#i spent a lot of time on it back then (mainly the hair) but i coulda done better with other aspects

[judgment-of-sin]

The Judge and the Sleep Princess (?)

Some old art (April 2024)

[drmaddict]

It would be a little unconventional

Summary: Aegon and (Y/n) just married. No one has seen them in the last four days. But that doesn't change the fact that half the castle can hear what they're doing.

Word count: 1.309

Autors note: a bit subby Aegon, anal fingering, well... smut as you may have guessed

"How long has it been since anyone's seen them?", Daemon asked the group, bored.

Rhaenyra smirked. Alicent killed her wine goblet with a look. Jaecerys surprisingly joined Alicent and cut his flesh with more force than necessary.

"Daemon." Rhaenyra rebuked him, still smirking.

He was not impressed. "When was the last time you saw them?", he asked her directly.

She rolled her eyes. "At the wedding.", she replied curtly.

"Which was four days ago.", he added just as curtly.

"Princess, perhaps you should-"

The door to the dining room opened. All eyes shot to (y/n) like moths to a flame.

"Is that your night gown?" Jaecerys asked his sister in shock.

"Yes.", (Y/n) said curtly and immediately grabbed various dishes from the table. She threw a handful of bread rolls onto the plate of fruit, which she simply took and immediately reached for a carafe of wine.

"You can't walk around-"

(Y/n) immediately interrupted her brother. "I'm already off again. Just relax. By the gods."

"Where's Aegon?", asked Alicent.

(Y/n) smiled. "He's asleep."

"At such an early hour?"

"He was tired." (Y/n) shrugged and pressed the carafe of wine into the hand of the member of the Kingsguard who had been following her until just now.

"Long night?", Daemon grinned.

(Y/n) grinned. "It seemed rather short lived to me."

Jaecery's glass shattered in his hand, his grip was so firm.

With that, (Y/n) simply turned round again and motioned to the man from the Kingsguard to follow her. He complied, overwhelmed.

Aemond watched with satisfaction as Jaecerys and Lucerys shoved their food back into themselves with an angry look. "Be glad you can't hear them.", he said to his nephews, sounding bored. "Whorehouses sound more chaste than those two."

Jaecerys leapt across the table towards him.

"Aegon?" she whispered, jerking his shoulder slightly.

"Ngh.", he sighed and curled up, pulling the blanket tighter around him.

"I got something to eat."

A snore was her reply.

She sighed. Had she overdone it? Was it too much for him? He liked sex. She knew that. She liked sex. They had sex. A lot of sex... Mainly because of her. And she wanted to do it again. Was she overwhelming him? Him? Aegon II Targaryen, who had spent his entire adolescence shagging his way through every brothel he could find?

She looked at his sleeping face. How could he look so innocent after what they'd both been doing for the last four days?

She poured herself a cup of wine and sat down in the armchair in the room.

The last few days had been wonderful and exciting. They had tried each other out before the wedding, but had always been careful not to risk pregnancy. They hadn't gone all the way. They also had to meet in secret. They had to be quiet. But now. Now they weren't holding back. And by the gods she would do anything to hear the sounds he was making. Those little sighs. The whimpers. The high clear moans when he was about to come. His eyes. Watery and so big as they looked up at her. He didn't want to believe that she had already read a thing or two.

That she wasn't completely ignorant. She was sure he wouldn't question her creativity again.

She sipped her wine and gazed into the fire of the flickering fireplace.

But perhaps she was really overdoing it. Everyone always made fun of how much lust Aegon had indulged in over the years. But she understood. Would people make fun of her too?

She heard the blanket rustle. She turned her face towards the bed. Aegon sat up, his face scrunched up. He rubbed his eyes. His hair was sticking up wildly from his head. Irritated, he looked around, then his gaze landed on her. "What are you doing?", he asked, pouting slightly and still sounding sleepy.

She looked at her glass. "I'm drinking wine." ,she explained simply.

Aegon pouted more. "What are you doing in that armchair? Come here!", he whined.

She grinned awkwardly. "I just thought you might want a break.", she mumbled.

Aegon furrowed his eyebrows in irritation. "From what?"

"Well..." she pointed vaguely at the bed. "From me-"

"If I want a break from fucking my wife, or letting her fuck me,", he winked at her, "I'll let you know."

She smiled awkwardly. "It's not too much?"

He shook his head with a smile. "If anything, I've got a few books and we'll try everything I found in there."

She grinned. Playfully, she stood up. "Anything you want to start with?"

Aegon smiled. "It would be a little unconventional.", he purred.

He gripped her hips as she settled on his lap.

"Tell me about it.", she whispered and kissed his neck softly.

His breath trembled. "There's a contraption. A harness and... hmmm... and a fake phallus. You could take me with that. Fuck me."

"And that's good for you?"

"I never come harder."

"Explain it to me.", she sighed against his neck.

Aegon reached out to take her hand. Without hesitation, he took two of her fingers in his mouth. One would almost think, he wanted to blow her fingers, licking over her tender skin with such fervour.

"Fuck.", she sighed. His eyes were glassy and so wonderfully veiled.

Aegon released her fingers and lay on his back. She moved beneath him. He quickly shoved one of the pillows under his bum and spread his legs. "And now-", he placed her fingers at his opening. His breathing was shaky. "Start with one finger. Push upwards. There... fuck... there's a point... Ha."

He dropped his head powerlessly into the pillows as she slowly slid her finger inside him. "Like this?"

"Yes! Fuck yes!"

She pressed in further. Watched his face. The crease between his eyebrows. The closed eyes. The slightly open mouth.

"Add the second one. But slowly."

She complied with his request. "Does it hurt?"

He shook his head. "It only stings at first. It's better with oil."

She grinned. "Do you do that to yourself?", she whispered against his ear.

He grinned. "As often as I can."

She grinned. "You like it?"

He nodded quickly. "Move your fingers. Like you're fucking me."

She withdrew her fingers and pushed them back in. Aegon sighed happily.

"You were talking about a point."

He nodded. "Further in. That's right. Press your fingertips upwards. A little to the right. Ah, right there! Oh fuck. Fuck!"

She drew little circles over the spongy spot. "Like this?"

Aegon groaned, whimpering. "Yes.", he whimpered. "Faster. Please. AH!"

She complied with his request. She started kissing his neck again. Caressed his skin. "Can you come just like that?"

Aegon simply nodded. Unable to speak. The sight made her feel the heat between her legs. She felt the wetness. He lay decadently in front of her and she savoured the sight of him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Aegon's semen shot all over his chest and down to his chin. Even (Y/n's) cheek was not spared.

His body tensed. It felt like his insides wanted to break her fingers.

He drove his ass towards her fingers like a madman. Much longer than usual, he floated in ecstasy before his body collapsed.

He lay there, beaten and unable to move.

"Holy mother.", he sighed.

(Y/n) giggled. She kissed his cheeks. She playfully rubbed her nose against the shell of his ear. "I don't think I've ever been so wet.", she whispered.

Aegon's body trembled. He smiled slightly.

"I can't move a muscle, but... If you want a repeat of last night...", he grinned mischievously at her.

She bit her lip. She positioned her thighs next to his head.

"But tell me if I get too heavy.", she smirked.

"I'd die a happy man," he grinned.

[afterglowsainz]

hey lovely, just wanted to send something in for your spotify wrapped blurbs that your doing so i'll say my current driver obsession mr oscar piastri and number 21 since that's how old i just turned <3 please and thank you of course, love your work always <3

too soon to tell you “i love you” | oscar piastri

song; risk - gracie abrams

a/n: happy birthday love!! and thank you so much! i hope you like this (finally some fluff)🤍

part of the spotify wrapped special

It had been a long time since you'd gone out with a guy you genuinely liked and thought was worth it. Lately, all the men you met were either a bit idiotic and obsessed with talking about paddle (since when did the male species decide that paddle was cool?) or mansplaining how crypto worked and why they were convinced they'd be millionaires by 25 (okay? I guess).

Oscar was the exception.

You met him when you started working at McLaren as part of the photography team. Your job mainly involved taking pictures of him and Lando, though your camera held far more photos of the Australian driver than the Brit. You knew he’d had a girlfriend with whom things hadn’t worked out, and you were aware it was a bit risky to pursue something with him since you both worked at McLaren. But you couldn’t ignore the smile on his face when he realized it was you behind the camera or how he spent more time talking to you than anyone else in the paddock.

Though Oscar also talked a bit about paddle (you still didn’t understand why they didn’t just play tennis), you didn’t mind listening when it was him. You could listen to him talk for hours and never get tired of it. Not that this would ever happen—Oscar wasn’t the type to talk excessively. Still, sometimes you just liked watching him. He was that handsome, at least in your eyes.

You didn’t know exactly what it was about Oscar that others didn’t have—or maybe it was just the fact that you hadn’t liked anyone in so long—but your attraction to him evolved into something similar to a teenage crush. When he texted you, you’d get excited, and you blushed every time he told you you looked pretty. Your best friend wouldn’t stop teasing you about it.

Sometimes, you wondered if this was a mistake, if it was a red flag to feel so much for Oscar so quickly. But then his fingers would brush against yours when you talked, or he’d tuck a strand of hair behind your ear to see your face better, and the butterflies in your stomach would go wild.

"I like you a lot," Oscar said out of nowhere one day as you watched the sunset from a lookout point. "I don’t know if this is a risk, but I’d take it for you." He hadn’t looked into your eyes when he said it, but his hand had moved closer to yours, and you could feel the warmth of his fingertips on your knuckles.

“I don’t care if it’s a risk or not,” you replied.

That was your first night together. The next morning, you woke up to a bouquet of fresh flowers next to your bed and Oscar without a t-shirt, making breakfast.

Was it too soon to tell him you loved him? Probably. Even though you felt it in every vein of your body, you held back the words and simply gave him a slow, lazy morning kiss.

God, you were truly invested in this. If it ended up being a mistake, it would definitely be your favorite mistake. There was no turning back now.

[superpowereddonut]

Favour for a Friend (Sirius Black x Reader) - Part 1

This came to me in a dream and I had to write it down! I've never posted any of my own works anywhere, but figured it's a short little one-shot that I may as well put out there even if no one ever reads it! If I feel inspired I might turn this into a proper fic, but idk yet.

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader (No use of Y/N)

A/N: set at Hogwarts, fake dating trope

Warnings: Swearing, Sirius isn't gay (even though Wolfstar is obviously canon lol)

Word count: 1401

*****

Barely catching her breath enough to mutter the password, the Gryffindor girl rushed into the common room, all windswept hair, flushed cheeks and wide eyes. She spotted the Marauders all lounging by the fire (except Peter - he was always off snogging Dorcus in a closet these days) and made a beeline straight for them. Remus was squashed awkwardly in an armchair, a book open against his long legs where they were draped over one arm and his back resting against the other. James was sitting up on one end of the adjacent couch, his transfiguration homework in his lap, with Sirius sprawled at the other end, legs stretched out in front of him, head tipped back and eyes closed, listening to the music emanating from the record player nearby.

She felt a twinge of regret when the cosy atmosphere broke as she stormed over, her gaze flicking over each of them before settling on Sirius, who had cracked an eye open to look at her, now standing on the carpet in front of the fire.

“Black, I need you to be my boyfriend.”

James and Remus both snapped their heads up at that, and Sirius’ eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”

“Lucas Davis just asked me out again!” The three boys in front of her seemed to let out a simultaneous groan. They were almost as sick as she was of Davis, the irritating Gryffindor two years above them who had been hellbent on wooing her for almost four months now. Unlike James, who had been smitten with Lily since they were eleven and asked her out at least once a week, Davis was aggressive - cornering her in half-empty hallways only to speak over her, invading her personal space whenever he got the chance, and making creepy sexual innuendos anytime a teacher was out of ear-shot. At this point it didn’t even seem to be about her. He just liked the chase and enjoyed making girls squirm. Even girls who hated his guts.

“Just tell him to piss off”, James suggested with a shrug

“Oh jeez, thanks James! Why didn’t I think of that?” She rolled her eyes, “I’ve told him to piss off a hundred times, in a hundred different ways! But he’s relentless- convinced I’m playing ‘hard to get’ or some bullshit like that. The only thing I think would actually get the misogynistic bastard to leave me alone is if he thinks I’m already seeing someone. So,” she said, turning again to Sirius, “can you just pretend to be my boyfriend, Black?”

“Why me? Ask Remus - you two already spend all your time together, surely dating isn’t that much of a stretch!” She shook her head impatiently, “He’s gayer than Bowie and everyone knows it!”. The boy in question huffed a laugh, “Cheers, love.” She ignored him.

“Get James to do it then!” Sirius exclaimed, and the messy-haired boy next to him opened his mouth, sitting up straighter. He probably would do it, she thought, because he would do just about anything for his friends. The noble idiot.  “Oh please, you think anyone would believe that this lovesick fool has moved on from Lily?” She retorted, making a vague gesture towards James, who just grinned ruefully and relaxed back into his seat, nodding his head in agreement.

“And you think anyone would believe we are a couple?” She paused for a second, unsure of how to answer. Although she and Sirius had always been… sort of… friends, it was largely only because of her friendship with the other Marauders - mainly studying with Remus and playing quidditch with James. While they inevitably spent a lot of time together due to their mutual friends, it was true that they were at each other’s throats more often than not, she supposed. Remus was complaining just last week about their constant bickering and their incessant need to outcompete each other in every little thing. 

She was saved from answering by James. “Actually, a Ravenclaw in our charms class - you know, Macmillan? - asked me if you two were dating a couple of weeks ago.” 

They both turned to look at him, shocked, and he just shrugged, “he said he wanted to ask you to Hogsmeade but wanted to make sure nothing was going on between you and Sirius”. Before she could unscramble her thoughts enough to answer, Remus piped up from his armchair. “A girl in the year below asked me something similar recently. Thought she might have a shot with Sirius, but wasn’t sure. She said something about you two having ‘chemistry’ at that party after the last quidditch match.” She fought the blush that spread across her cheeks at the memory. They’d thrashed Slytherin last month and she’d gotten pretty drunk at the party in Gryffindor tower afterwards. She always got a bit flirty when she drank, and Sirius was a shameless flirt even when he was stone cold sober. They’d traded a few harmless remarks early in the night, and later, though she couldn’t really remember how it happened, she ended up dancing to some ABBA songs with her back pressed against Sirius' chest, his arms around her waist and his hot breath on her neck. It hadn’t led anywhere - in fact she had been pretending it never happened - but she still felt a burning pit in her stomach whenever she thought about the way he had felt pressed against her, or the way he had grinned and licked his lips when she turned around and they danced chest to chest.

She shook herself slightly and forced herself to look at Sirius, who was frowning at Remus. “Plus,” she said bitingly, “you’ve established a pretty solid reputation for fucking anything that moves”. Sirius scowled at her before roughly shoving himself up from the couch and strolling past her to the record player that was now sitting idle, the last track having finished. She watched his tense shoulders as he carefully selected a new record and switched them over. She softened her tone, “I’m sure Davis will move on and start pestering some other poor girl before long. I just need you to play the overprotective boyfriend role until he backs off.” She shared a glance with Remus and James when he still didn’t respond. “Please,” she finally relented. When Black still didn’t answer, now decidedly fiddling with the tuning knobs on the record player, she sighed. She’d have to find another way to deter Davis and it’d have to be soon - she didn’t know how many more times she could hear his sleazy “hiya sweetheart”, before she’d resort to hexing him. And that would probably just make him re-double his efforts.

She barely noted the sound of the gryffindor portrait opening to let someone into the common room, but then- “There ya are sweetheart! Bin lookin’ all over for ya!” She gritted her teeth, turning around to see Lucas Davis stalking towards her, that stupid fucking smirk on his face. “Can’t think why, given that you saw me an hour ago and I told you to ‘leave me the fuck alone’”, she snapped. She could see both Remus and James tense in her peripherals, probably preparing to tell Davis to ‘fuck off’ themselves, but Sirius remained silent behind her. Davis either didn’t notice the two boys glaring at him, or didn’t care, and he only smiled wider, “aw come on princess, don’ be like that!” He whined, “I think you just need-” 

But she never found out what he thought she needed, as Sirius suddenly stepped up to her side, casually slung an arm around her shoulder and drawled, “You heard my girl, fuck off and leave her alone.” Davis visibly recoiled, and she might have laughed at his shocked expression had she not been entirely preoccupied by Sirius' comforting warmth as he leant against her. “Your girl?” He sputtered. 

“My girl.” Sirius repeated, and she could hear the mocking smile in his voice, “Girlfriend, paramour, lover, whatever. The point is: fuck. off.” Even Remus seemed to be hiding a grin as Davis stood there, dumbstruck, his eyes darting between her and Sirius as though stupefied. She relaxed into Sirius embrace and intertwined her fingers with his where they hung over her shoulder. “Bye Davis”, she crooned, with a smug smile. He seemed to struggle for another moment before turning on his heel and striding out the door without another word.

[3rachaslut]

I would love to request gentle+ comfort sex with Chris where reader is upset and chris proceeds to love the sadness away?

bonus points if it includes daddy but you dont have too if you're not comfortable

are you KIDDING?! i have the biggest daddy kink ever hxvekwn hi twin! 🤍 also i feel like chan is such an amazing lover, like the way he would be so loving to you during sex omg it makes me cry :’(

also, take a shot each time you read the world beautiful xox

chan x female reader

contents: kinda angst but mainly smut. reader is going through some shit. pet names, daddy kink, fingering, domxsub kinda.

MINORS DNI !!!

you couldn’t really remember how long you had been feeling so drained, sat resting on the headboard of yours and chris’ bed, wiping away the endless tears that just kept pouring out of you. work was a lot right now and your self esteem was at an all time low. you usually tried to keep a handle on your emotions as best you could so you didn’t lose your head, but tonight, every thought spinning around your head left you feeling as if you were drowning. you were suddenly snapped out of your thoughts by chris calling your name, accompanied by a knock of the bedroom door. rapidly wiping the tears from your eyes, you try your best to throw a smile his way but there was no fooling him. as soon as he saw your red, puffy eyes and shaking hands, his heart sank.

“oh angel, what’s the matter” he gasps, quickly running to sit next to you on the bed. at his words, you couldn’t help but let out a staggered breath you didn’t realise you were holding. resting your tired head upon his shoulder, he wrapped his hand to cup your head against him, rubbing calming circles that eased the tension in your head slightly. “hey it’s okay, what’s happened?”

“chris.. i can’t do this.” you whine, ambiguity coating your sentence as you cling your arms around him.

“do what love? talk to me.” he pleas softly. you turn your head to look into his eyes and he plants a kiss on your forehead. “talk to me baby, i’m here for you. always.”

“it’s just everything. work is so stressful right now and no matter how well i do at a particular job, they always find some reason that im not good enough. i’m so busy with work that i haven’t had time to see my friends and family and you’re working so much more recently with your new comeback that i’m hardly seeing you and… i’m just… tired. i feel like no matter what i do, nothing is getting better. i feel like im stuck in limbo and i can’t see a way out of it.” you blurt out all at once, continuing on and on and all the while, chris is listening attentively to your words that are crushing him inside. his beautiful angel shouldn’t be feeling this way. he wanted to take all your pain away.

