#this is my third time seeing them but this is the closest I’ve ever been

[officialkarinuzumaki]

I’m seeing fall out boy in 3 days 😵‍💫🤩💕

[2pndr]

Dinner In a Winter Wonderland

Hi! This is my first ever fic! Hope you enjoy it :D

Winter x Male Reader Fluff

8.4k words (sorry)

“We’ll only agree if you guys bring along a fourth friend, ok?”

Your three friends all recited to you the conditions a “goddess” had set for the Christmas quadruple date they were dragging you into.

You sat at your desk, speechless as you scanned the pleading faces of your roommates and long-time friends, stunned by their brazen appeals to you. It was probably that last sentence that bamboozled you the most though. Sure you were the closest to them, but it’s not like they were short on other friends. Why did you of all people have to come along?

“Why me of all people?” you asked again, this time out loud.

“Well, apparently, they have a you in their friend group too,” one of your friends began.

“A me?” you scoffed.

“Yeah, a you,” he continued. “Y’know, a stubborn, reclusive homebody who needs to be dragged out of their room every time their friends wanna hang out. All because they enjoy their ‘me time’ a little too much,” he joked, perhaps a bit too accurately imitating your increasingly weak excuses to leave the dorm.

“Ha, ha,” you mocked.

“No seriously! Apparently, her name’s Winter.”

“Winter?” You stifled a snicker. “Like the season? That’s her real name?”

“I mean, that’s what they told us,” your friend replied with a shrug. “Who cares? It’s kinda cute.”

You silently agreed, hiding a smirk as to not concede that your interest was piqued. “So let me get this straight,” you began, folding your arms in an attempt to appear unfazed. “The only reason I’m being dragged along is because you guys need someone to pair up with some girl who—what?—shares my hate for leaving the house? The hell’s in this for me?” You asked, feigning anger.

“Dude, it’ll be a perfect match!” another friend enticed, desperately trying to paint the situation in an appealing light. “You both don’t like leaving your rooms, you both hate meeting new people. It’s like the universe is aligning for you two to meet.”

Did he even realise the irony of that sentence?

“C'mon man, spending Christmas alone in your room three years in a row is some of the saddest shit I’ve ever seen,” The first one remarked.

Well he wasn’t wrong, but you couldn’t let him get any ground.

“Some people can’t help it,” You retorted.

“Well those people probably don’t have a chance to go out with the most attractive women they’ll ever see.”

You scowled, about to add fuel to the fire before your third friend cut you off.

“Think about it,” he chimed in, shifting the conversation away from an argument. “If she’s anything like you, she’ll probably want this whole thing over with as fast as you do.”

“Uh, huh…” You leaned back in your chair, tamed, but staring at the ceiling unconvinced. A girl like you? With how active the rest of the campus was, you found it hard to believe there was actually someone out there like you—someone cynical and uncomfortable with social gatherings of any form. 

To be clear, you didn't have poor social skills—in fact, you’d argue you had a certain way with words—you just avoided any chance to use them. You had a knack in discerning the smallest shift in someone’s expression, adjusting your tone, words and body language to suit.

But that knack was often overshadowed by an unshakable urge to assess, to weigh every syllable and gesture, scanning for the faintest sign of discomfort or misinterpretation.

This hyperawareness turned into a road-block for any conversation. Instead of letting the flow guide you, you’d find yourself scrutinising every word you said the instant it left your mouth, wondering if it had landed right, if it was too much or too little, or if you’d somehow veered into awkward territory.

The more you tried to keep things smooth, the more you’d find yourself caught in these spirals of self-correction, only to create the very awkwardness you’d been trying to avoid. 

So in the rare case you did end up at a social event, it was like you were playing a part. You stuck to the same few openings, the same practised routes for small talk.

There was nothing organic or genuine about the performance, nothing personal or meaningful. It was merely for show—a facade to keep up appearances.

It was all exhausting, and that’s what you had reiterated to your friends time and time again.

Regardless of your scepticism though, a strange part of you was actually a little curious. Not about the date itself—no, that was still a nightmare—but about this mysterious girl who apparently shared your introversions.

“Look, all we’re asking for is one night,” one pleaded, hands glued together as if he was in prayer. “One night! Just hang out with her for a couple hours while we chat up her friends, and you never have to do this again. You don’t have to see her again, talk to her again or anyone else if we ever ask.  We’ll owe you big time.”

“Seriously dude, we’ll pitch in for the PS5 Pro or something!” another added in further pleas.

You let out a long sigh, staring this time down at your desk. Not in a million years would you even consider buying that atrocious excuse for a cash grab, but the sentiment of your friends owing you that colossal amount was admittedly tempting.

And then there was this Winter girl. The one who was apparently as much of a hermit as you were. You couldn’t ignore that meeting her was happening during Christmas, the very time of year you tried to avoid going out the most. But you almost couldn’t help but wonder what kind of person she was, if she really was as closeted as you or just some exaggerated myth your friends had conjured up to lure you out.

It shouldn’t have, but just the idea of her tickled something deep in your brain, flooding your subconscious with various guesses of her character. 

Your mind conjured up an amalgamation of the most attractive women you had seen throughout your life; famous actresses and idols, the cute barista at the Starbucks down the road, that one girl at the airport who caught your eye but you never ended up talking to.  Their looks, personalities, whatever alluring details you could recall were being melted together and forged into what became your own expectation of Winter. 

You imagined a stunning slim and quiet girl—that much was obvious—with milky white hair, and fair complexion. They were traits all befitting of a girl named Winter. But in your mind something about her attitude, her facial expressions… they radiated… cold. It wasn’t unlike how you appeared to strangers—irrationally concealing your timid fear of interaction with a stiff stare and an emotionless face. As  you considered how similar your vision of her felt to you, it was strangely… warm…familiar. 

Within a matter of seconds, your apprehension had transformed to a hesitant desire to meet her. Or rather, this idea of her you had thrown together. 

You sat in a long silence, wrestling with your inner turmoil—your shameful, uncharacteristic urge to discover the truth about this girl. 

Seriously man? You asked yourself. There’s no way in hell she’d look anything like that if she was anything like you. 

Your asshole of a subconscious did have a point. 

But something about this tugged at you in a way you couldn’t help but notice. If this girl was like you, really like you, you had to know.

 “Alright,” you eventually grumbled, putting a hand over your face to suppress the oncoming wave of regret already washing over you. “I’ll go.”

Your friends erupted in cheers, high-fiving and dapping each other up like they had just won themselves a date with the hottest girls on campu–Oh.

“YES! You’re the man!” one of them yelled, giving you a ‘pat’ on the back that almost knocked you out of your chair.

"You won’t regret this!" another exclaimed, jabbing a finger toward you, though deep down, you already kind of did.

“FUCK YEAH!” the last one punched to the sky. “We owe you man,” smiling from ear-to-ear as cheers followed him out of your room.

As you hastily cleared the other two from your territory, you felt the dread settling in. One night, that’s all it was, you told yourself. Just one night with this girl named Winter, who was probably as opposed to this as you were.

What’s the worst that could happen?

---

Before you knew it, you were in your friend’s car, dressed in your Sunday’s best—which, admittedly, was a hastily thrown together fusion of your roommates’ closets.

An attempt had been made to make your less than desirable features appear at least mildly presentable to the outside world. Your hair had been styled with some expensive hair product you could barely pronounce, your caveman scent obscured by some B-list celebrity’s cologne, and your abhorrent posture—honed through years of agonising abuse to your spine—was being corrected by your friends’ frustrated hands what felt like every other second. 

They had half-jokingly, half-100%-seriously subjected you to some correction exercises over the past few days, few of which you actually bothered to attempt. Obviously, the few you had tried didn’t work, as your friend had stopped bothering to correct your posture himself, instead resorting to giving you a stinging slap every time your spine inevitably slumped from upright.

 The swelling of the handprint forming on your back had charitably distracted you from the metric-shit ton of adrenaline coursing through your veins. It caused your breathing to grow heavy and your heart to feel it was going to burst from your chest. A couple sleepless nights and a few too many hours of staring blankly at your PC monitor had transformed your strange curiosity for meeting Winter back into dread. 

You had moronically forgotten you actually had to talk to this girl for a couple hours instead of just confirming if she was similar to you.

Either you forced some kind of pitiful attempt at conversation with her—risking major embarrassment—or both of you succumb to sitting in introverted silence. 

Even if you could properly wrestle with overusing your little talent, the fact was, any attraction whatsoever to a girl caused you to fold like a cheap suit, rendering your ability useless. If Winter was any bit as alluring as your mind made her out to be it would be more than disastrous for you. It would be like every ounce of composure was swapped out for a hyperactive inner monologue—one that left you stumbling over your own thoughts.

As your friend’s car hummed along the bustling holiday streets, your mind continued to spin in overdrive almost as quickly as the neon red and green of the city's Christmas ornaments seemed to appear and disappear all around you. You aimed  to avoid risking any conversation that led to your humiliation, desperately mapping out the possible routes for conversation. This process was standard yet exhaustive at this point—your own RPG dialogue tree being mapped out in your mind.

"Hey, nice to meet you. How’s it going?"

"Fine."

[ No further options.]

You could already feel the weight of the dead-end conversation dragging the both of you down. That wasn’t going to work.

“So, what kind of stuff are you into?"

"Not much."

 [FAILED: Charisma check too low.]

Your mind projected you staring at the ceiling, desperately trying to find something, anything, to say while Winter twiddled her thumbs, wondering out loud with a groan,“Why did I even bother to show up.”

 What the fuck brain? That wasn’t helping your confidence at all.

“Hey, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

"Yeah, same."

[Neutral response. Proceed carefully.]

This felt promising. You could try pushing deeper, maybe ask a follow-up question, but you could already feel how you would screw it all up—one wrong word, one wrong look and kaput.

How about…

[Say Nothing.]

[No response.]

Yeah, that’s probably how it’s gonna go.

The car hit a bump in the road, and so did your only shred of confidence in this turning out well. You sighed quietly to yourself, senselessly running through these hypothetical scenarios in your head, frantically searching for the “good” dialogue option that simply wasn’t available to you.

There was no save scumming in real life, no charisma stat to help you bluff and charm your way through the whole thing, no getting lucky with your dice rolls either. It was just your limited social ability, a few thinly veiled attempts at small talk, and the faint hope that Winter might somehow be interested in having a conversation. It all reminded you why you avoided these kinds of situations in the first place…

You suck at them.

What felt like eternity with your own thoughts was soon interrupted as the car pulled up to the curb. You noticed the Christmas themed sign of the barbeque restaurant in the evening dusk. You stared at it, utterly terrified like it was signalling the entrance to some twisted version of hell—a place where your date, crowds of people, and the inevitable crushing embarrassment of being out of your element awaited—your hell. 

Your friends on the other hand were already pumped, talking over each other in excitement as they recounted for the hundredth time just how hot these girls they scored were. Meanwhile, you were still stuck somewhere between resignation and panic.

Their voices blended into background noise—drowned out by the mental gymnastics you were performing to figure out how to survive the next couple of hours. You hadn’t even walked into the restaurant yet, and you already felt like retreating into the comforting embrace of your bed sheets back home.

As you resolved to follow your friends inside you were instantly hit by a wall of warmth, thick with the smell of grilling meat and the hum of lively holiday celebrants. The restaurant was buzzing—waiters weaving between tables, the sizzling of meats echoing from grills, and laughter rippling across the room like a contagious wave. Already the ‘energy’ in here was too much for you, prompting you to  take a moment to adjust the atmosphere—all while your friends strode in like they owned the place. 

This was the kind of scene you’d typically steer clear of: crowded, chaotic, and packed with people who simply enjoyed the presence of others. The holiday season did nothing to ease your anxiety, doing its part to gather everyone together by filling every seat in the restaurant. You shoved your hands into the unfamiliar pockets of the jacket your friends threw on you, hyper aware of how out of place you felt.

 Your friends were greeted with warm smiles from the hostess—predictably, since they looked like they had just stepped off of the cover of Vogue magazine. Meanwhile, you were certain you looked like you’d rather be anywhere else.

She led you all to a private booth which was, thankfully, designated its own corner far away from the rest of the vivacious dynamic of the restaurant’s other patrons. Your relief didn’t last long though, as your heart leapt into your throat when you spotted four girls already sitting there. Three of them stood up to greet you, all endearing smiles, waves and the obligatory “Merry Christmas.”

Your fear was instantly frayed as the first girl began her introduction. Her name was Karina, and you were taken aback at how uncannily beautiful she was. In fact, it was almost unsettling how flawless she looked. It was like she had been engineered in a lab or generated by some AI algorithm designed to create the perfect face. Everything, right down to her sharp profile and unnaturally smooth skin was other-wordly perfect. A small mole dotted the edge of her chin, like an anchor tethering her otherwise impossibly symmetrical features to reality. She greeted your friends with a poised smile, but there was something behind her eyes—sharp, calculating, and trained on you—like she was sizing you up in particular.

But your mind paid that no attention as the next beauty introduced herself as Giselle—Her confident demeanour being the highlight for you. She moved with an ease that gave the impression she wasn’t fazed by anything or anyone. Her posture was relaxed, yet somehow commanding, exuding an energy that screamed, I’m hot, and I fuckin’ know it. The assertive eye contact she made with each of you as she introduced herself caused you to shrink back, almost out of respect for her authority. In contrast, her voice was steady and warm, but her eyes flicked back to Karina’s every so often, like the two of them were communicating without saying a word.

Then there was Ning Ning, who practically radiated excitement. Her lips curved into a smile that was bright and infectious, the kind that lit up her entire face. She greeted you all with a playful wave that bordered on adorable. Yet there was a switch in her—something in the way her expression shifted mid-conversation from lively and sweet to striking confidence—which could flip in an instant. She seemed to live in the moment though, completely detached from whatever silent exchange was happening between the other two. It was hard to tell if Ning Ning was more girl-next-door or temptress, and that fluidity made her all the more intriguing.

Your friends weren’t exaggerating. Each of them was stunning in their own way—like the kind of women you’d expect to see gracing the pages of a high-fashion magazine or as models strutting down a runway.

Yet, you couldn't help but notice the girl still seated at the inner end of the table, toying with her sleeves as the soft glow of her phone lit her face. Winter, you assumed. She didn’t stand, didn’t do so much as glance briefly at the four of you. But even in her stillness, she drew your attention. Her beauty wasn’t like Karina’s polished perfection or Giselle’s self-assured allure and most definitely not like Ning Ning’s bubbly charm. Winter appeared different—there was something so fundamentally distinct about her that interested you, piqued your curiosity when you thought you were infallible to such feelings. Regardless of what you heard about her, you found yourself encapsulated by nothing but her sheer beauty. 

As your eyes lingered on her you didn’t feel like you were looking at a person. Instead it was as if you were gazing upon the natural landmark of a frost-covered landscape—pure, serene, and silently breathtaking. It was as if she belonged more to the cold elegance of nature than to the warmth of human company. Her presence was subtle yet striking, like the clear, crisp air on a winter morning. The restaurant's soft, amber light caught her pale complexion in a way that made her seem almost ethereal, yet still grounded. Her silvery-white hair cascaded around her face like freshly fallen snow, soft and shimmering, as if her namesake itself had carefully crafted each strand to highlight her delicate features. Somehow, Winter lived up to that paradoxically beautiful expectation you had envisioned, but seeing her in person gave the impression she transcended it.

You stumbled through your own introduction to the rest of the girls, utterly captivated by what most people would consider a bad display of manners. Anybody in your shoes would have had their eyes glued to the trio of goddesses standing before you, but you could barely spare them a second—alright, a third glance. 

Predictably, the small talk that followed didn’t include you. Your friends however—more eager than you’ve ever seen them—quickly launched into banter with Karina, Giselle, and Ning Ning. Normally you would be in awe of how easy they made the whole thing look, but you could only half-listen, your thoughts and eyes constantly drifting toward Winter, who remained seated quietly at the end of the booth.

Eventually, Karina offered you all to sit, prompting one of your friends to shove you along to your side of the table. The little collision knocked you out of the fugue-like state you were in, drawing a quiet cry that caused laughter to erupt around you. Quickly realising that you’d be facing Winter, you hesitantly sat down, your eyes flicking back to her every now and then.

When she finally glanced your way, there was a brief pause, her cool eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, you were caught, held in the silence between you. Her gaze was steady, unwavering, but a hint of vulnerability showed itself as she studied you. Before you knew it, you were staring—completely absorbed by the depth in her eyes. They weren’t just cold or distant as you first thought—they were calm, almost reflective, like a still lake that hid something beneath its surface. The more you looked, the harder it became to pull yourself away.

Seconds passed—maybe more—and you didn’t even realise how long you’d been holding her gaze until your heart gave a sudden jolt, reminding you that you were looking at a person and not nature’s pièce de résistance. Embarrassment shot through you as you quickly broke eye contact, feeling a heat crawl up your neck.

“Winter, right?” Your voice came out much too casual, completely betraying the fact that you were just caught staring at her like an absolute buffoon. How did you already manage to mess this up?

Winter tilted her head ever so slightly, a small flicker of amusement ghosting over her lips before she nodded. She blinked more than once, her lashes fluttering to mask brief hesitation. Her gaze softened just slightly. “Yeah,” she replied simply. Her voice was soft, but clear. There was no hint of awkwardness or hesitation, but the slight shift in her posture, the way her fingers brushed the sleeve of her shirt said otherwise.

You nodded, you’d only asked one question and you already felt like your dialogue options were exhausted. But on the bright side, the mere fact she replied meant things were already going better than they did in your head.

The silence between you both stretched for a beat, then another. Neither of you spoke, but remarkably it felt like the words were there, waiting to be said. Winter’s fingers continued nervously with her sleeve, brushing the fabric in small, rhythmic strokes, while you found yourself looking at empty plates, the table—anything but her. Both of you seemed unsure of what to say next, letting you confidently conclude that she was indeed as nervous as you. You noticed her lips parting as if to speak, only to close again after a moment of hesitation. 

A few more seconds passed before you both spoke at once.

“So—”

“Did you—”

You stopped mid-sentence, catching her eye before you let out a quiet, awkward chuckle. “Uh, sorry. You go first.”

Winter looked down briefly, as if gathering herself. When she lifted her gaze again, there was a softness in her eyes, and a hint of vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. Her thumb brushed the edge of the table, tracing it gently as she glanced back at you. “They had to bribe you too?” She asked timidly, lightly gesturing to your friends who were engrossed with hers.

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah, you could say that. It’s a whole mess, isn’t it?”

Winter nodded, her own smile flickering into existence, delicate but brief. Her voice softened as she admitted, ”These three promised me free food for a week just to get me to show up.” Winter scrunched her face, slanting her eyebrows in an attempt to scowl at them, but failed miserably, producing an adorable pout that was more endearing than anything else.

Your heart may as well have melted right there. 

You laughed softly, buying yourself time to regain your composure. From afar, she was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, but up close? When that cold, hard exterior began to fade, she doubled as the cutest too.

Your little chuckle successfully let you continue the eerily natural flow the two of you had going. “Mine offered to chip in for a game console.”

“So that’s what got you, huh?” Her eyes brightened with amusement, and for the first time, you saw her smile linger just a little longer. It wasn’t just her smile though. A slight accent softened the edges of her naturally sweet tone. Everything she said felt so easy on the ears, so digestible, and you—despite your scepticism and bitterness towards being here—found yourself hungry for more. Your friends would have called you a hypocrite, but in your defence, they both contributed to this perfect image that sat opposite you. You couldn't help but think it was the cutest sight you’d ever seen. 

Perhaps that’s what gave you the strength to say this next part.

“Well not exactly…” You trailed off, breaking eye contact as your fingers fidgeted nervously under the table. 

Winter tilted her head slightly, raising an eyebrow in anticipation like a puppy awaiting a command. God, how was everything she did so adorable?

You leaned in, still avoiding her gaze and turned your head slightly toward the wall, hoping the others wouldn’t overhear what you were about to say.

“I was uh…” You began, almost a whisper as the words struggled to leave your suddenly dry mouth.

This time Winter leaned in, meeting you at a distance a little too close for comfort.

“I was curious about you…”

Your words were like bullets, creating an embarrassing recoil that sent you hurtling back into the headrest, your gaze pointing straight down as a crimson flush seized the skin of your cheeks.

Your friends would have scoffed at how trivial that whole exchange seemed, all the while you felt like a timid middle schooler confessing to his crush. You managed to baffle yourself with your boldness, not daring to look up and see Winter’s reaction.

To your further surprise, your little self-conscious introspection was interrupted by a giggle. Not just any giggle. Winter’s giggle.

You looked up to meet her face—equally as rosy as yours. But in place of your distraught expression was Winter, giggling like a child on a sugar-high. Her laughter was light and melodic, bubbling up like it couldn’t be contained. She leant back covering her open mouth with her hand. Her whole face had lit up, it was the kind of laugh that crinkled her eyes and shook her shoulders ever so slightly. It wasn’t just the sound, though—it was the way she smiled from ear to ear, so unguarded and genuine, a welcome contrast to the shy and distant she showed otherwise.

You lied earlier. This was the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

At first, you were confused by her sudden outburst, but as the infectious warmth of her laughter sunk in, a mutual smile spread across your face. The tension you’d been holding onto for several days seemed to melt away with each lingering note of her laugh. You honestly had no idea what she found so funny, but in the moment, you were just happy to go along with it, confident that you were doing at least something right.

Your friends, noticing her giggling, shared amused glances but didn’t interrupt. From the way they were staring, they were just as surprised as you were at how well this was going. They all held an expression that confessed we didn’t know you had it in you.

Ning Ning too giggled under her breath, playfully nudging Giselle. “Look at that—actual progress,” she muttered teasingly, her tone dripping with mock disbelief.

Karina though, was different. She subtly monitored the interaction, her sharp gaze softened now, intrigued by how Winter was opening up. It felt like she approved though, commending you in getting Winter out of her shell. She stayed silent though, still content to just observe.

Winter’s adorable outburst slowly ebbed, her shoulders still shaking slightly as she tried to catch her breath. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, an adorable mix of bashfulness and amusement colouring her features.

“So…” she began meekly, eyes flickering down before meeting yours again. “Do I live up to your expectations?” Her tone was soft, tentative, as if she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer.

You were caught off guard by Winter’s own intrepid addition to your conversation, feeling your face heat up as you struggled to find the right words. 

I—well…” You exhaled, trying to pull together the honesty that was suddenly a challenge to articulate in her presence. “You’re not what I expected,” you admitted, a gentle smile finding its way onto your face. “I don’t think I could’ve pictured someone quite like you, even if I’d tried.” 

The sudden spark of vulnerability in Winter’s expression tugged at something in you. You realised your answer might’ve sounded too cryptic, maybe even evasive. The faint quiver of her brow and roll of her Adam's apple told you she wasn’t sure how to take that.

You cleared your throat, glancing up at her cautiously as you explained, “I mean that in a good way!” Winter had a beauty that seemed too obvious, too stunning to need validation, yet you couldn’t help but want to say it aloud. “I thought you’d be stunning and well…you are.” Winter turned away sharply, hiding her flushing face with a hand. “I just thought that you’d be a lot more.. distant. But meeting you here, seeing you laugh and smile…” you were thinking of an eloquent way to put this, but you found yourself beholden to the truth right now. 

Winter was having this… effect on you. You weren’t one to ‘open up’ or ‘talk about their feelings’ and yet you felt compelled to here. “Seeing you laugh and smile… I can’t help but think it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” You had no idea where this newfound confidence was coming from, but you had a sneaking suspicion it was spurred on from what you’d just described.

