#but mostly i just hope you guys are having a nice season

[eijiroukiriot]

a merry dynamy to all of you! may the new year contain many more dynamys

[endearng]

About you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x ex!reader Summary: You know a place that you go to remember Spencer Reid's face. You never thought you'd get to actually see him again. WC: 4.6k Warnings: brief mentions of Spencer's trauma (childhood, addiction); hints at poor coping mechanisms/mental struggles; miscommunication; running away. A/N: This is a mix between canon events and some things are fiction (mostly when it comes to the timeline of the show) and I picture later seasons Spencer. This is based on many songs from ttpd, but this fic came to mind when I was listening to 'About You' by the 1975. I really hope you guys like it. Feedbacks are always welcome and appreciated <3 masterlist

You sat on one of the park benches. Actually, it was on the park bench, near a tree, you used to occupy with Spencer after getting your favorite treats from the coffee shop nearby.

It was your first date as boyfriend and girlfriend and he had started reading to you once the chatter had died down a little bit. He looked beautiful that day, eyes leaving the book pages every now and then so he could catch a glimpse of you. Every time he did, you smiled at him. You were so enamored by his eyes that you didn't care if you were perceived as desperate or too lovestruck when he looked at you. You felt warm inside and for a moment, you thought it could last forever.

From that day on, whenever you could, you'd always go to that park and sit on that specific bench. You even carved your initials in it.

Now, as you caressed the old indentation, dark from all the time that had passed, you were all alone. A hole in your chest.

You were living in Virginia, about to get your Master's Degree. It was the time of the semester when everything seems to be piling up and you can never get the time to take care of it as you should. As you walked home at night, you witnessed a young couple walking into a dark forest, but you didn't mind — horny kids were everywhere and you were glad they had a nice way to let off some steam, not being one to judge someone’s kinks.

The next thing you knew, the FBI wanted to see you. They sent a cute, awfully young agent to your apartment, who introduced himself as 'Doctor Spencer Reid' and waved at you once you answered the door, telling you you had been the last person to witness that young woman alive. You froze, unable to look away from him, sheer shock crossing your intriguing, mesmerizing features. Spencer Reid took more than a minute to try to calm you down to have you answer his questions. Despite your head going miles per minute, you tried to help out as much as you could and were able to describe the man as you managed to recall some of his features.

Then, you had gotten Spencer's number to keep him posted if anything happened, since that unsub was kidnapping and torturing girls from your university. When they wrapped up the case to go home, Spencer went to your building to tell you they were returning to Quantico. You had grown fond of him, his presence a warm embrace compared to the chaos around you, so when he broke the news, you did feel a little disappointed, even though you knew that he would eventually leave. He was sensitive to the matters around him, doing everything in his power and using his intelligence to help everyone around him. It made you grow a sense of hope in other people you haven’t felt in a while.

You took your study break a little earlier that night once you saw him at your doorstep, deciding you'd give him your time. A low "So, you're leaving..." escaping your mouth once he told you why he went to your place. To say goodbye. You couldn't conceal the sadness in your voice.

"Yeah. I just wanted to say goodbye. And to thank you, of course, you helped us a lot." He said, eyes never leaving yours.

"Anytime, Doctor," you joked. "I'm gonna miss you. Even if we've just met. Even if you had to be aware of something so terrible." You confessed. His eyes widened at you in surprise.

His eyes. Big, doe eyes glancing at you like you held the answers to the whole universe.

In that moment, you did. Not his education, not PhD's, plural, not anything he learned from all the books he read and certainly not his time in the bureau. You held the answers.

He chuckled, a little shy. Unable to tell you, verbally, that he would miss you, too. His eyes did the job, though. "Yeah, yeah. It was nice knowing you."

"Yeah, it was," you agreed, coming a little closer to him. You gave him a kiss on his cheek. Soft, warm skin against your lips making butterflies swarm in your belly. He smiled, widely, sincerely.

You wished he was yours.

You also wished he knew that you meant that, 'besides the bad guy and all the terrible things, it was fun meeting you because you are full of light. A masterpiece.'

"Take care, okay, doctor?" You whispered, slowly pulling away from him. “I’ll see you around.”

"Be safe,” he wished, “I hope so, in better conditions."

A few days passed and you got your first call from Spencer, which turned into a second, a third and when you noticed, you were scheduling hang outs. Those turned into dates when you started to go out more frequently to every new place you wanted the other to know. All of that and touching each other more often, more carefully, more passionately than regular friends did.

You simply sat there, your memories the only thing keeping you company, haunting you, besides the tears that pricked in the corner of your eyes. You missed him so much. You missed the time you had with him.

Two years into your relationship, things got more and more complicated. You struggled to keep up with his life and more often than not you seemed to keep much to yourselves instead of sharing things with each other. You never thought you'd share (funny wording) such a distant relationship with someone, let alone one you knew for sure there was so much love and respect. During your time together, you learned about Spencer’s past and some pieces fell into place; he was somehow explained by everything he had faced as a child, teenager and now as an adult — his mother’s condition, his dad walking away, the bullying, being abducted and its consequences. You held him through it all, when the memories and feelings of powerlessness washed over him.

Then, Spencer started to be away more often and the physical distance, enforced by the emotional one that slowly grew between you two, made you feel like you were an intruder in his life. So, you gradually started to hold yourself back from starting conversations. You rarely had his attention and you figured it was because his mind was always elsewhere.

Yours was, too. Back in a time when things were simpler.

As time went by, being around him, too quiet and far out of each other’s reach, simply floating in his orbit, felt like a heavy burden you had to carry in order to keep him in your life. He never opened up and since you didn’t either, you felt like you didn't have the right to suggest you two should fix things, so you let him be. Coexisting together in the same space, oceans apart from each other’s lives and struggles, never touching the subject. The result, of course, was that you grew apart.

It all ended, officially, when you decided to move away to get your Doctorate as an excuse to run away from the hard conversations that you knew would take place if you confronted him about where had things, where had you gone so terribly wrong. You were hell-bent on trying to turn your heartbreak and deception into something, into an achievement. Then, you both decided, albeit reluctantly, that breaking up was the best choice for you, since you’d move away. The part that there was already a huge gap between the two of you remained unspoken. You tried convincing yourself that it would be easier, since you’d never have to see him and you'd be okay being in past chapters of Spencer’s life. 

Funnily enough, it wasn't that simple.

You see, the heart is a tricky machine. The wording here is not random: it works, of course, to primarily pump the blood through your veins to make sure you are getting enough oxygen around your body and deliver waste objects, like carbon dioxide, back to the lungs, to be removed — Spencer had told you so once when you told him your heart beat for him in a corny deliver of a joke. Despite the fact that he was right, you can never anticipate how the heart will react once it has no access to the aim of its affections, after being cut off from their life. Worse: after being slowly dragged away from the one it was sure it would be able to adore for the rest of its pumping-function life. You figured that, maybe it would continue working for as long as it needs to, but not with the same devotion it once knew and now was deprived of.

That was how you passed the last few years of your life.

After Spencer, you weren't really interested in anyone. You tried to put yourself out there, made new friends, tried dating some people, traveled abroad, discovered more about yourself. Nevertheless, in the back of your hopeless mind and dejected heart, you held the memories you had created with him close to your very soul. When things got too quiet, it was him that you thought of. On a train, on the way home or to somewhere new and/or special, in the lazy mornings you spent by yourself, in the nights that got too lonely to bear by yourself, during your lunch breaks that you always seemed to remember how much he loved sharing those with you — stealing food from his plate, even if you didn't like whatever he was having, just so he could steal your dessert to make sharing equal. He got a sweet tooth after dating you.

Now, though, something felt off. You had spent years of your life pining and longing and hoping that you'd find your way back to each other in the end that now you didn't have the guts to search for him. You kept an eye on his life and could remember a thing or two of all his achievements and papers that were published in science magazines, a brief abstract ready to roll off your tongue if someone asked you about it. You tried keeping up with his professional life in order to feel closer to him, but the thing was, you didn't know if he had someone else, if he had moved on more easily than you (not that you had), if he had learned to cope a little better with the hardships of his job. You always said he needed some rest for his noisy mind.

Even the air in your hometown made you think of him. Felt like him: distant, missed and still plaguing your thoughts. It was the aftermath of running away for some time.

In hindsight, perhaps you had only shared fleeting moments with Spencer and it was a frail affair, doomed from day one, knowing how different your lifestyles were. When you got too fed up with your longing and inner romanticism over this relationship, you would try to convince yourself that you were better off without him. That being alone was better than to be by yourself in a relationship that you only kept for the sake of calling him yours.

Still, there was something missing. You didn't know what it was, but you were tired of wasting your time, waiting for a bus that never showed.

From afar, Spencer watched, dumbfounded, a figure that resembled someone he once loved so much, sitting on the bench he used to share with you. He still does love. Or maybe he doesn't. He doesn't know, really. He's been through so much, losing loved ones, losing his mother and enduring several trauma after leaving the FBI, never having the time to properly take in the happenings in his life. Could it possibly be you? He could never forget your form, no matter how many years passed and how hard he had tried to do that. His heart started slowing, oxygen lacking in his lungs. He felt dizzy. Was it a mirage?

Or maybe it did, and perhaps you had missed it.

Memories started to flood his mind and he was unable to move.

Daylight faded, announcing the beginning of the evening. Spencer listened as you read to him one of your favorite novels, The Hour of the Star, a Brazilian novel by Clarice Lispector. It definitely wasn't romantic, but you always made sure to use the correct tone whenever you were reading the characters' lines, and you paused every now and then to make comments and listened when he had one of his own. Those were precious, rare, quiet moments in his hectic life. He cherished them because of that, of course, but most importantly because you were with him.

Once you finished the chapter you were reciting, you noticed how dark it already was and that the lights of the city were already on, casting a soft glow over Spencer. He looked exceptionally, effortlessly beautiful that night. You smiled at him. "Shall we go home, Spence?"

"Yes," he accepted, helping you up. You thanked him with a kiss to his cheek, which made him flustered.

Years together and he could never get used to the effect your touch had on him, always wishing he could have more, more, more.

As you walked home together, he took your ring, a gift from him that was usually placed in your left hand, and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. Your reply was to kiss him senseless in public.

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him when you abruptly broke the kiss, looking back with a mischievous, happy expression on your face. He trailed after you, one single thought in mind: I'll never let you go.

The woman — he didn't want to deceive himself if she wasn't you, he was staring at her back, after all, so he thought it was better to be careful with his hopes —, had longer hair, fit better into her clothes, but her movements were scarily just like yours. From the way she looked around to the slight tilt of her head when you'd contemplate the park all those years ago. Spencer felt his thoughts clouding with the need to approach her, curiosity driving him to work on this instinct, but as soon as he moved to walk, he instantly halted his movements. What would he say?

"Hello?", "Is that you?" "Are you back?" "Are you real?" "Have you forgotten about me?"

The questions swimmed around his head like he had no control over his own mind. If there was a monitor to show every single thought running through his brain, it would definitely collapse, smoke clouding the air, telling how overwhelmed he felt. He decided on approaching as a passerby, walking as if he didn't want anything by it, acting nonchalant. He made his way closer to the bench, to the woman. 

She heard footsteps behind her, not too close, but still turned to search for the source of the disturbance, out of her daydreaming. You looked at each other for a moment that felt like an eternity — time stopped, the children stopped playing and the passersby stopped breathing.

As you turned around, your eyes found Spencer. The love of your life. You took in his appearance. His hair was long, unlike how it had been when you last saw him, and he didn't care about styling it as much as he did when he was younger, his curls unruly and a little messy, a little stubble growing on his face. His expression looked harder now, more tired, ripe. You couldn't quite know how to describe him properly. For a moment, you considered that he had hardened over the years, opposite from the caring, soft man you've met and loved ardently once.

On a surface level, looking at him made you feel like you've been loving a ghost. A memory, something that could never return.

Your mind suddenly felt empty. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"You?" You heard the question, uncertain, leave his lips in a low voice. Was it in your head or did you sense hurt?

Again, you wanted to speak, to say something, greet him, tell him you've missed him, ask him if he was okay. Nothing came out. Everything seemed inappropriate. Again, he beat you to it, coming closer to you, voice firmer. "What are you... I thought you'd left."

"I did."

"I know."

Silence. He got closer, moving to sit beside you.

"Yeah." Silence. Still looking at each other. "I came back a couple of months ago. Started visiting exactly three weeks ago, today." You revealed to break the silence, even though the idea that everything that came out of your mouth was improper still plagued your mind.

Spencer felt baffled. You looked different, more mature, even your style had drastically changed — you once wore colorful, baggier outfits, full of life and bright shades matching your personality (you even went shopping with Penelope and you exchanged fashion tips), but now, you wore more sober, neutral tones. Instead of the usual sneakers, or the Converse you both loved to wear together to match your outfits — his black and yours blue —, you wore black boots with heels. You looked grown. And it fit you. Still, your face was the same: your eyes held the same glimmer in them from all those years ago, your lips still as inviting as it ever was for him.

He licked his own, realizing his mouth was dry. "I come here every now and then when things get too heated." He confided, eyes never leaving your figure.

You smiled. A hole in his chest, desolation invading his being. The simple act still makes his machine of a heart ache and speed to reach its full capacity. Of breaking for you. "It's peaceful."

You knew that he seeked solace from whatever was happening in your memories together in that place. At least, you hoped so. You hoped, selfishly, that he thought of you as much as you thought of him, of his ghost. That he ached for you as much as you ached for him.

"Yeah."

Awkward silence engulfed the two of you. You didn't know where to look, but you could never stop scanning his face, taking in his features with care. "I like your hair. It fits you," you said.

He got closer, less than an arm's length between the two of you. Almost itching for you to touch his hair, eyes pleading for some mercy on your end. You've been awfully quiet and if meeting him maim you, you certainly have improved your poker face skills. "You've changed," he retorted. "I never thought I'd see you so different from, you know..."

You didn’t remember Spencer at a loss of words.

Too close. "I hope for the better."

"Why didn't you call?" He asked, brows furrowing.

Come to think of it, it was an excuse you had rehearsed quite a few times when you imagined this scenario, “I was settling, still trying to contact everyone, still finding my way around…”

“And you didn’t think of me?” His tone was wounded. He certainly dreamed you’d come back and was positively sure that you’d reach out to him. Of course, he was wrong.

He didn’t know what to say. Of course he would pick up, but there was no way you could know about it nor trust him if he said so; why would you? You had left him because he built walls around him, cutting you off from his life, torturing you, slowly dragging the end of your relationship and he couldn’t explain why. Once you left, Spencer delved into his work life like never before. He flirted with women and even slept around, which he was aware was a poor coping mechanism, all to outrun the desertion of you, desperately wishing he could forget that he could feel alive in your presence. He even tried having a relationship. It was nice having someone around, now that he was grown and had made peace with some of his demons, but it was never like you and it was all that she was to him: someone around. He never felt that spark with her like he had felt with you, never again having a taste of the sensation that ran through him whenever he stumbled excitedly into your apartment when you invited him over, seizing the rare opportunities to be with you, happiness bubbling inside him. With his new girlfriend, it was quiet. He mistook it for the calmness he lacked within himself when he was with you, but it was just bland. Needless to say, he felt awful about straight up using a person to keep his mind off of you, but it was nice while it worked. He started longing for something he couldn’t even describe what it was.

“Of course I did. I just thought you wouldn't pick up,” you replied.

One day, you guys met halfway, between the two cities you were both in. It was raining and you launched yourself into his arms once you recognized him. You had kissed him like a soldier's wife, for you sure definitely missed him like one — he had been away on a case which took longer than usual. “Hi,” you greeted, shyly, after giving him the hottest kiss of his life.

“Hi,” he smiled, a little flushed.

“I couldn't wait to get to you, Spence,” you confessed, arms pulling him back to hug you once again, his own engulfing your figure. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too. I miss you all the time.” He said, burying his face into the crook of your neck, wet hair prickling on his skin. He peeled himself away from you, taking a deep breath. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

The squealed “Yes!” before you kissed him ardently once more was forever ingrained into his mind.

Amidst his reverie, you stood up from your seat. The wind tousled your hair slightly, so you used your left hand to tuck it behind your ear. The street lights reflected their light on a ring you had on your left hand. He recognized it instantly. “I should go,” you murmured, slightly graceless.

“You still have it.”

You looked at him, still sitting and nodded softly. You were hit with the realization that he also remembered you. It didn’t matter that it was such a small thing about you, relief flooded your veins at the very thought that he thought of you. “I do.”

You waved at him, your lips turned upwards shyly. You turned your back and started walking away from him. Again, he thought. And again, he let you, without putting up a fight, which he was aware that he should have done. The elephant in his chest was a light weight compared to the heavy truth dancing around in his throat. Said truth would become much bigger, a heavier burden for him to carry, once it made its way out of him. Speaking made it real. He knew it because every memory that he kept of you, in a sacred, untouched area of his own consciousness, was full of comfort after sharing uncomfortable truths.

It was like his heart screamed at him to keep searching, to keep trying for the person who made it beat faster. But his brain, foggy with all the logic and terrible, horrid things he had to face, decided it was best to keep himself away from you, to save himself the trouble of being the target of pity, or worse, being another person who left him.

From that day on, you’d casually visit the park, secretly wishing you could see him more. It didn't take too long until your wishes were granted, no matter how private you thought they were. Perhaps they were all over your face and he could still read you so easily. Despite the apparent capacity of reading your wants, you were positively sure that Spencer didn't know what to say, just like you. Everything, including him, felt as distant as you had left it. You weren't sure if you could go back, but running away was just as troublesome: you had to adapt in order to survive, but everyone else surrounding you was already fit to the environment. You stuck out like a sore thumb, unable to connect with anyone but the protagonist from past memories of what once was a happy relationship.

Every time you were there, you sensed someone looking at you shortly after your arrival. It was like an unspoken agreement between the two of you, to try to talk things through without rushing into anything, trying to conquer the other's forgiveness by sharing both ordinary and big moments you had during your time apart. As you sat down and talked and shared, you realized that you'd never stop loving him, not even for a second, not even if you could. You had tried and failed, and kept coming back for more to fall in love with the same person over and over.

These encounters quickly turned into the best moments of Spencer's weeks, getting to be filled in on the things he had missed in your life. You had shown him photos, your new degree, new friends, discussed details about your job and how things were in your family. All of that wrapped in intricate, subtle details on how much you'd turned into a person he was already feeling proud of. You had grown into a strong-willed woman who managed to keep your heart as pure as the day you had met him. You still had the traits that made you fall in love with him.

One day, you two were sitting on the bench and you pointed to your initials on it. “Heh, I remember that day. You kept worrying someone was going to show up and stop me from doing it.”

He smiled. “I'm glad no one did.”

“It's funny, isn't it?” You asked, eyes on the indentation, not expecting him to answer due the lack of context. He frowned. “I mean, us. Acting like we don't know each other just for the sake of spending time together.”

He thought for a moment. With your shameless comment, you were definitely daring him to say something. Daring him to make things real, but better this time. “I like that idea,” he said, getting you to look at him. “Don't you? We get to meet each other again. I get to meet you again and I get to make sure that, this time, I'll never let you go.”

“You still don't know me enough to say that with such sureness,” you said, feeling bashful all of a sudden. It was also one of your behaviors that got him so enthralled, once again. Your capacity of saying something and then act coyly, as if you didn't know what he was talking about. Almost backtracking on whatever you had said that was a little more risky than the usual chatter.

He wouldn't let you.

“I want to.”

His tone made you speechless. Your expression turned into one of sheer, pure enchantment. It told him everything he needed to know.

Everything bad was now under the bridge and you could finally have each other back after being so patient.

He now remembered what it was that he missed so dearly in his life.

You.

[monzabee]

how you get the girl – cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you and your boyfriend Charles attend a gala for a friend and run into Harry Styles – who happens to be your ex. 

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: mentions of a past break-up, jealousy, possessive charles, angst? (only if you squint, or maybe not I don’t know), charles being charles, google translate French, anger?

Request: “Can I request a Charles fanfic with angst? Maybe famous singer reader used to date someone really famous like Harry styles and they run into Harry and Charles is really jealous and acting up/mad?”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! this is my first time writing a fic, so all feedback is welcome and appreciated. i liked the idea that the anon named harry so i used him, but also i had to include taylor swift some way because she is the literal best. thank you anon for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” You sigh, fixing the way the neckline of your dress looks and meeting the eyes of your boyfriend through the mirror. “I know you’d rather be relaxing tonight than entertaining people.” 

Charles smiles softly as he keeps his eyes focused on yours, the green in his eyes shining just a little bit brighter due to the afternoon sun shining through the hotel room window. He abandons his place on the edge of the bed and comes closer to stand behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Are you trying to convince me to stay back, or convince yourself, chérie?”

His question brings a mischievous smile on your lips and you shrug your shoulders with faux innocence as you lean your head back on the Monegasque’s shoulder. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, chéri.” Your use of the pet name he taught you when the two of you first went on a date makes him let out a laugh – well, you don’t know if it is because of your use or your pronunciation or your use of the word in general, but you’re hoping for the latter. 

“Well, I think you are.” He takes your hand in his and slowly moves you from your place in front of the mirror. “And it’s not going to work, because you—”

“Promised Helen we’d be there. I know, I know.” You huff, shaking out of his grasp and fixing his bowtie with a small frown on your face as you mumble, “I thought you F1 drivers would be into breaking the rules, but no, I had to find the only decent one.” 

Charles chuckles as he places his hands back onto your waist as you continue your mission with a relentless sense of seriousness. “Aw, you think I’m decent?” 

An urgency to smile snakes up onto your lips because of his question but you try to refrain yourself from doing so by twisting your lip, “Shut up, Charles.” 

“I think you’re decent as well,” he takes a moment to think with an exaggerated expression, “pretty, too.” 

You smile at your handiwork as you pat his bowtie twice and place your hands on the sides of your hips. “Is this your way of saying I look nice?”

He shakes his head and starts walking you towards the door, picking up your coat and bag, and ignoring your protests along the way. “But, yes of course. However, we need to go right now if you don’t want to make Helen angry at you for being late.” 

“At me?” You ask, confused. 

Charles laughs. “Well, yes, chérie. She loves me too much to get mad at me. You’ll have fun once we go inside.” 

By the time the two of you arrive at the gala, Charles has managed to uplift your mood (mostly by promising you pizza and sweets after the two of your leave the event). When you get to Royal Albert Hall, Helen welcomes you with a big smile and open arms. The three of you decide to grab drinks together at the bar and talk about the event, your latest recording deal, Charles’ upcoming season, and Helen’s new client who is a “twat-waffle in skinny jeans, but don’t worry about me, honey, I’ve seen worse.” She leaves the two of you to welcome newcomers, who are probably looking at her to congratulate her on the event. You place your glass on the bar and turn to face Charles, who is looking at you with a small smirk on his face. 

You sigh exaggeratedly and tilt your head to the side. “Fine, you were right, this is fun.” 

He matches your sigh, although with a lighter tone to it. “I know, I love being right.” He quickly finishes the rest of his drink and gets up from his place to offer you his hand. “Now, chérie, allons-nous danser?” Shall we dance? You nod your head, giggling as you take his hand and allow him to pull you onto the dance floor. With the alcohol coursing through your veins, you think this might be the perfect night. 

You and Charles dance through what feels like a hundred songs, but in reality, you lose the count after the third slow-paced song because the DJ decides he’s had enough of the slow songs for the evening and moves onto the fast-paced ones. Both of you jump up and down to the rhythm of the music as best as you can in your choice of heels for the evening, and Charles is there with you to do the same. He nudges your shoulder and wiggles his eyebrows when the DJ decides to play one of your recent songs, not shy to let the people around you know that it is your song. “That’s my girlfriend’s song!” he says, “Yes! It’s the new one!” 

After the previous song finishes, the two of you decide to retire for a bit, walking out onto the balcony to get some fresh air. You turn to Charles when you hear him chuckling and find him shaking his head. “Hey, what are you laughing at?” 

“You look like a tomato, mon amour.” He’s quick to add, “A very cute one at that.” 

You let out a shocked gasp, swatting lightly at his chest to cease his laughs. “It’s not funny! I never make fun of you after your races, even if you do look like a tomato.” 

“That is not true, and you know it.” His laughter continues, making you join him and soon after both of you are laughing uncontrollably; with you leaning against the railing of the balcony and him with his arms placed on either side of you to cage you in. After your laughter dies down, leaving you both in heaving breaths in to calm yourselves, he shrugs off his jacket and gently places it onto your shoulders. 

You gaze up at him, softly smiling through your lashes. “Thank you, my love.”  

You press your lips against the corner of his mouth, but he is quick to capture your lips in his, and his eyes are the last thing before you close yours as he starts kissing you. His hands quickly start moving and he drags them up your body to cradle your face between his hands as he deepens the kiss. You let out an involuntary whimper, in which he responds by gently tugging at your lower lip. In an attempt to bring him closer, you slip your fingers through the belt loops of his dress pants, which thankfully is not occupied by a belt. Charles’ response is to bring your face even closer as he keeps kissing you. The two of you don’t realise the sound of footsteps coming from behind you. 

“Oh, God, sorry.” A voice interrupts, and you quickly separate from each other, albeit a little bit unwillingly. You inhale deeply to regulate your irregular breathing, and let out a gasp as your eyes fall onto the intruder. Just as you are about to open your mouth, he beats you to it. “I can’t believe it, hi Y/N, it’s been ages!” 

Although Charles’ eyebrows furrow, he keeps his gaze focused on you only to turn around to face the intruder once you say, “Hi, Harry, it’s been a while!” He gives him a once over, keeping his hands on your waist as the two of you talk about the lost time. And yes, while Charles can be a jealous man – just like any other guy in a relationship who is as besotted with their partner as he is with you – he never considers himself to be possessive. He even likes Harry’s music, he mostly encounters the songs at the paddock before a race or after while doing media stuff, but he doesn’t have any issues regarding his music or him in general just because he is dating you because he is secure in your relationship to know just how much you love and respect him and the same goes for you. But standing there with you leaning against him while talking to your ex-boyfriend, yes he know he is your ex-boyfriend like the rest of the world thanks to your very public break-up, he just wants to take you away from there any to anywhere where the two of you can be alone. 

You leap off the railing you were leaning against when you feel Charles’ hands tightening on your waist and move one of your hands to cover his as you give him a slight squeeze. “This is Charles, my boyfriend.” 

He watches as you give him a polite smile and attempts to do the same, but it reality his probably comes-off as a strained one. Harry offers him a handshake as he smiles at him, “Hello, nice to meet you.” And then, he watches as the Brit turns his attention once against to you. 

“We missed you at the awards this season, you didn’t attend any of them!” Harry chuckles, shaking his head a little. 

You shrug and answer him with the same polite smile on your face. “Well, you know me, never been fan of the award shows in the first place.” 

Charles knows this, of course he does, because whenever someone starts to ask you about award season in the first place, you let them know that the awards are not the reason you write songs in the first place – the fans are. He tunes most of your conversation out as his insecurities take over his thoughts, he thinks it is funny in a way because your relationship might be the only one where he has felt like he could be himself without worrying about what you might think. Just as he is about the calm his fears by the logical side of his brain reasoning and telling him that he should probably stop acting like a fool, he hears Harry asking you about a song on your album which makes him throw all the rationality he has out the metaphorical window. 

“I-uh, I listened to your new album, it was very good.” Harry says. 

A wide smile finds a place on your face. “Oh, thank you, Harry! It’s nice to hear that.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I liked that one song the most, what’s it called, How You Get the Girl?” He thinks quietly for a split second. “Oh whatever – it was very good. But tell me the truth, was it or was it not about me?” 

“Sorry, can’t tell you that, it’s a secret.” You laugh. And he laughs. And Charles only watches the scene before him without being able to say anything because he is swarmed by all the thoughts he tried so hard pushing out of his head coming back. You must’ve notice his drastic change in mood because you excuse the two of you saying that you’re feeling a little bit cold.

“Oh sure, it was nice seeing you again.” Harry smiles at you, and then addresses Charles, “It was also nice meeting you, Charles. Take care of my girl, eh?” 

“You too, Henry.” Charles replies, without filtering his response in his head and hangs his head low to avoid any awkwardness. 

You wait until the Brit leaves the balcony and then focus on the man in front of you, “Charles–” you start, but he cuts you off with a low voice. 

“Can we just go home?” He inhales deeply. “Please.”  

Needless to say, the car ride home is quiet and tense. Charles acts like he doesn’t care, but you know deep inside that he is bothered by what happened and is probably overthinking the entire situation. The one thing you are grateful for is the fact that you didn’t drive to the venue but instead opted for a car service, thinking that you’d both be drunk by the time event ended. However in reality, neither of you are drunk and you are fairly sure Helen is going to send you a very angry text the next morning because you left early. When the driver announces that you’ve arrived at the hotel, Charles thanks him before exiting the car and you do the same before you lean over to open your door, but Charles is quicker than you and he does it for you. 

He is quiet the entire way up to your hotel room, but he has an arm around you and you place your hand right on top of his in an attempt to sooth whatever negative emotions he is feeling at the moment. He is also quiet when you get to your room, and he helps you pull off your coat and his jacket underneath the coat. He smiles for a split second, seeing his oversized jacket on your frame, but the seriousness returns as he helps you out of it. 

“Charles,” you say his name, “please talk to me.” 

“I’m okay, chérie.” He sighs and places a small kiss to you forehead. “I’m going to take a shower before bed, okay?” He leaves before giving you an opportunity to speak, and you are left behind, thinking about the last time he called you that pet name a few hours ago, and how he was smiling.

Instead of pushing him to talk about his feelings you decide to let him cool down, hoping that he would be more open to having a conversation about what happened after his shower. So, you take of your shoes and your dress – although you struggle to find the zipper for a while – and you take of your make up on the small vanity the hotel provided for you after you put on your pyjamas for the night. By the time Charles is out of his shower, you are waiting for him sat on the edge of the bed, playing with your fingers. 

“I thought you’d be sleeping by now.” He mumbles, weaving his hands through his wet hair. 

You can’t help the small frown etching on your face. “We never go to bed angry at each other.” 

You can see the change in his eyes, but even though his eyes soften at the sight of you, his tone is firm when he tells you, “I’m not angry at you, Y/N.” 

“See, I find it hard to believe that right about now.” You mumble, your eyes falling on your lap for a second. 

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Just go to sleep, okay? We’ll talk in the morning.” 

“What? Why?” You ask, your voice wavering at the last syllable. “Where are you going?” 

“I’m just going to go over some statistics in the living room.” He doesn’t look at you, or let you protest. He picks up his computer from the abandoned backpack in the corner of the room and presses another light kiss to your forehead before going into the living room to try to get rid of the anger by working it off. 

And thus, you try to go to sleep – mainly because you know just how stubborn Charles is. His mother always tells you stories about when he was a kid and refused to go to bed in his pyjamas because he didn’t want to take off his karting suit. But you see how much he’s stubborn every single day, when he makes you get out of bed in crack-dawn of the day because you told him you wanted to start exercising with a “no, mon amour, you said you wanted to start running!”, or when he makes you eat your vegetables because “you can’t live off of chicken nuggets for the rest of your life, you’re in your twenties!”. But most importantly, you see how stubborn he is every time he pushes himself to be better; a better man, a better son, a better driver and even a better boyfriend. So, it breaks your heart to think that he is outside the doors of the bedroom, alone and contemplating things he shouldn’t have to because he knows just how much you love him. So, you get out of the bed, which isn’t very hard in the first place because it feels too empty and cold without Charles in it, and you march your way through the bedroom doors and into the living room where a certain green-eyed Monegasque driver is hunched over his computer in the low light. 

He looks up and his eyes go wide when he spots you, sleep evident in your eyes and there is a permanent pout on your lips. There is a silent communication between the two of you as he pushes his chair slight off the table for you to place yourself on his lap and consequently wrapping yourself around his sitting figure. 

“Chérie, you should be sleeping, it’s late.” He speaks in a low voice, encouraging you to go to sleep, but you know him well enough to read between the lines. 

Your voice comes of muffled because you cuddle against the side of his neck. “I couldn’t sleep because someone refuses to talk about his feelings and made me become accustomed to his cuddles over the past year and a half.” 

“Mon amour,” he sighs, “I am fine, you don’t have to worry about me. Okay?” 

There isn’t any emotional strain in his voice, unlike before, but you still don’t like the fact that he refuses to acknowledge his feelings. So instead of pushing, you pick your head up again and focus on his green eyes, “You called me by my name, and you never call me by my name unless I’ve done something wrong.” 

“That’s not true.” His voice comes off as a whisper this time. 

“It is and you know it.” You untangle one of your arms from around his neck to cradle his jaw and let your finger wander around. “Please tell me what I’ve done wrong so that I can fix it.” You think for a moment. “S'il vous plait.” Please. 

Charles lets out a frustrated breath and tightens his arms around your frame – involuntarily, or maybe not, but who cares, really? “It’s mine,” He grumbles. 

