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bitterie-sweetie · 9 months ago

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Fake it til you make it

Pairing: Jeonghan x reader Genre: fluff, fake dating WC: 6.5k Warnings: alcohol A/N: yes it's about vday buuut it's actually for @syuperseventeen's bdayyy!!! surprise surprise! happy birthday nat, i hope this year is even better and filled with many things to look forward to <3

Your Valentine’s date with Jeonghan is coming up and yet the only thing on your mind is how to break up with him. Of course breaking up with someone is difficult, but you’d argue that what’s more difficult is breaking up with someone you never even dated.

Jeonghan is a prankster.

Growing up, you’d often be on the receiving end of his pranks at school. Third grade “initiation” had you drenched in water after he told you to pin a cup against the wall with a straw, and in ninth grade you had tears streaming down your face after eating an entire scoop of wasabi—not the matcha ice cream he said it was. Then there was the time he did something to make your first crush hate you, which, in hindsight, was a good thing because the guy turned out to be a total asshole.

It wasn’t Jeonghan’s fault entirely when you were too willing to fall for his pranks because being the target of a prank meant having his attention, and that’s something that you wanted. Jeonghan had a way of making everyone feel special, and his attention was a limelight that you never wanted to step out of.

Honestly, you might’ve kept up with it if he kept going. But then that fateful day came and it was like you were suddenly on his side, working with him instead of being the victim to his antics, and you’d say that that’s what has kept the two of you together after all these years.

Well, at least until now.

“Hey,” you greet in a rush, looking around the table at everyone and seeing that you’re truly the last one to arrive. Usually, you’d give that place to Lee Chan; he’s the most popular of your friend group and almost always has a prior appointment to your meetups. “Sorry I’m late. My train was delayed and—oh, did you already order for me?”

Jeonghan slides a sealed bubble tea across the table and sets it in front of your seat—the one empty chair right beside him, no less. When you glance at him questioningly he shrugs and tilts his head towards the crowd at the front. “The line was too long so I ordered yours with mine. Hope you’re feeling like your usual today.”

Indeed, the sticker on the cup shows that it’s your go-to order. “Aw, that’s so sweet of you. Thanks, babe.”

Today’s meet up with your friend group is the first of the year and it’s also the first time you’re seeing everyone since Chan’s wedding… including Jeonghan. You would’ve spent Christmas and New Year’s with him had he not cancelled on you, and now that bit of distance has manifested into a larger uncertainty for you over the past while. Even now, the ‘babe’ seemed to come out awkwardly, sticking to your throat.

“Wow, you guys are actually disgusting. I hope you know that.” Seungkwan makes a face at you, and beside him, Soonyoung nods a few times in agreement.

You plaster on a smile. “It’s okay to just say you’re jealous.”

The only response you get is an eye-roll from Soonyoung, and then everyone moves on, thankfully. Mingyu asks you what you’ve been up to so you talk about your recent promotion at work and some new habits you’ve started in the new year, and when you sense that the conversation is starting to approach the territory of your future with Jeonghan, you gently steer it towards Chan. After all, he’s the one that got married just a few months ago, and you know he would never miss the chance to talk about his amazing honeymoon and how great this new chapter of his life is going.

There is truly nothing like adult friendships and its quarterly updates.

Once there’s a bit of a lull in the conversation, Jeonghan turns to you. “What are you doing this week?”

“Oh, this week?” Your heart speeds up tenfold at the uncertainty of what might come next. “Hmm well, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah, exactly.” He nods and much to your relief, there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. “So I’ll see you for our date then?”

“Of course, babe.”

“Can’t you guys do this somewhere else?” Soonyoung says as he stares daggers in your direction. You totally understand and sympathize with that though; today you’re turning up the sweetness more than usual to compensate for the distance you actually feel, unfortunately at the expense of your friends.

Jeonghan completely ignores Soonyoung’s complaint and doesn’t even look his way. “That’s good,” he says, leaning back in his seat and almost looking relieved at your answer. “I was afraid my darling might not have time for me anymore.”

“What? No way. Did you have anything in mind for our date?”

“Hmm, yes but it’s a surprise. I’ll text you the details later.”

“Well, uh, I have to run,” Chan says, slowly getting up from his seat. The rest of you hardly bat an eye, having gotten too used to his busy schedule. “It was nice seeing everyone. You guys should come over for my housewarming once everything is set up.”

Mingyu stands up too. “Oh, I actually have to go too; got a dinner with Wonwoo later.”

…On second thought, perhaps you overcompensated a bit too much with the cringe. Soonyoung and Seungkwan leave soon after getting a call from their roommate, Seokmin, and then it’s just you and Jeonghan at the table. Still seated side by side, your arm occasionally brushing against his.

“How have you really been?” he asks in a low voice.

“Decent, I guess, despite the winter blues and all. It’s pretty much what I said earlier.” You shrug when he remains silent. “Why do you ask? Do I look depressed or something?”

“No,” he shakes his head with a laugh, “not depressed, exactly, but I wanted to see if you’re as sad as I am about not seeing each other in so long.” Then he leans in a bit closer, as if to whisper a secret. “I missed you, darling.”

It’s times like this when you feel like he’s toeing the line. There’s a small smile lingering on his lips and a softer look in his eyes, not at all like the overdone sweetness to the point of sarcasm from before, but you can never tell if he really means what he says or if this is just part of the act.

Regardless, it makes your face feel hot and it makes you unable to look directly at him.

“Oh… yeah,” you say, trying to make a quick recovery. “It’s too bad we missed out on the holidays but at least we get Valentine’s Day.”

“Yup, that’s exactly why I have something special in mind for that day. I want to make it up to you, darling.”

You give him a smile and then go to take a sip of your drink, and that’s pretty much the end of the conversation. Despite saying he misses you, it’s interesting how he doesn’t explain why he bailed on the holidays in the first place, and you don’t know whether you should ask about it at this point.

Or if you should even be curious about such a thing.

Jeonghan pulls you out of your thoughts with a brush of his hand on yours. “It’s getting dark. Let’s head out?”

You agree and then let him hold your hand, lace his fingers with yours, and then lead you out of the shop. He doesn’t let go until you cross the parking lot and get to his car. It’s strange, you think. You can’t seem to recall the last time the two of you held hands so naturally like this especially when there’s no one else around.

In fact, when the two of you are alone, the sickening sweetness is always toned down but not completely dropped. Now, Jeonghan’s smiles are softer around the edges like they’re less exaggerated, less of a performance, and when he calls you darling, his voice is quieter and isn’t at all coated in the sticky honey you’re used to. When he hugs you goodbye at your door, it’s a loose hug and almost has a degree of uncertainty.

Jeonghan steps back but lingers just for a second. “I’ll see you in a few days for our date, darling.”

“Of course,” you put on a smile, “I can’t wait, babe.”

He waits until you get into your building before giving a little wave and then heading on his way.

After you close the door behind you and collapse onto your bed, you heave a sigh and finally let the smile slip from your lips. So there would be a Valentine’s date this year after all; the anticipation makes your heart speed up the slightest but at the same time makes you all the more anxious. You thought that he really would end things today, and if not, that you should be the one to do so. But seeing him after so long, feeling the way the warmth of his touch lingers on your skin, basking in the brightness of his smiles, you simply couldn’t utter those words.

Perhaps Valentine’s Day wouldn’t be the right time to do it either, or maybe your date won’t end up happening for whatever reason. You know that this is something you have to do, but the question is how exactly would you go about doing it? Because there is one major problem.

You’re not dating Jeonghan at all.

One moment in high school is what started this whole thing.

It was eleventh grade drama class—which Jeonghan thought would be fun to take as an elective—that resulted in the two of you being cast in the school play. Although neither of you landed a role that was remotely close to important, Jeonghan decided to have fun with it and improvise during your one minute of screen time and that somehow turned your insignificant cameos into a beautiful romance that had the audience rooting for you.

And that very moment somehow managed to embed itself so deeply in your relationship with Jeonghan that it became a long running joke to this day.

Today you’re sitting across from Soonyoung and Seungkwan again, with Mingyu beside you this time. Almost an exact replica of last week’s meetup, but Chan already has plans and Jeonghan is very obviously missing—something Soonyoung points out immediately.

“Wow, no Jeonghan today?” he says loudly even before the hostess is out of earshot. The people at the two tables nearby glance in your direction and you start to regret coming here at all. “We really won this one. Y/N, we should do this more often.”

You definitely should not. “Um, yeah. Totally.”

Last week’s meeting with your friends is what gave you the idea to consult with them about your situation. You first suggested the idea to Mingyu, and then used the prospect of free food to get Soonyoung and Seungkwan to come out, and naturally, Chan is busy so it ends up being the four of you at brunch. Which is better on your wallet, you think. You get the feeling that this quarterly meetup can totally happen more often if you were to make this offer every time.

As for what you’re about to ask… well, truthfully, you still don’t know if you should even do it. You’ve gone so many years without saying a word that it’d simply be odd to ask now, plus you would run the risk of making everything weird. But if you don’t do it, you would only end up making it weird anyway because how much longer can you go on pretending?

Besides, it’s not only you and Jeonghan who are prolonging this inside joke for way longer than it should’ve lasted. All of your friends should be in on it if they treat the two of you like a couple too.

The waiter comes by to take your orders, and you try not to wince at the entire list that comes out of Soonyoung and Seungkwan’s mouths. Mingyu gets the least, seemingly knowing that something is up if the worried glances he throws your way is anything to go by.

Once the waiter leaves, that’s when the small talk stops and all eyes turn to you.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Soonyoung asks with a goofy grin. “Since Jeonghan’s not here, does that mean you need help with Valentine’s Day plans or something?”

Beside him, Seungkwan has the complete opposite expression as he eyes you warily between sips of his americano.

You take a huge swig of water like it’s liquid courage, and then go for it. “This is going to sound weird…” you start, trying not to notice the way Seungkwan tenses up as if bracing for your words, “but I wanted to ask you guys what my relationship with Jeonghan is.”

Silence. Complete, dead silence.

Soonyoung freezes like he’s in a photograph while Seungkwan’s hand holding his americano hangs in mid air as a drop of the drink dribbles down the side of his lip.

“Sorry, what?” It’s Soonyoung who recovers first. “I think I heard that wrong.”

You shake your head. “Just tell me.”

“You’re asking us what your relationship with your own boyfriend is?”

“Boyfriend—exactly!” You have to hold back all the thoughts you have on the topic. “Yeah, that’s what I mean. So you think he’s my boyfriend? That we’re dating?”

Soonyoung frowns but it’s Seungkwan who answers, exasperated. “Y/N, what are you trying to say here? Are you trying to say you guys broke up? Or do you think we don’t know you well enough and this is a test? Can you say whatever it is directly—”

“Jeonghan and I aren’t together.”

There, you said it. Your biggest secret is out.

It should make you relieved to finally let out the secret you’ve been harbouring for years or it should at least alleviate some of the weight on your chest, but it doesn’t. The silence in the wake of your confession only closes in on you and makes it all the more suffocating.

“Any—anymore?”

“No. We were never together.”

The bit of silence from earlier repeats itself. Maybe you should become a speaker or presenter with your ability to draw such reactions from a crowd.

Seungkwan noisily sets down his drink and then leans forward with a frown. He’s still in denial, that much is obvious, and he narrows his eyes as he asks, “Is this a joke? A hidden camera? Are you trying to prank us like Jeonghan—”

“No, I’m completely serious. It’s really not what it seems, and this is why I’m asking you guys what you see us as because at this point I don’t even know the answer myself.”

With a deep breath, you tell them the truth about this entire thing.

You tell them about the high school play and your impromptu acting, and how that led for the two of you to become the famous couple at school afterwards. Sure, it might’ve been a good thing because that meant your acting was believable. But to two people who were interested in just about anything except love at that age, it was annoying and gross.

After the show when the shippers wouldn’t stop, the two of you decided to do what you do best—pull a prank. You spent that Valentine’s Day together as a joke and acted extra disgusting to mock couples while making fun of how stupid people were to believe whatever you showed them. In twelfth grade, the two of you did the same for Valentine’s Day and then even went to prom together as a joke.

In recent years, however, the annual joke of a Valentine’s Day date has turned into his Christmas and your Lunar New Year, his cousin’s graduation, your coworker’s housewarming, and Lee Chan’s wedding. It’s made you on a texting basis with his sister and it’s made him familiar with all your favourite food spots and go-to orders. It’s turned him into someone who’s simultaneously as distant as an acquaintance yet closer than a best friend.

And so, here you are, living an entire lie because you and Jeonghan had the whole world fooled.

“That’s insane,” Soonyoung says when you finally finish the story, unable to look your way and instead, stares into his drink with how mind blown he is.

Seungkwan, on the other hand, remains a bit skeptical. “Okay, but then what was with all that PDA?All the kissing? Is this some sort of situationship?”

“Oh, um.” Immediately you can feel your cheeks heating up. You didn’t think this far at all but now it seems like the entire truth will have to come out. “All of it was fake. We’ve… never actually kissed.”

That drama class has taught you more than you needed to know about manipulating angles and the audience’s perception, and Jeonghan is very good at it. Your fake kisses were often just a trick of the angle or occasionally using the thumb trick, and having seen the evidence captured in photos over the years, you know how convincing it can look.

Now, it’s embarrassing to admit for reasons you never would’ve imagined. Admitting to pulling a childish prank like this is one thing, but the realization that you and Jeonghan have faked it for so long without ever once making it real has you feeling almost dejected.

“I always knew Jeonghan was crazy but I didn’t know he’d be *this* crazy.” Soonyoung now has his head in his hands and is staring off into space. “This is the most insane story I’ve ever heard. I’m not sure if I should be happy for you or sad.”

You give a wry smile. “Yeah, well, I get why you would think we were together though. You met us in college and wouldn’t have known about what happened in the past so I guess there would never be a reason to question it.”

Beside you, Mingyu clears his throat and you turn to look at him. He’s been so quiet throughout your story that you were too busy focusing on the reactions of the other two, but looking at him now, his reaction is entirely different. Mingyu isn’t as surprised as he is concerned. “Actually, Y/N, a few years ago…” he says hesitantly, “there was a time when I asked him if you were actually dating.”

“You did? What did he say?”

“He didn’t deny it.”

“Well, we all know how he loves to be ambiguous and leave things a mystery.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “No—see, that’s what I thought too, but it was different that time. At first he didn’t deny it, but when I pushed a bit more, he said that you’re dating. In actual words and with the most serious look I’ve ever seen on his face.”

This is news to you. You always assumed that they were all in on the joke and would’ve never guessed that anyone actually asked Jeonghan, but the fact that he answered that way is all the more baffling.

“I don’t get it. Why would he tell you that?”

“Yeah, so,” Soonyoung says, “from then on we all thought that was fully confirmed, and he never said or implied otherwise.”

“Right…”

Mingyu nudges you gently. “Y/N, are you telling us about this now because you’re planning on stopping the act? Has it been bothering you? Or did something happen?”

“Is that why you wanted to tell us today?” Soonyoung lets out a dramatic gasp and leans all the back in his chair, hands over his mouth. “Don’t tell me—are you going to stop the act because you have a crush on someone?”

“What? No, definitely not. It’s not that, it’s—”

Here’s the next part of your big secret being revealed, something you weren’t entirely ready for but you tell yourself that this needs to happen.

It’s because of your feelings for Jeonghan. Your very real, very genuine feelings that have nothing to do with this prank.

Truthfully, you can’t pinpoint when you started feeling this way, much like you’re not sure how this joke was able to stick around for so long. It could be the most recent development—when your friend tried to convince you to hop on a dating app, all you could think about was how wrong it felt because you already had Jeonghan. Or maybe it was the Valentine’s Day just before college graduation when he leaned in so closely you thought he was going to kiss you, for real this time, and then only realizing much later that you were disappointed that it wasn’t real.

Or perhaps it started way back, to the time he asked you to prom—he said he didn’t have a date only for you to later find out he’d already rejected two promposals from other people. All for your fake relationship, supposedly.

And now, for you, what has started as a harmless prank has turned into something much more than that over the years.

Everyone looks like they're at a loss for words after that part, and even Soonyoung has lost his enthusiasm after hearing it. “Shit, that’s…” he starts. “Okay, yeah, I’m definitely sad for you.”

Seungkwan and Mingyu have similar sentiments but you wave them off, eager to lighten the mood again after such heavy topics. The food on the table has been long finished and you’re beginning to feel like you’re overstaying your welcome when there’s a crowd waiting at the front of the restaurant. “It’s fine, it’s whatever. I just wanted to get this off my chest today so that I can figure things out before I see him in a few days.”

A while later, you finish paying and then all head out together.

The conversation continues to replay itself in your head, and you realize there is one thing you’re curious about. You turn to Mingyu. “By the way—Mingyu, why *did* you ask Jeonghan if we were actually dating?”

Mingyu stops mid-stride and freezes like a deer in headlights, clearly not expecting your question at all. “I—um, I was asking for a friend.”

“A friend?”

“Yeah, Chan.” He nods a few times in a row. “I thought Chan had a crush on you and I was trying to help him out.”

Strange, seeing as you’ve probably interacted with Chan the least among your friend group. He’s simply too booked and busy to hang out with you, and has been all throughout your college years together.

Oh, and he’s married.

“Like, before he met his wife?” you ask.

Soonyoung starts to cough furiously from where he is a few steps ahead while Mingyu’s cheeks redden the slightest bit.

You vaguely remember the first time the two of you did this, and how it wasn’t anything like how it’s going now.

Tonight is the night you’re supposed to go on your date with Jeonghan, and you’ve been buzzing with nerves since the night before. You have no idea what to expect for tonight since all he told you about it was to show up at his apartment, and that in itself was slightly concerning as you’ve never been to his home before nor has he been so secretive about any plans. Usually the two of you would be going to a casual place or would have the schedule shared ahead of time if it was a more formal event that needed preparation.

Jeonghan buzzes you in when you arrive and before you can say you’ll wait for him in the lobby, he tells you to go up to his unit. Again, a bit strange. You do as he asks though, and then even go to knock on the door when there’s no sign of him coming out.

When he opens the door and steps aside, that’s when everything clicks—you’re not here so that he can get his car and take you to your date location. This *is* the date location.

Beyond the doorway, you can see that his apartment is completely decorated. Rose petals line the sides of the hall and lead to the dining table, covered in a deep red tablecloth and perfectly set for your meal. Beside it, a large bouquet of roses rests at the center of the sideboard surrounded by a row of flickering candles which light up the space.

Even without knowing what his home normally looks like, it’s obvious that all this would’ve taken a lot of effort to set up.

“Jeonghan, why did you prepare all this?”

He gives you a dazzling smile. “Because my darling deserves the best, of course. I told you I was going to make it up to you for cancelling Christmas.”

“Babe, that’s too sweet of you. You really didn’t have to.” You try to return his smile but it doesn’t come easy when this whole situation is overwhelming. Then you let him take your coat and then guide you to the dining table where everything is set up.

Only when you’re seated do you realize that his response doesn’t answer your question at all.

The scent of the roses fill the room and looking at them gives you a pang in your heart. This is what the two of you used to make fun of—these big, romantic gestures, and the couples that willingly eat them up. Now it’s as if the tables have turned and you don’t know what to think.

If this were in public, in front of your friends or other people, you would’ve said that it was another funny gesture that Jeonghan put up for the sake of making them cringe. Because the two of you were the perfect joking, prankster couple, right?

Now that it’s just you and him here, it confuses you as to why he’s going to such lengths for a joke when it’s something that no one else would see, when there’s no audience to watch his performance.

You watch as Jeonghan busies himself in the kitchen, serving the food that he’s prepared and pouring the wine into glasses while glancing your way every once in a while. He looks pleased, you note, and he should be if he got his space to look this beautiful. But you can sense that there’s something else too, almost like a nervousness that sits on his shoulder every time he breezes past you and makes eye contact for the briefest second.

After everything is ready, he finally takes a seat across from you and the dinner begins.

Making small talk is easy at first; you comment on your surprise at this type of date, talk about how cold it’s been lately and how it sucks that your company is forcing you to go back into the office. You ask him how his holiday went and how his family has been, and mention how cute his sister’s new puppy is after seeing a post about it on her social media.

You know you’re just delaying the inevitable. Somehow you get the feeling he knows it too, judging by the way his answers are shorter than usual and how your conversation feels so superficial. So this time after there’s a lull in the conversation, you decide to go for it.

"Jeonghan, um…"

"Hmm?" He looks at you and waits for you to continue, but you don't. Or rather, you can't. "Ah, you're going to comment on how good this is, right?" he says instead, as if supplying you with a way out.

You're all too eager to grab onto it. "Wow, you read my mind." An enthusiastic nod, a slight look of surprise. "It's amazing. Did you make all this yourself?"

Jeonghan shakes his head and then follows up with a sheepish smile. "Partly. The rest is store bought."

Another nod, and then it just ends there again. Seated in this spot with the soft lighting of flickering candles cast against the wall and the heat of Jeonghan's gaze on you, the feeling of discomfort only grows. It's hard to remember what the two of you were like before, during the days when everything seemed so silly–when each move was a clearly defined act between two actors and the world was your stage. And most importantly, when each smile he showed you didn't send your stomach into somersaults or your mind into a loop of second guessing.

The air is so heavy and stifling that you grab your glass and down a large gulp of the wine. At least when you're drinking, you wouldn’t have to speak, whether that might be responding to him in a way that gives away all of your thoughts, or completely spilling them out yourself. Maybe the alcohol will also drown out some of your anxieties and–

"Hey, slow down." Jeonghan glances at you with worry. "We have all night."

You set the glass down, albeit a bit reluctantly. "Right, sorry. This wine is just so good."

Yet another lie, but what's one more at this point? The wine is much too sour and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You would've much preferred a soda or bubble tea, and drinking something fancy like this during such a fancy occasion makes you feel like you're pretending to be someone you're not.

Which is exactly what you're doing, isn't it? You've been living a lie this entire time.

You briefly wonder if Jeonghan feels the same way—the two of you have never properly spent time alone in complete privacy, and to have your first time be in such a formal atmosphere must feel strange. But if he's uncomfortable, he makes no sign of showing it. Or maybe he's always been the better actor of the two of you.

“You know, since you mentioned seasonal depression, I was thinking that for Christmas this year we should go somewhere. Somewhere warm and sunny to get away from the cold.”

“Oh, this year?” you repeat stupidly when you can’t quite believe what you’re hearing. Jeonghan wants to continue this thing? And here you were, thinking that he was about to end it at any moment for the past few months. “Um, yeah. That would be nice.”

“Or it could be a fall trip. Your parents have been wanting to go see the leaves change colour, right?”

There’s no hint of sarcasm on his face and no playful twinkle in his eye, and even though no one can read him very well, you know enough to tell that he’s being serious. You also know that what he’s saying makes no sense at all.

“Right, yeah. They’ve been wanting to do that.”

“Y/N, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply automatically, and then reach for another long gulp of your drink. “Yup, all good.”

Jeonghan frowns, a tiny crease appearing between his brows. “Are you sure? If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.”

It’s strange, the way he looks at you. Jeonghan, who dances around questions and deflects easily with humour and only shows people what he wants them to see, now has worry filling his eyes as he waits for you to continue. As if he *knows*.

You doubt Soonyoung and Seungkwan would have spilled your secret so easily, but there’s a great possibility that the two of them would be unable to act normal around him after what they learned, and unintentionally hint at the truth. Then there’s the other possibility that Jeonghan knew way before any of this. Because maybe he—

No, you don’t want to think about that.

“It’s just that,” you say, having to force yourself to pause and slow down your thoughts before something terrible comes spewing out. A slow inhale, a shaky exhale. “Why are we here, Jeonghan?”

His frown deepens, but now it’s turned into confusion. “What do you mean?”

“What are we doing? This date has been nice, but I’m just very confused over why you put so much effort into this when there’s no one else around to see it. Weren’t we doing all of this as a joke? As a prank? Pretending to be a couple so that we can fool the world since that’s exactly what they wanted to see, but joke’s on them because we’re not?”

Jeonghan watches you silently with an unreadable look on his face. “Is that how you feel?”

“’Well, yes, because isn’t that the truth? And now, we’ve been doing so much together that it doesn’t feel like a joke anymore. How can it be when your mom is offering to give me homemade side dishes? Or—or when Chan’s wife was there, smiling at us on her wedding day like she wished we’d be just as happy as they are?” You pause to look at him and then proceed to look away. “How long are we going to continue lying to the world? Because I can’t stand the guilt.”

The last part of that may be true, but it’s not the full truth.

“Yeah, you’re right. We don’t have to keep doing this.”

“W—what?” You stare at him, dumbfounded.

Jeonghan sighs deeply and then meets your eyes, but then quickly looks away. “Yeah, we should’ve left this in high school. The joke has kind of gotten old, hasn’t it?”

You have no idea what he means by any of that, but it feels like you’re better off not knowing. The tension in the air is thick, and even when you imagined your fake breakup hundreds of times in your head, this is not something you could have predicted. It’s as you’re on a precipice, and one wrong move will delete all those years, all that time you spent with him.

And the worst part is that you don’t even want to break up.

“Jeonghan, look. I know all of this is supposed to be a joke, but why is it that it feels like you really do care?” One last deep breath before you make the jump. “And why is it that I *want* you to care?”

That has him stunned for a second, so much that the expression is obvious on his face in a way that almost never happens.

“Wait, what? I do care. No, I get that we started all this for fun back then, but that’s not how I feel about it now. Everything we’ve done is real—trust me, I wouldn’t have brought you to my family if that wasn’t the case. And I never thought I was lying to them. It’s exaggerated, yes, and much too dramatic, but I’m not a good enough actor where all that can be based on a complete lie.”

You braced yourself for the final blow, only to be completely confused over his words. “What are you saying?”

“Y/N, it’s always been real to me. All of it.”

“But—but I thought you wanted to stop all this when you cancelled our plans for Christmas. Why did you do that?”

Jeonghan opens his mouth a little but then closes it again. “Do you remember last year at Chan’s wedding when you caught the bouquet?”

You nod but don’t hide your confusion about where this is going.

“After you caught it, everyone was looking at you… and then at me. It was like they all expected us to be next, because well,” he shrugs, “everyone thought we were together. And that’s when I realized that this is more than simply feeling like it’s real. We were turning it into something real.”

“So you called off Christmas because you wanted to stop doing this? Because you hated how it was becoming real?”

“No,” Jeonghan shakes his head. “The opposite. I was afraid of how much I liked that it felt real. That day at the wedding, I—I wanted to kiss you for real, Y/N. Not have to fake it.”

“Oh…”

“If we did meet up for Christmas, I don’t know what might’ve happened. I thought it was safer to stay away for a bit and gather my thoughts.” He hesitates slightly and you can see the pained smile he has on. “But one day into the holidays and I was already regretting my decision.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Your mind is hardly listening anymore when it keeps on repeating Jeonghan’s words like a broken record, screaming to you that it’s real, that all of it is real. That you’re not the only one who’s been feeling this way, and that you won’t need to stage a fake breakup for your fake relationship.

“Are you okay?” he asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I’m just—are you sure all this is real? Jeonghan, are you being serious?”

He breaks into a tender smile. “Don’t you remember? I already answered you back then, Y/N.”

“What do you mean?”

“You asked me if I’d be your darling, even if thousands of miles may separate us, even if—”

“—if the paths we walk may crumble,” you finish off. “Or something like that. I actually have no idea what we said back then.”

