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patchworkgargoyle · 9 months ago

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oc fic: i just don't wanna miss you tonight

Posting this for @ockissweek Week Day 1: Almost. This is a prequel to my friend Ger's fic, and then this fic of mine. If you enjoy this one, please consider giving both of those a read too! (Start with Ger's, if you want to go in order.)

For very brief context, we've shoved our oc's into the angstiest mafia!au to cause ourselves pain. It's been fun xD

Featuring Dominik: transmasc OMC, mine Sam: OMC, @steves-strapcollection Rating: E || Words: ~4.8k || CW: some angst, frottage, penetrative sex Title from Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls because an angsty ship isn't complete without this song.

Sam's large hand traced light patterns into Dom's sweaty skin. It was a little funny, Dom thought as those fingers left tingling trails of goosebumps, that hands that have hurt and killed people can be so gentle.

His own were far from innocent too, and hadn’t been nearly as gentle with Sam. Sam's right cheek was still red from being slapped, though, to be fair, he'd asked for it. And Dom left more welts from his nails than usual, and bruises where he’d gripped too hard.

So what if he was grabbier tonight. He had his reasons.

Blunt and calloused fingertips trailed back down Dom's bare thigh, over the sensitive crease of his hip, along a short knife scar on his tummy. He couldn't look at Sam. Just watched his hand wander. It felt like Sam was cataloguing him, memorising his imperfections and tells, and it made him want to squirm uncomfortably under the attention. He held still, though, and distracted himself by thinking over the words he’d been trying to say all night.

Sam broke the silence first.

“You're tense,” he said. His voice was sandpaper-rough.

Dom hated how easily Sam could read him. But he pursed his lips and only gave a clipped hum in response.

Shifting on the wrinkled bed sheets, Sam drew closer and kissed Dom's shoulder. “You're starting to make me worry I didn't fuck you well enough, but you'd bitch me out for it if I didn't.” That made Dom snort, and he could see Sam's triumphant smile in the corner of his eye. “What's going on, sweetheart?”

“I have news.”

Sam's hand stalled, then laid flat on Dom's sternum, broad and comforting. “Bad news or good?” He asked.

“I'm being shipped off to Cuba. Because that Moretti job went so well,” Dom blurted, then cringed at himself internally. He was fucking trained better that that, what the fuck.

When Sam didn't say anything, Dom finally faced him. He’d been lying on his side as they came down, but now he propped himself up on one arm. The smile that made his face so warm was gone, shut behind a tense, neutral mask that Dom instantly despised.

“When.”

Dom didn't want to tell him. He’d almost decided to not tell him at all and just up and leave instead until Vinny yelled at him. Rightfully called him an asshole, especially for waiting this long. But every time Dom tried to tell him, the words got stuck behind the cage of his teeth.

“When, Dominik?”

“In two days.”

Sam shoved himself out of bed. His hand on Dom's chest was a heavy and pressing weight, suddenly lifted, and the absence left him cold. Sam paced a few steps, running a hand through his sex-mussed hair. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He spat, then turned to Dom, not only angry, but hurt. “How long have you known.”

Grinding his teeth, Dom said, “Over a month.”

Sam's lips twitched up in a rigid sneer as he tilted his head to the side. He didn't say what he clearly wanted to, though; he covered his mouth with his palm and dragged it down, eyes unfocused on the middle distance, breathing heavily.

Fuck. He looked wounded. Dom had thought the worst reaction would be some anger, maybe. Not this. The dread he’d felt about telling him was because he thought Sam wouldn't care. Dom's chest filled with a stifling guilt as he silently watched Sam process the information.

“Don't go.”

Sam was still looking away when he said it. The words were muffled behind his palm, but Dom heard them clearly anyway.

“I have to,” he said after a pause. “Orders came from Father Dearest himself.”

Sighing angrily, Sam glared at Dom. “So he, what, rewards a job well done with exile now and you just fucking obey? Vinny fights back–”

“Yeah, and I'm not Vinny, if you haven't fucking noticed!”

“Of course I–” Sam cut himself, rolling his eyes. “So you're just going. Do you even want to?”

Dom scoffed. “No.”

Sam spread his arms wide, palms held up. “Then don't go!”

“I don't have a choice,” Dom said, desperately keeping his voice flat though he could feel his emotions threatening to shake right out of his body. His fists bunched in the sheets under him, hard enough to strain the fabric. He needed Sam to stop before–

“Yes, you do–”

“No, I don’t!” Dom swung around to sit at the edge of the mattress, gesturing wildly. “I don't want to uproot my whole fucking life. But I can't say no to this!”

“What even fucking happens, Dominik? If you say no?”

“The Moretti’s, and Salvatore, want my fucking head on a pike now, Sam! What do you think happens!?”

Sam’s jaw snapped shut. He was still furious, but Dom saw the fight leaving him in the way his shoulders started to slump and his mouth twitched downward. The sight made Dom ache. Sam looked ruined, standing alone in the middle of his darkened bedroom.

“I’ll protect you,” Sam said, but he sounded hollow. He and Dom both knew that wouldn’t work, and Dom’s dad wouldn’t allow them to work that closely. He shook his head silently. Sam’s lips curled inward and Dom swore he saw a wetness in his eyes before he looked away, scrubbing a hand over his face.

He had no idea this would hit Sam so hard. Shame sat heavy on his chest and there was no way to relieve it. “I’m sorry, darling,” he said softly, and Sam made a pained noise.

“Don’t—don’t call me that right now, for fuck’s sake, Dom.”

“Okay.”

“How long do you have to stay away for?”

Dom shrugged wearily. “I don't know. Until it's safe, I guess. Or dad needs me back home.”

Sam sighed. Hung his head. Slowly, though, his feet brought him back to the bed, back to Dom, who couldn’t help admiring his naked body when he stood so closely. The lamp cast shadows over Sam, turning him into a chiaroscuro painting. A masterpiece of a handsome man in light and dark, strength and sadness. Dom met his gaze, though, and the artwork fell away to the reality of Sam’s stricken face.

Reaching out, Sam tucked a lock of Dom’s thick, unruly hair behind his ear then cupped his cheeks between both palms. His eyes darted down to Dom's lips briefly and he thought Sam was about to try to kiss him, for the first time since he'd been told not to. Sam put a knee between Dom's spread thighs and bent down over him, tilting his chin up, and Dom's heart raced at the thought of what was coming.

He wasn't sure if he'd stop it or not.

But Sam had apparently already made the choice for him. He touched his forehead against Dom's and held him there, eyes closed. Their faces were so close they were almost kissing and Dom’s heart thundered in his ears. He could feel how Sam’s brow furrowed and closed his own eyes so he couldn’t see what he’d done.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner,” Sam whispered.

“Didn’t think you’d care,” he said, matching Sam’s quiet tone.

Sam groaned frustratedly. He gave Dom’s face a gentle squeeze, pulling back so he could give Dom a tired, serious look and said, “You’re a giant fucking idiot.”

Dom grimaced, glancing away when the words stung more than he thought they could. “Fuck off,” he snapped, and half-heartedly tried to jerk away from Sam’s hands. He didn’t go far at all, and Sam’s hands stayed put. “You said when we started fucking that you didn’t get involved, okay? And I don’t either. What else was I supposed to think.”

Frowning thoughtfully, Sam tipped his head in acknowledgement and said distantly, “Yeah… you’re right.” Then he sighed. The only warning Dom got for what came next was a short, “C’mon,” before Sam stooped and hauled Dom up into the air.

He didn’t have time to make a sound before Sam dropped him on the bed properly and stretched out over him, settling between his thighs. The sheer intensity in the way Sam gazed down at him was overwhelming. He almost couldn’t look, but he did, both wanting to run away from and sink into the naked desire he saw in Sam’s face.

“What the hell?” Dom asked, breathless. Sam pressed their bodies together and Dom’s heart sped up.

“I care. Shit, I care so fucking much, Dominik,” Sam said desperately. “Let me show you?”

The tip of Sam’s nose brushed along Dom’s high cheekbone, their lips so close just one movement would bring them together, but Sam tucked his face into Dom’s neck like he always did, and Dom gasped when he felt Sam’s tongue light on his skin, tasting him.

“Yes. Yeah,” was all he could say, and Sam whispered a thank you into his shoulder.

Sam’s hips slowly rolled into Dom’s, dragging his hardening cock along the seam of Dom’s cunt, rubbing against his dick, which was still sensitive from earlier. Dom rocked with him, matching his pace.

Dom had been rough with Sam earlier, but now that Sam took the lead, he kept their movements unhurried. They were grinding into each other until Sam was fully hard, his thick cock leaking precome, coated in Dom’s slick as it slipped between his folds with a wet sound. Dom canted his hips in a way that had their dicks rubbing together, but Sam made sure it was no more than a tease that only built gradually. All the while, Sam was devouring Dom’s neck, licking and kissing and sucking hickies into his pale skin. Dom wrapped a leg behind Sam’s thigh, pulling him closer.

Fuck, he needed to be closer.

His fingers dug into the meat of Sam’s bicep, his other hand tangled in Sam’s shaggy hair, partially to grab but also to hold him. Dom let his cheek rest on Sam’s head, basically nuzzling him, unable to hide the affection he felt for the older man anymore. Why hold back if this might be the last time they saw each other?

Sam nuzzled back. Pressed a kiss to Dom’s cheek, then asked, “Can you come like this, kitten?”

“Stop fucking calling me that, shit.”

“Can you?”

“What, from humping each other like teenagers?” he laughed.

“Yeah.” Dom felt his smile, heard it in his voice.

“Maybe if you’d stop teasing me with your—oh.”

Dom groaned as Sam ground their cocks together harder, faster, pleasure zinging up Dom’s spine. He arched into it, gasping, and Sam’s smug laughter made him want to dig his nails in. They kept rutting against each other and the pressure built in Dom’s core, the constant drag of Sam’s cock on his lighting him up. He could feel the fucking vein on Sam’s cock rub against him, felt the way he twitched when Dom would make a noise. Sam nearly slipped inside once and Dom clenched around the fat, blunt head of him before Sam went back to grinding and Dom gave a frustrated huff.

He was done with this. He wanted more. He needed Sam inside him.

“Sam, just fuck me already.”

“Nope. Taking my time with you tonight. Want you to feel it, kitten.” As if to prove it, Sam slowed down, though the press of their bodies stayed the same. It was… fuck, it was better. He could feel everything. Dom’s legs started to twitch at every sensation. Any words of protest were lost to the flare in his gut that grew and spread swiftly. He chased the feeling at Sam’s pace, mouth dropping open soundlessly and his head falling back into the pillows.

Sam’s mouth barely left Dom’s skin. He kissed him where he was allowed, pushing the boundary by getting close to the corner of Dom’s lips but never crossing it. Each one was soft and sweet and the contrast between them and their thorough, messy frotting made him feel insane. He kept clenching around nothing. God, he needed to fucking come.

“Sam,” Dom whined.

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

“Touch me, fuck, please.”

He felt one more kiss on his cheek before Sam moved so he could reach between them. Dom moaned as soon as he felt fingers on his dick, rubbing in tandem with his thrusts. “Good?” Sam grunted, and Dom nodded, frantic. The increased pressure was enough. Dom came with a choked groan, his thighs trapping Sam in place.

Before the aftershocks had a chance to stop, Dom opened his eyes, stared Sam down while still trying to catch his breath, and insisted, “In me. Now.” Sam shook his head, mouth opening to speak, but Dom interrupted him. “Not. Not to fuck me. Just wanna feel you.”

“Okay, sweetheart, okay.”

All it took was the slightest change in angle, and Dom felt Sam pressing into him. He watched as Sam’s flushed red cock slid slowly into him, panting at the near painful stretch even though he’d already been full of him before. Fuck, Sam was thick. It was a surprise no matter how often they’d had sex. Dom could never get enough of the feeling.

Sam’s brows were drawn together, and he breathed heavily, also watching where he disappeared inside Dom in one slow stroke. Though part of him wanted to urge Sam on, do something to make him bully right into his cunt, get that delicious, toe-curling pleasure-pain, Dom also… didn’t want that. Not tonight.

Now that the urgency of that first orgasm was over—though his nerves were still lit with it, sparking enticingly the deeper Sam got and making his cunt clench greedily around Sam’s cock—he needed this. The care, the patience. He gazed at Sam instead of where their bodies met and waited for him to look back. Dom had no idea what emotions he’d see when he did. There were too many swirling around in his mind to know.

Sam let out a shuddery breath when he sank fully into Dom, his head hanging. Dom’s eyes almost fluttered shut at how fucking full he was, but he needed to concentrate on Sam. His shoulders were tense from keeping still and holding himself up, so Dom trailed his hand up his arm, over the swell of his shoulder. He just needed to touch him, soothe him maybe.

When he finally lifted his heavy head, Sam’s expression was somewhere between sadness and raw devotion. His dark eyes held so much of both that Dom wished he could crack his ribcage open and give Sam his heart if only to try and take that sadness away. It was only right, when he was the one who’d put it there. All Dom could do instead was cradle Sam’s face in his palm and apologise again.

“I’m sorry, d—Sam. I’m sorry.”

Shaking his head once, Sam leaned into Dom’s touch, turning just enough to kiss his palm. His soft lips lingered, stubble tickling where it rasped against his hand, and Dom let his thumb brush over Sam’s strong cheekbone.

“Nothing you could do,” Sam said.

“Could’ve told you sooner.”

That earned Dom a laugh, warm breath bursting over his palm, until both men gasped when it jostled them, but Dom ignored the reminder that he was stretched open and stuffed so fucking full. Sam was smiling. Barely, but it was enough. That’s all that fucking mattered.

“Yeah, you could’ve. At least you told me at all, though, I guess.”

“Almost didn’t,” Dom admitted.

“Christ, that would’ve been…”

“A shitty fucking move on my part.”

Sam laughed again, and Dom’s hips twitched involuntarily. Holding his gaze, Sam bore down so they were flush together, buried so deep that Dom ached and groaned even while he arched his back to meet him. He wanted to feel Sam’s cock so deep in his cunt he’d still be sore by the time he landed in Cuba.

Dom laid back into the bed fully as Sam stretched out above him. He loved seeing Sam like this, loved being beneath him even if it took time to admit that. Would’ve hated to admit it a few months ago. But looking up at Sam, being able to see his face, being surrounded by him… Dom fucking craved it.

“I would’ve tracked you down,” Sam said, hissing as he pulled out agonisingly slowly. When Sam started to push back in, just as slow, Dom gave a low moan. “If you just fucking left. I’d tear the city apart trying to find you.”

Eyes locked on each other, Dom could see the fierce sincerity behind his words, the determination, and it rattled him to be wanted this much. “Da—Sam–”

“Call me darling, please, sweetheart.”

Dom whimpered, his cunt squeezing around Sam as he kept rocking in and out so maddeningly slowly. “God, fuck, darling, I don’t wanna go.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Sam said. Resting his forehead against Dom’s, both of them a little sweaty, he whispered, “I know.”

Where before Dom wanted to crack his ribs open, now it felt like they were about to burst open of their own accord. The only way to describe what he felt was a word that Dom actively shied away from, something he’d never felt before, not like this. It felt cruel and fucking tragic to realise what it was now, of all fucking times, and he wanted to bury his heart six feet under and, at the same time, let it all spill out, messy and raw and red, for Sam to hear. But if it was cruel to know, it felt worse to say, even if the only way Dom could describe what they were doing was to call it making love.

There was a desperation in the way Sam thrust into him despite the almost lazy pace, and a tenderness that Dom could only hope to match in the way he touched Sam, in how his hips rose to meet Sam’s over and over like gentle waves. They breathed the same air, faces so close Dom’s mouth brushed Sam’s lower lip. He was seized by the desire to kiss Sam, so strong it was terrifying, but he couldn’t. Fuck, he couldn’t. Not like this, before he left. But the need kept burning in him as severely as the pleasure surging through him.

He held the back of Sam’s neck instead, kept him close while he still could, trying to memorise everything. The way Sam smelled like his woodsy shampoo and the musk of his body during sex, how painfully soft his eyes were as he watched Dom slowly come apart underneath him; he didn’t want to forget any of it.

“Sam.” Dom’s voice cracked. “Samuele.”

“Dominik,” Sam said, his voice husky and shaking, “fuck, sweetheart, this is–”

“Yeah,” Dom laughed thickly.

“Not gonna last.”

“Me neither. It’s okay, darling.”

Dom lost himself in the rhythm of their bodies moving together, perfectly matched, that delicious tension in his belly going taught and ready to snap. Sam’s quiet grunts mixed with Dom’s breathless moans and the slick sounds between them. Sam kept a constant pressure on Dom’s g-spot, and though he’d never been able to come just from this, Dom felt his climax coming like standing at the end of a diving board. He was so fucking close.

So was Sam. He was trying to keep steady, but Dom felt him losing rhythm, speeding up accidentally just to catch himself at it like he could barely resist Dom’s cunt.

“Come, darling.” Dom spread his legs wider so Sam could drive as deep as he needed.

With a wounded, hungry growl, Sam thrust faster, only a handful of times before he came, buried as far as he could get, cock pulsing as heat bloomed and that was all it took to tip Dom over too, feeling Sam’s cum inside him as he shuddered and shook apart, crying Sam’s name and half-sobbing as they rocked together to ride out their waning orgasms.

They clung to each other in the aftermath. Dom could feel Sam trembling, knew he was too, and though the longer Sam laid on him the more he felt the weight, Dom didn’t want him to move. He wanted Sam to stay inside him, had the wild and impossible thought that maybe something would stick if they waited long enough. It wouldn’t, he knew, and he shuffled the idea off to where he didn’t have to think about it again for a long fucking time.

Sam was the first to move, groaning as he slipped out and reached over to the nightstand where the cloth they’d used before sat. Normally Dom might complain about it being fucking gross, but he was still coming down from… everything. And he didn’t want Sam to go too far from him. Not yet. So he took the cloth when Sam handed it over, cleaned himself up, and watched Sam follow suit before he flopped face-down onto the mattress with a sigh.

Dom linked their pinkies together on a whim. It made Sam giggle, and when Dom glanced over he was giving Dom a smile that was almost shy and reignited the stubborn, powerful need to kiss Sam silly. He still didn’t give in. Just gave his pinkie a squeeze and looked away before he did something stupid.

Comfortable silence laid over them like a blanket, but Dom’s mind, once it came back, started whirling again. Sam was watching him, and could probably see the cogs turning in Dom’s mind. He was patient, though. He didn’t press for anything. Dom appreciated it; so much had happened, he’d felt so fucking much, that he needed time to sort through it all or else it’d all come out in an incomprehensible mess.

But there was one thing Sam hadn’t said, throughout the whole night, and it clung to his thoughts like a burr until he had to speak it aloud to get rid of it.

“So. Will you miss me?” Dom asked quietly as he stared at the ceiling.

Sam scoffed. “I thought I made that obvious,” he said, sounding a little offended, and rightfully so, Dom figured. When he didn't respond, just kept staring up, his lips drawn in a tense line, Sam sighed. “What do you want me to say?”

“Lie to me.”

Dom's eyes flicked over to Sam and found himself being watched, puzzled at, a thoughtful frown pulling down his lips. Dom squirmed a bit, but didn't look away.

There was no way he could doubt how Sam felt now. He cared so much more than Dom even hoped to believe, but this was the last time they'd see each other for who knows how long. Hearing the raw truth of how deeply Sam felt just before he had to leave was too much for Dom to bear, no matter how badly he wanted to hear it. After the way they’d… fucked, he was so fucking fragile he could feel the hairline cracks in his composure.

But as a bit, a joke, a lie? It gave Dom enough space to listen, and, he hoped, it could give Sam a chance to say as much as he needed, to get it off his chest.