Winter’s cheeks deepened from a soft pink to a vibrant flush, and she let out a shaky breath. Her fingers lingered over her features, like she was trying to shield herself from the intensity of the moment. Her eyes darted back to you and the delicate gleam in her gaze made your heart skip. 

“Really?” she murmured, her voice barely audible, as though she feared saying anything louder might shatter the fragile honesty between you. She dropped her hand from her coloured cheeks, her eyes tracing your face for confirmation. “You really think that?”

You nodded, the sincerity in your gaze unwavering. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” You chuckled softly, hoping to lighten the air. 

Winter’s shoulders began to relax, she herself not realising that they were glued to her neck. Her face remained flushed, but the tightness in her posture had vanished, leaving her more relaxed and open in how she sat.

“Thank you…” she let out. Her voice remained soft, but they certainly carried more weight.

“I’ll admit I’m surprised too…” She hesitated, glancing away, lips curving into a soft smile. “I thought you’d be just like everyone else…” You listened attentively, holding her gaze while she spoke tenderly, honestly.

“So I didn’t expect you to be…well, this easy to talk to,” she admitted, rubbing up her arm. “You don’t feel like everyone else, all practised lines and smooth talking,” she let out a faint chuckle. “ You make mistakes, you slip up. You’re like me. And um… cute too.” It was your turn to look away, your own cheeks starting to heat up. “So there’s something really nice about that...”

 You pinched yourself under the table. This was going too well for you. This had to be a dream.

“I’m glad you think that,” you told her with a smile. Your voice was lower and steadier than you’d expected, though a trace of disbelief lingered beneath your words. Because, truthfully, you could never have imagined this going so well—not in a million lifetimes. 

To your absolute delight, Winter sent you another wide smile. You didn’t think it could get much wider, but somehow she pulled it off.

You hadn’t realised it till she brought it up, but with Winter, you didn’t need to use those memorised openers or routes. She enticed you in such a way that just encouraged you to just… be you. Everywhere else you went you always felt an expectation to act like everyone else, to sound like them. But in the short time you’ve been around Winter, you hadn’t felt that at all. Was it because you two were similar? 

“So,” You began, searching for your answer. “I take it you’re not a big fan of all this?” You gestured to the six other residents of the table, and by extension the rest of the restaurant.

Winter raised an eyebrow, leaning back into her chair.  She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs under the table, almost like she was trying to ground herself. “More or less. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate people... I just like my space, y’know? Too much noise, too many people... it feels like I’m in the wrong place.” She paused, glancing briefly at the rest of the table. “But you get it, right?”

“More than I care to admit,” you replied with a sigh, feeling some strange sense of relief wash over you. “It’s exhausting. I never know what to say, or how to keep up.”

Winter’s lips curved upward again, knowingly. She seemed to relax even more, sinking into the conversation as much as she did her seat. "Exactly. It always feels like everyone has these… scripts. Like they know exactly what to say and when to say it." She gestured lightly toward your friends, still engrossed in their own lively conversations. "But it’s… difficult. It’s all tiring,” She confessed with a little pout. “It doesn't feel natural or genuine to me, it feels like I'm… like I'm…”

“Like you’re playing a character,” you finished, taking the words right out of her mouth.

Her eyes widened a fraction, a glimmer of recognition passing through them. ��Exactly!” she rejoiced. A quiet laugh escaped her, one that sounded relieved. “All our friends can happily be themselves, but we’re stuck acting like someone else.”

As Winter continued, you noticed a subtle shift in the way she spoke. It wasn’t just about her anymore—she was talking about the both of you. There was something comforting about the fact that she felt like you were in this together, like she saw a bit of herself in you. You weren’t just sharing a conversation anymore—it was an understanding. 

You nodded, staring into her opulent orbs as if she were a reflection of yourself.

But before either of you could say more, Karina’s voice cut through the air, pulling you both back into reality.

“Hey, are you two lovebirds ready to order?” she teased.

You blinked and glanced around, realising that everyone else had been staring at you—impatient, but knowing smiles all around. Even the waiter at the head of your table, pen poised and all, gave you a subtle, approving nod. 

“Oh, uh…” You stammered, feeling a rush of heat crawl up your neck. You turned to glance at Winter, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you. Her eyes, wide and glimmering, were so close that you could see the subtle flecks of silver and blue swirling within them. The space between you was almost nonexistent; you were close enough that you could feel the warmth of her breath, your noses almost grazing. Wait, what? The realisation hit you both at once, and in an instant, you jolted back into your seat, wide-eyed and startled, your heart pounding from the unexpected proximity.

Winter did the same, recoiling sharply and causing a small tremble in the table. Her face flushed a deep, rosy pink, the sudden burst of colour creeping from her cheeks down to her neck. 

“I’ll have the—”

“Could I have—”

 You both started at once, then stopped, exchanging an awkward, embarrassed laugh. You gave a little nod, gesturing for her to go first. 

“ I’ll have the…” 

Winter’s voice trailed off as she scanned the menu in a hurry, cheeks still rosy. She managed to mumble her order, then you fumbled your way through yours right after, both of you clearly rattled but trying to play it cool.

As the waiter left the table, a heavy silence settled over you and Winter. The energy from before—where genuine laughter and soft words had filled the space between you two—seemed to have dissipated. Now, you found yourself unable to speak, the memory of that fleeting, close encounter hanging thickly in the air, making it difficult to breathe. It rendered thinking of something to say practically impossible.

You glanced at Winter, only to find her just as quiet. She was staring at the menu again, though you knew she wasn’t really reading it. Her fingers brushed along the page absentmindedly, putting in no effort whatsoever to make her rapid flicking believable. Every so often, her eyes would dart toward you, only to quickly return to the menu the second she thought you might notice.

Despite the tension, a sense of relief came over you. The silence gave you an opportunity to collect yourself, to push back the storm of emotions swirling around inside you. You sank a little further into your chair, quietly thankful for the momentary ceasefire. 

Your mind wandered to all those couples who roamed the city streets—it was the bitter truth that you wouldn’t fit in as one of them. The way you’d always seen yourself didn’t align with how those people acted: smiling and talking for what felt like forever. For years on end you considered yourself emotionally unavailable, selfish with any time you had.  Yet, here you were, sitting across from Winter, someone who was...different. Someone who made you feel like, maybe—just maybe—you were capable of being one of those couples.

You shook your head slightly, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came. No, that kind of thing didn’t happen to people like you. You were reading too much into it, weren’t you? It had to be just the heat of the moment, the proximity playing tricks on your mind. The sincerity in her gaze, the warmth of her breath—it was just...well, it was nothing, really.

But then why was your heart still racing?

Winter shifted slightly in her seat, her eyes still trained on the menu. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but stopped herself, the words catching before they had a chance to escape. You could almost feel her nerves mirrored in your own chest.

You too thought about saying something—anything—to break the silence, but every possible word felt clumsy in your mind. You were far too embarrassed to speak up, but at the same time, you wanted to recover the soft energy that radiated between the two of you—the thrill of a conversation where you felt at ease, where you could be you. 

"Sorry, about… uh, that," you forced out, sending her a sheepish smile. “I didn’t mean to make things weird.” There was no reason for you to take responsibility, but you assumed it would ease her if she was absolved of fault. After all, it would have eased you.

Winter shook her head quickly, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “Trust me, if anyone made things weird, it was me.” You couldn't help but laugh—she was trying to do the exact same thing.

“Don’t worry about it, Winter,” you assured, her name slipping out instinctively.

There was a shift in her posture as her name escaped your lips, subtle but noticeable. She uncrossed her legs under the table and leaned forward ever so slightly, her fingers nervously playing with the edge of her sleeve again. She seemed on the verge of saying something important. You could sense it in the way she glanced at you—anxious eyes, cheeks flushing scarlet.

Her lips pressed together for a moment, then softened as if she’d finally made up her mind. Her eyes met yours, letting you peer into that reflective lake once again. But this time, you could almost make out what was below— she was letting down a wall, one you’d wager few have ever seen behind.

 She took a breath, her chest rising and falling with a quiet resolve, and then, in almost a whisper she spoke.

 “Please. Call me Minjeong.” 

The simplicity of the words didn’t match the weight they carried. There was something so incredibly personal in her request, something that felt like a secret being shared between just the two of you. Her gaze stayed locked on yours, as if waiting to see how you’d react, her vulnerability laid bare.

“M-Minjeong,” you stuttered delicately, the name feeling both foreign and intimate on your tongue, like you were stepping into a space no one else had been invited to. 

Minjeong’s expression softened even more, a glimmer of relief flashing across her eyes. She let out a breath, one she seemed to have been holding in anticipation of your response. A curve played across her lips. It was pure, unguarded. You almost could see the warmth radiating off of her, like this simple act of you saying her name had drawn you two closer.

“I— I like the way you say it,” she confessed quietly.  Her voice was shy, as if she wasn’t used to hearing her own name spoken aloud.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry, unsure of how to respond but feeling the gravity of the moment pull you deeper into her orbit. The vulnerability in her tone, the way her eyes softened when she looked at you, made everything feel so surreal. You had no idea what to say next, your mind scrambling for the right words, but none seemed enough.

Multiple pairs of eyes fell on you from around the table, but neither you nor Minjeong were in the right state to acknowledge it. As far as you were both concerned, you two were the only people on Earth right now.

Before you could manage a reply, Minjeong spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “Most people just call me Winter. It’s easier for me… less personal.” She glanced down at the table, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the edge of her sleeve. “But I dunno…” She trailed off. “Minjeong feels right with you.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and meaningful, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were seeing something fragile. It was like she was giving you a piece of herself, trusting you to hold it gently.

“Minjeong,” you repeated, this time more certain. “It’s a beautiful name.”

She met your gaze again, her eyes shining with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “Thanks,” she murmured, a shy smile tugging at her lips, but this time, there was no hesitation in the way she looked at you. No walls, no pretence. Just Minjeong, in all her quiet, ethereal beauty.

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest, the kind you hadn’t experienced in years. It was like being a teen again, that rush of excitement and nervous energy coursing through you—the way it used to when you’d catch your crush’s eye across the room and feel your heart race. But this was different—it was deeper. As you sat there, looking at Minjeong, you realised it wasn’t just her beauty or the way she had let you in. It was the feeling she stirred in you, something you thought you’d long forgotten. She wasn’t just someone who caught your eye—she made you feel alive again. Like you were rediscovering that fluttery, intoxicating rush from your youth, but unlike then it wasn’t fleeting. There was a quality to it that you just couldn’t articulate—your years of social isolation, your unending cynicism towards basic human emotion left you that way. 

But you tried, tried to put a label on this unfamiliar feeling. You searched your mind for a word, a description, anything that could encompass what was building in your chest, but nothing came close. It was a bewildering sensation that refused to fit into the neat definitions you knew.

The tension in your mind dissipated the moment the waiter brought the food, and you watched as everyone’s attention turned to their meals. The table filled with idle chatter and silverware scraping against plates, grounding you back to the present. You took a steadying breath, grateful for the pause and the warmth of the meal as it cut through the delicate web that had woven itself between you and Minjeong.

Still, you couldn’t help but notice her in the little pauses and movements—the way her eyes sparkled with each glance around the table, her small, quiet smile at each bite. Even now, Minjeong’s presence felt magnetic, she occupied her space without demanding it, a rare grace that felt refreshing. Each time she looked up, she met your eyes with a soft, almost bashful smile that sent an echo of warmth through you. It made you want to reach out, to learn more, to let her know how much she’d already begun to matter to you.

The conversation around the table grew louder, but your own exchange with Minjeong stayed quiet and gentle. You spoke in low tones, sharing snippets about each other’s lives. Every glance, every subtle word between you seemed to deepen the quiet understanding you shared. Gone was your lacking composure, the insatiable need to assess and please. Your exchange with Minjeong felt like a safe space, a judgement-free zone to be yourself in public. You’d explain to her all your nerdy hobbies, and she would listen with genuine attentiveness, her eyes adorably lighting up when you’d find something else in common. In return, you found yourself hanging onto every word she offered back, falling deeper and deeper into the conversation as she opened herself up to you

And when there were lulls—as there inevitably were between introverts such as the two of you—you both found comfort even in the silence. It was strange, feeling so drawn to someone you had known for only a few hours. The part of you that usually resisted connections seemed to fall silent in her presence. And as she leaned in closer to share an amused thought, her fingers playing absently at the edge of her napkin, you felt something within you shift.

What was this feeling, exactly? You had tried to put it into words, only to come up empty. You were someone who could gauge how a person was feeling from body language alone, like you could measure and judge everything they felt. But when it came to yourself—your feelings, your emotions— you came up short. 

But as the evening wore on and the rest of the table grew quieter, you found yourself looking at Minjeong with a soft certainty. From the way Minjeong looked at you, you got the impression she was struggling with the same dilemma. But you didn’t need to name this undefined feeling that stirred in you. Every shared glance, every smile that lingered a beat too long—these were all the words you needed. There was an understanding—unspoken yet undeniable—that whatever this was, it was real. And in that moment, with the quiet warmth shared between you two, it was enough.

---

You emerged from the restaurant, taking in the brisk air of the Christmas evening. Typically, retreating back into the bustling street was your first step in your retreat to the solitary comfort of your dorm room. It let you breathe a sigh of relief for escaping whatever social event you had been forced into. 

But tonight? Tonight your steps were unhurried, in fact you felt the urge to linger. Tonight, Minjeong was by your side, her soft smile mirroring your own. The breath you let go this time was instead a remorseful one, a signal that your time together was almost over. Of course as much as she looked the part, the girl before you wasn’t some unreachable, otherworldly angel—she was real, and very much contactable. 

You both watched from afar as your friends exchanged phone numbers with Karina, Giselle and Ning Ning. On any other day, you would have looked on in unspoken envy,but alas, tonight was different. You stared at the new contact sitting in your phone—a beautiful name befitting of an equally beautiful woman, punctuated by two snowflakes either side of it. 

“Minjeong,” it read. Simple, familiar now, but it held a weight you’d never thought a name could carry.

You grinned, feeling a warmth unlike any the night’s chill could steal away. The white-haired girl handed your phone back to you, sending a sincere smirk your way. 

“Make sure to call me, okay?” 

Her tone was light and gentle, but her eyes were serious, like this meant more to her than anything else.

“Of course,” you assured. There was nothing in this world that could make you shatter the joy reflected in that smile.

Without warning, she stepped forward, instantly closing the distance between you.  Her arms wrapped around you—warm, gentle and tentative. For a moment, you were too stunned to react, but the heat of her body—which was now flush to yours—quelled any concern.  Instinctively, your arms folded around her, drawing her closer, absorbing her presence. The soft scent of her hair drifted up to you, and you felt her heartbeat against your own.

“Thank you for tonight.” She whispered, her soft voice muffled by your chest.

You didn’t know how long you two were standing there, pressed together as one, but in the moment it didn’t matter. When she finally pulled away, you saw her face, beaming like the sun shines.

“Have a wonderful night,” she said, her cheeks flushed, mirroring the festive glow of the streets around you.

“It already has been,” you replied, your heart full as you returned a gentle, loving smile.

Love. You chuckled. 

Maybe that’s what this was.

---

If you got here thank you much for reading my first ever fic! I know there's a lot of filler here which could very easily be removed, but I really just wanted to keep everything I'd written. In the future, I'll make sure everything's more streamlined.

But apart from that I'd love for some constructive criticism. Thanks again!

[azzibuckets]

Paper Rings [Part 6/10 | Paige Bueckers]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: the road to recovery

word count: 1.4k

masterlist w/ all parts

PRESENT DAY

You wrung your hair out with a towel, trying to get the chlorine out. You played for the club water polo team at UConn since they didn’t have an official, NCAA-organized team. You knew this sport didn’t hold much weight when you told others you were a student athlete, but water polo was what you loved, and you threw yourself into it, always being the first in the pool and the last to get out, swimming the extra laps, and bringing the energy to every game.

Ella, one of your teammates, snuck up from behind you and wrapped you in a hug. “Good job today,” she giggled, water from her hair dripping onto your shoulder.

Today had been the last tournament game of the season, and your last ever game with the seniors. Ella was one of your closest friends on the team and unfortunately one of those seniors, and you knew that you were going to miss her bad.

“Please don’t graduate,” you groaned, returning her hug. “Don’t leave me here.”

“As much as I’ve loved playing with you, I’m ready to leave college,” Ella admitted. “Once my finals are done, I’m out.”

Soon her family joined you two, congratulating you two on our big win. They adorned Ella with candy leis and stuffed bouquets of flowers in her arms, then squished the two of you in for a picture.

“So cute!” Ella’s grandma, Lily, gushed. She came over to squeeze your cheeks. “You’re such a darling. Where’s your family?”

You blushed at the attention. Lily was one of the sweetest women you’d ever met. “I’m not a senior, so I told them not to worry about coming out,” you explained.

“Oh?” Lily quirked her eyebrow. “That’s too bad! It’s still the last game of the season, which is pretty important. Good thing your friend came to cheer you on!”

You tilted your head quizzically. “What do you mean? My friends couldn’t make it.”

Lily looked taken aback. “Oh, I must’ve gotten things mixed up. She didn’t say she was your friend, but she’s been to several of your games, and she knows so much about you, I just assumed!”

“She?” you furrowed your eyebrows, not really understanding what Lily was saying.

The older lady nodded enthusiastically, wrapping her hands around yours. “I always forget her name, honey, but she’s a very nice girl, very tall with blonde hair. I recall her saying once that she plays basketball here!”

At that, Ella nudged you, a confused look in her eyes. “No way. Is she talking about Paige?” You blinked in disbelief before you swiveled back to her grandma.

“Wait, I’m sorry. You said she’s been to multiple of my games?”

“Well, she always comes a little late and leaves a little early, but she’s been to at least five games,” Lily responded. “I didnt talk to her until the third or fourth game, until I overheard her explaining to someone else about how the game worked. She talked about you, said you were amazing and worked so hard. She always knows how many goals you scored too!”

You froze, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts. You and Paige had talked last week for the first time in a year, but from what Lily was saying, she must’ve been at your games spanning across your season from the last few months. You weren’t sure what to do with this piece of information. Paige had been so dismissive of you that night you’d gotten into an argument, made it seem like she wanted nothing to do with you. And now she’s been attending your games? She obviously hadn’t wanted you to find out, which she had done a pretty good job of. You’d told her before that you don’t ever look at the audience in the stands during games; the people there made you nervous, and it was hard to see in the water anyways. So she’d taken advantage of that, coming in late and leaving early. So if she didn’t want you to know, why come?

As these thoughts plagued your mind, Ella gently laid a hand on your elbow. “I gotta go with my family now, but call me later, alright?” she said gently.

You nodded distractedly, rushing to gather my things and go home so you could process in peace.

—————————

“Where were you?” KK questioned as soon as Paige walked into the lounge. The shorter girl was sprawled out on the couch, a pillow supporting her chin as she scrolled through her Tiktoks.

“Are you ever not on Tiktok?” Paige teased, slapping her on the head before plopping down next to her.

KK guffawed. “I know you’re not talking. I might have to block you with all the thirst traps you’re posting. The edits are getting less and less cordial.”

Paige rolled her eyes, grabbing KK’s phone before throwing it to the end of the coach. KK shot her a menacing glare before crawling to retrieve her phone. “You didn’t answer my question, P Boogers.”

“I was just walking around campus,” Paige replied. It technically wasn’t a lie, because she had walked from the pool deck to Werth.

“Lies.” KK regarded her with a confident smirk as she wagged her phone. “I checked your location.”

Paige didn’t like where this was going.

“I checked your location,” KK repeated, “and you were at the pool!” She smiled triumphantly at that, as if she had just caught Paige red handed.

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Okay, so what? I was walking by and I saw a game going on, so I decided to watch. I watch basically every women’s sport on campus.” When KK continued to look at her with that infuriating smirk on her face, Paige started rambling. “I mean, it would be discrimination by not going to the game. You know I’m the biggest supporter of women in sports. Water polo is so underrated and-,”

“Okay, chill out,” KK interrupted, holding her hands up in surrender. “But you seem to be at the pool deck a lot. Like it’s getting borderline creepy.”

The taller girl shrugged. “It’s not like Y/N knows I go.“ She perked up, as if she just remembered something. “She played so good today, KK. She scored three goals, and one was from half, and it was a buzzer beater lob.”

KK shook her head. “Damn, P. This girl’s got you wrapped around her pinky, and you guys don’t even talk any more. Which kinda sucks.” KK flopped backwards, staring up at the ceiling. “We were just getting close when you guys broke up. She was really cool.”

Paige bit her bottom lip. She hated herself every day for how your friendship had ended, and she didn’t need her friends on her ass about it too. “We didn’t break up,” she corrected. “We never dated. And yeah, I know it sucks bro. I miss her too.”

“Why don’t you guys just talk it out? Like, you guys were best friends. I’m sure she misses you too,” KK advised, a hopeful look in her eyes. Paige felt a wave of guilt crash over her. She always thought about how the end of your friendship affected her, but she always forgot about how it impacted her teammates too. They had absolutely loved you, the way you showed up to all their games to support them and brought them freshly baked cookies to practice during hell week. You were funny and quick witted, and they truly saw you as one of them. And all of that Paige had ruined.

“I’m sorry, KK,” Paige apologized. “It’s just really fucking hard.”

KK nodded slowly. “Okay, good thing she’s coming to senior night then! You can talk to her then.”

“She’s what?” Paige lurched up, rigid.

“Nika said she wanted to go to senior night but tickets were all sold out, so she had to ask Nika if any of us had leftover family tickets. And I do,” KK gleefully informed Paige, pleased at her shocked reaction.

“You guys are actually gonna drive me insane,” Paige breathed out, slumping back in her seat. She could feel a migraine coming on.

“You better make a move or something at the game, Paige. I’m serious. We’re tired of you pining over her like this,” KK said.

Paige slowly exhaled. The thought of seeing you again filled her with a sort of nervous excitement, like a school girl counting down the minutes to see her hallway crush. But anxiety pooled in the pit of her stomach. You hated her, Paige was sure. She wasn’t used to rejection, and you gave it to her so easily last week. But Paige knew she’d have to suck it up if she’d want you back. And God, she wanted you.

——————-

1 WEEK LATER: SENIOR NIGHT

Paige dribbled the ball between her legs. She closed her eyes, trying to relish the feeling of being here in Gampel on her senior night. She wasn’t too worried about the actual game; they were only playing Georgetown. But today she would be announcing her plans on returning next year. And today, there’d also be you.

As much as she wanted to see you, Paige hoped that the family ticket that KK gave you weren’t court side. She would have a difficult time focusing on the game if you were right there, studying her every move.

After the senior night ceremony wrapped up and the game began, Paige forced herself to block out all the noise in her mind. This was basketball, and she just needed to come out and do what she normally did. She remained focused while playing, and she only saw you towards the end of the third quarter when she got subbed out for a break. She almost lost her breath when she saw you, casually sitting court-side (damn you KK). You weren’t looking at her, but were focused on the game. You stood up and cheered in excitement when Aaliyah scored a layup, and Paige admired how naturally gorgeous you were, with your eyes sparkling and mouth turned up into a bright smile. Her fingers itched with the urge to touch you, to hold your cheek in her hand and dig her nose into your hair to smell your sweet vanilla conditioner and nip the sensitive skin right under your ear. She wanted to kiss away the smile on your lips, kiss you til neither of you could breathe. But she couldn’t.