“anyway, i don’t really wanna dwell on it anymore. you’re back home and i haven’t really spent any time with you for ages” you tilt your head to look into his worried eyes and he smiles at you as best as he can. he is worried about you but he didn’t want to keep you talking about it if you didn’t want to as well. you would rant to him when you wanted to at another time if that’s what you needed. right now he knew that you needed a distraction. taking your cheek into his hand, he plants a kiss on your swollen lips in which you deepen. you’ve needed this for so long. you let out a relived sigh at his lips against yours once he pulls away and he rests his forehead against yours.

“my beautiful, beautiful girl” he whispers, causing goosebumps to form along the nape of your neck. you let out an unsure hum at his words. “you are, baby girl. absolutely stunning”

“i just.. don’t really feel like it right now. i mean, look at me. my hair is a mess and my eyes and face are all puffy-” chan interrupts by gripping your cheeks into his hands, making you look into his eyes. those gorgeous eyes you get lost in every time.

“baby.. you’re the most perfect, amazing, beautiful, sexiest girl i have ever seen” he says, tilting your chin back up to look at him, after looking down from shying away at his words of admiration. “look at me” and you do. your worries one by one beginning to float away just by looking at the man in front of you. your man in front of you.

“let me show you how beautiful you are baby girl. please. let me love your sadness away angel” he whispers out, slowly leaning over you and laying you down underneath him. you nod with a smile on your face. how could you ever refuse? he trails two fingers along the entirety of your upper half, starting at your left temple and all the way down to your waistband. your eyes flutter shut at the slightest touch that set fire to your skin. after years, he still had such an affect on you even with minimal touch. he hooks his finger around the hem of your pj shorts and pulls them down around your knees which you assist in discarding. continuing down your thigh, towards your knee and back again, shivers of anticipation took over you.

“i wish you could see how beautiful you look y/n. even more beautiful underneath me..” he teases as his delicate traces get closer and closer to your impatient pussy. you grind your hips upwards in response, now desperate for him to touch you and hum in aggravation when he moved his hand all together. he leans in toward your face and your breath hitches in your throat.

“baby..” chan hums warningly, raising an eyebrow at your gesture. “please…” you mewl out, your pussy throbbing at his dominant tone. “please what babe?”

“please… daddy” you utter and he instantly slides his fingers to rub your clit, your body jolting at the sudden touch. you let out a loud moan, your head tilts back and your eyes begin to roll back in bliss.

“good girl” he praises as he begins to suck marks against your now exposed neck. you begin to shake under him at the stimulation and he slowly trails his fingers towards your entrance. a staggered breath leaves your throat.

“look at me y/n. what do you say?”

“please daddy” you gasp out as he slowly inserts just the tip of his fingers into your wet cunt.

“please what?” he torments. “hmm?”

“please finger me daddy” you beg as he looks into your desperate eyes. you nearly scream out your last word as he shoves the entirety of his two fingers inside you, curling his fingers in just the right spot causing your legs to shake uncontrollably. moans were leaving your mouth relentlessly which only encouraged chris to go faster and faster. the sounds of your wet pussy filled the room and you couldn’t help but cover your face in embarrassment.

“don’t you dare hide that beautiful face from me y/n. fuck- love hearing the sounds your wet cunt makes for me doll” chan says, his voice slightly raised which only added to the arousal you were feeling. “fuck baby you’re so sexy”

“chri- daddy! i’m gonna come!” you nearly scream out as you feel the knot in your stomach threatening to come undone. your head is thrashing against the pillow and your hands desperately cling to the duvet under you. chan worked his fingers faster inside of you and your mouth gapes open. you look up to see his face only inches away from yours.

“then come baby girl” he whispers down you ear and you do. hard. your body contorts so much from your orgasm anyone else would think you needed an exorcism. screams and curses where flying from your mouth as you threw your head back towards the headboard.

“fuck- chri- daddy FUCK daddy ahh” you cry as you ride out your orgasm, attempting to catch your breath as you come down. chan plants kisses on your sweaty forehead and down towards the tip of your nose.

“don’t ever believe you are not the most beautiful woman in the world. at least in my eyes darling”

[mcrdvcks]

—what is this feeling?

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

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

pairing: Peter Lyman x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

⁠♡ part 2 ♡

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

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

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

Your eyebrows rose and you stuttered, “but—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You do. You totally do.”

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

---

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

“Do you know this piece?”

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

“But?” Olivia prompted, leaning forward eagerly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Olivia smirked. “Did you say yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Friday,” you mumbled.

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

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

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

“Liv, I swear—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joshua Beckett,” he muttered to himself, his voice low and contemplative, before diving underwater.

---

You and Olivia walked through the hedges into the garden area, where small tables were set up and people already mingling.

“Do you think they have those finger sandwiches I like?” you asked Olivia, scanning the tables set up around the garden. Your voice was quieter than usual, the low hum of polite chatter filling the air.

“I’m sure they do,” Olivia replied, smirking. “I mean, Peter’s father wouldn’t dare host a garden party without catering to your very specific sandwich preferences, right?”

You rolled your eyes, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “You’re hilarious.”

“Always,” she said, giving you a quick pat on the shoulder before her eyes drifted to the side. “Oh, speaking of Peter—there he is. He looks like he’s on host duty already.”

Before you could turn, Olivia raised a hand, waving him over.

Peter approached with his usual effortless confidence, a light smile on his face. His suit was perfectly tailored—charcoal gray, understated but sharp—and he moved with the ease of someone who had never once felt out of place in a crowd.

“Olivia,” he greeted warmly. “Y/N.” His gaze flicked to you, lingering just a second longer than necessary. “Glad you could both make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Olivia said, grinning. “I already saw the sandwiches, by the way. You’ve kept Y/N’s favorites. Excellent hosting.”

Peter chuckled softly. “Of course. Wouldn’t dream of disappointing.” He shifted slightly, his eyes scanning the immediate area. “Where’s she gone?”

Olivia blinked and glanced beside her, only to realize you were no longer there. “Wait, what? She was just—”

Peter raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Impressive. That might be the quickest escape yet.”

“She does that sometimes,” Olivia said, sighing dramatically. “It’s like she’s made of smoke or something. Well, I’m sure she hasn’t gone far. I’ll catch up with her in a bit.”

Peter gave a polite nod, though his gaze was already moving past her, scanning the clusters of guests. “No need. I’ll find her.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and disappeared into the garden’s maze of tables and guests.

---

You were standing by one of the smaller tables, a tiny plate in hand, already nibbling on a finger sandwich. You’d ducked out as soon as Peter walked over—not because you didn’t want to talk to him, but because it was always a little overwhelming when he was around. Somehow, he managed to be both incredibly easy to talk to and completely impossible to read at the same time.

The garden was peaceful, at least. You focused on the sounds of the birds and the clinking glasses, taking a moment to settle your nerves.

“Enjoying yourself?”

You jumped slightly at the sound of Peter’s voice, almost dropping your plate. He stood just a few steps away, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

“I—uh—yes,” you stammered, quickly wiping your mouth with a napkin. “I was just…” You gestured vaguely to the table of food.

“Finding the sandwiches, I see,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah,” you admitted, glancing down at the one in your hand. “They’re really good.”

“I’m glad,” Peter replied, stepping closer. “I’ll have to thank the caterer for getting them just right. Though, knowing you, you probably would’ve just been polite if they weren’t.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his observation. “Well, I mean… it’s not like I’d complain.”

He chuckled, his gaze steady on you. “No, you wouldn’t. But I’m glad they’re up to your standards.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind that felt heavy despite the lightness of the conversation. You fidgeted slightly, unsure what to say, until Peter spoke again.

“Did you enjoy your date?”

Your eyes snapped up to meet his, startled. “What?”

Peter stood much closer than before, his expression casual, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity. “Your date,” he said smoothly, as if it were the most natural topic in the world. “With Joshua Beckett. Olivia mentioned it.”

You ducked your head, suddenly finding your plate very interesting. “Oh, right. That. It was fine.”

“Fine,” Peter repeated, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Such high praise.”

You looked up, narrowing your eyes slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He tilted his head slightly, his tone light. “Nothing at all. Just… ‘fine’ doesn’t exactly scream thrilling success.”

“Well, it wasn’t a disaster,” you said defensively, clutching your plate tighter. “He was nice.”

“Nice,” Peter echoed, his tone amused. “That’s the second glowing endorsement.”

“Peter,” you sighed, finally meeting his gaze. “What are you getting at?”

He paused, studying you for a moment before responding. “I’m just curious. You don’t usually go out with people like Joshua.”

Your brow furrowed. “People like Joshua? What does that even mean?”

“Well,” he began, his voice as smooth as ever, “he’s the youngest son of a very ambitious family. Polished, charming, likely quite used to getting what he wants.”

“So… people like you,” you countered without thinking, then froze, immediately regretting it. “I mean—uh, not that you—just that—”

Peter laughed softly, the sound low and rich. “Touché.”

You pressed your lips together, looking down at your sandwich. “For the record, he didn’t get what he wanted.”

His brows lifted in mild surprise. “Oh?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “I told him I wasn’t interested in a second date.”

There was a pause, and when you glanced up, Peter’s expression was unreadable. “I see.”

Before you could decipher his tone, he straightened, glancing past you. “Excuse me a moment,” Peter said, his tone as smooth as ever. He stepped around you, heading toward the two new people with an effortless grace.

You turned, following his line of sight. A young woman with straight blonde hair and wiry glasses stood by the tables with an older man wearing a copper blazer.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his attention. Before you could process it, Olivia appeared at your side, holding a glass of sparkling water.

“Who’s he off to save now?” she asked, smirking as she handed you the glass.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, nodding toward the two strangers. “They just walked in, and he left to meet them.”

Olivia squinted in their direction, taking a sip of her drink. “Hmm. They don’t look like the usual crowd. Maybe business?”

“Could be,” you murmured, watching as Peter shook hands with the older man before gesturing toward the house.

“Should we ask?” Olivia teased, nudging your arm.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s probably something private. Let’s just stay out of it.”

Olivia grinned knowingly. “Right, because that’s exactly what we’re doing by standing here and staring.”

You sighed, looking away from the scene. “I’m just curious, okay? It’s not like I’m going to eavesdrop.”

“Sure,” Olivia said, clearly unconvinced.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Peter lead the two guests toward the house. His hand rested lightly on the small of the blonde woman’s back as they disappeared into the crowd. You tried not to let it bother you, but Olivia didn’t miss the way your grip on your glass tightened.

“Who’s jealous now?” she muttered under her breath.

“I’m not jealous,” you replied quickly, though your tone betrayed you.

“Uh-huh,” Olivia said, smirking. “Well, if you’re not going to ask, I will.”

Before you could stop her, she turned and started following the trio.

“Olivia, wait—” you called after her, but she waved a hand dismissively over her shoulder.

---

A few minutes later, Olivia reappeared, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. She found you lingering near the garden’s edge, nervously sipping your drink.

“So, I have news,” she announced, leaning against a tree.

“Olivia,” you groaned. “What did you do?”

“Relax,” Olivia said with a grin, casually tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I just asked Peter who they were. Turns out, the blonde is Jade Spence—some aspiring actress from Palm Beach—and her father, Mr. Spence. They’re staying with the Fultons.”

You blinked, trying not to let your curiosity show too much. “The Fultons? As in… the Fultons?”

Olivia nodded, her smirk growing. “Yup. And Peter’s apparently been playing tour guide or something. He mentioned meeting her a few days ago.”

You frowned slightly, glancing toward the house where Peter had disappeared with Jade and Mr. Spence. “Tour guide?”

Olivia shrugged, swirling the water in her glass. “Or lifeguard, maybe. He said something about saving her from drowning in the pool.”

Your head whipped around. “What?”

“I know, right? So dramatic,” Olivia said with a laugh. “Apparently, it was this whole thing. She was swimming alone, started panicking, and Peter swooped in like the hero he is.”

You looked down, fiddling with the edge of your plate. “Well, that’s… nice of him.”

“Uh-huh,” Olivia said, giving you a pointed look. “And now he’s escorting her around garden parties. Very hands-on for a guy who’s usually so… you know. Detached.”

Your stomach churned uncomfortably, but you forced a nonchalant tone. “Maybe he’s just being polite. She’s staying with the Fultons, after all.”

“Polite?” Olivia echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Y/N, Peter doesn’t do polite for strangers. He’s always charming, but this is different. He’s… interested.”

You felt your chest tighten, but you quickly shook your head. “It’s probably nothing. She’s just visiting, and he’s being a good host.”

Olivia studied you for a moment, her smirk fading. “You know, you’re allowed to be annoyed.”

“I’m not annoyed,” you said quickly, but your voice wavered just enough for Olivia to catch it.

“Right,” she said, crossing her arms. “Because you’re totally fine with Peter playing Prince Charming for a random blonde from Florida.”

You frowned. “What do you want me to say, Olivia? It’s not like Peter and I—” You cut yourself off, your cheeks burning.

Olivia leaned in, her voice low but teasing. “Not like you what? C’mon, Y/N, finish that sentence.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Forget it.”

“Nope, not forgetting it,” Olivia said, pulling your hands away. “Listen, I’m not saying you need to storm the house and stake a claim or whatever. But if Peter’s trying to make you jealous, it’s working.”

You blinked at her. “You think he’s doing this on purpose?”

"Could be. I mean, Peter’s smart. He knows what he’s doing," Olivia said with a shrug, her eyes glinting mischievously.

You snorted, shaking your head. "That’s ridiculous. Why would he try to make me jealous? He doesn’t even like me like that."

Olivia tilted her head, giving you an exasperated look. "You seriously believe that?"

"Yes," you said firmly, though your voice wavered slightly. "Peter’s always been polite, maybe a little flirty, but that’s just how he is with everyone. He doesn’t—" You stopped yourself, suddenly self-conscious.

"He doesn’t what?" Olivia pressed, leaning closer with that knowing smirk.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "He doesn’t see me that way, okay? I’m just… his cousin’s friend. The tagalong at family stuff. That’s it."

Olivia’s smirk dropped, replaced by something softer. "Y/N, you’re seriously blind if you don’t think he’s at least interested."

You bit your lip, fidgeting with your drink. "It doesn’t matter. Even if he were—which he’s not—he’s clearly more interested in Jade right now."

Olivia snorted. "Jade Spence? Are you kidding? That’s just Peter being Peter. I bet he swooped in to ‘save’ her and now feels obligated to play the perfect host."

"Or maybe he actually likes her," you muttered, barely audible.

Olivia stared at you for a beat before sighing dramatically. "You’re exhausting, you know that? The guy practically lights up every time you’re in the room, and you’re over here acting like he’s planning a wedding with some random actress from Florida."

You opened your mouth to respond, but Olivia cut you off, pointing her finger at you. "Nope. Don’t even argue. If you’re too stubborn to see it, fine. But mark my words, Y/N—he’s not into Jade. He’s into you."

"That’s insane," you said quickly, brushing past her toward the refreshments table. "You’re reading way too much into this."

"Am I?" Olivia called after you, clearly enjoying herself. "Guess we’ll see."

---

Later that day when you got back to your apartment, you walked over to the rotary phone and dialed the number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Joshua. I know I said I wasn’t interested in a second date, but—well, if you were, not that you have to…”

You cringed, gripping the phone cord tightly as silence filled the line. Then, Joshua’s warm voice came through, as composed as ever.

“Y/N, hi. I wasn’t expecting this, but… I’d love to. If you’re sure?”

You glanced at the clock on the wall, your stomach twisting with nerves. “Yeah, I mean… I thought maybe I judged too quickly last time. You’re really nice, and it wasn’t fair to just—”

“Don’t overthink it,” Joshua interrupted gently. “How about Friday? Dinner at that Italian place by the park?”

“Sure,” you replied quickly, your voice higher-pitched than usual. “Friday sounds good.”

“Great,” he said, his tone genuinely warm. “I’ll call to confirm. I’m glad you changed your mind, Y/N.”

You hung up, staring at the phone for a moment before groaning. “What am I doing?”

---

By the time Friday rolled around, Olivia had found out about the second date, of course.

“I can’t believe you called him,” she said, draped across your bed as you picked through your closet. “It’s like you’re trying to drive yourself crazy.”

“I didn’t call him to drive myself crazy,” you shot back, holding up a simple black dress. “I called because—”

“Because you were spiraling after seeing Peter with Jade Spence,” Olivia finished smugly.

You turned toward her with a glare. “That’s not why.”

“Right,” she said, sitting up and smirking. “So why is it, then?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Maybe I just don’t want to waste a chance with someone who’s nice to me.”

Olivia snorted. “Nice? Joshua Beckett is nice? That’s the bar now?”

You sighed, tossing the dress on the bed. “He’s not just nice. He’s smart, and he listens, and—”

“And he’s not Peter,” Olivia interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

“Liv,” you groaned.

“Okay, okay,” she said, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “Wear the black dress. He’ll like it. Or whatever.”

---

While you went on your date with Joshua, Olivia went to the party Peter was hosting at his place. When she entered, Peter looked at the door and grabbed two glasses of champagne. “Ah, Olivia.” They kissed each other’s cheeks as a greeting. The door closed behind her causing Peter to glance over at the now shut door. “Where is Y/N? She’s not sick again, is she?”

Olivia shrugged off her coat handing it to the waiter with a thanks. “Oh, no. She’s on a date with Joshua.” She grabbed both glasses from Peter’s hands, one clearly meant for you.

Peter’s expression didn’t change immediately, but his fingers tightened into a momentary fist. “Joshua,” he said slowly, his tone neutral. “I see.”

Olivia sipped from one of the glasses she’d swiped, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Yup. Second date. She called him, actually. Kind of a bold move for Y/N, don’t you think?”

“Very bold,” Peter replied, his voice calm but clipped. “I thought she wasn’t interested.”

Olivia shrugged, her lips curling into a sly smile. “She changed her mind. Or maybe someone made her change her mind.”

Peter’s gaze flicked toward her, sharp as glass. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” Olivia said innocently, taking another sip. “Just that she seemed a little… distracted after your garden party. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Of course not,” Peter said smoothly, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “I didn’t realize I had such influence over her decision-making.”

Olivia tilted her head, studying him. “You know, for someone who’s supposedly indifferent, you seem awfully interested in her dating life.”

Peter’s jaw tightened imperceptibly. “She’s your friend. Naturally, I’m curious.”

“Right,” Olivia drawled, clearly enjoying herself. “Well, if you’re so curious, maybe you should ask her about it. Or better yet, tell her why it bothers you so much.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Peter said, his tone cool. “She’s free to make her own choices.”

“Uh-huh,” Olivia replied, giving him a knowing look. “So, you’re totally fine with her going out with a guy like Joshua Beckett? Polished, ambitious, very… not you?”

Peter’s lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. “What an interesting way to phrase it.”

“Just calling it like I see it,” Olivia said lightly. She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “You know, Peter, you could just admit you like her. Might save everyone a lot of time.”

Peter didn’t answer immediately, his gaze drifting toward the door. “I think I’ll fetch another drink,” he said finally. “Excuse me.”

“Running away?” Olivia teased, but Peter was already walking off, his steps measured and deliberate.

---

“He was actually quite nice. And he likes math and sci-fi movies,” you said, plopping down onto Olivia’s couch.