“What is?” You ask, tilting your head with genuine curiosity. 

“The song.” Now it is Charles’ turn to pout. “It’s my song, you wrote it for me. I was there when you recorded it and you told me so.” 

“Oh, Charles.” You coo, bringing your other hand up to his face and gently caressing his face as you straighten yourself up on his lap. “It is about you, my love, he was just joking.” 

You let out a chuckle as you hear him mumble, “Well, it wasn’t funny to me.” 

“Is this about more than the song?” You ask, continuing the movement of your hands. You smile as he lets out a dissenting mumble, “Good, because I would hate it if you thought I have eyes for anyone other than you.” 

“You would?” He mumbles, leaning into your touch. 

“Oh yes, I would be very upset.” You nod, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips. “And Charles?” You ask. 

“Yes, chérie?” He asks right back, his eyes not leaving yours even for a moment. 

“I’m sorry for making you feel that way.” 

“It’s not your fault,” His eyes become serious for a second again, but they soften at the sight of you quickly. “Don’t blame yourself, chérie.” He mumbles as he kisses you softly on your lips. “Okay?”

“But still,” You mumble, “I’m sorry for making you feel that way.” 

He sighs, but it is not a sad sigh like before. Which makes you think it is an improvement. “I’m sorry I can’t write songs about you.”

“What?” You ask, voice shaky. “What do you mean?” 

“I’m not– I can’t put my feelings into words that way.” His hands occupy themselves with the string of your pyjama pants. 

“I don’t need you to write me songs, Charles, and I don’t want you to change.” You press soft kisses around his face, making him smile involuntarily. “I love you just the way you are, you stubborn stubborn man.” You thing he’s about to say something, but can’t finish your train of thought because suddenly you’re being lifted off the chair and you’re in the air. You let out a shriek, “What are you doing?” 

“Taking you to bed,” Charles replies, and rolls his eyes as your expression changes. “To sleep,” he emphasises the second word, “méchante fille” naughty girl. You laugh as he puts you back on your side of the and tucks you in before turning off the lights and getting into the bed himself. He is quick to pull you towards his arms and cuddle you under his weight, which you’ve become accustomed to and helps you sleep better. “Go to sleep, mon amour.” He kisses you on your forehead again. 

“Charles?” You ask into the night, and continue once he lets out an affirmative hum. “Je t'aime.” I love you.

“Je t'aime aussi, mon amour.” I love you too, my love. You hear him say as you’re falling to sleep. “Tu es l'amour de ma vie.” You’re the love of my life.

[jweekgoji]

yan! hiccup/reader/yan! dagur

I'm on season 4 of RTTE but I just can't help but think how interesting the dynamic between Yan!hiccup and Yan!dagur would be.

tw: yandere, yandere rivals, mentions of attempts of kidnapping, slightly stalk-ish hiccup (?), overprotective Dragur, possessiveness

Dagur is already such a troublesome and unbearable person. sorry not sorry, but seriously, that guy toyed with Hiccup and almost drowned him? such a menace but that's why we love him, haha.

pre RTTE is probably one of the wildest times for you to be in this love triangle. while it is actually so nice to be around Hiccup, discussing every simple thing you two enjoy together like drawing or inventing (of course, not without him awkwardly standing next to you, almost stuttering every now and then); Dagur is the one who mostly talks. He would drag you around the island, yelling about how you two would be unstoppable together as dragon hunters and eventually you two might succeed in killing THE night fury! well, he would be the one who did all the job because it's him, obviously 🙄but you were here too, I guess...doing somethin very very important…

Even though Dagur gets a «bit» too crazy during dragon hunting, he still pays a good amount of attention to you. He would constantly make sure you stay NEAR him ALL the time, if you just made a few steps away, he would not bother casually taking your hand and be like 'nuh-uh, you're not going anywhere ☝️' with that calm voice of his, as if he's talking to some reckless little thing like you, who totally needs to be looked after by him. Dagur likes physical touch, he also loves the attention, giving and receiving it at the same time. If something or someone poses a threat to you, he would not hesitate to pull you behind him and deal with it himself.

Hiccup can't be as bold as Dagur though. He's shy, awkward and just doesn't have any experience at all. I'm not sure if Dagur has any experience too, but he's at least confident in what he does. Unlike Dagur, Hiccup is not as strong as him, and most of the time, it makes him frustrated and feel less of himself. He already experienced constant bullying by people on his own island, including his father and he judges himself too. But with Toothless around, he feels less powerless and more hopeful. If he is sure you're fine with dragons, he would find it as a reason to get closer to you. You want to find a dragon friend? Good for you, Hiccup is the best dragon trainer around. If you have your own dragon, it's just more perfect for him, because he would now use the opportunity to show his skills to you and maybe prove that he's actually more than everyone thinks of him? If he's very awkward with you on the ground, eye to eye, he's less tense around you now that he has his best friend around him. After all, it doesn't feel as scary as before.

Dealing with both Dagur and Hiccup would not be easy. Because if they both have a massive crush on you, it's just a matter of time before one finds out about the other. I feel like Dagur might get suspicious at first, because he doesn't care if you like him or someone else, he will be around you. Hold his hands around your waist, shoulders, constantly whining if you just stop paying attention to him as if his life depends on it. If someone approaches you, like Snotlout, he just can't help but show how annoyed he is. Dagur is not shy about making it obvious how the presence of others irritates him.

Hiccup has to be concerned about the dragons' safety, the safety of Berk, Dagur and now yours safety too. If you're not from Berserker Island but from Berk, Dagur doesn't want to part ways at all. He puts his eye on you, and he just can't let you slip away like that. He might just put you over his shoulder and get you on his ship when it's time to go— but thankfully, Hiccup notices this at the right time and saves you from the fate of being stuck with this madman.

If Dagur treats everyone as a possible rival, Hiccup is not that comfortable expressing his feelings yet. I mean, of course he likes you, he would constantly daydream about you like a normal teenage boy, sketching you in his book so many times that even Toothless can replicate it with a stick between his teeth. Well, maybe just a bit more than just a typical teenage boy crush. He knows he can't be like Dagur who can just express his love to you whenever the young Berserker chief sees you, but he shows it in every small but meaningful way he can. Hiccup would find out what you're interested in, what you like, and every small little fact he can memorize, but he would put it like it's just all an accident and pretend like he didn't know anything about it. good for you to have a friend like him?

When things get more heated between you three, Dagur is more protective, he's not that dumb, actually, and he perfectly sees how his bro gets a bit too friendly with you. He really, really tries to think it's just because his two favorite people are being nice to each other and nothing more, but jealousy...! I don't think he would be as violent towards Hiccup as to other people, before «betrayal» he actually thought of the poor boy as the only person he can trust.

«I just HATE how every time I try to get close to [them], someone always appears out of nowhere and takes [their] attention from ME! I mean, [they're] obviously mine, right? You wouldn't try to steal [them] from me too, yes, Hiccup? 🤨 Haha! Of course, you wouldn't, it's not like [they] interested in you anyway ☺️»

«...Right. 👀»

After the fight between the two when it gets revealed about the dragons, Dagur is practically furious. More than usual this time, since he is forced to leave, and he can't see your pretty face again now :((

But good news, it makes you and Hiccup closer now! Whether you want it or not, you were close to Dagur for a good amount of time, you might consider him even some kind of friend of yours. Someone might get a little suspicious of you, because maybe you accidentally took some bits of craziness from Dagur too, but eventually, Hiccup, being the sweet trustful sweetheart would make sure you feel as comfortable as possible. He stays longer than usual, asks if maybe you need a nice quiet ride with him and Toothless just to clear your mind off the recent incident, would always be the one who checks on you every day. He really, really wants to do more, but expressing his true feelings is still so hard for him. It was said that Hiccup is a good gift maker, so expect to receive some small gifts next to your door out of nowhere.

While being away from you, Dagur thinks only about these three things. Night Fury. Hiccup. You. 🔁

His ego hurts, his heart aches, and it doesn't help that he gets even more violent towards others. Every time he tries to attack the riders, he hopes to see you too. When he spots you on your dragon with other riders, he is happy. But you are with dragon riders, so he quickly loses his temper, screaming orders about how his people should focus on capturing you and night fury, the others don't really matter to him.

You just can't help but notice how the fights between the two get more serious with each time now that you're the main target. Dagur would make it one of his personal goals to drag you back to his ship, meanwhile Hiccup would do everything to not get you on Dagur's ship. And that just repeats over and over again, at this point it's just something deeply personal you three have. Meanwhile, the others are left all confused and lost. The time Dagur spent in prison is probably not for the best, isn't it?

[writingonleaves]

i've been yours since you stepped through the door tonight - andrei svechnikov

pairing: andrei svechnikov x original female character

warnings: swearing, drinking alcohol, lotta fluff, inaccuracies regarding anything athletic trainer related (timeline of training, terminology, etc), proofread maybe once, mentions of injuries, author has never been to raleigh, mostly based off the first hald of the 2023-2024 season but i couldn't be bothered to keep track how often svech had been in and out lmfao

title: "almost touch me" by maisy kay, also inspired by "lowkey" by NIKI

word count: 16k

author's note: this idea's been swirling around my head for awhile now, but @wyattjohnston's summer fic exchange 2024 inspired me to really revive it. @callsign-denmark, this is for you, my friend. i hope you enjoy it!

~*~*~

“Chrissy!”

Christina turns around from where she’s restocking ice packs in the training room. She nods at the smiley Russian. “Svech.”

He walks to her and swings an arm around her shoulder in a friendly side-hug. “Good summer?”

“It was alright,” her summer back home in the Delaware suburbs wasn’t anything to write home to. And Andrei Svechnikov is technically a coworker who doesn’t need to know everything. “Good to be back though.” 

“I know what you mean,” he says. Andrei leans back against one of the treatment tables. “You graduated, right? College?”

She blinks. When did she ever mention that to him last season? “I did. Back in May. The week after playoffs ended.”

“Congratulations.”

She smiles genuinely, turning to face him completely. “Thank you. Did you need something?”

“Nope,” he says with a smile that somehow still stuns Christina even after a season of seeing it so much. “I just wanted to say hi and welcome back.”

“Well, welcome back to you too.” As he’s turning away to go to fitness testing, she calls out. “Hey! Come back after you’re done. Should check on the knee before you go home.”

He halts, turning back around with a raised eyebrow. “Is that part of my regimen to get back to playing?”

“Has Doug told you?”

“Told me what?”

Clearly not then. Trust her boss, who’s lovely but also like a purposefully annoying father, to leave it to her to break the news. “They put me in charge of you this season.”

“Me?”

“Well, your recovery. And not completely. Obviously, Doug will still have final say. But if anything’s going on, I’m your person. Especially as you’re getting back into it.”

“Oh?” Andrei smirks and Christina refuses to be affected by it. 

“Is that gonna be a problem?”

He shakes his head slowly. “Of course not. I trust you.”

“Then I better see you before you leave today.”

“Deal.” He shoots her one last smile. “Bye Chrissy.”

“See you later, Svech.” Andrei brushes shoulders with Brady and they exchange excited greetings. She waits until Andrei leaves the room and smiles. “What can I do for you, Brady?”

“Got any tape?”

“Plenty.” She heads to the cabinet. “Take a seat.”

Christina Hawthorne feels very fortunate to even be back in this training room. After a co-op with the Hurricanes last season with their athletic training team, she graduated from UNC Chapel Hill in the spring. They liked her enough to offer her a position on the team for this season while she prepares for her certification test in January. They’re putting an immense amount of trust in her, and she couldn’t be more grateful. 

She loves the guys, so it’s nice to see that they seem to like her enough to keep her around. 

When she has a few free minutes with no players trailing into the training room, she wanders over to the gym. She may have had dreams to be a professional ballerina when she was very young, but actually working with professional athletes everyday is definitely a humbling experience. 

She’s sure to stay out of the way as the players are getting tested, leaning against the wall and sorta zoning out. She takes note of Andrei’s visible frustration at himself for not getting some of the results he wants. She knows that he won’t be ready for the first few games, and he knows too. But she’s sure he’s not happy about it. 

As promised, Andrei does come back to the training room after his fitness tests. She wrinkles her nose as Sebastian ruffles her dyed blonde hair in thanks for helping him stretch out before he leaves. She brushes her fingers through her hair to try and tame it. “Oh good, you’re back.”

“I promised, no?” He takes a seat on the table and puts his leg up. 

“How did today go?”

He huffs. “Fine.”

She presses her thumb against a particular part of his knee and he hisses. She immediately stops and does the same to the other side. No reaction there. She quickly turns to scribble something down in her notes. “I know this is annoying. But you’ll be back on the ice soon.”

“Not frustrated at you,” Andrei says, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Just myself.”

“Don’t be,” Christina says, gesturing for him to lie down. “Have you been doing the stretches you’re supposed to be doing?”

“How do you know what I’m supposed to be doing?”

“Because I look over your notes and your trainers and the medical staff are in constant contact.”

He chuckles. “Right. Yes, I have been.”

“You lying to me?”

“Never.”

She bends his knee against his chest. “Then believe me. You’ll be back on the ice soon.”

“Okay,” he replies simply. “I believe you.” 

She twists slightly. “Any pain?”

“No.” 

Christina grins, then twists it the other way. “How about now?”

“No.”

“Music to my ears,” she gestures for him to sit up. “You’re good to go.”

“You sure?”

“Unless there’s something else you want me to look at.”

He shakes his head. “No. I think I’m good.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gets up and flashes her a smile. “See you, Chrissy. Thanks. As always.”

She waves him off. “Just doing my job. Have a good night.”

…..

College was hard, but having a full-time job while trying to study for a certification is a whole new game. Trying to fit in study time while doing a job that already has weird hours is also another thing. Christina’s lucky that the athletic training and medical team understands and lets her study when the players are on the ice or she’s not needed. She even has her own little table in the trainers’ office this year, where she’s often found pooling over textbooks and scribbling notes. 

Training camp and pre-season is a chaotic time for a lot of reasons. There’s more players to keep track of and people are dusting off their rust. No one ever wants to get hurt of course, but especially not during pre-season. Which means everyone is also taking extra precautions. With new faces comes new routines and an adjustment period. 

Christina has a few moments of quiet, the last pre-season game occurring later that evening against Nashville. Players aren’t coming into the arena for at least another hour, and she pours over a chapter in her textbook. She has a pink highlighter in her mouth and a blue one in her hand when someone knocks on the wall. 

She looks up to see Andrei, who looks amused. “Sorry. Are you busy?”

She spits out the highlighter gracefully and caps them both. “Not at all. What’s up?”

“Are you sure?” He nods over to her books. “You look busy.”

“What’s up, Svech?” She repeats. 

He takes the hint. “Can you stretch out my hamstring?”

“Is it-”

“No. It’s not bad enough to need Doug. Just a little tight. And you said I should go to you whenever I need something.”

She stands up as they both head into the training room. “I did say that, yes. Which one?” He points at his right hamstring and she starts. 

“What were you doing earlier? With the books?”

“I’m taking a certification exam in January.”

“For what?”

“To become an official athletic trainer.”

“You’re not one already?”

“I am not,” she says. “Don’t worry. That’s why Doug and the rest of the team do all the nitty-gritty stuff.”

“I’m surprised,” Andrei says. “I thought you were, like, official. You seem to know everything.”

She chuckles, feeling a knot and focusing on that area. “That’s kind of you. I definitely don’t though.” She sees his breath hitch and grimaces. “Sorry. Just a few more seconds.”

“It’s your job,” he says in a strained voice. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“Well, I still feel bad when my job elicits pain in others,” she says. After two minutes, she nods. “Need more?”

He moves his leg around and shakes his head. “I think I’m good. Thanks.”

“Of course.” She looks at the clock hanging up on the wall and furrows her eyebrows. “You’re in early.”

Andrei shrugs. “I like to come in early.”

“I know,” the right side of her lip quirks up as tilts her head to the side. “This is really early though, even for you.”

“Well, you’re in too,” he says. “So why can’t I be?”

She chuckles. “I’m not saying you can’t, Svech. I’m just saying I didn’t expect to be seeing any hockey player for at least another hour.”

“Was feeling too restless at home,” Andrei says. 

She suddenly gets an idea. “Are you busy right now? Am I keeping you from anything?”

Ha shakes his head, “Not at all.”

“Wanna help me study?”

“I don’t know if I can be much help.” Nonetheless, he follows her back into the offices. 

She pulls out a chair for him to sit in and opens her textbook back up. “I study best when I can talk to someone and describe a concept or topic and they tell me it makes sense. I would be a shitty athletic trainer if I can’t tell the athlete what I’m doing.”

“So all I have to do is sit here and listen?”

“And ask questions if I’m not making any sense,” she bites her lip. “Again, if you have other places to be, I get it. This isn’t the most interesting stuff but-”

“No, no.” He assures before smiling widely. She has an urge to poke her finger in his dimple. “I’d love to help.”

Christina smiles in satisfaction as she flips through her pages. Andrei sits back and makes himself comfortable. 

Yeah, she’s glad to be back. 

…..

Every year, the players, coaches and staff head out to a bar in downtown Raleigh before the start of the first regular season game. It’s to stir up excitement and camaraderie before the season starts. Christina couldn’t make it last year because she had class, but as she’s looking at herself in the mirror —a fitted white t-shirt under a green leather jacket she rarely gets to wear that her sister bought her for Christmas and light washed flare jeans — she tells herself to call the damn Uber before she backs out. 

It’s not that she doesn’t like her coworkers. She really likes them, actually. But seeing them outside of work in a social situation where she could make a fool of herself is a bit anxiety-inducing. 

Once she thanks her Uber driver, she steps out into the swanky rooftop bar that has her tapping her foot as she waits for the elevator. Once she steps up, it’s easy to find the Canes crew, various familiar faces crowded around a specific area of the spacious rooftop. Taylor, the head of social content, who Christina’s become good friends with, sees her first and waves her over, and soon Christina is enveloped in exciting chatter. Taylor, the saint they are, pushes a White Russian, Christina’s favorite drink, in her hands. 

Christina can’t feel too bad. The organization is heading the bill tonight and she’s gonna milk that for all it’s worth. 

A bit later, when she’s on her third drink of the night and feeling comfortably tipsy observing the people around her, she feels a tap on her shoulder. She turns around in her stool and immediately beams. 

“Andrei!”

Andrei laughs and returns Christina’s enthusiastic hug before he leans his hip against the bar counter. “Hey Chrissy. You having fun?”

“Plenty.” She giggles. “Especially now that you’re here.”

Maybe it’s her tipsy self or the bar lighting, but she swears his cheeks become redder. Pair that with his button up shirt that has the top buttons undone and a pair of dark jeans and Christina needs to chill. “I’ve been trying to get to you all night,” he says. “You’re a popular woman. I saw Coach laughing at your jokes.”

She shrugs nonchalantly, leaning her chin on her palm. “I’m a funny gal, what can I say?”

“A confident one too,” he says, nodding to her empty glass. “What are you drinking?”

“You do know that the tab is on the Canes tonight, right? You don’t need to butter me up with drinks.”

Andrei rolls his eyes playfully and Christina bursts out into giggles. “I’m not trying to..butter you up? What does that even mean?”

“Like, uh, flatter me or whatever to get something. Like you’re doing something only hoping that you’ll get something out of it.”

“I’m definitely not trying to do that. I’m just trying to be nice. So what are you drinking?”

She offers a toothy grin. “A White Russian, please.” She pokes his shoulder. “Kinda like you, I guess.” Andrei snorts before waving down the bartender to order her drink. She squints at the drink in his hand. “Just a beer?”

“Don’t feel like getting too drunk tonight.”

“How responsible of you.”

He smiles, and Christina is suddenly overcome by the urge to kiss him. But she shakes her head and refocuses back on whatever he’s saying. He leans in closer to hear her response and she has to swallow roughly so her voice doesn’t crack. 

Talking with Andrei is always so seamless. The conversation may shift between three different topics in two minutes but it feels natural. Christina never has an urge to overthink when she’s talking with Andrei. He’s funny and sweet and makes her feel like she’s actually being listened to. 

In a world where she’s surrounded by men on a daily basis, it’s stupidly rare to feel as heard as she does whenever she speaks to the star winger of the Carolina Hurricanes. 

After she finishes her drink, she realizes she should probably start thinking about going home. They all technically have work tomorrow, even if it’s a later start, and people are starting to filter out, having come by to say goodbye to the both of them in the last 10 minutes. 

She starts to stand up and immediately sways on her feet. “Woah,” Andrei says, immediately putting a hand on her waist to steady her. “Slowly.”

“I’m fine,” Christina says, slapping his hand but ultimately grabbing onto his wrist as she steadies herself. “I should probably get going.”

Andrei’s eyebrows furrow. “You didn’t drive here, right?”

Christina snorts, “Of course not. I took an Uber.”

“Where do you live?”

“The Six Forks area.”

He pinches their empty glasses and puts them on the bar counter, nodding in thanks to the bartender. “You’re on my way home. I drive you.”

“Where do you live?”

“North Hills.”

She narrows her eyes. “I’m not that drunk to know that that’s definitely not on your way. You’d be overshooting.”

“I don’t care. It’s late, and I’d feel more comfortable if I just drove you home rather than you taking an Uber.”

“Andrei.” She deadpans. “I’m a grown woman. I can get home myself.”

“I know. But just let me drive you. Please.”

She huffs. “Fine. Thank you.”

He grins, “Anytime. Let’s say goodbye to everyone and then we head out.” Christina stumbles again and his hand is immediately back on her waist. “Slowly,” he repeats. 

“I’m fine,” she repeats. 

After they both say goodbye to everyone who’s still at the bar (Taylor eyes her with a smirk, gaze shifting between Christina’s eyes and Andrei’s hand that’s hovering over her back. Christina just rolls her eyes and discreetly flips them off), Andrei leads her to the parking lot. 

Christina’s nose crinkles at the sight of the lamborghini as Andrei unlocks it. “I forgot you drive this.”

Andrei lets out a loud laugh before opening the passenger door. “Don’t worry. I drive extra safe with you in the car.”

“Thanks,” she mutters, climbing in. She’s heard about his questionable driving. She hopes she doesn’t regret this. 

The engine roars to life and Christina rolls her eyes at the sound. Andrei just shoots her a smile before backing out of the spot. He unlocks his phone and hands it to her. “Put in your address.”

She hums, typing it in before putting his phone in the center console. She closes her eyes for a few seconds, before turning her head so that she’s facing him, leaning on the headrest. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

“You’re telling me you don’t like me as your personal Uber?” Andrei asks. She watches as he turns the wheel with one hand and rests his other hand on the center console shift. “You feel okay? I can open a window if you need.”

“I’m okay, Svech. Just don’t accelerate like a mad man.”

He laughs and she can’t help but giggle along. “I won’t. Promise,” he says. “You like to talk when you’re drunk.”

“Not drunk,” she mutters. 

Andrei’s hum blends in with the engine. “Sure.”

“Not drunk,” she repeats. “Especially not in front of you all. That would be unprofessional.”

“Why you afraid of being unprofessional? The staff loves you. The team loves you.”

“I’ve worked hard to get here,” she says, forcing her eyes back open so she doesn’t fall asleep. “But the fact that I got this job in the first place is a blessing. I’m not gonna do anything to fuck it up.”

He nods. She closes her eyes. He gently jostles her awake when they’re parked in front of her apartment. He insists on walking her up to the door, and she leaves him with another ‘thank you,’ a tight hug and a sleepy smile. 

He doesn’t move his feet until after a minute of staring at her front door.

…..

Opening night is always so thrilling. Of any sport. Christina has to tell herself to stop grinning so widely when the team is getting announced, making sweater paws with a Hurricanes crewneck she found on Etsy. She rocks back and forth in the tunnel, trying to stay out of everyone’s way on the side while simultaneously trying to see the ice and crowd. 

Once the game is about to begin and the arena lights come back on, Christina shakes her head at herself to focus. It’s go-time. Like last year, she’s not with Doug on the bench — the day she gets on the bench will be the day her heart rate explodes — but she’s closeby in the tunnel or in the training room, making sure everything’s all good and she’s not needed. 

“Hey.”

She turns to see Andrei, in his gray plaid game day suit coming from the bench where he was during player introductions. She smiles, “Hi. Happy season opener.”

“Happy season opener.” He grins. “The red earrings are back.”

Christina automatically reaches to touch the red rose earrings she has on tonight. She puts on a red pair of earrings every game day, whether its a flower, a cool design or ruby studs.

It’s something she just does for fun. For herself. She’s surprised that Andrei has noticed. 

“You heading up to the press box?”

“Yeah.”

They’re interrupted by Bob, the head equipment manager, greeting them with a grin “Miss you out there, Svech.”

“Soon,” Andrei promises. 

Bob turns to her with a playful raise of his eyebrow. “That true, Chrissy?”

Christina grins. “That depends on him,” she jokes. “No, he should be good to go soon. Let me know if you need any help tonight..”

Bob waves her away. “Of course. Can always count on you. See you both later,” He then heads back to the bench. 

She takes one last look at the bench to see if anyone needs anything. No one does. She turns back to Andrei. “Thanks again for driving me home last week.”

“Of course. Did you wake up okay?”

“I don’t get hungover.”

“Lucky you.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Are you heading on the road trip after this?”

“I’m not, actually. I should be on all the other ones though.”

“Why not this one?”

She chuckles. “Funnily enough, because of you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s my job. I also think it’s because it’s early in the season so I’m not really needed yet. Hopefully.” She grimaces, “I just jinxed it, didn’t I?”

Andrei laughs, while nodding a greeting at one of the assistant coaches passing by. “Maybe. I feel bad you can’t go on the road, though.”

“There'll be plenty of other chances. You can make it up to me by helping me study again,” she jokes. 

“I will do it,” he says seriously. 

“I was kidding.”

“I will do it,” he repeats and clears his throat. “I should head up.”

She nods. “Enjoy watching from above.”

“Thanks. I mean it. I will help you study while you put me through painful stretches.”

“The stretches shouldn’t be that painful otherwise you’re not ready to go,” she admonishes. She internally wants to cringe at her tone switch, but she can’t help it. 

Luckily, he just grins, a twinkle in his eye. “I know, I know. I’m teasing.”

She rolls her eyes. “Leave. I have work to do.”

He laughs, “See you later, Chrissy.”

…..

Last year, when she still had school, she couldn’t go on road trips either — until it came to the playoffs. So she knows what it’s like to come to the rink when no one’s really around. 

Christina’s planning just to come in for a few hours in the morning to gather her own notes and to organize a few things. Also, she might study for a bit, wanting a different environment than her apartment. Andrei also texted her — she got the number of every single player at the start of the season — saying that he’s planning to come in to work on some things with Steven, one of the other assistant athletic trainers who’s also staying behind this road trip. 

She taps her ID to get in, sipping her iced latte as she strolls down the hallway. She smiles and nods in greeting to a few staff members who she passes. Heading into the office, she sets her stuff down and immediately pulls out some of her notes, along with going through notes that the team has been sending on their road trip. 

She hears Andrei before she sees him, the sound of him and Steven talking echoing through the hallway. They come to the office and she gives them both a wave. 

“Good morning.”

Andrei and Steven both grin. “Morning,” they respond in unison. 

“Did you get Doug’s notes last night?” Steven asks. 

“Yeah. I’m in the middle of putting them in.”

“Amazing. Thank you.” Steven pats Andrei on the shoulder. “You’re all set this morning, Svech. Just remember what I said.”

Andrei nods as Steven leaves the room. “Thanks, Steve.” Steve puts his hand up in acknowledgement. Andrei pulls over a chair and sits down. She saves her work. He looks at the pair of old pointe shoes on her desk that she had just remembered to bring in. “What are those?”

“Old pointe shoes.”

“Well, yeah. I know what they are. Are they yours?”

She goes to play with one of the fraying ribbons. “They are. These are the last pair I wore before I left for college. I brought them in as something to put on my desk.”

“I didn’t know you danced.”

“Well, you don’t know that much about me.”

A pause, before the most beautiful smile spreads across Andrei’s face. “What makes this pair so special?”

Christina smiles bittersweetly. “I was pretty good. Like, went to international competitions good. Could’ve maybe done it for a living good. And I loved it so much. But I fucked up my ankle pretty badly when I was 15 and was never the same after that. I still danced and I made a full recovery, but, you know. At my dance studio, every graduating senior got to perform a solo at the yearly showcase and I did mine on pointe. It was a big moment for me.”

“And you did it in those shoes.”

She nods. “Yup.”

“Was professional dancer the first dream?”

“Yes and no. I think as I got older I realized I had other dreams and wanted to do other things. That didn’t fully sink into me until the injury. But it would’ve been cool, you know, be on a stage for a living.”

“Do you still dance?”

“When I can. UNC didn’t have a ballet company, so I tried to take classes out here in Raleigh. I’m a bit too busy these days, but I’d like to get back in a class at some point.”

Andrei hums, reaching to pick up a shoe. He hesitates, looking at her for permission and she nods at him to go ahead. “I just know you’re a beautiful dancer.”

She tries not to blush. But from the knowing glint in his eye, she knows she fails. He places the pointe shoe carefully back on her desk and she looks at the well-worn satin briefly, wondering what that life could’ve been like for her. 

But then her attention is brought back to Andrei as he asks a question relating to his recovery, and Christina knows she’s right where she wants to be. 

…..

The next day, when she’s not scheduled to go into work, she still somehow sees Andrei. 

Christina has just finished grabbing lunch with a college friend and decides to wander into a nearby cafe, its flowery and vine covered entrance enticing her. With a book in her tote bag and taste buds that always welcome coffee, she orders a latte and perches herself at a table by the window. 

She’s staring out the window lost in her own world when she hears his name being called out by the barista. She whips her head towards the counter. There’s not a lot of people you run into in Raleigh named Andrei. Before she knows it, she makes eye contact with him. She hates that he literally lights up before briskly walking over to her. 

A backwards cap and a gray henley has never looked so good before. It’s almost infuriating. 

He stops abruptly in front of her table, right hand bracing the chair across from her and left hand holding his coffee. “Are you waiting for someone?”

“Not at all.” She grins as he sits down. “Even on my off days, I can’t escape.”

Andre laughs, putting his coffee down on the table. “I come here all the time but I never see you here before.”

“I was in the area meeting up for lunch with a friend and the flowers outside convinced me,” she says. “Now that I know this is your spot, I’ll avoid it.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t do that.” He nods to her open book. “Reading?”

“Trying. Been trying to read a bit more because I never had time in college.”

“Did you like college?”

Christina smiles. “I did. Part of it was interrupted by the pandemic, but even then, I had a great time.”

“Are you from Raleigh?”

“No, I’m not. I grew up in Delaware, and my family’s all still there.” 

“Where’s that?”

She chuckles. “A small state around Maryland, Pennsylvania and New Jersey. The closest NHL teams would be the Caps and Flyers, probably. But my family are more football fans. Dad loves the Eagles.”

“So no hockey?”

“Not really. I honestly didn’t really get into hockey until working with the Canes.”

“So now what? You’re a Canes fan?”

“Because I work for them, sure. And you guys aren’t so bad off the ice either.”

Andrei laughs and it’s such a delightful sound. She puts her chin on her palm and listens as he continues talking.

She was hoping not to have to talk to a single person for the rest of the day. She ends up at that cafe with Andrei for over an hour.

…..

Christina grimaces at her TV as she watches the game end, the Hurricanes now on a three game losing streak. It’s still early in the season, but no one likes losing. She glances at her phone as it buzzes, knowing it’s a text from Andrei. They’ve been texting sporadically all night about the game that he’s also watching in his own home. He hasn’t outright said it to her, but she imagines it’s frustrating for him because he can’t be out on the ice with his teammates. 

Christina looks at his response with a quiet laugh, shoots back a text and tosses her phone a few feet away from her with a deep breath. 

The thing is, when she lets herself really think about it, her and Andrei’s professional relationship from the start has always been different compared to her relationship with the other players. From the first time she introduced herself and saw his smile, she knew this was gonna be tough. 

The athlete part of him doesn’t faze her — she’s danced with and been taught by world renowned ballerinas and she worked in the training room of various teams at UNC. It was his ingenuity and kindness that reeled her in. The accented voice paired with his ability to make things look so easy when she knows it’s anything but, always with a smile on his face. 

Christina would be lying to herself if she says she hasn’t ever considered her and Andrei as…more. She’d be an idiot not to. Obviously, she knows Andrei is incredibly handsome. She’s known that from the very first time she saw him in the training room last season. And it doesn’t help that he’s also so nice with no pretense. Nice just to be nice. 

But it would never happen. Could never happen. He has the entire city of Raleigh falling at his feet and she works with him. 

One night when she was a bit too wine tipsy in her dorm last year, she pulled out the contract she had signed and found the tiny section that addressed romantic relationships among “any members of the Carolina Hurricanes organization” and found some super vague shit basically saying that it was okay in most instances. Which it is. One of their assistant coaches is married to the head of the PR department. 

