you all jump down, the blue ninja next to you jokes, “guess our invitations got lost in the mail, huh?” first looking at the mechanic then to you. the skin around his eyes crinkle, you guess he is smiling.

you smile back, he begins to grab out his sword when lloyd objects, “no weapons, guys! these are just low level thugs.” you put your arm in front of jay, he puts his arm back to his side and gives up trying to take his weapon out. “my fists are my weapons!” cole says, punching the air.

zane looks at the other ninja, arguing, “i would not classify the mechanic as ‘low level.’ he is suspected in thirty-six unsolved criminal cases.” he gestures to the man, uncertainty visible just through his upper half of his face.

“thirty-seven.” the mechanic corrects, he takes out a machine. an arm mechanism jumps out at the nindroid, forcing a yelp out of him and pushing him into a pile of junk. jay looks back, then to the mechanic, moving into a fighting stance, “you’re not getting away that easy!”

a surge of confidence runs through the mechanic, he smirks, “who’s trying to get away? there are more of us than you!” he gestures around him, holding his arms out and looking around. they are huddled in a group, almost as if they are trying to escape.

the leader scowls, nodding to come back to him. the men look nervous, eyes glancing at each other as they walk back to the mechanic, taking their weapons out. as two stand next to him, he says, “and we’re not afraid to use our weapons!” he uses a machine, flames come out of it as he aims it at lloyd, you chuckle, he fails to hurt the green ninja every time.

jay looks around, another box of circuit boards catches his eyes, he picks up three blue ones, grunting, “i have no problem using these!” he throws them at the group, “take that, obsolete file formats!” you giggle, your attention is on the mechanic once the motherboard falls out of his hands.

it falls onto the ground, kai runs to catch it, falling onto the ground as well. three men gang up on him, jumping onto him so he can’t get up. they grab his arm as he accidentally throws it to another man, who looks clueless as he doesn’t know what to do. he smiles, lloyd drops one of the men and throws him to the ground, chasing after the motherboard.

you roll your eyes at kai’s mistake, you look around to see jay getting targeted by another henchman. as they punch and kick each other, you open up a portal to space behind the man, “don’t fall in, jay!” a look of fear is on the henchman’s and jay’s face. he quickly snaps out of the surprised state of mind, using his lightning and zapping the man into the portal. it begins to get smaller and smaller as you close it.

the blue ninja looks amazed, “where did you learn to do that? that’s so cool!” he exclaims. you shrug, smiling as you’re focused on his compliment. “couldn’t have done it without you, honey!” you wink, he giggles, “oh, i love you so much—“ nya begins to tease the two of you, “mind helping, lovebirds?”

you and jay look to each other smiling before running after a couple men and fighting them.

jay loves figuring out how things work, being interested in technology and all that stuff

so it’s no surprise he’s at least a tad bit interested in space, it’s more how rocket ships work and how they’re made though

he gets all excited when asking if you’ve been to specific planets or have seen asteroids, comets, black holes, etc

“yeah, seeing two black holes collide wasn’t as scary as i thought it’d be—“

“what!? are you serious, that’s so cool! was it loud or silent, because i don’t understand?!”

he can go on and on just ranting about space as you will listen although you know more than he does

takes you to museums where there’s spacecraft, so technology, then there’s information about planets and assets in space, both of you enjoy it very much

makes jokes about space in hopes of you laughing at them, saying ‘it’s so quiet here… i’m just trying to fill the space’ while you guys are literally in space

KAI SMITH

you are at the library in the monastery of airjitzu, sitting and meditating on a mat you placed on a ground, different colored books stacked up around you. eyes closed, your legs crossed as your palms lay on your knees, your breathing is even and calm.

your mind is focused on how you can make up a plan to defeat krux and acronix, you were told you’re the most important ninja at the time because you’re the elemental master of space, meanwhile the twins are the masters of time.

time and space cannot exist without one another, they are linked as one, a single continuum. one of your ancestors had accidentally opened a wormhole, one people could travel through and survive in to time travel. the twins didn’t have all the time blades yet, so they had threatened your father to open a portal into space into a wormhole, which he had given into.

they have been changing the past, therefore affecting the future, and you are instructed to close the wormhole so they can’t travel. as they battle the elemental masters, they don’t have the forward blade but having the others.

you open your eyes at the sound of a door opening, frustrated at not being able to focus on opening a portal to space. you had never understood how you can survive without a suit, while other humans can’t. your throat tightens up, your eyes sting as kai walks in your direction, “hey, babe, you doing okay?”

he kneels down to your height as you are still sitting down, moving books out of the way so he can sit next to you. you hesitate, “i’m okay, i can’t focus that well… i need to close that wormhole, even if they succeed in fighting the elemental masters somehow, they don’t have the forward blade, so they can’t come back. but i can’t go back in time to destroy the blades, that would change everything…”

as you rant, your boyfriend begins to feel bad for you, you are clearly stressed but you are the only one who has the ability to deal with the twins. he stays quiet, you silence yourself for a few minutes, focused as your eyes are closed. you hold your hand out, a large, purple orb forming into a black portal, white spots as stars. a large, blue hole is within the portal, shining bright in your eyes, a wormhole, you think.

you look at kai before looking at the portal, he nods and smiles, “i’ll see you in a few minutes. be careful, please.” you nod, smiling at him and placing your hands on his shoulders, leaning to give him a kiss on the cheek. you look at him one last time before walking into the portal, it closes behind you.

you are enveloped by darkness, yet looking around and seeing small bright lights and circles that represent planets. as the large, blue hole is in front of you, you focus, purple lights coming out from both of your hands, brightness overcoming the wormhole. as noises overwhelm you, you open your eyes to see no wormhole left.

you turn around, observing your surroundings to see the wormhole is completely gone, you hope krux and acronix can’t come back. easily opening a portal back to the library of the monastery of airjitzu, seeing kai waiting for you, standing and pacing.

you use your powers to give you a boost, moving you closer to the portal as you lift your leg up to step onto the floor. you walk in, the portal closing behind you. kai runs to you, “oh, thank god, y/n! are you okay? did you close it?”

you nod, his hands on your shoulders, “i’m okay, i closed the wormhole but… i don’t know if it did anything.”

he responds, a small smirk on his face, “we’ll have to see then, won’t we?”

kai never understands a single word you say about space but listens anyway

sometimes you’ll tell him about supernovas or asteroids or anything else in space, he gets all confused and makes you repeat it

“y’know… i was close to the sun once, not enough to burn but enough to be super hot, and fuck, was it loud! shit almost burst my eardrums, was even worse since i was getting warmer by the second…”

“huh?”

he’ll make references to space when you’re talking about something, it lets you know he’s paid attention to your conversations

always talking about how he’s as hot as the sun, it’s such a basic thing he says but you laugh and roll your eyes each time, telling him it’s not the hottest thing that exists

probably got sucked into space once when you opened a portal in a fight, he couldn’t make any noise so you had to grab his hand within a few seconds and pull him back to you

after that, he brags to others that he’s been to space even though he was scared shitless when he was pulled into space on accident

teases you and calls you silly nicknames related to space

“they kinda look like a tardigay or whatever it’s called…”

“tardigrade… wait, kai, that’s so rude!!”

LLOYD GARMADON

your boyfriend, lloyd, trains arin and sora in the center of the monastery. he has been telling you about his nightmares, he’s been losing sleep more and has wanted to be in the same room with you almost all the time. you know you can’t do much to help him, but you decide to make him a little gift to hopefully cheer him up.

as you sit down at your desk in your room, you look at the framed photos, one with you and all the ninja making silly faces at the dinner table. the other is a photo of you and lloyd making shocked expressions in front of statues, designed to look like the two of you. you smile at the thought, remembering how excited you and the ninja were to see statues of yourselves.

you hear grunting and complaints from outside, causing you to become concerned. you stand up from your chair, walking to the door and leaning on it, watching lloyd correct sora and arin with their posture.

the former imperian pants, “why can’t we train on days when it’s colder? it’s like, scorching out here!” looking at arin, as he seems out of breath but standing up straight. lloyd places his hand on his hip, slightly annoyed, “i’m training you so you can become the best. can’t do that if you’re inconsistent with it.”

she rolls her eyes, complying, “fine.” and hops on one of the wooden pillars, jumping from each one to the next. arin looks at lloyd, gaining a nod as a gesture to follow after sora. as you watch, you remember how dreadful it was to train in thick clothes in hot weather.

you begin to feel bad for the kids, you walk outside your room to the kitchen, not being noticed as lloyd and the two kids are focused on their training. as you slide open the door to the kitchen, you walk in, opening the wooden cabinets and grabbing three large glasses. you then fill them up one by one with water from the sink.

once you are done, you walk back to the center of the monastery, waiting for the two kids to be done with the training course. lloyd’s back is to you, he sits on a mat as a table is in front of him, a small cup and a teapot on it.

you walk next to lloyd, standing next to him and bending down to hold a glass of water out to him. his attention is pulled away from arin and sora, he looks up at you and smiles. he gently grabs the glass from your hands, “thanks, honey. where’ve you been? i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever.” he places his hand on your back, drinking the glass of water you gave him.

“oh! i’ve been in my room for a while, i slept in really late, didn’t sleep that well last night. these are for the kids.” you say, gesturing to the glasses of water. the blonde smiles, placing his water down on the table in front of him and offering, “here, i’ll take those.” you smile as he takes them from your hands, your fingers brushing against each other.

you hear a thump, you and lloyd’s attention turn to the kids in front of you. arin’s bright orange hoodie is on the ground, he’s laying on his stomach as his arms are splayed out. sora stands near him, a disappointed look on her face as her arms are crossed.

lloyd has a worried look on his face, “arin, buddy, you okay? y/n got you two water—“ the boys head quickly turns back, placing his hands on the ground and standing up, running to the table as sora follows after him.

he grabs one of the glasses that looks more filled, lloyd’s glass is separated from the two others. arin gulps down the water in the glass, sora grabs hers, “finally, some water! i was so thirsty!” she drinks it quickly, wiping her mouth after she is done. they both place their cups on the table.

lloyd crosses his arms, a disapproving expression on his face, frowning at the two. arin and sora glance at each other, wondering why lloyd seems upset, their attention switches to the blonde. he crosses his arms and asks, “what do you say?” gesturing to you.

“thank you!” they both exclaim, eliciting a smile from you. arin looks at you for a second, a grin spreading across his face, the corners of his lips turn upwards, “you’re the space ninja!” you nod at him. sora looks at you and lloyd, noticing how his hand is on your back and how the space between the two of you is small.

she turns to the black haired boy next to him, whispering in his ear, “are they together? they’re super close and lloyd’s hand is on her back…” lloyd’s eyebrow goes up, he asks, suspicious, “hey, what are you two talking about?”

arin answers sora, not bothering to whisper, “uh…. i don’t know!” lloyd takes his hand off your back, placing his hands on his hips, a stern look on his face, “don’t know what?”

you place your hand on his forearm, softly saying, “i’ll be back in probably an hour, ‘kay, handsome?” his face relaxes into a lovesick grin, placing his hand on yours as you squeeze it and walk towards your room.

you chuckle as you hear mumbling and ‘oooh’s from the center of the monastery. you walk into your room, sitting on the chair meant for your desk and opening a portal to space. it’s dark in the portal, you focus, holding your hands out and forming a sphere out of dark matter. it forms into a small asteroid, probably about the diameter of the size of your hand, the tip of your middle finger to the bottom of the palm of your hand.

you use your powers to bring the small asteroid out of the portal, gently placing it on a stand on a silver sphere holder on your desk. you close the portal, taking clay out of the silver bag on your desk, coloring dye next to it. you form the body of a boy, adding spiked blonde hair to his scalp. you then add a small amount of green dye to some clay, making a shirt and wide leg pants for the boy, wrapping it around his legs, torso and arms.

taking a small amount of clay from the bag, about the size of the tip of your pinkie, you add a drop of red dye into it, mixing it and getting your hands red in the process. you form a bow tie, putting it on the boys green shirt, you then wrap another part of the red clay around his waist as a belt.

grabbing the black dye, you put a miniature amount into some clay, rounding two sections of it and forming it into eyes. you make three other sections, adding small buttons onto the boys shirt. you add a large amount of orange to a part of clay, making lines of it and connecting them to make a chair.

with the rest of the orange clay, you create shoes for the boy, sharp tips and small heels. it doesn’t look as appealing as you wished, you didn’t have brown dye so you decided to stick with orange. as you stick the shoes onto the boy, you place him on the asteroid. the chair is behind him, yet he is not sitting on it.

you create flowers with green, yellow and red clay, placing them in a group on the asteroid. taking some of the leftover red and green clay, you make a rose. you didn’t have something to cover it with, so you placed it on the asteroid and left it on there. with some orange clay, you make a stand after turning it into lines, connecting them. you round another part of it, forming it into a pan. you place the stand on an elevated part of the asteroid, placing the pan on the stand.

making roots out of dark orange clay, you place some onto the asteroid, scattering them. you stare at your creation, looking to your right and realizing that an hour has passed since you’ve seen lloyd. you snap back into reality, hearing words of advice from a familiar voice, he talks to his students.

you then hear, “alright, you two. once you’re done with the course, i’ll start making dinner.” arin and sora exclaim, cheering as you hear stomps and noises of jumping from pillar to pillar and ducking from moving targets. once you hear only speaking and steps moving to the kitchen, you assume sora and arin are gone.

you walk out, picking up the asteroid with your magic and heading to lloyd’s direction. the sky is dark, stars and lamps being the only sources of light. the blonde turns to you as he hears your footsteps, smiling at the sight of you.

he walks towards you, once you are in less than arms length apart, he looks at the asteroid and gasps, “is that the little prince?” there’s a smile on his face as he observes every part of it, you nod, “the little prince reminds me of you, ill make a little rake later so he can get rid of the baobabs.” he smiles at the little detail, you continue, “it’s for you.”

his mouth slightly widens, his expression softens as he looks at you with love, “you know i love that book, right?” he takes in more details about your creation, continuing, “we can put it on my desk in my room, but then i have to make dinner for sora and arin.”

the two of you walk to his room as you compliment, “those two are different, aren’t they? real talented, i don’t train them but i can hear them saying words, doubting themselves. they are capable of a lot more than they give themselves credit for.” you slide open the door to his room, asking, “here?” as you place it on his desk, he agrees.

after placing it on his desk, you continue to talk about the progress of the kids as you walk to the kitchen. arin and sora are at the dinner table, talking amongst one another. when you pass by, you and lloyd’s shoulders continuously bump against each other, talking as you take ingredients out of the fridge and pantry.

the two kids quiet down to listen in, hearing you and their mentor giggling and making jokes. the two of you call each other sweet names, complimenting each other. arin and sora look into the kitchen, seeing lloyd’s back and his blonde hair as he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your cheek.

sora smirks, looking at arin as his jaw looks like it’s about to drop to the ground. she chuckles, “told you.”

you and lloyd sometimes aren’t necessarily considered elements, as civilians would describe his power as ‘green’ and yours as ‘space’ but the other ninja have water, ice, fire, earth and lightning

so the two of you are kind of thought of as different, a bit separated from the ninja

he loves hearing you talk about space because you know all about it, he’s a total nerd and loves to add facts to yours

as there isn’t much to read about lloyd’s powers, he instead reads books and documentaries about space then brings it up in a conversation, or he asks you questions

“hey y/n, is space actually silent? i’ve heard a lot of information about it, but a lot of it opposes another thing… so…?”

“oh, yeah, it’s silent! there’s no molecules or atoms or any of that to carry a sound wave, so there’s no sound. there’s no air.”

if the two of you are separated because of a mission or one of you got captured, if lloyd can see space or the stars, he’ll just stare up at it for hours

it calms him down because he knows you’ll always be there in some figurative way, to him, you are space and everything in it

NYA SMITH

you scroll through tiktok, seeing a video of a couple writing their initials on a lock and placing it on a fence of some sort. you smile, it reminds you of nya. you send it to her, she replies, ‘THATS SO CUTEEE!! i have two locks come to my room ill show you’

closing out of the tiktok app, you press a button on the side of your phone to turn it off, sitting up from your bed and standing up. you slide open the door, sliding it closed after walking out. you walk to your right, your bedroom being right next to nya’s.

slowly sliding open the door, you hear a recognizable voice, “y/n? is that you? if so, come in! i have a sharpie we can write our initials with!” at the words of her welcoming you in, you fully slide open the door. she sits on the blue covers of her bed, a dark blue pattern near the feet of the bed.

a sharpie and two gold locks are in her hands, she smiles and looks up at you, gesturing for you to sit next to her. you sit down next to her, asking, “where would we put them after we’ve written our initials?”

she thinks for a moment, staring off at one of her weapons as she decides, “it wouldn’t be the healthiest to put it straight into the ocean, so maybe on a fence, like how it was shown in the video! then we can put the other one somewhere else too, where are you thinking for the other one?”

you think, she’s putting her lock near the ocean, which connects with her powers. you state, “i could connect it to the flag on the moon? i don’t know, that’s all i can think of…” you shrug.

“yay! it’s gonna be so cute, here, i already wrote my initials on two of them, write yours on too!” she exclaims, handing the sharpie and two locks to you. you grab the items from her, taking the cap off of the sharpie and writing your initial next to ‘N + ’ on both locks.

you ask, “should i put the lock on the flag on the moon now?” she nods, answering your question, “yeah! i can watch, i’ve always wanted to see the moon up close!” she chuckles. you warn her, “okay, but when i open the portal, do not get sucked in, just don’t fall in, it’s real dangerous!”

she nods, walking to the other side of the bed as you look back at her before looking in front of you. you use your powers, creating a portal to space, which happens to be right in front of the moon. you hop in, your powers assisting you, pushing you towards the moon. as you land, you walk around to find the flag of ninjago pushed into the surface.

as the lock is already unlocked, you give it a good look one more time before hooking it around the pole of the flag, pushing part of the metal into the lock itself. you smile, hopping and giving yourself a boost with your powers, the portal is still open. you travel to the portal, your girlfriend watching you intently.

you place your hands on the flooring of nya’s room, using leverage to push yourself up, stepping on the floor and walking in. you close the portal behind yourself, the black haired girl in front of you giggles, “that was so cool! now i can say i’ve seen the moon!”

you smile at her, walking over to her side of the bed and leaning into her, gently grabbing her hand and placing a soft kiss on her cheek. she smiles, “it’s getting late, hon. we should go to bed, it’s really late…”

looking to the clock on her desk, it’s past one in the morning. your eyes widen, you begin to yawn. both of you are already in your pajamas, so nya pulls the covers down, laying down in bed. she leaves some space for you, smiling.

you walk over to the entrance of her room, turning the lights off. you walk back to her, feeling around the bed as she pats the space next to her. you sit on the bed, laying down as you pull the blankets back onto your chest, turning on your side to face nya. you place an arm over her waist, she places a hand on your back.