Shifting, Sam propped himself up so he was nearly on top of Dom again, his side pressed against Sam's chest. All Dom could see was Sam, and it was almost terrifying to think that he might not get this again.

Sam's fingers traced the angles of Dom's jaw as he spoke. “I won't think about you all the time,” he began quietly, “I won't wake up wondering about how you are, or what you're doing, or if you’re safe. I'm not going to worry if you'll miss me too. I don't–”

He cut himself off. Dom's heart raced, unable to break away from the intense look in Sam's eyes until Sam did it himself, glancing at Dom's lips with a sad twitch of a smile before leaning down to kiss his cheek so sweetly.

“I won't miss you, Dominik,” he whispered into his skin, the tone of his voice so earnest it hurt to hear.

Without thinking, Dom tugged Sam close, wrapping his arms around him, tangling his fingers in Sam's hair as he held him. Sam melted into it with a sigh. Dom didn’t know he’d needed this until something settled in his mind and the tension he’d been holding in his body fled.

“I won't miss you at all. Never. Not even a little,” Dom said, feeling a little victorious when Sam huffed and smiled where his face was nestled into the crook of his neck. And, feeling a bit brave, he admitted, “I won't… I won't worry that you'll forget me.”

“I'll forget you as soon as you get on the plane,” Sam teased as he kissed his jaw.

Dom snorted and said, “Your object permanence is shitty.”

“Yeah. It's a problem.” They both laughed a little, but it died off quickly. Sam's arm snaked under Dom's ribs to pull him impossibly closer, their legs slotting together like puzzle pieces. “I couldn't forget you just as much as I couldn't help missing you every fucking day,” Sam confessed.

“Liar,” Dom said, even while hating that he couldn't take just one moment seriously.

“You know I'm not.”

Dom swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I know.” Snuggling in closer and resting his cheek on top of Sam’s head, he whispered, “I know now. Sorry.”

“S’okay,” Sam whispered back. He kissed Dom’s jaw again, a few times, slow and gentle, as Dom’s free hand trailed up and down his arm as he soaked up as much time and affection as he could. It was so much less time than Dom wanted, and more affection than he felt he deserved. But he’d always been greedy, so he’d take everything Sam gave him anyway.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” Sam asked.

Shaking his head, Dom said regretfully, “Spending all day with my family. I’d sneak away but I doubt mom would let me get away with it. And I’d invite you, but…” Sam gave an unhappy grunt that made Dom chuckle lightly. They both knew who’d disapprove of that.

“Can I at least drive you to the airport? See you off?”

“Dad asked Vinny to do it. And. I’m not allowed contact with anyone but my family. No one’s allowed to so much as fucking visit me, either. Too risky.”

The arm around Dom’s back squeezed him, Sam’s fingertips digging into Dom’s side. “So this is really it.”

Sam’s voice was so flat and dull that Dom wanted to slap himself, at the very least, for being such a massive asshole. He nodded.

“I’m so fucking pissed at you,” Sam muttered.

“Yeah. I deserve it.”

Sam gave a heavy sigh before pulling back enough to look at Dom. “Don’t do that.” Dom looked away, but Sam kept going. “Don’t. I forgive you, too.”

Dom felt his face threatening to crumble, the thin façade he’d been clinging to this whole time about to give way to the weight of Sam’s honesty on top of all the grief he’d shoved down just to get through this whole fucking night. His chest tightened, and when his breath hitched Dom cleared his throat to try to hide it. Then Sam said a quiet, sad, “Sweetheart,” and Dom hiccuped a laugh that sounded like a sob.

He was immediately enveloped in Sam’s arms, his warm weight a familiar comfort that Dom burrowed into. He allowed himself a sniffle or two before composing himself, breathing only a little unsteadily as he got his emotions under control, though he nearly lost it again when he felt the slight stutter in Sam’s chest too.

“Please stay the night,” Sam said, his voice thick. “Just once.”

“I will, my darling.” And Dom, for once, kissed Sam’s cheek. Sam leaned into the touch like he’d been starving for it.

“Your darling?” Sam sounded a bit like he’d had the wind knocked out of him, and Dom knew he needed to drive the point home if he sounded that surprised by such a tiny change. Needed Sam to know, even if he only had enough bravery for a handful of words.

“My darling.” He kissed Sam’s other cheek. “Mine until you don’t want to be anymore.”

Laughing in relief, Sam pressed his forehead to Dom’s. Though he smiled, he still looked like Dom was ruthlessly breaking his heart. Dom wished, so fucking much, that he could stay and hold the pieces together.

“Yours,” Sam said, “for—for as long as you’ll have me.”

Thanks so much for reading!! Please consider giving this a reblog and check out the other works for these two if you have time!

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#ockiss24 #oc kiss week #samdom #ocs aweigh #goth babygirl dom #ough trying not to feel self-conscious about posting this one #niko's notes

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alicewonderao3 · 1 year ago

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Rumor Has It

Title: Rumor Has It

Summary: Haley can't believe that Aaron's dating someone, let alone dating her for six months. She wants to know why she hasn't met her yet, and confronts him, but what happens when she finds out something she wasn't expecting?

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Haley Hotchner, (Ex-wife), OC female character. Jack Hotchner.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x OC female character

Word count: 1,729

Authors note: So, this is another song fic. I heard this song and couldn't help but think of what would have happened if Aaron had dated someone else and Haley found out that he loved this new girlfriend of his. This is from the prospective of the new girlfriend and then Haley's at the end. I have no beta, so all spelling and grammar mistakes are mine, and I don't own Criminal minds or the lyrics to the Reba song at the end. Let me know what you think. Enjoy!

Warnings: None, mentions of cheating. *I know we technically don't know if Haley cheated on Aaron, but for this story, that's what I'm suggesting.

I'd been seeing Aaron for a few weeks now. He was funny and gorgeous, and once you got past the often cold expressions he wore, he had such a reserve of warmth under it. We'd met at a parent's night, my niece attending the same school as his son, Jack. I'd given him my number and gone on my way, and when he called, we started dating.

I knew he'd been married before, he'd been very upfront about it. His ex-wife, Haley, was active with Jack, although I hadn't met her yet. Aaron said the time wasn't right, and we enjoyed each other's company when he wasn't gone on cases.

I knew he was working late one night and went to drop by with dinner for him, Morgan being kind enough to let me in. I slowly approached Aaron's office, stopping only when I heard his voice and another one. I knew it had to be Haley's, simply by the frustrated tone in Aaron's voice.

The office was mostly empty, and so no one noticed me as I heard Aaron and Haley speaking to each other. He was frustrated and she seemed upset almost. It was Haley's voice I heard first. "Why won't you let me meet her, Aaron? She's met Jack, she should meet me."

I hear Aaron sigh, and I know he's making that face. His voice is tight, clipped. "Because it's not time, Haley. And it's none of your business anyway." He adds although I heard the quiet sound of frustration that leaves him when Haley says, "But it is, Aaron. She's around our son. I need to make sure she's a good person."

Aaron's voice is sharp. "Do you have a problem with my judgment, Haley?" There's this silence between them, and I hear Haley say. "You know I don't, Aaron." Then his voice again, frustrated, angry almost. "You do if you're questioning Alice's character. She's wonderful, and she and Jack get along well. It's just not the right time for you two to meet."

Haley's voice grows frustrated at that, "Oh, forgive me for questioning Alice's character." There is a sarcastic note to her tone, and I hear Aaron set down a file, I know he's angry now, I can hear it in his voice. "She's a good woman, Haley. She's kind and smart and she and Jack get along. Why are you pressing the issue? What's the real reason you want to meet her?"

There's a silence, and Haley says, "No reason. I just thought it was time. How long have you been dating, Aaron, or is too hard to remember?" I hear the dig at him, knowing Haley hated the nights he was gone, the anniversaries he missed because of work, the old hurts from their divorce taking over the conversation again as they both aired old hurts and arguments.

Aaron's voice is sharp as he says, "If you must know, Haley, we've been seeing each other for almost 6 months now." I can hear the surprise in Haley's tone, and if I could see her face, I imagine I'd see it on her face. "You've been seeing this woman for six months and don't think it's time for me to meet her?" I hear Aaron's angry tone, "No, I don't. And it's none of your business why, so don't ask."

But she asks, and they go around and around again in more pointless arguing. I'm about to step away when I hear Haley say, a chuckle in her tone, her voice angry. "The only reason you'd be defending her like this is if you loved her, Aaron." There is this silence, and outside his office, my heart skips a beat. Aaron and I hadn't said those words to each other yet.

I'd felt them, sure, but hadn't been brave enough to tell him how my heart skipped a beat every time I saw him, or how I enjoyed our movie nights with Jack. But it was there, in the texts I sent when he was gone on cases, in how I attended all of Jack's soccer games, his plays everything. I tune back in to hear Haley's shocked voice, surprise laced through her tone. "You can't possibly love her Aaron. No, it's not true."

Aaron's silence speaks volumes. I know the expression he has on his face, and he says, in a tone that clearly says he does love me, "It's none of your business, Haley, so drop it. You said you left Jack with Garcia, and I'm gonna go fetch him." His tone is brisk, and cold as he speaks to hear.

Haley's voice rings out with surprise and hurt as she says, "You do. You love her, already? How? Why?" Aaron doesn't answer her, except to tell her that it's none of her business who he loves anymore. "We're divorced, Haley. You've moved on, and now it's my turn. Let me be happy."

I hear Haley's angry laugh. "Happy is one thing, Aaron, loving another woman a year after our divorce is another thing entirely." This is when I hear Aaron get angrier, if possible. "Did you think I'd sit and pine over you forever, Haley?" There's a silence that follows his question and I hear him scoff. "Fine, since you wanna know the truth, let me tell you the truth, Haley."

I freeze, and my mind tells me to leave, to go away, that I shouldn't be standing here listening to this in the first place but I can't move my feet. Aaron's voice is sharp, frustrated, "Yes, I love her Haley. Alice makes me feel important. She listens to me and brings me dinner when I work late. She's kind and special and I'm grateful she's in my life."

I hear some kind of noise leave Haley but Aaron continues, "She doesn't toy with my emotions and most of all," I hear Aaron's voice drop here, and something tells me this is a low blow, especially by the way Haley's breath catches. "She doesn't cheat on me, Haley."

Silence reigns. Aaron never told me how it ended, but hearing that leave his lips made my heart break for him. It explained so many things, the way he'd always check in on me, the way he always tugged me closer when other men checked me out while we were on dates. He was afraid I'd do to him what Haley had done.

Aaron speaks again, and his tone is no less angry or cold. "I love her, Haley. I love Alice, and I'd like to tell her before she meets you." Haley is silent, and when she speaks, I hear the anger in her tone. "First of all, Aaron, I could care less if you love her." Aaron scoffs, "You do if you're here asking me about it."

There's more silence, and Haley's voice is angry. "Fine. Jack is with Garcia. I don't care about your little girlfriend, Aaron. This relationship of yours won't last long anyway, once Alice learns how little time you have for her." I hear her footsteps get closer to the door and I barely manage to hide as she leaves, going to get Jack for Aaron.

I give him a few seconds to calm down before I walk over to his door, knocking softly. "Hey, Aaron, got a second for me?" I push it open, watching as he smiles softly at me. "For you? Always," He says, and I set the plate down and act like I didn't just hear him tell his ex-wife that he loved me.

He thanks me for dinner and then pulls me into a hug, holding me against him. I don't question him, I just let him hold me. For several long seconds, we're both silent. "What's wrong?" I ask, deciding to see how much he'll tell me. I hear him sigh and feel how he tugs me closer, almost as if he's debating that very question in his mind.

I expect him to brush me off, so it surprises me when he tells me what's wrong, his voice soft as he sort of explains his argument with Haley, leaving out the part where he mentions he loves me. I offer up what little advice I can think of, but mostly just let him ramble as he holds me.

He pulls back to look down at me, his expression soft as he tucks a dark curl behind my ear. The words leave him so effortlessly, they still hit me with the same shock value as they had outside his door. "I love you," He whispers to me and my breath catches a moment, my soft eyes staring up at him, my heart beating wildly in my chest.

"I love you too," I whisper, holding his gaze, searching his eyes, and finding the truth reflected as he looked at me. He leans in and kisses me, his lips soft and sweet against mine, as I melt in his arms, only parting from me as Jack runs in, his voice excited as he spots me. I hug him, not realizing Haley is outside the door.

Outside Aaron's office, Haley watches with an ache in her heart as Aaron greets Alice when she walks in. She's pretty, she has to admit, with her honey-colored eyes and dark hair. She watches him hug her, and then he tells her. He tells her he loves her. She watches Alice's breath catch, as the two stare up at each other with love in their eyes before he kisses her.

But it's the way he does it, cupping her face in his hands, holding her as if she's the most precious thing in the world to him, that breaks her heart, pieces shattering on the ground like a broken vase, sending Jack in to greet Aaron through the film of tears that form over her face. She watches Jack greet Alice, but can't do anything but feel her heartbreak. She thought Aaron would love her forever. But watching him profess his love to another woman makes her ache in a way she hadn't expected to feel a year out of their divorce.

"Oh, Rumor has it. She has you. Rumor has it, you love her too. Oh, talk is cheap but the price is high when it's true. Oh, rumor has it, she has you."

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner imagine #sort of a song fic #if you squint

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feralkwe · 6 months ago

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I'm a hypocrite because I'm not taking stars myself, but also I can't get to your pinned so I can't pick from your fic list

🌟

it's weird because i had trouble getting to yours and yamisnuffles' pinned posts as well. here's mine for anyone's convenience.

i guess i'll give into recency bias and blather about we belong (ugh i'm still unhappy with the title i chose, but i was ripping my hair out and then the pat benatar song by the same name came on, so...). the plan is less a cohesive chaptered fic and more a collection within a collection that has a (ostensibly) coherent timeline. i didn't want to make a new collection/series, and i don't want to take down the old one-shots because it's important to me to see how i've grown and improved in writing for ffxiv fandom. this fic is a bit of a labor of love. i don't expect anyone not a close friend to actually read it (so ty to anyone who has so far!) since it's just me working out my self-indulgent ot3 urianger/wol/thancred timeline.

i knew pretty early on in arr that kit was going to go for urianger. it still frustrates me that i can't figure out why, but she pointed and said 'that one' almost immediately. i knew despite all the starts and stops they'd pull off a relationship eventually, i just did not know how, when, or even where. somewhere in early endwalker they're together. it happened? i have to figure out the details.

and then, despite my best efforts in defiance of yamisnuffles' warnings that it would happen, thancred ended up there, too? it cannot be overstated how much i did not want this to happen, but it did. suddenly he was there and he and kit grief-boned it out for awhile due to reasons i won't elaborate on because idk how spoiled you are or are not and if you ever intend to play the game again. suffice to say i was suddenly faced with the task of walking it back to find out when the heck he decided he wanted to be with kit as well.

somehow the three of them wound up together and happy (for a very short time now that i've demolished it because of my pandaemonium fic, please please dawntrail help me fix it!). we belong is me sorting it all out, picking through the plot and events, and putting it all together so, if nothing else, i know when things happened and can go back and squeal and kick my feet over the squishy moments and cry at the dramatic ones. no small feat, as game time bubble phenomenon makes saying this game has a cohesive timeline generous at best, but i'm determined, and really, i just want to write this story because i love them so much.

anyway, thanks for the star! we all deserve to be self-indulgent once in awhile, and i love talking about kit.

#ask memes #from the annals of my askholebox #brennacedria #ffxiv #kit hareington

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elizabethshaw · 7 months ago

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20 questions for writers

i was tagged by @riversofmars (thank you!!)... feel like a little bit of a fraud doing this as i've had major writer's block for nearly two years now and have written virtually nothing during that time, but i'm gonna give it a go anyway 😅

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

14 :))

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

46,344

3. What fandoms do you write for?

doctor who! mostly leaning towards dweu/big finish stuff but i've written some new who fic as well in the past. (i've also been wanting to write something for the pleasant green universe audio series for a while now but as my major fixations on it have all coincided with the aforementioned writer's block that... hasn't happened lmao)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Wy' ti'n dal i weld cysgodion yn y nos? (67 kudos)

in it together (23 kudos)

The Security Guard, The Scholar, And The Giant Stone Cube (22 kudos)

I Lie Awake And Watch It All (19 kudos)

og um vitt aldrin síggjast meir (18 kudos)

predictably, this includes all of the new who fics i've written, and (bar the third) almost none of the fics i'm actually most proud of lol 😅

(also feel a need to clarify here that the foreign-language titled fics are not actually in those languages, i just use song lyrics as titles a lot and for various reasons over half the music i listen to at any given moment is Not In English, hence the titles being as they are)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i try to! sometimes i'm a bit delayed with it (i know there's a couple i need to get around to answering rn but before today i hadn't been on my ao3 for... half a year at least?? so i'm a bit behind oops), but i like to get back to everyone who leaves a comment, just to say thanks :)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

probably hver fer sinn veg - it's set during "the war doctor begins", it was never going to be a happy one lol

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

gei di weld y byd mewn lliw, i think :)

8. Do you get hate on fic?

thankfully no! i've been lucky enough that my experience with fic writing/sharing has been very positive so far <3

9. Do you write smut?

no, it's not really my thing. smut is very honestly just kinda there to me, i don't have strong feelings about it either way, and so it's not something i've ever felt compelled to write yknow??

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

nope! i mainly prefer playing around with canon/canon-adjacent stuff tbh, i've got a couple of unfinished aus hanging around that will probably never see the light of day, but no crossovers that i can think of

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not as far as i'm aware. though to be fair, i don't venture onto fic websites other than ao3 so i'll never know for certain. i doubt it though

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

again, not as far as i know! i'd probably be chill with it though if anyone wanted to translate a fic of mine, provided they asked beforehand and it was one i was comfortable with being translated :)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope! the closest i've got is participating in an event run by a discord server i used to be mildly active in and am technically still part of, which was a lot of fun :D

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

i don't know if i really have an "all-time" favourite as such, but i've written a fair bit for liv and helen from the 8das, and really love their dynamic. i'm also a big fan of leela/romana, but for whatever reason i've never been quite able to make writing them work :/

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

there's a fair few 😅 the main one I can think of atm is the eldritch helen fic i vaguely remember being asked about on here a couple of years back, it's a concept that i still have a lot of interest in and love for, but i've never quite been able to get the fic itself to work and i fear it may be doomed to the wip pit for eternity :((

i've also got quite a few unfinished pieces of varying lengths with the war-veklin-albert tardis team from "the war doctor begins" hanging around my drive that i'd a) love to finish and b) probably won't; their dynamic and their whole deal as a team whose story takes place mostly off-screen and which we only see the ending of fascinates me. maybe one day i'll manage to do something with it

16. What are your writing strengths?

description :) this is the one thing i am ever consistently happy with in my writing (i am my own harshest critic <3), and i've got a couple of nice comments about it before. so!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

dialogue - even with characters i know well and whose voices i have clear in my head, i do find it difficult to make dialogue feel really authentic, and it's definitely something i tend to overly fixate on when i'm writing because i'm so conscious of wanting to get it right

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i'm totally fine with it! as long as it has a reason for being in the story, and isn't like. getting in the way of readers understanding what's going on, i don't see the problem.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

doctor who :)

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

it's probably a tie between The Security Guard, The Scholar, And The Giant Stone Cube (a fic i wrote back in 2021 based on this post about rory and helen theoretically being able to meet each other at the national museum during the pandorica arc, which i loved writing and am still really happy with nearly 3 years later), and mae cuddio dagrau yn fy ngwaed (a bit of a weirder/darker dreamscape-type story; it took a lot of puzzling things out to piece all the different parts together to make something that was cohesive but still felt strange or off in the way dreams do, but i was really pleased with the end result!)

can't think of anyone to tag off the top of my head who hasn't been tagged already, so i'll leave this free for anyone to take part if they want to! :)

#tag game #thanks again for the tag!!#feels a bit odd posting about my writing on here as i don't do it all that often but this was fun!! nice looking back on everything :)

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captainaikus · 2 years ago

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NO cause I wanna say thank you for tagging me in that Bachira gif 🥹🥹. I was literally just minding my own business 2 days ago and then BOOM that one specific Bachira clip start looping in my head and I became deceased on the spot 💀💀😭. AND I SERIOUSLY COULDNT FIND IT ANYWHERE I was so upset and then you being the angel you are just proceed to casually tag me with the exact post 😭😭😭. The way I wanted to tackle you in hugs at that moment asdfjkgffghjjhn ❤️❤️❤️. ALSO see there’s a reason I specifically avoid talking abt yandere Bachira because I know once I do then I’m just going to go phoosh and perish. Like I cannot even begin to think abt yandere Bachira or else I’d never leave that rabbit hole. That is too strong a concept for me to handle💀💀😭.

