#honestly all these could apply to each of them but they REALLY apply to two

[sarcasticmirage]

i have a huge fma and rgu post coming out i thought i'd prime with a dumb meme i couldn't stop giggling abt

[bunnwich]

Rituals☁️(Leona x Reader)

Leona is low on spoons after the Tamashina-Mina tournament and needs some attention. Also what better way for him to sneakily court his favorite creature?

Curated from my 200k+ words Leona x Yuu fic

Characters: Leona Kingscholar x Yuu!Reader (GN. No physical description for Yuu. Yuu knows massage therapy.)

Words: 3k, 3rd person

Notes: I saw a meme the other day about how: “Liberalism leaves people’s bodies when mental health starts to affect someone’s hygiene” and I thought of how the fandom used to treat Leona. Also, I really wanted to make the “he uses you as a pillow” cliche not icky. 

Tagging: @comingyourlugubriousness @nammanarin @twst-the-night-away @twstinginthewind @ephemii @the-monday-witch @anevilbunnyinthehat @stagefullofsilly @theshipthatneversetsail @patrioticarcreactor @ice-cweam-sod4 @beaniz @the-nightingales-song @efsstash @cyn-write @porcelain-animatronic @lowcallyfruity @bestmannequin2018 @h0rr0r-10ver-69

-

It was baffling enough of a request that Leona Kingscholar invited Yuu to his home, but even more so was the thing he asked of them now.

“What? Am I your servant now, too?”

“No, course not.” He seemed deeply offended at this implication, nostrils flaring in indignance while his ears flopped backward against his hair. “I’m…askin’ you.” His ears flipped back up as he took a step closer, awaiting their response.

“Wait. You're serious…?” Yuu asked with a crinkle of their nose.

“Please…?” The word was barely audible, the man’s green-eyed stare never breaking from theirs. “If you’d be so kind…” He smirked, putting on an air, propping a hand on his hip. It was a warm day at the palace and he donned a pair of loose linen pants and a matching cream-colored tank top, all embroidered with gold.

Yuu swayed their head back and forth while they considered the idea, unimpressed by the sudden “princely” act. What was he up to? They gazed down at the object in their hand as if it held the answer. Well, it wasn’t often that they heard that word from Leona Kingscholar. “Fine, okay.” 

Was it really such a big deal, brushing his hair?

–

The hammock below the two of them swayed with both their weights as they sat face to face, each teetering on each edge of the colorful canvas. Late afternoon light filtered through the stained glass over all the greenery of the palace gardens, gilding everything it touched. 

Sighing, Yuu made another move, leaning forward to grab another section of the dark waves from the man’s shoulder. They hadn’t even ended up using the brush much so far. The only thing it had been good for was hitting the man when he talked back. 

“Well, the good news is…I got most of it.”

On their way here, Yuu grabbed their bag, bringing it with them to the gardens. Luckily, they kept a few favorites with them at all times. A small vial of rosehip oil; that would work. It could be used for both skin and hair in a pinch. Removing the dropper from the bottle they dripped some more into their palms, rubbing them together before applying it to the end of the man’s loose curls.

“Stinks.”

Yuu couldn’t help but roll their eyes at him. “It’s just rose. It’s nothing compared to that eye-watering cologne you bathe in every day. They sighed, working it through his thick tresses in the silence, pulling it all through to the ends of each section. “...I shouldn’t really be brushing it when it’s all tangled like this, you know.”

“Tch, I know that,” He said indignantly, his lips pressing into a small pout, eyes downcast to watch them work. “Everyone just assumes my hair is like my brother’s…”

They pressed their lips together. “Hmph. Then do it yourself, next time, huh? ” Letting out a huff, they released the bushel of soft curls, the dark curtain falling over Leona's neck. His hair honestly wasn’t as bad as he had made it seem. It just needed some moisture and careful detangling.

“Naw, why would I…when you’re already doing it for me.” The man reclined forward, propping his elbow on the canvas. “Mmm.” He watched them move on to the next section, meticulously separating the frizz and smoothing it over with the oil. Releasing a small sound in his throat,  he stared up at them with lethargic eyes, seemingly in a trance. 

Yuu shook their head at his comment, knowing that secretly he was just eating up the attention.  Keeping their eyes down on their work, they were careful not to pull too hard on his strands.

Leona muttered something as his lids fell completely closed, the end of his tail tapping on the edge of the hammock by their knee. A steady drumbeat.

They took their time with the rest, with only the noise of a few birds calling and Leona’s occasional sigh or grumble. It wasn’t long before, their lids lulled down too. It was relaxing in a way, quietly detangling someone’s hair.

Every once and a while their eyes flitted to the man’s face, catching the little twitch of the corner of his lips. After Yuu was done the detangling, they pulled two equal parts of the bottom sections forward, trying their best to get them even. They stuck their tongue out while they focused, before braiding them as neatly as they could manage, in the way he normally wore them. 

“There, you look more like yourself...” Yuu shrugged when they were done, tugging on one of the braids, and making sure the man wasn’t actually asleep.  “Better?” They crossed their arms, raising a brow over at him.

“Yeah.” The man opened his eyes slightly, the edge of his mouth falling into a crooked, but satisfied smile. “You did good.” His voice crackled just like the way a warm fire would. Like the bonfires at Savanclaw. He may have been sincere, but everything Leona said was always dipped in just a little bit of patronization.

Yuu palmed him on the forehead, pushing his face away slightly before letting their fingers drift up to his scalp, moving some of the hair out of his face.

“Hm?” He questioned, shifting slightly, turning his head to look up at what they were doing.

“Are you uh- still having those headaches?” They began to work their finger into his crown, between his twitching ears, pressing gently down on a few familiar pressure points. “I have to tell you, I’m the best.”

“I always have a headache when you're around.”  He sat up erect, suddenly seeming full of energy, grabbing their calves and yanking them closer to him, practically into his lap. He kept going until the backs of their legs were hooked over his thighs. He chuckled in delight at their bewildered deer-in-headlights reaction. 

Yuu froze at his boldness, pressing their lips together into a pout as they stared up at him with blinking eyes. 

“Don’t be all shy, now. Prove it. I think I got a big one coming on.” He purred at them.

Still playing, hm? “Hmph.” They huffed out a breath at his shenanigans.

Leona didn’t let them get far though, keeping his lock around their ankles, leaning over to study their reaction. “Feel free to say no.” He released them, holding his hands up innocently. “...If you’re not up to the task that is.” A bit of his white fangs gleamed as his sneer widened, leering at them through his dark lashes.

“You-” Yuu stuttered, resigning themselves. They were falling for it. This is what Leona was best at: pushing others into “proving themselves” by gently prodding them from their comfort zone.

“Fine.” Saying nothing more, they only lifted their hands to evaluate him once more, taking in a breath before tracing their fingers down the sides of his muscular neck. 

Ah, the man seemed a bit surprised to see them agree, but he quickly masked it with another smug smile as he lifted his jaw to accommodate them.

Leona’s skin was much warmer than theirs and surprisingly smooth, his excited pulse fluttering under their fingers. “Hm. You are tense.” They muttered aloud, pressing their thumb into one of the hard muscles there. “That hurt?”

“Ack, what do you think? Beast…” He hissed, his ears lowering slightly, grabbing their wrist to stop them.

Yuu smirked, most people didn’t expect that kind of strength from them…until they gave them a chance to prove it. “Sheesh, sorry you big baby. I was just askin’.” They rolled their eyes and swatted his nosy hand away. This allowed them to focus again, laying their palms on both of his broad shoulders. 

They could see it clearly now, his shoulders were rounded forward, and his left side was higher–signaling to them he probably held more tension there.

The man was studying them again, one grumpy eye barely open. 

Yuu chuckled, no one expects how much it hurts. Though as much as they enjoyed hurting the man, they went in softer this time, gently kneading his shoulders and neck, before they bothered to poke him anymore. As they worked closer to his jaw, they became enveloped in his signature smell. Traces of cinnamon, hints of orange, and star anise lingered on their fingertips as they explored his exposed skin, taking care to not pull on the golden necklace that hung from his neck.

“How…did you know?” Leona asked through a groan.

 They had hit the right spot.

“The way you walk, for one. You know, with your head forward. For royalty…your posture is terrible, you know. You heard Vil. Anyways, I can just tell by feeling most of the time.” Yuu added, continuing to work on the tightest areas first.

“Tch, you’re one to talk,” He said through his groans, brown ears flopping to the sides as he began to relax into their skilled touch. “...I recall us both getting reamed by Schoenheit at those practices.”

“Hey, I’m not the one on trial here. You asked for my expert opinion.” They continued, reaching around to the back of the man’s neck to rub circles in the base of his skull, moving up into his thick hair.

Leona made a rumbling noise in his chest at this, letting his head nod forward until he went completely limp in their hands. Somewhere, between the ticks of both their breaths, he had slumped his whole weight on them. A whole lion in their lap.

“Mmm.” He nuzzled his forehead against Yuu's shoulder, moving his hand from their calf up onto their arm, running a finger across the loose thread of their sleeve.

Yuu tensed, the man’s warm breath tickling their neck. It felt a little surreal to think such a powerful mage lay against them now like an oversized house cat. It was sort of an honor that he felt so relaxed around them. Sort of. 

They shook their head, trying not to giggle, and straightened their back to accommodate the new weight. Yuu kept on working as if nothing had changed, ignoring the fluttering in their guts that his soft breaths over their cheeks stirred. 

After they finished with his scalp, they worked back down to his shoulders, grabbing both of them and twisting them to one side, signaling wordlessly for the man to turn around for them. The hammock squeaked as he rearranged himself and Yuu pulled his head down into the center of their lap.  

Some people they had worked on, like Jack, could never fully relax for them, no matter how many times they reminded him to. However, the oxymoron of man before them seemed to have no problem flopping over like a sleepy kitten, ready to be petted. 

Going by cat behavior, he had shown them his belly, a small sliver peeking from the edge of his top. Now, with a completely malleable lion in their lap, Yuu couldn’t help but smile. He was totally at their mercy, moving whichever way they pulled him.

Their fingers made their way up and down his neck shoulders and even a bit of his chest, respecting the barrier of his tunic's low neckline.

Every once in a while, Leona’s lips tumbled open with a deep rumbling sigh of relief, pressing himself in their touch with each stroke, seeming to crave more and more. Their face grew hot, some part of this felt…too intimate. No, no. It was just a massage, but the man’s touch-starved reactions were becoming harder and harder to ignore.

 It was only when Yuu’s fingers reached up to his jaw did Leona open his eyes once more.

As their fingertips settled on the sides of his face, his shoulders went stiff under their care, Leona’s pulse ramping up for the first time during the massage.�� His jaw tightened as they brought their fingers up to the temples of his grimacing face, trying to soothe him. 

He couldn’t be nervous now, could he?

“You…hold a lot of tension in your face too,”  They said calmly, urging his head to the right side, “Especially your…jaw.” They moved down to press their thumb into his cheek, easily finding the small, rigid muscle on the left side of his face.

The man grunted, “Easy.” 

Yuu shook their head again and eased up some. “...Just breathe.” They sighed, rolling their eyes as they massaged his jaw. “That right there is probably a big culprit of your headaches, you know.”

“Hmm,” He replied thoughtfully, his face softening some at their more gentle method. 

Their fingers worked each side of his face some more, then trailed slowly up his nose, rubbing circles across his sinuses. When they made their way up to his “third eye” area they rubbed extra hard to make a point, trying to get him to relax once more. “Sorry, just trying smooth out that permanent wrinkle you got there…”

Leona scoffed, dipping his head back into their touch, and closing his eyes shut again. “Tch, yeah well, every time I come home to visit it ages me five years, so...” He chuckled.

Yuu let out a light chuckle too, taking the strokes they made on the man’s cheeks upward and into his hairline, brushing against his scar a few times.

Leona’s forehead creased, an uncommon expression gracing his usually stern or sarcastic face. His broad nose curled in discomfort and they could see his eyes flicker anxiously under his lids. He was even holding his breath.

“Hey…Just breathe I told you!” They repeated with another soft laugh. “It helps with circulation.”

“Mmph.” The man said nothing and grunted at them before exhaling loudly. They would have thought they were doing something painful to him by his expressions.

Yuu tilted their head, realizing exactly what this was all about. They cupped their palms around his cheeks before dragging the stroke up, one of their fingertips running over the edge of his scar again to test the theory. 

The skin was dryer there and slightly raised. It created extra pull whenever they went over it. But, besides that…it was no different than any other part of his face. The Leona Kingscholar couldn’t be self-conscious, could he? No one ever really commented on it, and it surely did nothing but, to quote Rook: add to his “handsome and rugged charisma.”

But, the more they thought about it, they could understand why he was so dodgy about it. A memory like that, couldn’t have been pleasant.

The more times Yuu went over it they sensed a strange pull of energy from the area, like deep space. They were sure it was something the man had buried deep, so he could convince himself that he didn’t remember what actually happened anymore. 

Can’t remember every little scratch, he said once. How many people knew the real truth, they wondered. Or if there were any legends behind it in the palace.

“You don’t have ta’ touch it.” The man blurted out, trying to keep a straight face. His lips pressed together hard before he feigned a usual smug grin. “Though, I know that you’re a professional and all.”

“Wha-” Yuu almost wanted to roll their eyes at him for how dramatic he was being but, they didn’t. 

 “And- Why…would it bother me?” They asked casually, continuing the face massage as normal.

“Hmph.” Leona let out a huff, one side of his mouth arching upwards into a small smile. “I…see.” When he opened his eyes again, they were shiny, reflecting the tree tops around them. “Not many people have uh-”

 “Feel better?” Yuu lifted their hands from his face as they finished, saving him from the awkwardness of elaborating further. They had seen plenty enough to know how relieved he was at their response. That was enough.

“Mmhm.” He answered, clearing his throat before sitting up to face them again, the whole hammock groaning in response.  “....Thank ya.” He muttered, reaching behind to rub the back of his neck. “Much looser now-”

Leona sighed, eyebrows curving up over his eyes. Then, all at once his gaze snapped up to them, taking them in from head to toe. In one smooth movement, he let his body settle down against theirs, his strong shoulder pressing against them. 

Yuu’s heart hammered against his, mirroring the same fervid beat. No, this was more than just hair brushing. They hadn’t considered the implications until this moment, those of beastmen courtship and personal hygiene that they had read about. The concepts were often interlinked. Sacred.

A hug? No, he was just still just staring at them now, inches away, like a cat ready to pounce. The usual slits of his eyes were dark pools of space, reflecting back their own baffled expression. 

Yuu swallowed. They were so gridlocked by his intense stare, it was hard to speak or even breathe with him pressing them so firmly to the canvas hammock. He seemed at odds with something, his worn gaze downcast. “W-What…what’s wrong, Leona?” They whispered through an unsteady chuckle, managing to keep their head.

“Nothin’. Nothin’ at all.” He whispered, letting his weight sink further into them. There was a peaceful smile on his face as he reached up to grab a section of their hair from behind their ear, twisting it between his fingertips, tail flopping behind him lazily.

It felt like they were being chosen for something.

“Wha-” Their eyes widened, it took them a whole 30 seconds to realize the man was braiding the pieces together, calm and methodical, like when he was arranging his pieces on a chess board. Part of the plan. It was obvious Leona knew how to braid hair but it was…surreal to behold it.

When he was done the corner of his mouth turned up more, creasing a dimple into his cheek. His eyes fixated on the sight of his results, he was so…proud of his work.

Yuu didn’t even have time to speak before he turned his head away, lying his cheek on one side of their shoulder once more. He had done it so casually as if he had done it a hundred times before and would do it a hundred times more.

They understand why he did it, the two of them were…a matching set now.

He chose them. Their heart squeezed as the man draped his arms around their waist, locking them in place once more as something shifted between them.

 Leona’s cocky air had all but dissipated. “...Is this okay with ya?” He muttered so softly they almost missed it. He was asking permission, asking if they would accept him.

“Oh um…Y-yes.” They let their arms fall around his back, tugging on the end of his curls as they held him. Yes, he was getting way too comfortable, but it was their fault for allowing it, right? Yuu laid their head on his, letting him know for sure that: yes, it was okay.

“Hey, I know you're not falling asleep right now.” They grumbled playfully, tugging on his hair and furrowing their brow. Meanwhile, they curled their legs around his torso like a koala as he held them tight, making sure there was no space between them.

They knew it was all a lost cause. He had set the board how he wanted. He would not let them go again, and they didn’t want him to.

“Shh,” Leona mumbled into their shirt, inhaling deeply. “ You’ve been real workin’ lately hard, right? Rest wit’ me.”

“But I-” Yuu yawned, their eyes watering some as they did. The action had forced their eyes shut. The breeze also was not helping, rocking them both gently inside the hammock.  “Fine. But just for a little while.” They breathed out, their own shoulders finally relaxing. Yuu’s head slumped over to gently bob against Leona’s. 

“You win…this time.”

The man only chuckled at their admission of defeat, a warm note buzzing against their chest. 

The last thing they saw was the colored glass of the greenhouse, filtering in pink light through the serrated leaves of the palm trees.

Leona’s sighs of contentment traveled through their body, as his warm fingers kneaded into their back. 

--

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 4: market day

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

You've heard a lot of people say that the honeymoon period only lasts the first few weeks of marriage and that after that things can start to get complicated. But the rule didn’t seem to apply to you.

Maybe it was because you two were young and enthusiastic, because you were too busy missing him to think about arguing, or maybe it was just that you really were made for each other.

You often tried to steal as much time as possible from your husband’s demanding job because being an FBI agent often took him away from you, and sometimes having a few domestic moments was all you both desired.

Grocery shopping was one of those activities that really made you feel like a married couple, and it saved you many trips to the store for food.

“Which do you prefer? Soy or almond milk?”

“Soy has phytoestrogens and more health benefits in moderate amounts. Almond is for people looking to maintain weight, and although it’s healthy, it’s low in protein.”

“Soy, got it,” you said with a small smile at his intellectual response.

Every time it was grocery shopping day, your job was always to push the cart and grab an item or two within reach, but most of the time, Spencer was the one in charge of selecting your groceries. After all, he had a pretty extensive knowledge of the benefits of each food. He always wanted to take care of you, and since he was often away, one way he could do that was by ensuring you were well-nourished.

“Look, I found some tea,” he announced happily, making you look away from the yogurt section in the fridge to pay attention. “Lavender, passionflower, valerian…”

“For your insomnia?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, dropping the boxes into the cart “And some mint and lemon for you.”

“You know me so well,” you smiled sweetly, leaning on the plastic handle, letting him gently caress your cheek.

You two had known each other for so many years that there were details about each other you knew by instinct. You knew his favorite brand of coffee, how he liked it with a specific number of sugar spoons, that you needed to buy him two sets of socks because he always liked mismatched ones, and you knew the exact spot on his head to stroke to help him fall back asleep after a nightmare. He knew you hated wearing shoes indoors, that you had a specific way of sleeping, and that you hated the smell of cinnamon. There were so many things you did as if they were second nature that it seemed impossible to list them all.

The truth is, people at Spencer’s work were quite surprised to find out that not only did he have a girlfriend, but that you were getting married. The event was private, very intimate, and not at all pretentious because that wasn’t your style.

You both had no problem moving into a new, slightly more spacious apartment, now that everything was doubled. But you were managing it quite well, to be honest.

You continued strolling through the grocery store, staying close to your husband, and then remembered you needed some bread. You pushed the cart over and stood next to a woman who seemed to be in a dilemma, staring at two loaves of bread as if trying to analyze which was better.

“The best one is that one,” you said, hoping not to make her uncomfortable. She looked at you confused, so you decided to speak again. “It has less sugar and the necessary carbs for good nutrition. There’s a study about it; it’s true.”

“Oh, sweetie, I wasn’t looking for the healthiest, just the one with the best quantity and price. It’s for my kids. Those children could eat an entire loaf in a day, and I can’t afford that.”

You laughed honestly and gave her a look of understanding. She was a bit older than you but not old enough to be considered elderly.

“I think you’re right.”

“I love my kids, but I won’t lie… sometimes they drive me crazy,” she confessed, and you both laughed again.

“Darling, do you want me to make pasta for you this week? Rossi taught me a recipe that…”

He trailed off when he noticed you had company, and for some reason, he suddenly felt shy.

“That’s fine, love. We can eat whatever you want,” you replied kindly. “I already have something to go with it.”

You winked at him when he noticed the wine you had tossed into the cart, and then he smiled and went off in search of the necessary ingredients.

“Your boyfriend?”

“Husband,” you corrected her. There was a strange pride in saying that.

“Husband! Oh, that’s so sweet. How long have you been married?”

“We’ll be married for four months next week.”

“Young love, so beautiful,” she sighed, as if nostalgic for a time that now seemed too far away. “And he helps you with the shopping?”

“I help him, actually,” you laughed. “He’s the one who selects everything. Before we got married, I had the worst eating habits, and he hated that. So we try to eat better now.”

“Marriages are so different now,” she said, and upon hearing that, you expected to endure a conservative speech and internally dreaded it. “My husband never joins me for things like this; he’s not even interested. In this and in much more, to be honest. And it’s nice to see that girls nowadays can have these kinds of relationships. You know, where they’re supported.”

Somehow, that touched your heart, and suddenly you wished you could hug the woman, but you held back. Then, you looked over at Spencer. He was in the vegetable section, apparently comparing two bags of spinach. You could recognize him in a crowd without a doubt, with his slouched posture, his messy hair (freshly cut, by the way), and his peculiar formal attire.

You had always appreciated having the man in your life, even when you didn’t have a romantic relationship, but you had never stopped to think how lucky you were that he had decided to love you.

“I’m glad too,” you said in what was barely a whisper.

You didn’t say anything else. The woman said her goodbyes kindly, and you just smiled at her, too busy gazing at the man with loving eyes. You stood there watching him, and when he approached, he couldn’t help but notice your strange expression.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing. I just had a very revealing conversation with that woman.”

“Huh, yeah?” he hummed, dropping a collection of items into the shopping cart “And what was it about?”

“About you,” you answered casually, lifting your hands to place them on his chest and then sliding them to his cheeks “Talking to her reminded me that you’re the best husband in the world.”

Carefully and affectionately, you stood on your tiptoes and planted a loud kiss on him. Spencer laughed as his cheeks blushed, returning the favor with a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t know if I am, but I try.”

“And that’s why I love you,” you confessed sweetly.

And then, it was Spencer who felt lucky.

[caitlinbueckers]

take care.

caitlin clark x reader type beat PART 2!!!!!!!!

6.2k (what the fuck)

ok. Listen!!!!!! This is long time coming and also is a disgusting amount of words and dialogue and like weird subtextual angst masked with smut honestly it’s pure delusion on a page also ending only slightly abrupt bc it was unfathomably long sorry

wasn’t gonna make the sequel so in depth like ??? How’d this one shot turn into a fic 😐 no Clue but all i know is that insecure sort of self deprecative caitlin clark with this soft dominance of a reader combined with two bitches who won’t admit their feelings is my crack!!!! let me know if a part 3 is even needed or if yall even care teehee

no beta simply just vibes

ANYWAYYZZZZZ love u guys sorry that i suck!!!

two weeks.

it had been two weeks since you’d texted that number with your name, a simple contact, and she’d liked the message, and that was it.

it wasn’t like things immediately changed— you still, somehow, made your flight despite the throbbing headache that reverberated in your skull, and you still were able to make sure you didn’t leave a toothbrush or a stray apple watch charger in the hotel room but, miraculously, you find a way to not mention a single thing about your one night stand until you touch down at home; manchester, connecticut.

you tell your friends all about it— probably missing some implied understanding about nda’s— and pretend like it isn’t that big of a deal that one of the biggest basketball players for women’s college wasn’t knuckles deep inside of you only the night before.

but it’s a big deal. and you know it is.

like her breath, fierce and rampant with each spellbinding curl of her fingers, wasn’t startlingly still replaying in your mind, her mouth soaking in each warm, huff of air that you expelled in the form of a moan. like she hadn’t watched as she fucked you, dark eyes somehow impossibly darker as her biceps flexed, the line of thick, corded veins that traveled her muscular arms somehow jumping with each pump of her fingers inside of you.

that the same, somehow blushing girl that stood in the elevator had regarded you like something to be challenged, like something she could fight for. something she could win.

you didn’t forget a single thing. not in the way she leaned down over you as her fingers quickened their pace, the force of it eliciting grunts from caitlin’s mouth as she tore you apart, piece by piece, licking the remains as her teeth grazed over a nipple, the sensitive jut of your collarbone.

“so pretty,” she’d murmured against your skin, almost absently, like she didn’t even realize she’d said it. “you like that?” obviously, it went without saying that you did (very much), but really, you’d learned that she wanted to hear you say it. it was in the same way that - as she’d recounted to you drunkenly in a hotel bar that night - she needed to hear the audience cheer. that the fans hollering and shouting was when she felt like she was on fire. it was the external validation that urged her forth, amped her up, kept her alight.

somehow, you could see exactly how it applied to her then, her eyes quick to scan over your face— your lips, to kiss them, before she’d ask again, urgently, “you like how i fuck you? huh? tell me.”

you’d nodded furiously, words tumbling past your trembling lips, “y-es, fuck, yes—“ god, it would’ve been impossible to pull more than a few words from you with how wrought you are, body unrelentingly tense, shaking and weak until she’d coaxed another orgasm out of you, her name sounding broken on your tongue as her fingers slow, the unrelenting grind from the heel of her hand finally relaxing to ride you through it.

she was unforgivingly good with her fucking hands, you’d come to realize.

and yet, beyond all of that, much to your friends dismay, you don’t call her.

no, in fact, you mute her name on twitter and block the IOWA womens basketball page because it becomes suddenly like a frenzy. she’s everywhere, more than usual, like some sick sign from the universe and as much as it seems almost the complete opposite of how you really feel, you decide that you can never see her again.

it’s not like the sex wasn’t phenomenal, or that when it’s late and your hand sneaks into your pants, your imagination doesn’t always seems to conjure up tall, pretty girls with brown hair and green eyes, or that she didn’t completely captivate you from the moment she’d looked at you, dumbfounded and sheepish in an elevator with a blush staining her cheeks.

it wasn’t that. in fact, it was the complete opposite.

it was because the moment you’d seen a picture of her online after the fact, looking tougher than you knew she was, you’d realized that the last place you’d seen her was from between your legs, and it felt like a fucking soul crush.

because she was beautiful, and smiling, and playing up that celebrity, all-star mentality that you knew she could back up, but that you realized wasn’t her in the slightest. because now, you knew her— sort of— and saw her in ways that nobody else had— that you knew of. more so, that she’d learned your body in the span of a night and then just left, and somehow that just wasn’t fucking fair.

there was a shroud of mystery that surrounded her, even if she belonged to the world, to her supposed boyfriend, to everyone, really— way more than she ever belonged to you, even if just for a night.

so you go on about your life, and you pretend you don’t notice the draft is coming, or that soon, the already well known athlete was gonna be world renowned, taking her biggest leap to play professional, and you’d be nothing to her, nothing but the girl she’d screwed in a hotel room when she’d gotten too drunk after the final four.

and sure, you find solace in it. but there’s also this lingering, nagging feeling of being unfinished, like there’s still more. there has to be more.

so, no, you don’t call her.

but, somehow, you find last-minute tickets for the draft— which, in the grand scheme of things isn’t completely selfish. the moment you’d seen nika muhl and aaliyah edwards up for the league, you’d known that you were going to try for tickets. you just, probably, maybe, weren’t actually expecting to hookup with the projected top number one draft pick, either.

but you did, so, you buy them anyway.

you let your friends tease you for picking a dress that’s sorta slutty and for spending more time than you should doing your makeup at whatever hotel you picked in boston, only a few blocks from the draft.

all in all, it goes exactly how you expect. caitlin gets number one draft, which only slightly makes you antsy in your seat, thinking about the fact that she doesn’t know you’re there, that she doesn’t know you saw her win big and that she possibly could’ve been thinking about anyone fucking else. your favorites, nika muhl and aaliyah edwards, get teams that you’re more than happy to celebrate, and watch paige bueckers and azzi fudd get shoutout after shoutout. it’s good, it’s fun— but fuck it.

you think you miss her. maybe just her fingers, or her mouth, but you realize in a weird swell of recognition as the guests are ushered out, your head spinning back every few moments to see if you can catch a glimpse of her, that you do.

you miss the cait you’d met— you just didn’t know the one that sat in the room now.

then, it’s all sorta funny, in a way, considering the situation you find yourself in once everyone begins to disperse, limos and SUV’s pulled up and parked outside of the venue, crowds of fans standing around the barricades to sit for their favorite athletes to pile out of the doors, to go to some super elite, exclusive party that you knew you had no place at.

you don’t expect any special treatment, and you don’t expect a text or a call— which is good, because they don’t come.

no, actually, they don’t come until later.

later, after you’d spent the rest of the night in a nearby bar with a couple of girls you’d met leaving the draft. they’re funny and they’re nice, gushing about the picks, talking miles a minute about all their favorites and making you pretend that the tequila doesn’t burn just a tiny bit more when they mention caitlin’s name.

it doesn’t come until you’re showered, dressed in sweats and pleasantly drunk, scrolling through the shitty channels when your phone buzzes once, then twice, then three times and it almost makes you click the lock button, shove it over in assumption of your friends bothering you about an unsuccessful night to woo a pro athlete— but then it happens again.

you can’t really decipher what makes you look at the random assortment of numbers and it suddenly click. maybe it was because you’d spent the past few weeks in a complete back and forth, scanning over a crumpled napkin with the name ‘cait’ and these specific numbers beside it.

you know who it is, and despite yourself, your heart catches in your throat.