“goodnight y/n…” she mumbles, slowly falling into a deep sleep. you are too tired to respond, mumbling no specific words.

both of you are so connected to your powers, she can take the form of the ocean as you can take the form of space itself or anything in it

as i said in a previous post, she loves going on dates with you where you dip your feet into the ocean while eating little snacks, whispering softly to each other as you look out for shooting stars

researches about topics you’ve previously talked about, wanting to have more advanced and detailed conversations about space with you

“hey, you know that star you were talking about a few days ago? i heard it was 20,000 to 25,000 kelvin… but what is kelvin anyway?”

“oh, it’s a measurement of temperature… it’s the same thing as celsius though, i don’t know why they had to make another name for it!”

gives you little gifts related to space because it reminds her of you, also keeps some in her bedroom in case you’re away for whatever reasons

you have a necklace with a bottle of water from the ocean in it, she has a necklace with a bottle of moon dust in it, gifted by each other

ZANE JULIEN

as you and zane stand in the middle of the monastery, you converse, deciding how you will train with one another. you ask, “z, how are we gonna train?” he smiles at the nickname, thinking for a few moments. “it would be most efficient to wear our gi and armor, but we haven’t have trained with no rules. lately, it has only been fist to fist fighting. using our powers would be a helpful way to train for today.”

you nod, agreeing, “that makes sense.” both of you back up from each other, a good amount of space between you two. you stare at zane, waiting for him to say when to fight, he stares back. you then hear a voice from behind you, one you can register as kai, “if you guys are training, you should just go—“ at the word, you and zane leap to each other.

the nindroid attempts to blast you with ice, failing as you dodge it. you hold up your hand, a circular, purple hue appears, which you can only guess is dark matter. you aim at zane, blasting it at him. he yelps, only dodging it by less than an inch.

frustrated by your failure, you scowl, opening a portal to space as your boyfriend uses his ice powers to make a flooring under you. you slide as he blasts you with ice, it hits your stomach, making you hunch over in pain. as it pushes you farther, you use your powers to bring a very small asteroid from the portal, smaller than zane himself yet as tall as half of his body. closing the portal, you use your powers to push it towards him.

his eyes widen using his ice powers to freeze it, making a pole to connect the asteroid and the ground, it freezes in midair. he doesn’t move, you rush towards him and exclaim, “oh gosh, i’m sorry, zane! i didn’t think about how that could really hurt you, are you okay?”

he stares at the asteroid, impressed, “that was… astonishing. when did you realize you could bring matter and energy from space into fights?” taking his attention off of the ice covered asteroid as it slowly melts to look at you. you reply, “oh, i’m not sure, actually. i just once opened a portal to space after studying how to, then at first, i made a star small somehow. like, really small, maybe a bit bigger than my fist, then i sort of threw it at a training dummy, not with my bare hands, but with magic, you know!” you got nervous and began to rant.

“have you ever thrown someone into the portal? have you gone into space yourself?” he asks, tilting his head as he is highly interested to know about your journeys and experiences. you immediately nod, “yes to both of your questions! i’ve thrown people into space portals, some people have tripped into them.. but i sort of make sure they’re safe-ish before they go in! so a few minutes later, i can bring them back! it’s cool, they get all scared and stuff and most of the time don’t bother me again. and i’ve gone into space a lot, probably around once a week or so, i’ve explored planets, many of them! i can survive without a suit, too. it might be in my genes or something… i don’t know, it’s a bit weird… but i enjoy it!”

he nods, taking in all the information as he wants to know more, “i am guessing you are able to use more than asteroids, stars and dark matter in fights. is that correct? have you used other… assets from space besides those three?”

you beam, excited to talk about your speciality, both of you have forgotten about your training as you continue to talk about space, “i accidentally got an enemy too close to a supernova, and those are really hot so… it didn’t end up well for them. ooh! and about dark matter, that’s the thing i almost hit you with, i didn’t quite understand what it could do. so i hit a group of enemies with it, they kinda became like pancakes… its like they melted, flipped onto the ground. but its not supposed to be hot, its cold for some reason. that’s just what i’ve learned, and that its supposed to be invisible! but mine is purple for some reason, so maybe its something else?”

he thinks for a moment, only coming up with one logical explanation to your question, “all of us have colors that go with our powers, wind is the only one that makes sense to not have a color. purple and black are commonly associated with space, and cole is already associated with earth, black is his color. i suppose that is why your powers are purple. if i am wrong, i do not know what the reason for the color of your powers is.

you nod, the conversation continues as you and zane ask questions, the other attempting to answer each time. most of it is related to space, changing to the nindroid powers every couple minutes.

whenever you start talking about space, he comes up with more questions because he genuinely wants to know more about space and he loves hearing you talk

also learns more about space during his spare time so you can have detailed conversations

searches everywhere in his database to see all the asteroids or comets that might pass by ninjago one day, in hopes that the two of you can see it together someday

knows as much as you do about space besides the things that haven’t been confirmed by scientists, instead confirmed by you because you’ve seen a lot

“according to my database, a comet will pass by on the fifth. would you like to go to a secluded area with me so we could see it together?”

“oh my gosh, i heard about that too! we should go, i heard multiple of them will pass by!”

tells you a few more facts that you don’t know about space, sometimes going on long rants but it becomes interactive over time

174 notes · View notes

okay-j-hannah · 4 months ago

Text

Part 6: Orange Cream and Peachy Sugar

Teen Wolf : Multishot

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 13.6k

Warnings: series rewrite, season 1 {aka 2011}, slow burn, friends to lovers, Stiles pining, slight NSFW, usual teen wolf levels of violence and gore, heart conditions, talk of scars {good and bad}, dementia, hospital death, abuse

Request: This just came from my own head 😊

A/N: I COULDN'T RESIST 😭 Their chemistry is TOO GOOD

Part 5: Mieczyslaw

Part 6: Orange Cream and Peachy Sugar {You Are Here}

Part 7: The Summer Filter

Scott was frantically searching his bedroom for his phone, arguing with Stiles along the way. “The Argent’s plan was to use Derek to get the Alpha. They’re not gonna kill him.”

Stiles sways in a swivel chair, blatantly not helping. “Alright, so then just let them do what they’re planning, you know? They use Derek to get Peter, problem solved.”

“Not if Peter’s going after Allison to find Derek!”

Frown growing on his face, Stiles picks at the weathered wood of the chair, “You know this wasn’t why I came over.” He waits for a reply that doesn’t come – Scott is under his bed, throwing socks and crumpled papers out of the way. Stiles huffs, “We’ve had a major (Y/N) development… hello? Earth to Scott! (Y/N) slept in my bed last night!”

He grinds his teeth at the lack of a reaction, “And she asked me to take Allison to the formal, which is stupid because we could get Jackson or another lacrosse meathead to do that. I should be taking (Y/N) to the formal!”

Scott bangs his head on the underside of his bed, scrambling to get out, “Shut up!” he hisses.

“Ex-fucking-cuse me?!”

Scott hushes him, “I hear voices in the driveway.” He cocks his head to the window and squints his eyes in concentration.

“Who is it?”

“My mom coming home from work… and she’s been crying,” Scott deflates, sinking in on himself. “And (Y/N)’s with her.”

Stiles wheels the chair towards Scott, looking ridiculous with his legs spread out and paddling against the hardwood floor. “What are they saying?”

“(Y/N)’s trying to cheer her up. She’s asking to see me. She’s worried.” He doesn’t even have the energy to groan his sorrow as he sits on the bed, void of dramatics.

Stiles takes a breath, hearing his friends anxiety without needing the words. “Scott, you can’t protect everyone.”

The beat that follows is short and tense, resignation in Scott as he says, “I have to.”

“Well, we’re going to have to put a pause on that because (Y/N) is probably coming inside any second now.” Stiles straightens his jacket, “And she doesn’t want to be involved in any werewolf stuff, remember?”

“I don’t know how we’re supposed to be friends with her and keep her from all that,” Scott sighs, laying on his back and covering his face with his hands.

“Like it or not, she may be the eventual love of my life, meaning you have to suck it up and deal with it.” Stiles chokes on his breath as you knock on the wall before entering the open door.

You wince at the coughing fit Stiles is in, “Good morning.” Your eyes fall on Scott, “I hear something went down last night,” you fold your arms, “Melissa just told me outside. She’s seriously torn up about it.”

Scott finally is able to groan his frustrations, “Everything is going to shit.”

“Someone’s down in the dumps,” you smile, but stop upon seeing the lack of enthusiasm on Stiles’ face. “Any updates?” You play with your fingers, worry evident in your stance as you look between the boys. “Look, just because I don’t want to be there for the werewolf crap doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear about it afterwards.”

“Derek took Jackson to the Hale House and drew Scott out,” Stiles resigns, “It turned into a giant werewolf battle that ended with Scott being shot by the Argents and Derek going missing.”

You whip your head to Scott, lines of worry in your brow, “Are you okay?”

Scott lifts his shirt in a silent reply – no bullet wounds in his torso. He rolls over onto his feet and grumbles, “Deaton patched me up.”

If it was possible, your brows arch even closer to your hairline, “Deaton like your vet boss Deaton? He knows about all this too?”

“Evidently,” Stiles shrugs his shoulders.

“And Peter showed up to threaten Allison’s safety. He thinks the Argents have Derek and now I have to be on guard 24/7 to make sure she’s safe. Not to mention my mom went out with the maniac last night and you are the number one first target should a werewolf want to kill my pack…” Scott was tangling his fingers in his shaggy hair, “And with not going to the dance I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep her safe.”

You walk to stand in front of him, “Scott,” you say softly, “Noone expects you to be a guard dog for all your friends 24 hours a day. That’s impossible and too high an expectation for yourself. You’re just a sophomore in high school.” You raise your arms to grab Scott’s wrists, easing them from his head, “You shouldn’t have to be worrying about all this – it’s why you’re failing your classes.”

He lets you hold onto his arms between you, “But I have to worry; it’s all my fault. And I’ve screwed myself in the long run because now I’m banned from a whole night where anything could happen to you guys.”

You listen, eyes soft and sad, “I wanted to talk to you about who you think should take Allison to the dance, just so you feel more at ease about it.” You finally let go of his arms, returning to your finger picking. “Any ideas?”

“Jackson,” he says, ignoring the silent cheers coming from Stiles behind you. “He likes her, and they have a decent friendship, even if he won’t admit it.”

You nod, “Sounds good. Do you need me to help in any way?”

“Are you going to the dance with Andrew?” he asks, checking all his boxes.

“I don’t know,” you say, “He hasn’t asked me yet, but I have a feeling he might after our date tomorrow.” The smile on your face says it all and Scott again ignores the despair hitting Stiles – the poor boy banging his head into his crossed arms on the chair.

“Let us know,” Scott says, now fixated on finding a way to protect his mom, “We still have a week until the dance.”

You smile, but your eyes are pinched with empathy, “I’ll try to have as many sleepovers as possible with Allison and Lydia this next week,” you say determinedly, “I know you were thinking about stalking her house at night.”

“Only to keep watch,” he says with a slight upturn of his lips.

“But you need your sleep,” you pat his shoulder, turning around, “Doctor’s orders.” You spy on the last remnants of Stiles’ despair as he wipes his face of emotion. You grimace at the terrible unevenness of his hoodie strings. “And have you figured out someone to ask to the dance?”

You move to pull on his hoodie strings, evening them out as you adjust the fabric around his neck. He gulps and takes a second to respond.

“Not yet,” he gasps out a laugh, “We’ll see.”

“There’s always Lydia,” you smile, flattening the fabric against his wide shoulders. “Or you could just go stag.”

~~~

You drive with Lydia that night. It had been so long since the two of you hung out that it was almost awkward visiting the strip mall together – the same one you went to on your first date with Andrew.

The white fairy lights were just starting to turn on as you enter a beauty shop. Lydia goes right for the latest face serums while you follow along. “Don’t you already have every skincare product alive?”

“You can never have too many,” she says, holding up something pink and shiny.

“Actually, too many products can mess with your skin barrier and…”

Lydia holds up a finger, “That doesn’t stop me from having them sit pretty on my vanity.”

You giggle, running your eyes over the pretty packaging of various bottles. They really knew how to draw your attention. “I need a new lip gloss,” you say, encouraging Lydia’s shopaholic tendencies.

“Let me show you some of my favorites,” she says quickly, purse hanging from the crook of her elbow.

Shopping with Lydia was fun, especially when she made you feel beautiful and offered to buy things for you. She had you holding a few things for herself, but also a couple products for you that she refused to let you buy.

“Have you found someone to go to the formal with?” you ask nonchalantly, checking Lydia’s mood.

“I’ve narrowed it down to a couple lacrosse players. We’ll see who asks me by tomorrow.” She purses her lips and leads the way to the checkout line. “Do you know who Allison is going with?’

You hum your response, “Um… I think Jackson might ask her.”

Lydia takes a deep breath, “Sure. Why not.”

“Are you not okay with that?” you ask quietly, “I’m sure Allison will say no if you want her to.”

“I’m not going to control what that conceited little man wants to do. He was a moron to let me go – clearly I’ve been doing better than him since. You know after every lacrosse practice he just goes home? I haven’t seen him at a single after practice party.”

You pull your card out to pay for your things and she smacks your wrist. “How often does the team meet after practice?”

“Like once or twice a week,” she shrugs, “Jackson never liked to go, though. He doesn’t like doing things for popularity’s sake.”

“I’ve noticed he kind of just does things that serve his own best interests.”

“Exactly,” she says a little exasperatedly, handing you the shopping bag. “He’s so full of himself. I don’t know what’s going on with him.”

You hold open the door as Lydia storms out, shoulders tense at the thought of him. “Hey, crazy thought…” you say with a giggle, “Do you want to go spy on him?”

Lydia stops on the cobblestone sidewalk, giving you a dose of skepticism. “Are you crazy?”

“Come on, we could just drive past his house,” you say, still smiling, “It’s what girls do after a hard breakup.”

Consideration fills her gaze, slowly starting to walk again. The click of her heels builds a rhythm as her confidence grows, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to see what he does on a weeknight. I swear he’s become so boring now.”

You laugh, linking arms with her and going for the car. You think about what Stiles said at the hospital. Jackson was focused on getting the werewolf bite. He was becoming an obsessive recluse in his hunt for power. It was no wonder that he avoided people that wouldn’t help him with his mission.

The drive to the upper class part of town was fast and full of loud music. Lydia looks determined as she turns into the neighborhood, headlights blinking off. You turn down the radio and look upon the grand estate that was the Whittmore house.

It looks renovated in comparison to some of the other houses on the street.

“They sure like a clean and modern look,” you remark at the plain white walls and geometric windows.

Lydia scoffs, parking across the street a little away. “He was always so proud of his money. Like it made him something he’s not.”

You feel a twinge of pity. “The poor thing. His Porsche is here – I bet he’s brooding in his bedroom.”

Pointing a finger, Lydia picks the window to Jackson’s room, “He’s up there; the lights on.”

The pair of you deduce what the reclusive boy might be doing. You were just laughing about anime porn and edibles when a loud voice starts yelling within the house you’re parked in front of. Lydia stops her laughter, looking to her right to peer out your window.

“Someone’s having a fight inside.”

You wince at the persistent yells, “Sounds pretty serious.” There was a crash and a boom. It made you jump being the closer of the two to the house. “Oh my god, what are they doing? Breaking things?”

A breath catches in Lydia’s throat when another bellowing yell seems to shake the windowpanes. “Maybe we should get out of here.”

Your mouth falls open when it sounds like someone slams into the front door. “Maybe we should call someone for help.”

The front door opens and a teenager falls out onto his side. He scrambles to get away from whatever was happening within. He trips down the concrete stairs of the front porch and finally makes it to his feet.

You audibly gasp, recognizing the teenager as Isaac Lahey. “Holy shit, I know him!” You go to open the door and Lydia cries out.

“Wait! We should…”

“Lydia…” you spot something bleeding on the side of Isaac’s face, “He’s hurt and he needs help.” You don’t even let her begin a retort as you leap out of the car at Isaac’s retreating form. “Isaac!”

He flinches, turning around in a frenzied motion. He looks wild with fear, holding his hands out like he was going to stop whatever was after him. In a second he looks even more uneasy, “(Y/N)?”

“Get in the car,” you say, keeping your distance, “We’ll get you out of here for a while.”

He looks at the slightly open front door and the look of desperation on your face. He swallows hard and seems fidgety with adrenaline.

“It’s okay,” you say quietly, taking a step forward. “I can help, Isaac. I work at a hospital – I can fix you up. Let’s go take a break somewhere else. Somewhere safer.”

Isaac looks to be choking on something – whether breath or words, you weren’t sure – but you feel a drop of relief as he follows your lead into the car.

Lydia looks petrified as she faces forward, two hands on the wheel. “This is not how I expected tonight to go.”

You put on your seatbelt and ask her firmly to drive to your house. “Is that okay, Isaac? My dad is at the firehouse and my mom is probably napping on the couch. She always does after having some of her tea.”

“Um…” Isaac wraps his arms around himself, trying to hide just like he did in the computer lab. “Yeah, sure.”

In those few seconds you look over your shoulder, you check the bleeding to the side of his face. The skin must’ve split open from some kind of force. In another second you notice the bruise around his eye.

It was yellow and green with age.

It’s quiet as Lydia tensely drives the car to your house. You try to silently thank her for going along with your plan. You were concocting scenarios in your mind as to why Isaac was so hurt. The yells, the bruises, the crashes and bangs, the fear as he scrambled away.

You think, sadly, of how alone Isaac always was. You realize that there wasn’t a single instance you could think of when he was with anyone. There was just that one time you spoke with him in the computer lab.

What was he actually dealing with at home?

Lydia was curt as she drove away from your house, no doubt brewing a passive aggressive text for you. Isaac, though extremely tall, seems to shrink beside you. He doesn’t look up as he follows your footsteps.

“Is this okay?” you ask gingerly, stopping at the door. “I just want to take you upstairs and have a look at that cut. It’ll be a quick bandage and then we can do whatever you like. We’ll take a break for a while.”

He seems to stew for a few seconds, not daring to look you in the eye. You suddenly wish to see them bright blue with the smile he got from laughter. The one you complimented him on. He finally speaks in a quiet tone, “Yeah, that’s okay.”

“Good,” you say, opening the door and going for the stairs. Peering over the banister you see just as you predicted. Your mother is fast asleep with a book resting open on her chest, and an empty mug of tea on the side table. “I swear that chamomile one she has puts her right to sleep.”

You walk upstairs and to the hallway bathroom. You put the toilet lid down and gesture for him to sit. Under the sink, and next to an array of things that sometimes help you when you feel faint, is a first aid kit.

Isaac looks wary as he holds his hands in his lap. It seems pretty plain what was going on. Something to do with an angry dad at home. You suddenly remember how apprehensive he was when you mentioned asking his dad for permission to go on the spring retreat.

“What was it that split your cheek open?” you ask gently, just a few inches taller than him as he sits.

He looks fearful to admit the truth. “I uh… fell.”

You nod, knowing it was a lie. “Pretty hard fall,” you give him a sad smile as he appears relieved you don’t question further. “I’m just going to clean it and put a butterfly bandage on, okay?”

He swallows again, wringing his hands, “Sure.” He winces as you swab a disinfectant wipe along his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly.

“It’s okay,” is his reply. He continues to be on edge as you pinch the cut closed and place a butterfly bandage on it. You let the silence continue if that is what he wants to do.

You’re throwing away the used wipes now, “Is that what happened to your eye?” you ask, “Another bad fall?”

He looks at you and seems to soften at the understanding in your gaze. It was warm and safe. He takes a deep breath, “Yeah. Another fall.”

“Would you consider yourself pretty clumsy?” you ask vaguely, stating the obvious without saying it out loud.

He catches on pretty quick, “It depends. Some days are better than others.”

You nod again, “Would you like something for the pain? I’ve got some ibuprofen or Tylenol.”

He agrees and follows you down the stairs again to find your mother groggy on the couch.

“Oh, hello sweetie,” she says, rubbing her eyes, “Who’s this?”

“This is Isaac,” you introduce, filling a glass with water. “He lives by Jackson Whittemore.”

Angela smiles though her eyes are droopy, “Nice to meet you, Isaac.” She suddenly squints, “What happened to your face, dear?”

He freezes as you open the medicine cabinet, “Oh, just lacrosse practice.”

He looks grateful, adding quietly, “I uh… got tackled without my helmet.”

“Boys,” Angela says funnily, “Well, hopefully it heals fast.”

Isaac gives a half smile before accepting the medicine from you, “Thank you.”

You’re still gentle as you reply, “You’re very welcome.”

