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rootedinrevisions · 1 month ago

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Better Late Than Never

SUMMARY: After years of friendship and one too many broken promises, Glen realizes he might lose the person who means the most to him. As he works to prove he’s ready to be the man she deserves, she wrestles with whether to risk her heart on the one person who’s been there all along.

The actress named is an OC that I gave a random name to. She is not based on any real life actresses or any co-stars Glen has ever been asscoiated or worked with. Just a random OC for the purpose of the story.

A/N: Thank you to the person who sent this request in. I am so sorry it's taken literally months to get this written. I hope it's worth the wait and that you enjoy it!

As always I'd love to hear what you guys think! I love seeing your comments, reblogs, and thoughts/feedback on my writing!

WORD COUNT: 11.1k

TAGS: In Comments.

The smell of cinnamon and freshly brewed coffee greeted you as you stepped into the cozy café, escaping the brisk December chill. The place was buzzing with holiday cheer—soft jazz versions of Christmas carols played in the background, and twinkling lights were strung across the windows. You tugged your scarf loose as your eyes scanned the room.

And then you saw him.

Glen was seated at a small table near the back, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he scrolled through his phone. His hair was messier than usual, a few strands falling onto his forehead, and he was dressed down in a flannel shirt and jeans, looking every bit like the guy you grew up with rather than the Hollywood star the rest of the world saw.

As if sensing your gaze, he looked up, and his face lit up with a grin that made your heart stutter. He stood, opening his arms wide.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite munchkin,” he teased, using the nickname he’d given you in high school.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face as you walked toward him. “Still holding on to that old nickname, huh?”

“Always.” His voice was warm, and before you could protest, he wrapped you in a bear hug, lifting you slightly off the ground. “Wouldn’t call you it if you weren’t so short.”

You laughed as he set you down, the sound muffled against his chest. “It’s good to see you,” you said, looking up at him once he released you.

“Good to see you too,” he replied, his smile softening as he held your gaze. “It’s been way too long.”

The two of you settled into your seats, the café’s warmth and the hum of conversation making it feel like no time had passed at all. Glen slid your drink across the table—a latte, just the way you liked it.

“You remembered?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course. You’re predictable,” he teased, winking. “Although I almost got you a peppermint mocha just to mess with you.”

“Ha, ha,” you said dryly, taking a sip of your drink. It was perfect, of course. “So, what brings you back to Austin? Don’t you have some big premiere to attend or a magazine spread to shoot?”

“Please,” Glen said, leaning back in his chair. “It’s Christmas. Had to come home for the holidays.”

“True,” you said, glancing out the window where people bustled by, their arms full of shopping bags and scarves wrapped tightly against the wind. “Austin does Christmas pretty well. Even without snow.”

Glen smirked. “You’re still holding out for that miracle snowstorm, huh?”

“A girl can dream,” you shot back with a grin.

The conversation drifted easily, filled with updates about his work, your job, and mutual friends. It wasn’t until you mentioned your upcoming birthday that his playful expression turned more serious.

“So,” you said, casually swirling the foam in your cup with your spoon, “my birthday’s in a couple of weeks. You still think you’ll be able to be here?”

His brow furrowed for a moment, as if the thought of missing it hadn’t even crossed his mind. “Of course I’ll be here. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“Really?” you asked, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice.

Glen leaned forward, his expression earnest. “You’ve been there for every big moment in my life. There’s no way I’m skipping yours.”

A warmth spread through your chest, and you quickly glanced down at your drink to hide the blush creeping up your neck. “Well, in that case, you’re invited to my very fancy celebration.”

“Fancy, huh?” His lips quirked into a grin.

“Super fancy,” you said with a smirk. “We’re talking margaritas, tacos, maybe a dive bar. Real high-class stuff.”

Glen’s grin fell as his face scrunched up in mock horror. “Please don’t tell me we’re spending your birthday at that awful dive bar on South Congress.”

You burst out laughing. “What, you don’t miss sticky floors and karaoke with questionable sound systems?”

He shook his head, leaning back in his chair with a dramatic sigh. “I’m just saying, with a couple of phone calls, I could get us into literally any place in Austin. Rooftop bars, private clubs—your pick.”

You rolled your eyes. “And spend the night dodging people trying to take selfies with you? No, thanks. Besides, you know those fancy rooftop bars aren’t my style.”

Glen chuckled, his playful grin returning. “Fine, munchkin. Dive bars and tacos it is. But don’t come crying to me when someone tries to serenade you with a terrible rendition of ‘Don’t Stop Believin’.’”

You smirked, raising your cup in a mock toast. “It wouldn’t be my birthday without it. Besides, it’s not about where we are. It’s about the people I’m with. My favorite people, to be specific.”

Glen pointed his spoon at you, smirking. “You really don’t have to keep buttering me up, you know. I already told you I’m coming. Whole weekend, no distractions. I’m all yours.”

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping into your expression. “No distractions, huh? Not even work?”

He held a hand to his chest in mock offense. “What kind of friend do you think I am? I told my team: no calls, no events. You get my undivided attention. Pinky promise.”

He held out his pinky, and you laughed despite yourself, hooking your own around his. His hand was warm, and the contact lingered just a little longer than necessary before he pulled away.

“You better not bail on me, Powell,” you warned playfully, but there was a faint edge to your voice.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his expression softening. “You’ve been there for me through every big moment in my life. I’m not missing yours.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, and you quickly glanced down at your drink, trying to hide the warmth creeping into your cheeks. It wasn’t fair how easily he could make your heart skip a beat without even trying.

“Now, tell me about this party. How many people are we talking? And how many of them are single?” Glen said, flashing you a wink.

You rolled your eyes, smirking. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And yet, you still put up with me.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to fade away. It was just the two of you, laughing and teasing like you always had, but the thought lingered in the back of your mind: maybe, just maybe, you wanted more.

* * * * *

A FEW WEEKS LATER

Your room was a mess of clothes—sweaters, jeans, and dresses strewn across the bed in a chaotic attempt to find the perfect outfit. You stood in front of the mirror, holding up a navy blue dress, then tossed it onto the growing pile with a sigh.

“Too dressy,” you muttered to yourself, reaching for a soft cream sweater instead.

Dinner with Glen wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, but still, you wanted to look nice. It wasn’t every day you got one-on-one time with him, especially since his life seemed to revolve around premieres, photoshoots, and packed schedules. Tonight, though—it was just supposed to be the two of you. A low-key dinner, catching up like old times.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling you out of your thoughts. You glanced at the screen and saw Glen’s name pop up, a text notification lighting up the room. Smiling, you grabbed the phone, already anticipating something cheeky or playful.

Instead, your smile faltered as you read the message:

GLEN: Hey, I’m so sorry, but something came up, and I can’t make it to dinner tonight. I’ll definitely be there for the party tomorrow, though. Promise."

Your chest tightened, and you reread the text, hoping you’d somehow misunderstood. But there it was, plain as day. He wasn’t coming.

You sank down onto the edge of your bed, staring at the message. A flicker of disappointment stirred in your chest, and you tried to push it down. It wasn’t like he’d done this on purpose. Glen was busy—always busy. You knew that.

Still, tonight had felt different. It wasn’t just any dinner; it was the start of your birthday weekend, and it had been his idea to plan something special just the two of you to start the weekend off.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of how to respond. You didn’t want to come off as upset, even if you were.

Finally, you typed: No worries. I’ll see you tomorrow!

You added a smiley face at the end, hoping it would mask the sting of disappointment.

Glen’s reply came almost instantly: Thanks for understanding. I owe you one. Tomorrow’s going to be amazing—I promise!

You set your phone down and exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the letdown. It wasn’t the end of the world. You still had tomorrow, and it wasn’t like you weren’t able to make other plans tonight. Maybe you’d text a friend and see if they wanted to grab a drink or hang out.

But even as you stood up and started putting the clothes back into your closet, the nagging feeling lingered. Glen had been your best friend since forever, and deep down, you’d hoped tonight would feel like old times again—just you and him, laughing over tacos and margaritas like nothing had changed.

As you finished hanging up the last of your clothes, your phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn’t a text—just a notification from Instagram. You picked it up, your thumb mindlessly tapping the app out of habit.

The screen lit up with familiar photos from friends, coworkers, and influencers. You scrolled past a shot of someone’s latte art and a blurry concert video before something caught your eye.

It was Glen. The photo, posted by a good friend of Glen was unmistakable: Glen, standing in the corner of a lavish party, his arm casually slung around her.

The caption read, "Celebrating with the one and only @GlenPowell and the incomparable @AlannaNorris at her wrap party tonight! 🎬✨"

Your heart sank.

You tapped on the image, zooming in despite yourself. Glen looked every bit the part of Hollywood star—broad smile, hair perfectly tousled, a drink in hand. And then there was Alanna Norris, the co-star he’d been talking about for months. She looked just as radiant as she did on screen: long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders, wearing a dress that seemed to shimmer even in the dim lighting of the party.

Your thumb hovered over the screen as you stared, frozen.

“Seriously?” you whispered to yourself, the word sharp in the silence of your room.

You clicked over to Glen’s profile, hoping—praying—it wasn’t what it looked like. But there it was again, a short video he’d just posted to his story.

The camera panned across a glittering rooftop, strings of fairy lights glowing against the New York skyline. Glen’s laugh echoed in the background as he toasted with a group of people, Alanna sitting right beside him, leaning into his shoulder like they’d known each other forever.

Your stomach twisted.So this was what had "come up."

You locked your phone and tossed it onto the bed, the dull thud breaking the heavy silence in the room.

It wasn’t just the fact that he’d canceled on you for some Hollywood event. It was because it was her. Alanna, the gorgeous, talented, larger-than-life actress Glen had gushed about every chance he got. You’d listened to him talk about her on phone calls, how brilliant she was, how hilarious, how effortlessly cool.

And now, she wasn’t just a co-star. She was at the center of his world tonight.

You sank onto the bed, feeling a lump rise in your throat. It wasn’t like you could compete with someone like that. You were just... you. The girl Glen had known since middle school. The one who knew all his secrets, his quirks, his favorite stupid jokes. But suddenly, that didn’t feel like enough.

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you rested your chin on them, trying to push the image out of your head. Tomorrow was your party. Tomorrow, Glen would be there, and everything would be fine.

* * * * *

THE NEXT DAY

The next morning, the sound of your alarm pulled you from restless sleep. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, but the heaviness from last night hadn’t lifted. Today was supposed to be a good day—a celebration. You tried to focus on that as you showered and got dressed, slipping into a casual outfit for your plans with the girls.

By mid-morning, you were seated in a cozy pedicure chair at your favorite spa, surrounded by the laughter and chatter of your closest friends. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus filled the air, and the soothing warmth of the foot soak should have been relaxing. Should have.

“You’re quiet today,” Maggie said, glancing at you over the top of her magazine. She was seated in the chair next to yours, her dark hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. “That’s not like you. What’s going on?”

You shook your head quickly. “Nothing. Just tired, I guess.”

“Uh-huh.” Maggie raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“Girl, you’ve been off all morning,” your other friend Taylor chimed in from across the row, her toes painted a vibrant red. “Spill it. What’s wrong? Is it birthday stress?”

“It’s nothing, really,” you said, avoiding their eyes.

Maggie closed her magazine with a snap and leaned closer. “Liar. Something’s up, and we’re not letting you out of here until you tell us.”

You hesitated, your stomach twisting. The last thing you wanted was to drag your friends into your Glen drama. But as the silence stretched, their expectant looks wore you down.

With a sigh, you finally admitted, “Glen canceled dinner last night.”

“What?” Maggie looked genuinely surprised. “Why?”

You bit your lip, debating how much to say. “He said something came up... but then I saw on Instagram that he was at a party for Alanna Norris.”

Taylor let out a low whistle. “Oof. That’s rough.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, staring at the bubbling water swirling around your feet.

Maggie gave you a pointed look. “Wait. You’re upset because Glen ditched dinner, or because he ditched dinner for her?”

“I’m upset because he canceled, period,” you said quickly, a little too quickly.

“Uh-huh,” Maggie said again, her voice dripping with skepticism. “Come on, we’re not blind. You’ve been into Glen for years. Don’t even try to deny it.”

Your cheeks flushed. “I’m not... It’s not like that.”

“Oh, please,” Taylor said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve had heart eyes for that man since high school. And now he’s a big-shot actor, and you’re still acting like he’s just your childhood best friend. It’s obvious to everyone but you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Maggie cut you off. “Look, we get it. You’re hurt. And yeah, him blowing off dinner for Alanna is a crappy move. But you know Glen—he wouldn’t miss your party for anything. He loves you, even if he’s too dumb to realize how he loves you.”

Taylor nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Don’t let this ruin your weekend. You’re amazing, and tonight’s about celebrating you. If Glen has half a brain, he’ll show up and spend the whole night groveling.”

You let out a small laugh despite yourself, grateful for their attempts to cheer you up. “Thanks, guys.”

“Anytime,” Maggie said, leaning back in her chair as the nail technician started painting her toes. “Now, let’s focus on the important stuff. What are you wearing tonight?”

The afternoon passed in a blur of laughter and pampering, and by the time you and the girls left the salon, your nails gleaming and your spirits lifted, the tension from earlier had eased. The golden glow of the setting sun filtered through the car windows as Maggie drove you all back to your place, the playlist of nostalgic throwbacks you’d put together for the weekend blaring through the speakers.

By the time you stepped through your front door, the mood had shifted to one of excited anticipation. The smell of vanilla candles filled your apartment, mingling with the faint scent of perfume and hair spray as you and the girls scattered to your respective corners to finish getting ready.

“Are you sure about this outfit?” you called from your room, stepping into the hallway in your dress. The shimmering fabric caught the light, hugging your figure just enough to make you feel elegant, but not over the top.

Taylor popped her head out of the bathroom, her lips lined perfectly in a bold red. “Girl, yes. You look amazing. Stop overthinking.”

Maggie appeared behind her, fluffing her curls. “She’s right. You’re the birthday girl—own it.”

You smiled, turning back to the mirror to smooth down the dress and fasten the delicate bracelet Maggie had given you earlier as a gift. The room buzzed with energy as you applied the final touches—adding a swipe of gloss to your lips, slipping into heels that clicked lightly against the hardwood floor, and making sure everything was just right.

As the clock ticked closer to party time, you took a deep breath and glanced at your friends. “Okay, how do I look?”

Taylor gave you an approving once-over. “Like a total knockout.”

“And like someone who’s about to have the best birthday ever,” Maggie added with a grin.

You laughed, feeling their support buoying you. Whatever happened tonight, one thing was certain: you wouldn’t face it alone.

* * * * *

The hum of conversation and clinking glasses surrounded you as you sat at the long table, margarita in hand, trying to match your friends’ enthusiasm. The restaurant was buzzing, its warm lighting casting a golden glow over the colorful decor. Everyone you invited had arrived, chatting and laughing, and the margaritas flowed freely.

Everyone except for Glen.

You glanced at the empty seat next to you, the one you’d saved for him. Twenty minutes had passed since the reservation time, and while you’d tried to hold on to optimism, your patience was wearing thin.

The waiter approached again, balancing a notepad in one hand and a practiced smile on his face. “Are we ready to order, or would you like a little more time?”

You hesitated, glancing at your phone for what felt like the hundredth time. The screen lit up with no new notifications, just the same string of unread messages you’d sent Glen earlier.

YOU: Hey, are you on your way?

YOU: We’re already here!

YOU: Everything okay?

With a sigh, you set the phone face down on the table and nodded to the waiter. “We’re ready to order.”

As everyone began calling out their selections, your mind wandered. Glen had canceled dinner with you last night, and now he was a no-show for your birthday dinner without even a text to explain. You tried to shake off the pang of disappointment creeping into your chest, but it lingered. You couldn’t help but wonder how much you really meant to him if he couldn’t be bothered to show up for this.

The waiter left with your table’s orders, but the mood around you was still light and cheerful—at least for everyone else. You swirled the straw in your margarita, staring at the melting ice as your friends chatted around you.

You glanced down at your phone again, lighting up the screen. Still nothing. Your chest tightened with a mix of frustration and disappointment.

“Okay, that’s it,” Maggie said suddenly, pulling your attention away from your phone. She folded her arms, giving you a knowing look. “Hand it over.”

“What?” you blinked, startled.

“Your phone. Give it to me.” Maggie held out her hand, her expression leaving no room for argument.

