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#don’t worry don’t worry I work on the original thing next week
iced-souls · 10 months
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I like how I’m always like “WHY HAVENT I FINISHED MY ANIMATIC YET ITS BEEN LIKE A YEAR BROOO COME ON BRAIN!!!”
and then proceed to binge-draw an entire storyboard for an entire song for another animatic off of an entirely different thing
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sistertotheknowitall · 7 months
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“But to the BatFam? That is just Some Guy. A random dude - if you will.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’m missing my spleen.”
“Oh cool, yeah, missing organs suck. I’m missing a kidney and part of my liver. Oh! And my gallbladder but that was more of a necessary evil, it was like, poisoning me or something.” Danny was so focused on applying pressure to his wound (and maybe being a bit too light headed) that he didn’t notice how silent his friend had gotten. Like-wise the comms had gone equally quiet as Gotham’s vigilante family realized that they knew very little about this kid.
It was concerning how quickly they all started to see him as a friend considering it was them as vigilantes he interacted with the most. Tim was the only one who saw him frequently when out of the suit because he was a regular at Danny’s day job. (He worked as a barista in the coffee shop Tim favored.) The others saw him occasionally but more often than not it was just in passing. Steph, Duke, and Dick had to stop themselves from approaching him on the street.
It was odd, one day he had just moved to Gotham, seeming to appear out of nowhere, and then the next he was a constant presence in their lives. Usually armed and ready with a concerning or odd quip, it had started with him being another victim of the city’s petty criminals and had snowballed from there.
Now it wasn’t like the bats saw Danny everyday, but it was expected that he would cross paths with at least three of them before the end of the week. They ran into him more often than any other Gothamite, including the criminals and rouges they fought.
At first the constant meetings by “coincidence” was suspicious. If he wasn’t the one being saved from a mugging, kidnapping, or city wide villain assault, then he was near by and trying to help.
(“Trying to help” usually meant drawing attention to himself so the original victim could escape. Once it had meant Danny armed with a baseball bat against four grown men. Bruce and Dick have tried to talk to him about putting himself in harms way but the kid is surprisingly elusive when he wants to be. Yet, even when avoiding Batman and his eldest, Danny could be found on the patrol route of another family member.)
But honestly? The guy seemed just as exhausted as they were of seeing each other. By the twelfth time in a month, Danny had accused them of stalking him.
The background check Bruce and Tim had run came back clean and he never seemed to be involved in the various criminal activities. He was just there, a weirdly unlucky bystander. So as far as Dick and the others could see, Danny was a completely normal dude. He just said strange things and wasn’t intimidated by them, he actually made it a point to be unhelpful sometimes. When trying to learn his name he gave them the run around for two months. (“I know about stranger danger. I don’t care how often you say you’re the ‘good guys.’ I’m not falling for it.”)
On one memorable occasion Danny had disappeared for a week and a half. When they started to assume the worse, he popped back up behind the counter at work. Tim had relaxed significantly when he entered the shop to Danny organizing pastries in the display case. Once he’d placed his order, the young CEO asked Danny if he’d been on vacation. To which Danny had just sighed and told Tim “I wish, but no I was called to court to handle some affairs I couldn’t get out of.” (After a check to see if Danny had gotten charged with something and coming back empty, Tim had concluded that it was an odd way to say he had had jury duty.)
Thinking about it now, outside a stray comment or two, Danny didn’t talk about himself or his life. They knew he didn’t have a good relationship with his parents, “they were much more goal oriented than that joke of a kidnapper, but I think drugs do that to a person.” (It was still unclear if he meant his parents were kidnappers themselves or on drugs.) They knew he had an older sister who would “kill me again if she finds out I was in another bank robbery.” They also knew he was, possibly, depressed after last week’s comment of “is it considered murder if you’re already dead but, like, still alive?” (Damian had saved him from a drug ring but after another “baby ninja” comment the young Robin had threatened to give Danny back to his would-be murderers.)
Dick knew Danny was a weird guy who never wanted to elaborate on the things he said. (Jason was still confused on what he meant by “rotted milk soul.”) That didn’t mean the comments themselves didn’t say a lot about him. And tonight’s comment, accompanied by the prominent and jagged autopsy scars, said more than Danny was probably willing to share.
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pedgito · 2 months
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𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | Joel Miller x reader — Series Masterlist (part i)
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↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi
summary | Moving in with you soon-to-be stepfather is the least of your concerns while under the unfavorable regime of your mother—but then there's Joel, Tommy's brother, who always know just how to soothes your worries.
author's note | this was originally supposed to be a tommy x reader idea that morphed into joel and here we are. special thanks to @chaotic-mystery and @swiftispunk for lending me their beautiful minds and helping this make more sense <3
content warning | 18+ smut, DDDNE - this is very loosely stepcest, so if that's not your thing, ignore. that's the only warning i'm giving on that, additional warnings: no outbreak, step-uncle!joel, age gap (20/late 40s), religious trauma, parental trauma (mentally, with one instance of physical), und*rage drinking, contradiction all over the place, joel is a broke man who makes horrible decisions, reckless behavior for reader, mast*rbation, voyeurism, one-sided flirting, joel can keep your secrets <3
word count —9.2k
PART TWO, PART THREE (tbd)
“Married?”
There’s the wiggle of your mother’s fingers, the shine of the small diamond under the natural light streaming through the window to your shared two bedroom apartment—being twenty and still living your mother wasn’t ideal, but it was all you could manage at the moment. You force a grin and take her hand, examining the jewelry.
Tommy had actually talked to you weeks ago, a prerequisite to going through with the whole ordeal, making sure that it was okay with you. It wasn’t that you minded Tommy, he was a good man—too goddamn good for your mother, who always seemed to find a way to ruin something. Everything. You wanted to warn him, but even as much as you despise your mother on most days, he made her happy.
“It’s been a year,” You comment offhandedly, “you’re sure he’s the one?”
She snatches her hand away with a bitter gaze and fiddles with the engagement ring, pacing her way around your shared living room.
“Can’t you just be happy?” She pleads, so petulant and whiney. Like a child, “For once?”
You shrug, “I like Tommy, he’s a good guy. It’s just—he’s the only man you’ve dated since…”
“Baby, I know what I’m doing.”
Your eyes flick up under a lazy gaze, seemingly unconvinced. But, you mask it well.
“So, are you going to elope then?”
She shakes her head, suddenly shaking with a subtle excitement that has her bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“No, honey—we’ll be planning a wedding. Small, of course. You know Tommy doesn’t have much family.”
Just a brother, whom you’d never met. You never heard about anyone else.
“And—“
That’s a tone you don’t like.
Anticipation. Hesitation.
“We’ve been looking for a house.”
“Oh?”
So, she was kicking you to the curb. Time to leave the nest, grow up—blah blah. 
But, she continues.
“And in the meantime, we’re going to move into Tommy’s childhood home!” 
You cringe externally at the excitement, “What’s wrong with our place?”
“We’re gonna be saving every penny we can, cutting costs where it seems easier. Joel is offering to let us live there for the time being rent-free, given we take care of the place.”
Joel. You knew a name. Not a face. A personality. Only that he was Tommy’s older brother. Worked with him, spent weekends with him. That was it. He seemed like a lonely man from a distance.
“So, you’ll do just that,” She remarks, a definitive look that allows no argument, “we’ll be out of here by the end of the month.”
“That’s next week, mom—“
“Then, I suggest you get to packin’.”
Unbelievable.
“You can’t be serious—I don’t even know him. Do you? Have you even met him?”
“Once or twice,” She shrugs casually, “He’s a private man, but he’s nice enough. I’m not questionin’ it, honey. Tommy is a good man, I can assume Joel is, too.”
Your mother spots the disdain the moment it crosses your face, a finger held up in reprimand.
“You are as ungrateful as they come,” She bickers and then follows the shame, “what would he say?”
Your eyes drag up toward the ceiling, feeling the echo of a scripture you’ve heard time and time again—different words, same meaning, “Thou shalt love thy—“
“—neighbor as thyself,” Your mom finishes, a prosperous grin on her face, “Go on, wash up before bed.”
Even as you graduated and started college, still living under the conveniences of your mother, she felt the need to guide and protect, preaching whatever bullshit she’s swallowed down the past twenty years of your life.
She wasn’t like this before, in fact, it was strikingly opposite. But, she’d had you young, regretted her choices, and while trying to be a good mom had found something to cling to, to help guide her back to some semblance of sanity and safety. 
Unluckily for you, it means years and years of strict teaching and rules that made no sense to you now. Hell, they had stopped making since long before that, given the way your mom has relaxed on her morals since she met Tommy, a man that was nowhere near religion or under the constant fear of something other.
You questioned it everyday—tried to fight it, but then the guilt creeped in.
It was your own mother’s doing; a rigorous and methodically set out schedule when you were young, everything followed by prayer or reminders from your mother. He’s always watching. As you grew older, into your body and started to question—it was never outwardly, but your mother took notice and found that shaming you for your inherent provactiveness was easier than guidance. In fact, punishment was an even easier route, most of the time.
“They’re having a cookout tomorrow,” She calls over her shoulder as you depart quietly to your room, somehow more exhausted from a five minute conversation with her than anything else you’ve done all day, “so, best behavior, alright?”
You don’t even try to hide the roll of your eyes that time, sighing softly and answering with a tired, “Yes, of course.”
It would have been hard to predict how that day would change the trajectory of your life completely.
The house is beautiful, really. Deep in the back of a suburban neighborhood, right in the middle of Austin. It was lively—kids playing, neighbors conversing over gates from their lawns, music blaring through the streets. 
But frankly, it was fucking weird.
You're halfway up the driveway when Tommy opens the door, spots your mother first and swoops her up into a hug that lifts her off her feet, a squeal escaping her.
When it’s your turn, it’s a gentle but quick hug. An even softer pat on the back as he welcomes you in.
Welcoming you to what would soon be home. 
Temporarily, at least.
“Come on,” He calls back toward you both with a nod of his head, “we just got finished on the grill and the game is about to hit kickoff, y’all are just in time.”
You step past the threshold, enveloped in the homey smell of vanilla and citrus, something a little savory—which you assumed was the food, and some of the scent from fresh cut lawns from the neighborhood seeping in through the open windows. 
Tommy’s closing the door behind you before he comes around your side, yelling out with his hands cupped around his mouth.
“Joel, get ‘yer ass in here!” Tommy yells, slightly jarring as you flinch at the loud sound. Tommy seems to notice and offers an apology with a kind rub of his hand against your shoulder, “Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. He’s hard of hearing—“
“I’m not,” The man grumbles as he rounds the corner from outside, walking through the sliding door with a tray of freshly cooked patties lined up in rows, “my hearin’ is perfectly fuckin’ fine.”
Tommy seems careless to dismiss it as your mother offers Joel a polite greeting which he returns with what you can immediately spot is a forced smile. Then, Tommy introduces you. Your smile is just as forced, but out of the inherent nervousness of the situation, offering a small wave that Joel returns with a nod.
“Food’s done,” Joel offers as a change of subject, “game’s starting so—“ He waves vaguely at the array of food, “have at it, I guess.”
“Did you wanna say grace, baby?” Tommy asks, looking over at your mother.
“No—no, I’m sure you and Joel don’t do that,” Your mom looks at you, rubbing a surprisingly gentle touch over your cheek, squeezing gently, “We can say it to ourselves right, sweetie?”
Your eyes avert toward Joel who looks more uncomfortable now then when you walked in. You nod regardless, shrugging away from your mother’s touch. She doesn’t argue and returns her attention toward Tommy, thankfully.
You move curiously, examine the different toppings and add-ons, sides, and different treats. It was far more than you were used to—a nice change to your mothers botched box dinners and takeout ordering that always ended up wrong. 
Joel moves mechanically, eyes on the screen as he slaps his burger together, sliding you the bag of buns like clockwork, almost as if he sensed it. It was the only tangible acknowledgment he’s made aside from the nod. But, beyond that—it was silence.
He was an odd man. Quiet, reserved—part of you understood. It was uncharted territory, two mostly strangers in his home. You’d be a little annoyed too.
But, you remember your mother’s words. So, you make an attempt.
His hip is digging into the counter at the edge of his kitchen as he holds the plate to his chest and eats his burger, messily and starved, scarfing it down in very few bites. He catches you staring at him curiously, shamefully taking the first small bite of your own burger. He doesn’t react at you, but he does consciously wipe the mess of grease around his mouth as he sets his plate down, aiming to set himself up with another burger.
“It’s nice,” You say suddenly, the lack of elaboration apparent and Joel raises his eyebrows in unison, “—your house, it’s…nice.”
Above the low rumble of music playing on the radio—something you can determine is a rock song, of what band or song name you have no idea, and the sudden voice of Tommy yelling over a fumbled pass, which Joel also echoes his frustration with as he catches the screen over your shoulder. You jump, turning over your shoulder to look. 
Joel seems to notice the way you startle, “‘M sorry,” He apologies kindly, “and…thank you.”
It was hard to settle and feel comfortable, knowing that normally, in any other situation, your mom would be judging them—the music, the course language, the entertainment of boys throwing a ball around and tackling each other. It wasn’t in her taste or her faith to condone such things. 
But suddenly, with Tommy, none of it mattered. It was jarring, to say the least.
Joel leaves you after that, taking a seat on the separate recliner from the couch your mother was sharing with Tommy, somehow entranced in the game and Tommy’s answers to her questions. Everything was overwhelming and in the midst of another yelling match at the screen with your eyes locked on the sight as you blindly walked backwards into the counter behind you, you felt your elbow hit a can and suddenly the liquid was spilling over your feet.
You yelp in surprise, catching only the attention of Joel. You scramble, picking up the can before sliding it into the sink, stepping out of your now ruined sandals and feeling suddenly overwhelmed by everything—the noise, the smelly, sticky mess of liquid all over you and your clothes.
Joel’s footsteps are heavy but swift, his plate sliding over the island as he rips off a wad of paper towels over your head and turns on the faucet, “That’s my bad—forgot my beer was there,” You look up at him wide-eyed, feeling him guide your hands under the stream to wash away the mess, “you alright?”
It feels like someone was twisting your gut in their grip—you’ve never heard those words aimed your way before and the anxiety engulfs you. Joel was already crouching down by then, scooping your ruined sandals into his hand and nodding toward the backdoor, “We can wash these off and leave ‘em outside to dry.”
You nod dumbly, watching him run them under the water, but his eyes examine you closely and the quick rise and fall of your chest, “You can follow me outside, if you’re needin’ a break.”
Again you nod, but you’re sure that time. You step over the small puddle on the floor and your face scrunches up in disgust, sensing the presence of your mother as she comes into view.
“Oh, honey—you made a mess.”
“She’s alright,” Joel stresses, “I left my beer there, s’nothing some napkins and water can’t clean up.”
There’s a silent reprimand behind her eyes, something you would hear about later or something she was storing for another time, “C’mon,” Joel’s voice saves you and you follow, shying away from the piercing look of your mother, feeling the wave of relief after Joel closed the backdoor behind you.
“Accidents happen,” Joel offers as a reminder and a sense of comfort, placing your sandals on the concrete as he reaches for the hose, turning the spout and watching as it sputtered out slowly before it steadies and he spray them down before catching your feet, washing away the foamy liquid.
You jump slightly, mostly from the change in temperature against the humid, sticky heat of the sun as it beats down over the house, “You got that look,” Joel says offhandedly, reaching over to turn off the spigot and wrap the hose up.
You glance up at him, stepping out of the puddle of water, “What look?”
“Like someone stuck you in a cage full of bears and you ain’t got a clue how to respond,” The comparison makes you laugh, not because it was ridiculous, but because it was true. “I got—I got a place you can sit for a while, if you need the silence?”
There’s a weight lifting off your chest, one you hadn’t realized was there until he says the words.
You nod and Joel crooks a couple fingers your way, beckoning you to follow. 
Joel leads you back into the house, but takes a sharp right to the set of double doors leading to a separate room—bookshelves and stacks of unorganized papers, a desk cluttered with random items and an old desktop, an even dustier radio stuffed away in a corner.
“It’s my office, don’t use it much anymore,” Joel explains, but taps at the open double doors, “but it’s a good place to block out noise, if ‘ya need a minute.”
You step past him curiously, leaving a trail of wet footsteps that Joel would eventually clean up later. It was cluttered in the room but somehow brought a sense of comfort, clearly a place that Joel seeked out himself from time to time.
“There’s books, magazines—feel free to use the computer,” Joel waves vaguely, “although, I dunno how well it works, haven’t turned that thing on in ages.”
“Thank you,” You tell him sincerely, watching him nod as he closed the doors behind him and gave you free roam to look around, be curious.
And naturally, you were.
He had a large collection of music—CDs and cassettes, a shelf full of vinyl albums. Books, tons—something you assumed he’s collected naturally over the years. Most of it seemed fairly boring, non-fiction books on various topics; how-tos and instructional guides, nothing exciting. Your gaze tracks to his desk, running your fingers along the chair before you’re pulling it out and taking a seat, the plastic creaking with age.
You press a key on the keyboard but the computer refuses to come to life—you chew at the inside of your cheek, looking around at the pattern of squares on the wall, like missing pieces plucked from the wall—like dust collecting around picture frames that were no longer there. Your fingers dance along a drawer, twirling in your seat as you pulled at the handle and find a drawer full of thick files. But, on the top, a book with a sticky note is sitting alone, completely out of place.
Leave it, you tell yourself. 
Still, your fingers reach for it.
It’s a thick book, a soft-matte touch from cover to cover. It was mostly unsuspecting, a plain cover of a mirrored forest, the post-it stuck over the title but you’re too scared to remove it. You flip it over, reading over the summary on the back. The summary is dull, unsuspecting, but as you flip through the book, skimming from chapter to chapter you realize it is not that.
And to be fair, you knew this type of genre was something people were interested in, never laying eyes on it yourself. But, to see it stuffed away in the desk of one Joel Miller, is a fair surprise—you examine the text, hanging on every word as you delve deep, deep; into a scene of voyeurism amongst a group. Somewhere between that and the next chapter you get lost, only resurfacing when you hear a knock at the glass door to the room.
The book snaps shut as you spot Joel, who’s peeking his head in with an emotionless gaze. He could just be checking to make sure you’re not snooping too deep, but then he’s walking toward you at a leisurely pace, a fresh beer in his hand as he squints, looking at the book in your hand.
He plucks at the post-it and chuckles slightly.
“Forgot that thing was in there,” He tells you, “Tommy bought that—year ago, I think? One of his stupid gag gifts.”
“You’ve never read it?”
Joel shakes his head, lips pulled in a tight line of indifference as he sipped at his drink.
“If you like it, you can take it with you.”
And then he realizes his misstep, your eyes meeting awkwardly.
“I mean, I’ll be here permanently come Sunday, so—”
Joel smiles slightly, a subtle quirk of his lip, “Well, least I know you’ll bring it back.”
You follow his movement, his fingers gripping the aluminum can and the perspiration from the can wetting his fingers, sweating down his wrist and you subconsciously lick your lips before your teeth are dragging, digging into the flesh of it. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing with the movement and Joel catches you, your intrigued gaze and volleys it with a question.
“Did you want a sip?” He says, mostly as a joke.
He remembers the time Sarah had come to him, piling onto his lap and with her constant stream of questions—he’d let her have the tiniest sip as she kept pressing on it and Joel knew there was no use in fighting the steadfast energy of an eight year old.
She hated it, immediately retching in disgust. Joel gave her a chuckled “I told ya so, kiddo.”
This was different, though. 
“I’m not twenty one,” You counter, mouth quivering down into a slight frown and your shoulders shrugging instinctively, “and my mother would kill me.”
But, you want to—not even driven by an act of rebellion. It was genuine curiosity.
Joel tilts his body, peeks around the corner and spots the pair still sat on the couch.
“What she doesn't know won’t hurt her,” Joel crosses that line for you, your hands cupping around his larger one as he guides it to your mouth, “s’not like you’re gonna go get piss drunk, right?”
You giggle softly at that, lips pressing into the can as he tilts it into your mouth. The vision of him is…overwhelming. Stood over you in the mostly unlit room, barefoot and jeans rubbing at the top of his feet, dark cotton shirt pulling over his shoulders and a few weeks of facial hair unkempt and outgrown. 
If your mother were to see, it would have been you.
Your fault. And again, maybe it was.
But Joel, he towers. You’re nearly eye-level with his waist but admittedly, they never leave his face. You sip gingerly, fingers curling around his own as you tip your head back and consume more, until your cheeks are puffing out with the liquid and you swallow, immediately grimacing at the taste as you pull away, sputtering out a soft cough as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
“It’s an acquired taste,” Joel defends, not even bothering to wipe the rim as he takes another sip, somehow finding that more intimate than any of what had just happened between you both.
Neither of you say anything and you shake your head, fingers curling around the book in your lap.
“I’ll take your word for it,” You nod, but Joel can see the disgust for it on your face.
“Go on, take the book home,” Joel offers, “ain’t gonna be missed ‘round here.”
You smile sweetly, licking over your lips and tasting the remnants of the alcohol, a sign of sin amongst the many you had just committed, but the lack of guilt was startling. You couldn’t even begin to care.
When you leave, the book is tucked away in your bag and hidden. Joel is already cleaning up by the time your mother is rushing after you out the door and to the car, leaving a curious Tommy to linger around, helping Joel sparsely before he’s bugging Joel for a lighter.
Joel had quit smoking long ago, but still had a few lighters tucked away in his study.
Tommy searches around aimlessly, sifting through cups and drawers until he’s pulling open one, pausing, calling over to Joel curiously.
“You finally put up that book I gave you a goddamn century ago?”
His answer is your name as he turns the faucet off, wiping off the final dish.
“She seemed interested so I let her borrow it,” He calls over to Tommy, who’s leaning up with a wide-eyed but amused expression—it was clear that his brother was sometimes just as oblivious as him.
“Joel, you never read the damn book, did you?”
“Was I supposed to?”
Tommy makes a face, a smug smile fading in for a brief moment.
“Tommy, what was the book about?”
Tommy eventually finds the lighter, snatching it up with a ‘aha!’, trailing back over to Joel before he finally answers him.
“Thought I’d spice up your nightly reading, brother.” 
Joel can piece his words together; the innate smugness and tone that was edging toward a full-on chuckle, it wasn’t an appropriate piece. And given the stuff he did know of your mother, the worst choice of a genre for you to sneak home with.
“Did I do a bad thing?” Joel asks, “I mean, that girl is an adult—”
“Twenty, yeah. But, her mom—”
“Your fiance,” Joel clarifies, “she’ll be your step-daughter soon too, you realize that?”
“She can be a little—”
“Judgemental?” Joel finishes for him, drying his hands off with a dish towel before it toward the empty counter, “Freakish? She’s got your ass goin’ to church every Sunday, ain’t seen that before.”
Joel sighs, a clipped noise as he scratches at his forehead.
“I’m not judging, I swear. But, her moving here—I’m not feedin’ into that whole schtick.”
Tommy holds his hands up in defense, “She knows—”
“I fuckin’ hope so.”
The vision of the scene is imagined under the safety of your room that night, squinting to read the text under the dim light of your bedside lamp, words amongst feelings that weren’t foreign but often weren’t welcomed. You’ve had boyfriends and kisses, experiences like any other girl has, but you’ve shoved it away for far too long—it was years of high school, shying away from boys and girls only to finally find the freedom to branch out in college, but under the constant reminder of you mother’s generosity to allow you to finish schooling without the stress of work or the responsibility of earning your keep. He’ll guide you, she’d always remind you. A constant reminder that you were under his watch, more of a threat than anything. And your mother knew that.
The hand tucked under your chin switches to the other, your now free hand trailing down your chest and under the sheets, slipping past the snug waistband of your underwear. The scene was vivid, descriptive as the man pulled the female characters legs apart, exposing her, doting her with the kind of words that made your stomach swirl and your gut twist, dragging your middle finger down the center of your pussy and sighing at the slick that was already there, gathering up the wetness until you could guide it over your clit in quick, hurried circles.
You snap the book shut, biting on the corner of your pillow as you squeeze at the squishy fabric, squirming under the feeling of your impending orgasm, muffled moans slipping from your stuffed mouth as you feel it crash over you in a wave, eyes squeezing shut so tight you start to see the light. 
The comedown is slow, rolling over onto your back and silently slipping the book under your pillow and the guilt you usually feel is filled with nothing. You were empty, thoughts filling with vague images of someone, a man—faceless, but if you dug hard enough you’d know. 
So, you do. 
And with his face comes something you felt so often but pushed away.
Desire.
And for the one person you know you shouldn’t. 
The move takes place a few days later, endless hours spent packing boxes and putting the rest away in storage, several trips back and forth from the apartment to Joel’s house.
You often had to remind yourself it wasn’t Tommy’s. It was Joel’s—but Tommy was his brother and he wasn’t going to turn him away, so if there was anyone to respect, it was Joel.
The house had three bedrooms; Joel’s, the one Tommy and your mother would share, and the room with a door painted purple and covered in various things. Butterflies, flowers—it was off-limits and you didn’t attempt to make anyone budge on that matter. It was a sore spot for both of the Miller brother’s and when Joel offers up the attic, you’re quick to take it.
He’d even taken the time to make it somewhat liveable. A fresh coat of white paint, storage for clothes and some of your belongings you’d decided to bring along, a space for your bed and plenty of the furniture you couldn’t part with. Besides, it was nice having a level away from everyone else.
“The ladder does get stuck from time to time,” Joel admits as he stands a few feet away from you, watching as you look around curiously, “so, just give a holler. Hopefully one of us’ll be home if that happens.”
You laugh softly, dropping your bag to the floor and crouching, unzipping it and reaching in for a very specific item, pressing it into Joel’s hands as he’s expecting. His fingers curl around the side of the book and there’s an unspoken tension that fades as he speaks.
“Our secret, alright?” Joel’s eyes don’t leave yours, waiting for the confirmation of a nod.
You nod meekly, “She’d kill me, you know? I mean, not physically, but I’m sure she’d have an opinion on it.”
Joel nods in understanding, “Like I said, our secret.”
And given how rough the day was on everyone and once your bed was finally assembled in your room, you find yourself passing out without a moment of idle thinking, the exhaustion taking you the moment your body hits the sheets.
You wake up when the day has already gone, crickets chirping outside and the distant buzz of street lights outside the window above your bed. It’s dead silent in the house otherwise, aside from the hum of the central air and fan tucked in the corner of the room. You roll over and tap at your phone. It was a few minutes from midnight, one day fading into the next without waiting for you to catch up.
You rise groggily and rub at your tired eyes, placing your feet on the hardwood floor before deciding to take a walk down to the kitchen, feeling the dryness of your mouth as you licked at your lips. You’re careful as you open the entrance to the attic and lower the ladder, careful and quiet footsteps as you make your way down and close it, surprised at the growing hum and voices coming from the living room.
You edge close, soft and gentle footsteps as you pry the cabinet open and reach for a clean glass and turn on the faucet, filling it up halfway with water—that’s when you hear the hmph that warns you that you weren’t alone, spotting Joel turning over his shoulder to look at you. 
He seemed half-asleep too and you suspect he fell asleep on the couch, insomnia or exhaustion getting the better of him, you offer a quiet apology as you sip at the water.
“You’re alright,” He assures, rubbing two hands over his face and through his grown out locks, curling around the side of his neck and around his ears, “I was heading to bed anyways.”
Unlikely, you think. 
“What are you watching?” You speak softly, arms crossed your chest as the glass cup dangles from your fingertips, bare thighs pressing against the edge of the couch and Joel adjusts slightly, subconsciously making room for you. 
“Dawn of the Wolf,” Joel answers through a long yawn, “you seen it before?”
You tilt your head with a raised eyebrow, “Joel, come on—”
“Right,” He chuckles tiredly, “It’s some cheesy action movie I’ve seen a thousand times, it’s a—sometimes I just throw it on for background noise, hate sleepin’ in silence, you know?”
“Could you make it a thousand and one?” You ask curiously.