Soon the game ended, but Paige didn’t head back to the locker room with the rest of the girls. Mustering up her courage, she tried to walk as confidently as she could to where you were packing up your things from your seat.

“Hey.”

You froze at her voice. Pursing your lips, you looked up.

Paige stayed silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. After you raised an eyebrow expectantly, she rushed to say, “You like the game?”

You smiled genuinely then. “Course I did. The team played great, as always. Aaliyah was killing it out there.”

Paige had always loved how you loved her teammates, but now she felt nothing but jealousy, that the only reason she could get you to smile was by talking about the team. Paige bit the inside of her cheek. “Thank you for coming.”

Irritation flooded your face. “I didn’t come for you.” That was a definite lie. You had wanted to come watch Paige on senior night. You knew how important this was to her, how much she loved playing for UConn. You wouldn’t have missed it for the world (and definitely not because you realized Paige had been silently supporting you at your games this entire time) which is why you had to awkwardly reach out to Nika to beg for tickets like a dog with scraps.

“No yeah, of course,” Paige stumbled over her words. “I was just saying, you know, thanks, in a broad sense from the entire team?”

You almost giggled as you observed Paige’s nervous behavior. But you didn’t want to give her any false hopes that you guys were okay, so you bit your lip to stop your laugh.

“Listen, I know we’re not…” Paige vaguely gestured between the two of them. “But the team’s really missed you, and I know they really want you to come to Nika’s tonight to celebrate. The coaches will be there, so there’s not gonna be any drinks or funny business.”

“Yeah, I know. Nika texted me,” you sighed, fiddling with the ends of your hair. “But it’s been a really long night.”

“You don’t have to stay for long,” Paige said. “And I’ll like, stay away on the complete opposite side of the room, if you want me to. But come for KK and Nika and the rest of the girls. Please.”

You melted under Paige’s hopeful look, and ducking your head, you said shyly, “Okay, yeah. I’ll be there.”

Out of reflex, Paige reached up to touch your elbow in gratitude, but you quickly dodged, lamely covering it up by swiftly gathering your hair and putting it in a ponytail. The light in Paige’s eyes dimmed, and she crossed her arms awkwardly. You cursed at yourself for making things so tense.

“Well, I gotta do some press then change. I’ll see you later maybe?” You only nodded in response, and Paige gave you a weak, half hearted smile before jogging off.

[dindjarindiaries]

Rush

summary: You and Hunter have to make a risky escape when the end of a mission goes sideways, though even an exit gone wrong has a bright side.

pairing: sergeant hunter (tbb) x reader

tags: canon-typical violence, light angst, kissing/sexual themes, fluff

rating: T

word count: 3.478k

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

Thunder crackled overhead, and no later did you start feeling the droplets of rain that ricocheted off the trees surrounding you. With a huff, you tried in vain to press yourself harder against the rough bark, as if the canopy of leaves would somehow give you cover from the oncoming storm. “Great,” you muttered. “This is just what we needed.”

“At least it’ll cool us off,” Hunter offered, tilting his helmet as he kept his blaster lifted in his hand. He spoke without moving from his post, which happened to be the tree across from yours.

You raised an amused eyebrow at him. “Ever the optimist.”

Hunter chuckled. “I’m trying my best.” He touched his fingers against his helmet and spoke into the comms. “Time’s winding down, Echo. How close are you two?”

“We’ve nearly got it,” Echo responded. “I’ve gotten access, but Tech just has to decrypt a few more sequences.”

You and Hunter watched another patrol of guards stroll around the corner of the safehouse Echo and Tech had snuck into. It was the third you had seen in the past ten minutes, which confirmed their suspicions were rising. Your squad had over welcomed their stay.

“There’s a third patrol group,” you warned them.

“Make that four,” Wrecker added. “Omega and I see a new group, too.”

You and Hunter shared a cautious look. His finger tapped his blaster a few times before he spoke into the comms again. “Tech?”

“Thankfully, I work well under pressure.” The tapping of Tech’s fingers along his datapad could be heard in the background of his comm. “All of Cid’s requested intel has at last been decrypted and uploaded. I must say, I find it utterly intriguing that she—.”

“Is this relevant, Tech?” Hunter’s tone was short with concern, not anger.

Tech’s sigh was audible over the comms. “I suppose it can wait. Echo and I are making our exit now.”

“Great.” With that, Hunter lowered his blaster, though he kept it close. You did the same with your own as you kept your keen eye on the latest patrol. Tech and Echo were getting out the same way they got in, and you and Hunter were closest to that exit point. Your focus would guarantee their safety.

As the rain turned into a downpour, however, it was harder to see. You squinted and blinked a few times when raindrops cascaded from your brow down to your lashes, eventually raising your arm to your eyes in a vain attempt to dry them. Your clothes had already started to stick to your soaked skin.

“You okay over there?” Hunter’s voice was yet again full of concern as you lowered your arm to look at him.

“I’m fine.” You offered him a nod for further reassurance. “You’re just lucky you have a helmet.”

Hunter began to raise his hands to the sides of his helmet. “You can have it if you need it.”

Warmth that was much more welcome than the tropical planet’s humidity swelled inside your chest as you shook your head. “That’s sweet, honey, but I’ll be fine.”

Hunter lowered his hands and nodded. His visor returned to the sight of the building in the distance even as he continued to speak to you. “I like it when you call me that.”

You chuckled to yourself. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s…”

Hunter trailed off, causing you to look from the blurry view of Echo and Tech’s exit point over to him. His entire body was tense as his visor looked just beyond you, and it became apparent that his senses had alerted him to something new. You furrowed your brow and prepared to ask him about it when you heard the sound of a growl just behind you.

“Sunny.” Hunter’s voice was a low and worried warning. “Don’t move.”

You slowly turned your head over your shoulder and felt your heart leap into your throat. There was a creature at least twice your size standing just behind you, a four-legged beast with long talons and two rows of eyes. It flashed its massive teeth at you as it growled once again.

Your panicked instincts took over, but before you could act out on them, Hunter lunged over to muffle your scream and keep you in place. His gloved hand absorbed the sound as his other arm wrapped around your waist. “Don’t. Move.”

You tried to control your breathing as your gaze stayed locked on the creature’s, but the louder it growled at you, the more difficult that task became. It took a step closer, and you gripped Hunter’s arm and wrist, lowering his hand from your mouth. “Hunter…”

“I’m watching.” His own steady breaths guided yours as his armored chest rose and fell behind you. For a moment, you really thought it would be okay.

Then, the creature roared, and Hunter raised his blaster and shot it so fast that it was nothing more than a flash in your memory.

Keeping his arm on your waist for a moment, Hunter tugged you away, leading you in a new direction. “Come on!”

You snapped back into battle mode as you diligently followed him. “Where are we going?”

“We can’t evade this thing on foot,” Hunter insisted, guiding you through the trees as the creature followed. You didn’t need Hunter’s enhanced senses to know it was only getting closer and closer. “I saw some speederbikes by the other exit point.”

“Won’t they see us stealing their equipment?”

Hunter gave his helmet a tilt even as he ran. He continued to raise his voice above the sound of the storm. “I have a feeling they already know we’re here.”

Then came the first blaster shot. You ducked down and glanced to your right, seeing the patrol group from earlier taking their aim at you and Hunter. “Oh, great! Another thing to avoid!” You fired back at them, though the attempt was pointless as the downpour blurred their distant images. “I could really use some of that optimism right about now!”

“Just stay close!” Hunter also fired back some shots at the patrol, which was thankfully composed of some poor shooters. He artfully dodged each tree and other obstacle as he led you forward, and soon, he was pointing at something ahead of him. “Here!”

You saw the outline of the speederbike just before Hunter hopped onto it. He waited until you had fallen in place behind him to push it forward, but even with the sound of its loud engine and the pouring rain around you, you could hear the other bikes following you in close pursuit. “We’ve got company!”

“Hold on!” Hunter took a sharp right, causing you to tighten your grasp on his middle for stability. Once he had straightened the bike out again, you reached back with your blaster and started to take aim at your pursuers.

“What’s causing that blaster fire?” Echo asked over the comms. “It’s impossible to see anything in this storm.”

“We’re in a bit of a situation,” you informed the squad, taking another few shots before holding tight to Hunter as he banked left. “We’re handling it, though. Did you get out okay?”

“Echo and I have rendezvoused with Wrecker and Omega,” Tech answered. “We are en route to the ship.”

“We’ve got a patrol hot on our trail,” Hunter managed to say even as he steered the bike. “We’re not heading back to the ship until we lose them.”

“Do you want some help?” Wrecker asked, and his tone revealed his desire to see some action.

“Negative, Wrecker.” Hunter paused as he went right, and you nearly lost your grasp on him thanks to how slick his armor had become. He set a hand over yours to keep it secure. “I don’t want them knowing there are more of us. Just get the ship ready to go.”

“You’ve got it, Sarge.”

“Be careful!” Omega’s genuine request managed to make you smile even as you blasted a few more times. None of your shots were landing, thanks to how hard the downpour was making it to aim. To make matters worse, they were firing their own shots, and you were just barely managing to dodge them thanks to your exposed position.

“I can’t see anything in this rain!” You ducked as a blaster bolt nearly grazed both your heads. “My shots are useless!”

Hunter, of course, only needed a moment or two before his quick thinking began. “I have an idea.” He paused to go around a tree, and you held on tight to keep yourself from slipping. “We’re gonna switch.”

Your eyes widened as you gave him a once-over. “How?”

Hunter spoke without once looking away from where you were going. “I’m gonna lean left, and you lean right. I’ll maneuver myself behind you, and once we’re both settled, you’ll take the handles from me. Okay?”

You took a deep breath. “Do you trust me to pilot in this downpour?”

Hunter’s response was genuine as he offered you a quick glance. “I trust you with my life, Sunny.”

You smiled as your determination set in. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Hunter nodded. “On the count of three.” He tightened his grip on the handles. “One… two…” Hunter took one more hard turn and then leveled the bike back out. “Three!”

As Hunter lifted himself up and leaned to the left, you leaned right and pushed yourself forward, tucking yourself under his arm. Hunter’s right leg swung off the front of the bike and fell in place behind you, and in just a few seconds, he was seated behind you. You wrapped your hands around the handles to take them from Hunter, and he let go once you were in full control.

“There you go.” Hunter wrapped his left arm around you for stability and drew his blaster with his right. “See? Easy.” He gave you a gentle squeeze before he focused on shooting.

“Yeah, don’t speak too soon.” You smirked to yourself as you banked left and then right, causing Hunter’s grasp on you to tighten.

“Are you trying to throw me off this thing?” Hunter’s tone was laced with amusement as he fired a few blaster bolts.

Your mischievous grin widened. “I thought you said you trusted me.”

“I do.” Hunter paused to focus on aiming for a few moments. “But I still wouldn’t put it past you to make it hard on me.”

“Considering you’re the one who’s responsible for keeping us alive right now,” you gritted your teeth as you swerved around two trees, “these are purely circumstantial challenges.”

“Lucky for you, I can handle it.” No later did you hear Hunter’s blaster go off, followed by the sound of a speederbike crashing. “We’ve only got two left.”

You revved the bike and pushed it forward even faster, causing Hunter to grunt with surprise as he held on tighter. You racked your brain for a new strategy as you artfully dodged each obstacle in your path. “Okay, I’m gonna make a hard left,” you told him. “That should give you a good shot at the pilot on our left.”

Hunter nodded, a movement you could sense as he kept shooting to distract them. You waited until you were headed full-speed at a tree to turn the handles and brake left, causing your bike to be perpendicular to the path of the others. All it took was two shots from Hunter’s blaster to incapacitate the second driver, leaving you with one more left to go.

Hunter’s modulated voice was warm as he spoke. “If I had known you were this good at piloting a bike, I would’ve had you hop on first.”

You chuckled to yourself and tried to ignore the heat that rushed to your face at his praise. “That’s nice of you to say, but we’re not done yet.” You glanced over your shoulder to see the bike gaining speed on you. “Got any ideas?”

Hunter kept shooting, and each new shot proved this pilot wasn’t going down as easy as the others did. “Not really. This one’s tough.” He pressed himself against you when a blaster bolt flew over your shoulders. “We might just have to try to lose them.”

You wove around another tree, and the movement alone gave you a new plan. “I’ve got something.” You flexed your wrists to increase your speed. “Holster your blaster and hold on tight, Sergeant.”

Hunter didn’t hesitate to obey your order. It was only after both his arms were tight around you that he spoke up. “What do you have in mind?”

You tilted your head and focused on the upcoming path. “You’d rather not know.”

Before Hunter could respond, you began to swerve around a massive tree trunk, but you kept your momentum to the left and turned the bike all the way around in a circle. You pressed forward even harder, causing you to charge the other bike head-on as you fired a few blasts from the bike’s guns. It did nothing as the distance between your two bikes began to close.

“Sunny,” Hunter warned, his gloved hands fisting the material of your tunic as you went faster and faster. When you still didn’t stop or turn away, he said your real name in an even more panicked tone.

At the last second, you pulled up hard, causing the bottom of your bike to narrowly miss skimming the other as they flew under you. Your distraction, however, caused them to miss what was standing directly in their path, and their bike flew straight into the tree trunk you had already circled around.

“And that’s three,” you said, smiling to yourself with satisfaction as you began to steer yourselves back towards the Marauder. You gave Hunter a quick glance over your shoulder. “Still think I’m a good pilot?”

There was a pause as Hunter lifted one of his arms from you. He reached up to remove his helmet as he exhaled an affectionate breath. “You’re amazing.” The hand holding his helmet wrapped around you again as the other moved to your thigh, his thumb and his fingers stretching across the expanse of it. “Amazing.”

Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt the warmth of his lips on your rain-soaked neck, and despite the fact you were trying to focus on the winding path ahead of you, you couldn’t help tilting your head to give him more access. His hand running up and down your thigh was no help. “Hunter,” your utterance of his name was more of a pleased sigh than you would’ve liked, “this isn’t helping me to focus.”

He stopped kissing you to speak, but he kept himself close enough for his breath to fan over your skin. “I think you’ve proven you can still work well with distractions.” Hunter gave your skin another kiss before pausing again. “But I’ll stop if you want me to.”

You couldn’t resist him. “Hell no.” You freed a hand from the handles to cover his on your thigh. “By all means, keep challenging me.”

Hunter huffed, the sound melting into your skin in a way that drew an audible breath from you. He took your words as an open invitation to devour you, despite the way the rain was still pouring over him—and now soaking his unprotected head. Heat coursed through you in a way that was much different than the planet’s humidity, and it was only getting more and more impossible to ignore.

So much for working well with distractions.

You weren’t far from the Marauder when you brought the bike to a full stop. Before Hunter could even begin to question it, you had already spun around to grab his face and pull it to yours. Each bead of rainwater on your faces began to melt together in a sweet storm of your own, feelings of strong desire and relief from your leftover adrenaline pulsing through in each matching stroke of your tongues. It wasn’t often that you got to show off for each other, and it certainly wasn’t often that you got to celebrate a victory like this.

You raked a hand through his wet locks, drawing a pleased growl from him that caused him to somehow intensify his beautifully overwhelming actions. He tilted your head back, deepening your kiss in a way that made you cling to him the most you could. It was a breathtaking moment that made everything else fall away, from the raging storm that continued to pour down on you to the squad who was still waiting for you on the ship.

That was the thought that eventually helped you to separate yourself from him, though your teeth gently clung to his lip in your desperation to stay in the moment as long as you possibly could. Your slickened forehead rested against his as you took a few breaths of composure. “I really need to focus on getting us back to the ship, honey.”

Hunter smiled at that. “You’re right. We can’t leave the squad waiting for too long.” He lifted his head from you and helped you to turn back around. “I don’t like it when they start to get suspicious of us.” You chuckled at that, the warmth remaining in your chest as he set his hand on your thigh once again. “Lead the way, love.”

You beamed and prepared to push hard on the handles. “Hold on, Sarge.” You surged forward, and Hunter tightened the arm he had around you to keep himself in place. You laughed as he shook his head, though his own armored chest was rumbling with a hearty sound that you could feel on your back.

It wasn’t much longer before you saw the Marauder exactly where you had left it. You parked the bike, and before you could hop off, Hunter had already done so and extended his hand to you. You smiled and accepted it before the two of you ran towards the open hatch.

“Nice of you two to join us,” Echo quipped from inside the hold. He had a smile on his face that proved Hunter’s earlier words to be true; he was eagerly suspicious of something.

“Took a while for us to lose them.” Hunter’s response was delivered with as much composure as usual, though you didn’t miss the gentle brush of his hand over your back as he passed you on the way to the cockpit. “Tech, get us out of here.”

You were immediately distracted by Omega, who ran up to you with a worried stitch in her brow. “Are you okay, Sunny?” She gave you a quick once-over, no doubt searching for injuries, as she held the blanket over her shoulders even tighter. “How did they see you? It was so hard to see anything in the rain!”

“We’re fine, Omega.” You ran a hand over her wettened hair and smiled. “A creature jumped out and surprised us, and that gave away our position.”

Omega’s eyes widened. “How’d you get away?”

You crossed your arms, suddenly starting to shiver now that the regulated temperature of the Marauder was making your soaked clothes feel colder. “Speederbikes.”

Omega began to look even more impressed as she raised an eyebrow. “You stole one?”

“We did.” It was Hunter who answered for you, having returned from his quick check-in with Tech. His gloved hand had fallen on your shoulder, and as you glanced at him, there was no hiding the concern in his gaze as he looked upon your shivering form. He stepped away to set his helmet down and grab another one of the blankets, which he set over your shoulders for you. You uttered a quiet thanks as he nodded.

“Aww,” Wrecker cooed from where he was sitting in the hold. “Look at your soft side, Sarge!”

“No blanket for me?” Echo added, his grin having widened even more.

Hunter grabbed another blanket and threw it at Echo, causing both him and Wrecker to laugh as he did so. You giggled and shared a look with Omega, who was beaming at you as she rested her side against yours. You sat down with her on the floor of the hold, huddling together for more warmth. Your gaze caught Hunter’s as his lips stretched in a smile that warmed every inch of you in a way that was much more wholesome than your stolen moment.

You would only have those longing glances until you could steal another moment with him, though the rush his admiring eye gave you would never fail to leave you wanting more.

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[tojiscumdumpster]

CHAPTER ONE - TOJI

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✧ summary page

  I usually don’t become swoon by seeing attractive women. Working security at a luxury club, I come across them almost every day. At one point in my life, I even slept with them for money because I needed survival after the Zen’in Family disowned me about twenty years ago.

But when I stare in the direction of the bar, I’m convinced I’m looking at one of the prettiest women I’ve ever seen in my life. 

 She’s fucking gorgeous. The deepest and richest shade of brown. Thick curls falling to her shoulders. Full thighs that are being constricted by the material of her denim mini skirt. 

 God, I don’t fucking care if I sound like a pervert, but every time I saw her cross and uncross her legs, I hoped to see a sneak of her panties. 

 I don’t care to be in a relationship. 

 I just had to fuck her. Hard and slow until she’s screaming my name. 

 Insta lust isn’t really my thing. However, my cock is feeling extremely uncomfortable in my pants right now. 

 “Fushiguro!” Shiu Kong’s voice blares through my ears. 

  Shit, I forgot I wasn’t alone. 

 He continues, “You heard anything I said or you’re too busy drooling over that pretty girl at the bar?” He points with his chin, taking a drag of his third cigarette tonight. 

 That fucker needs to give it a break. 

 “I’m not fucking drooling, Kong,” I answered. “And what did you say?”

  He chuckles. “I asked, are you going to consider that contract I gave you?”

 “No. You know I don’t do that kind of shit anymore. I have a kid.”

 “And how’s your relationship with Megumi going?”

 I hate using the term friend , but Shiu Kong would be the closest thing that I would have of that sort. We met back in Tokyo after I left the Zen’in Family.

 Our friendship consists of business, banter, and talking shit to one another. He’s not a bad guy. Pretty decent and not as annoying as other people. And I guess you can say I kind of owe him since he helped watch Megumi after his mother passed. 

 He’s been in the States for a few days now to visit, trying to convince me to take this damn contract. But he knows I left that part of me back in Japan.

 “It’s going,” I finally responded. “He’s still adjusting to being here.”

 “English working well for him? You’re helping him I assume.” 

 I give him an annoyed look. “Trying to make sure I’m being a dad?”

 “Someone has to,” he says, boringly, while putting out his cigarette to like another one. “Maybe you should get a girlfriend. Make her a housewife. Being a single parent to a fifteen-year-old boy isn’t the easiest.”

 I let out a mixture of a scoff and chuckle. “And how would you fucking know?”

 “Considering that I helped take care of your boy, I would know.”

 “Hm,” I say. 

 “And I’m frankly tired of having to babysit your old ass, too. You’re forty-two, Fushiguro. I can’t be your lover forever.” 

 And here goes the shit talking. 

 “Funny. I don’t remember you having anyone.”

 He smirks. “I have my options.”

 “Yeah, whatever.”

 My attention is back to the woman at the bar, and this time she’s not alone. Some guy occupied the seat next to her, and by the looks of it, she’s annoyed. I’m almost positive that he’s hitting on her. I mean, who wouldn’t? Her beauty steals the attention of the bar. Still, even I know when to read the fucking room. 

 If a woman isn’t interested, then she isn’t interested. You can tell by their body language and how they engage with you. 

 Her body is telling him to fuck off, and she’s doesn’t look like she’s engaging either. And despite that, the fucker can’t keep his hands to himself. 

 You would think the other men seeing what’s happening would be decent enough to fucking defend her but they’re just sitting around with stupid grins on their faces. 

 Kong was talking some type of shit before I got up from the table and walked toward the bar. 

 I had two reasons to go over there. 

 One, to get that motherfucker away from her, and two, my selfish intent to see how pretty she is up close. 

 The closer I got to the bar, their conversation became more coherent. 

 “Come on, sweetheart. Why are you playing hard to get?”

 “You don’t know how to fucking take no for an answer?” 

  Her voice… 

 Get it together, Fushiguro. 

 “I do, but this feels like a game of cat and mouse.” He’s definitely drunk. 

 “If-”

 “She’s not interested,” I interrupted. 

 The moment I uttered those words, it��s like on cue, her and I locked eyes. Her hues are the color of coffee with a touch of milk. I drink them in. The almond shape. The small creases underneath. The length of her lashes. I don’t think I could ever get tired of looking at them. 

 Then, her face. It has this type of softness yet definition. Those full lips that are brown and pink, even prettier up close. 

 No. She’s more than pretty. 

 She’s beautiful. Sexy. Tempting. 

 It’s like I almost forgot what I came here for before this shithead opened his mouth again. 

 “And who the fuck are you?” He’s trying to remain calm. Confident, even. But I’ve been told how intimidating my presence can be for people. It’s clearly affecting him. 

 “The guy that’s fucking telling you she’s not interested and to leave her the fuck alone,” I bit out. “You look desperate.”

 He gets off the stool to buck up to me. 

 Funny. 

 “What happens if I don’t?”

 “I don’t think you want to find out.” Is all I say to him. 

 This guy is about three inches, maybe four inches shorter than me. He’s intoxicated. He is barely confident in the words he’s saying to me. But somehow he thinks he wants to find out if he doesn’t listen to my warning. 

 The other pieces of shit that didn’t say anything listen into our heated conversation. I even feel her eyes still on me. Why am I being overprotective over a woman I don’t know? Like she’s mine? Not sure, but I am. 

 Though, it looks like he made the right decision by walking away, his friends going right along with him. 

 “You okay?” I ask her, after the drunken fuck leaves. 