Olivia leaned against the armrest, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Math and sci-fi movies? Be still my heart. Did he also show you his extensive collection of pocket protectors?”

You frowned, tossing a throw pillow at her. “I’m serious! He’s smart, and… I don’t know, easy to talk to.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, dodging the pillow effortlessly. “And yet, here you are, talking to me about him like he’s your neighbor’s golden retriever. You’re trying too hard to sell it, Y/N.”

“I’m not trying to sell anything,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “It was a nice date. That’s it.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “Did you agree to another one?”

You hesitated, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “He asked. I said I’d think about it.”

“There it is,” Olivia said, sitting up straight. “You’re not even sure, are you?”

“It’s not like that,” you protested weakly.

“It’s exactly like that,” she shot back. “You’re trying to convince yourself he’s interesting because—oh, let me guess—Peter has you in knots.”

You sighed heavily, rubbing your temples. “Why does everything always come back to Peter with you?”

“Because you get weird whenever he’s involved!” Olivia said, throwing her hands up. “Seriously, you were fine until Jade Spence showed up with her Barbie vibes, and now you’re spiraling.”

“I am not spiraling,” you said firmly.

“Oh, please,” Olivia scoffed. “You practically ran to Joshua the second you saw Peter being nice to her. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

You glared at her. “Maybe I just wanted to see if there was something there with Joshua.”

“And?” she challenged.

You hesitated, biting your lip. “…And I don’t know.”

Olivia sighed, leaning back into the couch cushions. “Y/N, listen to me. You can go on a hundred dates with guys like Joshua, but it’s not going to change how you feel about Peter.”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t even try,” she interrupted, holding up a hand. “You do. And it’s painfully obvious to anyone with eyes. So, instead of wasting your time on Mr. Math Enthusiast, maybe you should figure out what’s actually going on with Peter.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the sound of the doorbell ringing cut you off. You looked at Olivia who looked at you.

“What are you doing? Go answer it.” Olivia said.

“What—but this is your apartment!” You argued.

Olivia pushed your side, “go on!”

You stood up and made it past her before turning around. “Peter’s not at the door is he?” She shrugged, not responding. “Olivia! You—”

The doorbell rang again, pulling you out of your thoughts. Olivia waved her hand toward the door, not bothering to look away from the TV. “Go already! It’s not going to answer itself.”

Muttering under your breath, you shuffled toward the door, half-wondering why Olivia wasn’t doing this herself. You swung it open, and there he was—standing impeccably dressed in a casual button-up and dark slacks, as if he’d stepped straight out of a magazine.

“Peter?” you blurted, gripping the doorknob a little tighter than necessary. “What are you doing here?”

He offered you a polite smile, holding up a small clutch. “Olivia left this behind at the party. I thought I’d return it before it got lost in the shuffle.”

You blinked, glancing at the bag in his hand. “Oh. Right. Well, thanks for bringing it by.”

“Of course.” His voice was smooth as always, but his eyes flicked past you into the apartment. “Is Olivia in?”

“Yeah, she’s—”

“Watching TV!” Olivia called from the couch. “Bring it here, Peter. And while you’re at it, grab me a soda, would you?”

You shot her a glare over your shoulder, but Peter chuckled softly. “Should I let myself in, or…?”

“Oh, come in,” Olivia said loudly. “Y/N doesn’t bite.”

Peter stepped past you with an easy smile, and you resisted the urge to retreat to the kitchen. Instead, you followed him into the living room, your stomach doing a weird little flip as he handed Olivia the clutch.

“Your soda,” he said with a smirk, “you’ll have to get yourself.”

“Ugh, useless,” Olivia teased, but she took the bag with a grin. “Thanks, though. I’d have never remembered it.”

Peter turned back to you, his expression unreadable. “So, Y/N. How was dinner with Joshua?”

Your cheeks burned immediately. “Oh, um, it was… fine.”

“Fine,” he repeated, the faintest hint of amusement in his tone. “You use that word a lot.”

“Well, it’s a good word,” you muttered, crossing your arms.

Peter didn’t look away, his gaze steady. “I take it things went well, then?”

Before you could answer, Olivia snorted. “She’s not seeing him again, if that’s what you’re fishing for.”

“Olivia!” you hissed, glaring at her.

“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “I’m just saving time.”

Peter’s brow lifted slightly, though his expression remained calm. “Not seeing him again?” he asked, directing the question to you. “That’s surprising. He seemed like a… suitable match.”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Peter tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Only that he seemed like someone who’d check all the right boxes.”

“Well, maybe I’m not interested in someone who just checks boxes,” you said before you could stop yourself.

Peter’s smile deepened, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Interesting.”

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken things, until Olivia cleared her throat dramatically. “Well, this is fun, but if no one’s grabbing me a soda, I’ll do it myself.”

She hopped off the couch, leaving you alone with Peter. You shifted awkwardly, clutching your arms. “So… thanks for bringing her bag by.”

“It was no trouble,” Peter said, his voice gentler now. “I could’ve had it sent over, but I thought it’d be nice to see you both.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Right. Well… it’s good to see you too.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping just slightly. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

Your eyes widened. “What? I haven’t—”

“You disappeared at the garden party,” he interrupted, his tone calm but firm. “And you weren’t at my party yesterday.”

You looked down, heat creeping up your neck. “I wasn’t avoiding you. I just… had other things going on.”

“Like Joshua?” he asked, his voice sharp enough to make you flinch.

You glanced up, meeting his gaze. “Why does it matter?”

He held your gaze, his expression softening. “Maybe it doesn’t.”

The sound of the fridge door slamming broke the moment, and Olivia reappeared with a soda in hand. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” you said quickly, stepping back. “Peter was just leaving.”

Peter’s lips twitched into a small smile, but he didn’t argue. “I should be going. Thank you, Olivia.”

“Anytime,” she replied, smirking. “Bye, Peter.”

He turned to you one last time, his eyes lingering for a moment. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you whispered, watching as he left.

Once the door shut, Olivia let out a low whistle. “Well, that was something.”

“Don’t,” you warned, already heading for the kitchen.

“I didn’t say anything!” Olivia called after you, her voice full of laughter. “But seriously, Y/N, you might want to think about what you’re doing.”

You groaned, opening the fridge. “What I’m doing is making tea.”

“Sure,” Olivia said lightly. “Because tea will totally solve your Peter problem.”

You slammed the fridge door shut, wishing it were that simple.

---

Joshua invited you over to a philharmonic concert. He had brought it up while he had taken you out for lunch during your break.

You accepted and now were walking through the elegant, familiar foyer of the concert hall, arm in arm with Joshua. The polished marble floors reflected the soft glow of the chandeliers, and the hum of polite conversation filled the air.

Joshua glanced at you, his smile easy. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you? You seem comfortable.”

“Once or twice,” you replied, trying not to think about the last time. With Peter.

“Ah, of course,” Joshua said lightly. “It’s one of my favorite venues. The acoustics are exceptional.”

As he spoke, your eyes caught a familiar figure just across the room. Peter. He was standing near the staircase, chatting with Jade Spence, who laughed at something he said, her hand briefly touching his arm.

You stiffened, and Joshua followed your gaze. His brow lifted slightly. “Peter Lyman. What a surprise. Didn’t expect to see him here tonight.”

Your voice was tight. “He enjoys the Philharmonic.”

Joshua chuckled softly. “Don’t we all? Come on, let’s say hello.”

“Wait—” you started, but Joshua was already steering you toward them.

Peter noticed you first. His eyes flickered from Joshua to you, his expression unreadable, though there was a subtle shift in his posture. Jade turned as well, her bright smile widening when she saw Joshua.

“Joshua Beckett,” Peter greeted smoothly, his voice carrying that effortless charm. “Good to see you.”

“Peter,” Joshua replied, shaking his hand. “And Jade Spence, of course. I heard you were in town.”

Jade’s laugh was nervous. “Uh—yes, with my father.” Her gaze shifted to you, her smile polite but curious. “And you are?”

“Y/N,” you said softly, glancing at Peter briefly. His gaze was steady, focused, and unsettlingly intense.

“Ah, yes,” Jade said, her tone light. “I think Peter mentioned you.”

Your stomach flipped at that, but Joshua cut in before you could dwell on it. “Y/N is a dear friend. We’re enjoying the evening together.”

Peter’s jaw tightened, though his smile didn’t falter. “How lovely. I’m sure you’ll both enjoy the program tonight. It’s one of my favorites.”

“You’ve got great taste, as always,” Joshua replied smoothly, before glancing at his watch. “We should find our seats, Y/N. Don’t want to miss the overture.”

“Of course,” you said quickly, eager to leave the tension hanging in the air.

“Enjoy the performance,” Peter said, his eyes lingering on you as Joshua led you away. You didn’t dare look back.

---

Your seats were directly in front of Peter and Jade. As the orchestra began, you focused on the stage, but you could feel Peter’s gaze like a weight on your back. Joshua leaned closer to point out something about the composer, his voice low and warm, but you barely heard him.

Peter, meanwhile, wasn’t paying attention to the orchestra at all. His eyes never left you, the flicker of a frown crossing his face whenever Joshua leaned in or made you smile.

Jade noticed. She shifted slightly in her seat, her voice a soft whisper. “Peter, you’re not even looking at the stage.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still locked on you. Finally, he leaned back, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Just admiring the company,” he said smoothly.

Jade glanced at you and Joshua, then back at Peter. Her brow arched, but she said nothing, returning her attention to the performance.

---

At intermission, you stayed in your seat, flipping through the concert program and trying to focus on the upcoming pieces. Joshua had gone to grab drinks, leaving you alone in the steadily emptying hall. The chatter of other patrons filled the space, but you tuned it out.

The soft creak of the seat next to you folding down made you glance up. Peter.

He sat with effortless ease, one leg crossed over the other, his hands resting on the arms of the chair. “You always were the studious type, weren’t you?” His voice was smooth, teasing but gentle.

You blinked, glancing between him and the program in your hands. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s intermission,” he replied simply, his gaze steady. “Thought I’d say hello. Is that a problem?”

“No,” you said quickly, shifting slightly in your seat. “It’s just… unexpected.”

Peter smirked faintly. “I’ve been told I’m full of surprises.” He leaned back slightly, his tone casual. “You know, this concert reminds me of when Olivia insisted you both take violin lessons. What were you—ten? Eleven?”

You stared at him, caught off guard by the memory. “I was ten. Olivia was eleven.”

He nodded, his smile growing. “Right. And she quit after one session, didn’t she? Said something about the teacher being ‘a tyrant in a cardigan.’”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “She hated it. And she convinced her parents it was pointless for both of us to continue, even though I wanted to keep going.”

Peter’s eyes softened. “I remember. You were disappointed for weeks.”

You glanced down at the program, your voice quieter now. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

“I noticed,” Peter said, his tone gentler. “You have this way of hiding how you feel, but it’s always there if you know where to look.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could respond, Peter glanced toward the aisle. “Here comes your date.”

You followed his gaze and spotted Joshua making his way back, carrying two glasses of wine. Peter stood smoothly, his polite smile firmly back in place.

“Enjoy the rest of the concert,” he said, his tone light as he stepped aside to let Joshua pass.

Joshua handed you one of the glasses, glancing at Peter as he moved back toward his own seat. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, taking a sip of your wine. “He was just saying hello.”

Joshua nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “You and Peter are close, aren’t you?”

You hesitated. “I guess. We’ve known each other a long time.”

“Hmm,” Joshua murmured, his gaze flicking briefly toward Peter and Jade, who were chatting again near the back of the hall. “He seems… invested.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, your voice defensive.

Joshua shrugged, a faint smile on his lips. “Just an observation.”

The bell chimed, signaling the end of intermission. You followed Joshua back to your seats, settling in as the lights dimmed.

As the orchestra began, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. You didn’t dare glance back, but you could feel Peter’s gaze like a tangible weight.

Joshua leaned closer, pointing out something in the performance. You nodded along, but your focus was elsewhere.

Behind you, Peter sat beside Jade, his expression unreadable as his eyes lingered on you. Jade noticed, her voice barely a whisper. “Peter, you’re missing the performance.”

“I’m not,” he murmured, though his gaze remained fixed on you.

Jade sighed softly but didn’t press further, turning her attention back to the stage.

You, meanwhile, tried to ignore the tension coiling in your chest, the strange awareness that had followed you since intermission.

The music swelled, filling the hall, but all you could think about was the man sitting just a few rows behind you.

---

“He what?” Olivia shrieked. “Oh, man. He’s relentless.”

“What do you mean ‘relentless?’” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against Olivia’s kitchen counter. “He’s the one who’s dating Jade in the first place.”

Olivia froze mid-sip of her tea, her eyebrows shooting up. Slowly, she set the mug down and turned to face you fully, her lips curling into a sly grin. “Ohhh, so now you admit it.”

“Admit what?” you asked, avoiding her gaze.

“That you care,” Olivia said, smirking. “Because last I checked, you were all ‘Peter’s not into me,’ and ‘Jade Spence is just a guest,’ blah, blah, blah.”

You scoffed, pushing off the counter. “That’s not what this is about. I just think it’s ridiculous you’re calling him relentless when he’s clearly moved on.”

Olivia gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “Moved on? From what, exactly? Because to move on, you’d have to have been on something in the first place. And as far as I know, nothing’s ever happened between you two.”

“Exactly,” you said quickly, throwing your hands up. “So what’s the point?”

“The point,” Olivia said, stepping closer and poking your shoulder, “is that you’re jealous.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks were starting to burn. “I’m not jealous.”

“Really?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Because you literally just said, ‘he’s the one who’s dating Jade in the first place.’ That’s got ‘green-eyed monster’ written all over it.”

“That’s not—” you started, but Olivia cut you off.

“Y/N, come on,” she said, her tone softer now. “You’ve been acting weird ever since Jade showed up. You’re suddenly going out with Joshua, of all people, and now you’re watching Peter like a hawk every time he’s in the same room.”

“I’m not—” you tried again, but Olivia just kept going.

“And don’t even get me started on the way you probably looked at him during the concert,” she said, crossing her arms. “You might as well have had a flashing sign over your head that said, ‘I wish I was sitting next to him.’”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “You’re reading way too much into this.”

“Am I?” Olivia said, leaning closer. “Because from where I’m standing, it’s pretty obvious. You like Peter. And whether you want to admit it or not, him hanging out with Jade is driving you nuts.”

You didn’t respond right away, staring at the floor as Olivia’s words sank in. Finally, you muttered, “It doesn’t matter. He’s with her. End of story.”

“Y/N,” Olivia said, exasperated. “You don’t get it, do you? He’s not with her. He’s using her.”

Your head snapped up, your eyes narrowing. “That’s a terrible thing to say. Peter’s not like that.”

“Oh, please,” Olivia said, rolling her eyes. “Peter’s a lot of things, but subtle isn’t one of them. He’s parading Jade around because he’s trying to get a reaction out of you.”

“That’s insane,” you said, shaking your head. “Why would he—”

“Because he likes you, you idiot!” Olivia practically shouted, throwing her hands up. “And he doesn’t know how to deal with it because you’ve been so busy convincing yourself he doesn’t!”

You stared at her, stunned into silence. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint ticking of the clock on the wall.

Finally, you found your voice. “If that’s true,” you said quietly, “then why hasn’t he said anything?”

Olivia sighed, her expression softening. “Because he’s Peter. He’s not going to lay it all out there unless he’s sure it’s what you want too.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. Deep down, a small part of you wondered if Olivia was right—if Peter’s actions, his lingering looks, and his sudden attention to Jade were all because of you. But another part of you was too afraid to believe it.

“Well?” Olivia said, raising an eyebrow. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Olivia smirked, leaning back against the counter. “Well, you’d better figure it out. Because if you don’t, someone else is going to make the first move. And I don’t think you’ll like how that turns out.”

You swallowed hard, her words echoing in your mind as you stared out the window, unsure of what your next step should be.

---

The party at Baron Edward’s estate was in full swing, and you found yourself clinging to the edge of the crowd, sipping something sparkling and pretending to look interested in the artwork on the walls. Joshua was mingling effortlessly, charming guests with his smooth conversation and quick wit. Olivia had disappeared somewhere, likely causing her usual brand of chaos.

Across the room, Peter was standing near Jade, the two of them engaged in polite conversation with a small group. He looked as polished as ever, his tailored suit sharp against the warm glow of the chandeliers. You noticed his hand resting lightly on the back of Jade’s chair, and for reasons you didn’t want to unpack, it sent a pang through your chest.

Joshua reappeared at your side, offering you a warm smile. "What do you say, Y/N? Care to join me for a dance?"

You felt your cheeks heat up instantly, your fingers tightening on the glass of champagne you’d been nursing for the past half hour. "Oh, um… I don’t really think I’m—"

He gave you an easy smile, his hand already half-extended. "You’ll be fine. I promise not to step on your toes."

You shook your head quickly, the thought of dozens of pairs of eyes on you making your chest tighten. "I think I’ll sit this one out. Sorry."

Joshua tilted his head slightly, studying you for a moment before nodding. "No need to apologize. Maybe next time." He glanced around and spotted Olivia chatting with a group near the drinks table. "Mind if I steal your friend, then?"

"Not at all," you said quickly, grateful he didn’t press the issue.

Joshua smiled, gave you a small nod, and headed off toward Olivia, who didn’t hesitate to accept his offer. You watched as they made their way to the dance floor, Olivia laughing at something Joshua said as he spun her gracefully into the music.

"You could’ve at least warned him you were a terrible dancer."

The low, familiar voice sent a shiver down your spine. You turned to find Peter standing beside you, one hand tucked casually in the pocket of his perfectly tailored suit. His gaze was sharp but amused, his lips curved in a faint smile.

"I didn’t think it was necessary," you muttered, looking down at your glass.

Peter tilted his head, his tone light. "And here I thought you were just trying to keep him from getting too attached."

Your head shot up, your eyes narrowing. "That’s not—"

He chuckled softly, cutting you off. "Relax, Y/N. I’m joking. Though I have to say, I’m a little surprised. You used to love dancing when we were younger."

You frowned, crossing your arms. "That was different. We were kids, and no one was paying attention back then."

Peter’s smile deepened, his gaze unwavering. "And now?"

"Now," you said quickly, "it’s just… not my thing."

"Hmm," he mused, his tone carrying that infuriating mix of charm and challenge. "I don’t believe you."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to mask your growing discomfort. "Well, you don’t have to."

Peter didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he extended a hand toward you, his eyes meeting yours with quiet intensity. "Dance with me."

"What?" you blurted, your heart skipping a beat.

"You heard me," he said, his voice steady. "Dance with me. Just one song."

"I—I can’t," you stammered, glancing around nervously. "Not here."

Peter’s smile shifted, softer now but no less insistent. Without waiting for an answer, he took your glass from your hand, setting it down on a nearby table, and offered his arm. "Then let’s find somewhere quieter."

You hesitated, glancing toward the dance floor where Olivia and Joshua were spinning effortlessly among the other couples. "Peter, I don’t think—"

"Trust me," he interrupted gently.

Before you could protest, he guided you out of the main ballroom and into a dimly lit hallway just off to the side. The music followed faintly, softer now, the sounds of laughter and conversation fading into the background.