The bed he was heading toward was suddenly forgotten, watching as you eagerly climbed over the side of the couch and curled up on your own cushion, smiling slightly as he reached for the remote and started the movie over.
“Were you actually heading to bed?” You ask as the opening credits begin to play, “Because, if you were I won’t be offended—”
“I mean, I could. Probably need to, the havoc this couch does on my back.”
You offer a kind but lazy smile, half of your mouth arching up, “Besides, I’d ask way too many questions.”
Joel never does move, though. Almost like he’s resigned himself to that position until the movie was over, watching you occasionally with that familiar glaze over your eyes. It was the last movie he’d watched with Sarah before she passed, a few weeks shy of her fifteenth birthday.
By now, it was more of a foolproof method to help him sleep.
It was mostly poorly choreographed fight scenes and a dialogue heavy relationship between the two main characters that progressed unrealistically fast, forcing a laugh behind your palm after the male character professed his love after two days of knowing the other character and even Joel shakes his head at that. But, as the penultimate point of the movie comes, it hits a peak.
They’re sitting around a fire, obvious and unspoken tension lingering that snaps in an instant, one touch on the other and they’re on each other—Joel leans forward, reaching for the remote to skip past the scene, “No, don’t,” You tell him gently, your hand pressing against his palm.
The remote loosens in Joel’s grip and he settles, feet crossed over the coffee table.
Your head tilts, “It doesn’t even come across real,” You comment, “or believable, I guess.”
The sex—or lack thereof, a swarm of lust-filled gazes and strategically placed camera angles. It was mostly heavy pants and moans and Joel coughs into his balled fist to break the silence. You snicker softly and pull your legs up near your chest, head resting against your hand as you watch.
“Probably because it doesn’t work like that,” Joel comments after a while, pulling your attention to him suddenly, “sometimes it’s just—”
“Fucking,” You answer crudely, “for the sake of fucking.”
Joel looks like he wants to keel over, his face contouring in surprise as the words slip past your lips. It’s a sight, a matching set of pajamas he’s sure your mother gifted you, covered in some pattern that mimics the innocence that lies within you, a soft pastel color on satin fabric and that definitive cross that dangled at the center of your neck, slipping just between the press of your breasts—and yet, here you were, speaking to him like sin incarnate. 
“What?” It was amusing, in a way, “I got a strict mom, doesn’t make me a total prude.”
“Okay,” Joel feels the line drawing itself in the sand, or in this case, the middle of the couch, “you’re right—but we can move on from that.”
You offer a soft hum of acknowledgement, smiling at the way Joel continues to shake his head, biting back his own amusement in response.
Somewhere between there and the end of the movie, you both end up asleep on the couch, your feet tucked away in Joel’s lap and his hand resting over your ankles. It was easier falling asleep knowing Joel was near, oddly enough.
Things are set into motion very quickly after the first couple days. With wedding planning in full swing and your mother returning to her night shifts at the hospital, it was a sudden newfound freedom that you’d never experienced. Tommy and Joel were gone often too, sometimes for days at a time to work on site, only popping in every so often for little things. Showers, food, before they were back out for another twelve or so hours.
And with your semester of college over, you were left with the void of summer to fill up your time. It does take some convincing, but eventually your mother isn’t hovering as hard. Truthfully, you could thank Tommy for some of that.
“She’s not even a teenager anymore, she’ll be alright.”
It didn’t ease any of the restrictions she put on you in the past and it didn’t make you feel any better for feeling like you had to lie, hide—doing normal things that even if she did as a young girl, would find any reason to shame you over.
But, you were thankful with her infatuation over Tommy because it gave you a break.
Late nights at the beach with friends or last minute trips to the drive-in, it was a sorrowful peek at what you could have had for years, but only had the luxury of exploring recently, somehow always ten steps behind, still feeling that familiar strum of nervousness run through your body at the sight of a crush, somehow even more unavoidable now.
And Joel, well he hasn’t helped either.
Eventually, his own curiosity gets the better of him and he does read the book. His reader’s perched on his nose as he leaned back in the recliner, knowing that if he’s caught onto your schedule well-enough, you’d find yourself downstairs within the next few minutes.
You blamed the insomnia, but you always liked Joel’s company. At night, without the scrutinizing gaze of your mother when she was around, it was easier. 
You’re spreading peanut butter on a plate of sloppily sliced apples when you hear Joel flipping through the page of a book, the cover obscured by the knee he had propped up to lean it on.
“Anything interesting?” You ask casually, screwing the top back on the jar of peanut butter and leaning up on your toes to return it to the top shelf, ignorant to the eyes that catch your backside and the stretch of your top as it exposed your ass and the small piece of your underwear that peaked over the waistband of your shorts. 
You could blame it on the heat and that was partly the reason, but Joel notices the longer you settle in, the more comfortable you get, the conservativeness becomes less and less. It was subtle, shirt pulling up over your midriff or the collar of your shirt dipping a little lower than usual.
This time it was the shorts that hugged your ass and gave him an idea of every curve your body had been hiding and he felt his throat closing up at the thought, clearing it instinctively.
Joel sips on his beer, nursing it more like, as he shrugs and flips to the next page.
You’re curious, sliding the plate into your palm and making your way toward him, finger sliding over the cover and lifting it. Joel doesn’t stop you, but he rolls his eyes at the grin that breaks out on your face, tongue pressing into your cheek and you know–he knows.
“Good, isn’t it?” 
If he only knew how many times you found yourself knuckle deep inside of your cunt with a whisper of a sigh on your lips, shame for the obscure pictures of the characters slowly morphing into him—it wasn’t like you had tried for that, your own subconscious betraying you. 
Something in the bridge of your words and the look on your face has him pushing his glasses up his forehead and into his hair, swiping an apple off your plate and into the thick peanut butter before he’s shoving the fruit into his mouth and biting into it with a loud crunch.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” You smirk, walking backwards slowly until your calves hit the couch and you took a seat, turning it to a random channel playing some televised drama, legs stretched out in front of you and the gentle slope of your shoulders on display as you shoved the apple slice past your lips, licking up the remnants of peanut butter on your finger and Joel almost forgets what he’s doing, feeling the book slip from his hands and hit the glass bottle still half full, sending it pooling into his lap and you look over with a tickled expression. “Too much, I guess?”
“You’re a little shit, you know,” Joel comments as he tosses the book aside and departs quietly, bedroom door shutting behind him as he turns in for the night. There wasn’t an ounce of bite in his tone.
Joel doesn’t know what he expected of you—maybe something more docile, but you were anything but as time grew on and you realized that under the obvious distraction that your mother was dealing with, you found yourself pushing that line more and more.
There’s a particular night when an argument with your mother ends up with Tommy and Joel getting caught in the blowback of it, leaving both of the men at a loss for words. It was the first time they had seen the real, full extent of a meltdown from your mother. Tommy had seen glimpses, blips—but, Joel. It was a first.
It started over a simple question, harmless.
“It’s one dinner—I’ll be there and back before midnight. I don’t see the big deal?”
“Big deal? Honey, we’ve got plans tomorrow. Dress shopping, cake tasting—I was cooking a nice dinner tonight that we could all enjoy, as a family. Seein’ as we’re all somehow, by the grace of god, under this damn roof at the same time for once. And you leavin’ looking like that? I don’t think so.”
Family. Joel seems to find distaste in the word, his eyes flicking toward his brother briefly. He doesn’t understand her final point either, jean shorts and a tank top in the humid Austin heat in the middle of June seemed like a perfectly reasonable option, but it clearly struck a nerve.
“I don’t even know why I’m asking,” You counter, “I mean, this is Joel’s house, after all. Shouldn’t I ask him for permission?” You turn to him, a low blow at your mother, “Joel, do you care if I—”
Joel hesitates for half a second and you thought he might answer.
A sharp, but swift blow to your cheek has you stopping cold, eyes pulling up to anywhere but your mother and of course, they land on Joel who’s jaw is clenched so tight you think it might snap, matching Tommy’s shocked expression but Joel's was laced with an undertone of rage, simmering slowly.
There was nothing but silence, shoving past her with a charge of your shoulder and then past Tommy who has just enough time to side-step and catch your mother as she turns after you, the realization of her actions settling with her, her open hand balling into a closed fist before she drops it.
Joel was quickly discovering that this living situation was a lot more than he’d bargained for.
Tommy had taken your mother out for the night, rented out a hotel after dinner and allowed her the space to cool down but Joel had stayed up, mostly in anticipation that you had forgotten the spare key he’d given you in the quick flee, walking halfway down the block and then some, desperately waiting for your friends to swoop in and save you.
It was just supposed to be dinner at the local diner in town, but catching up with a classmate you hadn’t seen in weeks quickly turned into a night drive that reached well past midnight, eventually pulling out front of Joel’s house, receiving the less than gentle kiss the boy had been building up to all night.
Joel hears the low roar of the engine outside of his house, lowering the volume on the television as he walked toward the door and glanced through the window, fingers curling the small curtain that covered it and there’s a moment where he decides—do something or do nothing, but even then he doesn’t take his eyes off of you.
Not as you lean over the console of the car and into the lap of the faceless person in the driver’s seat, his hand all over you—Joel knows, you’re hoping that your mother would catch, that she’d end up more furious than she was earlier and then some.
The horn beeps as you fumble inside the car, the heat of the moment broken as your back dug into the steering wheel and his breath was hot against your neck and suddenly you wanted nothing to do with this, watching the glow of television through the front window of Joel’s home, knowing he was awake.
There’s a shadow that crosses the window and confirms your suspicion—you weren’t ever truly free, there was always someone watching. Joel seemed like the likely suspect and that was worse than your mother when you actually took the time to think it over.
The departure is quick, shoes scuffing against the pavement as you meet the front door, jiggling with the doorknob before it’s being opened from the other side.
Joel’s eyes follow you as you walk inside, toeing your shoes off near the door and finding that you don’t even have the energy to make a remark at him, nothing funny, nothing snide. You look over your shoulder briefly and find him watching, not so much staring, but he was following your movements. You’re right around the corner as he finally speaks and you stop, closing your eyes as you take a slow, deep breath.
“She’s not home,” He informs you, “left with Tommy about an hour ago.”
It was unwanted information, unneeded. You mumble an acknowledgement but he’s speaking again when he notices you move, forcing you to turn on your heels and look at him.
“Are you doin’ it to piss her off?” Joel asks. His intention was unclear, whether he was trying to get under your skin or not, but with the rage still lurking in the back of your mind, it takes on a mind of its own.
“What do you care, Joel?”
“She ain’t my favorite person, I think you know that. But, if she’d caught you just know, she’d have your ass—”
“She didn’t,” You retorted. It’s the first time you see Joel frustrated, his brow creasing and the hands at his side slide into his pocket.
“You’re actin’ out,” Joel concludes and there’s a squint of your eyes as they narrow that tells Joel he’s right, “and under my roof—”
“Oh, so that’s what it’s about,” You tell him, arms crossing over your chest as you step toward him, floorboards creaking under bare feet as you approach him, “what—are you gonna punish me then?”
“Not my business,” Joel tells you, “I ain’t like your mother. But you keep doing this, actin’ out. Something bad is gonna happen soon enough.”
“Then—what?” You ask, trying to surmise a path to both please him and shut him up—unfortunately for him, you know just how, “Would you rather me act out with you?”
“Now, that ain’t what I—“
“Make sense, don’t it? My mother would be so grateful you’re keeping your eyes on me, watching after her little girl.”
“I suggest you tone it down,” His voice is different—nothing you’ve heard before and it should scare you, but it doesn’t.
“Or what?” You retort carelessly, “You’ll do it for me?”
There was that face again, jaw clenched. His gaze never left yours, only following you as you grew closer.
“You can teach me all the stuff I’ve missed out on,” You smile slightly, “I mean, you’ve done alright so far.”
He says your name and for a moment, it scares you. But, it was a warning—don’t cross that line, don’t blur it.
“I’m messing with you, Joel.” 
It’s a believable lie, one you can even convince yourself of.
His breath hitches slightly, breathing out through his nose as he nods at your response, “Just, be smarter. Alright?”
Your aggressive approach breaks, offering a sweeter smile as you back away, hands falling to your side. He can see the smear of your gloss at the corner of your mouth, half-tempted to swipe it away and clean you up.
“I will,” You appease, “can I go up to my room now?”
Joel offers a lazy glare of dissonance, not giving you an answer before he’s brushing by, off to his office that you hadn’t been able to spend much time in since the cookout. 
If he could be stubborn, so could you.
The tension between your mother doesn’t settle, but she does attempt to be civil. You often thwart off any attempt at a conversation that would lead into anything other than necessary communication. It feels wrong, you know it is—but you couldn’t bear the thought of trying to explain to your mother how you were beginning to believe her so-called beliefs were a complete joke, pushing an insane and untenable rhetoric on you.
Joel isn’t as warm either, keeping his distance beyond the night you had lost your footing with him and slipped, offering him an opening that would lead you both down a dangerous path. It had mostly been a joke but you could never admit to yourself how badly you wanted him to agree. The idea of it.
There is a point where under almost constant supervision of one of them, all of them flitting out of the house at some time or another, that you find a window (figuratively and physically) to sneak out of, preparing yourself for a night that your mother would have shamed you about until you found yourself six feet under. It was hypocrisy, actually–knowing your mother was doing similar things at an even younger age, with much less mindful thinking. 
And you might have pushed it a little too hard when you reach the front door that night, the floor spinning as you fumbled with the lock again—though, of course, Joel was saving the day.
“Do you ever sleep?” You gripe, eyes squinting as you stumble inside and out of your shoes with a wobbly wave of your arms, reaching out blindly for anything but finding nothing, almost tumblring over the motion but Joel is catching your arm silently, holding you upright. 
He knows that smell, you reek of sweet alcohol and cheap booze.
“I was makin’ sure you got home,” Joel admits, “that a crime?”
“Yes,” You slur softly, “and crime—” You giggle slightly, stumbling closer and pressing your hand into his chest to steady yourself, “means punishment.”
Joel looks down carefully, watching your fingers curl over the collar of his shirt and the sensation of your body, warm and so soft as it pressed against his own.
“Unless, you’d rather punish me,” You offer, the deep buzz of alcohol inflicting your mind and thought process as you pull at his shirt, feeling the stitching rip slightly under your grip and you make a delighted noise, instantly leaning forward to press your lips to his neck.
Joel should’ve pulled you away minutes ago, but again, he’d allowed it to go a step too far.
A step closer to breaking—closer to complete corruption.
Joel wraps his hand around the back of your neck and squeezes, pulling you back easily despite your desperate grip, eyes blown out and wide as you peer up at him, so dazed he isn’t even sure it’s you talking.
“You can,” You admit, mouth parting open as you lick your lips, “I want you too, Joel.”
Joel’s nostrils flare as he forces your hands away more sternly, throwing them at your side until the dejected look forms on your face, stumbling back sadly.
“You need to sleep this off,” Joel tells you
But, you already have the idea in mind as you shove him away, stepping around him awkwardly until you can reach the couch, your limbs falling lazily against the cushion as you curl up, hazy gaze meeting his one final time before you eyes close and for once, Joel fides security in his room and tries to calm his rapidly beating heart—a mix of worry and guilt, knowing if he’d had enough alcohol and inhibition in his system he wouldn’t be as strong, given so easily into that temptation as you had.
But, if routine proved you right, it wouldn't be the last time you’d speak to him that night.
Joel was a creature of habit.
The nights that he is able to sleep have been few and far between and he can hear you moving around upstairs, early hours of the morning when he’s in and out of an exhausted daze and in your own similar nature, he hears it. There’s a creak and slow footsteps that traverse the floor above him, but there was no world where he could face you right now. He’s not sure when you decided to move upstairs that night, a curious but lucrative thought in the back of his mind.
Do you remember?
He spends the last hour flexing his achy fingers to distract him from the subtle ache in his pants.
Joel wasn’t a father anymore, the part of him was buried away and long-forgotten, the pieces of that part of him dissolved away through the years of tears and alcohol and constant repression. 
Watching after her little girl.
It’s asinine, knowing you were anything but. He had no intentions of being that sort of figure over you, you didn’t need watching—or guidance from him, even. A protector? Maybe, but that wasn’t his job either.
Keeping your eyes on me.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, in fact. And as the realization clicks, he knows he’s fucked.
He’s barricading himself in the bathroom before he puts himself through the suffering of another nightly conversation with you, especially after how things had left off hours before, turning on the shower in a hurry as he hears the latch to the attic release and your impending arrival.
He strips, pulling his shirt up from the center of his back and over his shoulders, working hastily at his jeans and climbing into the shower, palms pressed against the tile wall in front of him as the stinging, hot water hits his back and soothes the soreness that lingering in his joints. It did nothing for his cock which had gone from half-hard in his jeans to standing proud, insistently.
He couldn’t ignore it—and he knows under the safety of the constant stream of water, muffling out the ragged sigh that escapes his lips as he fists his cock in a tight grip—he hasn’t ached like this in years, knowing he was well past his prime, in his mind. 
Unfortunately, the unraveling of it all would come down to the slippery lock on the bathroom door. It only stuck half of the time, eventually worming its way out of place and leaving the steam to slip through the cracks, but Joel is oblivious.
You find your footing as you step off the ladder, still reeling from your drunken stupor as you make your way down the hall, spotting the faint flickering of a light from the bathroom that told you Joel still hadn’t changed that lightbulb, but also that he was in there—it couldn’t be anyone else. You only vaguely remember your actions from earlier, but you didn’t forget the look on his face—the frustration. The want. Your footsteps are quiet, praying feverishly that they wouldn’t creak under the pressure of your feet as you peek your head into the crack, eyes scanning the mirror placed over the sink and suddenly, they stop.
Freeze, more like.
The shower curtain is shifted back just enough that you catch the front of his chest, so broad that it doesn’t even capture the full width of him, muscles in his shoulders straining as your eyes follow the length of his arm and down, until your eyes connect with the sight of his cock, fisted in his hand as he jerked himself earnestly, unabashedly with impatience. His head is hung too, water damping his hair over his forehead and obscuring his face.
You can hear him, though. God, you could fucking hear him.
His knuckles curl into the tile wall where his other hand still rest, balling into a fist as he punched it out of frustration, grunting with how tightly he was squeezing himself and the pace at which he was fucking his fist. 
It wasn’t the first time you’ve seen such a sight, but with Joel it was bigger, intimidating—in every sense of the word.
His cock, for one, was larger than any you’ve seen before.
And with shame, your mouth watered at the sight. 
His groans, a gentle guh that sounds like a prayer of something else but is strangled, his movements becoming jerky as his speech becomes slightly clearer, “God—fuckin’,” He heaves, the sound of wet skin and water under the speed of his movement, “—girl, always testin’ me.”
You swallow at the mention, fingers curling dangerously around the door frame—one misstep, one slip and you’d swing that door right open, revealing yourself. 
He leans his head up suddenly, eyes closed as his arm works furiously. Your ears are locked on his face now and you see the way his lips form around your name as he utters it, so quiet you barely hear it but it was you. There was no mistaking that.
He comes a few moments later, his thumb rubbing over the tip of his cock and circling as he shot his load into his palm, knowing that he could make a mess if he wanted to but decided not to, using his slick covered hand to drag over his cock a few more times as it softened in his hand.
Fortunately, you’re long gone by the time he’s reaching for a towel, back upstairs like you’d never even been there in the first place.
There was no denying it now, though. It wasn’t in your head—the temptation was real, tangible, and just within reach. 
Because with that temptation came doubt, followed by mistakes.
And really, you wish you were strong enough to resist.
Unfortunately, you weren’t. So, you plan. 
He was already a broken man, but you needed him shattered.
-
divider creds: @/cafekitsune
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honeipie · 5 months
Text
HOCKEY BOYS
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part 1; katsuki bakugo x fem!reader
synopsis: you catch the eye of japan’s best defenseman
authors note: hockey really isn’t big in japan, but it’s big in my heart so anyways-
part two
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katsuki bakugo, the falcon, or at least that’s the name that’s been created for him.
he was known for two things. his love of fighting, and his speed. it could be a split second that someone does or says something to piss him off. next thing they know, they’re on the ground giving the ever living shit beat out of them.
the penalty box was this man’s second home. so it wasn’t surprising that’s where the tickets were most freaking expensive. as soon as he hopped in there fans would scream and cry his name, vying for his attention. he never turned around for them though.
he never batted an eyelash at anyone the wrong way if it wasn’t on the rink. the only people he needed to worry about was his teammates, and if the game was over, he’d focus on himself.
so it came as a surprise to everyone when he started going back and forth with one of the sports reporters at one of the press conferences after a game.
“mr. bakugo i was simply asking a question-“
“well i don’t like your question so ask another one”
your eyes squinted slightly as his behavior. you expected him to be stubborn, but this had to be a new level of it “i don’t understand why my first question wasn’t enough for you?”
“because it’s boring. if you really want me to engage find something better than that. you look like you’re good at your job, so be good at your job”
katsuki wasn’t the kind of guy to date or have flings, but he would still find women attractive, and damn did he find you attractive. makeup all perfectly done and not a hair out of place. not to mention the white pantsuit you had on. it made you stand out among the rest, but the question you asked made you blend right back in. he knew there was more to you then the stupid introductory shit. katsuki knew you had some fire in you, and he was just here to fan the flames.
murmurs started to ripple throughout the room like water. his crimson eyes stayed glued onto yours with every word spoken. you could see through his persona. the quirk up of his lips, the casual lean back from the mic. he wanted you to back down, and not even that. he expected you to.
clearing your throat you nodded “you’re right mr. bakugo, i apologize. i should’ve just been straight up about my original intentions”
“spit it out-“
“since you have joined the team the only thing that i can think of when i think of you is fighting. that’s it. no special moves, no improvement of your work, just fighting. now everybody knows that you’re fast, but you don’t apply your abilities to the right things, now why is that mr. bakugo?”
his face completely changed into something more still. other reporters from the pit started slowly agreeing with you and pointed their cameras back up to him for a response. even from your seat you could see pink creep up from his neck up to the tips of his ears. he was pissed.
and before he could open his big mouth to tarnish his reputation, his manager came into view.
“i think that’s enough questions for now. thank you for attending everyone” with a quick bow, they made their way of the platform. reporters attempted to get up to swarm katsuki with more questions, but the bodyguards stepped in the way of their path. you didn’t bother following the crowd as you packed up your things to leave. you had already had your fill of the man for the next three lifetimes.
if only you knew.
you sat right across from your boss hands held together on your lap. he had called you in here for an impromptu meeting a week after the press conference, and you couldn’t put a finger on it as to why.
he leaned back in his chair gazing at his computer monitor for what felt like forever. right when you were about to open your mouth he sat back up again turning the monitor towards you.
“what is this?” he asked as you analyzed the screen. it was a paused frame of you at the press conference, and you could tell the exact moment as well with katsuki’s facial expression directly in the frame. unnerve filled in your stomach, but you decided it was best if you kept your composure. after taking a deep breath you looked back at him.
“that’s me at the conference. i was asking mr. bakugo a question”
he nodded his head in understanding turning the monitor back in his direction “a question. a question that made his damn manager have to stop the whole press conference just to make sure this man didn’t ruin his career”
the feeling spread from your stomach down through your legs making them bounce at a mile a minute “i know it might look bad-“
“look bad? kid, this is amazing”
the shaking in your leg came to a halt when you heard his praise.
“i- thank you sir”
he took his phone off of the desk swiftly unlocking it “you were able to get under his skin. something i haven’t seen from someone who isn’t off the ice. people are going crazy over this interaction so we’re gonna milk it for all it worth, you got that?”
a soft ping came from your phone and you went to check it.
“that’s the bar that they usually go to after some games. you need a pass to get in and i just sent you yours”
your eyebrows scrunched together looking at it “isn’t it risky to go to a bar during the season? isn’t paparazzi all over that kind of stuff?”
he shrugged going to place his phone back onto the desk “once you see it you’ll understand. the address is right under your pass. go there tonight and try and see if you can get any sort of in with the team. they don’t usually allow locker room interviews so if we strike now this could be a goldmine”
with a sigh, you looked back up at your boss “i’m not sure about this. using my own personal time to go be a double agent. i mean it’s-“
another ping rang from your phone, this time from your bank app. you had noticed a generous amount of money had been added along with the words ‘bonus’ next to them.
“that’s what happens when you impress me”
suddenly, you felt a smile creep up to your face.
“i’ll try and get there tonight sir”
you knew what time their latest game would be ending and decided to head to the bar a little after then. the address that your boss had given you led you to what looked like some sketchy dealing ground. after scoping out the area (and saying a quick prayer) you made your way down the stairs. a man you hadn’t seen before stepped out from next to the door.
“what’re you here for?” he asked, his voice monotone. blinking away the confusion you pulled out your phone silently showing him the pass. he gave it a nice once over before opening the door for you “have fun ma’am”
stepping inside, you noticed how the outside had been very misleading. it didn’t smell like a usual bar. no alcohol intensely filling your senses to the point where you felt drunk from merely standing there. it smelt like a nice cedar wood cologne had been sprayed through the air. that or it was coming from the multiple men scattered around the club who looked like they could buy at least one yacht.
it didn't seem to look like a bar either, at least not the ones you remember from your college days. the bar was illuminated by a golden hue from lamps distending from the ceiling. you walked up to the bar placing one of your hands on the stools. they were pure leather. and the sigh you almost let out when you sat on one of them was embarrassing.
"when i get that raise these are the first things i'm buying" you mumbled to yourself before getting back on track. as subtly as you could you looked around trying to find the team of interest. though what you didn't know is that they already had their eyes set on you.
eijiro and izuku had been whispering back and forth to each other for a good minute. the rest of the team were too deep into their own conversations to notice, but katsuki did. he tried to lean over a bit to hear what they were saying, but they both knew him better than that. they quickly stopped talking and peered over at him.
"hey kacchan, could you get us a drink from the bar?"
"do your feet not work?"
"they do. i'm just actually having a conversation and you don't look like you're too busy"
he huffed in annoyance rising to his feet. without a look back he headed over to the bar.
"two shirley temples!-"
"you'll get what you get!"
eijiro and izuku watched as he walked almost right next to you were sitting.
"how much you wanna bet they fight?"
"oh they're gonna fight. i wanna see if they fu-"
"what the hell are you doing here?"
you had heard his voice before you saw him, but when you did see him, he had situated himself next to you. his hair was still a bit messed up. most likely from having his helmet on at the game. it didn't look bad on him though. in fact, it fit right in with his casual attire. he had on jeans, and a plain black hoodie. something that would be rather casual for a place like this, but you had to remember that this was a casual place for someone like him.
"you might not know anything about this, but i was invited. the thing that happens when you're nice to people and they actually want you to be there?"
"i know what a fuckin' invitation is. you think i'm that damn dense?" he scoffed at your words shaking his head "what i really wanna know is who would want you around for more than five minutes?"
you turned your body to now face him. he was close enough that you could catch a whiff of his cologne. it was sharper than what the majority of the bar, like a spice blend. it filled your senses but didn't let it distract you from the conversation.
"excuse me? i have lots of people who enjoy my company. plus from your reputation i wouldn't think many people would want to hang around you"
he let out a chuckle "you gonna believe everything they say in those tabloids? thought someone who worked in that shitty industry would know better than that"
"okay first of all i do not work in tabloids, i am a reporter. second off, i never said i believed them. i'm just making an assumption from the interactions we've had"
"you call you flaming me in front of a bunch of people an interaction?"
you couldn't help but smile when he said that "so i got under your skin?"
this made him raise an eyebrow "shut up" he finally flagged the bartender over to order the two drinks.
"didn't take you as a shirley temple kind of guy"
"i'm not. it's for those two idiots" he motioned back towards the two men who quickly looked away when you turned your head.
"they seem awfully invested" you lips turned into a playful look of sympathy "do you not feel comfortable ordering drinks by yourself?"
he clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth "you are really fuckin' annoying you know that"
laughter rang out from you at his words, the sound making his stomach do a small flip that he wanted to ignore. there was something about the way you carried yourself. about the way you weren't afraid to tease him, say whatever the hell was on your mind. it was captivating.