Those were the lines in the play that you did back in high school, the very lines that the two of you conjured out of thin air one day and the very moment that started this whole thing.

“Yeah, that,” he says softly.

“Hmm, so, babe,” you put on your usual mockingly sweet tone, repeating the line that you said on stage many years ago, “are you going to kiss me?”

Jeonghan holds back a smile like he can’t contain his happiness, and follows with his line without missing a beat. “If that’s what my darling wants.”

The smile only widens when he gets up from his seat and you go to meet him halfway, and it’s the last thing you see when he leans in closer and closer. Jeonghan gently slides his thumb between his lips and yours as he closes the distance, like how it was done the very first time, but this time you can feel it as he slowly moves it away.

Then you’re kissing him, actually kissing him for real for the first time. His lips are soft and warm, and the bit of hesitance between you seems to completely melt away as you wrap your arms around him and he pulls you closer. You let yourself drown in his scent, the warmth of his touch, and the loud pounding of your heart now that you no longer have to be paying attention to the reactions of the people around you. Nothing else matters anymore, all that matters is what you have now.

You spend the rest of the night catching up, whether that’d be stories over the years of shared memories, or creating new memories to make up for the lost time. He tells you he loves you and that the trip suggestions were very much real, and the two of you laugh over how you’ve become the exact couple you once mocked. It’s easy to understand them now though, you think as Jeonghan gives you a sleepy smile as you’re cuddled up on the couch.

“Oh yeah, I wanted to ask something,” you say, and he looks at you in alarm at your abruptness. “Why did you tell Mingyu that we were together?”

Jeonghan stays silent for a bit, narrowing his eyes as if having difficulty recalling what you’re talking about. Then he finally answers. “Oh that?” He chuckles. “That was because I didn’t want him to think he had a chance with you.”

#jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #jeonghan fic #my fic #if you asked me just last week if i was ever gonna post again #i might've said no HAHAHA #truly this came out of nowhere!! and yes it's so rushed OTL #not a brand new idea tho bc it's smth i've been thinking about over the years #kinda inspired by an iconic tumblr post!!#tbh the first jeonghan fic on this blog was gonna be #his story of the holiday party series (i wrote 6k in dec and gave up)#was gonna scrap it but i reread it this week and it's not bad??#so try again this year ig 🤡

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lovecla · 1 month ago

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TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter nine:

➴ chapter warnings: mentions of toxic family, angst.

➴ word count: 3.8k

💌 from me to you: took my sweet time before publishing this because now my non hockey best friend follows me (i love u lily) here and i feel ashamed lmfao also ive been deep into ballroom hair tutorial videos on tiktok so im sorry for the delay. love u all though! (p.s. be patient with maddie yall)

౨ৎ

2024, MAY.

YOU STARED at the two piece set you chose for Jack’s birthday dinner and sighed, wondering if it was a good option or not.

After that wonderful weekend with Quinn at the cabin he had rented for you both, you decided to give it a shot and call Luke and Jack once, to know how they were doing; turns out Quinn was right, and they missed you just as much— or at least that's what they said when you explained that you were calling because you wanted to know how they were doing and that you missed them.

Luke talked with you for a good thirty minutes, while Jack exceeded himself and made it to the one hour mark. Even with the time difference, he managed to speak with you for a long time, and didn’t end the call until he was absolutely sure that you would come to his birthday dinner in Newark.

“You can come with Quinn, if you want. He’s coming too,” he said, and you wondered if you should tell him that you and Quinn now were some sort of friends with benefits.

Not that you didn’t want people to know. In fact, people probably already knew— or at least they suspected. It wasn’t like you and Quinn had been trying to be subtle, and your Instagram posts didn’t leave room for imagination. It was clear that you were with someone, and the chances of that someone being Quinn Hughes were very high.

All your life you tried to distance yourself from the Hughes brothers as much as you could. When you were younger, people asked if you knew them, and even though you didn’t understand why, you always told them no. After you grew up and made your own name, not mentioning Quinn, Luke or Jack felt like the right choice, so you just kept it that way.

And now, it was May 14th, and you were on your way to Jack’s house, with Quinn by your side. You had rented a hotel room for the weekend, even after Jack (and Luke) complained about how there was no need for that and how you could stay with them, you thought it was better this way. You didn’t want to intrude in their lives and sharing a hotel bedroom with Quinn wasn’t exactly the worst thing that could happen to you. And thankfully, Quinn didn’t complain about it either.

“Are you ready, baby?” Quinn stood by the bathroom door, looking at you through the mirror.

You picked your red lipstick up, opening it. “Just the last thing and then yeah.” You say before applying it, smearing the lipstick on your lips. “What do you think?” You ask, giving him a twirl.

“You’re unreal, Madison,” he eyes your body, up and down, before getting closer and kissing your forehead. “We might not leave this room tonight.”

You roll your eyes playfully.

“Come on, let’s go,” you say, taping him on his shoulder. “Did you grab Jacky’s gift? It was in my bag.”

“I did, yeah,” he says, leaving the bathroom after you. “Wanna tell me why you bought him a pop music album called ‘Make Me Yours’? A bit suggestive, don’t you think?”

You laugh, throwing your head back at Quinn’s furrowed brows.

“I was just listening to this album the other day and I don’t know why, but I thought he might like it.”

“Alright. I thought you wanted to be his.” He smirks, grabbing your purse for you and opening the bedroom door.

“Meh. He’s not the Hughes I’m interested in.” Quinn laughs, nodding with his head.

The drive to Jack’s place wasn’t long, fifteen minutes inside the car Quinn rented was all you needed to get to Jack’s house. You took advantage of the time inside the car to check on the photos the hotel Bella was staying in had sent you during your flight, smiling when you remembered how Quinn also got worried about her well being.

You were looking at Bella, trying your hardest not to let your eyes fill up with tears as she distanced herself from you to play with the other dogs there.

“Are you sure she’ll be okay?” You ask Ryan, the owner of the five star dog hotel you reserved for Bella so you and Quinn could travel together.

“Yes, Mrs. Carter, I can assure you that.” He smiles politely, holding his hands together.

“I need you to send me pictures of her hourly so I can see if she’s fine,” you demand, shaking your head. “If there’s anything wrong, call me. No matter what time it is, you will call me, do you understand?” You squinted, trying to look scary.

It probably worked, because soon you felt Quinn’s hand circling your waist, pulling you closer. You stared at him as he smiled at you. “I think Ryan understood everything perfectly, baby. Bella will be fine.”

“Yes, Mr. Hughes, Bella will be well taken care of.”

“Of course she is. Otherwise we’ll make sure this place is shut down.” Quinn says with the friendliest tone you ever heard coming out of his mouth, making you smile at him.

Ryan’s eyes twitched for a second before he managed to let out a scared laugh, excusing himself and leaving the two of you alone.

“Do you think we scared him enough?” Quinn asks as you both leave the fancy room.

You smirk. “I hope so. Otherwise this will be the only time I use my name for something.”

You and Quinn parked the car after a few minutes looking for a spot— the street was packed with cars, so you could only imagine what Jack’s house was going to look like— and you grabbed his gift before moving back to Quinn’s side and walking to Jack’s door.

Quinn rang the doorbell and a few minutes later, a very excited and happy Jack opened the door, holding a can of beer in his left hand.

“Huggy bear!” He hugged Quinn and pulled him inside the place. “Guys, Huggy Bear is here!”

You could hear the shouts coming from the living room and you smiled, watching as Quinn’s face turned into a cute shade of red and he looked at his brother like he wanted to murder him.

“Hey, Jacky, happy birthday. I love you,” Quinn mumbles, embarrassment coming out of his pores.

“Thank you,” he kisses Quinn on the cheek, clearly a bit tipsy and moves on to you. “You’re actually here.”

You smile. “I am. Happy birthday, Rowdy.”

He hugs you tight, holding your waist with both of his arms, his left hand feeling colder because of his beer. You kiss him on the cheek, making sure there were no lipstick marks left, and hand him his gift.

“This is for you.”

“Can we talk about how the actual gift here is you being here? With Quinn?” He smiles, closing the door behind you and Quinn. Your smile grows, feeling happy to see him this happy. “Thank you.”

“How many people did you invite?” Quinn asks beside you, sounding surprised.

“Just the fellas,” Jack shrugs. “And maybe some girls too.”

“There’s like thirty cars parked outside.” Quinn complains, and you squeeze his shoulder, involuntarily. Jack eyes your hand there for a second before rolling his eyes at Quinn.

“Stop being boring. Come on.”

Jack probably didn’t understand the concept of a small birthday dinner, which was what he said when he invited you to his birthday. You imagined that there would be ten people tops, but the twenty-three NJ Devils players were there, and their respective significant others as well. Not to mention the at least ten women and men who weren’t players nor girlfriends but were there as well.

While Quinn greeted some of the people he knew, you found Luke sitting on the couch, talking to a random girl.

“Mads? Jesus, you actually came.” he sounded as surprised as Jack did, and you raised your eyebrow, giving him a forehead kiss.

“Why are you so surprised? You know I wouldn’t miss the chance of taking pictures of Jack’s drunk face,” you joke, sitting on the couch beside him and smiling at the girl who was talking to Luke before. “Hi, I’m Madison.”

“I’m Jessica, nice to meet you,” she smiles, and you can tell she’s timid.

“Been a while since the last time I saw you. How’s life in Vancouver, M?” Luke asks, sipping on a beer he should not be drinking. You squint your eyes at him. “Don’t even start.”

You lift your hands in surrender. “I like living there.”

“I heard they have amazing lakes there,” the girl from before, Jessica, says, smiling and crossing her legs.

“Oh, yeah, they do.” you agree, smiling.

“You and Quinn visited one last week, didn’t you?” Luke asks, staring at you weirdly. You could tell he wanted to ask you something else, blue eyes full of questions, but he was content with the simple nod you gave him.

“I’m actually in the mood for a drink. Sorry for interrupting you both,” you say before getting up, watching as Luke smirked at you, probably happy because you didn’t cut his chances of getting laid that night, while Jessica shyly smiled at you, waving with her hand.

Finding Jack’s kitchen wasn’t hard, since the majority of the people were staked in the living room. You took the liberty of opening his fridge, smiling when you found your favorite beer brand inside it.

You grabbed a can, closing the door right after it. You opened it, taking a sip after.

“Oh, wow,” you hear a voice behind you, loud enough to be heard over the music playing in the background, making you turn, still with the can around your lips. A blond man stood by the kitchen door with his hands inside his pockets. “It’s not every day we see a lady like you drinking directly from the source.”

You chuckle, putting the can down. “That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

The man smiles and shrugs.

“I probably have to work on my pick up lines a little bit more.”

“That was a pick up line?” you scoff. “I’m scared.”

“I’m Jesper Bratt,” he laughs, extending his hand, which you promptly grab. “Never seen you around Jack’s parties before.”

“Madison Carter,” you introduce yourself, letting go of his hand. “I’m an old friend of Jack’s. And I live in Vancouver, I’m just here to celebrate Jacky’s birthday.”

Bratt whistles. “Damn. And I thought that the twenty minute drive here was long. You flew a whole country for him.”

You smile and lift your shoulders, feeling shy suddenly.

“It’s no big deal, I’ve known him for years. Are you one of his teammates?”

“Yes, actually,” he rests his elbow on one of the counters, staring at you with fierce eyes. “So, Madison Carter. Tell me about yourself.”

“Is this a job interview?” you laugh, finishing the rest of your beer in one go.

“It might as well be,” he smirks, moving until he was in front of the fridge, opening so he could get another beer for you. You thanked him, before speaking again.

“And for what position am I applying for?” you ask, only realizing what your sentence implied after Bratt’s laugh.

“I hope it’s for missionary.” he cocks his head to the side, a flirty smile decorating his lips.

You rolled your eyes, sipping on your beer again.

Jesper wasn’t a bad looking man. And usually, you’d feel flattered that a man as handsome as he would be interested in you, but this was when you realized that you were fucked.

Because no matter how much Bratt flirted with you, or how seductive he sounded, it didn’t matter— he isn’t him.

You were sixteen years old when you realized that that infatuation you felt for Quinn in reality meant that you were in love with him. Maybe if you were anyone else, you would’ve realized sooner, since the signs were as clear as Algarve’s beach sea, but coming from someone who knew little to nothing about love, it took you way longer.

You came to the conclusion that it wasn’t normal for you to compare all of the boys your age to Quinn. It wasn’t normal for you to cry after your first kiss because you wanted Quinn to be the one who kissed you first. Same thing with your first time having sex or giving a guy a blowjob.

You were in love with Quinn Hughes, and probably had always been.

But then you grew up, moved to Los Angeles and tried your hardest to be normal and not feed your teenage delusions about marrying Quinn and carrying his children. You forced yourself to believe that what you felt for him wasn’t anything more than a crush. A teenage crush.

And it was easy to believe that, since you hadn’t seen him for years. It was easy to pretend you were happy with Richard, or with any of the guys who flirted with you.

But when you saw Quinn for the first time after all those years, looking as handsome as you knew him to be, you realized that your silly infatuation for him wasn’t just that. No. Twenty-two year old Madison Carter felt the same things sixteen year old Madison did.

And now, standing in the middle of Jack’s kitchen, you realized something worse: it wasn’t just a crush. It was a wardrobe full of feelings, it was a gray sky packed with heavy clouds. You were in love with him.

And people are right when they say that owning something is probably the most hurtful way of loving. Because you loved Quinn, you owned him right now— you know he isn’t seeing anyone else— and yet, he wasn’t yours to keep.

The months were passing by, and soon it’d be September again and you’d have to move back to Los Angeles, and leave him and what you wanted so bad to call yours behind.

“Earth to Madison.”

You smiled at Jesper, feeling bad for zoning out on him like this.

“Sorry, I’m still a little bit jet lagged,” you explain, leaving your still full can on top of the counter and excusing yourself. “I think I need to use the bathroom, sorry.”

“No worries. The night’s still young.” He smiles at you one last time before you leave the kitchen, looking for Jack’s back door, and leaving the house.

Thankfully, no one had had the same idea as you, so Jack’s backyard was empty and with no one around to watch you freak out over your realization.

Or at least that’s what you thought.

“I knew something was up with you, but now I need to know what.” Luke’s voice reached your ears, making you smile and turn your head around, looking at the man who was sitting on one of Jack’s couches,

You walked in his direction, sitting beside him, resting your chin on your knees. “Just tired.” You mumble, closing your eyes.

“Maybe Jack would fall for that but me?” He scoffs. “Hell no. Spill it.”

“Why are you talking like a seventeen year old girl?”

“Don’t try to change the subject, little lady. I’m waiting.”

“I’m still older than you, y’know.”

“And I’m taller, so I don’t care,” he coughs, poking your cheek with his freezing cold finger. “Come on, M. Is it Quinn?”

You lift your head fast, frowning “Why are you talking about him?”

“It’s obvious that something’s going on between the two of you and you just confirmed it,” he chuckles. “What happened?”

“I don’t even know where to start,” you sigh, putting your head against your knees again.

“I think that starting from the beginning is a great choice.”

“You think you’re so funny,” you roll your eyes, playful. “You’re not. And I don’t know if I want to talk about my relationship with your brother with you.”

“Look, it already feels weird because you’re literally a sister to me, so it feels like I’m watching something very unholy and sinful happening but I want to help you, so just get it out of the way.”

You stay quiet for a while, debating with yourself if you should talk with him or not.

“I’m in love with your brother,” you whisper, saying the truth out loud for the first time ever. “And I’ve been in love with him for a long time now.”

Luke doesn’t say anything, so you keep going.

“We’ve recently started to… well, explore each other in other ways.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, I knew it’d be bad but fuck me sideways this is disgusting,” he groans, making you laugh.

“You were the one who asked me to talk to you!” you laugh at his disgusted face.

“Yeah, but I regret it now. Leave all of the romantic parts aside, please.”

You roll your eyes, but do as he says. “And the truth is I don’t know what to do. I’m only staying in Vancouver for four more months and I don’t want to start something with him knowing that I won’t be able to keep it.”

Not to mention that once Quinn got to see you for what you truly are, he’d want to run away from you as soon as possible, just like your family did, making you leave your house as soon as you turned eighteen.

“Why can’t you just tell him this?” Luke stares at you, licking his lips.

“Why are you even asking me this?” You raise your eyebrow. “Why would I tell him about loving him but not being able to be with him?”

Luke stays silent for a while, making you stop staring at him and stare at the sky above you— the moon shining bright and the stars decorating the space around her.

“D’you know what I think?” he finally says, and you hum, waiting for his answer. “I think that you’re scared.”

You frown. “Scared? Why would I be scared?”

“Because you know Quinn, and you know he would do absolutely everything to be with you. He would fly to Vancouver every week if he had to, just to stay in LA with you.”

“I can’t let him do that,” you whisper, feeling terrible just by the thought of it. “I would never ask him to do something like that.”

“I’m not saying you would, I’m just saying that he’s willing to do something like that for you, and it scares you. It scares you to think that he probably loves you enough to do something like that.”

“We don’t know if he actually l–loves me.” You stutter, the word making your mouth feel bitter.

Luke sighs, moving his body around until he is facing you.

“Maddie, look,” he starts, his tone barely recognizable with how serious he sounded. “We’ve never said anything because it wasn’t our place, and maybe it still isn’t, but—” he breathes deep, his eyes never leaving yours. “The way your family treats you isn’t normal.”

“Luke—”

“I know, hell, we know that love isn’t exactly something you have experience with in your life and it’s fine. But you need to learn to accept the love people are willing to give you.”

“I do accept it,” you bite back, defensive.

“When was the last time you said ‘I love you’ to anyone?” Luke asks, and you can feel all of the walls you worked so hard to build starting to crack. And it scared you to death.

You got up fast, startling Luke. “Don’t talk about shit you don’t know.”

He also gets up, reaching out for you, making you step back immediately. He pulls his hands back, frowning. “Madison.”

“No, you— you can’t just say shit like that, Luke.” You could feel your heart racing inside your chest, your head pounding with unwelcome thoughts, but now you’d already started and— “I know what love is.”

“I’m not saying you don’t, M, I’m just saying you don’t know how to accept it!” He yells and raises his arms, pretty face portraying a deep shade of red underneath the moonlight. “Jack, Mom, Dad, me and Quinn have loved you for years and you can’t even acknowledge it!”

You both turn your head around as you hear the back door opening, and Quinn’s worried voice reaching your ears. “Luke, Maddie. Is everything okay here?”

“Madison’s—” Luke starts talking, and you angrily press your index finger against his muscled chest.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Luke,” you whisper, watching as he looks down at you, his sad, blue eyes grabbing a piece of your heart and keeping it.

You knew you were all over the place and you knew Luke had the greatest of all intentions, but he was right. You were scared. You had never been so scared before, not even when you moved to a whole other country by yourself, with no one to rely on.

You knew you were hurting him, just like you knew you were going to hurt Quinn, and maybe even Jack. Because that’s what you did to people, you hurt them.

Luke steps back, then he’s walking towards the door where Quinn stood, getting inside without saying a word.

You took a deep breath, thankful for all of the times you wanted to cry at work but couldn’t because you were surrounded by people. Now you know how to push your tears back whenever you need to.

“Maddie?” You hear Quinn’s soft whisper beside you, only then realizing he had gotten closer, and was now holding you by your waist. “What happened, sweetheart?”

You, you think. You happened, Quinn. You and your brothers and your parents.

You try to smile, knowing it wouldn’t reach your eyes. “Luke and I were just talking, it’s fine.”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost and Lukey looked like he had just lost a game by 10-0,” he stares at you, worried. “Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing happened, I swear,” you lie through your teeth, knowing he would see right through it. “Let’s go back to the party.”

“We’re not going back there with you like this,” he frowns. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

You shake your head, already letting go of him. “No. We came all the way here to see Jack and that’s what we’re going to do.”

“But—”

You kiss his lips gently, briefly touching them.

“Please? I’m fine, I swear.”

He stares at you for a while, his eyes searching for an answer in yours, but whatever he found made him give up, briefly nodding before kissing your forehead and walking you back to Jack’s party.

And just like that, you had your confirmation.

Even though you’re one hundred percent sure that you were meant to be his, Quinn Hughes wasn’t meant to be yours.

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay 🤎

#quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x model!fmc #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey #TYPA

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superblysubpar · 5 months ago

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<- part two | part four -> | series masterlist

chapter summary: You don’t like Steve Harrington.

the song: Hypotheticals by Lake Street Drive

also for your listening pleasure: Alone by Heart

3,349 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / alcohol consumption & mentions / thunderstorm mentions / wearing steve’s clothing, but size isn’t mentioned | my blog is 18+

AN: sorry for the delay, and for another “cliff-hanger” type ending, but I promise this next chapter, chapter four is meaty, and long, and I hope makes up for it. Also, I’ll probably post two chapters this next Monday, since I was late with this one. Thanks for your continued support, comments, messages, reblogs. I had this story locked away since December and really doubted it, and I really can’t express how much finally sharing it and you all reading it means! Thanks for being here 💛

A house on Cornwallis Street - Monday

Steve shifts against the leather seat, wet denim making a squeaking sound that’s loud enough to be heard over the rain pelting the windows and the faint piano intro that has you reaching towards the radio on impulse.

As the turn signal clicks rhythmically with the wipers, your hand stalls halfway to the dial when Steve looks over at you.

He nods his head towards the radio, relaxed as he makes the turn onto his street, though his fingers hold the steering wheel at a responsible ten and two.

“You can turn it up, doesn’t bother me. S’good song.”

You hum some sort of agreement, nudging the dial a touch louder, so Heart’s ballad can be fully heard.

His head tilts, thumb tapping the leather of the steering wheel in perfect time with the beat of the song.

The lyrics aren’t lost on you, and instead of wondering if Steve also knows all the words, you turn to look out the window.

Right at the wrong moment.

The flinch of your shoulders is involuntary, and so is how the jerk of your head to face forward again makes the wrap of his fingers around the wheel tighter. Passing the house makes his stomach churn more than yours, especially when your whisper is almost lost to the wailing lead vocals of the chorus.

“Forgot you lived on the same street.”

“Yeah.”

Steve bites his cheek, unsure of what else to say. Should he say he’s sorry, all these years later? Will that just make it worse? Should he make a joke? But would you think that means he doesn’t care?

You’re lost in memories of a car not unlike this one. Of a humiliating night at a house on this street. Of a beer thrown in a face and a pair of heels left in a yard.

So when your name is spoken softly, quieter than he usually is, you’re shocked to see the car is in park in a driveway of a large house, off, and Steve’s lips are parting under eyes that are looking at you with the same pity he had that night.

You quickly unsnap the seatbelt, and practically fling yourself out of the passenger door, squinting under the heavy drops of rain smacking your face as you run up the pavement towards a front door you never thought you’d be entering.

Steve is right behind you, breathing heavily as he shakes his hair out like a wet dog, rubbing a large palm down his face as he shoves a key in the lock.

Stepping inside the foyer of Steve Harrington’s house is surreal.

Not only because you’re standing in the home of the man you’ve sworn you hate, but it’s picture perfect. It’s one of those houses that feels like it belongs in a magazine or one of those books your parents used to keep on the coffee table. There’s sparse wall decorations and furniture, though all of it high end - rich woods and soft neutrals, abstract art. There’s a ton of natural lighting that you can see is casting his home in a soft blue glow even through the storm.

Steve flicks on the entryway lamp, warm light illuminating where he hangs his family video vest on a hook. He kicks off his Nike’s that squish and squelch as the toe knocks against the heel then the floor.

He starts to step out of the foyer, calling over his shoulder, “I don’t care, but my mom will most likely murder you if you leave your shoes on.”

You’re not sure if he means he doesn’t care if you leave them on and it’s your choice whether to risk the wrath of Mrs. Harrington, or if he doesn’t care if she kills you.

The thought of leaving your feet trapped inside wet leather boots for who knows how long makes you shudder, so you’re quick to unlace them and leave them next to Steve’s muddied sneakers.

Your vest is removed next, hung next to his with a frown as you watch it drip onto the hardwoods. When you glance up to ask if you should move them to somewhere less prone to water damage, Steve is gone.

“Harrington?” you call out, arms wrapping around yourself as you risk a step further into the house.

“In here!” he yells, past the staircase and around a corner.

Venturing deeper, wet socks leave darker marks on cream carpet in a small den. A cozy and large green armchair and desk, and dark wood bookcases that sit mostly empty frame a wide set of sliding glass doors that look out at a pool. The bright and normally calm turquoise surface interrupted with the rain, ripples running across it to tiled edges.

Opening and closing of wood doors from behind you pulls you from your trance in front of the pool, spinning to see Steve standing in a kitchen that’s just as nice as this room. White tiled floors contrast with a green walls and warm wood cabinets. He’s pulling a bag of pretzels from a cupboard, a jar of peanut butter, and Oreos. He drops the snacks in a heap on the large center island before he looks up at you.

“Figured we might need some snacks while we wait it out. Want something to drink too?”

Before you can respond, he’s already spinning towards the other end of the room, speaking with his hands about how peanut butter always makes him thirsty.

You drip on the tiles of the Harrington’s kitchen, shivering as Steve speaks into the fridge.

“Do you want…shit, um, I have beer? Or water? A thing that I think is a tomato? Which isn’t really a drink so I don’t know why I’m still talking about it…”

His shoulders flex under the damp light blue cotton of his shirt, his hand runs through his hair before he reaches in to grab something.

When you remain silent, he looks over his shoulder, and you’re sure he’s caught you staring at the sliver of his stomach that became revealed when he stretched for the beers now in his hands.

But then he quickly stands up straight, fridge door swinging shut behind him as he carelessly lets the two cans slide onto the counter top.

“Shit, I didn’t even…I’m freezing so you must…and I’m sorry, I-“

A crack of thunder that seems to come from inside the house makes you both jump, bringing forth two sudden realizations to your mind.

The first, found out from the way Steve’s hands shake again, and the way his gaze darts out the windows showing inky clouds against an eerie, almost green tinted sky.

Steve Harrington is nervous.

The second realization comes from your step towards him. Maybe you were on your way to comfort him, maybe it was to punch his shoulder and taunt him. Either way, the step reminds you that you’re dripping water and making a nice puddle all over Mrs. Harrington’s pristine tiles.

Which just so happen to be the same lovely shade as your shirt.

And maybe both the white cotton and the pink lace that sits beneath it leave little to the imagination when frigid AC and damp clothing combine against sensitive skin.

Your arms slowly cross over your chest, hugging yourself as you finally manage to let out a breathy exhale and the words, “I love beer.”

Steve’s lips twitch, lifting on the left in a lopsided smile, a far away look as he stares at you from the other side of the kitchen and quietly asks, “Yeah?”

Despite what your nipples would like to convey, his stare heats you from the inside out, convincing you that lightening has struck the house and you’re on fire. So you don’t really think you’re lying when you say, “And I’m not cold.”

Steve’s cheeks are pink as he gestures to the counter top, “Okay, sure. Well I’m hard,” he squeezes his eyes shut and quickly corrects, “Cold! I’m cold, and I’m, um, if you wanna carry that stuff, I’m gonna grab clothes and we can go down to the basement.”

He quickly shuffles around the island, making sure he leaves the three feet of counter between you till he slips out of the room with cheeks darkening to the color of your bra. He goes so fast he misses the way you bite your lip and hide a smile.