Peter stopped near a small alcove, his hand still lightly resting on your arm. "Better?"

You nodded, though your heart was still racing. "A little."

"Good," he said, stepping closer. He took your hand in his, his touch warm and steady. "Now, let’s try this again."

"Peter, I’m going to embarrass myself," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"You won’t," he said firmly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "It’s just us, Y/N. No one’s watching."

You hesitated, but the way he looked at you—patient, encouraging, and far too confident—made it impossible to say no.

"Okay," you murmured, your voice so soft you weren’t sure he even heard you.

Peter smiled, a genuine one this time, and placed your other hand lightly on his shoulder. His hand settled on your waist, the touch sending a strange flutter through your chest.

"See?" he said, his voice low as he guided you into a slow, swaying rhythm. "Nothing to it."

"I feel ridiculous," you admitted, glancing at your feet to make sure you weren’t stepping on him.

"Don’t," Peter said softly. "You’re doing fine."

You glanced up at him, his face closer than you’d realized. His expression was calm, but his eyes… there was something in them you couldn’t quite name.

The faint strains of the orchestra drifted through the hallway, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away.

"You’re not bad at this," Peter said after a while, his tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile crept onto your lips. "You’re a very biased judge."

"Maybe," he admitted, his lips twitching into a smirk. "But I’m right, aren’t I?"

You didn’t answer, your gaze dropping to his collar instead. His tie was slightly loosened, just enough to make him look effortlessly disheveled in a way that only Peter could manage.

"Y/N," he said softly, drawing your attention back to his face. His smile had faded, replaced by something quieter, more serious.

"Yes?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. "Why do you let him distract you?"

"Who?" you asked, confused.

"Joshua," Peter said simply, his tone calm but pointed. "You’re not interested in him."

You froze, your cheeks burning. "That’s not—"

"You don’t have to explain," he interrupted, his voice low. "I just… I don’t understand why you’re pretending."

Your chest tightened, his words cutting far closer to the truth than you wanted to admit. "I’m not pretending."

Peter’s eyes searched yours, his expression softening. "You don’t have to, Y/N. Not with me."

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the distant sound of the music filling the silence.

"I…" you started, but the words wouldn’t come.

Peter leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Think about it, Y/N. That’s all I’m asking."

You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as his words settled in the air between you. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the moment was gone.

Peter stepped back, his hand slipping from your waist. "Thank you for the dance."

You nodded mutely, watching as he turned and walked away, his footsteps fading down the hall.

Your heart was still racing, and as the music swelled again, you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had just changed.

---

A few days after the party you were laying on Olivia’s couch, a box of tissues in your lap and a cool rag on your forehead.

“Oh, sweetie.” Olivia cooed, taking the rag away from you.

“’M not a baby,” you muttered, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself as Olivia dabbed your forehead with the cool rag.

“I know,” she teased, sitting back on the edge of the coffee table. “But you’re my favorite patient, so deal with it.” You gave her a weak glare, which she met with a smirk. “Honestly, Y/N, you’re lucky I love you. I’ve got work in a bit, and instead of doing literally anything else, I’m here playing Florence Nightingale.”

“Don’t let me keep you,” you replied, your voice hoarse. “I’ll leave when you do. I’ll get a cab back to my place.”

Olivia frowned, crossing her arms. “You’re really going to haul yourself into a cab like this? You can just stay here.”

You shook your head, coughing lightly into a tissue. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want to be in your way.”

“Like you could ever be in my way,” Olivia scoffed, standing and smoothing her blouse. “Alright, if you insist on being stubborn, I’ll drop you at the cab stand on my way out.”

She disappeared down the hall to finish getting ready, and you closed your eyes, trying to focus on the sound of the TV in the background instead of the pounding in your head.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. You heard Olivia’s muffled footsteps and then the sound of the door opening.

“Oh, Peter,” Olivia said, her voice laced with mild surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” Peter replied smoothly. “Thought I’d check in.”

“Well, I’m heading to work in a minute,” Olivia said, her voice casual. “But Y/N’s in the living room. She’s not feeling great, though, so don’t expect sparkling conversation.”

There was a pause, and then you heard Peter’s footsteps approaching. You opened your eyes just as he entered the room, his expression softening when he saw you curled up on the couch.

“You look dreadful,” he said, his tone gentle but teasing.

“Thanks,” you croaked, giving him a weak smile.

He chuckled, crouching down so you were eye level. “What’s the plan? Olivia mentioned a cab.”

You nodded. “When she leaves, I’ll call one and head home.”

Peter frowned slightly, standing and crossing his arms. “No, you won’t.”

“Excuse me?” you said, sitting up a little.

“You’re not well,” he said firmly. “I’ll take you home.”

“Peter, that’s not necessary—”

“It is,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I don’t trust you to actually rest if you’re left to your own devices. Come on, let’s get you sorted.”

Olivia reappeared, shrugging into her coat and raising an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“Change of plans,” Peter said, offering you a hand. “I’m taking her home.”

You hesitated, glancing between them, but Olivia grinned. “Well, aren’t you sweet? Take good care of her, Peter. She’s a nightmare when she’s sick.”

“Noted,” Peter replied, helping you stand. “Let’s go, Y/N.”

---

The drive to your apartment was quiet. You leaned against the cool window, trying to ignore how warm your cheeks felt—not just from the fever, but from Peter’s presence.

When you reached your building, Peter insisted on helping you out of the car and up the stairs, his hand resting lightly on your back as you walked.

“You really don’t have to—”

“Y/N,” he said, cutting you off as he opened your apartment door with the spare key Olivia had borrowed and returned. “Let me help. You’re not going to convince me otherwise.”

Once inside, he guided you to the couch, setting your blanket over you and grabbing a pillow to tuck behind your head.

“Comfy?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You nodded, already feeling more at ease. “Thank you.”

Peter smiled faintly. “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t even started making tea.”

“You’re staying?” you asked, your eyes widening slightly.

“Of course,” he said lightly, already heading toward the kitchen. “Someone has to make sure you don’t keel over.”

“Peter, I can take care of myself,” you called after him, though the argument sounded weak even to your own ears.

“I’m sure you can,” he replied, his voice teasing. “But humor me.”

You sighed, leaning back into the cushions. As much as you hated to admit it, having him there was… comforting.

“Do you even know where I keep the tea?” you called, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“I’m resourceful,” he shot back, and you could hear the sound of cabinets opening and closing.

Shaking your head, you closed your eyes, letting the quiet sounds of him moving around your kitchen fill the air.

Peter returned from the kitchen a few minutes later, carrying a mug of tea. He crouched beside the couch, offering it to you with a soft smile. “Here. Drink this.”

You blinked at him, your fingers curling around the warm mug. “You really didn’t have to.”

He leaned an arm on the edge of the couch, his face a bit closer now. “I know. But I wanted to.”

You swallowed, unsure how to respond, so you took a small sip of the tea instead. The warmth spread through your chest, soothing in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Good?” he asked, watching you intently.

You nodded, your voice soft. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

He smiled, his eyes flickering to your hair. Without saying anything, he reached up, brushing a stray strand away from your face. The motion was so casual, yet it sent a flutter through your chest.

“You’re burning up,” Peter said quietly, his hand lingering near your cheek before he pressed it lightly against your forehead. “When’s the last time you took anything for the fever?”

You squirmed under his touch, your cheeks growing warmer—not from the fever, you were sure. “Uh… this morning, I think?”

Peter frowned slightly, standing up and moving toward the kitchen again. “Stay put. I’ll grab something for you.”

You watched him go, your heart thumping unreasonably loud in your chest. He was being nice—nicer than he needed to be—but you chalked it up to Peter just being… Peter. Charming. Polished. Practically perfect. And completely out of your league.

He returned a minute later with a small glass of water and some medicine, handing both to you while placing the mug on the coffee table. “Take these.”

You hesitated but followed his instructions, swallowing the pills quickly and handing the glass back. He set it on the side table before sitting on the edge of the coffee table again, his gaze never leaving your face.

“Better?” he asked.

“Not yet,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I will be. Thanks for… you know. Helping.”

Peter tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I’d hardly call this helping. It’s just making sure you’re not miserable on your own.”

You managed a small smile, sinking further into the couch. “Still. Thank you.”

He didn’t reply immediately, his gaze softening. He reached out again, his hand brushing lightly over your forehead as if checking your temperature once more. “You should try to sleep,” he murmured, his tone unusually gentle. “I’ll stay here.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you mumbled, already feeling your eyelids grow heavy.

“I know,” he said softly. “But I want to.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue, letting your head rest against the pillow. Peter adjusted the blanket around your shoulders, his movements careful and deliberate.

Just as you began to drift off, you felt something—a feather-light brush against your forehead. Too tired to open your eyes, you assumed it was nothing, just a fever-dream detail slipping through.

But Peter sat back quietly, his expression unreadable as he watched you settle deeper into sleep. His hand rested on the edge of the couch for a moment longer before he stood, adjusting the light in the room to something softer.

For now, he would wait.

---

When you woke, you weren’t on the couch anymore. Instead, you were tucked into your bed, your blanket pulled up to your shoulders. The soft hum of an old humidifier filled the room, a faint stream of vapor rising from its spout.

You blinked groggily, your gaze settling on the chair near your bed. Peter was there, his jacket draped over the back of the chair and his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. He had a book open in his lap but wasn’t reading; his eyes were fixed on you.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, closing the book and setting it aside. “How do you feel?”

“Better,” you mumbled, still half-asleep. “Did you…?”

“Carry you to bed?” he finished, his lips curving into a faint smile. “You were out cold, Y/N. I didn’t think you’d make it to the bed.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you glanced down at the blanket. “You didn’t have to.”

Peter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You said that already. And I’m still ignoring it.”

You fiddled with the edge of the blanket, unsure of what to say. “Thanks,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, his voice low. “I wanted to.”

You glanced at him, your heart skipping a beat at the way his eyes softened when they met yours. He reached over, brushing a hand lightly across your forehead. His touch was warm, lingering just a second longer than necessary.

“Your fever’s down,” he murmured. “That’s good.”

You nodded, too shy to meet his gaze for long. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough,” he said lightly, leaning back in the chair. “Olivia called to check in. I told her you were still alive.”

You huffed out a quiet laugh. “She’ll probably tell everyone I’m being dramatic.”

“She might,” Peter said with a faint smirk. “But I’ll set the record straight. Tell them you were very brave.”

“Stop,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket up to your face to hide your smile.

Peter chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Fine. I’ll spare you the teasing. For now.”

You peeked over the blanket, catching his grin. “I didn’t know you were such a good nurse.”

“I’m full of surprises,” he said smoothly, standing up and stretching. “Do you need anything? More water? Tea?”

“No, I’m okay,” you said quickly, though your voice came out quieter than you intended.

Peter crossed his arms, studying you for a moment. Then, without a word, he stepped closer, adjusting the blanket around your shoulders. His hand brushed yours briefly, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Peter didn’t move right away. His hand rested lightly on the edge of the bed, and you could feel the weight of his presence. Finally, he straightened, his expression unreadable.

“Try to rest,” he said, his tone gentler than before. “I’ll be in the other room if you need me.”

“Wait,” you blurted, surprising yourself. When he turned back to you, eyebrows raised, you faltered. “I mean… you don’t have to stay in the other room. If you’re tired or something, you can… I don’t know, sit here? If you want?”

Peter’s lips twitched into a small smile, his gaze softening. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you said quickly, then immediately looked down, your cheeks burning. “I just… I don’t mind.”

He hesitated for only a moment before pulling the chair closer to the bed. “Alright,” he said simply, settling back into it. “If you insist.”

You relaxed a little, letting your eyes close again. Peter didn’t say anything else, and for a while, the only sounds in the room were the quiet hum of the humidifier and the soft rustle of pages as he reopened his book.

Before you drifted off, you felt the edge of the blanket shift slightly, as though he were tucking it in more securely. It was such a small gesture, but it left your heart fluttering in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

---

As you cleaned up your spreadsheet a knock on your office door drew your attention away from your computer.

“Someone’s here to see you. A… Peter?” Alyssa said.

You rolled your chair back a little before standing up, “Peter?” You repeated. “Oh—uh, yeah, send him in.”

Alyssa smiled and went back to the reception desk. You sat back down just as Peter knocked a few times on your open door before entering, a brown paper bag in his hand.

“Good afternoon,” he said smoothly, stepping inside like he owned the place. “Thought I’d stop by and see how my favorite accountant was doing.”

You blinked, immediately flustered. “Peter, what are you doing here?”

He held up the bag with a small smile. “I remembered you’re terrible about taking lunch breaks, so I thought I’d bring it to you.”

Your cheeks warmed as you glanced at the bag. “You didn’t have to do that. I was going to grab something later.”

“Were you, though?” Peter teased, pulling up a chair without asking. “Or were you planning to survive on coffee and determination?”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t wrong. “Okay, fine. But really, you didn’t need to go out of your way.”

“It wasn’t out of my way,” he replied, leaning back casually. “Besides, I wanted to.”

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Peter always had this way of saying things that left you completely off balance. “Well… thanks,” you mumbled, reaching for the bag.

“You’re welcome,” he said, his tone softer now. “It’s just a sandwich and some soup, but I figured it’d hold you over.”

You opened the bag, the warm aroma of tomato soup wafting out. “This is… really nice of you.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Peter said with a faint smirk. “I can be nice.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” you replied quickly, glancing up at him. “It’s just… unexpected.”

Peter tilted his head, studying you with an unreadable expression. “I like surprising you.”

Your stomach flipped at the way he said it, but before you could respond, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “So, how’s work?”

You shrugged, grateful for the change in topic. “Same as always. Spreadsheets, numbers, more spreadsheets.”

“Thrilling,” Peter teased, though his tone held genuine interest. “And Joshua? Has he been stopping by with sandwiches too?”

You froze, your spoon hovering over the soup container. “What? No. Why would he?”

Peter shrugged, his eyes glinting with something you couldn’t quite place. “Just curious. Thought maybe he was trying to impress you.”

“Well, he’s not,” you said quickly, though your cheeks felt like they were on fire. “We’ve only gone out a couple of times. It’s not that serious.”

“Good to know,” Peter said smoothly, sitting back in his chair.

You frowned, glancing at him. “Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t,” he said lightly, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just making conversation.”

You hesitated, searching his expression for some kind of clue, but he was impossible to read. “Okay,” you said finally, turning your attention back to your soup.

Peter watched you for a moment longer before standing. “I’ll let you get back to it. But if you need another delivery, you know where to find me.”

You glanced up, surprised by the sudden shift. “You’re leaving already?”

He smiled faintly. “For now. But I’ll see you soon.”

Before you could respond, he was already heading for the door. You stared after him, the warmth of his gesture lingering even as his presence left the room.

Peter paused in the doorway, glancing back over his shoulder. “Don’t skip lunch tomorrow, Y/N.”

“I won’t,” you promised, though your voice was softer than you intended.

His smile widened slightly, and then he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the small, unexpected weight of his visit.

---

The Apollo Theatre foyer buzzed with excited chatter as you stood with Joshua, clutching your program and trying not to look overwhelmed. Olivia spotted you almost instantly, weaving through the crowd with her signature enthusiasm.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, wrapping you in a quick hug before turning to Joshua. “And look who’s with you. Hey Joshua. Ready for the show?”

Joshua smiled warmly, shaking her hand. “Always. How could I pass up an evening at the theatre?”

Olivia turned back to you, grinning. “Y/N, are you ready for this? I’ve heard Wicked is incredible. And you know how I feel about The Wizard of Oz.”

You laughed softly. “You’ve only mentioned it a thousand times.”

Before Olivia could retort, another familiar voice joined the conversation. “Quite the reunion, isn’t it?”

Your head snapped toward the source. Peter stood a few feet away, looking effortlessly composed as always. Beside him, Jade smiled politely, her golden hair catching the soft light of the foyer.

Joshua straightened, his expression slipping into something cooler. “Peter. Jade. Fancy seeing you here.”

Peter’s smile didn’t waver as he glanced at you. “Is it? I thought this was the hottest ticket in town. Wouldn’t miss it.”

Olivia’s eyes darted between the two men, her smirk growing. “Wow, all four of us together. How cozy.”

“Five,” Jade corrected with a light laugh. “Don’t forget me.”

“Right, of course,” Olivia said, her tone borderline teasing.

Joshua’s hand brushed lightly against your back. “Shall we find our seats, Y/N? I think intermission mingling will suffice for this particular group.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Actually, you’re all in our row. They’ve just started seating.”

Your heart sank slightly as Peter gestured toward the usher holding the door open. Of course you’d all end up sitting together—it was just your luck.

Joshua’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, but he maintained his composure. “Well, that’s convenient.”

Peter stepped forward, extending an arm toward you. “Shall we?”

Joshua opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Olivia interjected, her tone bright and amused. “Go ahead, Y/N. Peter knows the way better than any of us.”

You shot Olivia a quick glare, but Peter was already waiting, his arm still offered. Hesitantly, you placed your hand on his sleeve, letting him guide you toward the theatre. Joshua followed close behind, his expression unreadable.

---

The row was, unsurprisingly, a bit of a squeeze. Olivia sat on the far end, with Joshua next to her. You were in the middle, flanked by Peter on your left and Jade on his other side.

“This is… cozy,” Olivia quipped as everyone settled into their seats.

“Intimate, even,” Peter added smoothly, his gaze sliding to you. “How are you finding your evening so far, Y/N?”

“It’s nice,” you said quickly, fidgeting with your program. “I’m excited for the show.”

“As you should be,” Peter replied, leaning closer. “It’s a masterpiece. Though, I’ll admit, some moments can be quite… emotional.”

“Good thing I brought tissues,” Olivia teased from the other end.

Joshua cleared his throat, drawing your attention. “Are you familiar with the music, Y/N? I could hum a few bars if you need a preview.”

You laughed softly, trying to ease the growing tension. “I think I’ll manage, thanks.”

Peter’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Careful, Joshua. You wouldn’t want to spoil the magic.”

Jade glanced between the two men, her smile polite but strained. “Isn’t it wonderful how theatre brings everyone together?”

“Truly,” Peter said, his tone light but sharp enough to earn a glance from Joshua.

Before the exchange could escalate, the lights dimmed, and the orchestra began its overture. You turned your attention to the stage, grateful for the distraction.

---

Throughout the performance, you couldn’t help but feel hyper-aware of Peter. His arm rested lightly on the shared armrest, close enough that your elbows brushed once or twice. Each time, you shifted slightly, but he didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps he did and simply didn’t care.

Joshua, meanwhile, leaned in occasionally to whisper something about the show. His commentary was kind and thoughtful, but your responses were distracted, your focus tugged toward the man on your other side.

When intermission arrived, Olivia stood immediately. “Drinks, anyone? I could use something fizzy.”

“I’ll come with you,” Jade said quickly, standing and smoothing her dress.

Joshua glanced at you. “Want to stretch your legs, Y/N?”

Before you could answer, Peter turned toward you, his expression casual but intent. “Or we could stay and chat. The lobby will be packed.”

Joshua’s jaw tightened, but he managed a smile. “It’s up to you.”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of both their gazes. “I think I’ll stay,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joshua nodded stiffly. “Alright. I’ll grab you a drink, then.”

