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lokidjarin-7567 · 1 day ago

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The Alchemy

Hwang In-ho (professor AU) x Reader

Your chemistry professor caught your eye the moment you walked into class, and as time went on, you couldn’t deny your feelings anymore. Did he feel it too, or were you doomed to heartbreak?

fem!reader x Professor Hwang In-ho, smut, fluff, a little angst and everything in between, badly edited, multiple POV

8.5k words (sorry not sorry)

And here it is!! I’ve been obsessed with him for a while now, so very glad Squid Game is giving him the recognition he deserves from a Western audience. Decided to da a Professor AU because yum, so hope you enjoy x

Taglist: @nicki-lovesolderfictionalmen @jamiewritesfanfiction-blog @nunita23

TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3

You knew it was wrong. Your obsession with him. Everything about him was thoroughly captivating to you: the way he spoke, the way he dressed, the way he walled around the lecture hall with such confidence. You were enthralled every single lesson, so attentive and studious, hanging on his every last word like it was some kind of spell for everlasting life. Really, if you thought about it, it was actuallly a good thing. Your grades were better, you hadn’t missed a single lecture since the term began, and you were putting more effort into your studies in a desperate effort to impress him. And the cherry on top of the cake was that he had noticed. He knew you by name, he always picked you first if you had your hand up, and he even added complimentary comments to your papers. Even if he was old enough to be your dad, even if there was a power imbalance, even if nothing could ever happen between you, your crush only continued to grow stronger.

“I know, I know, class is nearly over, but we’ve got a few more things to cover, so let’s wake you all up with a little organic pop-quiz.” A few groans echoed around the room, but you smiled. Organic chemistry was your favourite, especially when he taught it, so you watched as he drew a few molecules on the whiteboard. A formula, and a damn easy one.

“Can anyone tell me the primary product here?” Your hand was up before the question was finished, but you tried to limit your keen nature - only half-raising your hand lazily as you doodled the finished equation on your notepad. You liked to think you were quite good at hiding your adoration for him. Yes, you could listen to him talk for hours, but you knew when to watch him and when to take notes. You knew when to speak up and when to stay quiet. You could control your face, aside from the occasional blush, never sitting there with puppy-dog eyes or biting your pen like they do in the movies. You were subtle - small smiles after a compliment, gazing with admiration when he wasn’t looking, answering any questions quickly but with professionalism and confidence. The perfect student. But you never, ever flirted. You knew that was academic suicide, especially with a Professor as influential as him. You were content with detached obsession. For now, at least.

Your heart did flutter, though, at the smile and small chuckle he gave when he saw your hand.

“Of course, the only student I have that actually enjoys organic…” You heard a few hums of agreement from the students behind you, saw the nods from the ones in front. You smiled at your reputation.

“What can I say, at least you always have someone to answer your questions…” Another laugh, music to your ears.

“That is true. Go ahead.”

“Well, that’s ethanol and that’s ethanoic acid so you would produce ethyl ethanoate.”

“Ah, I made it too easy for you! Should have mixed up the length of the polymers so you would have to think about which prefix came first.” Another flash of a smile.

“Rookie error.” You joked, and it was the closest you’d ever been to flirting. The back and forth was making you blush, the way his eyes were fixed to you from the front of the classroom. You were in your usual spot in the third row - the perfect distance to see him clearly, but not too close to look keen. Although, that point was kind of defeated by the amount of times your hand was first up, no matter how nonchalantly you tried to do it. His eyes were glittering with a slight playfulness now, head slightly cocked and you were bewitched as a few locks of his neat hair fell across his forehead.

“In that case, come and draw it for me please.” Fuck. He looked pleased with himself, hand brushing the fallen strands back, small smirk playing across his features. You sighed, heading to the front of the room in defeat. He handed you the whiteboard pen, fingers brushing yours just slightly. They were soft, delicate and warm, and his eyes were firmly fixed on you as you muttered a quiet thank you. You didn’t get to see him this close often, but you didn’t have time to take him in beyond the deep brown of his eyes, his height compared to yours, and the light scent of sandalwood that seemed to cling to the air around him even after he had walked past you back to the front of the room.

“While she’s doing that, can someone else tell me the uses of this ester please?” You were grateful your back was to the rest of the class, a furious blush spreading across your cheeks at the proximity. He glanced back at your shorthand sketch, giving you a small nod of encouragement.

“Good, and in full please.” You obeyed wordlessly, just finishing the second bond on the oxygen when the bell rang.

“That’s it for today then, everybody. Check the online portal for the homework.” He called out above the sound of bags being packed. “Oh, and there are more practical classes this term, so your timetables are also on the portal for those. I know they’re boring, and I know you’ve done them all a million times, but you have to do them again to pass!” He sighed, half the class already gone by the time he finished his sentence. He turned back to you, holding his hand out with a smile and you passed the marker back to him, careful not to brush his hand this time. As much as you wanted to feel his skin against yours again, you would blush too obviously to get away with it. “Thank you,” he said to you quietly, “I know at least one student will show for the practicals.”

“No worries.” You didn’t want to leave yet, allowing yourself to enjoy the being around him a little now the rest of the class was clearing out. He was wearing your favourite suit today - charcoal grey wool - with a soft, baby blue shirt and a navy tie. He was meticulous as ever: understated silver tie pin perfectly level, tie itself knotted immaculately, hair brushed back neatly. Even his shoes were perfect, not a single scuff on the leather. Being around him like this was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but talk to him just a little more as the last student filed out of the room. “What will the first practical be, out of interest?” You asked, forcing yourself to move back to your desk and slowly pack up your things.

“Just a distillation, I think...” He replied, trailing off and absentmindedly flicking through a few papers on his desk. You nodded, sensing his loss of interest, slinging your bag over your shoulder with just a hint of disappointment.

“Ok, sounds good. Thank you Professor…” You turned towards the door, but froze when you heard him call your name. You turned back around to see him looking at you slightly expectantly, a nervous energy buzzing from him that you’d never seen before.

“Before you go, I was just wondering if you’d picked an advisor yet? I know the decision is coming up in a few weeks.”

“No, I haven’t actually…” In all honestly, you had two options. And he was one of them. Of course he was. He was the best in the university, not to mention one of the best in his field. You learnt the most from him, you had the best relationship with him compared to the rest of your Professors. There were only two reasons why he wouldn’t be a perfect choice. Firstly, he was very picky with who he takes on, but if this conversation was going the way you thought it was, problem solved. The second, and much bigger, issue was your little obsession. If he was your advisor, you would see him one-on-one every two weeks at least, on top of class time, practicals time and in between all of that if you had questions. And for most people that had a crippling crush like you did, they would be jumping for joy at the opportunity to spend more quality time with them. But you didn’t want that. You didn’t want to make a move on him, or make your feelings for him obvious because it could destroy everything you had worked so hard towards. But equally, having him on your side was a great accolade, and it would do you wonders in your academic career.

You were a big girl. You could handle a little crush.

“Well…” He continued, hand running through his hair again before starting to pack up his own things. “I would very much like to fill that role unless you had anyone else in mind. You’re incredibly talented, and passionate about the subject in a way I don’t see often. You don’t have to decide right now, of course…”

“I would love that.” Your mouth had answered before your brain caught up, but his wide smile solidified your resolve.

“Excellent. Well, how does Friday sound for our first meeting? I think that’s when you’re scheduled for the practical, so that makes it easy…”

“That sounds perfect. Thank you, again, Professor Hwang, I appreciate the opportunity…”

“Not at all. The pleasure is all mine.” His wide smile warmed your heart thoroughly, and you left before you could melt into a puddle on the floor at the nature of his words.

It had been a couple of months now, and dear God, it was driving you insane. You’d made a huge mistake, and unfortunately for you, it was an unfixable one. He was the perfect advisor in every way - attentive, intelligent, willing, passionate, everything you could ever want. But being so close to him was driving you crazy. Once a fortnight, it was just you and him in his office, talking for an hour, joking, laughing, fighting every urge in your body to climb across the desk and give in to your desires. You had even started to dress up for him - purposely putting in extra effort the days you knew you had a meeting. The crush was getting much worse too, obsession starting to take over. For days after your meeting, all you could do was analyse every tiny interaction you had, every time he looked at you or spoke to you or even breathed differently. And fucking hell it was driving you insane.

You were sure it was getting harder to hide too. Before, it was less of a crush, more an admiration. Yes, you were aware he was attractive, but more than anything, you were capitavated by his teaching and passion. Now, all of that was still true, but all you could think about was how much you wanted to fuck him. Twice just that week you had missed half the class caught up in a daydream, not even being able to answer him when he called on you, too busy thinking about him bending you over his desk and having his way with you. Your last paper got a B because every time you tried to write, all you could think about was him reading it. What he would be wearing when he graded it at home. Comfortable clothes, surely, hair messy and uncouth. What he would think of it, whether he would smile at your words and add little notes when he agreed with what you were saying. Whether he truly thought as much about you while reading it as you thought of him while writing it.

You’d fucked up. You’d gotten too close, irreversibly so, and now, you had to see him today. You knew he would have something to say about your grades dropping. It was getting too obvious. You just hoped he would accept whatever bullshit you managed to invent on the spot. Your knuckles rapped against his office door, heart stuck in your throat.

She had caught his eye the minute she stepped into his lecture hall that first day of term. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly about her, whether it was her eyes, or hair, or lips. Or maybe it was just her. The confidence she seemed to exude, her sense of style, the studious and determined look she always seemed to have on her face. She was the most active participant in his classes, and every time he called on her, she would answer with such enthusiasm and excitement. He could tell how much she genuinely enjoyed the subject from the very first lesson, and even as the term continued, her passion didn't waver like some students’ did. She hadn’t missed a single lecture - always there in the same spot on the third row, and he was grateful for her choice of seat. It was close enough to see her, not too close to make it obvious that he was staring, and it was also far enough into the classroom that he had time to admire her while she made her way to her seat. To watch her while she was focussed elsewhere - namely, walking down the stairs without falling over. He enjoyed the time it gave him to work out how she was feeling on a day, whether she seemed dejected or excited, shy or outgoing. He liked how easy it was for him to read her.

And, if he was honest with himself, he liked the attention too. The first time he saw her, he knew he would be head over heels for a little while, and he accepted that. She was his student, and nothing could happen, so he buried it and got on with his lectures as usual, with only a few extra glances thrown her way when he knew she wouldn't be looking. But then he noticed it. The coy smiles, the extended glances, the occasional time he caught her biting her lip or pen. The way she blushed furiously if he ever caught her in the act. The first few times, he wrote it off as coincidence and wishful thinking, but eventually, it clicked that there was something there. Something charged. And he thrived off that energy.

That was why he had put forward the idea of being her advisor. If he was honest, he knew it was a terrible idea. That it could get messy, that he could get too close, that he would hurt his own feelings. But ultimately, he wanted to be near her as much as possible, and at the end of the day, in every scenario of shit hitting the fan, he was always the one that got fucked over. His feelings were clearly stronger than hers - something he had noticed recently swelling in his heart unreciprocated - and he was the one with his job on the line. He was the only one at risk, and he was willing to take that risk to be closer to her.

Recently, though, she’d seemed different. Distracted. Stressed. Avoidant. Her grades were dropping, she was barely talking in class and when he spoke to her one-on-one, he would catch her shrinking back into herself if she laughed too much, as though she was second guessing everything she did. He’d done everything to hide his feelings, and honestly, he thought he was doing a good job, but maybe she felt uncomfortable around him. Maybe he was being obvious and he’d misread her feelings. Or maybe she was just going through a rough patch in her personal life.

He had a meeting with her today, and he couldn’t think of anything but seeing her for the whole day. What she would be wearing, how or if he would broach the topic, what he should even say to her… He was struggling to concentrate on his lectures, mind wandering to her.

The relief washed through his body when he heard her knuckles softly knock against the door. He was worried she wouldn’t even come.

“Come in.” She opened the door cautiously, small smile on her lips. She looked more beautiful than she ever had somehow. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, just some natural blush and mascara, and her hair was down and framing her face perfectly. Her outfit was simple but classy; all black, simple satin skirt and skintight tee, chunky knit cardigan over the top.

“Hi Professor.” She replied cheerily, but there was a hint of something unreadable in her voice. Weariness, maybe? Stress? “How has your day been?” He smiled as they fell into their usual chatty routine, mind slightly at ease.

“Not too bad, thank you, although a few too many lectures for my liking. How was yours?” She laughed lightly, the sound warming his heart.

“Same problem for me too. A lot of lectures, none of them particularly interesting…” it seemed as though she wanted to say something else but bit her tongue, and he couldn’t help but feel himself deflate. He wanted her to be able to feel more comfortable around him, but she was holding herself back.

“That’s because I wasn’t teaching them…” The words fell from his lips before he could stop them, but to his relief, she smiled, a small chuckle escaping from her.

“Something like that.” She paused for a beat, seeming awkward and unsure. “Look, Professor, before we get into the stuff about my dissertation, I just wanted to talk to you about something…” The serious nature of her tone made his heart lurch, and he wanted to reach out and hold her hands, to drain away her evident nerves. She wasn’t even meeting his eyes, just wringing her hands in her lap as she tried to say what she needed to.

“Of course, my office is always an open space to talk about whatever you need to.” He hoped his words were comforting, and by her small smile, they had at least offered some small reassurance.

“I just wanted to apologise. I know my grades have been slipping a little the past few weeks, and I just wanted to make sure you knew that I’m on it and I’m doing everything to get them back up. I think I’ve just been a little distracted, and I don’t know really…” She was rambling, and his heart hurt for her. Yes, he had noticed her grades slipping a little, but it was from an A to a B for maybe two papers and a quiz. It wouldn’t affect her overall grade, and it certainly wouldn’t affect his opinion of her. He couldn’t help but wonder why she felt the need to apologise or explain herself.

“You have no reason to apologise. Everyone has better weeks than others, and it’s not going to affect your performance in my class or anything like that…”

“But…” she looked confused, as though she was genuinely trying to figure out why he wasn’t annoyed with her. “You’re Professor Hwang. I mean, you’re the best in your department, maybe even in the whole university. You pick your students that you want to advise because they’re the best, and I’ve not been…”

“First of all, I definitely am the best Professor in the *whole university*, thank you, but more importantly, that’s not why I pick people to mentor. I pick people based on their passion, talent, and work ethic. Not because they’re a machine who churns out A* papers every single week and has nothing else going on in their life that might affect that.” Once he’d finished talking, he looked up at her to see her close to tears, still staring at her hands in her lap.

“I, um…” she cleared her throat, finally meeting his eyes with a gratefulness he hadn’t seen in her before. A vulnerability he didn’t recognise, but wanted to see more of nonetheless. “Thank you for saying that. Really. None of my other Professors seem to think in that way.” Then under her breath, barely audible, she added something extra. “Neither do my family for that matter.”

“Well, as I said, my office is always open. If you ever have something you need to talk about, I’m here.”

“Thank you, truly.” She replied earnestly, and found himself struggling to reply as his heart swelled. He hadn’t realised how protective he felt over her until he saw her upset, but now, hand clenched by his side at the thought of someone making her feel unworthy over a few grades, he realised that maybe his feelings had blossomed a little more than he wanted them to.

The day after was another practical class. Just a titration, a check box more than anything with the calibre of his students. They knew what they were doing. Especially her. It would hopefully be an easy half hour; just let them do their thing, tick it off in the system, and be finished with it.

What he hadn't banked on, however, was the student that seemed to spend his whole time flirting with her.

She had been the first in the classroom that afternoon. She seemed tired, the last lesson after a likely busy day, but even more so than usual, her normally flawless makeup doing little to hide the puffy bags under her eyes. Her outfit was clean and put together, but a lot more basic than what she usually wore, just jeans and a baby tee, with none of her usual quirky flourishes. He was about to ask if she was ok, to talk to her more than the perfunctory hello she had thrown his way at the door when another student entered the classroom close behind her. The whole space was empty, but he decided to sit directly beside her. She seemed annoyed, making polite small talk but not much else and he just didn't seem to be taking the hint. He was leaning too close, laughing too loud, looking at her for too long…

His own jealousy surprised him. It was rage, pure and simple, white hot and blinding. He felt inordinately possessive, wanting nothing more than to shove him across the classroom and teach him a lesson about personal space, but as more students piled in to the space, all he could do was glare and hope he got the hint. Eventually though, she solved the problem herself. He had been so close to interfering, so blinded by anger he had started to move towards her bench, but she just stood up, and walked away from him mid sentence, ignoring him completely. The look of shock on his face was priceless, but the joy it brought him was quickly replaced with anger once again as the kid shifted in his seat, blushing red and muttering ‘bitch’ under his breath. If In-ho had a knife, he genuinely could have killed him in that moment. Because how fucking dare he.

But instead, he breathed in deeply before moving over to him calmly and giving him a menacing, tight-lipped smile. The student met his eyes with a perplexed look, but he just spoke over him before he had a chance to say anything else.

“If you ever talk about one of my students, let alone a woman, like that again, you will be barred from my class and the entirety of the chemistry department for the rest of your academic career, both at this school and wherever else you may choose to study. Is that crystal clear?” He said it so calmly, so coldly, that the kid just sat there in stunned silence for a moment, and he had to raise his eyebrow to prompt him to answer.

“Um… yes… yes Professor.” He stammered, and he smiled again without any warmth.

“Good, now find a new desk and complete your practical, or else you’ll have to retake my class, and you really don't want that, do you?” He shook his head frantically, scrambling away with his things and finding a space near the back of the room.

She looked confused for a moment when she got back to the now empty bench, but on glancing around the room and meeting his eyes, she smiled warmly at him in gratitude, blush spreading across her cheeks. He would do anything if it meant she smiled at him like that.

It had been an hour, and apart from one broken conical flask, there had been no major mishaps, and almost all of his students had finished their titrations. Except for her. She was on her fourth attempt now, the last student apart from her silently filing out of the classroom, and she was getting increasingly frustrated each time. He was trying to be subtle, to not make her feel pressured at all, but he couldn't help but watch as she turned the stopcock so slightly, letting a single drop fall into the flask, and he watched it turn colour perfectly… until the stopcock wasn't closed properly, another few drops sneaking through and pushing it past the end point colour.

“Fuck!” Every other attempt, it had been a quiet frustration, hidden under her breath, but this time she couldn't help it, cursing loudly and slamming her hand on the table. He could hear her heavy breaths even from across the room, her hand dragging through her hair in annoyance. She almost looked close to tears, just staring at the failed experiment. He muttered her name in concern, standing up ready to help her, but she just shook her head, grabbing the flask and heading to empty it.

“I’m so sorry for my outburst, Professor, my language was completely inappropriate…”

“No that’s not it at all, curse all you want…” He moved over to her desk as he spoke, but she was busying herself setting up again, not meeting his eyes. So he said her name again, firmly but kindly, garnering her attention without upsetting her. It worked, and she stopped moving for a moment, slightly out of breath in frustration. “Are you ok? You don’t seem yourself at all…” She was grinding her jaw as he spoke, trying to hold her emotions back, but a tear fell from her eye regardless, rolling down her cheek. She huffed loudly, wiping it away quickly and looking to the ceiling, trying to blink back the other tears that were threatening to spill.

“I’m fine.” She insisted, but her voice cracked as she did, another tear escaping as she muttered another curse under her breath. “Sorry, I’m just wasting your time today…”

“Never.” He said firmly, moving to her side of the desk. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know what going on, I just can’t seem to…” another tear rolled down her cheek, his heart broke for her.

“Hey, take a second, just breathe, ok? Sit down, cry if you need to, just take a moment.” She nodded, sitting down on the lab stool with a snuffle. He sat down too, tucking his stool slightly closer to her and waiting until she was ready.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m just overwhelmed. I didn’t sleep too well last night, so I’ve been exhausted all day. One of my professors gave me shit for being late even though the bus broke down on my way here, and that ruined my mood. Another lecture turned out to be some surprise test thing nobody had prepared for so that was horrible. And… well I’m just rambling now and I don’t know if I’ve told you this yet but I might as well at this point because I guess it’s something you should know as my advisor - I have general anxiety disorder and…” she paused, catching her breath and scoffing slightly as she continued speaking quickly, “well, and a whole host of other things I don’t have time to go into but I’ve spent most of the afternoon warding off panic attacks hence the…” She trailed off, holding up her hand which was shaking like a leaf. “So I can’t focus, I can’t control the equipment even though I’ve done at least 30 titrations in my academic career and I was honestly just looking forward to seeing… to doing something practical with my day but…” He didn’t think she’d even noticed the tears starting to fall, but he did immediately. He also noticed the way her voice was getting breathier, and the increasingly frantic look in her eyes. He was worried. She seemed worn out, way too thinly strung and now here she was, crying over an experiment he knew she could do in her sleep. She needed to take care of herself for a bit, to take it easy. But right now, maybe he could help.

His hand moved to her face, brushing the tears away before moving to her shoulder and squeezing.

“Hey, slow down. Look at me. Breathe.” He took a long deep breath, his eyes fixed firmly to hers as she copied, repeating the action a few times. He watched as she slowly seemed to calm, shoulders dropping and tears drying up. “That’s better.”

“I’m so sorry, this was only supposed to take like half an hour. I’ve derailed your whole afternoon, I just don’t know what’s come over me today.” He sighed. The way she felt she had to be sorry for being human made him feel so protective of her, so willing to hurt anyone who made her feel this way.

“You’re stressed, you didn’t sleep well and your anxiety is flaring up. None of that is something you have to apologise for. And you definitely don’t have to apologise for derailing my day - my evening consists of grading papers and getting an early night. Both of those things can wait even if this titration takes all night.” She laughed, wiping away the last of her tears with a grateful smile.

“Thank you.” Her hand moved to rest atop his, which was still sitting on her arm, squeezing slightly. His breath caught briefly at the contact, and it took all the self control in his body to not lean into her touch, to kiss her then and there.

“Always…” he muttered, smiling softly, and after another beat, he slid his hand away, feeling cold at the lack of warmth from her. “Now,” he took a deep breath, grounding himself to reality. *Student, teacher, do the maths - not a good idea.* “Let’s finish this practical.”

His presence was so calming to you. After four failed attempts, you were already doing a lot better - hands steady, breaths even, a serenity you hadn't felt all day. He wasn’t even helping you; just being nearby was enough. He’d grabbed a few papers from his desk and was quietly grading while you worked, the occasional turn of paper and scratch of pen relaxing you. It was starting to get to the difficult part now, but your hands didn't fail you, adding the titrate drop by drop, swirling the flask until… it stayed pink. Just enough, a soft wash of magenta, and you couldn't help but grin.

“See…” he muttered, not once looking up from his papers, “I told you you could do it.” You smiled even wider, holding back every urge within you to hug him.

“Thank you.” You settled on the sentiment instead, jotting down the final measurements. “And…”

“I swear if you try to apologise again, I will kick you out of my class once and for all.” God he knew you so well. You chuckled lightly, biting your tongue to stop you from apologising for that as well.

“Never again, I promise.”

You had packed up, moving as quickly as possible to ensure you didn't waste any more of his time, but honestly, you wanted to be around him just a little longer. Today had taught you that maybe your ever-growing feelings might not be a problem, but a help. He was so calming to be around, so good at putting your doubt and anxiety at ease, and talking to him was easy, terrifyingly so. His company was soothing, and on bad days, at least you knew you had a place to go.

And now, you had to face the long bus to your off-campus apartment, followed by an evening alone with your thoughts.

You had sorted your things, putting on your coat and pulling up the hood, bracing yourself to head out in the dark and rainy evening.

“Thank you again for everything, Professor, I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Wait…” he called out your name as you opened the door, and you paused, internally sighing in relief. “How are you getting home?”

“Just the bus from campus, its not far to the station from here…”

“I’ll take you, I’m leaving here anyway.”

“No, I couldn't ask you to do that, Sir…”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering. Where am I taking you?” You blushed at his comment, heart leaping at the authoritative tone, but telling him anyway. “That's only a few streets away from me, it’s not out of my way at all.”

“Only if you’re sure…”

“I wouldn't have offered otherwise.”

You had made it to the awning of the building, the last moment of peace before you were bombarded by the rain. He followed you out, sighing slightly.

“Do you smoke?” He asked, and the question surprised you slightly. He’d never struck you as the type, but now, as you turned around to see him standing with a cigarette dangling between his lips, you couldn't believe how natural it looked.

“Yeah…” You were relieved. You had been desperate for one all afternoon, but hadn't had a chance. You moved to open your handbag, unsure of where you'd left them, but he had already extended his pack out towards you. You smiled.

“Thank you…” He lit yours first, shielding it with his hands for you, and you couldn't help but notice how close he was to you. He lit his own, and you watched it awe at his beauty as the lighter illuminated his face. His first drag was long and desperate, the deep sigh he let out when he breathed echoing your own relief. You wondered if that's what he’d be like when you were on your knees for him quiet but needy, hand running through his hair and…

“What are your plans this weekend?” You blushed, not at the question but what it had distracted you from, taking a drag while you composed yourself.

“Not much, just studying, finishing a few papers, the usual.”

“No plans with friends? A boyfriend?” He asked almost shyly, then blushed profusely. “Or girlfriend, or partner… sorry I didn't mean to assume.” You laughed at his embarrassment.

“No, no plans. Friends are all out of town or doing the same as me, and no boyfriend to have plans with.” You weren't sure why you felt like you had to clarify that. It was an instinct more than anything, something in you felt like he should know. “What about you? Any plans?”

“Nope, no plans either. Friends are all married with children, so they don't have weekends anymore. And my brother is out of town with work, so that just about rules out everyone.” Your heart sung at the lack of a girlfriend or wife mentioned, but you somehow managed to control your face. “I got a new jigsaw I might try…” You couldn't help but laugh out loud at that, and he laughed with you. “Sorry, I know thats like the oldest old person thing I could've said…”

“No I just… I was thinking the same thing but didn't want to seem old.” His turn to laugh loudly, a sound that warmed you through.

“You don't have to worry about that…”

“Neither do you.” You had replied quickly, without thinking, and suddenly the air was charged. He was looking you in a way that was unreadable, almost curious but there was something else brewing just under the surface. His eyes were locked onto yours, and you found yourself unable to look away, not letting yourself to be the first to break contact. You weren't sure what it was about today - maybe just because of how shitty you’d felt the last few days, how kind and caring he had been, how many times you’d been in touching distance of him - but you wanted him to know you were an option. Even if it was a bad idea, if it could ruin both of you, if it could destroy everything you'd ever worked towards… you suddenly didn't care. You needed him to know you were here, arms open and waiting, if he ever wanted you.

The car ride was quiet, silence only broken by the occasional attempt at small talk. It was as though the look you had shared earlier had shattered your ability to speak to each other normally, a cloud hanging over the both of you, threatening to pour. Eventually, you pulled up outside your building, and your heart broke that it was over. You had to leave now, to be alone in your flat, to try and relax without thinking about him. His touch, his laugh, his smell.

“Thank you for the lift.” You managed to croak out after sitting silent for a moment, voice laced with disappointment you didn’t have the energy to hide.

“Anytime.” He muttered back, and your hand moved to the door, eyes glazing over at the sight of the raindrops hitting the car window. You weren’t sure why you didn’t just leave, open the door and run inside, out of the rain, out of the tension. Maybe it was the weather, pushing you to take comfort somewhere warm and welcoming. Or maybe it was the scent of sandalwood and cigarettes that clung to the leather surrounding you. Or maybe it was the way your arm was still tingling where he had touched you earlier, his hands warm and expansive and calming. It didn’t really matter though. Regardless of the reason, you still chose to open your damn mouth one more time.

“I don’t want to wait until Monday to see you again.” Your voice was barely a whisper, barely audible, but from the way he muttered your name warningly, he heard. You flushed furiously, feeling so fucking stupid. You’d ruined everything. He was your advisor, your professor, your whole support system felled in one swoop. God, you were an idiot. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I’ll go.” You reached for the handle again, tears springing to the corners of your eyes.

“Wait.” His voice was… well, you weren’t sure. It sounded frustrated, sure, but also, there was a desperation in it. A need. He didn’t want you to leave either. “God, I’ve thought about how this might go so many times and never once landed on what I’d want to say.” There was a lump in your throat, and your hands fell back into your lap, turning to see the slightly pained expression on his face, almost pleading. His hair was messy, one hand raking through it as his eyes met yours. “There’s obviously… I mean it’s undeniable the way I… but I just…” He was so nervous, eyes scanning across your face frantically. “I’m your advisor. I’m your Professor. I’m in a position of authority here, its a power imbalance and I’m old enough to…” You had sat calmly listening to him ramble, so grateful that your feeling weren’t unrequited that you didn’t care what other excuses he would try to come up with.