“hello?”

“you made it.” her voice is deeper than you remember, and it doesn’t fail to make your cheeks burn almost immediately. fuck.

“huh?” you play dumb, mostly because it’s more embarassing to admit that you’d came all this way for this, for the slim possibility that she’d fucking notice.

“tonight, i mean. you- i didn’t know— i didn’t know you were coming.” you stay silent, because what else is there to say? had she seen you?

but she continues, “you should’ve told me.” and then, “i, uh— i would’ve liked to see you.”

she’s pathetic, and so are you. a hand comes up to shove back your hair from your face, breath increasing only slightly. “i have a hotel, like, smack in the middle of boston if you’re… like, if this is an offer.”

now, she’s silent. there’s a shuffle on the other end, a murmur of a voice that you don’t recognize, before she’s back, her voice closer, softer. “yeah. yeah, i’d, uh, i’d like that.”

you open your mouth to say something, probably alcohol fueled and embarassed, but she’s speaking now, a bit quicker, “just text me, yeah?”

then the phone clicks, and for half a second, you stare at the home screen as if this couldn’t possibly be fucking real.

but it is, miraculously, and god, it makes you kind of fucking horny to think that she’s willing to see you at half past three in the morning, so your fingers fly over the keyboard in record time— a pin being dropped through imessage with a confirmed ping.

it’s fucking go time after that.

you find the lacy, practically nonexistent underwear you’d brought, forgo a bra entirely, and try to find something a little less boring than your sweatsuit, before you realize with a sickening realization that the revealing dress you’d worn for the draft was the outfit you’d expected to see her in, and as much as you cared, you kinda fucking didn’t— she’d been inside of you, by now. clothing didn’t seem as pressingly urgent as it would otherwise.

it’s only about twenty minutes before she texts you, a simple ‘here’. you send a brief message, just the number of your hotel room, and pretend like your heart doesn’t practically pound out of your chest for each passing moment, eyes flickering from the door, to the window outside, the city bustling even at a time like this.

she knocks only twice, and it startles you enough that it takes your breath away.

the moment the door swings open, it’s like a wave of calm washes over you, a weird sense of solace that you hadn’t realized she could offer, mostly due to the fact that before you stood the caitlin you’d remembered from all those weeks ago, after final four. not the exquisitely dressed, superstar you’d seen earlier that night, in shades and clothing that you could never afford with an attitude you didn’t recognize.

instead, she stands before you at her startling height, in sneakers, sweats and a windbreaker, a hood over her head and her hands tucked into her pockets. once again, looking impossibly small for someone of her stature and it takes all that’s within you to not kiss her right there.

“you got here quick.” you mention, still only slightly breathless as she offers a smile that resembles more of a smirk than anything else.

“i was scared you’d fall asleep,” and it sounds as sheepish as it makes you feel.

you step back, let her walk in and inhabit the space, only slightly making your palms sweat to have her here, in front of you again.

you decide to take the initiative to plop onto the bed, looking up at her as you toy with a stray string from your hoodie, “i wasn’t gonna fall asleep,” you retort, looking up at her, catching a glance that you don’t break, “congrats on top draft pick.”

now, she’s blushing, shaking her head and pursing her lips, “still feels unreal, dude.” she murmurs, looking down at her feet before slowly, her movements unsure, she sinks onto the bed next to you. “you’re unreal.” you say quietly, smirking at her, because you know how she’d cringe at it, scrunches her face before shaking her head. “god, not by a long shot.”

you open your mouth to say something else, maybe tease her about it, but she clears her throat quietly, “but i don’t, uh- wanna talk about that right now?” she offers a mirthless laugh, “is that stupid?”

she turns to look at you, and it happens to only be a couple centimeters from your face once you look up, shake your head “then we don’t have to.” you agree quietly, and it’s impossible to miss the way her eyes flicker down at your lips, back up to your face, and it’s equally as impossible to ignore the flip you get in your stomach before you surge forward to kiss her.

she kisses the same, tastes like what you remember, if not marked by whatever cocktails she must’ve had, whatever liquor still sat on your own breath, and it washes over you greedily that you do fucking want her— more than whatever you tried to convince yourself of during the past two weeks, more than what you’d downplayed to your friends.

“been thinking about you,” it comes out rushed, murmured against caitlin’s lips, shakily from your own mouth as she lets out a slow, wanton breath. you turn to crawl up on your knees, swinging over her hips to push her back against the bed.

she makes a noise like it stems from disbelief, almost like denial, but doesn’t pull away, not even once as her hands, fingers long and palms wide, spread beneath your sweatshirt, span across the expanse of your back and grasp.

“i did,” you insist between breathless kisses, foreheads pressed together hard as her hand races up the front now, over your stomach, palm your breasts and elicit a pitchy gasp from the immediate contact of her cold hands to your sensitive nipples, “every fucking day.”

“shut up,” she denies it again, which only slightly irks you because as cliche as it felt to say during a makeout, it’s not like you would lie about how much you’ve craved this— or more specifically, her.

you try to really expand on the thought, but it becomes almost impossible when her lips attach to your jaw, suckling until her teeth are teasing the sensitive, thin skin beneath your ear, and you make a noise too embarrassing to recount before you can gather your words. “…missed you.”

caitlin makes a noise in her own throat, something between a growl and a groan as she arches her hips up slightly to press against you, before she shakes her head, pulling back only to look up at you from your position on her lap with this sick, almost torturous gaze. her eyes are lidded and feverbright, cheeks pink, and lips glossy, kiss-bitten.

“you shouldn’t think about me.” it comes out quick with her breath, her thumbs still slow in the circles they rubbed around your nipples, making your head arch back with a whimper before you swallow hard, her words almost too quiet to hear, “not worth it to think about.”

the admission surprises you, “fuck off, clark.” you snort, the words fall lazily out of your mouth, “so humble, huh?”

she gets hot at that, and you can tell from the way her face is pressed into your neck, the way a heat radiates from her cheeks right at that moment that makes your stomach swirl, your own hands coming up to tangle into her hair.

“…i‘m serious.” she insists, still mouthing against the same area of skin that you knew would be bruised, and pretend like her totally incognito, self deprecative words weren’t somewhat confusing and worrying you.

she was fucking perfect, didn’t she realize that? how could she not when practically everyone else in the world thought the same? maybe you were being dramatic or maybe you were just horny, but it felt achingly real in the moment that she knew that, even if she wouldn't listen, even if you'd have to show her instead.

“cait, i’m fucking serious.” you counter now, using the hands in her hair to tug, exploring the reaction that it elicits, which is something that apparently caitlin enjoys by the soft whine that jumps from her throat, the way her breath quickens, the wide eyed look she gives you.

it makes your head spin, your thighs clench involuntarily. she seems so fucking innocent, and yet, all knowing at the same time.

“is that… bad?” you continue, your own head ducking to latch your lips against her neck, feeling her pulse jump beneath your teeth, “that i… touched myself and thought of you?” maybe it was the cocktails or the fact that this could be the last fucking time you see her, but it’s like word vomit— every thought and emotion that comes to you is spoken without hesitation, and apart of you wonders where you’d gotten such newfound bravery.

caitlin must be wondering too.

“not bad,” it comes out of her weak, weaker than she is right now, melting under your mouth and the tight grasp you have on her dark hair, the way each strand twines around your fingers to where even the most minuscule move of your fingers elicit a huff or a sigh, “it’s… fucking hot, what the fuck.”

it fuels you, in some way, to hear her validation. for some reason, you don’t try to hold off much longer— your own sweatshirt is being pulled off in record time, tangled in your arms momentarily and flung across the room as you go to reach for hers, “off?” you hum in the midst of the movement, to which she nods, quickly, obedient and yet, so unruly.

she was a dichotomy of everything she stood for. a shy girl pretending to be a superstar, and yet, even in moments like this, quiet and intimate, it felt like a superstar pretending to be shy. you knew just how easily she could unload, dominate the situation— pin you down by your wrists and eat you out within an inch of your life, because she had.

but now, she’s relenting, and it makes something within you burn, strengthening wildly to try and tame that beast that you knew sat fervent beneath her skin, to try and prove that caitlin didn’t always have to be caitlin clark, she could just be this.

just a pretty girl you wanted to fuck.

besides, maybe you were making up for lost time, returning favors you’d been too drunk and blissed out to give the first time around when she’d finished you off with fucking ease.

as soon as she’s exposed, her black sports bra yanked off with little effort to reveal her breasts beneath, pale and dotted with freckles, a red line from the band of it standing starkly against it, you find your mouth lowering to suckle on a spot near her nipple, teasing against the bud and licking gently at the skin until you hear her breath increase, breaking only slightly into a whine that makes you swallow hard.

you pull away, just to look at her— dark eyebrows furrowed, focused in a concentration that you can only discern as someone fighting for the need to control, to dictate, to display the same use of her strategic authority that she’s used time and time again on the court.

you decide in that moment, that you won’t let her.

“let me take care of you?” it comes out softer than you mean it to, and you can see the trust building within her, slow to register as safe— and you don’t blame her.

you both are practically strangers, knowing nothing of each other than drunken conversation that had turned too deep, nothing but the sound the other made when they came, the faces they made. it was intimately unfamiliar, and perhaps that’s where caitlin had found the solace.

maybe she knew that at this point in her career she wouldn’t have normalcy. it was practically impossible for any person knowledgeable in sports to not know her, or even just of her. to a further degree, even most, with the exception of being well versed in women’s sports, had at least heard of her, and that was simply a piece of herself that had been taken, one she’d never be able to retrieve.

but this, this might be the one standing, single piece of lucidity and realness that was hers— locked away in a hotel room in a city unfamiliar to the both of you, and it’s enough.

it’s enough for now.

“you wouldn’t even text me back.” she counters, but it’s clear in her tone, regardless of how ragged, that it’s to prod at you, and it works.

“shut up.” you murmur as you press your hands to her shoulders, push her back against the bed to straddle her fully as you brush your thumb over her abused nipple, reddened and too easy to bruise. she moans when you press on it, and it elicits a smirk to your face that’s impossible to hide. “you’re here now, aren’t you?”

for some reason, it causes a sad sort of smirk to her face that’s impossible to miss, regardless of how quickly she covers it with an exhale of want, one that you know isn’t feigned, “where else would i be?”

there’s a million answers to that. press, interviews, sleeping, with her fucking boyfriend, but you settle for a small smile, “good point.”

you hope it centers her a little when the bruising press of your fingers translate into something gentler, more of a caress against her chest that you trail up to her face, and it almost twists something inside of you to see the way her face relaxes, leans against it as if it was some type of treatment or medicine to some ailment you weren’t aware of.

you go to pull away, to begin working at the ties on her sweatpants to unwravel her even more, lost in the softness of the moment and yet still blinded by the hazy lust until she speaks, quiet and barely there.

“did you really think about me?”

it stuns you for half a second, because the simple confession hadn’t registered to you as something she’d recall, something she’d look to expand upon.

but you’d always been honest, brutally so.

“yeah,” you say it as if it was obvious, when truly it wasn’t, and more so, probably wasn’t reciprocated, “i had fun,” a gross understatement, a weak replacement for all that you really wanted to say. then, if not a bit more revealing of your inner voice, “didn’t you?”

caitlin makes a noise that resembles a huff, but it’s not impatient, it’s honest. you wonder how often she gets to do that. “you know i did.” it comes out like an admission of guilt, under her breath, yet her eyes are unrelenting as they are sincere and it makes your eyebrows lift.

it makes your breath halt slightly, “is… not having fun in your contract or something?” you lace it with a quiet chuckle, mostly because you don’t want to make it too deep, too revealing to ask, but part of you thinks it’s expanded beyond that already, had been since she'd called you at three in the morning, just to say that she'd seen you, that she wanted to see you again.

her hands rise from her sides to rest against your thighs, and the touch is welcome, one that you relax into before she manages a half smile, “might as well be.”

but then, you see that surge of confidence again, something in her eyes glimmering as she squeezes at the skin of your thighs, hard, but your eyes remain fixed, even as hers drop, almost shy in her show of strength. “it’s why… i’ve thought about you like, everyday since... final four?”

that certainly makes your breath halt, invoking a reaction in your stomach and between your legs that you choose to ignore as you swallow, thumb still slow in its brush against her cheek.

“yeah?” it comes out of you rough, and she grants you with a nod as a response, then, after only a moment, she whispers, an echo to your words from before. “so... is it bad that i missed you too?”

“god, shut up.” you repeat again, as if somehow that was a valid response to being told such a thing by a girl you’d only had met twice, by a girl you knew nothing about.

you wanna ask her a million questions, know anything and everything: ask her if she’s actually into girls, if she’s actually into her boyfriend. mainly, if she’s actually into this pedestal that she’d been thrust into, if the fame was too much, maybe if it was never enough.

but you settle for shutting her up for now, because you can see the way her chest rises and falls rapidly, can hear the strain that it took to admit, and you realize, selflessly, that maybe you won’t let yourself ask for more.

not now, anyway.

instead, you lean up, uncharacteristically tender as you slide your lips against hers, feels the way she relents against you, slow and subservient.

“can i show you how bad i missed you?” your fingers tease the edge of her sweatpants, and she lets out a creaking groan, head tilting back and eyes closing as if in exasperation, before she nods. “please.”

you get right to work.

it takes only a little bit of adjustment to get her pants off of her long legs, to reveal the simple pair of black boy shorts that she wore, before you can finally tease a finger against the soaked fabric, reveling in the wetness that you knew matched your own.

her hips jump up, caged in only by your legs as you arch your middle finger, riding the knuckle against her heat, watching the way her face twists only slightly, lips parted in silent noises that you wish you could beckon out of her.

it is fun, you realize in the back of your mind, to pull her apart like this. without the inebriation clouding your mind from the last time, you feel almost startlingly cognizant of your own movements, of her reactions.

when you finally pump your middle finger into her, you notice the way her stomach and abs flex involuntarily, the way her voice pitches up and almost keens in her throat, catching with every stuttered inhale.

when you lean down to press your lips against the slickness of her cunt, press the pad of your tongue to her clit, she says your name— loud. it’s something mixed between a whine and a plead, long, dexterous fingers tangling into your hair and holding on tight.

you devour her, tongue slow to slide against her slick folds, to feel the surge of wetness spill out around your fingers, mixed with your own saliva. you drink her in like she’s a potion, or an elixir, something that you swear you can find and savor if you just go deeper, harder.

it isn’t until you feel her thighs tense, clamping around your head as she lets out a sound close to a gasping breath, marked with a moan that makes your head spin— she sounds so fucking desperate, and you’re bound and determined to give her exactly what she wants. what she deserves, really.

she comes on your fingers, in your mouth, and you relish every bit of it, quick to clean up the excess with fervor. she’s sensitive still, her breath huffing out whenever you breach too close to her clit, but you’re gentle. that’s what this was all about, right?

it’s quiet after the storm, your wrist sore and mouth wet as you sit up a bit, eyes careful to observe how hard her chest rises and falls. the way her hair, having fallen from its loose bun, sat in messy waves around her face, nothing like the impeccably straightened strands you’d seen at the draft, and it sort of makes you smile in an off handed way that you can’t explain, especially not when she opens her eyes finally to look at you.

“quit.” she says, and there’s a smile, tired and breathless, teasing at her own mouth as the hand that had fisted your tangled locks finally released, dragging down the side of your head to push your chin away lightly,

you can’t help but snicker, raising a brow, “what?” she rolls her eyes, and you repeat yourself, this time with a snort, “sorry, you’re just— you just look pretty like this.”

it’s hard to pretend that something inside of you doesn’t wince when her smile drops slightly, and you pretend like it isn’t uncommon to compliment the stranger you just ate out with such sincerity and honesty.

she’s slow when she says it, “...you always look pretty.” and it sounds wistful, murmured in a way that you can’t help but flush a bit at, as you roll your eyes now as if to return the favor, “you’ve only seen me twice, drunk, in sweats.”

but for some reason, that makes her smile return and for half a second, you let yourself pretend.

that maybe, this random series of hookups between you two weren’t fueled by some weird attraction slash escapism slash secret infidelity that had to be shared between you, or tucked away from the world. for half a second, she wasn’t caitlin clark, women’s basketball superstar, future member of the indiana fever.

she was cait, a girl you’d met at a bar that you’d hooked up with who just happened to see you again, and maybe, if you were a little dumber, and maybe a bit drunker, you’d admit to yourself that there’s a part of you that likes her, and each time you’d thought about her in the past few weeks, it had become achingly apparent.

but, you’re smarter than that, and definitely not drunk enough, so you pretend that her next words don’t make your heart skip multiple beats, as if it doesn’t cause a flutter in your chest.

“still,” she scoffs, and she’s sitting up a little, her hand having laid lazily against her stomach, reaches over to grasp your wrist, almost absently, “plus, i saw you earlier tonight, in that dress?”

it shouldn’t make you almost stunned into silence, but it fucking does.

“sorry— not to like, be weird and say i was looking for you but, i dunno, i just— i remember you saying something about UCONN, so i just assumed you'd be ther—“

you’re kissing her before even you can register what she’s saying, or why she says it all in this shy, almost sheepish tone that fills you with a flood of endorphins, butterflies being set alight inside of you.

“god, you’re so…” you’re not sure where you’re going with it, but you can’t help the way your hand comes up to hold the side of her face, dip your thumb against her bottom lip as if to make her taste herself, all as your eyes watched, lidded and fixed.

then, you exhale, only a whisper, “i’m gonna get you in trouble.” you manage to say, despite the very obvious fact that watching her suck on your finger is doing unspeakable things to you, before you drag the wet digit out, her bottom lip pulling only slightly.

“with who?” she says it almost as if you both know the answer, both thinking about the multitude of bigger names and bigger people who had long since been the determinant in caitlin’s career— at least from the little that you knew— and it lapses you both in a measured silence.

until she speaks, and it’s quiet, and sincere. “you’re just like… the only thing in my life right now that has nothing to do with basketball.”

it's a compliment, wrapped up in something a lot more sad, a lot more sincere. it shouldn’t make you want to hug her, but it does, so, you do.

your arms twine around her neck slowly, your face lowering to bury against her neck, just beneath her chin, and you can feel her chest vibrate slightly with a chuckle or a laugh, before her arms are around you, squeezing you tight, “don’t go all sappy on me, dude.” she murmurs, but it’s present in the way she doesn’t pull from it, or really, the way she fucking clutches onto you, almost desperately, that you pretend once again that this doesn’t mean anything. that this is traditional, hookup behavior, and that once she leaves this hotel room, everything will shift right back into place.

a place where caitlin clark gets to be caitlin clark and you get to be you, and there’s no overlap.

except, that doesn’t happen.

no, instead, once you pull away from the hug she kisses you again, hungrier this time, her hands sliding from your back to your hips so she can hook fingers in the edge of your panties, urging you to sit up on your knees so she can pull them down.

instead, she lets you ride her thigh— both hands firm and strong, her own biceps lfexing to keep you glued to her thick, muscle corded thigh, your cunt unforgivably wet as she dragged your hips down, over and over.

your head tips forward to press to her forehead, and she kisses you through each desperate cry that escapes your lips, the friction and slide becoming wetter, slicker by the moment, drawing these high pitched noises from your throat that you know caitlin is drinking in, all while she murmurs to you in this soft little voice, “show me good it feels, lemme hear you.”

in the end, you both pass out there, somewhat in a laying position as caitlin lays on her back, arms loosely wrapped around you, who’s laying stomach down atop of her, a thigh lazily hiked up to hang against her hip, your face pressed into her neck.

it’s fucking bizarre when you think about it.

how you both had talked more than you ever had before, and when you look back on it in the morning, nothing but a ghostly reminder of her presence by the sheets that lay strewn about, the undeniable smell of sex and sweat that still hung in the air, you pretend like you don’t realize just how little you still knew about her, and just how much that you wished you knew.

you also pretend like you don’t miss her, or that when you’re gathering your clothes to check out, a soreness in your body unlike one you’ve really ever felt, you’re practically stunned to see her faded, gray, IOWA shirt, thrown lazily over the desk chair that makes you wonder just how accidental it was for her to leave it.

you wear it anyway,

it isn’t until you make it back to connecticut, making up some excuse for your friends as to how you hadn’t been able to meet up with caitlin, how she’d been too busy anyway and you’d spent the night drinking at a bar, that maybe, just maybe, there was a part of you that wanted to keep her protected, confidential.

maybe it was the post-sex fueled lust that wanted you to keep it close to your chest, a dirty secret only for you to enjoy, or maybe it came from somewhere softer, somewhere that remembered how caitlin had such little privacy, that it almost hits you like a pang just how much you wanted her to still have that, even if it was at the expense of not seeing your friends faces when you told them that you guys had hooked up, again. even if she'd never know that you didn't say a word.

fuck it. it’s the least you could do.

you try not to think about her for days really, not until you’re doing laundry and come across the grey t-shirt, deciding only then that you’d pull up your goddamn bootstraps and finally send a message.

it’s cheeky, the wrinkled t-shirt thrown on over your underwear, leaving your thighs on display and the peek of a hip that you know is intentional before you snap a picture, sending it with little hesitation, and subsequently throwing your phone afterwards at the bed.

“you left something”

cc loved your message, “you left something”

“i know”

“guess i’ll have to come get it back”

it’s stupid, you know it is, but it makes you smile, typing with an urgency only known when texting back the pretty girl you like, before you send it, bottom lip teased between your teeth.

“how close are you to connecticut?”

[lxdymoon0357]

Hi, Navi! May I request some headcanons for Felix Chamberlain from I have become the hero’s rival with a transmigrator!reader who just wants her favs to be happy and to have a peaceful life too, but somehow gets the magician’s attention anyway? It would be interesting if one of the original male leads had interest in the transmigrator!reader, though it’s all up to you! :)

Felix Chamberlain X Transmigrator! Reader HCs

▼ You were ECSTATIC to be a transmigrator and that to your special manhwa!! You were definitely gonna help Irene, Claudia and Felix and you really wanted to see Irene and Felix's love bloom in front of your eyes and luckily you were a middle-class person and you applied to be Claudia's playmate or something...

▼ You quickly got close with her and Irene and you three were the ICONIC trio!! and you quickly became friends with Felix as well, you'd help Claudia escape the male leads as much as you could by remembering the manhwa!

▼ And you slowly started developing feelings, before it was for him like a fictional character, but now for real....But you were afraid that after this finished, you'd be thrown back into your real world, so you didn't act on your feelings...

▼ You became very close with them and eventually told them about you being from another world, Irene was VERY happy to learn someone was from her world, and you couldn't bother to explain to her how she was also a part of the manhwa, so you went along with it!

▼ Also Irene was mean to end up with Felix, right? Yeah, it's not like the manhwas you read where you might end up with the character when their love interest is RIGHT THERE! But he seemingly never got close with Irene in a romantic path and neither did Irene...and this confused you...

▼ Felix would love to bond with you by asking you how you used to live, what you used to eat, where you lived, what you looked like...and whom you dated, yes he's jealous of them...don't worry...

▼ And soon you confessed and you started dating, it was such a big thing for Irene and Claudia who had been shipping you two since day 1 and Lerase himself was quite happy as he seemed to have taken a liking to you as well...

▼ He would love to hear stories about how you lived, how things are different in your world and whom you hated and loved and liked or some random stories from childhood...He wanted to know what you are like before you came into his arms in this world.

▼ He would have a portrait of you painted on what you looked like before, and he gets a smaller copy on a page and he sleeps with the smaller portrait beside his bed! He can not get over the fact you looked so cute!

▼ Irene and you would often reminisce on how life was before you came here and how much you miss things from back then, but you both are so utterly grateful to be here and be in love with the Chamberlains...Yes, Irene liked Claudia...

▼ Oh btw, Benjamin took a weird liking for you and Lerase apparently didn't like that....and crushed his skull in his bare hands, of-course you didn't see him crush his skull, but you were there during the aftermath and god in your eyes does Felix look hot covered in blood...

▼ Oh you got Irene and Felix and told them how in the original story, Irene and Felix were meant to be together and how they both....yeah...of-course those two looked a bit grossed out and a felt a bit weird, because first, they don't like each other, they like Claudia and you respectively and they can't honestly see themselves together, no matter what you say or do...and you honestly find it funny and bring it to make the two cringe up and look grossed out...

▼ Claudia loves to hear about the pretty dresses and what women can do and can't do in the modern world and how much people wanted her and Irene to get together and sh's happy to hear that

▼ In all honesty, it's a adventure everyday with the trio and you being with them! Double dates, double couples and quadrouple trouble~

[coolprettyleo]

the traffic lights didn't know - begin again au ☆

wc: 1.2k

tw: depression. heartbroken. lmk if theres more

hughes sister x ryan leonard

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

frankie hughes was in a weird place in her life.

she didnt have the feeling of dreading to go to hockey practice anymore, and call her crazy she missed that feeling. not the sport, she wanted the sport dead in a ditch for what it did to her, but she missed the feeling of hating something so much.

she thought about directing her anger towards drew. but she was way to heartbroken to do that. she wanted to erase all her thoughts of drew, but he invaded every inch of her; her heart, hips, body, and love. there wasn't anything he didnt touch or get too.

frankie was starting to get depressed because she felt like her days were on repeat. over and over again. the only light of her day was when she would see ryan, or whenever he texted her back, and depending your overall happiness on a boy was not in any way smart.

she felt like nothing in her life was okay and resorted to asking the traffic lights if it was all going to be okay. news flash! they didn't know.

at the moment though, she was dressing up for a lunch...meeting with ryan. she wanted to say date, but ryan wanted nothing to do with her romantically, till she was fully over drew.

she wasn't but she thought she was. which is why she had been feeling blue. its not like she still wanted drew though. she just felt embarrassed and insecure. and the fact the reason he didnt want her, was because she was dumb?

I mean frankie knew she was ditzy. her family has always said that her blonde was showing, whenever she was being slow. but thats just family teasing. hearing other people talk about how dumb you are makes you want to crumble and die.

she was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard a buzz coming from her bed. it was her phone, which had a text from ryan, saying he was outside.

she quickly finished applying her lip combo and sprayed her favorite perfume, and rushed out. her favorite handbag of course coming in tow.

she loved when her and ryan, were able to hangout. he was always busy and his schedule was always jam-packed so days like these were the best because she finally got too go out and enjoy life.

she had been trying to enjoy it on her own though, she's resorted to taking the long way home from class.

"hi ry" frankie said as she got into his car.

"hey, why are you all dressed? you know were only going to chipotle"

"yes i know. i can read! i honestly just dressed to kill my time. a girl just cant get all cute for no reason?"

"no- I mean- you can. you look cute- i mean you look good." Ryan stumbled face red as he drove.

frankie loved how he'd get all flustered.

"you think I look cute" frankie said, she needed that compliment really bad.

"yeah, you always look cute" softly smiling as he looked over at her, at the red light.

this is why she loved to see ryan. he always put her in the best moods. he made her want to break through the windows she had boarded up and see the love the world was capable of giving. he had the goofiest, cutest smile and freckles that made her want to kiss everyone of them.

she hadn't realized they were starring at each other, till the car behind them honked and cut them out of their trance. both of them turning away with red faces.

"are gabe, will, and jacob coming today?" frankie asked as they pulled into the parking lot. she liked to hang around them, they were all so funny and in a way reminded her of her brothers.

"uhm no, I thought it could be just me and you today. if thats okay- I can call them to come. but lowkey will and gabe are busy with class, but I can make jacob, if that would make you feel bette-"

"ryan! im okay with just us two" she said laughing at his rambling.

"sorry" he cringed.

he opened the door for her, as they walked into chipotle.

and load and behold, drew was in there. laughing with aram in all his glory. she felt like she saw drew everywhere, and the only thing they shared was this damn campus.

she looked back at ryan with a glare.

"did you know?" frankie asked as he followed her sight too drew and aram.

"I swear I didn't. I wouldn't do that to you. we can go somewhere else" he said hoping he didn't just ruin all his chances with her.

as much as frankie wanted to run away and get drunk, she knew the morning would be right around the corner and it wasn't going to change anything. he still wouldn't be hers; not that she wanted him to be.

"no, its fine" she said still walking in. ryan following after her like a puppy. they both ordered and as she was paying she heard ryan dabbing them up.

"you guys wanna sit with us?" drew said motioning over to frankie. he honestly didnt think there was a problem within them.

"uhm-" ryan looked back at her.

"we already planned on going to the park" ryan said as he waved goodbye to them and met frankie whereas she had been filling her water cup, that was full of sprite. she refused to pay for a drink.

"where we sitting" she smiled at him.

"I actually thought we could go to centennial park" he said as he guided her out.

"what- I was fine with sitting in there" frankie said feeling her heart drop because maybe ryan was embarrassed to be seen with her in front of drew.

"drew asked me if we wanted to sit with him"

"oh."

"yeah, I didnt think you wanted too"

"I could of sucked it up"

"you dont have to though"

"no- I want too. I need you to know and see that im over him"

ryan sighed. he knew she wasn't, and he wanted believe her, but he knew her all too well.