"not the first time i've heard that, but it helps with the job. you've got to be able to know what buttons to push. what really gets to a person"
he let out a soft grunt, eyes going from yours down to your lips. his gaze made you want to shrink into the plush leather seat. it never failed to be intense.
"i bet.. if you gave me an hour i could figure out what really gets to you"
the forwardness wasn't expected. especially not from him. you swallowed what felt like a lump in your throat. this would be a good opportunity to convince him to do an interview.
.. yeah, an interview.
942 notes · View notes
springtyme · 7 months
Note
Hey luv, hope all is well. So, I just previously read your spencer x girly!reader and I absolutely loved them. While reading the chess part, an idea sparked.
So if possible could you do something similar where Spencie boy and girly!reader are playing chess and she is obviously frustrated or something because she doesn’t understand. So being the amazing boy wonder he is, Spencer secretly acts like he had no good moves and the reader just starts pointing out the moves he could make not knowing he can clearly see those moves and he lets the reader win making her super excited and happy and immediately sets the board back and starts another game.
I just think it would be so cute to see how Spencer would just gaze at and admire the reader as she is focused and asks questions. If this is too confusing or too similar to the original chess part no worries. It’s simply a mere thought I had. Do with it what you please!!!
Love your works and your blog 🥰🤗
𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲 ♡
Thank you so much, hun ♡ I't makes me so happy to hear that you liked the other ones, I've had so much fun with them. And thank you so much for this request, it's such a cute scenario!
Spencer Reid x girly!reader|| Masterlist || Spencer playlist
summary: Spencer truly can’t believe how lucky he is to have you in his life. With you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters. You keep being patient with him, every step of the way. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot. All he ever want to do is make you smile, even when it means that he has to lose in chess on purpose. Part one & part two 💕
word count: 2.0k
a/n: I was actually in a chess club in school, but we did not play chess, so sorry if the chess parts aren’t very accurate, I tried my best, lol.
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Spencer watches you intently, his heart swelling with adoration at the sight of you trying your best. He can see the determination in your eyes, the way you furrow your brow in concentration, and it only deepens the love he feels for you. Your stained lips pouting sweetly as you contemplate your next move
You let out an exasperated sigh, leaning back in your chair with a frustrated expression. “I just don’t understand this game, Spence. I feel like I’m making all the wrong moves,” you sigh, moving your knight in a random direction. “At this point I‘m just making moves for the sake of it.”
Spencer can’t help but smile at your frustration, finding it endearing how you get so worked up over a game of chess. Moving your knight wasn’t the best move you could have made, but he doesn’t want to tell you that, and it wasn’t the worst move either. He reaches out to gently place his hand on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but he lets his fingers linger for a little while. It always manages to surprise him how soft your skin is, and how it feels so warm and comforting beneath his touch.
You look up at him, your pretty eyes meeting his gaze and Spencer feels how his heart skips a beat at the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks.
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Some people use their entire life to master this game, and you’ve only been playing for a few weeks,” he reminds you. “You’re doing great, and trust me, you’re not as lost as you think you are.”
You smile softly at his reassurance. “So, what I’m hearing you say is that if I keep going, there’s still a chance that I can be a big old chess nerd like you?” you tease, nudging him playfully.
Spencer chuckles at your teasing, loving the way you always manage to make him laugh, something he hasn’t always had an easy time with. “Hey, being a nerd isn’t that bad, okay?”
“No, it’s not,” you agree, leaning in closer to him. “In fact, I think it’s kind of cute.” Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a warmth spread through him at the way you look at him with such affection.
Spencer knows many things, arguably too many things, but he will never be able to understand what you see in him, you’re so beautiful and confident and always so kind to everyone, there is no doubt in his mind that you are way, way out of his league, but he is grateful every day that you, for whatever reason, chose him.
“I’m glad you think so,” he mumbles, a slight blush dusting his cheeks at your words.
“I actually think you’re very cute, you know,” you say playfully, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of his face with a gentle touch. Spencer can feel his heart racing in his chest as he looks into your eyes, seeing nothing but love and admiration reflected back at him.
He leans in closer to you, unable to resist the magnetic pull that always seems to bring you both together. Your lips meet in a soft, tender kiss, filled with all the love and affection that Spencer feels for you. In that moment, nothing else matters except for the two of you and the way your hearts beat as one.
As you pull away, a smile tugs at the corners of Spencer’s lips, a smile that only you can bring out in him. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.
“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes shining with your own smile, bright and full of happiness.
Spencer will never be able to wrap his head around why you love him, but damn he is glad and forever grateful that you do. If he could travel back in time and tell his younger self that he would find someone as amazing and wonderful as you - that someone as beautiful and kind hearted as you would ever love him, he wouldn’t have believed it, he would probably think that it was some kind of cruel joke. But here you are.
It’s overwhelming, really, the love and adoration he feels for you in every fiber of his being. He never knew he could feel this way about someone, never knew that someone could make him feel so alive and complete. The fact that he feels so at home and normal with another person in his life is beyond anything he could have ever imagined.
But with you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters, you keep being patient with him every step of the way and with you by his side, it doesn’t seem so daunting anymore. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot.
“Oh, you got something…” you whisper, almost more to yourself than him. He is confused for a short second, until he feels your thumb brush against the corner of his mouth, wiping away the trace of lipstick that had transferred from your lips to his. Spencer chuckles at the realization, feeling a warm rush of affection for you. “There…” you say with a soft smile.
Spencer can’t help but chuckle at the tender gesture, feeling a surge of warmth behind his chest.
“You can’t keep distracting me like this,” you tease, leaning in closer to him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “I’m actually trying to beat you at this game, you know.”
Spencer’s smile widens at your playful tone, a twinkle in his eye as he looks at you. “Who says I’m going to make it easy for you?” he responds, his voice laced with amusement.
“You did! You literally said that you would go easy on me,” you pout, crossing your arms in mock annoyance.
Spencer laughs, a sound that fills the room with joy. “Okay, okay, I may have said that,” he concedes, “but, I don’t think you really need me to, you know. You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up beating me at my own game someday.”
“I doubt that,” you mumble, looking back at the board with furrowed brows.
Spencer leans back in his chair, watching you with admiration as you study the board, he can see the gears turning in your head. He knows what move he should be doing, the move that could make him win the game, but he isn’t really interested in that.
“Well, it looks like I’m running out of options,” he say, feigning defeat as he moves his bishop into a vulnerable position.
You glance up at him. “You could have moved your rook to that square and set up a potential checkmate in a few moves,”you point out, sounding both surprised and proud that you saw the possible move.
Spencer had, of course, seen that it would have been the right move to make, but he wanted to give you a chance to shine, and to prolong the game. Seeing the pride and satisfaction in your eyes is worth more than winning any game ever could.
“Oh, you’re right,” he says, trying to sound surprised, like he hadn’t seen that move multiple rounds in advance. But he must not be a very convincing actor, and he can’t help but smile as he watches the look of realization dawn on your face.
You roll your eyes playfully, seeing right through his act. “You’re such a goof, Spence,” you giggle, shaking your head in amusement. “But thank you for giving me a chance to show off a little.”
“I guess I just wanted to give you a fighting chance,” he says, leaning in closer to you.
You playfully swat at his arm, a laugh escaping your lips. “Dork,” you tease, but there’s a fondness in your tone that makes his heart swell with even more love for you, and he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, before leaning back again to look at you, his heart overflowing with adoration for you.
You playfully roll your eyes, but there’s a hint of gratitude in your expression. “Well, thanks for the favor,” you say with a smile, moving your queen in a strategic position that surprises Spencer.
He raises an eyebrow in surprise at your move, impressed by your strategic thinking. “Oh, someone’s feeling confident now, huh?” he teases, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
You shrug nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Well, you did say you weren’t going to go easy on me,” you quip, moving your pieces with a newfound determination.
Spencer watches you closely, his heart filled with pride at the way you’re starting to grasp the game more and more and making better and better strategic moves. He can’t help but admire your intelligence and quick thinking, feeling a sense of awe at the way you surprise him at every turn.
And yes, he might go a little easy on you from time to time, but he can see that you’re starting to understand the game on a deeper level. And that, to him, is worth more than winning a game of chess ever could.
As the game progresses, Spencer can see the determination in your eyes, the way you carefully plan out your moves and anticipate his next move
“You’re really giving me a run for my money, aren’t you?” Spencer remarks, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you strategize your next move. You give him a sly grin, clearly enjoying the challenge. “I told you not to underestimate me, Spence,” you say confidently, moving your knight into a position that puts him on the defensive.
Spencer chuckles, impressed by your bold move. “I should know better by now,” he admits, moving his rook to protect his vulnerable bishop. The game continues, each move calculated and strategic, and Spencer can’t help but admire the way you’ve grown since your first game together.
“Checkmate,” you say triumphantly, a grin stretching across your face as you realize you’ve won. Spencer can’t help but smile back, feeling a rush of excitement and happiness at your victory. “Well done, darling,” he says, leaning in to give you a congratulatory kiss.
“I still feel like you went easy on me, but thank you,” you tease, a playful glint in your eye. Spencer can’t help but laugh, feeling grateful for the opportunity to see the excited smile that is lighting up your face, making your already beautiful features shine even brighter with a sense of pride.
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn't,” he teases back, a twinkle in his eye. “But regardless, you did really well, I can’t believe how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time.”
You grin at his words. “Well, I’ve had a really great teacher,” you remark. “And he is, like, sooo handsome too. It’s actually wild that I could even concentrate on the game,” you add with a wink before you’re leaning in to plant a sweet kiss on his lips.
Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a surge of love and adoration for you that he can’t quite put into words, they are too big and too overwhelming to express, so instead he tries to pour every bit of that love and adoration into the kiss that he returns to you.
He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him as he deepens the kiss, savoring the feeling of being so close to you, of sharing this moment. He might have lost the game, but because of you, he has never felt like less of a loser.
As you both pull away, a smile lingers on both of your faces, and Spencer can’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and adoration.
“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes filled with nothing but love and affection for him “Now help me set this board up again, I want to beat you fair and square this time,” you say with a playful glint in your eye. Spencer chuckles at your competitive spirit, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he helps you set up the board once more.
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emptyultimatum · 2 months
Text
SWEATER WEATHER
Avenger AU Loki x fem!reader In which Loki and his girlfriend (you) clash cutely over weather-appropriate clothing.
Loki raised his arms above his head, the shoulders in his scarred back rippling with muscles. His shirt lay on the floor, stripped off and sweaty from his work out. Facing the window, admiring the view of New York, he groaned as he stretched, pulling, reaching. Crrck, pop, crack! 
“Ah, that feels better,” he sighed, rolling his shoulders to settle them. He shook his black curls out of his bun, pulling the hair tie onto his wrist absently. “Darling, where are you?” 
She slid into the room, beaming absurdly at him, arms spread wide. “Look at my sweater.” 
It was July, and a heatwave was rocking New York with a vengeance. Signs sagged in the heat; cars were dangerous to the touch; the sun bounced off glass buildings with such aggression, Loki felt as if his eyes were being burned alive. Thank Odin for sunglasses, which he wore regularly. 
And despite this all, his girlfriend decided to buy a sweater. An overlarge, shapeless, lumpy grey sweater, which had sleeves so long they flopped over her hands like bunny ears. 
“You can’t be serious,” Loki said, staring at the sweater. 
She grinned. “I’m so serious. It’s so comfy.” 
She did look comfy. Absurdly comfy, in fact. The kind of comfy that winter and hot chocolate and fireplaces heralded. And the way that the tops of her thighs stuck out from the bottom, round and plump… He felt a strong urge to pull her onto the bed and cuddle into her for the next week or so. 
But then Loki remembered the hundred-two degree high they were predicted to reach today. 
“Take it off,” he said. “You’re going to melt.” 
“Tony can pay for AC,” she waved him off, bouncing to the thermostat and cranking it low. “Ahh. I love it.” 
He gave her a disbelieving chuckle. “You’re utterly ridiculous. It’s the height of summer, darling, and you bought a sweater.” 
“That’s the best time!” she argued. “Off-season sales! I got this for thirty bucks.” 
“Thirty bucks?” 
“The original price was fifty-eight,” she said stubbornly. 
Loki prayed to his mother. “At least put it in storage until the proper climate arrives.” 
“That’s in months,” she waved him off, sweater sleeve flapping. “I wanna wear it now.” 
“Of course you do.”
“We should make hot chocolate. I’m in a hot chocolate mood.” 
“Naturally, in summer, hot chocolate is a must-have.” 
“And watch Frozen!” 
“This must be some sort of joke,” he pleaded. “What insanity drove you to this? It’s a damn ninety-eight degrees!” 
She cackled. “I like sweaters.” 
“You don’t even wear them!” Loki cried. 
“Now I do!” She climbed into their bed, snuggled under the covers. The AC was properly blasting now, sending cold gusts of air down his sweaty, post-gym skin. She patted the space beside her, smiling up at him. “Come cuddle. It’s cold.” 
“And they call me the Mad One,” he muttered, climbing into the bed. She giggled, putting her arms around him, snuggling him into her chest. 
“Perfect,” she sighed. 
Perfect indeed, Loki smiled into her sweater, feeling its soft fibers tickling his cheek. She was warm, soft, and plush. The perfect place to rest his head, to ease his worries. 
They lay silently together, hearts beating in sync, the summer sun gleaming through their window as the AC pumped cold air into the room. She sighed, pleased, snuggled in her sweater. 
“We do have a mission brief in a few moments,” Loki murmured. 
“I know,” she said. 
“And you’re going to wear the—”
“I’m going to wear the sweater.” 
Loki hid his smile in her chest. “We’d best alert Stark, then, so he might prepare the room temperature for you in advance.” 
“How considerate,” she smiled. “You’d do that for me?” 
“Darling, I’d freeze the world twice over if you wished for snow.” 
She beamed at him, pure and unabashed joy. “Well, it’s a good thing I only want you.” 
Loki’s heart fizzled, his skin tingling with the closeness of her. 
“And hot chocolate,” she added. 
He laughed, and brought her in for a kiss. 
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euphoricimagination · 10 months
Note
hellooo how are you? i was wondering if i could request a scenario where reader finds out her friends were fake, and theyre super rude to her and the boys find out and how they would react. with bokuto, akaashi, and kuroo :3 and if you could add atsumu or suna in there, that would be cool but if not its okay!! thank you so much <3
Of course! Thanks for liking my works! Here's what i came up with
Feat. Kuroo, Bokuto & Suna-> Masterlist
Fake friends
Kuroo
You were sitting in the café while waiting for Kuroo to arrive, he just texted you saying that he’ll be a few minutes late to your date, but you didn’t notice the message, too in your head to even hear the ring of your phone.
Lately you been feeling like your friends were being unnecessary mean to you. Sure, you always were a bit rude to each other, you always were playfully fighting with each other, but things never cross the line about your personal boundaries…until a few weeks ago. Suddenly you fights didn’t had that playful tone in them, they started to feel real, and suddenly, they were messing with things that you had told them were sensitive. You thought that you will be friends with them despite the distance between your univerties, but when you meet up again in person everything felt so different.
You were so absorbed in your thoughts, trying to figure out if you had done anything to them, that you hadn’t listen the door of the cafeteria open, let alone the steps coming close to you or the sweet voice of your boyfriend calling your name; you only snapped away from them when a hand places on your shoulder, Kuroo looking down at you worried as he kisses your temple and sitting down in front of you.
“hey, what’s wrong?” he asked
“Eh? Nothing, don’t worry” you smile at him, hesitant to tell him
“Yeah, sure, tell that to your face next time too” he says playfully, trying to make you smile “you can tell me anything, I’ll help you out however I can”
“well, it’s just….” You sigh before explaining to him the thoughts that were in your head prior to his arrival. He just sighs, he knows your friends and he thought that your bickering was cute, but there was no mistake in their recent actions
“well darling, I could always talk to them if you want me to” he offers, trying to find a rational solution for you first “but…”
“mhm?”
“I personally don’t think is worth it to keep them around any longer” he says, he didn’t want to keep you away from them, but the hurt in your eyes wasn’t a lie “you told them you didn’t like those ‘jokes’, they didn’t listen. If they don’t respect your boundaries there’s no point in being friends”
“I…I” You listen to him attentively before bursting down crying, you knew he was right, of course he was “we’ve been friends for so long though, they were my only friends since high school…”
“I know, darling, I know” he comes to your side, hugging you “you have me for whatever you need; Kenma too, he does like you a lot too even though his personality doesn’t show it; hell, even Bokuto adores you and he met you once before” he says, making you chuckle “and I have no doubt you’ll meet more people in your classes, you’re amazing, anyone that doesn’t want to be your friend is the idiot”
You chuckle again, relaxing into his arms as you try to calm down. Everything will be alright as long as you had him by your side.
“now, let’s order something and go to my place?” he asks you
“Sure, let’s go”
Bokuto
You were hanging out with your friends while waiting for Bokuto to arrive. Well, hanging out with them was an overstatement, after all you were being left out of the conversation after trying to join multiple times, leaving you on the side while they giggle about whatever they were talking about. You eyes were stinging due to the tears that were about to come out, feeling depressed about the way this day has ended.
Originally you and your so called friends were going to hang out during the day on a convention after months of not seeing each other, and everything seemed rather normal in the beginning; but not even an hour has passed when you noticed that they slowly started to put you aside. First every comment you made was ignored or laugh off, then they left you behind while walking, and now they seemed to completely forgotten that you were even there as they talk about a relationship of one of them that you weren’t even aware it was happening. You wanted to call Bokuto to pick you up early, but you knew he had practice so you laugh it off and wait.
But once you saw Bokuto walking towards you, excited grin on his face as he waves his hand, that you tears started to roll down involuntary. With Bokuto affection and attention was never a problem, but after feeling so unappreciated today, his overexcited self was so welcomed.
He saw your tears, confused as to why you were crying before he noticed the way you were sitting alongside your so called friends. They were all together on one side of the table while you were alone on the other, no one sitting beside you as they chit chat with each other. He walked faster towards you, unexpectedly pulling you up of the chair and giving you a big hug
“Hi, my cutie pie” he hugs you tightly, the eyes of your friends popping out as they realize just who was in front of them “why didn’t you called me earlier if you were uncomfortable?”
“you had practice”
“that can wait, coach would have understand!” he adds, taking your bag in his shoulder as he pulls you even closer to him. He then turn towards your friends, who are babbling something to you, and gives them an uncharacteristically serious look “you should be ashamed, no one deserves to be ignored om purpose, let alone someone that you call your friend”
With that he pulls you away from them, but instead of going to his car, he takes you to some stalls
“Aren’t we going home?” you asked
“Well, it’ll be a waste not to enjoy this place! Besides you probably didn’t actually enjoy it, so let’s have some fun first!” he says going back to his carefree self, and while you didn’t know if he did it to cheer you up or because he did actually wanted to be in the convention, you did up enjoying it this time around with your lover.
Suna
You lay in the bed waiting for Suna to come to lay with you, watching social media while he showers after a long day of practice. You had to take your make up off, but were feeling too lazy to stand up right now.
You were supposed to go out with your friends tonight, nothing too crazy, just some hangout with them; but at the last minute they message you telling you that it was cancelled since something had come up. You didn’t mind, you didn’t really enjoyed going out anyways, so staying in with Suna make you more than happy.
That was until you entered Instagram and saw the stories posted.
You saw the normal stories from her day, until you arrived to one that was posted 30 minutes ago, in the place that you were supposed to hang out. You tried to not overthink about it, maybe she ended up going alone since she was already ready; but then you saw the next one, which was posted in the closest friend tab, with the three of them hanging out there and having fun.
Oh.
“hey, we need to buy more shampoo, we close to running out of – you okay?” Suna tells you going out of the bathroom, only a towel on his hips. You pass him your phone, letting him see the stories your ‘friends’ posted as he raise his eyebrows, visibly annoyed “those bitches are the lowest of the low”
You chuckle weakly, you knew he would be the first to curse at them
“hey, you haven’t take that pretty make up off, have you?” he asks tossing the phone in the bed, taking some clothes off the closet
“No I haven’t, why?”
“Well, put some pretty dress on, were going to have some dinner” he says
“weren’t we going to order some take out and watch movies?”
“and let them think they won? Not in my watch, pretty, they have the nerve of post their hangout knowing that you’ll see them, so now it’s your turn to brag”
You chuckle, he was petty, you knew that, so this shouldn’t surprise you at all
“and how do you plan to find a place with space for us?”
“nothing some money can’t help” he winks at you “lets go, a fancy dinner is waiting for my pretty girl”
You did end up in a fancy restaurant, in a table with the best view of Tokyo and the group of your ‘friends’ blowing up with notifications about how sorry they were. You’ll make sure to block them later, for now you’ll enjoy the dinner with your boyfriend.
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rubyuji · 5 months
Text
The Reason for My Smile (Kim Mingyu) 🪡
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“Guys come on, Mingyu is approved by my brother! How can I not care? I know I’m still scared because of the whole Chan fiasco but can you blame me?” ✮⋆˙
Genre: Angst, Fluff
AU: University!au, Nonidol!au
Pairing: Ex!Chan x Fem!Reader, Brother’s Best Friend!Mingyu x Fem!Reader (Literally Seungcheol’s younger sister)
Warnings: A bit of cursing, a break up over text but that’s about it.
Synopsis: Diving into a long-term relationship is scary for anyone for that matter, except the breakup from yours had left you traumatized because it happened over text. From then on you vowed to never wear your heart on your sleeve ever again, but your brother’s own best friend promised to change your perspective.
Note: My first ever Seventeen fic on this account, so it’s still a work in progress, but it’s definitely something! (Esp since I haven’t written in awhile). It used to be an Enhypen fic originally, but it took a lot of editing and proofreading, along with a lot of changes. Happy reading! Don’t forget to like + reblog! It would mean the world.
Word Count: 7.7k words (I’ve never written so much)
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Your relationship with Chan wasn’t precisely the dreamy or ideal relationship you had hoped for but as someone who had almost no experience, put that and being a people pleaser together, and you have whatever is left of your so-called relationship.
It’s not like Chan was a bad person or anything, the boy was quite the softie, so he’s probably just as overwhelmed as you were when it came to dating.
The latter part of the relationship consisted of you trying to understand him as best as you could, that was until inconsistencies started popping up a lot more.
Chan felt distant, he was more busy, despite the two of you being in the same major. That was the whole basis of your relationship after all. At the beginning of your relationship, it was sweet and full of the first times. Chan used to hold your hand, his other one holding your bag, as you would walk to the diner across campus and stay there for hours just talking about your day.
The soft gazes he’d give you whenever your eyes met, the flowers he’d give you on a random day, and the late-night calls wherein one of you ended up asleep. It was like a broken record that rewind itself during the late hours when you would start to question his love for you.
Those moments seem like old memories to you now as you see another apologetic text from your boyfriend. Another text where he promised to make it up to you and that he’d do better next time, it was starting to become a routine where you got stood up by him.
You wondered what on earth would keep your boyfriend so busy, especially when you both had ended up together because you took the same classes. You weren’t a slacker and always got your work done on time, so things weren’t adding up, especially when you both always tried to help one another.
The week after your midterms, you decided to visit your family and stay at home for a little bit.
Your family lived thirty minutes away from campus and you honestly couldn’t bother to make a drive that long every day, so you opted to stay in the dorms to save time, but on occasion, you would suck it up for a few days whenever your living space felt too tight.
Today was one of those days, but it felt a lot worse than you’d like to admit.
“Hey, I’m gonna go stay at my family’s for the weekend, and on Monday, just try not to make a mess here or anything.” You say to your roommate, Bora, who nods without looking at you.
Your roommate had an annoying habit of not looking at people whenever she was focused on her work, but you grew quite used to it and just shrugged it off after a few months.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I only ever have Chaeyoung or Hyewon over so no mess and no broken belongings. Have fun and say hi to Seungcheol for me if you see him, will you? Drive safe Y/n,” Bora finally turns to you from her bed and you laugh.
Seungcheol was a good brother and had a heart of gold, but you couldn’t handle your friends gushing over him in front of your face, it just felt weird when you grew up right beside him, the image of a younger Cheol picking his nose suddenly registering itself into your brain as you cringed.
You couldn’t care less about who he’d date though, it was none of your business, even as his little sister. As long as he didn’t end up hurt or hurting anyone, your brother was free to be with who he liked.
“Sure, I’ll leave a word when I see him. Tell me if anything comes up, and now I’ll get going! Bye, Bora!” You picked up your backpack and made the short walk to your car, ready to go home and lay on your childhood bed, which was admittedly more comfortable than the one you had in the dorm.
You text Chan about going to your family’s place, and the boy follows up with a thumbs-up emoji and an ‘I love you, stay safe’ text.
Your boyfriend didn’t have much to say anyway, and you were starting to grow bored with the way things were going. He probably felt the same way and you couldn’t blame him when you couldn’t keep your mouth shut either, since you seemed to be the only one exerting effort at this point.
He might even find you annoying now but didn’t have the heart to tell you because he was just that nice.
“Breaking up is honestly super tempting right now and I honestly can’t stand it anymore! It’s driving me mad, Cheol!” You whine as you stop at the intersection that leads into your neighborhood.
You didn’t mean to rub it in or anything, but you did live in a wealthier part of town, which explained the long drive home, and you were so glad to see the familiar area after a stressful trip.
It just so happened that halfway through the drive, your poor brother had to endure fifteen minutes of your rambling like some counselor even though he simply just wanted to check up on you.
“Y/n, just break up with him then, simple. It’s been months since you started telling me about how bad it’s getting, and honestly, I’m horrified to hear about what else is to come once you get here. I love you so much, really I do, but this boy is full of empty promises and lies,” Seungcheol sighs deeply.
The light turns green and you finally drive into your street, completely forgetting you were on the phone.
“Fuck don’t ignore me like that, I know how much you both liked your sweet puppy love phase, but get a grip Y/n. Chan is draining you, and he’s probably just as tired as you are. It’s time to stop hanging onto that year you both had,” You pull into your driveway and click your tongue.
Your brother was right, but it also killed you knowing you’d hate the thought of not having Chan around anymore. It was all easier said than done, especially when you felt incomplete without him.
“I see your ass in the driveway, Mom and Dad went out to get food so you have a fuck ton of explaining to do.” You see Seungcheol in the window and laugh before honking at him, scaring the living daylights out of him in the process.
“I’ll be in, like five. Let me get my bag ok? And tell Kkuma I’m here, I missed her.” You turn the engine off and grab your bag from the back, a wave of comfort and warmth washing over your form as you look at the house.
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“Anyways, I’ve been contemplating on wanting to break up with him because I think he’s tired of me and maybe I did become quite annoying. Unless I’m invalidating my feelings and gaslighting myself into thinking I’m the problem,” You go on.
At this point, it was past dinner time and you and Seungcheol were in your room, dressed for bed and still talking about your problems. Poor Kkuma looked ready to curl up beside you and sleep but was forced to stay awake because of how miserable you were over some boy.
Seungcheol grimaced and set down a makeshift bed for the poor dog to lie on before turning to look at you with a concerned expression. “I think the latter, but you can be the judge of that. Now-” Cheol was cut off by your phone chiming and you turned to look at who on earth was texting you at one in the morning.
Your face turns pale as you look at the screen, and this automatically worries your brother, but his expression immediately hardens as he knows who it could be from.
“It’s from him isn’t it?” You nod slowly, the tears starting to fall from your eyes, dripping down your cheeks and onto the comforter you were on. Every word hit you like a ton of bricks, you felt helpless.
From: Chanie ^^
I think we need to break up. This relationship is holding me back and it’s starting to feel like a chore, I’m sorry I couldn’t do enough for you Y/n. I started to grow bored and you irritated me to no end, I don’t even think we would work even if we tried. This is my last goodbye to you, I’m sorry again that it had to end this way but I’m still young and feel like I’m not ready for something as serious as this.
You showed Seungcheol the message, only then realizing that your number was also blocked, preventing you from saying anything more. You were appalled, to say the least, your mouth hanging wide open as choked sobs started to come out slowly.