OH HO HO yandere one-shots you say?? 👀👀 I look forward to it 😌😌. Also you don’t have to apologize abt taking a bit to get to asks especially not mine it’s okay love I know you’ve been busy get to asks when you can. Rest and don’t overwork yourself okay? NO because the way Reo would actually be the worst/best yandere out of all of them. And that’s REALLY saying something considering the show is literally abt yandere soccer players 😭😭🤚🏼. Itoshi brothers are in no question yanderes literally both would be insane abt you.

Is figuring out ao3 going well? I adore ao3 so much everything so chill there and it’s super easy to navigate and the way I’ve found almost all my favorite fics on there *eyes the 500+ tabs I have open simply for ao3* Thevisername sounds very interesting. Did you make it up on the spot or is there a meaning behind it? I’m just curious.

How’s the second part of the Oliver coming along? Don’t push yourself into writing more than you can handle alright? Short and sweet is great too. Extending it to 7 parts sounds like a great idea. It’ll allow you to take your time and fresh out everything more. No cause I’m scared now that you said you cried writing part 2 😭💀💀. ALSO!!! YESSS A PLAYLIST OR SONGS FOR EACH CHAPTER TO SET THE MOOD WOULD BE AMAZING. I always love it when writers go out of their way to choose a song for their fic it just makes it a whole experience and I adore finding new songs through it.

How are you? How’s uni? Did you finish getting through those ancient textbooks? OH AND HAVE YOU SEEN THE COVER FOR VOLUME 31 FOR TR????? I tagged you in a post freaking out abt it but I don’t think you saw it 😭😭. Tumblr enough is enough 😐😐. Also I might have a solution for the tagging problem. I turned on tumblr notifications on my phone and I’ve been getting the activity and tags and messages and stuff now so maybe you could try that. Anyways. I hope you’re having a great day and that you sleep well!! *sends many tackle virtual hugs*

- ✨ anon

*me sees Bachira gif* *clicks like* *tags you cause I knew you were gonna like it* Bachira just hits different when he... looks like that. *is getting ideas to write*

Ego made them yandere footballers. I can imagine if they are that passionate behind a ball, how passionate they would be behind a person... it would be terrifying but the yandere impulses are just. 🤌🏻✨ I- I have tabs open cause of fics that I like reading on ao3; still figuring it out, gotta wait like a week or something to change the username again and by that time i should be able to finish writing part 2 and a yandere oneshot - The username is actually gonna away spoilers for part 3 to Oliver's series based on a song that I grew up with. So you'll find out when the time comes As for the second part to the Aiku series... its going the way i want to... and it got emotional for me; you're gonna see why too *doesn't want to spoil part 2 cause there are so many things coming* And then while I was writing, there was more routes open in my head so i plan on keeping the actual plot upto less than 10 parts - but the number of chapters shows '?' on ao3 cause then I can make spinoffs on the series the title of the chapters for the series is based on songs- that remind me of the chapter and describes the plot of it in a rhythm and lyrics. I'm doing good! Binging childhood movies and series, uni's been annoying *has to do a secret santa and i managed to get the guy that no one likes - for good reasons too cause i gave him enough of chances and he wasted them. and i think he's being nice to me cause he wants me to get him what he wants for christmas... his present is coal. Santa told me to do it.* i took a break from the dusty books. didn't touch em for 3 days now oh... you tagged me? I'll take a look into it. Tumblr sent me a congrats post of getting 50 likes. me - tags post : # tumblr stfu, # i've done better than this, # rubbing it in my face first thing in the morning. *clicks post*, *receives* - oops, something must have goofed up. ao3 here i come *sending funny mood panels and big hugs*

Oliver, this is us about you - ಠ_ಠ

#belle.☏#.moot🍦: ✨ anon

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ao3feed-newsies · 7 months ago

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my jealousy jealousy (started following me)

by, melancholyofmineown by melancholyofmineown David Jacobs would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t despise Jack for it, just a little bit. He put just as much work in yet got half the results of the other boy. He was so tired of being compared to him by people at the academy. It was fucking New York City, couldn’t they find a different tennis prodigy to compare him to? One that wasn’t the friend he almost had? David Jacobs has spent most of his tennis career so far jealous of Jack Kelly. And now he's dealing with the emotions that come with having to play him at a Grand Slam. Words: 663, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 1 of painting the lines (newsies tennis au) Fandoms: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken, Newsies: The Broadway Musical! (2017), Newsies (1992) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: David Jacobs, Jack Kelly (mentioned), Mayer Jacobs (mentioned) Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly (unrequited) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sports, Alternate Universe - Tennis, Gay David Jacobs, Jealous David Jacobs, David Jacobs-centric, Secret Crush, Australian Open, US Open, Title from an Olivia Rodrigo Song, My First AO3 Post, pls be nice to me thanks in advance, based more on the musical cast(s) than 92sies, i've been writing this au since october 2022, i just checked the date i started writing this, and i think this idea happened because two faves of mine were playing in a final together lol, this was originally part of a 5+1 fic, so if it feels short that's why, anyways mike faist in a tennis movie felt like the right time to finally start sharing this, am i using the additional tags section right read : https://ift.tt/PrsNZoY - April 28, 2024 at 12:03AM

#AO3feed #newsies #fanfic #newsies fanfic

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s4kasaki · 3 years ago

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hi i love ur blog 🥺 may i request a jun fic whereby the reader made a personal playlist to remind them of him and jun finds out about it and how he would react? thank u in advance 🤍

this is so cute omgawd? Jun is so underrated, I am the new junP's safe place~! •́ ‿ ,•̀

♡ — musical feeling dilemma.

‣ tws/cws: none

‣ reader: gender neutral - they/them

‣ author's note: I'm proud of this one tbh, you can tell I worked on it hARD

you’ve been friends with Jun for a while now, hanging out with him was your peak ideal of an interesting time nowadays, after a long day of work. Playing video games together was a thing you enjoyed taking part in every free time/weekend, winning against him and seeing his priceless expression afterward, and the way he congrats you on beating him (for once) is an unforgettable memory you two can look back on. “ha! I'm surprised, you’ve gotten better since the first time we played together” though, you’d be fabricating if you said you didn’t miss him when he was either pulled away by Hiyori or had important businesses he had to attend alongside Eden all of a sudden.

It was 10 in the evening, you were already clocked out for the day by lucky chance: it felt like a miracle, a too good to be true one. And even despite your numerous insistence that you'll be fine walking back home by your lonesome, jun always assists you by calling a ride for you or simply walking with you to enjoy the last minutes together.

“I could've walked by myself you know, it's not like I'm an idol like you.” You reminded him, and your shoulders rising to the laughter that snuck into your throat.

“Hah, you made a point, doncha think?” he chuckled, shaking his head, “but, if people were to see you with me in public. Hiyori's probably gonna be a baby about it.” he began gritting his teeth already in the thought of it. “So I rather not even give him an opening for it, not to mention we have to go abroad again soon.”

Your eyes narrow, giving him your everyday million-dollar smile full of uncertainty, another trip? “Another important trip to attend? So suddenly? Guess that's an idol's life for you.” Releasing a burst of fake laughter to cleanse the silence shared between the two of you which Jun took part in “Yea' it's a hell-load stressful.” He chuckled softly, his reflections asking him if that was a topic to keep the conversation going with.

Then an idea came to mind, music: surely that could clear the atmosphere surrounding the two of you. “Hey, can I use your phone? to listen to some tunes, hah... Mine is out of juice.” his hands made their way to the back of his neck in embarrassment, his music taste was really ... Good, but isn't that what to anticipate from somebody so cool like himself? “I have AirPods, we can share them.” You nod and "Okay", handing over your phone and getting one of his AirPods in return. Sure, It would be fine! He wouldn't notice your playlist that was directly filled with songs that matched how you glimpsed him, it didn't have his name as the title or even had him as the cover of the playlist. It was just a single heart. And to your dismay, he ended up selecting everyone out of all the playlists you'd organized. “aha! We have extremely similar taste in music, I see you know your stuff.”

Confused about his statement, you turn to look at him anyway, with the million-dollar smile you pull with him all the time while listening to the song play, the music vibrating in your ear; clearly, that's when it hits you properly. it's his playlist, the state of panic was quick to creep on you, what if he found it weird? It only takes one button to look at the description of the playlist that had his name written on it. He was staring quite hard at your phone screen, so it added up to the suspicion he had noticed it... and he did, you'd be lying if you weren't embarrassed to the bitter core when he asked; “Hey? What's up with this playlist, it has my name on it, is it dedicated to me or something? Were you planning on me to listen to it?” he grinned.

“No, I was just— I thought making a playlist that reminded me of you was something all friends did... to be sympathetic” What an absurd answer to come up with but by luck, which must've been in your favor because your house was right up the street and there wasn't much need to say a word anymore besides the sound of silence and crickets “T—This is my stop, Jun!” you say, reluctantly pointing to the building next to your left still flustered, yet he still seemed unphased.

“Oh— alright. I'll see you soon— I guess? I'll call you while I'm aboard so maybe sooner than you'd expect~♪” he lets out a laugh, and honestly, there wouldn't be anything more to him than you offering him to stay for the night before he leaves, and not just to make a tease of you for what he saw — and he says, with the way he constantly does with everything and with that exact smug grin, “And, the Spotify thing. it's sweet in a sense... Itttttt's so you won't miss me rightttt? I think I so.”

As you look to the ground, his final words of the day being so unbelievable to believe in this type of situation, it makes you flush to a pink shade in an instant

“I think I'd like to spend the rest of the time that I have today with you, before I leave tomorrow☆ let's go, we have video games to play~!”

#THIS took longer than it should HAVE IT (╥﹏╥)#꒰ 🌸;; fics ̖́-#jun sazanami #jun sazanami x reader #enstars #enstars x reader #ensemble stars #ensemble stars x reader #enstars imagine #enstars imagines #ensemble stars imagine #ensemble stars imagines #sazanami jun

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ink-system · 2 years ago

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the poem of patroclus

im so sorry this isnt a mcyt fic i just kinda lost my hyperfixation for it but i finally got out of my writers block so heres a fic i wrote in 1 hour at 11pm

cw: su*cide, grief, death (let me know if i need to add anymore)

a/n: guess who finally finished reading the song of achilles and has a hyperfixation on it now?!?!??!?! anyways have achilles’ perspective of patroclus’ death with how i think it would have went :]

word count: 1037

I have been through so much pain in my life. Mentally and physically, I am a warrior after all. Aristos achaion. The best of the Greeks. However, no pain, no title, absolutely nothing could have possibly prepared me for this. The overwhelming pain that consumed my entire being, swallowing me whole, eating away at my smile, my laugh, even my will to live. Especially my will to live.

The pain, no- there was no singular word to describe what I am feeling. The absolute heart wrenching, world ending, all consuming feelings I am drowning in. The feelings that are begging me to let go, to just sink to the bottom and give up. There was no use in fighting anymore. No use in running. The one thing I live for is gone. The love of my life. My first and only love. The last love I would ever have, gone.

Patroclus was really, truly gone.

No one could bring him back. No matter how much I begged, pleaded, or screamed to take his place, nothing. No god or goddess would even listen to my screaming prayers, let alone answer them. They would ignore my agony, my all consuming grief.

Patroclus was really, truly gone.

All this pain, just over a stupid title. My stupid pride. Maybe if I had been less prideful I wouldn’t be feeling the crushing pain I had been feeling for what felt like years. Maybe if I had just continued to fight for Agamemnon, continued to fight for my people, Patroclus would still be here. If I had listened to Phoenix, or Odysseus, or… Patroclus, he would still be here.

It had been my own hubris that caused the love of my life to leave me all too soon. I was blinded by my ego and flown far too close to the sun. Except instead of my wings melting, it had been Patroclus’ wings.

It didn’t seem fair. Patroclus’ life for mine.

Patroclus’ life for my own arrogance.

It should have been my downfall, not Patroclus’.

“He died a hero!” Everyone cried to me. The love of my life died doing what I couldn’t.

Be a hero.

The worst pain (although that didn’t even begin to describe what I was experiencing) I had ever felt, all because of one slight from Agamemnon. The torturous feeling that never seemed to lessen, only grow the longer I go without my other half, all because of my pride. My arrogance. My vanity.

The second half of my soul, missing. I have never felt more empty. All I could do was hold his body. Pretend he’s only sleeping, ready to wake up at any moment.

When I had gotten the news, the only thing I could do was hold him. Hold him before I was gone too. Hold him until we are together again. Until I had the second half of my soul back. Until he had his.

I hadn’t eaten, hadn’t drank, or spoken anything except his name. For hours, possibly days (time went by so slowly without Patroclus by my side, it was hard to keep track anymore) I screamed for him. Screamed until my voice was gone, then continuing. No amount of physical pain would ever compare to the waves of agony that never ceased their motion, crashing down onto me in a never ending cycle. No relief. Only the constant reminder of what I had lost. Of what I had caused to happen.

The only miniscule moments of relief I get are fitful, restless sleeps. Sleeps with nightmares of Patroclus calling out for me, begging for me to save him, only for me to be too late. Of waking up to save him, only to find his corpse next to me, my head on his stomach, covering the wound that killed him.

During my fitful naps, it’s easier to pretend Patroclus is sleeping next to me. That we’re holding each other close, just like we used to do in Chiron’s cave. Gods, I would do anything to go back to those days.

The childish innocence and naivety, the hopefulness, moments so full of love and passion, yet still so inexperienced. Experiencing the world together without the harsh realities having yet struck us. Young, innocent love that we were so certain would last.

I suppose it did last, just not in the way we had hoped. I still loved him as much as I did when we were teens, and I hope he felt the same.

We had spoken so much of our future plans, of what we were going to do together. Our elaborate, unrealistic adventures we would go on together, the fun we would have, the sights we would see, people we would save. All for naught.

Perhaps we could do these things together after death. Be happy together in the afterlife, our ashes mixed together, forever one. We could never be apart again.

Our souls forever combined, forever together, forever unchanging.

With one last sigh I stood up, looking around the tent we had shared for years. A few moments of glancing around in the dimness, I found what I had been looking for. The sword Patroclus had been using while he had died.

My sword. The one I had given him to fight my battles with.

With a shaky sob, I turned the sword around, plunging the blade into my stomach, the same wound he had inflicted onto him because of me. Our last moments would be the same, except his would be remembered as heroic.

I sank to the floor, a smile on my face. We would never be apart again.

*****

As I opened my eyes once again, I smiled upon seeing the Underworld. We were ready to be together again.

Mindlessly wandering around for what felt like hours, I found him sitting on a rock, looking up at the sky.

Patroclus. My second half.

Smile widening beyond what I felt was possible, I sprinted towards him as fast as I could, not bearing being apart for another moment. I finally reached him, tackling him to the ground like when we were kids.

‘Hello, Patroclus. I’ve missed you’

He smiled gently at me, ‘Hello, Achilles. I’ve missed you too.’

#the song of achilles #achilles #achilles x patroclus #achilles come down #patroclus #tso #tsoa spoilers #tsoa achilles #tsoa patroclus #tsoa patrochilles #madeline miller #patrochilles

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adorethedistance · 4 years ago

Text

Tell Me Your Favorite Song - Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader High School!AU (18+)

JATP masterlist

Requested: Reader is in a shitty relationship and she hooks up with Owen before breaking up with her shitty boyfriend. Then the boyfriend goes to a show to win her back, and they're playing a song titled her name including the lyrics “I fucked your girlfriend”

Warnings: Smut, swearing, unhealthy relationship

Words: 3107

Summary: Your inattentive boyfriend is falling inferior to a certain drummer from your AP Lit class, who wants to get to know you better inside and out.

A/N: Despite being in high school, all characters in this fic are 18+. DNI IF YOU ARE NOT 18+. This is semi-self indulgent bc it was inspired by but not directly derived from a request so. This IS a part 1 and I will be writing more parts in the future. FEAR NOT!

Part 2

“Babe?” The sound of my boyfriend’s voice pulls me from my wandering thoughts. I thought I loved Peter but he doesn’t seem to really know me. We’ve been dating for almost eight months and he doesn’t really know what I like or don’t like to do, eat, wear, listen to--none of that stuff. At least not in the way a boyfriend should.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I ask, coming back to my senses.

“I was thinking… to celebrate your birthday on Sunday we could go catch that new movie ‘The Morgue’ and then go surfing afterward.”

“I don’t like scary movies,” I state for the fifth time since we’ve started dating.

“You don’t?”

“Yes. I’ve told you this before. And I don’t even own a surfboard.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m such a terrible boyfriend.”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“Forget it. I’ll see you at lunch,” he pulls his hand out of mine and storms off to first period, leaving me to walk to class alone. I’m standing in front of the entrance to Loz Feliz High, dumbstruck by the reaction my comment warranted. Does he really think he’s a terrible boyfriend because of what I said?

“Yikes. You okay?” Turning around, I see Owen Joyner. The rock and roll drummer of the band Radical Dreams, and the only person in my first period AP Lit class that has an A- other than myself.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure? He seemed pretty pissed that you didn’t wanna go surfing.”

“I guess he was… Wait, how did you know what we were talking about?” I ask pointedly. Owen sharply averts his gaze from mine, watching the passersby instead of having to look at me.

“Uh, wanna walk to class together?” I sigh out a laugh in response to his erratic behavior. I begin walking to class, setting the pace for the two of us.

“Did you do the reading last night?”

“No.” Owen smiles at my confession before responding.

“I didn’t either.”

“It’s not like she’ll know anyway. You and I bullshit better responses than other kids would give if they dedicated their lives to studying the passage.” My exaggeration makes Owen laugh so hard he nearly drops the pair of drumsticks I didn’t realize he was holding until now.

“That’s probably true. Hey, we have sixth period together, too...”

“That we do,” I confirm, although the rhyming was unintentional.

“If things are still weird with you and Peter after lunch, I can walk you out to your car.” A small smile destructs my previously confused expression. As he awaits my reply, Owen flashes me a nervous smile and I feel my face flush. I’ve never noticed how opalescent his teeth are. And I’ve never taken notice of the way dainty strands of his golden blonde hair flutter around his face. Or how his lashes eloquently frame his glassy green eyes. Or how soft his rosy cheeks and lips must be.

“I didn’t bring my car today, Peter gave me a ride.”

“Well, I can give you a ride if things are still weird?”

“...You can give me a ride even if things aren’t still weird.” And with that, I enter the classroom and find my seat in the middle row without sparing Owen a second glance.

This is wrong. I can’t fall for Owen. I can’t be falling for Owen. He’s gonna make it huge as a rockstar and I’m probably going to be stuck in a job based in LA for the rest of my life. I mean we still have to the end of high school if anything were to happen. No. Nothing is going to happen because I’m with peter and he loves me. I shouldn’t be flirting with anyone when I have a boyfriend who loves me... Does he love me?