"okay" ryan said to frankie.

"okay?" frankie asked confused.

"your over drew"

"I've been saying that"

"then go on a date with me?" ryan asked.

frankie hesiated. did she really want to start this relationship with ryan on a bad foot? it was all going to go bad if it was doomed from the start. she didnt have any romantic feelings left over for drew, but every time she saw him, she had to act like everything was okay; when it wasn't.

"see I knew it! theres my answer" ryan said pulling frankie out of her thoughts.

"ryan" she sighed. if the story was over why was she still writing pages?

"its okay frankie. i already told you i'd wait for you, however long it takes" ryan said looking at her seriously.

her heart fluttered at that, and she softly smiled at him.

"i won't make you wait long leonard" she said pholding out her pinky.

"and I'll hold you too that" he said locking it around hers.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

this idea came from @crazy4minty !! she ate with this lol. i had never made the connection... im seriously thinking about renaming the au to death by a thousand cuts. anyways I have a really bad fever right now, so im probably done with writing for today! <3

[kazvha]

Hope you had a wonderful day! I was so excited for this opportunity. so I have a prompt where the reader and eleceed guys get stuck in a closet or smth and due to the lack of space they cannot move further away from each other. Then as the characters try to figure out how to get out of this place, the reader mentions that they like the cologne of the character which leads both of them to turn red. I think it would be cute! anyways, I won't keep you for long. I hope you have an absolutely amazing day! baiii :33

Summary: Forced proximity with them

Including: Kayden, Kartein, Inhyuk, Muse

Notes: Hi, this is such a cute idea! I chose to write this prompt for these 4 guys, I hope you enjoy my take on this. Have an amazing day as well!!🤍

Kayden was doing pull-ups in his cat form, using the wardrobe rail of the closet. When you came into the closet to ask him something, the doors closed behind you and didn't open again when you attempted to push them.

So Kayden changed into his human form to try out his luck too but he failed. The space you two shared became even tinier since he wasn't a cat anymore. With each movement your elbows touched with his.

"We have to wait till Jiwoo comes home. I really don't want to destroy his closet." He said as he looked down at you. You hummed in response and catched a whiff of his fresh cologne. "Wow, you smell really good." You complimented him right away and felt your face heating up a bit.

Kayden's eyes widened in surprise, but his surprise quickly turned into cockiness. "I get that a lot hahaha!" He chuckled as the color of his ears turned red. He was so grateful that there was no light in the closet.

Kartein and you were on a trip together and you just found out that there was only one bed in your hotel room. Asking the manager didn't help because every other room was already booked. So you proposed that you both should sleep on the bed, on separate sides of course. You knew how much Kartein valued his sleep and you also didn't want to miss out the comfort of the bed. Kartein agreed to share it since you weren't a stranger to him.

You snuggled up under your blanket on your side of the bed as Kartein's pleasant floral scent engulfed you.

"You smell amazing. How do you manage to smell that good even after going to sleep?" You were honestly curious.

Kartein turned towards you, with a red face and frowning expression. "Were you sniffing me?"

"What? No!" You cried out completely flustered.

Now you were frowning yourself and your cheeks burned in embarrassment. There was a painfully awkward silence between you two until you heard a barely audible "Thank you." five minutes later.

Inhyuk is building his new closet and you decided to help him. After successfully mounting the closet doors, he tries them out, only for them to not open up again.

"Well, this is weird..." He strokes his chin as he searches for the problem and finally sighs, "I think we used the wrong screws? Let's take the doors down."

You sit down in silence, unscrewing the screws as you both become extremely aware of each other's presence every time your knees touch. Sitting so close to him also makes you notice the pine fragrance he applied on himself earlier today.

"I love that scent on you Inhyuk, it really suits you.", you shyly tell him what you think. Inhyuk slightly blushes and his gaze softens.

"You really think that? Thanks, I appreciate it!"

Muse and you got stuck in the tiny pantry of the cafeteria. You were looking for a midnight snack when you spotted the janitor who did his nightly patrol, so you quickly hid in that little room.

"It's a door that can only be opened from outside. Whose idea was it to put such a door here?" Muse was clearly irritated. And you also whined. "I didn't plan on sleeping on the floor tonight. All I wanted was a snack!"

"Let's just hope whoever finds us here tomorrow morning doesn't like to gossip."

"Great."

You two sat there in silence, back to back. The only thing you could hear were Muse's long fingers tapping against the cold floor. Then you heard his voice say, "You smell nice."

"What?"

Muse cleared his throat as his cheeks got a shade darker. "You heard it, don't let me repeat it..."

"Thank you I guess." You laughed and felt an unexpected warmth flood your body. It was a good thing you couldn't see each other's face you thought.

[raisin-shell]

Bayverse TMNT head cannons that no one asked for. 👹

Listen, and I myself have been guilty of it, we all have over romanticized the boys and we do it all to often because we come here for, what we each believe that is, a perfect world. But let’s just back up a moment and think about it logically… if logic applies when it comes to walking, talking turtles. How would it really be if you met and happen to fall in love with one of the turtles? In reality? Let’s dig into it.

Master splinter may show you kindness and may even favor you, but he will never agree with one of his sons having a relationship. It’s against everything he has taught them and that will never change. It also puts his entire family at risk whether you like it or not.

You will never be able to introduce him to your family or friends. Again they work in the shadows for a reason. You can not simply parade your boyfriend around nor show him off.

You can not tell a soul about him or that you’re even dating him. In fact you can’t tell anyone you’re dating at all unless you want to lie about it and compromise his position.

He can’t take you on dates. Well… not normal or formal ones. Although he can get creative in his own way. But date night is few and far between because he has the city to protect.

His duty as a ninja and a protector of the city will always come before you.

His love for his brothers and father also come before you.

His brothers, much like splinter, don’t approve of your relationship for the same reasons. It compromises their most powerful weapon… secrecy.

He’s a ninja. Sneaking into your home is a cake walk, but your ceiling better be tall. Be prepared for him to bump into things unintentionally of course.

Pray to god he never has to take a shit at your house. Be prepared to do some plunging.

Buying him clothes in the right size…. Forget about it.

Your first kiss is going to be awkward. One he’s never kissed before and two your mouths are quite the size difference. It’s going to take practice.

The first time you have sex is going to be just as awkward. He’s going to be worried about his performance but mostly his size. And he’d be right to worry. He’s twice the size of any porn star you’ve seen.

It’s going to take time to adjust to his size… not just his dick ya nasty! I mean his size in general. He’s much stronger than the human man and sometimes he doesn’t know his own strength.

You can not and will not go on patrol with him. He can not and will not give you details about those patrols either.

Master splinter will limit your time in the lair. Combine that with work during the day and him on patrol all night. You will rarely get to see him unless he breaks code.

April comes before you. Casey too. You’ll have to leave the jealousy at the door.

He can not give you store bought gifts. Everything he gifts you will be hand made.

He more than likely will keep you a secret from his family for quite some time… if or when you get caught that is.

Could you handle that type of relationship? Honestly I think I could be a good fuck buddy for Raph but Leo I’d catch feelings for and I just don’t know if I could do it. Let me know in the comments what your thoughts are. 😍

[wonyopout]

(cw: semi-public sex, threesome, manipulation oops, g!p yujin, g!p rei)

dukongz being scheming little pervs to try (and succeed!) to get in your pants.

you’ve been a manager for ive for just a little over a year and it’s all been smooth sailing. when you applied for the job you weren’t a huge fan of ive and honestly your only motivation at the time was that it paid fairly well. it was of course a lot of work making sure things were in order and the girls got to there schedules on time, but honestly a lot of the time it was really fun! it also helped that as time went on you got closer to the members. it wasn’t uncommon for them to invite you out either individually or with another member or two, always citing their want to “show how much they appreciated you” or just to spend a little extra time with their “favorite” manager. while you felt grateful for how much affection the girls showed you day after day, it was important to you to keep your relationships with them professional! this was a principle of yours and you didn’t wanna break it no matter how tempting… it’d be a lie if you said you didn’t get off, at least a little bit, on how much attention they showed you and while you’d love to relish in that and blur the lines, if just for a day, you really wanted to keep your job. for the most part you would come up with flimsy excuses as to why you couldn’t stick around, it was obvious the older members especially took a liking to you but for what reason you weren’t so sure about… it was always rei and yujin who gave you the most trouble, rarely taking no for an answer. you end up getting cornered by the two after countless rejections on your part. you’re used to them being little shits and giving you a hard time but the look on their faces this time around was… different..

“don’t you think you’re being a little unfair y/n? i mean if you really cared then you’d let us do what we please right? it’d suck if what ended up getting you fired was the fact that you refused to meet our needs…”

you don’t really understand at first what yujin means, you always make sure the girls are taken care of. her not giving you a second to question her as she grabs your hand and places it on her clothed dick 😵‍💫 oh. so that’s the game they’ve been playing at. you could hear rei giggling behind you before you felt her arm snake around your waist, pulling you flush against her as she started grinding against your ass. her leaving feather light kisses along your neck,

“yujin unnie’s right you know, we’re always so nice to you and all you do is cast us aside”

you’d feel guilty if it weren’t for the fact that you could hear the smirk in her voice. gasping when reis free hand suddenly cups your clothed cunt, your self restraint immediately melting away as she pets at your clit making you whine. them whisking you off to a deserted bathroom or some dark corner somewhere so that they can fuck you silly 😋 the second the 3 of you cram into the stall reis forcing you into a kiss while yujins groping you 😵‍💫😵‍💫 to think you were so big on keeping things professional just moments ago and now you’re dropping to your knees to fish rei and yujinies cocks out of their pants hehe. taking reis cock in your mouth without a second thought, let’s put a loud moan at how wet and warm your mouth is 🥴 grabbing a fistful of your hair as she roughly fucks your mouth while you pump yujins length in your hand. yujin telling you how pretty you look getting your throat fucked, obviously getting off to watching you being used as each thrust into your hand gets sloppier. right when you think yujins gonna blow her load she’s pulling away from you only to grab you by your hips, rei still steadily fucking your mouth, and get you up on your feet. the position is awkward but you stop caring once you feel yujin yank your bottoms down and press her dick along your cunt, bumping your clit with her cockhead in the process 🥴 of course she gives you no warning when she bottoms out in one thrust, the force of it causing you to take rei’s dick even deeper into your throat, gagging you 😵‍💫 the sound of skin slapping skin and all 3 of your whines bounce off the walls as they both pound away at your holes, chasing after their own release. your mind getting hazy at the feeling of being full at both ends, your pussy clenching around yujin’s length as you swallow around rei’s. yujin drilling her dick into you even harder then before, hearing her whine out “fuckfuckfuck”, painting your tight cunts walls white with rope after rope of warm cum 🥴🥴 rei following close behind, forcing her cock as far as it can go as she empties down your throat with a groan. pulls back just far enough to let you get a proper taste of her seed, letting the head lay against your tongue as she finishes 😵‍💫

didn’t know how to finish this 🧍

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕊𝕙𝕪 𝕘𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕣 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ hi there, blade, jing yuan, welt and dan heng with a teen reader thats like nene kusanagi? :)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hey hey! And omg yes of course! I love the crossover I get from pjsk and hsr honestly ^^ So hopefully you'll like at least a bit what I wrote!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ platonic

✧ Dan Heng honestly liked your shyness, you were like the only person on the Express who didn't chat that much so he found your presence quite relaxing

✧ but if you fine silences uncomfortable, he won't force moments when you two just sit next to each other silently and relax after long day

✧ bur silence is quickly broke by you playing your games and he realizes he was wrong... you're still not this bad but when your cheering gets louder within every day, it really makes him reconsider his thoughts

✧ it certainly takes him some time but believe me, he can get used and learn how to ignore your cheering, so he's back at finding your presence relaxing

✧ he doesn't mind your sharp tongue at all, in fact he's happy you can stand up for yourself- what do you mean it's only towards people you're comfortable with?!

"Eh... they want vanilla cupcake. What? And with sprinkles... Can't you really say it yourself? You were confident enough to insult someone's whole life in there shooting game of yours."

✧ that certainly surprises him but he realizes that when someone insults you irl, he'll have to be the one to step in...

✧ he doesn't mind your passions but be he's not necessarily interested in trying them out either... he just sort of accepts it like a hobby of any other

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@miya-akane @toyaswif3y - come get your quiet but scary trabilazer!

✧ Welt is definitely trying to be supportive and he doesn't mind your shyness a bit, he finds it adorable and it makes him somehow hopeful you won't cause troubles despite being a teen on express

✧ but once you get comfortable and he hears how emotional you can get during your games? He's on...

✧ you know how parents always say "it's because of your phone"? Yeah it's him... but he just applies that to your mood swings and sharp tongue, and nothing irrelevant like stomach pain!

"Watch tour language. I understand they made you mad but you stiill shouldn't say things like that. How about you take a break? Himeko just made tea."

✧ at some point, he probably tried giving you screen time limit but he can't be too strict... so unless you're troublemaker, you'll get past few additional hours

✧ he finds it curious how your personality switches depending on how comfortable you are, but he figures out why it happens pretty quickly

✧ he'll gladly take you with express on any exploration so you can slowly get more courageful, but if you'll prefer to stay in with PomPom and probably Dan Heng too, he's not gonna force you

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@vodka-glrl - come get your father of the express!

✧ Jing Yuan is pretty interested in your personality and passions if being honest

✧ he didn't mind your shyness and when you started being playfully salty? He saw it as a little gift of seeing your real self after hard work of gaining your trust

✧ he doesn't mind speaking for you, he'll even lens you his ear what you want to say and he'll repeat it

"You know I don't mind you hiding behind me. But I'll have to ask you to not pull my hair, please?"

✧ also, he never takes your remarks too personally, he appreciates the friendly critique and knows that you're just being playful teen

✧ he loves listening about your games, movies and so on! In fact, he even asked you if he could watch or play a bit

✧ he's not great at gaming but with you carrying him, you still rarely loose and both of you have fun because somehow, Jing Yuan finds weirdest buts and easter eggs while wandering around

✧ he knows someone in Xianzhou who may share your passion for games... so he uses that to get you some new friends and hopefully to open up to more people

✧ that's really the only thing he might push you forward to, if you have trouble making friends, he has no problem with helping you find the right people

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@miya-akane - come get your soft general~

✧ at first you were nothing like Silver Wolf to Blade, but after he saw how competitive and honest you can be... he finds so many similiar traits between you two

✧ you mean games made you so salty? What's going on with kids these days...

✧ but in the end, he couldn't care less as long as you worn annoy him

✧ and luckily for him, you're still rather shy so his intense gaze seems enough to make you go away and he'll use that fact

✧ but when you start getting more comfortable around him and Stallaron Hunters... he realizes it's not so easy anymore...

✧ you're not necessarily bothering him but he can hear your insults and remarks on his persona when you talk with Silver

✧ instead of 1 game fanatic who screams, yells and cheers after every victory or death, now he has to deal with 2... great.

"Keep it down you two. Don't forget where you are and what's our mission. Just because we're having a break doesn't mean you should give away our hideout. Because I can promise, I won't save you when enemies come."

✧ he really feels more on neutral end to you tho... you may talk behind his back and cheer and so... but you never tried forcing him into games he didn't like

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@vodka-glrl - come get your cold man!

[sunderingstars]

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ CHARACTER LINES ⌝

sampo analysis m.list

— what the stars reveal: interpretative analysis, somewhat a character study, elation!sampo

— word count: 4.6k (oh my god i am insane. he makes me insane)

— overview: (as of 2.4) an analysis of sampo’s character dialogue outside of quests!

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ INTRO ⌝

I’m putting this here because I wasn’t sure where else to put it, I just wanted to point out that his character intro describes him as someone who “travels freely” between two places (in this case, the Overworld and Underworld, but could also apply to multiple states of being) as well as saying he “acts” like he is everyone’s friend (performance) and is “enthusiastically humorous” (very similar to “infectious enthusiasm”). Being good at bantering also seems very Elation-aligned. That’s all!

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ FIRST MEETING ⌝

Each character’s “first meeting” line is arguably one of their most important lines. Not only does it give you a baseline introduction to them and their personality, but it shows you how they present themselves to others (i.e. the aspects of themselves they choose to consciously, or unconsciously, emphasize when meeting someone). For Sampo, this includes all of the “perks” that come with knowing him. Business, chaperoning, conversation — these are all part of a “deal” to him, a transaction of knowing and being known.

I haven’t talked about this much in my previous analyses, but Sampo has a very specific mindset of viewing friendship as a commodity. This could easily be chalked up to his idea of business and transaction rubbing off on other parts of his life, but given the strange emphasis he places on “being friends” throughout his dialogue, I’m suspicious it might be more than that. It seems he either isn’t willing to or isn’t capable of seeing genuine human connection as any more than another deal, another façade to do business with. It may be his way of keeping people at arm’s length, or perhaps the Elation won’t let him view people as anything more than another joke, another transaction of language and Laughter to make at another’s expense. Whatever the case, he seems dead-set on including “friendship” in his package deal when doing business.

I also find it interesting how he isn’t wrong. For someone who has a penchant for distorting the truth on a whim, Sampo is, in fact, a “chaperone” and “problem-solving conversationalist.” (“Businessman” is a given, we all know how well that’s going for him given that he literally has an idle where he counts his big stacks of money.) Despite not really having to, Sampo goes out of his way on Penacony to take the Trailblazer around and show us the dream bubble — even if it’s not a “traditional” chaperone role, it’s clear he was trying to look out for us in his own way (same thing on Belobog with the smoke bombs). Additionally, he’s very adept at solving problems by sheer virtue of talking, as shown by being the archetype that’s able to talk himself out of a myriad of situations. So at the end of the day, I guess I’d have to agree with him: it is a pretty sweet deal.

However, arguably the most intriguing thing about this line is the meta aspect of it — the big picture of his selling point being multiple things “rolled into one.” I don’t want to read too much into it, but I can’t help but wonder if this “three-in-one” phrase refers to more than just his skills. After all, if a running theme of his character is being a businessman and a chaperone and a problem-solving conversationalist, who’s to say it doesn’t apply to him being a Masked Fool and an Emanator and an Aeon (or a part of one, or a creation of one, or an avatar of one — honestly, at this point I feel like we can mix and match). At the very least, it would match up with the rule of three. Food for thought!

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ GREETING & PARTING ⌝

The greeting here seems pretty standard — going into it assuming he’ll get paid, then waffling and thinking about backing out when he realizes he won’t. What’s notable here, however, is that he covers it up by stumbling out a “Not a problem!” and continuing on with us. I feel like this partially shows how much he values friendship (despite clearly still wanting a payout) while also not quite having enough spine to straight up say “no” to us. The only thing I’m not sure about is if the Trailblazer is special in this regard, or if Sampo would keep going with anyone else.

The parting is a bit more notable, especially the idea of “I’m not going anywhere.” It seems half-comforting, half-threat, like he’ll always be a constant in our lives, for better or for worse. In a way, he may be like a never-ending joke we just can’t get rid of no matter how hard we try. (Don’t worry Sampo, I would never think of getting rid of you 😌.)

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ABOUT SELF ⌝

This line, despite at first seeming like a joke, feels more personal the longer it goes on. The first “I’m an easygoing fella” seems like exactly the kind of thing a shady businessman would say when trying to drum up clients: “I’m personable,” “I look out for people,” “I’m a community man,” etc. However, by the time the line ends, it very much sounds like he’s referring to something specific. The idea of getting “pulled into everyone else’s business with nothing to show for it” sounds like a passive aggressive dig at something or someone we don’t have the specifics for. Especially with the “tsk” at the end and the repetition of “easygoing,” it almost seems like he’s trying to vent his frustration about being constantly pulled into things he doesn’t want to be a part of.

Now that we know he’s an “old timer” within the Masked Fools, this line of thinking makes sense — he’s left behind his mask, meaning he may have gotten tired and fed up with getting roped into the Fools’ shenanigans. With how exasperated he sounds in much of his Penacony dialogue, I’m not surprised he said something like this.

Going a step further, this could even apply to an Emanator being burnt out at having to deal with the Elation, or even Aha Themself feeling the constraints of a compulsory existence. I feel like Emanator or Silhouette theories would work better for this particular line, although it’s possible that Aha could achieve this level of genuine exasperation through split/dual/separate consciousness.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ CHAT: INTEL ⌝

Once again, Sampo shows how smart he is. He may be shady, yes, but he does know how to “maximize profit.” After hearing of Boothill’s run in with an Elation Emanator in 2.2, I can’t help but wonder if it was Sampo playing into this idea of selling information to multiple people — I definitely don’t think Boothill learning of the Emanator’s status was a coincidence, even if he says it was because he got it drunk. To me, this definitely reads as Sampo parceling out information in the right doses to the right people, “packaging” it in such a way that that person is none the wiser.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ HOBBIES, ANNOYANCES, & SOMETHING TO SHARE ⌝

Despite only being one line, “hobbies” sticks out to me as a potential revelation. First, there’s no mention of the passion or creativity often associated with hobbies, it’s just him stating what he believes — there’s no indication he actually enjoys it deep down (compulsory existence mayhaps). Secondly, “small talk brings big clients” shows how he focuses on the details and minutiae of the larger picture; he may not be one for flashy entrances like Sparkle (hell, his big entrance in Belobog was when he was literally surrounded by smoke) but he does know how to manipulate the odds to be in his favor. I also find “big clients” interesting. While it could just be a reference to his dealings on Belobog, I can’t help but wonder just how far this might extend. What kind of “big clients” has he brought in? Is he neglecting to mention that he’s a “big client” himself? Is he used to shmoozing in the big leagues? Only time will tell.

In comparison, the annoyance line is fairly standard. It’s a link to his shady side, the idea that he’s just a poor businessman, *sniffle,* and how could someone be so mean to such a nice fella? He’s operating in technicalities here, full well knowing why he’s considered a con-man but intentionally being obtuse about it. It is very endearing to me.

“Something to share” almost seems Robin-Hood-esque. At first, I thought he was talking about more “business” stuff, the idea of “sharing is caring, so you should share your money with me,” but the more I re-read the more I realized he’s probably getting at the wealth inequality in Belobog. He’s technically affiliated with the Underworld, after all, and his closest friends seem to be there too. Behind the fixation on profit and only doing things if it benefits him materially, there seems to also be a genuine want to share himself, to “make up the shortfall.” Even if the “sharing” isn’t coming from his own possessions, he still wants to get the Underworld the supplies and means to live comfortably, which is a surprisingly sweet sentiment. He has a heart in there, I swear.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ KNOWLEDGE ⌝

I feel like this line speaks for itself — the man is omniscient and he is toying with us. He knows way more than he’s letting on, even referencing the Astral Express as a “train” for shits and giggles. Your Elation is showing, king.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ABOUT SVAROG & CLARA ⌝

I don’t know what’s funnier: the implication that Sampo has tried to strike a deal with Svarog before, or the implication that he, Sampo “I can talk my way into and out of anything” Koski, failed. He was probably aware his conversationalism wouldn’t work on a machine like Svarog, but damn if he didn’t want to try anyways. I would pay good money to see that go down. Too bad Sampo exists in another universe and can’t haggle it out of me.

Alternatively, his line about Clara is pretty sweet. Referring to her as “our little girl” shows how he views himself as part of the Underworld — even if he came from beyond the sky, even if he integrated himself into Belobog for a larger purpose, he still cares. He sees himself as one of them. Behind the gaud and the glamor, we can begin to see that silhouette, that want for connection in the periphery, staying in the shadows because it’s afraid to step into the light. Yet, despite him even realizing it, he’s begun to integrate himself. Begun to see himself as more than just a means to an end, an instigator or a jokester or a clown. He has, in a sense, become part of the collective — a healthy collective, one big found family, and Clara is just one part of it. Beyond his knowing, he’s gone from “I” and “them” to “us.” To “we.” To “our.” (And he is also still eternally confused over how the hell to communicate with Svarog.)

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ABOUT NATASHA ⌝

I like how naturally he describes the progression of their relationship here. While it may not be entirely truthful or accurate (who knows with Sampo), it at least seems like he views his and Natasha’s friendship as an easy progression from one stage to the next. Despite it being transactional, it doesn’t really feel like a transaction, just an evolution of something whose seeds were already planted. It’s also notable that he started with medicine — not intel, not materialistic wealth like relics or Shield, but medicine. His first establishing relationship with Natasha was literally bringing her life-saving medicine. It really reminds me of how he saved the Trailblazer’s life in The Moles’ hide-and-seek daily mission; it’s the things he does in the shadows that really count, really show that he does, in fact, care. Despite what he tells you, he still wants to help. “You know how these things work” is also so funny because it’s like… no, no the Trailbalzer does not know how these things work. (Also, “arrived” in the Underworld? Interesting word choice, bestie.)

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ABOUT SEELE ⌝

I just think it’s really funny to imagine Sampo, either an Emanator or an Aeon or both, being constantly told off by some resistance fighter on a random snow planet. Like, Seele is really out here doing what 99% of beings can’t. (With Doll Theory, however, this is a bit… heartbreaking, especially “Can someone explain what I did to deserve her?” potentially hiding the deeper, more agonizing question of “Can someone explain what I did to deserve this?”. But I am choosing not to think about that right now for my own sanity.)

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ABOUT BRONYA ⌝

He really has no self-preservation when it comes to scoring big, does he? Despite how carefully methodical his endgame plans seem to be, his omniscience doesn’t stop him from throwing himself out there when he feels there’s something to be gained. It’s okay, Sampo, she’s nice. You don’t need to risk getting beat up just to talk to her, I’m sure you can arrange a meeting. (Also, I feel like this mirrors his “painful introduction” to the Trailbalzer at the beginning of the Belobog storyline — sure, Sampo had to put up with Dan Heng’s prodding and Gepard’s arrival, but he made the biggest score of all: getting to meet us. So, maybe it’s not just “throwing himself out there.” Maybe it’s all one big calculation on his part.)

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ABOUT THE LANDAUS ⌝

Gepard potentially triggering Sampo’s Elation instincts is hilarious to me. I’ll expand on it in a dedicated Sampard post, but it’s so in line with the Elation for Sampo, most likely a god in his own right, to find such catharsis in, what? Being chased around in the snow by a hot blonde guard? In terms of the wider universe, Gepard is literally just some guy. And yet here Sampo is, doing a little heehee haha and having the time of his life. It’s the little things, you know?

(On a more serious note, if we’re dealing with a Sampo who’s constantly felt like he has no control over his “enjoyment” of Elation — even a Silhouette or Doll Theory Sampo who is actively being harmed by “the joke” — then him gradually warming up to Gepard is surprisingly wholesome. Here he is, someone who has always found himself subject to Elation rather than naturally falling into it, finding a way to reclaim that enjoyment and find a genuine place for it within himself. Some sort of reconciliation, perhaps, a bit of happiness that’s his own and no one else’s, some part of a situation that he can control. The elation he feels here is not Elation, but rather a genuine feeling of connection, one not brought on suddenly by the punchline of a joke, but one that has gradually grown over time, matured, blossomed into something warm and real and comforting. Gepard has no idea, but he’s slowly mellowing out the “compulsory” of compulsory existence until it becomes nothing but a fading whisper. Anyways can you tell I love Sampard?)

I’m also interested in how Serval and Sampo used to be “good pals.” While Sampo’s idea of a “good pal” could be wildly off-base from what Serval experienced — with the likelihood that Sampo’s “we were besties” was Serval’s “he was an annoying guy who kept asking me for deals” — it makes sense to me that they might’ve gotten along at some point. Serval is a fairly casual and accepting person, so I could see her and Sampo being friends (although I don’t think she would have fallen for many of his scams). However, I definitely don’t think she’d agree with Sampo’s shady business dealings, so finding out from Gepard just how much of a criminal he is would definitely sour things. She would believe in giving the Underworlders the resources they need, for sure, but definitely not Sampo pocketing money for himself or scamming random people who’ve done nothing wrong. “Gepard’s bad word” probably wasn’t even that malicious, just a statement of fact.

(I, however, like to think that Gepard opened up about his crush on Sampo to Serval and her protective older sister genes kicked in. What Sampo is really registering is the change from “oh, you’re a chill guy” to “if you hurt my baby brother so help me god I will end your entire existence.” It is canon in my heart.)

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ABOUT LUKA ⌝

This one is another tie-in to Sampo’s fixation on business and profit. I do wonder why and how Sampo missed out on making money here, though. Perhaps the timing was off, or he had bigger things to deal with, or Luka just didn’t want to work with him for whatever reason. Either way, it’s kinda funny that he knows Luka as “that kid I could’ve made money off of but didn’t”. I can just see him hanging his head dejectedly in my mind. It’s okay, Sampo, you’ll get ‘em next time.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ABOUT SPARKLE ⌝

Sparkle is a unique case, being the only other playable Masked Fool and having a direct connection with Sampo through the organization. He seems to have a pretty good read on her, which would make sense if his status as an “old timer” includes having a lot of experience dealing with specific members of the Fools. He’s basically reading her like a book, saying: She’s all over the place, and you never have anything truly figured out. There’s also the meta commentary of “outwit herself,” referencing the events of Black Swan’s companion quest and an Inception-like folding in of all her personas. It also seems like it might be a bit of a projection: “Think you’ve got her all figured out, don’t you?” I didn’t say anything Sampo, but if this “you” is in the room with us right now, it’s okay, you can just say it. Perhaps he tried to understand her at some point in the past and it fucked him over. (Just speculation!)