“I don’t care.” He whispered your name again in warning, but softer, and you could see his resolve eroding with every second he was in your presence. “I mean it. You said it yourself, it’s undeniable. And now we’ve addressed it… what’s the harm in trying?” He still looked confused, pain wrought into his features as his eyes locked onto yours. And then, it was like you could see him accept that he couldn’t stop this now. That he didn’t want to. The fear gave way to longing, his hand cupping your jaw in a way that made your breath catch in your throat.

“I need you to…” The nerves were still clear in his voice, but his hand was definite, thumb brushing your lips and you leant into the touch, body naturally caving towards his. “Please tell me your want this. I need to be sure.”

“I want this.” You were so firm in your response, so final, he had no choice but to believe you.

He leant in, cupping your face in his hand, touch so strong, so definite, that any residual doubt melted away as his lips touch yours. It was fleeting, unsure, but not a moment before he had pulled away, you pressed back into him. Your kiss was desperate and bruising, hard and needy and full of months of pent up desire. He returned so fervently you sighed into his mouth, relief and arousal washing over your body. His hand moved to grip your hair, keeping you close, and you cursed internally that you were still in the car, centre console blocking your body from his. You were desperate to touch more of him, to feel his skin under your fingers, to run your hands across the ridges of his chest and up his arms. His grip was still strong in your hair, but you broke for air, watching with a smile as his lips chased yours. His evident need spurred you on, hand moving to rest against his chest and grip the pressed fabric of his shirt as you shared the air in the space between you.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” He muttered half-heartedly, but his blown pupils and subtle smile told you differently.

“Do you want to come upstairs?”

The elevator ride was tense, hand gripped in his, half expecting him to run away, but as soon as your door was open, his lips smashed into yours once more. His hands explored your waist, pressing you to the now closed door, body touching yours slightly. His mouth was saying something different to his body language: lips hungry and needy, body cautious. You were more confident, hands falling to his back and pulling him as close as possible to you. He groaned in response, a low guttural sound that left you panting into his hot mouth. You wanted to gasp his name, but you realised you didn’t know it, embarrassment clouding your mind. You pushed it away immediately, hands snaking round his solid form to his tie, loosening it like a woman starved and throwing it to the side.

“Hey…” he muttered alongside a pant of your name, fingers tracing your face in a tender way, “are you sure you want this?”

“More than anything.” The answer fell from your lips without you even thinking about it. You needed him. He smiled against your lips, hands trailing from your waist to your hips, an invitation. You started to undo his shirt buttons, hands finally coming into contact with his warm skin, hips bucking towards his. A moment of insecurity washed over you. You were young, younger than him by a long way, and while it didn’t bother you, you couldn’t help but wonder if being with someone with so much less experience would bother him. He’d asked for your assurance twice now, and you had just assumed he wanted the same. Maybe he was just here so he didn’t lose his job…

“Is this what you want too?” You whispered, so shy and unsure you could feel the blush spreading across your cheeks.

“More than anything.” His fingers traced your lips, eyes meeting yours, and he must’ve sensed their slightly hesitant nature. “Since the minute you walked into my classroom, I’ve wanted this.” He smiled slightly sheepishly then, eyes flitting down to scan your form. “You were wearing cord flares and a white tee, leather jacket slung over your bag. You looked so confident, so excited to be in my class… you weren’t even looking at me yet, but I saw a glint in your eye that reminded me of myself in my youth. Everything about you intoxicated me from the moment I locked eyes with you. I want this.” The last statement was so final, so raw, you gave in fully. You smiled, looking deep into his eyes to see them unwavering.

“In that case..” you muttered, puling away from his just slightly, pulling your shirt over your head before unbuttoning your jeans, letting them fall to the floor. He stepped back while you were undressing, eyes darkening as they scanned your whole body with desire.

“Fuck…” he muttered the word quietly to himself, continuing to look you up and down in a way that made you blush profusely. He followed suit quickly, slowly undoing the rest of your shirt buttons with a slight smile. You couldn’t help but gaze half-lidded at his bare form, muscles rippling with every deep breath he took. “Where’s your room?”

Your bra and his trousers were long discarded, your bare form pressed to his as he laid above you, hand resting by your head, holding him up as he devoured your mouth. His kisses were getting lower, pressing against your neck and chest as you could do nothing but pant at his every touch.

“Sir, are you…” you didn’t even finish your question, words lost in your tongue as he bit down softly against the pillowy flesh of your breast, a groan escaping his lips against you at the name you had chosen in the heat of the moment.

“Shh..” the soft sound escaped his lips as he continued to move his lips lower until his fingers hooked your pantries, pulling them down slowly, savouring your squirming.

“What are you…” your words were lost yet again as his mouth enveloped your bare pussy, tongue pressing a firm stripe through your folds. You moaned loudly, the sensation enveloping you as you pressed your hips further towards his mouth. He hummed in satisfaction at the movements from you, hands gripping your hips tightly as your thighs surrounded his head. His tongue was expert, circling your clit with perfect precision and you bucked into him again with a whimper, desperate for some direct contact. He chuckled against you, smiling up between your thighs and you could’ve cum there from the sight of him.

“Relax…” he muttered, surly tone immediately forcing your muscles to loosen, pressing into the bed. His tongue flicked across your clit, and you squirmed, pants and whines filling the room as he continued his assault on your sensitive nerves. “Good girl…” his voice rumbled against your cunt, almost pushing you to the edge there and then.

“Please…” was all you could force out, words jumbling in your mind as the pleasure started to take over. One hand released from your hips, and you barely registered as two fingers pushed inside you, thick and deep. You groaned, an animalistic noise drawn from the back of your throat as he hit the spot inside you that made you sing. Every inch of your body was on fire with need as his fingers filled you, tongue continuing its relentless attack on your clit. You were all but an incoherent mess of moans and pants as he kept going, pleasure building and building close to the point of being too much, nerves burning with desire as he feasted on you like a man starved. It didn’t take long for your orgasm to arrive, fast and brutal, blinding you as your thighs squeezed around him, sobs and whines falling from your lips as you rode out the waves on his tongue.

By the time you had caught your breath, his face was an inch from yours, pressing sloppy kisses your jaw and neck. You whimpered softly, feeling the slick he had left between your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his, blinking up at him stupidly.

“I want you…” his lips cut you off, deep and passionate as your words were swallowed by hood’s mouth. He tasted like you.

“You have me. Body and soul.” Your heart leapt at the sentiment, hand brushing through his hair with affection.

“Then fuck me.”

He was pressed against your back, and was impossibly deep inside you, hitting that spot that made your back arch. His hand was tangled in your hair again, lips to your neck as he somehow pressed deeper, and your hand found his thigh, holding him there.

“You feel so good.” You whispered, fucked out and satisfied, already multiple organs in from his perfect cock.

“I’m close baby,” he muttered against your ear, grinding against your ass as you whined for him so beautifully. He fit so perfectly inside you it felt handcrafted, and he groaned softly as he pulled out quickly, slamming back inside as his hips started to stutter. “So pretty, so perfect for me…” his hand reached around to your used clit, pressing gentle circles as you cried out. You would do anything for him, but you were exhausted and overstimulated, a few tears brimming in your eyes at the bliss and pain it provided.

“Please..” you whispered for the uncountable time that night, hips backing into his as he groaned, deep and animalistic. Your orgasm washed over you as he finally came, moaning against your neck as his teeth clamped down carefully.

“So fucking perfect…”

You felt so effortlessly relaxed beside him, sleep encroaching quicker than it ever had. You were exhausted and spent, but happy. Everything you’d wanted for months but refused to admit to yourself had come true, and tomorrow, you’d have to face the reality of it all. But for now, you were at peace, head rested against his chest and feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breaths. Your slumber had started to take you, eyes fluttering closed, when you heard his voice speak softly, as though trying not to disturb you.

“I hope this moment last forever.” You thought confirming his sentiment would somehow diminish him, or scare him off, pretending your sleep had pulled you under, but your heart swelled in agreement. You never wanted to leave this place.

#hwang in ho #hwang in ho x reader #hwang inho #inho x reader #in ho x reader #hwang inho x reader #fanfic #in ho squid game #squid game s2 #squid game #professor au #student x professor #lee byung hun

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godmadeaterribleerror · 1 day ago

Text

Just Too Important - A No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: They're back! They're obsessed with each other! Ben once again is proving that he's the grumpiest old man to ever grumpy old man! Enjoy!

Title from Snooze by SZA

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary/Warnings: You and Ben head to Costco. Takes place about two months post-series.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, Ben being old, pre-established relationship, mentions of smut

There were only five things Ben had ever really fucking loved. Loved with his whole goddamn existence, so much he could probably kill himself with it if he tried.

He’d loved his mom. Loved her in a simple, pure way that he’d probably taken for fucking granted. She had been secure. The only person Ben had known wasn’t going to hate him for being a fuck up or problem. She’d pleaded with his father when Ben had been sent away. Kept in contact with him when she wasn’t supposed to. Still thought of him as just Ben, even when he��d given her every reason not to. Ben had loved his mom because she was his mom. He’d grieved her in drinks and silence when she died, and known that—compared to what he’d been before—she would’ve been proud of him now. Living a life that wasn’t violence and glamour. A life that was just stupid fucking ease and perfection, with a beautiful wife and smart son, in a comfort he’d never imagined he’d get to have.

He loved the movie Legally Blonde. His wife was never allowed to fucking know that.

He loved Ryan. The kid was a fucking genius, and Ben wasn’t sure how the hell Homelander had a single hand in creating him. He was kind and smart and determined, and a purely good fucking person. He’d been born from a long line of deeply fucked men, but he read books and cried when the dog died in a movie. He fucking loved school, and liked people, and tried so hard to be normal that Ben was sometimes worried he’d hurt himself. Ryan never needed to fucking apologize for having powers. He never needed to feel guilt for the shit Homelander had done, and never needed to repent like Ben had. He was just a fucking kid. A kid who sometimes woke up crying because he’d had a nightmare about his father—because they all did—and who’d apologize for waking Ben after. Ben really wished the people he loved would stop fucking apologizing to him.

He loved dancing. His wife already knew that one, but Ben was pretty damn sure she didn’t know just how much he loved it. It was reliable. Simple. Something his mother had made him learn, and something that he could use to make his wife fall into his arms and giggle against his chest. A way to use his body that wasn’t for destruction, an excuse to touch Her until she gave him a perfect, happy smile, and he somehow loved her more.

Because that was the thing Ben loved above every other goddamn thing in the universe. Loved more than the universe. The universe was fucking pathetic compared to how much Ben loved Her. Every single fucking thing about Her. How She smile and laughed and moved through the world. How goddamn kind and clever and perfect She was. All Her big fucking words and Her smart fucking mouth and Her sharp, beautiful features. How She was a fucking brat and a problem, and Ben would never want her any other way, because he was the luckiest fucking pussy in the world for this menace of a woman to love him back half as much as he loved Her. Lucky that She trusted him, looked at him like he was some sort of fucked up savior, and always touched him like she could never do anything better with her hands.

She was perfect. She was a fucking goddess, and every time Ben reminded Her of that she’d flush that pretty color and bury her face in his arm. Right where she goddamn belonged.

You can’t just say that, Ben-

I can say whatever the fuck I want, Sunshine. He’d press a kiss to the top of Her head, squeezing his hold on Her body. I fucking love you, and you’re a goddamn miracle. These pussies should be grateful to be in your goddamn presence.

I think you’re a little bias. She’d mumble between their heads, but Ben would hear the stumble of Her heart, feel her lean further into his body, and he’d smirk.

I don’t fucking care. He’d tangle a hand in Her hair, tugging it back so she was looking at him with wide, blown out eyes. You’re fucking perfect.

She’d smile at him, and Ben’s ribs would bloom and glow with how fucking beautiful She was. How She was all fucking his, to care for and tend to and love. For the rest of goddamn time, Ben got to fucking have Her.

You’re such a dramatic cunt, Benjamin.

He’d chuckle. You fucking love it.

And that would be the end of it. Wherever they were, Ben would find a place to fuck Her in peace, she’d cum all over him—filling the room with a million colors and dancing lights, bursting into flame and screaming his name—and Ben would make sure that she understood. Really fucking got that Ben had never been good at loving things, but loving Her was the easiest thing in the goddamn world. That he’d love Her until the world was fucking razed and scorched and She wasn’t there to love anymore.

Even then Ben would probably just fucking follow Her. That might be the only thing that one day got him. If She figured out a way to die, she wasn’t going to do it without Ben at Her side. She was alive inside of him—infinite and holy, fucking stronger and brighter than the goddamn sun—and Ben never wanted to know a life without Her again.

She’d hate the idea of Ben going just because She went. She’d shove his chest and snap that he’d need to keep living without her, because she loved him too much to want him to die. And Ben would roll his eyes, grumble an agreement, and keep fucking knowing that if they went out, they were going out together.

Everything was so fucking beautiful when Ben had Her to share it with. Without Her he’d just be an old fucking asshole, chasing Her in shadows and songs, sitting at Her grave until he worked out how to turn the stone back into the only person in the world that really fucking mattered.

It was a damn good thing they were both immortal.

The world would not fucking like it if Ben had to keep living without Her.

He’d do anything for Her. He’d burn countless worlds to ash, then rebuild them just for Her to have. He’d refuse to destroy things, because She was good and would never want anyone to be in pain in Her name. If She demanded it, he would keep living, but he’d drive himself mad trying to bring Her back.

He’d learn to raise the dead. To find wherever the fuck She’d gone and pull her back to his side, where he’d keep Her safe and happy and smiling.

Christ, he’d do anything just to make Her smile.

He’d even let Her drag him here, to this massive square building that seemed to be some weird sort of grocery store.

But Ben didn’t remember grocery stores selling TVs, or mattresses, or toys. Grocery stores didn’t sell watches. Or fucking pills and makeup, just a few aisles apart.

Where the fuck are we. He muttered between their heads, and She looked back to him with an amused grin.

You drove us here, Ben.

Because I value my goddamn life, Sunshine.

Shut up-

No. He leaned down, kissing the space between Her eyes with a grin. Tell me where we are, brat, or I’ll fuck the answer out of you.

She wrinkled Her nose at him, even as Ben heard Her heart flutter slightly. No obviously public sex, you horny old cunt-

I never said we’d fuck in public, darling. This place is fucking huge, I’d find somewhere private, and then make you all dumb and pretty on my cock. Ben winked at Her, and Christ, she was beautiful. Wide, glossy eyes and a parted mouth, already putty in Ben’s hands just from his fucking words.

We’re at Costco. She said, a little breathless between their minds. It’s a superstore.

Ben frowned. That didn’t make any damn sense, and he’d have a lot of time to fuck Her later. He needed to understand what in Christ she was talking about.

What the fuck is a superstore. Did they figure out how to shoot up buildings with V and nobody fucking told me-

She laughed, wrapping Her arms around his neck with a shake of her head. No, Ben, it’s a physically large store that sells, like, everything.

Everything.

Pretty much, yeah. She shrugged. That’s why we’re here.

Ben nodded slowly. For the house.

Exactly. She smiled, Her voice soft and teasing between their minds. Good work, Pretty Boy.

Shut the fuck up, brat. Ben pulled Her half up his chest, kissing her until he got a breathy moan, and leaned back with a smirk. What do we need.

I, um… She blinked at him, her eyes a little glazed as Ben just grinned at Her. Fucking Christ, She was perfect.

Need some help there, Sunshine?

Fuck you-

Ben laughed, squeezing his hand on Her waist. No obviously public sex, darling-

Shut up. She muttered, and Ben’s grin only grew, because She tangled her hand in his and leaned further into his body at the exact same time. I made a list.

A list-

For what we need. And, She shot him a stern look, rising slightly on Her toes to hold his gaze. We’re sticking to it. No buying things we don’t need, just because you see them.

Ben frowned. Why the fuck would I get shit we don’t need-

Because you’re a child, my love.

I am not a fucking child-

Yeah, you are. She gave him a soft, teasing grin, and Ben really didn’t know how to actually be annoyed with Her. Not when She was so goddamn beautiful, and looking at him with such adoration, and felt easy and happy around his skull. You’re a massive fucking man baby, Benjamin, and you’re going to see something shiny and try to buy it.

Fucking- I’m not a goddamn pussy with no self-

She pulled him into a slow, deep kiss, half climbing up his chest and molding into his arms fucking perfectly, and he groaned. She’d given him a blowjob before they left the house—Ryan was off at school for the day, and She was a horny fucking problem—and Ben could still taste himself in Her mouth. Mixed with coffee and chocolate, and Her. Always just fucking Her, smiling against his lips and safe in his arms. He could feel the cool metal of Her wedding ring when she tangled her fingers in his hair.

They had to finish this shopping shit right now, so Ben could carry Her to the car and fuck her stupid in the back seat.

You’re my man baby, Pretty Boy. She said between their minds, and leaning back to give him a wide, perfect smile. I love you.

I love you too, Ben grunted, leaning down to kiss to Her brow. You fucking brat.

She hummed, Her smile wide and unrestrained on her beautiful face. Ready?

Ben nodded, grabbing Her hand and pressing one last kiss to Her knuckles. There was Her ring. Both of her rings. Physical fucking proof to anyone who looked that She loved Ben. Wanted him. Fucking adored him.

If She needed Ben for shopping, he’d walk with Her and do whatever she told him to. She’d know what she was doing. She always knew what She was doing, because she was a goddamn force of nature, and if Ben had a say in it, he’d make sure everyone did what she told them all the fucking time.

They didn’t—because most people were stupid fucking dumbcucks that Ben wasn’t allowed to just fucking kill—but they should. All of this post-Homelander shit would be so much easier if everyone would just fucking listen to Her.

And Ben knew how hard She was working on it. How She was calm and collected when she testified before congress and recounted all the shit that fucking pussy had done to Her, but always fell apart after, sobbing and shaking in Ben’s arms. She’d crawl over his body and bury Her face in his chest, he’d feel fucking sick, and wish he could bring Homelander back to life just to fucking kill him again. Everyone demanded too goddamn much of Her, and she always gave it because she was too fucking good, and if all She asked for was Ben to go shopping with Her, he’d do it a billion fucking times.

Anything to make Her tap her fingers because she was picking out wall colors and not because she had to explain how She’d killed Sage. Anything to make Her flush because Ben was kissing her neck in the lamp aisle and not because a bunch of old fucking pussies wanted unnecessary details about Her alleged relationship with Soldier Boy.

It wasn’t fucking alleged. They were goddamn married. They had a son and owned a house together.

A house they needed to put things in. And decorate. And make theirs. So if that was what this trip was about, Ben could fucking do it. For Her.

It started simple. They needed more furniture, they found it.

“We already have most of what we need,” She muttered, pulling Ben through the store. “It’s mostly decorations now. If you see something you like-“

“I’ll like whatever the fuck you like.”

She let out a long sigh. “That not helpful-“

Ben grunted Her name, spinning Her around in his arms and dropping his brow to Her’s.

“Ben-“

“Listen to me.” He held Her gaze, drawing firm circles in her hips. “I could give a fuck what our house looks like, as long as you like it, and there’s no goddamn blue.”

“But it’s your house too-“

“I don’t fucking care.” He grunted. “I’ve told you, Sunshine, we could be living in a fucking dumpster, and I’d be good.”

She scanned over Ben’s face, and sighed. “Can you promise you’ll at least try to find one thing you want?”

“Deal.” Ben kissed Her, dipping her slightly in his arms and keeping Her tucked to his side when they pulled apart.

For Her, he’d try to find one thing. It couldn’t be that fucking hard. This place was huge.

At first, there was nothing. She had opinions on the colors and style of their house, and Ben mostly just watched Her be perfect and smart and happy, grumbling low agreements and kissing Her until she smiled whenever he got the chance. That was what he cared about. Not whatever the fuck rustic or sleek meant. Not about what shade of green their bedroom should be, or if they should have the bird or sunset painting, or if a glass vase was better than a ceramic one.

“Just lie and pretend you have an answer-“

“No. I don’t fucking lie to you-“

“It’s a vase, Ben. I’m not going to freak out and burn the building down because you lie about liking a vase-“

“I don’t give a fuck about the vase.” He snapped. “My job is to buy you the damn flowers-“

“Well,” She raised Her brows, giving him a pointed look. “Where can I put the flowers, if I don’t have a vase?”

Ben scowled. “Smartass.”

“You love it.” She gave him a sweet smile, and he really fucking did. “Choose a vase, Pretty Boy.”

Ben rolled his eyes, glaring between the options, and decided they were both fucking stupid. “No.”

“Benjamin-“

“Get that one.” He pointed to a third, smaller one. It was the same color as Her eyes, and had little golden patterns. He didn’t hate it. “It’ll fit on the dresser.”

She paused, tapping Her fingers on Ben’s arm, and nodded slowly. “Okay.” She gave him a wider, purely fucking adoring smile, and Ben felt his whole body grow radiant. “Thank you.”

“Don’t.” He grumbled, kissing the side of Her head, and a dam broke inside of him.

Suddenly, Ben had a lot of fucking opinions. A red carpet would look fucking stupid in the living room, and Ben didn’t want a weird, twisting lamp on his bed stand. They’d get the shower curtain with little octopuses—octopi, Benjamin—because they made Her smile, but Ben would give MM a fucking blowjob before he used as towel with ducks on it.

“But they’re cute-“

“No.” Ben snapped, grabbing a stack on plain, monotone towels, and dumping them into the cart. “They’re fucking towels, Sunshine, they only need to dry us off.”

“I know, but look at them!” She held the ducks up, giving Ben a pretty pout that was designed to fucking kill him. “Please? Just one?”

Ben scowled. She knew what the fuck She was doing. Looking so fucking beautiful and leaning into his body and making Her sharp eyes soft just for him. He couldn’t say no to Her. He’d never really want to, anyway. Not when he grabbed the towel, tossed it in the cart, and Her smile had the same effect as fucking heroine.

“One.” He grunted. “Because I fucking love you, brat, you get one.”

She kept smiling at him, holding his face between Her hands and kissing him right on the nose. “Thank you, my love-“

Ben rolled his eyes, and dragged Her into a longer, firmer kiss. Until She was a sighing and humming and melting into him, before grabbing Her hand and tugging her to the next isle.

They got shampoo—Ben tried to pick his own out, She looked like she was going stab him or set him on fire, and he decided to let Her handle that shit—a bunch of picture frames, and a lot of useless decorative shit that they didn’t need. Small potted plants that would have to be kept out of the bedroom, a fuck ton of books that She’d probably already read, and some nice, dark green plates.

Ben took over for groceries—that might be the only place in the world where She didn’t know what the fuck she was doing—and he kept it simple. Pancakes. Ice cream. Bagels. Strawberry cream cheese. Coffee. Chocolate. Something called Lunchables that Ryan seemed to like. Apple sauce, because on worse days that was all Ben could get Her to eat, and he’d be damned if he let Homelander keep haunting them like that. Whiskey. Burger patties-

“You know there’s only three of us, right?” She was hanging off of Ben’s arm, giving him an amused look as he tossed a second bag of apples into their slightly overflowing cart. “And we can come back if we host dinner with the team.”

Ben frowned. “You told me Butcher was hosting-“

“He is. I’m saying that’s why we don’t need so many-“

“We need to be fucking prepared.” Ben muttered. “Shit happens, Sunshine, and I’ll be fucking damned if I let us go hungry-“

Ben.

He grunted Her name, glancing down to see open, obvious amusements painted over Her pretty features.

Are you fucking Cold War prepping.

Shut up.

She snorted. Holy shit, you are-

I said shut the fuck up. We need to be goddamn careful, and it’s my job to make sure you and Ryan are safe-

That’s not your job, Ben. She sighed, giving him a soft smile that lit up his whole fucking body. But, if it was, you already do an amazing job, without being an old, paranoid dinosaur. And remember, She squeezed his hand, raising Her brows slightly. Ryan’s literally invulnerable, and I fuck an atomic bomb every day. We’d be fine.

Ben scowled, but put the third bag of apples back. We fuck at least three times a day.

I know. I’m there.

You fucking start most of it-

You’re just proving my point, Pretty Boy.

Shut up.

From there, She made him go look at fucking pants and shirts. Only so She could send Neuman orders for their specialized, supe-proof clothing, but still needing Ben’s actual fucking opinions. He didn’t fucking care about clothing, and he trusted Her with his fucking life, so she ended up making most of the choices as Ben grunted in approval.

They were almost done. And this had been fun—he’d never tell Her that, but he was also pretty damn sure she knew—but Ben wanted to go the hell home. To drop all this shit in the doorway, carry Her upstairs, and fuck Her until she screamed his name so loud all the glasses in the house fucking broke.

All that was left was getting something called a Roomba.

“What fuck is that thing.” Ben muttered, frowning at the metal disc in Her hands. It just looked like fucking junk.

“It’s a robot.”

“A fucking what.”

“Robot. Robot vacuum. It’ll clean the floor-“

“That circle is going to clean the floor-“

“Yep.” She glanced at the label on the shelf. “Do you think we need max power? I don’t really know what average power would do- Ben-“

He’d grabbed the robot—fucking robot—from Her, and was examining it. He didn’t know what the hell he was looking for, only that he wasn’t finding it.

“Ben-“

“This thing is not a fucking robot.” He muttered. “Robots aren’t real.”

“They very much are real, old man.”

“There’s not a chance in fucking hell this thing can clean a floor-“

“Well, it does.” She took the circle back, placing it into the cart and giving Ben a teasing look of disbelief. “Are Roomba’s really going to be the thing that gets you about the 21st century?”

He scowled. “They’re not fucking real, Sunshine-“

“Benjamin, my love.” She moved to stand right before him, holding his gaze to Her’s with amusement dancing all over Her perfect face. She was so fucking beautiful. “You can throw nuclear energy with your brain, pick up trucks with one hand, and I’ve seen you jump off a building without flinching. We’re fuck-buddy-brain-connected. When I orgasm, I make both of us hallucinate. This,” She pointed to the so-called robot. “Cannot be the thing that gets you.”

Shut up, brat. Ben rolled his eyes, kissing the back of Her hand before glaring around the rest of isle. Are all of these things fucking robots.

No, these are just normal vacuums.

Does this place have other robots.

Yeah, probably.

Ben’s eyes narrowed. Where.

———————

You’ve made a grave error.

You don’t think you’re ever going to leave this Costco.

After the Roomba, you’d shown Ben robotic litter boxes, and drones, and a smart speaker. You’re pretty sure that’s where you’d went wrong.

“This thing can hear me?”

You’d nodded, watching him with a small smile you were having a hard time fighting. To any passerby, Ben would’ve looked furious, but you know him. Know that right now, his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes meant that he was shocked and confused.

It helped that you could feel it, pricking on his skin and cloudy around his head. It was kind of adorable.

“It can hear all of us.”

He’d scowled. “Why the fuck is it listening-“

“So you can tell it what to do. Here, look- Alexa? Play Steely Dan.”

“Playing- Steely Dan.”

Low music started to fill the space, and you’d had to bite your cheek to stop the snort at Ben’s expression. He’d looked like he’d been shot. It had been adorable.

And now, two fucking hours later, you didn’t think you’d ever get sick of that expression on his face. He was like a five-year-old loose in a candy shop, walking from aisle to aisle and asking you grumbling questions about various technologies and appliances. If you’re being honest, the only time you’ve seen him look close to this was whenever he’d fuck you. It was a similar expression of pure, raw joy and wonder, but devoid of all the darkened, animalistic need.

“What the fuck are these?”

“Security cameras.”

Ben frowns. “They look like fucking doorbells.”

“They’re both.” You say, resting your head against his chest, and he nods slowly.

“We should get one.”

“Ben-“

“For fucking safety, Sunshine, it would be damn insane not to have cameras when all those fucking pussy Homelander supporters are still out there-“

“I agree, my love.” You smile at him, forcing yourself not the climb into his arms as his concrete concern and resolve wrap around you. “That’s why I asked Hughie to install some already.”

Ben pauses, something hot and sore flaring on his skin. “Why the fuck did you ask Hughie.”

“He’s a tech nerd, and Annie said he’d know the best ones to get.” You kissing the underside of Ben’s jaw, humming against his skin. Next time, I’ll ask you, Benjamin. It’ll be so fucking funny to watch you try to install them.

Ben scowls, adoration flaring in his chest as the soreness eases, and you manage to walk him away from the doorbells.

Most of the afternoon has mostly become walking Ben away from things. For some stuff, it’s easy. Noise canceling headphones wouldn’t work on him. You don’t need a slightly larger TV, because your current one is perfectly fine. You don’t have the space for a hot tub.

“What about these.” He points to the third golf set, and you sigh.

“Ben, you hate golf. You’ve told me it’s a weak fucking pussy sport.”

“And it fucking is, but these things can be damn good weapons-“

“We are not buying weapons.”