A year, a year went to waste with the person you thought would understand you best, the person you thought would hold your heart close to his, only for him to break it. The person who did the most and still managed to disappoint you.
Seungcheol held you close and you cried into his chest, Kkuma was suddenly on the bed licking your face and the world fell still at that exact moment. The moment you vowed to never trust anyone with your heart ever again.
You were a mess the rest of the semester following the text, crying on the couch the entire weekend as Seungcheol tried to console you, along with your oldest brother, but nothing worked.
You did go to class as normal, but you completely shut everyone out and limited socializing to only your family and friends until after finals.
Your break was coming up, and you were honestly relieved, to say the least. Bora was on the other side of the room getting ready to go home to see her family as well, packing up everything on her side in the process, but then you heard her huff as a pillow hit your head, interrupting the silence that was shared.
“What the fuck Kim?” You whined, taking the pillow and hugging it. Bora plants herself on the spot next to you, you look at her with a frown as she laughs.
“I’m gonna miss you roomie, but I’ll visit you often either way since you’re technically my best friend now. Now stop frowning, Chan was an idiot for breaking up with you. How you managed to get through the rest of the semester, I will never know, but you should go put yourself out there again! There’s bound to be another guy ready to treat you better, so stop moping ok? I know it’ll be hard, but I promise it’s not that bad. Have a bit of fun with it,” You pout at Bora’s words.
She was right, but the breakup over a text fiasco left you traumatized. Chan wasn’t the best boyfriend, and you both had your moments, but you weren’t ready to trust someone again just yet.
What if it ends the same way, or even worse? What if you were too boring? Questions swirl through your mind but Bora snaps you out of it.
“Hey, take it easy. Let’s hang out over break, just us girls showing Chan what he’s missing out on! Can you believe he left you? You’re a gem Y/n, a lot more people want you than you think. Now hurry up and pack the rest of your things!” You take in Bora’s words and nod.
It would be hard, but taking baby steps and meeting new people wouldn’t hurt. No rushing into serious connections just yet.
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When you got home that day, you were happy enough to lay on your bed once again, all worries and concerns gone for the next few months. Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door and see Seungcheol walking in. You raise your eyebrow at him and your brother chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I was wondering if maybe we can hang out? Like all of your friends and mine,” Seungcheol looks down and plays with his fingers nervously. You were confused by his proposal but urged him to continue.
“Look, I like Bora and Minghao has this huge crush on Hyewon. Can you at least help us? Please? Look, I’ll take you shopping and even buy you food if I have to,” Your brother sounded like he was pleading almost so you really couldn’t help but feel bad.
“Cheol it’s ok, I’ll take you up on the shopping, now give me a date so I can tell the girls.” You smiled softly. Seungcheol punches the air and you laugh at his antics, you knew Bora also had the biggest crush on him so setting them up would be a breeze. Hyewon was a mystery you had yet to uncover though.
“I barely know your friends though, like I’ve met Jeonghan but who the hell is Minghao and how does he know about Hyewon?” Seungcheol lies down beside you on the bed and opens his phone, showing you a picture of him and three other guys.
Seungcheol then starts pointing out the two new faces to you. The lean and prince-looking one was Minghao and the tall, puppy-looking guy was named Mingyu. You couldn’t help but pay more attention to Mingyu, he was really attractive and you wanted to get to know him.
“Anyways, they’re the two new people in my frat. They’re super cool and like-” “Are you gonna bring Mingyu?” You cut him off mid-sentence, still in awe at Mingyu. Seungcheol’s brows knit and he rolls his eyes at you whilst you stick your tongue out at him.
“What happened to not dating? Come on Y/n, be serious,” You slap your brother’s face jokingly, the male screaming dramatically from beside you.
You didn’t want to get your heart broken again, but putting yourself out there wouldn’t hurt, as long as it didn’t get too serious, you were going to be ok.
“Shut up, it’s not like it’s gonna be a super serious thing just yet. Mingyu looks like a total hottie, I just wanna get to know him, have a little fun and get a bit of attention again,” You were ass at lying, so Seungcheol could only laugh at you.
“I trust you with him, Mingyu’s a very easygoing guy if that’s important to you. He’s also super single because he’s waiting for the right person,” he smirks at you.
Easygoing? And he’s waiting for the right person? On top of all that he’s cute and your brother trusts him with you? It sounded too good to be true.
You were happy for a moment, but doubts started to cloud your judgment once again. He sounded like a good guy, but how long until he turns into Chan and gets bored of you? It was starting to scare you again.
“Cheol, I don’t know-” Your brother gives you a serious look and sits up.
“I hope you understand that he’s not Chan, Y/n. Not all relationships are going to be like your last unless you try to take that leap. I promise you, he’s not a bad guy. Like, if he hurts you, I’ll hurt him because you mean a lot to me” You nod at Seungcheol, finally thinking positively and securely.
Not everyone is going to be like Chan, you knew that, but your memories and feelings for the boy held you back.
“Now, how does nineteenth sound?” Your brother asks you. You text your friends, immediately getting the green light from the three of them, Bora sounding the most excited.
“Perfect, and your girlfriend is just as excited as you are,” Cheol’s face turns a deep red before he runs out of your room in embarrassment, yelling about something along the lines of planning the perfect outfit. You guessed it was probably to impress Bora anyway, so you didn’t question him.
The silence of your room welcomes you once again and you are back into your thoughts. Mingyu sounded like a guy who would take someone seriously, maybe it’s just what you needed because guys your age didn’t have that much to go off of.
He was Seungcheol approved, and you told yourself that a million times, only because he hadn’t approved of anyone else but Mingyu. Chan could get past your parents and oldest brother, but not Cheol, so it was an odd situation to be in.
“I’ll figure it out later, right now, I need to sleep.” You put your phone off to the side and close your eyes.
Hopefully, you’ll be able to figure everything out once the nineteenth rolls around, both Seungcheol and Bora did say similar things, so maybe those two had a point. ‘No wonder they like each other, they’re the same person,’ you thought as the sleep took over.
Two days had passed and the dreaded day had rolled around much quicker than you had anticipated. As you put on light makeup, your friends are in the background screaming at each other throughout the entirety of your Facetime call because you all decided that it was a good idea to get ready together.
“Bora, it’s Seungcheol! He’s like Y/n’s male version so you don’t need to freak out that much! Now Y/n, show us the fit. You’re the only one who didn’t show us yet!” Hyewon whined over the phone.
“I’m wearing a gray long-sleeved, asymmetrical knit top, black skirt, and combat boots. For hair, I’m leaving it down and wavy, I don’t care much,” You say softly.
The girls suddenly burst out laughing as you put on your outfit, they didn’t seem to believe you one bit when you said you didn’t care because they knew you genuinely did care and tried not to.
“Guys come on, Mingyu is approved by my brother! How can I not care? I know I’m still scared because of the whole Chan fiasco but can you blame me?” Your friends hum in agreement until you hear the door behind you open.
“Y/n— Are you calling your friends right now? We’re leaving in a minute because Mingyu’s driving so hurry your ass up will you. Also hi Bora! Hi Hyewon and Chaeyoung,” Seungcheol grins stupidly.
You roll your eyes at your brother for obviously singling Bora out and tell your friends that you are going to see them in a bit.
“Bye, Y/n! Have fun looking at your new boy toy driving, already a huge upgrade from Chan!” Wonyoung laughs.
You end the Facetime call with a roll of your eyes before turning to look at Seungcheol with an eyebrow raised. Seungcheol puts his hands up defensively before you both hear a car honking outside.
“Mingyu’s here, grab your bag, and let’s go!” You huff as your brother rushes you, he was practically itching to see his crush, and embarrassingly enough, you too were excited to meet Mingyu and Minghao.
With your bag in hand, along with your phone, you finally follow Cheol outside and see a Range Rover of the latest model in black. Damn, Mingyu was in a different league that was for sure.
Seungcheol opens the door for you as you head in. You see Jeonghan riding shotgun and Wonwoo in the back smiling at you. “Y/n! So happy to see you again, I think this is your first time meeting Mingyu and Minghao,” Jeonghan says from the front.
You squeeze in the center comfortably and nod. Wonwoo was cute, he greeted you politely and was very friendly, but when your eyes met Mingyu’s, you suddenly became quite flustered. He held a sharp gaze, the watch on his wrist not helping you in the slightest.
“The shopping center downtown right?” Seungcheol nods at Mingyu’s words, his deep voice causing you to flush. You prayed to whoever was up there that you would at least survive the day because the tension in the car with him was enough to drive you nuts.
“So Y/n, how’s that thing with Chan?” You freeze up when Jeonghan suddenly brings up your ex, but you forget not everyone knew about the devastating breakup over text.
“We broke up over text...” You reply awkwardly. Jeonghan gasps as your brother runs his palm down his face, he knew better than anyone not to bring up Chan during the time you were still trying to move on.
“Hyung, give her a break. Sounds like it must’ve been rough, I’m sorry about that. He seems like a shitty guy, breaking up with you over text? Are you sure this isn’t a sitcom Y/n?” Mingyu speaks up as he looks at you from the rearview mirror. You feel your cheeks heat up slightly, nodding in embarrassment, but for some reason, you were shocked upon hearing Mingyu’s words.
Wow, he really picked Chan apart in a way you wouldn’t ever dare to. His bluntness snapped you right back to reality and you could hear Minghao chuckle from beside you. “What’s so funny?” You raise a brow at the boy.
“Mingyu hasn’t been this disheartened over anything in a while, it’s crazy that he’s already scrutinizing your ex based on how you broke up,” Minghao explains. Mingyu glares at him and huffs, looking so done and just ready to explain himself.
“Listen, in my personal opinion, I think breaking up with a long-term partner over text is stupid and a cowardly move. There were so many other ways he could have gone about it but over text? At least call or something instead, it’s super disrespectful towards your partner to leave them hanging without proper closure.” Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets upon hearing the reason behind his agitation.
So far, Mingyu was seriously proving you wrong the more he opened his mouth to say something, but you still weren’t ready because what if he’s even worse? The feeling still lingers and it’s almost like the ghost of your ex is not letting you go just yet.
“Mingyu’s right, I thought you both had something to be fair. Seeing how puppy love was just a phase makes me think I was quite wrong, you deserve better. Like Mingyu here for example! He’s very single and is looking for the right person, which could be you.” Jeonghan jokingly says.
You notice Mingyu’s ears turn red as he pulls into the shopping center. The car was suddenly filled with an awkward silence, everyone stunned at the oldest’s proposition. You and Mingyu had just met, what was he on about with you being his possible partner? It was crazy.
After Mingyu had parked his car, you all made your way toward your designated meeting spot. You could see Cheol and Minghao freeze up upon seeing Bora and Hyewon, causing a laugh to make its way out of your throat.
“Y/n! Over here!” The girls beckoned you over as you purposely ran in their direction to tease the guys.
It was a day to bring them together was it not? Yet you still took the opportunity to tease the boys as you wished. It was pretty funny to look at their reactions knowing they liked your friends.
“Hi guys, I brought Cheol and Jeonghan. The newbies are Minghao and, Mingyu” You say with a pause. Your friends squeal wildly at the mention of Mingyu’s name, shoving you with their elbows as you all laugh.
“Minghao is so cute actually, is he single by any chance?” Hyewon smirks, eyeing the male up and down.
You giggle and nod, your friend had no idea that the said boy was here for her, which made your job of setting them up much easier. Your work was basically cut out for you the moment they laid their eyes on each other.
“Oh don’t worry, you’ll know in a bit. For now, let’s all focus on having fun today shall we?” You sling your hand over Bora’s shoulder, not noticing Mingyu’s intense stare at your form. Seungcheol and Jeonghan notice the action, causing the two of them to nudge the boy playfully.
“Bro, go shoot your shot. There’s so much tension between the two of you, I hope you know that” Cheol laughs.
Mingyu shakes his head at his words profusely, there was no way he was going to overstep a boundary, even if it was Seungcheol himself encouraging it.
You notice the boys talking amongst themselves but decide to shrug it off, they were probably planning their moves on your friends, but how do you tell them that they didn’t even need to try that much? They all seemed to like each other after all.
Between Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s continuous pestering, Mingyu had felt your gaze on them, causing his cheeks to grow hot. You were really pretty, and that goes without saying, but you had just gotten out of something long-term.
The time needed to heal you first, or at least that’s what he thought, since his mom had always taught him to be patient with the ones he loved or cared about.
“Give her time guys, I don’t think I can just rush in like that. Y/n came out of a slightly traumatizing event, so if you jump right in, it will only push the person away further. I should be friends with her at most while we’re still getting to know each other,” Mingyu makes eye contact with you and notices how you quickly avoid his eyes.
The day had gone by quite smoothly since then, each of you dispersing into little pairs after a while because your friends couldn’t seem to help themselves, which is what led you to where you were now. In a store, with Mingyu, picking out clothes for him to try on.
You had nothing better to do anyway, so why not style your brother’s hot friend, even though Mingyu himself already had impeccable fashion taste?
You bite your lip as you focus on the outfit, visualizing what it would look like on Mingyu, and how you could coordinate everything.
Mingyu thought it was adorable with how much thought and focus you had decided to put in when you were only doing this for fun, he ultimately decided to buy the outfit once he was done trying it on.
“Here, sorry I took so long. I haven’t styled anyone since my ex and my older brother, so this is the best you’re gonna get for now,” You handed him the items in your arms and pushed him toward the fitting rooms, eager to see how well you did.
“It’s no problem because you did put the time and effort into styling me, I might go ahead and buy it if it does end up being my style,” Mingyu smiles at you softly.
He was sweet, you had to admit. It wasn’t like Chan had noticed you putting effort into styling him so a little affirmation made your heart swell.
“You don’t have to, I kind of play around with it. I bet you will look good since you seem like you’d look good in anything” You admit shyly.
Mingyu was fun to be around, even if it was your first time meeting, you already felt as if you had known the man for a while. All around Mingyu was just considerate and one of the best people you could’ve ever met.
“Yeah, sure you do, I know you put a lot more effort either way. Let me try this on now, otherwise, I’d be too distracted looking into your eyes. Give me a minute and I’ll show you how it looks,” You nod as Mingyu closes the curtain, only then taking in what he had said to you. He was not being serious but was so smooth with how he flirted with you just now.
A minute had gone by and you heard Mingyu call your name, so you made your way over, only to find your heart nearly falling out of your ass the moment you saw him. He looked so good, great even, and you couldn’t help but stare.
Mingyu adorned a white shirt underneath a black zip-up jacket, adding detail by zipping up the bottom of it, and light-wash jeans. It was a really simple outfit, but you had to admit, he did tie the whole look together.
“How does it look? I think you did well honestly, I’ll buy the entire outfit right now. Let me go change so we can go meet up with the others,” Mingyu smiles.
You were amazing at what you did, it impressed him how you were able to pull such an outfit together in just a few minutes.
“I think it looks great, I’m flattered you like it so much that you’d buy it right now. Maybe I can style you again if there is a next time?” You reply shyly. You couldn’t meet Mingyu’s eyes because he looked so good.
From that moment on, Mingyu made it his mission to heal your heart and prove to you that you deserved a second chance at being treated better.
He had come to your house quite often and taken you out a few times, so much to the point that everyone around you started noticing that you were almost always with each other.
“You know what, this is the happiest I’ve seen you. Your relationship with Chan started to strain and you had become more dull and miserable, but being around Mingyu gave you a new kind of glow for some reason,” Chaeyoung quips.
You tilt your head in confusion, you liked his company but you hadn’t noticed any other changes.
“He’s great, but I’m still hesitant. You know how I am, as I get he’s not Chan, but who knows how everything would play out in the long run?” You say sadly.
Mingyu was more than amazing, he respected your wishes not to have a relationship, but still treated you in ways people could only dream of, but in his words, he was ‘courting’ you, something people don’t do much these days.
He was attentive, took care of you well, and would always be there for you no matter what. He truly was the real definition of being ‘one call away’. This was all so new to you, even being courted was something totally out of the ordinary.
“Y/n, he’s courting you. Not enough people willingly do that these days, so you have the guy wrapped around your finger. He’s patiently waiting for an answer from you, like do you remember everything you’ve told us?” Hyewon huffs out from above you as she is doing your hair.
It was girl’s night and you had decided to bring up your worries and updates to your friends, but you had forgotten the fact that you had also told them the details about your escapades with Mingyu.
From where you would go to what you did, down to the time he took you home, and if Seungcheol truly did approve of him.
“Did Chan ever actually think about how you felt in a certain situation? You know besides you telling him it’s ok and all? Usually being together with someone for over a year would allow you to read them better, but Chan barely knew your little habits. Bora took them in after a month of knowing you, which is concerning. Now on to Mingyu, what did he say that one time?” Chaeyoung snaps her fingers and you instantly know what she is talking about.
You came home one day and had gone the whole day without eating. You were out with your parents and they hadn’t considered if you were hungry or not since they were busy and had already eaten, so when you got home, you quietly slipped next to Mingyu in the living room after seeing the guys watching a movie.
“Hey, you’re home. How was spending the day with your parents?” Mingyu whispers from beside you. You shrug and he gives you a look that encourages you to tell him more.
“I hadn’t eaten anything, but honestly it’s ok now since I’m not hungry at all…” You trail off.
Mingyu shakes his head and takes his phone out, but you go over to stop him. He shouldn’t spend anything on you, and you already told him you weren't hungry so you felt as if you were only bothering him.
“Are you sure you’re not hungry?” You see your favorite restaurant on the delivery app on his phone and blush. Did he remember your favorite restaurant and order? That was sweet of him.
“No it’s ok I can manage,” You pretended not to see him already inputting the order and paying for it, but you still couldn’t help it when your stomach growled loudly. Mingyu raises a brow at you as you chuckle awkwardly.
“I’m getting you food, I know you’re hungry” Mingyu laughs. You hit his shoulder but thanked him gratefully for even thinking of you, it was a small gesture but it still meant a lot.
“How about that time he got you flowers for no reason?” Bora says while laughing.
You roll your eyes, she was the first person you had freaked out to over the phone because Mingyu had gotten you a bouquet of roses on a random Thursday with Seungcheol.
“What’s this?” You ask as Mingyu sets down a bunch of fresh roses wrapped in brown paper on the counter in front of you. Cheol and Mingyu had just gotten back from grocery shopping for your mom and then Mingyu came back with flowers, of course, you would be confused.
“I got you flowers because we saw them on the way out, and I thought you'd like them” Mingyu started taking out the groceries from the bags as your brother walked in with the last batch from the car. You flick Cheol’s forehead, but the older male can only smirk and laugh at you.
“Why? There’s no occasion,” You try to excuse, but you couldn’t hide how flustered you were.
Mingyu had thought of you while they were out? He did mean it when he said he wanted to treat you better.
“Can I not get you flowers even if there’s no occasion? Y/n, you don’t need to ask or have a reason to receive flowers, I hope you know that. I’m surprised this hadn’t been done for you more often than not” Mingyu’s back was still turned toward you, which you were thankful for because you probably looked like a tomato at that moment.
That night poor Bora had to endure an earful from you, just because Mingyu was a great guy who treated you the way you deserved.
Thinking back at those moments, you could only see the good in Mingyu, so you wanted your friends’ approval. He was already brother and parent-approved so that only left your best friends.
“Well, do you guys think I should finally give him an answer? It’s been a few months, and even if I am scared, I can’t let this chance go.” Hyewon finishes up your hair and pats your head, signaling her answer. You look at the others, who only grin back at you and you laugh.
“Y/n, he’s been a green flag since the beginning. It’s a good opportunity knowing he’s the type that’s ready to settle down,” Bora also brings up.
Seungcheol had always emphasized that Mingyu was a date-to-marry and long-term relationship kind of guy, which makes sense as to why you were one of the first people he had ever been super serious with when it came to dating.
“You guys are always the best, I’m glad everyone around me approves. I mean, I won’t know until I try right?” Chaeyoung hugs you and you sigh in content.
You were finally moving on, you were finally healing. It felt fulfilling in a sense, and knowing you were finally starting a new chapter with a great person, you felt as though your life was finally turning out for the better.
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After a chaotic girls’ night, you had called up Mingyu to meet you at your favorite cafe that the two of you frequented. You were quite nervous, to say the least, but you were ready to take this huge step of moving on with the person who treated you right.
You hear the bell of the cafe chime, and you finally see the person you were expecting. Mingyu walked in, his hair down in its usual state, and in a casual but comfortable outfit.
He looked like he had just come from the gym. Your heart raced at how good he looked, he always did look his best whenever he came to see you, and you always appreciated the effort.
Mingyu spots you and walks over with a wide smile. He was always so damn charming, you couldn’t believe he was all yours. He pulls out the seat in front of you and plops on it, his attention fully on you. ‘Attentive as always, I don’t deserve you,’ you thought.
“You wanted to talk?” Mingyu finally breathes out upon seeing you. You nod and take his hands in yours, you were going to tell him how you finally felt because he deserved an answer. He had already done so much for you, the least you could do was show him that all his efforts were finally paying off.
“I think I’m ready to give you my answer. The past few months you had decided to court me and I’m thankful you were patient enough to wait for my answer. You’ve proved to me that relationships aren’t limited to how I and my ex went about ours and that if a guy wanted to do something, he would. So my answer is already set, I’ll be your girlfriend, Gyu.” You look up at him, only to see Mingyu grinning like an idiot.
He was elated, he finally got the answer he was waiting for and you saying yes only made it a hundred times better. Mingyu fully understood how much your last relationship had affected you, so he only made it a point to court you, knowing you weren’t ready for a commitment just yet.
He wanted you to be ready for him to love you and treat you the way you deserved, so he didn’t push it and waited for you to come around on your own, which you did.
“You have no idea how happy and relieved I am to hear you say that. Y/n, I’m so glad you gave me the chance to love you and care for you. I’m glad you gave me the chance to prove myself to you. I promise I will not hurt you in any way at all, and I promise to be as communicative as possible with my feelings so that you don’t end up in the dark. I want you to know everything because you deserve it,” Mingyu admits, not breaking his gaze on you.
“Mingyu, you’re everything I could’ve ever asked for. I don’t know what else to say. The past few months I’d been so scared to love again, to give a relationship another chance, but you’ve proved me wrong and even waited for me to be ready. You don’t understand how much that means to me,” You continue to fidget with his hands, but then he suddenly takes yours and places a kiss on your knuckle.
You blush at the action, you weren’t used to feeling or receiving this kind of affection since it had been quite some time, but with Mingyu, you weren’t afraid of anything, because you trusted him as much as he trusted you.
Needless to say, even months after you had given Mingyu an answer, he remained the same and still acted like he was courting you.
The only difference? He was finally your boyfriend and you were finally his girlfriend. You felt how serious he was about you when he had even introduced you to his parents, and they were just as lovely as their son was.
“Mom wants to go shopping with us on her birthday this weekend, I told her I would take her on a birthday date but she insisted you come along. She loves you that much already,” Mingyu chuckles as he walks into your room, fresh out of the shower. You laugh, his mom was the sweetest person, and you finally understand where your boyfriend gets it from.
“I’m down if she’d like, but you’re not getting me anything ok? You already spoil me enough and I don’t want you to spend too much–” You squeal as you feel Mingyu’s arms around you, the two of you falling flat on the bed.
Before you two could move from your position, you heard a knock at your door. It was Seungcheol, and you immediately pulled away from Mingyu once you saw him, still flustered and embarrassed from the previous action.
“Hey, if you two are going to be in the house, at least have some decency while I’m here!” Your brother whines.
You laugh and see him let Kkuma in the room. She had been with Cheol the whole day, so you and your siblings usually took turns spending time with the dog. You were the sibling in Kkuma’s night shift, meaning you had to take the dog in for the night since she liked sleeping in your room.
You thank Cheol for letting Kkuma in and bid your brother goodnight. Once the door closed, you looked over to see your boyfriend on the floor with Kkuma laying on her back.
“Hey, that’s my dog! Kkuma, you can’t just steal my boyfriend like that, and Gyu you can’t just do that to my child!” You joke. They looked perfect, and suddenly you start to imagine what your little family with Mingyu would look like.
Mingyu was the perfect partner to settle with, after all, he was caring and dependable, but also super honest and was not afraid to show or express how he felt. He just knew whenever you weren’t up to do something, or if something was bothering you.
“Is something wrong?” Mingyu noticed that you were more quiet than usual today because you almost always told him about your day. He noticed how your smile hadn’t reached your eyes and how you were fidgeting with your fingers more.
“It’s nothing” You tried to brush it off, but truthfully, you weren’t doing well. You just didn’t have the strength to let him know or the strength to explain how you felt, all you wanted to do was rest and go to sleep.
“Y/n, you can tell me anything ok? Be as open as you want to be, I’m always here for you and will not judge you no matter what. If you don’t have the energy to tell me, it’s ok. Just rest here” You feel his arms being wrapped around you as he strokes your hair. The action was small but it helped you ease up a lot.
“It’s hard Gyu, I don’t know how to deal with everything. I don’t have the energy to stress over anything right now,” You whisper. Mingyu rocks you back and forth, still playing with your hair as he places kisses on your forehead.
“Whatever it is you’re going through, I hope you know that I’m proud enough that you decide to wake up every day and do everything with a smile, even if the world has wronged you. you’re so brave and amazing Y/n, please do not ever doubt yourself” Mingyu replies softly.
“Gyu, you don’t understand how much your words have helped me” You kiss him softly. You felt so lucky to have him, he was beyond the best partner you had ever been blessed with.
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“Mingyu, could I ask you something?” You say suddenly. The two of you were at his parent’s place since Mingyu had decided to take you to his childhood home in Anyang as a gift for your four-month anniversary.
“Mhm?” He hummed, putting down a plate of food on the coffee table in the living room, and sitting next to you on the couch.
“Why haven’t we said I love you to each other at any point in our relationship just yet? The others have asked me about it, but I just can’t come up with an answer to get them to leave me alone,” you whine. Mingyu laughs and kisses your cheek gently.
“Tell them that saying I love you isn’t easy when it comes to us, you haven’t said it either so we’re simply making sure that I can say it when the time is right. It’s not that I don’t or anything, but those words aren’t exactly an easy thing to just pop out there. The time will come when we can both say it meaningfully. Right now, we are still early into our relationship and have a lot to learn. I hope you understand where I’m coming from” he tells you.
It wasn’t that hard to understand what he meant. Mingyu had always been more careful, even if he didn’t say I love you, he still affirmed you and expressed his love for you in his actions.
Loving someone still comes in many forms, so the words I love you could wait because they should come from a place where you both fully understand and can comprehend how meaningful the three words are.
“I honestly think the same way, in a sense, I’m glad you’re honest about how you feel because I’ve been in a place wherein I was pressured into doing the action just because it was normal for everyone else, but not all of us are the same. Thank you, Gyu, you’re always the best with words.” Mingyu holds you close and you both sigh in content.
He wanted to treat you better, and he did. He wanted to show you better, and he expressed it in the best way possible.
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© rubyuji 2024’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.
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Text
Lunch Break - Hangman
Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: Suggestive Content and Dialogue, Blue Balls; Third Person POV, No Y/N, No Physical Description of Reader
If you're a MINOR, please do me a favor and read SOMETHING ELSE.
This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.
Summary: Jake and his wife are going through a dry spell. Luckily, his secretary Linda is the best wingwoman in all of Miramar.
Master List
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It wasn’t odd for Jake’s wife and the secretary in his office to communicate. But every time that Linda’s, Jake’s secretary, contact popped up, Jake’s wife always felt her heart drop into her stomach. Her mind always just went to the worst-case scenario, considering Jake's line of work. So, when she saw Linda’s name pop up, she quickly answered the phone call.
“Hi, Linda. What’s going on?” she asked worriedly, failing to hide her concern from her tone.
“Hi, sweetheart. Everything’s fine,” Linda, Jake’s secretary, immediately assured her.
“He’s in one piece?”
“Yes, he’s in one piece. He’s doing just fine.”
“But?” Jake’s wife pressed knowingly.
“But he’s in a little bit of a mood today to be quite honest with you,” Linda explained quietly, using a voice that she reserved for personal conversations.