But as his feet pound on the stairs, you stand up straighter and slap your hands to your cheeks.

No.

Nope.

Not. Happening.

You don’t like him.

Settling the beers and snacks against your chest and in your arms, you head back the way you came, slowing as you see photos on the shelves.

The typical posed family portrait, hands on his shoulders, Steve stiff in a white button down shirt and tie at various ages. But there’s one that catches your eye - tucked behind a larger frame. It rests behind the dusty glass off center, at an angle, edges worn.

A much younger Steve faces the camera, one eye squinted shut, holding up an ice cream cone proudly, with chocolate smeared across his lips and cheeks. And then you see the building behind him, the little girl leaving the frame, the back of her hand just visible - showing off a painted and sparkly tiger that matched her green nail polish.

You don’t like him.

“Hey,” he calls from the hallway, pulling you away from spiraling thoughts. Steve stands in the doorway, holding clothes in his arms, his eyes look at the picture, then back at you. He nods his head towards the door behind him and swallows, “It’s getting pretty dark and spooky out there, think we should get down to the basement?”

Without the thoughts of a hot summer night and a cute boy who offered to share his ice cream with you, and that same boy who ruined everything that same night clouding your vision, you now see the sky has gone almost black, the pool water calm and undisturbed.

You can’t look away, wanting to sit and watch the storm continue to roll in, to see what it destroys. Like an accident, you can’t help it. Thunder rumbles, lightening flashes, and Steve says your name softly, pleading, and it snaps you out of it.

His arms that hold the clothes flex, blue cotton tightening on his shoulders as they hunch when the crack of the thunder makes you jump and him clear his throat.

He opens a door opposite the room, flicking on the light before turning to make sure you’re following him. Once you close the door behind you, you continue down the creaky stairs, until Steve stops abruptly and spins, his face level with your chest as he looks up at you with a winced, “Before you yell at me, there’s something you should know.”

“What,” you laugh, shifting awkwardly on the dimly lit staircase, “The thunderstorm isn’t real, all lab created and fake movie effects done by the little twerps that follow you around because you promised them free rides for life if you helped seal this bet’s fate?”

Steve groans, hanging his head backwards before he faces you again with a smile. “Shit. Why did I not think of that?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” you whisper, ignoring the way your hand itches to touch the three freckles that crinkle next to his eye when he smiles.

“Right,” Steve nods, “As we established during fake-tits-gate. But no,” he laughs, turning back around, “I have a bunch of stolen rentals down here that Keith and you have been asking about for like two months.”

You don’t know if you want to smack him for saying the word tits, or laugh and sort of turn into a gooey puddle because of it, or yell at him for the clear work violation.

So you settle on none of it, only admitting a small sigh and then mumbling, “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Fuck me? Sure would help me out with this whole bet thing.” He spins with a grin and you narrow your eyes. But he persists, raising a right hand, “I swear, it’ll be great for you. I’ll do all the work. Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a boy scout,” you accuse, ignoring the way your heartbeat seems to sound a little louder down here. How it’s definitely colder and that’s why your nipples are hard again.

Steve hums, dropping the pile of clothes on a worn coffee table. His fingers flip through the stack, glancing up at you as he asks, “Oh? And how do you know? Keeping tabs on me, babe?”

When you don’t respond, he looks up again, finding you frowning with shoulders hunched.

“Shit,” he whispers, “I was doing so good too. You really don’t like me calling you that, huh?”

You roll your eyes, blinking profusely as you busy yourself with setting the snacks and beer on the coffee table. He almost misses it when you murmur, “It’s just cause he called me that. Before…Brendan…”

Not caring to finish the sentence attached to the memories swirling around inside your head, you move towards the opposite wall where a small box TV and stack of tapes sit. “So, what terrible taste in movies do I have to endure?”

“Hey.”

“It’s fine, Harrington, real-“

He says your name, interrupting you and when you look up at him, he knows this is his chance to say what he should have said a long time ago.

“I’m sorry.”

Steve says the words with so much sincerity, a wrinkle between his brows making something inside your stomach tug, like your body has a visceral reaction of needing to go over and smooth it away. He stands across the room from you, next to a ratty brown couch, holding sweats, dripping water as he shakes his head, looking the most genuine he ever has.

“I’ll never call you that again, I promise.”

This time, you’re absolutely sure you are on fire. Warmth flows from the top of your head down to your socks and all you can do is mumble a measly, “Okay.”

It feels like an entire hour and no time at all passes while you stare at each other, opposite sides of the room, but for once, there’s a common ground between you, an unspoken wave of flags, a line drawn in the sand being kicked and smoothed out. Neither of you knowing what’s supposed to come next.

So naturally, Steve ruins the moment.

“So, like,” he blows out his breath, tilting his head, “Honey, baby, sweetie okay? I just wanna make sure. You know, for when we’re having sex.”

His smile tells you that he’s kidding, he’s making a joke to lighten whatever mood you’ve both trapped yourselves in. So you avoid his gaze and push a tape into the player, not even reading the name as you wave a dismissive hand. “Go change already, you smell like a wet dog.”

Steve backs away, towards a small bathroom and hums, “Seems like you’re just trying to get me out of my clothes faster.” He nods towards the coffee table as you approach it, “Oh, and I did bring some clothes down for you too, if you want them. I know you said you weren’t cold but…”

He flips the light on in the bathroom, facing you, the glow behind him creating a halo on top of his caramel highlights as he grins in a way that’s the opposite of angelic.

“Your boobs have been telling a very different story.”

The throw pillow you chuck at the door with a scoff misses him, smacking the wood that manages to close just in time, not doing much to hide his pleased laughter.

“I hate you!” you call out, arms crossing over your chest as you look at the clothes.

“Really?” he calls, “Cause your boobs have been-“

“No! No more! Or I steal your car and drive home!” you can’t help but laugh around the threat, so you know he knows you’re not serious, but he remains quiet.

Despite it being easy for you to become irritated with him, you’d much rather this Steve than the quiet or nervous Steve. Or now, sincere, Steve, who you have no idea how to act around. This is all normal territory, the water you both know how to tread. This is able to be navigated.

Or so you thought.

You hate to give him the satisfaction of being right, but you are cold. So you grumble to yourself about taking your clothes off in Steve Harrington’s basement. Your jeans stick to your legs as you kick them off, making a pile with your white shirt. A laugh huffs out of your nose as you slip on plaid pajama bottoms, wondering how to make some sort of joke about them, when you’re halfway through pulling a sweatshirt on. Your arms and head pause inside the gray material, and you inhale.

Your knees are replaced with jello.

You’re in the woods, mint toothpaste, cotton laundry, and something so undeniably Steve Harrington, you can’t help but take another large inhale.

In your scent frenzy that’s not unlike a cat with catnip, you don’t hear the bathroom door open or Steve’s sharp breath in.

He swallows, seeing you standing in his clothes, arms raised and halfway through his sweatshirt, your bare lower back, pink lace band of your bra shown off.

His knees are replaced with jello.

Steve clears his throat, and you quickly pull the sweatshirt down, neither of you admitting your moment of indulgence, and neither of you daring to ask if the other caught it.

You sit next to each other on the couch, Steve hands you a beer, and neither of you speak. All you can think about is how to actively stop yourself from ducking your nose into the collar of the sweatshirt and taking another large inhale, and all he can think of is a curious thought that tugs and tugs and begs to know if your underwear matches your bra.

It isn’t until the lights flicker, and thunder growls that either of you moves or says anything.

Steve flinches, wiping a palm on his thigh that sits too close to yours and you go for a joke, trying to return once more to already mapped out communication points.

“I had no idea the king of Hawkins was afraid of a little rain.”

When you pop open the beer and Steve only grimaces, flinching again when thunder claps overhead, you’re brought back to another night, sitting next to the same boy, with the roles reversed.

Sweaty fingers had smudged your tiger, but it was worth it, to have someone to hold while your heart rate returned to normal. So you look at Steve now, who’s eyes watch the TV screen but aren’t really seeing it, who’s shoulders tense, who’s been far quieter and genuine tonight than you’d yet to see from him ever, and make a decision.

“Wanna squeeze my hand till it’s over?”

Steve exhales, lacing his fingers with yours as he laughs nervously, “Jesus christ, I thought you’d never ask.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, adjusting your arm against his and shifting into the couch deeper, ignoring the way his thumb swipes once over yours and what it does to your stomach. “Thought you were nervous because of me. You know,” you laugh, taking a sip of your beer before continuing, “Seeing nipples for the first time is a lot for a guy. You did good.”

“Ha-ha,” he says dryly, squeezing your hand on the next rumble. “Seriously, don’t tell anyone?”

“That you haven’t seen a woman’s nipples before? Because I will absolutely be telling anyone who will listen.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, just turns his head, cheek resting against the scratchy brown couch, taking in your smiling profile.

You don’t dare to look at him as you sigh, squeezing his hand back.

“Secret’s safe with me, Harrington.”

You don’t like him.

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#superbly subpar's writing #BICFTF #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington series #steve harrington fic #cw alcohol #cw alchohol mention

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formulauno98 · 19 days ago

Text

Yacht Girl Summer - Chapter Twelve / Chalet Girl Winter - Saturday - George Russell x Reader, Toto Wolff x Reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: 🌶 Some mild spice but 18+ only.

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction. No use of Y/N and minimal descriptions because I want everyone/anyone to be able to enjoy this. Sorry for the huge delay in posting, life has been hectic! Hope you still enjoy my fic.

SATURDAY MORNING

You were blissfully happy waking up in Toto’s warm embrace, exactly where you had drifted off to sleep following your passionate night. Light was creeping in through the curtains that you didn’t even remember closing last night and you smiled as it dawned on you that Toto must have closed them once you were asleep. Thankfully the storm had passed, leaving a stillness save for Toto’s soft breathing as he slept soundly beside you.

Trying your best not to disturb him, you shifted as you moved over to check the alarm clock on the bedside table to see how early it was. Eight thirty, fuck.

Toto had told everyone to be down for breakfast at nine, ready to hit the ski slopes shortly after. Amid the power cut you’d both forgotten to put your phones on charge so your alarms hadn’t woken you up.

A little nervous about waking the man sleeping next to you, you gently shook his arm. “Morning.”

He still did not stir so you tried again, this time more forcefully. “Hey, wake up…”

“Huh?” came a groan, as he opened his eyes sleepily, his hand drifting to your waist, “What time is it?”

“Eight-thirty,” you said, “I’m sorry to wake you but our alarms didn’t go off.”

“No no don’t be silly.” he said, clutching you closer, his lips ghosting the back of your ear, “Sorry, I should have put our phones on charge when the power came back on.”

”Didn’t it come back on in the middle of the night?” you asked, snuggling back into his arms, content with staying in bed for a while longer.

”Yes, not long after you dropped off.” he said, kissing your shoulder, “I got up to close the curtains.”

“Well, aren’t you slick?” you replied lazily, “Drawing the curtains so we have an excuse to never get out of bed.”

“Hmm,” said Toto, his hands roaming absentmindedly over your body as he spooned you, “I suppose we do need to get dressed. But I don’t want to.”

“Me neither,” you said, pulling his arm back over you.

“You’re a bad influence,” he said, lightly squeezing your thigh before letting go entirely and slipping out of bed.

Pouting, you made a face as he wandered over to the curtains, offering you a prime view of his gym

honed ass.

“Stop looking at my ass,” he said, chuckling as he drew back the curtains, revealing the spectacular morning view of the valley below. The sky was bright and the snow was sparkling, it was the perfect day.

“I actually don’t know which view I prefer,” you said, sitting up in bed, smirking.

“Nice save.” said Toto before coming back over to you, “Now, we don’t have so much time. Do you want to use the bathroom first or do you want to share?”

Showering together was a new level of intimacy that you’d been yet to explore but you figured there was no time like the present to try it, “Let’s share.” you said with a smile.

– – –

Thanks to Toto lathering you up in the shower thoroughly, you’d taken longer to get ready than you’d anticipated. By the time you made yourselves present in the dining room for breakfast, your guests had almost finished eating.

“Good morning,” said Toto, brazen in his tardiness.

“Morning boss.” replied James with a wink, “I see your game, tell us to wake up early and give yourself a lie in.”

“I’m sure he was otherwise occupied,” John added with a knowing smirk, one of the few people who would dare try and tease Toto.

Toto chuckled, sitting down beside you, pouring you both a coffee and grabbing some pastries. “Work-life balance, James. Some of us have mastered it.”

James, not missing a beat, grinned. “Yeah, I’m sure you were busy working hard this morning.”

Toto raised his coffee cup with a mock-serious nod, “As always.”

As the table laughed, you clocked Sam and Darren looking at each other, surprised to see their boss so relaxed. Less amused was George, whose eyes flickered to you more than once and although he tried to mask it, there was no mistaking the way his jaw tightened when his eyes found Toto. To his left, Elisa simply looked a little bored. You still could not figure her out.

“So, we were just talking about today’s plan” John started as the laughter died down, “What were you thinking Toto? Looks like the perfect powder day.”

“Well, I have promised some ski lessons, so we will be taking to the blue runs this morning.” he said, slipping his arm around you, “But I know some of you already ski well and George is keen to try the black runs so I suggest we split and reconvene at lunchtime. What do you all think?”

Murmurs echoed around the table as the group found Toto’s plan agreeable. You were slightly nervous as you were not confident with skiing but Toto had assured you he’d be patient.

“Sounds good to me boss.” said George, “Who’s up for the blacks?”

“Count me in,” Sam said, a competitive glint in his eye.

Darren nodded eagerly. “Me too. Just try to keep up, George.”

Elisa let out a dramatic sigh. “I guess I’ll have to keep an eye on you boys, so you don’t do anything stupid.”

George shot her a glance, clearly not thrilled with her sarcasm. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Anytime,” she replied curtly.

Clocking their awkward interaction, Cara caught your eye, raising an arched brow. It was certainly a strange dynamic and not one you expected for a new couple. Even when your relationship was fraught you wouldn’t have said something like that to George.

Breaking the tension, John countered, “I’ll come too, Elisa. These boys are troublemakers eh?”

Smiling slightly Elisa nodded, “Great.” She was hard work for sure.

“Anybody else?” asked George, looking around the table, brushing off Elisa’s frostiness.

“No way.” said Marion, “I’ll be on the blues, I’m on holiday, not at boot camp.”

James laughed in agreement, “Same, plus with my dodgy knee, blues are probably for the best. I’m getting old!”

“That’s more than fair.” said George, “How about you Cara?”

“I’ll keep an eye on James.” she said, “Last year he took a tumble and he can’t be trusted.”

‘Oh yes, the infamous tumble.” said John, trying to stifle a laugh, “Sponsored by the air ambulance.”

“Don’t remind me.” said James, “Humiliating.”

“What happened?” you asked Toto quietly.

“You know these guys, always competitive.” he said, gesturing at them, “They decided to go off-piste on an adventure and long story short, James cracked his ankle and had to be airlifted to hospital.”

“Oh shit, I never heard about this!” you said, “Well hopefully that won’t happen on this trip.”

“You and me both,” said James smiling dryly.

“Indeed. Well, I think we have a plan, shall we get ready and reconvene in ten minutes?” Toto said, glancing at the clock. “We don’t want to miss the best of the morning powder.”

As everyone finished their coffees, you could feel George’s eyes lingering on you again. It made you slightly uneasy but Toto seemed oblivious, content to finish his croissant and hit the slopes as quickly as possible.

– – –

Having suited and booted with some help from a bemused Greta, you’d made it outside. Out on the slopes, the day was stunning, crisp air, clear skies and the perfect layer of powdered snow. As discussed the group had split with George leading half of the group to the black runs, whilst you stayed on the blue runs, eager to improve your technique with Toto’s help.

You should have been confident, but as you started your descent on your first run, nerves took hold and no amount of encouragement from Toto could keep you from feeling slightly out of your depth. Although it was just a blue, the least challenging colour for Austrian slopes, it felt steeper than you had expected.

“Just take it slow,” Toto called out from beside you, his voice reassuring. “You’re doing great.”

“I feel like Bambi,” you muttered, your legs trembling as you tried to stay upright.

He laughed, skiing effortlessly alongside you. “You look a lot better than Bambi.”

Despite his best efforts, your nerves got the better of you and in the middle of a particularly sharp turn, you lost your balance. Before you could stop yourself, you toppled sideways, falling into the soft snow with a thud. You let out a groan, wiping snow off your face as you lay sprawled on the ground.

Toto immediately skidded to a stop and instead of helping you up, lowered himself down beside you, laughing, “Well, that was elegant.”

You couldn’t help but laugh too, “You’re supposed to help me, not join me!”

“I couldn’t leave you down here alone,” he said, grinning as he lay back on the snow, his head resting on his arms. “Besides, it’s nice down here. We should make snow angels.”

"You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head but smiling despite yourself. You unclipped yourself and lay back beside him.

“Tradition after a fall,” Toto teased, nudging your leg. “Come on, snow angels.”

You let out a playful sigh, moving your arms and legs to join in, both of you laughing like children.

When you finally sat up, catching your breath, Toto was having none of it and pulled you back down to lie on top of him, your helmets and goggles clashing slightly as he leaned up for a kiss.

“Thank you,” you said, resting your hand on his chest.

“What for?” he asked, squeezing you closer.

“For not making me feel like shit for falling over.” You glanced up the slope, where George and the others were likely tackling the black runs. Memories surfaced of your last ski trip with George and how he’d only offered a hand with an impatient shake of his head whenever you fell. There had been no lying in the snow laughing together.

Toto followed your gaze and reached out, brushing snow from your cheek. “Everybody falls.” he said, his eyes concerned, “It’s part of learning, you’re doing great.”

You gave a small nod and a smile, your heart pounding, not from the fall, but from the man sprawled out on the snow beneath you.

“Let’s get back up,” he said, lifting you to your feet before pulling himself up too. “You’ve got this.”

As you both brushed off the snow, you felt a surge of determination. “Okay, okay, I’m going to try again. And this time I’m not going to fall.”

Toto chuckled, adjusting his goggles. “I’ll hold you to that. Just remember, confidence is key.”

With a nod, you pushed off again, heart racing. The snow felt softer beneath your skis this time, but as you approached another turn, the nerves crept back in. You focused on the rhythm, just like Toto had shown you, but just as you began to gain some speed, a small bump caught you off guard.

“Shit!” you shouted, your skis slipping out from under you as you tumbled sideways again, landing in a fluffy pile of snow.

“Not going to fall again huh?” Toto called out, amusement dancing in his eyes as he skied up next to you, extending a gloved hand to help you up, “You’re making this look like an Olympic sport.”

“Very funny,” you replied, “At this rate, I’ve won the Gold.”

He chuckled, squeezing your waist as he handed your pole back to you, “There’s that winning mentality.”

As you regained your footing, you spotted George and the others zipping down a steep black run in the distance. George was flying along with Elisa alongside him and you couldn’t help but feel inadequate. Intrusive thoughts entered your mind but you tried your best to shake them off and turned your attention back to Toto.

“Ready to give it another go?” he asked, his tone encouraging.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” you replied, buoyed by Toto’s kind smile. He really had the patience of a saint.

With a fresh focus, you tackled the slope again, taking Toto’s advice and making it a decent way down before the familiar wobbles crept in. Only this time, you kept your nerve and nailed the next turn.

“There you go,” Toto cheered, skiing alongside you. “That’s much better.”

“Thanks! I think I might be getting the hang of it,” you grinned, your confidence growing.

As you reached the bottom, you were greeted by the view of Cara, Marion and James waiting for you at the cafe at the bottom, bundled up in their jackets, sipping hot chocolates from steaming mugs. They had decided to take it easy, and they were clearly enjoying the show, clapping enthusiastically as you approached the terrace.

“You did it!” Cara called out, her face glowing with pride.

“Well, I had a very patient teacher,” you said, brushing snow from your goggles and turning towards Toto as he skied up next to you.

“Looks like you’ve got yourself a fan club,” he said teasingly.

“Of course, we were all rooting for you!” Marion added, raising her mug in salute. “You’re getting there.”

You laughed, feeling a warm flush of accomplishment. “Progress, right?”

“Absolutely,” Cara said, giving you a playful nudge. “I’d say you’re officially a skier now. Just don’t go challenging anyone to a race just yet. I know what this lot are like!”

“Agreed,” Marion said, looking over at James. “Let’s not have another air ambulance situation on our hands.”

James raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I learned my lesson. I’m here for moral support, not for reliving that disaster.”

As the group finished up their hot chocolates, readying themselves to return to the slopes, you felt a lightness in the air. The atmosphere was infinitely more comfortable without George’s glowering, Sam and Darren’s jibes and Elisa’s stony-faced judging. You turned back to Toto, who was now watching you with an affectionate smile. “What’s next, coach?” you asked.

“Do you want to tackle that run again? I want to see you take those turns like a pro,” Toto replied.

“Okay, but you’re coming with me again, right?” you asked, feeling a flicker of nervousness again.

“Of course,” he assured you, “I like the view when I ski behind you.”

“Very funny,” you said, “Okay, let’s do this thing.”

“Remember, slow and steady,” Toto reminded you as you started to make your way to the lift.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. No more Olympic tumbles,” you joked, rolling your eyes as Toto led the group back to the queue for the lift.

Once he was out of earshot, James leaned over, smirking. “You know, I think you’ve officially stolen Toto’s heart. Just look at him.”

Cara nudged him, laughing. “Are you jealous my love?”

“Not at all,” he protested, feigning offence. “Just stating what I see. But seriously, it’s good to see him in such high spirits.”

Marion nodded. “For sure, I never dreamt we would see him lying down in the snow making snow angels.”

Your cheeks flushed at their compliments and you glanced towards Toto, who was busy chatting animatedly with the lift operator. He turned, catching your eye and winked. Perhaps the group was right? When you’d been with George and gone to watch him race, Toto had always seemed serious, somewhat dour at times. Now he was out here smiling, laughing and throwing himself down into the snow without a care in the world. Life could take some crazy turns sometimes.

– – –

On the lift, you found yourself squashed between Toto and Marion, nerves creeping back in as the anticipation of the next run grew. Ever observant, Toto reached for your hand, squeezing it reassuringly as the lift approached the top.

Once you had disembarked, Toto turned to you with a smile. “Ready?”

You inhaled deeply, trying to steady yourself. “Do I have a choice?”

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “No, but you’ve got this.”

With that, you both pushed off together, gliding down the slope. You focused on his advice, slow and steady, controlling each turn and this time, something clicked. Instead of feeling anxious, you allowed yourself to enjoy the speed and the rush of cold air against your face as you flew down.

“See? Told you you’d get the hang of it!” Cara shouted from the terrace, where she was already unclipping her skis.

Toto laughed, his eyes sparkling with pride as he made his way over to you. “Next stop, the red runs. But first, hot chocolate?”

“Now you’re talking!” you replied, heart bursting with happiness. You’d never managed a full run without falling and you knew it was unlikely you’d pull it off twice. Carefully unclipping your skis beside Toto and Cara, you were grateful to be back on solid ground as you stepped onto the cafe terrace.

As Toto and James disappeared to get a round of hot chocolates, you settled down at one of the wooden tables beside Cara and Marion, noticing George and the rest of your group coming down the black run, all looking a bit dishevelled but laughing.

George’s laughter rang out and you caught the eye of Elisa, who seemed less than pleased with the men’s antics. “Looks like they survived after all,” you remarked, nudging Cara playfully.

“Barely!” she laughed. “They’ll probably be banging on about doing the black runs all day.”

“Lord spare me,” Marion groaned, eyeing her husband with mock exasperation.

You watched as the group came closer, coming to join you for your very early après ski. John had a huge grin on his face, animatedly recounting a moment when he had nearly wiped out while trying to keep pace with George. Sam and Darren were both clapping him on the back, clearly enjoying the show.

“What did we miss?” George asked, clipping his helmet on the back of the chair opposite you, his cheeks flushed from the cold and excitement.

“Oh, just the usual, me falling over about four hundred times,” you said, gesturing to the snow around you.

“Hey, we all have our talents,” he replied, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “But seriously, you look like you’re getting better. I saw you on that last run.”

“Thanks,” you replied, surprised at how cordial George was being.

“I also saw you making snow angels,” George said, his expression shifting for a moment as he glanced at Toto who was now returning with a tray of hot chocolate, James by his side. You could sense an underlying tension, but you brushed it aside.

“It had to be done,” you laughed, trying to keep the mood light.

As Toto and James settled at the table, passing out drinks, the group’s laughter rose again, cutting through the cold breeze. You’d been cautious about showing too much affection with Toto around George but now the chill was biting and you couldn’t resist shifting closer to Toto for warmth.

You glanced at George, now deep in conversation with Elisa, though something in his demeanour made you uneasy. Was it jealousy or something else? You shook it off, turning your attention back to the breathtaking view of the mountains surrounding you.

Toto leaned in, his voice low and warm. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, nestling closer to him. “Just a little cold.”

Pulling you closer, his arm wrapping around you with ease, “Are you sure it’s just the cold?” he asked softly.

You nodded, knowing he could see right through you. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just taking it all in.”

Toto’s gaze followed yours to George and Elisa. His jaw clenched briefly before he turned back to you, his expression softening. “If you need to get away, we can. No rush.”

You shook your head. “No, I’m having a great time,” you reassured him, lifting your hot chocolate with a smile. “And besides, I’m not missing out on this.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer. “Fair enough. Just say the word.”

As the group's chatter continued around you, you felt a fleeting pang watching George and Elisa. But then Toto squeezed your shoulder, anchoring you to the present.

"Ready for another run after this?" he asked.

"Absolutely," you replied, smiling up at him.

SATURDAY AFTERNOON

By the time you returned to the chalet, your muscles aching from a full morning of skiing followed by a boozy schnitzel-and-chips lunch, the heated pool had never appealed more. Toto had left you to change alone as he needed to wrap up some business with James and John, so you’d taken your time upstairs slipping into your swimsuit, savouring a few moments of solitude.

As you made your way down to the pool area, you could already hear the others' voices echoing around. Toto was perched on the edge, his legs dipping into the water as he was deep in conversation with James and John. Cara and Marion were leisurely swimming laps, their quiet chatter carrying over the gentle ripple of the water.

At the far end of the pool, Elisa lounged in a skimpy white bikini, her attention seemingly fixed on George, who hovered nearby, nodding along at whatever story she was spinning. She had been glued to his side all day, though George’s interest seemed half-hearted. Sam and Darren were sprawled on the lounge chairs behind them chatting away.

The instant you stepped into the warm pool, you sighed in relief. The tension in your body seemed to melt away as you found a quiet spot in the pool, closing your eyes to finally relax. Before long, though, Elisa’s voice drifted your way.

“Love your swimsuit,” she called over, her tone friendly enough, though something was off, “So classic.”

You returned her smile, choosing not to overthink it. Before you could respond, Cara, always quick to back you up, floated by. "Yes, a one-piece is always elegant. Sometimes bikinis can be a bit... much," Cara said, casting a sidelong glance at Elisa.

Marion gave a knowing laugh as she swam up beside Cara. "Especially when you’ve got a body like hers. No need to flaunt everything to look good."

Elisa’s mouth tightened for a fraction of a second, but the message was received. You exchanged a grateful glance with Cara and Marion, the two older women certainly had your back. Elisa’s smirk faltered, though the look she gave you made it clear she wasn’t backing down entirely.