The question lingers in my mind all throughout the next three periods when finally, the dreaded lunch period arrives. I enter the outdoor cafeteria seating and don’t hesitate as I strut toward my usual table. Peter and all his basketball friends are standing around the table but not sitting down.

“What’s going on?” I ask once I’m close enough for them to notice me.

“Y/n, Spud needs to go talk to coach, do you wanna come with us?”

“You all need to go?” Peter confirms and I’m skeptical of the entire starting team needing to go with, but I know when to pick my battles. Peter leans down to kiss my cheek before the bunch of them disappear into the crowded hallway. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

Sighing to myself, I set my backpack down on the table and fish out my lunch and homework. If I have to be alone might as well be productive. Halfway through the first question of my Lit packet, I hear a familiar voice to the right.

“Hey, Y/n!” Looking up from my homework, I spot Charlie as optimistic as ever.

“Hey.”

“I don’t know if you want to or not, but you should come sit with us. If you want.” He’s rambling but he’s adorable.

“Oh, I don’t wanna intrude-”

“You wouldn’t! It was actually Owen’s idea to invite you over!”

“But he sent you?”

“He was too nervous to ask, so I decided to do it for him.” The thought of Owen being nervous around me makes me smile for some reason. Maybe I’m too optimistic.

“Yeah. Okay. Give me a second to clean up and I’ll be right over.” Charlie nods and skips into a jog to head back to Radical Dreams’ usual table. I need to think of a conversation starter before heading over otherwise I’m just gonna be a silent, anxious mess and they’ll never invite me to sit with them ever again. No one cares to share their favorite holiday. I don’t know anyone with a favorite car brand. Oh. Duh! They’re musicians I can just ask about their music.

“Hey.”

“Y/n!” Jeremy and Taylor practically cheer when I arrive.

“Hey, guys.” Before I can bust out my premeditated conversation starter, Charlie jumps in to speak.

“What’s your favorite song, Y/n?” I’m a bit taken aback by his question, but I oblige and tell them my favorite song and why it’s my favorite song. All four of them smile and attentively listen to what I have to say. Halfway through my explanation, I trail off in a sense of shock. I can’t remember the last time anyone has cared this much about what I have to say. It makes me realize how fake the friends I have are. It also makes me realize that maybe I shouldn’t be withPeterafterall.

“You okay?”

“What? Yeah! I’m good, I just…”

“...Just what?” Owen asks when I trail off once more.

“I was just thinking is all.”

“About what?” Charlie asks after taking a bite of his food.

“Nothing. But as I was saying,” And once I continue telling them about my favorite song, I make the decision right then and there: I’m breaking up with Peter tomorrow. It’s Friday today so I can ask him to lunch tomorrow, and have the morning to figure out what I want to say… What do I want to say?

__________________________

It’s been about fifteen minutes since school ended and Owen still isn’t here. I’m sitting on the concrete stairs in front of the school, waiting, as a few freshman stragglers shuffle by to be picked up in their parents’ busted minivans.

As I decide I’m gonna give him a few more minutes and then I’m walking, Owen jogs around the corner and comes to a screeching stop, looking slightly panicked. When he sees me sitting on the centermost bench, his face softens and he sends me a happy smile. All of my previous negative energy is dissolved by the warm look Owen is showing me.

“Hey, I’m so sorry I’m late.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Charlie just needed a favor but we’re good now.”

“Cool.” Owen simply stares at me as he catches his breath, so I decide to head to the parking lot and have him follow. Otherwise, we’d never leave.

“What was the favor?”

“Huh?” he seems caught off guard by my question.

“Charlie. What was the favor he needed from you?”

“Oh. It’s nothing.” Owen then opens the passenger door to a silver prius, and ushers me into the seat. I’m a bit surprised by the gesture which is just another reminder for how downhill my relationship with Peter has gone.

I don’t live all that far from Los Feliz so it only takes a short while before we arrive at my house. Our conversation simmers into an antsy silence and the only sound in the car is the static of the radio we’ve both tuned out for the whole ride.

“We should hang out more.”

“Just the two us or would we invite the rest of the band?”

“Both,” I shrug carelessly, but secretly hope Owen understands I want to spend more time with him. As we’re sitting in the driveway, I recall my parents are both at work at the moment.

“...My parents aren’t home… if you wanted to hang out right now.” Please majestic powers from above, pull through.

“Okay.” Owen shuts off the ignition and we clamber out of his car, into my quaint LA home.

“Would you want to watch a movie or…?” I try and gauge what Owen wants to be entertained by.

“I was wondering if we could listen to your favorite song?” The idea practically melts my heart and I lead Owen upstairs to my bedroom. I haphazardly toss my backpack on the ground and begin digging through my electronics to find my speaker. As I try and turn it on, the power hub blinks red signifying it’s out of battery.

“Shit.”

“What’s up?”

“My speaker is dead.”

“It’s okay, we can just listen to it on my phone.”

“No, the phone speaker doesn’t perfectly balance the bassline with the melody,” I sigh, grasping at straws for a solution. “I guess we can use headphones.”

Plopping down on my neatly made bed--thank you morning Y/n-- Owen lays back to stare at my ceiling. Once I pull up the song, I hand Owen an earphone and lay down next to him to put the other earbud in my ear.

When I look at Owen, I see his eyes are closed. He’s really taking in the music. Nodding with the downbeat, the crease of his brows pinch with concentration. The amount of focus he’s putting into the song warms my heart, and at that moment I decide I need to break up with Peter ASAP. Picking up my phone, I unlock it and take a deep breath before opening my messages.

Hey let’s meet for dinner tomorrow evening to talk. I wanna be completely transparent and say I think we should break up, if you don’t want to talk that’s fine but I want to offer a space for you to get an explanation for why

Sent.

I set my phone back down on the bed. The end of the song prompts Owen to look at me with a smile.

“That was incredible.”

“Right? I love that song so much.”

“I think I do too. You’ll have to make me a playlist of all your favorite songs so I can get to know you even better.”

“Do you really want that?”

“Hell yeah. That was a slap.” I laugh at Owen’s word choice and sigh into a monotony of happiness.

“It’s pretty similar to the music that inspires Radical Dreams’ sound.”

“No way. I never realized how similar we might be after all.”

“Yeah... We’re, uh, we’re playing a set tomorrow at this little pub venue if you wanted to come?”

“That sounds like so much fun, I’d love to go!”

“Cool.” After a brief moment of staring into one another’s eyes, Owen breaks the silence that settled over my bedroom.

“Who were you texting?” Oh gosh.

“What?”

“I heard you send a message in the middle of the song, I was just wondering who it was.” Moment of truth I guess.

“That was, uhm… that was Peter.” Owen’s demeanor shifts from calm and content to rattled and confused.

“I see.”

“Yeah… I broke up with him… technically.”

“Technically?” he asks incredulously.

“I told him I wanted to break up. We’re talking out the details tomorrow over dinner.” Owen nods in understanding, but I can still see some gears turning in his brain.

“So, if you’re technically broken up… does that mean… can I- kiss you? Right now?”

“Yeah.”

A flurry of excitement swims around my stomach as Owen leans in to passionately kiss me. Our eyes flutter shut as we lean in, and once our lips connect, he brings a hand up to gently hold my chin between his thumb and his forefinger. The eagerness of the kiss is unrivaled as his lips move tenderly with mine. Bringing my hands up to hold the sides of his face, I deepen the kiss further. Owen adjusts himself on the bed and pulls me over to straddle his lap. Before I sit down, I’m kneeling with my legs on either side of his hips, causing him to tilt his head up to keep his mouth on mine. From this position of kissing Owen from above, I run my hands through his perfect hair, and he trails his hands from the sides of my waist, up the skin of my back, moving my shirt up in the process.

As his hands come back down my body to settle on my hips, he pulls me to sit down in his lap, fully pressing my clothed heat onto him. Owen sighs at the feeling and provides me with the opportunity to run my tongue against the curve of his lower lip. Humming a soft ‘wait’ into my mouth, we mutually break the kiss and I open my eyes at the same time as him.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asks, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the top of my exposed hipbone.

“Yes,” I whisper. And with that, I crawl off of Owen as the both of us frantically strip off our clothes. Two shirts and two pairs of jeans are piled on the floor beneath my bed, leaving us in only our underwear. My bra and panties don’t match today but they’re both cute on their own, so that’s a win more or less.

“You're gorgeous,” Owen sighs as he pulls me back in for another kiss. I move to take off my bra but Owen stops me. “Keep it.”

I don’t question his command but simply tangle one hand back into his hair, and drape the other over his toned shoulder. If being a drummer isn’t hot enough, the muscles you get from doing it are even hotter.

“Hold on,” I give Owen one last peck before slipping off the bed and digging into my discarded backpack. Opening the smallest compartment, I pull out a condom from my days of sneaking around in Peter’s car.

“You have condoms in your school bag? How naughty, Y/n.”

“Shut up,” I roll my eyes before joining Owen back on the bed. “At least I have condoms.”

“Bold of you to assume I don’t,” he quips back and flashes a teasing smile. I see Owen glance behind me for a brief moment which prompts me to question his gaze.

“What are you looking at?”

“I wanna fuck you facing that mirror.” I have to say I’m stunned by his boldness, but I’m turned on by it even more.

“You do?”

“Come here.” Pulling me into his line of sight, Owen settles behind me as we both face my floor mirror. Without breaking eye contact through our reflections, Owen slips one arm around my waist and brings the other to slowly pull down my soaking panties. Reaching down, he delicately slides a finger over my folds, and collects a bit of my arousal on the tip of his finger. Trailing the moisture upwards, he drags the wetness over the swell of my clit, rubbing the spot with a feather-light touch. I breathe out a moan and leans my head back to rest my head on his right shoulder. Now I understand why he’s got a hold of my torso: he knows exactly how to pleasure a girl and soon enough, I’ll need all the support I can get.

“See, I love this: the way I can control you with the lightest touch. But the real fun...” Rubbing his finger over my clit one last time, Owen slips his hand down further, and expertly slides his middle finger inside of me.

“The real fun starts here.” As he finishes his sentence, Owen curls his finger just right to stimulate the spot that has me crying out in pleasure. With his right arm still around my body, his left hand is back to rubbing my quivering pearl.

“This way I’ve got my light touch keeping you under my control, and-” he inserts his ring finger with his middle as they curl inside of me, “You’re completely helpless when I know how to use the inside clit.”

My breathing picks up and my soft moaning becomes repetitive like the melody to a love song.

“Open your eyes, baby. I want you to look in my eyes as you come undone.” I nearly finish at the sound of his words, but will my eyes to open, first catching a glimpse of my own euphoric appearance. I connect eyes with Owen. It takes a mere few seconds for the pleasure of his fingers to overtake me. When I finally finish, I reach down to force Owen to stop his movements over my swollen clit. His fingers still inside of me but he doesn’t take them out yet.

The aftershock of my orgasm lasts another few seconds and I don’t release Owen’s hand from my grasp. Not yet.

“Fuck.”

“Has Peter ever been able to make you cum like that?” He almost challenges. I can’t tell if it’s jealousy or arrogance but whatever it is, I’m enjoying it.

“No, he hasn’t,” I confirm just to boost his ego.

“Figures. See, I can tell because of the way your pussy is still pulsing.” The pointed read causes me to laugh humorlessly. More than anything, I’m embarrassed at how quickly I had come undone. Without warning, Owen removes his fingers which makes me yelp because the sensitivity has yet to subside.

“Ooh. Sensitive, are we?”

“Fuck you,” I spit, bitter with contempt.

“You will.”

***

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @yikesgillespie @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @dmcfarland1

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kai-writes-fan-fiction · 3 years ago

Note

hey! could you do something with bakugou where the reader came out to their family as non-binary and it ended badly? like for example, the mom starts crying and says shit like “how could you do this?” and the dad is just disappointed and makes jokes. super specific i know lol) i just imagine you coming to school the next day all depressed and bakugou confronts you about it, which is where you tell him the issue. he’s pissed, obviously. like boiling mad. though you’re not crying or anything and are dismissive about it when you say it, which legitimately wigs him out. but it gets better when he comes to your dorm later for cuddles. (sorry i’m just not someone i cry about something, so if you could have bakugou tell them it’s okay to but they just CANT, pls do) thx

BABY BOY LOOK SO CONFUSED I LOVE THIS GIF (not mine, of course! Complete credit to the creator :)

Author’s Announcement: “HEY BITCHES, BROS, AND NON-BINARY HOES!” -Adam, 2021, Sk8 the Infinity. (An anime I absolutely recommend! Watch it in the dub though, it’s far funnier than the sub :)

Heyo friends! I loved this request. I’m back and with a brand new fic. Just a disclaimer this fic deals with a lot of serious problems, including derealization and depersonalization, so please read at your own risk. You are responsible for the media that you consume. Although not a huge part of the story, as it’s very brief, I though it was important that I explicitly state that it happens. There is also a considerable amount of cussing lol. (Bakugo, obviously.) Anyway, I think that’s all I have to say for now. Remember my DMs are always open and free of judgment, so if you have something to talk about, don’t be afraid to hit me up! I love all of you and I hope you’re having a wonderful day/night and if you aren’t, I hope this fic might brighten it a bit. Requests are still open :)

P.S. This fic has a fun lil soundtrack I put together, and all the changes of music are marked through out the fic. If I figure it out, the songs will be linked. If I don’t, the titles and artists of the songs are stated. I’m just trying this out, you don’t have to do it, it’s only a little feeling-enhancing aid. :) Haply reading!

Word count: 3.5k (I want all of my fics to be a little longer and I really enjoyed this request :)

Warnings: The most brief description of Depersonalization/Derealization, cussing, angst, fluff, hurt comfort

Category: Hurt/comfort, fluff

Synopsis: Reader’s parents are not accepting of their gender identity, Bakugou comforts reader

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩

Fuck. Today had to be the worst day of your life.

It all started after months of mulling it over, tens of hours of research, and so many tears, you had finally come to feel comfortable in your skin. You knew being Non-Binary felt right; it was euphoric when you heard people using your new name rather than your dead one, not to mention your pronouns.

People at UA were so accepting, especially your classmates in 1-A. Your parents, however, not so much.

One day after class, nearing the one-month anniversary of coming out to your classmates, you decided that it was finally time to tell your parents.

You walked into the front door, greeting your cat as you set down your bag. You stepped into the living room to find your mother and father on the couch, deep in conversation.

“Mom? Dad? I thought I’d visit today, and I wanted to talk about something.” You sat across from your parents in an armchair, smiling as they turned their heads.

“Oh! (Y/D/N), we didn’t even hear you come in! We’re so happy to see you; we’ve missed you so much.” Your mom greeted, getting up from her place on the couch to wrap you in a hug.

Hearing your dead name made you feel uneasy, but you brushed it off and reciprocated your mother’s embrace.

“So, you said you had something you wanted to talk about?” Your father inquired as your mother took her place next to him on the sofa across from you.

“Yes! So, this is hard for me to word, and I need you guys to bear with me for a moment….” Your voice trailed off as your parents gave each other confused looks.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a really long time, and I’ve done tons and tons of research about this, and I just- I-“ You began to fiddle with your fingers as you looked down at the ground, already feeling the stares of judgment from your parents.

“Well, spit it out, kid!” Your father joked, trying to coax what you needed to say out of you and lighten the mood, but his words held malice.

You could hear the disappointment and annoyment already, or was it just your imagination? Possibly your fear of rejection?

“I think- no, I am- I’m- I’m non-binary, and I’d like for you to use they/them pronouns for me, and- and I- 'd like for you to call me (Y/N).” Your voice became softer and softer as you went on, as you felt weaker and more exposed than you ever had before.

Your eyes were still glued to the ground, but you could feel your parents staring daggers at you; you could feel your father get up, his figure looming over you. You heard a muted sniffle and then indistinguishable whispering from in front of you, coming from your mother.

“I- mom?” You whispered, looking up and meeting her teary eyes.

“How? How could you do this to us? This isn’t fair- you don’t know what you’re saying, (Y/N).” She whisper-yelled through tears.

“(Y/D/N), after all we’ve done for you, you simply still can’t abide by some of the easiest rules society has set for you? You’re either a boy or a girl- I’m so sick of this ‘respect my pronouns’ and ‘don’t assume my gender’ shit!” Your father yelled down at you; hand raised to slap you.

“(Y/D/N), you’re 15, and you are a (girl/boy), and you always will be. You can’t go around saying stupid shit like this! Do you know how it makes you look? How it makes us look like as your parents?” Your mother snarled, tears still falling from her eyes.

“This is the most ridiculous shit I probably have ever heard. This is some cry for attention! You are so self-righteous; I just can’t believe you anymore.” Your father pivoted on his heel, promptly exiting the living room with a huff.

How it made them look? You, the self-righteous one? Please, leave it to your parents to make this all about them. You were upset, angry even, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tears.

“I need to go. I have class tomorrow. Nice chat.” You hissed as you stood.

You could sense your mother’s eyes on your back as you left, hear her whimpers and sobs.

You swiftly grabbed your bag and exited your parent's house, still trying to process what had gone down.

How your parent's demeanor changed within a second, their judgmental stares and harsh words. They were your parents. Weren’t they supposed to support and love you? Wasn’t that your job? You felt a significant change in your mood as you began to walk back to your dorm, as you were sad and tired and just wanted to go to bed.

You entered your dorm’s common room a little past dinner, and everyone was assembled around the couches, talking about something you probably weren’t interested in. Any other day, however, you would’ve been eager to jump into the conversation.

“(Y/N)!” Mina yelled from across the room. “Where were you? They had shrimp tempura for dinner tonight; I know that’s your favorite!”

All heads of class 1-A turned to you, awaiting your answer. You really hoped no one would notice you, hoped you could just sneak by and up to your room.

You forced a smile and stood up straight, saying to Mina,

“I was just visiting my parents! I haven’t seen them since the dorm situation, and since I had time off, I thought I’d pay them a visit.”

“Hope you had fun!” Mina seemed satisfied with your answer as she turned back to her conversation with your classmates.

Feeling relieved no one pried further, you quickly marched up to the stairs, not stopping until you met your door.

Harshly shoving the key into the lock, you pushed open your door forcefully and then slammed it behind you. You threw your bag onto the ground and ran face-first into your bed, collapsing on the cozy surface.

You still couldn’t bring yourself to tears, however, even though you knew it was healthier to let it all out.

You lay face down on your mattress for nearly 30 minutes before your phone chimed, alerting you of a text.

You rolled your eyes and flipped your phone up, staring at the name of the person who messaged you- ‘mom.’

She had texted you, probably to further ridicule and demean you; it was only like her. You couldn’t bring yourself to open her text, let alone open your phone, so you dropped it to the floor.

Feeling tired about the events of the day, you decided to pull up your blankets and sleep; maybe tomorrow would be better. You wouldn’t have to see your parents, and you were around people who accepted you for how you were.

☆*:.｡. Class 1-A P.O.V. .｡.:*☆

“I think something’s wrong with (Y/N); I could’ve sworn they spoke differently, seemed almost dismissive.” Midoriya blurted out mid-conversation.

Everyone except for you was downstairs in the common area, playing games and talking.

“What? Oh, they’re fine. I bet they’re just tired- they were out all night with their parents.” Mina responded half-heartedly, too engrossed in her game with Uraraka, Iida, and Sero.

“Yeah, I guess that could check out, but it feels like something more; I just don’t know, I mean, like, their demeanor… we have to look out for one another..” Midoriya kept mumbling onward, only the occasional sentence being coherent.

“Deku, just shut up. I’ll check on them tomorrow; just be quiet!” Bakugou hissed at Midoriya, whipping around in his seat.

Midoryia stared at Bakugou wide-eyed for a good minute before averting his gaze downward and turning away from Bakugou.

“Just butt out, dumbass.” Bakugou hissed.