You frowned, clutching your phone tighter. “Maggie, come on, I’m fine. I’m just—”

“Obsessing,” she interrupted. “You’re obsessing, and it’s driving you crazy. Glen’s not here, and if you spend the rest of the night staring at your phone, waiting for him to magically show up, you’re going to miss all the fun. So, hand it over.”

Taylor leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she watched you with an amused smile. “She’s got a point. You’re spiraling, babe.”

You let out a sigh, holding your phone against your chest. “He probably got caught up with something. You know how busy he is—he’s always working or—”

“Or going to parties for his co-stars,” Maggie cut in, her tone sharper than before. “Yeah, we know. And yet somehow, he still managed to ditch your birthday dinner. I’m sorry, but that’s not okay.”

Taylor raised her eyebrows, backing her up. “Mags is right. This isn’t about work, and you know it. You don’t need to make excuses for him.”

You hesitated, the sting of their words hitting harder than you expected. “I’m not making excuses,” you said quietly, though even you didn’t sound convinced.

“Babe, you are,” Maggie said, her tone softening slightly. “I get it, okay? You care about him. But he’s not here. And we are. So stop letting him ruin your night and let me take the damn phone.”

You bit your lip, glancing between Maggie’s outstretched hand and your phone. The last thing you wanted was to let Glen off the hook, but part of you still hoped he’d show up. That maybe he had a good reason for being late. That maybe—

“Mags is right,” Taylor said, leaning back in her chair with a sigh, crossing her arms in a way that said she wasn’t budging on this. “You need to forget about him for now. Besides, you know he’s going to show up tomorrow and flash that stupid grin of his, and you’ll forgive him in a second.”

The words hit harder than expected, and a small laugh escaped from the table, though it wasn’t as lighthearted as it should’ve been. Everyone was looking at you, their eyes full of sympathy, but the teasing tone only made you feel more exposed. Your face flushed, and you fiddled with the edge of your napkin, not wanting to meet their eyes.

“I don’t—” you started, but your voice wavered.

You didn’t want to admit it out loud, but deep down, you knew Taylor was probably right. You’d forgiven him before. The way he could flash that charming smile, act like nothing happened, and suddenly, all would be forgiven. You hated that it worked on you, every time.

Maggie raised her eyebrows at you, a knowing smile on her face. “What? You think we don’t see it? Girl, you always forgive him.” She leaned forward, her hands clasped together on the table as she tilted her head, her tone softening a little. “You care about him, but right now, he's not here. And you deserve better than waiting around for someone who’s too busy to show up for you on your birthday.”

You didn’t have a response for that, not immediately. Part of you wanted to defend him, explain that there had to be a reason, but then you realized—he hadn’t even sent a text. Not a word, not a single message to let you know he was running late.

“You know, you’re right,” you said quietly, the sting of the truth washing over you like a cold wave. “I always forgive him, no matter how much he lets me down.” You forced a laugh, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

Maggie’s smile softened, and she nudged you gently with her shoulder. “Because you want to see the best in him. But right now? You need to let go and stop thinking about him. Just for tonight.”

Taylor, always the playful one, smirked and added, “Let’s be real here. He’s gonna show up tomorrow, all sorry and sweet, and you’re gonna melt, like you always do.” She winked.

That earned another small laugh from the rest of the table, but you felt your cheeks burn. You could feel the heat rise up your neck, the familiar twinge of embarrassment that always crept in when they were right.

“I’m not that predictable,” you mumbled, even though you knew it wasn’t true. Your friends had seen you with Glen enough times to know exactly how you’d react.

“You are, and it’s adorable,” Maggie said with a smirk. “But for now, let me take care of this for you.” Before you could protest, Maggie reached over and snatched your phone out of your hands with the speed of a ninja, tucking it safely into her purse before you even had a chance to stop her.

“Hey!” you protested, reaching out instinctively. “That’s mine!”

Maggie looked at you, her expression all business. “Not anymore, it’s not. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.” She grinned, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “We’re here to celebrate you, not him. So, no more phone checking, no more waiting around. Tonight is about you, birthday girl.”

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, a part of you appreciated her determination. The thought of not having that distraction tugging at you was oddly comforting.

“Fine,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’ll try to have fun. But if he doesn’t show up tomorrow—”

Maggie held up her hands in mock surrender. “Don’t worry. We’ll deal with that when it comes. For now, focus on the people who are actually here, okay?”

Taylor raised her glass. “Exactly! We’re going to make sure you forget about him. For tonight, you get to be the center of attention.”

A slow smile crept across your face as you lifted your own glass. “I guess I can get on board with that.”

And just like that, the conversation shifted back to lighter topics. But even as they joked around, you couldn’t help but wonder: Would you really be able to forget about him?

The night had shifted. After a couple of drinks, some terrible karaoke performances, and endless rounds of laughter that made your stomach ache, you finally felt yourself beginning to relax.

The weight of Glen’s no-show was still there, lingering like a stubborn cloud, but your friends had done a good job of distracting you. You sat at the back of the dive bar in a cozy booth, the group of friends scattered around you, making the most of your birthday despite the slight disappointment that had marred the night.

“Okay, but if you’re telling me that was your best dance move, I might need to revoke your birthday privileges,” Taylor teased, nudging you with her elbow as she leaned back in the booth. She was a little tipsy now, her cheeks flushed and her grin wide. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’ll have you know that was art,” you teased back, rolling your eyes but feeling lighter than you had when you first arrived.

The night had gotten progressively easier to bear. It wasn’t the dinner with Glen you’d hoped for, but your friends were here, and you knew they wouldn’t let you wallow for long. You took another sip of your drink and leaned back, letting yourself enjoy the music, the chatter, and the familiar, laid-back vibe of the dive bar. It was the kind of place where time seemed to stand still, and no one cared what anyone else was doing.

Just as you were about to reply to another one of Taylor’s jokes, you noticed Maggie was starting to make her way to the bar, probably to grab another round. You were about to call out to her when your gaze shifted, locking onto a figure that made your heart skip.

Glen.

You could see him scanning the room, his tall frame immediately standing out from the crowd. He was wearing that familiar smirk, the one that made you feel both crazy and happy at the same time. Your stomach tightened, and even though you were trying to enjoy the night, the disappointment washed over you again.

But then, something unexpected happened. Maggie, who’d been walking toward the bar, paused as she caught sight of Glen. Without missing a beat, she took a few steps toward him, intercepting his path just before he could make it toward your table. You could see her arms cross, her posture shifting into one of those rare, no-nonsense stances she had when she was about to call someone out.

You couldn’t hear the conversation from across the room, but you could see the way Glen’s smile faltered as Maggie leaned in. Her body language was firm, her expression serious. Glen’s hands went up, trying to appease her, but Maggie wasn’t backing down.

After a few moments of what seemed like intense conversation, Maggie pointed over her shoulder toward your booth. Glen glanced over, his gaze immediately landing on you. His face softened, but Maggie quickly cut him off, saying something else before gesturing toward the door.

GLEN’S P.O.V.

Glen was halfway to the booth when something—or someone—stopped him cold. He turned to see Maggie, of all people, standing in his path, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. She didn’t look pleased.

“Look, I get it,” he started, trying to brush past her with a smile, but she was having none of it.

“Do you?” Maggie’s voice was sharp, her tone cutting through the music and chatter of the bar. She didn’t give him an inch, holding her ground.

“Yeah,” he said, his smile faltering. He had hoped tonight would go smoother, but as soon as he bailed on dinner last night, he knew he was going to have to face this. “I know I messed up, okay? But it wasn’t like I didn’t want to be there—things just...came up.”

Maggie didn’t flinch, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. “You know better than this, Glen,” she said, voice firm. “She’s been waiting for you, and you cancel on her, then don’t even bother to show up for her dinner tonight. You can’t just waltz in here like nothing happened.”

Glen’s gaze softened. He could feel his stomach twist with guilt. He should’ve been there for you—he knew that. But in the back of his mind, he was still rationalizing everything, trying to make it make sense.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I swear, I’ll make it right. Just—let me talk to her.”

Maggie’s eyes narrowed further, and she leaned in, lowering her voice as if she wanted only him to hear. “She better have your full attention tonight, or you can turn around and leave. No excuses, no more half-assed apologies. She’s been let down enough by you already.” Glen opened his mouth to respond, but Maggie wasn’t finished. She jabbed a finger toward the door, a clear, no-nonsense gesture that left no room for negotiation. “You get it right tonight, or I’ll make sure she never gives you another chance.”

Glen’s stomach dropped, the weight of Maggie’s words sinking in. He was used to being the charming, smooth-talking guy who could talk his way out of things. But this? This was different. Maggie wasn’t just looking out for her friend—she was looking out for someone who deserved better than his latest screw-up.

“Alright,” Glen said, nodding, his voice tight. “I get it.”

Maggie gave a single, sharp nod, satisfied, before turning on her heel. Glen watched her walk back to the table and, for the first time all night, felt the real pressure of the situation. He couldn’t screw this up again. Not with you. Not tonight.

He swallowed hard, steeling himself for what came next.

YOUR P.O.V. AGAIN

Maggie came back to your table just moments later, her face a mix of amusement and mild annoyance.

“Well,” she said, dropping into the booth next to you, “he knows he’s going to have some explaining to do. But I think he got the message.”

You blinked at her, trying to mask the surge of conflicting emotions that had hit you all at once. “What did you say to him?”

Maggie took a long sip of her drink, not missing a beat. “Told him it’s not cool to bail on you like that, especially not when you’re trying to celebrate your birthday.”

You stared at her, a little wide-eyed, unsure if you should feel relieved or mad. Part of you felt grateful for Maggie’s boldness in standing up for you, but another part felt like you should’ve been the one to confront him. But that didn’t matter now.

“Well,” Taylor said from across the booth, glancing over at you with a grin, “at least he knows he has to earn his way back into the birthday girl’s good graces. If he’s smart, he’ll make tonight all about you. And then maybe he’ll show up tomorrow with a damn good explanation—and maybe a gift.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the weight in your chest starting to lighten. You weren’t sure what was going to happen with Glen. You weren’t even sure what you wanted to happen.

Glen took a deep breath, steeling himself as he made his way toward your booth. His heart hammered in his chest, his mind racing with a mix of regret and nervous anticipation. The guilt from the previous night was still fresh, but this—this was his chance to make things right.

As Glen neared the booth, your eyes locked onto his. You straightened your posture, resisting the urge to immediately brighten at the sight of him. Instead, you leaned back slightly, arms crossed, attempting to project an air of indifference.

"Decided to show up, huh?" you quipped, your tone light but edged with subtle annoyance.

Glen paused, his lips tugging into that familiar, crooked smile—the one that always seemed to chip away at your resolve. “Of course I did,” he replied smoothly, his voice warm but tinged with something softer, almost hesitant. “You didn’t think I’d let you have all the fun without me, did you?”

You raised an eyebrow, determined not to let him off the hook so easily. “Could’ve fooled me,” you shot back, your words casual but pointed. “I mean, you’re only—what? Several hours late?”

The flicker of guilt in his expression gave you a small sense of satisfaction, but before you could revel in it, Glen crossed the final steps to you and, without warning, wrapped you in a bone-crushing hug.

“Wait—Glen, I—” you started to protest, but the words dissolved as his arms tightened around you, pulling you against him. His embrace was warm, firm, and so familiar that it disarmed every wall you’d been trying to build in those few seconds. Despite yourself, you melted into him, your hands sliding up to rest against his back, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

The scent of him washed over you, and you felt your resolve crumble. There was a comfort in his presence, a steady reassurance that you didn’t realize how much you’d missed until now.

“I’m sorry,” Glen murmured, his voice low and close to your ear. “I shouldn’t have missed dinner. I shouldn’t have been late. That was on me, and I know I messed up.”

You wanted to stay annoyed, to hold onto the frustration that had simmered since the night before, but the sincerity in his tone—paired with the way his arms tightened around you like he couldn’t bear to let go—made it impossible.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip. “I mean it,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “I’ve put my phone on Do Not Disturb. Tonight is all about you, and I’m not going to screw it up again. No distractions, no excuses. Just you.”

For a moment, you stared at him, torn between wanting to push him away and wanting to pull him closer. “You’ve got a lot to make up for,” you muttered, your voice lacking the bite you’d intended.

“I know. And I promise I will.”

He gave you a quick squeeze before letting go, and you couldn’t help but feel the absence of his warmth as he stepped back, his smile now tinged with that boyish charm that always made it hard to stay mad at him.

With a small, tentative smile, you sat back down, Glen following suit as he slid into the booth beside you. His presence was comforting now, though the distance between the two of you would take some time to bridge fully.

It didn’t take long for your friends to start giving him a bit of a hard time, teasing him about how long it had taken him to show up. But he took it all in stride, shrugging with that playful grin of his that had always been hard to resist. He made light of the situation, joking that Maggie had given him a “talk” that was definitely more intimidating than any red carpet interview he’d ever done. The table erupted in laughter, and you couldn’t help but chuckle too.

Glen fit in like he’d always been a part of the group. He didn’t just charm you—he charmed everyone. Your friends, the boyfriends, the husbands—everyone seemed at ease with him, and for the first time tonight, you felt a bit of the tension dissolve. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good. You were starting to enjoy yourself again.

“You know,” Maggie said, her voice cutting through the chatter as she leaned toward you, “I never thought I’d see the day, but I think Glen’s actually winning me over.” Her teasing smile made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t deny that there was something endearing about the way he was engaging with everyone.

Glen grinned, clearly pleased by the compliment. “Well, I aim to please,” he said smoothly, sending a wink Maggie’s way before turning to Taylor’s boyfriend, Lucas, who had just shared a funny story about a mishap at work. Glen jumped right into the conversation, laughing along with the group, and before long, the entire table was at ease, chatting, laughing, and passing around drinks.

As the evening progressed, your glass had been refilled a few times, and the warmth from the drinks had made you a little looser, more relaxed. But you could feel the buzz starting to hit you, the tipsy weight settling in, and you knew it was probably time to call it a night soon.

A voice from the other side of the table broke through your thoughts. “Another round, anyone?” Lucas asked, his hand raised toward the bartender.

You smiled but shook your head, giving a small chuckle. “I think I’m good for now,” you said, but your voice was a bit more playful than you intended. “I need to slow down if I’m getting myself home tonight.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Glen’s gaze snapped to you. His brow furrowed for a moment before his lips curled into a smirk. “Oh no, no, no,” he said, shaking his head as he placed his hand on your arm in a gentle but firm way. “Not happening. I’m not letting you drive after all that tequila. I’m driving you home tonight.”

Your eyes widened for a moment, surprised at his sudden offer. “You’re taking me home?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “

“Yeah, me.” Glen replied smoothly, his voice playful. “I’ll make sure you get home safe and sound.”

You glanced over at your friends, who were all nodding in agreement, clearly amused by Glen’s sudden shift into ‘knight in shining armor.’ You couldn’t help but smile a little, the warmth from the alcohol making the whole situation feel lighter.

“Alright, fine,” you said with a sigh, giving him a playful look.

The night had started winding down, the boisterous laughter and endless rounds of drinks giving way to softer conversations and a general sense of contentment. You leaned back in the booth, your cheeks warm from the tequila and the laughter that had filled the evening. The air in the bar felt a little heavier now, and you knew it was time to call it a night.

Maggie glanced at her phone and let out a low whistle. “Alright, it’s officially way past my bedtime,” she said, sliding out of the booth. “You’re lucky we love you, or I wouldn’t still be out at this hour.”

You grinned at her, your head buzzing just enough to make your movements feel slower. “I appreciate your sacrifice, Mags.”

One by one, your friends began gathering their things, exchanging hugs and goodbyes. Glen stood off to the side, his hands in his pockets, patiently waiting while you said your farewells.

Taylor, always the protective one, lingered a little longer. She turned toward Glen, her expression a mix of playful and serious. “You’d better take care of her, Hollywood” she said, jabbing a finger in his direction.

Glen raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin on his face. “I’ve got her.”

Taylor narrowed her eyes at him, clearly still skeptical, but you stepped in before she could say anything else. “Taylor, I’m fine. He’s fine. Stop trying to scare him.”

“I don’t scare that easily,” Glen quipped, but his tone was lighthearted, and even Taylor cracked a smile as she gave you one last hug.

With the goodbyes finally wrapped up, you turned back toward Glen, feeling a little unsteady on your feet as you grabbed your jacket.

“Okay, let’s go,” you said, your voice softer now, the buzz of the evening starting to settle into a tired warmth.

