#but i tried my best to find most appearence descriptions

[jestroer]

HERMITS IN DRESSES BACK WITH STRESSKALL!!

Inspired by wonderful, awesome, fantastic fic by @mawofthemagnetar The Sky Weighs Heavy Tonight!!! Couldn't stop thinking about their wedding dresses!!! :DDDDD

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

"obstinate, headstrong girl" part 1 - aaron hotchner x fem!reader

in which you meet the incredibly irritating (who said that?) aaron hotchner at a party. you do not hit it off.

wc: 4.6k

cw: enemies to lovers! mentions of food & alcohol, jemily agenda (i'm not sorry), reader is hella stubborn, hotch is kind of a little bitch

a/n: this is part 1 😈 there will be more, trust

big fat thank you to my bestie @cerisereids for all her help workshopping / brainstorming with me! i also got the BEAUTIFUL dividers from the immensely talented @saradika-graphics

You hate bars. Most of the time, they feel like a meat market, with men ogling you up and down, surveying you like they have x-ray vision and are trying to determine if you’re worth the chase. 

Tonight is slightly different in that you are not going to this particular bar to chat up men. Your very good friend, Penelope Garcia, invited you and your other friend, Jacqueline, to a bar for a coworker’s birthday. Not just any coworker. The coworker, the Derek Morgan, that Penelope just rants and raves about. They are soulmates, from what you understand, in a weirdly flirtatious, sibling-type relationship? 

Penelope has tried to explain it to you and has always ended up confusing both you and herself. It is what it is, she’s said in the past. He’s my chocolate thunder, and I’m his babygirl. 

You think it’s best not to try and unpack that. 

Jacqueline is a couple of years younger than you and Penelope. She’s just a couple of years out of college, whereas you’re a couple of years out of college, plus a couple more years. Jacqueline is sweet. She’s painfully shy, though, and you and Penelope are determined to break her out of her shell. There’s another coworker of Penelope’s who, from what you’ve heard, would be a perfect fit for Jacqueline. His name is Spencer, and he’s supposedly this young, cute genius. Like, actually a genius. Certifiably.

The goal tonight is for Penelope to find a moment to introduce Jacqueline and Spencer. You’re tagging along so that those intentions could be a little bit better masqueraded. You and Penelope also know for a fact that sweet, sheltered Jacqueline would not attend a party at a bar full of strangers by herself. 

You don’t mind being a chaperone, of sorts. Jacqueline is like a little sister. You just want her to be happy, so you don a cute red dress, pick up Jacqueline in an Uber, and off you go. 

The bar isn’t nearly as crowded as you thought it would be. It’s still busy, sure, but there’s enough room to walk around without bumping into someone. That seems to calm Jacqueline’s obvious nerves when you enter the establishment. Your eyes scan the place until you finally spot what appears to be a party room just off the main part of the bar, and you see a flash of familiar blonde hair with pink highlights. 

“There’s Penny,” you say to Jacqueline, and nudge her with your elbow to follow you. 

You’re the leader as you serpentine through the bar patrons, and Penelope turns around to spot you just as you reach her. “My sweets!” she squeals, wrapping both you and Jacqueline into a tight hug. “Thank you so much for coming!” Penelope gestures to the party room, which is open for integration into the rest of the bar. It all seems very flowy and casual, with guests either standing or sitting with a drink in hand, talking and laughing with one another. 

There’s a table in the corner with decadent cupcakes that you’d bet are homemade, all crowded on a tiered stand, and various birthday decorations hanging from the walls. The jukebox in the corner plays 80s and 90s hits. You spot the birthday boy in an instant across the room, and you know it’s him from Penelope’s ridiculously detailed descriptions. He’s like a cheetah, personified, Penelope said before, and yeah, that might be accurate. 

Except for the bright blue, glittery party hat strapped crookedly to his head and the sparkly sash around his shoulders that says BIRTHDAY BOY in big, bold letters. 

“There’s snacks, and water in the corner if you’re not feeling booze,” Penelope goes into full hostess mode and points to everything. “How about you lovelies get some drinks, and then I’ll introduce you around?” She suggests. 

Jacqueline is ever the quiet one in all social situations, and you can tell she is overwhelmed by the noise, or maybe the amount of people that she doesn’t know. You know that she would be a little less nervous with a drink in her system, so you nod to Penelope’s suggestion and agree to meet up with her after visiting the bar. 

Jacqueline follows you like a lost puppy as you snake through the crowd again. One of the few perks of being pretty women, though, is that once you reach the bustling bar, your orders are quickly taken. 

You get an amaretto sour for yourself, a Malibu pineapple for Jacqueline, and she leans against the bar next to you as you wait for your drinks. “Lots of people here!” Jacqueline exclaims with a sheepish chuckle. She smooths the ends of her cinnamon-colored bob, one of her nervous habits you’ve picked up on over the few years you’ve been friends. 

“Yeah, but we love Penny, and she loves all the people in there,” You nod towards the party room. “So it’s like we know they’re cool by association, y’know?” 

“I guess,” Jacqueline shrugs, unconvinced. She’s lived a fairly sheltered life, from what you understand. Strict parents, so she never dated in high school, and always focused on her studies in college rather than a social life. It’s good to get her out of her shell. 

You’re given your drinks and you head back to the party room, where Penelope is speaking to two men. They’re both tall, but one is younger, with brown hair and a patterned sweater vest. The other is older, with dark, nearly obsidian, hair, and stark, narrowed eyes to match. He’s in dark, belted jeans, with a black polo to match his hair. When you and Jacqueline approach Penelope, you lock eyes with the older man for a fleeting moment.

He looks at you like you’re an outsider. And sure, maybe in this particular situation, you are. But with his tapered eyes, watching your every breath, you get the feeling that he thinks you shouldn’t be here. 

Penelope ushers you and Jacqueline into the conversation and introduces you. “This is Y/N, and Jacqueline, my two really good friends,” she says, then gestures to the lanky, younger man first. “This is the brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid, and the Unit Chief of the BAU, Aaron Hotchner.” 

Your eyes land on Aaron and he outstretches his hand, obviously out of obligation. “Pleasure to meet you both,” Aaron says coolly, and you shake his hand chastely. Your eyes flicker over to where Jacqueline shakes Dr. Reid’s hand. He’s already insisting she call him Spencer. 

Penelope was right, you think. Spencer and Jacqueline have an immediate connection. 

“Likewise,” you say to Aaron, merely matching the indifferent energy he’s putting out. Penelope, in true hostess fashion, excuses herself to check on Derek, leaving the four of you in an awkward conversation square, with Aaron and Spencer facing you and Jacqueline directly. 

“Penelope says you’re all in a book club together?” Spencer proffers as a conversation starter. He’s looking directly at Jacqueline, like he’s got tunnel vision, like she’s the only other person in the room. 

She nods and sips her cocktail through the thin plastic straw. “We’ve been going through the classics, one by one. Started with Pride and Prejudice a couple of years ago, now we’re working on War and Peace,” she explains. 

“Oh, fascinating,” Spencer seems incredibly interested by this. “I love Tolstoy. Did you know his wife, Sophia, helped him tremendously during the editing process? Over seven years, she hand wrote the manuscript eight different times, all while carrying and birthing four children.” 

Jacqueline loves weird facts like this, so she beams. You smile softly at this and are immediately met with thoughts of how tooth-achingly sweet these two would be if they got together. 

You and Aaron play audience as Spencer and Jacqueline’s conversation continues for a few moments more, until finally, Spencer suggests they sit at a booth to continue. Jacqueline shoots you a look, like, sorry for abandoning you with the grumpy guy! And you merely shrug as you are left alone with Aaron. 

“Well, aren’t they just adorable?” You flash a bright smile, and when your eyes meet Aaron’s, it falls. He’s so stoic and unemotional. You know he’s just standing with you to be polite, but at the same time, if he’s so uninterested in having a conversation with you, why is he still here? 

Aaron gives an impassive hum of civil agreement, and you clear your throat. “So, you’re Penelope’s boss, then?” you ask, rather than simply make an excuse to leave this awkward, cringey hellhole of a conversation. Maybe some petty part of you wants to see who will break first. 

“That’s correct,” Aaron’s fingers are wrapped around the glass tumbler of what is presumably whiskey that is in his hand. His forearm flexes a little as he shifts the glass in his palm. 

“What’s that like, working for the FBI?” you ask, shifting your weight to one hip as if to tell him that you’re getting comfortable, that he shouldn’t expect to go anywhere. 

“About the same as working anyplace else, I’d expect,” Aaron’s giving you absolutely nothing to work with, so you’re incredibly thankful when Penelope approaches the two of you again. 

“Oh, look at that!” Penelope squeals, squeezing your arm. She nods over to Spencer and Jacqueline, sitting across from one another at a booth, both leaning forward on the table, endearingly engaged in conversation with each other.

Jacqueline’s babyish face is plastered with an earnest smile, and you love seeing your friend so captivated and clearly in her element with Spencer. 

Penelope was right, they’re clearly well-suited. 

Unlike you and Aaron. 

“And what are you two talking about over here?” Penelope croons, waving a teasing finger between you and Aaron. 

“Not anything in particular,” Aaron’s deep voice beats you to it, and you feel your jaw tense slightly. He avoids contact with you, just stares at Spencer and Jacqueline. 

“Yeah, Penny, I was hoping you’d introduce me to the rest of your team,” you suggest, smiling saccharinely at Aaron before making pleading eyes to your darling blonde friend. 

Penelope’s chocolatey brown eyes dart from you, to Aaron, and back, and you can almost see the gears shift in her head. “Right,” she gets it, and you nearly sigh in relief. “C’mon then, Y/N, let me show you off!” 

You nod curtly to Aaron. “Nice meeting you,” you spout off, totally out of obligation. 

“Likewise,” says Aaron, mirroring how you’d thrown the terse colloquialism at him before. 

Your nostrils flare and Penelope manages to drag you away before you rip him a new one. “What the hell is all the animosity about?” Penelope asks as soon as you’re out of earshot. You see that Derek, the birthday boy, has approached Aaron in your absence. 

“Not animosity,” you correct Penelope, taking a chug of your Malibu pineapple. “He doesn’t like me, for some reason. Seemed to have made his mind up on that real fast.” 

Penelope scoffs. “Hotch?” You deduce quickly that this is Aaron’s nickname. “He’s such a sweetheart. You must have just caught him in a bad moment, Y/N. I swear, he’s one of the sweetest guys I know!” 

You purse your lips and feign an open mind. Penelope introduces you to the rest of her team - David, an older Italian man whose glass of wine cost about three times as much as your cocktail, then JJ and Emily, a blonde and a raven-haired woman who are obviously in love. 

Emily’s got her palm splayed across the small of JJ’s back, and the blonde leans into her touch. You wonder briefly how their relationship was approved by Aaron Hotchner, because, as you understand it, he’s their boss and he can be quite the stickler. 

“He can be a grump at times, that’s for sure,” Emily says before taking a sip of her wine. “But he’s a really great boss. He’d do anything for any one of us.” 

“Including going to bat for us staying on the team together after our relationship became public,” JJ adds, and you furrow your brows, shooting a sideways glance to the man in question. He’s still across the room, speaking with Derek, leaning against an empty spot on the wall and nursing his glass tumbler of whiskey. 

That guy? You think. That guy went to bat for the benefit of other people? 

“That surprises me,” you admit. “He was so cold when we spoke just a few minutes ago.” 

JJ, Emily, and Penelope all seem to share a look. They clearly know something you don’t. “Well,” Penelope starts, her voice inclining. “He’s sort of… going through a hard time right now,” she scrunches up her nose and shrugs her shoulders, as if to indicate that she can’t really say more on the matter. 

It’s none of your business, you remind yourself, but you also want to smack Penelope for dangling a carrot like that. 

“If he comes off obtrusive, just know you’re not experiencing the real Hotch,” JJ concludes. You spot Emily squeezing her hip as if to say that’s a good way to put it. 

Whatever that means, you think, and shrug your shoulders. “No skin off my back,” you attempt to appear nonchalant. Hopefully they won’t be able to tell that the thought of someone not liking you makes you want to rip your hair out. 

“Right,” Emily agrees, just as JJ and Penelope share a look. 

The two blondes smirk at each other. Simultaneously, they say, “Profilers.” And you wonder what the hell that’s supposed to mean. 

Over the next thirty minutes, you’re shown around the room by Penelope, introduced to a few more people. Finally, Penelope notices that the cupcakes are all gone and runs off to the kitchen, where she has more store in case of this very specific emergency.

You find yourself tucked away at a table in the corner of the party room, halfway hidden by the imposing and comically large jukebox. As you scan the room, you notice Jacqueline and Spencer still at the booth, still engaged in what appears to be very riveting conversation. Jacqueline’s got this demure, girlish smile on her face, and lightly flushed cheeks. 

“What do you make of that?” A voice asks, and you don’t see anyone around. You lean back in your seat and can see through the sliver of visibility between the jukebox and the wall. That Italian man, David, has just asked Aaron the question, gesturing across the room to where Spencer and Jacqueline sit. 

“Hm,” is all Aaron has to say, and you scowl, furrowing your brows as you watch him watch your friend. “She seems nice enough. Kind of a dud, though, isn’t she?” 

“A dud?” David repeats, scoffing. “She’s been keeping up with Boy Wonder for nearly an hour now. I’d say she’s either an alien or a miracle.” 

Damn straight, you think. 

“I suppose,” says Aaron, and you roll your eyes. He must hold an ungodly amount of pride. Probably totes it along with his stupidly expensive whiskey and his judgmental expressions and opinions about people he doesn’t know. Sure, you’re casting judgment on someone you don’t know, too. But this is different… somehow. Jacqueline is obviously very earnest and sweet, and Aaron is acting like he’s suspicious of her.

“Garcia’s other friend seems sweet,” David goes on to say. You’re not ashamed to admit that your ears perk up a little at this. “She’s fun. Asked me about my wine. Made a joke about cutting a rug with me on the dance floor.” 

“She’s something,” Aaron exhales as he says this, and you feel your jaw tighten a little. 

Something? What the hell does that mean? 

“What the hell does that mean?” David shares your train of thought, though his voice is lined with an omniscient, teasing lilt. “She’s cute. You don’t want to ask her for her number?” 

“No,” Aaron says quickly, too quickly. “No, I’m not even slightly tempted.” 

You feel your ears burn, and you look down at the empty glass in your hand. This has been your only drink tonight, and you’ve been nursing it for the better part of an hour. You let the condensation slicken your palm.

“What’s the matter with you?” David goes on to ask. “She’s very sweet, and she’s got a great sense of humor. And she’s beautiful, I might add. Why aren’t you interested?” 

You stand up from your seat, deciding you’ve had enough eavesdropping for one night. You don’t want to hear what faults Aaron Hotchner saw in you after a three-minute conversation. Feeling a bit self-protective, you march past David and Aaron without so much as looking at either of them. You don’t know if they notice you. 

You resolve not to care. 

Jacqueline joins you at the bar about thirty minutes later, and is smiling like an idiot.“So, Spencer’s really nice,” she says, breaking out her ID so she can buy another drink. She’s so smooth-skinned and utterly gorgeous that she does, in fact, get ID’d every time she orders a drink. 

“Yeah?” You smirk at Jacqueline just as the bartender comes back with your second drink and takes your friend’s order. “He seems really into you, too.” Even if his friend is a massive prick.

“I think we’re gonna go out,” Jacqueline beams, biting her lip anxiously. “Like, on a date.”

“That’s great!” You grin, glancing behind Jacqueline to see Spencer speaking with Aaron across the now-dwindling crowd. At this point, there’s just a handful of patrons for the bar, and only Penelope’s team remains in the party room for Derek. “You should! He’s obviously very polite, maintains good conversation. I’m only seeing green flags.” Except that his boss is a judgmental tool. 

“I just get so nervous, y’know?” Your friend says as the bartender brings her drink. 

“I know you do, sweetie, but he’s just a guy,” you begin. “He’s not some cosmic being who will alter the trajectory of your entire life simply by taking you on a date. He’s-”

“What?” Jacqueline follows your eyes, whipping her head around with no amount of subtlety. Her cinnamon curls flounce as she notices the same thing you are. Aaron’s staring at you, those unrelenting raven eyes. What’s he trying to do, burn a hole through your head? 

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you mutter. 

“What is it?” Jacqueline’s constantly aware of the people around her. It’s a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse, since you’re her Emotional Support Friend. 

“I just… don’t worry about it,” you wave it away, not wanting to stress her out. 

“No, what is it?” God. He’s still looking at you, maintaining his conversation with Spencer. You let your gaze wander and you see his lips moving. Is he talking about you so blatantly? 

You suppose you’re talking about him, but still. 

“I just don’t like Aaron, that’s all.” 

“Why not?” Jacqueline’s nutmeg brows furrow, and you meet her confused expression with a shrug. 

“We just don’t vibe. Don’t worry about it, Jackie, seriously,” you nod. “I’m not gonna, like, challenge him to a duel.” 

Before Jacqueline can attempt to defend someone she doesn’t know (God bless her), Penelope’s waving at you from the party room and beckoning the two of you towards her. 

You and Jacqueline grab your drinks and oblige. Derek and Emily are shifting tables out of the way, creating a small, makeshift dance floor in the middle of the party room. 

JJ is queuing up a few songs on the jukebox, and when “Take My Breath Away” by Berlin comes filtering through the speakers, a slightly tipsy Penelope is singing into her margarita and demanding that Derek slow dance with her. 

You end up standing by Spencer and Aaron, to your dismay, and you think for a second that Spencer isn’t going to ask Jacqueline to dance. That wouldn’t be totally out of character, but he does, and Jacqueline’s beaming, leaving you alone with Aaron. 

You let out a slightly annoyed huff and stir your cocktail with the little plastic red straw. You meet his unwavering gaze with narrowed eyes. “Do you like to dance?” You ask with half-assed interest. 

“Not if I can help it,” Aaron says, and you wonder for a moment if he’s joking. The ever-serious look on his face says otherwise. 

“I was looking for a pretty young lady!” A voice cuts in, and you turn to see David Rossi, of all people, standing before you. 

You smile softly. You know he isn’t flirting, he isn’t romantically interested in you, that he’s just being a nice older man and going out of his way to make you feel included. And you can’t help but feel warmth from him. “We were just talking about dancing,” you bring him into the conversation, clocking how Aaron’s jaw visibly tenses. 

“Ah, dancing. I remember when we had clubs all up and down the streets. You could go in and just dance until your feet hurt,” David prattles, and you purse your lips in the side of your mouth. He only looks like he’s in his early sixties, but you resist the urge to call him old, to tell him he’s acting like a grandpa. 

“Do you like to dance?” Aaron’s asking you all of a sudden. You spot Penelope and Derek slow dancing as well as Spencer and Jacqueline. Emily and JJ have even joined in on the fun. 

“I do,” you say simply, pursing your lips at him. And maybe it’s a little mean, but you look at David and plaster a devilish little grin on your face and hold out your hand. “Dave? Wanna cut a rug with me?” 

Aaron watches as Rossi throws his head back in one of those wheezy, old man laughs. 

“It’s been a long time since a pretty young lady asked me to dance,” the Italian man jokes, and Aaron knows that is simply not true. As a best-selling author, Rossi weirdly gets a lot of groupies. 

Aaron feels like he has a smokescreen up, and behind it, he’s fuming. He’s not jealous of Rossi, because he knows Dave’s just being friendly. But Aaron doesn’t think it shouldn’t be Dave dancing with you. It should be him. 

He doesn’t know why he told you he doesn’t dance. Maybe it’s this whole divorce with Haley. It was finalized nearly six months ago, but Aaron’s still reeling from it, he supposes. He’s not been on a date. He’s not even so much as looked at another woman in a romantic capacity, until you walked in tonight. Your hair looks so shiny, your face made up all glowy, like you literally have a halo hovering over you. 

It’s incredibly frustrating.

He didn’t know what to do. He panicked. He doesn’t want to see anyone right now, or at least, that’s what he’s been telling himself for the past six months. He wants to focus on his job and on being a good dad to Jack. 

But, god, the way your dress hits you right above the knee. He wants desperately to see your thighs. He’s been thinking about them all night, actually, how supple the skin might be, how sensitive. That’s why he’s been so cold to you all night - he’s trying to push you out of his mind, trying to focus on anything else. But you’ve got an attitude and a good sense of humor, and he couldn’t help but stare. 

It’s the same way he can’t help but stare now, when Rossi places one hand on your waist and clasps your other one. You’ve got one palm on Rossi’s shoulder, the other holding your drink as you occasionally sip it. 

You’re laughing and Rossi’s got crows’ feet from smiling, and he sways with you to the music. That song from Top Gun. Aaron wonders briefly if you’re old enough to have even seen Top Gun in the theater. 

You’re young. You’re not too young, per se, but you’re right on the line, Aaron thinks. He’s gripping his tumbler of whiskey - his third since you entered the party because god, does he need a vice right now - and his jaw is clenched as he watches Rossi twirl you out. 

Your laugh is heavenly and melodic and Aaron, for a split second, considers leaving just because of it. 

Aaron leans against the wall by the jukebox, the odd man out, with your friend Jacqueline dancing with Spencer, Garcia with Morgan, and, of course, JJ with Emily. He doesn’t mind being the odd man out, watching his team have a good time. It’s you he feels excluded from. 

Okay, maybe you’re not totally sober, you realize, as David twirls you out a second time. You hold on tight to your drink, but your steps aren’t completely precise, and your back slams into a muscled chest with a clumsy grunt. Amaretto sour splashes over the side of your glass and onto a pair of brown, Italian loafers. 

Gargantuan hands graze down your elbows, then clench your forearms as you regain your balance, and you turn around to see the brick wall of a person you’ve run into. Aaron’s stupidly dark, hazelnut eyes are drawing down your body. They bore into you and you feel your entire face flush, all the way down to your collarbone. 

“You spilled your drink,” Aaron exhales sharply through his nose, and you feel your expression harden. 

“It was an accident,” you bite back, taking a step away from him, enforcing the space you desperately need to keep from clawing his eyes out. You don’t hate people. But, god, is this man getting under your skin.

Aaron opens his mouth, and you think for a split-second that he’s about to reassure you. But he just clamps his mouth shut, into a straight line like a ruler. “Right,” is all he says. You take a deep, serrated breath and turn pointedly on your heel. 

As you return to David to dance, Derek cuts in, and you and Penelope swap partners. Derek is respectful as he places a hand round the small of your back, and you smile softly when you see Jacqueline and Spencer. They’re barely moving, and Jacqueline’s gray-green eyes are looking up into Spencer’s brown ones, and you nod in their direction. “God, they’re cute, aren’t they?” 

“It’s a miracle Pretty Boy’s lasted this long,” Derek chuckles. You arch a brow at this, so he continues. “He doesn’t do too well with the ladies. Not like yours truly,” he jokes, flashing his teeth. 

“Oh, please,” you tease playfully. You tug at his sparkly blue birthday sash to further your point. Derek laughs and spins you around. 

“So what’s going on with you and Hotch?” Derek asks. You roll your eyes. 

“Nothing,” you insist. “I barely know him. I barely know any of you, besides Penelope. God, you guys are really mixed up in each other’s lives, huh? I’m definitely not that close with my coworkers.” 

“Oh, we’re not just close,” Derek laughs. “We’re family.” 

“And Aaron is, what, the overbearing father?” You ask. You’ve had a couple drinks, and your filter is more or less nonexistent. 

“See, I knew there was something going on between you two,” Derek teases. You glare at him. He holds one hand up defensively. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop, but you’re in for trouble, sweetheart.” 

“How so?” 

Derek nods over to Jacqueline and Spencer. Both their feet are still planted in the same spot, but they’re swaying together. It’s dorky as hell, but so cute you could cry. You understand what Derek means before he even says it. “You’re about to become friends-in-law. The more Jacqueline sees Spencer, the more you see Hotch.” 

Your eyes flicker over to the man in question, now sitting at a table and talking with David. There’s some kind of magnetic tug, and Aaron’s eyes meet yours, and your knees buckle a little beneath you. Either you’re drunker than you thought, or you really are in trouble.  

edit: read part 2 here

[mcuamerica]

Stranded | Part One

Featuring (in the next part): Azriel x Fem!Reader, Eris x Reader (platonic), Rhys x Sister!Reader

Summary: Azriel left you in the Autumn Court border while Rhys was at a ball with Amarantha and the other High Lords, leaving you trapped outside of Velaris with the enemy... Requested by @sidthedollface2 here.

Warnings: 18+ only, description of wings and skin burning, misogyny, alludes to SA, let me know if anything was forgotten...

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Dividers from @saradika

You stood in your black and navy dress, feeling ridiculously out of place next to the maroons, dark greens, and golds of the Autumn Court. While Azriel, one of your best friends and your brother's Spymaster, escorted you to the Court, he quickly forgot his guard duty and winnowed away to find Mor.

"Mor's upset. I gotta go." Was his excuse, leaving you alone and outcast in the Forest House. According to Azriel, taking care of a safe female in Velaris (that he had puppy dog eyes for) was more important than guarding of the Lady of the Night Court in enemy territory. You were sure Rhys would be pissed if you decided to tell him about Azriel's disappearance.

You were starting to feel tired and bored as you stood on the wall, so you decided to leave. If you could get out of the Forest House bounds and cross the wards, you could winnow back to the town home. You really wanted to get out of this dress and take a nice bath. The Autumn chill wasn’t terrible, but you missed the summer breeze in your city.

You walked out of the court, watching as most of the Autumn Court guards paid you no attention. As you made your way out of the Forest House, you took in the fresh air. It was always too stuffy and crowded in ballrooms for you. You were glad to be outside. At least you could stretch your wings out here.

You tested your winnowing abilities as you made way through the wards. However, just as you made to winnow back home, your magic stuttered. You let out a small gasp, trying to reach down to that deep pool of darkness, but just a small puddle was left. You took another breath, trying to recall what you drank. You came up empty, literally, as you didn’t take any drink offered throughout the night.

You heard Rhys’s voice ring through your head. “Keep Velaris safe. Don’t tell anyone. Amarantha has taken our magic. Be careful. Protect the city. Protect each other.” And then he went silent. Your mind… you tried reaching out to him but nothing happened.

You started to panic, looking around to see if somehow Azriel came back for you. But from what you could tell, you were alone. You almost turned back to enter the Forest House. But, with Autumn being nothing short of an enemy, you decided to chance your luck with the forest in front of you. It was too wooded to take off from your current spot, so maybe you could find a clearing ahead.

Taking a deep breath, keeping calm, you started to walk north. If you could make it to Winter, maybe Kallias would allow you to cross into Night uninterrupted. Winter was normally your closest ally, and you quite liked the High Lord when you met him.

You walked for a few minutes, taking deep, calming breaths as you made your way deeper into the woods. Every sound sent a shiver down your spine, and you were just waiting to see that clearing of trees.

Instead, three males approached from the right. You took a deep breath, tucking in your wings as you pressed against a tree. The males appeared drunk, but stable. They weren’t stumbling just yet, but you could smell the alcohol from where you stood. Which meant they would catch your scent as soon as the wind turned.

You took another deep breath, walking forward. They couldn't touch a member of the Night Court. They would be butchered for it. You kept your head high as you continued to walk, only pausing when one of the males called out to you.

"Hey! What are you doing out in these woods?" Sentinels. That's the kind of clothing they wore. They were guards for the forest.

"I'm going home. Can't winnow." You said, tucking in your wings in hope they wouldn't see them in the shadows of the night. You tried to will the darkness to you as you normally would, as Rhys taught you to, but only a little bit of it budged. Amarantha took the High Lords powers... meaning each and every other power tied to their court would be restricted even more.

"Unfortunate. You look like you're a long way from home, as an Illyrian." He said, stalking over to you. It seemed they had no problem provoking a member of the Night Court.

"I am lady of the Night Court. I need to get to my people." You said.

"Ahh, the Night Court." Another one said in a mocking tone. "Lady? You look little more than a whore to me." He said and walked from behind his friend, backing you into a tree. "Shall we see what the Night Court thinks of us when we burn its lady's wings to ashes?" He asked, fire flickering on his finger tips.

Of course. They were in their home Court. No matter how little magic the High Lord had, the land would provide more of it. "My brother will incinerate you if you do."

"My brother." The male teased in a high pitched voice. "Who? Rhysand? That little bastard?" He asked, hand nearing your wing. "He won't even care when we're done with you." He said.

You tried to side step, but two sets of arms restrained you. And then came the pain.