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ASCENSION & ACTIVATION ⌝

Whoo boy, this eidolon activation. It’s definitely suspicious, to say the least. There’s a reason I chose it as my quote for my Elation!Sampo masterlist, and that’s because it encapsulates so much about his potential identity. There’s the fact he’s not being direct about it, phrasing it as a question where he speaks in second person, trailing off at the end; even now, he seems unwilling or unable to face the truth with his full chest. There’s also the phrase “colorful past,” which just makes me ask: How much of a colorful past are we talking? This could range anywhere from Masked Fools shenanigans to “oh yeah, I used to be an Aeon.” The fact he’s so indirect about it makes me more suspicious — it’s an extremely leading question, very smug and taunting, which makes my mind just go up and up and up the power scale list, much like “old timer” caused me to do the same. There’s just a quality to this line that basically screams, “There is something large and powerful and dormant inside of him! Be careful!”.

The ascension once again links back to money, and his trace activation is about the transactional “business” of friendship. The last notable thing here is his “max level reached,” where he expresses disappointment over… hitting max level? “That’s it? *sigh* I was just getting started,” is not the kind of thing even a regular Masked Fool would say. Again, we’re given a hint of almost incomprehensible power, the idea that the limit of the game, of the universe, isn’t enough for him. In a strikingly eldritch way, our “max” is simply a small drop in his bucket, an ant he barely even notices. He really isn’t beating the Elation allegations, is he?

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ TEAMS ⌝

Since there’s five different ones here, I’ll go through them fairly quickly:

Natasha — Reminds me of Natasha’s own voiceline where she says Sampo doesn’t like owing people things. It shows that he really does try to pay favors back as soon as possible, keeping them present in his mind so they don’t go unresolved for too long.

Hook — It’s interesting how he reacts to her in a similar way he does the Masked Fools: exasperation, but still a little fond. There’s some care, some nostalgia mixed in there, but at the end of the day he still knows that something is getting blown to smithereens.

Seele — On his best behavior. He really doesn’t want her to get angry at him, does he? 

Trailblazer — Interesting how he laughs at the beginning here. Interesting how he says, “Ha!” Interesting how this is only with the Trailblazer. Hm. That is all.

Sparkle — “Same rule as always” establishes a long-form relationship; it’s likely they’ve known each other for a long time, or at least long enough to have established “rules” for each time they fight or work together. The fact that the rule is “no backstabbing” is also fitting, seeing as Sparkle (and by proxy, the Masked Fools) are definitely the type to backstab at any given moment. The real question is: Is this rule simply a surface-level attempt by Sampo to stop from getting messed with, or does Sparkle actually listen to him?

It also sets up Sampo as at least pretending to be on the same power level as Sparkle — he’s in a position where he feels the need to be wary and on-guard around her despite occupying a potentially higher status.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ COMBAT & MISC. ⌝

Reading through these, I just felt like I was getting smacked over the head with theories. It’s like he was repeatedly hitting me on the back of the head with a baseball bat or something. Having each line side by side really makes certain patterns become apparent. Since there’s so many, I’ll go through them fairly quickly (feel free to ask me to expand on any of these if you want!):

Battle Begins: Weakness Break: “Fun” links to Elation. “Just” is downplaying the severity of a Weakness Break, reducing pain/danger to yet another joke. A somewhat callous view of life, similar to the Worm Fiasco.

Battle Begins: Danger Alert: Endless pursuit of entertainment and Elation — “the stronger the better.” Like Aha, it’s less about winning or losing, but rather the challenge and thrill of the fight itself.

Turn Begins: Line 1 — The idea of “friends” again, showing physical protection and aid to be part of the “transaction”; however “takes care of” seems less transactional and more genuine. Line 2 — More transactional with the idea of “business”; perhaps refers to violence as “doing business” with enemies, or helping the trailblazer as “doing business.”

Turn Idling: “Bring out” and “big guns” links to hidden or increased power, something that needs to be revealed. Since this is his turn idle, it gives the implication that he is “waiting” to bring out this power until the right time (though he is impatient about it).

Skill: Argument One — Silly goofy behavior. Argument Two (Delusional) — “Size” alludes to the physical changing of size between mortal and Emanator/Aeonic form.

Hit by Light Attack: Seems somewhat performative.

Hit by Heavy Attack: Seems to be overly protective of his “face” — or rather, the potential physical facade he puts up to hide his true identity from others. Doll Sampo may be overly concerned with “breaking,” while other theories may be worried about something being “revealed” if too much of his physical form is chipped away. (In a way, the avatar of “Sampo Koski” may be a mask in and of itself, able to be broken.)

Ultimate: Activate: Again with the idea of “waiting,” man is impatient.

Ultimate: Unleash: If we’re going with an Elation!Sampo theory, it seems like he may almost be alluding to Aha as “king” here, which would center themes of betrayal and switching sides. It doesn’t seem personal in this case, but rather a power/money/profit-oriented standpoint.

Downed: *Puts on tinfoil hat* Sampo could actually be referencing a “loophole payment” here; as shown in the Curio Hacker Occurrence, one of the curios given to us by the blue-haired man is “Organic Heart,” a curio that removes the golden (powerful) dice face for four turns, destroys itself, then grants two cheat attempts — if we take this as an allegory for Sampo’s existence, then he may be paying a “price” as an Emanator or Aeon to escape an unfortunate fate later on (or accomplish something impossible). In this way, “This price was too steep…” may refer to Sampo being trapped in mortal form (a more vulnerable state) and realizing the “price” he paid upfront for those cheat attempts isn’t worth it if he never gets to see the fruits of his labor.

Return to Battle: This may also link to the Curio Hacker dice faces, as a combat “turn” could also stand-in for a dice “roll” — he has been brought back to fight, and so he will continue to participate in the cycle until his cheat attempts are granted. (Also, it links to the cyclical nature of the snakes, going from one turn to the next, never able to truly die.)

Health Recovery: Another mention of transactions, debt, and “owing” — according to Natasha’s voice line about him, this is not a phrase he says lightly.

Technique: Laughter, plan and simple. The Laugher, even, if we’re feeling frisky.

Battle Won: Probably one of the biggest clues in his voicelines. “How’re you gonna win if you don’t take any risks?” directly implies a “risk” at the core of his being, some dangerous change he is making to make sure he gets what he wants. May somewhat detract from Aha theories in that Aha doesn’t seem to care about “winning,” however who knows if that mindset has changed or if Sampo simply thinks that because he is currently in mortal form. Either way, it once again links to him paying a “cost” for those later cheat attempts.

Treasure Opening 1: Good old cash reference.

Treasure Opening 2: Kinda sweet that he lets us keep it, even though it’s only because he doesn’t have any use for it.

Precious Treasure Opening: … And of course he immediately shoves us aside when it’s something he’s actually interested in.

Successful Puzzle-Solving: 1: Pretty generic.

Successful Puzzle-Solving 2: Reference to his businessman persona and how he’s made a career out of “solving others’ problems.” It may be that he’s trying to solve a problem for either himself or Aha as an outside entity (or perhaps even a different Aeon of Emanator, who knows).

Enemy Target Found: Sounds almost taunting; there’s no vocal recording in this post, but if you listen to his English voice acting it sounds goading, almost like he’s daring you to start the fight. “I dunno” is a bit more reserved, like he’s hesitating a bit, but I’m definitely on the side of “he can handle this, he’s just fucking with us.”

Returning to Town: Another third person reference! Obligatory business reference.

And whew, that’s all of it! Every single Sampo character screen voice line as of 2.4! My main takeaways are definitely the third-person references, as well as the fixation on business and profit. The lines linking to Curio Hacker especially stand out to me — “risks” and “prices” remind me a lot of Organic Heart. But I’ll save that for its own analysis! As for now, I hope this was a comprehensive-enough coverage of Sampo’s voicelines. In my opinion, this man definitely has some Elation-related shenanigans going on.

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴ thank you for reading to the end!

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© analysis by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter Three

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen*

*I say it's an OC, it's just a name and third person POV. I use minor character descriptions because I don’t get on with writing vague reader inserts/YN for long-form, story heavy fics, but I will generally try to avoid including race and body type or really any physical descriptors. I’m always open to feedback on my writing, or how to be more inclusive.

WC: 13k

Chapter Warnings: angst obviously what would this story be without it, poppy and nico having an overdue conversation, nico moping again with his big sad brown eyes, nico being jealous again, drinking, cursing, meddling friends, being stood up, mentions of controlling parents as always, a little touching maybe a little more kissing too and even more meddling friends

Summary: Poppy Jensen’s job with the New Jersey Devils was supposed to be her first big step into adulthood - a way to prove to herself and her overbearing parents that she could make her own way in life. She was never supposed to become involved with any of the players. Becoming best friends with their captain was stupid. Getting her heart broken by him was tragic. Getting knocked up with his child was just plain messy.

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Chapter Two)

A/N: I have nothing to say honestly just hope you enjoy I really don't know why I struggled writing most of this despite knowing what I wanted to do with it I think just figuring out how I want certain conversations to go and how to get from a to b is pure stresssss I'm not entirely in love with it but what can you do also proofread her? I hardly know her

but if you have anything to say pls send it my way lmao I'd really like to hear any thoughts or opinions 💓

Poppy

Poppy was once told by her good friend, Kelsey, that she would be able to tell everything she needed to know about a guy by the way they answered one very simple question. 

If you could have any superpower, what would it be?

She thinks about it more often than she really should, if she’s honest with herself, but Kelsey’s rationale behind each potential answer is actually a stroke of rare genius - and Poppy often finds herself applying the logic to most people that she encounters.

Guys who say super speed are the ultimate red flag. No one wants a quick finisher, no matter how fast they may be in any other aspect of life. Some things specifically require time and patience. Sacrificing your partner’s satisfaction all to say you can run the world record fastest 5k is the ultimate ick.

There’s an argument to be made for the endurance choosers, it sure has its perks, but Poppy thinks it’s a boring pick. To be given the option of any superpower, and to choose perseverance, of all things? Get a life. 

Anyone who chooses x-ray vision is a certified pervert, obviously. The same could be said for those wanting to read minds, although most of the guys Poppy has seen in her life struggle to comprehend the things she says in plain words, never mind whatever nonsense is circling through her inner thoughts. 

Those who choose flying are one dimensional, rarely able to see beyond what’s right in front of them, because, if they could, they’d choose the much better option of teleportation.

Who chooses flying when you could just think about somewhere and instantaneously arrive? With your hair in tact and no risk of bumping into any territorial birds.

Teleportation is what Poppy would have picked if anyone would have asked her a week ago, for the mere fact that commuting anywhere is the bane of her entire existence, and if she thinks too hard about it or looks to much into it, it always has been. 

She associates it with sitting in the back of her dad’s Bentley as a child, a tangible, frosty silence lingering in the air between her parents after one of their many even-toned arguments disguised as discussions, the fresh pine scent making her car sick and the leather seats making the back of her thighs sticky. 

Or the fragile bones of her hand being crushed by her mother’s tight grip as they rode the Amtrak over to Manhattan, Priscilla sneering at anyone who dared step too close on the crowded carriage, Poppy being dragged throughout department stores in the name of mother-daughter bonding time, and clutching to a tiny consolation Macy’s bag housing a sparkly lip gloss like her life depended on it the whole way home. 

She thinks of all the hours of her life she’s wasted on the Palisades Parkway, no longer able to enjoy the scenic route whenever she has to drive back to her parent’s house in Alpine after having watched one too many crime shows where a broken down car leads to a girl’s face plastered all over the news.

Even driving to work can feel like hell when the traffic is bad, what should be a 30 minute drive sometimes turning into an hour, Poppy’s fingers cramping around the wheel and her feet itching to touch solid ground after too long.

Teleportation sounds perfect.

And, there’s even a romance element to it. Being whisked away to Paris in the blink of an eye, suddenly sitting outside a boulangerie, decadent, rich hot chocolate on a table in front of her and a plate full of pastries, all because she mentioned a slight craving for a pain au chocolat. 

Teleportation has always been the only correct, green-flag answer to the question. 

Until Poppy properly considered time travel, that is.

The concept of it has always been a little too much or her to handle - too many strange loopholes, too many bad examples from the sci-fi movies her brother had loved as a kid. Travelling back in time to when her parents were her age and accidentally capturing her adolescent father’s attention à la Marty McFly? Sounds like hell and horror to Poppy. 

But that was before she screwed everything up.

If she could have any superpower right now, currently weighed down with the burden of hindsight - which people have always told her is a funny thing, but she thinks is actually somewhat diabolical - she would pick time travel a thousand times over.

Because if human beings have a specific part of their brain that is dedicated to forcing them to sit and stew on their every poor decision for days on end - lets them rethink and regret everything until they’re blue in the face, and can’t think of anything other than how idiotic they have been - it should also offer the kindness of being able to go back and change what they so royally fucked up.

That’s what Poppy thinks, at least, as she throws herself down onto her bed, her back hitting the duvet in a whoosh and all she can do is stare at the ceiling and wonder how and when she became such a certified moron.

There’s a part of her that suspects it’s in her genes. Inevitable. Unavoidable. Nature and nurture, she was born and raised to be a full blown fool.

Poppy comes from a long line of privilege, and while it does take a certain element of intelligence to amass the wealth her family has, it also tends to go hand in hand with ignorance in its many forms.

Behind every fortuitous business move her father makes are a million other mistakes - failed ventures, bad investments, shoddy pieces of advice accepted from the untrustworthy snakes he surrounds himself with. Hidden beneath every rung of the social ladders her mother has managed to climb, there are the ugly faux-pas’ slipping through the cracks of a former, more unsavoury life she can never run too far from. And her brother - well, she suspects he’s just an idiot, there are no two ways about it.

She knows that she needs to stop blaming her family, though. This time, it’s all her.

She can’t blame her father for the way she overthinks, the man who makes every decision in life with the littlest regard for how anyone else feels about it. She can’t blame her mother for the way she places such little value on herself, the woman who walks into every room like she owns it and refuses to let anyone make her think otherwise.

Except maybe she can.

If she had the nerve to talk to a therapist, they might disagree - might say her overthinking comes from her dad’s lack of communication skills, a part of her brain always filling in the gaps of a half-assed, other side of any conversation with him. Or they might say her insecurities come from her mom constantly putting Poppy down while telling her to be more sure of herself - stop slouching, Poppy, no one will take you seriously with the posture of a candy cane.

She’d love to know where her need to repress her feelings so deep that she becomes an impenetrable, cold, dark fortress comes from. The need to push and shove when someone tries to get too close, because God forbid anything is ever easy when it comes to her affections.

It would have made the past 4 days since Nico had walked into her apartment and kissed the life out of her a whole lot easier. 

4 days spent reminiscing, rethinking and regretting every single thing she had said and done since their lips parted, since he had put his heart on the line and she’d whacked it away, full swing, as if too desperate for the victory of a last-bat home run.

If she could time travel, she’d do the whole thing over.

-

“Don’t go on that date, Mohn.”

She had read the words on his lips before they registered through her ears, the sound of her blood rushing throughout her body occupying every sense for a brief moment.

What the hell is going on?

Nico had kissed her. He’d grabbed her, pulled her into him, and she’s pretty sure he had made her heart stop for a good second - there’s no other justifiable reason for the way it had been reverberating against her ribcage ever since. 

And then he stood before her, a desperate, pleading projection playing in his dark irises, lips still slick from where her own had just been, cheeks flushed, shoulders rising with subtle panting breaths, waiting for a response to a question she couldn’t even remember hearing.

“W-what?” She’d stuttered, blinking hard and shaking her head as if to rattle her brain into whatever semblance of cognisance she could muster.

Nico had kissed her, and then wanted to talk? As if she had the brain power left for any kind of discussion after that?

He seemed proud of the mess he had made of her, lips lifting at one side, drawing her gaze immediately to every movement they made, so focused on the memory of how pillowy-soft they had felt against hers that she didn’t notice him stepping a little closer, raising a large hand to tuck her hair behind her ear until she flinched at the contact.

“Sunday, Poppy,” he had uttered, unfazed by her skittishness, “Your date, don’t go.”

She had blinked again, completely overwhelmed on every front. She could still taste him on her tongue, he was so close she could smell his cologne, tunnel vision only seeing him in front of her and the hand that cupped the side of her face in her peripheral, her heartbeat echoing through her skull and every nerve, every slight hair on her body, standing as if trying to close the distance between his body and hers.

It was the sensory overload that made her go against all other instincts.

“I can’t.” Her voice had sounded like it hadn’t been used in weeks, croaky and unsure, her next words stammered, “I can’t not go, I mean. I have to go.”

“You don’t have to go, Poppy,”

“No, I do.” That had sounded a little surer, the fog in her brain slowly clearing only for something more tumultuous to pass through in it’s place. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

Nico blinked once, then again, frustration clear in the furrow of his thick brows as he seemed to stew on his next words, desperate to say the right thing. There was a prolonged, tense beat, before he had asked, “Have you ever thought we could be more?”

“More?”

“More than friends.”

If her heart hadn’t stopped when he had kissed her, it must have stopped then.

His back straight, eyes looking directly into hers, a hopeful, inquisitive gleam shining from within them - he had never seemed so sure of something for as long as she had known him.

Poppy couldn’t stop the little voice in her head questioning, where the hell has this come from?

“Have you?” She had asked with a eyre of disbelief.

 Not once in the years she had known him had he ever made it seem like they could be more. There had always been an unspeakable, undeniable barrier between them. They were friends. They’d always been friends. Just friends.

Friends who spent most of their free, personal time together, friends who bought each other sentimental gifts they’d never get for anyone else, who shared intimate details about their lives and their pasts, and kissed each others heads like a goodbye ritual. Friends who broke each other’s hearts, seemingly beyond repair, without explanation.

“I think so.”

“You think so?”

“I mean,” He had paused, breaking eye contact for a second as if wracking his brain for the right answer, sensing a teetering tension between the two of them. “Yeah. Yes. I have.”

She had narrowed her eyes at him, weighing up the possibility in her mind that she wouldn’t have liked any response he gave to her, every prospective answer causing a flood of doubt and uncertainty to crash in rushing, destructive waves through her mind. “Since when?” She’d asked, trying to level her bite.

If he’d ever thought they could be more, what the hell have they been doing all this time?

“Since I met you, I think,” he had shrugged.

Wrong answer, again.

“And you only bring it up when I have a date with someone else?”

She watched a series of antithetical emotions pass through his features, understanding, confusion, acceptance, denial, resilience, cowardice. He had seemed to find the small margins between all of them, when he had come back with, “It’s not because of your date, Poppy.”

“Then why?” She tilted her head as she continued to analyse him, again not sure what she was looking for, or what she wanted to find. That something tumultuous was already whirling within her, too late to be stopped, and Nico could seemingly see the warning signs.

“Why are you getting mad at me, right now?”

“I’m not mad,” she had denied, not even knowing if she was lying or not, “I’m confused. 2 weeks ago, we weren’t even talking, Nico-,”

“You said you forgave me for that.”

“I didn’t-.” She’d cut herself off before she could say something that would upset him, the conversation spiralling so far out of control from the momentary bliss he had provided only minutes ago - but she was too far up shit’s creek without a paddle, there was no turning back. She’d been wanting to have a proper conversation with Nico all week, what better time than the middle of the night on what was now his birthday? “That’s not exactly what I said.”

He had taken a step back, lips parting with an unreleased gasp, the once-hopeful glint in his eyes transforming into hurt. “You don’t forgive me?”

“I didn’t say that either,” she sighed, wanting answers, not to cause him anguish. “Please don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Then tell me what the hell is wrong? What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I don’t understand where this has come from, Nico! You come in here and kiss me out of nowhere and tell me not to date other people and I’m just supposed to blindly follow along when I don’t get what the hell is happening with you!”

“I think me kissing you makes it pretty obvious what I want to happen, Mohn.” He had tried to ease the tension, his voice level and steady, stepping forward with his hands raised in an attempt to calm her, but she had taken a slight step back, clearly unaffected. 

“It doesn’t.” She’d stopped looking at him at that point, keeping an eye on his feet to watch his encroaching steps. “Nothing about you is obvious. You don’t tell me anything and all I can think about is what I did wrong.”

If he couldn’t see the tears pooling at her lashes, he had to have heard the break in her voice - a sure indicator that she was close to crying - but his steps had stopped, feet seemingly stuck to their place on the hardwood flooring of Poppy’s apartment, and she could feel her heart shatter knowing he wasn’t persisting again.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He tries to reassure her, but it’s no use.

Maybe she would have believed him if he’d held her while he said it, transferred the meaning through touch to her skin, gripping her with every word until she truly understood the weight of them.

“It had to have been something. You don’t just stop wanting to know a person for no reason, Nico, so what was it?” She made her way to her couch, perching on the edge of the seat with her knees pressed together, and looked over to where he remained standing.

She could feel her temper flaring again. 

How could he have the nerve to do this to her - to turn her world upside down in a matter of minutes - and not have the answers she needed to accept it?

“Poppy-,”

“I need to know. I can’t drop it and forget about it, and I’m sorry that I made it seem like I could, but if you want us to move on from this, if you want to come here and kiss me like that, and tell me you don’t want me seeing other people, I need to know what happened.”

“I-,” Nico sighed heavily, shoulders drooping, any confidence and bravado he had displayed after their kiss now a distant memory. “I don’t know.”

She had an immediate, striking thought, that maybe if she asked closed questions, he could give her an answer, and so, with misplaced courage, she asked, “Was it her?”

“What?”

“Your girlfriend. Did she ask you to stop talking to me?”

It was a thought that had been plaguing her for longer than she’d like to admit - unable to shake the idea that maybe Talia had seen one of the texts she had sent, had gone through Nico’s phone and seen any of their older messages, any photos he might have kept on his phone, maybe a memory had come up from snapchat, maybe someone had mentioned Poppy and her curiosity had been piqued. 

Poppy had always thought if she was dating someone, and they had a Poppy, she might feel some type of way about it. 

But her and Nico were just friends.

Nico rounded the couch, sitting on the cushion beside Poppy, their knees knocking as he reached into her lap and took her shaking hands in his.

“Do you really think I’d stop talking to you just because someone asked me to?” Their eyes had met again, sadness brewing in the dark coffee colour surrounding his dilated pupils, and a glassy film coating her own. “Poppy, I would never.”

“I don’t know what to think, Nico, because you won’t tell me.”

“Because it doesn’t make sense! I try wrapping my head around it, try coming up with some kind of explanation, but nothing I say is going to change what I did to you, Poppy.”

Her question before had gotten her an honest response, had elicited something real and undeniable within him - he’d never stop talking to her because someone asked him to. So it was his own decision, subconscious or not. Maybe she could help dig further, she thought.

“Why did you kiss me?” She asked after a beat.

“I,” Nico pondered over it before rushing his answer, a wave of emotion flashing across his face before his eyes locked on hers, ready to let her in. “Because I wanted to.”

That was a start - a simple question, a straightforward answer. 

“Was that the first time that you wanted to?”

“No.”

Poppy could feel some semblance of confidence coming back. Closed questions, concrete answers, she could keep this up.

“When was the last time you wanted to kiss me?”

She could have asked the first - she sure as hell wanted to know it, but if he’d thought of being more the entire time they’d known each other, there was a lingering possibility there were many times - and they would be there until sunrise if they started from the beginning.

“Finnegan’s.” 

“The bar?”

“We went there when we came back after we crashed out of the playoffs, do you remember?”

She remembered.

It had only been a couple of days before Nico had left for his summer back home in Switzerland.

Their loss in Carolina had been devastating, the boys came back broken and defeated, and all just wanted to drown their sorrows before they broke for their off-season. Poppy had been out with Nia and Kelsey and a few other friends at another bar when Jack had responded to her instagram story, saying they’d be at the Irish pub that was a staple within the team, and she should come over and join them.

She had made her way over pretty late, wanting to make sure her friends were okay without her, and arrived when most of the boys were completely shit-faced, past the point of tears and moping and deep into a mass state of hysteria and loud jubilation for the successes along the way.

She had found Nico in a booth in the far corner of the bar, head slumped over the back, eyes seemingly tracing the cracks in the ceiling until she crawled into the bench behind him, leaned over with her elbows resting on either side of his head, and took up his entire view. 

“What’cha doin’?” She’d asked, lips twisting at the sight of his dizzy eyes trying to correct themselves to focus on her. 

He’d quickly given up, pressing his eyes closed to shut out the risk of nausea taking over, the outer corners crinkling, the sides of his nose scrunching and his eyelashes fanning a shadow over his cheekbones - her own eyes were level with his lips, so he couldn’t really hide the way they curved at the quick glimpse of her.

“Suffering,” he had muttered, squinting one eye open to catch a brief, upside down glance of her. Nico was never this down after a few drinks. He was giggly, he was loud, he was touchy and clumsy - he was never the hide away in the corner sad type. “Wanna join me?”

“Always.” She affirmed, making her way around to his side of the booth and sliding in beside him until her bare thigh pressed against the somewhat scratchy linen of the pants he wore. 

“I’m probably not the best company tonight,” He remained in the same position, neck craning so the base of his head could rest atop the back of the seat, and his eyes closed - giving Poppy the perfect opportunity to properly look him over.

The few moments they’d had together, alone, over the past few weeks, he’d been pent up, stressed, overworked and on the brink of eruption, so this was the first time in a long time she’d managed to catch him without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Only, that weight wasn’t so easy to shift.

She saw it in the bags under his eyes, in the unkempt playoff beard he was yet to shave off, in the stuttered way his chest rose and fell with his attempts at deep, calming breaths. 

As she watched him, the corner of her lip tucked between her teeth in contemplation, she knew there was nothing she could say to make him feel better about this. He just had to feel it out, process it in his own way without her interference - but she wanted to be there, at least.

And as much as she wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, that he did the best he could, and led his team through one of their strongest seasons in recent franchise history, she wanted to provide him comfort in the quiet, too.

“I don’t mind.”

And so, with little trepidation, she placed a hand on his chest, over his heart, and rested her head next to it, glancing up to see the push of a dimple forming on his cheek as his arm stretched around her and welcomed her into his warm embrace.

“You wanted to kiss me then?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Didn’t seem like the right time, though,” he followed up with an answer to a question she hadn’t even asked, yet. “I was leaving too soon and I didn’t want you to think I’d just kissed you because I was drunk and upset.”

Her eyes moved to his lips, a question for herself whirling around in her head. Would she have wanted him to kiss her then? What would have happened in the aftermath? Where would they be now? Would she have thought that? Would she have spent her summer stewing over what it meant, and how his lips had felt against hers?

Before she had much time to think it over, Nico continued, being spurred on by such a distinct memory that he was rolling towards the answer she had been waiting for, and she wasn’t going to stop him to try and decipher her own feelings.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I went home, thinking about wanting to kiss you, or not kissing you, and what it all would mean, and I kept trying to distract myself thinking I could just figure it all out when I came back here but then I met Talia, and I felt wrong for thinking about you when I had her.”

That had made sense. Nico was always a guy that would do the right thing. If he had a girlfriend, he wouldn’t think of the prospect of something with someone else, even if that someone was Poppy, and that something was a culmination of years of pent up feelings finally coming together to form something potentially wonderful.

She didn’t quite need or want to hear the rest. Didn’t want to hear how he’d gone looking for a distraction, and found just that. 

Nico was loyal, and for him to maintain that essence of himself, he had to ignore the possibility of Poppy. Some subconscious part within him saw her as a threat to the stability he had with the perfect girl from back home, and he boxed her away to make room for what could be with Talia.

It stung, but he was right. Neither of them could change what had already happened.

“Do you think you could ever forgive me?”

She’d nodded after only a second, barely even thinking about it.

Jack’s words from New Years Eve rang through her, suck it up and move on.

Nico had his reasons, she had her answers. He wasn’t bored of her, wasn’t tired of her or annoyed by her. He’d been so caught up by his unspoken, untranslated feelings for her that he twisted himself into untangle-able knots that were only just starting to loosen up enough to be picked apart.

“Could you maybe say it?”

“Yeah, I could.” she had said through trembling lips, the hurt in his voice burrowing through her eardrums, lodging itself in her own throat, and dripping slowly but surely into the depths of her chest. “I will.” She had to be more sure, needing to erase any doubt she had planted within him. “I do.”

“You do?”

He still held her hands in his from when he had sat down, palms warm and slightly perspirant from his tight grip around her knuckles.

“I forgive you.”

His mouth twitched into a shaky smile, his eyes catching the soft light and twinkling with emotion, and she definitely wanted to kiss him, then.

She had wondered if this is what he felt when he’d kissed her before, this burning need. Her fingers twitched in his hold, her heart thudded in her chest, and her lips parted in anticipation, until she could finally slam the breaks on her torpedoing thoughts.

“It’s just a lot to process, and I don’t really know how I feel.”

She had wished she could take it back as soon as the words left her mouth, and Nico’s features had folded as he took them in. He broke eye contact almost immediately, head dropping to look down at their hands until he released hers back into her lap. 

“I get it.” He uttered, forcing a smile as he glanced back up at her, briefly. “I sprung this on you out of nowhere, I’m s-,”

“Please don’t apologise,” she interrupted before he could go there, knowing it would send her brain into overdrive if he let even the thought of regret fester between them, “I’m glad you did. I don’t want you to be sorry about it.”