Glen didn’t say a word, just stepped closer and gently placed his arm around your shoulders. The gesture felt surprisingly natural, his hand resting lightly as he steered you toward the door. You could feel the heat of his touch through the fabric of your jacket, grounding you as the two of you walked out of the bar.

The cool night air hit your face as you stepped outside, and you breathed it in deeply, relishing the way it sobered you just slightly. Glen’s arm stayed firmly around you as he led you to his truck parked just down the block.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, glancing down at you, his voice soft against the quiet of the night.

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, I did,” you admitted, your voice a little hazy but sincere. “Even if you did crash the party.”

He chuckled, his grip on you tightening just slightly as if to steady you. “Is it crashing when I was invited?”

“It is when you show up late. Maggie had basically uninvited you, you know?”

Glen laughed softly, the sound warm and deep in the stillness of the night. “Maggie never liked me much anyway,” he teased. “Pretty sure she was just looking for an excuse.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “That’s because she thinks you’re too cocky for your own good.”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Well, she’s not wrong. But if memory serves, you kind of like that about me.”

You snorted, pretending to be unimpressed, but your smile gave you away. “Maybe I’ve just gotten used to it.”

Glen stopped walking for a moment, pulling you gently to a halt as well. His hand slid from your arm to your lower back, steadying you as you swayed slightly on your feet. “Used to it, huh?” he murmured, his tone playfully skeptical. “Guess I’ll take that as a win.”

You glanced up at him, the soft glow of a streetlamp illuminating the curve of his jaw and the faint stubble dusting his skin. “Don’t let it go to your head,” you warned, though the faint smile tugging at your lips betrayed the sharpness of your words.

He grinned, leaning in just enough to close the distance between you. “Too late.”

Before you could respond, he began walking again, his arm still snug around your waist. The rhythm of your steps fell into an easy cadence, and the quiet between you felt comforting rather than awkward.

As his truck came into view, Glen broke the silence. “So, Maggie’s got her opinions about me,” he said, his tone light but curious. “What about you? Think I’m too cocky for my own good?”

You glanced at him sideways, your expression caught somewhere between teasing and genuine. “I think you’re...” You trailed off, pretending to give it serious thought. “Complicated.”

“Complicated?” He raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “That’s not exactly glowing praise.”

“It’s not an insult either,” you countered, shrugging. “It just means you’ve got layers.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You make me sound like an onion.”

You laughed, your voice light and unguarded. “Maybe. But onions can be sweet, too.”

By the time you reached the truck, Glen had that playful smirk back on his face, but there was something softer in his gaze as he looked at you. He opened the passenger door, his hand brushing your arm lightly as he helped you climb in.

“Sweet, huh?” he murmured as you settled into the seat. “I’ll take that.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth blooming in your chest was impossible to ignore.

The truck came into view, and Glen pulled his arm away just long enough to open the passenger door for you. He held out his hand to help you climb in, his touch steady and warm.

“Alright,” he said once you were settled in. “Let’s get you home.”

You leaned back in the seat, your head resting lightly against the window as you watched him round the front of the truck to the driver’s side. There was something about the quiet way he moved, the care he took in making sure you were okay, that made the lingering frustration in your chest soften just a little more.

As the engine roared to life and the truck pulled away from the curb, you couldn’t help but glance over at him, a thousand thoughts swirling in your tequila-clouded mind.

The hum of the truck’s engine filled the quiet as Glen drove through the mostly empty streets, the city lights casting faint shadows on your face. You felt the tequila working its way through your system, loosening your thoughts and your tongue. The warmth in your chest wasn’t just from the alcohol—it was Glen’s presence, steady and comforting, that made you feel safer than you wanted to admit.

You glanced over at him, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. “You know something?” you said softly, your words slurring ever so slightly.

“What’s that?” Glen asked, his eyes flicking toward you briefly before returning to the road.

“I think you might be my favorite person,” you admitted, leaning your head against the window and smiling to yourself. The words felt easy, natural, like they’d been sitting on the tip of your tongue for years.

Glen let out a low chuckle, glancing at you again with an amused expression. “Your favorite person, huh? That’s a big title to hand out. What about Maggie? Or Taylor?”

You rolled your eyes, though the smile stayed on your lips. “I’m serious,” you insisted, turning your head to look at him. “You’ve always been there for me. You show up when it matters. Well, except for last night.” The teasing lilt in your voice faltered at the end, the weight of your lingering disappointment creeping back in.

Glen’s playful smirk softened, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “About last night—”

You cut him off with a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “It’s... I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said firmly, glancing at you again. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

You hesitated, your fingers twisting in your lap. The alcohol buzzed in your veins, giving you just enough courage to let the words slip out before you could stop them. “All I want is for you to look at me the way you look at her.”

Glen’s brows furrowed as he processed your words. “Her? What are you talking about?”

You huffed, leaning back against the seat and avoiding his gaze. “Alanna. Last night. You were looking at her like she hung the moon or something.”

His confusion deepened as he shook his head. “I wasn’t—wait, you saw those pictures? You think I—”

“Forget it,” you muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” Glen said, his tone insistent now. He glanced at you, his voice softening. “Hey, talk to me. Please.”

You bit your lip, debating whether to keep the rest of it bottled up or just let it out. Before you could second-guess yourself, the words spilled out in a rush. “I love you, Glen.” The air in the truck seemed to still, your confession hanging heavily between you. You didn’t stop, the floodgates open now. “I love you, and I hate it. I hate that I feel this way because you’re... you’re the total package, Glen. And I’m just... me. You’re way out of my league, and it’s stupid, and I wish I didn’t feel this way, but I do.”

For a moment, Glen didn’t say anything, his silence deafening. Then, he let out a light laugh, shaking his head. “Okay, you’ve definitely had too much to drink. You’re just saying that because you’re tipsy.”

His attempt at brushing it off felt like a slap, and your chest tightened painfully. You laughed bitterly, though it sounded more like a choke. “Right. I’m just drunk.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” Glen said quickly, his tone shifting to concern.

“It’s fine,” you said sharply, turning to stare out the window, your body stiff with regret. “Just take me home. Please.”

Glen opened his mouth to say something else, but the set line of your jaw and the way you refused to look at him made him think better of it. The rest of the drive was silent, the easy warmth from earlier replaced by a tense, aching quiet.

When Glen pulled into your driveway, you were already unbuckling your seatbelt and reaching for the door handle, eager to put some distance between you and the awkwardness still hanging in the air.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said quickly, your voice clipped as you stepped out of the truck. You didn’t wait for him to respond before heading toward your front door, your keys jingling in your shaky hand.

“Hey, wait up,” Glen called, catching up to you in a few long strides.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, fumbling with your keys. “You don’t need to come in. It’s late. You should go.”

Glen’s hand gently closed over yours, stilling your movements. “Hold on a second.”

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to see the pity or confusion—or worse, the rejection—in his eyes.

“What?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You said you love me,” Glen said, his voice equally soft but steady. “Did you mean it?”

You let out a strained laugh, trying to tug your hand free. “Like you said, I’ve had too much to drink. Don’t read into it, okay?”

“Stop,” he said, his tone firmer now. He stepped closer, his presence warm and steady. “Don’t brush it off. I need to know. Did you mean it?”

Your throat tightened as tears prickled behind your eyes. You swallowed hard, shaking your head as if that could somehow make the whole moment disappear. But Glen wasn’t letting go—not of your hand, not of this conversation.

“Fine. Yes I meant it,” you finally bit out, your voice trembling. “I do love you. Happy now?” You felt the tears welling up, threatening to spill over as you stared down at the ground, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. “It doesn’t matter, Glen. You don’t have to say anything. Just... let’s forget this, okay?”

Glen didn’t let you retreat. Instead, his hand tilted your chin up, gently forcing you to meet his eyes. His expression wasn’t one of pity or discomfort—it was something softer, something that made your breath catch.

“You think that’s a bad thing?” he asked quietly, his thumb brushing lightly along your jaw.

You blinked, stunned by the question. “What?”

Glen took a small step closer, closing the space between you. “You think loving me is a bad thing?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out.

“I’ve liked you for a while now,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t…I was scared you didn’t feel the same way, and I didn’t want to risk losing you.”

Your breath hitched as he reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch was so gentle, so tender, that it made your heart ache.

Impulsively, you leaned in, closing the distance between you and Glen. But before your lips could meet, he gently stopped you, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders to keep you from leaning in further.

“Not like this,” he said softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You frowned, your cheeks flushing. “Why not?”

Glen chuckled, his thumb brushing lightly over your shoulder. “Because you’ve been drinking. And I don’t want our first kiss to be something you regret or something you can blame on tequila.”

You pouted, the alcohol in your system making your emotions harder to control. “I wouldn’t regret it.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” he said, his smile growing as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “But I want it to happen when you’re sober. When you’re completely sure about what you want.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

Glen laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah, I’ve been told.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “We’ll talk more in the morning, okay? Get some rest.”

You sighed, but a small smile tugged at your lips as you nodded. “Fine.”

“Goodnight, munchkin,” he said, his voice warm.

He took a few steps down the path toward his truck, hands shoved deep into his pockets. But something in the air stopped you, a shift in the quiet between you both that pulled you back.

“Glen?” Your voice came out more fragile than you intended, halting him in his tracks.

He turned, brows furrowing in mild confusion. “Yeah?”

You shifted your weight nervously, feeling the weight of the moment. “Would you... stay? I mean, just for tonight. On the couch,” you added, the words tumbling out faster than you'd meant.

His brow raised, caught off guard. Then a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, soft and understanding. “Are you sure?”

Heat rushed to your face, and you swallowed. “Yeah, I just—” you glanced down, unsure how to explain. “I’d feel better with you here. That’s all.”

He studied you for a moment, then took a step back toward you, his smile gentle but sincere. “Okay,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll stay.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, offering him a small, grateful smile.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Glen said as he put a hand on your back and guided you through the dimly lit hallway.

“You don’t have to,” you murmured, your words a little slurred as you swayed on your feet. “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are,” Glen said with a teasing smile, but his tone was gentle, careful, as though he was holding back. “But humor me, okay?”

You reached your bedroom, and he paused just inside the doorway, his hand still warm at the small of your back. He lingered there for a moment, watching you with an unreadable expression. “Think you can manage, or do you need some help?”

You nodded, though your movements weren’t exactly graceful. A soft chuckle escaped Glen’s lips as he crouched down and carefully removed your shoes, setting them neatly to the side as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I’ve got it,” you said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and fumbling with your jacket, your fingers a little uncooperative.

“Uh-huh,” Glen replied, his gaze never leaving you. His eyes softened as he watched you struggle with the zipper for a moment before he stepped closer, his hands moving with a calm efficiency as he undid it and eased the jacket from your shoulders.

He straightened, giving you a pointed look. “Want to argue about this too, or can I just help you?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. Glen’s grin widened, and he moved to pull back the blankets, gesturing for you to lie down. You sank into the mattress, the cool sheets pressing against your warm skin like a balm. His hands were gentle as he tucked the blanket around you, slow and deliberate, as though trying to make you feel as safe and comfortable as possible.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper now.

You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as the exhaustion of the night started to pull you under. “Thanks, Glen. For… everything.”

He lingered for a moment, his gaze soft, his eyes searching your face as if trying to memorize the moment. Then, his fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead, warm against your skin.

“Get some rest,” he murmured. “I’ll be right out here if you need anything.”

He straightened, his presence still warm in the room even as he moved toward the door. He pulled it halfway shut behind him, the sound almost imperceptible. You barely had time to notice before sleep claimed you, his presence lingering like a comforting weight, filling the quiet space with an unspoken promise.

* * * * *

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the cocoon of blankets wrapped snugly around you, a comfort you didn’t remember arranging for yourself. Blinking against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, you took a moment to orient yourself.

The events of the night before came rushing back in fragments—Your confession, Glen’s confession, your own vulnerability.

With a groan, you rolled onto your side, pressing your face into the pillow. Embarrassment washed over you in waves, but it was tempered by something softer: the memory of Glen tilting your chin, his thumb brushing your jaw, and his quiet admission that he’d been in love with you for a while.

Pushing yourself up, you padded out of your room, your footsteps quiet on the hardwood floor. You froze when you reached the living room.

Glen was sprawled out on the couch, his long frame somehow folded in a way that almost looked comfortable. A blanket you vaguely recognized from the back of the closet was draped over him, and his face was soft with sleep, his features relaxed and boyish. His arm rested on his chest, rising and falling in time with his even breaths.

Your heart squeezed, a rush of warmth and affection flooding through you. For a moment, you just stood there, watching him, your lips curving into a small smile.

Shaking your head, you tore your gaze away and headed to the kitchen. You busied yourself with the coffee maker, the familiar routine grounding you as your thoughts raced.

The sound of footsteps made you glance over your shoulder. Glen appeared in the doorway, his hair adorably mussed and his eyes still heavy with sleep. He leaned against the doorframe, a lazy grin tugging at his lips.

“Morning,” he said, his voice gravelly.

“Morning,” you replied, turning back to the coffee maker. You focused on pouring two mugs, hoping the act would calm the sudden flutter in your chest.

The silence that followed was heavy, charged with the weight of unspoken words. You handed him a mug, your fingers brushing his briefly, and he murmured a quiet thanks.

As you sipped your coffee, Glen set his down on the counter, crossing his arms as he leaned back against it. His gaze was steady, unwavering, and it made your stomach flip.

“So,” he began, his tone casual but his eyes serious, “are we going to talk about last night?”

You stiffened, your grip tightening around your mug. “What about it?” you asked, your voice a little too light, a little too forced.

Glen arched a brow. “You know what I’m talking about.”

You sighed, setting your mug down on the counter with a soft clink. “I think I made a fool of myself, and I’d rather just pretend it didn’t happen.”

His expression softened, and he took a step closer. “You didn’t make a fool of yourself.”

You avoided his gaze, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Look…I said a lot of things I probably shouldn’t have.”

“You mean the part where you said you love me?” he asked, his voice gentle.

Your head snapped up, your cheeks flushing. “Glen—”

“Because if you did mean it,” he interrupted, his tone earnest, “then we really need to talk about it.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his gaze making it impossible to look away. “I... I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just—last night, it all came out. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Glen’s lips quirked into a small smile. “You seemed pretty clear to me.”

“Glen,” you said, exasperation creeping into your tone. “This is exactly what I was afraid of. I don’t want to ruin what we have. I can’t lose you. And I can already tell that things are different. You’re being all weird about it.”

He stepped closer, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. “You’re not going to lose me,” he said firmly. “But we can’t just ignore this.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. “What if this changes everything?”

Glen reached out, his fingers brushing yours. “Maybe it’s supposed to,” he said softly.

The honesty in his eyes, the quiet strength in his words—it made your chest ache. You wanted to believe him, to trust that taking this leap wouldn’t send you crashing to the ground.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice trembling. “Let’s talk.”

A slow, relieved smile spread across his face. “Good. Because there’s a lot I need to say.”

“Why don’t you start? What do I need to know about what you said last night?” He asked.

Your heart pounded as you scrambled for something coherent to say. “I, uh… I wasn’t sure if we needed to… I mean…”

Glen’s amused chuckle cut through your nervous rambling, and you looked up to see his familiar grin. His hazel green eyes softened as he stepped closer, plucking the mug from your hands and setting it on the counter.

“Hey,” he said gently, tilting his head to catch your gaze. “Relax. You’re overthinking this. It’s just me. Just talk to me.”

You swallowed hard, trying to tamp down the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “I just don’t know if you—if we’re—”

Glen interrupted again, this time by pulling you into a warm, steady hug. His arms wrapped around you like they belonged there, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

“Okay let’s try something else. I meant everything I said last night,” he murmured, his voice low and steady near your ear. “Did you?”

“Yes.” You hesitated, your cheek pressed against his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against your own. “But…where does that leave us?”

Glen pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders. His expression was earnest, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something deeper, more serious.

“I’d like to see where this goes,” he said simply, his tone confident yet careful. “If you’re okay with that.”

Your chest tightened, warmth spreading through you like sunlight breaking through clouds. “I’d like that too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

A slow smile spread across Glen’s face, one that made your knees feel a little weaker. He reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

“Good,” he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek.

Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, he leaned in. You met him halfway, your lips finding his in a kiss that was both familiar and completely new. It wasn’t rushed or hesitant, just easy and natural, like it had always been meant to happen.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against his, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. “So… does this mean you think you’re officially off the hook for last night?”