“What if someone fucking breaks into the house with a gun-“

“You and Ryan are bullet proof, and I can’t be killed-“

“What if it’s a fucking supe-“

“Then you can blast them with your special sauce, and they won’t be a supe.” You wrap your arms around him, raising your brows. “We’ll be fine, Ben. No golf clubs.”

He scowls, and moves on.

From the golf clubs. And the iPad, and other security cameras, and air hockey table.

But other things are harder.

Because you make a second mistake. You agree with him that you should buy a generator, because it’s practical. But what Ben learns is that you can say yes to things. And now you have an ice cream maker, an air fryer, a truly unreasonable amount of batteries, and lawn sprinklers.

And a vibrator, because Ben had grabbed it, shoved it into the cart, and raised his brows in a silent challenge.

You’d sighed. Ben, I don’t need-

I’m going to have to travel, Sunshine-

I know, but I think I can keep it together until you get back to fuck me yourself.

Or. Ben had winked at you, and you felt his hunger spread in your gut. We could do that Zoom shit, you could imagine that thing is me. He’d lowered down, starting to leave wet, sloppy kisses up your neck. And I could tell you exactly how I’d want to fuck you. How I’d play with that perfect fucking pussy until you were begging for me, then I’d stuff that smart fucking mouth with my cock and start to finger fuck you, make your squirt on my hand while you choke on my dick-

You’d buried your face in his chest, muffling your whimper in his shirt. Jesus fucking Christ, Ben-

You like that, darling? Like thinking about how I fill you up, how fucking good I pound into that pussy, how I make you cum on my cock and hands and face-

You’d agreed to buy the vibrator, but mostly because if he had kept talking, you might have climaxed just from Ben’s voice.

You should’ve left Costco an hour ago.

But Ben still doesn’t seem to be done yet.

“How the fuck are they doing that.” He mutters, poking remote and watching the LEDs shift from green to pink to yellow for the fifth time.

“Semiconductors.” You say, trying not to look like such a dopey, lovesick idiot as you smile at him. “We do have to go home soon. Ryan’s almost done with school.”

Ben grunts, grabbing one of the LED light strings and holding it up for you to see.

You take it from him, kiss his cheek—your lips barely brushing his beard before he’s moving you to his mouth, and you almost fall over—and place the box in the cart.

The total amount of money you’ve spent today is disgusting, but the grin on Ben’s face makes it worth it. All of this is so fucking worth it, because you’re happy in such an average, normal way. You’re happy because Ben’s happy—glowing and furious in your whole body—and he’s everything. He grabs you a chocolate bar in the checkout isle without you asking, and insists unloading everything into the trunk himself.

“Go wait in the car, Sunshine-“

You shake your head, trying—and failing—not to gawk at him. So goddamn handsome the broad daylight, muscles flexing as the moves bag after bag, all yours to climb like a tree when you get home-

You won’t have to get until your get home.

Ben chuckles as you stare at him, and the moment the last bag is in the car he grabs you by your wrist, tugging your back into his chest and slamming his lips down to yours. It a rough, heavy kiss that probably isn’t appropriate for a parking lot, but you can’t really bring yourself to care. Ben’s love is strong and focused and everything in the world that matters. He’s swaying you back and forth in his arms, grinning as he nips at your lower lip and tugs a little at your hair, and you don’t think you’re ever going to get enough of him. Of how forceful and bloody and devout his love is, just in broad daylight when you’ve done nothing but smile at him.

When he pulls away, neither of you bother to fully separate. Ben grins at you, and you smile at him, and when he brushes a little hair away from your face you do the only thing you can think of, and kiss him again. Softer this time, moving your hands to hold his face, allowing yourself to feel so purely safe and warm in the best place in the world. In Ben.

Because you know this will never fade. The love for him in your body that only grows more and more powerful with every passing moment. That you’ll always feel Ben’s love for you, no matter if you’re resting in heaven—caged between Ben’s body and a bed, sleeping or fucking or just smiling at him—breaking down in a hell you’ve visited countless times in life and will visit more in sleep, or standing somewhere domestic and mundane.

You have a life now where you get to be domestic and mundane. Where you get to make out with your husband in a public place, until someone rolls down their window and wolf-whistles, and you have to restrain Ben from picking up their car and throwing it across the lot. Where you get to drive home with Ben’s hand on your thigh and your head resting on his shoulder, and you get to act like that’s all your life has ever been.

It’s all it will have to be now.

For the rest of your life—which will likely be simply the rest of time—all you’ll have to do is be domestic. You don’t think you can be mundane, not when Ben grumbles something and you can feel his love spark and flare in his chest, or when you park the car and Ben carries all fifteen of your heavy bags inside at once without even a grunt. You can’t be mundane when, the moment he puts the bags down, you jump on him, he fucks you against the kitchen counter, and you burst into a flame that sets off the smoke alarm and drenches you both in the sprinklers.

But you can be domestic. You can dry off and cook dinner with Ben—like a normal husband and wife probably do—and let him wrap his body around you and kiss that spot on your neck until you give up on focusing and ride him on the floor.

You can eat with Ben and Ryan, try not to laugh as Ben works out how the ice cream maker works, and curl in Ben’s arms on your couch. Watching TV and sitting easily in the dark.

Ben can tilt your head back for a deep, slow kiss, smirking against your lips when you moan, and mutter your name like a prayer.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he says, rubbing firm circles on your thigh, and you let out a long, slow breath as you flush.

“I think you abuse that word, Benjamin,” you mumble, and he shrugs.

“I don’t give a fuck. You are.” He frowns, turning you to face him in his lap. “I fucking love you, Sunshine, you’re my whole fucking world-“

I know. You smile, leaning down for another, softer kiss that makes Ben groan in your mouth and the whole world start to get a little hazy. I love you, too.

He grunts, but doesn’t bother to do his usual pushing about how you still don’t get how much he loves to you. You do get it. You can feel it, and it’s the most powerful thing in the world. Sometimes you worry Ben doesn’t understand how much you love him. How you can’t even begin to picture a world where you’d never clawed your way through blood and grime to find him. How you can feel his love and resolve and care all the time, and your own love is so eternal and vast you could probably power a universe with it.

But you’ll have all of time to fight with him about who loves who more.

Right now, everything can just be Ben and you on a couch, eating ice cream, and knowing that this—You and him, burning together—is forever.

End Note: Had to make the smart speaker an Alexa. We are in an Amazon based universe. I don’t think they sell Alexas at Costco, but we’ve established that Costco sells whatever I want it to sell. So, Alexas.

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

If you want to be tagged, just ask! (Separate from main taglist)

Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles @brtodd @sthefferrete

@lyarr24 @deansbbyx @bakugotypecrashout @foolinthera1n @globetrotter28

@youdontknowe @nyrtopia @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco @Ambiguous-avery

@elle14-blog1 @impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @heyimolive @alwaystiredandconfused

@kamisobsessed @generalmoonpolice @foxyjwls007 @Jackles010378 @ilovedeanwinchester4 @immastealurkneecaps

@star-yawnznn @Chi-raz @Lori19 @wynnthewynnder @fultiana-kh @woaheasytig3r

@lovelywebber

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badasoneandonly · 2 days ago

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𝘗𝘜𝘛 𝘔𝘌 𝘐𝘕 𝘈 𝘔𝘖𝘝𝘐𝘌 || 𝘏𝘞𝘈𝘕𝘎 𝘐𝘕-𝘏𝘖 × 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘙

𝘞𝘤: 1,118𝘬

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺:

Y/N is manipulated by her neighbor Hwang In-Ho into a relationship, questioning it only to be gaslit into submission, ultimately losing herself to his control.

𝘎𝘌𝘕𝘙𝘌: MANIPULATIVE INHO, NAIVE READER, READER IS 22 WHILE INHO IS 45, NEO-NOIR, DARK ROMANCE, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP.

𝘈/𝘯: 𝘈𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘏𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘰 × 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 ;)

"C’mon, you know you like little girls,” the voice cooed from Y/N’s phone as Lana Del Rey’s lyrics flowed through her headphones. The eerie, saccharine melody filled her quiet room as she absentmindedly hummed along, the words settling somewhere deep in her subconscious. She wasn’t sure why she liked this song. Something about it felt unsettling yet intoxicating, a contradiction that mirrored her own life.

Her neighbor, Hwang In-Ho, had always been there. He had lived next door for as long as she could remember. While their families were close, her connection with In-Ho had always been... different. As a child, she idolized him. He was older, wiser, and had a calm, commanding presence that made her feel safe.

But now, things felt different.

---

Y/N was sitting in her backyard, flipping through a novel, when In-Ho leaned over the fence that separated their properties. His casual smile disarmed her, as always.

“You’ve been reading that book for weeks now,” he teased, his deep voice carrying warmth.

She smiled shyly. “I like to take my time.”

“Some things are worth savoring,” he said, his words laced with a meaning she couldn’t quite grasp.

They chatted for a while about nothing in particular, and before long, he invited her over for tea. She agreed without hesitation. It was second nature to her—In-Ho had always been like an older brother, someone she could trust implicitly.

But that trust would soon be tested.

---

As they sat on his patio, sipping tea, In-Ho began to reminisce.

“You know, I remember when you were just a little thing,” he said, his eyes glinting with nostalgia. “You used to follow me around everywhere.”

She laughed softly, her cheeks warming. “I was a kid. You were the cool older neighbor.”

“You still do,” he said under his breath, but loud enough for her to catch.

Her laughter faltered, and she looked at him curiously. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, his smile returning. “It’s just funny how some things never change.”

The conversation drifted to lighter topics, but a strange tension lingered in the air.

---

That night, as Y/N lay in bed, the memory of his words replayed in her mind. “Some things never change.” It was such an innocent phrase, but the way he’d said it made her skin prickle.

---

The weeks that followed were filled with small moments that left Y/N questioning everything. The way his hand would linger on her shoulder during conversations, the way he seemed to watch her a little too intently when she laughed, the way he always seemed to be there when she needed something.

She told herself she was imagining things. This was In-Ho. He’d always been kind and attentive. He was like family.

But then he confessed.

---

It happened on a quiet evening, as they walked together through their neighborhood. The sun had set, and the streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement.

“In-Ho,” she said, breaking the silence. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he replied, his tone gentle.

“Why do you spend so much time with me?”

He stopped walking, turning to face her. The look in his eyes was intense, almost desperate.

“Because I care about you, Y/N. More than you know.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve always cared about you,” he said, stepping closer. “But it’s not just as a friend or a neighbor. It’s... more than that.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

“I-In-Ho, I don’t know what to say,” she stammered, her mind racing.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he said, his voice soothing. “Just think about it. All I want is to make you happy.”

---

Y/N spent the next few days in a fog of confusion. She had never been in love before, never even dated. The idea of someone feeling that way about her was overwhelming.

And then there was In-Ho. He was safe. He was familiar. Maybe this was what love was supposed to feel like.

---

She agreed to date him.

At first, things were almost perfect. He was attentive and thoughtful, always making her feel special. He would surprise her with her favorite snacks, take her on long drives where they would talk for hours, and tell her how beautiful she was in ways that made her blush.

But as time went on, the cracks began to show.

---

He would ask her not to wear certain outfits.

“You don’t need to dress like that,” he said one evening as she prepared for a dinner with friends. “You’re already beautiful. Besides, who are you trying to impress?”

The comment made her stomach twist, but she brushed it off.

He started isolating her from her friends.

“Why do you need to spend time with them?” he asked one afternoon. “I’m here. Isn’t that enough?”

The questions felt harmless at first, but they began to pile up, eroding her confidence.

---

One evening, as they sat together in his living room, she finally voiced her doubts.

“In-Ho, do you think this is right?” she asked hesitantly.

He looked at her, his expression unreadable. “What do you mean?”

“I just... I feel like something’s off. Like this isn’t how things are supposed to be.”

He sighed, reaching for her hand. “Y/N, you’ve never been in love before. It’s normal to feel uncertain. But I know what I feel, and I know this is right. You just need to trust me.”

---

“C’mon, you know you like little girls,” the lyrics played in her head like a taunting whisper.

She began to question everything: his intentions, her own feelings, the way their relationship had started. But every time she tried to pull away, he would pull her back in with words that felt like a lifeline.

“No one will ever love you the way I do,” he told her one night, his voice soft but firm. “No one else could ever understand you like I do.”

---

Y/N wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that this was love, that the unease she felt was just her own inexperience clouding her judgment.

But deep down, she knew.

She knew that something about this wasn’t right.

---

By the time she realized the truth, it was too late.

In-Ho had woven his way into every aspect of her life, his presence a constant shadow that she couldn’t escape.

And somewhere along the way, she had stopped trying.

𝘛𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵: @ehcausewhynot @akumazwrld @elledumplings @jamiewritesfanfiction-blog

𝘈/𝘯: soo that happened, ik this isnt the usual sad angsty sht i post but like hey its just me branching out to diff genres ^_^ let me know if u liked it, i would love to hear yalls thoughts...

#SoundCloud #frontman x reader #hwang in-ho x reader #hwang in ho x reader #hwang inho x reader #player 001 #squid game #squid game fanfic #lee byung hun fanfic #lee byung hun #oh young il fanfic #oh young il

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xenabutdryad · 2 days ago

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Spock laughing 🥹

#Spock #Of all laughing Vulcans he is the best one #Tuvok also laughed but he was mean about it #Section 31 movie didn't do a good laughing Vulcan but it reminded me about when Spock laughed #star trek

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storiesfromafan · 3 days ago

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Missing Him/Her Was Dark Grey

A/N: I know I'm late to post, on day 3 of a migraine but it's moving on slowly. I bring you the last part of whatever this is 😅 I couldn't find the names of Johnny and Betty's girls, so I gave them names. Pls correct me if they do have names.

Previously: part one, part two

There will be a note at the end, it's a little important.

Warning/s: possible spelling/grammers mistakes

Tag list: @charmingballoon @strayrockette

Being gone for almost three months – open road, his bike and no responsibilities – gave Benny a lot of time to think. Thinking and weighing up the pro's and con's of his relationship with you, which he fully admits was left the worst way. Never had any relationship of his had a moment remotely as bad as that. Yet, no relationship was ever like what he had with you. Sure, there were women before you, but they never lasted or effected him like you did.

You were the light in a dim time. The calm to his storm. Yet that calm did bring on the storm too. If there wasn’t passion there wouldn’t be intense fights. Benny could see that. When you fought he would be passionate about it, about you, but that voice in his head. It was hard to tune out. But from years of being not good enough, it was always there loud and clear. Even when he knew better with you, that it wasn’t like that with you. It was different this time.

You had seen him before he saw you, but Benny was the first to fall. Flirting with you and putting himself out there, while you tip toed around him, doing everything to avoid getting close to the Vandal. But he got you on the back of his bike, and that was it. Sure, slow to start, but slow turned to a moderate pace before fast. A speed Benny was use too.

That was why he came back, he was back for you. No matter how much he tried to turn it off, he couldn’t stop thinking about you or loving you. So he had put on his grownup pants – metaphorically of course – and was back in town for you. Benny was ready to do anything and everything to get you back.

Unfortunately it didn’t look that way for you. As he rolls into town, passing the movie theatre, there you were. And not alone. It was brief but the man beside you looked like a complete square, the ideal man to bring home to your family. First there was anger that some guy was out with you. And secondly that turned to utter anguish that you were out on a date with someone else.

Unable to approach you without loosing it, Benny chose to ride on. And right to Grand and Division. Sure, he’d thought about heading to your house. But it would only be the same, or worse if you were planning to take the guy back to your place. That thought truly gutted him. The idea of another man touching you, kissing you and in your bed. He was close to just not even stopping, just riding back out of town. But Benny had been on the road for hours. He needed to stop, not to mention a beer or three.

Before he even entered the bar, just parked his bike, Johnny and a few other familiar faces came rushing out of the building. Benny had just gotten off his bike when Johnny patted him on the back, laughing and saying how it had been a while. Ushering him into the bar, Benny remained silent while the men around him fussed over him. They were truly happy to see him after being gone. Benny had hoped this was the reception he’d have gotten from you. Instead he was greeted to you and your new beau.

It was a blur of men and drinks, and yet he hardly spoke, unless he had too. Moving around the room to different groups. Even a quick game of pool, which he had no real interest in. Finally stepping out into the night, Benny pulled out a cigarette and lit it while standing in the semi dark street. Other than the muffled noise of the bar, it was quiet. Just what he needed after the night he’d had.

The doors behind him opened, but Benny didn’t turn to see whoever it was. He didn’t really care, so long as he was left alone. Unfortunately Johnny didn’t get that memo. Stepping up next to Benny, he too lit up a cigarette and enjoyed the first inhale. Both men stood there in silence. For Benny it was perfect, he was happy to not speak. Yet Johnny was fidgety, uneasy even. For he’d kept an eye on the young Vandal all night, and could see he wasn’t himself, coming to the conclusion something was up.

“So...” Johnny started, “what’s goin' on? Ya more quiet then usual...”

Benny sighed. Knowing this was coming. “Rough ride...” he offered, hoping that would the end of it.

Johnny studied Benny's profile, knowing that wasn’t it. “Nuh, it’s somethin' else. Talk to me kid...”

Johnny was trying to remain calm, voice soft. Not to spook or anger Benny. He truly wanted to know if the younger man was alright. Because whatever was going on, it showed that it was weighing him down. Diming the light that Benny always had. To Johnny, Benny was like a brother, and he worried about him all the time.

Taking a deep drag of his cigarette, Benny released it was a long sigh. “I saw her, with a...date”. The word date almost being spat, like it was poison.

Johnny slowly nodded his head, the man’s words sinking in. “Oh...I see".

“I saw ‘em as I rode back into town...” Benny paused, taking another drag of his cigarette. “They were by her car. It was a brief moment, but it was her...” He dropped the cigarette and proceeded to stomp it out, like how his heart was feeling.

The older Vandal watched the younger beside him. Seeing how this was really affecting him. That was when Johnny realised Benny had come back for you. All this time away and riding around, he’d made up his mind, and chose you. That he wanted and needed you. But now, having seen you with another guy, the man before him looked crushed and defeated. Though Benny only had himself to blame. Taking off in the first place hadn’t helped, or for so long. If he’d stayed around or came back sooner, maybe you wouldn’t have moved on like you have.

“Well kid...what did ya expect?” He questioned, knowing this was going to be a hard pill for Benny to swallow. That the truth would hurt. “Ya left, and she went through the break up process. It would only be a matter of time before she started seeing someone...”

Benny swallowed hard, trying to accept what the man was saying. Though he didn’t like it, or that he was right. “Yeah, I know...” he paused for a moment. “I-I just didn’t expect it to be so soon...”

Yet again Johnny patted him on the back, but this one was full of sympathy. “Yeah, I know kid...”

Silence rolled in after that. Neither having anything to say, or that there was really any more to be said. Johnny had kept an eye on you, seen you go through the motions and process Benny's absence and the breakup. Yet he didn’t think you’d be dating yet. To him there had to be more to it, but didn’t voice these thoughts. Not wanting to fire Benny back up, for he had finally settled.

The following days Benny had kept to sticking around Grand and Division. Playing pool as a way to distract himself, as well as keeping his hands busy. For Benny feared if he wasn’t kept busy, he just might do something he’d regret. Be it tracking down the man he’d seen with you, or confronting you and that going down in a blaze of heated words, with many he’d come to truly regret.

This was on him. He knew that, and could see it. He was to blame. Benny had done his soul searching while away, finally ready to take ownership for his part in your final fight, and breakup. He was ready to admit to all his short comings, manning up to carry the weight and do what was required of him to fix the relationship. But now he wasn’t sure about it. And with his doubts that voice began to surface, getting louder and louder. Sowing the seed of doubt deeper in him, wanting it to take root for good. So that doubt and that voice would never leave him.

And Johnny could see it. Watching the young Vandal, he could see the doubt taking root. Shutting himself off more to the world around him. This wasn’t the Benny he knew. Nor did he want too. Johnny wanted to see the laid back, care free and madly in love with you Benny. The one who would enjoy being around his club, with a passion for riding. Not this shell of a man that was playing pool with Corky.

Johnny knew he had to do something, anything, to help his friend. Now he just had to figure out what to do to help Benny...

After the blind date incident, you had been keeping your distance from those friends. If you could really call them that. They were barely friends anymore, when you were younger and in school together, you were more alike. But after school, years of working and then Benny, you weren’t like them anymore, not entirely at least. Of course Sally phoned the next day, wanting to know how it went after they left. You told her exactly how it went, and that you weren’t interested in being set up with any other men.

“Oh come on (Y/N/N)!” Sally sighed on the other end of the phone. “You have to put yourself out there, you aren’t getting any younger, Hun”.

Hun. How you detested that word. It was Sally's affectionate word to use when she was pissed off. Looking back on your friendship, you noted every time she used it when frustrated, angry or not getting her way. And that’s when you realised how entitled she was. How she was the one to influence those around her so everything was what she wanted or expected. This time she was not getting her way.

“I am serious Sally. I don’t want to be set up or blindsided into dates" you stated firmly. “I am not ready to move on, I am still processing my breakup with Benny. So I kindly ask that you don’t put me in that position again".

You wish you could see her face, as you just know she would be mad. And her tone told you that she was. “Look Hun, I was just trying to be a good friend. I am sorry that you weren’t happy. But I truly had your best interest in mind”.

You smirked, just feeling her holding herself back. “I understand, I just hope you’ll be more considerate from here on out, yeah?”

There was a knock at your front door. “Sorry Sally, I have to go. Someone’s at the front door".

Before Sally could respond to you, you hung up the phone. That being the best feeling so far of the day. There came a knock again, so you quickly moved from the kitchen and across the lounge room to the front door. Upon opening it you were greeted to Betty, soft smile upon her face and some beers.

“Had a bad day?” You asked her with a laugh.

“I thought you might be havin’ the bad day” Betty replied, moving to sit on your porch.

You followed her out, taking a seat next to her on the bench. “Oh it wasn’t too bad" – you took the beer she offered you – “but hanging up on one of the girls from the movies the other night, the high and mighty one, just perked me up".

Betty laughed as she cracked open her can. “You didn’t!” – you nodded your head – “oh she’d love that. She was the one we ran into a few weeks ago, right? Blonde and wears those high-end dresses? Husband has a cushy office job?”

You nodded. “That’s the one, Sally" you took a sip from the can. “She tried to act like she was helping me by setting me up on that blind date. Said you’re not getting any younger, like I don’t know that. I see myself in the mirror every day!”

“You ain’t old" retorted Betty. “You are young, and look young! Have kids and you’ll be old".

You both laughed, not taking the jest seriously. You continued to moan and groan about Sally and Ann, along with how you were keeping clear of them. You were different, better than who they are. You’re a person who is kind and caring, not a harpy that is mean and manipulating.

You enjoyed sitting there, having a few beers and just bitching about life. This was what Betty and you had been doing since Benny left. At first, she did it to check on you, make sure you were alright. But as you got yourself together it became more of bonding time for you both. And now you’d consider the older woman a dear friend, maybe an older sister. You even spent time with her and her young girls.

Before Betty left, she had invited you out shopping tomorrow with the girls. Which you accepted. Retail therapy was just as good as a beer and a chin wag. With plans made, you sat and finished your beer, before heading in for the night. Yet once alone, you found yourself thinking of Benny. Question after question running through your mind. Along with this longing for him. But you knew he didn’t want you, or else he’d have shown up by now. Those two harpies, that you had called friends, and their blind date had to be the reason for him not coming around.

Or he really was done with me... you thought, feeling the weight of those words on your heart.

The following day, you met up with Betty – and her girls – outside a clothing store. Lori, the oldest girl, hugged you first, then her sister Mary, while you greeted Betty. The girls both took a hand of yours and dragged you into the store, while Betty trailed behind you three laughing. Seeing the happy faces of the two girls warmed your heart, it was nice to be wanted by someone, even if it’s from two young girls, who were just the sweetest.

You and Betty chatted while looking around at dresses. She was trying to find a decent dress to wear for a school function. I have to look like those damn prissy witches, of course watching her language around her girls, who still giggled. As did you. You showed her options, and she did the same. Eventually finding a few for her to try. While she did that, you were looking at clothes with Mary. Being funny picking clothes two sizes too small. Which made the girl laugh, and correct you. To that you acted surprised and told her to stop growing.

“How does this look?” Asked Betty stepping out onto the shop floor. “It’s the better of the two, believe me".

You smiled looking her over. The dress was nothing glamorous but suited the older woman nicely. The red colour suited her fiery nature. The shirtwaist dress really gave that house wife look, and that was what Betty wanted.

“It’s perfect, screams house wife” you said with a small laugh, which both young girls giggled at.

Betty roller her eyes. “Good, I’ll fit in then".

The older woman then went back into the change room to get back into her clothes. You continued to entertain the two young girls. But the sound and sight of motorbikes caught your attention, along with the two girls with you. Mary was saying dad over and over again, moving to the change room to tell her mother.

You felt this coldness wash over you, if Johnny and a bunch of Vandals were nearby, so was Benny. The look Betty gave you, as she was pulled from the dressing room by Mary, told you she was thinking along the same lines as you. Mary of course kept pestering her mother about seeing Johnny, her father.

“You alright with it?” Betty asked you softly as you both headed for the registers.

You sighed but gave a short nod. “Yeah...best way to get a band aid off is to rip it off, right?”

“That’s not the best way! It hurts too much!” Mary cut in. Making you and Betty laugh.

With the mood lightened just a smidge, Betty proceeded to pay for the dress. Once it was bagged up and in Lori's hands, the lot of you left the shop. Moving down the street, further down you could see the cluster of motorbikes, and their riders. With every step towards them you felt your stomach sinking. A touch of fear rising from the thought of seeing Benny. Would he look to you? Or speak to you? Or would he act like you didn’t exist?

Reaching the corner, which was adjacent from the Vandals group, Mary spotted Johnny and called out to him. He of course looked around before spotting his daughter, his face lighting up at the sight of his girls, Johnny even returned the young girls wave. It was a sweet moment, you thought.

But when you looked upon the group of men again, that was when you saw him; Benny. He was standing with Cal, cigarette between his fingers as he took a drag. They were in conversation, Cal fuelling the conversation with lit up face and hand movements. But Benny, he looked as good as always. Just adding to the ache in your chest. That listening but aloof look and air to him. It gave him that mysterious but sexy appeal.

Then those stormy blues of his were looking at you. Your step faltered for a second under his gaze. Even from this distance you could see the anger and hurt in his eyes, his face just showing it slightly by the subtle changes. Such as his jaw clenching, eyebrows drawing together. Finally you looked away from him, unable to take it anymore.

Reaching Johnny, Mary launched herself at her father. Who didn’t hesitate to pick her up and hold her close. Betty leaned up to kiss Johnny's cheek, and Lori moved to stand beside her parents. They were the kind of family you had hoped to have one day with Benny. The thought now seeming like a silly dream.

“Hey (Y/N)” greeted Johnny, an awkward smile on his face – possibly due to you and Benny being in close proximity. “How are ya doin’?”

“Hi Johnny" you smiled softly, a little uneasy. “I-I'm alright. How are you?”

The older Vandal softly chuckled, possibly nervous. “Yeah, can’t complain...got my girls here, which is good".

Johnny then jostled Mary, who was still in his arms and laughed from her father’s movements. Your smile turned warm from the sight. “That’s good...they are very lucky...”

Johnny beamed at your words but didn’t say a word. He didn’t need too. The pride and joy on his face said everything. Even with the club, the man tried to maintain a balance of both worlds. He loved Betty and his girls dearly. The way he cared for both his family and bike, and club. It was something you wished Benny understood. But it never took root in him.

Eventually the girls took to running around the park, that the Vandals were parked at. Lori forced to chase her sister, as you continued to talk to Betty and Johnny. Different Vandals joined you all at different times, before moving on to another group. Before you knew it Cal and Benny stepped up to you all.

You tensed when Benny stood across from you. But he didn’t look to you, if he could help it. He was treating you like you weren’t there. And that saddened you, but also angered you more. He just listened as Cal or Johnny spoke. Maybe saying a word or two. His voice – a sound you hadn’t heard for so long – cutting deeply, missing how he would speak to you. All you got now was nothing.

“Where have ya been (Y/N)?” Cal asked, casually sparking up a joint.

You tensed, swallowing before answering. “J-just working...nothing special...”

Cal nodded as he took a drag of his joint. “But ya haven’t even been too Grand and Division for about three months...”

You shrugged trying to not cast a look to Benny. As he’d been the reason you hadn’t gone back to the bar, he’d left town after all. “I didn’t feel like going to the bar...”

Benny scoffed, but didn’t say a word.

Betty shot him a look, before she looked to you in sympathy. “Things change Cal" was her sharp words, telling him to drop it.