 “I am. Thank you for defending me.”

 Velvety. Smooth. Soft. Raspy. Mature. All the words that come to mind when I hear her voice. I feel the fucking hair on the back of my neck standing up. I just know she would sound so sweet while taking me. 

  Fushiguro .

 I know. I’m a pervert. Fucking shoot me for being attracted to her. 

 I nod and say nothing else to her, beginning to walk away but she stops me. 

 “What’s your name?” she asks, smiling. 

 “Toji Fushiguro.”

 “Do you usually give out your full name like that, Toji Fushiguro?” 

 Charming, I think. I give her a small smile. 

 “And yours?”

 “Y/N. Just Y/N, for now.”

 I quip a brow. “You say for now, are you suggesting there will be a later?”

 “Hm, it depends. Do you want to sit down and keep me company? Your scary boyfriend demeanor can probably keep away the rest of the creeps.”

 “Scary? Do I scare you?”

 She laughs, and it’s like music to my ears. “No, Toji. You don’t scare me.”

 My name from her lips sounds like pure sin. It drips like honey. I want to taste how it sounds when she’s moaning it. 

 “I wouldn’t mind, but I have a friend-” I look back to the table where Kong and I were at to see that he left. 

 And I’m pretty sure he didn’t cover the fucking bill. 

She shrugs. “I don’t mind your friend joining. As long as he’s not weird, which I’m assuming he’s not since you associate yourself with him. The more, the merrier.” 

 “Looks like he left.”

 “Then it looks like you’re going to keep me company.”

 Now, she’s not asking me. She’s telling me. 

  Shit . 

 I have no reason to protest, so I fill the seat next to her. The bartender comes to me to take my order, but I tell him just a refill on ginger ale and remind him I have a tab open. 

 “You don’t drink?” 

 “Nah, not really. I don’t like the taste of alcohol. It’s not the type of burn that I like,” I tell her. 

 “What kind of burn do you like, Toji Fushiguro?” Is she…

 “You flirting with me, Y/N?”

 She smiles. “Just making conversation. That’s all.”

 “Hm. Well, to answer your question, the workout burn feels good. Help clears my mind.”

 “You have a lot going on in your mind?”

 “I’m a forty-two and a single dad. My mind feels like a Formula One track.”

 She giggles. “I can only imagine. How old is your…”

 “Son, and he’s fifteen. 

 “I don’t have kids, but I teach at a high school. Teenagers are definitely not a walk in the park.”

 “A classroom full of kids sounds like hell.”

 This time her laugh is louder and clearer than before. 

 “I swear it’s not that bad. I used to teach elementary school kids. They are a bit more handful since they’re younger. I was their temporary mom for the day,” she explains. “Teaching isn’t the easiest, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

 “I see you’re very passionate about it.”

 “I am.” Y/N takes a swig of her martini, licking the sugar off her lips that coats them. And like the creep she doesn’t think I am, I stare at that pretty mouth of hers. 

 A visual of Y/N on her knees with her full lips wrapped around my cock plays in my mind. It’s like she knows what I’m thinking because when she looks at me after putting down her drink, she shies away but quickly gathers herself. 

 “So, uhm, what do you do?”  

 “I work at a luxury club. VIP security,” I answer. 

 “Very fitting.”

 “How so?”

 “You ask me if you scare me. I said no, but you give off protective vibes. It’s only right to put a good trait to use to make money, no?”

 I hum, taking a sip of my ginger ale. “I guess you’re right.”

 Over the course of hours, Y/N and I carry conversation. Talking to her feels… nice. Easy, almost. Like the more we talk, the more familiar she becomes. I’m not into that artificial crap, but I feel like I’ve spoken to her before. 

 Like I knew her in another lifetime. 

 Usually, I talk about myself when I’m talking to people, especially women. However, with Y/N? I listen to her. The words she says. Her opinions about insightful topics. She’s breathtaking. Smart. Addicting. 

 My cock isn’t aching only from her looks, but also from the high I feel from her mind. 

 I sound like a sap. I know I do. It’s just… I haven’t felt this way since my wife died seven years ago.

  Maybe you could try again.  

 Absolutely not. My heart and any kind of decency I had left was buried in the grave next to my wife. 

 There’s nothing wrong with a good conversation before an attempted fuck, so that’s all I’m doing. 

 That’s what I’m trying to convince myself, at least. 

 “So, Toji, you from around here?” 

 “Nah. Born in Japan. I’ve only been in the States for three years with my kid.”

 “What about your son’s mother? She didn’t move with you?” She questions. 

 I toy with the black band that I still keep on my finger. “No. She moved somewhere I can’t go, unfortunately.”

 “Where is—Oh…” Before asking her question, she realized what I meant. “I’m so sorry, Toji. I shouldn’t have invaded like that.”

 “Nah, it’s okay. It… was a while ago.”

 “Is that why you said your mind feels like a Formula One track?”

 I manage to let out a hoarse chuckle. “Yeah. Her death affected me and my son badly, but we’re handling it differently.”

 “Not everyone's grieving process is the same,” she reassures. 

 “Right, but does it normally cause your kid to hate you?”

 Why am I saying this? Why am I showing my vulnerability to a woman I just met two hours ago? In the middle of a fucking bar for Christ’s sake. I can’t even blame it on the alcohol because I don’t drink. 

 All I wanted to do was fuck Y/N until she’s screaming my name, but that sole intention went completely out the door the more we talked. 

 My slight insecurity from my vulnerability isn’t even because of Y/N. She doesn’t look bothered or taken off guard from my confession. She just waits for me to talk… like she wants to listen to me. 

 She turns her body around to face me and while doing so, our knees brush. I don’t know if she felt that slight electricity when making contact, but I did. Hopefully she just has a good way of masking her reactions. 

 “Why do you think your son hates you?” 

 I shrug. “We’re just not as close as we used to be. It feels like his mom was the glue that kept us together. Then, when she died, so did my bond with Megumi.”

 A soft smile of pain shows on her face. “Megumi… that means blessings . She picked it?” 

 “I did, because that’s what he feels like.”

 “Hm, I see,” she says, simply. “I’m not a therapist, but I wouldn’t automatically assume Megumi hates you. Like I said, grief is different for everyone. I’m pretty sure it can cause distance between loved ones, too. I would say he’s still adjusting. Just like you are.”

 “Sure you’re not a therapist?”

 She pats my thighs without realizing what that does to me. “Nope, just a high school reading teacher.”

 “Sorry guys. We’re about to close. Mind paying your tab?” The bartender says to us. 

 Were we talking for that long? Guess that happens when conversation is good.

 “Ah okay.” Y/N reaches for purse to pull out her wallet, but mine is already out, giving enough cash to cover both of our bills with a tip. “You didn’t have to do that, Toji.”

 “Maybe I wanted to?”

 She doesn’t bother to argue with me. “Well— thank you.”

 “Let me walk you to your car?”

 “Oh, I don’t drive when I go out. Never know how much you’re going to drink.”

 “Okay, call your ride share and I’ll wait with you.”

 Y/N nods and starts walking towards the exit. I can’t help but take a look at her ass. So fat and naturally shaped. Her legs look so smooth. Thick. I want them to wrap around my waist while I pound into her. 

 And don’t fucking get me started on the top she’s wearing that shows a peak of her belly. I can tell she’s not wearing a bra.

Fuck, Y/N. 

 Why is looking at her making me sexually frustrated?

 Typically, I’m direct about my intentions. If the woman wants to fuck, cool. If not, also cool. But for some reason I can’t open my mouth to ask. My dick presses against my pants and I’m glad I wore black tonight rather than my normal grey sweats. 

 “Looks like my ride is about five minutes away,” she says. “I had a really good time talking to you, Toji. Your company wasn’t bad.”

 “Better than that motherfucker from before?” I ask.

 She rolls her eyes at the thought of him. “Way better. Gosh, that guy was so fucking annoying. He does that every time I come here. I’m hoping since you showed up, he won’t be an issue anymore.”

 “He won’t.”

  She arches her brow. “Why so sure?”

 “I think I made my scary boyfriend message clear,” I joke. 

 “Ha, ha, real funny.” Silence is now between us. We look at each other, and on her face is a soft smile while mine is probably the same. 

 Unlike before, Y/N doesn’t shy away. Instead, she speaks. 

 “Can I be honest?” 

 “Sure.”

 “I want to kiss you, but I’m not sure if it would be appropriate,” she admits. 

 “And why wouldn’t it be?”

 “Well, you vented to me about your late wife, which is perfectly fine. I appreciate you being that comfortable with me. I just don’t want to take advantage of your vulnerability.”

 I chuckle. “You can’t take advantage of me.”

 She places her hands on her hips, shifting her weight onto one leg. “Is that your way of consenting to a kiss?” 

 “Can I be honest, too?” She nods. “I want to do more than just kiss you, but I would be no different from that shithead.”

 “No, you would. The difference is you’re not a creep and I’m consenting to your honesty, which I’m attracted to.” Y/N closes the space between us. Even with heels, she still looks up to me because of my height. “Consent is sexy.”

 “I agree,” I affirmed, cuffing around her chin to tilt higher. The whiff of her sweet alcoholic breath fills my senses, and that alone can make me drunk. 

 Her breath hitches. “Do you?” 

 “I do.”

 “Kiss me, Toji.”

 And I do. I kiss her hard. Aggressively. Passionately that has my blood rushing straight to my groin. Y/N’s lips are so fucking soft, sweet, succulent, every descriptor you can think of while kissing someone as pretty as her. 

 I force her mouth with my own, licking around to explore and get a better taste of her. She whimpers and I utter fuck from how sexy she sounds. That alone can tell me she’s probably needy, proving my point that she would take my cock in her pussy like I’m all she knows. 

 Like I give a fuck about us being in the middle of the street, making out like we’re horny college kids. I want to feel more of her, this fucking body of hers that I know I will have wet dreams about and fist my cock to in the shower when I wake up the next morning.

 “Y/N, can I–” 

 “Stop talking,” she whispers. It’s like Y/N knew what I was going to ask because she cut me off by grabbing my hands to place on her ass so I could squeeze.

 Fuck, it’s so soft and big. It feels jelly and perfect in my hands. While I busy myself with my own, her hands slip through my locks to deepen our kiss. Her full lips overpower mine, sucking and biting on my bottom lip.

 It’s not a want, but I need to fuck her.

 Now. 

 “Let me fu-” And before I was able to ask, the honking of her rideshare interrupted our heated kiss, reminding us we’re not alone.

 We break apart and ogle at each other. Those pretty fucking eyes roars with pure lust and hunger. Her lips are swollen, gloss completely gone from my excessive sucking. 

 My hand is still at her ass while the other feathers along her collarbone and the mountain of her breasts, causing her breaths to shallow. I pull her closer to me so she can feel what she did to me.

 Again, the driver honks the car and I’m two seconds away from breaking his window if he doesn’t fucking wait. 

 “I can come over?” I ask.

 “I want you to, but I can’t. Not tonight,” she declines. “School night. I’m already out later than I planned. Now it’s going to be harder for me to go to sleep after-”

 “This.” I wrap my hand around her throat to give her a quick sensual kiss.

 “Yes,” she breathes, squeezing my arms. “After that.” 

 Y/N hesitantly breaks away from me to head into the backseat of the car. I open the door for her, but before she goes in, I grab her arm to pull back into my chest so I can kiss her–again. 

 She’s just so fucking addicting

 “Toji, I have to go,” she tells me with a smile on her face. 

 “Alright, alright.” I let her go so she can get in the car and roll down the window. “You say not tonight. So when? “Hm, I’ll let you know,” she teases. The driver got sick of our shit, so he slowly started driving away but kept close enough for me to hear Y/N. “Good night, Toji Fushiguro.”

 “Night, Y/N.” And she’s gone, leaving me in front of the bar with a hard dick and pornographic thoughts. 

 Y/N is so fucking sexy, and she’s a good woman. Has a career that she loves. A good listener and honest without coming off as judgemental. Not like it would hurt me if she did, but I didn’t realize how calming it felt to talk to a stranger about my lack of confidence with being a single dad. She’s almost like a ray of… sunshine. 

 Too perfect for me.

 We didn’t even exchange numbers, so the likelihood of me fucking her is slim to none. 

 Oh well. Maybe I was only meant to meet her to hear her reassurance and taste her lips… feel her ass… 

 Shit, my dick is harder than before.

 Jacking off isn’t going to work. Not tonight . 

 I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts to see who can help alleviate my pleasure. 

 Maybe I’ll run into Y/N someday. Hopefully in this lifetime. 

NEXT CHAPTER

[veryberryjelly]

invite

pairing ; poly!wolfstar x reader

summary ; you’re nervous when remus and sirius invite you into their relationship

wc ; 1.1k

There will most definitely be a part two to this

——————-

Adding a third into their relationship was never something remus and sirius had ever considered until they met you. 

You with your sweet laugh and loving nature that neither of them could get enough of. 

Their infatuation with you came increasingly obvious to each other one night after a party. James had gone to crash in lily’s dorm and peter was god knows where, leaving the three of you in the boys dorm lounging around on remus’ bed passing cigarettes between you. 

You were laid between the two of them with your head against remus’ pillow and a sleepy look on your face. It wasn’t long before you fell asleep mid sentence with your head lolling to the side and resting on sirius’ shoulder. 

Without really thinking twice about it, sirius pressed a short kiss onto the top of your head and then rested his own on top of yours, content to just lay there. 

On the other side of you remus rested his head down on your shoulder and looked over at his boyfriend with a soft and content smile on his lips. It was only after that night that they started discussing you. 

it started as one of the more awkward conversations of their relationship, but after they both agreed that they loved you as much as they loved one another it was a simple decision. 

They just had to ask you about it. 

They caught you on your way out of your final class of the day, asking if you fancied going for a walk with them. 

Who were you to say no to a nice warm afternoon walk with two of your best friends ?

It had never bothered you being a third wheel to remus and sirius. They were two of your closest friends even before they got together and there was no reason that had to change after they got together in any of your eyes. 

“ so, how’re you doing? Haven’t seen you in a couple of days “ remus asked as the three of you walked out into the golden glow of a summer afternoon. 

“ i know, i’ve been busy studying for the test i just had so now i’m free as a bird “ 

The last couple of days you had been holed up in your dorm or the library any chance you got, studying for your exam and you were glad you had been on you definitely wouldn’t have been able to do as much of that exam as confidently as you did. 

“ besides, i can always make time for my boys, and you know where to find me “ a smile spread across your lips as you looked between the two boys. There was no way in hell that you could ever say no to seeing remus and sirius. 

If you were studying then they knew when to leave you be and let you get back to your textbooks and it was nice to have friends who werent selfish enough to distract you for hours. 

Hearing you call them ‘ your boys ‘ reminded them why they had asked you out here. They shared a look above your head before either of them decided to speak up. 

They had unintentionally led you towards the practically empty courtyard. 

Sirius was the first one to talk

“ we actually want to talk to you about something, sweetheart… “ 

Your mind immediately filled with the worst.

They don't want to be my friend anymore

They want me to back away and give them some space in their relationship

They were leaving school. 

Remus could see your mind swimming so he took your hand and led you to sit on one of the benches in the courtyard, his hand not leaving yours even after you sat down. “ it’s nothing bad, lovely. We just want to ask you something. “

The both of them sat down on either side of you on the moss covered stone bench. 

You let a soft and slightly shaky breath fall from your lips.  

“ okay, what’s up ?”

They locked eyes over you again as if talking to each other without words. 

“ you know how much we care about you, right? “ 

Remus waited for you to respond before he continued.  

“ yeah, i know. I care about both of you, too “ your voice was a little quieter than usual and that simple factor caused sirius to lift his hand and rest on your forearm. 

“ well, over the last couple of weeks, me and pads both realised that we have more than just friendly feelings for you “

It was like all the air had been sucked from your lungs. Before you could really take stock of your feelings towards what they said, he continued. 

“ and we were wondering how you’d feel about the three of us trying out a relationship...” 

The world had actually stopped spinning. This wasnt something you had ever thought of, dating two people, let alone your two closest friends. 

“ you don’t have to give us an answer straight away, and there is no pressure whatsoever to say yes. If you’re not comfortable we can just forget this ever happened..”

It was like those words from sirius jump started your body and you suddenly felt a little claustrophobic even in the vast open space that was the courtyard. 

Letting go of remus’ hand, you stood from the bench and took a couple of steps away from the two of them to try and actually be able to breathe. 

“ dove, you okay ?” remus questioned, concern laced through his tone. 

It took a few moments before you replied. 

“ yeah, i’m okay..i just- i dont know what to do right now…” 

“ that’s completely okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to do anything, you can just leave and have a think about it if that’s what you want.” 

Sirius’ words seemed to settle you a little. 

“ yeah, okay. I think thats what i need to do… i’m so sorry..”

Without even saying anything they both stood up and made their way towards you, sirius lifting his hand to brush some hair away from your eyes. 

“ don’t apologise. Go and have a think, take as long as you need. We’ll be here when you have an answer, no matter what that answer is “ 

You nodded simply, your eyes switching between the two of them. 

“ thank you..” that was the last thing you said before you left the two of them in the courtyard, your mind going a mile a minute. 

Your best friends both liked you and wanted you to join their relationship. a relationship that had been going on for two and a half years. 

A relationship all of your friends strived to have. 

A relationship a part of you wanted to be a part of. 

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @thefreakandthehair! With thirty-nine works in the Steve/Eddie and Stranger Things tags on Archive of our Own!

In an underdogfics first, we have TWO nominators!

Our first nominator recommends the following works by @thefreakandthehair:

this is my month, I can feel it. october, baby!

never been afraid of any deviation.

scar-crossed lovers.

the answers are all inside of this.

Our second nominator, @sidekick-hero, recommends the following works by @thefreakandthehair:

over the hills and far away

meeting you was coming home.

make no plans and none can be broken.

rounding third, sliding home.

what's mine is yours (to leave or take)

Lex's brain is full of very creative scenarios, reading her writing is like reading an anthology of short stories but it's with all of your favorite characters! You get to see what they'd do in this AU or that AU, I love the exploration. It's like she's made a stew and it's simmering on the stove and you realize you're so hungry for stew as soon as you see it. <3 -- anonymous

Lex writes characters that come to life on the page while you're reading her stories. It makes it so easy to get invested in them, to feel with them and root for them to get their happy ending. She's one of these authors I would follow anywhere, any trope, any setting and universe, I am here for it. So I think more people should get to find her stories and be treated to the magic. -- @sidekick-hero

Below the cut, @thefreakandthehair answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

How can I possibly give just one reason! These two burrowed themselves into my brain like little gerbils with no hope of ever getting them out. I mean, was I supposed to hear ‘dontcha big boy?’ and be normal about it? But in all seriousness, they’re two sides of the same coin and those oppositions in character are super fun to play with!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

It was tough to choose, but friends to lovers keeps coming up!

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

If I have to choose a particular trope, hurt/comfort would be the closest fit, but in the sense of healing past hurts together as a unit.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This question sent me into an existential crisis and the best I could do is narrow it down to three, and even that was nearly impossible. In no particular order: We’ll Know For The First Time by KikiZ; carve your name into my chest by hexiewrites; and more recently, Among the Wildflowers by ParadimeShifts.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Rivals to Lovers in my football AU! I’ve been so excited to get moving on that one.

What is your writing process like?

Oh, I wish I had a better one. I start with a skeleton outline, pop on some music, and then pick and choose which part of the outline sparks joy in that moment. I rarely, if ever, write chronologically so I just write what feels good in the moment and then go back with a scalpel to create connective tissue.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Definitely writing out of order, I think! And if there’s one thing about me, it’s that someone is gonna have an introspective moment looking up at the stars. Someone told me it’s like my calling card and they’re not wrong.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

I like a bit of both. I like to post on a schedule for multi-chapter fics but only after it’s either completely done or mostly done so that there’s no pressure to it.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Over The Hills And Far Away incorporated some personal bits of my past that were equal parts cathartic and difficult to write at times, so I’d have to say that one! It’s really satisfying to take experiences that you regret or that didn’t end the way you’d hoped and give them a different ending in fiction.

How did you get the idea for never been afraid of any deviation?

The Eddie Month prompt for that day! Me and my co-mod for the event, nostalgicbones, included Bad Reputation by Joan Jett as a prompt and as I was listening to it, it got me thinking about how Eddie is someone who cares for those in less than ideal situations— maybe even to the point of weaponizing his own bad reputation to protect someone. In this case, that was Steve!

When writing the answers are all inside of this, what was something you didn’t expect?

I didn’t expect it to become multiple chapters! That one is part of my So Much For Stardust series (that I haven’t forgotten about, I’ve just been busy with big bangs) so it was based on The Pink Seashell interlude from the album. I still don’t know exactly how a 1-minute interlude turned into a 15k multi-chapter fic, but it was super fun to let go off the rails!

What inspired scar-crossed lovers?

Also a So Much For Stardust series fic, the first one in the series, actually. I heard Heaven, Iowa for the first time and wrote this based on that song in a day. My brain just kept rotating it around like a rotisserie chicken until I wrote it.

What was your favorite part to write from scar-crossed lovers?

This is ironic because I’m not an angst-writer by nature, but writing about the slow deterioration of Eddie’s van as a symbol for the passage of time was really fun to do. Bittersweet, but it was one of those things that I didn’t realize I was doing until I was in the middle of it and once I realized, I just carried it throughout!

How do/did you feel writing never been afraid of any deviation.?

Excited! It was the first time that I wrote pre-s4 steddie (which is wild that in two years, I just wrote that for the first time last fall?) and it was so fun to do!

What was the most difficult part of writing the answers are all inside of this.?

Probably balancing the kids’ voices in the first chapter while still creating tension between Steve and Eddie.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

It isn’t one of the fics listed here, but in no better version I could pretend to be tonight, I loved writing the line “Something about Steve feels like home, and Eddie is only familiar with houses.” Hurt/comfort, my beloved.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’m planning on taking a break from big bangs for a bit to focus on some super neglected WIPs, so there are a few upcoming fics I’m excited about! My Football AU, an ASMR Artist!Eddie x Insomniac!Steve AU, and I’m working on a fic called Pickup Note with sidekick-hero and firefly-party that I cannot wait to dive into fully.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Just thank you so much for all that you do with this blog! The ship truly exploded overnight and there are so many incredible stories that I’ve completely missed just because they’ve fallen through the cracks. I really appreciate what you’re doing here and the undertaking that it’s been!

Thank you to our author, @thefreakandthehair, and our nominators, anonymous and @sidekick-hero! See more of @thefreakandthehair works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[mult1f1cs]

After Hours

Pairings: Severus Snape and Fem!Student Reader Warnings: Smut, Squriting, Adult langauge, Teacher/Student Relationship, Sex in a public place, Unprotected sex, Creampie Word count: 1284

(Your p.o.v)

I walked into the defense against the dark arts classroom after all of the classes of the day. It’s close to the start of dinner time and I know if Filch catches me outside of the dining hall at this time I’ll get in trouble, but I don’t care I have to see Severus and I know he would take the blame for me not being at dinner. Me and Severus have been dating since the beginning of this year. I turned 18 a week after school began and he asked me out. I immediately said yes because I’ve been crushing on him since my third year and I had been openly flirting with him since my gift year. Now in my seventh year and being able to have him and being on track to become a Hogwarts professor when I graduate I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. As I’m looking around the room for Severus the door shuts behind and I turn around smiling. My smile widened when I saw him leaning against the door and I put my bag down on the closest table and walked over to him. He wrapped his arms around me and I looked up at him. He leaned down and kissed me gently and I smiled into the kiss and put my hands on his chest. His hands moved from my waist to the curve of my ass while we kissed. We pulled away from the kiss when breathing became a problem and he said, “God I’ve missed you.” I smiled and giggled a little and said, “You just saw me a few hours ago in class Sev.” He squeezed my ass a little and said, “That is different baby I couldn’t kiss you or touch you then.” I bite my lip, “Well now you can touch me as much as you want.” He leaned down to kiss me neck before he moved up to my ear and whispered, “Jump baby.” I jumped up wrapping my wrapping my legs around his waist as his ands stayed on my ass. 