As he and the others filed out, Peter leaned back in his seat, his posture relaxed. “Interesting choice.”

You turned toward him, fidgeting slightly with the program in your lap. “What is?”

“Staying behind,” he said lightly, his gaze steady but unintrusive. “I thought you might want a break from all this.” He gestured toward the crowded theatre.

You shrugged, unsure how to respond. “I don’t mind staying. It’s quieter now.”

Peter’s lips quirked into a small smile. “True. Quieter can be nice sometimes.”

You nodded, clutching the program tighter. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy in a way that made your chest feel tight.

“You’re enjoying the show, I hope?” Peter asked after a moment, his tone light.

“Yeah, it’s amazing,” you said quickly, grateful for the neutral topic. “The cast is incredible.”

“It’s a masterpiece,” Peter agreed. “I remember the first time I saw it. Defying Gravity gave me chills.”

You smiled faintly. “It’s definitely the kind of show that sticks with you.”

He studied you for a moment, then leaned a bit closer, resting his arm on the shared armrest. “You know, I’ve always admired your taste in music.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What? Why?”

Peter shrugged casually, though there was a glimmer of something deeper in his eyes. “You’ve got a good ear. You appreciate the details most people miss.”

Your cheeks grew warm under his gaze. “I don’t know about that. I just… like what I like.”

“That’s what makes it genuine,” he said simply. “You don’t pretend to like things just because it’s expected. It’s refreshing.”

You glanced down, fiddling with the corner of the program. “I guess I’ve never thought about it that way.”

He chuckled softly, his voice warm. “That’s what makes it true.”

You dared to look up at him again, finding his expression unusually soft. “You’re being… really nice today.”

“Am I not usually nice?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

“No, you are,” you said quickly, stumbling over your words. “It’s just… different.”

Peter tilted his head, his smile growing. “Maybe I’m just trying to put you at ease. You always seem a little… on edge around me.”

“I’m not,” you protested, though your voice lacked conviction.

“You are,” he countered gently. “But I’m glad you stayed. It’s nice talking like this.”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. Finally, you muttered, “Yeah, it is.”

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, and he leaned back into his seat, his hand resting on the armrest just a little closer to yours. “Do you remember the first play we went to? At my father’s estate? You must’ve been—what? Eleven? Twelve?”

You smiled faintly at the memory. “It was A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Olivia made me go with her.”

Peter chuckled. “And you spent the entire first act whispering that you didn’t understand why people thought Shakespeare was funny.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Please don’t remind me. I was such a pain back then.”

“You weren’t,” he said softly, his tone sincere. “You were curious. That’s what made it endearing.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, your voice muffled. “Endearing?”

“Very,” he said with a small grin.

Before you could respond, the others began filtering back into the row. Joshua handed you a drink with a polite smile, his eyes flicking briefly to Peter. “Hope I got the right one.”

“Perfect,” you said quickly, taking the glass and shifting slightly in your seat.

Peter leaned back, his expression unreadable, but his gaze lingered on you for just a moment longer before he turned his attention to the stage.

As the lights dimmed and the show resumed, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Peter’s presence beside you. It was magnetic, grounding in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

And as the music swelled, you found yourself wondering if staying behind had been the right choice—or if it had only complicated things even more.

---

It was nerve-wracking going on dates with Joshua, but meeting his parents? That felt like a completely different level of stress. Lord Beckett’s estate was sprawling, the kind of place you’d only seen in magazines, and the garden party looked like something out of a period drama.

“Relax,” Joshua said, offering you his arm as you both approached the grand lawn. “They’re going to love you. And even if they don’t, they’re far too proper to say anything about it.”

“That’s… oddly comforting,” you muttered, glancing nervously at the clusters of guests sipping champagne and chatting under the shade of elegant white umbrellas.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, his tone warm. “Just smile and let me do the talking.”

You managed a small nod, though your stomach twisted with nerves.

Joshua led you toward a group near the center of the lawn, where Lord Beckett stood in a sharp navy suit, his posture as upright as his title implied. His wife, Lady Beckett, was beside him, her features poised and polite.

“Ah, Joshua,” Lord Beckett said, his deep voice carrying over the hum of conversation. His sharp eyes flicked to you. “And this must be… Y/N, is it?”

“Yes, sir,” you said softly, offering a polite smile.

“Welcome,” Lady Beckett said, her tone more cordial than warm. “It’s lovely to meet you. Joshua’s spoken highly of you.”

You blinked, glancing at Joshua, who grinned. “What can I say? She’s easy to talk about.”

Lady Beckett’s smile widened just a fraction. “How charming.”

Before the conversation could go much further, another familiar voice cut in.

“Lord Beckett,” Peter said smoothly, stepping into the group with Jade on his arm. “Always a pleasure.”

Your breath caught, and you instinctively looked away, focusing intently on the glass in your hand.

“Peter Lyman,” Lord Beckett greeted, his tone polite but measured. “You’ve been making quite the rounds lately.”

Peter chuckled. “What can I say? It’s hard to resist a good garden party.” His gaze flicked to you briefly, his smile unwavering. “Y/N. Fancy seeing you here.”

Jade added with a light laugh, “it’s practically a reunion, isn’t it? How lovely.”

Joshua’s arm tensed slightly under your hand, but he kept his tone pleasant. “Peter, Jade. Enjoying the season?”

“Absolutely,” Peter replied, his tone smooth as silk. “And you? Busy keeping Y/N entertained, I assume?”

Joshua’s smile tightened just enough for you to notice. “She’s been wonderful company. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You nodded quickly, feeling the weight of everyone’s gaze. “Yes. Very.”

Peter’s lips quirked, his expression unreadable. “Good to hear.”

Jade broke the tension with a bright laugh, linking her arm with Peter’s. “Peter’s always said these events are better with good company. Haven’t you, darling?”

“Something like that,” Peter said lightly, though his eyes flicked back to you briefly.

“Shall we, Y/N?” Joshua asked suddenly, his tone smooth but insistent. “I’d love to show you the south gardens. They’re a bit quieter.”

You nodded, eager for an escape. “Of course.”

As Joshua guided you away, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder. Peter’s gaze was still on you, his expression calm but intent, as if he was waiting for something you weren’t sure you could give.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Joshua said quietly as you walked, his voice low but firm.

“What?” you asked, startled.

“Lyman,” Joshua clarified, glancing at you. “He likes to play games. Don’t let him pull you into one.”

You frowned, unsure of how to respond. “I don’t think he—”

“He does,” Joshua interrupted gently but firmly. “Trust me.”

You didn’t answer, but your thoughts were a storm of doubt and confusion as you followed Joshua toward the gardens.

---

The south gardens were quieter, with fewer guests and a small fountain bubbling in the center. Joshua stopped beside it, turning to face you fully.

“You’re tense,” he said softly.

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, though your voice wavered.

Joshua studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “Y/N… if this is too much, you don’t have to stay.”

“No, it’s okay,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I just—this isn’t really my scene, you know? But I’ll manage.”

He nodded, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I know it’s not easy. But you’re handling it well.”

“Thanks,” you said, though your thoughts were still elsewhere.

Joshua’s gaze flicked past you for a moment, and his expression shifted, growing cooler. You turned to see Peter approaching, his stride measured and confident.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” Peter said smoothly, stopping a few paces away.

“Actually—” Joshua started, but Peter cut him off.

“Y/N,” Peter said, his tone softer as his gaze settled on you. “Do you have a moment?”

Joshua’s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone even. “We were just about to head back, actually.”

Peter ignored him, his eyes still on you. “Just a moment, Y/N. That’s all I need.”

You hesitated, glancing between them. Joshua’s expression was calm but tense, while Peter’s was unreadable, his usual charm tempered by something more serious.

“Go ahead,” Joshua said finally, his voice tight. “I’ll wait here.”

You nodded slowly, stepping toward Peter. “What is it?”

Peter waited until you were out of earshot before speaking, his voice low. “You don’t have to stay with him, you know.”

“What?” you asked, frowning.

“I mean it,” he said, his tone soft but firm. “If you’re not happy, you don’t have to keep pretending.”

“I’m not pretending,” you said quickly, though your voice sounded unconvincing even to your own ears.

Peter’s eyes searched yours, his expression softening. “You are. And you’re not very good at it.”

Your chest tightened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to argue.

“I know this is all… complicated,” Peter continued, his voice gentler now. “But I can’t stand watching you with him, knowing you’re not where you want to be.”

“Peter,” you started, but he shook his head.

“Just think about it, Y/N,” he said quietly. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Before you could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind spinning.

---

Later, while you sipped your glass of champagne and held a small plate with a scone, Joshua leaned down, his voice low and warm. “I’m going to say hello to the Westford’s,” he said, pressing a light kiss to your cheek before walking away.

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat as you glanced around, hoping no one had noticed. It felt like such a public display, something you weren’t used to, especially with so many watchful eyes at a gathering like this.

Unfortunately, someone had noticed.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Peter standing with Jade near the edge of the garden. His expression was calm, but there was a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. And then, with deliberate ease, Peter turned toward Jade, leaning down to whisper something in her ear.

Jade laughed softly, tilting her head up to him.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t a quick, polite kiss, either. It was slow, deliberate—enough to catch the attention of more than a few nearby guests.

Your stomach twisted as you froze, your fingers tightening around your glass. For a moment, you considered looking away, but your gaze betrayed you, snapping back to Peter.

And that’s when he looked at you.

Even as he kissed Jade, his eyes met yours, holding your gaze with an intensity that sent a chill down your spine. It wasn’t a glance; it was deliberate, calculated.

You felt your chest tighten, heat rising to your face. Before you could process what had just happened, you set your plate and glass down on a nearby table and turned on your heel, heading toward the side of the lawn.

You found Joshua near the Westford’s, laughing at something Lord Westford had said. He glanced up as you approached, his expression softening. “Y/N, are you alright?”

“I’m not feeling well,” you said quickly, your voice tight. “I think I’m going to head out.”

Joshua frowned, stepping closer. “What’s wrong? Do you want me to call for a car?”

“No, it’s fine,” you replied, shaking your head. “I’ll grab a cab. I just need to go.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed, his brow furrowing.

“I’m sure,” you said, your tone firmer this time. “Thank you for the invitation. It was… lovely.”

Joshua hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded. “Alright. Just let me know when you’re home, okay?”

“I will,” you promised, already turning to leave.

You made your way out of the estate, barely registering the elegant gardens or the soft chatter of the guests. Your chest felt tight, and your thoughts were a jumbled mess as you flagged down a cab and climbed inside.

---

By the time you arrived at Olivia’s apartment, your head was spinning. You fumbled with the spare key she’d given you, finally unlocking the door and stepping inside.

“Y/N?” Olivia called from the couch, her voice muffled by the blanket draped over her. She sat up, a bowl of popcorn in her lap. “What are you doing here? I thought you were at Lord Beckett’s thing.”

You dropped your purse on the nearest chair, your hands trembling slightly. “I was. I just… I couldn’t stay.”

Olivia’s eyes narrowed as she set the popcorn aside and stood, crossing the room in a few quick strides. “Okay, spill. What happened?”

You hesitated, your throat tightening. “Peter happened,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Olivia blinked, then sighed, crossing her arms. “What did he do this time?”

You sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. “He kissed Jade. Right in front of everyone. And then he… he looked at me.”

“What?” Olivia asked, her tone sharp. She sat down beside you, her hand resting on your arm. “Are you serious?”

You nodded, unable to keep back your sobs any longer. “I don’t know what he’s trying to do, Liv. One minute he’s nice, the next he’s… playing games. I can’t keep up.”

Olivia frowned, scooting closer and pulling you into a hug. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

You leaned into her, your face pressed against her shoulder. “It’s just… he said something to me before he kissed her.”

She pulled back slightly, her hands still on your arms. “What did he say?”

Your voice wavered as you tried to explain. “He said… he couldn’t stand seeing me with Joshua. That I wasn’t where I wanted to be. And then—then he just… walked away. And not even ten minutes later, he’s kissing Jade like it’s nothing.”

Olivia exhaled sharply, pulling you back into her arms. “Oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry. That’s so… Ugh, I don’t even know what to say.”

You sniffled, your hands clutching the fabric of her sweater. “Why would he say something like that if he didn’t mean it? And then do the exact opposite? It’s like he’s trying to mess with me.”

She rubbed your back gently, her voice soft. “I know it feels like that. But right now, you don’t need to make sense of it. You’ve had a hell of a day. Let’s just… focus on getting you through this moment, okay?”

You nodded weakly, wiping at your eyes. “I feel so stupid, Liv. I shouldn’t even care, but I do. I always have.”

“You’re not stupid,” Olivia said firmly, pulling back enough to look you in the eye. “You’ve had feelings for him forever. This isn’t something you can just turn off.”

You didn’t respond, your chest still tight as you struggled to catch your breath.

“Alright,” Olivia said after a moment, her tone more practical. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re staying here tonight. I’ll make us some tea, and we’ll find something mindless to watch on TV. No more thinking about Peter, Jade, or Joshua. Deal?”

You hesitated, but the thought of not dealing with any of it, even for a little while, was too tempting to resist. “Deal.”

“Good,” Olivia said, standing and giving you a small smile. “Stay put. I’ll grab the tea.”

As she headed to the kitchen, you curled up on the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around you. Your thoughts were still spinning, but Olivia’s presence was grounding, her no-nonsense approach exactly what you needed.

When she returned with two steaming mugs, she set one down in front of you and plopped onto the couch with the other. “Alright, your choice: rom-coms or reality TV?”

You hesitated, then managed a small smile. “Rom-coms. Something ridiculous.”

Olivia grinned, grabbing the remote. “You’ve got it.”

As the opening credits of some over-the-top romantic comedy filled the screen, you leaned back into the cushions, trying to let the chaos of the day fade into the background. Olivia reached over, giving your hand a quick squeeze before settling in beside you.

“Hey,” she said quietly. “Whatever happens, you’ll figure it out. You always do.”

You nodded, your voice too shaky to respond. For now, you let yourself focus on the warmth of the tea in your hands and the comfort of Olivia’s shoulder against yours. It wasn’t a solution, but it was enough for the moment.

⁠♡ part 2 ♡

[jurassicshields]

Roxie and Dave(Chaos Theory)

After the events of Camp Cretaceous, Roxie went back to study at a University in England while Dave went home and started a small business selling whatever he would sell(I don't know what Dave would sell?). When dinosaurs began to move into the mainland, both of them got involved with the DPW and Roxie moved to the States for an internship, where she met back up with Dave and they became work partners based on their past experience with the animals. They mainly were sent on the more risky reports, typically removing dinosaurs from long hiking trails and places way back in the county.

When Brooklyn died, they were allowed to take a break from the DPW for however long and spent a lot of time with the remaining campers. After a couple of months, the two returned to work, but Dave ended up quitting a few weeks later. Now Roxie is finishing up her internship and Dave is searching for something new to do that doesn't involve dinosaurs.

-After Brooklyn died, Dave and Roxie dyed their hair pink like Sammy did.

-They both wear old Jurassic World pins they got while counselors

-While Dave always wears an orange bandanna, Roxie has begun to wear a similar one in her hair for work.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Heres an idea what if ford and his infant baby BOTH got sucked into the portal? How would ford cope with jumping across the multiverse while trying to raise his child?

I’m going to assume the reader is the baby, so this fic is obviously platonic from here on out.

The man gets grey stress hairs at like 23/25 (no clue how old he is when he got sucked into the portal but I’m going to assume for this)

Ford didn’t mind if it was just him that got pulled into the multiverse, he would’ve found a way to handle it but being in a multiverse full of potential dangers with you, his child? The man is doing everything he can to set you up to survive and one day escape the multiverse and go home, regardless if it’s with or without him.

Ford is putting you first and foremost as you were the future, his legacy and his protege.

It was a daunting task to not only try and survive the multiverse but also dedicate time to raising his own kid, it was taxing on both an emotional and physical level for Ford as he made sure you were kept warm and well fed as possible while leaning himself with little to nothing, but he didn’t mind because as long as you had everything you needed to grow and be strong, that’s all that matters to Ford.

You grew up traveling with bandits, learning to speak 13 languages, read ancient texts, become royalty when Ford was king of the finger dimension for a brief period of time, only for a seven fingered man to take the crown and becoming a wanted criminal in multiple dimensions before you were even twelve. Your childhood was far from a normal one as your memories of home were mainly from stories Ford told you about at night when you were both sat near the fire.

It saddened Ford to know that you viewed home a lot differently than you did the multiverse but he couldn’t blame you. You had near enough spent most of your developmental years running from dimension to dimension, aiding rebellions and surviving say to say that if you both were to ever get home, Ford knew you’d be out of your element as all you’ve ever known was the multiverse and him.

This thought occurred to Ford on many occasions that he blames himself for ever letting you get dragged into this mess because if you didn’t then maybe you could’ve grown up with Stanley and lived a perfectly normal life. You were robbed of a childhood you could look back on in fondness and Ford couldn’t help but believe himself to be the cause as he stays up to watch over you, seeing his child mentally grow up faster then you should be allowed for your age broke his aging heart.

Would you be ridiculed for being weird if you were to ever go home much like he was as a kid? If so then he’d much rather stay in the multiverse for your sake rather than his own.

You had been through a lot and seen more then a child your age should and while Ford will forever be proud of the person you had become. His only wish was that you got to at least experience a portion of your life back home before all this, just so that you didn’t look at everything so weirdly and so alien.

Ford knew that sometimes there will be moments where there’s a disconnect between you two, something he had to accept that as the truth instead of trying to logically fix it, and instead try to meet you halfway in a comforting manner when you start to think that you were too weird for home as you sat on the rooftop of the shack.

‘Won’t Mabel and dipper find me…odd?’ You asked.

‘No of course not sweetheart, they love you and see you as their cool older relative they can trust to keep them safe and happy and seen.’ Ford reassured you with a pat on the shoulder before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. ‘You’ll be loved, so loved my little sharpshooter. I promise.’ He adds as he sees you yawn and instinctively brought you into his side, once again watching over you as you slept peacefully for the first time in a long while.

While Ford hated that you had practically been raised in the multiverse but he couldn’t help but be proud of who you’ve become when you pointed out a flaw in his plans for the quantum destabiliser weapon that he had overlooked. You were going to be okay, Ford knew it.

[confettiibunny]

bf!leon hcs ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

note :: mentions of sex twice, straight silliness and not meant to be taken seriously !! I just goobered around for 800 something words. Also I personally thought of di!leon bcs I love that old man 😈

──── ୨୧ ──── ₊⊹ ──── ୨୧ ────

⭑.ᐟ Loves to give you hugs from behind, warm breath tickling your neck as his hands are splayed on your tummy. Feeling his stubble graze upon your skin, calloused palms slipping under your shirt to feel you. Almost on instinct the two of you start to sway, rocking back and forth and back and forth. "Prettiest girl I've ever seen, mhm. As cute as a button." No matter how long you've been attached to the hip with Leon his voice always makes you a mess, the low timbre of it tickling your ear and sends a little shudder down your spine. And he knows this and takes this moment to tease you, lips against the shell of your ear as he whispers sweet nothings and his hands slowly but surely creeping upwards to your chest. But it's not long until honeyed words turn to desperate kisses and gentle touches turn to needy. Forgive him, really, he's just a man and man has his needs. And as he scoops you up and carries you off to the nearest flat surface, it's not like he won't satisfy your needs too.