~~~

The next night turns into a better one as you go on your second date with Andrew. He takes you to a Barnes & Noble, buying you a book and a coffee inside. Sitting in the little indoor café, sipping hot drinks and nibbling on pastries, you discuss your favorite genres.

Andrew listens to you with bright eyes, a sweet smile on his face. He takes you back to his house after that, turning on a Disney movie like you agreed on the last date. It only took about twenty minutes before he was pulling your chin towards his.

The night ends with a long-winded makeout and a winter formal proposal.

You were fit to burst with the information the next day, wanting to talk to the girls about the whole thing – but Allison had been off the radar the last couple of days and Lydia was attending after practice parties with the lacrosse team.

No doubt scouting for her next boyfriend (and date to the formal).

The next best option was Stiles. He picks you up and takes you to the nearest gas station for drinks and treats. You grab all your favorites, including peach rings and a large orange creamsicle.

The perfect summer treats to remind you of your favorite season.

Stiles insists on paying for the load, throwing his gummy worms and sodas on the counter. “I’d slip you cash anyway if you tried to pay.” He’s amused by your sweet smile as you open the creamsicle.

He even opens the jeep door and holds all the packages before dumping them on the floor between you.

“You’re going to step on them as you drive,” you cry, reaching down to shove all the snacks towards your feet. You almost lose a line of melting orange from your creamsicle. You lick a long stripe up the cold pop, “Should we just stop at the park?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah sure,” he says, putting the jeep in gear. “You enjoying that popsicle?”

Your lips kiss the tip of the pop, embarrassed when it makes a slurping sound, “Of course, it’s the best desert besides cheesecake.” The park isn’t far from the gas station, Stiles parking in front of the field and playground, turning off the engine. You continue to kiss and lick the creamsicle until orange and white ice cream is coating your lips.

Stiles wonders what it would taste like to kiss it off.

“My mom used to take me to this park when I was little,” you say, settling against the door and kicking your feet onto the seats.

Stiles does the same, one leg bent onto the seats and the other off the edge, able to bounce if needs be. “My mom did too,” he adds, a finger at his temple and thumb at the beginning of his jawline. He considers you, “I can see you just dying to tell me what happened.” He says it with convincing eagerness, but his face is placid as he says it.

He chooses to focus on how you lick the last remnants of ice cream off the wooden stick. It made him squirm within five seconds.

“Well, Andrew did ask me to the winter formal,” you say in hushed tones, “But that isn’t the best part. We kissed again and not just a goodbye on the doorstep kind of kiss – like a on the couch with a movie in the background kind of kiss. It must’ve been like forty-five minutes before his parents got home.”

And before you knew it, you were delving into the details of the entire night, focusing on the exciting kiss at the end. You start to compare the kissing with other boys you’ve been with before, critiquing the skill level and any corresponding downsides.

You open the sugary peach rings, chewing on them as you say, “Overall, I’d give it a solid B or B-.”

“You’re kidding!” Stiles retorts, stretching a gummy worm between his fingers, “You just went off about how great it was.”

“Yeah, but…” you shrug, sticking a peach ring on the tip of your finger like it was a life preserver for it. “… his technique was a little much.”

Stiles bites the head off his gummy worm, “What do you mean?”

“He was kind of abrasive, I had to keep telling him to slow down.” At the look of confusion on Stiles’ face, you keep going – you forget that he’s never kissed anyone before. “From the first kiss it was like he was eating my face. They were very open mouthed, and he kept trying to use tongue. I finally told him to slow down after I felt our teeth knock a couple times.”

Stiles grimaces, “That doesn’t sound fun.”

“I didn’t peg him for being the aggressive kisser,” you shrug, “It might’ve been nice if I wasn’t so surprised – like I could’ve matched his energy a bit better.”

“So, you… wait – what kind of kissing do you like?”

You ponder the question, eating the peach preserver on your finger, “I like it slow at first, you know – like you hold a cheek and draw each other in. Then it should get heavier, like more firm kisses, and you usually start moving at that point. Like… you get closer and I might sit on his lap or something.” You pull apart another peach ring, playing with the sticky gumminess between your fingers, “Then I like it when… oh my god, this was another thing! He never left my mouth.”

Stiles was only able to listen because of (1) his feelings for you and (2) the possibility that he could get some pointers on how to charm you. He had to listen to your previous encounters – a very real knife of white hot pain stuck in his collarbone and digging down his sternum – but he was getting a front row seat to your kissing preferences.

“I thought that’s how kissing works?”

You throw a candy at him, and he chases it down his chest. “Yeah, one type of kissing. But that gets boring after ten minutes. I like it when they start to kiss my neck and chest. How did you think people got hickeys?”

Stiles grumbles, head drifting to not just your ice cream lips, but the warm pulse at your neck, and the beauty marks on your skin below that. He quickly understood the desire to kiss other parts of the body.

“I get it,” he says, taking another sip of his soda. He kept finding his throat going dry, “So start slow, get more intense, and don’t forget to kiss other areas.” He nods to himself, “And the tongue thing?”

You grimace, “It can be nice if they know what they’re doing.” You sigh, slouching against the car door, “Easton from down the street was a heavy tongue guy. Like he saw one couple frenching on tv and decided that was the best way to kiss. It was like… so so wet. My chin was covered in drool by the time he left.”

Stiles was already hot around the collar, skin splotchy with red and pink. But he was starting to get an awful anxious feeling in his stomach, “There are so many things to remember.”

You look endeared as you lean forward, “But when you’re with the right person, it just feels natural. You click like all the puzzle pieces fit between you. You stop thinking about all the details and just go with what feels good.”

He tilts his head, and he looks so nervous and curious, “Was that Adam from San Fransico?”

The breath catches in your throat for a second, “Nearly. It was like a first love. It did feel natural with him, but our puzzle pieces didn’t all fit right.”

Stiles bites at his lips, “I think I had something similar to that. Never to the point where we kissed, but… I kind of obsessed over Lydia for a couple years.”

Your eyes widen, “You’re kidding, our Lydia?”

He nods, embarrassed, “Our puzzle pieces didn’t fit right either. Come to think of it, it didn’t really feel natural either. I guess that’s a pretty crummy first love, huh?” He smiles like he pities himself.

You frown, so entirely endeared by him that you feel a warmth enter your chest at his somber expression. The desire to hold him and show him what it feels like to be natural and wanted came on hard and fast.

“You can always learn to be a good kisser,” you smile, “But yes, having your puzzle pieces all fit makes all the difference in the world.”

“And how did you learn to be a good kisser?” he asks, crumbling his candy wrappers and throwing them in the back.

“That’s a bold assumption,” you laugh, “I never said I was a good kisser.”

He shrugs, playing with the hem of his shirt now, “I can just tell. There’s no way you’re a bad kisser.”

You feel rosy at those words, “I just learned from trial and error. I never had a teacher or anything.”

“I bet you’d be an excellent teacher,” he mumbles. His eyes go wide, clamping his mouth shut, biting his tongue.

You’re giddy as you laugh, “There’s only one way to find out, I guess.” Your eyes trail around his mole-dotted skin, guiding you to his slightly chapped lips and the cupids bow that leads to his perked nose. You love how red and flushed his skin is.

“What are you implying, Miss. Westbrook?” His eyes are bright, but he is deadly still.

“I don’t know,” your hands go to your temples, laughing a bit breathlessly. “Must be a sugar rush, don’t mind me.” There is something hot and heavy filling the space of the jeep, and you suddenly want to open the window to let in some cold air. You feel Stiles’ eyes on you like a deer caught in the headlights.

The silence is deafening as you turn your peachy gaze to his. He is flushed and breathing heavy and…

You consider it.

“Friends can kiss.” You pout adorably as you reason, “Scott and I kissed.”

“Not willingly,” Stiles says in his breathless voice, a small smile curling his chapped lips.

You wave a hand, “It’s purely a teaching moment.”

“Exactly…”

“But we did already make a kissing pact.”

“We can null and void the whole pact. Make it invalid based on… new circumstances.” He looks deep into your eyes before snapping out of it, shaking his head. “Wait… no, I… kissing you (Y/N)…” he was really struggling, fidgeting in his seat. “I want to but… what if I’m a terrible kisser and you’re so nauseated by it that you never want to kiss me again? I don’t wanna – I don’t want to mess it up.”

You try to decipher the speech, fogginess entering your brain as you focus on the shadows dancing across his skin.

“It’s a chance you have to take,” a smile on the tip of your words, “I did say I would help you get your first kiss out of the way.”

He struggles for breath, “Does that mean the offer still stands… to happen right now?”

You inch across the seats, in the middle now and loving how Stiles was having such a visible reaction. He goes rigid, his mouth open and eyes turning desperate. He looks scared and wanting. It looks conflicting… and hot.

“If you really want a lesson right now.” You whisper it like a newfound secret, “Only if you want to.”

“If I want to?” he sounds disbelieving, “Of course I… I mean, I don’t think I could ever say no to you, (Y/N).”

Something blossoms in your chest and it’s warm and addictive, you chase after it – prompting you to get closer, “C’mere,” you say gently and smile at how responsive Stiles is. He moves forward like a puppy searching for a treat.

You raise a hand and pause right before touching his cheek, “You sure?”

“Positive,” he says immediately, nearly leaning into your hovering hand.

You smile, touching his face and winding your hand to under his ear, your thumb in the perfect position to rub along his cheekbone. His eyes flutter close and an inaudible sigh escapes his open mouth. With the tips of your fingers reaching the back of his neck, you pull his face closer to yours. You position him at a slight angle, and he responds to your direction instantly.

He opens his eyes to find your noses nearly touching. You’re both breathing shallow, sharing the air between you, feeling it breeze and dry against your lips. He smells like candy.

And you… you smell like orange cream and peachy sugar.

“Put one hand here,” you direct his hand to your waist. Your heads stay close, gazes flickering between eyes and lips. “And another here,” you put his other to the side of your neck. His hands are so large – his fingers so long – you feel them shake as they engulf the space between your neck and shoulder. His thumb rests on your jawline while the side of his pinky sits on your collarbone. “Do what feels natural,” you whisper. “It’ll come to you.”

One hand shakes on your waist, testing a light pressure while his other hand rests very warm against the side of your neck, afraid to move.

You tilt your head to match his and find his dark honey eyes illuminated by the park streetlamps. They were still slanted in nervous desperation. He didn’t dare move, but you can tell he wants to – wants to badly.

“Close your eyes,” you say quietly, and your lips barely brush against his as you speak.

His lids close instantly – he is so pliable under your hand.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, nervously twitching his fingers against your skin.

You smile, still looking at his eager expression as you brush your nose against his slightly upturned one. And then you slot your mouth on his bottom lip. You hold it there as he tenses, his hand gripping your waist suddenly – the other digging his fingertips in the soft skin of your neck.

You pull away a few inches and say, “There… you’ve had your first kiss.”

His lips search for you, leaning forward until his eyelids fly open, “What? That’s...” his throat bobs and he clenches his teeth so you see the muscle bulge on his jaw. “Any more things you can teach me?”

You lick your lips, giggles falling out of your mouth until he cracks a small smile. You put your forehead to his, smiling wide, “The night’s still young.” You press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, “You need to relax. You’re super tense, mischief. I’m giving you permission to move your hands to whatever feels natural.”

At his quick question of hesitance, you continue, “I would tell you if anything made me uncomfortable. As long as you do too.”

He nods frantically, eager to go again with less nerves this time. Winding a hand to the back of his neck and into the short crop of his hair, you pull him towards your mouth. You kiss him softly but curiously.

You peck and move. Lip lock and switch sides. Press firmly and repeatedly. And slowly the tension falls from Stiles’ shoulders. He grips you with less anxiety and with more curiosity. A hand drags up your side, feeling the dip of your waist up to your ribcage and the line of your bra beneath your shirt. His hand drags down the same path, feeling all the same things before landing on your hips, thumb feeling the edge of your jeans.

His other hand finally relaxes, long fingers winding around your neck until his thumb is resting right on your artery. The pad of his thumb tickling under your jaw. He was being light and soft near your face, only using the pads of his fingers – while his other hand was searching with more pressure.

He was just going down to put his hand on your thigh to squeeze when your breathing hitches. He pulls away instantly, lips pinker than before and eyes wide with worry. His hands are off you in a second and you almost… almost… whine in protest.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Did I do something you didn’t like?”

You take a calming breath, slumping your shoulders, “No, in fact you’re taking my advice beautifully. You relaxed and started exploring – that’s one of the best parts about kissing someone new.” You brush a few strands of hair behind your ear, made loose when Stiles moved his hand to the back of your neck.

“Then why did…”

“I…” it was your turn to be shy, “I liked when you gripped my leg.”

Stiles widens his eyes with wonder now, “I made you make that noise?”

“Like I said, you take advice beautifully… and it works.”

He smiles wide, his turn to laugh at your endearing shyness. “Can we keep going?”

You match his smile and reply by going in for more kisses. This time you cup both his cheeks between your hands and Stiles squeaks in surprise. Both his hands land on your thighs, squeezing them under his larger palms.

You take a sharp intake of breath instead of making a noise, and Stiles fucking smiles against your lips.

Your hands touch his abdomen, and he sucks in taut, probably never having been touched there before. You quickly move up to his chest to find the expanse of his pectorals. Like you expected, Stiles isn’t rippled with worked muscle, but there’s a kind of lanky natural muscle beneath his shirt. You trail your hands up past his collarbones and around his shoulders. With your arms there you can pull him even closer.

He has to move his hands to the small of your back to remove any more space between you. He’s able to press you into him from that position.

Your hands search for his shoulder blades, fingers applying pressure there. His fingers were spreading wide against your lower back, thumbs wrapping around your waist while his fingertips touch your spine.

Your lips still fall into an easy pattern of firmly pressed kisses, switching sides and from top lip to bottom lip. Some are quick and rapid, others are longer and deeply felt. Your noses brush and press into cheeks as you struggle for air at times.

“When can I…” he kisses you, “…move from your mouth?”

You smile, kiss him, smile again. “Whenever it feels like…” you kiss again, “…the right thing to do next.”

He hums deep in his throat, moving his hands up your spine beneath your shoulders. Then he moves his lips. He places two quick kisses along your jaw and lands on your neck, right beneath the bend in your jaw. Your head falls back as he leaves chaste kisses there.

“Is this good?”

You breathe with your chest pressed against his, “You see how my head fell back? That means I like it and I’m giving you more access.”

He makes another low sound and it sends tingles of pleasure down to your core.

You keep a hand on his shoulder, supporting yourself while the other hand scrapes against his head, short hair bristles tickling your palm. You love the sound it pulls out of him.

“Open your mouth a little more,” you say, “Bigger kisses.”

He responds eagerly, excited to see what the change will do to you. His mouth opens more, leaving big, wet kisses under your ear and down your neck. A shiver runs through you, making your shoulders tense a little.

Then your watch starts to blare with an alarm.

Stiles flies off you like he was killing you, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he cries, backing away to assess you. “I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry.”

You steady yourself by gripping the back of the chair, realizing too little too late that your breathlessness was catching up to you. Your heart was working overtime. You lift your free hand, eyes scrunched as it gets harder to force air into your lungs.

“God, shit…” Stiles mumbles, coming closer again. He puts one hand on your chest, over your sternum. And his other hand holds the side of your face, thumb resting at your temple. “You feel my hand? Do you see it moving with your breaths? You need to move your breaths to your belly – your belly should move with breaths, not your chest. Try to make my hand stop moving.”