Said man held up his hands, starting to catch on that this was not a road to go down currently. “A-alright...” Cal sputtered, choosing to leave it at that.

You felt lighter, knowing it was being dropped. Unfortunately Benny wasn’t done. His gaze drew in on you. Hearing you speak so airy got under his skin. How you didn’t disclose that you had been busy with another man, or men, and going on dates. That had to be what filled up your time, right? It’s what Benny had concluded on. The last month or more, you were out and about, trying to replace him.

Dropping his cigarette to the ground, Benny stomped it out. The aggression and sound caught everyone’s attention. And when looking to him, yourself included, his dark gaze was set on you. A chill ran down your spine, telling you this was not good. He had been so calm, but here was the storm. And you were in its path.

“Why don’t ya tell the truth" Benny’s voice boomed, the gravelly tone deeper and off putting. “Ya didn’t go to the bar because ya were getting around town with different guys".

The tone and the accusation he made left you dumbstruck. Benny had seen you with one man. Where did he get the idea, it was more than that one? Betty was sputtering, coming to your defence but you couldn’t make out what she was saying. The sounds around you turned fuzzy, almost like static, as you stood there in shock. You hadn’t been running around town with Tom, Dick or Harry. You’d been heartbroken and trying to get yourself back together.

Slowly the anger in you rose, with it the fire clearing the fog in your brain, bringing you back to the present. Grasping what Benny was saying, accusing you of not caring, you found that backbone. It was like that night all over again. His lack of seeing or understanding, jumping the gun. You stood tall, shoulders lowering as you drew your gaze in on him. And when Betty quieted down, you knew she could see what was to come.

“For your information, which I really don’t have to give you, the other night was the first date I’d had in forever" you stated eerily calm, but with a touch of sass. “I was blindsided into it. So maybe, in future, get your facts straight Benny”.

There was more you could say, wanted to say, but the way he looked at you like you were lying kept you from airing it all out. He wasn’t listening to you, like usual. He had made his mind up for good. So it wasn’t worth your time or energy to make him see or believe you. This was the Benny you knew all too well. If you continued to fight it would be a loosing battle, as he had made his mind up.

Taking a step back you turned from him, casting a look to Betty and Johnny, who looked like deer in headlights. But there was sadness there in their eyes. Betty knew the truth, she knew what you’d been through. She was there for you, seeing how hard you took his absence. Johnny might have known, for Betty could have kept him in the loop, but he also checked on you. But you never went into depth of it all like you did with his wife.

“Betty, I'm going home. I’ll talk to you later, tell the girls my goodbyes and I’ll see them soon" and with that you turned around and headed the way you came.

You held your head high, striding away like you were on a mission, which was one to keep it together. No crumbling in front of Benny, or Betty or Johnny, no one would see you fold. As you walked away you could hear Betty fire up at Benny. If you couldn’t do it, she was. You know she would give him a good dose of reality. Yet didn’t care. There was no coming back from this now. Right?

A/N: yes, I lied. Sorry, not sorry 😅 but the next part will be the last, I promise. And it will be steamy/smutty. Who doesn't enjoy a heated argument leading to make up sex?

Till the next, final part...

#benny cross x reader #benny cross x y/n #benny cross x you #the bikeriders x reader #austin butler x reader #benny the bikeriders

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verchante · 2 days ago

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Chaand Baaliyan - LN4

cw: fluff, desi!reader, iitian reader, curse words, this is based of of me missing delhi and my frnds who are in kota rn, thinking of making this into a series smth like iitian diaries even tho i'm a commerce student 💀

lando norris was not the smartest person. it's a known fact. his girlfriend, however, was one of the smartest people he knew. she could do tough math questions within minutes! and that too without a calculator. afterall she graduated from iit-delhi, computer science branch. boosting an air of 4th (it's the red string of fate he believes).

however, she cursed alot, like alot to point even caught on her and incorporated into his vocabulary. words like bhenchod, bhen ke laude were just her regulars.

"it's because i graduated from iit delhi," she justifies. and there are instances even his fans caught him saying those words leaving the entire desi f1 community in a fenzy.

"i'm literally the best at this," lando says. he was on stream with max and his other friends. "mate shut the fuck up. we all know you're dyslexic. there's no way you're good at a maths game," max fewtrell rolls his eyes.

"no, i'm literally the best at this! i swear," he argued. "wanna check?" his girlfriend was sitting next to him, out of camera but the others didn't know that!

"you're on mate," max says at the game loaded. "79×66," lando reads out loud. "oh yeah what's the answer huh?" max asks. "let me calculate!" lando exclaimed.

"5,214," his girlfriend whispered. she was away from mic but perfectly close enough for only lando to hear her. he clicked on the correct mcq. "beginner's luck," a comment read.

as the game went on the calculations became harder than the previous one. I = ∫[0, ∞] (x^3 / (e^x - 1)) dx was one of the question, intergal calculus.

"mate you either you're googling it or you have a calculator. there's no way you can do that!" max exclaimed. "see even the chat agrees that you can't do .... intergal calculus. holy shit i didn't even know it was called intergal calculus," he said.

lando was just glad that max was buying time, it gave his girlfriend time to do the calculations. "I = π^4 / 15," lando answered, with a smug look. "bhenchod there's no way he's doing this," lando read one of the comment.

"jhand fakir behen ke laude, shut up," he replied equally agitated. and that's his girlfriend burst out laughing. the chat and max heard her laugh. "see there was someone else!" max pointed. "oh god," she mumbled between her laughs.

lando pulled her into the frame, showing off his girlfriend. "where'd you learnt that?" she asked. "from you," he shrugged, letting her sit onto his lap. "okay but i never taught you jhand fakir and all," she chuckled. "yeah what was that movie we were watching the other day? that's where i heard," he says.

"tamasha?" she asked as he just nodded, latching himself onto her. "we're practically one person at this point, it doesn't matter if she's doing the calc or i am doing it," he spoke to the chat. "don't insult her smart brain," max scoffed. "i genuinely don't know how you were doing all the tough calculations so quickly," he added.

"actually my girl went to kota to study for jee and she was taught how to do all the calculations within three minutes. you have the pick up the pen only when you're done solving in your mind. plus she scored 358/360 and an air 4 despite the advanced paper being the toughest that year," lando answered for her.

"she also taught me hindi," he bragged. "yeah and you got me in trouble for it," she rolled her eyes at him. "babe i didn't know bhenchod was a curse word. you say it often," he looked at her.

"weird indian parents logic that you can crack iit-d with air 4 and still can't curse 💀," read one of the comments. "behenchod i know right!" she agreed. "look at you! how will i not catch on these words," he says making her roll her eyes.

the game was long forgotten as the trio kept on talking to the chat. max left stream to the love brids. "di career tension, downfall and dperession ho raha hai what do i do?" she read. "bakchodi," lando asnwers. "look downfall mein bhi bakchodi nahi rukhni chaiye," he added.

making his girlfriend laugh. "it's the accent for me," she says, wiping her tears. "chup," he mimicked her. "you know you're completely desified at this point," she says. "reverse colonization," the couple laughed at his words.

the rest of the stream was filled with laughter, talks about latent and lando being more desi than his actual desi girlfriend.

#lando norris #f1 #formula one #ln4 #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando norris fluff #ln4 x reader #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #desi!reader #lando x desi!reader #f1 x desi!reader

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bullet-prooflove · 1 day ago

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Welcome Back - Connor Rhodes x Reader

Tagging: @cosmic-psychickitty @brianbabygirlzvonecek @ikbenplant @rosaliedepp @mrspeacem1nusone @thebewingedjewelcat @sowrongitslottie @readingbookelf @earthtolottie @crazy4chickennuggets @cixrosie @halsteadloversworld @i-spaced-sorry @1234-angelika @wolfers-stuff @voidsteffy @aaronhtchnrs @mysoulisasunflower @luckyladycreator2 @kabloswrld @xoxabs88xox @evee87 @celilice1 @katluke25 @one-sweet-gubler @wooshwastaken @anime-weeb-4-life @99-reasons-to-live @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hrandomthoughts @witches-unruly-heart @infinity-mars @hermionelove @cupids-lover @emma-dawson @telepathay @upsteadlogic @iworldlywriter @ritasantosworld @nu1freakshow @kylieramey @nothinbtannika @samanthaofanarchy @whovianwholikesgirls @irishavengersassemble

You were awake but barely, your eyelids fluttering open as you came to stare up at the ceiling of the elevator. Everything was fuzzy, there were black dots dancing before your eyes as you blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear your vision. You were cold, your body shivering compulsively, your breaths coming in forced ragged pants as the pressure increased on the writhing fire in your abdomen.

"Welcome back." Connor's voice was ringing in your ears as your head came to rest upon the wall.

"Bleeding won't stop..." You mumble.

Your pallor was ashen and grey, your skin waxy underneath the emergency lights. The copper tang of your blood was in the air, settling in the confined space. Connor could taste it on his tongue as he inhaled the metallic scent.

"I've got it under control for now but you’re going to need a transfusion." Connor tells you, pressing the heel of his hand even harder against your stomach.

The truth was you needed surgery. The stab wound was deep, you were lucky that lunatic hadn't lacerated any of your vital organs. He’d been on his way out when the hospital had gone into lockdown, an inmate from the prison had gotten hold of a scalpel and tried to stab his way out. You’d been on your way down in the lift when it had open at his floor.

"Cold." you mutter.

Connor's already stripping his jacket from his arms before draping it over your chest and tucking it around you. It smells like him, like patchouli and cedarwood, earthy tones with a warmth that radiate through your bones. You sink into the scent, drawing strength from his presence.

"This will warm you up." He says kindly, his hands lingering on your shoulders. "I'm gonna have to move you. We need to get you to a treatment room."

He takes your arm and guides it around the back of his neck, you grasp the collar of his tight black T-shirt. His arms loop underneath your knees and back before he gathers you up against his chest and rises to his feet. You cry out in agony as the spike of red hot, pain tore through your insides at the abrupt motion. The excruciating noise wrenches at Connor's heart.

"I'm sorry." Connor says in a low soothing tone as he begins to take quick steps down the corridor.

Your head comes to rest on his shoulder, cheek pressed against his collarbone. He can hear your choked, shallow breathing before a near hysterical laugh emits from your lips.

"You ever seen that old movie 'The Bodyguard'?" You asked him.

"I'm a poor stand in for Kevin Costner if that's what you’re thinking." Connor responds, as he hurries towards the emergency room.

"I can't remember that song." You say, your voice lowering an octave. "You know that awful song."

"I'm not singing it you." Connor informs you.

"What if it was my dying wish?” You murmur against his chest, your sounding distant.

"You’re not dying." Connor tells you firmly. "You just need to hold on a little longer until we can get some blood in you."

"I'm so tired." You confide your eyes fluttered closed. "I just want to stay here and go to sleep."

"Don’t do that." Connor says sharply.

You head lulls backwards on it's own accord, your body going slack in his arms. Your grasp on his collar slipping as your fingers unfurl. Connor tilts his head downwards, slowing his step as they rounded the corner just a few steps away from the Emergency Room. Your lips were parted, he can barely see the raise and fall of your chest. His eyes fixate on the growing red stain spreading rapidly across the material of your shirt. He glances back up the corridor to see red splotches of blood trailing along the path.

He erupts through the double doors and into the busy E.D, slipping into the nearest treatment room as he shouts for help. He lays you down with the greatest of care before snapping on a pair of latex gloves and getting to work.

Love Connor? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Want more Connor? Check out his Masterlist here!

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#connor rhodes x reader #connor rhodes #doctor connor rhodes #connor rhodes x you

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theladyheroine · 2 days ago

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Team Sonic’s Favorite Disney Movies! ✨👑

❥ Hello everyone! So, I was a little bored so I decided to make this lol, but I hope you enjoy! Thank you & have a good one! 🙌💕

Sonic 💙

Treasure Planet

He thinks Jim Hawkins is the coolest Disney protagonist: loves the action, the pirates, the dramatic flair of the characters, & the board! The solar board tricks are his favorite scenes! He sometimes asks Tails to make him one, but Tom says no. (Lol)

Loves the world building & even thinks about buying the original “Treasure Island,” says he will but completely forgets. Asked if there was a comic ver. or a graphic novel.

Was suspicious of Long John Silver, but adored their relationship at the end. Thinks his cyborg arm is cool!

Cars

Everyone saw this coming (lol) but Sonic adores the Cars franchise! Every single one! But prefers the first since they’re always the best ones, sings “Life is Highway” every time it comes on! Adds it to his running playlist or whenever he needs some good energy. The perfect mix of rock & country!

Wishes cars could talk after first watching this. Will sometimes go all the way to Arizona just to take a crack at running the canyons; Knuckles is the only one that knows…

Loves Cars 2! Thinks it’s hilarious but also pretty epic in its own way. Tow Mater makes him laugh every time.

Tails 💛

Big Hero 6

While the action & vibrant color schemes are amazing, he’s more interested in the advanced technology & world building. Loves Baymax & has even considered building his own version of a medical robot for Maddie’s work. But she claims they’re just fine. Tom has tried asking for a robotic housekeeper though!

Relates to Hiro Hamada a lot about wanting to prove himself as both a good friend & an inventor. Loves the passion Hiro puts into his work, but the big scene with Tadashi is a little too sad for Tails. 🥺

Cheers every time Baymax comes back! Will sometimes play the film as background noise when he’s working, or just the soundtrack.

Luca

The unique art style & colorful landscapes are what catch his eye first, until the whole sea monster bit rolls in. Loved the concept of them becoming human when dry, but sometimes doesn’t understand the science behind it. He might think a little too hard about it… 😅

Luca’s relationship with Alberto reminds Tails of him & Sonic when they met! You can guess who’s who (lol) but their hijinks with the race always make him giggle. It reminds Tails of Sonic’s antics.

Loves Luca’s want to learn & study things about the human world. Will look for a book about old Italian history or even sea creatures after he finished the movie. Every time!

Knuckles ❤️

Beauty & the Beast

Gets super into romance films after hanging out with Wade’s mom, & it’s always his first pick for family movie night! Enjoys the songs after Tom explains musicals, but Knuckles loves Belle’s endless curiosity & fearlessness. Absolutely despises Gaston though, sometimes he can’t sit through his song.

Enjoys the message of “beauty within” & loving someone for who they are, not for their appearance. If Shadow joins the family, they’re both watching this film! 😂

The ending always catches him off guard even though he knows what happens next. But the heartfelt moment between Belle & the Beast always tugs at his heart. Poor guy teared up a little when he first watched it.

Brave

Was immediately intrigued by the warrior princess! So much so he took up archery by carving his own bow & arrows. Until he used all the firewood to do so; he had to help Tom find more after that. But at least he’s a skilled archer now!

Finds the concept of a bear curse interesting, as to him bears are powerful but loving creatures. Honestly thinks it’s cool having a bear mom. He gets real invested once the action starts to kick in, & admires Merida’s valor greatly.

At one point he found a little bear cub out in the woods while training & believed it to be abandoned. Maddie flipped out when she saw it, & made Knuckles take it back home. He did & even became friends with the Mama bear.

Bonus! Shadow 🖤

Robin Hood

I imagine this was Maria’s favorite & she would always have this as an option for Shadow on movie night. A classic Disney film that also has a lot of whimsy & color, which Shadow appreciates since the main cast is so likable. Don’t tell anyone that though. 🤫

Loves romance as well & is not ashamed. Sees Marian & Robin as the perfect Disney couple since their will to be together is so strong. But sometimes wishes Maid Marian would do something other than wait for Robin, but he appreciated that pie toss! 🥧

Decided to take up archery along with Knuckles, but becomes frustrated he can’t get it right away. Eventually he gives up after attempting a trick shot on a smaller target, that being Sonic’s old baseball cap.

Finding Nemo

While Shadow loves his found family tropes, he really likes the film because of Nemo. Finds him & his little fin adorable, but enjoys Nemo’s determination to become better. Also don’t tell anyone. Especially Sonic! 😅

Finds the vibrant ocean images & setting very calming, but loves how educational it can be. With how animals work with their environment & whatnot. Especially the part with the whale, he gets so amazed but also very confused by it (lol).

Another secret is that he finds Dory funny; her little quips & funny moments usually get a small smile or even a chuckle out of him. Even her little noise effects during the jellyfish scene get him smiling! But her behavior reminds him of Maria a little bit, so he enjoys her screen time a little more.

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simp2537 · 2 days ago

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𝓗𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻

a/n: We start the movie with this chapter 😝. Oh my goodness how I love this fic already. I hope yall enjoy.

Word Count: 3926k

Trigger Warnings: child abuse, depression, war, war crimes, imprisonment, torture, abuse, predatory behavior, anxiety, nightmares, suicidal thoughts, death gore, murder, teen pregnancy, drug abuse, alcohol addiction, just heavy themes all around

Chapter Three

Normal School

Y/n smiled as she raced Bella downstairs. Bella wasn’t actually racing she knew that. Being back in her childhood home made her want to jump for joy. She slammed the door open and all but ran outside to her dad’s side.

She smiled brightly at the father and son in front of her. Jacob smiled back at her as her dad moved to speak.

“Bella, Y/n you girls remember Billy Black.” Charlie tells his daughters. Y/n nods her head with her normal bright smile. She can remember all the play dates she would have on the reservation with Jacob.

“Wow, you’re looking good.” Bella says smiling.

“Well, I’m still dancing.” Billy answered.

“You never could out dance me though.” Y/n giggles. Billy smiled at Y/n as she shook his hand.

“I’m glad you girls are finally here. Charlie here hasn't shut up about it since you told him you were coming.” Y/n laughed softly at Charlie’s bewildered expression.

“Miss us that much daddy?” Y/n asked giggling. Charlie rolled his eyes at his young daughter and scrunched at her hair.

“All right, keep exaggerating. I'll roll you into the mud.” Charlie amused.

“After I ram you in the ankles.” With that Billy rolled over to Charlie. The two men began to playful fight. Y/n smiled softly, she’d liked Mr. Billy. We would let her sit in his lap and read to her when Charlie would work late shifts.

“Hi I’m Jacob.” Y/n eyes widened as she saw him. He was taller now, more muscular too. When they were little he was short and scrawny. His ebony hair had grown out a bit more. She remembered him well.

It was like the universe wouldn’t let her forget, her bestest friend. Jacob Black.

“We used to make mud pies when we were all little.” He continued smiling.

“Right, no I remember now.” Bella smiled. Y/n couldn’t hold back her grin anymore and she pounced onto him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as a squeezed him.

“I hated those mud pies! I would just braid flowers in both of your hairs.” Y/n laughed as she pulled away from him. A soft pink dusted over Jacob’s cheeks as she pulled away.

“Y/N! You’re back!” Jacob chuckled not knowing what to say.

“It’s a shame you grew so much. I can’t make fun of you about how small you are anymore.” Y/n turned to Bella with a smile. Bella shook her head softly and looked over at their fathers.

“Are they always like this?” She asked softly.

Jacob shook his head slightly replying, “it’s getting worse with old age.” Y/n smiled again as she stared up at Jacob. He still has the small scar under his chin from when they went swimming together when it was storming.

Y/n hadn’t realized she been staring for a while till she hear Bella squealing in excitement. She turned as Bella was moving around the red truck.

“This is perfect.” Y/n followed Bella into the car she hit Jacob with the door. Her arm shot out catching his back and helping him back up. He turned to her staring for a few seconds. Y/n blinked and sat next to Bella with a small smile. Jacob quickly slide into the car next to her.

“Listen, you gotta double-pump the clutch when you shift, but besides that you should be good.” Jacob told Bella. Y/n watched Bella test it out quickly.

“Do you want a ride to school or something?” Bella asked. Y/n turned to Jacob. She knew it was a long shot but maybe they could go to school with one another now.

“I go to school on the reservation.” He admitted with a smile.

“I wish we could go to the same school.” Y/n muttered softly.

“That’s too bad, it would’ve been nice to know one person.” Bella answered. Pouting Y/n gently hit her sister’s arm.

“What am I then?” Bella rolled her eyes.

“You don’t count in that aspect.” Y/n scoffed softly and crossed her arms. To her sides both people laughed at her.

…………………………….

Regular human school was boring. Y/n sat next to Bella at her lunch table unamused. She’s already been asked three times if she had studied in Italy. She wasn’t sure why that’s the country everyone picked.

The cover for the academy wasn’t even in Italy, it was in Egypt. The desserts made the perfect hiding grounds for the portals to the hidden realm. She didn’t like how all the boys seemed obsessed with Bella.

They reminded her of rabbits in heat looking for a mate. She liked Erik, he seemed nice enough. Mike was fragile but a little funny. Quietly stabbing her fork through her apples coated in honey and tajín. She perked her head up at Bella’s words.

“Who are they?” Bella asked staring out the window. Y/n’s gaze drifted to where her sister laid. Walking into the cafeteria were two pairs of boy and girl.

“The Cullens.” Angela answered with a smile. Y/n furrowed a brow at her. Cullen? She’d sworn she’d heard the name before.

“They're Dr. and Mrs. Cullen's foster kids. They moved down here from Alaska, like a few years ago.” Jessica answered handing Y/n half of her sandwich. She smiled softly and ate it quietly.

Gods above and below how Y/n has missed a simple sandwich. With deli meat, cheese, and mayonnaise. She loved all the food she’d ever eaten but there was something nostalgic about a plain sandwich.

“They kind of keep to themselves.”

“Yeah, cause they’re all together.” Jessica added smiling like the gossip queen she was. “Like together, together. The blonde girl, that's Rosalie, and the big dark-haired guy, Emmett, they're like a thing.”

Y/n stared at them as they walked past her table. Rosalie the blonde was gorgeous beyond belief. Her hair was perfect in every way, soft, bouncy and smooth. Emmett the big dark haired boy was no different. Not an imperfection on his body.

He was huge like a pro football player. His large hand tightly wrapped around Rosalie’s. But as they passed a stench wafted into her nose. Like the smell of a hospital completely sterile.

“I’m not even sure that legal.” Jessica whispered.

“Jess, they’re not actually related.” Angela snipped quietly.

“Yeah, but they live together. It's weird.” Jessica turned back to the Swan sisters. “Okay, the little dark haired girls Alice. She’s really weird, and she’s with Jasper, the blonde one who looks like he’s in pain.” Y/n watched as Alice twirled about.

Weird wasn’t the right word. She was so pale, paler than Bella and that was an achievement. Jasper did look like he was in pain. His eyes were glassed over like some ravaged wolf. Hungry carving blood.

They too had not visible imperfections.

As they passed her they left a new scent to her nose. It smelt like smoke, maybe a hint of smoke. It was faint, not entirely unpleasant like the two before them. It was just odd. It was familiar to her.

“Dr. Cullen's like this foster dad/matchmaker.” Jessica amused. Y/n scoffed softly as she finished her last bite of sandwich. Jessica smiled softly at her, handing her a small package of cookies.

“Maybe he’ll adopt me.” Y/n froze for a second so small it thankfully went unnoticed. Adoption… the word sent shivers down her spine. She wasn’t ungrateful to be living with her dad and sister.

She loved them dearly, but it always made her feel uneasy.

“Who’s he?” Bella asked staring so deeply it made her confused. There he walk, the object of Bella’s thoughts. Y/n could practically feel the way her heart began to move.

“That's Edward Cullen. He's totally gorgeous, obviously, but apparently nobody here's good enough for him. Like I care, you know?” Jessica finished. Y/n wanted to visibly recoil.

Edward wasn’t ugly, handsome and perfect. She hated it, she wasn’t sure why. He like all his siblings were perfect. There was something off about him though. The way his lip curled when Jessica talked about him.

As he passed her his smell was something else entirely. He smell still, like a heart that hadn’t beat in a hundred years. Completely frozen over, like ice had found its way around his heart.

Bella stared at him too, but not like herself. She admired him for the distance. Y/n couldn’t bring herself to.

“Seriously, like don’t waste your time.” Jessica mentioned as she saw the sister staring.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Bella uttered as she looked back.

“He’s probably too old for me anyway.” As she turned back his eyes were baring directly at Bella. Edward’s gaze turned for a moment to her. His eyes were blacked with not clear distinction between iris and pupil.

His whole family smelt, they were not human. Y/n was a skilled enough hunter to know that. They were something else entirely. Now she just needed to figure out what.

Then she would have her first real hunt as a branded hunter.

…………………………….

Mike had graciously decided to lead the two sister to Biology together. It took him a moment to realize that Y/n was a junior with them. It seemed he’d forgotten quickly how smart she was.

“Mr. Molina.” Mike greeted as he walked to his seat. The teacher smiled at him as both Bella and Y/n walked in. Her baggy leather jacket was held in her hands as she followed.

“The two Swans.” Mr. Molina greeted. Y/n played with her pendant dangling from her neck. She thought of Kellan as she looked over all her jewelry. He’d crafted them all himself. The pendant hung elegantly over her chest.

On instinct her and a hand wrapped around it. She clung to it for comfort. She wasn’t afraid. Fear was the mind killer. To be afraid was to let your enemies have control over you. She was not afraid. Just uneasy.

Y/n’s eyes roamed the class room till the landed on the Cullen boy. His black eyes bore into hers with an animalistic expression. His scent enveloped her senses, unchanging, unmoving, just still.

She watched his face recoil as the fan blowed the air through her and Bella’s hair. His hand covered his nose and moth in disgust. She smelt her hair quickly, lotus flowers and honey. The same scent she always had. A hint of rose and vanilla maybe from the perfume she had worn earlier.

She smelt good, she knew that could not be the issue. As she walked to sit next to him, she studied him. His fist were tightly woven together. His jaw clenched so tight he might break a tooth.

Sitting down on the edge seat Bella sat next to Cullen boy, Edward. Her teacher , Mr. Molina gave her the books for his class with a smile. Her old instructors rarely smiled. It was a nice change.

The two sister shared a quickly glance as Edward slid the small dish over to them. His nails scratched the desk, creating the most annoying sound. Bella poked her head towards him, his black unsettling eyes caused her to turn away.

His stare never left the two girls. Every few minutes Y/n would look back at him, her eyes hardened to there cores. She would stare back till his eyes faltered. He was unnatural. The way he all buy jumped out of his chair moments before the bell rung.

As he passed her quickly she felt her skin grow warm. Glancing under her jacket lo and behold her hunter marks were glowing softly. She eyes shot towards his retreating frame at an inhuman pace.

Monster. He was a monster. That much was sure. What kind was the issue now. Changeling? Golem? Vampire? Skinwalker? What would a monster be doing in a high school of all places.

Y/n look over at Bella softly. Bella held her hands gently over her beating heart. Y/n felt the rage boiling inside of her sister. Bella’s anger often turned into tears. It never ended well for anyone who made her sister cry.

“Well, he was an asshole.” Y/n uttered offering Bella her hand. Bella smiled faintly and took it.

“I guess he was.” Bella murmured. Y/n giggled softly and nudged Bella’s shoulder.

“Look at you talking smack, looks like all those years of being the horrible little sister have been paying off.” Bella scoffed and pushed her gently.

“As if…. You were never a horrible sister.” Y/n smiled faintly.

…………………………….

Her next class was chemistry with seniors. Although she wanted to stay with Bella, chemistry was a passion of hers. Well

More chemical experiments. The juniors had a course but it wouldn’t have been as fun. As she approached her teacher the older lady smiled almost manically.

“Good morning, I’m Y/n Swan-“

“And you’re my newest student?” Y/n nodded with a smile. Her teacher giggled and patted her shoulder. She wore goggles on her head like a mad scientist. Y/n knew she would like her.

“I went over your transcripts from Northride Academy, very impressed. Your old chemistry teacher had many good things to say.” Y/n let her smirk widen slightly. Most of the transcripts were fake in a sense. Northride Academy was a real school, she did learn there.

It was just not all she learnt. As for her chemistry teacher, it was just Kijani. He too has an interest in the subject.

“I’m surprised you decided to continue your high school education instead of going to collage.”

“I wanted the high school experience, even if it’s just for a few years.” Her teacher nodded softly.

“I’m Ms. Franken.” Y/n let her brows furrow.

“Like Frankenstein?” The older women nodded.

“I’ve got a seat for you at lab four, in the corner over there with the Cullen’s.” Y/n nodded as she walked over. The two Cullens she was to seat with the gorgeous blonde and hefty brunette.

She set her bag to the side and grab her lab safety kit from Ms. Franken. It was just her luck that her teacher had an extra. Unfortunately the coat was a boys coat. It’s was rather large on her, but rolling up her sleeves would fix that issue.

She took the empty spot next to the boy and met the blondes gaze. Her eyes were sharpe and golden. Her scent was cleared now. Roses, she smelt of roses and perhaps some moss. It was a gentle scent, kinder to her nose than Edward’s.

To her side Emmett smelt of the forest and oddly cookie dough. It was a warm smell, something she enjoyed. But when they stood together the collective sterile smell was still present. Simply not as pronounced.