ᝰ.ᐟ Gives the best piggyback rides. No, actually please do this with him; he'll try not to act like crazy at first but deep down it makes him so happy you have no idea. Who is he to pass up the chance to have you clinging to him with your arms around his neck and legs on his hips? It's so cute to him when he starts to run around the apartment, laughing as your shrieks and yelps fill the air. Yeah, you might be choking him a little with your arms but it's okay! Nothing beats hearing you struggle for air after laughing your ass off and feeling you lift his bangs up to lay sloppy kisses on his forehead.

⭑.ᐟ Plays with your hair as you guys cuddle. Mainly just a lot of petting, like you're a cat of some sort. Gets on your ass about it sometimes and playfully scolds you when you practically push your head into his chest to get him to touch your hair. It's soothing for both parties, laying you down atop his body and working his fingers into your strands to massage your head. Your blissed-out expression is enough for him, he’s do anything to keep it in his memory for life. Yes, playing with your hair was a must. Unless you just washed it. The hair stays untouched then. But on the days before you rewash your hair, you let him mess around with it as you're sprawled on top of him. Leon also does his best to undoes any knots he makes during sex and he's so attentive with it. Keen eyes do wonders for a tender-headed girl, propping your spent body in his lap as he carefully works out any tangles. Thinks your hair is so pretty and dotes on it, never letting you feel negative about it.

ᝰ.ᐟ Cat dad. Hates dogs, but that's not a shocker. But also, he doesn't actually adopt a cat. Instead, he constantly comes home and whips out a stray kitten from his coat, holding the little critter in the palm of his hand. Makes you a cat mom (with your permission), and does his hardest to make sure the kitten is healthy. His favorite part of the process is when he sits on the couch and lays the little thing on his chest, giving it the lightest rubs as it curls up into a ball. You snag a lot of photos of these moments and save every single one, documenting every single cat he helps. You'll also use these pics to prove the fact he has some fat tits but for now, you'll let him have this wholesome moment with his strays.

⭑.ᐟ Not a single nonchalant bone in his body anymore. Yeah no, he grew out of that after nearly fucking dying more times than he can count on his fingers. That's partly your doings since being nonchalant doesn't exist in your vocabulary either. Besides, Leon's got a girlfriend sweeter than honey on cream. Who the hell is acting nonchalant with you? He is a true romantic at heart and while sometimes there’s a struggle to show it, the effort is there. Always expect good morning hugs, goodbye kisses, nighttime cuddles, weekend love-making, holiday fucking, literally anything and everything. He'll be a dead man before he stops worrying about the world so he'll love you like it's his last. Kisses you like he'll never kiss you again; a hand at the back of your head as his lips feverishly crash against yours. It's sloppy and loud with teeth and tongue, but he could care less. Go ahead, drool all over him if you want. He'll just wipe it off and just go in for another.

[prentissluvr]

OKAY HERE ARE SOME SAM THOUGHTS BEFORE I CLEAN MY ROOM (some platonic but mostly romantic)

loves getting his hair played with (romantically and platonically)

main love language is quality time

could have this giant on his knees if you compliment constantly (his looks or his personality) (mainly his personality) (he knows and is aware of how conventionally attractive he is but isn’t cocky about it) (like another winchester LOL)

runs warmer than the average human being so he’s your personal heater in the winter

but in the summer you make sure he stays far away from you bc man sweats A LOT in his sleep 😭😭

I HAVE MORE BUT I GOTTA CLEAN MY ROOM

ILL BE BACK LATER WITH DEAN AND MORE SAM 🤭🤭

djhJHFSKDJ SAMMMMM AAA okay okay bear with me while i go absolutely insane LMAO. like this is long LOL so i am gonna add a cw for anyone who stumbles upon our time of feeding each others delusions <3 i got carried away ahahahaha hehehehehe i'm normal about him tho!

wc: 1.6K. cw: kissing, a bit of swearing, brief mention of things trying to kill you bc that's the life lol, unedited

⟢ playing with his hair : do NOT get me started on sam's hair <3 it's always so pretty, and you have to make that known! sure, you do it out loud, but we'll get to the complimenting in a bit hehe. your favorite way of making it known (and definitely his) is by playing with it. constantly. and he can never get enough. sure, he gets embarrassed or picky about it around dean, like he does with just about anything romantic or sweet (mostly because dean won't ever let that sort of thing go un-teased). but he just loves so much to lay his head in your lap and let you thread your fingers through that pretty brown hair <33 it makes him feel so relaxed, and cared for in a way that doesn't feel overbearing or overly obvious.

and he loves it especially it because he knows that you do. he can feel you physically relax from under him when you sweetly run your hands through his hair, gently pulling apart any small knots and taking your time to take care of that gorgeous head of hair. he will also certainly melt and try to hide the pink tint to his cheeks when you reach for his hair unexpectedly, like when you lean in to fix a fly-away strand or full on card your hands through his hair when he's in the middle of research and didn't notice you approach.

also!! put your hands in his hair when he's kissing you!!! please!!! he's begging on his knees!!! god, he loves that so so much and he gets a secret ego boost because, once again, he can physically feel how much you love it too. he'll always kiss you harder when your hands move to tangle themselves in his hair.

gets embarrassed if you put little braids in his hair, especially as he grows older and it grows longer, but he can't resist how much it makes you smile, so he lets you get away with it if dean isn't around. and just imagine putting pretty clips in his hair LOL he pouts and asks you to take them out immediately, but not before kissing the smug grin off of your lips. will die and try his hardest to delete them if you ever get pictures of him like that, but you keep your blackmail well protected hehe.

as for platonically, that is facts! he thinks its very sweet if you're his best friend or sibling! it's not as big a thing as it would be in a romantic relationship, but he'll love to have his hair played with by anyone willing <33

⟢ love language; quality time : this is like almost sad and especially sweet at the same time because the poor boy has no time to spend much quality time with you. but again, this kind of makes this whole thing sweeter because that means each moment is just that much more precious. obviously, he'd love to be spending quality time with you by going on dates in the park, taking you to a nice restaurant that's not too stuffy, or something even as simple as taking you to the movies. but those things are hard to do, so to him, any time spent with you without the presence of something trying to kill you can be turned into that precious quality time.

for him, it's about sitting on the couch with your legs strewn over him or his head on your lap or yours on his shoulder (really any sort of thing keeping him connected to you) as you pour over lore books. it's about the seamless exchange when the two of you figure out how to kill your monster or save the world together. it's about posing as fbi to get answers and slipping his hand into yours when no one's looking or grabbing a decent breakfast together before the start of a busy day. all he cares about, the things he treasures, are you falling asleep on him in the back of the impala because he gave up shotgun to sit next to you, taking months, maybe longer to get through one season of a tv show together, and always taking even just a small moment out of a busy day to be together.

⟢ complimenting him : it's true that he needs less assurance about his looks because he certainly is aware that he is fine as fuck. but let's definitely establish that he adores to hear praise about his looks specifically from you because duh! he's in love with you and you're the only one he cares about!!

but yeah, when you compliment his personality, his sweet, loving, courageous hot sometimes completely idiotic and frustrating self?? oh he's done for. he's honestly far less used to that. when you're half asleep, and you murmur into his chest that you think he's so smart, kind, funny, loving, and brave and that you couldn't be more proud to be his? he's complete mush in your arms, he can't believe it.

"that's all you, baby," he'll refute, and you'll certainly grow bashful under his compliment, but you want him to accept it, at least a little bit. "i mean it, sammy, i really do." your voice is all soft and sleepy, and oh so earnest that he can't help the aching of his heart. "i know you do," he'll whisper, suddenly emotional and not wanting you to hear it. "i'm just glad you think so. i'll always do my best to be those things for you," and that's the kind of thing he only admits when the sole light in the room comes from a dim, clouded over moon and your head is tucked under his chin so you can't see his face. he means it, of course, but he's not used to such vulnerability and blatant adoration.

he'll clench his jaw when you tell him you know that, but that it's true that he's all those things and more for so many people, the few close ones, and all the ones he passes by and does his best to save. he doesn't fully believe you, he's got a lot of guilt built up in that sweet mind of his. and it's true he's not perfect, but you never said that. all you're trying to tell him is that you love who he is, so much, and he can never thank you enough for that.

bonus, he really really loves when you tell him you think he's funny. it's definitely an ego booster, plus he loves loves loves to know that he can always make you smile and laugh.

⟢ your personal heater : this is literally sooo true. he's so big with so much body mass that he'd have so much body heat to give off. but i so agree that on top of that, he'd also totally be on the warmer side. if you're naturally warm as well, then you two are an unstoppable force in the winter time (the both of you are lulled to sleep by the other's body heat in a matter of minutes). either way, he'll always envelope you in hugs when it gets cold because he knows it'll warm you up right away. he doesn't have to ask to know when you're cold, because you'll always press yourself to him, maybe grabbing his arm and pulling it around yourself before even saying a thing to him.

"you cold?" he'll ask sweetly, and after feeling your nod and hearing your muffled "mhmm," he's quick to wrap his other arm around you too and pull you closer.

for the folks with cold hands like me, he's always trying to warm them up with his own. whether you've slipped your hand in to his just to be near and they're particularly chilly, or he can see you trying to warm your hands up yourself, he's quick to take up both of your hands in his to warm them up. when he grabs up both of your hands, he'll pull them to his chest and hold them there until he's satisfied they're warm. he'll look into your eyes and talk about something completely unrelated, all casual as if he's not making you flustered. other times, he'll warm up one hand at a time, encasing it in both of his own, rubbing it and blowing warm air on it before gently slipping it into his warm, warm pockets and moving on to the other.

also, if he finds out your face is cold, he'll cup your cheeks with his large, furnace hands or full on just pull your face into his head or neck to warm you up that way.

but yeah😭😭 summer can be a lot less pleasant. if you manage to have cold hands even in the summer (i could never i wish), he'll try to steal the coolness from your hands and you'll be like oh my god please stop i'll die LOL.

and you're like nooo babe of course i want to sleep with you, you just have to stay as far away as possible and never touch me because it might burn me to death. if he's tired and touch-starved younger sam will pout at you and tell you he just wants to cuddle. later seasons sam just won't take no for an answer and will just pull you to him until he gets too hot himself lmao. he'll make sure there's a fan on you first and a glass of ice water on your bedside. basically he loves that he's warm in the winter because it brings you closer to him, then gets pissed about it in the summer because you don't want him too close unless there's sufficient a/c or some other form of ventilation to make it cooler lol.

[ariasakka]

Toshinori Yagi in bed 18+

600 words.

All Toshinori work by me is under hashtag AriaToshinori

What would Toshinori be like in bed? Here’s what I think.

I feel like Toshinori would have a praise kink. Not necessarily receiving but giving. He would want to do anything he can to get the sweet reward of hearing his partner moan and watch their eyes roll back. He knows he’s a big guy and has a girthy member. He would prefer to love his partner slowly not to cause them unnecessary pain. Enjoying every sweet moment and feeling of their body.

If Toshinori’s partner could handle his member and wanted him to be rougher he would speed up the pace but only if they begged him for it over and over. He would do it to satisfy them but otherwise I think he would still prefer to take his time. He has a lot of stamina, I feel like he could last hours in the bedroom. Toshinori again loves taking his time and being slow he would love each session to be about an hour or so long. He would find delight in overstimulating his partner with pleasure and edging them occasionally but he would stop if it got too much. He would want to make them cum over and over again in any way he could. It’s enough to satisfy him he doesn’t feel like he needs to cum to have a good time. He only needs you to finish. But if he does get there and is able to cum he’s not against that either.

Toshi would probably grunt a lot while cumming mainly because he’s trying his hardest not to pound into you too deeply or roughly and because he spent so much time toying with you by the time he gets to cum his tip feels immensely overstimulated but he’s addicted to the sensation of it.

Toshinori dirty talk. Toshi would adore saying things like.

“It’s okay you can take it, you’re doing so well for me.”

“I know it’s a lot. It’ll feel good soon I promise. Let Toshi play with your pretty pussy I promise it’ll make it feel better.”

“You look so beautiful when you cum darling.”

“You taste like heaven. Please put your pretty hands in my hair. Guide me. Tell me what spots feel good. I won’t stop until you can’t finish anymore.”

“I love you so much baby, am I making you feel good? Not too much is it?”

“My fingers slid in so easily did my kisses really turn you on that much? Let me give you more then.”

He loves praising your body while he says these things as well. Leaving lots of kisses on your forehead and everywhere else. Loves running his fingers through your hair with one hand while you cum, holding your hips in place with the other. He never takes his eyes off you for a second while he’s toying with your body. He’s obsessed with his partner and thinks they are the most beautiful thing to ever exist.

He’s such a strong man but he loves being as gentle as he can with your body. He would definitely be afraid of spanking you, spitting on you, tying you up, any sort of rough kinky stuff like that. On the other hand he wouldn’t mind you tying him up if you got off to that. He prefers to be a soft dom/top but if he ended up being with a dominant woman who wanted to have her way with him he would submit. Even if she wanted to slap him and be rough. He knows you wouldn’t be able to do damage to his body because he’s so strong and fit. Your slaps would feel like slight pinches on his body. Not the feelings of the slaps but the look on your face while you did that and other things would get him off knowing that it was pleasing you to do so.

[withwritersblock]

More Hearts Than Mine-Her Father Comes to Visit

~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~ Author's Note: I adore this series with all my heart Summary: Her father visits Luke unexpectedly Warnings: None? Word Count: 1,692

It has been far too long since he has gotten his haircut, as he has been traveling tirelessly. He’s been everywhere but Jersey since April. It wasn’t his intention, it was pretty much how his summer plans ended up being.

But here he was standing in the bathroom staring at the nearly shaven sides of his hair. He was constantly battling with what haircut he preferred but he liked the way it looked right now. He was flying to Las Vegas tomorrow for the NHL Awards. He was mainly going to support Quinn, already holding the knowledge that he wasn’t going to win the Calder. Especially since Connor was going to win no matter who else was named a finalist. It was still could to feel recognized. 

He ran his hand across his chin, feeling small stray pieces of hair that he needed to trim off of his face. He sighed as he began to pull out the razor and his shaving cream. The doorbell rang as he furrowed his eyebrows harshly. 

He wasn’t expecting any company, neither was Y/N. She wasn’t even home. She was at work for another hour. He cautiously placed his razor back onto the bathroom counter before he cautiously walked through the pristine apartment. He had spent all morning cleaning before he went and got his hair chopped off.

He walked towards the door, hesitantly gazing through the peep hole to see Y/N’s father standing outside the door. He quickly pulled his head back, his eyes widening. Suddenly, he could hear his heartbeating rapidly as a wave of nausea flowed through his body. Pressing his lips together, he took a deep breath as he carefully pulled the door open.

Luke smiled a tight lip smile as he swallowed hard, “Y/N’s not here, she’s at work for another hour,” Luke choked out as he stepped to the side, opening the door a bit wider.

“Good, I came to see you,” he mumbled as he walked inside, without asking. Luke delicately shut the door behind her father as he nervously fiddled with the handle as he watched him look at every inch of the apartment he could see. “You didn’t add many decorations,” he observed.

Luke dropped his head as he took a small step towards the center of the apartment where he was standing. “I just had some photos that I framed,” Luke let out shyly, “And like clothes and stuff,” he continued, but he wasn’t sure why the words were leaving his lips. Her father nodded slowly as he continued looking around the apartment.

He took a few steps towards the new collection of photos of Luke and Y/N. He walked up to it, getting a good look of every single one.

The first one her father looked at was a mirror selfie. She held the phone, a wide genuine smile on her lips. He had a hold of her face, his hand held her chin and jaw in place as he passionately kissed her cheek.

The second one was a photo of Luke laying on her chest, his eyes looking up towards her, puppy dog like. She was smiling sleepily as she met his gaze. It was a FaceTime screenshot that her sister took while they were FaceTiming several months ago. The live photo of that moment is Luke’s lockscreen. Every time he misses her he looks down towards his phone and holds his thumb down against the screen and watches the short four second moment.

The third photo was a photo of Y/N and Luke standing beside one another holding the overflowing vases of roses. Luke was smiling a genuine wide toothy grin as she was crying tears of joy. She’s spent their whole time together admiring those roses, but seeing them bunch together had her sobbing.

The fourth and final photo was a photo of them together after Luke’s final game as a rookie. They didn’t win the game but Luke still had a wide smile on his lips as he looked down towards her. His hand was low on her waist as she was pulled tightly towards him.

“She smiles a lot around you,” her father let out finally after what felt like many unbearably long seconds. “It’s been years since I’ve seen her smile like that.” He soon spun around to meet Luke’s gaze, unsure of what to say next he points towards the couch. Luke nods as the pair awkwardly sits on the opposite ends of the couch.

“I’m stubborn,” her father continued, he took a deep breath as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You two living together is like I’m losing my daughter. I mean clearly I’ve already lost her long time ago if I can’t remember the last time she’s smiled like that,” He said as he pointed towards the photos on the wall besides the TV. 

Luke chewed his lip for a moment before he sat up straighter as he rested his hands onto his knees. “Y/N’s my first girlfriend. I was always so focused on hockey and trying to beat the best that I never wanted a relationship. But then I met Y/N and I will swear by this until forever that the world literally got brighter when she smiled at me,” he expressed, a soft chuckle leaving his throat. 

Her father laughed as a smile formed to his lips, “I said that in my vows,” his father let out shocked at his own words.

“Actually?” Luke forced out. Her father nodded as he took in a sharp breath. Luke tilted his head back as he clenched his jaw nervously. “I’m terrified that us living together has ruined your relationship with Y/N. I know how important it is to her that you like her boyfriends.”

“You’re the first one that’s made her happy. I knew that the second I saw you two walk into my house. I liked you from that moment. I don’t like that you’re a professional athlete, but I see that for eighty-two games you kept your promise that you told my daughter at the beginning of the season,” her father said as he pointed towards the vases of flowers. 

“She told you about that?” Luke asked. Her father nodded.

“I needed time to mourn that my daughter isn’t a little girl anymore. She’s happy and in love and I can’t stop that. I can’t stop her from growing up. So I got mad, I do that sometimes, I got mad at you guys. But you make her happy so I can’t be mad anymore. Which is why I needed to talk to you first,” her father expressed. He slowly stood up from the couch, holding out his hand. Luke quickly followed in pursuit as he shook her father’s hand. 

The apartment door was pushed open as an excited Y/N walked inside, “Lukey Love, I got done with work early, so I brought you some-” she stopped short as she rested the two pizza boxes on the counter, “Dad?” she asked softly. 

“Hey sweetheart, why doesn’t Luke have more decorations, it’s his apartment too,” her father said as he walked towards her. He stared towards her dad suspiciously as she shifted her gaze towards Luke. Luke simply shrugged as he excitedly jogged past her father and Y/N towards the pizza. 

“He didn’t bring anything, not my fault,” she mumbled with a grin as she excitedly wrapped her arms around her fathers neck as he hugged her. “So-so you’re okay with this?” she asked as she glanced towards Luke who was already half way done with the slice he had grabbed. 