You let out a blood curdling scream as hot, burning flames enveloped your wings. Along with the bark of the tree behind you cutting into your tendons. You fought as hard as you could, pulling away from the males as best you could. The males dug deeper, surely drawing blood from your arms but you didn't know as the fire tore through your wings. Over your pain and screams, you heard a belt unbuckle.

"Never fucked an Illyrian before. Let's see if what they say is true." The male in front of you said. You continued to struggle, but the pain of your wings burning was too much. The smell of the membrane and, gods... the skin of your back, was enough to make you pass out. But you stayed conscious, willed the little magic in you to cast a net of darkness around your wings. You prayed to the Mother that the darkness would snuff out just one tendril of the flames.

Your screams must have alerted the guards of the Forest House, because next thing you knew, a familiar voice was commanding the males to step away. You fell to the ground as the males released you. As quickly as the flames enveloped your wings, the were snuffed out. That didn't mean your wings were repaired. They were completely in ruins. Torn in almost every place, tendons burnt to a crisp that the most important ones had snapped. Your back was raw, blisters forming on the skin. Even the braid that cascaded down your back was burnt, leaving your hair singed and ragged against your shoulders.

You whimpered, the small ounces of your magic working to heal whatever it could.

"Lady (Y/N)," You heard that familiar voice again. You couldn't move. You couldn't look up. Who was talking to you? "It's Eris... we need to get you to a healer before this gets worse." The High Lord's heir said.

"Worse?" You rasped, your voice nearly inaudible because of your screams. You couldn't bring yourself to keep talking. Only thinking in your head as your body sagged further into the ground, nothing is worse than this.

Azriel's back seized in pain, a terrible, yet amazing feeling snapping in his gut.

Rhys had spoken to them mind to mind just minutes ago, telling them what happened. And leaving Amren in charge of them.

Azriel couldn't leave Velaris. Whatever magic Rhys threw out completely shut the wards and borders. He couldn't winnow to his High Lord. And more importantly, he couldn't winnow to you. He asked Mor to try and get out, but she was stuck as well. Rhys trapped them inside the city, effectively trapping you outside as well.

Only thing is, Rhys expected Azriel to be with you. To protect you and get you home safely from Autumn. Instead, he went to Mor because she was upset about something. And left you stranded.

He was just about to tell the others that they needed to find a way out when the pain and the snap hit. In a few blinks, his entire world shifted.

The others went silent as Azriel jerked where he stood, his wings fluttering behind him.

"Azriel?" Cassian asked, frowning as his brother jerked again.

Azriel took a few deep breaths as the pain died down, and then came to the horrible realization of what snapped in his gut.

"(Y/N)-" He paused and stared at his family. The ones that might just kill him when he said what he was about to. "(Y/N) is in the Autumn Court."

"What? I thought she came back with you?" Mor said.

"She's in the Autumn Court," Azriel stated again, ignoring Mor, "and she is my mate."

Part Two

A/N: Oof... this was so fun to write!

Main Masterlist

[deepwaterwritingprompts]

Big Deep Water News 🪼🪼🪼

As some of you might know, I write not just two sentence prompts, but full length manuscripts as well. Following beta sourced from the followers of this very blog, I’ve been querying the most recent, titled BORDERLINE, intermittently for about a year.

And, as of this week, I’ve officially signed with a literary agent and am now represented by Stephen Barbara at Inkwell Management.

Prompts will continue as I work on some edits (and my regular job) and dream the manuscript gets picked up and published. If you’re interested, here’s a link to the tag on my personal, and the description below the cut!

I’ll definitely be sharing any news that comes up on this topic. It’s pretty wild but here we are. Stay weird, keep writing, and love always,

- Lilia 💫

Lin O’Leary keeps her eyes closed. That’s how you survive in the town of Florida: small, slightly run down, and sitting right on a rip in reality. Known to locals as ‘the borderline’, all anyone knows for sure is that it ate town darling Momo Kasahara six years ago, and is best left alone. Lin, a high school dropout now working at the world’s weirdest corner store, tries not to dwell on the girl she might have loved if she’d had the chance. No real friends or future, she accepts midnight shifts, saves her pennies, and ignores the faceless entity seeking instant oatmeal. 

When a grown up Momo appears one night like a ghost in the snack aisle, everything changes. Lin is sure that finding her will cure the strange gloom that’s been hanging over her and her town for so long. Remaining twin Bo Kasahara just wants his family whole again, and touring paranormal vlogger Julien True sees his chance to shoot the pilot episode of his dreams. Together the three of them must learn how to cross the borderline, unraveling the terrible secrets of Florida one by one until their rescue mission is successful. Because Momo is not a ghost at all. 

Momo Kasahara is impossible to find and furious about it. Her hometown is an otherworldly shadow, her mind is definitely going, and her only neighbors treat her with eldritch indifference…most of the time. Stuck somewhere just outside of existence, she knows she must save herself soon, before she forgets what it means to be human.

[imsuperhungry]

4 𝙖𝙢

ᴇɴᴛʀʏ 003

(yandere until dawn)

WARNINGS: Yandere Themes, Bad Descriptions

WORD COUNT: 1654

"all the girls are girling!"

(9:12 𝖯𝖬, 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖢𝖠𝖡𝖨𝖭)

After a few more minutes of holding Josh and reassuring him that I would be fine with Mike and Jess, he finally released his grip. His reluctance was clear, but I could sense him slowly letting go. With a heavy sigh, he allowed me to step away from the basement, the lingering weight of his concern still in the air as I moved toward the light outside.

When I reached the main floor of the cabin, I found everyone there except for Emily and Matthew. They were all gathered in their own groups, engaged in conversation, but the absence of the two left a noticeable gap in the group. I glanced around, wondering where they might be.

“Where are Em and Matt?” I asked, glancing around the room. A knot of concern formed in my stomach at the thought that Jess and Emily might have started another argument while I was gone. 

“Emily left her bag at one of the cable stations,” Chris said, stretched out on a vacant couch. “She went back to grab it and took Matt with her.”

I let out a sigh of relief; Emily was okay. Smiling, I turned to Chris and thanked him for the update. As I looked over at Mike and Jess, I noticed they were positioned by the door, clearly ready to leave as soon as I was. Their eagerness to leave was obvious in the way they looked at me.

I turned to everyone else to say my goodbyes, deciding to keep things brief since I’d be back soon. However, as I started to wrap things up, everybody except Jess and Mike began to hug me tightly, as if it might be the last time they’d see me. Their warmth and sincerity caught me off guard, making the moment feel more significant than I had anticipated.

After the long hug, I made my way to the door where Mike and Jess were waiting. As I turned to wave one last time to everyone, I reached for the handle, only to have my hand gently pushed aside. Mike was clearly determined to be a gentleman, insisting on opening the door for us.

With a soft “Sorry,” I stepped out into the snowy chaos, Jess sticking to my side like glue. As we began our walk, an awkward feeling settled in, making me feel like the third wheel on their date. I glanced at them, noticing the easy rapport between Mike and Jess, and I couldn't shake the sense that I was intruding on a moment meant for just the two of them.

I tried to stay quiet the entire way, hoping to give them space to flirt or enjoy each other's company. Instead, Jess took it upon herself to fill in the silence.

“Oh my gosh, _____, I totally forgot to show you!” Jess exclaimed, digging through her coat pocket. “While Mike and I were driving here, we passed this store filled with jewelry, so naturally, we had to check it out.” With a flourish, she held out her hand, revealing two stunning necklaces that sparkled in the dim moonlight.

Each necklace showcased a heart-shaped pendant: one in a soft, warm gold tone and the other in a cool, shiny silver. Both were complemented by fine, slender chains that enhanced their delicate appearance. The heart pendants featured intricately engraved borders, lending a thoughtful and personalized touch that made them even more special.

My mouth dropped open in awe as I continued to admire both necklaces. To say they were beautiful would be an understatement; they were undoubtedly the most stunning necklaces I had ever seen. The craftsmanship and detail captivated me, making it hard to look away.

“And wait, that’s not even the best part!” Jess exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She picked up one of the necklaces and gently opened the heart, revealing that it was actually a locket.

I let out a giggle of delight; the necklaces were such an incredible gift. Overwhelmed with gratitude, I wrapped Jess in a warm hug, momentarily pausing our snowy walk.

I felt Mike tug at my hand and turned to find him staring at me with a playful grin. “Hey, I had to walk her all around the store to buy those,” he said, chuckling. “She dragged me through the aisles for almost an hour, completely dedicated to finding the ‘perfect one,’” he added, emphasizing the last part with exaggerated air quotes.

I understood the hint and opened my arms to embrace him. Jess wrapped her arms around my left side while Mike took my right. They were so close that I could catch the scent of Jess's perfume mingling with Mike's cologne.

Jess smelled of baby powder, with a hint of something sweet underneath. In contrast, Mike carried the scent I expected—woodsy and outdoorsy, evoking the fresh air of the wilderness.

Eventually, I had to let go, eager to resume our trek and find somewhere warm, as the cold was already biting at my skin. The chill in the air served as a reminder that we needed to keep moving, and I was determined to find a cozy refuge soon.

“We need to find a picture to put in these lockets,” Jess said, handing me the gold one with a bright smile. “It would be so cute to carry a little piece of us wherever I go.” As she spoke, she began fastening the silver locket around her neck, her excitement evident. 

I began to follow her lead, trying to fasten the gold locket around my neck, but once again, my hands were gently pushed aside. A larger hand reached in from behind me, softly taking the locket from my grasp.

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” Mike said with a grin i could hear, “Just keep walking.” As we continued to move forward, he expertly fastened the locket around my neck. The cold air made the heavy metal locket chill against my skin, causing me to shiver as it settled on my chest.

After a few more minutes of walking, we finally arrived at the guest cabin, where Mike and Jess had practically been banished to by Josh.

I said my goodbyes at the cabin, but, of course, I was yanked into yet another bone-crushing hug, sandwiched between Mike and Jess. They invited me to stay with them, but I politely declined, aware that Emily—or anyone else in the group—wouldn't be thrilled with that idea. I appreciated their warmth, but I knew it was best to keep the peace among everyone.

As I began my walk back to the main cabin alone, a horrible gut feeling nagged at me, suggesting something was wrong. I couldn't pinpoint the source of my unease, but it was unsettling enough to quicken my pace. The desire for company grew stronger with each step, urging me to reach the warmth of the main cabin as quickly as possible.

I guess you only truly appreciate how cold a snowstorm can be when you're alone; the chill felt even more intense in the solitude. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets and started to bolt toward the cabin, urgency pushing me to move faster than just a walk.

Reaching the cabin in just a few moments, I quickly opened the door and shut it behind me as I stepped inside. The warmth from the fire Josh had lit earlier enveloped me, instantly lifting my spirits and bringing a smile to my face.

The cabin was empty, a clear sign that everyone had gone off to do their own things. I stood there for a moment, basking in the warmth, genuinely feeling better than I had in a long time. But then, I heard the floorboards begin to creak, breaking the silence and making my heart skip a beat.

I froze in fear, silently praying to whatever was above that a stray rabbit had somehow snuck in. Despite my apprehension, I slowly ventured toward the source of the creaking, taking cautious steps with short strides and even shorter breaths. I couldn’t quite understand why I was so scared, but an unsettling feeling gripped me as I approached, heightening my senses and making every sound feel amplified in the quiet cabin.

I scanned the area, finding nothing out of the ordinary. The three couches sat neatly arranged, the low-hanging chandelier, and the fireplace crackled reassuringly—all seemed perfectly normal. Yet, despite the familiar surroundings, a sense of unease lingered in the air, making me second-guess the tranquility of the space.

And then it happened: a loud "BOO!" echoed behind me, and I let out the loudest scream I had in ages. The sound rang out, leaving my throat feeling raw from the sudden burst of terror, and I instinctively slammed my eyes shut, my heart racing.

Then I heard that same familiar, cackling laugh that I recognized from countless similar moments. It was a sound that brought both exasperation and relief, and I realized I should have seen it coming. A mix of annoyance and amusement washed over me as I opened my eyes and turned around, finding Chris hunched over, laughing.

I rolled my eyes and waited for Chris to finish his fit of laughter. I didn’t have the energy to yell at him; the long walk had really taken a toll on me. 

As his laughing died down, he began to sit and look at me, a look of regret, yet still amusement clear on his face. 

“Sorry, sorry!” he said, raising his hands in the air as if to surrender. “It’s just too fun seeing you scream like that. I was actually on the way to find a Ouija board.” A wide grin spread across his face, clearly relishing the moment.

I rolled my eyes once more and plopped down onto one of the couches, lethargy washing over me. My eyes shut as I curled into a ball, hoping to sneak in a quick nap.

I had no idea there were a pair of eyes watching my exchange with Chris, nor did I realize how angry their owner was.

[nerdieforpedro]

Her smile was worth it

Pero Tovar (modern AU) x plus size female reader (La jefa)

Word Count: 1882

Warnings: DARK FIC, mobs and their enforcers, mentions of general violence and graphic violence, mentions and descriptions of torture, descriptions of injuries, solving problems Tovar style, comfort food and tea

Summary: Pero Tovar only has a few people he chooses to interact with willingly. The bookstore owner is one of them. Someone made a very stupid mistake, Tovar will handle it and still have his tea.

Notes: This was written for @iamasaddie ‘s writing challenge 2.0. My color was Mob Enforcer and the prompt was “Hurt/Comfort” and “Who did this to you?” We're longer than a Drabble again, we dribbled quite a bit. Such is Nerdie.

I may have leaned too hard into the ‘hurt portion’ but we’ll see. 👀

Main Masterlist/ Pero Tovar Masterlist/ Writing Challenges

The only good thing about doing collections, was that most of the time, Pero wasn’t using violence. Just intimidation. The shopkeepers knew why he was here and knew the amount they needed to pay to The Family. It’s been the same amount for the past six months, in was raised temporarily for some needed repairs on the club the Valentino family owned. The actual story was that a few of the younger members had been ordered to torture a few members of a rival family and went overboard. The walls, floors and everything needed to be scrubbed. 

Tovar’s been with the Valentino family for fifteen years and as one of their premier enforcers for the last seven working his way up from errand boy. His height and broad frame discourage crossing him, and even if someone is dumb enough to do so, they find themselves bloodied, battered and with at least one thing broken. 

Today’s last stop for collections was planned and one that Pero normally did by himself. The bookstore owner also functions as the town’s librarian since the town doesn’t have one. It’s a smaller town and to get to a library you must drive two towns over. She normally offers him tea and some type of baked goodies. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’s grown to have a slight sweet tooth. Maybe. Really, he could care less about the sweets, he usually chats up the owner and barrows books. Considering he is collecting money from her, he felt he should pay but she always said no. He got the sense it wasn’t out of fear, she liked knowing his thoughts on different books. At first, he didn’t like the idea of discussing them. The enforcer wasn’t sure if he could really talk about different themes, symbols, characters and the like he often heard people talk about when discussing these books. 

La jefa (the boss) as he often greeted her didn’t judge him on his answers or lack of them. He’d talk the best he could about what he read, even if he didn’t understand it all. She listens and sips her tea, then asks him questions to draw more answers out of him. It fustrated him at first. But he grew to enjoy the bi-weekly sit downs with her. 

The chime of the bell goes off as he opens the door. The sun is at Pero’s back as he enters the bookstore. He comes early in the afternoon around two. She’s not at the counter, though the shop is listed as open. Calling out for her, she doesn’t answer, and he sucks his teeth. It isn’t like her at all. There’s no tea out either. There are no books that appear out of place and making his way behind the counter, nothing appears to be wrong with the register.

The enforcer goes into the back of the shop, he only knew where the bathroom was back here. He was looking for anything that resembled an office, as he walked down the hallway, there was a sniffle. As he kept going, they got louder. Taking a breath while he stood in front of a door that was slightly ajar, he tried to prepare himself. Maybe it was a bad day, maybe she got a papercut or was reading a sad book or something. Tovar instantly knew none of those were the case when he opened the door. 

Sitting behind the desk, her shoulders were slumped, and her hands were covering her face. He saw the scabs on the back of her hands, defensive marks. “Jefa dejame ver. (Boss, let me have a look).” Her sniffles stop for a moment as she shakes her head, turning her body away from him in the swivel chair. His eyes widen at the mark on her neck he spies it when she turns, it looks like it could be from a palm. Moving to her side, Pero places a hand on her shoulder, “I need to see cariño (sweetheart) or just give me a name. Who did this to you?” She finally drops her hands, but she turns her face away.

“I don’t want you to see. The envelope is on the desk Pero. Please.”  It is on the table, and he’ll put it in his jacket shortly - it is why he came here in the first place, but he can’t just leave like this. On top of her being one of a small number of people who he wants to be around, it could get around that the protection money the shops pay isn’t worth a damn because you could get beat in your own shop, and nothing will happen to whoever did it.

“Then tell me a name.” It’s sterner this time, but he’s released her shoulder and instead picked up her hand, his thumb tracing the scabs on her knuckles. She’d tried to fight back at least. She’s biting her lips when she finally looks at him, most of the discoloration is on the left side of her face though there’s a cut on her chin and one on her bottom lip. A large bruise is on her chest across her right clavicle, partly covered by her shirt. Pero’s able to keep his face motionless. “Por favor cariño (please sweetheart).” He doesn’t recognize the name she says, but he kisses her forehead and wraps an arm around her. “Gracias (thank you). I’ll be back princesa (princess).” 

Pero puts the envelope in his jacket pocket and heads out of the office. “Close the shop now and have the tea ready when I come back. Between eight and nine tonight.” He’s going to be quick about dropping the money off and he’s texted one of his associates with the name she gave. Within fifteen minutes, Pero has a picture to go with the name and a location. Marcello talks way too much, but he’s the best Tovar knows at tracking people.

Pero finds this man himself and tells Marcello to tell the higher ups that he needs to demonstrate a lesson in messaging with the family. He’ll need the basement and he’ll keep the clean up to a minimum. It’s not that there wouldn’t be blood. There might be too much blood so the powers at be approve the basement use but ask that Marcello and a second enforcer be there so that the man isn’t killed. There’s only murder when necessary and it wasn’t they viewed in this case. Pero sucked his teeth for the second time today but would make sure the man in question lives. Just not with all functioning limbs. 

After the submission of the money and subsequent torture was complete, the man’s body was bandaged by one of their doctors on the payroll and dropped off at his home, during a time they knew his family would be home with the message, “The Valentino family suffers no fools.” Pero carved it into his back to emphasize the point. He was still alive but would not be the same. Not after, as Tovar saw it, he’s violated one of his favorite places. 

La jefa has long closed her shop and made herself dinner. Now that she thought about it, she’s never made Pero any of her food, just cookies, brownies and the like. Since he said he was coming back, she would make extra. The worst that would happen would be that he would say he didn't want any.  It also dawned on her that she has not made a book recommendation today. She should pick one out before he comes, straightening out her mint green dress. Turning off the stove, she went downstairs to look for a book and saw Pero standing at the door ready to knock. It was a quarter after eight, he was glad he’d taken the extra time to shower. He didn’t want to be late, but he didn’t want to be dirty either. 

“Ah! Mi princesa del librios es bonita (My Princess of books is pretty). You have our tea ready tonight?” His question follows the chime of the bell above the door as she unlocks it and lets him in. She then locks it again and nods.

“I have tea and I made some extra for dinner. I didn’t pick out a book for you yet.” She seems a bit brighter than this afternoon but still trying to make sure she was facing him with her right side. Pero takes her left hand and tugs it a little, not hard, just enough so she faces him fully.

“Hermosa (gorgeous) you don’t have a bad side. Don’t worry about the book. I haven’t finished with the other one yet. I want my tea and I want to see what you made for dinner.” The corners of her mouth curve and finally she smiles, squeezing his hand and leading him up the stairs. Pero watches her walk up and into her living area. It’s cozy as it has books scattered about as well. 

“I don’t know if you like stew, but I made that and heated up some rolls. There’s butter too. I have water, apple juice, coke, and some rum.” The last option surprised him as he didn’t picture her drinking at all. Maybe she had a glass or two when she sat up here before bed. She poured herself a glass of water as Pero pointed to her glass and held up an empty bowel on the table. She filled both and they sat down across from each other. “I hope you enjoy Pero.”

“I don’t doubt that I will cariño.” The food went quickly as they ate, and she asked what other kind of foods he liked. Pero felt he might be getting greedy. Perhaps he’s been gluttonous of her attention each time he comes here. She gives it so willingly. 

Tonight’s tea is mint like her dress which makes Tovar chuckle as he takes up half of her loveseat sitting down. She takes up the other and they sip tea, speaking of past books they’ve read and things he may want to read. 

Even if he got an urgent call, he’ll ignore it because he’s having his tea. Pero Tovar doesn’t feel like an enforcer or a conduit for violence. He just has an arm around one of his favorite people as she places her head on his shoulder. The tough pads of his fingers touch the injured side of her face while he tells her that it’s been taken care of. He won’t tell her details. Tovar figures she can put it together. If he can just have moments like these where he’s just a man with someone he cares for, Pero can use that to sleep. He prays she can rest without crying or being scared. 

The loveseat has his feet hanging off outside of the blanket he found on the back of it. So far, he hasn’t heard her sniffle again. Pero carried her to bed after she fell asleep in his arms. The faint scent of mint mingling with the earthy smell of the books lulls him to sleep. He had blood on his hands again today, but it was fine. It was for her sake, and she hasn’t cried again.

It was worth it.

[fanfictiongirlie]

A Song of Sun and Snow - Chapter Three

Click here for Masterlist

Parings: Robb Stark x Baratheon Reader

Description: You and Robb Stark hated one another. Always had, always will. As the oldest daughter of Robert Baratheon, you had been engaged to Robb for as long as you could remember. He however had always thought of you as a southern bratty princess, and you had thought him as a arrogant jerk. You had reached your 18th name day a few months ago, and in a few weeks you'd be travelling to Winterfell to marry him.

Rating: Explicit (Eventually)

Words: 1,325

P.s: Just something I couldn't get out of my head. No use of Y/N. Only description of 'reader given: the fact that she doesn't look like Joff, Myrcella and Tommen (It's hinted she truly is Robert and Cersei's child) Not much though. Like one line. I wrote this in a different style to my usual style, using 2nd person. Hope it's okay. P.s there will be pregnancy in this, the 'reader' wants to have children. Also the ages are completely different in this fic then they are in the show/book.

You ran back into the castle, rushing to where you knew your family would be. The day room, your father and mother sat together, they didn't look like they were enjoying time together, but your younger siblings looked happy enough. You were red in the face and incredibly flustered. 

Everyone turned to you, they were surprised as your appearance since you had never looked anything but calm and controlled. 

"What happened?" Your father asked you, he slurred his words as he spoke. 

"I hate that man" You huffed pacing the floor "I do not want to marry that Stark boy!"

You family looked at you even more surprised, your mother seemed to be hiding her laughter, wretched woman... Your father looked angry, red in the face, granted he usually looked that way. 

"Why don't you wish to marry him?" Your father asked. 

"He is awful father, can't you find someone else for me to marry?" You begged. 

Your father studied your face, he looked red, angry, and mostly, fed up. This wasn't the first time you had begged to not be wed to Robb Stark, but it had been a long time since you last mentioned it. 

"He is the future Lord of Winterfell, daughter...It's an honourable arrangement between two houses, one I will not be breaking" You father spoke, his voice gruff. You knew there was no arguing, he'd never see it your way. 

"Yes father" You answer quietly. 

 Soon it was time for lunch, you joined your family and the Starks in the dining hall. The whole time you tried your best to not look at Robb. He had decided you looked gorgeous when you were pissed off at him. He spoke to you, trying to get your attention, his voice sounded friendly and innocent as he spoke. 

"You look lovely, princess"

"Thank you, Lord Stark" You answered, keeping to formalities in front of your family. He chuckled softly at your response. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes darting over your body again, he spoke in a low voice again, wanting nobody to hear him as he spoke to you. 

"You still look beautiful even when you're angry at me, princess"

"I'm always angry at you" You answer, causing him to chuckle quietly. 

"You know, I can be pleasant when I want to be. And seeing you like this, all angry, it almost makes me want to mess with you even more, princess"

You sigh unhappily, trying to concentrate on any other than him. You watched your younger siblings, all three of them, watched them eat happily at the table designated for the young ones. You'd miss them the most, even Joff, as horrid as he could be, was still your brother. You hoped little Tommen would remember you. 

"You can't ignore me forever, princess..."

"I can try" You whisper as he breaks you from your thoughts. He chuckled again, sounding low and throaty. His eyes kept roaming over your face, over your body. 

"You might try, princess, but you won't succeed..." He whispers. 

Finally once lunch was over you retreated back to your rooms, you'd be leaving in the morning for Winterfell, most of your belongings had been packed, along with a brand new wardrobe for the cold North. There was only the things left in your room to pack, small things you had collected over the years. 

Robb watched you as you left the room. He saw a golden opportunity and discreetly to follow you. He waited a few moments and travelled through the castle until he found your bedroom door. He knocked on the door. 

You didn't answer, wanting to be left alone, you'd assumed it was a random handmaid. They'd leave you alone soon enough. He knocked again, not hearing any response from inside, he spoke again, his voice firm and commanding. 

"Princess, open the door. I know you're in there" 

"You're not allowed in my rooms" You answer firmly. Robb couldn't help the smirk that came on his face. He moved closer to the door, still talking through the door, his voice was now lower. 

"And who's going to stop me if I decide to come in, princess?" 

"The king?" You answer smugly. 

"He won't be around to stop me, princess. Besides, I only want to come in to have a talk with you" 

"I'd prefer to be left alone" You answer. 

Robb almost growled in annoyance, no matter how pretty he found you, you still annoyed him. It felt normal to be annoyed at you, not these other feelings he had been feeling. But he tried to be nice, rather than tease you. 

"Princess, please...let me in.. I won't be long, I promise" 

"Lord Stark, leave me alone, I shall see you in the morning" You say sternly. He sighs in frustration. You were being so damn stubborn. 

"That's all the way tomorrow...I'd rather speak to you now princess. I promise, I'll be gone before you know it..."

You sigh deeply and open your door slightly. 

"I don't feel comfortable with you in my room, you can talk here" You say as you look up at him, his blue eyes sparkling even in the darkness of the hall. Robb smiled in victory. He tried to lean nonchalantly against the frame of the door. 

"I'm quite happy with that, as long as you're okay with me being right outside your room and anyone can walk by and hear our conversation" He said smugly. 

"What do you need?" You ask, rolling your eyes. He chuckled, he was just thinking about why he really sought you out. But he was distracted, by how gorgeous you looked when you were flustered and annoyed. How much he wanted to get his hands on your body again. He tried to stop himself thinking like that, but the thoughts still remained at the back of his mind. He spoke, trying to sound as calm and controlled as he could. 

"I just wanted to check on you, princess? We're starting our journey back to Winterfell tomorrow, and I wanted to see how you were feeling about it?" 

"Since when do you care about how I feel?" You answer, taken back by his question. You looked up into his eyes, seeing that he was sincere in his words. Robb felt a pang of hurt, he knew he had a habit of teasing you since he enjoyed rilling you up, but it hurt a little to think that you really thought he didn't care about you at all. 

"I care about how you feel, princess. I know you find it hard to believe that, but I do care. I just also like seeing you all annoyed and flustered" 

"You live to torment me" You quip up at him. 

"Can you blame me, princess?" He asks, that stupid smirk over his lips. "You're so cute when you're all worked up"

"If that's all, I'll be closing my door now" 

He had wanted to protest, to tell you to let him in, but he knew it would only cause more of an argument. As much as he wanted to come into your room with you, he had to resist the urge and just look at you instead. His eyes eyes roamed over your body, taking all of you in and imagining what you would look like on your wedding night. Beneath him. 

"Very well princess. Get some sleep, the ride to Winterfell will be rough and tiresome" 

You nodded and shut the door on him, retreating back to your room for the rest of the afternoon and evening until you went to sleep. Robb was left standing in the hallway, slightly annoyed that you had shut the door on him. He looked at the door, imagining you on the other side, and he wanted nothing more than to go through and join you in bed, hold you in his arms all damn night... 