“Chill out, man, he was just trying to look out for (Y/N). They did seem a little off tonight.” Kirishima whispered to Bakugou.

“Tch. It’s my job to check on them. Everyone just screw off!” Bakugou snarled, looking around the room.

All eyes were on him at this point, and so he made an impromptu leave.

“I’m going to bed.” He growled before getting up and heading to his dorm.

Although it didn’t seem so, Bakugou was probably the most worried about you. He could tell your behavior was off, meaning something probably went awry at your parents.

He knew it was unlike you to “burden others with your problems,” as you put it, meaning you wouldn’t talk to anyone about what happened.

He also knew he needed to leave you alone, but he’d check on you tomorrow. You needed rest.

☆*:.｡. The next day, your P.O.V.. .｡.:*☆

You awoke early the next morning, not feeling any more rested and relaxed as you had the previous night.

You hadn’t fallen asleep until four in the morning, and nowhere you were, waking up at seven for class. You couldn’t sleep because your adrenaline was still pumping, and you were still processing what had happened. Had it all been a bad dream?

You dragged yourself out of bed and threw your rumpled uniform from yesterday on after slathering a shit-ton of deodorant all over you. You skipped brushing your teeth and grabbed a simple protein bar for breakfast before grabbing your bag and heading out the door, fighting with your hair along the way.

You slumped down at your desk and instinctively pulling out your phone, scrolling through social media idely.

Bakugou entered the classroom soon after, his eyes making their way over to your figure. He made note of your wrinkled appearance and unruly hair, as well as your “don’t approach me, I don’t want to talk” stance.

He grimaced before sitting down in his own seat, casting glances over at you; everyone in a while, Kirishima babbled on about some new interest of his.

“Bakogouuuu,” Kirishima hummed, snapping in front of Bakugou’s face.

“What do you want, shitty hair?” He growled, swatting at Kirishima’s hand.

“You’re staring at (Y/N). Is something up between the two of you? You know you can tell me.” Kirishima inquired.

Bakugou was going to give some smart assed answer about how it was none of Kirishima’s business. Still, before he could say anything, Mr. Aizawa walked into the classroom, looking as sleep deprived as ever.

“Sit down everyone. (Y/N), phone away.” He announced.

You huffed in response, but set your phone face down on your desk. Only then did Bakugou notice the dark circles under your eyes.

Class dragged on for seemingly days before lunch, and that’s when Bakugou finally approached you.

His eyes were soft and he looked concerned. Could he tell something had happened?

“Hey (Y/N). I’ve noticed you’ve been kinda quiet all day. Did something happen?” His question seemed genuine, his demeanor kind, which was very unlike him.

He gently set his hand on your shoulder, turning you carefully to face him.

“Yeah I’m fine, thanks. Nothing happened”. You shrugged his hand off your shoulder and sultured off, heading to a table with Uraraka and Midoryia.

Contrary to your wishes, Bakugou followed you and sat across from you. Both Midoryia and Uraraka stopped eating and just stared at him, confused as to why he’d sit with them.

He carried on as if what he was doing was completely normal, ignoring the gawks coming from all angles.

You stared him down, almost angry he cared this much.

“Katsuki, what do you want?” You hissed, still staring daggers.

“To know what’s up with you, dumbass.” He retorted without looking up from his food.

“If you guys wanna work out whatever’s going on, Uraraka and I can-“ Midoryia spoke timidly and was interrupted by Bakugou.

“Shut up you damn nerd! They’re obviously upset about something and neither one of you cared to ask!” He exclaimed, face contorting into one of frustration.

“Bakugou, I don’t wanna talk about it.” You sighed, “I’m going to my dorm. Please, don’t follow me.”

Bakugou looked hurt that you used his last name, you normally used his first. This signaled irritation and and that something was clearly wrong in your life.

You grabbed your untouched tray and then your food away, beelining to the dorms. Without your knowledge, Bakugou jumped up right behind you, following you.

You were intercepted by Bakugou right before the door, and he set both of his hands on your shoulders, staring into your eyes. Your gaze drifted downwards as you tried to pry his hands from where they rest. He tipped your chin up lightly, locking his eyes with your own.

“(Y/N), I wanna know what’s going on.”

You stopped your attempts at freeing yourself and finally gave in. He was clearly worried about you, and it wouldn’t help to just be ornery and hide everything.

“I- I came out. To my mother and father. It’s just that- they were- their reaction was less than desired. But I’m ok. I’ll get over it, it’s hot like I live there and soon I’ll be out of the house.”

He sighed and broke his eye contact with you, letting his arms fall slack against his sides.

You couldn’t read his expression, maybe he was just processing.

It was like a switch flipped in his head, he looked back up to you and narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw.

“You don’t deserve that, (Y/N). Whatever they did- whatever they said, they’re wrong. You’re perfect and valid, and- and- you’re beautiful just the way you are and for living your best life. It’s on them if they don’t accept you.”

“Thanks, I guess. I’m tired. Could you move?” You grimaced, struggling to move Bakugou out of the way of the door so you could go lay down.

His face changed into surprise, his mouth open to say something more until you finally managed to move him and forced yourself through the door, exiting the cafeteria.

Bakugou just stood there, frozen in place, watching your back as you walked off.

(Music starts here, start with “Spaceland” by Chloe Moriondo ✌︎('ω')✌︎)

You lay in your dorm room bed, staring up at the ceiling. You simply couldn’t feel, couldn’t stop replaying what had happened in your head. Your mother’s crying, your father’s screaming.

Were you not good enough?

Were you overthinking this?

Why couldn’t you just cry?

Were you lying to yourself? Maybe you were just cis, trying to get attention? No, you were being true to yourself, right?

You could feel yourself detaching from your body, nothing felt real. The music in the background of your room was slowly fading into nothingness.

(Music change to “Falling for U” by mxmtoon _(:3」z)_)

Then you heard three knocks on your door.

They frightened you but brought you back to yourself, back to your body.

You debated ignoring the person on the other side of the door, but your conscience told you to open the door, urging you to get up.

You sulked over to your door and found Bakugou, his eyes soft, features relaxed.

“Can I come in?” He whispered.

Although you were intimidated by his boldness, you felt a pang in your heart. He really cared, and so you stepped aside and allowed him entry.

He looked around for a few seconds, staying silent as you gently shut the door, watching him.

“Your room’s really pretty. You know that? You did a good job.” He praised you, which was so unlike him.

Who was this stranger in your room?

“Bakugou, you didn’t come into my room to look at my decor. What did you want?” You were still mildly frustrated about previous events, but your tone was soft.

You didn’t want to hurt his feelings or make him feel like you didn’t care from him yourself. You didn’t want him to think you took him or his feelings for granted.

“I was just thinking- tch. I was thinking that we could lie down for a minute together.” He looked down, obviously flustered.

The Katsuki Bakugou flustered and shy because of you?

Your face softened, all negative feelings about him melted away. He only meant well.

“‘Suki, I’d be happy to. Thank you.” You smiled for the first time in a few days.

He smiled with you and lay down on your bed, looking up at you to join him. He was thankful you had used the nickname fo him instead of his last name as a formality.

You lay facing him, looking into his ruby eyes. His head was propped up by one hand while the other was wrapped around you, pulling you closer into his chest.

You reached out and took hold of his shirt, pulling yourself closer to him, burying your face in his chest.

“Listen, I’m sorry about earlier,” He murmured into the crown of your head.

“‘S ok.” You mumbled into his chest.

“Y’know, ‘s ok to cry. I do it sometimes.” His tone was nurturing and gentle, he was almost inviting you to cry, but you just couldn’t.

“Thank you, but I just can’t right now.”

“That’s ok. Y’know I’m always here for you. Always, idiot.”

“I know.” You sniffled into his chest, pulling yourself even closer to him as he held you to him tighter.

(Music change to “Hope You Are Ok” by Jordy Chandra (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡ (hugs)

“Sleep, (Y/N). God knows you need it.”

“Thank you for coming ‘Suki.”

You allowed yourself to drift off into a restful slumber, lulled to sleep by Bakugou’s rythmic breathing and heartbeat and the soft pitter-patter of the starting rain outside.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).” Bakugou lightly kissed the crown of your head as he himself watched you sleep and listened to your breathing, giving into sleep himself.

The two of you held each other, sleeping together, until the morning.

That’s all for this story! Thank you guys for everything you’ve done for me. Sorry it takes me so long to write stuff, I do he slow. I started watching a few new anime’s that I’ve really enjoyed. If you guys want recommendations, send in an ask :)

Hope everyone reading is having a great day/night, and remember that you are loved and valued. You are perfect the way you are, however you indentify. You are valid, whether you’re cis, gay, straight, trans, a combination, anything. You are perfect and loved and beautiful. If you’re feeling sad sometimes, that’s ok too. It’s ok to let it out. Listen to some sad songs, cry, it’s ok. It’s healthy to let out emotion. Don’t let yourself be dragged down by negative forces in your life. The way people view you is their fault and their fault alone, if they don’t value you, they’re missing out. Everyone is individual and valid in their own ways. You are loved. I love you.

Carpe Diem, my love. <3

YOU READ SO FAR CONGRATS! Have a lil bonus convo between you and Bakugou after the snuggle-date :) IGNORE THE TIME ON MY PHONE I KNOW ITS 2 AM LEAVE ME ALONE

Thanks for reading this far! Have this blessed image :) (sorry I have the humor of a 12 year old child)

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grayintogreen · 3 years ago

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Critical Role Fic Masterlist [August 1st-August 31st]

WOOF. What a month. Not an exceptionally great one for Ye Olde Depression, but I guess I went the Hemmingway in dealing with it. I found a neat word tracking app, but I only started it midway through the month, but just from HALF the month, I racked up 50k+ words. ...Yeah.

Anyway! For the record, I’m separating out the flashfic featured in paper moon and tinsel stars here on my masterlist for ease of access for people who might only want to read specific ships/characters, since the anthology is, uh, poorly organized. I like titles. It’s a thing.

This was also the month of the Tombtaker Hostage Situation and 90% of my bad things happen bingo prompts. I’m doing Whumptober next month so maybe I’ll cool it on the dark stuff in September (probably not).

LET’S GET TO IT, SHALL WE?

SHIPPY FICS

Creecien (Cree/Lucien)

and the heat only goes where you tell it to go. (E, MIND THE TAGS, 4955 words). The Mighty Nein fail to beat the Tombtakers to Cognouza. It still doesn’t really go well for them. Also monsterfucking. But seriously, mind the tags. It’s dark.

he’ll never know how much you’ve done. (T, 2896 words). Cree and Lucien, pre-canon. Getting your wounds tended because you used Life Transference on your stupid asshole crush and he is an oblivious dick.

this story’s yours and this story’s mine. (G, 2679 words). Tinytakers!! Baby Cree has some deep-rooted psychological issues. Lucien is Lucien even at thirteen.

and i shall give you sparks that blaze as hot as any fire. (E, 3686 words) ‘Tis the month of Creecien smut. (No really). Cree’s wavering in the wake of the other Tombtakers’ deaths so Lucien bangs her in front of the Immensus Gate. WITH RELIGIOUS SYMBOLISM.

i need to touch a holy place. (E, 3546 words). I TOLD YOU. This is the missing sex scene from this church takes no conversions. I don’t know who the target audience for this is. I guess it’s me.

Widomauk (Mollymauk/Caleb)

i have been the source of all the troubles we have known. (T, 3508 words). Molly comes back after the fight with Lucien and he’s not okay. At all.

and he’ll laugh when your troubles are gone. (G, 2613 words). Caleb and Molly go to a flea market. IT’S JUST SHAMELESS FLUFF. I CAN WRITE THAT SOMETIMES.

Lucigast (Lucien/Caleb)

guard your eggshell heart. (T, 1910 words). Part of the Earthquake Weather series. Scourgers get the jump on the Tombtakers and Lucien is none too pleased about it.

in the dreaming trees. (T, 2469 words) Part of the Earthquake Weather series. Caleb accidentally dreamshares in the Tombtaker Discord Chat and things escalate. You may see this one again, because I promised the porn continuation at some point. And I keep my promises.

the scourge of cabin boys and kings. (T, 2856 words) Part of the Earthquake Weather series. Caleb and Lucien discuss scars. And Lucien cannot get this damn wizard under his thumb.

Other Ships

spread your wings and show me quick. (G, 744 words) Astrid/Jester. Jester teaches Astrid how to ice skate.

mad science love song. (G, 808 words ) Yeza/Essek. Yeza asks for Essek’s help tinkering. Trust ensues.

GEN FICS

wounded in an accidental war. (T, 1348 words). Beau gets injured by Molly due to a wayward Charm Person. Bonding, guilt, and wound care ensues.

and the choir sings hallelujah to a god i will not observe. (T, 1999 words). Yasha gets left behind on Cognouza to deal with Lucien alone until the Mighty Nein can save her. Turns out she’s more than capable of ruining his day alone. (CW: Self-harm, ritual bloodletting)

by the flicker of their fire. (T, 1737 words) Another part of my TOTALLY ACCIDENTAL “Tombtaker Hostage Situation” series I ended up writing this month. Caleb gets left behind in 123. He’s a very disagreeable hostage.

what the promised land would promise me. (T, 3169 words). The Intuit Charge massacre from the Tombtakers’ perspective.

too rough for the soft way. (T, 2656 words). Beau and Lucien get snowed in and “bond.” Kinda.

but we’re so much more than that old, bitter law. (T, 1721 words). The Empire Siblings deal with the consequences of fighting power and oppression, but at least they have each other.

even the sky bleeds twilight. (T, 1927 words). In which Lucien murders Vess DeRogna. That’s it. That’s the fic.

against the devil’s own roulette. (T, 2860 words). Brand of Castigation is a bitch and now it’s Fjord’s turn for a Tombtaker Hostage Situation(TM). Good thing he’s good at honeypots. Kinda.

a generation sacrificed in self-defense. (T, 3230 words). Astrid asks Caleb and Beau to facilitate her taking back the night on Trent Ikithon without murdering him. Cue the torturerer getting a little bit of torture right back. And Astrid invents a new spell! Yay! (Yay?)

every moment changes lifetimes (even moments we regret). (T, 789 words). That moment at the T-Dock was not the first time Caleb had to make the same difficult choice.

this is a song of fingers pointing, casting shame. (T, 2827 words) Beau makes friends with Astrid and Eadwulf. They have a lot in common, after all.

the coyotes know her name. (T, 2561 words). Jester gets a successful divine intervention. Artagan uses it as an excuse to cause problems on purpose.

bind me, break me, can you take me (T, 2456 words). Beau gets left behind with the Tombtakers and discovers an unexpected ally.

you’re my canvas (better yet, dear, you’re my muse) (T, 1616 words) Beau and Molly get high in the Blooming Grove and Molly finds out about her tattoo.

trickster’s silken ribbon. (G, 901 words). Fearne meets Artagan as she enters the Material Plane for the first time.

we keep our tribal secrets and we recognize our own. (G, 922 words) Threeleaf AU. Caduceus observes a sibling brawl between the Threeleafs.

close your eyes and let me in. (G, 1194 words) Set in the Doppelganger’s Song universe. Molly convinces Lucien to let him braid his hair.

if you would curry my favor. (G, 735 words) Threeleaf AU. Molly and Kingsley attempt to get their brother a date because he is the worst.

so this is what i’ve known of love (G, 707 words) Caduceus embraces the chaos of his two families meeting... within reason.

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broadstbroskis · 4 years ago

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our love lasts so long | william nylander

a/n: oh hello!! am i here with yet another childhood friends to lovers fic?? why yes, yes i am. one (mildly) based on a taylor swift song, as the title would suggest (seven, a underrated folklore BOP)? yes again. the biggest of shoutouts to anyone who let me talk about this over the past few days but especially to @brockadoodles who listened to many many things and to @danglesnipecelly for reminding me about my childhood friends to lovers brand

word count: 7k

-----

The girls are being mean to her.

They’re older than her, a lot older than her, like already in grade school, and they all have friends here already, because they’ve all been here for a while. Noah frowns. It’s not her fault her daddy just got sent here. Florida’s too hot anyway; she still doesn’t understand how this ice rink even stays cold!

She shuffles her feet along. The Christmas songs are loud and there are a lot of people here but Daddy promised he’d take her around really fast after he finished working on shooting the puck with Jake. She just has to be super patient-she thinks that’s the thing Mommy always tells her to be-while she waits and then Daddy will play with her and those stupid girls won’t even matter.

(And yes she can use that word; she just can’t tell Mommy.)

The ice feels funny, not like she’s used to back at home in Canada, but before Noah can start to look for her Mommy to ask her, someone crashes into her and they both end up on the ice.

The boy who flew into her isn’t crying so Noah sucks her lip between her teeth and fights back her tears. “Hey!” He whines over to someone and then says something she can’t understand.

“Hey!” She whines and shoves him. “You’re s’pposed to say sorry when when you hit somebody!”

“I know!” His eyes widen. The blue is a pretty blue; it’s like the ice and Noah likes it. “My sister pushed me first though.”

“Oh.” Noah says. Jake is always pushing her around and he never gets in trouble for it. It’s not fair. “Well she should say sorry to you then.”

The boy nods in agreement, his blond hair flopping everywhere. “Yeah but she’s older so she thinks she doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to.”

Noah scowls. “So does Jake.”

The boy’s face lights up. “Well then we should be friends and we could fight them together!”

Someone else who’s going to help stop Jake from shooting pucks at her? Deal. “Okay.” Noah grins. “I’m Noah.”

He smiles back. “William.”

-----

Willy’s at practice when he hears about the trade, the one that’s bringing Barrett Evans to the Blackhawks, and he hears it mostly because the boys think it means Jake Evans is going to join their team.

Willy’s playing a couple years up here, and there’s an argument going on during practice about if Jake’s doing the same; if he’ll join their team, how soon he’ll be able to get there if he is. That they’re more excited about the potential of Jake Evans joining this team than any discussion of his dad joining the actual Blackhawks is one of the reasons Willy likes this team so much. They’re all chill; no one cares what his dad does or where he plays.

He’s just another one of the boys.

In about a week they find out Jake is joining their team, his mom quickly setting up a carpool to the rink with Willy’s, who is more than eager to agree, with the new baby taking up (in Willy’s opinion) too much space and time.

(What’d they need another sister for? Wasn’t two enough?)

Jake comes with two sisters of his own, another baby just like Willy’s sister, and then, even better, a dark haired girl that Willy only remembers from pictures and dreams, but a face that he recognizes instantly.

“Hey.” He taps the glass in front of where she’s sitting at his practice, writing something- probably homework. He’s supposed to do his in the car on the way to practice, Mum says so, but he never does, because he hates doing it, and like really, what’s the point if he’s going to be a famous NHL player anyway?

Noah looks up, a little annoyed, but then her face breaks out into a smile when she sees it’s him. “William!”

“Willy.” He corrects.

She pulls a face. “Ew, like a wet willy?”

“No,” He laughs. “Like my name!”

“That’s dumb.”

“No it’s not!” It’s what everyone calls him.

Noah’s still frowning at him. “Yes it is, Will.”

“No dumber than the ark you’re named after.” He counters. If she’s going to be like that, he can play too.

“At least I get cool animals on mine.” Noah huffs and then turns away from him, like she’s mad.

“No hockey on it though.” Willy says and she turns back to him just to roll her eyes at him. “Not really worth it then, yeah?”

“You’re the worst.” Noah says, but she’s back to facing him and smiling again, showing off a couple missing teeth. “Don’t you do anything else?” He shakes his head, grinning. “That’s gonna change because I’m not playing hockey with you all the time.”

“Well I’m not playing dolls with you all the time.” Will says quickly. He has to do that enough with his sisters; he’s not doing anymore of it.

She rolls her eyes. “Stupid boys.” She mutters and goes back to her work.