Oblivious to yours and Elisa’s exchange, Toto, wrapping up his conversation with James, finally stood and wandered over to where you floated, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He crouched at the pool's edge, his eyes twinkling.

“How’s the water?” he asked, his gaze locked on you as if the rest of the world had momentarily disappeared.

“Perfect,” you said, letting the warmth relax you. “You should come in.”

He grinned, not needing to be asked twice. A second later, he jumped in, the splash hitting Elisa who squealed in annoyance. You couldn’t help but laugh and for a brief moment, you felt vindicated.

Elisa shot Toto an irritated look, but he seemed unbothered, floating over to you and discreetly wrapping an arm around your waist. “You’re not tired of me yet?” he teased softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Not even close,” you whispered back with a smile.

As you drifted together, your gaze wandered to the side of the pool where George sat beside Elisa, watching the two. Noticing his lingering looks, his companion leaned closer and whispered something in his ear, her eyes flicking to you before giving a self-satisfied smile.

Toto followed your gaze, catching George’s glare and his hold on you tightened slightly. His easygoing demeanour didn’t falter, but you could feel the subtle shift in his mood. “Come on,” he whispered, guiding you towards the far pool edge. “Let’s get some space, I’ll show you the sauna.”

Without drawing much attention, the two of you made your way out of the pool, changing out of your wet swimwear and wrapping yourselves in towels as you padded toward the sauna. The small wooden room was warm and inviting, the heat hitting you as soon as you stepped inside. Toto shut the door behind you and at long last, it was just the two of you.

You immediately sat down on the wooden bench, leaning back as the heat started to work its magic on your tired muscles. It was even better than the pool. You closed your eyes and sighed contently “This is heaven.”

“Are you not taking off your towel?” said Toto, sitting on the bench beside you with a creak, his hand resting on your thigh, the casual touch sending a shiver up your spine.

“Huh?” you said, opening your eyes to find a very naked Toto sitting beside you. “Is that a thing here? What if someone sees?”

That earned a deep laugh, “You’re concerned about someone seeing you naked… in a sauna?”

“Yes.” you said, “Why is that so funny?”

“It’s expected here. People will stare at you if you keep the towel on.” Toto teased, “But do what you want, it’s just me.”

Grateful that the dim light of the sauna concealed your creeping blush, you felt silly. “I never knew that, I thought that was a Scandinavian thing.”

Toto mused, stroking your thigh, “You make me laugh.”

“Glad I can keep you entertained,” you said dryly before standing up and whipping your towel off dramatically, baring all in front of him, “Happy now, Mr Wolff?”

“Very.” he said, gripping your hips and pulling you close to him, pressing a kiss to your bare stomach, “Come, sit down.”

Taking your seat once more, the heat enveloped you. This was exactly what you needed to cure your aching muscles. Noticing Toto grab his shoulder and wince, you leaned over and gently started massaging, your fingers gliding over his warm skin.

As your fingers worked their magic, you could feel the tension in Toto's shoulders begin to melt away beneath your touch. “Mmm, that’s good,” Toto said with a teasing grin, his voice low and smooth as he leaned back into your hands. “I might just make you my personal masseuse.”

“Oh, I see how it is. Is that how you plan to keep me around?” you quipped, continuing your gentle kneading. “By making me your travelling spa therapist?”

Toto chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the quiet sauna. “Perhaps. I could get used to this.”

You laughed, your fingers gliding down to his upper back, where the muscles were knotted. “Be careful, I might start charging.”

“Oh really?” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “How much?”

You giggled, the sound mingling with the warmth of the room. “Some cuddling tonight, maybe a ski lesson, another snorkel rescue mission?”

“Deal,” he said, nodding seriously before breaking into a grin. “Although you may have to wait until Summer for any more snorkel action.”

You snorted, “How did you manage to make that sound dirty? You’re lowkey such a dirty old man.”

“Old?” he feigned, “You didn’t call me old last night.”

“Touché.,” you said, admitting, “Last night was… I don’t know what to say.”

Toto turned and quirked an eyebrow, “That bad?”

“Shut up,” you said, playfully batting him on the shoulder before returning to massaging his muscled upper back, “You’re good and you know it.”

“You did tell me the sex on the yacht was the best you’d ever had.” He grinned, clearly enjoying this.

“Did I really?” you said, cringing slightly. “Well, top ten, I guess.”

“Ten?” he replied, grabbing your hand and dragging it down his chest, getting dangerously lower.

“Okay, top five,” you said, your breath quickening as you sensed where this was heading.

“That’s more like it,” he said, turning his head slightly to catch your eye. “But seriously, you should know that I felt the same way.”

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth that had little to do with the sauna. “High praise coming from someone so… old,” you replied with a teasing lilt.

His eyes glinted with mischief as he replied, “Old enough to know a good thing when I see it.”

Before you could respond, he pulled you around into his lap, capturing your lips with his in a soft, lingering kiss. When he finally pulled back, you both took a moment to breathe, your foreheads resting against each other. “Wow,” he said, his voice husky. “I could get used to that.”

You giggled softly, pressing your bare chest against his, feeling his heart pounding as much as yours was, “Me too.”

As you dipped for another kiss, laughter echoed from outside the sauna. In the heat of the moment you’d forgotten that the sauna was open to all.

“Great,” Toto murmured, rolling his eyes.

“I told you we should’ve brought the drinks!” Sam’s voice rang out, followed by Darren’s cheerful agreement. “Gotta stay hydrated.”

As they approached the door, you could hear them debating whether to just walk in. “Hold up, where did Toto go?” Darren suggested, his voice growing louder.

“Maybe we should put the towels back on?” you whispered to Toto, glancing down at your bare skin, feeling a rush of shyness wash over you.

“Maybe,” he replied with a grin, gripping your ass firmly, “but where’s the fun in that?” He looked at you with a glimmer of mischief, pulling you closer to him, covering your modesty with his hands, “I won’t let them see anything.”

Suddenly, the door swung open and Sam and Darren burst in, eyes wide with surprise. “Whoa!” Sam exclaimed, “Sorry to interrupt!”

“Yeah,” Darren added, his face furiously red before he span around dramatically, “We’ll come back later.”

You quickly reached for your towel, as Toto shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “We were just enjoying the heat. No big deal.”

“Right,” Sam said, desperately looking anywhere but in front of him. “We’ll just grab a drink and give you some space. Would you like anything?”

You could feel your cheeks heat up even more, glancing at Toto, who was doing his best to keep a straight face. “We’re okay for now,” you replied, still smiling but feeling the warmth of embarrassment.

“Suit yourselves,” Sam said, stumbling as he turned to head back outside. “Sorry again boss.”

As the door swung shut, Toto looked at you, a mixture of amusement and exasperation on his face. “Well, that was a great way to kill the mood.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, carefully lifting yourself off Toto’s lap and returning to your seat beside him, “I suppose we’ll have to pick up where we left off later?”

“Definitely,” he said, his eyes twinkling with promise.

You settled back onto the bench, rewrapped your towel and leaned your head on his shoulder, letting the gentle steam of the sauna envelop you both. So much for a moment alone, but you knew that you’d have time later that evening.

SATURDAY EVENING

Dinner that night was a lively affair, the long wooden table filled with laughter and the rich aroma of fondue. The fire crackled in the background, adding warmth to the room. Marion and John, ever the social butterflies, kept the conversation flowing smoothly, while Greta and Klaus flitted around the table, ensuring the wine glasses were constantly topped up.

Sam and Darren, who were usually more vocal, sat noticeably quieter across from you and Toto. You caught their occasional glances and exchanged a knowing look with Toto, both of you aware of what was on their minds.

Once dinner plates were cleared away, Marion stood up with a gleam in her eye. "Earlier, Toto suggested a games night!" she announced, clapping her hands together with enthusiasm. "And as you all know, I love a good wager. How about we start with charades?"

Excited murmurs spread through the group. Greta handed out pens and paper and soon the room filled with the sound of scribbling as everyone jotted down increasingly ridiculous charade suggestions. You glanced at Toto, wondering if he had something difficult planned for his picks. He caught your eye and winked, of course, he wouldn’t make this easy.

As the group settled in, Marion distributed a bowl for everyone to drop their slips of paper into. Just as you were about to dive into the game, Marion, her voice tinged with mischief, turned to the group, her eyes landing on George. “You know, this reminds me of that night on Toto’s yacht when we played Never Have I Ever,” she said with a grin.

John perked up immediately. “Ah yes, that was quite a night,” he said. You gulped as you recalled George taking things too far that night.

George immediately shifted in his seat, already knowing where this was headed. His cheeks flushed as Marion continued, unable to resist. “George, you were so embarrassed!” she teased, nudging him. “What was it you said during that game that had everyone in stitches?”

James chimed in, his grin widening. “Something about walking in on Toto in the garage in a, let’s say, compromising position.”

George’s face turned bright red as everyone started to chuckle, “I was tipsy, alright? I said more than I should’ve,” he muttered, clearly still embarrassed from that particular memory. “Sorry again Toto.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Toto reassured him, trying to stay stoic.

At that, Darren and Sam exchanged a look and Sam couldn’t resist joining in the teasing. “Speaking of compromising positions,” he said, leaning back in his chair, a smirk spreading across his face. “Darren and I had quite the walk-in moment earlier today.”

“Oh no,” you murmured under your breath, feeling the heat rise to your face as you realized where this was going. It was your turn to be embarrassed.

Sam leaned in, his voice low but loud enough for everyone to hear. “Let’s just say we walked in on Toto… in a very compromising situation.”

Darren snickered. “Yeah, in the sauna of all places.”

All eyes turned toward you and Toto as a ripple of nervous laughter spread across the group. Sam and Darren were younger members of the team and it was rather bold of them to tease their boss in his own home.

Toto's face tightened and his jaw clenched slightly, “Sam...” he warned.

Sam, undeterred, kept going. “Oh, don’t worry, Toto wasn’t alone.” He winked at the group, his grin only growing wider.

“Oh?” John said, sparking up, clearly enjoying where this was headed.

Darren laughed, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah, turns out the sauna wasn’t just for relaxing, if you know what I mean.”

The group erupted into laughter, Marion gasped in mock shock, though a grin tugged at her lips. “Toto! And here I thought you were the gentleman of the group.”

Sam, encouraged by the reactions, waggled his eyebrows and added, “You should’ve seen his face. The man was living his best life.”

George glowered, throwing you an angry look before Elisa tapped him on the arm, whispering something in his ear that seemed to calm him down, as she did earlier.

Toto, his patience visibly thinning, folded his arms, his voice low and sharp. “Alright, that’s enough.”

Sam and Darren exchanged a glance, still amused but sensing they were treading on thin ice. “Okay, okay,” Darren said, holding his hands up, “But you can’t blame us, you did say we could use the sauna any time.”

“Yeah, next time maybe put a do not disturb sign?” Sam quipped, though his voice had softened, knowing they’d pushed Toto to his limit.

“Or a Mercedes-branded tie over the door handle,” said George, joining in with his friends, having stayed quiet until now. You shot him a look and he shrugged, not worried about angering Toto.

Toto shot the three younger men a hard look before leaning back in his chair, clearly done with their teasing. “I’ll remember that for next time,” he said flatly, his voice edged with annoyance.

Marion, sensing the tension, tried to keep the situation light-hearted. “Oh, you three,” she said, shaking her head at Sam, Darren and George. “Let them have their fun in peace.”

“Alright, alright, we’ll drop it,” Sam said, suitably chastised.

“Well then,” John jumped up, clapping his hands, “I think we’ve embarrassed enough people for one night. Shall we get on with charades?”

Everyone eagerly shifted their focus back to the impending game of charades, following John’s lead as he moved to the living room.

“We’ll split into two teams,” Marion announced, “Who’s ready to make a fool of themselves?”

The group quickly divided into teams and took their places on opposite sofas. It was men vs women, with you, Cara, Marion and Elisa teaming up against Toto, George, John, James, Sam and Darren.

“Hang on, I think the boys have an advantage!” said Marion, reaching out to grab her husband by the crook of his arm, “John joins us.”

John shrugged his shoulders before plopping himself down on the sofa beside his wife, “Sorry guys, I have no choice.”

“That’s okay, we’ll still win.” said James, “Cara is an automatic handicap.”

“You are awful, you’re sleeping on the balcony tonight” quipped Cara, throwing her husband a dirty look.

– – –

During a lull in the game, you found yourself alone in the kitchen, grabbing another bottle of wine for the group, Greta and Klaus having gone to bed for the night. The soft sound of footsteps behind you made you turn and there was George, standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“Hey,” he said quietly, leaning against the counter.

“Hey,” you replied, suddenly feeling like you were back in the past, caught in a moment that didn’t quite fit the present. George had been giving you funny looks all evening but Elisa had been glued to him so you hadn’t spoken much.

There was an awkward pause before George finally spoke again. “So, I guess this is really happening, huh?”

You frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

He glanced towards the doorway leading back to the others, then back at you. His voice lowered, more serious now. “You and Toto. It’s serious, isn’t it?”

The question landed heavily between you, far weightier than it should’ve been. The conversation felt loaded, fraught with things left unsaid. You thought you’d been clear when you last spoke in your flat, and you both had supposedly made peace with the past. Now, it seemed like old wounds were still festering beneath the surface.

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “George… we’ve been through this.”

“I know,” he said quickly, cutting you off with a sigh. He shoved his hands into his pockets as if bracing himself. “But seeing you two. I don’t know. Guess I thought I’d be more okay with it by now.”

His words hung in the air, the weight of them pulling you both into an uncomfortable silence. This wasn’t fair, to you or to him. You’d thought that chapter was closed and he’d moved on with Elisa, even if their dynamic was a little strange at times.

Before you could respond, Toto appeared in the doorway, his expression sharp as he took in the scene. “Everything okay in here?”

The air between the three of you crackled with tension.

George straightened, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, we’re fine.”

Toto’s eyes didn’t leave George’s face. “Good,” he said coolly. “Look, I know this has not been easy for anyone but we are all adults and you have Elisa now, don’t forget. I invited you here because I want things to be easier going forward, for all of us. And for what it’s worth, I value your friendship, George. I know I’ve let you down.”

George didn’t back down, but after a tense beat, he gave a curt nod, not saying a word and walked past Toto, brushing his shoulder as he went. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

Toto turned to you, his expression softening. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, though the knot in your chest hadn’t fully loosened. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.”

He studied your face for a moment longer, as if searching for something unsaid before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered for a beat longer than usual.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

You didn’t ask what he was apologising for, whether it was for inviting George, for the difficult position you were both in or for the emotions this trip had stirred up. Maybe it was all of it.

– – –

The night wound down with everyone in good spirits, but you couldn’t shake the weirdness of the conversation in the kitchen with George. After the games and the laughter, you found yourself in the bedroom with Toto, tucked up in bed while he got ready.

“Do you think that George still has feelings for me?” you asked as Toto made his way out of the bathroom.

He didn’t react at first, remaining silent as he pulled back the covers and slipped in beside you, his expression unreadable as he rested against the headboard. “I know he does,” he said quietly.

You looked at him, waiting for more, but he didn’t elaborate.

“Toto…” you began, the words coming out before you could stop them. “Does it bother you?”

He sighed, finally turning to face you, “It doesn’t bother me that he has feelings for you,” he said after a moment. “But it bothers me that you seem worried about it.”

You swallowed, unsure of what to say.

“I trust you,” Toto added, his tone calm but firm. “But if George’s feelings are going to be an issue, we need to deal with it..”

You nodded, appreciating his straightforwardness. “You’re right. I just… I didn’t expect it to be this complicated.”

“Life’s always complicated,” he said, “But we’ll figure it out.”

You turned away from Toto, your back to him, lost in thought. It wasn’t long before you felt him wrap an arm around you, pulling you close, but the warmth that usually comforted you felt different tonight. There was an unspoken tension and as sleep slowly crept in, you wondered if this was just the beginning of something much more complicated.

Taglist: @prettiest-at-the-party @noooway555 @annewithaneofthegreengable @xoscar03 @totowolfffcheco @justzluv @kravitzwhore @bborra @a-beaverhausen@amandadesantasworld @formulaal

#toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #toto wolff x y/n #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #george russell x reader #George Russell x you #yachtgirlsummer

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justauthoring · 5 months ago

Text

and i wonder... who? [6]

somehow, you find yourself torn between the two hottest guys at your school and you have no idea who to choose. loosely based off of operation: true love where geto is eunhyeuk and gojo is dohwa :)

a/n: sorry for the delayed update! life kind of took a sporadic turn lol and the next few chapters might take a bit but i'll try my best <3

pairing: geto suguru x f!reader, gojo satoru x f!reader, satosugu x f!reader

tag list: @username23356-blog - @anxious-chick - @novacaneformybrain - @mandysfanfics - @rottmntrulesall - @voiceofnoreturn - @rh-tg1 - @ky0mybeloved - @black-swan-blog27 - @ladytamayolover - @the8ate - @maybe-a-bi-with - @dudalo100 - @reese-is-right - @6lonely-town6 - @its-a-damn-blue-brick - @kimi01985 - @dorusken - @siimp4youu - @catobsessedlady - @paper--angel - @animechick555 - @meshiinuma - @xxannyxx - @kaeyaviado - @kochochan-shinobulvrrs - @ichikanu - @valeriinee - @yourfavepookiebear let me know if you'd like to added! also i still don't know how to fix the tags - it works in editing but doesn't link some when i post it. if anyone knows how to fix this, please let me know!

Gojo knew exactly what Geto was up to and he had no intentions of letting him win.

He really thought he was being so suave and kind.

Gojo could see right through the bullshit.

That in of itself was truly Geto’s biggest mistake – given how often Gojo spent his time bullshitting other people, it wasn’t hard to tell when others were doing it. Sure, Gojo had no intention of doing that to you, but the fact remained plain and simple; people were gullible and fell for Gojo’s ‘charm’ every time just like he could see right through their sweet smiles and kind words.

Everybody wanted the same thing in the end and no one really truly cared about him. At least, not as a person.

Except for you.

You were different. He could tell immediately. The second he’d bumped into you that day and instead of grovelling on your knees with an apology like every single other person would’ve–you got mad. You actually got angry at him. You weren’t all fake smiles and sweet words, and that’s when Gojo instantly knew that you were different. You weren’t just automatically nice to him because of who he was and because you thought you could get something from him; no, you were nice to him because you actually cared.

Sure, it was fun teasing you. Fun seeing your face grow embarrassed and you stutter over your words, but what Gojo liked best was when you thought no one was watching and you’d have this look on your face. This concentrated, twisted face that was completely you in every meaning of the word.

Truth be told, Gojo thought it was beautiful.

He thought you were beautiful.

So, yeah, sure… It was a bummer when he realized he wasn’t the only guy who had eyes for you–and he wasn’t talking about Sukuna. Sukuna hadn’t even been a threat before you’d broken up with him. Just a few questions here and there and it was abundantly clear to Gojo that Sukuna was a horrible boyfriend and although he hadn’t really understood at the time why you’d still stuck with him, he wasn’t worried about getting you to break up with your loser boyfriend.

And hey! Then you went and did it yourself.

Now, it wasn’t like he was saying Geto was a threat—because he wasn’t. Of course he wasn’t. But, it had been just the tiniest bit annoying (yeah, that was the word) for Gojo to find out that he wasn’t the only one who’d realized how amazing you were and if the looks on Geto’s face were anything to go by, it seemed Geto was just as down bad as he was. And sure, he’d been peeved when he’d seen that you’d, at some point, borrowed Geto’s hoodie–and washed it for him, and Geto had been at your house–but it’s fine.

These were all just tiny blimps and Gojo knew he’d be able to win you over easily.

Not that you were just a prize to be won. That certainly was not it.

Gojo’s intentions weren’t just for the sake of it—he’d said it already, hadn’t he?

He thought you were beautiful, kind, funny (the list went on) and you were the only one who had ever been real around him. And Gojo wasn’t about to give that up for anything.

So, no, Gojo wasn’t stupid. He could see Geto’s plan from a mile away to sway you over and he had no intention of losing.

You’re starting to think inviting both Geto and Gojo to hang out wasn’t such a great idea.

And it wasn’t because you didn’t want to hang out with them. No, that certainly was not it. Although you’d only known them for a short amount of time, you considered them friends and you hoped they felt the same.

It’s just… well, maybe you underestimated just how much the two didn’t like each other.

It definitely didn’t seem like they were all that concerned with hiding it from you either; at least not anymore.

If anything, it felt like a constant battle between them all night, with the winning side tipping towards the both of them back and forth. Like a relentless, painful game of tug of war.

One second it was Geto tugging you towards a ride, deliberately leaving Gojo trailing behind, and then the next it was Gojo getting you to try some sort of sweet he’d bought and purposefully making sure that Geto could see him spoon-feeding you. You’re not really sure why they’re tug of war is centered around you, but you were tired of being the bait every time.

Now, sitting on a bench, you could physically feel the two of them glaring at each other from over your head on either side of you.

“Ugh!” you cry, pushing yourself to a sudden stand before spinning around to face them. They both start at your sudden outburst, wide eyes falling on you, before flinching when you shove your finger in both of their faces. “I can’t take the two of you! Constantly fighting all night! This was supposed to be fun but it’s been nothing but awkward and tense all night!”

Lips parting, they slowly glance at each other.

Gojo is the first to speak up, pouting; “but Y/N! He’s been trying to hog you all night.”

“Tch,” Geto scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest as he rolls his eyes. “As if. At least I don’t try to feed her every snack I find.” Then, turning to Gojo, Geto smirks; “what are you? Her mother?”

“I’m being considerate for your information,” Gojo growls, leaning towards Geto without missing a beat. “Did you even bother to ask her if the rides you dragged her on were ones she wanted to go on? I’m pretty sure—”

“This is exactly what I mean!” You cut in, holding your hands out toward them in exasperation. At the dumb look they both give you, you throw your hands in the air; “that’s it. I’m going to the washroom and when I come back, the two of you better have made up or else I’m leaving.”

At that, both of their eyes widened.

When neither of them say anything, you just sigh.

“I’ll be back.”

Shoulders slumping, you turn, not bothering to give them another glance before making your way towards the bathroom. It takes you a minute to find the washroom and it’s a little far from Geto and Gojo, but you figure the distance just gives them more time to work out their issues, so you’re not worried. After you’re done, you wash your hands, humming softly to yourself as you dry your hands before making your way out.

Only, you find yourself bumping into another.

“Oh, I’m so–”

Your words, however, fall flat the second you see who you bumped into.

“Su-Sukuna—”

Not wasting a second, Sukuna grabs you by the arm; “can we talk for a second?”

You step back instantly. “I’m actually here with—”

“Geto and Gojo,” he cuts in, voice sharp. His grip never lessens despite you trying to pull away and then suddenly you find yourself being dragged around the side of the washroom, Sukuna pulling you into a more secluded area away from prying eyes. You try not to stumble on your feet as he drags you, forcing the both of you to a stop the second you find your footing and casting a nervous glance around you when you realize no one really can see either of you.

“I know,” Sukuna finishes the second the both of you stop. Your eyes fall on him at his tone, leaning back when you see the nasty glare on his face. “Didn’t take you long to move on, did it?”

Lips parting, you’re baffled; “Su–Sukuna, did you follow me here?”

He scoffs, as if that’s absurd. “I overhead you at school. I invited Mei Mei with me,” he explains with a shrug. “She’s… somewhere.”

Annoyed, you raise your hand, grabbing the one holding your arm and ripping it off of you by the wrist. Sukuna watches you with thin lips. “That still sounds like following me,” you hiss, narrowing your eyes up at him. “And what? Just wanted to wait until I was alone before you cornered me?”

“You’re being dramatic,” Sukuna scoffs. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

Stepping back from him, you cross your arms. “Why?” You bluntly ask, tilting your head. “Because I have nothing to say to you.”

“I want to finish our conversation from last time,” Sukuna explains, stepping towards you.

“There’s nothing to say,” you state, putting emphasis on the word ‘nothing’ to make it clear. “I broke up with you. That’s it. And I have no intention of “continuing” our conversation,” you make the air quotes as you speak, “when you gave me bruises the last time we spoke. I’ve had to sweat in sweaters and hoodies all week and was only able to properly cover them with makeup today.”

Frowning, Sukuna swallows thickly.

“And why do you even care?” You ask, shaking your head as you shove at his chest lightly. “I moved on too quickly? Didn’t you cheat on me?”

Taking your wrist in his hand, Sukuna’s eyes flash, like he’s going to do something, before he stops himself, face falling briefly. “What do you want me to do?” And oddly, his voice sounds different; twisted and distressed… almost, desperate? “You want me to beg? Get on my knees and beg for you to reconsider?”

Well, that certainly wasn’t what you were expecting.

Still, you find no true argument with his words.

“Yeah,” you say without hesitation, straightening your back out as you step towards him. “Kneel.”

And there’s the briefest moment of pause, stilling and suffocating silence, before you feel a sharp sting across your cheek.

“Well, this is getting nowhere.”

Huffing, Geto shakes his head; “clearly.”

Silence follows. Despite Geto’s sarcasm, Gojo shockingly doesn’t retort in return, and then, unfortunately, Geto finds himself sitting there in silence, Gojo doing the same beside him, the both of them waiting for you to return.

Even if that means you’ll all just end up leaving because Geto and Gojo couldn’t work out their differences for one night.

This certainly wasn’t what Geto imagined for your first date with him – upsetting you enough that you’d leave… but hey, Gojo wasn’t supposed to be here either so it’s not entirely his fault.

…Right?

Sinking further against the bench, Geto lets his head lean back, glancing up at the darkening sky.

A minute passes. Then another. Then another.

Geto frowns. Sitting back up, he glances in the direction you’d left, brows furrowing when he doesn’t see you peeking through the crowd. A quick glance at his phone tells him you’ve been gone for at least ten minutes, maybe more… it didn’t take you that long to go to the washroom, did it?

“She’s taking a long time, isn’t she?”

Face falling, Geto glances at Gojo. If he was thinking the same thing, then…

With a split second decision, the both of them stand up, not wasting a second before heading in the direction they saw you leave in. Geto sees the sign to the washroom after two minutes of walking and his panic really starts to settle in then, eyes frantically glancing around to see even a flash of you somewhere.

But you’re nowhere to be found.

“Can you see her?” Geto asks, turning to Gojo beside him.

The white-haired boy is frowning; “no. She’s not here.”

Chest tightening, Geto tries to ignore the racing of his heart as he frantically glances around. The park isn’t that busy but still, it’s overwhelming him just how many people he’s seeing that aren’t you… Where could you have gone in the ten minutes since you’d gone to the washroom?

Then, briefly, Geto sees a familiar head of blueish-white hair.

It’s Mei Mei.

Which meant…

“Gojo,” Geto calls sharply, pulling the boy's attention on him.

“What?” Gojo calls, stepping towards him. “Did you find her? I can’t see her anywhere.”

“No, but I know where she might be.”

Not bothering to explain, Geto starts to walk towards Mei Mei, Gojo quickly moves to follow after him, but he makes it a total of five steps before Gojo is suddenly calling your name. Startled and confused, Geto glances back at Gojo only to see the guy heading to the right and as Geto’s eyes trail upwards and sees you, he swears he sees red.

What?

What… just happened?

Bringing a hand to your cheek, you stare back at Sukuna in disbelief. To his credit, even he seems a bit shocked by his actions, but the anger easily takes over any shock and his face twists into something nasty as he takes the wrist of the hand holding your cheek and tugs you towards him.