“I want you happy, he makes you happy right?” he asked, eyeing Luke. 

“So happy, Dad,” she mumbled as she glanced towards him, nudging him slightly. 

“Sorry, starving. There’s enough for you too, Mr. Y/L/N,” he expressed as he lifted the cardboard of the pizza box again. Her father chuckled.

“Better grab a slice before this kid eats it all,” he joked as he took one. Y/N blinked away the happy tears forming in her eyes as she watched her father and Luke interact. 

~~~

She sat on the bed, the blanket covering her lower frame as she clicked through the collection of movies on Hulu. She sighed as she watched Luke walk into their bedroom, black sweatpants low on his frame as he ran his fingers through his damp curly hair. She shifted her gaze towards him, her cheeks heating up as she scanned his shirtless frame. 

His lips curled up in a small smirk as he stood beside her at the bed. “You okay?” he asked barely above a whisper as he ran his hand across her jawline. He forced her gaze towards him. She smiled as she met his gaze. 

“I’m happy,” she mumbled. He smiled as he leaned towards her, delicately kissing her lips. He pulled away for a moment before he pecked her lips once more. “I love you,” she whispered. 

He hummed happily as he climbed over her body as he plopped down beside her. “I love you more,” he whispered as he slowly climbed under the comforter. She clicked a random movie before she cuddled into Luke. Resting her head onto his bare chest, she could hear his heartbeat. Slow and content. “When your dad showed up earlier, I thought he was going to beat my ass,”

She chuckled softly as she ran her fingertip along his chest, drawing small circles. “He can’t hurt a fly,” she teased.

“Tell that to my head, still hurts from the panic attack I went through,” he said half joking. She lifted her head up, looking down towards him. She lifted her hand up as she caressed his cheek slowly. “God, you’re beautiful,” he mumbled as he scanned her features. Lifting his hand up, he took a hold of her neck, her hair cascading over his hand. 

“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” she muttered, a teasing grin on her lips. “My pretty boy,” she whispered before she leaned towards him, kissing him softly.

[vinyldreamsfuckup]

Tea Party

A: Thank you @being-worthy for this comment. I mean omg: “He’d be such a great and proud girl dad!!! Imagine him, Duff, and Axl having a tea party and dressed up as very fancy princesses and lots of glitter to, they’d never be able to say no!! 🥰❤️🤣” this is a follow up to Long Time Coming

Warnings: nothing 🫣 just fluff, slash being an adorable dad, and Duff and Axl being uncles

Somehow, Lily has convinced Slash to let her do his makeup and hair. She'd used your makeup and messily applied it to Slash's face. Well, when Duff and Axl came over to discuss potential songs for the album, the tea party was in full swing. Slash had bows in his hair, glitter on his face, lipstick on, and was sitting with little Lily and her stuffed animals drinking tea. And he was doing it happily.

"Hey Slash, whatcha doing?" Axl asked, clearly trying to hold back laughter as he looked at his friend. He was dressed in one of my dresses, which was incredibly tight on him. Slash looked back at Axl and Duff.

"I'm having a tea party. Duh," Slash responded. Lily giggled and ran over to Axl.

"Axl! Axl!" Lily giggled as she ran.

"Hi princess," Axl chuckled as he scooped Lily up. She was wearing a Cinderella costume and her curls were pulled back into a little ponytail. She had glitter all over her and her makeup was done.

"You here for tea party?" Lily asked Axl. She looked over at Duff with her bug eyes.

Duff looked over at Axl, then over at Axl, then back at Lily. He sighed slightly, "Yeah bug. We're here for the tea party."

Lily didn't let them skimp out on any of it. Axl and Duff had bows, glitter, and makeup smeared everywhere. When they walked into the master bedroom you had to hold back your laughter. Lily was giggling as she walked into the room.

"Mama! Dresses!" Lily said with a smile. She was trying to ask for dresses for Duff and Axl. Slash walked in behind them and leaned against the wall.

"Oh, you're putting on dresses?" You asked Axl and Duff with a giggle. You walked into your closet and started looking through your clothes.

"Apparently," Axl huffed and leaned against the doorway.

"Well don't sound too excited," Duff chuckled.

"I don't even know if I have anything that fits either of you. I barely had anything that fit Slash," You said as you shorted through your clothes. You mainly had dresses for the events you had to go to over the years, so most of your dresses were either too short or too small.

You pulled out a long mint green lace-up dress and handed it to Duff, "This might fit you."

"Thanks," Duff said with a smile and started to change into it. You handed Axl a pink slip-on dress.

"Seriously?" Axl said with a huff.

"Pink!" Lily giggled as she pointed to the dress. Axl looked down at her and his expression softened.

"Yeah princess, I'll put on the pink dress," Axl said with a soft smile.

After everyone was in their dresses and sitting at the small little table in Lily's room, she walked around setting tiaras on their heads. They spent the whole afternoon sitting together, drinking tea, and playing with stuffed animals.

For one afternoon, all the tension and fighting slipped away. Axl and Slash couldn't help but get along and play with Lily. The album slipped away, the Snakepit tour slipped away, the constant arguments slipped away, and they just played together and melted at Lily's happy giggles. It was a nice contrast to their normal interactions. And most importantly, Lily was happy.

By the end of the day, Slash sauntered into the kitchen. He looked exhausted and was covered in glitter. He leaned on the kitchen island and looked up at you with a lazy smile.

"Have fun today?" You asked with a smile as you put some pasta on his plate.

Slash nodded, "Honestly, more fun than I've had in a while."

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh, "I think this is your new look."

He looked down at his black dress and the glitter all over his body. He still had the pink bows in his hair and the makeup all over his face, "You think?"

You laughed and nodded. You set his plate in front of him, "Yeah baby. You make a very pretty princess."

He popped out his hip and smiled, "I know."

[samkerrworshipper]

let me love you | Leah Williamson x Reader

a lot of angst, ending in fluff, themes of eating disorders, depression and alcohol abuse, 5900 words

please keep sending request yall i need something to feed my brainnn

i’m stuck on a blurb for this so basically just what happens after a rough moment in r and leah’s relationship, can they fix it? can they learn to love each other again? the photo i’ve used says it all lol

it’s piecy and i think u can see my sleep deprivation in this one but hope you enjoy!

I’d known going into camp that I was in trouble. That as soon as the team doctor did our pre camp exam that I was going to be fucked. With the extensive weight loss I knew that it was only a matter of time before I was approached but I hadn’t expected it to be the first night.

I’d been lying in my bed, in my room by myself. I was rooming with Keira this camp, but luckily enough she spent most of her time in Lucy or Leah’s room so I didn’t see much of her. I’d had the tv playing in the background, to fill the room with something other than the sound of my breathing and the sound of me scrolling through my phone. Then my little bubble, my perfect barrier that I’d created was broken by the resounding noise of someone knocking at my door.

“Y/n, it’s me.”

Sarina. Fuck.

“It’s open.”

It was probably the polite thing to get up and open the door but I was comfortable in my bed and while Sarina was terrifying I couldn’t see her getting mad at me over something so minor. The door cracked open and I switched the tv off out of respect for the manager who had closed my hotel room door behind her. Her face was unsteady, like she was unsure how to approach the conversation, something that I’d never seen on her.

“You missed dinner.”

“I feel asleep, the jetlag has tossed me around a little bit. I didn’t even realise until I woke up twenty minutes ago.”

It wasn’t a lie, I had travelled an obscene amount in the past twenty four hours. I’d flown from Cabo to New York, then spent 20 hours in New York with Kristie and some of the Gotham girls before getting on a plane to take me to Barcelona, where I’d spent a very short eight hours with Keira and Lucy before we got on a plane to London to bring us to camp. It had been hectic to say the least and had resulted in one of my suitcases being lost and me being in a very lengthy back and forth discussion with British Airways about how my luggage had ended up in Austria and that no, I didn’t have the time to go to Austria to retrieve it.

“I think we need to have a talk.”

Sarina’s foot was tapping nervously at her side, it was her tell, she was about to have a hard conversation that was not going to be easy to go over.

“Okay.”

She nodded at me.

“Meeting room 2, five minutes?”

I gulped, fuck, a meeting room. It had gone from informal to a little bit to formal for my liking. I nodded regardless, too scared to reply in any other way.

“Yes Ma’am.”

As soon as Sarina had left my room I was throwing myself out of the bed to throw on some proper clothes and make myself look a little bit more presentable. I threw on my light blue tech fleece and puffer jacket that we all had and then very haphazardly threw my hair into a greasy high pony. I pushed some mascara through my eyelashes and some moisturiser on my skin before coming to the conclusion that no amount of makeup was going to be able to disguise the purple bags under my eyes. Once I was done making myself look a little bit less dead I picked up my phone and keycard from my bedside table and left the room, making my way down the hallway towards the meeting rooms.

The meeting rooms had a multitude of purposes, zoom calls, skypes, video review, contract signing. Business stuff mainly, not a talk with your coach. That was what had me trembling a little bit as I made my way closer to the meeting rooms. When I got to the door of the second one, the one I’d been told to go to I waited outside of it for a few seconds before lifting my fist and knocking twice on the door. I didn’t have to wait long for a reply, Sarina was at the door opening it for me in a matter of seconds. I stepped into the room quickly, my eyes recognising all the faces in the room.

I was directed to a seat at the table, sitting directly across from Sarina, Leah, Millie and our team doctor. Lucy and Keira were seated on either side of me and the whole vibe of the room was enough to tell me that I was royally fucked.

“We are all here to have an open conversation about your recent medical exam.”

I kept my eyes on my own hands, which were resting on the table, playing with the rings that adorned my hands. I couldn’t look up, couldn’t bear to look into the eyes of a woman who a few weeks ago I had loved so intensely and now couldn’t even think about without crying.

“You're here to tell me that I’ve dropped a dangerous amount of weight considering my normal weight class, that I should get some further tests done even though we know that there is nothing medically wrong with me. We’ll beat around the bush a little bit, try to ignore the fact that we all know that you can’t allow me to play when I’ve dropped this much weight and then you’ll send me home.”

Sarina’s jaw was set firmly, I could make out that much as my eyes darted up to the older woman quickly to catch a look at her facial expression.

“Do you want to die Ms y/l/n.”

I was taken aback massively by the question, because who asks a person that question, especially in this context.

“I don’t feel comfortable having this conversation with certain people in the room. I don’t want to die necessarily but living right now isn’t exactly ideal either. I’ve had a rough couple of weeks, I’ll admit that, I’m aware. I’ve neglected my body, prioritised other things. I knew walking in here that I’d dropped 2 stone and I wasn’t proud of it. I just went through an intense break up though, I’ve been in Cabo for three weeks, most of which I don’t remember. I know that it’s bad, I know that as an athlete we have expectations but I need some wiggle room, I need you to give me a shot to make this better. Because I honestly believe that in this environment I can fix it, I’ll get the weight back, I’ll get back into therapy or whatever. I’ll give up the bad habits, I just need a period of grace.”

I couldn’t look at Leah, couldn’t let myself out of fear that my brave face would fall and I’d be left in shambles sitting here. I just needed to convince Sarina that I could get my shit together.

She was in front of my brooding for a few minutes, leaving everyone in the room in an awkward silence.

“Everyone out besides Leah and you.”

Fuck.

I watched as everyone else slowly got up, Lucy giving me a reassuring pat on the back before exiting the room.

“I’m giving you both five minutes to explain what the fuck happened between you two, because as much as you both want to make it sound like nothing it isn’t. Everyone can feel it and obviously it's affecting the both of you.”

I still couldn’t look at her, it just hurt.

“Seems like I’m the only one who’s suffering.”

“That’s not true nor fair y/n. Leah’s having her own struggles.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes at the table.

“She’s the one who caused the problems in the first place so I’d call that karma.”

The tension in the room was thick, like a cloud laid over us.

“That’s not fair, you had a part in it as well.”

“I had a part in you kissing Jordan at a party?”

“Jordan kissed me first off, drunkenly, she apologised profusely to both of us when she was sober. You soberly made the decision to kiss fucking Alexia.”

If the tension could have thickened anymore, it did.

“You cheated on me with your ex, I think I can cheat on you with my ex situation.”

“Do you realised how fucked up that whole ideology is? I didn’t want to cheat on you, anyone who was there that night will tell you that I physically pushed Jordan off of me, I didn’t want it to happen. I know it hurts you, but you wouldn’t even hear me out, you didn’t answer my calls or texts. I didn’t know where you went, just heard from Lucy that you’d decided to go abroad for a few weeks and you were turning your phone off. I spent 3 days sitting in Keira’s apartment balling my eyes out because I missed you so much, I haven’t slept properly ever since, I can’t fucking live without you y/n/n.”

Leah was sobbing and it hurt a part of me that I didn’t know existed. I wanted to hug her, wipe the tears from her face and apologise for my stupidity, to make it all better. But I was stubborn as shit and I also hadn’t really forgiven Leah. I hadn’t forgiven myself either.

That night had been the worst one of my life. Seeing Leah making out with Jordan had broken my heart and before I knew it I’d been running out of the bar we’d been celebrating in and calling Ale because she was my person and then she was picking me up and taking me back to my apartment and she was comforting me on our sofa and then we were kissing and Leah was walking in, mascara smeared and tears down her face and then Ale was running out of the apartment. I ended up waiting for Leah to fall asleep before I’d fled. I’d been terrified, my fear response was flight, when I was scared I fled, so that was what I’d done on that godforsaken night.

“I don’t really give a shit who did what. You both fucked up, that’s evident. We have the olympic coming up, Leah you are coming off of an ACL injury and you are going to be our captain, y/n, we need you on top of your game for us to win. I won’t deal with this team being torn into shreds because the both of you are too stubborn to talk about your feelings. Am I understood?”

Both Leah and I nodded meekly at Sarina, the both of us equally terrified of the dutchwoman and the tone of voice she was using towards us, like we were six year olds.

“Y/n, I’ll give you a grace period, two weeks. You’ve got two weeks to show that you can make some improvement in your habits, but there will be conditions if you wish to continue training and playing during those two weeks. You will eat every single meal, with the rest of the team. You aren’t going to work out beyond our team scheduled gym sessions. You will go back to talking to a therapist on a weekly basis. You are going to socialise with your teammates instead of holding yourself up in your room by yourself. You and Leah will room together until you can prove to me that you can be civil. If any of these conditions are broken you will find yourself sidelined, am I understood?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Sarina nodded at me, her blue eyes staring intensely into my own, I was trying to get away from this situation, away from the confrontation that was only bound to get worse the longer Leah and I were stuck in a room together.

“You are free to go, I expect to see you at breakfast tomorrow morning.”

I’d given Sarina a quick nod before bolting out of my seat and straight out of the room. I was pretty sure I’d had the worst 96 hours of my life. My whole body felt like it was on fire, my hair and face were still greasy from all of the airplane travel and my eyes just hurt. I half jogged my way back to my room, slamming and locking the door behind me almost as soon as I’d closed the door behind me. I slowly slid down against the solid wood, this whole situation was so fucked.

Not only did I have to focus on being fucking civil with a woman who I hated, I had to fucking turn my whole life around in a matter of two weeks, which right now seemed pretty fucking impossible. I wasn’t a person who cried very often, I wasn’t in touch with my emotions like that. But right now, fat, warm, wet tears were dripping down my face and my lip was wobbling between my two front teeth trying to suppress the sobs that were coming up from my throat. Love hurt. Loving someone and being loved is one of the hardest things that I’d ever done, because it’s not easy to spend every day loving a person, it fulfilling but it also is so fucking painful.

I could hardly make up the energy to get off the floor, so I didn’t. I sat against the door, crying, shaking and trembling as I let out the feelings that I’d built up for the last month. I was a person who didn’t cry very often, when I was drunk, when someone died, when I was really hurt. That was the extent of my emotional release. Leah was similar, that’s why we’d hit it off, neither of us were over emotional, we didn’t read into things and we didn’t over complicate anything. At the end of the day neither of us had to worry about the other one getting offended by a joke or drunken words. I’d honestly believed we were soulmates, for a long time, but that night had wrecked it all.

Both of us had been stupid, it had been the celebratory night of our win in the Nations League, we’d beaten Spain, it was a big deal. Everyone was completely wasted and I didn’t remember much of the night until Leah had been on the dance floor with Jordan, Chloe, Millie, Rachel and some other teammates and one moment Leah is motioning for me to join me and the next Jordan is making out with her and I’m running out with Lucy following me. Then Lucy called Ale because I’d locked myself in our hotel room ensuite. Then Ale was there and she was comforting me and hugging me and I was pissed off at Leah and then I was kissing Ale and she was telling me no and the Leah walked in to comfort me and it was just a fucking mess of alcohol and emotions.

Just thinking about that night had hurt, I hadn’t let myself in the last month. Not when I’d been in Cabo drinking all day and night, clubbing and partying and spending all of my spare time trying to push my emotions away. Then I’d gotten the call from Sarina, I’d been expecting it but it had still shocked me for some reason. In a matter of 24 hours I’d been packing up all my shit and hopping on a plane back to the one place that I couldn’t have been more desperate to avoid. I’d contemplated turning down the call up, but a call from my agent had told me that I couldn’t expect an invite back if I turned one down now. The Olympics was a big deal as well, it was something that I did want to do but the overwhelming anxiety I had felt being faced with the reality that I was walking into a group of people that worshipped the ground that my ex girlfriend walked on.

My thought pattern was interrupted by the sound of knocking directly above my head. The sound pulsated against the wood and across my body, seeping deep into my bones. It was a resounding knock, loud, echoing across the room.

“Y/n, open up.”

It was the voice that I least wanted to hear at that moment and I tried my hardest to ignore it but the sound of the knocking repeating made it harder.

“Y/n/n, c’mon, open the door, I know you're in there.”

It was the nickname that only she called me, a nickname I hadn’t heard in a month and it hurt my soul hearing it. It made fresher tears fall from my eyes that I rubbed at furiously with the sleeve of my jumper. I wiped as much of the smudged mascara and tears from my face, I knew subconsciously that my eyes were red and puffy and Leah would one hundred percent be able to tell. For my dignity though I rubbed it all from my face before standing up and opened the door.

Before I could say anything Leah had slipped past me and into the room, making herself at home and sitting down on Keira’s bed, resting herself at the very top so she was leaning against the headboard. I pushed down any thoughts that I had about Leah being in the same position in our own bed, except with a lot less clothes covering her body.

“You’ve been crying.”

It wasn’t a question, a statement, but it held a question in it somewhere. Leah wasn’t used to me crying, so the fact that I was crying was probably a little bit of a shock to her.

“What do you want?”

Leah pouted at me, sarcastically, it pissed me off how confident she was when I felt like I was tearing at the seams.

“In case you didn’t remember, we’re roomies now. I wanted to talk, I think we both have stuff we need to get off of our chests. I love you y/n/n and I’m worried about you.”

“Go worry about Jordan.”

I was leaning against the dresser, trying my hardest to keep my shit together in front of the woman that was making me feel so many things that I had been denying myself for a month.

“That’s fair, but also not necessary. I didn’t kiss her y/n, I didn’t even get as close as a metre’s distance from her, anyone there could tell you that. I pushed her off me. So yes, she kissed me, without my consent or my desire for her to do so. I love you, not her. I promise you that. She means nothing to me beyond being my friend, I don’t love her.”

I didn’t really know what to say. Leah wasn’t really the root of my anger, because I knew that it had been Jordan all over Leah, and at the end of the day she’d come to my room that night to apologise instead of going back to Jordan’s, I was her priority.

“She loves you, and I can’t do anything about that. That hurts and I know that it shouldn’t, I have no right to be jealous but it hurts.”

Leah looked contemplatively at me, like she was trying to understand what I was saying but knew that she couldn’t really.