Placing a smile on her face she turned to the pair. She reached her hand out slowly.

“I’m Y/n Swan, I’ll be your new lab partner.” The boy immediately took her hand in his. His hand engulfed her own as he shook it firmly. His hands were ice cold and then he retracted quickly. The glare from Rosalie was promising.

“Emmet Cullen, and this is-“

“Rosalie Hale.” Her voice was perfect too. Y/n nodded with a smile. She was an enchanting creature. She wasn’t human that much was obvious.

She glanced at her arm. Her lab coat had lifted slightly. She could she the mark of Anubis glowing on her wrist. She pulled the coat down with a smile.

More monsters.

“I’m not totally sure what we’re ment to be working on, could you both help me?” Rosalie didn’t answer and went back to her work. Emmett smiled and noddded.

“We’re making colored fires. Simple enough.” Y/n nodded softly as she look at all the equipment at her lab. The burner before her was probably the weakest. It looked a bit worn as she suspected, when lighting the flame it was dull.

Slowly as grab her metal salts from the vials she glanced over at her lab mates. Rosalie had an annoyed look plastered on her face. The statement necklace she wore looked old, 1900’s maybe.

“Your necklace is pretty.” The blonde’s golden eyes snapped up as she pressed her hand to the desk. Y/n breathed in deeply as she focused. The Blaze orders powers were most difficult to control.

The high emotions the high the heat. The tiny wisp of fire grew larger and she pulled her hand away. Kijani had always been specific about using her powers in the human realm.

“Nothing noticeable, unless absolutely necessary.”

She slipped her gloves and glasses on and she flicked her air vent on. Grabbing the strontium chloride and lithium chloride she grab the small spoon.

“Thank you.” Rosalie answered softly. Smirking Y/n dropped her metal salts onto her fire it lit up in red and a crimson pink. The two at her side stared at the strong colorful fire as she caught her teachers gaze. Ms. Franken was smiling at her.

“You’re most welcome.” Y/n added as she looked away. Under her coat she looked at her marks. They all glowed softly in a silver and gold. She had found her first hunt.

…………………………….

Climbing out of her room had been too easy. Y/n had always remembered her house to be much bigger than this. Maybe it was the fact she was small once, maybe it had just been how imposing the house had once looked.

It didn’t matter now, she had already journeyed into the woods. Her footsteps were light as she followed by a stream. Small tadpoles flowed up the small body of water effortlessly.

She smiled to herself as she progressed, it was so simple in this forest. It was peaceful unlike the forests in the hidden realm. No monsters were lurking around in the shadows.

Well, that she wasn’t quite sure just yet. Those Cullen’s were human. Maybe to a real human they just looked like supermodels but to Y/n, she knew better. Nothing human was that perfect.

Humanity was perfect, that’s what made it so beautiful. That’s what humanity worthy of protection. Its imperfections made it real, not perfect but real.

The Cullens were something else internally. As her eyes looked around her she noticed the smallest of movement within the trees. They swayed softly, as if they had a life of their own.

Smiling she lifted her hand to grasp into the warping air above her. Her sword, a black blade with a decorated handle. The metal shined in the moonlight, casting a small glow on the area around her. At its every end was the Eclipse symbols and at its hilt was a star shoot out of the curve of the crescent moon.

Slowly she dragged its tip again the soft mud, making a small circle. She stabbed the sword into the middle with a smile. As the moon moved over the circle she took in a breath. Slowly she reached her hand out.

A grayish sliver admitted from her hands. The circle itself began to glow. Gently symbols materialized in the air and floated around.

“๒ץ Շђє ק๏ฬєг ๏Ŧ Շђ๏Շђ, ɭєՇ ๓є รקєคк ฬเՇђ ๓ครՇєг кเןคภเ.” The glow spread till it formed her masters body. He stood with his back to her, speaking softly with another. The other he spoke to was out of her view, still she smiled anyway.

She had not been gone long but she missed her master. He’d been like another father to her at her time in the academy. When others didn’t believe in her, he always did. Her need for his approval was so great. She needed to make him proud to call her his apprentice.

Cleaning her throat she spoke, “Master Kijani?”

He whipped around, smiling proudly at the small mirror like portal in front of him.

“Your first moon message! I’m so overjoyed you’ve decided to call upon me.” He answered standing straight.

“Is this a bad time? I can call you tomorrow if you’re speaking with another.” She offered, her shoulders relaxed. He shook his head, his locks swaying side to side.

“No child, I was just finishing up.” His comforting gaze left her and went to his side. With a soft nod, whatever figure that was at his side left. She nodded and stepped towards the figure in front of her.

“Who was that?”

“No one, what can I help my prized student with?” He answered.

Her lip curled up slightly. Kijani had always answered every question she’d ever asked. Her brows furrowed, she could remember if he had ever denied her knowledge. Perhaps she’d simply grown spoiled, always being informed.

“I believe I’ve found my first hunt.” She answered with a smile. Kijani’s hazel eyes perked up in interest.

“Truly? Normally it takes new hunters at the very least take a year to find a hunt.” He mumbles knowledgeably. She smiled happily, her nails biting into her skin through her excitement.

“I know! I think I’ve found some kind of changeling, or skinwalker maybe, perhaps a coven of vampires.” She exclaimed. He chuckled softly at her optimism.

“Changelings? Skinwalkers? Vampires? All in Forks, Washington?” He asked with an amused look. She nodded once more.

“I’m not sure yet.”

“We’ll do explain then.” His calm voice grounded her chaotic happiness. Her heart beat skyrocketed as she recounted her thoughts.

“There’s this family here, they’re unnaturally perfect. They smell like a still corpse, sterile and completely unmoving when tougher. They’re cold to the touch, and seem always annoyed with humans.” Kijani nodded at her rambles softly.

“You can get rid of Changelings then, they are always hot to the touch.” She nodded and stand in the moist moss bellow.

“Perhaps they’re vampires then, could you ask Dracula if there are any covens here in Forks?” She asked leaning her head in one elbow. He laughed softly at her words.

“Funny you should mention Dracula, Aerion is currently in Transylvania.” Her h/c brows shot up in surprise.

“Really? Wasn’t her placed in Romania?” She asked. Kijani agreed with her words softly.

“Yes, but Dracula needed aid with Andrei, he’s ill? In a sense.” Worry took over her face. Andrei was sick…? He was the son of Dracula, born of a human mother two hundred years ago.

His father had always been protective of his only son, it made the partnership with the Hunters all the more difficult. Dracula was the only vampire they would never hunt. He aided humanity too much to be rid of.

So by extension they could not hurt his family. Andrei was a friend to her, Dracula was often a rude in kind terms to hunters. However he had an odd softness for Y/n, she didn’t know why. Both vampires seek tame around her.

“What’s wrong with Andrei?” Her voice was laced in concern.

“We don’t know yet, if the situation escalates, I need you in Transylvania.” Kijani answered. She frowned greatly and stood up.

“Send me now! If he needs help, let me!” She snapped. Kijani laughed gently at her emotions.

“I’ve only just sent you home, and you want to come back already.” She scoffed softly as she walked around the glowing circle.

“And you tell em something horrible.” She snipped back. He hummed gently at her as he watched her with gentle eyes.

“You worry too much, Aerion can handle this alone, just as you will handle this hunt alone.” He answered. Alone… she was really alone this time. Kijani couldn’t come to her rescue if something went wrong.

Nothing would go wrong though, she was ready. She’d found her kill, now all that was left was to do it.

Taglist

@svtbpbts, @l-nectarine-l, @mimisweetz

Previous / Next

#twilight x reader #jacob black x reader #jacob black x you #bella swan x reader #edward cullen x reader #jasper hale x reader #alice cullen x reader #rosalie hale x reader #esme cullen x reader #emmett cullen x reader #carlisle cullen x reader #charlie swan x reader #Hunter

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 2 days ago

Text

Sunlit Mornings

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Extreme fluff, playful banter, sweet and clingy hubby Soap Author’s Note: I love my baby boy sm- I’m craving pancakes now- also he’s like a puppy I NEED him Masterlist MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The golden morning light spilled through the curtains, casting warm patterns on the bedroom walls. You stirred gently, slowly becoming aware of the arm draped over your waist and the familiar weight of your husband curled around you.

"Good mornin’, bonnie," John’s voice was a low rumble, still thick with sleep. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his stubble tickling your skin.

"Morning," you mumbled, smiling as his lips brushed a feather-light kiss against your shoulder.

"I missed ye," he murmured, his arms tightening around you.

"You were literally here all night," you teased, turning to face him. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief, his hair adorably tousled.

"Aye, but it’s not the same when yer sleepin’. I like it better when ye talk back," he replied with a cheeky grin.

You laughed softly, brushing a hand through his messy hair. "Clingy much?"

"Always," he said unabashedly, pulling you closer. "Ye’re stuck with me, lass."

Despite his protests, you eventually managed to untangle yourself from his arms to start the day. John trailed after you like a lovesick puppy, leaning against the kitchen counter as you prepared breakfast.

"Ye want some help, love?" he asked, though his idea of "help" usually meant sneaking bites of food when you weren’t looking.

"I’ve got it, but thanks," you said, shooing him away from the bowl of pancake batter.

He pouted dramatically, crossing his arms. "Fine, but only if ye let me taste-test later."

"Deal," you replied, rolling your eyes with a fond smile.

As the pancakes cooked, the kitchen filled with the comforting scent of vanilla and syrup. John’s arms slipped around your waist from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"Ye make it look so easy," he murmured, watching as you flipped a pancake.

"Practice makes perfect," you said, tilting your head to rest against his.

"Nah, it’s just ‘cause it’s you," he said, his voice soft with affection.

Once breakfast was ready, the two of you sat down at the small dining table. John immediately reached over to steal a bite from your plate, earning a playful swat on the hand.

"John!"

"What?" he said innocently, a piece of pancake already halfway to his mouth. "It’s a husband’s right to share."

You shook your head, laughing. "You’re impossible."

"And ye love me for it," he quipped, winking.

The morning passed in a blur of shared laughter and stolen kisses. After breakfast, John insisted on doing the dishes. "Ye cooked; it’s only fair I clean up," he said, flashing you a lopsided grin.

You watched from the doorway as he worked, humming to himself. The domesticity of the moment warmed your heart, and you couldn’t help but smile.

When he noticed you staring, he dried his hands and crossed the room in a few quick strides, pulling you into his arms. "What’re ye lookin’ at, lass?"

"Just my favorite person," you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He smiled, pressing his forehead to yours. "Yer my favorite, too."

The two of you spent the rest of the day curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. John refused to let you go for more than a few seconds, his head resting on your shoulder as you scrolled through the streaming options.

"Pick whatever ye want," he said, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your arm. "As long as I’m with you, I don’t care what we watch."

Eventually, you settled on a movie, but it didn’t take long for John’s attention to drift. He was too busy playing with your hands, pressing kisses to your knuckles, and whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

"Are you even watching this?" you asked, laughing as he nuzzled into your neck.

"Why would I, when I’ve got somethin’ better right here?" he replied, his voice full of adoration.

"John," you murmured, your heart swelling with love.

"I mean it," he said, pulling back to look into your eyes. "Ye’re my everything, love. I don’t know how I got so lucky."

You cupped his face in your hands, your thumb brushing over his cheek. "I love you," you said softly.

His smile was slow and radiant, lighting up his entire face. "I love ye too, lass. More than ye’ll ever know."

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the room, you couldn’t help but think that these quiet, sunlit mornings with John were your favorite. They were a reminder of the simple joys that made life beautiful—a life you were so grateful to share with him.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

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mcrdvcks · 2 days ago

Text

—what is this feeling?

summary: You and Peter have known each other since you were kids—only because you were friends with his distant cousin Olivia. While you have harbored a crush on him for years, you're sure he doesn't feel the same.

word count: 16.2k+ (31.6k+ total)

pairing: Peter Lyman x fem!reader

notes: i watched scoop (2006) for the first time a week-ish ago and i needed to write something with peter. it's kinda canon to the movie—in the sense that it follows a tiny bit of the story, mainly just the parties that were shown.

this was actually a bit hard to write, i kept second guessing myself wondering if i got his character right or not. i hope i did, bc this is a roller coaster. and also, be sure to look at the tags, because when i say toxic peter lyman, i mean it. and please don't ask how this is 32k words, i have no idea how it happened 😅

since it is so long, there are two parts to this since tumblr has a word limit!

warnings/tags: loosely follows event of scoop (2006) but not canon, miscommunication, shy!reader, slow burn, jealousy, angst, mention of murder/death, toxic peter lyman, but also sweet peter lyman (the duality of man), happy ending, not proofread

⁠♡ part 2 ♡

You looked away from the mirror at your friend Olivia, who just got off the phone. “I’m sorry. I can’t go tonight. My boss just called about a work emergency and it’s all hands-on deck.”

“Oh.” You replied, setting down your lipstick, one you thankfully hadn’t applied yet. “Well, I guess I’ll get out of your hair and go back to my pla—”

Olivia gasped, holding you by the shoulders. “What? No, you’re going to that concert.”

Your eyebrows rose and you stuttered, “but—”

She cut you off with a grin, “c’mon, it’ll give you time to bond with Peter.” Olivia drawled.

You felt your cheeks heat up, “I don’t…” You trailed off, looking away from her and focusing on the wall behind her. There was a small blotch of white paint on her tan wall.

“You’ve spent a lot of time with him. Ever since we were kids.”

"Yeah, but he’s your cousin," you interjected, hoping Olivia would drop it.

Olivia rolled her eyes, squeezing your shoulders for emphasis. “Seriously, Y/N, it’s Peter. He’s nice, he likes you, and you’ve been to a million family things with him. What’s the big deal?”

You frowned, shaking her hands off. “It’s different, okay? You’re usually there, or someone else is. I don’t—I just feel awkward when it’s just the two of us.”

She gave you a knowing smirk, leaning against the doorframe. “Awkward, huh? Or are you worried you’ll stutter every time he so much as looks at you?”

“I don’t—” you started to protest, but Olivia laughed.

“You do. You totally do.”

You crossed your arms, cheeks burning. “Can we not do this right now? I’ll just tell him you can’t make it, and we’ll both skip—problem solved.”

Olivia groaned and grabbed her coat. “Nope, not happening. He’s already on his way to pick us up. You’re going. You’re putting on that lipstick. And you’re going to sit through the concert without spontaneously combusting.”

“Liv!” you whined, but she just winked, swinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Have fun!” she chirped, then disappeared out the door before you could come up with a good excuse to chase her down.

---

Peter arrived about fifteen minutes later, sharp as ever in a tailored black coat and that impossibly confident smile. You opened the door, trying not to feel self-conscious under his gaze.

“Y/N,” he greeted warmly. “Ready for the evening?”

“Uh, yeah,” you stammered, stepping aside to let him in. “Liv had a work thing come up, so it’s just, um… us.”

He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise passing over his face before he nodded. “Shame she can’t make it. But I suppose it’ll give us a chance to catch up.”

You managed a small smile, grabbing your coat. “Right. Catch up.”

---

The car ride to the concert hall was quiet, save for Peter’s occasional remarks about the evening’s program. He seemed perfectly at ease, while you stared out the window, hyper-aware of how close you were sitting.

When the car stopped, Peter stepped out first, offering you a hand as you climbed out. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” he asked, gesturing to the grand concert hall.

“A few times,” you replied, trying to sound casual. “It’s always… impressive.”

He smiled. “Wait until you hear tonight’s performance. It’s one of my favorites.”

---

Inside, you settled into your seats—side by side, of course. The lights dimmed, and the orchestra began to tune, the hum of violins filling the air. Peter leaned closer, his voice low.

“Do you know this piece?”

You turned to him, surprised by how close he was. “Not really. Should I?”

He chuckled softly. “I think you’ll like it. Very dramatic.”

You nodded, quickly looking back at the stage, but you could feel his eyes on you for a moment longer before he leaned back into his seat.

---

At intermission, you both stood in the crowded foyer, surrounded by elegant couples sipping champagne. Peter handed you a glass, his expression thoughtful.

“So,” he said, “how are you finding it so far? Be honest.”

“It’s… really beautiful,” you admitted, fidgeting with the stem of your glass. “I don’t usually go to things like this, but it’s nice.”

He studied you for a moment, then smiled. “You’ve always been good at appreciating the little things. It’s one of the things I’ve always liked about you.”

You nearly choked on your sip of champagne, glancing up at him in surprise. “Oh. Um… thank you.”

Peter’s smile widened, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “You don’t need to look so startled, Y/N. It’s just a compliment.”

“Right,” you said quickly, cheeks heating up again. “Of course. Thanks.”

He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to figure you out. “You’re adorable when you’re nervous, you know that?”

“I—what?” you stammered, but before you could finish, the bell chimed, signaling the end of intermission.

Peter offered his arm, his tone light but teasing. “Shall we?”

You hesitated for a moment, then looped your arm through his, your heart pounding as you followed him back to your seats.

---

Once the concert was over, Peter led you out of the concert hall, his hand resting lightly at the small of your back. The crowd thinned as the night air hit your face, crisp and cool compared to the warmth inside. His car waited at the curb, sleek and polished, and he opened the door for you without hesitation.

“Still enjoying yourself?” he asked once you were both seated, his tone light.

“Yes,” you replied, glancing at him. “It was… really amazing. Thank you for inviting me.”

He gave a small, thoughtful smile, his hands resting loosely on the steering wheel. “I’m glad you came. I was afraid I’d be sitting through it alone tonight.”

The comment was harmless, but you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering—was that why he hadn’t seemed to mind Olivia’s absence? You pushed the thought aside, unsure what to say, and instead watched the city lights blur through the window.

---

When the car pulled up in front of your apartment building, Peter stepped out quickly, coming around to open your door. You murmured a quiet “thank you” as you stepped out, feeling the weight of his presence beside you. He walked you to the building’s entrance, his movements effortlessly graceful as always.

“You didn’t have to walk me up,” you said softly, fumbling with your keys.

Peter raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his expression. “It’s the gentlemanly thing to do, isn’t it?”

You smiled faintly, unlocking the door and stepping inside with him close behind. The elevator ride was silent, though you caught him glancing at you once or twice. Your heart felt like it was lodged in your throat by the time you reached your floor.

When you reached your apartment door, you turned to face him, unsure how to say goodnight without sounding awkward. Peter beat you to it.

“Tonight was lovely,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “You were good company.”

“Thanks,” you said, heat rushing to your face. “You too.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Peter’s expression softened, his tone casual but warm. “You don’t have to feel obligated to say yes every time Olivia drags you along, you know. I’d hate to think you’re going to these things just because you feel like you should.”

Your chest tightened. Was he saying he thought you didn’t want to be here? That you’d only come because Olivia wasn’t around to take your place? You forced a polite smile, ignoring the strange twist in your stomach.

“I don’t mind,” you said lightly, hoping it sounded convincing. “It’s always nice to catch up.”

Peter smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Good. Then… goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you replied softly, watching as he turned and walked back toward the elevator. You stood there for a moment, listening to the faint hum of the elevator descending before you finally stepped inside your apartment and leaned against the door.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, your thoughts spinning. Did you just get friendzoned? You shook your head, groaning under your breath. “Don’t overthink it,” you muttered to yourself, but the knot in your chest didn’t budge.

---

The next morning, Olivia burst into your apartment, barely waiting for you to open the door. “Well? How was it?” she asked, her grin wide as she plopped onto your couch.

You blinked, still holding your mug of coffee. “Uh, it was fine.”

“Fine?” she repeated, narrowing her eyes. “You went to the Philharmonic with Peter Lyman, and all you’ve got for me is ‘fine’? No way. Spill.”

You sighed, setting your mug on the table and sitting down across from her. “It was fine. He was polite, as always, and we had a nice time. But…” You hesitated, staring at your hands.

“But?” Olivia prompted, leaning forward eagerly.

“I think he sees me as, like, your friend who tags along to family stuff. He made some comment about not feeling obligated to go to these things, like I only went because you couldn’t.”

Olivia frowned. “What? That doesn’t sound like Peter.”

“Maybe not, but that’s how it came across,” you said, shrugging. “It’s fine. I didn’t expect anything else.”

She tilted her head, studying you. “You’re not seriously going to let one weird comment freak you out, are you?”

“I’m not freaking out,” you replied quickly, though the heat in your face said otherwise. “I just… I don’t want to make things awkward.”

“Y/N,” Olivia said, crossing her arms. “Peter’s not an idiot. If he said that, he probably didn’t mean it the way you’re taking it.”

You shook your head. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“Thanks,” you muttered, but she just laughed.

“Don’t worry,” she said, standing up. “If I know Peter, he’ll figure it out eventually.” She paused, giving you a sly grin. “In the meantime, maybe try not to overthink it.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands as she left the room.

---

A week later, you and Olivia had a movie night at your place, and old romcom she loved in the DVD player.

You had your legs tucked under you, barely focusing on the movie before gaining enough courage to face her. “Liv? Do you think… well—you, I got…”

She took her gaze away from the TV. “Hmm. Could be anything that’s got you stuttering like that.” She grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze. “Okay. Spill.”

You took a deep breath, blurting out, “Joshua asked me on a date.”

Olivia sat up straighter, grabbing the remote and pausing the movie. “Joshua? Like Lord Beckett’s youngest son? That Joshua?”

You squirmed under her gaze. “Yeah. Apparently, he works as a journalist. He came over to the firm and was interviewing my boss.”

Olivia blinked, then leaned back with an exaggerated laugh. “Oh my God, that’s rich. Joshua Beckett, out of nowhere, asking you out?” She shook her head in disbelief. “How’d he even swing that?”

You frowned. “I mean, he was… nice? Polite? We just talked for a bit after his meeting, and then—bam—he asked.”

Olivia smirked. “Did you say yes?”

“Well, yeah. I didn’t want to be rude,” you admitted, your voice shrinking.

She threw a pillow at you. “What the hell, Y/N? This isn’t ‘polite conversation’ territory—it’s a date! You can’t just agree because you don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings.”

“I didn’t know how to say no!” you shot back, clutching the pillow to your chest. “He caught me off guard. And honestly, he seemed… fine?”

“Fine,” Olivia deadpanned. “High praise, as always.”

You sighed. “Look, it’s just one dinner. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Olivia squinted at you like she didn’t buy it for a second. “Right. And this has nothing to do with Peter, huh?”

Your stomach flipped, and you quickly avoided her gaze. “This has nothing to do with Peter.”

“Uh-huh,” Olivia said knowingly. “So, when’s this casual, meaningless dinner happening?”

“Friday,” you mumbled.

“Friday,” she repeated with a hum, then grinned slyly. “Guess who’s getting a phone call.”

You looked at her in alarm. “No! You’re not calling Peter!”

“Oh, I’m not?” she teased, already reaching for her phone.

“Liv, I swear—”

“Relax, I’m kidding!” she said with a laugh, setting her phone aside. “But seriously, Y/N… Joshua? You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

You groaned, flopping back against the couch. “I don’t know, okay? I panicked. It’s not like Peter’s lining up to ask me out, anyway.”

Olivia’s smirk softened into something more thoughtful. “Peter’s… complicated,” she said after a moment. “But you know he cares about you, right? I mean, he wouldn’t—”

You cut her off, shaking your head. “Let’s not do this. I can’t think about Peter and… whatever this is. Not when I’m already overthinking everything else.”

Olivia hesitated but eventually nodded. “Fine. But for the record, I don’t think you’re overthinking. I think you’re underthinking Peter.”

You groaned again, burying your face in the pillow. “Can we just finish the movie?”

“Sure,” she said, grabbing the remote. But as she pressed play, she muttered under her breath, “You’re totally underthinking it.”

---

Peter glanced at Olivia, who was reclining with a magazine in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, her legs crossed lazily. The faint echoes of splashing water and the quiet hum of conversation filled the air around the indoor pool.

“Perhaps you’d like to come to the garden party Father is throwing on Sunday,” Peter said, his voice casual as he stretched his arms.

Olivia glanced up briefly. “Sure, sounds nice. Is it the usual crowd?”

Peter nodded, stepping to the edge of the pool. “More or less. Family, some of Father’s associates. Nothing too overwhelming.” He paused, his tone shifting just slightly. “Will Y/N be coming?”

Olivia raised an eyebrow, setting down her tea. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ll ask her after her date tonight.”

Peter froze, mid-step, before lowering himself to sit at the pool’s edge. “Date?” His voice was calm, but the word lingered in the air.

“Yeah, with Joshua Beckett,” Olivia said nonchalantly, flipping a page in her magazine. “You know, Lord Beckett’s youngest. He ran into her at work and asked her out. She said yes.”

Peter’s expression didn’t falter, though his fingers tapped lightly against his knee. “Joshua Beckett,” he repeated, as though testing the name on his tongue.

“Mhm,” Olivia said, still focused on her magazine. “Journalist. Apparently, he’s charming. She didn’t seem overly excited, though.”

“Hmm.” Peter slipped into the pool gracefully, the water rippling around him. “Well, good for her. I hope it goes well.”

Olivia glanced at him over the edge of her magazine, a smirk tugging at her lips. “You sound thrilled.”

Peter’s lips twitched in a polite smile, though he avoided her gaze. “Just being supportive.”

Olivia snorted, setting her magazine aside and standing up. “Right. Well, I’m off to the spa. I need a massage after this long week. Don’t drown or anything.”

Peter waved a hand as he began a slow backstroke. “Enjoy your massage.”

“Thanks,” Olivia said breezily, heading for the door. “Oh, and I’ll let you know if Y/N decides to come on Sunday.”

Peter didn’t reply, his focus seemingly on the water, though his strokes became a little sharper, his movements a touch less fluid. When Olivia was gone, he exhaled slowly, staring up at the high ceiling.

“Joshua Beckett,” he muttered to himself, his voice low and contemplative, before diving underwater.

---

You and Olivia walked through the hedges into the garden area, where small tables were set up and people already mingling.

“Do you think they have those finger sandwiches I like?” you asked Olivia, scanning the tables set up around the garden. Your voice was quieter than usual, the low hum of polite chatter filling the air.

“I’m sure they do,” Olivia replied, smirking. “I mean, Peter’s father wouldn’t dare host a garden party without catering to your very specific sandwich preferences, right?”

You rolled your eyes, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “You’re hilarious.”

“Always,” she said, giving you a quick pat on the shoulder before her eyes drifted to the side. “Oh, speaking of Peter—there he is. He looks like he’s on host duty already.”

Before you could turn, Olivia raised a hand, waving him over.

Peter approached with his usual effortless confidence, a light smile on his face. His suit was perfectly tailored—charcoal gray, understated but sharp—and he moved with the ease of someone who had never once felt out of place in a crowd.

“Olivia,” he greeted warmly. “Y/N.” His gaze flicked to you, lingering just a second longer than necessary. “Glad you could both make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Olivia said, grinning. “I already saw the sandwiches, by the way. You’ve kept Y/N’s favorites. Excellent hosting.”

Peter chuckled softly. “Of course. Wouldn’t dream of disappointing.” He shifted slightly, his eyes scanning the immediate area. “Where’s she gone?”

Olivia blinked and glanced beside her, only to realize you were no longer there. “Wait, what? She was just—”

Peter raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Impressive. That might be the quickest escape yet.”

“She does that sometimes,” Olivia said, sighing dramatically. “It’s like she’s made of smoke or something. Well, I’m sure she hasn’t gone far. I’ll catch up with her in a bit.”

Peter gave a polite nod, though his gaze was already moving past her, scanning the clusters of guests. “No need. I’ll find her.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and disappeared into the garden’s maze of tables and guests.

---

You were standing by one of the smaller tables, a tiny plate in hand, already nibbling on a finger sandwich. You’d ducked out as soon as Peter walked over—not because you didn’t want to talk to him, but because it was always a little overwhelming when he was around. Somehow, he managed to be both incredibly easy to talk to and completely impossible to read at the same time.

The garden was peaceful, at least. You focused on the sounds of the birds and the clinking glasses, taking a moment to settle your nerves.

“Enjoying yourself?”

You jumped slightly at the sound of Peter’s voice, almost dropping your plate. He stood just a few steps away, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

“I—uh—yes,” you stammered, quickly wiping your mouth with a napkin. “I was just…” You gestured vaguely to the table of food.

“Finding the sandwiches, I see,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah,” you admitted, glancing down at the one in your hand. “They’re really good.”

“I’m glad,” Peter replied, stepping closer. “I’ll have to thank the caterer for getting them just right. Though, knowing you, you probably would’ve just been polite if they weren’t.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his observation. “Well, I mean… it’s not like I’d complain.”

He chuckled, his gaze steady on you. “No, you wouldn’t. But I’m glad they’re up to your standards.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind that felt heavy despite the lightness of the conversation. You fidgeted slightly, unsure what to say, until Peter spoke again.