“He’s annoyed with everyone?”
“Well, he just seems a bit cranky and snappish. I was just wondering if it was a slipping him a third coffee because he didn’t get enough sleep kind of day.”
“No, I don’t think that it,” Jake’s wife replied honestly, resting her head on her hand.
Jake’s wife had a pretty good guess about what was wrong with Jake but she didn’t know how to articulate it properly to Linda. It wasn’t exactly a secret between her and Jake that they were going through a dry spell. He was working. She was working. He was trying to get a promotion. They just moved into a new house and so when she wasn’t working, she was stressing about that.
So, yeah, they were going through a dry spell.
It happened. They went months on end without something as simple as eye contact when Jake was deployed. So, in a way, they were used to it. But, in some other ways, it was worse. They slept right beside each other every night. But they went to bed at different times and one of them was always tired or needed up get up at the ass crack of dawn the next morning and it just fizzled.
They still cuddled and talked and participated in other non-sexual forms of intimacy. But they really needed some physical intimacy in their relationship. And they needed it about three weeks ago.
“I think I know what’s wrong,” Jake’s wife informed Linda. “And don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll be stopping by for lunch, if you can pencil me in.”
“Sure thing. I’ll get you two as much time as I can.”
“Thanks, Linda.”
Jake’s wife hung up the phone and headed up to their shared bedroom. As she worked remotely, she had the flexibility to take an extended lunch break. She changed into Jake’s favorite set and the sundress that he bought her when they temporarily lived in Italy. He nearly ripped it off of her the first time that she wore it and that was the exact effect she was going for.
Shoving some supplies into her purse, Jake’s wife headed out of the house to pick up lunch for the both of them. When she arrived on base, Jake was still in a debriefing, so Jake’s wife went to simply hang out with Linda until he finished up.
Linda had a good relationship with both Seresins. She had been the secretary for the flight instructors on base since forever. And Linda basically adopted Jake since they were both originally from Texas. Linda was like a second mom to them and was at their wedding. So, if Linda told her that he was in a bad, snappy mood, Jake’s wife believed her. And she took the warning seriously.
“Oh, that’s a lovely sundress, dear,” Linda complimented her as Jake’s wife sat down in one of the visitor’s chairs. “You look beautiful in it.”
“Thanks, Linda. Jake bought it for me back in Italy.”
“Ah,” Linda realized, nodding along with a knowing smile. “That explains a lot, actually.”
“Yeah,” Jake’s wife sighed, smoothing out the fabric.
“Oh, it happens to all of us, dear.”
“I know. It’s just that between work and the new house and everything, we haven’t got a lot of alone time,” Jake’s wife explained quietly, shifting in her seat. “But thank you for calling me. I just don’t want him to put his foot in his mouth because we can’t communicate in our own home.”
“Of course, honey. Any time.”
Jake’s wife and Linda chatted for a bit longer until Jake arrived. He carried a large stack of files with him and Jake’s wife could tell by the way that he walked that he was annoyed. But when he spotted his wife sitting there, a new wave of energy and life seemed to wash over him in an instant.
“Baby? What are you doing here?” he called, walking over to her.
“I just thought that I would visit you and bring you some lunch,” his wife replied with a bright smile. Jake leaned down and pressed a peck to her lips before straightening up. “And I checked with Linda and she said that your meeting got pushed back.”
“It did?” Jake asked curiously, turning to Linda.
“Forty-five minutes,” Linda informed him with an encouraging smile.
“Ah,” Jake realized, nodding slowly. He turned to his wife with that particular brand of lovesickness that still made her heart flutter just like it did when they first met. “Well, then I can’t find any reason at all to not invite you back.”
Jake offered his wife a hand and they walked back into his office, shutting the door behind them. Linda chuckled to herself when the lock on the door audibly clicked.
Jake’s wife went to set the takeout bag on the desk, but Jake quickly grabbed it from her hand and set it aside. She giggled as Jake quickly set her up on his desk and stood in between her legs. He gently cupped her cheeks and tilted her head up, rubbing his thumbs along her cheekbones.
“Hey,” she breathed out, smiling softly at him.
“Linda told you about the meeting?” Jake asked, putting two and two together.
“She thought that you were being a little snappy. And well,” Jake’s wife trailed off, tugging at his belt, “I had a pretty good inkling as to why you were like that.”
“I don’t even want to know how long it’s been,” Jake muttered, pulling her lips up.
Their lips met in a desperate embrace as the acknowledgement of their dry spell took hold of them. Touches grew more needy, the kisses got sloppier, and it didn’t escape either of their minds that they were in Jake’s office. Sure, Linda would guard the door, but they were still in the offices. As if Jake needed any more motivation to reacquaint himself with his wife.
“Too fucking long,” Jake growled, grinding against her.
They were on a time crunch, so Jake couldn’t take his time, but he was going to rectify that problem when he got home that night. Jake’s wife’s grip on him tightened when he rolled his hips just right and let out a whine that had Jake grinning in an instant. Pulling away from the kiss, Jake’s wife leaned up and brushed her lips against his ear.
“Then fix that, Commander,” she whispered sultrily.
And well, Jake was never one to disappoint his wife.
Ten minutes before his next meeting, Jake and his wife emerged from his office. Linda respectfully averted her eyes. But it didn’t take an extra-long stare to notice the wrinkles in Jake’s shirt or the fact that Jake’s wife’s dress was twisted on her body and far more rumpled than before.
“I’m just going to walk her back to her car and then I’ll head to the next meeting,” Jake informed Linda quietly as he held his wife’s hand.
“I’ll let him know that you’re meeting him there,” Linda assured Jake. Turning to Jake’s wife, Linda waved kindly. “Bye, dear.”
“Bye, Linda. Thanks for the call,” Jake’s wife replied, looking quite giddy and just a bit stumbly.
“Anytime. Have a good day.”
Jake and his wife walked out to the visitor parking lot. When they reached her car, Jake gently pressed her up against it and stole another heated kiss from her. Jake snuck a squeeze up her dress, earning a playful smack to the chest in return.
“When do you get off of work?” Jake’s wife asked him, smoothing out the wrinkles on his shirt.
“I’ll be home by six,” Jake promised, stealing another kiss from her. “You have a lot of work tonight?”
“I’ll make time,” she returned, unable to help her smile. “Just don’t be late.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Jake pulled his wife in for one last kiss that got just a little friskier than it should have in a base parking lot, but neither of them cared. And with one last playful smack to her ass, Jake sent his wife home and then turned to sprint at break-neck speed to his next meeting.
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in1-nutshell · 7 months
Note
Hello! I hope you’re doing well! So, in G1, there is an episode where four Autobots ended up briefly turning into humans, called Only Humans. That episode was fun, but sadly, there were too much actions and not enough bots experiencing common phenomenons of a human body, which would have been SO fun! So may I request a similar scenario with TFP Ratchet, Optimus Prime, Arcee, Bee, and Bulkhead? But this time the times where they stayed humans were longer than that G1 episode, and during the time these guys got to experience all kinds of human body experiences like hiccups, goosebumps, throwing up, falling inside of their sleep, strung by mosquitoes, and maybe even a cold, so on and so on. And tbh I just want to know who do you think would be the ones to freak out ant goosebumps (think that bugs are crawling under them) and who would be the one to think that a 39 Celsius fever + a nasty throw up is probably normal for human body and no cause for concern? And to make this funnier I ask for a random unlucky Autobot to actually got to suffer from motion sickness (ironic, since they used to be cars themselves, and now they can’t even ride anymore without feeling like dying), and another to be truck by a tough cold/flu and had to suffer through unfamiliar symptoms like coughing, sneezing, chills, and stomach aches, and another to find out they have nasty allergies of a random kind and effect (these can all be more than one if you are feeling evil)
but of course the three kids are there to help them through this tough time— not without occasionally making fun of them a bit tho.
you can do this either in a story telling form, where you write out a whole entire story chapter, or the bullet point list regarding how different the reactions of everyone would be.
YEEEE! This request was fun to do! The bots are going to get the 'whole' human experience.
Hope you enjoy!
Human Buddy and the Kids helping turned humans Ratchet, Optimus Prime, Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead
SFW, Platonic, mentions of puke, Human reader
TFP
Relic accident. Enough said.
The relic, as it turned out, had the capability to turn anything of Cybertronain origin into the organic version of it depending on the planet it was on.
That was how the charges found their guardians on the floor looking dazed and confused.
Thank goodness they had clothes on.
After further inspection from Wheeljack, they all got the news.
The good news this was all temporary, they would turn back when the effects wore off.
The bad news was that this was going to last for entire week.
Which shouldn’t have been a problem… if some of them didn’t get sick.
Oh joy…
Ratchet
The Cold.
Ratchet was fine for the first day, though he was constantly complaining about the work that still needed to be done.
It was the next day that the symptoms came up.
Buddy and Raf are the only ones who manage to convince him to lay down and rest.
“Please Ratchet, your sick and need rest.”--Buddy
Ratchet trying to pass Buddy but Raf steps in front of him.
“Do it Raf!”--Buddy
“Do—cough—what?”--Ratchet
Puppy Dog Eyes activated.
“Please?”--Raf
“… fine.”--Ratchet
Buddy high-hives Raf before helping him back to his bed.
His immune system was new to its surroundings, easier for illness to sit in.
Worse that he was older than the other as well.
He was much more vulnerable to catch simple things.
Most of the bots and recently turned humans are worried about Ratchet’s health when he started sleeping more. But June and the others reassure them that Ratchet’s going to be fine.
Ratchet wants to work, but the kids and Buddy don’t let him.
Jack and Buddy oversee Ratchet’s temperature and basic medical supplies.
Buddy does their best to explain to him what is happening to his body, for reassurance.
Miko plays him classical music for once.
Blame it on the pitiful sick look on his face.
He expected some loud rock music but found it surprising when Miko began playing the keyboard softly.
Its an almost foolproof way to get him to sleep fast.
Raf sat by him telling him stories and helping him eat his food.
This wasn’t his best experience, but he certainly has much more respect on human biology and for the kids now.
Ratchet now has a mini human well-care kit in his habsuite.
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Optimus Prime
The Hiccups.
Optimus was just trying some of the different waters the kids had been recommending.
“And what is this one?”--Optimus
Optimus already starting to drink.
“Sparkling water.”--Buddy
Optimus stops and looks at the water horrified.
“Why are you looking at it—OH! Wait Optimus its not ‘sparkling’s’ water is a type of water with minerals!”--Buddy
Optimus puts the water down but swallows the water in his mouth.
“Human’s drink minerals? As in the deposits?”--Optimus
“… I’m not explaining this one. Raf! Your turn!”--Buddy
Then they heard the sound.
Optimus was surprised to hear it.
Then he made it again.
He looks a bit disturbed.
He wasn’t voluntarily making the noise it was just coming out of him just like that.
Jack and Miko try to explain what hiccups are.
He gets a bit more disturbed yet intrigued.
This wouldn’t be so bad… if that noise would stop trying to interrupt him from talking and making his chest go bump!
Raf suggests ways to get rid of them.
They all go through the list until they reach the last one.
Scaring him.
They knew it was going to be a tough one, Prime wasn’t scared easily.
But Buddy had an idea.
A very dumb idea.
Optimus was talking to Jack when he noticed Buddy leaning on the railing.
He was a bit on edge seeing them so casual near the ledge.
They sat on top of it.
Then began tittering backwards until half of their body went to the other side.
Optimus is running to Buddy’s side trying to stop them from falling backwards.
Buddy just hung from their ankles looking up at him with a smug smile.
No more hiccups.
Problem solved.
He does try and scold Buddy for the recklessness… but he is also glad the hiccups are gone.
When Optimus turns back to normal, he insists to Agent Fowler to have better rails in the base.
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Arcee
The Mosquito bites.
Oh, Jack had warned her about these little guys.
And now she knew why the kids were complaining about.
She wanted to eradicate every single one.
Arcee trying to squash some of the mosquitos with her hands.
“Why!”-Arcee
SMACK!
“Won’t!”--Arcee
SMACK!
“These!”--Arcee
SMACK!
“Things!”--Arcee
SMACK!
“Die!”--Arcee
SMACK!
SMACK!
Buddy and Jack already dosed with repellent.
“Felt that.”--Buddy
“Yep.”--Jack
The two humans fist bump while watching Arcee fail to smack another mosquito.
With some heavy rain, some had managed to get into the base. There weren’t many, maybe four, but they were enough to leave Arcee’s arms and legs littered with little bites.
The kids did get bitten too, but not as much as she did.
Arcee did try to use the repellent, it didn’t do anything for her.
Buddy and Miko help put anti itching cream on her, but she wants to scratch them all so bad.
When she thought they weren’t looking she would begin to scratch furiously.
Arcee didn’t know that her skin would show that she had scratched. She freaked out a bit when she scratched a bit too hard on one and it started bleeding.
Raf and Jack clean and disinfect the scratch which welcomes her to the pain of antibacterial spray.
She swears that it was the most painful thing she had to endure yet.
Raf decided to decorate the little scratches with band aids so she would scratch them.
When Arcee turns back to her normal self, she is relieved.
She has much more respect for the things humans have to do daily.
Will never tell Jack to suck it up when he has a mosquito bite again.
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Bumblebee
The Motion sickness.
Oh, the Irony.
Bumblebee was a fast muscle car before!
He shouldn’t get sick when going over 15 miles per hour!
Now he was getting queasy in riding with Smokescreen and Buddy.
He feels awful.
Sweaty
Clammy hands
And something feels like something is trying to crawl out of his throat.
Bumblebee looking a bit pale as Smokescreen makes another sharp turn.
Buddy looks at Bee.
“Hey Smokes, you mind rolling the windows down a bit?”--Buddy
“Why?”--Smokescreen
Bumblebee groaning.
“Unless you want to see what the inside of a humans stomach holds, I suggest you open up the windows.”--Buddy
Windows immediately roll down.
Bee sighs with a bit of relief as the wind rolls past his face calming his stomach.
At first the two thought it was Smokescreen crazy driving that was making him sick.
But that wasn’t the case.
Buddy Bee and Raf were inside Ultra Magnus and he got queasy there too.
Magnus was one of the safest and slowest drivers on the team.
It was just him.
Bumblebee refused to leave the base after they came back.
He’d rather hang out with the kids on the couch and play games with them than go outside in another vehicle.
When Bumblebee returns to normal, he is so thankful the queasiness didn’t follow him.
He is now much more attentive to the kids when he is driving now.
His subspaces now have barf bags, just in case.
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Bulkhead
Throwing Up.
All Bulkhead wanted to do was have the full human experience with Miko.
He went with her to a monster truck rally that Buddy had managed to get tickets to.
“Wow! I can’t believe you got us ticket to the rally!”--Miko
“Me neither!”--Bulkhead
“No problem, guys, just enjoy yourselves.”
“I mean I tried booking these babies in advance, but everything was booked or too expensive. How did you get the tickets?”--Miko
Buddy simply starts drinking their soda.
“Buddy?”--Bulkhead
“What you don’t know, don’t hurt.”--Buddy
“What?”--Bulkhead
“What?”--Buddy
The trio bought all sorts of junk food and sodas.
He found himself enjoying the time at the rally.
Everything was good.
Until he got back to base.
He suddenly became pale and sweaty.
The next thing Bulkhead knew, he was staring at a trash can with a bunch of mushy stuff with Buddy and Miko on either side of him.
Buddy had some of the mushy stuff on their arms, while Miko was rubbing his back gently.
The mushy stuff did stink a lot.
He felt something come out of his mouth and spew it into the bin, once again getting it on Buddy’s arms.
Bulkhead tried to apologize but it was hard to catch his breath.
Turns out a whole lot of junk food and soda was not good for you after all.
No matter how good it tasted before.
He doesn’t want to touch food while he is like this.
The kids try introducing him to lighter foods so he can at least eat something while his stomach recovers.
He likes the different kinds of broth they bring in.
When Bulkhead returns to normal, he asks Miko to stash barf bags in his interior.
He wants to have them just in case the kids need them.
Has so much more respect for them.
Will slap someone in the head if they mention to the kids to get it over with while their stomach is not feeling good.
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vorfreudevortex · 2 months
Text
a portrait of us - eight
a nanami x reader smau
masterlist
warnings: angst lol, slow burn, swearing, a little ooc, a typo or two
notes: ngl i am starting to hate this story but it's okay!! also I'm drunk but I'm posting this anyways idc. also - written portion - 1.3k words (?!!). i'm finding it impossible to not write long ass parts. also pls feel free to request or ask me anything bc i don't like this smau and need something to distract me in between writing it <3 love u bye
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as the car pulled up to the museum’s front entrance, you shakily smoothed your hair and dress with one hand, the other clutching a crumpled sheet of paper with your speech.
you couldn’t decide which was more pitiful. the frizzy flyaways escaping your hastily curled hair? or the piece of stationary, painstakingly flattened but still creased, one of the thirty-two drafts you’d written, retrieved reluctantly from the hotel floor?
the driver parked as an attendant opened the door, offering a hand to help you out. the museum director approached with a reassuring smile, and a suit probably worth more than thirty of your paintings combined.
the driver parked an attendant opened the car door and offered you a hand to help you out. the director approached you with a comforting smile and a suit that probably cost more than 30 of your paintings combined.
“welcome! how are you feeling?”
“to be honest,” you replied with a nervous smile. "I'm terribly anxious.”
he chuckled, holding the front door open for you. “that’s perfectly natural. don’t worry! the patrons will love you and your work. anyone would be foolish not to.”
“thank you, director…” you murmured, his words doing little to calm your trembling hands.
the head assistant joined your walk to the gallery hall, peppering you with one question after another.
“the catering service has just finished setting up. would you please take a final sample of the gyoza and ohitashi? they don’t look quite the same as they did during the original tasting…”
“we have a very important guest from malaysia… would you like me to introduce you two when she arrives? it would be a shame if you didn’t at least find time to say hello…”
“are you absolutely certain about the painting for the final reveal? i know you said it’s special to you but the other assistants and i agreed that the other one would-”
“alright, that’s enough questions,” the director interjected as you neared the gallery hall. you let out a small breath of relief. you thought you might burst if another word came out of the assistant’s mouth. “please go make sure the waiters have the champagne chilled and poured.”
“thank you,” you whispered to the director as the assistant walked away.
“please, don’t thank me. they can be so overbearing. sometimes, it’s better to just let things flow as life means them to,” he replied with a smile.
“yeah…” you replied, glancing at your paintings, their eyes seemingly judging you.
“i can see you’re terrified, and that’s okay. you’ve never done this on such a big stage before!” he laughed. “but truly, it’s not all that different than a smaller exhibition.”
“i don’t think i deserve to be here.”
“if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be.”
you looked at the director, letting his words calm your nerves a bit. your gaze wandered to one of your paintings, a vibrant reinterpretation of jeanne: spring by édouard manet, now alive with bold reds and yellows. 
it was both different and familiar, evoking nostalgia even in those who knew the original. the abstract strokes depicted a striking dark-skinned woman you had met in the park, with bright orange braids cascading down to her waist, her skin glowing against the polka-dotted umbrella she carried.
upon meeting her, you had eagerly asked to paint her, offering what little savings you had left in return. she had given you a sideways smile and agreed, letting you capture her portrait for free.
over the next week, you posed her in your small apartment, finding moments between both of your busy schedules. when you finally showed her the finished piece, she grinned again and said, “oh sweetie, you’re gonna be big one day.”
though she couldn’t be here in tokyo, her spirit was with you, embodied in the painting with that sideways smile even the umbrella couldn’t overshadow.
"onee-san!"
your attention shifted from the painting to the other side of the room, where a group was led by itadori yuji and his toothy grin.
"itadori-kun!"
“and me! hello?” satoru added playfully.
“of course, you too,” you smiled. “thank you for coming, i'm so thrilled you’re here. you all look amazing!”
“no, you look amazing. and i wouldn’t miss this for the world,” satoru said, hugging you. "onee-san, i want you to meet all my students!”
as he finished introducing you to the first and second years, a warm hand rested on your shoulder. you turned to see an old classmate, now with long hair and a familiar pair of boots.
“shoko ieri, take my shoes off right now!” you laughed, throwing your arms around her.
“um, no way. you never even wore them when you had them,” she teased.
shoko's expression softened as she noticed the tears welling in your eyes. she looked just the same, but you couldn’t help noticing the worry lines between her brown, evident even with her smile.
“i didn’t think i'd see you again,” she said quietly.
“me neither… i'm so-”
“-stop talking,” she interrupted. “we brought gifts for you!”
you let go of shoko while yuji held out a large bouquet of blue and pink daisies.
“oh, stop it!” you exclaimed, taking the flowers. “they’re beautiful. thank you all so much!”
“we’re not done yet! there’s more,” satoru said slyly, holding out a small black box.
your heart nearly stopped when you pried the lid open to reveal a large pearl pendant on a gold chain.
“you-”
“-there’s more. look under the velvet,” shoko urged. you carefully lifted the padding to reveal a check with the note “a commission for the staff and students” made out for…
“ten million fucking yen?!”
“whoa, language!” satoru laughed. “kids, go run and play or something.”
“shoko, did you know about this?” you panicked as the students filed away with quiet giggles. “i seriously can’t accept this!”
“yes, you will,” shoko retorted, crossing her arms.
“a commission for what?”
“girl, did you even read the check?” satoru huffed playfully. “you’re gonna paint a portrait of the staff and students at jujutsu high. and hopefully, instead of ignoring us, it’ll cover a plane ticket back so you can visit us next year.”
tears welled up in your eyes again, spilling down your cheeks.
“no. seriously. i-no! i can’t accept this! this is an insane amount of money for a commission like that. i'll paint for you guys for free. and you’ll return this necklace because i know you spent too much money on it, too.”
“stop talking and just accept the gift,” shoko urged.
“but i don’t deserve it.”
“now you’re just spouting nonsense,” satoru said as he placed a hand on your shoulder and turned you toward the gallery entrance. he pointed at the large banner bearing your gallery information. “what does that banner say?”
“it says my name,” you sniffled, still clutching the flowers and box.
“no, idiot. i'm talking about the quotes.”
“um…” you blinked away tears. “someone truly exceptional…?”
“and?”
“a modern-day van gogh…?”
“one more.”
“art that every being should hope to be privileged enough to experience.”
“good job, you can read!” satoru smiled, giving your shoulders a slight shake. “some snobby rich art critics said that about you. now, stop feeling fucking sorry for yourself and make sure everyone has their attention on you tonight.”
“and deposit the check when you get home,” shoko added.
“yes, please deposit the check,” satoru agreed. “if you lose it, i'll be pissed.”
you wrapped your arms around satoru and shoko, squeezing tight in tearful appreciation. they had no idea… the check would cover over a year’s worth of rent, premium canvases, all fine-haired brushes you could ever want, and even a payment on a car. you swore to yourself that you’d pour your soul into painting them a fucking masterpiece.
“now let go,” satoru said, pushing you away. “and go impress all these high-class art people.”
“okay, okay, i'm going!” you smiled with a sniffle.
wiping your tears away, you waved at your classmates as you walked further into the gallery to greet the small crowd that had arrived. sometime during your conversation, your hands must have stopped trembling.
“you’re gonna be just fine,” you thought to yourself with a grin.
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next: part nine
tag list // @bubybubsters @sad-darksoul @corvid007 @kenqki @ikon-teen
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bryngmemoney · 8 months
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✁FASHION FLIRT✃
Megumi Fushiguro x Reader
⭑story masterlist link
tw:none
🪡Chapter Twenty-six: Ignored
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“Uno.”
“Oh you suck Y/n,” Nobara said, reaching to pick up a card from the pile in front of you. You just smile, officially winning the game when you place down your last card.
“Shouldn’t you two be working?” Maki said as she put a safety pin through Yuta’s shirt. Yuta jumped when he felt a prick at his side, “Ow.” Maki looked at him apologetically, “Sorry, didn’t mean to.”
“I’m basically finished, just waiting for Gojo to check over them. He saw Yuki’s already and I finished the the guys’ today.”
“And Nobara finished as well? Because we planned to come here to work on the clothes.” Maki questioned.
“Yeah they’re all good, everyone’s set,” Nobara looked down shuffling the cards together for another round. “You’re positive?” you asked as you watched her flip the cards together. “It’s just a few details, i’ll finish it next class, i’m exhausted from this week.”
“Well good for you guys then,” Maki turned back to Yuta trying figure out what needed adjustments to make the shirt fit him right. “Do you need some help Maki?”
“No it’s fine Y/n. I just don’t know why I can’t get Yuta’s shirt to fit him the way I want it too, it’s annoying having to continue to rip the seems apart and everything.”
“Don’t worry Maki, i’m sure you’ll get it right!” Yuta encouraged, trying to not seem off put by the threat of more safety pins poking him.
You and Nobara gave encouragement to her, then returned to your game, only for your attention to turn back to Maki a few minutes later when the sound of a metal clink echoed through the room.
“Shit!”
“What happened?” Nobara asked, leaning slightly around your head as you turned around to look at Maki who was currently sitting in front of a sewing machine. Yuta turned to you guys with a worried look “Ugh, I think this thing is broken, and it ruined the shirt.” Maki, clearly frustrated just stared at the piece of clothing in front of her. “I don’t have anymore of the same fabric either.”
You, Nobara and Yuta all exchanged a glance, trying to silently figure out a way to help.
“I could go and run to the store and get more fabric,” Yuta offered. “And I can go with you! I went with Maki to the store that one time. I know which ones you used, but we can take the receipt just to be sure,” you added on.
“I can stay here and help with whatever you need,” Nobara walked over to where Maki was sitting, willing to just be moral support or do whatever was needed.
“That.. that would be great actually, thanks.”
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Finally getting into the car after packing all of Maki’s fabric from the list she had sent you, you sighed leaning against the seat. It shouldn’t have taken more than hour to drive, get the fabrics, then drive back and meet them at the room. However you and Yuta had the unfortunate luck of having to deal with a clueless employee. As patient as you two were being, how could they say they didn’t sell what you were looking for in the store, that you were at the wrong place when the name at the top of the receipt was the location you were currently at?
“That was exhausting,” Yuta mumbled, starting up the car ready to take you two back. “Poor Maki, she really wanted to get everything done, but I don’t think she’ll finish today,” you said while unlocking your phone, only to be met with a few messages from Megumi, the last one specifically catching your eye.
“Shit.”
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Author’s Note: r.i.p. maki
was originally gonna make y/n and nobara play b.s. but then i realized that doesn’t rlly work with two ppl
quick question tho guys, would u want two chapters tomorrow ill probably have them ready
but anyways hope you guys enjoyed!
Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!
TAGLIST
@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers @kpopanimen @sad-darksoul @vivi-loves-penguins @kasumitenbaz @talkingsperm @nymphsdomain @inlovewithlondonn @rzcnlb @enchantingkitty @fuyuzemi @lysaray @ni-ki-ismyluv @renemy @frumira @mixzimi @miralunaela @dreamxiing @p3achiee @anianurst @nishii28 @arguendo @samutoru @hallothankmas @invisible-mori @aiserex @all-in-the-fandoms @milza12 @nyxlai @daintyminho @tokyodarlng
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chaos-in-deepspace · 3 months
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L&DS Xavier: Midnight Snack | Drabble
Aaaaah the second done of my 10 minute drabbles. Honestly I ended up writing seven of these so I might just like...do this regularly with the boys. Maybe not write all seven drabbles in a day but just doing writing sprints for them and dedicating a week on my blog per boy? Eh we shall see. Anyway, enjoy Xavie Baby.
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Pairing: Xavier x Reader Warning: None Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.
Blog Information | Masterlist
Xavier
Not being able to sleep through the entire night was annoying no matter what. Waking up suddenly to an empty bed and stomach was probably the worst feeling you knew. You reached out in the dark, feeling at the area where Xavier should’ve been, and finding nothing in turn. The bed was still warm though, traces of him left.