"Gods, you're so infuriating"

Taglist:

@quinquinquincy @whatelsecouldgowrong

[strawberryya]

The art of seduction - part one

pairing: jeong yunho x reader

synopsis: Since she left you, it feels like your life has been turned upside down, and you're struggling to find your footing. He sees that, and he wants to help. Or maybe it's not as pure as that. Perhaps he's just looking for a new plaything — an artist to inspire, or someone to slowly destroy.

word count: 4.5k

genre/cw: angst, smut, suggestive, fantasy, thriller and/or romance, yandere themes, supernatural au, faery au, leanan sídhe!yunho, human!reader, they/them pronounces for reader, I tried my best to keep all descriptions gn as well - I welcome all feedback on this area ofc, grief and death depicted/mentioned, specific smut warnings will be listed in each part.

rating: 18+

a/n: this has been a big project for so many people this year, and I would like to thank all of the inspiring people in this collab for all the fantastic ideas that has been contributed to make all of these fics possible. it has been a journey writing this, but this fic is only the beginning of the even longer journey that yunho and our mc will be going on ;)

this is part one of my first fic for the wonderful collaboration thrill of the hunt, hosted by @cultofdionysusnet - check out the other exciting and thrilling stories on the official master list here!

the second part to this story will be found here once it's posted. if you wish to be tagged in the continuation you can dm me, send an ask, or comment on this post <3

network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main

“Oh, he’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met, y/n! He’s perfect… I didn’t think anyone could be so perfect until he came into my life. He makes me feel like I’ll never need anything ever again… like he and I are enough forever. I need you to meet him someday soon! I wanna introduce you to him, I promise you’ll love him too!”

You never got the chance to meet him. The more you think about it, the more you regret not making more of an effort to do so. Your best friend Anna had been in love with someone, and you hadn’t even had the chance to meet the man she spoke so fondly of. 

“I haven’t been feeling very good lately, y/n… I’ve been to the doctors and they say there’s nothing wrong. They said it’s all in my head, that I should go talk to someone… y/n, do you also think I’m making myself sick?” 

She only got weaker after that. 

And he had seemingly fallen off the face of the earth after she became bedridden. 

She said he came to visit, but she wasn’t in her right mind in those final weeks. Nobody had signed in at the reception. Nobody had seen a beautiful man with dark brown hair that gleamed blood-red when the sun shone. During all that time when she was admitted into the psychological ward at the city’s second-largest hospital you and Anna’s mom were the only visitors. 

They said she was mad…

You had wondered a lot about who he might’ve been during those times when she had talked about him as if she had just spoken to him, but nobody had seen anyone in her room. Had he been a fraction of her imagination the entire time? Or had her mind created a lie based on a man who had left her before her illness took over her mind and body? 

When she passed he was the one piece of the puzzle that you couldn’t let go of. If you had tried harder to meet him, would her illness have been caught earlier? Could it have been found and treated before it took her life…?

You’ve been staying late at the studio lately, trying to get through your feelings about losing her through your art. The shadows in the room seem to close in on you at every chance they get, and you don’t fight them. Hugged by the darkness is somehow better than being left so completely alone. 

The brush strokes soothe you like nothing else is able to. Fizzling seas crash along the shore, a looming tree stands barren and alone, and her face appears in the dark clouds. 

The only things you know to be true are that: she is gone, you are in pain, and you can only paint this one single picture. The lonesome tree at the cliff, watching the storms and waves trying to pull the ground away from beneath the large oak tree. You paint it over and over again, day after day, and you haven’t even paid any mind to when other artists have come and gone through the studio. People painted right next to you, people posed on the podium in front of you, and you didn’t care about any of it. All that matters to you is that you have been left all alone. 

Your best friend has died, and you can’t even do the one thing you have been able to do your entire life ー paint. You had pursued your passion fiercely, not budging even as your parents pleaded with you to be reasonable and try “having a career worth having”, and let painting stay as a hobby. It was how you had met Anna. She was a dancer, and she had gotten into the same art college as you. Back then you had both been carefree young adults, simply trying your best to survive on your own for the first time in your lives. Now, she has left you, with the bittersweet taste of the last conversations you had had with her on your tongue. 

“He inspires me you know, I’m just a dancer anymore when he looks at me, I become the air itself.” 

You had smiled and nodded at her nonsense, she seemed to be dreaming of it. Her limbs were too weak to be of use, but she had the same smile on her lips as when she performed. You had tried your best not to be mad at her for only speaking of this man even as she lay dying in a hospital, dreaming of her passion was at least better than dreaming of him. The tears had stung your eyes as you held her hand before leaving her to her rambling. 

It has been a while since her funeral, and you have practically been living at the studio. Home doesn’t make you feel any better, so you sleep on the small pullout couch in the corner instead. It isn’t meant to be slept on and your back is sore from the many nights in a row you have spent on it. But the art studio is at least comforting you more than home. You have too many memories of Anna in your apartment. Here you can focus on your art. At least, that’s the idea. You have had no inspiration since her death. It’s strange, she hadn’t exactly been the reason you painted, but everything that happened still affected even that part of you. 

You had begun questioning if you should give it all up, move home to your parents for a few months, and go back to your waitress job until you had processed all of this. But could you give up on your passion? After years of struggling to pass courses and hustling on the side of your studies just to make it all work? What would Anna say if she knew…?

You aren’t sure how it happened, it might've been a dream. It’s barely been three weeks since Anna’s funeral and you woke up with the clearest picture of a man you had never met in your mind. 

He’s handsome, just like she had told you. He has gentle features, and dark, captivating eyes that catch hold of your mind and refuse to let go. You can’t seem to escape the image of the stranger you know in your bones is the same man Anna had known. 

Sometime after the day you had first seen him in your mind, after hours in front of your easel and a blank canvas, you finally force yourself to pick up the brush. This couldn’t be the end of pursuing the only career you had ever wanted. You need to get over it and paint something, other than that stubborn tree and the punishing sea. His features burn your eyelids, and you see him as you blink and dream of him as you sleep. You can’t escape the visions, so you make him real, tangible. You create a portrait of the man in your head. Watching the finished portrait once you put down the brush. 

You look at it until it gets dark again, staring into his eyes until you fall asleep on the couch in the corner. 

You wake up with a headache. You groan quietly since you neither have the energy nor the will to get up and take something for the throbbing pain stemming from the sides of your head. Before you could even summon the will to get up despite this, you almost jumped off the couch in surprise. There is another person in the room. You’re still in the corner of the room, so the stranger might’ve missed that you were even there, you reason. It looks like a man from behind. His short dark hair lay in a rather messy way against the back of his head. He’s turned away from you, watching the painting you had fallen asleep staring at. He’s tall, his shoulders are broad. You panic, because what did this man want, and why was he here in the middle of the night?

“Who are you?” you ask breathlessly, jumping up from the couch, trying to see if he’s someone you know in the dim light. Could he be another artist here to paint at an odd hour? You don’t recognize him, but you aren’t the best at remembering people, so you’re not sure if you should be screaming or apologizing for your hostile greeting. 

The man didn’t even flinch at the sound of your voice. He didn’t seem like a threat, but then again, something about him creeped you out. You ignore the fact that he also intrigued you, and try to catch his attention again. “Hey, I asked you a question.” In response, he simply raises a hand as if to shush you. 

This man hadn’t just broken into the studio late at night – he was also incredibly rude. The air around him is so still, so calm that it’s giving you chills. You want to see his face. If he was going to murder you, you want to have looked the fucker in the eye so you can, at least, curse his existence. You take a step forward, grabbing a long paintbrush from the drying rack. Maybe you can get his eye if you’re fast enough.

“So aggressive, little dove,” the man finally says. His voice is smooth and deep. It’s an attractive voice, at least your murderer has a nice voice, not that that makes this situation salvageable. You’re still prepared to stab him with the wooden brush in your hand. 

“Wouldn’t you be aggressive if you woke up to a stranger in your bedroom as well?” 

You had tried putting on a brave face, hoping that he wouldn’t notice how scared you were. He seemed to see through this facade easily though, chuckling at your attempt instead of turning around to face you. “Not your bedroom. I’ve been to your bedroom and this isn’t it. Also, not really a stranger, am I?” 

Your breath won’t calm down, and your heart is beating mercilessly in your chest. This man had been in your apartment? And you know him? What the hell is he talking about? “Are you some kind of stalker you fucking creep?” you wheeze out, taking a step away from him. 

You desperately wish for this to be some kind of nightmare. 

When he turns around you’re sure it is because there’s no way the man you see in front of you isn’t just a fiction of your imagination. Dark hair, streaks of red when the light from the window hits it. Perfect lips, and captivating eyes. It’s him. The man in your painting, alive right in front of you. Your grip on the brush tightens, the bristles folding backward from the pressure of your palm. The world began to spin, he wasn’t real, he couldn’t be real. You see the edges of your vision blur and his smile widens at the visible panic you were displaying. 

He was right, he isn’t a stranger. 

“I think you might’ve heard about me, little dove. She used to talk about you ー the talented artist she had met in college.”

It couldn’t be, you hear the blood rushing in your ears like thunder. “Who?” 

He smiled innocently, “Don’t you remember your friend? Anna, I think her name was.” 

No. It couldn’t be true. The brush fell from your hand as you fell to the ground. Your already sleep-deprived mind couldn’t handle the thought that maybe the man Anna had spoken about was real, and right in front of you. Knocking yourself unconscious was the only thing your body could do to stop your heart from giving out. 

Have you gone mad as well? Maybe this was your way of grieving? Should you go to the hospital?

The questions spun in your mind. He was gone when you woke up. But the long brush in your hand and the bruises on your knees and shoulder felt like substantial proof that you had not lost your mind. He had been here, you know it, but who would believe you if you told them? Who would even care?

You decide to let it go, instead, you force yourself to go back to your apartment. A change of clothes was needed and you know that the lady down the hallway will be worried after not having seen you for days yet again. She had been at Anna’s funeral, wondering how and why your roommate had passed so quickly at such a young age. You hadn’t known what to answer. You still didn’t have your own answers as to “how” or “why”. At least, none that you could share…

You had managed to shower and get into some clothes when your neighbor knocked on the door. 

“Hi, Auntie,” you greet her as she had insisted you do ever since you and Anna had first moved in. She’s older than any of your real aunts, but remarking on that had felt incredibly inappropriate, so you had both simply accepted your fate and begun calling her “Auntie”. 

"Darling!" How are you? I haven't seen you here in days! I was beginning to worry. You know, this was just how it was with Anna, I didn’t see her for days and then she would show up saying she had been busy practicing and dating and whatnot!”

You don’t respond, forcing a smile. She meant well, but when she insisted on bringing you some food you wanted to refuse her. She didn’t mind your protests, “Oh, dear child, you don’t even know how sunken your face looks. You need some of my home-cooked food to get your spirits back up!” 

In the end, your refrigerator was filled with casseroles and little boxes of different dishes, and a bitter feeling, knowing you wouldn’t be here to eat it. You left your apartment as swiftly as you had arrived, not wanting to stick around long enough to see the traces of a life lived – a life you didn’t feel belonged to you anymore. You brought what you could carry in your bag back to the studio. 

You fall asleep again, after hours of trying to create something, only creating more pain in your back from sitting on the wooden stool all afternoon instead. It’s not like you hadn’t tried your best to think about anything else besides him, you had actually tried your very best! But in the end, your mind kept wandering back to the dip of his lips, and the grin on his face as you fainted. You painted the outline of his lips, over and over again. 

You hated him. 

Would he come back?

He had mocked you with his words.

Why had you felt such a rush when he spoke?

You never wanted to see his perfect face ever again.

Why couldn’t you stop wishing to see him just one more time? 

You woke from a cool hand on your hair. Slowly and gently he patted your head until you opened your eyes. It was still dark out, and he was back. Leaning over your sleeping body, a large hand caressing the side of your head. You scream, and he smirks. He shushes you, and you push him away angrily. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” you shout. 

“You wanted to see me again, I thought it best to wake you so your wishes could be fulfilled.” His voice coursed through you, giving you goosebumps again. “Don’t be angry with me, little dove.”

“I don’t want you here.”

“Don’t lie. It’s not polite,” he retorts as soon as the words leave your mouth. 

“I don’t care, I hate you. Leave me alone!” You bark out the words, tears stinging your eyes. You don’t know why you’re reacting so strongly to him. 

His tongue darts out to lick at his lips in annoyance. “Little dove,” he chirps menacingly, “Lie one more time and I won’t help you anymore.”

He terrifies you. He’s beautiful, but nothing about him feels true. He’s like those beautiful flowers forever trapped inside glass orbs. You wanted to protect the frozen beauty from getting the slightest scratch and smash it to pieces, all at once. 

“Help me…?”

The gentle smile on his lips came back when you revealed that he had managed to pique your interest. “Mm, I help people. Artists, especially… it’s an interest of mine, the arts.” He winked at you, which caught you off guard. 

“And you came here to help me?” 

He nodded, but you weren’t convinced. 

“Why? I didn’t ask for any help from you.”

He looked around the room, gaze wandering over the canvasses you had painted in the last couple of weeks, all depicting the shore and the dead tree. All except two. The portrait of him, and the sketches of his lips. 

“You did that?” You ask incredulously. His gaze snaps back to you sharply. 

“Of course. Didn’t it feel different? It felt like you had been inspired by something again, did it not?” His voice is honey in your ears, but the sticky feeling is making you want to flee for your life. You don’t. 

“Want me to prove it?”

You frown, “What do you mean prove it? Are you going to inspire me to paint something on the spot in the middle of the night?”

“Tell me you want it and I’ll make sure you feel inspired for the rest of your miserable human life, little dove.” 

His wording is so unnatural, you think for just a moment. You don’t trust him one bit, but perhaps this is the way to convince yourself that he is indeed just some creep that you need to get away from. You take a deep breath before answering, “I’ll agree if you tell me your name.”

The man stepped back, you had made him flinch. You don’t know why you made that exact demand. Maybe you had just really wanted to call him something other than “the one Anna spoke of” in your mind. It hurt each time you remembered her name.

“A name can be more powerful than you think, little dove,” his tone warned you of something. He seems on edge for the first time since you met him. 

You don’t budge, his reaction only makes you more sure that you need to follow your gut. “Tell me, and you can help me.”

He hesitated before seemingly giving in to some innate need that you didn’t understand yet. “Yunho. That’s one of my names… Use it with care, little dove.”

You turned his name around in your mind, tasting the sweet taste on your tongue as you said it out loud. “Yunho… Sure, help me find inspiration to paint again.”

The same excited and menacing grin he had worn the last time you spoke now grace his lips again, and you feel you have committed a horrible mistake. 

You look around the room, the sun is rising and casting long shadows from the easels placed around the podium. How has the entire night already passed you by? You have no memory of sleeping. You look at your hands, they are covered in paint. Why had you been so messy? You couldn’t remember right away. You know that you have painted. Yunho had kissed your hand, you can still remember the heat of his breath on your skin. Then you had picked up your brush. You hadn’t been frightened by the fact that you weren’t in control of your actions. After the weeks of forcing yourself to do the most basic human functions to stay alive, having something else move your hand in your stead was somehow freeing. 

When you look at the canvas your breath stops. It’s him, you have painted him again. He’s not completely like himself, however, he is just as captivating in the picture as he is in reality. You had managed to capture his beautiful features, from the way his cupid’s bow dips graciously on his lips, to the way his hair gleams blood red when light shines through it. But behind him is something new, something you have never seen belonging to a human before. Wings, almost translucent wings, appearing on the canvas as a shimmer of light blue and white, adorned with shimmering ruby gemstones. He looked magnificent. 

“Pretty,” you hear his voice whisper on your neck before you feel his soft lips press against your skin. You shiver, it feels good but you’re still in shock, watching the man who’s behind you on the canvas in front of you. 

“How is this possible?” you mumble.

“You were inspired,” he responds calmly, brushing your hair away from your face from behind. “Did you enjoy it?”

You have a feeling that the answer to that is yes, but you also know you shouldn’t reveal that. “I don’t remember.”

“I think you did… I know you did.” 

The way he seems to know everything, even the things you don’t, scares you a bit. But you might be addicted to the feeling of his touch, you’re addicted to what he can do to you, addicted to what he makes you feel deep inside. He has given you your passion back, he has helped you paint again, and you had enjoyed it this time. This shouldn’t be possible. Why does this man have so much power over you that he could help you paint as you had used to, for the first time since Anna’s passing? 

There’s no way he’s human, no human looked like he did. In the morning light, he was even more dashing, even more unreal. You want to smash his perfect exterior to pieces and see the flower inside rot as the air hits its delicate petals. 

“Go away. I don’t want this,” you choke out, pushing down the sobs that threaten to escape your throat. He kisses your neck again, but you don’t move. “I think I’ll die if I don’t end this Yunho. Please, just leave me alone.”

“It’s possible, but maybe you’ll be the one who makes it out alive.” His honey voice rang in your ears as the day began and his touch against your back disappeared. You cried yourself to sleep. You knew everything was wrong, Yunho was wrong. But there was nothing you could do about it anymore. 

Two days passed without so much as a glimpse of Yunho. The hours of the night when he didn’t come to see you had almost been enough to convince you that you had truly gone mad. But then, suddenly, there he was, as dashing as ever. Pretty eyes watching you stare at an empty easel. 

A chilling chuckle escaped him, nothing more. He stands and gazes upon your hopeless state for a while in silence. You will never get rid of him, you realize. You’re not upset about it. You can’t be upset. Nothing feels real anymore. 

Yunho circles you, a predator watching his prey. You don’t flinch under his gaze this time. When he leans his lean body against the stool next to yours you feel disgusted. You weren’t upset that he would never leave you alone, but you deserved to know why, at least. 

“What do you want from me?”

“Want?” He sounds almost offended. 

“You’re not here just because it’s fun to sit around and watch me paint all day.”

He didn’t give you an answer, he just smiled at you with that perfectly enchanting smile of his. He’s dangerous, his beauty is dangerous. He leans forward on the stool, his face now scarily close to yours. Will he kiss you…? You can feel Yunho’s breath, hot against your lips, his gaze burning as he stares into your eyes and flickers down to your mouth. Do you want him to kiss you…? 

What do you want from him?

You almost forget that he hasn’t given you an answer when he bends forward, his lips inches away from yours. This time you do flinch. Can he read your mind too? No, your eyes stare right back into his, a flash of maroon tints his irises an unnatural color before it disappears just as fast as it showed up. 

His thumb drags across the side of your cheek, a small smirk plays on Yunho’s deceptive lips. “I’ll make you a promise,” he whispers, “I promise to make sure you’re motivated to do what you love the most, for the rest of your life.”

His breath burns hot against your wet lips. You want to kiss him. “A promise…?” you exhale, mind not quite able to focus on his words, but they sound good to you right now. You swallow, eyes flickering to his perfectly shaped cupid bow, his rosy lips, and the tongue that teases behind his plump lips. “What… what would I have to do…?” 

“A clever dove, I knew you would ask the right questions.”

You didn’t truly understand though, too distracted by Yunho’s eyes mirroring your flickering gaze, teasingly watching the way your hands fiddled with the brush in your hand. 

“All you have to do in return is say that you agree, and I will fulfill all of your wishes.” His soothing hand moves around to the nape of your neck, his grip gentle but secure. 

Will he fulfill them all? 

Does it even matter? Almost anything would be good enough to accept right now, at least you can’t think of something that would be worse than walking through life as the zombie you had been since… Since Anna’s death. If you accept his proposal, will you find out what happened to her? 

“I agree.” 

Your stomach flips when plush lips are pressed against yours. It seems he had already begun living up to his word. At least he wasn’t playing a trick on you when it came to that part. His hands travel over your body, he knows exactly how to touch you the way you like it. Has he been watching you for a long time? Or is it something magical, like those shimmery wings you had imagined he had? You’re not sure, but knowing could wait until later. Right now you have a couple of needs. Needs that Yunho had promised to fulfill. His leg firmly presses open your legs, strong muscle relieving some of the intense pressure that had built up in your lower abdomen since the thought of having him in this way had sprouted in your mind. You need more. You close your eyes even tighter as you let the brush fall from your grip. Hands moving across Yunho’s perfect form without hesitation. 

The sound of the brush hitting the floor didn’t reach your ears. You were already lost to the world of humans. 

“Do you believe in fairies? I do. I think there are things we don’t know in this world. Magical things. If I could go there I would, I think it’s a beautiful place, nothing like Earth. I’d want to dance for them…”

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

[legobiwan]

It's 2024 and I've decided to make a Gravity Falls fic rec list. Because I do what I want, even if I'm showing up to the fandom a decade or so late. All fics are Gen unless otherwise noted, warnings can be found at the end of each description.

Birthday Dinner by Fordtato

A post-series short story featuring our two favorite old men out at sea, this work is wildly in-character in terms of their bickering and sometimes-competitive-to-the-point-of-self-sabatoge sibling relationship, but in the best and most hilarious of ways. Warnings for lighthearted discussion of cannibalism.

i know exactly where my blood is by strawberrybiscuit

There are a number of works that delve into Stan's possible suicidal ideation tendencies, both in his drifter years and post-Portal Incident. I find this to be a wholly conceivable notion, given both the absolute shit hand he was dealt in life and the hints we are given throughout the series that his self-esteem was pretty much in the gutter. Of the stories that explore this theme, I find this one to be one of the most grounded - Stan's borderline dissociation/gallows humor is very in-character, as is Ford's genuine horror when he learns the truth of the situation, which is rightfully emotional without delving into melodrama or transforming into a Saturday afternoon special. Warnings for intense talk of self-harm and suicide.

By Any Other Name by Zeragii 

I, like many of us, am fascinated by the tantalizing tidbits we've been fed as to Stan's decade or so existence as a drifter. We know he's failed at somewhat more legitimate attempts at entrepreneurship (the dodginess of the actual products notwithstanding), we know he was living out of his car for a large majority of those years, we know he's been to prison three times in various countries, and we know something happened in Colombia. All this is to say, Stan's probably made a lot of enemies, and that his map of "States I'm Banned In" is more likely a summary of places in which he has outstanding warrants and/or a price on his head.

What happens when that past catches up to you?

While this isn't an uncommon theme in Gravity Falls fics, what I love about this story is the complexity of the interactions between Stan and Ford here, given this is a post-series fic. Yes, they've mended their relationship, but old patterns die hard. Neither twin ends up as the "damsel in distress" (a worrying recurrence in many GF fics), despite the fact they are thrown into multiple dangerous situations and the OCs/Pines family extension are well-crafted and three-dimensional.

The People That We Always Hoped We Would Be by SharoScylla

A Christmas Carol, but make it Gravity Falls. The section of this story that really sold me was Stan's climatic scene in a bedbug-ridden, hovel of a motel room in New Mexico. Guest appearance made by the infamous Jimmy Snakes, who I learned recently was going to be a real character (and essentially this universe's answer to Ghost Rider) until that whole bit about Stan's past biker life was cut (regrettable). Embracing both the humor and darkness present in the original show, this story sees a Research Era!Ford come face-to-face with his own proverbial demons (real demons not included) as he is visited by a familiar cast of future past. Warnings for suicide attempt.

O Brother by Obsessive_Reader

In progress. A timestuck AU with the Mystery Twins 1.0 being catapulted into the 1980s, a young Ford landing with an increasingly desperate adult Stanley as young Stan tries to navigate the thorny, icy adult his brother Stanford has become. Probably one of the most realistic timestuck AUs out there, as fences are not mended immediately between the adult twins nor with their children counterparts. Also, Fiddleford finally has a chance to shine!

Orpheus Descending by Sir_Thopas

Unfinished. Which is a damn, damn shame, as this is probably one of my favorite Gravity Falls fics of all time. Read it anyway. Yes, you'll swear vociferously at where it leaves off. ResearchEra!Ford goes to incredible lengths to bring his brother back from the dead as Stan's demise is not exactly what it seems. What exactly happens with Stan is incredibly realistic, given his circumstances, and the local color written in by this Georgian native just adds to the Gothic feel of the whole tale. To what lengths would you go to bring your family back? At what point do you cross the point of no return in order to survive? Warnings for graphic description of a decayed corpse and prostitution scene.

Journal #4 by Percival_T_Honeybee

To be honest, this story stops being a Gravity Falls fic a couple of chapters in, instead featuring characters we know and love in increasingly out-of-universe (in all ways imaginable) situations. This doesn't matter, though, as the world- and character-building of this swashbuckling, sci-fi epic are superb and will have you on the edge of your seat until the final chapter. When both Stan and Ford go through the portal, their futures become something they never could have imagined.

Turning by BrandyFromTheBottle

I've mulled over this conceit on more than occasion and truly think it's something that begs further exploration. What if Stanley Pines pulled a Saul Goodman and, after the world was saved, turned himself in, willingly going to trial, and eventually, prison as self-inflicted recompense for his past deeds?

And now for something different...

Entanglement by Haley3

Ford/Bill (to be clear, Triangle Bill. Accept no substitutions). I realize Billford is not everyone's cup of tea and I rarely, rarely post shipping stuff, but in full transparency, I find their relationship fascinating and the idea of their having interactions that may have seeped over the boundary of purely (well, not pure. Ford built a damned shrine and became a one-man cult while Bill was manipulating him the entire time) platonic is not out of the question. In other words, I'm not wholly immune to Billford, but I am rather picky about how they are portrayed.

This fic checks all my boxes. Bill remains a triangle throughout. Bill is unredeemable. Ford and Bill have a relationship whose complexity would rival the equations of the dimensional physics they debate. And, of course, Ford is lying to himself and those around him, deeply, deeply in denial as to the nature and profundity of his emotions towards his tormentor. Warnings for explicit sexual scenes, manipulation, emotional abuse. I mean, it's Bill, we all know what that means.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

It started out with a kiss, how did it ended like this?

Pairing/Au: Young!Joel Miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Rating: +18, NSFW

Summary: You meet Joel at a party, everything is fine, he's beautiful... will it end well?

Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, the story is set in 2004 but there is no Sarah so Joel is a 24 year old guy (calculated on Game!Joel's age) who went to university and has no child, smut, angst, a lot of kissing, meet cute?, sex in public places, risk of being caught, reader has breasts and vagina, she wears shorts, a tank top, heels and a dress, no other description is given of her except that she smokes (it happens only once in the ff though), fingering (f receiving), dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (wrap it up irl!), reader is on the pill, cream pie, alcohol consumption, smoking, infidelity, plot twist, dubcon (I’m putting that here because reader is drunk but not so drunk, she gives explicit consent but you know, just to be sure.), brief Tommy appearance (is that a warning? LOL poor Tommy, love him), pussy pronouns, pet names (mostly baby) a lot of swearing, very small age gap but I'm pointing it out anyway, reader is 21 and Joel is 24, some insert of reader’s thoughts, no happy ending (sorry 💀). This story is inspired by something that happened to me personally so please please be particularly gentle with it (you always are tbh, thanks a lot❤️).

The places are places that really exist, they are in Italy but I still tried to leave them neutral so that you can imagine the setting in several places in the world where there is the sea, at least I hope. Where I live it is legal for beach resorts to organize beach parties at certain times established by law, as for music, the songs mentioned are songs that I personally love, I think that more or less everyone knows them, right? Hashtag Millennials music lol

English is not my first language, no beta or proofreading, apologies for any mistake! 🙇🏻‍♀️

Header and dividers by me, sorry if they look like sh*t, I tried my best 🥲

“Are you a dream or are you real?”

You roll your eyes, while this guy who has approached you and has been dancing next to you for 15 minutes has grabbed you by the waist and whispered these words to you.

Are men really convinced they can seduce with this bullshit?

You turn around thinking you’ll find the usual maniac face who reaches out with shameless hands.

You’re absolutely ready to tell him to go to hell.

Oh.

He’s a tall guy, probably slightly older than you, messy black curls, scruffy beard and mustache and big, gorgeous brown eyes.

Not bad at all.

But it doesn’t mean you can go by your mother’s favorite way of thinking “he’s handsome so he can’t be evil”, it’s fucking stupid and you know it. She used to allow you to ride in your male friend’s car only because he was so hot and wealthy and his family was well known and respected.

If only she had known… but anyway, he belongs to the past, to a group of toxic people you don't hang out with anymore.

Your eyebrow raises and your mouth tug into the most ironic smile you could possibly pull out.

“I’m not Rihanna, you know? So cut off your bullshit”

He’s surprised and he stands there for a second with his mouth open looking dumb.

And then he’s at it again “You’re gorgeous” he whispers in your ear while the music is pumping hard from the disco speakers you are in and he still holds your waist, pushing you towards him “you are the most beautiful girl in this place”

“Yeah, sure” you reply, with a mixture of irritation and pity. He is visibly a little drunk, he moves awkwardly near you trying to appear sensual when in reality he’s as graceful as a brown bear.

You laugh, shaking your head, at least he’s funny.

You lean in close to his ear to make him hear you better “please leave me, I’m with my friends”

Friends who are giggling behind his back giving you the thumbs up.

You look into his alcohol-blurred pleading eyes and damn, this guy definitely knows how to get something. You feel sorry for him, and he’s cute. If he wasn’t so cute you would already left, no point in beating around the bush. You decide to give him a chance, after all it will be a one night stand at most and you’re single, there’s nothing wrong with it.