You look at him with watering eyes, your heart beating erratically in your ears. Stiles was counting the seconds until you start belly breathing – breathing with your diaphragm.

“There you go, that’s better.”

You slump into his neck and his hand wraps to the back of your head, the other to your back.

“That was unexpected,” you say quietly, lips tickling his neck.

He laughs, “I’m guessing you liked the other kisses more than the grabbing the thigh thing?”

“Maybe just a tad bit,” you say, “I told you I liked it beforehand.”

“You did,” he says, pulling you back to get a good look at your face. “You’re okay.”

You smile, “I’m okay.”

He starts to get this giddy look, “We kissed.”

“That we did.”

“Like a lot.”

“It was a lesson in many things.”

He screws up his lips, “And you liked it.”

“You take direction well.”

“I don’t know why guys don’t ask more,” he marvels, “It would make every makeout exactly what you want.”

“You are a rare breed,” you bite your lip and his eyes dart to look. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it.”

His quick answer pulled a laugh out of you. And once you start, you can’t stop. Stiles finds it cute and finds himself laughing too. Just two friends giggling in the car after an impromptu round of kissing. It was warm and light and felt… good.

“I don’t think you need to worry about messing things up with the next girl,” you say, scooting back to your side of the car, “You’ll do just fine.”

His laughing stops abruptly. “The next girl?”

“Yeah…?” you smile with a furrowed brow. “You wanted to learn to be a good kisser, right? To have your first kiss out of the way for any future girls?”

He looks put out, slightly angry, and… defeated. “Right, we had that pact.”

“Right,” you say, wondering what was miscommunicated between you two. “Maybe we should… head home for the night.”

“Yeah,” he says quietly, looking for his keys, “Andrew will probably be sending you a goodnight text any second now.”

You scrunch your brow, lips resting in a frown as he turns the jeep on. You’re quick to notice the steamy windows from your hot and heavy kissing. You would’ve laughed at it if you didn’t feel like something was off in Stiles.

With the air conditioning and heater broken, you roll down the windows and Stiles tells you to stay in the car as he wipes down all others outside.

You watch him with a finger between your teeth. Did you just mess up?

~~~

You spend the next couple days trying to convince yourself that kissing Stiles was simply practice kissing. There wasn’t anything past friendly feelings between you two. It was a no strings attached kind of makeout.

It had to be.

You didn’t have feelings for Stiles. You were going out with Andrew Wickstrom for gods sake.

And again you feel guilty. If you acknowledge any interest in Stiles, then kissing him was a betrayal to Andrew.

But it’s not like you were seriously dating Andrew.

But maybe to him you are.

You hadn’t found a reason to talk to Scott and Stiles outside your friendly conversations at school. Scott didn’t usually text you, but Stiles? If he couldn’t think of a good enough reason to climb the garden trellis, he would text you about the most random things.

Facts about honeybees, star wars memes, updates on a Dateline investigation you were following, werewolf puns, and links to things he thought would make you smile.

Recently? He hasn’t texted you at all. While he wasn’t avoiding you at school, he sure as hell was when you were home.

You are currently in the mall with Lydia and Allison, picking out dresses for the winter formal. All three of you are acting distant and suspicious of each other, which is not a good look for the pretty girls club.

Getting onto an escalator, you question Allison about her frequent absences.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she says, “I just have a lot on my mind.”

You wonder if there’s been a recently discovered secret in her family – maybe like a kidnapped werewolf?

“But Jackson’s taking you to the formal,” you say, “That was nice of him.”

“Yeah, just two recently broken up friends supporting each other by going to the school dance,” Allison says with smiling sarcasm. “And what dumb, roided-up jock did you say yes to?” she asks Lydia.

“Ben Manley,” Lydia sighs, “More of a himbo if you ask me, but he’ll look good in the pictures.” She drags you two towards the prom dress section, quick to pull dresses to try on. She’s four hangers in by the time you find one you like.

“Advice,” you say to Allison, “Do I care if my surgery scars show, or do I go with a collar that climbs up to my neck?” You hold up one deep blue dress that has a lower heart-shaped neckline and another soft purple dress with a small v-neck shape that stops just under the collarbone.

Allison considers for a second, “The blue is more flattering, and you’d look great in that color. I’d say screw whoever doesn’t like you for your scars. They’re the reminder that you’re still alive.”

“Damn, okay,” you smile, “I’m going to try the blue one on.” You fling the purple chiffon dress onto a mannequin display and head for the dressing rooms.

Lydia is there with a small pile of dresses she’s already said no to. You talk to her loudly between the dressing cubicles.

“How’s it looking?”

“The cream chrome one is promising,” she says, “Hey, are we hanging out after this? I’ve got a new foot soaker I want to try. We can do mani pedis before the dance.”

You shimmy into your blue gown, loving how it flairs at your waist in beautiful night sky sparkles. “Yeah, I’d love a sleepover! It’ll be the perfect way to get ready for the dance.” There are two thick straps of the same dark blue fabric that go over your shoulders. The neckline falls lower in a heart shape, outlining the curve of your breasts and revealing your arms and chest.

The scar from your heart defect correction is less raised, less discolored, and less noticeable – but you see it run down the center of your chest. The small, three-inch incision scar from last summer is newer and still red and raised above your heart. And finally the four deep claw marks that dig around your left shoulder and arm – they leave actual divots in your flesh, and you can’t help running a finger over them. They went up and down like tiny rollercoasters.

“Get out here, Westbrook. I want to see if it’s a keeper.”

You take a deep breath, shaking your fingers through your hair to give it more volume. You step into the hallway and find Lydia in a shiny cream colored dress, complete with a black flower in her hair.

“You look amazing,” you say, smiling, “And the dress really shows off your legs. You gotta pair it with a heel.”

“I look amazing?” Lydia gawks, “Look at how flattering that one is on you! It doesn’t flair out like a ballgown, but enough to give you an airy look. And the top is stunning, it fits your figure well.” She doesn’t even mention the scars.

You grin, “I think that settles it. We’ve got our winners.” Lydia goes to change, and you agree to show Allison since she picked the dress for you.

You walk out barefoot, lifting your dress a little to give you easier access to walk faster. You find Allison holding a funny feathered dress to a mirror. It takes you a second to realize that she isn’t alone.

A man is there holding a silver dress to her figure. A man you recognize at a second glance.

It was Peter Hale, one of your long-term patients at the hospital – and the Alpha.

You run over, calling for Allison’s attention, “What do you think?”

She looks grateful to be rescued, “Absolutely beautiful, (Y/N). That’s the one for sure.”

“(Y/N)?” Peter says, “Ah, yes – you look stunning.” He goes to shake your hand, “Peter.”

You hesitate. He’s playing the ‘never-met-you-before’ coverup. “I think I’ve seen you before. Maybe… at the hospital? That’s where I work.”

He has a clever smirk on his face as he retracts his hand, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Somewhere else maybe…” you stare him down. “Like the local video store perhaps.”

“Never been much into movies,” but he does look at your exposed skin to admire his handywork to your shoulder, “You’ve got quite the collection there.” He smiles, “Wearing them like badges of honor.”

“Like a friend said,” you say, chin held high. “They’re a reminder that I’m still alive.”

He still has that subtle smirk, otherwise very rigid and unsettling, “Yes, you are.” He sounds like he would add, ‘not for long’ to the end of that.

The PA system comes on and a fuzzy woman’s voice says, “Attention, shoppers. The owner of a blue Mazda, your car is being towed.”

“What?” Allison says, “That’s my car!” She runs to find the front desk or the car outside.

You’re left with Peter, barefoot and in a pretty starry dress. He looks to you with a plain expression that held sinister notions regardless.

“Well played,” he mutters, “Scott.” You don’t dare look away from him as he talks to the thin air. “Just remember… you can’t be everywhere all the time.” He looks to you with roaming eyes, “It’s been nice seeing you, (Y/N). I’m glad you like my addition to your complexion so much. It makes me think you may want more to add to this masterpiece.”

You hate the way he stays there to gauge your reaction. You stand firm, but your fingers dig into the fabric of your dress.

“You really do look stunning in that dress,” he smiles, “It’d be a shame if it got shredded.” He walks away, leaving you feeling strangely violated and targeted. You feel angry and unsafe.

Scott was at your side in seconds, grabbing your arms, “(Y/N)? Are you okay?”

You take a shaky breath, “He’s a persistent bastard.”

“Yeah, and he’s just threatened to attack you – probably at the dance judging by how he complimented your dress.” He stands straight, listening for Lydia or Allison. “Listen, I heard how you’re having a sleepover tonight. That’d leave me free to…”

“I’ll look after the girls,” you smile, still cold and shaky from the encounter. “You look after your mom and the boys.”

He gives you a look, clearing his throat, “Right, course.”

You squint your brow, “What has Stiles told you?”

Scott scratches at his head, looking anywhere but you, “Nothing much, he’s been quiet these days.”

“Impossible,” you snort, “You may be a super cool teenage werewolf, Scott – but you are a terrible liar.”

He looks defeated, “Look, he told me how you guys kissed and he’s… he’s kind of hung up on it.”

“In what way?”

He bites his lip, looking painfully awkward, “He doesn’t want you thinking it was a mistake. He’s… scared you regret it.” Scott shoves his hands in his pockets, “He realizes it might be weird trying to be friends, and you with Andrew… he’s trying to keep the friendship civil.”

“Civil?” you scoff, “It was a no feelings kiss.”

Scott keeps his mouth shut, nodding his head and backing away, “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

Your mouth is left hanging open as he walks away. Did you feel regret for the kissing? You put one hand on the silken fabric covering your hip, the other hand going to rub away the worry lines in your forehead.

Did you feel guilty because you had been going on dates with Andrew? Had you ever set clear expectations with Andrew before? If he felt like this was taking a direction into serious relationship territory, you would definitely feel guilty.

And Stiles not being completely himself…? Was that really because he was worried you thought the kiss was a mistake? Or was it because of some other unknown reason.

Returning to the dressing rooms, you knew one thing was for sure. You were in desperate need of a girls night.

~~~

In the second story living room of the Martin house, you three spend hours into the night pampering yourselves and raving about whatever came to mind.

When Harry Met Sally plays quietly on the tv in front of you, Allison leaning onto the couch and painting her toes a white color.

“I hope I don’t smudge these before they dry.”

“Here’s a fast drying topcoat you can put on them,” Lydia tosses a small clear polish. She was stuck in the armchair beside the couch with her feet bubbling in the new foot soaker. “I think I’m going to go with black for my toes. Maybe black French tips with my fingernails.” She admires her hands as you place the black polish bottle near her for later use.

You sit between the two, your toes drying an inky blue color while you prepare to paint your nails. You unscrew a pretty sapphire blue. “Can I ask you guys something?”

“Please,” Lydia pouts, leaning back in her chair.

“Do you consider Andrew and I in a serious relationship?”

Allison frowns, focusing on her brush strokes, “Um… maybe? You guys have been dating exclusively, right?”

“Only two dates.”

“No,” Lydia clicks her tongue, “You guys have had two dates and a few noncommittal kisses. I don’t think that means you’re dating seriously.”

Allison dips her brush again, “But if you’re not seeing anyone else then people will think you’re exclusive.”

“But what if I have seen someone else,” you shrug, “I guess that doesn’t matter if Andrew thinks something different.”

There was a splash, “Hold the phone. Are you saying you’ve gone out with someone else recently?”

You pull an indecisive face, “Well, no – just maybe had a… makeout.”

Allison gasps while Lydia giggles, “Oh my god, with who?!”

“I don’t know if I want to talk about it yet.”

“Well, if you’re kissing other boys then you definitely don’t think you’re seriously dating,” Allison shakes her head, “Does Andrew?”

Your shoulders tense as you focus on your nails, “I don’t know. We never had a ‘what are we’ talk. And I never told him I didn’t want anything serious.”

“Ouch,” Allison grimaces, “I think he really likes you.”

Lydia has her arms folded tightly, “Was it Josh Arnett?”

“Gross,” you accuse, “Absolutely not.”

“Tanner Humphries?”

“No, Lydia,” you huff, “What do I tell Andrew?”

Allison stretches her legs out and wiggles her newly painted toes, “You tell him the truth. At least, you tell him you don’t want anything serious.”

“I bet it was Lucas McCrary,” Lydia muses.

“Should I do that before the dance?” you ignore Lydia. “I think it’ll hurt him.”

Allison fishes in the bucket of self-care on the couch cushion, “It’s better than leading him on further.” She extracts an avocado sheet mask.

“Was it at least someone on the lacrosse team?” Lydia interjects.

You give a tired smile, “Because those are the only boys you know?”

“The only boys I care about.”

You finish one hand and ask Allison to help with the other, “What if Andrew decides he doesn’t want to take me to the dance anymore?”

“Then…” Allison takes the sapphire blue from you, “You go stag and hangout with us. I have a suspicion that Jackson isn’t going to be the most enjoyable date.”

“Oh! Please tell me it was Tyler O’Connell – no girl can get her hands on him.”

You laugh and faceplant into the couch, “Tyler O’Connell is gay. Danny has had a little crush on him for months.”

“Huh,” she huffs, “I’m usually good at catching those things.”

“I think I’ll talk to him after school tomorrow,” you rub your worry lines with your free hand. “If anything Allison, you and I could just be each other’s dates.”

“I have a feeling I’ll be abandoned by the end of the night with how Jackson’s been acting,” she sighs, doing a second coat on your nails. “I wouldn’t mind a sweethearts dance with you.”

Lydia is having an existential crisis in the armchair, confined with her feet in the soaker. “Well, it can’t be Cameron Sanchez because he’s going with that Brittany girl in homeroom. It’s not Henry, is it?”

“What’s with the tone?” you giggle, “I like Henry Greenburg even if Coach is a little harsh with him.”

“What about…” she widens her eyes, “What about dork #2?”

Allison freezes with the paintbrush still on your nail. You take a moment to decipher what Lydia just asked.

“Who is…” you clamp your mouth into a thin line.

“Oh my god!” Lydia stands with her feet still in the soaker.

Allison flinches, “Holy shit.” She looks at your nails, “Oh, shit – I’m sorry, (Y/N).” She takes a cotton swab to fix the smudge of blue going down your ring finger. “I just… I mean…”

“What was that dorks name?” Lydia squeals, waving her hands frantically and snapping at Allison. “He’s – god, what’s his name!” She looks ridiculous being rooted to one spot but moving her upper torso like a madwoman, “He’s the little weirdo… the idiot in love!”

Your face is positively blooming red, it’s scorching, as you bury your face in a couch pillow. Allison is quick to correct her mistake to your nails, replying in a much calmer and heartwarming voice. “Stiles Stilinski.”

“Stiles!” Lydia cries in triumph before frowning, “That’s his name?”

“Yes,” you cry out, “Yes, Stiles. And it was another noncommittal kiss. It was absolutely no feelings. I was just helping him out.” In your embarrassment you slap your free hand to cover your mouth, “God, don’t ask me why,” you mumble.

Allison waits for Lydia to ask – like she knew she would.

“Why?” Lydia says, still standing in the foot soaker.

“It doesn’t matter,” you pat at your flaming hot cheeks, “What matters is that I did kiss him, and I need to clarify with Andrew that I’m not looking for a relationship.”

“I knew he was going to grow on you,” Allison mumbles with a sweet smile on her face. She finishes doing your nails and sits back on the couch. “He’s been obsessed with you for months now.”

You shake your head, “Stiles is just… very enthusiastic. He was just excited about getting a kiss.”

“From you,” Allison smirks.

Lydia is jumping out of the foot soaker and toweling her feet, “At least he’s on the lacrosse team.”

You blow out a breath and hope it calms the redness in your face. “It’s not like that. He’s…” you hesitate. “He’s a good friend.”

Allison grimaces, “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

~~~

You wring your hands as you pace at the end of the hall, next to the vending machines. You wait for Andrew to leave his last class, the bell having just rung. It was eating at you thinking of a way to talk to him without hurting his feelings.

But there was no way around it – even if the dance was in two days, you weren’t going to continue playing with Andrew’s feelings.

The tall, dimpled boy comes out and sees you instantly. He smiles and jogs to reach you, excited to see you waiting.

Shit.

“Hey,” he gives you a hug and a kiss to the cheek, “How are you?”

You swallow hard, “I wanted to talk to you about something.” You pick and pull at your fingers, looking up at him with a face that scares him.

He furrows his brow, nodding his head toward the empty ceramics classroom. There weren’t any art classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. “Then let’s go talk.” He guides the way and opens the door for you.

You have a terrible guilty feeling in your stomach. You’ve never had to let someone down before.

Among the desks with spinning wheels dusted with dry clay, you stand in the middle of the room. “Andrew… I wanted to ask what you see between us… for the future.”

He still looks skeptical, but there’s a smile enveloping his face. “Well, I’ve liked how our dates have been so far. And I really like you, (Y/N).” His dimples are out full force, shadowed by the dim lighting. “I want to see where this goes. I think we could get serious. I’m – I’m looking for something serious. But… I want to hear what you have to say first.”

You pinch your fingertips, “Um… well I’m glad we’re having this talk.” You swallow thickly and the smile on Andrew’s face dips. “I… I’m not looking for something serious.”

“Oh,” Andrew says dryly. His face is in full shadow now. “I see, uh… have you always felt that way?”

You nod while you try to find your voice again. The look of hurt on his face was making the guilt in your stomach flare tenfold. “I don’t want a boyfriend in high school.”

He nods slower, looking to the ground. “I wish I knew that sooner.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I should’ve been more clear in the beginning. I thought we were just having some fun.”

“Fun,” he laughs sardonically. “No, I should’ve been more honest with what I was looking for.” His eyes were sad, but he put a smile on his face. “I’m glad you told me.”

You nod, desperate for his words. “I totally understand not wanting to see each other anymore…”

“That would probably be for the best,” he runs a hand through his curly hair.

“And… and we can go separately to the dance,” you say quickly, “I don’t mind.”

He looks at you with slight concern, “I don’t want you to go alone.”

“I have some friends I can go with.”

The room feels smaller, colder than you remember. It was an awful feeling telling someone you don’t like them in that way. You did not like hurting people.

Andrew was nodding to himself in agreement, “Then I hope you have a good time with your friends.”

He was being so kind to you when you felt you didn’t deserve it. It was your fault he was sad. Your fault that he didn’t have a date for the dance. Your fault that his feelings were being hurt now.

A stinging was building behind your eyes. “Thank you. I hope you do find someone to be serious with. You deserve it.” A lump builds in your throat, “You’re a good guy, Andrew.”

He sighs deeply, “I guess I’ll see you later then.”

“Sure,” you say quietly, voice being overtaken by emotion. And you’re left in the dark, cold room. Guilt eating at you and shame whispering terrible things in your ear. You almost wish he had blown up about it; yelled at you for not being completely honest in the beginning. It hurt worse hearing his quiet acceptance of the rejection.

You’re grateful the classroom is abandoned when a tear falls from your eye.