Glen chuckled, his hands sliding down to your waist. “I don’t know about that. I think I’m gonna have to work a little harder to earn full forgiveness.”

You smirked, your hands resting lightly on his chest. “You’re lucky I’m a sucker for you, Glen.”

“And you’re lucky I plan on spending a lot of time making the last few days up to you,” he replied, his tone playful but his eyes shining with sincerity.

Before you could come up with a witty reply, Glen’s expression shifted, the teasing glimmer in his eyes giving way to something more intense. He leaned in again, his hand cupping your cheek as his lips pressed to yours.

This kiss was different—deeper, more deliberate. Your heart skipped a beat as warmth bloomed in your chest. Without thinking, your arms lifted, wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer, as if letting go wasn’t an option.

Glen’s hands slid to your waist, his touch firm yet careful, grounding you as he gently pulled you against him. The world around you seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet kitchen, bathed in soft morning light.

When the kiss finally broke, you stayed close, your forehead resting against his as you both caught your breath. A faint smile tugged at Glen’s lips, and his thumb brushed lightly against your jaw.

As the morning light filtered through the kitchen window, the air between you felt lighter, filled with the promise of something new and exciting. Whatever came next, you had a feeling it was going to be worth the wait.

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction #Glen Powell x reader #Glen Powell x you

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koiiiji · 5 months ago

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lookism x reader. between takes

summary ; lookism actually is a series, and all guys are just actors, same as you, so you happen to meet with them backstage.

starring ; seongji, jungoo, jongun, gimyong

SEONGJI x demon!reader

the bustling film set was alive with energy. you were taking a break from your role, when you spotted Seongji Yook across the lot. his team was filming scenes for “lookism,” in the mountains of cheongliang too. you couldn't help but smile at the sight of your friend. Seongji noticed you and waved, making his way over with a grin. “nice horns. going for a new look?”

you laughed, adjusting your tail. “just trying something different. how’s the day going on your end?” he shrugged, glancing at his hands and feet. “i feel kinda weird with this,” he said, gesturing to the fake extra finger on each hand and foot.

“really?” you asked ironically, pointing at your demoniacal makeup, horns on your forehead and the tail behind you. “i think we’re both quite the spectacle here”

as you both found a quiet spot to sit, the conversation flowed easily. you talked about your roles, shared behind-the-scenes stories, and teased each other about your costumes.

“you make a pretty convincing demon,” Seongji said, his tone teasing yet sincere. “i’d say you’re stealing the show.”

“thanks, but i think you’re the real star,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “i saw you on set, your scenes have been incredible, your appearance in “lookism” will blow the whole show.”

there was a comfortable silence, the kind only shared between good friends. yet beneath it, there was an unspoken tension, that nobody dared to speak about. Seongji leaned back, watching the crew set up for the next scene. “you know, i’ve always admired how dedicated you are to your roles.”

your heart skipped a beat, his words feeling more personal than casual. “thank you, Seongji, i really appreciate it!”

and before you knew it, the break was over, and you both had to return to your sets. as you stood, Seongji hesitated for a moment. “hey, maybe we could grab dinner after filming wraps up?”

the invitation hung in the air, filled with possibilities. “i’d like that,” you replied, trying to contain your excitement.

with a shared smile, you parted ways, the encounter leaving you with a sense of anticipation.

JUNGOO x pirate!reader

cozy coffee shop was bustling with the morning crowd. you felt a bit out of place in your full pirate costume — with oversized shirt, high knee boots and tight corset, complete with a big hat adorned with feathers and all small accessories everywhere. your team took a break from filming, you all needed a caffeine boost. as you waited for your order, the door chimed, and in walked Jungoo Kim. you heard that his team filming “lookism” somewhere near your location. his costume torn in some spots and covered in fake blood, his skin in bruises from a fight scene and hair is messy. despite his rough appearance, he carried himself with his usual charismatic confidence.

your eyes met briefly, and you both did a double take. you recognized him instantly — you kinda were his fan, he is an actor you secretly admired and respected.

he recognized you as well, approaching with a playful grin, trying to play it cool. “ahoy there, captain,” he called out with a playful grin as he sauntered over. “looking for treasure, or have you already stolen it with that outfit?”

you laughed, tipping your hat. “just trying to keep myself and the crew in line.” you smiled, waving your head to the side where your set colleagues were sitting, feeling your cheeks warm. “and what about you, mister criminal? fighting off enemies before breakfast?”

Jungoo smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. “thought i’d see if the rumors were true about a captivating pirate queen causing a stir. seems they were right.”

you leaned back on the counter, smiling conspiratorially at him, playing along with his little performance, “ah, so you're not here by chance, and it's you the one who are looking for treasure here” you smiled teasingly, lifting your chin, the feathers on your hat trembled slightly.

“well, you caught me,” he chuckled, eyes twinkling. “i do have a knack for looking for treasures. maybe i should join your crew — think you could handle the competition?”

“only if you promise not to steal my spotlight,” you bantered back, imagining him in a tricorn hat and boots.

Jungoo leaned closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “i promise to keep the spotlight firmly on you. though, i might steal a dance from the captain.”

the playful exchange left you smiling, and you found yourself enjoying his company more than expected.

“i have to admit, i’ve been a fan of your work for a while,” he confessed, suddenly trying to sound nonchalant. “your performances are always captivating.”

surprised and flattered, you replied, “really? i’ve been following your career too. your fight scenes with sword are legendary.”

but as the director burst into the cafe and barked at everyone, urging them to return to set to start filming, Jungoo offered you a wink. “break a leg, captain. i’ll be here to catch you if you fall.”

with a wave, you returned to your role, feeling a bit more buoyant from the encounter.

JONGUN x black swan!reader

film studio was a maze of sets and props, buzzing with activity. you were navigating the corridors, adjusting to the thick black eye lenses you wore for your role as the black swan in upcoming film. they made everything difficult to see, but the effect was stunning on camera.

as you carefully made your way to the break room, you suddenly collided with someone. the impact, unexpected and strong, caused you to lose your balance and fall.

“whoa!” a deep voice exclaimed. you found yourself looking up at Park Jongun, who was also wearing the same intense black lenses for his role on the neighbor set.

“i’m so sorry!” you said, embarrassed as you tried to regain your footing. Jongun quickly helped you up, grabbing your wrist, pulling. you to his broad chesr, a little harder then he should have. his grip steady. “no, it’s my fault. these lenses make it hard to see anything.”

“tell me about it. i’ve been bumping into everything.” you laughed softly, brushing yourself off. he glanced at your costume, noticing the contrast between your delicate ballerina attire and his all bruised and blooded body makeup. “looks like we’re playing quite opposite roles.” he said, finally losing his grip and letting you go.

“yeah,” you admitted, feeling a bit self-conscious. “i had to lose a lot of weight for this role, so i’m not exactly steady on my feet.”

Jongun offered you a charm smile. “you look incredible, though. very convincing as a ballerina.”

“thanks,” you replied, appreciating his kindness. “i’m guessing you’re the tough guy in your film?”

he nodded, a hint of pride and amusement in his voice. “yeah, shiro oni, always ready for few crazy fights. but i promise i’m not as scary in real life.”

as you continued talking, you found Jongun to be easygoing and surprisingly funny. you shared stories about your roles and the challenges of filming with these horrible jet black lenses.

“next time, we should get a guide dog,” he joked, making you laugh.

“or maybe just a cane,” you suggested, enjoying the lighthearted banter.

eventually, it was time to return to your respective sets. “it was nice bumping into you — literally. let’s try to meet again when we can actually see each other.” Jongun smiled dazzlingly again, gently clasping your wrist, and leaving a light, soft kiss your knuckles.

“deal?” he asked with a charm grin, while you stand there smiling shyly, feeling a newfound connection.

“i’d like that,” you replied, feeling grateful for the unexpected encounter. with a wave, you both headed back to work, the meeting leaving you with a smile and the possibility of a new connection.

GIMYONG x targaryen princess!reader

sun was beginning to set over the bustling film set near the sea, casting a warm glow on the neighboring sets of two popular series. one set belonged to the fantasy series where you played a targaryen princess, and the other to the hit show "lookism," where Gimyong had one of the main roles.

he had often glanced toward your set during breaks, intrigued by the regal world of dragons and thrones. he'd heard about y&u from mutual crew members and quietly admired you from afar.

but today, fate seemed to favor him. a scheduling overlap meant both productions were on a break simultaneously. seizing the opportunity, Gimyong wandered over, pretending to be curious about the elaborate set design.

as you stepped outside, still in your flowing, black gown embroidered with red and gold threads, depicting scales, tails and heads of dragons on the sleeves and collar. you saw Gimyong standing nearby, looking somewhat out of place in his black coat. classic black trousers, white shirt and loafers amidst the medieval backdrop.

“hey, aren't you from "lookism?"” you asked, recognizing him from the posters plastered around the studio. he abruptly pulled his hand away from the blue weird machine that soon will be turned into your dragon with computers cgi effects help. he beamed at you, intensively nodding. he was a bit surprised but pleased you knew of him. “yeah, i'm Gimyong. i've been curious about your set for a while. it's got quite the atmosphere.”

you smiled, appreciating his interest. “it's definitely a different world over here. i'm [y/n], by the way.”

“it's nice to finally meet you,”he said, but paused himself for a moment, glancing back at weird blue platform. he noticed once, that your team usually shoot scenes of flying on dragon's back on this thing. brilliant pick up line immediately was born in his head.

“sooo that’s supposed to be your dragon on screen, right?” he grinned, swinging onto the platform from behind, trying to play it cool, but it came out a little awkward, as you can see he is clearly nervous. you giggled softly, but decided to play along, already understanding what he was leading to.

“yes, his name is Vermithor, really huge dragon.” you elegantly covered your mouth with your hand, trying to hide a shameless smile, at Gimyong’s attempt to flirt.

“you know, im kinda dragon myself, being the son of a golden dragon… so how about safe the dragon and ride-” you couldn't let him finish the sentence, bursting into laughter from his pickup line and such a self-confident face. Gimyong was truly humongous man.

in fact, he was not confused or upset by your laughter, because in the end he amused you. his light laugh joined yours and he was happy that he made you laugh.

“no, but seriously, i’ve heard great things about your performance.”

“thank you! it’s been a dream role for me,” you replied warmly, your genuine smile still playing on your lips. “i’ve seen a few episodes of lookism — i absolutely in love with it! your character is such a gentleman.” you exclaimed admiringly, remembering all the scenes where Gimyong was filming with his 'mother', and how cheerful his character was, representing a wonderful leader.

as you talked, the conversation flowed naturally, and Gimyong felt his initial nervousness fading away. he found himself captivated not just by your talent, but by your genuine enthusiasm and kindness.

“maybe you could give me a tour of your set sometime?” Gimyong suggested, hoping to extend the conversation — and his time with you.

“i’d love that,” you replied, intrigued by the idea. “and maybe i could visit yours. i’ve always been curious about how you bring such a cool fightings to life.”

with a shared promise to explore each other’s worlds, Gimyong returned to his set with a newfound excitement. meeting you had been even better than he imagined, and he couldn't wait when you will visit his set, to show off in front of you with his skills and muscles.

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the-offside-rule · 1 year ago

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Lando Norris (McLaren) - All Over Again

Requested: yes

Prompts: 5) "If I could, I'd like to fall in love with you all over again."

48) "I love our cuddles."

49) "Stay here tonight."

Warnings: none tbh

Lando couldn't believe he was back in England, the familiar sights and sounds bringing a rush of nostalgia. He had done what he always did; gone for his morning run, ordered a hot chocolate to take away, and head on home to have his pre-made breakfast. As he strolled through the town, he couldn't help but wonder what had changed since he left for his racing career. Little did he know, he was about to encounter a significant blast from the past. He figured he may as well have a proper look around this time and so, he made his way up a side street, looking around and even spotting a few new shops.

Walking up a small street, off from his usual route, Lando's eyes widened as he spotted Y/n, the girl he had once been deeply in love with and even dated whilst he was in Formula 2. They broke up in 2020 since they both just didn't have the time and promised that if the opportunity every rose again, they would revisit it. Time seemed to freeze for a moment, and then, recognizing him, Y/n's eyes lit up with surprise and joy. "Lando? Is that really you?" She exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and excitement in her voice. He grinned. "Yeah, it's me! How have you been?" Lando asked as the pair embraced one another. "I'm good. Still on the hot chocolate or have you made the move to coffee?" She asked, pointing at the cup in Lando's hand. "I've never liked coffee and I never will. How's uni going?"

"I just finished up last year. I'm kinda just working for now until I have enough to move away." She replied. "Move away? What would make you want to do that?" Lando asked. "Well you tell me. Last I heard of you was you moved to Monaco. Very fancy." She joked. They exchanged stories, catching up on the years that had passed since they last saw each other. Laughter echoed through the air as they reminisced about old memories and shared new experiences. It was as if time hadn't dimmed the connection they once had.

Lando, felt some serious nostalgia. "I'm going to have to head now. I have some things to do. But good luck and it was lovely seeing you again." Y/n smiled. "Yeah, we should get coffee or something sometime." He replied and watched as Y/n walked past him. As she walked away, he couldn't help but think that maybe this was the time to revisit their relationship, and so, he turned and jogged back towards her to give a suggestion. "Hey, why don't you come over to my place? We can continue our conversation there." Y/n shook her head. "I have a few things to drop of to my mum's. I really can't."

"I'll come with you. I haven't seen her jn ages anyway." Y/n thought for a moment. Her mum would make such a fuss over Lando being back. She always brought Lando up, even to Y/n's last boyfriend. That conversation about Lando led to their break-up and since then she's always shrugged off any Lando conversations. "Okay fine." She said as Lando began to walk with her. "Do you want me to take something? Your hands seem full." Y/n nodded. "Please take the shopping bag. Its killing me here." Labdo laughed as he effortlessly lifted the back and hoisted it up over his shoulder. "Alright. Don't be such a show off."

Their break-up hadn't left a bitter taste, and they remained friends. The sun was shining, adding a warm glow to their amiable conversation. As they approached Y/n's mum's house, memories flooded back. Lando couldn't help but notice the nostalgia in Y/n's eyes. The door swung open before they even had a chance to knock, revealing Y/n's mum, who beamed at the sight of them. "Lando! Oh, it's been too long!" She exclaimed, enveloping Lando both in a tight hug. "Nice to see you too, Mum." Y/n mumbled as Lando grinned. "Come inside, I've just brewed some tea."

Once inside, the cozy aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the air. Y/n's mum ushered them to the living room, where memories of shared laughter echoed. They settled in, sipping tea and catching up on life. Y/n's mum couldn't help but glance between them, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And that crash in Germany last year. Dreadful." Her mum said. "It was Belgium, Mum." Y/n corrected. Labdo turned and smirked at her. "Thought you didn't keep up with F1." The last time he saw her, she didn't really. She only really watched it when she was with Lando. "I can watch it if I want." She replied, sipping her tea. "Oh, you two always made such a lovely couple. Any chance you're getting back together?" She inquired with a mischievous grin.

Y/n spat her tea into the cup, as Lando gave an amused glance towards Y/n. "No, we're just good friends now." Y/n explained with a smile. "Well, that's good to hear. I always hoped maybe one day you'll find your way back to each other." Her mum said. Lando's lips twitched into a playful grin. "You never know. We could probably..." Y/n interrupted, taking it as a cue to change the subject. "Well, Mum, we've got a few more errands to run. Thanks for the tea!" They bid Y/n's mum farewell, stepping back into the sunlight. "Smooth, Lando." Y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes at Lando's comment. "What?" Lando asked as if he didn't know what he had just done. "You always know how to keep things interesting," Y/n teased. Lando chuckled. "Hey, just keeping the possibilities open, you know?" Y/n shook her head, laughter bubbling up from deep within. "You haven't changed a bit."

Lando led the way to his new home. It was huge. Bigger than the one he grew up in and Y/n found that mental. "This is yours? Are you sure?" She asked. "Trust me, it's mine." He replied, opening the door. "There's a few boxes around the place. This is all just moving stuff. Don't mind them."

The aroma of spices and sizzling ingredients filled Lando Norris' kitchen as he worked diligently to prepare dinner for his good friend, Y/n. He hummed along to a tune playing softly in the background, feeling a sense of accomplishment in trying his hand at a new recipe.

Y/n walked around, a glass of wine in hand, looking at the photos that hung on the walls. From family photos to podium photos, she enjoyed looking at them. One in particular caught her eye. It was her at Lando's final Formula 2 race. They were all smiles and she couldn't help but feel the memories washing over her.