He walks over to the closest desk and sets me down on it. He started to kiss my neck as his hands worked on unbuttoning my shirt. I moaned quietly as he bit down harshly on my neck definitely leaving a mark. I feel him smirk against my neck before he pulls back and pushes my shirt off my shoulders I had stopped by the bathroom on the way here to take my bra off so now I am completely topless in front of him. He rubbed my breasts with his hands as he said, “Have you not been wearing a bra all day?” I shook my head and giggled a little, “No Sev I stopped by the bathroom and took it off before I got here. It’s in my bag.” He nods and squeezes my breasts again then he slides one hand under my skirt. I kept my panties on because I know how much he likes taking them off and the smirk he always has on his face when he puts them in his pocket to keep always gives my pussy butterflies. His fingertips brushed over my clit through my panties making me moan quietly as I said, “Sev please I can’t handle the teasing.” He smiled and slowly pulled my panties off sliding them into his pocket as he said, “Those are mine now.” I giggled and said, “You know if you keep taking my panties everytime we fuck I’m not going to have any panties left.” He smirked and wrapped his hand around my throat, “Good baby.” I smiled and he kissed me passionately as he undid his pants. He pulled back from the kiss and I bit my lip as he strokes his cock a little and says, “You ready princess?” I nod biting my lip, “Yes baby.” I moaned loudly when he slammed his cock into me moving in and out slowly. I bit my lip ad looked up at him with doe eyes, “Daddy please go faster.” This isn’t the first time I’ve called him daddy while we have sex and it certainly won’t be the last time. His reaction was always the same he would always freeze for a few seconds then do whatever I asked. He started to speed up and I moaned loudly. His hands gripped my hips tight as he continued to pound into me quickly making me bite my lip. 

He pulled his wand out of the pocket of his cloak and placed it against my clit. He casts a silent charm that makes the wand vibrate against my clit. This is a charm he’s used before,but each time he uses it, it just gets better and better. He casts a sticking charm so even when he moved his hand it would stay in place. He moved both of his hands back to my hips as he pounded into me harder. I moan loudly then quickly covered my mouth with my hand because neither of us had been smart enough to cast a silencing charm over the room. His thrusts sped up and so did the intensity of the vibrations. I arched my back off the desk closing my eyes as he started to kiss my neck. I moved my hand away from my mouth and whispered, “Daddy I’m so close.” He smirked and whispered in my ear, “Cum for daddy princess.” I moaned loudly as the vibrations on my clit increased as soon as he said those words. My back arched higher off the desk as I clenched tightly around his cock squirting as I came hard. I relaxed back against the desk as he continued to pound me, The sounds of my wet pusy being pounded and my cum dripping from the desk onto the floor are the only sounds filling the room. I can tell he is getting close so I wrap my legs around his waist making it impossible for him to pull out. I know he wouldn’t pull out anyways because he has a breeding kink, but I know it turns him on more when I signal to him that I don’t want him to pull out. He groaned and his movements falter as I feel his cum paint my inner walls. He slowly stops his thrusts and looks a me smiling. I smile back as he pull a plug og of his cloak pocket. He quickly pulled his cock out of me replacing it ith the plug to keep all of his cum inside me. 

I smiled at him as he removes his wand from my clit. I slowly sat up and kissed him gently. We kissed until air became a problem then we slowly pulled away. I smiled and said, “As much as I love you and would love to stay here forever with you I am hungry and want to get to the dining hall before dinner ends.” He nods and snapped his fingers and and out clothes were fixed. I noticed I was wearing all my clothes except for my panties. I giggled a little and said, “I’m gonna need those panties back Sev.” He pouted a little and I grabbed his hand, “Don’t pout my prince you have six other pairs of my panties so I need those ones.” He nodded and pulled them out of his pocket handing them to me. I put them on and smiled as we walked out of the classroom together. We stood a good distance away from each other so that to anyone walking past it would just look like we were walking from detention.  

[sentientgolfball]

DUDE WHAT THE FUCK (re: phantom/aether ficlet) YOU CANT JUST THROW A BUNCH OF MY FAVE KINKS INTO ONE FICLET THEN SAY THIS

AND END IT THERE OH MY GOD ELABORATE??? PLEAS MAKE PART TWO AND ELABORATE IM LITERALLY BEGGING YOU ON MY KNEES RN

mwehehehehehee

That's it that's all I have to saw about that

Tags: mean Aeth, irresponsible use of quintessence, knot mention

Aether shoved his knot passed their lips, gripping the back of their head while he came down their throat. Phantom would’ve came when the taste hit his tongue, but Aeth made sure that was impossible. He dick was so hard and he’s sure he would’ve came at least three times by now if it wasn’t for the amount of quint Aether was pouring into him. His scars hadn’t stopped glowing for the last ten minutes. 

“Once this goes down we’re gonna see if you can take my whole hand, how does that sound love bug?” 

Phantom projected his affirmation into Aether’s mind. The older quint smiled, petting at his cheek to feel his knot inside. Phantom would have to thank Cirrus and Cumulus later for teaching him the tricks. 

When his knot finally deflates, Aether pulls out of his mouth and gives him a moment to breathe. There’s still not a single part of his body Phantom can move except for his eyes. He feels floaty, like he’s watching everything Aether is doing to his body through a window. He can’t even moan when Aeth flips him over and prodes a finger into his ass, vocal chords completely paralyzed. Aether gets the idea though, the connection between their quintessence making every thought and feeling as clear as day. 

When Aether slides a second finger in Phantom’s dick twitches. He wishes more than anything Aether would let him cum. They’ve been at this for what feels like hours now. But Aether’s not done yet. And if Aether isn’t done then Phantom isn’t done. 

“You’ve been so good for me. Taking everything I’ve given you” Aether curls his fingers. 

Phantom’s eyes flutter and he instinctively tries to buck back against him, but his hips don’t even twitch. 

“It’s amazing what the body can do with a little bit of help isn’t it? I could teach you so much” Aether slides his fingers out of his ass only to shove a third one in. 

Phantom practically begs over their connection. What for he has no idea anymore. His whole world right now is Aether. He can feel him in every crevice in his mind, can feel his touch lighting up every nerve in his body. He thinks he’d like that, knowing the tricks Aether does. Phantom knows the pack sure as hell would love it. The idea of Rain or Dew or Mountain begging him to fuck them like this sends a wave of pleasure through him. Aether laughs low when he feels it shudder through him. 

“Yea love bug is that what you want? Maybe some other night. This one’s for me.” 

Aether slips a fourth finger into them and they swear they can feel a dribble of pre leak from their cock through Aether’s control. Though when the feeling only grows he knows exactly what it is. It’s Aether’s cum trickling out of his ass, sliding down his dick and coating his thighs. 

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll fill you again when I’m finished with this.”

Ever so slowly Aether works his fifth finger into Phantom, giving a satisfied hiss when he finally gets his whole hand inside of him. He doesn’t move, giving Phantom a moment to recuperate as he focuses his quintessence on the straining muscles. He urges him to relax and Phantom is helpless to it. It doesn’t help that everything Aether feels is being echoed back through him. He wants it just as desperately as him, maybe even more given the suggestion he projects across the bond. 

“You sure you want me to do that love bug?” Aether asks, but they both know he’s already made up his mind. 

Phantom blinks at him. It’s the closest thing to a nod he can physically do. 

Aether laughs “You’re worse than Mountain.” 

He slowly uncurls one of his fingers, quickly followed by the second. He carefully scissors his fingers inside of him. He grunts when he hears Phantom whine in his mind, cock kicking in his lap and spitting a thick glob of pre. He takes his time uncurling the rest of his fingers, savoring every little noise that rattles in his head. He flexes his all five fingers and Phantom swears he saw the Hells again for a moment. Aether stays like that for a minute or an hour, Phantom’s brain too full of honey to notice anything until he feels the pressure of him carefully slipping his fist out of him. 

“Oh Hells Phantom, love bug, look at you you’re fucking gaping” Aether traces his rim with a feather light touch. 

“You’re going to be ruined for anyone else. Fuck I don’t even think my knot will catch” he pauses and hums thoughtfully “I guess there’s only one way to find out though.”

[viserya-firstofhername]

Listen, I thought I would survive this season lurking on the sidelines, but I can’t. Jace broke my heart tonight after surpassing any and every character GRRM ever created in my brain and heart since reading Fire and Blood, and I need to talk about 2x07.

Strong words, yes, damn ugly, when Jace is calling people ‘mongrels’ (no we ain’t letting it slip, no, but the rest of men are sometimes getting away with whores, mothers-of-bastards, are we good with these now cause its common speech or smth). Imagine that tho, classist Jacaerys going through calling himself things in his head every day of his life while looking at his beautiful visibly not-silver curls getting in his eyes. Just imagine for a second. So distinct.

It’s bubbling in him for years. And his entire family - his mother, his father, his other father, his third father (the epitome of Targaryen legacy if there ever was one), his grandfathers, every person that his young heart wants to trust - refusing to talk to him about it. While every ‘family’ member deemed unsafe - read - Aegon, Aemond, Alicent (even fucking Cole) is out there ready to discuss the obvious with anyone at any given time, including Jace himself. Why does his mother play pretend for 16 years not once speaking to him about it? How often does he ask himself? Alicent has dark hair, why does Aegon look like a true Targaryen? How often does Jace lose sleep over this thought.

I have news for you babes. He got his first perception of what ‘mongrel’ is from the mirror. If you need him to spell it out, you haven’t been paying attention.

I’ve slowly shifted to preferring his show characterization to the one in the book (he is my favourite Targ in asoiaf books and shows verses, and I know I know book!Jace had the whole little pet project with the Dragonseeds and he had two dozen powerpoint presentations and a huge spreadsheet document about it, and a separate spreadsheet he made just to calculate and weigh in benefits and negatives of offering such power to bastards. Yet. YET). He sees what neither Viserys nor Rhaenyra allowed themselves to see, blinded by their entitlement, classism and feeling of supremacy. Jacaerys, mind you, everyone that is calling him a bastardphobe and whatnot, realizes that if anyone—anyone—I repeat—ANYONE—outside direct family is to claim a dragon, in 25 years he himself will be in the exact same situation as his mother. Vermithor or Silverwing alone are no lesser treats than Vhagar, and as his mother like to remind him, Vermax is young. If a man (pay attention) claims any of the two, Jace’s inheritance will be out the window, no matter how many silver-haired babies he has with his cousin-step-sister, Rhaenyra's intentions would die with her last breath.

So what is he to do? Is he to lay abed, eat cake and dangle his feet, waiting for the inevitable to come? No. He is to do exactly what he has been doing since he was 8 (younger even!) – learn High Valyrian, train with the sword, be impeccable in dragonriding, in diplomacy, in manners, while nourishing the relationships with all his younger siblings, preparing them to be his closest allies (half of which we have never seen Rhaenyra display, except the proficiency in the only two skills that are explicitly Targaryen, nigh a feeble attempt at diplomacy once when she tried to betroth Jace to Helaena, and after her ex now stepmom turned her down she fled to the nearby island). Not to mention he was doing fine managing amiable connection with Aegon and to some extent Aemond before the grown-ups and their big fucking heads laid the seeds (ha!) for the feud to continue in their generation.

Read the above paragraph again. He does it all, for years, as well as he can, while also taking care of and shielding his brothers. And so far, instead of acknowledging his accomplishments we’ve only seen Rhaenyra respond with slack filler statements like “No worries Jacey, precious, it’s far in the future, don’t push yourself too hard” (listen, I know we can’t be certain just because it wasn’t on-screen, and she definitely did good raising her kids, but I’m getting the vibe she isn’t one for words of affirmation, she ain’t really good at that iykwim, and it’s his language), and Jacaerys bows his head, says ‘Yes, Mother’ and then proceeds to pressure himself beyond his limits (and Luke as well – as we saw in 1x10 – because he realizes how delusional and naïve the ‘no pressure’ statement is.)

Gods oh gods, and imagine, this is just one layer, but he is also a young man, and a young man’s ego.. Well. I feel like I should also quote bby boi Jon Snow, and his reasoning on why he won’t lay with women (ironic how that turned out).

Now layer all the above with the following. He is born with black hair. Luke too. Joff too. Obviously Jace as the oldest will take care of them and shield them. But then, but then, the moment she gets the opportunity, Rhaenyra marries Daemon. And of course. Names her first silver-haired son Aegon. (her channelling her father here SO much i can't even). Do I need to start a counter of the fucking number of daggers in Jace’s heart by now?

One more Rhaenyra says. One more dagger should be fine, he is her bestest most perfect boy, nothing can hurt him. Nothing can hurt him, so she leaves him to deal with the Small Council on his own repeatedly. Nothing can hurt him so she conspires with a rando and refuses to keep him in the loop. Nothing can hurt him, so she flies out alone and comes back with her shiny new dragonrider and doesn’t even acknowledge Jace, he has to go reach out to her first. (good gods, imagine if Addam had silver hair).

He can take one more, the most perfect boy, Rhaenyra says. (I wrote this one before Emma D’arcy’s new interview where they directly confirm Rhaenyra felt justified to choose herself over Jacaerys).

Let me dive you for a second in Jace’s POV for this one (in the magical method of David Lightbringer): Imagine you are the first born child. You have studied and build yourself to be deserving of being your Mother’s son, but you never quite get proficient enough to change your physical features. Then. Your grandsire dies, your uncle steals everything from your Mother, and your first proposal on any counteraction gets your little brother killed.

You blame yourself, you feel tremendous guilt - how did this happen - you were always the perfect son (you don’t even acknowledge the small victories you win for your Mother, you were always good at these skills you honed pedantically for years, it is not an achievement). You do not let yourself grieve, instead you have to make it up for the loss you caused.

But your Mother continuously keeps you in a cage allegedly for your own wellbeing, which brings its own amount of frustration at the age of 16. But you sneak out and win another small victory – the only price you need to pay is your late father’s rightful inheritance. You get recognition for a second, but then Mother complains that her ails for being caged are greater than your ails for being caged, and you as a good son try to figure a way out for both of you.

So, after keeping you in this cage for safety, which you are not asking for - on the opposite - your idea gets transmuted by some rando into a plan that will take away the last pillar of legitimacy you see in yourself. Imagine now, not only have you been stripped of it, but Mother scolds you for complaining.

And you finally break – no mother, if you do this I am exactly the mongrel I was told I was all my life, I called myself – but it comes out jagged and aggressive and immature, and you become a little entitled primadonna. But either way you ask, beg, plead for one thing, just this one thing – truly for yourself – you must deserve that much, one need for your very being to remain whole and for yourself to be able to keep your feet on the ground and mind whole. That one thing, that one time, you ask her to pick you over herself. And Mother choses herself.

In Jacaerys’ mind this last decision of hers invalidates all her arguments of keeping him safe, because ultimately, he realizes she is keeping him safe to satisfy her own needs, without realizing 1) what damage she is doing to him as a human being, and most importantly 2) she is preserving himself only while she lives – she ultimately does not care what will happen to him once she is no longer alive.

It is very rude way to put it, but it is a very human and very real thing real parents do sometimes, especially when their (eldest) kids are severely parentified. And Rhaenyra, bless her, not putting the blame on her entirely, is in an impossible situation too, but is also immature more often than not. It’s in the genes. And has been lonely and abandoned often, and believes if there is one man that will never abandon her, it’s her bestest boi Jace. And no one told her a firstborn son is not supposed to fill the role of a partner. I am however very saddened to see she did not learn a single lesson from her interactions with Viserys – especially that she seems incapable of realizing she’s shutting out Jacaerys brutally, just as her father did with her. For 20 damn years, she has been subjected to abandonment and being left all alone (by all the men in her life), and she can’t realize she’s doing the same to Jace, while also keeping him on a leash, caged with her, unable to seek refuge anywhere.

Truly heartbreaking.

I think that ought to be enough layers to cover the strong classist word for y’all. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

(I feel a quick exclaimer is needed. As a viewer I find that development extremely juicy, it fed me well and I am relishing and relating to both, not criticizing. But Jace is also my best boi, so there you go.)

[nburkhardt]

I’ve been sick the last few days, haven’t written anything out for any of my wips. It’s making me upset but I do have some things written out. Here’s what was originally supposed to be the start of my tattooed Steve fic. (There’s also parts that I clearly took and rearranged, like the lyrics tattoo isn’t the same)

It’s a broken crown that starts it.

Or more accurately, the idea of a fallen king. Of letting go of the idea of being higher than everyone else, letting go of popularity.

Once he’s all cleared from a doctor to drive again, he drives aimlessly away from Hawkins. Finds himself in Indianapolis with a nearly empty gas tank, he spots it when getting more gas and he doesn’t know what the pull toward it is but he follows it.

The people in the shop look at him with curiosity and he feels out of place. His polo shirt with light wash jeans makes him stand out. The one at the front desk looks ready to laugh, “I think you’re in the wrong place, buddy. The Gap is down the street”

“I, uh. Actually, wanted to get one. Something like that?” He points to a drawing of a crown that’s broken in half, “like right- uh right here?” Moving his hand to touch his chest. It seems like the best area for it, able to hide it pretty well.

The person just stares at him dumbfounded but nodded, yelling out for a Dave to come here.

The moment the needle meets his skin for the first time, seeing the black ink appear, it’s the beginning of something he didn’t realize he’d enjoy.

He keeps it a secret. Going out to the tattoo parlor on long weekends, Dave getting him to open up just a bit. He’s the only one to tattoo him, he’s one of his closest friends at this point. Everyone in the parlor knows him as well but Dave knows backstories on his tattoos now. Knows about being King Steve and how he got into high school bullshit, doesn’t know about the upside down stuff but knows Steve has trauma.

His second tattoo is a sunflower, it’s his favorite. It’s on his ribcage, with a few petals falling towards his hips. It’s splashed in yellows and greens, it’s the only tattoo with color. The color wasn’t supposed to happen but Dave thought it would suit him.

His third one ended up being lyrics, he heard Mad World by Tears for Fears and it wouldn’t leave his head for days. “i find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad, the dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.” Goes through his sunflower tattoo and ends just below his hip.

The four one wasn’t supposed to happen, but he accidentally mentioned the nail bat in front of the guys in the parlor, they all said it would be a sick tattoo. Now he has that on his back, on his shoulder blade.

He had planned another one, missed his friends at the parlor. But the torture from the Russians scared him, even with Dave being his friend, he freaked at the needles. He hated it, wanted to get that ice cream scooper for his new friendship with Robin. Not that he’d show her anytime soon, doesn’t how how to explain how he managed to get his tattoos and kept them hidden.

I was looking over the stuff I already had written out to get motivated again, that’s also why I’m posting this lol.

Tattooed Steve is one of my favorite things. Not even like Punk!Steve either, just Steve with tattoos lol.

[hockeyandhrsepwr]

Abu Dhabi moments

Jack Hughes x Ferrari driver reader

Je T’aime Masterlist

** Vegas is the last race before Abu Dhabi & series takes place in 2024 with Danny, Seb & Mick still on the grid **

A handful of moments as the season come to an end because I didn’t want to write a full fic. Also how are y’all? I’ve haven’t been on here in a while because ya girl had finals and grad 🫶

Post Practice, Friday

Welcome back to sunny Abu Dhabi, as we prepare for the final race of the season!! This weekend brings us the most heated battle for the Drivers Championship we’ve ever seen!! Yes that includes Lewis versus Max 2021, the Mercedes battle of 2016 & Sebastian Vettels maiden win in 2010. Ferrari have the Consrtuctors trophy, will they clinch the Drivers too? Lets have a look at the possibilities

Y/n L/n currently sits first in the points, with Max trailing by only one. Charles Leclerc only sits only 5 points behind him. It will come down to whoever takes the win for this race. Three potential champions, one race. Will it be a third championship for Verstappen, a second for Leclerc or a first for L/n?

Are you excited? Because we sure are. They all had great practices today. Who will come out on top? Tune in all weekend to see what happens!

Lets send it over to Naomi, who’s with y/n now

Media Pen

Hi y/n, how are we feeling today?

I’m doing great, how about you?

You know, I’m pretty good but were not here to talk about me. What’re you feeling coming into this weekend, knowing that the championship could be yours?

Honestly, I’m trying not to think about that. It’s just a normal race. I dont want to psych myself out since anything can happen once we get on that track. Of course I’d love to win, but who knows. Charles & I have been able to bring that constrictors back to Ferrari which was incredible, and whoever wins will have absolutely deserved it.

Thats a great way to look at it! I’m rooting for you but we’ll see what happens. Now, onto something more important. You had an interesting weekend in Las Vegas, didn’t you?

Yeah, you know the race was a lot of fun and it was great to win, especially given the issues we had the week before

Girl you know thats not what I’m talking about!!! I mean your after race shenanigans
Haha, yeah, so I got married which was a special experience.

Can I ask if you’d planned that going into the weekend?

Oh not at all! It was more a timing thing. So Saturday night Jack, my husband which is still weird to say, asked if I’d want to get married while we were there. He played a game in Vegas which is why he was there at all. Of course I wanted to marry him, but I didnt want to do it without some of our closest friends there. Luckily, most of them who play hockey were either in Vegas because they’re on his team or they were within a 2 hour flight range so we could get them there for Sunday night. And of course I was able to get the guys from the grid there no problem. So we just decided to go for it!

So no parents?

No, unfortunately not. Both of our parents live on the east coast and it was too quick to get them there, but we’re going to do a big party over the summer so they can celebrate with us.

At least they’ll have that!! Can I ask what the planning was like?

Jack took on all of the decisions which was really great of him since I had the race that evening, but Sunday morning we texted everyone with flight info & told them to get there asap. Then my best friend Thomas went & picked a dress for me, since Jack wasn’t allowed. I sent a message to our groupchat after the race with the chapel address once jack found somewhere & told the drivers to be there and look decent. It was a really great night though & I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

Well congratulations!! Is he here this weekend?

Unfortunately not, hockey season is well underway, but I’m on the first flight to New York that I can get & we’ll have the winter break together.

Well, all the best to you and your new husband, and we’ll talk to you later this weekend I’m sure. Good Luck tomorrow!!

Thanks Naomi!

RACE DAY

Commentators

Oh my god, we’ve come down to the final lap to decide the championship. Who’s going to cross the line first?? Right now L/n is leading, but Verstappen is right behind her. Will he be able to get past?? The other Ferrari of Leclerc is a fraction of a second behind Verstappen.

There goes Leclerc!!! He’s trying to pass Verstappen, my word! OHHH he does it!! Charles Leclerc puts his Ferrari between the Ferrari of L/n and the red bull of Verstappen

Radio: “Tell y/n I’ve got verstappen, go & win it!!”

That was Leclerc, it looks like he’s going to defend against Verstappen so L/n can win. We have half a lap, can he hold off the Red Bull? Fantastic driving by Leclerc, and what a teammate!!

Here it it!!! Rounding the final corner in that iconic red car, its L/n!! The chequered flag is waving, SHES DONE IT!!!!