But she has an inkling that players are a whole different subclause. 

So while they developed a good rapport last season, Christina purposefully kept her distance a bit, sparing little details about her own life and always turning it back to him. To be fair, she was careful around everyone last season, not wanting to get in the way and just wide-eyed overall. But now she’s (hopefully) gonna be around for a bit and will try to let her personality shine a bit more. Push herself to be more casual and comfortable with the staff and team. 

Like texting Andrei about things that aren’t related to his recovery. 

It started with Andrei texting something funny about one of the pregame photos of Brady that had been tweeted. His comment made Christina snort out her tea as she quickly replied back. It’s not like they’re texting often, but it always puts a smile on her face whenever his name pops up on her phone. 

She knows she needs to be careful. But before anything else, she’s just glad to have another new friend. Someone at work she’s comfortable enough to joke around with. 

That’s enough for her. 

…..

Andrei’s long-waited season debut has the fans, his teammates and the whole staff excited. But no one’s more excited than Andrei himself, who’s bouncing around all day from the moment he walks in for his daily check-in.

As she watches him skate around for warmups, she grins at his infectious happiness. He picks up a water bottle and squirts water on her when he comes back to the bench for a moment and she wants to flip him off so badly. She totally would if there weren’t cameras around and if also wasn’t, you know, unprofessional. He’s lucky she’s wearing a black sweater today. Jordan reaches to pull on the ribbon in her hair and that’s when she makes her way off the bench, causing Doug and the other staff to laugh. 

Once the game starts, she does grimace a bit as she’s watching footage of the game from the training room when she sees Andrei go in for a heavy hit. She hears the cheers from the fans and she gets it, but he’s literally just coming off a season ending injury. Yes, he’s a professional athlete, but she’s (almost) a certified athletic trainer. 

They win 3-0 and everyone’s pumped. She’s busy documenting notes as the athletes start leaving the arena. Andrei, as instructed, comes in and she makes sure everything’s okay with his knee. 

“Hey,” she calls out before he leaves. He turns back around with an expectant smile. She beams. “Good game. Glad to have you back.”

“Thank you,” he says with a grin. “Good to be back.”

…..

When you work in such a team centered environment, there’s always someone around. Always someone to talk to and joke around with. She loves it. The collaboration of the work she does is probably her favorite part. 

But she also loves time by herself. So she vows to herself that on every road trip, after some studying, she’ll take the time to explore wherever she is by herself. Whether it’s simply grabbing a coffee or walking around whatever city they’re in or just sitting outside, she’ll carve out some time for herself, while exploring cities that she’s never been to.

The first mini road trip she goes on is to Philadelphia and New York. In Philadelphia, she heads to the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Her younger sister Layla is a graphic design major at Carnegie Mellon so she’s filtered some of her love and knowledge to Christina. With her airpods in, she wanders through the exhibits on her own. 

That’s another thing about post-grad. Learning how to do things alone. 

New York has a lot more options. She only has one full day she isn’t working and another half day. During the full day when she’s actually in the city, she meets up with a friend from high school for a nice walk around Brooklyn before dinner. On the half day, after morning skate in Long Island, she wants to just people watch outside for a few hours on a weirdly warm day for November. 

The elevator doors open and Andrei comes walking out, looking down at his phone. When he looks up, a grin spreads across his face and he locks his phone. “Hi Chrissy.”

She nods. “Svech.” The elevator doors close. That’s fine. She’ll catch the next one. “Where’d you just come back from?”

“Just grabbed some lunch with the guys after practice. Where you off to?”

“Honestly, probably also gonna grab a coffee and then sit outside by the water and just daydream. I brought a book, but we’ll see if I’m in the mood.”

Andrei laughs. “Sounds like a great day.”

It is her alone time, but she asks anyways. “Would you like to join?”

His eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Oh. I don’t want to intrude or-”

“You wouldn’t be. I’m asking you.”

“Oh. Well, um, yeah, then. Sure. Give me a minute to use the bathroom?”

“Take your time.” He shoots her a thankful smile as he briskly walks to his room while she waits by the elevators, shifting on her feet. A few minutes later, he comes back out, this time with a backwards hat on. He shoves his hands in his off-white sweatshirt and she presses the elevator button, purposefully not looking at him.

There’s something about a backwards hat. It’s actually really annoying how attractive it is.

“How’s your first road trip been?”

Christina smiles as they step into the elevator. “Good. Went to an art museum in Philly. Saw a college friend in Brooklyn and just walked around the city. The rest of the time I’ve been with you guys.”

“You like art?”

“A bit. My sister’s studying graphic design, so her love for it has bleeded into my life.”

“That’s sweet. Are you two close?”

“Yeah. I don’t know if we’re as close as you and your brother though.” She teases, and she swears she sees his cheeks tinge pink as they walk out of the elevator and out of the hotel. “She’s much cooler than I am, just started her second year at Carnegie Mellon. I was actually just texting her because she’s trying to figure out flights to Raleigh for Thanksgiving.”

“She’s coming down?”

“Yup,” they start wandering to the nearby park. “Usually, we’d go back home to Delaware. But since we have games the day before and after and they’re at home, they’re all coming down to me. First Thanksgiving in Raleigh. They’ll probably come to a game or two.”

“That’s really nice.”

“How about you? Is your mom or dad coming to visit anytime soon?”

“Not sure yet, with Geno now back in Russia. My mom was mainly here to keep me company when I was injured. I’m sure you’ll get to meet her soon though.”

They see a cafe ahead of them and she suggests they pop in to grab something. He opens the door for her and also pays for her, which is really annoying and she takes note of his coffee order so that she can get him back once they’re home. Once they receive their coffees, they’re back outside and in the park, sitting and people watching while petting the dogs that occasionally come up to them.

“Do you miss dancing? Like, at the level you were before getting injured?”

A sad smile automatically appears on her face. “All the time. But it’s changed. It used to be more painful and frustrating to think about. Now it’s more of looking back at the good memories.”

“My grandma used to dance as well. She took my brother and I to a ballet in Moscow once. I honestly don’t remember much of it. I was too young.”

Christina chuckles. “Yeah, it’s not for everyone.” She lets out a deep breath. “God, I haven’t seen a ballet in ages.”

“Can I ask how bad your injury was?”

“A recurring stress fracture that required surgery,” she says. “I don’t know if they could ever actually diagnose it officially because it was so fucked up. Or maybe I just block it out of my brain because it was such a painful time.”

“Even after a full recovery, there was no chance to go on as intensely as before?”

“There might’ve been. But I made the choice that I didn’t want my ankles wearing down on me by 25 and like I said, I had other dreams.”

“That must’ve been a hard decision to make.”

Christina swallows. It’s been awhile since she’s talked about this with anyone. “It was. I was heartbroken, honestly. It just felt like my life was over, you know? Obviously, it wasn’t. But I didn’t know that at 15. But if that hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have thought about going the athletic training route, and in a way, what I’m doing now connects to my dance background, so I’m happy where I am now.”

His eyes light up with hope. “Do you have a video of you dancing?”

She laughs. “I actually do.” She gets her phone out and searches for a particular video. “This was around a year ago. A little across the floor combo we were doing in a class.” She hands him her phone and looks over his shoulder to watch with him. It’s a short video, only about 20 seconds long, but it combines a bit of everything — waltz, pirouettes, leaps and footwork. 

He replays it again. She has no idea what to make of that. “I was right.”

“Hm?”

“You’re a beautiful dancer.”

“Oh. That’s kind of you. Thank you.”

“I mean it,” he says. “You have beautiful…lines? Is that the right word?”

“Yeah, actually.” He gives her a triumphant smile and she can’t help but laugh. “Thank you. That's really sweet. I appreciate it.”

He watches the video again. She stares at the side of his face, trying to see what he’s seeing. She can’t quite place it. The only thing she can place is her faster than normal heart rate.

…..

A loss against the Panthers at their barn, a win against Tampa on their ice the next day and then a loss against Philly at home. Andrei still hasn’t recorded his own goal, and Christina knows it’s eating him alive. 

It’s funny, because he’s trying not to let it show, especially in front of media. But Christina knows better, especially when he starts pushing himself on the ice even more. 

She’s not usually on the bench during morning skates. More often than not, she’s in the training room or her office, studying or doing miscellaneous tasks until players file in during or after practice for various needs. But once in awhile, she likes to walk out to the ice. Today, she’s taking her studying out there to see if the crispness of the air and the sounds of hockey keep her focused. 

She’s reading over a passage in her textbook when she sees a shadow fall over the page. She looks up to see Andrei drinking some water. 

“If you spray water on this book, you’re paying for another one,” she warns. 

“Of course,” he says with an easy smile. 

“I hope you’ve been stretching out your knee,” she says. “With how hard you’re going at during practice.”

“How do you know how hard I’m going in practice?”

“It’s part of my job,” she responds dryly, backing away and glaring at Seth as he reaches out to mess up her hair. 

“Coming out here to study now?” Andrei asks.

She shrugs. “Trying something new.”

“Is it working?”

“It was,” she says pointedly. 

Brady skates to a stop in front of them and laughs. “That’s her telling us to stop annoying her.”

“You could never annoy me, Skjeisy.” Christina grins. 

Andrei pouts. “What does Skjeisy have that I don’t?”

“The most beautiful smile,” she grins charmingly. Andrei playfully narrows his eyes and Brady shoots her a wink. No one’s flirting. Christina’s met Gracia a few times and those two childhood friends are very in love with each other. But it’s worth it to see Andrei squeeze water out of his water bottle in Brady’s face. 

“When’s your exam again?” Brady asks.

“January 7.”

“That’s soon.”

She sighs, staring down at her book. “Don’t remind me.”

“You’re gonna be great,” Andrei assures her. 

“Sure, if you all actually practice and leave me to study.” As if on cue, a whistle is blown and Christina waves her hand at them. “Shoo. If Rod blames me for distracting you, I’ll be out of a job.”

She takes some notes for a few more minutes before giving up and closing her books. She puts her elbows on her knees, resting her chin on the palms of her hands as she watches them focus on winning board battles and protecting the puck. Practice is more intense than usual today as Christina loses herself in the focused energy in the air, eyes tracking the puck and the players and how they’re positioning themselves around the puck. She almost laughs at herself at how hockey she sounds. Her football loving uncle would be proud and a bit confused. 

Practice is over, and Christina decides to stay on the bench until everyone clears the tunnel, knowing that if any players need treatment, Doug has it. He would text her a random emoji if he needed her anyways. Last game, he took a liking to the red-headed fairy. 

She squints at Andrei, who’s the only player on the ice now, as he takes shot after shot from the blue line. She just observes him and the determined look on his face, the smoothness in his shot. 

As if he can feel eyes on him, he turns around and laughs, before gathering the pucks and skating over to her. “Stalking me?”

“Observing,” she corrects. “How do you feel? Physically?”

“Good.”

“Good,” she says. “You look good.”

“Oh?”

She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.” She trails behind him as they head to the trainers room. “Don’t forget. Doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”

“I swear you’re my personal calendar.”

“That’s actually my second job” she says flatly, a smile peeking out after he grins at her. “Go get your protein shake or whatever disgusting thing you like to drink.”

“Sassy today.”

“I want to go home,” she deadpans. “I’ve been up since 5 a.m.”

To his credit, he looks concerned. “Why so early?”

“Studying.”

“Oh,” he says softly. “Well, make sure you sleep. Sleep is important.”

She has to chuckle. “Thanks Svechy. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He flicks his hand. “Go home.”

“I don’t think you have the authority to tell me that. You’re not my boss.”

“But I am,” they both turn to see Doug peeking out of a doorway. “Get out of here, Chris.”

She narrows her eyes playfully. “You schemers.” 

“Go sleep,” Andrei says, pulling at her ponytail lightly. She whacks his hand away. 

The last thing she sees as she walks into her office is his smirk. 

….

The day before Thanksgiving, she’s preoccupied with her parents and sister flying in for the first half of the day. She picks them up from the airport and takes them all to one of her favorite lunch spots before she has to head to work and they go sightseeing on their own. She offered to get them tickets for the game against Edmonton, but they waved her off. They’ll enjoy their time at a game on Sunday. 

Thanksgiving morning is peaceful, with the Macy’s Parade on the TV as everyone is just relaxing. In the afternoon, as Christina and her mom are taking charge of dinner, someone’s knocking on her apartment door. Immediately, Christina is confused. She’s almost positive her dad and Aimee grabbed her keys before heading out for a quick walk. She calls out a “coming” as the person knocks again. 

“Andrei?” 

He shifts from side to side, flashing a quick but genuine smile. He looks extra cozy in a brown sweatshirt and a backwards hat. “Hi Chrissy. Happy Thanksgiving. I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“Not at all. Happy Thanksgiving. What are you-what’s up?” 

He holds out a cake container. “Uh, I’m heading to Staalsy’s for Thanksgiving at their place, and I made ptichye moloko, which is a cake my mom makes for me back home in Russia. I made two. I was wondering if you wanted the other?” 

Her mouth drops open. “Oh, Andrei. That’s…you didn’t need to do that.” 

“I wanted to,” he replies. “And honestly, I hope it’s good. It’s my first time making it and I had to call my mom for help. I made too much batter so, two cakes.” 

She laughs, propping her hip against the doorframe, easy smile on her face. “I bet it’s delicious. Thank you. You’re so-you really didn’t have to do this.” 

Andrei shakes his head. “I wanted to-“

“Honey?” Marianne’s voice calls out from the kitchen. “Who’s at the door?” She doesn’t bother waiting for an answer before appearing. 

Christina internally sighs. “Andrei, this is my mom Marianne. Mom, this is Andrei. He’s one of the guys on the team.” 

Andrei balances the cake on one hand while reaching out to shake Marianne’s hand with the other, easygoing smile on his face. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Hawthorne. I apologize for showing up without warning.” 

“Oh, no apology necessary!” Marianne smiles, and Christina can tell immediately that her mother is charmed. She wants to roll her eyes. “Are you staying for dinner? You’re more than welcome.” 

Andrei shakes his head. “No, though thank you for the offer. I’m on the way to our captain’s house. I just wanted to stop by and drop this off.” 

Marianne takes the cake from his hands with a delighted smile. “That’s so sweet of you.” 

“He made it himself,” Christina chimes in, smirking in his direction. “Hopefully it doesn’t poison us.” 

Andrei laughs. “Hopefully.” 

The door opens again, and her dad and sister are back from their walk around the block. Christina swallows. Guess he’s meeting the whole family today. 

“Andrei, this is my dad Mark and my sister Aimee. Father and Aimee, this is-“ 

“Andrei Svechnikov,” her dad finishes for her. He and Andrei shake hands and a weird feeling appears in her stomach. “I watch the Canes games from time to time.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” He then turns to Aimee and shakes her hand with a small smile. “You too, Aimee. Your sister talks about you all the time.” 

Aimee shoots her sister a look. Christina telepathically tells her to shut up. “Does she really?”

“She does. All good things.”

“It’s good to see you back on the ice again,” Mark says. “How’s the knee?” 

“Knee is good,” Andrei says, before casting a smile in her direction. “All thanks to Chrissy here.” 

“He’s lying,” she deadpans. “I just make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” 

“Are you staying for dinner?” Aimee asks with a hopeful look.

Christina shakes her head. “I wouldn’t subject him to that. He’s going to Captain Staalsy’s.” 

“Lame,” Aimee says. Christina elbows her. 

“Chrissy mentioned you all were coming to a game?” Andrei asks. 

“Yup. We’ll be going Sunday.” 

“Have you ever been to a Canes game?” Mark shakes his head. Andrei grins. Christina wants to poke his dimple. “Well, hopefully we put on a good show.” 

She snorts. “Alright, Andrei. Better leave before Dad starts grilling you on the powerplay.” Expectedly, Andrei’s eyes light up. He turns to her as she rolls her eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna stay for dinner?” Marianne asks. 

Andrei grins. “I’m sure. Thank you though.” He looks back at Christina. “See you tomorrow?” 

“Bright and early.”

He turns back to her family with a warm smile. “It was nice to meet you all.” 

Christina nods to the door, “I’ll walk you out.” She catches Aimee’s smirk and rolls her eyes. She puts a shoe in the door so that it won’t shut on her as she faces Andrei. “Thank you for the cake. Seriously.”

“Careful,” he teases, and if butterflies flutter in her stomach from his tone that’s no one else’s business. “It could be awful.”

“It won’t be.” She grins and gives him a quick hug before she can overthink it. She pulls away before she wants to. “Happy Thanksgiving. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you again.”

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

She watches him disappear from the hallway before she lets out a deep breath.

…..

The crowd at the PNC arena goes nuts with Andrei scores with less than two minutes left in the third against Columbus. Christina herself bounces around on her toes in excitement, her parents and sister somewhere up in the box seats. What a way to get your first of the season. She feels weirdly proud of him. 

She only catches him as she’s heading out a bit earlier than normal to drive back with her family. And by catch him, she only means by eye contact as Andrei’s swept up in media. She stops for a moment and just leans against the doorway of the locker room, watching him answer questions

Christina’s about to push herself off the doorway when Andrei’s eyes meet hers. He’s still talking, but his smile widens, and she just shoots him a thumbs up and a grin of her own before walking to the parking garage. 

…..

Christina groans as she skims the email from the management of her apartment complex. Fixing the water pipes will shut down water for 24 hours. It’s not the end of the world, but how inconvenient. 

She leans back in her chair, mentally going through her mind to see where she could crash for a whole day last minute. The one friend she would go to immediately is away on vacation right now. 

She’s twiddling her fingers as she walks to the locker room, needing to check in with Andrei. But weirdly, he’s nowhere to be found. She’s about to walk out of the room just as Andrei walks in. 

“Oh, perfect,” Christina says. “I was looking for you.”

“Were you?”

She tries not to roll her eyes as he follows her back to her office. “Get your ass on the table.”

He laughs, following her instructions as she works on his shoulder. She must sigh without realizing because his eyebrows furrow. “Everything okay?”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she waves him off. “The pipes are getting fixed in my apartment building for a day so I gotta figure out where I’m crashing for the night. That’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “That must be annoying.”

She shrugs. “It is what it is, but the friend I usually would stay with is away right now, so that kinda has me scrambling. I probably will have to get a hotel room for the night or something.”

“How about you stay with me?”

Christina has her back towards him to take some notes, before she spins back around and raises an eyebrow. “Andrei, no. I can’t-”

“I have a guest room. Multiple guest rooms, actually,” he runs a hand through his hair. “It’s no problem. Serious. It would be like I’m not even there.” She opens her mouth to protest but closes it again, weighing her options. Like he senses her hesitation, he barrels on. “You don’t have to drop money on a hotel. And only for a night, right? Just stay with me.”

She bites her lip in thought. It would save her a lot of trouble. And he’s right, it’s just for a night. “Are you sure?” She says. 

“100 percent,” he promises. 

“Okay,” she says gratefully. “Thank you. I owe you big.”

“No worries,” he says. “I text you my address. Come over whenever you’re ready. I text you the garage code too in case I’m not home.”

She’s a bit surprised that he just blindly trusts her so much, but he trusts her to handle his body and recovery, which is arguably the most important thing for a professional athlete, so staying in his home is next to nothing. 

But it’s a big deal to her. She’s reminded of that when she drives home to grab some things. She’s reminded that her phone buzzes with a text from him, the garage code like he promised, along with what her sushi preferences are — anything, it’s her favorite food. She’s reminded of that as she drives over, immediately feeling overwhelmed at how nice this neighborhood is. 

She forgets often that these players are earning more than she ever will. Andrei is a multimillionaire. The cost of his living room alone is probably worth more than a year of Christina’s current monthly rent. 

It doesn’t phase her necessarily. It’s just an observation. 

As she pulls into his driveway, she sees Andrei coming out of his garage. He perks up with a wave, waiting for her to park her car. He approaches her as she comes out of her car with her backpack.

“Just in time. I grabbed dinner.”

She glances at the bag in his hands and she tries not to gulp at the familiar (expensive) restaurant logo “I could’ve grabbed it on the way here.”

He waves her off as they walk through the garage, him swinging her backpack over his shoulder. “You’re a guest in my home. Why would I make you do that?”

Christina’s not used to this. The chivalry. The acts of service. It all feels a bit too much, especially as he gives her a brief house tour and shows her the guest room. It’s all so minimalistic and clean and expensive and she was not prepared to be staying the night in Andrei’s house today. Or ever.

She jumps in the shower really quickly to wash off the day. It takes her a moment to figure out how to control the temperature. She’s afraid to mess anything up. When she walks back out into the main room, Andrei’s just finished setting up the table. When she spots the familiar label of her favorite wine, she blinks. 

He notices her silence and chuckles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I asked Taylor what your favorite wine is.”

“You could’ve asked me,” she says softly. 

He shrugs. “I wanted to surprise you, I guess.”

She hoists herself up on the stool of the island, trying to control the butterflies in her stomach. “Well, thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

Being with Andrei in his home is expectedly intimate. She feels very comfortable at work to poke fun at the players and staff. But it’s different sitting for meals in the kitchen at the office compared to sitting across a kitchen island eating sushi that Christina only has when her parents foot the bill. Something as simple as Andrei’s sushi plopping into his soy sauce and her bark of laughter feels almost too much, especially when he chuckles with her at his misery. Because it’s just the two of them in his home and it’s almost too much. 

But even if it’s too much, she doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. In fact, it’s probably weird how comfortable she does feel, as her and Andrei chat about everything from the team to his brother to her college days. When his dimple pops out and his brown eyes brighten with curiosity, she has to remind herself that she works with him. They’re co-workers at best. Friends possibly. 

She gets up to clear their dishes away, but Andrei’s quicker and pushes her shoulder down so she’s sitting again. She gives him a look. “Andrei. Come on. You bought dinner and you’re letting me stay for the night. I can wash dishes.”

He shakes his head, “You don’t need to do anything but sit there all pretty.”

She just blinks and sips her wine because what the fuck. 

They debate putting on a movie or show, but end up just hanging out on the couch and continuing to talk because he’s just so easy to talk to. Christina stops herself after her third glass of wine when she remembers she has work tomorrow, and she thinks he’s so sweet for grabbing her a glass of cold water without her even asking. 

When they’re winding down for the night, he hovers by the door of the guest room, making sure she doesn’t need anything. When she assures him that she’s all good, he leaves her with a “goodnight” and the cutest smile and Christina knows that she’s fucked. 

The next morning, she wakes up to the smell of coffee. When she walks out, yawning and rubbing her eyes, she sees two plates of waffles. 

“Good morning,” she says with an air of surprise. “This looks great.”

He chuckles. “Eat it first before you say anything.”

She hums, making sweater paws with her UNC sweatshirt and smiling when he slides over a mug of coffee. 

“You sleep well?”

“I did, thank you. You have a very comfy mattress.”

His dimple pops out and Christina can feel herself falling. “You’re welcome anytime.”

That statement doesn’t help either. 

After they finish their breakfasts, she yet again isn’t allowed to help with dishes, so she wraps her hands around her coffee and watches him. “Thank you, though, Andrei. Seriously. For letting me stay over. You saved me a lot of trouble.”

“Of course,” he says over his shoulder, catching sight of her packed backpack in the living room. “Are you heading out so soon?”

“Yeah. I have to get into work earlier than you do, remember?” She teases, as she finishes her coffee, hands him the mug and goes to grab her backpack. “I also wanna stop by my place to drop this stuff off and pick some stuff up before heading to the rink.”

He turns off the faucet, wipes his hands and walks over to her. “I was gonna say I’ll miss you, but I see you in probably an hour.”

She laughs, not quite processing what he just insinuated. “Probably.”

“Can I ask you something before you leave?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“Would you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

Her jaw drops open a bit. Oh. “Oh.”

He backtracks. “You can say no. I won’t be hurt. Or, well. I just want to ask to see if you give me that chance. I really like you, Chrissy.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just…Andrei. We work together.”

“I know, I know.”

She lets out a sigh, tipping her head back and squeezing her eyes shut. “Andrei-”

“One date,” he practically begs. “Let me take you on one date to prove that this is real to me.”

She swallows, her resolve starting to crumble down from his pleading eyes. “I could lose my job.”

“You won’t. And I wouldn’t let that happen.”

She can’t help but snort. “Carolina loves you, but not that much.”

He pouts before taking her hands. “Christina,” he says sincerely. “Just one chance. And then if it doesn’t go well, we stay coworkers and friends and this never happened.”

“And if it does go well?” She bites her lip.

The dimple appears on his cheek again. She wants to kiss it.  “Then we figure out where to go from there.”

“There’s just, it’s not- you’re wonderful and kind and sweet, but I’m putting a lot on the line here.” She feels vulnerable, her voice shaking at the edges. “I’ve worked too hard to have this fall apart on me.”

“I know. I understand.” And huh, Christina thinks. He actually probably does understand more than most, because if Andrei is anything, he's a hard worker. He gently places a hand on her waist and she can’t fucking think. “I wouldn’t ask you just to ask you or risk anything.”

“You like me that much, huh?” Christina jokes weakly.  

Andrei squeezes her waist lightly “I do.”

Oh. Okay. 

A few more seconds pass with Andrei staring at her hopefully and Christina blinking rapidly. He’s so gentle with her it makes her wanna scream into a pillow. 

“One date,” she relents. His eyes sparkle and her smile grows with his. “You have one shot, Svech. Use it wisely.”

“Oh believe me, I will.” He says confidently. “When are you free?” 

“My work schedule is the exact same as yours.” 

He lets go of her hands to dig into his pocket for his phone, checking the Canes schedule that’s synched up to his calendar. “When we’re in New York. Two weeks from now.” 

“New Year’s Eve?”

“Yeah. I know we’re already all going out at night but during the day. Just you and me.”

Immediately, her mind goes into planning mode. “Sure, yeah. That works. I have some friends who live in the city I could ask for recommendations for-”

“No,” she tilts her head in confusion at his firm tone. “You don’t worry about anything. I take care of all of it.”

“Andrei.”

“I take care of it, Chrissy.” he repeats, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “All you need to do is show up.”

She opens her mouth and closes it, before, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. Will you at least tell me what to wear?”

“Anything. You always look beautiful.”

She rolls her eyes at the fact that he’s already loading on the charm and they’re not even on the date yet. “Nice try. I’m not wearing my work attire to our date.”

“Seems like you already know what you’re wearing, then.”

She huffs before softening. “Thanks for letting me stay the night.”

Andrei clicks his tongue. “Of course. I see you later?”

Christina chuckles. “Yup.” 

They walk to his front door, and he hesitates for a second before leaning down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. She’s absolutely floored. “Get home safe.”

She gives him one last smile as goodbye. It isn’t until she’s in her car when she leans her forehead on her steering wheel and smiles into it does it fully sink in. 

She has a date in two weeks.

…..

No one likes a loss, and even if Christina is kinda immune to it by now, it’s not fun. But the holidays are near and her heart feels light as she packs up her things. Her flight takes off early in the morning, so she’s hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before then. A knock on the doorframe has her looking up to see Andrei dressed back in his game day suit with a light smile on his face. 

“Hey,” she greets. “Everything alright? You need treatment?”

“Everything’s fine. I’m okay.” He says, shuffling in and looking a bit sheepish.

Christina hesitates. She’s not sure how Andrei is after a loss, if he likes to talk about it or forget about it. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” 

“Okay.” She looks down at his outstretched hand holding a box she didn’t see at first. “What’s that?”

He clears his throat. “It’s, uh, your Christmas present. You fly back home in the morning, yes?”

“Yeah,” she shakes her head. “Andrei, I-I don’t need…I didn’t get you anything.”

“That’s okay.” The annoying thing is that she knows he means that. She tentatively takes the box out of his hand and opens it. Inside is a pair of silver dewdrop earrings. 

“Andrei.”

“Uh, I asked Taylor and they told me you wore silver and gave their approval. But if you don’t like them, I can return them and exchange them for-”

“Andrei,” he halts as she looks at him. “They’re beautiful. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You really didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I wanted to.”

She chuckles shakily, closing the box. “We haven’t even been on our date yet.”

“So?” he shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. But it is a big deal. “You’re important to me. I get everyone important to me Christmas presents.”

Christina wants to melt at the soft look in Andrei’s eyes. She’s a bit at a loss for words, so she just gives him a tight hug. She lets herself fall into him as his arms wrap around her securely, resting her chin on his shoulder and letting her eyes fall shut at how safe she feels. 

She reluctantly pulls away and puts some space between them. They are still at work after all. “Thank you. Seriously. You’re so sweet.”

“I’m glad you like them,” he says with a light in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”

He shakes his head. “No need.” She gives him a look as he chuckles. “I promise. A date with you is enough presents to last me a lifetime.” Jesus Christ. Where does he pull this shit out of? He just grins. “You heading out? I walk you to your car.”

She swallows and nods, packing up the last of her things, carefully placing the box on top. She makes sure she’s not looking at him when she says her next statement. “You’re way too nice to me.” Silence for a bit besides her rustling her things. Once she’s ready to go, she looks back at him, who’s staring at her thoughtfully. It throws her off guard. “What?”

“I’m not too nice to you,” Andrei says, eyebrows furrowed adorably and sincerely. “I’m just..how I am.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Christina quickly assures him as she flicks off the lights. “I just, uh, am not used to it? None of my exes have ever even treated me this nicely.”

“That’s a shame,” he says. “You deserve someone being kind to you. No such thing as too nice.”

She just swallows as they head down the hallway and to the parking lot. Because what can she say to that? Andrei has always been sweet and polite since the day they met, but she didn’t expect him to be so sincerely earnest. 

She slides into the passenger seat of her car and he leans down, resting his hand against the hood. “You’ll be good to go home?”

“Yeah.”

“Merry Christmas, Christina,” he says with a grin.

“Merry Christmas, Andrei.”

…..

Andrei gets a hat trick against Montreal and looks right at her as his teammates converge upon him. She has no idea how he even finds her so quickly considering she’s not standing where she usually would be, but he finds her anyway. 

She grins at him and he gives an imperceptible nod paired with his signature charming smile.

Three more days.

…..

Half an hour before Andrei’s supposed to be at her hotel room door, Christina is already ready. 

She hadn’t managed to squeeze many details out of him, because he insisted that he would take care of it. It’s not like she doubts him, perse. But she’d at least like to know how to dress so she doesn’t feel out of place. She told him that, and he caved, saying “not a sweatshirt, but a nice sweater or dress will be fine, but not overly fancy,” which, actually, doesn’t say much. But she could work with that. 

And she did. When packing for this mini-road trip, she put thought into what she would wear today. She’s settled for a black-neck long sleeve with her favorite dark green pants, paired with black ankle-high boots and her favorite brown peacoat. 

As she sits on her bed and waits, she starts becoming more fidgety. She’s nervous, yes, but not because she doesn’t know him. She has a feeling that he’s going to be the perfect gentleman and the date will go well. 

She’s nervous that it’ll go too well and she’ll get ahead of herself. 

Before she knows it, she hears a knock on her door. With a deep breath, she grabs her bag and walks over to open the door. 

She swings it open and swallows. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Andrei says softly. She takes a moment to look at his outfit — a navy blue button up with a gray jacket draped over his arm. With black dress pants and sneakers, she’s thankful that it seems like their outfits match on the formal scale. He clears his throat. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she says softly. “You look great too.”

“Shall we?”

Christina reaches into her purse to make sure she has her room key, phone and wallet before nodding. “Where are we headed?” She asks as they walk down the hall. 

“We’ll have to head on the train a few stops to Lincoln Center.” Lincoln Center? She furrows her eyebrows. He clears his throat as they step into the elevator, him leaning against the wall. “Today’s the last day they show The Nutcracker. With your dancing history, I figure, I don’t know, maybe it would be fun?”

Suddenly, a frog appears in her throat. It’s probably the most thoughtful first date she could go on. She looks into his earnest eyes, as if he thinks she’ll hate it or not wanna go. 

“It’s perfect,” she manages to get out. He’s perfect. “I-I haven’t seen a ballet in ages.”

“I know,” he responds. “You told me, remember?”

Oh. She did. And he remembered. She bites her lip to keep herself from blurting out that this might be the best date she’s ever been on and they just stepped out of the elevator. 

She can tell he’s a bit nervous, quieter than usual. They’re not quite holding hands, but their fingers keep brushing and she feels the ghost of his hand on her lower back as they head down to the subway and onto the train. 

“When’s the last time you were in New York City?” He asks. 

The train lurches and Christina takes a second to find her footing. “It’s been at least two years. I used to come up here for, funny enough, dance intensives and camps when I was in middle and high school.”

“Are you planning on getting back to classes now that it’s been a few months?”

Again, she’s impressed with the things Andrei actually remembers. She shrugs. “I definitely think I’m still too busy during the season. But maybe in the off-season.”

More people pile onto the train, causing the two to move closer towards each other. She can smell his cologne. She looks up in shock at the feeling of a feather-like kiss on her forehead. 