Just as Lando reached for a pot handle, a sudden hiss of pain escaped him. Lando winced, realizing he had touched the hot surface without protection. He quickly pulled back, shaking his hand in an attempt to soothe the sting. "Fuck." Lando muttered to himself, glancing around for a nearby kitchen towel. Y/n entered the room, drawn by the sound of his exclamation. "What happened, Lando?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. Lando winced, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, just a little mishap. I guess cooking isn't exactly my forte."

Y/n chuckled softly, gently taking his arm to examine the burn. "Let me take care of that for you." As Y/n tended to his burn, Lando couldn't help but admire her delicate touch and caring nature. His gaze lingered on her, filled with a warmth he couldn't contain. "Don't look at me like that." Y/n said softly, catching Lando's gaze. Lando smirked teasingly. "Like what?" Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "You know exactly what I mean." He shrugged. "Have no idea what you mean." Rolling her eyes again, Y/n suggested, "How about I do the cooking, and you just help grab things when I need them?" Lando nodded.

As Y/n stired some pasta around in the pot, she jumped upon hearing music. "Oh, sorry. Too loud." Labdo mumbled as he turned the volume down on a speaker nearby. "Why are you playing Put Your Records On?" She asked. "I like it. You like it too last time I checked." Lando said, beginning to dance a bit. "Last time you checked was four years ago." Y/n replied. "Oh come on, you haven't changed that much." Lando chuckled. "You wanna bet?" She challenged.

Lando nodded, moving her hair across her shoulder and placing a gentle kiss onto her neck. "You like neck kisses, don't you?" Y/n found herself blushing and biting her lip to hide her smile. Lando's arms made their way around Y/n's torso, his chin resting on her shoulder. "You're playing a dangerous game, Lando." She said. "I know." Y/n set the cooking spoon to the side and gave in, turning and lifting her arms up around Lando's neck, swaying along with him. Soon enough, they were dancing, spinning and jumping around, carefree and happy. "Oh shit! The pasta!"

As they settled on the couch to watch a movie, Lando wrapped an arm around Y/n, feeling the warmth of their shared history. The prompts echoed in his mind, and he couldn't resist expressing his emotions. "I love our cuddles." He admitted, a genuine smile on his face. Y/n snuggled closer. "Me too. It feels like we never missed a beat." Lando looked up to her, the look of a lovestruck puppy in his eyes. "Stay here tonight." He asked. "Lando, I have work tomorrow." She replied. "You're acting like something is going to happen." Lando said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh shut up." The pair began laughing. As the laughing quietened down, they found themselves leaning in, centimetres away from eachother.

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat as Lando looked between her eyes and then down to her lip. "Alright, but only if you promise to make breakfast tomorrow, and I get to teach you how to cook properly." Lando grinned. "Deal." And with that, he leaned in and closed the gap between them, Y/n kissing back into his lips.

The movie faded into the background as they continued their kiss, both missing the feeling of the others lips on theirs. "If I could, I'd like to fall in love with you all over again." Lando whispered between kisses. He could feel Y/n smile against him. "Maybe we can take it one step at a time, starting with breakfast tomorrow morning." Lando shook his head, lifting her up off the couch and walking towards the door. "Or we could start now and just start where we left off."

#f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x oc #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff

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hansmic · 23 days ago

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𝓬𝓪𝓯é 𝓬𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓱

felix x gn! reader

summary: Every morning, they both grab coffee at the same café. One day, the line is longer than usual, and a conversation sparks over their shared impatience. Turns out, they’ve been each other’s “coffee shop crush” for weeks but never dared to speak up until now.

genre: fluff romance

warnings: none

word count: 661

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In the dimly lit café, Felix stood in line, his eyes casually scanning the familiar faces. He hadn’t noticed until now that the same captivating person had been catching his attention for weeks. The way they smiled at the barista while ordering his coffee was simply adorable.

As fate would have it, today was the day of an unusually long line, and Felix found himself standing right behind them. He was dying to start a conversation.

After a few moments of silence, Felix mustered up the courage to speak. “I guess everyone needed their caffeine fix this morning,” he said with a lighthearted tone. “It seems like we’re all in the same boat of needing that extra boost.”

you turned around, revealing a warm smile that made Felix’s heart skip a beat. “Absolutely! I can’t start my day without a good cup of coffee,” you replied.

The words flowed effortlessly as you both stood in line, sharing stories and laughter. Felix couldn’t help but feel a connection growing between the two of you. The chemistry was undeniable, and the way you talked about your passions made his heart race.

As the barista called out the orders, they both reached for their cups at the same time, resulting in an awkward but endearing touch. Felix turned red but chuckled nervously

As the conversation came to a brief pause, Felix took a deep breath and gathered his courage.

“So, ,” he began, “I hope this isn’t too forward, but I’ve been seeing you here every morning, and well…. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to grab a coffee with me sometime… Not just in line, I mean, on a date."

Felix’s heart raced as he awaited response, hoping he hadn’t misread the signs.

A wide smile spread across your face as you responded, feeling the same fluttering in your chest. “I’d love that, Felix,” you said, a hint of excitement in your voice. “I’ve had my eye on you too, and today was the perfect chance to talk to you.”

Felix felt an overwhelming sense of joy, knowing that this serendipitous moment had led to something more. The two of you continued to chat, making plans for your upcoming coffee date and eagerly exchanging phone numbers.

A few days later, you both met up at the same café. Over warm cups of coffee, Felix and you sat across from each other in a cozy corner booth. The conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter, and gentle teasing.

As the sun began to set, you decided to take a stroll through the nearby park, basking in the golden rays. Your hands brushed together, igniting sparks of desire. With each step, the closeness between the two of you grew, and soon, you couldn’t resist the magnetic pull any longer.

You reached out, twining your fingers with Felix’s. His warm hand enveloped yours, sending shivers down your spine. As you continued walking, your steps slowed, eventually stopping in a quiet spot beneath a grand oak tree.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves above you as you turned to face each other. With a smile, Felix leaned in, his eyes locked onto yours. He reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

His touch was soft, causing your heart to race. The atmosphere crackled with desire, and neither of you could resist the pull any longer. With a shared breath, you closed the distance between your lips, capturing each other in a tender kiss. Your bodies pressed together as the world around you faded into insignificance.

Lost in the moment, the kiss deepened, becoming more passionate by the second. Your bodies molded together, seeking closeness and warmth in each other’s arms.

As you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, you both burst into laughter, realizing the incredible chemistry that had ignited between you. The walk home was filled with stolen glances and secretive touches, both of you eager to explore this newfound connection further.

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hope you enjoyed feel free to request more!

masterlist is here if you wanna check out my other stories :)

#skz #skz stay #skz felix #stray kids felix #stray kids yongbok #lee felix x reader #felix yongbok #lee felix #felix #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz fluff #felix fluff #felix x reader #lee yongbok #stray kids fluff

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erlie · 30 days ago

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M/M Books, part 2

As promised, more M/M books with happy endings

EWB: Enemies with Benefits by N.R. Walker

As the title says but of course they end up as lovers. The start is little rough but that might be because these two actually hate each other at first, unlike in so many enemies to lovers. Smutty, lightly kinky.

A Rival Most Vial: Potioneering for Love and Profit by R.K. Ashwick

Cozy low stakes fantasy. Like coffee shop AU but with potions. Absolutely adorable, makes you giggle and kick your feet. If you liked Legends & Lattes, this is for you. Might be little spicy? Can't remember.

All for the Game -series by Nora Sakavic (on going) The Foxhole Court / The Raven King / The King's Men / The Sunshine Court

These are not happy books. While the first trilogy does end well, the ride there is ROUGH. But it is a heart wrenching story of found family, trust, trauma and overcoming your past and upbringing.

Mind the content warnings, THERE ARE MANY. These can and will veer slightly into misery porn but if you can handle that, go forth!

10 Things That Never Happened by Alexis Hall

This on the other hand is very happy and so stupid, in the best way. Fake amnesia and forced proximity with obvious hijinks. This does require reader some suspension of disbelief (because one can NOT throw a company wide christmas party WITH CATERING in LONDON, two days before christmas.) but you are so fuzzy and warm that its okay.

The Green Creek -series by TJ Klune Wolfsong / Ravensong / Heartsong / Brothersong

Do you love werewolves but do not really enjoy ABO dynamics? Can you stomach some pseudo science regarding wolf packs and alphas? Good news, this series is incredible! It will make you cry and curse 'stupid sexy werewolves'. Klune is my favorite author and this is my favorite book series, I can not recommend it enough.

Big Bad Wolf -series by Charlie Adhara The Wolf at the Door

More werewolves without ABO? Here you go! Adhara's werewolf books are solidly very good, hot and also have pretty good crime solving. Two grumps try to solve a crime and one of them might or might not be a suspect!

I can also recommend the Monster Hunt spin-off series.

The Turners series by Cat Sebastian The Ruin of a Rake / The Lawrence Browne Affairs

Historical romance all the way! Cat Sebastian is always reliable on this front so pretty much all of her books are good. I did not add the first book of the series here, because I liked it less than these two, but it still a solid read! Warning for period typical homophobia but is very minor and all of these obviously have happy endings. Spicy.

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan

This book took me by a surprise. I had very different expectations for this and it just threw them in the trash. If you want that Hogwarts-ish feeling without transphobia, this scratches that itch! Also some brilliant trope reversals and you have to on occasion face some uncomfortable feelings yourself. And the romance is very adorable. Not spicy.

Cemetary Boys by Aiden Thomas

Sometimes you accidentally summon a ghost and it won't go away and then you fall in love with him. Happens to everyone. Very good read about family, gender and acceptance. Transman as a main character. Not spicy.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

#book recs #book recommendation #m/m books #m/m romance #queer romance #lgbtq books #lgbtq+ books #books #there will be more parts!

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lives-in-midgard · 1 year ago

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🎄Beautiful Miracle🎄

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Summary: When your car breaks down in a small village you luckily find a bakery to stay in.

Word Count: 1095

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first fic for my Christmas special hosted by the lovely @buckys-wintersoldier. I hope you like it! 💗

Dividers made by @saradika 💗

Prompt 1: Bakery AU

Masterlist | Fluffcember Masterlist

It’s the first day of December and it has just started snowing. You were driving through a small village you had never been to before when suddenly your car broke down in the middle of the road. You were just able to pull over to park your car in an empty parking lot. You tried to start the car again, but it didn’t work.

“Noo, that can’t happen now. Not now when it’s so cold outside.” You said to yourself. After another try, you decided to call a car service station. They told you that it would take an hour or more for them to get here. So, you decided to take your bag, get out of your car, and look for somewhere to stay. You took a few steps and then saw that there was a small bakery.

Maximoff’s Sweets

You smiled and opened the door to the bakery. The air was filled with the smell of cinnamon and vanilla. Everything was decorated with Christmas decoration and a Christmas carol was playing. You walked around and noticed that this place looks really cozy and beautiful. You couldn’t see the owner of this shop, but you could hear someone singing.

“Deck the halls with boughs of holly.” You heard the soft voice more clearly now and had to smile. Then a door opened and a beautiful young woman with red hair walked out of a room from the back. She had a plate with cookies in her hand and immediately smiled when she saw you.

“Hello and welcome to my bakery.” The owner smiled at you and placed the cookies in an empty spot.

“Hi, this is a really wonderful place here.” You confessed and looked around and then back at her.

“Thank you. This really means a lot to me. Especially because it’s my first Christmas here.”

“Oh, congrats on that.” You said and the woman had to chuckle. She looked so beautiful and lovely.

“What can I offer you?” She asked and you looked at it all deliciously.

“Umm, I’m not sure. This looks all so delicious, what would you recommend?” You asked her nervously.

“How about these cinnamon rolls? They are really good and a new recipe I tried.” She pointed to the cinnamon rolls, and you nodded.

“Sounds good. I’ll take this and a coffee please.” You answered and Ms. Maximoff turned around to make you a coffee. She put the dessert and coffee on a plate and then walked with you to a table. You sat down and she placed everything in front of you.

“Do you mind if I join you?” She asked shyly.

“Of course not.”

“Okay, great, because my new cookies just came out of the oven and need time to cool. I’ll be with you in a moment.” She went back, made herself a cup of coffee and then came back to you. She sat down across from you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet. I‘m Wanda Maximoff.”

“Hi Wanda, I‘m Y/N.“

“So, what brought you to my bakery?” Wanda asked and you told her the story of your car and how you luckily found her warm and cozy bakery. Wanda listened intently as the two of you drank your coffee and ate your dessert.

“Wow, that tasted so good.” You complimented her after eating the cinnamon roll.

“Thank you, love.” You blushed and looked out the window for a second and saw that it started to snow more.

“What do you like to do when you’re not at this wonderful bakery?” You asked Wanda as you looked back at her.

“Well, I love spending time with my brother and some friends, I love finding new recipes for all kind of stuff, and oh I really enjoy watching sitcoms.”

“Sounds really cool. What’s your favorite sitcom?”

“The Dick Van Dyke Show. I loved it when I was a kid and I still do.” Wanda told you.

“And what do you like to do when your car doesn’t break down in front of a bakery?” Wanda asked and you had to chuckle at her question. You told her about your hobbies and talked for a while until you got a message on your phone.

“Sorry.” You apologized and looked at your phone.

“Oh, no.” You mumbled when you saw the message from the car service station.

“What’s wrong?” Wanda asked.

“It’s the car service station. It will take them a few hours to get here because of the snow.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, but hey, you’re lucky you ended up here.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” You smiled at her. A few minutes passed before Wanda said something again.

“Hey, I have an idea.”

“I’m all ears.”

“If you're interested, maybe you could help me with some cookies.”

“Yeah, sounds great.” You said and Wanda smiled happily. She showed you the kitchen where she makes all her desserts. Wanda then gave you an apron and you tied your hair into a ponytail. Then she showed you the recipe and started to put everything you needed on the table. You had fun helping Wanda bake the cookies and when you were done you put them in the oven and Wanda gave you a cup of hot chocolate. You stood next to her and talked for a few minutes until Wanda got the idea to decorate the cookies she had baked before you arrived. When you were almost finished, you received a message that the car service station will be here soon.

Wanda decided to give you some cookies and when you wanted to pay, she said that wasn’t necessary. You insisted that you wanted to pay, but Wanda was a little more stubborn than you, so she won. You put your jacket on and were a little sad to leave now, but you know where this bakery is so you could come back anytime.

“Goodbye, Wanda.” You said before opening the door.

“Wait.” Wanda shouted and ran towards you. You turned around and looked at her confused.

“I really enjoyed this afternoon with you and thought you might like to meet me again.” Wanda asked.

“I also really enjoyed it. I can give you my phone number, so you can text me.” Wanda nodded with a smile, and you gave her your phone number.

“See you soon, Wanda.” You said before walking out.

“See you soon. “You walked out with a smile, happy that your car broke down here and not somewhere else. Otherwise, you probably would never have met Wanda.

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highabovethecloudssomewhere · 8 months ago

Text

Bi-Yearly Book Catalogue (2024)

Every book I’ve read the past six months and what I thought, told as briefly as I can manage.

One Star Books:

Loveless by Alice Oseman

I understand that this book was helpful for a lot of people. It was the opposite of helpful for me.

The Midnight Library by Matt Haig

My gripes with this can be whittled down into: this writer does not understand depression but really, really wants to cure it. Also, if you do decide to give this book a try, please mind the subject material. It really, really isn’t for everyone.

Two Star Books:

N/A

Three Star Books:

A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman

A simple book about an old man learning to want to live again. Where ‘The Midnight Library’ failed for me, this one succeeded. If you plan to read this one, be mindful of the content warnings. It also isn’t for everyone.

Lily and the Octopus by Steven Rowely

It’s about a dog who has cancer. I think that says it all. There were parts of this book I really liked and parts I really didn’t like. It lost me halfway through and I stopped caring about the stakes, which is really upsetting when the stakes are a dog. But the good parts are really, really good. Just be mindful of the premise going into it.

In the Lives of Puppets by TJ Klune

I liked the character work, loved the world building and on a technical level the writing was well-done. My gripes have to do with the story’s internal contradictions and how the only character traits I can think of for the main character are “asexual” and “inventor,” neither of which are explored properly (emphasis on asexual here). I didn’t like that despite being 21, the main character was narratively treated like a child, often involving his sexuality. I had to google how old he was multiple times because I couldn’t believe he wasn’t in his mid-teens given how he reacted to the story and how the story treated him. Loved the writing on a technical level, though, and I do plan to read more from this author.