Radio: C’est toi y/n!!! Tu es la championne du monde!!!!!

In her 4th season in Formula one, your 2023 World Champion Y/n L/n everyone!! What a finish from the young driver. History is made here tonight as she becomes the first female driver ever to win the championship!! She’s also the second youngest driver to take it after former ferrari teammate Sebastian Vettel.

What a race, what a finish as Leclerc crosses in second, less than half a second behind.

You

Over the radio you hear the team celebrating but you have no words. It doesn’t feel real. There’s tears streaming down your face. All the shit you put up with, all the years of hard work, missing your friends and family, it’s all lead up to this.

“Y/n?” You can hear your engineer ask since you haven’t responded, but nothing comes out. Driving towards the end, you do your donuts and pull in to your designated spot. You just sit there for a second before “HOLY FUCK” and someone on the other end laughs.

You’re still crying but its all happy tears as you pull yourself up & step onto the front of the car. You sit down on the Halo & put your head in your hands, trying to collect yourself as the crowd goes mad around you. Pulling off your helmet you look over to your team at the barriers & smile. You want to run over & celebrate with them, but you can’t bring yourself to move, afraid its all a dream. Then you get tackled. You’ve completely missed the other guys pulling up, too in your own head and you jump when Charles grabs you and pulls you off your car. He pulls you into a hug & whispers congratulations in your ear before someone else grabs you & you see Mick.

“You fucking did it!” He yells and you laugh. It was the kick in the ass you needed and you release Mick to go over to your team, hugging your engineer first. After that it’s a blur, until someone passes you a phone.

“McQueen!!!” Thomas is on the one end of the FaceTime, jack also popping up on the screen. You laugh at the nickname, glad to see their faces.

“I’m so proud of you!” Jack says “Me too!!” Thomas yells, wanting to be part of the conversation. “Thanks Thom!” “I love you so much babe! I can’t really hear you so I’ll call you later?” “Go celebrate, I’ll see you soon. Je t’aime mon amour” You blow a kiss before handing back the phone. There’s one more person you need to see. You spot Susie and you rush over to her. She’s been a mentor and inspiration to you since you were a kid and without her who knows where you’d be right now.

The rest of the day passes in a blur. You’re pulled into interview after interview, congratulations coming from all around and your phone buzzing like its possessed. You call your parents & Jack but thats it, grateful for all the love but too overwhelmed to deal with responding to all your messages. That night you and the boys go full send. You know its a good night since you can’t remember anything. Monday is filled with media, and then you hop on a flight straight to Newark.

Fourteen hours later, Jack & Luke are waiting from you when you finally make it through customs.

You’d think you’re racing or an Olympic gold to win the 100m with how fast you fly over to Jack & jump into his arms, tears streaming down your face as you hug him like a koala.

“Tu l’as fait” he whispers in your ear as you squeeze each other, your face buried in his neck. You can hear the emotion in his voice

“Je l’ai fais”

“Ma championne”

“Je t’aime tellment”

“Mon champion” you say back, smiling at the fact that both of you won this year

“Cough cough, Hi, hello, where’s my hug?” Luke says from somewhere behind you, causing you to giggle and pull your head up to look at him

“I’ll get to you in a sec”

Jack puts you down & you give Luke his hug. “Congrats y/n/n. You deserved it”

“ Thanks Moose. Now we match with our trophies.”

“We do!!” He passes you the big bouquet of flowers he’s holding, “from mom & dad”

“I love them. Let’s go home boys”

[saphirered]

Caged Birds Don't Sing

And here's the third and final part of this request! You can find part two here. I hope you have all enjoyed this little angsty piece as much as I have. Happy reading my darlings! 😘

You walk among the gore and decay, stepping over those who have left this world and the horrors that tore them away. You hear the wails be they cries of pain, of grief or relieve. You’re covered in grime, head to toe. The silk and gossamer had been exchanged for steel and leather but the burden is equally heavy. You just wander. No purpose. No direction. You hear the faintest echo pierce through your hazy mind. The world is numb. You are numb and waiting for it all to come crashing down, for the realisation to hit you viciously. You’re free. You’re free of her, free of it all. You were a fool to think it’d magically all be better. All those sacrifices you made, they were a blood price for this. The goal was reached but the price steep. You find your gaze connecting to the eyes of one who paid the price for your silence. The White Wolf of Doranelle steps up to you. You can see his lips moving. He speaks your name but his words are a distant echo. He grabs onto your arm and gently shakes you. 

Fenrys saw you walking among the corpses and chaos. You looked like an angel of death among them; reaping the souls of the fallen and walking them to the afterlife. Once upon a time he might have jested you looked horrible, that the battlefield did not suit you and you should return to your life of finery, that blood tarnishes even the prettiest diamonds. You might have clapped back but he knows now you won’t. You’re too far out of it. You don’t even respond when he calls your name. He realises why when he shakes you, when he sees that hand you had clasped over your abdomen move, and sees that blood and gore is not your enemy’s. You’re ashen, and have lost your radiance. You could never be plain but this must have been the closest you’d ever got to it. He’s all too aware how you straighten your back, you don’t even feel the pain anymore but still make it a point to appear presentable, as if you’re ready to meet your end.

“Have you come to finish the job yourself?” There’s an airiness to your voice. You’re ready. You know what’s coming. It’s all lead to this. “It’s okay, Fenrys. I’m ready to face the consequences of my actions.” Conflict crosses his features so you reassure him. You find it with yourself to take his hand and guide it to his sword. He doesn’t shake you off nor stop you. Still he looks conflicted. 

“I used to dream of this moment,” He starts holding onto that sword but then he takes your hand instead, placing it over your abdomen and keeps pressure on it. “But I was wrong. I know what you did. I know why. It wasn’t worth it. You did what you could to be selfless, to protect and preserve. You did it at the expense of so many others.” Fenrys thinks for a second while you take in his words. He continues no less. 

“How is it any different than any of this? Why do you deserve to die when we’ve done just the same? When I’ve done just the same in those years of service. It doesn’t make it right but I know I’ll be spending the rest of my days making things right. You are clever and quick witted. You see through lies and deception, and are a master of persuasion. You are stubborn and thickheaded and annoying but most of all you can be a complete and utter bitch. We need that. We need you.” 

“For now I would like to see the stars.” One last time… You don’t say it but something in your heart knows this to be true. The sun is close to set. You don’t even know how long you’d been wandering the fields. It might have been eternity. You knew it would end here on the battlefield. You knew this life of yours would come to an end with Fenrys standing there in front of you. That was your curse wasn’t it? You knew how it would end for Maeve but you never gave her the opportunity to get rid of those who would lead to her downfall prematurely. You had no intention of changing this moment of yours either. It’s best to not mess with the way things are supposed to be. You learned that lesson the hard way. 

Fenrys sees the solemn distance in your eyes. He cannot begin to imagine what runs through your head, not even now he knows the gravity of your life, of the burden you’ve carried ever since you met him. He doesn’t envy you. He simply nods and throws your arm over his shoulder and lifts you as if you were no more than a rag doll. If you wish to see the stars then you will witness them away from death and ruin. With what energy he replenished he takes you to the beautiful hills of some forgotten place. As the last light of the sun sets over the horizon and the grasses rustle in the wind he sets you down. He debates if he should sit down next to you but then he feels the gentle tuck on his sleeve. You stare up at him with bright and peaceful eyes and he finds himself lowering next to you. How is it in the aftermath of it all you have become the embodiment of peace among the chaos? How is he feels that pleasant relief and release now he is near you? 

Together you sit until the silver speckles fill the night’s sky. The air grows cooler, and the wind dances ever so lightly; the only sound of the rustling blades of grass banishing the echoes of haunted clashing steel. You feel warm and comfy and cozy so you slowly lay down and gaze up. An easy smile graces your features, even when you see Fenrys at your side. If someone had told you you’d be here right now in this very moment, you’d have called them fool. Yet here you are. Here he is and he stares at you with something you can’t quite place. There’s pity, regret but that’s as far as you can uncover. 

“It was easy to hate you for all she did to us. We couldn’t do anything about Maeve, loyal or not but you… I see now it wasn’t right- I don’t know- I think what I’m trying to say is I’m sorry it had come to this.” Fenrys stumbles over his words. For that smooth talking and quick-witted fae he is known to be he half expected you to give him shit for it. He’s surprised you don’t. You just smile up at the stars. 

“I’m sorry too. For everything. I wish I could have done better.” There are so many words you want to speak but don’t have the energy for to voice them nor does it seem to be the moment to bring up that horrible past now the healing can finally begin. 

He watches as you struggle to breathe a little. He adjusts, lifts your head and sits behind you so you may lean against him. Throughout his weeks of torture, you’d been the one to clean up the mess. You’d been the one to nurture his wounds and held him while he slept. He’d refused your help at first solely for the fact he hated you, or told himself he did. He meant what he said; it was easy to hate you, to blame you and tell himself you were the villain in the story. You patched him up. You’d given his brother a final resting place when no one else dared to. You’d lied to Maeve’s face about it too. You’d risked it all for him. How could he hate you now knowing what he knows? You’ve been so strong but so broken for so long. You deserve your peace. You deserve the one thing you asked for. He’ll keep you company just as you kept him. That’s what he tried to tell himself at least. 

Hatred can turn from many things. Fenrys is not ashamed to say he’d miss you if you’d become another casualty of this grand scheme of Maeve’s. You asked to see the stars for a reason, thinking it’d be the last thing you’d see. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t try. Your odds might not be looking good but he knows you’re stubborn. He brushes some tangles from your hair with his fingers. 

“Then do better. I dare you to do better, you stubborn little bitch.” He speaks with a laugh. You tilt your head backwards more to look at him and manage to raise an eyebrow, sniffling a snort.

“What?” You’re confused but something within you sparks beneath the surface of your skin. You’d never been one to back down from a challenge set by a furry bastard. A part of your mind asks the right questions; why should you stop now?

“You heard me.” He guides you into a sitting position and pats your cheek. “Think you can’t do it? You lost your game, sunshine.” 

“Fenrys, now is not-“ He places a hand over your mouth and your next words are muffled. You try to remove it but can’t get a grasp.

“No no. I expect a grand apology for all the years of slander of my esteemed character. Besides, if I’m going to do this ambassador thing, I need you to write me a good reference. It’s the least you could do.” He lowers his hand just in time for you to snort.

“Ambassador? You? You don’t even know the first thing about basic etiquette, let alone foreign etiquettes. You’ll start a war within the week.” There’s that spark again. There’s that life in your eyes, that chaos among the calm that he’s hated facing only to be reminded it was the only consistent thing, the thing he took joy in over all these years. It was easy to hate you and blame you but it was never truly satisfying. Fenrys had found great satisfaction in challenging you, teasing you because despite everything, you made a worthy opponent who would meet his challenge. You were a sparring partner in a fight none of his friends could match. 

“What you gonna do about it? Stop me? I’d like to see you try.” He crosses his arms and raises his chin in defiance. Your lips part and you scoff shaking your head. “You can spend the rest if your life looking at the stars right here or you can tell me exactly how I fucked up the precious table settings and ate with the wrong cutlery. Hell, you can even judge me for all the princess I’ll sleep with and haunt me for being banished from nations. Someone needs to know what they’re doing and I sure as hell don’t.” He’s not wrong. He doesn’t know what he’s doing and you do. When he looks forward on his own, all he sees is shortcomings and the need to learn. he could be taught and would be of course. And he’s not completely incompetent but when he looks at you, if he had you with him, he feels safe and confident. 

“Only an idiot would leave you unsupervised.” You’re not wrong and you can see the horrible scenarios play in your mind of Fenrys running half naked out of a country or greatly offending a court for not knowing their customs. He’d be a mess. You know no amount of tutors could put up with his bullshit or have the dog pay attention for more than five minutes. 

“Well then, hello there idiot. You’re my supervisor. Now let’s get you to a healer and a bath because frankly you reek of death.” You feel your heart beat in your ears, feel the rush of blood when he reaches out his hand and offers it to you. He needs you. And in a way you need him. You need Fenrys to remind you what it feels to be alive because that’s what he’s done. He’s taken many hurtful blows to your armour in the past but when you were at a loss, you knew him to be consistent, you knew what to expect and when it mattered most, you had each other despite it all, despite the hatred you had for each other. It won’t be an easy road but then again nothing about Fenrys is easy except maybe his tendency to share his bed with others. You sigh and close your eyes. You nod as you place your hand in his. 

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” 

“Eternally.”

“You better make it worth my time.” The look he gives you when you speak those words; the one that is filled with the most indecent thoughts, tells you enough. 

“You’re the only person who’s ever shared my bed and I haven’t fucked. We can change that.” He teases. Old habits die hard but he’ll never go out of his way to let you know you’re his type. Previously it would be followed by a comment of how your horrible attitude or the moment you’d open your mouth would be an instant mood kill. There’s no follow up comment. 

“I’d like to see you try.” You couldn’t resist the urge to make that comment, to set that challenge and while your initial thought is you’d regret this, everything else screams you won’t. You just won’t make it easy on him. Fenrys laces his fingers with yours, gently pulling your entwined hands towards him and therefore urging you forward. Cocky bastard. 

“How about a kiss first? I’m told it leaves the many wanting for so much more. You up for the challenge?” You don’t answer but instead close the distance and so his lips meet yours. He’s damned. He’s down the rabbit hole and falling forever more. He’s breathless. Few people managed to get him so and he’d be damned if he’d let you win that easily. He’ll still take great pleasure in this moment but when your lips finally part, he has the both of you falling through the worlds and reappear in the healer’s ward. 

“I hate you.” You groan.

“And you can hate me even more after you’re all patched up.” 

[bluelancess]

Midnight Blooms | Elriel AU chapter 2/?

Sports romance, college AU.

Summary: When Elain is told by her father, a ruthless politician, that she is to marry the son of one of his closest friends, Lucien Vanserra, to assure her father’s win on the next election, she has no other choice but to agree. What she never expected was her convictions being tested by a tall, devastatingly beautiful black-haired hockey player who moved in right next door. And if there was one thing Elain was certain of, was that Azriel posed a dangerous threat to the previously dormant desires roaming inside her. And she needed to stay far, far away from him.

Tags: forbidden love, arranged marriage, forced proximity, modern setting, slow burn

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Read on AO3.

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Chapter 2

I notice everything you do or don't do

AZRIEL 

Cassian hits my shoulder hard with one of his huge hands as soon as the main door to the girl’s house closes, and none of them are looking at us anymore. He has probably been waiting to punch me since the invite for the party escaped my lips. 

Good thing he didn’t aim for the jaw or cheekbone, although we do have a no-face-punching rule, but Cassian tends to forget it pretty often. Or at least that’s how he excuses himself every fucking time. 

“What the fuck was that, Az?” He grunts my way. “You want to kill our party before it even starts?” 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” I tell him, taking a couple steps back, I’m holding my third bottle of beer in my right hand, it’s almost over, the liquid pretty much room temperature. 

Last semester, when we lived in that awful one bedroom apartment near campus, parties were one hundred percent off limits. We didn’t even have a living room, for fuck’s sake. The kitchen consisted of the tiniest little oven ever, and a sink that barely fit two plates and a mug. Granted, the rent was cheap. So cheap, we could spend the rest of our money on take-out, liquor and WiFi, which is pretty much all you need to survive college. 

But a couple weeks before finals, the whole building was infested with the fattest, and ugliest rats I’ve ever seen, Cassian even made a sport out of getting the little fuckers out of the apartment, and I guess it was a silent agreement that we couldn’t stay there for another year. No fucking way. 

So I saved every penny I got from all the jobs my boss assigned me during the summer. Yes, maybe not all of them were entirely legal, but they payed generously and in cash, how was I supposed to pass the opportunity when it got us this amazing house? It is only a bonus that we have three, hot as fuck neighbors. Almost like the universe is rewarding us for all the shit it made us go through when we were children. 

About fucking time. 

“Dramatic? I’ve been planning this thing for weeks,” Cassian says, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand. “It’s the last time I can get properly drunk before practice starts. Coach is a pain in the ass with his no-drinking-during-the-season-or-get-the-fuck-out rule, and you know it.” 

“Let’s go inside,” Rhys says, leaving the end of the sentence hanging unsaid in the air, but I imagine it would go as something like: you uncivilized brutes. 

“You’re just proving my point, Cass,” I say, hiding a smile, looking over my shoulder one last time at the house on the other side of the street, I stop on my tracks when I see the curtain of the kitchen window rustle. Are they still watching us? 

Is she still watching us?

The pretty, quiet one. Fuck, I couldn’t look away from those big, sweet eyes and those full, pink lips. I’d die to just give them a little taste, a tiny bite until she’s melting and moaning against me. I remember her from last year. We took a class together, I’m pretty sure she never really noticed me. She sat at the front, I sat on the back. She was quiet, so shy, did all the group assignments on her own, and always got the highest grade. The professor used to be a jerk and tease her because she was so smart, but so damn quiet she never showed how fucking intelligent she was to the rest of the class. I had to fight the urge to kick his ugly ass whenever he started his shit with her. 

It made the whole class laugh at her expense, the fucking asshole. 

I admit my reasons for inviting them to the party were completely selfish. I saw an opportunity and took it. Now, the real surprise would be if she actually shows up tomorrow night. 

“I also think it is a good idea to have them over for the party,” Rhysand says, putting one hand on my left shoulder, and the other on Cassian’s, guiding us inside the house. “They won’t call the cops if they’re having a good time. Right, Az?” 

I shrug. “Sure.”

“Oh, come on, you two,” Cassian shakes his head like his disappointed. “Always thinking with your dicks.” 

“Not my problem that girl is giving you blue balls.” I say, walking a bit faster to get away from him before he decides to punch something other than my shoulder. 

Cassian grunts. 

“Is that why you’ve been so moody all summer?” Rhys asks lifting a brow, and Cass shoots him a death glare. “Wait, don’t tell me you fell in love with this girl after just one night, Cassian. We’re not fifteen anymore” 

“Shut up, asshole.” 

“I’m just saying.” Rhys lifts both hands in the air, innocently. 

I smile, watching them. We’ve been together, the three of us, since we were little kids. Pretty much fending for ourselves in a world that doesn’t like people like us. Alone, but never really lonely. From foster home to foster home. By some miracle, we were always placed together in different families. Five to be exact. Most kicked us out after a couple months, claimed we were too much to handle, or whatever the fuck that means. 

We were children, noisy, curious, maybe a little too energetic, but they wanted us to behave like robots, follow orders to a tee, never complain, and of course, they wanted the government’s money. Turns out, dealing with us wasn’t worth the little compensation they were receiving, so ultimately all of them ended up throwing us back into the black whole we came from. 

Everything changed when we got to Gramps and Nana’s house. Recently retired, house empty after their biological kids were all grown up and left, they decided to take us in. Treated us like their own. It was so unlike every single other house we’d been at, the we contemplated running away the first two weeks. It felt too good to be true. Almost like a trap. 

Nana won us over with her killer brownies and Gramps taught us everything he knew about hockey. 

We wouldn’t be here without them. 

“Well, don’t ask,” Cassian starts walking up the stairs, like the subject actually bothers him, which is completely unusual for him. “I’m telling you guys, those girls are going to be nothing but trouble.” 

Rhys eyes gleam like he’s visualizing exactly what Cassian is referring to, and he’s up for the challenge. 

“Isn’t that the fun of it, Cass?” Rhys teases him. 

“When you’re the one walking around with blue balls over that girl, Rhys, we’ll talk.” 

“Oh, but I won’t.” Rhys’ voice is laced in arrogant confidence. 

“She has a boyfriend,” I remind him, nearing our brand new couch in the living room. It’s dark blue, almost black, and it’s huge. It had to be, if it wants to fit the three of us at the same time. Gramps gifted it to us before we moved here, said he couldn’t bare the thought of us sitting on the floor on such a big house. Is pretty much the only piece of decent furniture we own. 

“Not for long.” Rhys shrugs, opening the fridge we have in the living room and grabbing another beer. It seemed like a better place than the kitchen, considering that if we’re watching sports we don’t have to walk all the way there to grab something to drink. 

Cassian barks a laugh. “You’re too cocky, is going to bite you in the ass.” 

“I happen to enjoy ass bites.” Rhys laughs again, and I’m silently glad we’re not fighting. 

We hardly ever do. 

We’ve been through so much already, always sticking together, and having each other’s back, that there doesn’t seem to be anything that would be important enough for us to fight over. 

Cassian shakes his head, and climbs the stairs like he has so much pent up energy he’d like to release. A couple seconds later, he’s blasting music in his bedroom and to probably hide the annoying noise his rusty-ass treadmill makes. It’s so old the damn thing is practically falling apart by just looking at it. 

“If I’d known those three lived here, I would’ve moved out from that rat hell a lot sooner,” Rhys says, sitting next to me, and turning on the television, none of us really pay attention to it. I don’t have to look at my brother to know his eyes are also glued to the window right beside the screen, the one that gives us a front row seat to the house in front. 

“They moved in last year,” I tell him, taking the beer from his grip to steal a sip.

“You know them?” He asks me, a curious look in his eyes. I know almost everyone. I like to watch people. Listen when they think I’m not paying attention. I happened to learn at a very young age, that information is the real currency of the world. It can get you pretty much anywhere you want to go if you know how to use it correctly.

“Just two of them.” I tell him, giving his beer back. “The third one is probably a freshman. I’d never seen her around here before.” 

“I hadn’t seen any of them around here before.” 

“Nesta’s pre-law,” I begin to explain. “Has every loser in campus either shitting their pants on her presence or trying to get into her pants.” 

“That’s Cassian’s?” Rhys asks, as if it needs confirmation. 

“Yup,” I nod. “And Elain… No idea what her major is. She’s pretty reserved, keeps to herself, doesn’t go out much.” I shrug, pretending she doesn’t pique my interest in the slightest, which couldn’t be further from the truth. “I took a class with her last year, I’m guessing she’s maybe an art major.” 

Rhys takes a big gulp from his beer. “That leaves us the third sister.” 

“Right, the one with the boyfriend.” 

“Love it that you keep reminding me,” Rhys shoots me a not so friendly glare. 

“There’s a thousand girls on campus that would pretty much give up their first born to sleep with you, Rhys,” I remind him. “No need to want one that’s unavailable.”  

“I happen to like challenges.” His shoulders go tense when the door of the house in front of ours opens, and the girl whose name we don’t know yet walks out, some cash on her hand. There’s a bike in the street, some skinny guy pulling handing her two boxes of pizza. 

She thanks him with a wide smile, and Rhys takes a long gulp from his beer. 

“Yeah, but you’re a sore loser.” 

He smiles wickedly at me. “Which only means I have to make sure I don’t lose.” 

I roll my eyes, and he simply lets out a dark chuckle. I’m not joking when I say any of us could get literally any girl on campus we wanted. They’re practically drooling at our feet, mostly after games, and the quota of girls drastically increases if we win it. But, after a couple years playing for the Night Beasts, and getting used to the attention, it has only made it… boring. Predictable. 

Too easy. 

Rhysand grabs the keys of his pick-up truck that were laying on top of the fridge and hands me his half empty beer bottle.

“Where are you going?” 

“To buy the best fucking wine I can get my hands on.” 

He leaves before I can stop him, and I’m left on my own in the big, dark first floor of the house, surrounded by nothing but shadows, peeking trough the window like a complete stalker, at the way they’re sitting in the kitchen table, eating pizza and laughing. My eyes glued to one of the sisters in particular, her soft smiles, the curve of her neck, her lips wrapping around the straw of her drink, putting such filthy images in my head I force myself to look away, adjust the bulge on my pants and go take a cold shower. 