Then your stomach growled and you let out a pathetic whimper. You had let Xavier cook dinner for once after he had all but begged and he wanted to try something new out. Little did you know that something new would result in a stomach retching concoction. Here you thought the man was getting better at cooking.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to get something to snack on. Xavier wasn’t there to cling onto you and keep you in bed so you simply swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up, grabbing a blanket to toss over your shoulders as you shimmied your way into the kitchen.
The moonlight was the only light source you had to work with as you avoided bumping into walls, eventually reaching your kitchen with probably only one or two new bruises along the way. Then you heard it, his voice, calling your name.
You were still half asleep when you let out an affirmative hum, “Xav?” you murmured tiredly as you looked to see Xavier’s frame being illuminated by the fridge’s light. He looked a bit surprised to see you as he slowly stood up from his crouching position.
“What are you doing out of bed?” His voice also sounded a bit groggy. You heard a growl and this time it wasn’t from you. You couldn’t help but let out a small snicker at the situation at hand.
“Same as you, I got hungry.” You comment as you waddle over to the wall and search for the lights. Once you flicked it on you flinched from the sudden intrusion but soon you got used to it. Xavier was shirtless, standing in only his long night pants and holding what seemed to be an apple.
“Oh…I guess neither of us ate enough for dinner.” He said and you nodded, going over and grabbing the apple from his hand. Before he could protest you took a large bite out of it, chewing slowly before realizing this wasn’t what you wanted. You handed the bitten apple back to Xavier and turned to the cabinets.
“Maybe next time if you want to experiment, only do it with one dish and leave the others alone?” You said as you thought of something nice and simple to make. You grabbed some bread from the pantry and went over to grab a handful of other things. A bit of cinnamon, sugar, and butter was slathered onto four pieces of bread as Xavier looked over.
“What are you making?” He finally asked and you hummed, opening the toaster oven and putting them inside.
“Something sweet.” You said happily, “Don’t worry, two of those slices are for you. Now can you pour some glasses of milk?” you asked him.
Xavier didn’t question further, going to grab the milk and pouring some glasses. You went over back to the pantry and grabbed some vanilla extract and put some into the liquid, smiling happily.
“Isn’t this going to be too sweet?” he finally asked, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.
“Nothing is too sweet for a midnight snack. It’s either you go sweet or savory, and I wanted sweet tonight.” You said and you could feel his lips pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“I think maybe next time we’ll go savory, after all you’re already too sweet.” He said, making you flush.
“Oh the flatterer.” You murmured. You heard the toaster oven going off and went over, carefully putting the toast onto a plate. Xavier didn't bother waiting for it to cool, going over and biting a chunk of the hot toast.
You watched as he fanned his mouth from the heat and laughed. “You gotta let it cool, babes.” you said as you blew on your own and bite into it.
“It’s good…” Xavier finally concluded, sipping on his milk and nodding, “So is the drink.”
“I know, this used to be my go to as a kid you know.” You said then turned to him, “Whenever I woke up at night I’d make this then go back to sleep.”
Xavier had already polished off a piece of toast when he turned towards you, “Is that so…then perhaps we should do this more often…”
“Keep cooking toxic waste and we will.” You said and walked over to him, placing your hands on his chest, “Not that I mind the extra time spent with you.” your hand now threaded in his hair. Xavier bent down, leaving a soft and sugary kiss on your lips.
“Then I’ll cook dinner again tomorrow night?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
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Words can't describe how tired I am today lol. I almost went to bed and forgot to post this.
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himexyandere · 9 months
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Yandere Headcanons Pt. 2
Content Warning(s): Obsessive behavior, malpractice, gaslighting, manipulation, drugging
A/N: These are just more yandere HC's that I thought of and wanted to post ^^ I haven't written anything here for a while, so I figured I'd post something! Not sure what my next post will be, honestly, I'll probably do a poll and ask what you guys would like to see. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! <3
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Yandere!Doctor who keeps you in his hospital by occasionally slipping different harmless drugs into your meals that makes you a little lightheaded and exhibit signs of being feverish, thus extending your visit.
Had someone told you that you would be staying for a bit at a hospital with your favorite doctor, you probably would’ve been elated to hear such a thing!
That wasn’t necessarily the case, however — yes, he was your favorite doctor and he’d always called you his “star patient” when the two of you were alone, but you weren’t exactly a huge fan of hospitals 
Staying for more than a week was already too much for you, yet he still wouldn’t let you leave 
“My dear, you may not think your symptoms are worrying, but they certainly are. A fever that comes and goes at random is nothing to treat lightly. I will be extending your stay until you feel better.” 
During your first week, a male nurse was the one who came to bring you your food and medicine, occasionally striking up casual conversations with you to help you feel more comfortable in such a quiet, sterile place 
After another week or so, you hadn’t seen him again. Confused, you asked your doctor where the nurse went and he gave you a seemingly perturbed frown 
“I’m sorry, dear, but we had to let him go. One of the other nurses found him assaulting a comatose patient. Terrible, isn’t it? I’m just glad he’s gone now and is no longer a danger to anyone… Wouldn’t you agree?” 
Had a month gone by already? You honestly couldn’t tell anymore. Your doctor was the only one who visited your room, stating that visitation was on hold for a while due to some issue or another—
He’s the doctor so why would you question him? He only wants what’s best for his “star patient”, after all
You were originally in for a small health scare at work, but now…
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Yandere!Househusband who clings to you, slightly causing a bit of concern amongst your friends and family, but you feel like his clinginess is normal... At first.
He acted like the two of you were still a newlywed couple or something 
He always, always, always craves your attention, wanting to be close to you whenever feasible
This meant that leaving home to go to your job every morning was a nearly impossible feat, considering he rarely ever let you escape his arms (at least not without some bribery first) 
“If you promise to spend the entire weekend with me here in our home, then I’ll let you leave for work. How’s that sound, darling?” 
This was a common occurrence, leading you to spend most, if not all, of your free time cuddling up with your husband at home, watching corny movies and eating snacks. 
Your friends and family started seeing less and less of you, prompting them to call and visit your home more often with questions about where you’ve been. You always tell them that you’re fine and you’ve just been spending some time relaxing with your hubby 
He was delighted by your replies and would later tell you after they left that he loves you so, so much 
He does get anxious at times, though, wondering constantly if you’re annoyed with him or if you secretly hate his clinginess and overwhelming adoration
After you told him that you would be going to hang out with your friends one evening, he nearly lost it in front of you. Fortunately, he managed to maintain a gentle smile as he encouraged you to go and have a good time 
When you got back later that night, your husband informed you that he’d scheduled a getaway for your upcoming anniversary! He’s already called your job and put in for PTO, so you don’t have to worry your little head—you’re going to have so much fun… Just the two of you.
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fandom-friday · 9 months
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The goal of Fandom Friday: provide a place where people can shout-out their favorite creators from the week, whether it’s a piece of fan art that made you smile or a fanfic that moved you. Drop a link to your favorite creations this week into my ask box along with what you loved about it, and I will give them a shout! It doesn’t have to be Star Wars either! If it’s on another website (AO3, Twitter, etc.), please be sure to state that as well.
This happens each week, so don’t feel like you’ve got to get out everything in one week. Just keep track of them throughout the week or send me an ask whenever you find something, and I’ll drop them all on Fridays (or throughout the weekend if I get a lot). The cutoff for each week is THURSDAY 12 PM (I’m in the Pacific timezone). Anything received after that will roll to the next week. A summary of the weeks’ recs will be posted at the end of the weekly queue, so check back here for all of the awesome fics and art! And be sure to go give the creations on that list some love (and don’t just share the ask responses I put out).
2024 Fandom Friday Weekly Summary Master List
Rules and additional details under the cut! PLEASE make sure you read the rules before sending something in. If your submission violates any of the rules, I will delete it.
Rules:
Please send submissions to my ask box (sending them all to one place makes wrangling them easier each week). In your ask, please include the creator’s handle, a link to their work/post (if links aren’t working for the ask, please DM me them), and what you loved about it!
Please ensure the link is to the creator’s original post and not your own reblog or repost of their work (if they’re on another platform). The idea is to drive people to visit the creator’s page!
The creation does not have to have been posted this week! It can be something older. Also, don’t worry about whether or not a rec is a repeat from a prior week. Just looking to celebrate things that made an impression on you this week, whether you’ve seen it before or not!
NSFW is alright! Just make sure you note it in the ask so I can flag appropriately! Since I’m including 18+ material, minors may not participate. 18+ posts will be tagged with NSFT/lemon/lemony lemon (trying to cover all my bases).
NO incest, underage, cl*necest blogs, master/padawan (or similar power dynamics), dub-con/non-con/rape occurring IN the fic (to include stalker/obsessive behavior fics). Also, no H*rry Potter. There are a few others that I also won’t share due to my discomfort with them (i.e., R*xsoka), so if you’re not sure, ask. Also, many of you submit multiple works at once, and that’s fine, but if one of those works contains something that violates the rules, I will delete the entire ask, so something to be extra careful about when submitting!
Submissions that deal with 18+ material or difficult/triggering topics (pregnancy, abuse, drug use, etc.) MUST BE TAGGED APPROPRIATELY.
If your rec involves spoilers from a show that’s currently running, please include that info in the ask so I can tag it appropriately (I will normally tag a few different ways, but I always use #<show title> spoilers if you need to filter (for example: Andor spoilers will be tagged #Andor Spoilers). I will stop tagging spoilers two weeks after the show stops airing.
You can submit GIF sets or edits, but please ensure you are submitting from the blog that actually created them. Wanted to add that caution since there’s been a lot of people stealing/reposting GIFs and edits in particular recently. So just be cautious.
Try to avoid commentary in your ask that might make others feel bad (“the only person who knows how to write XXX correctly…”). It’s important to be able to appreciate creators without making others feel bad, so let’s try to keep the commentary complimentary without being off-putting for other creators.
Self recommendations are allowed and encouraged! Shout out your own hard work! You deserve the recognition!
*Rules subject to change so PLEASE make sure you read them before sending something in. If your submission violates any of the rules, I will delete it.
**If you have any questions about any of the rules, don’t hesitate to DM me!In addition to sending me asks, I highly encourage you to go either leave a comment on and/or reblog someone’s work (tag me or use the #Fandom Friday tag if you do!). Let’s get the interaction back up on this website and show the creators that work so hard on their stuff some love!
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writingonleaves · 1 year
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it's so hard to watch everything i want (everything i was spinning down the drain) - trevor zegras
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pairing: trevor zegras x original female character
warnings: swearing, angst-ish, mentions of cheating (not between the two main characters), self-loathing, fluff
based on: "bleach" by 5 seconds of summer + "the archer" by taylor swift. title from "bleach"
word count: 15.6k
author's note: tried my hand at writing trevor's pov and it was Hard. this one means a lot to me personally so i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it! takes place at least five ish years from now so future fic alert!! trevor is finally employed again and that motivated me to finish this LOL
*****
Trevor Zegras is good at a lot of things. Remembering names and faces is at the top of the list.
It kinda makes sense. He’s been meeting and shaking hands with people ever since he was a teenager, most of them wanting something from him in one way shape or form. It’s not completely a bad thing. He wouldn’t have gotten this far without knowing who he was talking to. 
So that’s why it’s such a surprise that it took him a whole damn hour to figure out why the wedding planner for Jack and Amelie’s wedding looked so familiar. Isabelle, she introduced herself as, and he keeps racking his mind to see if he knows an Isabelle, but he comes up empty.
As a groomsman, Trevor was expected to come to the venue earlier. He didn’t have to come a whole week earlier, but he had nothing else going on and the wedding’s in Michigan, so it wasn’t completely inconvenient for him. He just crashed at Jack and Quinn’s, to which the latter rolled his eyes at. But the soon-to-be-married couple were thrilled that he was coming early so they could put him to work, and he was more than happy to help out. 
It’s halfway through assembling floral centerpieces when he shoots his head up to the wedding planner across from him. “Belle Holloway?”
Belle looks up with a small smile. “Been a long time since anyone’s called me that.”
“Holy shit. I knew you looked familiar. It’s been so long.”
“Z, are you bothering Isabelle?” Jack calls out from another table. “Please don’t scare her away. She’s been our lifesaver the last year.”
Belle chuckles. “You don’t need to worry, Jack.”
“Yeah, Hughesy. Belle and I go way back.”
Amelie is passing by and hears that comment, raising her eyebrows. “You two know each other?”
“We grew up in the same town,” Belle explains, tying a ribbon around a bunch of flowers. “My brother was in Trevor’s grade in school. They played hockey together for a bit before Trevor got too good and left.”
“Belle was probably the smartest girl in school,” Trevor adds with a hint of pride in his tone. “Can’t say the same about her brother. Where did you end up going to college?”
“University of Michigan.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jack smirk. Weirdo. He literally didn’t even go to Michigan. 
Trevor whistles. “Still smart. Where is Connor these days? He went to UConn, right?”
“Yup. He’s with his wife in Chicago now. Doing something with finance.”
Trevor makes a mental note to reach out to his old friend the next time he’s in Chicago. “And little Lily?”
Belle chuckles. “Not so little anymore. She graduated from Parsons last year and works at Michael Kors as a designer.”
Trevor smiles knowingly. “Guess her styling Connor all those years paid off, eh?”
“Guess so.”
(Amelie and Jack are at another table working on centerpieces, overhearing this conversation. They give each other a knowing look as they keep eavesdropping. This is why Belle didn’t seem surprised during their initial consultation when they had to explain Jack’s hockey schedule and why he wouldn’t be able to adhere to the traditional timeline if he wanted to be at all the appointments. Little did they know, she already knew someone in the NHL)
She then asks about his family, because while Trevor was always her brother’s friend, their parents got to know each other pretty well to the point where they would go over to each other’s for dinner enough for her to remember. Trevor talks about how Griffin is off doing God knows what in Florida but having a good time at his sports marketing job and how Ava, who’s the same age as Lily, graduated from Elon and is now in the Philly area as a nurse. 
They’re now moving pots of flowers around as they venture into their lives post-grad. “So have you been in Michigan this whole time?” Trevor asks.
“Yeah, though I had a brief stint in Santa Ana. This wedding is my last one here, actually, so a fun one to end on.”
Trevor follows her eye-line at the soon-to-be-newlyweds, who are now decorating the photo station but more fucking around then decorating. Amelie’s slapping Jack’s shoulder as he laughs loudly. Trevor smiles at the sight. “They’re great, aren’t they?”
“They are,” Belle admits. “I’ve worked with a lot of couples, but they’re one of my favorites. From the fact that they’re organized and flexible and so kind and understanding to the fact that they seem to be super in love with each other.”
“You said this is your last wedding here?” Belle nods. “Where you off to next?”
Trevor notices her stiffening a bit, and he immediately wants to take the question back. But the discomfort leaves as fast as it came. “Not sure. Gonna do some last minute packing up and then go home to New York next week to reset and figure it out from there. Connor offered his guest room in Chicago so I might take that. I have some friends that are dispersed around the country as well.” She shakes her head and switches topics and he makes a mental note of her vague answer. “Enough about me. How about you, Mr. NHL? Not gonna lie, when I saw Jack’s list of groomsmen, I had to brace myself mentally when I saw your name.”
“Brace yourself? What does that mean?”
Belle chuckles and his smile widens at the sound. “It’s been awhile, but not everything is different. I’m sure you’re still the life of the party everywhere you go, which means you’re at high risk of intruding on my meticulous plans on the day. Mind grabbing those shears for me next to you?”
He passes her the shears, standing up straight. “Jack’s conned you. He is way worse than I am.”
“Jack is also the groom so he knows that he has to listen to what I say if he wants things to go well,” Belle says. “How have you been, though? Has Anaheim been treating you well?”
“It has. The team’s great. The weather’s great. The beach is right there. Very different from Bedford.”
“Congrats on a great season. The playoff run was fun to watch.”
His eyebrow shoots up. “You watched?”
She shrugs a bit sheepishly. “If a game is on, I’ll usually watch. It’s like white noise to me now, after going to Connor’s, and I guess your games growing up. I went to a couple of Ducks games during the two years I lived in Cali.”
“And you didn’t reach out?”
She wipes her hands on her jeans. “I…you were always more Connor’s friend than mine. Didn’t want it to be weird.”
“It wouldn’t have been,” he assures. “Next time, let me know and I’ll get you tickets. You still have my number?”
“I do.”
“Perfect,” Amelie then comes up and seems like she has a question. “I’ll let you ladies be. Where’s your fiance?” He asks the bride-to-be.
“Quinn just arrived, so probably making sure the bar is all good, since you guys have your weird ass drink preferences,” Amelie says. “We should be almost done here though. Just have a couple last questions for Belle and then we’ll head back.”
Trevor snorts. “Typical. I’ll go find them.” He turns back to Belle with a grin. “Good to see you, Belle. Don’t be a stranger.”
Belle smiles. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior.” Trevor promises, before walking away. 
When things finally settle down a couple of hours later and he settles into one of the guest rooms for the night, he reflects back to his own childhood and memories of Isabelle Holloway, or Belle, as everyone used to call her. Brunette and green-eyed, Belle was decently quiet compared to him and Connor’s wild teenage boy energy, but she was talkative with her own friends and Trevor’s parents adored her. She loved Taylor Swift, and if Trevor looked into it deeper, her blasting her music around all the time probably got Trevor to like it purely through osmosis. She was always clean, happy to do the dishes and Trevor often caught her organizing the living room and basement without being asked. She was incredibly smart, always had her homework done before hanging out with her friends and seemed to always ace her classes with minimal difficulty. Even when Connor gave her shit just because he was the oldest sibling, she rarely dished it back. That kindness extended to all of Connor’s friends as well, including Trevor, even when they were loud and playing video games when she came home from school. Every memory he has of Connor growing up, Belle’s right around the corner.
Belle Holloway had always been too good to them. It’s a no-brainer that her profession is based on giving something to others.
He still follows Connor on Instagram, so he goes to his old friend’s page to find his sister’s page. She’s private, but he doesn’t hesitate on requesting her account. He goes to take a shower and brush his teeth and when he comes back to his phone, he’s delighted to see that she’s accepted his follow request. 
Thus begins his stalking. 
There’s not many posts to stalk — she only has 47 — but it does span the amount of years he lost touch with the Holloways. There are posts from her later high school years when Trevor had already left Bedford, and he smiles to himself when he sees the post from her high school graduation, with Connor, Belle and Lily all cheesing in one photo. There are various posts from her college years — she must’ve spent a semester or a summer abroad in Barcelona — mixed with some various travels from Yellowstone to Sweden to Miami. Then it gets less frequent after she graduates college, posts of the Michigan landscape, posts with friends on a night out, at a friend’s wedding, the rare photos of just herself. She notices there’s a guy in some of those posts, but no one’s tagged and the caption doesn’t reveal anything, so he figures it must be a friend or ex-boyfriend of some sort. 
One thing that hasn’t changed much, he thinks, is how beautiful she is. As he scrolls on her Instagram and thinks back to seeing her earlier today, he kinda can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she is.
The day of the wedding comes by and it’s an early start for the bridal party. Trevor rolls into the Planterra Conservatory at 8:47 a.m. with coffees for himself, Quinn, Luke and Jack while Cole had gotten coffees for himself, Nico and Alex earlier. The suits are already hung up by the window of the spacious room and beers have already been opened. 
“Starting off early, eh?” He sets down the coffees on the table. 
“It’s a big day,” Luke calls out from steaming everyone’s suits.
“That it is,” he stops by the chair Jack is sitting in and gives him a hug. “Congrats, man. You nervous?”
“Nah,” Jack smiles. “More excited than anything.”
Quinn grabs his coffee and sits down. “I stopped by the bridal suite just a few minutes ago. Amelie said the same thing.”
Jack lights up at the mere mention of her. “I’m just anxious to see her, to be honest.”
Belle walks in then, clad in a light green jumpsuit and a tan blazer, with a bright smile on his face. “Oh good, Trevor made it. Everyone all good in here? Do you guys need anything?”
Jack grins. “We’re all good here, Isabelle. Thank you. I’ll holler if we need anything. Promise.”
She shoots the groom a semi-skeptical look before nodding. “Okay. I’ll check back in, in 30 minutes.”
“Do you need any help at all?” Nico asks. 
She shakes her head with a thankful smile. “You all are too kind. I’m good. Michelle and I are manning the floor. She’s kinda doing my job better than I am, when she has her own bridesmaid duties to worry about.”
“Impossible.” Quinn remarks. “You’re fabulous at your job.”
Belle rolls her eyes fondly, and Trevor’s reminded that even though she’s the one running the show, she’s younger than a majority of the bridal party. “Flatterer.” She takes her phone out of her pocket and clicks her tongue. “Alright. I’m out.” She looks at Trevor with a pointed look. “Zegras. You better come find me if anything goes wrong.”
“Why are you entrusting that responsibility onto me?”
“Because I have so many stories about you that I could tell everyone if you don’t listen to me.”
Trevor gasps in mock offense. “Belle, oh Belle! Resorting to blackmail?”
The whole room laughs as she grins. She stops in front of him, a more serious look on her face. “Call me if anything goes wrong?”
“I gotcha.” He assures her with a firm nod and she shoots everyone one last grin before walking out. If his eyes linger on her, no one has to know. 
(Everyone in the room knows. He doesn’t notice them all giving each other knowing smirks)
Jack speaks up first. “Z, if you end up hooking up with my wedding planner, give her a good time at least. She deserves it.”
“Jesus Christ, Jacky.” Trevor groans as everyone cackles. Thankfully for him, they drop it after that. 
The next time he and Belle get to interact is after the ceremony — to which he couldn’t stop smiling watching one of his his long-time best friends marry the girl of his dreams, proudly watching at the front as they exchanged vows to love each other forever — when it’s time for pictures and Belle and the photographer are working together to direct everybody where they need to go. Belle stops directly in front of Trevor and focuses on fixing his boutonniere. Her tongue pokes out as she focuses on making it straight after several attempts. Even amongst a crazy day, he feels a sense of calm surrounding him. 
She huffs. “Why won’t your boutonniere stay still?”
He smiles down at her cheekily. “On my worst behavior.”
She snorts, before softening. “Thank you for earlier.” He knows she’s referencing when there was a minor mix up with the rings right before the ceremony was about to start and Trevor got it under control within 10 minutes. 
“Of course.”
She puts a piece of stray hair back on his head away from his forehead and he feels his heart flutter at her light touch. She smirks a bit. “On your best behavior today, actually. Like you promised.”
“Don’t count on it once the open bar hits.”
She laughs before moving on to fix Luke’s collar and Trevor gets a second to finally take a normal breath.
The next time he spots Belle is well into the reception, when the dance floor is full and the drinks are flowing and everyone is enjoying themselves. She’s nibbling on a slice of cake in the corner, eyes sweeping through the crowd with a small smile on her face
Trevor, who ditched his blazer after ‘Mr. Brightside’ brought the place down at least 7 songs ago, strolls over, hands in his slacks. “Haven’t seen you in a bit, Belle of the Ball.”
Her nose wrinkles. “No one’s called me that since I was 6.”
“A good wedding to end off on?” 
“I think so,” she smiles, staring at Amelie giggling as she pours a bottle of champagne into Jack’s mouth. “You having a good time?”
“The best. And I’ve been to a lot of weddings. You did beautifully.”
Belle waves him off. “All in a day’s work.”
“Do you still have fun at weddings? Since you have to work them?”
“Yes and no,” she admits. ‘Yes, because the end result is always worth it and seeing the happy couple live their day is always worth it. No because now when I go to weddings of my friends and family, it’s hard to turn my work brain off.” 
“Are you allowed to dance at your clients’ weddings?”
“I usually wouldn’t,” she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.
“Make an exception for an old friend? To celebrate your last wedding in Michigan?”
She looks away for a second. “I don’t want to make Jack or Amelie feel weird.”
“Those two couldn’t care less. I’m sure they’d actually encourage it.”
He shoots what he hopes is an encouraging smile as he offers a hand. She looks at him for a couple of seconds before letting him help her up. 
It’s perfect timing as ‘Lover’ by Taylor Swift comes on and the once rowdy floor is calmer, with couples dancing with each other or families dancing with their kids. It’s a dance floor filled with love.
He guides Belle to put her arms around his neck as he carefully places his on her waist. 
“I told Connor about seeing you again.” She starts
“Oh yeah? What did he say?”
“He told me to tell you to hit him up the next time you’re in Chicago.”
“Was already planning on it.”
“He also said and I quote ‘if the next thing I hear is that Zegras is dating my sister, I will kill him.’” Trevor tips his head back in laughter as Belle chuckles. “He’s lucky I never dated any of his friends. He had some cute ones.”
“Was I one of them?”
“Nice try. I’m not blowing smoke up your ass, Trevor.” She says dryly. “Besides, I was kinda kidding. It’s not like you or any of his friends would’ve gone for me anyways.”
Now he’s confused. “What?” He thinks she’s joking, but from her face he realizes she’s not. “You do know that like, half of the hockey team had a crush on you, right?” She tips her head back in laughter as he squeezes her waist. “I’m not kidding. It annoyed Connor to no end.”
She snorts. “There’s no way.”
“Up to you whether to believe it or not. Just know that I never lie, Belle.”
She hums, and the way she’s looking at him makes his hands start sweating. He hopes she can’t feel it through her jumpsuit. “What you’ve done with your hockey career and everything, it’s really cool. I’m happy for you, Trevor. You deserve it.”
And he’s heard so many compliments about his career throughout his whole career, but it’s different coming from someone from his hometown. Someone who knew him before he left and knew what he was like before the NHL — before his days at the NTDP, even. Someone who has nothing to gain from complimenting him. 
“Thank you, Belle. That-that means a lot coming from you.”
She just smiles back before they fall into a comfortable silence and keep dancing. He twirls her and does an exaggerated dip that has her giggling. They keep dancing and dancing, even as the songs change tempo.
(Amelie, who’s resting her feet right by the dance floor, nudges Jack and gives him a look. She picks up a disposable camera and points it at them, before taking her phone and also taking a picture. She has an inkling that Trevor and Isabelle may want these someday)
“What are you up to before the season starts?” 
He shrugs. “I’m not sure, actually. I just need to be back in Anaheim for pre-season in three weeks.”
“Where are you staying?”
“Quinn and Jack have been letting me crash at their place. Don’t have an exact date of when I’m leaving yet.”
Belle snorts, though it’s paired with a smile that seems fond. “Still the same, huh, Trev?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your spontaneity used to stress my parents out, even back then. The reason they still liked you is because you could charm your way out of it.”
“I stressed Kurt and Susan out?” He says, actually worried.
“Oh, hush. It’s not that deep. My dad loves watching you play. There’s been many a family call where I hear a Ducks game on in the background. Unless it’s against the Rangers, of course, in which you don’t matter.”
“To be expected,” Trevor says, heart lifting at the fact that two people who used to drive him around so much still support him, even from afar. “Do they still live in Bedford?”
“Yup. Though with the amount of time my dad spends in White Plains golfing, you’d think they lived there now. He’s loving retirement, clearly.”
Trevor laughs. “I’ll have to hit up Kurt when I’m back for a couple rounds. Does Susan still make the best apple pie?”
“Yup. And everyone still raves about it when she brings it to parties.” 
“You think she’d make me a slice?”
“She’d bake you three pies and send you home with them to Julie and Gary.”
He grins. “Never knew little Belle was this sassy.”
“Because you wasted all your time with Connor.” She shoots back with a laugh. 
(Honestly, he thinks as he twirls her again, maybe she’s right. Who knows what could’ve been if he had seen Belle as more than just Connor’s quieter, talented sister.)
“You said you’re leaving next week?”
“Yeah. Just need to sort out some boxes to move to storage before driving back to New York.”
“You’re driving all the way back to Bedford?”
She laughs at his slight disbelief. “Well, yeah. It’s only a 10 hour drive.”
Suddenly, an idea pops into Trevor’s head, and before he can overthink it, he blurts it out. “What if I came with you?” She blinks, and he forges on. “I mean, I don’t have much going on and it’d be nice to go home before pre-season. I’ll help you load your car and pay for your gas and meals and-”
“Trevor, I-are you sure? You don’t have to…we literally just reconnected after not seeing each other for over a decade.”