Your mind is numb. You can feel your eyes welling with tears, not so much because of the pain but because of the sudden fear radiating through your veins and the way it feels like you can’t breathe, but yet your body refuses to move. You know you should—you know you should be trying to get as far away from Sukuna as possible, but your body won’t listen.

Neither will your mind.

“Me!” Sukuna cries out, sound estranged as he squeezes your wrist hard. “Kneel for you?! Are you insane? You should be thanking me for ever even considering giving you the light of day when you’re nothing but—”

But Sukuna never finishes his words.

One second, he’s in front of you and the next he isn’t. You’re left standing there, confused, cheek still hurting, wrist aching, arms left before you, before there’s another set of hands pressing into you but this time they’re warm and gentle and soft and wait—

You’ve felt these hands before.

You blink and then suddenly Gojo’s familiar blue eyes are staring into your own with concern, lips parting as he asks you what you’re sure is if you’re okay even though you can’t hear him actually say the words.

But you can’t think of how to respond to him because your eyes slowly shift to his left and you finally see Sukuna. Only, he’s on his back and Geto is over top of him, gripping him by the front of his shirt before swinging his free hand back and punching him square in the face.

Oh.

“—Y/N. Y/N! Look at me! Are you okay?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn back to Gojo. “I’m… I’m okay.”

His hands leave you and a start of panic floods you, but then his palm is pressing gently into your stinging cheek and your eyes flutter as it instantly soothes the ache; even if a little.

“Your cheek is red,” Gojo mumbles, frowning. “That fucking asshole.”

And his narrowed eyes glance back at Sukuna.

That reminds you—

Your eyes shift and Geto is still punching Gojo and your face falls when you see his knuckles are slightly red—bloody.

“Geto…” You call but your voice comes out as a whisper, panic crawling up your throat. Geto lands another hit on Sukuna and you swear you hear the sound of his fist making contact with your cheek and the panic deepens because something about seeing Geto that angry scares you. “Geto–please… please—!”

You’re stepping forward even as Gojo tries to pull you back, but you manage to catch a grip on the back of Geto’s sweater just as a high-pitched scream echoes. Mei Mei comes running in just as Geto finally focuses on your touch, your knuckles turning white from how hard you’re clutching onto his shirt.

Breathless, panting, Geto lets his eyes fall on you, then Gojo who nods at him, before falling back on Sukuna who has a bloody nose and what looks like a black eye and then, finally, Mei Mei who is falling on her knees beside him.

“What did you do?” She cries, voice shrieking. Her watery eyes meet Geto’s eyes directly. “What did you do!”

Stepping back, Geto stumbles, and Gojo moves to steady him just as you reach for his hand.

You frown at how bruised it is.

Gojo watches the interaction for a moment before speaking up; “we should probably get her out of here.”

Still somewhat breathless, Geto nods; “yeah,” he calls out, voice hoarse.

Gojo sets a hand against your back and Geto is threading his bruised fingers through yours, and the both of them tug you out, not letting you see Sukuna and ignoring Mei Mei’s cries of indignation.

And the three of you don’t stop once.

“That was honestly kind of badass.”

“Satoru.”

“I mean it!”

Snorting, Geto rolls his eyes, before meeting Gojo’s. “Thanks.”

Grinning, Gojo sends him a thumbs up.

“This isn’t a joke,” you cut in, carefully wrapping a bandage around Geto’s knuckles. “You could get in serious trouble for this if he tells the school. Or worse, if Mei Mei does.”

“Psh,” Gojo laughs, “they won’t.”

You turn to him in disbelief. “And how do you know that?”

“If Sukuna says something, he’ll not only be a snitch but his reputation will be ruined. I mean, he lost… badly. He didn’t even get one hit in,” Gojo explains with a grin, stepping towards you and Geto who are sitting on your couch. “There’s no way he’d ever admit to that. And Mei Mei won’t either because she’ll do anything Sukuna says.”

Biting your lip, you take in Gojo’s explanation — honestly, you couldn’t find any fault in his explanation.

“Besides,” Geto speaks up, eyes focused on you. “He deserved it. For hitting you.”

Sitting on the single chair across from you, Gojo lets out a heavy breath; “ditto. The guys a dick.”

Frowning, you set Geto’s hand down, now fully bandaged, hugging yourself as you glance at your feet.

Geto and Gojo glance at each other.

“What happened?” Geto asks after a moment, voice low.

Pinching your arms slightly, you sigh.

“Y/N,” Gojo pushes, “come on.”

“I don’t even know.” You breathe after a moment, shoulders slumping. “I was just leaving the washroom and then I bumped into him and when I tried to get away, he just… grabbed me. I didn’t think–... I didn’t think he get that mad.”

Meeting each other's eyes, Geto speaks up first; “what did he want?”

“He wanted… to get back together,” you choose not to mention the part when he insinuated you were easy by being with Geto and Gojo… that would only egg them on further. And even if Geto decided he didn’t want to get his hands anymore bloody, you couldn’t count on Gojo feeling the same way. “When I told him no, he asked me if I wanted him to beg. I said yes.”

There’s a stunned silence, then Gojo laughs. You blink at him, surprised, having expected they’d curse you out for being so stupid to try and talk back to Sukuna, but Gojo is laughing and when you turn back to Geto, he’s smirking.

You bite back a smile.

“Nice,” Gojo snorts. “The man could be knocked down a peg or two.”

You just nod to yourself, secretly really happy they both liked your confidence.

But then, you remember what you’d originally been saying; “anyways… After that, he—... slapped me. I was shocked and my body wouldn’t move, so he grabbed him and truthfully I don’t know what he would’ve done but you guys got there before he could.” Hesitating a second, you meet both of their eyes. “Thank you.”

Gojo nods, but Geto just glances at you, then, you watch as his eyes lower towards your arm.

Your back straightens.

“Is that the only time he’s hurt you?”

Eyes widening, you freeze. “W-What?”

Reaching forward, Geto takes your wrist in his own—instantly, you notice how much more gentle his touch is. His fingers loop around the length of your wrist but he doesn’t squeeze or pull, and you follow his lead, despite your nerves, easily as he shifts your arm, moving it so it's raised. He then takes his free hand and rubs at your arm.

You watch with parted lips as he rubs the foundation you’d put there clean off, revealing a faint and healing bruise.

“It’s why you were wearing sweaters all week, yeah?” Geto asks, meeting your gaze with lidded, dark eyes.

Swallowing thickly, you nod.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Gojo cuts in, pulling your attention away from Geto and on him as his face tenses.

“I’ll help you.” Geto adds, letting your arm fall softly by your side, nodding over at Gojo.

You watch the two of them for a moment, before realizing;

“Hey!” You suddenly call, ignoring the mood as you smile at them. “You two are getting along!”

Geto and Gojo stare at you blankly.

“That’s what you’re concerned with?” Geto asks incredulously.

“Why not?” You laugh, shaking your head. “This is what I wanted all night!,” then, lowering your voice, you add; “even if it is bonding over talk of murder…”

There’s a beat of silence, then, Geto snorts, a second later, Gojo follows by a laugh of his own. You all glance at each other for a moment longer, before bursting out in a collective laugh, your head falling back as you clutch at your stomach, giggling.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #getou suguru #getou suguru x reader #gojo x reader #getou x reader #satosugu #satosugu x reader

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sunflowerwinds · 10 months ago

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this love [h.c] | chapter four

summary: after the events of last night, you’re living in bliss with hazel: sharing secret kisses and gentle touches. you and hazel try a few new things. when isabel catches the two of you, an unsettling realization comes into play.

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: a lot of affection, blushy adorable sapphics, smut — fingering (r! receiving), discussions about homophobia, inexperienced! reader, knight! hazel is forever going to be the death of me.

word count: 6.1K

a/n: first post of the new year! i’m so incredibly sorry for the delay for this guys. life has been so insanely weird lately and i missed writing my sweet girls <3 new year’s resolution to try and post a lot more for yall. enjoy my loves ♥︎

‘this love’ masterlist

Time is sacred.

You never paid attention to time until Hazel. It either froze or went by entirely too fast when you were with her. Especially now that your relationship with her was anything but professional. Yes, of course, you were both extremely careful with how you acted towards one another when Isabel or any of the guards were around. Keeping your distance but stealing longing glances until you rounded a corner where there wasn’t a soul in sight and kissed until you couldn’t breathe.

The first week of being with her like this was indescribable. You never knew you could experience this amount of happiness within yourself. Though it took a few days for you both to become comfortable with yourselves.

The first day was on edge. You awoke that next morning to Hazel’s perfectly sculpted face pressed into your velvety pillows to match your title as royalty. As you stared at her cupid's bow, an uncomfortable amount of guilt settled within you.

What would your mother think? What would Isabel think? What would the kingdom think if they found out the princess was in fact more different than they thought. That was you were a sapphic and would not want to be wed to a prince, but instead a woman that was a knight.

You were afraid. Heart-aching, soul-crushing, overwhelmingly afraid for the future.

But the moment Hazel opened her eyes and sent you a tired smile in your direction, you felt a wave of relief flush over you.

“Morning, princess,” Hazel spoke through a stretch and a yawn.

“Morning,” you reply shyly as you brushed your tousled hair out of your face.

“Are you okay?” Hazel hesitantly raised a hand to caress your puffy cheeks from your well-rested slumber.

You can’t help but lean your cheek into her warm yet slightly calloused palm.

“Yeah. I’m just thinking.” You respond truthfully to her question.

Hazel caressed the apple of your cheeks, watching as the beam from the windows highlighted the back of your head to reveal your frizzy hairs. A bright angelic halo of sorts.

“About last night?”

You nod as it was true but there was so much more. Your half-truths were weighing on your chest uncomfortably.

“What happens now?” You question as you’ve never experienced anything of the sort.

Hazel shakes her head as she continues to caress the side of your cheek.

“Let’s just stay in the moment. It’s gentle here with you, princess.” Hazel whispers with nothing but kindness in her voice.

You simply smile tiredly and inch yourself more into her if that was even possible. You could feel her abdomen pressing into your own through the thin material of her shirt. Your arms are close to your chest as she continues to caress your face with delicacy.

A beat passed before you heard a soft knock at your bedroom door. You sat up with a jolt at the noise, practically snapping your neck to look at Hazel who, too, had a panicked expression on her face.

“Who is it?” You call out as you run a hand over your frizzy bed hair.

“Isabel! Remember? You wanted to talk about Hazel this morning.?” Isabel’s confused and muffled voice flowed through the door.

No. You, in fact, had not remembered. You were too busy kissing and snuggling Hazel.

Hazel mouthed to you with a cocky smile on her face; “me?”

You silently shush her with a playful shove to her shoulder as you shake your head. Hazel placed a kiss on your shoulder as she chuckled quietly at your embarrassed flushed cheeks.

“Isabel, can you meet me in the dining room? I’m not… presentable at the moment.” You nervously laugh, fiddling with a loose strand on your elegant covers.

Another beat of deafening silence.

“Alright. How long will you be?” Isabel sounded extremely hesitant from behind the door.

Guilt settled in your gut. You were going to tell her eventually. Maybe. You weren't sure if it was worth the risk. Yes, Isabel had never once showed you any sort of aggression or hatred towards anything but you never knew how someone could be when you revealed that you were, in fact, a sapphic.

“Only ten minutes. I promise.” You assure her, glancing at Hazel who seemed a bit weary.

“I'll be in the dining room then,” Isabel borderline mumbles through the door.

Once you heard her footsteps recede past your bedroom and down the lengthy hallway, you let out a sigh of relief. One of your hands pressed over your rapid-beating heart to try and relax your anxious thoughts. Hazel was about to tease you about how you were going to be talking about her with Isabel but as soon as she noticed your shaking hands, it was no longer amusing.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Hazel’s voice whispers as she notices how hard your breathing became. Her hand gently caresses at the side of your face.

“I-I don’t know what I’m going to tell her, Hazel. She’d—“

“You don’t have to tell her anything if you don’t want to. She is not obligated to know, princess.” Hazel assured you.

You shook your head before replying; “she’s my friend. I trust her.”

“I understand. If you wish to tell her, that is okay with me but,” Hazel licked her lips as she paused her words to try and find the right ones. “Are you going to be okay with it? With any sort of reaction that could happen after you tell her; bad or good?”

Yes, for the good. No; for the bad. Your mind was flipping back and forth. You were about ninety percent certain that Isabel would be okay with you and you and Hazel’s relationship. That small percentage of the gut-wrenching possibility that she could despise you forever was holding you back from saying ‘yes’.

“I won't tell her. Yet, at least.” You said simply.

“And that’s okay.” Hazel’s gentle tone reassured your buzzing anxiety.

You nod slowly, a smile spreading onto your face. Hazel’s lips curled as well, leaning forward to kiss your cheek softly.

After reluctantly getting out of the bed, though Hazel’s lips were a painful temptation, you met up with Isabel in the dining room for breakfast. Linda and Nina cooked you and Isabel eggs with slices of bread on the side with a few choices of homemade jams from the fruits growing in the garden.

Hazel had to have been in the knights quarters by now as you kissed her goodbye before making your way to lie to your only friend. Isabel had already begun spreading the blueberry jam onto the wheat bread with an excited look on her face.

“What happened in the garden?” Isabel questioned.

“Um, well,” you start as you pick at your over-easy eggs to try and remember what you and Hazel had come up with, “we kind of got into an argument about why she was upset with me. We talked it out and now we’re all good. I think we’re closer now because of it.”

Yeah, her tongue in your mouth ‘close’.

Isabel nodded along before tilting her head with furrowed brows. “What exactly did you two talk about?”

“It was nothing really. We’re okay now is all that matters.” You emphasized to the honey haired beauty.

Isabel seemed to not really believe what you were saying and you were internally panicking and hoped that she would move on. Thankfully, she just nodded and continued to eat brunch with you. She moved on to tell you that she enjoyed seeing her family so much that she was hoping to be able to leave the palace on her own to stay with them for a few more days.

“Bel, oh my god. Of course,” your eyes soften at her beaming eyes.

God, it was eating at you how you could lie to someone as incredibly sweet as she was.

“Okay,” she said through giddy laughter as she took a bite of her slice of bread, “I’ll pack clothing for the trip after breakfast. Thank you so much.”

“What did I tell you about the ‘thank you’s?” You raised your eyebrows at her, pointing at her with a fork.

“I know, I know. I just…” Isabel sighed as she looked like she was stuck on her words. Her eyes were following all across your features and it caused you to mess with your flyaway hairs subconsciously.

“What?” You let out a soft chuckle, avoiding her eyes.

“You seem brighter today.” Isabel admits with a sweet smile.

Another stab to the heart. This really wasn’t going to be easy on you, was it?

A few days followed and you grew more and more comfortable with being this intimate with the charming knight. The kisses were heavier and the touches lingered for longer.

This beautiful morning, you forced yourself to get up from the safe space of the soft bed and got ready for the day. Hazel strangely enough kept her distance from you as you got ready on your own. Isabel was still in town with her family so the palace was eerily empty; other than the knights, of course.

You brushed it off as this was probably just as new to her as it was to you. Two women being intimate like this wasn’t unheard of but it was drastically shamed upon. The thought of the two of you being exposed to the public struck an inexplicable amount of fear through you.

As you slipped on the dress, you watched her through the mirror as she stood up from the bed. You tensed up as her hands reached out to carefully tug on the ropes of the corset in the back. You sucked in a deep breath Hazel’s fingers grazed against the bare skin of your back.

“Is this okay?” Hazel’s whispers.

You simply nod, a very obvious blush on your cheeks as she ties the corset portion off to secure the fabric onto your body. Hazel traces the stitching before retracting her hands to smile at you through the mirror.

“You are beautiful, princess.” Her tone was genuine as her eyes fell to the sage green material of your corset portion of your dress.

“You are a charmer, Hazel,” you reply, trying to hide how much that lifted your spirit.

Hazel chuckled at your deflection of her compliment as she already knew how you were.

“And you are stubborn.” Hazel leaned forward to place a feather-soft kiss onto the crook of your neck.

The gesture caused the faintest of gasps to leave your lips before turning around to face her fully. You were met with her deep blue eyes staring into your own, a glint that was unrecognizable in hers.

“Would you teach me how to fight?” You change the subject, somehow suddenly remembering that she was a trained knight.

Hazel’s eyes narrowed for a moment in thought as you lean forward to scrunch up your nose in her face. Hazel copied your actions which caused you to smile adoringly at her.

“I think you could already put up a good fight so…” Hazel cleared her throat and jerked her head towards your bedroom doors. “Let’s go and test that theory, princess.”

You couldn’t believe she agreed so quickly. You had no experience whatsoever in any other kind of combat. The only thing you knew how to expertly do was disassociate when your parents scolded you.

“Wait, really? You’ll teach me?” You beamed excitedly at her words.

“Of course. Whatever my princess wants,” her tone deepened ever so slightly that caused shivers to run down your spine.

Hazel motioned towards the bedroom doors with a small smile as you hadn’t responded to her comment. All you could do was reciprocate the smile as you followed behind Hazel as she tugged open the door for you. She stood to the side with perfect posture as you walked past her, a soft ‘thank you’ leaving your lips.

You haven’t gotten any new news on how your parents were doing or if they had even arrived in the new country yet. You didn't care as much as you should but there wasn’t an ounce of guilt within you. You haven’t enjoyed yourself in such a long time and it was all thanks to Hazel. Oh, and of course your parents' obsession with giving you away to some random prince.

“What do you want to learn first?” Hazel questions as she walks side by side with you as you make your way to the back of the palace. “There’s sword fighting, hand-to-hand, archery— well that’s considered hunting more than anything but a skill nonetheless.”

“Well, what do you think I could be good at?” You ask curiously.

Sometimes you hated how you couldn't be inside of Hazel’s mind to see what she thought of you. When she looked at you, it seemed a lot more gentle than saying your parents were too. It intrigued you more than anything.

Hazel looked over at you with a smug smile before shaking her head. Damn her private thoughts.

“What?” You press with her a confused chuckle.

“How about we start with hand to hand combat, princess, yeah?” She completely dodged your question.

You would’ve minded a lot more but the way she tilted her head when she spoke to you made your head cloud with desire. You blush and nod at her suggestion. You followed her to the training area designated for the knights just outside of their quarters, eyeing the wooden set up of the swords.

There were a few bow and arrows and targets that were carved into wooden boards. Bow and arrows were more for hunting as you were told by your mother and father.

“How do we start?” You question as you stare out at the open area of grass.

“Before we start, we have to discuss the one ground rule.” Hazel cleared her throat, turning to you with a more serious expression. “The second you feel any sort of uncomfort or fear, you tell me immediately. Do not hesitate. I mean it, princess. It’s my job to protect you and make sure you’re okay.”

“I thought the job my father gave you was to keep me in line because I’m ‘stubborn’.” You quip with a cheeky grin.

“Well, he hasn’t been wrong about that, has he?” Hazel’s eyebrows rose at you.

You remained silent as you knew she got you there. Your stubbornness was evident in this very moment.

“Now, tell me you’ll say if you don’t want to do this anymore. Even if it's mid-fight, you tell me.” Hazel’s eyes bore into your own, your face heating up from the intensity of her deep blue gaze.

You nod, biting back your cheeky attitude to show you were serious about this as well.

“No. Words, princess.” Hazel shook her head.

“Yes, I will tell you.” You suck in a deep breath as you straighten your back.

“Good.”

Was it normal to be aroused by a voice? You asked yourself as she gently yet sternly spoke to you. You felt like you were going insane by wanting to have her instruct you how to do anything and everything.

Now being early summer, beads of sweat were forming at your hairline. Your hair was already into a singular ponytail, being held back by a piece of ribbon that was the same color as your corset portion of your dress. Your everyday dress clung tightly to your body, the flowy sleeves sending a breeze to up your arms with every movement. Hazel had half of her short hair tied up, the look suiting her quite well. You were afraid you would be distracted and get accidentally punched in the face.

“Now, when in combat, a lot of the time your opponent will try to throw you off guard but it's usually some form of punch,” Hazel explained as she slowly circled you.

“Okay, how do I do that?” You turn your head to follow her body.

“Do what?” Hazel blinked.

“Throw a proper punch.” Your eyes are wide with curiosity.

Hazel stopped her circling right in front of you with a soft smile.

“Hold your fists up for me, princess. Like this.”

Hazel demonstrated what your stance should be. You imitate her position, holding your fists straight outwards. She shook her head at you before reaching forward to adjust your arms so that your elbows were bent.

“There we go.” Her voice is calm before she holds up her palms. “Now take a hit at my hand. I need to see how hard you—“

You throw your fist forward to her palm with all the strength you can muster as she is still talking to you. Hazel stops talking to wince at your blow, shaking her hand out to ease the sting that followed throughout her palm and wrist.

You gasp and cover your mouth with both of your hands, muttering out soft apologies quickly. Your own knuckles burned slightly but all you could think about was how you hurt Hazel.

Hazel then chuckled as she shook her head as well, still shaking her hand. “That was good, princess. You are a lot stronger than you look. Hit me again.”

You froze as you noticed her pale cheeks were now slightly flushed as her smile grew. You take position once again as you throw the punch again to her other open palm. Hazel was tense as she urged you to throw the punch again and again and again.

Each blow felt… like a relief. All the pent-up annoyance and anger that was towards your parents for the past 20 years were being let out at the moment.

“You know, you could’ve been a knight if not a princess,” Hazel spoke up as she was finally giving her palms a rest from your slight aggression.

Your chest was panting softly as you too needed a small break, tilting your head at Hazel. A proud smile settled on Hazel’s face which caused you to reciprocate with a tight-lipped grin.

“Really?” You shut one eye as the sun’s rays beamed onto your heated skin, slightly blinding you.

“With your strength, princess, absolutely.” Hazel leaned closer to you, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

Your initial reaction was to look around for anyone but you were still within your own walls of the palace. Just you and her able to enjoy each other's touch. Once this realization settled in, you carefully placed your lips onto hers; a ghost of a kiss even. You tested the waters to see if she even wanted to kiss you when you were all sweaty and out in broad daylight.

Hazel chased yours when you tried to pull away, her hands settling on your waist. It was a careless idea. You wanted to be careless as long as you could feel her lips on you.

“What are you doing to me?” Hazel pulls away to ghost her nose over yours.

Her words were desperate, begging for you.

“Distracting my opponent.” You reply as you allow your palms to rest on hers that were on your waist. They slid up her arms to her biceps to grab onto the muscle lightly.

“You're a vixen, princess.” Hazel lets out a pained sigh before grabbing onto your waist tighter to lock her lips with yours.

The word echoed in your mind. You had only heard it a few times within the literature you read. A vixen was a fierce and sexually attractive woman. Hazel had just admitted that she had thought about you in a sexual manner.

You had merely read about arousing actions. It was rare to find intense and erotic scenes in the fiction you read but when you stumbled upon a few pages of it, you felt ashamed to be absorbing something like that. All of it was centered around a man and a woman.

“Do you want to go to the library?” You hum as you back up slowly from Hazel.

Her brows furrow at your suggestion, having not expected you to say ‘library’ of all places. Her demeanor switched as she knew the library was one of your favorite places in the palace; next to the garden and your bedroom.

“Are we done with practicing for the day?” Hazel questioned but she was taking gradual steps towards your backing away figure.

“I just want a little more… privacy, if that’s okay?”

Which had been code for ‘I want to devour you with no one around’. Hazel’s eyes eyed you up and down with only desire and admiration. Your panting chest and cheeky smile caused her to follow you without a doubt in her mind.

After all, you are her princess.

“You’re a little minx, you know that?” Hazel shook her head as she pointed at you with a smile just as giddy as your own.

You didn't deny her words but instead only continued to back away until you were speed-walking towards the library’s outside doors. Hazel was hot on your feet, a smitten chuckle leaving your lips as her hands chased after your waist. You let out soft giggles at her grip as you tug one of the door handles open to reveal the shelves of dusting books.

There in the far right, away from any big windows of sorts was a red velvet couch with gold lining. You eyed it curiously, waiting patiently for your knight. Hazel shut the door behind you as she peered out the window at the open field to make sure there was no one in the surrounding areas.

Once she made sure the two of you were okay, she turned to you who was already sitting on the couch waiting for her. You were sitting upright, staring up at her with wanting eyes.

“Can I ask you something, princess?” Hazel hummed as she traced a few spines of the books.

“Uh, yes?” You were confused but tilted your head to look at her side profile.

“Have you ever read erotica before?”

The question stunned you. Your eyes darted across the shelves in a panic as you in fact had read some hot erotica before. It had completely caught you by surprise the dirty words inked on the pages of some unknown romance novel. Yes, it was between a man and woman but the feeling it had given you ached in your lower regions.

“Only a few times, yes, but not many,” you admitted shyly.

“Is it arousing for you?” Hazel asked.

What is she leading up to?

Your nose scrunches up at the memory before replying with: “Not always. I feel the man gets a majority of the pleasure in most of them.”

Hazel merely hummed and nodded as you weren't wrong. However, it was painfully obvious as the ones who had read were in fact written by men. The pages were etched with descriptions of a man's ‘throbbing shaft’ and ‘reddening tip’ that had made your body cower in disgust.

“See, that’s the problem. There aren't many novels targeted for women.” Hazel now was inching over to you. You nod in agreement, still looking up at her with curious eyes. “The men usually treat the women like they’re nothing but a pretty face and something to control.”

”I’m pretty sure that’s most men in real life as well.” You add on, shaking your head.

Hazel now stood right in front of you, reaching a hand out to cup at your jaw gently. The motion made you freeze but allowed the touch with caution. Hazel’s rough thumb grazed over your lower lip, your breath hitching at the feeling.

“Will you let me make you feel good, princess?” Hazel’s voice was barely above a whisper, eyes locking with yours. “Show you what that should feel like?”

You almost responded with, ‘You already make me feel good’, but then you realized she meant like in the erotica: sexually.

“Yes.” You muttered in a trance, tilting your jaw up in hopes she would capture your lips in a kiss.

Just as you had hoped, she leaned downward to kiss you softly, both of her hands cupping the sides of your warmed face. Your palms slid down her arms as you allowed her to use her thumb to dig into your cheeks causing your mouth to open a bit. Her tongue swiped over your bottom one hungrily. The kisses only grew heavier as Hazel was now kneeling down to where you now had to lean yourself to chase her addicting lips.

Hazel pulled away for a moment to stare at your flushed face before attaching her lips to the underside of your jaw. You jump a little in surprise but the feeling of her sucking and tugging at your skin makes goosebumps rise and a wave of arousal flow through you. Your cunt pulsed needily in a way that’s never happened before.

“Hazel,” you whimpered as your hands were sliding up into the lower part of her makeshift half-up hair-do.

“You sound prettier than I ever could imagine, princess,” she mutters on the wet spot on your jaw, excitement rushing through her veins.

This caused you to smile shyly at the compliment, cheeks warming up. Hazel pulls away from the length of your jaw to admire how beautiful you are when you’re so desperate.

“How did you plan on making me feel good, my knight?” You question with a cheeky grin, using one of your hands to trace around her hairline.

But you never failed to make her just as desperate.

“Do you trust me?” Hazel took said hand into her own grasp, raising your hand to place ever so gentle kisses on your sore knuckles.

In a dazed, lust-driven state, you nod eagerly.

“Yes,” you whimpered out.