“Did you enjoy your date?”

Your eyes snapped up to meet his, startled. “What?”

Peter stood much closer than before, his expression casual, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity. “Your date,” he said smoothly, as if it were the most natural topic in the world. “With Joshua Beckett. Olivia mentioned it.”

You ducked your head, suddenly finding your plate very interesting. “Oh, right. That. It was fine.”

“Fine,” Peter repeated, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Such high praise.”

You looked up, narrowing your eyes slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He tilted his head slightly, his tone light. “Nothing at all. Just… ‘fine’ doesn’t exactly scream thrilling success.”

“Well, it wasn’t a disaster,” you said defensively, clutching your plate tighter. “He was nice.”

“Nice,” Peter echoed, his tone amused. “That’s the second glowing endorsement.”

“Peter,” you sighed, finally meeting his gaze. “What are you getting at?”

He paused, studying you for a moment before responding. “I’m just curious. You don’t usually go out with people like Joshua.”

Your brow furrowed. “People like Joshua? What does that even mean?”

“Well,” he began, his voice as smooth as ever, “he’s the youngest son of a very ambitious family. Polished, charming, likely quite used to getting what he wants.”

“So… people like you,” you countered without thinking, then froze, immediately regretting it. “I mean—uh, not that you—just that—”

Peter laughed softly, the sound low and rich. “Touché.”

You pressed your lips together, looking down at your sandwich. “For the record, he didn’t get what he wanted.”

His brows lifted in mild surprise. “Oh?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “I told him I wasn’t interested in a second date.”

There was a pause, and when you glanced up, Peter’s expression was unreadable. “I see.”

Before you could decipher his tone, he straightened, glancing past you. “Excuse me a moment,” Peter said, his tone as smooth as ever. He stepped around you, heading toward the two new people with an effortless grace.

You turned, following his line of sight. A young woman with straight blonde hair and wiry glasses stood by the tables with an older man wearing a copper blazer.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his attention. Before you could process it, Olivia appeared at your side, holding a glass of sparkling water.

“Who’s he off to save now?” she asked, smirking as she handed you the glass.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, nodding toward the two strangers. “They just walked in, and he left to meet them.”

Olivia squinted in their direction, taking a sip of her drink. “Hmm. They don’t look like the usual crowd. Maybe business?”

“Could be,” you murmured, watching as Peter shook hands with the older man before gesturing toward the house.

“Should we ask?” Olivia teased, nudging your arm.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s probably something private. Let’s just stay out of it.”

Olivia grinned knowingly. “Right, because that’s exactly what we’re doing by standing here and staring.”

You sighed, looking away from the scene. “I’m just curious, okay? It’s not like I’m going to eavesdrop.”

“Sure,” Olivia said, clearly unconvinced.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Peter lead the two guests toward the house. His hand rested lightly on the small of the blonde woman’s back as they disappeared into the crowd. You tried not to let it bother you, but Olivia didn’t miss the way your grip on your glass tightened.

“Who’s jealous now?” she muttered under her breath.

“I’m not jealous,” you replied quickly, though your tone betrayed you.

“Uh-huh,” Olivia said, smirking. “Well, if you’re not going to ask, I will.”

Before you could stop her, she turned and started following the trio.

“Olivia, wait—” you called after her, but she waved a hand dismissively over her shoulder.

---

A few minutes later, Olivia reappeared, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. She found you lingering near the garden’s edge, nervously sipping your drink.

“So, I have news,” she announced, leaning against a tree.

“Olivia,” you groaned. “What did you do?”

“Relax,” Olivia said with a grin, casually tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I just asked Peter who they were. Turns out, the blonde is Jade Spence—some aspiring actress from Palm Beach—and her father, Mr. Spence. They’re staying with the Fultons.”

You blinked, trying not to let your curiosity show too much. “The Fultons? As in… the Fultons?”

Olivia nodded, her smirk growing. “Yup. And Peter’s apparently been playing tour guide or something. He mentioned meeting her a few days ago.”

You frowned slightly, glancing toward the house where Peter had disappeared with Jade and Mr. Spence. “Tour guide?”

Olivia shrugged, swirling the water in her glass. “Or lifeguard, maybe. He said something about saving her from drowning in the pool.”

Your head whipped around. “What?”

“I know, right? So dramatic,” Olivia said with a laugh. “Apparently, it was this whole thing. She was swimming alone, started panicking, and Peter swooped in like the hero he is.”

You looked down, fiddling with the edge of your plate. “Well, that’s… nice of him.”

“Uh-huh,” Olivia said, giving you a pointed look. “And now he’s escorting her around garden parties. Very hands-on for a guy who’s usually so… you know. Detached.”

Your stomach churned uncomfortably, but you forced a nonchalant tone. “Maybe he’s just being polite. She’s staying with the Fultons, after all.”

“Polite?” Olivia echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Y/N, Peter doesn’t do polite for strangers. He’s always charming, but this is different. He’s… interested.”

You felt your chest tighten, but you quickly shook your head. “It’s probably nothing. She’s just visiting, and he’s being a good host.”

Olivia studied you for a moment, her smirk fading. “You know, you’re allowed to be annoyed.”

“I’m not annoyed,” you said quickly, but your voice wavered just enough for Olivia to catch it.

“Right,” she said, crossing her arms. “Because you’re totally fine with Peter playing Prince Charming for a random blonde from Florida.”

You frowned. “What do you want me to say, Olivia? It’s not like Peter and I—” You cut yourself off, your cheeks burning.

Olivia leaned in, her voice low but teasing. “Not like you what? C’mon, Y/N, finish that sentence.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Forget it.”

“Nope, not forgetting it,” Olivia said, pulling your hands away. “Listen, I’m not saying you need to storm the house and stake a claim or whatever. But if Peter’s trying to make you jealous, it’s working.”

You blinked at her. “You think he’s doing this on purpose?”

"Could be. I mean, Peter’s smart. He knows what he’s doing," Olivia said with a shrug, her eyes glinting mischievously.

You snorted, shaking your head. "That’s ridiculous. Why would he try to make me jealous? He doesn’t even like me like that."

Olivia tilted her head, giving you an exasperated look. "You seriously believe that?"

"Yes," you said firmly, though your voice wavered slightly. "Peter’s always been polite, maybe a little flirty, but that’s just how he is with everyone. He doesn’t—" You stopped yourself, suddenly self-conscious.

"He doesn’t what?" Olivia pressed, leaning closer with that knowing smirk.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "He doesn’t see me that way, okay? I’m just… his cousin’s friend. The tagalong at family stuff. That’s it."

Olivia’s smirk dropped, replaced by something softer. "Y/N, you’re seriously blind if you don’t think he’s at least interested."

You bit your lip, fidgeting with your drink. "It doesn’t matter. Even if he were—which he’s not—he’s clearly more interested in Jade right now."

Olivia snorted. "Jade Spence? Are you kidding? That’s just Peter being Peter. I bet he swooped in to ‘save’ her and now feels obligated to play the perfect host."

"Or maybe he actually likes her," you muttered, barely audible.

Olivia stared at you for a beat before sighing dramatically. "You’re exhausting, you know that? The guy practically lights up every time you’re in the room, and you’re over here acting like he’s planning a wedding with some random actress from Florida."

You opened your mouth to respond, but Olivia cut you off, pointing her finger at you. "Nope. Don’t even argue. If you’re too stubborn to see it, fine. But mark my words, Y/N—he’s not into Jade. He’s into you."

"That’s insane," you said quickly, brushing past her toward the refreshments table. "You’re reading way too much into this."

"Am I?" Olivia called after you, clearly enjoying herself. "Guess we’ll see."

---

Later that day when you got back to your apartment, you walked over to the rotary phone and dialed the number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Joshua. I know I said I wasn’t interested in a second date, but—well, if you were, not that you have to…”

You cringed, gripping the phone cord tightly as silence filled the line. Then, Joshua’s warm voice came through, as composed as ever.

“Y/N, hi. I wasn’t expecting this, but… I’d love to. If you’re sure?”

You glanced at the clock on the wall, your stomach twisting with nerves. “Yeah, I mean… I thought maybe I judged too quickly last time. You’re really nice, and it wasn’t fair to just—”

“Don’t overthink it,” Joshua interrupted gently. “How about Friday? Dinner at that Italian place by the park?”

“Sure,” you replied quickly, your voice higher-pitched than usual. “Friday sounds good.”

“Great,” he said, his tone genuinely warm. “I’ll call to confirm. I’m glad you changed your mind, Y/N.”

You hung up, staring at the phone for a moment before groaning. “What am I doing?”

---

By the time Friday rolled around, Olivia had found out about the second date, of course.

“I can’t believe you called him,” she said, draped across your bed as you picked through your closet. “It’s like you’re trying to drive yourself crazy.”

“I didn’t call him to drive myself crazy,” you shot back, holding up a simple black dress. “I called because—”

“Because you were spiraling after seeing Peter with Jade Spence,” Olivia finished smugly.

You turned toward her with a glare. “That’s not why.”

“Right,” she said, sitting up and smirking. “So why is it, then?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Maybe I just don’t want to waste a chance with someone who’s nice to me.”

Olivia snorted. “Nice? Joshua Beckett is nice? That’s the bar now?”

You sighed, tossing the dress on the bed. “He’s not just nice. He’s smart, and he listens, and—”

“And he’s not Peter,” Olivia interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

“Liv,” you groaned.

“Okay, okay,” she said, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “Wear the black dress. He’ll like it. Or whatever.”

---

While you went on your date with Joshua, Olivia went to the party Peter was hosting at his place. When she entered, Peter looked at the door and grabbed two glasses of champagne. “Ah, Olivia.” They kissed each other’s cheeks as a greeting. The door closed behind her causing Peter to glance over at the now shut door. “Where is Y/N? She’s not sick again, is she?”

Olivia shrugged off her coat handing it to the waiter with a thanks. “Oh, no. She’s on a date with Joshua.” She grabbed both glasses from Peter’s hands, one clearly meant for you.

Peter’s expression didn’t change immediately, but his fingers tightened into a momentary fist. “Joshua,” he said slowly, his tone neutral. “I see.”

Olivia sipped from one of the glasses she’d swiped, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Yup. Second date. She called him, actually. Kind of a bold move for Y/N, don’t you think?”

“Very bold,” Peter replied, his voice calm but clipped. “I thought she wasn’t interested.”

Olivia shrugged, her lips curling into a sly smile. “She changed her mind. Or maybe someone made her change her mind.”

Peter’s gaze flicked toward her, sharp as glass. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” Olivia said innocently, taking another sip. “Just that she seemed a little… distracted after your garden party. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Of course not,” Peter said smoothly, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “I didn’t realize I had such influence over her decision-making.”

Olivia tilted her head, studying him. “You know, for someone who’s supposedly indifferent, you seem awfully interested in her dating life.”

Peter’s jaw tightened imperceptibly. “She’s your friend. Naturally, I’m curious.”

“Right,” Olivia drawled, clearly enjoying herself. “Well, if you’re so curious, maybe you should ask her about it. Or better yet, tell her why it bothers you so much.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Peter said, his tone cool. “She’s free to make her own choices.”

“Uh-huh,” Olivia replied, giving him a knowing look. “So, you’re totally fine with her going out with a guy like Joshua Beckett? Polished, ambitious, very… not you?”

Peter’s lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. “What an interesting way to phrase it.”

“Just calling it like I see it,” Olivia said lightly. She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “You know, Peter, you could just admit you like her. Might save everyone a lot of time.”

Peter didn’t answer immediately, his gaze drifting toward the door. “I think I’ll fetch another drink,” he said finally. “Excuse me.”

“Running away?” Olivia teased, but Peter was already walking off, his steps measured and deliberate.

---

“He was actually quite nice. And he likes math and sci-fi movies,” you said, plopping down onto Olivia’s couch.

Olivia leaned against the armrest, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Math and sci-fi movies? Be still my heart. Did he also show you his extensive collection of pocket protectors?”

You frowned, tossing a throw pillow at her. “I’m serious! He’s smart, and… I don’t know, easy to talk to.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, dodging the pillow effortlessly. “And yet, here you are, talking to me about him like he’s your neighbor’s golden retriever. You’re trying too hard to sell it, Y/N.”

“I’m not trying to sell anything,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “It was a nice date. That’s it.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “Did you agree to another one?”

You hesitated, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “He asked. I said I’d think about it.”

“There it is,” Olivia said, sitting up straight. “You’re not even sure, are you?”

“It’s not like that,” you protested weakly.

“It’s exactly like that,” she shot back. “You’re trying to convince yourself he’s interesting because—oh, let me guess—Peter has you in knots.”

You sighed heavily, rubbing your temples. “Why does everything always come back to Peter with you?”

“Because you get weird whenever he’s involved!” Olivia said, throwing her hands up. “Seriously, you were fine until Jade Spence showed up with her Barbie vibes, and now you’re spiraling.”

“I am not spiraling,” you said firmly.

“Oh, please,” Olivia scoffed. “You practically ran to Joshua the second you saw Peter being nice to her. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

You glared at her. “Maybe I just wanted to see if there was something there with Joshua.”

“And?” she challenged.

You hesitated, biting your lip. “…And I don’t know.”

Olivia sighed, leaning back into the couch cushions. “Y/N, listen to me. You can go on a hundred dates with guys like Joshua, but it’s not going to change how you feel about Peter.”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t even try,” she interrupted, holding up a hand. “You do. And it’s painfully obvious to anyone with eyes. So, instead of wasting your time on Mr. Math Enthusiast, maybe you should figure out what’s actually going on with Peter.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the sound of the doorbell ringing cut you off. You looked at Olivia who looked at you.

“What are you doing? Go answer it.” Olivia said.

“What—but this is your apartment!” You argued.

Olivia pushed your side, “go on!”

You stood up and made it past her before turning around. “Peter’s not at the door is he?” She shrugged, not responding. “Olivia! You—”

The doorbell rang again, pulling you out of your thoughts. Olivia waved her hand toward the door, not bothering to look away from the TV. “Go already! It’s not going to answer itself.”

Muttering under your breath, you shuffled toward the door, half-wondering why Olivia wasn’t doing this herself. You swung it open, and there he was—standing impeccably dressed in a casual button-up and dark slacks, as if he’d stepped straight out of a magazine.

“Peter?” you blurted, gripping the doorknob a little tighter than necessary. “What are you doing here?”

He offered you a polite smile, holding up a small clutch. “Olivia left this behind at the party. I thought I’d return it before it got lost in the shuffle.”

You blinked, glancing at the bag in his hand. “Oh. Right. Well, thanks for bringing it by.”

“Of course.” His voice was smooth as always, but his eyes flicked past you into the apartment. “Is Olivia in?”

“Yeah, she’s—”

“Watching TV!” Olivia called from the couch. “Bring it here, Peter. And while you’re at it, grab me a soda, would you?”

You shot her a glare over your shoulder, but Peter chuckled softly. “Should I let myself in, or…?”

“Oh, come in,” Olivia said loudly. “Y/N doesn’t bite.”

Peter stepped past you with an easy smile, and you resisted the urge to retreat to the kitchen. Instead, you followed him into the living room, your stomach doing a weird little flip as he handed Olivia the clutch.

“Your soda,” he said with a smirk, “you’ll have to get yourself.”

“Ugh, useless,” Olivia teased, but she took the bag with a grin. “Thanks, though. I’d have never remembered it.”

Peter turned back to you, his expression unreadable. “So, Y/N. How was dinner with Joshua?”

Your cheeks burned immediately. “Oh, um, it was… fine.”

“Fine,” he repeated, the faintest hint of amusement in his tone. “You use that word a lot.”

“Well, it’s a good word,” you muttered, crossing your arms.

Peter didn’t look away, his gaze steady. “I take it things went well, then?”

Before you could answer, Olivia snorted. “She’s not seeing him again, if that’s what you’re fishing for.”

“Olivia!” you hissed, glaring at her.

“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “I’m just saving time.”

Peter’s brow lifted slightly, though his expression remained calm. “Not seeing him again?” he asked, directing the question to you. “That’s surprising. He seemed like a… suitable match.”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Peter tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Only that he seemed like someone who’d check all the right boxes.”

“Well, maybe I’m not interested in someone who just checks boxes,” you said before you could stop yourself.

Peter’s smile deepened, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Interesting.”

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken things, until Olivia cleared her throat dramatically. “Well, this is fun, but if no one’s grabbing me a soda, I’ll do it myself.”

She hopped off the couch, leaving you alone with Peter. You shifted awkwardly, clutching your arms. “So… thanks for bringing her bag by.”

“It was no trouble,” Peter said, his voice gentler now. “I could’ve had it sent over, but I thought it’d be nice to see you both.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Right. Well… it’s good to see you too.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping just slightly. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

Your eyes widened. “What? I haven’t—”

“You disappeared at the garden party,” he interrupted, his tone calm but firm. “And you weren’t at my party yesterday.”

You looked down, heat creeping up your neck. “I wasn’t avoiding you. I just… had other things going on.”

“Like Joshua?” he asked, his voice sharp enough to make you flinch.

You glanced up, meeting his gaze. “Why does it matter?”

He held your gaze, his expression softening. “Maybe it doesn’t.”

The sound of the fridge door slamming broke the moment, and Olivia reappeared with a soda in hand. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” you said quickly, stepping back. “Peter was just leaving.”

Peter’s lips twitched into a small smile, but he didn’t argue. “I should be going. Thank you, Olivia.”

“Anytime,” she replied, smirking. “Bye, Peter.”

He turned to you one last time, his eyes lingering for a moment. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you whispered, watching as he left.

Once the door shut, Olivia let out a low whistle. “Well, that was something.”

“Don’t,” you warned, already heading for the kitchen.

“I didn’t say anything!” Olivia called after you, her voice full of laughter. “But seriously, Y/N, you might want to think about what you’re doing.”

You groaned, opening the fridge. “What I’m doing is making tea.”

“Sure,” Olivia said lightly. “Because tea will totally solve your Peter problem.”

You slammed the fridge door shut, wishing it were that simple.

---

Joshua invited you over to a philharmonic concert. He had brought it up while he had taken you out for lunch during your break.

You accepted and now were walking through the elegant, familiar foyer of the concert hall, arm in arm with Joshua. The polished marble floors reflected the soft glow of the chandeliers, and the hum of polite conversation filled the air.

Joshua glanced at you, his smile easy. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you? You seem comfortable.”

“Once or twice,” you replied, trying not to think about the last time. With Peter.

“Ah, of course,” Joshua said lightly. “It’s one of my favorite venues. The acoustics are exceptional.”

As he spoke, your eyes caught a familiar figure just across the room. Peter. He was standing near the staircase, chatting with Jade Spence, who laughed at something he said, her hand briefly touching his arm.

You stiffened, and Joshua followed your gaze. His brow lifted slightly. “Peter Lyman. What a surprise. Didn’t expect to see him here tonight.”

Your voice was tight. “He enjoys the Philharmonic.”

Joshua chuckled softly. “Don’t we all? Come on, let’s say hello.”

“Wait—” you started, but Joshua was already steering you toward them.

Peter noticed you first. His eyes flickered from Joshua to you, his expression unreadable, though there was a subtle shift in his posture. Jade turned as well, her bright smile widening when she saw Joshua.

“Joshua Beckett,” Peter greeted smoothly, his voice carrying that effortless charm. “Good to see you.”

“Peter,” Joshua replied, shaking his hand. “And Jade Spence, of course. I heard you were in town.”

Jade’s laugh was nervous. “Uh—yes, with my father.” Her gaze shifted to you, her smile polite but curious. “And you are?”

“Y/N,” you said softly, glancing at Peter briefly. His gaze was steady, focused, and unsettlingly intense.

“Ah, yes,” Jade said, her tone light. “I think Peter mentioned you.”

Your stomach flipped at that, but Joshua cut in before you could dwell on it. “Y/N is a dear friend. We’re enjoying the evening together.”

Peter’s jaw tightened, though his smile didn’t falter. “How lovely. I’m sure you’ll both enjoy the program tonight. It’s one of my favorites.”

“You’ve got great taste, as always,” Joshua replied smoothly, before glancing at his watch. “We should find our seats, Y/N. Don’t want to miss the overture.”

“Of course,” you said quickly, eager to leave the tension hanging in the air.

“Enjoy the performance,” Peter said, his eyes lingering on you as Joshua led you away. You didn’t dare look back.

---

Your seats were directly in front of Peter and Jade. As the orchestra began, you focused on the stage, but you could feel Peter’s gaze like a weight on your back. Joshua leaned closer to point out something about the composer, his voice low and warm, but you barely heard him.

Peter, meanwhile, wasn’t paying attention to the orchestra at all. His eyes never left you, the flicker of a frown crossing his face whenever Joshua leaned in or made you smile.

Jade noticed. She shifted slightly in her seat, her voice a soft whisper. “Peter, you’re not even looking at the stage.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still locked on you. Finally, he leaned back, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Just admiring the company,” he said smoothly.

Jade glanced at you and Joshua, then back at Peter. Her brow arched, but she said nothing, returning her attention to the performance.

---

At intermission, you stayed in your seat, flipping through the concert program and trying to focus on the upcoming pieces. Joshua had gone to grab drinks, leaving you alone in the steadily emptying hall. The chatter of other patrons filled the space, but you tuned it out.

The soft creak of the seat next to you folding down made you glance up. Peter.

He sat with effortless ease, one leg crossed over the other, his hands resting on the arms of the chair. “You always were the studious type, weren’t you?” His voice was smooth, teasing but gentle.

You blinked, glancing between him and the program in your hands. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s intermission,” he replied simply, his gaze steady. “Thought I’d say hello. Is that a problem?”

“No,” you said quickly, shifting slightly in your seat. “It’s just… unexpected.”

Peter smirked faintly. “I’ve been told I’m full of surprises.” He leaned back slightly, his tone casual. “You know, this concert reminds me of when Olivia insisted you both take violin lessons. What were you—ten? Eleven?”

You stared at him, caught off guard by the memory. “I was ten. Olivia was eleven.”

He nodded, his smile growing. “Right. And she quit after one session, didn’t she? Said something about the teacher being ‘a tyrant in a cardigan.’”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “She hated it. And she convinced her parents it was pointless for both of us to continue, even though I wanted to keep going.”

Peter’s eyes softened. “I remember. You were disappointed for weeks.”

You glanced down at the program, your voice quieter now. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

“I noticed,” Peter said, his tone gentler. “You have this way of hiding how you feel, but it’s always there if you know where to look.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could respond, Peter glanced toward the aisle. “Here comes your date.”

You followed his gaze and spotted Joshua making his way back, carrying two glasses of wine. Peter stood smoothly, his polite smile firmly back in place.

“Enjoy the rest of the concert,” he said, his tone light as he stepped aside to let Joshua pass.

Joshua handed you one of the glasses, glancing at Peter as he moved back toward his own seat. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, taking a sip of your wine. “He was just saying hello.”

Joshua nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “You and Peter are close, aren’t you?”

You hesitated. “I guess. We’ve known each other a long time.”

“Hmm,” Joshua murmured, his gaze flicking briefly toward Peter and Jade, who were chatting again near the back of the hall. “He seems… invested.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, your voice defensive.

Joshua shrugged, a faint smile on his lips. “Just an observation.”

The bell chimed, signaling the end of intermission. You followed Joshua back to your seats, settling in as the lights dimmed.

As the orchestra began, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. You didn’t dare glance back, but you could feel Peter’s gaze like a tangible weight.

Joshua leaned closer, pointing out something in the performance. You nodded along, but your focus was elsewhere.

Behind you, Peter sat beside Jade, his expression unreadable as his eyes lingered on you. Jade noticed, her voice barely a whisper. “Peter, you’re missing the performance.”

“I’m not,” he murmured, though his gaze remained fixed on you.

Jade sighed softly but didn’t press further, turning her attention back to the stage.

You, meanwhile, tried to ignore the tension coiling in your chest, the strange awareness that had followed you since intermission.

The music swelled, filling the hall, but all you could think about was the man sitting just a few rows behind you.

---

“He what?” Olivia shrieked. “Oh, man. He’s relentless.”

“What do you mean ‘relentless?’” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against Olivia’s kitchen counter. “He’s the one who’s dating Jade in the first place.”

Olivia froze mid-sip of her tea, her eyebrows shooting up. Slowly, she set the mug down and turned to face you fully, her lips curling into a sly grin. “Ohhh, so now you admit it.”

“Admit what?” you asked, avoiding her gaze.

“That you care,” Olivia said, smirking. “Because last I checked, you were all ‘Peter’s not into me,’ and ‘Jade Spence is just a guest,’ blah, blah, blah.”

You scoffed, pushing off the counter. “That’s not what this is about. I just think it’s ridiculous you’re calling him relentless when he’s clearly moved on.”

Olivia gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “Moved on? From what, exactly? Because to move on, you’d have to have been on something in the first place. And as far as I know, nothing’s ever happened between you two.”

“Exactly,” you said quickly, throwing your hands up. “So what’s the point?”

“The point,” Olivia said, stepping closer and poking your shoulder, “is that you’re jealous.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks were starting to burn. “I’m not jealous.”

“Really?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Because you literally just said, ‘he’s the one who’s dating Jade in the first place.’ That’s got ‘green-eyed monster’ written all over it.”

“That’s not—” you started, but Olivia cut you off.

“Y/N, come on,” she said, her tone softer now. “You’ve been acting weird ever since Jade showed up. You’re suddenly going out with Joshua, of all people, and now you’re watching Peter like a hawk every time he’s in the same room.”

“I’m not—” you tried again, but Olivia just kept going.

“And don’t even get me started on the way you probably looked at him during the concert,” she said, crossing her arms. “You might as well have had a flashing sign over your head that said, ‘I wish I was sitting next to him.’”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “You’re reading way too much into this.”

“Am I?” Olivia said, leaning closer. “Because from where I’m standing, it’s pretty obvious. You like Peter. And whether you want to admit it or not, him hanging out with Jade is driving you nuts.”

You didn’t respond right away, staring at the floor as Olivia’s words sank in. Finally, you muttered, “It doesn’t matter. He’s with her. End of story.”

“Y/N,” Olivia said, exasperated. “You don’t get it, do you? He’s not with her. He’s using her.”

Your head snapped up, your eyes narrowing. “That’s a terrible thing to say. Peter’s not like that.”

“Oh, please,” Olivia said, rolling her eyes. “Peter’s a lot of things, but subtle isn’t one of them. He’s parading Jade around because he’s trying to get a reaction out of you.”

“That’s insane,” you said, shaking your head. “Why would he—”

“Because he likes you, you idiot!” Olivia practically shouted, throwing her hands up. “And he doesn’t know how to deal with it because you’ve been so busy convincing yourself he doesn’t!”

You stared at her, stunned into silence. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint ticking of the clock on the wall.

Finally, you found your voice. “If that’s true,” you said quietly, “then why hasn’t he said anything?”

Olivia sighed, her expression softening. “Because he’s Peter. He’s not going to lay it all out there unless he’s sure it’s what you want too.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. Deep down, a small part of you wondered if Olivia was right—if Peter’s actions, his lingering looks, and his sudden attention to Jade were all because of you. But another part of you was too afraid to believe it.

“Well?” Olivia said, raising an eyebrow. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Olivia smirked, leaning back against the counter. “Well, you’d better figure it out. Because if you don’t, someone else is going to make the first move. And I don’t think you’ll like how that turns out.”

You swallowed hard, her words echoing in your mind as you stared out the window, unsure of what your next step should be.

---

The party at Baron Edward’s estate was in full swing, and you found yourself clinging to the edge of the crowd, sipping something sparkling and pretending to look interested in the artwork on the walls. Joshua was mingling effortlessly, charming guests with his smooth conversation and quick wit. Olivia had disappeared somewhere, likely causing her usual brand of chaos.

Across the room, Peter was standing near Jade, the two of them engaged in polite conversation with a small group. He looked as polished as ever, his tailored suit sharp against the warm glow of the chandeliers. You noticed his hand resting lightly on the back of Jade’s chair, and for reasons you didn’t want to unpack, it sent a pang through your chest.

Joshua reappeared at your side, offering you a warm smile. "What do you say, Y/N? Care to join me for a dance?"

You felt your cheeks heat up instantly, your fingers tightening on the glass of champagne you’d been nursing for the past half hour. "Oh, um… I don’t really think I’m—"

He gave you an easy smile, his hand already half-extended. "You’ll be fine. I promise not to step on your toes."

You shook your head quickly, the thought of dozens of pairs of eyes on you making your chest tighten. "I think I’ll sit this one out. Sorry."

Joshua tilted his head slightly, studying you for a moment before nodding. "No need to apologize. Maybe next time." He glanced around and spotted Olivia chatting with a group near the drinks table. "Mind if I steal your friend, then?"