He has very large hands that wrap around your hips in just the right way and you love hands, it’s one of the first things you notice in a guy. You’re a sucker for a nice beard too and his beard is just the right length to make you want to feel it rub against your skin.

His lips look great too, plumped and perfectly designed, and his nose… big nose. Oh, yes, another box to tick. Big noses are the best.

You put your hands around his neck, you’re reaching him because you’re wearing the highest heels you’ve ever had. His body feels nice against yours, giving you shiver of pleasure down your back.

He towers over you even like this.

Your hips rub together as you dance and his hands end up on your ass. He grabs your cheeks through your skimpy shorts and give them a nice squeeze.

Wow. Audacious. You like this. It looks like this guy knows what he’s doing, horrible opening line aside.

He asks in your ear if you want something to drink and you accept, he takes your hand and escorts you through the crowd to the bar. You appreciate how he made his way through making sure not to lose you.

He leans over the counter to get the bartender's attention and you take the opportunity to take a peek at his butt. Really nice.

You are at a beach resort’s party that you always go to, it was supposed to be held on the beach but the weather didn't allow it so they moved it to this club a few km away.

You know the dj and the bartenders by name but let him make his moves and order drinks, while you nod at your favorite bartender girl and she gives you a wink and her lip reading says "nice catch”.

He looks all proud while he gives you your glass, his big brown eyes are crinkled at the edges along with his lips curved into a grin. He’s so damn cute when he smiles, you tell to yourself.

He takes a sip and he asks you your name and obviously compliments it. “I’m Joel” he tells you in your ear and he reach out to shake your hand.

You smile back profusely and your eyes glare at his biceps hugged perfectly his white t-shirt.

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket and you let it out, your friends are still in the middle of the dance floor but you get a text on your phone saying “He’s really handsome, go girl! If you need anything call us, ok? Have fun!”

You roll your eyes grinning, everybody apparently approves.

Within minutes you discover that he’s 24, he studies architecture, plays the guitar and he has a little garage band with his friends and then you shout “Oh my god, I love this song!” You grab his arm and drag him back to the center of the dance floor. Joel doesn’t wait to be asked twice. He bounces next to you to the beat of Mr. Brightside as you both sing along at the top of your lungs. Halfway through the second verse when the song says “it was only a kiss” Joel grabs you in his arms and pushes you toward a pillar that lines the dance floor, surprising you. He slams into you and kisses you, deeply, hungrily, knocking out what little air you have left after dancing.

His tongue enters your mouth forcefully, licking greedily. A little rough and his beard and mustache are lightly scratching your skin but you don’t mind. In fact, the rush of adrenaline as he pushed you made your heart speed at an insane race and the way he slammed you against the wall made you instantly wet. You feel your panties sticking as you kiss him back just as frantically. The best kiss you’ve ever had, you have to be honest, he’s really good.

You’re panting in his mouth, moaning as he insistently rub his hips on yours, you can feel his erection pushing against you.

Fuck, who would have expected it from the clumsy boy who tried to hook you up so awkwardly before?

You can taste the rum and cola he ordered on his tongue and a faint hint of cigarette mixed with the smell of clean laundry and something else, animalistic and sexy, probably his slightly sweaty skin.

His hands are roaming at your body, on your neck, over your shoulders, on your back as you arch into him searching for more friction, and then on your ass again giving another really nice squeeze.

It’s not the first time you’ve kissed someone on the dance floor and it probably won’t be the last but no one has ever made you this feral unless you were completely drunk. You can’t blame the alcohol tonight because you only had one drink, it’s him. He makes you dizzy.

“Wanna talk a little bit outside?” you ask him panting when he pulls away from you to catch his breath.

“Yeah, talk” he says mischievously “of course, let’s go talk”

You laugh, releasing yourself from his grip and tugging at his shirt as you move towards the exit.

He follows you immediately, putting his hand on your back as you walk out. Several people are smoking near the entrance, you pass by a couple of girls who are looking Joel up and down.

You turn the corner and find a fairly isolated spot. You can still hear the music, even if it’s muffled.

You're in the back of the place, he sits on a large wooden crate which likely contained alcohol or equipment and pulls you towards him, between his legs. You take his lips back into yours, lightly nibbling his lower lip and filling your hands with his broad back, caressing it, moving up to his neck.

There is nothing you want more than to feel his tongue dance with yours again, you push gently and he lets you in. You start kissing him greedily, just as much as he did before. His giggle vibrates on your lips “hey, weren’t we supposed to talk?” You laugh looking into his chocolate eyes “oh of course, let me explain better” and you kiss him again, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours.

He’s so damn good.

It's not very often that you instantly feel this good around a guy, much less feel as confident as you do now, but the adoring way he looks at you and his big strong arms wrapped around your body are comforting, they make you feel at ease.

The September air is cool and the place is surrounded by pine trees, you would almost be cold if it weren’t for Joel.

His hand moves to the front of your shorts, sliding it over the zipper and pressing into your crotch. You let out a moan.

“Can I?”

“Yes” you breathe, nodding.

You’re craving this.

He undoes the button and slides a hand inside, making room for himself past your underwear, sliding a finger between your folds.

“Soaked wet, huh?” he murmurs “fucking amazing”

His index and middle fingers move over your clit, rubbing and applying pressure as you bury your face in his neck, sinking your teeth into his flesh, gently, and then licking the part as you feel him twitch beneath you.

You whimper “Fuck, please don’t stop”

“I won’t baby, I’m going to make your little pussy screaming for me” He slides his two fingers into your opening while his thumb continues to work rapidly on your bundle of nerves.

He begins to pump into you, relentless and precise, curling into you, hitting your special spot, his fingers are thick and long and dig into you like they always have.

“You’re squeezing my fingers so good, keep going babe, keep going for me”

You’re bucking your hips into his palm, riding on the edge of your pleasure, trying desperately to not completely lose it because you would want that to last longer but you can’t, you’re literally gushing over his hand after a couple of minutes, he’s too good at it.

He lets you work off your orgasm as he holds you close and softly kisses the skin just below your ear.

“God, Joel…” you whisper.

“It’s okay baby, just let it washes over you… and by the way if we weren't out here right now I would have made you come on my tongue”

“Mmmm i would love to try sometimes” you smile softly at him, eyes still faded by your orgasm. And the thing is, you want more. You’re on his neck again, sucking and licking and you whisper on his skin. Things are heating up so much you feel like you have to tell him so you look into his eyes and just spit that out of your mouth “I’m not doing sex with strangers that I just met, I’m sorry”

For a moment, just a moment, losing yourself into his gaze, you think about reconsider your position.

“I swear to God, this damn dude” you think.

You feel your integrity wavering, just a little.

“Well, it’s not a problem, we can do other things” he says.

You raise an eyebrow, looking at him with a smirk “What would you have in mind, let's hear”

He kisses you again, licking into your mouth, holding you close to his body as he moves his hips against yours, he unzips his pants and awkwardly pulls them down with one hand, pulling his cock out of his boxers.

He takes your hand and puts it on top of it “could you uhm… touch it a little, maybe… if you like”

You feel your edges getting smoothed out, he just made you cry out of pleasure with his fingers and the least you can do is do something for him.

“Why not” you answer lasciviously “it can be done”

It’s big, much bigger than you expected, and it's rock hard. You wrap your hand around it and can barely hold it all. This guy also has one of the most beautiful cocks you've ever seen, it’s unbelievable. You run your thumb over the tip, spreading the precum that's already dripping down his length, and begin to stroke him.

You go up and down its shaft, stopping at the tip, lingering over it and you feel him twitching underneath your touch. “Yeah, baby, you’re so good at it” his voice is low and hoarse, his eyes darker than before, almost all pupils as you continue to work on his big fat cock.

Someone told you before that you’re pretty good at it and Joel seems to agree “Fuck, your hand feels amazing” you smirk feeling proud.

“I have an idea…” Joel whispers, “you could… uh fuck… maybe… use it” he stammers, and you look at him confused not understanding what he means “we already talked about this Joel and I have to admit you have a really magnificent cock but I'm not going to put it in”

“No of course…but you can uhm…wait I'll show you” he opens your shorts again and you get nervous

“What?” what is this guy going to do?

He pulls them down just enough to leave you in your underwear but holding them up for you so they don’t end up on the ground.

He gently takes your hand off his cock and takes it himself, holds it straight and brings you closer “you can keep your panties on, I swear nothing will happen that you don't want” and starts rubbing it on you, on your crack covered by the fabric of your underwear.

You whine “oh fuck” you’re seeing the point of it now and it’s unbelievably hot.

“Use it, babe. Use it to play with yourself” You don't wait long to take the lead, you pick it up again and rub it all over yourself to your heart's content, using its length all over you. Like a big dildo, but better, you can feel every vein throbbing, its heat and wetness through the thin fabric.

It’s almost overwhelming, using his hard shaft to get you off, you squirm as you insist on you clit, letting out moans that sound outrageously pornografic. And he’s getting on the edge too, you can feel it under your fingers and in his deep rasping whimpers that rise from the bottom of his throat.

How did you not think of that? It feels like the most satisfying dry humping you’ve ever done, and you’re a master at it. Your pillow and stuffy animals at home can confirm.

Reaching your peak you clench your jaw and try to stifle the sound of your orgasm, but a long slow moan still makes its way out of you.

“I’m almost there,” Joel whispers to you, his face flushed, his eyes glazed over, you sink a hand into his curls and pull away from him to make him come between your fingers.

His whole body is tense, his mouth agape, he squints his eyes, sticky white streams smear your palm and he comes, throwing his head back.

“Fuck, this was…God” he takes you back in his arms, still shaking as his pleasure run through his entire body.

As soon as he regain the ability to speak you hear his tempting voice whispering in your ear “you liked that, huh?”

“I…more than like it, I loved it” and his laugh vibrates on your neck.

One of your hands is wrapped around his neck while the other is suspended in the air with the mess he just made dripping between your fingers.

You shake it a little and lick the rest, slowly sliding your fingers into your mouth one at a time, running your tongue carefully over each one. He looks at you, mesmerized, “Oh shit, if you keep going like this I’m going to get hard again.”

You giggle and shrug “What am I supposed to do? Wet wipes are in my bag that remained inside”

He laugh “Well, You don't have sex with strangers but you're still cheeky, huh? Good, so uhm… My friends will probably be looking for me to go back home but…can I have your number?” He plead and you say yes, obviously yes.

He takes his phone out of his back pocket waving at you and you grab it, after you’ve fixed your fingers and your shorts, typing down your number. “You know I live 3 hours from here unfortunately but we can manage that I think” he says huskily and you nod.

Yes, you think, I can manage that for you.

It was all so good it felt unreal.

And you know something is actually off when he asks you “do you have a boyfriend?”

Why this question? And why now?

Of course not, you don't have a boyfriend otherwise you wouldn't be here.

It seemed more than obvious to you.

“No, I’m single” you reply, starting to feel really stupid.

And you know something unpleasant is about to materialize between you, a big elephant in a china shop.

You move away from him, scrutinizing his face, feeling a lump in your throat as you ask him with a shaking voice, “Why, you?”

“Oh yes, yes I have a girlfriend” he answers you candidly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world after having done those things with you. Maybe he is even convinced that he did not cheat on her because there was no penetration.

“Are you kidding me? Do you think it’s a brilliant idea to tell me now?” You are speechless.

It’s not like you promised each other something so this confession is unwanted, unnecessary and almost cruel because you were here to have fun and now you feel bad.

And there he stands, puppy dog ​​eyes wide open, like the most innocent person. You would love to slap him.

“It's nothing serious” he dares to say “and we have problems, I want to leave her” blablabla, the usual repertoire of excuses that you have heard a thousand times and that have been passed on to any of your friends.

“Yeah, like I’ve never heard it before… Whatever” You hiss.

“But it’s true, baby!” He whines. He fucking whines, trying to grab your arm “Come here”

“No, we’re done” you take steps back while telling him “go back to your girlfriend”

You can't even look him in the eye anymore "don't text me, okay? I can’t do this”

You feel so dumb and frustrated.

It could have ended there and you would have been fine, it would have been a nice memory.

A guy who made you come twice in a row, great. But then he asked for your number so you thought he could have been something more, like a friend with benefits? A date? Maybe even a boyfriend one day? You’re not one to commit with the first guy you meet but things between the two of you were so hot and steamy and maybe in a little space in your brain you got somehow hopeful about him, that he was someone you could trust.

You don't even understand why he told you that now, to make you feel like a bitch? He ruined everything.

“Yeah…ok” he murmur looking at the ground. He seems really sad, but fuck, too bad for him, you don’t give a damn.

You turn and stride back into the club, looking for your friends.

He follows you inside saying at your back “I’m sorry”

Oh no, you think, you’re not.

You find your friends who immediately notice that you are visibly upset “What happened” asks one of them, taking you to a corner. You look at her and say “Guess what?”

Your friend shrugs and lets out a sigh full of disdain “he has a girlfriend?”

“Fuck yes” you cuss.

Your friend hug you “honey, I’m sorry. Let’s go home, come on” You grab your things from behind the DJ booth and walk out of there. You don’t see Joel on the way out and at this point you don’t want to know where he is.

A couple of days later, you’re at the café having a coffee with your friends. It’s afternoon, it’s hot, and you’re sitting at the tables outside, under white big umbrellas, chatting. There’s a beautiful sun and a pleasant breeze, one of your friend is telling you about a very strange dream she had, and you’re all laughing when your phone vibrates on the table.

It's Joel. What a nerve this guy has.

“Fuck” you hiss and your friends immediately get nervous “what’s going on?”

You roll your eyes and reply “it’s Joel”

“Oh my god” your friend says “and what did he write?”

You click on the notification and read “Hi, I’m sorry about Saturday but I promise my girlfriend and I are over. Can I come visit you so we can talk?”

And you think, “Who can guarantee that? Who can tell me that you don’t have a foot in both camps? I don’t like that. I don’t want that”

Your friends tell you the exact same thing, you live in two different cities, you’ll never know if he really left her, this guy wants to play a double game. It’s always like this.

Fuck Joel.

“There’s nothing to talk about, don’t text me again, please”

Forget about him, you tell to yourself.

Yes, he’s handsome and he made you feel good but no guy will make you his lover. You deserve better and the other girl deserves better too. You don’t even know her but you feel sorry for her.

It’s that time of year again, you’re at the beach with your friends at one of your favorite resort’s beach parties.

You move through the hot, dancing crowd to reach the bar while the dj plays Rock & Roll Queen by the Subways.

You order shots of tequila, salt and lemon, take the salt holder and sprinkle some on the back of your hand just under your thumb along with your friends, you carefully take the lemon slice without dropping the salt and hold the glass in the other hand.

You lick the salt, down the shots in one gulp and pop the lemon in your mouth.

The tequila burns your throat but the lemon gives immediate relief and freshness.

It’s good, it’s all good, it’s your number 4 shots and at this point you’re starting to feel pleasantly drunk, your head is spinning a little and the pounding sound of the speakers makes you feel high but you're still fine, having fun as usual.

6 is your limit, after 6 you’re fucked up.Just another one, you think, and then I’ll stop.

You go back to the middle of the dance floor and hear the beginning of Killing in the name of by Rage Against the Machine. There’s something about this song that makes you feel like you can conquer the whole world, it’s inexplicable but it works every time.

You run to the DJ booth where there are two large, heavy wooden boxes on the sides and you climb onto one of them to dance.

It's kind of like a disco cube, but you're on the beach and if you look ahead you see a stretch of sand and the sea. The dance floor during the day is a basketball court.

A friend of yours climbs up with you while the others watch you from below laughing and dancing.

You sing at the top of your lungs as you dance on the cube and smile at your friends. They are always there for you and they are the closest friends you have.

Your girls are great, the best you could ask for.

You turn to the DJ making a heart with your hands laughing when he does it back to you. You never get bored at these parties and it's certainly also thanks to him and his playlists.

You get off the cube at the end of the song and approach the bar with the girls again.

The last shot is rum and it burns even more than tequila. They serve it with a small glass of pear juice on the side.

You dance some more until you tell your friends you're going away for a smoke.

You stand on the side of the dance floor sitting on a wall, feeling really tipsy but not completely drunk.

You love this place, you always did. It’s like a comforting ritual, coming here every friday night, dancing with your friends, having some drinks, sometimes even hooking up.

You can dress like the hell you want, you can avoid painful heels and stuff, no one has a bad thing to say, you can go dance on the sand barefoot, you can leave your stuff behind the DJ booth without fear of someone stealing it.

You really like dancing, it’s liberating and it’s so much fun.

You throw your cigarette on the ground and put it out under your shoe, then throw the butt in the bin near the entrance.

You head towards the bathrooms, greeting a girl you know, and get in line.

A couple next to you is making out and you think you'd like to do the same with someone.

Damn alcohol, it makes you stupid and horny.

You go into the bathroom and pee, wash your hands, fix your hair and go out. You're trying to get back to your friends when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn around and see a guy who reminds you of someone but you're tipsy, your vision feels a little blurry, maybe you're wrong.

“Hey pretty, would you like a drink?”

You know this voice, you've talked to this dude before. And suddenly you recognize him.

Oh shit.

It’s Joel.

You haven't seen him in a year, he hasn't written to you since you rejected him. You had him relegated to the corner of your brain where you never look, the one where you put unpleasant things to move on.

He’s still gorgeous, with slightly longer hair. He looks at you with a puzzled face because you haven’t said a word yet, probably he doesn’t remember you.

“Are you okay?” he asks. And you answer “yes. yes I’m fine. It’s just… My hair was a different color last year but…don’t you recognize me?”

He raises an eyebrow and looks you up and down. “No…and honestly I feel like a real idiot right now, you’re gorgeous”

It's unbelievable. He didn’t recognize you but he just tried to hit up on you again.

You tell him your name and his eyes widen and his mouth agape: “oh fuck. Oh fuck, it’s you”

“Yeah, here we go again”

He scratches the beard on his jaw “oh well… you’re always stunning” he says, and shrugs his shoulders, raising his arms as if to say “it’s not my fault”.

You don’t know whether to feel flattered or insulted. After all, if he tried again even without knowing it was you, you must really be his type.

Or maybe it's just a coincidence, he wanted someone and you just happened to be in his sights at the right time.

“So? Do you still have a girlfriend?” You ask, crossing your arm on your chest.

“Not anymore” he smirk and and you look at him full of suspicion, furrowing your brows “Is it the truth?”

“Yes, it is.” You’re still in doubt, you take a deep breath while he add “I swear!”

You roll your eyes.

You shouldn’t believe him and you know it. But he’s incredibly handsome and he seems to still want you and last year he kissed you in a way…and then you’re half drunk and that doesn’t help.

“So, do you want something to drink?” And you should just say no, I don’t want anything, turn on your heels and go back to your friends. But unexpectedly your mouth decides otherwise. He smiles smugly and you feel your knees weak. His beautiful brown eyes, you don’t even know how to argue with them as you watch him showing off his puppy look.

Damn Joel, and his eyes.

He puts his arm around your waist and leads you to the bar. You feel like you’re floating in a bubble of horniness.

Pathetic.

It’s the second time and you just lose the ability to say no to him. The way his hand grip around your side, so big and warm, the way he smells clean and minty and slightly citrusy, his luscious hair in which you just want to bury your fingers intertwined with his curls, his lips so plumped and soft that make you hungry…he’s too much and you’re too tipsy.

He orders a shot for you and you drink it, you slide it down your throat like it was nothing.

Joel drags you to the dance floor taking you in his arms, his body pressed against yours and his hands on your back, your hips move in sync as if you both had a muscle memory that had been dormant for a whole year and was immediately reawakened as soon as your bodies met again.

“God, baby, I want you so bad” he whispers in your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth and nibbling at it.

You shiver at the sensation, feeling your head empty and you body overflowing with desire.

“Would you like to take a walk on the beach?” He teases and you nod.

You push your way to the crowd and it’s like a deja-vu that hits you and leaves you numb, he holds you close to him as you walk down the wooden plank path lined with umbrellas and sun loungers that leads to the seashore.

You get halfway down the path when he stops and looks you in the eye “I’ve missed this” If you were completely lucid you’d think that was a bit of a stretch considering you’ve only seen each other once but right now you’re blinded and needy and incredibly horny for him.

He kisses you, lacing his lips with yours, insinuating his tongue into your mouth, feverishly searching for yours. He’s ravenous, just like you remembered him.

You both gasp and when you pull away you laugh softly looking at each other. There is indeed an inexplicable chemistry between the two of you, there is no denying it.

“Shall we sit down?” he murmurs and leads you to one of the loungers.

You continue to kiss as if you were drinking from each other's mouths in a desperate attempt to quench your thirst.

His lips are gorgeous, soft as a feather pillow, fiery as hell, they taste deliciously of tequila and strawberry syrup like the shot you just had.

The music and the crowd are far away, everything around is isolated and silent except for the sound of waves in the distance. The sand has crept into your shoes but you don't care. The sea breeze makes you shiver pleasantly in his arms, it’s all so confusing but beautiful. Joel makes you lie down next to him on the lounger.

You feel so good in his arm, all wrapped around you as he explores every inch of your exposed skin, fingertips a little bit calloused, thick just like you remembered.

The sound and the vibration of his groans into your mouth are so addictive and make you wet instantly.

So wet it’s almost embarrassing.

“I want…” he mumbles and you purr “what?”

“I want to eat you out, babe” he says in a breath

“Here?” Your eyes widen and you feel immediately alarmed. “What if someone see us?!”

“There’s not a soul here, they’re all at the party, no one will see us” he reassures you “If you don’t want it though…”

“Oh no, i want it” you nod repeatedly “I want it so bad” you tug at his shirt looking at him in his damn puppy eyes .

“Okay…” you whisper, still unsure but eager at the same time.

The lounger is is reclined, so it allows you to lean up to your back on the backrest, he lies on his stomach at the bottom of it, with his legs dangling out on either side.

He lifts your skirt and stares at your wet panties. “Still soaking wet for me,” he grins.

You should be ashamed of yourself for indulging in with this guy again? Probably, but it’s not like you give a damn right now. You only want to feel his tongue on your cunt. Playing with your clit.

So you smile, you giggle and let yourself sink into this mess.

He lowers on you leaving a kiss on the wet spot on your underwear and suddenly stick out his tongue to lick it. Just a little flick that leaves you needy and hot.

“Are you going to make me beg for it?” You ask impatiently, your arousal deepening your voice.

He laugh and shake his head “Would you like that?” There’s something a little bit too bold about him, a cocky undertone that you’re not bothered to address right now, you’re still yourself though and you’re not one to do so many ceremonies when it comes to sex.

So you reply “Oh shut up, use this tongue of yours to make me scream already”

He smirks and punctuates “Bossy, huh? I love it” and then he lowers over your pussy and licks again at your panties, a long lap this time, grazing lightly at your clit with his teeth. His eyes are still fixed on yours as his tongue moves over his lower lips, savoring the taste of your cunt “so fucking sweet, babe.”

He slides his fingers into the sides of your panties and slowly pulls them down as you lift your hips to help him.

“Fuck, baby, it’s even better than I thought… I can’ stop looking at her”

His fingers run up your thighs, brushing your skin, they get closer to your center without stopping to stare at it “I was right to want to eat you out last time. God, look at her…” and he runs a finger over your folds “perfect..so perfect.”

You can read eagerness and desire in his eyes, and it makes you feel even less inclined to wait, it’s been a while since anyone's done this to you, your toy is very efficient but you reluctantly have to admit that it's not like feeling a man between your thighs.

He finally presses his lips to your clit and you moan, moan loudly and Joel laughs “You horny little thing”

His tongue runs the entire length of your pussy, from bottom to top and stops again on your clit, swirling above it.

“Yes, oh my god YES”

You should try to be quieter but you can't, not when Joel has decided to devour you, opening your folds with two fingers and dipping his tongue inside you, his nose bumping against your clit giving you shocks of pleasure that shake your whole body.

You squirm and you feel his big hand grabbing your hip, holding you in place “be a good girl, let me do my job” he pulls away from you for just a moment and you can barely see him down there but you can feel every single motion so intensely, his scruffy beard deliciously scratching on your skin so clearly, your senses other than sight so incredibly amplified that you almost begin to appreciate being eat out in the dark, you don’t even care about being busted.

You should really stop walking on this dangerous path but the contrast between the fresh air and Joel's warm mouth is driving you crazy, you feel a ringing in your ears, a tingling sensation that envelops you, you want more.

“Mmm baby, I want to drink you all. I want to dig so deep into you you would think that no one will ever make you feel this good again”

There is an underlaying claim in his voice, a need to be praised and recognized, a need to know for sure that he’s doing the best you can ask for so you heap praise on him, burying a hand in his curls, pushing him into your pussy, bucking your hips regardless his large hand digging in your skin, probably leaving bruised that would be your honor badge tomorrow.

“You’re so fucking great, Joel OH. FUCK. Please don’t stop don’t stop dontstop” and your words die a little in your throat as you try to not fall into his rabbit hole, but it’s too late.

You’re there when he makes his way into you with two of his thick fingers, curling them up, reaching for that inner spot that makes you see stars, knuckles deep into you pumping your pleasure up. His lips close on your clit sucking it into his mouth.

His mouth is soft, experienced, licks and sucks on your butterfly wings in purposeful movements, attentive but relentless as a man starved.

You can feel your juice flowing through your folds, dripping on your thighs and Joel’s tongue searching for every drop of it, digging into your hole, flicking on your bud, caressing your outer lip, you feel like he’s everywhere on you and you’re just seconds away from exploding.

“Yeah baby, give it to me, let me see how wild you can be, let me know how gushed you can get”

Your head spins at the sounds of his words and it gets even worse when his hand moves to your breasts over your top and bra searching for your nipple, his fingertips brushing it while he continues to hold his mouth laced with your pussy.

You whine and tug at his hair, calling his name repeatedly like a litany as he circles around your clit again in sync with his fingers filling your hole and you lay down your metaphorical weapons and indulge in a devastating orgasm.

It washes over you like waves of a stormy sea, making you drown completely into that deep part of you that just wants to feel that exquisite filthy hurricane run over you.

He keeps drinking at you until your body calms down and your moans fade away little by little, giving you back the ability to breathe normally.

“Fuck” you gasp “Holy fucking fuck”

Joel laughs “Something tells me you liked it, don’t you?”

He helps you fixing your panties and comes back up next to you and brings his fingers coated in your juice to your lips, smearing it over them “lick them clean, baby, taste how sweet you are”

You welcome his fingers up to the knuckles, wrapping them with your tongue, sucking greedily “such a good girl for me”

When he makes them pop out of your lips, you move closer to him and hide your face in the warmth of his chest while his hand caresses your back.

You're not thinking about anything, not about your friends who will be looking for you nor about how you should have said no to all of this, your head is only full of what he just made you feel.

And you feel the need to return the favor, the burning desire to taste him like you didn't last time.

You move to the bottom of the lounger, sitting on your heels and letting him lean his back against the backrest like you did before.

“Now it’s my turn.” You coo

“Are you sure?”

“I’m 100% sure” you can glimpse a sparkle in his eyes even if it’s dark as you put your hand over the bulge in his denim cargo shorts “someone is going to have a treat tonight, I’m fucking good at it” you murmur as you rub it over the fabric and he gasps at your touch then smirking and saying “yeah? you think you can handle this in your mouth?”

“You bet I can” you reply, your voice playfully offended.

“Then show me how good you are, baby” he order in a hushed tone.

Your fingers play with the button of his shorts, undoing it an instant later and unzipping, putting them down to his knees as he helps you moving his hips hastily.

Your hand is on his bulge again, massaging through the fabric and you see him swallowing and trying to take a long breath and you can see his pearly white teeth in the dark framed by a his mouth tug into a smile. You lower his underwear as well, just enough to pull his cock out, hard and throbbing already. It’s even bigger than you remembered, the most amazing thick, long, straight shaft you’ve ever seen.

His balls are big too, they hang heavy underneath.

It should belong in an erotic museum or something, someone should produce dildos inspired by Joel's cock.

The prominent veins along its length make you salivate and its big, red, swollen tip immediately compels you to lick it, a little kitty lick just to taste his precum that is already dripping from him.

It’s salty and musky as invades your mouth, it makes you even more needy.

He’s silent, just trying not to lose it already you suppose, the anticipation could be cut with a knife right now, it floats in the air like a thick fog between you.

You wrap your lips around his tip, swirling around it with your tongue, and then you go down on him, more and more, taking all you can in your mouth, it’s heavy and hot and intoxicating, you can deny that you’re imagining how good it would be if he also fills your pussy afterwards. Your cunt throb wildly between you legs as it reaches the back of your throat and your nose bumps into his curls.