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Saying yes. This will be the best date of your life, I promise.”

She just leans her head onto his elbow as the train runs on its tracks. 

As they walk into Lincoln Center, all Christina can do is gape as they find their seats, Andrei leading the way — in the first row of the second wing. It’s a perfect view of the stage with all the formations, lighting and sound. Andrei plays with her hand the whole time and it feels so good to see a dance performance again. During intermission, she gushes over the choreography and costumes as Andrei just smiles, listening intently to her observations. When she suddenly stops and apologizes for rambling, he tells her to keep going. (“I love how much you love dance.”)

Afterwards, they head to a nearby dessert place and share a bowl of shaved ice and ice cream. She’s having such a good time talking with him that it isn’t until the sky becomes dark does she realize they both have to head back to the hotel before anyone questions them and they can get ready for the team and staff New Year’s Eve party tonight.

She swipes her keycard, closing the door as he steps into her room. “Thank you for this. I had a really good time.”

“Yeah?”

She nods, biting her lip with a small smile. “I did.”

“A good time enough that you want to do it again?”

“I think so.”

“Yeah?” His eyes are practically sparkling and Christina’s elated that it’s because of her. “I didn't blow my shot?”

She chuckles, “You did.” She doesn't want to tell him that if she’s being honest with herself, he had her from the very start. 

“Great,” he grins. “Great. I’m glad you had a really good time. I was really nervous.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Oh,” she says, walking closer to him and instinctively wrapping her hands loosely around his neck. “You didn’t have to be.”

“You-you always make me a bit nervous, even if I don’t show it,” he admits. 

Christina’s stomach tingles. “Can we go on another date when we’re back in Raleigh? Maybe after I take my exam?”

“Yes,” he rushes out. “Of course. Yes.”

She catches his eyes flickering to her lips for a split second and decides to just bite the bullet. She presses a delicate kiss on his lips, and backs away to see a light pink dusting his cheeks. “I’m gonna go get ready for tonight.”

He chases her lips, causing her to giggle. “Bye,” he mumbles against her lips. “I see you in a bit.”

As soon as her door shuts, she lets out a little squeal into her hands. Happy New Year’s Eve to her, indeed.

…..

Christina’s certification exam happens to fall on a rare week where the Canes have no games, which she’s grateful for because she doesn’t want to miss out on any. There are some practices, but she’s excused from those to study. 

The day after her exam, she feels a large weight lift off her shoulders. She won’t get the results for a few weeks, but she feels confident that she did well and she can pat herself on the back for a bit. 

She comes into practice in high spirits, having gotten a coffee and pastry from her favorite cafe on the way as a treat. She takes congratulatory messages from all the staff and some players with a smile. When Andrei skates up at the start of practice to her on the bench, he just smiles at her, shooting her a quick wink before skating off. She hopes she’s not blushing. 

He’s left her alone in the meanwhile while she’s been studying, but she’s hoping to catch him before he leaves the rink today to see when they can go out again.

Unfortunately, the team is in the video room as Christina heads to her office to pack up for the day. She guesses she’ll have to talk to Andrei tomorrow. She could just text or call him, but that doesn’t feel good enough. 

When arriving at her car, she stops short and squints. There’s a bouquet of flowers wrapped in brown paper tucked inbetween the door handle, red roses and sunflowers to be exact. 

“Oh good, you haven’t left yet,” she whips around to see Andrei jogging towards her. 

She turns back around to her car, staring at the flowers as he stops beside her. “What’s this?”

“A little gift. To congratulate you on finishing your exam.”

She swallows, suddenly emotional. “They’re beautiful.”

“Beautiful flowers for a-”

She whacks him lightly. “Don’t finish that sentence, you sap.”

He laughs. It’s becoming one of her favorite sounds. “But I mean it.”

“I know,” she finally turns to look at her and grins. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Are you around this week to grab dinner or something?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “You know my schedule more than anyone.” She rolls her eyes as he chuckles. “Of course I am. We’ll find time.”

She hums. “Okay.”

“What should I tell the guys for now?” A sudden flurry of anxiety flashes through her veins. Andrei must see her face change, because he continues quickly. “I don’t have to say anything. We can keep it quiet.”

“Would you mind if we did? Just because it’s so…”

“I don’t mind,” his dimple pops out. “Promise. Let’s just go on another date first. Sound good?”

She bites her lip with a nod. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” he repeats. His hands itch to reach towards her before he remembers that they’re just outside of the rink and that anybody could walk out at any minute. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow. Thank you for the flowers, seriously.”

“I hope you’re proud of yourself,” he says, backing away. “You’re so smart and you worked really hard.”

She looks down at her shoes, warmth spreading through her body. “Thanks. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

(When Christina goes home and arranges the flowers in a vase, she sends Andrei a picture. He responds immediately with the heart-eyed emoji, and she feels the excitement of something new starting.)

…..

Christina’s a smart girl. When she gets a text from Doug a few weeks (and more than a handful of dates with Andrei) later to come to one of the conference rooms, she has a feeling it’s about her and Andrei. Though who would’ve said something? 

Her stomach drops on the walk over, her palms sweating as she fiddles with her staff badge. When she walks in, she sees Doug, Mary, head of the HR department, Coach Brind’Amour and Andrei himself all around a rectangular table.

Mary offers a warm smile. “Hi Christina.” 

Christina tries to smile back while shutting the door behind her. “Hi Mary and everyone.” 

“Please take a seat,” Mary says. The only empty one is next to Andrei. Christina gingerly sits down. “I guess we’ll just cut to the chase. It’s come to our attention that you and Andrei here are in a romantic relationship.” 

She blinks. Well, yeah. But-“From who?” 

“From me.” Andrei says. She whips her head to look at him and he grimaces. “I’m sorry. I know we planned to go together next week, but I slipped up in front of Coach this morning and…yeah.” 

“Of course you did,” Christina mutters. She hears Doug trying to cover a snort. “Um, yes, uh, we are. Seeing each other. Together. Whatever you wanna call it. We were going to come to your office next week. We weren’t gonna hide it or anything, I promise.”

“I understand,” Mary says. “First of all, your job is not in jeopardy. You’re not going to get fired because of this. Especially because it’s obvious you two weren’t trying to hide anything. ” Christina knows that, but she would be lying if she said that she wasn’t a little bit relieved. “Workplace relationships occur all the time. However, as I’m sure you both understand, your particular situation is a bit different. I have to ask when you two started this relationship.” 

Christina lets Andrei take the lead, partially curious about what he’ll say. He doesn’t hesitate. “New Year’s Eve.” 

She smiles internally. It’s nice to know he considers their first official date as serious as she does. 

“You do understand that in the workplace, there are boundaries.” 

Andrei and Christina both nod. Christina continues, twisting her fingers. “Of course. I’ll obviously continue with my responsibilities as I have been since I joined the organization and continue to do the best I can do with every player and staff member. Our relationship won’t affect that at all, I promise.”

“And I also understand the boundaries,” Andrei adds. “This will also not affect my performance on the ice and off. I continue being professional with all staff.”

“You both understand that no matter what happens that your professional relationship comes first?”

“Yes.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And you both understand that when you come into work, you’re at work and focused on work?” They both nod. Mary looks around the room. “I mean, that’s really all I got. It seems like you two understand. I’ll draw out the paperwork and get it back to you two in a few days. Doug?”

Doug clears his throat. “First of all, I called this and Steve owes me $50.” Andrei lets out a surprised laugh but Christina isn’t even fazed. “Only thing I got is that I should probably take you off as the main person of contact for Svech for his general recovery regime we started in the beginning.”

She kinda saw that coming. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Andrei about to protest but she kicks him underneath the table. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“No worries. I’ll just take over. There’s not much to that anymore anyways, right?” She nods. He grins. “Great. As long as you keep doing the good work you’re doing, no issues here. Coach? Anything to add?”

Christina swallows looking at Coach Brind’Amour, but she breathes easier when he smiles a bit. “Nothing really from me. Svechy, you know what I expect from you. That doesn’t change. And Christina, you’ve done your job wonderfully thus far and as long as that doesn’t change, which I’m sure it won’t, no issues here. Do your teammates know, Svech?”

Andrei smirks. “Some of them have probably picked up on it. Nothing for sure though.”

Coach grins wryly. “You can be the one to tell them then, should you want to.”

“You’re gonna get chirped like hell,” Christina snickers, making everyone in the room laugh. 

Andrei looks over at her with a small pout. “And you won’t?”

“A little. But you’re the one playing with them. I’m just an lowly assistant trainer.”

Doug cackles. “Chrissy, I think you underestimate how much the boys like you. Get ready for comments everyday.”

“But not too mean,” Andrei says. 

Christina snorts. “Down, boy.” She turns back to Mary, Coach and Doug with a smile, feeling more comfortable now. “Is there anything else?”

Mary shrugs. “Besides the paperwork I’ll get you two to sign later, nope. You two are free to go. Thanks for coming in."

They all file out of the conference room while Christina and Andrei linger. Once everyone is out of earshot, she playfully shoves him. “Really?” She deadpans. 

“I’m sorry!”

She chuckles. “It’s fine. At least it’s out of the way. Would appreciate a warning next time though.”

He nods solemnly. “I know. I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again.”

She swallows, before leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek and going their separate ways. 

(Andrei lingers to watch her turn the corner of the hallway, a big smile on his face. Rod watches him)

…..

three years later 

The times that Christina is on the bench has gotten higher and higher the longer she’s been here. Hell, she’s one of few women to this day that has been on an NHL bench as a trainer, which is ridiculous since it’s 2027 and she’s just doing her job. Doug’s son is getting married this weekend so Christina knew she’d be taking over head duties for this game against the Rangers long before. 

It’s thrilling every time though, being on the bench. Everything’s so much louder and things seem to move so much faster, even though she’s been doing this for three years. Since puck drop, she’s been in the zone and thankfully so far, not needed. 

Until Andrei gets checked. Hard. Which rarely happens since he’s the one usually doing the checking. 

Fights break out on the ice, whistles are blown and Christina doesn’t need the ref’s signal — or anyone’s — to know that she needs to scurry out there fast. She’s praying that it looks worse than it is. 

She bends down next to Andrei, who’s crouched over in pain and places a gentle hand on his back. “Hey, baby. It’s me. Can you tell me what hurts?” He’s breathing heavily and doesn’t respond for a few seconds. “You have to tell me what hurts so I can help you.” He mumbles something in Russian and while Christina is 90% sure of what he’s saying, she can’t take any risks right now. “English, baby, please.”

“Chest.”

Okay. Lungs. Maybe ribs. He’s talking and breathing fine, even if heavily. “Okay,” she nods, going through her mental checklist rapidly. “Can you skate off by yourself?” He nods and she just rubs his back, giving him a few seconds. He eventually gets up on his own, which is a good sign, and she tries not to eat shit as they both get off the ice and go straight down the tunnel. 

Once he’s sat down on a training table, she puts her hands on his cheeks. “Drei. I need to hear the words from you.” 

Even in his injured state, Andrei knows. “I’m okay, solnyshka. Just hurting a bit.” 

“Okay. Let’s get your gear off and see what’s going on, yeah?” She helps him get off his gear until he’s completely shirtless. “Lie back for me.” She does her routine, pressing in specific spots and seeing how he reacts. She winces every time he hisses, even though it’s helping her determine what’s wrong. She goes through her questions, quickly determining if he’s done for the day or may be able to head back out. It's the end of the second period anyways, so they have more time to assess. 

“You got your shit rocked.” She says bluntly. She smiles lightly when she gets the reaction she wants, which is a snort out of him. 

“Yeah, which is fucking annoying.”

She swallows. “But you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Think it was more of just an impact hit.”

“Good, good.”

“What are you thinking, Doc?” Andrei jokes. “Am I good to go for the third period?”

“That really depends on you,” she says. “Like you said, it seems like it was more just an impact hit. Beside soreness and tenderness, nothing’s out of place or broken or sprained. But it’s all about how you feel.”

“Then why do you sound unsure?”

“Because I’m trying to talk to you like your trainer, not your fiance.”

Andrei softens and she has to look away. “Talk to me like you’re my fiance, solnyshka.”

“It was just a scary few seconds there, when you didn’t get up. That’s all.”

She swallows as he puts down the ice pack and puts his hands on her cheeks to make her look at him. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

She waves his apology away. “It’s okay. Getting hit is part of the gig. I know that by now.”

He rubs his thumbs on her cheek. “Still. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s just hard sometimes. Seeing you go down. Keep icing,” she instructs, backing away. Christina’s not afraid of being caught with PDA nowadays. Everyone in the organization knows they’re together after three years. But she still prefers keeping up a level of professionalism at work. 

“I think I’m gonna go back out, but I do limited minutes.”

She furrows her eyebrows. That doesn’t sound like him. “Limited minutes?” He just shrugs. “Andrei.” She deadpans.

“It depends on me, right? How I feel?” He says, throwing her words back at her as he starts putting his gear back on. 

“Yes. But you’re Andrei Svechnikov. You don’t know what the word limited means because you have no sense of self preservation.”

“Limited minutes,” he says firmly. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“The ring on my finger kinda indicates that I’ll always worry about you,” she responds dryly. 

He laughs, standing up. “Only for tonight, to be safe.” They hear the boys about to head out for the period and start walking out of the room. “Thank you for taking care of me.” 

“Just doing my job.”

He pulls her in to place a quick kiss on her lips. “And you do it well.”

“Good luck out there. Love you.”

“Love you more.” He runs back onto the ice with his teammates as she follows slower behind.

“He all good?” Coach Brind’Amour asks when she’s back on the bench.

“Yeah. Up to him if he wants to take every shift, but he’s cleared to go.”

Coach nods, “It never gets easier, does it?”

“Hm?”

“The look you had on your face when Svechy went down. It’s the same look I have when my son goes down. Still. And he’s been playing his whole life.”

She shrugs, trying to be casual. “It’s part of the job I signed up for.”

“Sure. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.”

They both watch as the teams skate to center ice to take the faceoff. No, she thinks. It most definitely does not. 

It’s close to midnight when she and Andrei are walking out of the arena together. She yawns as she leans into him and he puts an arm around her shoulder. Luckily they have the day off tomorrow. Maybe she’ll force Andrei to try a new recipe for dinner together that she found online.

It’s not until she’s in bed, listening the shower run as Andrei quickly rinses, does she see her notifications. Fifteen texts from six people.

She clicks Layla’s first. It’s a link to a short Twitter video. She clicks on it. 

It’s a short clip of the broadcast right after Andrei’s injury, a replay she winces at, cameras showing her running out and all the chaos before they head into the tunnel. But it’s what the commentators are saying that Layla — and all her other friends who sent her messages — are freaking out about. 

“Svechnikov seems to be alright, able to get up on his own and slowly skate to the bench, which is always a good sign.”

“Christina, the Hurricanes’ assistant athletic trainer is out there with him, with Doug, the head trainer out for a few games for family obligations. Fun fact, she’s one of the few female athletic trainers in the NHL. Fantastic at her job and an incredible person as well.”

“Another fun fact to those who may not know, Christina and Svechnikov are engaged, getting married sometime next year. And that’s a beautiful Canes love story if I’ve ever heard one.”

“I can imagine it isn’t easy to have to see your fiance go down like that, even if it is a part of her job. They’re both heading down the tunnel now, so we’ll see if he comes back out for the third period. Hopefully he’s okay.”

She locks her phone. It’s been known to the general public that Andrei is engaged. He had posted on Instagram when he proposed. But it had been a silhouette shot and he hadn’t tagged her out of respect for their privacy. Christina’s Instagram is private too, so very few people they don’t personally know had put it together. 

Until now, that is.

“You saw it too?” Andrei says, coming out of the bathroom.

“Yeah. A bunch of people sent it to me.”

“And?”

“They didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. What do you think?”

He slides under the covers and kisses her forehead tenderly, “I love being known as your fiance. I’d ask you everyday to marry me if I could.”

“Sap.” She feels him laugh as she leans her head on his chest, drawing circles on his bare skin. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m always gonna be okay. I have you.”

She kisses his lips before yawning, and he reaches over to shut off the lamp. 

(When Christina goes into work the next morning, Taylor’s waiting for her in her office. With no greeting, they set their laptop down and press play on a video. It’s a compilation of her and Andrei’s little pre-game ritual they had started a few months after they started dating. 

It’s Andrei, usually in his game day suit, and her in the hallway of whatever arena they’re in. He grabs both her hands and kisses her three times. Twice on the lips. Once on her forehead. She always adjusts his collar even if it doesn’t need to be adjusted, and then they’re both off to their separate ways. 

Christina had no idea Taylor had been filming this. For years, apparently, if the description in the bottom right of the video indicates anything. 2024, 2025, 2026 and this year, 2027. 

“I was gonna originally ask you if I could post it the day of your wedding,” Taylor says as the video ends. “But I also would never post it anywhere without you or Svech’s permission. I’m perfectly prepared to just keep this in the archives and never let it see the light of day.”

“You’ve been filming that all these years?”

Taylor smiles softly. “I have. The clip from last night is everywhere, with the broadcast talking about you two while you’re helping him on the ice. Twitter’s going crazy.  And I was thinking, and no pressure at all, but I was thinking that we could post this today. Everyone always loves behind the scenes content, like Marty screaming Svech’s name. I have a feeling everyone’s gonna love this little ritual too.”

The video has been replaying automatically and Christina can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. If you think it’s a good move, I trust you. You’re the social expert.”

“Well, perfect,” they grin. “I’ll catch Svech when he comes in to ask for his permission too.”

Christina snorts. “He’s not gonna say no, I can promise that.” 

He doesn’t. Taylor posts the video three hours later. The internet goes nuts. Andrei surprises her with dinner when she gets home after him, two plates of delicious-looking pasta on the table with a candle lit and a vase of fresh flowers. But the most beautiful sight is his dimpled smile. 

She kisses him. Hard. It feels like the first time again.)

~*~*~

tag list: @ru-kru, @bunbunbl0gs (lmk if you wanna be added!!)

[buzzcutlip]

hiiii! can I get a request for lip with a shy!reader where they like know each other from school but it’s like later seasons lip like working at the shop or the construction job and she starts to develop a crush on him but he doesn’t think he’s good enough for her so he distances himself and dates other girls and she has to watch from the sidelines until a guy asks her out so she goes for it and lip gets jealous and realizes his feelings. i’m in an angsty pining jealousy mood but with a happy ending still if that makes sense! but honestly feel free to run with it if it’s something you’re interested in writing bc I love your writing! 💗💗

Hi anon! I love this prompt, thank you very much for sending it my way! <3

This is a very first time I'm writing something with our dear boy Lip Gallagher, and I hope I'm not messing it all up.

Lip Gallagher/Fem!Reader Mature 1561 words

You admired Lip Gallagher. He was smart, intelligent, witty, and—alive. Despite the , he made it to college. You didn’t know the details but heard people talking about those nasty Gallaghers. You saw him take his little brother, Liam, to classes, to your study group. The little boy living temporarily in a dormitory made you sick with worry, but it was obvious that Lip took great care of him. You mostly felt for Lip—that he, as young as he was, had to take on his parents' responsibilities. And still, he did so great at school and had two jobs on top of it. He went home for weekends to help around the house. But that life sucked him back in, never giving him a solid chance, as much as Lip fought for it. He left the school, left the crime scene behind, and left an empty space in your chest. You never told him how you felt. Never wanted to, anyway.

Occasionally, you still meet each other at parties he gets invited to—or invites himself to—and you chat easily, sharing a drink or two. You’re happy to see him, to hear about his crazy jobs. Sometimes he brings a girl along and you smile politely at her, shake her hand. The whole school knew about Amanda and Mrs. Robinson. Besides wanting to protect yourself, you don’t believe Lip could ever want more than friendship from you, which makes interacting with him easier. ‘Cause you’re not trying for anything with him. He’s just a good bad boy. Who cares if you’ve had a crush on him since day one?

So what you expect from Lip when you introduce him to your date, Jacob, at one of these lame parties is that he shakes his hand and says hi politely. Which doesn’t happen; he just grumbles something and leaves for the kitchen. You roll your eyes and tell Jacob not to mind. Inside, you’re a bit embarrassed and disappointed. Why? You’re not sure. Maybe because Jacob’s a bit boring and you still keep seeing him. Letting him kiss you and put his fingers in your pussy and never do anything back. Because he doesn’t attract you. “But he’s nice,” your friends say. You say, for Christ’s sake! He is nice but oh so boring. You don’t feel anything, but you don’t want to be alone anymore. And most importantly, you don’t want to think about Lip when you masturbate, when Jacob fingers you, when boys half-heartedly fucked you in the past.

But as much as you want to forget Lip, you see him again. It’s a bar this time. Filled to the brim with a Friday crowd.

“Hey,” someone says behind you, laying a hand on your shoulder, and you know it’s him before you turn around. You smile at him, sucking on a colorful paper straw.

“You still drink that? Rum and Coke?”

“Yeah,” you laugh shortly, looking at the dark brown drink in your hands. “Spiced rum!” you clarify.

Lip leans closer to you, the sudden proximity doing things to you, as always, and you have to bite your bottom lip.

“Is your boyfriend here?” he asks casually, but you noticed him scanning the crowd just a few seconds ago.

“Yeah… Jacob’s here—but he’s not my boyfriend. We’ve been just—seeing each other for a bit.” You don’t want to talk about Jacob with Lip and it’s clear in the way you talk. You’re more focused on your elbows touching on the bartop.

Lip just laughs shortly, doesn’t say anything. It irks you. You frown. “What?”

“Nothing,” Lip shrugs, drumming his fingers on the wooden desk stained with beer and sweet, sticky liquor. He’s lost some of the baby fat in his face. You notice the sharpness of his cheekbones. He tilts his face downward as he blinks at you.

“You never had a boyfriend at school.” He probably wants to say "When I was at school" but that doesn’t interest you that much now.

“So what?” You grow even more irritated by his questions. Why does he care? You never discussed boyfriends, or his girlfriends, for that matter.

You turn your head away, grimacing, but Lip, on the other side, seems entertained. Intrigued.

“Nothing,” he says, smirking stupidly, and doesn’t stop looking at you. “You’re pretty when you pout.”

Your whole face flushes in an instant. Lip never talked like this to you. Never flirted. Of course, at the beginning, you had been disappointed, but you quickly decided that mutual respect for friendship is much better. Safer.

Unsure of what you’re going to say, you tilt your face back to him, but when you look at Lip, he’s not smirking anymore. He reaches for you, hand catching your burning face, his thumb sweeping over your cheek.

It takes you a moment to bat his hand away. “What’re you doing?” you ask, horrified. And shocked. Flustered with your shyness.

Lip shakes his head. “I don’t know,” he mumbles while you’re looking around, all wild, to check for Jacob.

This time it’s Lip who frowns. “You said he was not your boyfriend.”

“Are you, like, jealous or something?” you say only to say SOMETHING, head shaking in disbelief. The silence that follows almost shocks you. You never thought about what you would do if Lip felt the same about you. Never dared to think about that scenario.

Scared to find out what you’ll find out, you peer at him. His face is serious, jaw tense.

“Oh my god, you—you’re jealous,” you whisper, hand going to your mouth to cover it. Your expression must be hilarious—eyes wide, mouth open in disbelief. Lip starts fidgeting with the paper coaster on the bar, eyes flicking all over the room.

Angry tears begin to cloud your vision. “You have no right to be jealous now,” you seethe. “Have you only noticed me now? When I’m seeing someone?” The hurt is unmistakable in your voice. You ball your hands into fists, blinking against the tears welling in your eyes. When Lip doesn’t say anything, you turn on your heel. If you don’t get some fresh air now, you’re going to suffocate.

Once outside, you find a quieter spot away from the smoking people, propping against a wooden table. When you look up you wish you could see stars in the night sky. But the light pollution’s making it impossible. Sighing, you wrap your arms around yourself to protect yourself from the chill. You’re glad that Jacob knows people here too, otherwise you would probably feel bad for leaving him.

Before you get a chance to really sort your feelings, you see Lip approaching you in your peripheral vision.

You sigh, defeated, making a point of not looking at him as he stops a mere foot from you. You’re terrible at confrontations.

“You mad?” Lip asks, and you can feel him studying your face. There’s a cigarette burning between his fingers.

You shake your head. No.

Next, Lip shrugs off his hoodie, cigarette held between his pouting lips, and drapes the garment, warmed by his own body heat, over your shoulders. “Here.”

Suddenly, you’re enveloped in Lip Gallagher. In the smell of tobacco, laundry detergent, and boy. You close your eyes tight against the feeling that’s surfacing from within you. It’s spreading like wildfire, and when Lip steps in front of you, reaching to move the zipper up, up, up, the heat reaches your face, pinks up your cheeks.

Lip leans into you, putting both your bodies into contact, thighs to chests. He slides one of his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, right where your hand’s hiding too, and twines your fingers together. Then he rubs his cheek against your own, as you meet in the middle, and your heart stops. You didn’t know Lip would be like this. That brash, cocky Lip Gallagher with a womanizer reputation treating you with such tenderness.

But you don’t want to end up as a notch on his bedpost.

“I don’t think I’m your type,” you say simply, looking at the ground, hoping that’s enough for him to let it go. To let you go. Even though deep down, it’s the last thing you wish for. You don’t want Lip to let you go. You want him to do the exact opposite.

Lip scoffs, closer to your ear than you expected, making you jump. “And what’s my type?”

“I mean—” you swallow hard, finding the courage to say the next words, as nonchalantly as possible, “I’m from a functional family. I don’t use drugs, I don’t deal drugs. I’m pretty sure I don’t have any personality disorders,” you list.

“Wow, so you’ve done research on me, huh?” Lip asks drily but he doesn’t move, stays close to you.

You decide to come out with the truth. “You know, I had a crush on you at school, and I think I was not as subtle as I thought I was. I mean, most of my friends knew about it.”

Licking his lips, he says,“I always thought you were cute. I was just—”

You're not letting him off that easy. “Busy fucking through the entire school?”

“I didn’t think it was a good idea to make a move.”

“Why do you think it’s a good idea now?”

“Because I can’t stay away from you anymore.”

[writella]

hi! s10 is so fun so enjoy it when you start it! can i request a daryl smut of any kind?

Before We Leave

Synopsis: Here’s one about you sitting all sweet on Daryl’s lap because I have not stopped thinking about him holding you in his arms and giving you all the kisses after reading this headcanon! ♡

Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader, set during the period between seasons 8-9, kissing, smut—grinding, thigh riding, fingering, making a mess when you have places to go (such sillies). Mostly proofread. Feel free to give feedback!

A/N: It’s been a minute, guys, I know :( and to ava, so sorry for the wait ♡ I hope you like this and I can’t wait to get to season 10 too!! And know that I definitely still have your initial request in mind for later on!!

First, you noticed his hair: ever so endearingly disheveled, the waves falling so effortlessly as they did in their shaggy way; and then you noticed his skin— it shined. Normally, this would have been because of work and sweat from the late spring heat, but he was clean, he had showered today. He even changed his clothes, and surprisingly, his light beard was trimmed, his face was washed too– it illuminated with his small lazy smile that appeared as you came through the door. He looked so nice and ready to go. Your handsome man. He was waiting for you.

He wore a dark blue long-sleeve, the buttons at the start undone, exposing the top of his chest as he always preferred. And his sleeves, only just big enough to be slightly loose around his arms; they were rolled up at the forearms. It looked good. Though the better fit was his equally loose vest that was layered on top. Seeing it reminded you of how much you missed it. It took him so long to get it back from Dwight. It’s only now that you’re realizing how it fits again, how well it suits him. It’s not that he needed it of course, but you did love how it completed every outfit he wore, making it just so him.

In fact, everything about him was so, so—

“Hey,” he calls to you, his voice itself a finger snap to your attention, “you alright there?”

“Yeah,” you respond, meeting his eyes as you pathetically try to joke, “Just can’t think of the last time I actually saw you sit. We’re always… fighting or doing something aren’t we?”

“Mmhm.” He smiles inwardly. Your staring was nothing short of obvious, and you both know it: You were leaning against the door frame, eyes wide and lingering, trailing over him as he sat on your desk chair. But to him it was sweet, honestly. Almost humorous to see. It was nice to see you smile over nothing other than looking at dumb old him, or at least that's what he assumes of himself. He should know better by now than to think like that, but it's still just his way sometimes. You were in love with him though, and he loved you; and you liked looking at his dumb old face, and he knew that. That's why he doesn’t mind your gazing. That’s why he says, “C’mon,” patting his lap, knowing you wanted to come closer; his eyes catching how much yours went lower and lower, changing from innocent peerings to just a little something else, something more.

You’re hesitant at his invitation, but smiling like a kid. It's true you couldn’t help how good his thighs looked and how good the fingers that splayed over them were— rough and thick— their feeling on your skin taking you back to the past— but his noticing… Well, it just makes you blush. It makes you take slow footsteps, one in front of the other as you come closer to him, bashful and snickering. Once you’re near enough he holds you by the hips and you skip to meet his movements towards him. He turns your backside to him on the right side of the chair and sits you down, horizontal from his forward figure.

“Silly,” he calls you, flicking your nose as he taunts. It’s gentle and harmless even in his typical, slightly grumbled tone.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, your wrists and hands curling at his neck, your side pressed into him. He feels bigger when you’re in his arms like this. As if he can comfort you or sheild you from anyone or anything— and you know he could. So safe is what you feel with him; the sigh you let out proves it. The fighting may have finished almost a year ago now, but moments like this are truly what feels like peace. And with that, your mind drifts backwards again. Realizing how you don’t remember the last time you’ve sat like this. With him. Just holding you.

One of his hands holds your thigh while the other grounds you by the lower waist, nearing your hip. You turn your face to his, raising a hand, parting some of the hair in front of his forehead, holding his jaw and you kiss him. You put your tongue between his lips. It’s quick but tender. There is a tiny trail of spit between you two as you let go. Tilting your head, you look at him with an already happy and dazed little smile. You don’t remember the last time you got a good look at him either. And you’re not talking about any of the times you’ve looked at him while simply talking or standing by him, that was almost all the time; but for so long standing next to each other was to cover one another in a fight, kill a walker, but this— this was simply because you wanted to, because he was yours, and you loved him, and you could.

He goes in to meet your lips first this time, holding you by the neck and jaw with one hand, and the other is at your back making you lean in closer. You give in to him, let him take the lead. Your feet curl under the chair and you smile into his indefinite kisses. It makes you accidentally nip at his lower lip which turns into him intentionally biting your lip thereafter. It’s just a bit harder, but he might have done it a tad more sharply than he intended.

“Ow,” you hiss, hushed and soft between breaths, but he’s already soothing the area at the corner there, giving you a lick and little pecks before returning to what he was doing before: kissing you and kissing you.

“You’re fine,” he tells you dryly in between.

Your hands lowers to his chest, feeling his collarbones, then down to his heart. Your fingers rest on the exposed skin there, then trailing lower, ghosting over the closed buttons. You want to, but maybe you shouldn’t. It wasn’t exactly the time.

Originally, you had come home to shower and change: Everyone was having dinner together at Rick and Michonne’s tonight, the first time in a long time. In fact, it was Judith who requested it; she said specifically how much she wanted all of her friends to be there. And you couldn’t disappoint the sweet girl who gave you a construction paper and crayon written invitation, asking you to promise Uncle Daryl would come. The ticket was for both of you, a little picture of you two holding hands at the bottom. ‘Pretty smile you,’ and ‘grumpy pants him,’ she explained.

It was hilariously perfect and it made your heart leap. You and Micchone laughed for a whole minute about it and you hugged Judith immediately after.

Though you couldn’t believe that she could possibly think Daryl wouldn’t come. Of course he’d do anything for her, and you would too, so just as much, ‘Of course,’ you told her, ‘We’ll even be there 10 minutes early so we can pick seats next to you,’ you had said.

But now you’re here, in such a cliche you’d roll your eyes at if you weren’t so in the moment, with Daryl touching up your leg and you allowing it. For once, you’re the one all dirty in your work clothes. And the longer you kiss him, and the longer he holds you on his lap, the more you feel it; the want, the need. You’re getting restless and you’re struggling to weigh the options in your mind.

You lived in Alexandria, helping Rick, Micchone, Rosita… And Daryl, he was sent off to head reconstruction at the Sanctuary: you two don't get to see each other as often as you’d like.

And the Sanctuary wasn’t a place you particularly liked visiting anyways, especially not at first, and he didn’t blame you. But you had still talked to him about trying it, staying there. Maybe a week, maybe longer, maybe seeing if someone else can take over your Alexandria responsibilities, but honestly, he didn’t want you there either. He didn’t even want to be there. Every week that went by was another step closer to talking to Rick about leaving.

Still, moments like this are when you wonder about asking again, if you should be the one to finally move instead… The thought fades as Daryl now groans slightly into your mouth, you had pushed yourself down on his groin which elicited the dark sound, and you moan into him in response. Your hand gripping tightly to his bicep and his digs into your side, holding you tight— you’re losing the ability to think.