~~~

“Why didn’t you stop by Lydia’s house?” Stiles accuses, arms in the air, “That was prime time to overhear girl talk!”

“I wasn’t going to spy and eavesdrop,” Scott scolds, leading the way out of their last class of the day. “That wouldn’t be right when I still need to keep you and Jackson safe.”

Stiles rubs harshly at his face, silly noises of outrage spilling out, “But how else am I going to hear how (Y/N) feels about the whole jeep-makeout thing?!”

“I don’t know, talk to her?” Scott deadpans.

“Yeah, right,” Stiles scoffs, “I’m such an idiot. How else is she supposed to feel about it? She told me she doesn’t date seriously, and she told you how it happened with no feelings…” A white hot pain stabs his sternum, his heart roiling excruciatingly. “I just… I wanted it to be real.”

Scott sighs, pulling at his too long hair, “Listen, if she is seeing you in a friends with benefits kind of way, I don’t see why you can’t give it a shot.”

For a few moments Stiles dwells on the thought of having all the benefits of a relationship without commitment. It was tempting but... “I want more than that.”

“Wow,” Scott raises his eyebrows, “I’ve never heard such mature words leave your mouth before.”

“Shut up,” Stiles groans, “I just wish she’d talk to me!” He goes for one of the back doors by the vending machines, “She does this thing where she tells me the truth without the whole truth.”

“You mean with her heart?”

Stiles rubs hard at his eyes, “It’s got to be the reason for everything. I tried to get my dad to tell me about it and he pulled the ‘doctor-patient-confidentiality’ thing on me.” He grumbles, letting his backpack drop from his shoulders, “I’ve never… I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on like this.”

Scott sits on a hallway bench, watching his friend wallow in his self-pity and broken heart. “It starts out that way. But it gets easier.”

“What do you know about unrequited love, genius?” Stiles puts his hands on his hips, “You got to be Allison’s boyfriend with the dating and the kissing and the feeling her up…”

“Watch your mouth,” Scott points a finger.

Stiles slumps to the floor and against the stone wall. “And now we’re all targets in a major werewolf operation. How do you think the dance is going to go?”

“I don’t know. I’m still going to be there,” Scott says with a sad smile, “Even if Coach is up my ass.” He stands from the bench, “I should probably find a suit before my shift at the vet clinic.”

“Yeah,” Stiles mumbles, lifting a few fingers in a goodbye, “I’m gonna grab a snack before I go – see you later.”

It took another minute before Stiles could get off the ground. Thoughts of you swirling permanently there. The feel of your warm, soft skin. The pressure of your lips on his. The thrill of hearing you react to the things he was doing. He could still smell the sweet fruity scent of your hair, your lips sticky sweet with sugar.

Had it all been a dream? You sure acted like it with how the whole night was yet to be a topic of conversation.

But the feel of you, as dreamlike as it had been, was grounded in his mind like a chain to a wall. He would never forget how your head fell back, how your fingers went through his hair, how your lips fit so well between his own. Fit like a puzzle piece.

He thought that the kiss would lessen his ache of unrequited love – that he would have at least gotten a taste. But sitting there with the deep ache beating a little stronger in his chest – he knew it was going to be even more painful to be around you and not spout what he was feeling.

Like he told Scott, he wanted more. It was more than the sugar left on your lips. It was the way his dad smiled at the homecooked meal. The way he felt he could mention his mom around you. The fact that you were the first girl he could be alone with and not feel completely at a loss.

He rubs his forehead again, standing as though lead was in his stomach. He felt nauseous. It was making him sick how much he wanted you.

Then an empty classroom door swings open and Andrew Wickstrom walks out, head down and expression bleak.

He walks right out the back doors into the late afternoon light. And the slump in his shoulders made Stiles curious. All thoughts of a snack out of his mind, he stands, abandoning his backpack, and inches toward the empty classroom.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but seeing you standing there, holding yourself as tears fell from your eyes was not it.

The deep ache in his chest pulses like it yearns for you. Having you in his vision was enough to make the roiling in his heart pucker with hope. But the lead in his stomach becomes heavier as he pushes the door open.

“(Y/N)?”

You snap your wet eyes to him, “Stiles, what are you doing here?”

He continues to inch forward, eyes never leaving your face, “I was just going to stop by the vending machines before heading out.” He stops a few feet from you, “What happened?”

You sniff, wiping at your eyes that just continue to stream. “I told Andrew I don’t want anything serious.” Your brow is furrowed into permanent lines, face screwed up like it’ll stop whatever emotion is trying to get out. “And he was pretty hurt by it.”

Stiles takes another step forward, fingers twitching at his sides. Was it okay to touch you? “Andrew doesn’t seem like the type to get real upset by a breakup.”

“He was being so kind to me,” you hiccup as you continue to hold back, “And I was hurting him.”

“But you were being honest, which is better than leading him on,” Stiles says quietly. He’s now just a foot away from you.

“I’ve never had to turn someone away like that,” more tears were cascading down your face, much to your chagrin, “It did not feel good.”

Stiles lifts one of his hands, meaning to touch your shoulder, but you accept it as an invitation for a hug. He almost sighs in relief and wraps his arms around you tightly, keeping you pressed to him like it would staunch the ache in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your strawberry scented hair, “If it had to be with anyone, though – I’m glad that it was Wickstrom. He is a good guy.”

You sigh and it stutters with emotion, “It’s all my fault.” You nuzzle into his shoulder, “If I was braver I would’ve kept it going.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles was holding your waist with one hand and rubbing up and down your spine with the other.

“If I was braver, I’d get into a relationship.” You let the tears run from your cheeks and soak into Stiles’ shirt. “I’m a coward.”

Stiles runs his fingers down your back in a soothing motion, “It’s okay not to be ready for a relationship.”

“That’s not it,” you pull away, wiping at the tears making your skin itch. “I’m sorry, I’m talking nonsense.”

“No! No, wait…” Stiles was getting desperate, “You don’t have to stop there. (Y/N), I want to know what’s wrong. I want to know why. Please don’t brush it off like it’s nothing – I can see how it bothers you.”

You shake your head, trying to swallow past the lump in your throat. “Trust me, this is not the time and place for that conversation.”

Stiles pinches his lips together, finding it more difficult to be patient. “What could be so terrible that you avoid it this badly?”

There’s a heavy silence and you open your mouth like you’re about to say something. He can see it on the tip of your tongue, eyes shiny and cheeks raw. It looks painful for you to say it out loud. He feels instant regret for trying to force it out of you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, walking over to pull you into a quick, but firm, apology hug. “I’m sorry, I just want to help. I hate seeing you like this.”

You gulp, “I… I think I’ll be able to tell you soon. I just… right now with… it’s not the right time.”

He nods quickly, “I get it.” He puts some space between you, watching your face carefully, ready to catch you should your heart give out. He puts a thumb between your brows and wiggles it around like it’ll ease the tension enough to remove the lines of worry.

You melt a little, a smile curling the sides of your mouth, “I’m sorry you walked in on that.”

He shrugs, “I’m not sorry at all.”

You take a deep breath, remembering to fill your belly with it and not your chest. “I guess I’m going to the dance without a date now.”

There’s a leap in his chest and Stiles wonders if his heart was the one about to give out. “I can take you!” he says before you even finish your sentence.

You smile wide this time, “I probably shouldn’t go with another boy after just breaking things off with Andrew. I am going with Allison and Lydia, though.”

His leaping heart crash lands, “Sure, right – that makes sense.” He’s grateful for the dimly lit classroom keeping his embarrassment blush in shadow. “I’ll still be there though, for a dance or two.”

“I’d like that,” you grin, eyes bright but no longer tear-filled. “Could I get a ride?”

“Always.”

~~~

Melissa trades patient files with you at the newly refurbished nurses station. You exchange some words of note about certain patients on the floor. She reminds you to drink more water and you remind her to take a break.

She smiles at your avoidance, “How are the dance preparations going?”

You show her the shiny blue nail polish on your fingers.

She squeals and admires them, “Ah, I miss dances. And the dress?”

“Like starlight,” you breathe, taking a twirl around the hall, “But with flats because I am not venturing into battle in four-inch heels.”

Melissa sighs, “Dances are so much more fun with girls. Scott refuses to show me his suit and he’s never home anymore.” She leans against the counter, “I hope he’s okay.”

You give a thin smile, “He’s doing his best. With Allison and lacrosse and his grades… he’s doing his best. Trying to do more than that actually.”

“He expects a lot of himself,” Melissa nods. “I’m glad he has friends like you with him.” She checks her watch when she asks, “And the Andrew thing?”

“Over,” you shrug, a day after the breakup and still a little tender. “We wanted different things, and I thought it best not to drag it out.”

“Man, better than just ghosting him,” she says with a bitter tone, “How mature of you.”

You remember the terrible date she went on with Peter Hale. Jackass. “It was the right thing to do. And I’ll just save a few dances for my friends. It’ll still be a nice night.” You sit in a swivel chair, arms folded, “There’s no way I’m going to miss my chance to go to a school dance.”

Melissa gives you a soft, sad smile, “Well, kiddo – I’m off to make my rounds. Mr. Hendrickson has been calling my button for the last ten minutes. I swear I’m going to take his tv away if he keeps asking me how to change the channels.”

You laugh, saluting her off, and returning to the rest of your charting. You were just marking when you administered medications when a soft tap to your counter caught your attention.

Standing there was Scott and Stiles.

“Hello,” you say cheerfully, “How are my boys?”

Both lift their hands to reveal brown paper bags. Scott grins, “We might’ve brought you guys dinner?”

“Greasy takeout,” Stiles corrects, “But edible enough for dinner.”

You sigh, heart warmed, “Well, your mom just went into room 18 down the hall,” you point, “But we can take our break when she gets back.”

“No, I’ll wait for her,” Scott says quickly, already down the hall, “We’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Stiles shrugs at your look of suspicion, “Where do you usually eat?”

You lead Stiles from the elevators to the hospital cafeteria. There you find a round table by the windows to sit. It was dark outside with the perfect view of the moon over the mountains. Stiles seems a little uncomfortable as he follows you through the building.

He keeps looking behind his shoulder and peering into patient rooms with big eyes.

“Burgers and fries?” you ask hopefully.

Stiles lays the meal out on grease stained napkins, “Bon Appetit.”

You lean into him, “Thank you, I wasn’t planning on dinner tonight.” You start with your fries as he looks at you with contempt.

“Because that’s a great idea with your prone to fainting condition.”

“Why did you guys really stop by?” you always start with your fries, saving the main meal for last. You focus on them as Stiles thinks of something to say, eating his hamburger like it was his first meal in days.

He gives a funny half shrug, “Scott needed to check on his mom with his whole ‘patrolling-the-pack’ schedule. He asked if I wanted to come, and we came up with the excuse of getting us all dinner.”

“Brilliant,” you say, finding that the drink he brought was filled with your favorite soda. “Any news from the Alpha?”

“Not since you guys went dress shopping,” he wipes at his mouth with his sleeve. “Which, by the way, I would’ve loved to come to.”

“No you wouldn’t of,” you laugh, “Helping girls carry their dresses and waiting forever to critique every outfit with the same indifferent words… sounds terribly boring.”

He takes a deep breath as he downs his drink. “Sounds like fun. Helping you pick out a dress? I’d run out the red carpet so you could practice your model walk. We’d play montage music with different colored lights. We can make trying on dresses fun.”

“I don’t know how to model walk,” you giggle.

He nods in mock seriousness, “You just have to look like you’re about to sneeze and the thing you’re wearing is giving you a massive wedgie.” He moves his shoulders around in a pretend walking motion, his face slightly pinched like his nose was itching.

You were laughing by the time he coached you into making the same ridiculous face. Then he flinched when a group of resident doctors walked in loudly, ready for their dinner. He looks uncomfortable again, picking at his fries half-heartedly.

You consider him for a minute, “You don’t like hospitals, do you?”

He huffs a laugh, “What gave you that idea?”

“You’re being more twitchy than usual.”

He eyes you, “I’ve been here plenty of times, you haven’t made that observation before.”

“You’re really thinking about it today,” you press, “Is something wrong?”

He ticks his jaw, playing with his fries. “I used to eat in here a lot… when my mom was here.”

Your chest goes tight. Of course it has something to do with his mom, “Stiles, I’m…”

“My dad used to leave me here when he went to work,” he keeps going, “The nurses were all my friends, and I ate dinner in the cafeteria all the time. They would save an extra chocolate pudding for me sometimes.” He smiles in painful fondness, “I was alone when… when she…”

He couldn’t say it.

You scooch closer to him, letting him talk without you interrogating him. He looks at your eager expression with a soft smile, “She had frontotemporal dementia.” He leans closer to you subconsciously, enjoying the security he felt near you.

“It started with little things like she couldn’t pick up her keys and she wouldn’t sleep at night. Then she couldn’t function at her job, so she stayed home. Then she started to get… scary.” He takes a deep swallow, “She started seeing things – hallucinations – and became paranoid sometimes. We had to hospitalize her soon after that.”

You knew the symptoms of frontotemporal dementia. Some of the long-term patients at the hospital had dementia. But you let him continue to talk without your input. You could guess that he didn’t talk about his mom very often, especially her death.

You put a hand on his arm as silent support.

He takes a breath at your touch, “When I’d visit, I didn’t know if I’d see my mom or the patient dealing with dementia.” His eyes look a little glassy as he continues, “It was hard spending so much time here. I knew she wasn’t going to come home. And then one night when my dad was on call… it was just me at her bedside.”

You rub your thumb into his forearm, “How old were you?”

“Eight,” he says, sniffling as the emotion burns his throat. “Seeing her deteriorate that fast… it was awful.” His lip trembles, “That was my mom, you know?”

You move your arm around his back, resting your head on his shoulder. It was a hug you could give while sitting at a table. “I know.” You squeeze him tight, “It must’ve been horrible.”

His breathing was shaky, “It was,” he rubs roughly at his eyes, “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Not even Derek Hale.”

“What about Mr. Harris?”

He makes a considering face, a smile curling his lips. “Maybe.”

You pinch him, “That’s terrible.” You trail your fingers across his back, looking for more tears, “Why tell me?”

He watches you wipe away a tear before it reaches his chin, “Because I wanted you to know.” He shrugs, eyes a little redder, “I like you, and I trust you.”

You watch him with rosy cheeks. An immense feeling of pride was swelling in your chest. Stiles chose you, out of dozens of people, to talk about the death of his mom. A horribly sensitive subject for him. He had gone out of his way to be in an environment that reminded him of uncomfortable things to bring you dinner. He opened up to you and gave you a large part of his heart.

He was doing it partially to tell you things he wanted you to know – things you needed to know to be close to him – but also to partially tell you that it was okay to open up about horribly sensitive stuff.

He wanted to hear your story too.

But how could you now? You feel a pang in your chest. How could you explain to Stiles that you would reach a similar end before too long. An end like his moms.

~~~

Taglist: @assassinsasha23 @tasty-book-fans @lovelybaka @the-fandom-queen @runs-with-sciss0rs @iamaslytherin0 @n3muru @bethsvrse @taylorbrooke-0912 @iloveyou2mia @everrrsincenewyork @gisellesprettylies @dullypully @taylordaughter @greenoliveslover

#stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf #okayjhannah #fandomfantasia

182 notes · View notes

thefourthwifeoftengenuzui · 7 months ago

Note

some headcanons about dating timeskip!Kenma please!!

thank you Anon, I would absolutely love to share some stuff about this beautiful boy~ As always, feel free to send any other requests you got, I’ll be more than happy to share my thoughts~

status: unedited

word count: 1.4k (damn that’s the most I’ve written in a hot minute)

warnings: cursing, pure fluff, mentions of weed, crackfick a little suggestive? Idk man I’m sleepy

wrote this instead of studying for my physics final exam😋

🩵Aged Up Kenma Headcannons🩵~

Ok first off we gotta get the basic facts down. This boy may be sweet as sugar, but he’s also one lazy mother fucker. And For the most part, I’d say that he really doesn’t change much from when he was a kid. The most I can say about him, is he definitely is a lot more confident being in front of people, ( I mean that’s kinda his job now, but bear with me) and has become less awkward around people. Very different from when he first met Hinata, he can actually hold a good and relaxed conversation now. That’s not to say he isn’t introverted anymore, (he definitely still would rather be at home) but he is more confident in himself to be able to actually be able to engage with someone. Is he gonna go out of his way to talk to someone? Hell no, but he can at least handle being approached without overthinking and triggering his anxiety.

This definitely also translates to his relationship with you. You still will have be the one who makes the first move, or at least initiating conversations.

But one things for sure, once he likes you, he loves you. Like wanting to wife you up regardless of gender. And I feel like, (later on in the relationship ofc) if you ever had kids, he would be the best most present dad ever. Like he wouldn’t be a house husband, (his YouTube gig is completely paying for your mortgage) but because the majority of what he does has him, stream for like an hour, go on call for a few minutes, or just edit his videos for a bit, he would be able to make a lot of time for any and all children he has. But that’s way later on in the relationship.

Once he’s comfortable in the relationship with you, I can definitely see him involving you in his content. Not like a whole boyfriend and girlfriend couples channel, but like a once a year “reacting to fucked up shit with my girl” type beat.

And since we’re on the subject of content, <<<<<<<<

Like imagine having the most shitty day possible and you come home to your boyfriend streaming COD or some shit. You just face-plant into the bed next to him and he snaps his head towards you.