“Do you love Alexia?”

I gulped, that was a fucked up question that I didn’t have a answer for. My immediate silence gave enough context to that.

“That’s not a fair question.”

I was deflecting and also furiously toying with a loose thread on the edge of my jumper.

“I think I deserve to know if the woman I love loves me the same way.”

It was hard hearing those words come out of her mouth as well.

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t love her. I dated her for six years, I thought I was going to marry her. I don’t love her like I loved you. We broke up because we couldn’t love each other that way. It was a surface relationship, but we both knew at the end of the day that we couldn’t get married or have kids or get old together, we didn’t love each other like that. We didn’t have a messy break up, I didn’t have a phase where I hated her and I wanted nothing more than to be away from her. We just stopped physically loving each other. She’s still my person Leah, you know that. I regret kissing her, I was so drunk and I was so fucking upset and she was so familiar to me in that moment. So maybe I do love her, in some fucked up way, but I don’t love her long term. She’s not the woman that I want to spend the rest of my life loving, not the person that I want to wake up next to, not the person that I want to write vows for, not the person that I want to be with every minute of every day. I don’t yearn for her.”

I realised now that there were tears in Leah’s eyes, which shocked me a little. Leah never cried, I could count the amount of times I’d seen her properly sob on one hand. Four times. When we won the Euros, when she did her ACL, when she woke up from ACL surgery and that night when it had all happened. Apart from that she was a brick wall, she wore a facade everyday, that very little people got to see broken down. I considered myself very grateful to have been able to see past it, to see the side of Leah that not a lot did. She’d let a stray tear go every once in a while, but proper crying, proper emotional, vulnerable crying was very rare to see.

“Do you love me long term?”

“Leah, that's not a fair question either.”

Tears were running down Leah’s face, similar to the tears that had been falling down my face less than five minutes ago.

“It's not fair? I’ve been here for the last month y/n, wondering if we still stand a chance. Wondering if you still love me, wondering if I should wait around for you? I want to know if you still love me as much as I love you.”

I could feel more tears coming to my eyes, Leah was sitting not even three metres away from me and yet it felt like we were oceans apart.

“I don’t know. Does it really matter?”

Leah was wiping at her face, she detested vulnerability and it was clear in her actions.

“Does it matter? Y/n/n, I am trying to figure out if I am going to spend the rest of my life fucking mourning losing the love of my life. I want to know if I stand a chance, if there is something here that we can salvage, something here that we can try and fix. I will spend everyday making it up to you if I have to, anything you need us to do I am down to do it.”

I shifted from toe to toe in my spot standing, Leah’s words were so genuine, they had so much power over me, sent shivers down my whole body.

“I love you. I love you enough though to tell you that I’m a fucking wreck, some of it’s because of this, some of it is just me. Leah I’m trying to fucking sort myself out now and I love you but I’m not going to tell you that your my priority right now, I love you but I also am trying to learn how to love myself and I’m also trying to learn how to love my sport again.”

Leah pursed her lips, wiping the last of her emotional admission tears from her face. She looked so raw, her blonde hair was thrown up in a messy high bun, an unusual look for her, her face was stripped bare of any makeup and her jumper looked a tad bit too big on her. She looked stripped, stripped of her dignity, stripped of her facade, stripped of everything that made her Leah motherfucking Williamson. I wasn’t looking at England’s captain, I wasn’t looking at Arsenal and England’s world class defenders. I was looking at just Leah. The Leah who would wake me up with forehead kisses every morning, the Leah who would give me foot massages after a rough training, the Leah who would only look at me in a room full of people.

“I’ve worried about you so much that I started to get scared I was praying. You took off and I didn’t know with who or where. I mean I know that I fucked up but y/n/n, we could have talked it out, or we could have tried to. You fled and you didn’t even give me a goodbye. I didn’t know if we were done or if I was ever going to see you again and it fucking broke me. I stayed in bed for a week, I didn’t eat, I didn’t leave. Keira and Lucy literally had to drag me out of bed to get me to do anything. I cried, non stop for a week, it was horrible and I felt like shit. Then Lucy got Alexia to come over and we talked it out and she told me that she didn’t mean for it to happen and all she wanted was for us to be happy and it broke me because how am I supposed to be happy when the woman I love is nowhere to be seen.”

A sob echoed from her chest and it broke my heart, because I hated seeing Leah in pain, I hated seeing her hurt. When she’d done her ACL it had been the most gut wrenching thing I’d had to witness. The only difference was that now I was the source of pain and it hurt ten times more.

I pushed myself off of the dresser and towards the bed. Leah’s head was buried in her hands, her elbows resting on her knees as her palms rubbed furiously at her eyes. I sat down onto the bed and pushed myself up against the headboard beside her, putting one of my arms down on her shoulders and gently nudging her head into my neck. It was uncharted territory but also felt so familiar and right. Hearing Leah’s sobs hurt my soul, but my contact seemed to calm her a little bit. She flinched away initially, unsure but then she was seeking it out, leaving into me and everything about it felt right.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry for what happened with Jordan, I’m sorry if I didn’t make you feel loved, I’m sorry if I didn’t treat you well enough, I’m sorry if I’m not good enough. I’m trying to work on it, I’m trying to be better,” I stopped Leah before she could say much more.

“It’s not your fault Leah,” My voice came out with exasperation, because I hated that Leah felt that way,

“You made me feel loved everyday, you treated me perfectly. You are perfect Leah, you were a perfect girlfriend, a perfect captain, a perfect person. We had our moments but you are a good person, you don’t need to be better. I’m the one who can’t fucking handle herself, who had to flee the country when it got rough and I’m sorry for that, I’m sorry that I ran when it got hard.”

Hearing Leah hiccup on her breath was so painful for me, painful enough that I reached my hand down to her face to try and wipe some of the tears off of her cheeks.

“C’mon, you're too pretty to be crying.”

It was a weak compliment that died with the mood of the room, Leah let out a depressing laugh that honestly just made it all worse but her sobs did quieten down a little bit and I noticed that the tremors that were haunting her whole body had slowed down and had become less of a repetitive pattern.

“You haven’t been eating, you lost two stones, did I do that to you?”

Leah’s voice was so shaky, so insanely innate for her.

“Me not eating has nothing to do with you and I won’t have you taking the blame for it. Not everything is your fault Leah and you don’t have to take the blame for it all. I know how your brain works, that you are going to take the blame for everything that has happened between us, but it’s not your fault, a lot of it is mine, my eating habits though have nothing to do with you.”

My voice was a mixture of steady and stern, I had a point to get across and I needed Leah to understand that, I needed her to know that. She wasn’t as fearless and brave as she constantly tried to prove to anyone, she was always the first to blame herself for anything, always getting down on herself and I knew that, I knew that Leah could send herself into a downward spiral.

She pulled her head out of my shoulder and locked eyes with me, her dark brown eyes felt like they were violating me, I felt like I was naked under her gaze, like I was so incredibly vulnerable.

“Why haven’t you been eating?”

I felt like I was under a magnifying glass, like Leah could see every single part of me and could see into my brain. She always worried about me, always. To the point where sometimes it was concerning, I had as much as a sniffle and she was doting over me like my mother.

“I’m fine Lee.”

“If you were fine you wouldn’t have lost two stones.”

She could read me too easily and she knew that I was pretty much putty in her hands as soon as she started talking.

“It got dark for me when I left, I needed to leave but then I was gone and I realised that I was so alone and I was partying to try and avoid my feelings and it worked but you know how I am when I’m depressed, I stop eating, I stop functioning. I lived off of alcohol for three weeks and then I got the call from Sarina and for the first time in three weeks I was completely sober and it hit me like a freight train. I realised how bad it had gotten and I was in shambles.”

Leah nodded at me, she knew how I worked, knew that when I was starting to spiral I tended to push it all down until it got so bad that I had a nervous breakdown.

“You need to eat, we need you playing, I need you on the field. It broke my heart when Sarina came and told me, when she asked me if I’d seen any of the warning signs or if I’d noticed and I couldn’t give her an answer.”

I brought my hand back up to rest on Leah’s face, she was still shaking, still hiccuping with every word that she said. I pushed the tears that were pooling on her face away with the pad of my thumb.

“I couldn’t even tell her anything.”

Leah’s words were thrown out between choken sobs and hiccups, it was so strung out and painful that I felt it in my chest.

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that, I’m sorry I deserted you. I’m so sorry I hurt you Lee, you deserve better, you deserve someone who has their shit together.”

Leah pulled herself out from beside me and scooted herself so she was sitting in front of me, between my legs looking at me directly.

“I want you though, I want to love you and I want you to let me.”

I couldn’t do much more than look at her, look at her eyes, look at how heartbroken they were. They were full of so much pain, so many sleepless nights and a part of me wanted to fix some of that.

“Let us be happy, let all of this devastation come to an end and just let us be happy. We’ll work through what happened, we can try therapy, or something else. I want you though y/n/n, I want you forever and I don’t want us to give up on that because of some stupid shit that happened when we were drunk.”

Those fucking eyes, they held the sun and the moon, they had the power to make me do anything.

“I want to try, for us. I still think that you are my forever Leah. I just don’t want either of us to get hurt in the process.”

“Love hurts, we work through it. Please just try it for me.”

Her lip was wobbling in between her teeth and it took every single piece of self control I had to not take that lip in my own and just kiss the woman like I wanted to.

“Okay.”

Leah’s face lit up almost immediately, like a kid in a candy store. She leant in towards me, her lips hovering centimetres away from my own and her eyes looking into my own and it took literally every piece of my self control not to initiate anything.

“Is this okay?”

Leah’s voice was calmer this time, less rough on the edges, less broken. I nodded eagerly at her and relaxed into her body as she pressed her lips to mine. It was soft, tender, relaxing, so perfect.

“How about this?”

It was murmured against my lips, a small smirk forming along Leah’s lips.

“So good, but I think we are both overdue for some sleep.”

Leah frowned against my lips but nodded, we were both tired and it was obvious in our actions. She plopped herself down next to me, relaxing into my body and laying her head against my chest.

“Flick the lamp of love.”

The term of endearment sent a shiver down my back, it was so normal and yet so shocking to me. I obeyed her immediately, turning over to the bedside lamp and flicking it off so we were left in the dark. I shrugged my jacket off before relaxing down into the pillow. Leah shifted around for a few seconds, finding a comfortable spot on my body before stilling herself. She looked so small curled up against me, I tugged her hair out of its bun and rubbed her roots just the way I knew she liked me too and rubbed her back the way I knew sent her straight to sleep. It probably took not even a minute before Leah’s body relaxed fully and her breaths evened out and when they did I smiled a little bit looking at her exhausted form. I leant down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before relaxing myself fully against the pillows and preparing myself for my own sleep.

“I love you Leah, always.”

[animeomegas]

Itachi

Outdoor sex 👀

Canon Itachi spends a lot of time outdoors, mainly travelling between various countries and villages for his work with the Akatsuki.

But outdoor sex is not something that would ever enter his head as something anyone could even do.

He is surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, naïve when it comes to sex, so it's up to you to bring the idea up to him.

He likes it more than he thought he would. Probably a 4/10.

Afterwards he feels so weird, so young, like he's been caught with his hand in the biscuit jar. His cheeks stay red for an hour.

I think it's good for him to get up to some normal teenage shenanigans, even if his actual life is so far away from normal.

You were far enough from civilisation that you and Itachi had deemed a fire safe enough to keep going all night. You were glad; it was much colder here than you were used to.

You and Itachi were sat side by side on the ground, sheltered in part by a large tree. You watched him for a moment as the firelight danced across his stoic features. The lines in his face were deeper than ever. It worried you sometimes, how much your lives were destroying your both. You were in too far now to pull out, but... you had been trying to find more moments of joy to help balance things out.

Itachi was resistant to your plan with his almost monk-ish way of avoiding all of life's simple pleasures as 'unnecessary'. You were still working on getting him to enjoy himself sometimes.

You eyed the dark forest and an idea spawned into your head.

"It's cold."

"It is," Itachi said in agreement. He looked towards you for the first time in over an hour. Long silences were the third party of your relationship at this point.

"I know a way we could both keep warm..." You didn't wait for his response before you shuffled closer and pressed your cold lips to the warm flesh of his neck. He jumped and you opened your lips to make it clear that you didn't mean it to be a chaste peck.

You pulled back and were immediately greeted with a wide-eyed Itachi. He looked a little like an exceptionally baffled owl.

"Come on, 'tachi, there's no one for miles." You pressed a kiss to his lips. He did not reciprocate, so you pulled back again. He was still staring at you.

His mouth worked like he was trying to speak but it was a few more seconds until the words came out. "We're... outside?"

You giggled at his voice. He sounded so confused and like he wanted to check you for brain damage. "You can have sex outside, 'tachi."

His whole face went pink and he broke eye contact. "That's..."

"Here, what about a blowjob then?" You reached to undo his cloak. His eyes darted nervously left and right, but he didn't protest. You watched him for any sign of genuine protest, but it seemed like he was just struggling to understand that people could have sex in the woods. For a professional murderer, he had the strangest hang ups. "It will feel good, I promise."

...

After you finished sucking his soul out from in between his legs, Itachi spent the rest of the evening with his face tucked into your shoulder, shifting like a guilty teenager. It was a surprisingly cute version of your partner that you rarely got to see.

"Did it feel good?" you whispered into his hair. "Did you like trying something outside?"

Itachi didn't respond at first, but soon you felt him nod against your shoulder. "It's... I didn't know that... It was... good."

You noticed the next morning that he'd slept much better than he normally did while on mission.

[obsessedwithmiguel]

Dealing with period cramps

Author's note: Good evening, I am on my period so I just had to. Also, I headcanon that he has warm hands, and since his hands are or almost the size of a paper, why not?

Summary: You're on your second day of your period and the cramps aren't letting you sleep. You took painkillers but the it's taking so long to take effect. Luckily, Miguel arrived just in time to save you.

Warnings: Descriptive text, fluff, femreader, Miguel being a pookie bear (I cringed while writing this nickname).

It was twelve at night, and you still couldn't fall asleep. Your body curled into a fetal position while keeping your left hand on your lower abdomen. The cramps were driving you crazy, you couldn't wait for the medicine to take effect. Neither position was comfortable for you, since you not only had pain in your lower abdomen, but also in your lower back. Turning from side to side on the bed, you even went to lie face down with your knees on the bed and your body curled like that of a frog. For a moment you felt relief, but you felt uncomfortable in the lower andomen as it were. And the fact that you were bleeding a lot didn't help.

You were tired of getting up, going to the bathroom and cleaning yourself and the blood not stopping. You even felt a twinge down there from time to time. You were also tired of having to change your pads every time you go to the bathroom because they are full of blood. The trash can is almost full to the brim with toilet paper and your pads wrapped in them. You missed him a lot. Your partner, Miguel. The man you've been married to for almost two years. The man who stole your heart, the man who cast a spell on you with that look that pierces your soul. With those ordinary brown eyes that for you were like seeing galaxies or different worlds in them. Those eyes that make you nervous but fill you with a lot of love and tenderness. Casting a spell on you as if he were Medusa and you were his victim who didn't complain at all.

Those full lips but at the same time a little dry when you kiss them. Those lips that you would bite as if it were a candy. As if they were cherries or strawberries. Those lips that only you were the owner of. That hair so silky and soft. Oh, how he loved it when you ran your fingers through his chocolate milk curls; massaging his scalp as he soaked in your warmth and touch. You missed his soft, warm skin, his touch. Despite the calluses on his hands, which wasn't many, you liked it when he caressed you with love and respect. You loved and missed those intimate moments when you were both in bed, snuggled up to each other silently as you showered each other with affection.

Today, Miguel told you that he would be late. That he was sorry that he couldn't come early to have dinner with you. One of the things he appreciated and loved was how much you understood his job and responsibility. How important that job was to him. Although, there were times when you would talk seriously with him about the time he spent with you; conversations which you had already had with him before you got married. You told him that now he had someone who was waiting for him at home, someone who cared about his well-being and that he was no longer alone. But he simply told you that he had a lot of work on him and that he couldn't leave it until last or it would pile up more and more. He promised you that he would make it up to you in any way possible: be it with dates at home, cuddles, etc.

You missed his voice, since it was a low and tired voice it relaxed you in a certain way. A peace of mind that you didn't even know he would give you. You missed his compliments and the way he told you that he loved you even if it was short and brief. You missed him, you needed him by your side. But his responsibility always came before you.

While you continued writhing in bed, a multicolored portal, mainly orange, opened in the hallway of your home. Heavy footsteps could be heard as a tall, broad silhouette peeked through the door. There he was. Miguel. Red eyes from staring at his office screens for so long. Dark circles under his eyes that revealed how tired and exhausted he was. Half-disheveled hair that he didn't bother to fix. Heavy eyelids that threatened to lower and cover his vision so he could rest. Miguel directs his gaze towards your bed, his gaze changes to one of concern when he notices your state. He approaches while shuffling his feet a little. He still had his holographic suit on.

"¿Estás bien?" He asked with clear concern. His voice slightly hoarse from fatigue.

(Are you okay?)

You just let out a whimper when you turned to look at him. His imposing figure in front of you before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. The smell of your menstruation reaches Miguel's nostrils, making him realize. Miguel's expression softens as he runs his hand over your forehead.

"Did you take the painkillers?"

You nod. "They did nothing." You complained. Your tears at the edge of your eyes. Your voice reflected the pain and desperation of some relief.

"Let me take a shower first and-"

"You can shower later." You interrupted him. "Stay for a bit before you go."

"Are you sure?" Miguel asked since he felt a little sticky and was reluctant to go to bed knowing that his skin felt like that.

"Yeah..."

Miguel sighs defeated and walks to the other side of the bed, laying down next to you. You moved closer to him and gave him a kiss on the lips before turning around and pressing your back against his torso. Miguel brings his face closer to your neck, inhaling the soft and subtle smell of your soap. The hologram that covered Miguel's left hand disappears, leaving the skin there exposed. Miguel runs his hand over your lower abdomen, caressing his hands against yours. You remove your hand and he takes the opportunity to replace it with his. His hand big enough to cover the swollen and sore area. His warm hand passing under your clothes so that the heat is direct. His hand gently caresses the area in a circular motion. The calluses of his hand rubbing against your skin. The warmth of his torso was beginning to ease the pain in your lower back. Miguel plants a kiss on the back of your neck as he closes his eyes. Clearly loving and enjoying the closeness.

"¿Mejor?" He muttered close to your ear. His breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.

(Better?)

You nod as you sigh contently. "Thank you. Maybe you should be my heating pad from now on."

"Am I not yet?"

You huffed a laugh before drowning into his loving touch and warmth.

"Love you."

"Tambien te amo, bobita."

(Love you too, silly)