His tongue is twisting with yours, and his hand goes lower on your hip, the other deeper into your hair. You’re starting to have a heat pool at your center and you're squeezing your thighs together.

Daryl can sense it and feel all of it: the indecision, the squirming– your feet shuffling and curling against each other, your legs slowly swinging up and under the chair as you do so, as your continue to melt into his lips.

And he does feel it too, though he’s better at not showing it, but you do start to feel him shifting underneath you. An erection starts to harden as your hand goes lower on his chest and the little sounds of you humming into his mouth become more sexy, more desiring, than simply sweet as you continue.

He lets go, slipping his fingers between your knees, “We don’t gotta do too much.”

This makes you laugh. You’re still looking at him all dopey eyed, and more than slightly needy despite your words terribly trying to fight it, “What’s just enough then?”

His hand moves up along your inner thighs as an answer. His fingers trail up until they reach the center, and press into you at the inseam of your jeans. You start to buck up to his movements just as they begin. You even put your own hand over his, pressing into yourself more, your head tilting back. You bite your lip, whining lightly.

“Like that?” He asks, your neediness surprising the both of you.

“Last time I saw you was last week— for a day,” you’re speaking between light, out of breath pants, “outside- scavenging- no time.” Leaning forward into his touch, pretty sounds trail out, “-uh, mmm.”

You continue to grind against his hand harder, adding your other hand on top of his for more pressure until he says, “Get up.”

You stand, starting to undo your jeans and Daryl pushes the back of your chair further against your desk and starts to unbuckle his belt, but right before he finishes, you stop him. You grab his hands, “Wait,” you tell him, slipping off your shoes, and discarding your pants until you sit down again, straddling his lap.

There was something about the way you could see the outline of his bulge by how his pants laid on him, and the nice friction you knew the jeans would cause underneath you that felt so enticing. And more importantly, his bulge looked huge, fat even, you wanted to sit yourself perfectly right on top of it, making sure you could feel it all squish deliciously into your pussy lips with only your thin underwear covering you.

You begin to rock, pushing down against him. Your tiptoes reach the ground, helping you dig in and your hands go to grab onto his shoulders. Daryl holds your hips, thumbs pressing into your back, helping to roll your body into his.

His legs shift beneath you and it makes you think about his thighs again. How yummy they would feel just like his bulge…You have a little bit of time, right? Never mind- you’ll do it fast.

You get up once more, now placing yourself on his left thigh and you start rocking against him again.

Daryl quietly lets you, his hands go under your shirt and you let him take it off, leaving you in only your underwear while he’s fully clothed. He doesn’t mind letting you do what you want right now, he’s enjoying it. Grunting lowly, loving how he can watch you in your blissed out state: your open mouth, your sloppy humping and riding, how you're whining and panting as he touches up your stomach, how you’re so needy that you take one of his hands higher to caress your breast. He licks his teeth, “Need it bad, huh?” He tenses his quad, applying pressure so perfectly, just as you’d been thinking about for days. “Huh, sweetheart?”

“Think about you everyday, Daryl.” You sound just a bit too pathetic, but he eats it up, a small wicked grin coming to his face just looking at how much you wanted him. Not only thinking about his cock stuffed in you, but even how you wanted his thighs too? Just him in general? His poor girl, so deprived of him. He hated being apart, but fuck did he love how desperate it made you when he visited, desperate for him, desperate for him to give it to you or let you have it in any way. It gave him ideas of what he would do to you after you got back from dinner.

Your knee is centered in the middle of his thighs, pushing against his groin with each roll of your pelvis and the rock of Daryl’s hands as he pushes your hips forward, both helping you reach that point of pure bliss, going hard and deep, while giving him just a bit a release from the tension he feels because of you.

You close your eyes, head tilting up to the side lightly, mouth agape. “Ah, mm-” Your frustrated sounds then turn into you sighing so light, so sweetly, “I missed you.”

His hand reaches the side of your face briefly, rolling over your hair and cheek, “Missed you too.”

You knew your underwear was more than damp at this point, but you hoped the dark denim of his pants would mean it wouldn’t be that bad. You were lying to yourself honestly, but you did have wipes anyway, and… Was it bad to say you wanted to soak his jeans? For him to see the mess you made? Remember how big of a spot you created for later? There was no mistake, he had to spend the night. Having dinner in Alexandria made it so that it was too late for him to go back to the Sancutary afterwards. You wondered what he’d do to you later, what you’d let him do. He did miss you, he said it himself after all. And you feel his stare on your lower stomach as you continue to roll yourself on him, as he watches your clothed pussy make a mess of his jeans. And he sees the way his unintentional grunts and slight growls to the sight of you make your head tilt back, mouth opened so wide like you were already preparing to suck him off.

Your eyes are closed, your open mouth allowing a string of “ahs,” to come out as you continue to rub yourself against his muscle, wiggling a little, back and forth, going in a circle for a second to get more attention onto your clit, feeling yourself get wetter and wetter from your boyfriend’s big, and thick thigh. Your knee digs into him harder and he uses one hand to push it against him more.

After he lets go, one of his hands slips into your underwear, placing his middle finger over your clit, rubbing fast circles into it as much as he can as you continue to rock down on both thigh and fingers now. The extra friction feels so good. You’re whining, your panting, holding onto his shoulder with one hand, the other hand grabbing onto your desk, trying to stabilize yourself as you attempt to go faster, your movements becoming more erratic. “Daryl, please,” you whine, “help me.”

He places his free hand on your ass, kneading it forward and his other hand tries its best to circle into your pussy as much as it can.

As his middle finger continues to circle your clit, his two other fingers push into either side of your labia. “Go on,” he encourages, “Already made a mess. Make it bigger.” He moves his hand to your hip again, pushing you down. “You got it.”

Then he starts bouncing his leg, you bounce along with him, trying to rock as hard as you can. You start moaning louder, it’s continuous, you’re getting closer, you see yellow white light behind your eyes as a release takes over you, it’s hot and you can barely breathe, you almost wail as you coat his hands, ruining your panties, soaking his jeans. It felt amazing.

You huff out heavily now, finally opening your eyes to see Daryl take his hand from beneath you, licking his fingers clean. Wet popping sounds come out after he sucks each one, looking you directly in the eye. “Mmm.”

You blush gingerly at him. Getting up you see the large wer spot on his pant leg. It wasn’t a circle, it was ovular, taking up half the area of his thigh. Your teeth clench, you thought it would be big, but… you didn’t know it would be that big. This wasn’t something you could quickly clean off. “I guess it’s a good thing you keep your extra clothes here?”

He keeps his face straight, he figured as much would happen, but it was fun to see you squirm. “These were my extra clothes.”

“Oh.”

You should have let him take his pants off.

[redrose10]

hii for the prompt game thing: how about 5, 5, and 55 or 60 with Yoongi! I just love how you write Yoongi, but it's up to you if you want to change the member!

I hope this is what you were looking for! I’m so sorry if it isn’t.

< Beauty and the Frog >

CEO Yoongi x Female Reader

Warnings: Swearing, cheating, very slightly suggestive, Yoongi is pretty mean in this one

CEO, Unrequited love

#55 “That’s not very nice.”

#60 “I fail to see how that is my problem.”

*******************************************************

You had known Yoongi since you were in elementary school. You had seen him around the building but the first time you really interacted with him was when you were partnered up together in your 8th grade biology class. You refused to dissect a frog and even after the teacher threatened you with an F and a trip to the principal’s office you stood your ground. Yoongi admired that and followed suit earning you both after school detentions. It brought you guys together and you were best friends from that moment on.

Freshman year was intense. Lots of changes and new stressful situations but you had Yoongi by your side so it made everything a little easier.

Tenth grade was better. You had gotten the hang of things and were able to navigate life. You and Yoongi were still best friends and stuck mostly to yourselves. Many rumors went around the school about you two but you always ignored them.

You were in the eleventh grade when you realized your crush on Yoongi. You hadn’t seen him for much of the summer because he went to stay with his grandparents in the countryside. When he walked into the school on the first day your mouth dropped open. He had grown a few inches taller. Most of the baby fat in his face had disappeared leaving him with a chiseled jawline. He had let his hair grow out and he seemed to have bought some new clothes with the money he had earned at his part time job. The first thing he did was walk towards you and wrap you in a hug giving you the first feeling of how much more muscular he had become while working on his grandparents farm. When he said your name his voice was considerably deeper than you remembered. You locked away your secret crush for the whole year not wanting to ruin anything between you two. The thought of loosing him forget was too much to handle.

Senior year of high school was flying by. Yoongi was captain of the basketball team. You took a position as the teams water girl after he begged you too just so guys could get to spend a little more time together. You had decided that after the final game of the season you were going to ask him to Prom. Your nerves were out of control as you waited for Yoongi to come out of the locker room but minutes and minutes went by. Every other member of the team had already left leaving you wondering what was going on. As you exited the school there were mumblings and whispers about two people hooking up in the parking lot. You felt a knot in your stomach as you walked outside only to see exactly what you had feared. Yoongi exiting the backseat of his car with his zipper down and his belt still undone and the head cheerleader following behind while still pulling her skirt back down. When Yoongi came walking over to you asking if you were ready to hit up your usual after game pizza place you declined telling him you weren’t feeling well. He offered to take you home and hang out there but you shook your head accepting a ride from Hoseok instead much to Yoongi’s disappointment. Yoongi went to prom with the cheerleader while you skipped it all together deciding to never let him know about your crush.

College was much of the same only you didn’t feel a soul crushing sense of sadness whenever Yoongi would bring a random woman back to your shared apartment. You had learned to accept it for what it was. The ones he actually dated hurt a little more than the one night stands but you got through it, even having a few romantic adventures of your own.

Graduation came and went and Yoongi started his own record label with some money he and received as an inheritance. You were so incredibly proud of him and excited to see him succeed as the CEO and Owner of his own business.

It took a few years but DTown Records slowly became one of the hottest companies in music while producing nearly every hit on the radio.

When things got too crazy Yoongi offered you a job. He wanted you to become be his Chief Operating Officer. At first you declined saying you didn’t know much about the music industry but Yoongi knew you had a degree in business and he trusted you. So eventually you gave in and became his partner.

It was a lot like the old times. The two of you spent countless hours together all the while your old crush was blossoming more and now to the point you started feeling like you loved him.

Then Yoongi introduced you to Mia, an up and coming artist he had met at some big industry event he had gone too. Immediately you didn’t like her. It wasn’t all jealousy. She just gave you bad vibes. She was a little too quick to use Yoongi’s credit card any time she wanted to purchase something. She was constantly flirting with other men when he wasn’t around. And she definitely did not like you. She had one too many glasses of wine or coffee “accidentally” spilled on you by her way more times than could happen accidentally. She was always conveniently having emergencies any time you and Yoongi tried hanging out. You also heard from Jin, Yoongi’s assistant, that one morning she was giving Yoongi reason after reason to fire you.

You tried to talk to Yoongi but he was having no part of it even going as far as you call you jealous and told you to grow up. A little crack formed in your relationship for a while until he announced his engagement to Mia. He looked so happy and so in love that you put on your best act and pretended to be happy for him even though you were devastated.

The night before the wedding you were laying in bed trying to mentally and emotionally prepare yourself to watch the love of your life marry someone else when there was a knock at your door.

Since it was 3am you were nervous to answer it until you heard Yoongi on the other side. He greeted you with red eyes and sniffles before he broke down in your arms and sobbed.

Through his distress you learned that Mia was in her suite at the hotel so that they wouldn’t see each other the night before the wedding. He had snuck over to her with flowers and a song he’d written wanting to be romantic and surprise her. Only he was the one that was surprised when he found her naked riding some wannabe rapper as she moaned his name loudly into the air. The wedding was called off and Yoongi was devastated. You did your best to comfort him while forcing yourself not tell him you told him so.

Yoongi took a few weeks off to recover so you were in charge and things went smoothly. You were excited for his return only to be horrified at what you were met with.

The once happy and full of motivation Yoongi was replaced with the shell of man who was spiteful and outright mean. His heart melting gummy smile was replaced with a nonstop scowl. He fired people left and right and talked down to his employees. He wasn’t the Yoongi you’d known all these years. His broken heart had changed him to an unrecognizable person. But you still knew deep down that the Yoongi you knew was in there so you stuck around.

Bit by bit you snipped away at the barbed wire that surround him. His favorite coffee, lunch from his favorite Thai Restaurant. Tickets to see his favorite basketball team. Your secret fresh baked cookies that he had always loved.

One morning he came into work to find a brown stuffed poodle that looked exactly like the dog he had when he was in middle school. You saw the faintest hint of a smile at that one and you thought maybe you had finally got to him but then he took the toy and stuffed into the bottom drawer of his desk to be forgotten and started barking out orders to people in the office.

Then one morning Yoongi called you into his office, something he didn’t do much of any more.

“Y/N, I’m moving the headquarters for the label to LA.”, he said after you took a seat.

“Wh-What? You can’t do that.”

He scoffed, “It’s my company. I can and I am. I need to get out of this city and start new. I can’t stay here any more.”

“What about the employees here? What about me?”, you questioned.

“We’ll keep a small team here the rest we’ll have to let go and as for you…I want you to move to LA with me.”

Your mouth dropped open, “Yoongi that’s the other side of the world. I have family and friends here. My whole life is here. I can’t just pack up and move.”

“I understand Y/N. I can’t force you to go but I really want you to. I need you to come with me.”, he said barely above a whisper.

So you agreed. And within a couple weeks you were packed up and goodbyes were said and you were moved to Los Angeles. It was a difficult decision but you would do anything that Yoongi needed and/or wanted.

The company was doing incredibly well while making record profits. Things were also going great between you and Yoongi. You were closer than you had been in a while. Your feelings began blossoming fuller and fuller as time went on now that things didn’t seem so tense.

One afternoon you walked into Yoongi’s office. He was on the phone with someone so you took a seat to politely wait.

“Mmhm I’ll be there.

I know I know it’s been a while.

Yeah my flight leaves at noon.

I know babe I’m excited.”

You rolled your eyes hearing him use the pet name. He smiled when he noticed your reaction before quickly hanging up the phone.

“Going on a trip?”, you asked.

He looked nervous as he fidgeted with a pen, “Actually Y/N, that is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

You nodded letting him know you were listening.

He took a deep breath, “I’m moving back to Seoul.”

“What?!”, your mouth dropped open.”

He nodded, “I’ve been talking to someone, her name is Mae. We met at the Valentino show a couple months ago. She’s a model based out of Seoul so I’m going to move back there.”

You shook your head, “Yoongi I…you can’t move back. I gave up everything. I moved all the way to the other side of the world to follow you.”

He scoffed, “I didn’t force you to move here. You came here on your own Y/N. Just move back with me.”

“Yoongi I can’t just keep moving around the world whenever you have a new fuck buddy.”

He looked offended, “Mae is not a fuck buddy. I love her.”

You could feel tears begin to form, “You don’t love her Yoongi. You love that she puts out whenever you demand it. If she loved you she would come to you, not the other way around. Like I do. I’m always here for you. I do everything for you. I love you Yoongi.“

He stared at you for what felt like forever. Finally he slammed his laptop down, “I fail to see how that is my problem.“

His coldness shocked you. He had never spoken directly to you in that way. “That’s not very nice.”, you whispered through sniffles.

Yoongi softened at the sight of you realizing just how harsh he had been. He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry Y/N. I’m sorry for speaking to you that way. I’m also sorry that I don’t feel the same way about you.”, he packed up his things and headed towards the door, “I’m leaving for Seoul tomorrow. You can stay here and run this sector of the company or come back to Seoul. It’s up to you. I don’t really care.”

He walked through the door letting it close behind him.

He moved back to Seoul as he had said. Him and Mae got engaged three months later. They were married the following year and divorced by the next one.

You remained in your position as the COO through all of it, mostly because of the pay and travel perks, because your relationship with Yoongi had become strictly business after you confessed. You stayed in Seoul to run that location while he moved back to LA. It hurt for a while and it took a lot for you to move on from him.

But eventually you did.

And when Jungkook got down on one knee and proposed the first person you called was Yoongi. He didn’t answer. He never responded to the text either. He didn’t come to your engagement party. He declined the wedding invite. All you got was a generic card in the mail that you could tell had been filled out by Jin. Eventually you gave up and decided to put in your resignation because you and Jungkook were moving to New York. He didn’t contact you even then.

It wasn’t until almost three years later that you heard from him again. There was a package that arrived for you.

A card read, “Congratulations on the birth of your daughter. I wish you all nothing but happiness... I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one.- Min Yoongi.”

In the box was a stuffed animal. A wide smile formed on your face as you took the bright green frog with a pink bow on its head and placed it in the crib next to your sleeping daughter before joining Jungkook in the kitchen to finish up dinner.

[sportsthoughts]

I am sick of Yohe's misery and spent five minutes thinking I wish I had ten nice things to read this morning before realising I could write them myself:

Jarry - who, let's not pretend otherwise, is not my favourite goalie in the NHL - was fantastic at lots of points especially at the start of the game (let's not talk about the bit where he wandered off at the end, we've all gone rouge at the end of a night out haven't we, let's not be judgemental). Do I know what makes a goalie fantastic? Not really. But he made lots of saves and there were many points where I thought we were done for but he came through. He really really tried and God loves a trier and it's also really nice that Ned got a bit of a break. Being a goalie for a special team like ours must be tiring

Nostril boy scored a great goal which is an enormous feat considering he was skating on a line with a Drew O'Connor who's shaved head looks so bad it would frankly throw anyone off their game. I wonder if Sid will now declare the baldness unlucky and send him to Geno's hair man

On that point - Doc admitted that his hair looks terrible - which, yes, I know that isn't exactly a win from a hockey perspective but it's a man showing self awareness which is a rare win for humanity and not to be overlooked. I think Yohe could actually really spice up his journalism by writing a piece on our hair to win ratio

Sid's assist on Raks' goal was gorgeous. Gorgeous!! It wasn't goal 600 but it was a point and a beautiful one AND we got to see him smile

Our powerplay wasn't horrific. Our PK wasn't horrific. At points they looked good! I didn't feel sick watching either and the dash managed to stay mostly sane!

All our young guys were pretty good! And hey!! We have young guys!! Young guys playing on our team!! Let us not be ungrateful for what we have. Do I squint at their numbers on my grainy livestream and say who is that? What line is that? Where did you come from? Yes, but change is sometimes good and they lower our average age by like ten years

Geno showed so much energy towards the end of the game. I know he didn't do much but my gosh he really tried! He clearly had the legs. I don't like to dwell on it but at some points last season he just looked slow and tired not quite there and last night he looked hungry for it! He's been so great this season. I could make a point about the motivational powers of the stache here but i'm not Rossi so i'll leave the RPF to those better qualified

Also, Geno's line started the game! We rarely get to see him being broody on the ice during the anthems so that was a lovely treat.

For my fellow stachefuckers, the sidstache (and rustache and others) are all going strong. How long will they survive? I'm not sure. But we've made it 20 days with our beautiful slugs intact and that's so much better than last year. We have so many pictures! So many gifs. So many clips of the stache being discussed! Movember 2024 has not disappointed

Finally, it was a Hockey Fights Cancer night! There were some lovely stories and it was so moving to see survivors celebrating at the game. I think this is where Sid would say something nice about hockey being more than a game and having the power to unite people and include them in a community and give hope and inspire and and and. So insert that here. I think he's right.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

BNHA

something else to pretend by beeclaws

Bakugou apologies. Somehow, this makes things worse.

Retrograde by redrobin1989

Retrograde /ˈretrəˌɡrād/ adjective: directed or moving backwards noun: a degenerate person. verb: go back in position or time.

Seasoned pro heroes Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki are mentally transported back to their younger bodies due to a quirk. All they have to do is wait for the quirk to wear off for everything to return to normal. But sometimes the journey is worse than the destination.

DC

dick move by konan_konan

Part 1 of batfam twitter shenanigans

dim trake ☑ @timdrakeceo・52min guys what if dick grayson IS batman. that’s why he thought he was getting cancelled. it all makes sense. 784K Views | 142 Retweets | 52 Quote Tweets | 63.9K Likes

tason jodd ☑ @jsntdd・49min ↳ replying to @timdrakeceo asshole last week you said i was batman 461K Views | 88 Retweets | 16 Quote Tweets | 18.3K Likes

or: a civilian overhears a conversation between batman and nightwing. twitter does what it always does: makes things worse

the rules of playing make believe by hoebiwan

“We can’t squat in some dead guy’s mansion, Damian,” Tim says. Damian, in the midst of packing all their meager belongings into grocery sacks, ignores him.

“Why not?” Jason demands. “It’s not like he’s using it. Finders keepers, losers weepers.”

Or: Homeless!Reverse Robins squat in Wayne Manor.

Nine Worlds

with a winged heart by celebros

"Cliopher. Cliopher. Cliopher." I blink. It's Conju, standing with his hands on my shoulders, and I go to answer him and realize that I am already speaking, babbling, and Franzel is behind him, wringing his hands and looking near tears. I try to focus on what I'm saying, but it's like a stream, light and splashing past me, too quick to hold, not enough to catch, somehow, somehow – A few weeks before the start of the viceroyship ceremonies, Kip finds himself the unwitting recipient of a truth serum.

Original Work

That Frightful Nest Inside the Throat by whereveryouroam

Part 1 of That Dreadful Clockwork Beats Below

Living horses were in vogue among the high and mighty of the great families, but Peter’s new owners had sent proud motorhorses, clicking over in a blur of cogs and wheels, to draw the carriage. It was a very nice carriage - plush and cushioned. He couldn’t help but think this was sinister. Masters didn’t transport slaves in finery. At least, not slaves like him.

Peter’s spent years under the cruelty of masters who want the Monster inside him to become their weapon. He is quite sure that Lord and Lady Arken will be no different.

Percy Jackson

Through rose-colored glasses (the past is perfect) by Mo13

Part 1 of Rose-colored glasses verse

Luke/Percy were in a non-consensual 'relationship' when Percy was twelve. Percy deals with the aftermath, while constantly convincing himself that his relationship with Luke was fine (IT WAS NOT). Mostly cooperates with canon up to the end of Heroes of Olympus.

The Goblin Emperor

A Complete Education by bomberqueen17

Preparing for the Emperor's wedding, everyone has some things they need to learn about.

Emperor's Best Friend by imaginary_golux

Ino and Mireän decide their cousin Maia needs a special present for his twentieth birthday.

a burning coal of kindness by egelantier for Morgan (duckwhatduck)

When Maia is kidnapped by a faction hoping to halt the construction of Wisdom Bridge, Beshelar, gravely injured, is by his side. It might just be their undoing.

The Stairs Beneath the Heart by hermitknut

Part 1 of Keystone

The reign of Varenechibal IV is over; the reign of Edrehasivar VII has begun. The transition, however, is anything but smooth, as the Alcethmeret household navigates grief and worry as well as adapting to the new emperor.

A series of missing scenes and unseen moments centering around the Alcethmeret household over the course of the first few months of Maia's reign.

[lyak12]

Lucy bronze x reader. They just had a tough game and reader had a lot of back pain and Lucy helps her and massages her and takes care of her. Some fluff :)

I have your back

A/N: This was just so cute. Again it's not very long, only about 1k words, and I'm honestly half asleep right now so I don't know if this is any good but I couldn't help but see how Lucy would see right through readers facade at this req. Not proofread, and again, I'm a bit rusty, but still, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: None I can think of, if you see something lmk:)

It's your first season playing for Barça and you love it. Especially since you're reunited with your girlfriend again. Lucy and you play both for the English national team and have been dating for over two years now.

As Lucy had moved to Barcelona about a year into your relationship, you had been scared that your relationship wouldn't last, but you quickly realized that your love had known no distance.

Nevertheless, as the opportunity arose for you to join her in Barcelona, you had jumped on it, and it's been the best decision you made.

Life with Lucy in Barcelona is great. The weather is unbelievable and the food to die for.

-----------

It's is your second time starting for Barça and since you were one of the best teams in the league, you hadn't expected the game to be so rough. Not rough in the team is super strong, but rough in you felt like you're playing rugby.

It's around the 70th minute, Barcelona is in the lead with 6:0 as you jump up for the header. It's a beautiful pass from Lucy and it finds you perfectly. However, before you can even head the ball in, you feel a player from the other team jumping in your back.

You fall to the ground without being able to really catch yourself, landing mostly on your back, which causes the wind to get knocked out of you.

You groan as you try to catch your breath. For a moment, everything is black. As you open your eyes again a moment later, the first thing you see are your girlfriend's worried eyes.

"Are you okay y/n/n? That was an ugly fall", Lucy asks, worried, her northern accent coming out thickly when she's worried. "Yeah, I think so", you say and try to sit up. Your back is killing you.

The medics come running towards you to make sure you're alright and didn't get injured in the fall. They notice you're still breathing a bit shallow, but from what they can tell, nothing is seriously wrong. They help you up, and you stretch your back slightly.

You stay on the field, partly because you are too stubborn to admit you are in pain and partly because you feel like you need to prove yourself on the new team. "Are you sure?", Lucy asks, worried but you just nod.

Your back is in agony the rest of the game, but you push through. As the game is over and you win 7:0, you can't help but celebrate with the others on the team. However, Lucy can look right through your facade.

She keeps a hand on your back gently and makes sure you take it easy without causing much attention. After a nice hot shower, all of you get dressed and get back on the bus to drive back.

You wince slightly as you sit down, the bus seat certainly not helping your back. Lucy just smiles sadly before patting her lap. Normally, she's a bit more reserved in front of the team, but right now, her whole focus is on getting you as comfortable as possible until you're home.

You curl up on her and end up dozing off a little. The drive back luckily wasn't that long back to the headquarters. Once you all got off, Alexia and a few others asked, "Do you guys wanna get some food with us?".

Lucy knows you'd never tell your new captain no, so she's quick to answer, "Not tonight, I think we'll call it an early night and get some well needed recovery done. Thank you, though. You guys have fun." Alexia just nods with a smile, knowing how important recovery is for Lucy's knee.

That Lucy is feeling completely fine is beside the point.

"Why did you turn them down?", you ask softly, trying to appear tough, but Lucy sees right through you. "Because you're in pain, love. And I'd rather spend the rest of the night to make you feel better than going out to eat", Lucy says as she kisses your forehead, and you just smile softly.

The way home is not far, thankfully, and once you're in the privacy of your apartment, you can no longer keep the facade up. "Bloody hell, this hurts", you say as you lean on the kitchen counter. "Yeah, that was a pretty rough fall. I can't believe you kept playing after that", Lucy says, gently rubbing over your shoulder.

"Don't act like you wouldn't have", you say with a raised eyebrow as you look at your girlfriend. "Guilty, but we both know I would've gotten an earful from you as soon as we were home", Lucy says with a chuckle, and you just laugh slightly before you wince. Laughing hurts.

"Come on. Let's get you on the bed so I can massage your back", Lucy says, gently ushering you to the bedroom. "Luce, you don't have to. You must be tired and.. ", you try to argue, but Lucy interrupts, "Close that cute mouth and lay down on the bed, take off your shirt. This is not up for debate."

You know that tone, so you do as you're told and lay down on the bed on your stomach, top less. Before you know it, you feel Lucy straddle your thighs as she spreads some oil on your back and starts massaging.

You normally love Lucy's hands on you, but at the beginning, with your muscles being so tense, it's just painful. You can't help but groan a few times, and Lucy says gently, "I know, I'm sorry. Try to relax, baby."

Eventually, you do relax, and your tense muscles are starting to loosen up. By the time Lucy feels accomplished with her massage, you were fast asleep. This game took it out of you, and Lucy can't help but smile at you.

Kissing your head a few times, she gets ready for bed herself before crawling in with you and tucking you both in. You instinctively cuddle into her chest, and she just pulls you close, pressing a kiss on your forehead before mumbling, "I love you, sleep well, Baby."

[pixiesfz]

It make me so sad that’s there is not much lotte or Teagan content on here 😭

I’m gonna mix my two requests for teagan together!!

take the punch t.m

plot: you take a hard punch in a corner kick, turns out it’s from the girl you’ve been talking to for months.

warnings: injury, aggression from teammates, Player gets hit in the face and player is only given a yellow also I am NOT a doctor

You stared at your phone and the messages that were on it.

More specifically the girl behind the messages.

You had met Teagan at the start of the season on her debut as Liverpools goal keeper.

She had been a pain in your ass.

saving your shots left right and centre, it annoyed you but impressed you so much that you went up to her afterwards.

“Teagan is it?” You ask, walking up to her and she nodded “uh yeah, your y/n” she responded and you nodded “you know your really good” you told her “wasn’t fun for me but you know” you laugh and she laughed with you.

“I was honestly very scared to go against you” she admitted and you rose your eyebrows “really?” You ask and she nodded “watched you in the World Cup when Australia versed you, got those goals past us like it was nothing”

Oh yes, you remember that day.

“Sorry for kicking you guys out” you said softly and she shook her head “nah it’s all good, had me mesmerised to be honest”

You blushed, “yeah?” you ask and the goal keeper nodded “definitely”.

Before you could response you felt the hands of your teammate drag you away “Chloe!” You complained as she smiled at you

“No fraternising with the enemy y/n/n”

“Shut up”.

When you went to bed that night you didn’t expect to wake up to a dm from the Australian.

‘I really hope this is your account and not just a very popular fan account’

And for the first time in a while you woke up with a smile.

After a month or so of talking online with the girl your teammates noticed a change in your behaviour.

You were smiling in the morning, trying new things for breakfast and pestering Mary and Alanna for Australian facts.

One day Alanna turned towards you “Alright who is it?”

“Who is what?”

“Who is the girl that is getting you all…giddy”

You stepped back “there is no girl”

“There is such a girl, who knew our little German could find love?” She grinned and pulled you into a loving headlock.

“Fine” you grunted “there is a girl” you admitted and cheers filled the room.

“Who is it?”

“Does she play?”

“Do we know her?”

“Please don’t let it be a physio”

You turned to Jill weirdly “what?” You asked and she just shrugged before you turned back to your teammates.

“I’m not going to tell her name yet just in case it doesn’t go well, yes she plays and yes some of you know her well”

You gave away your hints before the team realised it could literally be anyone in the WSL.

“Can you at least tell us the team?” Mary asked, using her power of being one of the younger, cuter members of the squad.

“No.”

You were on a FaceTime with the Australian when she made the first move “Do you want to go on another date with me?” She asked after the topic of your worst date ever came up.

You smiled bright, a blush burning on your cheeks but you were so ever happy “I would love to, we can walking on the beach again”.

“Well we have the Liverpool vs City game coming up next week so after that” she declared “nah, I was thinking something fancier, we can go on a nice dinner and-“

“I want you to surprise me” you cut her off “I want to know what your creative Australian mind thinks of”

“Well mostly it’s you” she chimed in and you groaned, rolling your eyes “oh shut up”

Teagan laughed at your reaction, smiling at the way you reacted to her cheesy pick up lines.

Texts back and forth between the two of you did not help your nerves for the game ahead of you. But mostly you were more nervous for the activities afterwards.

You had ended up confiding to your national teammate Lena about your situation ship with the Aussie, not letting your club teammates know just yet.

But when the game ends and the girls see you walking out the doors with Teagan they'll find out who your mystery girl is anyway so with your blood rushing and head spinning you finally and well accidently tell your man city teammate and unfortunately Teagan's international teammate Mary.

"Really?" she responds to your quick words as you laid them out quickly, you just blushed harder before she gives you a thinking face "well that makes sense".

You furrow your brows "how-why- how does it make sense?" you ask, your arms moving with your words "well last international break she seemed much happier and that was after we versed Liverpool and if we weren't at trainings she was like stuck on her phone"

You stepped back at your friends words, You and Teagan had only successfully been able to go on one date together by the time the first international break came over, it brough a smile to your face realizing that she was in a similar state as you afterwards.

"I can help you two!"

"Mary I will not allow this to become a primary school relationship!"

Soon the game was here, you were lined up with your team in the tunnel, not in the starting XI but still in your gear as a sub. Mary was behind you, still the only teammate who knew about Teagan.

"look who's watching" she teased and you turned red, quickly turning around and smacking her arm "stop" you instructed and turned towards Teagan who was near the front of her line, she was already smiling at your interaction with Mary but gave you a small wave which you copied before you all walked out.

"that hurt" Mary rubbed her arm "deal with it".

You weren't subbed on until the second half, City were up by one as Lauren sent one through Teagan's fingers and into the net. You saw Teagan dust herself off as you ran on, her eyes fell on you for a second before going back onto the play which you joined in on quickly after.

Jess had scored not long after and you cheered after her, jumping onto her back with a smile. You wanted to look back to Teagan to see if she was doing okay but you were in your element, playing the sport you love and in this case winning!