”shit baby you good?” he asks as he raises an eyebrow, looking at you concerned as you mumble angrily. He recognizes the nonverbal gestures and just pats his lap with a quick, “c’mere baby,” and hugs you, letting you muzzle your face into his neck away from the camera, and wrapping a fluffy blanket around you, before he kisses you head and say, “gimme ten more minutes to finish this and we’ll order some takeout k?”. He gives you the most sincere and adorable smile ever sending butterflies not only to you, but all his fans watching, as he smiles and goes back to playing like nothing happened, the chat going wilddddddd. (My gay ass heart go brrrrrr)

I know for a fact that somewhere out there in haikyuu internet, there is a corny ass edit of y’all doing that shit, trust. (I need to keep my slang outta here man 😭)

ok, getting off the sidetrack, kenma is still like rlly introverted. Like his ideal date is just sitting at home watching some cheesy studio ghibi movie (His favorite is the boy and the heron, fight me on that, it’s the hill I’m willing to die on.)

If not some cute Disney movie, I also feel like he’d be into like some mystery or like not quite horoscope stuff. Like I feel like he would really be into Wednesday. If he had to watch an actual horror movie, I feel like I’d be like some of the older ones like scream or Nightmare on elm street type shit.

Speaking of scream, I feel like at least once yall would have to do the ghostface couples costume thing. Like I feel like this would just suit him so well. Idk my brains just going feral on it right now. (This was supposed to have a link attached, but it kept fuckin up and I’m to lazy to deal with it so just look it up, the couples version, it’s hot af)

aside from the specific stuff that I know people hate reading, the next thing you gotta know about this version of kenma is he is a TEASE. Like not even like an NSFW type tease. Just like a “he’s an ass but I love him.” Like when he was younger I feel like he was too nervous and flustered to point that kinda stuff out. But now? Man is a menace and a half. The type of dude to be like, “I have no idea how your ass fits in those shorts. Oh no, you’re not taken them off now~” or like the most basic annoying shit like bro fuck off and let me cuddle you in peace without being annoying. Like, he’d be like, “ damn someone’s neady today~ you tryna fuck me in front of everyone?” Like bro stfu I’m just tryna cuddle. Either that or he’d call you clingy for returning the affection he initiated. Like bro, quit being a lil bitch and let me be happy you butt muffin.

Man is putting full pussy into annoying you. He’s the type of guy to call you the most vile, disgusting, cringe ass nicknames, specifically to piss you off. You need him to take out the trash? “Yes my Pookie Wookie McSmoo Moo bear~” *gags while writing this* You’re yelling at him for some stupid thing, “I sorry my sugar booger~.”

Yeah this part is real OOC, and I was gonna write more but I physically cannot bring myself to do it so anyway, his other 3 favorite things to annoy you by calling you is, Cutesie Poopsie, Shnookums, and side piece #2. (Bro I just gave myself the ick)

Beige flags aside, he does have some green ones . For example, he’s a fabulous listener. Like, you just wanna rant and yell about your day? C’mere babes, he already got fluffy blankets, stuffies, and fluffy socks at the ready. You just wanna cry in piece? Looks like his lap has a vacant spot, he can play games and scratch your head at the same time. #bbgtreatment (regardless of gender. If tumblr has taught me anything it’s that nobody is to thug to be bbg, can I get an amen?🙏 )

The more comfortable he is with you, the more he will make jokes, but in the most monotone voice ever. Like you could be ranting to your bestie on the phone like, “I forgot my umbrella at work… yeah I’m soaked,” and you just hear him from his corner calmly shouting “that’s what she said,” not even turning away from his game, as if it was natural to him. It’s always so easy to talk with him, unless it’s about his problems, but we ain’t gon talk about that rn, I’m feeling too fluffy.

There is one thing that I absolutely have to address for this man though. The average female height in my country is 5’4. And Kenma is only 5’6. Chances are, he’s not gonna be towering over you or nothing. Especially if you a tall specimen like me. (AFAB but gender is a construct yolo on those hoes). So chances are, this mf is for a fact, stealing your clothes. No article of clothing is safe. Hoodie? Sorry boo he got cold streaming. T-shirt? None of his were clean. Miniskirt? Onlyfans- He was pulling a Gojo sorry 😋

Tbh I don’t see him ever really having a wedding, or really ever getting married. Too much social interaction and attention on him. Gross. The most I can see him doing is, one night while y’all smoking pot or something, being like “yo wanna get married?” He wants to be with you forever without the government getting involved, but hey, times are tough, and marriage helps with tax returns. So y’all just kinda go to the courthouse, get it done, then fly off to some place to elope.

in all Kenma is just a great loyal guy, who is the biggest pain in your ass, but the biggest cutie patootie this side of the nuthouse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ hope y’all enjoyed, this was so fun to write, if you liked this and want more content like this make sure to request and check out my other stuff. Love y’all bastards, Thots and Enby Hots🩵

227 notes · View notes

kurishiri · 4 months ago

Text

03 . . . the past records ˗ˏˋ🍎🪞´ˎ˗

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— cw: none.

Liam: Hearing Al say they played this game to decide whether he stayed by Lord Elbie’s side or died... it makes me wonder, does he really hate being by his side that much?

Roger: Haha, it’s nothing that serious. If he really hated staying by his side that much, he wouldn’t have just left it to something like luck. He would’ve taken it in his own hands.

Liam: Right? That’s what I was thinking.

Roger: He says stuff like ‘it’s a game of luck,’ but really he just wants a cover up.

Liam: So... if he doesn’t have an excuse, he can’t be together with him? But why?

Roger: ......Who knows.

Liam: Hmm... I feel like despite hearing the whole story, I still don’t know what’s the answer to that question that started it all.

L: Why is Al with Lord Elbie?

Roger: Word’s that when they met, they were both going through something that made it hard for them to be apart from each other.

R: And anything more about that is beyond me.

Liam: Hm...

L: You see, Al has been helping me satisfy my curiosity by indulging in my whims...

L: ...but he would really have gone and done something dangerous, if I asked for it, I feel like.

L: Like, he puts his life on the line just for a game of luck... so much so, I wouldn’t be surprised if we found his corpse tomorrow... I guess.

L: Oh, maybe he also has the ‘Cheshire Cat’s Curse’ like me?

Roger: ...If he did have such a Curse, maybe he would be able to be a part of others’ lives without feeling the need to keep up a pretense.

—— Perspective shift ——

Today’s mission for Crown was to pass judgment on the person who’s been illicitly making drugs, and to gather proof of their crime.

William and Harrison were to pass judgment,

while Alfons and Elbert were assigned to gather proof.

In a certain warehouse containing imported goods,

Alfons and Elbert were able to find the raw materials used to make that dangerous drug hidden within the very general spices.

They were carrying out their mission without a hitch——

when suddenly, several bullets shot through the air, piercing holes through the burlap bags piled high in a heap,

until the contents of the bags spilled on top of the two men.

Elbert: There’s an eyewitness... we have to go after them.

Alfons: Do you really have the luxury to say that when we’re in this state?

The two of them were buried in so much spice from the waist down, it was hard to laugh it off as any joke.

And Alfons let out a sigh as though he were fed up.

Alfons: This is William and Harry we’re talking about?

A: They won’t let a single one go alive, so it should be fine.

A: Anyhow, more importantly, I can’t help but feel an inkling that I’ve run into this smell before—

Elbert: ...! Al, over there, there are cats.

They had probably been hiding somewhere in the warehouse, but some stray cats had shown themselves, gathering around them.

Alfons: Ah, yes, I remember that spice’s scent now.

Elbert: ...?

Alfons: It’s cat powder.

While they were having an out-of-tune conversation, the two became surrounded by cats.

Alfons: Come now, don’t cozy up on your own quite yet. Why don’t you help us out?

A: I hope you know the reason you guys can indulge yourselves in cat powder is because of us?

A cat drew closer to Alfons as he petted it around its neck.

The cat purred in response, snuggling its body up to his palm.

Elbert: ...Hehe.

Alfons: Whatever is the matter, suddenly laughing like that? Don’t tell me you are on a cat powder high as well?

Elbert: It’s not that. It’s just... I was remembering how you dote on cats, even when you act more like one than the cats themselves.

Alfons: I’m afraid you have me ever so slightly lost with that train of thought...

Elbert: I mean, when I think you saved that cat who had trouble getting down,

E: you would push it away when it got too close.

E: And when I think you have petted it... you pretend you don’t know them...

E: And when they’re going through a hard time, you are there by their side... but then, when they’re not going through such times, you try your best to distance yourself.

Alfons: ...You are quite an observant one, aren’t you. So? Would you mind telling me why you look so happy then?

Elbert: Because... I think that side of you is wonderful, Al.

Alfons: ......Is this your attempt to woo me?

Elbert: ...? No, I didn’t mean to woo you.

Alfons: Yes, I knew that from the start, so please don’t take my words so earnestly.

A: ...Elbie, how would you like to play a little game with me?

Elbert: Game...?

Alfons pulled out a coin from his pocket, flipping it in the air with his finger.

Then, when the coin fell atop the back of his hand, he covered it with the other.

Elbert: I guess, I’ll bet tails then.

Alfons: And that leaves me with heads.

A: If it is tails, as you say, then I win. Otherwise, it’s yours.

Elbert: So, the one who guessed wrong wins... somehow, it feels like it should be the opposite.

Alfons: Well, you can think of it as playing with a ‘mirror’ that is myself. And so, that which is incorrect becomes the correct choice, and conversely, the correct choice becomes incorrect.

Elbert: What will you do if you win?

Alfons: Let’s see now...

A: I suppose, if I win, I will go on a journey to the edge of the world.

On the back of Alfons’ hand, the coin——showed heads.

Alfons: And once again, it is my loss.

A: Truly, when it comes to making the wrong choices, there is no one who can hold a candle to you.

A: ...I realize this is sorely belated, but is it alright if I ask you one question?

Elbert: ...What is it?

Alfons: The day we first met, when I suddenly appeared before you, what made you want to take me into the manor?

Elbert: ......

← prev next →

full masterlist 🍎🪞

60 notes · View notes

signanothername · 3 months ago

Note

I’m wondering if you think Killer would try using Color’s soul as an experiment because of Color having like 6 souls stuck inside him and stuff and then the interest of Killers side of wanting to understand more of souls and their codes, maybe using Color as an experiment or something sometimes for funsies, idk, thought it’d be nice to talk about. (maybe with or without permission from Color)

Oooooh nice point

Tho it also raises the question, does Color have a soul left to begin with? Cause he was already on the verge of death before absorbing the 6 souls and basically getting thrown to the void cause of it, at this point he’s technically dead, it’s only the six souls that keep him truly “alive” in a sense, and it’s shown in how if he uses too much power that it’ll basically actually kill him, at least (i honestly don’t remember if his soul was ever truly talked about in canon, so if you guys know do let me know, i definitely need a bit of a refresher and deep dive into Othertale’s lore again)

But that’s a topic for another time that i’m gonna explore hopefully cause the contrast between a technically souless Color who is extremely emotional and feels very deeply and Killer with a soul that isn’t doing its supposed job and not being able to feel anything at all is really fun >:)

So we’re just gonna assume that Color has a soul of his own for the sake of this ask shhzhshhs (not that it would differ the answer I have much)

Ok so i feel like it really just depends on the stage Killer’s in and at which timeline we talking, like are we talking Killer still works under Nightmare or are we talking he was saved and is now with Color?

If he’s still under Nightmare, then i feel like Stage 2 Killer would try to get his hands on it without permission, and while i believe Killer kills anyone he wants the soul of to take their soul to do as he pleases with it, i feel like he’d make the exception for Color to keep him alive if he did get his hands on it, (I think of a stage 2 Killer who’s still under Nightmare as a bit possessive of Color in the sense that Color is an off limits personal matter in his life) which is arguably worse considering Color would have to feel and endure Killer poking at his soul, and we can talk about how dark that can get but i’ll spare you the details

While if we’re talking about stage 2 while he’s now living with Color, he’d still definitely try to get his hands on it, whether with or without Color’s permission is something I feel really depends on Killer, like i can see Killer sometimes trying to get his hands on it without Color’s permission, other times he’d simply ask, cause at that point Killer’s trying to learn how to be better, considering Killer himself had endured the invasive way Nightmare always touches his soul and influences it by his magic, so i think Color’s polite way of actually asking for permission from Killer for his soul would definitely rub off on him

which I’d like to believe Color would most likely refuse to give Killer his soul cause the thought of his soul being experimented on isn’t really comfortable, but I can see Color actually giving Killer the permission to study his soul by simple observation rather than actual experimentation

Stage 1 would absolutely refuse regardless of the timeline, even when curious, cause that’s his best friend y’know?

But regardless, I can see Killer and Color fight over this very reason of Killer’s curiosity for souls, but here’s a very interesting question, can Killer actually get his hands on Color’s soul without his permission? When Color is just a lot stronger than Killer in every aspect?

Killer will simply never win a fight again Color, Color might be hesitant to fight and is generally trying to be careful with his powers, but he still holds the power to crush Killer like he’s nothing, so if anything, Killer will only be able to get his hand on Color’s soul if he outsmarts him >:)

#anothers ask #something new #othertale #killer sans #color sans

53 notes · View notes

amyispxnk · 4 months ago

Text

My Kind of Woman

Chapter 5: Collide

Series Masterlist || Previous Chapter

Series summary - Your song captivates Joel the second he hears you that night in Jackson, but he struggles to work up the courage to confess his feelings. With some (very heavy) encouragement from Ellie and Tommy, you two get closer and closer until he finally thinks he’s ready.

Chapter summary - Joel makes up for the time he stood you up.

A/N: just wanted to say a big thank you for the support on this series so far! love u all<3

also im so excited for this chapter because they’re finally starting to (officially) like eachother guysss ahh

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: fluff, a few dirty thoughts (because what is this fic without them), slight language

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

Also this chapter has a song..!

The next week, you have another lighter schedule - two patrols and three nights at the Tipsy Bison. Unfortunately though, your first patrol is on Monday morning at the ass-crack of dawn, and Joel can definitely tell that you’re not a morning person from it.

“So today we’re heading out to-” he begins, and you cut him off.

“I know, Joel.” You sigh heavily, getting annoyed just from that in your grumpy state. He doesn’t take it personally though, quickly deducing what’s wrong.

“Not a morning person, I take it?” He chuckles, and you just nod, taking another large swig of your coffee before screwing the lid back on and going over to May, your mare, to prep her for the patrol.

He does the same, keeping conversation light and just asking about your supplies and whatnot, still receiving a little attitude from you despite his efforts, before the two of you exit Jackson’s gates once more.

After almost an hour of riding, the sun is close to being fully risen and you find yourself watching it with awe. You never really took the time to watch the sun rise, but it really was beautiful, especially out here with no distractions or pollution to ruin the view of it.

“It’s so pretty.” You find yourself commenting, and Joel looks over at you, seeing the view which you’re talking about.

“I guess. I can think of something prettier, though.” He murmurs, staring directly at you. You turn to face him and realise what he’s done, smiling shyly before averting your gaze once more.

“So, where’s that music store you were talking about last time?” You ask.

“It ain’t this way, so I don’t think we could go today. We could try go on Thursday’s patrol, though. ‘S just a little ways past that town we cleared.” Joel replies, to which you nod.

“Guess we’ll go then.”

That morning’s patrol is fairly quick and quiet, a few straggling runners dotted around the outlook you two end up at, and nothing more.

You get back to Jackson just before lunchtime and return your horses and weapons. You’re tending to May, giving her a treat and combing her mane, when Joel enters the stables.

“Hey.” He says, voice gruff and nervous, almost.

“Hey,” you smile, turning to face him, “what’s up?”

“Nothin’, just.. It’s lunchtime.”

You nod slowly, a little confused. He picks up on this and sighs.

“Wanted to ask if you.. if you wanted to come over for lunch. Ellie’ll be there too… Thought it might be nice.” He mumbles, not able to meet your eye as he braces himself for rejection.

“That sounds great! I’d have to get changed and stuff, so I could be over in maybe.. Half an hour?” You say, smile wider now, and he finally looks back up at you, trying to hide his surprise.

“Yeah- yeah. That sounds good. See you then.” He says, giving you a wry smile before leaving you in the stables, hurrying back home to get everything ready for you. It was a last minute decision, and he was honestly already regretting it, but he just wanted to spend more time with you. Even though the two of you had just spent almost 4 hours together, he needed more.

Ellie’s surprised to see him in such a rush, and to see him in the kitchen actually cooking something for once.

“Dude.. what are you doing?” She laughs as she watches him pull out a pot and almost throw open the fridge door.

“I invited her over for lunch. Dunno what I was thinking.” He grumbles, squeezing his eyes together and pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation when Ellie cheers and whoops excessively.

“You finally did it! Oh my god. It only took you 10 years.” She smirks, sitting at the island and watching him grab the most random ingredients, as if they’ll make something good when he puts them together. Her brows furrow before pity floods her system, and she gets up with a deep sigh.

“Okay, what are you actually doing..?” She says, rounding the island and coming to his side.

“I don’t.. I don’t know,” he sighs, “this is gonna be shit.”

“Not if I can help it.” She says, determined to not let this fail. “Just.. gimme 20 minutes and I can make something good.”

“You want any help, or-”

“No! You have to go get ready for your date!” She says abruptly, cutting him off and grinning slyly when he starts going red at her words.

“It’s not a date.. She’s just coming over for lunch. You’re gonna be here anyway…” He mutters, turning and going upstairs to get ready nonetheless.

“You keep telling yourself that, old man.” She smirks, getting herself busy with the cooking.

20 minutes later, Joel comes downstairs freshly shaved and changed into some better clothes than the ones he wore for patrol.

Ellie lets out a low whistle when she sees him. “Wowwww, you actually look half-decent for once. Well done.” She teases, to which he just rolls his eyes.

“What’d you make? Actually looks half-decent.” He smirks as he comes to see what Ellie’s cooked up.

“I made this spaghetti for us, and it looks more than decent to me, thank you very much.”

–

Just breathe.

You keep repeating that in your mind as you walk down the street to Joel’s home. Overthinking, as always, but trying to quell your thoughts when you reach his front porch and make your way up the steps. You clench your fists, taking a deep breath before raising your hand and knocking on the door. It’s opened surprisingly quickly by a very eager Ellie, ushering you inside and informing you that Joel’s just finishing up in the kitchen. You start up some conversation with Ellie as the two of you sit at the table, waiting for Joel. He approaches with the food and your breath catches in your throat when you see him.

He looks fucking beautiful.