“What does that mean?” Willy demands but before he can get an answer, his coach is calling them all back to practice and his break is done. He’s just going to have to bug her at the game tonight.

(He does bug her at the game that night, but she annoys him right back, and by the second period, they’re laughing and grinning, friends once again).

-----

“Ok, but did you lose Alex or just like, misplace him?” Noah looks around her, searching for a head of blond hair in the crowd of people rushing around them in the mall.

“What’s the difference?” Will hisses, using her shoulder to stand on his toes, head turning as he searches for his brother.

“Like, are you actually asking because of a two language thing or are you just being a jerk because we lost your brother?”

Will glares over at him and drops down flat on his feet again, swearing as he does. “Mum’s doing to kill me.”

“Why?” Alex asks, reappearing suddenly with a soft pretzel in hand, and Noah screams, throwing her arms around him. “What happened?”

“We hate you.” Will says and Noah nods in agreement. “That’s what.”

“What’d I do?” Alex protests.

“Disappeared!” Noah cries. “With no warning.

“I told Will I was going to get a pretzel.” He defends. “He can’t listen and that’s my fault?”

Will reaches out like he’s going to pull his brother into a headlock-or worse, Noah’s not going to risk the two of them going at it like they do in their basement here in public-so she reaches out and grabs his hand, intercepting him before he can even make it to just ruffle his hair, or something. “Come on, Alex.” She teases, even as Will drops his jaw at her for stopping him. “We both know Will hears what he wants to hear.”

Alex laughs, looking as pleased as she knew he would, but Will’s jaw remains dropped. “Screw you” Will says, and because she’s still holding his one hand to keep it from going for his brother, she’s defenseless against the finger he pokes into her most ticklish spot.

“Stop!” She squirms away, or tries to- he won’t let go of her hand. “Will! Let go!”

He stops poking her side, but squeezes her hand and grins. “Nope, you chose this; now you’re stuck with me.”

“Your hand is sticky!” She whines.

“I was testing tape.” Will grins, swinging their hands widely. “Now yours can be sticky too.”

Noah looks down at their hands, joined and still swinging wherever Will moves them. She hopes that’s all that’s on them but you never know with the DC Metro.

-----

There’s a girl giggling behind him.

Willy turns and she stops, but as soon as he turns back, she’s giggling again and this time, so is her friend.

He tugs at the blazer of his uniform, looking down at his shirt. Is his tie done funny? He’d gotten called out for that last week. But it looks fine, just like everyone else’s did earlier. He pulls out his phone. Hurry up. He sends Noah, watching the dots appear on his screen, like she’s texting back, but then she appears, right in front of him. “Finally.” He grabs her and tugs her away from this school, those girls, even more of them giggling at him.

Willy wipes at his face. Maybe there’s something on it? But nothing comes off on his hand and he frowns harder.

Noah’s biting her lip, like she’s trying not to laugh, and it only works for so long. “She has a crush on you, dummy.”

“Oh.” Willy says blankly, trying to sneak a look back at the first girl.

“Oh,” Noah parrots. “Honest to god, Will, it’s a good thing you’re pretty.”

“Hey!” He forgets all about the girl, in favor of knocking his shoulders against hers-not hard enough to send her falling into the dirty snow of this New York suburb, but hard enough to make her laugh. “I’m athletic too!”

Noah bursts into laughter, this loud thing that’s bright and contagious and only serves to make Willy join in with her- not that he’s trying hard to stop himself. He’s always laughing when she is. “Sure bud,” She pats his arm. “You tell yourself that.”

-----

“Iced tea.” Noah hands a cup over to Will and then slides down so she’s sitting next to him, dangling her feet in the pool. It’s really too cold to go in, but that hasn’t stopped Will, who’s been swimming all afternoon on and off- and it hasn’t stopped him from pulling her in with him.

“How much sugar?” Will asks demandingly, as she rolls her eyes, like he’s not already taking a sip.

She’d normally answer with a snarky comment, just because he deserves it. But the nostalgia’s setting in; it’s been hitting her at random moments all week, and she’s inclined to just be nice to him, leaning against him as she says, “Come on, like I don’t know how you like your iced tea by now.”

Will sighs dramatically, taking her weight and pressing back against her. “Guess I’m going to have to make my own coffee now too, huh?”

“Two creams, one sugar.” Noah reminds him gently and he laughs, but it sounds kind of hollow, not at all like the honk that usually sends her into fits of giggles right along with him. It’s quiet after he stops, the only sound the pool filter a few feet away and the crickets just starting to chirp, and she hates the silence. In all their years of friendship, they’ve never been quiet people, never had to do an awkward dance while they figured out who they were each time they met. They fell right back into easy friendship, laughing and giggling, dragging each other into their favorite things and places, until one of them was leaving.

It feels different this time. “Are you really leaving?” There’d never been a doubt in her mind when her dad left DC that she’d see Will again. Maybe not for a few months, maybe not for a few years, but the day would come.

“For now.” Will shrugs. “I’m sure we’ll be back.”

“It’s Sweden.” Noah says quietly. She doesn’t have that same feeling this time. Sweden’s their home. Why would they leave?

“It’s hockey.” Will says, like hockey, Sweden, and home- they’re all interchangeable.

And maybe they are; hockey- the people Noah meets because of her dad’s team, the friends she’s made, Will, his family- hockey, as a concept, has been more of a home to her than any of the houses she’s known, than these temporary places she embraces every two years or so.

But she’s been around long enough to know what comes after hockey and it’s the only thing that changes home. The offseason home becomes the main home. Dads start picking up carpool duties and volunteer coaching positions. The spotlight shifts to the kids and their dreams.

It’s hockey and it’s Sweden and it’s home and whether they’re all different or the same, Noah knows this is the last time she’ll be seeing Will.

-----

Willy has minimal complaints about being a rookie, even if Reemer and Naz think he should have more.

He’s, like, the definition of living the dream. He’s got a sweet apartment that he shares with one of his best friends. He’s on a dream line with two more of his best friends and they’re absolutely tearing it up.

His team’s incredible, even if they’re a bunch of assholes sometimes (Willy is too sometimes, he admits), but they’re fun and they’re funny and they like to let loose and have a good time, for as often as they’re really fucking serious about the goal they’re all there for.

Like today. Practice had been brutal and then there’d been a lift before a video session, but there’s nothing on the schedule for tomorrow so there hadn’t even been a question of if they were going out that night. Suggestions for where had been tossed out the second practice ended.

It’s a good night, things are going well and drinks are flowing (as they should be) and then Matts rolls back to the table, weirdly dejected after coming back from the bar trying to talk up a pretty girl, and he takes his chirps with as much grace as the worst loser Willy’s ever met can, but Willy looks over and he knows that girl. He’d recognize those eyes anywhere, even if her hair is longer and maybe darker? So he gets up, even as Matts calls after him, “Fuck you Willy,” and the rest of the boys laugh.

He leans his weight against Noah, laughing at the look on her face when she realizes it’s him. The annoyance leaves her face pretty quickly and a smile slides right in its place, like she’s waiting for him. “Matts is pretty annoyed you turned him down.” He teases, bypassing hello altogether.

“Yeah well,” She huffs and it’s like she’s trying for annoyed but Willy can see the smile that she’s hiding. “Matts needs to learn that just because he’s a big shot hockey player doesn’t mean every girl is going to drop into bed with him at the sound of his name and a free drink.”

“He’s a lot nicer than that.” Willy defends. “Usually. I didn’t mean it like that.” Because, well, Matts can be an asshole, but it’s not about bringing a girl home.

Noah looks at him skeptically. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Yeah, I’ve never led you astray before .”

She bursts into laughter. “Yeah, okay.” The sarcasm drips from her tone, even through the laughter.

Willy pokes her but it only makes her laugh harder. “Name one time.”

“Sledding in DC, winter skate in New York, ditching school to go to the mall that one time in Westchester, taking the train into-“

He covers her mouth. “I said name one.”

When he removes his hand, Noah’s grinning up at him, and suddenly he realizes what’s different. It’s not her hair (which is darker, he’s sure now that he’s up close), or her smile (still bright and laughing), or her eyes (bright and green and unforgettable). It’s the oh fuck running through his brain, because he’d definitely take her home.

-----

Falling back into friendship with Will is easy; it’s pretending Noah doesn’t want more that’s hard.

It’s always been easy to be friends with Will. She can’t remember a time when they didn’t click, when things felt weird or uncomfortable between them.

But that was before he started dragging her everywhere around Toronto- to the greatest restaurants she’s ever eaten at, to the Christmas Market, to breakfast on Thursday’s every week he’s in town because he knows that she doesn’t have class until the afternoon.

The flutter in her stomach is so unfamiliar, something so unassociated with Will, that it takes her a while to place it. And of course he’s doing something so normal, so innocuous, so casual, it shouldn’t even register on her radar. He’s buying coffee, for Christ’s sake!

But he’s remembering that she likes oat milk in her iced coffee, even though she hasn’t really actually told him that; it’s just the order she always gives when they go for breakfast. And he’s ordered her a size up from what she usually gets, without her even asking, just because she’d mentioned being up late last night with homework.

“Here!” Will chirps happily, passing her the cup grinning, and there’s that flutter again, deep in her stomach, and it’s that, that small gesture that means so much, just knowing that he’s looking at her enough to know that she needs this extra large iced coffee with oat milk without even being told, that tells her what this feeling is.

This is a crush.

“Thanks.” She’s gonna tamp this baby down and fast. Why is she even crushing on Will at all? It must be, like, the years they’ve spent apart; she’s been desensitized to him or something. Suddenly, his hair’s all beautiful and his eyes are pretty and shit. Unreal.

“You’re welcome,” Will smiles. “But I didn’t just get this for you just because you look exhausted.”

“Is this a bribe?” She demands.

Will laughs. “Kind of.” She side-eyes him until he caves. “We’re all going out this weekend after the game and the team wants to meet you.”

“Oh.” She says, surprised. “That’s it?”

“You were expecting worse?”

She nods. “Much.”

“Well, nope.” He pops the ‘p.’ “Just gotta come hang out with me.”

“Ugh.” She complains. “Maybe that is worse.”

“I bought you that coffee. I’ll take it right back.” Will threatens.

“Never.” Noah cradles it close to her chest. “Not allowed.”

Will’s watching her, smiling, like he already knows she’s going to say yes, but he says anyway. “So you’ll come?”

“Of course, I’ll come.” It really wasn’t even a question. She would have come even if he hadn’t bribed her with the most amazing coffee she’s ever had to drink, but he sweetened the deal with that, so that’s how she finds herself slipping into the VIP section of a club on a Saturday night, eyes scanning to find him.

It’s not too hard to spot him and she soon finds herself sliding into a group of teammates and significant others, fighting back a laugh at the look on Auston Matthews’ face. “Hi!” She drapes herself over Will’s back, actually laughing at the look on his face and clinging tightly to make him work at pulling her off.

“God, you’re a pain.” He announces, finally tugging her around.

“Always.” Noah laughs, because this is easy, this is normal. Teasing Will just like always. “It’s what I strive to be, a thorn in your side.”

“You don’t have to try.” She miscalculated this gravely. He’s in the perfect position to dance his fingers into her most ticklish spots. “You just are.”

“Are you going to introduce us, Willy?” Someone asks dryly, one of the guys across from them. “Or just stand there pretending the two of you are in your own little world?”

Will’s cheeks flush-something unusual for him, he’s never embarrassed- but he says, “This is Noah.” Simply; like everyone should know who she is to him just from that alone, and it kind of seems like they do. A bunch of their faces light up and a few of them lean into each other and start whispering together. But she doesn’t get a chance to ask him what he has said about her, what kind of talk he’s been talking, before he’s listing names off of everyone around them, like she’s going to remember all these people.

There’s immediate chatter from almost everyone around her; it’s as if each one of them have been dying to meet her for a different reason. “Willy’s kept pretty tight-lipped about you.” Connor-James-Matt?-She’s already forgotten every name Will’s told her- says, almost too casually. “How long have you guys been seeing each other?”

“Before or after you turned Matts down?” Someone else adds eagerly, even as Auston groans, a little embarrassed.

Will’s fighting back a laugh next to her and she wants to kill him, honestly, she really does. But she settles for the next best thing, plastering her hand over his bicep, playing up a part that she isn’t. “Oh, you know. Fifteen years, on and off, right, babe?”

“Fif-what?” That’s Naz that’s narrowing his eyes at them; she’s pretty sure.

And now Will loses it, at either that, or the faces the rest of his teammates are making, and she pulls her hand away, laughing right with him. “What the fuck?” Tyler says flatly. “You really are just friends.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Will insists.

“He’s a terrible liar.” Noah says. “You’d know right away. His face gets all-”

“Nope.” Will pulls her away. “Think it’s time for a drink, don’t you?”

“Gets all what?” Someone calls. “All what?”

She winks over her shoulder; she’ll get back to him later.

Noah doesn’t get around to him until much later, dragged to the bar with Will and then out dancing where they’re joined by a few of his fellow rookies. There might be times when they all go out looking to pick up, but this clearly isn’t one, every one of them out doing each other in the most ridiculous ways (Mitch wins; Mitch wins every time).

She gets back to the table a while later, when she’s dying of thirst and Will’s gone to the bar for refills, but it’s been long enough that she’s kind of forgotten she’s somewhat on the hot seat in this group. No one pounces immediately, but two of them- Morgan and Jake- move away from the team’s argument about a podcast they’ve been listening to and slide closer to her.

“So what’s the tell?” Morgan asks and Noah frowns for a second until she remembers earlier, laughing and declining. “Fine, sure. I admire the loyalty, I guess.”

“It’s too easy for him to return the favor.” Noah laughs.

“Ok, so you’ve known Willy,” Jake says slowly, like he’s trying to calculate in real time. “For 15 years now?”

Noah nods. “Since we were four. Our dads got traded to the same hockey team and,” She shrugs. “Then again, and again, and again.”

Morgan kind of lights up, like this is the best news he’s heard all day. “What exactly was Willy like as a kid? Like has he always slept this much on any flat surface available? Or is that a weird thing he picked up in Sweden?”

“Always.” She laughs and then shrugs again. “I don’t know, I think he’s a lot like he is now. I don’t-I don’t think much has changed.”

And before she can even say anything else, the man himself is slipping in beside her, carelessly throwing his arm over her shoulders and gluing himself to her side. “Don’t talk to them.” Will demands. “They won’t have anything nice to say about me.”

“Rude.” Jake throws a wrapper at him, and it tangles in his hair but Will just shakes it out.

“Actually they’re asking me about you.” She tells him and he gasps dramatically.

“Don’t talk to them.” He demands again and she laughs.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want you ruining my image.”

“What image, pretty boy?” Morgan drawls, and Noah just laughs as Will retaliates by throwing the straw wrapper back at him but he doesn’t leave her side after that, remaining a comfortable weight pressed against her for the rest of the evening.

She doesn’t hate it. Stupid crush.

-----

“Happy Birthday.” Willy slides the gift across the counter but Noah doesn’t even reach for it, still looking down at the textbook she’s highlighting. She’s new-semester stressed still, the kind of stressed where her hair is constantly up in that bun for a few weeks and the bags never seem to leave her eyes. He can’t wait for another week or so, when she’ll finally crash and sleep for like, two days, a break she’s in desperate need of.

“What is it?” She asks skeptically and like, sure, the wrap job’s a little sketch, but Willy did it himself, no help from Mum or sisters. She should be, like, proud of his job mediocrely done.

“Was I unclear?” He asks, and she gives him a look, reaching for it with an eye roll.

“My birthday was last month.” She reminds him. “You sent me flowers.”

Willy knows. The flowers had been a placeholder because he’d wanted to be with her when she opened her real gift, to see her reaction, watch the smile grow over her face when she sees what’s in the box. “That was never your whole gift.”

She smiles. “It could have been! It was just nice to know you were thinking of me.”

Willy stops just before he says something stupid, like that he’s always thinking of her. He hasn’t stopped thinking about her since they reunited last year and he probably won’t stop thinking about her, even after she finishes up with school and figures out her next step. It seems inevitable that fate will follow its same path they’ve travelled their entire lives, and they’ll end up crossing paths three times a year when Willy travels to whatever city she ends up in, knowing before they even meet for dinner that it’s not enough time, never enough time.

Instead he smiles and nods. “Come on, I’d never miss your birthday. Even if we have to celebrate late.”

Noah laughs. “Fair.” She says, finally reaching for the gift he’d laid out for her. And he knows what she’s going to find first, but that doesn’t change how nice it feels to know he nailed it when she opens the box of Swedish candies he’d brought back, a box of all her favorites. “Ohh!” She immediately pops one of her favorite chocolates into her mouth. “I don’t even care what the other thing is; this is amazing. Thank you!”

Willy laughs, kind of nervously. “At least look at it before you decide to stick it in a corner and never look at it again.”

She’s already pulling it out, peeling back the corners of the wrapping paper, and then looking up at him when she realizes it’s a jewelry box. He smiles encouragingly, feeling like he barely manages to get a full smile up before she’s opening, and then it stretches out fully in relief when she gasps. “Will.” She says finally, looking up at him, mouth opening and closing repeatedly.

“Do you like it?” He asks hesitantly. He’d bought it on the spot the moment he saw it, the green of the peridot the exact shade of her eyes and her birthstone-or at least, it was, according to his sister. The necklace itself, a delicate chain dropping into a teardrop stone, this easy beauty that he couldn’t help associating with only her. It’d felt too perfect to pass up.

“I love it.” She says immediately. “This is-it’s-it’s perfect!” She gets out finally, and Willy breaks out into a smile, watching her lift the chain up to her neck. “Will you-” She breaks off, looking at him expectantly.

“Oh!” Willy gets it now, stands up to step behind her and gently takes the ends of the necklace. “Yeah, of course.” Noah lifts her hair and for a moment all Willy can concentrate on is the whiff of peach he gets suddenly. He fumbles the clasp for a second before he finally gets his shit together. “Why does your shampoo smell so good?”

She laughs, letting her hair tumble down again- another burst of peach to his nose- and turns to face him. “I switched it this summer. It’s nice, isn’t it?”

Nice? Maybe it’s because he spends all his time in a locker room with 23 other dudes, but it’s the best thing he’s ever smelled. He feels weird, knows it’s so not friends to want to pull her into his arms, just so he can hold her close and breathe in that smell, so he just nods.

“Yeah.” Willy says and his eyes are immediately drawn to her smile, to her fingers dragging the teardrop along the chain, and he- he flickers his eyes back up before he can go any lower. “It’s nice.”

-----

“You ready yet?” Will picks up his wallet off his island, where Noah’s been sitting for the last hour trying to tweak her resume one last time before submitting it to another job interview. “I’m going to miss my flight.”

“I’m going to kill you.” She says flatly. She’s only been calling that concern out to him since she walked in the door.

Will grins, throwing his arm around her shoulders and tugging her close into his side. If they weren’t about to spend the entire summer apart, maybe she’d fight it more, afraid that she’s taking too much from him to satiate her more-than-just-a-crush. But Will’s pulling his stupid Sugo hat on his head with the hand that’s not squeezing her close, and he’s about to leave her for four months, fresh off the devastation of the Bruins loss, so she curls in, greedily taking anything she can from him. “Save some cap space,” He hums. “If you did.”

“Oh my god.” She shoves him away. She takes it back. She takes it all back. She feels absolutely nothing for him; he’s the worst human she’s ever met.

Will pulls her back in and his arm stays around her the entire walk down to his car, when he only removes it so they can pack his bags in and then slide in their seats. As soon as he starts it and gets on the road, he reaches over again, just resting his hand on her knee.

“I can’t believe you’re just going to let me drive your car all summer.” Noah says, so she doesn't say something she regrets instead, like I love you, or worse, something about his hands and where else he can put them.