In the 87th minute Kerstin weaved through the midfield and in between defenders as you lead towards the goal, her eyes darted towards you and sent you the ball, you jumped to header it in and then black.

The crowd watched as you jumped in the air, the ball hitting the front of your forehead and unfortunately the fist of Teagan's hands hitting the back, causing you to fall forward straight on the floor which you stayed.

Teagan all of a sudden didn't care about the ball that hit the back of the net and quickly dropped down to you, rolling you on your back so you faced up to her. "Oh my god-"

Teagan was cut off as your teammates pulled her away "Get off of her Micah" someone called out, Mary, cringing on the sidelines as she couldn't split her teammates and her friend apart. The words were catching your ears as you stirred awake to whatever had just happened to you.

Teagan ignored the man city players pesters and kept her eyes on you "please I just want to see if she's okay" she told them but Alanna pulled her back as medics ran on "Teagan she's not going to want to see you" she told her and Teagan crossed her head "I was supposed to ask her to be my girlfriend tonight" she told Alanna and the tall Australian stepped back and looked back over to you with wide eyes.

"let her go over".

Teagan ran over to you as the medics sat you up, The referee also showing her a yellow card but she didn't care.

"Hmm- Teags" you slurred as the girl came into your view "what happened?" you ask and the girl pursed her lips.

"Kinda punched you in the face"

"Oh" you said, not really gaining the information, a clear concussion on your behalf

Teagan watched as you were taken off by medics and went back into her box, the game quickly changed in the last ten minutes, the crowd was quiet and the teams weren't playing as hard, Liverpool excepting their defeat and man city not celebrating their win.

Not without you.

You were taken into the medics room before they quickly decided to take you to the hospital for a CT scan.

Meanwhile at the game, some of the players skipped the walk around the field to talk with fans and checked to see where you were. Hospital was what word was heard and Teagan along-side with Man city players were on their way.

Teagan drove herself, maybe going a bit faster than usual but you were on her mind, this was her fault.

She had had a concussion before, a bad concussion, it took her out for months on the team. She didn't want the same for you.

She was the first to arrived still in her kit, your teammates walked in five minutes later, quickly seeing the girl and walking up to her "you don't have to take pity on her" Kerstin said, Lauren quickly following "a quick DM would have been fine for her", their words were filled with pettiness which Alanna and Mary quickly shut down.

"They're not strangers" Mary said quickly and they all turned their heads "what?" Chloe questioned, Leia still stepping up to the Goal keeper "then what are they?"

"She's the girl".

Leia stepped back as Chloe gasped "oh my god, we are so sorry" Teagan just nodded, she ignored their comments her mind strictly on you "she was gonna tell you today after the game"

"before you punched her"

"useful information, thankyou Mary"

All the girls sat down, waiting for you "do you think she'll be mad?" Teagan asked Alanna who shook her head "she knows what she signed up for when she took that header, she knows the game" the blonde said and Teagan just nodded, still not convinced you wont cuss her out when you see her.

You sat in the room, looking at the scans, you would have a month off which you nodded your head at "I know it's not ideal but you have to be on a bed rest for about a week and you will have to miss the next international break for Germany" the doctor told you and you once again nodded your head.

"But you will be well enough for the Olympic but if you don't make it to the finals then you'll be out until the end of the season"

You sniffed, rolling your head back to stop any tears. You were sure Man city would make it to the finals with how they were playing, but if you missed a month you weren't sure if you would get any minutes on the film.

You had seen how time off had done for others, you didn't want that to be you.

You walked out of the room looking defeated as ever, your teammates were the first to walk to you, checking up on you with little questions before Kerstin gave you a hug, silently apologizing for her kick which you told her was not her fault.

It was nobodies fault.

When they all walked away, Mary softly turned your head towards the Liverpool keeper who had left to grab flowers from one of the stalls nearby.

"I thought you would have gone home" you said, relieved at the sight of her "and go to the dinner by myself?" she joked and you softly laughed.

You touched the back of your head "I don't think I look nice enough for a fancy dinner right now" you said and Teagan stepped forward her arm raising towards yours "Well personally I think you look amazing"

You blushed as she she tucked your hair you had taken out behind your ear "how long are you out for?" she asked "only a month" you smiled "that's really good Y/n" she started before looking down "I'm really sorry I just wasn't thinking and-"

You cut her off y quickly pecking her lips, distracting her completely as she widened her eyes "I don't blame you Teagan" you said, grabbing the flowers with one hand and grabbing her other hand with the other.

"So you're not mad?"

You creased your eyebrows "of course not" she let out a sigh of relief "well that's good, might have to cancel our plans though" she said and you smirked "how bout we order take out at mine?"

"yeah?"

"yes."

[1d1195]

My Friend's Toyota III

Read the rest here: My Friend's Toyota

~8.9k words

Warnings: Jealous Harry, a little pugnacious today. Nothing crazy, I hope. Mostly silly fluff

This is a bit all over the place. (A filler episode, if you will.) The next (and last part) will be more put together I promise.

-

She brought their hands to her cold lips and kissed the back of his hand. Harry was certain he was going to start sweating with how warm the gesture was and he couldn’t bring himself to care about how ridiculous it all was.

When the seasons change / Can I still hold your hand? / When we get rain / can I teach you how to dance? / It’s not even November, yet she’s worried ‘bout December / If I can have her in my arms / she won’t worry ‘bout the winter

“This feels ridiculous,” she said to Allie’s ear and tugged at the skirt of her dress, so it bunched in her hand, and she could press it to the outside of her thigh. She wanted the fabric to stretch lower. The chill in the air slid up her legs and under her skirt and it was almost icy. “It’s freezing out.”

“This is sweatshirt weather at best. Have another drink and we’ll stand by the fire,” she giggled. But without Harry to steal a drink from the fridge she didn’t have much choice of drinking.

“I know it’s lame, Al, but I want to study,” she practically groaned. “I haven’t a clue what’s going on in class. I was sick all week. I’m super behind.”

Allie snorted and shook her head. “So just take Harry’s notes and ask him.”

“I’m the one that helps him.”

“Sweetie. You’re twenty-one. It’s Halloweekend. We’re drinking and getting candy from cute college guys.”

The only cute college guy she wanted to see was Harry. But Harry was working and wouldn’t be out till much later. He was insistent that she stay out long enough so he could see her costume. “It’s not special...” she told him, her cheeks reddening at his request. “It... it won’t be like other people’s costumes on Halloween. Even Allie said it was cuter than it was sexy,” she admitted thinking of the Risky Business trio Allie was going to be part of for the evening. She scuffed her shoe on the tile floor outside her Sociology class when Harry inquired about the weekend. She had skipped last Thursday and Tuesday to recover from the cold she had. The sniffle punctuated how childish she felt. Harry was able to read between the lines; she wasn’t planning on wearing little to the imagination like many chose to do so. Allie assured her it was still sexy—in it’s own way—but not too sweet; she wouldn’t look out of place.

But she knew the truth. It would look cute and wholesome on her. That was how the guy described her last Halloween while she was working at a bar down south. Down there she could dress with little layering. She didn’t, but she specifically remembered serving a guy that was drunk and flirty. “I could take you home to Mom in that.”

It was her least favorite pickup line, but she knew it was true. It probably didn’t help that it was an angel costume. But it had always been that way. People like Allie dressed adorably and sexily. Allie, and others more confident than she was, were asked to go home for the night with someone they just met. She was asked to babysit or meet a parent. “I bet you’ll look...” he chuckled and pinched his lip between his thumb and finger as he scanned her up and down. He shook his head and smiled at her as her cheeks flamed at his scan. Despite the fact they had kissed and slept in the same bed (and nothing more) for several nights in the last couple weeks, Harry looking at her like she was... beautiful made her feel completely flushed and overwhelmed. It was insane that someone as popular, someone as handsome, someone so nice on top of everything else, liked her. “I can’t wait t’see it,” he promised. “Should I dress t’match you?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Really?”

“Well, yeah,” he smiled. “Want everyone t’know you’re all mine.”

She had to bite the inside of her lip to keep herself from smiling large enough to break her cheeks wide open. “I’ll send you the link,” she offered.

Now she had to wait another two hours before Harry was off work and on his way. Allie was already on drink number three and there were still no s’mores supplies by the fire. Even on Halloweekend. It was a real shame. Next time she was going to bring her own.

“But it’s cold,” she whined to Allie.

“Sweetie, it’s not even November. You’re going to need so many layers by the time we get to December.”

No wonder she was sick all week. The chill in the air was killing her. Harry was so kind and while he wanted to dote on her way more than he got to, she was insistent. The kind of insistent he didn’t want to argue with just yet—maybe down the line when they had dated for longer than two weeks. He brought her soup from work and as much as Allie tried to convince her to let Harry stay and wait on her, she was sure she didn’t need Harry getting sick on her behalf. Allie gave Harry a sad smile and a look in her eye that said I tried. For which he was grateful to have her best friend on his side.

*

Allie was the kind of person to talk to anyone that approached her. Like long lost friends. With her long-tanned legs on display, that meant there were a lot more people to chat with her. The remaining two of her trio came and went to take pictures and make appearances. She was able to chat with most anyone as well, but her introverted self, preferred a one-on-one kind of chat. It also helped when she wasn’t so cold.

The only person she spoke to between those moments of chatting with Allie’s friends, was the freshman pledge standing by the fire, aptly dressed as a firefighter—no shirt of course.

“You come here with her frequently,” he noted when Allie scampered off to dance to the unofficial Risky Business theme song inside with her friends. She enjoyed the warmth because she swore her dress was getting shorter by the second for her southern blood.

“Yeah, she’s my best friend,” she cleared her throat. “Are you stuck on fire duty all year?”

He snorted through his sarcastic little laugh but held a kind smile. He looked so young. She thought being twenty-one was young and somehow this eighteen-year-old guy may as well have been thirteen. “No, just the semester,” he sighed. “Thankfully,” he shook his head. “When you’re not here, you should see some of the things I see.”

She laughed softly. “I can imagine.”

“Do you know anyone besides Allie?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Well, Niall... adjacently,” she amended and shrugged. “He’s friends with my...” she cleared her throat again awkwardly. Harry technically wasn’t her boyfriend. But she didn’t know what to say, suddenly. “With... my friend.”

The guy smiled to himself picking up some empty cups around the fire and tossed them into a nearby bin. She helped as well, bending gracefully so as not to show off her butt. Her knees were stiff with cold, and it felt like her skin was going to break open. “Oh, you mean Harry,” he chuckled. “I was wondering about that status. Everyone is really,” he smirked knowingly. “You’re different than his usual kind of friend,” he didn’t mean anything by it. Just making conversation. But his comment made her heart feel like it weighed about six hundred pounds and sank directly to her feet. She shouldn’t have given it a second thought. Obviously, he wasn’t around long enough to know Harry’s motives or type or anything. Anything he said was basically a rumor. Clearly, her silence was noteworthy. “Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you,” his voice was remorseful and sweet. Especially for an eighteen-year-old. “You just hear a lot by the fire,” he shrugged. “The guy is crazy about you,” he reminded her. “I know I’m just a freshman pledge, but I see a lot. I hear a lot.”

“What was your name again?” She asked. Simultaneously, she wanted the conversation to stop but also wanted to know who he was later on when she had time to ask Allie and her friends. Or even Niall.

He stuck his hand out. “Kyle,” he offered while she shook his hand firmly.

“Kyle,” she repeated. “Well, thank you for keeping me company. Next time, I think we should have s’mores.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes. “My pleasure. You’re fun to talk to,” he smiled. “If Harry didn’t look like he was ready to kill me I would continue the conversation, but,” he pointed behind her and he gave her a wave. “I’ll bring s’mores next time. See ya around,” he meandered back to his station but shifted to the other side of the fire, avoiding Harry’s vision.

She turned to see Harry, pants with the 1960’s themed flower-pants decorating his legs, a brown suede tasseled vest—no shirt, circle glasses with colored lenses, and a chunky peace necklace hung around his neck. The pendant touched just above his navel. How he wasn’t freezing was beyond her. Even in her own dress, long sleeves, with the matching pattern of Harry’s pants, she was nearly shivering because of her bare legs. All those years her mom forced her to wear a jacket while trick or treating—when it was downright warm—were wasted. She wished for a jacket now.

“Hey,” she smiled sweetly.

“Hey, kitten,” he cooed, the irritation in his eyes still just behind the surface. “Y’look beautiful. Y’should wear a flower crown all the time,” he put a hand on her side and kissed her forehead in greeting. Immediately the stares ensued.

“How was work?” She asked.

“Fine, long. Lots of tips tonight,” he grinned, a spark of excitement replacing the irritation immediately. “Can take y’to the fancy restaurant now.”

His hand didn’t move from her side. It warmed her freezing cold body more than the fire did. “We don’t have to do that, Harry. You can save your money. But it does sound nice,” she smiled sweetly.

Harry stepped closer to her. Somehow. She was a good half a foot shorter, even with the chunky heels on that came with the costume. But he still had to bend his neck forward a bit to reach her ear. His hands were on her waist, cupping her hips and she wanted nothing more than to leave this place and snuggle up to him in bed. “I think y’look so sexy,” he whispered.

She blushed, giggled, and shook her head. “I look like I’m about to take the kids I’m babysitting out trick or treating.”

His nose bumped her temple. “No way, kitten. Too sexy t’have a gaggle of kids t’watch on Halloween,” he kissed her head again.

She rested her hands on his bare chest. He was warm. Not cold at all. “Aren’t you cold?” She asked. He chuckled, pulling from her and then wrapping an arm snuggly around her waist. Honestly, pressed to his unclothed skin was the first time in hours she hadn’t felt so cold.

“No, love,” he shook his head. “Have you been freezing?”

“Yes, extremely,” she smiled knowingly. “It’s parka weather.”

He laughed heading toward the house. “It’s barely sweatshirt weather.”

“That’s what Allie said.”

“Where is Miss Allie?”

“Umm...dancing I think,” she sighed. “I envy her confidence.”

Harry pressed his lips to the top of her head, kissed her temple, and smiled against her hair. “Think you’re perfect,” he murmured. No “just as you are” or “like this” was uttered afterwards. It seemed he really meant it.

*

“Hey!” She naturally perked up. It was between classes—her class at noon was cancelled and she didn’t need to be across campus for another hour. Normally, she scarfed down a protein bar and swung into the coffee shop within one of the dining halls to get another caffeinated beverage to hold her over in the afternoon. It was nice to sit and work on her assignments for a bit. She was lucky to get notes from all her classes—one of her peers in each of them was willing to help her out. She emailed her professors as well explaining how she felt like lukewarm death, and she would stay on top of things and be back on track before they knew it. So really, it was nice to have an extra break between her classes to help her get caught up a little more.

But the voice cut through the din of the dining hall and she looked up to see Kyle.

“Oh, hey, Kyle,” she smiled. She cleared a space at the table and gestured for him to sit.

“I never see you at this time,” he noted. She nodded, explained how her class was cancelled and she was getting caught up since she was sick last week. “How was the rest of your Halloweekend?”

It was lovely. Harry bought her a boatload of candy—so many mini bags of Twix bars and they watched three scary movies that had her snuggled close to him for most of the weekend. Harry made special drinks that looked like green, orange, and purple potions. It was adorable, festive, and just really enjoyable. “It was good,” she grinned, thinking about it fondly. “How was yours? Stuck by the fire?”

He laughed dropping his bag beside the table. “Yeah, basically.”

“Do you want to go get food or something? I’ll be here for a while,” she offered.

“Yeah, thanks, that would be great actually. I’ll be right back.”

While he was gone, she checked her phone to see how Harry was doing in class. This class he usually had to pay the most focused attention to, or he would miss something. My class got out early. I’m in the dining hall if you want to swing by when you’re done. If you can’t it’s okay.

I’d leave right now if I could, kitten 😘

Pay attention 😘

Kyle reappeared with a burger and fries. He also had a bag of carrot sticks which she thought was pretty adorable. He pulled his water bottle from his bag and set it out as well. “Whoa, is that a real class?” He asked.

She laughed. “It’s for one of my math classes.”

“That’s hieroglyphics, actually.”

She shook her head, still smiling. “Not a math fan?”

“I’m in pre-calculus and only because I took the placement test online and had someone help me get to it. I didn’t want to take the lower-level class for no credit and still have to pay for it,” he explained. She nodded understandingly.

“Well, I kind of like math, so if you need help, we could find a time to meet.”

His jaw dropped. “Shut up,” he practically gasped. “You’re kidding.”

“Of course,” she was too sweet. Allie said it was going to kill her one day. But Kyle was nice. “The hard part will be making our schedules match up.”

He sighed with relief stuffing three French fries in his mouth. “Wow, thanks, that’s so nice of you,” he murmured around the bite of his burger next. “I’m glad I sat with you instead of my friends today.”

“Oh?” She smirked.

“Yeah,” he glanced across the room to a booth filled with four boys who were all ogling the pair of them. “They all think I’m crazy for talking to a pretty upperclassman,” he admitted. “I told them I knew you from fire duty, but they didn’t believe me.” Her cheeks definitely warmed at the compliment, and she felt herself under the scrutiny of the whole group. “M’sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

Kyle was unlike any eighteen-year-old guy she had ever met in her whole life. The guys in her high school wouldn’t have been able to compete. “Do you have a sister?” She asked.

He nodded. “She goes to a different school, but she’s a senior,” that seemed to explain it. His sister was a year older than her.  “Why?”

“Your compliments are very kind, and I was just thinking that most guys your age—”

He smiled. “Oh... yeah. The guys all think I’m a huge ladies’ man or something,” he told her with an eye roll. He was brushing it off. But she could see it. In a lot of ways, he reminded her of Harry. “My sister just taught me really well how to talk and treat women.”

“That’s really nice,” she smiled. “Are you seeing someone?”

“No, my older brother is a legacy in this frat, so it’s taken up most of my semester—and before, honestly. I used to come to parties with him when I was still in high school because he wanted to show me the ropes. That’s how I know Harry... kind of, just from observing him and being around the frat life. Where is he, by the way?”

“Class, he should be getting out soon.”

He blanched almost immediately. “Oh, I better go then, I don’t want him—”

“What?” She interrupted with a scoff of laughter in her voice. “You don’t have to go. We’re friends,” she rolled her eyes.

“Um... I think Harry is a bit of the jealous type when it comes to you,” he explained. “I heard he punched someone at one of the parties you didn’t go to because they were talking about you. Plus, the guy in your sociology class wouldn’t keep his mouth shut and Niall had to tell him to shut it, or Harry would shut it for him.”

For a moment, she forgot how to breathe—or exist. She blinked; her eyes closed for a long moment before she looked at him curiously. “I’m sorry, what?” She tilted her head. She had heard rumors of course. The ones of inadequacy, difference of his previous relationships, just complete surprise in Harry being with her in general.

To hear that Harry was jealous—to the point of violence? How did she miss that? “He punched someone?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. I wasn’t in the room. But I know he definitely yelled,” Kyle shrugged taking another bite of his burger. Her jaw dropped.

The rumors didn’t bother her—not for why they should have bothered her. The feeling of inadequacy definitely hurt, but that was something she kind of worked out with Harry on her own. Violent outbursts were too much for her. Hopefully that was nothing more than a rumor. “Hey kitten,” she was lost in thought, didn’t even notice Harry approached. Looking up, she saw him staring at Kyle, seated across from her.

She shook her head to get her brain functioning again. “Oh,” she smiled. “Hi, you’re out early,” she stood up and pecked his cheek. He seemed stiff. Kyle paled while Harry continued staring and she felt so uneasy about seeing jealous Harry firsthand. Poor Kyle began cleaning up his stuff as quickly as he could. She put a hand on his arm to still him and he nearly ripped his arm away from her. Poor thing. “Do you know Kyle?” She asked as if he hadn’t almost taken his whole arm off at her touch. But she noted the way Harry shifted. “He’s usually on fire duty,” she explained sitting back in her seat. “I chatted with him on Halloweekend.”

Harry’s gaze was stiff, cold, and nothing like how he looked at her at all. “Kyle,” he repeated.

“Kyle was telling me he’s struggling with math,” she looked at Harry curiously, almost suspiciously. “You can vouch for me, right? I’m a pretty good tutor,” she giggled, and Harry loosened ever so slightly.

“Yeah, she’s a genius, I think,” Harry slid into the booth seat beside her. He kissed her forehead. “M’jus’ gonna grab a quick snack,” he explained and left his bag beside her.

“What are you doing?” She asked as Kyle continued to clean up his stuff.

The color in Kyle’s face returned to normal and he sighed with relief when Harry left. “He’s gonna kill me.”

“Kyle,” she snorted. “We’re friends. He’ll get over it.”

“My friends are tweaking out over there.”

She glanced at them briefly to see them all snickering and smacking each other at their friend’s discomfort. “I see that,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s just a little protective,” she offered.

“I don’t blame him; you’re very pretty and nice,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve been at a lot of these parties and no one ever gives me the time of day," he murmured right before Harry reappeared.

“Kyle, y’brother was in Niall’s frat,” Harry said placing his food in front of him—a pre-made sandwich and a bottle of apple juice—which she thought was the cutest thing in the world to see a twenty-one-year-old guy who was hotter than the sun drinking a bottle of apple juice with his sandwich. “What was his name?”

Kyle gulped almost audibly; he was so uncomfortable it was palpable in the air. “Uh... Jesse,” he answered eventually. “He graduated last year. But I went to parties a lot. Showed the ropes kind of thing.”

“Ah,” Harry nodded. “Well, thanks for keeping m’girlfriend company. Don’t know if she told you, she’s from the south. So s’pretty cold without the fire,” he placed a hand beneath the table on her thigh. It made her swoon internally.

Girlfriend.

She could feel her whole face soften and the word. Her heart rate began to fly. She glanced at Harry from the corner of her eye to see if he was having a meltdown internally like she was. He wasn’t. It was as if this was just another ordinary moment of her life, and her heart wasn’t screaming.

Kyle must have heard the designation as well because his smile brightened, and she swore his eye twinkled in acknowledgment. “I didn’t know that. Makes a lot of sense,” he seemed a little more at ease now that Harry had turned off the protective tone. But worry was still just below the surface of his eyes. “Uh... would it be cool to get your number to help with the whole tutoring stuff?” He asked looking at his own phone. She wished she could look at Harry’s face when the poor thing asked. Kyle may as well have been asking Harry for it like some kind of dowry.

“Of course,” she said quickly and pulled her phone up to a new contact and handed it to him. She put her hand on Harry’s, still on her leg. She squeezed it while Kyle cleared his throat and passed it back to her.

“Thank you, my... my mom will appreciate the help,” he admitted, shyly.

“Happy to help,” she promised with a smile. “Thanks for keeping me company again.”

His face paled again, Harry’s grip on her thigh tightened at the same time. “I gotta go,” he gestured to his friends still staring at the three of them. “Thanks for the help, see you around.”

As soon as he was gone, she turned more directly to Harry, getting a good view of his profile. He sipped his apple juice. “Did you punch a guy?” She asked. He rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Of course not.”

“Well, I thought that too, but you almost melted poor Kyle with your laser vision there,” she pressed a hand to the side of his face. Harry smirked under her touch. His cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink.

“M’jus...” he sighed. “Y’have t’understand, kitten. I’ve never felt this way ‘bout someone before. M’not usually the jealous type. Y’can ask Mitch and Sarah. M’not one t’play dick goalie; if someone wanted t’be in a relationship with someone else, m’not gonna make myself sick with worry,” he shrugged. “But you?” He shook his head. “S’like there’s this bug in m’head. The whole picnic was nice, but y’deserve more. M’ready t’do anything t’keep you to myself. T’give you all y’want and more.”

“And you think poor, baby freshman Kyle is going to give me more?” She asked sarcasm dripping in her voice. But it was still kind how she said it. She could hear the worry in Harry’s voice. It was unnecessary, but nonetheless sweet. She couldn’t believe he liked her so much.

“He already has a crush on you,” he grumbled and bit into his sandwich.

“He does not,” but the heat rising to her cheeks didn’t help her case.

“Of course, he does, love,” Harry rolled his eyes. “A hot, upperclassman talking t’a freshman? I’d’ve written our names in a notebook.”

“He’s harmless,” she promised.

“He is, but s’jus’ furthering m’point,” he smiled. “M’literally dating you and ‘ve got a huge crush on you. You’re nice, funny, and beautiful. S’like y’were made in a lab.”

“You forgot I’m good at math,” she teased.

“Don’t remind me. Don’t know why you’re slumming it with me.”

She smiled, shaking her head. “I didn’t know we were boyfriend and girlfriend,” it sounded so cheesy saying it out loud. She hoped he wouldn’t think she was ridiculous but it really ached in her chest.

“Kitten, we have been since y’agreed t’sit with me in class,” he smirked. “Y’should’ve asked,” he kissed the top of her head.

She laughed. “That long?”

“Mhmm...” he hummed and draped his arm around her and pulled her closer. “Did y’think this was just a little fling or something?”

“No,” she cleared her throat. “Or, I hoped not. But...” she shrugged. “I know I’m not like the other girls you’ve dated. And I know I’m kind of lame—”

“Please don’t talk about my lovely girlfriend like that,” he winked cutely. She rolled her eyes.

“I would be extremely jealous if I saw a girl flirting with you,” she told him.

His flirty smile disappeared, a frown replacing his entire face. “I would never make y’jealous intentionally. I haven’t noticed anyone since I met you, kitten,” he promised. “I really don’t want y’to worry ‘bout me. I know y’hear rumors and I can imagine they bug you, but s’all they are. If there’s ever something y’want t’know, y’can ask. I won’t... blame y’for asking.”

“I trust you,” her voice was so firm, she hoped he knew that. This conversation was almost too serious for a dining hall, but she was kind of glad to be talking about all of it. “Really, truly. Allie is gonna take a little longer to believe you, but even she said you act differently around me.”

“S’good to know,” he smirked. “I’ll work on it. M’glad y’trust me.”

She smiled. “You trust me, right?”

“I do, I really do, kitten. Believe me, s’all the guys that are right to flirt with you that make me crazy. They see someone so beautiful and kind,” he shook his head. “M’no better than them, honestly.”

For a moment, she just looked at him. It was hard to believe he was so crazy about her. After all he had told her, and all the issues she had within her mind, making her feel a little insane at times, Harry didn’t care. He assuaged every worry. Every minor little problem or fear she had, he plucked it right out and assured her that everything was lovely.

She leaned upward and pecked his cheek again. “No punching someone,” she said simply. “I have to get to class, are you going to stay here?” She asked.

“Leave you t’walk with the wolves?” He asked, packaging his sandwich up and putting his juice in his bag. “Absolutely, not,” he rolled his eyes. She giggled and she couldn’t help but notice how Harry’s smile brightened as she did.

*

Prior to university, Harry’s teachers told him and his classmates how they would have so much free time in college. Which was true in a way; Harry had a lot of time to join a club sport, hold down a job, go to the gym, enjoy himself as much as he wanted. However, all those extra curriculars and obligations he gave himself created a packed schedule. The fear of insurmountable debt made him pick up shifts even when he didn’t want to.

It was a miracle he found a girlfriend as busy as he was. If she had more free time, Harry worried she would find someone who had more time for him. But between working, classes, studying, and going for runs with Allie (although she assured Harry that it was mostly walking for the better part of ninety minutes and followed by a half hour of stretching), they mainly saw each other at bedtime.

“I think we’re an old married couple,” Harry murmured into her hair. He loved the feel of her body close to his. Having her in his arms was where he wanted her most.

“We haven’t fought about hair in the shower drain yet,” she reminded him.

“S’because all of it’s in m’mouth right now,” he spluttered, pretending to spit her hair out of his mouth. She twisted around, facing him, he smiled at her. “M’jus’ kidding. I would eat your hair,” he joked.

“You’re insane.”

“’Bout you.”

“Somewhere in the future is a true crime podcast about you murdering me,” she had this habit of placing her hand on his face and skimming her thumb across his cheek. It was soothing, if he wasn’t careful, he would fall asleep before finishing their chat. She threw her voice to do a monologued intro. “He was so handsome. No one suspected that he had a hair fetish that would devolve into full-blown cannibalism.”

He laughed and brought his mouth close to hers. “I wouldn’t eat you, kitten. M’not a psychopath,” he rolled his eyes. “I would probably just keep your body preserved and play house with it.”

She nodded. “Well, that’s a relief.”

He chuckled, rolled his eyes again. “Go to sleep.”

“M’worried you’ll kill me when I’ve let my guard down,” she yawned. “S’always the husband. After twenty-five years of marriage,” she reminded him.

“S’a risk we all take, I think.”

“Can you at least text Allie that she can have my clothes?”

“First on m’to do list after I clean up the blood.”

“I don’t think we should watch scary movies before bed anymore.”

“Yes, dear.”

She giggled. For a few moments they just gazed at one another. Her eyes got droopier, her breath slower. “Good night, Harry,” she whispered.

“Good night, kitten,” he answered just as softly. His tongue was twitching to say three more words. Words that, realistically, he wanted to say the moment he met her. His heart ached to say them as much as his tongue. Part of him wondered if she would say it back. Was it too early? She hadn’t been in love before. He needed it to be special when he said it. Was he prepared if she didn’t say it back?

Her face nuzzled into his collarbone; a sigh escaped her, completely content. He wondered if she was already asleep. Maybe he would just whisper it to her sleeping form for practice. Was he being ridiculous? Was it too soon? No, he never felt like this when he dated before her. “Thanks for being my boyfriend,” her voice was so gentle, so sweet. “I like it a lot.”

He kissed her forehead, his heart cracking under the pressure of how adorable she was. “Pleasure’s all mine, love,” despite how badly he wanted to say it, he wanted it to be more special for her. She deserved that.

*

Harry called his mum as often as he could to check in. It was usually twice a week and texts every day. He was sitting outside the restaurant in the cold, trying to ease his mind off the packed schedule he had for the next couple weeks. It was hard to believe it was mid-November. Finals and their holiday break would be right around the corner. “Hi honey-bunny,” his mum said into the phone. “You on break?” She asked.

“Yeah, hi Mum; how are you?”

“Missing my baby,” she cooed.

He chuckled. “M’jus’ calling ’cause I have a free minute.”

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. “How’s our leading lady?” She asked.

Harry smiled to himself, despite being alone, his cheeks surely turned pink. Shortly after his breakfast with Mitch, he called his mum to tell her that he met her; the girl he was certain he was going to marry her. “She’s good,” he nearly sighed dreamily. “Do y’want to meet her?” He asked.

“Of course I do!” She nearly cheered. “M’sure she’s lovely.”

“Y’know, her family’s down south. M’not sure what her plans are for the holiday break,” he shrugged. “If she’s stuck here because of flights, could I invite her home?”

“Oh of course! I’ll have to get her a stocking.”

“Er...don’t scare her Mum,” he laughed lightly. “I don’t know if she can yet.”

“Well, you’re certain you’re going to marry her, I better get one anyway.”

His mum was all on board for having a daughter-in-law. One that was sweet and perfect for her little baby boy. Gemma was excited to have someone to poke fun with and truly, she’d always wanted a sister as well. Harry felt his stomach flip at the thought. While his mum was a strong supporter and kind about who Harry fell in love with, Gemma was the slightest bit more skeptical. When he called her earlier in the semester about the pretty girl, Gemma was happy for him. “Harry, you’re very young still. I’m young. Are you sure you want to settle for the first girl you think is the one?”

“S’not settling, Gem. You haven’t met her,” he assured her. “S’not even close to settling,” he promised. “I know m’young...but...’ve wanted t’meet her for a really long time,” he told her. Gemma knew that. Her younger brother, the sweet six-foot giant, had been graced with a heart bigger than anyone she knew. He was empathetic, adoring, and always kind. As much as he hated bugs and spiders, he always wanted them to be saved when they were younger and placed neatly outside so as not to upset their little insect families. Harry dreamed about getting married the first time he had a crush on a pretty girl in his grade school classes. His heart was broken on Valentine’s Day when she didn’t send him a Valentine, but he had pored over his glittery heart craft that he had slipped into her school mailbox. The heartache only lasted a little while—he was only seven at the time—but he wanted love. It was obvious. Gemma and her Mum had cultivated his love of Rom-Coms and they were his first line of advice when he needed help with gifts for the girl he was seeing.

Gemma knew that Harry dated a bit, desperately searching for the lady that he thought would appear long before he went to university. So as much as Gemma tried to quell his excitement over the object of all his affections and remind him how young he was to find the love of his life, Gemma knew that she was different. The way she had captured her brother’s heart so entirely was a beautiful sign.

“Gemma will want to meet her too,” Mum brought him back to the present. His break was waning, and he would need to get back inside momentarily. “I’m really happy you’re happy, Harry.”

His heart felt so whole, it nearly hurt. “Me too, Mum.”

“Have a good rest of your day, honey bunny. Love you.”

“Love you too, Mum, talk to you soon.”