He’s wearing a different shirt, one you’ve never seen him in before. It’s a deep green, with the sleeves rolled up just past his forearms and exposing even more skin which you try your hardest not to salivate over, and it’s tucked into his jeans. The jeans are criminally tight on him and you quickly avert your gaze when you catch yourself almost eyeing his bulge, finally meeting his eyes.

“Joel. Hi.” You breathe, and he gives you an equally flustered greeting.

You had just changed into one of your better sweaters and some jeans. Both of them hugged your body perfectly, showing off your curves. The sweater was off-shoulder so it showed off your collarbones as well.

You guessed the outfit was a good choice when Joel’s brain visibly short-circuits at the sight of you, and he blinks a few times before he even realises you’ve said something to him, greeting you back and setting the food down.

“Ohh, damn it. You know what I just remembered? Dina actually wanted to see me like… now. So I guess I’m gonna have to leave you guys here. So sorry.” Ellie smirks, clearly not guilty in the slightest as she gets up from the table and makes her way to the front door.

“Have a nice lunch, you two.”

Joel looks like a deer in headlights, still standing by the table as Ellie leaves, the door swinging shut and leaving the two of you in silence.

“I’m gonna just.. grab some forks.” He mumbles, and you nod, watching him leave and trying not to focus on how good his ass looks in those jeans.

After giving himself a silent pep talk in the kitchen, he returns with the forks and sits across from you at the table.

At first, the conversation is a little slow. Mundane topics like what else have you been up to and the weather’s been looking good recently but eventually, you get into a flow, moving from topic to topic, laughing together and having a really good time.

“This has been great, Joel. Thank you.” You say after helping him clean everything up, much to his protest - ‘you’re my guest, shouldn’t be cleanin’ up’ - but you insisted.

“Pleasure’s mine.” He smiles softly, willing himself to not get lost in your eyes again, averting his gaze quickly.

“Um.. you don’t have to leave just yet.” He starts, and you turn back to face him.

“Got a few guitars upstairs, if you wanted to play… I know we didn’t really get to last time.” He offers shyly, and you can’t hide your grin this time. You’re finally getting to hear Joel play.

“I’d like that.” You say, and he nods, going upstairs to grab them.

He comes back and hands you one, the two of you sitting down in the living room as you strum a little.

“So, what d’you wanna play?” He asks after a minute of letting you get acquainted with the guitar.

“I actually wanted to hear you play first… If that’s okay! It’s totally fine if you don’t wanna-”

“Nah. Figure I owe it to ya.” He says, thinking of a song and taking a deep breath before starting to play. It’s a little bit of a bold choice, but he figures he could play it off if you don’t receive it well.

The dawn is breaking

A light shining through

You’re barely waking

And I’m tangled up in you

You’re stunned into silence as his deep voice cuts through the air, positively transfixed by it and his skilful playing. You’re so entranced that you barely realise the lyrics of the song, but when you do, your eyes go even wider.

But I’m open, you’re closed

Where I follow, you’ll go

I worry I won’t see your face

Light up again

Surely he doesn’t mean it. He just chose a random song. He hasn’t made the same association with it that you have. It’s just a random song.

Even the best fall down sometime

Even the wrong words seem to rhyme

Out of the doubt that fills my mind

I somehow find

You and I collide

You listen quietly as he plays all the way til the end of the song, admiring how he plays, as lost in the music as you find yourself becoming.

You finally find

You and I collide

A final strum rings through the air as he looks up at you, meeting your wide eyes with his own, hoping that you understood what he meant from the song.

You open your mouth to say something, but you’re interrupted by the front door swinging open.

The moment is lost, and you blink quickly, standing up as two voices come from the front door.

“Yeah, we can just go to the gara- oh. Hey.” Ellie says bashfully, realising she’s probably just interrupted something.

“We’re just going to my place. Sorry.” She chuckles, walking through the living room with Dina, to whom you offer a small wave. Dina’s a nice girl, you know her from the school.

As the back door closes, you look back at Joel.

“I should probably get going.” You say, offering him a small smile.

He just nods, clearing his throat to fill the silence.

“I knew you’d be good at guitar.” You comment, and he smiles back at you this time.

“Thanks, sweetheart. You want me to walk you home?” He asks as the two of you walk to the front door.

“That’s okay. I’ll see you on Thursday?” You ask as red taints your cheeks once more from that name.

“Yep. See you then.”

“Thank you for this. Bye, Joel.” You say, leaning up and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek, something you’d decided to do before you could think about it too hard, before opening the front door and leaving him once again stunned, frozen in place on the other side.

You exhale shakily, taking a second to calm your nerves before heading back home.

Thank you sm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

Next Chapter

Tags- @mermaidgirl30 @tuquoquebrute @joelmillerisapunk @pascals-doll @casa-boiardi @konigslittleliebling @xxx-silhouette-xxx @hannah9921 @friskispunk @orcasoul @s0meoone

52 notes · View notes

hiorintruther · 6 months ago

Text

An Updated ‘Reasons Why I Ship Hiorin’ — Because It’s Been Ages Since I Made The First One And I’ve Had More Thoughts (and we got more moments!)

Aka: can you tell this ship makes me mentally unwell?

Hi again! It’s been a while. I did make one of these long posts a while back outlining why I choose to ship hiorin even though they’ve barely interacted and on the surface don’t look like they’d make sense at all. Since then, hiorin has gained quite a few shippers in the fandom and I keep thinking about the ship, especially with the Bastard Munchen vs PXG game FINALLY giving us some new crumbs. Unsurprisingly, ever since making the first post I’ve also had a lot more ideas about the dynamic, its potential, some more connections between them that I never touched on before, etc… and rather than editing the other post I thought it would be easier to just make a new one.

Some stuff I go over here might be familiar from the first post. I want this to be a kind of hub for any and all of my hiorin interpretations, analysis, trivia, headcanons, ‘theories’ (which I don’t think will be canon but the narrative potential for them is through the roof) and anything else I think is relevant to the ship. Feel free to jump around and read whatever is most interesting for you. Hiorin is a ship that, for me, is built on mountains of untapped potential. I just want to bring that potential to light all in one place.

Note: for this post I’ll only use information that has been written by Kaneshiro, drawn by Nomura or Sanomiya, or has otherwise been green-lit by Kaneshiro as canon. Merch collabs, voice actor QnAs, the PWC game etc… for me do not count as canon and I won’t use them. Also, the 10-image limit is biting my ass so my formatting for certain bits might be a bit all over the place. Apologies.

So without further ado. Let’s start! Enjoy the yap sesh!

Part 1 — The Manga Canon

Hiorin get their (very sparse and brief) interactions mostly from the Third Selection Arc (chapters 87-108) and the U20 arc (chapters 109-151). We’re also recently getting some new moments in the BM vs PXG match (chapters 250-present).

First off: the tryouts. It’s implied here that Hiori and Rin have never met, as Hiori notices Isagi’s response to Rin and asks if Isagi knows who Rin is. Rin also doesn’t acknowledge Hiori in any way here, so we can presume they’re strangers (although some shippers like to headcanon that they met during the first selection).

That being said during the match, after Isagi has been thoroughly shut down by Karasu, Rin turns his attention to Hiori as a teammate to help him get the ball up the field. Rin has never seen Hiori play before (as far as we know). They’ve never even talked. They’re barely getting familiar with each other’s play styles. And yet, they immediately link up to form a clean back and forth that optimises Rin’s play style. In fact, this duo helps Rin score 1 goal, and it would have helped Rin score 2 had Shidou not rudely interrupted the second.

It’s so deadly that Otoya has to intervene specifically to break them up, so that they can no longer continue their one-two passes up the field and threaten to go for another goal. (Also notice in this page below how as soon as the kickoff happens, Hiori is already running into position in the background. He understands what Rin wants to do).

Not only did Hiori and Rin naturally form a link-up, but Hiori was also fully capable of keeping up with Rin, something Nanase admitted he struggled with during this match and even Isagi was struggling with as well, since later on we see Isagi fail to intercept one of Hiori’s passes due to not being able to reach it in time (which presumably Rin would have been able to were he in Isagi’s position). So, from what we see of Hiori and Rin in this match, they’re on a similar wavelength in terms of skills, field vision and gameplay, and are naturally able to link up even as strangers. I’ll note here that neither of them were playing at full power — Hiori was playing on 0 motivation, and Rin was still utilising his Puppeteer play style instead of his Destroyer. More on this later in the ‘Headcanons’ section.

After the Tryouts, we next see them interact in the U20 match. We start with a brief callback to their tryouts link up in chapter 132, where Rin passes to Hiori. Hiori is acting as a relay between Isagi and Rin, which in my opinion would be a good way to utilise him after the NEL. Whether or not that’s how Kaneshiro chooses to use him in the future is anyone’s guess though.

The next big moment comes in chapter 140, after Shidou has kicked Rin in the face and the game has briefly paused. I think this is by far the most ‘iconic’ hiorin moment. While Isagi is analysing the previous play and Karasu is arguing with the ref, Hiori is the only one who actually checks on Rin. Even Bachira and Reo were right next to Rin and neither of them go to him. Hiori was further down the field but he moved to help Rin first. Not only is he gentle with and worried for Rin, but by some miracle Rin actually accepts his help! It feels almost out of character, given how angry Rin is for the rest of the match, but for this very brief moment he lets Hiori help him up and reassures him that he’s ‘fine’ (yeah sure buddy…).

For many this is the main ‘ooooooh’ moment with hiorin. But what if I told you it actually happens a second time this match? After Aiku goes rogue in chapter 142 and tries to score a goal, Rin ends up slide-tackling him to prevent it. And once again, if you look in the background of the panels following the interception in chapter 143, who is it helping Rin stand? It’s Hiori. And this time they actually hold hands!

The final hiorin moment in the U20 match comes soon after this in chapter 144, when Rin is about to enter his Destroyer mode. When Rin enters Destroyer mode, Hiori is in possession of the ball and so Rin steals it from him in a completely unpredictable move that had everyone stunned.

The U20 match moments, for many of us hiorin shippers, felt like the last time we’d ever see them properly interact. I at least had zero hopes for PXG. But oh boy was I wrong! Kaneshiro might not realise the dynamic he’s setting up with this duo but I’m gonna milk every interaction for what they’re worth! And so with that, I’ll bring you to the BM vs PXG match (note: currently still ongoing, so I’ll update this section as we get more moments). Since the U20 match, we’ve had some changes. The biggest one is Hiori’s personality. After going through his arc in Ubers, Hiori has become more outspoken and confident, playing into his ‘Ultra-Sadist’ style and being more than happy to speak his mind. He’s more argumentative and can whip up a good piece of trash talk (my gamer boy fr!). We see this on full display in chapter 251 when he completely shuts down Rin’s goal opportunity because Rin was too focussed on Isagi to see the bigger picture of the match. Hiori turns around, points at Rin, and tells him “if ya want a goal… come at me with an unpredictable script!”

Notice here how he isn’t simply putting Rin down for not being able to score. Hiori may be taunting Rin, perhaps getting over-confident, but he does still technically give Rin helpful advice. In a previous panel he explains how he was able to read Rin because Rin was too focussed on Isagi, and in combination with Hiori’s ‘unpredictable script’ line it forms some rather blunt and rude but nevertheless useful advice. Hiori is telling Rin exactly how to get past him and what Rin needs to do to improve. Notice the focus on unpredictability. I personally think this is a line foreshadowing Rin’s Destroyer mode, even if Hiori himself is unaware of it. Even if it’s not foreshadowing, Hiori’s advice is reasonable and Rin should listen to it.

The next moment we have of them together is from chapter 259, where Hiori is aided by Raichi to block Rin in a 2-person press, causing Rin to lose the ball. From a purely indulgent, shipping perspective, notice how Hiori’s and Rin’s legs are touching, their hands are on each other’s chests and they’re looking at each other. Raichi is just there lol.

Next we have chapter 270, where Rin has started to awaken his Destroyer and is barrelling his way through BM’s various players. Hiori is one of the players Rin gets past with ease. Rin gets past him with a rainbow flick, to which Hiori acknowledges Rin awakening by saying ‘he is good’. Note here that he is the only player on BM’s side to get actual dialogue in response to Rin overpowering them.

And as of right now, the latest interaction comes from chapter 273. Rin has entered Destroyer mode and has completely overwhelmed Hiori. Isagi actually says in this chapter that Rin has become someone he can’t analyse, a completely unreadable beast of a player. I think this means the ‘unpredictable script’ Hiori spoke of truly is the Destroyer, and Rin has finally been able to get past Hiori with it.

This may be it for their canon interactions, however it’s far from all the canon information we have about them that’s interesting for the dynamic. A big part of the hiorin ship is about looking at their individual information and drawing together similarities and/or parallels. While on the surface they seem very different, almost opposites, digging a little deeper reveals a lot of small coincidences about them that build up to make you realise that they’re a lot more similar than you might initially think.

Part 2 — Where Hiori and Rin Align

Analytical players. Both of them are capable of deeply analytical play styles that utilises field vision and high levels of technical skills. This way of playing doesn’t rely on brute strength or pure intimidation to get through the opponents’ defence, rather analysis, playing with and overcoming their opponents with strategy and out-playing their opponents with sheer levels of skill. This similarity is likely what led to them to be able to so easily link up when they first met. Rin is however also capable of being the Destroyer, which leads me to my second point below.

Sadism. Both are known sadists. Rin’s Destroyer mode is particularly sadistic, aiming to destroy in every way to the point where he will give up goal opportunities to destroy even more. In general, he revels in being at the top, destroying others under him. He’s open with his insults and destroys chaotically, looking for breaks in his opponents’ defence and completely tearing them down until there’s no hope of his opponents winning. Meanwhile Hiori is a self-proclaimed “ultra-sadist”. After his arc, he enjoys watching his opponents scramble to try and keep up with him only to be destroyed by his top-tier plays, especially in a ‘best play’ scenario with his chosen striker of the moment. He’s also not loyal to any one striker and will leave them behind if they’re not playing up to his standards or goal vision. Hiori’s sadism also manifests as him teasing his friends, as we see in chapter 241 when he jokingly teases Isagi for getting shipped with Kaiser by BLTV fans.

Sae connections. Rin’s connections to Sae are obvious, since they’re brothers and Sae is the cornerstone of Rin’s character arc. Hiori also has connections to Sae though. He’s been compared to Sae twice in-universe, once by Sendou in chapter 129 who said his passes had the same level of skill as Sae’s, and once by Yukimiya in chapter 241 who thinks Hiori’s ultra-sadist mindset is similar to Sae’s. In the Egoist Bible 2, Hiori states that he admires Sae as a player when answering the question ‘who has the best crossing skills’.

Replacements. In Rin’s light novel, he tells Sae that once Sae is gone, he’ll “find a replacement”. In chapter 239, Hiori tells Isagi that he won’t just be loyal to Isagi and will happily replace him with another striker should they be in a better position for Hiori’s vision.

They’re both gamers. Obviously we know Hiori is one. That’s been a big part of his character ever since we first met him. In his Egoist Bible profile, he states that he plays many genres, from JRPGs to rhythm games. However, Rin also plays video games, specifically horror games. We get this info from both the Egoist Bible and his prequel light novel, where it explains that he plays horror games to de-stress at night: (chapter 2) “… even games, should be chilling and scary. Playing horror games alone at night is quite thrilling”.

Horror, gore and zombies. As well as playing horror games to de-stress, it’s explained in the Egoist Bible and Rin’s light novel that he watches horror movies for the same reason: (chapter 2) “When he’s done, he watches a horror movie and then goes to bed. This is his daily routine. For some reason, since Sae has been gone, he only watches horror movies. Movies, videos …”. The light novel slightly expands on this to specify that he enjoys splatter films, as well as showing an illustration of him watching rather a gory zombie movie: (chapter 4) “Lately, he's been into splatter films. The one where a killer comes out with an electric saw and a big-ass ax, then blood splatters all over the place. The one where a killer chases you no matter how hard you try to escape, and if you get caught, you end up being dismembered. His heart is pounding, but he’s not the type to show on his face, so Rin watching the slaughter scene without any expression on his face is much more horrifying”. Likewise, Hiori is shown in chapter 206 playing a zombie shooter in which he imagines the zombies becoming his parents and he violently kills them. We see his inner monologue of this in his prequel light novel, showing the depths of how much he wants them to suffer: (chapter 6) “Before he knew it, in his imagination, his parents became zombies. His father and mother are coming towards him, laughing. He shoots without hesitation. Bang! Headshot. The bullet that entered the father's jaw blew off the back of his head. Bang! Bang! His mother's eyeballs pop out and there's a hole in her chest. He aims for vital spots with rapid fire, but they don't fall easily because they're zombies”. His Egoist Bible also confirms that he plays Dead By Daylight, which is a multiplayer horror game. Bonus point: Hiori’s favourite movie, Ready Player One, features an important series of scenes where the main characters have to explore a replica of the hotel from The Shining. The Shining is Rin’s favourite movie.

Solitude. Rin is ranked as the most anti-social member of Blue Lock in the Egoist Bible. He says he “doesn’t have time for lukewarm conversations” (although I do think on some level he longs for approval and love from someone, given how much he craves his brother’s attention). He is also one of the only characters who genuinely has no friends in Blue Lock. He tolerated Bachira for a time and trained Nanase begrudgingly, but no one is very close with him at all. Now, at a glance Hiori might seem far more social. He has a lot of friends and seems to enjoy hanging out with them. However, in his Egoist Bible entry it was revealed that his ideal type in a romantic partner is “someone who can leave me alone”. The wording he used — 放置し合えるん — seems to imply a reciprocal nature of this ‘leaving alone’, ie ‘you leave me alone, I’ll leave you alone’. Now tell me that arrangement wouldn’t work perfectly for Rin? Hiori is also shown in chapter 172 (which is before his character arc) spending time alone in the BM dorms while the others are out training. Furthermore, in Karasu’s ‘a day in Blue Lock’ in The Egoist Bible 2, he states that he and Hiori were in the communal bath together but did not talk or interact, and this was fine. While Hiori can enjoy socialising, he also needs plenty of time to himself to the point where it becomes a deal-breaker in a relationship for him.

Fetish. Hiori’s fetish according to the Egoist Bible is ‘fractured girl fetish’ and seems to refer to seeing injuries bandaged up (given that the actress he uses as an example wears a cast on her arm in the movie he’s referencing). Out of all the characters in Blue Lock, Rin is the one we’ve seen get injured multiple times, and in chapter 271 it was confirmed that this is a part of his nature. This was a part of him that was disapproved of by his parents and classmates, so Hiori actually liking it would be a massive relief.