Hazel let go of your gentle hands to guide her own to the bottom of the skirt portion of your dress. You watch the charming knight with eager eyes to see what she is going to do. Her palms were pressing into the plush of your thighs underneath the skirt, the mystery of what she was planning on doing was driving you insane.

“You’ll tell me if you want me to stop and I will, okay?” Hazel’s warm palms were massaging the skin sensually, leaning down to kiss at your exposed knee.

“I don’t think I’ll want you to,” you admit with a soft chuckle as she kisses just a bit higher past your knee.

Hazel too chuckled but she shook her head: “Even so, you change your mind and you let me know immediately, princess. Okay?”

You nod and mutter an ‘okay’ back. Hazel sucked in a deep breath before inching her hands up to the waistband of the undergarments of your dress. Your breathing grew rapid as she began to tug the material down your thick thighs. Hazel watched your face for any sort of discomfort but you only appeared excited for what was to come.

You lifted your feet to allow her to remove them completely. It was an arousing thought to know you were bare for her underneath the skirt of the dress. You’d only ever worn them with your day-to-day dresses as you found them restricting but didn't want to risk accidentally revealing your bottom to the palace staff.

One of her hands tossed the white cotton shorts to the side as the other was at the crevice of your hip and thigh. Your eyes fluttered as her fingers teased on the outside of your aching lips. Your mouth fell open as she gently parted your legs, a breeze brushing past your wet pussy.

“Can I touch you here?” Hazel’s hands brushed past your pubic bone, just above where you were hoping she would touch the most.

“Please,” you breathed out, adjusting yourself to where you were more towards the edge of the couch.

Hazel hummed as she carefully dragged a single finger through your folds. You were practically dripping with arousal, the noise sending shivers down your spine. Hazel muttered a curse under her breath at the feeling of how warm you were. She switched to two fingers just teasing at your cunt. The obscene sound made her feel like she was the luckiest woman to exist to be touching you like this.

Hazel did something that almost made you moan out loud. She suddenly removed that hand from underneath your dress to take her glistening fingers into her mouth. The knight didn't hold back a moan at the taste, needing more of you. The moan causes your ego to boost to the highest extent and you whine at the loss of her attention.

“I could taste you forever,” Hazel groaned before leaning forward to kiss you passionately.

You whimper against her mouth as you get a hint of your arousal on her lips. It wasn’t as good as Hazel was making it out to be but it only made you wetter at the fact that she audibly moaned at the taste of your cunt.

Hazel’s hands pushed the clothing up your legs to rest right on your upper thighs to sneak one hand underneath the skirt. That same hand made its way to your aching core to slip her middle finger into you. You gasp softly, clenching down on her hand. The feeling was foreign but you strangely couldn't get enough of it.

“Does that feel okay, princess?” Hazel questions.

You hum to confirm with a nod of your head.

“Okay. I’m going to move now and you tell me if you want me to stop,” the blue-eyed knight informs you before placing a kiss on your cheek.

You can’t really focus on speaking at the moment. Hazel’s finger begins to pump slowly in and out of your pussy, the motion sending shocks right to your aching clit. This time the moan that leaves your mouth is loud, followed by a whine that you can’t even begin to describe as other than feral.

As Hazel’s arm began to move forward and back, you were gripping onto her toned shoulders as leverage. There was slight sweat forming at the base of your neck and spine. Before you knew it, your hips were rolling down onto the finger. Hazel encouraged you with soft kisses to your cheeks and jaw.

Hazel then slipped in her ring finger next to the middle inside of your warm walls, watching as your face contorted in pleasure. Your brows were furrowed and your jaw hadn’t picked up since she first touched your hip.

“How’s my princess doing?” Hazel pecked your lips.

“Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Hazel grinned at you.

You nod, too focused on how amazing her fingers are working into you to smartly comment like you usually would. They curl against a spot inside of you that erupts the loudest moan you’ve ever made to echo inside the library’s walls. Hazel presses her lips to yours eagerly; to both quiet you and kiss you.

Your abdomen was tightening up as her pace quickened. It felt like you had to pee. Were you going to pee on her?

“Hazel, it feels tight right here.” You place a hand over your stomach, panting as you try to explain the strange feeling.

“It’s okay. I got you, princess. Let go and it’s going to feel so good. Just like I said I would make you feel,” Hazel rushed out as her free hand was now rubbing circles across your untouched clit.

You trusted her so you listened to her words and continued to enjoy the intense feeling. The sound of Hazel’s discreet moans only drew you on. You arched your back into her as your head grew fuzzy as an overwhelming amount of pleasure rushed from your lower back to the tips of your toes.

Hazel’s voice was all you could hear, pressing gentle kisses onto every piece of exposed skin. Your chest heaved up and down slowly as you rode your orgasm out. Her words were not clear yet as you were trying to process what had just happened.

“Princess, can you talk to me, please?” Hazel’s hands were sliding your undergarments up your legs for you as you were coming back down from your high.

“You— What was that?” You chuckle as you shake your head, gradually sitting yourself upright.

“A little trick we learned in knight training,” Hazel joked as she kissed your quivering thighs.

You weakly pushed her shoulder but then tugged at the fabric as a silent ‘come here’. Hazel got the hint and leaned down to take your plush lips onto hers. You slowly kissed her with gentle hands caressing at her neck.

Her hands were resting at your hips, humming in a state of bliss with you.

The door opened causing you and Hazel to remove your lips from one another quickly. You attempted to appear as casual as possible but it was no use. You heard a gasp that left from someone’s lips causing you to look up to see Isabel with eyes wide in shock.

“I’m back from… seeing my family. I’ll leave you be, princess.” Isabel tried to back out of the room but you were quick to call out for her.

She never calls you princess. You're more than just the ‘princess’ to her.

“Bel, wait, please don’t go.” You take a step forward, urgency in your voice.

Isabel held her head down and pretended to not hear you, briskly walking out of your bedroom and allowing the door to shut behind her. You looked over at Hazel in a panic, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.

“I have to go after her, Hazel.” You give her an apologetic look as you rush out of the room before you can even hear her response.

Isabel wasn’t down the hall as you expected but in fact, right outside the library’s door. She was nervously picking at her fingernails. Her eyes caught your own, widening at the sight of your nervous figure.

Neither of you spoke for a beat, eyes locked one another. You were frozen, afraid if you moved she would take off in a sprint to tell someone about what she saw you and Hazel were doing. The silence was deafening.

“So I guess that’s what you meant by closer,” Isabel finally spoke softly, clearing her throat as she tucked a flyaway back behind her ear.

Her words caused your brows to furrow until you looked at her to see her lips pursed into a smile.

“What?”: is all you’re able to reply with as you’re in shock.

“I always thought you had a liking towards her but definitely not that much of a liking,” Isabel joked once again.

Now, you were extremely confused. She was acting so normal about this. No snarky comments about how what you two were doing was unnatural or disgusting.

All you can do is reach forward to pull her into a hug. Isabel accepted the embrace with open arms as she allowed you to let out a soft cry against her shoulder. It’s been a while since you’ve shed genuine tears, especially around people. It was something that you had forced yourself to repress due to your fear of being seen as pathetic by your parents.

Every shout, every degrading comment, every lecture, every poke at you pricked at your tear ducts every time but you had forced yourself to hold back any sort of weakness. It would only lead to even more ridiculing.

“You don’t hate me?” You question through the sobs.

“You’re happy now. I could tell that day I left how much brighter you looked. That’s all I want for you,” Isabel pulled away to grab onto your hands lovingly, “she does make you happy, right?”

You let out a wet laugh, wiping your hot and damp cheeks with one hand.

“A scary amount.”

Isabel let out a soft laugh as well. Her face twisted into a serious expression, her face softening in a way that you’ve never seen before: fear.

“I am afraid for you two. If anyone in the palace finds out about your relationship, I can almost guarantee they will not be kind.” Isabel’s worried voice tells you and winces as she tells you something that shatters your heart: “I’m sorry to tell you this, too, but your parents are also coming home a month early. They should be here in two weeks. One of the knights that patrols the gates heard from a messenger. He informed me when I arrived back.”

You stare at Isabel not knowing what to say. You weren’t ecstatic. Why would you be? You and Hazel have barely shared a week together and now what could’ve been three months had shrunk to one.

Time is fleeting. Time is a new found enemy.

tag-list: @toritea @echo-ethe @em-la-femme @pascalrry @piperlivingdeliberately @elsblunt @bellaramseylover @princessmars @ignepatron @idkwhatimdoingherelmao @guzzlingplastic111 @akila-twt @teenagedramaqueenlisa @vster0769 @moonbyune @silentliesblog @kali-q @0jaylene0 @lovecomesfrmwithin @thewinterlunarhalo @jamespotterloveslilies @writerinloves-blog @uraesthete @spencerreidswhore187 @piapiaweee3 @liv012 @astrologybitch04 @strawberryyivy

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #wlw #sapphic #lgbtq community #this love #knight hazel #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan fic

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todofics · 1 month ago

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Off The Market | 3/6 | Todoroki Shoto x Reader

♡ Summary: The Todoroki name had always borne a heavyweight amongst even society’s finest. When the family’s youngest son, and heir to the title, is forced into the marriage market, it’s no surprise that he quickly becomes the season’s most eligible bachelor—hoping to avoid marriage for at least one more season, who better than to circumvent the ton other than his long-time friend, you?

♡ Content: regency au, fake-dating trope, aged-up characters, age gap (4 years), mutual pining, fem reader, fem pronouns, mature content in future chapters

♡ Author notes: Fair warning, but I did not bother to reread this before publishing - something possessed me, and I sat down and banged this out in one sitting. Yeah. Sorry for the delay, but I've been working 6 days a week to make up for the fact that it's flu season (health care is not for the weak). Hopefully, this is still understandable enough for you to enjoy!

♡ 2.5k /est. 15k words (chapter 3/6)

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Main Masterlist ♡ MHA Masterlist ♡ Previous ♡ Next

Shoto left minutes after your agreement with hushed promises to see you later that night, your face only slightly warmer and his with a sly grin gracing his captivating features. God, you could stare at that smile for hours - wait. You shook your head rapidly, lightly slapping your cheeks as you tried to calm your racing heart. Bad (Y/n)! This entire thing was supposed to renew the interest of others in you, not give you fluttery thoughts about your long-time friend.

Fanning yourself in an attempt to cool down, the sound of your mother clearing her throat caused you to jump in your seat; right, she was in the room. In the midst of these new bubbling feelings rising in your stomach, you’d just… forgotten. It wasn’t like you to be so ditsy, but you weren't entirely used to having a chaperone for you and Shoto. It may have been the norm to have a chaperone for young girls and their potential suitors, but the two of you never had that kind of relationship, and your parents trusted you enough to be alone (at least as long as you were out of the public’s eye).

Until now, you had never even thought of him in that manner. Sure, you knew he was attractive - everyone did, and it wasn’t like you were blind - but the thought of anything more than that just never crossed your mind. Although you had been childhood friends, your families were simply leagues apart: you, a lowly untitled noble, and him, a future Duke. That type of pairing was uncommon (if not nearly impossible) in society.

Nevertheless, you knew your mother would have dozens of questions about the seemingly out-of-nowhere courtship; not once since your debut had Shoto shown an ounce of interest in you (at least not in that way). Indeed, it didn’t look good to anyone that suddenly, with an arranged marriage on the horizon, he was showing up to your estate on the premise of being a “caller.” Your mother was old, but she wasn’t dumb; anyone with half a brain could see the potential scheme the two of you were whipping up. Even if she was becoming desperate for you to finally make a match, this was fishy at best. Hopefully, the two of you seemed interested enough to put those potential rumors at ease; after all, everyone longs for a love based upon the foundation of friendship. With a raised brow, she finally ushered you over, drinking her tea calmly as if today was just another day.

“Explain.”

You knew you could never lie to your mother, but you had to at least try. Continuing to fan yourself, the nervous sweat dripped down your forehead - was it hot in here, or was it just you? (It was just you; the full effect of the Summer heat had yet to hit, and the morning time was quite cool). “Explain what?” you asked, tilting your head slightly to add to the picture of naivete.

She sighed, taking yet another sip of her tea; your mother, thankfully, was never the pushy type.

“I do not know what exactly the two of you are planning, but whatever it is, you need to be careful,” she urged, her tone serious as she looked at you suspiciously as if to gaze directly through you and into your mind. You gulped, flashing her a half-hearted grin in an attempt to reassure her. Typically, besides Shoto, your mother was your closest confidante, but perhaps it was best if she didn’t know about this. You already knew that if she did, she’d give you an earful and forbid you from seeing the boy (and that was a fate you’d rather not be forced into).

“I promise you, mama, we aren’t planning anything,” you swore, setting down the fan and opting to raise your hands defensively. She continued to give you that pointed look, only humming in acknowledgment at the promise after a moment of pause. She knew you better than that, but pushing was never the answer with you (she couldn’t change your mind once it was made up anyway).

You knew she meant well with her concern, but you were a grown woman - seriously, you had been out in society now for four whole years - and you could make your own decisions. You were more than capable of protecting yourself.

With one last look over, she sent you away, commenting that you were dressed far too casually for a calling with the future Duke and to dress better for the ball tonight. With a groan, you merely nodded, allowing yourself to be whisked away by a maid to be adequately showered and dressed; even if your mother was suspicious, she still found public opinion far too important (at least to your taste).

Later that evening, dressed to the nines in one of your best gowns and fanciest pastes, you stood with your back pressed to the wall again, swirling a glass of champagne around as you stared aimlessly at the crowd. Although you’d typically be talking with the girls, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to join the conversation tonight, instead choosing to listen to the bits and pieces of gossip they seemed to be so entranced by. This time, however, appeared to be a bit different; although you’d have to really be looking for it to be obvious, you could feel a few glances being cast upon you. It seemed rumors surrounding you were already being spread. None of the other girls seemed to notice the rhythm of the conversation continuing without a lull.

Although you weren’t quite sure what to expect from a “proper” courtship with Shoto (you hadn’t been seriously courted in years now - especially not from someone of high standing), you couldn’t help but look for the man in the crowd. Spotting him wasn’t difficult; his lean stature and peppermint hair made him stand out against just about anyone. It was still early into the ball, and he hadn’t quite made his way over yet, still greeting others of higher status as was expected. It wasn’t until about half an hour into the ball that he approached your little group as others in the area marveled at his presence. It wasn’t often that he found time to stop at the edges of the ballroom - especially not recently - as he was often stuck directly in the center with his family, growing increasingly acquainted with the duties that came with being a future Duke.

“I hope I’m not imposing,” he started, his gaze resting on you as the girls seemed to move to allow room for him. “I was just going to steal (Y/n) for a moment,” Shoto finished, offering his hand to you expectantly. It was well-known that the two of you were childhood friends, so the event didn’t seem to stick out too much to your friends. That, however, didn't stop their apparent excitement.

“Not at all,” Mina chirped happily, the rest of the group nodding along. “Feel free to take her!”

You offered him a weak smile, taking his hand as the girls seemed to giggle at the event (they never once believed you when you said you didn’t have feelings for him). “I hope your dance card isn’t full,” he mumbled, leading you to the center of the ballroom. Your eyes narrowed at the taller man; he definitely knew it wasn’t full. Was he daring to make a jest at you now after his promise? You hadn’t made an effort to dance in so long, nor had anyone made an effort to invite you. Maybe this was part of the reason why you had no prospects.

“It isn’t,” you confirmed, grasping onto his hand a little tighter as the crowd grew denser toward the center of the room. Even if you had longed for someone to finally look at you, this was a bit much. Being with Shoto, in the center of the ballroom, you could feel the piercing stares of everyone in the room; all eyes were on you.

To the strumming of orchestral instruments, Shoto wrapped his free hand around your waist, his other hand never releasing yours as he pulled you close - closer than you were ever accustomed to being. “I know,” he laughed teasingly, starting to sway rhythmically to the song in the background.

You puffed your cheeks out, pouting just a bit at him. Cute. “I knew it, you jerk,” you replied, following his lead; although you hadn’t danced in so long, the footwork was muscle memory. Maybe those dance lessons your mother forced on you weren’t so useless after all.

“Just teasing,” Shoto chuckled, flashing you that boyish grin that seemed to be reserved for just you (at least you hoped so; you never truly saw him smiling as often with anyone as he did with you). You scoffed, allowing yourself to be dipped by the taller man as you moved together in perfect harmony. It was as if you had done this dozens of times.

“And if anyone were to hear you?” you questioned, voice barely louder than the music. No one would hear, of course, but you still had to remind him that you were in public.

“They wont.”

The song came to an end, but Shoto didn’t seem to want to separate, his grip on you tightening as you attempted to step away. “You want this to look real?” he asked, voice hushed as he continued to pull you along as the next song started. If anyone wasn’t looking before, they sure as hell were now. Shoto hadn’t willingly danced for more than one song in ages. Even Shoto, forced by his family, had only danced once throughout the entirety of the last season (and even then, that was with Fuyumi). With this, Shoto was making his intentions loud and clear for anyone to see - you were his.

“People are staring,” you mumbled back, not doing much else to refuse. It was hard to refuse when he was looking at you like that. The intensity of his stare caused you to look downwards, focusing on the movement of your feet.

“Ignore them,” he said, momentarily releasing your hand to take your chin in hand as he directed your gaze back at him. He was quick to take your hand back into his, ignoring the way your (and many others) jaw dropped. “Just focus on me.” Rumors were definitely going to circulate after that.

Although you were usually nervous about being the center of attention, the people staring seemed to fade into the background as you became entranced by Shoto’s eyes; something about being close to him was just so… relaxing. You could easily forget about all of your worries this way.

Shoto seemed to relax as well, letting his guard down as the two of you danced around for many more songs despite the whispers; although he wouldn’t admit it aloud, he was most comfortable with you. Conversation with you was easy - simple. You didn’t flourish your words with the many niceties others in society seemed to; it was refreshing. In exchange for that bluntness, you got to see a side of Shoto he didn’t let others see - the teasing, fun, boyish side. People often forget that he, too, is a person - not just the future duke.

Throughout the various songs, your conversation with Shoto continued in that easy-going manner; you talked about everything and nothing at all. It had been so long since you had a chance to do this. To just… talk.

“I missed this,” he interjected during a lull in your conversation, his eyes looking at you with a sort of fondness you weren’t familiar with (or did he always look at you this way? You hadn’t noticed).

“What?” you asked, the aching of your feet starting to make itself known. You had to have been dancing with him for at least an hour now, and for someone who hadn’t danced in years, that in itself was a feat.

“Talking to you like this,” Shoto finished his musing, a more gentle smile replacing that usual stoic expression on his face. Although the two of you were close, the last season had done a number on your friendship; his father, especially, had pushed him to focus on the family business, seeing his friendship with you as trivial. As of late, it felt like you could count the number of times you’d had an actual conversation with Shoto on one hand.

You could feel that same fluttering feeling of butterflies starting again in your gut as your heart raced, “I missed it too.” God, he really knew how to make a girl’s heart race, didn’t he? A matching dumb grin colored your features.

“Hopefully, we can still talk like this after you find your future husband,” Shoto said, his expression almost wistful as he thought about the future. You were just such a good friend. Your smile immediately fell, reminding you what this plan was truly about.

“Right,” you mumbled, gaze leaving his as you finally broke away from his grip, turning immediately to leave. That was enough for the night. Stupid Shoto and his damn bluntness. Stupid Shoto and his inability to understand anyone’s feelings but his own. “It’s getting late, and I’m tired. It’s about time I retire.”

He nodded in understanding, "Let me walk you out." You shook your head, opting to not respond verbally for fear that your voice would waver. "Then I'll see you tomorrow," Shoto resolved, staring at your retreating figure.

Hopefully, you’d turned around in time to not let him see the beginning of tears pricking your eyes. Hopefully, you were able to mask the hurt in your voice as you bid him goodbye. Hopefully, he couldn’t sense your urgency to get outside that suffocating ballroom.

Fuck. You had feelings for Shoto. Real, concrete, romantic feelings.

Finishing out this deal would be more complicated than you thought. How could you possibly think you could avoid growing feelings for Shoto and his stupidly handsome face? For years, you knew Shoto had never intended to marry, so you had guarded your heart. You had been so careful. Now, here comes one little proposition, and you let your guard down. Stupid. This was so stupid. You were stupid.

Perhaps you should’ve set more ground rules and allowed for more distance between the two of you. It wasn’t like he was trying to make you fall for him. He was far too dense for that - far too dense to understand the effect that he had on people. He was clear from the beginning with you what he wanted, and it definitely wasn’t whatever this was. It wasn’t fair to him that you were upset at him over something he had no control over.

You willed yourself to walk at a normal speed, your pace only increasing once you reached the outdoors. As you continued to run into cover of the evening, you felt like you could finally breathe. Wiping your tears, you took a deep breath and stepped into the carriage. He didn’t deserve this.

So, you steeled your resolve. Feelings be damned, you’d go through with this plan if it was the last thing you’d do.

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padfootagain · 23 days ago

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Love in Verses (XX)

Chapter 20 : My heart has made its mind up and I’m afraid it’s you

Hi! Here is a new chapter! Valentine’s day is here… wondering how Andrew is going to cope with it, huh?

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2477

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Valentine

My heart has made its mind up And I’m afraid it’s you. Whatever you’ve got lined up, My heart has made its mind up And if you can’t be signed up This year, next year will do. My heart has made its mind up And I’m afraid it’s you.

Wendy Cope

Andrew had a date tonight.

He hadn’t been on a first date since Sam, obviously, he felt rusty and nervous. He didn’t even know the woman, Alex had set up the date. Christina, that was her name. A year younger than him, working as a nurse at St James’s Hospital. Alex had showed him a picture, she was pretty. Apparently, she was nice and a lot of fun. Why not give her a chance?

Andrew was desperate at that point. Desperate to see if he could ever move on from Sam, desperate to prove himself that he didn’t have a crush on you. That this was nothing serious, just his heart longing for companionship when he felt so lonely these days. Besides, it was Valentine’s Day, he was so painfully lonely, he needed to focus on something else than his love life in shambles. He needed to try to move on. And if he did, he needed to do so with a woman who wasn’t you.

So, he had accepted Alex’s offer, had booked a table at a nice restaurant, had tried to look his best for tonight. Elwood was staying with Jon for the evening, he didn’t have to worry about going home late.

And now, there he was, running five minutes late as he walked inside the restaurant, but for his standard, he called that a win. Five minutes… who would care for five minutes?

Apparently, Christina would.

He had a shy but polite smile on his face when he spotted her across the room. He was polite as he took a seat. Meanwhile, she gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“Was there any traffic tonight?” she asked, and Andrew knew at once what she was talking about.

“Erm… it just… took me longer than I thought it would to drop my dog off at my brother’s. Sorry about that. I hope you didn’t wait for too long.”

“No, it’s okay,” she admitted, and she seemed to relax knowing the reason for his short delay. “It’s a nice place you’ve chosen, by the way.”

“Yeah? Glad you like it. Should we take a look at the menu, then?”

They quickly ordered their food, and then began the usual dance of questions that came with trying to learn the most basic things about a person while they waited for their meal.

“So… Alex told me you’re a professor? At Trinity?”

“I am,” Andrew nodded, before drinking a gulp of water. “Assistant professor, actually.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Erm… the paycheck, definitely,” Andrew joked, making Christina smile. “It’s a different rank at University… extremely hierarchical organisation. I don’t have a chair. I give classes, I do research, but I don’t have the same prestige and don’t own a chair for my work.”

“Right…”

“Which is normal, I’m not complaining. Chairs are rare, I’ll probably have to wait another decade to get the rank of professor.”

She didn’t seem reassured by that, Andrew wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“For how long have you been working at Saint James?” Andrew asked back.

“A couple of years.”

“Do you like it there?”

“Yeah… I guess,” she shrugged, and Andrew waited for her to say more about the matter, but she didn’t.

“And so… what do you teach at Trinity?” she asked after a short silence.

“Erm… English. Contemporary poetry, mainly, but I cover a lot of modernism as well through novels.”

She blinked a couple of times.

“Right… so… you like books.”

He gave her an amused smile.

“You can say that.”

“The last book I’ve read was a mandatory reading in high school,” she admitted.

“The last time I cleaned up a wound without feeling sick was… never. So, I guess we’re even,” Andrew offered with a smile, and Christina nodded.

And it was alright, of course. People had many interests. And his partner didn’t have to be interested in the same things as he did. Sam was the perfect example of that. Still… he didn’t really know what to talk about next.

They spent the next few minutes making chit chat, but it was laborious at best. Andrew used a moment of silence in the conversation to take a look around. The restaurant was obviously busy on Valentine’s Day. The decoration was simple but aesthetically pleasing; candles and white or red roses added to each table to enhance the theme of the evening. There were only couples around.

Only couples…

“Andy?”

He turned around, recognising the voice in an instant.

He couldn’t help it, his face fell for a second, before he could summon the strength to hide his reaction.

The universe itself was set against him at this point…

He got up, forced a smile to greet Sam and Frank.

“It’s so funny finding you here!”

“Yeah… wasn’t expecting to see you!” he forced a smile.

Frank noticed Christina then.

“Oh, honey, we’re disturbing Andrew, I think. Sorry, about that,” he was genuine in his apology as he warmly smiled at Christina.

Sam flinched, but quickly smiled as well.

“Oh, sorry! Have a nice evening you two!”

They moved away quickly, reaching their own table. Just a couple of tables away. Right where Andrew could see them whenever he looked up from his plate.

Nice… grand…

“Erm… what are your hobbies?” he asked out of the blue, trying to get the conversation going again, if only to distract himself from Frank and Sam holding hands across their table.

“Oh… not much. I don’t really have the time for those�� I like running.”

“Nice!”

“Do you like jogging?”

“Erm… not that much. But I love swimming.”

“I can’t swim.”

“Right… do you like the sea anyway? Like… the beach? Running on the beach, maybe?”

“Not really, no. I’m not very interested in the sea. It’s a little scary.”

“Oh, okay.”

Andrew focused on his meal, but with every painful question asked and answered, it was more and more obvious that they had nothing in common.

A couple of tables away, Frank and Sam were sharing food, a habit Andrew knew Sam hated. They were holding hands, and giggling, and looking so disgustingly in love, while he was on his own, while he wanted that intimacy back, while he thought of you…

Andrew wasn’t sure at which point of the evening you had popped into his mind, but you were all he could think of, right now. He had mentioned that he was going on a date, but you had not given him any details concerning your plans for the evening. You would call your friend Siobhán, you had mentioned some ice cream… were you reading? Watching crappy tv or a good movie? Had you changed your plans? Were you on a date as well?

Andrew couldn’t refrain the bitter taste of jealousy as he thought of you with someone else… as he imagined you in his shoes, at a nice restaurant, meeting with a stranger, and perhaps you would let him hold your hand across the table and would kiss him at the end of the evening, and even spend the night with him…

A wave of nausea made it impossible for him to finish his plate as he thought of you in another man’s bed.

The couple dining at the table right next to Andrew’s started raising their voices. Not enough to draw attention from the entire restaurant, but enough for Andrew and Christina to overhear everything. An argument was brewing. Jealousy and an unhealthy relationship at its peak.

In a matter of five minutes, the two were almost shouting at each other. Andrew and Christina exchanged an embarrassed look while the guy complained about how often they had sex.

And Sam was still there, every time he looked up. And you were all he could think of. And Christina was nice, sure, but they were absolutely incompatible on every level.