*

When they walked to class, it was freezing. Even for Harry. Which meant it was probably insufferable for her. Her hands were stuffed in her coat pockets, Harry desperately wanted to hold her hand but couldn’t bring himself to steal it from the warmth inside her jacket. “Y’really wanted t’come up here away from the warmth?” he murmured his question.

The leaves were no longer the warm hues of a sunset colors. They wilted into chestnut, sepia colors and piled along fences outlining the campus. The ground was hard beneath her feet, and she wondered if her coat was going to be thick enough to make it through the winter. She smiled. Her cheeks were wind-blown pink, and her nose was a little runny, but Harry thought she had never looked more beautiful. “Yes, wouldn’t have met you otherwise,” she said immediately. He chuckled, his cheeks turning their own shade of pink.

“Wait till y’see the snow,” he reminded her.

“I’m so excited for snow,” she sounded excited. God, he wanted to hold her hand so badly. She pulled a gloved hand out of her pocket at the very moment and pulled a strand of hair away from her lips. “I need hot chocolate,” she grabbed Harry’s hand between them and squeezed it, making him ache with more adoration for her. “Do you work today?”

He did, but it was a short shift. “Jus’ till nine.”

“So hot chocolate at your place?”

He wondered if she could see the somersaults his heart was doing in his eyes. “Please,” he squeezed her hand back. “I’d love that, kitten.”

She brought their hands to her cold lips and kissed the back of his hand. Harry was certain he was going to start sweating with how warm the gesture was and he couldn’t bring himself to care about how ridiculous it all was.

*

Fortunately, Saturday was much warmer than their hot chocolate date. It was still cool, but around the fire, it wasn’t nearly as frigid or achy. Harry once more showed up after his shift. Glancing through the gossip column that was his text messages.

Your girlfriend is awfully cozy with the Fire Marshall.

He knew that it was just to get a rise out of him. He didn’t even have the number saved. But it didn’t mean it didn’t work. After nearly sprinting most of the way from his parking spot to Niall’s house, he had to slow to a walk and take a few laps around the block to ease the anxiety in his mind. Kyle was just her friend. She was kind. She was lovely. Harry knew there was nothing he needed to worry about with her. It wasn’t her.

It was just that she was drop dead gorgeous and Kyle had a massive crush on her. His eye twitched and he rubbed at it as he meandered into the yard. The thought of them having a study session also didn’t help his anxious mind. This was a horrible feeling. He wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.

Fortunately, he saw Allie chatting with a group of her friends in the front yard. Some drinking game was definitely happening—it involved cornhole, which he felt of all the games they could have played, it was probably the least dangerous. He gave her a wave. “Hi Harry! She’s out back by the fire!” She shouted. That seemed like Five-Drink-Allie if he had to bet. Poor thing was going to have a killer headache in the morning.

He chuckled, saluted her, and headed around the side of the house. He saw the bonfire and the pair standing by it. They were close together and his heart skipped a beat feeling anxious and hot as he watched while approaching. “S’mores?” He asked.

“Hi, Harry,” she cooed sweetly standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. Almost immediately, the fiery envy in his heart disappeared and was replaced with adoration once more.

“Hi, kitten,” he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Kyle provided s’mores,” she said knowingly. “Now it’s a real party,” she explained holding the s’mores stick out toward the flame. “Do you like good marshmallows or bad marshmallows?” She asked.

Harry chuckled. “Sounds a bit loaded...What’s a good marshmallow?”

“Not charred on the outside,” Kyle rolled his eyes. A pang of frustration went through Harry over the idea that they had an inside joke he was not privy to. “She’s very serious about this.”

“Golden brown is best,” she explained.

“Sorry kitten, m’a charred s’more kinda guy,” Harry smiled.

She scoffed. “Horrible. Both of you. Wasting marshmallows,” she grumbled.

“M’gonna grab a drink. You’ll be here?” He asked.

“Yeah of course, I think Niall was looking for you,” she added reaching for the chocolate and graham crackers they had placed on a jacket on the ground. It must have been Kyle’s because there was no way she would part with a jacket if she were wearing it, no matter how warm it was by the fire; he was sure her icicle self couldn’t do it. “I’ll make you a gross s’more for when you come back; take your time,” she smiled. Harry winked at her, nodded to Kyle, and headed inside.

He found Niall hovering near the makeshift bar. Grateful he could just ask his friend to sneak him a can directly from the fridge without having to distract the freshman bartender for the tenth time in the semester. “Harry!” He cheered. Niall wasn’t drunk; it took a lot for someone so Irish to get drunk at all. But he was friendly. Harry was certain he would greet him the same way, first thing in the morning. “Mitch and Sarah are here,” he pointed toward a group of people over by the pong table. It looked like a game of quarters this week, but he couldn’t be certain. Niall got closer to him and murmured in his ear while he asked the freshman bartender for something to drink as well. “Is Kyle bugging your lady?” He asked. Niall looked at him knowingly, reading between the lines, Harry knew it wasn’t about her, it was entirely about himself.

“No,” he shook his head. “They’re friends.”

“I can tell him to cool it,” he offered.

Harry nodded. “S’fine,” he promised coolly grateful it was dark, so Niall probably missed the way his eye twitched. Part of him wanted to go steal her away and just take her home. Niall nodded.

“Alright, just checking. He’s a good kid,” he promised.

“Seems it,” Harry agreed. “Game tomorrow?” He asked. Niall nodded, excitedly.

“Yessir,” he saluted and slugged back more of his drink. Harry chuckled circling over to Mitch and Sarah. Sarah was clinging to Mitch. A good sign that she had more than her standard two drinks and was getting a little tipsier than normal.

“I got a great grade on my exam,” she giggled.

Mitch smirked and rolled his eyes. “I see,” Harry laughed. “Celebrating, are we?”

She nodded and held her cup out for Harry to clink with his own plasticky sound. “Is my new best friend coming over tonight for a sleepover? I want those scones she made last week!” Sarah nearly had hearts in her eyes at the thought. Mitch chuckled, kissed the side of her head, while wrapping an arm around her tightly.

“M’sure she can,” Harry chuckled. Allie happened into the room at that point and Harry waved her over.

“Hi!” She chirped and gave Sarah a hug.

“Do you two have plans tomorrow?” Harry asked. “Sarah wants scones.”

“Oh, so do I,” Allie bounced on her toes excitedly.

“You should sleepover too!” Sarah cheered excitedly. “We can put the boys in one room,” she suggested. Mitch snorted and rolled his eyes. He sipped his drink and looked Harry knowingly.

It sounded adorable, honestly. Bringing two facets of his life so close together. But part of him dreaded not spending the night snuggled up to the pretty girl.

“But no, we don’t have plans—I’m not sure if she’s working though...where is—? Oh no,” Allie seemed to sober immediately dropping her cup, spilling it on Mitch and Sarah’s feet before she ran out the back door. Without looking, Harry dropped his cup and the seltzer he had for her and followed suit. He sensed Mitch and Sarah on his heels.

About a foot from the fire, she was standing between Kyle and another guy. Harry didn’t know his name. The s’mores were abandoned, and Kyle had a murderous look in his eye. “Kyle, it’s fine,” she promised as he approached.

“No, it’s not,” he snapped. “Get out of the way,” he ground out to her but she was pressed up against him, her entire back protectively pressed in front of him.

“What are you going to do Freshmeat? Big brother’s not here to get you out of this one,” the other guy taunted shoving Kyle despite the fact she was between them. She smacked his hand.

“Stop it,” she scowled at him. Honestly, Harry thought it would have been cute had he not been so furious.

“Hey!” Allie shouted at the same time Harry shoved the other guy away almost immediately.

“Harry!” She shouted pushing Kyle back another step.

“Back off,” Harry snarled.

“Oh, so you’re okay sharing her with a freshman, but not—”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence,” Sarah warned.

She was holding Kyle’s arm trying to keep him calm. “Harry, let’s just go,” she whispered nervously. “Please,” she added, her voice catching.

“What did you say to her?” Harry growled, eyeing him. It was obvious he had too much to drink.

“Harry,” Allie warned coming to her side. “It’s okay, let’s just go.”

“You better take care of your girl, Styles. Or someone will do it for you,” he warned. Harry felt so hot with rage it was hotter than the fire.

“Harry,” Mitch said lowly. “Let’s just go,” he repeated.

“I’m getting Niall,” Allie sped back for the house.

Harry set his jaw, glaring at him, and turned his attention briefly to her and Kyle. “Are you alright?” He asked, his voice tight.

She nodded. “Very okay. I just want to go,” she whispered.

Harry backed up toward Kyle and her. He grabbed her hand and tugged her with him as quickly as he could. “Teasing slut,” he muttered lowly.

But not low enough.

Harry smiled, shook his head, and reeled around. “Wanna repeat that?” He asked.

“Harry,” her voice was close to tears, begging. “Harry, please.”

“Hey!” Niall shouted hurrying out the house in front of Allie.

“I said, she’s a ‘teasing slut.’ You’re just lucky you got to her first—”

“HEY!” Niall repeated but Kyle was the one that lunged at the same time.

“Kyle!” She shouted.

Harry yanked the poor kid away and shoved him back toward Mitch and Sarah. “Harry!” She begged again, apparently unafraid to get close to the action. Niall yanked her back just as fast as Harry pulled Kyle away and Harry started to lunge. With Allie and Sarah holding Kyle back, Mitch grabbed Harry before he could throw a single punch. The drunk idiot cackled at the drama and shook his head.

“Let’s go,” Mitch ordered fiercely. She sighed with relief grabbing his arm and pulling him close to her. Niall shoved the other guy back toward the house.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He almost felt as angry as he was moments ago. “S’not your fault, love,” Niall assured her with a smile. “Harry, y’good?” He asked. Harry nodded stiffly looking at the ground. “Kyle,” Niall looked at the younger one trapped between Sarah and Allie. “You good?”

He nodded once. “M’fine,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Sorry. He was so pushy. I just thought he was trying to drug her or something,” he promised.

Harry tensed up so hard he thought he would tear a muscle just standing there. She shivered. “Thank you, Kyle. But you didn’t need to do all that,” her voice was soft but almost warning—like a mum to her child. “I wasn’t going to drink anything he offered me,” she promised. “You could have gotten really hurt,” she reminded him.

Harry envied her coolness right now. He was fuming and while she was speaking as gently as she could to Kyle, her hand was roaming his arm just as gently. “Worth it,” he promised. They needed to leave quickly, or Harry was going to let all his jealous emotions surge through him.

“I’m ordering an Uber back,” Sarah said. “S’too cold and you’re too hotheaded to walk—you’ll end up sprinting,” she said to Harry. “How many?” She asked. It was determined all five of them would be leaving.

“You’ll watch him?” She asked Niall quietly and gestured toward Kyle who was picking up the trash around the fire.

“Always,” he winked. “Sorry ‘bout the drama, love.”

“Comes with the territory, I think,” she squeezed Harry’s hand.

“You’ll watch him?” Niall asked.

She smiled. “Always.”

*

Allie did a really good job realizing she was going to throw up the moment she got into Casa Mitch and Harry. “Sarah, can you get some meds and a soda?” She asked.

“You’re the bestest friend there ever was,” Allie moaned laying on the floor beside the toilet. Sarah smirked and handed over the supplies and doubled back for a pillow and a blanket.

“Scones in the morning?” Sarah asked.

“Sounds great,” she smiled sweetly. It was obvious Harry was still on edge. He headed into his bedroom and paced while she finished up with Sarah and Allie.

“You good there, Al?” She asked.

She held up a thumb that sort of leaned a little more than halfway down than it did up. Smirking, she waved to Mitch and Sarah gave her arm a squeeze. “Good night, Harry,” Sarah called gently.

“Shout if you need something, Allie,” she pushed her friend’s hair back and left her to sleep on the cold tile. She quietly closed Harry’s bedroom door and waited while Harry continued pacing.

“What did he say?” He snapped.

“Harry, it’s not—”

“Kitten, m’begging,” he looked at her so hurt, so terribly sad, she nearly caved.

“It was nothing, Harry. It’ll do no good to talk it out. You’ll just get mad—”

“M’jus’ gonna ask Kyle,” Harry was still fuming as he paced.

“Harry,” she repeated. “Please. I’m telling you; it was nothing. Please believe me.”

Harry pressed his head against the window. The lights illuminating the paths to the different buildings were soft and the room was otherwise dark. “M’sorry, kitten,” he mumbled. “M’jus’ mad.”

“I know.”

Harry turned and looked at her. He hardly got a sedcond to look at how pretty she was. “You look beautiful, my love,” he murmured. “S’no wonder y’got him all flustered,” he smirked.

She sighed; the relief palpable in the air. “I’m so sorry.”

“Y’did nothing,” he shook his head. “M’jus...crazy ‘bout you, kitten. I’m sorry,” he grabbed her hands and brought them to his lips. Her fingers were still cold, and he frowned. “M’sorry,” he repeated and blew his breath across her hands to warm them.

She looked utterly distraught. “He’s going to lie,” she croaked suddenly. Her throat closing around the emotion. “He’s going to say I was making out with Kyle or something. It’s not true Harry, you have to know that. Any rumor you hear tomorrow, it’s unequivocally false,” she had tears in her eyes.

“Baby,” Harry whispered. “I would never believe someone over you.”

“No?” She hiccupped softly.

He cupped her face. “Course not, love,” he kissed her forehead, and it melted her icy body so immensely. The first time in an hour that she felt calm. “M’sorry he said something to you, or about you.”

“It’s...it’s okay,” she promised. “I know you’re probably still... jealous of him, or whatever, but I was really glad Kyle was there,” she told him. “I wished you were, but it was good.”

“Don’t ever stand between me and someone that wants t’hurt you,” he warned. The one thing he would probably blame Kyle for from then on.

“Kyle’s just a baby,” she reminded him.

“I don’t want t’talk ‘bout Kyle anymore.”

She giggled. “Okay.”

Harry pulled his shirt over his head. “Let’s go to bed. We have scones t’bake in the morning.”

*

Harry woke to about thirty messages from a variety of people all claiming to know bits and pieces of everything about last night. Other than Niall’s, he deleted every single message without so much as a glance at the details. Instead, he looked at the sleepy girl, tucked near his chest. He brushed her hair behind her ear.

There was a knock. “Are you naked?” Allie asked. He snorted.

“No,” he murmured quietly.

Despite the fact she had thrown up, she looked pretty good. “I used your toothbrush,” she said climbing into the bed beside her best friend. Harry shook his head.

“Hi Allie,” she murmured.

“Hi sweetie,” she yawned. “You going to make Sarah and I some scones?”

She nodded, tucking her face into Harry’s chest. “In a minute.”

The twin bed was not made for three people and Harry thought it was quite hilarious. “Should I get out t’let y’snuggle?”

“Please,” Allie yawned and threw an arm over her eyes. He chuckled and kissed the sweet girl’s forehead before climbing out of bed.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

“I’ll make sure we have everything,” he suggested. “Need a new toothbrush,” he rolled his eyes.

“I like Harry,” Allie whispered.

“I do too.”

*

While cleaning their little kitchen, Harry couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how much he loved her. It was becoming impossible to not say it every chance he got. But he wanted it to be special. More special than he could ever describe. He was sure she wouldn’t care, but it meant more to him that it be special. Especially after he flubbed their first real date.

“What?” She smiled as she looked up from the dishes in the sink.

“Do y’want t’go away next weekend?” He asked. “Before finals get too crazy?”

He was envisioning a romantic weekend away at Mitch’s family’s cabin up the mountain. Quiet, cold, for sure, but warm in the cabin. Just the two of them. He could tell her he loved her. No distractions. Shopping in the little town, cooking together in a full kitchen, sleeping by the fireplace, and just sweetness and a special weekend for the pair of them.

“Do I need to bring anything special?” She asked.

“Another coat, probably," he chuckled.

Her smiled was a mixture of relief and happiness. “I would love that.”

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

my friend's toyota taglist: @daphnesutton @storyschanging @vamprry @lovingfurypanda @inkedskin

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

[monzamash]

unless you like that — daniel ricciardo

summary – it’s events season and the alcohol is flowing.  rating – a whole lotta smut 18+ (sex scene, course language, drinking) pairing – daniel ricciardo x you (female reader) word count – 3.8k of absolute filth a/n – bit of plot but mostly just sex because drunk, flirty danny ric makes me feral. that's it. enjoy the ride. masterlist

All you wanted to do was drag Daniel back to your hotel room, get reacquainted after a couple of torturous weeks of being apart, maybe run a hot bath and enjoy the rest of your night in peace.

In your dreams.

You never really had Daniel for long during the season and because of that, you wanted to make the most of your time actually being in the same country, let alone the same city. But your handsome, social butterfly of a boyfriend had other ideas – ones that didn’t factor in your desire to have him all to yourself.

So good to see ya too, mate.

We’ve gotta catch up next time you’re in LA, man.

Maaaate, long time no see!

How’s ya mum going? Tell her I said hi.

The mum's bloody loved themselves a bit of Daniel Ricciardo.

The long, doting line of people wanting to wish Daniel good luck for next year and praising his strength through adversity while getting a sneaky selfie was never ending. To put it plainly, it was obnoxious but you were used to it now. He was effervescent, charismatic – a big ‘ol magnet to anyone and everyone. You loved him endlessly, admired his ability to smile through the pain even more but all you wanted to do was say goodnight to everyone and leave.

Barely two words were shared before you were whisked off in a car and through the doors of this swanky restaurant – the private function room and bottomless champagne making it less excruciating.

“All I can think about is getting this over and done with so I can come back here and rip this unbelievably beautiful dress off you.”

Those ‘barely two words’ were enough ammunition to last you a couple of hours, holding onto the hope of that promise coming true. But right now you had to try and enjoy the night and put any filthy thoughts you may or may not be having aside for the sake of your own sanity. Smile and wave.

You didn’t know exactly what the party was for but you knew that the McLaren team were the ones throwing it from the obnoxious amount of orange balloons hanging from the ceiling – and that Daniel was obliged to attend. But you would never have guessed that he was there as a contractual obligation the way he floated through the room, saying hello to every last individual, bright smile adorning his face. He made each and every person feel like a million bucks. That’s why they loved him, because he made them feel at ease – like he was one of them.

Daniel didn’t think there was a whole lot for him to be celebrating but he always underestimated how loved he was by McLaren – racing problems aside, he was adored by the staff who were devastated to see him leaving.

And somehow in a room of nearly a hundred people, he knew nearly everyone by name, zeroing in long enough to have them eating out of the palm of his hand.

Your words, not his.

“Could you say hello to my grandson – he loves you.” An older lady asked, phone locked and loaded for the video. God help him if he said no.

“Absolutely.”

Of course he said yes. That was the kind of person Daniel was. Not a people pleaser or a push over – just a genuinely nice guy with more patience than anyone you’d ever known.

After making your way around most of the room, you finally had a second to drink in your man. The freshly steamed, light blue linen shirt was lazily buttoned over his shoulders, leaving a the tiniest bit of chest hair showing for good measure and to tease you, no doubt. He’d gone for his classic black skinny jeans sitting atop a pair of shiny black dress shoes look that you loved and those wild curls that you’d spent hours twirling between your fingers flowed onto his forehead – he looked so fucking good.

His charm and kindness always had you singing his praises and you made sure he knew how wonderful he was, how attractive he was. Your soft whispers of admiration had his heart pumping as he took a sip of his Chateau Margaux red, lips quirked in a smile. “So sexy.”

“Which part of all that was sexy? The bit where I filmed a video for that women’s grandkid? You are an absolute deviant if that’s makin’ ya feel a certain way, my girl.”

Daniel loved to tease, especially when it garnered that kind of reaction. Rolling eyes, flushed cheeks and a gentle shove in the arm. He fucking lived for it.

“No, dickhead.” You scolded under your breath, “Just… you being you. I don’t know what it is.”

You couldn’t put your finger on it but you knew how it made you feel. Seduced.

“Maybe you can figure it out in our hotel room.”

Daniel shrugged with a smirk lining his lips, nonchalantly throwing out the idea as if he hadn’t been plotting a way to leave the party early. Wishing for nothing more than to have you praising his other set of skills, if you catch my drift. Rolling your eyes with flushed cheeks but in a very different context. He was twitching at the thought as his fingertips lightly scratched at the silky material covering your ribs, dragging your body closer to his.

“Don’t tempt me, Ricciardo. All I’ve wanted since the second we got here was to leave so don’t talk a big game if you can’t deliver.” You were whispering in his ear, hoping to spur on those scheming eyes staring back at you.

“When have I not delivered? Just call me FedEx,” He joked, swaggering away from the bar and waving to Lando who had just rocked up with his crew in tow.

“Do we even know what this party’s for?” Lando asked over the loud music blasting through the speakers, taking the smallest step back after he gave us both a hug hello.

Lando looked dapper compared to his usual hoodie and track pants ensemble that he'd wear around the track. He was slightly confused by the overt extravagance he’d walked into but he was always smiling your way, making you feel welcome. You were going to miss his cheekiness and the way he brought out a different side to Daniel. Mischief always seemed to follow those two.

“Probably just a way for McLaren to swing their dick around before the end of the season,” Daniel shrugged, completely oblivious to how crude his comment was. Thankfully Lando was more than used to it now after working so closely with him so you didn’t have to apologise on Daniel’s behalf.

“The wine’s ace though.” He quickly added.

“You would say that,” Lando replied, snickering quietly as he looked over at the bar, “Might actually grab a drink and come back. Want anything?"

Lando looked between you and Daniel as you both shook your heads until he turned away and disappeared into the crowd, “Kid’s not gonna know what hit him next year – being the golden boy isn’t what it’s cracked up to be…”

You nodded and watched Daniel’s eyes following Lando, pensively taking a sip of his wine before sighing and glancing back to you, “What?”

“Nothing,” You tutted, “It’s funny how much you care about him now after how rocky the relationship was in the beginning. I love that he’s softened you a little bit, made you less of a prick.” You winked.

The insincere insult tacked onto the end made Daniel’s thick eyebrows rise with faux hurt, an exaggerated gasp masterfully added for emphasis, “Me? A prick? I wouldn’t reckon a prick snags a girl like you.”

You watched as Daniel sculled the rest of his wine, a devilish smirk hiding behind the large glass, “No chance. Unless you like that.”

“I don’t hate it.”

Daniel's laugh was dark as he took a step forward, lessening the gap between the two of you before reaching up and brushing your hair over your shoulder, “Now you’re tempting me and that’s not fair.” He whispered into your ear, carefully placing his empty glass on the table beside you.

“Nothings really fair though, is it? You having to be here instead of buried deep inside me, fucking me until I –”

“The bar line’s a fucking ‘mare,” Lando loudly interrupted and caused you to jump back from Daniel’s side. You steadied yourself on his hip for balance as you watched Lando plot his next move.

“Oh, there’s Charlotte – she’ll have an in!”

You and Daniel politely nodded again while he shot off in the other direction, and the two of you shifted away from the middle of the room, out of view of prying eyes and into a private nook. Daniel was quick to pin you up against the wall, large hand pressing into your hip as you looked up at him with innocent eyes. He could see right through you.

“Don’t give me that look,” He growled, eyes narrowed. “Look at what you do to me.���

His whispered words and flickering eyes encouraged your hands that were playing with his slightly parted shirt to travel further south, fingertips tracing over his dark denim jeans that were a lot tighter than when he first got here. Almost too tight.

“You are fuckin’ cruel, sweetheart.”

The painfully hard outline pressing against your palm intoxicated your already foggy mind, mouth watering. You could feel your thighs magnetically pulling together as his thumb flicked the dimple in your chin, forcing you to look into his dark, misty eyes that were watching your every move.

"Want me to do something about it?" It was a bold question to ask, a dangerous one, even when you noticed his eyes change colour. They were blacker than the night sky now.

Daniel was exasperated, anguished by the question as he smiled and dipped his forehead onto yours. The answer was obviously “abso-fucking-lutely, get down on your knees and show me you love me” but he knew better. And so did you. Still, the warm puff of air from his laugh still sent surging chills down your arched spine, needy for his touch.

“I hate sayin’ no to you,” He rasped and closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, “Especially when I know how fucking good you feel but no. You can't.”

You dryly chuckled and brushed your hands over his puffed out chest, “Must be absolute torture, my boy. Thankfully I can hide how I’m feeling – you? Not so much.” You replied with gritted teeth and a shrug, smirk dancing on your lips.

“Yeah, you’re fuckin’ in for it later, mate.” He playfully retorted before pulling himself from your grasp and leaving you with what he thought was a threat, but what you took as a promise you hoped to God he would keep. You were soaked. to. the. core.

The expensive champagne continued to flow freely for hours and several glasses of wine later had you and Daniel fumbling around at your hotel room door, unsure whether you’d arrived at the right number and having absolutely no idea where the key card you barely remembered giving him had gone. It also didn’t help that Daniel’s lips hadn’t left the crook of your neck while you dug through your clutch, his fingers inching closer to danger with every passing second.

“Lemme see your pockets,” You huffed and shoved your hand into his jeans pocket, causing a loud shriek to slip from his lips.

“You’re just tryin’ to touch my dick!” He shouted, louder than he expected and definitely louder than you accepted as appropriate, even in your drunken stupor, "You can if ya want."

“Shuuuush!” You hissed, trying not to laugh as Daniel gazed up at the ceiling and reached into his back pocket, searching until his eyes lit up with excitement. “Ah-huh!”

“Thank god – now hurry up and fuck me please!” You whisper-yelled, praying for the sweet sound of a door unlocking.

“Alright, ya horn-bag. Give me a sec- ond… Shit!” Daniel paused and looked back at you with wide eyes, “Wrong room.”

You could faintly hear the sound of footsteps behind the large door in front your shocked face. Before you could even muster a response to his mortifying revelation, Daniel had you in his grasp, dragging you down the hallway, panting and hoping he had a plan. He always did.

“Room 1001 – not 1011,” He coughed through his laughter, hovering the keycard over the lock and finally revealing the room we’d left nearly 5 hours ago, “Home sweet home.”

“Shut up,” You mumbled, throwing your arms over his shoulders and jumping into his embrace. Daniel groaned at your sudden burst of energy and hoisted you up on his waist, mouths instantly attached and desperately trying to defy physics.

Your vision was blurry when you pulled away for air, lips still touching, noses knocking and your hands still roaming the expanse of Daniel’s broad shoulders. You could feel him moving you further into the room that was spinning, the ceiling fan still whirring above your head. That was the first thing you saw when you landed on the messy hotel bed and left for dead by Daniel who was chuckling at the foot, watching you lay back in defeat.

“I’m stupidly drunk.” You huffed.

Daniel nodded as you looked up at him through hooded eyes, “So, so drunk.”

“Not that drunk.”

Your pointed finger and wiggling eyebrows told him exactly what you were referring to, lip bite and dark eyes forever selling you out.

“Take off your pants.” You ordered.

Daniel’s grin dropped into a smirk as you propped yourself up on your elbows, encouraging your boyfriend to give you a little show. Tipsy or not, Daniel knew what you wanted and he’d move heaven and earth to give you whatever you asked for. A heat rushed across his chest as he gazed down at you, undressing for him. The silky satin dress slipped off a lot easier than it went on, a detail not going unnoticed by Daniel who was slowly unbuttoning his shirt, moaning at the sight of your white lacy thong that you knew he loved.

“Killing me.”

“You love it, baby.”

“I live for it.”

The banter was hot, if not hotter than the actual sex. Foreplay was your forte but you weren’t in a ‘building a narrative’ kind of mood. It was primitive now – the primal need for a release outweighing the desire to fuck around with each other. That was the kind of fun best saved for the morning. You were already looking forward to that.

“Look how wet I am for you, Danny.”

Daniel growled as he kicked his jeans off, boxer briefs attached as they flung across the room, discarded with his wrinkled linen shirt. He stood for a moment – naked, painfully hard and begging to be touched before crawling up onto the California king. You could feel him throbbing as he brushed up on your inner thigh, legs open and wrapped around his waist in a matter of seconds. Lips attached again, frenziedly needing for more.

“Give it to me.” You pathetically pled.

“I wanna taste first.”

You resented his love for you in that moment. Resented that he wanted to indulge in what you had to offer, when all you wanted was the main course. The sharp huff that slipped from your lips made Daniel chuckle into your inner thigh, sloppy kisses followed by tiny nibbles, undeniably revving you up but also making the pout on your face that much more noticeable.

“You’re sexy even when you’re mad,” He almost slurred, closing the gap between you and his indescribably proficient tongue. Hot breath fanning over what you could only imagine was your glistening pussy. Ready for him to enjoy. Fuck.

“You are a fucking drug. A sweet, delicious drug that'll be the death of me.”

Daniel hummed before flattening his tongue against you, loving eyes locked on yours before your head tilted back, throat barely squeaking out a moan. He lapped and lapped and lapped away at you, paying close attention to the way you curled up when the tip of his nose slipped over your clit, your moan changing in pitch. He was always in heaven devouring you like this, until he was somewhat satisfied. He wasn’t selfish and he knew what you wanted, even if he could’ve stayed like that until the sun came up. Feasting.

“Daniel, please.”

“Full naming me when I just wanna make you feel good is mean, baby.”

Daniel was playing. And you were teasing. He loved hearing you moan his whole name – his mind reeling back to the time you screamed out his full name as you came, subsequently rushing him to his own finish line. Exploding.

“I wanna cum around your cock. That’s all I want,” You sighed and finally opened your eyes, clutching and admiring at the sprinkling of chest hair. Daniel was drunk, but not drunk enough to not realise how lucky he was to have you spread out beneath him, pleading for him to fuck you into another dimension.

“Your wish is my… demand? Command? Your wish is my something,” Daniel couldn’t quite find the saying in the midst of his excitement, and you couldn't hold back the fit of laughter as you threw your head into the pillows.

“Smooth, Ricciardo,” You giggled as you felt his slick tip teasing your hole, fists clenched beside your head and a smirk the size of the equator on his face.

“Well how does it go then, smarty pants?” Daniel nodded his head and gently sank into you, revelling in the feeling of you engulfing every inch he had to give while he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head, waiting for your answer.

“I –” You stammered, adjusting and sucking in a sharp breath, “I have no… No idea, and I don’t… fucking care.”

Daniel chuckled as his wispy curls fell into his eyes, watching you lick your lips and gather yourself. You were blurry in his vision, the alcohol now really pumping through his veins as he gripped your hips in his large hands, palms perspiring and brows following suit. Your fingertips trailed from his chest down to his pelvis, skin hot to the touch and tattoos glistening from sheen of sweat covering his perfect body.

“Fuck me just like that… Oh my god.” You snapped open your lust filled eyes – blazing flames erupting in Daniel’s as they caught yours.

“Feels fuckin’ good, ey.”

It was a rhetorical question but you nodded anyway.

Daniel was huffing and puffing as your lips tried to find his, hands cradling his slacked jaw. Drunken sloppy sex was one of your favourite genres and it’d been a hot minute since you’d found yourselves with the taste of red wine still lingering on your tongues, fucking like animals. He was thrusting hard until he noticed your hand crawl down to where your bodies met, the delicate touch slowing his movements and capturing his undivided attention.

“Oi,” Daniel breathed and sat back on his knees, still warming in your tight pussy. Your eyebrows quirked with intrigue and a small smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as he grabbed your hand and guided it up to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. Fanning the flames deep inside.

His tongue swiped across your soft fingertips, making sure each one was dripping wet with spit before sliding them back down between your trembling thighs, “Bet that feels better, huh?”

“Mm-hmm. Much better,” You managed to moan out as he wrapped his arm around your lower back and angled your hips up to his cock, watching himself slowly slide in and out while you circled your clit, edging yourself closer with every touch.

Daniel picking up the pace meant he wasn’t far from his high, the tell tale signs were consistent and always a dead giveaway. The flush of red creeping up his neck and veins bulging under his taut skin was the first sign. Filthy words whispered into your ear was the second and grunts vibrating in his chest as his focus was pulled to you and only you were one of the final ones before he couldn’t hold on any longer.

But he never left you high and dry. Not in a million fucking years.

"Right fucking there, Danny!" You shouted, oblivious to your screams almost certainly alerting the neighbouring room. Even if you were conscious of the volume of your voice, you couldn’t have cared less. Your man was putting on a show and you’d be damned if you didn’t make sure he knew how good he was giving it to you.

"I'm right there..."

"Cum all over my cock, beautiful."

You squealed into the pillow you’d been gripping, scrunching your nose at how fucking good he felt filling you to the brim. Daniel eased your thrashing body through the shockwaves, making sure you felt every last writhe of pleasure – every nerve set alight by the fire burning in your stomach as that perfectly tied knot quickly unravelled. He was holding on for dear life, cursing how tight you felt coming around his aching cock.

"I need to see your face, baby. Look at me." 

Daniel’s raspy voice snapped you back to reality as your hips rocked violently against his. That and your blown-out pupils boring into his was enough to send him tumbling over the edge, unloading everything he had and more.