You feel tears stinging your eyes and you blink them back along with your gag reflex, wrapping your hand at the base and starting working your mouth over his cock a moment after. Your head goes graciously up and down, licking and sucking, focusing on the redden mushroom.

It might be intimidating for someone but not for you, you’re thrilled by the challenge.

He grunts and whines bucking his hips into you hissing “fuck yeah, suck it baby, just like that… you’re doing so good” his voice sounds like it comes from a cave, deep and raspy.

You take it out of your mouth holding it with your hand and go down to lick one of his balls, it’s a little bit too hairy for your liking but you won’t whine about it. You swirl your tongue around it, take it between your lips and suck, feeling him move beneath you. Run your tongue up from the base to the tip, rubbing it with your hand, up and down on his silky skin coated in your saliva.

You pop it out again and you hold it with both of your hands because it’s this long and big and you can rub the entire length this way, he writhes uncontrollably under your touch and you bite your lower lip, you’re loving making him so desperate. You can even hear it in his labored breathing and you can’t resist going down on his tip again, so red and swollen you could swear he’s about to spurt in your face if you’re not fast enough to get out of the way.

His voice is now so broken and distraught that he can pull off only a sequence of “fuck" and “OH MY GOD” and you’re feeling pride rise in your chest. Still fucking good at it, like you said.

You put it in your mouth again, sucking on it like the most amazing lollipop you’ve ever had and little streaks of saliva slip down your chin, pooling at his base.

You’re probably under a spell because no cock has ever felt so tasty in your mouth, you just can’t stop. And you don’t, until you feel him squirting long strings of semen onto the roof of your mouth and down your throat.

His moans fill your ears as his spending is filling your mouth and your clit ache terribly.

You suck him clean and he relaxes between your lips.

“Fuck, you weren't lying.” he whispers and you proudly reply “I told you so”

“Come here, you little slut” and you laugh ‘cause even this slur feels good. Fuck this guy.

You move in his arms again. You hide your face in the crook of his neck inhaling his scent and he says “Just give me a minute, we’re not done yet.”

You look at him, raising an eyebrow “Oh yeah?”

“As long as you let me fuck you” he says simply “it’s your choice, baby” and those words are enough to make you gushing in your panties again.

“Good job, mister, you asked very nicely” you coo and he smiles taking your lips again in a sweet gentle kiss that feels like heaven.

He’s crumbling your beliefs to not have sex with strangers. Well, technically, he’s not a total stranger and you’re never been so horny before.

The two of you kiss for a while until he asks you to straddle him. You pull his shorts down to his ankles so they’re out of the way and you do. You take his cock in your hand and feel it hardening again, his eyes fixed on you.

You smile mischievously at him as you pull your panties aside and begin to move down on him, keeping one hand at the base of his cock.

You're soaked but you still have to proceed slowly, inch by inch his shaft makes his way inside you, he grunts as he feels your walls widen for him, stretching your core.

He's trying hard to let you do it and not move his hips but you can feel his cock throbbing, it burns a little at first but quickly the sensation turns into a pleasant warmth.

“You’re good?” He asks and you instantly reply “Yes, yes, I feel so full”

“Right, so full of me, baby” he says huskily.

You take a deep breath as you begin to move on top of him, your clit rubbing against his bush, his hand squeezes your hip over your dress, his hand squeezes your hip over your dress, accompanying your thrusts “Yes, just like that, baby, keep going” He’s bucking his hips into you, sinking deeper and deeper into your pussy, you’re on the verge of losing your mind and you just lower your dress and bra and reveal your breasts, you grab his arm and put one of his hands on your breast “touch me” you beg him between moans “touch me, please”

“FUCK” he cuss as he grabs your tit and squeezes it, your nipples rubbing against his palm, you continue to ride him and feel your fluids slipping out of you, wetting your thighs and sliding over his skin.

You place your hand on him, moving it in circles with his, seeking more friction and he takes up the invitation, rubbing harder on your bud.

“You feel so good, so fucking good baby” he groans “go ahead, choke my cock”

You whimper, placing your hands on the lounger and leaning your back backwards while you fasten your pace.

He pushes into you relentlessly, you keep moving swinging your hips, you feel him slamming against your cervix just right in this position, again and again in lewd squelching sounds.

“I'm coming, I'm coming Joel,” you stammer.

“I feel it, I feel it baby, come for me, come all over my cock”

Your cunt clench around him, you feel delirious, totally cock drunk, and yet you can't help but place a hand on your clit, jerking it furiously “Oh my God yes- Fuck - yesyesyes” you’re a babbling mess and Joel too, neither of you are thinking anymore about the fact that you are out in the open and someone might see you, you’re loud and frantic and a moment later you’re gushing over his cock, your orgasm dripping all over him.

“Where do you want me?” he asks in a broken voice

“Inside”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes - FUCK - I'm on the pill” It's true, you started this year due to some period problems you had “Fill me up - just - fuck - fill me up, please” you mutter.

A couple more thrusts and he explodes inside you, painting your walls, squeezing your hips tightly, his fingers buried in your flesh.

He keeps thrusting into you until he’s calm and then slips out and takes you in him arm. You abandon your head against his chest, feeling his seed slowly trickling down and it’s a sensation you never experienced before, you’re not used to make guys come inside but Joel it just felt right. You don’t even feel drunk anymore, you’re drunk on him.

“God darling, that was so amazing,” he whispers as he kisses your hair and holds you tight.

And you smile. You smile like an idiot, a totally well pleased idiot though.

And just when you're thinking that nothing could ruin this moment you hear voices approaching from the seashore, you look at Joel with wide eyes and you dress faster than the light and run across the sand to return to the party. Was it someone returning from a night walk? The police? You'll never know. You stop as soon as you reach the end of the walkway, you look at each other and laugh out loud while you feel your heart beating like a drum in your chest.

“Fuck” you hiss under your breath “I hope they didn't see us!”

“Maybe they enjoyed the show” Joel says mischievously.

You are officially sober after the scare, you slap Joel's arm laughing and rolling your eyes "come on, mister exhibitionist, help me find my friends" You take his hand and you make your way towards the DJ console, where luckily you find the girls again. They all open their eyes wide when they see you come back with him but your smile this time tells them a different story.

They don't even ask you where you were and you rush to apologize for leaving without warning.

They look at each other, still suspicious and you can understand why, they love you and don't trust Joel. Joel for his part smiles at everyone and introduces himself, casual and self-confident as if they didn't know what happened last year.

You talk to them for a bit and you think he really knows his stuff because your friends seem a lot less nervous than before, in the meantime you see a boy with dark hair approaching, he has a mustache and a bit of a beard and features that resemble Joel's.

He taps Joel on the arm and exclaims "Hey! Where the fuck were you?"

Joel immediately turns to him and it's clear that he knows him "Hey Tommy! Um... actually, I was with her"

Tommy shifts his gaze to you and his big dark eyes scrutinize you carefully as he shakes your hand "Nice to meet you, Tommy, this idiot's brother"

Oh.

You didn't know he had a brother, he never told you about him. In your new state of sobriety you realize that you haven't talked about a damn thing.

You were so euphoric that you didn't think about it until now.

Tommy is slightly shorter but just as attractive, you smile warmly at him and he smiles back but then turns back to Joel “me and the others are going home, are you coming?”.

Joel sadly replies “yeah, sure, just give me a minute”.

He takes your hand and you move away from them a little, you look into his eyes and think that maybe you could think of getting lost in that look, despite your lack of faith in relationships and especially in men.

“I have to go” he says squeezing both your hands in his “do you think I can use your number this time?” He has such a sweet look that you can only say “yes, sure” and you kiss him again, feeling like you’re in one of those stupid romantic comedies.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Joel whispers when you break the kiss.

He smiles with his whole face, eyes crinkled at the edges and lips curved into a smirk. He’s so damn beautiful.

You walk back to Tommy and your friends and Joel says “we can go” turning back to you and smiling at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. You feel your knees buckle and a tiny twinge in the corner of your heart at the thought that he lives 3 hours away and you don’t know when you’ll see him again. It doesn’t matter, you think, it’s worth it.

You and your friends grab your stuff behind the DJ booth, say goodbye, and head out to the parking lot. You know they're all waiting until you get to the car to pepper you with questions and giggles.

You feel like you're walking on a cloud.

The parking lot is pretty big and dark at this hour, you hear voices coming from some cars to the left and at first you don’t pay attention, then you clearly hear “Holy shit Joel!” and you stop.

It’s Tommy’s voice and from his tone he doesn’t seem happy.

You stay still without making any noise, hoping that the darkness will come to your aid.

“What do you plan on telling Tess when that girl calls you? Are you going to keep this a secret from her? Are you going to leave her?”

Your heart freezes.

No, not again.

“She’s been your girlfriend for three years, for Christ’s sake.”

You don’t hear Joel’s response, just Tommy screaming.

And you don’t care, he still has a girlfriend. Joel still has a girlfriend, even though he swore he’d dumped her.

You don't need to know anything else. You take your phone out of your bag, scroll through your contacts and block his number.

Your unaware friends have already reached the car and are putting their bags in the back seat. You reach them before they can call you out loud and slide into the back seat next to the bags, while they argue about who should sit in front you close your eyes and pretend to be asleep.

You don't have the strength to admit that you were wrong, you don't have the strength to see them sad for you.

Sometimes life doesn't go the way we want it to, you'll swallow this morsel too in the end. It's just more bitter than you expected.

You're not shaking, it's just a little bit of you that's gone.

[satosugusandwich]

𝔏𝔢𝔱 𝔐𝔢 𝔖𝔢𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲’𝔯𝔢 𝔐𝔢𝔞𝔫…

True Form!Sukuna x Fem!Afab!Reader (This is an AU!!! Sukuna is not a homicidal maniac cannibalistic murderer! I think he’s sexy and my morals say no dick from crazy murderer BUT dick from crazy 😍)

Cw: mentions of violence from previous chapter, body image issues mentioned, sukuna is kinda an asshole

Description: You've been friends with Yuji Itadori for some time now and have seen the best, the worst, and the strange in all your years of knowing him. You've never thought he was one to have any crazy secrets and well... you were wrong. And now the demon bound to Yuji is bound to you too! How fun! Good thing that you aren't stupid and won't fall for a being that by no means should you have ever interacted with! Right? Right...?

*despite this being an aged up version of yuji, there will be no sexual stuff involving him, also the violence is only in the first chapter with a few mentions after that!!! Cross posted on Ao3 under Spicycrunchroll! THERE WILL BE LOTS OF SMUT LATER ON!*

Chapter 1 here (chapters will also get much longer once the plot is moving)

Chapter 2: Pain in the Ass

So now you smell like piss, vape juice, cum, tears, and malicious horror in the front of your best friend's car. Nothing about anything is normal right now and as much as you wanted to know about the monster in the back seat, you were still in shock from almost being trafficked and also knowing that the monster brutally attacked the men that were attacking you. They might have deserved it, but it’s not exactly the most enjoyable experience for you. You looked into the rear view mirror and could see the monster glaring out the window, seemingly bored and watching the lights of the city as Yuji sped to your home.

Yuji broke the silence. “He’s bound to me. Cuz of some family curse. He’s been sealed for a long time, but I reawakened him. You can see him now, right?” The last sentence sounded almost worried.

Your throat ached from sobbing. “Yeah.”

Yuji’s face was pale and drooping. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. I’ll help you when we get home.”

You closed your eyes and another tear spilled. You attempted to shift away from the thoughts of what just happened to you, “Thank you. I’m not going to ask about him too much, right now it’s all a lot to process, but what… is he?”

Sukuna huffed from the back seat, shifting ever so slightly. “I’m a demon. You can ask me.”

“Hey!” Yuji called out. “Don’t talk to her like that after all of what she just went through.”

Sukuna sighed and remained silent, turning his eyes to look at you and fixating on the outline of your face. “I’m no threat to her."

Yuji didn't respond, instead he focused on driving home, not knowing exactly what to say to you. You didn't know what to say either, your mind racing back and forth between the traffickers, the man you went out with, and the demon in the back seat. Even though you wanted to find anything else to talk about, you couldn't help but be curious about him. You tried to eye him through the rearview mirror, looking at his features. If it wasn't for his intimidating and inhuman appearance, you'd think he was pretty hot, and he also looked a lot like Yuji. Much larger than Yuji, and much much larger than Yuji. He has to slump down in his seat and his legs are pressed against the back of your seats, he easily takes up half the space in the back of the car, and on top of that, he's built like a wrestler. You couldn't help but stare at him, taking in the features of the more monstrous side of his face. Sukuna certainly notices your stare, but says nothing of it. Under normal circumstances, he'd tease but he's not exactly interested with upsetting you more. After your stare lingers on him long enough, he meets your eyes in the mirror and you quickly look away, an shiver running up your body. He couldn't help but smirk at your reaction.

When you arrived at your apartment, Yuji insisted on holding onto as you wandered inside together, along with Sukuna following closely behind. You didn't ask about him even when he followed the both of you inside, standing to the side of the living room while you and Yuji wandered to your bathroom. After what felt like a century, you removed your soiled clothes and tossed them directly into the trash, not wanting to wear them ever again. You didn't even care that he saw you strip naked, he didn't even care either, he was more focused on the fact that he's gonna have to find some way to explain what just happened and what that might mean for you. You didn't have an inkling of what he was thinking about or what had even happened to make Sukuna suddenly visible to you and Yuji wasn't very excited to explain it to you.

After showering and sobbing for almost another hour, you finally left the bathroom to get dressed, your eyes avoiding the mirror as you rushed to get dressed, disgusted by your own body. You opened bedroom door and went out to see Yuji who was dead silent on the couch. Sukuna had moved from the door and was now looking through your fridge. He paid no mind to your presence even as you gaped at him rummaging through your food, Yuji noticed your expression and turned to Sukuna.

"Don't just eat her shit!" He sounded exasperated as though he had this conversation before.

Sukuna groaned. "You humans and your decorum. Drives me insane." He shut your fridge but took out sandwich meat and started to eat directly from the packaging.

"Um. You can get bread and cheese." You said, making both of them stop moving. "Did I say something wrong?"

Sukuna started to laugh. "Here the brat was, concerned you'd be upset I'm stealing your food." The mouth on his stomach also stretched into a smile before opening up and he dumped the rest of the lunch meat directly into it, making you gape even wider. "That's enough for now." He stepped out of your kitchen and immediately went to the recliner in the room and sat down, watching your face.

Yuji sighed again and gestured for you to sit down. "Listen, y/n. I have something I need to tell you now. I know you have a lot on your mind, but I don't just wanna tiptoe around." Yuji swallowed, looking down at the floor.

Sukuna seemed to be already annoyed before Yuji even started started talking, groaning dramatically. "Do I need to tell her? Spit it out."

He quickly quipped back, "I'm telling her!"

Sukuna rolled his eyes and sunk back into the recliner which now looks significantly smaller with him seated on it. You shifted your gaze back to Yuji and waited for him to speak. "What is it? Can't be any worse than what we just went through."

"His name is Ryomen Sukuna. Or at least that's the name that was given to him. He's a demonic spirit of the past that became bound to my family a long ass time ago, but after the first person he was bound to died, he was sealed away, but then one day, I was fucking around with some shit that was passed on to me and... well... next thing I knew he was sitting on my bed." He looked to your face for a reaction, but all you could muster was a stare. He took that as a sign to continue. "Sukuna is bound to me and as a result of me asking him to save you, he's bound to you now."

You blinked a few times before speaking. "What? What does that mean?"

Yuji looked to Sukuna then back to you. "Well, for one, you can see him. And now you can interact with him freely. Sukuna can interact with whatever he wants, just not whoever. Because of his bindings to my ancestor, he can only do certain things, like for instance, he can't hurt someone unless given a direct command. And the reason he is bound to you and not the guys he attacked is because of the way he had to save you. You see, the guy who first orchestrated your kidnapping was also bound to a demon and this demon was--"

"A pain in the ass." Sukuna interrupted. "A pitiful excuse of one too. A manipulative bastard that made a vow they regret now." Sukuna had leaned forward, looking at you with all four eyes. "By killing the bastard, I ended up creating a vacant binding and the weakling decided to reflect the binding back onto me. Luckily, the stupid shit didn't know how to do the spell properly so I was able to choose who I had to make a vow with. I don't desire to be commanded around by anyone else and thankfully, you aren't the type to demand others."

You didn't say anything in response to him, he's right. If you had the courage to boss anyone around, you wouldn't have slept with all the one pump chumps and found yourself in the situation you did. Yuji, on the other hand, was pissed that he said that to you.

"What the hell? She was literally kidnapped and almost sex trafficked, what the fuck is wrong with you!?" Yuji shouted and Sukuna had no expression.

The demon cocked his head to the side and rested it on his hand. "I didn't say anything hurtful. She's more docile than the other assholes who were in the proximity."

You rose from the couch and Yuji panicked, before he could say anything you reassured him. "He didn't hurt my feelings. Don't worry. I want to go to bed."

Yuji got up to follow. "Do you need me to sleep with you?"

Swallowing a tightness in your throat, you answered. "Could you?"

"Of course!"

Sukuna watched the two of you retreat to your bedroom and couldn't help but wonder why you stopped the conversation so soon. He isn't fond of the situation himself, when he went after the man that kicked you out of his house, he was hoping it'd be a quick return to sender and was beyond angered when he was faced with one of his own. Few demons have the audacity to openly manipulate humans, let alone the pride. He was grateful they weren't a human and was able to get rid of them, but wasn't pleased with the fact that now he has a new "owner". Truthfully, the whole situation left him scowling and exceptionally eager to release his frustrations. The humans that tried to apprehend you were foolish to ally themselves with such a cunt of a demon, but even more foolish to try and steal a human for the sake of a demon's orders. Really, Sukuna leaving one of them without the ability to speak ever again and the other with a few shattered bones was a blessing. The ones that attacked Yuji should be grateful that Itadori was compassionate enough to leave them only with some broken limbs as well. Sukuna's takes no thrill in fighting the weak and barely takes any enjoyment in other's suffering, in fact, compared to most demons, he finds it boring. And here he is, stuck with the most boring people he could have as masters, at least Itadori's ancestor was a fighter himself and sought strength similar to Sukuna. Then again, he reminds himself, at least Itadori and you are stupid enough to be funny.

Sukuna sighed to himself and looked out the window of your apartment, he's going to have an overwhelmingly uneventful life with being bound to both of you. Here he was, so ecstatic to be awoken once again, just to have to watch a shitty college romance between two brats and now watch your pathetic and sad life. At least amp up the drama if he's stuck as a bystander! Well, he wishes for that, but unbeknownst to him is that he already has plenty of drama for himself approaching at high speed now that you're in his life, as he is in yours.

[1-imaginary-girl]

A Mischievous Love Story - Part 8

Loki x Reader, Thor x Reader (platonic)

Summary: The reader and Loki were madly in love until you found out that he died. Deciding to follow Thor on his adventures, you soon find out the truth about what happened to your boyfriend. This series is a re-telling of Thor: Ragnarök with the reader inserted into the story. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Warnings: Descriptive violence.

Word Count: 5.2k

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

I've finally returned to this series and yes it was because of season 2 of Loki and yes I'm still completely wrecked over it. There isn't much interaction between Loki and the reader this part, apologies for that, but after this it will be mainly just them as I stray from the plot of the movie to focus on their romance!

She’s my wife. The words echo in your mind over and over again as you stare at Loki. You heard him say those words, you know you did, and yet there’s no way that could have happened. There���s no way that he just called you his wife. Right?

Your mouth is hanging open and you want to close it or say something but you're in shock. Loki shoots a glance your way and grimaces. There’s no way.

“Your wife?” the Grandmaster asks, equally as confused as you. For some reason, you also hear disappointment in his voice. But you don’t have time to dissect that. The Grandmaster looks at you and then down at your hand. The jig is up, you think. “I never noticed that.”

Wait what? You look down at your left hand and again appear utterly shocked. There, on your ring finger, sits a wedding ring. It’s absolutely gorgeous. A gold band with emerald leaves wrapping around it. For a moment, it all feels real. The ring is perfect and you're married to the man you love. But reality settles in all too quickly.

The ring has been conjured up by Loki’s magic. You look at his hand and see a matching band. You remember that you're not married to the man you love. You're pretending to be married to a man who broke your heart. And the pieces plummet into your stomach, sinking like stone.

You want to glare at Loki but the Grandmaster is still looking your way. If you don’t play along, he’ll probably punish Loki for trying to lie to him. So you send a smile his way and nod. You can’t get yourself to speak.

“Please, let her go. She can stay here with me. I promise she’ll fit right in,” Loki says, using his most persuasive tone of voice. The Grandmaster seems to consider it.

“Alright,” he says. You toss aside your anger for now and rejoice in the fact that you don’t have to fight anyone. Although you will not be thanking Loki for getting you out. Not like this. “If your wife prevails in her fight, she will be free to accompany you in your place among the higher-ups.”

“Wait what?” Loki says and you slump a little in defeat. But you don’t let it keep you down. All you have to do is win one fight and you're free to enjoy a luxurious vacation until you can find a way to escape this planet.

“It’s a deal,” you say, looking at the Grandmaster. He smiles as if you've just sealed your fate. But you're used to people underestimating you and you've come to enjoy it. It only makes it that much more satisfying when you win.

“Wait, can’t we just—” Loki tries to say something but the Grandmaster’s mind is set. He extends a hand towards one of your restrained hands. You shake it to the best of your abilities despite your hand being tied down.

“I look forward to seeing how this plays out,” he says with a giddy smile on his face. 

“As do I,” you say.

“Y/N—”

“See you on the battlefield,” the Grandmaster says before he hits a button on some remote and your chair is moving. You're caught off guard but determined not to show any fear. Instead, you'll focus on anger. 

"Y/N!" Loki calls after you again but the wheels have already been set in motion. There’s no going back. 

†††

Your surroundings pass by you in a blur, and you find it hard to focus on anything you pass. You allow the chair to take you where it’s programmed to go without resistance. Next thing you know, you're being hauled into a circular, white room and you land roughly on the ground, snapping you from your thoughts. You turn just in time to see the big cell door being slammed shut. You contemplate taking your anger out on the door, but you feel so drained of energy that you just let your head fall back with a sigh.

“Are you alright?” You hear a voice say, causing you to jump as you hadn’t taken note of anyone else in here. You push yourself onto your elbows and turn your head. “Over here! Big pile of rocks waving at you.”

As the voice said, you see an alien made of rocks casually sitting against the cell wall with his hand raised to wave. You've seen aliens like him, but not this species specifically. Beside him is another alien with purple skin that reminds you of an insect, with four black beady eyes and mandibles for a mouth. The creature is also in a full suit of armour with two blades where its arms should be.

“Yeah, I’m actually a thing, I’m a being,” the rock alien says. “Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Korg. I’m kind of like the leader in here. I’m made of rocks, as you can see, but don’t let that intimidate you. You don’t need to be afraid unless you’re made of scissors.” The alien, Korg, giggles to himself as he and the other alien stand up. “Just a little rock-paper-scissors joke for you. This is my very good friend over here, Miek. He’s an insect and has knives for hands.”

Miek moves his arm/blades around in what looks like a karate move, but you think it’s meant to be a gesture for hello. That was a hell of an introduction, you think to yourself. As this isn’t the strangest interaction you've had today, you slowly stand up to properly greet them.

“Hi,” you say with a little wave, which feels awkward but they seem to respond well to it. “My name is Y/N.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” Korg says and Miek does another karate-like gesture. Your brain is pounding from your previous conversation but you figure you should be polite. Especially if you are going to be stuck in here for who knows how long with them.

“So,” you say, wondering what to ask. “What are you guys in for?”

“Well I tried to start a revolution but didn’t print enough pamphlets, so hardly anyone turned up,” Korg says. “Except for my mum and her boyfriend, who I hate. As punishment, I was forced to be in here and become a gladiator. Bit of a promotional disaster.” Then he leans in and starts to whisper. “Actually, I’m trying to organize another revolution right now. It’s a bit underdeveloped at the moment, but don’t let that deter you. Do you reckon you’d be interested in something like that?”

“No, actually I’m a bit busy at the moment.” You look past Korg and down the hall of this weird prison. If you can find an exit, maybe you can escape before the fight. From there, you can try to commandeer a ship and go back to Asgard. Simple. A quick breath, and you take off running down the circle. You're only running for a few seconds before Korg reappears in front of you.

You widen your eyes and look back before facing the alien again. “Did you—”

“Ah, yeah, no, this whole thing is a circle. But not a real circle, more like a freaky circle,” he says, and you just scrunch your face, trying to wrap your head around the whole thing. When’s the last time you've had a proper rest? You know, without being knocked out. Feels like a lifetime ago. “It doesn’t make much sense, but nothing around here makes sense. That’s the only thing that makes sense.”

You slump down against the wall as Korg talks. “So, I’m really stuck in here?” 

“I’m afraid so. But it isn’t all bad. Miek and I have made up a few games to pass the time. For example, there’s this one called—”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t think I’m up for any games at the moment.” You sigh and let your head hit the wall. “It’s been a long day.”

Korg gives you a sympathetic look before nodding. “I get that. Feel free to have a rest, Miek and I will look over you if you’d like,” he says. Despite everything that’s happened, you smile at them.

“Thank you.” Korg gives a nod while Miek does another expression you can’t quite figure out. With that, you settle against the wall. It’s not the most comfortable, but you've slept in worse. You sigh and sleep quickly takes over.

You're not sure how long you've slept for, but you're abruptly woken up by the sounds of shouting.

“Stay away from her, you freaky ghost!” you hear Korg yell. Groggily, you pull your eyes open to see Miek in a fighting stance and Korg throwing fallen bits of himself at—

“I just need to talk to her, I’m not going to hurt her!” Loki says. He’s standing a few feet away from you. You're confused as you watch Korg’s rocks pass through him before you fully wake up and understand it’s an illusion. Part of you is hurt, another isn’t so surprised anymore. Another one of his tricks.

“Like I’m going to trust the word of a freakin’ ghost!” Korg yells back. You realize that they really did watch over you as you slept, which makes you smile. As much as you love seeing Korg try to hit Loki with rocks, the two of you need to talk.

“It’s okay guys,” you speak up, clearing your throat. They all turn to look at you and Loki looks relieved. “I know him.”

Korg looks him over and Miek doesn’t stand down until Korg gives the go ahead. “You’re safe for now ghost,” Korg says threateningly. Korg looks at you once again and when you nod your head to say that you're okay, him and Miek walk a little way down the circle to give you two privacy.

“Making new friends already?” Loki jokes, trying to lighten the mood. You don’t respond. Instead, you look down at the ring still on your finger. Loki sighs. “I understand you’re upset—” You glare at him and he sighs again. “Look I’m sorry, but it was the only thing I could think of to protect you!” 

You bristle at that. “So tell him that I’m your friend or a cousin, not your freaking wife!” you say. You don’t have the energy to yell at him right now.

“You don’t understand, the Grandmaster…he’s very particular about who he allows up there. It wouldn’t have been enough,” he says calmly. You shake your head.

“Then maybe you should have just let me compete normally,” you say, your anger growing the longer he’s here. “I could have made a deal to get out of here not prolong my stay.”

“Annabel, you haven’t seen the competitions,” he insists, stepping closer. “I have. They’re brutal, and I haven’t even seen his beloved Champion.”

“I told you, I can handle myself,” you spit out. 

“Maybe, but I can’t just stand by and watch you get hurt.” Those words cracked something in you. You snap your eyes up to meet his and from the fury in them, he knows he said the wrong thing.

“You didn’t want me to get hurt? You don’t think this hurts?!” You stand up and shove the ring in his face. “You don’t think having to pretend to be your wife after you broke my heart is going to hurt me?” He looks down in shame, pain on his face. Good. “I’d rather face his Champion right now then have to endure that kind of pain.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“You keep apologizing but nothing changes with you! You keep making selfish moves and tricking people—”

“Hey, that was not selfish.” He defends himself but you don’t want to hear it.

“You tricked me, Loki. Again,” you say with tears in your eyes. His sudden defensiveness is crushed. “You tricked me into pretending to be your wife. Do you know how messed up that is?”

“Love—”

“Do not call me that!” you yell, getting into his face. You try to poke him in his chest but your finger passes right through him. You laugh humorlessly as a tear slips down your cheek. “God, you’re using a trick right now!” He looks hurt. “You couldn’t even come to see me yourself, you had to hide behind an illusion.”

“This place isn’t easy to get into,” he argues quietly, but you shake your head.