And then the last straw came.

“Are you religious?” she asked, and Andrew shook his head.

“No, not really, no.”

“Oh…”

“What about you?”

“Yes, very.”

“Oh…”

“Is that… like… are you just not going to church, or…”

“I… I don’t know. I’m an agnostic, I would say.”

“A what?”

“Agnostic. I don’t know if there’s a God up there or not. I’m… neutral, I guess you could say it like that. But I wouldn’t go to church even if I did believe in God.”

“Really? Why not?”

“I’m wary of any institution run by men that uses its power to dictate how people should behave, including in the most private parts of their lives.”

She blinked, struggling with this new information.

“So… you would never practice religion…”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Right… Cause it’s a very important part of my life.”

“And I respect that.”

“But you would not start believing.”

“Why would I?”

“For me?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Would you think it was okay if I asked you to give up on your faith to be in a relationship with me?”

“Of course not!”

“Then… how can you ask? We can have different beliefs…”

“But you’re wrong.”

“I can’t be wrong, Christina. It’s faith. And it’s the definition of faith to believe without proof. You can’t say I’m wrong, and I can’t say you are. We just have different faiths.”

She nodded, but had stopped eating.

Next to them the angry couple raised their voices again.

“Can I be brutally honest?” she asked, her voice softer now.

Andrew merely nodded.

“You’re clearly a really nice lad, Andy. And I’m not going to deny that Alex was right when he said that you’re definitely my type. But… it looks like we… don’t match.”

Andrew gave her a kind smile.

“I agree,” he nodded. “I don’t think our lives are very compatible.”

“Not really no.”

“You’re good craic though. And you’re… gorgeous, to be honest.”

“Thanks.”

“I don’t think we’d be able to find common things to build a relationship on, though.”

“Me neither. Would you mind if we called it a night?”

“No… no, I don’t mind, I understand.”

“Thanks.”

They paid for their food, left the restaurant while the couple bickered and Frank and Sam were still in love. Andrew waited for Christina to get safely in an uber, before he would walk to his own car.

He heaved a sigh, tried not to cry.

Everywhere he went, Sam’s ghost followed.

Whatever he did, you were always on his mind.

Were you home safe and sound? What were you doing? Was there a man with you?

He reached for his phone, his car still silent in the carpark. He touched your name on his screen, and you answered after three rings.

“Andy?”

“Hi, Y/N! You’re alright ?”

“Sure! Just… about to watch some adorable romcom to remind myself of unattainable standards concerning men and relationships, will most certainly have a good cry over the fact that the man I wanted to marry is probably getting amazing sex with his new fiancée, and I will definitely eat my weight in ice cream. You? How was your date? It’s early still… did everything go well?”

“Argh… don’t mention it. Everything about it was awful.”

He described his evening, and you listened, commented, interjected every now and then.

“You deserve to eat your weight in ice cream too,” you stated.

“I think I do, yeah… although… I think I’ll just go to bed once I’m home.”

“Are you driving?”

“No, no… don’t worry. I just… I felt bad. So, I called you before leaving the parking lot in front of the restaurant. I can see all those disgustingly happy couples walk out of there hand in hand…”

“Outrageous. Don’t they know we’re mourning?!”

“No decency. And God, I hate Valentine’s Day…”

“Me too… I feel… so empty today. Frank and I used to always go to the cinema on Valentine’s Day. He always stole all my popcorn. I found that adorable.”

He heard you sniffing, his heart broke at the sound. He wished he could have been there, hold you tight until the tears would subside, until he could make you smile again.

“What would you have done with Sam?” you asked, your voice hoarse with sorrow.

Andrew shrugged, stared at the night sky, made utterly black by the clouds.

“A restaurant, probably. Flowers. Nothing too fancy, but it would have been nice.”

He struggled to swallow, his throat tightening.

“Frank and Sam were sharing their food.”

“Hmm? Yeah, Frank does that sometimes.”

“Sam hates it. She hates it. She never wanted me to touch her food. Why does she let him do that, then?”

A short silence, your answer in a whisper.

“To make him happy.”

Andrew pondered on your words. You were right, obviously. When he spoke again, his voice was low and soft, barely above a whisper.

“I really wish I didn’t have to do that again to be loved.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend. Change. Stop… being myself sometimes.”

You were quiet, but you were still there. He knew it. He could hear you breathing in the phone. And beyond that reassuring sound, he just knew you were listening. He was never sure with Sam.

“I’d really like that too,” you whispered, and he hummed in response.

A happy couple came out of the restaurant then. Andrew watched them reach their car, laughing, holding hands. He felt so fucking lonely… So utterly alone in this world. No one knew him like that anymore…

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you promise me something?”

“What is it?”

“Promise me you… promise me you’ll never change for me. Promise me you won’t pretend. I want you to…”

He cleared his throat, brushing the tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes.

“I want you to be yourself when I’m around. Can you do that?”

He heard you sniffing again. You were quiet for a moment, but Andrew knew you were nodding, he could hear the quiet hum that went with it.

“Andy?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. Thank you, Andy.”

You sniffed, struggled through a few words, but Andrew was patient, he was drying his cheeks on his sleeves anyway.

“I don’t want you to pretend either when you’re with me, you know?”

“I know.”

He was lying. He didn’t know. He didn’t know at all. He didn’t know how to be loved, except by not quite being himself.

You both remained silent for a while, but it was still reassuring to know that you were there, on the other end of the line. Andrew should have hung up then. He should have let you watch your cheesy movie, and eat your ice cream. Instead, he spoke again.

“I’ve finished Dante, by the way.”

He spent the next forty-five minutes talking about Inferno with you. And after the call had ended, and he was finally driving home, it was harder than ever to deny that he wanted you.

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier series #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier au #hozier professor au #professor au #au #series #writing #fanfiction #fanfic

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redrose10 · 10 months ago

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Here is Chapter 12! Sorry for the delay. I am feeling better, but I am still a little behind so I’m hoping the next chapter can be posted in a few days. We’re getting closer to the end!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 2,053

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Tag List: @gimeow @kam9404 @viankiss @baechugff @gaby-93 @kayleefriedchicken @igot7fairlyoddparents @jalexad @drrookie

Yoongi was too stunned to move or even speak. You on the other hand were impatient and wanted to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. Already with your shoes and coat on you walked back over to Yoongi jingling his keys in front of him, “Come on. Let’s get going.” When he still didn’t move you slammed the keys down in front of him, “Now Yoongi!”

He instantly jumped up and hustled after you. He had to admit he was really really starting to love this new take charge no bullshit Y/N.

Once in the car you punched in the address that Namjoon sent you and Yoongi began the drive over.

“What exactly did Namjoon say?”, he asked finally breaking the silence.

“I’ll let him explain everything, but I think that Suri used him to try and get to me so that she could have you.” Yoongi tried to comprehend, but you didn’t even give him the chance to ask for clarification.

“I just don’t understand what her problem is. Is it really worth ruining so many lives to keep you? I mean no offense Yoongi. You are really attractive and you can be nice when you want to be and you do have money, but aren’t there any other rich idiots she can chase after?”

Yoongi looked over at you with his brows furrowed. He wanted to take offense but you were right in a way so he knew it was best to let that one go. Instead he chose to focus on you calling him attractive instead bringing a slight tint of pink to his cheeks. He knew himself that he was attractive, but something about hearing you say it did something to him.

The two of you arrived at your destination and hastily made your way to the front door knocking several times. A few minutes went by before the door swung open revealing a somber Namjoon. He invited you both in offering some drinks before taking a seat on the couch. You and Yoongi sat across from him.

“Thank you both for coming here. Suri doesn’t know this address so there’s no way she could possibly show up. I wanted to make sure of that.”, he said clearing his throat.

“No problem. I think you should start from the beginning to catch Yoongi up on everything that happened and then we can go from there.”

He nodded, “Okay so I guess I’ll just get right to it then. The first time I met Suri was several months ago. I was leaving your place after one of our lessons and she was waiting for Yoongi out in the hallway. We talked a little and that was it. I met her a few more times in similar situations and each time we’d talk a little more. Then this one time Yoongi and Suri were coming back from doing you know what while I had just spent the evening comforting Y/N.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, “Oh please. If you were so innocent in all this we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

“Yeah well if you weren’t a womanizing cheating asshole then none of this would’ve happened to begin with.”, Namjoon spat back.

“Both of you stop it. This isn’t the time to act like children’.”, you shouted feeling overwhelmed by their bickering.

Namjoon and Yoongi glared at each other before continuing, “Sorry Y/N, you are right. Anyways, Suri asked if I wanted to grab drinks that night. I didn’t but I wanted to find out more about what Yoongi was up to with her so I agreed. After a few too many drink I let it slip that I was starting to develop feelings for Y/N but she told me that she would never cheat and wasn’t able to leave Yoongi. Suri told me that she had a way to make it so that Y/N wouldn’t want anything to do with Yoongi outside of what was required of her. At the time I thought she was genuinely trying to help me, but looking back it was clear she was just using me to get Yoongi for herself. She started asking me for information about the two of you that she could use. That’s how she knew about the cologne that Y/N had made. She knew that the two of you were going up to the cabin so she really increased the amount of texts she sent hoping that Y/N would come across it. She knew that Y/N was going to be at the charity auction and got Hwan involved.”

“Wait, wait, wait, so did you know that Hwan was going to come after me at the auction?”, you asked feeling hurt that he would possibly put you in danger like that.

“Uhh kind of. He was supposed to just say some creepy stuff to you and then I’d swoop in and chase him off so you’d feel safe with me and be upset with Yoongi for not being there for you. But he wasn’t supposed to follow you outside or actually touch you. He took it too far and then I couldn’t find you anywhere in the building. I know it was a really dumb idea and I don’t know what we were thinking.”

You scoffed, “Yeah you think? Thank God Yoongi was there to save me unlike you. I can’t believe you Namjoon!”

“You’re right Y/N and I’m sorry.”

What about the baby situation?”, you asked after taking a breath and wanting to move this long

“So a while ago she came up with this crazy plan to get pregnant by Yoongi. She really thought that was the key to force him to stay with her. I told her that was taking it way too far, but she didn’t care. She stopped her birth control, but never said anything about it. She would complain constantly that Yoongi refused to touch her without a condom. She came up with this ridiculous idea to have another guy get her pregnant and then say the baby was Yoongi’s. I told her she was fucking nuts and that would never work. I was getting to the point I wanted nothing to do with her or this plan. But I honestly didn’t think she would go through with it. Then one night she came over to my place really upset. She said she had just left Yoongi’s office and he had once again told her that their relationship was over. He was going to work on his marriage and that started with cutting her out of his life. He even had security remove her from the building when she wouldn’t leave. She seemed pretty devastated. I felt kind of bad for her, but honestly I was more relieved that she wouldn’t be able to go through with this crazy pregnancy plan. I asked her if she wanted a drink and one drink turned into two and then three and so on. Well one too many drinks later we ended up in my bed together. The next month she told me she was pregnant and was going to tell Yoongi the baby was his. We both knew I was the father based on the last time she had slept with anyone else and I wasn’t going to let her take the baby away from me. Then when we were at the police station she showed me the sonogram and that she was going to tell Jin about it. I got upset and told her that I wouldn’t let her take my baby away from me and if she told Jin about it then I would tell you both about her whole entire plan. So when I found out from Hwan that she went through with it after I had left I decided to call you.”

Your head was spinning round and round. You felt like you were in some kind of weird soap opera. You looked over and Yoongi looked just as shocked as you felt. “Surely she won’t let you get away with this that easily. What is going to happen to you?”, you asked turning your attention back to Namjoon.

“Well I’m definitely going to loose my job since I work for Hwan’s company now.”, he chuckled.

“But I don’t even care any more. There’s an innocent baby involved and I’m not going to let her continue this mess.”

He reached to the side table next to him and grabbed a brown folder. He handed it over to you before leaning back into the couch, “In this folder is everything you’d need to use against her. Copies of texts, emails, voicemail transcripts. There’s a copy of the prenatal dna test we had done that shows the baby is mine.”

Yoongi took the folder and began flipping through the papers humming and letting go of a sigh everytime he saw something interesting.

“I mean this is great and all, but there’s still the issue of the mixtape.”, you said.

“There is no tape.”, Namjoon spoke.

Yoongi and yourself both looked over at him with wide eyes.

“What?!,” you said in unison.

“Yeah she told me all about that and how she wished she still had a copy of it because it seemed to be the only thing that really scared you. Apparently there was a big data breach at her dads label a couple years ago. Some hackers got in trying to access account information. They had no choice but to wipe every system completely clean loosing a ton of music and other files. For some reason they didn’t have any backups. She said the label almost went bankrupt until they debuted that girl group. You know, Old Jeans or New Beans or something like that.”

You lightly chucked at his lack of pop culture knowledge.

He continued, “But yeah there is no tape. She’s been lying to you about it for years.”

Carefully you peaked over at Yoongi. His face was so red he almost looked purple. He was gripping the folder so tightly his knuckles were turning white. Slowly you reached over trying to not startle him and grasped his hand into yours.

“Umm so what do we do now? We can’t just tell her to stop it. If she’s willing to go through all of this there is no way she’s going to just backdown easily.”, you asked.

The three of you sat in silence for a while pondering your next move.

“I have an idea.”, Yoongi finally spoke before getting up. He extended a hand out to you and you accepted following after him towards the door.

Namjoon followed closely behind. “Thank you for coming clean Namjoon but I think we should take a break in our friendship.”, you said before walking off towards the car.

Yoongi walked just outside the doorframe before turning back to Namjoon.

“I’ll handle it from here. Thank you for providing us with the documents.”

“Sure if you need anything else just let me know.”

Yoongi went to walk down the few stairs leading to the walkway before turning around and making his way back up using his hand to stop the door just before it closed.

“Oh and Namjoon.”

The door swung back open and he gestured for Yoongi to continue.

“Stay the fuck away from my wife.”

He turned and walked back down the steps and over to his car where you were already waiting. Gently he placed the folder in the backseat before putting the car in reverse.

He was silent on the drive back to his place and you didn’t want to push him. Once he parked the two of you sat in the car for a while. Yoongi nervously drummed on the steering wheel.

“Hey are you okay?”, you asked concerned with his lack of emotion.

“Yeah I guess I just can’t believe I’ve been so stressed about this stupid mixtape when it didn’t even matter. I thought I’d feel relieved, but I’m just having a hard time processing it.”

“So what is your plan? How do you know it’ll work and not make things worse?”, you asked reaching over for his hand.

He chuckled before looking over at you with a smirk, “Oh it’ll work Y/N. But uh you are definitely not going to like it.”

#bts #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #cinnamon&vanilla #min yoongi #yoongi angst #yoongi x y/n #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi au #bts yoongi #yoongi #bts fic #namjoon #ceo au #arranged marriage au

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soloroomies · 5 months ago

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lifemate (Chapter 9/ Sakusa x f!reader)

summary: meeting Kiyoomi's granny for the first time word count. 2.6k cw. marriage pact au, mature content, smut (fingering) Masterlist

Turns out that what you did the other night has become the new normal for you and Kiyoomi. Neither of you are shy to initiate things. Your early worries have faded away completely. He makes you feel wanted. To be honest, there's something quite surprising about him. You never gave much thought to what type of person he is in bed. But before all this, if someone had asked whether he's a giver or a receiver, you would have guessed he's a receiver. Not because you thought he was selfish, but because you didn't see him as someone who enjoys such things. You imagined him to be more the calculating type, ensuring one orgasm each and that's it. So, it shocked you to discover that the couch incident wasn't a one-time thing. Three months have passed since that night, and there are times when he just wants to pleasure you without wanting anything in return. You've asked him why, and he just shrugs.

And there's another thing you noticed. After the first night you and he had sex, he left your room. The next time you had sex, he left again. And the next. So, you concluded that it was just the way he was. That's why, the first time you had sex in his room, you left afterward. Neither of you ever cuddles. It was never part of your post-intimacy routine. You wonder if it might be related to his need for personal space? Or, he might be uncomfortable with that kind of intimacy? Yes, you both have sex, but there's nothing more established beyond that. Despite this, you’ve managed to return to your previous dynamic, feeling comfortable with each other. It's like you’re friends with benefits but married. You can’t help but laugh at the thought.

After consecutive wins, MSBY faced a tough loss last week. While not a significant problem given their impressive record and another chance for playoff qualification, it was still disheartening. Kiyoomi's response was immediate and noticeable. It was as soon as you got home from the match. You noticed he deviated from his usual routine. For instance, he practiced even on Sunday, the day after the match. The last two days, he came home later than usual due to his intensified practice sessions, pushing himself harder and delaying dinner times. You tried not to intervene too much in his grieving phase but couldn’t help wanting to offer some emotional support by being there for him. In the past few days since the match, you've waited for him to come home so you can have dinner together.

That applies to today as well, when he comes home late again. As soon as he arrives, you both have dinner together. After finishing and washing the dishes, he sits beside you on the couch as you scroll through your phone.

“You don’t have to wait for me to have dinner,” he says.

You turn your head to him. “Mmm… But I want to.”

“I might come later tomorrow,” he warns.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him.

“Don’t. I heard it’s not good for your health if you eat this late,” he insists.

“Well, that means it applies to you as well,” you counter.

“Yeah, but—”

“No no. If you don’t want me to eat late, then I don’t want you to eat late either,” you say with finality, silencing him.

You put your phone down and look at Kiyoomi, who seems deep in thought. Moving closer to him, you say, “I’m sorry, Omi. It’s just… I don’t think overworking your body is a good idea. I’m just concerned.” You put your hand on his.

He looks at your hands and then at you. After a beat of silence he says, “You’re right. I’m sorry for making you concerned.” Then, surprisingly, he leans down and kisses your lips. He kisses you gently and slowly, his hand on your waist while the other stroking your hair. The tenderness of his actions tugs at your heartstrings, awakening butterflies in your stomach. As if that isn't enough, the stare he gives you after the kiss might just be the end of you. He kisses the tip of your nose and murmurs, “I’m sorry.”

All you can manage is a shaky, “It’s okay.”

He gets up. “I’m going to sleep,” he says, and you nod, still dazed.

Other than that one time he kissed you before walking onto the court, you never kissed without it leading to sex. This is new, and you can’t justify your erratic heartbeat other than that it’s just unfamiliar territory for you.

As he heads to his room, he pauses. “Oh, and hey,” he calls.

“Yeah?” you respond.

“My mom says she, dad, and granny will come here on Friday night,” he informs you.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, so that we’re both home already. They said they want to visit us and will be staying until the match on Sunday. Are you okay with that?”

“Of course! Let’s make a little feast on Friday night,” you say, recalling that you used to meet his grandma when you were in high school. Now, she's almost 90 years old but still quite active. Unfortunately, she couldn't attend your wedding because she had a flu, and everyone was concerned for her, so she wasn't allowed to go. You also remember that his "granny" is his grandma from his mom's side, which makes her Komori's grandma too. “Wait, will Komori come too?”

Kiyoomi seems to remember something. “Oh, I actually forgot. Yes, Komori will come with his wife.”

You chuckle at him. “How could you forget?” Which only replied by him chuckling and scratching his head.

“Yeah I forgot, granny decided to sleep here since we have two unused rooms.”

Your eyes widen. “Hold up. That means we should move my things to your room.”

Kiyoomi raises his eyebrows, as if just reminded. “Oh. Right. I’ll deal with that tomorrow.”

You nod, agreeing with him as he enters his room. Phew. Tomorrow’s Thursday. You still have time. Luckily, Kiyoomi remembered to tell you this information which he told at the last minute before he went to sleep. It would look weird if his family found out you’ve been sleeping in separate rooms all this time.

The next day, Kiyoomi doesn’t come home late like he has been the past few days. After dinner together, he comes to your room. You both move most of your essentials to his room, leaving just enough in yours to get through the night and the next morning.

Friday arrives, and you’re busy preparing for the evening. The feast will be catered from a nearby Italian restaurant. Kiyoomi suggested this to save you from the hassle of cooking after work, but you insisted on making dessert. After work, you head to the kitchen to make a lemon ricotta cake. As you finish, you hear the apartment door open, signaling Kiyoomi’s arrival. He’s brought the Italian food you ordered.

“Hey. I’ll set the dinner table,” he says.

You look up from your cake and send him a thumbs up. Half an hour later, you’re plating your freshly baked cake with icing sugar while Kiyoomi finishes setting the dinner table and helps you wash the cooking ware.

“I’m done! Let’s change clothes,” you say.

Kiyoomi nods, and you head to your room, only to be reminded that your clothes are in his room now. You knock on his closed door.

“Yeah?” Kiyoomi opens the door.

“My clothes. They’re all in your room,” you explain.

“Oh, right. Sorry,” he says, stepping aside to let you in.

You open his large wardrobe, now containing your clothes as well. You pause, contemplating what to wear. Glancing at Kiyoomi, you notice he’s wearing a navy short-sleeve button-up shirt and chinos. He catches your eye.

“Sorry. I’m just looking for inspiration,” you tell him with a smile.

Deciding to match his casual look, you opt for a comfortable navy maxi dress. You don’t need to dress up too much since it’s a casual family dinner and they’ll be staying over anyway.

“They’re here,” Kiyoomi says after checking his phone.

“Oh, okay. Let’s open the door,” you reply, giving yourself a final once-over in the mirror.

When you open the door, you’re greeted by Kiyoomi’s parents, granny, Komori, and his wife, Mia.

Komori jokes, “Well, look here, if it isn’t my favorite outside hitter! Beating my team relentlessly,” referring to MSBY's win against EJP Raijin a few weeks ago, as he hugs Kiyoomi.

Kiyoomi chuckles and replies, “Just doing my job.”

Kiyoomi’s mom hugs you warmly, “How are you, darling?”

“I’m good. How are you?” you respond, hugging her back.

“Never better,” she says cheerily.

You greet Mia, Kiyoomi’s dad, and finally his granny, who looks as healthy as ever.

“Oh my, we finally meet, honey,” Granny says, kissing your cheeks.

Everyone settles at the dinner table after Kiyoomi’s mom, dad, and granny put their luggage in the rooms. The food is already served, thanks to Kiyoomi.

“Please help yourselves and enjoy the meal. We're so happy to have you here,” you say, holding Kiyoomi's hand.

As dinner progresses, the conversation naturally flows towards the match. Suddenly, Komori clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention.

“While we’re here, I want to announce something,” Komori begins, his voice filled with anticipation. He grabs Mia’s hand and kisses it.

You widen your eyes, mouth agape. “Oh my…”

“We’re expecting a baby!” Komori announces with a wide grin.

“Congratulations! Oh my god!” you exclaim, jumping up to hug Mia and Komori. Everyone else quickly follows, offering their congratulations.

Komori adds, “Actually, the only one here who already knew about this is Granny.”

You look at Granny, who smiles proudly. “I’m so happy for both of you! I guess my advice worked then,” she laughs. She adds, “Actually, I brought something special for you both.”

Granny gets up and returns with a bag. “Here, I brought these sweet potatoes. They’re good for fertility,” she reveals, looking pointedly at you and Kiyoomi.

You exchange glances with Kiyoomi, trying to hide your surprise.

“And also this,” she pulls out an amulet from the bag. “This is an Omamori. Please put this in your room. I gave one to Mori not even six months ago, and look at them now!” she exclaims happily.

You muster a smile and thank her. Komori tries to contain his laughter, earning a glare from you.

Kiyoomi’s mom chimes in, “I know you might not want to have a child immediately, but eating sweet potatoes is still good for you either way,” she says warmly.

Granny interjects, “Don’t delay having children! I want to see my great-grandchild!”

You smile wryly, feeling awkward with Kiyoomi beside you.

“There are also some supplements here. You have to trust me,” Granny insists. “Look at your mothers,” she says, pointing to Kiyoomi and Komori a bit too eagerly. “They brought healthy children into this world. You both even became athletes I’m so proud of,” she says, her eyes starting to water.

Komori and Kiyoomi nod, looking down.

“Thank you so much, Granny. We will definitely follow your advice,” you say, holding Kiyoomi’s hand, trying to calm the situation.

Kiyoomi looks at you with an unreadable expression, and you send him a forced smile.

After dinner, you all move to the living room for dessert. The atmosphere lightens as you serve the lemon ricotta cake, which is a hit. Granny shares stories from her youth, and Komori and Mia talk excitedly about their baby plans.

As the night winds down, dinner concludes with Komori and Mia saying their goodbyes. You encourage Kiyoomi’s parents and granny to rest, while you and Kiyoomi stay behind to tidy up the dining area and wash the dishes.

Silence envelops the two of you, a lingering tension from the earlier discussion about having a child. You struggle to find the right words to ask him, feeling the awkwardness yourself. You know Kiyoomi feels it too, given his unusual tenseness. When you both finish, you almost forget you’ll be sleeping in Kiyoomi’s room, instinctively walking toward your own room. You mutter under your breath, “Fuck,” realizing you can't escape this tense situation.

Kiyoomi glances at you slightly as you enter his room. "I'm sorry, I forgot," you chuckle at yourself. After changing your clothes, there’s a knock on the door. Exchanging glances with Kiyoomi, you both walk to the door and open it.

It’s Granny, smiling as soon as you open it. “Sorry to interrupt. Here’s the Omamori,” she says, handing you the amulet. “Put it beside your bed.” She takes a peek into the room. “There, on the desk is fine.” She points at the desk beside the bed. You smile politely and thank her.

After closing the door, you face Kiyoomi. “Let’s just put this there,” you suggest, pointing to the desk. He nods and walks to the bed, lying down.

As you both lie in bed with the lamp dimmed, you feel Kiyoomi rolling to face you. You glance at him and see he’s already looking at you.

“What?” you ask.

“Should we talk about it?” he responds.

Yup, you really can’t dodge this any longer. You sigh, “Yeah, we probably should.” Kiyoomi closes the distance between you. He lies on his side, supporting his head with his hand, looking down at you. You roll on your side to face him.

“So…” you start.

“Do you want a kid?” he asks.

“I do, actually. How about you?” You play with the fabric of his shirt as he answers.

“Me too.”

You widen your eyes a bit. This conversation is heading somewhere significant. “But maybe not now?”

He looks at you. “I’ll go with you. It’s up to you really.”

“But like…” You hesitate a bit. “Are you okay having a child with me?”

He frowns at your question. “I’d be happy. Are you?”

You’re a bit surprised at his answer but then nod your head. “I’m okay too.”

“Okay,” he says. Then, he kisses you gently on the lips, his hand traveling downward. You pull back slightly, “Wait, wait.”

He looks at you with a hint of amusement. “There are your parents and granny.”

He chuckles softly. “They won’t hear. As long as you keep quiet.”

You scoff at him incredulously. “Okay. So you’re freaky like that.”

But then, he starts to rub at your clit, making you moan, though you suppress it with your hand. He presses his cheek against yours. “Yeah. Maybe.”

He starts to enter his fingers into the combination, making you a moaning mess as you struggle to keep your hand over your mouth. You glance at the desk, seeing the Omamori. “I’m scared to be pregnant immediately,” you say breathlessly.

He chuckles, kissing your cheek. “It’s just my fingers, baby.”

Your breath hitches at his words. After you finish, he pulls his hand from your pants and licks his fingers. You stare at him incredulously, noticing the bulge in his pants.

“Don’t even think about it,” he says.

You look at him questioningly. “Just clean yourself and let’s just sleep,” he adds.