Relief washed over the both of them in a warm, steady stream as he nodded, leaning into the back of the couch, legs spreading as an elongated sigh wracked through his torso. 

He ran a hand through his hair, and Poppy’s eyes flickered to the flex of his fingers, the strain of his wrist, the flash of protruding veins where his sleeve had pulled up with the stretch of his movements. 

His eyes closed, and she took him in just like she had that night in Finnegan’s bar.

She’d had an urge then, a desire even, to provide comfort - to share his burdens, make him forget the pain he had just endured, wash it all away with encouraging words, gentle touches. A shoulder to cry on, two ears to listen, and, albeit she didn’t entirely know it at the time, a whole heart that was his for the taking.

And take it, he did, held it all summer, bent it all sorts of ways out of shape up until New Years Eve, and it was still in his hands. Smushed, dented, squeezed to within an inch of his life, her heart was his.

It was up to her now to figure out what she wanted him to do with it. 

“I made a promise to my mom about the date, Nico, I have to go.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, seemingly resigned to the fact he had maybe been a little too lost in the moment to make such a crazy demand of her. 

“And I think maybe we both need a little time to properly think about what is happening here.”

“Time?” He practically shot up, alarm in his eyes.

“We’ve barely been apart all week, Nico, I think that might be why we’re both so,” she struggled for the right word - pent up, emotional, strung out, “Intense.”

She had known she was emotional, overthinking to the point of ruin, but maybe he was too. Maybe that’s what had led to the kiss, to the outburst of sentiment. They were both in the depths of a pressure cooker of emotions, and some space might do them good to gain a little clarity.

Maybe with a little more time to think on it, to consider what he was admitting to, have a little breathing room, and act more on something concrete than a fleeting in-the-moment feeling, he might change his mind. He deserved the opportunity to do so, she wouldn’t hold it against him.

“How much time do you think you would need?”

“I’m driving up to my parent’s house on Friday, so I would have been away for most of the weekend anyway, maybe we check back in on Monday and see where our heads are at?”

“4 days,” he muttered as if he’d just counted them in his head. “I can do that.”

“Yeah?” He had nodded in response, and there was something like hope that lingered between them, sharing small smiles and gazing through glassy eyes. “You’ll be so busy you won’t even get the chance to miss me.”

She believed it to be true - Nico had his family over, would be spending the latter end of the day with them, and had 2 big home games in a row to worry about. Poppy would be the last thing on his mind.

If she had blinked in the moment, she might have missed the way his observation slipped to her lips, lingered there for a brief second, and glanced back up to flicker between her eyes again. “Not possible.”

“Poppy, have you suffered some kind of brain injury I don’t know about?” Nia’s voice rings through the speaker of the phone pressed to her ear, already supposedly-styled hair fanned out around her as she lays staring at the ceiling, willing herself to get up and go before she’s late.

No matter how much she doesn’t want to go on this date, her mother will kill her if she hears anything other than a glowing review. On time, preened to perfection, polite and sociable. 

“Maybe I hit my head in my sleep at some point,” she thinks out loud, glancing back to the sharp edges of her bedside table and wondering if she could have thudded into it in the night.

Surely she would have a scar or a bruise.

“You must have,” Nia agrees, “That’s the only logical explanation why you’d ever consider telling the guy you’ve been hung up on since you first met him that you need time to think about how you feel,”

“Ni,” Poppy groans, “I called you for advice, not a lecture.”

“If you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes, and you my friend, are a dumbass.”

“In my defence-,”

“Nope!” Poppy doesn’t know what Nia is doing on the other end, but she hears something clatter as if being slammed down on a table in protest, “There is no defence, you’re an idiot.”

“I didn’t know how I felt about it, Ni,” Poppy sighs, sitting up and catching sight of herself in the mirror. She doesn’t know why so much of her time tonight has been wasted trying to look so good when she doesn’t even want to. When she’d gone to visit her parents, her mother had practically given her a full blown rundown of the guy she was meeting.

Tucker Lyon, she can’t help to instinctively roll her eyes at just his name, works in investment grade finance for one of the Big 4 - she hadn’t cared enough to ask which one. His family are property people, her mom had said, and own enough Manhattan real estate to hold some serious power. Priscilla had met his mother years ago at some luncheon in the city, and apparently the two had been in cahoots since then to set their children up.

Poppy doesn’t want to be set up with some walking red flag, biting her tongue over a plate of food too small to satisfy her hunger while he mansplains stocks and shares to her.

She wants to be in whatever bar the guys are holed up in, tucked under Nico’s arm, side practically glued to his, sipping cocktails and celebrating him like he deserves to be celebrated.

But instead, she can admit, she has been a royal idiot.

“I still don’t know, it’s all come at me full force and I don’t understand my feelings.”

“Bullshit!” Nia scoffs, “You knew you were into him the second he first flashed those dimples your way.”

She isn’t entirely wrong.

Poppy had once harboured a slight crush on him. In the very early stages of their friendship. One small enough that when she realised it was completely one-sided - and she was being delusional to ever think his cute nickname for her and his insistence on spending time only with her was anything more than his attempt to make a friend - she could swallow it down until it was barely anything.

She trained her heart not to stutter when he approached her, told her brain to shut up when he flashed her one of those perfect, all consuming smiles, and could cross her arms to restrain her hands from wanting to hold his whenever they walked side by side.

She’d become so good at suppressing her feelings, she’d forgotten she had them.

She had forgotten all the times they had hung out alone over the years, never second guessing all the looks and the touches, the times he’d let her stay over if it got too late to go home alone, and the times he’d waltz into hers like he owned the place.

She’d forgotten when she had seen him with Talia, always claiming the feeling in her gut was one of loss and reminiscence, not envy and bitterness.

She’d forgotten when the Hughes brothers had helped her move a couple months ago, and Luke had questioned the amount of Nico he was helping to scatter throughout her apartment. Pictures on her bookshelf, pictures stuck to her fridge with souvenir magnets from Swiss gift shops, a couple hoodies, Devils branded shorts and big t-shirts of his he’d come across in the boxes. 

“I didn’t realise you and Cap were so close,” Luke had picked a frame out of one of the boxes, the picture of Nico and Poppy at the Halloween party inside, and waved it in her direction as she stood with her hands on her hips, figuring out if she wanted to alphabetise or colour code the books she was displaying. 

“Huh?” Poppy tilted her head towards the tall boy, watching as he shook his curls back into place and ran a hand through them. He’d worked up a bit of a sweat lugging her boxes upstairs, and now that everything was finally moved, Jack had gone to get them food, and Poppy and Luke were getting started on unpacking the easy stuff. She looked to the picture in hand, reaching over and taking it to get a closer look. “I guess we were, I don’t really know.” She wasn't a good enough actress to properly pull off the nonchalance she was aiming for.

“You don’t know?” Luke scoffed, rifling through other pictures in the box - all framed, mostly of her and Nico, some just the two of them, some of them in groups, but always side by side. Always grinning ear to ear. “You’ve got like a shrine in here, PJ,”

“It’s not a shrine,” she had argued, “You don’t keep pictures of your friends? Sounds kind of cold, if you ask me, Moosey.”

“I keep pictures on instagram and my phone like a normal person.” He chuckled.

“Generational gap, you kids are done for when the cloud goes down, you know. Physical media is forever.”

“You sound like my mom.” Luke jibed, and true to his nature, unable to stop himself before he inadvertently crossed a line, he asked with a weird wiggle of his eyebrows, “So, you wanna keep Nico forever, huh?”

“Shut up, Luke.” If Poppy had something soft enough, she would have thrown it at his head. The photo frame in hand seemed like overkill, and she didn’t want to hurt the kid, just make him stop. She didn’t much like talking about him, what they once had, what they once were. Even if he did have the wrong impression of what they were. It was upsetting, and she didn’t want to get upset - not in front of Luke. “You can keep those in the box.”

Luke had reached out for the frame in Poppy’s grasp, had watched as she hesitated giving it back, as she looked down and took in the huge smiles on her and Nico’s faces, and as she made the decision not to put this one back. Maybe she could phase it out, wait until she took a nicer, more meaningful picture with someone else before she replaced that one.

“I’ll keep this one out. I look cute.”

"Sure." His sarcasm was not entirely appreciated.

She had heard him chuckle to himself as she stood the frame on one of the shelves, placing it between a scented candle she had no intention of ever lighting and a small faux lavender plant. Not shrine-like at all.

She’d forgotten about any suppressed feelings until Nico kissed her.

Until he opened up Pandora’s box, releasing all her pent up emotions to roam freely, creating chaos and causing havoc through every corner of her entire existence. 

For the past 3 days, she’s thought about him with everything she has done. 

On Thursday afternoon, sat alone in her office, going over emails and wondering what he would be up to with his family. Was he happy, were they having fun, did he think about her for a second?

On Friday evening, driving alone on the long winding roads to her parent’s house and listening to the commentary for the game on the radio. Making it to the house in time for the 3rd period, and seeing the team celebrate. Was he well rested, excited for his family to watch him play at home, did he look up into the staff suite at the Rock and wish she was there cheering him on?

On Saturday, retreating to her childhood bedroom after another tense family dinner, snuggling up with the dogs on her bed as she watched the game. Was he beating himself up, had he gone straight home on his own after the loss, did he have the same urge to call her as much as she wanted to call him?

Did he, on any of those nights, lay awake thinking about that kiss?

About how right it had felt? How he had exerted his subtle dominance over her with such ease, large hands encompassing her face and holding her to his lips like his life depended on it?

Did he think about where it could have gone if she hadn’t shut him down? Where they could be if he’d made a move before?

She’s been thinking about it. Non-stop thinking about it.

Thinking about that kiss, and the possibility of others - the moment in the bar, all the other potential moments he had wanted to kiss her and hadn’t. The fact that maybe her feelings had never been one sided, and she’s wasted years pushing them down for nothing.

“Do you think I made a mistake not cancelling this date?” She asks her friend in a moment of vulnerability, her mind reeling with the possibility that she has already fucked up what could be.

“No.” Nia assures her, surprisingly. She’s been calling her an idiot all night, what does she mean, ‘no’? “I think he needs to sweat a little, let him think about you out tonight with another guy, and come tomorrow, his mind will be made up.”

“You don’t think we might be overestimating how much it bothers him?”

“Don’t make me call you a dumbass again, Pop.” Poppy can hear the rolling of her best friend’s eyes through the phone. “And send me a picture of your outfit before you leave.”

Nico

Nico has never been so physically uncomfortable in his life.

For a man who plays contact sport for a living - has played it for a good chunk of his existence, and has suffered countless knocks and injuries, slept in one too many uncomfortable positions in planes, buses, trains and even hotel beds, and who’s face has had more than enough encounters with the wrong end of a pair of skates - that is saying a lot.

But every inch of him, every fibre of his entire being, feels irritated in some way.

It’s a feeling like unforeseen static shocks passing over every surface of his skin. Like little bugs crawling all over him and he can’t swat them away. Like random strands of fine hairs that can’t be seen by the naked eye but God, can he feel them. He feels them everywhere.

From the top of his head to the tips of his toes, he feels something prickling, stinging, burning. 

Itchy.

Like a scratch he can’t reach in the very middle of his back.

And it’s not like he doesn’t know what it is.

He’s felt it ever since he left Poppy’s apartment in the early hours of Thursday morning. He had hardly slept, getting maybe 3 or 4 hours in before his alarm shrilled from where it charged on his nightstand. 

He has tried to use the same coping mechanisms that get him through his bouts of homesickness - where he closes his eyes and tries to provoke a memory for each sense.

He pictures the views from one of his many hikes, endless fields of green grass, crystal clear lakes, winding footpaths and mountains that stretch as far as the eye can see. He imagines gathering around a fondue table back in his favourite restaurant, and can smell the freshly baked bread, can taste the melt-in-the-mouth flavour once it’s been dipped in oozing, melted cheese. He can feel the softness of the freshly washed sheets back in his childhood bedroom and can hear the chorused chirps of the birds outside his window in the early mornings. 

It’s a technique that has helped ground him in the past, and he had thought that maybe if he applies the same logic, it will dull the ache in his fingertips that yearn to reach for his phone and text the girl who has asked him for space.

If he thinks hard enough, he can still taste the sweet but subtle vanilla of Poppy’s lip balm. He can smell the fresh-cotton essence of her laundry detergent, can hear the melodic sounds she had hummed into his lips, can feel the softness of her skin on the pads of his fingers, can see, clear as day, the dazed expression etched into her features like she had gotten caught up in the fantasy too.

If it wasn’t so easy for him to mentally transport himself back, he wouldn’t have been able to make it 4 days without seeing her. 

He had known it would be hard, but, thankfully, he thinks he got himself enough of a fix to make it to Monday.

He’d taken all he could with just one press of his lips to hers, had taken more of Poppy than he had ever dared to take before, and his subconscious was clinging onto it for dear life, hoping with everything in him she could decide to give him more.

4 days.

He has never known time to be so cruel. For it to drag out every minute like it was an hour.

If his life had a remote control, best believe he would be jamming the hell out of the fast forward button. 4x speed, skip to the next chapter, not wanting or needing to know what happened in the in-between.

He’s always thought himself to have patience - good things come to those who wait, after all - but this had become the ultimate test.

He had tried to immerse himself in whatever was going on each day, hoping they would pass quicker, less painfully, but it had been no use.

His birthday had passed by in a dizzying blur. He’d had a late morning skate, had come home to his family waiting for him, had gone to dinner with them, caught up over Italian food in one of his favourite spots by his apartment, and had driven his parents, his sister and her boyfriend back to their hotel with the promise of dedicating some time to them before the game on Friday.

Every single thing had reminded him of her.

Being at the Rock and wondering where in the building she might be, and if she was reminded of him with the littlest things. If she was thinking about him, what she was thinking about him. Seeing his family, imagining her place at the table as they all exchanged laughter and stories over pasta and wine. Thinking about what she might contribute to the conversation, how she would get along with his sister, how they’d gang up on him and poke fun, but she’d hold his hand under the table and squeeze to let him know it was all in good humour.

In the locker room after the win against the Blackhawks, trying his best to get involved in the celebrations but just wanting to call her, to hear that she had watched, and was proud of him and the team. And even after the loss against the Canucks, he wanted to hear the same. He wanted to go straight to her place, the passenger seat of his car painfully empty as he drove himself home in complete silence. 

And he had tried his best not to get too into his head about the whole space thing.

Poppy was right, after all. Things had gotten intense.

He had been intense - marching over to her place and kissing her out of nowhere. As right as it had felt, it was stupid. It was hotheaded and impulsive and it wasn’t considerate of her feelings.

But, God, he was so caught up on her he couldn’t help himself. He should have seen in the days they had spent together prior that they needed to speak more about everything before he threw himself at her like a neanderthal. 

He’d only considered what conclusion he had reached, and as much as his conversation with the guys on the plane gave him an idea of Poppy’s mindset, some words needed to be exchanged before he planted one straight on her. The whole thing could have gone so much better if he just knew how to communicate everything with her properly.

Even before the kiss. Before New Years, before Talia, before Summer - if he knew how to speak about his developing feelings for her, this whole mess could have been avoided.

He wouldn’t be sat alone in a bar, yet again, as his friends surround him, partaking in the celebrations that are supposed to revolve around him, wallowing in self pity.

He wouldn’t be thinking about Poppy, out in some fancy restaurant somewhere else in the city, with some stick-up-his-ass loser who doesn’t deserve a second of her time, and imagining her giving him one of those earth shattering smiles - the one where her the outside of her eyes crinkle in the corners, and every time he sees it he imagines the lines settling there as she ages, and it’s always a version of the two of them, old and grey, side by side, smiling together.

He imagines her taking him back to her apartment, curling up with him on the couch Nico helped her haul up the stairs after she had found it for crazy cheap off of some sketchy ad on Facebook marketplace. He sees her slowly replacing all those pictures she has of her and Nico with pictures of her and him, phasing him out of her space like she would eventually phase him out of his life.

He thinks about her taking him to her bedroom - the one he had yet to see in her new apartment, but imagines it’s just like her old one; way too many pillows and throws, a thick, plush duvet that looks like she’s climbing into a cloud, and a beat up stuffed toy her grandmother had given her when she was young. 

He doesn’t want to wish that Poppy is currently welcoming someone into her life that doesn’t suit her, but he can’t help himself.

He hopes this guy is late - and doesn’t even apologise for it. He hopes he orders off the menu for her, or criticises her choice of wine for not pairing with her choice of food like a complete snob. He hopes he’s awful to wait-staff. He hopes he’s type of guy who writes a suggestion on the tip line of his receipt instead of leaving a minimum of 20%. He hopes he chews with his mouth open, spits when he talks and scrapes his knife along the ceramic of his plate as he cuts his food, causing that toe curling sound that makes Poppy want to scream.

He hopes he doesn’t offer her his jacket, because she always refuses to take one out. He hopes he doesn’t think to give her a piggy back, because she always wears shoes out she knows she doesn’t want to walk in, but always wants to walk home if it’s nice out. He hopes he walks on the inside of the sidewalk, leaving her to the dangers of walking roadside, and walks too quick for her to keep up with little regard for how she likes to take her time on a night and stretch the evening out. 

He even hopes he smokes. Poppy hates smokers. And if, God forbid, they kiss, he’ll have smoker’s breath, and she won’t want to do it again. 

She won’t stand in front of him, eyes glazed over, lashes fluttering, brows furrowing, lips still pouting and fingers twitching to reach back out, yearning for more.

She won’t even kiss him back.

Not like she had kissed Nico. Not like she had clutched at his shirt like she wanted to hold him close to her forever. He wouldn’t get to hear that sweet, subdued sound she had made when his tongue had swiped tentatively at hers, or feel that slight pressure of when her lips had closed around it, sucking almost at the muscle before opening back up to allow for more of a taste.

No one else can get that.

No one else will savour it like Nico has, thinking about is for days on end, replaying the moment over and over until he has perfect recall of every small detail.

It’s probably a good thing she hasn’t shared much detail about this date, Nico thinks as he swirls the ice around his empty drink, sat right at the bar away from the sectioned-off area that Timo had rented out for the party.

If he knew more about it - about the who, about the where - he probably would be in a cab by now, knowing he was crossing a line but unable to do anything about it, his will outweighing any common courtesy just as it had a few nights ago. Or he would have spent the last few days in a google deep-dive, trying to figure out the kind of man her mother would approve of. Enough to set her up, at least - he doubts Priscilla Jensen entirely approves of anyone.

Nico finally makes eye contact with the bartender, and as she starts to make her way over, he feels like a divine intervention occurs - an arm falling onto the bar top beside his, a glimmer of metal flashing into his dark eyes - the reflection bouncing from a bracelet that is welded around the base of a slender hand.

“I’ll take another of these,” he lifts his glass when the bartender arrives, gesturing to the old fashioned he’d somehow landed on over beer tonight, “And whatever she’s having, please.”

 “Vodka diet coke, please,” a voice rings out from beside him, and once the bartender busies herself with the order, she asks, “Shouldn’t I be the one getting you a drink? I heard it’s your birthday,”

“Why should either of us pay when it’s going on a tab?” He chuckles, angling his body better to face her. 

“Ooh la-la, a tab,” Nia mocks, “Now I feel like I’m a part of an elite club!”

“I find it hard to believe you’ve never had your drinks put on someone else’s tab before.”

“Not the New Jersey Devils captain himself, it’s such an honour!” She raises a manicured hand and presses it to her chest, a playful smile etched into her features. 

“Did you come over here just to poke fun at me?” Nico asks, touching on the dynamic that has long been between the two of them. She mocks him, mostly all bark and no bite, he takes it on the chest, knowing she’s doing it from of her warped version of almost sibling-like love, and Poppy usually acts as the mostly-unnecessary mediator, dividing her attention between them both. 

“Of course I did,” she affirms, “You looked all mopey and miserable, how could I not?”

“How is me waiting for a drink ‘mopey’?”

“Uh, let me think,” she taps her finger to her chin, before lifting it to point at each feature she references, “The huge pout on your lips, your giant caterpillar eyebrows all slanted and frowny-,”

“Forget I asked,” he mutters, lifting his lips into a quick smile and thanking the girl behind the bar as she brings them their drinks. “Didn’t know you’d be out tonight,”

“I’ll be sure to send you an e-vite to my google calendar when I get home later.”

Nico’s throat tightens slightly at how similar Nia and Poppy are - always quick with a response, most of the time sarcastic, most of the time able to elicit a genuine laugh to rumble from the depths of his chest. “I see why you and Poppy are so close.”

“Hm,” she hums, making a show of checking her phone, “You barely made it two minutes, but it could be a new record.”

“A new record?”

“For how long you can go in conversation without mentioning her.”

“She’s your best friend, the one person we have in common, it’s normal for me to bring her up, Nia.” He reaches for his drink to take a gulp, hoping the ice might make his throat feel a little better.

He doesn’t even know why he’s denying his lack of willpower when it comes to Poppy - 2 minutes actually seems like quite the achievement when he thinks about how long he’s restrained himself from reaching out over the past 4 days. Nia approaching him like this has been the perfect excuse to think about her - to talk about her without feeling like he’s overstepping or assuming.

He could use this to his advantage.

“Is she a good kisser?”

Or not.

He chokes on his drink, thankful the liquid isn’t coming out of his nose with how much he hadn’t been expecting that question.

“She looks like she would be. I’ve always thought about it but there’s never been a right time to try it out. Maybe I should take a leaf outta your book and lay it on thick and fast when she least expects it.”

How he even thought he could gain advantage in this conversation is beyond belief. He’s out of his depth with Nia, as usual. She isn’t afraid to call him out - she never has been - and she’s the one person in the world Poppy would confide in. Of course she knows about the kiss.

“Is that what she said, I laid it on thick and fast,”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, lover boy.” She chuckles, picking up her cocktail and stepping away from him, “Thanks for the drink, Nico, try to enjoy the rest of your birthday party.”

“Wait!” He reaches out to stop her, not wanting to let a golden opportunity slip from his hands so easily. “You would have bought me a drink before, for my birthday?”

“I think you earn about 5 times my annual salary in a month, so probably not.”

“How about you answer a question for me?” He proposes, “As a gift.”

“I could,” she sighs, sitting down in the stool beside him, “But I heard you get touchy after gifts.”

He immediately regrets asking, but not enough to let her go. He’s come this far, and he has 4 days worth of questions he desperately needs answers to.

“Funny,” he gives a condescending smile, which clearly pleases her as she gives a genuine one back, lifting her spare hand to gesture for him to carry on. As if it’s that easy to narrow down all the things he wants to ask her.

One question. 

What did she say about the kiss? Did she like it? Would she do it again?

What did she say about him? About how she feels? About what she wants?

Where is she right now? What did she tell Nia about the date? About the who?

“The guy she’s out with,” he can’t even bring himself to say the D word, “Is he nice?”

The look she gives him is almost pitiful. In fact, there is no almost about it. She clearly thinks he’s pathetic, but it’s too late to retract the question now that it’s out there.

“I don’t think so.”

He doesn’t like the way his stomach turns at her answer.

He had wanted this, right? For him to be a gratuity-withholding, uncouth slob with bad breath. 

But the thought of her being out with someone that has the potential to hurt her, hurts him. His chest feels tight, his head feels muddled, and that everlasting itch returns to the tips of his fingers - the weight of his cellphone becoming that much heavier in his back pocket.

“I mean,” she carries on with a shrug and reaches for her own phone, “He was a no-show, so we’ll never actually know for sure.” She swipes at her phone until she brings up her message thread with Poppy, turning up the brightness to show Nico the picture she had asked her to send earlier. 

It’s a selfie taken in the overly tall mirror she had once made him pick up from Ikea, claiming it wouldn’t fit in her car and his was much bigger, and he doesn’t know why his first instinct is to scan the background just to confirm his earlier intuitions about her bedroom. Too many pillows, cloud-like duvet. He can’t see the stuffed toy, but he assumes it’s somewhere in there.

Poppy looks unbelievable. 

Her dress is short, like the one she had worn on New Years, fits snug around her waist and emphasises her curves in all the best ways. Her legs seem to go on for miles, adorned in knee high boots no doubt to provide some semblance of warmth. Her hair is pulled back, and she wears gold jewellery - rings, some small hoop earrings, and he’s only just able to stop his fingers reaching out to pinch at the screen because he can see the gemstone bracelet without the need to zoom in.

“Can’t be that nice if you’re standing up a girl that gorgeous, huh?” Nia asks, suggestively, leaning her chin into the palm of her spare hand as she looks up at Nico. “Some guys just don’t know how good they’ve got it.”

He figures he actually should be embarrassed about the relief that floods through him - washes over his entire demeanour, expression changing from defeated to victorious in a matter of mere seconds.

The crease that seems to have permanently formed between his brows smooths out, posture corrects itself, and his lips even almost turn up into a smile.

There’s a childish, territorial voice within him that wants to exclaim, Thank God! But he’s grateful that he’s able to mute it.

And, despite being privy to Nia’s games - despite knowing exactly what trap he is being lured into, what he’s about to fall for - he can’t help but suggest, “You should tell her to come out.” Because, despite knowing he had taken the bait, he can’t find it within himself to care. “I think I asked her one too many times to ask again.”

The one thing he had twisted himself into knots over since first hearing her utter the word date, hadn’t actually come to fruition.

There is no date. There is no uncouth slob.

There is Poppy, dressed as pretty as she is, practically waiting for someone to show her a good time. 

He can do that. He wants to do it - to be the someone that’s good to her.

“Oh, should I?” Nia asks, a knowing smirk causing her lips to twitch mischievously. She’s been playing him this whole time, and once again, he doesn’t care. “I don’t know, she seems resigned to spending the evening on her couch watching New Girl,” she sighs dramatically, clearly looking for incentive - once again, reminding him too much of the girl he longs for. “I don’t know if there’s much convincing to be done.”

“I’ll add you to the tab for the night.”

Rookie mistake, offering something up so quick.

“Is that all my efforts are worth to you, Nico, a few measly drinks?”

“What do you want?”

“I’m actually out with a client tonight,” she looks back somewhere toward the other side of the bar, Nico can’t even bring himself to follow her gaze. “Been trying to sign them to my agency for a while, and if I can fix this deal, I’m up for a promotion.”

“Nia,” he warns, not liking how long this story is becoming. Forget good things come to those who wait. He’s waited long enough. “What do you want?”

“They’re big Devils fans, I think a night with the team could really open them up to the benefits of working with me.”

“Bring them into our section.”

“And maybe some tickets, too.”

“Fine.”

Nia gives him a triumphant smile, “Great, I’ll let them know.” She salutes him as she stands back up, gathering her drink and phone between the fingers of one hand before backing away. “Nice doing business with you, Captain.”

“Aren’t you gonna text her?”

“Oh, Nico,” she jeers, using her free hand to grasp him by the chin. “Dear, sweet, naive Nico,” she gives his head a subtle shake before patting at his shoulder condescendingly, “She’s already on her way.”

If anyone asks, Nico isn’t admitting to keeping an eye on the door since Nia had made her way back over to her side of the bar, but he knows as soon as Poppy has arrived. He watches her make her way over to her friend, watches the two of them embrace and talk between themselves for a good minute. He watches and waits until her eyes meet his from across the crowded room, and it’s like everything else stops.

He’d somehow managed to immerse himself in the party spirit since he had found out she was coming, fitting back into the group, toasting along with them, engaging in conversations with his teammates, his mood vastly improved in comparison to earlier in the night - of which he’s sure Timo is relieved after his short-lived exile from Nico’s good graces — but everything fades to black when he sees her lips curve upwards from afar.

Someone is talking beside him - hopefully not to him, he thinks, he doesn’t remember being mid-discussion with anyone - but it’s just drowned out mumbling right now, and all he can do is tilt his head toward the doors that lead to the bathrooms, and wait for her to respond. When she nods and separates herself from Nia, he excuses himself from the group, edging out of their section and following her path, losing her a little in the thick crowd of people - the bar still packed from where they had played the Giants game earlier.

When he gets through the doors, he’s thankful no one else is lingering back there - no rowdy queue for the bathroom, no staff, no one but him and the girl who seems to be holding his heart like a hot potato, not knowing the best way to carry it without getting burned.

“Hi.” It’s a weak starter for a heavy conversation, but if he’s honest with himself, she’s taken his breath away.

The picture from before hadn’t done her justice. She’s a little worn into her look for the evening now, hair not so neat, skin a little shiny, lipstick faded - but this is exactly how he likes her, especially when he takes in the way her eyes gleam and her cheeks puff out with her smile.

He makes a conscious effort not to let his eyes drift directly to the smile - to her lips, which even the thought of them elicits such a vivid memory.

“Surprise!” she sings quietly, arms outstretched and hands shaking theatrically.

He steps toward her with his hands behind his back, fingers clasped together until he’s confident that his knuckles turn white, fighting the urge to curl his arm around her waist and pull her into him, needing to be closer. He watches intently as her eyes flick down to where his hands should be.

She backs into the wall behind her, not to escape his approach, but more to prepare herself for it - like she’s settling in and embracing it.

She isn’t running. She isn’t pushing.

She’s waiting.