Will glances at her briefly before turning his attention back to the road and Noah’s already grinning before he responds. “Don’t make me regret this.”

Shifting in her seat to better face him seems like a good idea until she actually does it and it means that his hand just moves further up her leg. She has to stop herself from looking at it, his fingers on the skin of her thigh. “You’ll still have a car when you get back.”

“The same car?”

“Maybe with a dent or two in it.” Noah teases, mostly just to annoy him. It works; he flickers his eyes over toward her in a glare. “I’m kidding.”

“You better be.”

“I’d totally get it fixed.” She continues, smiling when Will laughs. “Pristine condition. You’d never know.”

“Just how I want it.” He pulls up to departures and puts the car into park, so they can both step out; him to fly out and her to switch sides, meeting at the trunk. “Please don’t crash you or my car.” He says softly, pulling her into a hug.

“Please come back soon.” She counters, muttering the words into his chest.

It’s apparently not as quiet as she’d intended. “Wedding season.” He squeezes. “I’ll see you then.”

But that’s not what she meant at all. Noah doesn’t want him back for a weekend or two. She wants dry ink on a contract, locking him in to Toronto.

-----

When the start of the season comes around and Willy’s contract still hasn’t been signed, he can’t say he’s surprised to get a Snapchat from Noah, featuring her, Auston, and Mitch all pouting.

“Come on.” He frowns at her, when they’re facetiming later that day- well into the night for him, actually. “You know why I’m doing this.”

She pouts again, even though she’d been smiling only seconds before. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it. Why can’t you be in a standoff with management from here?”

“Why can’t you come work from home from here?” Willy counters and she actually huffs at him, but changes the subject.

When his holdout continues to last though, she does, finally, agree to come work from home from his place in Sweden, at least for a little, and Willy has to physically stop himself from fistpumping in excitement. It’s been too many months of seeing just her pixelated face through facetime, of conversations broken up by timezones, and late night calls that make him want things he knows he can’t have.

It’s only a few days later but it feels like forever by the time that Noah is throwing herself into Willy’s arms the second that she exits the Stockholm Arlanda airport, and it’s only years of core stability training that don’t send them both flying to the ground.

“How’s my car?” He teases, because it’s been a lot longer than the four months he promised and he just wants to see her smile, in person, without a lag from their stupid iPhones.

It works. “1 door left.” She chirps easily. “Don’t worry, Auston’s helping me fix it.”

“I’m sure he is.” Willy says darkly, because it was really no secret Matts still thought she was gorgeous, even if Willy was sure he’d never actually do anything about it. Pretty sure. At least 50%.

Noah laughs. “You’re hilarious.” She pats his arm a few times and pulls away to get in the car, but he wants to know about what. About Matts? It’s a legit concern, he feels. Maybe he’ll just fire off a text to Matts, just to be sure. “Will?” Noah’s leaning out of the passenger side. “Are we leaving or are we going to spend my whole trip here at the airport?”

“What if we are?” Willy shoots back, but he makes his way to the driver’s seat.

“If it meant that you were coming home?” Noah gives him a small smile. “I don’t think I’d even be mad.”

Willy gives her a tight smile. “Not yet.”

“Is it-” Noah makes a noise and then continues anyway. “Are you going to come home?”

“I want to.” She knows this; they don’t talk about his contract situation often, but they do, occasionally. “You know that.”

“Yeah.” She says softly. “I just-it’s getting close, yeah?”

Yeah, it was. The deadline was creeping closer and closer, with still no deal. He didn’t...love that, he’d say that for sure. He wanted to be back with the boys, playing; was ready to be back with Noah, for any time she’d give him. “Yeah.” He says, and then switches the topic completely, because he doesn’t want to think about what he’s going to do if this is the only time he gets with her until next fall. “You want to go to dinner with my family tonight?”

Noah’s eyes light up. “Yeah, oh my god!”

Willy laughs and takes the next exit on the highway, instead of driving further into town to go to his own place. Dinners with his parents and sisters is usually a quick cure to any spiraling thoughts about the signing deadline, and having Noah there today is even better. She’s a comforting weight against his side; a laughing presence with his mum as they gang up against him; a friend to his sisters after dinner, as they sit curled together in a corner of the living room whispering secrets and waving him away when he gets too close.

It’s a lot of things Willy doesn’t let himself think about, doesn’t let himself want, because Noah’s never given any hints she wants the same. And she’ll always fit with his family, because she grew up with him, with them, but one day she’ll find another guy who she just seamlessly fits into the side of, whose family she can easily laugh and joke with, because she’s that charming and friendly and nice. How could anyone not love her?

“I remember your sisters begging me to braid their hair at games all the time.” Noah says fondly, once she leaves their circle of secrets to come back to him. “God, I can’t believe how old they all are now.”

“Don’t remind me.” Will says darkly. His youngest sister just announced she has a boyfriend, her first boyfriend; he hates it the most.

Noah cackles, as if she knows what he’s thinking about, which, well, maybe she does, after the last hour. He doesn’t even want to know what they said about him (except he does, he really, really does). “If you promise to be nice to him, maybe she’ll let us go one a double date with them before I leave.”

Willy about blacks out when he hears her mention the word date and he’s pretty sure it shows on his face. “Really?” It’s the only word he can get out. Everything is wonderful; thank God, thank Jesus, thank who-fucking ever. This is the greatest-

Noah laughs. “Well I don’t think she’s going to let you meet him by yourself!” She nudges him with her shoulder. “But we could all go to dinner together!”

He takes it back. Everything is terrible and this is not even close to the greatest day ever.

They end up going for dinner with his sister and her boyfriend anyway-whatever, it’s fine.

“He was more than fine.” Noah protests, when they’re walking back to his place from the restaurant. It’s her last day here and Willy’s trying to soak up every bit of her that he can, so if that means walking to a restaurant in the cold, then so be it. “He was really nice!”

“He was, like, moderately nice, at best.” Willy pulls a face.

“Don’t be that guy.” She shakes her head at him. “You know what guy I’m talking about.”

“Yeah.” He sighs.

She nudges him. “You know, if you came back to Toronto with me, you’d never have to see him. Out of sight, out of mind.”

He wants to. He wants to so badly. He just...can’t. “You know I can’t.”

“But I don’t!” Noah says, frustratedly. “I don’t know why you can’t at all. You want to be there and they want you there. I don’t fucking get this!”

“Money. Terms.” He shrugs, sounding a lot more casual than he feels. “My agent’s taking care of things. That’s what he’s here for.”

“Well maybe it’s time to take care of things you want for yourself.” Noah mutters.

“What?” Will asks; he’s sure he heard her, but the bitterness is really unlike her.

“Nothing.” Noah curls into him and Willy wraps his arm around her shoulders without question. “Just cold. Left or right to get home?”

-----

Will’s text comes through in the middle of the afternoon, that they’re just ironing out the fine details and that he’ll be on a redeye that night.

You don’t even need to buy me a Christmas present this year. Noah sends in response. Best gift ever.

When he doesn’t respond, though, she gets a little concerned. He always sends something back, always, whether it’s just a little emoji or some kind of quip, and that was prime for the taking. Call me at the airport? She follows it up. Do you need a ride when you get here? I still have your car.

Matts is grabbing me, going right to practice and meeting w kyle. Catch up later.

She actually startles at the response. He’s never, never been so short with her. It’s not even that the response itself was rude; it just...didn’t even feel like him. It feels like he’s pushing her away and the only thing she can think of is that he is. That he’d realized how she’d clung to him in Sweden in departures, the way she hadn’t been able to stop herself from running her hand down his back before pulling away, and he’d connected it to the fact that she’s definitely in love with him and was pulling away.

It’s the worst thought she’s had since she realized he was staying in Sweden for a while. She’d drunk a bottle of wine then to cope and she does the same now, but then she’s only more cranky the next morning when she’s still over thinking and she has a headache.

The knock on her door only makes her more annoyed, at least until she opens it and sees Will standing in the hallway. “Hi.�� She breathes. She’d pictured him coming back to Toronto so many times, and look, she knows she doesn’t need to impress Will, who has seen her at her best and worst, but not once was she wearing sweats and the biggest sweatshirt that she owns.

“Hi.” Will grins and she’s about to tell him to come in, but then he’s cupping her cheek and ducking down and it’s like time stops as he kisses her.

Noah can’t quite believe she was ever scared that Will didn’t love her. She doesn’t need him to say it, but he’s the one to pull away first, resting his forehead on hers, and they’re the first words out of his mouth. “I love you.” He kisses her again and god, she could do this forever. “You told me if I want something, to just take care of it myself, and I’m doing it. I don’t want to sit back anymore and let someone else love you. I love you.”

Will brushes his thumb over her cheek and Noah tries to gather a thought, any thought after a kiss that turned her brain to mush. “I don’t know when I started loving you,” She says, smiling when she sees the grin grow across Will’s face. “But I think it was before I even know what love was, and I don’t ever want to stop.”

The next kiss is the worst one yet, the smile still on his face (and hers), but that’s okay, Noah muses. They have time.

#william nylander #william nylander fan fic #william nylander fanfiction #william nylander imagine #hockey fanfic #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #my hockey fics

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fangirlovestuff · 4 years ago

Text

littera scripta manet - steve rogers x reader

a/n - hey lovely people!! first of all, this is based on a moodboard by the amazing @cloudystevie, which inspired this whole fic, thank you!! the picture above is how i imagined steve in this one, but you can imagine him however you want:) also, there’s a list of meanings of the flowers i mention at the end because i’m a sucker for the language of flowers (the flowers are in bold in the fic). i love the dark academia aesthetic and i hope i did it justice:) enjoy!!<3

title means ‘the written letter remains’

summary: unlike you, steve doesn’t have a problem admitting to himself he has feelings for his best friend. that’s what makes it so painful when it seems like you don’t.

word count: 7k (oops?)

warnings / tags: friends to lovers, Pining™ , angst with a happy ending, as slow burn as a one shot can be, an obnoxious amount of clichés but i’m not sorry, no plot just vibes (i mean there’s like,,, some plot i guess), the songs/quotes i used in this aren’t mine!!!

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

You watched as the morning mist slowly faded, the sun showing it away. You watched as the curtains fluttered against the touch of a delicate wind. You watched as the sparks of dawn came to life under the sky's watchful eye. You watched the tree beneath your window in the glory of its blossom.

You turned your body in the other direction, the one facing not the east window but the bed. And there, beside you, you watched as he stirred hazily, his body still clad in yesterday's clothes, huffing out a quiet breath before his eyelashes fluttered open to reveal the pair of familiar blue eyes.

You watched, and his eyes told you the most amazing story – his look was disoriented, then bewildered, and then, well, the most gorgeous smile stretched onto his features, and it told the rest – love, and hope, and home.

That story is the one I will tell you today.

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

The first day of school was always a straining one. All the way from elementary school to high school, it was a constant in your life.

There was, however, one more constant. Your best friend.

Steve Rogers was truly the most wonderful of boys.

You two met when you were very young, your mothers getting along well, so you had no choice but to do so as well. And you did get along, splendidly. You became fast friends, not stopping even when his other friends were telling him about 'girl germs' or when your other friends were constantly asking if you wanted him to be your boyfriend, or if he was. What you and Steve had transcended it, in a way.

You grew together, and you watched as Steve Rogers became the most wonderful of men. He was your best friend, and you loved him with your whole heart. Platonically, of course.

You smiled at him fondly as the both of you stepped into your new college, in through the big iron gates. As far as you looked there was grass, trees, flowers. The big cobblestone building stood tall in the distance, and if you listened carefully, you could hear the chatter of students above the sound of the wind that was gently ruffling your uniform skirt.

"Excited?" Steve asked, smiling back at you.

"Nervous," you let out a quiet laugh.

"You shouldn't be," he answered, "look at this place!" he gestured around, "you fit right in here with all the-" he cut himself off, closing his mouth before continuing, "you fit right in!"

"Yeah, maybe. This place is just… dreamy," you smiled. "But that doesn't stop me from being nervous."

"Well, you have no reason to be," he took your hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly.

You hoped he was right. You never liked being far away from home, but this school was truly the school of your dreams, and well, with Steve by your side… you could never be that far away from home.

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Adjusting was… an experience, certainly. This school was like nothing you've known before, the uniform seemed a bit excessive, the school halls were so incredibly long, and the grounds so vast you could barely see the outside. And yet, it felt like something about this place was magical. Like it accepted you right in, it wanted you to be there. The library was huge, and you've already spent countless hours digging away for course related materials and, well, less course related materials. The vast grounds meant you could walk out every day in a different direction, if you wanted to, and find a new hidden treasure.

You shared your thoughts with Steve when you discovered one of these treasures together. It was fairly early evening, you two had just gotten out of class and were walking off the long day you've had, and you suddenly came across some high rose bushes. Steve tried to see what was on the other side of them, but it was too tall even for him, so you circled around and found a small, rusty gate. You went through it to discover a small fountain, with a marble statue of a mermaid in the center.

You gasped in delight, unable to contain yourself from running to kneel on the grass next to it, looking into the water curiously. Dipping your hand in tentatively, you shivered at the touch of the chilly water, and immediately took out your hand, massaging it in your other one to warm it up.

Steve laughed as he finally caught up with you, not running but walking calmly. He dipped his hand in the water as well, before raising his brow mischievously. Before you could ask him what's going on, he took his hand out of the water and sprayed the cold droplets of water right on your face.

"Steven Grant Rogers!" you said, shocked, "You did not just do that," you glared at him.

"You know what, you're right," he began shuffling away, "I didn't," he stood up with a cheeky smile as you continued to glare at him, "It was a happy accident."

"Oh I'll show you happy accident!" you couldn't contain your laughter anymore as you dipped your hand in the water again, getting up to chase him around the little garden. He managed to evade you for a bit, and then you finally caught up to him, placing your cold hand right on the back of his neck. He turned around, making him lose his balance and fall down onto the grass, which in turn made you topple over him, stopping your fall with your hands just when you were about to fall onto his chest.

"Alright, I surrender!" he lifted his hands up.

"Good," you smirked.

There was a moment where you just stared into each other's eyes, each sparkling with a smile. It was broken when Steve asked, "Well, can I, uh, get up now?"

You noticed you ended up straddling his hips, which you then fumbled to undo, standing back up hastily. You dusted your skirt a little awkwardly, avoiding Steve's eyes as he got up too. You didn't even know why you were feeling so awkward. You've had plenty of play fights with Steve, there was no reason for this one to be different.

But Steve just extended his arm to you, like he did on the first day you were here. You took it, and just like that, you were fine again.

"Do you know, Stevie, I think there's something magical about this school," you told him as you were walking.

"Really? Why do you think that?"

"Well, the library's huge a-"

Steve burst into laughter, and once it died down a little, he said, "I'm sorry, it's just so… like you to say a big room full of books is magical. It's true, don't get me wrong," he said before you could get annoyed, "but I feel like no one but you would have vocalized that truth."

"Well then, lucky I'm here," you smiled.

"Yeah," he said softly, "very lucky."

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About a month later it turned out the school holds a ball twice a year, at the start of winter and at the end of spring, right before the school year ends. At first you were a little shocked, but you quickly warmed up to the idea, given that it was very much on brand with everything else in the school.

You did obviously make more friends than just Steve, so you and your friends went to get dresses together. Roaming between the big expansive stores was fun, but after a while you all realized it wasn't very affordable, and not really your style. You wandered into a small, secluded second hand shop, where you found the perfect dress – fancy but not overly glamorous, a color that suited you beautifully, and not too bad of a price. It made you feel like a princess, the long skirts shuffling gently behind you as you stepped out of the fitting room to show it to your friends, who were just in love with it as you were and told you to buy it right away.

That night you went home with a dress in your hand and a smile in your heart.

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As the school year progressed, you started picking up and drying different flowers you found on the grounds, keeping them between pages of your notebooks. A bit of a messy hobby at times, but it made you happy.

You were just writing a letter to your family, trying to figure out if and which flower you should attach to it, when you heard a knock on your dorm door.

"Just a second!" you called out before shutting the ink box, putting down the dip pen before getting up and opening your door. There, you found a flustered Steve, smiling at you with a few honeysuckle flowers in his hand.

"I, uh, brought these for you," he said timidly, "I know you collect flowers and I don't think you have some of these yet."

"I don't!" you smiled and took them from Steve's hand, "thank you!"

You ushered him in before putting the honeysuckles on your desk. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," he shrugged. He saw the letter and pen on your desk. "Oh, am I interrupting you? I'm sorry, I could come back later if y-"

"It's alright Stevie," you chuckled, "I was just writing home. Anything you'd want me to tell my family for you?"

"Ummm… hi?" he smiled bashfully and you both laughed.

"Well, that's just too long! I don't have any more place on the page for such eloquent greetings!" you teased.

"Alright, then no, I don't have anything to say to them. I wrote my family a few days ago already, so if you wanted to say anything to them, you'll just have to wait till next time."

"Anyways," you smiled, "did you need anything?"

"Not really," he shook his head, "I just, well, I don't really have a person to go with to, you know, the ball thing, so i-"

"So you want me to set you up?" you giggled. "Is it Ella? Or is it Kathrine?"

"No, let me finish," he half heartedly grumbled. "I was thinking, I wanted to ask you to come with me," he smiled timidly, averting his gaze. After you didn't say anything, he continued, "I mean, I didn't think you had anyone to go with either, and since we've been friends since forever, I thought-"

"No, yeah, that's a great idea!" you spoke up quickly, "Sorry, I just spaced for a moment, I think that'd be great, since no one really asked me and stuff," you shrugged and smiled.

"Great!" he smiled.

"Great," you nodded. You both chuckled, not really knowing what to say.

"I should leave you to get back to your letter," Steve said after a moment. "I'll, um, see you around."

You told him goodbye before shutting the door behind him and sitting back down at your desk. But you found you didn't have it in you to pick up your pen. No, your train of thought was lost, and was now racing a hundred miles per hour, because –

Because why would he ask you. Because he could've asked any other girl and they would've probably said yes, yet the thought of him going with another girl made your stomach drop in a peculiar way. The obvious answer was that it was just about his comfort zone, which you knew Steve was prone to staying in.

Yeah, that's it. It's just comfortable. Familiar.

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The night before the ball, you found yourself tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. At around 2 am, you officially gave up and traded in your pajamas for some more presentable clothes in case someone is also awake, and made your way to the library.

Over the few months you've been here, the library has become somewhat of an escape for you. Sure, it was where you did a large amount of your schoolwork, but it was also the place that allowed you to 'travel' to several magnificent worlds.

You made your way as quietly as you could, picking up one of your favorite classics. It was an old, worn in version of Dumas' "The Count of Monte Cristo", a book which you vaguely remembered reading in your childhood and, when you stumbled upon it here, fell in love with all over again.

The place was dark, and you wanted to keep it like that, giving you less of a chance to be disturbed by others. You sat down and lit a candle, getting immersed in your book. So immersed, you didn't notice the sound of footsteps coming up behind you.

"I figured I'd find you here," Steve smiled, sitting down on the wooden chair next to yours.

"How come?" you smiled back and closed the book, not before putting a bookmark in it.

"I went up to your room to see if you were still awake because I wanted to show you something. When you didn't answer my knock, I guessed you were either in extremely deep sleep or you were here. And would you look at that, I was right," he smirked.

You chuckled. "What did you want to show me?"

"Come on," he stood up and extended his hand to you, "I can show you right now."

You smiled and followed him as he led you outside, into the chilly night. You shivered slightly as the cold air hit your face. "Steve," you complained, "I wasn't really planning on going outside. I don't have my jacket."

"Oh, right," he said, stopping in his tracks, "sorry. But you could just take mine," he said, while already shrugging it off.

"No, Steve, then you'll get-"

"Come on!" he smiled, wrapping the jacket around your shoulders, "let's go!"