“I can’t fight with you again right now.” You turn away, moving back to the wall. This move seems to hurt him more. You slide down back to where you were. “Just go back to whatever party I’m sure the Grandmaster is hosting.”

“Y/N, please, let’s talk about this—” he begs, coming closer but you don’t move a muscle.

“I don’t have anything else to say to you,” you say, defeated. His eyebrows draw close together and if you didn’t know better, you’d say his eyes are welling. 

“Please,” he whispers, and if he were really here, maybe you would have sought comfort from him. Maybe you would’ve kept talking. But he’s not.

“Go,” you say, keeping your eyes trained to the floor.

After a moment of hesitation, where it seemed like he wanted to reach out, but he couldn’t, he drew back. He takes a step backward. “Just…” He seems at a loss for words. “Please be careful.” When you don’t respond, his image shimmers and disappears. You put your head between youry legs and let a few more tears fall.

†††

You soon find yourself escorted into some sort of training rooms. Species of all kinds can be seen preparing for a fight. For the first time, you really start second-guessing your decision to fight. But you won’t give up, not yet.

The training area is next to the stadium and you can hear the distance sounds of cheering which makes you cringe. How could people actually watch this and enjoy it? You're running your fingers along the weapons, trying to decide which would suit you best, when you glance over at the divide in the area. On the other side of a wall of lasers is a bar of sorts. It looks rough, not the kind of bar you would want to find yourself in. But then your eyes widen.

Drinking at the counter, is the woman who got you thrown into this hellscape. Your blood boils as you try to find Korg. When you do, you point towards her and say, “Korg, that’s the woman who put me in here! Who the hell is she?”

“Ah, that’s scrapper 142,” he says, recognizing her. Interesting that she doesn’t seem to have a real name. “She’s a toughie, put the best of the best in here. Those Asgardians, man.”

Your burning gaze at the scrapper snaps back to Korg. “Wait, she’s Asgardian?” you ask. 

“Yup,” he says. This changes everything. If you can talk to her, you can tell her what’s happening at Asgard and she can help you escape. And you won’t need to be anybody’s fake wife.

You hurriedly make your way over to the laser wall. “Hey! Hey, you!” you yell at her, not the most polite way to start the conversation but she did toss me to the wolves, possibly literally. She cocks her head and notices you. She smirks.

“If it isn’t the interesting human,” she says while taking a sip from her burning beer. You flinch. “I’m excited to see what you’ve got.”

“I need to talk to you,” you say, ignoring her statement. You won’t let her rattle you up again, not when you need her help. She looks at yo, waiting. “You’re Asgardian, right?”

She doesn’t reply but rather scoffs and goes in for another swig. As she does, you see an interesting tattoo on her left arm. You squint at it, and although you don’t remember what it means, you recognize it as an Asgardian symbol. Perfect, proof. “Okay, well, I’ve just come from there,” you say, and she looks at you in confusion. “I’m best friends with the prince, Thor Odinson? God of thunder?” You don’t mention Loki for obvious reasons.

“Good for you. Tell his Majesty I say hi if you ever see him again,” she says, walking away. Your eyes widen.

“No wait! That’s not the point,” you say, following her as she walks. She sighs and waits for you to continue. “Asgard is in danger. I need your help to escape this place and return to help or else the whole realm is doomed.”

“Pass,” she says, not looking at you. Your eyes blow open.

“Wait what?”

“Y/N the human, you’re up!” you hear someone yell from across the room. You sigh. Of course that’s the name they’ve given you. 

“Good luck!” she says, as two guards come to take you. You're desperate, trying to convince her and stall your fight.

“A lot of people are going to die, and you’re just okay with that? Your own people?” you say enraged. “Then you’re a traitor to the crown and a coward.”

This catches her attention and it seems you've hit a sore spot. “First of all, my people are with Sakaar now,” she seethes. “And second, I’ve given enough to the crown. It’s no longer my problem.”

Two guards grasp you by your arms as you contemplate her words. Yo struggle against them out of frustration, but you don’t forget the chip in your neck. “Good luck,” the ex-Asgardian says as you're dragged away from her.

You're taken into a room and sat in another chair with handcuffs. “You guys sure do love locking people up,” you say to no one in particular. The workers don’t even give you a second glance. You're taken through a series of experiments in which they change your look completely. Considering you've been stuck in your regular earthly clothes for quite a while now, you welcome the change.

First, they do your hair. A really old man comes in with an intricate device that you feared would ruin your hair completely. But all he did was tie it into an intricate braid and made a crown on your head.

Next, they painted your face, and you didn’t feel like much of a fighter as they applied blush and lipstick. You couldn’t help but wonder who that is for. They paint three lines of purple down the middle of your face and you try to ask what it means but no one gives you an answer.

To finish off your debut look, they fit you into proper fighter attire. A chest plate the same colour as the lines on your place is fitted with blue, metal shoulder pads. The pants are black with blue knees pads to match the shoulders. The boots are black and so is your utility belt. The finishing touch, however, is the purple cape that they pin to your left shoulder and your waist. 

They hand you a helmet that you're to put on after your entrance. You roll your eyes at the dramatics, although you do admire the helmet. It’s gold and with a wing on each side flowing upwards. There are also two pieces that move down to protect the sides of your face.

You are given the weapons you have chosen: a strong but simple sword and a powerful and small shield. You're hoping you can rely on your powers, but if all else fails, you have two daggers strapped to your sides so you can go down swinging. But as you walk towards the arena, you can feel the water around you: the pipes in the building, the drinks from the crowd…you can even use human or alien liquid if you have to.

You're told to stand in front of the gate until it opens and then you're left alone. You can hear the crowds much clearer from where you are now and they sound bloodthirsty. You grit your teeth as you listen to the Grandmaster go on and on about the battles, celebrating the deaths of contestants before you which makes your stomach turn. But it also fuels your energy: you will not be one of those names. All you have to do is win one fight and you're free from this madness…and thrust into another sort of madness.

You’ve fought plenty of aliens before with Thor but never in an arena in front of a crowd. A part of you is excited by this opportunity, a chance to feel what it was like to be a gladiator back on Earth. You hold onto that as you hear the Grandmaster announce you.

“Tonight, we are pleased to have a new contestant,” he says and the crowd goes wild. You bounce on the balls of your feet and focus on your breathing. “I can guarantee you’ve never seen anything like her. You’re in for quite a treat.” You swallow as the gates slowly start to rise but you set your features to stone. You’ve got this. “We’ll see what you think. Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen I give you…” You walk onto the sands of the arena. “Y/N the Human!”

As you enter the arena, a wave of boos greets you. You assume they don’t like newcomers here, especially not of the human variety. And although the sound floods your senses and threatens your confidence, you set your eyes across the plain to the other gate. The crowd doesn’t matter. You need to see who you're facing.

The Grandmaster is projected on a hologram overlooking the entire stadium. That makes sense for a man with his ego. But as you scan the crowds, your eyes catch on one box in particular. It stands out from the crowd and you can’t see in it but you do see the colour yellow painting the inside. Without a doubt, you know it’s the Grandmaster’s box. And without a doubt, you know Loki’s in there. It’s like you can feel him. You wonder what he’s thinking as you stand transformed in a giant arena. You wonder if he doubts your skills, despite his words. A new type of anger sparks at that thought and you set your gaze straight ahead. This is a chance for you to show him how you've grown without him.

“Isn’t she something?” the Grandmaster laughs as the crowd continues to boo you. You let the taunts roll past you, harbouring your energy. “Alright, now it’s time to welcome back a previous competitor.” A rumble rolls through the crowd as the boos quiet down. “She’s a warrior who has made quite the name for herself.” Red puffs of smoke burst over the audience and you place the helmet over your head and secure it. “What she lacks in looks she makes up for in brute strength.”

Across the arena, the other door begin to open. “You love her, I love her…” the Grandmaster builds the tension and you tighten the grip on your sword. “Ladies and gentlemen, get ready for…Hindaa the Ruiner!” 

The doors open to reveal a tall alien woman, donned in red armour. The crowd goes wild, and you try not to let it sway you as you try to size up your opponent. It’s hard to see from where you are, but she looks to have gray skin with a dark-haired ponytail. She waves her arms for the crowd, holding a mace in one hand and a club in the other. So much for your gladiator’s battle.

You wait for her to approach you, grabbing hold of the water beneath the arena with your powers. Your eyes are laser-focused on Hindaa. The woman finishes showing off to the crowd and immediately starts racing towards you. That’s when you truly see how big and muscular she is, standing at least six and a half feet tall. 

You don’t move. You drown out the noises from the stands and wait until she hits the center of the arena. When she does, you tighten your hold on the water and summon it forth, bursting through the floors of the arena at a speed that catches Hindaa in its waves and throws her into the air. You watch as she’s tossed back to the other side and lands heavily, a cloud of dust spreading around her.

The crowd is silent as you let the water wash onto the arena floor, wetting the sands. Then all at once, an eruption of applause and cheers emerge from the crowd. But your focus isn’t to entertain them. You move across the arena as Hindaa picks herself up off the ground, staggering to her feet and dripping wet. The closer you get to her, the angrier you can see she is. You smile and then see her launching towards you.

She runs and jumps to tackle you, but you take hold of the water again and quickly freeze it, entrapping Hindaa in an iceberg. She struggles and growls as her head remains unfrozen. You walk until you stand a few feet away from her.

“Hindaa was it?” you ask. She growls again. Up close, you can see that her skin is, in fact, gray. But more than that, there are red dotted stripes covering her body. Your eyes widen as you recognize what species she is. “You’re a Kylosian.” She stops her movements to glare at you. “How did you end up here?”

“That’s none of your business,” she hisses, continuing her struggle.

“Ah, so you can speak English. Good,” you say. “Because I wanted to have a quick chat.” The audience has settled down and you can hear whispers of confusion. You internally smile at how the Grandmaster must be reacting. “I don’t want to hurt you, I’m sure you’re a lovely person.” She snarls again. You keep smiling. “Anyway, I just need to win this battle and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

She’s staring you down, and you foolishly think that she’s considering your offer. “You don’t want to hurt me?” she asks and you nod in agreement. Yes, this plan might work after all. “That’s a shame.” You catch the cracking sound too late. “Because I want to hurt you.”

Before you can react, Hindaa’s right hand bursts through the ice and with it, her mace. The weapon swings and catches you in the side, sending you flying several feet away. You swallow a scream before you hit the ground. You groan. Begrudgingly, you look down at your side to see three large scratches ripping through your uniform. You take a deep breath and then fire yourself up, ignoring the pain.

"Have it your way then," you say as you pick yourself off the ground. Just as you're on your feet, Hindaa is crashing down on you with her club but this time you react quicker. You bring up your shield and the club smashes down onto it. You wince at your arm, but then you swing your sword up and catch her in the hand, causing her to drop her club. You quickly summon the water from the ice and trap the club in a bubble, casting it far, far away from the arena. Hindaa looks down and glares back up at you. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“I wasn’t trying to be nice,” she growls and you look at her in confusion as your sarcasm misses her completely. Her mace quickly comes swinging at you and you defend yourself with the shield again, but the force of her swing causes you to stumble back. Caught off guard, the mace comes back around, this time aiming at your legs. It swipes across your skin and you hiss as your knees buckle and you're on the ground again. 

Hindaa continues her attack, kicking her leg up and catching you in the chin, throwing your head to the ground. You groan as your head swirls in pain. You can feel your nose pulsing in pain and feel blood begin to drip down. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Your spirit is wavering, and that’s when you feel something on your hand. You look down to see Loki’s ring pulsing. It’s never done that before. You risk a glance over at the Grandmaster’s box, but you still can’t see him. But he’s still here with you. Conflicting emotions rise within you, but it gives you the strength you need to get back up. 

When you're on your feet, Hindaa swings at you but the mace is too slow this time, as you tuck and roll over to her side. You catch her side with your sword and she cries out. Her mace comes back but your shield is there, and with your other hand you swipe at her legs. She cries out again. Before her mace can take another swing, you jump and slice your sword along her hand, causing her to drop the mace. You did the same trick as you did with the club. 

With no weapons, she charges at you. You use your shield but she still tackles you. She crushes your body under hers and rips the shield away from you, wrenching your arm to the side causing you to cry out. With fury, you slice your sword across her back, and when she bends in pain, you slip out from under her. 

You're both dripping blood and your bodies are swaying, but you're determined. You toss your sword away, your power brimming to the surface. Before she can stand again, you take a few steps back before running and jumping towards her. As you're midair, you summon the water to freeze over your fist. You fall and crash your frozen fist down onto her head. You land on your feet, just barely. You're panting, but when you look back, Hindaa is unconscious. You take a few moments to catch your breath, and as you do that, the sounds of the crowd rush back in and you hear a loud, thundering cheer. 

Holding onto your side, every inch of you either sore or bleeding, you look to the stands to see the crowd cheering for you. You're not sure if the adrenaline caused it or if you were delirious, but in that moment, you smiled. You raise one of your hands in triumph and the cheers get louder somehow. You laugh, not sure what it is exactly that you're laughing at.

Suddenly, the Grandmaster’s hologram reappears. “What a show! What a show!” he says, laughing and clapping his hands together. The efforts of the battle begin to weigh on you and you just need to keep standing. “Everyone give it up for our new champion, Y/N the Human!”

You noticed your name didn’t change. “I told you she’d be something to see!”

You look back at the door you came from to see it lifting and you start to walk that way, not much caring for what the Grandmaster has to say. You notice a few workers bring a hovering stretcher for Hindaa. One of them must have noticed your limping, because they come to your side and help take some of the weight off of your leg. You're not sure if you thanked them. All you were looking forward to was a nice, long nap.

You momentarily forgot whose bed it is you'll be sleeping on.

* * * * *

Tag List: @riribaex​ @80strashbag​ @justanothermagicalsara​ @speedy-object-dream​ @blueberry-soda57​ @comehomecomehometous @chaoticsomeone

[spacebaby1]

enemies to lovers with Ran Haitani tenjiku

Where the reader is the typical delegate or group representative who seems to be the description of perfection, excellent grades and an attitude that teachers love but this is only a facade that hides a truly rebellious and disastrous girl. Ran meets her and after totally frustrating her they begin to realize that only they truly know each other for who they really are and not just appearances.

Ohhh, I like this! Enjoy! (DON'T TRY THIS AT HOMR OR ANYWHERE) T.W: controlling parents?

Be perfect...

Be perfect...

Be perfect...

The words that You remind yourself every morning as you'd get ready for the school, eat breakfast, and get to school. As if not just last night your parents were screaming and yelling at you for randomly cutting most if your hair, you mother said that she hated your hair and you father kept yelling about how disappointed he was that you are trying to rebel against his rules. Your mother wasted no time into dragging you to the beauty salon to get long extensions, and you just sat there boiling in anger.

When you got home, your father had made a deal with you, "You follow my rules, you will go to that school tomorrow, and you will be the best of the students, unlike the last school. And if you do that till you graduate, then you can do whatever you want with your life, but till then, you have to be a perfect child of mine."

First day at school; you made sure to look as neat as you can and sat in the front seat. And for the next semester you won every teachers respect; it was a nightmare that you had to pretend to be a nice, soft spoken, and always smiling student when deep down your hands ache to slap some of the boys or pull the other annoying girls hair.

What you did after school was none of your parents' business; as long as they don't find out. With your baseball bat in hand, you walked in the dark alleyway and cigarettes dangling from your lips. You sighed, taking a puff before aiming the bat on the brick wall, and kept pushing your anger out of the wall. The pain of bat bouncing as it hit the wall felt euphoric in your hands, but you didn't stop and kept slamming the bat again and again. "What's the walls crime?"

You turned to find a boy; was a bit taller and had half black and yellow hair. He had a soft, lazy smile on as you tried to make out his features more in the dark. He, on the other hand, wasn't able to fully notice your face because of your hat covering your face, "Mind your own business." Was all you said before walking past him as he just stood there looking at you disappear in the busy streets.

The next day was boring in school as always until you heard your classmate girl tap your shoulder, "someone from the other class is asking for the teachers papers. he's just outside the door." You nodded before gathering the papers and headed towards the door. You gasped slightly when you noticed the boy standing there was the same boy from last night. He turned to look at you and smiled, "Haitani Ran, from class 5. The teacher said, You have the papers?" You thought he probably didn't recognise you, so you nodded and handed him the papers rushing back inside the class. And for the next month you kept running into Ran between classes and breaks, he seemed very sweet and never get angry at any of the students and would just laugh it off If someone said something that should upset him.

One night you were in the living-room when your father came home angry immediately lashing his anger at you and calling you names because you forgot to put your wet umbrella away from the entrance and you being yourself lost your temper lashing at your father which made him raise his hand on you, you fell on the ground holding your lips before yelling curs words at him before storming out of the house, and could still hear your mothers calling for you to stop but you just needed to leave.

You've done everything they had asked you, and yet it was still not enough, which made you wanna piss them off. At this point, you didn't even care if you cased trouble and got caught because you wanted to get caught.

The rain had soaked you fully as you kept throwing punching after punching on the bridge wall because you've made the mistake to not grab your bat and beat those bully's you'll find at the park right now. "Do you punch for a hobby?" You turned to find Ran standing under the umbrella with the same soft smile then you realised that he saw you now, the real you; hair in messed bun, red eyes, dressed not so neat and soaking in the rain. You weren't the perfect student he saw every day at school. "You'll hurt your hand and catch cold -"

"Piss of nerd,"

He laughed, moving closer, "I'm as much of a nerd as you. Must be tiring to pretend to be that neat." You don't know why, but his words made you tear up from where you stood, and he just moved his umbrella over your head, "your hairs soaked." You shook your head, "I fucking hate these extensions!" You yelled ready to pull on them but Ran grabbed your wrist. "You'll yank your head off, want me to take them off? I'm good with hair. See?" He pointed at his long perfect hair which made you laugh. "What do you say, wanna key some cars before we get those extensions off?" You laughed and he joined you. You did exactly that.

[storiesforallfandoms]

happy birthday ~ javi gutierrez;the unbearable weight of massive talent

word count: 2841

request?: no

description: in which she gets her husband the best birthday gift of his life: nic cage

pairing: javi gutierrez x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

It felt almost impossible to come up with a good gift for Javi. What do you get the man who has everything? Literally everything. Javi had more money than most people could ever dream of, and he used that money to buy whatever he wanted. It was infuriating. I could never think of good birthday gifts for him because whatever I could think of, he got it for himself.

There was one gift I could possibly get him that would blow his mind. It was a long shot, but if I could pull it off then I would be giving him the best gift he’d ever receive in his entire life.

“Gabriela, I need your help,” I said to her one morning just after Javi had left with Lucas. “I want to try and get Nic Cage to come make an appearance at Javi’s birthday party.”

Gabriela’s eyes widened. “That’s...a huge deal, (Y/N).”

“I know, and I know it’s a long shot because he’s a big actor who is probably very busy, but I know Javi would lose his mind if we could make this happen. I’ll do whatever it takes. However much money he wants, free accommodations at the mansion, I’ll even try to pay for whatever his passion project is to be made. Anything he wants.” I took Gabriela’s hands in mine. “Please, Gabriela. Javi would love this.”

She thought for a few moments before squeezing my hands. “I’ll look for the contact info for his agent online.”

Turns out, it’s not that hard to find Nic Cage’s agent’s contact info online. Actually, it was the first thing that popped up when we Googled “Nicolas Cage agent contact info”. We wrote his agent a lengthy email, basically begging for Nic Cage to come to Javi’s birthday party. I even threw in an offer of one million dollars just to show up to the party. We hit send, waiting with baited breath for a response.

Of course, I knew we wouldn’t get a response right away. But as the days passed and still nothing, my anxiety began to grow. I was constantly refreshing my email, hoping that a new email would arrive already. I was trying not to be too obvious, but Javi noticed that I was distracted very quickly.

“Is everything alright, mi amor?” he asked me one morning when I checked my phone during breakfast. It was very unlike me to be on my phone at the table, but I wasn’t thinking about anything besides getting a response to this damn email. “You seem...distracted.”

“I’m sorry, honey. It’s just...something I’m planning for your birthday.”

His eyes brightened. “For my birthday, you say? Any hints?”

I smiled and leaned in close to him. “Absolutely not.”

He playfully groaned, but closed the small gap between us to kiss me.

A week had passed by and I started to give up hope. I had let go of the idea when my phone chimed, signaling an incoming email. When I opened it I had to refrain from screaming with joy.

The email read, “Dear Mrs. Gutierrez. Mr. Cage has accepted your offer to appear at your event. Please provide us with the details as well as location and travel details.”

It was hard to contain my excitement around Javi. I didn’t want to give away the surprise, but every time I looked at him I kept thinking about how excited he was going to be when he saw the Nic Cage at his birthday party. It was going to be the hardest secret I ever had to keep.

The time flew by, luckily, and before I knew it, I was on my way to the dock to meet Nicolas Cage. I had assigned one person to pick up Nic in the boat to try and minimize the chances of Javi finding out about the surprise. Besids me, only two people knew: Gabriela and Oscar, one of Javi’s men who I had escort Nic to our home. I watched as the boat came closer and closer. I could see Oscar driving while an unfamiliar figure was slumped in the back of the boat.

Nic fucking Cage.

I tried to keep myself composed as the boat docked and Oscar helped Nic to unload his luggage. He was so tall. He was almost intimidating in person.

“Mr. Cage,” I said. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Yeah, well, it’s hard to pass up a gig that’s offering a million dollars just to show up,” he responded. “What’s the deal with this party, anyways? Because if the couple is expecting me to engage in some form of voyeurism, or something along those lines, they are going to be very disappointed.”

I was taken back by his suggestion. He was looking at me, waiting for a response, while I stood there looking like an idiot with my mouth hanging open.

“N-No,” I finally said. “It’s nothing like that. My husband is a huge fan of your work. I wanted to surprise him with an appearance from you for his birthday. You just have to be there, talk to him, share some stories from the sets of your movies maybe.”

His face went pale. “You...you’re Mrs. Gutierrez?”

“Yes, I am.”

He was left just as speechless as I felt. We looked at each other for a long time, an awkward feeling in the air. Finally, I gestured for him to follow me and Oscar to the car that was waiting to take us back to the house. I got into the front seat as Oscar loaded Nic’s luggage into the trunk as Nic got into the back seat.

The ride was silent for a while. I was still more nervous over the fact that I was in the same car as Nic Cage than I was upset over what Nic had said. But I could tell he was embarrassed. I just wasn’t sure how to put his mind as ease when I was too starstruck to string a sentence together.

“Listen,” he said, finally breaking the awkward silence. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. You have to understand that this was a bizarre request I got to come to a birthday party, for a large sum of money. I had no idea what to expect.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I understand. Honestly, I didn’t even think your agent would respond, so I didn’t plan out your appearance much until you said yes.”

“So, what is the plan?”

“The party isn’t until tomorrow evening, so we have the guest house set up for you to stay in. Gabriela, mine and Javi’s assistant, will come and get you, and usher you to the party without Javi noticing. I have a speech planned, that will be your entrance.”

Nic was nodding along as I spoke. When I finished, he said, “You must really love this Javi to go through so much effort for a birthday gift.”