"Not at all," you said quickly, grateful he didn’t press the issue.

Joshua smiled, gave you a small nod, and headed off toward Olivia, who didn’t hesitate to accept his offer. You watched as they made their way to the dance floor, Olivia laughing at something Joshua said as he spun her gracefully into the music.

"You could’ve at least warned him you were a terrible dancer."

The low, familiar voice sent a shiver down your spine. You turned to find Peter standing beside you, one hand tucked casually in the pocket of his perfectly tailored suit. His gaze was sharp but amused, his lips curved in a faint smile.

"I didn’t think it was necessary," you muttered, looking down at your glass.

Peter tilted his head, his tone light. "And here I thought you were just trying to keep him from getting too attached."

Your head shot up, your eyes narrowing. "That’s not—"

He chuckled softly, cutting you off. "Relax, Y/N. I’m joking. Though I have to say, I’m a little surprised. You used to love dancing when we were younger."

You frowned, crossing your arms. "That was different. We were kids, and no one was paying attention back then."

Peter’s smile deepened, his gaze unwavering. "And now?"

"Now," you said quickly, "it’s just… not my thing."

"Hmm," he mused, his tone carrying that infuriating mix of charm and challenge. "I don’t believe you."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to mask your growing discomfort. "Well, you don’t have to."

Peter didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he extended a hand toward you, his eyes meeting yours with quiet intensity. "Dance with me."

"What?" you blurted, your heart skipping a beat.

"You heard me," he said, his voice steady. "Dance with me. Just one song."

"I—I can’t," you stammered, glancing around nervously. "Not here."

Peter’s smile shifted, softer now but no less insistent. Without waiting for an answer, he took your glass from your hand, setting it down on a nearby table, and offered his arm. "Then let’s find somewhere quieter."

You hesitated, glancing toward the dance floor where Olivia and Joshua were spinning effortlessly among the other couples. "Peter, I don’t think—"

"Trust me," he interrupted gently.

Before you could protest, he guided you out of the main ballroom and into a dimly lit hallway just off to the side. The music followed faintly, softer now, the sounds of laughter and conversation fading into the background.

Peter stopped near a small alcove, his hand still lightly resting on your arm. "Better?"

You nodded, though your heart was still racing. "A little."

"Good," he said, stepping closer. He took your hand in his, his touch warm and steady. "Now, let’s try this again."

"Peter, I’m going to embarrass myself," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"You won’t," he said firmly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "It’s just us, Y/N. No one’s watching."

You hesitated, but the way he looked at you—patient, encouraging, and far too confident—made it impossible to say no.

"Okay," you murmured, your voice so soft you weren’t sure he even heard you.

Peter smiled, a genuine one this time, and placed your other hand lightly on his shoulder. His hand settled on your waist, the touch sending a strange flutter through your chest.

"See?" he said, his voice low as he guided you into a slow, swaying rhythm. "Nothing to it."

"I feel ridiculous," you admitted, glancing at your feet to make sure you weren’t stepping on him.

"Don’t," Peter said softly. "You’re doing fine."

You glanced up at him, his face closer than you’d realized. His expression was calm, but his eyes… there was something in them you couldn’t quite name.

The faint strains of the orchestra drifted through the hallway, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away.

"You’re not bad at this," Peter said after a while, his tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile crept onto your lips. "You’re a very biased judge."

"Maybe," he admitted, his lips twitching into a smirk. "But I’m right, aren’t I?"

You didn’t answer, your gaze dropping to his collar instead. His tie was slightly loosened, just enough to make him look effortlessly disheveled in a way that only Peter could manage.

"Y/N," he said softly, drawing your attention back to his face. His smile had faded, replaced by something quieter, more serious.

"Yes?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. "Why do you let him distract you?"

"Who?" you asked, confused.

"Joshua," Peter said simply, his tone calm but pointed. "You’re not interested in him."

You froze, your cheeks burning. "That’s not—"

"You don’t have to explain," he interrupted, his voice low. "I just… I don’t understand why you’re pretending."

Your chest tightened, his words cutting far closer to the truth than you wanted to admit. "I’m not pretending."

Peter’s eyes searched yours, his expression softening. "You don’t have to, Y/N. Not with me."

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the distant sound of the music filling the silence.

"I…" you started, but the words wouldn’t come.

Peter leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Think about it, Y/N. That’s all I’m asking."

You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as his words settled in the air between you. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the moment was gone.

Peter stepped back, his hand slipping from your waist. "Thank you for the dance."

You nodded mutely, watching as he turned and walked away, his footsteps fading down the hall.

Your heart was still racing, and as the music swelled again, you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had just changed.

---

A few days after the party you were laying on Olivia’s couch, a box of tissues in your lap and a cool rag on your forehead.

“Oh, sweetie.” Olivia cooed, taking the rag away from you.

“’M not a baby,” you muttered, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself as Olivia dabbed your forehead with the cool rag.

“I know,” she teased, sitting back on the edge of the coffee table. “But you’re my favorite patient, so deal with it.” You gave her a weak glare, which she met with a smirk. “Honestly, Y/N, you’re lucky I love you. I’ve got work in a bit, and instead of doing literally anything else, I’m here playing Florence Nightingale.”

“Don’t let me keep you,” you replied, your voice hoarse. “I’ll leave when you do. I’ll get a cab back to my place.”

Olivia frowned, crossing her arms. “You’re really going to haul yourself into a cab like this? You can just stay here.”

You shook your head, coughing lightly into a tissue. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want to be in your way.”

“Like you could ever be in my way,” Olivia scoffed, standing and smoothing her blouse. “Alright, if you insist on being stubborn, I’ll drop you at the cab stand on my way out.”

She disappeared down the hall to finish getting ready, and you closed your eyes, trying to focus on the sound of the TV in the background instead of the pounding in your head.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. You heard Olivia’s muffled footsteps and then the sound of the door opening.

“Oh, Peter,” Olivia said, her voice laced with mild surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” Peter replied smoothly. “Thought I’d check in.”

“Well, I’m heading to work in a minute,” Olivia said, her voice casual. “But Y/N’s in the living room. She’s not feeling great, though, so don’t expect sparkling conversation.”

There was a pause, and then you heard Peter’s footsteps approaching. You opened your eyes just as he entered the room, his expression softening when he saw you curled up on the couch.

“You look dreadful,” he said, his tone gentle but teasing.

“Thanks,” you croaked, giving him a weak smile.

He chuckled, crouching down so you were eye level. “What’s the plan? Olivia mentioned a cab.”

You nodded. “When she leaves, I’ll call one and head home.”

Peter frowned slightly, standing and crossing his arms. “No, you won’t.”

“Excuse me?” you said, sitting up a little.

“You’re not well,” he said firmly. “I’ll take you home.”

“Peter, that’s not necessary—”

“It is,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I don’t trust you to actually rest if you’re left to your own devices. Come on, let’s get you sorted.”

Olivia reappeared, shrugging into her coat and raising an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“Change of plans,” Peter said, offering you a hand. “I’m taking her home.”

You hesitated, glancing between them, but Olivia grinned. “Well, aren’t you sweet? Take good care of her, Peter. She’s a nightmare when she’s sick.”

“Noted,” Peter replied, helping you stand. “Let’s go, Y/N.”

---

The drive to your apartment was quiet. You leaned against the cool window, trying to ignore how warm your cheeks felt—not just from the fever, but from Peter’s presence.

When you reached your building, Peter insisted on helping you out of the car and up the stairs, his hand resting lightly on your back as you walked.

“You really don’t have to—”

“Y/N,” he said, cutting you off as he opened your apartment door with the spare key Olivia had borrowed and returned. “Let me help. You’re not going to convince me otherwise.”

Once inside, he guided you to the couch, setting your blanket over you and grabbing a pillow to tuck behind your head.

“Comfy?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You nodded, already feeling more at ease. “Thank you.”

Peter smiled faintly. “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t even started making tea.”

“You’re staying?” you asked, your eyes widening slightly.

“Of course,” he said lightly, already heading toward the kitchen. “Someone has to make sure you don’t keel over.”

“Peter, I can take care of myself,” you called after him, though the argument sounded weak even to your own ears.

“I’m sure you can,” he replied, his voice teasing. “But humor me.”

You sighed, leaning back into the cushions. As much as you hated to admit it, having him there was… comforting.

“Do you even know where I keep the tea?” you called, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“I’m resourceful,” he shot back, and you could hear the sound of cabinets opening and closing.

Shaking your head, you closed your eyes, letting the quiet sounds of him moving around your kitchen fill the air.

Peter returned from the kitchen a few minutes later, carrying a mug of tea. He crouched beside the couch, offering it to you with a soft smile. “Here. Drink this.”

You blinked at him, your fingers curling around the warm mug. “You really didn’t have to.”

He leaned an arm on the edge of the couch, his face a bit closer now. “I know. But I wanted to.”

You swallowed, unsure how to respond, so you took a small sip of the tea instead. The warmth spread through your chest, soothing in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Good?” he asked, watching you intently.

You nodded, your voice soft. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

He smiled, his eyes flickering to your hair. Without saying anything, he reached up, brushing a stray strand away from your face. The motion was so casual, yet it sent a flutter through your chest.

“You’re burning up,” Peter said quietly, his hand lingering near your cheek before he pressed it lightly against your forehead. “When’s the last time you took anything for the fever?”

You squirmed under his touch, your cheeks growing warmer—not from the fever, you were sure. “Uh… this morning, I think?”

Peter frowned slightly, standing up and moving toward the kitchen again. “Stay put. I’ll grab something for you.”

You watched him go, your heart thumping unreasonably loud in your chest. He was being nice—nicer than he needed to be—but you chalked it up to Peter just being… Peter. Charming. Polished. Practically perfect. And completely out of your league.

He returned a minute later with a small glass of water and some medicine, handing both to you while placing the mug on the coffee table. “Take these.”

You hesitated but followed his instructions, swallowing the pills quickly and handing the glass back. He set it on the side table before sitting on the edge of the coffee table again, his gaze never leaving your face.

“Better?” he asked.

“Not yet,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I will be. Thanks for… you know. Helping.”

Peter tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I’d hardly call this helping. It’s just making sure you’re not miserable on your own.”

You managed a small smile, sinking further into the couch. “Still. Thank you.”

He didn’t reply immediately, his gaze softening. He reached out again, his hand brushing lightly over your forehead as if checking your temperature once more. “You should try to sleep,” he murmured, his tone unusually gentle. “I’ll stay here.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you mumbled, already feeling your eyelids grow heavy.

“I know,” he said softly. “But I want to.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue, letting your head rest against the pillow. Peter adjusted the blanket around your shoulders, his movements careful and deliberate.

Just as you began to drift off, you felt something—a feather-light brush against your forehead. Too tired to open your eyes, you assumed it was nothing, just a fever-dream detail slipping through.

But Peter sat back quietly, his expression unreadable as he watched you settle deeper into sleep. His hand rested on the edge of the couch for a moment longer before he stood, adjusting the light in the room to something softer.

For now, he would wait.

---

When you woke, you weren’t on the couch anymore. Instead, you were tucked into your bed, your blanket pulled up to your shoulders. The soft hum of an old humidifier filled the room, a faint stream of vapor rising from its spout.

You blinked groggily, your gaze settling on the chair near your bed. Peter was there, his jacket draped over the back of the chair and his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. He had a book open in his lap but wasn’t reading; his eyes were fixed on you.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, closing the book and setting it aside. “How do you feel?”

“Better,” you mumbled, still half-asleep. “Did you…?”

“Carry you to bed?” he finished, his lips curving into a faint smile. “You were out cold, Y/N. I didn’t think you’d make it to the bed.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you glanced down at the blanket. “You didn’t have to.”

Peter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You said that already. And I’m still ignoring it.”

You fiddled with the edge of the blanket, unsure of what to say. “Thanks,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, his voice low. “I wanted to.”

You glanced at him, your heart skipping a beat at the way his eyes softened when they met yours. He reached over, brushing a hand lightly across your forehead. His touch was warm, lingering just a second longer than necessary.

“Your fever’s down,” he murmured. “That’s good.”

You nodded, too shy to meet his gaze for long. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough,” he said lightly, leaning back in the chair. “Olivia called to check in. I told her you were still alive.”

You huffed out a quiet laugh. “She’ll probably tell everyone I’m being dramatic.”

“She might,” Peter said with a faint smirk. “But I’ll set the record straight. Tell them you were very brave.”

“Stop,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket up to your face to hide your smile.

Peter chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Fine. I’ll spare you the teasing. For now.”

You peeked over the blanket, catching his grin. “I didn’t know you were such a good nurse.”

“I’m full of surprises,” he said smoothly, standing up and stretching. “Do you need anything? More water? Tea?”

“No, I’m okay,” you said quickly, though your voice came out quieter than you intended.

Peter crossed his arms, studying you for a moment. Then, without a word, he stepped closer, adjusting the blanket around your shoulders. His hand brushed yours briefly, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Peter didn’t move right away. His hand rested lightly on the edge of the bed, and you could feel the weight of his presence. Finally, he straightened, his expression unreadable.

“Try to rest,” he said, his tone gentler than before. “I’ll be in the other room if you need me.”

“Wait,” you blurted, surprising yourself. When he turned back to you, eyebrows raised, you faltered. “I mean… you don’t have to stay in the other room. If you’re tired or something, you can… I don’t know, sit here? If you want?”

Peter’s lips twitched into a small smile, his gaze softening. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you said quickly, then immediately looked down, your cheeks burning. “I just… I don’t mind.”

He hesitated for only a moment before pulling the chair closer to the bed. “Alright,” he said simply, settling back into it. “If you insist.”

You relaxed a little, letting your eyes close again. Peter didn’t say anything else, and for a while, the only sounds in the room were the quiet hum of the humidifier and the soft rustle of pages as he reopened his book.

Before you drifted off, you felt the edge of the blanket shift slightly, as though he were tucking it in more securely. It was such a small gesture, but it left your heart fluttering in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

---

As you cleaned up your spreadsheet a knock on your office door drew your attention away from your computer.

“Someone’s here to see you. A… Peter?” Alyssa said.

You rolled your chair back a little before standing up, “Peter?” You repeated. “Oh—uh, yeah, send him in.”

Alyssa smiled and went back to the reception desk. You sat back down just as Peter knocked a few times on your open door before entering, a brown paper bag in his hand.

“Good afternoon,” he said smoothly, stepping inside like he owned the place. “Thought I’d stop by and see how my favorite accountant was doing.”

You blinked, immediately flustered. “Peter, what are you doing here?”

He held up the bag with a small smile. “I remembered you’re terrible about taking lunch breaks, so I thought I’d bring it to you.”

Your cheeks warmed as you glanced at the bag. “You didn’t have to do that. I was going to grab something later.”

“Were you, though?” Peter teased, pulling up a chair without asking. “Or were you planning to survive on coffee and determination?”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t wrong. “Okay, fine. But really, you didn’t need to go out of your way.”

“It wasn’t out of my way,” he replied, leaning back casually. “Besides, I wanted to.”

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Peter always had this way of saying things that left you completely off balance. “Well… thanks,” you mumbled, reaching for the bag.

“You’re welcome,” he said, his tone softer now. “It’s just a sandwich and some soup, but I figured it’d hold you over.”

You opened the bag, the warm aroma of tomato soup wafting out. “This is… really nice of you.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Peter said with a faint smirk. “I can be nice.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” you replied quickly, glancing up at him. “It’s just… unexpected.”

Peter tilted his head, studying you with an unreadable expression. “I like surprising you.”

Your stomach flipped at the way he said it, but before you could respond, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “So, how’s work?”

You shrugged, grateful for the change in topic. “Same as always. Spreadsheets, numbers, more spreadsheets.”

“Thrilling,” Peter teased, though his tone held genuine interest. “And Joshua? Has he been stopping by with sandwiches too?”

You froze, your spoon hovering over the soup container. “What? No. Why would he?”

Peter shrugged, his eyes glinting with something you couldn’t quite place. “Just curious. Thought maybe he was trying to impress you.”

“Well, he’s not,” you said quickly, though your cheeks felt like they were on fire. “We’ve only gone out a couple of times. It’s not that serious.”

“Good to know,” Peter said smoothly, sitting back in his chair.

You frowned, glancing at him. “Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t,” he said lightly, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just making conversation.”

You hesitated, searching his expression for some kind of clue, but he was impossible to read. “Okay,” you said finally, turning your attention back to your soup.

Peter watched you for a moment longer before standing. “I’ll let you get back to it. But if you need another delivery, you know where to find me.”

You glanced up, surprised by the sudden shift. “You’re leaving already?”

He smiled faintly. “For now. But I’ll see you soon.”

Before you could respond, he was already heading for the door. You stared after him, the warmth of his gesture lingering even as his presence left the room.

Peter paused in the doorway, glancing back over his shoulder. “Don’t skip lunch tomorrow, Y/N.”

“I won’t,” you promised, though your voice was softer than you intended.

His smile widened slightly, and then he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the small, unexpected weight of his visit.

---

The Apollo Theatre foyer buzzed with excited chatter as you stood with Joshua, clutching your program and trying not to look overwhelmed. Olivia spotted you almost instantly, weaving through the crowd with her signature enthusiasm.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, wrapping you in a quick hug before turning to Joshua. “And look who’s with you. Hey Joshua. Ready for the show?”

Joshua smiled warmly, shaking her hand. “Always. How could I pass up an evening at the theatre?”

Olivia turned back to you, grinning. “Y/N, are you ready for this? I’ve heard Wicked is incredible. And you know how I feel about The Wizard of Oz.”

You laughed softly. “You’ve only mentioned it a thousand times.”

Before Olivia could retort, another familiar voice joined the conversation. “Quite the reunion, isn’t it?”

Your head snapped toward the source. Peter stood a few feet away, looking effortlessly composed as always. Beside him, Jade smiled politely, her golden hair catching the soft light of the foyer.

Joshua straightened, his expression slipping into something cooler. “Peter. Jade. Fancy seeing you here.”

Peter’s smile didn’t waver as he glanced at you. “Is it? I thought this was the hottest ticket in town. Wouldn’t miss it.”

Olivia’s eyes darted between the two men, her smirk growing. “Wow, all four of us together. How cozy.”

“Five,” Jade corrected with a light laugh. “Don’t forget me.”

“Right, of course,” Olivia said, her tone borderline teasing.

Joshua’s hand brushed lightly against your back. “Shall we find our seats, Y/N? I think intermission mingling will suffice for this particular group.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Actually, you’re all in our row. They’ve just started seating.”

Your heart sank slightly as Peter gestured toward the usher holding the door open. Of course you’d all end up sitting together—it was just your luck.

Joshua’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, but he maintained his composure. “Well, that’s convenient.”

Peter stepped forward, extending an arm toward you. “Shall we?”

Joshua opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Olivia interjected, her tone bright and amused. “Go ahead, Y/N. Peter knows the way better than any of us.”

You shot Olivia a quick glare, but Peter was already waiting, his arm still offered. Hesitantly, you placed your hand on his sleeve, letting him guide you toward the theatre. Joshua followed close behind, his expression unreadable.

---

The row was, unsurprisingly, a bit of a squeeze. Olivia sat on the far end, with Joshua next to her. You were in the middle, flanked by Peter on your left and Jade on his other side.

“This is… cozy,” Olivia quipped as everyone settled into their seats.

“Intimate, even,” Peter added smoothly, his gaze sliding to you. “How are you finding your evening so far, Y/N?”

“It’s nice,” you said quickly, fidgeting with your program. “I’m excited for the show.”

“As you should be,” Peter replied, leaning closer. “It’s a masterpiece. Though, I’ll admit, some moments can be quite… emotional.”

“Good thing I brought tissues,” Olivia teased from the other end.

Joshua cleared his throat, drawing your attention. “Are you familiar with the music, Y/N? I could hum a few bars if you need a preview.”

You laughed softly, trying to ease the growing tension. “I think I’ll manage, thanks.”

Peter’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Careful, Joshua. You wouldn’t want to spoil the magic.”

Jade glanced between the two men, her smile polite but strained. “Isn’t it wonderful how theatre brings everyone together?”

“Truly,” Peter said, his tone light but sharp enough to earn a glance from Joshua.

Before the exchange could escalate, the lights dimmed, and the orchestra began its overture. You turned your attention to the stage, grateful for the distraction.

---

Throughout the performance, you couldn’t help but feel hyper-aware of Peter. His arm rested lightly on the shared armrest, close enough that your elbows brushed once or twice. Each time, you shifted slightly, but he didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps he did and simply didn’t care.

Joshua, meanwhile, leaned in occasionally to whisper something about the show. His commentary was kind and thoughtful, but your responses were distracted, your focus tugged toward the man on your other side.

When intermission arrived, Olivia stood immediately. “Drinks, anyone? I could use something fizzy.”

“I’ll come with you,” Jade said quickly, standing and smoothing her dress.

Joshua glanced at you. “Want to stretch your legs, Y/N?”

Before you could answer, Peter turned toward you, his expression casual but intent. “Or we could stay and chat. The lobby will be packed.”

Joshua’s jaw tightened, but he managed a smile. “It’s up to you.”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of both their gazes. “I think I’ll stay,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joshua nodded stiffly. “Alright. I’ll grab you a drink, then.”

As he and the others filed out, Peter leaned back in his seat, his posture relaxed. “Interesting choice.”

You turned toward him, fidgeting slightly with the program in your lap. “What is?”

“Staying behind,” he said lightly, his gaze steady but unintrusive. “I thought you might want a break from all this.” He gestured toward the crowded theatre.

You shrugged, unsure how to respond. “I don’t mind staying. It’s quieter now.”

Peter’s lips quirked into a small smile. “True. Quieter can be nice sometimes.”

You nodded, clutching the program tighter. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy in a way that made your chest feel tight.

“You’re enjoying the show, I hope?” Peter asked after a moment, his tone light.

“Yeah, it’s amazing,” you said quickly, grateful for the neutral topic. “The cast is incredible.”

“It’s a masterpiece,” Peter agreed. “I remember the first time I saw it. Defying Gravity gave me chills.”

You smiled faintly. “It’s definitely the kind of show that sticks with you.”

He studied you for a moment, then leaned a bit closer, resting his arm on the shared armrest. “You know, I’ve always admired your taste in music.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What? Why?”

Peter shrugged casually, though there was a glimmer of something deeper in his eyes. “You’ve got a good ear. You appreciate the details most people miss.”

Your cheeks grew warm under his gaze. “I don’t know about that. I just… like what I like.”

“That’s what makes it genuine,” he said simply. “You don’t pretend to like things just because it’s expected. It’s refreshing.”

You glanced down, fiddling with the corner of the program. “I guess I’ve never thought about it that way.”

He chuckled softly, his voice warm. “That’s what makes it true.”

You dared to look up at him again, finding his expression unusually soft. “You’re being… really nice today.”

“Am I not usually nice?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

“No, you are,” you said quickly, stumbling over your words. “It’s just… different.”

Peter tilted his head, his smile growing. “Maybe I’m just trying to put you at ease. You always seem a little… on edge around me.”

“I’m not,” you protested, though your voice lacked conviction.

“You are,” he countered gently. “But I’m glad you stayed. It’s nice talking like this.”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. Finally, you muttered, “Yeah, it is.”

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, and he leaned back into his seat, his hand resting on the armrest just a little closer to yours. “Do you remember the first play we went to? At my father’s estate? You must’ve been—what? Eleven? Twelve?”

You smiled faintly at the memory. “It was A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Olivia made me go with her.”

Peter chuckled. “And you spent the entire first act whispering that you didn’t understand why people thought Shakespeare was funny.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Please don’t remind me. I was such a pain back then.”

“You weren’t,” he said softly, his tone sincere. “You were curious. That’s what made it endearing.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, your voice muffled. “Endearing?”

“Very,” he said with a small grin.

Before you could respond, the others began filtering back into the row. Joshua handed you a drink with a polite smile, his eyes flicking briefly to Peter. “Hope I got the right one.”

“Perfect,” you said quickly, taking the glass and shifting slightly in your seat.

Peter leaned back, his expression unreadable, but his gaze lingered on you for just a moment longer before he turned his attention to the stage.

As the lights dimmed and the show resumed, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Peter’s presence beside you. It was magnetic, grounding in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

And as the music swelled, you found yourself wondering if staying behind had been the right choice—or if it had only complicated things even more.

---

It was nerve-wracking going on dates with Joshua, but meeting his parents? That felt like a completely different level of stress. Lord Beckett’s estate was sprawling, the kind of place you’d only seen in magazines, and the garden party looked like something out of a period drama.

“Relax,” Joshua said, offering you his arm as you both approached the grand lawn. “They’re going to love you. And even if they don’t, they’re far too proper to say anything about it.”

“That’s… oddly comforting,” you muttered, glancing nervously at the clusters of guests sipping champagne and chatting under the shade of elegant white umbrellas.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, his tone warm. “Just smile and let me do the talking.”

You managed a small nod, though your stomach twisted with nerves.

Joshua led you toward a group near the center of the lawn, where Lord Beckett stood in a sharp navy suit, his posture as upright as his title implied. His wife, Lady Beckett, was beside him, her features poised and polite.

“Ah, Joshua,” Lord Beckett said, his deep voice carrying over the hum of conversation. His sharp eyes flicked to you. “And this must be… Y/N, is it?”

“Yes, sir,” you said softly, offering a polite smile.

“Welcome,” Lady Beckett said, her tone more cordial than warm. “It’s lovely to meet you. Joshua’s spoken highly of you.”

You blinked, glancing at Joshua, who grinned. “What can I say? She’s easy to talk about.”

Lady Beckett’s smile widened just a fraction. “How charming.”

Before the conversation could go much further, another familiar voice cut in.

“Lord Beckett,” Peter said smoothly, stepping into the group with Jade on his arm. “Always a pleasure.”

Your breath caught, and you instinctively looked away, focusing intently on the glass in your hand.

“Peter Lyman,” Lord Beckett greeted, his tone polite but measured. “You’ve been making quite the rounds lately.”

Peter chuckled. “What can I say? It’s hard to resist a good garden party.” His gaze flicked to you briefly, his smile unwavering. “Y/N. Fancy seeing you here.”

Jade added with a light laugh, “it’s practically a reunion, isn’t it? How lovely.”

Joshua’s arm tensed slightly under your hand, but he kept his tone pleasant. “Peter, Jade. Enjoying the season?”

“Absolutely,” Peter replied, his tone smooth as silk. “And you? Busy keeping Y/N entertained, I assume?”

Joshua’s smile tightened just enough for you to notice. “She’s been wonderful company. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You nodded quickly, feeling the weight of everyone’s gaze. “Yes. Very.”

Peter’s lips quirked, his expression unreadable. “Good to hear.”

Jade broke the tension with a bright laugh, linking her arm with Peter’s. “Peter’s always said these events are better with good company. Haven’t you, darling?”

“Something like that,” Peter said lightly, though his eyes flicked back to you briefly.

“Shall we, Y/N?” Joshua asked suddenly, his tone smooth but insistent. “I’d love to show you the south gardens. They’re a bit quieter.”

You nodded, eager for an escape. “Of course.”

As Joshua guided you away, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder. Peter’s gaze was still on you, his expression calm but intent, as if he was waiting for something you weren’t sure you could give.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Joshua said quietly as you walked, his voice low but firm.

“What?” you asked, startled.

“Lyman,” Joshua clarified, glancing at you. “He likes to play games. Don’t let him pull you into one.”

You frowned, unsure of how to respond. “I don’t think he—”

“He does,” Joshua interrupted gently but firmly. “Trust me.”

You didn’t answer, but your thoughts were a storm of doubt and confusion as you followed Joshua toward the gardens.

---

The south gardens were quieter, with fewer guests and a small fountain bubbling in the center. Joshua stopped beside it, turning to face you fully.

“You’re tense,” he said softly.

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, though your voice wavered.

Joshua studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “Y/N… if this is too much, you don’t have to stay.”

“No, it’s okay,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I just—this isn’t really my scene, you know? But I’ll manage.”

He nodded, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I know it’s not easy. But you’re handling it well.”

“Thanks,” you said, though your thoughts were still elsewhere.

Joshua’s gaze flicked past you for a moment, and his expression shifted, growing cooler. You turned to see Peter approaching, his stride measured and confident.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” Peter said smoothly, stopping a few paces away.

“Actually—” Joshua started, but Peter cut him off.

“Y/N,” Peter said, his tone softer as his gaze settled on you. “Do you have a moment?”

Joshua’s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone even. “We were just about to head back, actually.”

Peter ignored him, his eyes still on you. “Just a moment, Y/N. That’s all I need.”

You hesitated, glancing between them. Joshua’s expression was calm but tense, while Peter’s was unreadable, his usual charm tempered by something more serious.