Who the fuck wants to go to sleep hard? You shake your head, laughing. “You’re a psycho.”

“What? I just don’t want to make a mess.”

“I’ll swallow it clean,” you offer, determined. He grins at your persistence.

“No. Let’s just sleep,” he insists.

With that, you go to the bathroom to clean yourself. When you return, you find him already asleep. You slip under the blanket, starting to drift off yourself. In the last few seconds before sleep takes over, you realize the irony of how the topics you decided not to discuss have presented themselves so prominently in your face.

Taglist: @wolffmaiden @peachyaeger @fiannee @nightlydream @choizzn @yunskook

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overrboarrd · 17 days ago

Text

sanctuary [3]: kick off

firefighter!roman reigns x azure clarke [oc]

warnings: brief mention of spousal loss, light drinking, lots of football

word count: 5.5k

a/n: hello my beautiful peoplee <3 sorry this update kept getting pushed back, i've been annoyingly busy these past couple weeks. this chapter is a chill one, but i really hope y'all like it! the next update may be delayed a couple days cause my birthday is next weekend and i'll be outsideee 🤪 but yeah, i appreciate y'all always! thanks for reading <3

Azure stood at the kitchen counter, pulling a few dishes from the small box she had finally decided to unpack. It wasn’t much—just some mugs and plates—but it felt like progress. The morning sunlight streamed in through the window, casting a warm glow over the bare kitchen. She leaned against the counter, staring at the mess of cardboard and packing paper, absentmindedly turning over a mug in her hand.

She pulled out a few plates, stacking them on the counter, then paused when her phone rang. With a soft smile, she picked up the phone and answered, cradling it between her ear and shoulder. “Hey, Jade.”

“Hey girl! You settled in yet or still living out of boxes?” Jade teased, her voice bringing a bit of comfort to Azure’s morning.

“Definitely still in the 'living out of boxes' phase,” Azure laughed lightly. “I’m unpacking the kitchen right now, but it’s dragging.”

“Ugh, I hate unpacking,” Jade groaned. “But you doing okay? I’m sorry I didn't call sooner, my father in law’s birthday was this past weekend, and you know how Reggie is when it comes to going to his parents’ house.”

A soft smile spread across Azure’s face, “It’s okay sis.” Her teeth captured her bottom lip in contemplation. “I’ve actually met a few people,” Azure admitted, trying to sound casual, but she knew Jade would pick up on any hesitation in her voice.

“Oh? Do tell.”

“Just some neighbors. They helped me move some boxes.”

“That’s good!”

“Yeah, they’re... really nice. Two guys, twins, Jimmy and Jey. Invited me to a cookout later on today.”

“Wait, twins? And they already invited you to a cookout?” Jade teased, a playful edge to her tone. “That sounds promising.”

“It’s not like that,” Azure laughed. “They’re really nice but definitely married. And then… there’s their cousin,” she hesitated. “Roman.”

“Okay…” Jade’s voice trailed. Azure swore she could hear a hint of a smile as Jade continued. “Tell me more about this Roman guy.”

“We talked a little. He welcomed me to the neighborhood, but I think I might’ve rambled. I was telling him about my day at work, how Dr. Rollins pulled me aside because I was running late.”

Jade hummed thoughtfully. “And?”

“And, well… I don’t know. Roman just seemed kind of tense when I mentioned Dr. Rollins. I might’ve made things awkward.”

“Girl, you did not make it awkward. You were just trying to spark up a conversation, right? You haven’t talked to new people in a while… it’s going to feel a little weird. But that doesn’t mean it was bad.” Jade’s voice softened, offering the kind of encouragement Azure needed. “Maybe he’s just one of those quiet shy guys, you know?”

“Maybe,” Azure said, biting her lip. “It’s just—I don’t know. It felt like I was rambling, and he didn’t say much.”

“Azure, stop,” Jade said firmly. “You’re doing great. You’re starting to meet people, and that’s good. Just because it wasn’t a perfect conversation doesn’t mean you blew it.”

Azure sighed, knowing Jade was right but still feeling that small nagging doubt. “Yeah, I guess.”

“And what’s this about the cookout?” Jade’s tone shifted, playful again. “Are you going?”

“I don’t know if I should. Jey and Jimmy invited me, but I feel like it might be too soon, like I don’t really know anyone well enough to go.”

“That’s exactly why you should go! You’re invited, Azure, and it’s a cookout. You’ll meet more people, and it’ll give you a chance to see Roman again. Maybe even smooth out any awkwardness from yesterday. Come on, you gotta go.”

Azure leaned against the counter, cracking a few of her knuckles. “I don’t know…”

“No ma’am. No excuses. You’re going. Next time you see the twins, tell them you’re coming,” Jade insisted.

After a long pause, Azure sighed with a small smile. “If I see them, I’ll let them know I might be there.”

“I guess that’s better than nothing. You’ll have a good time, I promise.” Azure heard Jade exhale a deep breath before she continued. “Azure...” Jade’s voice softened, “I know it’s scary. You’ve been through so much, and it makes sense that you’d want to protect yourself. But you can’t close yourself off forever. You deserve happiness, too. And maybe that happiness is waiting for you in this new place, with these new people.”

Azure’s eyes stung with tears. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear that. “It’s just... hard. Every time I think I’m ready to start over, it feels like…” A lump starts to form in her throat. “Like I’ll forget about him.”

“You’re not going to forget about Derrick,” Jade said firmly. “You’re honoring him by finding a way to live again.”

Azure swallowed, her emotions swirling. “Thank you for that sis.”

“Of course girl,” Jade said, her voice lightening. “And remember, I’m always here if you need to talk, okay?”

“Thanks, Jade. I really appreciate it.”

After they hung up, Azure looked at the small kitchen box she hadn’t quite finished unpacking. Jade was right; she needed to put herself out there, even if it felt strange and unfamiliar. Jade’s words echoed in her mind, but the fear remained. She had come here to start over, but every step toward something new felt like she was leaving pieces of herself behind. She wanted to blend into the newness of this place, to feel the laughter, the warmth, the life around her. But what if it hurt too much?

What if joy felt like a betrayal?

Could she really open herself up again?

The thought of Roman tugged at her, though she quickly brushed it aside.

Azure strolled out to the front porch. With a sigh, she pocketed her phone and made her way to the car; the gentle warmth of the Pensacola morning wrapping around her like a light blanket. The street was quiet, a slight breeze rustling the trees overhead as she unlocked the car and leaned in to retrieve a bag of things she had left the day before.

As she pulled the bag out, she heard the familiar rumble of a car engine from across the street. Glancing up, she noticed Jimmy pulling into the driveway at Roman’s house. He hopped out first, his usual energetic self, followed by a woman she recognized but had never formally met. Jimmy’s wife, she assumed, was stunning, her dark hair framing her face perfectly as she moved with an easy confidence.

Jimmy noticed Azure first. He waved enthusiastically before leaning over to say something to his wife, who looked in Azure’s direction and smiled.

“Aye, Azure!” Jimmy called out, his voice warm and friendly as always.

Azure froze, caught in his enthusiasm. She smiled politely and gave a small wave. “Hey, Jimmy.”

Without missing a beat, Jimmy nudged the woman, and the two of them started walking across the street toward her. “Thought we’d come say wassup before we head inside,” he flashed her a grin.

“Hey, I’m Naomi. We haven’t officially met, but I’ve seen you around.” Naomi smiled brightly, her energy as vibrant as her husband’s. Azure nodded, feeling a bit of the tension ease as she introduced herself. “Yeah, I’ve seen you, too. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Naomi’s eyes sparkled, and she gave a quick glance toward Roman’s house. “We’re getting ready for the cookout at Jey’s, and Jimmy mentioned you might be coming?”

Azure shifted her weight slightly, unsure how to respond. “Yeah...I was thinking about it.”

Jimmy chuckled, nudging Naomi with his elbow. “What’d I tell you? She’s still on the fence.”

Naomi swatted his arm, turning her attention back to Azure. “You should come. It’s gonna be fun—nothing too big or formal. And Jey always makes sure everyone feels welcome.”

Azure bit her lip, feeling a mix of nervousness and uncertainty. “I appreciate the invite. I guess I just feel... out of place since I don’t really know anyone yet.”

“You won’t be out of place at all.” Jimmy chimed in again, his tone playful but sincere. “We all family. Besides, if you ever need someone to talk to, you got us.”

Naomi seemed to sense her internal debate. “Hey, no pressure. If you decide to come, we’d be happy to see you. If not, there’s always the next one.”

Azure glanced down at the bag in her hands, weighing her options. She didn’t want to keep feeling like she was isolating herself, not after Jade had basically given her an entire pep talk over the phone.Yes, it was just a cookout, just an afternoon with her neighbors. But it was more than that. It was a choice, a small crack in the armor she’d built around herself, a chance to remember how to belong again. Finally, she took a breath and looked back up at Naomi and Jimmy. “You know what, I’ll come. I could use some fun.”

“Great!” Naomi’s face lit up. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

“Yeah, we’ll have a good time,” Jimmy added with a wink. “Glad you’re coming.”

Azure felt a weight lift off her shoulders. It wasn’t much, but agreeing to the cookout felt like a step forward. “Thanks y’all, I’m looking forward to it.”

“Here, give me your number.” Naomi said, pulling out her phone. “That way, if you need anything or want to come over early, you can text me.”

Azure quickly rattled off her number, feeling more at ease while Naomi typed it in and smiled.

“Alright, we’ll let you get back to it,” Jimmy said, giving her a quick wave before heading back to Roman’s with Naomi.

“See you later!” Naomi called over her shoulder with a friendly smile.

Azure watched them go, feeling lighter as she stood by her car, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Roman stood in the doorway of Audrey’s room, watching her small figure nestled under the covers. The soft rise and fall of her breathing filled the quiet space. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he leaned against the doorframe, taking in the sight of his daughter. She always slept so peacefully, a contrast to the whirlwind of emotions and responsibilities that often swirled around them.

He took another sip of coffee from his mug, savoring the warmth. His mind drifted back to his conversation with Azure the night before. She’d been so open, talking about her day at work and how Seth had checked in on her. Her words replayed in his mind: “He pulled me into his office just to make sure I was adjusting okay.”

A familiar tension crept into his chest, his grip tightening around the mug. Rollins. Even just hearing his name brought up old resentments, ones he hadn’t realized were still buried so close to the surface. But this wasn’t Azure’s fault; she didn’t know the history, and she definitely didn’t need to bear the weight of it.

The sound of soft footsteps broke his thoughts, and Roman looked down just as Audrey appeared at the doorway, rubbing her eyes.

“Mornin’, angel,” he murmured, setting his mug down on the side table. He scooped her into his arms, her tiny body warm and heavy with sleep, her head nestled against his shoulder.

“Morning, daddy,” she mumbled, still half-asleep.

He ran a gentle hand over her back. “Did you sleep okay?”

She nodded, her cheek pressed against his shirt. “I dreamed about Uncle Jey’s dog. He was chasing Kitty around the house.” A little giggle escaped her, and the sound brought a lightness to his chest he didn’t realize he’d needed.

“Oh yeah?” Roman chuckled, hugging her tighter. “You think Kitty’s ready for the cookout today?”

Audrey perked up, her eyes brightening as she pulled back to look at him. “Are we going to Uncle Jey’s?”

“Mhm. Uncle Jim and Auntie Naomi are comin’ over soon to grab some stuff for the party. You’ll get to see everyone.”

Audrey wriggled out of his arms, a new energy lighting her face as she ran back into her room, ready to find the perfect outfit for the big day.

A smile still lingered on his lips as he made his way downstairs, only to hear a knock at the back door. He set down his coffee as Jimmy strolled in, his familiar grin lighting up the kitchen, Naomi right behind him.

“Morning big uce!” Jimmy called, already heading toward the fridge.

“Morning, Roman,” Naomi added warmly, giving him a quick hug before playfully swatting Jimmy’s hand away from the orange juice.

Jimmy leaned on the island, his grin unfazed. “Thought we’d swing by early, help you grab the cooler and some extra chairs for later.”

Roman nodded toward the garage door. “Should have everything in there, but let me know if you need an extra set of hands.”

“I’ll handle it,” Jimmy said, sauntering toward the garage.

Naomi took a seat on one of the barstools, resting her elbows on the counter as she looked at him with a curious smile. “You ready for today?”

“After all this work I’ve been doin’, I definitely need a break.” he admitted, but his thoughts wandered back to Azure, and the tug of their conversation lingered in his chest.

Naomi’s eyes sparkled knowingly. “Oh, by the way, Azure’s coming to the cookout.”

Roman looked up, surprised. “She is?”

Naomi’s grin grew wider, clearly enjoying his reaction. “Yep. She was hesitant, but I convinced her. Got her number and everything.”

He exhaled, trying to act indifferent, but his gaze softened. He hadn’t meant to come across as distant last night; he was just... caught off guard. The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable.

Naomi must’ve noticed his thoughtful silence because she placed a comforting hand on his arm. “Want me to help Audrey get ready?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Roman said, the slight edge in his voice fading away. “She’ll be excited to see you.”

As Naomi left, Jimmy returned with the cooler and a few chairs. He noticed Roman’s thoughtful expression and raised an eyebrow. “I was gone for two seconds, uce. What got you lookin’ like that?”

Roman shook his head. “Talked to Azure last night. She mentioned Seth.”

“Rollins?” Jimmy’s face shifted, his casual demeanor replaced with a more serious look.

“Yeah,” Roman murmured, the bitterness creeping back. “Can’t believe he’s still tryna charm his way around. She doesn’t know, though. She doesn’t know what went down with him… with the chief.”

Jimmy rubbed his chin, his gaze sharp. “You still holdin’ onto that?”

Roman didn’t answer immediately, instead staring at the floor. His muscles tightened with a memory he wished he could bury deeper. "It’s hard not to hold onto it," he said quietly. "You know what almost happened. That mess with the chief… my career was on the line. All because of him."

“Yeah, I remember.” Jimmy grimaced, the weight of the past hanging in the air. “But come on, that was years ago. You made it through. Hell, you got promoted after all that.”

“I know, but it wasn’t easy.” Roman shook his head. “I had to work twice as hard to get back in their good graces. The way Rollins played it, he could’ve ruined me. I can’t just forget that.”

Jimmy crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter. “Look, I get it. Seth fucked you over, no doubt. But that’s his problem now, uce. You moved on, and you been solid ever since. He don’t get to mess with your head every time his name comes up.”

Roman met his cousin’s gaze, his grip on the mug loosening. “It’s just… hearin’ her talk about him like that— like he’s some kind of good guy? I can’t stand it.

Jimmy grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “You’re protective of her already, huh?”

“Not like that.” Roman’s voice was defensive, though he felt a flicker of something he couldn’t name. “She’s new. Tryna be neighborly, s’all.”

“Sure, uce.” Jimmy clapped a hand on his shoulder, bringing Roman back to the moment. “Just remember, today’s about family. Rollins can’t mess with that.”

A soft sigh fell from Roman’s lips, finally feeling a bit of the tension drain away. He nodded, letting Jimmy’s words settle over him.

As Jimmy took the cooler outside, Roman took a long breath, listening to the house come alive around him—the sound of Audrey’s voice drifting down the stairs, Naomi’s laughter mixing with it, and the faint hum of the van outside. Today was supposed to be about family, about finding peace in their little corner of the world.

But as the day unfolded, he couldn’t shake the feeling that seeing Azure again would bring more than he was prepared for.

The late afternoon sun bathed Jey’s backyard in a warm, golden light as the cookout got underway. Azure felt the humid warmth settle on her skin as the smoky, savory aroma of grilled ribs and burgers filled her senses. The laughter and familiar scent made the yard feel like a haven she hadn’t realized she needed. Picnic tables were scattered around, some with folding chairs and coolers brimming with drinks nearby. The end-of-summer air mixed with the distant sounds of football from the TV inside, made for the perfect backdrop to the Saturday afternoon. Kids ran across the grass, their voices blending into the hum of the adults chatting around them.

Azure arrived a little after two o'clock, gripping the strap of the small bag that hung over her shoulder. Her steps were careful as she approached the yard. Her eyes scanned the familiar faces of Jimmy and Jey, who were already loud and welcoming, laughing as they teased each other near the grill. Watching Jimmy and Jey bicker lightheartedly made her smile, but a small pang of loneliness crept in, a reminder of the family gatherings she missed back home.

Roman, she noticed, was there too. He leaned against the wooden fence a bit further back, but still near his cousins with a beer in his hand. As soon as Roman caught sight of her, he offered a small, friendly smile. It was a polite acknowledgment—nothing more, nothing less—but enough to make her stomach flip. She smiled back, feeling his eyes linger on her for a moment longer than needed, but he didn’t approach. She quickly moved to Naomi, who was arranging plates and utensils on the table.

“Hey, girl!” Naomi greeted her warmly, her bright smile infectious. “You made it! Jey was starting to think we’d have to send Jimmy over to drag you out the house.”

Azure laughed, feeling some of the tension melt away. “Ixnay the wellness check y’all, I‘m here in the flesh.”

“There you go!” Jey happily chimed in from the grill, flipping a row of burgers with exaggerated precision. “Stick around—it's gon’ be a great time.”

Jimmy sidled up beside the women, grinning ear to ear. “And don’t forget the game! It’s the best part of the cookout. You watch football?”

“Here he goes.” Naomi shook her head smiling while she finished setting up.

Azure smiled sheepishly. “I might be a little into it. I usually watch a lot of the games with my dad.”

“Aye, that's what we like to hear!” Jey exclaimed, transferring some of the food off of the grill and into an aluminum pan. “We take football very seriously ‘round here.”

Naomi rolled her eyes, though the fondness in her voice was undeniable. “That’s one way to put it. These two are like little kids whenever football's on.”

As they continued to talk, Azure felt a little more at ease. She enjoyed the lighthearted banter between the twins and Naomi, appreciating how they welcomed her. Naomi, especially, seemed attuned to Azure’s hesitance and kept things easygoing.

Roman, who had been watching them from a few feet away, finally stepped forward, offering a drink. “Hey, Azure,” he said quietly, though his voice carried easily over the noise. “Glad you could make it.”

Azure looked up, meeting his gaze. “I almost didn’t.” She admitted, accepting the drink with a gentle smile. “Y’know, your family is very persuasive. But this,” she gestured to the yard, “It’s nice.”

“They are.” He gave a firm nod in agreement, though his tone remained soft. “And I get that. Sometimes, meetings’ new people feels… complicated.” His words carried a weight she understood, a vulnerability that was subtle but genuine.

“Yeah,” Azure replied, pausing as she gathered her thoughts. “Especially when the past tends to follow you wherever you go.

Roman’s eyebrows rose just a bit. “Yeah, exactly.” There was a moment of silence between them, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Instead, it felt like an unspoken understanding, a quiet space where words weren’t needed.

“So, yesterday-”

“Man what kind of play was THAT?!” The sound of Jimmy shouting at the TV drifted over from the back door of the house, interrupting Roman.

Azure chuckled nervously, nodding in the direction of the commotion.

“They weren’t playing when they said they took football pretty seriously, huh?”

Roman let out a small laugh, glancing toward the house. “Oh yeah, it’s basically a family requirement. You’re either all-in or on the sidelines, and there’s no in-between. But-”

“I think I’m gonna head inside, the game sounds like it’s getting pretty good.” Azure gently tapped her fingers against the glass bottle of her beer, cutting Roman off.

“Right,” he replied, her heart racing slightly as she stepped away from him, grateful for the excuse to avoid the conversation. I’ll see you in there?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Roman cleared his throat, watching her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.

•────────────────•

Inside the house, the game was in full swing, and Azure eventually found herself in the living room, drawn to the TV. She smiled as she watched the players race down the field, her heart speeding up with the game’s intensity.

A little girl soon wandered over to her, eyes wide with curiosity as she plopped down beside Azure on the couch. "Are you watching the game too?" The girl asked, her voice small but full of interest.

Azure looked up, recognizing her immediately. Roman’s daughter. "I sure am.” Azure grinned. “Do you like football?"

Audrey nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Uncle Jimmy and Uncle Jey always watch. Daddy watches sometimes too."

She hadn’t even noticed the little girl mimicking her movements, sitting cross-legged on the couch and watching the game with the same focused expression. It was hard not to smile at the sight.

"I bet your uncles get really into it, huh? They’re over there shouting louder than the TV." Azure smiled, her eyes flicking towards the open back door where the twins were already deep in a loud debate over a recent play.

Audrey giggled, her eyes lighting up. “They do! Uncle Jimmy says the refs are ‘blind as bats,’ but I don’t know what that means. And Uncle Jey is always yelling.” Azure laughed as Audrey went on about her time with her uncles, with a mix of childlike intensity and joy.

Azure noticed Roman from the corner of her eye, catching his gaze for a brief second before looking away. Her heart raced, the conversation from the previous evening still lingered between them, but the last thing she wanted to do was embarrass herself even more.

“Aye, uce! You just gonna stand there and look moody all afternoon, or you gonna go inside with everybody?” Jey yelled across the yard.

“See.” Audrey added, causing Azure to to suppress a laugh.

Roman chuckled, shaking his head as he made his way over to the group. As he settled onto the arm of the couch next to Audrey, he glanced at Azure, the playful spark in her eyes meeting his own.

“Think you’re stealin’ our cheerleader here.”

Azure raised an eyebrow. “Maybe she just knows a good team when she sees one.” She glanced down at Audrey, who giggled and nodded in agreement.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Roman said with mock offense. “Guess I’m just the backup then?”

“Looks like it,” Azure shot back, a glimmer of humor in her eyes. She relaxed against the couch, her hands resting on her lap as she kept a slight distance.

“Careful, Roman. You might lose your spot for good if she keeps this up,” Jimmy teased, settling in his own seat as he glanced at the game on the TV.

“I don’t know, uce.” Roman rested his arm on the back of the couch. “I think I can handle the competition.”

•────────────────•

Throughout the afternoon, Azure caught him watching her more often than she expected. Their eyes would meet and there he’d be—his gaze lingering on her, studying her. It’s just curiosity. She told herself. Just the same polite interest people held when meeting someone new, yet there was an intensity to it she couldn’t ignore.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the yard, the cookout started to wind down, with people moving inside to clean up or grab their last plates of food. Azure decided to stay behind in the kitchen to help clean up some of the dishes. She saw Roman out in the yard, gathering up plates and empty cans, her eyes following him as he stepped through the sliding glass door and joined her at the counter. The sound of clinking dishes filled the silence between them for a few moments before Roman spoke.

"Thanks for helpin’ out," he said, his voice low but sincere.

"No problem. It’s the least I could do." Azure looked up, setting a plate back down in the sink.

“You mentioned Seth Rollins yesterday," he started, his jaw tightening slightly at the name.

“I didn’t mean to bring up anything uncomfortable...”

“It’s fine,” Roman paused, drumming his fingertips on the marble counter before continuing. “Let’s just say we had some...disagreements in the past.”

Azure’s gaze softened as she watched him, noting the tension that crept into his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too much,” she said gently, sensing the weight behind his words.

“It’s not that,” He stared down at the plate in his hand, his voice measured. “I just don’t want you gettin’ blindsided by him if he decides to get involved in anything…beyond work.”

She furrowed her brows, curiosity blending with concern. “Involved how?”

Roman lowered his voice before leaning against the counter, facing her. “Seth’s got a habit of getting close to people, making them trust him, and then…things go south fast if he doesn’t get his way.” His gaze flickered to hers, a shadow passing through his eyes before he glanced down.

“Sounds…complicated,” Azure chose her words with caution. She could sense this was something he didn’t open up about easily.

He shrugged, though a glimpse of hurt still lingered in his eyes. “Just be careful. I’m pretty sure you can handle yourself, but he’s… persuasive. And I wouldn’t want you caught up in his web.”

She nodded slowly.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the room felt smaller, the noise from outside fading into the background. Roman’s gaze softened as he looked at her, a hint of something unreadable in his expression. “Just… watch out for yourself, alright?”

Azure’s voice softened in response. “I will.”

The intensity in Roman’s his expression faded to something warmer. “I have to admit,” he said, crossing his arms casually, “I didn’t expect you to be such a football fan. You might even give Jimmy and Jey a run for their money.”

Azure laughed, a sound that seemed to light up her whole face. “I don’t know about that. Those two are intense,” she replied, glancing toward the yard where the twins were laughing loudly and nudging each other as they sat at one of the tables, sipping their beers. “I just grew up around it, so it sort of stuck.”

“Oh yeah?” Roman raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued. “Your family must be football people then?”

“That’s definitely an understatement,” Azure nodded. “Every Sunday was a huge thing growing up. My dad’s a big fan of it, and I’d just sit there with him, getting into the game and the whole atmosphere.” Her eyes softened a little, lost in thought. “I guess it just… reminds me of home.”

Roman watched her carefully, noting the brief flicker of nostalgia in her eyes. “Well, you came across the right people,” he said, gesturing to the yard. “Between the twins and Audrey, they’re all in serious need of someone who actually knows what’s happening on the field. I swear Audrey’s been pickin’ up their bad habits.”

Azure chuckled, shaking her head. “She’s already got a bit of Jey’s attitude in her cheer, I can tell.”

He glanced back at the living room where Audrey was napping. "So you’ve converted my little girl to your team, huh?" he teased, still leaning casually against the counter.

Azure raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “I can’t help it if Audrey has good taste. Besides, she was all in after a few plays.”

“I noticed.” A bit of pride evident in his smile. “But I can't help but feel a little jealous that you stole her away from me today."

Azure placed a hand on her chest, playfully taking offense. “I would never! Maybe you should join us and see what it’s like to be on the winning side for once.”

Roman raised his hands in defense, playing along. “Oh, it’s like that, huh? Careful, you might just end up recruitin’ me to your team.”

Azure’s smirk softened, her eyes holding his for a second longer than she’d intended. She liked this playful side of him, a glimpse into something that felt less guarded. “Not sure you’re up for the challenge,” she shot back.

Roman chuckled, his usually stoic demeanor breaking with the smallest of smiles. “Tell you what,” he said, reaching into his pocket for his phone, “maybe next game day, you can give me some pointers. Since you’re so sure I’d lose.”

Her eyes widened slightly, the offer surprising her. She paused, then nodded, taking her phone out too. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said, her fingers hovering over her screen. “And if Audrey sticks to my team, you’ll know why.”

Handing his phone to her, Roman watched as she keyed in her number, a spark of warmth flickering between them. When she handed it back, he gave her a small nod, glancing down at the new contact saved on his screen. “Guess I’ll just have to work twice as hard to win her back,” he said, his voice low, but his smile hinted at a more personal admission.

Azure gave him a playful side-eye, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

•────────────────•

Dear Brother I know I said I’d write to you sooner, but I keep finding it hard to put everything into words. I feel a lot worse than I let on, and it dredged up so much I’d been burying. I couldn’t take it anymore—the control, the way everything's been twisted to make me feel guilty. I thought putting distance would help clear my mind, but the past just won’t stay in the past. I hate feeling like this, and knowing that there’s nothing I can do to change it. Oh, and about that person I met a while back…it’s been…really good, actually. It’s comforting and freeing in ways I hadn’t imagined. And I didn’t realize how much I needed that until now. I think this might be something real, and that thought scares me but also excites me. You two would be the best of friends, I know it. I just wish you could be down here with me. I love you, always.

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x black!oc #firefighter!au

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