I smiled. “Well, I married him for a reason.”

~~~~~~

The next night, I was stood in front of one of the full length mirrors in mine and Javi’s room. I had changed into the dress I had found on our bed that afternoon, with a note attached to it that said, “Wear this tonight, mi amor xo”.

Typical of Javi to buy me something to wear on his birthday.

I had to admit, Javi’s taste in dresses was always phenomenal. I had one closet dedicated to all the dresses he has bought me in the past. They had never been wore more than once, but they were too beautiful to let go of. This one was no different. It was a long, off the shoulder, velvet dress in a deep red color. I pulled a pair of champagne colored heels from the closet to wear with it, and a gold necklace Javi had gotten for me won our first anniversary.

Two arms wrapped around my waist as a head of curly brown hair buried itself against my neck.

“You look beautiful, mi amor,” Javi said as he pressed a light kiss on the nape of my neck.

“Thank you,” I said. “Helps that I seem to have a husband with the best fashion sense in the world.”

I turned my head to look up at him. He kissed my lips as I leaned back against him. His hands ran over the soft material of my dress, exploring my body as his tongue ran across my bottom lip.

“What if we ditch the party and stay up here so I can take this dress off of you instead?” he suggested.

I giggled. “Ditch your own birthday party?” He nodded and began kissing my neck again. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

I turned in his arms to look up at him. “Because there are nearly a hundred people down in our courtyard waiting to celebrate you. You can’t just ditch them.”

Javi groaned, burying his head in the crook of my neck. It felt nearly impossible to reject his offer when he was kissing me in the right spot, touching me in the right spots, and in general just looked so fucking handsome. I just wanted to let him take the dress off of me and do whatever he wanted to me.

But my mind drifted back to the special guest I had waiting to make an appearance, and that was enough for me to push Javi away.

“We can’t miss your party,” I told him. “Besides, I have an amazing present for you.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “One that requires us going to the party?” I nodded. “Well, now you’ve managed to convince me.”

I kissed his nose and took his hands in mine, pulling him out of our room and to the party that was kicking off down below.

We were met with cheers and a chorus of “Happy Birthday!”s. Lucas passed both of us a glass of champagne and made a quick toast in Javi’s honor. There was more cheering. I looked up to see Javi was positively glowing with happiness. I smiled at him, knowing that his gift was going to up this happiness even more.

I let Javi socialize for nearly an hour. Actually, it was hard to get him away from someone once he had started talking, but I figured it was his party so he deserved to talk to whoever he wanted for however long he wanted. But, the more time ticked on, the more anxious I grew. I didn’t want to interrupt his conversation, but I didn’t want to leave Nic waiting too long to make his entrance.

Luckily, Gabriela was the one to finally draw everyone’s attention as she got on stage and tapped a fork against her champagne glass. The crowd went silent and turned towards her.

“Ladies and gentlemen, before we continue with the festivities tonight, there was someone who wanted to say a few words in honor of the birthday boy,” she said. “Everybody, please give it up for (Y/N) Gutierrez.”

The crowd cheered as I made my way towards the stage. I put my arms out to Gabriela to pull her into a hug, and she whispered in my ear, “He’s ready.”

I mouthed “Thank you” to her as we pulled away before turning to the crowd of people who were looking at me.

“Hello everyone,” I started. “I don’t usually make a spectacle like this at Javi’s birthdays, but this year is different. For one, I believe that a man as incredible as Javi deserves the spectacle of his wife giving a super sappy speech about how much she loves him and how amazing he is. He deserves it, but that’s not the speech you’re getting tonight, so don’t hold your breath.” The audience chuckled. “Although, I will say that Javi is one of the most kindhearted men I have ever known. Getting to share my life with him has been the greatest privilege for me.”

I met Javi’s eyes in the crowd. He was smiling, admiration showing on his face. When I first started dating Javi, Lucas would say that Javi looked at me the way Disney princes looked at their princesses. I used to laugh it off, until I actually noticed it one day. I think that was the moment I knew Javi was in love with me, and the moment I realized I was in love with him, too.

“And all of that brings me to the second reason I decided to make a speech tonight,” I continued. “Because Javi is such an amazing person, I often try to give him the best gifts I can think of. That’s not exactly easy when you’re husband is richer than God and tends to like buying things for himself. But, tonight, I think I have finally figured out what the best gift in the world for Javi would be. And it’s definitely something I knew he has never tried to purchase for himself.”

I looked behind me. Nic was stood far enough away from the stage that no one would notice him unless they were actually looking, but close enough that he could hear me talking and knew when he would come in. He met my eyes and gave me a thumbs up. I smiled back at him before turning back to the awaiting crowd.

“Javi, here is my gift for you.” I made a grand gesture with my arms and said, “Nicolas Cage!”

A collective gasp floated through the crowd as Nic stepped up onto the stage. I looked back at Javi to see that his eyes were so wide they were nearly popping out of his head. He was paralyzed in place. I wasn’t even sure if he was breathing. I stepped off the stage and extended a hand to him.

“Come meet your hero,” I said.

“You got Nicolas Cage?” he questioned, his voice so quiet I almost couldn’t hear him. “You got the actual Nicolas Cage to come to my birthday party? This is what you’ve been planning for all this time?”

“I said I wanted to get you the best gift ever,” I reminded him. “Happy birthday, my love.”

He was finally spurred into movement. He took my hand and let me lead him towards the stage, where his hero was stood waiting. Nic smiled and extended a hand to Javi. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Javi. Your wife told me all about you.”

Javi shook his hand, but didn’t speak. I lightly nudged him, which snapped him out of his starstruck trance and got him to start talking.

The rest of the night was spent with basically everyone wanting to talk to Nic. Eventually, Javi was able to pull himself away so that Nic could speak to the crowd about whatever they wanted to hear. Javi found his way back to my side and pulled me close to him. I leaned into his embrace, watching his child-like wonder towards the man he had loved and admired for so long. I knew this whole thing was a success, and that’s all that mattered to me.

The night finally came to an end as the crowd, still also starstruck by the sudden appearance of a celebrity, reluctantly began to leave. Javi offered Nic one of the spare rooms in our mansions and called for one of his men to collect Nic’s things to bring up. I thanked the actor again for coming before leaving the two men so I could get ready for bed. As much as I loved seeing Javi’s happiness, the heels were starting to hurt my feet and I was started to grow tired.

I didn’t expect to see Javi before I fell asleep, so when he came into our room just as I was getting into bed, I was a little shocked.

“You mujer hermosa,” he said, crossing the room to stand next to me. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“Was it the best gift ever?” I asked.

“Better than the best gift ever. I don’t know how anyone will ever top what you gave me tonight,” he said.

I beamed with pride. “Well, that’s all that matters to me then. I’ve finally figured out something to give you that you haven’t gotten for yourself yet.”

He cupped my face in his hands and pulled me in for a kiss. It was sweet and passionate, and his hands found their way to the small of my back to pull me as close against him as I could. I started to giggle against his lips as he backed us up towards the bed, then we both toppled over onto the soft mattress.

“I love you so much,” he said. “I’m the luckiest man in the world to have such an incredible wife.”

“I love you, too,” I said. “And you are very lucky to have me.”

He chuckled and kissed me again so feverishly that I completely forgot about being tired.

[onthinice-k]

Little Do You Know - F. Andersen

It’s finally done! This fic was written for the Winter Fic Exchange 2k24 hosted by @wyattjohnston and is for @mp0625. It was a nice challenge to write a reader insert for the first time, I had a lot of fun creating this story and I hope you enjoy readiit just as much!

Also, everyone be warned, I didn’t look at a single calendar or any actual game scores. I just did what felt right and hoped for the best. Also, don’t think too closely about the reader’s job. I have no idea how it actually works, I just put a lot of imagination and confidence into writing it. There also is a guest appearance of Seth Jarvis.

Summary: Suddenly working for the Carolina Hurricanes wasn't how you'd thought your year would end. Everything that followed was just as surprising.

Pairing: Frederik Andersen x f!reader (no mentions of y/n)

Words: 11.9k (I’m sorry, this was planned to be like 3k words at most?? I have no idea what happend)

Warnings: a few swear words? Reader is described as shorter than Freddy, otherwise no physical descriptions. It might sound just a little angsty at the beginning, but it's really not; mostly fluff and maybe some light hurt/comfort

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Jane's grin should have been enough to make you suspicious.

It was one evening, after another long shift at work and overtime that you would probably never see the pay for.

Even without looking at her, you knew the look Jane would give you. One of those pitying ones that made you a little more defensive than you should’ve been - a constant reminder that perhaps the year hadn't exactly been perfect.

But that didn't automatically mean Jane was right. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, you had once tried to tell her once. You were happy. No, really.

Sure, the breakup at the beginning of the year had been long and accompanied by a lot of shouting and tears. At the beginning you had been so sure that he was the one - only to be disappointed once again a few months later. But you could always use that as a learning experience, couldn’t you? Jane didn't know what she was talking about when she’d said that you seemed lonely sometimes. Better alone than with the wrong person, right?

And sure, the water damage to the apartment wasn't ideal either. But at least the only thing that couldn’t be saved was the kitchen. Everything else just needed time to dry and, well, maybe a new coat of paint. Two weeks later you had managed to find a new place to move into with your best friend, Jane.

Maybe she wasn’t entirely wrong about your job being more than miserable. Seemingly endless overtime and the salary just enough to make ends meet.

Maybe Jane had a point, even though you hated to admit it.

You weren't unhappy per se. But maybe, just maybe, there was still room for improvement.

And now it was December.

Jane had gotten a telltale glint in her eyes when you both realized that. Less than four weeks left to end the year on a good note.  Or maybe you should just wait for the next one and hope it’ll get better. So, with a shrug of your shoulders, you'd put the thought aside for the moment.

Her grin should’ve made you suspicious. But instead, it was already forgotten by the next morning.

–   

"Jane!" Your voice was far too loud considering she was sitting barely a meter away.

"Hm?" Jane looked up from her book, confused, maybe a little worried. You weren’t paying enough attention right not to get a good read on her expression.

You couldn't believe your eyes. Even after reading the text for the third time, you wanted to pinch yourself. Hard. This had to be a strange dream.

The words blinking up at you from the screen seemed unbelievable.

"Did you- Did you submit my application with- to the- the Carolina Hurricanes?!"

Jane seemed to process your words in her head. Then understanding began to spread across her face.

Your mouth kept opening and closing, but no words came out. You didn't even know what you would have, should’ve, said. What was a normal response in this situation?

Jane straightened up a little and leaned toward you. She was looking over your shoulder at the laptop.

"Oh, they were faster than I expected."

"How... What..."

Sure, you'd complained to her just the other day that the youth team you'd applied to had suddenly realized they didn't have the budget for a full-time position after all. The interview at the equipment store on the other side of town left a lot to be desired after their first question was how much overtime you could put in per month.

But this? You’d never have expected that.

"Are you crazy?" Your voice was still unexpectedly shrill.

“It’s not a rejection letter”, she sounded a little too proud for your liking.

You squinted your eyes at her.

“Then I would’ve killed you. After burying myself out of embarrassment.”

"Oh, come on. You have to admit, it sounds perfect for you," Jane simply shrugged her shoulders. Leaning back again, she looked a lot calmer than you felt.

Nevertheless, you did have to admit that it sounded almost perfect. Often you had helped out with the equipment in small teams in the past and had always enjoyed the work. It was close to the action without being in the foreground.

But still.

"I can't believe you." You slumped back against the couch and ran your fingers through your hair. "This is crazy. You’re crazy..."

Jane sighed. "Hey, if you're not interested, don't answer." Then she turned back to her book.

She made it sound so easy.

"I didn't say that!" you defended yourself immediately.

Jane snorted, then at least a brief twitch of the corner of her mouth.

–  

Your hands were shaking as you pushed open the nondescript door. It had all happened so fast.

Someone had called you the very next morning.

It was all so unbelievable that you could barely remember the phone call.

 "It's a temporary position, but it needs to be filled quickly," the man on the phone had said, that much you could recall - immediately followed by the question of when you could start.

Apparently, someone had gotten sick after they were already understaffed and so they urgently needed someone to fill in.

Your experience at the small hockey center in your hometown had probably paid off after all. While growing up you had helped the coach, who trained the children’s hobby group, with the equipment.

In return, he always gave you old skates and sticks that were once forgotten by someone and never got picked up so you could try them out during your own team’s training.

Maybe they also decided on you because they just didn’t have many applicants with previous experience of any level available at such short notice. But who knew. And really, you didn’t really care either way.

Especially as just a few hours after the call you were now following hurriedly written down directions through the corridors of the arena that you had previously only seen as a visitor. 

Anthony, whose first words had been "Call me Tony", had been awaiting you already. His tour of the most important rooms was not only packed with way too much information but also constantly interrupted by other people’s questions and demands.

Nevertheless, Tony remained friendly and patient with them as well as you, even when you had forgotten which direction you had come from for the third time in a row. Once or twice, he might even have stifled an amused grin.

"Let me just show you the storage rooms and then..."

"Anthony," an older man interrupted from the side. He had his arms crossed over his chest and a grim expression on his face.

An official-looking ID was hanging around his neck.

Tony grimaced at the use of his full name.

"What is it now?" he asked, barely able to hide his annoyed voice under a wavering polite smile. It was the first time you'd seen Tony anything other than friendly today. It was almost weird.

The man didn't really look at Tony, but rather past him, even though the words were clearly directed at Tony. "The sticks are all mixed up." The accusatory tone in his voice was clear, as if Tony had personally caused the mess.

"We don't know what belongs to whom."

Tony sighed. "Of course, you don't", he muttered so quietly that only you could hear the words. However, the other man would have been able to see the hint of an eye roll hadn’t he turned away again, apparently to grumble at the next person.

"Don't let Mike intimidate you," Tony explained, turning back to you, "in case he ever snaps at you. He likes to feel more important than he is." He rolled his eyes with a wry grin.

Someone hesitantly tapped Tony’s shoulder. This time a young man, who looked like he'd just graduated high school.

"Sorry, I know you're busy - I don't mean to interrupt - but, uh, a strap on a goalie pad broke."

Anthony ran a hand over his forehead. "Another one? Shit."  He exhaled noisily. "That's the third one in two days. It has to be a production error. Has the manufacturer responded to the complaint yet?"

The boy's eyes widened, and he shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

Mike called impatiently for Anthony from the next room. Torn, he turned briefly at the voice, then looked back at the boy next to him. "They probably need the goalies for training right now?"

The boy nodded shyly: "They said it was urgent."

Anthony sighed again.

Then he looked at you with a wry grin: "Looks like you'll get something to do sooner than expected."

He got handed a paper from someone walking past him. While searching for something on it he continued talking.

"We only have a few pads left in stock. The new order hasn't arrived yet and we need the ones we still have for the game tonight. Do you know how to sew?" He looked up.

"A little?" Your grandparents had taught you a long time ago, but it wasn't something you had to do regularly in your daily life.

"Great, that should be enough for now. It doesn't have to be pretty, as long as it does the job."

Anthony patted you on the back approvingly. Then he left you standing alone in the hallway, his exit accompanied by another long "Anthony" yell.

You were left standing there. Uncertainly you looked at the young man next to you.

He shrugged his shoulders just as unsure. He murmured quietly: "In that room over there." With a finger, he pointed at a door.

Well, then you should probably get to work. 'That room over there' really wasn't hard to find. It was only a few meters away.

What you didn't expect, however, was to almost walk into a huge man as soon as you entered the room. You always knew that hockey players tended to be quite tall, but it still took you by surprise.

You had to tilt your head back to look the man in the face. Of course, having lived here long enough you knew all the players on the team, at least by name. You weren't some crazy fan but at least invested enough to watch the games whenever you had the time. For your last birthday you had even gotten tickets to watch one live in the arena. It had been great.

Now you were faced with a certain goalie. Stubborn ginger strands fell into his face, his cheeks slightly flushed from training or the cold. Television did not do him justice at all.

Stay professional, you had to order yourself. This was your job. You couldn't mess it up, especially not on the first day.

Frederik looked up. He ran his eyes over your form for a moment. Then he tilted his head. "You're not Tony," his voice sounded unexpectedly soft.

"Oh, uh, no. I'm new here. First day today." Wow, very smooth. Good job.

If Freddie thought the same, he didn't let on. Quite the opposite. He openly watched you, his mouth twisted into a crooked grin. "Well, in that case. Welcome."

You mumbled a "Thank you."

A brief silence filled the room. While you reminded yourself to get yourself under control, you could still feel his appraising gaze on you - not hostile, just curious.

"How do you like it so far?" You could see little lines forming around his eyes as he smiled at you.

"I mean, a map would be helpful. All these corridors are like a labyrinth," you tried to joke.

Freddie laughed. "Oh yeah. You don't want to know how many times I got lost in here at first."

Maybe he was just saying that to make you feel better. However, you decide not to question it and just let the words calm you down a little.

"Are you almost done?" a woman poked her head into the room. Her stern features were emphasized by her narrow glasses. She reminded you of a strict principal scowling at running students.

You were almost certain you'd seen her in the corridors earlier today. Maybe Tony had told you her name and position, but if so, you'd already forgotten again. For the first dozen names you had made an honest effort to memorize them. The numerous ones following after that were buried in the sea of information that had poured in on you in a very short space of time.

"Oh yes, almost done," you grinned at the woman as convincingly as possible.

With a skeptical look, she let her eyes wander back and forth between Freddie, you and finally the pad, still hanging down loosely on his leg.

"Hurry up”, she ordered. You nodded dutifully.

When she had disappeared again, you breathed a sigh of relief. Her eyes had literally bored right through you and left you feeling a little uncomfortable. Freddie had squirmed under her eyes just as much.

You didn’t want to risk her turning up here again.

"I think I'll go and get some stuff. To fix that."

Freddie nodded patiently.

Huh.

Well. There was just one problem.

"You wouldn't happen to know where they store needles around here, would you?"

Again, the corners of his mouth pulled to the side in amusement. "Aren't you the one working here?" He was obviously just teasing you, but your cheeks immediately felt a little warmer, nevertheless.

"Right."

In the end, Freddie did help by searching through the drawers in the small cupboard behind him while you examined the rest of the room.

Once needle and thread were found, the work was done quickly. The strap was tight again. It should hold on for the next few hours at least. The stern-looking woman had walked past the room a few more times – more than necessary in your opinion – as you had noticed out of the corner of your eye. However, she had not re-entered the room.

Freddie and you had had some simple conversations on the side so the work had gone by quickly. He had asked your name and where you came from.

All in all, your first job could have gone a lot worse. You were almost a little proud of yourself.

Maybe this was all quite doable after all.

-

It was terrible.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd walked so much, feeling your feet ache with every more step you took. By the time just half of your shift had been over, your legs were already heavy.

Once the game had started, the processes seemed a lot more structured.

The rather hectic running around of the afternoon was replaced by a lot of counting and carrying things from one place to another.

With all the work, you almost missed the end of the game completely.

However, the disappointment was hard to miss. It put deep creases in everyone’s faces; reflected in the way shoulders slumped and voices were muffled.

Losing again after a long winning streak probably always hit everyone hard.

Tony and you got handed the equipment to be washed and dried.

At least one thing hadn't changed though. All sorts of people still wanted something from Tony. He had mumbled to you "I'll be back in a moment", only to definitely not come back after a moment.

Afraid of getting lost for good, you decided to wait here for him anyway.  

Everyone around you seemed to have clear tasks that they were silently following. It was almost strange to see the corridors so quiet, in contrast to a few hours earlier.

No matter where you stood, you had the feeling that you were interfering with the routines of other workers and so you gradually ended up further and further to the end of the narrow hallway. Not knowing exactly where you were was nothing new today. However, this time you were pretty sure this corner hadn’t been in Tony’s tour. 

One by one, players came around a corner. They walked past you individually or in small groups. Very few of them probably really noticed you. Their mood was also noticeably subdued.

You weren't entirely sure whether you were happy to see Freddie again as he slowly stepped around the corner, or whether you would’ve preferred not to see the disappointed look on his face.

You gave him what you hoped was an encouraging smile.

For a brief moment, the corners of his mouth lifted, a hint of a crooked grin as he had almost passed you, but as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished again.

He exhaled forcefully. The heaviness in his eyes returned.

With a long breath, you watched his slowly shrinking figure.

No longer could you stand being in the hallway. You had seen enough disappointed faces for one day. A door caught your eye. It was held open by a chair jammed into the doorway. The cool light falling through the opening was brighter than the ceiling lights.

You dared to take one last look over your shoulder, Freddie had already disappeared from your view. And there was still no sign of Tony. So, you crossed the corridor with slow steps.

The door led directly to the spectator stands. It had apparently been opened after everyone had left the arena.

You let yourself fall against the door frame.

After a quick glance over the seating area, your gaze fell onto the ice surface. Your heart ached in your chest. Before, you hadn't realized how much you missed being on the ice yourself - or you had successfully pushed it to the back of your mind. Only now, when you were so close to it, did the longing come back to you in full force.

"Do you have skates?" The voice so close to your ear made you jump. Lost deep in thought you hadn’t noticed when Tony had appeared next to you.

"What?"

"Do you have skates," he repeated more slowly, "I have to be honest. I'd be a bit disappointed if I had to find out like this that you don't own any." He flashed an amused grin at you.

You frowned. "Yes, of course. I mean, I have relatives in Canada. They'd probably disown me if I didn't."

"Then what's stopping you from taking a few laps on the ice?"

He shrugged as if it were that simple. It couldn't be that simple.

"What? But no, I can't do that..." You found it difficult to find the right words. You didn't even know what you were trying to say yourself.

"The way you look at the ice longingly, it'll melt away otherwise," Tony teased.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "No, but really. Is that allowed?"

"Yep," Tony pointed over his shoulder. "Back there on the list are the times when the ice is free. As long as you don't mind the ice not being fresh, of course."

You could hardly believe what Tony was telling you. There was actually a possibility that you could skate on the ice? It’d been so long since you had skates on your feet. It’s been even longer since you’d last held a hockey stick.

When you thought about what it would be like to practice again after so long, a yearning overcame you.

"Nobody else usually uses it on Mondays and Wednesdays." Tony gave you a significant look.

-

The ice had obviously been heavily used. It couldn't have bothered you less.

The first step on the ice was shakier than you expected. And it still felt so relieving. Like rediscovering one of your favorite childhood sweets years later. Or finding change in your pockets that you’d already forgotten about.

Your face beamed with joy, becoming more relaxed with every step. After two laps around the arena, it felt as familiar as before. Your chest rose and fell at a fast pace.

Even after another ten minutes, you were still alone on the ice. When Tony had said no one else usually used the free ice time on Mondays, he hadn't been exaggerating.

You were still a little unsure before, but now you took the stick you had brought with you and a few pucks that were still in a bucket on the side from the last training session.

The last time you’d played hockey was even longer ago than the last time you’d skated. So, it wasn't surprising that you missed the net a lot the first few tries. The times you did hit the goal, however, felt all the better.

The skillful shots from your youth, when you still had time to go to training regularly, no longer worked nearly as well. In the past, you could’ve done them blindfolded.

Adult responsibilities however got in the way at some point, so you were glad that you were still able to attend a hobby group at least once a month until last year. And it paid off. After a short time, the stick no longer felt so strange in your hand. Maybe Hockey was a bit like riding a bike. You would never quite forget how to do it.

You almost missed the other person coming onto the ice.

Even without his number on his back, you could’ve identified him without a doubt. To be fair, there probably weren't that many people walking around in professional goalie gear. Especially those with access to the ice and a Canes logo on their chest.

Without a doubt: Frederik Andersen had just stepped onto the ice. The exact ice you were standing on.

Uncertain you looked back and forth between the exit and him. You were sure you hadn't misread the time on the list. The clock on the wall also told you that you hadn't just been here much longer than you thought.

Still, should you leave the ice? If he was here, he probably wanted to practice. You'd just get in the way.

After the game on your first day on the job, the Canes lost two more games. And as always happens, critical voices immediately got loud on the internet. Even if you hadn't looked any further, you could imagine what they said about Freddie – hopefully, he followed the media team's advice not to read any of it.

Freddie looked at you for a moment. Then he crossed the ice. However, instead of heading for the other half of the ice as you’d have expected, his path led straight into the net on your side.

Fascinated, you watched as he stretched and moved in quick order. Finally, he straightened up again, leaned forward and tapped the ice several times with his stick.

You looked at him in confusion. But when he then flicked a puck across the rink towards you with his stick, it was a more than clear invitation.

In this moment you were so glad to have had some time to warm up before he arrived.

Your first shots at the net were careful. And apparently, they were way too predictable and easy for Freddie, as he blocked each of them with ease. He didn't even look strained in the slightest.

You took it as a challenge.

The next shots were more confident. You even started to skate a few steps towards the net on each of them, instead of standing rigidly in the middle of the ice.

However, after a lost puck on the way to the net elicited a playfully disappointed shake of the head from Freddie, you made it your mission to mix in a particularly bad shot every few tries. Freddie’s reaction made it more than worth it.

If you looked very closely, you imagined you could even see the smirk under his mask every time.

In the end, you didn't know how long you’d played for.

When Freddie pushed his mask up, a few strands of hair were sticking to his forehead. His features were more relaxed than any of the last times you'd seen him here. It looked good on him.

As you went your separate ways again, he gently nudged you with his shoulder. The smile lingered on your lips for a long time.

– 

"Do you think the small suitcase will be enough for three days?"

Jane looked at you over her shoulder. "Are you going on a trip? Without me?" She clutched her chest dramatically.

"There are a few away games coming up. And I'm supposed to come with them”, you explained. Your nerves must be written all over your face.

"Not that I think I'm really going to be that much help.", you added.

You had only just started to feel like you were slowly getting used to the work in the arena. By now, you could count on one hand how many times you got lost in the seemingly never-ending hallways of the arena in a shift. Even all the tasks no longer appeared as overwhelming as they did at the beginning.

Still, it had taken you days to even come close to finding your way around the arena. Even now, you kept discovering new rooms that you had never seen before.

Now, arriving in a completely foreign arena? You'd never seen how away games were run behind the scenes. And now you were supposed to help out yourself. Over the last days carefully established routines to make work easier would have to be broken again.

"Oh yeah, I totally forgot that you're super important now," she teased.

As if. "Hardly. More like the assistant to the assistant."

As you turned back to your bedroom, Jane called after you: "I’m sure it won't be as bad as you think."

Packing took longer than expected. This was probably partly due to the fact that you kept placing stuff in your suitcase just to take it out again minutes later. Should you pack a fifth sweater after all? Would one spare pair of pants be enough or maybe take the black ones with you as well?

By the time you had loaded your bags into your car, you were on the verge of being late. Enough time for you to arrive on time, not enough to get stuck in traffic or spend ages looking for a parking space.

However, you didn’t even get that far.

Your car made a tired stuttering noise before it fell silent again. The same sound was heard on the second attempt. By the third turn of the key, your fingers were already getting clammy.

"Damn it. That can't be true now." Try again. This time the engine only made a muffled scraping sound.  "No, no, no!"

You dropped your head against the steering wheel. Frustration rose up inside you.

Another sharp turn. Your hand clutched the armrest. You preferred not to look too closely at the speed limit. Jane ignored your pointed glances toward her anyway - and today, at least, you were almost glad of her habit of speeding.

The bags on the back seat were a heavy reminder in the corner of your eye.

You almost felt like you were back in your teenage years, being driven around by your parents and older friends. Then the airport finally came into view.

Jane parked and let you out. A car honked behind you. Quickly you thanked her and got out of the car.

You didn't know how, but you were still on time.

–    

After the flight, it was a blessing to arrive at the hotel room.

The room was small, had a strange orange wall color and a dubious stain on the floor that you strictly avoided stepping on. But at least you had the room to yourself. Reason enough to breathe a sigh of relief.  

In the evening, you fell into bed early, exhausted from the day. Sending a photo of your room to Jane would have to wait until tomorrow.

The next morning, you were awake long before your alarm clock. You didn't know who exactly was in the room next to you, but whoever it was had started snoring loudly at some point.

Even after a while, you couldn't fall back asleep. You were slow to pull yourself out of the warmth of your bed, but happy to escape the constant noise. So, you got ready for the day.

When you arrived in the breakfast room with a sectioned-off area for the team and players, the buffet had only just been opened. Apart from you, there was only one other person here so far, who ignored you as politely as you ignored them.

Most people would probably eat later. The game wasn't until late afternoon, so there was no rush to prepare, and morning skate wasn't scheduled for a few hours, as you’d heard.

With a full plate, you sat down at one of the many empty tables. While you ate, you checked your messages.

Jane had texted you last night to tell you that she’d taken your car to the mechanic. Already, they had sent you an email with a list of what needed to be repaired. Your hope that it would only be just a minor repair instantly vanished as you saw the length of the list.

You gulped a second time at the amount at the bottom of the mail.

Shit. That would easily consume an entire month's salary. You dropped your forehead to your hands.

"Does breakfast in general make you unhappy or is it this one in particular?" The chair next to you was pulled back. A certain ginger goalie fell into the seat.

You couldn't suppress a faint snort.

"I wouldn't count my car as breakfast," you tried to joke. Just the thought of your car made you grimace again.

"Oh," his brow furrowed gently. "That doesn't sound good?"

"Yeah. I mean, it has made a weird noise for a while now, should’ve known something like this would happen eventually. I just hoped to have a little more time before having to get it repaired."

Groaning you let your head fall into your hands again. Freddie shook his head, an amused glint in his eyes.

Then he seemed to have another thought.

“Wait, so how did you get to the airport?”

“Oh, I had someone drive me.” You turned your head to look at him.

“Boyfriend?" Maybe it was just hopeful wishing, the way Freddie's eyebrows drew down a touch further. “I mean, not that it’s any of my business.”

"My roommate, Jane." After short consideration, you also added: “Don’t think my ex would’ve even bothered to drive me.” You couldn't see Freddie’s face at that moment as your eyes were drawn to a new incoming message. Just Jane complaining about the weather.

“That sounds like there’s a story.”

You snorted. “Not a good one.”

Freddie seemed to get the drift. He did however furrow his brows slightly and asked slowly: "Wait, how are you getting home then?"

You could almost have sworn that Freddie was sitting closer than at the beginning.

To be honest, you hadn't really thought about it yourself. "Probably an Uber or...?" you mumbled but didn't finish the thought.

Someone from the marketing team - Angela? Angelica? Angeline? - sat down on a chair opposite you.

The conversation was paused for now. Instead, the blonde woman chattered away happily as you just nodded at the appropriate times.

You hadn't noticed when the room had started to become so crowded.

–  

When they’d said: "I have an exciting task for you today", you hadn't thought that cleaning helmets would be a big part of it.

Being allowed to take on more tasks on your own was wonderful. And you were grateful.

There were various parts on a few of the helmets that needed to be replaced or checked. By itself a nice and relaxing work. However, having to polish helmets had always been very low on your list of favorite activities. And today you had to clean every single one after the repairs.

One by one, some players arrived to collect their helmets for training themselves. Others were picked up and taken away by staff on their way past. By the time the last helmet was shiningly clean, there were only three left on the table next to you, waiting to be picked up.

And, well, one of them was a beautifully painted goalie mask of a very specific goalie.