Four Star Books:

Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldree

A COFFEE shop AU? In MY high fantasy? If you like DnD, low-stakes high-fantasy and fun character work, give this one a read. It’s very cozy.

A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers

It’s a book about a nonbinary tea monk and a robot who lives in the mountains. Slow-paced with good vibes and great world building. I read it in an evening and came away from it feeling warm.

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Achilles and Patroclus’ relationship breaks my heart again. This was incredibly well-written and appropriately devastating. I just wanted them to be happy.

Countdown to Countdown by Kong Xiao Tong (graphic novel)

I bought a physical copy of this because I’ve always loved the artist’s work and wanted to support, and I enjoyed it a LOT. Beautiful art, fantastic characters. I know not everyone can avoid a physical copy, but the webcomic is available to read for free online and I highly recommend giving it a try.

Our Dining Table by Ori Mita (manga)

Learning to enjoy mealtime with loved ones again after childhood trauma? Y’all. It’s a single-volume manga and it’s well worth your time.

Five Star Books:

Beartown by Fredrik Backman

This was the most devastating book I’ve ever read. If you are interested in reading it: find a list of content warnings first. I went in blind. It is hauntingly real and the author handled the material so, so well. I can’t recommend this book without that caveat. But it’s one of the best-written books I’ve read.

The Saturday Night Ghost Club by Craig Davidson

This book is about a man looking back on his life as a boy - the friends he made and the misadventurous ghost-hunts his uncle dragged them into. It’s just the right amount of campy with fun characters and a brilliant use of prose. If you’re a less experienced reader and want a book that is easily digestible while also being extraordinarily well-written, I’d recommend this book in a heartbeat, and it’s every bit as entertaining for more advanced readers.

What you are looking for is in the library by Aoyama Michiko

Five stories about five people, all in different stages of life, and their unique experiences with the same librarian and the same library. Individually, each character in each story has their unsatisfying lives changed in an unexpectedly simple way, thanks to the library. There’s nothing wild about this book, but it is wildly impactful. The library is for everyone!

Tress of the Emerald Sea by Brandon Sanderson

Heroine travels the treacherous seas to save the man she loves. It’s a book about perspectives and joy and making unlikely friends, breaking curses through clever means and never, ever giving up. It has all the whimsy of a classic fairytale, yet not once could I predict how it was going to end. It’s fast-paced and hard to put down. The world is intriguing and the characters are wonderful.

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

This book is utterly mind-bending and I loved it. Two time-travelers chase each other through reality on opposing sides of the Time War and gradually fall in love. It’s great. The biggest complaint I see leveled at this book comes from less experienced readers who struggle to follow the narrative - and I do agree, if you’re just getting into reading for fun this might be a book to save for later. But don’t let me stop you. I loved this book.

Conclusion:

Reading is great. Libraries are your friend. I always love book recommendations and I’m on GoodReads as BeyondTheClouds777, predictably. If any of y’all take a stab at these books (or have taken stabs in the past), I’d love to hear your thoughts! I’m back in my bookworm era and thriving.

#Cloud’s book club #Book reviews #cloud’s book club 2024 #anyway #this is how you lose the time war #tress of the emerald sea #what you are looking for is in the library #the Saturday night ghost club #beartown #our dining table #countdown to countdown #the song of Achilles #a psalm for the wild-built #legends and lattes #in the lives of puppets #lily and the octopus #a man called Ove #the midnight library #loveless

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kteezy997 · 2 months ago

Text

A Love Story for Christmas-Part Two(the end)// t.c.

This is not edited, I just wanted to get this out before the end of the year lol enjoy!

“So, you mean the bookstore is going to be closing for good?!”

Timmy shrugged, “Yeah, I mean people have been coming in for years saying that they can get books for cheaper online. And then there’s all the people that don’t care about physical books, so they just read off of their kindles or apps on their phones. Makes it hard to pay bills when people won’t buy our books.”

“Yeah, technology really has ruined the book-reading experience. It’s a shame, really. This place is so charming and sweet, it’s been a reading nook for generations in this town. I would hate to see it close down.”

“Yeah, I actually had an idea to go into business with the local coffee shop, like have the bookstore co-op with the coffee place to be one shop.”

“Oh, that’s an awesome idea!”

“Well, thanks.” he blushed, “but the city didn’t like the idea and the owner of the coffee shop said said no, so…”

An idea popped into your head, you opened your mouth to speak, “Timmy, my-"

“So, um-" he began, both of you spoke at the same time and you laughed in unison.

Wanting to know what he was going to say, you insisted, “You go first.”

“Okay.” he chuckled, “I was just wondering if you were going to the Festival of Christmas Lights on the Square tonight?”

“The Festival of Christmas Lights on the Square? I didn’t know anything about it. What is that?”

“Oh, I’m surprised you haven’t seen the flyers around town; it’s just a little event on the square, there’s displays of Christmas lights and all the local shops and cafes are open. You can walk around, eat, drink, shop and look at all the lights. It’s actually really neat, every year we spend two weeks putting up lights.”

“That’s awesome! Maybe I’ll check it out.” you smiled.

“Well, would you like to go with me?”

“Yes.” you answered, blushing.

“Cool, um, let me get your number and I’ll pick you up around five.”

……….

You were on cloud nine. Not only did you meet a cute new guy, but you got his phone and a first date. Well, you hoped it qualified as a date. And to see Christmas lights and sip hot cocoa, so perfect and cozy.

You had to dress warm, but still wanted to look cute for the date. So, you put on some thermal black leggings and a red sweater dress with your long wool coat over it.

You felt like you were back in high school, waiting for your crush to pick you up for a date.

Timmy pulled up at 5 o’clock sharp.

“Wow, you look pretty.” he announced as you approached him, he had opened the passenger side door for you.

“Aw, thank you. You look nice too.” you replied with a smile. “Thank you for opening the door for me.” you said as you got into his car. He looked very dapper in his black coat with a touch of whimsy from his cozy orange scarf.

“You’re very welcome.” he chirped, shutting the car door after you.

After he got into the driver’s seat and took off, you said, “Thank you for taking me to the light festival.”

“Oh, no, thank you for coming with me. I’m glad to not have to go alone.”

“Can I ask you something without being too invasive?”

“Sure, ask me anything.”

“How is a guy like you single? I mean, I am assuming you’re single?”

“Yeah, no, I am. I just got out of a relationship a few months ago. I just haven’t really gotten back out there, and just been busy trying to save the bookstore.”

“Oh? What have you been doing that’s kept you away from the dating scene?”

“Trying out fundraisers, talking with other businesses to try and collaborate, spending my own money on advertising, shopping around to find cheaper books for wholesale, but nothing is really working. It’s really hard to see my family’s business failing, especially since it’s been a staple in the community for so long.”

“I know, it makes me so sad. Maybe-"

“Hey, we’re here!” he chimed, pulling into a little parking lot.

You looked ahead, seeing the square all lit up and a decent amount of people making their way up there.

“Were you saying something?” Timmy asked, finding a spot and parking the car, turning the engine off.

“No, no. Let’s go!” you exclaimed.

…….

The atmosphere of the busy square was magical. No surface was left undecorated for the holiday season. Multicolored lights were strung, Christmas characters stood on every corner, greenery, holly, snow, everything was a winter wonderland come to life.

Every store and restaurant was open and alive with guests flooding in and out. The smell of coffee and gingerbread covered the exhaust fumes of the cars that would drive by along the square.

The street was packed with smiling faces and rosy cheeks. Timmy held your hand so you wouldn’t be separated. You were bundled up enough so you weren't cold, but tiny little snow flurries started coming down.

After browsing a couple of stores, Timmy took you to the coffee shop for a hot drink. "Hot chocolate?" he asked when it was your turn at the register.

"Sounds perfect." you answered. He ordered two cups.

The hot chocolate was the perfect temperature for drinking. It warmed your whole body even more.

You exited the coffee shop hand in hand, Timmy took a sip from his cup, then said, "So, y/n, I feel like you already know a lot about me, but I've neglected to ask about you."

"Well, what would you like to know?" you giggled as the two of you continued your stroll along the street.

"What do you do for work up in the big city?"

"It's funny you should ask, because I've tried to tell you a couple of different times today, it just didn't come out."

Timmy stopped walking, looking at you, "Oh no, it's my fault isn't it? Did I interrupt you? I talk too much, I know I do, especially if I like someone." He looked down at his feet, shamefully. He looked so cute and pitiful, holding your hand in one of his while the other held his cup of hot chocolate while holding his head down.

"No, no! It's not your fault. I don't think you talk too much. I think you're great, Timothee."

He looked back up at you, smiling softly, "Thank you. I think you're great too, now tell me about your work." he chuckled.

"I actually work in the marketing department for my father's coffee company." you said.

"Really? So, you're in the coffee business?"

"Yes, it's actually one of the biggest coffee chains in the world, I don't know if you've heard of it, Smith's Brew Company?"

"Wait," you could practically see the wheels turning in his head, "so you're y/n Smith, your dad is Ronald Smith of Smith's Brew?"

You nodded, giggling, "Yep that's us."

"Wow, that's incredible. He's like one of my business idols. I can't believe I met you, and that you're from the same place as me." he strengthened his grip softly on your hand.

"I'm glad I met you." you agreed, "And Timmy, I think we could help your bookstore. Remember the bookstore coffee shop combo idea you had? We could talk to my father about starting it. He is a sucker for helping small businesses, there's no way he would say no to helping his hometown save one of its longest running stores!"

"Oh, y/n," he shook his head, "that's a wonderful idea, but I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You didn't ask, I'm offering. You just say the word, and I'll set up a meeting with my dad in the city. He will be happy to meet you and hear your story."

He sighed, then looked at you with a grin, "That would be great, thank you so much." He leaned in and you nearly fell over as his warm lips met your cold cheek.

You weren't expecting the kiss, but you gladly welcomed it. You smiled at him. His sweet eyes made you melt in the snowy air. You stepped closer, your bodies touched, and you rested your head on his chest, never wanting this night to end.

Timmy placed his chin on your head, "So, how long are you in town for? I want to take you on a date before you have to leave."

You moved your head to look up at him, "Is this not a date?"

"Well, I'd like to take you on a second date." he smirked.

"Mom, look they're under the mistletoe!" you heard a child shout from a few feet away.

You and Timmy both looked up, seeing the small greenery with small white flowers and red holly, tied up in a tree with a festive bow.

Smiling at each other, you both knew what had to be done. You closed your eyes, letting him give you the most romantic, body tingling kiss of your life.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothée imagine #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet #timothee fanfic #timothée chalamet fanfic

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roxxie-wolf · 10 months ago

Text

𝒩𝑒𝓌 𝒪𝓇𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒

Pairing: Human!Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your parents want you to marry someone of their choice, but you already have eyes on someone else. Will you follow what your parents think is best for you or will you go with what your heart desires.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: human!alastor x fem!reader, slow burn, this story may contain mature sexual content. Your in your late 20's, Alastor is in his early 30's, you still live with your parents idk. If I forgot anything else please let me know.

Note: Idk what to say, but if I miss anything please let me know ^^

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝟧

Early morning painted the town in hues of orange and pink as you walked through the quiet streets. You had ventured out to gather some necessities your mother needed for the day. The butcher shop, a familiar stop on your errand route, welcomed you. The scent of fresh meat mingled with the earthiness of sawdust, a combination that was strangely comforting. The man at the register had hands like hams and a smile that was surprisingly gentle for such a rugged exterior.

"Hello, what can I do for you, young lady?" his voice deep and resonant, like the low rumble of distant thunder.

You approached the counter, the list of items your mother needed clear in your mind. "Yes, I was wondering if you have some chops," you looked at him, trying not to seem intimidated by the butcher's imposing presence.

"Of course," turning to the display behind him. "We have a fine selection this morning. Chops, ribs, tenderloin—whatever you need."

You watched as he laid out the cuts of meat, each piece neatly trimmed and wrapped in paper. "I'll take some chops and a tenderloin, please," you decided, thinking of the meals you could prepare.

The butcher nodded, his skilled hands moving deftly to prepare your order. "Coming right up, Anything else I can get for you?"

“No, that would be all, thank you”

As he worked, you couldn't help but notice the care he took with each cut, the respect he showed for his craft. It was a reminder that every person you meet has a story, a life as rich and complex as your own.

With your purchase in hand, you left the butcher shop, the morning sun warming your back as you continued your errands, the town slowly coming to life around you.

After getting everything your mother needed you decided to stop at a cafe, your personal favorite. The cafe, a cozy haven of warmth and the scent of freshly brewed coffee, was a welcome respite from your errands. As you settled into a chair, the weight of the bags reminding you of the morning's hustle, you allowed yourself a moment of rest.

Your gaze wandered, taking in the familiar comfort of the cafe, when suddenly, it landed on a sight that sent a jolt of surprise through you. There, entering the cafe, was Alastor—the very man who had been occupying your thoughts more often than you cared to admit.

He moved with an effortless grace, his attention momentarily caught by the barista's greeting. You watched, almost without thinking, your hand coming to rest beneath your chin as you admired him from afar. He was the picture of charm, his eyes holding a depth that seemed to pull you in.

And then, as if drawn by some unspoken connection, Alastor turned and his eyes found yours. His smile, wide and genuine, was like a beacon cutting through the ambient noise of the cafe. He didn't hesitate, making his way over to you.

"Well hello, we meet again darling," his tone gentle yet filled with the joy of the unexpected meeting.

You looked up at him, your heart fluttering despite your best efforts to appear composed. "Hello, it's good to see you again," your voice a whisper of softness to match his gentle tone.

“May I sit with you” you nodded. Alastor took the seat opposite you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I must say, I didn't expect to find you here," he admitted, his grin widening. "But I'm certainly not complaining, ma cherie.”

Alastor's new word, a soft murmur that you couldn't quite grasp, lingered in the air, adding to the tapestry of the moment. You caught his eyes, those deep pools of mystery, and for a heartbeat, you considered the thought of leaning in closer, of bridging the gap between thought and action.

But the world has a way of pulling us back, and so you turned away, a flush creeping up your cheeks as you wrestled with the sudden rush of emotions.

"May I know what are you thinking?," Alastor's voice broke through your reverie, as gentle as the touch you imagined.

You laughed, a nervous sound that did little to hide the turmoil beneath. "I’m sorry, it’s nothing, just random thoughts," the smile on your face belying the intensity of your previous thoughts.

Alastor's gaze softened, a hint of understanding—or was it curiosity?—flickering within. "Random thoughts are often the most interesting dear," his tone inviting, encouraging you to share more if you wished.

But some thoughts are meant to be kept close, treasured in the silence of one's heart, and so you simply smiled, the color in your cheeks a silent testament to the words left unspoken.

“I see you didn’t order anything” you said, a casual observation to mask the whirlwind of thoughts. The shift in conversation was a welcome reprieve, a chance to steer away from the edge of confessions not yet ready to be shared.

Alastor's response was immediate, his attention shifting from the missed order to your presence. "Ah yes, well I saw you and I decided to make my way to you. I forgot all about ordering. Do you want something, my dear?" His question was simple, but the way he said "my dear" made it feel like an endearment meant only for you.

The hesitation was brief, a moment's pause before you voiced your request. “Yes, coffee please." It was a simple order, one that might bring a smile to some, but Alastor took it in stride.

"Of course, darling" he stand with a fluid grace. He moved towards the barista, and you couldn't help but watch him, each step a silent note in the melody of your admiration.

As he spoke to the barista, you found yourself studying him anew, noticing the subtle gestures, the confident stance, the easy smile. It was as if seeing him in this mundane act peeled back another layer, revealing more of the man who had become a constant in your thoughts.

————————————

Alastor returned, the coffees cradled in his hands as if they were precious cargo. He handed you your cup, and as you whispered your thanks, there was a softness in the air, a gentle exchange of more than just pleasantries.

"I see you have groceries, my dear. Would you like me to help you with those when you leave?" His offer was casual, yet it carried the weight of a gesture that bridged the gap between acquaintance and something more.

You considered for a moment, the practicality of accepting his help mingling with the desire for his company. "Yes, of course, if you don’t mind," the decision made easier knowing your parents wouldn't be home to question his presence.

As you sipped your coffee, the world outside the cafe's window seemed to slow down, the hustle of the town taking on the quality of a distant backdrop. "So Alastor, what do you do for a living?" you asked, curiosity coloring your tone.