“I know I don’t have to do anything,” he says, now trying everything to convince her. “If I’m overstepping, you can tell me and I’ll immediately lay off. But it just seems like…maybe some company could be nice. And we could switch off driving too.”
She bites her lip and tilts her head curiously, trying to find something in his face. It only took her a couple of seconds to chuckle. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but sure. Why not? Come join me on my drive back home.”
He lights up, grinning widely. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“When are you planning on leaving?”
“Monday.”
In two days. Perfect.
“This is gonna be so fun. Just you wait.”
“I don’t doubt it. Fun seems to always follow you wherever you go.”
He has to let her go, since she has some last things to do as the wedding planner. He kisses her cheek quickly before he leaves the reception, to which Quinn raises an eyebrow at but doesn’t say anything. The next morning, during the quick and informal thank you breakfast for the bridal party at a nearby, fancy-ish brunch place, Jack throws him under the bus (“Saw you getting pretty comfortable with Isabelle yesterday,”) and he reveals their plan for the next day. 
It might be one of the most TV show worthy reactions from every single person, bridesmaid and groomsmen. Luke chokes on his mimosa, Quinn shakes his head, Alex blinks, Nico has a shit-eating grin on his face, Jack smirks and Cole lets out a bark of laughter. The girls have all been filled in and equally have similar reactions. Amelie immediately says “you’re joking,” Michelle, at the same time as Amelie, says “ain’t no way,” Kaia, like Alex, just blinks. Nicole and Sarah’s jaws drop wide open, Annemarie starts cackling and Isla drops her fork. 
“What?” Trevor responds, munching on his bacon. “Why all the reactions?”
“Z, are you sure about this?” Quinn asks, ever the voice of reason.
“Yes? It’s just a drive. Everyone needs a car buddy for that long of a drive. Gives me an excuse to go home too.”
“Trevor,” Amelie starts. “I think we’re all just a bit confused because this is…not that we don’t like Isabelle! She’s wonderful. But this just seems out of the blue.”
Jack snorts. “There’s nothing confusing about this at all.” Everyone, Trevor included, turns to look at the new groom, who just shrugs while taking a sip of his coffee. “He likes her.”
“For real?”
“Oh my.”
“Okay, Z! Atta boy.”
“Haven’t you not seen her for like, 10 years?”
“Have you liked her this whole time?”
“That’s crazy.”
“Woah, woah, woah.” Trevor says above everyone’s exclamations. He waits until everyone’s settled. “I don’t like her. Not like that, at least. She’s just…I don’t know. It was good to see her again after so long. It felt like going back to old times. Simpler times.”
“It’s giving childhood friends to lovers,” Michelle says, making everyone laugh. Trevor rolls his eyes again and the subject is dropped. 
Jack volunteers to drive Trevor to Belle’s before him and Amelie’s flight to Greece tonight for their honeymoon. He doesn’t leave Quinn and Jack’s place without chirps from every single person still there, gathering their things and cleaning up. He makes sure to leave with giving Amelie a tight hug and a fond kiss on her cheek before playfully glaring at everyone else as he leaves.
He climbs into the passenger seat. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”
“We’ve known each other since we were 16, Z.” Jack says, starting the car. “Nothing you do fazes me anymore.”
Trevor just hums, staring at one of his dearest friends who is now a husband. “Congrats, Jacky. I know I’ve said it a lot recently, but I’m really happy for you.”
A small smile spreads across Jack’s face, as he automatically goes to touch his wedding ring. “Thanks, man.” Silence falls between them. “Did you ever, even just the slightest, like Isabelle as more than a friend? And be honest with me.”
“No,” Trevor replies honestly. “I always knew she was kind and thoughtful, but she was always just Connor’s little sister and kept to herself and her own friends most of the time.”
“And now? Do you like her now?”
“I don’t know,” Trevor replies honestly. If Jack is shocked, he doesn’t show it. Trevor clears his throat, “We haven’t seen each other in over 10 years. I don’t know her enough anymore to know if I like her.”
Jack just hums. “Look, I…”
“You what?” Silence. “Jack.”
“Amelie and I got pretty close with Isabelle beyond her being our wedding planner. Maybe it’s because she’s close to our age or just easy to get along with. I think…she never told us directly, but I think something happened, Z.”
“What do you mean something happened?”
“Well, I wasn’t there, but her and Amelie went out for casual drinks once to plan some stuff out and Amelie was, you know, casually asking her about relationships and if she ever dreamed of her own wedding, and she got super…not defensive. But Amelie said it was like a switch turned on. All she said is that at some point she did, but she’s not at that point of her life anymore, and then she immediately changed the topic. It’s none of my business, I get that, but she’s also my friend, Z. Just…look out for her, okay?”
“Of course I will,” Trevor promises as Jack slows down in front of Belle’s house. They both climb out of the car and Trevor grabs his backpack, duffle and garment bag from the backseat.
“Thanks for driving.” Trevor embraces his friend in a tight hug.
“Anytime,” Jack says. “Thanks for everything this last week. And just in general. I love you.”
“Love you too, man. Have fun on your honeymoon.”
Jack smiles. “Thank you. You two drive safe, eh? Let Amelie and I know when you're back in New York.”
Trevor just nods, before walking up to the front door and knocking. Within seconds, Belle opens the door with a wide smile. She looks beyond Trevor’s shoulder and waves at Jack as he drives away.
“Hi!”
Trevor can’t help but smile at her energy. It’s infectious. “Hey, Belle. Are you sure you don’t mind letting me crash for the night? I can always get Quinn to come get me later.”
She opens the door wider to let him in. “It’s not a bother at all. As long as you’re good with sleeping on the floor.” He just waves her off, setting his duffle and backpack down and looking around at the barren household. “I would give you a tour, but there’s really not much to see anymore.”
“You need any help?”
She smiles at him sweetly. “I have some boxes in the garage that you could help me move?”
He’s eager to help, until he lifts the first box, grunting about how heavy it is. Belle just chuckles, because why else had she not moved these in her car yet? If she has a professional hockey player volunteering to help her move, then she might as well put him to use, right? Trevor just rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but let a smile peek through at hearing Belle’s giggles. Once the car is packed (it takes longer than usual, as they stand out in the driveway and in the garage inbetween moving, chirping at each other and catching up), they realize it’s getting close to dinner time especially if they want to get an early start in the morning. Trevor asks what she wants to have (“as your last night living in the state of Michigan”) and she lights up, dialing up the place of her favorite Asian fusion takeout place. Trevor tries to hand over his card but she smacks it out of his hand, glaring at him while still on the phone. 
It’s a nice day outside, so they decide to venture out and have dinner on the front porch that she’s going to miss very much, leaning their backs against the panels of the house, sitting a comfortable 4 feet apart, Trevor’s knees pulled up and Belle with her legs outstretched and ankles crossed. He watches as she looks out at the sunset painting the quiet residential street, which is even more stunning than usual. If you listen closely, you can hear the sounds of kids gleefully screaming and dogs barking here and there. For a moment, Trevor feels like he’s intruding as Belle continues staring out, lost in her own world. Her focus only shifts a few minutes later when a car rolls up with their take out, as she jumps up and accepts the food with a gracious smile.
He helps her open boxes and suddenly there’s a generous spread of food between them as they start eating.
Trevor breaks the silence. “You never told me why.”
“Why what?”
“Why you’re leaving Michigan.”
She’s in the middle of stuffing a crab rangoon in her mouth. She chews and swallows for a couple of seconds. “It’s a long story.”
“I have nothing but time if you want to share.”
“I lied. It’s not really a long story. Just a sad one. That’s just my go-to when people ask.”
“You don’t have to lie to me. Ever. But you also don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
She lets out a deep sigh. “I was supposed to get married earlier this year.”
He blinks. Once. twice. And he’s speechless for once in his life. She barrels on. 
“Nate and I…I met him at UMich my junior year. I had full plans to leave Michigan right after college. Not that I don’t love it here, but I just wanted to go home. But he got an offer here after graduation and I found a gig working for a great wedding planner so I stayed. And it was good. The brief stint in Santa Ana I mentioned was because of his job, so we moved out there. But I really didn’t mind. I actually really enjoyed California.” She picks at her fingernails, “He proposed to me the beginning of last year, a week before we were gonna move back to Michigan. And I was happy. Really happy. So many years I had been planning other people’s weddings and I was finally going to have my own with someone I loved.”
“Belle, you don’t have to-”
She waves him off. “The day of our cake tasting, we were running late and he was in the shower and I grabbed his phone to put in my bag. And there was a text that flashed on my lock screen. ‘Missed you, baby. See you tonight’ and that was it. He had been cheating on me for almost a year. I moved out that night and crashed with a friend for a few weeks before finding this place. Grabbed my shit when I knew he was gone during the day at work. Canceled all of the deposits. Gave the ring back.” She chuckles, albeit sadly. “Funny. The week after I found out, I had my first consultation with Amelie and Jack and honestly, throwing myself into their wedding planning may have saved me, not that they know that. Anyways, yeah. That’s why I’m leaving Michigan. I honestly would’ve done it sooner but I had to stick it out for those two. They deserved it.”
Trevor’s silent for a couple more moments. “Promise me something.”
“What?”
“If we see him out and about, point him out so I can kick his ass.”
Her chuckle comes out broken but genuine. “Connor was real close when I told him. I was afraid he’d just start driving here. So you’d have to get behind him in line.”
“Gladly,” he scoots closer to her and offers an arm. She collapses into his side. “God, Belle. I’m so sorry. No one deserves that, least of all you.”
She sniffles. “It’s okay.”
“No, Belle. It’s not okay. What an asshole.” He can feel tears on his shirt and he starts rubbing her back in soothing circles. “You deserve someone to love you just as much as you love them. Someone to put you above all, who views your love and presence as a privilege. Because it is a privilege. I would know.”
She snorts, still sniffling. “You made fun of me all the time when we were younger.”
“Nah ah ah. Connor did. I didn’t. And that doesn’t mean I didn’t know how lovely you were even back then. Why do you think Connor and I were so against you going on a date with that guy…what was his name?”
“Trent.”
“Yeah. Trent. First of all, just sounds like a douchebag.”
“And Trevor is so much better?”
“Second, because he was an ass. We didn’t terrorize you about it just because. We terrorized you about it because we knew he had cheated on his ex-girlfriend.”
“Maybe if you had ever met Nate, you could’ve sniffed out his bullshit right away. Took me around 6 years to figure it out.”
“You’ve always had good judgment, Belle. No need to blame yourself when you did nothing wrong.”
“Did I though?” She whispers. “Do nothing wrong, I mean. What if-what if I was working too much or I wasn’t attentive enough or I didn’t-”
Trevor shakes his head adamantly. “Belle, no. Stop. Absolutely not. You did enough. You were enough. I’m not gonna sit here and let you pick apart yourself unfairly. You stayed in Michigan for him. You moved to Santa Ana for him. You gave all you had. And he’s the one who fucked it all up. That’s not on you.”
She signs, a bit defeated but musters a small smile. “Thanks, Trevor.”
“Of course.” He stuffs a piece of sushi in his mouth.
She shoots him a small smile that has him swallowing roughly. “Nonetheless, I’m really happy we ran into each other. It’s been nice to have a slice of home back in my life again.”
Trevor just smiles, staring into her warm eyes. “Me too.”
…..
It’s hour two into the 10 hour drive when she breeches the subject again. 
“Connor never liked him.” Trevor turns to look at Belle, who has one hand on the wheel casually. He automatically turns the music down as she continues. “He tried to get along with him, for my sake. But Connor was never sold. I always thought it was just him being a protective older brother. When I asked why, he always just gave some vague answer. Didn’t like his vibe, or whatever. It’s been hard not to agonize over now. If I should’ve just listened to him from the start.” Trevor doesn’t know what to say, but just faces her fully so she knows that he’s listening. She lets out a heavy breath as she puts her sunglasses atop her head. “I never asked. How’s your love life?”
Trevor snorts and the playfulness is back in the air again. “Well, not married like Connor is. I’ve had a couple things here or there. Clearly nothing that’s stuck.”
“Any particular reason why?”
He shrugs, suddenly feeling a bit small even though he knows that’s not her intention whatsoever. “I think when people date me, they don’t necessarily want all of me, you know? They want the jokester and the charmer. They don’t want the shifts in mood or the obsession of figuring out why I’m in a scoring drought or the insecurities.”
Belle hums sympathetically. “I think you just haven’t found the right one yet.”
“You sound like Quinn.”
She laughs. “From the small amount of interactions I’ve had with him, I’d say that sounds pretty on brand.” She shrugs. “You have time though. We all do. If that’s something you even want.”
“What? Marriage?”
“Yeah.”
“I do, I think. Want that, I mean. It’s just…hard. And scary. The thought of giving someone all of you? That’s giving them a lot of power.”
“I get it,” she says. “God, I really get that.”
“Is marriage not something you want anymore?”
She sighs. “I don’t know. I think I still do. It’s just…it’s still too soon, you know? And I don’t know if I have the energy to, like you said, give someone all of me again. I got hurt once. I don’t know if I can afford that again.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re one of the best people I’ve ever known. So anybody would be lucky to love you.”
And shit, that kinda slipped out. His heart starts racing as she looks at him briefly in surprise. “That’s…that’s very kind of you, Trevor. Probably too big of a compliment.”
“Not too big of a compliment,” he automatically responds, digging himself into a deeper hole that he can’t even decipher. If he thinks about it too hard, he would realize that this is the most open he’s been with someone outside of his tight circle in awhile. And a week ago, she hadn’t even crossed his mind.
“You know, you were my favorite out of Connor’s friends back then.” 
A pang of satisfaction touches his heart and he’s grinning. “Yeah?”
Belle rolls her eyes at his slight smugness. “Don’t let that get to your head.”
“Too late.”
“I don’t know. I just..liked how friendly you were to everyone you encountered. I don’t think there was ever a time when you came over and didn’t strike up a conversation with me. Even though I was quiet and shy, you still always treated me like a person.”
“I feel like that’s the bare minimum, no?”
She shrugs. “Now that we’re in our late twenties, sure. But back when we were 12, 13 years old? You’d be surprised.” 
He watches her drum her fingers against the steering wheel, the patterned bandana in her ponytail swinging with the wind, wispies from her ponytail framing her face. If he looks hard enough, he can see 10 year old Belle sitting on the sofa in the Holloway’s living room, a sketchbook on her lap and a glass of apple juice next to her. If he listens hard enough, he can hear her humming to ‘Love Story’ as he leaves Connor’s room to walk past her room in the hallway to the bathroom. Maybe he can even smell her vanilla body spray that used to always filter out of her room if he breathes in deeply enough. 
All he can see and hear and feel is his childhood self. Looking at her makes him feel blissfully young, a bit naive and incredibly out of his depth. 
She casts him a casual glance. “You good?”
Trevor grins easily. “Never better.” 
It’s hour five after stopping for lunch. Trevor’s behind the wheel now and her legs are up on the seat with her as she stares out the window, her chin on her knees. He has an urge to put a hand on her knee. To comfort her or to let her know that he’s there, he doesn’t know. But he refrains. 
“Belle?”
“Hm?” 
“Can I ask you a question?”
She turns to face him, chin still on her knees. “Should I be nervous?”
He snorts. “No. I’m just a dumb hockey player. What could I possibly say that would catch you off guard?”
“You’re not dumb. And plenty. You knew me when I was 13 and in my awkward phase. That’s longer than most of the people I’ve seen in the last five years. What’s your question?”
Okay, Trevor can dissect all of that later. ““Are you going to miss Michigan?”
She lets out a thoughtful hum. “I’ll miss parts of it. I loved going to college at Michigan, made a lot of friends from college and work. And I grew up a lot here. Not to mention, Michigan’s almost unfairly beautiful. I’ll also weirdly miss my porch a lot. But also, it’s tough driving around with thoughts of Nate at every corner. Because he’s present in practically all the memories I have here. So I’m glad I’m leaving because I know I need to.” He turns to her quickly and sees her lip quiver. Almost as if he had imagined it, she offers a small smirk. “That’s the question you were so afraid to ask me?”
He sputters out a laugh. “What does that mean?” He asks defensively. 
She shakes out her hair to redo her ponytail. "You never had a problem asking anything to anyone back in the day.”
“Things change.”
She pauses for a split second before tying up her hair and looking at him. “They do. I’m sorry for assuming they don’t.”
Hour eight and they’ve been in a comfortable silence for a bit now. One can only talk for so long, even someone as chatty as Trevor. Belle’s behind the wheel again and her phone is plugged in playing music. The playlist he had put on initially has cycled through and without asking, he plugged her phone in and shuffled a random playlist of hers.
He vaguely recognizes Taylor Swift’s voice and looks to see what song it is. ‘The Archer.’ His ears perk up as he listens to her softly sing along, and then, he’s actually listening to the words. 
Belle’s eyebrows are pinched together as she sings about people seeing right through her and how all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put her together again. He wants to offer her a hand to squeeze, a touch for support, but he doesn’t. 
He clears his throat. “So. Santa Ana. What was your favorite part?”
She automatically grins. “All of it? I don’t know. I liked my job. I liked the area. I liked the weather. It felt like a breath of fresh air, in a way.”
“Would you consider moving back?”
“Maybe. I honestly haven’t really thought of anything but leaving Michigan recently.”
He stops asking her questions. He doesn’t want to keep bringing up the pain. 
By the time she rolls into the driveway of Trevor’s childhood home, it’s almost 8 pm. Almost as soon as she kills the engine, the front door opens, revealing both his parents. Julie runs out, only barely letting Belle step out of the car before throwing her arms around her. He smiles fondly as his mother puts her hands on Belle’s cheeks as the younger woman chuckles, before turning to Gary and giving him a quick hug as well. Trevor drags his stuff out of the trunk and shuts it, smiling to himself as he listens to his mother invite Belle and her parents over for dinner the next night and watching Belle nod enthusiastically. 
She then turns to him and it feels like someone has reached into his heart and punched it. She smiles. “Thanks for the company.”
He puts down his duffle and scoops her into a tight hug, only letting her go after giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Anytime. See you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow.”
(And if he catches his mom giving him an inquisitive look as they all watch Belle back out of the driveway, he doesn’t say anything)
Tomorrow comes and Trevor’s content with mostly being lazy, adjusting to being home and around his parents. It feels weird to be in these walls without Griffin and Ava, but then again, he’s sure it’s one-sided. He moved away when he was so young, leaving behind his supportive parents and his even-more-supportive siblings. They got used to Trevor not being around. 
He’s recapping Jack’s wedding to his father on the patio while his mom is preparing pies in preparation for the Holloways, the mouthwatering smell filtering through the screen door. He smiles as he recalls the week leading up when he went early and was roped into helping out, how beautiful Amelie looked and how he had never seen Jack that excited and happy before, not when he was drafted first overall, not when he won the Eastern Conference Final. He talks about how their vows made Trevor tear up and just how fun it was to celebrate two people he loves. He talks about reconnecting with Belle and briefly brushes over their drive back. He gives vague answers when his parents — mostly his mom — try to pry more, partially because it’s so much that he’s still trying to decipher it himself and partially because some of it isn’t his place to tell. 
An hour later, he can’t help but beam as Belle’s parents greet him similarly to how his greeted Belle the day before. He helps Susan bring in the pasta salad and shakes Kurt’s hand, his slight nerves settling as the first thing Kurt says is how proud of Trevor he is. Belle is the last one who walks through the door, listening to the moms talking animatedly in her ear. She’s wearing a pink floral maxi dress with a denim jacket over her shoulders and she’s glowing. He itches to give her a hug but just settles for a grin instead before turning his full attention to Kurt. 
It’s when the parents are filtering outside does he get a chance to say hello to her as they both hang back in the kitchen. She bumps her hip with his. “Long time no see.”
He pulls her into a side hug. “Hilarious. Want anything to drink before heading out there?”
She eyes the few bottles of wine in the mini wine cabinet. “White wine if it’s not too much of a hassle?”
He opens the fridge and grabs a wine glass. “My mom put a bottle in the fridge earlier. It’s her favorite, so if it’s bad, it’s not my fault.” She takes the glass from him graciously and he grabs a bottle of beer for himself as they both head outside. 
“It’s weird being here without Connor.”
“I was just thinking earlier how it’s weird being here without Griffin and Ava.”
“At least we have each other, right?”
He hums. “Good thing.” She then gets roped into a conversation with his father and he happily takes a backseat, answering when a question is directed towards him but perfectly content in watching her. 
(Julie and Susan, who had never really considered these two as a pair, nudge each other and exchange a few words, watching as Belle laughs while sipping her wine and Trevor just stares at her.
“She was supposed to get married last year. To a guy she met in college.”
Julie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is that right?”
“Yup. Until she caught him cheating.”
Julie sighs. “I wish we could protect our kids from everything that could hurt them.”
“I do too.” Susan watches her daughter wistfully and lovingly. “She’s always thrown herself into work, But especially after the break-up. You have no idea how relieved I was when she told me she was coming home.”
“Does she know where she’s going next?”
“Not that I know of. For the first time in her life, she doesn’t know.”
“She’ll be okay,” Julie says confidently, rubbing her old friend’s shoulder. “I’ve never had any doubt about Belle.”
“But you had doubt in the others?” Susan teases as Julie snorts. “All our kids are doing well for themselves, but you have one who is the definition of achieving their childhood dream.”
Julie sighs thoughtfully, looking at Trevor. “He’s done well for himself, I think.”
“You think?”
Julie just smiles, clinking her glass against Susan’s.)
Meat is grilled, salads are tossed and food is eaten as the sun fades away. Sometime between sunset and when the sky becomes black, the fireplace is lit and the outdoor lamps are turned on. Trevor switched to water after his second beer, liver still trying to recover from the wedding festivities. 
Trevor finds Belle sitting by the edge of the pool with her feet dipped in, sandals to the side of her. Her hands are folded on her lap as she stares down, occasionally kicking her feet a bit to make the water ripple. He clears his throat so he doesn’t startle her. She looks up and her lips quirk up at seeing him, but they soon fall, as she turns back to the water and tilts her head to the side, taking a deep breath. 
Trevor licks his dry lips. “Come with me?”
“Where are we going?” She asks, accepting the hand he offers as she gets up and slips on her shoes, adjusting her dress. 
“You’ll see. We won’t be long.” Wordlessly, they go around the side of the house to go to the driveway. He catches his mom’s eye and just offers a small smile. Julie’s eyes flicker between him and Belle before she nods. Belle doesn’t say anything as Julie tosses her son the keys to her car, letting Trevor lightly tug her along by loosely intertwining their hands. He opens the passenger door for her and she gives him a grateful look as she slips in. 
He hasn’t been to his intended destination in at least five years, but he knows the route all the same, easily driving the seven minutes. He sneaks a glance or two at Belle as the minimal streetlights light her face aglow for a few seconds at a time. Before he overthinks it, he reaches out and grabs her hand gently, waiting for her to pull away. She doesn’t, instead lacing her hand with his and squeezing once. 
“I haven’t been here since I was in high school,” Belle says as Trevor kills the engine, the tranquility of the small lake and lookout everyone who grew up in Bedford called “Pink Sun” due to the incredibly beautiful sunsets one could see if they were lucky, no one knowing that it’s actual government name was. He’s almost confident that this specific lookout is private property, due to the string lights adorning the trees meticulously that seem to always be on, but whoever owns the property clearly doesn’t care. He would come in the summers from time to time with friends like Connor after he moved away for hockey, but he knows he didn’t experience it the same way as others did.
“Which tree did you have sex under?” Trevor asks as they get out of the car and open the trunk. He quickly fluffs up the two pillows his mom has in the car at all times and pulls the blanket over them both as they get comfortable.
She chuckles and Trevor immediately smiles at the sound. “Gross.”
“What? Isn’t that what people did?” She just lightly slaps him before they both fall into a comfortable silence again. She takes her hand from under the blanket and reaches out to find Trevor’s. He offers his hand immediately. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. 
She starts sniffling, and when he turns to her, concerned, he sees tears rushing down her face. He immediately wraps his arms around her and maneuvers her so that she’s crying into his chest. He tries to be steady for her shaking body, rubbing her back and muttering sweet nothings to assure that he’s here and she’s not alone. He places a couple of kisses on top of her head without thinking because there’s a split down the middle of his heart that’s widening everytime she whimpers.
She cries. The water ripples. Trevor holds her close. 
…..
The entire time Trevor’s back home, he doesn’t go more than a day without seeing Belle. They get ice cream, sitting in the chairs that haven’t been replaced in at least 30 years and giggling as the ice cream drips over their fingers. They go back to Pink Sun to watch the sunset. Because this whole month has him feeling nostalgic, he goes back to his old rink in Stamford and she tags along, indulging him as he pulls up his hoodie over himself as they watch the last 15 minutes of a game the AAA team that Trevor used to be a part of is playing in. Some of the front office staff is still the same and they all immediately beam when seeing Trevor. He chokes up a bit when talking to some of them. He’s missed it here more than he thought he would. 
After training sessions, he just shows up to her house without any warning. They take a lot of drives, passing by landmarks they know well and ones they don’t know at all. They spend hours chatting on the porch of her parents’ place, waving at neighbors as they walk by and petting their dogs. She doesn’t cry in his chest again, but there are stretches of silence where she craves a comforting shoulder. Trevor doesn’t hesitate to offer his. 
He learns more about why she enjoys wedding planning and her time in Michigan. She learns more about how his goals have changed the longer he’s been in the league and his time in Anaheim. They both talk about times they feel like they’ve had their heart ripped to pieces and he finds himself admitting things he’s never admitted out loud to anyone — not Jamie, not Jack, not Cole, not Alex. 
He wonders to himself how he’s lived this long without her in his life. 
The day Trevor has to leave for Anaheim, she offers to drive him to LaGuardia, smiling as he hugs his parents goodbye in the driveway, promising to see them soon when the Ducks are playing in New York. 
She shuts the trunk at the departures drop-off area with a wistful smile. “I’ll miss you, Trev.”
“I’m gonna miss you too.” And then he practically manhandles her into a tight hug, his chin resting on her shoulder, rubbing her back before pulling away. “If you ever wanna come out to Anaheim, there’s always a place for you to stay.”
“I’ll think about it.” With most people, it’s an empty promise. But with Belle, he knows she means it. “Good luck this season. Score some goals, yeah?”
He rolls his eyes, arms still around her waist. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? You have my number. Use it.”
She nods, tilting her head to the side. “Okay.” She presses a kiss on his cheek before he forces himself to let go. She sticks her hands in her jean pockets. “Text me when you land?”
“Of course. Bye, Belle. I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye. Travel safe.”
Trevor forces himself not to look back as he walks through the automatic doors. 
…..
The first roadie of the season includes a stop in Chicago, and Trevor doesn’t hesitate to text Connor. He feels the familiar pang in his heart again, guilty that he hasn’t reached out until now. But when he and Connor meet up for a quick coffee the morning of the game, it washes away quickly. They fall right back to where they were when they were 16, even though they’re both over a decade older and a bit wiser now. Trevor practically shoves two tickets for the game for him and his wife, even though Connor is trying to bat his hand away. 
After the game, the three of them go to dinner and he gets introduced to Ashley, Connor’s wife, who is peppy and fun and he loves seeing her and Connor together. After dinner, Ashley excuses herself to go home as the two of them migrate to a nearby pub. They have years to catch up on. 
“Belle tell you about the break-up?”
Trevor scoffs, taking a hefty sip of his beer. “Yeah. Fucking asshole.”
“Took the words right out of my mouth. When she decided to get the fuck out of Michigan, I was relieved.”
“Yeah?”
Connor sighs. “Yeah. I know she says she stayed because of the Hughes wedding, but I also think it’s because she had a hard time letting go. Which, you know, who can blame her, right?” Trevor just nods sympathetically. Connor leans back, eyes flickering elsewhere for a moment. “Thanks, by the way.”
“What for, man?”
“For looking out for her.” There’s a hint of relief in Connor’s tone. “She’s always been independent, I’m sure you remember. And she has a hard time letting people know that she’s struggling, even if we all see it and want to help. Whatever you did, thank you, man. It’s appreciated.”