“I’ve missed you.” Nico wastes no time in telling her the truth - telling her what she’s refused to believe every other time he’s said it, but he can tell with the tilting of her head and the rounding of her eyes that understanding has settled within her. She has no comeback, no it’s only been a few days, and he thinks she must have felt the drag of them in the same way.

“I’ve missed you, too.” 

Whatever anxiety has rooted itself deep inside him for the past 4 days dissipates almost immediately. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” He admits, without shame or reluctance. After Poppy had helped him overcome whatever had been censoring him before, there is no point now in holding back or beating around the bush. “You look so good, Mohn.”

A rush of confidence allows for him to close the gap, standing right before her as she leans against the wall, neck craning ever so slightly to look up at him. He still won’t touch, hands laying against the stone at either side of her hips, not daring yet to let even a sliver of his finger graze at her flesh.

“You look good, too.” She breathes, eyes glancing down to do an appreciative once over of his outfit, and he doesn’t miss the glint of pride cross through her eyes when she catches the glimpse of the gold that peaks out from the neck of his sweatshirt. 

“I’m sorry about your date.”

“Are you?” Her lips twist into a knowing smile. It’s an example of one of her many traits that he loves - she can detect his bullshit a mile off.

“Mmhm,” he nods, “I’m sorry a world exists where any man is stupid enough to stand you up, Poppy.”

“I’m the stupid one,” she argues, and he misses her gaze as soon as she takes it away, eyes darting to the floor in embarrassment. “I should have listened to you and cancelled in the first place.”

“I was stupid to ask that.”

“Maybe we’re both stupid.”

“Definitely.” He probably shouldn’t be agreeing to her calling herself stupid, but it comes out before he can think too much on it. They’ve both wasted too much time. 

“Did you have a good birthday?” She asks, and a slight movement between them catches his eye, her fingers twisting together as if she’s withholding her touch, too.

“It’s better now.” He smiles fondly as she rolls her eyes. 

“How are your family?”

“They’re good.” He doesn’t want to go into too much detail about how shamefully miserable he has been over the past few days - doesn’t want to tell her how his mom had called him out on his lack of contribution to conversations, and he’d managed to pin it on the stress of the season. She still raises a brow at his insufficient answer, and he expands before she can tell him off. ���Everyone but Luca made it out, my sister had to go back already for work, but my parents booked a trip to Halifax to visit the Phillips’, I lived with them when I played up there, they have a few friends to visit in Canada but they’ll drop back to see me again before they fly home.”

He feels the tickle of soft fingertips at the inside of his arm, slowly grazing down as he speaks, and as he watches Poppy, he thinks she must not realise she’s doing it - letting intuition take over as she’s distracted by the conversation. He lets her take the lead on initiating any touching, and it takes all the restraint he has left not to barge through the door she’s attempting to slowly eke open. She’s the only person in the world who could make him audibly hear the metaphorical creaking.

“Did they get to watch you win?”

He doesn’t even know why he finds himself grinning at the question, but the tone in which she asks it bears a hint of pride. She had watched the game on Friday.

“My dad was pretty much in the stands in full gear, everything but the pads and skates, and my mom was repping Foundation merch, she’s run off across the border with my beanie.” He likes the way her face lights up.

“I’ll get you another.” She raises her other hand to card her fingers through his hair, and, for once, he’s thankful not to be wearing any sort of hat. The soft scratch of her nails is soothing, and he just about manages to stop himself leaning into her touch and purring like a cat.

That would be embarrassing.

He feels outnumbered, both of her hands on him, and it feels unfair not to be touching her - so when his thumb extends itself on the wall just beside her hip and strokes at the soft fabric of her dress until it’s softly digging in, he watches intently for any hesitation before he lays a palm flat against her side.

It feels like things are progressing both torturously slow and overwhelmingly fast at the same time. His heart feels like it’s slamming into either side of his ribcage, and like nothing else occupies his chest, the sound of it echoing as if banging on the walls of a deep, empty cavern.

“Did I already tell you how much I missed you?” He honestly can’t remember, but he’ll tell her again if he needs to.

The hand that had run through his hair rests now on the side of his head, her thumb swiping softly at his cheek as she cups the side of his face, and before he can even make sense of what is happening, he’s being pulled forward. 

He bends to her advances with quick reflexes to avoid clashing, and their noses bump just before their lips meet.

Her chest rolls forward until it presses into his, and both his hands grab at her sides to pull her flush against him, legs tangling, hips pushing together, bodies touching everywhere possible all the way up to their mouths. 

He gives her all the control otherwise, allows her to determine the pace, responding to her every move and every touch with fervour and heat. She pulls at him, one hand grasping at his sweatshirt and the other cradling the side of his neck, and he quickly lifts one to stifle the blow to her head as she collides back with the wall, barely noticing the pain where his knuckles meet the stone.

Their tongues press together at the same time, and Nico doesn’t even realise his lack of patience got the better of him until their battle for dominance kicks off between their lips.

He can taste the same vanilla lip balm, can smell her signature coconut scent, can hear soft, subtle moans, can only see the back of his eyelids, not daring to open them, just wanting to feel. And he can feel everything. 

He feels the softness of her hair beneath the hand that is protecting her head from the discomfort of resting against the hard surface behind her, can feel the skirt of her dress bunching up in his grip, can feel her touch, fingertips dancing at the the base of his skull, thumb pressing into his jaw, her other hand making that same grabby gesture at the thick fabric covering his torso, squished between his heart and her chest, and he thinks he can feel the thump of her own heart on the other side.

He can feel her thigh pressed between his, the friction causing a heat to build deep in the pit of his stomach, swirling and whirling down, down, down until it culminates into the hard press of his hips into hers, and a rushed gasp combined with a guttural groan causes their lips to part.

They take deep breaths in unison, their chests bumping with every inhale, and he tries otherwise not to move.

He opens his eyes to find hers still closed, scrunched shut, even, and he tries not to be selfish - ignores the need to get a good look at her, to have this version of her ingrained to his memory too - and attempts to coax her back to him.

“Poppy,” he sounds just about as breathless as he feels. “Are you good?”

She hums in response, a subtle nod given, but he needs to hear her say it, and he tells her as much with a quick squeeze to her hip. Her eyes flutter open, gleaming and bright, framed by thick lashes and crinkling slightly at the outer corners as her lips turn up into a mischievous grin. “Better now.”

His chest feels like it’s about to burst open, like there’s a bear within him that is going to break out and pull her into its clutches, dragging her back safe to her home in his heart.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks, because he has to - he doesn’t care if it’s rude to leave his own birthday party, doesn’t care that he’s been the most ungrateful person in the world all night.

He’ll make it up to Timo, get him something big the next birthday of his that rolls around. Throw him a party. Or he’ll take care of the tab the next time they’re out. Maybe even let him have the window seat the next time they’re on the same plane home. 

Except, he won’t be doing any of that. He’ll be taking the reins on booking flights and putting Timo straight into economy, smack-bang in the middle of a row surrounded by a family of 5, screaming kids, arguing parents, the back of his seat being kicked the whole 8 hours to Zurich.

Because, just as Poppy’s swollen lips part to accept his advances - as her chin lifts, about to drop with a big affirmative nod, and he’s about to get everything he’s wanted the past 4 days and beyond - the doors to the back swing open, and his 6 foot teammate stumbles through, arms outstretched as he notices the two of them practically intertwined.

“Here you are!” He exclaims, voice booming in comparison to the soft breathy tones he and Poppy had been previously speaking in. “Poppy, you made it!”

“Hi Timo,” Nico feels her retreat, feels her legs brush past his and back to her own space, her hand on his chest now the only part of her that touches him, and he follows her lead, taking his hands back and trying not to clench his jaw or his fists as she converses with the man who was once his friend. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright, should be back on the ice in a couple weeks.” Timo had suffered an injury in one of their games at the back end of December, and hasn’t been fit to travel, and Nico finds an unspeakably bitter part of himself wishing it was something to do with Timo’s legs that were injured so he couldn’t have interrupted their moment. “Glad you’re here, this one has been miserable all night.”

He can’t be this oblivious, Nico thinks. Why is he still here? Why isn’t he retreating back to the bar and leaving the two of them to whatever he had clearly barged in on.

And when Nico looks back to his teammate, his long time friend, he sees the oh-so-evident glint of mischief and disobedience in his grey-blue eyes.

He is getting his own back.

Nico knows he was petulant to blame Timo for Poppy not being invited, knows there was nothing he could have done to change her going out on a date, or them not speaking for months while he was with Talia.

He doesn’t need him to enact his revenge to see he was wrong to ignore his texts, or to mope around at the party he had put so much effort into. 

He tries to give him a pleading look to stop whatever he is trying to do, but it’s no use.

“The guys will want to see you, Poppy, Jack’s beating himself up about his shoulder, could use a friendly face.”

“Oh,” Poppy casts a glance back to Nico, and he gives her a nod, implying that she go see to her friend. “I’ll go find him.” 

He can wait. He’s waited 4 days. He’s waited years, in fact.

And, after that kiss, he knows he won’t have to wait much longer. 

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” Nico mutters in their shared native language once he’s watched Poppy disappear through the doors to the bar, with a quick glance back and an apologetic smile before they closed. 

“Just saving my brooding captain from being arrested for public indecency,” Timo shrugs with a shit-eating grin as he passes Nico and heads toward the bathrooms further down the hall. “You’re welcome!” He calls back in English, raising his hands and giving a patronising thumbs up.

Nico runs a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face and wishing it was Poppy’s in its place.

It’s just an hour, maybe two, in the presence of his friends. Drinks, music, everyone in a good mood for the most part. It’s hardly like he’s walking out into a press conference after a 5 game losing streak and about to have all the blame placed upon his shoulders. 

It’s a party. 

Poppy’s here.

He can do this.

He can wait.

Next Chapter

taglist: @alwaysclassyeagle @bunbunbl0gs @idgaf-if-youre-here @youflowerr-youfeast @thearchersstuff @bellsdi0r @wonderheartz @jjgsunflower @butterflies35 @kenziepickle @josierosie @laheyxlover @mrsmattytkachuk (sorry if your tag hasn't worked btw or if I forgot you I'm a muppet tbh)

[junvibing]

Artfully Yours

pairing: art major renjun! x fem!reader; youtuber!renjun

warnings: lots of art and ramen, renjun is very much in love, college

summary: Renjun wants to get you something special for your birthday. He has two problems though: 1. there's not much time left, 2. he's a perfectionist. But hey, at least Chenle gave him the perfect idea. Now, he only has to finish in time and hope you'll love it.

wc: 12.5k

a/n: I've been working on this on and off for around a year lol. Anyways I really like it and I hope you do too! Leave me feedback haha this is my first long fanfic and honestly it's special to me :') <3

song recommendation: Like we just met - nct dream

credit for art inspo: matlagesilke3 on pinterest

The second Renjun got home, he prepared to spend the rest of the day working on a drawing. Since it's due for tomorrow's Drawing II class, he really needs to put his energy into finishing it today. His art projects are often accompanied with him staying up into the nights to perfect them. Sometimes while painting his thoughts drift away and he starts thinking about other things. This tendency surely adds to him staying up late but for today he hopes he’ll be able to finish before midnight. That’s why Renjun starts gathering his materials quickly before sitting down at his desk. His room is a little messy but college is stressful and an art major is no exception. Especially since he is somewhat of a perfectionist but he couldn’t imagine studying anything else other than art. For as long as Renjun can remember, he was always interested in it. The way colors dance on the paper, the way they blend into each other or how he can create anything he wants and get lost in the process - he just loves it. One of his favorite things is to try out different art mediums and see how they work, how comfortable he could get with them and if he’ll resort back to them in the future. Over the years, he discovered that he loves painting with oil paints and watercolors the most as they bring him great joy and the best results. Both mediums can be tricky at the beginning and it wasn’t much different for him when he started out but proper practice helped a lot. However, Renjun also enjoys drawing on his tablet, which is especially useful if he wants to post his work online. 

In his opinion, art is meant to be shared and what better way is there to reach lots of people than sharing it online? That's why he had started to post his art on Twitter when he was still in middle school. Whenever someone retweeted his art, he felt so elated, it pushed him to continue sharing his work. In high school he even started exploring with posting videos on YouTube, all related to art of course. Jisung, his classmate and one of his best friends, had encouraged him to just go for it and soon enough his other friends had joined in. Thinking back to his very first YouTube video, Renjun lets out a chuckle. Dang, I was so nervous. Shaking his head, he continues sketching. The thing is he never used to show his face on Twitter, it was all about his art and creativity but with the encouraging words of Jisung and his other friends, he dared to show his face on YouTube, alongside his art of course. The first video Renjun ever posted was of him drawing Moomin fan art. Over the years, his channel actually gained quite a bit of attraction and while in high school, he would often daydream about making money with his artwork even though he knew his parents wouldn’t really support him in pursuing such a career. As far as Renjun knew, his parents wanted him to get a “real” career. But he spent most of his free time either with his friends or sketching, drawing and painting. 

I still do that. Renjun sits at his desk, room dimly lit and pencil in his right hand. But y/n’s in the picture as well now. He grew up with art and it accompanied him throughout his ups and downs. He loves being creative, that’s why he had decided to go through with applying for a fine arts major when the time came around. However, his parent’s opinion and support was important to him. So at the time, he had a serious talk with them. Renjun knew they only had his best interest at heart. Naturally, they want him to be successful in life and it’s important to his parents that their only child has a good and comfortable life. They imagined for him to pursue a high paying, high status job like being a lawyer. His parents couldn’t picture how studying art would provide him with something like that. To them, pursuing an art career was too unstable, too risky. But Renjun managed to show them different ways in how he actually could be successful with it. He would do internships, could go into graphic design, could become an illustrator or go as far as to become an art instructor. There are different paths he would be able to take that would pay him well and hearing that eventually convinced his parents. Of course, Renjun had been overjoyed about that. He still is actually. All his life, art was one of the things that brought him the most happiness and his parents supported him in pursuing it as a career. What else could he wish for?

Turns out, there really was something else he could have wished for. He only knew it after you entered his life though. Renjun occasionally thinks back to how you two met. Out of nowhere, his mind sometimes drifts to the first time he saw you. Just like right now. The window in his room lets little light shine through, the sun is almost fully set at this point and the only other light source is the lamp on his desk, illuminating a bottle of milk and a few pieces of fruit. Renjun’s project for tomorrow is a still life, an art depiction of inanimate objects. It is pretty normal for him to drift off when he was monotonously sketching away, which is exactly what he is doing right now. His pen glides easily on the paper in front of him while he thinks back to his second semester. Renjun never really used to be a person who obsessed over relationships. His mind was filled with other things like ideas for art videos. In fact, he actually used to be the type who didn’t believe in love at first sight, which Jaemin thought was crazy by the way. But you kinda proved Renjun wrong. 

He still remembers the day clearly. It was fall and Mark invited you to come hang out with the boys. The dreamies, as Haechan likes to call their friend group, were still great friends even if they didn’t see each other everyday like they did back in high school. Mark actually mentioned your name before, it wasn’t your first time hanging out with the boys either but the few times you were with them, Renjun couldn’t make it, so he only officially met you in his second semester. Crazy, almost two and a half years ago. He can still remember exactly how he reacted to seeing you for the first time. The second Renjun’s eyes landed on you, the things and people around him somehow were moving in slow motion. To say he was intrigued by you would’ve been an understatement. You looked so mesmerizing, smiling at whatever Jisung was saying while the evening sun hit your face in the most beautiful way. Renjun felt like he was looking at the prettiest painting he ever laid his eyes on. All the beautiful, intricate art he saw over the years didn't compare to you and he immediately wanted to introduce himself. From that day onwards you joined his dear collection of things he loves to draw the most. 

It actually didn’t take long for Renjun to ask you out as there was no way he would be able to let you slip through his fingers. Over the years, your relationship has been going strong. Just like art you've become a constant in Renjun’s life that he wishes to never lose. With time, he even introduced you on his YouTube channel. It took a little convincing but after a while you were able to put your shyness away and join him in a vlog. Renjun smiles, thinking back to your first video together. Back then, he had decided to participate in the challenge of drawing under a blue light and you tagged along in his vlog at the beginning. It was fun for both of you and Renjun’s subscribers enjoyed seeing you guys together. The comments were flooded with how cute the two of you were and requests for you to join him more on his channel. But for today, Renjun's plans don’t include any art challenge. It’s time to finish this still life. He needs the day tomorrow for something else, something more important. 

The next day, with a fresh mind and his still life finished, Renjun prepares for a different project. There is still a bit of time left before he needs to get to class, so he wants to use it to start before it's time to turn in his still life. Renjun has something special planned for you. Your birthday is just around the corner and he had been unsure on what to get you. Last year he got you a beautiful necklace with a butterfly charm. “To show you my appreciation” is what he had said when putting it on you. Renjun never wanted to stop feeling warm and fuzzy inside when he was with you. For this year’s gift, he was thinking about decor for your dorm room since you moved recently. Yet for some reason, whenever he was strolling through stores, keeping an eye out for a suitable gift, he felt like nothing fit perfectly. You don’t really need a new rug or pillows. Your room is already decorated with various plants. Just getting you a few scented candles like Mark suggested was too plain. Getting a mug was out of the question as it’s not special enough for you. Not to mention a mug technically isn’t decor. Although it could be. However, Renjun wanted to get you something special, something that shows he put thought into it and when speaking to Chenle about it the other day, he suggested the perfect idea: painting you a picture. 

Naturally, Renjun drew small pictures for you over the course of your relationship and you cherished every single one of it but he never created a proper painting for you. Almost outrageous, how come he never did that for his girlfriend? Even Jeno did it at some point for his girlfriend. Or tried at least. Nevertheless, she loved it and Renjun still remembers your reaction actually. You and her go way back, having met during middle school. Naturally, you only ever wished the best for your best friend. So of course, seeing her that happy about Jeno’s gift, had put a smile on your face. You even laughed a little, seeing her show it off to the others. Thinking back, that should’ve been Renjun’s first clue to paint you something for your birthday. But at least he came around now, even if it is a little overdue. As soon as he had decided to paint you something to put on your wall, he had brainstormed for ideas. His still life project got in the way so he couldn’t start earlier but today is finally the day he can turn his draft for your gift into the beginnings of a painting. Last week, Renjun sat down and thought about what he wanted to paint for you and since the painting is supposed to fit your room well, he had decided to go with an enchanted forest. He feels like it would complement the various plants in your room nicely. A dark forest with colorful sparks throughout would be the perfect eye catcher for your plain white dorm wall. He had decided to draw two particular trees to accentuate the centerpiece of his painting: a magical path that’s curving to the right. Renjun feels very confident about the idea, so much so that he had decided to film a YouTube video around it: “Painting for my gf’s birthday”, where he documents the process of his painting and captures your reaction to the present. 

That’s why he sits in his chair right now, camera on his desk and films himself. His subscribers will surely enjoy seeing this. “Hi painters, so my girlfriend’s bday is just around the corner and I’ve been struggling quite a bit with finding a gift. I can’t just get her an ordinary gift, you know me. So I was thinking and searching and man almost gave up but my friend literally saved the day.“ Renjun salutes to the camera. “谢了, 哥们.“ ”So anyway, I decided to go with his idea of painting for her, hence this video. I was brainstorming in advance and already did a vague sketch of my idea.“ Renjun holds his sketchbook into the camera so his viewers can see the enchanted forest. “You can see it’s supposed to be a forest. I wanna add different colored sparks to it and make the path here a blueish white to give it a fairy, enchanted type of feel.” Renjun traced the path with his finger and then mentioned two particular trees. “The big trees in the front that bend over and form a heart accentuate the magical path nicely. I also added a little pond. I really like it and I think y/n will like it as well.” Renjun adjusts the camera to show his canvas and him. For the next thirty minutes, he hunches over his desk, sketching his draft carefully onto the canvas. Since this is supposed to be the centerpiece of your wall, Renjun bought a big canvas last week. It is supposed to be an eye-catcher after all. As the time passes and he finishes sketching, he stands up to look at his work. “Okay that’s good enough.” Renjun looks into the camera. “I’ll stop for now cause I have class in about forty minutes. But I’ll see you later tonight when I continue. Y/n’s bday is literally in 9 days and you know how it goes with oil paints, long drying times. So I need it to be done one day before her bday, meaning there’s no time to slack off.” Renjun takes the camera into his hand and smiles before moving his hand in front of the lens. “Only the best for my babe.” 

Hours later, Renjun is setting up his camera again. After his last class for today, art history, he got some lunch with the boys in the dining hall. Mark and Haechan had class though, so the group wasn’t complete. The boys catched up a little but Renjun didn’t want to spend too much time eating. There was still a project awaiting him at home after all. That’s why he only had a small chicken salad. Jaemin talked about how his professor has been kicking his butt with reading assignments for class and to be fair, Renjun could understand. There was just something unpleasant about having to read two 15 page papers about the causes and consequences of the French revolution. But Jaemin chose to major in history education. Although Renjun knows it’s not Jaemin's fault for having an unpleasant professor. Chenle, however, hadn’t been that interested in his friend’s distress. “Glad I don’t have to deal with that”, is what he had said. “Yeah, you need to deal with statistical models dude, gross” Jaemin really doesn’t like math. But, the boys were all able to agree that college workload is a lot, whether one studies education or economics. “Chill guys”, Jeno had taken a bite of his pizza slice, “Jun, how’s it going with y/n’s gift?” Well, Renjun still has lots to do, which is why he had used that opportunity to briefly explain his progress and bid his friends goodbye to go straight to his dorm.

“I’m back, people. I turned in a project and I had art history today which wasn’t so great. It has the touch of being boring sometimes but it’s okay, let‘s continue.” Renjun turns his camera to show the sketch he made earlier today. “This is what we’re working with. It’s time to bring some color into this. I don’t wanna waste much time, so let’s begin.” He pulls his easel out and places the canvas on it. The camera is pointing at him and the canvas again but this time he is standing in the middle of his room. After opening a window, he starts with mixing light gray and dark brown. Oil paints don’t have the nicest smell, so it’s good to have a window or two open while painting. This way, Renjun can maximize the time he is able to paint before getting a headache. “Since I don’t have much time for this painting, I’ll use a fast drying medium. Hopefully this way the painting will be dry on time for y/n’s bday.” Renjun starts with a medium sized brush to paint a thin layer of light gray on the middle of his canvas, where fog would later shine through the trees. The next step is to use brown to block in the general shape of the trees. The two bend trees forming a heart take up quite a bit of space on the left and right side of his canvas. Later on, he wants to spend time on the details to tie everything in. Renjun, like most artists, finds it better to start with the general shape of things and work himself up to the smaller, more detailed parts of a painting. 

After almost two hours of painting, he takes a small break to get a snack. I should still have a pack of ramen left somewhere. Of course, only if his roommate Jay didn’t eat it. After locating the ramen and preparing it quickly, Renjun places his camera in front of him. “As you can see, I took a break guys. I’m sitting in the kitchen right now since I don’t want to expose myself to the smell of the paint unnecessarily. I only have a little bit of the background left. So, I think I should be able to finish in about twenty minutes or so.” Renjun turns his camera off to continue eating. Conveniently enough for him, you video call him while he's still eating. So, he wasn’t rushed to get out of his room to hide his painting from you. Renjun answers your call while positioning his phone against the fruit bowl on the table. “Hi babe, hold up.” After his phone is stable, he smiles at you. “How was your day?” Seeing Renjun after a long day makes you sigh and smile at him. You just wanted to see him and hear his voice for a while to feel better. “Exhausting, I had so much class today and work was a mess.” You pout. You work at a coffee shop downtown a few days a week to save up some money. Sadly, more often than not, you have to deal with difficult customers. “I’m sorry to hear that, love. Did you just get home?” You nod. It is way past nine in the evening and you were ready to go to sleep in a bit, ideally with Renjun cuddling you but that won’t happen today. “Jun, how come you’re eating at this hour?” You know he doesn’t usually eat this late as he doesn’t like to go to bed with a full stomach. Renjun quickly tries to come up with a plausible answer. He doesn’t want to tell you that he spent a good portion of the day painting your gift. “I had a bit of a light lunch today, went out with the boys but didn’t eat too much.” That technically wasn’t a lie either. During lunch he was eager to go back home to paint your gift but the boys insisted he ate at least something before spending hours on it. Renjun and you spend the next ten minutes talking, before he sents you a kiss through the camera and you hang up for the night. 

After washing his bowl, he goes back to his room. He could feel a headache approaching but was determined to finish the background today. Soon enough, around thirty minutes later, Renjun picks up his camera again. “I’m finished with the background guys. This is how it looks so far.” He turns the camera to show the canvas in detail and zooms in a little. At this point, it looks like a simple foggy forest with tall, leafless trees. Renjun will worry about the details later, for now this is good enough. “Quite simple but that’s fine for today. Hopefully it’ll be dry by tomorrow so I can continue after classes. See you then.” Renjun quickly changes into his pajamas and brushes his teeth to go to bed but not before making sure to keep his window open. 

Wednesday morning comes around and Renjun wakes up in his chilly room. He doesn’t mind it that much since he needs to get to class soon anyway. His Wednesdays are usually packed with classes. But thankfully, they are ones he mostly enjoys, Ceramics, Contemporary Art, Digital Media and lastly Painting II. After quickly eating breakfast and getting dressed, he was ready to start the day. Today, Renjun and you are actually planning to get lunch together. Wednesdays and Fridays were set dates where you would either hang out in between classes and snack on a few things or eat lunch together. Renjun loves doing small, simple things with you like snacking on sandwiches together. Since you’ve been busy lately with your part time job at the coffee shop, he hasn’t been able to spend lots of time with you. He made an effort to show up at your workplace every other day or so but seeing you for fifteen minutes just wasn’t enough, which is why he looked forward to today. As soon as his fourth class finishes, he makes a beeline to the door. 

You were supposed to meet next to the library and just as agreed he sees you standing there, smiling down at your phone. You’re wearing one of his hoodies and jeans, quite simple but you still manage to look great. As if you had a feeling he was coming your way, you look up. Renjun kisses your cheek, “Hi love, missed you.” He holds out his hand for you. Putting your hand in his, you start walking towards a convenience store nearby campus. “Junnie, how was class? Did you manage to finish your charcoal drawing from last week?” A few weeks ago in Painting II, Renjun's professor introduced the topic of shading with paint. His professor gave a deadline of one week to turn in a small charcoal drawing and today they had the first hour of class to finish it. The assignment was only intented to be a supplementary technique though. It would help to understand contrast and value as a basis for shading with paint. Charcoal isn’t a medium Renjun uses often, so he chose a somewhat simple object to draw, a vase full of your favorite flowers, tulips. “Yeah, I managed to finish it within the last ten minutes. The shading was a little tricky though. I’m not too satisfied with it but you know my perfectionist self.” Renjun smiles sheepishly. You know he takes his art seriously and has a tendency to focus a little too much on the details. Sometimes he would ask you to have a look at this work since your input helped him and over time he learned that looking at his art with a fresh set of eyes always worked. Nevertheless, in your opinion, he always manages to create something that was beautifully executed.

On the way to the supermarket you tell him about your day, how boring class was and how your professor gave you tons of reading material for the next class. Renjun knows you have a thing for reading, hence your English literature major but he never understood how you were able to survive reading so much for your degree. He enjoys reading from time to time but having to read pages upon pages of who knows how old literature and analyzing it all in class never had much appeal to him. Nevertheless, he listens attentively to you and after you both get some snacks that Renjun kindly carries, you walk back to campus to your favorite spot near the economics department. Just a few minutes away from the main building were a few benches looking out at the gardening club’s flower field. You and Renjun love to sit on one of them and enjoy the beauty of different flowers together. Thankfully, one of the benches isn’t occupied so you both can sit down and enjoy your break together. Every year, the gardening club arranges their flowers in different themes. A few months ago in summer the theme was “beach sun set”. For this, their flower field basically consisted of flowers in three colors: blue, orange and yellow. Since the season has already changed, a new theme is in place at the moment. This winter, the gardening club focussed on winter themed food by using white and red roses arranged in a way that looked like a candy cane and so on. Renjun likes the idea of different themes, it was nice to see the club have fun with being creative. In a way they're creating their own art. 

An hour later, Renjun walks you to your next class and squeezes your hand lovingly before making his way home. He is happy that he got to spend some quality time with you, even if it wasn’t very long. While walking back, he is mentally preparing a list of what he needs to paint next for your gift. Since the background was finished and hopefully dry, the next step would be to go into more detail by giving the trees more depth, properly outlining their roots and branches. Renjun also wants to add more color accents to the trees by painting green and slightly bluish leaves. He wants to mimic moon light shining through the forest. It would cast onto the leaves of the trees and give them a light blue tint. As soon as Renjun arrives home, he continues filming his painting process. “Hi painters, I’m back for the next round. Right now it's Wednesday afternoon, meaning I have exactly 6 days left for this painting to finish, so it can still dry in time. Let's go!” The next hours of Renjun’s day consisted of his open window, the smell of oil paints and color on his fingers. At one point, he did actually take a small break to eat, even his roommate Jay made an appearance. Renjun gets along just fine with him but both prefer to stay in their respective rooms, meaning they don't see each other often. He literally is just his roommate, still a cool guy though. One time Jay even asked him for some art advice. Renjun didn't really imagine him to be the type of guy to be interested in art, but turns out he wanted to try out something new. Of course, Renjun was happy to help and advise. Maybe this time for his painting he would ask Jay for his opinion. 