“Go ahead,” Joshua said finally, his voice tight. “I’ll wait here.”

You nodded slowly, stepping toward Peter. “What is it?”

Peter waited until you were out of earshot before speaking, his voice low. “You don’t have to stay with him, you know.”

“What?” you asked, frowning.

“I mean it,” he said, his tone soft but firm. “If you’re not happy, you don’t have to keep pretending.”

“I’m not pretending,” you said quickly, though your voice sounded unconvincing even to your own ears.

Peter’s eyes searched yours, his expression softening. “You are. And you’re not very good at it.”

Your chest tightened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to argue.

“I know this is all… complicated,” Peter continued, his voice gentler now. “But I can’t stand watching you with him, knowing you’re not where you want to be.”

“Peter,” you started, but he shook his head.

“Just think about it, Y/N,” he said quietly. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Before you could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind spinning.

---

Later, while you sipped your glass of champagne and held a small plate with a scone, Joshua leaned down, his voice low and warm. “I’m going to say hello to the Westford’s,” he said, pressing a light kiss to your cheek before walking away.

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat as you glanced around, hoping no one had noticed. It felt like such a public display, something you weren’t used to, especially with so many watchful eyes at a gathering like this.

Unfortunately, someone had noticed.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Peter standing with Jade near the edge of the garden. His expression was calm, but there was a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. And then, with deliberate ease, Peter turned toward Jade, leaning down to whisper something in her ear.

Jade laughed softly, tilting her head up to him.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t a quick, polite kiss, either. It was slow, deliberate—enough to catch the attention of more than a few nearby guests.

Your stomach twisted as you froze, your fingers tightening around your glass. For a moment, you considered looking away, but your gaze betrayed you, snapping back to Peter.

And that’s when he looked at you.

Even as he kissed Jade, his eyes met yours, holding your gaze with an intensity that sent a chill down your spine. It wasn’t a glance; it was deliberate, calculated.

You felt your chest tighten, heat rising to your face. Before you could process what had just happened, you set your plate and glass down on a nearby table and turned on your heel, heading toward the side of the lawn.

You found Joshua near the Westford’s, laughing at something Lord Westford had said. He glanced up as you approached, his expression softening. “Y/N, are you alright?”

“I’m not feeling well,” you said quickly, your voice tight. “I think I’m going to head out.”

Joshua frowned, stepping closer. “What’s wrong? Do you want me to call for a car?”

“No, it’s fine,” you replied, shaking your head. “I’ll grab a cab. I just need to go.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed, his brow furrowing.

“I’m sure,” you said, your tone firmer this time. “Thank you for the invitation. It was… lovely.”

Joshua hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded. “Alright. Just let me know when you’re home, okay?”

“I will,” you promised, already turning to leave.

You made your way out of the estate, barely registering the elegant gardens or the soft chatter of the guests. Your chest felt tight, and your thoughts were a jumbled mess as you flagged down a cab and climbed inside.

---

By the time you arrived at Olivia’s apartment, your head was spinning. You fumbled with the spare key she’d given you, finally unlocking the door and stepping inside.

“Y/N?” Olivia called from the couch, her voice muffled by the blanket draped over her. She sat up, a bowl of popcorn in her lap. “What are you doing here? I thought you were at Lord Beckett’s thing.”

You dropped your purse on the nearest chair, your hands trembling slightly. “I was. I just… I couldn’t stay.”

Olivia’s eyes narrowed as she set the popcorn aside and stood, crossing the room in a few quick strides. “Okay, spill. What happened?”

You hesitated, your throat tightening. “Peter happened,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Olivia blinked, then sighed, crossing her arms. “What did he do this time?”

You sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. “He kissed Jade. Right in front of everyone. And then he… he looked at me.”

“What?” Olivia asked, her tone sharp. She sat down beside you, her hand resting on your arm. “Are you serious?”

You nodded, unable to keep back your sobs any longer. “I don’t know what he’s trying to do, Liv. One minute he’s nice, the next he’s… playing games. I can’t keep up.”

Olivia frowned, scooting closer and pulling you into a hug. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

You leaned into her, your face pressed against her shoulder. “It’s just… he said something to me before he kissed her.”

She pulled back slightly, her hands still on your arms. “What did he say?”

Your voice wavered as you tried to explain. “He said… he couldn’t stand seeing me with Joshua. That I wasn’t where I wanted to be. And then—then he just… walked away. And not even ten minutes later, he’s kissing Jade like it’s nothing.”

Olivia exhaled sharply, pulling you back into her arms. “Oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry. That’s so… Ugh, I don’t even know what to say.”

You sniffled, your hands clutching the fabric of her sweater. “Why would he say something like that if he didn’t mean it? And then do the exact opposite? It’s like he’s trying to mess with me.”

She rubbed your back gently, her voice soft. “I know it feels like that. But right now, you don’t need to make sense of it. You’ve had a hell of a day. Let’s just… focus on getting you through this moment, okay?”

You nodded weakly, wiping at your eyes. “I feel so stupid, Liv. I shouldn’t even care, but I do. I always have.”

“You’re not stupid,” Olivia said firmly, pulling back enough to look you in the eye. “You’ve had feelings for him forever. This isn’t something you can just turn off.”

You didn’t respond, your chest still tight as you struggled to catch your breath.

“Alright,” Olivia said after a moment, her tone more practical. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re staying here tonight. I’ll make us some tea, and we’ll find something mindless to watch on TV. No more thinking about Peter, Jade, or Joshua. Deal?”

You hesitated, but the thought of not dealing with any of it, even for a little while, was too tempting to resist. “Deal.”

“Good,” Olivia said, standing and giving you a small smile. “Stay put. I’ll grab the tea.”

As she headed to the kitchen, you curled up on the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around you. Your thoughts were still spinning, but Olivia’s presence was grounding, her no-nonsense approach exactly what you needed.

When she returned with two steaming mugs, she set one down in front of you and plopped onto the couch with the other. “Alright, your choice: rom-coms or reality TV?”

You hesitated, then managed a small smile. “Rom-coms. Something ridiculous.”

Olivia grinned, grabbing the remote. “You’ve got it.”

As the opening credits of some over-the-top romantic comedy filled the screen, you leaned back into the cushions, trying to let the chaos of the day fade into the background. Olivia reached over, giving your hand a quick squeeze before settling in beside you.

“Hey,” she said quietly. “Whatever happens, you’ll figure it out. You always do.”

You nodded, your voice too shaky to respond. For now, you let yourself focus on the warmth of the tea in your hands and the comfort of Olivia’s shoulder against yours. It wasn’t a solution, but it was enough for the moment.

⁠♡ part 2 ♡

#peter lyman x reader #peter lyman x fem!reader #peter lyman x you #peter lyman #scoop 2006 #hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x y/n #hugh jackman x female reader #logan howlett x reader #hugh jackman x fem!reader

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etherealval · 7 hours ago

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move nights with matt | pairing: matt sturniolo x reader

the tv cast a soft glow around matt’s room, and the faint smell of buttered popcorn lingered in the air. the blankets you’d grabbed were tossed across the bed, one already draped lazily over matt as he stretched out, looking completely at ease.

he was sprawled out on his bed, hoodie rumpled, and his usual baggy jeans swapped for sweats. as you climbed in beside him, he immediately shifted, lifting an arm so you could tuck yourself into his side like it was second nature.

“took you long enough,” he muttered, a little smirk tugging at his lips.

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling as you leaned into him, resting your head on his chest. “maybe if you didn’t hog the popcorn, i’d have been faster.”

he laughed softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “you snooze, you lose, baby.”

as the movie started, his arm wrapped snug around your shoulders, his other hand idly tracing shapes against your back. you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the soft cotton of his hoodie against your cheek.

about halfway through, you glanced up to find matt wasn’t even watching the movie. his eyes were on you, warm and lazy, a little smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“what?” you whispered, your voice barely cutting through the sound of the tv.

“nothing,” he said quickly, but his cheeks flushed. after a second, he added, quieter, “just like having you here.”

your stomach fluttered, and you couldn’t help but grin as you nudged him lightly. “you’re so sappy.”

“yeah, yeah,” he murmured, pulling you a little closer like he was trying to hide his face. but then he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than usual.

the rest of the movie passed in a comfortable blur. matt’s fingers laced with yours under the blanket, his thumb brushing against your skin. by the time the credits rolled, his breathing had slowed, his head tipped back against the headboard as his eyes drifted shut.

you tilted your head, smiling softly as you brushed a strand of messy hair off his forehead. he looked so peaceful, his face relaxed, his lips slightly parted.

you didn’t bother turning off the tv or getting up to clean anything. instead, you let yourself sink further into him, the warmth of his arms and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

taglist: @heartsforvin , @sturncakez , @matts-myloverboy , @mattsbitchh , @zayluvss @ilyttmatsa , @sturniolosluttt ,@ch6rm

#etherealval ´ˎ˗#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x y/n #matt sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt x reader #matt sturniolo

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capitanooos · 1 day ago

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crawling back to you // dmitri kravinoff x reader

-`♡´- pairing : dmitri kravinoff x reader

-`♡´- summary : you attempt to move on after an unfortunate breakup, yet the date does not go as planned at all.

-`♡´- warnings : erm angst, sad, alcohol, abuse (nikolai ;-;), its a couple of punches, mentions of blood, flashsbacks, crying dima (yes), idk what else lmk if i missed sum

-`♡´- notes : lowk hate this too! now imma drown in more hw

-`♡´- word count : 4400

song mentioned: do i wanna know (hozier)

dont translate, modify or repost my work. you do not have permission. not my gif

“Darian offered to take you out again tomorrow.” Selena, your best friend, spoke from her bathroom as you laid on her bed, a deep sigh falling from your lips at the mention of the man.

The guy she set you up with had been texting you all week. He was handsome, and from the one date you had with him you judged him to be a nice man. But it was too soon, or so you thought. You’d been single for six months now after being in a relationship for nearly two years with someone who you believed was the love of your life.

“Or let me rephrase that. Darian told me he has reserved spots at this really fancy place downtown, and he’d love to take us there on a double date with one of his mates.” Selena walked out and fell down next to where you were rotting. “And I’ve kinda already agreed to it on your behalf so, clear your schedule, it’ll be fun!”

You reached for a pillow and shoved it in her face, groaning at the thought of having to go out instead of spending the night in bed with a mediocre movie and a cheap bottle of wine from Tesco.

“Fine, but only because you’re coming.”

So when the next evening your doorbell rang, you walked up to it to reveal Darian in a suit with flowers in his hand, letting him in with a smile. Taking the flowers from him and putting them in a vase before grabbing your bag and heading out of the door on his arm.

“So, where will we be going?” you asked as you got in his car, clicking the seatbelt in place as you heard him laugh softly.

“It’s a surprise, beautiful.” He said, smiling brightly before starting the car and taking off into the city.

The lights of the city flew past as you crossed town, the streets were busy and people were everywhere. The soft hum of music and the wind soaring around the car calmed your building nerves, everything would be fine. It’s just a date, you know him!

As the car stopped and you got out, you looked at the setting sun, the last beams of warmth reflecting on your skin as you took a deep breath. You reached for Darians arm, walking to the mystery place as you talked about your day, smiling when he complimented your dress and smiling even brighter when your eyes landed on Selena, who stood next to a man you didn’t recognise.

You’d been so endorsed in conversation with Darian that you had not noticed the street you were in, you had not noticed what building you were about to enter as your friend talked your ears off about how hot and sexy this guy with her was.

It was only once you stepped inside and saw the hosts’ face that you looked around and felt your heart drop into your stomach. You swallowed thickly as you were led to your table, trying to cover up your emotions with a smile when you saw Darian give you a concerned look. When he turned his back to you, you shot Selena a look that she’d describe as pure terror.

“This is the Chameleon.” you whispered and watched her eyes grow in shock.

“Maybe he’s not here. You’ll be fine.” she whispered as she squeezed your hand under the table before looking back at her date, Maxwell.

Sure. What were the chances? Besides, the place was packed. Even if he was here, it didn’t mean he’d have to see you.

A couple of deep breaths and sips of water later you finally joined the ongoing conversation that had already started between your friend and the two men infront of you.

“What about you, [Name]?” You looked at Maxwell confused, not grasping the meaning of his question.

“Oh [Name]? [Name] got her standards pretty high.” Selena smiled as she jokingly poked her elbow in your side while you shook your head no in protest. Both of your reactions got a laugh from the two men, them musing to know more about this. “She’s being modest.”

“Even if I am, I don’t think that this is the proper conversation material to talk about on a date.” You looked at your best friend with a smile.

The music coming live from the stage set a calm atmosphere as they found a new topic to converse about. Occasional laughter ringing through the busy room as they each shared stories.

Apparently Darian and Maxwell were old school buddies, having met at a private school in the States, like Selena and [Name] were too. Turns out they were two stinking rich kids, coming from old family money, so no wonder they drove expensive cars and had the money to take two middle class girls out on a date to the Chameleon. London's most pristine club and restaurant. The place where people nearly fought for a place to dine.

As the night progressed, the conversation turned back to the first one they had that evening.

“I’m still wondering, [Name] darling. What was that earlier about your high standards?” Darian looked at you with a raised brow and a cocky smile. By now all of you had some drinks and the awkwardness had fallen away.

You smiled as you shook your head. Memories you had tried your best to bury crawled back to the surface. Darian held your gaze as he watched you sink into memory.

“I think Selena just meant that my ex treated me very well and it’ll be really hard to find someone to top that.” you politely brushed the topic off but someone besides you protested.

Now it was Selena's turn to aggressively shake her head as she spoke up, a wicked grin on her face as she looked at you before looking at Darian.

“Oh no, her ex was this extremely rich guy who wrote her songs, like the best love songs ever. Dedicated all of his songs to her when he performed. Named his one and only album after her, with songs all about and for her. He didn’t make a single penny from it either, because everything he earns from it gets put in this girl's bank account.” you stared at your drink while Selena spilled the beans, your cheeks flushing a bright red as you felt your throat swell as more memories flooded back to you.

Somewhere far away you heard Darian and Maxwell’s reactions, you were too zoned out to make out what they were saying. Never would you have thought that hearing those words so literally would bring you back to six months ago, to the moment of the break up.

His father had warned you once, when you’d been dating Dmitri for only two months. He believed you weren’t good enough for his son. Too poor, too lowly born, your place in society wasn’t prominent enough. He had threatened you, and you had Dmitri convince you that it’d be alright, his father wouldn’t hurt you, ever. He’d make sure of it himself.

Somehow you managed for almost two whole years before his father saw the two of you together again. He’d stormed over, grabbed you by your collar, raised his hand before Dmitri shoved his father away from you and took the blow that was meant for you. That however, had only angered his father more, and before you knew it you were kneeling over a bruised and bloody Dmitri.

You had taken him home, cleaned up his wounds before sitting him down for a serious conversation.

“Maybe it’s better if we… Don’t continue this relationship, for the sake of both our safety.” you had started and it soon escalated to where you were now. Both crying and unwilling, but knowing that deep down, it’d be for the better.

“So the last two years were nothing?” Dmitri’s soft, broken voice rang through the room and you shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks.

“It wasn’t nothing, it was everything, but Dmitri, look what has happened because of me.” your voice cracked as you looked at his face. Bruised and bloodied, his eyes so full of pain.

Dmitri shook his head, looking at you with such desperation that had more tears streaming down your face. He walked towards where you stood near the window that overlooked all of London from his penthouse.

“This isn’t because of you-” he grabbed your hands in his ever so gently, tears falling out of his eyes with no shame as he tried to reason with you.

“Yes it is, Dmitri! You heard what your father said.”

“So what? Why should it matter what my father said?”

“You know why. We’re done, Dmitri.” you spoke as you pulled your hands from his.

It had hurt you so much to speak those words. You didn’t want to leave him, but you loved him too much and you refused to see him get hurt because of you again.

“I promised to protect you.”

“You’ll protect the both of us if we go our separate ways.” you turned around to leave.

“Do you love me?” he asked as he gently grabbed your wrist, his big, tear filled eyes looking at you.

You nodded as you faced him one last time. Cupping his face as you looked him in the eye.

“I love you more than anything, Dmitri, and that’s the exact reason why I have to let you go.” you said softly as you kissed his forehead before turning around and making your way out of the apartment. Breaking the heart of the love of your life as well as your own.

When you snapped back to reality you found three pairs of eyes on you as you tried to blink away tears. You smiled as you stood up and excused yourself, quickly walking through the familiar sets of tables as you made your way to the restrooms.

Tears still threatened to fall out of your eyes as you looked at yourself in the mirror in front of you.

It still hurt too much to think about him, hearing Selena talking about him, and being in his place. The place where you had made so many memories together. The place where every single metre linked back to him. The fact that one unlucky step could land you right in front of him, or worse, his father.

Your heavy breaths calmed ever so slightly as you ran your hands under the cold water, trying to empty your mind from the unwanted thoughts that pried and crammed into your mind.

“It’s okay.” you kept repeating in your mind as you dried your hands and fixed your appearance. “It’ll be fine.” You whispered as you exited the restrooms, slowly walking back to your table.

“[Name]? I knew Eliza wasn’t lying when she said you were here!” Your eyes landed on a familiar figure in front of you, one you loved dearly. You reached for the elder woman, embracing her as you sighed. “Oh Maragret,” you shook your head as you pulled back, brows furrowed, “I’m so glad to see you.”

She tilted her head to the side as she took you in. You’d seen each other only once since the break-up, she was the only one who really knew all of the details of what went down. She offered you a soft, sad smile, which you returned.

“This seems like the last place you’d be after…” she left her sentence open for you to interpret and you laughed quietly while nodding.

“I was kind of dragged on a double date with my best friend, didn’t know we’d be coming here.” you smiled awkwardly as you looked around you. The place hadn’t changed one bit. The same warm lights, the black and gold furniture, the same staff, the live music coming from the stage. Though now that you looked at the stage, no one was there, but you swore there was music before you rushed off to the restrooms.

Margaret ushered you back to your table, apologizing for interrupting your date and promising to see you soon before walking back to the bar.

As you sat back down you apologized, smiling softly. Darian offered you a smile as he asked if you were alright, you nodded before Selena dragged you into the conversation she was having with Maxwell. Something about her trying to prove to him how bad the public school experience was here in the UK.

Your attention to the conversation was short cut as you heard music coming from the piano on the stage, closing your eyes as you took in the notes.

“Right, [Name]?” your eyes opened, looking at Selena and nodding.

“Mhm? Oh yeah, high school here is tragic. Terrible, really. I wouldn’t wanna go through it again, not even for a million pounds.”

Laughter erupted from the men in front of you as they watched the terror on your face at the thought of it. High school was tough.

“Do I wanna know? If this feeling goes both ways? Sad to see you go, was sorta hoping that you’d stay.”

All the colour drained from your face as the voice you’d recognize amongst thousands hit your ears. Your head snapped to the stage, and your eyes met with those bright blue eyes you knew all too well.

“Darling we both know, that the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day.”

You were frozen as you looked at Dmitri, desperately searching his eyes for you didn’t know what. Of all the voices, all the impressions he could do, his own raw voice would always be your favorite thing. He knew that, he knew that very well, and it brought tears to your eyes as you felt your throat close up again.

“Crawling back to you. Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few? ‘Cause I always do.”

The world could end this moment and you wouldn’t even notice. Everything around you fell away as he offered you a tiny smile, it was gone as quick as it came.

“Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new. Now I’ve thought it through.”

You turned your head away, breaking eye contact, looking back down at the table in front of you with big eyes full of tears. It felt impossible to breathe as you grabbed beside you, hand grasping at Selena’s wrist. A look at you, the stage, and then back at you had her shaking her head as she went to embrace you, the two men in front of you completely forgotten as your mind raced at a million miles an hour.

A young man walked up to you, awkwardly fiddling with the rings on his fingers as he shyly smiled at you.

“Hello,” he spoke up, pulling you away from the work on your laptop and smiling up at him while sliding the headphones off your head.

“Hi, can I help you?” your confused yet oh so bright smile had Dmitri look down at his feet for a second before meeting your eyes again.

“Yes, I’m Dmitri Kravinoff.” he said, looking at you like you were a flower in the midst of a rotten field.

The cool spring breeze ran through the air, blowing your hair into your face as you laughed at the young man softly.

“Hello, Dmitri Kravinoff, I’m [Name]. What can I help you with?” you beamed up at him, oh so confused at the adorable man's intentions.

Dmitri was at a loss for words for a while as he looked at you. He’d been admiring you from a far for about twenty minutes, being captivated by your beauty. You had seemed to be working here in the park cafe, writing away on your laptop, scribbling things in your notebook, occasionally sipping at your purple smoothie, nodding along to what he assumed was music playing in your headphones.

“I uhm… You’re beautiful.” he stuttered out eventually, a slight flush on his cheeks as he tried his best to hold eye contact with you, “I was wondering if uhm…” he looked down at his hands again, twisting the ring on his pinkie as he stumbled over his words.

You looked up at him, head slightly tilted as you smiled up at him brightly. “Well?” your soft voice rang through the air, bringing Dmitri back to earth.

“I was wondering if you’d let me- if you’d maybe want to go on a date with me.” the way he looked at you with those big puppy eyes full of hope had you smiling at him so brightly that Dmitri thought he might faint.

The laugh that escaped from you, along with you shaking your head in delight made Dmitri bite the inside of his cheek nervously.

“I’d… I’d love to, Dmitri.” you swore you saw him jump up a little before he balled up his fists in victory.

And so here you were, a week later, walking through the aquarium with the guy you’d been texting all week. Hand in hand, laughing and giggling as you looked at the countless fish, pointing out your favorites, and admiring the man illuminated by the blue of the water. How he knew you loved aquariums was a mystery to you but you loved it.

You’d sat on a bench in front of a massive fish tank filled with lemon sharks and countless other fish as you talked for hours, you never fell silent, and if you did it was to recover from laughing too much.

Afterwards he’d taken you out to dinner at some fancy place you had never heard of before. You had the time of your life with him, Dmitri Kravinoff.

Eventually when the awkwardness had fallen away, which only took about thirty minutes, everything he did, everything he said, came so shyly yet so naturally. He told you the silliest jokes, the best stories, and listened intently as you talked about your own life and told your own stories. Asking questions, taking everything you told him in, looking at you like you were the only thing that really mattered on this planet.

“You’re even, I’d say better, but that’s not even the right word to do you justice. You’re exceptional, special, truly captivating.” Dmitri had said as he walked with you all the way to your front door. He didn’t miss the blush that crept up on your cheeks as you smiled.

“You yourself are a lot more than the shy boy that came up to me last week, you’re… intriguing and… very charming.” you smiled up at him as you stopped in front of your door. “Thank you for today, I haven’t had this much fun in a long while.”

Dmitri basked in your words, his smile hadn’t left his face since earlier today. Just your mere presence had this effect on him that he couldn’t explain, and the way you looked at him had him absolutely in shambles, he loved it.

“The pleasure is mine, you make for a great company. I loved every single second of being with you.” He watched you raise your head, a proud grin on your face as you looked him in the eyes.

“Great, then we should do something like this again sometime soon.”

As you said your goodbyes, you quickly got on your tippy toes and kissed his cheek before turning around and getting inside of your house, leaving a flustered and shocked Dmitri standing on your porch.

You didn’t remember that Selena had pulled you away from the table and back to the restrooms. You had been too out of it to fully register what she was saying or asking you. You’d just blatantly nodded as she talked, too lost in thought as everything came flooding back to you that you’d tried to suppress for the last six months.

Everything was a blur when you walked back to the table but all of a sudden you sobered up, vision clearing, mind going panic mode when that cologne hit your nostrils.

“Darian Madden? Man you have not changed one bit!” The thick Russian accent of Nikolai Kravinoff surrounded your senses. You swallowed thickly as you let Selena walk you back to your seat, making yourself small as you sat down, hoping the elder Kravinoff would not notice you like his son did earlier. You felt Darians gaze on you, obviously confused about your second time getting emotional tonight.

“Last I saw you, you were this tall and running around with my Sergei.” Nikolai held up a hand beside him at the height of his shoulder, his smile dropped as he laid eyes on you. “You.” Your eyes slowly made their way to meet Nikolai’s.

You were certain that fear was written all over your face as you fisted your shaking hands in the skirt of your dress.

“What are you doing here? Wasn’t I clear enough last time, girl?” Your breaths came in short shallow huffs as you were at a loss for words, closing and opening your mouth as your eyes darted between Nikolai and Darian, who was still looking at you in confusion. “Well?! Answer me, girl!” You gulped as Nikolai’s voice echoed through the now eerily quiet room, countless eyes on you as he awaited your answer.

“I… Here with Darian-” you yelped and you heard the gasps from other guests as Nikolai lifted you up by your collar, thumb pressing down on your airway as he did.

“Don’t lie to me! You’re here to see my son! Didn’t I tell you to leave him alone?!” Tears now streamed over your cheeks as you clawed at his hand, desperately trying to get him to release you.

“Woah woah! Your son? Her ex is Dmitri Kravinoff?” Darians voice sounded but you couldn’t give a shit about him right now. Your vision was blurring when you suddenly felt a fist colliding with your cheek.

Screams erupted from around you and you heard the people scrambling to get out. In the corner of your eye you saw Maxwell pull Selena away from the scene. Your knees hit the ground and you gasped for air, a hand coming up to your cheek as the pain spread through your whole face. When you pulled your hand back you saw the red of your blood on it and you looked up at Nikolai, who already had you back up on your feet, ready to strike you again.

“No!” Before you knew it you were pulled back, vision going dark as your face was pulled into a soft material, a hand on the back of your head cradling you closer, shielding you from the danger.

When Dmitri’s oh so familiar cologne hit your nostrils you closed your eyes, relaxing in his arms as if you hadn’t not seen him for six months, as if you weren’t broken up, as if his father hadn’t just almost choked you into unconsciousness before hitting you.

“Dima…” You croaked out as a sob echoed through your chest, your hands tightly gripping at his dress shirt, tears staining the black material. You heard him quietly shush you while he pressed a kiss to your forehead, holding you close and safe. “I…” your voice was quiet and strained, the words refusing to come out of your mouth.

“Pathetic, always standing up for the trash.” you heard Nikolai scoff at his son, his footsteps approaching. Dmitri let go of you, gently pushing you back to where a now very shocked Margaret was standing.

She took you in her arms as she watched how Dmitri dodged his fathers blow, instead only returning the favor and hitting his father square in the face.

“You don’t get to talk about her like that! You do not get to hit her!” you heard Dmitri raise his voice at his father. Dmitri never raised his voice, not at you when you accidentally broke an expensive vase of his, not when you broke up with him, and especially never at his father even he belittled him to no extent, but that seemed to have changed when it came to you now. “That woman is the love of my life and thanks to you I lost her, and now you dare hurt her?!”

“If you had only looked, you’d have seen how amazing she is, how smart and caring. You’d have seen how much I love her! You’d have seen how much she loved me, for me. Something you never did.” you turned your head to look at Dmitri, his back was to you, but you could see Nikolai, glaring at his son as the blood dripped down his chin. “If you ever so much look at her the wrong way or dare lay a finger on her again, I will make sure it’s the last thing you do, papa.” You saw Dmitri ball his fist again, his fathers blood on his knuckles.

Nikolai didn’t say a word before standing up straight and nodding at his youngest son. He just turned around and walked out as if nothing happened, not caring about the few remaining people that scrambled to get out of his way.

“[Name]” Dmitri’s hands cupped your face and you looked up at him with tears still in your eyes. “[Name], my love, I’m so sorry.”

His gaze was so soft, his demeanour was so gentle. He was filled with fear as he searched your eyes, wiping away the tears that fell from your eyes.

“I love you,” your whisper was barely audible but it was loud enough for Dmitri to break into a smile, his eyes lightening with happiness and hope as they darted to your lips. You returned his smile, clasping your hands on his shirt again before pulling him down into a kiss.

God how you had missed this. The way he held you, his gentle nature, him.

“You toughened up…” you whispered as you broke away from the kiss, giggling when he immediately chased your lips with his own, too eager for another kiss.

“I promised myself if I ever got a second chance at making things right, I would not let him ruin it.” one of his hands brushed a lock of hair behind your ear as he spoke ever so softly. “I had to protect you.”

“Honey there was nothing for you to make right.”

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

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dont translate, modify or repost my work. you do not have permission.

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#dmitri #dmitri kravinoff x reader #dmitri kravinoff #dmitri smerdyakov #dmitri kravinoff x you #dmitri smerdyakov x reader #dmitri smerdyakov x you #kraven the hunter #sergei kravinoff #kraven x reader #fred hechinger #fred hechinger x reader #dmitri kravinoff x reader angst #angst #sergei kravinoff x reader #sergei kravinoff x you

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