Trevor bites his tongue. He wants to say that he doesn’t have to thank him for being a good friend, but Connor is adamant. So Trevor just smiles.
…..
The season’s in full swing, but Trevor makes the effort to keep in contact with Belle frequently. Whether it’s sending a meme or calling on his way to practice, Belle becomes a part of his daily life. 
A month in Bedford now and he can tell she’s getting a bit restless. She’s taken up crocheting, which Trevor loves to make fun of her for. Until he finds a little box on his doorstep and opens it to find a crocheted Wild Wing. He hands it on his rearview mirror in the car. He doesn’t fully realize she’s watching his games until he sees a text from her after a game against New Jersey (“Don’t let Jack hang the win over your head too much. That slapshot was insane.”) and that has him grinning much too widely for someone who just lost.
On Thanksgiving Day, after one of the guys’ families hosts a Friendsgiving for the whole team, he’s back at his place on the couch when she calls him. 
Her face comes up on the screen and he has to smile. “Oh. Hey.” she says gently. “I didn’t actually expect an answer.”
“You just caught me. I just got home from Friendsgiving with the team. Happy Thanksgiving, by the way.”
“Happy Thanksgiving.”
He doesn’t recognize her background. “Where you at?”
“My aunt’s. They’re all watching the game in the basement so I decided to take a break up in the living room.”
“Good food?”
“I’m fucking stuffed,” she admits, making Trevor laugh. “I’m not bad in the kitchen, but nothing beats a good homemade turkey and stuffing.”
“I feel you. So what’s been happening? Haven’t called in a bit.”
“It’s been, like, a week, Trev.”
“Exactly. A bit.”
She rolls her eyes, before leaning back further into the couch. “Actually, I do have news. Kinda.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I, uh, heard back from two people about a job. My old boss from Santa Ana said there’s a spot open for me if I want it. And then my boss in Michigan recommended me to someone in Manhattan, and she called me yesterday and also said I had a job if I wanted it.”
He grins. “Belle. That’s amazing! Congratulations. I’m not surprised though. I know firsthand how damn good you are at your job.”
He sees her blush slightly and he thinks it’s adorable. She twirls her hair around her finger. “Thanks. I’m, yeah. It’s pretty exciting. I’m excited to get back into it again.”
“So. California and New York. Those are two pretty different places.”
She sighs. “Yeah. That’s partially why I called you. Kinda want to get another opinion.”
Before he can stop himself, he snorts. “You’re telling me you haven’t made a pros and cons list already? Don’t think I don’t remember you forcing me to make one when I was deciding if I should go to Avon.”
She tilts her head to the side. “You remember that?”
“There’s not a lot of memories I have from growing up here that don’t have you in them. Of course I remember.”
She bites her lip but Trevor can see the smile peeking through. She clears her throat. “I do. Have a list.”
“So you’ve already made your decision.”
She opens her mouth. Then closes it. “Yes and no. I really do want your opinion, Trevor.”
“Floor’s all yours.”
“I love New York, but I don’t know if I can stay here. If I go back to Santa Ana, is it going to be like Michigan again? I don’t know what Santa Ana is like without Nate.”
“No,” he responds immediately. “It won’t be.”
“How are you so sure?”
“Because Santa Ana is yours, Belle. No one else’s. You said it yourself. You loved your time there. If Michigan doesn’t feel like home anymore and New York feels too much like your past self, California is waiting for you.”
A couple seconds of silence before a small chuckle erupts from Belle. “You take a creative writing class at BU or something? That was actually eloquent.”
If he were next to her, he’d shove her off the couch. He just huffs as she keeps laughing. “My point is, is that you can make fresh starts in familiar areas. Plus, not that I have anything to do with this, but Santa Ana is pretty damn close to Anaheim.”
“Knew you’d say that.”
“I mean, can you blame me? ” He leans back on the couch. “I don’t think you’re incapable of moving on. I think, in a way, you aren’t ready to, and that’s why Santa Ana scares you. You have to and are inevitably going to make new memories wherever you are, but you just have to do it. Take the leap. Dive in the deep end. Whatever the fuck they say.”
And well, that came out a bit harsher than Trevor intended, if the slight flinch on Belle’s face is an indication. But she sighs, “You’re right. I know you’re right. Fuck, Trev. Maybe I shouldn’t have quit and stayed in Michigan.”
“Stop,” he says. “We’re not doing that. Now you have to come out to California. Who else is gonna tell you to get your head out of your ass?” His goal is achieved as she laughs. “Seriously though. Whatever choice you make, you have my full support.”
Four days later, he sees that Belle left him a voicemail in the middle of the game. She’s coming to Santa Ana. Trevor starts organizing the guest room.
…..
Three days into the new year and Trevor finds himself running out of morning skate to drive to LAX. Belle’s staying with him while she looks for her own place, at Trevor’s insistence. He told her she can stay as long as she needs. He hopes she takes that offer seriously. 
He rolls up to the arrivals terminal and idles his car, seeing a text from Belle indicating that she’s still waiting to pick up her luggage. He leans back in his seat, taking a deep breath adjusting the baseball cap on his head, bopping along to the latest playlist that he made for this season.
He’s about to do a drum solo on his steering wheel when he spots Belle come out of the double doors, rolling two suitcases, backpack on her back and a tired but genuine smile on her face. He immediately leaps out of the car, running to lift her up in a hug, making her chuckle. 
“Hey Trevor.”
He kisses her cheek before putting her down. “Belle of the Ball. How was your flight?”
“Good. Long,” she reaches to get her suitcases and he waves her off, lifting her suitcases easily into his trunk as she slips into the passenger seat. She sags into the seat and turns to him with a bigger smile as he turns on the engine. “It’s really good to see you.”
He reaches to ruffle her hair to ignore the funny feeling in his stomach. “Missed you too.”
They catch each other up on what’s been happening since the last time they talked, so only really the last week. Once he turns off the highway, he opens the windows and he periodically glances at Belle, who’s leaning her head on the seatbelt strap as the houses blur by. She tucks her hair behind both her ears and Trevor feels his throat start to close up. 
“Hungry?”
“A bit.”
“Enough to wait a bit so I can cook something up?”
She looks toward him in subdued delight. “You cook?”
“Decently, I’d say.”
“What are you gonna make me?”
Whatever you want, he thinks. “I make a pretty good steak.”
“Well, I’m not gonna say no to a personal chef.”
“Don’t get used to it,” he points at her jokingly. She laughs, but honestly, Trevor doesn’t hate the idea. 
Belle’s car got shipped yesterday to Trevor’s place the week prior, so two days later, when Belle starts work and Trevor has to go to morning skate, they leave the house at the same time after cups of coffee and climb into their own cars, Belle wearing a red sleeveless blouse and white jeans and Trevor wearing a Duck t-shirt and shorts. 
Before she can fully get into her car, Trevor runs around and squeezes her, making her squeal. “Good luck today. You’re gonna kill it.”
“Thanks Trevor. Have fun at morning skate.”
“Are you still cool with a couple of the guys coming over for dinner?”
“It’s your house, dude. You can invite over whoever you want.”
“It’s also your home too,” Trevor insists.
She rolls her eyes fondly. “It’s not. But of course you can have your friends over. I’m excited to meet them.” She gets in her car, but before she shuts the door, she puts her head out. “Do you mind grabbing some orange juice? I think you’re running out and I drink more of it than you do. Just Venmo request me.”
“Yeah, I gotcha. Won’t Venmo request you though,” she opens her mouth to protest but he just taps the roof of her car twice. “We can talk about splitting stuff later. Bye now!”
“Dick,” she mutters as she shuts her door. He chuckles. He lets her back out of the driveway first.
That night, Mason, Jamie and Leo come over and the four of them are finishing up cooking dinner when Belle walks in. A bit flushed and sweaty, she’s nothing but smiles as she slips off her shoes, putting down her bag and introducing herself. She hugs each of them with a sweet smile before finally reaching Trevor. She hugs him like she did with the other three, but he thinks she holds on a bit longer. He smacks a friendly kiss on her cheek, but he catches Jamie’s eye as she pulls away and he knows he’s going to absolutely be grilled about this tomorrow. 
Dinner’s practically ready and the guys just shoo Belle away to the dining table, Leo pouring out a glass of wine for her. They chat and swap stories over chicken alfredo and salad, and Trevor’s content sitting back and watching two different parts of his life come together, not even jumping in to defend himself that much when she recalls some shenanigans from Jack’s wedding. Sure, they at least know of Jack, Alex, Cole and other various members of the NTDP crew who knew him when he was 17 and stupid, but Belle’s known him since they were children. Whether she — or Trevor even — realizes it or not, Belle and Trevor know each other in the purest way. The way only childhood allows, where filters of judgment, insecurities and expectations cease to exist. 
Even with almost two decades lost in translation, Trevor thinks, in a way, Belle might know him better than most. And he might know her better than most.
Which is why he can sense that an hour after dinner, that Belle is exhausted, so he takes the initiative and the guys immediately pick up on it, bidding Belle goodbye and making her promise that she’ll come to a game soon. Once the door shuts, Trevor goes to start washing the dishes, batting her hand away when she tries to help. 
“Trevor. You cooked. I’ll clean.”
“Nope. Go to take a shower. You’ve had a long day.”
“You have too.”
He waves her off. “Go. I got this.” Her shoulders sag in defeat, but she shoots him a thankful smile and heads to shower. 
He’s just about finishing up the dishes and wiping down the counter when she walks back in, an old Michigan t-shirt and flannel pants on. She has her book in her hands but comes by next to him. “Are you sure you don’t need help cleaning up?”
He puts the kitchen towel back on the hook and swings an arm around her shoulder, bringing her against his side. “I’m sure. Where you unwinding for the night?”
“Probably the living room, if you don’t mind?”
“Belle. My home is your home. I mean it. I’ll probably join you after I shower.”
And he does, coming back in afterwards with only the living room light being on. He sees Belle curled up on the couch, engrossed in her book as one of the candles he rarely uses is lit up on the table in front of her. The air smells faintly of pine. 
“Do you mind if I put on some football? I’ll put the volume low.”
She hums. “Not at all.” With her feet in his lap, blanket tucked over both of them, Trevor thinks that he could get used to this. 
…..
Two weeks later, they’re finishing up their takeout when Belle clears her throat. “So I found a place that seems promising.”
Trevor stiffens. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s about 10 minutes from here. Just renting for now, which isn’t ideal. But it’s so soon, you know? I don’t wanna buy yet.”
Trevor understands the latter part, absolutely. But he’s still stuck on the first part of what she said. “When would you think of moving out?”
“At the start of the month.”
“That’s next week.”
She grimaces, washing their utensils. “Yeah. I just…I want to get out of your hair as soon as possible.”
“Belle,” his voice lowers into a serious tone that doesn’t come out of him that often. It works, because it gets Belle to look at him. “If you want to move out, I can’t stop you. It’s ultimately your decision. But I love having you here. So please don’t…don’t think you have to move out to get out of my hair. Because you don’t. I’d love for you to stay and live with me. Full time.”
Belle swallows, searching for something in his face. “You mean that?” She whispers. 
“Of course I do.” He pushes on. “And you know I’m a shitty liar.”
She chuckles as she finishes washing the dishes. On her way to the bathroom, she stops and just hugs Trevor. He welcomes it with a big smile. “You 100% sure?”
“Yes.”
She pulls away with a smile. “Okay. Your porch is better anyways.” 
Trevor laughs, his mind briefly flashing to an image of this place that had been only his for so long one day becoming theirs, with her throw pillows on the couch and fairy lights on the porch and photos of their friends and loved ones hanging on the walls, some they share, some they don’t.
…..
Trevor fully admits it to himself when Christmas rolls up and Belle refuses to go back to New York. 
(“There’s no way I’m leaving you alone for Christmas, Trev,” she insists with an eye roll. “We’ll start our own tradition here. It’ll be great.”)
He doesn’t even try to hide his fondness as he watches Belle teetering at the edge of a chair to hang up lights around their living room. Some random Christmas playlist he had queued up at Belle’s prodding is playing through his speaker, and he doesn’t think “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” deserves the grin plastered on his face. 
Belle, though. She might deserve it. Be the origin of it, really. 
They make too many cookies that they'll have to gift his teammates and her coworkers just so they don’t end up eating all of them. They have holiday movies on in the background for three days straight, some they pay attention to, some they just leave on for background noise. On Christmas morning, after two cups of coffee on Belle’s end to deal with Trevor’s incessant rambling, they’re sat in the front of their tree. The curtains are drawn, offering minimal lighting into their living room. Yet, the twinkling lights on the tree and around their living room paint Belle in the warmest of lights. The blue fluffy blanket wrapped around her shoulders only adds to her softness and Trevor has to excuse himself after they exchange presents to go in the bathroom. 
He splashes cold water in his face and stares at himself. He’s fully in fucking love. Shit. 
…..
After that realization, he does the only thing that makes sense to him. Two days later, on the way to practice, he calls Jack. As the phone rings, he thinks that he probably should’ve checked to see if the Devils were playing today, but he also couldn’t be bothered. 
Three rings later, Jack’s scratchy voice is projected through Trevor’s car. “Hello?”
“Hey dude.”
“You’re cutting into my pre-game nap. This better be fucking good.”
“I think I’m in love with Belle.”
Silence. A rustle on Jack’s end, before, “Jesus Christ. I knew Amelie should’ve taken the day off today.”
“Jacky,” Trevor practically whines. “Be helpful.”
“Give me a second to think and I will be,” Trevor stops at a light. “Dude. I mean, not completely out of left field. But in love love? That’s big. Considering you only reconnected, what, three months ago?”
“Yeah, I know. Am I being stupid? And I need you to be real with me and tell me if I am.”
“No.”
“I’m not being stupid?”
“No, you’re not being stupid. Z, I knew I wanted to marry Amelie, like, two months after I met her, and we weren’t even dating yet. You and Isabelle have known each other since you were kids.”
“Yeah, but we lost touch for over a decade.”
“Okay and? You spent a good amount of time together when you went back home, right? And she lives with you now, right?”
“She was the only one around at home, and we’ve been living together for maybe a month.”
“Dude, are you trying to convince yourself you are in love with her or that you’re not?”
Trevor shakes his head. “Sorry, sorry. Right.”
He hears Jack let out a sigh. “I know you’ve been burned in the past with relationships and stuff, but this is a good thing, okay? She’s a great person. Try not to freak out about it so much.”
“And do what instead?”
“I don’t know,” Jack says sarcastically. “Maybe tell her?”
“Absolutely not,” Trevor says. 
“Why not?”
Trevor’s about to tell him that Belle literally was supposed to be married a year ago but clamps his mouth shut. He’s not sure if Jack knows and that’s not his story to tell. “It’s just not a good idea.”
“Lame.”
“I’m gonna hang up and call literally anyone else.”
“Do it,” Jack challenges the empty threat, before softening. “Do you have any idea if she likes you back?”
“No,” Trevor says. “But I also haven’t been thinking about that because I don’t wanna…scare her off? I know she likes me as a friend, otherwise we wouldn’t be living together. But that’s probably all there is to it.”
“Maybe,” Jack says. “Or maybe you’re making assumptions. I’m not saying you have to do anything now, but you’re not stupid, Trev. Especially with stuff like this. And hey, at least you’re in love with someone as awesome as she is. Ooh, can you imagine you two getting married? It would be full circle!”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Trevor says as Jack chuckles. “Thanks, man. Seriously.”
“Anytime. And Z?” Trevor hums to tell Jack to go on. “Don’t beat yourself up so much. You don’t know until you ask.”
Those last two sentences echo through Trevor’s head for the rest of the day, even when he’s at practice and going through the drills. After so many years in the league, he usually always can leave his thoughts at the entrance of the rink and just focus on hockey. But not today. He can tell Troy wants to ask something, but he refrains. It’s not like a distracted Trevor appears often, and Trevor’s thankful his teammate doesn’t push. 
When the front door swings open that night and Belle calls out her greeting, Trevor is coming back from being outside the last few hours, where he sat and listened to the birds and just stared at the grass, lost in thought. 
Then Belle comes into view, gray sweater over a cream satin dress, tote bag on her shoulder and a tired but bright smile on her face, and Trevor’s not lost anymore. 
In fact, as she slides over to him in her socks across the hardwood floor and hugs him in greeting, immediately talking about what they should make for dinner tonight, Trevor’s never felt more sure of where he is and where he should be. 
…..
Trevor’s on a long roadie during Valentine’s Day, but he makes sure that he delivers flowers to the house before Belle has to get to work. He had spent an ungodly amount of time selecting which bouquet he wanted to send, and Jamie, the saint that he is, had only blinked when he saw what Trevor was looking at on his phone on the bus home from the game before Trevor could lock his phone. 
Imagine if it was Troy. Or Mason. Or fucking Leo, who’s just as much a menace as he was the first day Trevor met him. Everyone loves him and thinks he’s a darling, but Trevor knows better.
He ended up choosing a bouquet from Fresh Sends because the packaging looks sick with the newspaper and the bright colored box and the reviews are all high. Without hesitation, he had picked the largest bouquet, which he knew if Belle knew how much it cost, would probably kick him out of the house or something. But she doesn’t ever need to find out. On the bus, he had hastily typed out a custom note.
Belle, 
Happy Valentine’s Day!! Wish we could be watching shitty rom-coms together but I hope this makes up for it. Thankful to have you in my life again. See you when I get back!
Z
It’s not overly romantic, but he can’t exactly confess his love for her over a note when he’s across the country. If he ever confesses, he’s gonna tell her in person, not hide behind a note like a coward. 
He wakes up on February 14 in a hotel room with a bleary smile as he wipes the sleep away from his face. 
Belle of The Ball
*picture of the flowers*
Trevor!!! these are so so beautiful thank you
You really didn’t have to
Good luck against the Rangers tonight! And tell your parents (and mine) that i said hello❤️
Trevor nets two goals and an assist. He’s on top of the world. 
…..
He’s pleasantly surprised to see that he has an incoming call from Amelie on his way home from the rink a week later. 
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Hughes.”
Amelie chuckles. “Quinn’s gonna be devastated.”
“Quinner has nothing on you.”
“Flatterer,” she says dryly. 
“What’s up?”
“Jack told me. About you and Isabelle.”
Trevor almost snorts. When he first met Amelie, way back when they were in their early twenties, she had been way more hesitant on giving her opinion among Jack’s oldest friends. But with time, her sarcasm and vivacity came out, and while Trevor had been initially surprised and amused, it made sense. Anyone who would choose to spend their life with Jack Hughes has to be able to hold their own purely to rival his constant need for attention.
“Did he now?”
“You’re the worst. I’m not gonna tell you the same stuff he did, which by the way, I’m actually pretty impressed by. From the recap he gave me, he actually said some useful stuff. But I will say something that he forgot to tell you.”
“And what is that?”
“That you’re wonderful, Trevor.”
That’s not at all what he was expecting to come out of the photographer’s mouth. All he can muster out is an “Oh?”
“Yeah. And obviously Jack believes the same thing. You know that. But you’re such a lovely guy, Trevor. I’ve known that since the day we met, don’t get me wrong. But I-I’ve talked to Isabelle a few times since the wedding, and she always brings you up. And it’s always positive.”
“What does this have to do with my feelings for her?”
“Do you feel like maybe you feel like you’re not good enough for her? Is that partially why you’re hesitating on telling her? Take out the fact that she was in a long relationship before and broke off an engagement.”
He blinks. “She told you about the engagement thing?”
“Yeah. She came out to Jersey to grab dinner with Jack and I, like, two weeks before she moved to California and told us then. That’s not the point.”
He doesn’t remember Belle mentioning that. But like Amelie said, not the point. “I-I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Trevor. You’re one of the best people I know.”
“That can’t be true,” he tries to protest. 
“But it is,” Amelie presses on. “You’re loyal. You’re funny. You have the ability to make anyone feel comfortable, even if you just met them. Your infectious energy elevates every room you walk into. You care deeply about everyone in your life. You were the first of Jack’s friends to be so openly kind to me and you continued to be kind to me even when I didn’t deserve it.” 
“I’m loud. Harsh. Always has to be on the go or I get bored. Life of the party maybe and a fun time usually, but that’s it.”
Amelie scoffs. “Respectfully, shut the fuck up. Okay, you’re all of those things, so what? You think she doesn’t already know? She probably knows better than any of us. I get being hesitant to do anything because she’s maybe on a different page, I get that. But it’s not because you’re not good enough. Get that shit out of your head.”
Trevor has to laugh, both at the abruptness of this call and unbridled honesty from Amelie’s voice. “I’m not gonna lie. Getting chewed out by my best friend’s wife wasn’t on the list of things I expected today.”
“If you think I’m chewing you out now, you’re lucky Clementine doesn’t know about this yet.”
Trevor actually shudders at the possibility of Clementine Sandoval (well, Clementine Hischier as of two years ago but old habits die hard), lecturing him about this. He still remembers Clem’s lectures she would give Quinn, Jack and Luke when they were all in Michigan. They would usually be over the phone, since she was already out in California for school by then, but even at 17, Trevor knew she wasn’t someone to be messed with. Who else in the world, besides Ellen Weinberg-Hughes, can somehow lecture all three Hughes brothers successfully in one breath?
“She doesn’t?”
“Eh, usually she would. But she’s in her last trimester and Nico would kill me if I stressed her out more.”
And well, Trevor thinks that’s fair enough. He quiets again, thinking. “You think we could be a good match? Belle and I?”
“Yes,” Amelie says with no hesitation. “And I’m not going to tell you why, because I’m pretty sure deep down, you already know.” 
He kinda hates that she’s right. Damn, is he this easy to read? He hangs up, but not before promising to give her a call more often. 
As they’re leaving practice, Jamie nudges him with his shoulder. “How’s Isabelle?”
“She’s good. She has a wedding in Santa Monica this weekend so I haven’t seen her that much this week.” 
“She a good roommate?”
Trevor smirks and elbows him lightly. “Better than you ever were.”
Jamie’s jaw drops, indignant. “Hey! I was a great roommate, thank you very much.”
“You were, you were. Nah, she’s great. We did Christmas just the two of us and it was really nice.”
“Just the two of you?”
“Fuck off, Jimmy.”
“I’m just asking! She chose not to fly home and stayed here with you instead. Ever think about what that could mean?”
Trevor has thought about it a lot recently, actually. But Jamie doesn’t need to know that. He lets out an uncommitted noise, but the look on Jamie’s face tells him that he’s not fooling anyone. Least of all, one of his dearest friends. 
Trevor needs to tell her soon. Or get over it. 
…..
Trevor never thought to really ask Belle if she wanted to go to a game, which is weird, because why wouldn’t he want a friend out in the stands to cheer him on? But he also knows that Belle wouldn’t be afraid to just ask if she wanted to go, and that her ideal time to unwind after work isn’t necessarily to go into a rowdy arena. She’s perfectly content snuggling in on the couch and watching the game on TV.
But when he mentions that Cole and the Canadiens are coming into town to play, she perks up. During the whole wedding weekend, Trevor could tell that she got pretty comfortable with Cole. Which, to Trevor, makes complete sense. Cole has the ability to make friends quickly and genuinely anywhere he goes. He leaves a ticket on the counter before heading to morning skate, as well as a note allowing her permission to raid his closet for any Ducks merch she so desires to wear. 
The game is a fun battle that goes into OT, but Leo gets the game winner with an assist from Trevor and the Honda Center goes nuts. Trevor has plans to grab dinner with Cole and Belle, and he’s in good spirits during media before he meets up with Cole and goes outside to where he told Belle to meet them. 
The boys see her before she sees them. Belle’s leaning against the wall of the arena on her phone, one of his jerseys tucked into black jeans and a black blazer completing the look. Cole calls out her name and she immediately puts her phone away with a smile, letting Cole hug her tightly with a chuckle. Trevor trails behind, watching the scene in happiness. Trevor tells Belle where he made dinner reservations, and she gets into her own car to follow them. 
As Trevor watches Cole and Belle talk at dinner, it’s overwhelming, his love for her. Cole’s pulling out some old-school stories from way back during their program days and Belle’s absolutely loving it, pulling out some of her own stories from her college days and Trevor feels so fucking lucky. There’s a particular thing that Cole says that has her coughing up her water and she’s laughing so hard and Trevor feels so fucking fond. 
Tomorrow, he promises himself. He has to tell her tomorrow.
…..
He doesn’t tell her tomorrow. But in his defense, he has to go on a road trip and she’s busy at work. 
Somehow, after dinner with Cole, he had gone to sleep earlier than she did but had woken up before her to a short but sweet note on the kitchen counter. In her cursive, he smiles at her words. 
Trev, 
Thank you for dinner and a fun game <3 Wanted to tell you tonight but by the time I got out of the bathroom you were already in bed (old man). Good luck on your road trip to wherever!! 
Love, 
Belle
He takes the note and folds it carefully, tucking it into his wallet. 
…..
At the end of the day, he ends up just blurting it out. 
He comes home from the road trip to the smell of something absolutely delicious floating through the house. He peeks his head around the corner to see Belle flittering around the kitchen, stirring something in a pot. The oven beeps and Trevor decides to make his presence known. 
“Smells good in here.”
Belle looks over her shoulder and he realizes she’s wearing one of his Ducks hoodies he must’ve had lying around. She beams. “Hey! Welcome home. I felt like making some good old grilled cheese and tomato soup with some roasted vegetables because I guess we need those. Don’t tell your coaches if this fucks up your diet-”
“I love you.” 
And well, shit, because that’s definitely not how he pictured this going. For a split second, he thinks he imagined it. But Belle freezes, her back towards him, and he has no idea what to do.
After what seems like a lifetime, she turns off the stove and turns around. “What?”
Trevor walks forward, “I love you. I’m in love with you. And I know you probably don’t feel the same way and that’s okay! I really don’t want this to change anything between us because I love our friendship. But I-I had to say it because it’s driving me crazy not saying it.”
“Trevor-”
“I know. I know. I’m sorry. Y-you’re such an important part of my life and I really hope this didn’t fuck everything up-”
Belle rushes towards him to put her hands on his shoulders, steadying him. He forces himself to take a deep breath and to stop his hands from shaking, staring at his feet. He’s breathing really fast, but Belle’s orange blossom perfume and touch calms him down ever so slightly. 
“You good?”
He swallows roughly. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” she says softly. He gets the courage to look at her face. He sees her smile and he can’t help but smile too. She clears her throat. “I-I thought it was clear, but I guess I’m out of practice. I feel the same way, Trevor. I like you a lot. Maybe not…love. Yet. B-but you’ve become my favorite person. And these last few months have been so…lovely. I just-I haven’t said anything because I don’t know if I’m ready yet.”
“That’s okay,” Trevor rushes to assure. Because holy shit, she likes him back? This was farther than he thought he was going to get. He chuckles lightly. “I…shit. Sorry. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact you like me like that.”
“Trevor,” she trails her hands down his arms to grab both of his hands. “Of course I do.”
“Oh,” he says softly. 
Belle’s eyes water, and Trevor immediately feels the surge to make her feel better. “But I don’t know if I’m ready, Trev. I don’t know when I will be. And I can’t be the asshole and ask you to wait.”
“Why not?” Trevor challenges.
Belle looks at him incredulously. “Because that’s unfair.”
“Well too bad. Because I’m not gonna listen to you.”
“What?”
“As long as you need. Take your time. I mean it. And when you’re ready, I’ll be here. I promise.”
She bites her lip, “Trevor, you can’t possibly promise something like that.”
“I can, actually. And I will.”
She opens her mouth, then closes it, before laughing. She squeezes her eyes shut as he places his hands on her cheeks to cup her face. “Okay.”
He raises an eyebrow playfully. “You’re not gonna fight me?”
She shakes her head. “You’ve never been the kind of person to back down.”
He laughs and he so wants to kiss her. But he doesn’t, instead just placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You’ll let me know when you’re ready?”
“If you’re still around,” she jokes. 
Trevor grins, his heart growing four times its size. He feels like it might explode out of his chest. “I’ll always be around for you.”
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