Thursday flew by him it seemed. Renjun got in and out of class, worked on another assignment and met up with the dreamies. He didn’t continue to paint on the canvas because it was still too wet. Time is worrying him a little bit since the paint takes longer to dry than he likes and he still needs to do quite a bit. But he'll push through. Renjun is determined to finish your gift one day before your birthday and there's no way he'll give you an unfinished painting.

The next day, your Friday lunch break falls short because of an essay you have to finish. However, this gives Renjun more time to perfect his painting for you, which he feels like he really needs. He spent so much time working on it, yet he still isn’t satisfied with the outcome. In fact, he feels like the painting was nowhere near being finished in time. There is something about the way he placed the sparks that he doesn't like. The thing is, he can’t really pinpoint why exactly he doesn't like it. They just aren't really “flying” in the air well enough. Some are too close together, others too far apart. In a way it doesn't look natural enough, but that in itself doesn't make any sense, cause no normal forest has such sparks flying through it. Renjun was expecting them to deepen the magical feeling of the forest, but for some reason he couldn’t portray that feeling onto the canvas in a satisfactory way. Regardless, a few spots shouldn't be enough to give him the feeling of not liking the placement of the sparks overall, right?

To be frank, he is very frustrated. So, at one point he decides to vent to his camera. “I know I’m too nitpicky. But I just want it to look perfect for y/n. I also know she will like my painting regardless. Heck, she probably wouldn’t mind if I doodled her something as a present. But I want it to be deserving of being in her room. I want her to love my painting and me to like it as well.” Renjun wipes a hand down his face. “Maybe I’ve been on this for too long. It’s already past 7 pm and I’ve been working on this painting since I ate lunch. Or maybe time is just stressing me. There are only a few days left and I still need to work on the details.” Renjun decides he needs a break, a fresh breath of air. Maybe the oil paint smell is messing too much with his ability to create. Whatever the case is, he decides to go by your workplace and see you. Your smile would definitely help him feel better. 

As soon as you see Renjun walking through the door of the coffee shop, you have a smile on your face. Your work day is slowly coming to an end and even though most customers today weren’t that difficult to handle, working a long shift naturally tires your body out, which is why it's a pleasant surprise to see your boyfriend. “Junnie, what are you doing here?” Seeing you standing behind the counter smiling at him, gives Renjun a warm and comfy feeling. It was like all of his worries evaporated into thin air as soon as your beautiful face smiled up at him. “Hi love, came to see you. I needed a fresh breath of air.” You walk around the counter to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, the rag still in your left hand. As expected, his insides are feeling fuzzy again.

You’ve always had that effect on him. Renjun didn’t really mind holding your hand in public or you leaning on him, but kisses, even if only on the cheek, are something intimate to him, so he only really initiates them in public if he really misses you. Otherwise they are kept for when you two are in private. “Trouble with painting again?” Renjun smiles sheepishly. Of course, you would figure him out. But he doesn’t mind and fortunately, you don’t know what exactly he was painting. “Yeah, I think I’ve been on it for a bit too long. You and a nice cup of tea will surely help.” Renjun isn’t a big fan of coffee, he preferred drinking tea over coffee any day. Whenever he comes around the coffee shop you work at, he either orders tea or just some pastry to snack on, sometimes both if he feels like looking at you a little longer. Often Renjun thinks about how pretty you look and about how he could watch you for hours. He realizes that thought might be creepy but you didn’t mind when he told you about it one day. It’s him after all, not some stranger. 

You quickly wipe down the table before going behind the counter again to prepare his drink. Today, Renjun chose to drink lemon tea. Being the nice girlfriend that you are, you gave him a small cookie on the side as well. Sadly, he can’t spend much time talking to you as new customers come in. That‘s why he sits down at a table and enjoys his tea and the cookie. How nice it would be if we could just sit on my bed and talk. Or rather on her bed, can’t have her seeing the painting. Occasionally, he looks over to see you wiping down tables and you wink at him. He was right, a tea and you definitely help to calm his mind. Renjun spends about twenty minutes in the coffee shop before he gets up and gives you a sweet goodbye. It is time to return to the dorm and continue his painting.

For now, he plans to continue with a few details of trees. Maybe having a fresh look at the sparks tomorrow is a better idea. Not counting today, 5 days were left till your birthday, which meant he effectively has 2 to 3 days left to paint since oil paint, even with a quick drying medium, still needs comparatively long to dry. After working for about half an hour on the details of the trees in the back, Renjun feels a little better about his painting. He takes this as an incentive to end the day with a positive feeling and grabs his camera again. “Okay guys, I’m calling it quits for today. It’s about 8 pm already. I think it’s better to tackle the sparks tomorrow. ” Renjun quickly shows the current state of his painting before he turns off the camera. 

The next day is a Saturday, meaning Renjun has all day to paint and he wakes up with a good feeling. He quickly eats breakfast and immediately wants to get to painting, so he sets up his camera to further film his painting process. It’s time to focus on the sparks. The ones he already painted were in different colors, namely pink, yellow, blue and red. But looking at his canvas with a fresh set of eyes, he realizes they were not bright enough for his liking. They aren’t really sparkling. Maybe the feeling he got last evening of them not “flying” in the forest nicely was caused by that. He needs to paint in such a way that they look like they were actually sparkling. Renjun has the revelation that he needs to add highlights to the sparks. Adding highlights to them would ensure that the sparks stand out more against the forest, making them more interesting and giving the painting a more refined look. He likes that approach. Maybe he can even place the highlights in such a way that it would have the effect of letting single sparks look more apart from others. This way his problem of the placement of some sparks would be solved, at least to some extent. 

For the next hour Renjun works on adding enough highlights and blending around the sparks. He also adds a few more sparks to the forest. Taking a few steps back from his canvas, he regards the result. This time, Renjun definitely likes it a lot more. The sparks look nice against the dark forest and shine in different colors. It felt realistic and he was happy with the outcome so far. He grabs his camera, “Finally guys, I managed to paint the sparks in a way I’m satisfied with. I had the realization this morning that I needed to add highlights to them and I'm happy to report that it was a good idea.” Renjun shows his viewers the current state of his painting. “I’m thinking of continuing with the details of the two bent trees in the front. I only have a few days left to paint and I still need to work on the details of the pond.” Renjun puts his camera back on his desk again, before facing the canvas. These two trees still need leaves and defined roots. He wants to make them look like they are quite old.

Basically, Renjun spent the rest of his day painting, except for the occasional toilet and food break. After hours in front of his canvas, his head hurts. His bedroom is cold because of the opened window, yet he still feels the effects of the oil paint. Whatever. I need to continue at least a little bit more. At this point, the two trees forming a heart are finished. Renjun added a few bushes to the forest as well and moss around the pond. Since he had decided to make the path leading to the pond a blueish white, he worked on that as well. This way, it seems like the moon lights it up. Of course, he also needs to add highlights to the crown of the trees. He thinks about whether to make them a different color, but ultimately decides to go with the same blueish white since it ties in better with his concept of the moon shining down on the forest. Renjun wants to finish that part today, before calling it quits for tonight. It should take him under half an hour to finish this detail and then he can enjoy a bowl of ramen before going to bed.

The following day, Renjun can’t really continue working on his painting since it needs to dry, so he mainly spends the day working on his art history essay that is due for Tuesday’s class. He already had planned it ahead, which is why he had mainly focused on his painting for you yesterday. Since it needed to dry for him to continue, Renjun can use today for his assignment. He needs to write an essay about the way leadership and power gets depicted in art. For that he had to choose a picture to analyze and write about. Renjun knows he is pushing it a bit late but since he doesn’t plan to work on anything else today, he figures it’s fine. He’s sure that he can finish the assignment today and if not, he still has a bit of tomorrow left. It is only supposed to be four pages long anyway. How hard can that be, right? Well turns out a little harder than he had thought. Renjun spends around three hours in front of his laptop before he decides to take a break. I really should eat something. After all this writing his brain needs energy and a break. Standing up from his desk, he turns around and his gaze falls on the canvas in his room. Renjun inspects it carefully from a distance and actually likes the result. Of course, it still isn’t finished. He definitely needs to add a few more details. The bend trees need to look more interesting and realistic. A few more details on the trees in the back would be good. Maybe I also should add a few more sparks-– his finger twitches. There is nothing more that Renjun wants in this moment than to grab his brush and continue painting, perfecting your present. But right now is not the time. He shakes his head lightly. Still needs to dry. 

Trying to get his thoughts away from the painting, Renjun decides on what show to watch while he eats something. Surprisingly, he has been enjoying a Chinese drama you recommended lately, but maybe watching the next 40-minutes episode isn’t such a great idea with an unfinished essay sitting on his desk. So he decides to just watch a YouTube video. Twenty minutes later, Renjun sits at his desk again and continues with his essay. That’s basically how he spends his whole afternoon. Around 6 pm he is actually almost finished with the essay. That’s why he decides to get up and go into the kitchen to make some ramen. He knows that he ate a little too much ramen throughout the week but they are really just so convenient when he doesn't have much time to cook. 

However, on the way to the kitchen, his doorbell suddenly rings. Renjun isn’t expecting anyone, his roommate might have but Jay doesn’t come out of his room to open the door. So when the bell rings a second time, Renjun opens the door. To his surprise, it’s you. You stand there, smiling at him, dressed in an oversized jacket and plaid pajama pants, a small handbag on top of your right shoulder and a plastic bag in your left hand. As usual, you look cute and cozy but Renjun can’t really concentrate on that. He only stares at you. Why is she here? Did I miss something? And then it hits him. He curses in his head, you’re here for the movie night you both agreed on last week. Seems like amidst all the painting and college he forgot about it. Good going Renjun. You tilt your head a little to the side, “Baby, are you going to let me in?” Renjun’s mind immediately goes to your gift. Damn it, the painting’s still in my room! He can’t possibly let you see it. In panic, Renjun turns his head back, looking into the flat. He needs to come up with some kind of excuse right now, on the spot, “Love, babe, give me like 2 minutes okay, my room’s kinda messy”, he looks at you, his hand already resting on the door to close it. “Jun, you know I don’t care about that”, you step forward, laughing a little but he holds his ground. “No really, just give me like 5 minutes”, Renjun doesn’t give you any time to properly react and closes the door. 

Quickly jogging into his room, he looks around. He only needs to hide the canvas, his paints and brushes aren’t a problem. But where should he hide it? Behind the closet? No way, too risky. The kitchen, no it’s right next to the front door. And then it hits him. Jay! Carefully grabbing the canvas, Renjun quickly goes across the hall and knocks on his roommate’s door. “Listen dude, my girl’s just outside the door but I can’t have her see this painting. Can I please hide it in your room for a few hours?” Fortunately, Renjun and Jay get along well. “Oh yeah sure” Jay points to the corner next to his dresser, “you can put it there dude” Renjun quickly puts the painting down and thanks Jay like three times before he goes to get you. “Okay love, you can come in.” “Thank you for being so gracious, your highness” You jokingly bow down before entering, Renjun shakes his head, closes the door and grabs your hand. You do sometimes have this amusingly bizarre streak. “How come you suddenly felt the need to tidy up your room for me? Hiding something?”, you tease him. Renjun almost scratches his head. Surely, if he would’ve done that you would be more suspicious of him. “It’s just messy babe. I want you to be comfortable.” Humming, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. It sure seems like he didn’t expect you to come over today though. “Did you forget our movie night, Junnie?” Renjun smiles apologetically and nods, “Sorry love, promise, next time I won’t forget.” He squeezes your hand. Renjun normally isn’t the person to forget your dates. Spending time with you is one of his favorite things to do but even he can sometimes forget. You don’t mind, he’s also just human. Besides, you know Renjun had a couple of deadlines lately. 

Entering his room, the familiar sight of art materials, a few soda cans and an easel greets you. Renjun keeps his room mostly tidy except for whenever exam season hits and he has to deal with many art projects at the same time. Renjun’s habit of spending too much on details leads him to making full use of the deadlines, which in return stresses him out so much that he doesn’t bother a lot with cleaning. To you that’s fine, you aren’t much different in that aspect. Besides, why add more stress to exams by worrying about whether your room is clean or not. You make your way to his bed and put your handbag down, your gaze finding the empty easel in the middle of his room. That usually means he's working on something. “Jun, what have you been working on?” Renjun’s gaze quickly follows yours. Dang, should've put that away! Okay, just say something. Quick! “Ahh love, you know I have a few projects due soon. I’ve been spending a lot of time painting.” Renjun sits down next to you, nodding as if he was trying to reassure himself that he wasn’t caught by you. But technically he didn’t lie. Quickly trying to change the subject, he grabs your plastic bag. Before coming over to Renjun’s place, you quickly got a few snacks at a convenience store. “No movie without snacks right? Oh and I got you some ramen as well, Jun.” He looks inside the plastic bag, it contains chips in two different flavors, some gummy bears, his favorite ramen and pretzel snacks. “Thank you love, I should still have some soda in the fridge for us.” Renjun stands up and takes a step in the direction of the door but halts as you grab his wrist. “Jun, can we prepare the ramen now? I’m actually quite hungry, I haven't had dinner yet.” You’re hoping he agrees as the last thing you ate today was just a piece of toast a couple of hours ago. After your eight hour shift at work today you worked a little on an assignment before buying the snacks for tonight. Renjun immediately agrees, laughing a little. “Sure, I’ve literally wanted to make myself some ramen before you rang the bell.”

After cooking the ramen and grabbing two soda cans, you’re sitting on Renjun’s bed while turns off the lights before he grabs his laptop. Since he knows how much you like to have a few scented candles lit up while watching a movie, Renjun also does that before sitting cross-legged next to you and putting his blanket over you both. Turning on the third Harry Potter movie, you cuddle up to him and enjoy the evening together. Three weeks ago, Renjun and you had decided to rewatch all HP movies and so far you both enjoyed it very much. It’s been years since the last time you watched them, so you figured doing it together would be fun. That’s why you’ve met up with Renjun once a week for movie night, snacking away your worries and college stress for at least the few hours that you spend together with him. Sitting together under the blanket and just spending time together with him is one of your favorite things to do. It doesn't matter if you watch a movie or drink tea together, you just enjoy spending time in Renjun’s arms. How can you not? Renjun is just so good to cuddle. That’s why you always end up putting your head on his shoulder, hugging him and it’s no different today. Your head is resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. 

From time to time Renjun gives your body a little squeeze and feeds you snacks. He also sneaks a few glances at you. Seeing you so comfortable around him, makes his insides feel warm. So cute. He might love you a little more every time he sees you like this. You aren’t wearing any makeup and aren’t dressed up, yet you manage to make him attracted to you nonetheless. There is just something so attractive about you being your true self around him, not caring about how you look in your pajamas or how much you snack. Suddenly, Renjun feels the urge to kiss you. If only you weren’t so focused on the movie, “My love”. You hum as an answer, eyes still glued on the laptop screen. “Look at me please.” You lift your head off his shoulder and Renjun just looks at you lovingly. While you slowly sit up, he can only think about how you really are the most beautiful woman he set his eyes on. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he slowly leans in. Renjun believes there is nothing better in the world than moments like these. Moments where everything fades into the background and only you two seem to exist. Moments where he can be very close to you and his lips can meet yours in a loving and intimate way. Your lips are soft and smooth in such a way it feels like kissing the clouds. Your hand naturally finds its way into Renjun’s hair. His right hand cups your cheek while his lips move slowly against yours. His other hand rests on your waist and after a loving moment, Renjun tilts his head a little more to the side, deepening the kiss. His lips still taste a little of the ramen you two had earlier but you don’t mind. Kissing him is always great. In a sense, kissing him is like drinking a cup of hot cocoa on cold winter days. Renjun’s kisses give you comfort, warmth and a sense of belonging like you’ve never felt before. Even in very passionate moments, where kissing him stole your breath away, Renjun is caring and gentle. Just like now as he holds you a little closer, loving you a little more. His hand, previously on your cheek, moves down, stroking your waist. Slowly he pulls away, hands still on your waist. “I love you.” Truly, you’re one of the people that make him the happiest. Smiling, you lean into him to place your lips on his one more time, portraying your love for him. “I love you too.” Putting your head on his shoulder again, you notice the movie is still playing. Both of you return to watching and enjoying it further. 

Around halfway through the movie, the cozy atmosphere and dim lit room actually make you sleepy. You did have a long day today and after a while, Renjun notices your lack of comments and snacking. Turning his head to look at you, he sees you fast asleep on his shoulder. Not wanting you to be cold, he places the blanket further up your body and tightens his arm around you. Renjun is unsure about waking you. Since you don’t need to work tomorrow morning, you could sleep over today. It’s been quite a while anyway since the last time you slept over at his place. To be honest, he kind of misses falling asleep with you next to him. However, if you are to sleep over, the painting will need to stay in Jay’s room for the night. I guess I could ask him. He probably wouldn’t mind. Renjun decides he would ask. So he slowly begins to move your head from his shoulder, hoping you won't wake up. He really tries to be careful but apparently isn’t careful enough since you slowly start to wake up while he tries to lay your head down onto a pillow. Slowly sitting up, you quietly mumble his name. Your hooded eyes find the laptop screen still playing the movie. “I’m sorry love, didn’t wanna wake you” “It’s okay. When did I fall asleep?” Renjun smiles, “I’m not sure, some time ago.” “Oh”  “Yeah, oh” He laughs a little. “Do you wanna sleep over, love?” You nod, you can just leave in the morning since you don’t need to work until the afternoon shift begins. Renjun and you decide to just wash up and relax in his bed. He doesn’t need to finish the movie and you’re so tired, you probably would’ve fallen asleep again anyways. Closing his laptop, you make your way to the bathroom he shares with his roommate. Renjun always has a toothbrush prepared for you even if you didn’t sleep over most nights. It’s pretty cute and someway along you also started to pick up that habit of his for whenever he would sleep over at your dorm. That didn’t happen so often though since you share your dorm room with another girl. It’s definitely more comfortable to sleep at his place since he has a room to himself. 

While you’re in the bathroom, Renjun quickly makes his way to Jay’s room and knocks quietly. In hindsight, he could’ve also just sent him a text but whatever, Jay already opened the door. “Hey man, y/n’s gonna sleep over. Is it okay if the painting stays with you tonight?” Jay doesn’t have a problem with it. It’s just in a corner anyway, so the painting doesn’t really bother him. Having solved that problem, Renjun makes his way back into his room and starts to put the snacks away before getting you a shirt and sweatpants to wear for the night. Just in case she wants to get out of her pajama pants. Shortly after, you enter. “Here love, you can get changed if you want while I brush my teeth”, Renjun points to the clothes on the bed that he neatly laid out for you. You’ve always liked sleeping in his clothes, somehow it’s another kind of comfy. Maybe it’s because they always smell like him and how is a girl able to resist that? “Thank you Jun”, you quickly kiss his cheek before he leaves the room. Looking around you notice that Renjun already blew out the candles and sorted out his bed. After quickly changing your clothes, you grab a corner of his blanket and slip under it. 

Not even three minutes pass before he opens the door to his room. A soft smile makes its way onto Renjun’s lips as he sees you already comfy and ready in bed, waiting for him. Seems like the tiredness is slowly creeping up on you again. My poor baby. It's not even 9:30 and she’s ready to call it a day. Renjun quickly turns off his light and gets in bed next to you. You turn around to face him and his arm automatically wraps itself around your waist, pulling you a little closer. You place your hand on his chest while your head rests on his arm. Renjun slowly strokes your hair, soft eyes looking at you in the dark. After a few minutes, you snuggle a little closer to him. Cuddling him like this makes you even more sleepy. You nuzzle your face into his chest, giving him the perfect opportunity to lay a sweet kiss on top of your head. Renjun rests his cheek against the top of your head. Little words are exchanged as you welcome the comfortable and sleepy atmosphere. Except for your breathing, your heartbeats and the occasional sound of the blanket shuffling, the room is silent. You love moments like these. You love when Renjun cuddles with you, when you can feel his arms holding your body closely and his soft breath against your hair. You’ve always had a soft spot for his hugs anyway and being so close to him that you can listen to his heartbeat while feeling the warmth radiating from his body gives another level of bliss. You actually want to stay awake a little longer, want to consciously feel his body for some time more but it’s getting progressively harder for you to stay awake and Renjun sees how you struggle to. He murmurs against your hair, “Close your eyes, love. I know you had a long day” You feel another kiss on your hair and mumble an “I love you” to him before closing your eyes and letting sleep take over you. You barely manage to hear him say it back before you fully fall asleep.  

Opening your eyes the next morning, Renjun’s sleeping face greets you. His hair is kind of messy and his shirt got pulled down a bit, exposing part of his collarbones. Renjun’s arm rests on top of your hip and your feet are touching. Watching him for a few minutes, you get lost in your thoughts. There’s just something different about him in this relaxed state. It's like all the world’s stress and pressure can't get to him, like he can truly be undisturbed and there’s nothing in the world less than peace and happiness that you wish for Renjun. You know he has tendencies that make his life, especially his college life, a little more difficult than it needs to be. But honestly who knew an art major could be so demanding? You used to have this picture in your head of an art major being easy. After all, the students only need to paint stuff, right? Yeah, not exactly. Because of Renjun, you were able to glance beyond surface level and it turns out, studying art is harder than it seems. Renjun has written exams, almost weekly mini art projects for his classes, he needs to hold presentations and when exam season comes around his room is piled up with different art materials for his creative projects. It truly seems like you have to love art to study it or else you will drown. Renjun gives his all for college and you love that for him but him being a perfectionist adds another layer of difficulty to his degree. Sometimes he really needs to relax. That’s why you like seeing him resting so much. He can shut the world out and doesn’t fry his brain with details of his unfinished projects. You get to see him recovering from all the work he puts into his passion. 

You regard Renjun‘s sleeping state for a little while longer. The sun falls beautifully on him, partly on his face and hair. It highlights his slightly puffy face that he tends to get in the mornings. Your hand unconsciously reaches out and begins to stroke his hair slowly. Feeling your hand caressing his hair, Renjun stirs a little and sighs. It’s a very cute sight. Slowly opening his eyes after a few minutes, he smiles at you. Tightening his arm around your waist, you exchange a small kiss. Spending the morning with Renjun is usually a calm and loving experience. He likes to take his time in the mornings whenever he can, especially when he’s still a little sleepy. So you both spend a while wrapped in each other's arms with quiet murmurs to not disturb the morning quietness, taking in the warmth of one another before slowly getting out of bed to get ready. After eating breakfast together you need to leave to go home. Since you didn’t plan on spending the night, you plan on making a stop at your dorm, changing into a different outfit and maybe reading a little before going to work today.

As soon as you left, Renjun got his painting from Jay’s room. Today is the last day he can work on it since the painting needs to be dry for your birthday. After spending the last evening with you, Renjun feels quite good this morning. He feels like he can finish the painting in time and that he’ll like the outcome. The painting still needs details to the pond. It hopefully won’t take more than two hours. After that, Renjun still needs to add finishing touches to your gift. He starts with the pond by adding light blue highlights and a few branches that touch the water before letting the paint rest a little. In the meantime, he moves on to the finishing touches of other parts of the painting. Renjun had planned on spending the majority of today to finish your gift. Unfortunately, he can’t varnish it yet because it needs a few months to properly dry before he can put the varnish on top to fully seal it. However, for your birthday it will be enough for the painting to be dry to touch. After adding a little more detail to the trees in the background and defining a few of them a bit more, Renjun continues with the two main trees forming the heart. He decides to add some moss to the tree barks. 

However, after regarding the thin layer of moss he painted, he isn’t really satisfied. It seems a bit too flat for his liking, so he decides to try a different approach and goes to the kitchen to get some coffee. Maybe adding a few sprinkles of ground coffee into the paint will create a more natural finish. After trying it out on a paper and liking it, he uses his mixture of paint and coffee for the moss on the canvas. Looks pretty good. Being satisfied with the moss, Renjun takes a few steps away from his canvas to have a look at the pond. It doesn’t necessarily look bad but there’s still something he doesn’t like. He feels like it's kind of looking boring, which probably is because of a lack of details. That’s why for the next hour or so he spends his time perfecting the pond. In a spur of inspiration, Renjun also decides to add shadows of little fish inside the water.

Just in time for a small food break, Renjun finishes with the painting for now. He decides to come back to it after eating a bowl of ramen to regard it one last time before deciding if it’s really finished or not. Twenty minutes later, after he finished eating, Renjun stands in his room with crossed arms in front of the canvas. The window is open again, still his room very much smells like oil paints. His shirt and hands have paint on them, he truly looks like an artist in this moment. To him, there’s something strangely satisfying whenever he gets lost in painting so much that his hands and clothes show the proof. Renjun is satisfied with the outcome. It looks great. Exactly how I envisioned it. Finally. The forest looks enchanted, mysterious and doesn't have too much or too little detail. It looks like a forest one could stumble upon in a fantasy world and that’s what he was going for. She will surely like it. Smiling, Renjun starts to collect his art materials to clean them.

But suddenly, he gets a thought. I totally forgot to film! He quickly gets his camera and presses record. “Hi painters, it’s the last day of painting. Tomorrow is just for drying and then it’s y/n’s birthday. I actually already finished the painting but forgot to film it. Sorry about that. It's around 5 pm right now. Last night, y/n stayed over so I couldn’t wake up extra early to finish it. But it’s okay, I finished anyway. Have a look at the result.” Renjun turns his camera to show the canvas. “This is the finished product. I added details to the pond and some finishing touches today and I made some spontaneous decisions that turned out really well actually. ” He zooms in on the moss. “For the moss I added ground coffee into my paint. It gives it a more realistic finish, maybe give it a try some time.” Renjun laughs a little, “I think I might use this hack more often.” He turns the camera to show himself again, “I’m super satisfied with the result and actually very happy that I got finished in time. Although I wouldn’t recommend that you guys start a project this size in such a short time frame. Honestly, it was quite stressful. But I’m glad I was able to pull it off and I know for a fact that y/n’s gonna like it. Thank you guys so much for watching!” Turning his camera off, Renjun let out a happy sigh.

He didn’t immediately start editing the video though. It’s really time to take a break. Renjun just finished a big project and wants to celebrate. That’s why he quickly cleans up his room and video calls the dreamies’ group chat. Haechan is the first one to pick up “Look who came back from the dead.” Renjun laughs dryly and right after Mark joins the video chat, “Yo whats up?” Soon enough all the dreamies join and Renjun tells them about how he’s finally finished with the painting. Of course they want to see it, which is why Renjun switches to his phone’s back camera. “Dude, that looks so cool!” “I think she’s definitely gonna like it” “How come you never paint me a pic like that?” “Are you my girlfriend?”, Renjun deadpans. Haechan sulks a bit, “No.” “See. Now anyways, do you guys wanna hang out tonight?” It’s been a while since all of them hung out together anyway. “Yeah, we could try out that new Mexican restaurant near my place.” Renjun likes Jeno’s idea and everyone agrees, except for Jisung. “Guys, I have to finish an assignment by Wednesday. Can I join a bit later?” Mark reassures Jisung that his assignment was more important. “For sure dude, work on your assignment. We’ll save you a spot.” An hour later, the dreamies are sitting in the restaurant, going over the menu. Renjun thinks it’s nice to spend time together again, catching up and joking around. 

After Jisung joins, the whole group is complete and they spend the evening eating delicious food and talking. Renjun knows that he shouldn’t spend too much money there but stressful days of assignments and the painting is coming to an end and he wants to enjoy himself. That’s why he goes for dessert even when he was kinda full already. It’s okay, I deserve it. Soon, the relaxing evening comes to an end and the boys part ways. The day after tomorrow they’ll meet up at Jeno’s place to celebrate your birthday. You know it's a bit strange to celebrate your birthday at Jeno's place and you were a little hesitant at first. Of course you and Jeno are friends because of Junnie and your bestie, but not that close. Originally, you had planned to just hang out somewhere in the park but the weather has been kind of on the colder side lately. But, Jeno assured you that it’s fine. He's living alone, meaning he has enough space to host your small birthday get-together. Having some people over is nice anyway and he knows most of the people you invited. Besides the dreamies and your best friend, only two other friends of yours were expected to come. So it’s really fine for Jeno. Not to mention, his girlfriend, your bestie, would probably be somewhat upset if he said no to you. You were the person to introduce them after all. 

The next day Renjun slept in. His to do list doesn’t include much for today, mainly getting some nice wrapping for your gift. He also plans on visiting you at work again. It’s going to be a pretty simple day but he likes that his day doesn’t include any stress. Tomorrow, the day of your birthday, he’ll buy you some flowers and your favorite chocolate before meeting up with Mark. He was so nice to offer Renjun to put the painting in his car and drive to Jeno’s place together. This way he won’t need to take the painting on the subway. Renjun is pretty excited for you to see his gift. Of course he knows that you would like it but he still looks forward to your reaction. Since Jeno’s place allows for more room, Renjun plans to show up a bit earlier to decorate the place tomorrow. He excluded you from decorating on purpose and had said he was gonna handle it and so you let him. That boy can be stubborn. Renjun wants to keep his painting out of your sight for as long as he can. 