He smiled, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Well, I’m a radio host, of course."

The revelation struck a chord, and your eyes widened in recognition. Memories of an evening spent in the company of your mother and the radio came flooding back. She had spoken of the host's voice, rich and captivating. And now, with the pieces falling into place, you realized that the voice that had filled your home with stories, and music belonged to Alastor.

“That sounds like an interesting job," you remarked, the steam from your coffee curling up into the air

Alastor's eyes met yours over the rim of his cup, a spark of passion in his gaze. "It is, trust me, dear" taking a sip of his drink, the words punctuated by the clink of the cup returning to the table.

—————————————

The hours had flown by, each moment spent with Alastor was a moment where the rest of the world seemed to fade away. As the afternoon waned, and the cafe began to empty, the barista starting to clean up for the day. Alastor glanced at the bags beside your chair. "Shall we, darling ?" gesturing towards the exit.

You nodded, and together, you stepped out into the golden hue of the setting sun. The town was quieter now, the bustle of the day settling into the calm of the evening. As you walked, Alastor carried your bags, his presence a comforting constant by your side.

The walk home was leisurely, filled with light banter and laughter. When you reached your doorstep, the sky was painted with streaks of pink and orange, a beautiful end to an unexpected day.

"Would you like me to put these on the table for you?" He nods towards the bags heavy with the day's purchases.

You shook your head, stepping forward to relieve him of the burden. "Oh no, it's ok. I got it. You have done a lot for me today," you insisted, your hands reaching out to take the bags from him.

"Alright, as you wish, darling," Alastor acquiesced, placing the bags into your outstretched hands with a care that spoke of his respect for your independence.

"Thank you, Alastor, for everything," your voice sincere. The smile on your face a mirror of the warmth that his kindness had kindled in your heart.

"It was my pleasure, ma cherie," his smile genuine. The word of endearment slipping into the conversation as naturally as a leaf falls to the ground in autumn.

Alastor’s hand was gentle as it brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

His eyes, deep and searching, met yours, and for a second, the world seemed to stand still. The space between you was electric, his face so close to yours that you could feel his breath on your skin. His hand, warm against your cheek, tilted your chin up, an invitation to a moment of vulnerability. Your heart pounded a frantic rhythm in your chest.

You could see the hesitation in his eyes, the conflict of emotions that played across his features. It was as if he was wrestling with a decision, one that could change the very nature of your relationship.

Then, as quickly as the moment came, it passed. Alastor looked away, releasing you from his gentle hold. The air felt cooler without his touch, and you were left with the echo of what might have been.

He stepped back, a polite smile replacing the intensity of before. "I should go darling," his voice steady but softer than usual.

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of feelings inside you. "Yes, of course.” The words managed to leave your lips, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn't want him to go; you yearned for him to stay, if only for a moment longer.

With a final nod, Alastor turned and left, leaving you with the memory of a moment that was both too much and not enough.

The bags now in your possession, you stood at the threshold of your home, the door closing behind you. The silence of the space around you was a stark contrast to the lively banter that had filled the air just moments before. Yet, in that silence, there was a sense of contentment, a feeling of gratitude for the unexpected joys that life sometimes brings.

As you placed the bags on the table you replayed the scene in your mind, his hand reaching out, the warmth of his touch, the intensity of his gaze. Probably you had something on your face and he didn’t dare to tell you. You ran to the bathroom to get a closer look.

The reflection in the mirror showed nothing amiss, confirming that Alastor's gesture had been prompted by something other than a blemish on your face. With a sigh of relief, you turned away from your reflection and made your way to the kitchen, the sanctuary where you could immerse yourself in the familiar rhythm of cooking.

As you unpacked the groceries and began to prepare the evening meal, the actions were automatic, allowing your mind to drift back to Alastor's touch.

The kitchen was filled with the comforting sounds of sizzling and the aromatic promise of a delicious dinner. You moved with purpose, chopping, stirring, tasting, all the while pondering the complexity of feelings that Alastor had stirred in you.

With each stir of the pot, you found your thoughts simmering along with the ingredients. *What did that moment mean? Was it a sign of deepening affection, or simply a fleeting impulse?* The questions mingled with the steam rising from the dishes you were preparing.

As the aroma filled the kitchen, you set the table, each plate placed with care, a reflection of the care you wished to convey to your parents. Dinner would be ready for them, a warm welcome after a long day. As you awaited their return, the memory of Alastor's near-kiss was tucked away, a secret smile playing on your lips.

🌸𝒫𝓇𝑒𝓋𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈🌸 🌸𝒩𝑒𝓍𝓉🌸

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so you be updated every time.^^ I do try to proofread but if I missed something please let me know.

Also I sometimes tend to make minor changes to the chapters.

Thank you! For reading I hope you enjoyed it.💖

TAGLIST: @magictoebean @little-slyvixen @bitchywitchygardener @diffidentphantom

#alastor #alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #human alastor #hazbin hotel alastor

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cowboybrunch · 7 months ago

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writerly questionnaire tag!!!

finally getting around to this, thanks a million @the-golden-comet (here) @harmonic-melodii (here) and @fortunatetragedy (here) <3

About You

When did you start writing?

as soon as i could hold a pen. i have notebooks FULL of little me's stories (i keep everything ive ever written. for nostalgia.) it was mostly silly escapism for a lonely child but now it's sweet to look at and giggle. from when i was maybe eight? nine?: "Pain and fear, like a perfect recipe. Pain and fear, milk and eggs"

Are the genres/themes you enjoy reading different from the ones you write?

mmm probably. when i say ill read anything, i mean ill read ANYTHING. i dont think ill ever write a hockey romance but im down to clown

Is there an author (or just a fellow writer!) you want to emulate, or one to whom you’re often compared?

poetry-wise Bhanu Kapil has been a massive inspiration for me. also Kaveh Akbar and Ariana Reines (Mercury sits in a place of honor on my bookshelf). for novels? i feel like i emulate whatever i last read. Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver did horrible (affectionate) things to the way i write

Can you tell me a little about your writing space(s)? (Room, coffee shop, desk, etc.)

my office! my favorite place in the world!! cozy lights (that double as gamer lights), diet coke can graveyard, comfy office chair big enough for me to sit in a way that absolutely destroys my posture. sticky notes everywhere (a fun challenge! can i read my own handwriting?) AND!! i have an audience

What’s your most effective way to muster up some muse?

reading something else, talking to someone about whatever im stuck on, setting a timer and just dumping everything in my brain (something in there HAS to be worth pursuing)

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about?

HA!

Are there any recurring themes in your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all?

overbearing parental figures that believe they're acting in the best interest of their kid... surprising when i realized that it's in almost everything i write characters that are good at heart but commit atrocities due to their circumstances... less surprising oh! and death. i write a lot about death (someone pointed this out recently and i was like huh. you right)

Your Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character? (Current WIP, past WIP, never used, etc.)

Missy and Theodore staring at each other like

sorry! Theodore is my favorite!! he got here first!!!! he's my precious loser baby boy who HAPPENS to be the heir of death but he's trying his best! he's pathetic!! he's doomed!! but he means well! he doesn't want anyone to die alone! he wants to be good! he wants to be good soooo bad!! he hates rivers but loves the ocean!! he lies to everyone, including himself! he's simultaneously full of self-loathing and self-righteousness!! AND... he's bisexual!!

Which of your characters do you think you’d be friends with in real life?

i would kick it with Robbie for SURE. snarky little smarty pants that can't sit still for more than five minutes, we'd be peas

Which of your characters would you dislike the most if you met them?

*looks around nervously* ... Marcella (BOO!! TOMATO!!) im sensitive and she would be mean to me!! i feel like we'd warm up to each other eventually but not before she made me cry

Tell me about the process of coming up with of one, all, or any of your characters.

they just kinda... show up. and reveal more about themselves as i write them

Do you notice any recurring themes/traits among your characters?

ougffff. lots of anger in these parts. most of my characters are angry, esp the women. as they should be

How do you picture them? (As real people you imagined, as models/actors who exist in real life, as imaginary artwork, as artwork you made or commissioned, anime style, etc.)

depends on the character! for main guys, they get listed descriptions but i cant picture them in my head (thank you picrew). but others? they're like. blurry shadows moving through the story (do NOT ask me what Uriel looks like! i DONT KNOW!)

Your Writing

What’s your reason for writing?

words in brain make story in head. need story out of head so i can focus on literally anything else no but seriously. that quote that's like "the only thing worse than writing is not writing." it's like. a maintenance activity. if im feeling especially wound up it's probably because i havent written anything lately

Is there a specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers?

if you leave me ANY comment i am kissy you on the forehead. just knowing that someone read it let alone enjoyed it... waoh

How do you feel about your own writing? (Answer in whatever way you interpret this question.)

i am... trying very hard not to fall into self-deprecation here. i think there are things that i do well and things that i can improve on, but even if i write something and think it's "bad" i can still learn from it. all practice is good practice!!! (said through gritted teeth)

If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write?

yea! i would find comfort in it i think, same way i do now. have my little characters for company

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy? If it’s a mix of the two, which holds the most influence?

i am my own target audience. i am the conductor of the self-indulgence train but there's room aplenty if you wanna hop on

tag! @illarian-rambling @writingrosesonneptune @sarandipitywrites @mrbexwrites @mysticstarlightduck and a wide open tag if you havent done this yet. gimme a peek into your brain!!!

#tag games #savrambles

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harrystylesslutt · 2 years ago

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A serene escape

Part 1 of seaside serendipity

warnings: just fluff for now

The quaint coastal town of Seaside Haven was your personal paradise. Its narrow cobbled streets, lined with charming cottages and the alluring scent of the ocean breeze, made it the perfect summer escape. The café by the beach, "Seashells & Coffee," was your haven of tranquility. It was here that you had spent several summers working, basking in the warmth of the locals and the cool embrace of the sea.

The sun rose lazily over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold as you stepped into the café. The day held the promise of new adventures, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest. The morning rush hadn't begun yet, giving you a moment to prepare the cafe for the day ahead.

As you arranged freshly baked pastries in the display case, you couldn't help but glance out the window, captivated by the waves crashing against the shore. Lost in thought, you nearly jumped when a soft voice interrupted your reverie.

"Excuse me, is this place open?"

You turned to find a tall, curly-haired stranger standing at the entrance. His emerald eyes sparkled with curiosity, and the smile on his lips was enough to make your heart skip a beat. He had an aura of mystery and charm that immediately intrigued you.

"Yes, we're open!" you replied with your normal cheerful tone, despite the unexpected flutters in your stomach. "Welcome to Seashells & Coffee."

He stepped inside, and you noticed a hint of sea salt in his dark, tousled hair. "Thank you," he said, a faint British accent adding to his allure. "This place has such a lovely vibe."

"Thank you," you repeated, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink under his warm gaze. "Would you like a seat by the window? It offers the best view."

"That sounds perfect," he said, a playful yet reserved glint in his eyes.

You led him to a cozy corner by the window, where he took a seat with a small smile. As you handed him a menu, your fingers brushed against his, causing an electrifying sensation to run through your veins. You quickly withdrew your hand, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"I'm Harry, by the way," he introduced himself, his smile never fading.

"Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm YN," you replied, your heart pounding in your chest. It wasn't like you never got any good looking customers, you did, but you've always managed to keep your cool since most of them had a cold vibe surrounding them. There was just something about this stranger that made you intrigued to know more, was it his manners? the way he held eye contact? or the way his eyes kept subtly glancing down at your lips?

Over the next few hours, few customers went in and out, all of them seeming to be in too much of a hurry to sit down on one of the pink leather couches. You could feel the eyes of the stranger on you every now and then, there was some kind of tension knowing you and him were the only two people in the shop. However he did not miss trying to make his presence noticeable, since he was making his way back and forth from where you were working, getting new pastries to try while leaving little appreciation comments every now and then.

As the afternoon sun bathed the café in golden light, Harry was on one of his missions to get a new pastry, you somehow managed to end up engrossed in a conversation with him. He was well-traveled and had an air of wisdom beyond his years. He shared stories of his adventures, and you told him about the town's history and hidden gems, since he showed you a strong interest towards the hidden tales of the town. The more you talked, the more you felt an unspoken connection between you two, as if you had known each other for much longer than just a few hours.

After paying his bill, Harry leaned closer, his eyes locked with yours. "Thank you YN, I couldn't think of a better way to start my vacation; you really do know the art of pastries well” He chuckled.

You blushed at his compliment, feeling the undeniable chemistry between you. "Thank you Harry, although I am a bit thrown off by your hatred for strawberries, I don't think it's acceptable really.”

“Ah there it is, you let me off too easily earlier, I knew you were secretly judging my impeccable taste” He replied. You found yourself cheekily laughing at his teasing words “If anything it is anything but impeccable. The fact that you won't try any strawberry pastries is cruel! You know that you’d find a newly found love for them but you’re in denial so it’s fine it'll take you a while to cave in” Your playful banter goes on for a while until Harry really has to go but not before suggesting subtly his next visit, and that alone leaves u with flutters in your stomach.

------

The next day, as the sun painted the sky in a soft pastel palette, you found yourself eagerly anticipating Harry's return to Seashells & Coffee. The memory of your long conversation from the previous day had lingered in your mind, leaving you with a sense of excitement and nervousness about seeing him again.

Just as the clock struck ten, the familiar chime of the doorbell signaled his arrival. Harry stepped in with that same charming smile that made your heart skip a beat. It was as if he brought the sunshine with him, brightening the entire café with his presence.

"Good morning, YN," he greeted, his eyes locking onto yours as if you were the only one in the room.

"Morning, Harry," you replied with a warm smile, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

He took a seat by the window once more, and you couldn't help but notice the small details that made him uniquely Harry—the way his curls fell just right, the subtle crinkles near his eyes when he smiled, and the way he fidgeted with the menu, pretending to be undecided.

"You're back for another adventure at Seashells & Coffee?" you asked playfully, remembering his words from yesterday.

Harry chuckled. "Absolutely. It's the best place to be."

As the day went on, your playful banter continued. You brought back your criticism towards his peculiar dislike for strawberries, which amused you to no end. "You're missing out on the best summer treat, Harry," you teased, holding up a plump, ripe strawberry between your fingers.

"I know, I know," he chuckled, shaking his head. "I told you,It's just one of those things I can't seem to enjoy."

Determined to change his mind, you decided to take matters into your own hands. During a short break, you disappeared into the kitchen, whipping up a special strawberry dessert just for him. You carefully crafted a delicious strawberry shortcake with layers of sponge, fresh strawberries, and a dollop of whipped cream on top.

Returning to his table, you placed the dessert before him with a flourish. "Now, this is the ultimate test. Give it a try."

Harry raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on his lips. "You're on."

He took a hesitant bite, and you watched nervously, hoping that your creation would win him over. His eyes widened in surprise, and a smile broke out on his face.

"Wow, this is amazing," he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine delight. "You might have just done the impossible and changed my opinion on strawberries."

You couldn't help but beam with pride at his reaction. "I told you they're delicious! It's like a burst of summer in every bite."

As the day continued, you and Harry spent more time together, talking, laughing, and enjoying each other's company. The bond between you grew stronger with every shared moment. You felt a sense of comfort and ease around him, as if you had found someone who truly understood you.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the coastal town, Harry hesitated before speaking. "Would you like to take a walk on the beach with me?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his invitation, and you nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. "I'd love to."

Closing the shop, you strolled along the shoreline, the waves gently caressing the sand beneath your feet. The sound of the ocean served as a soothing backdrop to your conversation. As you and Harry walked along the beach, the cool ocean breeze caressed your skin, creating a sense of serenity around you. The waves lapped gently against the shore, and the distant cries of seagulls added to the tranquil atmosphere.

Harry's curiosity got the best of him, and he couldn't help but ask about the peculiar events that had occurred in the town. "You mentioned yesterday that this place has a magical charm and stories waiting to be written. Are there any particular stories or events that stand out?"

You smiled, appreciating his interest in the town's history. "Oh, definitely! Seaside Haven has a rich history filled with mysteries and legends. One of the most famous stories is about an old lighthouse that sits atop the cliffs."

Intrigued, Harry leaned in, eager to hear more. "Tell me about it."

"Legend has it that the lighthouse was built centuries ago by a lonesome sailor," you began, the tales of old coming to life in your words. "He fell deeply in love with a local woman, but their love was forbidden by her overprotective family. Heartbroken and desperate, he built the lighthouse as a beacon of hope, hoping it would guide him back to her."