Another player came to collect his helmet. You immediately suppressed the disappointment that welled up in your stomach when you realized who was coming through the door. Or rather, the disappointment at who it wasn't.

He was friendly, exchanged a few brief words with you and finally thanked you before disappearing again.

And then, Freddie came into the room. You almost missed it over your struggle of trying to get a new rag from the top shelf.

“Let me help you”, the deep voice from behind surprised you.  

He probably could’ve stepped around you and still reached the pile of rags easily enough. However, Freddie appeared behind you, not quite touching you, but close enough that you could feel the heat coming from his body.

Even after grabbing the desired item, he didn’t step back a whole lot, stayed close. If you would’ve wanted to you could’ve taken a step to the side. There was more than enough space and even if there wasn’t you knew Freddie would’ve moved immediately and apologized if you’d asked. But you didn’t.

You stayed exactly where you were.

The air between you felt almost charged. You wanted to see what Freddie’d do. You didn’t get the chance to.

The moment was over as quickly as it had come when the door was pushed open. You both jumped.

Until now you’d only seen Seth Jarvis occasionally from a distance in the hallways. Apart from that, you haven't had much to do with him yet.

The first thing you noticed about him today was that he was already holding his helmet in his hands. It was hanging over two fingers as if he had forgotten he even had it. You dimly remembered giving it to one of the employees not long ago.

You looked down at him once with furrowed brows. The rest of his equipment looked complete too and in working order.

Freddie huffed.

Seth's gaze flitted back and forth between him and you. A far too pleased grin began to grow on his face.

For a few seconds, his gaze stayed wandering between you two.

Finally, you broke the silence when it didn’t seem as if he intended to say anything.

"Is there… A problem with your helmet?"

Seth blinked at you. Then he followed your gaze down to his hands.

He shook his head, almost confused by your question. "No, everything's fine."

Okay? Then he probably hadn’t returned for that.

"Then... Anything else I can help you with?" you continued to ask.

He looked down at himself once more and seemed to think for a moment. Freddie started to speak, a meaningful glint in his eyes: "I'm sure it isn't-"

Somehow that just made Seth’s mischievous grin reappear.

He interrupted Freddie: "Hm, I don't know," he thought slowly, "My shin pad has been kind of weird these last few days and…"

Freddie scowled at him. But Seth didn't let it bother him at all. On the contrary, his grin widened a little more.

Amusement flashed in his eyes. There seemed to be some kind of silent communication between the two.

Finally, Seth concluded: "But it's not really that bad.”

So, you were back to square one.

"Then, anything else I can help you with?"

Seth’s answer came too quickly: "I guess I forgot why I came here. Can’t have been that important."

Turning around, however, took him longer than it should have, and you were pretty sure he did it on purpose. At the door, he threw another grinning look back.

Finally, you two were alone again.

You continued blinking at the door. What was that?

"I should probably see what he's up to," Freddie sighed but offered no other explanation. Nevertheless, he made no effort to leave.

Instead, almost absentmindedly he traced an invisible line in the table.

It took you a moment to notice - he lingered.

You didn't know what to do with the realization. Staring at Freddie the whole time only made you feel stranger. Whatever this conversation just was already left you almost dazed, so you picked up the last remaining helmet beside Freddie’s mask again.

You already knew it was spotless. Not for nothing had you spent so much time cleaning it earlier.

Just to have something to do, you picked up another cloth and set to work again.

Freddie watched you silently. There was something comfortable, almost familiar about sharing the silence.

When the last helmet was finally picked up by another employee, it was the signal for Freddie to leave.

You handed him his mask as well. Your fingers touched too long to be just a coincidence. It made your heart beat loudly in your chest.

For a moment you hesitated. Then you raised an arm briefly to his shoulder and gave him a quick squeeze. "Good luck!"

Before you had a chance to regret your decision, you went back to your work.

–   

The high spirits of some of the players you spotted hours later in the hallways told you how the game had turned out, even though you’d been too busy to watch.

You didn't think Freddie would send you more than a quick smile as he walked down the corridor. Two others caught up with him. One of them, easily recognized as Seth Jarvis, and one of the rookies. Seth said something to Freddie, then pushed him to the side straight at you, laughing with one hand behind his back.

With a slight color in his cheeks, no doubt still from the game, he took a few steps towards you. Smiling, he raised an arm. He waited a moment, as if offering you a way out. Instead, you gladly took a small step in his direction.

His arm wrapped around your shoulders. You were pressed firmly against Freddie, who murmured a quiet thank you against your hair. Then, he let go of you all too quickly.

What exactly he was thanking you for you didn’t know. You also didn’t get the chance to ask.

As they passed you, the other two players behind Freddie greeted you cheerfully. You didn't even know other players knew your name. Seth looked almost as amused as earlier today.

– 

By the last day of the road trip, you could no longer stand being in your room. Something about the specific shade of the wall color made your skin itch if you looked at it for too long.

It was unexpected how much you missed home. Even after just those few days in hotel rooms.

Maybe it was having to live out of a suitcase because it wasn't worth putting your things in the closet when you might be traveling to the next city that same night or the next morning. Or maybe it was the way you were constantly surrounded by the general working atmosphere.

You couldn't put your finger on it. What you could say, however, was that you couldn't wait to get home. 

Just one last game.

After dinner, you couldn't bring yourself to go back to your room. Instead, you explored the common room reserved for the team and staff.

Through the window, you could see some players playing with a ball in the backyard below. At a table in the corner, various people were playing a card game you had never heard of.

In a quiet area, you settled down with a book.

Everything was ideal for reading. It was quiet enough; the sofa was comfortable and you were wearing one of your coziest sweaters.

Still, you couldn’t concentrate on your book. Your thoughts wouldn’t calm down, leaving you feeling restless. Every few minutes you shifted in your seat.

You would have liked to fast-forward the day so that it would finally be evening, and you could go home. If it was up to you, you would have already been on a plane.

Every time someone walked past or entered the room, you unconsciously raised your eyes. And every time, you were annoyed that you had lost the line in your book again. Not that you could remember much of the story anyway. Your attention wasn't quite there.

However, it also meant you noticed when Freddie entered the room.

He stopped several times to talk to people. When he was only a few steps away from the sofas, he looked back and forth between them.

Before you could think about it too long, you slid a little to the side, as if an invitation. There was more than enough space next to you for him to sit down without you touching. However, you left the final decision to him.

You didn't have to wait long. Freddie plopped down on the couch - just a touch closer than usual, but still far enough away that you almost questioned if you were just imagining it. Not that you were complaining.

He opened the book he'd been holding under his arm.

Not exactly subtle, he kept watching you out of the corner of his eye. As soon as you lifted your head, however, he immediately averted his gaze.

Actually, you didn't want to ask. You weren't sure you wanted to hear the answer. What if it was a problem just you had. But still.

After another moment of thought you blurted: "Do you ever get tired of away games?"

"Huh?" He looked up, apparently not having anticipated such a question.

Well, there was no turning back now anyway.

"Like, traveling around all the time, being away from home so much?" you tried to explain.

His answer came easily. "Oh, absolutely. I used to hate it so much. Now it’s not as bad anymore. I mean, some days I would still be rather at but, ehn." He shrugged his shoulders.  

Only after a moment did you ask further, having the feeling he wasn't going to add anything more.

"Used to? What changed?"

"Mainly the team. Getting to know the people you spend the days with has been incredibly helpful. It feels less like a business trip and more like… Like a school trip when you were younger." For a moment he got a far-away look in his eyes as if lost in thought.

Your gaze glided across the room. ‘Business trip’ summed up pretty well how it felt to you. Even though you've had superficial conversations with a lot of people, you probably didn't know any of them nearly well enough to put them anywhere near the friends category.

But of course, you’d also noticed how many of the others were always planning activities in groups or just talking and joking over the meals.

You exhaled briefly.

Freddie watched you for a moment. He tilted his head, then continued slowly. His words seemed measured: “You know, the first road trip after my trade here was particularly hard."

You hadn't even thought about that. Your stomach tightened at the thought of how Freddie must have felt.

"Of course, at most everything is the same, but it still feels so- so unfamiliar. You don't know who's sitting next to whom on the plane. You don't know who's a good roommate and who might snore loudly or leave their things everywhere. And all these little rituals and changes that might not even exist at home games."

"But it got better?" You looked at the hands in your lap.

"It really does. The first few times the unfamiliarity, it's so exhausting. But with each more trip, it becomes more and more of a habit."

After a beat of silence, Freddie added slowly: "I don't want to lie to you. Sometimes I'd still rather stay at home. Home games are definitely more enjoyable, as far as that goes. But they're exceptions, just like everyone has bad days."

Encouragingly, he gently pressed his shoulder against yours. The brief touch turned into a long moment, somehow your whole sides touching. Your arm rested against his, your legs just a few inches away.

After a few moments, when he still hadn't slipped away again, you let yourself relax against him. Gradually you could feel Freddie’s muscles losing their tension as well.

"What about Denmark? Do you ever miss being there?" you asked into the silence between you. Freddie looked out of the window.  

"When I was younger, I missed it a lot more than I do now. I haven't lived there for so long now that I hardly know any different."

Your eyebrows drew together. You didn't know whether the statement reassured you or whether it made you want to give Freddie a long hug. Somehow it sounded so sad.

"I can still visit it regularly. And it's not as if my family would ever let me forget the language." He pointed to the book next to him.

You hadn't looked at it closely before. But now you noticed that the title consisted of large - obviously Danish - words.

"Just sometimes..." he shrugged his shoulders unsure. Then he picked up his book again with a sigh.

This effectively ended the conversation. You wanted to ask more, but the far-away look in Freddie’s eyes stopped you. Now you felt bad. Making Freddie sad hadn’t been your intention.

As if he could read your mind, he knocked his elbow against yours gently. You took a deep breath. Returning the gesture, you began reading again as well.

While your earlier worries had calmed down for the time being, now, with every breath you took, you were made aware of how close you and Freddie were sitting to each other.

You didn't want to have to get up again.

–   

The flight home was uneventful. A general tiredness hung over everyone.

You yawned again as you finally stepped outside into the cool night air.

The tiredness made you inattentive and you flinched when someone unexpectedly appeared next to you.

By now you didn't even need to look at him to recognize Freddie. Just his stature and the hint of ginger hair were enough.

He casually reached for your bag and took it from your hand.

Baffled, you almost stumbled over your feet, looking up at him.

"That's my bag."

"Yep," he said with a grin. He had slowed down to give you a chance to catch up. "At least I hope it’s yours and not some random one you just took."

You rolled your eyes. “Then what are you doing with it? Now that we've established that it is my bag."

"I'm giving you a ride." He stated casually, then started walking again.

If you hadn't been so exhausted, you would have at least tried to protest out of politeness. 

Nevertheless, you couldn't help but at least tease tiredly: "Maybe I've got another ride by now."

"Is that why you have the Uber app open?"

You looked down at the phone in your hands. Huh, you couldn't say anything against that.

Freddie became serious for a moment.  "Hey, if you really don't want to, I'm happy to just wait here with you until your Uber arrives. But the offer stands."

"You really don't have to," spoke the good manners out of you. Your parents would have been proud. Even to your ears, however, it sounded very half-hearted.

Freddie stopped. You almost ran into him. Since you managed to stop just in time, you were now standing right in front of each other instead. If you had leaned forward just a little, you would have been touching.

For a long moment, Freddie held your gaze.  "I know I don't have to. But I want to." The sincerity in his words made you swallow. For a few seconds, you stood in front of each other, looking at each other. You could have sworn Freddie's eyes flickered down your face for a moment.

But then he just cleared his throat and started walking again. You ignored the small spark of disappointment in your stomach.

You were sure that Freddie purposely made himself taller as he looked down at you and joked: "And no offense to you, but you're really not big enough to be threatening."

"Hey! I can be scary if I want to be."

"Uh-uh. Whatever you say."

You stuck your tongue out at him, even if he couldn't see it, as he opened the trunk.

For some reason, you had expected the car ride with Freddie to be awkward. Instead, comfortable silence spread between you. After you had told him your address, he navigated the car slowly through the dark streets.

You watched the streetlights pass by the windshield for a while.

"So, do you give all the poor stranded newbies a ride?" It could be taken as a simple joke. You tried to keep your voice carefully neutral. Still, the mood in the car shifted. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but rather more serious than before. It felt important.

"Would you believe me if I said I was just being helpful?" Freddie didn't even sound like he believed the reason himself. It wasn't a straight answer, but it wasn't an immediate deflection either. You could just accept this as the answer and move on, just, you didn’t want that anymore.

"Normally? Yes. But when you say it like that? Not really”, you still kept the tone light.

"Yeah... My sister is the only one in our family who is a good liar. As a teenager, I always envied her for that. She could outsmart our mother every time."

A small smile graced your lips at the story. You could literally see it in front of you, a young Freddie stammering as he tried to come up with a story about why he was home late.

Freddie parked the car in front of your house. He continued to look straight ahead. In the dim light, you couldn’t be sure, but you could have sworn his ears were turning red.

"I mean, it really wasn't a big deal. And you're not the worst company either."

"Such a high compliment," you grinned, "Not the worst company."

Maybe his cheeks had gained a little color too.

"But really, thank you, for the ride. It probably wasn’t on your way."

"It was nothing, really. And maybe it was also a little selfish." He said it into the quiet of the night as if it were a precious secret. He turned his head towards you and looked straight at you. There was warmth in his gaze, perhaps a spark of hope.

"I like- I like spending time with you."

You couldn't help but smile at the words. Freddie smiled back.

Very slowly, one of his hands moved towards your face, as if he was giving you time to object. You immediately leaned into the touch as he cupped your cheek.

He stroked the corner of your mouth with his thumb. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. One of your hands rested on his forearm.

"Good thing I like spending time with you too," you whispered softly.

Afterward, you couldn't remember who moved first. Freddie's face came closer towards yours. Your free hand buried itself in his shirt, the other one letting go to run through his hair.

As soon as your lips met, time seemed to stand still for a moment. You forgot all your previous thoughts. The only thing existing was the feeling of his lips pressing gently against yours.

Soon, the sweet kiss turned deeper. The angle wasn’t great, but you made it work.

When you finally broke away from each other, you didn’t move far. Your forehead rested against his, you could feel his breath against your lips.

A small giggle escaped you. Your eyes met. It made Freddie’s smile widen, before his hand slid into your neck to pull your lips to his once again.

– 

It was pure coincidence that you had packed your skates.

After a morning of unpacking deliveries and doing inventory, you were ready to just go home and curl up on your couch. Only Sarah, with whom you had shared the work, had made it more bearable. Before, you had only known her by sight. Now you couldn't remember the last time you had made friends with a colleague so fast.

She was also the first who saw the note on your locker. With a raised eyebrow, she watched as you read it. Your expression had apparently told her enough because she didn't question your decision to stay in the arena and instead said goodbye with a wink.

The note was pretty inconspicuous.

'Meet me on the ice?’

It was the thought of who the message was probably from that made your heart skip a beat.

When you stepped onto the ice this time, Freddie was already skating slow circles across the rink. You were delighted to realize that you could be faster than him in full gear and after several hours of training.

It was a moment of being inattentive – and maybe also you getting tired after a few laps – that he took advantage of. With a gentle push, cushioned on all sides by his pads, he pushed you against the glass.

With your back against the glass and his arms on either side of you, you stopped.

"Hi." You grinned up into his face. Through the mask, he grinned back just as widely.

"Hi."

"What a coincidence to see you here."

"What, were you expecting someone else, skat?" The way Freddie emphasized the last word told you he knew exactly what that would do to you. Your heart melted.

"Writing notes. Pet names. Is this becoming some high school romance novel?"

"I don't even know what you mean, elskling." You could hear the amusement in his voice. Before you had a chance to answer, Freddie had already pushed himself away.

He positioned himself in the net and leaned down. It didn't take you that long to get used to shooting again.

–

With your skates in hand and a pleasant exhaustion making your legs heavy, all you wanted to do was grab your stuff and finally head back to your apartment.  

As you turned the corner, you almost ran into someone. You only just managed to stop in time.

"Oh, I wasn't expecting you to still be here. Didn’t you finish several hours ago?" Tony looked down at you. In one arm he carried a pile of sticks, in the other a large folder overflowing with notes.

"But, oh wait, it's actually good that you're here."

The next words made your heart stop for a moment.

"I just need to talk to you for a minute."

When had that sentence ever been followed by something good?

You couldn't say for sure how long Tony had been standing here. Maybe he had just seen you with Freddie. Before that, you hadn't even thought about whether that was allowed. What if both you and Freddie got into trouble for it?

Or even worse. What if he found out about you and Freddie off the ice? You had only briefly skimmed the contract when you’d signed. You had been far too fascinated by this world, which was secret to every normal fan, to care about that stuff. Not that you’d even expected something like this to happen.

Now you were desperately trying to remember if there was a paragraph about whether relationships with players were allowed at all.

"I won't keep you long," Tony finally snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Brynn - that was the one who was ill. You were his replacement, I don't know if you ever heard his name." You couldn't remember it, but you'd been told so much in the first few days that you could very well have just forgotten it again.

"Anyway. Brynn will be back tomorrow," Tony's face stiffened, "So technically, we don't need any extra help anymore."

"Oh." Of all the fears that had been running through your mind, that hadn't been a scenario you’d considered. You had known from the start that it would only be a short-term job. But you’d have never expected it to be this short.

Tony smiled somberly. "I'm really sorry. I didn't think it would be so quick."

"Yeah, of course. I mean, it's great for Brynn." You weren’t lying. Obviously, it was good to hear, that he was healthy again. But at the same time, knowing you’d lose your job made your heart ache. Even in the short time, you’d grown to love it.

"Yeah," Tony nodded a little absently. He looked conflicted. "Okay, so. Technically I'm not supposed to say anything yet, but... my boss is retiring in the next few weeks. His replacement should be decided by the end of the week. We've had a few conversations and let's just say... I feel like I've got a pretty good chance of getting the role."

"That's really great for you?" you said slowly. Not that you weren't happy for Tony, but your enthusiasm was limited after you'd practically been fired just a minute before.

"That means there's a job opening to be filled." He looked at you meaningfully.

It took you a moment to finally understand. "Oooh."

"Yeah," he nodded, now with a hint of a grin on his lips. "I could put in a good word."

"Really?"

Tony nodded. You had to suppress a loud cheer.  

–

It was a strange feeling. Last away games you’d wished so desperately to be home again. This time you wished you could join. Having to sit at home and having to say goodbye to Freddie sounded almost worse.  

"I'm going to miss you for the next few days."

Freddie came up behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you against his chest. More than willingly, you let yourself fall against him.

He looked at you questioningly over your shoulder. "You're not coming?"

Then it seemed to come back to him too. "Oh, right."

It had taken you almost two days to tell him about the conversation with Tony. You were unsure how to. Plus, an annoying voice in the back of your head that would convince you that Freddie wouldn't care at all.

In the end, you blurted it out one afternoon. In your head, you stuck your tongue out at the nasty voice when Freddie immediately took you in his arms and asked how you were doing.

Even now, he gave you another apologetic hug.

Only one more day until the day Tony would hopefully call.  

The timer beeped. Sighing you peeled yourself from Freddie to take the tray out of the oven.

You sat it down on the counter next to the first, a lot less successful attempt.

You had wanted to do something nice for Freddie, had read up on Danish pastries the day before and after long contemplation finally saved a recipe on your phone. You didn’t know how to pronounce Brunsviger properly, but the pictures had looked great and the recipe seemed easy enough.

You still didn't know exactly where things had gone wrong. Although you had assured Freddie that he really didn't have to – and really, shouldn’t – he had tried a forkful of it anyway. As expected, it wasn’t good. Still, there was a traitorous wetness in his eyes and a long hug.

For the second attempt, Freddie hadn't left your side and guided you through it.

You left some on the counter for Jane. A silent apology for the last time you’d had Freddie over. You might have forgotten to tell her beforehand.

Or maybe, tell her about this at all. There just hadn’t been a good opportunity, especially also constantly having to think about your job.

On this day of all days Jane had come home a lot earlier than you anticipated. For a few seconds, she’d just blinked at you two sitting on the couch, you with your legs in Freddie’s lap.

Then, with a tight voice, she had asked: “Do you have a moment.” Her head nodding to the kitchen.

It had made you feel a little guilty how shocked she looked. Her first words being: “Is that Frederik Andersen in our living room?”.

Obviously, she was happy for you, after the first shock wore off.

The piece of Brunsviger was gone the next morning as you brought Freddie to the door.

"You're gonna be great," you told him goodbye.

The hug was long. Neither of you wanted to be the first to leave. In the end, it was time that drove you apart. If Freddie wanted to get to the airport on time, he had to hurry.

–   

Of course, you watched the games. The first game was great, the second one maybe even better. It was also the first time since the new job that you were actually able to give the games your full attention again. Even if you hadn't really noticed it before, you had missed it a little.

You had a good time. When Freddie had a particularly good save, you wrote him a message. You knew he would reply after the game in the flustered way he always reacted to compliments.

The phone call one evening still took you by surprise. A smile spread across your face. "Hey."

"Hej."

Before you could even reply, you heard a voice in the background.

"Hey, Freddie, what got you smiling like this?" You didn’t recognize the voice but you also didn't have to in order to understand the clearly teasing undertone.

The rustling from the line told you that Freddie must have covered the microphone for a moment. The muffled words he threw back sounded a lot like an insult. The response was laughter.

"Talking to your girlfriend?" came another voice, also obviously meant to tease.

Freddie didn’t reply. You could only imagine his facial expression.

Apparently, it was an interesting one. They probably also had expected some kind of denial.

Now there were several voices talking excitedly over each other.

"Wait what?" - "Wait are you serious?" - "Since when?"

"You can't just say that and leave! You have to-"

Then the voices in the background suddenly disappeared.

"Sorry, I just need to change rooms for a minute”, he said a little sheepishly. "They might have found out that we've been talking."

"Do you mind?" You chewed on your lower lip as you awaited the answer. Freddie didn't sound too worried, but still, probably better to ask.  

"Eh, not really" Then came the cautious question from him too: "Does it bother you?"

You took a moment to really think about it. Maybe it should have bothered you. Especially considering the fact that this was still so new with you two. Still, you couldn't find it in you to worry about it right now. You were far too happy for that.

"No. It probably had to come out somehow. Even if it was quicker than I thought. For hockey players, they're surprisingly smart."

Freddie's laughter rang out from the line. It made you miss seeing the little crinkles form around his eyes. "I'll tell them you said that”, he warned.

"Tony called today."

"Tony? From equipment?" Immediately you could hear Freddie perk up.

As if you knew another Tony.

"Uh-hu. You still have space in your car for one more person?" You let yourself fall backward onto your bed as you gave him a few moments to understand what you were saying.

A few seconds of silence and then a cautiously hopeful: "Yeah?"

"Just so I’m not almost late again, obviously." The corners of your mouth slowly began to pull into a grin.

"Really? Does that mean...?" The joy in his voice only made your grin widen.

"I'm employed. Permanently this time. Not just temporary."

Even as you heard the news from Tony himself, you could barely contain your happiness. As soon as you'd hung up, you'd jumped so loudly that even Jane had come out of the next room.

"That's fantastic!"

You couldn't even put into words how incredibly happy you were just then. The only thing that would’ve made the moment better was if you could have hugged Freddie at that moment.

–  

Before you knew it, the day of the third and final game of the road trip had arrived. As you watched the game on the side while you prepared your dinner, you had a good feeling.

The first period wasn't ideal, but it wasn't disastrous either. The second period started with a goal for the Canes. You jumped up and down enthusiastically, broccoli in hand.

After that, it was all downhill. At the end of the second 20 minutes, the Canes were already 2 goals behind. Two more goals followed. Freddie got pulled in the last 5 minutes. You could almost feel his frustration through the screen as he went down the tunnel.

At that moment, you wished you could’ve been there. How much you would’ve liked to give him a hug and tell him that everything would be okay.

You hesitated for a moment before sending a text. You definitely didn't want to annoy him. A text could never really express the comfort you wanted to give him, but it felt even worse not to write anything.

You tried not to think too much about it when you still hadn't heard back after half an hour. He was probably busy with his post-game routines. After all, they were set to travel back today and arrive late tonight. Surely, he would reply on the plane.

–  

It was pure coincidence that you were looking at your phone at that exact moment. Of course, you hadn't been checking for new messages every 5 minutes all evening. Who would do that? Definitely not you. (There were at least 6 and a half minutes on average between each time you checked your phone.)

So, it was definitely a complete coincidence that you were able to read the text the minute it flashed up on your phone.

It was just two short lines. An address.

It wasn’t even a question if you should go. Before you could even really think about it, you had already grabbed your jacket and put on your shoes.

As you closed the front door, your cell phone beeped with another message.

‘Only if you want to. Might not be in the best mood tonight.’

An obvious offer of a way out. As if you hadn't been waiting for this the whole evening. As if the thought of seeing Freddie again in just a few minutes didn't give you butterflies in your stomach. 

Your heart broke a little at how uncertain the texts sounded, as if you hadn't missed him for the last few days.

Excitement tingled in your fingers as you finally stepped into the elevator to Freddie’s apartment. It had been a short drive.

The door swung open. Freddie was standing in front of you. For a moment, you just looked at each other silently, then he literally pulled you against his chest. More than willingly, you sank into his arms.  

You buried your face in his sweater. The warmth of his body and his familiar scent enveloped you. You could’ve stayed like this forever.

Freddie pressed a gentle kiss into your hair before holding you just a little tighter.

It was the rumbling of his stomach that finally separated you. Even though Freddie was reluctant to let you go, you shooed him into the apartment. He shouldn't have to starve because of you. Who knows when he’d last eaten before the flight?

Freddie apparently understood what you wanted from him and so he led you through the entrance area into the open kitchen. There was already a pot on the stove, some kind of pasta in it. Next to it was a pan of chopped vegetables.

While he took a large wooden spoon and stirred it slowly, you jumped onto one of the counters and sat down. Given your height and the height of the counters, which were definitely adapted to Freddie, it wasn't as easy as you thought, but the twitch in the corner of Freddie's mouth made it worth the effort.

From your position, you could watch Freddie. How his movements were all a little too choppy and the tense line in his shoulders. How he put the spoon down too hard on the counter. How he didn’t raise his eyes.

"It wasn't your fault." You said quietly.

Freddie exhaled in disbelief. He didn't look up at you.

Only when you reached out a hand for him did he come closer. He propped himself up with his arms on both sides of you, resting his forehead against your shoulder.

"Even though you might not believe me just yet, it wasn't your fault," you repeated, hoping that your words would get through to him eventually.

One arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other you let run slowly through his hair.

"You did everything you could. It just wasn't your game. Can't win them all."

He let it pass for a moment, then took a deep breath. He turned his head. With a quick kiss against your neck, he pulled away from you.

"Thank you." He couldn't quite meet your gaze, but you still saw his words for what they were. Not just a thank you for right now, but the texts, the coming over, all the times before that.

"Nothing to thank me for," you confirmed. Freddie shook his head lovingly.

Nevertheless, he probably decided not to disagree for the moment. Instead, he took a plate from the cupboard. Silently he held it out to you, but you shook your head. You’d already eaten.

While Freddie ate, you sat beside him on the sofa. Your legs pressed together with soft music playing in the background for company.

When Freddie got up to take his plate back to the kitchen, you watched him.

Until he came back you hadn't moved from your seat, but apparently, Freddie was no longer satisfied with your previous seating arrangement. With a little shifting around, he finally settled behind you.

His legs were on either side of you, his back against the couch cushions, your back against his chest. One of his arms was wrapped around your waist, drawing slow circles into your side. The other hand was intertwined with yours on your lap.

Your words were quiet. You talked about the last few days, hockey the topic you both ignored. While you told him about the cute dog you'd seen while going grocery shopping, Freddie about something funny one of his teammates had done at team breakfast.

So much more important than your conversations, however, was the fact that you were together at that moment. You enjoyed the closeness; the body heat that radiated from him and slowly made you sleepy.

Every once in a while, Freddie took turns in gently kissing your temple and your forehead. Each time you sank a little more against him.

– 

"Happy New Year," Freddie murmured. His arms around your waist pulled you closer to him.

"Happy New Year," you whispered back against his lips. With your hands on the back of his neck, you reached up for a kiss.

Even after all these years, you still weren't tired of it. Hopefully, you’d never be.

[isfjmel-phleg]

Who is Rachel?

Today, August 7, is my OC Rachel's birthday.

Bio

Rachel Irène Doncath isn't from anywhere. The daughter of Deniol and Sanette Doncath, a Coregean sailor and a Faysmondian former governess, she has lived a more or less migrant life as her family moves from one military assignment to the next. She has an older brother and two younger sisters, and her mother has educated them privately at home. It's been a rather isolated existence, and Rachel has grown into a nervous, timid fourteen-year-old who spends most of her time reading.

When she, her mother, and her sisters come to Faysmond for an extended stay with relatives while her father is at sea and her brother is at the naval academy, they join a household full of family chaos. In an attempt to avoid the upheaval, Rachel accidentally meets a mysterious girl who lives in the castle on the other side of the garden wall. Over the next several months, they meet in secret and develop a close friendship. But it turns out that this girl happens to be Rietta, Queen of Faysmond. And Rachel, not only a commoner but a member of a religious minority discouraged by the Faysmondian government, is a most unsuitable friend for her.

Rachel will find herself caught up in not only her own family drama but the political intrigue surrounding Rietta as she struggles with her own insecurities, trust issues, and how exactly to navigate a friendship with such significant differences.

Why I Love Her

I have a bit of difficulty with Rachel, since in her earliest form she was basically an author insert (silly, embarrssing, etc.). She still bears a lot of similarity to my teenage self, and her family situation mirrors much of my own, but a redesign and some other changes have helped to conceptualize her as something more "inspired by" than "based on." She's become an interesting lens for exploring this fictional world from the perspective of someone who is an outsider in multiple ways and affected by multiple cultures. And yet she is the most "commoner" of all my protagonists. Her family isn't royalty or related to nobility or well-known in any way. She can be down-to-earth and weird at the same time in a way that the others can't. She provides a foil to Rietta, who is outgoing and adventurous and longs for travel but has been trapped in one place most of her life. Rachel, on the other hand, has seen the world but shies back from engaging with it and longs for stability. Instead, she's going to get a friendship that will change her life, some new and more nuanced perspectives on the world and humanity, and hopefully some confidence too. We'll see.

Description

Rachel tended to stand with her shoulders pulled in, clenching one wrist with the other hand, as if trying to correct nature’s mistake of making her a person instead of a piece of folding furniture. Nothing about her was particularly noticeable, except perhaps her hair, a shade too timid to be red. It was absurdly long, usually stabbed through with a pencil and bound back with a ribbon, which did not suit her square jaw. She had a small knob of a nose, a crooked mouth, and noticeably unaligned ears, which she tried to minimize with a habit of ducking her head. This did a disservice to her long-lashed hazel eyes, but their snapping expression was perhaps best left concealed in her household.

Further Info

There is a list of random OC facts for her here. This is a somewhat old list, created when I was still trying to more fully develop the character, and I might need to revisit/rethink it, but you get the idea.

Appearances

Book 1 Chapter One

Book 1 Chapter Two

Book 1 Chapter Two from Rietta's POV

Possibly noncanon scene between Rachel and her sister Addie

Venturing In (later in Book 1)

The Boy with the Botanical Box (still later in Book 1)