Fuck. 

It’s going to be a long year. 

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in honor of time magazine softlaunching elriel i decided to post another chapter! I actually never thought people would read it so i'm glad you guys are liking it<333

[boybandbaby]

I'm Not The Only One

Summary: You and Steve hate each other. He sees your boyfriend cheat on you. Will you believe him?

Word Count: 2316

Note: Not revised. This was an idea I got while listening to Sam Smith.

Your best friend was Eddie Munson and he had introduced you to the group when you moved back to Hawkins the summer after he graduated. Eddie spent so much time with his friends, especially Dustin that you grew close to him as well. You assume this is where the hatred from Steve started.

Steve would often hear your name so much it started to piss him off. First it was simple things such as Max or Nancy skipping out on group hangouts to go to the mall or a concert with you. Then it was his two closest friends Robin and Dustin who would go to you for things instead of Steve. It started with Robin: “Sorry Steve, Y/N is actually giving me a ride” after a shift. Then came Dustin: “I’m going to ask for Y/N’s opinion” on his outfit for a school dance or a date. Steve felt he was slowly getting replaced. With his lack of parents and his growing insecurities, Steve could feel himself isolating and becoming lonely. Soon, he would start flaking on group activities too and stop offering rides to his friends. 

Everyone noticed but no one knew how to bring up Steve’s absence. He would ignore their phone calls and door visits. He would be “too busy” at work to talk to Robin about it. He would somehow always be “unloading boxes” or “doing inventory” in the backroom when the kids would appear.

The group then decided to have a little meeting to see what they should do about it. It was when you suggested that maybe you should go talk to him about it, that the group started piecing together your new presence in the group coincided with his new absence. After much bickering from both Wheelers about how this seemed like a bad idea, you decided to just do it anyway.

So here you were, knocking for a third time on Steve Harrington's door. Eddie, Dustin, Robin, Lucas, and Max decided to “hide out” in Eddie’s van across the street to watch. You could definitely see them from the front door and so would Steve if he ever answered. You started getting impatient with Steve. His car was clearly in the driveway and you could hear the sound of a tv through the door.

“Steve, I know you’re in there. I can hear you.” You shouted. “If you don’t want to answer the door, I’ll just say my piece through the door.” You waited a few seconds. No reply. “Okay then, well we’re all worried about you. If me or any of the others did something to upset you, we’d like to know so we could fix it. I offered to come and speak with you because we all agreed ever since I joined the group, you’ve been off. If I’ve offended you or hurt you, I’d like to talk about it.”

The door suddenly opens and Steve’s looking as cozy and handsome as ever. Was he always this pretty? “H-hi Ste-” Your stuttering is cut short by Steve’s glaring and stern voice.

“I don’t want to speak with you.” He looks over your shoulder and can see Eddie’s van with several heads poking through the windows. “You can tell them that too. You know, since you’re this great, amazing, wonderful person. They clearly don’t need me anymore since they have you. Miss perfect.” He scoffs.

“Stev-” You attempt to stop him to ask what the hell is going on.

“Just go. Honestly, just get out of Hawkins. Go back to wherever the hell you came from and leave us alone. More importantly, leave me alone.” And with that the door slams in your face, leaving you in a blanket of embarrassment and anger. That was the start of your hatred for Steve.

-

A few years had gone by, the kids now seniors in high school. You’d met them when they were soon to be sophomores. Steve had integrated back into the group when you dialed back on your involvement. You’d often still hang out with Max or Lucas, and of course Eddie. But you started declining solo hangouts with Robin or Dustin and sometimes Nancy. Steve didn’t want to believe or think he was only useful now that you were out of the picture, well partially, but he appreciated it. It definitely helped with the loneliness too.

Over the last two years, anytime you’d see Steve, you’d just roll your eyes and keep your snarky comments to yourself (and Eddie who’d just chuckle and shake his head). Steve wasn’t as professional as you were though. He’d “accidentally” bump into you causing you to stumble, not enough to where you’d fall or seriously hurt yourself but enough to irk you and distract from whatever task you were doing. If you are at movie nights, he’d steal the entire bowl of popcorn or take the last slice of pizza or be super obnoxious by licking the top of the soda bottle so you (or anyone else) could have some. Of course Eddie would defend your honor and tell Steve to lay off and share his snacks with you, but it started to become too much. And there was the name calling: you forgot what time a hangout was? You’re dumb. You got over excited about a new song or movie? You’re a dork. You were too scared to go into a haunted house? You’re lame. So ultimately you started pulling back from the group even more.

This led you to seek friends in other places. That’s how you met Matt. Friend turned boyfriend. You’d met while on a solo trip to the arcade. He’d noticed you were playing Pac-Man alone and offered to play with you. You’d spent the entire night playing games and shared a basket of fries and chicken tenders. After exchanging phone numbers, you’d promise to see each other again. 

A few weeks later, you’d walked hand in hand into Family Video, all smiles as you searched the racks of movies. 

“Who the hell is that?” Steve leaned his elbows onto the counter, watching you and Matt. “She’s got a boyfriend? Since when?”

“They’ve been dating for like a month, you dingus. I’d think you’d realize that since she’s been spending less time with us.” Robin laughed quietly.

“Surprised anyone would want to date her, since she’s a witch.” Steve smiled at a customer who approached the counter. As he made small talk and rang the man up, you and Matt separated so you could go talk to Robin. Matt continued to scan the shelves, finding something you both might like. 

“Hey girly,” you smiled at Robin. “How’s work?”

“Better now that you’re here.” She winked, both of you chuckling. “How are things with Matt?”

“Good, good. We’re having a movie night at his place.” You smiled and looked over to Steve. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He laughed and threw his hands up in surrender. “You know, you might like this movie here. Since you starred in it and everything.” He handed you a copy of The Wizard of Oz.

You rolled your eyes, quick to respond. “You’re in it too ya know? You must have made a lot of money playing three roles. No heart, no brain, and a coward. I guess it didn’t take much to play those roles.”

“She got you there, Steve.” Robin laughed. 

“Matt, I’m going to wait outside.” You called.

“Okay babe, I’m almost done choosing.” He smiled, grabbing a copy of Grease. “Hey man, just this one.” He handed it to Steve.

“Sure thing.” He sighed and rang Matt up. Steve watched as Matt made his way out to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders and walking to his car. Steve scowled while Robin snickered. “What’s funny?”

“Oh dude, you’re so jealous.” Robin hopped onto the counter. “You like Y/N.”

“Absolutely not.” Steve faked a gag. “She’s the worst.”

“Why do you hate her so much? She literally never did anything.” Robin kicked Steve’s hip with her foot.

“She tried to replace me!” He argued.

“She did not. She had just moved here and her only friend was Eddie. She just wanted to make friends. You,” She kicked his butt cheek as he turned to leave from behind the counter. “Got jealous and blew up on her.”

“Did not.”

“Did too. And now you like her.” Robin hopped off the counter. “You try to hide it by being mean to her but you really like her.” She starts to make kissing noises. “You’re such a cliche Harrington.”

“Am not.” He tosses a rag toward her. “And I don’t like her.”

_

To say this night was a mess was a huge understatement. Not only had Steve’s comments actually hurt, but Matt was acting completely like Danny Zuko. You’d been watching Grease on his couch, snuggled under a blanket, when he tried to pull a move like Danny did to Sandy. You’d declined because you wanted to just watch the movie but he insisted. Then he made you feel guilty about not kissing him yet. You hadn’t had a serious kiss before and wanted to wait a bit. Your first kiss was with Eddie, a friendship pact to kiss each other and get it over with before you both turned 18. It was not good and you’d both laughed while it was happening. Now that you were looking to get serious with someone, you wanted a good first kiss redo.

The night had ended abruptly after you rushed off the couch and told Matt you’d see him later. You promised to call him when you got home. That call was not answered on his end. 

You tried calling him several times over the weekend but they all went unanswered. Had you messed up? No, he messed up. He was the one behaving like an idiot. You decided you’d go to his house and squash this entire thing Monday night after your morning shift.

What you hadn’t known was that he’d been preoccupied all weekend with his ex girlfriend Annalise. 

-

“You’re just trying to hurt Y/N. That didn’t happen Steve. It’s not funny.” Robin rolled her eyes. 

“I’m not Robin! I saw him. He had his arm wrapped around this girl that was not Y/N!” Steve followed her around the store as she reshelved returned tapes. “His tongue was down her throat. I swear.”

“How do you even know it was Matt?” She turned to face him, jumping when she realized just how close he was.

“He had on that stupid sweater vest and that lame haircut. I know it was him. Now you have to call Y/N and tell her.” He urged. 

“Why don’t you call and tell her yourself?” Robin shrugged. “You actually saw them.”

“She’ll believe you. She’ll never trust my word.” Steve pleaded. “Please, you have to tell her.” He grabbed the movie from her. “Please.” He whispered.

“I love Y/N but Steve, I didn’t see it and I don’t want to speak about something I don’t know about. Maybe ask Eddie to talk to her.” Robin snatched the movie back from Steve.

“If I tell Eddie, we’ll both be forced to kick this guy’s ass. I’d like to avoid going to jail for murder.” Steve sighed. “Please just talk to Y/N.”

“Talk to me about what?” Your voice carried across the store as their heads snapped to the door. The bell above the door definitely needed to be fixed. How did they not hear you come in? “Cat got your tongue?” You laughed and approached the counter.

“I was just telling Robin that you forgot to return Grease. It was due yesterday.” Steve muttered. 

“Actually, it’s under Matt’s name. So he forgot to return it. You can give him a call.” You shrugged. “Not sure if he’ll  answer the phone though.” You sighed.

“Well, what brings you in?” Steve asked nervously. There was no normal tone of annoyance or snarkiness laced in his words. You raised an eyebrow.

“Was just looking to speak to Robin actually. Girl problems.” You turn to look for her but she’s nowhere to be found. “Robin? Where’d she go?”

Steve’s just as clueless as you. He clears his throat and steps behind the counter. “So, um… how are things?”

“How are things?” You chuckle. “Why do you care?”

“I’m just trying to make small talk to fill in the awkwardness of this interaction.” He replies honestly. “How’s Matt?”

“I don’t know.” You lean against the counter. “He hasn’t been answering my calls. We kind of had a weird thing happen Friday night. That’s what I came by to ask Robin ab-”

“He’s cheating on you.” Steve blurts.

Your body tenses and you lean off the counter. “What?”

“He’s cheating. I saw him with another girl.”

“That’s not funny, Steve.” You glare at him, eyes narrowing. “You’re always so mean but this is super hurtful.”

“I’m not making a joke Y/N. I saw him!” He steps out from behind the counter as you start to back away. “I wanted to tell you but I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Who else knows? Who else was there?” You ask quietly, tears springing into your eyes.

“Just me.” He sighs. “I was grabbing food after work when I saw-”

“When? What day?” 

“Friday night. I thought it wasn’t him because he should’ve been with you.” He steps forward. “But he was wearing that vest with the diamond pattern. The green one. That’s how I remembered him.”

Suddenly, unfortunately, the bell signaling a new customer went off. Both you and Steve jumped at the sound, looking to the door.

“Welcome to Family Video!” Robin shouted as she entered from the back room. Her eyes flickered between Steve and you. You had to get out of there. And you did. Running as fast as possible back to your car. 

[padfootagain]

The Last Chance (III)

Chapter 3 : Loving

Here is the third and last part of my short series for Ben, that I’ve written based on a request for my Comeback Event! The trope requested was ‘wrong time to right time’.

Alright I am referring here to one of Ben’s cover and you can actually find it on youtube, I have checked (and it’s so pretty nzlnfinfeoii); and I’m also using his acoustic video for 11:11 (you know, the one with the piano and the pretty sunset…). Just so you know, you can listen to these on youtube, if you want to.

Also, did I cry at 1am writing this ending? Absolutely, get the tissues ready!

I hope you like this last part! Tell me what you think about it!

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warning: angst… with a happy ending 😉 And this time, it really is a fluffy ending! Also, mentions of Covid and quarantine.

Summary: you and Ben have been caught in a game of hide and seek for decades now; always loving each other at the wrong time in your lives. Can this finally be the right moment for the two of you?

Word count: 7821

You check the news again, but it’s the same thing everywhere…

Your holidays might get way longer than you intended them to be.

“So, you’re sure you can’t come back?”

Your boss’s voice comes through your phone distorted and more high-pitched than it really is. She sounds worried more than annoyed.

“Yeah, all flights going out of the US are cancelled.”

“Damn… bloody virus… Do you want us to handle anything for you here? A pet? A plant? An annoying parent?”

“No, I’m all good, thank you,” you laugh. “My mom is taking care of my plants already. I’ll be fine. I’ll try to come back as soon as I can, I’m sure the embassy will come up with a plan in the coming weeks.”

“Okay, well… be careful while you’re there. Do you have somewhere to stay? You can’t stay at the hotel for too long.”

“I haven’t found out where I’m going to stay for now, but… I’ll figure something out, don’t worry.”

“Alright. Well… if you could take a few notes for a future article, it would be great. Like ‘our journalist’s experience of Covid from the US’. Or… ‘stuck with the virus in LA.’ Oh that one sounds good…”

You laugh at your boss, promising to keep her updated and to take notes for an article, and you heave a sigh.

You’re stuck here. The new restrictions for Covid mean that you can’t get a flight to London. Not for the next two more weeks, at least.

You have no idea what to do… For now, you can pay for the hotel room, but if this lasts for longer that these two weeks, then you’ll have to find another place to live.

What are you going to do?

Your phone vibrates in your hand, and Ben’s name appear on the screen. You can’t refrain a small smile.

You’ve been friends for years now, ever since he travelled back to LA from London that spring, when you met again in this bookshop. You can’t say that he’s your closest friend, but you keep in touch. You call each other at least once a month, and whenever he comes to see his family, you manage to spend some time together. Besides… he’s still your best friend, in a way. Sure, he’s not the one you talk to the most, but he’s undoubtedly the person you trust the most on this earth. You would be lying if you pretended that you didn’t come to LA for your three-weeks long vacation for him.

You accept the incoming call, a smile on your lips.

“Hi, Ben!”

“Hey! Huh… how are you?”

“I’m fine. You?”

“Good… I was calling you because I saw on the news that all flights towards the UK are cancelled. Is your plane cancelled as well?”

“Yep! New restrictions for Covid, so… I’m stuck here for now.”

“Shit! I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve warned everyone at home, and my boss has decided that my little adventure in LA will make a great article. So, it could be worse, really.”

He chuckles.

“I’m not surprised about your boss, for a reason.”

“Me neither.”

“But… can’t they plan something for people living in the UK to go home?”

“For now, nothing. I’ve contacted the embassy: they’ve announced that it will take at least a couple of weeks to organize something to get us all home.”

“I see. Do you have a place to stay?”

“Well, so far, I can pay for the hotel. If it takes longer than two weeks, it might get tricky, but we’ll see…”

“Don’t be silly!” he interrupts you. “You’re not going to stay at a hotel and pay for a room when I live here.”

“That’s… what I’ve been doing for the past three weeks…”

“Yes, because you said you didn’t want to bother me, and these were your vacations, so I get it that you didn’t want to have me around 24/7,” he interrupts you again, and you can hear in his tone that he’s rolling his eyes. “But now it’s different. What if it takes longer than that? No, you should come over. I have a guest room, you’ll be comfortable, and you won’t empty your bank account because of this mess. Come on, say yes.”

You heave a sigh, but can’t find any argument against him.

“Alright, I’ll come over.”

“Good, I’ll be at your hotel in an hour, I’ll pick you up.”

“I can take the bus…”

“Y/N. Stop it.”

“But…”

“You’re so annoying, always refusing people’s help…”

He’s mumbling, and you can hear that he is annoyed, in a tender way. It makes you smile fondly.

“Alright, I’ll wait for my chauffeur, then.”

“Perfect, see you.”

Ben ends the call and puts down his phone on his piano. You’re coming over…

You’re… you’re staying, actually.

He grabs a paper and a pen and starts a list.

Groceries

Vacuum

Bed

Dinner

Did he forget something? He doesn’t think so.

He’s got to clean up the apartment (that is already spotless), change the sheets of your bed (which are already perfectly clean), he needs to go buy some groceries (even though his fridge is full, but he doesn’t have any of the biscuits you like, and if you’re staying for a while, you’ll probably need some tampons or pads, and he’s seen in your apartment the brand you usually use, so he knows what to get for you), and he needs to buy dinner before picking you up (he tries to think of something fancy but he reckons a pizza will be perfect).

He frowns when his phone buzzes on his piano, and picks it up again to check the text he’s just received.

Monica.

He ignores the message, and crosses his apartment to change the sheets of your bed.

He broke up with her three weeks before, but he doesn’t blame her for being a little clingy, for trying to get him back. But there’s no use.

Three weeks before, that was when you knocked on his front door as a surprise, with a pack of beers and a pizza and his favourite jaffa cakes. That was when you spent the evening laughing, and rambling about your lives, until you both fell asleep while watching some crappy TV. That was when he woke up with you in his arms, cuddled up into his side. That was when he spent over half an hour just… staring at you. Studying your features. Trying to remember every detail about you.

And it was ridiculous because your lives were different, ridiculously so. Still, he wanted to kiss you that morning. He wanted to hold you tight, and to never let go again.

How could he be with Monica after that?

He heaves a sigh at the thought. He shouldn’t be feeling like that. The two of you are friends, and it’s better this way. Still… he’s nervous at the thought of you coming here and staying over.

He heaves another sigh as he throws the sheets in the washing machine. He’s being ridiculous. Absolutely, completely, irrevocably ridiculous.

Still, he double-checks that he’s put an extra blanket on your bed, because he knows how cold you get in the first hours of the morning.

Maybe you’re a little drunk. Maybe… maybe you’re very drunk at this point.

You don’t mind though, Ben has seen you in a worse shape than this. He’s seen you with a stomach flu, he’s seen you drunk enough to throw up for hours, he’s held your hair while you were sick, he’s kissed your burning forehead when you had fever, he’s helped you undress and shower when you were too weak to stand…

You’re not worried about misbehaving, about being silly. Not with him. And especially not now, when he’s slowly moving beyond the state of tipsiness. He’s particularly goofy tonight, being his usual hilarious self, and you love it. Every second of it. His ridiculous funny faces and his weird voices and his stupid jokes. You love everything about it. Your sides are painful after so much laughing, and you can’t remember the last time you were this merry.

It feels good. It feels peaceful and safe. He makes you forget about the pandemic, about you being stuck here instead of being with your family in London; he makes you forget about how worried you are about your parents, and your friends; he makes you forget about your job, about your boss and her stupid article.

As you look at him standing up to get more crisps, you can’t help but let your gaze travel across his frame. You just can’t. He’s too handsome for that, and you are too drunk.

Your gaze travels across his living room as you wait for him, and lingers on his piano. You’re happy he’s finally been learning how to play. You know he’s always wanted to. You’re happy for him. You’re happy about his career, about this life he has built for himself; a life that clearly suits him.

You don’t wait for him to sit down by your side again to speak to him, and you ask the question that’s on the tip of your tongue as soon as you hear him turning off the light of the kitchen.

“Can you play something for me?”

He raises up an eyebrow, looking at you questioningly before putting down the plate of crisps on the coffee table.

“Play? Play what?”

“The piano, of course.”

“Yeah, I got that, thank you,” he rolls his eyes. “I mean… why do you want me to play all of a sudden?”

“Because… I’ve seen you play the drums, I’ve watched you sing, you’ve played the guitar for me too… but never the piano.”

He chuckles, looking at you as if you’re a little mad, but he ends up shrugging anyway.

“If you want to, sure.”

“YES!”

You jump to your feet, almost falling in your inebriated state, and you rush to sit before the piano, scooting over to leave enough space for Ben to sit by your side.

He explodes with laughter at your silly behaviour.

“What can you play?” you ask him, being serious again.

Your words are a little slurred because of the red wine you’ve been drinking during the evening. He finds it charming.

He thinks about what he could play for a moment.

“I’ve been learning some Bowie…”

He’s interrupted by your gasp.

“Oh dear… can you play Space Oddity? I remember… you used to sing this song to me all the time when we were in College. I loved it.”

“You did?”

“Of course! Your voice is beautiful!”

He chuckles, blushing fiercely.

“Alright, I can give it a try. But don’t laugh at my musical skills! I’m still learning the piano.”

“I know nothing about music, I am not the one who is going to criticize you in any way.”

He gives you a tender smile as he takes a seat by your side.

You are so close like this, shoulder against shoulder. His heart is skipping beats, and jumping every time you move against him.

“Alright… give me a second.”

He plays a few notes to get ready, before clearing his throat. He’s blushing hard, and it’s adorable. You rest your head on his shoulder as he starts playing the song.

You close your eyes when he starts singing, his voice deep and soft and warm…

You hope he doesn’t notice too much the way you reach to hold on the aim of his black t-shirt, but you need something to hold onto. It’s a little too overwhelming for you to handle on your own.

You smile, listening closely. And it’s perfect. It always is with him…

When his voice finally dies out in a soft humming, you don’t want it to be over. The last note of the piano wanes, shushed down as it spreads through the room, bumps into the furniture and the walls. You breathe deeply his scent, something of wood and spices, and you love it. It’s warm and welcoming, just like him.

You’re surprised when he leans down to drop a kiss on your head, but you don’t complain. You smile instead.

“So… how bad was it?” he jokes.

“It was beautiful, as usual.”

He chuckles, and you tighten your hold on his t-shirt while a happy smile spreads across your lips.

“Not too disappointed by your private performance? You know these don’t come cheap, right?”

“Hmm… well, I’m sure I’ll repay that debt, one day.”

He kisses your hair again, and you snuggle closer to him, until he reaches out to wrap his arm around you, pulling you to him.

He’s got butterflies in his stomach like he hasn’t felt for years. His heart is pounding and yet he feels at peace like this, holding you close, his lips against your hair, breathing in deeply the smell of cherries from your shampoo.

He hasn’t felt this way in years. In fact… he reckons he hasn’t felt this way since London…

“Why do you not work more on your music?”

You look up at him with a questioning look, but he shrugs.

“I do. I’ve learnt the piano.”

“Yes, but… you’ve always wanted to write songs, to play your own music… why do you not do it? It’s not as if you lacked the talent for it.”

“I don’t think I’m that good,” he chuckles, but you’re having none of it.

“Now, that’s bullshit. And you know it. You’re just scared, don’t hide behind excuses.”

You’ve always been more direct than usual when you’re drunk. He likes it. He needs to hear things like that, every now and then.

“I don’t know, I just… I love acting. I don’t want music to be my main career. But… you’re right, I want to give it more space in my life.”

“Then, give it more space. I mean… we’re stuck here. You can’t work anyway, so… might as well use your free time to do something you’ve always wanted to do.”

His smile grows fonder.

“I love how blunt you are when you’re drunk. It’s annoying. You’re always right.”

“I’m always right when I’m sober too!”

He laughs at you, running a hand through your hair.

“And what should I do then? About music?”

You shrug.

“Write songs.”

“I’ve always done that.”

“Snippets, yes, but… I don’t know. Just… compose. Make your own music.”

“What should I write about?”

“About… whatever you want to express, but can’t say in any other way. Isn’t that what art is supposed to be about? Telling stories and sharing feelings that you can’t just… say out loud? You need the artifice of music, of poetry, of fantasy worlds, of colours… or you can’t let it out at all.”