Ochazuke (tea on rice). Rin’s favourite food according to the Egoist Bible is ochazuke, specifically taichazuke. In the Episode Rin extra chapter we see him going to enjoy some taichazuke at a traditional restaurant because he was hungry for ochazuke. When Hiori was asked in the Egoist Bible 2 what his favourite accompaniment for rice is, he replied that it’s the ochazuke brand Nagatanien.

Stripes. Rin’s casual outfits for both the Shibuya collab (designed by Nomura) and Episode Rin feature a striped/ribbed pattern. Likewise, Hiori’s casual pyjamas, childhood design and one of Nomura’s coaster designs feature him wearing striped clothing.

Egoist Bible rankings. In the Egoist Bible 2, they were ranked first and second most likely to have psychic powers. Hiori was also voted the best listener, meanwhile Rin was voted the worst.

Eyelashes. Both of them have long lashes. That’s kinda it for this one lol.

Water connections. Hiori’s favourite season is the rainy season and he has been referred to as ‘water coloured’ in the manga due to his hair colour (it means ‘cyan’ in Japanese — see point 14). Rin’s aura is water and he is regularly connected to the sea in his hometown of Kamakura.

Name kanji (yes, I’m in this deep). In Rin’s surname, the kanji 糸 means ‘thread/yarn’. In Hiori’s surname, the kanji 織 means ‘weaver’. Both of them have kanji relating to weaving, likely in relation to both Rin’s Puppeteer play style (and Sae’s insane control of the midfield), and Hiori’s way of ‘weaving’ together a best play through his skills (and his parents ‘weaving’ his life for him rather than letting him control it himself). To get even more conspiracy theorist-y, when Charles meets Hiori he calls Hiori “水色お兄さん” — literally ‘water-coloured big brother’, likely in relation to his hair colour because 水色 can also mean ‘cyan’. To keep it on the topic of water though, whose aura is made of water? That’s right. Rin’s! (yes I know this is really grasping at straws but I did say this post was for EVERYTHING hiorin).

A wild one here — dates. The exact age gap between Hiori and Rin is 9 months 9 days. 09/09 is Rin’s birthday.

Part 3 — Family Relationships: Love, Expectations and Abandonment

Rin and Hiori both have relationships with particular members of their family that are similar and also unique among the rest of the cast. For Rin, it’s his relationship with Sae. For Hiori, it’s his relationship with his parents.

To begin with Hiori, his parents only wanted a child who could fulfil their dream of being number one in the world at a particular sport. They held this expectation of him throughout his whole life, pretending to genuinely care about and love him when in reality all they wanted was for him to be the best. If he tried to step out of line, they’d become monstrous, as seen in his light novel: (chapter 2) “Can I take a day off from soccer tomorrow and go play with my friends?” As soon as he said this, the smiles disappeared from his parents’ faces. His mother looked very surprised, and then she made the scariest face he's ever seen. “......!” He doesn’t remember what she said. He just remembers that he was scolded terribly. After that, he was hugged tightly. “Hiori, you are born to be the best at soccer.” “You can play with other kids anytime you want.” “But if you don’t do soccer properly from now on, you will never be the best.” His mother was desperate. His father was behind her, looking sadly at Hiori. “Please, Hiori, trust us and play soccer.” Hiori felt that he had done something very wrong. … What should I do? I said something bad. I'm sorry. The air was stifling, as if he had been locked in a room full of needles. He felt like he would get hurt if he moved, so all Hiori could do was nod.” We also see the extent of this in chapter 206, when Hiori overhears his parents threatening to get a divorce if he isn’t the best. This makes him realise that if he doesn’t fulfil their expectations, his parents don’t want him. In essence, they would abandon him, letting their family fall apart and blaming it all on him.

With Rin, it’s a bit more complicated. His relationship with his older brother Sae is still pretty up in the air as to what really happened from Sae’s perspective. We need to distinguish between what actually happened (which is difficult to determine as of right now) and what Rin interpreted as happening. From his perspective, he has a moment in chapter 125 where he thinks Sae pretended to love him while they were growing up, only using him as a stepping stone to get to the world stage. After that had been achieved, Rin presumes was abandoned. This is unlikely true though (even if it’s tricky to discern for now). This is where I cry on deaf ears for a Sae light novel or spin-off chapter, anything to get his side of the story. My current PERSONAL interpretation of canon is that Sae still loves Rin, however he knows that Rin’s desire to be the world’s best as a duo is impossible, and his way of trying to ween Rin off such a dream was to sever their relationship, he just went about it in perhaps the worst way possible. No matter what really happened though, I’m more interested in what Rin interpreted from being abandoned, which is a mix of hatred and confusion but also still a desire for recognition.

This to me reads as very similar to what Hiori’s relationship with his parents used to be before his arc. Hiori hated his parents. He wished death upon them. And yet, despite that he kept fighting for what they wanted, fulfilling their expectations because he was so afraid that if he didn’t, all the blame would be placed on him for their family falling apart. Rin’s situation is sort of a dark mirror to Hiori’s, where instead of just fearing that abandonment, Rin was abandoned, with all the blame being placed on him by Sae. And just like Hiori, until his own awakening took place he himself was fighting for Sae’s approval again, trying to find any way he can to fulfil Sae’s expectations. We see this in the way Rin chose Isagi to be his rival after the U20 match not because of anything in particular that Isagi has done, but because Sae acknowledged Isagi. We see Rin’s desire for love in the way he travelled to Tokyo in the Episode Rin extra chapter to possibly watch Sae’s match, even though they’d already fallen out by that point. We even saw this limitation as recently as chapter 273, where Rin gives up a goal opportunity because, to him, Sae wouldn’t approve of it. His awakening has hopefully gone in a similar direction to Hiori’s, where he is now learning to play for himself.

Rin and Hiori both strove for love from their families and are now in the process of breaking from this mindset and fight only for themselves. This complicated relationship with love, expectations and abandonment is what draws me to a lot of hiorin’s potential. They both exist along a trajectory of breaking free from their families’ expectations, with Hiori having decided to not try to appease his family anymore and Rin having just started to unlock the true depths of his destruction without the need for Sae.

Part 4 — Headcanons: Some Fun Ideas

Anything from this point on is pure headcanon, taking into account all the canon information listed in the previous sections. This is NOT ‘speculation’. I genuinely don’t think any of this will be canon. Kaneshiro hasn’t consciously laid the groundwork for Rin and Hiori to interact but he has done so by accident and all the pieces are in place. This section is all about some fun ideas I’ve had about hiorin, mostly trying to use canon as a strong basis so that they make sense. These can range from canon-adjacent to domestic AU material, it’s a whole mix really. I’ll probably come back to this bit every now and again to update it with new ideas I have, so keep an eye out for that.

A shared understanding. Since they’re both familiar with what they perceive to be feelings of false love from family members, it creates a situation where they can understand why they act the way they do better than anyone else. I hc that this would help them to more naturally form link-ups on the field, since they’d be in tune with each other’s mental states as well as general play styles. Off-field they’d be able to recognise when something has ticked the other off or resurfaced some unpleasant memories. I don’t think they’d really be ones to talk about their family traumas to each other openly, but they’d have an understanding of the things they do find out and wouldn’t think the other is overreacting, especially Hiori understanding Rin. Hiori was voted the best listener, so while Rin likely would not open up much, if at all, Hiori would always be willing to listen to him. While I think it’s good that Rin has friends like Nanase who he can be more chilled out with, I personally prefer the idea that his partner is someone who can actually understand the depths of his issues and sit with him in the eye of the storm until it passes, rather than trying to just ‘fix’ him without being able to understand him properly.

Touch-starved and both slow to physical affection. Since they’re both introverted and Rin is emotionally constipated as hell, they aren’t really a couple that would be very into PDA. Not even hand-holding. But it doesn’t really matter for them. They’re both not very used to that sort of physical comfort especially in the presence of others. However, while I think in general Rin might be a bit more reluctant to initiate intimacy than Hiori, I do think he’d still be more inclined to initiate hugs. Why Rin of all people? Because he grew up with a sibling. And he was a younger sibling at that. On some level he would have received attention from Sae while their relationship was still good, even if only a little bit. Hiori on the other hand grew up an only child in a household where hugs and doting were used as a tool to manipulate him. He’d likely not be used to the idea of hugs as a genuine show of affection. But Rin’s hugs are always genuine and often given out sparingly and tentatively, after a lot of hesitation. They’re both slow to physical affection but they’d find a way to navigate their wants and needs together, taking their time.

All-nighter horror dates. Be it playing co-op horror games or binging horror movies in the dark, I think they’d both prefer that as a date night over going out to a restaurant. It’s an activity they can both have fun with as a shared interest, just the two of them, alone at home with no need to even leave the house. They can let themselves get more passionate and competitive (and sadistic) while playing horror games too. I particularly think they would play Dead By Daylight together a lot, with Hiori maining a killer since he said that’s what he would play in the Egoist Bible 2.0 and Rin playing a survivor since that allows him to fight for his life until death, something he strives for in life.

Owl eyes. According to the Egoist Bible, Rin’s favourite animal is owls (a lot of Nomura’s Rin drawings also feature owls, he has a plushie of an owl in chapter 270 and he wears a ‘fukurou’ (owl) bag in the Episode Rin extra chapter). It is also a fandom-wide thing to say that Hiori has giant eyes. While most people compare Hiori’s eyes to bugs, I’d like to offer comparing them to owl eyes — giant, round, staring into your soul maybe a bit too much. Hiori has owl eyes and Rin loves owls, so I headcanon that Rin would love Hiori’s large, curious eyes more than anyone.

Yoga together. While we only have canonical confirmation that Rin both regularly does yoga and is good at it, I hc that Hiori would also be quite good at it due to his parents likely drilling him with intense schedules and being helicopter parents about his health. Yoga would likely fall into it somewhere as a cool-down activity and a good way to exercise on rainy days. While Hiori initially wouldn’t find yoga fun to do with Rin due to his negative associations with it, I feel like over time it could be a nice bonding activity for the two of them. It requires minimal talking if they’re doing their own routines, and as long as Hiori isn’t messing up the moves I think Rin would tolerate the two of them existing in the same space. At the very least, Hiori wouldn’t try to one-up Rin with moves he can’t do and topple onto Rin as a result (looking at you, Isagi…). They wouldn’t do couples yoga though, just their own thing in the same space.

Sharing food. In the Twitter QnAs, it states that Hiori’s favourite food is salt-grilled saury (saury shiyoyaki) “including the bitter bits”. His least favourite food is cotton candy because “it’s just sugar”. Therefore, I hc that he tends to enjoy bitter food while disliking sweet food. In contrast, we know that Rin quite likes sweet food because he used to eat ice cream with Sae on the way home from practice, plus in the Episode Rin extra chapter he enjoys most blanc at a dessert cafe. Because of this difference in tastes, I like to hc Hiori giving any sweet food Blue Lock offers in their meals to Rin. Likewise, if the main meal Rin is given is ever burnt or charred too much for his liking, he gives the charred bits to Hiori since he knows Hiori will eat them so the food won’t be wasted.

Tea and coffee. As an addendum to the previous hc, I think Hiori would be a coffee drinker and Rin would be a tea drinker. This is because coffee tends to be more bitter, especially ones without sugar like espressos, so I can see Hiori preferring them to tea. There’s also the idea that ochazuke is made with tea, which is a bonus for Rin liking tea over coffee.

Cooking. Last food-related one I promise! While Hiori likely has a ton of technical knowledge about nutrition, dieting, calorie counting etc… due to his mother’s frenzied control of his diet growing up, I headcanon that he doesn’t actually have a clue how to cook. Once again, this is because of his parents being overprotective and worrying that he’d injure himself with a kitchen knife or burn himself on the stovetop. So he has zero clue about where to start in the kitchen. On the flip-side, while Rin isn’t the best cook in the world I reckon he’d have somewhat of an idea of how to cook the basics, plus he likely also has knowledge of dieting and nutrition for the sake of his own health. So while they’d both have things to learn in the kitchen, it would be Rin doing more of the actual cooking while Hiori decides what meals to eat to optimise their health and training.

A joint-aura that’s a blizzard — in the event that they ever were to team up on the field, I think that the aura they’d give off together should be a blizzard. It makes sense to me for them to have this because Hiori has ice associations with the kanji 氷 in his surname, which means ‘ice’, and in chapter 239 when he gives his monologue about finding a reason to play, a metaphorical key appears with a snowflake on it to symbolise his newfound resolve. Rin’s connections to snow are less positive though, since it was snowing the day that Sae abandoned him. I think making their joint aura a blizzard could symbolise both Hiori’s ultra-sadist resolve to play, and Rin finally being able to move on from Sae to associate the snow with his sadistic determination. A snowstorm joint-aura would also emphasise the pair of them having a sadistic, destructive take-down of their opponents.

Hurt/comfort. Given Hiori’s fetish and Rin’s predisposition to violence and injury, I love the idea of Hiori being the one to bandage Rin up when he gets hurt. From the U20 match we know that Hiori’s first instinct is to ask Rin if he’s alright and help him, but since his fetish is for this sort of thing I highly doubt he would scold Rin, chastise him or tell him to try his best not to get hurt anymore. Rather, he would accept Rin the way he is, tend to his injuries without pity or complaint, and Rin would be able to have someone be there for him who doesn’t look down on him for being destructive. We see in Rin’s flashback chapters during PXG that he was nervous about getting scolded by his parents, which is why I think Hiori’s acceptance would be so important to him.

Hiori has a type. His canon type is already ‘someone who will leave me alone’ as I previously discussed in section 2. However, I do like to semi-jokingly say that his type is also ‘dark-haired, analytical guys with an attitude who are really good at football’. Obviously this is meant to refer mostly to Isagi and Karasu (we’ve all seen the heart-eyes you give them, Hiori!), but it is amusing to me that the description also fits Rin perfectly.

Part 5 — Transformative Works I Recommend For New Shippers

These are just some of my favourite fanfics all linked together in one place. I’ll start with a shameless plug of my own fic:

14 Days To NOT Fall In Love (but guess who did anyway)

Summary: This annoyingly mandated break of Ego's was only fourteen days long. That would never be enough time for Rin to fall for this aggravatingly sweet, understanding, level-headed, cyan-haired gamer boy... Okay, maybe he'd need to exercise SOME restraint. Aka: how Rin and Hiori become mutually pining idiots after the U-20 match through a combination of video games, late night discord calls and learning that perhaps they're not all that different after all.

(Chapters: 10 , Word Count: 67088 , Rating: T)

And now for my personal favourites I think new shippers will enjoy, in no particular order (if any of the authors see this and have tumblrs you want me to tag, lmk!):

catch us in the morning by transrightssokka (kellallyourfriends)

Summary: Hiori looks down and brings his hand up to his mouth, hiding a faint smile. “You don’t wanna go home, do you?” “No shit, I don’t,” Rin says. He’d rather sleep on the sidewalk than spend the next two weeks with Sae. Hiori is silent for a minute. His pretty eyes flick to his feet. Up to the back of the seat in front of them. Over to Rin. “So.” “So?” Rin says. Hiori lowers his voice. “So, what if we didn’t?”

(Chapters: 3 , Word Count: 27206 , Rated: M)

Even When It’s Starless by saturnshots

Summary: Everyone’s had an imaginary friend or two — it’s not often they change the course of your life, but who says being imaginary could stop them from bringing your dreams come true?

(Chapters: 1 , Word Count: 2838 , Rating: G)

sine wave by starstruckdove

Summary: Rin discovers Bachira’s “super secret surprise” sooner than he’d thought. There’s a new boy standing next to Ego at practice, and Rin knows he’s new because each of his unfortunate teammates have made their presence (loudly and raucously) known in his life. The boy has a nice face–wide eyes and soft mouth, all rounded corners instead of sharp edges. His hair is a shocking shade of blue and Rin finds it almost familiar. “This is your new manager,” Ego says with about as much energy as a dead battery.

(Chapters: 1 , Word Count: 8990 , Rated: T)

Daydreaming by em_hiorin

Summary: Hiori can’t seem to concentrate during practice, as a certain Itoshi has been plaguing his mind.

(Chapters: 1 , Word Count: 1560 , Rating: G)

My family thinks we’re dating. by akiangelsolos

Summary: “Oh, I see.” His mother hummed, placing her silver fork down on the table. “You must be upset, Hiori hasn’t come over in a while. You have to be lonely without your boyfriend around.” “I’m not lonely-” Rin shot his eyes at his mom, “What did you just say?”

(Chapters: 2 , Word Count: 5486 , Rating: G)

Part 6 — Wow, You Made It This Far? Congratulations And Thank You!

If you’ve made it this far, then I am both immensely thankful and I applaud you. Seriously, thank you for putting up with my insane, delusional brainrot over this silly rarepair that has barely any canon backing to speak of. Hopefully if anything, you now understand why people are starting to take interest in the ship (or at least why I enjoy it). And if you’re a shipper now, welcome to the club! You will now have to watch Hiori and Rin never affect each other’s development, never interact in any meaningful capacity and you’ll be eternally bitter about it 👍. For any aspiring fic writers, I hope this can be a nice hub of info for all of you if you want to consult the hiorin ‘dynamic’ (i say in quotations because let’s face it, I made up like 95% of the dynamic based on analysis and a canon dynamic doesn’t actually exist). Also, bear in mind that in the off chance we do get some more moments, I plan to update this post. So you may end up being subject to even more brainrot in the future.

Until that day comes though, I can only thank you once again. Hiorin is my otp and no matter how much Kaneshiro doesn’t make it come to fruition, he will have to try incredibly hard to make me stop shipping them. The dynamic can change. They can become more and more ‘incompatible’. I don’t care. If hiorin has no shippers, I have passed on from this world.

#blue lock #bllk #hiorin #hiori yo #itoshi rin #blue lock hiori #blue lock rin #FINALLY this post is finished!!!#I’ve been working on it for weeks #it’s mostly for myself ngl #just a nice place to compile all my screaming into one clump #might as well share it with the world yk?#I hope it makes even a modicum of sense to any unsuspecting readers who don’t ship it #rinhio #rnho

78 notes · View notes