So when he and Mark arrive at Jeno’s place with your gift on the day of your birthday, Renjun puts it in Jeno’s bedroom. He knows you aren't gonna go in there, so it’s a safe spot to hide it. After making sure the painting isn’t gonna slip while he’s away, Renjun starts to prepare snack bowls and places your cake into the fridge, before helping Jeno and Mark with some balloons and a happy birthday sign. There wasn't much to prepare since you just want to spend your birthday relaxing with your friends. So soon enough, the three of them finish and around 6 pm everyone you invited is gathered on the floor around Jeno’s couch table, playing some board games and catching up. Throughout the day, Renjun films a few moments of your get-together. He wants to include your birthday party but especially your reaction to his present in his video. As the evening passes you turn to karaoke, singing songs from ABBA to Little Mix. At one point Renjun even starts to serenade you. He puts on quite a performance, singing Hot by Avril Lavigne and you totally enjoy it. It’s pretty funny actually, he’s pointing in your direction and dancing around. It’s nice seeing him so carefree. You’re kinda tempted to join and serenade him but he won't let you outperform him anyway. Besides, Renjun really has a lot of energy to spend. It’s already 8 pm, gifts still haven't been exchanged and he’s excited but also somewhat nervous for your reaction. He hopes you’ll love the painting as much as he does. However, there’s a part of him that fears he chose the wrong thing to paint but he tries to ignore that voice. You’re gonna love it, he just needs to keep on reminding himself of that.  

To say your reaction didn’t disappoint would’ve been an understatement. Renjun actually managed to hold himself in check till he was the last one left to give his gift. You really like the gifts you got this year. From a new book to new skin care you’ve been eyeing for a while, your friends put thought into them and that’s what counts and makes you happy. Two of your friends left half an hour ago, cause it’s kinda late already. The boys spontaneously had decided to sleep over at Jeno’s place, so it’s only you, your bestie and the dreamies left. “Okay, time for the finale”, for some reason, Haechan is very excited for your reaction to Renjun’s gift as well. He secretly plans to take pictures of you two. Earlier today, he also appointed Jisung to take a video. “Give me a minute, love. I’ll get your gift” Renjun squeezes your hand, giving you a smile. You look over at the boys and they just have smiles on their faces. It’s obvious that you’re gonna like the painting. Really, Renjun doesn’t have anything to worry about. A minute later, he comes back with the painting in wrapping paper. He chose one with a leaf print on it. It looks nice and maybe it could give you a bit of foreshadowing on what the gift entailed. “Happy birthday, love” Renjun sets the painting down, holding it in place and signals for you to open it. “I hope you like it” 

It’s clear that his gift was some kind of painting. Knowing Renjun, you guess that he actually painted it. “You painted for me?”, you place your hand on the gift. There was a certain smoothness to the wrapping paper. Renjun murmurs a small yes and the thought alone that he had painted you something this big was enough to make you tear up. He must’ve spent hours on this, hours just to make you happy. Sometimes you question how you were so blessed to have someone like him love you. Renjun really is giving his all to make you happy. Slowly, you unwrap the painting. Piece by piece different colors shine towards you, greens, some darker and some lighter, brown and little colorful spots. As soon as you unwrap the gift completely, you have a proper look at the painting and almost can’t believe your eyes. It’s so beautiful and perfect. You would’ve never expected such an amazing gift from him. You can’t believe Renjun would spend so much effort just for you. He put so much detail and love into the painting and it feels like you could see that from a mile away. This was the most thoughtful gift anyone ever gave you. You couldn’t possibly describe the meaning this holds for you. It’s so mesmerizing, the way the colors dance on the canvas, how he managed to portray feelings into his painting and really make it come alive. In a way it feels like the gift expresses how much Renjun loves you. 

You’re so overwhelmed and touched by the painting, the hard work and love he must’ve put into it that the only thing you can do is let out a sob. Renjun definitely didn't expect that reaction. His eyes widen and he starts to panic inside. No no no, she hates it? I should’ve chosen something else, damn it! Your hand naturally finds its way onto your mouth, more tears rolling down your cheeks while you admire the painting for a few moments more. You know Renjun has always put thought into the gifts he got you, but this really is on another level. The amount of devotion he put into making this is unbelievable. You've never seen more beautiful art than this painting and he did it with his own two hands.

Renjun’s wide-eyed gaze finds Mark’s but he also doesn’t know what to do. It’s like Renjun’s worst nightmare comes true right in front of his eyes. How could I be so stupid! Damn it! I was so sure she’s gonna like it. “Baby-”, Renjun’s ready to apologize and go buy you a better gift immediately but you don’t even give him time to finish his sentence. Throwing your arms around him, you hug him tight. “Thank you, thank you.” Four simple words and Renjun’s world stopped crumbling. He is beyond relieved. It’s like all his panicky thoughts leave his body instantly. He lets out a small laugh, hugging you back and smiling into your shoulder. You actually like it, like really like it. “It’s so beautiful. Thank you so much” Your heart almost can’t handle the thought of Renjun giving you something so precious, so beautiful. “Baby you almost gave me a heart attack.” You lean back a bit, mumbling a small sorry before placing your lips onto his. Renjun’s lips were soft and smooth like always. His kiss makes your stomach flip. He’s truly yours, not going anywhere and loving you like no other guy ever has. Renjun’s arms tighten around yours before you tilt your head a little, deepening the kiss and soon enough you hear a mixture of complaints from the boys. “Okay, what the heck” “Ew, leave that for later guys” Renjun blushes a bit, pulling away slowly. He really isn’t used to doing that in front of the boys. Pecking his lips one last time, you loosen your grip and just smile at him. “Dang,” Haechan looks at the pictures he took of you two kissing, “I really need to learn how to paint”.

a/n: excuse any painting process parts or art major parts that might be inaccurate haha, oh and if you wanna request something, I'm open to hear your idea :)

[spockandawe]

You know what I can't get enough of? Speculation about what the fictional novel Proud Immortal Demon Way says about its fictional author. Because it would be completely possible to make a story like this without that connection. I'm not sure I've read any other transmigration story where the author was a character, so just that addition adds a lot of interesting texture to the situation even without getting deep in the author's head, but it's so interesting how deep I can speculate in so many directions if I think about getting in his head.

And oh man, I could talk for AGES about how Shang Qinghua and his iconic protagonist reflect each other, but a lot of people have written about that already! Including in the medium of fic, which is my favorite way to consume that kind of crunch. So let's talk about familial neglect and mistreatment and the author's favorite character.

Honestly, when I look at how iconic this ship is, I'm astonished there aren't more hit novels where the author gets yeeted into their own book and has to navigate platonic or romantic relationships with their own characters. A lot of the parallels between Shang Qinghua and Luo Binghe are about them being alike in ugly and vulnerable ways, ways I don't think either of them likes about themselves, and regarding aspects of their personalities that I don't think they'd be happy discussing period. Like, Binghe very much hates himself, that's right there on the page. And Shang Qinghua is a ridiculous character, he's very funny, but he's also not stupid. He's very aware of who he is and what he is, and makes a decision to behave the ways he does. I'm typing this up because I was scrolling through an old chat looking for something and tripped across a conversation about shang qinghua and fawn trauma response.

He knows he does this thing! He has an easy opening to turbokill Mobei-jun while he's unconscious and decides to go the route of begging for his life and trying to ingratiate himself after Mobei-jun wakes up instead, which is a much trickier process. He says it himself, that Mobei-jun is his ideal, that he embodies everything Shang Qinghua wants to be, that etc. And that's hilarious and all, especially in light of the eventual romance and the clownery it takes to get there, but in classic svsss fashion, it also becomes a lot sadder when you add up all the pieces and see everything Shang Qinghua hates about himself.

In some ways he's an even more avoidant narrator than Shen Qingqiu, he deflects and jokes like a motherfucker, so it really is a matter of assembling all the pieces and seeing where there are gaps. But what really underscored the connection for me was Mobei-jun's reaction to parental neglect. Because that's what pushed Shang Qinghua into being an author in the first place, his parents divorced and remarried and kinda just.... forgot about him.

Mobei-jun's dad doesn't exactly do that, but he is operating without a mom in the picture, and rather than remarrying, he just chooses to ignore the thing where his shitty brother is persistently trying to kill his son. That really sucks! But Mobei-jun never shows the smallest hint of weakness or vulnerability over this, even when it would have really helped to use his words, like 'hi my uncle is coming to kill me and i trust you to protect me.' He's everything cool, aloof, arrogant, proud, all a bunch of adjectives that really do not apply to Shang Qinghua. Mobei-jun honestly looks like a boring character if you just stick to the main story, because he's so self-contained and controlled. Compare and contrast to Shang Qinghua, who accidentally outs himself as a transmigrator like two minutes after showing up and proceeds to be hilarious for the rest of the book.

(Brief aside to say that I don't think Mobei-jun is necessarily a happier or healthier person for all of this, lmao. The conversation that fawn reaction thing came from was talking about freeze (tee hee) versus fawn in response to threats or stressful situations. But that goes along with the svsss theme of people used to engaging with this universe as a fictional property coming to terms with the depth and complexity of other people's emotions and not just seeing them as simplistic not-real characters in a book)

(Additionally, this makes the ship hilarious as a take on 'opposites attract,' but also it gives me actual Emotions that Shang Qinghua's ideal who he wishes he could be, purely incidentally, he is able to value and love Shang Qinghua in a way that Shang Qinghua can't and doesn't seem to totally understand)

And what's very interesting here. Is that Shang Qinghua made these two characters, Luo Binghe and Mobei-jun. His protagonist ultimately reflects a lot of his own vulnerabilities and insecurities (secretly and quietly in pidw, much more.... overtly in svsss), and Mobei-jun corrects for his vulnerabilities and insecurities. He's the person Shang Qinghua wishes he could be, which is basically... the opposite of Shang Qinghua, to an almost comical degree. And he then gives Mobei-jun the VERY BEST plot armor he can devise. It's hard for a male character to exist near a stallion protagonist without getting swept up in rivalries/suspicions/etc and getting killed by the protagonist, but he makes sure that his favorite character is safe from these things. He's protecting the character he wishes he could be from the character whose faults most reflect his own. That is very sweet and weird and sad, and that's very reflective of the svsss experience, I think.

[noraantilles]

Imperial Love

Pairing: Thrawn x gn!reader

Summary: Y/N and Thrawn are having an eye-opening discussion, getting to know their suppressed feelings for each other.

Warnings: tension, fluff, enemies to lovers

Word count: 2195 word

POV: You and Thrawn are in his luxurious quarters on the Chimera where you are held as a prisoner. You hated the empire but had an odd esteem for Thrawn. He was always respectful and never underestimated your abilities. You have been on the Chimera for a longer amount of time now. Thrawn invited you into his quarters for conversation and dinner. Well, as far as you can call this an invitation. You could either spend your time in a prison cell or take the variety.

You are watching the stars through the window while Thrawn sits down on his sofa. A bottle of wine and two glasses sit on a small table next to him. His quarters were decorated with different pictures and art from throughout the galaxy. You knew that he adored art. But not because he found it so aesthetically pleasing, no. He reads it like normal people would read books. One of his special abilities you had never gotten a hang of.

After a long stare in the void of nothing you finally decided to break the silence. „Why am I here?”, you mumbled. Thrawn's observing gaze could not seem to get rid of you. Even though you did not bother, you could just not quite grasp why he was so interested in you. Unlike the rest of the empire, Thrawn seemed to be the only one that somehow respected you. It wasn’t the first time you got an invitation to join him, but most of the time you never really spoke. This time though, you could already feel that it was different.

„You are here because you took my invitation.”, he answered as he calmly took the bottle off the table and poured the red wine into the two glasses. „That is not what I meant.” You took a deep breath before you continued to speak. “Why am I on this star destroyer? What exactly does the empire want from me?“

Thrawn’s mimic stayed neutral as he leaned back. „You are here so that we can convince you to join the empire. We want you to fight for us. End the rebellion and therefore the war.“

You started to look at him, while he was sitting there, leaning back, his glass of wine in one hand, his other arm resting on the back of the sofa, while he decided to watch you eagerly. You laughed in disbelief while you shook your head. „Why do you think I would ever decide to work for the one thing I fought to destroy? I have lost so many important people, to this war. If I would switch sides now, everything that I did would have been for nothing. Their deaths would be completely meaningless. Do you really think I would betray them, betray myself like that?“

„So that‘s the most important thing to you. Your friends. The people that you love.“ he paused for a second. „I learn a new thing about you every day. Surprisingly, none of this applies to what they say about you.“ he took a sip of his wine.

You frowned slightly laughing. „Oh really? So what do they say about me?“ With a piercing look at him, you crossed your arms.

„It is said that ‘Nova Phantom’ destroyed a Venator-class star destroyer all by themself.“ His gaze wandered from your feet up to your eyes. It felt like he tried to read you. You smirked. „The way you said it, it doesn’t seem that you believe in it.“

„I don‘t know what to believe honestly.“ You laughed, as you interrupted him. „Wow, so the all-knowing famous notorious grand admiral Thrawn is clueless. That is also not quite what your reputation says.“

„So you know my reputation?“ You smirked. „Did you really doubt that? Know your enemies. Isn‘t that what you’re used to say?“ Thrawn nodded in agreement so you continued. „I know that you are the smartest man to have ever gotten a post in the empire. You are a tactical master when it comes to war maneuvers and a genius in constructing your enemies' next steps. I assume you are also a master manipulator and can read every person you have ever met like an open book. Never in my life, have I met someone so precise and right with his assumptions than you. You have a wide knowledge in a lot of different areas. Cultures, languages, art. Everything you need to know to reconstruct someone’s life and decisions. I am pretty sure you started analyzing everything when you were able to think. And that‘s probably why you became so good.“

He smiled lightly when you finished, which is a thing you rarely get to witness. But he stayed calm. Neither agreement nor disapproval. You smirked again. „Seems like I was right. Your reputation is pretty accurate then, don’t you think? So why don‘t you think mine’s also?“

You stepped slowly across the room to take your glass of wine before you stepped back to the window. With every step you took you started to realize that Thrawn’s eyes were literally glued to you by now. You took a sip of the wine the grand admiral had picked for you. An oddly familiar smell and scent floated through your senses. How in the stars was he able to guess your favorite wine? A slight surge of uncertainty started to build up as you stared into your glass for a short moment before you started to realize that he wasn’t allowed to know that he had hit the bull's eye. You took a glimpse through the side of your eye before you headed back to your spot at the window. You were sure that he had noticed your little break out of your coolness, but he kept it to himself.

„I never said that I didn’t think it could be true. I‘m just not quite sure yet, which option makes the most sense.“

Your gaze wandered back to him, interested in what he meant by that. He understood the curious look on your face and kept going. „There is option one. Your reputation is not true, you‘d be a normal prisoner here and the empire would not have the use for you as they do now. Or your reputation is true, you are the most powerful being I have ever met and did all they say about you, then I don‘t quite understand why you didn‘t just, … leave. Clearly, you would have all the abilities to walk out of here without a scratch. So, the question is, why are you still here? Either you don‘t have these abilities they say or there is something else that is keeping you here.“

„Really, and what would that be?”, you asked as calmly as you were able to. „Maybe a tactical advantage. Learning from your enemy firsthand so that he shows you how to destroy them. Or something completely different. Maybe you have a special interest in something specific. Something or someone.“ He took another sip from his wine and gazed at you with a deep stare directly into your eyes.

You try not to let on anything, although you exactly knew that he had hit the bull’s eye with his analysis. Again. You took a sip of your wine. „That is a very interesting theory. So what do you think is true then?“

„I had hoped you would tell me.“ He looked at you expectantly, his head slightly tilted to the side.

„And why would you think I would tell you that?“ Your heartbeat started to increase as Thrawn took another sip, looking at you without saying anything. You knew exactly what he was doing. Playing this little game of answering your own questions. It was your turn now.

„I see.”, you began. “And luckily, I already know the answer to this question. You like my companionship. I am the only one who can slightly compare to you on an intellectual basis and that is a welcome variety to you. Being surrounded by the same boring crew and an enemy that hides most of the time, because they know they don’t stand a chance to beat you. I am none of that to you. I am a mystery, a riddle that you are burning to solve.“ You took a pause to see his reaction, but he stayed cool so you continued. „The empire probably thinks that all of this is for tactical reasons. They think that what you are doing here might give them information about the enemy, about me, but that is not entirely true, isn‘t it? There is more to it. You don‘t just like the idea of solving a complex puzzle. You like the idea of how I make you feel. And you want to explore that in every possible way. How far you can go. It thrills you because you have never had the opportunity to experience anything like that.“

You slowly stepped in his direction, while you observed his reaction. „Does it scare you? Seeing someone using your own weapons against you?” You placed your still-filled glass back on the table. The power you felt at that moment was incredible. Being able to keep the upper hand with someone like him was the reason why you stayed on this ship. To be honest, under great effort, you‘d probably be able to leave the Chimera but your state of health wasn‘t the best at that time. So, waiting a little bit longer till you’d be able to leave a more comfortable way seemed to be the best option. You sat your knee between his thighs and placed you close in front of him. The slight nervousness that made his body tense has not escaped you. You rest your hand on the backrest of the couch while your fingers slowly traced a line over his chest. He clearly did not expect you to come that close that fast. But that didn’t last long. A smile formed on his lips. „Thank you.“ he stated as he glared deep into your eyes. „For what?“, you laughed lightly at his sudden mood change. „Now I know the answer.“

„Oh really? What is it then? Is my reputation true or false?”, you tilted your head slightly to the side. „That I cannot say yet. But what I know is that my previously made assumption is indeed correct. You do want me. Maybe even the way I want you. And the best thing is, I can prove it to you.“ But before you could even process what he meant by that. He grabbed you by the hip and pushed you into himself so that his mouth almost touched your ear. A light gasp left your body at that sudden movement. His hot breath tickled the skin on your neck and a shiver waved all over your body. You could literally feel that wide grin of his on your skin. Only now, you really understood how he proved it to you. At that sudden movement of dragging you into him, your hands found hold on his chest. Your fingers were buried in the fabric of his white uniform, that’s how much you really tensed.

But even now that you‘ve noticed you couldn’t let go of him. His scent, his hot breath on your skin, and his hands on your lower back had taken you completely. He had you under his spell and he was well aware of that. Your breathing accelerated as he moved his mouth along your jawline till he stopped right in front of your lips. You didn’t know where to focus anymore as your eyes wandered between his lips and his eyes.

You wanted this, even though you knew that this was absolutely wrong. Betraying your friends and everything you have fought for just in a glimpse of a moment, was the last thing you wanted. But the way you‘ve simply lost all control over your body made it hard to resist. You knew that he thought the same. He struggled so hard to catch a clear thought but the longer he waited the more desperate he got. Desperate for your touch. In a glimpse of a moment, he closed the gap between the two of you pulling you in for a hot breathy kiss. First, you tried to resist the urge, but as soon as his lips met yours all you could think of was how you wanted more. Your hands wandered up to his neck as you deepened the kiss. Thrawn kept you close to him as his hands slid under your shirt to feel your skin. He had thought about this moment way more often than he’d like. A shiver went through your body as a burning desire started to build up in you as he traced a line along your lower back. In the end, Thrawn was right about you, the same way you were right about him. You two were made for each other. Sooner or later the realization that it would never work had to hit. An imperial grand admiral and a rebel assassin. This had to be destined to fail.

Authors note: May the Fourth be with you guys!

[razzellyn]

So affectionate!

Reader who gave them a daily hug! (You're going to be oofed)

Fluff and ! Angst !

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Blue Cop:

• Flustered for the first few times. It's not that he didn't like it, it just barely happens to him. Jun made fun of him about it and he got even more flustered each hug.

• Eventually warms up to it and hugs you back! Only when the "immature" one isn't around though. Immature being Shadow X.

• Actually looks forward to it everyday now. It's a daily thing when it comes to you.

• Now that you are gone, now that you have just lost the privilege of living, he finds it hard to even go after the day like he usually would.

• He doesn't realize how lonely he felt until after you were gone. It makes him feel as if he was just taking your kindness, your presence for granted.

• The last time he hugged you was the last time he hugged anyone else. Any other hugs that has been given to him feels different than the ones you used to give. So, Instead of being hugged by someone else, he just hugs himself.

• Oh how he wished he could tell you how much those hugs meant for him.

Mega Trucker:

• Actually really likes them. But, obviously, he'd never admit that. He'd just play it off with a wave of his hand and walking away.

• He's totally not jealous when you give the others a hug too. He knows it's just what you do, but you don't choose how you feel, so..

• He'd much prefer if you hug him in private. That, or when you just gave everyone a hug.

• Sometimes you give them a hug after any kind of battles they go through, and he used that as an excuse to ask you for a hug sometimes.

• He didn't expect that today would be his last hug from you. His shield was already applied and yet... he couldn't protect you.

• He's the one with the shield, he was supposed to defend you. He feels pathetic now, knowing that he wasn't quick or fast enough to protect you.

• Sometimes, whenever he's alone, he's reminded that you were gone and he blames himself for it.

• He doesn't want to be hugged by someone else. Can't you just.. hug him one last time?

Mega Ambuler:

• He may be... stoic, and a bit cold at times. But your hugs are usually the reason that he melts. (Not literally)

• Honestly, didn't expect anyone to hug him at all! It was a nice change for him.

• Believe it or not, sometimes he initiated the hug. In private, of course. It's a bit awkward for him whenever he does, but for you it was like being blessed for a lifetime.

• Usually he refuses your hugs, but he often regrets it afterwards. Atleast you were kind enough to give him one after that.

• Somehow you still had the nerve to hold him close even as he was patching up your wounds.

• He wanted you to live, everyone wanted you to live. Everyone depended on him for you to live, and he failed.

• He blames himself. He apologized to you, even if you can't hear him he still does. It gives him some type of false hope that he clings to, that maybe somehow you still lived.

• He has never felt so dissapointed in his entire life. To himself. Silently begging for you to just... come back.

• It felt as if he had failed the purpose of a doctor.

Phoenix Fire:

• He's embarrassed from time to time, but he mostly welcomes the hugs with open arms.

• One of the bots who actually showed how much they appreciated your hugs. Your hugs also often calms him down from a panic attack. He's thankful for that.

• He also looks forward to being hugged, it always brightens his day by 100%.

• He was the one screaming at you, begging you to stay awake as he fought the fires and enemies from expanding further.

• He was being brave for you, extinguishing the fires like how a firefighter should! Why weren't you responding...?

• He hugged you as tightly as he could, running towards safety, murmuring promises of a safe place, a safe haven even just for the two of you. Only to look down at an empty husk that you left.

• He wondered what he could've done. He wondered what could've been avoided. He wondered if you wanted a hug.

Shadow X:

• It's hard to tell whether he likes them or not. Sometimes he hugs you back with a wide nonexistent grin, sometimes he just pushes you away. Not in an aggressive manner, of course

• One time he initiated a hug, without realizing that everyone was watching. Yeah you weren't gonna receive hugs from him anymore.

• Secretly the #1 enjoyer of your hugs. Cannot mentally function without one. You found out because he was being an annoyance before you gave him one, after you did he was much more calmer.

• Was the one who immediately stood by your side, picking you up to the best of his abilities, not wanting to hurt you further.

• It was the first time you'd seen him so serious. It was the last time he had seen you so amused.

• He didn't want to let go of you he just wanted to hug you. He didn't care if everyone else was watching, he didn't want you to leave.

• Stay for him, please. He begs of you. Let him be the one to hug you this time.

Fleta Z:

• Also #1 hug enjoyer. He actually shows that he does, not in an exaggerating way of course.

• He's not one to initiate hugs, but he's not one to decline them either. In fact he relishes in the hugs you gave him.

• Sometimes he wishes he could just hug you and never letting you go. Don't worry, he won't actually do that.

• He's really gentle with the hug. Sometimes even hugging you tightly on occasion. It's usually whenever he feels pissed off when that happens. It calms him down greatly.

• Oh was he furious when he saw you laying there motionless. Immediately running over to cover you with his frame as he shoots at the enemies.

• He doesn't want to believe it. But he knows it's true. He just wished it was him and not you.

• He doesn't feel like using his flute at times. For some reason he just didn't feel like it. When he does, he wonders, can you hear his tune that was made just for you?

• Whenever that happens he thought about going over to you, maybe you'd give him a hug. Until he remembered.

• He sighed to himself as he stared at the moon. Wishing that the moon was you.

Dexter:

• Though flustered and embarrassed, he still hugs you back.

• He's also one of the bots to appreciate your hugs, sometimes even asking you a second one.

• In return, he often takes you to explore the forest! Totally not a date, while also talking about the plants and wildlife of the forest.

• You somehow managed to hug him in his vehicle form, and even though it was an odd position, he still appreciated it.

• He immediately abandoned the battlefield, carrying you gently, hoping that he was fast enough to bring you to safety.

• Well, atleast he could hug you one last time before you go. Surely that could calm him down...?

• He only seeks your hugs much more than before now, only to hug himself once he remembers that won't happen anytime soon.

• The forest feels lonelier than ever. It's not as beautiful as he remembered.

Wild Guardy:

• He doesn't mind it at all. He just lets you do whatever you see fit.

• Overtime though, he gradually leans onto your hugs. It went from patting your back, to side hugging you, and all of a sudden he engulfed you in a hug.

• He doesn't care if the others see you two. Sometimes he even showed off that you hugged him rather than them.

• Safe to say he even hugged you as he ran with you to safety. You were bleeding in his car seat. Does he care? No. Cleaning might be a hassle though.

• He handed you over to Mega Ambuler, telling him to to bring you somewhere so you could be treated, and went back to the battlefield.

• His frame physically sagged down when he heard you couldn't make it. Demanding that he sees you for the very last time.

• Never had he felt so disappointed in himself before. He gently held onto your fragile little hand, sighing to himself as he brought your body close.

• Seems like he lost the privilege to your hugs.

Buffalo Crush:

• He looks like the type to not like hugs. Well you're WRONG. He THOROUGHLY enjoys them. Daily hugs? Even BETTER.

• At some point he just full on cuddled you instead of hugging, forgetting to let go until you started squirming. He apologized immediately after.

• He's learned to hug you gently now. Still snuggling up to you when he could, which then turned into a cuddle and he forgot you needed to breathe. Again.

• It takes... too long for him to properly hug you, but he did it! His learning of "how to gently hug others" had significantly improved thanks to you.

• He just didn't expect that you would go once learned. He hugged your form gently, not wanting your pain to increase.

• Of course he went to Mega Ambuler. He's a doctor isn't he? He should know what to do. He could bring you back! But Mega Ambuler's lack of response tells him otherwise.

• He was begging for someone, for anyone to help you! But even Buster Gallon didn't know what to do.

• He learned how to properly hug you now, won't you hug him back?

Buster Gallon:

• Oh he hates it. He's totally not embarrassed each time you try to hug him.

• One time he decided to let you hug him, guess what? He's not letting go. Then it just goes on after that.

• Whenever he's done something, or achieved some sort of breakthrough, he comes to you for a reward hug. Which is a normal hug, but he can only achieve it by succeeding in... something.

• Somehow you always came up with excuses to hug him, telling him that he'd done something great knowing that he didn't even do a thing yet.

• Oh how he wished he let you hug him more. He carried you away from the battle, ignoring Black Hook's orders.

• Only to find that his efforts were futile, as you lay motionless in his arms. He feels conflicted. He wants to hug you, he wants to keep you close. But he just couldn't bring it in himself to do so.

• Would you still hug him, even though he failed?

Black Hook:

• His immediate answer was a no. He didn't want to be seen as someone that could easily be 'hugged' by others. Only for him to lean into your embrace once you two were alone.

• He'd huff and grumble, saying that he doesn't want to be hugged, but you knew that he lied.

• Putting on a brave face and a strong figure, it deeply surprised you how easily he becomes a tiny spoon. Even a captain would like some time off, thank you.

• He melts every time you hug him, wishing that he could've hugged you when everyone was around but not wanting his dignity gone.

• Now he doesn't even care about dignity. He's focused on keeping you safe, only to realize that he was a tad bit too late. He's practically screaming out your name, ordering you to stay awake.

• In the end it was all pointless, staring down at your lifeless body, bending down to give you a hug. If this was going to be the last hug, at least give him the honor to initiate the hug.

• He stayed holding you, as gently as a captain could.

Heavy Iron:

• It's no surprise that Heavy Iron doesn't think much of it. Actually it technically is a surprise, considering that he's a huge bot who looks like he would stomp on you if he wanted to.

• It makes him wonder however, why you were hugging him in the first place. But he must admit, it's nice to be shown kindness even after your worse. He's never saying that though.

• Usually he just pats your back in return and lets go immediately after. Other times he just doesn't do anything, letting you hug him as he just stood there. (like an idiot!🏴‍☠️)

• It almost never happens, but whenever he's feeling particularly good he would actually, properly, hug you back. Even he got himself surprised.

• He wasn't sure what he expected after that. He lost his world, and then he lost you. It doesn't surprise him, but it still hurts.

• He mourns you silently, grieving in the fact that he's only ever hugged you a few times before, yet you've hugged him countless of times.

• Never in his lifetime have he ever felt so saddened by the loss of someone. Though, he supposed you were a different case. You treated him as equals even after he did the opposite, yet somehow that encouraged you to hug him?

• Does he even deserve a hug from you? From anyone?

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Pls send req of character and scenario

Pls

Idk what else to write i BEG