Harry's eyes sparkled with fascination. "Did it work?"

"Well," you continued with a playful grin, "that's the mystery. Some say that on clear, moonlit nights, you can see a ghostly figure of a man gazing out to sea from the top of the lighthouse. Locals call him the 'Lover's Light.'"

"That's both beautiful and haunting," Harry mused, captivated by the romantic lore.

As you walked further, you shared more stories—the shipwrecks that dotted the coastline, the hidden caves said to be treasure troves, and the annual beach bonfire festival that brought the entire town together. Harry listened with genuine interest, asking questions and adding his own insights.

He paused for a moment, gazing out at the vast ocean before turning back to you. "It's incredible how stories and history shape a place. It's like every corner of this town has a tale to tell."

"It truly does," you agreed, feeling a deep connection forming between you two as you shared these tales. "And it's those stories that make this town so special, giving it a sense of magic and wonder."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow across the sky, you both continued your leisurely stroll along the beach. The stories of the town, the sound of the waves, and the connection between you and Harry created an enchanting moment—one that would forever be etched in the sands of your summer paradise.

-------

Harry walked back to his rented cottage, his mind swirling with thoughts of YN. The way she spoke about the town's history with such passion, the playful glint in her eyes when she teased him about strawberries, and the warmth of her smile—it all left an indelible impression on him. He couldn't deny how drawn he felt to her, but he also knew that he was just passing through this picturesque town for a different reason. .

"Keep it together, Harry," he mumbled to himself as he entered the cozy living room. He settled down on the worn-out couch, trying to focus on the laptop in front of him. But every time he tried to concentrate on his work, thoughts of YN crept back into his mind.

He shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts. "You can't get distracted now," he reminded himself sternly, his fingers tapping on the keyboard. He had come to Seaside Haven for a specific goal, he reminded himself.

As he typed, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of suspicion lingering in the back of his mind. It was as if fate had led him to YN, and he couldn't understand why he was so taken by her. He had met plenty of people during his travels, but there was something about her that felt different—like she held a key to a world of wonder he had yet to discover.

Pushing the thoughts away, Harry focused on his work once more. He typed away, the soft tapping of the keys echoing in the quiet room. But try as he might, his mind kept wandering back to YN the enchanting girl he had met at the café.

"Get a grip, Harry," he scolded himself, forcing himself to concentrate on the task at hand. He couldn't afford to let his emotions get the best of him. After all, he was just a visitor with a mission in Seaside Haven, and he didn't know how long he would stay.

With a determined sigh, he finally managed to immerse himself in his writing. But even as the words flowed from his fingers, he couldn't shake off the image of YN's smile and the feeling of her hand in his. It was as if the town itself conspired to keep him captivated, weaving its magic around him and YN.

Harry found it useless to try to keep himself concentrated while she clouded his mind, so he gives up, saving the document on his laptop and closing all the tabs for his research . He closed the lid, feeling a mix of confusion and fascination. "You're being silly," he whispered to himself, trying to dispel the enchantment that surrounded him.

But as he lay in bed that night, the image of YN stayed with him, her presence lingering like a sweet summer breeze. And in that moment, he knew that Seaside Haven had more in store for him than he had ever anticipated. Perhaps it wasn't just a town for a summer escape, with a good story—it could be the place where he found something he never knew he was looking for.

To be continued...

#harrystylesslutt #harrystylesfanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fiction #harrystyles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #love on tour #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fandom

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narcissadeville · 2 years ago

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Dream Date | a butch x femme story

It’s almost noon when I leave the house. I almost never go anywhere these days, save to get coffee or food or ever so rarely to browse a store that isn’t online. So I consider this a rare treat. First coffee then, a trip to the bookstore. I’m in search of a specific tome. A book on lesbian nuns of all things, and I suspect the local bookstore might have such a thing. It’s a small enough town, and I happen to live close enough to the town square that I can walk without much trouble so I do. There’s a coffee shop I’ve never been to before on the way according to my phone. Under normal circumstances, I would go to Starbucks as it’s usually the easiest but I figure if it’s on the way I might as well try something new.

The walk was blessedly short and more importantly, it was a beautiful spring day which meant it was just warm enough to be comfortable but not so much as to be sweltering and therefore unbearable to walk in.

The coffee shop is exactly as I would have imagined upon entering, warm, cozy, inviting, and full of life, mostly plant life.

There are a few people ahead of me, so I have some time to study the menu and get a feel for the sorts of drinks they serve. I tend towards tea on account of the fact that coffee makes me jittery, and I see a tea choice that looks appetizing enough and decide to order that. It’s a spicy chai tea with oat milk that looks absolutely divine.

I order my drink and make my way over to the other side of the cafe to wait for my drink. There’s light jazz playing over the radio, mixed with the sounds of quiet conversation. There’s a certain ambiance in this place that feels almost dreamy. I’m not sure if it’s the fairy lights, the music, the plants, or just the fact that exists at all but I can’t help but fall just a little bit in love with the place. Someone calls my name and I take my drink gratefully, and make my way toward the door. There’s a part of me that’s tempted to stay longer. It’s comfortable and the atmosphere draws me in like a siren song and I’m tempted. But there’s a book calling my name so I press on instead. I make my way to the door, lost in thought and tea, and I don’t notice that someone else is coming to the door at the same time, and we run smack into each other, our arms colliding. My tea jostles but thankfully only sloshes a little over the lid.

“Sorry,” I hear a voice say from beside me. I turn towards the sound and almost feel as though my legs might buckle. Easily the most handsome butch I have ever seen in person stands beside me. Looking rather sheepish. They’re wearing a black leather jacket, white t-shirt and black jeans and it’s all I can do not to swoon. Their dark curly hair frames their face perfectly. I’m certain I’m blushing as I stare into the warm pools of their brown eyes. My mouth opens and I attempt to formulate words but all I can manage is the letter I.

After a moment, I regain my composure and say. “Okay,” I feel stupid the moment the words leave my lips, but they don’t seem the least bit bothered by it. They smile and oh I can feel myself blushing again. Their smile is wondrous, and I lose all sense of where I am then and there. Before I know what’s happening, they move and open the door, holding it for me in a sweeping magnanimous gesture that makes me want to blush and giggle and swoon.

“After you,” they say. I blush again and make my way out and back into the street.

“Thank you,” I reply. They smile again, and we turn in opposite directions.

I’m still riding the high of our interaction as I walk down the street toward the bookstore sipping my drink. Trees line the sidewalk to my right and shade the sun's rays from me, a fact for which I am most grateful.

It’s a good drink, but I can’t help but wonder if they’re a regular there.

Should I start coming back? Maybe I might see them there again? I’m half way down the street from the coffee shop when I remember I was going somewhere, and pull out my phone for the instructions. Thankfully I’m not too far off course. I manage to continue the rest of the walk from the coffee shop to the bookstore. This portion of the trek is longer than I expected and most of it is spent reminiscing over the handsome butch I just met.

In my own imagination, I am not shy exactly, it’s just that whenever I see someone I consider attractive, I lose all ability to speak in any sort of coherent way. I tell myself that if they are regular and I have more opportunities to see them in the future it might make it easier to work up a rapport. Oh, who am I kidding? Even if they are a regular, I very much doubt they would talk to me.

After a half an hour of internal monologuing, I reach the bookstore. It’s not a gay bookstore but something about it just feels like it could be. Perhaps it’s just the vibe that all bookstores feel somehow inherently safe to me.

I’ve always loved books, ever since I was a kid. In those days reading felt like a beautiful escape from a humdrum life, now I was lucky if I could work up the energy to read a few pages at a time. I was hoping a story more suited to me would help.

The bookshop was a welcome respite from the outside air which was starting to get considerably more sticky as the afternoon wore on. Or perhaps that had simply been from walking there. Either way I was thrilled to be inside an air-conditioned building and a bookstore no less. The smell of ink and paper immediately filled my nostrils and I felt like I was home.

I had come with a purpose true, but the moment I had arrived I found myself wandering down various isles with no particular purpose in mind. I let my feet carry me in any direction they wanted to, and my eyes sought out any cover or title that looked like it could be interesting. I was so engrossed in my wandering I once more found myself running into a person, this time right into their back. I groaned to myself, embarrassed that I had run into another person twice in the same day.

“Sorry,” I said. They turned around and I would have gasped; once more the same handsome butch from the coffee shop. What were the odds, I wondered? Surely astronomical. It was a smaller town sure but not so small that it was likely that I’d run into them in this exact same store at this particular time and this isle.

They smiled, “Well hello again,” they said. There was a casual demeanor to their tone that made me almost feel at ease. Were I not so damn nervous. I smiled, sure I was blushing again.

“Sorry,” I repeated.

“Don’t be, I’m glad you bumped into me again.”

My mouth hung open at that, and I blinked in search of anything intelligent to say, but came up empty. It is worth noting that I am rarely at a loss for words. I would consider myself rather good with words generally, yet here I was, fumbling for anything resembling a sentence.

“We might want to sit down somewhere, I’d hate for you to run into me and get seriously hurt,” they said.

At this I simply blushed. Say something, my brain hissed at me. “I might enjoy it if you did,” I said. I cringed at myself, had I really just said that?

To my surprise however, they laughed. A deep, mirthful laugh that instantly put me at ease. “How about I take you out to lunch first, and see where the afternoon takes us?”

I blinked, there went my words again. I could hardly believe it, I was actually being asked out, on a date, in person. Was this really how it happened? I had only seen such a thing in films before, I knew I had to respond before they thought I wasn’t interested.

“I’d love to,” I said. Or at least, I thought that’s what I said. I’m pretty sure what I actually said might have been more of a garbled mess of such a phrase. Fortunately for me, they didn’t seem to care. Instead they smiled and said, “Great. What are you in the mood for?”

“I’m pretty new to the area I admitted, but I’m down for whatever.”

“Adventurous, I like that in a girl,” they said as we made our way out of the bookshop, all thoughts of the book I had been planning to purchase completely erased from my head. Adventurous, I thought with a laugh. Nothing could be further from me, but I wasn’t about to tell them that. Outside the bookstore, they turned right toward the parking lot with me trailing behind them like a lost kitten. When they finally stopped it was in front of a motorcycle, it was black and if I was honest the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen. They grinned mounting the bike with ease. “You ever ridden on the back of a motorcycle before?” They asked.

I had two choices. I could lie and potentially risk life and limb for a total stranger, or I could tell them I was scared shitless and admit I'd never even seen a motorcycle up close let alone ridden one.

Naturally, I did the only sensible thing I could do.

“Sure,” I lied trying to mount the bike like they had. The dress I was wearing didn’t exactly lend itself to it, but I didn’t care. As soon as I got on I stared awkwardly at their back.

“You may want to hold on. She’s got a little kick,” they said. I blinked, not seeing anything to hold onto. I had seen in movies girls holding onto their riding partner, but surely she didn’t mean… the engine roared to life and my heart leaped up to my throat. Without thinking I wrapped my arms around her waist for dear life, burying my face in her leather-clad back. She smelled amazing. A mix of leather, and just a touch of musk and cologne. She revved the engine and we took off together out of the parking lot.

It wasn’t so bad, I thought to myself. I had calmed down almost immediately, at least that was until we exited the parking lot and the motorcycle shot down the street at what felt like an unreasonably high speed that caused me to wrap my arms around their waist once more, desperately clinging to the only lifeline I had. They didn’t seem particularly bothered by it. In fact, as they took off down the road, making a bit of a sharper-than-necessary turn, I almost got the impression they were trying to show off for me. This thought was short-lived however when the motorcycle’s engine popped suddenly and bucked me. I clenched my thighs to the metal and gripped them so tight I was sure I would have cracked one of their ribs. When we finally reached our destination, a restaurant I had never seen before it was all I could do not to kiss the ground. I felt as though I had been just taken on a wild ride on a stallion. I carefully extricated myself from the bike and they followed suit, smiling at me. Distinctly I got the impression that they knew I had been lying. No one who had ridden on a motorcycle before would have been that terrified. Thankfully they didn’t call me out a fact for which I will be eternally grateful for forever. The two of us made our way towards the restaurant, their hand at the small of my back. It was all I could do not to blush again. When we reached the door, they moved swiftly to open it for me and not a second later their hand was at the small of my back once more.

It was almost unbelievable how fast they seemed to move.

They had chosen, a quiet diner where we could chose our own seats, we did, the back of the diner, away from other guests. Ours was a half moon booth, they slid into the middle and I slid in the other side, next to them. Without a second thought they wrapped their arm around me and pulled me close. Were it not for the distinct smell of cooking eggs wafting from the kitchen I would have been certain this was a dream.

“I hope you don’t mind being so close,” they said.

“I don’t mind at all,” I replied. How could I possibly? What femme in her right mind would mind?

“I admit I’m not usually this forward,” they said. “But after I ran into you for the second time in the bookstore I thought you can’t let her get away again.”

It took everything in me in that moment not to make a self deprecating comment. Not to say something along the lines of, ‘are you sure you’re talking about me?’ I had promised myself I wouldn’t do that anymore. Still I couldn’t quite stop myself from asking. “Oh, why is that?”

“Well for starters you’re easily the most beautiful femme I’ve ever seen. But besides that… I can’t really explain it.” For a long moment, I had no idea what to say. It’s not that I lack self-confidence per se, but I’m by no means self-absorbed enough or perhaps quite confident enough to call myself the most beautiful femme. Surely this handsome butch has seen many a beautiful femme, I think.

Several years ago, when I was still attempting to date men, I would have assumed this was merely a line to get into bed with me. But this felt incredibly genuine like they really meant it. Unlike with any man, if this was a line, it was going to work. They could have asked me to follow her into a life of crime Bonnie and Clyde style and I would have. Easily.

“Thank you,” I said thought it felt foolish. They smiled.

“I’m just being honest,” they said.

When the server arrived, they ordered for me, another thing I had only ever dreamed of, and they held tight to me for the remainder of our lunch, we talked about everything and nothing, and I still couldn’t get over it. A real date, a date that had come from me doing something different and leaving the house. It felt like a dream, like a fairytale. I was terrified that at any moment I’d wake up back in my bed.

Only I didn’t.

Lunch ended, and we went to see a movie, then strolled the park, then went for a late dinner. The day flew by and the next thing I knew it was nearing midnight. Had we really been out all day? I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so comfortable and joyous and just myself, and I was reticent to let the date end. As they dropped me off back at my house and gave me their number, I knew I couldn’t let them go.

Wrapping my arms around them, I smiled, “You’re welcome to come in,” I said.

They grinned, giving me a look filled with a multitude of promise.

“Much as I would love that and I…” they looked me up and down and let out something between a grunt and a moan that sent shivers down my spine, “I would love to. I have a rule about not sleeping with a girl on the first date.”

It was all I could do not to pout. They must have noticed it too because they smiled and wrapped their arms around my waist. “Can I kiss you?” They asked.

“You can do a lot more than that if you like,” I replied.

They laughed and pressed their lips slowly to mine. I gasped, lips parting to give them entrance. I felt their fingers dig into my hips then as they deepened the kiss. Their tongue exploring my mouth. It was all I could do not to moan into the embrace. It was hands down the best kiss of my life. Their lips trailed down from mine, down my chin, towards my neck. I gasped, letting out a moan as they sucked hard onto my throat. My fingers dug into their back. “Please,” I begged.

“Please what?” They whispered against the flesh of my neck like a prayer. I shivered.

“Please I need more,” I whined.

They smiled, pressed their lips to mine once more, and pulled away. “Just needed to mark my spot,” they said. I whined. “Promise we’ll do this again and I’ll make it very worth your while.”

I shivered at the promise of their words. “I’m holding you to that,” I said. They got onto their motorcycle with a grin, and the last thing I saw was their tail light as they sped off into the night.

Walking back to my room I wondered briefly if I would ever see them again. Or if this had been just a passing-by-night thing. A once in a lifetime fairytale of an event that had happened miraculously not to be repeated.

To my great surprise, my phone vibrated and I pulled it out to find a text from them:

I had a great time today, shall we plan another date for tomorrow? Or later in the week?

I stared at my phone grinning from ear to ear. I could hardly deny to myself it was real now. Shocking though it was. We planned our second date, and as I crawled into bed, exhausted from the long day, I felt all at once as though I was floating on air.

The date of my dreams with the butch of my dreams, I thought to myself. Holy shit I did it.

#femme for butch #femme for stud #femme x butch #femme/butch #femme/stud #femme4butch #femme4stud #story #fiction #short story #short

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