Daniel clutched your shuddering thighs with his searing fingertips as he bucked one, two, three times and placed one of his shaky palms against the hotel wall, trying to catch his breath as he filled you up. Your eyes were lazily shut, slowly regaining some semblance of consciousness and clawing at the skin on Daniel’s abdomen – attempting to soothe him through his high. Selfishly, you were too caught up in your own that you’d forgotten he was even still there. You'd make up for that later.

For now, you were in bliss. Laboured breathing filled the comfortable silence as you searched for one another, floating back down to the real world.

"Come back to me," Daniel teased quietly as a sly grin swept across your face, eyes closed and skin still tingling from his hot touch. He fell beside you and rolled off the bed in search of something, anything to clean up the mess you’d made together.

"I think I've died and gone to heaven," You whispered back, earning a hoarse chuckle in return. Daniel looked like a mirage on a hot summers day when you opened your eyes and watched him exit the en suite, tissue box in hand.

"What a review."

Proudly boasting after sex was a regular occurrence with Daniel and you loved it; encouraged it even. He chucked the tissue away and practically tripped back into bed, still tipsy and feeling the full effects now that he wasn't under your intoxicating spell. At least for now, anyway.

He flicked off the lamp and sent the room into complete darkness before you felt his warm arm snaking around your naked waist, pulling you into his pounding chest. You were exhausted and almost numb from the long night but satisfied above all else. Thirst well and truly quenched.

You could always rely on Danny for that.

click for more of my writing if you're interested.

[candysweetposts]

Episode 8 review (long af)

I want to start this by saying that I will include some talk-points I saw in other posts and that I don't hate the people who made them just the opinions and that we shouldn't fight each other but try to reach the company for improvements. Let's go! This includes spoilers btw.

The episode itself was pretty bad just because the premise was... I guess childish. From the moment I finished Ep 7 and saw the preview for Ep 8 I thought about a moment from HSL, specifically Ep 12 where Candy (Lynn) spies on Lysander to see his back tattoo. When I played that episode I was a teen and I thought it was exciting. Our Candy was also a teen so we can say that what she did was more justifiable since teenagers do crazy stuff all the time. Plus, Lynn's intention was pretty innocent, she just was curious about this boy's tattoo that happened to be on his back. Here is completely different. I am not a teen anymore, and neither are Ysaline or her co-workers. They're probably in their late 20s (at least some). I find this scenario a bit too much for a bunch of adults. I don't care that they're friends, friends should respect each other's boundaries. A good friend wouldn't pull this kind of shit. They all acted as if they were going so see a magic trick or a concert or a famous person, not their friend naked. Why would you want to see that? Just because he "implied" that he's fine with it? What did they expect would happen? Did they though he would laugh out and be like "Haha, you got me" fully naked? This feels like what a bunch of bullies would plan to do with someone. The rest of the episode was ok-ish but having all around this weird stuff it makes me hard to like anything about it. I must admit that there were moments when we would talk about other stuff and it was truly ok and nice, but this is like finding the needle in the haystack.

This goes back to what BV originally planned for this season, to be set in high school. I bet this was a concept for an episode when that was still going. Would be more ok if these people were teens? Maybe... or maybe not. Do you know why? Because most of us are adults and that's why BV made a game with mostly adults having adult life with jobs and stuff and let's not forget... NSFW. And as an adult, I know better than spying on a naked man is creepy and illegal.

Now let's talk about the characters.

Let's start with Roy. He was very nice in the whole episode. He tried to play along but it really looked like he was uncomfortable at some point. And I bet if he could, he would tell others more firmly to stop but he's just such a sweet guy and probably endures for the sake of his friends. He's always sweet and even when he pulled the prank on everyone he even had the idea for all to play with water guns. He acted so nice. We love you, Roy! <3

Speaking of his BFF Devon who just disappointed me. I really thought he would be the first to speak up against this, not the one who started it. I get you're like bros and stuff but AGAIN, do you want to see your bro naked? And if yes, why? Do you have something to confess? What's so funny about embarrassing someone? I didn't get a good look at this route so I can't tell how he is with Candy, but this is not ok. Please, make this better BV.

Thomas. He was an absolute menace. Going from childish remarks to planning all of this to acting like he's in a spy movie (I didn't mind that part but CONTEXT). As I get to know him more and more I realize that he's more of a villain. Knows stuff about people and uses that against them. I get that he's like Mr Robot, but at least in his case, he did what he did because he thought he was doing something good. Thomas just likes to fuck with people. I get it, his moment was pretty cute and moments with him and Candy are cute generally, but let's not sweep this thing under the rug. He likes to lie, remember? I really hope this was a one-time thing. Pls BV. Like he has based moments and this runs it.

Amanda did really grow on me in this episode. Like if before I couldn't stand her now I'm on her side. Whatever you need girl, I'm here for you. She was the first one to step in and say no which was nice. She also said some other nice stuff to us proving she's a girl's girl. I hope this is not a one-time thing because if she goes back to her bad attitude the next episode I'll just hate her again. Sorry!

Jason was very himself this episode. Nothing to note. I liked his moment but I hate how Candy went overboard and basically imagined them making out. What? Is this how you develop feelings for a person? By fantasizing about kissing them? That came out of nowhere. I mean yeah, she could talk about how he makes her feel and stuff but straight up imagining a fanfic on the spot? And I hate the direction his route goes. Candy always being in distress and vulnerable, and this gentleman shows up to save her. Cool, but when do we have a mature moment... and not that kind of mature. I guess we have to wait and I hope it's worth it. I want to know about him more. What's with his dad and mom, his family in general, his past, you know. So let's stop doing weird shit and start exploring these characters BV.

Girl 1 and 2 were very not nice. They just went along with the plan, especially Elenda, who... let's just say I don't like how she's presented most of the time. I get she's s fun bubbly girl, but idk... it's just the situation that makes it worse not her as a person. Brune... You're asking what's wrong with Roy? What's wrong with you?

The illustrations were fire. I must admit, I love them. I see a lot of improvements. The lighting and colors blend very well. Props to the artist/(s?). My favorite is, you guessed, Thomas'. Yeah, he always has nice illustrations. Although, I don't get the whole going naked with him on the beach. Like, we barely know the guy. Same for the others, except Amanda, because she's a girl.

Now, let's talk about the community response. I feel like, at first, everyone was pretty upset, and rightfully and some were just "We're not that upset because it's just a game guys, shut up. You're just hating". Well, of course, some are going to exaggerate but most of us have valid reasons to be upset. Saying that this is just a game and we should leave if we don't like it it's just straight up BS arguments. I've seen this argument everywhere and I am sick and tired of that. I won't leave no matter what because not only do I love this game, but I also love the community and everything that makes it. It's not just a game, it's something I invested time and money and I won't let that go to waste. Also, I can use the same arguments against those people. Most of us here want to just enjoy this game and chat about it. Stuff like this will appear all the time. Let's just say what we have to see and hope the game gets better. And you're lucky I don't remember every single one of these people's arguments because I would said more. Also, WE KNOW that MCL is not representative of reality or that is has some sort of educational purpose. We're not asking for realism, we're asking for a decent plot. It's that so hard to do?

Lastly, BV made a pr response on the forum where they said that they saw the backlash and that they can't do anything about the episode or the other episodes but that will improve in the future. I.. I want to believe them. Truly. So, please, for the love of God, don't pull this sort of stuff again. Ok? Please.

That being said, Thank you for reading this. It was quite long, but I like writing long ass texts. Sorry!

[jo-harrington]

Promotion (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: You take a Tuesday night off to surprise Eddie at a Corroded Coffin show and you both get more than you bargained for.

Previous Part: Team Building

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. (Do I need to say this anymore?) Fluffy, a little angsty, culmination of a lot of big feelings on both Eddie and Readers parts.

Note: I have been working on this part. Since January 15th. This has always been (and if you've read Peak Sales Hours you know) the way they finally reveal their feelings for one another. DAMN TOOK THEM AND ME A REALLY LONG TIME. The idea has evolved a little, but I hope the wait has been worth it. (Really gonna suck when we go back to the 2 parts of the story where they...aren't together yet but I promise both of those parts will be worth it and it's gonna make a few things towards the end of this part make sense...) We're almost at the end.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other Eddie stories and writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

“Nice fake, kid,” the gruff bartender scoffed, taking a quick glance over your ID. “Illinois huh?”

“Yeah, Illinois,” you insisted. “And it’s not a fake.”

“Whatever,” he sighed. “Enough of you kids home from college, I can’t keep up. In for a penny, in for a pound. What can I getcha?”

You ordered then turned to survey the ambience of The Hideout.

Bars weren't typically your scene.

You really didn't have a scene, if you were honest. Work and school had been your life for the longest time. If you had a social life, it was garage beers with your friends back home, or going out with coworkers after a really difficult holiday season or something. Your old Store Manager had certainly forced you to join her at dive bars and parties now and again. And now, you guessed...outings with Eddie and his friends.

When he had first told you about Corroded Coffin and their gigs, he said that the Hideout wasn't typically busy.

"It's like...like Cheers, you know? A place where everyone knows your name," he explained that first night you two had hung out. "Off the highway, used to be the local watering hole for everyone at the plant to wet their whistle after quitting time, according to Wayne. Lately, not as much.

"But the owner lets us play every Tuesday and it's good if we want to make it big someday. Even though right now it's really just...you know, a few regulars who tolerate us and clap if they're sober enough."

This, though, was most certainly not a few regulars.

Just like the bartender had said, there were a lot of kids home from college for Thanksgiving week, looking to get away from their families for a night. They'd already been milling about StarCourt; you'd seen a lot of unfamiliar faces. You wondered if this was just a convenient place to get a drink with friends now that they were back; it wasn't like the bartender was really taking anyone's ID seriously, real or fake.

Everyone was here for a good time, regardless. An old house-turned-bar with a few tables, mostly occupied, and a pool table that a group of guys were crowded around. Only a few open spots at the bar, one of which you had claimed for yourself.

It wasn't a club, it wasn't really even a bar.

It was just...kind of a shithole.

But if you were to remove all the people who were here tonight who didn't seem to fit in anyway, you felt it was the perfect venue for Corroded Coffin.

The stage was small and makeshift and illuminated by the many neon signs on the adjacent walls touting Coors and Old Style and PBR, and even though you were a little ways back you could easily enjoy the show.

You were actually planning to hang back anyhow. You usually closed on Tuesdays so you wanted to surprise Eddie.

He had mentioned, way back during your first Sunday night hangout, that you should come and see the band if you were ever free. You had brought up your schedule to him then, and immediately felt bad when he looked a little disappointed. And even more so the dozen or more times you tried to bring up the topic again, especially as you spent more time with him and his friends. Music was something you two had quickly bonded over, so you were hoping you could come and support him. But he never took the cue and never extended the invitation again.

It took a lot of bribery to get Mindy to take the Tuesday shift, and thankfully with the impending holidays, she had some time-off needs of her own. So a little quid pro quo and you had your night off.

Not to mention a covert trip to Tape World to grab one of the flyers for the show, disguised as a run to the bathroom, when you had lunch together a few weeks ago. Eddie's manager Kyle always let him have his homemade flyers on the counter when he was Manager on Duty, but they always went home with Eddie after his shift was over.

"I just have this bad feeling," he admitted to you once. "That someone would come in just to fuck with them, you know. At least while I'm there, I can...I don't know. Protect them." You understood, having been witness to how shitty some of the people in Hawkins were to him. You had dealt with bullies before, and it had gotten better for Eddie in the past few months but...he was still cautious and you didn't blame him.

So now, sitting here in this crowded bar, sipping kind of bad beer, wearing one of your brother's band tees that must have gotten mixed up with your shit from your last visit home, and waiting for the boys to appear "on stage," you felt happy that you'd be able to show Eddie just how much you cared for him. How much you wanted to be there for him the way he'd been there for you the past 6 months.

How worth...all of it he was.

And the other boys. Of course.

Eddie was the only one you wanted to kiss though.

He was the only one you wanted to do any of those sweet, sickening...ahem...sexy...things with. You really had wanted it all since you met him, and you'd gotten your taste and that was enough to smolder and turn your craving into an actual thirst.

Unfortunately, what you'd hoped was mutual attraction...never went anywhere, so friendship it had stayed.

You could always indulge in your little crush-fueled fantasies after you hung out. As pathetic as that was. Especially when you realized he was a touchy kind of guy. Hugs at the ready whenever you wanted them and even sometimes when you didn't. Hands always grabbing your shoulders to shake you when he was trying to make a point. He'd popped the arm rest up when you went to the movies so you could put your head on his shoulder. And then he would cover your eyes with his hand whenever there was something especially gorey or steamy on the screen.

"Otherwise, I’ll have to wash your eyes out young lady," he mocked with a very stern voice to mock your overprotective father, who Eddie had met once.

And on one of the toughest days of your life when his attention had fully been on you so how he remembered your dad enough to get his voice down like that...

You shook your head to release you from your thoughts as you noticed Gareth and Jeff haul in Gareth's drum kit from some back hallway and onto the ramshackle stage.

It wouldn't do to get lost in your daydreams when they were about to perform. Because yeah, Eddie was always doing things like that-- remembering things you said off-handedly, surprising you with things he thought would make you laugh or smile--and you tried to do the same for him, but coming to see one of his performances was gonna be different.

It meant more than quoting his favorite movie or getting him that snack he liked at the gas station.

This was his dream.

And you wanted to be fully present for it.

A couple people clapped kindly as all four boys took the stage and Eddie said a quick, slightly shy "hey" into the microphone, clearly unused to the crowd. You let out a tenuous whoop, and Eddie squinted in your direction and waved, but with the haze of cigarette smoke lingering in the air and the bustle of bodies that swarmed the bar to refresh their drinks, you doubted he could see who it actually came from.

So maybe you would need to worm your way up eventually. Maybe.

Once they started playing, though, you knew you would have to.

They were...

Well...

Ok they were not the best, but they were certainly getting there. They could be something great if they took the time, and you knew that was a high priority for the boys.

You didn't know what you expected though.

Certainly not like something professionally recorded or the one or two concerts you'd been to with friends over the years. Surely something closer to the bands that played during street fairs or the local venues back home.

Corroded Coffin was something in-between. Eddie's proficiency at the guitar and his overly confident stage presence once he got going, paired with Jeff and Dave who matched his energy with their endless strumming and head banging and enthusiastic vocals. And of course Gareth on the drums, who kept them in line as though he was simply amplifying the beating of his heart.

They were...one-of-a-kind.

It was a sight to behold and had you enraptured by their entire performance.

And you were surely not alone, as there was a good bit of applause after every song--none louder than you, you hoped--that caused the boys to preen with the attention. Especially Eddie, who would showboat if more than 5 people clapped.

"And now," he rumbled into the microphone, voice a little croaky, as the others set up a thrum of drumbeats and repetitive notes on their respective instruments. "Lend me your ear as I weave a tale of adventure and destruction."

You shifted on your stool with a grin, excited to see this. He'd explained it to you, how he and Jeff had been working on these little attention grabbers...stage patter...in tandem with his campaigns for Hellfire Club.

"Being a frontman is more than just singing, it's about...captivating the audience."

He told you it would make more sense once they had some more original songs and not just covers. But they were still working on it.

Thus, Eddie began talking about Lord of the Rings, of all things. Of a great journey with perilous consequences if the Fellowship were to fail, of the jaunts through Rivendell and encounters in Khazad-dûm and finally the terrible task on Mount Doom.

"And none of it would be possible without..." he started plucking at his own guitar strings, running his fingers up and down the frets, creating a haunting sound in place of a harmonica. "The Wizard."

You jumped from the stool and let out a whoop, beer sloshing over the rim of your glass and onto your hand. But it didn't matter, because when Eddie's eyes zeroed in on you, he beamed brightly and it was magical.

The moment would be burned into your brain forever, the way his big, void-like eyes got all round and soft and those lips stretched over his teeth to grin, lines carving deeper into his face in a look of sheer joy. And then glanced back down at his Sweetheart as he began to play his best performance of the night.

Or so you thought, but you were a little biased.

You were torn away from the performance as someone took the glass out of your hand and pressed some napkins over your beer-soaked skin.

"Here, watch out, you spilled some on the floor too," a deep, teasing voice said. "Jules, can you grab some more napkins?"

"Yeah. For sure."

"You Corroded Coffin's number one fan or something?" the guy asked as you kept trying to look back at the stage. You looked at him and felt uneasy. He was tall but unremarkable and had a plaid shirt under a denim jacket, a few patches similar to ones you'd seen adorned on Eddie's battle vest. He seemed like someone who might enjoy the music but there was a glint in his eyes and a smirk on his mouth that seemed...off to you.

"First time hearing them," you tried to dismiss. "Thanks for the help."

His friend or...maybe date returned with a stack of napkins and she handed them to you with her own tight smile, latching herself to his side.

"I thought it was music time, not story time," she joked snidely as you dropped the napkins on the floor to clean up the spill. "Are we gonna get out of here soon Mick?"

"Yeah don't worry," he patted her shoulder and then looked back at you. "So, not number their one fan. You dating Munson or something then?"

Jules let out a laugh.

"None of your business, who are you again?" You put on the hard city exterior you grew up with--the one that often clashed with your tight-knit community and customer service exteriors, each an interchangeable mask—and turned away from him, glad to put some distance between you.

You asked the bartender for another beer but there was already a bitter taste in your mouth and you knew you wouldn't enjoy the drink.

Mick and Jules…

---

You were happy when everyone gave them an outstanding applause at the end of the set, but the boys were quick to dismantle the stage after a stern look from the bartender.

Eddie had tried his best to have an encore performance.

"Come on Phil." He batted his eyelashes enticingly. "You know you love us."

"This isn't Madison Square Garden," Phil ran a finger over his throat. "You'll run up my electric bill."

"Make sure you tip your bartender everyone," Eddie quickly announced with a mock salute, then pulled the plug on their equipment and dashed offstage.

Dave, Jeff, and Gareth made their way back in sometime after they broke down their equipment, as some the crowd started to dissipate, and were ecstatic to find you at the bar.

"It's seriously so busy in here," Gareth exclaimed after he chugged his Coke and belched obnoxiously. "I don't think we've played a crowd like this ever."

"I don't think we've seen this many people in the Hideout ever," Dave gave you a hopeful grin and pressed his hands together in prayer. "You sure you don't want to buy us a round of beers to celebrate?" You pushed his shoulder good-naturedly but got them a round of the cheap, watered down stuff nonetheless.

"Ok and listen, I was supposed to do the intro to The Wizard," Jeff started, hand on your shoulder as though he was telling you a secret. "But I chickened out. I don't think I would have been able to do it with all of these people here."

"You would have crushed it," you reassured him. "Next time."

"No, because Eddie destroyed it up there," Jeff hollered. "I almost forgot the chords, he was so good. You seriously need to come to Hellfire one time...or Eddie can have a special session over Christmas break. That was on par with a Munson Death Monologue, if I ever heard one. Right guys?"

"Where is he anyway?" you asked.

Instantly, all three boys got nervous and it had you on edge.

"The bathroom."

"Just having a smoke."

"Had to restring his guitar."

They fumbled over each other with their excuses.

"Don't make me pull the mom card," you crossed your arms over your chest and glared at them. "You know I hate that shit."

"Only the freshman call you mom," Dave attempted to deflect.

You rolled your eyes and simply turned on your heel and exited the bar. You heard the three of them bicker as you walked away.

"Nice cover shithead."

"Me? What about you? Restring his guitar?"

"Fuck off."

When you got out to the parking lot, you heard talking. Bickering, much like the boys had been inside.

"...I'm trying to give you a compliment."

"A backhanded compliment isn't a compliment."

Eddie's voice. And another one.

You didn't want to interfere, but you were from the midwest and as a result, you were nosy.

And Eddie was your friend, if he needed help, you'd be there for him.

You rounded the corner of the building and saw Eddie sitting in the open side door of the van, cigarette smoldering between his fingers as he gestured wildly while talking.

"I don't know why you think you can just show your face here," he told the other guy.

Mick...the guy who'd helped you out inside.

"Come on Ed," he scoffed. "This doesn't have to be painful for either of us. I moved on, so can you."

"That's right Mickey, you moved on," Eddie argued. He dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped on it aggressively. "You decided it wasn't worth it to be my friend anymore and you and Jack moved on."

Mickey and Jack. Eddie's old friends, the former members of Corroded Coffin.

He'd told you about them...in passing. You never really got the full story from him, you never wanted to pry. But seeing this guy...now...

"You decided not to be friends anymore, when we wouldn't throw our futures away for a stupid garage band! And look, two years later and you're still here? Heard my mom say you're still at Hawkins High too. Look at you, Ed. A waste of fucking space."

Well you didn't know whether to walk away or butt in and give the guy a piece of your mind.

It was a good thing that Eddie got to his feet and got right into Mickey's smug face.

"Go fuck yourself Mick." His hands planted on Mickey's shoulders and he shoved his old friend a few feet. Not to knock him down, enough to disrupt his balance though.

The aggression left Mickey then, and even from where you stood you could see his eyes go wide.

"Come on Eddie," he whined. "I didn't come out here for this. I've got friends in there and I told them I could get weed. Julie's in there."

"Julie fucking Williams," Eddie rolled his head back and let out a sardonic laugh.

You vaguely realized why Jules had sounded familiar. Jason Carver had mentioned her way back when, when he tried to play the macho protector act.

"He was sniffing around this girl Julie Williams a few years ago too..."

"She still got her claws in you?" Eddie continued. "You here to rub it in my face that you're still with her too? High School Sweethearts and all of that?"

"Stop being an asshole. I made them all come and sit through your stupid show, Eddie. You should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" he scoffed. "You...you're just rubbing salt in the wound now Mick. Throwing me a bone thinking I’m hard up for cash. Bringing people along cuz no one would come to our shows way back when, so now I gotta know that the only way they would, is if you bribed them with weed? And Julie? Julie only fooled around with me, dated me, so she could get closer to you and you fell for her like an idiot."

"I don't know why you care Eddie, I saw your girlfriend in there. Besides, you two were never dating. So if anyone is the idiot here, it's you."

"Fuck off, Michael," Eddie muttered, turning his back to his former friend. "If you want weed, go to Rick."

There was a beat and you watched Eddie's still back and Mickey shuffling on the gravel drive, looking simultaneously like he wanted to say something, and regretting that he even said anything in the first place.

Finally, he stalked off, hands shoved in his pockets.

You ducked against the side of the building to avoid being noticed as he passed and headed back into the Hideout.

You didn't know what to do. You didn't...yeah you were nosy, but you knew you should have probably walked away when Eddie told him to go fuck himself the first time.

Still...then no one would have been out here for Eddie now. Even after all these months of getting closer to him, months of friendship and learning more and more about him, all it took was an overheard conversation to make the pieces click. You needed to make sure he was alright because that...that hadn't been good.

He'd already been in some kind of state of constant self-deprecation when you first met him, you didn't want him to fall back into it because of some asshole. You understood now why Jeff had been so protective of him at the start. You were that way now. You wanted your friend to be happy.

To see how much he mattered. That's why you came tonight in the first place.

At the sound of something crashing in the back of the van, you shuffled back around the corner and got closer.

"Fuck," he muttered pathetically. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

There was the twang of a string on one of the guitars snapping, and then Eddie's heaving breath.

"FUCK!" He turned around and kicked at the gravel, and it sprayed across the lot before landing at your feet. He ran his hands through his hair and stopped at the sight of you.

You froze too, unable to stomach the sight of his red, tear-filled eyes and the wetness of his cheeks illuminated by the streetlamp overhead.

"So uh," he sniffed and quickly ran the cuff of his sleeve across his nose. “Dunno if you heard but that was my old friend. Who's dating...well I guess she wasn’t my girlfriend. So she’s not an ex either.”

He rolled his eyes and hung his head pathetically.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered and took a few steps closer. “I’m sorry that they did that to you. Both of them. All of them. You deserve so much more than that.”

“Do I?” He scoffed. “I’m a freak, a loser. Too stupid to finish high school or get out of this town.”

“Stop it!”

"No, Mickey's right. My stupid band, my stupid friends."

"I'm your friend, am I stupid?" you asked. You knew it was a little shifty, trying to turn this onto you, but you needed him to see that he was being...well...

Stupid.

"Maybe," he shrugged.

"And Jeff? And Dave? And Gareth?"

"Maybe."

"Fine," you pointed back at the Hideout. "But those people in there...they couldn't have all been Mickey's friends. They clapped for your stupid band. Are they all idiots too? Freaks. Losers."

"Maybe."

"That was a really good crowd, you were great up there. I was so surprised. So impressed."

"Well you shouldn't be."

"Eddie," you said in a chastising tone.

He mimicked you in a childlike fashion, said your name in the same tone, and then ran his hands over his face and groaned.

"I don't want to let him get to me like that," he shouted into the sky. "I don't...want my stupid, dumb, shithead old best friend to get to me like that. To act like it's some favor he's doing me by rolling back into town and bringing some people to my show. When it still should have been our show. Together.

"I had to very nearly give up on all of my fucking dreams because our friendship wasn't worth it to him. Because he pretended to grow up. He...he barely got accepted into a college. He was going to take classes at Tri County and keep working at Bradley's forever and we were gonna have this band and make it big one day and now..."

He trailed off and heaved.

"And now?" You pressed after a few minutes of silence.

"And now..." He waved his hand dismissively. "I don't know...nothing I guess."

You put your hands on your hips and scowled at him.

"And now you have friends in there that actually support your dream, who actually believe you've got a chance as a band. Jeff's a better best friend than Mickey. And you've got a job at TapeWorld and have Kyle and the guys there. They all believe in you. What did you tell me a couple weeks ago? Kyle wants to see if he can make you an ASM after you graduate?"

"Yeah."

"You've got...a future...and new dreams...just like Mickey does," you tried again. "Losing old friends is hard. It's a hole in your heart that doesn't ever go away.

"My high school best friend moved away and I don't talk to her anymore. We had...maybe one phone call after she went off to some out-of-state school. It hurt when I tried to call her and she never made time for me. But...then I made other friends. It's not the same as her, but sometimes it's better. Because I have Jen, and the girls at the old store and now this store and now I have...now I have you too.

"You're better than my high school best friend ever was. Tell me I'm not a better friend than Mickey...whatever his last name is."

Eddie's face went gaunt then, his eyes evaded yours and immediately went down to his feet, hands wrapped around his stomach defensively, like you wounded him.

You breathed heavily for a few moments and then softened.

Maybe you went a little too hard.

"Eddie, I'm sorry, I..." You backtracked a little. "I know I don't know the whole story. I just...I want you to know how much I value you as my friend."

"Stop saying that!" He shut his eyes and scrunched his face.

"What? You need to hear it! I know it's hard to hear how good you are--"

"No," he opened his eyes and took a step back, holding his hands out beside him, as though he was offering himself up for the slaughter. "Stop saying that you're my friend."

"But I am your friend!"

"But I don't...I don't want you to be."

Your eyes went wide this time and your mind raced.

At first you just...you thought this was him saying he didn't want to be friends anymore. Maybe you'd overstepped boundaries and had gone too far. The little insidious self-conscious voice inside of your head told you that you were dumb and too stupid to realize all the signs of him pushing you away. Overanalyzing every interaction for some indication that he didn't want you there.

But then he kept talking and you realized you were dumb just not dumb in that way.

"I...I have...kind of always thought you were pretty," he let out a dry laugh. "Well...actually I thought you were awful...way, way back...at the beginning before I even knew your name. I thought...wow it's another mean popular pretty girl coming to tease me and make my life hell. Only...you didn’t. You’re not mean and you're not a popular girl."

"And I'm not pretty," you joked.

"But you are," he disagreed. "And you didn’t make my life hell. You're everything I...well...I know this is gonna ruin everything. So fuck it. But I have the biggest, stupidest crush on you and everyone fucking knows about it and won't stop teasing me about it and I thought...after that night at the trailer that maybe...you know, you felt the same way. That we were just two dummies. I got my hopes up. I was coming to ask you out that Friday. I even skipped school."

Your heart skipped a beat, thinking about that night.

About that kiss and about...

"And then your grandpa..." he trailed off. "And how could I bring anything up after that? I just needed to be a good friend. Be there for you, like you're always there for me. Just like you're here for me tonight.

"Sweetheart, do you know how fucking happy I was to see you back there?" he asked, eyes big and round and wet with tears. "Shit you took a Tuesday night off?"

"Of course I did," you laughed. "I told you way back at the beginning I could move things around."

"Yeah but..."

"I get it," you nodded and then felt your heart ache with longing. "Eddie..."

"So no," he continued sadly. "I don't want to be your friend anymore because I just...want you."

He backed away a little, on weak legs as though he had been wounded. Especially when you took too long to process all of your thoughts and he probably took it as rejection. He turned back to the van to try and finish packing everything up.

And your mind finally caught up to your body.

Eddie liked you and he wanted to...not be your friend anymore because he wanted more than friendship.

Right? Was that it?

Fuck, why had you been so...

You walked right up to him and grabbed him by the sleeve and turned him around.

"If you're an idiot," you told him, vulnerably. "Then so am I."

You surged forward and captured his lips with yours.

It was...admittedly not like a John Hughes movie. It was sweet for a second and your heart was soaring and then his nose bonked into yours and you both broke into a little bit of laughter.

"You're not that good at kissing," Eddie teased.

"Me?" you guffawed. "It was your nose."

"Maybe we're just both out of practice," he suggested.

"Yeah." You reached out and shook him by his vest. "One uh...maybe extra high kiss on your couch two months ago is not the warmup we needed."

He smiled at you.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Are we both just...stupid?"

"Yeah I think so."

"How long has Mindy been mocking you?" he asked.

"Pretty much since Day 1. Kyle?"

"Before Day 1," he ran a hand through his hair and blew a frustrated breath through pursed lips. "He was the one who told me I should go up and ask you out."

"No he didn't!" You slapped a hand against his chest and stared at him incredulously.

"Scouts honor." He crossed over his heart. "So uh...you wanna try again?"

Eddie waited for your little nod before he pressed a kiss to your lips. His hands sought your waist and pulled you closer to him, body flush with his as your hands became trapped on his chest. You grabbed him by the vest and held him to you.

It was sweet exploration at first, lips tentative and pliant. Then tongues got involved, painting your tastes sweetly to the seams of each other's mouth, taking turns until they gained the courage to dance together.

Before long though...you both got a little impatient and you were pressed up against the side of his van, one hand in his hair as he kissed down the side of your throat, fingers plucking at the neckline of your t-shirt to gain more access to skin.

"Didn't know you liked Pantera," he muttered and licked back up the length of your throat then lightly bit the softness of your jaw. "S'this Jimmy's shirt?"

"Please don't say my brother's name right now."

You gently pulled him by the hair and led him right back to your lips to shut him up.

Sweetness turned into impatience, where 6 months of friendship and unrequited feelings were released--for real this time. Eddie's body slotted between your legs, hands roamed, giggles turned into moans, and just as he was about to scoot you into the van for some private time away from the elements of the Hideout Parking lot--

"Whooo..."

"Mom and Dad, sitting in a tree..."

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

--the guys exited the bar and found you in your...compromising position.

Eddie, ever the gentleman, made sure your shirt was on the right way and your hair not...too disheveled before turning to shoot his friends with the most scathing glare.

"Alright you fucking pervs," he shouted. "Nothing to see here."

"Are you kidding?" Dave exclaimed. "This is like...Christmas."

"Yeah, about time Eddie," Jeff clapped a hand on Gareth and Dave's shoulders. "We were about to start a bet to see if it was even gonna happen."

"It was Wheeler's idea," Gareth confessed.

"Of course it was," Eddie rolled his eyes. "Little rat."

"Mike's nice," you poked Eddie in the side and he jumped. "Stop picking on him so much."

The guys all started their whooping and hollering again until you sent your own dead stare their way to shut them up.

Eddie shouted for them all to pile into the van, and once they were all inside he turned to you and awkwardly stuck his hands in his pockets.

"So," he ran his tongue over his lips nervously. "Uh...I mean...that was nice."

"It was," you beamed. "Changed your mind about if I'm a bad kisser?"

"Yeah, oh," he nodded vigorously. "I...yes...I mean, no. You're a really...good kisser."

"Not so bad yourself Casanova."

"So we gonna...do that more often?"

You both burst out laughing and then jumped as someone inside the van honked the horn.

"You wanna come to Benny's with us?" Eddie thumbed over his shoulder. "Post-show patty melts? Kind of a tradition."

"Yeah. I'd love to."

"Kay, we'll see you there then."

"Sure."

He was about to back away and head towards the driver side of the van, and you back to the front lot to get into your car, when he swept in and cupped your face with his hands. Thumbs running gently over cheekbones, lips gently ghosting over yours.

And you couldn't help but think as you covered his hands with yours, this was definitely a perk you were going to take advantage of in this...

Relationship?

...promotion from friend to something more.

---

Next Part: Peak Sales Hours