You give him a smile, as if you had just told him something random about the weather, instead of something that echoes within his soul more than you can ever imagine…

“I really love this stupid freckle under your eye,” you blurt out, your voice almost a whisper.

“Really?” he asks with a teasing smile.

“Hmm… it’s lovely. You’re lovely…”

You heave a sigh.

“My head is spinning a bit.”

“You should go to bed.”

“In a minute…”

He looks at you as your eyes close again, as you settle more comfortably in his arms.

You’re beautiful. You always are but… the thought settles in his mind in a painful way now.

It kills him, really. It kills him the way he still wants you…

“Y/N?”

“Hmmm?”

“Are you okay? Do you want me to help you go to bed?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You’re sure, darling?”

He feels that you’re tensing against him, but you don’t move away. He bites his tongue.

What an idiot… everything was going so well… he had to open his big mouth…

“You can’t call me that anymore,” you tell him, but your voice is not angry, nor annoyed. You’re just presenting a fact.

“I know, sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I’m not your darling anymore.”

He hates it, the way your words hurt him. They’re so painful… even if they’re true. Maybe because they are true, actually…

“I know. I’m sorry, don’t be mad…”

“I’m not mad. But… you can’t call me that anymore. You should call your girlfriend that, Monica.”

“We broke up, remember?”

“I know. Did you call her that too?”

But he shakes his head. He’s a little drunk, it’s the only reason why these words are passing the barrier of his lips. He’s blushing profusely, but you can’t see it, your eyes are still closed.

It’s quiet in the apartment, it’s late already. No one outside, no car, nothing. It’s silent, until Ben speaks again.

“No, I didn’t call her that.”

“Why? How did you call her?”

“I don’t know… I didn’t feel like calling her that, that’s all.”

“But it’s your favourite pet name.”

“I know. That’s why it’s still yours.”

You open your eyes, but don’t look at him. You’re a little too scared for that.

“If things were different… if we didn’t live so far apart… do you think we could…”

“I don’t know, Ben,” you interrupt him.

It’s too painful to think about this…

He nods.

“Sometimes… sometimes I really wish things were different between us,” he admits in a shaky whisper. “I wish… stars would finally align for us or something.”

“Me too.”

A sad smile appears on his lips, and he closes his eyes, head thrown back to withhold his tears.

“But?”

“But… our lives are too different. And we can’t let ourselves act the way we did in London, not anymore. We’re friends now, we can’t be anything more than that.”

“Why must our lives never match?” he asks in a whisper. “Why do we keep on drifting apart?”

You look up at him, and he finally meets your eyes once more.

“It’s like your music, Ben. We’re prioritizing stuff. We’re not making enough room for us. It wouldn’t work, not right now…”

“I would make room for you.”

You know he means it, but you shake your head.

“It wouldn’t work. I can’t come to live here.”

“Who said anything about that?”

“You’re not going to move back to London, are you?”

“Things have changed in fourteen years. We have zoom now, and facetime, and we don’t have to pay a fortune for a phone call in a foreign country anymore…”

“Ben… stop it.”

He grows silent again, and you hate how sad he looks.

“There’s no use. We’ve moved on. That’s why we didn’t talk to each other for ten years, so we could get over each other. You have your life, and I have mine, and we’re friends, and that’s enough.”

He nods, forcing a smile to his lips. He is good at hiding how his heart is breaking.

Because you’ve moved on, that’s what you’re saying. You’ve fallen out of love... And he hasn’t.

Now more than ever, it strikes him how much he still loves you. How, if he truly faces his feelings, he has never stopped loving you. Even after your breakup. Even during these ten years you spent as strangers. Even when he loved other women. You were still there, somewhere, in his heart.

But you’ve moved on, and he hasn’t. And it’s breaking his heart, but it’s okay. He’ll manage. He’s been managing for fourteen years.

You look at the clock, rubbing your eyes to chase away your fatigue. You smile.

“11:11! We should make a wish!”

“A wish?”

“Yeah! You’ve never done that? If you look at the clock randomly, and it’s 11:11, you must make a wish.”

He chuckles.

“That’s funny.”

“Alright, close your eyes, make a wish!”

He looks at you as you close your eyes, and he chuckles again before doing the same.

And his wish is for you…

He can hardly wait as he looks for you in the crowd. The airport is busy, full of tourists, families reuniting, friends parting. He’s got a black cap on to avoid being recognized in such a dense crowd. He goes on his tiptoes to try and spot you as travellers flood the hall, pulling their suitcases behind them or pushing their trolley. His heart is beating so fast, he’s excited to see you…

Since the pandemic, you’ve grown much closer as friends. Instead of calling each other every month, you started calling each other once a week, and then every day. Maybe it was because you had lived together for several weeks, it was strange to be completely apart for too long after that.

He isn’t complaining though. He loves it, actually, being close to you again.

He knows it’s not romantic, by any mean. He hasn’t forgotten your words from that night. You’ve moved on. You don’t feel like this anymore, but he does. He hates to admit it, but he does have feelings for you that go well beyond friendship. It’s alright though, he’s not complaining. You’re here, it’s all that matters.

He spots you easily, he always does. No matter if you’re in an empty room or in a crowd, he always finds you easily, as if his eyes are trained to recognize your silhouette. It’s almost a sixth sense.

He grins as you spot him too and wave at him. You look gorgeous, as always.

You rush through the crowd and into his arms, making him laugh as he holds you tightly against him.

“It’s so good to see you!” you squeal in excitement.

“I’m happy to see you too. I’ve missed you.”

You finally walk out of his embrace, locking your elbow with his as you head towards the exit, you pulling your suitcase and Ben carrying your heavy bag. You haven’t walked out of the airport that you’re already chatting merrily, catching up on lost time.

It’s easy. To be around you, to look at you laughing. It’s easy to talk to you, to make you giggle in an adorable way, to get lost in your eyes.

He recognizes the feelings easily, he felt the same sixteen years ago…

“So, what have you planned for my vacations, mister?” you ask, a bright grin glued on your face as you climb in his car and fasten your seatbelt.

“Well, first we’re going to my place to drop all your stuff, as you’ve decided to bring your entire apartment with you,” he playfully answers, teasing you and making you roll your eyes and scoff. “And then… I thought that we could either relax at my place, watch a movie or just talk for a while; or we can go to the beach.”

“I have to admit that after that long flight, relaxing on your very comfortable couch sounds wonderful.”

“A relaxed afternoon it is, then. But tell me everything! You came here for work, what is it all about?”

You smile, but don’t dare answer yet. You don’t want to tell him until you’re certain about this, that it’s all going to work out. You still have an interview scheduled next week. It will define whether or not you get a job here, in LA.

It would mean moving to the US, in this busy town…

…next to him.

But you’re not sure yet. First, you need to nail this interview of yours. Then, you need to talk about it with him. Because you don’t think he feels like that anymore. You do though. It has never really stopped. Despite your boyfriends, despite the distance, despite the years spent completely apart not even on speaking terms… you still feel this way. The same way you felt sixteen years ago.

As you watch him drive through the large roads of LA, with his dark sunglasses, and the happy crinkles at the corners of his eyes showing more than usual because of the way he’s smiling… you wish the two of you could give it a try.

You set your gaze on the cars before you again while Ben starts asking you questions about your flight, your family, your job. You’ll see how all this turns out. For now, you’re here, and that’s enough.

Ben’s been on the phone for a while, and you’re getting worried. You hope it’s nothing too serious, and nothing that will require from him to fly away.

He’ll be busy tonight shooting a music video for his first EP. You’re so proud of him for finally releasing his own songs into the world, and you can’t wait for the album to be released. You wonder if this phone call is linked to this project of his.

You’re a little frustrated with it though, because so far, Ben has always refused to let you listen to any of the songs he’s written for the album. You don’t understand why. You’ve never been anything but supportive of this project, so why hide? Does he not trust you enough?

You give him a smile as you see him entering again the coffee shop where you’ve been drinking some tea and eating a delicious cheesecake. But your smile disappears when you read worry, almost panic even, written all over his face.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him as he sits down at your table once more.

He heaves a frustrated sigh.

“I was supposed to film a video tonight, you remember?”

“Of course, for your song.”

“Well, my cameraman… and the whole team, actually… are stuck somewhere in Ohio, and they won’t have time to come here before their next job on a movie. I don’t know how I’m going to film this…”

He runs a hand through his hair, and you reach across the table to hold his fingers in yours in a supportive gesture.

“Don’t you know anyone who could replace them here, in LA?” you ask him, trying to sound optimistic.

“No… No one who’s available, at least. Or not before a couple of months… I mean, if there isn’t any other solution, then I’ll have to wait. But I wanted to get all this filming done before I have to start working on another movie.”

He heaves another sigh, his gaze drifting away to settle on the busy street that hurries forward on the other side of the window.

“This was the acoustic version of the song, right? Like… not the big production one…” you ask him, thinking hard.

“Yeah, it’s just… we just need to get the piano up a hill, and then I perform the song on the piano and the video should be done in only one shot.”

“Do you know already what you want it to look like and where you want to do it?”

“Yes, of course, everything is planned.”

“Then… why can’t we do it?”

He frowns at you.

“What?”

“You and me! I’m not a professional, but didn’t you say that you wanted something personal for these acoustic videos? I can film you while you’re singing.”

“No. I mean… that’s very kind Y/N, but… that’s not a good idea.”

“Why not? I’m not stupid, if you show me how to use your camera, I can do it.”

“I’m not doubting your skills nor your intelligence. I just… look, it’s silly, I’ll just wait until I have another opportunity, that’s all.”

But he can see that you’re annoyed now. He doesn’t really get why though. He’s the one with a problem, not you.

“Never mind all that. What were we talking about again?”

But you lean forward, your forearms resting on the table, and by the look on your face, Ben already knows he’s not going to like the question you’re about to ask.

“Ben… can I ask you something? And I would really appreciate it if you gave me an earnest answer.”

“Of course. What is it?”

“Do you think us shooting this video together is a bad idea because you want a professional to do it, or because you don’t want me to listen to your songs?”

You see him clenching his jaw as he looks down at his cup of tea, and you don’t need to hear his answer.

“Why do you not want me to listen to your songs? I’m sure they’re amazing.”

But he shakes his head.

“I’m not ready for you to listen to them.”

“Why not? It’s just me…”

“I know, but… They’re… very personal and I… I don’t want you to listen to them for now. I’m not ready.”

You nod your head, clearly disappointed, but he’s grateful that you don’t insist.

“I’m sorry, but I have a few phone calls to make. Do you mind if we leave?” he asks after a rather long silence; one that is not as comfortable as it usually feels whenever it settles between the two of you.

“No, of course not. Let’s go.”

He apologizes again for hurrying home, and you don’t have the heart to insist on paying your share when he wants to invite you. He feels bad enough already, you reckon.

The drive to his flat is quiet, you can practically hear Ben’s brain working at full speed as he looks for a solution. When you arrive, you leave him alone and settle in the guest room with a book. He’s got work to do, it’s alright. You hesitate for a moment to go outside for a walk on your own, but you reckon that he might feel terrible if no one can help him, and he might need you here. So, instead, you stay inside and wait.

It's already the middle of the afternoon when Ben knocks on your door, and you invite him in.

“So? Did you find anyone to help?”

He shakes his head and sits down on the edge of your bed. You put away your book and sit up, cross-legged, next to him. He seems so disappointed, it breaks your hurt.

You rest a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“So… what are you going to do?”

“Well… no one is available before at least three months, and I’ll be working again in three months, which means that everything will be way more complicated. I don’t know… I just want to get all this over with while I have time to do this properly, without thinking about a role.”

“Of course, I get that.”

“So… I reckon I don’t really have a choice.”

He turns to you, and his voice is surprisingly shy when he speaks again.

“Do you mind if we do this together, then?”

You offer him a bright smile.

“Of course not! I would be happy to help. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

He wants to tell you then, why he hasn’t let you listen to his album yet. He wants to tell you everything, what his songs are truly about but… he doesn’t have the strength to do it. Maybe… maybe you won’t even notice if you listen to the song. There aren’t that many details… maybe you won’t understand…

So, he says nothing, merely gives you a smile, and opens his arms to give you hug.

“Thank you, Y/N. You’re the best.”

You grin, rushing into his embrace; and as he closes his arms upon you, he holds you a little too tight.

You’re tired after carrying all this equipment all the way up this hill, but you regret nothing. The spot Ben has chosen for this video is breathtaking. You admire it while he finishes to set everything up behind you.

The sun has started to set, sinking behind the hill on the other side of the valley. LA stretches at your feet while the sky begins to be painted in gold. It’s quiet, surprisingly so. No cars, no voices, no shouts. Just the wind and the random interruption of a bird chirping.

“This place is amazing, Ben,” you grin, your eyes still lost on the beautiful view.

You hear him chuckling behind you.

“Yeah, it’s one of my favourite spots. It’s quiet up here. And the view isn’t too bad.”

Eventually, you shake yourself out of your reverie, and turn towards Ben again.

“So, what do you want me to do?”

He explains to you the shots he wants, where you should walk to get them. He shows you how to use his very expensive camera, and after a few tries, you know enough to shoot the short video. You help Ben setting up his computer and his microphone, using a pile of your own books so the microphone is positioned right before Ben’s lips. He tries a few times to record his voice, then the piano, and seems quickly satisfied.

He's nervous, you can tell.

“I reckon we can get several takes before it’s too dark to film. What do you think?” you ask him, trying to reassure him.

He nods, giving you a warm smile.

“Yeah… I’d say we have about forty minutes.”

“So, you can fuck up ten times at least before we give up for tonight. You’ll be just fine.”

He laughs at that, and he’s grateful for it. He knows you’re trying to help him calm down. You’re simply not aware that he’s not stressed about the sun setting too fast at all, or about messing up the song. He’s worried about the fact that you’re going to listen to him…

You get ready, and give him a thumbs up as well as a bright grin.

“Whenever you’re ready, superstar!”

He chuckles at your teasing, shakes his head a little. He takes a couple of deep breaths, plays a few notes to get ready. But then, he starts recording, and playing…

He doesn’t look at you as his fingers travel across the piano, as he starts to sing in a quiet, gentle tone. Voice deep and warm and reassuring, as always. He tries to ignore your presence, to forget that you’re standing there, a few feet away, that you’re listening to him sing this song about… about you…

But he can’t. How could he? How could he act as if the woman he wrote this song about is not standing right in front of him, listening to the deepest secrets of his heart?

But then again, maybe it’s for the better. Because now more than ever, after spending a whole week living with you, it hurts too much to be merely your friend. He doesn’t want to be your friend. He reckons that there wasn’t a minute in the nineteen years you’ve known each other when he wanted to be anything but your boyfriend.

But then again, life works almost haphazardly sometimes, and if he believed in signs, then perhaps he could have believed that you, being there to listen to his song now, was a sign. A sign that things have to change, and he hopes they will change for the better…

His voice is shakier than he wants it to be. He can hear, after the second line, that he’s going to struggle to go through the whole song without being too emotional. He’s not even certain he’ll be able to sing the complete song. But he doesn’t care. Now, that he has started to confess it all, he needs to let it all out.

Meanwhile, you start moving with the camera, and at first, you’re focused on your task, trying not to shake too much. But then… you’re also listening to the song. And if a smile appears on your features at the beginning, it quickly fades. Your movements slow down as Ben sings the first verse…

Because… because it sounds very strange… The story he tells, it’s strangely familiar.

Is it late?

Eleven minutes past eleven

It’s both always and never our time

Nothing to regret

The rest just might be heaven

You’re always but never really mine

You’re the one who told him about this silly wish to make at 11:11. And your paths keep on crossing but you’re never really together and…

But no, no… it’s just your head and your silly heart imagining things. No, it’s nothing like that. He must be talking about somebody else, or maybe he’s not even talking about anyone at all. Maybe he just made up a love song from nothing.

But then… why does he seem so upset as he keeps on singing, his voice trembling through the chorus, his eyes still closed.

You stopped my heart from fifty feet

It pumped and sang and skipped a beat

And when I sleep my soul you’ll keep

I wish for you to be happy

I wish for you to be free

I wish for you to be fearless

That’s wishes one, two and three

But then, if this is not about you then… why these echoes to your past? You recognize the words he spoke to you so long ago; it’s easy for you, they are engraved into your brain at this point. How could you ever forget them? He’s putting them elegantly, into verses, but these are the same words he told you that rainy afternoon in your dorm, and in London too…

You’ve stopped moving altogether, and you stare at him now, forgetting all about your duties with this stupid camera…

And I won’t wish to be yours

Or for you to be mine

But I’ll wish them all for you

Every time

He feels your stare upon him, and he knows that you’re standing still now, frozen. He can see you, even with his eyes down. He has lifted his eyelids, he looks at his hands, or at least he tries to, because he wants so badly to look at you… But he resists. If he does, he won’t be able to sing the end of the song, and he knows it.

Is it warm?

Clouds but the sun’s in the sky

Rises over mine but sets with you

When it’s dark I’ll try not to ask you why

Or what you’ll do

You stopped my heart from fifty feet

It pumped and sang and skipped a beat

And when I sleep my soul you’ll keep

I wish for you to be happy

I wish for you to be free

I wish for you to be fearless

That’s wishes one, two and three

And I won’t wish to be yours

Or for you to be mine

But I’ll wish them all for you

Every time

He can’t take it, the way you stare at him. At last, he looks up. And his hands freeze on the keyboard, right in between two notes, and his voice disappears from his tightening throat.

You’re staring so intensely at him…

You know. You’ve understood everything. It’s too late now…

… damn, he’s fucked up again.

But slowly, very slowly… you start shaking your head.

“Don’t stop,” you let out a shaky breath, he barely hears you at all. “Please, don’t stop. Keep going.”

“Y/N…”

“Please, finish the song. Please, Ben…”

He nods, struggling to swallow back the lump in his throat. He takes a deep breath, plays again the last notes of the chorus to get some momentum, and he resumes his singing, his voice a little hoarse as he tries not to cry.

If one day the stars align

You feel ready to be mine

I hope you’ll find the strength to come

With trumpet, pipes and drum

You stopped my heart from fifty feet

It pumped and sang and skipped a beat

And when I sleep my soul you’ll keep

He can’t look away anymore. He just can’t. He struggles a little to play when he’s so emotional, and staring at you, and busy being terrified of what your reaction will be once he has stopped singing… But it’s alright. His voice is rough with emotion, a little shaky, but you don’t seem to mind. You just stare at him, with more and more tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t let any teardrop fall. Instead, you’re suspended to his words.

And his voice finishes to break with the next two verses…

And I won’t wish to be yours

Or for you to be mine

He gives you a smile, filled with tenderness and sadness and withheld pain. It takes him a couple of seconds to be able to let out any sound, but you’re patient, and you wait for him to finish his song.

But I’ll wish them all for you

Every time

Yes, I’ll wish them all for you

Every time

Oh, I’ll wish them all for you

Every time

Silence. After his piano and his voice filling up the air, it feels strange to hear nothing at all. Solely distant sounds of wind and birds.

And you don’t say a thing. Instead, you put the camera down right next to the piano, and you walk around the instrument to sit next to Ben. He doesn’t look at you anymore, he doesn’t move. He can barely breathe at all. He’s terrified that if he does so, you’ll run away and disappear for good.

So, he tries to remain motionless instead. Maybe then, even time could stop…

“Your song… it’s about us, isn’t it?” you ask him, your voice a little hoarse but surprisingly steady considering how your heart is pounding, how much your throat has tightened, how hard it is to withhold your tears… “It’s about me, right?”

He doesn’t have the strength to speak, so he nods instead. He looks almost guilty.

“I see… That’s why you didn’t want me to listen to it.”

It’s more of a statement than a question, but Ben nods anyway.

He clears his throat, tries to find his voice back.

“You… are you mad at me?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“Because… I wrote a song about you and… because… because it says pretty clearly how I feel about you. And I’m not sure you like the way I feel about you.”

Finally, he turns to you. His eyes are completely black, his face bathed in golden light. The small pendant that falls on his chest catches some sunlight as he moves and it flashes like gold in the summer sun.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“For what?”

“Everything, really. But especially because… Now, I don’t reckon we’ll be able to remain friends.”

“No… no, I guess you’re right. We can’t stay friends.”

He nods, and even if he quickly brushes it away, you see the tear that starts rolling down his cheek. He sniffs, looking away again.

“Right…”

“I’m moving to LA.”

He stares at you again, his lips parting in shock. You just… you’ve just blurted that out, out of the blue and… What…?

“What?”

“I… I had an interview yesterday for a job in a small newspaper in California. For a very small town, about half an hour away from LA. I got the job. I got the answer this morning and… I knew you were stressed because of this music video, so I wanted to wait this weekend to tell you. But I… I’m moving to LA. I start next month.”

“But… what about London? What about your job there, and your family, and your friends, you… you were happy there… I thought it was what you wanted.”

“It was. For a long time, it really was. But then again… do you remember the conversation we had that night, when I was drunk? I mean… of course you do, you talk about it in your song… Anyway, that night, I told you we had to prioritize things that are the most important to us. And I’m tired of not prioritizing you. So…”

“This is more than prioritizing though…”

“No, it isn’t. When we were younger, I chose my career instead of you. And I can’t say that I regret it because I had no idea about who I was and what I wanted to do with my life. And I needed to go to Dublin, and to move to London again… I needed that. But I’m not twenty-three anymore. And I’ve figured things out. And you’re not twenty-four anymore with too many dreams and a career to build, you already have one now. So… maybe… maybe we could force our lives not to drift apart this time. What do you say?”

But instead of answering, he merely crashes his lips to yours, hands flying up to hold your face, and you melt against him as he kisses you with all the love and passion he’s been holding back for years. You hold him tight when you finally detach your lips from his.

“I love you,” he breathes against your ear. “I’ve always loved you. Even when we were apart, even during this decade when I had no news… I never got over you. It was always you. Ever since that afternoon at the cinema watching my favourite rom-com when you let me kiss you in the dark… it has always been you.”

You can’t stop your tears anymore, but it’s okay. They’re happy ones.

“I love you too,” you whisper against the skin of his neck. “I’ve never stopped loving you either.”

“I’ll make it work. I promise, I’ll make it work.”

“Well, don’t expect me to do all the work!” you joke despite your voice being wet with tears. “I expect daily videocalls whenever you’re away. And an awful lot of cuddles when you come back. And you’ll pay for my tickets so I can come see you, because journalist really doesn’t pay that well when you work for small, unknown newspapers…”

He laughs, tightening his hold on you, if it is even possible to do so.

“Deal. That’s a deal.”

“I don’t want to hide this…”

“You’ll hate it if you’re pulled in the public eye with me.”

“I don’t care. I didn’t wait sixteen bloody years to be your secret lover. Fuck off!”

You both laugh, and he nods his head.

“Alright, whatever you want. As long as you can be mine, we’ll do whatever you want.”

“I thought you wouldn’t wish to be mine or for me to be yours…” you tease, making him chuckle.

“Well… that was before I knew you were still madly in love with me.”

“Madly? Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“You’re moving to the other side of the world to be with me, I reckon that’s something only someone madly in love would do.”

“You might have a point.”

“I won’t let you go this time. I promise. I won’t lose you again, darling.”

You pull away just enough to look at him.

“Good. Cause I don’t want to leave ever again, love.”

You exchange a grin, before exchanging kisses…

And when you finally stand up and pack your things, the sun is long gone, and it’s almost fully night already. You’ll have to come back tomorrow to film this music video of his, but you don’t care.

You’ve got the rest of your lives left, after all…