You giggled at his excitement, adjusting his jacket a little before following him further away. He took you somewhere you had shockingly never been before, a small, secluded field of hydrangeas, peaceful in the moonlight. You looked around in awe.

"I knew you'd like it," he smiled. "And look," he gestured upwards, "it's far enough from the building so we can really see the stars."

You looked up and your breath caught in your throat at the sight. He was right. The stars never seemed so many or so bright to you than in the moment.

"See right there? That's Ursa Major, and that-"

You looked to him, and his words faded away in your mind, becoming a low stream of sounds. Everything seemed to become softer, distant, while he flooded your mind.

In that instant, it looked like Steve had the moon in him. Soft, and bright, and beautiful. His pale skin glistened under the moonlight, but when his eyes turned to meet yours, you thought you may have been wrong.

Because in them, you found the stars.

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And there it was, the big night, the night of the ball. You were nearly ready to put on your dress when you heard a knock at your door. You opened it to find Steve there, smiling.

"I just came to check in on you," he said, handing you a few hibiscus flowers. You smiled, taking them from him, your fingers brushing against his.

"Well, I'm doing quite well," you said, and wordlessly invited him in. He followed you inside and shut the door behind him.

"You look great," he said.

"I'm not even wearing my dress yet," you giggled. Squinting, you tried to figure out what about him seemed off to you. Then, when you realized it, you stepped up to him and brought up your hand to fix his shirt collar, which was partly stuffed under his tie. You then rested your hand next to his collarbone, above his heart.

"You look great too," you said softly, smiling a small smile up at him.

"Thanks," he breathed.

"Alright, I better get ready," you chuckled, stepping away from him. "I'll see you there."

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Steve didn't think of himself as a very sophisticated guy. Sure, he was smart enough, but he was no match to you, for example. He wasn't that big on words or analogies.

And yet, when he saw you step down the stairs into the ballroom, his first thought was that you looked like the sun, ethereal and radiant in your beauty, almost blindingly so; your hair was styled in a simple manner, your face stretched in a soft smile as your wonderous eyes roamed around the room. Your dress created an angelic sort of look, and as you gently walked down each step, your hand delicately gliding on the banister, he nearly couldn't believe you were real, that you were making your way to him.

The moment your eyes met his, your smile became bigger, your steps quickened, much like his heartbeat. When you arrived, he extended his arm to you, like he has a habit of doing, and greeted you a soft hello over the sounds of the dainty music.

The night went great, it really did. You two danced together, ate some of the fancy food, laughed. It was… magical. There was one point, when you were swaying together to a slow song, when he thought –

Well, it didn't matter what he thought, didn't it? Because at the end of the night, you didn't wait on him. No, you sneaked out with some guy in the year above you.

Steve wanted to be angry. He couldn't, not at you anyways.

Ever since a year ago, when you found out you were going to the same college, he knew. The relief that washed over him when he heard the news, the gratitude of being able to be by your side – he didn’t understand how he didn't see it sooner.

He assumed, sooner or later, you'd see in him what he sees in you. The sun. Happiness; bright, celestial, divine.

But maybe you can't see what's simply not there.

Steve went to his dorm. He went to sleep, but his nightmares awakened him again and again. Nightmares of losing you. So, without any other choice, at around 5 am he decided to give up and get up, maybe take a shower.

At the moment, it felt like real life wasn't any better than his nightmares. He hoped at some point, that would change.

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"Damien!" you laughed breathlessly as he pulled you through the endless corridors.

"What?" he chuckled, stopping and turning back towards you, pulling you a little closer to him by your joint hands. You panted a little in an attempt to catch your breath before you spoke.

"Where are we going?"

"Oh, wherever you want to! Just away from that stuffy ballroom," he grinned.

"It wasn't stuffy, I thought it was very pretty!" you defended it with a smile.

"Not as pretty as you," he softly said, bringing his hand to cup your cheek. He's been complimenting you like that since you two met an hour ago at the ball, and well, you were a simple girl; you really wanted him to kiss you right now.

He took a step closer and his hand traveled to your chin, holding it and gently tilting your face up. Just as his lips touched yours, your eyes fluttered shut, allowing yourself to succumb to his embrace, your lips moving against his. You broke apart for air, and you opened your eyes when you remembered.

"Damien," you said, "I just remembered, I was with my friend at the ball and I didn't tell him I was going… can we go back for a second?"

He examined your face for a second before smiling and saying, "Sure. Just for a bit though," he winked.

You made your way back in silence, the sound of your footsteps muffled by the carpets below you. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you found him looking ahead with a smile. Bashfully, you smiled too, slightly biting your lower lip. Soon enough, you arrived.

Staying close to the ballroom doors, Damien asked you, "Can you see him?"

"I don't think so," you said with a frown, scanning the dancing crowd with your eyes. Steve was tall, usually you were able to easily pick out his frame from any crowd, but you couldn't see him anywhere nearby.

"Well," you said after a couple more moments passed, "he probably realized it and went already," you shrugged.

"In that case," Damien gestured at the exit, "After you, madam."

You giggled and bowed a small bow before exiting, Damien on your heels. You spent the night walking the grounds, talking to each other over the sound of the wind. When it was getting late, he escorted you to your room and gave you a good night's kiss, a perfect gentleman, just like you read about in books.

That night you slept peacefully, no dreams, good or bad, plaguing your consciousness. The next morning you woke up refreshed, ready to take on the day.

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You and Steve were still friends, but something changed. You didn't really see it, too occupied with school and Damien to notice, but there was a shift, a distance that wasn't there before. You still talked, you still hung out from time to time, it just… wasn't the same.

One day, when you were in the library together, one cold February night, Steve asked you a peculiar question.

"What do you think is the best way to tell someone you love them?"

"Why, any Valentine's day plans?" you joked.

"Nothing in particular," he shrugged.

"Well, I think the best way to tell someone you love them is with words. Just… say it, or write it, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess that's nice," he smiled, returning to his book.

"So, who's the lucky lady, huh?" you nudged him with your elbow, "is it Kathrine? Because I'm telling you, I really think if you'd ask h-"

"It's not Kathrine, because it's no one," he cut you off with a chuckle. "It was just a general question."

You never bugged him about it again, quite honestly you forgot about the whole ordeal.

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The months of the winter passed, and lo and behold, the spring settled over you. The winds were less harsh, the flowers were blooming again, the sun was shining brightly. With only a few scattered days of still wintery weather, you mostly studied outside on the grass, maybe under a tree. You were making the best of it, inviting your friends of Damien to study with you too. You felt like bursting into song.

One day, when you and Damien were sitting on the grass, studying together, he picked a rhododendron, sticking it behind your ear. The large flower didn't hold on for long, and fell down after a couple of seconds. You laughed, and he chuckled. Picking it up, you tried to put it on once more, but it just wouldn't stay. Then, you took it again and this time, stuck it behind his ear. Somehow, it managed to stay on.

You laughed, "You look very pretty."

"I do?" he asked, fluttering his lashes playfully, "why thank you darling."

After a while, he took it off and pressed in between the pages of his notebook. "Like you always do," he smiled, showing off the closed notebook before putting it back into his bag.

"Be careful," you giggled, "if it falls out the entire bag will be full of petals, and even when you’d think you got them all out, you'd find a couple more a few days later."

"Are you speaking from experience?" he asked cheekily.

"Why of course not! I was born a professional," you stuck your nose up indignantly, making him laugh.

"Of course you were, how could I forget," he offered you his hand and helped you up.

As you walked together back to the school building, you had a feeling you forgot something, or like something was missing. You looked back at the place you were sitting in seconds ago, but there was nothing there.

"Everything alright?" Damien asked.

"Yeah, everything's great," you answered, squeezing his hand that was clutched in yours.

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When the second ball was approaching, Damien had started to send you love letters. Every time you had gotten one, you felt your heart pick up its pace, a smile stretching on your face. Some of them were poems, some quotes, some just sentences, you didn't know which he wrote and which he read and thought of you. You took to the habit of saving them all in a small box in your room, going through them every couple of days.

I see you everywhere, in the stars, in the river, to me you're everything that exists, the reality of everything ~Virginia Woolf

Every one of them was simply signed with three x's, signifying kisses. You smiled as you put the most recent one into your pocket, intent on putting it with the rest later.

Some days, you'd get small notes, and some days would be a rather large page. You loved both.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

~Elizabeth Barrett Browning

You resonated with the words, you've always loved poems. Weirdly, you've never talked to Damien about your love of them, but you guessed he just… knew. That's what made him so special.

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever. ~Alfred Lord Tennyson

That one made you stop in your tracks for a moment. It made you think of Steve. He didn't really bring you flowers anymore. Well, maybe he just didn't find any new ones.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

~Shakespeare

You smiled brightly as you read the note. You were getting new ones every other day. Amongst the chaos of exams, it was nice, knowing that's the way he had to keep in touch with you. You were just done reading it when your friend came up behind your back, reading over your shoulder.

"Oh, did Damien bring you this?" she smiled. "You guys are so cute together."

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you The love of all man’s days both past and forever: Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life. The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours – And the songs of every poet past and forever.

~ Rabindranath Tagore

That last one you found in the library copy of "The Count of Monte Cristo". You gravitated towards it every time you were anxious, or couldn't sleep, or both. It was a comfort. Finding the note there nearly made you cry; the long day you've had mixed with the love you felt bringing tears to your eyes. You blinked them away with a smile, stuffing the note in your pocket before starting to read the book.

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Steve saw you open the book and get the note. He smiled to himself.

He didn't know if this would work, or if you'd think your boyfriend wrote them. He just wanted to make you smile.

He also wanted to make you know, make you understand what he was feeling. But you weren't exactly emotionally available right now, so Steve did the best he could; he waited.

In the meantime, he went to search for another poetry book. He was surprised you hadn't recognized his handwriting yet. He did write it a bit more neatly than he usually did, with more careful attention.

Maybe she recognized it but didn't want to say anything. Maybe that was a pitying smile, whispered a voice in his head. He shook it off.

He knew you weren't his, but he couldn't give up hope. He could wait some more.

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The spring / end of the year ball was approaching in giant steps. You were done with your exams, and already had a dress, which you adamantly refused to show Damien despite his repeated pleas. Now, you were spending an afternoon outside, enjoying the fresh air picnicking with some of your friends, who were playing a card game you couldn't care to learn the rules of. You were taking photos instead, borrowing one of your friends' camera and taking some pictures of them playing, of the scenery.

"Has Damien asked you to the ball yet?" one of them asked.

"Oh, not yet," you shrugged, "I'm sure he will though. I mean, you've seen the notes he sent me," you giggled, "I don't see another option."

Just then, you saw a figure coming towards you from afar. In the other direction, you saw Damien approaching, and before you had a chance to wonder about the other person, he was there, planting a kiss on your cheek. You put the camera down on the blanket and smiled at him.

"Speaking of the devil," your friend chuckled.

"Only good things, I hope," he sat down next to you.

"Of course," you laughed and leaned away from him to snap his picture, "what else could we have said?"

"Well, that's great, because I was wondering," he took a breath, "do you want to see me do a card trick?"

"Yes, sure," you said, slightly confused but still smiling.

He held up a card. "Could you tell me what card this is?"

"A leaf ace," you said.

"Great," he flipped it around in his hands a couple of times, before pulling off a complicated hand movement you couldn't keep track of, and was now holding a small, card sized mirror. "Now, could you tell me what card this is?"

"It's… a mirror," you said, puzzled.

"Look closer," he encouraged.

"Still a mirror, Dames," you chuckled.

"No, it’s a queen of hearts!" he laughed, "my heart, more specifically," he leaned in closer and smiled. "Would you go to the ball with me?"

"Yes! Of course I will!" you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. Just then, you heard the shutter of the camera clicking, and broke apart from him, laughing.

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The night of the ball finally arrived. You were in Damien's room, getting ready, when you finally had the mind to say, "Oh, Damien, I don't think I ever thanked you for the notes," you smiled at him from the other corner of the room. He was standing in front of the mirror, tying his tie, while you were sitting on the bed, already in your dress, which you finally let him see.

"Oh, from last week's lecture? No problem love," he smiled at you, your eyes meeting through the mirror.

"No," you giggled, "I meant the notes you've been leaving me."

He looked at you, puzzled. "You know, the notes with the– oh come on, don’t play dumb," you scoffed playfully.

"I'm not," he said, "I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about." He finished the knot and came to stand in front of you, offering you his hand and helping you up. You stood in front of him, squinting.

"Okay," you said after a few moments. Smiling, you noticed his collar was partly stuffed under his tie, raising your hand to fix it and –

"Oh," you frowned softly.

You knew who wrote the notes. You knew all along. I mean, how couldn't you recognize the handwriting of the person you know the best? Who knows you better than anyone else?

The person you've been neglecting the past few months. And yet, he was sending you love letters. You felt like crying, because you should've known it was him. More than that, you should've realized; you love him too.

You love him so much it nearly hurts. The man with flowers in his hand and stars in his eyes, the one who took you to every bookstore you ever wanted to visit, who gave you his jacket when you were cold, who knew not only what your favorite book was, but also what copy of it you would take.

As good as Damien was to you, he was never the one for you. He was charming, lovable for sure.

But he wasn't your Steve.

Your Steve who was probably going to the ball alone, or maybe not even going.

"Is everything okay?" Damien asked, a concerned frown on his features.

"No, I- look, Damien," you took a deep breath. "I owe you an explanation, and I swear, I will give it to you, but I just… I can't do this anymore."

"What do you mean can't do this anymore? Do you not want to go to the ball or-"

"No," you closed your eyes forcefully before opening them, "us. I don't think we should be together anymore."

"Where is this coming from? Love, is everything o-"

"It's not okay, Damien!" tears welled up in your eyes, "It's not fair to you, I know. But I just… I have to go," you stepped away from his embrace.

"Go where? You're not making any sense, please, can you just-"

"I'm sorry, I am so, so sorry, but I have to go. I promise I'll explain everything, just… not right now," you said shakily, fumbling to collect your things before leaving the dorm, and a stunned Damien in your wake.

You weren't sure where you were going, you just knew you had to find him.

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You roamed the corridors in a bit of a daze until you finally realized your legs were carrying you to the library, and shook your head, deciding to go there anyway since there was a decent chance Steve was there.

He wasn't. You knocked on his dorm room door, but he didn't answer it, so he probably wasn't there either. You went to sneak a look at the ball, but you didn't find him there too.

You were just about to give up when you looked out of one of the windows. There, you saw the small glass gazebo that was a little further away from the building. The light was on, and there was someone there. You couldn't tell if it was Steve, but you figured it wouldn't hurt to try.

You went down the stairs and outside. The night was surprisingly crisp, and the dress you were wearing had short sleeves, but you continued anyway. As you got closer, you could see the silhouette clearer; it was indeed Steve.

You stopped a few yards next to it. Now that you found him, you didn't know what to say. I'm sorry didn't feel like enough, and –

Your train of thought was cut off by Steve turning around, his eyes locking with yours through the large glass windows. You swallowed heavily.

He went outside, crossing the distance and standing in front of you. Both of you were quiet for a moment before he spoke up.

"Not going to the ball?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I feel like it's obvious I'm not going. Where's your boyfriend?"

"I don't know."

Silence settled between you for a couple of minutes, each one of you absorbed in your own thoughts. Eventually, you were the one to speak up this time.

"I know you wrote them, Steve."

He chuckled. "Okay. What do you want me to say?"

"That you meant them," your voice broke with emotion, not knowing how true the words were until your lips uttered them out loud.

"I did. I do. I can't say I'm sorry for that."

"You shouldn't be," you said, "I'm that one that should be sorry. I am sorry," you looked up at him, your eyes sincere. "I'm sorry I didn't realize it was you sooner. And I don't mean the notes, Steve," you stepped closer to him.

"Then what do you mean?"

You licked your lips hesitantly, bringing your face closer to his. You didn't know which one of you finally broke the distance, but suddenly his lips were on yours, and it's all you could think about. You were kissing Steve Rogers, and it was enchanting. You wrapped your hands around his neck as he wrapped his around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You melted into his touch as your hands tangled in the soft hair on the nape of his neck. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek gently, and suddenly you were both smiling so hard you broke apart, gasping for air. Your foreheads stayed connected, leaning on each other as you slowly opened your eyes.

"This," you whispered, "I mean this. I love you, Steve."

"I love you too," Steve laughed, "so much. I was afraid you will never say that. That I'd never get to hear you say that to me. I love you," he said again, his eyes looking into yours.

Just at that moment, it bizarrely started to rain. "Really?" you looked up at the sky, "it's spring! Hell, it's almost summer!"

"Maybe it's summer rain," Steve suggested with a smile.

"But it ruined our moment," you playfully pouted.

"We always have another one," he smiled, pulling you in for another kiss, not minding the rain that was now wetting your dress, his suit. You felt the raindrops fall on the top of your heads, but the sensation was a thin echo compared to Steve's lips on yours.

A thunder roared, and you broke apart once again.

"Maybe we should get inside," you suggested.

"Maybe we should," he grinned, "last one there is a rotten egg!"

He started running before you could even register what he said. Just like he did when you were kids.

"Wait!" you laughed, running after him, gathering your skirt in your hands, "Not fair! I have a dress!"

He stopped and ran back to you before picking you up with ease, carrying you bridal style to the entrance and putting you down right on the threshold.

"You're a rotten egg, Stevie," you giggled.

He looked down to see that indeed, your legs were technically inside while his weren't.

"Don't worry," you cupped his cheek and tilted it upwards so he'd meet your gaze, "you're my rotten egg."

You both laughed before you went inside. He offered you his arm and you wove yours through it, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Taking your time, you strolled through the corridors in comfortable silence until you reached your room. You came inside and turned on the heating, Steve right on your heels, hugging you from behind.

"I can't believe it's raining," you looked out of the window with a smile.

"I can't believe you're mine," he whispered into your neck.

You tilted your head back to kiss him softly before you involuntarily shivered. Wordlessly, Steve guided you to the bed, tucking you into the blanket. He was about to leave, but you opened your blanket and gestured for him to come cuddle you. He chuckled and climbed in next to you, wrapping his arms around you again.

"Tell me a story," you said as you laid your head on his chest.

"Once upon a time," he started, "there was a very beautiful princess. And she chose a normal boy. No one knew why she did it. They asked her, 'why not a prince?' and sh-"

"And she said she didn't like princes, but she loved the boy more than anything else," you smiled.

"Wow, more than big libraries?" he chuckled.

"Yes, even more than big libraries," you giggled. Humming contently, you snuggled even closer to him, the rise and fall of his chest lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

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Which brings us to where we started this story, the next morning.

The story Steve's eyes told you that morning was better than any other story you've ever heard. It was a love story that you would tell your children, and your grandchildren.

And every time Steve heard you telling it, he sat and listened with a smile.

You once asked him why he always listens to that story, it's not like he didn't know it, he lived it.

"I did live it," he answered, "but I still live it, every single day. And it gets better with each day," he leaned down to kiss you.

Steve Rogers was the most wonderful of men, and over the years he grew to be the most wonderful of husbands, of fathers and of grandfathers.

You both grew, but there was one thing that stayed the same – his heart was yours, and your heart was his; forever.

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flower meanings:

Rose – love.

Honeysuckle - pure happiness, sweet love, devoted affection.

Hydrangea - gratitude, grace, beauty, abundance. some colors also symbolize bad luck.

Hibiscus - variously symbolizes health, delicacy, beauty, respect and hospitality.

Rhododendron – beware.

p.s. - the meanings are based on my limited searches, also there are some flowers with more than one meaning:)

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i’d love it if you’d want to tell me your thoughts!! if you’ve stuck through this entire thing - thank you!!!<3

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12 @starlightcrystalline @procrastinatingsapphictrash

if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

#chris evans x reader #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #Steve Rogers x Female Reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fluff #dark academia fic

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